#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

[surielstea]

Puppy Love

Eris week day two: Childhood

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x WinterCourt!Reader

Summary: Reader and Eris adventure beyond their courts borders to go hunting in the secluded, evergreen forest.

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff | adolescent Eris is a force to be reckoned with.

2.5k words.

The crisp, cold air fogged in front of my mouth as I let out a relishing breath. Officially winter, the season sacred to my Court. I nearly giggled with delight as my boots crunched in the snow, the sweet sound putting a beaming smile on my face.

I was on my trek towards the Autumn Court border, where I'd meet with Eris. Vanserra, a young lord and the sole heir of the Autumn Throne, though rumor has it that the Lady of Autumn was pregnant with another.

Eris and I met last year when he scared off my prey with his loud steps, I practically growled in his face but he only stared at me wide-eyed with flushed cheeks— and then I realized he had never met a girl who wasn't tripping over themselves in attempt to charm him, a young handsome lord would be any Court Lady's dream. That day he had claimed he didn't know what he was doing, that his father sent him out here with some fancy arrows and told him to bring back dinner. I gave him my harvest that day and he demanded I teach him how to hunt, and we've met every morning since.

"I hate the cold," The young lord grumbled, his reddened nose awfully adorable and destroying his facade of distaste.

"Of course you do, Lordling." I sigh. "Accustomed to a life of warm meals and crackling fireplaces," I drone on as I approach him, my white fur cloak blending in with the blinding snow.

His lip curled. "You're a princess, you're accustomed to that too."

I shrug. "Yes but I, unlike you, don't whine when the weather isn't to my liking," I hum with a snarky smile.

He deadpanned. "If I recall, five months ago you were moaning and groaning about the heat." He retorted and my smile fell.

"Well then," I click my tongue. He looks down at the basket in my hands, his brow raised.

"This is a gift for you, for our one-year friend anniversary." I hum and hold the wicker basket out to him, the blanket over it shifting with movement. He looked at it curiously, as if whatever was inside might bite his hand off.

"Friend zoned? After all my efforts of attempting to enchant you?" He says, taking the basket from me. I give him an incredulous look. He knew it'd never work, that the Prince with fire in his veins and Princess of ice and snow could never be together, forever opposing courts. No matter how badly I wished for that fact to change.

"Just, open it." I push the basket into his hand and he takes it, a sniffling snout peaking out from beneath the blanket. Eris looked at me slightly alarmed but I only gave him an encouraging smile. He sighs and flips back the rest of the blanket, revealing a pup with a gray coat, his tail wagging excitedly at the sight of his new owner.

"Where did you get this?" He looked at me with alarmed confusion and I rolled my eyes.

"My uncle gifted him to me on solstice, but we don't have the right environment to train and take care of him," I took the pup from his basket and cradled him in my arms, he chuffed and attempted to lick my cheek.

"He's a hunting dog, a smoke hound to be exact," I explain and hand him to Eris, who holds the dog like he was an alien.

"I know what he is. Do you understand what you're giving away?" He raises a brow. Smokehounds were the best breed in Prythian, not only that but this was a pure breed, so rare that even one was extremely difficult to come by. I knew the Autumn Court had prized them, and I could think of no one more deserving than the young lord who had snuck his way into my frozen heart this past year.

"Yes, very aware." I smile.

"I can't accept him, any of this," He shakes his head and puts the dog back into the basket, and attempts to hand it back to me.

"But look, he's already so attached to you,"  I argue with adoring eyes as the pup licks at Eris's ringed fingers.

"Let him hunt with us today, and then we'll decide who he goes home with." I place the basket down and watch as the hound spills out of it, trotting through the deep snow. His thick coat kept him warm, and his tongue lolling out was enough to say he was happy to be outside rather than trapped in my castle, to be doing what he was born to.

"Fine," Eris sighed, then grabbed his bow from his back. I did the same with mine. We followed the dog through the forest, allowing him to lead us as he tracked an invisible scent that even our fae senses couldn't pick up. His long ears nearly dragged through the snow as he trudged forward.

"What will you name him?" I ask softly, my voice quiet in fear of scaring off any prey.

"You can name him," Eris grumbled, showing only disinterest in the dog. I'd find it rude if I didn't know him better than that. He was trying to let it not get to him, he had never received such a meaningful gift for no real reason. He didn't like the warm feeling in his chest that he had never quite been able to control.

"Come on," I groan. "At least bounce ideas with me?" I suggest but he ignores me and I stop in my tracks, staring at him and sheathing my arrow back in its quiver.

He halted too after realizing I had stopped and turned to me with a raised brow.

"Why do you do this," I sigh.

"Do what?" He slings his bow over his shoulder.

"Deny any form of admiration I try to give you?" I stride closer, only a pace but enough to send him a message.

He stayed silent, only swallowing thickly as a reply. "It's a hound, Princess. I appreciate it but it's too grand of a gesture—" He begins to argue after a moment but I cut him off.

"This isn't about the dog." I shake my head. "Why do you refuse to let me you let me love you?" My brows crease and he bristles at my wording, but that is what it was, isn't it? That warm feeling he couldn't control that twisted him into knots, it was love, and he was terrified of it.

"Because I don't feel the same." He wills himself to say and a twinge of pain cracks through my heart but I remain strong.

"Liar," I snarl. "What are you so afraid of?" I take another step forward, so close that if I reached out, I could grab his hand in mine.

He shrugs and looks to the side, at the long line of evergreen trees that were more free than him, rooted into the frozen soil but still, alive and thriving. Far more than he'd ever be while chained to a throne. "Eris," I whisper and he shudders at the way I say his name. It was too intimate, it held none of the malice it often did when his father spat it, only heavy with adoration and guilt. "Eris look at me," I say and he steels his features, because my eyes were too much for him to bear, the eyes of the female he loves, and that horrifies him, because he cannot fool or trick me when I stare at him with those all-seeing eyes, cannot attempt to plot or ensnare when I look at him like that.

"I'm afraid of my father finding out," He confesses. "Terrified that if he discovers that something other than power makes me happy, he'd destroy it." His voice was as pure and raw as the fresh snow beneath our feet.

"We're seventeen, we shouldn't have to worry about that—" I begin but it was his turn to cut me off.

"But we're not normal kids, we will never be normal kids." He reached out and cupped my cheeks, and despite the negative temperatures, his palms were warm and soothing against my icy skin. "And I can't risk you."

"I'm a princess of my court, sole heir to the Winter Throne. To hurt me would be an act of war, he cannot touch me." I claim.

"No, but he will find a way. He will cleave us and tear us apart until you hate me." He claims and I frown.

"That will never happen." I shake my head, refusing the idea of ever hating the male that stood in front of me.

"Won't it?" His hands on my face press firmer, stressing his point. "We're heirs of opposing courts, inevitably we will become enemies." He explains.

"But we could be the ones to form an alliance," A fool's dream. The autumn court was too prideful to accept any other court, and the winter court would never ally with fire bringers. "Can't we just be stupid and reckless and young, for once?" I plead. "Even for only a few moments?" I say and reach forward, gripping his tunic in my fist.

"Is that too much to ask for?" I murmur and his eyes soften.

"Far too much," He replies, his warm breath mingling with mine. "But I'm willing to give it to you," He says, his voice steady and warm like crackling embers to a recently put-out fire.

"As a friend-anniversary present?" I taunt him with a teasing smirk and he shakes his head.

"You don't know how to shut up do you?" He drawls and I smile.

"I can think of one way," I suggest, stumbling forward and his breath hitched as I rose onto my toes and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. I pulled back with a soft smile and that was enough to send him reeling. He advanced forward, his fingers singing with heat against my cheeks as his lips, finally, met mine.

It was innocent and gentle, and a little awkward, but gods was it perfect. The kiss alone heated my entire body, all the way down to my fingertips which were still clutching his green tunic. Realizing I was still gripping him I relaxed my hands and allowed them to slip up his chest, around to the nape of his neck so I could pull him closer and encase myself in his warmth while he deepened our kiss.

My stomach clenched when he pulled away, it was quick, only a moment— exactly what I had asked for. I hadn't realized I was now going to crave those moments until the end of me.

He looked at me, his cheeks flushed and I knew it wasn't the cold that tinged them. "You ruined my makeup," I say, reaching up and wiping away the smear of cosmetics on his bottom lip.

"But you look beautiful," He mumbled, too caught up in the action of me so casually touching his lips. I lift my eyes up to his gold-flecked ones and smile wickedly.

"That kiss really did a number on you," I taunt because it was the only way to stop myself from being greedy and kissing him again, and again, and again until I could recall the exact feel of his lips from memory.

He looked to the side, attempting to get rid of his blush, forget about how perfectly he slotted against you.

Then his brows bunch in concern and my spine stiffens with alarm. "What is it?" I ask, looking out towards the empty forest.

"Your dog already got lost." He grumbled and I relaxed, my shoulders slumping.

"He's your dog," I stress. "And he's not lost. He's hunting." I say proudly and Eris casts me an unbelieving glance. I smile at him and press a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"Come on," I take his hand in mine and drag him through the frosted-over forest. "We have to catch at least a few squirrels before leaving," I say and he mumbles a string of curses but follows me anyway.

We had been crouched behind a bush for so long now that my legs began to ache from my position. Eris was fletching an arrow leaning back against a tree, his auburn hair blending in with the trunk of the redwood. I admire his pale features, his sharp nose, and high cheekbones. His amber eyes that were flecked with gold if you were close enough to notice. I was just about to blurt something foolish about how handsome he was, when the crunch of snow sent my ears peeking up.

Eris froze too, becoming alert and peering over the side of the tree as I drew my arrow from its quiver and nocked it against my bowstring. The sound of steps comes from behind, straight at us, growing faster.

I whirl around and aim at the grey creature bounding towards Eris.

The smokehound pup trotted towards him with a limp rabbit in his maw. The hound chuffs then drops it at Eris' feet as an offering. "Aw, he's brought you a gift," I beam wildly. "You should turn the rabbit into jerky and treat him with it. He'd love that," I say while patting the pup's dark coat.

His gaze lingers on you for a long moment, analyzing your gentle features when you look at the dog. "Maybe I will," He mutters and I look over to him with a soft smile. "I think we're done for the day," I say and stand upright, stretching my legs as I do so. He does the same, the pup looking up at him with his tail wagging excitedly. Eris bent down and patted the dog's head and the hound began running circles around the both of us.

Eris shakes his head with feigned annoyance. I grabbed him by his collar and pulled him forward, right into me. His arms wrapped around my waist on instinct, stabilizing himself with his hands planted on my torso— and even through all the layers of clothing, I could feel the warmth emanating from him. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, right?" I tilt my head up at him and he nods with a soft smile.

"Mhm, bring Flynt," I say and he raises his brows.

"Is that his name, now?" He asks, looking down at the dog weaving between us happily.

"You said I could pick," I shrug innocently and his smile grows.

"Flynt it is," He nods, then leans forward and places a soft, precious kiss on my forehead. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, Princess." He whispers against my frosty skin and I nod, taking a wobbly step back and turning away towards my Court before I got the idea in my head that I could find us an empty cabin to live in until we were old and rotting.

I don't bother with goodbyes and continue my march towards the Mountain Home. But I did look back, just once, to see Eris and his new obedient pet walking alongside each other back towards the realm of crackling bonfires and falling leaves.

Eris Week Tag List: @adharanotfound @mp-littlebit @its-me-meg @olive-main @bookwormysblog @inurus @iwishiwasaprincess @randomgurl2326 @tigerlily00 @i-know-i-can @bubybubsters @booklover0318 @lalaluch @hallabongy @paintedbyshadows @ninthcircleofprythian @weirdo-fun

Comment an “🧡” to be added to the Eris Week tag list!

[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.

[ysmtttty]

Azris AU with Azriel as Eris’ bodyguard.

Just Azriel as Eris’ bodyguard.

[strykozart]

Vanserra Ink 🍂

For @azrisweek Day 3: Contact

[sirenpearldust]

Broken doll

Pair: Azriel x reader, Eris x reader

Modern au

Description: You have it all, a loving family, friends, beauty, intelligence and talent. You were admired wherever you went but the only person you cared about was him, Azriel, your true love. But when Elaine enters the picture, everything changes. As Love shifts and loyalties waver, your heartbreak turns to fury.

series masterlist

⊹ Chapter 1

⊹ Chapter 2

⊹ Chapter 3

…

[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

[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

[sodapopwrites]

the first sign of fall chapter five: as sick as it sounds i loved you first

college au, the inner circle boys and the reader are bartenders.

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

summary - at the annual hockey party you have two much needed, long time coming, conversations.

word count - 4.2k

a/n - okay okay guys we're on our way to HEALING. this is good. i don't know man. at least they're all finally starting to communicate a little bit. I mean it's mostly her but hey she is drunk word vomiting. they boys don't have much room to talk. also they're stupid men....so.

read the rest of the series here!

You didn’t want to work. Didn’t want to get out of bed. Didn’t want to do anything. Blankets wrapped around you, cacooning you in a soft straight jacket of warmth. You hadn’t moved in hours despite being awake. Nothing seemed to really matter lately. Your shades were drawn. Darkness shrouding your room. 

Empty. You felt empty. Your apartment a shallow husk of a home. 

You thought of your favorite sweater, still at Eris’ apartment. Your hairbrush and your good pair of sneakers. Plants that had previously sat on the shelves of your room, now resting on the window sill of Eris’ living room. The sleep you had grown accustomed to. Warm and comfortable. His bedsheets cool against your skin and the smell of his cologne drifting through your nose. His fingers combing through your hair. His kisses along your collarbone to wake you up. Wasted. By what? A game you had played along with for traditions sake. For what? 

Eris. The day you had met him. Your freshman year. Two years ago.  In his white cable knit sweater, fraying around the edges. Expensive things he let go into disarray as if he didn’t care. A carefully curated look of dishevelment. His smirk and his glittering eyes. The way you could never get yourself to talk to him. The way his swaggering confidence and sharp remarks scared you shitless. The way his eyes would sometimes meet yours across crowded coffee shops, quiet libraries, or crushingly packed parties. Like he could taste just how much you wanted to talk to him. The way you had fallen in love with him from a distance. 

The clock strikes one and you groan. Pulling your blanket over your head and rolling onto your stomach, before sliding out of your bed. Unwilling and unhappy. Fine. Work it is. You couldn’t call out. Rhys would kill you if Cassian was the only bartender. Nothing seemed to get done when Cassian was the only bartender. 

★ ★ ★

“So let me get this straight.” Cassian set several glasses on the counter top and angled his body towards you, “You think that avoiding both Az and Eris is the best way to go about things?” 

You don’t look at him. Shaking your head you continue washing the bar glasses, “I’m not avoiding Azriel. He isn’t talking to me….Just like last time.” 

“Maybe he’s waiting for you to say something.” 

Cassian moved closer to you. Forcing your attention away from the dishes. You huff a breath of vague annoyance and turn to meet his eyes. 

“What am I supposed to say?” 

He didn’t have an answer for you. He shrugged and pulled the glass out of your hands and nudged you away from the sink. Choosing to take your task instead of answering you. You look past him towards the clock on the wall. 

“I have to go. My shift is over and Az will be here any second.” 

“See. Avoiding.” 

You don’t respond as you take off your apron and tuck it beneath the bar, grabbing your bag, and heading for the door. You’re almost in the clear. Almost. You run directly into Azriel as he slides through the doorway. Muttering an apology you try to push past him, but he grabs your arm. Finally you look up from his chest to those hazel eyes, boring into you, studying your every slight facial expression. He opens his mouth to say something, but closes it before any words manage to escape. 

“Have uh…have a good shift.” 

With that your out the door. The cold fall wind whipping through your hair and stinging your cheeks red. You stand outside the bar. Out of breath from the one brief interaction with Azriel. The look he gave you still seared into your sightline. You look around the street. Empty, the streetlights just flickering on as it hit dusk, leaves no longer that buttery yellow and orange but a burnt red. Fall in full flush. The crisp air felt like an assault on your lungs. 

A ding from your phone snapped you out of the trance the weather had bewitched upon you. Mor. 

Mor: Come to the party with me tonight. 

You sigh. That was the last thing you wanted to do. The hockey team’s halloween party. The last thing you wanted to do. Another ding interrupts your response. 

Mor: I know you don’t want to go. But if I have to get drunk by myself imagine what could happen to me. 

You chuckle at the vague hint towards a catastrophe. You type out a response, 

You: What could possibly happen to you Morrigan?

Mor: Uhm…I have to be sexy by myself. Which is a damn shame. 

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth. Gnawing the already bitten raw flesh. A nervous tick. One that had been rearing it’s ugly head in the last couple weeks. You nod to yourself. Steeling yourself. You could do this. 

You: Fine. 

She didn’t respond. You knew she’d be at your apartment to pick you up in a couple hours anyway. 

★ ★ ★

“Stop fidgeting with your dress. You look good.” Mor hissed at you as you pulled your skirt down for what had to be the fourth time in the last couple minutes. 

The party was loud, the lights were low, and you were already three shots in, and working on your third drink. It was way too strong. One of Mor’s famous concoctions. It seemed the only way to get through this night. Your eyes scanned the room for familiar faces. You knew Azriel would show up. You knew Eris would be there two. Neither of them ever missed this party. You had been constantly scanning the room for Cassian’s towering form, knowing that Az and Rhys wouldn’t be far behind him. Luckily for you they hadn’t shown yet. 

You reached up to rub your neck. There was still a bruise there from where Azriel had sunk his teeth. That light red mark a reminder of the horrible decision you had made. You hadn’t heard from Eris since he told you he was done. You supposed that maybe you should stop expecting to hear from him. But the silence still hurt. It stretched through your mind constantly. That lack of communication. The gravity of the quiet. 

Mor looked you up and down. Her eyes narrowing as she flipped her hair over her shoulder and turned to face you fully, taking the cup out of your hands and pulling your arms lightly. 

“Loosen up. Come on. Let’s dance.” 

You hang your head and try to pull out of her grip, but when she wanted something she got it. So you begrudgingly let her drag you to the dance floor. Letting your body move with hers as the buzz of your drinks settled over you like a warm blanket. For a couple minutes, as the music washed over you, the bass pumping along with your heartbeat, you let yourself forget. About everything. 

But like all peaceful moments it didn’t last long. Out of the corner of your eye, through the flashing neon lights, and the swarm of people, you caught sight of him. Well you caught sight of a flash of auburn hair and a flash of freckles across cream skin. Eris. His face half covered by a golden mask that looked awfully like a fox. His hand on the small of some girls back. The girl wasn’t someone you knew. Another accessory. He had gone back to being exactly what everyone thought he was. 

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

Your words to him swam through your ears. A violet wave of memory. Something sour climbed its way up your throat and into your mouth. You pulled out of Mor’s grasp and searched frantically for a bathroom. Spotting it across the room you made straight for the door. Pushing past everyone. The crowd suddenly suffocating. The people bumping into eachother, jumping, huddled together. The music reverberating through the room. All of it overwhelming. All of it too loud. Suffocating. 

Azriel had just walked into the party. Cassian and Rhysand on either side of him. The first thing he saw was you. Booking it to the bathroom. Your eyes frantic and your hand coming to cover your mouth. He made to follow you, knowing exactly what was about to happen. And then he saw it. Eris had clocked you the same second he had. Both men made eye contact. Standing a couple feet away from eachother. Neither moving. Neither following. 

Eris had seen you before you saw him. You looked damn good. He was absolutley sure that Mor had put you in that outfit. The skirt a little too short. Your hair curled the same way Mor’s always was. You skin gleaming from sweat. The heat of the room making your every inch sparkle a little under the lights. Your eyes closed as you danced. Body swaying in time with the beat of the music. You looked too good. His jaw clenched. He was making sure to get closer to the girl he had brought. Making sure to make it very clear that this was his date. He saw the way your expression shifted. Saw the way the panic in you seemd to surface. It was almost like he heard the saw words you did. 

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

He hated every second of it. Every second of get back. But if he had to play the part. For you. For your friends he would do it.  Play the asshole. Be whatever it is that they wanted him to be. Over you? Yeah sure he could play pretend for a night. It was nothing right? It was casual. No labels. Just company. 

Eris thought of when he first saw you. His sophomore year. Two years ago. In your leather jacket. Your hair cut short. Your quiet remarks to your friends that always seemed to make them laugh. The blush that would spread across your cheeks when he’d meet your gaze. When he’d notice the way you stared. The way you were always flanked by your guard dogs. Cassian and Azriel. Sometimes Morrigan and Amren. Always too accompanied to approach. Your coy smile and your heavy lashes. A sight for sore eyes at every suffocating party and overly heated coffee shop. An ever present distraction. The way he would laugh louder to see if it would draw your attention, and it always did. The way that he had finally gotten you alone at the start of term party this year. When years of passing interaction, casual hellos, and a warm smile had finally gotten him into your life. 

And then he saw Azriel. Saw how Az noticed you fleeing the dance floor just as he did. Noticed the way that his body was arched into your pursuit the same way his own was. Both feeling that incessant need to make sure you were okay. Their eyes met. Play the part. Let him have it. Be what they want you to be. He broke eye contact with Azriel and bent his head in submission. Go on. The motion seemed to say. You play your part and I’ll play mine. Eris leaned back down to the girl he had brought. Pretending to listen to whatever she was saying as his eyes trailed Azriel to the bathroom. Nodding, not paying attention as he followed shadowsinger across the floor and stood at the closed bathroom door, listening to the conversation held within. 

★ ★ ★

You didn’t want to throw up. You paced the small bathroom clutching your stomach. You were a bartender for fucks sake. If you couldn’t hold your alcohal then what was the point? You clenched your eyes shut and shook your head. Trying not to let anything come up. Slowly you sank to the ground. Letting your head fall against the wall behind you, your hand clutching the rim of the toilet as if in preparation for what was to come. 

The door creaked open and Azriel slid into the room. White t shirt, soaked with blood, clinging to his frame. His hair greased and parted down the middle. A plastic curved knife tucket into the belt loop of his jeans. Billy Loomis. Of course he had dressed up as Billy Loomis. You had watched scream together last year. You vaguely remembered telling him he’d look damn good dressed up like that, before Cassian snorted and said something about it somehow not being emo enough and god forbid Az wear anything but a black shirt. 

He crouched down next to you. Slowly pushing the hair out of your face and moving your body towards the toilet. Holding your hair in one hand and gently brushing a hand over your back as he whispered, 

“Just let it out.” 

You shook your head. Humming your disagreement. But the movement of your body, the small shift in your position, the shake of your head. It sent you over the edge and you lurched over the toilet. Wretching and coughing. Azriel softly shushed you, trying his best to be comforting, trying to be soothing. He had held your hair back while you vomited more times than he could remember. Freshman year was your black out drunk year and he remembered it well. 

Slowly you raised your head, blinking through watery eyes at Azriel. His concerned expression did nothing to calm the storm in your stomach. In your head. You sucked in a shuddering breath and he tilted his head. 

“Why do you only like me when I’m sad?” 

Your question was like a knife to his gut. A sharp, achingly cold, pain twisting it’s way through his organs. He slightly shook his head as if he didn’t understand. You sniffled, hiccuping slightly as you continued, 

“You dont…You only want me when you can’t have me or when I’m so fucking distraught that I can’t think straight.” 

Twisting. Pushing deeper. That knife. Like you wanted his insides to spill out and his blood to drench your hands. 

“Why?” 

A whisper. Small and pleading. He couldn’t think of something to say. His mind completely blank. You push his hands away from you. Off your shoulder and out of your hair. Scrambling away from his contact. 

“I left. That first time. Because I was so fucking scared that when you woke up you’d pretend it didn’t happen. That we’d go back to being friends and act like nothing had changed. I left because I was convinced it didn’t mean anything to you and I just didn’t want to hear you say it. I didn’t want to see the regret on your face if I was still there.” 

You never talked about it. A silent agreement to never talk about what happened two years ago. Your first comment on it brought a horrified look to his face that he couldn’t wipe away fast enough. But he tried. Tried to reknit his brows and close his mouth, 

“You’re drunk” 

You wave your hands and shake your head, “No. No. I didn’t want to just be a pity fuck that you didn’t care about. That you didn’t ever want to talk about. So I left and I hoped you’d prove me wrong and you never did. You stayed silent and we never fucking talked about it again. Because I was right.” 

“You weren’t” 

Azriel wanted to believe it. Wanted to be able to tell you that you were wrong. Wanted to tell you it was more than that. But that knife in his gut. It was all he could focus on. The sharp blade of reality. He wanted you when you were sad. Something to fix. Something he could try to piece back together. But he knew you were never something he could hold together. So he was there when you needed rebuilding. Your voice struck him again, 

“I was. I was right.” 

You rose to your feet now. Pushing past him as he stood to try and block you. Shoving your hands into his chest to get him to move out of your way. 

“You only like me when I’m sad.” 

You clutched the door handle and wiped your face hastily. Trying to rid yourself of any crying evidence. Not wanting to look a mess in front of the people you knew were lined up outside the bathroom door. 

“I had something. Someone. That wanted me when I was whole. When I was happy. Someone who made me happy.” 

He reached for you and you flinched away, “And I let you ruin it because for some reason I kept thinking. How could I deserve it?  And now look at me.” 

You motioned around the bathroom, at yourself. As if you could illustrate the hollow feeling in your gut. In your chest. 

Azriel muttered your name. The only thing he could think to say. You pressed your lips into a tight line and took a deep breath before leaving him to stand alone in the bathroom. 

★ ★ ★

You pushed your way through the sweltering room. The patio. The front steps. It didn’t matter. Outside. You just wanted to be outside. You bump into Rhys before you can get to the door. His hands reaching to clasp your shoulders. His face etched with worry. His eyes scanning your face and one hand smoothing your hair down. 

“You okay?” 

You could barely hear him over the din of the party. You nod quickly and push his worrying hands away, 

“You got a cigarette?” 

“Uh yeah?” 

He reached into his chest pocket and pulled out a pack, handing you one, and slipping a lighter into your free hand as you tuck the cigarette behind you ear. Pushing past him you head for the door once more. Slipping out. Relishing in the way the cool october air pricked at your exposed skin. The way it burned your nostrils and finally provided a steady gust of air to your lungs. You walk to the curb, sitting down and fumbling with the lighter that Rhys had given you. 

Trying to light the cigarette proved difficult with the halloween wind and the light rain now dripping from the velvet sky. Someone tall moved to stand in front of you, blocking you from the breeze and the drizzle. Finally allowing the lighter to spark to life. You muttered a thank you, taking a long drag, and finally looked up at the figure before you. 

Eris. 

“I thought you didn’t want to talk to me” Smoke flowed past your lips as you said it. He offered a half hearted smile before crouching to sit on the curb next to you. Someone who made me happy. Your words to Azriel echoing in Eris’ ears as he sat. 

“I just wanted a smoke.” 

He pulled the cigarette from your fingers and took a drag. Holding eye contact with you like a challenge. 

“That girl finally bore the shit out of you?” You shouldn’t comment on it. On her. You had no right. You were never really together in the first place and after what you had done. Running to Azriel as soon as Eris said he was done with you. You shouldn’t comment on it. 

He shrugged and tried his best to blow the smoke away from you as he exhaled. He turned back towards you. His eyes wandering across your face, down your neck, across your shoulders, and then suddenly backtracking. Back to the crook of your neck. That ever fading bite mark. That last physical reminder. His eyes stayed there. The deep russet color now smoldering. 

“You finally done with Az? Or is that just getting started?” 

“There’s nothing to start. There never was. I…get that now.” 

He snorted and brought the cigarette back to his lips. You ran your tongue across your teeth. Trying to think of something to say. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for. You did exactly what you were expected to.” He paused and you spoke again, 

“Is that what you’re doing? Bringing a date here?” 

He shrugged again. Play the part. Eyes still boring their way through your soul. That slight bit of connection. That eye contact. However frustrated, however angry, filling some sort of hole that he had left in you. You sigh deeply and stare at your shoes. Lightly tapping your heels together like maybe the motion would somehow bring you home. Straight back into his arms. But it wouldn’t. 

“You know. We don’t have to stay the way other people see us.” 

Something in his gaze softened. Like your words had cracked through his walls. Built some sort of window that could be opened into a real conversation. So you continued, 

“Something to be fixed or someone to hate. Angry. We don’t have to be angry.” 

“Are you angry?” His voice was cool. Like he didn’t want you to know that he really did wonder if you were angry with him. For pushing you out. For being unwilling to talk after one issue. 

“Not at you. At myself for…” You trailed off. Eyes going distant. Voice growing soft and much much warmer. “Do you remember when we first met? You were wearing that white sweater. The one with the holes in it.” 

He tried not to smile. He didn’t think you remembered that. Didn’t know if you even really bothered to remember anything about him before he had managed to convince you to let him into your life for real. He nodded, looking away from you. 

“You know…When you finally made a move on me a couple months ago. I couldn’t fucking believe it. Eris Vanserra, could have anyone he wants, heir to his fathers company, ever charming, hockey super star, total fucking asshole to everyone….was talking to me like he really cared what I had to say.” 

He still wasn’t looking at you. He had hung his head and closed his eyes. As if remembering that night himself. 

“I don’t know if you were going to say it in the locker room. It seemed like you were. But…” You slump your shoulders before standing up and brushing yourself off. Leaves falling from where they had stuck to your legs. He turned to look at you, his eyes searching, almost pleading. Like he was begging you not to say what you were about to say. 

“As sick as it sounds. I loved you first Eris. I was just waiting for you to notice and then when you did I was so fucking scared that you would do what everyone told me you would do, that you’d fuck me and then leave me like it was nothing.” 

Again it felt like you were going to throw up, “And you proved them wrong. And that was scarier. Because what if I didn’t deserve it.” 

He tried to say something, but you cut him off. “You don’t have to say anything. You don’t have to forgive me. Maybe you shouldn’t. But I just…” 

You shake your head. Almost like you were giving up and started to walk away. You were going to toss one final thing over your shoulder. But you squared your shoulder and looked at him. He was standing now, like he wanted to follow you. Like he wanted to walk you home. Something he had grown so used to doing. But he didn’t budge as you said, 

“I feel empty without you.” 

A small smile spread across his face. A smile he had thrown at you when everything was okay. When you two were good. When you were happy. Mischievous. Fox like and sly. 

“Not like that. Not like in a sexual way. In the like I miss you way. Asshole.” 

A small laugh escaped his lips at that. At your slight teasing tone. You stare at each other for a moment before you say, serious now, 

“I miss you.” 

And with that you turned and started to walk down the street. You had to go home. You didn’t want to talk to any of your friends. Didn’t want to face Azriel again. Didn’t want to drink anymore or dance or act like everything was fine. 

He wanted to say it back. Every bone in his body screaming at him to say it back. To tell you that he missed you too. But he couldn’t. You were too far away. Too drunk. Too sad. 

But that smile he had given you. That teasing tone that you had held for even a split second. A small glimmer of hope. Maybe there was something to salvage there. 

Azriel leaned against the doorframe of the house. He had been watching the conversation you had with Eris. Not able to hear it, but monitoring from afar. He had followed you out. To try and talk. Try and apologize for everything. For how stupid he had been. He didn’t want to lose you…as a friend. Above all else as a friend. As family. That’s what you were supposed to be. You and everyone else in your friend group. Family. Your final words were all he had managed to hear. 

I miss you. 

Something you would have never said to him. Rightly so, Azriel supposed. Eris eventually turned away from your fleeting form and met Azriel’s eyes. Az wondered how long Eris had known he was skulking in the background. He offered Eris a small nod. A small concession. Eris nodded back. 

A brief. Silent. Understanding of sorts maybe. 

taglist:

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

@the-sylver-dragon @scarsandallaz @fairydustblossom 

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

@hextech-bros @redr0sewrites @tolietpaperwater

[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.

Comment an “🧡” to be added to the Eris Week tag list!

Eris Week Tag List: @adharanotfound @mp-littlebit @its-me-meg @olive-main @bookwormysblog @inurus @iwishiwasaprincess @randomgurl2326 @tigerlily00 @i-know-i-can @bubybubsters @booklover0318 @lalaluch @hallabongy @paintedbyshadows @ninthcircleofprythian @chasing-autumns-chill @deepestmentalitypersona @myromanempiree

[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.