#eris modern au

[secret-third-thing]

Modern AU Eris

Art by @leylses

Commissioned by @secret-third-thing for Day 6 of @erisweek2023

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST

--

She doesn't read acotar, but I asked her what she thought of Eris. Her response was:

BARK BARK BARK BARK!

Honestly, same.

[sodapopwrites]

the first sign of fall chapter three: it's hot when you have a meltdown

college au, the inner circle boys and the reader are bartenders, and also they play hockey in this one.

pairings - eris vanserra x reader, a teensy bit of azriel x reader

summary - all of your friends know about you and eris but refuse to speak on it. as the first hockey game of the season comes, so does the drama.

word count - 4.7k

a/n - this one is a long one...apologies. but i liveeeee for the drama and the constant lack of communication amongst these three. eris is fucking trying though.

read the rest of the series here!

You sat in Cassian and Azriel’s apartment. All of you had gathered to study, though it really seemed like you were the only one doing homework other than Amren. Mor’s book was open in front of her, but she was painting her nails that glimmering shade of red she was so fond of.  Rhys, Cass, and Az were all zeroed in on the TV watching old film reels of their last hockey game. Tomorrow was game day. The Velaris Devils vs the Autumn Court Smokehounds. You had been trying not to think about it and failing. 

“You’re a fucking idiot. What were you even trying to do with that move, Rhys?” 

Cassian pointed at the television and looked at his Rhys with a frustrated expression. Rhys shrugged and muttered something about being experimental. Mor chuckled from her seat and shot the boys a look while shaking her head. 

“You’re coming tomorrow right?” Cassian's voice was now directed at you. You shifted in your seat, chewing the end of your pen, and slowly raising your head to face all three teammates currently staring at you. Your whole friend group knew now…about Eris, but none of them mentioned anything. They all chose to stick with pointed silence. A new tactic, but it grated your nerves all the same. You took a deep breath. 

“Uhm. Yeah I guess.” 

Something soft and large hit you. You picked it up. Azriel’s jersey. Looking at him you arched a brow in question. He shrugged and just mumbled, 

“You’ve been wearing it every game since freshman year. It’s tradition.” 

Mor and Cassian exchanged glances after looking between you and Azriel. Both of them noted the small statement it made. Both of them knowing you’d wear it for traditions sake, not thinking about what it would do to Eris. Both of them knowing that what it would do to Eris, was the exact reason that Azriel offered up the idea in the first place. You nodded, tucking the shirt into your bag before flinging it over your shoulder and standing up. Rhys watched you gather your things and pick up your jacket, 

“You’re leaving?”

You nod and look around the room. At the complete lack of work being done, “I actually have work to do and you three yelling about hockey is…believe it or not…not that a productive study environment for me.” 

He shook his head, full of mock disappointment, “How can you focus on math when the first game of the season is tomorrow?” 

“Well Rhysand…Some of us are on scholarship.” 

He pursed his lips like that. No witty response coming to him now. Cassian frowned and shoved a handful of pretzels in his mouth before speaking, 

“You’re not on scholarship”

You roll your eyes at him, “You don’t know that.” 

“Yeah I do. You’re not on scholarship you’re just anal about grades.” 

You flip him off before heading towards the door. Azriel reached an arm out and caught your wrist as you passed by him. His voice was low as he asked, 

“I’ll see you at the game?” 

You offer him a small smile and nod. You’d see him at the game….you’d also see Eris at the game…playing against each other.  And that thought alone was giving you a headache. 

★ ★ ★ 

You had tucked yourself into a window booth in a coffee shop on campus. It was drizzling outside, red and yellow leaves staining the sidewalk, the streetlights had just come on. Lighting the whole road golden. This was why autumn was your favorite season. It was like he was in the very air around you, every color, every smell. You shook your head. Trying to get Eris out of your head. 

Lucien slid into the seat across from you. His hair slightly wavy and braids ran throughout it, he pushed it over his shoulder as he leaned against the table. You looked up quickly, mistaking the red hair and the tall, broad shouldered, frame for someone else. He saw it in your eyes and cocked his head with a small smirk, 

“You know how I’ve been trying to get you to go out with me for like the last three years?” 

You stop tapping your pen against the wooden table beneath your arm, and stare at him blankly, waiting for him to continue, 

“Imagine my devastation upon finding out you’ve been seeing my brother for the last month.” 

You shake your head and offer him a small smile, “Lucien you have never asked me out seriously.” 

“What the hell did Eris do?” 

“I don’t know.” 

Lucien watched as you shifted in your chair, the smile spreading across your face along with a light blush. He narrowed his eyes at you, he knew exactly what Eris had done to get this whole ball rolling. He had found you at a party, tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, leaned in close, and did that stare he always did. The whole routine ended with the two of you talking for a while, laughing and trading light hearted insults, before he cocked his head towards the door and offered you a ride home. It always seemed to work for him. The fact that it had worked on you surprised Lucien a little bit. Although…It wasn’t every day that Eris offered a girl a ride home. It wasn’t everyday that Eris didn’t just hook up with a girl at the party before promptly leaving and not really talking to her again. But from the jump his brother had wanted you in his house…in his space. 

“So if I started acting like a cocky asshole would you give me a kiss too?” 

“Started?” 

Lucien clicked his tongue at your remark before pulling your coffee cup towards him and taking a sip. He nodded towards you, 

“You going to the game tomorrow?”

“Why do you care? Mr. I joined the frisbee team specifically to piss off my dad.” 

Lucien chuckled. Remembering how angry his father had been when he announced at family dinner that he had not gotten onto the hockey team like Eris, but that he instead had gone out of his way to play competitive frisbee in the park every weekend. 

“I don’t care. A certain admirer was hoping you'd be there to cheer him on…or are you two still pretending that nobody knows what’s going on between you?” 

Lucien pointed a finger, accusatory at you, with a teasing smile. You flip a page of your notebook absentmindedly. Why was it that you could never find a spot to do your homework in peace. Never. You sigh, 

“Yeah I’m going. I always go. For my friends.” 

Lucien nodded slowly, musing on the friend's comment, “Right. Because that’s not going to get messy.” 

“What are you implying?” 

“Are you going to pretend that the tension with Azriel and Eris isn’t going to be fucking palpable to anyone with half a braincell?” 

You ignored that comment. Choosing to zero in on your homework once more. Your eyes switched between your notes and the notes Eris had given you. There were perks to him being a year older than you, he had class note’s for most of the classes you happened to be taking this year. Lucien gave you a quick once over, before pulling a book out of his back pocket and leaning back in his chair. Deciding to sit with you for a little while. 

As the silence stretched on, the music of the cafe humming softly in the background, the scratch of your pen against paper insistent. Lucien found himself studying you. Your deliberate avoidance of anything in the past with your so-called friend. He couldn’t stop himself from being nosy. 

“Do you guys never talk about what happened two years ago?” 

Your eyes snapped to him. Alarmed. No you did not talk about it. 

Two years ago. When something in your dynamic with Azriel shifted…forever. 

You were upset. You had gotten too drunk and like always he seemed to be there. The first person to find you when you were upset. The only person who’s comfort ever seemed to actually matter. His quiet solace, exactly what you wanted when you were inebriated and distressed. You remembered the way you leaned into his hug. The way you looked up at him and without thinking kissed him full force. The way he responded immediately. The way he had pulled you into his room….

The way the next morning you had dressed as quietly as you could and snuck out before he could wake up. The way the two of you never talked about it. Both of you hoping the other was too drunk to really remember what actually happened. Your friendship went on like nothing was different. All your friends knew. No one talked about it. 

Your voice was clipped when you responded, “No we don’t.” 

Lucien let it drop. Deciding maybe it was better not to push it. Maybe it was better to let it stay forgotten. 

★ ★ ★ 

Eris had one hand against the counter. Leaning on it as he pushed a wooden spoon around in a pot. You watch from your stool. Your eyes rake over him, hair mussed and his sweater a little baggy, a thread at the cuff of his sleeve coming loose. 

“Are you sure you can cook?” 

He didn’t turn to look at you, his focus entirely on the stove in front of him, “Why do you have no faith in me?” 

You chuckle quietly, “I have faith…in most aspects of you.” 

He started to plate whatever it is that he had made, still using his body to block it from your sightline. Finally he turned around and placed a bowl in front of you, moving to sit next to you at the kitchen island, 

“Pasta is kind of hard to mess up.” He stated before kissing your temple and pointedly looking at your food, waiting for you to try it. You took a bite and nodded slowly, making a mockingly concerned face as you did. He raised his hands in defense, 

“Okay it is not that bad, come on.” You giggled and shook your head, giving in, admitting it was good silently. He nodded his victory and nudged your elbow with his own. You ate in silence for a couple minutes. Taking in each other's company. Every now and then his hand would trace down your back, or through your hair, the small touches an ever present comfort. His apartment littered with your things. Your books on the coffee table in the living room. Your toothbrush in a cup on his bathroom sink. 

He brushed your hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear, so he could see your face. 

“You coming to the game tomorrow?” 

You pause before nodding slowly. A small smile grew across his fox like features, 

“So..You gonna sit on the smoke hounds side?” 

“You know…I have made prior seating arrangements.” 

He nodded slowly. You were going to sit on the Velaris side. Of course you were. That’s your school and your friends played for the team. Of course you were. He didn’t know why he hoped that you would sit and support him. Didn’t know why he thought you’d choose him over your friends. Maybe because you were sitting in his kitchen tonight instead of going out with Mor and Cassian. Maybe it was because you had been sleeping in his bed for the last couple weeks, seemingly unable to sleep comfortably without him. 

You studied his face. Watched as the disappointment hit him and he quickly covered it with a slight nod and a raise of his eyebrows, looking back at his dinner. You take a deep breath, 

“But…I’ll be rooting for you” You lean to kiss him, “And I’ll be here to celebrate your win afterwards.” 

He grinned at the idea that you thought he would win. That he’d beat your friends. But then he thought about your statement. I’ll be here to celebrate your win afterwards. Here. In his apartment. His brows furrowed, 

“Why don’t we ever go out?” 

“What like a date?” 

He nodded as if it was obvious. You smile and a crease in your brows start to furrow. 

“Eris you don’t date anyone.” 

“I date.” His tone was defensive and he straightened his shoulders to better look at you. 

“Eris. You allow girls to accompany you to parties. You don’t date.” 

He thought about the two of you. In the last couple weeks. What are we doing then? He wondered to himself. What was this if not dating? Why did you think he made himself so available to you? Why did you think he managed to find you throughout the day without even asking, caring enough to know your favorite spots and your schedule. Why did you think that he spoke to you so gently and craved your touch so constantly. Why did you think that he wanted you to sleep in his bed and nothing else, if not because he liked you. He sucked in a breath. Steeling his nerves. 

“Well, if I win…You owe me a date. A real one. You have to let me take you to the bar with the team.” He took your hand in his as he looked at you, “To celebrate.” 

A slow smile creeped across your face. He wanted you to go out with him. With his friends. You nod. A silent acceptance. Swallowing the guilt in your throat as you did so. The guilt that you had to show up tomorrow in a jersey that wasn’t his. Sit on a side that wasn’t his. But you had to support your friends. There had to be a way to do both.  

★ ★ ★ 

You slide into the arena with no notice. Pulling your jacket tight around you. Your eyes searching for a familiar face. None were in sight. Mor wasn’t here yet. You thought about going into the stands and taking your seat, but instead opted to hurry down the hall towards the locker rooms. The smoke hounds were leaving their locker room as you passed. A couple of the Vanserra brothers eyed you, one of them shooting a high pitched whistle your way and yelling, 

“Your boyfriends in there.” 

You roll your eyes and keep walking, quickly, and duck past the door. Letting it slam closed behind you. Eris was sitting on a bench. Not yet dressed, a towel slung across his hips. 

“Shouldn’t you be with the team for warm ups?” He raised his head at the sound of your voice, standing up to take a couple strides towards you. His arms came up to cage you against a locker and an annoyingly smug smile graced his face. 

“I was waiting to see if you might come to wish me luck.” His hand came down to slowly pull off your jacket and his eyes fell to the name across your shirt. SHADOWSINGER. His brows furrowed and he stared silently at it. 

“It’s not…I wear it the first game of every season…like tradition or something.” You tried to explain. Thinking he might understand the athlete rituals or whatever they were. The good luck charms. He pursed his lips and chose not to say anything. Instead his fingers toyed with the bottom of the jersey and he slowly pulled it off of you, before capturing your lips with his. You let your fingers slide up his arms, across his bare shoulders, and into the hair at the nape of his neck, as he lifted your legs to wrap around his waist. 

★ ★ ★ 

Mor studies the way you shift slightly in your seat, like you just can’t quite get comfortable. Amren sits next to you, not paying attention to the game at all, eyes glued to whatever complicated book in a foreign language she had started. Mor watches as you run your fingers through your hair, as if paranoid that it looks a mess. It doesn’t. Her eyes narrow as she watches the way you track Eris Vanserra move across the ice. 

“So are we ever going to talk about it?” 

“Talk about what Mor?” 

“You and Eris Vanserra.” 

You sigh, eyes not leaving the game playing out in front of you, “What do you want to say?” 

“Are you sure that it’s a good idea?” 

“Yeah I think I am.” 

She continues staring at you until you finally slump your shoulders and turn to her. You look her up and down, take in her crossed arms and her doubt laced expression. 

“Mor he’s…he’s sweet to me.” 

“Eris Vanserra doesn’t date people though. He fucks around and doesn’t care about the consequences.” 

“This is different. He wants-” 

She raised a hand to cut you off, “What does he want? What exactly is it that he told you he wants?” 

“Morrigan just leave it. She trusts him and there’s nothing we can do.” Amren mumbled from beside you, drawing your attention. 

You scowl at her tone, bored and slightly disbelieving her own words, and turn away from her. Your eyes falling to where he stands on the ice. Those russet eyes meeting yours with a wink before he takes off down the rink. You turn back to her with a small smile, 

“He wants me. Like really wants me and makes that clear. Not everyone does that.” You give her a pointed look as you say it. A look that told her to drop it. A look that said don’t bring up anyone else. I know who you want to compare him to, don’t. She holds your stare and relents. Uncrossing her arms and nodding. Maybe you were right. He did seem to follow you around like a puppy, as if no one else could see the way he trailed a couple feet behind you at parties, or the way he left minutes after you did. She offers you a small smile, laced with a little concern, but warm nonetheless.

You both whip your heads back towards the ice at the sound of a crash. A collision. Shouts echoed through the arena, a mix of booing, heckling, and cheering on the brawl now taking place on the ice. Your eyes scan the fight, trying desperately to see who it is, but you already know. Before you can even see the names on the backs of the jerseys you already know exactly who’s locked horns. 

★ ★ ★ 

Azriel saw him out of the corner of his eye, before the impact came. Knew it was going to happen, but didn’t have time to brace himself for it. Eris Vanserra blocked his pass to Cassian by slamming his entire body weight into him. Azriel hit the ground with a thud and a rattle of hockey sticks. His helmet damn near cracking ice with the sheer force of the fall. Eris standing above him a smirk playing on his lips, the auburn hair pressed to his forehead with sweat, his shoulders rising in a half hearted shrug as he started to skate away. 

Azriel scrambled to his feet, whipping his helmet off and shouting, “WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?” 

Eris turned towards him now, pausing his retreat to purse his lips as if he was thinking and shrugging once more, “I don’t have a problem man. Just doing my job.” 

Azriel wanted to punch the smirk off his face. He squared his shoulders, trying to regulate his breathing, trying to stop himself from launching at the opposing team’s player. He didn’t miss the way Eris’ eyes flitted towards the stands. Azriel looked over his shoulder, to where you and Mor were sitting, the conversation you were having seemed a little heated. Your back turned just enough to see his name splayed across your shirt. His eyebrows raised in understanding and he let out a low laugh, just loud enough for Eris to hear, 

“Oh…You're mad that your girls got my name across her back.” 

Eris’ jaw set. His eyes steeled. A flash of anger, before that swaggering indifference came back and he pulled off his helmet, “You know I was mad about it. But uh..I’m not too upset anymore.

Azriel skated a little towards him as he whispered, “And why is that?” He was baiting him. Azriel knew that. He knew that he shouldn’t ask, knew that the answer to it would only fuel his anger. 

“Well, when I fucked her in that jersey, minutes before the game started…your name was the last thing she was thinking about.” 

The grin on Eris’ face was that last thing Azriel saw before he snapped. Launching himself towards Vanserra, his fist hitting the side of the man's face, both of them falling to the ground. He could have sworn he heard Eris laugh as his fist hit home again. Drawing blood. Both men tustling on the ground, fists flying, the crowd roaring. Eris topped him easily, almost too easily, like Azriel didn’t want to win. But he didn’t care as long as he got to punch the raven haired man underneath him until he was bruised and bloody. 

Cassian rushed towards his friend. Cursing under his breath as he threw himself into the brawl, pulling Azriel from under Eris and restraining him. Rhys at his side, holding Azriel’s other arm. The three players looked at Eris, still grinning, blood dripping from his hairline, and his mouth. He shakes his sweat drenched hair, tongue wagging as he watched Azriel get pulled away by his friends. 

Both of them were taken out of the game. Benched for the remainder. 

★ ★ ★ 

You raced down the hallway towards the locker rooms as soon as the game was over. Not sure entirely who you wanted to check on first. Mor was close at your heels. Amren had excused herself to drive to the bar stating that she needed a drink before she could deal with any drama. 

When you rounded the corner you were met with Eris and Azriel, already at each other's throats. Cassian standing a couple feet away, waiting for it to get bad enough to intervene. Azriel snarling something that you couldn’t quite make out and Eris meeting it with some lazy insult and a smug smirk. You took in his appearance, his blood stained hair and his busted lip, concern shot like lightning through your bloodstream. You shot your words at the eldest Vanserra first, 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He turned towards you, as did Azriel. 

“With me? He hit me first?” 

“And then you pummeled him into the fucking ground and got yourself hurt in the fucking process!” 

Azriel had moved slightly to stand behind you. Eris took in the sight. You fuming with frustration and Azriel towering behind you like some sort of guard dog. He scoffed and spat a mouthful of blood into the ground, 

“Typical.” He shook his head before turning away. He started to walk towards the locker room, before pausing and looking over his shoulder, “Can you really not see what he’s doing? What giving you that fucking shirt was supposed to do? You think he didn’t do that on purpose? To spread some seed of doubt? To make you choose, knowing damn well you’d choose your friend. Are you that blind?” 

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. Eris nodded shortly before letting out a humorless, breathy laugh, and pushing through the locker room door with one final comment, “I can’t do this. I’m done.” 

“What does that mean?” You called after him. But the door closed behind him and he didn’t bother responding. You stared at the closed door as if he might come back out, as if he might change his mind. Hoping that he would. Hoping he didn’t mean it. A minute went by….and nothing. 

You rounded on Azriel now,

“Is that true?” You crossed your arms over your chest, “Did you do that on purpose?” 

He shrugged, not meeting your eyes, “I don’t know what youre talking about.” 

Your eyes widened and you sucked your teeth in annoyance, “You don't?” 

Every single time you liked someone. Every single time someone liked you. Something went wrong. Your friends managed to convince you they weren’t good enough, or scare them away if that didn’t work. Every single conversation about what you deserved, the way their eyes would flit to Azriel. 

He stood silent in front of you. His expression stony and unyielding, so you continued,

“Why did you want me to wear this then?” You fisted the shirt wrapped around you. Brandishing it towards him to the best of your ability. He frowned and looked you up and down. 

You looked good. Angry, hair falling in front of your face. Stance defensive like you were ready for a fight yourself. Your eyes glittering as tears seemed to prick them incessantly. You looked good. It was all he could think as your question rang through his ears. He tried to think of a response. Something that would sound good, something that would release him of guilt, but he couldn’t. 

“You look good.”

His answer was short, and blunt, and lacking the tells of any lie. You laughed now. Tears threatening to spill. You shook your head quickly. Sniffling, trying to staunch the tears. 

“Well…you did what you do best. You ruined another fucking thing for me. Are you proud?” 

No response. 

“Are you happy now?” 

You couldn’t hold it in anymore. Hot, angry tears rolled down your cheeks. You held your expression still. Letting them fall silently. Refusing to sob. Refusing to give him the satisfaction. Refusing to let him step towards you to wrap you in a hug and release himself of any responsibility with the excuse of comfort. 

He took an uneasy step towards you, reaching out for you. Cassian cleared his throat and Azriel stopped in his tracks. Recognizing the sound as a warning. He sighed and let his arm fall back to his side. 

“I’m sorry” It was all he could think to say. He didn’t feel sorry. He knew he should but he couldn't muster up the feeling. He knew exactly what he was doing. Knew that the jersey would make a problem, knew that Eris would pick a fight. Knew that your concern would fester into an anger and cause you to lash out, it always did. 

You looked at him, incredulous, mouth agape, “You’re sorry?” 

Your tone made him straighten, bristle even. “He wasn’t right for you. If this was all it took to shake him.” 

“And who is right for me?” You were seething. Your words dripping with venom, stained with tears, “You?” 

You?

It hit Azriel hard. Cassian took a step towards the pair of you before Mor’s hand fell to his arm, halting his movement. Slightly shaking her head as if saying they need to have it out. 

“Well you didn’t seem to think so.” Azriel’s voice was cool and quiet. Like the first fall of snow before the storm. 

“What exactly do you mean by that?” 

You knew exactly what he meant. That he was referencing that night two years ago. The way you had left before the sun rose. The way you had never spoken about it again. The way you had let it simmer all these years.

And then the storm hit. Icy and raging. His voice dark like he’d never even known that the sun could shine. 

“You left…You want to talk about ruining things? Then tell me why.” 

You stared at each other. A silent battle of will. Mor and Cassian standing tense from their position a few feet away. Waiting for you to strike back. Waiting for some ending statement. Some final hurt laced come back. But nothing came, and the teams started to stream out of the locker rooms. Breaking the rigid silence. 

You turned away from your friends. I can't, I'm done. You weren’t going to let that be the end. You pushed your way through the Autumn Court team exiting the locker room. 

Azriel watched you go. His heart pounding. Bringing up that night two years ago was a bad idea. He shouldn’t have done it. Shouldn't have pushed it. It did more harm than good. He felt Cassian’s hand on his shoulder, pulling him away from the hallway. His silence speaking volumes. When Cassian couldn’t find anything to say, Azriel knew he really fucked it. Not even Mor would look at him as she walked away, probably going to join Amren. 

taglist :

@tiredsleepyhead @rosewood-cafe @kristijenner19 @becstersworld @girlwhoreadseverywhere @iambored24601

@the-sylver-dragon @scarsandallaz @fairydustblossom 

@theflowerswillbloom 

@theflowerswillbloom @melsunshine @mad-katsuki @lilylilyyyyy @blueeeeeshark

[bonecarversbestie]

What side of TikTok I think the acotar characters would be on:

Feyre: painting/art, cat videos, furniture flipping/remodelling/diy

Rhys: he just watches the videos Feyre shows him before bed and cleantok

Nesta: booktok, witchtok (obviously) and those cucumber recipes, hot farrier videos

Cassian: “inspirational” content from gymbros and lifestyle coaches who wake up at 5 am to meditate and read self help books before hitting the gym and then eating boiled chicken and rice with steamed broccoli and go to bed at 8:30pm

Elain: cottage core, gardening, asmr candy scooping, baking

Lucien: he watches those videos of middle aged dudes who build cabins from scratch in the woods

Eris: he’s very into critiquing ppl doing TikTok dances, gay TikTok

Tamlin: personal attention role play asmr and Feyre edits.

Azriel: mostly watches drama/gossip videos and calls it “gathering intel”. Also random videos of raves and dj sets, thirst traps

Gwyn: also booktok, pimple popping, synchronised swimming

Emerie: also booktok, cooking, videos of booktok gym girlies doing the Nesta Challenge on the StairMaster

Mor: lesbian drama, horse videos, perfume tok

Amren: doesn’t know what TikTok is. Doesn’t have a phone.

[surielstea]

Life Debts

Eris Week day 3: Healing

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eris comes to Reader for a sleeping tonic, but she has run out, so they find other ways to find enough exhaustion for sleep.

Warnings: Smut | 18+ | Minors DNI | Creampie | teasing | p in v | penetration | he’s so hot pls I need him so badly

A. Note: this wasn’t originally going to be smut but I love to spoil you guys soo 🎀🎀

4k words.

My heart pounded against my ribs at the sound of warriors preparing for battle. Mentally, I wasn't ready to watch all the soldiers lose their life, I didn't think I'd ever be, the male whom I could not save, no matter how much I tried.

I was in the midst of creating a basic salve used for deeper gashes that didn't require stitches, the ointment taking effect long enough to fight off any infection as well as numb the pain.

I was grinding different plants with magical properties into the mortar when a familiar red-headed general came into my tent, clutching his side.

I give the lordling a very disappointed look. "Don't start," He warned, holding up his other hand before I could begin complaining.

"Those stitches took me forever and you've already broken them? It hasn’t even been a full day.” I begin to complain anyway.

He walked with such a casual grace, even with a splitting wound in his side, he did not falter. He sat on my workbench silently. I sighed. "What happened?"

"Training with the others, we leave at dawn and some of my soldiers are paranoid. I was only trying to help them take the edge off." He argued and I shook my head, gathering my medical bag and plopping it down onto the desk beside him.

"You're too careless." I reprimand, beginning to unbutton his simple tunic that would usually have armor over it, slowly revealing more and more of his chest.

I steel my features. I've been cutting clothes off wounded soldiers my whole life, it was nothing to marvel at— but the blush on my cheeks said otherwise.

"Careless? Or did I just want an excuse to come and see my favorite healer in all the lands?" He suggests and I flick my eyes up at him, sending him a glare.

"You don't need an excuse to see me," I mumble softly, finishing with his tunic and pulling it off his arms. He was fully capable of doing it himself, and I probably should've let him, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't like the feel of his warm skin brushing my fingertips.

"No, but I did need an excuse for you to take my clothes off," He says in a snarky tone and I swallow thickly, rummaging through the medical pack for something to clean his wound with.

I hated him. Not because he was cruel to me, or because of who his father is, but because he made me feel so helpless. I've been patching men up with worse wounds than this for centuries, and yet he had me fumbling with a pack of gauze nervously like some novice.

Anxiety was a healer's worst fear because a single slip up or jerk of hand could cost a man his life. And yet he made me so damned tense every time he was too close.

I somehow managed to conjure a clean cloth covered in antiseptic that I could clean his deep wound with.

He'd be fine, but it'd be uncomfortable for a while. He hisses as the cloth comes to his wound and eases to the side.

I ignore him as I pull the cloth away and grab the sterilized needle and silk thread. My hand is perfectly steady as I begin restitching the wound. "Stop squirming," I grumble.

"Are you trying to make it hurt?" He gritted through clenched teeth.

"You're the one who went and opened your wound after I so graciously healed you." I snarl.

"Well it wasn't as if I asked to—" He was cut off by a particularly deep prick. "Gods, do you hate me?" He seethed and I smiled slightly. Good, it was easier if he hated me. "I do," I hum softly, almost weakly, tuning out all his hisses and groans as I focus on his torso, the suture coming together and helping meld his flesh back together.

I owed my life to Eris, he had saved me from his father's tents and the men he kept around. I had just healed one of the High Lord's commanders when he tried to repay me with what he thought I wanted, typical male pride leading him to believe that doing my job and caring for his wounds was coming onto him. Eris had stopped it and took me to where his battalion stayed, they were a lot kinder, for war mongrels that is. I hadn't expected it meant that I was now his personal healer, but here we were.

"I don't understand you," He mumbled out of the blue and I crease my brows, but don't look away from what I was doing. "You say you hate me, and yet you heal me with delicate hands." He mumbles, perplexed at my opposing sides.

I couldn't offer an explanation, because I too was often confused by my actions. I tried to say it was because I owed him but, I don't, not anymore at least. Then I tried to argue that it was immoral to let a man bleed, but even that didn't feel right. There was a foreign feeling in the pit of my stomach that only ever appeared when he was around, it was something like longing or reverence but it felt deeper than that, it felt like a connection, and seeing him hurt sent my blood boiling that my body willed no other choice but to heal him.

I shrug. "It's my job," I settle on saying. "You pay me, so I have to help you. But no one likes their boss," I say with a huff, not fully believing my own words as I tie off the silk thread and finish with his wound.

"No, no because you're worried about me." He shakes his head and I risk a glance at his amber eyes. "Of course, I'm worried about you," I swallow thickly, unwrapping a pad of gauze and wrapping it around his torso as an extra layer of protection, just in case.

"And if you die at dawn, if I find you on that battlefield I'll revive you," I finish tying off the gauze and look at him with a stubborn expression. "I'll find a way to bring you back, just so I can kill you myself. Understand?" I raise a brow at him and he smirks, standing from the workbench— which makes me crane my neck back.

"How romantic of you," His sultry smile doesn't ease as he tugs his shirt back on. "Perhaps I will die just so I can see the lengths you'll go to bring me back," He purrs and I frown at even taunting me about it, the idea made me so ill that I thought I might hurl.

I grip his shirt in my fist, silently begging. "Don't," I whisper. "Please, don't die." My voice nearly quivers but I will it to remain steady.

He gives me a sloppy smirk and he swoops down, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek and before I can even get the chance to process it he's pulling away.

"Have a little faith in your general, would you?" He arched a brow and the confidence in his voice makes me think he genuinely split his stitches on purpose, just so he could tell me not to worry.

"I'm sure I'll see you in here later," He says and I swallow thickly. I didn't want to, I never wanted him in these healing tents again because he was hurt. I wanted him to be rid of me and alive, rather than in pain and with me.

"Be safe." That is all I can reply with before he pulls back the flap of my tent and exits the space that now feels all too small without him in it.

The knock on my door makes me startle up from bed. I hadn't been sleeping anyway, the aftereffects of war had taken their toll on my mind, if I fell asleep I'd be reliving the bloodshed, seeing the faces of the men who I couldn't save, hearing the screams and pleads for mercy below the battle cries.

I swallowed down my nausea and slipped out of bed, padding on the cold marble towards the door. I swing it open, revealing a familiar redhead, shirtless.

"Don't tell me you split your stitches again?" I groan, looking at his abdomen where his wound was, bandages still intact and recently changed. I smile softly, at least he was taking care of it. My eyes flick back up to his.

"No, no I can't sleep," He muttered. "Do you have a tonic or something?" He scratched the side of his neck and I shifted on my feet, looking back to my room where all of my vials of sleeping tonic were emptied and discarded along my bedside table.

"I'm out, but I can make some real quick," I say, I was planning on doing it in the morning but he seemed that he might collapse without another night's rest. "Come in," I pull the door open wider.

He steps into my small suite, closing the door behind him.

I tiredly stumbled over to the window sill where plants and roots were lined in jars. "You can't sleep either?" The Lord asks, looking around my rooms curiously as if he's never stepped foot in the healers' quarters before.

"There's no point," I say while collecting the herbs and oils needed to make the tonic before dumping them all down onto my work table haphazardly. "It just results in night terrors," I confess, too tired to put a wall up.

His eyes flick back to me, and I can feel them raking up my figure. I hadn't realized I was in a short nightgown until I felt his gaze on my bare legs and arms, the fabric hanging high at my thighs. I ignore the feeling slinking up my spine and begin crushing dried leaves under my palm, then grinding them in a mortar.

He stalked closer, standing behind me now and peering over my shoulder. I could feel the heat rolling off of his shirtless body, but he didn't make contact.

"Have you tried any other methods, of trying to sleep?" He asks, his voice low with exhaustion. I dare a glance back at him, and immediately regret it. His amber eyes seemed to look right through me, to my soul.

I was suddenly very aware of the fact that we were alone in my chambers, both of us wearing far too little, and standing far too close. "Like what?"

His low laugh caught me by surprise, a deep and velvety sound that filled the room and lingered for a moment longer than it should have. He moved forward, leaning his hands against the work table and trapping me between his arms. He towered over me, so much so that I was forced to crane my neck up to keep his gaze. His scent filled me to my very core, cinnamon and clove and crackling campfires. "Well, a lonely bed certainly isn't helpful when trying to get some rest," He suggests and I avert my gaze and turn back around.

His breath was against my neck as I continued to work, quicker than before, my movements almost panicked.

He seemed to notice the shift in pace or perhaps scented my mix of arousal and tenseness. "Are you nervous, Fawn?" He asked and I swallowed down the lump in my throat. "I'm just— just tired," I shake my head, attempting to convince myself more than him. It wasn't a lie, but it surely wasn't the reason my hands shook.

His deep chuckle rang again and suddenly the room was freezing and he was the only warmth, my fingers ached to reach back and touch him. He leans closer, his bare chest pressing against my shoulder blades. I knew he heard my breath subtly increasing, my pulse pounding. "Is that why your heart is beating so fast?" He purred, the sound just beside my ear.

I didn't reply, focused on bottling the thick liquid in the small vial.

Before he can move any closer I whirl around to face him, plugging the vial with a cork and shoving it into his chest. "Finished." I smile gently.

His eyes don't leave mine as he takes the small bottle from me, his hand brushing mine. "Thank you," He said softly.

"You're welcome." I nodded, but didn't move, not that I could get far, I was still caged by his proximity.

Eris knew deep down he should pull away, and give you space during these trying times, but he's never been good at doing the right things, so instead he advanced and his hands moved to my hips.

"If this tonic doesn't work, there's surely another way we could find sleep, yes?" He arches a brow and I shift under his stare, the warmth of his fingertips seemingly burning through the silk of my nightgown.

"Surely," I whisper softly, looking up at him with only one intention being expressed in my eyes.

His eyes darkened at my reply, and one of his hands lowered, past my hip down to my thigh, to the hem of my nightgown. "And would you, my healer, be open to that second option?" He tilts his head, cocking it in a way that was more animal than man.

"In the name of science, or for our own selfish purposes?" I ask, attempting to ignore the way he was toying with the hem of my flimsy nightgown, and the heady scent of my need for him spreading throughout the room.

He smirked and leaned closer, breath mingling as his lips ghosted over your jaw as he said, "Can't it be both?" Into the shell of my ear. A shiver ran down my spine at the intense need that rocked through me. His hand on my waist moved, to my jaw, my chin in his hand as he angled his head up towards me.

"Or would you prefer only for our selfish, pleasurable reasons?" He suggests and my stomach knots. I willed myself to push him away, to tell him that he was a lord and I was little more than a servant. But I couldn't. He smiled at my lack of reply. "Go on Fawn, tell me," He prompts with a foxlike smirk that sent my insides fluttering with butterflies. "What do you want?"

He waited for my words to come, it'd be so easy to pin me to this work table and begin worshipping me, but he reeled in his most animalistic instincts and waited patiently for me to form my thoughts into words.

"You," I finally manage to get out. "I want you to touch me," I say, shame tinting my cheeks pink.

He smirks. "Where do you want me to touch you?" He tilts his head mockingly and my stomach coils. "Here?" He asks, his hand dipping beneath my slip and gripping my thigh. "Or," His thumb inches closer to my core. "Here?" He suggests, brushing over the seam of my panties.

"There," I plead, a gasp shuddering through me. His smile grows into something feral as he feels the way I was pressing my thighs together, wanting so desperately to have his touch.

"Yeah?" He purrs, adjusting so that his two longest fingers pressed into my clothed folds, just enough pressure to tease. It was an effort not to grind down onto the touch.

"You've ruined these panties, my girl, and I've barely touched you," He whispers, his lips ghosting mine. I let out a soft sigh when he rubs my covered pussy. I ached to get the barrier of my soaked underwear off, but he was enjoying this, seeing me restrain from writhing down on his hand.

"Please," I whimper softly. "Please, take them off," I say with a raw tenderness in my voice that sent the male into a spiral of lust and desire.

"You're sure? Once we start I doubt I'll be able to stop," He warns and my nerves set alight at that.

"I'm sure," I nod hurriedly.

The confirmation was all he needed to hear before his lips attached to mine, prying my mouth open and pushing his tongue in to taste me thoroughly. The hand that had been on my chin moved to the back of my head, pulling me in deeper as he claimed my mouth.

It was marvelous, all the tension that had been between us these past few weeks was breaking, finally snapping in two the moment his lips met mine.

I shivered as he pulled at my panties, the resounding rip of fabric echoing throughout the room as the cloth fell from my hips. He drank in every soft sound I made, devouring it and swallowing the noise down greedily.

"My girl," he whispers into my mouth and I let out a sultry moan as his fingers finally delved between my dripping folds.

"Eris," I sighed as his thumb pressed onto my clit. My hands came to his shoulders, digging my nails into the bare skin as he pushed my nightgown up my thighs, bunching it at my hips.

His middle finger traced lazy circles around my neglected entrance and I shivered. "No, no Eris," I panted out and his hand immediately retracted. I grabbed his wrist, not letting him get far.

"What's wrong?" He asks with furrowed brows and I shake my head.

"I want your cock," I beg softly and I swore for a moment his eyes went golden. "I don't want to wait, I need you inside of me," I say, my pleas falling from my lips shamelessly.

"Turn around then," He ordered and my heart rate fluttered.

I do as he says, hinging myself over the work table as he thrashes off his pants and everything else beneath them until we are both bare and needy for each other. He pushed up my dress higher, exposing my backside and I swore a growl rumbled from him.

He gripped my hips tightly, and when his hardened length pressed into my folds I let out a quivering moan, my slick dripping onto him as a natural lubricant. I roll my hips down onto his pulsing cock, my hips digging into the edge of the desk.

"Gods you're dripping," He said, his voice half a groan. "All for me," He smiles and I nod hastily, clenching around nothing as I impatiently wait for his penetration.

After a few more drags of his cock he aligns with my aching core, and without another word, slowly pushes into me.

I mewl loudly as the thick head of his cock stretches me wide, the rest of him filling me to the brim.

"You're so, damned tight," He grunted out as I took every inch of him into me with greedy pleasure. My back bows as he finally sheathed fully inside of me, his hips digging into the plushness of my ass.

"You— you can move," I nod after a moment of adjusting, struggling to form the words due to how he was forming my walls around him, molding me to fit him.

"Tap the desk twice if it's too much, yeah?" He says and I nod in understanding.

He then begins to slowly pull out, then thrust back in, stuffing himself back inside of me.

A soft moan escapes me with every roll of his hips, his speed steadily increasing. He grew faster and faster, rougher until the table was creaking breath the weight and my thighs were pressing into the sharp edges of it. But I barely felt the pain, too caught up in the pleasure of his thick cock buried inside of me.

He finally set on a brutal pace, his length dragging through my walls and toying with that sensitive spot that left me a drooling, whining mess. My body bounced against the cold table painfully, but it was all pleasure when it came to him. "Eris," I gasped and he threw his head back, his fingers digging into the skin of my waist, so possessive I wouldn't be surprised if I found marks come the morning.

"Fuck, say my name again Fawn," He groans and I do, with every thrust, it was his name coming from my lips. "Louder, I want this whole castle knowing who's making you feel this good," He drawls.

I screamed his name, my feet slowly lifting me from the ground as he lost control and began to push me up the table with his thrusts. My toes barely brushed the floor when he pressed my hips down onto the desk, preventing me from writhing any further.

I arched my back and he leaned over me, his sweat-slicked chest pressing to my shoulders. The new angle made him press into a spot deep inside of me that made my vision blur. I clamped down onto his pulsing length and he smiled against my neck, his teeth grazing over my pulse point. "That's it, squeeze my cock just like that," He instructs and I shakily gasp as I keep a leash on my building release.

"I'm close," I warn and he nips at my skin with his sharp canines, not enough to draw blood but enough to inflict pain.

"I know baby, me too," He confesses softly, fucking me wildly with reckless abandon.

"Come inside," I pleaded and his control snapped.

"You sure?" His voice bordered on a growl.

"It's okay 'm on a contraceptive," I murmur. "Just, fill me Eris." I plead and any sliver of restraint he had left disappeared at those final three words.

"Come for me, come on my cock baby," He grunts out through a clenched jaw, and as if by his command, my release crashed through me. My vision hazed as I reached my peak, my very bones singing with the feeling of ecstasy.

His climax quickly followed mine due to the way I convulsed and twitched around him. His cock pulsed violently as his warm come unloads into my womb, still thrusting and pushing it deeper into me, seeping into every crevice ensuring every last drop was nestled inside me.

Eris buried his face into the crook of my neck, his breathing hitching as my quiet moans filled the room. I slowly came down from my high and relaxed onto the work table, my fingers shaky as I planted them down onto the wood. He pressed a soft kiss to the bite mark he had most likely left, the gentle touch rivaling his earlier roughness.

"You did so well," He praised, kissing up to my jaw. My heart swelled at the intimate movement, the kissing somehow seeming more damning than what took place only moments ago.

Ever so slowly he pulls out from my overstimulated entrance. I press my thighs together at the absence of him and he guides me away from the desk, into his arms as he swoops me up bridal style. My eyes droop with exhaustion as I burrow into his warm chest.

"No sleeping yet, I'm going to get you cleaned up first," He ordered and I let out a low whine in protest and he chuckled, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to my forehead, then one to the tip of my nose, then finally my lips. Weakly I kissed back, my hand coming up to kiss cheek. He bit my lower lip and I smiled at the sensation.

He pulled back and I looked up at him adoringly. "You keep staring at me like that and we're definitely not sleeping tonight," He said and I smirked but averted my gaze and leaned onto his shoulder, allowing him to carry me into my bathing chambers where he drew me a hot bath and cleaned me up.

We both slept in each other's arms last night, a deep slumber encasing us, and for the first time in weeks, I didn't have any nightmares, not when Eris's arms kept me warm throughout the night, reminding me I was safe now.

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[ysmtttty]

Azris AU with Azriel as Eris’ bodyguard.

Just Azriel as Eris’ bodyguard.

[strykozart]

Vanserra Ink 🍂

For @azrisweek Day 3: Contact

[utterlyotterlyx]

Hiii <3 Could you do number 4 from the prompt list with Eris? It's my first time asking for a prompt or anything so i hope this isn't rude. 😅

Aw my loveeeee it isn't rude! Request your little heart out <3

I've already done 4 but I'll do it again for you with a different spin on it.

Can't Keep My Hands To Myself

Modern!Eris x Reader

Summary - It's no secret that Eris has always wanted you, and now he has the perfect excuse to get up close and personal.

Warnings - slight pining, some fluff, swearing, hand fetish

The sun bounced off of the hood of Cassian's car, and if you looked closer you could have sworn you could see wisps of steam rising from the matte black finish.

Folding your arms over your chest, you huffed, already knowing what was coming as soon as you'd point out a certain problem.

It had been Elain's idea to go to the coast that day, mainly so that you could all go to the theme park that ran along the beach, all being yourself, Elain and Lucien, Nesta and Cassian, and Eris. The latter of which was leaning against the hood of Cassian's vehicle with a sly grin written on his lips, sunglasses low on his nose, and hands bundled into his pockets.

Eris Vanserra was the bane of your existence, the cocky son of some noble lord in England who had moved to your state for college and had set an unfortunate eye on you. The heir could have anyone he wanted, but he was too busy chasing you to notice.

Eris had crashed one too many of your dates, and when you had made it clear that he needed to stop being an alphahole, he would slyly quip that none of the men you allowed into your life deserved you. He would always show his face at Elain and Lucien's apartment when you were there, which made you certain that one of them, probably Lucien, was sending him updates whenever you would show up. Eris stuck to your side when the entire circle decided to go out, whether that be bowling or dinner, or even clubbing, Eris was always reluctant to leave your side.

Possessive bastard.

You had lost count of how many times exactly you had denied his advances. It wasn't that you weren't attracted to him, you'd be foolish not to be, but you didn't really fancy ensuing a relationship with a future lord, you quite liked your life the way it was.

You majored in architecture, you had always appreciated the beauty of buildings and landscapes, you had travelled Europe and spent weeks in Paris where you sketched and redesigned buildings until your heart was full and bursting with inspiration. There was nothing you couldn't create.

Life as a lady didn't appeal to you, but life as an architect travelling the world and creating masterpieces very much did.

So, you made it your mission to deter the heir in whatever way you could, from cold shoulders to harsh quips, but it only seemed to spur him on more.

Eris stood before you, red hair perfectly styled into pushed back waves, looking far too good in his black jeans and open collared black shirt, a thin chain hung around his neck which matched the bracelet on his wrist, rings littered his fingers and you found your gaze drifting to his hands, hands you had thought about often when you were alone. You imagined them running through your hair and pulling at it, you imagined them around your throat, you imagined his fingers drifting along your thighs and gripping the skin there.

It was so sinful how much you thought of Eris' hands.

The door opened behind you and you rolled your eyes at the Archeron sisters who walked ahead of both Cassian and Lucien, who both looked exhausted from their bickering already.

Unfurling your arms from your chest, you pulled down the edge of your tennis skirt and tucked in a loose section of the deep green polo you adorned, "About time," you told them, "I'm baking out here."

"I know a place that could cool you down," Eris drawled from behind you, and you turned your head slightly to see him at your shoulder, looking down on you with his usual longingly seductive eye, "You, me, the Swiss alps on skis."

"Sounds positively awful," you smiled sickly sweet at him before moving your attention elsewhere, "I also hate to state the obvious but there are only five seats in Cass' car, and there's six of us," you motioned between the circle you had all formed and shrugged.

"What if you-"

You held your hand up in front of Eris' face, shushing him into silence, "If you're really about to suggest that I sit on your lap, I will kill you."

Cassian threw his head back and laughed, a howling one that filled you with pride as he walked to the driver side of his car, "Hate to break it to you Princess, but you don't have a choice."

"Why me?! Surely it makes more sense for Elain and Lucien to cuddle up?"

Elain ticked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, flinging the passenger door open, "It's my birthday so no, plus Lucien injured his knee at baseball practice so he needs to be able to stretch it out. Sorry, Y/N," Elain wiggled her eyebrows at you and dipped into the car, no doubt securing her spot in the middle seat.

Scowling, you turned to Eris who had never looked happier, fluttering your eyes in annoyance, you pointed at him, "Don't get any ideas, Vanserra."

Eris threw his hands up in mock surrender but the smirk didn't leave his lips as he spoke, "Wouldn't dream of it, y/l/n."

It took you a few moments to become settled in his lap, and you cursed yourself for allowing yourself to be friends with bright and shiny Elain, if you hadn't then you wouldn't be sat on some heirs lap, nestled on his thighs like some kind of trophy.

As soon as you were comfortable, you propped your feet on Elain's lap which she was happy to hold since you drew the short straw, and you leaned back onto the doorframe, half on the body of the interior and half on Eris.

His scent was earthy, wafts of pine and freshly blown out matches, you knew he smelled good, but you didn't realise how much.

Eris draped one of his arms over your legs and the other around your waist, and you couldn't exactly bark at him to fuck off when they were the only two places that his hands could go. His fingers delicately danged off of your thighs, his fingertips lightly brushing against your skin with every bump in the road, the coolness of his bracelet clashing against the warmth of your skin.

If only his fingers could go a little higher, and just grab the flesh of your thigh...

No, y/n.

Elain had convinced the car to play a game, a game that you and Eris had quickly denied, you were both quite happy with the silence. That is until you felt him frown and lean over slightly to peer at something, his fingers drifted along the hem of your skirt and he lifted it slightly to take a peek.

Your gaze found him, his russet eyes darkened with intrigue, "I didn't know you had a tattoo," he hummed, allowing his eyes to trace along the swirls of black ink that created an arrangement of delicately drawn roses and geometric shapes that encased your entire hip.

Cassian's car hit a bump and you jolted on Eris' lap, his arms instinctively wrapped around you to keep you in place as your head hit the roof of the car, "Sorry, y/n. These roads are awful," Cassian apologised, one hand on the wheel and the other gripping Nesta's jeaned thigh, rubbing soft circles into the fabric whilst she idly read her book in the front passenger seat.

If that were you, your soul would no doubt be going feral.

Then you felt it, you felt his had travel from your waist to your unbound hair, he ran his fingertips along your scalp and rested his palm on the top of your head, "Are you okay?"

It took you a moment to reply, trying to control the shivers that spread in your soul like wildfire at his touch in the place you had dreamt of, "Yeah, 'm good," your tone was relaxed as he worked his fingertips into the crown of your head, kissing away any pain from the jolting force that had pushed against it.

"Do you like that?" Eris purred, and luckily no one was paying attention to either of you, Nesta was reading, Cassian was driving, and Elain and Lucien were looking out of the window of the travelling car talking about whatever animals they saw in the clouds.

"It might feel nice," you admitted bashfully, knowing you couldn't lie to the sly fox whose eyes always found you no matter how far apart you were in a room.

Eris let out a low hum, tilting his head to the side as his fingers slid from your scalp and rested on the back of your neck, "You're a touch starved little thing, aren't you?"

"No," it came out a little harder than what you had intended it to, but he wasn't wrong, especially when he was the reason that you were so touch starved and basking in his affection.

Eris chuckled, seeing straight through you as always, as his hand ghosted down your spine whilst his other found your thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze, smirking as you wiggled on his lap, "Careful sweetheart, you have no idea how close I am to losing it," his voice was a rough whisper in your ear, he knew exactly what effect he had on you.

"I can't help it."

"I know, you have no idea the effect you have on me," his finger grazed down the earring that dangled against the curve of your jaw.

"Oh?"

Eris hummed, "One date, y/n. It's all I ask."

"Eris..."

His digits slipped between your thighs and he traced circles into the skin he found there, "Just one. Let me show you the life we can live together. Please?"

You weren't sure if it was his deep tone or his hands on your body that made your mind foggy, but he had convinced your head and heart to agree. Moving your head to meet his eye, you narrowed your own and pursed your lips, "Fine. One date. Make it worth my time, Vanserra."

Eris' whisky amber eyes glistened in the sunlight, "I think you forget how well I know you sweetheart. You're not a coffee date girl, or a movie date girl, you're not a hiker either. You're a dreamer, I see you all of the time looking at the stars, I see the heavens in your art, I see the sky in your eyes. I think I know the perfect way to make sure you never entertain anyone other than me."

The confidence he radiated made your thighs clench together, an act that didn't go unnoticed by him as his eyes darkened again with desire, he licked his lips, throwing his head back as you squirmed on his thighs again and did his best to suppress the moan bubbling in his throat.

"One chance, Vanserra. Make the most of it."

Eris straightened his posture and winked at you, letting his hands roam freely over your back and thighs, "One chance is all I need."

Authors Note

Just a short little drabble - I did a 13 hour shift today and your girl is TIRED.

[jules-writes-stories]

The Night Court Lounge | Tribeca, NYC

I forgot to post my WIP...Thursday? | Azriel x Eris AU |

“Perhaps I might have resisted a great temptation, but the little ones would have pulled me down” ―The House of Mirth

There was nothing like spotting one’s mother at a BDSM club. 

The ink was still wet on his parents’ divorce papers, but there she was for all to see, sprawled across Helion’s lap. After all, the Vanserras could always be counted on to feed the tabloids and gossip columns. 

Eris planned to finish his whiskey and make a discrete exit. But then, his heart leapt into his throat and his dick hardened at first sight. 

He’d been expecting Thesan in his usual get up. Eris occasionally came to The Night Court to support his ex. The man could still turn him on like no one else. They’d never been good at long-term relationships, but they could be each other’s confidantes, a soft place to fuck and forget for a spell. 

Eris had hoped to get that from his ex tonight, and was taken aback when something, someone, completely different entered the main stage. 

The man looked younger and Thesan’s lithe body and smooth brown skin was replaced by a lighter, golden tone, covered in scrolling Arabic across a sleek muscled chest. In place of white feathers were black leather bat wings. 

Eris found the whole thing to be absurd and had teased Thesan about it incessantly. But this man, his broad tattooed shoulders, the planes of his abs below the leather harness, those wings did something to him. He needed to go to fucking sleep or get laid.

Black lined eyes like topaz gazed out at the crowd. Eris wanted to smell those black curls, to test their silk between his fingers. He was being absurd. 

The beautiful man got to his knees in the most submissive prone position in the cage, and Eris watched him lean, like an overgrown house cat, into the auctioneer’s hand as she stroked those curls through iron bars. And fuck if it wasn’t the hottest thing he’d ever seen. This man was dangerous, even caged, and Eris wanted that creature purring between his legs. 

Then Helion made a spectacle of himself, announcing his intentions, and that sealed the deal. Eris would win. He hadn’t made the Wall Street Journal’s “30 Money Makers under 30” lists three years in a row for nothing. He was an apex predator in every boardroom, could dominate every corner of the market. But what made him dangerous was his discretion.

The Wall Street wolves of Beron’s generation were past their prime. They were showy hunters who howled at every win, too certain of their supremacy and too concerned with pack politics. Thanks to a twenty four hour news cycle and social media, the current global market was volatile, and one must be ready to strike silently and with sudden force. For Eris Vanserra was no wolf. He was a snake. 

He watched the kneeling figure, whose eyes traveled the room. Eris needed them on him. Look at me. See me. And almost as if the beautiful, dark creature read his thoughts, his head turned and hazel locked with his own. Fuck. Eris watched those gorgeous eyes travel along his face, lingering on his mouth. He smirked. Then, lower, down to his shoulders, to his chest, and lingered, once more, on his fingers. Eris moved them, ever so slowly, along the wet rim of his cocktail glass. 

As those glittering eyes followed them, Eris swore he saw the man’s pupils blow out further. This beautiful stranger wanted him. And Eris had to possess this caged creature, needed to steal him away from Helion, from the pretentious Lord Winters, from Donna Suriel, the most sadistic bitch on this side of the Hudson. But mostly, Eris just wanted to watch that gorgeous face unfold with pleasure. Wanted that perfect body prone beneath him, before him, begging for release. 

He was coiled in position and ready. And then Eris clocked it: a shadow of discomfort passed across the man’s face. He shifted and this time, it was not with arousal. His legs were cramping and he was tired. He gave three taps to his leg. He saw it for what it was. The sub had used his safe signal. Feyre, the auctioneer, almost imperceptibly, picked up the pace. She’d seen it too. 

Those hazel eyes locked with his once more, as if to say, Don’t you want me? Eris kept his face impassive. He would reveal nothing. It was how he got this far, how he'd survived twenty-seven years as Beron’s son, and had made his name as the Viper of Wall Street. 

“Forty thousand,” Helion called out in his bombastic voice. 

Feyre called out quickly, “Forty thousand. Going once, twice and—” 

He struck. “Fifty thousand.” Eris was sure to keep his voice level, his timbre smooth. It did no good to sound desperate or overwrought. 

Hazel eyes locked with his, and it took all his will power not to stand up and take what was his. Because the caged, leashed, beautiful man, there on his knees, literally leaned forward, subtly arching his back so perfectly, as if his body couldn’t help but move closer to the sound of Eris’s voice. The auctioneer must have seen the same thing, because she didn’t give anyone a chance to counter. 

“Sold to Eris Vanserra for fifty thousand dollars.”  

[kopfkino-o]

another cracky actoar au. the setting is a hardware store in the early 2000s. Rhys, Azriel, and Cassian all work there.

Rhys obvi runs the front cash register and calls himself the shift manager (he isn't, Az is) but he actually doesn't know that much about at home projects and mostly just likes to flirt with Feyre who works at the craft store across the street. but the customers love him, and he’s charming as hell, so management lets it slide.

Cassian loves working in the powertools department. he likes them all. power saws, chain saws, drills, sanders, polishers, etc. his favorite is the nailgun though. once he almost got fired for accidently nailing Tarquin's coat to a piece of plywood but it all turned out okay in the end. sort of. most days during his shift, Cas likes to post not so subtle body shots to his MySpace in the hopes of catching Nesta's eye. It literally never works.

Azriel likes to mix different paints together to see what colors they make whenever he's on edge. it's like a damn drug. does the shop owner (Eris) appreciate all the wasted paint? probably not. but what's he going to do? fire him? laughable. Az is the only one who can actually work the cashier and Eris sort of has a thing for him so it’s basically a win win. He skateboards to work because he can’t afford a bus pass and sometimes he smokes cigs in the tile isle because, well, how many customers actually care about luxury vinyl planking

[xxvalkyriesxx]

Flying Changes - Chapter One

A Nessian Equestrian Fic

Masterlist // Previous Part // Next Part

Read on AO3 or below!

Three years later…

Nesta Archeron made a lot of mistakes in her life. In the seventh grade she accidentally told a secret that wasn’t hers to share. When she did her online classes during high school she had forgotten about an entire English project and simply had to take the failing grade. But this current mistake, as she smelled of cheap beer and liquor. This was by far the worst mistake she’s ever made as she stepped out of the Uber facing the Velaris Courthouse.

Bile rose in her throat, the contents of the alcohol gaining an upperhand. She gulped then massaged her face, putting color into her cheeks. It would all be okay. I’ve been fine in the past. I’ll be fine now.

She climbed the marble steps before entering the courthouse, finding the room her case was assigned too. 

“Where is your client, Mr. Vanserra? I won’t ask again.”

“I’m sorry, your honor. She’ll be here any minute.” 

Ah fucking shit. Eris might just pull out all of his hair for this.

Heads swung as Nesta opened the court door, keeping her head low. She wore an old dress that most definitely had a ripped somewhere and her heels seemed to be wobbly. Or was that herself being wobbly?

Eris greeted her quietly before glaring at her. He pulled his head near her’s.

“Your have to be fucking kidding me right now. Are you actually drunk right now, Nesta?”

Nesta made a motion with her head to show somewhat as an answer. Eris sighed heavily before turning to the judge.

“You honor, my client has appeared now. I think we can start now.”

The judge peered down at Nesta. Her silvery eyes and black hair bob made Nesta squirm slightly.

“Listen young lady. If you’re ever late to court again, there'll be a lot more trouble given to you.” The judge said before continuing.

“You pleaded guilty for driving under the influence and as this would be your second offense, your consequences fit your crime.”

Nesta swayed back and forth, the nerves lingering in her body. She dropped her chin a little and looked over her shoulder. Near the back was her baby sister, Feyre. And at her side was her long-term boyfriend, Rhysand Valyrian. Feyre’s face was written in disappointment while Rhysand shot glares at Nesta.

Better watch out, buddy. Your face might get stuck like that.

“Miss Archeron, did you hear me?” The judge called out.

Nesta jolted, coming back to reality. “I’m sorry, Judge.”

Eris groaned, his hand already in his hair.

“It’s your honor, girl.”

“Yes, your honor.”

The judge began flipping through a packet in front of her.

“I will not be repeating myself after this, Miss Archeron.” She paused before continuing. “As you pleaded guilty this will not be entering an official trial. I would sentence you to the Dusk Court Prison if it was solely up to me Miss Archeron.” 

Nesta’s heart began to speed up. Prison was really on the table this time when she spoke with Eris last; the night she made bail.

The judge sighed. “But after a loved one sent in a letter I’m afraid their decision had swayed me. Nesta Archeron, you will not be sentenced to prison.”

What felt like a collection of relieved sighs happened across the room. However Nesta must have imagined it.

“You will serve three hundred and seventy-five hours of community service while on probation. You will meet with your lawyer and parole officer once a week. If things go over well we can look into extending the meetings every two weeks.” 

“Your license will be suspended for 1 year. You will be attending mandatory Alcoholics Anonymous sessions in the area you’ll be staying in.” 

Nesta gripped her wrist, nails digging into her skin.

“Finally, you will be volunteering at the House of Wind Therapeutic Ranch in Windhaven. You will not be allowed to leave the site unless otherwise approved by the staff or mandated such as the sessions.”

Her stomach dropped. Freezing water dumped over her entire body.

A ranch?

“Your honor, is this a horse ranch?” 

The judge looked down at her with a deadpan stare. “Yes, Miss Archeron. This is a ranch that involves horses. Although there may be other animals there too. Is that a problem?”

Nesta shook her head. No, no, no. This couldn’t be right.

“No, your honor. I’m not qualified to work there. I’ll take the–” but before Nesta could continue, Eris squeezed her shoulder roughly. He glared at her, his rusted color eyes glancing at her silvery blues.

“Your honor, my client doesn’t understand how this is a tremendous opportunity given to her. She will take it. Won’t you, Miss Archeron?” Eris squeezed harder, Nesta wincing. Her breath drew heavier, a faint memory of hands on her before.

There was no escaping. This was her consequence.

“...Yes, your honor. I understand.”

“I’m glad that you do. You’ll be needed at the ranch by nightfall tonight. If you cannot arrange a ride, the court will order one for you. If you break any of these rules, Miss Archeron, the consequences will escalate to a higher degree. Do I make myself clear?”

Nesta nodded. “Yes, your honor.”

The gavel’s sound bounced across the rooms. The sentencing was finished. Dread filled her veins while Eris stepped away from her, packing his things. She looked behind her again to see Feyre standing there, arms crossing over her chest. Rhysand had just walked out the door.

Nightfall came as Nesta sat in the passenger seat of Feyre’s truck. Technically it was their father’s old truck, but he passed it down to her shortly after her high school graduation. The fabric seats were torn with threads peeling and mysterious stains that Nesta didn’t need to know more of.

The car ride was filled with so much silence, it was like a third person was in the truck. Nesta kept picking at the skin, creating bloody hangnails. The radio wasn’t on either. Nesta loved music, but Feyre looked like she wanted silence. Her sister’s eyes kept on the road, both hands on the wheel. Driving through the highways then onto backroads, Feyre and Nesta made their way to the town of Windhaven. Approximately an hour outside Velaris.

There was humid mist in the air as rain drizzled from the sky. The windshield wipers rubbed against the glass. Nesta winced every time the wipers made a sound.

Red lights reflected on the puddles on the two lane road. The car came to a stop. And then Feyre sighed.

“Nesta, I love you. You’re my sister. But I can’t keep doing this.”

“I can’t keep reliving this nightmare of my family dying because of alcohol. Mom and dad died because they drank themselves to death.”

Nesta’s hand curled into her palm. Bitter words were hanging off her tongue and she did nothing to stop them.

“You need to get over dad’s death. It was almost three years ago. And secondly you need to get a new car, Fey.”

Fey was the nickname Nesta and Elain had decided for her when their sister was born. It had been stuck like that since. Feyre winced at her old nickname. The light turned green, and Feyre drove again.

Silence came in between them once more, as Feyre made a turn onto a dirt road. Some of the street lamps were on, illuminating pastures and arenas. Nesta’s stomach turned at the once familiar sight.

“That’s not fair, Nesta.” Feyre counted as she pulled up to a house, putting the old truck in park.

“You’re the one literally dating Daddy Warbucks. He could give you the moon if you wanted. Maybe ask for a new car or some shit.”

“You will leave Rhysand out of this. He has nothing to do with this. And Nesta…IF you don’t change your ways, I will make sure you will not meet my child. I will not have that in their life.” 

Nesta sat stunned in the quietness of the truck. Her gaze went from Feyre’s face to her stomach then back to Feyre.

“I love you, Nesta. But after this, no more. I will not let you be a burden to my life anymore. I will not have my child witness that.”

Nesta’s lip trembled slightly before she roughly opened the door and grabbing her stuff from the back seat. She didn’t look as she marched on forward, her suitcases and backpack in hand trailing behind her. As she climbed the porch to the front door, it suddenly swung open.

A man, a tall man, stood in the doorway. His long hair in a half up half down style as he leaned against the frame. The wheels of the truck became distant as Nesta looked up at him.

“So, Nesta Archeron. We finally meet after all this time. Welcome to your new home.” He stood inside, ushering her in.

“Prison is more like it..” 

“I can get orange jumpsuits if you think that would make you feel better, however I don’t think orange is your color.”

Nesta scuffs, the insult nailing her. She glared daggers at him.

The man moved on, walking down the hall before turning around to face her. “I’m Cassian. Your warren, if we want to stay on the prison theme.” 

“And lucky you. You get the fourth floor all to yourself. Enjoy, Nes.” Then he walked off, not bothering to help Nesta.

“My name is Nesta!” She called out after him followed by mumbling a few curses under her breath. Nesta took her things and began to climb the stairs. Step after step Nesta made her way flight after flight when she finally got to the last step of stairs. A closed door stood on top.

Nesta sighed, her breath heavy and jagged from the climb.

“I never hated a place more than this.”

She grabbed her belongings, dragging the heavy suitcase up the final set of stairs. The wheels rolling off the wooden steps. Once at the top, Nesta opened the door. 

She was greeted with a decent sized room especially for an attic. This had to be the attic after all. There was

 twin bed in the corner near the window with an AC box unit installed.

The suitcase and bags were thrown to the ground as Nesta pulled out a piece of gum. Quickly she began to chew as her stomach hit the bed. Squeals of the bedsprings hit her with force. The spearmint flavor kept her mind at bay, letting the urges stay in the dark.

Tag List (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @chairofchaos @blueunoias @velarisdusk @c-e-d-dreamer @jsmelodies @inkedinshadows

[sodapopwrites]

the first sign of fall chapter six: so start over

college au, the batboys and reader are bartenders, also the guys play hockey

pairings - eris vanserra x reader, azriel x reader

summary - things slowly start to mend after eris talks to his brother, and azriel talks to you.

word count - 3k

a/n - sorry this took me so long to write!!! i was super busy, i just moved and had to get all my voter registration stuff in order before tonight! i hope this brings a little distraction from the dreadful anxiety of election day. it certainly worked a little for me. also guys theyre starting to work towards happiness. i think when the series is done i might write blurbs for it. because her and eris make my heart hurt a little. anyways i hope you enjoy!

read the rest of the series here!

 Eris couldn’t get you out of his head. He had tried, by taking that girl to the halloween party instead of you. But now. The idea of forgetting you was almost laughable. Your words echoing through his ears constantly. 

I miss you. 

You missed him. You had Azriel in the palm of your hand and you missed him. He thought of your flushed cheeks and your tousled hair. The bite mark that had been fading from your skin, the way you had brought your hand up to cover it the second he noticed it. The way Azriel had leaned against the porch rail and nodded at him. A silent bow out. Eris wondered what exactly you had said to him to make him give up the chase. What exactly the two of you had discussed. Whether it was a fight or a teary eyed goodbye. He couldn’t make himself not care. About any of it. About how he wished he could have wiped the tear tracks from your face. About how he wished that he could have smoothed every crease of worry from your skin with a kiss. But he couldn’t. Not then. But now? He didn’t know. 

He was walking to campus now. The leaves almost fully fallen from every branch. The harsh sterility of winter starting it’s approach. It felt like he was retracing steps. Steps he had once taken with you. Like his feet were leading him somewhere that he wasn’t fully aware of until he stopped outside the coffee shop you so often frequented. He looked through the slightly fogged windows. Towards the window booth you and Lucien so often liked to share while you studied. You weren’t there. It’s not like he was surprised, he knew you worked thursday evenings anyway. But his brother was. Lucien sat alone at the table. Flipping absent mindedly through the pages of an all too large book, that he was probably reading for brownie points more than anything else. Eris looked at his feet, as if trying to will them to take him somewhere else, before he sighed and pushed open the door of the coffee shop. 

He made his way to where his brother was sitting and wrapped his knuckles on the table. Lucien sighed and looked up. Shooting his elder brother a nonplussed look before letting his book fall closed before him. He leaned back in his chair, looking Eris up and down, and crossing his arms. 

“You look like shit.” 

“You know for someone that used to copy the way that I dress that’s a wild thing to say to me.” 

Lucien scoffed, “I didn’t copy the way you dressed, I was forced to wear hand me downs for a ridiculously long time….which is funny considering that our family could have afforded to buy me new clothes.” 

Eris smiled and shrugged, “Maybe it’s because you were dad’s least favorite.” 

Lucien frowned a little and shrugged, “I’m gonna let you be rude to me only because you’ve clearly let yourself go.” 

Eris let out a deep sigh and leaned back in his chair, almost perfectly mirroring Lucien’s stance. The brothers studied eachother. Neither of them saying anything. Eris chewing his bottom lip, trying to find a good way to phrase what he wanted to say. A good way to bring you up without making it seem like it was the only reason he was talking to Lucien. As if on cue Lucein let out a small laugh, leaned forward, the legs of his chair clicking loudly against the floor, 

“She’s not doing great either.” 

Eris let out another sigh. He didn’t want you to be doing poorly. He wanted you happy and content. Really he did. But there was some comfort in Lucien’s admittance. Some small relief that maybe you were just as unhappy being apart as he was. But the grimace that rippled across his features was evident nonetheless. Lucien continued at the pained look on his brother’s face, 

“Really. I don’t think she’s brushed her hair in a couple days. I’ve never seen her look this disheveled on purpose. She stopped coming to class.” 

Eris looked up at this, “I don’t want that.” 

“I know you don’t.” Lucien paused and rubbed his hand over his eyes, “Maybe you should talk to her.” 

“And say what Lucien?” 

“Well I heard that she uhm…somewhat bared her soul to you.” 

“She was drunk.” 

“I don’t think she was. I think most of the alcohol was vomitted up before she managed to actually talk to you.” 

He was right. Eris thought about the horrifying clarity behind your eyes when you had spoken to him. Your words soft and quiet, like you were almost ashamed to say them at all. Like you were embarrassed to admit that you had any doubts, any fear, at all. 

“I don’t know if we can go back to the way it was.” 

Lucien shrugged, a real, heavy shouldered shrug, and ran a hand through his hair. He opened his book again and said, without looking up from the pages, “So start over.” 

★ ★ ★

You and Azriel worked in silence. Diligently keeping up with the flow of customers, parrying snarky comments from Cassian, and handling the mountain of dirty glasses Mor would dump on the bar’s doorstep every couple minutes. It was good to be busy. You didn’t have to think about anything when it was busy. You could work steadily and make other people happy, without having to think about any of your own shit. You didn’t have to think about how you were falling behind in your classes, or the pained look in Azriel’s eyes everytime they fell on you, or the general hushed tones your friends were speaking to you in. Like you were a dog that had just come back from living on the street. Like you were something to mend slowly and carefully. Something they were scared to kick while it was down. 

“You wanna take your fifteen?” 

It was the first thing Azriel had said to you all shift. The silence and synchonization you two fell into finally benefiting you. You shook your head and tilted your chin in a motion that said why don’t you take yours. There was a lull in the rush. Finally. So he did. Tucking his apron under the counter and nudging Cassian as he walked towards the door. Cassian followed after shooting you an apprehnsive glace, as if worried that you wouldn’t be able to hold down the fort. A completely unfounded concern. But now? You looked like you hadn’t slept since Halloween and it made him nervous. But he followed Azriel out anyways. Not wanting to ask you if you needed help for fear that you’d bite his head off at the insinutaiton. 

Cassian watched Azriel pace up and down the street. His palms pressing into his eyes as he did so. 

“Why don’t you just talk to her?” 

“Why do you only like me when I’m sad?” Azriel looked to his friend while parroting your words. He had been saying them repeatedly to Cassian for the last week. Cassian refusing to really talk about it, this was something he thought Azriel needed to come to terms with on his own. But now. After eight days of this being the only thing Az was able to talk about…he finally cracked, 

“Well…Why do you only like her when she’s sad?” 

Azriel started at him. His arms dropping to hang limp at his sides. He looked dumbfounded at Cassian’s question. Like he never expected that. He should have. But he didn’t. He hung his head and resumed his pacing. 

“I don’t know.” 

Cassian huffed a breath of complaint and crossed his arms. 

“I think…It’s because, as much as you don’t want to admit it, sometimes you like playing the hero so much that it makes you a villain.” 

And with that Cassian turned on his heel and went back inside. He had been doing that alot lately. Dropping bombs and then leaving before Azriel could really respond. It was driving Az crazy. Cassian of all people should not be the one putting him in place. Their dynamic suddenly switched. Nothing in his life at this moment felt the way that it should. 

He slumped down. Sitting on the curb, pulling a cigarette from his coat pocket and trying to enjoy one small peaceful moment before going back to work. But he heard the door creak open, fully expecting Rhys to come reprimand him now, he didn’t turn to look who was approaching him.

You sat next to him. Curling into yourself slightly. Your arms wrapping around your bent legs to shield you from the cold and from the conversation you had steeled yourself into having. He finally looked towards you, a little surprised that you were there in the first place. You spoke first. Like you always did. 

“I’m sorry. For the other night.” 

He started shaking his head before you could even finish talking. “You don’t have to be sorry. You were right. I have the horrible habit of trying to save you from good things.” 

“Well I know I was right. But I didn’t have to say it like that. Like you were the only one to blame.” 

He sat with the words. Rolling the cigarette between his lips as he thought, 

“I want you to be happy.” 

“I know” you whispered like you didn’t really believe it and he pushed forwards, 

“No. I want you to be happy. I want to see it happen and I want to see it stay.” He paused and heaved in a deep and settling breath, “Because we’re friends.” 

“We’re friends?” 

“I think it’s what we’re best at.” He scrunched his nose a little as he said it. Almost teasing. Like maybe it wasn’t too soon to make jokes. Like they could start to rebuild from here. You didn’t say anything in response. But you smiled, strained and tired, but a smile. So he kept talking. For once he needed to keep talking. 

“The reason I never said anything the first time. After you left. Was because I thought you didn’t want me to. I thought I was saving you from something. Believe it or not…I was also scared. That it didn’t mean anything. And at the time…maybe it did. It probably meant everything. But now? It’s been so long and I..” 

He leaned back, resting his palms on the cold damp concrete of the sidewalk, letting the sting of it set his nerves and solidify his ground, “I wasted my chance and now I think you need to take yours. Don’t stay silent again because you’re scared.” 

“We both wasted our chance. It wasn’t just you.” Again that hushed tone. The hurried flow of your words, like if you didn’t get them out as fast as you could, you wouldn’t get them out again. 

“I think it’s for the better.” 

You stared at eachother now. A silent understanding passing between you. A settling warmth. A forgiveness that’s been long awaited. The silent turmoil of the last two years of your friendship finally starting to ease it’s way back to a steady rhythm. 

“You should talk to him. Again.” 

It was your turn to shake your head in defeat. A motion that seemed to be very popular lately. Something to share with just about everyone you knew. 

“I don’t know if he ever wants to hear from me again. If we can ever go back to the way it was.” 

Azriel let out a huff of laughter and stood up, brushing himself off as he did so. He offered you a hand and hauled you to your feet. He grasped both of your shoulders and said very seriously, 

“So don’t. Start over. Do it better. You can save this one.” 

★ ★ ★

You were walking home from work. Trying not to let Azriel’s words go to your head. You can save this one. You weren’t paying attention to where you were going. Your eyes trained on the lights that illuminated the worn brick of the road. The golden illumination from storefronts and restaurants casting a warm glow over the red cobblestone. You zoned out a little as you passed your favorite coffee shop. Inside the employees were putting chairs on tables and sweeping up. The smell of coffee and baked goods still wafting out the half open door. It wasn’t until you ran directly into someone, your book and phone clattering to the pavement, and your bag swinging off your shoulder that you really started to pay attention. You leaned down to pick up your things. Muttering your apologies. A large freckled hand came to rest over yours as you scrambled to pick up your book before the thin glaze of rain on the sidewalk started to seep into the pages. A hand you knew all to well. Accompanied by a smell that overwhelmed your senses. Vanilla and roasting almonds. Firewood and burnt sage. It was like an assault on your senses. The softness of his skin, interrupted only by the small calluses left there from his hockey stick. The fiery brush of his hair over his forehead, his amber eyes burning their way through yours. 

You rose together. Standing straight wouldn’t stop him from towering over you. His smile soft and tugging at the corners of his lips. He looked good. Tired, dark circles under his eyes, hair out of order, his sweater crumpled and wrinkled more than he’d ever let it be normally. But the warmth of him. That was there. His eyes no longer cold and guarded. They were searching and alight with a strange sort of mischief.  

“You should really watch where your going.” He was quiet as he spoke. Teasing in tone. 

You nodded a little shakily, “Yeah. I uh. I probably should.” 

“I’d hate to see a pretty thing like you run into a lamp post or something.”

A pretty thing like you. Something he hadn’t said to you since he first started hitting on you. Something he hadn’t said since he didn’t really know you. You didn’t know how to respond. So you, almost unconsciously, nodded. God I must look so fucking dumb. It was the only thing you could think. You were surprised he had stopped to help you at all. Surprised he was even here. He only ever came to this coffee shop when he was looking for you. 

“Eris.” He said it so casually. Like it was the most natural thing to do. Reaching out to shake your hand. Without thinking you introduced yourself in return, grasping his hand as he shook it. No questions. Like it was the only thing to say. The only thing to do.  A grin started to spread across his face as he said, 

“You know. You should let me take you out some time. Protect you from any incoming road blocks.” 

He was looking for you. You realized it just as you were hit with a small wave of confusion. He was asking you on a date like he didn’t know you at all. He was starting over. Like something in the universe had given him the same inclination that you were given. Starting over. 

“I uh…I’d like that.” 

He nodded and brushed a strand of hair from your forehead, “Good.” He whispered as that small fox like smile stretched it’s way further across his features. His freckles scrunching slightly with the bridge of his nose. He tucked his hands in his pockets as he started to turn in the direction of his house, the dead opposite direction of yours. He took one step before turning back around, 

“We’ll talk?” 

“We’ll talk.” You answered as fast as you could and with a small affirming nod. He mirrored the movement, pursing his lips as he did so. You looked at eachother briefly before you started to walk away. 

He watched as you did. Watched the way your shoulders relaxed a little and you ran your fingers over the hair he had smoother moments before. 

“I miss you too.” 

He called after you. You shot him a small smile over your shoulder, but didn’t say anything back. 

We’ll talk.

taglist:

@tiredsleepyhead @rosewood-cafe @kristijenner19 @becstersworld

@the-sylver-dragon @scarsandallaz @fairydustblossom 

@lupinswolfsbanes 

@theflowerswillbloom @melsunshine @mad-katsuki @lilylilyyyyyy @blueeeeeshark

@tolietpaperwater @redr0sewrites @acourtofbatboydreams @hextech-bros

[bubybubsters]

Shame (Eris x you)

a/n: I kinda like this one

Eris week day 6: AU @erisweekofficial

Your POV

You sighed, placing your pen on your desk as you covered your face with your hands and groaned. Physics was depressing. What crazy alien had possessed you to decide to major in it?

Glancing out the window of your dorm, you frown at the flock of students. Your roommates are out there somewhere. There’s a party tonight at the Vanserra brothers dorm. And you can’t go because of a stupid physics test tomorrow. Checking your phone you find that nobody has texted you. Of course. You didn’t really have many friends anyway. Just a best friend studying architecture

A light tap against your window tears you out of your trance and you furrow your brow at the guy outside your dorm.

Eris Vanserra. Majoring in aerospace engineering and the man of everyone’s dreams. With red hair, piercing amber eyes, and the sharpest cheekbones you’d ever seen, how did he not have a girlfriend?

And what the fuck was he doing knocking on your window?

You cock your head at him and he smiles, motioning for you to come out. You debate refusing but you were in need of a break anyway.

Getting up, you slip on white crocs and round the building. The crowd if partiers has passed and there’s only a few people roaming the grounds of Forest House Academy.

You spot the sought after redhead surrounded by a small crowd of people and roll your eyes.

Why’d you even come out here?

You stretch for a few minutes, letting uour muscles relax after hours of sitting. Glancing at the growing crowd of girls around Eris you start to head back to your dorm.

Just as your hand lands on your doorknob a hand grabs your wrist.

“Hey, wait up.” The smooth voice of Eris reaches your ears and your brows shoot up.

“What do you want?” Crap, that was not the tone you wanted to take for the first time you met him.

Eris smiles, dimples showing. “I just wanted to see if you have a partner for the project in quantum mechanics.”

You freeze. “We have a project?”

He chuckles. “Yeah it’s on some subatomic stuff.”

You groan. Great, more homework to add to your already long list.

“So?” Eris raises a brow.

“Huh?”

“Will you be my partner?” He pauses. “For the project of course.”

You blow out a breath. “Sure…?”

“Great!”

You eye him vaguely wondering why he hasn’t left yet. Surely he’ll leave after you go into your dorm right? But that’d be rude. You inwardly groan, this is why you don’t socialize much.

“So, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Eris grins and the sight makes your heart race. “Meet me outside the library at noon. That’s when you’re free right?”

You nod. “Of course.”

Only after you’ve said your goodbyes and sat back down do you wonder how he knew you were free from 12-3 on tuesdays.

The next day you’re rushing to the library straight after your thermodynamics class. You know your Professor Helion will ask you about it given that you usually stay after class to talk with him but you don’t care.

Eris, Eris, Eris.

The red-haired mans name is a mantra in your head. You catch yourself thinking of his splatter of freckles for the fourth time today and curse the guy silently.

You arrive at the library fifteen minutes early only to find Eris already there, fidgeting with the hem of his jacket.

“Hey.” You call nervously, putting your phone in your back pocket.

“Hey there little flame.” Eris replies, smiling.

Girls walking past “ooh” and “ahh” glancing over their shoulders to get a good view of Eris’s ass.

You unconsciously roll your eyes.

Eris frowns. “What? Not a good nickname?”

You blink. “Oh it’s not that. It’s just…” you wave awkwardly at the girls, “everyone’s obsessed with you.” You pinch yourself, reminding yourself of the need to develop a filter on your words.

Eris laughs, seemingly unbothered. “Does it bother you?”

“No. It’s just the way they obsess over some hot guy instead of something like grades.” You grimace as you remember doing exactly that on your way here.

“You think I’m hot?”

“That’s all you heard?”

“Pretty much.”

You sigh through your nose.

“Let’s just get to work.”

Two hours later the two of you are worn. Leaning back in your chair you close your eyes. You’d split up the work with you writing the essay and Eris making the poster then the both of you coming together to make an extremely detailed 3d model of a subatomic particle.

“Can we please take a break?” Eris practically begs.

“Says the one who insisted we don’t.” You snap.

Eris groans. “I’m sorry! Now please. One break.”

You hum. “Sure.”

Eris exhales in relief. “You want coffee? There’s a cafe not far.”

“Yes please!” The thought of coffee is exhilarating in itself.

Eris eyes your exhausted form. “I can get it. What do you want?”

You tilt your head. “Uhh not sure. Order for me.”

Eris nods, turns and is almost at the door of the library when you call out, “Thank you!”

You smile softly as you close your eyes. Maybe the all popular Eris Vanserra isn’t so bad…

Eris POV

Eris is walking back to the library when a voice hisses at him nearby. He glances around, spotting a flash of dark hair.

Jurian. His ex best friend.

Eris glares. “What?”

Jurian’s bright eyes meet his. “Come here.” He does, following Jurian to a closed off space.

“How’s the bet going? You seducing her?”

Eris grits his teeth. “The bet is going great. In fact one of these lattes is for her.”

“Awww you got her waiting for you.”

Eris shakes his head. “I don’t like this.”

Jurian smirks at him. “That’s too bad because you have to do it otherwise poor Lucien gets….” Jurian makes a slicing motion across his throat

“I know.”

“So you think you can bed her within the week?”

“I know I will.” Eris leaves Jurian with one last glower.

He finishes his walk to the library, now pissed and tense. When he gets to where he’d left you he’s at a loss of what to do.

You’re asleep, cheek pressed into the keys lf your computer, hair falling over your face. You’re beautiful.

Eris stands there, two coffees in hand staring at you for a long time. Maybe it just felt like a long time, it may have been minutes, even seconds before he moved. He sets the coffees down and packs up your stuff, quietly picking up the computer from under you. He slings your bag, then his over one shoulder and your body over the other. Eris picks up the two coffees and heads for your dorm.

When he gets there he desperately knocks, hoping one of your roommates is home. A brunette girl opens the door and takes him in. Brows raising she steps aside and shows him to your room. Setting you down, Eris looks around.

The room looks like yours, beige walls with pictures and memories strung everywhere. LED lights hang in strands in the doorway next to a messy desk with drawings and writings. He glances around before quickly stepping out and closing the door.

Your roommate watches him quietly.

He’s at the door when she speaks.

“Don’t hurt her.”

Eris stiffens, turning to look at the girl.

“Who are you again?”

“Feyre Archeron.”

“You’re Y/n’s best friend.”

“Guilty as charged”

Eris nods, “nice to meet you.”

Feyre nods back, albeit warily.

As Eris closes the door he whispers to her, “I would never hurt her.”

And Eris prays that he can keep that promise as Jurian texts him.

The text is a picture of him carrying you across the school accompanied by a single sentence

Jurian: You seem to really like her.

Eris rolls his eyes. And what if he did? He frowns. Did he? He had never cared what happened to his project parters before this. He’d certainly never carried someone halfway across campus. One could argue it was so Y/n would like him and sleep with him so Lucien would live. But… for once he hadn’t even thought of Lucien. He liked her. But Lucien, his brain screamed. Jurian’s family was full of gang members and assassins which meant if he didn’t sleep with Y/n then tell her she was a bet, Lucien would likely die. And he couldn’t get Lucien out because his brother was a stubborn ass. Eris cursed. What was he going to do?

There was no way be could keep his promise to Feyre and save Lucien.

His phone dinged again.

Jurian: It’d be a shame if Y/n went missing….

dividers by @anitalenia

taggin: @thelov3lybookworm@profound-imagination@randomgurl2326@theduskyprincess@mp-littlebit

[surielstea]

Bloody Besottedness

Eris Week, day six: AU (vampire)

Pairing: Vampire!Eris Vanserra x Human!Reader

Summary: During a blood shortage, reader can’t help but feel inclined to share her precious blood to the male who had only ever been kind to her.

Warnings: Mostly fluff | slight NSFW | Blood | Blood drinking | Descriptions of blood and very tame gore | dry humping (?)

A. Note: Vampre Eris has been living in my head rent free as of late and I thought I might share to get the rest of you addicted 😈

5.3k words.

Eris paced the hall back and forth, antsy in his movements as he continued to pass by me, then pivoted with a sharp turn, passed by me again, then repeated. This went on for what felt like hours as I sat there, doing nothing but trying to think of solutions for our situation.

We had been low on blood supply for the past month, the vampire I was living with foolishly did not tell me and I had been oblivious until he told me last week that we were officially out, and completely ran dry.

The whole town was in a shortage, the human lands off limits and penalized by death if a vampire were to seek them out as prey. But it was winter and the animals were in hiding. It was a wonder how it ever got this bad, but there were greedy males out there, and they took more than what was deserved.

The royals had more than others by fault, so by the time Eris had run out it meant we were truly arid as in, even the last of the deer in the forest had been hunted down and were long gone by now.

Vaughn, one of Eris's kinder brothers, and Cat, Vaughn's lover came in through the large double doors with panicked expressions and a paler-than-usual complexion.

"Oh gods, not you guys too," I stand to greet them but Eris merely continues his pacing, not paying them any mind.

"How long has it been since you ran out?" I say, crossing my arms over my chest anxiously.

"This morning, you?" Catalina questions. I look back to Eris and his unrelenting pace, like if he stopped he wouldn't know what to do with himself.

"Last week," I murmured and Cat audibly gasped, Vaughn was staying eerily quiet. "Why haven't you hunted anything?" She asks urgently, her eyes alight with both concern and rage.

"He didn't want to leave me alone while we're on a shortage like this, and he didn't want me going out either," I explain. Vaughn examines me, truly looking at me with a glaze over his eyes, displaying an emotion I didn't recognize. "Hey, Vaughn are you okay?" I reach out towards him but he grabs my wrist, gripping it hard before I can make contact with him. "Vaughn," I grit out. A low growl sounds in the base of his throat as I attempt to pry him off. "Vaughn," Catalina strikes him in the side and his hold around my wrist loosens, he blinks once, twice, looks at both of us then notices the red marks around my wrist. "Oh gods, I'm so sorry," He immediately lets go, pulling his hand to his chest like he's just committed something wretched.

I'd be lying if I said I hadn't just been terrified of his nails piercing my skin. Who knows what what three hungry vampires might do to a human who started bleeding, even if they were my friends.

"We're going to go find some food, we'll bring you back whatever we can," Cat smiled at me reassuringly even though I knew she was just as hungry as the male beside her. I can only nod silently in reply. "Try and talk to him," She nods towards Eris. "He'll listen to you." Then she grabbed Vaughn by the wrist like he had mine, and pulled him out the door to go shoot down the largest animal they could find, with our luck, it'd be a rabbit.

I turn back to the red-head still pacing the hall like a madman, a starved man rather. "Eris," I begin as he passes by me. He puts his palm up toward me, telling me not to speak— not because he wouldn't listen, but because if he did he knew he'd be persuaded by whatever I have to say.

"I know my weaknesses so just, don't," He warns, then returns to his pacing. Despite our situation, I couldn't help but feel flustered by that.

I sigh and sink back into the chaise, my eyes following him as he goes back and forth across my view. I sit there in the silence of his footsteps. I was in my fourth position on the chaise before I got fed up and stood, walking into the pathway he's retraced hundreds of times now. "Eris," I warn before he can ram into me. He stops one pace away. "I'm going to make dinner, you need to eat," I explain.

"I can't," He sighs. We've tried, it was true. Even the meat he can barely get down without a drink of blood to go with it.

"It's better than nothing," I sigh. "Cat and Vaughn will be back with some for you in a few hours just, try and eat what I make alright?" I take a step closer and he matches it with a step back. "I'm not going to hurt you," I sigh in a reassuring tone and he shakes his head.

"No, I'm afraid I might hurt you," He confesses and my caring demeanor falters.

Oh.

I was so mindless that it hadn't even occurred to me that he'd be capable, he'd been telling me about how dangerous it was to be near a hungry vampire for months, and yet when it came to him that thought immediately voided, because, it was him. "You won't," I steel my features.

"You don't know that," He whispers like he's done it before, hurt me before, fed on me before. "Your smell it's, it's everywhere," He looks around as if he might be able to see it.

"My, smell?" I tilt my head. I knew vampire senses were much stronger than those of humans, but could he truly smell people?

"Gods, it's heavenly darling," He sighs, my scent seeming to be suffocating him.

"Is there any way I can control it?" I offer taking another step forward and this time he matches it again, doesn't let me come near, and doesn't indulge that restless hunger growing inside of him. He shakes his head with a soft whine, backing up against the wall forcefully so he doesn't pounce.

"I'm sorry, Eris," I back away, going towards the kitchen. "They'll be back soon, I'll make food— I know it's not what you want but, it's better than nothing okay?" I mumble. He only nods, afraid of opening his mouth, afraid his teeth will somehow find their way into my neck if he responds. So he kept it sealed shut and only stared longingly from the end of the hall.

I disappear into the kitchen and only a moment later, the sound of his pacing returns.

I hum a soft tune, a lullaby my mother used to sing for me at night, knowing it so well that I could get through every lilt and swing of the melody without so much as a stumble.

The food I had prepared wasn't gourmet by any means, it was a quickly thrown-together plate of chicken, broccoli, and potatoes. Chicken blood is the cheapest at the markets, easy to source, and rancid to taste. But it got the job done so I drained as much of it as I could from the bird, after filtering it I only came up with about a cup, drinkable but not enough.

There were barely any nutrients in chicken's blood, a whole gallon wouldn't be enough to feed a male like Eris.

Human blood, however, a drop could satiate the average child, which meant a cup like this would leave Eris satisfied for at least another week, just until the shortage was over.

I debated it. Wondered if I could spare just a few drops into the cup, give him just enough to keep him from going over the edge, and reward him for all the restraint he's had. But I'm quickly reminded of why he has that restraint, he's not only keeping himself from crossing that boundary but he is also keeping me alive. If a vampire was feeding on a human, then the human's survival rate quickly became slim. The venom of their teeth left us defenseless, meant to be pliable and lithe, turned into this shell of skin, meant for the blood in our veins alone. The effects depend on the human, some pass out, some become incapable of thinking, and some even become aroused. I didn't know which one I was, and I wasn't in the business of finding out.

It wasn't just the venom of their teeth, but that blood soon became the vampire's sole craving until they could no longer satiate it, until the source for it was gone and they had to find a new victim. If Eris had gotten a taste I fear his control would shatter and he'd become like Vaughn, a glossy-eyed predator who wants nothing more than to feed.

But if he didn't know, if I could slip a few drops in, would it be that harmful? All signs were pointing to yes but I was desperate to help him.

I sighed in contemplation, then ultimately decided that to give him even a few drops I'd have to make an incision somewhere in my skin, which any vampire in a mile radius would be capable of smelling, it was luck that Eris had sent the cooks and the guards home last week for the rest of the shortage.

So I didn't give him any, forced myself to watch him suffer for a few more hours until Cat and Vaughn returned.

"Food's ready Eris," I peek my head down the hall. He was sat on the chaise, his head in his hands as he muttered something to himself.

Gods I was worried about him, beyond worried.

I walk closer, still keeping my distance. "Eris," I call again. He doesn't move but his muttering stops which relieves a small part of my unease. I knew I shouldn't have though I couldn't help but step that final stretch between us, crouching down in front of him and placing a hand on his shoulder. "Eris?" I call and his head snaps up with a snarl, baring his very sharp, very deadly teeth at me. I scramble back in both shock and fear, leaning back on my hands with apprehension creasing my brows.

His eyes were glossy, his nose twitching, those signs of craving I should've been recognizing. "Eris," I whisper and he blinks, the sheen over his eyes disappearing with that movement.

"No, no, I'm so, so sorry," He sighs out like he's let himself down more than me, he moves to the floor where I still sat, fear still lingering in my gaze as he comes closer.

"It's fine," I say before he can get too close. "Dinner's on the table, I'll be in my room if you need me," I murmur, standing up and brushing off my dress.

"Darling," Pleads, his tone wobbling, his eyes glassy. Not with desire, with regret. He was the depiction of apology, on his knees with his hands in his lap as his eyes shone with sincerity.

"They'll be back soon, we can talk after, I promise," Once he was no longer a threat, we would talk.

"I'm sorry," He whispers and even from a hallway away I can hear the despair in his voice. My heart crumbles at the sight, but I know better than to give in, so instead I mutter my reply,

"Me too." Then I pivot on my heel and retreat into my bedroom.

I told him to find me if he needed to, I knew he wouldn't seek me out, even though I desired to see him despite his state of starvation. I knew better than anyone it was dangerous, and learned from past vampiric lovers that it was nearly impossible to live in harmony with each other. They always end up asking for a taste, just a drop, until it turns into something more. I never let them bite me, never.

Once I had been on the lap of my boyfriend-at-the-time, and his teeth brushed over my neck, about to sink in. It was too close of a call. He apologized profusely but in the end, he knew I wasn't safe with him any longer, and he let me go.

I haven't been with a vampire since. I hadn't planned on catching feelings for Eris, yet it wasn't something I could control. It was a feral beast that couldn't be caged no matter the strength of the obstacles. It persisted and fought, then came out without a scar or scratch on it. Untamed and wild.

I was curled into a ball in my bed that was all too large for my body, made for elegant, long limbs I didn't hone.

After an hour of lying with my thoughts, I heard the front double doors open to the frigid cold, wind howling and racking against the windows. Catalina and Vaughn must've returned. I didn't get up to greet them. I could hear the muffle of their voices echoing from down the hall and that was enough.

I couldn't pick out any words, just a slow conversation. Catalina did most of the talking. When vampires fed it was loud, it was messy nauseating, and gruesome. I heard none of it. The duo didn't stay for long, they were in and out within fifteen minutes. Which terrified me. Could they not find anything when hunting? That thought hadn't even occurred to me until now.

I scrambled out of bed and marched right into the sitting room where an empty glass sat on the coffee table, only a few drops sat at the bottom, the remnants of what he'd already drank.

Eris sat on the sofa, his head tilted back with his hands over his face. If he knew I was near he didn't show it. "It'll be dawn soon, you should get some rest," I mutter, his hands leave his face and he looks at me lazily. "Did they bring any more?" I look at the empty glass, the remains showing it was only a quarter full.

"No," He replies blandly.

"What if—" I step closer.

"No," He immediately shuts down.

"You don't even know what I was going to say!" I cross my arms with a pout. "I'm not stealing your blood and that is final," He rules.

"It's not stealing if I'm offering," I mumble stubbornly beneath my breath sourly. A small smile pulls at the corners of his mouth.

"That's my girl," He drones, a smirk playing at his lips, with a familiar snarky tone. It felt nice to be back, even if he only got a quarter cup of blood, I didn't want to know which animal it was from. I didn't ask.

"I trust you, Eris," I confess and the word feels foreign on my tongue. Trust. It sent a shiver down my spine, I was taught not to feel that way about anyone, especially not a vampire. Yet here I was, ready to bear my soul to him. "I trust you enough to control yourself," I continue and he opens his mouth to protest but I speak before he can, "I'm begging you, I hate— I hate seeing you like this." We both ignore the stumble of my words, the situation too earnest to hold his usual witty remarks and sly smirks.

"Did you at least drink the chicken blood? Eat any dinner?" I ask when he doesn't reply, only stares at me.

"I ate as much as I could," He reassured. Which told me he had at least a few bites of everything.

"And the blood?" I propped my hands on my elbows like a disappointed mother.

"I drank it," He frowned. "Tasted like the south end of a damned Naga hound," He uttered bitterly and I giggled, a smile spreading over my face because he was back, joking and teasing. "C'mere," He beckons me closer.

My smile fades as I settle over his lap, straddling his hips as he adjusts beneath me, hands on my thighs and I realize it's not to brace me but to put me in control, to push me away if he needs to.

"You're sure about this, sunshine?" He asks.

"It won't hurt, will it?" I whisper and his eyes soften.

"Only a pinch, then the venom will settle in and you'll barely feel a thing," He reassured. I swallow thickly. "I need you to be sure about this," He raises his brows a fraction, stressing his words. I simply nod. "Words, love, use your words," He urges. I swallow down my fear. I'm in control.

"I'm sure, I trust you," I say and his eyes soften, then blaze with desire. Not uncontrolled like Vaughn, but unfiltered need like he's experienced it before he was even starving.

He reaches up to my bare thigh, where the slit of my nightgown was and he pulls my dagger from its holster wrapped around my thigh. "If I don't stop in the first five minutes, use this okay?" He hands me the wooden-bladed dagger. My hand shakes when I take it from him.

"Okay?" He repeats.

"Okay," I nod in a rushed manner.

His hands are warm as he moves my hair to one side of my shoulders, the pane of my neck completely bare, my clavicle, my collarbone, and my cleavage all laid out on display by the immodesty of my slip dress. "You're safe," His breath fanned over my neck and I nodded, believing everything that those two words meant.

He didn't bite, instead, his first touch to my skin was a soft brush of his lips, a kiss. It was sweet and innocent, and the feel of it reminded me of that ex-boyfriend, the one who had come so close to biting me, and now I was offering it to another.

His lips linger over my pulse point before they seal along the skin, his tongue flattening to the area before the prod of his fangs, then the incision. His bite was slow and gentle, I felt my warm blood stream from my neck and as soon as the crimson ichor met his tongue he let out an involuntary groan, his mouth working wonders over my throat.

He had been right, it didn't hurt, it had been delectable as if I was the one feeding off of it.

I thought for a moment that I'd pass out when the venom set in, or my mind would shut off entirely and I'd become a husk, but as his tongue lapped at the red and his teeth dug deeper I found myself letting out soft gasps of pleasure, telling me that I was the third and rarest option, the one of arousal.

I smiled at the realization. I didn't want to pass out, I didn't want to lose thought, I wanted to experience this, feel this, bathe in this.

Gods I hadn't expected it to feel so good or I would've done it sooner, would've given him every drop— oh, gods this venom is powerful. I can barely keep my grip on the dagger.

"Eris," I whine out and he continues to drink, his tongue running over the expanse of my neck greedily. I didn't want him to stop, I never wanted this to end.

The dagger tumbled from my hold, my hand in favor of going into his amber hair, my other hand on his jaw as I threw my head back, giving him even better access. Wanted him deeper, wanted him nestled inside of me, wanted every inch of him. I sighed out his name yet again and he met it with a groan of immense pleasure.

He reached for the wooden blade, forcing it back into my hands because even beyond his hazy mind of arousal, he still put my safety above all else.

I grind down over his hips, feeling the hardness in his pants that developed as soon as he tasted me. Was he aroused too? Did he feel the burn in his heart too?

My hands ached to be on his skin, I unbuttoned his shirt with fast hands, palms flattening against his abdomen once I got the white dress shirt off of him. My fingers slide into every crevice of his chest, the muscles of his arms, and the grooves of his back. But by the Mother, I needed more, needed all of him.

Slowly, so slowly, he lifted from my neck. His teeth left my throat licked clean save for the two slits from his canines. I panted, continuing to wind my hips over him in pure lust.

His lips were stained with my blood, a drop cascading from the corner of his mouth but I didn't care, I crashed my mouth onto him and he returned it with a fierce force.

Everything about him was warm and comforting, his large hands roaming my waist, my hips, my thighs. His lips felt like heaven and the metallic taste of myself on his tongue made me entirely feral. He was an expert with his tongue, exploring my mouth with it like he had to memorize the feel as if he might never get the chance again. I couldn't help but imagine what it'd feel like to have his tongue in other places. I continued to rut my hips over his hardened length, earning that friction I craved just as much as he craved my blood.

My legs quivered as he gripped my bare thigh, past the empty holster and up into my flimsy dress. His fingers slipped beneath the elastic of my panties, holding my bare hip in place, and stopped me from rocking them back and forth. The way he kissed was all-consuming, taking everything from me in just a kiss, it was carnivorous and robbing, he took and took and all I could do was give, all I wanted to do was give. I would've shoved my heart down his throat if he didn't take it.

But then he pulled back and when I chased he gripped my hip tightly in warning, restraining me.

"You're influenced by the venom," He panted and I frowned.

"I want you," I murmured and his grip loosened, but stayed at my hip, a threat.

"The venom is telling you that," He sighs as I slump into his shoulder. "You're intoxicated too, aren't you? That means we both wrongfully consent," I murmur.

"That logic makes no sense— and I'm not intoxicated," He defends. I crease my brows dumbly. He was hard beneath me, I knew that for a fact, and he had just been kissing me like it was all he's ever wanted. So what did he mean?

"I need you," I sigh into the shell of his ear and he shivers at the words.

"I know, I know, my love there are chapter books of things I want to do to you but not tonight, not like this," He refuses and I frown, kissing up the side of his neck, my tongue brushing over the spot that he bit into on my neck, his pulse much slower than mine.

"Let's get you into bed, alright?" He says, his voice is soft.

"I don't want to leave you," I whine, wrapping my arms tighter around him. "Can I sleep in your bed tonight?" I murmur like a child afraid of the dark, asking to crawl in with her parents.

He sighs. "You mean my coffin?" He mutters and I giggle, kissing up his neck with pure adoration, the sensuality of it all voiding and being replaced by pure affection and soft intimacy.

"You're so funny, 'Ris," I murmur.

"Gods, that venom truly did a number on you didn't it?" He taunts and I incoherently nod my head, continuing my kisses that traveled up his neck.

"Alright fine, you can sleep in my bed tonight," He sighs and I all but cheer, clinging to him tighter with a wide smile as he stands up, cradling me from beneath my thighs and striding off to the end of the hall where his bedroom had lied in this sprawling complex of a mansion.

He laid me in the enormous bed first, the curtains cracked just enough to show the sunrise peering through the drapes. He shuts the sunlight out, leaving us in darkness then slipping in beside me, keeping his distance.

I pout, and without control over my better judgment, I scoot closer, throwing my leg over his torso and my arm around his shoulders. "Cuddle me, please," I whine and he chuckles, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling my chest into his. "Can you kiss me?" I test my luck.

"No," He immediately replies, his voice assertive and only making me giggle. 

"You sure?" I croon, my nose brushing against his as he looks down at me with a soft smile before groaning out, "How long is that venom supposed to last? I miss it when you would threaten me," He sighed, but the smile on his face spoke for itself.

"You kissed me earlier, what's so different now?" I persisted.

"Will you go to sleep if I do?" He prompts and I nod, I'd do anything for that kiss.

"Just one, please Eris," I beg and his eyes soften.

"You're going to kill me in the morning," He sighs, then leans down and places a gentle, reluctant kiss on my wanting lips and the taste of him satiates the unrelenting hunger in the pit of my stomach. When he backs away he doesn't let me ask for another and instead pushes my face into the crook of his neck and props his chin atop my head. “Sleep. Now,” He commands and I only sigh in contentment.

The morning came late. I must've slept through half the day. But the male behind me hadn't so much as shifted, even if he'd been up for hours, he stayed, not wanting me to wake up alone.

His arm was around my waist and his breathing was at its normal steady and slow pace, comforting. His chest was warm against my back and his thumb was caressing over the bite mark he had left last night, already a scar.

"Good morning 'Ris," I murmured through a yawn, and his thumb halted against my skin in slight shock.

"I thought you'd never wake up," He mumbles. "That would've been preferred than waking up next to you," I toss.

"There’s my girl," He sighs in relief. "I missed you," He murmured, pressing a kiss over my fresh scar. I turn slightly, hand coming to the back of his neck, looking up into his eyes. The color returned to his face, the glaze over his eyes wasn't one of hunger but rather adoration.

"I missed you too," I mutter, beyond happy to have him back.

"We didn't uh… did we?" I flush bashfully and he rolls his eyes dramatically.

"It hurts that you think you wouldn't already be aware," He grumbles as a smirk tugs at my lips.

"Maybe you didn't make it very memorable?" I hum and he glares at me because we both knew that Eris Vanserra couldn't do anything that wasn't memorable. Especially not sex.

"No, we didn't freak the sheets if that's what you're asking," He moves his hand from your waist and flips onto his back, fingers lacing behind his head, turning away from me.

"You seem disappointed," I observe, flipping on top of him as if he were a second mattress, nestling into his chest.

"We kissed," He muttered, he thought it was best if I knew.

“I remember," I reassured. "And I remember asking for one, and being the gentleman you are you said no, then gave in because I wouldn't shut up," I giggle into the crook of his neck. He peeks one eye open.

"You think I'm a gentleman?" He mumbles. I nod with a tight smile. "That's sweet of you to say sunshine, but unfortunately you've confused me with someone else," He sighs like he's disappointed with the lie that slips from his lips.

"Impossible, I've known you from the moment I met you," I say pulled me up higher, my face hovering above his while my legs sprawled and intertwined with his.

"Yeah? And what’s that?" He arched a brow. I nod, biting into my lower lip.

"A gentleman," I murmur, moving past him and snuggling my head into the crook of his shoulder.

"Is that venom still affecting you?" He asks as I cling to him.

"No," I mumbled. "I just missed you," I explain.

We lay there in silence for a moment, his hand tracing soothing circles on my back as I ran my hand through his fiery red hair.

"What are we going to do when you begin to starve again?" I ask and he sighs, not wanting to think about it.

"We're going to have to go out hunting— I'm afraid the others are going to think you’re prey just as well," He explains. They would. Vampires didn't care who I belonged to, even if it was their lord, I was still fresh blood, and the most craved type at that.

"How many times can you bite me until I turn?" I knew the answer, but I wanted him to know I'd do it again, and that I still felt safe around him.

"On the third bite you'd be turned, which means we can only do this once more," He explains.

"But I don't want to, you're a last resort— you're not even a resort unless you choose to be. Do you understand me?" He stresses.

"Mhm," I nod, clinging to him tighter. "I heard that vampires crave the human they bit until they drain them," I murmur.

"Or they die," He adds.

"So, do you crave me right now?" I ask.

"Your scent is stronger,” He shrugs. but maybe it's because I'm still full it's not affecting me." He adds.

"We should probably go hunting before you start to starve again, how long do you think your fill will last?" I question. "And don't lie to me this time, tell me the truth Eris," I instruct and he huffs.

"Probably by the end of the week, I'll need to feed again," he explains. "So we should go soon, make sure we're prepared if it comes earlier," I plan and he nods.

"Just lay here with me for a moment, don't worry so much about the future right now," He breathes out, tightening his arms around me.

"I can't help it, I'm a mere mortal time is limited," I remind and his smile falters, as if remembering that in the blink of an eye, I'll be old and withered away. He's lived ten times my lifetime, and seen more than I could ever dream of. "You're so old," I grumble and a smile pulls at his lips. "Just stop aging, let me catch up," I mumble.

"I stopped aging hundreds of years ago," He says pointedly and I seal my lips shut because I suppose he was right. "But it's true, I have tattoos older than you princess," He hums and I grin up at him. "Why does that make you smile?" He asks and I shrug.

"I like your tattoos," I say, my hand coming up to his bicep where a dark maroon ink trailed up his arm, tracing my fingertip along the delicate lines. "They're pretty," I mumble and it was his turn to smile.

"Just like me," He says and I roll my eyes, looking at him— he wasn't wrong.

It was no secret that vampires were beautiful beyond belief, but gods this male blew everyone else out of the water.

"You are," I agree because there was no viable way I could argue he wasn't.

His grin widens and I flick my eyes down to that smile, those lips that had been on mine last night, those pointed canines that I allowed to sink into my neck. The same ones I would happily let bite me again.

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[theladyofbloodshed]

Happy Halloween!

‘Nes, picture this. Gates open at dusk. Nobody leaves until dawn. There’s a whole section of rides. A zombie maze. And a haunted house with three floors.’

Nesta wrinkled up her nose and slapped the brochure that Cassian had thrust under her nose away. ‘Why would I want to picture it when you have jammed it so close to my face that it is the only thing I can see?’

‘So, is that a yes?’

Cassian waited for her answer, an excited smile dominating his expression. Nesta hated Halloween. Hated anything to do with it. Hated motion activated skeletons that gave a warble when she walked by, hated the lurid orange colour that plastered every aisle, and absolutely despised the smell of rotting pumpkins. He knew it.

‘Yes, you may go. I will stay here with the lights off so nobody rings my doorbell.’

Cassian let out a snore. ‘You’re no fun.’

Horror movies were fine. Nothing particularly scared her about them. The acting was generally terrible, the effects even worse, and all of them put women through hell while they wore few clothes. It was the ridiculous hype weeks before that she hated. There was absolutely no need for it.  

‘Go and play with Rhys or Azriel,’ she said, reaching around him for her book.

‘They are already coming. I have to buy the tickets and I’m going to look like an idiot if you don’t come along.’

Nesta snorted. ‘I have bad news, Cassian. You look like an idiot regardless of my presence.’

Cassian clutched his chest. ‘Ouch. Somebody hasn’t had their nap today.’

Maybe her words had been a little bit too harsh. For a few weeks now, she had been debating their relationship and the merits of continuing it. They had more bad days than good. Arguments were their common currency. The relationship was becoming stagnant. He made it difficult to visualise a future when he still had the mental age of a teenage boy and lived in Rhysand's basement. But Cassian was also kind and funny, willing to cut the heart from his chest for his family. It wasn’t fair to keep hurting his feelings when her mind swung one way. She knew they were close to breaking point, he did too.

‘Fine. Book the tickets.’

A kiss was pressed to her cheek. ‘You are the best.’

***

Halloween dawned on them. Nesta had begrudgingly agreed to wear a costume for their night time festivities. She’d have sworn that Cassian preferred Halloween over Christmas as he’d barely been able to contain his excitement in the run up to the holiday. Nesta had lost count of the amount of times she’d returned home from work to a prank that had her clenching her jaw shut or threatening to take back the key she had offered to him for her home.

‘It’s called trick or treat, Nes. You can’t just eat candy without the trick side.’

‘I pay for the candy, so I can do what I want,’ she snapped. ‘Save your pranks for April Fool’s Day. It’s named after you.’

Cassian gave a slight grimace then hurried towards the bedroom. It had been a long day at work and now she was expected to stay up all night at a ridiculous spooktacular, as they called it, which meant she’d be grumpy all weekend from a lack of sleep.

When Cassian returned, he was whistling a tune and carrying a red bucket filled with water that he tipped down the sink.

‘Was that meant to fall on my head?’

‘I’m pleading the fifth,’ he replied.

Nesta let out a low laugh. ‘Oh, I could have really decorated the place in the spirit of things if that had happened to me.’

‘If I ever turn up dead one day, you have made so many threats that you will be the prime suspect.’

They got ready at her place. She opted for Morticia Addams because it meant she only needed to purchase a crappy wig and wear a dress she rarely wore, rather than buy a plastic costume that was a fire hazard. His phone was buzzing constantly. She risked a glimpse at the screen and it was plastered with messages from Feyre, Mor, Rhys, and Azriel telling them to hurry up because they needed to go. Cassian was still in the bathroom. She’d heard him grunting and swearing in between his razor buzzing. He’d stayed quiet on his costume, telling her it would be a big secret.

When he finally did emerge, Nesta burst out laughing.

‘What the hell are you supposed to be?’

‘It’s bad, isn’t it?’

His face was bright red and caked in face paint. It was all over his hands and neck too. Cassian had even shaved off most of the scruff on his face, but left a soul patch in its stead.

‘You look like a fucking tomato!’

Trying to hold onto his dignity, Cassian added a pair of plastic red horns to his head and picked up a pitchfork.

‘I’m the devil,’ he said in a tone that sounded as if he’d like the earth to split under his feet so hell could call him home. ‘I saw a tutorial, but it seems I lack the skills with face paint and liquid latex to do it justice.’

Nesta couldn’t muster a reply. He looked hilarious. It was only when she scanned his body that she took in the tight-fitting, red Lycra outfit which wouldn’t be out of place in an eighties fitness video - and the knee high black boots over it.

‘Are you the devil from The Powerpuff Girls or what?’

He let out a long groan as his phone continued to buzz with notifications.

‘Go and wash it off. Please. I am begging you.’

‘I tried! It has stained my skin bright red so I look like I’m having an allergic reaction. It’s better if it stays on.’

‘Really?’ Nesta threw up her hands. ‘We will be late. It’s dark. Nobody will notice how bad it looks.’

They hurried down the road where the rest of their group was waiting for them by Rhys’ car. Azriel, the designated driver because he never needed sleep, honked the horn in greeting. Rhys and Feyre had matched their outfits as Harley Quinn and the Joker. Mor had dressed as some sort of sexy red riding hood in a gingham dress that skimmed her thighs matched with knee high socks and a red hood.  

Feyre let out a horrified shriek of laughter. ‘What the fuck are you, Cass?’

He turned to Nesta, eyes pleading. ‘You said they wouldn’t notice in the dark.’

‘You are glowing red,’ remarked Rhys. ‘Even the man in the moon can see you.’

In a bad mood, Cassian clambered into the back of the car. It lowered beneath his weight. Nesta had to press her lips together to stop her laughter from making the situation worse. She wasn’t able to make eye contact with Feyre or that would set her off.

‘I’ll try and talk to him,’ said Mor as they began to file into the car.

It left Nesta riding shotgun with Azriel. She scanned him for some sort of clue to his costume, but in the end, she needed to ask.

‘An axe murderer,’ he replied, pulling a plastic axe from his coat. ‘They look like everybody else.’

‘Good choice.’

The key turned in the ignition and he grumbled, ‘I hate Halloween.’

***

If one more dumbass jumped out at Nesta in the queue, she would punch them. She didn’t care if it was their job to scare guests. Anybody who got paid to shout boo needed a better job.

‘Is it too late to turn back?’

Azriel drawled out a laugh. ‘I don’t think Cass will ever forgive us if we leave.’

Her overgrown boyfriend was alight with anticipation. He didn’t need to crane his neck to look towards the start of the queue as he was gigantic, but he still lamented that they’re arrived too late. There were so many better costumes he could have gone for. The iron giant. Frankenstein’s monster. Mothman. Not a tomato with an outfit so tight that everybody could see his dick print.

 A bored, middle-aged woman sat at the ticket booth. She scanned their tickets with as much zeal as one of the undead then they were in the grounds of the Spooktacular. What a stupid name.

As if preparing for battle, Cassian drew them into a circle and held the map of park out in the centre. A finger pointed to where they currently were. ‘Everybody is flocking in here. The rides will be busy now, and most of the night, so it doesn’t matter when we go on them. There will be time, before you ask, Morrigan. The haunted house is only accessible via the maze. It’s meant to be shit-your-pants scary, but only for those brave enough to make it through the zombie maze.’

‘Cass, you know it’s not real, right?’

He held up a hand in Rhys’ face, ignoring his question. ‘We need to get to the other side of the park, tackle the maze, do the haunted house while it’s not too busy to get the full experience. There’s a cinema showing old black and white films we can check out, food stands over on this part. I think there’s a costume competition.’

‘You’ll be entering that,’ said Azriel, a smirk on his lips.

‘He’ll scare everybody with that thing,’ said Rhys, pointing to Cassian’s crotch.

Cassian shushed them. ‘Don’t interrupt. I’ll lose my train of thought. I’ve lost it. Fireworks mark the end of the celebrations. If we make it to dawn then we get a survivor’s medal.’

‘You mean we won’t get locked in? I can leave whenever I want?’ Nesta pressed her hands together in prayer.

‘We’re staying until the end.’

‘Yeah, Nesta. Don’t you want a crappy plastic medal at the end?’ Feyre teased.

Nesta was not a night person. She had never been a night person. She could wake up at five in the morning as fresh as a daisy to begin her day – but ask her to stay awake until that time? Not a chance. If she stayed with Cassian, this would be her life every Halloween.

‘Let’s go team,’ he called and led the way towards the monstrously large maze.

She lurked at the back with Azriel. Nesta gave him a soft elbow in the side. ‘Let’s go team.’

‘Don’t,’ he replied, warning in his voice.

‘I feel like we’re in an episode of Scooby-Doo.’

Azriel gave a chuckle. ‘If he says let’s split up gang, I’m going with you. We’ll go and find a beer.’

The maze was ridiculously high. And enormous. Even Cassian was not tall enough to peer over the hedges to find the way. It would take them forever to bumble their way through to the promised haunted house. There likely wasn’t even a haunted house on the other side. Hopefully it was the car park and they could go home.

A smoke machine was working its hardest to pump the hedges with mist. Spooky, she thought with disdain. The way was lit with jack-o-lanterns. Through the hedges, Nesta could make out the low groaning of zombies and the terrified shrieks of patrons as they tried to find their way along the twisting paths.

‘Cass, you should just lift me onto your shoulders,’ called Mor.

Ugh. Yes, I’m sure you’d love to have your bare thighs around his face again, Nesta thought.  

It was a few times, long ago, apparently. They were friends. It hadn’t meant anything. But they still took trips together alone and her name was still in his phone with a few heart emojis that she had apparently put there and they flirted relentlessly still. Everything was just perfect.

A zombie burst out from one of the turns they could take. His arms were outstretched, flaking fake blood on his chin. Rhys shrieked.

‘Fuck,’ he breathed.

‘Sorry man,’ the zombie replied, breaking character with his laughter, then went back down the passage he’d been lurking.

At least five times, they hit a dead end. Cassian was adamant he could find the way through without any help. They had met no end of zombies too. It was freezing cold, fake smoke was irritating her lungs, and they were nowhere closer to the damn haunted house waiting on the other side. This was on its way to being one of the worst nights of her entire life.

Their group was beginning to stretch out. Mor, after shrieking like a banshee for the eighth time, had locked onto Cassian at the front for safety. There was a gap at the front. Azriel was talking to Rhys about work as if this was a normal activity for them to engage in, while Feyre had her hand in Rhys’ as she ate a candied apple. Nesta trailed at the back, forgotten, eating candy.

It could not be more obvious to Nesta that she was not part of this group. It was an uncomfortable truth. She kept throwing it back, but like the tide, it came back to her again and again. Whilst she did not expect to be on the same page as her significant other for everything, fundamentally, Nesta and Cassian were too different for the long term. Each step through the mist felt like it was pulling a veil away rather than hiding it; they were not meant to be. In the pit of her stomach, Nesta knew when they left the spooktacular scarefest, she’d need to have that conversation with him and end it for good.

Screams sounded followed by the thump of shoes.

Nesta threw herself backwards into a hedge as a hoard of screaming teenagers came galloping down the narrow space of a crossroads. Behind them was a swarm of zombies who were thoroughly enjoying their job.

When the dust settled, Nesta froze.

‘Oh no.’

Her group had been swept up with the screaming and running. She had lost them.

After waiting a while in the hope that they might come back for her, it seemed obvious that they hadn’t even realised she was missing. She tried not to be hurt by it, but tears still prickled her eyes.

There was no cell signal in this damn place. There was also no turning back. She was too deep into the maze to retrace her fumbling steps and find the way. She had to follow the sounds of screams to try and catch up to the massive group. Perhaps it was the workers’ way of clearing out the maze before it became too congested. Nesta would find her way through and meet them by the haunted house.

At a fork, Nesta paused. It was only her and pumpkins. Neither way offered any insight to the group’s whereabouts. There were still screams, but they came in every direction, as far as the amusement park. There was a chocolate coin in her bag of candy. The foil featured a skull on one side, crossbones on the other.

‘Heads I go left.’

Nesta flipped the coin.

‘Right it is.’

It was eerie to be alone. Nesta shivered against the cold. It was surely close to midnight by now. She risked a glance upwards – a full moon. Why was that panicking her? None of this was real. A full moon meant nothing. None of this was real.  

A zombie stepped into her path. Her face was painted grey with blood splattered all over it. Before she could even begin groaning, Nesta held up a finger. ‘Don’t even think about it.’

‘Oh, come on.’

In her marching, she encountered two more zombies. One of them, she threatened to punch and was told she’d receive assault charges if she did.

‘You can address the charges to the Addams Family residence.’

This was turning into an actual nightmare. She was cold and tired and wanted to go home. Why didn’t she take up Elain’s offer of a cosy night in watching chick flicks?

Logic would guide her through this. She just needed to remember which way she had originally been facing, figure out which direction she was turning through and she would find her way. It was easy. Easy peasy.

‘You’re going in circles,’ one of the zombies said. ‘I’ve seen you three times now.’

‘You are joking.’

Sure enough, at his feet was a knobbly pumpkin that was particularly grotesque. She had seen it before.

With a noise that could earn her employment with the other zombies, Nesta pressed herself into the hedge. ‘I am going to be in this maze for the rest of my life.’

Something came over her. Perhaps it was the full moon. Perhaps it was being in a relationship with an overgrown child who had abandoned her in the damn maze that she didn’t want to be in to begin with. Nesta started ripping off leaves and throwing them at the ground as if it might solve anything. She even kicked the hedge then immediately regretted it when a scratch raised up on her ankle.

‘What did that hedge ever do to you, Morticia?’

A deep, smooth voice jerked her attention away from battering the hedge.

The man had gone all out on his costume. He wore a fine blue suit with a golden patterned brocade and a billowing white shirt. A few drops of blood stained it crimson. It didn’t look cheap at all. His red hair was drawn back against the nape of his neck. He tilted his head which revealed the sharp points of his incisors. No fake plastic fangs.

‘It trapped me inside,’ she answered. ‘Dracula?’

‘Lestat. Close enough.’  

‘Have you lost your friends too?’

‘No, I come to Halloween events alone,’ he replied, the sarcastic tone impossible to miss.

Nesta’s brow bunched. ‘I wonder if I can make one of these branches into a stake to ram through your chest.’

It made him laugh. It was a rich thing that sent goosebumps skittering along her skin.  

‘Walk together?’

Nesta should have shut down the offer immediately. Wandering around with strange men dressed as vampires at night wouldn’t lead to anything good – but as it was, she was lost in this fucking maze and it was better to have company even if he did end up draining her blood.

They debated each fork, chose each path carefully as if it was a puzzle that they might be able to crack rather than a random route a mad farmer had decided. The man, Eris, shucked off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

At a dead end sat the Grim Reaper. A black hood was pulled down over their face and a scythe was held in one hand.

‘You have come to the end of your journey, weary soul. You must answer the riddle that was foretold.’

Eris scoffed. ‘That’s a terrible rhyme. It barely even rhymes.’

‘Yeah, well, you try saying it for eight hours a night,’ the Grim Reaper retorted. ‘Are you done? Can I carry on?’

The utter shock of being spoken back to was plastered onto Eris’ expression. It clearly did not happen often. Nesta held back her laughter; Eris had been good at getting them through the maze plus he’d let her wear his expensive jacket.

‘I protect. I stand tall. My purpose is to strike fear in all. What am I?’

‘The cops,’ Nesta offered.

Eris buried his laugh with a cough. ‘I think the answer is a scarecrow.’

The Grim Reaper stood. ‘Curses, you have solved my riddle,’ he said, voice unimaginably bored. The gate behind him creaked open. ‘You have found your freedom… for now.’

A pale hand gestured for Nesta to lead the way out of the maze and she had never been so glad to leave a place before.

‘That is a man who hates his job,’ said Eris, lips close to her ear.

The haunted house loomed in front of them. More squeals and shrieks echoed from within. It was not as big as Cassian had made it out to be, but it certainly looked haunted. Spiderwebs hung from the awning so that they dripped all the way to the steps. The wrought-iron fence was rusted and crooked, running the length of the property, save for the squeaking gate. On a hidden speaker, a child’s eerie laughter sounded on a loop along with come play with me.

‘If they have hired child actors for this bit, I won’t hesitate to hit them,’ Nesta said.

‘Stick close, fair maiden, and we will find our way through.’

Nesta pouted. She searched for a worker but there were no signs of any. This was why costumes were an utterly ridiculous idea. ‘I should wait here to see if my friends appear.’

‘Some friends, abandoning you.’

‘Yours did,’ she pointed out.

Eris held up his hands. ‘Mine are brothers. Every year we try and lose at least one of us.’

‘Well, one of mine is a sister and another is a soon to be ex-boyfriend.’

Her breath fogged in the air from the cold. There didn’t seem to be any sign of them coming through the gate. By the time they did emerge, Nesta would have turned into an icicle.  

‘You go. Don’t waste your time with me.’

‘I will never abandon you. Especially not on Halloween when there’s a full moon in the sky.’

Nesta raised her brows. ‘Oh yeah? What might get me?’

Another group had made it out of the maze and were making a racket as they hurried towards the house’s gate. Eris pointed at them. His amber eyes tracked over their costumes. ‘There could be killer clowns or… hot dogs on the loose.’

Indeed, one was dressed in an inflatable hot dog costume.

‘Do you think they’re like werewolves? The full moon turns her into a hot dog?’

‘I’m more likely to do damage than she is,’ Nesta grumbled. ‘I am so hungry and so tired. You know what, I have another idea.’

Nesta pulled open the purple gate that they had come through, much to the Grim Reaper’s shock.

‘Do we have to do the haunted house? Isn’t there another route back to the main part?’

‘There are three routes out of the maze. Two of them lead back to the park. You, lucky devils, found the only path to the Horrifying Haunted Mansion. You must go through it.’

‘I believe that goes against safety regulations,’ said Eris.

‘Minimum wage. Zero hour contract. Talk to my boss.’

 ***

‘Two more rooms to go through.’

That was two rooms too many, Nesta thought. She had lost count of the amount of times she had screamed. Most of the Spooktacular had been hit-acular instead. Not this haunted house. It was not for the faint hearted. She had expected plastic masks hanging from strings or glow in the dark skeletons that swung into her from fraying ropes.

This was horrid.

After the first monster had come sprinting across the room at them under a deluge of strobe lights, Nesta had clung onto Eris like a koala. There was not point in feigning bravery when everything in this house seemed hellbent on giving her a heart attack; the actors hired for this part were deranged.  Nesta had gone from keeping close to Eris, to walking behind him, fingers digging into his billowing shirt, to burying her face practically in his armpit and relying on him to guide her through.

She wished Cassian was here.

Not for comfort, but so he could be traumatised by this fucking place instead.

Eris blew out a breath. ‘There’s blood seeping out from under the door. I’ll carry you.’

Was this guy for real?

If he dropped her, Nesta would kill him though.

Carefully, Nesta was lifted by Eris, so she tucked her face into the crook of his neck.

‘What’s in the room?’

‘Do you really want me to describe it?’

Yes. No. She wasn’t sure.

After peeping open one eye, she wished she hadn’t. People were manacled from the ceiling, heads lolling uncomfortably. Raw meat hung from hooks. As Eris had described, fake blood soaked the floor. She was fairly certain it was fake blood. It better have been fake blood. Jars filled with severed limbs, eyeballs, and organs lined the wall. It looked like something out of Saw.

‘The raw meat is bad enough but if they’ve used animal blood, it’s a health violation. I’ll have them shut down,’ Eris muttered.

Nesta screwed her eyes shut.

‘Whoever made this place was an absolute freak. And not in a good way.’

Eris’ laugh made a rumble deep in his chest. ‘What’s the good way?’

‘The kinky sexy way,’ she said, before she could stop herself.

‘Ah, like handcuffs instead of manacles?’

‘No comment.’

Although Nesta had known the man for only an hour, she already could tell that he’d be grinning at her comment. And something about that had her pressing a smile against his skin in return.

‘What would be your absolute nightmare? In the final room, what do you not want to see?’

‘Oh my god. Is this going to be a strange set up meant only for me? I hope it’s not a million dollars. I’m afraid of becoming a millionaire.’

Was it bad that her first thought went to Cassian down on one knee proposing to her with all of his friends there to witness it? That would be a nightmare. He'd trap her so she couldn't say no. She cared about him. Loved him. But she wasn’t in love with him. Wasn’t sure if she ever had been. Lust had made her get carried away and before she knew it, there was pressure from all sides to make it something more. Never again would she tangle herself with a man that her sisters already knew. It made everything more complex.

She was set down on the creaking floorboards. ‘Do I want to open my eyes?’

‘Probably not,’ he supplied.

They were faced with a narrow corridor. At the end of it was the backdoor. Freedom beckoned.

‘We’ll run for it.’

There were circular holes cut into the wall that Nesta had a sinking feeling meant hands were going to try and grab it.

‘If you grope me,’ she called, ‘I will be contacting my lawyer.’

‘Ready to run?’

‘Hold my hand,’ she begged, clinging onto Eris. If her heart wasn’t hammering so hard, she might have felt pathetic. As it was, her friends had ditched her in a zombie maze and this vampire had swooped in to save her.

With her hand locked firmly into Eris’, they sprinted towards the backdoor. Sure enough, black-gloved hands shot out as they ran, grabbing onto clothing and limbs. When they burst through the door, they tangled in sticky cobwebs that had her shrieking.

‘You survived!’

Another Grim Reaper stood before them using their scythe to point in the direction they were to go.

Nesta threw her arms around Eris, feeling the hard muscle of his body. She was reluctant to ever let him go. He seemed to be of the same attitude, because he’d set off down the dimly lit path with one arm hooking her to him.

A feeling of disappointment settled on her tongue. If Nesta had entered that house with her group, Cassian would have gravitated to Mor and supported her through it. She’d have been at the back still, squealing and panicking unless Azriel took pity on her.

Thank goodness for Eris.

‘I wouldn’t have survived that without you.’

‘Nonsense,’ he said. ‘If we’d have turned the lights on, it would have been crappy fake blood and local thespians getting too into it. The darkness makes everything a bit scarier. You did great.’

‘Eris, I’d have sat on the floor and refused to move. How were you so calm?’

Eris tipped back his head in low, false laughter. ‘Oh, compared to my father, that house was a leisurely jaunt. I am starving. I couldn’t work out if it was your stomach grumbling or a prisoner of the house. What about a late dinner?’

***

‘There has to be something. Something in the past that made you hate Halloween.’

Nesta tugged a slice of pizza from the rest, marvelling at the stringy cheese drooping from it. ‘It wasn’t even Halloween. Goosebumps.’

‘The books? I mean when you’re ten, they’re truly scary,’ Eris teased.

She chewed down a mouthful of pizza. They’d found the cluster of food stalls with tired workers who looked as if they were counting down the hours until dawn so they could go home. A large seating area was in the middle of the stands so they’d set up camp there, Nesta still in Eris’ jacket. There was a cage with a few bats in that Eris commented was a food standard violation to have them so close to people dining.

‘No, the show. There was one episode. It freaked me out.’

‘The sponge under the sink?’

‘Seriously? No.’

‘Oh! Night of the Living Dummy – with Slappy? My brother hated that. We actually bought a Slappy and put it in his bed. He cried for hours.’

‘The one at Horrorland with those green things. Then it turns out they’re on a monster game show. But the start of the episode really did a number on me.’

Eris put his arm across her back and stroked up and down. ‘You poor thing. I hated Are You Afraid of The Dark with that monster in the swimming pool. I made my little brother sleep in my bed. Told my mother he was the one afraid, not me.’

They ate the rest of their shared pizza in a hush that wasn’t unpleasant. They’d both opted for coffee to keep them awake – and keep them warm. His knee was pressed to her thigh. A hand rested on top of his leg and Nesta had the mad urge to hold onto it like she had in the haunted house. Something held her back – a loyalty to Cassian that he had never deserved.

Positioned near the heaviest traffic of the park, Nesta was scanning the crowds for signs of her group. Many people had left. Only a few idiots would remain until the dawn – her group included.

‘You can go,’ Nesta insisted. ‘Won’t your brothers drive off if you’re not with them?’

Eris rummaged into the pocket of the jacket she was wearing – because he’d refused its return – and pulled out a set of car keys. ‘We all drove separately. We don’t like each other enough to car pool.’

That was a wise idea. Nesta wished she’d have taken her own transport so she could have turned around at the gates and gone home. She supposed she’d not have met Eris if she had done that. Some things were worth enduring.

‘This soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend. Is it because he left you in the maze?’

Generally, Nesta was not a person who liked to share her business with other people. It felt a lot like airing dirty laundry. She did not care for gossip – her own or otherwise. But she had few friends. The two she did have thought Cassian was wonderful because Nesta had never been able to be honest about the problems in the relationship and cast him in a bad light.

It felt different to be dressed as Morticia Addams, sharing a pizza with Lestat de Lioncourt. Eris was a stranger who she’d never see again. What did it matter if she spilt her heart to him?

‘That was the final nail in the coffin. I didn’t want to come here, but he doesn’t really take no as an option. If I didn’t come tonight, I wouldn’t hear the end of it. I’m boring. I’m no fun. None of his friend’s girlfriends kick up such a fuss. He also slept with his friend and she’s still around all the time. I can’t voice that it makes me uncomfortable because then I’m being jealous and controlling.’ She took a sip of the too-hot coffee to act as a distraction. ‘We’re not compatible. I keep trying to resurrect a dying relationship – but why? I’m not even happy with him. I’m not myself with him.’ Nesta gave a yowl of frustration. ‘I change myself for him all the time – I hate dressing up.’

Nesta focused on the blurring lights of one of the stalls to distract herself.

Carefully, Eris’ hand landed on the back of her head to slip her wig off. His fingers twined in her scrunchie at the nap of her neck to pull that loose so her hair fell freely then he handed her a napkin to wipe away the crimson lipstick staining her.

‘Thank you.’

Eris gave a tight smile in response. ‘I think you’re wonderful as you are. Kicking hedges, threatening to stake me through the heart, or taking the slices with the most cheese on.’

‘You caught that?’

‘Next time, I get the cheesiest slices. Let me drive you home.’

There could be nothing more foolish than accepting a ride from a stranger, but it was tempting. He’d proved himself to be polite and charming, never putting his hands on her more than he needed to – and sometimes Nesta had wished they did linger on her.

‘I ought to stay. Get my survivor’s medal.’

Eris cocked his head to one side. ‘Why?’

Because Cassian would be annoyed with her if she didn’t stay. They’d talk about it for weeks afterwards, how Nesta was the only one who didn’t follow through with the plan or how she ruined the evening by getting lost in the maze. Everything could be spiralled back to being her fault somehow. She didn’t want the crappy medal. The only good moment of the night had been meeting Eris.

‘I have heated seats.’

‘Sold,’ Nesta said, rising to her feet.

Eris offered her an arm to take, ever the gentleman. As the night grew colder by the moment, his warmth was welcomed. They weaved through goblins and ghouls, witches and werewolves, as they crossed the funfair. Nesta still kept a look out for Cassian or Feyre but couldn’t see them.

‘You don’t want to go on the big wheel? The ghost train?’

‘I have had enough of Halloween. I want to go home, go to bed, and tomorrow I’m staying on the couch eating candy all day.’

Eris made a low groan that was almost erotic. ‘I am envious of your life.’

‘What is your plan?’

‘Try not to get too excited but I am a health and safety executive.’

‘Ooh, safety standards and worker rights. Tell me more.’

He gave her a soft nudge in the ribs. ‘I studied law because I like arguing. It turns out I like ruining fun too. I’m coming back here tomorrow when it’s light to shut down half the park. The maze was too narrow, it breeched safety standards. If there had been an evacuation, it fell short of requirements. And as for the murder house, well, that will be feeling the full wrath of health and safety laws.’

Nesta tipped her head back and made a moan to rival Eris’ one. ‘Oh, I love it when you talk OSHA.’

‘It’s not the most exciting job, I’ll admit. It pays well. There is travel involved. I’m high up the ladder already.’

‘Did you actually come here with brothers?’

‘Nesta,’ he sighed, amber eyes snagging on her. ‘Do you think my hobby is walking around dressed as a vampire picking up abandoned women in mazes?’

‘We all have our hobbies, Eris.’

‘My brothers and I always check one out as civilians. They’re into it. It gives me a chance to see the on-the-ground running before I swoop in and they have time to hide their atrocities’

The car park was far emptier than it had been when they’d pulled up that evening. At her request, they’d gone to check if Rhysand’s car was still there. Her heart sank at the empty space. They had gone. At some point, the group had just left, left without her.

Eris must have read something in her face because he stopped walking and pulled her into a tight embrace. She burrowed against his chest, so fed up of being an afterthought.

‘I know what it will be. It will be my fault because I got lost. Not theirs for running off. I will have ruined their whole evening.’ Her voice came out muffled against his shirt.

His arms encased her. She fit naturally to his body as two pieces of a puzzle. Lips pressed to her forehead. ‘You deserve far better than this. You’re wasted on people like that.’

For a while, they remained cuddling in the car park, neither one quite ready to stop it. It was only when a man dressed as Jack Skellington wolf-whistled at them did they reluctantly peel apart. Eris brushed away her gratitude for the comfort, but he kept his arm around her as they walked.

When they reached his car, it was worth more than she had in her bank account. He held the door open for her, those manners gleaming. ‘My lady.’

‘If you call me that again, I may let you drink my blood.’

He pushed away her hair so his fingers could trail the vein of her neck. It was tantalisingly slow then he drew back and closed the car door, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

Nesta had to stop herself from squealing and kicking her legs as he walked around to the driver’s side. If she met a man like Eris each time she was abandoned in a maze, she’d go to Spooktaculars more often.

On the drive home, her phone finally started to ping with messages as she received signal. They gradually became more frantic then angry as if she was deliberately avoiding them. Rather than message Cassian, who would undoubtedly blow up her phone if he found out she was riding home with a stranger, she messaged Feyre. It was a simple thing.

You left me behind in the maze. No signal. Thanks for waiting. Found my own way home.

‘I should probably say it now before we get to my door. I don’t sleep with men on the first date so don’t try and come into my house.’

Eris gestured to himself as he drove. ‘I need an invitation to enter a home.’

True to his word, at the door, Eris did not try to convince her to let him in. The house was dark which meant Cassian wasn’t up waiting for her.

‘Thank you for looking after me.’

He swept into a bow. ‘It was my honour. Goodnight.’

‘Goodnight,’ she replied.

Coldness slipped over her body – and not from the weather. Eris smiled and gave a wave as he walked down the garden path. He waited by his car for her to unlock the house, to see her safely inside, but Nesta felt was numb. Eris had done what she had asked. He hadn’t pushed his luck or tried for a kiss or more. He’d been a shining example of a gentleman all night. So why was she annoyed he hadn’t tried to get her into bed?

***

The soft vibrations of her phone dragged her out of sleep at eleven.

‘I’ve been so stressed,’ Cassian said as a greeting.

Not worried enough to search the park for her, not worried enough to wait at the gates, not worried enough to come to her house.

‘I had to stay at Mor’s. You had the key. I’m still bright red.’

‘Don’t call me for the rest of the day,’ replied Nesta and she hung up the phone.

It had never felt so good. She wished she still had a flip phone so she could slam the two halves together; it gleaned more satisfaction that way. A couple more times, Cassian tried to call then Mor’s phone number flashed up on her screen – a crappy attempt to get into contact.

Nesta ignored it.

She was tired and in a rotten mood as she knew she would be the morning after a crap Halloween Spooktacular. Although, it hadn’t all been bad.  

After shuffling to the kitchen to make a cup of tea, Nesta spotted the note pushed through the post box that was sat on the door mat. It was a sloping, elegant script that was almost too small for her to read easily.

Trick or treat. Check behind the plant pot.

Reluctantly, Nesta opened the front door a few inches in her pyjamas, half-expecting an egg to be thrown at her. Behind the large, ceramic plant pot on the stoop was a paper bag filled with candy and chocolate. There was an envelope tucked inside. Her name was on the front in the same looping handwriting.

Nesta,

I realised in my excitement to share OSHA guidelines with you that I never asked you what you did for a living. That must be rectified. I understand that you are in the midst of emotional upheaval and I completely understand if you are not ready to date – presuming the soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend has been bestowed his new title.

Please call me. I promise I won’t force you through any mazes or haunted houses. Enjoy your day – here’s more candy to get you through.

Yours eternally,

Eris.

At the bottom of his letter was his number so Nesta needed to restrain herself from calling him then and there with bird nest hair and pyjamas.

No, the Spooktacular had not been all bad.

[oristian]

—   ⁺ FEYRE and RHYSAND   , character planning • m o d e r n a u

FEYRE

Sophomore at Velaris University

Art History Major, Painting Minor

Lives on campus with Mor and Amren

Works part-time at the campus McDonald’s

RHYSAND

Senior at Velaris University

Pre-Law Major, Economics Minor

Lives in an off-campus apartment with Azriel and Cassian

Works part-time at his father’s Law Firm

NESTA

Senior at Velaris University

Pre-Law Major, Creative Writing Minor

Lives in an off-campus apartment with Gwyn and Emerie

Works part-time at the campus radio station

Tutors part-time in the Writing Center

ELAIN

Junior at Velaris University

Landscape Architecture Major

Lives off-campus with her boyfriend, Lucien

Works part-time as a cake decorator at a grocery store

Is a Teaching Assistant for the College of Design

LUCIEN

Junior at Velaris University

International Relations and Affairs Major, Political Science Minor

Lives off-campus with his girlfriend, Elain

Student Body President

CASSIAN

Senior at Velaris University

Kinesiology Major

Lives off-campus in an apartment with Rhys and Azriel

Drummer in a band with Azriel and Eris

Works part-time as a personal trainer at the VU fitness center

AZRIEL

Junior at Velaris University

Criminal Justice Major

Lives off-campus in an apartment with Rhys and Cassian

Lead singer in a band with Cassian and Eris

Works part-time at the campus radio station

ERIS

Senior at Velaris University

Pre-Law Major, Business Administration Minor

Secretly wanted to study veterinary medicine

Lives off-campus, alone

Bassist in a band with Cassian and Azriel

Works part-time at his father’s Law Firm

Works part-time at a pet adoption center

THEO

ORIGINAL CHARACTER, Eris’ boyfriend

Junior at Velaris University

Double Major in Biology and Veterinary Medicine

Lives on-campus with roommates

Works part-time at a pet adoption center

Works part-time as a Research Assistant

GWYN

Junior at Velaris University

Anthropology Major, History Minor

Lives off-campus in an apartment with Nesta and Emerie

Works part-time as a Research Assistant

Works part-time at the campus library

EMERIE

Junior at Velaris University

Culinary Arts Major, Entrepreneurship Minor

Lives off-campus in an apartment with Gwyn and Nesta

Works part-time at a local restaurant, Court of Dreams

MOR

Sophomore at Velaris University

Sports Management Major

Lives on-campus with Feyre and Amren

Works part-time as a football team student manager

AMREN

Sophomore at Velaris University

Undecided, General Studies Major

Lives on-campus with Feyre and Mor

TAMLIN

Senior at Velaris University

Agriculture Major

Lives off-campus with Andras

Works part-time at the campus McDonald’s

JURIAN

Senior at Velaris University

Nursing Major

Lives off-campus with his girlfriend, Vassa

VASSA

Junior at Velaris University

Political Science Major, Public Relations Minor

Lives off-campus with her boyfriend, Jurian

Student Body Vice-President

[ellievickstar]

Just some Modern AU thoughts :^

Azriel would definitely listen to the most dirty music on his headphones in a modern AU. Like he’ll be straight faced and doing paperwork and Rhys would be wondering what he’s listening to, brushing it off as some classical music but Azriel is slowly smiling as he vibes to the nastiest shit on earth.

Eris would 100% be the kind of guy that wears the most obscure outfits if he could. Like his fashion taste makes everyone thinks he’s gay until he gets a girlfriend with the exact same taste as him.

Rhys be rocking t-shirt and jeans every week to outings and still be pulling bitches. But every time he organises events it’s the fanciest shit ever T^T (don’t worry he pays for everyone)

Cassian is the kind of person you see in the gym at 5am in the morning. He is also an over texter. He also sleeps with a night light on.

Lucien is the kind of person to go out to the movies by himself.