#Follower request

[traumasurvivors]

Your trauma is valid even if you weren't a perfect victim. Whether that means you screamed back, slammed doors, or got argumentative or something else. It still doesn't mean you deserved abuse, or asked for it.

[sagstelliums]

What do boys say about you (pac) *follower request

Pile 1

I see that they say you reject people a lot or you’re intimidating and they’re scared of you rejecting them, they say that you’re patient or they know they have to be patient with you. They say that they don’t think they have a chance with you, they’re cautious of you and they think you can be impatient sometime. Signs- Sagittarius/leo. Initials- Z, D, W, K

Pile 2

I see that they say you’re distracting and they desire you, they say that they like being around you and some of them miss you. They say that you’re not paying attention to them and you’re busy focusing on your self growth/goals, they’re saying that sometimes you look sad or unhappy/lonely. Signs- Taurus/capricorn. Initials- H, N, M

Pile 3

I see that they say you’re stressful or you have high standards, they say that you’re a hard worker. They say that you don’t mind leaving people behind and letting things go so you can have a new beginning, they say that you’re strict and you have string boundaries. They say that you’re good at mirroring others/matching energy, they say that even though people lust after you a lot you don’t lust after others/you play hard to get. Some of them think you’re their twin flame or karmic, they say you’re financially stable. Signs- Leo/pisces. Initials- U, O, V, X, R

Personal readings always available

Pngs by @whimsigothwitch @l0velykuromi @dollhousegirl Divider by @baexywth

[jqmunson]

Scrubba dubdub 🛁🚿🫧

Follower edit request (1/3)

@mrsjellymunson

[gtsdreamer2]

Beach Gate

April 12th. The day they told everyone to stay out of the water. It was all over the news for weeks. They were releasing a small amount of radiation waste into the ocean. Scientists ran hundreds of simulations about how the water would be safe just one day after the release. Something about dispersement and currents. What they hadn't calculated were the hungry organisms in the water that would feed on the radiation and mutate.

Sebast was relaxing in his chair on the beach. He was on holiday and figured a lazy afternoon at the beach would be the best use for the beautiful day that it was. The beach was moderately crowded, but it was a school day, so it was mostly adults relaxing and enjoyimg the water. Sebast was reading the daily paper, but couldn't help but steal glances at all of the beautiful bikini-clad women that he was fortunate to be surrounded by on this clear, sunny day. He started to dose off while reading the article about a strange algal bloom that scientists were only just starting to study. As he slept, the water all along the shore suddenly began to glow a dark purple as the irradiated algae began to flood in. Woman and men alike were quickly covered in the bloom. As the beach goers exited the shimmering sea, two things became apparent. Firstly, the algae seemed to slip and slide off the men and children before receding back into the ocean. Secondly, the purple globs seemed to congregate and cover only the women, sticking to them and binding to their skin. At first they tried their best to remove the unwelcome algae, but as the masses of purple microfauna began to completely coat the women, their demeanor quickly changed from panic to pleasure.

Sebast awoke, startled as the screams turned to moans around him. Looking to the woman closest to him, he could only watch in fascination as she spasmed on the ground. Mashing her hands over her body, she forcefully massaged the purple goop against her skin. Slowly the algae was being absorbed into her and the irradiated creatures caused her body to swell and grow, which only seemed to fuel her pleasure.

"Fuck, this feels amazing!" She cried out, quickly breaking free of her inadequate clothing. All around him similar situations were playing out. The women began to surge in size at varying paces depending on how much algae they had been in contact with. Some women quickly realized this and ran back into the ocean, scooping up massive handfuls of the creatures and lathering them onto themselves. As the women on the beach began to only break the ten foot mark, those in the sea were quickly doubling and tripling that as their increased volume gave the algae more space to bind to.

Sebast watched as a hierarchy quickly formed. The massive women in the ocean were now big enough to block the much smaller women from growing any larger. This led to the woman that was closest to him coming up to him with a children's pail. She towered above him while she batted her long lashes. "Um, could you take this into the water and bring me more of that purple stuff? I want to be bigger and I promise I'll give you a big reward!" She pressed her chest together as she stuck out both her arms to hand Sebast the pail. He eagerly took it and waited for an opportunity. As one of the monstrously large women in the water started fighting over resources with another one, he made a dash for the shoreline, quickly scooping up a bucket's worth of algae. One of the titanesses watched playfully as Sebast delivered the pail. The woman eagerly dumped it over herself and rubbed it into her skin, quickly gaining a meager two feet in height. "I'll never catch up to those goddesses at this rate. Thanks anyway sweetie." She said, kissing him on the cheek.

The biggest of the sea queens laughed at the mini-giantess's attempt to gain some size. "That was pathetic." She taunted. "Watch and learn." The tide was forced outward as the kaiju sized woman lowered herself into the sea, leaving only her nose above the waterline. Suddenly she opened her mouth and sucked in hundreds of gallons of seawater and all the algae with it. Great volumes of purple water filled her cheeks as she gained another hundred feet in only a few moments. She moaned through her closed mouth, careful not to lose any growth fuel until it had all been absorbed into her. When her growth finally slowed, she sprayed clear water at all the onlookers that were now even further dwarfed by her.

"What a rush!" She boomed, her voice resonating for miles against the tiny eardrums it came across. At her new size, she had no trouble throwing the closest women to her size out onto the beach. "This is all mine!" She roared, throwing her arms out and scooping miles of purple onto her skin, which rose above the water higher and higher. She groped her massive chest and rubbed herself all over in a display of pure carnal dominance. Sebast just watched in awe as the women that were still much larger than him cowered before this ascending goddess. He turned to the one who he had helped grow and grabbed her hand. "Let's get out of here before she crushes us all!" He said, showing her another pail full of algae. She giggled before lifting him up and scurrying off somewhere safer.

[sotwk]

Taken (Eomer x unnamed OC )

Part 1 of 3

Part 2 / Part 3

Love Confession feat. Eomer Eadig

Valentine 2023 Event by @sotwk

Summary: The lone shield-maiden in Eomer's Éored has been secretly in love with him for years, but has long accepted that that he can never share those feelings. At the feast of King Elessar's coronation, she is surprised to learn that there may yet be hope.

Prompt: "It's like you never really see me. I'm standing right in front of you and you don't see me!"

Requested by and Dedicated to: @writefortherain-blog Thank you for making this request and giving me the opportunity to write for Eomer!

Word count: 2.4k

Content: Romance, angst, mutual pining, oblivious to love, jealousy, forbidden relationship, class division, shield-maiden, King Eomer, post-RotK

Rating: T (Teens and up)

Warnings: Some sensuality

To Read on AO3: Link

Taken 

Third Age 3019 May 1

Minas Tirith

PART ONE

Downing that fourth cup of wine had been a mistake. Or was it the fifth? Sixth? The ridiculous dress with its rib-crushing bodice and neckline positioned nowhere near your neck, had also been a mistake, even though the local clother had insisted to you that it was in the "proper" Gondorian fashion. The entire evening and its inconveniences had all been for a failed end. 

You finally jostled your way out of the packed feasting hall and stumbled outside to the courtyard, your compressed lungs and flushed skin rejoicing at their contact with the cool night air. One hand rose to massage your throbbing temple, and the other clawed irritatedly at the boning that caged in your unacceptably unfeminine frame. 

"Never again," you seethed under your breath, as you crossed the white-stone pavement to move even farther away from the chaos you escaped. 

It had been a painful decision to ride out to Minas Tirith with the rest of your Éored and attend the coronation of the returned King of Gondor. You despised grand affairs, knowing well enough the requirements rules of court would impose on you, unwieldy formal attire being just one of them. These were at least tolerable within Rohan, where you could find some comfort amongst familiar faces and settings. But as the lone female who rode in the company of the Third Marshal, you refused to be excluded from any undertaking by your Éored, however dangerous or unpleasant. Whether it broke your arm or shattered your heart.

"I can just go," you thought, casting a quick glance back at the great hall, alive and alight with the merry cacophony of a thousand revelers that would surely last until dawn. The two hours you already spent mingling to the best of your limited ability had to suffice, and it was doubtful your presence would even be missed. 

But the call of a deep voice stalled your retreat, loud and commanding and instantly recognizable even across a distance as it shouted your name. The soldier in you succumbed to the instinct to obey your Marshal, to honor the oath you had sworn on your knees years ago. 

The flickering flames of nearby torchlights reflected against the carved silver panels of the breastplate he donned over his lavishly embroidered tunic. Famously handsome even when caked in blood and grime, Eomer was breathtakingly resplendent bearing the regalia that befitted his station. King Eomer now, you reminded yourself, as you dipped your head in a bow. 

“My lord.”

“Is something amiss? Why did you leave?” His narrowed eyes upon you were penetrating, his tone demanding rather than concerned. Lying to someone you had spent practically every single day of your adult life with was difficult, and even more so with an addled brain, so you knew you had to mince words carefully.  

Fortunately, you had years of practice doing exactly that. 

“I underestimated the potency of their vintage, and downed one cup too many.” You scrunched up your features in a grimace that just slightly exaggerated your pain. “I thought it best to excuse myself and retire for the night.”

“Perhaps if you rested a while and ate some food…” He rested a hand lightly on your shoulder. “It is much too early and the quarters would still be empty. I know you detest fraternizing, but just sit at the table with the rest of our men.”

You released a graceless guffaw and a puff of wine-tinged breath. “Half of them are already deeper in their cups than I, and getting sloppier by the second. I finally had to remind Héothain of his manners the second time he tried to sneak a hand down the front of my dress.”

“He did what?” Eomer’s sudden growl awakened you to your own carelessness and slip of the tongue. Smooth-cheeked Héothain was the youngest and newest addition to the Éored, and remained sorely lacking in experience with women. He should not be held accountable for his awkwardness amplified by insobriety. 

“It was a silly mistake that caused no harm,” you insisted, pulling back as Eomer attempted to lead you off by the elbow. “Two sprained fingers taught him a lesson he shall not soon forget.” 

Eomer glowered at you but remained silent for a pause, as he did whenever running through courses of action in his mind. “Then you can come sit by me at the King’s table.”

Your laugh in response to that suggestion was shrill and nervous, as he looked so serious making it. “I most certainly cannot… my lord.” You stated your defiance firmly, baring a toothless pertinacity against your leader, and underneath it a silent plea that the friend in him would understand. “There is no place for me amongst such esteemed company and truly, there is nothing in the world I would enjoy less at this moment.” 

You sighed and braced one hand below your rib area, massaging a spot where the corset dug into a still-tender battle injury. 

“Please. Let me go back to my room where I can be rid of these dreadful garments.”

“No.” The immediacy and sharpness of his refusal made you blink in surprise. “Not until you explain yourself to my satisfaction.”

“Pardon, my lord?”

“Hah, there! That is what I am speaking of.” 

“I’m afraid I don’t understand--”

“When did you cease to call me by my name in private conversation? Or last bother to converse with me at all?!” You took too long to answer, and he barreled on, hazel eyes flashing with the sudden rise of agitation. “Let me enlighten you, since I recall it well. It began after Theodred’s death, accompanied by a host of other changes in your behavior towards me that you think I have not noticed!”

You scrambled to concoct a rebuttal, another feint to keep him from uncovering your secrets. Alas, your dulled mind had frozen completely in the face of the horse-lord’s fury, which had never been directed at you in such a manner.

“You are misreading things, my lord, or else imagining them. I cannot say that I--”

“You cannot even look me in the eye these days of late!” Eomer snapped. “Nor can you stand to be in any room I am in for long.” He threw out his arm in the direction of the great hall. “Even now you rebuff any attempt I make to spend time with you.”

“I…I…” You stammered, rendered helpless before his unexpected wrath, cursing yourself for the poor timing of your inebriation. How could you put up your shields when your mind was struggling to pick out your own lies from the truth?

“If you are angry with me, I would have you admit to it now. I will no longer be played for a fool.”

Indignation pooled in your gut, crawling upward until it deepened the coloring of your already flushed face. “I confess to nothing! For what cause do I have to be angry?”

“Because you loved him!” Eomer erupted. As you gaped at his outburst, he gripped a fistful of his hair, and took in one sharp breath, steeling himself. “You loved Theodred,” he finally said, in a voice gone cold and quiet. “And you place blame on me for his death.”

The fire in your belly flared at the terrible accusation. “Theodred was murdered by Saruman, and only a traitor would fault you for that vile cur’s deed.” You shook a finger at him emphatically. “I am no traitor.”

“Did you love my cousin?”

“Of course I did,” you said stoutly. The prince’s demise plagued you still, for you had been the one to spot Theodred’s body amongst the corpses that littered the fords. And after he’d been borne away to Meduseld, you never saw him alive again, and all you could do was weep in the privacy of your quarters, which you did for weeks, mourning the loss of so much more than a dear friend and mentor. 

“No one has ever shown me greater kindness than Theodred.” You held a hand over your heart as a different ache rose in you. “He believed in me at a time when no one else would, not even you." 

Eomer had fallen silent, but you saw his cloaked shoulders rise and fall, broad chest heaving in the manner so familiar to you. It was the way he looked on the battlefield, where his blood ran hottest, and he was fighting to balance out the genteel lord and savage killer that both resided within him. He was so thoroughly upset with you. 

“If I have made you feel like your cousin’s fate was in any way your fault, I am truly sorry,” you said. "But what sort of questions are these, and why are you asking them now?"

His gaze flicked back in your direction, leaden with anguish. "You should know why."

“I am telling you I do not, my lord, and I must beg you to explain why you are speaking so cryptically."

“You wish for me to explain in words something I have been trying to show you for years now?!” He gave a strangled laugh and raised his eyes and hands to the night sky. "Bema…"

“It is as though you never really see me,” he muttered, almost as though speaking to himself. “Here I am, standing right in front of you, and you do not see me!"

But you did hear his mumbled complaints, and suddenly it was all too much. Your sickening weariness, your aches both physical and emotional, your befuddlement caused by the six drinks and this man's unhinged raging as he launched yet another ludicrous accusation at you.

"Not see you?" you repeated, and something about just saying it rammed open the gate behind which you had caged up every real thing you ever wanted to say to Eomer, Son of Eomund. 

"If such a thing were possible, I would wish it upon myself immediately!" you exclaimed. "But you are all I ever see, even when I do not wish to! Even when I flee from your presence, I can never escape a face that refuses to leave my thoughts!" 

Oh Valar, no. STOP. Panicked, you bit down on your lip to imprison the words fleeing your mouth, so hard you tasted blood. But Eomer suddenly moved forward, encroaching on the space you desperately fought to maintain for your own protection, and his hazel eyes locked into yours to wrench away the last of your defenses. 

"It hurts too much, can you not understand?!" you cried, managing one step back. "To remain in the presence of the one thing you most desire but will never have, to be taunted by a dream that will never be fulfilled, to watch as it falls into the possession of another while you can do absolutely nothing!"

He spoke your name, his voice oddly hoarse, and shame finally came crashing down inside you. Your hands flew up to hide your face and suddenly he grabbed your wrists, tugging your arms away only to replace your hands with his own, warming your cheeks with his calloused palms. 

“Then see me now,” he ordered. “And know I have always understood how that feels. What great fools we have both been all along to deny ourselves our true desires.”

“Eomer, what--” The stroke of his thumb over the corner of your mouth drove the rest of the words away, and the parting of your lips and flutter of your eyes gave him the approval he sought. 

His kiss tasted more glorious than they did in a thousand daydreams combined. It did not surprise you that he was completely unlike the other men you had kissed before. Whereas lesser men were greedy and sloppy in their hunger, the caress of Eomer’s mouth was deep and languid, almost worshipful in its exploration of your lips, as though he aimed to savor every small sensation and intended to carry on doing this with you forever. 

His one arm looped around your waist to hold you covetously against him; his broad left hand traveled from your cheek to cradle the back of your neck, his long fingers burying themselves into your hair, tips grazing your scalp. It fired up a new heat in you that you had never felt before, not with such raw intensity, and a tremulous whimper escaped your throat. 

But the sound of your own pleasure was your undoing, for it triggered an alarm in your head, one that caused you to break away from Eomer’s passion. You mumbled against his lips the words you had conditioned yourself for years to think around him. 

“My lord, I cannot…”

He paused, his eyes still dazed and unfocused, caught in a state of bliss--one that you caused, you realized with a shiver. “You cannot… what?” he said thickly. Without waiting for an answer, he dipped back in eagerly to trail his mouth up your jawline, his tongue skimming the tender pulse underneath your ear. 

You gave a small cry and pushed against his chest with more force, immediately waking his attention. His arm around your waist remained stubbornly secure however, and it took you physically prying the powerful limb off for you to slip free. Either due to shock or lingering delirium, Eomer did not resist. 

“I cannot…” Your voice broke even as you clung to your resolve. “I cannot have you.”

His heavy brows furrowed. “What?” Within seconds the confusion lifted to uncover his dismay, layered with anger. “You would speak lies and nonsense again, after everything I told you?”

“It is the truth, Eomer!” You started backing away already, stepping faster and faster as he began to move and reach out for you. “You can never be anything more than a dream to someone like me. I cannot have what is already taken.”

“Taken? What--wait! No!” He started to run, but you had already turned heel and were sprinting full-speed towards the Citadel Gate. You had always been faster on your feet; there was no hope of him catching up if you refused to heed his orders. “Stop!”

His shouts of your name faded quickly, drowned out by the noise of the milling crowd you plunged into and the thunder of your own frantic heartbeat. You slowed to a walk but kept a quick pace, weaving haphazardly through the throng and on and on until you’d descended at least two levels. Only then did you duck into a side street and survey your surroundings.

Your escape succeeded. Neither Eomer nor any Rohirrim were anywhere to be found, at least for the moment.

You collapsed upon the nearest doorstep, exhaustion and aches finally overcoming you. As the chaotic whirlwind within you settled, so too did the reality of what just occurred sink in. 

Eomer desired you, perhaps even loved you as you did him. But the King of Rohan’s love was not for you, a common soldier, to take. You had known that all along, and he did too. It was unkind of him to give you such false hope. 

Raising your fingers to your swollen lips, you felt the ghost of his perfect kisses on them, and finally burst into tears over yet another memory that will grieve you until your trampled heart could bear no more.

To be continued...

Tag list: @aduialel @fizzyxcustard @laneynoir @auttumnsayshi @achromaticerebus @friendofthefellowshipsnerdblog @blueberryrock @scyllas-revenge @glassgulls @ladyweaslette @heilith @absentmindeduniverse @lathalea @guardianofrivendell @quickslvxr @asianbutnotjapanese @heranintomyknife23times @entishramblings

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[favficbirthdays]

Happy Birthday

Hiroshi Satou (25th January)

The Disastrous Life of Saiki K.

[mablondexxxblog]

[where-is-my-whump]

Hudson and Rex 3x05

Requested by: @arriejohnson

[gmc10gmc]

[sexykatsuki17]

Teachers Belly Vs Students Belly

Before school on Monday Aizawa was in the teacher lounge grading papers, this was his least favorite part of Being a teacher he had to grade 20 students papers. Soon present Mic walked into the teachers lounge. What’s up Eraser Present mic said Aizawa groaned why aren’t these kids getting this? What are you grading? Present mic asked I’m grading the test that my students took today. Aizawa said why not wait until after class Present Mic said I only teach one thing Mic. Mic smiled, yeah I know just trying to make it easier on you buddy Aizawa rolled his eyes before he got up walking out of the teachers lounge.

As Aizawa walked out Midnight smiled. He seems to be in a cranky mood. I hope that the kids don’t drive him too crazy, agreed Present mic said As Aizawa walked down the hall to class 1A he heard what sounded like Bakugo yelling and lida trying to calm him down.

Aizawa took a deep breath. Oh great, today should be fun, Aizawa said sarcastically. Soon Aizawa opened the door and everyone was quiet.

Good morning class Aizawa said good morning Mr Aizawa the class said I just wanna start by apologizing for any yelling you may have heard Lida said Bakugo rolled his eyes. Tell Deku to stop rambling all the damn time it’s really fucking annoying Bakugo said Deku can’t help it that’s who he is Uraraka said oh shut it pink cheeks you just like this damn nerd bakugo said Enough Bakugo you have been disrespectful since you got here this morning Lida said oh shut it four eyes Bakugo said.

Aizawa looked at Bakugo, Lida, uraraka, and Midoriya. Can I start homeroom now? We have a lot to discuss. Aizawa said sorry sir Lida said teacher's pet Bakugo said under his breath Bakugo? Aizawa said what? Bakugo asked I had enough of your outburst today. Just shut up and let me do my job. Aizawa said Bakugo was quiet for the rest of the lesson.

Aizawa discussed their test and any other important news that should be addressed to the class. Uraraka raised her hand. Yes? Aizawa asked what are the grades on the test? I can’t share that with the whole class. Aizawa said Uraraka nodded.

After school Katsuki and Kirishima were walking back to the dorms. Did you hear the way that Mr Aizawa was talking to me telling me to shut up? Katsuki said kicking a can of soda that someone littered, yeah I heard Kirishima said they continued to walk back to the dorms.

Later that evening Katsuki got a text from Aizawa. Katsuki who just got out of the shower checked his phone.

Aizawa: Hello problem child number 2.

Bakugo: How the hell did you get my number?

Aizawa: I have my ways.

Bakugo: What are you staker now?

Aizawa: No, since you couldn’t be quiet in today's class I wanna do a challenge with you.

Bakugo: The hell? A teacher wanting to do a challenge with a student fine what challenge did you have in mind?

Aizawa: a laxative challenge.

Bakugo: A laxative challenge? Are you sure your old stomach can handle it?

Aizawa: You have such a vulgar mouth young man anyway we start tomorrow Good night.

Bakugo: Good night.

The next day Bakugo heard a knock on his room door and a note slip under his door. Bakugo stretched before he got up to look at the note.

The note

Good morning Bakugo I went to the store and got you some Laxative I’m not sure that you had any but these are strong ones use as much as you can

-Sign Aizawa

Bakugo smiled before he opened the door and he saw the bag of strong laxatives. He looked through the bag and gently rubbed his stomach. My stomach is going to be so upset after this Bakugo said as he went to get dressed for the school day.

A couple minutes later Bakugo went to the kitchen where he saw his classmates and a mug with his name on it. The drink inside it was coffee Bakugo swallowed thickly as he added some laxatives into the coffee and he started to drink. His stomach started to growl immediately while drinking the coffee Kirishima came up behind him and started to gently rub his gurgling belly. Bakugo’s belly growled loudly at the touch, get your hands off my belly Bakugo said I was just trying to soothe it. Is it upset this morning? Kirishima asked so what if it is? Bakugo said Kirishima smiled let’s go to class Bakugo finished his coffee. His stomach was not liking the laxatives so as they walked Bakugo’s stomach was quite loud.

Aizawa was sipping on his laxative coffee and his stomach was growling loudly as he was getting everything ready. Oh my that doesn’t sound good Midnight said you don’t say Aizawa said I can imagine that it doesn’t feel good either? Midnight asked it doesn’t I feel like my intestines are popping Aizawa said awww you poor thing. I hope you feel better soon Midnight said as she took her seat at her office chair.

Soon the bell rang and Aizawa made his way to class 1A. The growling in Bakugo’s belly didn’t feel any better. It was constantly growling he drinked some water to try and calm his stomach but that only made it worse.

Soon Aizawa walked in Good Morning Mr Aizawa the class said minus Bakugo was in embarrassment. Good Morning class Aizawa said before he let out a monstrous belch ugh, excuse me Aizawa said is it just me or does it seem like Kachan and Mr Aizawa both came to class today with upset stomachs? Midoriya asked I think they did Kirishima laughed how about we make Mr Aizawa crap in this bucket Kirishima said Good idea The boys nodded.

Bakugo and Aizawa’s stomach both growled loudly at the same time Bakugo blushed out of embarrassment while Aizawa gently rubbed his stomach. Oh my goodness what upset stomachs they have Kaminari said everyone agreed watch this Kirishima said as he got up and he poked Bakugo’s stomach. Bakugo gagged covering his mouth as his stomach growled loudly Kirishima gently rubbed Bakugo back, get your damn hand off of me Bakugo said just then Bakugo farted loudly having diarrhea on himself. He had diarrhea on himself for a good minute. Bakugo blushed out of embarrassment, everyone laughed at him but the smell was awful. Aizawa felt his stomach bubbling quite badly. Here Mr Aizawa Kirishima said giving Aizawa the bucket. Aizawa took the bucket and he had explosive diarrhea in it.

After a very long day Aizawa and Bakugo both took showers and were laying down in bed Midnight and Kirishima gently rubbing and patting Aizawa and Bakugo’s settled bellies.

Does that feel good baby? Midnight asked mmm Aizawa moaned as he stretched to give midnight more room to rub his stomach.

Does this feel good Blasty? Kirishima asked Bakugo Belched softly and then he gently moaned I take that as a yes Kirishima smiled

Both Aizawa and Bakugo went to sleep happy that night in the arms of their lovers.

[ariadnes-red-thread]

HELLO!!!!

is me again hehe <3

lately, i've been thinking about how Jesse and how his strong devotion and loyalty translates into a relationship. so i was thinkingggggg, a scenario where Jesse needs to be walked of the edge of a heated situation and needs reassurance that he's it for reader. that he's the man reader wants to be with and will stand be his side.

can be either SFW or NSFW (with agender reader with female parts??? that would make me so happy) what ever is sparking your lovely imagination.

so appreciate and love and am grateful i found your beautiful writing and met such an amazing person <3

Mythos, my dear! Thank you so much for the ask!! I saw your second ask too and I hope I’ve done your beautiful request justice. Jesse is so passionate but that’s exactly what we love about him and the idea of being able to show him that when he was feeling insecure is exactly what he deserves! I completely got carried away with this and ended up writing over 2.5k words (although it’s never enough for Jesse!). I hope you like it! Thank you for celebrating with me, love!

Pairing: Jesse x GN!/Anatomically Female Reader

Warnings: General Creepiness, Threats of Violence, Canon-Typical content, Self-Doubt, Explicit Sexual Content *MINORS DNI*

You finally made it to the bar on a particularly busy night at 79’s. It was way more work than it should have been for a glass of water, but the dance floor that Jesse had kept you glued to all night was hot, and you were parched.

You could still see him through the crowd. His cog tattoo and shaved head helped him stand out among his identical brothers. That and you’d be able to spot his grin anywhere. He was in his civies tonight, a black t-shirt and his lone pair of jeans. Jesse always looked good, but you enjoyed your current vantage point and took a moment to check out the handsome man. You had only been on dating for a few months. Your friend had been hot and heavy with Fives since the moment she met the goateed clone. It had taken her a few tries to convince you to join them on a double date with one of his brothers who Fives insisted you’d like. You hadn’t been expecting much, not because you didn’t like Fives, but simply because you didn’t imagine someone like him could be your type. Jesse had swept you off your feet, though. You hadn’t admitted it to him yet, but you were falling fast. His endearing charm, constant sarcasm, lighthearted take on life, the passion that burned bright through him, and the kindness and understanding he always showed you made it easy to fall. You watched him move under the neon lights, and you felt a wide smile creep across your face. Jesse always seemed to put that smile there.

So it was Jesse and the lights and the music’s fault that you didn’t notice a crowd of people behind you until one of them stumbled into your back. You spun around, ready to apologize for taking up precious bar space before you realized it was a group of nat-borns. Instantly, your defense went up.

It wasn’t often that other civilians wandered into 79’s, and the ones that did were usually there to cause problems. So as you eyed up the stumbling rough and rowdy group, you didn’t have to go looking to know that they were likely trouble. Unfortunately, as Jesse often liked to remind you, with a deep laugh and elbow to your ribs, trouble usually came looking for you.

“Hey,“ The tallest one slurred as he looked you up and down. “Come here often?”

“Yup.” Your reply was curt, and you hoped they would take the hint when you turned back to face the bar.

Instead, a hand came to your shoulder.

“Hey, I was talking to you.” He was suddenly close, his breath rank and hot on your face as he yanked you towards. “You think you’re too good for us.”

“Don’t touch me.” You took a full step away as you warned him.

“Slummin’ it here with all these test tube freaks.” He closed in on you again. “Let me show you what a real man can do.”

You raised your hands, about to shove him backward, when a familiar arm slid over your shoulder. Despite your guard being up, you instantly knew who was next to you.

“Problem here?”

Your eyes didn’t move from the creep, but you could hear the eternal grin on Jesse’s face. You didn’t mistake the grin for carelessness. Instead, you knew it was just Jesse. He was always calm until he wasn’t.

“Ahh, I see. No problem.” The man stumbled back into his friends before muttering under his breath. “Freak fucker.”

“What did you call them?”

Your head snapped up at the sudden change in tone in Jesse’s voice. He wasn’t grinning anymore. His hand left your shoulder as he began to stiffen at your side. The man didn’t realize his mistake as he kept hurling insults your way.

“They’re just another slut for you meat droids. The Republic needs to end the war so they can take you all out with the trash.”

In split seconds, Jesse lept past you. He swung, his fist connecting with the creep’s jaw, sending him reeling backwards. He threw another jab, catching the man with a blow to the nose before he stumbled out of Jesse’s reach.

Your stomach dropped as one of the friends lunged for Jesse, whose gaze was still on the instigator. But never one to be caught off guard, Jesse side-stepped the second man in the same moment he spun, landing a uppercut into the man’s stomach.

You balled your fists, ready to follow Jesse when another hand came to your shoulder. You cocked a fist back but Kix’s voice found you before you could swing.

“You jump in, you just make it worse for him.”

You huffed in response. Kix wasn’t wrong. You knew Jesse could handle a few nat-borns by himself and he would only be distracted if you started to fight. Still, your fist stayed balled by your side.

In the next moment, a flash of red by the door caught your eye. The Courscant Guard was here. They were always close by on busy nights, keeping the peace however they had to. The three clones positioned themselves by the door. You recognized Thorn by his helmet. He posted himself in the corner, a shiny on either on side of him. You knew he wouldn’t intervene unless he had to, but if Jesse kept at it, Thorn wouldn’t have a choice.

Kix saw Thorn too. He set his jaw and dove into the fray. He emerged with an arm wrapped around Jesse’s waist, tugging the scowling man out of the scuffle. Kix turned, tossing his brother away from the seething nat-borns before he spun around to face them again.

“Get out.” Kix pointed to the door. “Or you’re going to have a lot more meat droids to deal with.”

The instigator snarled through a bloody nose and spit at Kix’s feet. Jesse yelled out and charged for the man again. You turned to face him, stepping into his path and putting your hands on his chest. Jesse looked down at you, his face instantly softening just a bit.

“Jesse - we’re leaving now.” The words were an order but your tone was gentle, hoping you could reach the part of him that had just relaxed under your palms.

He frowned, his eyes quickly back on his target. The men were rapidly retreating out the door, with side-glances thrown at the Guards in red. You felt Jesse twitch, like he wanted to chase after them.

“It’s okay, Jess.” Kix’s voice came from behind you now, calm and quiet. “Just let go it.”

“They’re not worth it.” You lifted one palm to Jesse’s face, laying it on his cheek with just enough pressure to coax him into looking at you. “Please, Jesse.”

His hand came up to your forearm, giving you a gentle squeeze.

“Okay,” The words were breathy as they left his mouth. “Okay, okay. You’re right.”

You lifted to meet his lips, capturing him in a quick, grateful kiss.

He exhaled as you pulled away, breaking the brief kiss. You ran your thumb along his cheekbone, tracing the lower rim of his tattoo. Then your hand fell to find his hand at his side.

“Let’s go home.”

You tugged him towards the exit. As you pulled Jesse out of the club, you threw on glance back to search over his shoulder, quickly finding the familiar eyes of Kix. He tilted his head in question, and you nodded in reassurance. He smiled back and raised his glass in a grateful salute before he turned back to the dancefloor. Jesse followed you to the door in a daze. The adrenaline of the fight had worn off, and he hung almost limp as he drifted behind you.

By the time you got back to your apartment, Jesse was almost catatonic. His lids hung heavy over his eyes as he sank onto the edge of your bed. He hadn’t said a word since you left 79’s. You were starting to get worried. Rather than press him to talk, you went to the kitchen and got a wet washcloth. Returning to find him unmoved in the bedroom, you knelt before him. Coaxing him to take off his shoes, you placed them next to yours at the end of the bed. Then you turned your attention to his bruised knuckles. Taking his calloused hand in yours, you started to dab at the scrapped skin.

“You… you don’t have to do that.” Jesse stuttered as he finally spoke.

“I’m happy to, Jesse.” You tried to smile up at him but his sleepy gaze had turned into a wide eyed stare and it caught you off guard.

“No, I mean you shouldn’t have to do that.” He yanked his hand out of yours.

You barely had time to wonder at his sudden movement before he was up on his feet, pacing across your small bedroom.

“Jesse, talk to me.” You kept your voice gentle, not out of fear but out of caring. You wanted him to know you were there for him.

“You deserve better, you know.”

You frowned but before you could protest, Jesse spoke again, never breaking his relentless stride.

“I’m sorry. I’m just a hothead. All I know is how to fight.” Jesse ran his fingers over his broken knuckles. “You deserve more than that.”

He finally stopped his pacing as he caught his form in the full length mirror that hung on your wall. His frown grew as he studied himself.

“Look at me.” His shoulders slumped and his eyes fell to the floor. “I was bred for this. Bred to be a soldier and that’s all I’ll ever be.”

You quickly clambered to your feet. He didn’t move from his position in front of the mirror. You stood behind him, savoring his closeness for a moment. You wrapped your arms around him at his waist and pulled him in tight to you.

“I love your fire, Jesse. I love that you’re a fighter.”

He let out a single dry laugh. It was so soulless, so unlike Jesse. You held him a little closer.

“Look at you, Jesse.” You settled your head on his shoulder, stretching to peer at your combined reflections. “You want to know what I see?”

He finally raised his head, hesitantly meeting your eyes.

“I see how passionately you care, how you love so strongly that you would go to war for those you care about. Your brothers know that. They love and respect you for that. But that fire isn’t all you are.”

“You can make me smile on the hardest of days. You keep calm in far more situations than you give yourself credit for. You like to pretend you don’t care but I can see how deeply you do.” You dug your fingers into his shirt, gripping his ribs, trying to convey how much you wanted him. “Don’t ever say you’re just a soldier. You’re so much more than that, Jesse.”

Jesse’s eyes were shining as his reflection stared back at you. He took your arm from his waist and tugged you in front of him, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders folding you into his warmth. You reached up and held onto his arms like he was the only liferaft in the sea. He started to grin again. You leaned your head back into him with a sigh and a smile.

“I’m so lucky to have met you.” Jesse murmured as he kissed the top of your head.

“We’re both lucky.”

You turned your head to lay a gentle kiss on his bicep. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the smirk on his face widen just a little. He pressed a kiss to your neck. And then another. You tilted your head, giving him more access to your sensitive flesh. One of hands that laid across your chest searched out your pert nipple and began to tease it gently through the rough fabric of your shirt. You leaned back into him with a soft moan, grinding your hips against him, feeling him harden behind you. Jesse’s lips found your ear.

“Oh, cyare,” Jesse’s words were dark and husky. “You don’t know what you do to me.”

His other hand snaked its way down your front, finding the waistline of your pants. Jesse pushed the fabric aside, sinking one knuckle into your already wet center.

“See what you do to me.” You breathlessly muttered. “Jesse, I need you.”

His hands jumped to your waist to find the hem of your shirt. Gentle fingers traced a line up your side, gathering your shirt as he went. Jesse paused at your mid-waist and looked at you. You nodded, giving him permission to proceed. He whipped the top off of you in the next moment. You spun to face him, needy for the feeling of his skin on yours. You tugged at the ends of his shirt, and he quickly obliged. You ran your hands over his chest, savoring the warmth of his skin and the sturdy build of his muscles.

Jesse bent to meet you and quickly captured your lips in his, kissing you deeply. He still tasted like a hint of whiskey. His tongue swirled with yours in a bruising fury and you felt yourself craving more of him. You broke apart for a moment, both turning your attention to your pants. The last bits of clothing was quickly removed and kicked aside.

Jesse spun you around to face the mirror and then pressed his wide palm on the small of your back, coaxing you into bending over. You gave into his directions, bringing a hand to the wall on either side of the mirror. You felt him run his length along your aching slit. You let out a breathy moan as he brushed along your clitoris, your head falling and eyes closing at the glorious friction.

“Oh no, cyare,” Jesse’s back was suddenly pressed against you, and his hand was on your jaw. He guided your head back up so you were staring into his deep brown eyes.

“That’s it,” he nipped at your neck as he stood again, lining himself up. “Let me see those eyes.”

You stared up at him, meeting his dark look in the mirror. His pupils were blown. Jesse stood again, towering over you. You bit your lip as you studied the breathtaking man for the briefest moment.

Then he entered you. His member filled you, reaching your furthest depths at this angle. The ache of being so full was quickly replaced by a overwhelming pleasure as Jesse’s hand snaked its way around you, deftly finding your already sensitive nub again. He teased small circles as he slowly began to move, dragging his cock from you before swiftly entering you again. Soon, his hips pistoned into you and you pushed back off of the wall, meeting him with every stroke. His other hand held your hip on a strong grip. You cried out his name as a wave of orgasm overtook you. Jesse followed behind, filling you as he finished.

You stood up and swayed on weak legs. Jesse quickly gathered you into his chest, showering your shoulders with kisses.

“Thank you.” He whispered against your skin.

“Always.” You sighed, leaning back into him. The next words left your mouth before you even considered them. “I love you, Jesse.”

Your stomach dropped for a moment. You knew you meant it but maybe it was too soon, too early. Before you could take it back, you looked to him in the mirror. His dark brown eyes found your suddenly wide ones and they were bright, all lust replaced with a vast joy. He quickly spun you to face him. Cupping your face in his hands, he tilted you up towards him.

“I love you too.”

His lips captured yours and his hands fell to wrap around your waist. Your heart soared as he squeezed you tighter to him.

“Now come on,” Jesse smirked before he stepped backwards, tuggiing you towards the bed. “I’m not done with you yet.”

[traumasurvivors]

Your trauma is valid even if it came from something people don't typically think of as traumatic.

[sagstelliums]

What women say about you (pac) *follower request

Pile 1

I see that women say you’re a hard worker and you’re someone who doesn’t hold grudges, they say that you’re too busy with your own life or success to worry about drama. They say you’re good at healing yourself and you’re good at moving on/letting go, they say that you’re focused and consistent that’s why you get what you want. They say that you’re intimidating and your success or what you do for work is intimidating, people at work may be intimidated by you. Signs- Taurus/scorpio. Initials- F, U, G, T

Pile 2

I see that they say you’re physically attractive or dreamy, they say that being around you feels nostalgic. They say that you have a lot of suitors or experience in love, they say that they understand why people are so attracted to you. They say that you get undeserved hate online or some of them give you hate online because they’re jealous, I see that they say they secretly see you as competition and they’re intimidated by you. They say you have a nice car or you’re good at driving, they say that you naturally stand out. Signs- Virgo/gemini. Initials- K, E, Y, X

Pile 3

I see that they say you’re lucky but you’re not financially stable or you’re good at budgeting, for some of you they say that you hit the jackpot and you became financially stable unexpectedly so that’s why they want you back. They say that they want you back in their life so they can spend time with you, they say that you’re good at distancing yourself or minding your business. They say you like to be drama free but you’re good at being sneaky or getting information without trying too hard. Signs- cancer/pisces. Initials- D, H, Y

Personal readings always available

PNGs by @girasois @llocket @florietas. Divider by @thecutestgrotto

[jqmunson]

For your modesty, dude.

😏 🎸

Follower request (3/3)

@mrsjellymunson

[asktheheirofslytherin]

Someone pls draw this ice cream cone with an ego and magic as a goose.

Someone please do not.

[sotwk]

Taken (Eomer x unnamed OC) - Part 2 of 3

Part 1 / Part 3

Love Confession feat. Eomer Eadig

Valentine 2023 Event by @sotwk

Summary: Eomer is determined to convince the woman he loves of his long-hidden devotion, but the obligations of his new crown and her baseborn origins shake her faith in their future together.

Prompt: "It's hard for me to describe what I feel for you… but just know that it's love nonetheless."

Requested by and Dedicated to: @laneynoir You've probably forgotten about making this Valentine ask, but I remember and write down everything you ask of me! <3 Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 3.9k

Content: Angsty romance, declarations of love, jealousy, mutual pining, class division, shield-maiden, King Eomer, post-RotK, non-canon pairing

Rating: T (Teens and up)

Warnings: Excessive angst? Verbal passion? This is clean but it will do a number on your feels.

To Read on AO3: Link

Tumblr Post for Taken, Part 1: Link

Taken 

Third Age 3019 May 2

Minas Tirith, Gondor

PART TWO

“My lord, are you certain it is safe for you to go without a proper escort?” 

Eomer cast a taut but amused smirk at Haleth, son of Hama, over the horse they had just finished tacking up together. His new squire, one of the youngest fighters to survive the Battle of Hornburg, had been appointed to the post just very recently, and so still had much to learn. 

Eomer dismissed the given counsel that a king needed someone with experience in his direct service, not a novice that required training. He had seen with his own eyes how bravely Hama’s orphaned boy had helped to defend the refugees at the Glittering Caves; in Eomer’s eyes, the child had earned the honor several times over.

“Surely you don’t mean to imply that the King of the Horse-lords is incapable of defending himself on a short ride?”

“No, sire. It is just…” Haleth’s eyes darted about nervously and he lowered his voice. “You ride with a woman. If something were to happen, would you not have to defend yourself and her as well?”

At that, Eomer chuckled. “I commend your gallant instincts lad, but I advise you not to make such an insinuation in the presence of a known shield-maiden. They do not take kindly to having their abilities questioned, and will be quick to set you right.” He patted his squire’s shoulder to show that no offense was taken. “Rest assured that the lady is more than capable of holding her own, and of shielding me from harm if need be.” 

The boy need not know that Eomer would sooner die than put her in that position. He had kept that a secret from her and the rest of his Éored for years, although perhaps a little too successfully and to his own detriment.  

Riding Firefoot into the white-stone square courtyard that connected the galleries of stables, Eomer quickly saw that she was already waiting for him, standing alert beside her own horse. Greywind, a dappled mare that bore no meager resemblance to her equine brother, tossed her head and whickered softly at Firefoot's approach. It was a warmer reception than his master received.

"Good morning, my lord," the shield-maiden acknowledged with a nod as curt as her tone. Royal protocol satisfied, she turned and swung up into the saddle of her own steed. 

Her cold shoulder was to be his comeuppance, then. So be it. Her silent rages were nothing Eomer had not seen, borne, and successfully navigated before. 

But today, this time, would be different. Everything was sure to be different after that kiss, which, after a sleepless night of pondering and self-debating, he would still swear on Bema was no mistake. Clumsy perhaps, but an action he did not regret leaping into. There was no part of Eomer that did not desire to repeat it, over and over. 

First, he must resolve the confusion his recklessness had caused. 

"Follow my lead,” he said, and spurred Firefoot on toward the exit gates. 

His command came from habits formed over years of riding together, and so did her immediate obedience. Her loyalty had always been faultless; loyalty to Rohan, loyalty to him. Whenever he called and whatever he asked for, she gave, just as she came to meet him now, regardless of what had transpired between them last night. 

This new epiphany that her devotion to him might be encouraged not just by duty, but a love to reciprocate his, still felt like too much to hope for. 

They rode side by side down the levels of Minas Tirith, and soon were past the city’s great white walls. At the slightest shift of his master’s weight, Firefoot burst into a full charge down the North-way, rejoicing at the freedom to run across open land once more, an impatience that mirrored Eomer’s own. Next to them, Greywind and rider matched their gait to keep up, and they tore their way for several miles northward into Pelennor. 

Eomer’s body sang at the rush of the wind over his skin, through his hair and his cloak that streamed over Firefoot’s haunches. Too long had he been cooped up within the city walls, tethered to the duties of his new office. It still felt unseemly for him to carry the title of King while his uncle had yet to be properly laid to rest among his forebears, but he was determined to serve in every manner his people required. 

This involved taking guidance from his newly formed council, who seemed to believe that the first order of business was to reaffirm and restrengthen Rohan's alliance with Gondor. In the weeks that followed the great feast at Cormallen, Eomer spent more time with new acquaintances, lords and ladies from the noblest families of Gondor, than with his own men. His Éored, who had been the rock at his side for nearly the whole of the past year, were granted time to rest and convalesce according to their desires, and every one eagerly embraced the offered leave.

That included her, most painfully and noticeably. Each day that passed by filled with council meetings and formal dinners but nearly nothing of her, had dragged Eomer further into despair. When she finally reappeared for the coronation, dressed the way she was…small wonder that he finally lost hold on propriety the moment he touched her. 

In seemingly no time at all, they left it all behind. The high ramparts and looming towers of the grand city turned into a white speck on the mountainside. So far out north into the fields and away from the main road, they had separated themselves from the thousands that had flocked to the city to celebrate the coronation, and retreated into the peace of the vast plains that bore some semblance to their home. 

Eomer eased Firefoot into a relaxed pace and she followed suit. Afterward they were blanketed in silence but for the clink of tack and thud of hooves on the long grass finally regrown in the end of Pelennor’s strifes. 

One sideways glance showed Eomer that she remained resolved to look anywhere but in his direction. No matter. If she refused to look at him, he would gladly stare at her, and take his fill of what he had been deprived of for weeks. 

He had forgotten what a vision she made outside of armor, so long had they lived in battle gear. The gown she wore to the coronation ball had distracted him all evening, but it painted her beauty too foreign. The plain clothes of their people suited her best. On her, the wine-red dress underneath her green Rider’s cloak outstripped any fine silk confection. Her hair, usually held back in tight braids or trapped underneath a war helm, flowed in free waves that tumbled to her waist and made his fingers ache with longing. 

To see her in this manner reminded him of what Rohirrim sacrifice had achieved: the end to a life of constant peril, and in its place, domestic bliss. Eomer knew he would be wholly content to look upon her this way forever. And by Bema, by all the Valar that might hear, he prayed that she would let him. 

Another mile or two passed in the bleak silence before the skies gave him the opening he needed. The faint drizzle that had lazily harried them gradually intensified into a downpour, and the menacing grey clouds above rumbled a fair warning. 

Eomer pointed to a copse of beeches in the distance. “That should suffice for us to wait out the worst of it,” he said, and they directed their horses into the thicket. 

After releasing Firefoot and Greywind to find cover and graze at their leisure, they took their shelter underneath the tree with the most generous canopy. As Eomer watched her gather the cascade of her soaked hair over one shoulder, she happened to raise her eyes in his direction and catch his gaze. Her face remained impassive, but she did not look away again. She knew she could no longer delay what he had requested her company for. 

“May we speak now?”

The tense lines on her brow softened. “My lord,” she said, in a tone that was almost contrite. “I am here to listen to whatever you wish to say.”

��Good,” Eomer said, and needed one more breath to steady himself. “Good...” 

"Long has there been great camaraderie between us as comrades in arms, but in time that deepened into…more meaningful affection.” When she did not flinch at that attestation, he carried on. “After last night, it is clear that we must lay bare the extent of our feelings and finally be open with each other."

Her mouth trembled. “My lord--”

“I love you,” Eomer said. “I recognize no plainer truth than that. I am no bard or scholar, and so it is hard for me to describe what I feel for you...as it would be hard for anyone to explain the glory of the sun or the vastness of the skies. But you must know that it is love, nonetheless."

She remained silent at this, and her clenched jaw told him no response was forthcoming. But he had more. 

“These past years, Rohan’s protection occupied all of my waking thoughts. There was no time to consider ambitions for myself. And what need did I have for that, when the sole object of my desires rode in my company to every battle? But after all our years together, I suppose I began to take for granted that you would always be close by, even while I drowned in fear that one sword stroke could separate us forever."

He edged a step closer to her, driven by the mere suggestion of such unspeakable loss. 

“When you grew distant after Theodred's passing, I awoke to my folly. I wished to blame your withdrawal from me on your grief, but my jealous mind whispered that my long buried suspicions were confirmed, that you had always desired his devotion over mine. I wrestled with the torment from it, until last night, when you gave me reason to hope again.” 

“But..but I did not…y-you had never…” She cut off her own stammering and squared herself determinedly before continuing. “I never found sufficient cause to believe you could care for me so, my lord.” 

“The fault is mine for not being forthright with you from the start. I will do whatever I must to remedy that now.” Suddenly they were face to face on the same side of the tree, for she had not thought to dart away from his advances this time. “I would shout it from the very spire of their great Tower if it will end your doubts.” 

He reached for her, and the edge of his hand found her chin. Contrary to his bold declaration he repeated, barely above a whisper: “I love you.” 

“No,” she murmured back. “Please. You must not say such things.” 

“Why not, when it is the truth?”

“Because it is a truth you cannot act on.”

Eomer’s hand dropped to his side as he barked a humorless laugh. “Granted I have not held the role for very long, but that seems a peculiar thing to tell a King.”

“You are the King now, and that binds you to do things according to your duty, not according to your desire.” She lowered her head. “That is the truth that matters, my lord. Love cannot always prevail over everything.”

The familiar frustration marked with dread clawed at Eomer again. “My love for you will prevail over this,” he vowed. “Moreso because it is love returned.”

Only the sound of splattering rainfall followed, and the realization that she was starting to turn away.

“You… you do love me.”

“I do not.”

The ensuing crack of thunder paled against the shock her reply struck in Eomer. She slipped away from his side once more while he fumbled through his recollections of the previous night.

Drunk as he had been on the taste of her kisses, he could not have misunderstood her impassioned outburst. You are all I ever see, even when I do not wish to!  He had dissected that precious confession over and over in his head and basked in sweeter hope that he had ever dared to feel about anything.

“I will not accept that. I do not believe it!”

In a handful of strides he overtook her as she fled to the edge of the grove, where the trees stood further apart and exposed them to the deluge. 

“What is causing you to deny me? Deny yourself, deny us?!” She attempted to step around him, but Eomer blocked her progress relentlessly. “Is it that misguided belief of yours that I am, in your words, ‘taken’?” 

Finally she succumbed and stood in place, cold and drenched and as stock-still as a soldier holding the line. But Eomer found the answer clear on her grimace. 

"Do you mistake me for some bull that has been put on the market for the highest bidder? Or believe me so feeble that I have no control over my choice of wife?!"

She stiffened at his rising rebuke and shook her head. “Not just a wife, my lord. A Queen. You must choose the right woman to offer to Rohan as our long-awaited Queen.”

“Marry me and it is done.”

Immediately her eyes widened and her face blanched, as his bluntness finally plowed through her shields.  “Oh Eomer,” she breathed, and the return of his name on her lips nearly rendered him as dazed as she was. 

He moved to embrace her, but she clutched him by the forearms, guarding her space. He felt her fingers tremble as they dug into the fabric of his tunic sleeves. He thought he might have heard a sob, but in the rain it was impossible to discern the source of the drops slipping down her cheeks. 

“I know you are wiser than that,” she told him. “You know Rohan’s political realities, regardless of your distaste for them. Your rise to your uncle’s throne has separated us by a chasm that cannot be bridged.” She sensed his intention to interrupt and spoke even louder. “I am an orphaned stray, Eomer. Theodred’s favor may have rescued me from a life of insignificance, but I am still baseborn by anyone's standards. Yet however lowly I am, I can hold my head up with pride, because I have always known my place.”

“As do I.” Eomer slid his hand up the curve of her neck. “Your place is with me.”

“Yes it is.” Her smile was joyless as she gripped his wrist to keep his obvious desires at bay. “I belong at your side, on the open fields, with a sword in my hand, ready to give my life for you at a moment's notice. You gifted me with purpose, and riding in your company has brought me such honor. Please do not ask me to play a role where I will only fail and return to an object of derision.”

Eomer frowned. “I have only ever loved you. No one else is suitable for me to take to wife.”

She lifted those beautiful eyes to stare dead-evenly at him for the first time in months. “Dol Amroth,” she whispered. “The daughter of Prince Imrahil.”

The sadness in her eyes lifted the fog of ignorance that obfuscated him. He recognized that pain as the very same one that had pierced him each time he watched her in Theodred’s company. The way they smiled at each other, their intimate touches, their freely exchanged affection that made his stomach twist with envy. But he had been wrong in his interpretation of that situation, and so was she on this one. 

“What of her?” he said brusquely, pushing aside his full realization of what she was implying. 

“One does not have to sit at the council table to see the soundness of your match.”

“There is no match!”

“Then there will be and there should be!” she insisted. “Everyone sees it, and if you tell me you do not, then you have no right to accuse me of denying what is true.”

A low growl rumbled off Eomer and suddenly he was the one to swivel away, rubbing his face and rain-matted beard while he weighed his answer.

“I do not deny that overtures have been made by advisors, both mine and King Elessar's," he said finally. "Lothiriel does seem an obvious candidate to put forward as a consort for the King of Rohan. But that appropriateness has nothing to do with me. Had Theodred survived to stand in my place, they would be pushing her to him. Have I been counseled on the benefits of an alliance with Imrahil's house? Oh yes--with the subtlety of a hammer's blow. But I barely paid heed to that, since all that mattered to me was your opinion on the subject."

"My opinion," she echoed. She planted her hands on her hips and studied her muddied boots for a long moment. "I can offer you what I know. You, Eomer King, will be the greatest ruler the Mark has ever seen. Your rule deserves every opportunity it can claim, and this offer of an alliance with Dol Amroth is one you cannot dismiss. I have heard nothing but praise and approval at the prospect, from mouths both common and noble."

"Princess Lothiriel is young, and beautiful, and beloved. Her blood is of the most distinguished and most powerful house in Gondor. She will give you exactly what you need. What Rohan needs."

She suddenly came forward to cradle Eomer's face between her hands, a touch he had only experienced in dreams until then. Except this was more akin to his worst nightmare. His inner wretchedness must have become evident in his furrowed brow and was too pitiful to ignore. "Moreover she will adore you, if she has not fallen already, for no maiden has ever lived whose heart you cannot ensnare.”

“Do not flatter me in one breath only to spurn me in the next,” Eomer muttered. “I did not ask for you to wax poetic about my future with another woman. I want your thoughts about all that matters. Us.”

“Us?”

She tried to withdraw her hands, but Eomer caught them in time, and held them firm against his chest, as if it could make her feel how consumed his heart was by her. 

“Once I might have carried hope for us,” she said softly. “Hope that I could one day be enough, because I knew you cared for Rohan above all else and admired my dedication to our people. I thought perhaps in time, that admiration might grow to love, as mine did so quickly after I met you."

“But it did, it--”

Her hands jerked inside his grip, their next attempt at escape futile. “Any hope I had for us died with Theodred,” she said tersely. “When his charge as the King's heir passed on to you. Let it rest with him.”

The roll of receding thunder brought Eomer back to a distinct memory of that dreadful day at Isen. The raw anguish on her face as she looked up at him with Theodred's head on her lap. Her frightened reluctance at releasing the prince for Eomer to take on Firefoot. 

It had rained too when Eomer came to bring her the news of his passing not a day later. Ignoring the heavy downpour, she ran out to meet him as he approached her cottage, and broke down before he could get the words out. He had to lead her back inside and wrap her in a blanket before she caught a chill. She clung tightly to him as he held her for a long while, bewildered by her sobs. It was the only time he had ever seen her weep. 

Only then did it dawn on Eomer: it was not just the loss of Theodred that she had mourned. 

“Run away with me.” 

It burst from his lips without a thought. 

“Wh-What? No!” She yanked away from him with such force he was left grasping for empty air. 

“Come with me, and let us run away together.” He rushed after her as she strode toward their horses. She already knew his mind, but he also knew hers, and there was nothing left for him to employ to sway her to his thinking. Nothing but this brazen proposal. 

“Away to where?!” she cried, without bothering to look his way. She came up to Greywind and seized her saddle pommel, but Eomer’s hand closed around hers, stilling her progress. 

“Anywhere. Far enough to take you away from all this--” Eomer swung out his free arm in a gesture as wild as the fervor in his eyes. “Away from everything that is confusing you.”

She started shaking her head vigorously and backing away. “Eomer, no. You are mad!”

“Do not tell me that!” Eomer lurched forward in pursuit, yet knew better than to grab her. She could not lose him out here where there was nowhere to hide. But he would lose her if she shut him out again by refusing to listen. 

“Do not tell me I am mad when the only madness is you believing we do not deserve a future together!” Each time he blocked her path, she pivoted in another direction, and he immediately swerved to repeat the dance. “Madness is you rejecting a man who yearns for you more than a mortal heart could possibly bear, clinging to the barefaced lie that you do not feel exactly the same.”

At that, she fell still. In the stillness Eomer realized that the rainstorm had finally dissipated, and in studying her face, he noticed the drops that continued to slip from the edges of her closed eyes, gliding to her quivering jaw. 

“You know as well as I that we belong together.” He caught one of the tears with the edge of his thumb, smoothing his finger over her soft, flushed skin. “So let us take the road west and… and just keep riding. Let me take you home. Our people here will follow soon enough, and when they arrive we can meet them as man and wife.”

“Eomer,” she sighed, before falling silent, her eyes still shut. He hoped she would take her time finding ease, so she may really consider his offer. But she responded immediately, too quickly, once again. “We cannot just abandon our obligations.”

“You insist we cannot, but we can. You can do whatever you wish. You just need to decide what that is--"

“No! No, no, no…” The word morphed into whimpers on her lips, an effort to drown him out.

“--and that is all I ask. That you shut out thoughts of all else and answer truly, from your heart." Something in Eomer’s throat tightened, as though an invisible hand had seized his neck and threatened to choke him. He swallowed and persisted with all the courage he could muster. "Will you marry me?"

“No.”

“Please.” It tasted bitter on his tongue, for Eomer son of Eomund had never begged for anything in his life, even as it took the last shreds of pride for him not to fall on his knees in his final bid. “I am asking you for the truth. Your truth alone. Do you want me?”

Her eyes fluttered open, bearing the steely determination and battle strength that had won his respect years ago, and in that moment Eomer saw that that inner fire he loved would now crush him.

“No,” she answered. “I do not.”

To be continued in Part 3...

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