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kikunai · 2 days

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Limbus Company Canto VI's insane foreshadowing, callbacks and details

(AKA really fucking good and consistent writing)

these are details that only make sense when you play canto 6 for the second time. spoilers alert.

Mirror world shenanigans:

you can hear Heathcliff?'s pitch dropping slowly before the reveal (6-33/EP35)

T Corp residents carry timepieces as personal identification (6-03/EP4) but they do not have them, not even their chains. (6-18/EP19)

Dead Rabbit boss and Heathcliff have around the same height, which is very unusual as PM has diverse heights for different characters

DR boss calls his gang "Mad Coney" at first (6-10/EP12) [though this may be a nickname]

in the conversation between DR boss and Heathcliff (6-10/EP12), the former has an uncanny deep understanding of his past.

Faust:

<… Sometimes, Faust looks like she's pausing to look at something before speaking.> -- Dante (6-25/EP28)

Faust makes an indifferent noise when 1. Ishmael and Yi Sang observed that broken mirrors were heard when dead rabbit henchmen die (6-18/EP19); and 2. Heathcliff? mentioned he watches Hindley dies every time (6-33/EP35)

Lightning strikes:

"… A momentary musing reveals that a strike of levin brings about a sensation that is not unlike the joy of fireworks. It fills the dark and cold void of the night sky with its incandescent brilliance, even for a brief moment, before fading away into oblivion." "… Right. And in exchange, it loses everything it has, burning and leaving nothing but ash behind. What joy is there to be found?" -- Yi Sang and Heathcliff (6-07/EP8)

Each strike of lightning is a blessing… For it signifies that you have a place in her heart. -- Linton (6-36/EP40) The thunder of every lightning that struck the manor… was the sound of her breaking heart. With every heartbreak, the lightning strikes. The pain, the bereavement, the shock… are all manifest as lightning, then darkness. Thus, the lightning only indicates that the person in question was so important to her… -- Linton (6-37/EP41)

(before the funeral) "I was never once 'rich' in this manor. I wasn't even allowed to be content. Not even for a moment. And this manor. This manor never accepted me, not even for a—" (6-07/EP8)

"No… this isn't at all what I… I…" "Come back, Cathy. Please…" "Hear my voice just this once, Cathy!!!" -- Heathcliff (6-12/EP14)

"You were the first to leave her, yes… but I assure you, it was certainly for the better. Because she would have… left you first if you hadn't. Because she would have grown tired of you!" "Tired… of me…?" --Linton and Heathcliff (6-21/EP24)

Hindley dying (6-32/EP34)

Heathcliff distorting (6-34/EP37)

Linton dying (6-37/EP42)

Nelly defeated (6-46/EP50)

Heathcliff stabbing himself with the golden bough (6-47/EP51)

Heathcliff dismissed Catherine's feelings when conversing with Yi Sang. It was supposed to brighten Heathcliff's heart, to bring him joy, yet he believes it is nothing and leaves nothingness.

Colours:

Heathcliff mentioned he likes the colour black as "the colour you get when you dump an entire set of paint into a bucket [...] And that's exactly why I tolerate it. Keep throwing paint over paint over paint… and you get black" (6-05/EP6)

"Thus, I have journeyed to this world. To devour every one of those hours. So that you may be stained with the same despair that painted me…" -- Heathcliff? (6-34/EP36)

"Endless vortex of colours, mixing into a sludge. A splash of grey paint over the heart that once gleamed violet. A splash of bloody red paint. Splashes of faded colours. Again and again… until there was nothing but blackness. Unseen by all. Unnecessary to anyone. The colour of the pitch-black night -- The colour of the Backstreets." -- Heathcliff (6-46/EP50)

[ Not a single color remained in the silent Wuthering Heights once the tempest passed. All monochromatic, save for patches of color. ] (6-48/EP53)

[ Come back, Heath. To the manor where the last vestiges of its beauty remain in its violet flowers. ] (6-01/EP1)

Colours are a synecdoche of Wuthering Heights, their impact and their affluence. After Hindley, Linton and Catherine's death, all it remains was Heathcliff.

Nelly's lies, partial truths and betrayal:

Nelly wrote the invitation letter, with Catherine's remark. "Besides… all she said is that she'd be waiting. She never said she missed me or 'wanted' to see me." (6-04/EP5)

"Oh, pish posh! Ridiculous! I was a Butler in direct service of Miss Catherine. Young Master Linton could plead and beg all he wants, but I won't always be taking his side." -- Nelly (6-11/EP13). This however doesnt mean she wont be against the sinners ("This manor has never been on your side. Not even once." (6-45/EP45)).

Nelly offhandedly mentioned she removed all the mirrors in the estate (6-18/EP19) [before Linton moved in (6-36/EP40)], presumably to make Catherine curious about the capital M Mirror

she doesnt recall Catherine opening the letters (6-18/EP19) nor blaming Linton for burning them (6-23/EP26) [even he claimed to have burnt them, possibly to spite Heathcliff (6-21/EP23)] since she burnt them before Catherine can even see them

Heathers, or Heaths for short:

Catherine spent a fortune to give heath colours (6-08/EP9), though Heathcliff did not get the meaning at first("You're wrong. There was no particular love for these flowers. There was no room, no warmth in that heart to spare for mere flowers.")

Linton brought Catherine a golden flower. she remarked that it was for his own sake, only as if he truly loves her he would have brought a violet flower instead (6-18/EP19)

"Those flowers bloom in places like desolate moors or steep cliffsides, so they may appear more lonely than anything else in the world. [...] All other flowers lose their colours and fade as they wither away. But this flower… even as it withers and wilts... remains the same colour. So when you're gone, I will dry these flowers and decorate my room with them." "Uh… what, like make rings of them flowers? Don't say something so foolish. Why would I ever leave you?" -- Catherine and Heathcliff (6-46/EP50)

"Those Flowers... are called Heath. The loneliest flowers that take root and bloom in the wild moorlands, but they're also flowers that survive no matter what devastating tempest comes their way. They endure it all and wait" -- Heathcliff (6-48/EP53)

Catherine's self sacrifice:

"Because birds are meant to fly. Not to be killed like that. Yes. Birds do not belong in their cages; they are beings born to soar the skies. So I am going to empty this pillow of their feathers." (6-19/EP21)

"… will every Heathcliff in every world find happiness?" "Yes, he will. So… it's not too late. For the sake of every remaining Heathcliff in every world, please, invite us to your world beyond. So that we may kill you first and move on to the next, to kill the Catherine of a different world. Again, and again…" "Then, only then, can every Heathcliff reach his own heaven." -- Catherine and Every Catherine (6-47/EP51)

"I don't love every Heathcliff in every world." "I love you. As you are now." -- Catherine (6-48/in game cutscene)

[ But Heathcliff was no longer trapped in a living dream. Perhaps that is precisely why he could open the door to see a new, wider world. ] (6-48/EP53)

The rose from Le Petit Prince referenced by Demian (6-48/EP53 post credit)

Vergilius:

"I am no longer concerned that, in my desire to fulfill the conditions for every clause in my contract, the manager might be irreversibly… hurt. I would be left with nothing if such a thing were to happen." -- Vergilius (6-06/EP7)

read Leviathan please.

=================

"… Where do you suppose he is? Heathcliff." "Miss..." "He doesn't have anything left. I am everything he has…" -- Catherine and Nelly (6-12/EP14) "In a way, we’re all ‘deprived’… and that can change a lot of things. Maybe there are things that we can understand only when we’re left with nothing." -- Hong Lu (6-01/EP1)

#kiku_text #limbus company #lcb heathcliff #heathcliff lcb #lcb catherine #catherine lcb #cathycliff #canto vi spoilers #i watched the 6h no commentary playthrough twice just to make sure the details are right #you WILL read about my blorbo

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umactuallycallie · 1 month

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More Heathcliff. I’m always pissed I don’t have a good adaptation of WH to watch when I’m on a kick for it lol - 1992 is best for Heathcliff (in terms of mannerisms), 1998 WASTED Matthew MacFadyen as Hareton and 2009….. not a fan.

#wuthering heights save me #wuthering heights fanart #wuthering heights #wuthering heights book #emily brontë #heathcliff #my art #heathcliff fanart #ohhhh boy I love this book

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brujawrites · 2 months

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✧ ˚ · . 𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 —

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐: "𝐌𝐨𝐤𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐭 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 -- 𝐇𝐞𝐲, 𝐲𝐨𝐮,"| masterlist | next chapter

contains: suguru x female reader, utahime iori, college au, modern setting, college!suguru, english major!suguru, pining, slow burn, eventual smut, sexual tension, secret crush, developing relationship, 18+ ONLY MDNI

synopsis: cozy cafe date where reader gets to know suguru a bit more! nervous feelings all a flutter! more story set up, including meeting reader's roommate & an unexpected invitation! ao3 - kofi - playlist - pinterest

"A small concern with how the engine sounds -- We held darkness in withheld clouds,"

— "Keep Driving", Harry Styles

Winter was very much still in season, but the cozy booth in the cafe near campus was warm enough with Suguru’s company. You were a little surprised when he suggested getting a coffee, but grateful for the chance to talk with him one-on-one. Suguru sipped on a flat white, listening to you talk about your method to tackling a shit ton of reading.

“It sounds really extra, but it helps me pick up on themes and patterns really quickly. Plus,” you continued after taking a sip of your dirty chai latte. “It makes the reading feel like a scavenger hunt.” As fascinated as he was by your strange method of note keeping, Suguru was still struggling to understand the method entirely.

“A hashtag system...,” he mused aloud.

"Actually, it's a self-made index," you corrected him with a playful grin. It was rare for you to feel this enthusiastic about something mundane with someone else. “Sorry, let me relax a bit,” you said, reeling in your enthusiasm. Suguru grinned widely.

“No, no, it’s okay, it’s cute,” he replied, prompting you to lift your drink to your lips. You hoped the rising steam from the hot tea masked the flush spreading across your face. Suguru's gaze darted back to his cup, searching for a new topic. Grateful for the shift, you welcomed the change, "So, in your self-made index, did any themes or patterns stand out to you from the reading?"

“Well, Wuthering Heights is named after the manor. It’s a novel based on a place. The place is crucial. The atmosphere, the deterioration of the house," you listed points you had notated in your index for class. Suguru’s deep brown eyes were challenging to hold contact with as you spoke. It felt like he was absorbing every word you uttered. Maybe you just weren’t accustomed to that level of attention, especially not from the guy you’ve been eyeing for the last couple of years.

“Okay, wait, this is actually making a lot of sense,” he mused. “I think I’m… impressed?” His unexpected admission caught you off guard, and you blinked in surprise at his words.

“Why? Because there’s a meaning to my madness?” You smirked at the boy playfully. “When you reduce the interesting parts of the story, like the failed upkeep of Wuthering Heights overtime, Heathcliff’s disposition — well, just reduce it to a simple word that describes it, and it turns out deterioration is a huge theme.” You paused to analyze Suguru’s expression; silent, stoic, listening… or possibly bored? The unreadable mask on his face made it hard to decipher his thoughts.

“So, you just take those thematic concepts to build an argument, keeping track of the quotes that touch on the themes, then later when you’re writing a paper, or trying to contribute to the class discussion, you just flip through your notes, and boom.” You meet his gaze again, trying to wrap up your little demonstration quickly. “It argues for itself.”

Even if you weren’t boring him or talking too much, just the notion haunted you. You found yourself scanning the cafe, half-expecting familiar faces to distract you or save the conversation. A sudden vulnerability crept in, an unsettling feeling you hoped wasn’t plastered on your face. Despite eagerly awaiting Suguru’s response, you just felt yourself becoming a little too... conspicuous. Visible? Was that the right word?

As he absorbed your words, Suguru found his mind drifting from the conversation at hand to the growing intrigue about the girl before him. It wasn’t that he hadn’t noticed you before, but he'd never made an effort to catch your attention. Last year, during that poetry class, he only caught a glimpse of you, but the aftermath left him feeling a bit… off-kilter. Chagrin? Was that the right word? Suguru had never been the polished academic type, so despite putting in considerable effort, it didn't always reflect in his grades.

To him, you were almost out of reach. Almost unreadable. He hadn’t stepped up to the challenge that is you, but this semester — his last semester — why shouldn’t he? Getting to sit with you while you talked him through your complicated note taking process was nice, but he wondered if he could somehow get you off that topic.

“So this is how you managed to ace Professor Sheppard’s Form & Theory class last spring?” He asked, genuinely interested, but the smirk on his face threw you off. He wasn’t making fun of you, was he?

“I honestly don’t know what happened in that class. Or the one I took with him last semester.” You admitted, hoping to come across humbly. Suguru’s eyes widened at your statement.

“You’re shitting me,” he said in disbelief. “You took another class with that asshole?” The laughter spilled from your mouth before you knew it was there. Obviously the disdain for that professor was common among the English Department at your university, but expressing it aloud seemed so taboo.

“Yeah, dude,” you nodded soberly. “And what makes it worse is he used me as an example for the class.”

“What?” Suguru looked genuinely annoyed for a second before you realized how bad ‘ being used as an example’ sounded.

“Oh!” Your hands waved him down like he was a flame you were trying to shoo away from getting too big. “Not like that, he just made me seem like a star student. He bragged about my organization skills and…” your voice trailed off thinking back on the fall semester from hell you just escaped. “It was pretty bad. Last semester was hard on my mental health, you know?” You left it at that, not wanting to dive too deep into details unprompted.

Meeting Suguru's gaze felt like being ensnared; there seemed to be no escape from his piercing eyes.

Meeting Suguru’s gaze felt like a giant spotlight; there seemed to be no escape from being perceived by him at that moment. He was focused on your words, waiting for the next couple of sentences to fall from your lips. The truth of the matter is last semester was the lowest you’d ever felt and you weren’t sure how appropriate it was to bring up such personal issues. Lowering your eyes in response, Suguru somehow got the hint you didn’t give.

He glanced down at his watch before meeting your gaze again. “I get it. If you ever want to talk about it more, you know where I am every Tuesday and Thursday morning,” he grinned sheepishly before gathering his coat & bag. “I’ve gotta run to catch this sociology lecture, but let’s hang again.” His smile almost left you stunned.

“Of course, Suguru,” you said with a smile. “See you Thursday.” As he stepped away towards the exit and to class you took it upon yourself to use the rest of your time as productively as possible. Taking out your laptop, you started to go through the motions of opening up your calendar, checking your email, and other general housekeeping, but stopped when you reached for your drink and saw Suguru’s cup.

Your lips pressed into a small smile as you started to process the moment you were so desperately trying to disconnect from. You just had coffee with Suguru Geto. A smile crept up on your lips at the thought of him giving you his attention as you spoke. A brief lapse of insecurity ran through your core as you worried how you came across. He had seemed friendly enough, but, ultimately, you worried about being overwhelming. Sharing too much. Being too much.

Suguru didn’t think that of you, though. In fact, as he moved away from your conversation, a renewed curiosity swirled within him. Thoughts of how to recreate that moment lingered in his mind, weaving through various scenarios. And to think you were about to open up to him. A subtle, knowing smile played on his lips as he made his way across campus to his next lecture with a lightness to his step. He could sense so much just beneath the surface of your expression, he knew he could figure you out. At least, he hoped.

The rest of the day went by unassumingly. After attending another lecture, you trudged back to your apartment through the wintry slush that lined the sidewalks. The second you unlocked the front door and stepped inside, your nose was greeted by the sweetness & warmth of cinnamon. Kicking off your shoes, you yelled out your arrival to Utahime before moving towards the kitchen.

“Oh, hey!” Utahime greeted you with a big smile. “I’m making milk and rice.” she was all bundled up in a snuggie and slippers as she stirred the pot full of your favorite dessert.

“It smells so good, dude,” you breathed in the aroma almost desperately before turning to take a seat at the small table in the kitchen. There is a part of you that wants to gush about your first class of the day and how you’ve effectively launched a self-imposed campaign to get to know Suguru Geto before graduation. How he called you cute , how could you forget that till now?

“I figured after being so brave & tackling the first few days of class in such horrible weather, we deserved a treat.” You couldn’t agree with her more. She began to serve scoops of the concoction into bowls, sprinkling cinnamon on top as an extra garnish. Having Utahime as a roommate was nice. She really cared for you like a big sister.

When you joined the sorority, you had been getting to know girls for maybe three weeks before your Big was assigned to you, the Little. They were meant to be mentors for the new members to look up to & get guidance from them, so a lot of the pairings were based on similar goals or habits you two may have shared. You remember having to rank on a scale of 1-5 in level of importance different categories like “leadership,” “philanthropy,” or “social life,” -- and you, as ambitious as ever at nineteen years old, prioritized leadership; this was before you realized nobody actually cared about anything other than impressing fraternity boys from high ranking fraternities. The #1 match for you was -- surprise, surprise -- Utahime Iori, the current Vice President at the time you joined.

Other than your ambition, there were just a handful of things you two had in common, but you really admired her. She carried herself with gravity and grace which was something you felt you could stand to learn a bit more about. There were parts of you that you kept away from her, like your smoking habit, she knows about who you hook up with, but never the details. There were times where you were sure she was disappointed in a couple decisions you’ve made in that area, but she was always there for you at the end of the day. This was your second year living together in the three years you’ve known each other. Lucky for you, she chose to enroll in your university’s master program instead of going elsewhere, so you were able to keep your roommate.

She really did care about you, but, no, you decided you wouldn’t bring up Suguru and your little coffee date this morning. Not until it actually became something. You silently began to snack on the milk & rice Utahime made for the both of you when she excitedly gasped to get your attention.

“Oh, there’s an unofficial mixer with Pike on Thursday night!” she beamed at you, trying to gauge your reaction. Even in her master program, Utahime maintained such strong connections in her social circles that she was telling you about mixers before actual active members were able to. “It’s Jersey Shore themed,” she grinned like an idiot while you laughed off your sour face.

“Everybody’s so creative,” you mused sarcastically. She nodded while taking a sip from her tea.

“Yeah, right? I know exactly what I’m wearing though. I figured we could pre-game here with a couple sisters before ubering over there fashionably late.”

By “fashionably late,” Utahime was referring to the unspoken rule about mixers. The university representatives set rules in place to avoid things like hazing or underage drinking. Mixers are required to have a 30 minute sober period, but after that it’s anyone’s game. Most of the time what happens is everyone shows up 35 minutes late, treats the mixer like a pregame, & once the party starts itself the fraternity usually opens up their doors and sends out their address to begin hosting the weekend’s parties.

“So, you’re coming, right?” Utahime pressed the question with her intense eye contact. This probably had something to do with how reclusive you became last semester. You would miss out on functions, leave parties unannounced and by yourself, only to end up walking home alone through the rain, and writing some sort of melodramatic poem. Utahime never understood why you got in those moods, she definitely didn’t know how to help other than to encourage you to branch out. You looked up at her and smiled.

“Yes, I’ll go with you.” Finishing up your bowl of rice, you stood up before placing it in the sink. “I’ll start putting together my outfit,” you added, leaving the kitchen to retire to your room.

#jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #geto fanfic #suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto x you #suguru x you #jjk au #geto suguru

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undreaming-fanfiction · 2 years

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We all know that Steve isn't big on reading, possibly because of all the head trauma. Eddie is the opposite, he basically lives in books. Sometimes he reads to Steve before sleep, or when Steve cooks, bakes, anything that requires his focus. Even when audiobooks become a thing, he says he can't fully focus on a book unless it's in Eddie's voice. That might be a lie, but Eddie never tries to disprove it.

What Eddie does, however, is note down interesting quotes from the books he reads. He scribbles them onto sticky notes in his messy handwriting and then leaves them for Steve to find - in his pockets, on the fridge, in Steve's favorite coffee mug.

Sometimes they are short. Sometimes they take up several sticky notes. But there is always an addition from Eddie, something to make it personal.

"What is love? There is nothing in the world, neither man nor Devil nor any thing, that I hold as suspect as love, for it penetrates the soul more than any other thing. Nothing exists that so fills and binds the heart as love does. Therefore, unless you have those weapons that subdue it, the soul plunges through love into an immense abyss." - The Name of the Rose, Umberto Eco. Made me think of you.

"He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same." - Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontë. Shows that music taste doesn't reside in the soul, don't you think, big boy?

“I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone.” – The Fellowship of the Ring, J. R. R. Tolkien. I've read this so many times, but I only get it now, Stevie. You made it make sense.

Of course, there are funny ones too, inspirational ones, but the ones about the two of them are Steve's favorite. He keeps all the sticky notes organized in a binder, with dates and maybe even snippets of the books when he attempts to read them. He rarely finishes any of them, but Eddie finds himself not caring about it anymore. The moments reading for Steve are sacred and he often throws the party out of the kitchen when Steve bakes. Well, sometimes with the exception of Will and El, those two are always welcome to their quality book time.

As Steve bakes snacks for the latest Hellfire campaign and Eddie's voice carries him to a different world full of adventure, knights and doomed romances, Steve stops him from time to time. "Um, could you- oh fuck, wait a second, I don't want this to burn..."

And before he finishes saving the pastries, there is a sticky note ready for him, with a small note: for my cute pastry savior.

Steve wonders how many binders he'll manage to fill during their life together. He can't wait to find out.

#stranger things #strangerthings #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie drabble #steddiedrabble #steddie hc #strangerthingsdrabble #stranger things drabble #steddie ficlet

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ash-says · 1 month

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hey girl! i hope you're doing well💗

would love some book recommendations from you<33

Hii girl!! I am doing great. Thanks for asking✨

Coming to your question it's kind of difficult to determine which genre you are looking for in recommendations.

I don't read self help books tbh. I am more of a fictional reader and books surrounding the area of my interests like politics, business, etc.

Still I can suggest some classic recs to you and manhuas (If you are into them like me):

1) Gone with the wind (Passionate. That's all)

2) The picture of Dorian Gray (I personally didn't find the story that engaging but it's best for vocabulary building)

3) The Great Gatsby (This one has kind of left me scarred, it's a deep one once you understand it)

4) Wuthering heights (Currently reading it but the pace seems slow in the start)

5) The dead poets society ( I bawled my eyes out for this one. 10/10 recommended)

Manhuas:

1) How to save the female lead's brother( Roxanne the main character is sooo badass. I hope it continues. Speedy recovery to the maker)

2) Beware of the Villainess

3) The Villainess is a Marionette (The art✨✨)

4) The Broken Ring (The emotional rollercoaster is just chef kiss)

5) Noragami (It's a manga but it's my all time favourite)

Non fictional books:

1) The India way

2) Wings of Fire

3) Indian Architecture ( I haven't completed reading this one)

That's all I have to share. Honestly I am a fictional reader at the core. So I hope I was able to suggest something helpful.

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faintingheroine · 4 months

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I can see an old man I personally know saving a random orphaned Syrian refugee kid off the streets if this was the 18th century. He is both religiously charitable and kind enough to do this. And while he is a good person, he wasn’t always the most understanding father to his own children, far from it.

He has a similar personality to the brief sketch of Mr. Earnshaw.

I don’t know, this whole adoption thing isn’t that absurd to me. It can happen. And after his adoption Heathcliff’s presence came to signify Mr. Earnshaw’s authority and wishes for his family to obey him since they at first defied his authority in not wanting him at the house. Heathcliff was also a more well-behaved child than his biological children. It just, if you consider the personalities of everyone involved, it isn’t as absurd as it seems in the first glance.

Also Mr. Earnshaw is Catherine Earnshaw’s father and I think they are supposed to be similar. Catherine does prefer Heathcliff to everyone else including her unborn baby, and she certainly can be unreasonable, mean and impulsive despite fancying herself as kind-hearted and reasonable. I know Catherine is in love with Heathcliff so her preferring him is more “normal” than in a parental relationship, but I still think that it is a parallel.

Also there is a parallel between Mr. Earnshaw and Heathcliff in them both preferring their foster son to their spoiled biological son.

It is just, Wuthering Heights is a well-structured construction. Have one wild parentage theory and the whole structure crumbles. And also it doesn’t fit in my opinion. Wuthering Heights isn’t a twisty turny book.

#wuthering heights #heathcliff #mr. earnshaw #the bastard child theory

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pizzaapeteer · 2 months

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🎵Get to know me through music 🎵

I wanted to participate in creating a tag list game, a little music one ✨ I hope I actually didn’t make this challenge hard, cuz I actually struggled myself having too many songs to pick from. But hope y’all enjoy! I’m excited to get to know people better through they’re music.

What’s a song you love but still haven’t learnt like any words to?

Beautiful day by U2. I froth for this song and yet don’t hardly know the verse at all, still.

What’s a song that you find empowering/makes you feel like a bad bitch?

Maneater by Nelly Furtado. This song will always make me feel like a bad bitch.

What’s a song you play when you're already sad to deepen the sadness?

Amsterdam by Coldplay, makes me cry all the time, the bloody piano.

What's a song that you always play on a road-trip?

The Spins by Mac Miller, it’s too good of a song to never not play.

What’s a song you’d love mostly for the beat/instruments?

Music makes you lose control by Les Rythmes Digitales, this one doesn’t really have any words. But I love the beat and I use to walk to my bf’s house playing this and it would just be such a fun vibe.

What’s a funny song that no one else gets but you?

This was a tossup, cuz lowkey the crash bandicoot soundtrack slaps. But I'm like completely obsessed with the Madagascar 2 album. So I had to pick Alex on the Spot Hans Zimmer, I be doing the dance from the movie where Alex and his dad save themselves from being roasted 🫢

What’s a recent song you've been vibing with?

Can't believe I only found this now butttt Stargazing by The neighbourhood

What’s a song that makes you always dance alone to in your room?

I had so many for this one because it's like one of my fav activities when I get ready for a night out. So lowkey I picked like three; She's so lovely by Scouting for Girls, Soul Surfing by Fatboy Slim, and Peanut Butter Jelly by Galantis.

What’s a song that you love because of the chorus?

Wuthering Heights by Kate Bush. I looooove this whole song; I have a very fond memory of singing this with my mum and her friends at my 21st. But I'm obsessed with the chorus and it's so fun to scream and twirl too.

What's a throwback song you still love?

A top fav for me will always be Shake it by Metro Station.

What's a song that would get everyone on their feet at a party where you live?

Slice of Heaven by Dave Dobbyn. This is a classic kiwi favourite in New Zealand. Literally such a feel good song and super wholesome 💛

Npt: @thatdammchickennugget @finalgirllx @jayybugg @suugarbabe @slytherinboysappreciation @slytherinslut0 @papercorgiworld @amongemeraldclouds @doremimosasol @cumberbitchhhh @riddlemenott @theostrophywife @heirofs1ytherin @theeslutintheroom @manthabeth.

anyone can join in, and reach out if we have any commonalities I would love to know!! 💛

#tag game #music get to know me #get to know me #fun challenge

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swansworth · 1 year

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By Fire’s Light [Part One]

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Summary: Kallias had warned you when he assigned you to act as an ambassador of the Winter Court within the borders of the Autumn Court, “Be careful with Eris Vanserra”. It was understandable advice; on the surface he was as cold as ice, utterly disinterested in the wellbeing of others. And yet, this male saved you and ensured your survival, a burning fire in his golden eyes. You could feel a pull within your heart, a small voice that said there was more hidden beneath the façade. So what was the truth; the ice or the fire?

Warnings for this part: mild alcohol use, mild violence, mention of torture, mentions of drowning and freezing, some language, slow burn

Word Count: 5320

Author Notes: This came to me while thinking about Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights and the film Crimson Peak and speaking with my darling, @bubbles-for-all-of-us , about classic literature and gothic romance. I realized that Eris fits that darker brooding gentleman archetype rather well and decided to roll with it. So enjoy part one of this romance with a hint of Brontë and Austen inspiration.

I will also note, as he is in a few scenes, that Dolos is the name I came up with for one of the unnamed Vanserra brothers. SJM is fond of tying in names from mythology into her works, so I thought it was fitting that the unnamed Vanserra brother be named after the Greek spirit of trickery. Marianne is his wife.

There was a loud clash as Marianne, in her drunken stupor, knocked over another vase. Dolos, who was one drink shy of being just as inebriated, gripped her arm firmly and dragged her to the doorway. Neither of them said a word as Dolos pulled her out of the parlor in the hopes of convincing her to retire for the evening. You watched the pair cautiously out of the corner of your eye, constantly wary around them. In your short time within the Autumn Court it had become obvious that Marianne would do anything to see her husband become the High Lord and Dolos was just as ruthless as his father, just as bloodthirsty and eager for power. Together, they were not to be taken lightly, even if all they seemed to do was cuss, drink, and smother one another in public displays of affection.

‘Well,’ you thought, ‘At least they like one another.’

When the sounds of their murmuring and scuffled footsteps finally faded away into silence, you turned your gaze to the eldest Vanserra brother. Eris hadn’t moved from his armchair near the fire in over an hour, too busy swirling what little wine remained in his glass and watching the flickering flames slowly settle into embers. There was just enough light that you could see the way his brow furrowed as if deep in thought.

“Did they not teach you that it is impolite to stare in your lands?” His voice was smooth and rough all at once, elegant with a natural husk to it. The amber of his eyes almost glowed in the dying firelight as he focused on you. His gaze held its usual intensity, stern and yet inquisitive, almost as if he were trying to dissect you.

“They did. Though I don’t think simply looking at you equates to staring.”

“This is not the first time I’ve felt your wandering gaze on me,” he said, uncaring of your previous statement. There was a shift in his expression as his usual grimace pulled back into an amused smirk. “Do you find me handsome?”

“Doesn't everyone?” The amusement vanished as quickly as it came. That was one thing you liked about Eris: he was not a fool. What many would take as a compliment he knew very well you meant as a subtle insult. “You’d be surprised,” he said simply before lifting his wine glass to his lips and downing the rest of the red liquid.

Silence fell between the two of you while he continued to stare at the fireplace and you thought about how to best slip out of the room.

When Kallias had asked you to stay in the Autumn Court in an effort to encourage peace and potentially secure an alliance, he had warned you about the Vanserras. Lucien was kind but was as clever as the fox that he was so often associated with. Dolos was a liar and a murderer who could not be trusted, but he could be persuaded to assist so long as he benefited greatly from the deal. Though, dealing with Dolos also meant dealing with Marianne who could see through almost any attempt of persuasion. The other two brothers tended to follow Dolos’s lead. Then there was Eris…

Your gaze drifted to Eris once more.

“Eris is possibly the biggest threat of them all,” Kallias had said, “He keeps his true thoughts to himself and is playing a long, dangerous game. You will never know if he is your friend or a foe as he plays both sides so well. He can be both the sheep and the wolf in sheep’s clothing simultaneously. Be careful with Eris Vanserra.”

Kallias had been right to warn you, Eris was every bit as cunning as he was handsome. You’d seen the way his eyes would flicker as he made mental notes of various conversations and tidbits of information. He had a journal, locked somewhere in his own private quarters, of his various thoughts and plans. Dolos had told you once after drinking his weight in ale and had mentioned that his father desperately wished to find it. If that were true, you wondered how the Winter Court would be able to benefit from such a thing.

“You have that look again,” Eris’s voice drifted through the now dark room and startled you slightly. You’d been so deep in thought that you’d forgotten he was there with you.

“And what look is that?”

“The one that means you’re planning something.” You heard his chair creak as he rose to his feet. There was a soft tap on a nearby table as he set his glass down, followed by the sound of his shoes faintly scraping against the hardwood floor as he made his way over to you. As your eyes adjusted to the dark you saw his silhouette crouch before you, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared at you. His eyes always seemed to be on fire, burning like molten gold, ablaze with something unspoken. “What sort of wicked scheme are you hatching, little moth?”

Little moth. In some regions of the continent, Winter Moths were viewed as an invasive species, as a danger to the world that needed to be exterminated as swiftly as possible. You knew that in Eris’s eyes that was exactly what you were; a pesky little insect that needed to be squished beneath the heel of his boot before you could ruin anything.

“I might ask the same question of you, Eris Vanserra,” you replied, your voice and gaze unwavering. Eris rose without a word but his eyes never broke the contact they held with yours. For a male whose powers were based in that of fire, all you felt when you were near him was cold. Everything about him was like ice; dangerous, frigid, and brutal.

“I would advise, dear lady,” he said at last, “That you watch your tongue in these lands, lest someone carve it out of your mouth.” With that he gave a bow and bid you goodnight before taking his leave. ‘Such a charming gentleman, truly,’ you thought as you watched him go.

Once alone, you allowed your mind to wander again. You thought over the day’s events and wondered what moments were worth sharing with Kallias in your next letter to him. Your eyes grew heavy as the clock on the wall continued to tick. Soon enough, before you had the chance to return to your chambers, sleep fell over you.

═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══

You woke up the next morning in your bed. The blankets were warm and cozy, implying that you had been in them for some time. Confusion filled your mind as you stared up at the ceiling. How did you end up there? You sat up and watched as the door opened, emitting two servants into the room. When they noticed you were awake, they both paused. The one on the left, a beautiful fae with russet brown hair and eyes like warm honey, made her way over to you and placed a hand on your forehead. “Oh thank the Cauldron. You’re all right.”

“Yes, why wouldn’t I be?” At your question, she shied away a bit and took a step back.

“Forgive me, my lady. The master was very worried about you and he insisted we verify you were well this morning.”

The master? Beron? Surely not; he wouldn’t have cared about your wellbeing. He had been nothing but cruel and unpleasant since you arrived. Even if he had agreed to allow an ambassador of the Winter Court in his lands, he was very clearly unhappy about it. Dolos wouldn’t have been kind enough to move you somewhere warm. So that meant…

“You mean Eris?” There was a hint of surprise in your tone as you spoke, but their answering smiles told you all you needed to know.

“Yes, master Eris. I am Selene, one of the servants in Eris’s employment. He asked me, and Viola over there, to see to your needs and to care for you if you were sick.” You glanced over at Viola. From what you could see, she seemed young, her rust-colored eyes wide and her curly auburn hair bouncy and full. Looking back to Selene, you asked, “Why would Eris think I was unwell?”

Viola stepped forward then, her voice bright and gentle as she said, “He told us he could not sleep, so he returned to the drawing room and saw that you were asleep on the same chair you’d been in when he had retired for the evening. He said that you had been cold as ice and were not breathing well.”

Your heart seemed to almost tighten as she spoke and one of your hands slid up to your chest. “When did he tell you this?”

“It was as he carried you through the door to your chambers, my lady. He called for us and had us follow him. He explained what had happened, told us what he expected of us, set a fire to warm the room then left.” At Selene’s words, your head snapped to the fireplace on the other side of the room.

There, still burning brightly, was a fire. Now that you were aware of it, you weren’t sure how you hadn’t felt it or seen it right away. You slid out of your bed and noted that the floor was not cold against your bare feet as it normally was. Making your way past Selene and beyond Viola, you slowly moved towards it like a moth to flame. You could feel the magic coming from it; it was strong and full of intent. Eris’s magic. The fire was warm, comforting, safe. You moved a hand towards it, to better feel the heat of it, and you could have sworn you saw it slowly flicker in response. It was beautiful, a darker color than the fire you were accustomed to seeing. This was Eris’s? This incredible, radiant thing? You remembered then that this same fire could lay waste to an entire kingdom, and so you took a step back and decided it wasn’t wise to linger.

“I don’t suppose you ladies would know whether or not I missed breakfast?” You asked, turning to face the two females.

“You did not, my lady,” Selene answered with a smile, “Master Eris instructed us to see to your needs. So if we may, allow us to get you ready for the day.”

You blinked in mild surprise but did not refuse. When you saw your reflection in the tall standing mirror near your armoire, you were glad that you hadn’t. “Thank you Selene and Viola. You’ve done wonderfully.” It was a genuine compliment and you caught them giving one another a knowing look before they bowed their heads and excused themselves. Once they had left, you made your way to the dining hall for something to eat.

As you entered the room, Eris rose to his feet. He assisted in pulling out your chair and tucking you in before taking his own seat. It had been established early on that you were to sit beside him through every meal. Truthfully, you would have chosen to sit beside him rather than any of his brothers regardless. He was at least civil most of the time.

After you’d managed to eat some food, you glanced at Eris, and said, “I want to thank you, for last night.”

“Think nothing of it.”

“May I ask why you did it? Your brothers would have left me there to freeze and grow ill.”

He turned his head to look at you and you watched his eyes narrow and darken. His voice was steady as he asked, “How heartless do you believe me to be?”

You could have sworn you saw the faintest flicker of hurt in his amber eyes when you replied, “I am currently undecided.”

“I see. Well, I suppose it is a good sign that your wit is still intact.” Guilt flowed through you as he turned his attention back to his breakfast. You clutched at your chest again, and took a steadying breath before returning to your own meal. Silence fell and you watched from the corner of your eye as Eris frowned at Dolos. You flicked your gaze to the other Vanserra and noticed how Marianne was sitting in his lap, hand feeding him grapes. With each piece of fruit, Dolos would gently suck Marianne’s fingertips and make faint noises of pleasure. With each noise, the frustration rolling off of Eris grew more potent.

“What’s wrong, brother?” Dolos teased, his voice breaking the silence.

“Merely observing.” Eris’s voice was tight and low, as if he were holding back a snarl.

“Observing is an awfully fancy way of saying you are jealous, Eris.”

“I can assure you, Dolos, I hold no envy.”

“You don’t want a beautiful lady on your lap and pampering you, Errie?” Marianne asked and you watched Eris fight back a scowl at the nickname. “I never said that, Marianne. On the contrary, I would be quite content to have a beautiful lady’s company. I’m certain Dolos would have liked the same.”

You nearly choked on your water at the insult and had to hide a smile behind your glass as Marianne retorted, “Are you insinuating that I’m ugly?”

“No, of course not. Merely stating that you’re not a lady.” You couldn’t hold back the laugh that came out of you and you saw Eris shoot you an approving look as Dolos and Marianne began to shout profanities at Eris. Regaining your composure, you listened as Eris calmly wound the situation down with tactfully phrased sentences.

"As much as I'd love to sit here and continue this riveting conversation, I really must be going." That was news to you. Eris had made no mention of traveling.

“Where are you off to?"

His gaze was searching as he looked at you, as if silently asking why you wanted to know. It softened after a moment and he said "I'm afraid I can't tell you all the details. The short version is I am meeting with some potential allies near the Night Court."

The Night Court. You had never been, but you had heard horror stories about the tortures that occurred there. Their High Lord, Rhysand, was said to be even crueler than Beron. What would he do if he knew the heir to the Autumn Court was so close to his lands? Your hand moved on its own accord and grabbed his forearm. You could feel the muscle of his arm and you squeezed slightly as you said, “Be careful, Eris.”

His hand was on top of yours then, warm and soft. You half expected him to say, “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were worried about me.” His fingers stroked your wrist gently, lazily, as he instead said, “I will be.” For a brief moment, you stared at one another and all the world seemed to be still and silent around you, and then he was gone.

“I seem to recall a conversation we shared about Eris’s journal, do you remember that?” Dolos’s voice cut through the quiet Eris had left in his wake and you turned your attention to him; noted the calculating look in his dark eyes. “Granted I was intoxicated at the time, but every word I had said was true.”

“I do remember. May I ask why you are bringing it up?” Dolos leaned forward as Marianne slid off his lap and sat beside him. There was something burning in those dark, almost black, irises and you stiffened in your chair as Dolos said, “Help me retrieve it.”

“What?” You couldn’t have heard him correctly.

“Tell me, why do you think my brother is meeting near the Night Court? You’re no fool, ambassador. You know as well as I that he is meeting with that bastard, Rhysand, and that he is hoping to form an alliance so that together they can overthrow my father.”

“Let’s say you’re right, why should I help you?”

Dolos smirked, “I cannot bring this matter up to my father without proof of Eris’s betrayal. Help me retrieve it and I will be certain that you and your court are safe when I am made High Lord.”

He couldn’t promise you that; no one could. Yet, you wondered whether it was worth the risk. Dolos was not known as an honest man, but if you could get him to swear to it, you may have some leverage. However, if you agreed, that meant that Beron would punish Eris and you had seen first hand the sort of punishment Beron could unleash. On your third day at the court, Beron had summoned you so that you could watch him make an example out of a traitor he’d discovered. It was brutal, bloody, and merciless. The traitor’s cries were seared into your memory. Beron had wanted you to see what would happen if you stepped out of line, and you understood entirely. That traitor had been a stranger to Beron. You couldn’t bear to think about what he would do to his own kin. It was a lot to consider. “Am I allowed to think it over?”

“Of course. Though, don’t take too long. If we are going to act it needs to be soon, before Eris has the chance to make a move.” You nodded and excused yourself. Time seemed to move differently in the Autumn Court and you wondered what you could do to fill your day up as you headed in the direction of the library. A letter to Kallias was well overdue, that was certainly one thing you could accomplish. As you continued to ponder, you heard light footsteps behind you and couldn’t help the frown that formed on your face. You did not want to deal with Marianne one-on-one but she, unfortunately, caught up with you and looped her arm through yours as if you were close friends.

“I suppose you have something to add?”

“Indeed I do,” Marianne said, her voice sterner than you were used to hearing from her, “Betray Dolos and I will kill you. I will tear you apart, limb from limb, and have you begging for death at my feet. And no one, not even your precious Eris, will be able to save you.”

You ignored her comment about Eris. Eris was agreeable enough most days, but you didn’t trust him and you didn’t particularly like him. You couldn’t, not with Kallias’s warning echoing through your mind. “Tell me, do you truly love him that much?”

“There is no love between Dolos and myself. There is passion, hunger, and an understanding. There is too much at stake for anything else.” There was sadness in her eyes and for a moment you felt sorry for Marianne. You knew nothing of how she and Dolos ended up married to one another; she could have very well been forced into all of this. Still, she couldn’t be trusted, so you decided to respond as you usually would. “How romantic.”

“Your witty tongue will get you killed, lady ambassador.” There was no bite to her remark and once more you wondered how she had ended up here with Dolos.

“I’ll take my chances.” Marianne stared at you for a moment, as if considering. Everything in you said she was a threat, but she looked almost vulnerable as she nodded, let go of your arm, and took her leave. There was no retort, no snide remark. Nothing. You watched her go before continuing onward.

═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══

Eris returned three days later.

His pack of hounds howled in excitement as their master entered the dining hall. Dolos and Marianne winced at the sound but you laughed at how happy and eager they all were to be greeted by Eris. At the sound of your laughter, Eris’s attention turned solely to you and you felt the breath leave your lungs at the sight of him. His travel clothes were not much different from his preferred hunting attire, and you swallowed at how well fitted his trousers were. They showed off his thighs marvelously and you averted your attention back to the goblet in front of you to drink some more water.

“Is that a new gown?” Eris asked, taking his usual seat beside you. Indeed it was new. Selene and Viola had been insistent on dressing you in a gown that better suited the warm tones of the Autumn Court. The bodice was a sage green embroidered with golden thread that swirled into intricate designs reminiscent of a willow tree’s elegant branches. It cut just below your breasts and from there soft layers of chiffon that were a gradient of yellow to red flowed to your feet. It was comfortable and complemented your figure well enough. You looked at Eris and replied, “It is. Selene and Viola were kind enough to give it to me.”

“It suits you.” The blush that formed on your cheeks was genuine as was the slight quirk of his lips. Once more, the world seemed to halt as you stared at one another. Dolos cleared his throat and the pair of you turned your heads to look at him. There was a knowing look in his eyes and you watched as he leaned over in his seat to whisper something to his wife. You sighed; that was never good.

“Did I miss anything particularly interesting?” Eris asked as he reached forward to grab the basket of bread and took a slice for himself. You hummed as you thought over the last few days. Truthfully, life in the Autumn Court had been rather dull while he was away. Marianne had pestered you a few times, and you had managed to write a few letters. Beyond that, there was nothing exciting. You couldn’t really talk to or banter with anyone the way you did Eris. Granted the male drove you insane and always found ways to get under your skin, but sometimes it was almost fun.

“I’m sure you will be delighted to know that you took everything of interest with you when you left.” Eris arched his brow before taking a sip of his tea.

“Is that right? Do you mean to say that my brothers and my sister-in-law are not interesting enough for your tastes?”

“They are about as interesting as a sack of potatoes.” Eris chuckled at that and you found that you rather liked the sound of it. It was easy to forget, when he was soft and gentle like this, that this was the same male who looked at you like you were a pest and called you little moth. ‘Be careful of Eris Vanserra.’ You clung to those words like a lifeline and did what you could to remember that Eris, at the end of the day, was dangerous and cunning. No matter how handsome he may be and how soothing the sound of his laughter was, he was a threat.

“Ambassador,” Marianne said, bringing your attention to her, “Would you be willing to escort me on a walk this afternoon? Dolos has business in town and although Erlik and Phenex agreed to accompany me, I would like someone with at least half a brain to join us.”

Erlik and Phenex. The two Vanserra brothers you had little to no interaction with, apart from watching them argue at every meal and listening to them boast about how incredible they were. A long walk with them and Marianne sounded more like a punishment than anything else. However, you knew that you needed to stay in the good graces of everyone here as long as possible if Kallias’s plan to establish peace was going to work. Begrudgingly you replied, “Of course. I could use the fresh air.”

Everyone seemed surprised by your answer, but you just smiled as pleasantly as possible before enjoying another sip of tea. “I should go with you,” Eris said softly for only you to hear. You shook your head and assured him that you could handle his brothers and Marianne for one afternoon. He didn’t look convinced but didn’t press the matter. Part of you was almost disappointed that he dropped the matter.

═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══

The wind howled along the cliffs and you pulled your jacket closer to your body as you continued to walk beside Marianne. For whatever reason, Erlik and Phenex had been adamant about walking along the ocean, up on the cliffs that overlooked the sea. It was one of the preferred hunting spots of the Vanserras as there was a lush forest right beside the edge. You had looked at Marianne and she shrugged, uncaring one way or another. So there you both were, shivering and trying desperately to keep warm.

“What business did Dolos have in town?” You asked, hoping that Marianne would be a bit more forthcoming with information.

“Her name is Suadela,” Marianne stated, “He has business between her lithe limbs at least once a week.”

“Oh.” Marianne stopped and turned to look at you, her emerald eyes utterly void of any emotion. Her voice, however, betrayed her. “I told you, Ambassador, there is no love between me and Dolos. There never was, and there never will be.”

“But you wish there were. I can see it in the way you look at him and I hear it in your voice now.”

“What I wish for is for my husband to be High Lord.” There was an edge of finality in her tone and you knew that she was done talking about it. Why was she so determined to see Dolos become High Lord? Why wish for him to succeed when he was clearly hurting her, when she clearly wanted more from their marriage. “Tell me, what is going on between you and Eris?”

Her question surprised you and you blinked at her in confusion before answering truthfully, “Nothing. There is nothing. He is cold and cruel and closed off. Most of the time he treats me as if I am little more than a rat that worked its way into the kitchen. There is a mutual dislike and distrust between us, but that is all.”

“That is now what I’ve seen.” There was a frown on Marianne’s face and a disbelieving look in her eyes.

“Don’t be absurd, Marianne. He calls me little moth on occasion to remind me that he thinks of me as nothing more than an invasive insect.” You wanted to laugh at the look on her face and the ridiculous notion she had suggested.

“Pyrrharctia isabella. The little moth.” Marianne smiled softly and you felt confused all over again when she said, “I think I know exactly what is going on between you and Eris.”

Whereas you had been able to hold back your laughter, Marianne could not. Her laughter was surprisingly joyous and you realized you had never heard her laugh before. Not properly at least. She gave Dolos little giggles of amusement but this? This was her true self shining through and though you didn’t know what she was laughing at, her laughter was so warm and deep that you found yourself laughing with her.

“I believe I may have been mistaken about you, Marianne,” you said as the pair of you caught your breath. She gave you an inquisitive look as if she was eager to ask what you meant, but then her eyes narrowed and she snapped her head towards the woods. “What is it?”

“Ambassador, when was the last time you saw Erlik or Phenex?” Your eyes widened and you followed her gaze to the nearby trees. They had been with you most of your walk, but you hadn’t seen them in nearly thirty minutes. You became aware quite suddenly of the feeling of being watched. Shit.

Erlik and Phenex were hunters at their cores and you knew that somehow you and Marianne had become their prey. One look at Marianne told you she was aware of the same. Every part of you was screaming for you to run, but you knew that the hunters would have set traps which made running risky. Marianne gripped your wrist then and began to tug you along with her as she ran back toward the palace, willing to take the risk. She was calm, focused, and fast. You struggled to keep pace with her, but she kept her hold on you and made sure you didn’t fall behind. Faster, you had to run faster if you wanted a chance of escaping Erlik and Phenex.

You heard the arrow flying towards the both of you before you saw it. Instinct drove you, and you pulled Marianne out of the way with a shout of her name. The arrow missed her by mere centimeters and her emerald eyes widened in shock and fear. “Fuck. It’s ash!” she said, her voice trembling. She let out a sound of annoyance and frustration that masked the sound of the second arrow. Pain erupted through your abdomen and you nearly doubled over in agony. You tried to catch your footing as your balance started to waver and you stumbled closer to the edge of the cliff.

Marianne jumped into action, her grip on your wrist tightening as she tried to pull you away from the ledge. You twisted your hand to grab her wrist in her return and stared at her eyes, watched as the emerald green darkened in determination. Something passed between the two of you then, some unspoken understanding. She nodded her head and tugged you toward her. The third arrow sliced through the howling winds with ease straight into Marianne’s back. Those green eyes widened and her grip on you slipped. She fell forward into you and you did your best to catch her, to stabilize her. With the added weight of her, and your wobbly footing, you lost your balance once more.

“Shit, shit, shit!” you cussed as you tried desperately to stay on the cliff. The fourth arrow pierced your shoulder and you screamed in agony at the pain that flared through your veins. The force of it and the pain it had caused were enough to push you further back, to make you stumble and slip over the edge, to fall back toward the raging sea below with Marianne still in your arms.

There was a shout of your name, you were certain of it. Eris. It sounded like Eris. For some reason that you couldn’t identify, you wished at that moment that you could have seen him one more time.

The sound of the waves grew louder and you did what you could to brace yourself. The air left your body at the impact as you plummeted into the water. It was cold, too cold. If you didn’t drown, you’d freeze. You tried to swim to the surface, but with Marianne in your arms and the ash arrows in your body, it was a futile effort. The current pulled and pushed you and you knew it was only a matter of time before the waves slammed you against the rocks. In the haze, as you struggled to keep your eyes open, you could see a shadow.

Something solid and hot, almost scalding, grabbed your waist and tugged you forward. There was something soft and warm on your lips and you could feel air being forced into your lungs. The water shifted, the temperature rising, quickly turning almost boiling. It was a sharp contrast to the frigid cold and you gasped, losing the air you had just been given. The pressure to your lips returned, and then the world went black.

#eris vanserra #eris vanserra x reader #acotar series #a court of thorns and roses #eris vanserra/reader #acotar x reader #my writing #t: fanfiction #ship: eris vanserra x reader #lit: acotar series #c: eris vanserra

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