#helion of the day court

[works-of-heart]

Helion- The sun personified

I finally finished this picture! I wanted to bring about colors of cobalt, amethyst and reds. I love the idea that he's painted in gold and has flowing luxurious clothes that have intricate designs and shimmer in the sunlight. This is just my depiction of him!

[rainingriversofyou]

Helion x Lady Autumn

A Court Of Thorns And Roses

Artist: hancorinne_

[surielstea]

Shun the Light

Requested by @dee-writes-smut

Pairing: Helion x Fem!Reader

Summary: Helion has been attempting to get reader into his bed for years now, what happens when she finally gives in?

Warnings: smut | minors dni | fingering | p in v | creampie | controlled orgasm | dom/sub dynamics | so much banter | so much smut | they break a table | they do it on the floor | probably a lot more

A. Note: I think this is the longest fic I’ve ever posted so apologies for the wild word count, but also most of this is smut so you’re very welcome ;)

9.6k words.

Sitting in a large, worn leather chair positioned in a secluded corner of the library, I was half-hidden by towering shelves of books. The room was steeped in quiet, interrupted only by the occasional creak of the shelves under their heavy load or the soft turning of a page. The smell of old parchment mingled with the lingering scent of rich mahogany and leather—a sanctuary of knowledge and peace. And yet, even here, there was no escaping the High Lord.

"You've been avoiding me." Helion's voice cut through the tranquil silence with a casual grace, as he rounded one of the shelves that had been sheltering me. His amber eyes gleamed mischievously as he approached, a book tucked under his muscular arm. I highly doubted it was for actual reading.

"And you've been following me," I replied dryly, eyes fixed on my book. The words on the page blurred slightly, my pulse quickening from the mere presence of him.

"This is my personal library," he countered smoothly, leaning against the shelf, his broad frame casting a shadow over me. His proximity was a cage, yet the alcove still felt oddly cozy. "I'd say you're the one hoping to run into me." He gestured at the books surrounding us, a small portion of his vast collection, his smile all too knowing. "Besides, I happen to like reading."

The soft, golden light from a nearby lamp warmed the deep brown of his skin, making him look almost otherworldly as if carved from the light itself. I forced myself to stay calm, sinking deeper into the chair as I replied, "What book is that, then?" My chin jerked toward the novel he held so proudly, though I leaned back, attempting to appear indifferent.

With one of his signature smirks, Helion pulled the book from under his arm, holding it out like a grand reveal. "The Art of Seduction," he mused, his voice dripping with confidence.

"Subtle," I muttered, tossing him a glare before trying to lose myself in my own book again. The pages held nothing for me, not while Helion loomed over me with that look in his eyes. That ever-present challenge.

Unsurprisingly, he didn't leave. "Thought I could brush up on my skills, seeing as you seem so indifferent to my irresistible charm," he chimed, far too pleased with himself as he slid into the chair directly in front of mine, uninvited.

I narrowed my eyes, fighting back the heat rising in my cheeks. "Really? Out of every seat in this library, you choose that one?"

He shrugged, his casual air too relaxed for someone invading my space. "Well, you've stolen my usual one, so I must make do with lesser options." His lips twitched, eyes gleaming with amusement as he cracked open the book he clearly had no intention of reading, propping his feet up on the low table between us.

I stared, incredulous. "They're the same chair."

Helion gave a slow, almost imperceptible nod, his eyes flashing with humor. "True, but that one smells like me."

I froze for a moment, my fingers going still against the soft leather of the armrest. The faint, intoxicating scent of sandalwood and bergamot swirled around me, and I cursed inwardly. It was familiar, inescapable, and frustratingly warm, like the High Lord himself. My gaze flicked up to his, and for the first time, he seemed genuinely absorbed in his book, a small line forming between his brows as if the words were the most fascinating thing in the world.

I had to stifle a laugh at the sight. I wasn't sure he'd ever actually read a single page of his vast collection, yet there he was, looking like a scholar lost in study.

We fell into a comfortable silence—Helion reading, or pretending to read, and me half-heartedly flipping through my book, both of us mirroring each other, our feet propped up on the table in an unspoken truce. The moment felt oddly peaceful, and for a brief second, I allowed myself to enjoy it.

But, of course, it didn't last.

Only a few moments later, Helion shut his book with a soft thud, and I felt his foot nudge mine from across the table. I resisted the urge to respond, cursing his long limbs and moving my legs out of his reach, but he persisted—sending a glare of sunlight directly into my line of sight, making it nearly impossible to read.

"Would you stop that?" I snapped, lowering my book and glaring at him from beneath my brows. He only grinned, looking far too pleased with himself.

"What book is that?" he asked as if the answer mattered.

I sighed. "Some random one I found on the shelves." It wasn't exactly a lie, but it wasn't the truth, either.

"Sunshine," he drawled, his voice like velvet as he leaned forward slightly, "I've read every book in this library. That one, I'm not familiar with."

I ignored him, focusing back on my book, though I wasn't reading a single word. The heat from his gaze felt palpable, like sunlight warming my skin.

"What is it?" he pressed again, his voice dripping with faux curiosity. His fingers twitched, and I braced myself as yet another glare of sunlight angled right into my eyes.

"I'm not telling," I muttered, holding up my forearm to shield my face from the assault.

Helion chuckled softly. "I'm commanding you to tell me, as High Lord," he said, the playful light still dancing at his fingertips.

"Why do you care so much?" I grumbled, slamming my book shut with an exaggerated huff.

He leaned back, eyes never leaving mine. "I wish to know what could possibly be more interesting than me." His smirk widened as if the very thought was inconceivable.

I said nothing, my silence was the only answer I was willing to give.

"How about a bet?" he suggested, the gleam in his eyes unmistakable. "If I can make you smile in the next five minutes, you have to tell me what you're reading."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "And if you lose?"

Helion's smirk softened into something more sincere. "I'll leave you alone for the rest of the night."

A tempting offer. I considered it for a moment, imagining a night of uninterrupted reading, free from his constant prattling.

"Deal. Five minutes," I said, returning to my book.

For a while, Helion was silent, the ticking clock in my mind counting down the seconds. But knowing him, he probably believed he didn't need the full-time—that one well-timed sentence would be enough.

"You look adorable with your nose stuffed in a book," he murmured, breaking the silence. His voice was softer now, more intimate, like a confession shared in the quiet of a night.

I rolled my eyes. "That's usually what people do in a library."

Helion's smile widened. "And yet, I find myself much more interested in studying you."

"Why don't you leave me alone and go read your book? Maybe you'll learn how to actually charm me," I shot back, trying to ignore the way his words made my pulse race.

"I could recite poetry and still fall short," he sighed dramatically as if I truly had him beat.

Despite myself, a smile tugged at my lips at the absurdity of it all.

"There it is," he marveled, his voice a soft victory.

My fleeting smile turned into a scowl. "That doesn't count. I was smiling at the thought of you leaving me alone."

Helion laughed. "A smile is a smile." He extended his hand, eyes glinting. "So, show me the book."

I look down to the page I was on—to the very erotic scene playing out that I hadn't even realized was happening, too busy pretending to read when he was talking to me to even realize.

"I—no," I murmur, slamming my book shut.

"We had a deal, so unless you want to have permanent bargain tattoos with me, I suggest you hand it over." He quipped and I frowned at the idea of something so permanent on my body being associated with him.

"Fine," I grumble, holding the book out to him with a string of grumbled curses. He takes the book, his fingers brushing over mine—the touch shooting rays of warmth up my arm. I shake it off and settle back into my chair which smelt so strongly of him.

Helion crosses his ankle over his knee, reclining back in his chair with the casual confidence that seems permanently etched into his being. His long, golden fingers lazily flip over my book, turning it to read the back. I watch as his brow arches and the corner of his mouth tugs upward.

"Reading about me, are we?" His voice breaks the silence, low and teasing, pulling my attention from my own thoughts. His gaze flickers up to mine, gleaming with amusement.

My head tilts in confusion, a frown forming. "It's not about you. How self-centered can you possibly get?" I scoff, reaching for the book with a frustrated hand, but he pulls it just out of reach with an effortless motion.

"A king falling for his emissary?" he continues, ignoring my protest. His fingers tap against the page in emphasis. "Sounds familiar, no?"

His eyes, molten gold in the dim library light, lock with mine, a teasing smile dancing on his lips. My pulse quickens, not from the question itself, but from the look on his face—the playful way he studies me like I'm a puzzle to be solved.

"My book, Helion," I demand, extending my arm towards him, though it feels like a futile gesture. He watches me closely, a cat toying with its prey.

"In a moment." He waves off my request with a casual flick of his hand, settling deeper into the oversized chair that barely manages to hold his broad frame. He opens the book, his eyes landing right on the page marked by my ribbon. My heart stutters in my chest. No, no, no. He's going to read that part. I freeze, eyes wide as I watch his expression for any sign of disgust or, worse, judgment.

But there's nothing. His lips curl into a slow smile, amusement dancing in his gaze. "This is far better than I could have ever imagined," he purrs, a wicked light entering his eyes as he lets the book fall closed and tosses it onto the table between us, entirely unbothered.

"I'm doing a book club with the Valkyries. It wasn't my first choice," I mumble quickly, snatching the book back from the table. My fingers are trembling slightly, and I hope he doesn't notice. The truth is, I was mortified.

Helion, of course, doesn't seem fazed by my embarrassment. "No need to defend yourself. Although," he leans back with a leisurely stretch, his muscles rippling beneath his tunic, "I have an entire shelf of erotica in the back that's much better written. And doesn't use words like 'velvet-wrapped steel.'"

Heat floods my cheeks, a fierce blush creeping up my neck. "Shouldn't you be doing High Lord stuff?" I grumble, trying to deflect, my mortification reaching new heights. "Not pestering me?"

"My court is asleep." He shrugs as if the affairs of his court are a mere inconvenience. "Nothing happens in the Day Court after the sun goes down." He huffs like it's a travesty, though there's a gleam in his eye suggesting he prefers it that way. "Well, nothing for the public eye anyway," he adds with a sultry grin, his eyes darkening, his voice dripping with innuendo.

I roll my eyes, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. "You still have land to rule. People to govern. They don't disappear just because they're asleep." I remind him, though I can't help but let my gaze flicker to the strong line of his jaw, the way his dimples deepen when he smiles.

"Delegation, my dear," he responds, his tone infuriatingly smug. "The key to any successful leader."

"If only you could delegate your need for constant attention," I shoot back, offering a sweet smile that hides my annoyance.

His shoulders slump in an exaggerated show of disappointment, his hand dramatically pressed to his chest. "Well, that just wouldn't work. There's only one person I want attention from."

The weight of his words hangs in the air, the meaning unmistakable. My heart skips a beat, my pulse fluttering in my throat as I force myself to remain calm. I can feel his gaze roaming over me like he's waiting for me to react. My eyes flick over his form, all lean muscle and rich, sun-kissed skin that practically glows in the warm library light. Everything about him radiates confidence—dangerous, seductive confidence.

"And I'm sure she's flattered," I say dryly, snapping my gaze away from his broad chest. "Too bad she's not here to distract you." I shift in my seat, trying to appear unbothered by the way his eyes are lingering on me, though I feel the heat rising in my cheeks.

Helion tilts his head, watching me with that same predatory amusement, as though he's enjoying a game only he knows the rules to. His forearms rest on his spread thighs, and gods, those thighs. I can't help but glance, at his muscles thick and defined. His deep chuckle pulls my attention back to his face.

"Oh, she's here," he muses, his voice dropping lower, rougher. "She just needs to stop pretending I'm not the most interesting thing in this library."

I open my mouth to respond, to shoot back some biting retort, but I'm momentarily speechless, my heart beating a little too fast. Instead, I huff and bury my nose in the book, determined to ignore him. It's unprofessional. He's the High Lord. And I'm his emissary. Even entertaining the idea of his flirting is toeing a dangerous line. Besides, I know Helion's reputation. I'm not interested in being just another conquest, no matter how much he seems to enjoy teasing me.

But gods, he makes it difficult.

"Stop glaring at that book." His voice breaks into my thoughts again, his tone laced with amusement. "Either you're about to throw it into a fire, or you're thinking about something else entirely."

I glance up at him, eyes narrowing. "I'm thinking about how much quieter it would be in here without you."

"This is a library, you know?" I add, flipping a page in a show of indifference.

"Yes, but this library is only open to the public during the daytime. Except for those permitted access." He reclines even further, his fingers interlacing behind his head as he watches me, that maddening grin still plastered on his face.

"And if someone with clearance is in here with you, disrupting their quiet?" I tilt my head at him, matching his smug expression.

He mirrors the movement. "Everyone with clearance is already here. Not even the librarians can come in after hours."

I blink, my mind catching up with his words. And then it hits me. "I'm the only one with permission, aren't I?" My voice comes out soft, the realization settling in.

"Took you long enough," he grins, his eyes twinkling in the candlelight.

"And how many women did this trick work on?" I grumble, my suspicion growing, even as my pulse quickens under his gaze.

"Just you," he says, and for once, the cocky smile falters into something more sincere.

I snort in disbelief. "It hasn't worked yet," I retort, though my voice sounds weaker than I'd like.

"Yet?" He arches a brow, his gaze flickering over me, daring me to challenge him.

My lips press into a thin line, and I bury myself back in my book, hiding behind the pages. "Go away, Helion." My voice comes out more of a plea than an order, and I curse myself for how breathless it sounds.

"I don't want you to miss me." His tone is snarky, yet something told me he genuinely believed what he was saying. I force myself not to look at him, to not fall for whatever game he's playing.

"Nonsense," I murmur, my cheeks burning. "I'd be too busy enjoying the peace."

Helion sighs dramatically, though there's a glimmer of laughter in his voice. "I'm not sure you're capable of quiet when I'm around. You always have something to say."

He's right, of course, and that's what infuriates me the most. No matter how much I want to ignore him, I can't. There's something about him that pulls the words right out of me.

"It's called defending myself from your constant attempts at flirting," I snap, though I don't dare look up, knowing he's probably biting back another smile.

"And here I was thinking we were bonding." His voice drops, laced with a dark, rich amusement. I glance up just in time to see him run a hand down his thigh, slow and deliberate, as though daring me to watch.

"This is what you call bonding?" I shift uncomfortably in my seat, the tension in the air almost unbearable. "I call it you trying—and failing—to charm me."

"Oh please," he laughs softly, his smile widening. "You've been charmed by me since the day we met. Don't think I haven't noticed the looks you've been sneaking all night."

His words land like a punch to the gut, and I flush, my cheeks heating in embarrassment. I can't tell if I'm mortified because he caught me or because I was staring at all.

"You think too highly of yourself," I mutter, sinking deeper into the chair as if it could swallow me whole. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing how flustered I am.

Helion only leans closer, his voice softening, turning almost serious. "You're the only one who thinks too lowly of me."

The sudden shift in his tone catches me off guard, and for the first time tonight, I meet his gaze fully. There's no teasing, no playful glint. Just him, watching me with an intensity that steals the air from my lungs.

I truly tried to focus on what I was reading, but his lingering gaze on me was going to drive me wild. Somehow that stare spoke louder than any words he could've said. He was offering me the silence I wanted, while simultaneously pushing me to insanity. Surely I couldn't get mad at him for simply observing? Yet here I was, nearly fuming at the way he tracked each of my movements.

Eventually, I grow sick of his ogling, so I snap my book closed and turn to him with narrowed eyes. Stop looking at me like that," I order, pushing myself up from the chair that had all but swallowed me. It's identical to the one Helion has turned into his makeshift throne, yet somehow, he manages to own his space with ease.

"Like what?" He rises with me, and I have to crane my neck just to maintain eye contact. Even that, the way I have to look up at him, feels like some small concession.

I stare at him, his features softened by the glow of the candlelight. His usual smirk is nowhere to be seen, and his golden eyes hold no trace of the lust or amusement I've come to expect from him. Instead, they're filled with something even more dangerous—reverence. He looks at me like I'm more than just a passing amusement, more than just a fleeting fancy. Like I'm something precious.

"Like I'm more than just a game to you," I shake my head, tearing my gaze away. The weight of his stare is too much. I toss the book in my hands onto the coffee table with more force than necessary and stride past him, desperate to escape the suffocating tension of our little alcove. I don't trust myself to stay there, not with him looking at me like that.

"You think this is a game?" His voice follows me as I make my way through the dim, quiet library. It's empty, save for the two of us, but somehow, his presence alone fills every corner.

"Isn't it?" I shoot back, unwilling to turn and face him. The memory of his gaze burns too fresh in my mind. "Your reputation for women precedes you, Helion." The words slip out harsher than I intended. It's a low blow, bringing up his past like this, but I need him to understand why I can't—why I shouldn't.

I expect him to brush it off, but instead, he's beside me in a flash, walking in step as though he belongs at my side. "You think I would chase after a female for three years just for sex?" His voice is surprisingly calm, but there's a thread of frustration woven into it. "I've been rejected before, and I always respect it."

I stop in my tracks, staring up at him with creased brows. "Then what makes me so different?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. It's a question I've been avoiding for months, maybe longer. Because deep down, I'm afraid of the answer. I'm afraid of what it might mean—for both of us.

Helion doesn't hesitate. "Because you feel it too." He steps closer, his movements slow, deliberate. The air between us crackles with unspoken tension, and yet I don't move. "This thing between us, you delight in it just as much as I do."

He takes another step forward, closing the distance, and my back hits the bookshelf behind me. Trapped, my breath hitches, but I refuse to show any sign of retreat.

"I'm not going to be another girl you charm for a night and forget by morning," I whisper, my voice barely holding steady. It's a quiet confession, more to myself than to him.

Helion's hand comes up to cup my jaw, his thumb brushing over my cheek with an unbearable tenderness. "I wouldn't forget you," he murmurs, shaking his head as if the very idea is absurd.

The proximity is overwhelming now. His warmth radiates off him, pulling me in, and my resolve—what little remains—begins to crumble. My body betrays me, my hands itching to touch him, to feel the strength in the muscles I've tried not to think about for so long.

"Helion,” I murmur, his name a warning, or maybe a plea. I don't even know anymore.

His gaze drops to my lips, his thumb never stopping its gentle, maddening caress. "Tell me, what keeps you from me?" he asks softly, his breath mingling with mine.

My throat tightens, and I remind myself of all the reasons this is a terrible idea. "I would hate myself if I became another one of your conquests." The words come out softer than I intend, laced with the fear I've been trying so hard to suppress.

But Helion doesn't back away. He doesn't laugh or brush it off. Instead, he leans in closer, his voice low and rough. "You're not. And even if you were—with the amount of time I've had to think about you, it'd take months to cross everything I want to do to you off the list." His lips ghost over mine, the barest hint of a touch that sets my skin ablaze.

"Helion," I repeat, the name a broken caution.

"Tell me to stop, I will." He promises, his voice raw with need. He inches closer, only a hairsbreadth away. "Tell me." He whispers, lips ghosting over mine.

I didn't have it in myself to tell him to stop, to even push him away. I wanted this, needed this. I surged upwards and closed the distance between us.

For three years he had been taunting me, teasing me with pretty words and suggestive smiles, and now I was finally giving him what he wanted—and what I have secretly been wanting far longer than he suspects, and it was everything I could've hoped for.

My back pressed harder into the shelf behind me as his chest met mine, while his hands, warm and firm wrapped around my hips, drawing me closer until there was no space between us. My body betrayed my mind, my thoughts warning me to stop, to end this before it was too late, but my hands were running down his muscles chest I've been craving to feel for years, my fingers curling into the fabric of his tunic and pulling him into me, deepening our kiss.

Every touch sent sparks skittering across my skin, and for a moment I allowed myself to drown in him, in the heat of him, his scent, the way he kissed me like he might never get the chance again.

His hands traveled from my hips, beneath my shirt to grip my waist—and the feel of his calloused hands on my bare skin was enough to send me reeling. The kiss grew more frantic, more desperate. His skilled tongue explored every possible inch of my mouth, and I allowed it, reveling in the way he so eagerly tasted me.

When I finally pulled away, breaking our kiss, our breaths coming in ragged gasps I stared up into his dilated pupils, the playful spark I was used to seeing there replaced by something deeper, something that sent both a jolt of fear and excitement through me. He was staring down at me like I was the only thing in the room—hel, like I was the only thing that mattered.

He leans closer, placing an all-too-gentle kiss on the expanse just below my ear. "Helion," I echoed, my fists still clenching his shirt.

"Yeah?" He uttered, his breath hot against my skin as he slowly trailed his lips down my jaw.

"We shouldn't, we can't," I sigh breathlessly, my hand weaving into his hair, tilting my head, allowing him to deepen his kiss.

"Who said?" He murmurs into my skin.

"It isn't professional," I say between breaths, my pulse rapidly fluttering, his tongue flicking over it playfully.

"Do you want to stop?" He asked, pulling away to look me in the eyes and the loss of his contact made something inside me ache.

"I—no, gods no," I profess, my hands wrapping around the back of his neck.

"Then I don't care if it's professional, let me give you what you need," He whispered, his lips brushing mine. "Alright?"

I don't reply, and instead crash his lips onto mine once more, the rest of my defenses crumbling at the action. The kiss was hungrier this time, more demanding. I gave in fully as his tongue found its way into my mouth yet again, my chest arching into his as his hands slipped down to cup the back of my thighs, tapping me twice as a silent command to jump. I did exactly as he wished, wrapping my legs around his torso as he supported me, his touch traveled higher to cradle me by the curve of my ass. He smiled into the kiss, even in the heat of the moment his cocky grin manages to make an appearance.

He pushes off the shelf, blindly guiding us through the shelves and to the center of the empty library, where tables fill the area. He placed me down on the edge of the center table, his hands leaving my backside in favor of exploring new, untouched areas. Heat races through my veins as his hands trailed to the hem of my skirt, slipping beneath it without hesitation, his thumb grazing against the seam of my panties.

"Wait," I pant against his lips and his hand freezes. "Not here," I murmured, pecking his lips softly.

"It's just us in here, remember?" He reassured me when I pulled away, kissing my forehead. "Just us." His lips brush against my skin as he repeats the words and I can feel my resolve slipping. There was no more room for doubt, no more room for fear. All that existed was an overwhelming need to have him, to feel him in every way possible, to lose myself entirely in him until I didn't know where he ended and where I began.

"Just us," I echo, nodding slowly.

"We can stop," He said, despite how clearly he wanted this and was desperate for this.

"No, Helion don't stop," I connect our lips once more, allowing my legs to fall open farther, inviting him.

He forced himself to pull away, to restrain himself from me for just a moment longer. "You're okay with this, then?" He rasped, eyes pure gold.

"Yes," I answered. "Gods, yes." I pulled him into me, his hips meeting mine. His grin turned almost wolfish, primal as he tore through my skirt like it was nothing, discarding the fabric. He pulled me to the very edge of the table, his hands rubbing higher up my thighs, tracing the seam of my panties. I gasped as he pressed two fingers onto my clothed folds, just the right amount of pressure, not enough to get any real gratification from—but gods it still felt good. He smirks against my lips as he feels the damp spot forming on the cloth and I flush in embarrassment.

"I haven't even touched you," He noted aloud, deepening my blush. "Tell me, baby, were you this wet when I was simply talking to you?" He utters between kisses and I fight the urge to sneer at him.

"Do you ever shut up?" I ask, my question genuine. He responds with a searing kiss, which did in fact quiet him.

He couldn't control himself any longer, not with my hands roaming his back, my lips on his. He tore through my undergarments in a similar fashion to my skirt, tossing the wet fabric somewhere unimportant to me. He pulled back from our kiss, and I tugged at his bottom lip to stop him from leaving but he ignored my silent complaint, only to peer down at the apex of my thighs.

He grunted at the sight, his forehead meeting mine as he swiped two fingers through my embarrassingly wet core, his fingers coming back dripping. I throbbed for more, letting out a quiet moan as his thumb came down onto my clit, my head tilted back in ecstasy as he began circling it, his skillful touch setting my skin on fire as his middle finger traced my dripping entrance. I bucked slightly, leaning on my hands behind me as I lifted my hips for more friction.

He chuckled breathlessly, the sound humiliating, while simultaneously making me crave him so much more.

He didn't make me wait long before his own restraint snapped, letting go of that leash he had been gripping so tightly and pushing two of his fingers inside of me.

I moaned at the stretch, louder this time, relishing in the way his calloused fingers scraped against my walls, fitting me around him so perfectly.

He grunted at the sound of my moans, his pace unrelenting as his fingers thrust into me repeatedly, deep and slow. The pressure building inside me had my legs trembling as I spread them wider for him, silently begging for more.

"That's it," he rasped into my open mouth, his voice hoarse with desire. "Doing so well for me." His words were like kindling to the fire already raging in my core, my entire body aching for release. I could barely find the breath to respond, only able to whimper his name.

I bit my lip as he curled his fingers inside me, hitting that sweet spot that had me seeing stars. My eyes squeezed shut, my chest rising and falling with ragged breaths as I tried to hold on, trying not to fall apart too soon, but he didn't seem to like that idea.

His other hand moved up my body, pulling the fabric of my shirt open to expose my breasts. He skillfully unclasped my bra, disposing of it just as he did with the rest of my clothes, leaving me entirely bare. He wasted no time in leaning down and capturing one of my peaked nipples between his teeth. The added sensation had my whole body jerking forward, my fingers tangling in his hair as I gasped.

"Yeah? You like that?" he muttered against my skin, the vibration of his voice sending shivers down my spine. I nodded frantically, unable to form words, as his fingers pumped into me with precision, his thumb pressing down on my clit, moving in tight circles that had me trembling on the edge of oblivion.

I was so close, so damn close, but I didn't want it to end just yet. I tugged on his hair, trying to pull him away from my breast, but he didn't budge. If anything, he seemed encouraged by the way my body was reacting to him, his fingers moving faster, his tongue flicking over my nipple with maddening strokes.

"Gods," I moaned, my head tilting back towards the vaulted ceiling, towards the sky and everything beyond, praying for relief, for that sweet, euphoric high. "Helion—m'close," I confess through a whimper, feeling my body reach its ascent.

"You going to beg for it?" He purred, pulling away from my breast, peering up at me.

"What?" I utter, too lost in my pleasure to even wrap my head around the thought.

"Beg for it." He repeats. "Beg for me to let you come." He reiterates, his voice low, sultry. My arousal increases, I must've been dripping into his hand.

"I'm not—fuck," I hiss as he curves his fingers into that sensitive spot, but not enough pressure to push me over the edge, he was toying with me. "Not g'na beg," I murmur, my body betraying me by trembling under his touch.

"No? Still not ready to admit how needy you are for me?" He tutted, seeming almost disappointed. The tone was degrading in itself, enough to send me reeling—but then his fingers were pulling out of me and he had no intention of thrusting them back in.

I gasped, my resolve shattering as I bucked my hips up desperately. "No—no please," I give in, my body aching for him to fill me again. "Helion, please—"

I stare through low-lidded eyes as a smile slowly spreads across his sensuous lips. "Please what? Tell me what you want."

"Wanna come, please I've needed this for so long," My breath hitched, it was hard to dig the words I've kept buried so deep back up, to confess them not only to him but to myself as well. "I've needed you, for so long."

He leans closer, pecking my lips softly, in such a tender way it made me forget about everything else, about what the court might think, about my fear of being just another game to him. It was only us, connected in every way possible.

"There she is," He pulled back from my lips. "That wasn't so hard, now was it?" He teased between kisses.

"Helion, please, can I?" I whine, the sound so pitiful I barely recognize it as my own.

"Go ahead love, come on my hand." He rasped, and just like that, the world shattered around me. My orgasm tore through me like a storm, my body shaking as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me. I cried out his name, my hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging into the corded muscle there as he coaxed me through every second of it, his fingers never stopping, pushing me higher, deeper into bliss.

When I finally came down, my body limp and trembling, he pulled his fingers from me, his eyes dark with lust as he brought them to his lips. He licked them clean, tasting me with a low, satisfied groan that sent another pulse of heat through me.

"You taste better than I imagined," he murmured, his voice low and dangerous, making me shiver despite the warmth still radiating from my core.

But before I could catch my breath, he was already pulling off his clothes, his eyes locked on mine with a hunger that made my heart race all over again.

"You didn't think I was done with you, did you?" he asked, his grin returning as he tugged his pants down, his hardened cock springing free. My eyes widened at the sight, and for a second I debated if he'd even fit.

"Now," he whispered, guiding me off the table so I could plant my feet solidly on the ground. His voice sent a thrill down my spine as he said, "Be a good girl and bend over the table f'me, yeah?"

I slowly turned my back to him, my legs shaky from the intense pleasure still coursing through me, his hands never left my body. They trailed down my sides, strong and possessive, igniting embers of anticipation in their wake. His touch alone had me quivering, but the look in his eyes—dark, feral—made my pulse quicken.

I bent over the table as instructed, the cool wood pressing against my flushed skin. The vulnerable position made my blood heat, but excitement flared deep inside me, mixing with the lingering ache of desire. His breath was hot against my ear as he leaned over me, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of my neck.

"That's it, baby," he purred, his fingers trailing teasingly down my spine before settling on my hips, pinning them in place. "So eager to please."

I could hear the sound of his breath hitching, and feel the tension in the air as he lined himself up behind me, his tip nudging at my entrance. I bit my lip, expectancy tightening my body.

He pushed forward slowly, torturously so, letting me feel every inch as he stretched me. A low, guttural groan escaped his lips, and my own whimper joined it, the sensation overwhelming, leaving no room for thought, only the feeling of him filling me completely.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, hands gripping my hips tighter. "So, so tight." His voice sent a wave of need through me, the table was too long for me to find any leverage, I was left stranded between the polished wood and his broad chest, unable to steady myself.

With an impatient, sharp snap of his hips, he pushed into me deeper, granting a gasp from my lips. The suddenness of it sent a shudder through me, pleasure curling through my body in response. He leaned over me again, his mouth grazing my ear. "You feel so good," he rasped, his voice a mixture of lust and satisfaction as he began to move, each thrust deep and slow, drawing out every bit of sensation until I was trembling beneath him.

I couldn't help the moans that slipped past my lips as he built a rhythm, each movement of his hips driving me higher, closer to the edge once again. My back bowed, pressing into his chest and deepening the angle of him, the sensation eliciting a noiseless scream from me.

His hands tightened on my hips, fingers digging into my skin as he pulled me back to meet each of his thrusts. Every movement was deliberate, slow but devastatingly deep, as though he wanted me to feel every inch of him, to memorize the way he stretched me, and filled me so completely. The pressure was maddening, making my body tremble beneath him, a delicious torment that left me teetering on the edge but not quite enough to tip over.

His pace quickened, the drag of him inside me was almost too much to bear, and yet not enough all at once. His hands were gripping me so tightly I was sure there would be bruises by morning, but the thought only made me hotter, the idea of his marks on me driving me wild.

The sound of skin meeting skin filled the air, each slap punctuated by our ragged breaths. My nails dug into the table's edge, desperate for something to anchor myself to, but every time I thought I could catch my breath, he would change the angle just slightly, hitting that spot deep inside me that sent white-hot pleasure shooting through my veins.

"You sound so perfect moaning my name," He murmured beside my ear. "So fucking perfect for me." His words sent a shiver down my spine, a molten heat spreading through my core. My body was caught in the rhythm he set, each thrust rocking me against the wood of the table, it creaked beneath us, but it was his ragged breaths and the low, guttural sounds he made that had my heart racing, my need climbing higher and higher.

He shifted his grip, one hand moving from my hip to slide up my spine, tracing a line of fire until it fisted into my hair, pulling my head back just enough for his lips to make contact with the most sensitive spot on my neck, sucking on the area hard. "I want to hear you," he demanded, voice low and rough against my throat. "I want to hear you fall apart for me."

I moaned loudly in response, the sound raw, desperate, as his hand tugged harder, pulling my back into a deeper arch. My entire body was taut, every nerve lit up under his command. His other hand slid around to my front, fingers finding the aching bundle of nerves between my legs, circling it with relentless precision.

The duel stimulation nearly broke me. My body jerked beneath him, every muscle tightening as I fought to hold back, but it was a losing battle. The pressure was building again, faster this time, harder, threatening to unravel me completely.

"That's it," he murmured, his fingers speeding up in sync with his thrusts. "I can feel you, baby. You're close, aren't you? So close to coming all over my cock."

I was. I was so desperate, I could hardly think, my mind a haze of nothing but him—his voice, his hands, his cock twitching inside me. My breaths came out in shallow gasps, each one forced from me by the sensation of his fingers working me toward the brink.

"Come for me," he commanded, his voice like gravel, rough and impatient. "Let go."

I shattered around him. My body tensed as the orgasm ripped through me, pleasure crashing down in waves so intense it left me trembling and breathless. I cried out, the sound broken and uninhibited, my walls clenching tightly around him as I came harder than I thought possible.

He groaned in response, feeling my pulse around him, his hips stuttering as he chased his own release. His thrusts grew erratic, rougher, until finally, with a deep, guttural moan, he followed me over the edge, spilling into me with a few last powerful thrusts that left us both gasping for breath.

For a moment, we stayed like that, bodies entwined, both of us panting and spent. His hands, once gripping me with unrelenting force, now softened, running soothingly over my hips and sides. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of my neck, and I shivered, still coming down from the high, my legs weak and trembling.

Ever so slowly he pulled out of me, his warm hands guiding me upright. I trembled, my arms shaking as I used them to hold myself up. I leaned against the table as I turned around to face him, my cheeks flushed with exertion, my entire body heated with stimulation.

"Feeling alright?" He asks, his voice so gentle in contrast to his earlier roughness. I nod slowly, gripping the edge of the table behind me for support.

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, nearly lovingly, then cups my cheek. I allow myself to lean into the touch, turning my head to place a soft kiss on his palm.

Something in his eyes changed then, something deeper than lust or need, and before I could stop myself I was wrapping my arms around the nape of his neck and slotting my mouth over his yet again.

My legs trembled as he kissed me, savored me so thoroughly like he'd never get sick of the taste. He noticed my unsteady stance and hoisted me back up onto the table, guiding me to lay down, sprawled for him.

The table creaked when he leaned on it and I grabbed his wrist, halting him. "The table won't hold both of us," I say breathlessly, especially not if he was going to push into me as rough as he was earlier.

"Then we'll move to the floor when it snaps." He smirks, crawling over me despite my warning, and I can't help but allow a feeling of excitement and arousal to flicker through me at the promise of his words.

He hovers over me, his hands beside my head as he hardens again, at just the sight of me, the thought of me bare beneath him, legs spread for his entrance. His sultry smirk widens as his tip brushes against my core. "Helion," I whimper, his name on my lips a prayer on its own. "Need you," I beg, my words no longer my own as eagerness for pleasure consumed me.

His gaze darkened, the hunger in his eyes sending a shiver down my spine. He lowered his mouth to my neck, his lips grazing my skin in a teasingly slow path. "Say it again," he murmured, voice hoarse with need, the warmth of his breath making my pulse race beneath him.

I swallowed, my hands gripping his biceps as my chest rose and fell in shallow, desperate breaths. "Please," I whispered, tilting my head to give him better access, my body trembling with anticipation. "Please, Helion. I need you."

A groan escaped his throat, primal and possessive. He didn't make me wait any longer. With one swift, powerful thrust, he pushed into me, the sound of my gasp mingling with his low growl as he filled me completely. The table creaked louder beneath us, and I could feel its instability, but I couldn't bring myself to care.

Helion moved with a steady, deep rhythm at first, his hips rolling as he gripped my waist with one hand, the other bracing himself beside my head. "You're perfect like this," he murmured, his breath hot against my ear. "Desperate and moaning my name."

I could only whine in response, the delicious friction building inside me, pushing me closer to the edge with every thrust. He quickened his pace, the intensity rising, and I arched into him, wrapping my legs around his hips, desperate for more of him, all of him. The tension coiled tighter within me, the sound of our bodies colliding and the ragged breaths filling the room.

"Helion," My voice was barely a whisper, swallowed by the pleasure that rippled through me. His name left my lips again in a breathy plea, barely heard below the splintering of the table, and with another powerful thrust, one leg of the table snapped. He gathered me in his arms before we could go crashing, High Lord strength holding me upright, all while still nestled inside of me.

I was too focused on how good he was making me feel to think about the change of positions, too focused on how he was lifting me up and down on his cock, the quick pace making me release a string of needs.

He dropped to his knees, kneeling down and placing me on the carpeted floor, just as he promised.

He didn't relent in his thrusting despite the altering of position, he fucked me right through it, overwhelmed me with intense pleasure so I barely noticed it as well.

"So perfect, like you were made for me," he breathed, his voice thick with lust as he thrust deeper, each stroke igniting another wave of pleasure that threatened to drown me. I could feel every muscle in my body tensing, arching to meet him, lost in the rhythm he set.

I whimpered, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer as if I could merge our bodies even more completely. "Helion, please," I begged, the words spilling from my lips unbidden. "Don't stop. I'm so close."

His response was a low growl, and he quickened his pace, driving deeper, harder, as he captured my mouth in a heated kiss. His tongue tangled with mine, his lips moving against mine as if he were trying to devour me whole. I could feel the way he was losing himself too, the need in his movements matching the frantic beating of my heart.

The carpet shifted beneath us— and I realized we no longer lay against the floor, but a soft mattress. Somewhere during our heated kiss he had winnowed us into what I assume was his bedroom, the sounds of our bodies slapping together echoing off the walls. Helion's hands gripped my hips, guiding me as he thrust up into me, his movements unrelenting. Each thrust built until I was teetering on the edge of release.

"Just a little more," he encouraged, his breath hot against my ear. "I can feel you tightening around me. Let go, love." The endearment sent a thrill through me, urging me closer to the precipice.

"Helion!" I gasped, feeling the coil within me tighten to its breaking point. I surrendered completely, my body instinctively arching and clenching around him as I felt the wave crash over me. My orgasm hit with blinding force, washing over me in intense ripples of pleasure as I cried out, my body trembling in response.

He followed me over the edge, his own release spilling forth as he growled my name, the sound mingling with the rush of my own pleasure. Helion thrust a few more times, riding out both our climaxes, our bodies perfectly attuned to one another.

He finally pulled out of me, flipping down onto the mattress beside me. I rested my head against his shoulder, his hand slipped into mine, our fingers intertwining, feeling blissfully content, the world around us fading into the background as I savored the afterglow.

After a few moments, I giggled softly, breaking the comfortable silence. "I can't believe we broke a table."

He chucked breathlessly, the warm sound making a feeling bloom in my chest. "It never stood a chance," He replied.

"Literally," I added, eliciting another quiet laugh from him.

I turned onto my side, wrapping an arm around his bare torso, furrowing into his warmth.

I lay still, the warmth of his body fading as he pulled away, leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable. My heart raced with a mix of confusion and irritation as I watched him slip into his pants. "I thought I wasn't another conquest?" I muttered, my voice laced with hurt as I searched his eyes for the truth.

Helion paused, his expression shifting to one of genuine confusion. "You're not," he said, the sincerity in his tone softening the edges of my anger. But then I narrowed my eyes, my glare unwavering.

"Then where are you going?" I pressed, the question heavy on my heart.

A playful smile tugged at his lips, clearly amused by my reaction. "Would you have a little faith in me? I'm getting a cloth to clean you up," he reassured, turning toward the basin beside the window. I watched him wet a cloth, wringing it out with careful precision before making his way back to the bed.

My glare faltered, replaced by a rush of embarrassment as he returned to my side, settling beside me, I could feel the warmth radiating from his body, and my breath hitched slightly at the intimacy of the moment. Helion gently dragged the damp cloth between my legs, his movements deliberate and tender, and I couldn't help but squirm under his touch.

"Helion," I murmured, feeling a rush of warmth flood my cheeks as he meticulously cleaned me. The sensation was both intimate and oddly soothing, and I found it hard to maintain my earlier annoyance. His focus was unwavering, his eyes intent on his task, and I couldn't help but appreciate how he handled me with such care.

"Relax," he said softly, glancing up at me as he continued his work. "I promise I'm not going anywhere." His gaze held mine, and I could see the genuine warmth and affection there, a stark contrast to the teasing persona he often wore.

I took a deep breath, the tension in my body slowly dissipating as I let his calm wash over me. "Okay," I finally replied, my voice barely above a whisper. I settled back against the pillows, allowing myself to enjoy this unexpected moment of intimacy. Helion finished cleaning me, his touch lingering just a bit longer than necessary, sending shivers of pleasure through me.

"There," he said, a satisfied smile gracing his lips as he tossed the cloth aside. "All clean."

I watch him discard the cloth in the laundry bin with casual grace as if he didn't just alter my entire perception of him. He moved into bed beside me, the mattress dipping with his weight. "You okay, love?" He murmured, tucking me into his carved chest. Again, with that nickname that sent a flutter through me, an endearing sensation I couldn't quite put into words.

I swallowed thickly, nodding as I sunk into his warmth, the kind comparable to the rays of the sun. "Mhm, just tired," I uttered.

"Rest, I'll be here in the morning," He murmured, his hand running down the length of my arm, tracing delicate patterns on my skin. I felt every gentle stroke like a whisper, a promise that anchored me to this newfound connection.

As I settled deeper into his embrace, the world outside faded away, and the quiet rhythm of his heartbeat became the lullaby that lulled me into sleep, a well-earned and deep one, his warmth cradling me into a blissful slumber.

I awoke at first light, my eyes fluttering open to the uncovered windows—the day court being worshippers of the sun, curtains were unheard of here, which made for a rough morning. But something about this morning, with the sun kissing my skin the way Helion had last night, it wasn't so bad.

I flip over, my back to the sun and my front to, perhaps something warmer.

He was awake, already staring at me with a slight smile on his lips. "Good morning," He whispered, his voice deepened by sleep.

"I suppose this is when I take my leave?" I murmur, but don't make any movement to leave. I didn't want to, I wanted to bathe in his sunlight for a little while longer.

He reaches over, his large hand spanning my waist and pulling me closer, encasing me into his broad shoulders and carved chest. "No, my dear, you're not going anywhere." He reassures, looking down at me with a darkened gaze, our foreheads pressed together and his nose brushing mine.

"What have I gotten myself into?" I feign annoyance, rolling my eyes.

He lets out a breathless laugh, leaning down into my neck and pressing his lips into the collection of marks he had left only last night. "You've no idea." He mumbled and I groaned playfully, grumbling a curse.

"Still pretending like you haven't completely fallen for me?" He prodded, the tip of his nose running up my neck.

"I didn't say that," I murmur, running a hand through his hair.

"So you have, fallen for me?" He teased, pulling away from my throat to peer up at me.

"Helion," I whine, my bottom lip protruding as I meet his gaze. "I can't stay here all day, now can I?"

"Who says you can't? The Day Court has no rules against me lounging in bed with beautiful women," He purred. "I've made sure of it." He added with a wink and I rolled my eyes.

"That doesn't sound like a very productive court," I remark, a smile pulling at my lips as I feel our usual banter slide back into place.

He hummed in thought, adjusting out position so his hips were between my legs, his arms wrapped around my waist, and his head on my chest. "Depends on what you consider productive." He mumbled into the cleavage of my breasts.

I scoffed, pulling at his hair and guiding him away from my chest. "You're insatiable," I grumble.

"You love it." He says with an all too confident wink.

"Maybe." I sigh, gripping his shoulder and flipping us over. "But what would your court say if they found out you were bedding your emissary?" I frown at the thought alone.

"I'm their High Lord, they can't say anything unless they wanted their tongues taken—" He suggests, while helping me into a more comfortable position, my head beside his on the pillow, our legs intertwined, my chest pressed against his. "Though I doubt any of them would say a word about you." He reassures, his hand coming to my jaw. "That is unless you wanted them to talk? If so I'd be happy to tell them the events of last night." He smirks and my cheeks glow red, heated beneath his touch.

"Modesty is one of your many virtues I see," I murmur, attempting to ignore my fluttering heartbeat.

"Of course." He gives me a look as if it was a well-known fact. "I'm the very picture of restraint and humility." He quips and I giggle, the sound making his breathing stall for a moment.

His gaze flickers down to mine, his brows slightly creased in conflict. "Stay." He whispered, leaning closer and pecking a kiss on my forehead. "Just a little longer." He added, his lips brushing about my skin.

I sighed, any lingering resolve melting away under his touch. "Just a little longer," I agreed, closing the distance between us as his lips met mine, slow and unhurried, as if the rest of the world could wait.

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[achaotichuman]

The thing is, Tamlin should have the ability to grow any kind of plantation. He should be able to clench his fist and cause an entire forest to shoot up from the ground. He could snap his fingers and where there was once an army is now a rich, dense wood with bodies and scattered limbs spilling out from the roots.

And Eris should be able to cause decay, whatever he touches begins to wilt. He can reduce any life to rot. Wave his hand and entire Court's crops is gone. He should be able to clench his fist around an entire Kingdoms food supply and have self-proclaimed Gods wrapped around his finger.

Kallias should be able to reduce an entire land to a desolate wasteland of snow and ice with a single glance. If he raises his eyes to the sky the sun should be blotted out with darkness and the world should be reduced to freezing temperatures and sudden deadly frosts.

Tarquin should be able to entirely consume land with the sea. Taking a small puddle and turning it to a devasting flood. He should be able to drown entire Courts, and swallow islands and countries with a sweep of his arms.

Helion should be able to reduce a land to scorched earth, withering corpses. He should be capable of shining the sun down on a people and causing things to instantly turn to ash in the wind. With a single command an entire continent could be absolutely nothing but an empty corpse.

Rhysand should be able to drain the light from a kingdom, cursing them to eternal darkness. Leaving them in a kingdom wide blindness and watch as people slowly succumb to their own madness. On the battlefield, their sight is entirely taken and they die at the hands of their fellow men and weapons in blind panic.

I am not too sure about Dawn or Dusk's powers, since that is very much an inbetween. Someone figure that out for me.

But anyway, my point is, the power of the High lords should be directly tied to the magic flowing in their Courts. They should embody the very essence of their Courts, they should be raw, unstoppable power, with no one 'more powerful' than the others. They all balance each other out in some way.

[oristian]

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LUCIEN VANSERRA — HEIR TO THE DAY COURT

I originally intended to wait and post this for @lucienweekofficial but I wanted to share this stunning artwork with everyone early! I cannot wait to see Lucien and Helion and their interactions in the next books and I have high hopes that Lucien will be appointed to some title—either High Lord, or Prince—within the Day Court. The vision was Helion crowning his son and Lucy brought this idea to life wonderfully.

ART CREDIT @lucychanart

COMMISSION BY @oristian / @/ktbookishclub

characters belong to Sarah J Maas 🦊☀️

REPOSTS ALLOWED WITH FULL CREDIT

[florencemtrash]

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter One

Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warning: Mentions of death and violence

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

Layers of gosammer fabric rippled with movement as you smoothed the bodice of your dress. Warm sunlight flooded through the stained glass windows, getting trapped in the sheer material until you glowed shades of yellow and blue. You tugged the sleeves over your hands and took a deep breath. 

It was a great honor to be invited to the Sun Palace, and for the Summer Solstice no less. The other Librarians of the 12th sector athenaeum - lovingly nicknamed The Alcove - had been absolutely astounded when the letter came addressed to you, hand delivered by pegasus. It was an honor. It was a great honor. You knew this. But your heart buzzed uncomfortably within your ribs like a bird desperate to take to the skies.

“Do I really frighten you that much?”

You swiveled your head to the side, finally acknowledging your High Lord after minutes of silence. Helion shot you a smile full of light and warmth. Light and warmth. Everything about Helion screamed it - from the sunburst crown on his head to the glow of his brown skin. He may as well have been carved from burnt amber. Helion’s very presence was enough to melt the hearts and open the legs of any fae - male or female. Even now you saw some of the female courtiers shooting you envious looks full of heat and longing. It made you cringe uncomfortably.

You shook your head, feeling the weight of the pearls woven into your hair settle at the base of your neck.

“No.” You said quickly, “I apologize, High Lord. It’s not you. I just… haven’t been around this many people before.” 

“You take after your mother,” Helion said, that bright smile slipping into something fonder, more full of regret, “She was never one for parties either.”

You’d taken after your mother in just about everything - your eyes, your hair, the way you walked, even the way you took your coffee. Maybe if your mother had allowed you to be around Helion earlier on you would have learned his charm, absorbed his charisma like a sponge. As it was, the only thing you’d inherited from Helion was a stubborn power you couldn’t control. 

You clasped your hands together behind your back, as if that would be enough to hide your talent. With the ability to absorb knowledge and memories through touch, Clairvoyants were incredibly rare and highly sought after in the Day Court. Helion had worked hard to conceal your power and your identity, so when you’d been given first pick of athenaeums following your apprenticeship, it was to no one’s surprise you’d chosen the one furthest from the city. 

The Alcove. Your home. How you wished you were there now, nestled away in your attic apartment above the library. Comfortable. Alone.

Helion’s gaze softened as he regarded you. He shouldn’t have been as much of a stranger to you as he was. But he was no stranger to your work - always methodical, always precise, always handled with the same degree of love and attention that fae showed their children. You’d nearly died protecting The Alcove when Amarantha ransacked the Day Court libraries, smuggled books and knowledge across court lines during her reign. 

Perhaps you had inherited some bold streak from Helion after all. 

“How many times have I told you to call me Helion?”

“Six.” You said without hesitation.  

“Of course you would remember such a thing,” He said, clicking his tongue, “Would you take a turn around the room with me?” He asked, extending a poor man’s olive branch, “I have guests I would like to introduce you to.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. You’d planned to remain glued to this pillar until nightfall, half hidden by the quartet that was beginning to rush the tune in time to the next song. The spirited piece was coming just in time for champagne drunk party goers to make their way to the dance floor. 

You sighed, “Must I?” The performance of it all - the dress, the hair, the party, the pearls  - was more than you were used to, something orchestrated by Helion to finally get you to leave The Alcove. He would have dragged you to more parties if you weren’t so stubborn about ignoring non-business related correspondences. Hence the pegasus. 

“Your High Lord commands it.” Helion said smugly and moved his arm out to the side, gesturing for you to leave your little bubble of safety. “And you may very well come to thank me.” 

You rolled your eyes, “Fine.” You waited a moment before saying, “Helion.” The casual name felt unfamiliar on my tongue.

He clapped his hands together, attracting the attention of one of the sons of Autumn. He shook his head of flames and scowled into his whiskey, handsome features twisting into something uglier.

“Finally!” Helion’s voice boomed, “Let’s enjoy ourselves.”

You chased after his long strides, hoping to stay within the radius of space fae gave to a High Lord. And it worked. For some time. You bounced between various pockets of fae, dodging servers with platters of cheeses, wine, pastries, and more balanced on shoulders. Helion’s deep voice reverberated off the walls as he laughed and clapped people on their shoulders, whispered in their ears, and threw casual, flirtatious winks. He shielded you from the vipers and introduced you to his friends as a talented researcher instead of his bastard daughter. But despite your best efforts, someone still touched you, and your power reared its ugly head.

It happened when one of the Summer Court delegates, drunk and giggling, crashed into a female in a flurry of teal silk, who - like a domino - fell onto you. You landed on your knees, palms stinging from broken glass as flashes of memory and knowledge raced through your mind.

A diagram of the Day Court cities taken in secret from the 29th sector cartography athenaeum. A page ripped from one of Helion’s private collection tomes. A sketch of a still, black lake, and the being of death and destruction that resided there. 

Koschei.

The name spilled onto your mind like ink in water, followed by horrible memories of slaughter and violence. Enough blood to turn the lake red.

The flood of information dulled and the female became nothing more than a willowy tower of tulle with ivory hair retreating into the crowds.

You gasped for breath, limbs shaking. 

The air. It was too thin here. Too suffocating.

Koschei

Koschei 

Koschei

“Are you alright?” A male asked. His deep, careful voice felt like the calm before a hurricane.

You jerked back from the scarred hands that reached for you, wrapping your arms around yourself as you scrambled to your feet. A horrible rip sounded through the now quiet ballroom as you tripped on your dress and tore the bottom layers. And if it couldn’t become more embarrassing, when you stood up you came face to face with none other than the Spymaster of the Night Court. 

Devastatingly beautiful - were the first thoughts that came to mind. So beautiful in fact that he shook you from your visions and the horrible power attached to the lake. The edges of him flickered in and out of existence, clouded by shadows that fluttered about like smoke above a flame. You flinched when they came closer to you before being wrenched back on some invisible leash. He was as gorgeous as the rumors claimed, every inch of him seemingly carved out of black obsidion. 

The flash of shame that crossed his hazel eyes quickly faded into nothing and he clasped his hands behind his back, cursing Cassian for convincing him to go without gloves tonight.

“Y/n, are you alright?” Helion neared closer to you, pointing to your bloody hands. But the pain was nothing. You thought your heart might burst in your chest from the nerves. The more you thought about your splattered remains on the crisp marble tiles, the worse you felt.

The other members of the Night Court looked on with concern. You recognized the other Illyrian warrior - The Lord of Bloodshed he was called. His wings were partially extended, shielding you from the worst of the crowd. And the High Lord and High Lady needed no introduction, decked out in their slim-cut robes and dress. The silvery embroidery reminded you of the stars in the night sky you gazed at when you couldn’t fall asleep and the rest of the Day Court denizens had long since snuffed out their lights. There was a dangerous beauty that wrapped around the group as tightly as the Spymaster’s shadows clung to his body. And you’d just embarrassed the High Lord of the Day Court - your father - in front of them.

Azriel stepped back, reigning in his shadows despite their many desperate protests, “I apologize, I didn’t mean to-”

But you ignored his words, gathered up your skirts, and ran towards the palace gardens, leaving nothing behind but a thin trail of blood and silk, the scent of vanilla, and a brooding, heart-broken Shadowsinger.

Heavy air mingled with copious amounts of perfume, gave way to crisp clarity. The sun was just beginning to dip towards the horizon, like two lovers whispering in each other’s ears as you sprinted down the stairs past two drunk Peregryn soldiers half-hidden behind a rosebush. Their tawny feathers dipped in and out from behind the leaves like ocean waves.

A child’s doll half-buried in ash. The ring of electricity in the air and the metallic, buzzing stench of blood and rot in your nose. Suffocating. Suffocating. 

It was terrible. Worse than any memory you’d slipped into before.

“Y/n!” 

Koschei.

Koschei.

Koschei.

Everyone had experienced horror under Amarantha’s rule and during the war against Hybern. You’d been subjected to it too many times to count. Every brush of skin, every well-meaning touch from someone else had been a cruelty. 

The lake. What’s buried beneath the lake? 

So why did this knowledge feel so different?

Andrian. ANDRIAN!!!

“Y/n! Stop!” Hellion’s robes billowed out behind him like sun rays, dazzling brighter than gold. 

What’s buried beneath the lake? 

What’s buried beneath the lake?

What’s buried beneath the lake?

You didn’t realize you were murmuring the words until Helion gripped you by the shoulders and spun you around. You were brought back by more comforting knowledge - Helion’s memories. Memories of you as a babe, chubby legs wobbling beneath you as you took your first steps into your mother’s waiting arms. A flood of pride entering his chest that felt more like sadness than anything else. 

“Y/n!” He shook you again.

He has a room made up for you in the Sun Palace. He hides all the birthday gifts there that he planned to give to you, but never did. You are one of his greatest regrets.

You blinked rapidly, clearing out your thoughts and shoving the High Lord back with all your might. You didn’t need this right now. You didn’t need two hundred years of fatherly guilt to catch up to you. To the both of you. Not tonight. Not ever.

Without another word you winnowed away. 

__________

“I’m sorry about that,” Helion said, rolling his shoulders and rubbing his hands together.

He was grateful the party had returned to its previous rhythms in his absence, but Rhysand took note of the discomfort ladeled upon his shoulders, the hints of regret in his eyes. It was a feeling he was all too familiar with. 

The sun continued to slip behind the peaks of the mountains, changing the temperature of the room as the ivory and gold-plated walls began to take on a warmer shade. 

“Y/n is not used to such spaces.” He explained, “I should have done more to prepare her for tonight.” 

Rhysand waved off the apology. “There’s no need for apologies, Helion.”

“I do hope she’s ok.” Feyre said. With a snap of Helion’s fingers the blood had been wiped from the floor along with the spilled wine and broken glass. “Her hands-” 

Azriel stiffened, his arms suddenly hidden from view by the shadows that wound up his arms. Feyre quickly changed the topic. “This Y/n, is she the Librarian you’ve told us so much about?”

Helion’s smile was a prideful one, “The one and only.” He lowered his voice, careful to shield his words from any curious ears with a faint blanket of magic, “I would love to claim the credit for helping with your last pregnancy, but in truth it was all Y/n.” 

Feyre blinked in surprise. Her second pregnancy - although much better than the first - had still been a struggle. Rhysand had reached out to Helion in desperation, hoping once again for a safer method of birthing their winged-daughter. After spending months on end combing through the deepest depths of the oldest Day Court libraries, she’d delivered to them a text on cesarean sections. The tradition was a human one, and had been considered too primitive for fae, but with Feyre’s success Madja was reevaluating its usefulness. The High Lord and High Lady had much to thank you for when it came to little Velaria. 

Cassian raised his brows and Azriel couldn’t help the small smile that teased his lips. For such a timid bookworm you’d saved them a great deal of trouble. All at once that sense of pride for a female he didn’t even know fell away. You’d looked at him with such… fear. Flinched away from his touch like you knew exactly the kind of monster he was when all he’d wanted to do was help you.

“We’ll have to thank her personally then.” Rhysand said.

He raised Feyre’s hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her palm and looking at her like the love-sick male that he was. He still had nightmares about Nyx’s birth - how pale Feyre had become, the stench of blood in the air, and Nyx’s tiny, motionless body. He was ready to offer you a mountain of gold for preventing such a thing from happening again. 

Azriel lowered his gaze, overwhelmed by the look that passed between the two mates. It felt like an intrusion to be standing in front of them. It was hard to see his brother and Feyre so openly affectionate with one another and not feel slivers of envy enter his heart. Cassian would have similarly been glued to Nesta’s side if she’d accepted the invitation, and although Mor was reluctant to venture out into the public world of courtiers with Emerie, she would have made it clear that she was taken. It meant that Azriel was often left to stand alone at events like this, gracefully rejecting the advances of males and females who hoped to lure the mysterious Shadowsinger into their beds. He’d been close to joining you in your solitude when Helion had charmed and whisked you away.

Azriel shifted his attention to the quartet, specifically to the little alcove to the left of the stage where he’d first noticed you. You’d stood there so quiet and observant, politely declining any male who offered you food or drinks or a dance. And there was no confusion as to why. You’d looked breathtaking in a pearly gown that clung to you like wisps of fog over the Illyrian mountaintops. 

“After the party I’ll take you to her apartment. Allow you all to properly introduce yourselves.” Helion said in a burst of brilliance.

Cassian prodded Azriel’s ribs, a knowing look in his eyes as he watched the now visibly uncomfortable Shadowsinger. 

But if Helion noticed, he didn’t care. If there was any collection of fae with the power to break you out of your shell, it was them.

“But until then! We dance! Come now Cassian, dance with me.” 

Cassian snorted as Helion clasped a muscular arm around his shoulders and heaved him over to the dance floor where fae were already congregated in a tangle of limbs and wine. Feyre and Rhysand joined soon after, the High Lady throwing back an apologetic smile as she joined the crowd with her mate and Azriel was left to stand alone once again.

Next Chapter ->

______

Author's note:

I have too many thoughts and ideas and got sucked into writing this one. Also, I wanted a nice Azriel fic to follow up Flame, Shadow, Beast so... enjoy!

Love,

Florence B.

Taglist: @rosebunnysblog @icey--stars @laceandsuch @coralseacourt @cherryinsalemverse @flowerprincezz @valeridarkness @annaaaaa88 @deeshag @bluesiphonsbaby @allyjoe755

[primulagoldworthy]

Art @bookartby_amai on Instagram.

My favorite two Acotar boys!! I hope we get to see their epic father-son-relationship develop in the upcoming books.

[xmalfoyweasleyx]

Fun night - Lucien x reader

Summary: You get drunk with Helion, so Lucien decides to take care of his drunk best friend. What he didn't know, is that it will lead up to some interesting confessions.

Warnings: Alcohol, drunk and flirty reader,

A/N: I'll maybe write something like this for every character but with a different situation? I love this kind of confessions <3 Also I LOVE DAY COURT LUCIEN!! Enjoy x

It was already past midnight when your best friend, Lucien, finally found you in the throne room of the day court. A glass of wine in your hand and your head on Helion’s shoulder, both laughing.

“There you are” Lucien said with a sigh. “Lu!!” you squealed. “What did you do to her” he sighed out to his father when he saw your messed up state. You were giggly, leaning onto the high lord of day, both grinning thanks to the faerie wine you’ve been drinking all night. “I did nothing, y/n and me just had a fun night together, we found my best bottles in the cellar” Helion grinned.

Lucien was your best friend, but you met him because of your connection with the high lord. You worked for him, and when Lucien came here to live in the day court with his father, you quickly became good friends. 

“I was worried, we were going to the park together, remember? You weren’t there so I've been looking for you all evening” Lucien said. “Now now son, you don’t have to be so anxious, y/n/n was just here with me, having some fun.” he mumbles drunkenly. “Sooo fun” you reassured in a slow voice. “God Helion, your son is so sexy, isn’t that right?” you smirked , biting your lip, looking at him like you finally realized what he looked like. Your eyes hungrily tracing the lines of his muscles that peak out of the white robe he's wearing. “How much did you drink exactly y/n?” Lucien remarked. “Apparently, I hold my liquor better than her” Helion sighs when he notices you’re far more drunk than he is.

Your eyes started to close a little, Lucien noticed it immediately. "You okay y/n?" he asked. “Lu, I’m tired, wanna sleep” you whine. “Don’t worry sweetie, I’ll help you, come here” he cooed. Lucien’s strong arms wrapped around you, pulling your slump body against his. You comfortably lean into his shoulder, wrapping your arm around him. “Let’s get you to your room” he says.

You both walk through the beautiful corridors of the palace, your body leaning heavily against his. “I’m sorry Lu, didn’t mean to get drunk and forget our date” you mumbled. “Don’t worry baby, it’s okay” he answered, trying to not get flustered because of you using the word ‘date’ for your walk in the park.

"You smell amazing, you know that" you breathed in his smell and then you stumble over you legs, almost falling, but Lucien catches you. "Woopsie" you giggled. "God y/n, you scared me" he sighed relieved when you were back steadily against him. "My knight in shining armor" you smiled, placing your hand on his firm chest. Oh god, Lucien didn't know how he could survive all this sudden drunk flirtatiousness. It made him all shy and flustered, but he tried to calm himself down. This probably meant nothing, you were just drunk and didn't know what you were saying, right? But his focus kept going to your soft small hand, rubbing his chest so lovingly. Was this what you always wanted to do, finally coming out?

When you get into your room, he gently lays you on your bed. He brushes the hair that fell on your forehead behind your ears, your eyes fluttering shut because of the feeling of his soft hands on your face. “You want me to help you wash your face?” he smiled. You nodded in answer. Lucien grabbed a washing cloth and cleaned your face gently. Then he grabbed your night clothes, laying them on the bed next to you. “You gonna undress me now?” you smirk lazily. Lucien couldn’t help but laugh a little. “You’re so drunk y/n” he chuckled. “What?! It’s not like I only want you to undress me when I’m drunk Lu. In fact, I would like to undress you! Just.. j-just wanna know how that muscles of you feel under your shirt” you rambled with the occasional hiccups in between. He only sighed in answer, flustered but not wanting to take advantage of the situation. You would likely forget this anyway.

He helped you in your night clothes, sometimes turning around to give you privacy. “Here you go, all ready for sleep” he said. You were staring at him so intensely, looking at the russet color of his eyes like you’d never seen it before. “You’re very pretty Lucien” you sigh out, tracing his scar with the tip of your finger. Lucien blushed immediately, you never gave him compliments like this. “And you’re even more pretty when you blush” you smile drunkenly.

“Thanks y/n, I think you’re really pretty too” he breathed, pulling the blanket over you. But your lips started to wobble. “Hey hey, what’s wrong?” he said worried, placing a hand on your cheek. “You really think I’m pretty?” you whined with tears in your eyes. “Of course I do” he reassured. “But you only say that because I’m your friend, don’t you?” you sniffled. “I-I…” Lucien stuttered, not knowing what to answer. “It’s okay Lu, I’ll get over you, I promise. I know I can” you confessed disappointed, your eyes down. Lucien was shocked to say the least. What did you mean by that? You never gave him the feeling you might see him as more than a friends. Sometimes he even wonders if you have feelings for his father, he knows Helion certainly wouldn't mind that. He even caught himself being jealous only moments ago, when he found you with his father.

“What do you mean, get over me?” he whispered, intertwining your hair with his fingers. “Because I want you under me” you whined loudly. “W-what?” he chuckled. But when he waited for your explanation, you started to fall asleep already, your eyes fluttering close in the comfort of his fingers slowly stroking your hair and the soft feeling of your blanket. “I love you” you mumble almost unintelligible, but Lucien heard it. “I love you too y/n” he whispered.

And when your eyes fell fully closed, he watched you for a while, savoring the opportunity. He listened to your soft sighs and the way your lashes looked, resting on your flushed cheeks. It took every ounce of self-control he had in him, not to go lay next to you.

So he tried again, pulling on the invisible thread in his chest. Hoping for an answer. But it never came. He'd tried over and over the past year. Maybe one day you’ll feel it too. Maybe one day you’ll remember what you confessed to him tonight. Maybe one day, you'll know.

His mate.

part 2

[dee-writes-smut]

COURTS SERIES MAIN MASTERLIST

Lucien Vanserra x Female Reader

You run a flower shop in the lively hustle and bustle that is the center of the Autumn Court. Your dream has always been to travel the courts to meet new people and see new things. When Beron finally meets his end and a new High Lord steps in, you find yourself perfectly positioned to sell your shop and live your dreams. The plan was to go to the High Lady's coronation and then leave the next morning, unfortunately (or fortunately) the High Lady runs into you and takes a liking to you, offering you a position to be her traveling emissary when she finds out about your dream. You accept, only to find yourself paired with a more experienced emissary with a reputation for working for both the Spring and Night Court. Will love find a way to blossom along the way? Or will he never be able to let go of his mate who never returned his affections unless it was for show? 

Content Warnings Include: banter, aggression, descriptions of toxic relationships, violence, mentions of death and loss, Tampon interactions (Tamlin), and more to come as chapters are posted!

NOTE: this is a spin-off to the Flowers Series, if you are planning on reading that, then I highly recommend that you do that first before reading this series as there are spoilers to the ending of that fic. With that said, if you don't wish to read Flowers, then you do NOT have to for this story to make sense. Thank you and enjoy! -Dee

dividers for this series are made by the wonderful @/tsunami-of-tears

IN PROGRESS

THE AUTUMN COURT | none (a hint of fluff?) | These last few centuries you have felt that your home court has become drab and all too familiar. In the rush of a new High Lord, you finally decide to follow your dream, but when meeting a certain High Lady, you're forced to ask yourself whether or not you wish to make your dream bigger than you could have ever imagined. Are you willing to take the risk and jump into the unknown? |

THE SPRING COURT | a, f, h/c | A conversation with the High Lady leaves you with a lot to think about, especially the odd tug you feel toward Lucien. It certainly doesn't help when you both set off on your journey and in between the rustle of the changing trees and the calls of the birds around you, you discover a soft side to Lucien that makes you feel warm in a terrifying way. |

THE SUMMER COURT | a (?), f | Tarquin's court is beautiful, so dazzling it takes your breath away. If only that were the only thing. |

THE WINTER COURT | f, a (??) | The Winter Court is in desperate need of help and you are finally able to be of some help, to do the job you were meant to do in the first place. |

DAWN | ??? | ??? |

DAY | ??? | ??? |

NIGHT | ??? | ??? |

super secret potential extra chapter?

[bonecarversbestie]

I've seen a theory floating around that Eris is actually also Helion's son, and while it’s an interesting theory, I think it takes a lot of impact out of both Eris’s and Lucien's stories.

Eris has a potentially beautiful arc ahead of him where he can prove that he is more than his blood and upbringing. He has the chance to break the tradition of abuse and tyranny in the Autumn Court, and lead it into a new age.

And Lucien has spent his life running from titles and power even though he is clearly destined to rule. He can’t really do that if Eris is actually the heir to the Day Court.

Also, I just love the idea of Lucien and Eris repairing their relationship and being High Lords together.

[dawneternal]

What I think the acotar characters smell like

Emerie - woodsmoke, herbal tea

Gwyn - honeysuckle, warm rain

Clotho - sweet mint, parchment

Tarquin - sea salt, lime, coconut

Eris - brown sugar, whiskey, smoke

Helion - vetiver, saffron, magnolia

Thesan - apricot, sage

Kallias - vanilla, cedar, snowdrop

Vivianne - violets, sugar plum, fresh snow

Tamlin - moss, lily of the valley, blackberry

Lucien - Leather, bergamot

Lady of Autumn - clementine, clove, amber

Beron - tobacco, cider, oak

Nuala and Cerridwen - moonflower, peach, sandalwood

Rhysand's mom - cardamom, moonflower

[works-of-heart]

Working on a lot of different art projects! Here's a WIP of Helion! I wanted to move away from the toga theme and put him in colors described with Day Court. Keeping it flowy, and yet regal at the same time. Lucien definitely got his smolder Hehe!

[lilac-witch]

Opalescence - Azriel x Reader

masterlist

Summary: A visit to the esteemed day court sets the Mother's plans for a certain shadowsinger in motion. Meaning: "a unique gem that can pick up all colours of the spectrum depending on the light" Word Count: +1k Warnings: None

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

The Day Court was the polar opposite of the Courts of Night. Sunshine illuminated every corner of the vast land. The golden palaces gleamed in the light, appearing like masses of molten metal.

"Welcome, my friends!"

The booming voice of the High Lord of Day broke Azriel's trance, his eyes squinting to look past the glowing light that inevitably followed Helion wherever he went.

"Thank you for the invitation, Helion. We are extremely grateful to be offered a few days of sanctuary and relaxation," his High Lord replied, his tone as cool as the breeze that wove through Velaris.

"Ah well, I would be lying if I didn't say my intentions were slightly selfish," Helion replied, winking in the direction of himself and Mor.

Before Azriel had the chance to roll his eyes, a gentle yet firm voice echoed through the space.

"Come now, Uncle. No one wants to be subjected to your atrocious flirting."

A figure emerged from behind Helion's colossal bronze body.

A female, with skin as pale as quartz, brown hair that glowed gold in the sun, and eyes that reflected the molten gold of the Day Court palaces.

"Ah, nieceling, you wound me."

The inner circle's eyes widened in shock. No one had been aware that Helion's long-dead sister, Mother protect her soul, had conceived a child.

The female's attention shifted from her uncle to the inner circle, before finally resting on the hazel of Azriel's eyes.

"It's wonderful to finally make your acquaintance. My uncle has told me all about you, some things I wish he had rather kept to himself," she said, shooting a look at the grinning High Lord.

"Forgive us, my lady, but we happen to know nothing about you."

The female turned to Rhys, a soft smile on her effortlessly beautiful face.

"There is nothing to forgive. My uncle likes to keep me private, although his attempts are becoming more and more futile. My name is Y/n," she said, once again shooting a look at Helion, who had now grown seemingly bashful.

Her attention returned to Azriel, and his skin felt an immeasurable warmth, as though he had been bathed in pure sunshine.

Their eyes remained locked throughout the rest of the introductions, until only he remained unknown.

"And your name, lord of shadows?"

Her voice was like music to his ears, his shadows twirling about in excitement at being acknowledged.

"Azriel, my lady. But I am no lord."

Y/n nodded, her lips turning upwards slightly, before turning to follow her uncle through the maze of halls.

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

Three days later, Azriel once again found himself in Y/n's company.

He had been wandering through the palace before he stumbled upon one of the hundreds of libraries that called Day Court home. Now, Azriel busied himself with filtering through the shelves of leather-bound novels, looking for something to occupy his time.

"That is one of my favourites."

Azriel almost dropped the book he was holding. His shadows hadn't alerted him of another's presence, and he hadn't heard any footsteps echoing on the wooden floor.

He turned, coming face to face with the golden-eyed female who had been haunting his thoughts, thoughts that had previously been occupied by Elain Archeron.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, lips tilting to the side in an attempt not to laugh at the situation.

"Did I scare you, Shadowsinger?"

Azriel found himself at a loss for words as he gazed upon her. She wore a black jumpsuit, a common colour between the Day and Night Courts, accompanied by golden jewellery that was the same shade as her eyes.

Azriel cleared his throat, a light blush forming on his cheeks.

"I, uhm, didn't hear you coming, my lady."

She waved him off. "Please, call me Y/n. I hate formalities."

Azriel nodded, his hands still grasping the book tightly.

Y/n glanced down at the book, and then looked back into his eyes.

"Can you still feel the heat of the flames?"

Azriel's mouth fell open in shock.

"I apologize if that was too forward. It's just that your hands appeared to have been burned..." she said, her face warming slightly.

"Yes," Azriel breathed. "Sometimes, it feels like I'm reliving that night..."

Azriel watched as she attempted to take a step towards him before hesitating. Azriel willed the flinch he felt to not appear physically through his body.

A moment later, Y/n stepped forward, her hands outstretched.

"May I?"

It was Azriel's turn to hesitate. His hands were his biggest insecurity, his greatest disappointment. They were a horror to gaze upon, a horror to feel, and a horror to remember. So many awful things had occurred to his hands, and his hands in turn had done so many awful things.

"Azriel?"

He snapped out of the daze, gazing into those pools of molten gold. Swallowing hard, Azriel shakily placed his hands into Y/n's awaiting palms.

Moments passed with the pair standing with intertwined hands, gazes locked on one another. But then Y/n's hand began to glow with a soft, golden light.

Azriel's expression morphed to one of shock as he watched the scene unfold, as he felt a cooling sensation flow through the scarred flesh.

"I could heal them if you want, but I think the scars provide proof of great strength and resilience," she said as soft as the first winter's snow.

Azriel returned his attention to Y/n's face. It was then that he felt it. That magnificent warmth and pull of fate. A mating bond that glowed gold, like the female before him. The female at the other end of the bond.

Azriel dropped to his knees as tears of joy clouded his eyes.

"Mate..." he said with disbelief. Disbelief at the blessing the Mother had presented him with after so much torment.

He watched as Y/n kneeled before him, taking his face gently in her hands, her thumbs brushing the stray tears away.

"Yes," she said, smile as bright as the sun. "If you'll have me."

The mating bond thrummed with a multitude of colours, resembling the whirlwind of emotions felt between its two participants.

Azriel had been alone in the dark for so long But now, there was someone to guide him back into the light.

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

HI lovelies! When I tell you I've had this ingrained in my head for weeks, and I've been dying to write it out! I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting so long, but I promise to do my best to get content out. Gossamer will be released sometime tomorrow, so you'll have two new reads for the weekend! I hope you're all doing well... until next time ;)

p.s. Don't forget my inbox is open to any and all requests!

[surielstea]

Books and Biscuits

1k celebration request by @dee-writes-smut

Pairing: Helion x Fem!Reader

Summary: A few teasing words over a biscuit turn into a shocking discovery.

Warnings: Suggestive | sexual tension | banter

A. Note: Reader’s invention in this is some rendition of a microwave, in case that wasn’t clear 😭😭

1.7k words

The knock at my door made me jump, the magnifying glass situated in front of me rattling at the sudden startle. I sigh and remove my safety glasses, pushing them to the top of my head, in turn getting the hair out of my face despite a few wisps to frame it.

I march towards the door, stuffing the pliers— that I had been using to meticulously rewire my new invention, into the pocket of my apron. I grab the knob of the door and swing it open, looking up, and up, towards the High Lord of the day court, the sun beaming brightly behind him as if he brought it with him.

"I thought I told you to leave them on the porch." I gesture to the stack of books in his hands. He gives me a sultry grin, the kinds that's guaranteed to have dropped panties before.

"I wanted to see how annoyed you'd be when opening the door," He shrugs and my nose crinkles in dismay. "There she is," He hums and I grumble a curse and take the heavy books from his hands. The Day Court was know for their library's, and unfortunately the engineering section at the House of Wind amounted to less than a dozen books. Which left me turning to Helion, truly the worst case scenario.

I go to close the door but he slips into my apartment before I get the chance to shut him out. I grit my teeth at his intrusion but slam the door with a click anyways.

I look to the Lord, who was gazing at every inch of my space like a kid in a candy store.

"Sure, make yourself at home." My voice was dripping in sarcasm but something told me he'd be genuinely taking me up on that.

"Well I came all this way just for a couple of books," He argues, spinning towards me.

"You rode on the back of a Pegasus, I think you'll survive." I retort, strolling over to my work table and setting the tower of books down with a thud.

"Meallan is safe out there, right?" He tenses slightly and I look to him with creased brows.

"You put him in the barn?" I tilt my head and he nods his head. "Then yes, Helion he's safe." I say, then turn back to what I was doing before his knock rudely interrupted my flow, attempting to ignore the idea of a majestic Pegasus in a stable with the average horses.

He's quiet for a long moment, allowing me to return to my work but now that he was here I was hyper aware of everything he did, and if I didn't hear him, even with my pointed ears, than he was far too quiet.

I whip around to face him, slightly paranoid, only to find him leaned down with his face near one of my unfinished projects, his eyes narrowed on it as if trying to figure out how it worked.

"What's this?" He reaches for the handle on the metal box and my eyes widen.

"Don't touch!" I rule and he looks back to me with a slightly shocked expression.

His outstretched hand curls into a fist before he tucks it back to his side and straightens to his original, tall height.

"Wouldn't dream of it, sunshine," He says with an innocent smile.

"You're so irritating," I deadpan.

"It's part of my charm." He shrugs with a smooth wink and I scoff, turning away from him and back to the dusty books.

"Of course it is." I grumble.

I crack a large red book open, the pages filled to the brim with valuable knowledge that I wouldn't know if it weren't for the High Lord, but the moment I begin to feel any rapport for him I hear a resounding beep echoing through the room.

My hand freezes on the book and I turn my head to face the gorgeous male. "I thought I told you not to touch it," I sigh, walking over towards him.

"Why not?" He says, retracting his hand from the keypad on the face of the metal door.

"It's not finished yet, you're lucky it didn't explode." I grumble, squatting down to get a closer look, making sure he didn't tamper with anything too severely.

"What does it do?" He murmurs curiously, tucking his hands behind his back to stop himself from touching anything else, which was for the best.

"It's a heater," I explain half-heartedly, hoping he'd leave with a lack of entertainment. But alas, he remained.

He analyzed the metal box with a crinkle between his dark brows, confusion evident over his features.

"Like a, mini sauna?" He said, his voice unsure and I glanced up at him— which was a major mistake because I always forget how beautiful he is, those amber eyes practically golden against his rich brown skin, and his deep black hair that swept over his shoulders. He was void of his pointed crown and embellished robe, instead dressed in casual clothing— or rather, the most casual the High Lord could get.

"No, it's for food," I explain but he looks at me entirely dumbfounded, the knot between his brows giving away his confusion. I huff a sigh and spin on my heel, walking over to my desk where my breakfast from over an hour ago sat, an untouched biscuit sat on the edge of the plate. I plucked it up, along with a napkin and walking back over to the unfinished invention he was so curious about.

I shoo him out of the way before opening the sliding door of the box, then placing the food inside and pushing it shut. "Press that one," I point to a green button and he follows direction, an immediate buzzing sounds the moment he does.

He startles slightly and I nearly laugh, I fold my lips into a tight line, attempting to contain my amusement.

He narrows his eyes on the machine, as if it was a new enemy he had to find the weakness of.

"The water molecules in the food vibrate, which produces heat and warms the food." I explain, attempting to distract him from whatever he was plotting in that gorgeous head of his.

The invention's timer runs out and it emits a loud beeping sound to notify that it's finished. Again, he jumped. "It won't actually explode," I reasoned, sliding open the metal door and taking the biscuit out, holding it towards him.

"See? Warm." I say, gesturing to the steam rising from the hot biscuit.

"Brilliant." He murmurs, taking it from my hands and cradling it as if it might shatter with any sudden movement.

"It still needs some modifying." I shake my head, looking to the large box that was far too inconvenient to be used in any kitchen.

"This would be very useful," He murmurs and I look back to him as he picks at the hot bread.

"For?" I ask.

"Mating ceremonies," He looks up at me with a cheeky smirk and I grumble a curse, returning to my work bench.

"Fuck you." I groan.

"When?" He retorts and I turn, unable to get any work done with all his snide remarks.

"You're unbelievable." I grumble, walking back over to him with a sneer but he returns it with a small smile.

"What's so difficult to understand about that?" He tilts his head downward at me and I curse his tall height, the idea of being looked down upon by him sent me into a fit of annoyance.

"The fact that you want me, Azriel, and Cassian all at once, it's inconceivable," I explain and he simply shrugs.

"How so?" His brows twitch together and I smirk.

"You wouldn't even be able to handle me, much less with the others." I cross my arms over my chest and his gentle smile grows into one of amusement.

"Is that a challenge?" He leans forward, looking over me and pinning me with those golden eyes of his.

"You're such a flirt." I scowl, only to hide my blush. His expression didn't falter.

"Only with you." He hums and I visibly recoil, taking offense to such a blatant falsehood.

"Liar," I immediately retort, but this time a flicker of pain flashes across his face. It was unusual to see the High Lord of the Day Court so dim. "I guarantee the moment after we fuck you'd toss me to the side."

"You really think that?" He asks, being entirely genuine and something in his tone makes my stomach knot.

"I do." I remain unwavering as I reply.

"What if we were mates? Then we'd really have a problem." He hums, looking down at the biscuit still in his hand.

"I'd rather be your whore than your mate." I huff beneath my breath and he looks back to me with a glint in his eyes.

"You sure about that?" He smirks.

We hold eye contact for only a second, but that moment stretches into oblivion as I analyze all his features, lit up by a golden beam, bridging directly between us.

My breath hitched as if the tether pierced through me, wrapping around my heart. Gods it felt both terrifying and marvelous at the same time, I hated it and yet I was obsessed with it. I wanted to swim in it, to feel it surround me. I tear my eyes away from the luminescent bridge, favoring the gold of his eyes over the string connecting us. "The mating bond," I whisper softly, because I could think of nothing else to say.

"Don't tell me I've left you that speechless," he remarks, entirely natural about this entire thing which meant— he knew, he's known this entire time and never said anything.

"Lord, fuck me," I grumble out, cursing both the cauldron and the mother for this predicament.

"Oh baby, I'm planning on it." He smirks, his gaze entirely predatory.

I flick my eyes down to the biscuit still in his hands, then back to him. The rush of the mating bond had swept me up so much so that I didn't do much thinking before replying.

"What are you waiting for then? Eat."

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[crazy-ache]

Is the Day Court truly hedonistic in its traditions and ways? Or is the current High Lord, Helion Spell-Cleaver, hiding behind its extravagant orgies as the only way to cope with a rejected mating bond? Does Helion constantly seek sex as a way to soothe the agonizing pain in his soul so he can forget the Lady of Autumn for just one moment of peace? Does he do it to keep himself from madness?

[azrielsfavoriteshadow]

Why I think an LoA and Helion “rejected mates” plot would be more impactful than Elucien’s bond being rejected:

LoA would have rejected 1) a mating bond 2) love 3) a kind and non-abusive partner

She rejected these things to maintain peace between the courts and potentially protect Helion who was not yet a HL from Beron who was

She rejected these things to protect her children bc Beron could use them against her. It shows that love can truly trump a mating bond - ie. love for a child.

We can see how living with a broken mating bond effected them over the years

We can potentially see a reinstated mating bond after it is rejected initially. Imagine a scene where LoA and Helion after all these years finally get to accept their mating bond.

Obviously, I ship Gwynriel and Elucien, but my opinion on the above is irrespective of my ships. I think the emotional impact and the stakes of a broken mating bond is greater with Helion & LoA vs Elucien.