#i freely admit that this was extra

[rimeswithpurple]

Little Purple's Halloween costume is done!

Every single step of the process took longer than I thought it would. I surprised myself in the level of finishings I did. Normally, I'd be wielding my pinking shears to finish every seam in a time crunch, but I employed French seams and bias tape binding. It's a really lovely piece!

I learned tambour beading for this as well. It was frustrating and time consuming, but I'm excited to try my new skill in a project for myself!

I tend to make the girls' costumes out of cotton whenever possible so that the dresses can live on as everyday dresses or in the dress up bin. The Elsa and Anna dresses I made 3 years ago are still in wardrobe rotation. So far, I've made three Elsa dresses and one Anna dress, I feel like I'll get to every dress by the time they outgrow Frozen.

Now, I've got to make a Spider Gwen costume. No pressure!

[silverfoxstole]

I finally started listening to In the Bleak Midwinter earlier while I was wrapping some presents and I think I would have enjoyed 24 Doors more without the structure of announcing the setting for each scene. I appreciate what John Dorney was trying to do but it kept taking me out of the story and made it seem like things took forever to get going. It was a nice little idea but for me a bit underwhelming.

That said, it’s lovely to hear Charley again and Audacity is much less aggravating, but I am concerned that having her there at this particular juncture will undermine the relationship between the Doctor and Charley, especially given what’s around the corner for them. Would they have got so close with someone else in the TARDIS? I’m not sure.

I’ll listen to the other two stories tomorrow and Friday but in the meantime I do agree with Audacity re Roy Wood and Wizzard: anyone who wishes it was Christmas every day is mad.

[curiosity-killed]

we do not need to engage with all posts. sometimes people can be stupid on the internet and it's fine, actually. we do not need to correct people for making grandiose statements based on knowledge they acquired at age 11 and haven't updated since <- said through gritted teeth

[misscammiedawn]

"I shouldn't be surprised you have this... and yet..." Donna mused, examining a thin white wand in her hand, admiring the intricate curls of its design and the engravings. All the while her grip delicate, as if she would shatter it if she applied too much pressure.

"Mhmm!" Madison chirped, nodding with a toothy grin, radiating joy so strongly that it lit the room, "I saw the Monarch's Orchestra when they were on tour. They had these replicas in the gift shop. I had to."

Madison was a huge fan of the Myth of Monarchs franchise and had been since childhood. The franchise was musical themed and one of the iconic symbols of the series was a conductor's wand. The Hero's Baton. A small lance of ivory with musical engravings looping around. In the game the hero would use it to conduct the music within the whistling of the wind to create magical spells.

Donna grinned to herself as she remembered her favorite one. When the hero would need to command friends and allies to move as needed to solve puzzles. She had seen plenty of fan-art that put an adult slant to that concept.

Donna adjusted her grip and swept her arm to the left in a flowing gesture, snapping her wrist back to center and punctuating with a dramatic flick before a flowing sweep of her arm to the right and another snap and flick. Madison followed the motion and broke into a smirking grin that betrayed familiarity. Though Donna could not tell if it was familiarity with the direction of the conducting or simply Donna's attempt at recreating the animations from one of her beloved video games.

"Oh," she playfully demanded, raising an eyebrow, "Was that supposed to do something?"

"Pausa." Donna firmly commanded.

Madison stopped moving.

Frozen with her arms crossed, her eyebrow raised and a teasing smirk which invited and beckoned for Donna's reciprocation.

"That's it. Frozen in place. You can just let this moment in time drift away, as you always do, knowing that when you're paused like this, my words just slip in unnoticed and you can follow them without thinking about it. After all, these little blips we experience? They're not for your waking mind. Your waking mind can just continue ignoring this and go right back in flow when we're done, but your deep and obedient mind, the self that always pays attention and follows my words and directions? That part of you is focused on my words and will find that when I state the name of the spell you will feel its impact strike you, that you will feel your body surrender to my magical control. That the limb pointed to with the Baton will be targeted and my conducting actions with the spare hand will control your movements and your body will be fully enchanted by my spell and will follow along in the way best suited to follow my actions, knowing you will maintain balance, that you will be a puppet on my strings, that you will be completely enthralled by my spell...

She paused a moment to savor Madison's frozen features, the little twitches to the corner of her lip betrayed the small amount of reality under the keyfabe. She was obeying perfectly and her mind was very good at forgetting and following. But even in the deepest states, eyes needed to blink and subtle unconscious reactions thawed through the ice of the freeze compulsion. Donna would have it no other way. The human was the one she loved. The enchanted plaything she turned into was a toy to be loved and admired and adored and turned into a mindless puddle, yes. But those soft reminders of her partner's enjoyment and enthusiasm just made the magic brighter. At least to her.

Possessed by a flooding of affection she pulled in and kissed her partner's paused lips before settling back and raising the replica baton in the air. "Pausa."

Only a gentle blink punctuated Madison's transformation from immobile object to snarky brat with a raised eyebrow and tempting smirk, her clever and trained mind not even registered that there had been a break in the action.

"I don't know, you tell me." Donna shot back, summoning the tone of voice she saved for when Madison was trying to press some buttons with that bratty manner of hers. "I'm surprised you didn't recognize the directions I waved your baton, my love, surely you would recognize the Song of Submission."

"Oh, is that what you were going for?" Madison chuckled, approaching Donna and lacing her fingers into her partner's, "Because I think it will take a little more than a few waves of a wand to enchant me, Miss."

Delicately Donna raised the clasped hand and raised the back of Madison's hand to press a chaste kiss upon it. "Oh? Would you prefer me to weave a spell of words rather than actions, my love? Would you prefer me to remind you how helpless you become when I will it? How there is simply nothing you can do to prevent yourself from following my instructions and finding your will leashed, tied, bound and owned by my firm commands?" As she spoke she released Madison's hand and began to tenderly stroke her cheek while holding her gaze.

Donna's words hit strong as Madison's lip retreated behind teeth and a gentle whimper escaped, "Please?"

"I could do that..." Donna mused, rubbing her chin and raising the baton with her opposing hand, "But I prefer proving to you that I control you so fully, so completely, so effortlessly; that I need not say a word to prove you are nothing but a puppet on my strings."

With that she aimed the baton at Madison's hand with intent and began to slowly gesture a rising motion. Her hand pulling up to the swell of imaginary music, fingers raised to punctuate. Madison's hand responded instantly, following the tempo of the unheard song and floating upwards.

"Oh would you look at that, my dear, turns out you are a puppet for me to conduct." Donna boasted with an air of triumph.

"...so it seems..." Madison responded, voice filled with bravado, "Did you cheat, my love?"

"Me? Cheat, lass? Take those playful little thoughts in your head and turn them to serve my purpose?"

"Tease."

"Always."

With another sweep of the baton she used her unburdened hand to pull in and make a fist. Madison's body jerked forward and gently fell into Donna's arms. With a kiss to her cheek, lips grazing the edge of her earlobe, she whispered "I do enjoy you like this, lass, completely spellbound..."

She backed out and with another flick of her wrist pulled Madison bolt upright. "That's it. Firm and rigid. Starring ahead... just like that."

A trembling whimper was the only reply Madison provided.

Donna slowly moved in and ran the tip of the baton against Madison's side, her spare hand running through her lover's light hair, pulling in to the scalp and making a fist. With a sharp hiss of bliss, Madison's head snapped back. Donna savored and used her leverage to expose her neck and savor a swift tease of teeth on skin.

Madison whimpered in the grip and trembled on the spot. Yet another of those gentle reminders that the binding spell was a product of their hypnotic shenanigans and not actual magic. Donna could do nothing but enjoy every blissful moment that reminded that Madison offered her submission as a gift, that her joy and blissful murmurs were well earned and not magically compelled.

"In a few seconds I'm going to release..." Donna whispered, slowly maneuvering the pair backwards towards the waiting bed, "And your body will go completely limp for me... falling safely to the bed and discovering you are still unable to move without the baton's magic." a few more steps and another tantalizing kiss yielding a euphoric murmur.

"Three... two... one... Drop." with that final word Donna stepped back and gestured dramatically. The strings were cut and Madison flopped to the mattress, hair splashing across the sheets. Donna positioned herself to find her line of sight and conducted her back to rise and back into the headrest. Every motion becoming intuitive, a dance between the conductor and the doll who understood the intent of each gesture and made the motion a reality.

"Oh my sweet lass..." she finally mused, stroking Madison's cheek and admiring her. "You obey so perfectly..."

---

This post was inspired by a Tumblr post I reblogged earlier and the things I tagged it.

If you enjoyed this story please check my #Cammie Stories and #Madison and Belladonna tags for more hypnokink shenanigans.

[havensins]

Peter's bf having symbiote like abilities and using the tentacles to hold peter as you fuck him and using a tentacle to help dp hom

peter parker x symbiote!m!reader

cw. sub!peter, dom!reader, does this count as tentacle fucking?, masturbation, peter is extremely needy, double penetration.

note. i did notttt mean to turn this into a full fic 😭. not proofread!

peter finds it incredibly hot that you even have those abilities and as you show him just how much you could really do with your own symbiote, he found it hard to keep his thoughts neutral.

he’d find himself zoning out and thinking about of it would feel for you to hold him down with the extra appendages. he thought about how it would feel, maybe for one of your tendrils to slide down to his hole as you’re fucking him… maybe even push in alongside your cock..

peter believed he had never been so horny in his life. the pressure and buildup was beginning to become too much, and he pursued the only option he felt like he had.

he lay in bed, pants and underwear pushed sloppily to his thighs. his legs were perched up a little for easier access to his hole. he was quick and disorganized in his movements, popping the cap on a bottle of lube and drizzling the contents over his fingers.

he held his shirt up with his teeth as he reached down and pressed past his tight ring of muscle. his mouth parts as a whine escapes; his fingers were no where near as fulfilling as yours but he’d just have to make due.

he fists his cock with vigor, fingers pumping in and out and making a wet squelch sound around the room. he hadn’t a care in the world as he moaned out freely, whining and trembling.

“peter…” you tsked, and his eyes blinked open. making your way towards him, he only slows the movement of his hands. he doesn’t have the control to stop completely. “cant.. haah- cant cum,” he whines, hips twitching as the fingers in his rear attempt to find his prostate.

“what has you so worked up love? poor thing, you can’t even make yourself cum,” you murmured. he chews on his lip, head falling back so he wouldn’t have to look you in the eyes.

“wan’ you and- and your symbiote.” he mumbles after s beat of silence. “hold me down and make me take y-you.. both of you,” he admits and you fight to hide the surprise on your face.

he finally stops touching himself, making an unintelligible noise in discomfort. breathing heavily, he feels a tendril gather his wrists and hold them above his head.

“if that’s what you want, then who am i to deny my pretty spider a request?” you question, and he looks towards you with glossy eyes. settling between his thighs on the bed, you pull his pants and underwear all the way off, and do the same with your own clothing.

you were already hard within the confines of your pants, practically aching at the sight of peter. he’s begging under you, looking like the most sinful angel you’d ever seen; all exposed and in all of his glory.

you push into him, the copious amounts of lube he’d used made the slide easy. peter moans out in pure pleasure when you bottom out, thighs trembling at your sides.

you knew it wouldn’t take long for him to cum, with how long he’d been working on himself before you even found him all needy.

after a couple beats of allowing nothing but peter’s moans to fill your ears, he speaks up; voice raspy and broken. “pleasee, wan’ you both, i can- i can take it.” he wails. you grinned, breathing heavily and deciding to fill his last request.

another tendril comes, teasing his taut and tensed body before circling his cock and moving further down where your own cock was pressing in and out of him.

you slowed down, allowing the tendril to push in a little before coming back out. the movement repeated a few times before it was able to slide in alongside your cock with no issue.

“look at you, angel. stuffed fuckin’ full with all of me. you can barely even take it, can you?” and peter has no response.

his mouth opens wide; he’s never taken this much before. his body goes tense, and then immediately limp afterwards. he cums with a cry, practically sobbing at feeling so full.

you’re cumming nearly right after him. you’re pressing into him at the hilt and he keens at the feeling. letting your tendrils release him and flow back into you, peter is blissed out of his mind. you pull out, and he jolts a little and whines at the feeling of your cum dripping down the cleft of his ass.

“come on pretty, we gotta get you cleaned up,” you coo, maneuvering peter so that he was cradled to your chest. “stay for a minute.” he whispers lowly, voice and brittle cracked with use. you hum into his hair and plant a kiss on his for head. “just for a little then, angel.”

[jobean12-blog]

Can't Help Falling

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x female!princess!reader

Word Count: 1,748

Summary: The more time you spend with the General, the more you fall in love.

Author's Note: I love (and hate for them) the idea that they have to be sneaky all the time and the library is a place of escape for them both so I thought having something a little extra naughty but also sweet would work. The poem I used in this story can be found HERE. You can read more about Catallus if you like. The library I'm referencing is the Ulpian Library and you can find info on it HERE and HERE. I'm pretty sure my timelines are all wonky but we can just pretend it all works out bc yay fanfic! 😁

Warnings: it's soft and sweet, semi public sex, fingering, oral (male rec), a lovely poem and a pretty library.

Marcus Acacius Masterlist

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

With silent footsteps you hurry across the stones, passing the Colosseum as it towers above you and blots out the brightest rays of the setting sun. The streets of the city are still very much alive with crowds but as you get nearer to the Forum of Trajan their voices start to fade and the warm breeze carries only the sounds of singing birds.

The Ulpia library is the same as you remember with long columns lining the courtyard and natural light filtering through every open space. There are people walking slowly along the walkways, books in hand and completely oblivious to your presence.

Even now, though you’ve spent such time together and watched him train and fight, it still feels like the breath rushes out of you when you see him. He stands taller than everyone around him, and as his dark eyes scan the courtyard, you take the time to enjoy him.

His tunic drapes across his broad shoulders, showing off his arms and legs and the ornamental stripes show off his status as General. He wears nothing on his head today and his curls blow freely in the breeze, giving him a slightly more relaxed look that makes you smile.

He turns and finds you then, standing and staring until you drop your chin under the intensity of his gaze. When you look up again, he smiles and discreetly crooks a finger at you, beckoning.

As you draw closer, he whispers, “you were staring Princess.”

“And you were not?” you shoot back, enjoying how his eyes sparkle with mischief.

Footsteps approach and you grow quiet, feigning interest in the architecture around you. A man passes by and greets the General before his eyes fall on you.

You’re recognizable even under your cloaked disguise so you quickly turn away and play shy.

It seems to appease the man and he walks off with his book.

“I have not visited this place in too long,” you tell Marcus.

With a quick look around, he gently presses his palm to your lower back and leads you deeper into the library.

“I figured as much,” he answers.

When you enter the main library room the smell of parchment and dust assaults your senses, and you breathe in deeply.

Marcus smiles and takes your hand, leading you to one of the niches where hidden inside there is a bookcase lined with scrolls and books. He plucks one from the collection and continues walking, tucking you both behind one of the floor to ceiling columns.

The bookcases press in on you from both sides and the tight quarters force you closer to him.

“Have you read any poetry by Catallus?” he asks.

“Not much,” you admit.

Anticipation spreads along your tingling skin when his lips meet the shell of your ear and he whispers, “not much…or not any?”

When you meet his eyes, he has his answer.

“He’s most known for his words on romance and love…”

You reach for the book, but he keeps it from you, his smile growing as confusion takes over your expression.

“We are going to read it here.”

“Here. But Marcus…”

“And you are going to read it to me.”

You swallow heavily, but when his palm flattens against your cheek and his warmth spreads along your skin you breathe him in and lean into his touch.

“I would have you laid out on my bed reading each and every night but given our circumstances, this will have to do.”

“Just reading General?”

His jaw clenches and his fingers press into your skin before he drags your mouth up to his. The book is smashed between you when he hauls you closer and kisses you with such urgency it steals your breath.

“One night very soon you will be mine and I will have you not out in the open with the fear of being caught but in safety where I can hear every sound of pleasure that I draw from these beautiful lips.”

The calloused pad of his thumb runs along your lower lip and his eyes wander over your features.

“Stunning,” he whispers.

Your breathing is heavy, and you grab his wrist, steadying yourself.

“Marcus,” you purr. “I fear I no longer care who hears or sees, I need you. Each night is torture.”

Because of the tall niches of bookcases surrounding you, you’re invisible from across the room, but if anyone were to walk down from the other side of the library, you would be exposed.

He bends to kiss you, starting with the corner of your mouth and humming at the contact.

“You know I could never allow that. I despise even the idea of any other man laying eyes on you.”

He turns you to face the rows of scrolls and reaches around you to open the book, stopping at a specific passage, and then moves your hand to hold it open. His finger points to the title: “Come Live With Me and Be My Love.”

“Read,” he whispers, his breath warm against your ear.

You tongue wets your lips before you start:

“Come live with me, Lesbia, and be my love, And ignore the wagging tongues Of wilted crones and toothless geezers..”

His large hands ran up beneath your tunic, over your hips and across your stomach.

“You are so soft,” he murmurs into your neck.

Your words stutter and he stops his ministrations.

“Princess,” he orders.

You continue, willing your voice to stay steady.

“Suns rise and set, rise and set again, But we, when our brief light is blacked, Must sleep forever, and then forever.”

One of his hands smooths down your side and between your thighs. He teases the wetness he finds there, hissing out a curse when you spread your legs wider for him.

You try to focus on the words in front of you, blinking down at the book.

“Focus,” he whispers.

“So kiss me, Sweet, and kiss me plenty: First a thousand, then a hundred kisses; Then catch your breath and kiss me more: Another thousand, another hundred…”

His lips meet your neck, and at first he presses them softly against your skin then more firmly at your pulse point where he feels the hammering of your heart.

Without any warning he slips a finger inside you and starts to pump it slowly in and out. You groan, needing more and pushing onto his hand.

“Quiet,” he reminds you.

His drags his finger out and teases your clit with small and focused circles.

“Keep reading Princess.”

“I cannot,” you whimper as your hips roll. “I just…Marcus, please!”

“You can,” he says simply and pushes two fingers inside you. “Or we can stop.”

You begin reading again in a tight, stuttering cadence that drives him crazy.

“Still thousands yet till we've lost all count And must begin again, keeping Envious others guessing the sum Of how many kisses much we love.”

You string the words together and although they’re filled with a soft tenderness it does nothing to quell the heavy feeling of lust that rushes through you.

“Touch yourself,” he demands.

“Marcus,” you gasp and the book slips from your fingers.

With shaky trepidation you reach down between your legs and rub his hand brushing against yours as he pushes his fingers in and out of you.

Your legs shake and you squeeze around his fingers, your cry of pleasure muffled when his free hand covers your mouth.

When your muscles stop trembling, he keeps his fingers buried inside you and stifles his moan with his mouth pressed to your neck.

The library is now completely silent, and you realize you have no idea how loud you had been. Did you whisper each word you read? You were so completely lost in him you had no idea.

He pulls his fingers free, releasing a quiet grunt, and turns you to face him.

His lips meet yours in a desperate kiss and when you reach down to take him in your hand he sucks in a breath.

“Princess?” he asks, his eyes dark.

“It is my turn to touch you. Please Marcus.”

As if your name on his lips is his undoing, he releases you and places his palms flat on the bookshelves in front of him.

You drop to your knees, and he trembles.

“Remember, you must be quiet,” you warn with a mischievous grin.

He sucks his teeth when your hand circles around him and gently glides along his hardness. He waits, fingers digging into the wooden shelves and chest heaving, until you wrap your mouth around the tip of him.

Whatever string of words leave his lips are unknown to you and when the first taste of him hits your tongue you moan and take him deeper.

He keeps his eyes locked on you, imprinting the image onto his brain. His hips begin to rock, and he slowly pushes himself deeper, clearing trying to restrain himself.

You roll your tongue and use your hand, pumping and sucking as much of him as you can until he’s groaning a warning above you, the rhythm of his hips stuttering and slowing as he spills down your throat.

When you release him it’s with reluctance and only because he gently takes your arm and drags you up his body. He stares at you and your swollen lips then kisses you hard enough to have your back hitting the bookshelf behind with a thud.

He instantly slides his hand along the curve of your spine in a soothing manner, the only apology he can manage without breaking away.

“You are spectacular,” he breathes against your lips. “I would keep you here with me forever.”   

“But I must go,” you say quietly. “My father will surely know of my absence should I stay any longer.”

He nods and reverently brushes his thumb across your cheek before stepping slowly back.

You’re nearing the exit of the library when he reaches for your hand and pulls you into a darkened alcove.

“Just one more,” he murmurs, right before he brings his lips to yours.

It’s soft and sweet and he lingers, not wanting to be the one to pull away.

“A thousand kisses will never be enough,” he whispers against your lips.

You swallow and meet his eyes again, sweeping your fingers through his messy curls.

He presses his hand over yours as you cradle his cheek then brings your knuckles to his lips.

“Until next time, Princess.”

@hiddles-rose @blackwidownat2814 @tripletstephaniescp

[blackleatherjacketz]

Give In

Klaus Mikaelson x Female Reader

Summary: Klaus shows up out of the blue to remind you who you belong to.

Warnings: Mature Content, Mild Violence, Alcohol, Jealousy, Possessive Behavior, Klaus and his Mouth

Word Count: 1.4k+

Raucous voices from the drunken patrons on the patio echo against the vastness of the parking lot as you walk away from the crowd, having had enough of the holiday scene inside. Hand in hand with someone you’d only just met an hour before, you make your way out to your car until a feeling of dread suddenly washes over you. Unsure if it’s from all the green beer that you know you shouldn’t have drunk, the sensation intensifies as you get closer, tugging at your insides and prickling the fine hair on the backs of your arms with each step you take. You hear a heavy thud and a light moan, the alcohol dulling your senses just enough to keep you on your path as you turn toward where you had parked your car before you finally see him.

What the hell is he doing here?

“A local pub on St. Patrick’s Day? That’s very unlike you, now is it, darling?” Klaus licks the fresh blood off his lips as he approaches you and your guest, his hazel eyes aglow with a mixture of hunger and satisfaction before returning back to their natural hue. The limp body of the poor woman he had drained dry is just barely visible beneath the undercarriage of a Jeep as you attempt to take in your surroundings, damning the extra shot you took at the bar before walking outside with the man who had bought it for you.

“Who the hell is this guy? You know him?” Your new friend looks over at you, oblivious to the danger he’s in as a jealous shade of pink paints his cheeks.

“Klaus,” is all you can say as he steps closer, that all too familiar blend of fear and excitement tingling its way through your spine as if it’s your very first time seeing him.

It’s as if he’s capable of infecting the air around him with his mere presence, drawing out an innate response from your body every single time. You wish that you could blame it on compulsion, that you could somehow pass the buck onto his supernatural powers, but you both know he’s never had to use any of them on you before. You hate yourself for how weak you are for him, hate how your body instantly reacts to the mere sound of his voice or the glint in his eye like a dog in some sort of sick Pavlovian response. He could take whatever he wanted from you at any time he pleased, and you’d thank him for it.

And he knew that.

“The real question is… who the hell are you?” Klaus focuses his attention on your potential new bedfellow as he closes the gap between them, ignoring you for the moment as his fists find their way into the thin fabric of his novelty green t-shirt. With very little effort, he twists his grip on it, lifting the young man high into the air before staring menacingly into his eyes. “Well?”

“Alex.” He answers immediately, his voice shaking in sobering trepidation.

“And just how long have you been seeing my little witch, Alex?” His eyes darken as he compels the young man to tell him the truth, his dark tone just as threatening as it is curious.

“Witch? We just met tonight, I swear!” He lifts his hands up in surrender, not even bothering to look back at you for confirmation.

“You swear, hmmm?” He laughs to himself, that subtle amused chuckle rumbling in his chest before turning into a low growl, catching in his throat. “And just what were your intentions in bringing her out here like this, huh? Were you hoping to fuck her?”

“Klaus!” You scold in protest and take a step toward them, stopping only as he shoots you a deadly glare.

“Y…yes!” Alex admits freely, all the confidence and charisma he’d shown you inside disappearing in an instant.

“Good.” A sly grin slowly creeps across Klaus’ lips as Alex divulges his obvious intentions with you, fear trembling through his entire body and into his fingertips as they tremor sporadically. “She is rather tempting, isn’t she?”

Alex only whimpers in response, too afraid to say the wrong thing.

“You’re a bit young for her, don’t you think?” He grabs hold of his jaw and squeezes, turning his face from side to side to get a better look at his youthful features as he clicks his tongue in disapproval.

“I didn’t care about that.” Alex cries.

“No, I know. ‘Age is nothing but a number’ and all that, but she needs someone older, someone with experience who can take care of her, someone who can really give her what she needs... Do you think you’re that someone, Alex?” He raises an eyebrow as his grip on his chin tightens, making sure to cut the inside of his cheeks against his molars.

“No,” he can barely whisper at this point.

“Good boy, now why don’t you go back inside, have another drink and forget that you ever met her; forget all of this?” He brings him down closer to his face, their noses mere inches apart as his voice lightens just the slightest bit. “Now run along back inside and find someone your own age, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Alex mutters with a nod, scurrying off the second Klaus lowers him down and releases him from his grasp.

“Nose ring really does it for you, huh, love?” Klaus finally addresses you as Alex’s hurried footsteps fade off in the distance. “I didn’t take him as your type.”

“What are you doing here?” You fold your arms across your chest to put some distance between you, as if that will somehow help protect you from his deadly charms. “I thought you’d left town.”

“Well, now I’m back.” His tone shifts completely, his voice now like slowly melted caramel, dripping with the confidence you swear he was born with as it warms every inch of you, those perfect lips of his curling into a knowing smirk. “I thought you’d be happier to see me.”

“And I thought you would have at least called,” you counter coldly.

“Oh, you always fight me tooth and nail don’t you, darling?” He laughs to himself as he slowly saunters toward you. “Always trying to convince yourself that you don’t want me, that you don’t need me.” His hypnotic gaze grazes over your resistant frame before he gently brushes his knuckles against your cheek. “That you don’t belong to me.”

“Belong to you?” Your lips part as your heart begins to race beneath your nearly heaving chest, pumping your cheeks full of blood as the effect he has on you grows more urgent than you care to admit. “I don’t…”

“Shhh…” He stops you before you can finish your thought, grabbing hold of your chin and lifting it to face him. “Let’s drop the charade, shall we?” He takes his time to take in your features, his nearly blown out pupils dilating even more as they linger on your parting lips.

“Mmm hmm,” you try to answer as his intoxicating scent surrounds you, the sweet smell of cinnamon coated with smoky notes of bergamot flooding your senses.

It’s all over now.

“You’re my little witch… not his, not anyone else’s… mine,” he growls. His hand moves from your chin down to your throat, squeezing gently as he ghosts the promise of a kiss while opening his mouth against yours. He stares at you as his tongue languidly traces the outline of your lips just long enough to stifle your breath. “Right? Show me you understand.”

Your lips quiver as they glisten in his spit before you lean forward just enough to lick his in return, slowly savoring the hints of iron and salt until you can’t help but kiss him completely. You breathe him in, forgetting about how long it’s been since you’ve last touched him as he embraces the kiss with an unmatched fervor. You gasp as he presses his hips into yours, nearly knocking the wind out of you as a satisfied groan vibrates in his chest. You moan into his mouth as he clumsily backs you up against the nearest car as you try to catch your breath, that moisture already collecting between your thighs.

“That’s it, love,” he whispers, pressing those pouty lips of his against your chin and jawline as his other hand starts unbuttoning your jeans. “Give in to me like you always fucking do.”

----------

Read more KLAUS!

[zsupika]

Love and Deepspace x Reader

> general relationship headcanons

A/N: I've been in the lnd fandom for a few weeks now and I'm so obsessed of this game. Keep in mind these are just some random things that I have in mind when I think of them in a relationship.

>> My requests are open if you have any ideas!

Characters: Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel

Xavier

I imagine him as a very caring boyfriend

He'd listen to what you have to say and whenever you have something that troubles you, try and find a solution

His favorite sleeping position has got to be spooning you with him being the big spoon

He just loves to embrace you and know that you're safe in his arms

While laying like that he loves to breath in your scent

And while you're asleep, he plays with your hair and softly glides his fingers along your skin

It calms him down, especially after aonh day of fighting wanderers

He also likes to go on missions together with he

He won't admit it but whenever you get assigned with a different partner than him, he gets so jealous

He just loves to spend time with you

He's more a listener than a talker

Through the entire year he takes notes on the things that you mentioned you wanted to have

When your birthday comes up he buys all those things for you!!

Although he loves to spoil you on valentines day with flowers, chocolate and lots of kisses, he doesn't really see a point in the day specifically

He buys you flowers every once in a while and doesn't understand why there would have to be a whole day dedicated for it

But if you see it as important, he definitely puts up an effort to make you happy and see a smile on your face

He always blushes when you get him something in return!

He prefers to give, more that receive

He also makes sure that you're nicely relaxed after a mission

While you sit on your chair he might come up from behind and give you a soft shoulder massage and some neck kisses to ease your mind and body

I imagine him to smell like lavender and fresh laundry

His favorite drink has to be iced coffee and water

In winter he'll also drink a hit chocolate with you

He loves to add cute toppings and make it delicious

Zayne

As we all know he's a doctor and always very busy

You see him a lot less than you would the other two boys

He appreciates it when you come to the hospital and visit him on his breaks

You'd remind him to relax and take it easy every once in a while

It makes him smile to know that you care for him so much

Him not being able to see you as much makes him sad, so he tries to make the few dates that you go on extra special

He always consideres your wishes and does whatever you desire

You want to stay home with him and watch a movie? Sure, he'd love to. You want to go out to a fancy restaurant? Yeah, he's down.

He has a hard time expressing his emotions with his words, so he's definitely more of a "actions over words" kinda guy

His love language would equal to "acts of service" and "quality time"

His hugs and kisses feel very intimate, because it's his way of expressing his emotions to you

He adores the fact that you understand him so well and that you respect his boundaries

He's a morning person for sure

He likes black coffee

For you he always makes sure that you're healthy

Whenever you get a little sick, he's always worried about you and tries to prevent it with all that he can

It makes you chuckle how much he can get worked up over a little cold

Once you get better he makes sure that you stay healthy and happy

Rafayel

Starting of with a very basic headcanon but I think he'd paint you

But not in the way in which you might think

He wouldn't only paint full on portraits of you but he'd incorporate you into his art in a very different way

He'd draw the landscape of your favorite places

He would use your eye color as the background color of a beautiful still-life

You being around him would inspire him to draw freely without any restrictions

Your laugh would make him move his brush in the same rhythm

Sometimes he'd let you help him with a painting

He also loves to go and search for different ways to create paint with you and look for ingredients

I think even though he's very sassy and bold most of the time, when it comes to intimate moments he'd be rather shy

He blushes a lot!

And definitely has a hard time keeping eye contact with you in those moments

His kisses are more soft and caring than you might think at first

In my eyes he'd be the furthest thing from rough in any intimate situations

He holds you as if you were a fragile piece of glass that could break at any second

He feels like you're the only one who he can let his emotions out on, without feeling judged

Loves sleeping on top of you like a weighted blanket

Slightly snores but not very loud

It's more of a heavier breathing

As we know he's very ticklish

When you two are playfighting you can definitely take advantage of that

He'll be a whining and whimpering mess

Do with that what you want

[7ndipity]

Helloooo! I feel a little shy asking this, but what are your nsfw yoongi head cannons?? 🙈🙈

Yoongi Nsfw Headcanons

Yoongi x Reader

Warnings: 18+ mndi, smut. Mentions of bondage, oral(m. and f. receiving), pegging, unprotected sex

A/N: *shaky breath* y-yeah sure, we can talk about those…😳

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

He’s a lil bit of a pleasure dom, he absolutely loves watching you writhe and squirm beneath him. Nothing gets him off more than knowing that he’s the one making you feel good, that it’s his touch, his body that’s bringing you to the brink of bliss over and over again. Even on the days when he lets you take the lead, he needs you to tell him how good you’re feeling.

He’s not that into extra things like toys or bondage. Y’all tried a few things like cuffs and sensory deprivation, but it’s just not quite his thing(tho he does enjoy pinning your hands while teasing you with a vibrator sometimes). It just seems like a lot of extra work when he much prefers being able to touch and see each other freely.

Also not the most vocal in bed. He usually tries to keep quiet so he can hear all the little noises you make, sticking to low grunts and curses that shift into louder, airy moans right before he cums.(tho, he definitely gets louder/whinier when you ride him or tease him as you jerk him off)

Loves when you ride him so he can watch you more easily, also because then he has his hands free to touch and tease you all he wants.

As I said in my fwb list, he basically lives part-time between your legs, the man’s lowkey obsessed with eating you out. Like, he certainly won’t turn down head if you’re offering, but he really prefers giving. Likes it when you sit on his face, looking up at you the whole time as he pushes you over the edge with his tongue.

Loves sleepy morning sex. Just the idea of waking up and immediately needing each other makes him so soft(at least emotionally). He loves the slow, lazy touches, the tired, almost wordless communication between the two of you, it just all feels so much more intimate to him.

Aa I also said before, he really, really loves makeout sessions. It doesn’t matter if it’s leading to anything more or not(though oftentimes it does), just kissing you for the sake of it, hands tracing and feeling all over, tongues sliding together messily as you exchange breaths, it’s his idea of heaven.

(He also has a major weak spot for neck kisses. If you suck on his neck while riding him, he will fucking ascend)

He wants to be pegged. He might not admit it for a while, potentially ever unless you bring it up, cause he’s a little shy about it and doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable if it’s not something you’re into, but he really just wants you to fold him up like he does you and pound him into a daze.

Lowkey has a thing for marking you with his cum? Like it’s not a full on kink, but something about cumming inside you and filling you up just scratches something primal in his brain that he can’t quite explain and fills him with this pride and satisfaction and just ‘Mine’.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @captainorangegoose @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

[fictionalreads]

This Was Never Meant to Be What It Feels Like (Part 2)

A/N: Soooooo I couldn't help myself. Ya'll really showed me love on part one and it encouraged me to write this part. I'll admit this isn't my favorite piece of writing but it's necessary cause it sets up part 3😅 Give me a few days at least for that one though. Hope y'all like it. 18+/Minors DNI

Part 1 Part 3

Pairing: Armando Aretas x Original Female Character

Fandom: Bad Boys Movies

Song I listened to while writing: Back To Love by Robert Glasper featuring SiR and Alex Isley.

Prompt: It's been six months since Armando left Shay but things feel unfinished for him.

Warnings ⚠️: Talk of smut (y'all I can't write that shit, I tried and it was trash so I just talk around it)

Armando was only supposed to be in LA for a couple days. He was still a wanted man and he didn’t exactly enjoy putting himself at risk of being caught, but it was unavoidable. A contact had needed a job done and since being on the run, he wasn’t afforded the option of being picky when it came to money. Besides, Martinez had been helpful in getting him jobs so he considered the extra risk a favor.

Nobody wanted to work with a snitch. 

It didn’t matter that the feds had him serving life and he was just trying to survive, hopefully shave off enough time to not die in a cell. He was a rat and had nothing but enemies on both sides. Mierda, his parents had really screwed him over. His mother had ensured he would always be seen as a criminal and his father had ensured every criminal saw him as a traitor. He was destined for a life of solitude. 

Then he met Shay.

He had been eating at a restaurant frequented by his target, canvassing the place, when he heard her laugh. Usually he would ignore other patrons as he did his job but there was something so uninhibited about the sound that it captivated him. He looked up to find the source and saw her head thrown back in obvious joy, curly hair flowing freely behind her. Her eyes were damn near shut, smile big and bright. 

He was in LA for work but a little play never hurt anybody so he had his waitress send a drink to her and watched as he was pointed out. She lifted the drink he sent in a silent thanks and he raised his glass back, nodding at her with a smirk. He was aware when she had left and he finished his own meal and work soon after. He was unsurprised to find her waiting outside for him. That was the beginning of them.

He had thought once he had slept with her, they would both be satisfied and she’d be out of his system. A win-win situation, truly. But there was something about her that had him acting stupid. After he took care of Martinez’s problem, he laid low for a week, letting the heat die down. When it was safe enough to go back to Mexico, he just…didn’t. Instead he went and found her. He expected to have to work for it seeing as he left in the middle of the night and didn’t call for a week, but she let him back in.

So instead of going home like he should have, like he would have if he was smart, he stayed for her. He knew he should get the hell outta dodge, but he wanted to know her. So he called Martinez and picked up a couple more jobs he needed done out in LA and the surrounding area. When he wasn’t working he learned everything about her like it was his job, careful to never give her any real information, steering the conversation back to her every time. He was enchanted by her beauty, enthralled by her passion. Everything he learned about her got him closer to that dreaded L word.

Then he fucked up.

It had been three months of playing this dangerous game when she asked about him. He kew the day would come eventually when she wouldn’t allow him to just brush off her questions but he was somehow still unprepared and suspicious of her motives when it came. She had asked to know about his parents and he should’ve just fed her some bullshit story but he just got quiet. He realized he wanted to tell her. He wanted her to know him, the real him, and still choose him. So he had told her an edited version of his parents, only to immediately realize his mistake. He didn’t want to, but he was going to have to leave.

So after fucking out his feelings, he left. He went back to Mexico and told himself to forget about her. Except he couldn’t get her out of his head. For six months he was constantly reminded of her. Every woman that flirted with him was compared to her, every one of them coming up short. Every time he smelled shea butter and coconut, he thought of her freshly showered. Every time he needed a release, he pictured her blissed out face, his hand not nearly as good as the real thing. So he did something even dumber than staying in LA for three months.

He went back.

He watched her for a few days, Shay never knowing he was there. He watched as she went out with friends. He watched as they encouraged her when some fucker had the audacity to step to her and flirt. He watched as she went on a date with the man. A better man would have taken that as a sign that she had moved on and he should too, but he never claimed to be a better man. He watched as she gave restricted smiles, restricted laughs and came to the conclusion that this ‘date’ wasn’t doing it for her.

So he left them at the basic ass restaurant the guy chose and went to her apartment to wait for her. He found his way inside like he used to and set up on her armchair, turning on her lamp so as not to completely scare her. He waited almost an hour before he heard her keys in the door.

She clocked the light being on the second she walked in the door. 

To prevent her from running and calling the cops because she didn’t know it was him, he spoke, “hola Amorcita.”

“Armando?” She question in disbelief.

He stood and took in his fill of her before telling her what he’d been thinking all night, “you look beautiful. Nice night?”

She shut the door behind her and cautiously stepped past the kitchen to reach the living room. She was still too far, standing at the edge of her breakfast bar across the room. Why wouldn’t she come closer? On one hand, she could be pissed that he left her for six months. Something told him it wasn’t that though. If she was pissed she wouldn’t be trying to keep herself as far from him as possible, as if out of reach. No, instead she’d probably get close enough to slap him. A heartbreaking realization hit him. “Are you afraid of me now, Amorcita?”

Shay stood tall, facing him head on. “Your rap sheet says I should be,” she bit out.

There it was. The confirmation she knew who he was now, that there would be no more hiding behind omissions of truth. He tilted his head in contemplation, “that’s not what I asked.” Was she not phased by who he was? Or was she just biding her time?

When she didn’t say anything else, he slowly walked to her. He could feel the energy in the room shift and amplify. He still wasn’t sure if she was gonna knee him and run or invite his touch. He wasn’t sure if he could take the betrayal from her, but he would understand. Any sane person would run from the likes of him.

When he stood mere inches from her he ghosted his fingers over her arm, noticing her intake of breath. “Are you afraid of me now, Amorcita?” He repeated, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

Shay looked up, her eyes meeting his, “no.”

“Maybe you should be,” he brokenly admitted.

She lifted a hand to cradle his face, “You’ll never hurt me that way.” She said it so surely, as if she could see into him, see his soul. There was no doubt in her voice, her sureness both a surprise that she felt that way and a relief that she understood.

It didn’t escape his notice, however, that she was very distinct in her words. He may not have hurt her physically but he had hurt her all the same.

“I’m sorry for leaving, Alma.” He turns his head to place a kiss on her palm.

She gave him a slight smile. “I get why you did.”

“Doesn’t mean it hurt you any less or make me any less sorry.” He placed his hands on her waist, pulling her even closer, her hands going around his neck. Her scent took over his senses, clouding his thoughts.

She didn’t refute what he said, just reached up to press her lips gently against his in a quiet acceptance. When she pulled back he stared into her eyes, wondering if this was real, wondering how she could be real. He saw nothing but the love he wished he could keep. Unable to stop himself, he drew her in for a longer more passionate kiss. It was slow as if they had all the time in the world, or rather if time and the rest of the world didn’t exist. He hoped she felt the words he couldn’t say aloud.

He felt her hands stop their playing in his short hair and move towards his shirt buttons. Before she got to the first one, he pulled back and held her hands in his own, needing to tell her, owing her and her loving heart the truth.

“I can’t stay.”

Eye to eye, love and determination shining bright in hers, she whispered, “I know.”

From there, clothes shed quickly and they made their way to the bedroom. They both knew this was a goodbye, closure for them both. Their last attempt at an ending had felt lacking, like there was more to be said. This time it was all laid out in front of them. Emotions may not have been said but they were felt and known, the reality of their situation acknowledged.

This time they would both take what they needed, giving them a more satisfying conclusion.

After she fell asleep he fixed his gaze on her white ceiling, wishing things could be different for them, wishing he could stay and give her the life she deserved rather than a few memories she’ll hopefully look back on with fondness. He allowed himself a few minutes more of wishful thinking and soaking in the feeling of being with her. When it came time to leave, he hated himself for it, but he laid her on the bed and quietly collected his things. Finding a pen and a scrap piece of paper, he scribbled out a note for her, leaving it where he should have been laying next to her. He spared one last look at her before leaving her for good this time.

If you ever need anything, find Detective Mike Lowrey. Miami PD.

-A

A/N: How we feeling about this part? Let me know what your favorite line was in the comments! Don't be shy with the comments and reblogs, they motivate me. Likes are appreciated too!

Translations:

Mierda - Shit/Damn

Amorcita - Little Love

Alma - Soul/soulmate

Taglist: If you request to be on the taglist, you're agreeing that you're 18 or older.

@yeahnohoneybye

[iloveboysinred]

I need some fluffy megumi hcs 😌 can you write how he would act as a boyfriend?? I love your work ❤️ also, can i claim the 🐦‍🔥 emoji for your anon list??

Ummm of course!!!! Thank you for reading my works ❤️ it means the world, really! Welcome to the list pheonix anon 💕

Masterlist

Cw; pg 13, fluffy megumi, boyfriend megumi being a dork.

- megumi is definitely the kind of boyfriend that goes along with any silly hobby you pick up.

- like when you went to that crocheting class together. He had no idea what was going on but happily watched you make little crochet animals. He keeps the little divine dog figures you made for him in his room and close to his heart. He cherishes your little quirks and gifts no matter how small.

- takes pictures of you whenever he gets the chance. Megumi has a whole photo album dedicated to pictures he’s taken of you on dates, pictures of you laying around the house. You just look so beautiful all the time. When he’s away on missions and needs the extra motivation he’ll look at the pictures he took, warming his heart and filling him with courage.

- Megumi is 100% a crash dummy. Anybody that looks at you or touches you less than respectfully irritates him. He always gets ready to square up, he doesnt care how big of a scene he’s making. He doesnt play bout you.

- goes along on any shopping trips you go on and carries all your bags

- cooks for you and keeps your apartment looking tidy whenever he comes over, so that when you come home from work you can just relax and embrace each other.

- loves when you play in his hair and tell him about your day. Despite being a dog person his personality mirrors a cat. He’ll lean into your touch, and you swear he would be purring if he could.

- he does skincare with you, lets you put all kinds of face masks on him. Sometimes he even falls asleep under your gentle care.

- super soft spoken with you, and so patient when you have an attitude or having a bad day.

- wouldn’t admit to it but he adopted Gojo’s habit of bringing you home souvenirs and gifts from his missions.

- hates leaving you alone, he always leaves you with one of his dogs when he has to be away for long. He knows the dangers of being a sorcerer. He would never forgive himself if something happened to you.

- confides in you about his troubles and frustrations. Around you he feels safe, and is able to express himself freely without care.

- insists on you guys going to this local cafe he always used to go to before he met you.

- hand feeds you pieces of his croissant, insisting you try it with your coffee.

- super cuddly when you guys are alone, but in public he prefers to keep it lowkey.

- pecks, hand holding, playing footsies, his favorite thing to do is link pinkies with you as you walk.

- recommends books to you, sometimes even reading them aloud to help you fall asleep.

- overall a very attentive boyfriend. He makes sure you have everything you need, using Gojo’s card whenever you want something (the Gojo effect).

I love Megumi so much yawll dont understaaaand. Hopefully you enjoyed this anon! :> notes and reblogs are appreciated. Comments, asks, and submissions are welcomed 💗

[svtoose]

Palace Rendezvous ft. Joshua Hong

pairing: joshua x fm!reader

word count: 1.2k

F : pretty fluffy

warnings: palace au, reader is a worker, kissing

summary: you and josh are two staff members at the palace. how will you keep your relationship a secret?

a/n : i made a banner hehe. ps. I'm sorry if u read this before I proofread bc gosh what was wrong w me!!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"We're going to get caught, Shua." You whisper into his ear. He continues to kiss your neck, moving his lips freely among your skin.

"Please, baby. I can't risk it." You plead. He finally releases you from his arms and frowns at you. You and Joshua both work at the king and queen's palace, but are forced to date in secret cause of a 'no dating' policy for the palace staff.

"I have a dress to sew, and you have a prince to tend to. Don't let the prince find out his right hand man is violating a rule." You whisper against his lips in a teasing fashion. He shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath. Before he lifts his lashes, you sneakily slip out of his grip and start speed-walking down the dimly lit hallway.

"This isn't over, Y/N," you hear him threaten as you giggle, continuing on your path to your quarters, where there is a garment waiting for you to complete.

With quick steps, trudge to the basement, fearing your boss's dismay at your tardiness.

"That's two in a row, Miss Y/N," your boss says after you enter the premises. Her eyebrows are raised, and a subtle smirk sits on her lips. It's almost as if she knew what you were doing just a few minutes ago.

"I apologize. I'll be extra early tomorrow." You speak guiltily, avoiding eye contact.

As you scurry toward your workplace, her next words make you stop at your place. "It's a boy, I presume. He must be the reason you're always late."

'Oh, no. This could be the end' you think to yourself. Is it that obvious? Well, you can't really admit it to your boss. Both you and Josh could get fired and sent home. Worse yet, you guys could be injured in front of all the staff to "set an example."

"No Miss. I just lost track of time while getting ready," you reply to your boss, hoping she believes your lies.

"Sure, you did. Just get to work."

You nod your head and quickly walk to your station, continuing to pin the hem of a dress you're working on. The gown is sheer pink, with an intricately embroidered bodice and a tulle skirt. It's absolutely perfect for the 16-year-old princess. It's definitely one of your more extravagant pieces.

Your hands steadily prick needles into the ragged hem of the dress as your boss walks around, critiquing and admiring your and the rest of the girls' work.

She finishes her rounds and takes a seat beside your isolated workspace as you mentally prepare yourself to be berated some more. Your boss was a kind woman in her fifties, but she did not appreciate any misconduct. Nobody ever wanted to be on her bad side.

"Exquisite Miss Y/N. Very elegant. I'm sure the princess will be delighted. Do you plan on adding straps?"

"Thank you. Yes, I do. I could also leave it strapless, but I know the princess prefers the support."

"Perfect then." She's about to leave before she pauses and looks at you.

"Miss Y/N. I know you know there are rules about personal affairs in the palace.

"I'm not having any personal affairs." You cut her off, lying through your teeth. You are usually not this abrupt, but the anxiety of her finding out about your relationship is surely terrifying.

"A chance to finish, Miss?"

"Yes, of course. I'm sorry."

"You're a terrible liar, you know. As I was saying, I know there's a boy. I know you're scared right now that I might get you in trouble. But I'm not looking to ruin your life. As long as it doesn't interfere with the quality of your work, which it obviously hasn't, then there's nothing to report. Even if the queen were to find out, she's a complete sucker for a good love story. She would be more than glad to turn a blind eye. And as for the king, he barely notices the staff. I'd be surprised if he knew my name. All I ask is that you come on time so you don't raise any suspicions among the rest of the staff. Does that sound reasonable?"

Do you hear her right? You and Shua won't have to worry about it anymore.

"It sounds far better than reasonable. Thank you so much. I promise I won't let you down, and I'll be on time from now on."

"Alright then. I'm glad this could be resolved. Get back to work. The dress is due in a few hours." She winked at you and walked away to her own station.

'I've got to tell Josh the news!' you think to yourself.

Though you are quite distracted for the duration of the work day, you successfully complete the dress, straps, and all. You quickly hang the completed garment on a rack and speed your way to your room, where you hope to freshen up for your date with Joshua.

You remove your hair tie, allowing your locks to lay freely, before you swipe a sheer shade of rouge over your lips. 'He's going to be so happy.'

You take steady steps toward the rooftop, where you know Josh will be awaiting you, imagining the smile that will adorn his face after you share your news with him.

After a few seconds, a beautiful scene reveals itself. Your dear boyfriend stands against the railing, admiring the acres of green that are accompanied by the sunset.

"Shua?" You call out with a peaceful smile on your lips.

He perks up, turning around to walk toward you with open arms. No matter how many times you see him in his uniform, it never fails to take your breath away; the suit is just tailored so perfectly to his frame.

"C'mere, sweetheart." He calls you in for a warm embrace, while you just cannot wipe the smile off your face.

"What's got you so happy?" He asks, releasing you from the hug. You grab his hand and walk back to the railing, pulling him behind you. While his arms enclose you as you both stare out into the sunset, you begin to reveal the news.

"I was late to work today... and..." He lays his chin on your shoulder, leaving sweet pecks on your neck.

"Well, my boss had an inkling that I was with a boy and told me that... it was okay. She wouldn't tell anyone we were together as long as I came on time." You feel his kisses pause as he lifts his head.

"Does that mean..."

"Yes, Josh. We don't have to fear for our lives anymore. We can be together."

"Oh, baby, that's so great." His arms tighten around you as you turn around to hold his face in your hands. The happiness in the atmosphere is blooming as your lips inch up toward each other in a deep kiss.

"I'm so happy, Josh."

"Me too, Y/N." You turn back around and continue to admire the nature that surrounds the palace. You can just feel it in your bones that life is about to get better.

[tr4gictea]

hallooo !! Can I request a lyney, kaveh and Alhaitham x reader where reader is afraid of rain or gets extremely overwhelmed with the noise? Thank you sm and have a nice day !!

Lyney, Kaveh, & Alahitham w/Scared of Rain!Reader

❥Masterlist

Tags: fluff, scared reader, could be seen as romantic or platonic (Kaveh & Alhaitham), house of the hearth reader (lyney), orphan reader (lyney), teen reader (lyney), psychopathic reader (lyney), family dying (lyney), panic attack,

Including: Lyney, Kaveh, & Alhaitham

word count: 2,445 words

A/n: Thank you for the request @cheri-2047 ! And I would like to say that these episodes that the reader will have are based off of my experience of being overwhelmed so forgive me if they are not completely accurate.

Note for Kaveh fanfic writers: STOP WRITING KAVEH AS A BABY TWINK WHO CAN'T THINK FOR HIMSELF. Enjoy :D

Alhaitham

art: @ darkavey on twt

You had always been sensitive to noises. The sound of dishes clattering, and the chatter of people at the market all made you wanna rip out your ears. But by far the worst of all the sounds was rain. The onslaught of water may have calmed most but to you it was a sensory assault.

On this particular day, you decided to head out into the forest for a walk. You had gotten pretty far from your house when the sky started to darken and clouds moved overhead.

Spinning on your heel you try to speed walk back to your home when the rain starts to pour harder. The droplets hitting the leaves next to you were like a gong getting hit right next to your ear. Your vision got blurry and you lost your ability to think straight. Gripping your ears you picked up the pace of your walking. It was getting hard to tell which way you were going. Your overstimulated mind made things go into a blur and every way you turned seemed familiar but you could tell where you were. Where's your house? Why is the rain getting louder? I can't see anything! Why is Alhaimtham putting his headphones on me?! And how-! Wait Alhaitham?

While lost in your train of thought you failed to notice the acting grand sage walking over to you and placing his headphones on your ears. The moment he puts his headphones on you the world goes silent. No loud patter of rain. No roaring wind assaulting your ear drums. Just nothing. Your vision is still blurry but you know Alhaitam walked you away from the rain cause you don't feel any water hitting your back.

"Breathe in," You hear the sound of Alhiathams voice through his headset. Attempting to follow his instructions you realize you how uneven your breathing has become. Trying to breathe in was met with hiccups and small cries. "Breathe out,"

Letting out that breathe made you feel a little calmer but water left on your back made you feel cold. Gradually you started to feel in control of yourself.

Taking in your surroundings you find yourself in a warm house with green and yellow glass windows. The couch you were sitting on matched the architecture of the table in front of you. Wrapped around you was a green towel. Next to you was Alahitham using a small cloth to pat the water off your arm.

You clear your throat before you speak. "Thank you Alhaitham, sorry about that. I have overly sensitive ears and they do not do well in the rain."

"It's alright (Y/n), I'm not the best in loud spaces either," Alhaitham admits. "That's why I made those headphones they drown out all the noises I don't want to hear."

You touch the device covering your ears "hm, these are very handy."

"They are," Alhaitham responds, There's an awkward pause before he speaks again. "Do you want to keep them?"

"What!" You lean back in surprise. These headphones are always on the same no matter what the occasion is. You can't believe he is offering his headphones up so freely to you. "I couldn't, you've had these ever since I met you I couldn't possibly take these from you!"

"I have no attachment to this device," He states. "And besides I have a few extra in my attic so don't worry about me."

"Thank you, this is so nice of you,"

"Don't mention it."

Lyney

art: @ rinrenran_ on twt

Your life had always been quiet and unbothered by the hustle of the outside world. That all changed when your family died in a fire set by your brother. He was trying to make cookies on his own in the middle of the night. You were smart enough to smell the smoke and get out of the house fast. But the rest of your family wasn't as lucky. None of them made it out to see the sunrise.

Though your family was well-mannered in public society, they were distant and absorbed in their own lives. They cared little for what you had to do or say. Family dinners were rare and conversations between each other were brief. This always left a numbness in you that cloaked you like a fog.

So when they had died in that fire you were expected to cry, deny that they died, scream to the heavens to bring them back. But instead, you looked at them with a neutral face, shrugged it off, and asked them to turn down the radio. It's as if they told you they lost a book, not the news of your family being burned alive.

And this is how you caught the eye of the director of the House of Hearth, Arrlecino. She had recently acquired some funds to bring more orphans in and you were top of the list in acceptance. With how many psychopathic symptoms you show, you could be a cold-blooded killer under her direction.

So after the deaths of your parents, you were thrust into a new life under the House of Hearth's wing. The solitary existence you were used to was gone, and in its place was filled with children talking your ear off about different types of poisons and traps you can use on animals.

This constant chatter and loud noises going on around you made you remember why you liked your life before. It was quiet, calm, and straightforward. Unlike here where everywhere you go there is noise and it causes you headaches every night. And cherishing every second you got alone.

One night, you are awoken by the sound of rain hitting the roof. Rain was one of your least favorite sounds in the world, it was loud, overstimulating, and headache-inducing. But the fact that you were inside made it ten times worse. The roof seems to amplify the sound, turning the rain into a roaring river pounding above your head. The glass windows also made it a hundred times worse as the rain sound seemed to echo off the glass every time it hit it. You tried to retreat under the pillows and blanket, hoping the sound would become more bearable. But it only seems to grow louder. Your thoughts started jumbling together and this hot achy feeling spread across your whole body.

As if someone took control of your body and made you watch frames of what was happening. You got up from the bed and stumbled your way out of the bedroom shared by other orphans and into the hallway.

Unbeknownst to you in your panic, a figure watched you make your way into an empty room with a concerned look spread across their face. Following you into the room he found you huddled in the corner rocking yourself back and forward as if to comfort yourself, gripping your ears, tears streaming down your face, and eyes having a distant look on them. He's dealt with panic attacks before from some of his other siblings. He gets down on his knees and pulls you close to him.

"Shush, it's alright," the boy says trying to comfort you. "Can you hear me?" After a moment of trying to control your breath, you give him a nod.

He gives you a small smile. "Good, can you tell me what you feel?"

You feel his sleeve "F-fabric," You answer.

"Good, now can you name five things in front of you?"

"Bookcase, carpet... lamp, book, and um chair." You feel your control over your body comes back. You slow down your breathing and sigh in relief that you can't hear the sound of the rain anymore. Pulling away from the mystery person you are faced with the right-hand man of 'father' in front of them, Lyney. Jumping back in surprise you let out a string of apologies. One of the rules of the house was to not cry. They would kick you out for this, would they?

"Hehe, it's alright (Y/n)," the magician says. "Now if you don't mind me asking, what were you crying about?"

"Um, I-i am not good with loud noises. They cause me to have headaches." You confess to the man. "And the rain sound is overwhelming for me and I can't think straight when I hear it."

"Has this been going on your whole life?"

"I suspect so but it has gotten worse since I got here. With all the screaming children and stuff."

Lyney hums under his breath and rests his chin on his hand as he thinks. After of while of none talking you wonder if you should break the silence.

"Hey Lyney, could you not tell 'father' about this?" Snapping him out of his train of thought he turns to you. "I just don't this to become a big problem."

"I'm afraid to disappoint you but I'm gonna have to." A worried look spread across your face causing Lyney to backtrack on his statement "Oh but don't worry! Nothing gonna happen to you this is just so we can get stuff for your hearing! Don't worry!"

That relaxes you a little. "And hey we're family now, right?"

You let out a small hum and a small smile spread across your face. "Yeah, I guess so..." Maybe this family will be different...

Kaveh

art: @ kongqingkoqi on twt

It seems like the gods were against you today. You lost your final paper for your class, your uniform got caught on your foot and is now ripped on the side, and it's raining. You heard that dreaded sound when you stepped out of the lecture hall. The patter of raindrops sent a shiver down your back.

Deciding for the sake of your sanity you would stay in the Akademiya until the rain stopped. Even though the sound of rain was muffled by the walls there seemed to be an event happening at the same time. The sound of people talking echoed through the halls and rang through your ears. The room began to feel more suffocating by the minute. Even if you moved to a room far away from the nosies of the event the sound of rain became more prominent.

After half an hour of searching for a quiet room, you decided on a small lecture room with no windows. You could still hear the sound of people and rain but it was the best you could do now. Seating yourself in one of the lecture chairs you place your head on the desk and cover your ears trying to block out all sounds.

The sound of the rain combined with the talking of people made an uneasy feeling spread across your body. Your palms felt clammy and your uniform felt hot.

You were blessed with ten minutes of slight peace when you were stirred by the sound of people yelling outside. It sounded like two men arguing and one sounded oddly familiar. The doors of the lecture hall burst open to reveal a regular Akademiya student and the light of kshahrewar, Kaveh. You knew Kaveh on a personal level so it wasn't odd to see him debate scholars like this.

"-and for one, I know a lot of highly ranked scholars that would deny your proposal straight to your face!" Kaveh looked like he was scolding the student more than debating him. Neither of them took notice of you and the yelling continued. It was getting too much for you to bear and you tried to interrupt them.

"Kaveh..."

"And for the relocation of the ancient artifacts will cost a lot..." You tried calling out to him but he just kept talking. They were too lost in conversation to hear you. The Akademiya student looked like he was trying to say something but Kaveh just kept talking.

"Kaveh!"

"I sure as hell won't be paying for it..."

"KAVEH!" You shout at him while throwing your binder at him.

"OW! WHO TH- oh (Y/n)!" He finally lowered his voice and his prominent frown was replaced with a bright smile once he saw you. "So sorry about that I was just telling this young man how his proposal would never be approved by any scholar with a brain." His scowl appeared back on his face when he started talking about the other man in the room.

"Mhm..." All you could do now was nod and agree with him until he stopped talking. The pain in your head is getting worse and Kaveh was not helping it.

"How can you say that when you haven't even rea-,"

"Can you both please stop talking, I feel terrible right now and your talking isn't helping." You cut off the student.

"(Y/n), Are you alright!? What's wrong?" Kaveh rushes up to you and places a hand on your forehead.

"Sorry but I wasn't-," the student tried to talk but Kaveh cut him off quickly.

"I've told you this before in many ways already, your proposal won't make it through any kind of Akademiya scholar's desk." He speaks in a hushed but sharp tone. "And the fact that you keep pushing when there is someone in need of help in front of you says all I need to know about your moral values."

"I'm sorry but-,"

"Get out."

"Yes, sorry sir..." The embarrassed and slightly scared Akademiya student bows toward you then Kaveh and leaves in a hurry. Kaveh can be scary when he needs to be.

"Are you alright (Y/n)? I'm sorry about that some students think they know-"

"Kaveh,"

"Right, sorry, off-topic, but what's wrong?"

"The rain and the people talking are loud and really overwhelming." You confess to him "And it's causing me a headache,"

He lets out a hum like he's thinking and looks around the room. His eyes land on a jacket that was probably left there by some student. Snatching it from the table he brings it over to you and places the jacket on top of your head then wrapping the sleeves over your ears tyes it under your chin.

"There!" He lifts his hands from your face looking proud of his work. "Does that help a little?"

The rain noises seem to have gone away under the jacket but the sound of people is still there. "Yeah, I think that's good."

"Now you just go back to taking a nap and I'll wake you when the rain has stopped."

"Thank you, Kaveh,"

"Oh, it's nothing." He says bashfully "And besides I was looking for a way to get out of that drowsy room. Did you know that most o-,"

"Kaveh."

"Oh sorry, forgot!" He scratches the back of his neck before letting out a breath. "But sleep (Y/n), don't worry I'll take care of you..."

REMEMBER TO SMASH THAT LIKE BUTTON, OBLITERATE THAT FOLLOW BUTTON AND, REQUEST FOR A SHOUT-OUT IN MY NEXT VIDEO 🗣🗣🗣🔥🔥🔥

More Alhaitham Stories ˚ ༘ ୭ ˚.

More Lyney Stories ₊˚.༄

More Kaveh Stories ˚ ༘ ୭ ˚.

[fantasyescapes17]

Manners (Part 2, Final)

Viscount Joshua Hong is by far the most eligible bachelor in London. Rich, handsome, and renowned for his excellent manners and refined tastes. Young woman would kill for the chance to be the Viscount's chosen bride. But nobody can quite determine which of the young ladies he prefers, and you are beginning to have your doubts. Is the Viscount really as gentlemanly as the ton seems to think?

Genre: Joshua Hong x Female!reader. Regency!AU (It's sort of Bridgerton-esque in the sense that I give zero attention to historical accuracy and prioritize aesthetics lmao) You are a sibling to all the Lees (Woozi, DK, Dino) so your last name is Lee but the reader has no other specific characteristics, physical or otherwise.

Word Count: 5.2k+

Part 1

Series Masterlist [I would highly recommend reading the earlier stories in this series, Patience, and Candle, before this one but it's not strictly necessary.]

You had never been formally courted before, and therefore had no inkling of what to expect from your new courtship with Viscount Hong. Indeed, you had scarcely even processed the events of the night before. The entire evening- right from Viscount Hongs' unannounced arrival up until his proposal of marriage- felt rather like an intense fever dream.

You were awoken from a fitful sleep early that morning by your maid. 

“Miss- oh miss, you must  awaken, there has been a delivery for you!” she cried frantically. 

You sat up in bed and rubbed your tired eyes. Lily and Nessie ran into your room in their nightgowns, giggling as they climbed up onto the bedcovers. They were followed by two maids struggling to carry an enormous basket of arranged pink and red roses between them. They placed the assortment precariously on your bedside table. 

“What is this?” you asked, confused. 

“A delivery for you miss- there is a card as well.” 

The maid handed you the card and your sisters climbed up behind you eagerly to peek at it. 

“Read it aloud!” Lily ordered, and you had no choice but to take the card into your hands and read out the message written in Viscount Hong’s neat and careful handwriting. 

Miss Lee,

I thought perhaps some flowers would brighten your morning- I hope the events of last night have not caused you too much distress. I did fear that writing to you would be too forward but then again, I believe we can agree that the mistake I have made so far is failing to be forward enough. 

May I persuade you to join me for a ride in the park this evening? If you are concerned about the lack of a chaperone, you may bring Chan- I will ensure an extra horse is available for him. 

Yours, 

Joshua

Lily and Nessie squealed in delight and even the maids were biting back their smiles. Sending flowers and a personalised invitation was a bold and romantic gesture indeed; you could not help the fluttering that arose in your heart. 

It appeared that Viscount Hong meant business. 

—-----------------------------------------

“I did suspect that Joshua might harbour some affection for you,” Jihoon admitted over breakfast. Your father was eating in his study, leaving you and your siblings to speak freely about the previous night's events in the dining room. “He always asks after you whenever he sees me or Seokmin.” 

Seokmin agreed, mouth full of scrambled eggs. “He does ask about you often, now that I think of it, but I thought he was only being polite. The Viscount is always so well-mannered.” 

You frowned at your brother. “Unlike you, Seokmin. Please swallow your food before you speak.” 

“It’s only us siblings here,” Seokmin protested.  

“You should be setting a better example as a gentleman for Chan.” 

Chan scoffed before sipping at his tea. “Please don’t insult me, sister. I know better than to emulate anything Seokmin does.” 

They began to argue and you did not have the energy or inclination to interrupt them. The gravity of your situation was slowly beginning to set in. You still harboured a certain girlish pleasure at the thought of Viscount Hong being in love with you- but you were also forced to begin thinking about what this proposal from a nobleman so superior in station to you would mean for you and your family. 

Jihoon noticed your expression. 

“Are you all right, sister?” he asked gently as Seokmin and Chan continued to argue. 

You turned to your elder brother with a hesitant smile. Jihoon was certainly the most mature of your siblings, and you trusted him implicitly.

"Do you think it will be alright? The entire ton has been watching to see whom the Viscount will marry. I cannot even begin to think of  how many young ladies must have their sights set on him. The thought of the gossip alone…"

Jihoon smiled kindly. "I did not think you were the sort of woman to be easily disturbed by gossip, sister."

"I-I am not, but you must admit that people will talk about it and you know that everyone holds him in exceedingly high regard while I am…" you bit your lip and looked at your brother, hoping he would understand your fears. 

Jihoon sighed and nodded. "I won't lie. It is an unexpected proposal and will certainly generate some surprise among the ton."

"What should I do?"

"I am sure word has not spread just yet. You should speak to Joshua about your fears."

You sighed and nodded. Perhaps you should. 

—--------------------------------------------------

It was a warm and pleasant afternoon; perfect for a ride in the park. Unfortunately, this meant that many other members of the ton had made similar plans. You were uncomfortably aware of the curious stares of some young ladies who passed by you on the walking trail. 

The Viscount was already waiting for you and Chan with the horses, but you had to stand aside and wait for a few moments as Chan monopolised the Viscount's attention. Once your younger brother's questions had been answered and he had taken his pick of the horses, the Viscount carefully took the reins of the horse you would ride and turned to you with a smile. 

"May I help you up, Miss Lee?"

Joshua stepped closer to you when you nodded. You tried not to show how flustered you felt when he gently took your hand and placed it on his shoulder, giving you the boost you needed to push yourself up onto the horse and seat yourself side-saddle. 

"Are you comfortable?" he asked with a caring smile. 

"Uh-yes, yes thank you very much," you replied. 

The Viscount and Chan each mounted their own horses. The three of you began a slow-paced ride around the park, but Chan could not resist pushing the purebred horse for a little more speed. 

"Chan! Don't go far, stay within sight!" you called after your brother as he went further ahead. Your brother merely lifted a hand to signal that he'd heard you. 

The Viscount brought his horse up to trot gently alongside yours. He was a skilled rider. 

"I… I received the flowers you sent me this morning," you began awkwardly in an attempt to make some conversation with Joshua. "Thank you. They were beautiful."

He nodded. "I am glad you liked them."

"I did. Very much."

"Have I made you uncomfortable, Miss Lee?" Joshua asked suddenly. He had a worried smile on his face. 

"N-no, why would you think so?"

"You seem to be avoiding my eyes."

You cleared your throat. Why did Joshua have to notice? It was true. You couldn't look at him, and not only because he was extremely handsome and his kind eyes caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach. You were simply too aware of the people watching you- there was a group of young ladies near the trees that gaped at you openly, and another pair of gentlemen who had been casting glances at you since Viscount Hong had helped you up onto your horse. 

"It… it is nothing," you said quickly. 

Joshua sighed. "Miss Lee. Please. The intention behind this courtship is to make you more comfortable with me and to trust me. If there is anything that troubles you-"

"There are too many eyes on us," you blurted out. 

Joshua was silent for a long moment. 

"I see. I've made another mistake," he said quietly. 

You turned to him with wide eyes. "No, not at all-"

"I have. It was quite foolish of me to ask you to come here with just your brother and no proper chaperone- and our courtship is not yet common knowledge to the ton. I failed to take your feelings into consideration, and-"

You felt miserable and rushed to correct him. "Viscount Hong, please, I never meant to suggest that you were responsible for this-"

"But I am responsible."

You shook your head and began to explain that it wasn't his fault, that it was your own insecurities and fears that were making you uncomfortable. But Joshua had already set his lips in a straight line and spurred his horse forward to catch up with Chan, leaving you behind. 

This was not a good start. 

Not at all. 

—-------------------------------------------

The ride at the park ended earlier than it should have; Chan was vocally disappointed but you were too mortified by the entire incident to object and Joshua was firm in sending you home safely escorted by his servants. 

Still; the damage was done. 

Word of your potential courtship with Joshua Hong had spread among the ton and you were faced with the full extent of the situation not three days later, at the ball hosted by the Hessingtons. 

Joshua had sent you flowers every single morning leading up to the ball, and had even written to apologise for his thoughtless invitation to ride in the park. He requested you to reserve him a dance at the Hessingtons' ball. 

You had, of course, accepted. 

The reality that this would be the first, formal social event where almost every single person in the room would have their eyes on you was clear from the moment you made your entrance with Jihoon and Seokmin. 

You had become accustomed to blending into the background at balls- Seokmin was lively and charming, hence rarely had trouble obtaining his desired female dance partners. Jihoon was more reserved when it came to women and dancing. But he had many friends among the ton and was often in the company of other gentlemen engaging in conversations about business. You had always been content to sit at the sidelines, accepting the offer of a dance when you received one and mingling with other ladies when they approached you.

But a lady being courted by Viscount Joshua Hong did not have the luxury of being ignored by the ton. 

“Miss Lee!” cried one of the more obnoxious gossip-mongers, Mrs. Patty, as soon as she found you alone at a bench. “You must come and dispel these strange rumours about you. Is it true that you are being courted by our lovely Viscount Hong?” 

You hesitated. “Erm…”

“Ha!” Mrs. Patty cried triumphantly, turning to her companions. She understood your hesitation to be a confirmation of her beliefs. “I knew there was no chance that little Miss Lee could capture our Viscount. I have been quite observant of his attention to the Duchess of Graham of late and I believe it is only a matter of time until they announce their engagement.” 

One of the other ladies tutted with disapproval. “But then Miss Lee must explain how she came to be riding in the park with Viscount Hong!” 

Your response was interrupted by the sound of a strong female voice behind you. 

“Miss Lee is not required to explain anything,” a young lady said sharply as she took your arm. You recognised her immediately, despite never having conversed with her before. 

This was Miss Hong. Viscount Hong’s infamous younger sister. 

"Miss Hong-" you began to greet her. 

"Come, Miss Lee. I have saved a seat for you near the refreshment tables, and you must sit with me until the dancing begins," Miss Hong said simply. 

You allowed her to lead you away from the gossip-mongers. 

You knew what everyone in London society said about Miss Hong. She was praised for being the most skilled pianoforte player among the ton, and it was well established that there was no young lady who could rival the musical talents of the Viscount's sister. 

But Miss Hong also had a reputation for being excessively fashionable, vain, and quick-tempered. While her status and wealth prevented anyone from saying so to her face, Miss Hong did not enjoy the same universal approval of society that her older brother did. 

"Miss Hong," you said gently. "Thank you for interrupting on my behalf. I really did not know how to answer their questions."

She brushed off your gratitude. "You need not bother about Mrs. Patty. That odious woman has been trying to make my life miserable since I was a child. I am not surprised she attempted to sink her claws into you."

You smiled awkwardly. "I see."

"I have been looking forward to meeting this elusive Miss Lee that seems to have the power to make my brother miserable," she said. You were shocked by her words, but when you turned to look at her, she was giggling. 

"I-I am so sorry, I really have no intention of upsetting the Viscount," you tried to explain. 

"Oh Miss Lee, you are such a sweetheart!" Miss Hong said with a carefree laugh. "I meant that my normally suave brother makes the most foolish mistakes around you and then renders himself miserable afterwards. You needn't apologise to me, I find the whole affair quite entertaining."

You relaxed a little. You had been anxious about how Viscount Hong's family would react to your courtship but, judging from Miss Hong's behaviour, she at least did not openly disapprove of you. 

"I warned Joshua he was being hasty about the proposal and that he should have someone speak to you first to assess your reaction," Miss Hong continued as she gestured for you to join her on the bench. "But he said it was not appropriate and that naturally he had to seek your father's permission before speaking to you."

You nodded. "I see…"

Miss Hong gave you a sympathetic smile. "My brother is kind but he is still a man. Society is more forgiving towards his type. He does not understand the fears and pressures that we face as young ladies."

You felt the need to defend your Viscount. 

"He has certainly been very thoughtful and considerate towards me-"

Miss Hong laughed. "Has he? Or perhaps you are blinded by your love for him."

"But the entire ton agrees that the Viscount has the most excellent manners, and-"

"Oh," Miss Hong said scornfully. "The ton. Miss Lee, I am sorry to say that if you intend to marry my brother, you must learn to take the opinions of the ton with a pinch of salt. Being a Viscountess is not an easy job. And it is certainly not one for a weak or feeble-minded woman."

Her words struck you like a blow to the face. 

A Viscountess. You would be a Viscountess if you were to marry Joshua. It suddenly occurred to you how much power and authority came from a title like that, and the strength and poise with which women carrying such coveted titles conducted themselves. 

You had certainly never seen a Viscountess who stumbled over her words in front of gossiping old women. 

Miss Hong noticed your sudden silence. 

"I apologise if I have offended you, Miss Lee," she said quickly. "It was not my intention to call you weak or feeble-minded. I am sure you are neither. But if I may be so bold as to make a suggestion, purely coming from my goodwill as your potential future sister-in-law…"

You nodded at her. You did not know if Miss Hong was as vain or quick-tempered as the ton claimed. But in this confusing reality, she was the only person willing to tell you the truth. 

 "Please do," you said. 

"You should use this courtship wisely. Not only to consider whether you wish to marry my brother… but also whether you wish to become a Viscountess. If you choose to marry Joshua, you should carry his title as a matter of pride, not as a burden. That is the only way you can be happy together."

Oh. 

You took a deep breath as you considered her words and then turned to Miss Hong, clasping her hand in yours.

"Thank you," you told her quietly. "For your honesty."

She smiled- a sudden, genuine smile that was rare for the fashionable young debutante. 

"Thank you for not being offended by it," Miss Hong replied. "Now, I regret to inform you that the dancing has begun and my brother approaches to claim your company for the first dance."

You nodded before turning to see that Joshua had indeed appeared from the crowd with his usual handsome smile. 

"Miss Lee," the Viscount greeted you warmly, offering you his hand. He raised an eyebrow at his sister. "I hope my sister has not been troubling you."

"Not at all!" you said quickly. "She has been very kind."

Miss Hong stood and smiled as she smoothed down the front of her fashionably decorated ball-gown. "Excuse me- I have promised this dance to Mr. Hessington," she said lightly before disappearing into the crowd. 

The Viscount turned to you. 

"And I believe you have promised this dance to me," he reminded you with a smile. 

"So I have."

You allowed Joshua to lead you out onto the floor for a pleasant waltz. The dance was not very demanding- and it allowed you both the chance to have a much-needed conversation. 

"I do hope my sister did not trouble you," Joshua said slowly. "She is known to be rather…"

"Honest?" you asked. 

"I was going to say impudent," he replied with a chuckle. "Although I dare say she usually means well."

"No, not at all. She helped me put things in perspective. I will admit that everything about our courtship is… new to me. I cannot help but have some fears and concerns about it all, and… I… I do not want you to think that I am ungrateful for the flowers and letters because I really am not, you have been very thoughtful and kind, I-I only…"

You were beginning to stumble over your words and your cheeks turned hot. Joshua's hand squeezed your gloved one reassuringly. 

"Tell me," he pressed you softly. "I would like nothing more than to hear your feelings."

"I wish we could have a conversation," you admitted slowly. "Only the two of us. Without- without any interruptions or eavesdropping chaperones so that-that we could have an honest discussion about the future and what this really means for each of us."

Joshua's expression was gentle. 

"Of course, Miss Lee. I agree entirely. I think we have stumbled blindly through this courtship without understanding each other. An open discussion would certainly help."

You nodded. "Well, yes. Open but…" you cleared your throat and glanced around you anxiously. "Well. Discreet, if you understand my meaning. Since we are not officially engaged."

He chuckled. 

"Of course. I understand perfectly. Would you do me the honour of coming to the assembly rooms on Thursday evening? I believe I can arrange for our… discreet discussion there."

You smiled and nodded. 

"Yes. Yes, that sounds wonderful."

"Excellent."

—---------------------------------------------------

Viscount Hong was a man of his word. 

You arrived at the assembly rooms on Thursday; Seokmin had been glad to accompany you as he had a bet to settle at the card tables with Mr. Yoon Jeonghan. 

Upon your arrival, the Viscount offered you his arm and requested your company for a walk around the gardens. You accepted- after all, you were now openly courting him, what harm could a walk about the gardens do? To your surprise, Joshua led you towards a thick copse of trees at the end of the path that provided complete cover and privacy from the rest of the gardens and the assembly rooms. 

"Shall we speak here?" Viscount Hong asked you. 

You nodded hesitantly. "Yes- I am shocked that you discovered this, it is such a private little corner."

Joshua looked slightly embarrassed. "The spot was recommended to me by Mr. Kim Mingyu. He is rather more… experienced than I am when it comes to finding ways to do things that society may not approve of."

You giggled. "You mean he is a rake."

"He admits it quite openly," Joshua agreed. 

"And we will not be interrupted- nobody will accidentally stumble upon us here?" you asked nervously.

"It is unlikely. In any case, I have asked Mr. Kim to watch over the garden path from the balcony. If anyone begins to walk in this direction, he will send us a warning," Joshua replied. 

You were flattered that Joshua would go to so much effort to indulge your simple request for a private conversation. 

"Thank you," you told him honestly. 

"It is the least I could do, Miss Lee. I understand that I have thrown quite a wrench in your life this past week. You have me quite flustered- I seem to repeatedly make poor judgements in your regard, and I will strive to remedy that."

You looked up to see the genuine regret in his eyes. It was still so strange to you that the Viscount should care so much about you and you could not help but feel a warmth towards him. 

"Viscount Hong, please do not say so. You have not made any mistakes, really."

Joshua reached his hands out hesitantly towards yours. You realised that he was seeking permission to hold your hands- and you offered them to him freely. 

His warm hands clasped yours. 

"May I go first?" he asked. 

You nodded.

"You asked me the other night why I wanted to marry you," Joshua began. He spoke slowly- as though every word was being carefully considered. "I will admit I was not prepared for that question, and I did a poor job of answering it. Will you allow me to answer it again?"

"Of course."

"Over the last year, ever since it became clear that the time had come for me to marry- I have met and considered many young women of my acquaintance. They all have their charms, of course, but I found that only your charms made a consistent and lasting impact on me."

You looked at him with surprise. 

"My charms? I must insist you tell me what these are, Viscount Hong, since I am entirely unaware of them," you laughed as your cheeks slowly turned hot.

Joshua chuckled. "I would be glad to elaborate. I know your brothers well, Miss Lee, and I am familiar with the difficulties that your family has faced. I have watched you bear them with quiet dignity. You have a strength and maturity that is rare among young women of your age- indeed, rare for any person at all. Even in the face of my hasty proposal, you had the presence of mind to stop me and question me. You are kind and generous; but not a woman who is easily swayed. That is what makes me confident that you would be a perfect choice for a life partner, and makes me want more than anything in the world to be your husband."

Your heart swelled. It was strange; you had expected some vague words from him about love and admiration- something along the lines of what you read in novels. 

But Joshua's answer gave you more confidence than any declaration of love could have. 

You now understood that his proposal, as sudden as it may have seemed to you, was not a rash or hasty decision on his part. Joshua had watched you, considered you, understood you… and still chosen you. 

"I… don't know if I deserve such praise," you told him softly. "I have not behaved very maturely this past week."

"What makes you say that?" he asked gently. 

"I have been selfish. My fears and insecurities got the better of me, and I worried about the gossip that our courtship would create and what people would think. How they would react to you proposing to someone like me."

Joshua shook his head. "Those are reasonable fears. And I have not done a very good job of protecting you from the ton's speculations."

You took a deep breath and looked up at him. 

"You do not need to protect me."

Joshua looked startled. "Miss Lee…"

"I have had time to think about what I want from our courtship, and what I can offer.  Entering into this with the expectation that I should be protected from the hardships involved is foolish. If we are to be married, then I will be a Viscountess. I cannot live my life fearing the opinions of the ton."

Joshua smiled. Your face had taken on a determined expression. It was the first time since the night of his proposal that you looked like yourself again- without that fear and anxiety looming behind your eyes. 

"You have nothing to fear from the ton," he assured you. "I will always be with you."

"Your sister said something to me that struck me deeply," you told him. "She said that if I was to become a Viscountess, then I should carry the title as a matter of pride and not as a burden."

Joshua sighed. "My sister has a strange relationship with pride."

"Perhaps so, but I think there is some truth in what she said," you replied. "It boils down to this… I would be proud to call myself your wife. And as long as you would be proud to call yourself my husband, then I do not think that there is anything society can do to ruin our happiness."

Joshua's eyes twinkled. His grip on your hands pulled you closer to him- you were mere inches away from him now and you could not tear your eyes away from his. 

"Dangerous words, Miss Lee," he warned. 

"Oh?"

"You are only making me fall more in love with you."

Your cheeks turned hot but you smiled up at him. "And you are treading dangerous waters, Viscount Hong. We are alone here, without a chaperone. I thought you were a gentleman?"

Joshua nodded. His eyes briefly flickered down to your lips. "I am. Will you allow me to kiss you?"

You flushed. "We are not even engaged…"

"I will stop if you ask me to."

"... Do not stop."

Joshua's right arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to him. Your hands naturally placed themselves on his shoulders as he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. 

It was a delicate kiss; one filled with passion and longing. Joshua was careful with you. One of his hands cupped your cheek as he pulled away slightly. He pressed his forehead to yours and gave you a small smile. 

"Have I made another mistake?" he asked breathlessly. 

You felt light-headed from the kiss but you managed to look up at him with a small pout. 

"You know perfectly well that you have not," you scolded him. 

"I had to check- my judgement always fails me around you. You cloud my senses," Joshua whispered. "You are the only woman that can make me doubt my own actions."

You looked up at the handsome man in front of you with adoration.

"I would never want you to doubt yourself," you told him firmly. 

"Then shall I kiss you again?"

"Please."

Joshua kissed you again- and again, and again, until you were both entangled in a mess of lips and tongues and limbs, allowing your bodies to express the adoration that words could not satisfy. In your heated whispers between soft, sensuous kisses, Viscount Hong became Joshua, and Joshua became my love. 

—---------------------------------------------------------

The passionate courtship that ensued had the ton in an uproar. 

It was all over the gossip sheets, and on the lips of every member of the ton: Miss Lee had cast a spell on Viscount Joshua Hong and he was absolutely smitten with her. 

Joshua made no effort to abate the gossip. Instead, flowers and letters arrived at your doorstep every single morning. Some days he would send you presents; pretty little hand mirrors, ribbons, satin gloves…. always accompanied by love notes stating how they made him think of you. (He even once sent you a set of silk garters that was almost opened by Nessie. You scolded him thoroughly and his gifts remained family-appropriate thereafter). 

Joshua danced with you-and only you- at every ball. It caused an immense displeasure among the ladies of the ton and Mrs. Patty even saw fit to complain to you on one occasion. 

"How unfortunate that Viscount Hong will not look at the Duchess anymore," Mrs. Patty bemoaned openly to you. "She would have suited him so well- so rich and with her own title."

"Yes," you said to the older woman calmly. "It is unfortunate indeed that Viscount Hong has no need to marry for riches or titles. He shall have to settle with marrying for love, instead."

Mrs. Patty gave you a sharp look but you heard no more from her on the subject. 

The whispers were not all pleasant, naturally. Many gossiped about how Viscount Hong was clearly marrying down, how your dowry and station and beauty were so far beneath his. It was painful when these whispers reached your ears- but it was a pain that you would gladly bear for the privilege of being with Joshua. To his credit, Joshua swiftly and politely silenced anything that reached his ears. 

The weeks flew by; and on the 30th day from his initial hasty proposal, Viscount Joshua Hong appeared once more on your doorstep just before suppertime. (This time with notice- Dotty had been able to prepare her venison pie.)

"My father is away on business," you informed Joshua as you led him to the dining room where your siblings were all waiting for supper to be served. "So I am afraid that you will not be able to ask for his permission to  propose to me again."

"How unfortunate," Joshua said with a chuckle as Lily ran up to him and greeted him with a hug. He lifted her into his arms easily and set her down in her seat at the table. "It would be very inappropriate to propose to you without permission- but whose permission shall I seek?"

Chan piped up. "You could ask Jihoon."

Jihoon looked up from his plate with a raised eyebrow. "I would not dare to assume such a monumental responsibility. You will have to seek permission elsewhere."

"Seokmin?" Joshua asked. 

Seokmin shrugged. "Ask me again after supper. I am too hungry to grant any permissions at the moment."

Joshua chuckled. "Chan?"

Chan rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I could be persuaded… for the price of an Arabian horse, perhaps?"

"Absolutely not," you said firmly. 

Joshua settled down into his seat and turned to your little sister Lily, who was looking up at him with a big smile and a gap in her teeth. 

"What shall I do, Lily?" Joshua asked her with a mock sigh. "I had hoped to propose to your elder sister tonight, but your father is not in town and none of your brothers will grant me permission."

Lily frowned. "Why do you need permission?"

"It is good manners to seek the permission of a woman's loved ones before making an offer to her."

"Then I shall grant you permission, Viscount Hong! You may marry my sister."

You couldn't hold back your laugh; Nessie giggled and the corner of even Jihoon's lips curved upwards. Joshua gracefully accepted her permission and then turned to you with his usual handsome, charming smile. 

"Well, Miss Lee; what say you? Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?" Joshua asked you with a chuckle. Lily looked up at you expectantly with big eyes. 

You smiled back at Joshua. 

"Well, since Lily has granted her permission…"

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes, Viscount Hong. I would be honoured to become your wife."

—--------------------------------------------------------

[dreaming-of-old-encounters]

The Fifth (Poly! Sleep Token x Fem! OC) Part I

Summary: The members of Sleep Token are exhausted, utterly drained. Sleep beckons for a new addition to take the load off the group; A Fifth.

Word count: 1.8K

I hope y'all enjoy I have a few parts planned out with the potential of this becoming a longer piece if you're interested. Poly! Sleep Token with a Fem! OC but can definitely be read as reader insert.

This was the third night in a row that he had dreamed of, well Vessel wasn't sure what he was dreaming of. It was never pleasant, Sleep's dream rarely ever were, but these were different. 

They were never like this when II, or III first began to plague his dreams. Sleep had been clear with them. They had come with a sense of purpose and drive to seek the new members out. Nor was this like the other messages Sleep had sent Vessel, she had always been clear, given him instructions or a goal. Those dreams had always felt real; Vessel could feel every touch, hear every word, and move freely sheltered in the safety of the dream world Sleep had created.

But this was completely out of his realm.

The clearness of the dreams had been replaced with flashes of images. Mousy hair, deep brown eyes, and pale translucent skin. Never a clear image, and never tangible. He had tried to reach out to the being when the dreams started to happen but the uneasiness of it all had prevented him. It was as if he was tied down and gagged, unable to respond to the chaos around him.

Was it fear? 

No. 

Even when Sleep punished her followers, the fear was never like this. That came with understanding, while sometimes cruel Vessel understood it. This was completely different, wild, unnerving and Vessel did not like it.

Reaching out blindly to the side table by his bed, Vessel searched for his phone. Lifting it to his face, expecting a light to blind him as he turned it on. A low sign left his lips, he had forgotten to plug the darn thing in again. No matter what  time it was now there was no going back to bed. His head was too filled with a heavy confusion he had not felt since the early days of Sleep Token, since the early days of his connection to Sleep herself. 

Pulling himself from the bed, he grabbed an extra hoodie and his mask. Stuffing them both on unceremoniously before dragging himself out of the warm comfort of his room. The promise of a warm cup of tea urging himself forward and down the creaky steps of the band's shared home. 

Even with the newfound success of the band they all still remained in the older Vicornian style home. It was easier that way, the quiet allowed all of them to maintain their identities, at least the very little left that remained of each of them, but had also allowed them to Worship and write in peace. Vessel would not admit this, but the house was one of the first places he had felt at peace in a long time. He was not willing to leave its comforts and as long as the rest of his band allowed him to stay there, he would. 

Entering the kitchen he was surprised to find a tired II, shoulders slump slightly waiting on the kettle to finish boiling. The soft early morning light was the only thing eliminating the kitchen around them, it couldn't be later than four or five in the morning.

 Vessel walk towards the smaller man resting his forehead lightly on top of his head. 

"You're up early?"

II turned slightly to look up at Vessel, his bright blue eye still glossy with sleep, "Couldn't get back to sleep"

Vessel frowned at this but only responded with a quiet hum. 

Reaching over the smaller man, he grabbed their two cups.

 II quickly corrected him, "Better make it four, I heard III & IV moving around when I came down."

Vessel paused a moment longer, his frown drawing deeper onto his hidden features. This information concerned him, the other vessels rarely were affected by Sleep's dreams. Well at least not like he was, being the first of the vessels chosen he had a certain connection with Sleep they did not. For all of them to be having troubles in the dream world, something was not right. 

"Alright, why don't you throw some more wood into the furnace and get some blankets together in the living room and I'll finish up here?"  Vessel suggested.

II nodded at him, before pulling away from the stove. Rubbing his hands over his arms to warm up. It was cold in the house, they had yet to bother adding heating past the wood furnace in the living room and the space heaters in their own rooms. Though IV had refused this comfort all together claiming it was a fire hazard. The other vessels knew it was just an excuse for the man to crawl into their beds when the nights got unbearably cold. Regardless it didn't seem like a big deal as they had planned on getting heating earlier that year but with their sudden rise to fame, home repairs were quickly forgotten. Lost among the other tasks left undone thanks to their busy schedules; not that others minded the extra company. 

Vessel continued to watch the water boil in front of him as he placed the tea bags into their cups, making sure to add an extra sugar cube into III's mug. The routine felt mindless, his thoughts consuming him as he dropped each bag into their mugs. 

Behind him footsteps joined II's, followed by quiet chatter. 

II had busied himself with gathering all the blankets he could, dumping them onto the large couch before moving forwards to feed the flames of the old stone furnace. 

"Looks like we need to cut some more wood this week" IV's voice carried from the stairs as he and III made their way down.

II gave a little chuckle before responding, "I have been telling Ves for days now, but you know how he gets..." trailing off a bit at the end of the sentence. He hadnt meant it in a rude way, IV knew that. But an odd energy had settled into the house the past week, that none of them really understood. Maybe it was the cold, gloomy weather but it had felt more than that recently. 

Walking over to II, IV reached down to help restack some of the wood that piled next to the furnace. "and what about you II, Feeling alright? haven't been much yourself lately either?" 

II paused at this, "yeah Ivy I'm alright" a small smile touching his lips before throwing another log into the flames, "just a bit tired I guess" he added. 

III looked at his two band mates from the spot of the sofa that he had claimed, while he was probably the least in-tuned with the group's feeling but he too had felt the energy shift in the house the past couple of days. That same feeling consuming the air around them now, causing him to shift uncomfortably in his seat.

"Alright you two, get your asses over here I'm freezing"  he held wide arm open, holding extra blankets out to them. Desperately trying to escape the heavy feeling beginning to form in his throat. 

It was domestic really, the three of them snuggled up together on the couch, eyes half closed enjoying the warmth of each other's company. It had been a while since they had been able to relax like this, with the end of the UK Tour, dealing with business deals,signing onto a new record company along with preparing for the upcoming North American tour things had been overwhelmingly busy. It was beginning to be clear that it was taking a toll on the group.

The high pitch whistle of the kettle barely took Vessel away from the thoughts that currently tormented his brain. Running through the lists of things they had to complete before the start of tour. The record label wanted them to start to write for the new album, not to mention his commitments to Sleep, it felt endless.

He grabbed a tray from underneath the counter carefully putting each mug on to it, before turning to the pantry to grab them some biscuits. 

And of course there was the matter of his dreams, flashes of the mousy brown hair flickered through his thoughts as he shifted through the shelves looking for the biscuits. They would need to go into town soon, their pantry was starting to look empty. Just another thing for his endless list of tasks. 

He was tired, beyond tired. He was burning out. 

Turning off the stove, Vessel grabbed the tray of mugs letting his mind wander over to his bandmates in the other room. He knew they were just as tired as he was and it was beginning to frustrate him that he couldn't take more of their burden off their shoulders. But he himself was beginning to fall behind on his duties. 

 Long strides brought him into the living room quickly even with the extra care taken not to spill the tray full of steaming mugs in his hands. 

His bandmate lifting their tried heads enough to great him. III's excited eyes twinkling at the package of biscuits laying on the tray. Ivy always greeted him with a sweet smile and kind words. Finally the lazy eyes of II watching him move into the room with careful consideration. He would look almost uninterested to most but both had been around each other long enough to understand that was far from the case. 

Vessel placed the tray down in front of the Trio, grabbing his own dark blue mug standing there a bit awkwardly trying to find his place. It was II that shuffled away so that Vessel could find his place in between him and III. Slotting himself in the group, Vessel let out a deep sigh, closing his eyes and allowing the warmth of his mug to warm his hands. 

IV leaned down grabbing his and III's respective mugs, and of course the roll of biscuits for III. Who made quick work at opening them and stuffing one in his mouth. Turning himself towards IV, "ew want one" mouth half full with the buttery snack. 

"Sleep help us III, I swear you have no manners" IV chucked before grabbing the snack from his hand and stuffing one in his own mouth. 

II watched the two quietly bicker back and forth before reaching down to the table for his own mug, "Ves?" he begun to question the singer next to him, "hm?" he responded, eyes still loosely shut, as his head hung lazily behind him on the couch.  

"Why aren't you using your favorit-" II stopped mid sentence eyeing the dark blue mug Vessel had insisted on using daily gripped tightly in the singer's hands,something about how it fit in his hands & the texture II couldn't quite remember now. 

"What was that II?" Vessel had responded not bothering to open his eyes. 

“Don't worry about it" II leaned back into the side of the singer, his eyes not leaving the fifth mug swirling a deep mousy brown still resting on the table. "It’s nothing" he repeated to himself.

[sotwk]

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

Part 1 / Part 2

Summary: After having his proposals and professions rejected by the woman he loves, Éomer still refuses to be dissuaded. He vows to continue fighting for a future with her--even if that means having to let go for the time being.

Word count: 6.7k

Dedicated to anyone who has ever known the pain of loving someone you could not have. <3

Content: Boromir lives (!), angsty romance, declarations of love, jealousy, mutual pining, class division, shield-maiden, Éomer King, Rohirrim OCs, post-RotK, non-canon pairing

Rating: T (Teens and up)

Warnings: Sensuality gets steamy, but nothing explicit. Mentions of old battle injuries.

To Read on AO3: Link

Taken 

PART THREE

Third Age 3019 May 6

Minas Tirith, Gondor

“If you would allow me to propose something your Grace, I--”

“Éomer.” The King of Rohan growled the ungentle correction with an irritated shake of his head. “If I have leave from your king to continue calling him Elessar, then I will not abide frivolous formalities from you…Captain. And speak freely! It is your candor that I came here for, as much as your counsel."

Boromir chuckled faintly. “Very well.” He downed the last of the wine in his goblet before picking up the jug to refill it, then reaching across the table to serve his guest as well. 

While Éomer took a hearty swig, Boromir used the extra seconds of silence to weigh his next words. The noble horse-lord had done most of the talking since his arrival at the house not an hour ago, rambling on with barely contained agitation that would have frightened or offended anyone unfamiliar with his character. But Boromir had known Théodred’s cousin since he was a child, and while he was not nearly as close to Éomer as he had been with the late Prince of Rohan, their friendship had deepened enough--especially over the past few months--to familiarize Boromir with the trigger points of his temper. 

And Boromir had never before seen him more sensitive about a topic than the matter they had at hand. 

Love certainly wields such terrible power over a man, the Captain-General of Gondor mused, before clearing his throat. 

“I will gladly fulfill your request of watching over her in your absence, making sure she is well-treated and wants for nothing,” he began. “But a soldier can quickly grow restless without sufficient martial exercise.” 

“I agree.” Éomer leaned forward to fold his arms across the table. “Has she not been here long enough for your men to grow accustomed to seeing her at the training grounds? None of them need spar against her or even alongside her if they do not wish to. She would be content to practice drills on her own. In fact, she may even prefer it.”  

“My men will tolerate her presence just fine. The valor she showed on Pelennor was well-witnessed, and stories of it have circulated around our garrison,” Boromir said. “I admit she may inevitably overhear crass remarks from some passing boor among the citizenry. A woman warrior still remains an oddity in these parts. But I am sure she did not come to her status without learning how to weather such criticisms.” 

“Yes.” Éomer stared at the empty goblet he rotated slowly between his hands. “She has had to bear with a lot of ignorant talk over the years.”

“Which is why I propose taking her as a member of my company while you are away. Just temporarily,” Boromir added quickly, noting the immediate change in the horse-lord's demeanor. “It will help her feel more at ease while here, separated from you and her countrymen, if she had a group to belong to.”

“She has already taken a strong liking to your Aerdis. Which, I must confess, took me by surprise.”

Boromir smiled at this, his fool heart ready to burst with joy at every casual mention of his betrothed. “My lady is an easy one to love,” he said simply. “And indeed, the two seem to enjoy each other's company. I am certain Aerdis would be happy to continue acquainting her with all of her treasured haunts within the city and even beyond its walls. But…” 

He rubbed his jaw slowly, ever the unconscious tell of his discomfort with the situation at hand. But it was no use dancing around the real counsel he wished to present to Éomer King. “When it comes to daily labors, a shield-maiden will likely be happier with work better suited to her talents.”

Éomer cocked an eyebrow, clearly undeceived by Boromir’s attempts at off-handedness. “What sort of work? I sense you have something specific in mind.”

“I do,” Boromir admitted. “And I shall explain it to you plainly, although I will first say that it is both a suggestion and a request for a favor.” At this point he considered offering Éomer another refill of his drink, but the deepening scowl on the man’s face made him think better of it. “As you may have heard, I have been charged by King Elessar to lead the delegation that will treat with the Southrons. Sadhar has already come forward with an offer to parley, as soon as next month.”

Éomer’s eyes widened; he caught on even faster than Boromir had expected him to. “And you wish to include her in your delegation?”

“With your approval, yes.”

“You do not have it!” Éomer exclaimed. “And how could you propose such a thing?! Have you forgotten how she was so nearly dragged off by those animals to be taken who knows where for purposes I dare not even think of?”

“Are you really asking that of the man who came to her aid?”

It was a risky move to prod at that wound, but Éomer looked properly chastised by it. “You rescued her,” he conceded. “And for that I shall eternally be in your debt. But I cannot pretend to understand why you wish to involve her in any dealings with Harad.”

“You must see why I thought of her,” Boromir insisted. “You, who can personally attest to what she is capable of.” But Éomer continued to look too distraught to think, so he laid the rest out. “I can count on the fingers of one hand every person I know who can speak a Haradric dialect with reliable accuracy. Half of them died in the war.”

Éomer rose abruptly, nearly knocking over his chair in his state. Muttering indistinctly, he turned his back to Boromir to glare out the nearest window and brood at the rain lashing against the glass panes. 

“When Théodred used to boast to me about her, I dismissed it as a mentor's pride in his fanciful protégé,” Boromir continued. “I suppose I too allowed myself to be distracted by her sex. But she really is a hidden gem in your Éored, is she not? Your cousin invested in her training with great thoughtfulness, and it has borne fruit marvelously. He really believed--”

Éomer slammed the heel of his hand on the window frame. “Théodred was not the one hopelessly in love with her for so many years! There lies the difference!” he snapped. “So when you ask for my consent to take her to meet with our enemies, consider that you are asking me to risk the life of the woman I absolutely refuse to live my own life without!”

And while Boromir reacted with silence, he stood there, breathing hard, one fist on his hip and the other hand pressed over his forehead. “Forgive me,” he mumbled. “The wine, I…and I have scarcely slept since--”

Boromir waved off the apology. “I understand your agony well. It was not long ago that I lived through the same, and just mercifully survived to a happy end. I am on your side, Éomer. I know politics and duty might make the lines difficult to discern, but I hope you can believe that.”

“I believe it.” Éomer made another weary swipe of his hand across his face. “At least I think I do. Too many things are changing too quickly, and I fear a failure to keep in step shall result in my simply being dragged along behind everyone else like an unhorsed sot.”

“Then maybe there is wisdom in her request to stay behind and out of your way. The time apart may provide you the focus you need to regain your footing.”

The tired lines on Éomer’s face tightened again. “And why must time apart involve setting her on a perilous road?”

“The mission carries little chance of peril. Peace talks, even with Harad, are nothing compared to everything she has survived to get this far. You know this.” Éomer brushed past Boromir to return to the table, but the captain’s frank reproach pursued him. “Separation from her is what you dread, not the Southrons.”

So furiously did Éomer scowl at the table surface that for a moment Boromir thought he might turn the heavy shelf over in a fit of rage. Instead he seized the wine jug, poured himself a gobletful, and drank it in two forceful gulps. 

“I had hoped you could give me counsel on how I might change her mind, and convince her to simply come home,” he finally said. “Perhaps even quell her doubts in the future she can have with me.”

Underneath the anger and frustration, Éomer’s raw misery lay bare to Boromir, and suddenly he felt a swell of compassion for the young king. Would that he could offer a swift resolution to his predicament, instead of mere commiseration for the challenges that still lay ahead. 

“However hard it is to hear, separation is the soundest advice I can give you today,” Boromir said. “Time and distance are most effective at calming the storm in one's mind, so that the heart may have its chance to be properly heard. Many have learned this from experience, myself included. I believe it shall be the same for your lady.”

Éomer's shoulders heaved in a ponderous sigh. “If only it did not feel like such a gamble.”

Boromir could not help a chuckle. “Then I regret I must tell his majesty, that you cast your first of many dice the moment you let her take your heart. But in the end, you shall be the one to decide how much you are willing to risk, and you alone decide when you are done.”

The anguish that resurged on Éomer's face was almost a relief to Boromir. The King of Rohan was wise enough to already know the graver half of the truth: that his new throne was in many ways a cage, and there was very little a good ruler could afford to risk in pursuit of his own desires. 

* * *

“Take the names of any fools who might give you trouble,” Léodor said, unhooking the reins of his horse to start leading it across the muddy yard. “I can sort them all out on our return.”

You laughed as you followed him to the edge of the farmland property, marked by the scorched ruins of what had once been a granary. “Do you really think I could wait that long without sorting such fools out myself?” 

“Anyone with the gall to harass a rider of the king’s Éored deserves a second dose of thrashing, or a third or fourth.” Your friend turned to grasp your forearm and give it a firm squeeze. “Although I sincerely hope these men of Gondor would know better, for their own sakes.”

“They are our allies, now more than ever before,” you reminded him. “And I have every confidence in their courtesy and hospitality.”

“Perhaps if you were less of a recluse and better at making friends, I would not worry so.”

Your knuckles barely grazed his sleeve as he darted away and promptly swung up to the safety of his saddle, chortling and calling, “You are only proving my point, sister!” 

“Waste not a thought or care on me, and focus them all on your family!” you retorted, and stepped back as he spurred his horse forward. “Westu Léodor hál!”

You watched him gallop off across the plains of Pelennor, back to the distant towers of the White City. Tomorrow, he and the rest of the Éored would finalize preparations for the greatly anticipated journey home. But as soon as he heard that you had been tasked with staying behind, to remain with the body of Théoden King, Léodor alone took the time to come looking for you. 

Whatever his suspicions regarding Éomer's selection of you as the one to leave in Gondor, Léodor spoke nothing of them. He was content to spend his entire visit sharing the cask of ale he brought, and talking your ears off about all the things he planned to do with his wife and son and infant daughter upon their reunion.

How far your relationship had come, you mused, as you watched the shrinking speck finally melt  into the shadows of the deepening twilight. With him and with the rest of the men in your company, when you had once sworn, in tears hidden, that they would never accept you. Now their departure would sting as though you had been orphaned for the third time. 

It is only for several weeks, you told yourself, to ease the weight of doubt that sat upon your chest. As you turned to walk back toward the cottage, a fierce wind rose and ripped off the cloak that was loosely draped over your shoulders. With a startled cry you grabbed for it, but not quickly enough to save it from landing in a large puddle.

You retrieved the soaked fabric from the mud with a sigh. A fat raindrop landed squarely on the top of your uncovered head, and was immediately followed by another and another. Spontaneous rain had been pouring on and off over Gondor since the King’s coronation, and you heard the locals welcome and praise this tumultuous weather as a blessing, a sign of war’s filth being washed away to cleanse the lands for rebirth. 

Shielding your eyes from the sudden deluge, you looked up at the roiling clouds overhead, further entranced by the sight of jagged lightning flashing over the White Mountains.  But when your gaze dropped back down to the horizon, you were alarmed to notice a horsed figure crossing the fields through the storm, approaching fast, in your direction. 

It was him. Without proof of his face or voice, or even the support of logic, you just knew. It was him. 

The very thought of that froze you, mind and body, in place. Pale and immobile and increasingly drenched, you stood like a deeply rooted tree while the rider drew closer and closer, on a horse powerful enough to sustain its determined gait over the sodden ground and lashing winds. Dumbfounded and dazed, you remained, until at last he came to a stop just several yards away. He dismounted Firefoot, his heavy boots squelching in the muck, and that sound snapped you to your senses. 

“My lord,” you rushed forward with the soiled cloak twisted uselessly between your hands. “The stables are around the back. Let me take Firefoot there while you get out of this rain.”

“I shall stable him,” Éomer said sternly, but not unkindly, to warn you against arguing. “Go and wait for me inside the house.” 

Without speaking another word or sparing a backward glance, you obeyed your king. You shut the cottage door behind you to keep out the ill weather, hung your wet cloak on a peg, and crouched by the warmth of the fireplace to dry off as best as you could. You kept your jittery hands busy feeding the flames with more wood, but your mind refused to be calmed as easily. 

What is he doing here?! The agreement had been for you to report to him the following day, to receive in full detail your last set of orders before the entire Rohan contingent departed. Éomer had granted your request to stay behind quickly enough, and with so little argument that you had hoped perhaps the issue between you was settled, at least for the time being.

If he was not prepared to completely abandon his fatuous notion of asking you to marry him, then time apart would surely set his mind back to good sense. The Éomer you knew could always be trusted to do the right thing. You clung firmly to this thought while you waited the agonizing minutes for him to return from the stables. 

As soon as he entered, you offered him the last clean towel you could find to dry himself with. He raised his eyebrows at your attempt to give him royal treatment, but graciously swiped the cloth several times over his face, neck, and hair, before tossing it over the back of a chair. 

“So this is the place.” He peeled off his riding cloak to reveal clothing underneath that was just as soaked as yours; he may as well not have bothered with the outer garment at all. “You said it belonged to Lady Aerdis’s late…uncle?”

“A relative of sorts,” you said. When you confided in your new friend your wistful desire to be housed outside the city, where you could have more quiet and solitude, she had been quick to offer the empty cottage in near Pelennor that was recently willed to her by deceased relations. “There are things I can work on to help restore it while I am here. Even my meager skills will serve a farm better than sitting on my hands in the city barracks watching everyone else in their labors. I wish to remain useful, and do my part in the rebuilding.”

“I understand. You have explained all that, and well,” Éomer said slowly. “But regretfully, I must rescind the permission I granted for you to live outside Minas Tirith. You can stay here for the remainder of this week, to rest and do as you please. But afterward, I would like for you to go back to the city and remain there until my return.”

You bit back a protest, determined, now more than ever, to reaffirm your position as his servant. “May I ask what I am to do there, then?”

“Lord Boromir petitioned me to loan you to his company, and I granted it. He shall assign your duties, and you will take your orders from him while I am gone.” 

Although it surprised you to hear this, it was a welcome prospect. Of all the men in Gondor you liked and trusted Lord Boromir the most, having known him since you were just a girl, albeit not intimately. This would provide an opportunity to improve on the connection. “Lord Boromir honors me with his request. And as always, it shall please me to do as my king commands.”

Éomer responded to your formal pledge with a weary sigh. He braced his hands on the back of the chair in front of him, and the way his knuckles whitened in the tightness of his grip, while he searched for his next words, did not escape your notice. 

“Make no mistake, this command does not align with what I desire,” he said thickly. “Leaving without you violates every instinct in my body, but if that is what must be done to make you see reason, then I shall bear it.”

“Reason?” you repeated stiffly. “What conclusion are you hoping I might come to?”

Éomer raised his eyes from the floor to meet yours across the room. “I know you believe that putting distance between us may somehow alter how I feel about you. But I in turn believe the time apart will help you accept how deeply in love you are with me.”

The heat that flooded your face burned through your mask of composure. “I am not--”

“Enough.” The sadness that bled into that single word made it a plea instead of an order. “I did not come to reopen discussions on the matter. Especially not if denials are all you have left to say to me.”

“Then pray tell, what has my lord come for?” you challenged him behind your icy courtesy. “How else may I serve you, Éomer King?”

The hurt that crossed his face came on so suddenly, looked so profound and real, it was as though you had physically struck him. He stared at you in a dead silence, and you forced yourself to hold his gaze while you held your breath, guilt sinking into your gut from the knowledge that you were the wretch who had gone too far. 

“Nothing,” he said quietly. “Clearly there is nothing more to say, other than farewell.”

He picked up his cloak, turned, and left, leaving you utterly dumbfounded, staring at the door that slammed shut behind him.

The longest seconds of your life passed before your shock and indecision were overcome by a wild hysteria that made your entire body grow cold.

You leapt for the door and wrenched it open, and stepped into the downpour in time to see him vanish around the corner of the house, heading back to the stables. 

The loss of him from your sight smashed through your bravado, and you cried out into the storm. 

“Éomer!!”

Before you could grasp your reasoning for why you did it, or what you planned to do next, he reappeared, every footstep leaving puddles as his approach backed you up into the cottage. His eyes bore down at you, his expression now guarded and inscrutable and expectant. Gusting wind drove in sprinkles of rain through the door left open and ignored. 

I am sorry. The whisper sitting on the tip of your tongue was smothered by a hostile inner voice. 

Let him go. It is your duty. It is what’s right.

But your stolid face collapsed under the weight of your anguish. A grimace squeezed out the tears that blinded your eyes, finally betraying your shameful truth. I do love you, Éomer. 

Gentle fingers settled lightly over your lips, stilling their feeble quivering. A voice even warmer and more tender than this touch eased your struggle.

“I do not need words. This is enough.”

As the hardened pads of those fingers brushed across the plane of your cheek, you closed your eyes and at once forgot all else that existed. Such was the power of his touch that for years you so vigilantly avoided, until that fateful moment of weakness after the coronation exposed your secret. That moment could never be undone, no matter how hard you tried to bury the truth now.

Éomer murmured your name, his breath warm on your temple, and then his hands stilled where they lightly cupped your face. In that pause lay a question, and the last time you answered it, you had hurt him. Foolish liar that you were.

“Yes.” The whisper passed from your lips to his as his mouth wasted no time seeking yours. You clasped your hands around the back of his neck, urging him closer as your own hunger surged. You felt the tremor that ran through his shoulders when you slipped your tongue against his. How could you have ever chosen to cause him pain, when you could have given him this instead?

He broke the kiss to let you catch your breath, but nuzzled your chin upward to gain access to your neck, so his lips could continue their quest to the hollow of your throat. You gasped at the scrape of his teeth on your collarbone, then moaned when he remedied his offense with reverent strokes of his tongue. His arms wrapped fully around your waist, pulling you greedily against him, fingers threading and tugging at your hair as he moved his worship to your shoulders.

But it was your touch, the scrabble of your hands over his hips and stomach as you held on to him for balance, that elicited a low growl. In just a few hurried steps, he backed you to the furthest corner of the cottage, until the side of the bed hit the back of your legs.

Your name was still the only thing he could utter, muffled in between the kisses he could not stop lavishing on every bit of your skin he could reach. Your hands found their way to his hips again, this time  sneaking underneath the wet fabric that clung to his torso, then brazenly gliding upward, past his belly to the taut muscles of his chest, high enough for your thumb to circle his nipple.

An ungentlemanly word suddenly rumbled from Éomer King's throat, so startled was he by the sensual touch. Within moments his shirt lay discarded on the floor, your back made contact with the mattress, and there he was, leaning over you, bare from the waist up to your hungry eyes. You gave yourself an extra second to appreciate the sight before hooking a hand over his nape to yank him back into a kiss. The fervor in his response left you writhing and whimpering and completely vulnerable in your weakness. 

A deep haze settled over you as you began to lose yourself to the pleasure of his ministrations. With every inch of you, you wanted this, and the way your body reacted to his every action, shaking in desperation for more, would surely tell him that. And yet… yet as you felt his fingers grope for the fastenings of your dress, felt his palm brush the back of your knee to your thigh, felt his hardness press against your hip… something inside of you jerked in reawakened panic.

“Éomer. W-wait.”

So soft was the protest, you were not even sure you had said the words aloud. But almost immediately, Éomer stopped and pulled back. He took one look at you, your disheveled state, and whatever expression lay on your face, and he sat up fully, turning away, dragging your heart out of your chest with him.

“Éomer, please. I am… I just…”

“No, I understand and I agree. To carry on would be unwise.”

He rubbed both hands roughly over his face, shaking away the stupor induced by his desire.

“All these years I have ordered the men to give you the respect you are due. I cannot risk your virtue or reputation now, however long I have wanted this. Wanted you.”

You moved to sit on the edge of the bed next to him. “You are my King, and it is my duty to protect you and your reputation. We must behave prudently.”

He nodded, but still looked so pained you could not help but lift your hand to try to soothe the scowl from his face. He angled his head to kiss the inside of your wrist.

“I will have you,” he muttered, his diverted gaze making it seem more a promise to himself than to you. But when he turned his eyes back on you, the wanton lust pooling in them stirred the heat in your belly. “I will wait for the right circumstances, however long it may take, but I will have you.”

He rose and walked a few steps across the room, perhaps in need of distance from you. As he stood closer to the fireplace, the light illuminated a view so rarely seen by anyone, many people in Rohan had come to believe that Éomer was simply hale and hard of body beyond the limits of mortal men. 

The numerous scars that decorated his body testified to both his fragility and his strength. Many of his wounds had been tended to by you on the battlefield, carrying terrible memories that were now also moments of pride and achievement that you shared with him. 

Éomer seemed to feel your intent gaze upon him, and he stretched out a hand to you, beckoning you to rejoin him. As soon as you were within reach, he wrapped his arms around you again, drawing you against him, sighing contently as your touch drifted over the bare skin of his chest and shoulders.

Your hand moved with intention, skimming down to his lower abdomen, probing carefully for the large scar you knew sat just below his ribcage. That injury was less than two years old. It still amazed you how it had managed to heal with little issue, under the constant strain of the many violent battles Éomer fought in since. 

So close. A chill ran through you as the memory rose unbidden: you pressing down hard to staunch the bleeding, screaming for someone to help carry the barely conscious Marshal to the nearest shelter, where you could safely attempt to clean and suture the wound. If the orc blade had sunk in only a fraction of an inch deeper, it would have been beyond anyone's power to save him. You came too close to losing him that day.

Eomer's lips brushed against the shell of your ear as he interrupted your reminiscence with a whisper. “How can you still doubt that we belong together, when already you are part of me?” 

Your fingers passed over several other scars from injuries you had tended to over the years, and came to rest over the tattoo on his upper right arm. The black dragon curled around the edge of his shoulder was identical in design and location to the mark borne by every rider in your Éored. Your possession of that dragon mark bound you to Éomer intimately, but also defined your role in his life. Sharing his bed, or even being with him just once, was not your place.

“None of these give me any right to claim you,” you said softly. “You must still marry. And it is your duty to marry well.”

He caught your elbow as you started to move your hand away, and guided it back to slide over his waist, to rest over the scar once more, willing you to hold fast to the memory it carried, and hold fast to him.

“What does it mean to marry? Is it not just the giving of one's entire self--mind and body, heart and soul--to another?”

He hooked a finger underneath your chin, urging your downcast gaze to rise and meet his.

“How am I to dispose of things that are no longer in my possession? I have long been taken, solely and utterly, by you.”

And with that gaze he set upon you, you wondered: how many glances must have he given you in secret all these years, with eyes that burned with something more than the devotion of one comrade-in-arms to another? What willful blindness had you clung to for years, for you not to have noticed it?

“I must fulfill my duties to Rohan, this is true. But not even a king can be asked to do the impossible.”

“But to wed a great king to a lowly servant--” You shook your head. “Many would argue that is the real impossibility.”

A new expression akin to anger flashed across Éomer’s face. Before you could wonder what you might have done wrong, he dropped to his knees before you, both knees, his hands wrapped tightly around yours.

“My lord!” you cried, aghast that he would debase himself, even in private. You tried to force him back up, but he would not budge.

“Never speak of yourself as lowly again,” he admonished. “King or peasant, there is nothing more lowly or humbled than a man so wretchedly in love, as I am with you.”

“Éomer…” You sank to the floor with him. “If only things were so simple. I wish it could all happen as you say, but I just do not see how. I do not know what can be done.”

“Let me hold your love for a while longer, and wait for me,” he said gently. “That is all I ask. The rest is mine to accomplish. As long as your heart is mine, and I know you have given it to me freely, I will fight for my right to keep it.”

You felt his grip around your fingers grow tense in the long seconds of silence that followed. At last, you brought his knuckles to your lips, kissing the hands you adored with such devotion.

“When you leave, you shall take my heart with you,” you whispered into his palm. “But I fear it will be a greater challenge than you believe, to keep others from wresting such an unsuitable offering from your hands.” 

“They may certainly try, if they wish to test me.” The ice in his tone unsettled you, even though that veiled threat was certainly not for you, while the warm caress on your cheek was. “Not for a moment will I appear unclear or undecided when it comes to my intentions towards you. I will never make that mistake again.”

“B-but the Council of Eorl. The lords…”

“They answer to the King,” Éomer interrupted. “Do not privileges, as well as duties, come with this crown? Trust me. Please.” He bowed to rest his forehead against yours. “While we are parted, I will prove to you that it can be done, that I will do whatever I must to marry you, and to honor and protect you thereafter.”

“Marry?” you murmured. The idea still seemed no more than a ludicrous fantasy. But then Éomer kissed you again, deeply, as though determined to memorize the taste of your lips, urging you to focus on the present moment. 

Because he was yours, even if just for that night. Even if by dawn, it could all crumble under the pressures of the world outside these walls. Éomer loved you, and held you in such high regard to want you as his wife and queen. You would swear to anyone that this knowledge alone was already a dream fulfilled. 

And yet. If you were brave enough to hope, maybe…just maybe, this would not be the last impossibility to come true for you. 

* * *

They do not know. Hundreds of Gondor’s citizens bearing streamers and flowers lined the streets of Minas Tirith that morning to join King Elessar in sending off the departing Eorlingas. But it occurred to Éomer how strange it felt that none of them had any awareness of a matter that was not only monumental for him personally, but carried significant consequences for all of Rohan.

Soon that will change, the young king vowed to himself. Soon his Council will hear the truth, and afterward all of Rohan, and then the rest of their allies. But for the moment, discretion--no matter how bitter the pretense tasted. 

No one except for Lord Boromir and his betrothed, the lovely Lady Aerdis, who both stood next to her, understood what truly lay underneath the courteous gestures exchanged between the King of Rohan and his shield-maiden. A simple bow, an exchange of a few words, and a locking of gazes that was all too brief. Had they not spent that one evening together, Éomer would have remained trapped in the false belief of her indifference towards him. The memory of her kisses would have to suffice for a while, and he could only hope he had given her enough to remember him by, as well. 

He brushed the edge of his hand over his lips just as he turned away, and forced his feet to carry him down the line of assembled well-wishers. 

A noticeable hush descended on the crowd of onlookers as Éomer came to the end of the road where, closest to the ruins of the Great Gate, the King of Gondor himself met him, flanked by none other than Imrahil, the Prince of Dol Amroth, and his only daughter.

“Lady Lothíriel.” As Éomer took the hand she courteously offered him and brushed a kiss on her fingers, he became aware of the wan smiles that surrounded them, and the unsubtle tittering of a few ladies watching. “Your presence this morning is an unexpected and most delightful gift.”

Lothíriel was astonishingly beautiful indeed, with such radiant grace and sweet smiles, that it would not have surprised Éomer if many citizens of the White City came out just to catch a glimpse of her. “I wish you, Lady Éowyn, and all your men a safe journey, your Grace,” she said. “And may you have great success in your labors, so that we can soon celebrate your speedy return.”

“You are kind, my lady. I certainly hope for the same,” replied Éomer. “We leave behind treasure beyond price here and shall be eager to return for our own.”

Two Rohan lords had already swooped in to engage Imrahil in quiet conversation, and only stepped aside when Éomer himself approached to exchange farewells. Éomer’s admiration for the Prince only grew the more he learned about him and spent time with him, but the unabashed thirst of his counselors for Dol Amroth’s friendship irritated him. Yet another issue he intended to settle in the ordering of his House’s affairs. 

Finally, Éomer came before Elessar, who embraced him tightly and honored him with a bow, from one king to another. “Worry not, my brother,” the man once called Aragorn said quietly to him. “I shall see to it that they are cared for, these ones whom you so dearly love.”

He smiled at the look of mixed wonder and apprehension on Éomer’s face, and dipped his head in another show of reassurance and of farewell.

With that, the Rohirrim set off on the North-way in a procession over a mile long, accompanied by the fanfare from the people that continued to line the road stretching across Pelennor. Countless flags in a multitude of colors and sigils from the different regions of Gondor fluttered in the air, and from every direction, enthusiastic cheering and waving followed the Riders across the fields.

At the head of the procession, behind his standard bearer and with Éowyn at his side, Éomer quickly fell into a brooding silence that did not escape his sister’s notice. 

“I truly did not think I would ever see the day when the two of you would be willingly separated,” she said lightly. When Éomer looked at her with raised eyebrows, she shrugged. “I am sure you have good reasons for choosing her to stay behind with our uncle.” 

“Many reasons,” Éomer grunted. 

Éowyn regarded him thoughtfully. “Has the time finally come when you would allow yourself to be open with me about these reasons? And the other concerns weighing on your mind and heart? It is just you and I now, Éomer,” she said softly, stretching out her hand to him.  “I may not have uncle’s experience or Théodred’s cunning, but I love you beyond words, and would do anything to see you happy. Let me help you.”

Éomer smiled at this, and reached over to take her hand and squeeze it. “Perhaps I can aspire to the happiness you have found with Lord Faramir.”

“Having my affections stolen by a High Man was not what I aspired to,” said Éowyn, trying to look annoyed but unable to hide the blush on her cheeks. “But love, it seems, is the wildest beast of all. It will not be tamed, or bridled, or even reasoned with. It goes where it wills. Éomer…” Éowyn’s sweet face turned stern. “You have suffered enough, and have been forced to carry so many burdens, not least of all our uncle’s crown, which I know you never wanted.”

“It is my honor to take the throne in Uncle and Théodred’s stead,” Éomer said firmly. “And why do you make assumptions about the things I want?”

“I know who it is you have wanted, for a long time now,” Éowyn said with a stout confidence that took Éomer aback. “You are discreet, brother. But I have watched you and looked out for you, more closely than you realize.”

Éomer shook his head. “I am still learning the many ways I have been underestimating you, Éowyn. Soon I shall believe myself unworthy of your care or help.”

“Someone has to care for you, during the frequent times you would not.” Éowyn glanced over her shoulder to make sure they were still out of hearing range of the rest of his Éored. “Especially now that you have left her behind.” 

Éomer pressed his lips in a tight line and returned his gaze to the road ahead. “I will be back,” he said. “There is much to do in Rohan before then, but with Uncle waiting in the Hallows, I can hardly afford to dawdle or delay.” 

And she is waiting. Éomer caught a glimpse of his sister’s suppressed smile that told him she had already thought the same thing. Another person with strong opinions to contend with.

Éomer spurred Firefoot forward to signal the standard bearer, who promptly blew one quick blast on his horn. As the King took off in a steady gallop, the thunder of hooves rose behind him as nearly a thousand other Rohirrim picked up their pace to match his, drowning out the excited shouts of the Gondorians that started them off at last to their journey home.

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