Aurora • 22 • She/Her • Bisexual This blog is filled with shitty fanfiction and even shittier memes. You have been warned. I only simp for Manon Blackbeak Hope you're proud of me now mom
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Dain and Sloane are on a Mission and Sloane is pestering Dain about getting a cat or two in the future when they win the war and live in their cute little house (YOU HEAR THAT REBECCA)
and Dain is like: "Hell no, cats are cute but not in the house." and he would drop a comment like "Your hair is already enough 😗"
Sloane is like: Bitch, I will get my cats
AND THEN... they somehow find her.
Sloane is immediately in pspsps mood
Dain is mentally rolling his eyes and in the same time smiling at the scene.
Long story short, they end up keeping the cat, and Sloane teases Dain, firstly because she won, and second:
this is amazing and needs to be a full-length fanfic
dain is the type of guy to be like «we are absolutely not getting a cat-» then cut to a few weeks later, he’s like «hey babe, i got this really expensive, organic, premium cat food at the store today! only the best for our little princess🙂↕️»
Dain learns that his signet can also be used to show other people his own memories when Sloane finds out about him getting slapped at Zihnal’s island. She follows him wherever he goes, begging him to at least try and show her, until he finally relents. When he does, and it actually works, she laughs so hard she falls off the chair she’s sitting on.
Sloane also shamelessly uses it against him from then on. If she’s feeling sad about something, for instance, she’ll go «You know what would cheer me up?🥺🤚» And Dain, willing to do whatever it takes to make his girl smile again, just sighs, putting his hand to her cheek to show her again🥰
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Summary: Sloane is plagued by nightmares of her signet. Luckily, Dain is there to comfort her.
«I killed your mother. I tracked her down and hauled her to her own execution, remember?»
The words echo in her mind, over and over again, as Sloane feels the vast power surge through her, like liquid fire in her veins.
She’s looking down at the general, who’s kneeling on the ground, her skin getting paler and paler as Sloane drains the life from her.
She is death.
She is destruction.
Sloane knows she should stop, that she’s killing her, but she doesn’t know how. Not when she’s just manifested her signet, not with the overwhelming power rushing through her and into the wardstone.
«I killed your mother.»
The words fuel the anger that’s always lingering beneath her skin, and a small part of her wants this. Wants revenge. As if in answer, the flow of power billows, and it feels good. Never again will she be weak, never again-
«Don’t do it! Sloane, that’s my mother!»
Violet’s cries bring her back, makes her realize what she’s doing. She’s draining her, killing her, like a venin.
Sloane shifts her gaze back to the general, watching as the light leaves her eyes, but then the features of the dying general in front of her changes, and suddenly she’s looking into a pair of warm, brown eyes she has gotten lost in too many times to count.
«No,» she chokes out, horrified, because it’s not the general she’s draining anymore. It’s Dain.
His power is even wilder, even harder to tame, and no matter how hard she tries, she can’t make it stop. «NO,» she screams then. «Please, make it stop. PLEASE!»
Tears are running down her cheeks, and she’s shaking, but she can’t remove her hands. Not from him, not from the wardstone.
Dain looks up at her, a soft smile on his lips, his skin so pale. «It’s okay,» he whispers, voice weak, and Sloane lets out a sob. «It’s okay, love.»
Then the world around her shifts once more, and she’s standing in an empty chamber. Sloane turns around, and there’s a mirror behind there. She thinks she hears someone calling her name in the distance, but it’s already forgotten as she feels the pull towards the mirror. Walking closer and closer, she can slowly make out her own features.
Her skin, so pale it’s almost white. Her eyes, glowing red. Red, like the veins spiderwebbing across her face.
She screams, falling as she tries to get away from the mirror, to get away from what she’s become.
She is a killer.
She is death.
She is-
«SLOANE! WAKE UP!»
-
She sits up with a start, gasping for breath, but she can’t get enough air into her lungs. The world around her is dark, and she struggles to remember where she is in her panic.
A hand carefully touches her back, and she flinches away from it. It’s not safe. She’ll drain them.
«You’re safe,» a familiar voice tells her, but she can’t place it. Not when she can’t fucking breathe-
«It’s the wingleader. He’s back.» These words are spoken in her mind, surprisingly gentle. Thoirt, she remembers. And next to her…Dain.
A choked sob leaves her as Sloane is transported back to the wardstone chamber, to where she’d just felt him die because of her.
«You need to breathe, Sloane. Open your eyes.» The command, gentle but unyielding, barely manages to get through the cacophony of fear and panic and guilt in her mind, but she obeys.
Sloane opens her eyes to find Dain sitting right in front of her, the room now illuminated by the soft glow of a mage light. He’s close, but making a point not to touch her. «Good, now breathe with me.»
The breaths are shallow at first, more like choked gasps, but Dain remains calm as he keeps speaking to her in that soft tone, his deep, brown eyes like a safe harbor.
She has no idea how long they sit like that, but Dain must see it - the moment it feels like she’s finally in control again - because he gives her a slight smile, saying «There you are.»
And just like that, Sloane practically throws herself into his arms, craving the comfort and safety they give her. Especially after he’s been away on a mission for the past three days.
She starts crying again, from relief or from exhaustion, she doesn’t know.
Dain holds her close as she clings to him, pressing kisses to her hair, his hands going up and down her back in long, soothing strokes. And he keeps repeating, like a mantra, «You’re safe. It was just a nightmare. I’ve got you.»
Sloane wants to tell him that it’s not concern for her own safety that keeps her up at night, but she’s not sure she’s capable of speaking right now, so she stays silent, until her tears have dried, until her eyes grow heavy once more.
Leaving the familiar embrace of his arms feels physically painful, but she forces herself to, settling down on her pillow once more. Dain follows, so they’re lying face to face.
Then, she finally takes in the sight of him. His usually neatly trimmed beard is a little rougher, evidence of the days spent on a dragon’s back, and it makes him look even more handsome, Sloane thinks.
A pang of guilt hits her as she notes the shadows under his eyes. He probably hadn’t gotten much rest on the mission, and he must have gotten back late, since she’d gone to bed alone well after midnight-
«I will not hear you complain about my fussing ever again,» Thoirt interrupts. Sloane chooses to ignore it.
She looks away, keeping her eyes locked on where she’s now holding his hand, unable to meet his gaze as she finally speaks, «I’m sorry if I woke you up.» Her voice is hoarse. Raw.
«It’s okay,» he murmurs. They’re both quiet, for a moment, but when Sloane finally looks up at him again, she sees the worry on his face. «I’d barely fallen asleep when you started screaming. I tried waking you, but nothing worked. I think Thoirt was the one who finally managed to reach you.»
«He’s right,» her dragon tells her.
«I’m sorry,» Sloane repeats, and she sees that Dain is about to protest, a frown on his face, so she continues, trying to reassure him, «They’re usually not bad enough to make me scream…I think.»
As soon as the words leave her, the frown deepens.
«What, you thought admitting you’re plagued by these nightmares every night would calm him?» Thoirt huffs, and while Sloane would normally just give her the mental image of her favorite finger in answer, now all she feels is gratitude for the bit of normalcy. For Thoirt pretending that her rider is not currently falling apart.
«Is it the same every night?» Dain asks her, and Sloane looks away as she gives him a barely-there nod.
It isn’t always him she’s draining. Sometimes it’s Imogen, or Bodhi, or even Liam, but after Draithus, after everything that has evolved between them since, it is him more often than not.
And these past days, when he was away…It has been hard to find rest again, when she didn’t have the reassurance of his steady, beating heart lulling her back to sleep, his strong arms around her, reminding her that he was safe.
Sloane is exhausted, and she knows Dain sees it too, as he caresses her face, caresses the dark circles under her eyes. A tear slips out at the overwhelming love she feels, and he brushes it away.
«Do you want to talk about it?»
She’s about to shake her head no, but Thoirt interrupts her: «You should, Little Fire. Perhaps that’s what you need for them to stop? You don’t have to bear every burden on your own.»
The words sting, bringing a fresh wave of tears to her eyes that Sloane quickly tries to blink away. After a moment, Thoirt adds, every hint of compassion gone: «And I would like a good nights sleep, for once.»
Sloane answers with a mental eye roll. «Gods forbid I’d think you’re going soft on me or something.»
«Tell him.»
Dain is still patiently waiting for her answer when she’s done arguing with Thoirt, his gaze holding no judgement. Sloane swallows audibly. «I can’t-» she starts, because she doesn’t think she’ll ever find the words or the courage.
He sighs, not because he’s disappointed - Sloane knows he would never be disappointed in her for this - but because he understands how difficult it is. What little he has been able to share of his own demons is proof of that.
Sloane wishes she could spend her nightmares draining his father instead. For that, she would feel no remorse. Only satisfaction.
The thought of hurting Dain’s father gives her a little courage - and yes, she makes a mental note to consider what that says about her as a person, considering the nightmare she just had, if she is ever well-rested again - so she brings Dain’s hand to her cheek, holding it there.
She doesn’t have to tell him. She can show him.
It takes a few moments for him to realize what she is asking him to do, and when he does, his eyes widen. He tries to pull his hand away, but Sloane holds it there, a newfound determination written all over her face.
Dain shakes his head. «Sloane, I promised you I would never-»
«You promised you would never take my memories. It’s not the same if I’m giving them to you.»
«Sloane-» he rasps, choking on her name.
«I know, Dain,» she whispers back. «But I trust you.»
There is no part of her she wouldn’t let him see, she realizes. Not when he has seen the angry, broken mess she used to be - still is, frankly - without shying away. It’s one of the things she loves the most about him. How he can ground her without stifling her fire. How he always remains calm, steady, strong, when she feels like there’s a storm ravaging inside her.
His gaze softens, and he brushes his thumb over her cheek once, twice. «Okay,» he says, nodding. «I’ll do it, but please, tell me to stop if-»
«I trust you,» Sloane repeats, pressing a kiss to his palm.
Then he closes his eyes, sucks in a sharp breath, and begins to wield.
Sloane watches him as he reads her memory of the nightmare, his body growing tenser and tenser. She feels tears well in her eyes anew, but she let’s them fall, afraid to move, afraid to breathe.
Because she thinks he’ll never judge her, but what if he now realizes what kind of monster she is?
After what feels like an eternity, Dain opens his eyes again, and Sloane tries to keep in the sob building in her throat, but she fails, as she sees the pain, the sorrow, the love, in those eyes, now glassy from unshed tears of his own.
«Sloane, love…»
Dain pulls her in, holding her tight, and once more, she’s sobbing into his chest.
And then he says something that truly breaks her: «Her using your mother against you and making you feel angry as you were siphoning from her, doesn’t mean you killed her. She knew it would cost her her life, and she chose to do it anyway.»
Because that’s what has really been tearing at her, isn’t it? That a small part of her had enjoyed it, had enjoyed making the general feel the pain that Sloane had felt as she’d been forced to witness her mother being burned alive, as they’d taken her father, too, his only crime being married to her mother, as she’d received a letter telling her Liam was dead, mere days before she was supposed to finally be reunited with him.
She cries harder, but this time, it feels like a release.
«Sloane, will you look at me?» Dain asks after a moment, and Sloane lifts her head from where it’s buried in his chest. He brushes away a few tears, then he presses a kiss to her temple, and she revels in the light scratch from his beard. «I meant what I said that day. You are life, not death.»
The words pull her back to that moment on the battlefield, when she had used her signet not for destruction, but for healing. If Dain hadn’t been there…
«I don’t want to leave you,» she blurts out, suddenly reminded of what’s ahead. Because how can she, when he’s the only person who can bring her back from that dangerous edge, who can keep her from drowing?
In just a few days, she’ll have to fly back to Basgiath to begin her second year at fucking murder college, and Dain, having just graduated, is staying here, in Aretia, on official orders from the Duchess.
They have already lost three of the few days they would have together, all because of that stupid mission to try and find a cure for someone dumb enough to turn themselves venin and-
«I would normally tell you to calm down, Hellcat, but it’s good to see you back to your usual spirits.»
«I thought my temper was why you chose me?» Sloane retorts, raising a mental eyebrow.
Something that resembles a snore - if dragons are even capable of that - is her only answer.
«And you call me dramatic?»
Dain sighs, «I don’t want you to leave either, but you’ll still have rotations in Aretia, and you’re much stronger than you give yourself credit for.»
«I could barely handle three days,» Sloane tries to argue.
«We’ll figure something out,» Dain says, sounding so sure it eases some of her worry. «You have letter privileges now, so we can stay in touch. And if things get too bad, if you keep having nightmares like these, I’ll pull some strings, get Brennan to make up some bullshit excuse about how his expertise is needed to train your signet or something.»
Brennan has never spoken about his connection to Tairn’s former rider, the last known Siphon, before her, but Sloane suspects they had been close.
Involving Brennan would mean revealing her and Dain’s…whatever they were, though, something they had agreed not to do, for now.
Sloane, because while she has come to terms with the role Dain had played in Liam’s death a long time ago, and forgiven him, other Marked One’s had not, and she is not yet ready to deal with that. And Dain, because word travels fast in a place like Basgiath, and he fears what his father might do if he learns of how much his son cares for the daughter of a traitor.
When they’d had that conversation, when he had suggested that his father could hurt Sloane to punish Dain, she had naturally responded with an «I’d like to see him try,» but Dain hadn’t budged.
And now, she’ll be at Basgiath all alone, while he goes off on Gods know how many suicide missions and-
Sensing her spiraling, Dain says with a teasing lilt: «Or I could pull a Riorson and become a professor.»
Sloane lets out a small chuckle, feeling a little lighter. She loves how he always does that; brings her back when she’s on the verge of succumbing to everything that’s haunting her.
She loves him.
«Too bad it’s against the Codex to-,» Sloane starts, but Dain interrupts her before she can finish her sentence.
«Fuck the Codex!»
And just like that, every trace of the lingering nightmare leaves her. Probably because all the blood that’s supposed to be in her head rushes right to her core at his words.
She stills in his arms, suddenly aching to be even closer to him, to feel him, to taste him. «Say that again,» she demands, slowly lifting her eyes to meet his dark gaze, her hunger no doubt written on her face.
Dain smiles, shaking his head as he pulls her closer. «Tomorrow,» he promises with a kiss on her forehead. «We both need sleep.»
The last thing Sloane remembers, before she falls into a dreamless sleep, is Thoirt.
«Never again will you be alone. Remember that, Little Fire.»
A/N: I did not think I would ever write something from the Fourth Wing universe, and definitely not heavily featuring Dain "Eyes here" Aetos, but Slain has had me in a chokehold since January
I've had this idea in my head for a while, and then I suddenly had a lab report to write for uni, so naturally I wrote this instead:):)
Feel free to leave comments or slide into my askbox
hiii!!! i miss your content so muchh, was wondering if ur gonna keep on going with queen of peace or not? 💗💗
hiii<3
First of all, thank you so much!! It means the world to me that there are people out there actively remembering but also missing something I've written<3<3<3<3
As for your question, I have promised to finish it someday, but I have no clue whether that day is within a few months or a few years.... I'm currently studying full time while also working part time as a TA, so as much as I want to spend time reading and writing fiction, there isn't much room for that in my life right now, unfortunately:(
The next chapter does have a beginning, tho, so who knows? Maybe I will update soon, maybe I won't. But I will finish that fic, even if I have to do it from a nursing home in 70 years.
So here it is. All my favorite Nesta and Feyre centric fanfics<3
I couldn't whisper when you needed it shouted, ah, but I'm singing like a bird 'bout it now by freehunter: Nesta and Feyre years after acosf events, in the middle of a battlefield. (This one is my absolute favorite❤️🩹)
Books and Wings by Popjunkie42 : Feyre visits Nesta in the House of Wind library for a book recommendation. Post-ACOSF. Pure fluff.
Sirens in the Beat of Your Heart by Popjunkie42: Nesta works to continue to tear down her walls, and work on a new relationship with her younger sister, when Feyre comes to the House of Wind seeking help. Post-ACOSF sister bonding.❤️🩹
"Nessa?" by Dawninlatin : Nesta telling a story about how Feyre terrorize her at night, when they were little❤️🩹
In Unity and Victory by bisexualsharks: A retelling of that one scene in ACOWAR when That Thing happens to Rhys, except this time sprinkle in a little more sisters content. (Fix-it sorta fic)
Sisters by climbingmountains: A Sister Sleepover fic (ft. Elain)❤️🩹
Contours & Constellations by Insanity_is_Catching: The Archeron sisters discuss their human bodies and what they miss about them. (ft. Elain)
Not a Lot, Just Forever (intertwined sewn together) by paradisangel: In which Nesta and Feyre actually talk and Nesta actually lets herself feel emotions. Post-ACOSF.
How Paper Is Made by Asnowfern: Nesta found out Feyre was illiterate and decided to teach her. Kinda fix-it and pre-canon.
Literacy by orphan_account: What if Nesta taught Feyre how to read instead of Rhysand? Kinda fix-it and pre-canon.
Strained but Entertwined by orphan_account: Feyre and Nesta bump into each other in the middle of the night after having nightmares. Bonding and fluff ensues.❤️🩹
A Little Complication Between Sisters by VivereLibri: A take on if Nesta was a little more concerned about Feyre during ACOMAF.
Big Sister Nes by Firestarhk: Three-year-old Nesta Archeron is not impressed with her family’s newest addition. (This is so cute🥹)
Cycles of Life by BookWorm77071: Little Feyre gets her period and is scared, big sister Nesta's here to the rescue<3
what it is like by xelly: Instead of making nesta go to their solstice party, feyre visits her in her apartment.❤️🩹
Friendly reminder that Dorian Havilliard pushed aside a valg prince possessing him just so that he can have a few seconds to rizz up the hot witch that showed up
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the only reason why ten year old girls are destroying stupidly overpriced products at sephora to make “skincare smoothies” is because they aren’t being given access to a yard with a variety of mud, sticks, rocks, puddles, and old ceramic planters to make potions in. the children yearn for the apothecary
Summary: Manon Blackbeak is flawless, untouchable. From the outside at least. Her grandmother pushes her to achieve greatness, and she doesn’t let anyone get too close in fear of being hurt. How can anyone love her when not even her parents could?
Dorian Havilliard has always felt safe and confident around his friends. He might not have the greatest of families, but with Aelin and Chaol by his side, nothing can go wrong. That is until he tries keeping his greatest secret from them.
What will happen when Dorian and Manon gets to know one another? Can two lost souls find their way back together?
I dreamt last night of a sign that read «The End of Love»
-Florence + The Machine, The End of Love
Dorian was normally against the concept of Sundays. Aside from being the most boring day of the week, Sundays always made him feel weirdly sad and anxious. Another weekend was coming to an end, and he hadn’t enjoyed it to the fullest, and then there was Monday, getting nearer and nearer, looming over him with all its responsibilities and assignments.
This Sunday, though, could last forever, and Dorian wouldn’t mind at all.
He was cuddled up in bed, watching some trashy reality show. That in itself wasn’t unusual for him, but what made this Sunday so different was the fact that Manon was cuddled up with him, currently leaning against his chest and laughing from the show she «could watch for his sake but would need to bleach her eyes, ears and brain after being exposed to».
It was well past noon, but neither cared to get up just yet. They’d left the party at Aelin’s at an ungodly hour, after all, making it back to Dorian’s and sneaking in as quietly as possible to avoid waking his mother and brother.
«I wish this weekend could last forever,» Manon sighed after a while, twisting in his arms until they were face to face.
She looked breathtaking in that moment, Dorian thought, with her swollen lips and tousled hair, her golden eyes bright. Images from last night flashed through Dorian’s mind, and he felt himself harden at the memory of how her bare skin had felt against his.
Manon must have felt it too, judging by the way she now smirked and shifted a little, so that she was fully straddling him. Dorian let out a groan at the sudden friction, his cock going from half-hard to ready and aching in a matter of moments, and his hands moved to grip Manon’s hips, guiding her against him in a rhythm that had them both panting.
«We could just never leave my room? School can go fuck itself, for all I care» Dorian suggested with a shrug. Manon’s answering chuckle was quickly interrupted as Dorian brought his lips to hers in a hungry kiss, a gasp escaping her she tasted him.
«Sounds like a great idea,» Manon managed to get out between kisses, still grinding against his hard cock. Dorian let a hand drift under the t-shirt she was wearing, his t-shirt, and moved it upwards, until he found one of her breasts. He brushed a finger against her peaked nipple, and Manon let out a low moan at the sensation.
Manon sat up, hands moving to lift the t-shirt over her head, and gods, the day Dorian died, he wanted this to be the last image he saw; Manon, sitting astride him, arms lifted and glorious tits on display, face flushed and moon-white hair falling down her back.
Sundays might not be so bad after all.
-
It was already dark outside, by the time Manon left Dorian’s, having spent all day cuddled up in bed, alternating between sleeping, mindlessly watching TV and exploring each other’s bodies.
She’d even met Dorian’s mother, Georgina, which had been a surprisingly pleasant experience. They’d had to venture into the kitchen to get something to eat eventually, and Dorian had been sure they were home alone, from how quiet it was, but the moment they’d stepped out of his room, the front door had opened, his mother and brother back from wherever they’d been.
Dorian had assured her, earlier, that if they ran into his mom, she wouldn’t mind, but Manon still felt mortified as she stood there, hand-in-hand with Dorian, her cheeks bright red. She’d been wearing his shirt, for fuck’s sake! They might as well have had a blinking sign over their heads saying «We’ve spent all night having sex!»
Luckily, Dorian’s mother had been nice enough to not make any teasing comments (at least not while Manon was there, but she’d gotten a text from Dorian exactly one minute after she’d left, begging her to come back and save him).
Instead, she’d pulled a blushing, mortified Manon into a warm hug, telling her how nice it was to finally meet this «friend» Dorian kept talking about.
She’d been even more delighted when Dorian, just as blushing, had stammered out a «she’s my girlfriend, actually». The conversation had ended with Dorian’s mother insisting she come over for dinner some day, and Manon surprising herself by finding she actually wanted to.
All in all, it might have been the most embarrassing experience of her life, but it had also been kinda nice. It helped that Dorian was absolutely adorable when flustered.
As she walked home,Manon tried to think of the last time she’d had this lazy of a Sunday, and quickly found that she couldn’t. It didn’t fill her with panic and restless energy, though, like it normally would have. A weekend like this was exactly what she’d needed, after a long, stressful week. Especially when next week would be just as bad, with her grandmother coming back and all.
Merely thinking about it was enough to ruin Manon’s good mood. She’d be back to constantly walking on eggshells, constantly keeping her mask on, constantly lying to keep her grandmother pleased.
Only a few more months, Manon reminded herself. Then she’d be free.
Gods, if her grandmother had known what she’d been up to for the past day-
Manon smiled to herself as she thought back to last night, already looking forward to the next time she’d be home alone, but then she turned down her own street, her house becoming visible, and the smile quickly disappeared, along with any joy she felt, dread taking it’s place instead.
The lights were on.
Could her grandmother have come home early? Manon’s heart raced at the possibility, especially when she had no idea of knowing how early.
As she got closer and closer, she tried to rationalize, tried to keep the panic at bay.
She could have forgotten to turn the lights off yesterday? But Manon knew that wasn’t the case. She never forgot.
Some small part of her hoped that Asterin had come back, and she pictured walking into the house, her cousin greeting her, asking her what she’d been up to, as if nothing had happened. They would make dinner together, like they’d used to, and when Asterin suggested they watch a movie together, Manon would finally say yes, forgetting her homework for once.
It was that delusional hope that drove her forward, kept the fear from consuming her, even if she deep down knew the truth already.
Because as she entered the house, as she stepped into the living room, it wasn’t Asterin greeting her.
Manon forced herself to look her grandmother in the eye, to seem as unbothered and unafraid as possible, as the elder woman demanded, «Where have you been? It’s late.»
«Just dancing, I forgot the time,» Manon hastily replied, the lie easily slipping off her tongue. It had become so rehearsed lately she didn’t even have to think, and she begged whatever higher power might listen that it would work this time as well.
But Manon realized, before her grandmother had even spoken, that it wouldn’t, from the way her grandmother’s eyes darkened.
«You’ve been dancing since last night?»
Shit.
This was the moment she’d been waiting for. Dreading.
Manon swallowed audibly, trying to come up with a good answer, something to get her out of this mess. «I-»
«Don’t even try lying to me, you ungrateful brat!»
Her heart was racing, and she was sure it would burst out of her chest at any moment, but all she could do was stand there and take the verbal beating that was sure to come. There was no way she could lie her way out of this, no plausible reason for why she’d been away all night.
«The moment I go out of town, you start acting like an irresponsible slut, is that it? You are nothing but a disappointment! I expected you to do better, be better, but then you go and whore yourself just like your mother and that pathetic cousin of yours, throwing away everything I have done for you!»
«I’m sorry,» Manon whispered, eyes locked on her feet as she wished for the ground to open and swallow her whole. The familiar feel of shame and panic filled her, like all the other times she’d stood before her grandmother like this. Frozen. Powerless. And this time, there was no way out of it.
Manon thought of the countless times she’d been in this exact position, apologizing for whatever wrongdoing had aggravated her grandmother this time, of how she time and time again pushed herself beyond her limits to please her, yet it was never enough, and suddenly found herself feeling angry, more than anything.
The anger filled her veins, drowning out the fear and giving her courage. Enough courage for Manon to do something she’d never done before.
Lifting her head and meeting her grandmother’s furious gaze, Manon spoke with a surprisingly calm voice, «If you’ve done such a good job at raising me, you should trust that I know what I’m doing. Having fun and being a teenager for one gods damned night doesn’t mean I’m throwing away my whole future.»
Her grandmother seethed, her expression shifting into something darker, something dangerous, but Manon must have lost her mind already, because she didn’t back down, didn’t cower, even as her grandmother yelled, «How dare you talk back to me?! You are nothing but a worthless piece of shit! I should-»
But before she could continue her furious rant, she was interrupted by a loud yowling, Abraxos marching into the room at the worst possible moment.
And just like that, Manon’s heart stopped, her courage reduced to nothing as her grandmother’s hateful gaze slowly shifted from Manon to the cat. The woman tolerated his presence in the house at best, but for him to interrupt her like this, when she was already so angry…
Before Manon could react, her grandmother harshly grabbed Abraxos by the neck, yanking him up from the floor. The cat hissed and scrambled to get free, but her grandmother’s grip was too tight. Manon couldn’t breathe, this wasn’t happening-
«I never should have allowed this fucking creature into my house!»
«STOP! Please, you’re hurting him!» Manon begged, her vision blurring from the tears gathering, threatening to spill over.
Her grandmother’s eyes focused back on Manon as she screamed, Abraxos still being held in an iron grip, and the panic in his features shattered Manon’s heart into a million little pieces. She would never be able to forgive herself for this.
«Please,» she tried once more, willing her voice to calm. «I’ll do better, I promise. I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again! Please!»
«Fine,» her grandmother spat out, and Manon let out a sigh of relief, hastily brushing away a stray tear that had managed to escape.
Manon had stupidly enough expected her grandmother to then gently put the cat back down, before continuing her rant, but that wasn’t what happened.
Instead Manon’s grandmother gave her a malicious smile, before she flung Abraxos at the nearest wall. Manon let out a cry as the cat hit the wall, then the floor, with a painfully loud thud.
It was only a matter of seconds, but it felt like hours, where Manon’s heart stopped beating, where her lungs stopped breathing, where Abraxos lay on the floor, completely still.
Her mind had never been so quiet before, never been so loud. This wasn’t happening, she couldn’t lose-
Then the cat moved, scrambling out of the room.
Manon trembled, completely paralyzed as she stared at the spot where Abraxos had just been. She registered her grandmother stalking closer, until she was right up in Manon’s face, registered the hissed «If you ever cross me again, I’ll make sure that pest doesn’t make it out alive», registered her grandmother then walking away, but Manon couldn’t bring herself to answer, to move.
All she could do was stare, and stare, and hope she woke up from this nightmare soon.
It wasn’t until she heard the door of her grandmother’s study slam shut that her body started moving, taking her to her room. Manon had no control over her movements, feeling as if she was viewing her body from the outside.
As soon as she’d crossed the threshold, she carefully closed the door behind her, then made her way towards the bed with robotic movements, slowly lying down on her side.
He’s not dead, she repeated to herself, over and over again, as her breaths became more hurried, more shallow. He’s not dead, he’s okay, he’s notdeadhesokayhesokay-
Even in her panic, Manon could feel something warm settle against her, and it was this that finally broke her.
Between quiet sobs, she managed to whisper, «I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I love you. I didn’t mean to get you hurt. She’ll never hurt you again. I promise. I’m so sorry.»
Tears blurred her vision, and she couldn’t fill her lungs properly, but she kept stroking the soft fur, kept apologizing, hoping he would understand.
This had all been Manon’s fault. Abraxos had been home alone for 24 hours, and Manon had left him plenty of food, but of course he would want attention as soon as he heard someone in the house. She shouldn’t have stayed so long, shouldn’t have been there at all-
She was careless, stupid, worthless-
The tears kept falling and her body kept shaking. She tried to gather her thoughts, tried to come up with a plan, but her mind was utter chaos. Everything had gone so wrong in such little time. The only thing grounding her was the steady rise and fall of Abraxos’ chest, proof he was okay, proof he didn’t hate her for letting her grandmother-
She’d almost lost him today.
And had the rational part of her mind worked in that moment, she might have felt a little pathetic for being this attached to a pet, but Abraxos had been there since she was a child. In periods of her life, he’d been her only companion, her only comfort, while growing up under the roof of this monster.
She’d almost lost him today.
Manon couldn’t let it happen again.
Even if it meant going back to spending every waking hour working to meet her grandmother’s expectations, going back to being careful, never stepping out of line.
She couldn’t risk anyone else getting caught up in this mess, getting hurt because of her.
She only hoped he would understand, if not tomorrow, but some day, that this was for the best. Him hating her, was for the best.
Only for a few more months, she repeated to herself, like a mantra, through the hours of the night, until she finally fell asleep, Abraxos having settled on top of her chest.
A/N:
Where do I even start?
First of all, it feels good to be back with my yearly update of this fic (I wish I was joking, at this pace I'll finish my college degree before I finish this fic...) As usual, the chapter is posted in the middle of the night, no editing, half asleep-
Second, Abraxos, my boi, you'll get revenge, I promise!!! I'm so sorry and I love you<3<3<3 I was in high school when I outlined this fic, and remember thinking "This chapter will hurt to write but you can give your cat lots of cuddles after<3" What 16-year-old me didn't think was that it might take me a while to write (4 years), and that I would be moved out at that point, really far away from my cat *crying*
Anyways-
Feel free to leave a comment, either here or on tumblr, even if it's just yelling at me:):):)
Summary: Manon Blackbeak is flawless, untouchable. From the outside at least. Her grandmother pushes her to achieve greatness, and she doesn’t let anyone get too close in fear of being hurt. How can anyone love her when not even her parents could?
Dorian Havilliard has always felt safe and confident around his friends. He might not have the greatest of families, but with Aelin and Chaol by his side, nothing can go wrong. That is until he tries keeping his greatest secret from them.
What will happen when Dorian and Manon gets to know one another? Can two lost souls find their way back together?
I dreamt last night of a sign that read «The End of Love»
-Florence + The Machine, The End of Love
Dorian was normally against the concept of Sundays. Aside from being the most boring day of the week, Sundays always made him feel weirdly sad and anxious. Another weekend was coming to an end, and he hadn’t enjoyed it to the fullest, and then there was Monday, getting nearer and nearer, looming over him with all its responsibilities and assignments.
This Sunday, though, could last forever, and Dorian wouldn’t mind at all.
He was cuddled up in bed, watching some trashy reality show. That in itself wasn’t unusual for him, but what made this Sunday so different was the fact that Manon was cuddled up with him, currently leaning against his chest and laughing from the show she «could watch for his sake but would need to bleach her eyes, ears and brain after being exposed to».
It was well past noon, but neither cared to get up just yet. They’d left the party at Aelin’s at an ungodly hour, after all, making it back to Dorian’s and sneaking in as quietly as possible to avoid waking his mother and brother.
«I wish this weekend could last forever,» Manon sighed after a while, twisting in his arms until they were face to face.
She looked breathtaking in that moment, Dorian thought, with her swollen lips and tousled hair, her golden eyes bright. Images from last night flashed through Dorian’s mind, and he felt himself harden at the memory of how her bare skin had felt against his.
Manon must have felt it too, judging by the way she now smirked and shifted a little, so that she was fully straddling him. Dorian let out a groan at the sudden friction, his cock going from half-hard to ready and aching in a matter of moments, and his hands moved to grip Manon’s hips, guiding her against him in a rhythm that had them both panting.
«We could just never leave my room? School can go fuck itself, for all I care» Dorian suggested with a shrug. Manon’s answering chuckle was quickly interrupted as Dorian brought his lips to hers in a hungry kiss, a gasp escaping her she tasted him.
«Sounds like a great idea,» Manon managed to get out between kisses, still grinding against his hard cock. Dorian let a hand drift under the t-shirt she was wearing, his t-shirt, and moved it upwards, until he found one of her breasts. He brushed a finger against her peaked nipple, and Manon let out a low moan at the sensation.
Manon sat up, hands moving to lift the t-shirt over her head, and gods, the day Dorian died, he wanted this to be the last image he saw; Manon, sitting astride him, arms lifted and glorious tits on display, face flushed and moon-white hair falling down her back.
Sundays might not be so bad after all.
-
It was already dark outside, by the time Manon left Dorian’s, having spent all day cuddled up in bed, alternating between sleeping, mindlessly watching TV and exploring each other’s bodies.
She’d even met Dorian’s mother, Georgina, which had been a surprisingly pleasant experience. They’d had to venture into the kitchen to get something to eat eventually, and Dorian had been sure they were home alone, from how quiet it was, but the moment they’d stepped out of his room, the front door had opened, his mother and brother back from wherever they’d been.
Dorian had assured her, earlier, that if they ran into his mom, she wouldn’t mind, but Manon still felt mortified as she stood there, hand-in-hand with Dorian, her cheeks bright red. She’d been wearing his shirt, for fuck’s sake! They might as well have had a blinking sign over their heads saying «We’ve spent all night having sex!»
Luckily, Dorian’s mother had been nice enough to not make any teasing comments (at least not while Manon was there, but she’d gotten a text from Dorian exactly one minute after she’d left, begging her to come back and save him).
Instead, she’d pulled a blushing, mortified Manon into a warm hug, telling her how nice it was to finally meet this «friend» Dorian kept talking about.
She’d been even more delighted when Dorian, just as blushing, had stammered out a «she’s my girlfriend, actually». The conversation had ended with Dorian’s mother insisting she come over for dinner some day, and Manon surprising herself by finding she actually wanted to.
All in all, it might have been the most embarrassing experience of her life, but it had also been kinda nice. It helped that Dorian was absolutely adorable when flustered.
As she walked home,Manon tried to think of the last time she’d had this lazy of a Sunday, and quickly found that she couldn’t. It didn’t fill her with panic and restless energy, though, like it normally would have. A weekend like this was exactly what she’d needed, after a long, stressful week. Especially when next week would be just as bad, with her grandmother coming back and all.
Merely thinking about it was enough to ruin Manon’s good mood. She’d be back to constantly walking on eggshells, constantly keeping her mask on, constantly lying to keep her grandmother pleased.
Only a few more months, Manon reminded herself. Then she’d be free.
Gods, if her grandmother had known what she’d been up to for the past day-
Manon smiled to herself as she thought back to last night, already looking forward to the next time she’d be home alone, but then she turned down her own street, her house becoming visible, and the smile quickly disappeared, along with any joy she felt, dread taking it’s place instead.
The lights were on.
Could her grandmother have come home early? Manon’s heart raced at the possibility, especially when she had no idea of knowing how early.
As she got closer and closer, she tried to rationalize, tried to keep the panic at bay.
She could have forgotten to turn the lights off yesterday? But Manon knew that wasn’t the case. She never forgot.
Some small part of her hoped that Asterin had come back, and she pictured walking into the house, her cousin greeting her, asking her what she’d been up to, as if nothing had happened. They would make dinner together, like they’d used to, and when Asterin suggested they watch a movie together, Manon would finally say yes, forgetting her homework for once.
It was that delusional hope that drove her forward, kept the fear from consuming her, even if she deep down knew the truth already.
Because as she entered the house, as she stepped into the living room, it wasn’t Asterin greeting her.
Manon forced herself to look her grandmother in the eye, to seem as unbothered and unafraid as possible, as the elder woman demanded, «Where have you been? It’s late.»
«Just dancing, I forgot the time,» Manon hastily replied, the lie easily slipping off her tongue. It had become so rehearsed lately she didn’t even have to think, and she begged whatever higher power might listen that it would work this time as well.
But Manon realized, before her grandmother had even spoken, that it wouldn’t, from the way her grandmother’s eyes darkened.
«You’ve been dancing since last night?»
Shit.
This was the moment she’d been waiting for. Dreading.
Manon swallowed audibly, trying to come up with a good answer, something to get her out of this mess. «I-»
«Don’t even try lying to me, you ungrateful brat!»
Her heart was racing, and she was sure it would burst out of her chest at any moment, but all she could do was stand there and take the verbal beating that was sure to come. There was no way she could lie her way out of this, no plausible reason for why she’d been away all night.
«The moment I go out of town, you start acting like an irresponsible slut, is that it? You are nothing but a disappointment! I expected you to do better, be better, but then you go and whore yourself just like your mother and that pathetic cousin of yours, throwing away everything I have done for you!»
«I’m sorry,» Manon whispered, eyes locked on her feet as she wished for the ground to open and swallow her whole. The familiar feel of shame and panic filled her, like all the other times she’d stood before her grandmother like this. Frozen. Powerless. And this time, there was no way out of it.
Manon thought of the countless times she’d been in this exact position, apologizing for whatever wrongdoing had aggravated her grandmother this time, of how she time and time again pushed herself beyond her limits to please her, yet it was never enough, and suddenly found herself feeling angry, more than anything.
The anger filled her veins, drowning out the fear and giving her courage. Enough courage for Manon to do something she’d never done before.
Lifting her head and meeting her grandmother’s furious gaze, Manon spoke with a surprisingly calm voice, «If you’ve done such a good job at raising me, you should trust that I know what I’m doing. Having fun and being a teenager for one gods damned night doesn’t mean I’m throwing away my whole future.»
Her grandmother seethed, her expression shifting into something darker, something dangerous, but Manon must have lost her mind already, because she didn’t back down, didn’t cower, even as her grandmother yelled, «How dare you talk back to me?! You are nothing but a worthless piece of shit! I should-»
But before she could continue her furious rant, she was interrupted by a loud yowling, Abraxos marching into the room at the worst possible moment.
And just like that, Manon’s heart stopped, her courage reduced to nothing as her grandmother’s hateful gaze slowly shifted from Manon to the cat. The woman tolerated his presence in the house at best, but for him to interrupt her like this, when she was already so angry…
Before Manon could react, her grandmother harshly grabbed Abraxos by the neck, yanking him up from the floor. The cat hissed and scrambled to get free, but her grandmother’s grip was too tight. Manon couldn’t breathe, this wasn’t happening-
«I never should have allowed this fucking creature into my house!»
«STOP! Please, you’re hurting him!» Manon begged, her vision blurring from the tears gathering, threatening to spill over.
Her grandmother’s eyes focused back on Manon as she screamed, Abraxos still being held in an iron grip, and the panic in his features shattered Manon’s heart into a million little pieces. She would never be able to forgive herself for this.
«Please,» she tried once more, willing her voice to calm. «I’ll do better, I promise. I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again! Please!»
«Fine,» her grandmother spat out, and Manon let out a sigh of relief, hastily brushing away a stray tear that had managed to escape.
Manon had stupidly enough expected her grandmother to then gently put the cat back down, before continuing her rant, but that wasn’t what happened.
Instead Manon’s grandmother gave her a malicious smile, before she flung Abraxos at the nearest wall. Manon let out a cry as the cat hit the wall, then the floor, with a painfully loud thud.
It was only a matter of seconds, but it felt like hours, where Manon’s heart stopped beating, where her lungs stopped breathing, where Abraxos lay on the floor, completely still.
Her mind had never been so quiet before, never been so loud. This wasn’t happening, she couldn’t lose-
Then the cat moved, scrambling out of the room.
Manon trembled, completely paralyzed as she stared at the spot where Abraxos had just been. She registered her grandmother stalking closer, until she was right up in Manon’s face, registered the hissed «If you ever cross me again, I’ll make sure that pest doesn’t make it out alive», registered her grandmother then walking away, but Manon couldn’t bring herself to answer, to move.
All she could do was stare, and stare, and hope she woke up from this nightmare soon.
It wasn’t until she heard the door of her grandmother’s study slam shut that her body started moving, taking her to her room. Manon had no control over her movements, feeling as if she was viewing her body from the outside.
As soon as she’d crossed the threshold, she carefully closed the door behind her, then made her way towards the bed with robotic movements, slowly lying down on her side.
He’s not dead, she repeated to herself, over and over again, as her breaths became more hurried, more shallow. He’s not dead, he’s okay, he’s notdeadhesokayhesokay-
Even in her panic, Manon could feel something warm settle against her, and it was this that finally broke her.
Between quiet sobs, she managed to whisper, «I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I love you. I didn’t mean to get you hurt. She’ll never hurt you again. I promise. I’m so sorry.»
Tears blurred her vision, and she couldn’t fill her lungs properly, but she kept stroking the soft fur, kept apologizing, hoping he would understand.
This had all been Manon’s fault. Abraxos had been home alone for 24 hours, and Manon had left him plenty of food, but of course he would want attention as soon as he heard someone in the house. She shouldn’t have stayed so long, shouldn’t have been there at all-
She was careless, stupid, worthless-
The tears kept falling and her body kept shaking. She tried to gather her thoughts, tried to come up with a plan, but her mind was utter chaos. Everything had gone so wrong in such little time. The only thing grounding her was the steady rise and fall of Abraxos’ chest, proof he was okay, proof he didn’t hate her for letting her grandmother-
She’d almost lost him today.
And had the rational part of her mind worked in that moment, she might have felt a little pathetic for being this attached to a pet, but Abraxos had been there since she was a child. In periods of her life, he’d been her only companion, her only comfort, while growing up under the roof of this monster.
She’d almost lost him today.
Manon couldn’t let it happen again.
Even if it meant going back to spending every waking hour working to meet her grandmother’s expectations, going back to being careful, never stepping out of line.
She couldn’t risk anyone else getting caught up in this mess, getting hurt because of her.
She only hoped he would understand, if not tomorrow, but some day, that this was for the best. Him hating her, was for the best.
Only for a few more months, she repeated to herself, like a mantra, through the hours of the night, until she finally fell asleep, Abraxos having settled on top of her chest.
A/N:
Where do I even start?
First of all, it feels good to be back with my yearly update of this fic (I wish I was joking, at this pace I'll finish my college degree before I finish this fic...) As usual, the chapter is posted in the middle of the night, no editing, half asleep-
Second, Abraxos, my boi, you'll get revenge, I promise!!! I'm so sorry and I love you<3<3<3 I was in high school when I outlined this fic, and remember thinking "This chapter will hurt to write but you can give your cat lots of cuddles after<3" What 16-year-old me didn't think was that it might take me a while to write (4 years), and that I would be moved out at that point, really far away from my cat *crying*
Anyways-
Feel free to leave a comment, either here or on tumblr, even if it's just yelling at me:):):)
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No new chapter tonight, but I've written quite a bit, so I thought I'd share a snippet:):)
He was cuddled up in bed, watching some trashy reality show. That in itself wasn’t unusual for him, but what made this Sunday so different was the fact that Manon was cuddled up with him, currently leaning against his chest and laughing from the show she «could watch for his sake but would need to bleach her eyes, ears and brain after being exposed to».
You are so lost, we miss you very much🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹Will there be a sequel to the Queen of Peace?
Hi nonnie!
I miss you guys too, a lot<3<3 And I promise to finish Queen of Peace someday!! But....I started uni back in August, so I'm much busier than I used to be, and when I have some free time, I rarely have the energy to write:( Maybe I'll manage to cook something up during easter break tho, who knows? (unless I have to spend the whole week of vacation writing a cell biology report that is due right after....)
I'm not making any promises, but the cell biology report is finished, and I still have a week left of vacation, so there might be a new QoP chapter coming your way this easter...
