If Ur In Twd Fandom I Would Loveee A Daryl Dixon Age Gap Fic!! Just Him Being Disgusting Over Taking

If ur in twd fandom I would loveee a Daryl dixon age gap fic!! Just him being disgusting over taking her first time? Just a major power imbalance between them. Dont do this if ur uncomfy ofc!! Stay safe bookie <33

Men Who Are Older.

Daryl Dixon X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: cried happy tears at this request, i LOVE daryl, he's so yummy. dirty old men foreverrrrr!!! i haven't seen all of twd and it's been a while since i've watched it, so this could be super ooc for all i know!! sorry it's short, i wanted to get all my ideas down quickly :3

Tags: LARGE age gap (18-19 and late 40-ish), power imbalance, coercion, p in v, loss of virginity, allusion to anal, creepy old man behavior (ugh i luv it)

Wordcount: 1.2k

You found yourself often visiting Daryl in his tent later in the night when you couldn't sleep. He tried to act like it annoyed him, like your presence was a nuisance to him, but it wasn't. You weren't the most irritating person he had to deal with day-to-day. You were polite enough for your age, you didn't mess around and snoop through his shit. You didn't judge him.

Most importantly, though, you were attractive. There wasn't much hot, young tail to chase around the camp. He liked to think you were his reward for living through hell every day. Nothing like eye candy at the end of the night to ease a hardened man's stress.

It was like most nights when you entered his tent, not bothering to announce yourself. Daryl looked up from the pocket knife he had been mindlessly flicking to eye you down. 

"Shouldn't you be in bed by now?" 

"Yeah, right," you said, taking a casual seat on his bedroll. "What're you doing?"

He clicked his tongue at you on his bed, but sighed and ignored it. "Nothing. Too damn late to do anythin' important."

"Want to chit-chat, then?" You rested your hands on your knees, hoping he would soothe your boredom.

"Do I wanna 'chit-chat'?" Daryl flicked his knife closed and tucked it in his back pocket. "If you wanna chat, why don't you go do it with someone else? You don't have friends your age?" 

"I used to." He didn't say anything, just flattened his mouth at your rebuttal. "We're friends though, aren't we?"

Crossing his arms, he let out a hum. "Whatever you want, kid. Sure. We're real pals."

You spoke about whatever came to your mind for the next however-many minutes with him. Mostly just you babbling on, but it didn't bother him. You could run off at your mouth all you wanted, gave him all the excuse to stare you down and look a little too closely at places he knew he shouldn't.

Eventually, you got on the topic of things you missed about life before. Things you wished you got to experience, things you were slowly starting to forget about.

"I didn't even get to properly lose my virginity before this shit took over," you complained, now laying on Daryl's bed like it was your own. "It really bites, man." 

His eyes widened a bit, arms falling to his legs from their crossed position. 

"Wait, what'd y'say?" 

"Huh? Oh, I didn't get to have sex with anyone before the outbreak," you repeated, not caring to turn to face him while you spoke. "Sometimes, I wonder if I'll die before I get any." 

So many things rushed through Daryl's head at that moment. A virgin? You? It wasn't exactly surprising, you weren't old enough for it to be a shocking thing to hear, but the thought really intrigued him. Made him wonder.

It gave him an idea, and lord knows dirty, old men have even dirtier ideas stewing in their minds.

"That bother you?" 

You finally turned your head over to look at him, eyes looking conflicted.

"I guess, a little. There are bigger things to worry about, but I feel like I'm missing out," you said while trying your best to sound nonchalant. "It's not much of a priority, under the circumstances, you know."

Oh, how wrong you were. It very much was a priority, an urgent one at that. 

"Never know. Could happen, if y'really wanted. Don't rule it out completely," he advised, wiping his face with the back of his palm. "Maybe some younger man might find his way here. Could be an opportunity." 

"Nah, I couldn't go for that. I don't wanna be inexperienced and have to deal with an equally inexperienced guy too. That'd be like hell," you joked.

"Sounds like you want an older man, then."

He called on every guardian angel he had in that moment, praying for you to take the bait. Just one chance, damn it, he wasn't asking for much.

"Yeah, guess so." You made eye contact with him for a brief second, before flitting your eyes around in embarrassment. "Listen, it's getting late, I should go." You pushed yourself up, ready to head back to your family.

Daryl stood from his seat and grabbed your wrist, pulling you closer to him.

"I don't mind," he said, dancing around the answer to the question you didn't yet ask. "I know my fair share."

"Those don't sound like sounds a virgin'd make," he teased. He loved how you sounded. Straight from a porno, just shameless cries and squeals. "You sure you ain't did this before?"

He watched the back of your head shake 'no' while his hand guided along the arch in your spine. Took you a while to learn to keep your head down and ass up, but damn it if you didn't put the knowledge to work quickly.

"Am I supposed to be dizzy?" you asked, voice muffled by the blankets under you.

Daryl chuckled softly, slamming your hips back on him. "Yeah, if the guy's doin' it right. Feel good?"

Your hands clenched the fabric you were laying on, digging into it roughly.

"I think? I—I dunno, 's just so much."

Being the man he was, Daryl took that as a challenge. He flipped you over on your back, cock still rocking into you. He sped up, letting his movements get sharper. 

"C'mon," he muttered gruffly, trying to urge you to place your legs on his shoulders, "you gonna be this much of a problem for the next guy?"

You gave your weak legs a kick, wrapping them around his neck so the shaking wouldn't roll them off his shoulders. 

"No, no," you whined, groping your tits to keep your hands busy, "don't want another guy. He won't be as good as you, Dar." 

How the hell could a few little words get him ramped up even more? He knew you probably didn't mean it, horny girls said whatever their pussies wanted them to say, but the way he fucked you made you believe your own words.

"Yeah? I ruined ya for other guys already?" 

The stark difference between his now softer tone and rougher thrusts confused your brain in the best ways possible. You couldn't focus on just one aspect of him: Daryl was everywhere. In your brain, in your heart, in the very blood flowing through your veins— and, of course, inside of you. 

It was too much, all of it. 

Your walls clamped tightly over him, sucking him in like a vacuum. The clenching of your walls over his dick sent him over the edge, barely leaving him enough time to pull out. He bit the back of his hand, stifling a moan while he jerked himself the rest of the way off, coating your tired pussy with his cum. 

"You didn't cum inside, did you?" You sat up quickly, scooting back a bit. 

Daryl let out a huff. "I'm not an amateur, I know how to pull out."

"Just checking," you mumbled, lying back down on his bedroll, head nuzzling into the pillow.

You felt his dick push up against your ass, prodding between your cheeks.

"I could show you a way that'll make sure no idiot douchebags get ya knocked up," he offered, head desperately tapping against your asshole, "if you want."

A soft sigh came from your chest as you pushed your ass back on him.

"You're an eager teacher, y'know."

Can u write some Older Leon x Younger Reader headcannons?🤭

OHOHOHO YES! eat well my children ;) ----------------------------------------------------

-Leon loves it when your face slightly rubs up against his stubble - you always make a grossed-out expression, but oh how he loves it -Calls you "darling," "princess," "sweetheart" and any other pet name he thinks fits the love of his life. some are pretty corny, but you let him call you whatever his heart desires -He makes a lot of noises. getting up? old man noise. sitting down? old man noise. moving??? old man noise. you tease him for it, but he really can't help it -Constantly makes sure you're okay with the age difference. the last thing he would want is to make you uncomfortable. even when the two of you are MARRIED he constantly stresses over it, no matter how many times you tell him you love him -He's been thru a lot. please love this man. when he comes home from yet another long mission, he gets very clingy. he loves it when you let him lay on your chest, massaging his head and placing soft kisses on his forehead. as soon as you touch his head he lets out a big sigh, finally feeling relaxed after a long time of being constantly on alert -His kisses tickle. so. much. again with the stubble- he'll place kisses all over your body, his stubble prickling your sensitive skin. you pretend you hate it, but you secretly love it (more about this...)

Notice me! | Azriel X Freader

summary; Azriel courting an oblivious reader.

a/n; Heyy! Just a little fic of being courted by Azriel. And you not being very aware of it. Hope you enjoy!

content/trigger warnings; knife, food, meat?, cussing, kissing, no use y/n, hint towards lust feeling, Azriel pining, Armen being sassy, FEM reader (if you’d like me to make a another post with male reader, message me!) she/her pronouns for reader, thunderstorm mention and I think that’s it. If I missed something, feel free to message me on it! 💝

word count: 3.1k. |. Part two

A plate clattered against the table causing your attention to turn to the man in front of you.

You met his gaze as he waited for you to try his new dish, his eyes seeming to shine as the sun hit his eyes. You swear he always seemed to be effortlessly beautiful. It was angering in some ways, you had even seen him wake up looking like a god. No. Better than a god. It didn’t matter if you spent an hour in the mirror, swiping various products of different expenses on your face; the result would be the same. The same boring face you saw everyday.

A wonderful smell wafted from the plate, causing your empty stomach to growl loud enough to shake the mountains. The shadowsinger smirked, pushing the plate of food closer to you with a gentleness most men didn’t have. Your face flushed with embarrassment, your hands instinctively coming to paw at your stomach, hoping it would stop. Your eyes wandered down to the plate where a meal sat.

“I haven’t made this before. I wanted you to be the first to try it.” He spoke with every ounce of grace and elegance a god would have. His hands grasped the seat across from you, pulling it out and taking a seat. His wings shifted until finding a comfortable position in the chair. You nodded in response, picking the fork up before taking in the rather- gracious portion of food he had made for you.

A ribeye steak bigger than your hand sat on the plate. Seasoning of different kinds were smothered on it, and the smell of butter consumed your senses. Your mouth watered in response. Beside it were two sides. Your favorites.

Armen smirked from where she sat beside you, watching as you lifted the steak knife and fork. You were so oblivious. She had been watching for the last few years as Azriel desperately chased after you, and you never seemed to even notice. It was amusing. He has spent hours staring at you, and you never realized. And if she pointed it out, you just assumed you had something on your face. She knew he was growing restless. Not tired of you, but tired of your complete oblivion. These days he seemed ready to scream from the top of the roof that he loved you.

Azriel’s scarred hand clutched at your wrist. He gently took the knife and fork away from you, before grabbing your plate and proceeding to cut your steak into bite sized pieces. Armen snickered from where she sat, resulting in a glare from Azriel.

“Oh- Azriel I can do that-“ You started.

“I know you can.” He responded. He didn’t give back your plate until your steak was cut into bite sized pieces for you. He watched you place the first bite of steak into your mouth.

Your eyes rolled back and you let out a hum of approval, chewing the food. The flavor was delicious, and it was quite easily the best steak you had ever tasted in your life. It wasn’t too buttery. Or too seasoned. It was just right. The meat was tender.

Azriel’s wings rustled at your hum. His face shined with pure male pride. His eyes never left you once while you chewed and swallowed. He stood, taking the steak knife that was no longer needed into the kitchen.

Armen followed after him. He sat the knife in the sink, letting the house do its magic before turning his attention to Armen.

“You’re like a love sick puppy.”

“My love life isn’t your business.” Azriel responded, his face tight. His words were low, ensuring you couldn’t hear.

“Hm. All I’m saying is your ‘courting’ isn’t going to work.” Armen said, picking at her nail leisurely. She was like a cat. Her piercing eyes watched as Azriel’s eyes narrowed at her with a scowl. Before he could comment more, Armen spoke again.

“She’s oblivious. It doesn’t matter if you fix her food, or leave her favorite pastries everywhere so she finds them, she won’t get the hint. Literally. I’m getting seasonal allergies from the amount of flowers you’ve left for her everywhere in this house.Seriously, this place is covered in flowers. Either start professing love or drop this little crush.” She growled out, walking out of the kitchen.

Azriel stayed silent before whispering,“It’s not little.”

“Yeah, don’t let me forget to grab a few early starfall gifts.” Mor said. You groaned loudly, rubbing your temples. Even the idea of her gifts made you want to cry. Her starfall gift for you these past few years have been a collection of ridiculously fuzzy socks. Every.Year.

Of course you were grateful, but everyone knew Mor’s gifts weren’t particularly good. You now had a drawer filled with fuzzy and odd colored socks.

Velaris was bustling today. Fae of all kids roamed the streets, some tending to their shops. Kids ran through the streets playing games. Everyone was out enjoying the sunny day. You and Mor decided to go shopping to pick up a few items. Your eyes wandered back down to your list, a few more candles, a book or two, and some lotion.

“Starfall gifts? I don’t think you need to shop this early for them-“

“Nonsense! It’s never too early to do gift shopping!” Mor said, cutting you off. You sighed and shook your head knowing it was hopeless to argue with her.

After a few trips to some stores, you both ended up getting lunch at Rita’s. You ordered a milkshake- apparently a new creation of a cold drink? None less, whatever they were, everyone had been going crazy over them in Velaris. And of course you also got your favorite meal. Mor ordered practically half the menu, content to eat her heart out. You didn’t blame her- food was good.

As your plates were sat down by the waitress, Mor eyed your food with a questioning look. Your eyebrows raised in confusion. “What? You’re looking at my food weird.”

“Oh. Well I’m just surprised to see you ordering a meal here. You know Azriel is gonna harp if you don’t eat his food.” Mor responded, shoveling food into her mouth as if she’d starve.

“Huh?” You countered.

Mor finished her food before rolling her eyes. She sighed deeply as if you had troubled her. “You know..” she said, waving her hands as if that would solve your confusion. When you raised your eyebrows with a puzzled face, she put her fork down.

“You know- when you eat something someone else cooked or you’re not hungry, and he’s cooked you a meal. And you refuse it- he gets all huffy and puffy! Like a broody motherhen.” She continued.

“He doesn’t even fix me food that often-“ you argued.

“Oh please! Breakfast, lunch, and dinner! Full course meal on the table for you. If only someone loved me that much.” Mor said, picking her fork back up. “Those meals weren’t from the house hun. All I’m saying is maybe you should pay more attention.”

For the rest of the meal, you both sat in silence as you pondered over her words.

Cassian laughed  as you entered from the hallway. His eyes shined with amusement as you waddled to the counter with your shopping bags.

The sound was enough to draw a curious Azriel to the room. He immediately grabbed all your bags despite your complaints, setting them on the table. He nodded at you in response when you thanked him.

“I thought you were only shopping for a few things.” Cassian stated. He stood casually leaned against the table with a drink in his left hand. Azriel stood to your left, his wings expanded. His eyes were keen and watchful. You doubted he ever missed a single detail. His skin glistened with sweat, a musky bourbon scent coming from him. Cassian’s skin was sweaty too, evidence of them training together earlier in the day.

“Well, the candle store had a buy two get five for free deal. So I bought  four and got ten for free! Cauldron I love Velaris!” You squealed, and Azriel smirked knowingly. He had taken note of your recent obsession with buying candles. Cassian shook his head.

Cassian's face lit up with surprise as you handed him two candles. “So I got one for everyone else. This one smells like leather and the other vanilla. I figured you’d like it Cas.” You continued. He nodded in thanks. You turned to Azriel.

“I got you this candle because I know you love blueberries. And this one is supposed to smell like rainy days and lightning. And this one is books and bourbon!”

Azriel’s eyes never looked down to the candles you had shoved in his arms. His eyes stayed on your face as you happily ranted about the candles. When you finished and looked back up to his face, he had a soft look. It was one you don’t think you’ve seen him use before. His eyes were soft and looked like pools of honey, and his smile was gentle.

You watched as he sat down the candles on the table and turned back to you. “They’re perfect.” He responded. He was so memorizing. You just knew whoever he ended up with would be content. You struggled taking your eyes from him.Cassian growled playfully.

“Hey! Unfair! He got three candles! I only got-“

Cassian was cut off by Mor smacking him on the back of the head as she trotted to the kitchen. She had a lot of leftovers to put away. Azriel gave him a quick glare, silencing him.

You noticed he was wearing all his leathers, and siphons. His shadows whirled leisurely around his shoulders and wings. Azriel watched as your eyes creased in confusion. He sighed. He couldn’t help but feel a shimmer of hope at the fact you had gotten him more candles than Cassian.

“Rhysand sent me on a mission, I’ll be gone for a few days most likely. I’m going to spy on the human queens and make sure all is well there.” He admitted. He watched as your face fell. You quickly smiled again and nodded. His heart thumped like a hammer in his chest. Did you care? Would you miss him like he always missed you? He wondered if you couldn’t sleep like he couldn’t when he was away from you.

“Oh. I see. Be safe.” You responded, nodding slowly. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the feeling in your chest. You had never felt it before. You wondered why all of a sudden you felt this way about him leaving.

His eyes softened even more. “I leave in an hour or two.” He whispered, head tilting to catch your eyes once more. Cassian had disappeared from the room all of a sudden, him and Mor talking loudly about dumb things in the kitchen. Leaving you and Azriel alone. “Let me cook you dinner before I leave.”

His eyebrows furrowed this time as you shook your head no. His smile dropped. He looked like a kicked puppy almost-

“I ate lunch with Mor.” You explained. Your explanation didn’t seem to comfort him as he shook his head in response.

“That was lunch. It’s time for dinner.” Azriel said firmly.

Your mind went back to Mor’s words. Pay more attention…what did she mean? What was there to pay attention to? Azriel cooked for everyone- right..? Your mind raced over your memories, trying to think of a single time you had seen Azriel set a plate down for one of the others.

“Alright then, fix me dinner Azriel.” You responded. Azriel smiled, pleased. His right wing flared, draping over your back. “Follow me.” He said, leading the way into the kitchen. His wing was warm against your back, as it guided you beside him. It was much larger than  you were, towering over your head. As you entered the kitchen, Cassian and Mor immediately scampered out shouting something about extra training.

You watched Azriel move around the kitchen in a graceful dance of grabbing pans and pots. He kept his wings tucked in, to keep them from banging against counters and tables. His hair was messy from training, or like he had ran his hands through it more then once. But it never failed to frame his face. You watched as a few shadows dart around, grabbing various spices and ingredients for whatever new dish he’d make tonight. He set a pan down on the stove before turning to you.

His scarred hands gently grasped your hips, lifting you up effortlessly. He sat you on an empty space on the counter. He huffed a laugh at your squeak of shock. He patted one of your thighs gently before leaving your side and returning to his pan.

Your face flushed with embarrassment. He had lifted you as if you weighed nothing, showcasing his obvious strength. Everytime he touched you with his beautiful hands, it felt like everything stopped. As if the world had slowed to let you enjoy the moment. Your hands wrapped around your stomach, wondering what this weird feeling that had overcome you meant.

He moved swiftly, chopping ingredients and throwing things in various pots and pans. You quickly realized by smell alone he was making your comfort food. You remembered the night a storm had rolled in. Usually thunder and lightning didn’t scare you- but this was different. The booms and flashes were intense, shaking the ground and keeping you from sleep. You had stumbled to the house library in an attempt to distract yourself. But you only found Azriel instead. He had scented your obvious distress and took action immediately. He helped you settle on the couch with cushions and blankets before asking what a comfort food was. A good 15 minutes later he returned with a plate.

You don’t remember much pass that, you just remember becoming tired and sleepily. You remember feeling warm all of a sudden and then you woke up in your bed that morning.

“It’s almost done.” Azriel spoke, bringing you back from your memories. His eyes were distant as if he too was remembering that same night.

You smiled and thanked him as he handed you your bowl and a spoon. He made himself a bowl too. He took your bowl from his hands and sat it down, before grabbing you and setting you back on the floor. His hands stayed on your hips until he was sure you were balanced. He guided you to the sitting room with a fire.

Azriel didn’t eat until you took your first bite, ensuring you liked it. And of course, you did. It was warm, and comforting, like a hug in your mouth. It soothed your soul in ways nothing else could, the flavors easing your body from any previous aches. Azriel had never made a bad meal before. You both ate in silence together, with the comforting crackle of the fire and warming food. But as the time passed, you knew it came time for him to leave.

Your bowls sat on the coffee table. Both finished. The house made them disappear, taking care of them on its own. You were always amazed by its magic.

Your head snapped to Azriel as he stood. He sighed, looking at the clock on the wall. His eyebrows were furrowed and he almost looked like he wanted to chain himself to the wall before even considering leaving. He turned to your sitting form. His shadows seemed to move more quickly and sharper around his shoulders.

“It’s time for me to leave.” He whispered. He watched as you nodded solemnly. You smiled, but he knew it didn’t reach your eyes.

“Thank you for the meal.”

You watched as Cassian hugged Azriel in goodbye, and Mor nod as her own way of saying goodbye. Azriel had taken his candles to his room earlier, before joining everyone in the hallway. When one left for more then a day, you all said proper goodbyes.

Azriel turned to you, walking swiftly. His arms wrapped around you tightly, his big biceps practically squeezing the life out of you. He practically had to hold himself back from purring when your arms wrapped around his neck in return. Everything darkened as his wings cocooned you. His wings blocked out the noises of the others, leaving just you and him. His head found solace in your neck. His scent overwhelmed your senses in a good way. Before you had time to question Azriel being touchy, Cassian yelled,

“Ok! Ok! We get it, Azriel. Let go of her before you suffocate her.”

Azriel lifted his head, and his wings dropped. His eyes stayed latched on yours. A few seconds passed before he tore his eyes away and scowled at Cassian. His teeth bared in silent warning. Cassian backed down and turned to have conversation with the others. Azriel released you from his grip.

“I’ll be back soon. Don’t starve. And I left some flowers on your nightstand. I hope you don’t mind.” He whispered to you, fiddling with his hands like a nervous school boy. Your eyes lit up and you smiled gently.

“Thank you Azriel. Goodbye.” You whispered back in response. His smile turned upside down.

“I told you, call me Az. Or whatever you want- just not my full name. We’re closer than that.” He said in a growl like tone. He watched as you nodded your head.

It was time for him to leave now. He sighed deeply. The others had gone silent watching the scene with interest. But he didn’t seem to care.

He leaned down to your height, his hands grasping at your chin. He turned your head before leaving a gentle but firm kiss on the side of your cheek. “Sleep well tonight.” He whispered before pulling away. You stood in shock at the door to the balcony, as he said his last goodbyes. He waved in an almost shy way at you before taking flight.

You stood still, flabbergasted at what had happened. Slowly your hand rose to your cheek.

Realization dawned on you- he hadn’t ever fixed food for anyone else other than you.

a/n; hope you enjoyed, let me know if you want part two! 🌙

Needs To Be Perfect | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Thank you @lazyneonrabbitt for the idea!

“M'tellin' ya, Dog, it has to be perfect. I can't mess it up. She ain't gon' say yes if it ain't a hundred percent perfect.”

You stopped your descend down the stairs, hiding your body behind the wall as you heard your partner's voice fill the air. You had temporarily left just to go grab something from your room, and it appeared to you that Daryl had decided to have a heart-to-heart with his furry companion in your absence. And apparently, the aforementioned heart-to-heart included something he was planning for you. Saying that your interest was peaked would be an understatement.

You could hear Dog let out a small bark, as if trying to communicate with his owner. “Yeah, s'wha' m'thinkin'. She's perfect, so she deserves the damn best proposal ever.”

You could feel your heart stop, yet speed up at the same time. Proposal? Daryl was planning on proposing? How long had he been wanting to do that? And why did he ever think you'd say no? He could propose to you with one of his bike's wheel nuts in a sewer and you'd say yes with zero hesitation. That's how much you loved your partner.

“M'thinkin'a takin' her out on my bike to tha' lake we found way back when. S'one'a her favourite spots. Maybe I can set up a picnic or somethin'.” Daryl stopped and let out a deep sigh. “Nah, tha's too cliche. She ain't any ordinary person. She deserves better than tha'. Bein' proposed to while on a picnic. S'been done way too many times already.”

You smiled to yourself as your grip on the book—the thing you had left to go grab from your room—tightened. Your heart was attempting to pound out of your ribcage. So you hadn't misheard him. Your partner and love of your whole life was planning on making it official. He was planning on putting a ring on your finger. He wanted you to be his wife. You felt like crying from happiness, but you knew that if you did, Daryl would be alerted to your knowledge of his plans. No, you wouldn't spoil this for him by letting him know that you knew.

“Wha' 'bout takin' her huntin' and proposin' to her like tha'?” As if disliking the idea, Dog let out a growl. “Well, wha' do ya suggest I do, then?!” Daryl exclaimed in frustration, before stopping and letting out another sigh. “Wha' have I come to? Talkin' to a dog 'bout things it ain't ever gon' be able to help me with. M'slippin' badly,” Daryl mumbled to himself. “I jus'... M'terrified, Dog. I dun' wanna screw it up. I dun' know what I'll do if she says no.”

Your heart broke at the sound of the evident fear in the archer's voice. You knew that this fear stemmed from years of mistreatment. Daryl didn't believe that he deserved you, and he was scared of the day you'd walk out on him—a day that would never come. So, you vowed to yourself you'd ensure that he wouldn't doubt himself. You'd subtly ensure him that whatever he decided to do as his proposal, you'd say yes regardless. He deserved to have that clarity.

You stomped your foot on the stair once, loud enough so that Daryl could hear and think that you were just bounding down the stairs. You walked down the remaining few steps and walked into the living room, book in hand. Daryl looked up at you with raised eyebrows and widened eyes, clearly being afraid of being caught planning something big. You knew, of course, but you wouldn't tell him.

“Sorry it took forever to come back,” you apologized, raising the book for him to see. “This took me a while to find. Did I miss anything?”

Daryl let out a small sigh of relief, and you had to refrain from chuckling. “Nah, nothin' important. Jus' havin' a lil' conversation with Dog,” he told you, falling back on the couch and patting his bare chest as a way to tell you he expected more cuddles—cuddles that were interrupted earlier due to your need to find the book.

You smiled and climbed onto the couch, settling snuggly against him and opening the book. “He say anything interesting?”

Daryl snorted as his eyes drifted to the animal that rested on the floor near the couch. “Nah.” He wrapped his arms around you and placed a tender kiss to the top of your head. “Ya gon' read to me now or not?”

“In a minute.” You looked at Daryl and gave him a small smile. You admired his features, from the dip of his nose to the curve of his lips, his beautiful ocean coloured eyes, everything. Everything about this man was beautiful to you. “You're stunning, Daryl.” Daryl scoffed and shook his head, but you cut him off before he could say anything. “It's true. Don't even try to fight me on this. You're stunning. You're kind, you're smart, you're brave, and you're the most selfless person I've ever met. I'm so lucky I get to tell everyone that you're the love of my life. I'm so lucky that I get to spend my life with you, and I wouldn't have it any other way.”

Daryl hesitated for a moment, before sending you a small smile. “Yeah? Ya dun' mind spendin' yer life with me?”

You shook your head. “Not at all.” You leaned down and pressed a soft, tender kiss to his lips before pulling back. “I love you, Daryl Dixon.”

“And I love ya. So fuckin' much.”

And with that, some of Daryl's worries got soothed. He was still freaking out over what he would do for a proposal, but he felt a little better knowing that you didn't intend on leaving him anytime soon. You were the light of Daryl's existence.

And he planned on keeping you in his life for the rest of his days.

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

hc's for the boys with a plus sized mate?

Curve | Plus Size Mate Headcanons

I loved writing this so much! I love to see more inclusivity in the acotar universe where there's a lot of emphasis on beauty looking a certain way.

again, no Rhysand cause fuck that shit

Cassian

YES!FUCKING!PLEASE Cassian adores curvy women, there's more for him to grab onto.

And then he saw you and he fell head over heels. this man is a fool for you.

He likes how soft and delicate you are, fleshy and curved whereas he is hard and angular.

Cuddling with you is just so comfy!! after a long, hard day all he wants is to lay his head on your stomach while you stroke his hair and he swears he never wants to let you go again.

Cassian is absolutely a boob man and he can't get enough of them. seriously. any dress you wear that shows them off and he just won't take his eyes off you all day.

He's genuinely crazy about you and he just wants you to see the beauty that he does when he looks at you.

Azriel

Azriel had never been with a curvy woman before, but gods when he saw you he knew he was FUCKED.

He spends weeks and months thinking about what it would feel like to have you in his arms and his bed.

he daydreams about it, so much that it distracts him.

when he finally has the courage to show you how he feels he's never going back.

He could spend DAYS with his head between your thighs, loving how they press against his head when he hits that sweet spot.

He loves taking baths with you, running his hands along your thighs and your soft hips and the curve of your waist.

He absolutely worships your body-- he practically eye fucks you when you're in public the boy is a fool in love.

Eris

Eris likes his women THICC! always has, always will.

He fucking loves the way your body feels against him, the way it looks in everything you wear.

He loves your hips, how wide and soft they are and how they were designed for him to love and carry his babies.

He's RAVENOUS for you, everything about you, he could never get his fill of you.

He loves you and to him, your body signifies home, safety and comfort. Laying with his head on your soft stomach is the perfect end to his day, kissing down your sides, your stomach, thighs and hips.

He swears you're a QUEEN; your body is built for love, like some ancient goddess.

Lucien

I guess it runs in the Vanseera blood cause fuck Lucien is crazy about you and he thinks your body is beautiful, all contours and curves that drive him wild.

He's an ASS man.

It's his favourite physical feature besides your face. He's constantly checking it out whenever he has the chance. And grabbing it.

He's pretty much always got his hands on you, running his hands all over your curves while whispering how beautiful you are to him.

He's so in love with you but he understands how hard it can be to feel insecure so if you ever do he's there to support you through it, reassuring you that you are beautiful and you are enough.

Lightning in a Bottle - Prologue

Summary: 

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was actually pretty much useless. The only thing she wanted was to be somebody's first choice for once in her life.

Also known as: Azriel's shadows decide that if he doesn't treat his mate right... they'll just do it for him.

Warnings: 

Kinda Elain Bashing?, Low Self Esteem, Mention of Cauldron induced torture...

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

As far as cauldron-made went…Eira Archeron was pretty much useless. 

She had neither the power of Death nor of Divinity. 

She was neither the prettiest one, that title belonged to Elain…nor the smartest one, which was undoubtedly Nesta. Or the strongest one like Feyre…And if she had tried to hunt like Feyre, it would have been more likely that she would have accidentally killed herself instead of bringing home any meat. 

As a human, she had been limited to cooking and cleaning and laundry, all of it with limited supplies and even more limited experience. She had tried. It had never been enough. 

So maybe it shouldn’t have surprised her that her uselessness continued on even when she was no longer human.

So if she wasn’t beautiful or strong or smart…what was she then? 

The dumb one? 

When the cauldron had burned every bit of humanity out of her…when it had ripped away all her hopes and dreams…when it had been so angry with Nesta after whatever she had done to it that Eira was just…Eira was just an afterthought, something it could hurt in response to her sisters and then leave gasping on that stone floor feeling like she was dying…

She had done her best to accept her lack of humanity afterwards. Nesta had raged…Elain had said nothing, suffering silently in the bed…and Eira…Eira had tried. 

Tried to make it better…tried to make it easier for everybody around her. She had tried. 

She hadn’t wanted to put even more on Feyre’s shoulders, not with the threat of impending war…and so she had done her best to be supportive and make no trouble…be agreeable and quiet and be helpful…

But she couldn’t be helpful. 

She was nothing but a useless appendage. With no powers, no great destiny stretched in front of her…

Not even a limb. Not even a fucking pinky finger. 

More like a skin tag. 

Completely useless. If cut off, it wouldn’t even bother anybody. 

They had made that clear to her over time. 

They had made clear what they thought about her, again and again, and now…now she finally realised it. She was a slow learner…but by the gods, she did learn. 

It started…slow in a sense. Comments, made offhandedly, that probably weren’t meant that way anyway…sometimes said to her face…sometimes overheard. 

“Stop your screeching, girl, I am getting a headache.” Amren. After she had finally…after months felt like singing again as she fixed the hem on one of her sister’s dresses. She had stopped singing then.

Amren had never brought it up again. But then Amren had never been particularly nice to any of them.      

“Don’t come crying to me if she bites off your head. I warned you.” Rhysand had told her drily when she insisted on visiting Nesta at the House of Wind every week after all of that had gone down… 

“Don’t you have anything better to do? Like make another ugly dress?” Seethingly said by Nesta…pitted against the one thing she liked to pretend she was good at…the one thing she could do and make money with…

It cut. Of course, it did. But it wasn’t even the worst thing thrown at her head by Nesta…so why was it the one thing that stayed in her mind? 

“We don’t need Eira. Quite frankly, it’s better if she doesn’t go. Elain is the prettier one, anyway.” Cassian…overheard by Eira before the rest of them had gone off to Hewn City. Eira left behind because…well the contrast of Elain badly dressed was enough, no need for Eira to…be what? A distraction?  

And it was true too. Elain was the prettier twin sister. 

Eira was just…common as muck as her mother had liked to remind her…Nesta was the smart one, the one who would marry a prince…Elain would marry for love and beauty…and Eira…well, she would make a good farmer’s wife as far as her mother was concerned.

Not pretty enough to garner a richer man’s attention…not smart enough to drag herself up the echelons of society on her own…To easily content as far as her mother was concerned. 

“As far as cauldron-made goes, she is pretty much useless.” Morrigan. Said in jest. Eira was quite sure of that…still, it had hurt. Because it was true. She was useless. 

No magic sparking at her fingertips…Using her magic was like pulling teeth…painful and a long process…And it never did what she wanted anyway. 

“Eira, find somewhere else to be. I really have more important things to do,” Feyre had said with a sigh…after she had brought her sister cookies and tea…after she had only tried to get Feyre to take a break from her work. 

Eira hadn’t tried that again either. 

And then the one that clinched it: 

“At least I found two males in my life willing to marry me. The one you have your ridiculous puppy crush on is never even going to look at you!”

Said by Elain…by her twin sister. She was frozen in place, staring at Elain wide-eyed as her sister sneered at her. 

 That was the last drop into an already overflowing bucket. 

Stress. Right? Just stress from wedding planning. Elain would have never said that usually. 

She wouldn’t have…

It was just…it was just stress…Just stress. 

Elain didn’t mean it like that. 

Right?

Elain flounced off…her wedding binder in tow…leaving Eira alone, sitting there, in the dining room, her chest aching. 

Eira was in a trance as she carefully put all the plates into one tidy stack…as she was thankful that it had just been her and Elain, every other person in their family busy with their mates or something else…Feyre and Rhysand gone with Baby Nyx for the evening…Nesta and Cassian off at the House of Wind…who knew what Mor and Amren were up to…

Or even Azriel. 

A sob threatened to take over, as she thought that name. 

She walked up the stairs…to her room…Her room. She locked the door with shaky hands. 

“At least I found two males in my life willing to marry me. The one you have your ridiculous puppy crush on is never even going to look at you!”

She collapsed on her bed, burying her face into her pillow and let the tears stream. 

Ridiculous puppy crush. 

All of that said because she had tried to talk to Elain about her choice of flowers for her wedding. Because lilies wouldn’t be in season when she married Lucien in Day Court in less than 2 months. 

And then Elain responded with that, because Eira clearly wanted to ruin her wedding with that factoid. 

“At least I found two males in my life willing to marry me. The one you have your ridiculous puppy crush on is never even going to look at you!”

The worst part of it was that it was the simple truth. 

Azriel was never going to pay her a second glance. 

He had always been more interested in Elain than Eira…he had on more than one occasion asked Eira questions about her twin sister…had made sure that Elain was comfortable and cared for…and Eira had sufficed as a source of information and nothing else. 

And after Elain and Lucien had become serious…well, Eira ceased to be interesting too. He hadn’t sought her out again. 

If she sat next to him at dinner, he was polite and quiet, bordering on silent. And then she tried to fill the silence and probably only annoyed him in the process. 

He didn’t want her. He never would. 

She starved down the sobs that wracked her body. 

It was probably high time that she accepted that, right?

High time to get over herself. 

High time that she reminded herself that…that she was never going to have him and that staring at him in ill-hidden affection only made everybody else make fun of her and probably made him deeply uncomfortable. 

So maybe it was better that she just…

At least he had never called her useless, she supposed. It could be worse…even when he never would want her. 

She felt the touch on her hand first…soft like velvet…like kitten fur…never warm, never cold. massive and somehow not… definitely not human. 

The shadows. His shadows. 

Sometimes they came to keep her company. At the start, she had thought that maybe he had sent them but nowadays she was quite sure that they had just liked her quiet singing while embroidery one afternoon. So quiet that nobody would hear.  It had taken her months to coax them out of their corners after that. They probably had just taken pity on her. 

Just like they did now. 

“Please don’t,” she choked out. She never wanted him to find out how she was feeling about him…never wanted to feel the pain of him outright turning her down. 

 And if his shadows came to check on her, they would report back in what they saw…and they didn’t need…didn’t need to worry about it. 

They never talked to her. Just sometimes they came and listened to her softly talk to them while she was sewing in the evening, about this and that...

It wasn’t right how she talked to you, the shadows whispered. 

They didn’t talk to her. Never. 

And now they did. 

Hell, even his shadows were feeling sorry for her, weren’t they? 

“Please don’t tell him,” she begged. 

He should know, they disagreed softly. Everybody should know. She should apologise to you. 

And what would that give her? Nothing. More embarrassment because everybody else got to hear all about her fledgling little feelings? Feelings she should bury deep and never examine again? 

“Please,” she begged again and the shadows seemingly surrendered, curling themselves up against her hands so that she could touch them. 

Don’t cry, they soothed her softly. Don’t give her that. 

Elain hadn’t said anything that was untrue. That was the worst part. It was true. And that hurt. 

Is there anything we could do? the shadows asked Eira softly. Anything at all to make this better? 

“No,” she whispered, choking out the words, another sob. Not anymore. There was nothing anybody could do. 

It hurt. It hurt so badly.  Just like the cauldron had.  Then she had wished she would die. 

Now…now she wondered the same once again. Maybe then it would stop feeling like this. 

She cried her eyes out, as the tears kept pouring over her cheeks…as she sobbed until her throat was raw and everything hurt. And finally, she just laid there…the shadows still swirling worriedly around her prone form. 

“Don’t you need to work?” she asked the shadows listlessly, tears tracking over her cheeks. “Don’t you have something more important to do than to try and comfort me?” 

Maybe take care of him?

You are important, the shadows snapped. 

Eira could argue that point. She was useless. So what did it matter? It didn’t. 

She wiped away the tears, but new ones just came pouring over her face and she stopped trying, let them run down her face and wondered how long she could stay in her room and never come out again. 

Would you like something to eat? the shadows tried again. So sweet. Trying to give her something, anything to comfort her. 

“No, thank you,” she whispered. Alone the thought made her want to throw up. 

She didn’t want to eat. 

She didn’t want to get up and talk to anybody. She didn’t want to even look at another person anymore. 

She didn’t…

What would you like then? The shadows tried softly. Would you like to plot revenge? they suggested. 

It was so stupid that she choked out a laugh. 

“For what? Elain saying what everybody else is thinking?” Eira asked, her heart painfully restricting. 

Nobody here actually wanted her around. If she disappeared forever she would do them a favour. Him especially. 

Elain had only said what everybody else was thinking. 

All three of her sisters had found their mates, just not Eira. All three of her sisters had some kind of power…just not her. All three of them had found some kind of place for themselves…and then there was her, living with her youngest sister, half seamstress, half nanny for her child, an unwanted appendage that was taken care of out of some feeling of duty and no other reason.

Elain had just voiced what she was thinking. The truth. 

It had been the truth. Plain and simple. And Eira maybe didn’t like to hear it but it didn’t…it didn’t matter. 

It was the truth. 

Elain had two men willing to marry her and spend the rest of their lives with her…and nobody wanted to spend any time with Eira. A husband wasn’t even something that had ever seemed to be a possibility. 

Even if everybody else is thinking, that doesn’t make it right. The shadows disagreed quietly. Your sister said that to hurt you and not for any other reason. 

“She’s stressed out with wedding planning,” Eira whispered. 

It had just been that. Probably. Maybe. 

That doesn’t make it right, the shadows disagreed again, twirling tighter around her wrist. We could ruin her wedding. Lilies and all, they suggested brightly. 

She shook her head. No. Elain should have the wedding she dreamed of. Eira wasn’t going to ruin it for her. 

“Don’t do that,” she said weakly.

We could at least steal her wedding binder, they told her mulishly, and Eira wondered if they disagreed like that with Azriel too.

Azriel…

What did it say about her that she fell head over heels in love with the first man who treated her with polite indifference? That she was so desperate to be loved that that was all it took? 

Did it matter? 

No. 

Elaine was right. He would never spare her a second glance. He was just as unreachable as any other male.

Nothing was enticing about Eira.  Neither her body, nor her mind, nor her magical power. What could she possibly offerany male? 

All the nightmares she had on a near-daily basis? All the fear and anxiety that swirling around her gut every day? 

She could sew on any buttons he lost along the way, she supposed. That was something.

The knife that plunged into her womb and twisted, took her by surprise. 

It shouldn’t have.  

Of course. 6 months had passed once again. 

“Don’t tell him this either,” she begged in a whimper. This was too embarrassing. He didn’t need to know about her cycle. 

Nobody did. She was the most modest out of all her sisters. The one with the most human ideas of what was considered to be decent, left…the only one who…

The only one left with her maidenhead intact, because everybody else was mated or married or very much in love and it had never mattered in Prythian anyway. 

Just Eira was left. 

Without a mate. Without a husband. 

Without ever having even been kissed. Nearly 26 and that…hadn’t happened for her. 

It probably would never happen anyway. 

Why today of all days? 

Why did her cycle need to torture her today?  How did she deserve this? Why not in a week…Though at least now she had a reason not to leave her bed for a few days.  

She could just stay here. 

Mope in her own Misery and self-pity…wallow in the pain that she knew would come…

Of course, it would. She had always had a horrible time during her cycle even as a human…as a Fae, it had become her very own personal torture. 

Maybe a bath would make you feel better, the shadows suggested softly as she already curled herself together in pain. 

She needed to get up and sort herself out before it got even worse…made sure that she wouldn’t get blood all over the sheets, but she couldn’t…She didn’t want to. 

And a bath…A stab of pure fear.  

“It’s like the cauldron,” Eira whimpered. Just like the cauldron. 

She didn’t bathe…she used buckets of water…even years later…still standing water was not something she could stand. Not without being reminded of her humanity being ripped away and traded for whatever this existence was. 

What if we make sure that it isn’t? the shadows asked her softly. It will be nothing like the cauldron, we promise. 

A bath…a hot bath that would help against the soreness of her muscles…that would maybe ease the cramps…

It did sound nice. So nice. 

So Eira just weakly nodded. 

That seemed to be all the agreement the shadows needed as they whisked her to the bathing chamber, in the blink of an eye.

She watched as they flitted about the room, turning on the water, dotting candles around the room, making it brightly lit with faelight and candlelight both. 

Lots of foam and bubbles appeared in the bathtub as well as numerous concoctions being poured into the water. 

She slowly toed off her shoes and opened the laces of her dress. Eira hesitated and the shadows disappeared, letting her undress in privacy…letting her walk to the bathtub and test the temperature…stare at it for a moment. 

It couldn’t look less like the cauldron if it tried. 

She waited for a stab of fear but nothing came. 

So she slid into it, let the warm water envelope her, the perfect temperature… A few tendrils of shadows came to keep her company, touching her chin so that she tipped her head back and they started to wash her hair for her. 

Eira couldn’t even remember the last time anybody had done that for her. 

And they did that…without even asking…just…just for her. 

“Thank you,” Eira whispered, not daring to close her eyes, but staring at the ceiling. “Are you sure you don’t have anything more important to do?” she asked weakly. “Isn’t your master going to be angry at you?” She didn’t want them to get into any trouble, just because they…they were taking care of her. 

You don’t want Master to find out, so he won’t, they said easily. Would you like some pain potions? 

If they gave them to her, she wouldn’t need to walk downstairs and maybe face her sister or gods forbid, Rhysand…and ask them for Madja. 

Nobody would need to know. She could have her privacy and her dignity left intact. 

“Yes, please,“ she breathed in relief as the shadows poured something or other over her head. One shadow brought her a vial, wrapping around her wrist as she uncorked and downed it. 

A bitter taste but it left her blissedly numb and tired nearly immediately.

“What’s that?” She mumbled as they hushed her, massaging her head.

It tasted differently than whatever Madja usually gave her…telling her that pain and discomfort were normal and that her potions would ease it…It was like pouring a bucket of water over an inferno. 

While this…this was quenching everything. Leaving her numb. 

Just a rather strong pain potion, the shadows promised her. You’ll sleep for a bit…We’ll talk more then.

Sleep… Sleep sounded nice…

She didn’t even think about feeling self-conscious when they pulled her from the water, rinsed her off and wrapped her in warm, fluffy towels. 

They laid out her favourite nightgown so she only needed to pull it on and pull back the sheets of her bed so she could slide beneath it. 

Even a hot water bottle was waiting for her…

Everything so that she would be as comfortable as possible… everything for her.

“Thank you,” she whispered, tears pricking in her eyes as she climbed between her blankets, the shadows fluffing her pillow and pulling the blankets as high as they went. 

It was weird…to have the shadows doting on her, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. Eira was too selfish to protest this bit of attention…the only positive attention she had in years. 

They promised not to tell, so she wouldn’t either. Not when this was the sweetest thing anybody had ever done for her. 

She fell asleep between one breath and the next, safely and warmly ensconced in her bed. Deep dreamless sleep…When she woke, it must have been the middle of the night…and still, the shadows were there immediately. 

She whimpered at the cramps that were ransacking her body…and the growling of her stomach in hunger. 

She hated these cycles. Hated how weak they left her and how she wanted nothing more than to cease to exist. 

Are you hungry? You’ll need to eat before you can take another pain potion, the shadows told her worriedly. Not a lot, just a little bit, they promised. 

“I don’t want to go down into the kitchen,” she answered weakly, biting her lip. Not that she thought that she could safely traverse the staircase anyway. 

Eira just wanted to stay here…alone. Maybe with the shadows for company, as long as they wanted her…

We’ll get you something. What would you like? They assured her immediately. 

Everything in her body ached for something human, even when she knew that their food would taste like ash for her. She always wanted human things. The things she would never have again.  

“Maybe some soup?” Eira asked finally. “If that’s not too much trouble?” 

Of course not. 

They fluffed her pillows and helped her sit up…and then soup appeared…a bowl filled with clear broth with bits of vegetables and chunks of chicken and noodles…cooked to perfection…better than anything she could have ever produced and by the gods, she had tried…All of it, arranged on a tray, with two slices of perfect crusty bread and another pain potion. 

She took that first, and it made her pleasantly numb and tired…and so she weakly spooned as much soup as she could in her mouth afterwards… mopping up the last of her soup with the bread. 

She finished as much as she could before she was too tired and the shadows tucked her back into bed, curled up on her side…so they could fuss with her hair which was a mess as always. 

She felt like a child being fawned over and she couldn’t help but relax into it…let them do with her whatever they wished if they just kept being so…nice to her. 

Feeling better? they asked softly and she hummed. 

If you could be anything…do anything... what would it be? The shadows wondered quietly. The movements of them were lulling her to some space of safety and warmth and Eira considered the question. 

If she could have anything in the world…what would she want?

A heady question. 

“When I was…young,” she said softly… “I wanted a dashing knight to come rescue me, and whisk me away from that horrible cottage,” she said weakly. “That’s what I wanted since I was old enough to want anything.”

A stupid children’s dream. 

But sadly there were no knights in Prythian and even if there were any, they wouldn’t pick Eira. 

And now? The shadows pushed. 

“Somebody that loves me,”  she admitted quietly. “A husband…children.”

All of that…she wanted all of that. 

And she was never going to have it. 

We could find you a husband, the shadows finally said quietly. If that makes you happy…we could help you.

“Who could possibly want me?” Eira asked, her voice breaking. Who would want her? The answer was easy: Nobody. 

Only because Master is an idiot, doesn’t mean every male is, they told her tartly. 

She wanted to laugh but it ended in a sob. 

“He isn’t an idiot,” Eira disagreed. “He just knows that…I am not good enough for him.”

Not pretty enough, not smart enough…not enough period.

That’s ridiculous, the shadows hissed. 

It wasn’t. 

“He’s in love with my prettier twin sister,” Eira snapped. “I shouldn’t want him anyway. Why should I want to be his second or even third choice?  Maybe for once, I want to be somebody’s first choice! Maybe for once, I want to be treated like I matter! That my feelings matter…that I matter!” It burst out of her. The tears burned in her eyes at that admission. At…how unfair it was. 

What had she done to deserve this? What had she done? 

Eira immediately regretted that outburst though. “I am so sorry,” she blurted out.

They didn’t deserve to be pulled into her feeling unfairly treated. She should stop complaining. It wasn’t going to…

For what? the shadows snorted. You are absolutely right. You deserve to be somebody’s first choice. You deserve to be treated like you matter. 

She didn’t. 

Maybe you should go shopping, the shadows suggested with a sigh. The suggestion was so sudden that she stared at the tendril of shadow still wrapped around her wrist. 

“Why?” she asked with a sigh. 

The Morrigan does that if she feels bad. The shadows told her earnestly. Then she buys shoes and feels better. 

Ah. 

She highly doubted that shoes were going to solve any of her problems. A pretty pair of shoes wasn’t going to make anybody fall in love with her. Or want her. 

“What am I supposed to buy?” She asked quietly. “Just shoes?”

Stuff. The shadows answered easily. Whatever you want. Whatever makes you happy, they assured her. All your sisters have more stuff than you. You make them dresses and other things. But you never make yourself anything, the shadows said quietly. Nobody would say anything if you wanted things that are yours. 

Right. She had never bothered with that. Not after she had lost all her things together with her humanity…there had been some piles of necessities sent to them by Rhysand…and that had been that. 

She had never bothered to get more than that. She still wore those dresses of the very first weeks… and while she had made dresses for all three of her sisters…as human out of necessity, as Fae out of habit…she hadn’t made herself any in years.

Not since becoming Fae. Her new body felt…she hadn’t wanted to look at her new body for long enough to figure out how something should fit onto it. How it had changed….

These godforsaken ears were enough. 

Buy things for yourself. Like a new dress! Or earrings! Diamonds! The shadows suggested. Whatever you find pretty. 

“My ears aren’t pierced,” she said quietly, a yawn taking over her face. 

That brought them up short.

Master bought you pearl earrings, the shadows said suddenly, sounding perplexed. 

He had. Beautiful. Impersonal. Unwearable for her…a far cry from all the little trinkets he had given to Elain…

Still, for months she had stared at them and found them oh so beautiful…safely kept in their box in her drawer at her vanity table. 

Maybe that alone should have told her everything she needed to know about the state of Azriel’s affection for her. 

Namely it was non-existent when the spymaster of the night court didn’t even bother to check if she even wore earrings. 

And the earrings…well…they were only…one thing. Her room at the River Estate that she had been supposed to furnish to her liking…that was another. 

In the end, it had consisted out of her getting a set of the same bedroom furniture as every other guest room and her walls were painted cream like in every other room Feyre hadn’t gotten to yet. It was still as impersonal as it had been when she had moved in. 

She knew that Elain had stuff to litter her bookcases with…gifts from Azriel or Feyre or Lucien, her mate…even Eira had gifted her sister things. 

But all Eira had…were the dresses she had on commission laid out on her desk. Which she would need to return to the shop where she worked as a seamstress at soon enough once she was finished with her alteration on them…and well, that was it. 

No books, because her reading was absolutely atrocious…no little trinkets from any of her sisters…no paintings or art or anything really. 

Just…her sewing and embroidery supplies and that was that…and even these weren’t…held in one of these pretty little wooden sewing boxes on legs that would keep them tidily kept away…

Do you need money? The shadows asked her seriously. 

“What?” Eira asked weakly.

She made some money with her job. Not a lot…but some. All of it carefully stashed away to buy birthday or solstice gifts from…or little trinkets she saw in a shop and thought one of her sisters would like…that Nyx would like. 

Do you need money? They repeated patiently. To buy stuff? For yourself? 

“No, I have money. And I don’t want to owe anybody anything,” she answered quietly, her eyes slowly closing.

 She didn’t want to end like Nesta… were in the end, her habits were used to bludgeon her with…she didn’t…

You wouldn’t. The shadows assured her. We have our own line of credit. 

What? 

“How does that work? Do you have your own bank account?” she asked curiously, and she could nearly feel their amusement. 

We like playing the lottery. Everything we win, we put into Master’s Bank Account, they explained to her earnestly. He never uses it anyway. We could just put our winnings in yours instead. Master wouldn’t care.

It was so ridiculous that she couldn’t help but giggle. 

“Really?” she still asked weakly. 

Really! they assured her seriously. Enough for you to have a shopping spree! We like shiny things, they told her, making her laugh. Master never buys any. We’ll pick up some mail-order catalogues for you and then you can spend tomorrow ordering some things. Maybe some curtains to spruce things up a little. It’s awfully empty in here. 

Still, she couldn’t help but ask. 

“Why are you doing this?” 

Nobody should be treated like you are, they told her fiercely. Nobody should feel like they have no place anywhere.