#autumn answers
Note
So, here is my humble request 👀:
Reader is afab Illyrian, got her wings clipped (because we hate this tradition that’s why and because I am too much into enemies to lovers) and the Bat Boys consider her something close to a little sister.
When Eris was making a deal with the NC to get their help to kill Beron and that shit, his bond snapped with reader.
Obviously problematic for him because he has been insulting Illyrians since his mom popped him out about 500+ years ago.
So…bonus points for: smut obvs.- go as filthy as you like, Lucien absolutely mocking Eris for FUMBLING desperately to get his charm going, reader being oblivious.
I hope this sparks some ideas and creativity 🥰🤞🏻
Would That I -- Part 1
A/n: This was too good not to make into a multi-part fic, so expect more soon. Smut will be coming!
Pairing: Eris X Illyrian!Reader
Warnings: Allusions to smut, pining, mentions of mental health
Word Count: 3,638
Summary: You hate him. You hate the very thought of him. And yet he's your mate. The Mother has a cruel sense of humour.
Part 2 Part 3
Fury rippled through your body like a forest fire. You were livid. And Cassian had the nerve to laugh at you. Well, stifle a laugh. Rhysand was watching him with a worried look as he tried to give him a silent warning to stop. This progressed to warning him mind to mind when you got up from the sofa, flinging a pillow so far it almost landed into the fireplace. Azriel flinched.
“Him!?” You seethed, finally breaking the silence you had kept since your return from that damned High Lord meeting. Cassian snorted softly and you rounded on him with a deathly calm. Rhys made a small noise in the back of his throat.
“Is this funny to you, brother? I’m shackled to that evil, pompous, ginger-haired freak and you’re laughing?” His smile had dropped and a look of fear was quickly overcoming his rugged features. You stepped closer to him, your finger in his face. “Don’t sleep too deeply tonight.”
Rhysand cleared his throat.
“Look, this doesn’t have to be the end of the world. You don’t have to accept the bond. We can make sure you never see him again.” The bond snarled through you at that and you growled.
“Sure Rhys, because you were so calm when you found out Feyre was your mate.”
His brow furrowed.
“So you want to be with Eris?” The name seemed to physically disgust him. Azriel scoffed, abruptly rising from the sofa and marching out of the room. Cassian eyed the doorway in his wake. You turned to Rhys.
“No!” You groaned in frustration, pacing up and down on the carpet like a caged animal. Cassian’s eyes darted between Rhys and you. Finally deciding to break things up he manhandled you into a hug. You fought it for a few moments, before giving up and collapsing into your brothers embrace, hot angry sobs wrenching through you. Rhys took this as his cue to leave, and winnowed—probably to his office—out of the room. Cassian rubbed soothing circles on your back, careful to avoid your wings that were ever more sensitive after the clipping.
You were clipped at thirteen, which is how you had come to live with the three brothers. In Windhaven, they clipped your wings the day you started your cycle. Once grounded there was no escaping your duties, nor any chance to leave the camp. Unless, of course, you had grown close with the High Lord’s son, who had a mother with a habit of collecting strays.
You were there through all of it, the highs, the lows, and Morrigan’s tumultuous relationship with one Eris Vanserra. The male you were now mated to.
---
In the Forest House, Eris was pacing. His throat was still sore from the memory of Azriel’s scarred hand, and his cheek burned from the slap that had earned him from his father. But all of that had been overshadowed. He knew as soon as he saw you. His heart had lurched in his chest so hard he had thought he might throw up. You were the most beautiful female he had ever laid his eyes on. And of course, you were from the Night Court. The Mother truly did have a cruel sense of humour.
You had walked in, looking as arrogant as the rest of them, sharing a secret smile with the shadowsinger before sitting down next to the High Lord. Eris, next to his mother, couldn’t rip his eyes from you. Your doe eyes, sharp and intelligent captured his attention first. He wanted nothing more than to get lost in them, to find out everything about you: What you liked to read, your favourite food, how best to pleasure you and have you screaming his name. He was pulled from his fantasies by your wings. Cauldron, your magnificent wings. Their beauty stole breath from his lungs as they unfurled, getting comfortable on the chair. You had smiled at Feyre, warm and supportive, and Eris knew he was utterly lost.
He finally stopped his pacing, locked inside his room, and sat down on the edge of his bed. He sat there, holding his head in his hands until he heard the scratch of claws at the door. Getting up with a weary sigh, he opened it only to be knocked to the ground by his oldest and most loyal smokehound.
“Cheddar.” He chided as she licked his face excitedly. “Cheddar Biscuit.” He said, sternly, and she leapt off of him, waiting by the door expectantly.
“Yes alright, I suppose it’s time for a walk.” Cheddars tail thumped faster against the door frame and Eris couldn’t help the smile that grew. “Go and fetch your brothers and sisters then.” He said, grabbing the leashes off the wall. A walk was one way to clear his mind.
---
As you had predicted, Rhys was holed up in his office when you went looking for him. He barely looked up at you as you entered.
Rhysand’s office was always meticulously organised, but as you came up behind his chair you noticed how messy his desk had become. Letters and notes were piled on every inch of space, his childhood stuffed bat sitting atop one pile as a makeshift paperweight.
He loosed a breath.
“We are going to war, Y/n.” He said quietly, and any thoughts of Eris Vanserra eddied from your mind. Rhys looked up at you with bloodshot eyes. Guilt coursed through you for ever caring about something as trivial as a mating bond when you and your brothers were set for battle. You had only just got Rhys back from under the mountain, only to potentially lose him again.
“Is it certain?” You asked, leaning down to rest your head on his shoulder.
“Yes.”
“Is Cass--?”
“Leaving for Windhaven by first light.” He answered.
“Ok.”
Rhys turned, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. He knew what you were thinking, though you wished you weren’t.
“Eris is an awful male, Y/n. You know I could never support the bond between you. Azriel is...well, I’m sure you already know.”
You did. The moment he had stormed out of the room you had known this was the beginning of a negative spiral for Az. Not to mention the upcoming war. You stood up straight.
“That being said.” Rhys continued. “Eris is ensuring Autumn allies with us against Hybern. There is a certain political advantage to the match.”
You scoff.
“Like there was with Mor?” Rhys turned green. “What did Eris bargain for in return for Autumn’s support? What did you trade away, Rhys?”
Rhysand looked every bit five centuries old when he turned to you.
“Our support in his bid for the throne. Whenever that may be.”
Hatred for the male burst anew in your gut, fiercer still now that you were mated to him.
“That power hungry bastard.” You spat.
Rhysand sighed.
“He could never deserve you, starlight. I will make sure that he never sees you again. I will not lose another sister.”
---
It wasn’t until midnight that you saw Azriel. The last of your brothers to approach you. He let himself into your room, waking you, tattered blanket draped around his shoulders. Rhys’ mother had sewn it for him years ago, before you had come to live with them. It had helped him through many hard nights. So much so that it was threadbare and faded. Rhys had enchanted it not to break further as a solstice gift one year.
You sat up worried.
“Az? Are you ok? You didn’t—”
“No,” He assured, and you relaxed against the pillows, “I’m ok.”
You shuffled over in your bed to make space for him, and he laid next to you, blanket over the both of you.
“I hate him.” He said into the darkness. “I hate what he did to Mor. I hate everything he stands for. I will not let him have you.” He declared.
You snuggled up to your eldest brother.
“I don’t know why you all seem convinced I’m going to somehow fall for this prick.” You said, and he snorted. “I hate him as much as you do.”
Azriel tucked you under his arm.
“I know.” You smiled tiredly, somehow understanding the words Azriel left unsaid. The words Rhys had been able to express. Azriel’s shadows settled over your heart, confirming, and the two of you fell asleep.
---
Months later, Eris sat in a tent, head between his legs to stop from throwing up. Thousands were dead. Thousands more were surely destined to die. Two of his brothers, and his mate, fought on the battlefield.
He only had a moments warning before he was violently sick into a bucket.
Asher, his youngest brother before Lucien, chose this moment to enter his tent unannounced, scowling at the sight of Eris hunched over and retching.
“Can’t handle the bloodshed, brother?” He teased, though he sat next to Eris and put a warm hand on his shoulder. The gaping wound on his neck was healing quickly, as it should with the High Lords power coursing through his veins, but the sight of it set Eris off again. He heaved into the bucket, choosing to ignore the gagging sound Asher made.
“Eris you need to pull yourself together. Father is only a tent over.”
Eris rolled his eyes.
“Just show me your plans, Ash.”
“I don’t know, maybe I’m better off keeping them to myself, seeing as you’re battlesick.” Asher grimaced when Eris finally sat up and pushed the bucket away from him.
“Asher.” Eris’ voice held all the command of General, and eldest brother. Asher groaned petulantly as he handed over the plans.
In Eris’ opinion, not that Beron took any heed, Asher should never have taken on as much responsibility in this war. After Ceres had died, Ash had taken over as Eris’ right hand. Ceres had been more naturally suited to the role, Beron’s bloodlust had run as deep as his bones, and he had a sharp mind for strategy. Eris still mourned the boy he had raised—a quick witted, chess loving, boisterous child—but he had to accept, he had lost Ceres long before he had died. And Eris wasn’t keen on losing anyone else. Asher wasn’t comfortable with a sword, the gash in his neck clear evidence, and he had a wife and child that weakened his resolve. This is what Eris had to work with. And he had a job to do.
He let Asher discuss his plans, though he was unable to rip his mind from providing a hundred different ways that he could die, that Ash or Lucien could die, that you could die.
It took every ounce of training ingrained in him not to falter in his attack the moment he had caught sight of you, fighting your way through the onslaught, Mor by your side. Cauldron, you were ethereal. Your silken wings were spread as if they could carry you into the air, though he had long since guessed that they could not. You cut through your enemies with a frightening ease. Catching his eye, you hesitated just a second, then your face had turned to rage and the next Hybern soldier to cross your path had been beheaded so brutally that even he had to avert his gaze.
When he had looked back up, you were gone, lost in the chaos.
Asher sighed,
“You’re not listening.” He said, and Eris had the decency to feel bad. He looked at Ash wearily.
“Come back in the morning. I’ll be more attentive.” Ash just peered at him over his notes.
“It’s her isn’t it. It’s Y/n.”
“Yes.” Eris said, lacking the energy to lie.
“She’s Night Court. She’s not one of us. One day you’ll find a nice Autumn girl to marry and when you’re High Lord she can pop out a few Autumn court babies.”
“She is my mate.” Eris growled.
“Mate’s aren’t always meant to be Eris. It’s only a biological match, not a political one. When you find an Autumn Court lady you’ll wonder why you ever spent time worrying over some Night Court harlot.” Eris snarled, despite himself. His brothers words were wrenched straight from Beron’s throat and he wouldn’t stand for it. Not from Asher. Not from his kind, loving Ash.
“Get out.” He said. Asher looked surprised, and—Eris was pleased to see—ashamed. He made no moves to leave, so Eris repeated himself, sharper this time.
“Get out.” He snapped, “Come back in the morning with more sense.”
Asher, chastised, fled from the tent, and Eris buried his head in his hands. What use was there protecting you from his brothers when it was certain your own said the same about him. There was no denying the cruel twist of fate the Mother had pulled on the both of you, destined to crash and burn. He imagined you in your own tent, laughing at the thought of him speared on another males sword. Mor sat next to you whispering all the terrible things he had done that day, terrible things to twist your mind and poison the very notion of him. He was too late, he was nothing but soot in the deep pit of your heart, choking the both of you.
He felt blindly for the bond, and found it, rotten.
---
The war was over, but the scars it had left were red raw and bleeding. Rhys had died. Your brother. The one who had sheltered you, loved you, given you a home and a family for a few agonising minutes had been gone. Gone. And yet that Cauldron damned bond had been chafing in the back of your mind. You sat in your bedroom riddled with guilt as it plagued your mind. Eris. Eris. Eris. He infested your mind, your senses, you were consumed by the very thought of him.
Walking through the streets of Velaris had started to feel claustrophobic, being around anyone beginning to suffocate you. You felt safer on your own. Recently you had taken to sheltering in your room, only emerging to eat. Your brothers eyed you with poorly concealed worry every time you walked, ghostlike, through the house, shuffling to the kitchen to fix a plate of leftovers then retreat hastily to your safe space.
Nesta was struggling too, after the war. It had left its scars in all of you. You could feel Cassian’s heart breaking the day Rhys sent her away with him, but all you could think about was whether your brother would do that to you. You thought you knew the looks he gave you.
Disgust.
What use was a flightless Illyrian female, who couldn’t train, couldn’t talk, couldn’t think. He was dead. Rhys was dead. And then he wasn’t. Why were Seren and your mother not afforded the same luxury. You grieved, and cried, and screamed. It truly was a sick thing, to use to the miracle of Rhys’ living to guilt yourself into believing there was hope for them. But then, everything in your mind had twisted of late.
Nesta began training. Nesta began healing. And you were stuck in your room.
Every morning without fail, Azriel came to check on you. He stroked your hair until you woke up, then retreated when you once again rejected his invitations to join them. The Valkyries, they were calling themselves. You would have been proud of Nesta if you could feel anything anymore.
Occasionally, you could feel a light tug on the bond, on the shackles that kept you bound to Eris. The first few times you had thrown up. Now it was little more than an annoyance. You were his dog, disobediently pulling your leash as you fell further and further into nothingness. His face in your mind was as cold as it had been on the battlefield as he yanked you back, choking you. You spluttered. Standing weakly, you made your way down to the kitchen, setting water on the stove to boil.
“Sister.” Cassian’s voice rang out behind you and you flinched, dropping your teaspoon. He bent to pick it up and set it down on the counter. “Azriel says you’ve been ignoring him. You’ve been ignoring all of us.”
You shrugged, the familiar pang of guilt squeezing your chest, making it difficult to breath. You braced both hands on the counter top, taking a ragged breath. Cassian was beside you in a heartbeat, holding you in his arms.
“Y/n, I’m worried about you. We all are.” He squeezed you closer to him, closer than you had allowed anyone in months. “Come and stay with Nes and I. Az is a terrible chaperone, and I need to see you. You could be wasting away down here and I wouldn’t know until it was too late.”
You shook your head, though you no longer knew why you resisted him. Your body melted against him, muscle memory taking over as he enveloped you in his wings. You swore you heard him sniffling as you hugged him back.
“Please, y/n.” He said, voice shaking. It didn’t take much more convincing.
A few days later, Rhys was helping you unpack your bags in your new room in the House of Wind. You took the room next to Azriel, who—Cassian had explained—was falling into bad habits again: Not eating, not sleeping, waking up in a cold sweat when he did finally drop off. Cassian wasn’t doing as well as he wanted you to believe, either. Twice in the following week you woke up to find him taking things from your room. And once, when you had floated downstairs in a miserable haze, you found him throwing up in the kitchen sink, an empty plate that had once held a batch of Elain’s cookies sitting on the table.
Nesta had dragged you to Valkyrie training a few times, and whilst you were beyond their current skill level, it had taken your mind off of things. Cassian’s eyes gleamed with pride everytime Nesta mastered an attack or a block. He touched her affectionately, he teased her, he lingered as she passed to breath in her scent. Watching them together was as painful as it was sweet. How simple love could be.
Would that you could be half as lucky.
Slowly you were emerging from your shell. You could smile again. Nesta invited you to read with her and the Valkyries, and in the silence you found firm friendship. Emerie was a gift from the Mother herself. You bonded instantly, both of you clipped, grounded, but neither broken. Many late nights were spent talking, about books, your brothers, or about Eris. Nesta, Emerie and Gwyn knew little of the Autumn prince, but you appreciated their outside perspective on the bond. It was still a bitter taste in your mouth, but it was becoming more bearable with each passing week.
---
There was a ball approaching in the Hewn City and Rhys had asked Nesta to attend. Not long after, she asked you to join her.
“I can’t do this alone, Y/n, please.” She said one night, sitting at the end of your bed. You bit your lip, unsure.
“Eris will be there.” You said.
“I’ll be the one dancing with him. Rhys wants him falling madly in love with me. He won’t look your way, I promise.” Nesta said. You knew she meant well by that. You had never wanted him anywhere near you before. But something about her oath left a sting. You frowned, which she took to mean you were still unconvinced.
“Please, Y/n. My sisters will be there, Rhys will be there. I’m not ready to face them all on my own, not yet.”
And so you found yourself stood atop the stairs the following week, draped in a black dress with a slit so high up one side your whole leg was practically exposed. The back scooped so low the dimples at the bottom of your spine peeked over top. You were devastating. Death in midnight silk. Rhys’ smile was that of pure brotherly pride as you walked down the steps, your hair pinned in braids and curls.
Nesta stole your breath away as she appeared in the hallway, but it wasn’t your gaze she sought out. You looked towards Cassian and could have sworn he was drooling. Eris would be blind-sided by her, of that you had no doubt.
In the Hewn City, they danced like lovers. Nesta as dangerous in the ballroom as she had become on the training grounds. Every move was calculated, every parting of her lips a dance of the mind, designed to ensnare Eris in her dastardly web. Eris was caught. And you burned.
Standing next to Azriel, heat rolled off you in waves. He took a step towards you, perhaps to offer you a drink, but found something in your eyes to make him change his mind. You hadn’t taken your eyes off of Eris all night. He was sinful. A courtier and a Prince. His hair pooled over his shoulders, one strand to the front neatly braided. You reminded yourself that this was the male that left your cousin for dead at his Court border. Biting your lip, your mind wandered to see yourself lying prone beneath him as he stood, smile widening, cock hardening in his—
“Get me a drink.” You ordered Az. He raised an eyebrow.
“What’s the magic word.”
“Azriel.” You growled, and he turned on his heel. Your eyes stayed pinned on Eris as he led Nesta across the dancefloor in a tantalizing waltz. His gaze finally met yours, and you saw a fraction of surprise before his emerald eyes darkened. He licked his lips, eyes locked with yours as he leaned down, and pressed a kiss to Nesta’s neck.
A/N: I have to thank @fandomsmultiverse for talking to me and giving me about 100 ideas to flesh this story out, I really hope you like it! There will be a part 2 coming soon! I wouldn't just leave you on a cliffhanger like that. We will see more of Eris and Reader interacting, and maybe.....some smut...
#eris x reader#acotar x reader#acotar#acotar fanfiction#autumn answers#autumn writes#eris smut#eris angst#eris vanserra#eris vandaddy#azriel shadowsinger#night court#rhys acotar#rhysand#cassian acotar#cassian#cassian x reader#rhys x reader#azriel x reader#azriel smut#azriel acotar#azriel#fanfic#writing#enemies to lovers#angst#acotar smut#smut#eris acotar#eris headcanons
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HEY I MISS U MY FAVE ARTIST!! when will u draw baldwin again😔🤲
my fav medieval couple with that 12th-century drip
#historical accuracy? she doesn't go here#autumn answers#art#illustration#historical series#'From Eden' series#baldwin iv#lady atefeh salahuddin (oc)#artists on tumblr#digital art#character art#kingdom of heaven 2005
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Hey, autumn! How are you? Just wanna say thank you for introducing me to soldier boy, cause fuck me the fics you reblogging are amazing and even though I’ve never seen the show you've given me a huge crush on him. Also, I'm planning on writing the soldier drabble soon and was wondering what ideas you have. I was thinking along the line of either a soldier that keeps a pretty housewife under lock and key as payment for his service or a solider looking after a politicians innocent daughter and he just can’t help himself. Anyway! Can’t wait to hear your thoughts and by the way I love your writing and look forward to the next one (no rush though!) love ya!
Sorry this took me more than a week to answer, I was busy with stuff.
I’m fine, how are you?
And no problem about those Soldier Boy fics, I was looking up yandere soldier x reader when I came across from him. I’ve seen him a round but never got into it, till that time. I was just Like “why not 🤷🏾♀️”. And I literally fell in love. And this was before I watched the show, and when I did watch the show, it was only the third season and almost skipped every scene until Soldier Boy showed up 😂, so no worries.
You should definitely do it! I really love the idea he takes in a politician’s sweet, innocent daughter as a gift of service and he keeps her locked in his house, like you said “under lock and key”. I can imagine the soldier being a traditional man, same with the reader. He is definitely the type in school to bother the girl he likes, intimidate and coerce her into a relationship with him. But in this case, she was gifted to him and he sure as hell keeping her till their last drawn breathe. He’s defiantly the grumpy, mean but means well type. It’ll take her awhile to understand him, like (one grunt = no, two grunts = yes). Would definitely prefer to have boys over girls, to have “someone carry his name”. Like they have a bunch of boys and that one girl, and he was disappointed that she wasn’t a boy, but she would literally become his pride and joy. His little princess. Like it’s her prom, and her date sits across from her father, as he watches the soldier nonchalantly take apart and clean his rifles.
Hoped you liked! Once again, sorry for taking long to answer, I always want to send you asks myself, but I always send them in when you’re busy when you’re not able to write a long intricate answer back, so I’ll be feeling bad 😭😭😭.
#autumnworldblackgirl#tw yandere#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere blog#oc maded by autumn#yandere man#yandere oc#yandere prompts#yanderecore#autumn’s thoughts#autumn answers#mae :)
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On a scale of 1 to 10 how good are Sir Al's hugs and why
Oh this is a really good question I love this thank you for asking
I'd say Al's hugs are definitely a solid 10 out of 10. As long as you're comfortable with it, the man can hug you like he hasn't seen you in years, even if it's only been a little while since you actually last saw him. Like I'm talking real good bear hugs.
What's better is depending on what he knows you're like he'll vary the way he hugs you. Don't like too much physical contact? No problem, just a quick shoulder hug will do just fine! Had a rough day and need a hug? Of course! He's not letting go till you let go!
Bonus points: I'd imagine he runs quite warm, which admittedly isn't as great in the summer but it makes for AMAZING hugs during the colder months.
Another bonus, here’s a visual depiction:
#Can you tell I've thought about this quite a bit KHDKDJ#Everyone deserves a hug from Sir A#autumn's rambles#autumn answers
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any tips for a newfound maybe-girl who also wants to be a good drone asset? I've been having trouble finding the right kind of inductions and media to actually enter drone space, and unfortunately the headset and suit and such aren't a possibility for me at present.
Thanks for reaching out!!
With many communities involving dronification, it is important to recognize that is simply what they are—kinks and roleplaying. People make up these communities and (although try as we might!) most of us aren’t really the robots we are trying to depict.
That out of the way, if you do want engage with dronification, there’s certainly a lot of ways you can go about it.
I believe a fair amount of people in the drone community put on a sense of corporate or otherwise worldwide domination that seeks to dronify individuals. Others might prefer small hives. Others also can be a single drone who’s not part of any established hive. Make it your best experience.
The costume certainly plays a big part for a lot of people. When they cover up most or all of their skin with an opaque shiny black outfit, it becomes a lot easier for them to enter a different headspace where they don’t really imagine themselves as quite human anymore.
That being said, there isn’t a certain way you have to act or dress. The catsuit, headphones, and gas mask are not a necessity if you don’t want/don’t have the means to acquire them. Plus, that’s not the only thing you have to wear. Anything is perfectly fine.
To get involved, I would suggest yk, just interacting with people’s content, follow them, and if you feel confident enough, you can always make your own content too. I don’t have the most experience with hypnosis, so I’m not really able to help with that aspect. But I take a lot of inspiration from various sci-fi media.
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Hello!
Will the mouse trap have a second part?
I really loved the angst <3
if people enjoy the first part, i would consider writing a second part (:
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Freeze 🛑 You’re under arrest for being so lovely. Copy this message to 10 other blogs that you think are beautiful and deserve it. Keep the game going and make others feel beautiful.
<3 🪱
asdfghjgjkjhkj RAE!!! thank you beloved! i hope you know you're just as lovely!
#Autumn Answers#i'm so sorry to get to this so late but i'm here!#sending you lots of love and affection beloved mother of worm vibe!
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hey, you forgot to tag correctly your Sirius fic, you didn't mention the incest in the warning tags or did you forget that the Blacks and Lestranges are family too? 💀
uhm. as far as i remember, the blacks and lestranges became a 'family' after bellatrix' wedding to rodolphus. bellatrix was sirius' cousin. anyways staying true to the request, specifically specified that the reader is pureblood, and slytherin, i chose the lestrange family line.
i have that shit up my pairing tag. if people don't want to read they can just scroll.
so could you.
and anyways, canonically most of the pureblood families were based on incest so do what you will. also there's literally no 'romantic' stuff happening in the fic.
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Ooooh your header picture is so pretty!!!
Aww, thank you! It's not actually a photo I took, but a free stock photo I found at this website. It fit so well with my preferred autumn palette, I had to use it. 🍂 Plus the leaves kind of look like clothes drying on a line. 😄
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Would That I -- Part 11
A/N: God this took me aaages to get to a point where I liked it. But here we goooo, finally some interaction between reader and Eris! Thank you so much for your support on Part 1, there will be one more part after this. I hope you enjoy! Based on an amazing ask from @fandomsmultiverse who has the best ideas.
Pairing: Eris x Illyrian!Reader
Warnings: Swearing, masturbation (male), oral sex
Word count: 5k
Part 1 Part 3
Were you jealous?
You could have thrown the letter into the fire. There was no need for a signature for you to know exactly who it was from, and you seethed. After he had kissed her neck, Eris had proposed to Nesta. Proposed. And yet here he was, writing letters, crawling back to you. Imagining him on his hands and knees, grovelling, soothed the hurt somewhat.
You re-read the letter again and again, losing yourself in ever worsening fantasies of Eris begging at your feet.
How dare he.
It stung all the more knowing your answer, deep down, was yes. Knowing that when you had locked eyes with your mate—your mate—all you could feel was the cold sting of envy. He was yours. You hated him. You needed him. You wanted him dead.
You crumpled the letter, then unfurled it and put it in a box, kicking it under your bed.
Cauldron damn and burn him.
The next week you received another letter.
Your silence tells me everything, little fox. And here I was thinking that you hated me. Send my regards to Lucien, I hear he has taken to sheltering in your dingy court.
You huffed an angry breath. But you read it over and over, searching for something. Something to be truly mad about. You came up short. Lucien was spending more and more time at the house of wind these days. Avoiding Elain. You had found a firm friendship trying to help him settle more in Velaris. Cauldron knows your brothers weren’t doing enough to help.
You found him in the living room, reading.
“Your brother sends his regards.” You said, watching intently for his reaction. His metal eye whirred as he looked up from his book.
“Hello to you too.” He said after a pause. “Which brother?”
“Eris.”
“Ah.”
You waited for him to say something more, but it never came. You sat down next to him biting your fingernail, debating whether to let him see the letter.
“Read this. Please.” You said, thrusting it into his hands. He read it, looked up at you, then back down at the letter. His lips curled into a grin.
“Oh, he’s practically begging for you.” He said, still grinning. You scoffed and grabbed the letter from his hands.
“He hates me. And I hate him.” You said decidedly. Lucien stifled a laugh with the back of his hand.
“Ok. So he’s writing you letters for you to...burn, I presume? Just to get you all riled up?” He bit his lip when he saw your murderous expression. “My brother wouldn’t be writing to you if he wasn’t interested in you. Rhysand told me about the ball, about how you were staring.”
“He proposed to Nesta that night, not me.” You said.
“Ah, so you are jealous.” Lucien teased. You growled.
“You are not helping.”
“Sorry.” He apologised, though he didn’t look remorseful, “I don’t know what you want me to say. My brother ruined my life, forced me to watch my love be killed and now he’s mated to someone who hates him. Seems like fair retribution. Send him my love of course.”
He was joking, but you saw through his mask of indifference. His unharmed eye revealed much more than you suspected he knew. He was pleading to speak to his brother. Despite your better judgement, you resolved to write Eris back, if only for Lucien’s sake. Excusing yourself to your room, you picked up your pen and paper.
Lucien sends his love in return. In future, if you wish to speak with your brother I suggest you contact him directly.
It disappeared into the ether and you stared at your desk. Another letter landed in front of you before you could get up. You blinked in surprise. You had spent so long hating this male that you had never spoken directly, reports of his cruelty coming second hand, and yet here he was, his handwriting so hurried you could have sworn he was excited you had written back.
Unlike you, Lucien would burn his letters. I will let myself believe Lucien sent his love sincerely, please let him know I wish to see him. I also wish to invite you to dine with me.
Why in all the realms would I dine with you?
You are my mate, are you not? It has snapped for you also. I saw how you stared at the ball. Nesta is a beautiful female, but you should know I am not the unfaithful type.
You have no one to be faithful to.
You wrote back, cruelty flowing onto the paper. It felt good for a moment, before the bond soured it. You stared at the letters piling up with increasing disdain. Who did he think he was, acting as if you were already his. His reply popped onto your desk moments later.
There you are, unfortunately, most correct, little fox.
---
Eris spent the next few days in agony. He had never expected you to write back, but after seeing the hunger in your eyes that night… If there was any chance you had changed your mind about him, he would be in the Night Court in a heartbeat. Rhysand had been keeping all diplomatic matters at arms length, not allowing any visitation into Velaris. Eris was no stranger to the territorial behaviour of a male with a pregnant wife.
On that note, he was supposed to be shopping to find a gift for his nephew today. He whistled for Cheddar, who brought along Lulu, his youngest. Eris rolled his eyes.
“Ok, Lulu can come too if she must. But both of you will have to be on a short lead.” He said, mostly to himself, but Cheddar cocked her head in an inquisitive gesture that made Eris grin, rubbing her head with both hands.
He was in a small toy shop, full of handmade stuffed bears and wooden doll houses, when the letter appeared unceremoniously in his hands. Excusing himself outside, he slunk into a nearby alleyway to read it.
Lucien has agreed to see you.
Was all it read. His heart leapt into his throat. He scribbled a response on a scrap of spare paper in his pocket and it vanished from his hands before he had time to regret it. The response was immediate.
Rhysand will allow you in Velaris for two hours under strict supervision from Lucien. Tomorrow at noon.
Eris tried to catch his breath, not wanting to admit to himself how overjoyed he was that his baby brother wanted to see him. Not only that, but he was granted permission to enter the Night Court, Velaris for that matter, where you would surely be. He pet Lulu gently, grounding himself. Now to think of an excuse as to why he would be absent from Court tomorrow. In the shop, he picked out a soft brown bear with a doe eyed expression, letting himself believe it was because his nephew loved bears, and not because its glossy eyes reminded him of you.
Beron took the lie surprisingly well; any dealings with the Night Court were beneficial to Autumn, which was dangerously close to having few allies in Prythian. Beron liked Kier, and whilst he looked down on them, appreciated the brutality of the Illyrian armies. Night would be a strong ally indeed. If only he knew exactly where their loyalties lay.
Eris laid in bed, the window ajar, unable to sleep, thinking of you. His mind straying to that night in the Hewn City, how you looked in your silken gown, back deliciously low to show off your magnificent wings. You had been downright sinful, and he had had to remind himself to keep his eyes on Nesta, who, whilst stunning, held no candle to you that night. Not to him. He ran a hand down his chest as his cock stirred.
Memories consumed him. The heat of the ballroom. Trailing his eyes all the way up the slit in your dress, dragging his gaze to the top of your thigh, no panty line visible. His hand grasped his cock through his slacks as he imagined peeling the fabric back to reveal your unclothed cunt, and he squeezed hard as he saw himself drop to his knees.
“No panties?” His voice was husky. You gave a coy smile,
“Wanted you to have me, Eris.” You breathed. “Wanted you to taste how much I need you.”
Unbuttoning his slacks and freeing his cock, Eris hissed as he pumped his already dripping length. Your pussy would make a delectable mess of your thighs, drooling just for him. He licked his lips and fucked his hand harder as he fantasised. Your moans would be music to his ears as he messily ate you out, tongue laving across your swollen clit, sucking and nibbling as your thighs shook with pleasure.
Debauched sounds filled the room, the wet shlick of his cock becoming the squelching wetness of your pussy as he finally sunk his fingers deep inside of you. He wanted your hands in his hair. He wanted to guide you down onto the floor so that he could feast on you properly, drink you down, consume you. You would cry out, just the thought of it had him squeezing the base of his cock to keep from cumming too soon. His hips bucked into his fist at a punishing pace, his eyes screwed shut and head thrown back in pleasure.
The bond was thrumming like drums in his chest, heightening every feeling as his thick member pulsed, spurting precum into his hand. It didn’t take long until he growled, his whole body tensing and his cock painting his stomach white with his seed. When he groaned out in pained pleasure, it was your name on his lips.
---
You stood by Lucien’s side, the redhead almost vibrating with nervousness.
“Remind me why I let you talk me into this?” He asked. You smiled gently, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Because you want to see him. I could tell the moment I gave you that letter. You’re happy he still thinks of you.”
“It’s complicated.” He groused, “We haven’t spoken properly in decades. What if—what if he’s not the male I remember?” You felt your heart break at Lucien’s words, cursing yourself for meddling in his relationships. You just wanted to see him. Once more. To confirm that your hatred was justified. But you pushed that aside, feeling terrible for dragging Lucien into your little game.
“Lucien, he’s your brother. I know you haven’t been feeling so settled here lately, I think seeing him will do you some good.” It was the best you could do, unable to tell him for certain that the Eris you knew was the same doting brother he had told you about. You squeezed his arm and were relieved to feel him relax.
“Will you stay with me, just for a bit?” He asked. You wanted to say no, but you couldn’t, not to Lucien. You smiled at him gently.
“Of course I will. Just don’t expect me to have anything nice to say.” He laughed, but his bright smile faded as he spotted Eris walking up the path, escorted by a deadly looking Azriel. Your breath caught in your chest when you saw your mate, impeccably dressed and ruggedly handsome. Your eyes lingered for a moment too long. Azriel shot you a warning glare, then winnowed away. Eris, finally free of his chaperone, looked at Lucien and you felt nervousness wash down the bond. He dug in his bag and pulled out two small boxes.
“Lucien.” He said.
“Eris.”
“Mother baked apple cinnamon biscuits. They are—were your favourite.” He handed one of the boxes to Lucien, who took it with so much care it could have contained something much more valuable.
Eris turned to you, “I also brought you something.”
Surprised, you were handed a little box of your own. You peeked inside and heat rushed to your cheeks. A small dagger, with jewel encrusted hilt lay on a bed of luxurious velvet. A courting gift. You looked at him incredulously. He was here to see his brother, he hated the very thought of you, why in all the realms was he bringing you courting gifts.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” You frowned, looking down at the dagger as if it had offended you.
“Usually they’re used for stabbing people.” Eris said, with a mask of cool calm betrayed by a tightness in your chest that didn’t belong to you, “But I suppose it would make a pretty kitchen accessory, should you wish.” He quipped. You rolled your eyes.
“I am not a housewife.” You sneered.
“No. That’s not what—” Lucien cleared his throat and saved you from whatever Eris was about to say next.
“Let me show you around Velaris.” He said, diffusing the tension. “It’s not often outsiders are allowed to just waltz in.”
“Of course,” Eris said, “Will you be joining us?” He asked. You shook your head.
“I will spare you the agony, Vanserra.” You turned to leave, but looked back at Lucien, “Do not let him out of your sight. Rhys will have my head if he does anything stupid.”
As soon as you were a few feet away you felt you could breathe easily again. The bond had been simmering, thrilled at your proximity to your mate. It was a constant buzzing and humming in your chest. You were relieved you could no longer feel it, and made sure to send that feeling loud and clear down the connection between you and your mate.
---
In the following three days you received: A small wheel of cheese, a bouquet of marigolds and a pair of amber earrings. Lucien couldn’t stop laughing when he presented you with the cheese, but it had been amazing with some salt and pepper crackers that evening.
You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt when Lucien came the next day with another box. He was grinning wildly, barely stifling his laughter.
“I think this might be the worst one yet.” He said, thrusting the box into your hands, “Please open it.”
Eris had been sending the gifts through Lucien, and, like the letters, you had been hiding them from the rest of your family. It felt bad, going behind your brothers backs. But they could never find out that Eris was attempting to court you, for his sake and theirs. Lucien and Eris had managed to start talking again, over the constant gifts and letters. As annoying as it was, you were glad some good had come of it. Though he hadn’t been allowed in the Night Court again.
Lucien was practically rocking on his heels. Inside the box was a knitted headband. It was poorly made, full of holes and oddly misshapen. You frowned.
“What is this?” You looked to Lucien for an explanation but he was doubled over. He took a ragged breath.
“I told him not to send it. I told him it was a shit gift.” He managed before he was wheezing with laughter again. You inspected the headband.
“Did...did Eris make this?” Lucien simply nodded through his tears. You blinked.
“I don’t want these gifts. Please tell him to stop wasting his time.” It felt cruel. But your mind flashed to his lips on Nesta’s neck, his emotionless eyes during the battle with Hybern, your cousin's agonising cries when she had returned in Azriel’s arms that fateful night. You balled the cursed thing in your hand and chucked it back in the box. Lucien bit his lip, not finding it quite as funny anymore.
“It’s tradition in the Autumn Court to send things that are useful, as well as just objects of beauty.” He explained. It was clear which one the headband was meant to be.
“I’m Illyrian. Does he really think a bit of cold is going to hurt me? I don’t want any courting gifts, Lucien, regardless of their use.”
“You ate the cheese.” He murmured.
“We all ate the cheese, Lucien.” Was your quick reply.
He had no retort, and you decided that it was for the best. When you returned to your room, you pushed the box under your bed with the rest of the letters and gifts. The marigolds were wilted and dead for lack of sunlight, the earrings never touched. You could feel the mating bond screaming, begging to be heard, but you pushed it back further. This male would not have any part of you. None at all. You would never be his. No matter how much the thought pained you.
---
You were not reciprocating. Eris had spent all night fumbling around with those stupid needles trying to make something you might actually care for, and your response was silence. He thought back to that night. He knew he had not imagined the hunger in your eyes that almost knocked him dead. Yet how had he repaid you? By kissing Nesta. By proposing to Nesta.
He had fucked up. As if, after everything you already thought about him, you might have given him a chance.
Yet the bond raged so fiercely, he could barely stand to ignore it for even a day before his chest burned so badly he thought he might drown. It would be a fitting way to go, he thought. To be hated so much it killed him. He had done enough to deserve such a fate.
Weeks passed, then months. Rhysand had been kind enough to let him visit Lucien twice more, once ending in a painfully awkward run in with Cassian that had him leaving earlier than intended. Those overgrown bats hovered around him as if he might try stealing you away the longer he spent in the Night Court. He never managed to catch even a glimpse of you. Not with Azriel or Rhys silently staring, or Cassian barging in every few minutes pretending to need something from the room. He was allowed nowhere without Lucien as his chaperone, he could say nothing without it being overheard. So much for bats, they were more like hawks.
He had stopped sending courting gifts. And he had stopped sending letters.
Cheddar lay her head on his lap, and he stroked her soft head gently.
“Am I just a fool, Cheddar?” He asked, knowing she could do nothing more than side-eye him as he spoke. “What good is it, pursuing your mate who hates you and whose brothers want you dead? Should I let this go?”
Cheddar whined, and thumped her tail. Checking the clock Eris found it was almost time for her walk. Eris glanced at the paper laid on his desk, gathering dust for weeks. He sighed. Once more. Once more he would grovel for your attention, to soothe the pain in his chest, the ache in his heart. Then he would let it go.
Let you go.
Forever.
Join me for a walk. I wish to talk. Eris.
He signed his name, the first time he had ever bothered to. Before he had time to overthink it, it vanished from his desk. His hands shook. Seconds passed, minutes turned to half an hour. Then it came. Popping onto the desk unceremoniously. Your response.
Fine. Where should I meet you?
He replied quickly, Cheddar beginning to get restless.
On the border, there is a doorway from Night to Autumn, I will walk you past the wards.
I will be there.
It was now well past when he would have usually taken the dogs out, but they would be walked, this time with his mate in tow. He stood with a shaky breath, and took the leads off the wall. Winnowing with his dogs to the edge of the Court, he steeled himself. He was ready to face you, to face his one chance to change your mind.
---
You stood at the edge of the Autumn Court. You had told no one where you were. Nor had you told anyone who you were with. Rhys would have a fit if he ever found out, Azriel would never speak to you again. Cassian might have allowed you to go, but not without following you and glaring holes through Eris the entire time.
It was safer for Eris on your own.
You heard his dogs first, then his voice calling after them to slow down. A brindle smokehound bounded up to you, its tongue lolling and tail wagging frantically. They were a beautiful breed, and rare, you couldn’t help the warm smile you gave it. It stopped just short of smacking into your legs and you giggled, holding your hand out for it to sniff. It was a few beats ahead of its owner, who was walking slowly with four more dogs waltzing around him, one calmly at his side. You watched as they ran circles around you and Eris as he came to a stop before you. He gave a short whistle and they stopped dead in their tracks, then retreated to his side. You couldn’t help the short burst of arousal you sent down the bond. Eris gave a cocky smile.
“You came.” He said, his smooth voice giving away no emotion, the bond closed off to you.
“I did.” You answered, unable to block your side of the bond quite as effectively.
“Did you receive my gifts?”
“I did.” You repeated. He cleared his throat and shifted on his feet.
“Well, the dogs will be off leash, I hope that’s alright. They’re usually good, but this one might try and go for the squirrels.” He said, pointing to a gorgeous black dog who pressed it’s long nose into Eris’ hand. You gave the pup a small smile.
You walked in silence for a while, both of you unsure of where to start, what to say to mend the fraying thread that connected you. Golden and ruby leaves crunched underfoot, the dogs panting breaths fogged little clouds in the crisp air. It was truly beautiful. You had always felt a sense of calm when Autumn fell over Velaris, but it could not compare to the serenity of the Autumn Court. It felt as though the whole Court was holding its breath, the season of change, never-changing, unending. Eris let you soak it in, watching as you beheld the forest in all its magnificence, not bothering you with conversation.
“You kissed her.” You said finally, breaking the peaceful silence. Eris fiddled with the leash in his hand.
“I had to.”
“Why?” You asked, the question sounding childish as soon as it escaped your lips.
“There were expectations on me that night I don’t expect you to understand.” The bond was still sealed tight from you, he spoke with the emotionless tone of a well-trained courtier.
“Try me.” You pressed.
“I don’t want to.” And perhaps it was the truth, but frustration built the further you walked, the silence dragging out between you uncomfortably. He had invited you here to talk. So talk he would.
You scoffed. The bond buzzing incessantly at your closeness to your mate, finally right where it wanted to be. But all you could focus on were his eyes, his heated gaze, as he had brushed his lips across Nesta’s bare neck.
“No.” You snapped. “You knew I was watching when you claimed my sister. When you proposed to marry her. You have given me no reason to believe you care for me. Never once apologised for what you did to my cousin. How could I ever trust you? That is what you want, is it not?”
He was staring at you now, no longer averting his gaze, amber eyes cold and calculating.
“I had a duty to my father to propose marriage to Nesta, I have no feelings for her, only for you.” Eris said, carefully ignoring any mention of Morrigan.
“You don’t know me. You know nothing about me. Only that we share this bond.” You argued. One of his dogs trotted up to your side and you pet her head to calm yourself. The action grounded you, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Eris, who felt it deep in his chest.
“I know that you seem to care an awful lot about what I did with your sister, yet claim to detest me” He said, dropping the walls he had carefully placed around the bond.
Nerves. Anger. Disappointment.
“I have waited centuries for a mating bond, and will not let your unfortunate Court affiliations bar me from trying, especially not when you show me so clearly your true desires.”
You rounded on him with anger glinting in your eyes.
“You could never be serious, professing my ‘true desires’, if you knew how much I loathed you, Eris Vanserra.”
Hurt. Pain. Despair.
“You are a power hungry brute who as far as I know has a secret thing for Illyrians.”
There was a pregnant pause. Eris stared straight at you with an expression you could not decipher. He was bathed in dappled golden light. He looked ethereal. You couldn’t help the guilt that washed over you, and you knew he felt it too.
Hope.
Something clicked, his expression shifted and he moved towards you with a darkness in his eyes that sent heat rushing to your core. You stepped back until you hit a tree, your back pressed up against it, and you were trapped. He crowded you, so close you could almost taste his spiced perfume.
“Is that what they have told you, little fox?” He asked, his deep voice low and sensual against your ear, “The only Illyrian I have a thing for is you. The moment I saw you swagger into that meeting as if you owned the place, I knew the Mother had made the right choice. She mocks me with your family, but I would risk their disapproval for just a taste of you.” You sucked in a breath, anger quickly replaced with lust as he pressed against you, and you cursed your body for reacting. You knew he could smell your arousal as his cruel grin widened.
“You feel it too, don’t you little fox.” His scent consumed you as he dropped every glamour, the heady rush of his arousal surrounded you like a drug. “That despite everything you think about me, you want me too. You want this.”
There was nowhere to run, with your back firmly pressed against the tree. There was no escape. That would be the lie you kept telling yourself afterwards as you surged up to kiss his lips, no longer able to resist. You took him by surprise, and used your advantage to spin him around, lips still on his, pushing him against the tree. He looked at you with lust blown eyes, throwing his head back, eyes screwed shut as you squeezed him, hard.
“This is mine.” You growled, the jealousy and need you had felt at the ball rushing back full force, “You are mine. From now on if you so much as sniff around another female I will make sure to show you exactly who you belong to.”
He panted, nodding frantically.
“Yes. Please. Please y/n, I need you.”
You fished his cock from his pants, it was wet and throbbing, the length of it in your hand making your pussy clench in need. He hissed at the cold air. You needed him closer. You needed to taste him. Dropping to your knees, you enveloped him in your mouth, his hands flying to your hair.
“Fuck, fuck, fuuuckkk.” He groaned. He pulled your hair roughly, and you looked up at him with doe eyes. You wanted it hard, rough. Wanted him to fuck your mouth as if he hated you. He felt it all through the shimmering golden thread and whimpered.
“You’re killing me, Y/n.” He grit out. With a small smile you bobbed your head, experimentally. A burst of salty precum coated your tongue and you swallowed it with a moan. He was hot and pulsing in your mouth, you pushed your head further down until he was at the back of your throat, your nose bumping against his navel, wanting him to feel the contractions as you swallowed around him. Breathing through your nose, you tapped at the back of his legs. you wanted him thrusting into you.
Slowly, painfully slowly, he pulled his hips back, dragging his cock lavishly across your tongue. With a sharp breath he pushed in, and you met his thrust with a bob of your head, knees aching, eyes watering.
He growled, and picked up the pace until he was fucking your face with abandon. His moans and pants sending slick dripping into your panties. Salt was all you could taste as his dick leaked continuously onto your tongue. He was soaking wet, with your spit, with his slick. It was the messiest blowjob you had ever given, and you fucking loved it. The bond hummed in pleasure as you gagged and drooled around him.
“Sweetheart, fuck, I’m close.” He whined, his thrusts growing sloppy as he ground his hips against your face.
“Gods your mouth, your fucking mouth, you’re gonna make me cum.” You laved your tongue over him, his constant stream of words both amusing and arousing you. You pulled off his cock and held your tongue out, looking up at him, hand pumping him roughly.
“I’m, I’m cumming, shit, Sweetheart, fuck.” He came copiously, so much that you choked on it. You swallowed, watching his eyes darken as you licked your lips.
He leaned against the tree, panting, and you sat on your knees.
This was not what you had planned. Not in the slightest. You had come to tell him to fuck off, to let the bond grow cold and stale. And yet you were on your knees in front of him, the taste of him consuming your senses. What had you done? You knew he could feel the growing fear, spreading through your chest like a chill.
“I have to go.” You stood abruptly.
“Don’t—” You didn’t stay to hear what he said next. You ran to the doorway, and didn’t stop running until you had reached your bedroom in the Night Court.
You opened the door. Rhys stood, a murderous look on his face and letters gripped tight in his fist. The scent of Eris was all over you. You had no way to hide it. His eyes darkened, your desk cracked and splintered then misted into thin air.
“Rhys I—” You scrambled for the right words to say as your brother took a heavy step towards you.
“I can explain.”
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Heya! Just seen you ask about where your SW art went, and surprised by the answer. I certainly support you as you should do whatever you want with your blogs and I've certainly soured on SW myself... But I wanted to ask what was the reason you moved on so wholly? If there is one.
Ooh, I’d say it was probably a mix of things. I feel I’ve outgrown Star Wars, and as an artist, I was starting to hit my head against a wall with burnout over Star Wars-related art. My main blog was always meant to be just a place where I dumped art, but it kind of got hijacked by SW when I started posting SW-related content.
I could also go on to say I’m not a big fan of the direction Disney is taking SW. The quality of the writing has plummeted dramatically in recent projects (except Andor? I haven't seen it, but the reviews have been positive I hear). Whilst I support the actors and the crew, I’m just not vibing with the content, ya know?
I’m also trying to branch out with more original content, but I think I’ve still got to take that leap with my main blog—fandom-related content always performs better than the original stuff.
Anyway! Sorry for blotting out the sun with this post. Hope this sheds some light on what to expect from this blog 😊😁
#autumn answers#star wars stuff#AHS will never be complete sorry guys#and the KTAU was sweet but I've kinda moved on#we had some good times tho didn't we 🥹
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Hi Autumn! This idea has been growing on me, so I'm gonna share it with you. I'm thinking that our reader works as like a pole dancer at a club, moderately popular with her regulars. She's been doing this for a long time to make money, it's all she knows. The yandere is friends with some old money rich guy, and he gets dragged along to the club in the city because it's his friend's birthday. He's a country guy, not used to big cities. He hates the club, it's loud, it's noisy, so he fully intends to get drunk sitting in a corner of the bar. But then the reader comes out to dance, and it's like magic, the whole club can't stop looking at her. The yandere's friend manages to get her for a private performance, and the yandere's a snarky little shit, so he's bantering with the reader. The reader's not taking any of it personally because this is her job and what she gets paid for, but he can't stop thinking about her. And it makes him burn inside to think of her dancing for other men that aren't him.
I apologize for responding late! But went you sent this to me yesterday, I literally laughed out loud. Because I was just imaging a Yandere customer getting obsessed over a pile dancing reader. Literally it was fated for you to send this to me. And I’m so happy you wanted to share it with me.
But let me raise the stakes, how about the Yandere is a stationed soldier in some made up country. Like he’s a traditional, country man. Like in his mind, women shouldn’t be out and about, they need to be in the house taking the kids and her husband, and if she is??? Wheww that dress/skirt better not be any higher above her knees. He probably envisioned himself with the girl next door type, or the library type. Of course he would want a hidden sexiness to them, that only they show to him. The “lady in the streets, freak in the sheets”.
He probably regards himself as gentleman, and would be caught dare at a place like back at home, very small town and word gets around real quick, for you know what I mean. But it’s his superior’s bday or some kind of celebration, and he just hadddd to come 🙄. And when reader comes out. I dont have a description of what she’s wearing, because I honestly idk. So I’ll leave it up to you. She’s real sultry, And watching her do her VERY tame version of like a body roll/hip roll. But the crowd of uncultured men go crazy. But for him who never seen women in such an act in the first place, it knocked the wind out of his lungs. I imagine it was Like the 1960s (don’t ask I just love that time period). Like there’s no internet, no digital cameras. Pornhub dosen’t exist. The best he could hope for growing up as a teenage boy, was find some dirty magazines in his dad’s/uncle’s/grandfather’s stuff.
Other than that, you just don’t see stuff like this in the usual. So this is all new to him. He honesty dosen’t know how to act, but being the (like you said) snarky, machismos man he is, he puts up a tough act. He dosen’t want anyone noticing hes freaking out internally, both excitement and Anxiety.
And his friend is super drunk, and just offers a bunch of money to y/n just to give him a lap dance. With that amount of money? For just a simple lapdance? She’ll be a real idiot to refuse, she hurries to agree, before another girl can snatch up this great deal.
Y/N was going to perform this simple lapdance and then get the hell out. At first, he’s shell shocked. Like just frozen as a statue. She figured it might be his first time, thought he would be one of those shy types, you know the nice ones… so she starts talking to him and that’s when everything goes downhill. Her voice was enough for to break out of this hypnosis . He grabs her waist and starts dry grinding her. Of course she stops him, tells him “no touching unless you have more money to hand out”. He gives her money, but not only to do simple touches but to degrade her too. The whole time he just calls her names, this and that. And I can imagine our reader being a touch cookie with a even tougher and thick skin, so all his words just bounce off her. She just does what she needs to do and get out. So she completely silent with him. When it’s over, right in front of his face, one of her regulars (her favorite you can say), a soldier(could even be his army buddy), request a simple lapdance, and he watches her talk in this happy, upbeat, cheery tone/attitude while she walks this other customer to another room. And he’s angry as fuck. Like where was all this decent customer service when she was with him. His buddy explains he’s regular, and just encourages to come around move which is ultimately horrible for the reader of course 😂
And you’re right! I can see him be the insanely controlling and possessive type. Like he lays at night thinking about all the men she dance half naked for. He’s so angry, but yet, so hard. Because not only for her dignity but his too! How do you think he feels watching his girl dance for other men????
When he goes back home, after all these years. Guess who he sees again?
Seriously thank you for sending the ask in! Feel free to come and rant about whatever oc you have in mind!
~ Autumn
#autumn answers#gatlily ^^^#yanderecore#yandere x reader#yandere oc#yandere man#autumnworldblackgirl#yandere blog#yandere prompts
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Turn Algernon and Felicity into Marketable plushies
Aww look at them!
Keep an eye on that left one though, I’m told he never stays put…
#I’ve never drawn plushies so this was a fun drawing exercise thank you!#digital art#alton towers#sir algenon#autumn answers
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hey!
hope you're doing ok! if there's anything us anonymous internet voices can do, just say the word.
you're not alone-sending a little bit of love your way best I can.
<3
Ily anon
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My turn 💘 #41
I don't mind sexting (obvi). Dirty talk during the day to drop bread crumbs as like prolonged foreplay is always nice. But during actual foreplay or sex I am usually too busy with my mouth or moaning so not much talking happens on my part 😅
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when are you going to get back to writing? i miss your fics sm :(
hi my friend! Thank you for caring that’s so sweet.
I have 3 fics coming out between now and the end of February if you want to check out my WIP list here. I’ve been fairly active, just needed to take a break before to get adjusted to new roles at work. <3
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