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throneofsmut · 7 months ago

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Just Breathe

Poly! Manorian x Reader || WC: 1.9k || Warnings: Smut

Summary: Things get heated between Manon and reader and Dorian joins. Based off this request.

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You were sparring with the training dummy in the training room of the Glass Castle, for hours now. And yet still you showed no sign of stopping or slowing down.

A gift and a curse from being the most powerful pure-blooded fae female in existence. Regardless if you were still in your early 20s.

Your cousin Rowan Whitethorn, the King Consort of Terrasen, trained you himself when you were a child. Only he was able to understand what it's like to have such powerful and vast magic thrumming in your veins, because he’s the same.

He knows how important it is for you to be able to control it instead of letting it control you. Rowan also trained you in weaponry and in combat, in case you couldn’t access your magic.

But, he also taught you the importance of training because of how powerful you are and the importance of not overwhelming yourself with your magic by letting it out in small bursts.

By releasing it in small bursts, you can manage it more effectively and avoid potential dangers or unintended consequences. You can still hear his deep voice now, loud and clear in your head, “It's like releasing pressure slowly from a valve to ensure everything stays under control.”

Which is what you were doing now.

Every blow you landed against the training dummy, powerful, calculated and merciless. Lethal. Had they been a real enemy. While simultaneously letting out small waves of ice-kissed wind around you and into the room.

Then you felt her—your magic always alerting you when she was near. The witch who stole half your heart. Manon Blackbeak the Queen of Witches.

And if she was here then the one who stole the other half of your heart was close by. Dorian Havilliard the King of Adarlan.

“I’ll be up soon,” you told her without stopping raining down blows on the training dummy.

“Don’t bother,” she replied. That made you stop but you still didn’t turn to face her. “It’s almost midday,” she continued, sounding closer this time and you relaxed.

You finally turned to face her and noted that she was already dressed for the day and that she was right. If the sunlight pouring in from the ajar door behind her was any proof. “Huh. . . I guess I lost track of time.” Again, you didn’t have to add, seeing as this happens more often than not.

“Hmm.” Manon hummed, taking a couple more steps closer before stopping in the middle of the room and taking off her tunic, in the training ring. Her gold eyes never leave your chest watching as it rises and falls steadily while you try to catch your breath.

Her gaze darkening when she takes in the fact that your white shirt is practically see through from sweat. You can’t help but smirk, “See something you like?”

She shakes her head, smirking back. “Step into the ring. If you want to keep training, I’ll train with you.” Gold eyes flick down to your hands in a pointed glance. “Unless you want to keep bleeding?” Looking down at your hands, you realize that your knuckles are bruised, cut and bloody.

Brows furrowing as you look over your shoulder at the training dummy; all the hay that once filled it is on the floor, the fabric in tatters and the wood is splintered from where you kept hitting it. “All right, witchling, do your worst.” You challenge as you prowl onto the fighting mat.

“With pleasure, faeling.” She grins as she settles into a fighting stance. You mirror her actions and the second you nod at her, she lunges.

The both of you go back forth for a while trying to pin the other to no avail. “Come on, sweetheart,” you run your tongue on your lips tauntingly, “are you tired already?” You bait her and she takes it, lunging, giving you the opening you need to pin her to the mat.

Your hips settle directly atop of hers, your hands wrapping around her wrists, keeping them and her pinned to the mat. You lean forward using your weight as leverage so she can’t buck you off. She lifts her head as best she can, her eyes flicking to your lips, “Why don’t you just kiss me already?”

You know she’s trying to bait you, eyes flicking from her gold ones to her lips and to her heaving chest. “I’ll kiss you if you can pin me.” Her eyes narrow at your words but she smiles—a smile only reserved for you and Dorian.

Manon tries to buck you off again but you hold firm, chuckling as she struggles, your lips parting to speak but before you can get a word out your magic alerts you of his presence. Dorian. Unconsciously your head turns, to find him looking at you and Manon with amusement.

Giving the witch Queen the opportunity to flip you both so you’re pinned beneath her. She flashes you a wicked smirk, her own eyes glinting and then she’s kissing you. Your lips parting in a moan that she swallows before letting out a moan of her own as you deepen the kiss.

The both of you pull away at the same time, panting softly when you hear his deep sensual voice, “Done already?” You both open your mouths to respond when invisible hands rove over and in between your bodies, earning breathy whines from you. “Tired?” he questions.

Manon grinds against you, both of you letting out soft moans at the feeling and from the way Dorian’s using his magic on you. An invisible hand roving over both of your tits, palming and squeezing before sliding up, and wrapping around your throat—squeezing.

Through half lidded eyes you see Manon arch her back and tilt her head back, proving she feels the same thing. “Can you keep going. . . yes or no?” Dorian asks again, his voice low with desire and commanding.

“Yes.” You both breathe and the hands wrapped around your throats squeezes harder.

“Good girls,” the King praises. Your head turns towards him when you hear sure and steady footfalls getting closer. He flashes you a lazy grin, vibrant blue eyes flickering over both of your forms before he tuts, shaking his head. “Both of you are wearing too much clothes.”

His fingers make quick work of removing his own clothes while his magic makes quick work of removing both of yours. “Come here,” he murmurs to the both of you as he stands in the middle of the mat. You both move to stand before him and then he commands you to lay down.

Once your back is flat against the mat he kneels between your legs and leans over you to kiss you, once. Hungrily—a warning of what’s to come. Then he’s commanding Manon. “Sit on her face, witchling.” Dorian’s lips wrapping around your clit the same time Manon straddles your face.

You part her folds that were glistening with arousal with a pointed tongue, flicking it against her clit while Dorian sucked yours harshly. “Oh, gods!” Manon cried out as her hips bucked but you clamped your hands around her thighs, keeping her in place.

Her hips jerking everytime you moaned against her sensitive bundle of nerves from your princeling sucking and swirling his tongue over your clit while fucking you with long deft fingers. The both of you, writhing and moaning messes while nearly falling over the edge.

Then he curled them inside you, hitting the spot that sent you over the edge everytime and you came with a lewd moan that sent Manon over the edge with you while you sucked her clit. She was still trembling when she rolled off of you.

Dorian was still working you through your orgasm with his fingers when he sat on his knees between your legs. Invisible fingers pinching and rolling your hardened nipples, others gripping your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze as you come undone beneath his touch.

You could still hear Manon cry out from pleasure and you had no doubt invisible hands were bringing her pleasure in waves. One orgasm blending into two and two to three.

Dorian was the image of pure male satisfaction as he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them clean. His free hand rubbing the head of his cock against your folds, making your hips jerk and then he pushed in inch by inch. Stretching you out. Kissing you, your neck, swirling his tongue over your nipples as you adjusted to him.

You rolled your hips letting him know he could move and his ring adorned hand wrapped around your throat, “Careful, faeling. I’m fucking you right now. Not the other way around.” You whined at his words as his hips snapped at a brutal pace.

“F-fuck. . . oh!” you rasped out. “You feel so good!”

He threw his head back in a groan at the praise. But then, his head snapped towards the door, hips never faltering. And that’s when you heard it, heavy footsteps walking by at the end of the corridor. Probably one of the royal guards. Maybe Chaol.

Your back arching as you let out a sharp moan at the thought of being heard, being caught with your lovers.

Dorian squeezed harder, “You want them to see you getting fucked? Hmm?” He slapped one of your tits earning another moan. “You want them to see you getting treated like the pretty slut that you are, my little faeling.” You nodded desperately and he chuckled darkly, “then take it.”

His large hands moved to grip your hips and you greedily gulped down air, as he pounded into you mercilessly. He leaned back on his haunches slightly changing the angle and your walls clenched around his cock in response.

You felt pressure building at the base of your spine and knew you were going to dissolve into pleasure again. Your legs instinctively wrapped around him and his hips began to stutter.

He wrapped a ring adorned hand around your throat again, squeezing until you saw stars and then he leaned down. His warm breath tickling your sensitive pointed ear, “Just breathe,” he taunted then he let go. His words, the last thing you heard as you fell over the edge.

Moments later you felt his cock twitch inside you and then he was spilling himself into you. Hips jerking as he worked both of you through your orgasm.

You felt him kiss you and then your forehead and then he pulled out.

Through your heart pounding in your ears you heard Manon crying out for him and it was all you could do to open your eyes and look at them. Manon was on her hands and knees and Dorian was behind her.

Fucking her mercilessly.

The only noises you could hear were obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin, Manon’s breathy moans and Dorian’s low raspy groans. Your body was still trembling when Manon wrapped a pale hand around your ankle and pulled you towards her, so your cunt was right in front of her face.

Still panting from your orgasm when she gave you a feral grin, “Just breathe, sweetheart.” She teased you with the same nickname you had taunted her with earlier and started eating you out.

You screamed out as your body jolted from the overstimulation but that only spurred her on. Your back arching as she moaned against your clit. You could already feel another orgasm building and from the way they were both moaning and groaning you knew they were too.

And not even a minute later all three of you came at the same time. Each other’s names on your lips in a plea or prayer you couldn’t tell.

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throneofsapphics · 3 months ago

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Manorian or rowaelin whichever couple you want x reader

Reader ghosts everyone because she’s depressed and doesn’t know how to communicate with her loved ones about it 🫠

a despair so dark light will not reach

Rowaelin x f!Reader

Summary: Rowan and Aelin notice you slipping away from them, and struggle to figuring out how to bring you back

Warnings: depression, negative self talk

Word Count: 1306

A/N: thank you for the request!

“I’m fine,” you insisted, turning back to your book. It was interesting, it was different, it wasn’t this, it wasn’t reality. In between these pages, you could escape to another universe where your problems and realities didn’t exist.

Aelin sighed, she’d been attempting to get you to talk about what ‘was happening.’ There was nothing. It was nothing. You are nothing, a voice, eerily like your own, said in the back of your mind.

That’s the truth of the matter, wasn’t it? You didn’t matter. Nothing fucking did. How would you explain that to the two people who love you more than anything else in the world? How the weight on your chest felt so heavy you couldn’t breathe but at the same time you existed in a state of nothingness where not even the brightest light could reach? You’d battled it since childhood, and although you hadn’t lost yet, there was still so much you missed every day. It doesn’t matter, you reminded yourself, I don’t care.

“Please,” Aelin caught your attention with a gentle hand on your knee. Eyes blinking back into focus, she was ... Aelin was pleading on her knees with you, her hands squeezing each of your knees. “Tell me where you go when you do that. Let me in.”

When you do what? Space out, you supposed. Pressing your lips tightly together, you debated. The hope in Aelin’s eyes at your pause broke part of you. You couldn’t do it to someone you loved, couldn’t let them in and get a taste of that all consuming despair that threatened to invade and poison all of your surroundings. Just on your own, you felt like the last block of a crumbling barricade against the rushing tide. Eventually, it would overflow but for now you’d do your best to hold it back.

“Let us in,” Rowan knelt behind her, his own arm reaching over to brush against your shoulder. “Please,” he repeated her word.

You turned your head away, “I said it’s nothing,” the phrasing had a tad more bite than you intended. They didn’t deserve to be saddled with your inconsequential issues, no matter how much they asked for it. You could handle it on your own, you’d been handling it for years.

Are you really, thought? The voice said.

“Then come to breakfast with us. I’ll make sure your favorites are there,” Aelin tried, her voice shaking slightly. You thought you heard her tears. You didn’t look. Couldn’t look.

“Alright,” you whispered, a soft agreement, knowing you had to give them something or they wouldn’t leave you to your own devices.

“Alright,” Aelin breathed as if it was a sacred vow, and you hated the relief in her voice.

It started with the small things. It always did. One missed dinner, nobody remarked on it. Two missed dinners, nobody batted an eye. Three, inquiries about your absence. Four, someone went to look for you.

Aelin found you sleeping, decided not to disturb you, and made excuses for your absence, that you were ill, not feeling well, overworked.

It went on like this for months, them making excuses for why you never showed up to meals anymore.

You never needed an excuse for work, no you were high functioning, and always took care to show up to any mandatory obligations that could have negative professional consequences.

You thought you had it under control. Really, you were spiraling so far down into a dark place it would take the hottest sun to drag you out of it.

The next morning, you couldn’t get off the couch. They didn’t ‘wake’ you - you were a master at faking sleep - when they snuck past to go to training, maybe they should have. That invisible weight pushed you back two inches for each inch you moved forward, and eventually you gave up. When they came to get you, you feigned sleep.

It was impossible to hide your insomnia from them, and you knew they wouldn’t interrupt what precious sleep you could get. Often they’d wake to find you asleep in strange places throughout the room, despite starting out in the bed with them.

That afternoon, Rowan brought a healer.

“Just figure out what’s wrong,” he said.

‘Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.’ the word echoed like a horrible melody in your mind.

The healer took your vitals, asked how often you ate, exercised, went outside, how your mood was, if you felt depressed, and a thousand other questions you answered in a monotone voice.

Maybe you should’ve been honest, but you didn’t want to worry anyone unnecessarily and with Rowan hovering in the corner, you felt you couldn’t really tell them.

“Your Highness, could you please step out of the room?” The healer asked pleasantly, patting you on the knee. She was older, you could tell even with the Fae’s gift of eternal youth. Slight lines showed in her forehead and around the corners of her eyes. Signs of a happy life.

Rowan, begrudgingly, left after you mouthed it was fine.

“Now dearie,” for some reason her voice was soothing rather than irritating, usually you didn’t like names like that, “you can answer my questions honestly. Anything you say won’t go back to them, it’ll stay right between us and we’ll figure it out together.”

You looked at her, really looked at her and studied her expression. Unwavering. She didn’t flinch at your unabashed stare, didn’t turn away, didn’t so much as twitch. Like she’d been doing this and dealing with these types of situations for centuries. It gave you some hope.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Here’s a start, perhaps there’s nothing wrong with you, just different,” her eyes lightened slightly. Perhaps she felt the weight of an order from her King. Or she genuinely wanted to help you. You didn’t know which thought was you and which was the darkness living inside of you.

The conversation felt like a steady push and pull, a battle of wills between you and the healer. At the end, the two of you came up with a plan. One small change. Get outside at least once a day, no matter the time of day or if it was just strolling onto your balcony.

The healer, Elka, was trained as a mind healer too. You felt slightly tricked when she revealed that at the end.

The people who loved you most thought you were insane. But you supposed the normal healers hadn’t turned up anything and you couldn’t blame them for trying, it was something you would do after all.

Despite your high hopes after the first session, progress was slow and you felt yourself almost worsening.

You learned how to portray to the world that you felt alright, but in private ...

The last thing you wanted was to wake them, especially when they had busy and important things to do in the morning. In other words, the last thing you wanted was to burden them. You made your way to the old rooms you used back when you first moved into the castle, and shook the dust off one of the pillows.

Sliding under the soft slightly stagnant comforter, you curled on your side and hugged your knees to your chest.

For the first time in months, the true weight of your self-imposed isolation crashed down on you and you tasted the salt of a tear hitting your upper lip.

You were woken before six in the morning to a slightly angry Fae storming into your room.

“This is where I draw the line,” he pulled back the comforter and shifted you into his arms, bridal style. “You can sleep in our fucking bathtub if you can fall asleep there,” he pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss to your forehead, “but I’ll be damned if you sleep in another room again.”

general taglist: @rowaelinsdaughter @bookishbroadwaybish @nestaismommy @erencvlt @panther-girl-124

throne of glass taglist: @i-am-a-lost-girl16

#poły!rowaelin x y/n #poły!rowaelin x reader #rowaelin x y/n #rowaelin x reader #rowan whitethorn x reader #aelin galathynius x reader #rowan whitethorn x y/n #aelin galathynius x y/n #aelin x reader #aelin x y/n #throne of glass imagine

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jade0716 · 8 months ago

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Manon and Dorian are Mates: A Thesis

Now that we have more info on mates from CC, and with the speculation that the novel after the next acotar is a TOG one, I wanted to make a master post with all the evidence that I compiled that Manon and Dorian are mates. I even added dissenting opinions for the potential ones that could have other explanations because why not be thorough and impartial. AND I highlighted the ones in red that I felt like are absolutely evidence of mateness.

Here's hoping Sarah was dropping hints for a manorian spin off!!

TOG:

I. Pg. 8 “On his black doublet, an emblazoned gold rendering a wyvern occupied the entirety of the chest. His red cloak fell gracefully around him and his throne”.

the Adarlan colors being red (and gold) and the symbol being a Wyvern. This may be coincidence since in the beginning SJM was planning a Celeana/Dorian end game but I think SJM chose to make the Crochan capes red to parallel the first time we see Dorian in TOG . Manon then bonding with Abraxos who is a wyvern is the icing on the cake.).

Also keep in mind the Adarlan colors are crimson and gold. The Crochan color is red (crimsons is a shade of red) and manon is canonically known for her gold eyes. She radiates Adarlan’s colors.

Bonus: Dorian’s favorite color is white re Kaltain in TOG and she has white hair and alabaster skin. Not really mate evidence but definitely soulmate evidence.

Dissenting Opinion: The red cape was just a coincidence and red feels like the obvious color for witches given it is the color of blood. And the King of Adarlan/Erawan chose to breed wyverns because it was the symbol of house Havilliard.

QoS:

I. I know that the Valg eyes are why Manon was able to scare the Valg prince away in Dorian and pull him out of the possession. What interests me is:

Pg. 420, Roland was only able to regain control for a second after speaking to Manon before the demon took back over. I’m not going to quote this cause it’s the whole scene but go reread if you want. Dorian is able to beat the demon down and essentially say screw off while talking to Manon. Is it possible Dorian was able to regain control for a longer period of time because of a bond with Manon?

Pg. 463 “step away, get away. The demon prince inside him yanked so hard he took a step. But not away. Toward the white-haired witch”. Are we sure it’s the demon that was yanking him?? Especially since he was yanked towards her instead of away from her even though the demon wanted him away???

her name continued to ring in his head even after the demon took back over:

Pg. 469 “the words soon faded, swallowed up by screaming and blood and the demon’s cold fingers running over his mind. But those eyes lingered- and that name. Manon. Manon”

Pg. 518 “he could not remember a time when the demon had not been there inside of him. And yet- Manon.”

Is this a classic SJM easter egg similar to how we thought the bargain between Rhys and Feyre was the reason for the pull between them? Could she be trying to mislead the reader?

Dissenting Opinion: Manon's valg eyes and his want to be killed is why he remembers her name. He regained control longer because Dorian is stronger willed than Rolland.

II. Pg. 463, Dorian seeing Manon for the first time: “He’d never seen anyone so beautiful”.

Sarah uses the “most beautiful person ever seen” repeatedly for her mated couples when they first meet. This could be writing style but it seems like a pattern in how she writes her mates meeting. I read ACOTAR and CC before TOG and when I read this line I was like yep they are mates seen this before.

Pg. 188 ACOTAR “standing before me was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen” - Feyre when seeing Rhysand for the first time

Pg. 536 ACOMAF “you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I thought it from the first moment I saw you on Calanmai” Rhys about seeing Feyre the first time

In ACOWAR Lucien about Elain “she was the most beautiful female he had ever seen”.

Pg. 346 HOSAB “Ruhn found himself staring at the most beautiful female he’d ever seen” Ruhn seeing Lidia the first time.

Dissenting Opinion: Manon is canonically one of the most beautiful females in the world, especially because she is a witch designed to attract men.

III. pg. 492 “She stepped closer to the prince’s horse. ‘Dorian’… Sapphire eyes snapped to hers”..he remembered his name when she said it without looking into her Valg eyes. interesting.

IV. pg. 511 “Manon couldn’t tell why that thread kept yanking, why it felt so urgent, but she pushed them hard, all the way to Rifthold”. A thread is pulling her urgently towards Rifthold to save Dorian. Using the terms thread and Manon not knowing why it feels so important is so incredibly mate for shadowing.

Pg. 184 ACOTAR “go, a voice said, tugging at me. Go see.”

Pg. 412 ACOTAR “I was pulled from sleep by something tugging at my middle, a thread deep inside”. A THREAD.

Dissenting Opinion: Sarah does multiple times in TOG reference a tug pulling her main heroines to do things so this could just be the gods/fates pulling the thread.

V. pg. 640 “Dorian didn’t know what awoke him”. Some force awakens Dorian, he then goes out to his balcony and sees Manon outside.

Similar to Feyre being pulled to Rhys, Pg. 412 ACOTAR “I was pulled from sleep by something tugging at my middle, a thread deep inside"

Pg. 640 Manon says “she didn’t know why she’d bothered to go; why she’d been curious”. Manon Blackbeak, maneating witch, for no apparent reason, decides to go check up on a human man. Need I see more?

And again, her name echoes in his head (pg. 641) “through the darkness of his memories, through the pain and despair and terror he tried to forget, a name echoed in his head”.

EOS:

I. Manon saving Dorian from the yellow legs (duh). She says her “instincts took over her” when she saw someone “taking her kill” ... then proceeds to rescue said kill.

Pg. 44: “I have no doubt the Yellowlegs will try to claim his head. Stop any one of them who dares take it.”

Pg. 84: “And when Manon had spied that Yellowlegs sentinel perched inside the tower, readying to claim this kill for herself... a century of training and instinct had barreled into Manon. All it had taken was one swipe of Wind-Cleaver as Abraxos flew by, and Iskra's sentinel was dead.” WHAT INSTINCT? THE INSTINCT TO CLAIM YOUR KILL? Cause you actually rescued him afterwards not killed him sweetheart.

Clearly it wasn’t to claim the kill for herself. So what was it? Instinct? Helping the witches? She didn’t know of Dorian’s magic at this time, so how would saving Dorian help the witches? Seems like the instinct was from something else.

Pg. 85: “Some ancient, predatory part of her awoke at the half smile. It sat up, cocking its ears toward him”. Ancient and predatory? Mates.

II. The one million times Dorian protects her even though she starts off on Erawan’s side and he has no reason to be so protective:

Pg. 87: “Manon crashed to her knees. The king was instantly at her side, studying her for a heartbeat before he roared down the stairs, “NO!””

Pg. 369: ““No.” The word ripped from Dorian’s lips before he could think. But then it came out, over and over, as the wyvern and rider sailed closer to the ship. The witch was unconscious, her body leaning to the side because she was not awake, because that was blue blood all over her. Don’t shoot; don’t shoot— Dorian was roaring the order as he hurtled for where Fenrys had drawn his longbow, a black-tipped arrow aimed at the witch’s exposed neck. His words were swallowed by the shouting of the sailors and their captain. Dorian’s magic swelled as he unsheathed Damaris— “. This lowkey makes me chuckle like what is he gonna do with Damaris against a bunch of fae warriors lol.

Pg. 395: “Dorian didn’t feel like mentioning that he’d been the one who’d jumped into the water. He’d just … acted, as Manon had acted when she’d saved him in his tower. He owed her nothing less”.

Pg. 438: “Ice danced at Dorian’s fingertips as he slid beside Manon, still chained by the bed” when the bloodhound shows up on the ship.

Pg. 574: "That hunger shifted into something icy and vicious: 'You once asked me where I stand on the line between killing to protect and killing for pleasure'. His fingers grazed the seam of the scar across her abdomen. 'I'll stand on the other side of the line when I find your grandmother". Earlier in EOS Manon asks him why he didn’t make the bloodhound suffer, that there is a line even when it comes to their enemies. Apparently not when someone harms Manon.

III. Dorian’s magic reacting every time she is in danger or threatened:

Pg. 369: “His magic felt it before he did. A sense of awareness, of warning and awakening” when she comes in injured on Abraxos.

Pg. 369: “His words were swallowed by the shouting of the sailors and their captain. Dorian’s magic swelled as he unsheathed Damaris—“

Pg. 396: “Manon’s voice was flat and cold as death. “Tell Aelin Galathynius not to bother using me for negotiations. The Blackbeak Matron will not acknowledge me, either as heir or witch, and all you will get out of it is revealing your precise location.” His magic flickered. “What happened after Rifthold?”

Pg. 438: “Ice danced at Dorian’s fingertips as he slid beside Manon, still chained by the bed” when the bloodhound shows up on the ship.

Pg. 441: “Manon froze entirely. And didn’t particularly care as the Bloodhound lunged for her throat, teeth bared. It was not flame or wind that snapped the Bloodhound’s neck. But invisible hands. The crunch echoed through the room, and Manon whirled on Dorian Havilliard. His sapphire eyes were utterly merciless.”.

Pg. 457 ““If you were me,” Aelin murmured in a tone that had Dorian’s magic rising, ice cooling his fingertips. Aedion’s hand slid to his sword. “If you were me.” His magic flickering when Aelin RAISES HER VOICE at Manon (like come on this is mates shit).

Pg. 498-499: “ "As far as I recall,” Dorian went on with a sly grin, “you two—” The attack happened so fast that Aelin didn’t sense or see it until it was over. One moment, Manon was seated at the edge of the fire, the marshes a dark sprawl behind her. The next, scales and flashing white teeth were snapping for her, erupting from the brush on the bank. And then—stillness and silence as the enormous marsh beast froze in place. Halted by invisible hands—strong ones.” The fact that Dorian was mid sentence, not paying attention, and doesn’t even move a finger to protect her.

Even Aelin comments on it, Pg. 499: “But Dorian’s magic held the beast still, frozen with no ice to be seen. The same power as the one he’d wielded against the Bloodhound. Aelin surveyed him for any tether, any gleaming thread of power, and found none. He hadn’t even lifted a hand to direct it. Interesting.” IT IS INTERESTING AELIN. I also find it interesting that Aelin says the same power he wielded against the bloodhound, which was also to protect Manon. Granted I know Aelin is observing him bc his raw magic is so different from other forms of magic, but I still think it’s interesting that Sarah had Aelin comment on how he didn’t even react or move and his magic protected her.

Dorian about his magic sensing Rowan and Aelin’s bond, pg. 131, “His magic had felt the bond between Aelin and Rowan—the bond that went deeper than blood, than their magic, and he’d assumed it was just that they were mates, and hadn’t announced it to anyone.” Obviously later we find out it was because Aelin and Rowan were mates. So his magic canonically can sense a mating bond.

Also Rowan on Pg. 357 “I wanted to chuck you off a cliff, yet I bit you before I knew what I was doing. I think my body knew, my magic knew." His magic knew when he tasted her they were mates. Similar to how Dorian's magic has been acting? Like it knows something he doesn't?

VI. Pg. 575 “Manon thought the king tasted like the sea, like a winter morning, something so foreign and yet familiar it at last dragged that moan from deep in her.” The so foreign yet so familiar is so mate coded. Especially bc...

in HOF the Wastes are described as having winter mountains and near the western sea

Pg. 71: “To take our host to reclaim the Wastes from the mortal pigs who now dwell there." A fierce, wild thrill pierced Manon's chest, sharp as a knife. Following the Matron's gaze, Manon looked to the horizon, where the mountains were still blanketed with winter.”

Pg. 68: “Manon herself had never set foot in the former Witch Kingdom, had never seen the ruins or the flat, green expanse that stretched to the western sea.”

So it makes sense that the Wastes would smell of winter morning and the sea. They also call the wastes the “Frozen Wastes”, further implying a wintery sent.

VII. Pg. 577 “ Wondered what he’d say if she told him she’d wanted to sink her teeth into his neck and find out what he tasted like”.

Rowan on Pg. 357 “I wanted to chuck you off a cliff, yet I bit you before I knew what I was doing. I think my body knew, my magic knew. And you tasted …” Rowan loosed a jagged breath. “So good…”

Manon in HOF Pg. 33: “The common, watery taste of the man, laced with violence and fear, coated her tongue, and she spat onto the wooden floorboards.”

Manon in QoS Pg. 463 “I’ve been with plenty of men. You’re all the same. Taste the same”.

Manon has not shown to be particularly interested or intrigued by the blood of men aside from just to hunt and feed until Dorian. We also have Rowan describing how good Aelin tasted when he bit her and how he thinks "his magic knew". Is her attraction to Dorian’s blood because of this similar mating bond logic?

Dissenting Opinion: She just wants to taste Dorian's blood because she's attracted to him and so his blood is more enticing to her. She does say that the blood of the men at the Ferrian Gap distracts her in HOF, so obviously she sometimes does crave man blood.

KOA:

I. Again, we see Dorian’s magic reacting to her in a way instinctually

Cyrene attacks, pg. 78 “As Manon whirled, Dorian’s magic surged, already lashing at the unforeseen foe”

Pg. 130: “Despite who walked ahead of them, behind them, Manon smiled slightly. He surprised her further by saying,"I've been tunneling into my power since they appeared. One wrong move from them, and I'll blast them into nothing." This is so touch her and you die vibes I love it. This isn’t his magic acting instinctively I just wanted to include as another instance of him being protective of her using his magic.

Pg. 227: “ “I care.” His temper rose to meet hers. And he decided to hell with it—decided to let go of that leash he’d put on himself. Let go of that restraint. “I care about more than I should. I even care about you.”

Same scene: Pg. 228: “Dorian smiled slightly, and fell asleep once more, letting his magic warm them both. When they awoke, something sharp in his chest had dulled—just a fraction…Where that edge had dulled in his chest, his magic now flowed freer. As if it, too, had been freed from those inner restraints he’d loosened slightly last night. What he’d opened up, revealed to her. A sort of freedom, that letting go."

This is right after he says he’s been trying with Vesta for days to get his eyes to change color and it hasn’t worked but one time with Manon and she warms his heart enough to let his magic go free.

Pg. 143, Dorian goes to Cyrene to learn how she shifts…

“Is that what you do to summon the change: first think of what you want to become?” “With limits. I need a clear image within my mind, or else it will not work at all.”

Followed by Pg. 286 when Dorian is trying to shift… “Who do you wish to be? “Someone worthy of my friends,” he said into the quiet night. “A king worthy of his kingdom.” For a heartbeat, snow-white hair and golden eyes flashed into his mind. “Happy,” he whispered, and wrapped a hand around Damaris’s hilt. Let go of that lingering scrap of terror. The ancient sword warmed in his hand, a friendly and swift heat. It flowed up through his fingers, his wrist. To that place within him where all those truths had dwelled, where it became warmth edged with sharpest pain. And then the world grew… He made to touch his face, but found he had no hands. Only soot-black wings. Only an ebony beak that allowed no words past it. A raven.” In this scene Dorian thinks of Manon, which makes him think of happiness and very similar to the scene where she made his magic flow before, his magic begins to flow through him and he shifts, for the second time due to Manon warming his heart, into not just a bird, but a black beaked bird. I repeat, BLACKBEAK bird. It’s safe to assume this is because he pictured Manon, and as the spider said you have to have the picture in your head when you will the shift for it to happen. The image he had in his mind was Manon. This one I honestly think is crazy and such strong evidence of mateism , especially bc it happened TWICE in this book.

Manon fighting the Matrons, pg. 474 “Dorian’s magic writhed, seeking a way out, to stop this.”

When Maeve glamours as Manon to seduce Erawan, Pg. 639: “icy rage, pure and undiluted tore through Dorian as Manon stood before the Valg king.. Dorian focused upon his breathing, on the stones beneath him, anything to keep his magic from erupting at the desire on Erawan’s face” (also important bc when she glamoured as Aelin his magic didn’t do this!!!)

II. Pg. 225 ““Which do you like the best?”… “I like the ice best,” Dorian admitted at last, realizing he’d let the silence drip on. “It was the first element that came out of me—I don’t know why.” I know why!!

HOF pg. 230 “If Manon was ice and Asterin was fire, then Sorrel was rock.”

QOS pg. 68 “Asterin had always been that way—and that wildness was exactly why Manon had chosen her as her Second a century ago. The flame to Sorrel’s stone … and to Manon’s ice.”

III. Dorian refers to Manon as his equal, pg. 536 “she would be his wife, his queen. She was already his equal, his match, his mirror in so many ways”.

SJM is very consistent about mates being equals and being mirrors of each.

Quote from Tampon in ACOTAR: “High Fae mostly marry,' he said, his golden skin flushing a bit. 'But if they’re blessed, they’ll find their mate—their equal, their match in every way.” This is almost verbatim what Dorian said about Manon. Also want to note that ACOTAR (2015) ,where the idea that mates are equals really starting being engrained in the reader, came out 3 years prior to KOA (2018). Sarah was writing the ACOTAR trilogy concurrent with the later half of TOG. So for her to have Dorian use those words to describe Manon, she had to have known what she was doing. When KOA was released there were already three acotar books out that beat this idea into our head so i can’t believe this is a coincidence. I think Sarah would notice how that phrasing sounds exactly like how she describes mates considering how important the bond is in her books.

Feyre to the Suriel: “How can I possibly be his mate?' Mates were equals- matched, at least in some ways. '

Rowan about discovering Aelin is his mate pg. 678 EOS "His equal. His friend. His lover. His Wife. His mate."

Dissenting Opinion: This is just SJM's writing style, and I’ve also noticed SJM reusing some phrases for her couples across the series *ehem* nessian and sartaq/nesryn “I wish we had time”

IV. Also in this scene Dorian talks about wanting to “claim her” as his wife/queen... Pg. 538 “the temptation that his every instinct roared to claim. Not the body, but what she had offered…” This could just be SJM writing style (fair argument), but nevertheless "his every instinct to claim" is VERY matey especially with the instinct part and because "the claiming" is a thing. Some examples:

HOF Pg. 158: “the bite so strong and claiming that she was too stunned to move”

EOS Pg. 352: “You are mine,” Rowan breathed, and she felt the claiming in her bones, her soul.

EOS Pg. 422: “A claiming, mighty and true, that she understood he so desperately needed.”

Dissenting Opinion: This is just SJM's writing style. Just because the word claim is used doesn't mean they are mates.

V. Manon screaming his name when he almost dies pg. 133 "Manon bellowed his name, and Crochan arrows fired... Manon screamed his name again, but he couldn't move... Then there were iron-tipped hands gripping his shoulders, and gold eyes glaring into his own".

This reminds me of in HOF when Manon shoots Rowan with an arrow and Aelin screams his name

Pg. 477 QoS... "Aelin's scream echoed down the Ravine" when Rowan is shot.

Pg. 655 EOS Aelin admits to Maeve she knew Rowan was her mate, "The moment the arrow when through his shoulder. Months ago"

This is also parallelled by Dorian screaming for Manon when she is in danger in EOS:

Pg. 87: “Manon crashed to her knees. The king was instantly at her side, studying her for a heartbeat before he roared down the stairs, “NO!””

Dissenting Opinion: Aelin tells Rowan she saved Manon because Asterin screamed her name the same way she screamed Rowan. So technically by this logic Asterin and Manon could be platonic mates. And maybe Manon just screams Dorian's name because she cares about him not anything to do with being mates. (Counter Argument- but then why did Dorian scream her name in EOS so aggressively when he didn’t even know her then??)

Edit:

Also want to comment on Manon being the scariest individual in the world, and yet repeatedly both Dorian and Manon comment about how he is not afraid of her. Across the SJM universes this is seen as a huge mating bond sign (“Aelin terrifies everyone, but not him [rowan]” ; Feyre not being afraid of Rhys).

ALSO want to mention that Manon had “never allowed another male atop her” during sex before Dorian. To me this is incredibly telling bc it indicates that Manon sees Dorian as an equal by allowing him to dominate her. Yes, Manon is attracted to his domineering manor, but you’re telling me never in 116 years she’s done anything but ridden a male, and Dorian walks in and she’s like yea tie me up and get on top of me… I mean I would to but you see my point. Additionally, them being incredibly attracted to each other could be a mate indicator as mates are obviously aggressively attracted to each other bc of the “animalisticness” of the mating bond.

Lastly, you’ll see above that there are lots of times where their “instincts” cause them to act or are pushing at them to act in relation to each other. Instinct is mate coded af, especially when they’ve had that instinct since they first met. It wasn’t something that grew over time they always had it.

Debunking arguments against them being mates:

I. Mates are only fae.

Manon is part fae, so she could have a mate.

E.g. Bryce is half fae half human also and mated with Hunt (who confirmed in HOFAS is the product of two angels and not fae); Lorcan is a demi fae and can have a mate (believed to be Elide who is human but unconfirmed); Aelin is demi fae prior to forging the lock and is mated with Rowan.

I also cannot find anywhere there is a rule that you must have XYZ amount of fae blood to have a fae-like mate, just have to have some fae blood. But we don't really know what percentage of Manon is fae vs Valg. Given she is half Ironteeth and half Crochan, she likely falls around that 50% fae line which is just as much fae blood as Lorcan, Bryce, Aelin, etc.

II. The Crochans believe in Mates

It’s not confirmed whether the Crochans do or don't have the traditional fae mating bonds, however we learned in CC2 it was proved that you can have a “true” mating bond as long as one person has fae blood, E.g. Bryce (half fae/human) and Hunt (Angel).

pg. 139 EOS the Crochans "... had adopted the Fae habit of selecting mates- if not a true mating bond, then in spirit".

pg. 139, EOS Manon's grandmother says about her father "But he did not love her- not with your mother as his true mate, the song of his soul". This sounds to me like her parents were believed to be a true fae mating bond not just "in spirit".

Pg. 316 HOSAB "Angels have mates. Not as.. soul-magicky as Fae, but we call life partners mates in lieu of husbands or wives". Sounds like the Angels have a mating bond "in spirit" similar to the Crochans. Except that Hunt then truly "fae mated" Bryce, and he doesn't have any fae blood.

When then find out Hunt and Bryce are "true mates"; Pg.492 HOSAB "It means that he's going ballistic in the way that only mates can when the other is threatened. It's what happened then and happened now. You're true mates- the way Fae are mates, in your bodies and souls".

III. Fae can have non fae mates.

We see Bryce/Hunt in CC that are different species and have a traditional fae mating bond.

Rhys/Feyre and Nesta/Cassian feel a pull to each other when Feyre and Nesta are human, which then clicks into place as a true mating bond.

There is also Elide/Lorcan and Gavin/Elena in TOG that are “mates” (unconfirmed since the humans never became fae). Fae queens Mab and Mora also give up immortality for their human "mates".

So it is canon that you can have inter species mates or human mates, it just may never "click" into place if they are human.

via Hunt and Bryce, we do know the bond can completely click (souls and scents merging, etc.) between "magical" species once it is accepted, but we do not have this evidence with fae and human bonds.

I also don’t believe Dorian is entirely human. But that is completely my speculation

Pg. 933 KOA " 'I am human.' It warmed in his hand... 'I am human," he repeated, to the stars now visible above the city. The sword didn't answer again. As if it knew he no longer needed it." Yes he is human but he can be other things too. Similar to Aelin's quote about being a human in a fae body below. They identify and choose their human moral side, but that does not mean there are parts of them that are not human.

Aelin KOA Pg. 723: "I am human, deep down, Faerie Queen nonsense aside. I had human parents, and their parents were human, mostly, and even with Mab's line running true... I'm a human who can turn into Fae. A human who wears a Fae body".

On par with the theme of "Be grateful for your human heart" (Rhys, ACOTAR)

Also curious as to whether he does or does not have valg blood from his father. Because he could also have fae blood (distantly) from Elena/Brannon/Mala (Valg + Fae= Witch?)

IV. The mating bond would have clicked when they fucked… I think we all know this ain’t true anymore (cough cough Nesta and Cassian). You can have sex but if you do not accept the bond it will not click.

Rowan also says on pg 396 HOF "Sometimes, mates can be together intimately before the actual bond snaps into place"

V. Wyrd/Urd/the Mother/Fate (aka Sarah) gets to decide whose mates and who isn't

The only thing Sarah has been clear about is that she can basically make anyone mates that she wants as long as one person has fae blood. And even then, there is very much a "fate like force" aka Wyrd/Urd/The Mother that is working to pull the strings of fate and make people mates.

Hellas speaks to Lorcan and Hellas's consort, the goddess Annieth, speaks to Elide. Lorcan and Elide are never confirmed mates as Elide remains human and yet there are still signs she is his mate even as a human.

Rhys's mind has able to find Feyre's when she was still human years before they met. Yes he has demati abilities but finding Feyre's mind is because they were fated to be mates.

Adias says about Hunt and Bryce mating bond HOFAS, Pg. 551 "I think that was left to higher powers. Whatever they might be".

There is no special "biological formula" proven necessary for a mating bond. To the best of our knowledge so far, the only thing we can be sure of is it happens when fate demands (and when one person has at least some fae blood). Therefore it logically makes sense why the Mother/Wyrd/Urd would manipulate fate to ensure that Dorian and Manon were mates because they needed Manon to get into the witch mirror and raise the witch forces. They needed Manon to unite with Brannon's heir to defeat Erawan and destroy the keys, whether that be Aelin or Dorian. A mating bond would ensure that.

Also Wyrd/Urd means fate/personal destiny in nors mythology —> https://www.mimisbrunnr.info/ksd-web-of-wyrd and https://norse-mythology.org/concepts/destiny-wyrd-urd/ (read these if you want to theorize about acotar)

In conclusion, I think they could be mates but it won't fully snap into place (they won't fully merge souls, scents, etc.) unless Dorian is somehow Made. The only evidence of interspecies true confirmed fae mating bonds is Bryce and Hunt, and while they were able to fully "click" without Hunt being fae, it is very unclear why this is other than "high powers". We do know though that human Elide was very likely Lorcan's true mate, but we were never told of any clicking between them on that fae physiological level. So it is safe to assume that for a mating bond between a human and fae it will not "click" into place unless that human is turned fae.

HOWEVER, I do think it is possible because of Dorian's raw magic, he could be a rare exception to this rule similar to Hunt. So maybe it just has not clicked because Manon and Dorian have not accepted it. Which would also make sense given the nature of their relationship through most of the series, them denying their feelings to each due to their emotional unavailability.

Dissenting Opinion: But we also don't know how the angels were created by the Asteri, so maybe Hunt is "made" and not actually an exception.

Anyway, there's my evidence. There was some more evidence that I had and then removed because even though I think it is proof of a deeper connection I didn't think it was mate related (e.g. Abraxos taking Manon to Dorian when she says take me somewhere safe, I came to the conclusion that that showed Abraxos's awareness in protecting Manon).

Here are the links to some other tumblr posts on them being mates. I did look at these when putting this together so full credit to those individuals :)

#manorian #manon x dorian #manon blackbeak #dorian havilliard #togcouples #dorian x manon #throne of glass #they are mates and I will not be silenced

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malulls · 11 months ago

Text

'tis the damn season

Manorian modern au

Inspired by 'tis the damn season, by Taylor swift

Nsfw

December 23rd

Manon slammed the trunk harder than she should have. The car shuddered beneath her, as did Elide, but her friend said nothing. She just pulled Manon's second suitcase's until she was next to her, and she was grateful for that.

The click of the car being closed was the only sound besides the wheels on the sidewalk to accompany them for a few minutes. Glennis' house was only a few meters away, but it was enough to annoy her. The nearest parking spaces were occupied, and Bronwen was an asshole who insisted on filling the garage when she had her own house to do it in. She could go fuck herself too.

Elide slowed down. The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable, but Manon knew she wanted to talk, to point out the everyday things that they hadn't discussed for a long time, ever since the distance — her fault, as well as many other things — between them began. Her friend was looking for something normal between them, and to be honest, so was Manon. But rebuilding the walls that had once come close to falling around herself, making them double in size, had taken a lot of effort. And tearing them down would take even more.

It wasn't a price she was willing to pay for just one week. Less than that if she was lucky.

Across the street, a woman Manon had never seen in the city slammed the car door. She had brown hair that hit the middle of her and was talking very fast on her cell phone. She wore a medical jacket.

Elide looked at the woman, at Manon, and looked away. Weird.

— Who’s that?

— Did you know that Yrene now runs the hospital?

Manon looked at her, surprised. The last time she was in town, Yrene Towers was finishing medical college.

— What does that have to do with her?

Elide cleared her throat. Manon almost stopped walking. Yrene was close to a subject she didn't want to hear about. Too close.

— Her name is Sorscha. She works there. She came from Fenharrow at the beginning of the year.

— Fenharrow? — Manon frowned. What was that woman doing in the tiny town where she had grown up? There were thousands of cities all over the country much closer to the frontiers, and somehow people ended up at that end of the world. — How the hell did she end up here?

Elide shrugged.

— I haven't talked to her very much. Yrene might know.

Luckily, the woman wasn't interesting enough for Manon to ask. She wasn't going to talk to Yrene. The doctor could break her face if she wanted, she didn't care. But there was more to the story. She knew Elide well enough to know when there was something on the tip of her tongue, even if the small, black—haired girl was the best liar Manon knew.

Apart from herself.

— Spit it out.

— She's been hanging out with Dorian.

Manon stopped. At least the four steps to Glennis' door were a good excuse for the reaction she shouldn't have had. With more force than necessary, she snatched her suitcase off the floor by the handle and began to climb.

— If I wanted to know who he's hanging with, I would have asked him.

Elide pulled up the second suitcase, with a little more difficulty due to her height, and examined her face. It turned out that a lifetime of being raised by her grandmother and the time in Los Angeles had honed her ability to appear indifferent over the last 23 years.

Before her friend could reply, the front door opened abruptly.

— Don't be rude to Elide. — Glennis said.

Then she pulled Manon into a tight hug that made her feel guilty for disappearing for four years. But not enough to make her regret it.

The comfort of the embrace made a lump appear in her throat. This was the grandmother who made Manon feel like she had something close to a family. The one who had taken years to find her. Who had arrived too late. It had taken her a while to put an end to the what ifs. What if her father had taken her mother with him when they moved to Rifthold? What if her grandmother had been away when her parents' accident happened. What if Asterin's mother had a better financial condition and had gotten custody of her. What if she hadn't had to grow up with that woman. Enough.

She made the questions go away and left her alone. As soon as Glennis let her go and Manon caught a glimpse of Bronwen in the doorway, she flashed her middle finger.

Her cousin just shrugged.

— Hi to you too, asshole.

Their grandmother slapped them both.

— If you start with that bullshit so soon, you can set up a ring in the street. In my house, behave yourselves. Bronwen, be nice to your cousin, you haven't seen each other for four years. — she emphasized the time. As if Manon didn't know how much the distance had hurt her. — Manon, you've been here for a too short time to have such a low level of patience.

— That's the full—time level. — she muttered.

Glennis greeted Elide and sent Bronwen to help Manon with her suitcases. She had been in the city for less than an hour and already wanted to disappear again.

Her room was just as she had left it. Incomplete, confused and a little lost. With half the things that had been hers packed, because despite the relief of no longer having to live under the same roof as her grandmother, it wasn't enough to make another place any less strange. Bronwen put down her suitcase without much care, but before she left, she stopped at the door.

— Look, we've never got on very well, but don't think I appreciate you being away for so long. Firstly because it upset Glennis, and secondly because I don't hate you. And even though I'm annoyed, I'm glad you're here.

Without giving her time to reply, her cousin left and slammed the door. She pulled off her boots and coat and sank onto the bed. She checked her cell phone before plugging it into the charger and closed the curtains to block out the afternoon sun, that was bringing a little warmth despite the winter. It reminded her too much of California for her liking.

Manon closed her eyes and covered her face with her hands. She needed to sign the inheritance papers her parents had left for her. She should have done this when she was twenty—one, but her career was starting to take off, and since then she had been stuck in a mess of documents with the person she hated most in the world.

But she had already put that off for an absurd amount of time. Besides, if she wanted to stay in L.A., she needed the money. She hadn't looked into her grandmother's rigid face for years. That was long enough to need to do it one last time in her life.

But if it had only been that, a single person to avoid, she wouldn't be swimming in stress. The problem was that she was running away from the whole city. From Glennis and Bronwen, even though they were in the same house, she would have run away from Elide if her friend hadn't seen it coming and been quicker.

And there was him.

More than anything else, she was running away from Dorian Havilliard, which included his circle of friends and, consequently, half of the city. And now the lovely girl he was seeing. Manon didn't need to know anything about this. It made no difference. Nor was it the reason she wanted to break a window. She had a list full of them, and that one wasn't on it.

She thought about picking up her cell phone again, but to hell with it. The next day was Christmas Eve. Ironically, she was happy to get away from Los Angeles for a few hours. From her agent, from the madness, from the insufferable celebrities, from the few real friends she had made, and from her obligations.

Apart from the question of documents, having no commitments, no responsibilities the next day was... freeing. It lifted a suffocating weight from her back. It was the first time in a long time that she had had time to breathe.

Manon opened her eyes. She had an infinity of unresolved issues in that place. But Los Angeles wasn't her home. And perhaps she was the one making that city a hell.

—

December 25th

The advantage of living in a small town? Gossip spreads faster than fire on dry grass. Dorian wouldn't say he was a gossiper. He just liked to keep informed about other people's lives.

The bad side? When the gossip was about him. Or something he didn't want to know about. Elide had told her boyfriend Lorcan. Who had told Rowan. Which basically meant that the whole town knew. Dorian had to give him some credit, at least he was discreet. Rifthold was too small for a journalist, which was why Aelin had agreed to move with him to the capital, after he had stayed in the country for her. But in a small city? Rowan got really excited. The conclusion was that apart from his beauty, that was the reason he was adored by half of the old ladies there.

The point was that Dorian had spent the whole of Christmas trying not to think about it. About her. Just a few streets away. When they were finishing high school, they were practically on opposite sides of town, but Dorian hadn't set foot in his father's house for a long time. Not even when he went to the city for some reason. His mother and Hollin had stopped by his house, and had even sent him a present. It was something, even if it was more because she felt obliged to than because she wanted.

Now he was sitting on the couch, alone. Thinking. Having repeated doses of existential crises, which were interrupted by Aelin knocking on the door.

— Merry Christmas. — she said, her voice muffled as the two of them hugged.

He hugged Rowan and invited them in, but Aelin refused.

— My mom's waiting. We're just here to pick up my present.

Dorian chuckled.

— You're ridiculous. — But he went to get her package in the living room. When he came back to the door, she also had a package. Both shaped like books.

— What a surprise. — Aelin mocked. — Thanks.

— Are you having your party tomorrow? — Dorian asked.

— Of course, and on New Year's Day will be at Elide's house. We're staying until the 1st this time, it's been a while since we've been able to get everyone together. Actually, I wanted to talk to you about this. Do you think she'll go? Elide must want to take her.

She didn't have to say who.

— I have no idea. We haven't spoken since the day she left.

Aelin nodded.

— I just wanted to let you know that she might be there. Good night.

He said goodbye to them. Dorian wasn't sure how the thought of meeting her made him feel. Perhaps he was still angry. After a while, he had stopped thinking about her. Not completely. Some what ifs were hard to let go.

Especially when they had come so close to being what he wanted, only for everything suddenly end like it had never existed. It had been a long time, so many things had changed and happened. And the more time passed, the more Dorian was sure he could let it go once and for all.

But it would have been good, if she had been the one.

—

December 26th

Aelin Galathynius knew how to give a party.

Dorian had to give his friend the credits. Even if, after drinking, dancing, laughing and chatting, he was standing on the balcony alone while the rest of his group of friends split up into couples. Except for Fenrys, of course. He was with some random woman in one of the mansion's many rooms. If he wasn't with more than one.

He could be as a couple if he started to make an effort, but besides the fact that Sorscha hadn't finished her shift at the hospital, the thought of meeting her was bothering him. Probably because he didn't want to be an asshole or admit that he was thinking about someone who had become a ghost years ago. Dorian shook his head before he followed that line of thought and turned to get another glass of champagne. And froze.

He had seen Elide earlier, but alone. Now... Dorian didn't know why he was so surprised. It wasn't like he hadn't known she was in town, Aelin had made sure of warning him personally that she might be there. But apparently, he hadn't prepared himself as well as he thought. She was beautiful. She always was, but somehow she'd managed to look better. Her hair was longer, past the middle of her back and in a more refined cut than the one she wore in high school. He had avoided the pictures when magazine covers and social media ads started appearing with her face, but the urge to see her sometimes was stronger.

Underneath the heavy coat she had hung up, she wore heeled boots, pants that hugged her legs so tightly it should have been a crime, and a sleeveless blouse with a neckline that could have been an attempt on his sanity. All in black. Except for the lipstick.

Guess who just got fucked?

Dorian hadn't noticed that he was holding his breath until he saw her turn her back and go to another part of the house. Then he felt a bitter taste in his throat. That was why he had given up on what he was starting with Sorscha. Because, apparently, just knowing that she was in town was enough to take ten steps back.

Giving up on something good, something that might have a future, something that could turn into a real relationship, just for seeing Manon. Four years. After four years without a word between them, after she had left, Dorian was still there. Right where she left him.

—

Manon had been at the party for exactly 48 minutes and already regretted it. Elide had spent the whole afternoon annoying her, until Glennis decided she couldn't take it anymore and helped her friend to push her out. Terrible idea.

After spending much more time washing her hands than was necessary, she decided it was enough. This was ridiculous. It was past time to get out of that place instead of hiding in a bathroom like a scared teenager. At least she had somehow managed not to bump into Dorian. Manon had only glimpsed him once and ended up on the other side of the room.

The thought of meeting him brought up so many different feelings, none of which she wanted to feel. Remorse. Shame. Longing. So much that sometimes it still hurts. Ok, that's enough.

She was going to sign the documents with her grandmother the next day. Then she might never set foot on the street again until she was on her way to an airport. Maybe she'd go back to Los Angeles sooner. Or end up in any other city, it didn't matter. Just one more day, she decided, closing the bathroom door. She'd survive one more fucking day…

Manon stopped. Just as she had at the door of Glennis's house. She froze in place when she raised her head. When she recognized his features in the low, spaced lights of the hallway. His eyes were as wide as she felt her own for half of a second before she forced her face back into its usual expression.

Dorian did the same. The shock quickly turned to an emotion she couldn't identify and didn't like.

— It's been a while, witchling.

The nickname didn't seem satisfied with just entering her ears. His voice made sure to send a series of shivers through her entire body, which made her regret wearing only her bodysuit. The heavy barrier of the jacket would cook her inside the house, but it would be very welcome now.

— I think so.

She gave up trying to get past him. She still had a whole hallway to cross to the stairs. Fucking hell.

— How's life in L. A.? I imagine it's pretty good, since you haven't set a foot here for four years.

It irritated her deeply. At any moment he, Elide and Glennis would get together to put up an outdoor in a square counting how many seconds she had spent away.

— I've never been the biggest fan of this place.

— You can see it. Has Yrene talked to you? I'm sure she wants to see you.

— I haven't talked to anyone.

From the way Dorian smiled, he was enjoying the conversation and her rudeness wasn't going to send him off any time soon. Good.

— Oh, it's an usual activity then. I thought not talking to anyone was only for special occasions, like when you go to the other side of the country.

— Glennis and Bronwen knew. And they were the only ones who needed it.

He snorted.

— You really got some nerve to say that.

Manon held back from expressing any physical reaction, like slapping him in the face.

— Incredibly, I have better things to do than debate this with you. If you had something to say to me, you could have sent a message. It's a bit late now.

— No, Manon, you could have sent a message, breaking up with me, saying you were going. You could have sent a damn goodbye emoji, anything would have been better than nothing at all.

Manon felt the heat of anger and shame spreading across her face. Thankfully the hallway was dark.

— And what do you want me to say? — she asked, gritting her teeth. She was aware that they were one step away from start shouting, but she didn't care.

— The reason? Or I don't deserve an explanation either?

— What difference does it make? Why do you even care?

Dorian opened his mouth to reply, but someone came from the stairs to the corridor where they were. He went to one of the doors, opened it and entered a room, but didn't close it, waiting for her to come in. What a pitty. Now she was free to get out of there and lock herself in her room, as she should have done all night.

That's what Manon thought, until she recognized the long brown hair in one of the dim lights in the corridor. The same one she'd seen coming out of a car in the first few minutes in Rifthold. Sorscha. She must have arrived recently, Manon hadn't seen her anywhere in the house. And if she'd been at the party earlier, Dorian probably wouldn't have been there fighting with her.

So, giving in to her ridiculous jealousy, Manon entered the room with him and closed the door behind her.

The room was almost brighter than the corridor, with moonlight coming in through the window. Dorian turned on a small lamp next to a pile of books. The bedroom reminded her of his old one when they were both teenagers, and it could have been cozy, if his expression wasn't freezing the room. She regretted going in there, continuing a fight that would bring back everything she had been struggling to forget over the last few years. His gaze emitted a cold she had never seen in Dorian. One that was too similar to her own. And one that Manon knew she was only staring at because she had caused the pain that had put it there.

Sorscha's footsteps sounded outside in the hallway, and she was afraid Dorian would say something, but they remained silent until she was down the stairs again. A slight feeling of guilt troubled her, but it passed quickly. It wasn't the worst thing she had done in her life.

— Where did we stop? — He asked.

— You were about to start a monologue.

His smile was all sarcasm and the coldness she was already starting to hate.

— That was too insensitive. Even for you. — He spat out the last word with such anger that it almost made her want to run away. Hell of jealousy that didin't let her walk away and pretend nothing had happened. — You're not going to convince me that you didn't care, so why, Manon? That's all I want to know. What I've been trying to understand for four fucking years.

She bit her lip. Hearing him say her name broke up the familiarity that the fight had brought and reminded her that they had just met. The strangeness of that reality after all the scenarios and possibilities Manon had built up in her head of what it would be like to meet him again made her dizzy.

She had lost count of how many times she had replayed again and again the scene in her mind when she couldn't sleep. When having to face him was less complicated than whatever she was going through in California.

— You knew that the only thing I'd wanted my entire life was to get out of this city.

— But I didn't know that you had no reason to stay.

A laugh without a glint of humor came out of her mouth, leaving behind a bitter taste that burned her throat. It sounded just exactly her grandmother's.

— Are you sure? Why would I stay? To spend another night with you? You decided you wanted more than a casual thing on your own, when we both knew from the start that it wouldn't be anything more than that.

A sound of pure shock and indignation came out of him.

— Is that what you invented to sleep better? We were long past that when you left.

— We had fought. — She tried to defend herself, knowing she couldn't.

— Weeks before. We'd already made up.

— And what did you want me to say? — she exploded, taking a step towards him. — Would you be happy when I told you I was moving away just when things were like you wanted?

The shouting had totally started now.

— Of course not, but at least I'd know! — he replied, taking another step closer to her. — I had to find out from your cousin that you were on the other side of the fucking country because you weren't anywhere and wouldn't answer your cell phone, without any explanation. Do you have any idea how desperate I was, thinking your grandmother had done something to you?

That was like a punch in the gut. Manon had never thought of it in that way, and the worst part was that the possibility of her grandmother hurting her was real. A million unspoken things bubbled up in her throat as silence killed the argument, but when she felt an apology appearing, she decided it was time to change the subject.

— Do you really want to fight at a crowded party? — she pointed out, casually.

Dorian remained silent for a few seconds, while he calmed his breathing.

— Do you want to try again somewhere quieter? The middle of the forest is pretty empty at this hour.

— The forest? What if I decide to sacrifice you?

He pressed his lips together to contain a smile or a grimace, she didn't know. With the direction of the conversation going in something so similar to what they used to have, it could have been either of them.

— Knowing that you have another ten witches on your back? I don't think so.

When the silence returned, she took two steps towards the door. It seemed wrong to leave like that, to be anywhere in Rifthold where he wasn't with so many unresolved things hanging between them. Manon knew that meeting him again would be bad, but she hadn't imagined that the list of possible after—effects was so long.

— When are you leaving? — he asked, as soon as she reached the exit of the room.

Manon turned to him, leaning against the door.

— As soon as I get what I need from my grandmother.

— What? — He frowned. — Are you going to see her?

— It's about inheritance. — She answered quietly. That subject was bad in every way she could imagine. — My lawyer said there was no way to avoid it.

And she had tried hard.

— But then you should have done this two years ago.

Manon shrugged.

— It wasn't time enough away.

Before she could open the door, he took a few steps towards her.

— Well, remember that before you leave, we have a fight to finish.

She huffed.

— You should give up and run while you still have the chance.

— I never ran from you, witchling.

— It would’ve been easier if you had.

The sentence hung in the air, waiting for the direction of the conversation to be decided. Dorian silently agreed to put the seriousness and the bad part of the past aside for a moment, as he opened a half-smile.

— True, but then it wouldn't be fun. And imagine how sad your life would be if you'd never slept with me?

A siren started to play in her head. Manon frowned.

— Do you really want to get into this topic?

— I'm not getting into anything. — She rolled her eyes. — I was just saying.

The problem was that when it came to them, nothing was just anything. She looked at him. The slightly longer curls, the hint of a beard that hadn't existed when he was a teenager. The memories of why she had slept with him more than once, something she never did, came flooding back. And now he was no longer on the other side of the room, let alone in the country.

— Really?

He shrugged.

— It's not like this could get any worse.

Indeed. Manon tilted her head back, eyes on his face again. Her heart immediately raced. After all, what did she intend entering in a dark room with Dorian?

If she was already in hell, hugging the devil would be nothing.

— If it's ok with you, it's ok with me, princeling.

Saying it out loud was worse. It made the terrible idea slap reality in her face. Dorian approached slowly, put his hand on her side and locked the door. He looked down at Manon, analyzing her face as she had done to him seconds ago. Her heart seemed about to burst out of her mouth. She gave him a look of "just do it". Dorian got the message.

When they kissed, her body tensed like a rope about to snap. The touch was featherlight, a taste of what she had wanted back for so long. He deepened the kiss and her breathing faltered. The sensation of kissing someone she already knew, the familiarity and yet the difference that had arisen in the years apart, turned her mind upside down. His kisses always managed to make her forget that the rest of the world existed, and it was no different this time.

They gained back the ability to move at the same time. Dorian pressed Manon's body between his and the door, and her hand went to the back of his head to pull him close. In the seconds it took them to catch their breath, they stared at each other with the same haunted expression. At least he was as stunned as she was.

This time, when they kissed agaian, he wrapped his arms around her waist, taking the opportunity to touch every inch of bare skin. Dorian ran his hands down the fabric covering her torso, looking for a zipper or button, and mumbled into her mouth when he didn't find one. Manon only murmured "body" and tilted her head back, exposing her neck. Dorian caressed her nipples over the fabric, leaving a mark in the space between her shoulder and neck. Why the hell hadn't she chosen something easier to take off?

She bit her lower lip to hold back a moan as he caressed her, her breasts heavy with lust. When his lips were on hers again, Manon rested her thigh on his hip and Dorian supported her legs so that she could pass them around his waist. Before she could think better of it, he was already carrying her to the bed. He laid Manon down and took off his jacket and shirt.

— Are we really doing this? — she asked, although she was devouring him with her eyes. She didn't mind shamelessly analyzing each muscle he had gained with time.

Dorian lay on top of her.

— When did we ever make a good decision?

Touché

— Just confirming it.

The more they kissed, the less it seemed to be enough. The sexual tension that had always existed between them was on the verge of making her lose her mind. Manon started to open the buttons and zipper of his pants while he pulled down hers. Dorian stood at the edge of the bed while he took off her boots and socks, and finally reached the opening of her bodysuit.

— Did you have to choose the most complicated clothes in the world?

She crossed her arms even though she was mentally cursing herself for the same reason thirty seconds ago.

— I'm sorry to make your life difficult, but I didn't dress with that in mind.

She raised her arms for him to pull off the last piece of clothing, taking her panties with it. But, to her surprise, he turned her around. It was better that way, actually, if they didn't have to look at each other's faces. Dorian ran his fingers up the inside of her thigh, while pushing her hair away from her neck. Manon let her head fall back onto the pillow, clutching the sheet when she remembered that there was still a party going on outside. Still, it was hard to remain silent when he slipped two fingers inside her, still leaving kisses on the back of her neck. Any rational thought left in her head vanished as he moved his fingers slowly.

It was more of a tease than anything, because he pulled away. Manon almost cursed Dorian when the waves of pleasure pushing her close to relief stopped, but he opened the drawer in the bedside table next to him and took out a packet of condoms. She frowned.

— Does Aelin have a stock of these in every room in the house?

— This room is mine.

If Dorian had a room in Aelin's house, he probably had an altar in Chaol's.

She raised her arm to support her head and turned to him.

— So you, very unpretentiously, brought me to argue in your room?

— In my defense, you could've left.

He made her grimace disappear with more kisses and this time, beyond just desire, she felt her heart ache for all the things they could have been and she had ruined. He lay on top of her and, before she could continue thinking, Dorian spread her legs and entered her in a single movement. Manon let her face fall back on the pillow below, as he brought her wrists together and held them above her head. She would have completely forgotten that they couldn't make a sound if it hadn't been for the loud music. Mainly after he wrapped his hand around one of her thighs and pulled it up, opening her wider, the change in angle made him hit the right spot.

His hard strokes became faster, and with all the filthy things he was whispering in her ear, it didn't take long for Manon to bury her face in the pillow to muffle a scream. He bit her shoulder and came seconds later, still thrusting, prolonging the feeling for them both. Slowly, Dorian pulled out of her and lay down on the other side of the bed. Even after she lifted her face, facing him, neither of them said anything, small shivers still running through their bodies.

Manon could have slept there if she'd stayed like that for a few more minutes. So she got up. She sat on the edge of the bed, trying to find her clothes. But before she could get up, he wrapped an arm around her waist.

— Leaving already, witchling?

She opened her mouth to reply, but ended up holding back a moan when he licked her neck, caressing the curve of her breast with his thumb. Not reaching where she needed, just making her want more. It was working.

She turned her face to him and he raised his head. They could have stared at each other for hours, a silent conversation that made it clear that this would happen again. But not tonight

— I want to sleep.

He chuckled quietly, and didn't insist when Manon got up. She started to get dressed, more than aware that he was on the bed without a single item of clothing, staring at her.

She stopped at the door, still with the feeling she'd had earlier that she shouldn't leave the strange bubble that the room had become, sheltered from reality and anyone besides them.

— Good night, princeling.

Manon closed the door without giving him a chance to reply and, this time, ran for the exit, without giving herself a single second to think about the last hours. She had stayed much longer than she should have at that party.

—

December 27th

Dorian was looking for the leftover of the sweets that Nesryn's father had sent in the kitchen cupboards, when someone knocked the door. He went to the living room to open the door, and the last thing he expected in the world was to see Manon on the other side. Especially after the night before.

He had spent the rest of the night and the whole day thinking about it, replaying the conversation, the fight, and everything that happened afterward on a loop in his mind. And from the way Manon was struggling to keep her face blank, she was thinking exactly the same thing.

— I'm very surprised.

— Asterin called me and asked me to pick up a box with you. Something from the truck that she needs.

When Asterin Blackbeak had sent him a message, Dorian hadn't thought that this was what she had intended. He was going to send her some stickers cursing and saying thank you later.

— I know what it is. It's in the garage.

He led the way and Manon entered, looking around to analyze the house. Dorian wondered if she liked it. She used to say that the mansion he'd grown up in was so exaggerated that it lost its beauty. He agreed, but he never knew if she really thought that, or if her dislike of the place was because of what Dorian had been through with his father.

When they arrived at the garage, he showed her the box on one of the shelves, and of course Manon tried to pick it up herself. She was far from being short, but it was enough for him to love the things that the height difference between them provided.

He leaned behind Manon to pick up the box, touching every inch of her back in the process and remembering the sensation of being inside her in that same position a few hours ago. She turned around with her arms crossed, between him and the shelf.

— You're still that shameless?

He left the box on the bench next to him and immediately forgot it existed.

— You could've let me get it.

— I didn't ask your help.

— It was as clear as the sun that you weren't going to reach that shelf.

He saw the exact moment when Manon ran out of arguments by the way her mouth tightened.

— You could've let me get out of the way then.

— Nice try, but you didn't even try to move.

— So what? You let me in.

— You came in because you wanted to. You could've waited at the door.

— You —

He ended the argument with a kiss.

She'd gone there with an objective, just as Dorian had when he'd taken her to his room at the party. Was he an idiot for still wanting Manon so badly after everything she'd done? What a pity. She wouldn't be in town for long, so it would be over as quickly as it had started.

Somehow they ended up upstairs, their clothes disappearing on the way. He pushed her against the door as soon as it was closed and knelt down, pulling her pants down with him, doing what he hadn't had time to do the night of the party.

Dorian put one of Manon's legs on his shoulder and brought his mouth to her center, closing his eyes when he tasted her after so long. The sound that came from her mouth made his cock ache, and pulled his gaze upwards. She had one hand in his hair, her head leaning back against the door, her breath panting and a blush on her cheeks. Still the most beautiful person he had ever seen.

He moved his tongue all over her again, tasting every inch of her slowly, until her body started to tremble and Manon pulled his hair to make him stand. He had a condom in his hands in seconds while she caught her breath, watching him. Dorian had felt rather than seen her gazes in the darkness of the hallway and the bedroom. Now at least he could identify what she was thinking.

He pushed her back against the wall and Manon wrapped her legs around his waist. Since they couldn't do it the day before, they kissed the moment he buried himself in her. She let her head fall on the door, looking at him with her mouth half open and her golden eyes lighten up with desire.

— I love our ability to pretend nothing happened. — he said.

Manon let out a half-smile and thrust her hips, making him move. Dorian was shared between her mouth, neck and breasts, knowing that she would curse him for the hickeys afterwards, but at the moment neither of them cared. He'd be lucky if the door didn't break after being slammed in the lock.

When they finished, they threw themselves on the bed. This time, whether it was because the position required more effort, because of the two orgasms or because she was giving up her stubbornness, Manon didn't leave immediately. She even let him play with the ends of her hair. After a long time, she turned to him. Dorian had already thought of what to say in the meantime. Suddenly, they were both in their second year of high school, in the first few months when he still had to convince her not to leave before she decided she had stayed too long.

— Are you in a hurry, witchling?

—

Manon parked outside Glennis's house, Asterin's box in the trunk. She looked at the dashboard. She had left for Dorian's house in the afternoon. It was past ten pm. She tried not to be silent when she entered the house, like a teenager sneaking back after bedtime.

The last thing she needed was Glennis or Bronwen asking where she was. Manon just wanted to get in the shower and sleep until noon, and she was happy to do that, especially after the afternoon she'd had. Somehow it was even better than at the party. This wouldn't do any good for either of them, but, stupid as it was, as long as Dorian wanted it too, she had no intention of stopping.

Maybe a few days in Rifthold wouldn't be such a nightmare after all.

—

December 28th

Manon regretted the thought less than twenty—four hours later. She hadn't been thinking when she'd driven to Dorian's house, she'd just ended up there. He opened the door and looked at her, the half—smile disappearing from his face and being replaced by concern as soon as he saw her face.

— What had she done?

At least she hadn't had to explain.

— Are you busy?

— No. — He made room for her to enter and closed the door. They stared at each other, Dorian waiting for her to say something until Manon sighed and gave in.

— She took the opportunity to throw in my face everything she hadn't been able to over the last few years. — She laughed without humor, letting her body fall against the wall. — You guess how many things she had to say to me.

— I'm sorry.

She took the courage to look at Dorian. He seemed to want to hug her, but there was no space left between them for this.

— I shouldn't have come here. — She shook her head and headed for the door, but he held her arm.

— You don't have to go if you don't want to.

Being honest with herself, Manon was afraid of what that would turn into if she didn't leave.

— Are you going to distract me, princeling?

He tugged her arm slightly, a step closer.

— Only if you don't run off after.

She lifted a shoulder. Dorian had said at the party that it couldn't get any worse. Apparently they both took it as a challenge.

Later, Manon would be lying if she said she regretted it. It was a little easier to forget problems eating pastries from Nesryn Faliq's family bakery in his huge, soft bed. Her hair was still damp from the shower Dorian had convinced her to take with him in the middle of the night. It was something they had rarely been able to do before, even though his parents didn't give a damn what he did or where he was.

— She's with Sartaq.

Manon swallowed the rest of the lemon tart.

— Really?

— Yes, but they think no one knows.

She crossed her legs, looking for a brigadeiro in the box.

— Are you going to update the gossip I missed?

He laughed.

— Yes, but I thought Elide did that.

Manon frowned as she remembered what her friend had told her.

— Elide only told me things I'm not interested in knowing.

Dorian raised his eyebrows, but she didn't elaborate. He picked up his cell phone.

— I'll open the talk with Aelin and Rowan.

She came a little closer, but he made room so that she was practically on his lap. She ignored the urge to lean her head on his shoulder, but knew that if she had been distracted, she would have done so. It was like they had continued exactly where they had stopped. Which meant things were about to go bad.

—

December 29th

Manon was wearing Dorian's shirt. He held her while they slept. Everything was so similar to how they used to be that she could have gone back in time. The peace and tranquility of a good relationship, which she had never imagined she would feel one day, was the same. Dorian woke up before her, which never happened, and he wasn't in bed. He was making breakfast when she appeared, her hair messy and wearing his clothes. That was always when she looked most beautiful.

— Good afternoon.

— I have to enjoy it while I can. — She defended herself, sitting down on one of the high stools at the kitchen island. — I can't waste half my day sleeping in Los Angeles.

He pushed a plate towards her.

— What's it like? In L.A.?

Manon stopped her toast halfway to her mouth.

— You really want to know?

He shrugged and sat down on the stool next to her. It was weird telling anyone about all of that, especially Dorian, but the conversation eventually became easy. He told her about the bookshop he'd opened with Aelin, about the new house he'd built himself, while Manon spewed venom about the celebrities she'd had the displeasure of meeting.

— But do you hate them all? Like, zero famous friends?

She nodded.

— Just my agent, Morrigan. And Lidia Cervos.

Dorian's eyes widened.

— Lidia Cervos?

— Yes. — She spoke again before he asked for a photo with Lidia or something. — It's funny, because we only met because I was going out with her current boyfriend.

His grimace was priceless.

— The one from the rock band?

She nodded.

— Yes, why?

She held back her smile when he looked away to find an excuse for his sudden mood.

— He doesn't seem to be your type.

— And what would that be?

— Black hair...

— His hair is black.

— Not shaved. Not long. No piercings, no tattoos...

— You look like a conservative lady.

He threw a grape at her.

— Blue eyes...

— His eyes are —

— Blue, Manon. Not violet or whatever that weird color is, blue. Like this. — he said, pointing to his own face.

— As convenient as your self—description is...

He interrupted her with another kiss. After stopping long enough to put the plates in the sink, Dorian put his hands on her thighs under his sweatshirt and placed Manon on the bench, his tongue caressing hers and his fingers between her legs. She smiled as he sucked another mark on her neck, making a mental note to make him jealous more often.

—

It was dark again, and Manon hadn't left his house since the day before. They were lying on the couch, Dorian on the end and she between him and the backrest, his fingers finally stroking her hair, in the way she liked it so much. The familiar touches and affection were good. Really good. But they hurted too. She lifted her eyelids and found him staring at her, a hint of sadness mixed with the blue of his eyes. When he leaned in to kiss her, she didn't pull away.

The beginning of the kiss was enough for her to see that this one was going to be different. Her heart immediately raced. It felt like it was going to explode in her chest when he ran his tongue over her lower lip, before sliding it in her mouth. No rush, no trying to hide anything, just longing and everything they hadn't said to each other.

When it was over, neither of them moved. They continued with their foreheads touching, still not wanting to know what would happen when the moment passed. But the fear soon hit her, as if someone had opened the windows and let icy wind in. It pulled Manon out and made her sit on the couch, her back to Dorian. He took a deep breath, exhaling tiredness without having to say a word.

— You can't help running away, can you?

— And you need to complicate everything. — she replied, but not even her own voice sounded convinced.

— Oh right, because everything was so simple until now.

She turned to him.

— It could be, if you could ignore this for one damn weekend.

— You trying so hard to pretend you don't feel anything isn't going to make it true.

Manon got up from the couch.

— And why should I do anything different if it's going to end in days?

He got up too.

— You tell me! Things don't have to stay like this.

— And what's going to change when I go back to L.A.? — She felt an alarm screaming in her head, but ignored it. — Give me a single reason not to leave things as they are. I don't see any.

She regretted it the moment the words left her mouth. She had already said the same thing, the same lies, years ago.

It had already been clear that there were feelings between them, but it was the first time they had talked and admitted it. Of course, she had tried to push him away, but Dorian didn't let her. That fight they managed to resolve, was one of the few times in her life that Manon had gone back on her word. At some point, she regretted it. If they had been fighting when she went to Los Angeles, a small part of things would have been easier. Now... he just shook his head.

— I'm not doing this again.

Dorian walked past her to get his sweatshirt from the kitchen. To leave, Manon realized. Immediately, despair set in. He would walk out of that door and he could go anywhere. If he didn't want to see her ever again and disappear until she was gone, he could. She remained static, watching the fragile shield they had managed to maintain crumble. Until he passed her and her body moved of its own accord.

She grabbed his arm and Dorian stopped, looking at her with pure anger and hurt on his face. Her hands were shaking. Was this how he had felt when he watched her leave, not being able to do anything?

Thorns pierced her throat. It would be hard to pull them out, but Manon wasn't going to lose him out for being a coward again.

— I couldn't say goodbye because if I had to, I wouldn't have left. — she said. And once she'd started, she couldn't stop, the words came out in a torrent. — When Asterin called to say that she had made a friend who had agreed to be my agent, I didn't give myself time to think. I just went, because if I thought about it, if I told you, I wouldn't leave, and I had to. I couldn't stay here, Dorian. But Glennis had found me, I'd met Elide, and I had you. I had accepted that I had you. How could I go so far away, leaving everything that was important behind?

Manon took a deep breath. Her chest was hurting so much it was suffocating, but she had to keep going.

— But I'd never have a chance of something like that happening again. I practically informed Glennis that I was leaving because I lived in her house. And that's the only reason I was able to go. It doesn't mean I don't regret it every fucking day.

Dorian blinked quickly and swallowed. She wasn't crying, but she knew there was pain in every line of her face.

— But what about after that? — he asked. — When you were already there, or when things started to work out? You had weeks, months, years to say something. Anything, Manon.

She shook her head, still not sure if she was breathing.

— Weeks, months, years later, I was still dying inside. I still am. The first year was... — she had to stop again as the memories came. — Impossible. I wanted to run back, but I couldn't, not with my grandmother here. I couldn't give up, I didn't want to run back and have her telling me I was the fragile little girl who deserved every slap. If I'd talked to you, if I'd had the slightest impression that you didn't hate me and would rather never see me again, I would have come back.

The words died between them and were replaced by silence. Dorian wasn't looking at her, but he hadn't moved either. Manon kept her hand firmly around his arm.

— That's my reason. — she said, hating her voice for failing.

Dorian nodded.

— Was it worth it? — he asked.

She didn't know how to answer. She asked herself that question every day. Was it worth being away from her grandmother? Yes. But to be away from everyone she loved? Never. Everything she had built up in her career? Yes. But in exchange for the hell that life in L.A. had been? Having to live every day with people who reminded her of her grandmother, always around just to find out if Manon could make it?

— I don't know. — she admitted.

Things weren't absolute, they didn't have only good and bad sides. But she would be lying if she said she didn't look back at the road not taken

Dorian finally looked at her. Manon felt her own eyes burning. The fear was visible on her face, as was the request for him not to leave. He no longer looked angry, but deeply sad, like the seventeen—year—old boy who barely looked in his father's direction. Manon hated knowing that this time, it was she who had left him like this. Wasn't that why she had resisted so much before agreeing to be with him? Apart from her selfishness, cowardice and fear when she saw that she really liked him, but because she knew she would hurt him.

— I'm sorry. — Manon finally said. He said nothing.

Dorian dropped his arm when she let it go. She was thinking that she would have to go upstairs and get her things, but he put his arms around her waist and hugged her. Manon went still. A knot tightened in her throat, and without realizing it she had hugged him back, as firmly as she could.

— I'm sorry. — she murmured.— I'm so sorry.

— I know. — His voice was low enough that she almost didn't hear it. — We'll be all right.

Two tears escaped before she could stop them, but Dorian didn't notice. They could have spent an eternity there, as long as he didn't let her go, Manon wouldn't either. Finally, when the two of them parted, they didn't say anything more, he just held out his hand. She took it.

—

December 30th

— Will you ever be less stubborn? — Dorian complained, even though he was laughing against her neck.

— The day you become less annoying.

Manon turned to him, smiling, his arm still around her waist. She had only left his house early in the morning to pick up some clothes. Glennis and Bronwen were awake and tried to tease her, but she just left the house as quickly as she came in. Manon would be back, though. She owed them a real talk, too.

They hadn't slept much after spending the whole night talking, truthfully, that time. She had told him everything, from her first months in L.A. to what had happened with her grandmother that week. Dorian rested his arm next to her head, his nose almost touching hers.

— I'm sorry, but it's my favorite activity.

— I don't think so.

She pulled Dorian into a kiss. Manon spread her legs and he laid between them. She was tired, but apparently not enough, because wetness pooled between her legs.

Her phone rang, ruining her mood immediately, and he kissed the tip of her nose before moving away to let her answer. When she saw the name on the screen, Manon froze, all the comfort of seconds ago disappearing.

— It's my agent.

She went out into the corridor.

— Mor?

— Did you do what you needed to do, sweetheart?

She sighed and leaned against the wall. Here we go.

— Yes.

— That's good. So, when are you coming back?

— When do I need to come back?

A second of silence on the other end of the line, then she let out a little scream.

— So you're your hot ex—boyfriend...

— Morrigan.

— All right, love, I get it. I can get you to stay until the 2nd, but you'll need to post something. Something about the small town, family, all that shit we know you love. Something like: "hey Instagram, I haven't forgotten about you! I just missed my family, and that's what the holidays are for, isn't it?" I think that's enough.

— Right. — Manon interrupted, before she started babbling. — Is that all you wanted to know?

— Of course, sweetie. We'll update your schedule when you get here. — She paused, and her voice lost its playful tone. — I've been with you for three years, Manon, and you've never taken a single break. You can stay there for a few more days, I'll make sure it won't do too much damage.

— Thank you. — she said sincerely.

— I love you too. Bye!

Before Manon could protest, Mor turned off. Dorian was sitting up in bed.

— Do you have to go?

— Not now. We still have a few days.

— And when you need to? How are we going to do that?

She sat on his lap and buried her face in his neck. She would miss his smell. His smiles. Perhaps even more than when she had gone for the first time.

— I don't know. My schedule is always a nightmare. I can't get back here that soon.

He wrapped his arms around her.

— How about once a year?

Manon pulled away to see his face. She had been waiting apprehensively for that moment even before they were ok.

— Is that enough?

Dorian brushed strands of hair away from her face.

— I can go to L.A. before that. If you want me there.

— I won't complain.

He leaned back against the pillows and Manon sat against him. She looked around the room, at the snow—covered forest through the window, and sank into the warmth of his embrace. She could already feel her heart breaking to leave that bed, the most comforting place she had ever known. Dorian entwined his fingers in hers.

— What if I asked you to stay?

Her heart raced. Manon hadn't considered the possibility. But could she? Would she throw it all away, would she have to throw it all away to stay there? She saw the other road again, the one that looked so much better every time she looked at it. She wasn't sure if life in L.A. was worth it. But her grandmother was still in that city.

She needed time. She needed to think. Manon turned to him.

— Then I would ask you to wait.

Dorian nodded, a serious expression on his face. But he leaned over and kissed her cheek.

— Then I'll put a plane ticket on your account, witchling.

—

New Year's Day

The Anielle Lake was crowded at that time of year. With not many other entertainment options in Rifthold, the whole town went there to watch the fireworks on New Year's Eve. Everyone was at Elide's house, which was near the lake, occupying the huge veranda while they waited for the show. They were armed with bottles of champagne and Fenrys to generate entertainment.

Aelin came out of nowhere and slung an arm around Manon's shoulders.

— I'm glad you're not too famous to talk to us. Humility is the thing I value most.

— Is it to make up for the amount you lack? — she replied.

Aelin showed her two middle fingers and turned away. She was certainly already drunk. Lysandra looked at the clock on her cell phone.

— Shut up, the countdown is going to start.

As they could hear people counting from the lake, they followed the crowd. Dorian raised his eyebrows at her when they reached "five". Manon rolled her eyes.

— How old are you?

But at midnight, she kissed him anyway.

Yrene climbed onto a chair, cell phone in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other.

— Nobody moves. We haven't had a picture together for an eternity.

Manon thought about complaining, but remembered that she needed the happy small—town picture for Instagram. Lorcan took the selfie to the protest of anyone apart from Elide, Yrene and Chaol — who only didn't protest because they were polite — because his two meters of height had to be good for something. In the end, she didn't regret taking the picture. And Mor was going to love it.

Manon wanted to drag Dorian back home and spend the last day with him, but after the panic of meeting that group passed, she realized how much she had missed them. Although she obviously wasn't ever going to admit it.

Elide suddenly hugged her.

— I'm so glad you're here.

She hugged her back.

— I'm sorry for everything. And thank you for not giving up on me.

She smiled at Manon and put her arm around hers.

— That's what friends are for. But I'll let you make it up to me when I need a favor.

She didn't have a chance to reply because, at that very moment, Fenrys, Lysandra and Aelin joined hands and jumped off the balcony ledge into the nearest mount of snow.

—

January 1st

Manon slammed the trunk hard, just for old time sake. That was enough change for a single week. She had Dorian again. She was talking properly to Elide. She'd seen Yrene (who hadn't broken her face) and all the others, and had a true conversation with Glennis and Bronwen for the first time in years. And more than anything, she was free of a weight. She would never have to see her grandmother again. And she wouldn't.

— I don't think there's anything missing.

Dorian raised his hand.

— There's me.

She rolled her eyes. He pulled her over to the car and kissed Manon. She laughed, because she suddenly felt like she was in high school again, kissing Dorian in a parking lot.

— We're too old for that, princeling.

He smiled and ran his eyes over her face. The smile diminished.

— I think you need to go, then.

Without thinking, Manon leaned in again, pressing her lips to his lightly, before pulling away. She wasn't the kind of person who could say goodbye, not decently. So she wouldn't say anything. But she didn't need to, because Dorian understood. He tightened his grip on her hand and walked away, heading for the front door. Glennis and Bronwen had said goodbye to her earlier with Elide, so the three of them let her go to his house so he could say goodbye last.

Manon got into the car, this time with the promise of something other than an empty city when she arrived at the airport. She started the car, even though she could already feel part of her heart leaving. Four years ago she hadn't looked back. This time, Manon did.

And she literally saw that road, the one she didn't take. Now she was sure of what she would find if she followed it. It leaded to Dorian, in her hometown.

————————————

Did you guys get all the folklore and evermore references?

I wish I had posted this sooner, but I had never written anything so big and 10k words is a lot to review and translate 🥲

Anyway, I hope you like it, Im 100% obsessed with this song 🤌🏼

#manorian #manon blackbeak #throne of glass #dorian havilliard #sarah j maas #dorian x manon #fanfic #christmas one shots #taylor swift #evermore #folklore

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danikamariewrites · 1 year ago

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hello. Would you write for dark Dorian and reader? Please

Once Upon a Time

Dark!Dorian x reader

A/n: Ive been a sucker for Dorian lately I cannot stop thinking about him. I’m also loving @shadowdaddies dark!Manorian series rn, definitely go check it out.

Warnings: dark!dorian, manipulation

“There you are pet. I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Dorian’s voice sent chills down your spine as you bask in the afternoon sun. The thrill he gives you after being together the last two years still brings a smile to your face. Like you’re being chased by him in your own home. You look up at him from your spot in the plush grass. The castle gardens are so beautiful this time of year, you can never resist spending your days out here when the weather finally turns.

Dorian sits next to you lightly kissing your forehead. A small blush creeps on to your cheeks as you softly respond, “Hi.” He smiles at you, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger Dorian tilts your head back a little so your eyes meet his sapphire ones. “What are you doing out here sweet girl? Shouldn’t you be wedding planning.” Your face falls. You’re not avoiding planning the most exciting day of your life. You just needed a break from how suffocating the dining room felt with all the flower samples, and napkin samples, and everything else that was carted into the palace for your approval.

“I just needed a moment to myself.” Dorian gives you a sympathetic pout before pulling you onto his lap so your back rested against his chest. “I know things like this can be stressful my love. I’m here if you want me more involved. Come find me next time and we can sit together, ok?” You nod against his strong chest, settling into his warm embrace.

It took a lot to earn Dorian’s trust just so you could come out and enjoy the gardens. While you are allowed to wander the castle on your own Dorian prefers to be with you when you find yourself outdoors. When he found you this time you could tell he was slightly panicked that you didn’t at least have a guard with you. Dorian was always afraid that you’d be taken from him or that you’d run. But you’d never do that. Dorian keeps you safe, you couldn’t imagine life without him.

“Before we go back can you tell me a story? I just want to stay out here for a bit longer.” A small chuckle leaves his full lips. “What story do you want sweet girl?” You think for a moment, “The one where you first saw me and then we met.” Dorian smiles at you as you stare up at him with this innocent doe eyes. “You got it.”

Dorian adjusts you so you’re in a more comfortable position cuddled up to him. “Once upon a time there was a girl who lived in Rifthold. She was the most beautiful girl the King of Adarlan had ever seen. He was absolutely enchanted by her. She’s so kind and sweet, how could he resist her? The king had to meet. One day he took a trip to her flower shop in the city. When they finally met he was so nervous to speak he couldn’t get a word out.

“She was just so smiley and bubbly he couldn’t interrupt her. When the king laid in bed that night all he could think of was the flower girl. Days and weeks went by where he watched the flower girl from afar. When the king finally learned her name it was all he could think of. Y/n. He kept repeating it, practicing saying it for the next time they met. Slowly but surely they fell for each other and the king couldn’t bear another day apart.

“The king watched his sweet y/n. A man walked into her shop and he ended up being belligerent and rude. The king couldn’t have that so he dealt with the man and brought his sweet y/n to the castle where she would be safe with the king forever.”

You remember that day. Gods you were terrified as you hid behind the counter and prayed for Dorian to save you. Everything had been a blur that evening and when you woke up the next morning you were in Dorian’s bed. All your stuff had been moved to the castle. You had tried to leave, something had felt wrong to you. But Dorian had insisted that you must stay until he deemed it safe for you to return home. Eventually you didn’t want to return home. You wanted to stay with Dorian and he was more than happy to have you stay with him.

You turn to straddle him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I love that story.” You say softly. Dorian brings his hands up to hold your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “And I love you sweet girl.” He softly kisses your lips then your nose. “Let’s go back inside darling. We can do wedding planning together, hmm.” “Sounds perfect.” Dorian scoops you up in his arms heading back to the dining room.

He did everything to keep you from seeing his anger at the lack of guards in the garden. Barely any were by the gates. Dorian would be having words with Chaol about that. Gods forbid you ran and he couldn’t find you.

#throne of glass #throne of glass imagine #throne of glass fanfic #throne of glass fic #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass dorian #Dorian havilliard #dorian havilliard x y/n #dorian havilliard x you #dorian havilliard x reader #dorian havilliard imagine #Dorian havilliard throne of glass #Dorian throne of glass

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darklinaforever · 1 year ago

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“Sarah J Mass continues the trend where abusive relationships are portrayed as completely acceptable.”

Um... Feysand is abusive ? Is Elriel abusive ? Nessian is abusive ? Rowaelin is abusive ? Manorian is abusive ? I... WTF ?!

Apparently, from what I know, people are saying that Feysand is abusive starting in book 4, when... no ? Yes, it sucks that Rhysand hid the pregnancy problem from Feyre, but you know what stress can do to an already stressed pregnant woman ? A miscarriage. And clearly, even if Rhysand wasn't perfect on this one, the risk and fear it provoked in him made sense. Making a mistake in a healthy relationship isn't the end of the world, especially with such a complicated situation, essentially dead end. The purpose of this plot specifically being Nesta's rescue for her relationship with Feyre. Maybe SJM didn't handle the scenario very well, but that's okay in itself. Especially since Rhysand planned to talk to Feyre about it at one point or another. He wasn't planning on hiding it from her until the birth or never telling her ! What would have really been toxic is... oh I don't know, absolutely wanting to risk having your son at the risk of Feyre's life and the baby no matter what by hiding it from her ?! (And let me have a doubt, but Rhysand's life was just as threatened as Feyre... If one dies, so does the other. No ?!) Also, it's a fantasy universe... I mean, a mistake in a couple of two immortal Fae essentially caused by the fear of the death of your partner and your baby... Uh, I think we can forgive, right ? This is nothing compared to the whole relationship Feyre had with Tamlin !

I've literally seen people say that if Feyre had died at the end of the book, it would have confirmed that Rhysand was toxic / abusif, but in what way ? I remind you that Feyre knew about it at that time and that no matter if she would have known from the start, there was no solution for Feyre's case ! It was literally a no-win situation ! Rhysand would have been abusive of what ? For getting her pregnant ? Knowing that Feyre wanted this baby and was the one who decided to have one ? Also, these people were even talking about the fact that Rhysand would probably have blamed himself for Feyre's death but believed that he had done the moral and right thing... Like WTF ? Did these people even forget that Rhysand would have died with Feyre if she was fucking dead ?! They don't even make the effort to pretend they know what they're talking about ! Seriously, the reasoning of the antis is slammed to the ground.

Rhysand essentially wanted to avoid any risk of unnecessary stress to Feyre (because once again it's fucking dangerous) in the sense that he hoped to find a solution to save her before telling her about the problem. And then, even if he didn't tell her right away after understanding that no, there was no solution, I would like to see you there telling the love of your life that she is inevitably going to die during delivery with the baby, when she was so happy and impatient to have this child and start this new chapter of your life together ?!

Oh, and apparently the protective shield was toxic... You know, that same shield, brought in with the new threat emanating from the mortal queens, Beron's schemes and fucking Koshei... (Knowing that Rhys literally said in book 2 that he would be terrified to see his soulmate pregnant while they were surrounded by enemies, and the idea of what he would be capable of doing if Feyre was expecting a child and that she was threatened or harmed. Well I don't even see how this shield thing would shock the reader or be out of character for Rhysand...) This same protective shield that Feyre accepted despite gently making fun of it with Cassian, and that Rhysand then lowered so that she could be in contact with their family members whenever they wanted and / or whenever the moment presented itself once they were able to fully master it. So basically she could still touch her family / people she wanted... (Especially since Feyre may have a shield on her, but she is not kept locked up. She is free to go out and do what she wants. At one point, Feyre even says that she should accompany Nesta, Casian and Azriel into danger, after Rhysand says the same thing, then Rhysand corrects it by saying that they should accompany them both. Not that she shouldn't go. He's not fucking controlling her !) The real toxicity would have been keeping the shield on under all circumstances despite the conversation Feyre and Cassian had about it the first time he was addressed.

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acourtofkindness · 5 months ago

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Thank you for sending in all the stories, here you can find the collection! Some of these are one-shots, some are longer stories, just click your way through them and also check out their other fics!

A Ballad of Thorns & Roses: How the High Lord of Spring told his Tale (Feylin/Tamcien)

by @positivelyruined When Tamlin, the High Lord of the Spring Court of Prythian, finds the clock counting down to his final battle with Amarantha — two things push him into action: the sudden death and bloody sacrifice of his friend Andras and the fierce vexation of his close friend Lucien. With no more time to waste, he offers shelter to the one person that he should despise the most — the girl who murdered Andras. His heart has been bleeding for a decade. Will their connection be enough to break the bond that holds the Spring Court captive, or will this burning love only spurn Tamlin’s heart? In this tale as old as time, only time will tell.

Spirit Meets the Bones (Eris x OC)

by @lucienarcheron Eris and Iris. Son of a high lord. Daughter of a fiend. An arranged marriage brought them together and beneath all the hate, the two are more alike than they’d like to be.

To Dust Or To Gold (Neris)

by @queercontrarian Eris calls in his bargain with Rhysand: he wants Nesta to join him in the Autumn Court to help him in his scheme to bring down his father.

Flame of Autumn (Eris x OC)

by @climbthemountain2020 "He quashed his hope like a bug beneath his heel. They would meet, marry, and produce a child. How hard could it possibly be to copulate and wash his hands of it? It’s not like he hadn’t regularly found release in the hundreds of years of living. This one would just be attached to him a bit more legally." Eris Vanserra is forced into a marriage with a magic-less daughter of Autumn from a strong bloodline. Despite his best efforts to remain apathetic, the universe has other plans.

A Court of Threads & Daises (Lucien x Tamlin)

by @shi-daisy Tragedy almost struck the Spring Court when Tamlin Evergreen tried to take his own life. Lucien Vanserra manages to save his former Lord, but not his power. Now that the Spring Court has a new High Lord and the horrors of war are behind them, both Tamlin and Lucien agree to help the new heir navigate court life and attempt to rebuild the broken Spring Court, along with healing themselves. They weren't expecting to fall back in love in the process.

A Court of Song and Desolation (Tamlin x Lucien)

by @achaotichuman With his Court in ruins and everyone gone, Tamlin lives amongst the broken pieces of his Court and has no intentions of changing that. Lucien, however, will not stand to leave his oldest friend alone. When Lucien takes Tamlin back to the human lands, they discover a darkness coming for Prythian. If something does not stop it, it will completely rewrite the way Faeries and humans alike live as they know it.

Of Hearts and Swords (Feysand, Nessian, Manorian, Quinlar, etc.)

by @QueenofNightmares (on ao3) 5 years have passed since Bryce Quinlan fought the Asteri—and lost. 5 years since the Horn in her back was then used to permanently open the gates between worlds. Midgard, Erilea, and Prythian are now in open war--the reunited Fae of each world working together to fight the Asteri. But much has changed in the war-ravaged years that have passed. The Crochan Witchclan fights alongside the Valkyries. Hunt Athalar has sought day and night for a way to bring Bryce back from the dead and end this war. And the beloved High Lady of the Night Court--Feyre Archeron-- left Prythian for Erilea, just after their Inner Circle was cleaved apart forever by a newcomer. As war rages on, the Asteri have found an unlikely ally in Prythian--one that might turn the fortunes of battle against the Fae. This is an alternate ending to CC3 (HOFAS) where the Asteri win. Bryce was killed in the conflict that followed and the Horn in her back was then used to permanently open the gates. It will follow each of the main character ships (Feysand, Nessian, Rowaelin, Lysaedion, Manorian, Quinlar, etc.) as well as introduce some new ones for some other beloved characters (Azriel, Fenrys). Lots of relationship angst with a happy ending.

Flame of Autumn (Eris x OC)

by @climbthemountain2020 Eris Vanserra is forced into a marriage with a magic-less daughter of Autumn from a strong bloodline. Despite his best efforts to remain apathetic, the universe has other plans.

Beyond (Helion x LoA)

by @areyoudreaminof The Lady of Autumn has agreed to come live at the Day Court, though she seems hesitant. Can Helion convince her that she belongs at his side?

#eris x oc #eris vanserra #helion x loa #feysand #nessian #quinlar #neris #feylin #tamcien #acosf #acotar

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swinglifeaway19 · 3 months ago

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Roleplay Partner Search

Hi there!

My friends call me Sammy. I've been roleplaying for roughly fifteen years, started on Quizilla ( rip ) and have been writing ever since. I work a full time job, Monday - Friday that takes up the most of my time during the week. Weekends are spent with my boyfriend and friends.Most of my roleplay responses will be weekday evenings & Sunday nights. I'm available most of the time to chitchat or headcanon if that's your jam. I love making friends with my writing partners. Communication is key.

18+ Please. Am adult. Children stay away.

Probably over Discord? Unless you have a better suggestion. PM me and we can discuss.

Doubling friendly and doubling encouraged. I always play a female oc and a character of your choosing. If you want canon ships for your side, cool. I dont mind. You have an oc that you want to pair with a canon character? Even better. Tell me everything.

Length. The longer the reply, the longer it takes for me to reply. I dont really have a length limit, I can match whatever you throw at me, but I'd rather have a shorter reply full of meaningful sentences that move the roleplay along than a long reply full of fluff, ya know?

Plot > Smut. I dont mind smut, I just need it to not be the sole focus.

Its been forever since I've made one of these so I'm probably forgetting something. If you have questions/comments/concerns, feel free to shoot me a message.

Below are fandoms I'm currently looking for. Bold is who I would like to play against. Italics are characters I'm comfortable playing ( some fandoms have a crap load of characters, if you dont see someone you want in italics, please just ask if I can play them. More often than not, it's a yes).

A Court of Thorns and Roses series - Completed( Lucien Vanserra, Eris Vanserra, Azriel) [ Azriel, Cassian, Rhysand , Eris Vanserra, Tarquin, ask for more ]

ACOTAR x Throne of Glass Crossover - I would kill to play the child of Manorian, pairing them off with Elucien child. Plot with me pleeeeeeeeease.

Stephen King's It - Novel, TV Ministries, Chapter 1 & 2 Completed. highly prefer to rp when they are adults, though we can flashback/headcanon platonic moments from when they were kids. ( Ben Hanscom, Mike Hanlon )[ Any of the Losers ]

One Piece - Live Action. Through Zouin Anime ( Roranoa Zoro. Trafalgar D Water Law. Vinsmoke Sanji )[ Any Straw Hat, Buggy, Mihawk, Shanks, theres a lot of characters so ask ]

Yu Yu Hakusho - Anime Completed. ( Kurama, Hiei, Yusuke )[ Kurama, Hiei, Yusuke, Kuwabara. Ask about anyone else but willing to try ]

Stranger Things - Caught up. ( Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Steven Harrington ) [Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Jonathan Byers, Robin Buckley, Nancy Wheeler, Jim Hopper ]

Hunger Games - Original Trilogy Novels & Movies Completed. Willing to do original plot. ( Peeta Mellark, Finnick Odair )[ Mostly anyone save for Snow ]

Teen Wolf ( Theo Raeken, Isaac Lahey, Stiles Stilinski )[ mostly anyone ]

Until Dawn ( Mike Munroe, male oc )[ anyone ]

#roleplay search #rp search #roleplay partner #help me please im bored #acotar rp #stranger things rp #until dawn rp #one piece rp

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nikethestatue · 3 months ago

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I totally agree with the artist thing and I think a large part of it is book artists used to be readers. They would make art of the books they read and loved. They would make art of the ships they loved. These days the book community is so lucrative and most of the acotar art is made by artists who haven’t read the books or only started reading once people asked for art of the characters, and once they saw how well book art does and how much money there is in it. Not trying to knock their hustle but it’s pretty obvious when an artist hasn’t read the books. And when they draw both ships, it’s obvious they aren’t really “readers.” They don’t care about the books, just about appealing to their audience. Which is fine. But I think it’s contributed to the ship war and it annoys me. And then the artists who are really invested in the ship war are a whole nother breed.

Oh yeah, absolutely. they are just given simple parameters, and they go off that--black hair guy, darker skin, girl with red hair, blue gown. That's why so much of this 'art' is so similar, and I cant tell the difference between the characters--they have no personality. The number of times I"d be scrolling and seeing a couple and being like tik-tok-tik-tok Poppy and Casteel? Azriel and Gwyn? Violent and Xaden? or some couple I don't even know but it looks exactly like the other couples in every book? could be all of the above!

remember the time when artists actually read books that they were illustrating? And you could never confuse Rowaelin with Elorcan? Or Manorian and Feysand?

Now, all of these characters and couples are totally interchangeable.

Sign of the times?

No one has any new ideas and everyone is just copying each other?

Kind of sad.

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pergaminaa · 20 days ago

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Dorian is all nice and gentle but he’s also “breathe wrong in her direction and your head will be on the ground” kind of guy and honestly I love that so much

#booklr #books and reading #throne of glass #manon blackbeak #tog #dorian havilliard #manon x dorian #manorian #he’s such a gentleman #suuuper loving and protective #he has this other side only for Manon #he just loves her so much you know #she’s all his and will not allow a soul to make her feel uncomfortable let along cause any actual harm #he changes into a whole different person #she’s safe and content with him because he literally takes care of things #I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

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acourtofquestions · 26 days ago

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A new day, and the final one (to put it dramatically cause I’m in the feels)

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 100 here I come… I’ll see you in some random spam mini posts (maybe — I’m mostly reading at this point non-stop lol) but there shall be some large posts after the Epilogue…

Mostly right now theories, thoughts, concerns😅: I’m pondering Aelin’s power; she hasn’t had it most of the series and doesn’t need it but we do have 1,000 Ironteeth + Maeve & Erawan on the way (currently my theory is she’s been storing her magic in Goldryn somehow and will be able to use it to unleash her power at an insane level… mostly because they keep mentioning the ruby looked like it’s sparking or her hands on it and it’s rare that SJM does that at this frequency without reason), plus Maeve is out of magic so she should be ready, & Dorian is fired up for his father against Erawan; maybe with Aelin combined they can do it. Or a classic Rowaelin Carranam. And I bet Essar can teach her the gifts in small ways.

I’m hoping Lys meets Falkan (my soul needs this). I need Gavriel & Aedion to makeup & get their oaths (Ren too), gotta get that LysAedion kiss (and no one better die). I need Dorian to go comfort Manon along with everyone else because they understand; Aelin, Elide… Terrasen’s children lost everyone. I need a Kingsflame bloomed and a coronation, I’d like to know who the heck killed Aelin’s parents and what does the damn owl mean! I want Aelin to meet Nox! I want Fleetfoot to meet Abraxos! I wanna know the Chaorene baby name😂 I want at least one scene of Empress Nesryn! Lady of the Ghost Leopards Lys! GIVE ME A MANORIAN “I LOVE YOU”. And wants/hopes that prob won’t happen but I’m saying it anyway: I know it probably won’t but I’d love if Elena got some sliver of peace. I want the white wolf and the wolf together, Aelin & Rhoe’s Shield + an Aedion reunion & an Evangeline/Fleetfoot/family hug, one moment of all of them together (again no one dies immediately after). AND THEY ALL DESERVE A SOFT EPILOGUE & future with long therapy filled lives! & a Rowaelin baby since they’ve both said they want a family together like that🥹

Mostly I’m worried over people dying… Sarah has proven that she will & can kill a lot of characters at once… I am in shock & grieving so… A little worried about about Dorian but I think he’ll be fine, a lot of worry about side characters: Murtaugh (for Ren), Ren (generally speaking which would suck cause I want to know him more), Kyllian (Aedion clearly loves him I don’t want to see that heartbreak), Ansel (because her people are gone and Manon is the Witch-Queen… I’d prefer an alliance, healing moment cause they both lost them all & maybe see if she’s got a thing going with Ilias cause the irony there👌😂👏). Hafiza (for Yrene; please don’t do another big sacrifice… I’ve already lost twelve today😭 the number is off… no…), oh and I’m pretty sure Darrow will die. Then the bigger ones: above all The Cadre have me concerned; Lorcan (cause him & Elide will always be running out of time), Fenrys (for Aelin or Lorcan), Gavriel (for his son). & otherwise: Aedion (he does not need to die for redemption Sarah DONT YOU DARE).

So, here we go… the first read of the ending of the books I’ve loved since February and will carry with me always… with a lil bit of sleep & the day complete with nothing but reading time: Beginning with Chapter 100: Aedion

P.S. I’ve got Crescent City; House of Earth & Blood on standby to read tonight (I need to pour my feelings in another book with the hope of maybe seeing Aelin again😭) I don’t care if it’s denial I don’t wanna know I just need it🤣

#first read #read along #read with me #read with me cry with me till the darkness… and even then… plus it’s light anyways… I’m gonna go cry now #no spoilers please #Kingdom of Ash spoilers and spam warning #Chapter 100 #fan theories #thoughts #feelings #the final chapters #here we go again #one last time #Sarah J. Maas #Kingdom of Ash #reading updates #the rest will be live and sparatic #fingers crossed for a happy ending #all I keep recalling is this: we deserve a soft epilogue my love we’re good people and we’ve suffered enough

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throneofsapphics · 10 months ago

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Hi can I request manorian x reader where she has a drinking problem and stopped but when she’s out with her friends they make her drink and it gets bad again :( manorian are frustrated, give me some angst and also then helping her

one day at a time

Manorian x Reader

Summary: “You knew they were next to you, one on each side, probably waiting for you to wake so they could talk, but the last thing you wanted was to face them. One drink, and all of your progress felt thrown out the window.”

Warnings: alcoholism, not great handling of alcoholism, minor injury/description of blood, some angst, hint of fluff

Word Count: ~3.2k

A/N: thank you for the request

“Just one,” she grinned at you.

The problem was one always led to another, on and on until you slowly stopped remembering why you didn’t drink. As she slid it towards you, across the table, you knew you were making a mistake, but kept trying to justify it to yourself.

The disappointed look on your friend's face when you turned the first two drinks down.

It’s not like you said you would never drink again. Just that you’d keep it under control.

You wouldn’t go home for a few hours, that’s plenty of time to come back sober. Like you’d said - you’d promised to come home sober.

Earlier, you’d told them you’d likely be home … but you said likely. They wouldn’t worry. Maybe. The fear of their disappointment, of them seeing you like this, overrode any common sense. You weren’t thinking clearly. If you were, you’d know they’d rather you come home drunk off your ass than not at all.

Not quite in your right mind, you decided to stay the night at a friends apartment.

One thing you forgot; the guards, waiting quietly for you in the shadows. Discreet enough you rarely saw them, at least two or three were always there, especially after the threat on your life a few months ago. The reason you’d stopped drinking in the first place. Nobody knew you had a problem.

They watched as you took drink after drink, waiting for you to leave so they could make sure you got home safe. Under orders to make sure you got to the castle, through one of the side gates, without attracting attention.

“She’s got a high tolerance,” he said under his breath, the man next to him chuckling. You twirled and danced, finally waiting until last call. They knew just how much you’d downed, but you played it off well, appearing mildly tipsy.

As you strode for the door, arm in arm with a friend - the one who’d funneled drinks to you all night, they rose to follow.

Turning onto her street, the path away from the castle, you only made it a few paces before you were intercepted.

Shit.

You’d forgotten they had people tailing you at all times. Felix, and someone behind him you vaguely recognized, his name slipping from your mind.

“Castle’s this way,” he jerked his chin, an amused smile on his lips, probably thinking you’d just made a wrong turn.

“I can’t go home like this,” the words stumbled into each other, your cheeks flushed red with alcohol, jerking your arm out of your friends.

“We have more wine at our place,” a vice-like grip curled around your upper arm. Alcohol numbed you enough you didn’t sense the pain right away. Felix had tensed, eyeing her warily. “Come on,” she coaxed, nails digging in harder, warm liquid pooling on your arm. When you didn’t move - she tugged - hard enough you let out a small cry, your shoulder straining - maybe even popping.

Everything happened quickly, you were separated from her, a third person, a woman, appeared from the shadows, a flash of metal, you were shoved behind someone. Shielded. Murmurs over the wind - words indistinct but undeniably a threat. If your arm wasn’t hurting like a bitch maybe you’d feel pity.

It was repeating again. You were too drunk to stop someone, hurting you. Last time you’d barely gotten away. Even though she was a friend, likely meaning no harm, just unaware of your own strength, the realization brought tears to your eyes, quickly hidden as your good arm threw your cloak over your face.

The guards were good. Not a single passerby sensed anything was wrong.

They stuck close to you as you headed through the back gate, half-aware of everything around you.

Declining a visit to the healers, just wanting to be with them, you made it to the end of the hall before Manon was shoving through the door, stalking towards you, Dorian behind her.

You couldn’t - wouldn’t look at them, and tried to skirt around her. She wasn’t having it, stepping to the side to block you.

Taking a breath, you prepared yourself for the lecture - for the disappointment, only for her to gently lift your arm, gold eyes peering at the spot where your friend had gripped. Blood - that was the warmth from earlier. Why Manon came out so quickly - she’d scented your blood.

“It’s fine,” you murmured quietly. She lifted it again and you winced, some of the pain catching up to you, the walk had sobered you enough. A small strain that would heal in time.

“What. Happened?” You could tell her temper was balancing on a paper thin edge.

How could you begin to explain the shit show? Thankfully Dorian started guiding you back towards the room, giving you time to think.

After you were seated on the couch, a cup of tea pressed into your hand, Dorian against your side, Manon pacing in front of the fireplace - looking murderous, he spoke.

“Who did that to you?” You raised your brows, surprised he wasn’t asking about why you were drunk. “We’ll get to that later,” he read your expression, and your head dropped.

“Who was it?” Manon hissed, murderous rage flooding from her. You’d have to convince her not to gut the guards who brought you back here.

“It was an accident.” You winced as Manon pressed a finger into the fingertip shaped bruises, silently calling your bullshit. “It wasn’t on purpose,” you tried. She didn’t look convinced.

“We’ll talk in the morning,” Dorian sighed, wrapping his arm around your waist. You’d insisted you were fine, ready. He didn’t want to stop you, even though he had a bad feeling - hence the clear orders he gave to get you back. Maybe he should’ve told them to keep you from drinking, but that felt a bit too invasive - and he’d trusted you when you said you were ready.

You were, for all he knew. There was something else missing - other answers he needed to get.

“I need you to stay here with her,” he said quietly, to Manon, as you were getting ready for bed, the bathroom door wide open. She agreed - quicker than he thought he would. He was going to get answers.

Felix, the guard who spent the most time watching you, was waiting at the end of the hall, as if he was expecting someone to come looking for answers. Dorian watched a hint of relief cross the man’s features - probably that it was him, not Manon. He couldn’t blame him, his witch was terrifying on a good day. He gave a detailed and precise report of the night’s events - down to each detail, and Dorian remembered exactly why he requested for him to guard you.

Objectively, he knew they’d done everything right - but he was still pissed you’d ended up injured, blood drawn by one of your ‘friends.’ As for the identity of the friend, he decided Manon would have to get you to tell her yourself.

“Thank you,” he said at the end, giving a polite nod as the guard bowed, taking his leave. Dorian pressed his forehead against the stone wall, letting the rough and cool surface center him. Anger would get nowhere tonight. He’d been so fucking proud of you, and the disappointment stung.

The next morning, your head was pounding. One hand shielding your eyes from the sun, an audible groan left your lips. Hungover.

Hungover. Drinking. You’d broken last night. Fuck.

The self-loathing hit a moment later. You knew they were next to you, one on each side, probably waiting for you to wake so they could talk, but the last thing you wanted was to face them. One drink, and all of your progress felt thrown out the window.

“Good morning,” Manon drawled, and you forced your eyes to blink open, your hand to move. Her expression was too neutral. An obvious sign of her holding in her anger. “Who hurt you?” She followed up.

Hurt? There was a tinge in your shoulder. Vaguely, you remembered one of your friends gripping you, her nails digging in, the wet drop of blood against your skin. “It was an accident,” you said quickly.

She pulled the sheets down, revealing the angry blue-purple bruises, small indents of fingernails, on your upper arm. Her finger traced over them, barely touching. “That is not an accident,” she hissed.

“They didn’t mean it,” you tried. Manon raised one brow. “Please, don’t hurt them.” Before breakfast, and you were already resorting to begging to keep her from murder. “I’ll promise not to see them again, if you won’t hurt them.”

Her nostrils flared. You watched her debate it, whether or not to satisfy her bloodlust and rage. Part of you was endeared by this, at her protective streak, but the other part was very, very worried about having blood and death on your hands.

“Fine,” she conceded. “How do you feel?”

The words felt like a trap, but you answered honestly. “Like shit.”

“Good.” Ouch. She ran a hand down your arm, skipping over the bruised area, and gently squeezed your hand. Tender, coming from her. “I’ll see you this afternoon.” You tried to sit up, to catch her and maybe give her a kiss or hug, but with preternatural speed, she’d already left the room.

A pathetic and small broken noise left you, and a sigh reminded you of Dorian’s presence.

“She’s just on edge.” His voice indicated he, too, was on edge.

You were still half-raised, staring at the door, when he slid closer to you. Close enough to feel his body heat, but not to touch. Self loathing and destructive thoughts filled you. Maybe they didn’t want to touch you, maybe they thought you were disgusted enough you’d be packing your bags, heading right out of the castle. Your shoulders caved, curling in on yourself, eyes squeezed to fight tears.

Dorian’s hand rested lightly on your good shoulder. “We’ll talk later.”

Then he left, and you felt your fears were confirmed.

Forcing yourself out of bed, you brushed your teeth, washed your face, scrubbed your body near raw - trying to erase any vague scent of alcohol. You had the day off work, and knew they’d both be busy. Tying a towel around yourself, you clutched the clothes from last night in one hand. Without hesitation, you threw them in the fire. The less reminders, the better.

That night, you all had a private dinner in your shared rooms.

“Why?” Dorian asked, and you could tell he was trying and failing to keep his tone neutral. That was worse - you wanted anger, maybe frustration, anything else.

“I don’t know,” you fidgeted with the ring on your middle finger, the one they’d both given you - not an engagement ring, just a physical representation of your commitment to each other. “I thought I was ready, but … I wasn’t. I gave in.”

You didn’t need to say what you gave into. It was obvious - the atmosphere, peer pressure, temptation. Glancing up, they both tried to hide it - Dorian more than Manon - but the disappointment was there and gods you hated yourself even more. Subconsciously, you began to slide the ring down your finger. Before it could reach your middle knuckle, Manon’s hand had clasped over your own.

“Don’t,” she nearly snarled, lifting just enough to slide the ring back up, before retracting her hand quickly, like she couldn’t bear to touch you longer than necessary. At least they didn’t want to leave you. Yet, a voice in your mind whispered.

Your throat bobbed as you swallowed, nodding. Any words might lead to tears. Dorian sent you a smile, but it was strained - forced. Didn’t they understand you hated yourself now? More disappointed and frustrated with yourself than they ever could be? Maybe, maybe not, but it wasn’t worth saying. Quickly gulping down the rest of your water, you excused yourself.

Finding your favorite chair in the small personal library, closest to the fire, you tried to read, but your eyes scanned the same page at least ten times. Everything would be fine. It wouldn’t happen again, and … hopefully whatever divide came between the three of you would mend.

Manon knew you were avoiding them. But, she’d always been under the impression that if someone needed help, they either had to ask or do it themselves. You’d come to them the first time, and she was waiting for you to do it again. At communal dinners, she watched how your eyes would waver towards the various bottles of wine or liquor, before averting quickly - as if they’d burn you for looking at them. Your hand would twitch if one got particularly close. Dorian had noticed too, and said nothing. Maybe that’s what you wanted? For them to pretend it never happened?

As another week passed of your distance, she grew tired over it. Fine. If you wouldn’t ask for help, she’d go to you.

Dorian would be out late, and she headed back to the rooms - knowing you’d already be settling in.

Inside, she saw something that nearly made her blood boil. A bottle of wine sat on the coffee table, a small note attached to it. You sat on the couch, arms wrapped around your knees, physically shaking - staring at it, a haunted look in your eyes.

Slowly, she stalked towards you. No glasses, the bottle wasn’t open. Getting closer, she picked the bottle up, watching you from the corner of her eyes. You kept your gaze straight ahead, switching to the wall, pointedly avoiding her. At least you weren’t fleeing the room.

Witch senses helped, and she could tell you only touched the note - not the bottle.

“We’ve been missing you, come out of hiding soon! First round is on me.”

A female, one of your former friends, signed underneath it. She walked around the couch, placing the bottle out of view, before crouching in front of you, putting herself directly in your line of sight, forcing you to look at her.

“I told them before,” your voice was just above a whisper, “that I’d stopped.”

She noticed the blue-purple bags under your eyes, the pain in your eyes.

“And they still pushed you?” Manon was fighting to keep her temper even as you nodded. “Not very good friends,” she commented. “You should’ve let me kill them.”

A choked laugh left you, and she thought that was a fairly good sign. “I don’t need blood on my hands,” the corner of your lips tilted. A smile you were fighting rather than forcing, she liked that. Manon knew you liked how protective she could be, even if it irked her you rarely ‘let’ her act on it, not that she always asked for your permission.

Still, it was about time she got to the point of this. “Do you need help?”

The smile left, your arms tightened around your knees again. One small jerk of your chin. Manon raised a brow. “Yes,” you sighed.

Years with you had taught Manon more of what human’s needed, liked, and granted these things grew on her as well. She wrapped an arm around your shoulders, chuckling at how you quickly unwrapped and hugged her midsection instead, leaning your head into the space between her chest and shoulder. Before you and Dorian, she never thought she would’ve missed physical touch this much. But, as you not-so-discreetly moved close enough you were nearly on her lap, she realized she didn’t want to go another two weeks without this kind of closeness.

Dorian spotted the bottle of wine tucked away on the kitchen counter first, his eyes widening in alarm. A closer look told him it was still closed, and a note was tied around it. The contents of said note pissed him off. That’s the last thing you need right now. Gazing over his shoulder, he saw Manon shooting him a warning glance. A keep fucking quiet, if he read it correctly. You were there too, curled up around her.

How long had it been since he spotted the two of you like this? Too damn long. But … Manon had probably been with you for a few hours by now, he could justify interrupting. It was only fair to share.

Striding across the room, lips curving into a wicked grin, Manon’s golden eyes narrowing into a glare, he sat heavier than necessary next to the two of you, one hand brushing over your knee.

Your pretty eyes blinked open, small bags lining them. Had you not been sleeping well? He hated that he didn’t notice it before now.

“Hello love,” he ran his hand up and down your thigh, in calm and soothing strokes.

“Hello,” you murmured back.

“Tired?”

“No,” you yawned, covering your mouth.

“Mhm,” he slid one arm under your knees, the other behind your shoulders, ignoring Manon’s snarl and carted you off towards bed.

Manon stood in the doorway, silver hair gleaming, arms crossed. “I have a few reports to read,” she said gruffly.

“Can’t you do that here?” He could tell you were trying to keep the whine from your voice. Manon’s eyes softened briefly.

“The two of you are too distracting,” she spun on her heel, closing the door softly behind them, not giving either of you the chance for a snarky reply.

“I can’t get you to myself for a while?” He teased. You blushed, and his fingers trailed over the heated areas as they turned a brighter shade of pink.

“Of course you can,” you mumbled, hand running over the back of your neck. You wanted to talk - maybe not wanted, but needed. Dorian needed it as well, even if it was the last thing he wanted to do right now. “Are you mad at me?” You asked.

Honestly, he reminded himself, and took in a steady breath. “I was at first,” he said cautiously. Resignation showed on your face, along with a glimmer of hope. He’d said at first. Wording was important, and he still treaded carefully. “But, I haven’t been in your … situation, so I can’t say I understand - or what I would have done.” He didn’t recognize the emotion that flashed in your eyes, but it didn’t look negative, so he continued. “I want to help you,” he gripped both of your hands, pressing a kiss to the ring he’d given you last year. “If you’ll let me.”

Tears started to glimmer, lining your eyes. Maybe you’d wanted help this time, but been scared to ask for it, or were ashamed, or - Dorian reminded himself not to make assumptions.

“I’d like your help,” you said quietly, blinking. His thumb brushed away the tears, and your head tilted. “Did you and Manon coordinate this?”

It was his turn to blink. “No,” he shook his head. A pleased expression crossed your face. Apparently that’s what the two of you had spoken of earlier. “Did she ask if you wanted help?” A nod confirmed it. Subconsciously, his lips quirked up at the corners. Figures they'd both ask on the same day, and that Manon would beat him to it. "We'll take it one day at a time," he assured you.

"Thank you," you tried, unsuccessfully, to stifle another yawn and he figured now’s a good time to table the discussion.

“We can talk more tomorrow.”

You looked relieved, and nearly dragged him into bed.

#manorian x reader #poly!manorian x reader #manorian x y/n #manon blackbeak x reader #dorian havilliard x reader #throne of glass fic #manon blackbeak x y/n #dorian havilliard x y/n #poly!manorian x y/n #throne of glass imagine #throne of glass x reader

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