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sotwk · 1 year

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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...

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doctorgerth · 2 years

Text

a/n: This one was so much fun to write!! Mihawk is always daunting to write for at first, but I always end up having fun and am usually pretty happy with the results when it comes to him. Want to know if Mihawk gets a smooch? Read on to find out! 🥰

pairing: Mihawk x GN!Reader

word count: 1.4k

candy heart prompt: True Love - Something on their/your lips

MIHAWK + TRUE LOVE

It was the first beautiful day Kuraigana had experienced in quite some time.

The thick fog that perpetually decorated the war-torn land was lifted, and the clouds above were broken enough to allow rays of warm, unfiltered sunshine illuminate the hidden beauty of the gloomy island.The lush greenery and produce the three of you had worked so hard to maintain practically sang in the light of the sun. Leaves glistened with dew, some reaching toward the rare blessing of light as if to grab it and hold onto it. It was a perfect day for farming.

“It’s such a beautiful day,” you sighed happily, stretching your arms out above you. Mihawk grinned from beside you, but you were too busy basking in the comforting warmth to notice.

“It is rather…bright,” Perona stated as she gripped her umbrella tighter.

Mihawk thought quietly to himself, determining that Perona’s discomfort might work to his advantage for once, “Perona, how about you go back to the castle and prepare some snacks. The weather is nice, maybe we can have a picnic.” He felt his heart squeeze in his chest when you smiled widely in his direction, your head nodding enthusiastically.

“Don’t order me around!” She huffed, though a reprieve from the too-bright sun sounded ideal. She turned the other direction and floated towards the castle.

“Oh, and don’t forget to pack something for the humandrills!” you called out to her.

“What am I, everyone’s servant?” She stomped her foot in annoyance and puffed out her cheeks, “I’m too cute to be bossed around like this…”

When Perona was out of sight, you laughed to yourself, “She’s particularly moody today.”

Mihawk hummed beside you as he dropped some seeds into the earth, “And it’s only going to get worse.” He used a hand shovel to gently pat the dirt back over the seeds.

You peered over at him, “What do you mean?”

He laid the shovel down beside him and wiped his gloves along his dirt-stained pants. Retrieving a folded up newspaper page from his back pocket, he handed it over to you. Your eyes scanned the paper, the bold title Gecko Moria Alive! caught your eyes instantly. It was a strange sensation. You had no ties to Moria aside from his pink-haired subordinate, but still, for Perona’s sake, you felt warm tears well up in your eyes.

“Oh, Mihawk, she’s going to be so happy,” you said in a hushed whisper, though Perona was hardly in earshot, “And also really angry that you haven’t told her sooner. This newspaper is from three days ago.”

He chuckled, “I know.”

You felt a pang in your chest, “I suppose that’s another chick leaving the nest.” You were still recovering from Zoro’s departure and now Perona was soon to follow. You’d grown quite accustomed to your family you shared in the last two years. Though two years wasn’t a very long time comparatively, it felt like it’s always been the four of you.

“It’s for the best,” he replied, “Danger is coming.”

You stiffened, “You don’t mean…?”

“I believe the Reverie attendants are going to vote in favor of the abolishment of the Warlords. That means Marines will be surrounding this place very soon,” he sighed and closed his eyes. “I don’t want Perona to get in harm's way for something that doesn’t involve her.”

You smiled in his direction, “You’re a kind man, Dracule Mihawk.” The tightness in your chest was easily replaced with gentle thumping. If anyone else were to refer to him as kind, he’d scoff in their direction. Hearing it from you, he felt a familiar heat creep up his neck.

Much like Zoro and Perona, Mihawk just ended up being stuck with you a few years ago. He warily offered his hospitality, but miraculously, it didn’t take long for Mihawk to warm up to you. When you proved yourself to him, you became the unofficial first mate to his unofficial crew. Though, with your time together on Kuraigana, you hardly acted as Captain and Crewmate. You tended the land together, sought peace with the humandrills together, and lived your day to day lives in the castle of Kuraigana together. Waking, working, and wasting the days away together. You weren’t sure what you were to Mihawk, but it definitely felt different than a mere subordinate.

“I suppose it’ll just be us again, then.” The thought of it going back to just the two of you simultaneously excited and saddened you. Mihawk looked over to you. He didn’t utter a single word, just stared. Though you’d assumed you’d be used to the intensity of his hawk-like eyes, they still had a way of making you feel embarrassingly shy. You absentmindedly wiped at the sweat forming on your upper lip. The sun was beginning to burn.

Just the two of you. Mihawk always loved the sound of that. Though he’d enjoyed his time training Zoro and cooking with Perona, he often thought fondly of when it was just the two of you. Why then did it make him so nervous to return to that? The dab of soil on your upper lip caught his attention and stole his thoughts.

You had mistaken his silent staring as a denial to your statement, “Unless you intend to send me away with Perona?” Your throat suddenly constricted. Surely he didn’t mean that. “Mihawk, I know things are about to get intense, but I promise I can protect myself and will help you with whatever you need. Just don’t…”

You stopped your sentence when Mihawk shifted beside you to turn and face you. His right hand reached up to your face and you waited with bated breath as you were unable to process what was happening. Mihawk’s never touched you like that before. You gasped when his finger swiped across your upper lip. Holy shit, he was going to kiss you. You instinctively closed your eyes and sighed against his finger, awaiting his lips to meet yours. A cool, empty breeze brushed against them instead.

“I’m sorry. You had dirt on your lip,” he said simply.

How embarrassing. You felt unbelievably hot under the small pockets of sunshine now, “Right, of course. Thank you.”

You wanted to leave his hold, leave the garden, leave the whole entire island, but Mihawk held you firmly; his left hand mirroring his right as they both caressed your face gently, “I’m not going to send you away, (Y/N). I want you by my side.” His face lowered to yours, noses brushing. The words he spoke stole your breath from your parted lips, “Stay with me as long as you wish.”

“Mihawk…” you managed to huff out. His name on your lips, so unfamiliar in this low tone — he could drink it right up. How long has he been holding himself back from falling completely into you?

“Say it, please,” he murmured. The movement of his lips caused them to bump against yours. A tease of a kiss, “Say you’ll stay with me.”

“Mihawk,” you whimpered once more. You weren’t sure you’d be able to say anything else. Not when his intoxicating warmth and tender embrace was robbing you of air. But, you wanted him to know how you felt. How you’ve always felt since joining his side, “I want to be with you forever.”

Your confession was the gravitational pull to at last close the distance between the two of you. His lips slotted against yours with promise, a silent oath to stay with you and protect you for however long you’d want him to. Your skin no longer burned, instead kissed by sunlight as his lips rained down on you, moving with yours as if he’s planned this moment out for years. In truth, he wished he’d done so much sooner.

You pulled away for air, but Mihawk wouldn’t, couldn’t stop. His lips tickled against your tender pulse line as he continued his kisses along your neck, pulling you tightly into him by your waist. He muttered confessions in-between kisses. How long he’s wanted you. How long he’s loved you. How long he’ll continue to want you. How long he’ll continue to love you. Forever, forever, forever. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him back up to your aching lips to let him know you reciprocated his devotion. Years of unchecked desire was evident in the urgency of your shared kisses, spilling forth like an endless fountain as you lost all sense of time against each other’s lips. Nothing would hold either of you back now.

Perona rounded a corner and caught sight of the two of you embracing each other. She silently gagged, but decided to leave the both of you to your moment. The sun was a little too bright for her anyhow. As she turned and floated away, a smile stretched along her face. She always thought the two of you would be cute together.

a/n: Hate to see him go, but love to see him kissed 💋 We unfortunately say goodbye to Mihawk for this event, but I have a feeling we’ll see him around in the future. 🤭 Thanks for reading!!

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blackwood4stucky · 6 months

Text

hoping these roses dull the pain, cover the scars and turn the page

author: aspen blackwood

james “bucky” barnes x steve rogers | mcu

masterpost | 🅴 | 🔞 | word count: 3,360 | complete

tags: alpha x alpha, drugged, forced sex, non con body bod, non traditional omegaverse, triggered mating, secondary gender modification, dark elements

"A peculiar scent fills Steve’s nose as he wakes slowly. He knows that scent, it is one that still haunts him, that whispers his failures in his ears like prayers." - There were turncoats on the Lemurian Star.

bingo fills + event prompts

ch. 1: hoping these roses dull the pain, cover the scars and turn the page

@anyfandomangstbingo | barely conscious

@anyfandomdarkbingo | fuck or die

@anyfandomgoesbingo | possessive alpha

@anyfandomkinkbingo | handcuffs

@badthingshappenbingo | mutilation

@buckybarnesevents

alpha bucky april | breeding kink + purring + double minimum requirement babb 2023 | failed mission [april prompt] babb 2023 [babb060] | held down connect 4 [c4013] | c1: sex slave

@catws-anniversary | theme: bucky barnes - metal arm

@deaddovekink

frisky february | drugged sex monsterfcking march | shapeshifting: transforming during sex

@eclipsingbingo | trail of blood

@fandom-free-bingo: valentine’s edition | aphrodisiac, bound

@hurtcember | forced

@julybreakbingo: post-july | sex pollen

@kinky-things-happen | transformation

@marvel-smash-bingo | forced orgasm

@mcukinkbingo: open round | torture

@multifandom-flash

omegaverse | forced mating round 2 [1028] | free space

scalding hot: consent issues bingo | non con body mod: extra fuck holes

@sebastianstanbingo | sex slave

@stuckybingo [5080] | kink: breeding

@stuckygeekevents: stucky geek bingo | captivity, kidnapped

@yearoftheotpevent | april: canon divergence

read: ao3 | ffn | sqwa

mini playlist

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blake-elladonna · 2 years

Text

♡ Blame ♡

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐀𝐤𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚 𝐱 𝐘𝐨𝐮 (𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫) 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐𝟗𝟔

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 𝟏 𝐦𝐢𝐧. 𝟐𝟔 𝐬𝐞𝐜.

𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Akutagawa knows he is to blame for your injury; no matter how You — his long time crush — try to convince him. But that won’t stop him from tending to you when you are hurt.

“Are you sure you aren’t hurting.” For some reason his statement didn’t seem to be a question, but a direct sentence; as if demanding you that it was in fact hurting and you were going to blame him for your suffering.

“I’m okay; Akutagawa. You need to—” “I need to what? Start lying to myself?”

You gave him a look while tending to your wound and his aura seemed to darken. He crossed his arms with his mind drifting away. “I’m not about to do that. I’m not going to turn into your superior; I’m not about to turn into Dazai.” “I didn’t say you needed to.”

You breathed in sharply with a flinch. The alcohol had soaked into your wound to disinfect it. The gash was nothing; at least compared to what could have been but that didn’t stop it from hurting like hell or Akutagawa from walking over. “Just, let me do it.” And although he mumbled, you heard his tone soak in dominance.

So you let him; his tone may have let on he would be rough, assertive; but his touch was the opposite of those two things. As though he was handling fine china. “You’re so annoying.”

“Oh, really? You don’t enjoy my suffering?”

“That’s not funny. You know how I feel— about—”

You knew what he was trying to say by the way his body language was closing himself off, “You’re trying to say I know how you feel about someone from the ADA. How you feel about me. Don’t you want to say it; that you’re in love with me?”

Your teasing tone caused him to squeeze lightly onto your hand once slipping underneath. “I do,” And just when you thought he had a ounce of romance; “I hate you.”

← Previous Drabble Master List Next Drabble → 🎊 ♡ Sweet tooth ♡

⇐ Last Akutagawa Drabble Next Akutagawa Drabble ⇒ 🎊 ♡ Heroic ♡

Feeling festive? Click here to read more from the Valentine’s Event!

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭: @ashthemadwriter, @sky-drgn, @silverbladexyz

𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭? 𝐂𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

#bungou stray dogs #bsd akutagawa #akutagawa x gn reader #bsd #akutagawa x you #akutagawa ryuunosuke #akutagawa x reader #akutagawa x ada reader #bsd valentine event #bsd valentine #valentines event #bsd event #akutagawa drabble #bsd drabbles #akutagawa fluff #akutagawa hurt/comfort #Drabbles 💌#Akutagawa Drabbles 💌#BSD Valentine’s Day Event 2023 🤍

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what-the-dark-has-foretold · 2 years

Note

Dainsleif or Poe you choose

With corruption kink for your event plz

Of course 🥰

Dainsleif x fem!reader

Navi

Warnings: mdni implied khaenrian princess/royalty, guard x royal, dain is a bit condescending, hand on neck, implied virgin!reader (+ corruption kink)

Wordcount: 300+

Happy Valentine's Day 💜

"How indecent," he murmured, as he watched your body - fully exposed to his darkened gaze - tremble on the white sheets. Your arms moved to cover your chest, but a simple click of his tongue halted all of your movements. "Now, now. You were getting on my nerves all day, my lady, the least you could do is reward me for my service."

Shakily, you nodded and spread your legs wider for him. He hummed in appreciation, gently gripping your thighs and spreading even them farther so he could settle comfortably between them.

Your breath quickened as you heard him unbuckle his belt, an involuntary whine escaping you. His eyes flitted up to yours, and for a moment he seemed to mull over something in his thoughts. Then, he leaned down - still grabbing your thighs and setting them on his shoulders - to press a searing kiss to your lips. His hand found your neck and he used the hold he had on you to keep you pinned as he slowly let his cock push into your clenching hole.

A satisfied groan escaped him, vibrating in his chest. You forced yourself to keep your eyes open - only gripping his shirt, bunching up the fabric in your hands at the stretch - to see his eyes squeezing shut and mouth fall open as your heat enveloped his cock.

He cussed under his breath as he finally bottomed out, absentmindedly brushing away some tears that escaped you. "I'll do this every night, from now on," he grunted as he started to move. Not waiting for a response as he thrust faster and deeper into you, drawing out sounds of your lips, not even you had heard before.

"My hands will be the only hands to ever touch you. To ever make you feel like this." He punctuated that with a particularly hard thrust that had you gasping for air, your orgasm rapidly approaching and - oh - is that what it could feel like?

#dainsleif #dainsleif x reader #dainsleif smut #genshin smut #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact smut #what-the-dark-has-foretold #mdni #smut #thirst #valentines event #valentines event 2023

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candysweetposts · 2 years

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Here it is! I love how it turned out. I chose Leif because Erika looks at him and also because I like him... and the rest, but more him.

I've noticed how rushed this is. Like the artist didn't have time to look for mistakes at all. And I'm not sure what was the process and I don't want to speculate more about this. But yeah. At some point, I looked at the game sprites and went to "accuracy mode" trying to match everything to the illustration. I'm no expert myself. I went more with what looked good in my eyes and a bit of common sense. If this was in the right hands, it would've turned out a masterpiece and everyone would've been too busy to praise it rather than criticize the art and story behind this. It's a bit odd. And it's not the first time they have done this.

#eldarya #eldarya valentine's day event 2023 #leiftan #nevra #lance #mathieu #edit #eldarya a new era #it's late

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jonsa-valentine · 2 years

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Hi Jonsa fam!

We’d like to invite you to participate in the Jonsa Valentine 2023 event. The event will take place on 13th & 14th February this year. Please find the list of event prompts below.

💕 Day 1 - 13 Feb : Letters - Flowers - Promise

💕 Day 2 - 14 Feb : Kiss - Confession - Free Choice

💕 We have included three prompts per day. You can select more than one prompt for your entry. Feel free to interpret prompts as strictly or as loosely as you wish. We just want everyone to have fun!

💕 This event will be inclusive of all types of fandom creations like fanfiction, moodboard, edits, gifset, fanart, manip, playlist, meta, poem, fan video etc.

💕 We will be tracking #Jonsa Valentine and #Jonsa Valentine 2023, so don’t forget to tag your posts accordingly. You can also tag us @jonsa-valentine while sharing your posts.

💕 In case we miss out on reblogging your entry, please feel free to send us ask with link to your post.

💕 Do not worry in case you miss out on posting your entry for a particular day. We will be accepting late entries till our master list is shared.

💕 If you have any queries regarding the event, please do not hesitate to ask!

💕 Most Important: Have fun!!!

We would very much appreciate if you could reblog this post to signal boost. We can’t wait to see all the creations!

#jonsa #jon x sansa #jon snow #sansa stark #jonsa valentine #jonsa valentine 2023 #jonsa event #actuallyjonsa

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samdeancass · 2 years

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Requested by @weirdobreakingarea51

Pairing: Damon Salvatore x fem!reader

Valentines 2023 Masterlist

Valentines Prompt List

Valentines 2023 Event

“Do you know what?! I don’t know how you can find time to drink yourself into oblivion every night but never have time to see me! It’s getting absolutely pathetic!” Tears were falling down your cheeks as you continued the blazing row you were having with Damon.

He turned around with both fury and frustration evident on his face, two expressions that he hardly ever shown you. “I’d rather be there at the bar than spend time with you! You’re always nagging me about the smallest thing, so why would I want to come and see you! Sometimes, I don’t know why we’re even together! I should just go and find another girl, someone who actually understands me!”

He regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth but before he tried to apologise, you grabbed your coat and ran out of the door with tears now streaming down your face.

Rain pounded against the hood of your coat as you walked through the park, Damon’s words swirling around in your head. You were so lost in your own thoughts that you didn’t notice a darkened figure making their way towards you. They grabbed you, turned you around and bit into your neck before throwing you on the floor, blood quickly oozing out.

“Tell Damon, he better watch his back. There’s more of us out here, just waiting for the perfect chance to strike.” He chuckled before whizzing away, leaving you to bleed out on the grass. New thoughts clouded your mind as you thought about the argument with Damon and began to cry again. That was going to be the last conversation you ever had with him, you didn’t get to tell him you love him one last time.

Darkness began to cloud your vision as you heard faint shouts coming from the other side of the park. You tried your best to get up and go towards the voice but you had lost too much blood. “Help!” You intended to shout but it came out as a tiny whisper. As the voice got closer, hope struck you as you realised it was Damon.

“Damon, over here!” You were so lucky that he had super hearing because if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have heard the strangled shout. He rushed over to you, gently pulling your back against his chest. His eyes widened a little when he seen the bite on your neck. “Hey, you’re safe now, I’ve got you.” Tears began to fall as he realised that this was all his fault.

“Damon, I-I wanna say...” He shook his head, not wanting to hear it. “No, Y/N. This isn’t goodbye.” He bit into his wrist and placed it against your mouth. “Drink, please, before it’s too late.” Usually you were completely against the idea of drinking vampire blood but in this instance, it was the only thing that would save you.

The warm liquid slipped down your throat and you leaned back against Damon’s chest, feeling the affects already working. “I’m so sorry about what I said, Y/N. It’s you, it’s always been you and it’s always going to be you. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me and I am not going to let anything like this happen again. I’m going to stop drinking and prioritise you over everything. I love you so much.”

He leaned down and placed a passionate and heartfelt kiss to your lips. You kissed him back, putting all of your emotions into it. You broke away and sat up, turning around to face him. “D, the one who attacked me, he told me to tell you to watch your back. That there’s more of them out there just waiting for the right time. What’s going to happen now?”

“Nothing, absolutely nothing is going to happen and I am going to make sure of it. Now, I’m going to get you home so you can take a shower and rest. I will come and see you first thing tomorrow.” He stood up and lifted you in his arms before whizzing you back to your house.

____________

Damon walked through his front door completely dripping wet. Stefan walked into the hallway as soon as he heard the door close. “Where have you been?” Damon looks at Stefan with a love swept look on his face. “I’ve been with Y/N, I’ve been home.” He took a deep breath, trying to keep back the tears that were threatening to fall again. “I thought I lost her for good, Stef. I completely screwed up and said some horrible things to her and she stormed out into the rain. When I went to look for her, I found her nearly dead in the park from a vampire bite.”

Stefan furrowed his eyebrows and crossed his arms over his chest. “Who did it?!” Damon shook his head. “I don’t know, but that’s not what I’m focused on right now. All my attention is going to be on Y/N.” He walked past Stefan and began to walk up the stairs before turning around. “You know, one day I’m going to marry her and make her mine because I know that she is the one, and she always has been.”

The Vampire Diaries Tags:

@akshi8278

#valentines #valentines 2023 #valentines event #valentines event 2023 #damon salvatore #damon salvatore x reader #damon salvatore imagine #damon salvatore fanfiction #damon salvatore fluff #damon salvatore angst #the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries imagine #the vampire diaries fanfiction #the vampire diaries fluff #the vampire diaries angst

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lunawritesaa · 2 years

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Kisses for Barok?

— • — • —

-> barok’s kisses tend to be more reserved. he doesn’t kiss you very often, but he pours his heart and soul into every one. it’s a very intimate gesture to him.

-> he truly does love to kiss you, though. intimacy isn't his strong suit since he closed himself off after what happened with his brother. however, over time, the gesture becomes more familiar to him.

-> with you, his softer side comes out. and the same is true for kissing. he may be a stoic man, but his kisses portray all the emotions he struggles to convey. they're loving, warm, and soft.

-> he tends to like forehead or back of the hand kisses. something small yet intimate enough to show his feelings for you. it becomes second nature for him to give you a quick kiss to the crown of your head when he's with you.

— • — • —

#ace attorney x reader #barok van zieks #barok van zieks x reader #valentine’s event 2023

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shapeshiftinterest · 2 years

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based on CHAPTER 6 of @darkwingsnark‘s fanfic Same Man I Was Before, after bowser talks with wario and waluigi

bowser: now that those 2 bozos (wario and waluigi) are gone i can watch peach’s match, hehehe

luigi: glug glug

luigi: hot...

bang bang luigi: great job partner! ;D

bowser: wait

bowuigi valentines event

day 4: just friends (?)

inspo under the read more

“Now to watch Peach run around in that cute lil’ skirt of hers, hehe.”

That had been the plan, at least.

only for his focus to slip as other thoughts peskily snuck in.

“What’s WRONG with me?! I’m supposed to be busy watching Peach be all hot ‘n junk!!”

#art mine #2023 art mine #my comics #digital art #shapeshiftinterest #games #fanfiction #mario #bowser #luigi #bowuigi #wario #waluigi #LGBTQA #theme event #bowuigi valentines event

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sotwk · 11 months

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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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