#and eowyn teases him all the time for it

[novelmonger]

Some highlights from the Director/Writer Commentary of The Return of the King with Peter Jackson, Philippa Boyens, and Fran Walsh:

As they mentioned in TTT, they were originally going to put the Smeagol vs. Deagol fight as a flashback during the Dead Marshes. Before they decided to use it to open RotK, their placeholder idea for a scene to open RotK was to do a sped-up helicopter shot from the Paths of the Dead, across the plains of Edoras, to the Golden Hall where Aragorn wakes up from a nightmare (and then goes and talks to Eowyn). Very glad they went the direction they did!

In the final shot they used when Smeagol takes the Ring out of Deagol's hand, the actor playing Deagol actually blinked, but they liked Andy Serkis' performance so much, they had Weta go in and freeze Deagol's eyes so they could use the shot XD

You know, I forget sometimes that they didn't even have Saruman in the theatrical cut at all. Boggles the mind.

In the scene where Aragorn comes out of the Golden Hall and goes to stand next to Legolas, who's looking out at the night...Viggo and Orlando weren't in the country at the same time, so they shot them separately and then put them together @_@

You know, I never thought about this before, but when Gandalf touches Pippin's face, they had to make sure his hands looked extra big! So they used an actor called Big Paul, who had the biggest hands they could find, and Ian McKellen directed him for how to move his hands in the shot XD And Big Paul is the Rohan guard who gets shoved aside when Merry and Aragorn rush up to the top of the wall to watch Gandalf and Pippin leave!

THEY SHOT A SCENE OF LEGOLAS TALKING TO TREEBEARD ABOUT THE ELVES LEAVING MIDDLE-EARTH?!?!?!?!?!?! :O Originally, it was going to link the Isengard scenes to the scene of Arwen and the other Rivendell Elves going through the forest, but then because of all the Edoras stuff in between, the connection was lost. They also said something about Legolas reciting a poem! And joked again about putting it into the 25th anniversary edition. THAT TIME IS COMING UP, PETER JACKSON!!!! I WANNA SEE THIS SCENE!!!!!!

a;lkdsjs;kdfljds;fjl NOW THEY'RE JUST TEASING US. They talked about a "library scene" during the whole sequence where Arwen goes back to Rivendell and confronts Elrond about how he saw her son, etc. They wouldn't say what happened in the "library scene," but talked about how they should include that in the 25th anniversary edition too. a;ldkfjs;dkfljsd;kfljdslfk

The people on set who had a crush on Sean Bean were called "Beanstalkers"! XD That's the best; every fan to this day ought to call themselves that!

Similarly to the scene with Legolas and Aragorn, the little bit with Legolas and Gimli as everyone's getting ready to leave Edoras was filmed separately because Orlando and John weren't in the country at the same time. So they filmed Legolas' shots with Brett, John's scale double, then filmed John's shots later, filming both of them against greenscreen. Then they took some unused footage from the Edoras set and put it in the background. It just boggles my mind how many of these cobbled-together scenes there are, because it feels so much like all the characters are together in the real location!

RED ALERT RED ALERT THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!!! They mentioned Beregond!!!! 8D When talking about why they put in the scene where Pippin and Faramir talk (when Faramir says the uniform Pippin's wearing was made for him when he was a child), in order to forge the connection between them that will ultimately lead to Pippin saving Faramir's life, they talked briefly about Beregond! They describe him taking Pippin under his wing, showing him about the city, and called the relationship between them "quite sweet" :3

Another little connection between Pippin and Faramir I don't think I've ever thought about before, that apparently Billy Boyd thought about when doing these scenes, is that Pippin is the only son of the Thain of the Shire, so there may have been a certain amount of pressure and expectation on him. Obviously, he's so young and probably didn't spend too much time worrying about that while scampering about the Shire, but maybe that's something he thinks about while watching the way Faramir and Denethor interact. Maybe a contrast to the way he would interact with his own father, maybe a reminder of the way he would be scolded? Hard to say, but it's interesting to think about.

Uuuuuuughghghg, so frustrating to listen to them talking about the scene on the steps where Frodo sends Sam away DX No matter how many times and how many different ways they explain why they did it, the explanations never quite make sense to me. "We needed there to be more tension." WHY WAS IT NOT TENSE ENOUGH THAT THEY WERE GOING INTO THE LAIR OF A HUGE EVIL SPIDER?! "There wasn't really anything happening on the steps otherwise." YEAH, BECAUSE YOU PUT THE WHOLE CONVERSATION ABOUT STORIES IN THE PREVIOUS MOVIE! Also, why not just cut from one or two shots of them climbing this awful staircase to a shot of them entering the cave? "There needed to be a payoff for Gollum's scheming." WHY WAS GOLLUM BETRAYING THEM TO SHELOB NOT ENOUGH OF A PAYOFF?! "We knew InStInCtIvElY that Frodo needed to enter the cave alone." WHY? WHY?! I've never understood that. They get separated eventually in the book, so why not just ramp up the tension of that in the movie, instead of making the characters so OOC? "We knew it would shock readers of the book, and if we'd changed that, what else might we have changed?" You know...I really, really love these movies, and I appreciate what these three were able to accomplish so much...but sometimes I kind of hate them too -_-

The horses didn't want to walk down the hill on the cobbled streets of Minas Tirith, because their steel shoes were so slippery on the stones. So they all had to be re-shod with rubber shoes. What were horseshoes made of back in ye olden days, though? Iron? Did people run into the same problems back then?

I never really noticed this before, but Aragorn never wears Anduril on his belt! He straps it to his horse, and every time you see him with it, he's just holding the naked blade. This is because they made Anduril so long it was really hard for him to wear it from his belt or to pull it out of the scabbard in a natural way XD

The aerial shot of all the Rohirrim leaving Dunharrow was originally shot to show Gandalf's cart heading into the Shire, but since they didn't use it for that, they repurposed it for RotK!

To get Elijah Wood to foam at the mouth when he's stung by Shelob, they gave him two Alka-Seltzer tablets to put in his mouth and work up some foam with his saliva. I've always wondered how they do that sort of thing in movies, but no one's bothered to explain until now....

Sean Astin's audition scene was holding Frodo after Shelob ;A; Apparently, they (or at least Philippa Boyens) were a little skeptical that an American actor would be able to do Sam's character right, but actually a lot of the English actors who auditioned for the role had a hard time with the Shelob aftermath scene, but Sean nailed it :')

Other than the close-ups, they used a dummy for Faramir on the pyre most of the time. Now I'm just imagining John Noble crouching on top of the pyre, cradling a dummy XD

The first Orc that Aragorn kills on Pelennor fields is played by his son Henry! XD

ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME. They actually filmed Sam pushing past the sort of psychic barrier of the Watchers at the gate of Cirith Ungol, but they didn't put it into the extended edition! I love that part. Like...I'm not even sure why, but I've always thought that was such a cool little detail, and I've always been a bit bummed it wasn't in the movie, though I was thrilled to see the actual Watchers at least there as a sort of homage. And all along, they'd actually filmed something for that after all and I never knew! :O

You know, I never thought about it before, but it makes sense that they had to replace the sky digitally in a lot of scenes in Mordor, because of course when they filmed it, the sky wasn't always completely cloudy, but Mordor needs to have a complete cloud cover at all times.

When Fran Walsh and Philippa Boyens first saw the footage of Sam carrying Frodo up Mt. Doom, they sent a fax (lolol 1999/2000 technology) to Sean and Elijah. They made the first page look all formal and official, and then on the second page it just said, "You made us cry." :')

Andy Serkis refused to have Gollum stand on two feet until the scene in the Crack of Doom. There were a few times that PJ directed him to lurch onto his feet or something, but Andy wouldn't do it. He wanted to show the difference in Gollum physically when he has the Ring again. What a cool detail!

Originally, the whole part where Frodo's hanging off the ledge and Sam is begging him to reach for him happens after the Ring is destroyed. It's really interesting to consider the slight nuances of how different that would be. The final version makes it almost seem like the Ring is still calling to Frodo, like he wants to fall into the lava and join it, whereas originally it was more like "I've lost the Ring and now I have nothing left to live for."

PJ made a sweet comment in the scene where everyone bows to the four hobbits: "This is a moment where there's always a huge sniffle in the audience when the movie's going, and it's usually me." XD

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!?! They shot scenes of what happens to the other characters when the hobbits return to the Shire! There is footage out there somewhere of what Legolas and Gimli do, what happens with Faramir and Eowyn!!!! ;aldkfjsd;fkldslfkjd 25th anniversary edition LET'S GOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

#lord of the rings #lotr

[witchthewriter]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐭𝐑 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

Warnings: not self-harm scars, but there are mentions of war/battle and violence, talks of being a prisoner of war

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ        

Legolas’ is here. 

𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲: You’ve been in many battles, fights and wars. And your s/o is seeing your scars for the first time. 

𝐀𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐧

・It was late evening, both of you had had your supper, but even after you had finished eating, you were still sitting at the oak table

・Unwinding, you were both relaxing after a big day

・Aragorn was smoking pipeweed, and you were happy with your wine

・The snow was falling outside and you were both rugged up

・The conversation from the day had found its way into your chambers 

・Although there was no threat of war, it was still spoken about since Aragorn was the ruler 

・He was no stranger to seeing the horrors of war, it was drastically different when he saw the effects of it on your body

・He was devastated. 

・His gruff voice asked about what you had been through

・Aragorn filling both your cups in celebration of surviving 

・Though neither of you were drunk, the affect of the drink was starting to make you both loosen up

   “Do you regret them?” Aragorn said suddenly, breaking the impregnated silence

    “I don’t.” You said after a while, insinuating that you didn’t see your scars as a negative thing 

   It was quiet for a while. But not the type of silence that was awkward. Nothing with Aragorn felt awkward, nothing. 

    After taking another sip from your cup, you asked him the same, “Do you?” 

“For some...I do.” 

・He said it without looking in your eyes

・And he took a long puff of his pipe. After blowing the smoke from his mouth, he reached across the table and took ahold of your hand

   “I just want you to know. I love you.”

𝐄𝐨𝐰𝐲𝐧

・She hadn’t been in many battles herself, so seeing your scars took her breath away

・Many long slices that had healed badly, some healed well

・All depending on how many healers had been there during the fights 

・Eowyn’s long hair travelled down her back in a braid that you had done earlier

・Making it so her hair didn’t fall in her face as she trained 

    “That looks like it hurt,” she said absentmindedly, reaching out to stroke the reddish coloured scar. 

  Without meaning to, you laughed and nodded enthusiastically. “It bloody did.”

・Her heart broke for you

・But she laughed lightly at your response

・You were both standing, staring out the window which overlooked the village below

・Her hand snaked down to yours and squeezed 

   “I’m sorry,” she whispered, entwining her fingers, still looking out the window

“Thank you, but I did what I had to do. And this is what came of it.” 

・She turned to you then, and leant her forehead against yours

“I won’t let you get hurt again.” 

    “And I you.” 

𝐁𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐫

・Sighed when he saw them, hanging his head in defeat. “I wish you never had to go through that.”

 You smiled at him, “No other choice, my lord.” 

・Although you meant the name as a joke, a teasing nickname, he took it in a different way - 

・Like he could have somehow stopped this from happening. That he had the power to stop it. 

・He was very upset

・And went to sit by himself for a bit

・You didn’t go after him; sometimes people just need time to process their feelings. In other words - to feel their emotions...and work through them

・When he came back, Boromir got on both of his knees and held your hand against his face. 

・Shocked, you let him lead the situation

    “Y/n, forgive me. Please forgive me.” 

・Your shock didn’t waver, it didn’t falter - only grew

“Boromir, why would you ask for my forgiveness?” You knelt as well, so you were on the same level.

    “Because your family has lived in my kingdom for so long. Every decision my forefathers have made led you to endure this. They are to blame, and therefore, I am to blame.” 

・Tears welled in both of your eyes and he stroked his thumb against your cheek

       “I will not forgive you. Because there is no need for you to apologise. I know you will be a just ruler, but I will not have you apologise for my decisions.”

・Kneeling, he took you in his arms and hugged you fiercely. His hand firmly holding your head to his chest. 

𝐀𝐫𝐰𝐞𝐧

・Her gentle voice soothes you, it was the end of another battle and she was healing your wounds 

・As your partner, she tended to you without breaks. You had your own rooms that she took you to, getting help from the other’s to move you to the bed

・She was with you day and night

・So she saw your scars when you were unconscious and her heart broke from what she saw

・Arwen never wanted you to go through the hateful thing that was war. And seeing the results of that on your skin made her want to kill every person who did that to you

・When you finally awoke, she was asleep next to you

・But the moment you stirred, she jumped up and hurried to your side

    “My love, how do you feel?” 

“...sore,” you said in a croaky mumble 

・She smiled, going to get you some salve and drink that would mull the pain 

・When you realised you were topless, you deflated

・And when she came back, you stared at her, trying to see if anything had changed in her since seeing your scars 

・When you were about to talk, she beat you to it 

    “Yes, I’ve seen them. And I’m sorry you went through that.” 

・You were glad she spoke, because you still didn’t have the strength to explain 

・It was like Arwen could sense it; or maybe she just understood beings better than most. Because she didn’t push for it, she didn’t ask you too many questions. 

   “I can do my best to fade them as well, if you wish.”

・It took you a while to decide, but at the end of it. You decided against it. 

   “They’re apart of my story.”

・And again, she understood. 

𝐅𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐫 (this is where talks of being a prisoner of war is)

・You were both up late talking about life and the conversation went to war and what you had both experienced

・A deep conversation that you both didn’t intend on having 

・It was late night, with the stars above you, a fire in front of you and two pales of ale next to you

・Faramir didn’t mean for the conversation to go to a darker place 

・But you were in the beginnings of your courtship and you wanted to learn more about each other 

・It wasn’t until you took off your large jacket and left on your undershirt that he noticed the raised slices on your skin

・He took a sharp intake of breath, seeing your arms alone...it broke his heart to see just how hard you had fought for what you believe in

・Faramir didn’t know how to bring it up, but you knew what he was talking about

・You had been a prisoner of war, and had been tortured for information...but still held strong. They got nothing out of you but a bunch of spitting and swears 

・It was Aragorn who had found you, and both you and Faramir were eternally grateful 

・But Faramir hadn’t seen how bad the orcs had hurt you

・Their brutality was obvious and it took everything in Faramir not to scream out in agony and hatred

・You, who he loved so much. Who made him feel whole, who made him feel like the world made sense, who gave him a purpose - a will to live

・The fact that someone had hurt you so badly... he wished he could return the favour a hundred times over 

#witch the writer preferences #lord of the rings #lord of the rings preferences #lotr #lotr preferences #aragorn #aragorn headcanons #aragorn x reader #aragorn x you #eowyn #eowyn of rohan #eowyn my beloved #eowyn x reader #eowyn headcanons #eowyn x you #eowyn headcanon #boromir x reader #boromir headcanons #boromir x you #arwen x reader #arwen x reader headcanons #arwen headcanons #arwen #faramir #faramir x reader #faramir headcanons #faramir x you #lord of the rings headcanons #lord of the rings headcanon #lord of the rings fanfiction

[philtstone]

if you’re still taking prompts from that list, I’d love to see your take on the nemesis one for any of your modern AUs!

sorry it's not an EXISTING modern au but it is. a modern au. partially inspired by many many many things most significantly a post i literally cannot find again no matter how hard i look... also by anne from anne of green gables. anyway, this is mostly just vibes. and my own salad shirazi opinions. in that order.

In Arwen's house growing up family dinner was always a shared time of day, so it makes her glad that the small apartment her father moved into last year honours the same principle.

“It’s not that he irritates me,” eighteen year old Eowyn, fresh out of her first term of university and with her long gold hair in a tangled braid down her back, is explaining from the dinner table. “I hardly get irritated easily — it’s just that he’s so sweet and friendly all the time, I am sure he’s up to something.”

“Eowyn dear,” says her uncle. His attention is mostly absorbed by the newspaper in front of him. “If you might repeat that first part aloud, and reflect on it a bit.”

Eomer snorts from the sink. Gandalf had tasked him with washing the dishes — he had more or less nothing to contribute to meal making. Eowyn makes a face at him.

“I am good tempered. It’s just no one who’s normal is that nice. Certainly not a man.”

Gandalf, who’s in the midst of a very complex chess game with Arwen’s father, chuckles a bit. 

“Indeed?” Ada asks, with a wry smile. Eowyn blushes.

“Do not tease her, you men,” Arwen says, sweeping in to add hot water to the tea cups. The pale green flats of the fragrant tea leaves sent in express overseas mail by her maternal grandparents swirl in the kettle’s pour. Authentic green tea has a potency Arwen has not found in anything purchased around here. “You know she isn’t talking about you, and anyway, she’s right.” 

While Gandalf says, “Do tell us more, then,” charitably, Arwen returns to the small kitchen island. The rice is coming into its own in the cooker. Rice is always a comfort; it unites across cultures and races. Admittedly to this day Ada will prefer jasmine to basmati, no matter Arwen's own fascination with the latter. She sets about peeling two thick skinned cucumbers and dicing them, along with tomatoes from Mr Bilbo's garden, into a bowl. Then comes the shallot, and its lilac purple skin. Arwen has always loved the colour lilac. She has a nightgown a shade lighter than this onion, which her fiance sighs over dreamily every time it’s taken out.

Behind her Aragorn chops tarragon for the lentils, which are bubbling. He has embraced jasmine rice since childhood. His hair is tied out of his face and just barely escaping the doom of a man bun (Aragorn is too sincere about everything to accidentally look like the smarmiest versions of his countrymen) and he smells of fried onion and rose oil, like he often does when in this place. In matter of fact he smells like this kitchen is decorated: the multiple little knick knacks lining the sil, the old silver, the warm reds of the woven rug in the floor (one of an innumerable number kept in Iverworn’s house), and the cracked old laminate tiling – brown. There is some comfort in the idea that Gilraen's old apartment is still in the family. Only now, Ada has his little shrine in the den which doubles as his study, and a few more photographs have been added to the baby pictures lining the front hallway.

On the other end of the table Gimli and Legolas sort through Bilbo's rock collection while the old man gives running commentary on where he found each one. Arwen’s cousin is being educated on geology in the process. Frodo and Sam and the rest are still at school; Aragorn has volunteered to go pick them up in a half hour.

“This ought to go in the sedimentaries pile, Legolas. You see the distinctive layering – to really know we’d check for carbonate, but I’d say this is a solid limestone.”

“I don’t understand. Many of them have layers. That one with the crystal –”

“Running in parallel. Look, they’ve sedimented. It’s in the name, for Mahal’s sake. The geode, a sedimentary rock? Preposterous.”

“I found that one in Dale you know. It was, oh, twenty years ago or so now — I’d just had a pint with your dad, Gimli – you remember what he was like twenty years ago, wearing those garish red turbans (though they suited him well) – and when we came out on the street there it was by the lamp post, a little lump of a thing. I thought to myself, why, that looks just like Lobelia’s terrible laddoo – you haven’t tried them, but they’re glorified pebbles, with how dry and small she makes them – and then I turned it over and thought, where might a pretty piece of rock like this come from in the middle of such a town? But then, Dale is very metropolitan …“

Absently, Arwen begins humming to herself.

“Won’t someone put on some decent music?”

“Don’t look at us old men, Eomer. Haven’t the youth got a stereo system?”

“Oh, it's all Bluetooth now. Ah — I have your rook there, Elrond.”

“No he hasn’t; that’ll put his queen in jeopardy.”

“Keep your eyes on your lentils, Estel, my own function perfectly well. He’s been doing this since he was a boy.”

“Oh, yes, yes,” says Gandalf, with the wise knowing of someone who was there to witness such behaviour in person.

Between it all, everyone is somehow still managing to listen attentively to Eowyn as she expounds her theories and suspicions.

“He’s asked four times if we could study together after class. Four times. The next major exam we have is worth sixty perfect of the grade and I’m sure he saw me speaking with the professor last week because I was so determined to pass it. No one passes that exam, according to the third years –”

Arwen stirs the lentils and wonders if they ought to take a little bowl to the shrine.

“Perhaps he’s looking for a friend,” says Gandalf philosophically.

“Maybe he’s a creep, like Wormtongue was,” suggests Eomer darkly.

“He’s only starstruck by a girl in the engineering course,” says Bilbo, with a bit of (not unkind) humour in his voice. Then he reaches into his large duffel, which he lugged indoors with Aragorn and Eomer’s help, and extracts a box of fresh sweets for the table. These, Arwen hopes, are better than Lobelia’s – though she is sure they will be much too sweet for her own taste.  

“There are girls in engineering these days, old friend,” Gandalf interjects with a raised eyebrow, but Eowyn is not really paying attention to either of them.

“Last week at lab he gave me a book about zoological diseases I mentioned off hand almost a month ago,” she says with that earnest way she has. “That doesn’t have anything to do with engineering. Do you think he was trying to throw me off my game before our lab quiz?” 

It is very hard to keep a straight face at this inquiry, but Arwen – and many others present – manage it. “Have you considered that he might have just thought you’d like it?” asks Arwen.

“But that’s none of his business,” Eowyn says, as though this was obvious. 

“How did he know you liked it then?” asks her brother, baffled.

“We’ll — I told him,” says Eowyn. She flushes a bit. “But he initiated the conversation. We should have been talking about closed circuits.”

“Or nothing at all, apparently,” says Ada gravely.

“You don’t know him. He’s got a look in his eye. I can just tell.”

“Oh look, I’ve found him on Facebook.” 

And so Legolas has, and they all converge around his smartphone while Eowyn glares defiantly. 

“Faramir, is it? You know, he kind of looks like you, Estel.”

“Yeah – if you were much scrawnier and looked like a dweeby engineering student.”

“They look nothing alike,” says Eowyn hotly, crossing her arms – Arwen cannot help but catch Aragorn’s eye (he looks like he’s trying very hard not to laugh, not helped at all by Gandalf, who is looking right at him, and skillfully masking his own merriment besides) “and Aragorn would never be such a — a — a snake, anyway.”

Arwen agrees with this hypothetical assessment, at least. She rummages through the fridge and retrieves the fresh clutch of herbs she needs for her salad.

“But what has he done, Eowyn. The poor boy. There is a bit of dweebishness there, isn’t there … indeed …”

“Look at the last name; isn’t that Denethor’s boy?”

“Oh yes, that would explain it. Engineering? Of all things? I always thought he had a poet's soul when he was a kid.”

“I wonder how they’re doing – haven’t spoken to the man in an age, you know.”

“Denethor you mean?”

“Well, not since the incident with that poor tree in the synagogue’s front yard,” says Gandalf sadly. “You were there Aragorn, you remember –”

“Hmmm,” says Aragorn grimly.

“Well I told you,” interrupts Eowyn. “I haven’t got proof, just suspicions! He’s trying to psych me out of this program. But I tell you – I won’t let him!” 

Arwen wonders if perhaps Eowyn had grown up around sisters, she wouldn’t insist so very hard on sticking it out through a degree she is not really interested in. These ruminations are interrupted by a soft touch at Arwen's waist. “Hm?” she says.

“I’m off to pick up the kids,” Aragorn begins in a low voice (the assembly continues to chatter behind them). She smiles at him, then stops: for reasons unexplained he is suddenly offering her a horrified expression he usually only reserves for conservative Tik Tok mommy vloggers and occasions where Pippin is about to grievously injure himself on the park playset.  “... What are you doing?” he asks.

“Adding the mint,” she says serenely. 

“Fresh?” Like she must be mad.

“Doesn’t it have mint?” 

It is his grandmother's recipe, after all; silly man.

“Dried.”

“Your mother always said it had to be fresh.”

“Fresh dried mint,” he clarifies, gravely.

“Really Estel.”

“Take over the lentils.”

“That was your job — and you’ve got to pick up Frodo and his friends.”

“In ten minutes.”

“You’re going to ruin it. Mr I Can Subsist On A Can Of Beans.”

“I can subsist. That doesn't mean you can add fresh spearmint to a perfectly good salad. It tastes completely wrong.”

“Estel …” But Aragorn has already ducked beneath the counter to reach deep into the recesses of their spice cabinet and retrieve an extremely dusty repurposed jar of dried mint, now cradled in his brown hands. The half-peeled label is for sour cherry preserves, which Arwen is sure no one in this family has bought from a store since they discovered the tree in Ada’s backyard.

“This is hardly fresh,” Arwen says archly.

“I dried it last week,” he says, all innocence. His t-shirt is worn and ratty enough that its low collar shows off her old necklace. She can see the jade flower and her own name etched in the characters of her mothers language at the center.

She sighs. Kisses his cheek; takes the mint. “Go fetch Mr. Bilbo’s wards.”

“They’re going to make a mess of my car,” he says, as if he did not happily volunteer for this task.

“Your car is already a mess, my love.”

So he goes, grinning. Arwen adds the mint to the salad and renters the fray.

“Eowyn,” she says. “Perhaps the next time he asks to study, you might take him up on it. That way you can get close enough to catch him at his awful scheme.”

Eowyn's mouth widens in a ponderous oh, as if she had never thought of this. Arwen pats her shoulder comfortingly.

“Food will be ready in ten minutes,” she says. Ada is smiling at her — a true smile, not without its own edges of memory, but no longer the bittersweet thing of three years ago. Arwen smiles back.

#i would post this on ao3 but its so niche and im not sure if i want my 200th post to be this plotless #we'll see #my writing #thank u emma you always got me #lord of the rings #arwen undomiel #aragorn #bilbo baggins #gandalf #eowyn #elrond #gimli #legolas #theoden #eomer #aragorn x arwen #eowyn x faramir #gimli x legolas #is this something

[streets-in-paradise]

Courage

Relationships: (Platonical) Eowyn x (Fem)Gondorian!Reader / Eowyn x Aragorn (crush talking)/ Pippin x (Fem)Gondorian Reader

Warnings: Use of she/her pronoums

Summary: As a prelude to the celebrations on the victory over Saruman, the ladies of Rohan and Gondor participate in a simple encounter that seils their friendship validating each other's feelings in dark and lightfull topics concerning their hearts.

Note: For my dear friend @beautifultypewriter, inspired in her Gondor Girl concept. ( If you happen to like this one, I will keep working on releasing one more going full into the idea I brainstormed to you in dms)

Even after witnessing his demise, the voice of Saruman kept haunting her mind for a while during the trip back to Edoras. Despite being warned about it, she had certainly not behaved properly when facing the evil wizard responsible for the orc attack that caused the death of her brother followed by the kidnap of the hobbits. For once, she was the one doing exactly what Gandalf told her not to do and paid the price.

As a result of her angered search for a confrontation, she made herself another target of the prideful scolding. Saruman shifted guilt with skillful rhetoric, saying it was her who failed Boromir and let him die. The charm of his voice got her heart stricken with guilt. Although he didn’t waste much time on her, his insults were precise. He called her a wild beast that in nothing resembled the grace of a gondorian lady, a standing proof of the inexorable degradation in the lineage of Numenor that the ruling of Aragorn would not fix. In his conclusion, he didn’t forget to mention that Denethor would have rather been freed of a daughter than robbed of his eldest son. 

From all those claims, he presented at least one truth. 

The reminder of her father’s indifference was the last thing she needed at that precise moment. After acquiring a modest glory in the battlefield for the first time in her young life, being forced to think of Denethor was like having the victory being taken away. Her wins were twisted into flaws, making her feel once more relegated to the obscure spot he reserved for her back home. 

Only the sweet voice of Pippin bringing her back from the self absorption as they were riding away from Isengard managed to counteract the perverse effect. Given the rushed nature of their reencounter, he accepted no one else to take him merely because he wanted more time with her. The excited ramblings from her beloved hobbit about the escape from the orcs, his adventures in Fangorn, and his involvement on the attack plan of the Ents were enough to ease her heart.

On his part, Merry didn’t hesitate on reclaiming his share of the honors while hearing the tales from close, but he also understood that his cousin was trying to impress his lady. In return, Gimli told them in a prideful tease about the bewilderment that a certain gondorian shieldmaiden had caused among the Rohirrim through her courageous acts fighting alongside him, Legolas and Aragorn in the front line at Helm’s Deep. His comments made Pippin’s impulse to present himself in an heroic light increase with his admiration of her. 

It was simply lovely and she didn’t doubt in filling him with praise until he became a blushing mess hiding behind her. At the same time, he had accidentally reminded her of how proud Boromir would have been if he could have seen them together again after performing such great actions and that thought casted the sadness away. Time for celebrations was approaching and that brought a different, simpler reminder to her calmer mind. 

Until then, the people of Theoden had only met one side of her. Precisely the one she had forbidden at home, since they knew her as the warrior maiden of the Fellowship initially playing wolf on sheep’s clothing for Wormtongue only to reveal herself moments later. Since that fight the situation allowed her to never get back in disguise. The refined lady of Gondor once seen in Rivendell never stepped Rohan, but she thought it would be fun if she would make a comeback for the party. 

Let no one say ever again that she had no glimpses of the grace legends attributed to her bloodline.  

Presented with all the comforts that Eowyn could share with her, the transformation became an easy and midly fun previous step. It gave them time to have a good long talk together while taking part on a lady-like activity that wouldn't raise any concerns. The niece of Theoden had her own personal interest guiding a sudden want to perform feminity, one her friend knew that she wouldn't comment with anyone else. Revisiting her wardrove in the calm of her bedroom while talking of the latest events she didn't got to witness was a good start for both. For instance, she was a witness watching for her and willing to share details that her relatives didn't bother on comment to her before.

" He died doing what he loved, ... backstabbing his master. " The gondorian joked into her telling of Wormtongue's death. " Your uncle, infinitely kind hearted as he is, was still offering him a second chance. I think that worm realized he had made a strong bet on the wrong horse, but Legolas gave him no span to show the king any regrets. An arrow to his chest, quite ironical way to die considering what he did. "

Eowyn gave her a half smile, unsure of how to feel besides from a deep relief.

" His black heart craved only power, control over me."

The girl knew exactly what she meant. Her meticulous work hidding the most controversial aspects of herself from her father's sight weren't enough to keep her fame completely clean. Rumours had spread subtly, and to many men craving control those have came out as attractive. If the only daugther of the Steward was wild as the forest, every single one of them believed themselves to be the one that could tame her.

" You are free of him." She sweetly concluded, holding her hand and abandoning her sight from the beautifull garments to focus completely on her. " And we can still hate him in secret, if you wish. I have encountered my own amount of despicable noblemen in Gondor, but none of them has yet sold to the dark power hoping to receive me as spoil of war from the looting of his own countrymen. You resisted with courage, one of the kind that many soldiers in the battlefield won't understand. I do, and admire you for it. "

It was the most heartfelt compliment Eowyn had received in a good while and it was hard to explain why a surprising happiness invaded her.

" You, my friend? After obtaining glory for both of us? "

The gondorian was eyeing the blue fabric of a cute dress she was considering to choose.

A reminder of the sea, of her mother.

" Would you believe me if I tell you that your domestic feat remains more impressive to me than all my killings at Helm's Deep?" She suddenly confessed. " Being alone in Minas Tirith with Denethor would be a nightmare on itself. To that add one of my brothers dead and the other one exiled, while also having to flee from the advances of a repulsive man seeking to submit me through resignation. Inviting me everyday to accept him as some inevitable fate, remiding me I'm alone in the world ... I don't think I would have endured it as well as you did, always keeping your royal dignity."

Eowyn had sat on the bed and, dress in hand, her friend followed.

" If you think I'm strong, please look at yourself, because your strenght inspired me that night."

" In some twisted way that escapes all forseen ends, justice was served. " Was her simple reply. " Your brother and my cousin are avenged."

The garment was carefully placed at their side as the guest rushed to hug her.

" Vengeance is not over, because you are going to look gorgeous for your crush and have fun. " She mischievously whispered. " Haven't you think about it? The hatred on Grima's eyes as he was leaving Meduseld was too focused on Aragorn, and now I think I see why ... "

The rohirrim lady looked up in shamefull surprise.

" No, you don't! " She attempted to defend herself in a playfull tone, breaking the contact. " That's not true, and I don't know how it occured to you, but ..."

" But Arwen is leaving with her kind, as far as I know, so I don't see an issue." The gondorian encouraged her. " I got to meet her in Rivendell, and I meet her father ... If I had one as wonderfull as Elrond, I would too seek to follow him. Besides, you are my best friend and Aragorn has become like a brother to me. if a mortal woman shall eventually come to cure his sadness, I would rather her be you. "

Her eyes were shinning with hope, but not only to the kind voice inspiring her yet a third kind of courage to face her growing feelings for the Ranger.

Loneliness fading, like ice slowly melting, to the certainty of knowing she had found a friend. Another presumably lonely young woman, at least in terms of companionship that could be found of other women, who had so quickly shifted such strong affection towards her.

" As my beloved friend that you are, I beg you not to feed my dreams so soon."

" Allow yourself to dream for a while, you deserve it" The foreign girl insisted. " If things don't work as we expected, we will deal with that later ... Together. "

She liked the sound of the last sentence, but kept her objections.

" How? Do you know the cure for a broken heart? "

" Let that brave heart of yours to take the risk, not only by the blade its strenght can be measured. " The gondorian concluded, then kissed her forehead. " If turns out my brother of the sword is not the one, I still have one more blood brother to introduce you to. And if you don't like that one, I'm pretty sure Merry has no hobbit lass waiting for him at the Shire. "

Her positivity and will to comfort her ended up getting a few chuckles out of her. Not exactly because of the jokes, but due to the happyness she found in her insistent support.

" I believe your love for the halflings is starting to put Gandalf's to shame."

The called out lady smiled, clearly on remembrance of her own infatuation.

" One stay in Rivendel and days of travel on our quest was all it took for Peregrin Took to win me over, and he wasn't even trying. " She began to tell. " There are some men of Gondor that think not much different from the says of Saruman about me: a wild beast, only to them I'm a fair one ... And all wildeness is up to be conquered and rulled, owned to make use of. They approach me like a mare in need of taming, thinking they will perform the miracle of my submission. Do you understand now how could I have fallen for one of hobbits that released the forest? "

She could have continued, but no more words were needed to make her understand the core of her reasoning on her feelings.

" Wouldn't you prefer the green one?" Eowyn pointed out, regarding the dress choice. " In homeage to Fangorn, and your love."

#lotr #lord of the rings #gondor girl #(platonical) eowyn x reader #pippin x reader #peregrin took x reader

[minaturefics]

Fleeting Moments

Request: Hello! Can I request a Legolas x reader where, Legolas develops feelings for Reader during the first part of the Fellowship travels. After losing Gandalf and Boromir, Legolas decides to confess his feelings to Reader as he wants her to know before more tragedy comes but something or someone unknowingly gets in the way of that. One of these things getting in the way is someone else who wishes to court Legolas during their stay in Rohan- during all of this, Reader gets more uncertain of Legolas returning her feelings and even gets jealous of seeing someone courting Legolas. Seeing all of this, Aragorn decides to help Legolas.

A/N: Hello! Thanks so much for waiting. This was my first piece back from being ill. I tried my best to make it flow well, I hope you enjoy it 😊

Legolas x Reader

Fem reader

No content warnings

2.3k words

---

Meduseld Hall was silent save for the crackle of the large fire and the intermittent murmurs from the clusters of people around the tables. The air held the lingering scent of roast meat and herbed vegetables from the dinner that had just been cleared away. Your eyes drifted across the hall, moving from Eowyn grinning at Eomer in the corner, to Gimli arguing with one of the Rohirrim about his axe, to Legolas leaning casually against one of the pillars by the fire. His fair skin was bathed in a soft orange, and a smile played about his lips. 

You forced your eyes elsewhere — to the crooked sconce on the wall, the discoloured patch on the tapestry — anywhere but him. His soft laughter rang out, melodic and light, like a bell in a spring breeze, and your grip tightened around your mug. You knew there was someone else, just hidden behind the pillar, bringing a smile to his face. 

You thought of all the times that you had done the same. It seemed a lifetime ago, the memories growing cold and distant with each moment spent in Rohan. Were those tender moments with him, stolen and secreted away in your heart, nothing more than gestures of a deep friendship?

His gentle smile when he first met you in Rivendell, the way he bowed and ghosted his lips against the back of your hand. The extra bits of meat and bread he would give you, his knee pressed against yours by the campfire. The subtle glances and secret smiles when you teased Aragorn or Gimli. How he held you in his arms, warm and safe, as you crumbled to the snowy ground outside Moria. His hand reaching out for you in the darkness when you woke, trembling, from nightmares of cloven horns and arrow pierced bodies. 

A different peal of laughter filled the air, joining in with Legolas, and you looked down at your half empty mug of ale. You could already imagine what she looked like. Radiant and glowing in the candlelight of the hall, her smooth hair pulled back in an elegant braid, her velvet gown uncreased and unmuddied. You picked at the frayed hem of your shirtsleeve. Was that the sort of person he preferred? Polished and refined, perfumed and powdered.

Someone who could match the elves’ natural grace and beauty.

You had seen them walking together in Edoras, close enough that their shoulders brushed. You had heard the whispers and rumours around the Golden Hall, of the special arrows she had gifted him and the flowers he had given her in return. You had caught the look in her eyes when she looked at him, the adoration, the want.

He wasn’t yours, was never yours. What right did you have to feel the sourness churning in your stomach and the bitterness burning in your heart? 

You felt a warm hand on your shoulder and you turned. Aragorn offered you a smile and slid onto the bench next to you. “What is on your mind, my friend? You have been staring at your ale as though it had wronged you.”

“It is not the ale I feel wronged by,” you muttered.

“Perhaps it is something else, or…” He lowered his voice. “Someone.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks and your fingers curled into a fist on the table. 

“Peace, my friend,” he said, and patted your hand. “I mean not to tease. It is just I have noticed your mood grow worse with each passing day, and I am concerned.”

“Forgive me. I am indeed greatly troubled.” You sighed and rubbed your creased forehead. “It seems you already know what is in my heart. I beg you not ask me to speak it aloud.”

“My only wish is that you would speak to Legolas. Perhaps it would soothe the trouble in your heart.”

“Or simply add to it. Aragorn, perhaps I have simply mistaken his feelings towards me thus far.”

“No, I have observed you both closely. I believe his heart is true to you. I am certain this is simply some misunderstanding. Would you wish I speak to him in your stead?”

You shook your head. “Such things are too delicate to be spoken for in another’s stead. Allow me a few days to gather my strength and think, and I will speak to him if I decide to.”

“Alright, my friend.” He brought his arm around you and tugged you closer. “But perhaps no more wallowing on your own. Let us share a drink together and then we can take in some of the night air to take your mind off things.”

--

Legolas looked out over the plains of Rohan from one of Meduseld’s balconies. Rohan was truly a beautiful land with its gentle rolling hills and endless fields. He looked in the direction of Minas Tirith and sighed. He hoped that they would leave for the White City as soon as they could; it seemed as though he could never get a moment alone with you in Edoras. 

He thought of you from the night before, sitting in some dark corner of the hall, brooding over your mug of ale. Where had the smile he loved so much gone? He had been at the other end of the room, watching you, willing you to come over to him. He had stolen a few glances at you, but it seemed as though you were doing your best to ignore him. His grip tightened on the bannister. 

Did he wait for too long to speak to you? Has your heart already grown cold?

From the moment he had laid eyes on you he was lost. He remembered the first glimpse he had caught of you when you were talking to Aragorn in some glade in Rivendell. You glowed in the dappled light of the trees, your laughter sweeter than anything he had heard before. From then on it seemed as though every little thing only increased his feelings for you. 

The grin you shared with him when you squirrelled extra food to the Hobbits to keep them happy, like only he, and he alone shared your little secret. The way the moonlight caught your hair, casting its silver glow over your head. How you always found your way beside him during the long walks, how you would tug on his arm or sleeve to show him some small wonder you saw in the forest. The warmth of your body in his arms amidst the unforgiving snow. The softness of your hand in his, the strength of your grip.

He let out another sigh and let his eyes drift from the plains to the houses and streets of Edoras. He had hoped that with the brief respite in Rohan he would be able to finally speak the tender words constantly pressing up against his lips, but it seemed fate had other plans. 

Lady Éadhild had hardly left his side since they arrived. She was pleasant and lovely, but each time he had wandered off in search of you, she would appear out of nowhere and waylay him with some invitation for dinner or a walk. It felt too rude to turn her down, especially when everyone was being so accommodating to them. 

He heard footsteps behind him and he turned to find Aragorn approaching.

“Mellon nin,” Legolas greeted. “How good of you to join me here.”

Aragorn’s lips curled up in a smile and he came to stand beside Legolas. “As much as I enjoy your company in leisure, I come with a purpose.” Legolas arched his eyebrow. “I must ask, are you aware of Lady Éadhild’s intentions towards you?”

“Intentions? I do not know what you are implying. She is simply being welcoming, is she not?”

Aragorn chuckled and patted Legolas’s arm. “I suspect that she may have selfish reasons for her… attention towards you.”

“But she is not the one who I —” He snapped his mouth shut. “I am afraid I do not return her… affections. I hope I have not misled her with my friendly reciprocations. I must speak to her at once.”

Aragorn held up his hand. “I will speak to her on your behalf. There is something more important I need you to attend to for me.”

Legolas frowned and lowered his voice. “Something secret? Do you suspect that the Enemy has eyes among us?”

“Nothing of that sort, but it is important all the same. There is a small garden of sorts behind Meduseld. Go there at once, and there will be someone who will let you know what is to be done.”

Legolas nodded gravely. “I will not fail with your task. Let us meet again this evening and we can discuss our respective missions.”

“Go now, and good luck mellon nin.”

--

You paced the small paved path, circling the gnarled and twisted tree that grew in the middle of the sparse garden. The scent of old straw and aged leather filled the air. Horses brayed in the distance, and the faint bustle of town filtered through the thin trees into the garden. When was Aragorn going to arrive? He had rushed you out of your rooms, citing some vague important task in hushed tones, and left you in the garden.

You heard a startled inhale behind you and you turned. 

Legolas stood in a stray sunbeam, his hair gleaming gold and his brown eyes turning a warm amber. He was beautiful, as he always was, like a perfected statue come to life. You blinked at him, your jaw slack. What was he doing here? Was Lady Éadhild close behind? Your eyes darted away from him as unease began to curl in your stomach. Your feet shifted, boots scraping on the rough stone. 

“My friend,” he called and took a step closer. “Please wait.”

“I’m afraid I cannot. Aragorn has tasked me with something.”

“He has said the same to me as well.” His brown eyes were wide and imploring as he extended a hand out to you. “I do not believe it is a mere coincidence.”

Aragorn had said the same to Legolas? What was that man attempting to do? You turned back to face Legolas and fought the urge to fist your tunic in your hands. You forced yourself to meet his gaze. “Then what do you believe it is?”

A smile flitted across his face and you caught the tips of his pointed ears turning pink. “I must confess I have been trying to find some time with you alone here in Edoras, but it seemed the moment never came. Aragorn must have noticed and contrived our meeting.”

“It appears you have enjoyed the other ways you have spent your moments.”

“Not as much as I would if they had been with you.”

Your shoulders sagged at his admission. Could his words be trusted? Would you dare trust them? He walked closer, and came to stand before you. You traced the hollow of his throat up the sharp angle of his jaw to his soft eyes. His scent of fresh grass and moss filled your nose. It would be easy to cross the distance, to lean forward and give in to the warmth emanating from him. To let yourself be enfolded in his steady arms, to feel his breath against your hair. 

“You have avoided me since we arrived in Edoras. I have upset you, mellon nin, though I am unsure why.”

Unsure? Has he truly been oblivious to the attentions of Lady Éadhild all this while? You looked down, fixing your eyes on the soft green fabric of his tunic. “You seemed happy with Lady Éadhild. I did not want to intrude.”

He chuckled and tentatively reached for your hand. His slender fingers curled around yours, his skin warm and soft. “I was unaware of her intentions towards me. Aragron has just gone to dissuade her in my stead.”

“You truly do not wish to be by her side?”

He lifted your chin with a gentle touch of his fingers. “How can I wish for another, when you are already here? There is no one else I would rather have.” His brows drew together and his eyes grew uncertain. “Though I fear I am too late in telling you. Do you —”

“Yes,” you breathed. A smile ghosted his lips and he brought his forehead to yours. Your eyes fluttered shut, and your heart thumped against your chest. He was close, so close. He cupped your cheek, running his thumb over your cheekbone. You gave in to the pull of your heart and brought your hand to rest on his chest. He tugged you closer, his hand resting in the curve of your waist.

“I have been wanting to tell you since we escaped from Moria, but it seemed as though there was never a right time.”

“That long?” You murmured. He had loved you since then?

“Though I have loved you for much longer.”

You drew back and searched his eyes. “When?”

“I am not certain, but perhaps the first time I saw you. Though I did not know I loved you then until later.” He pressed a kiss to your temple, and you felt him smile against your skin. “I cannot believe you feel the same. I have hoped, and dreamed…”

“I cannot believe that you feel the same. I watched you over the past week, and I thought…”

“Banish those thoughts, meleth nin. There is only you in my heart, and there is nothing that could sway my feelings for you.”

You grinned at him and nudged your nose against his. “Should we find Aragorn and let him know the outcome of the task he had set us?”

Legolas laughed and shook his head. “We can tell him later. Let us have this moment a while longer.”

You nodded and he pulled you closer. You rested your head against his shoulder and sighed into his embrace. He was yours, truly yours. You could reach for his hand when you wanted, could kiss him when you desired. You could have him, from now until the end of Arda. 

#legolas #lotr #legolas x y/n #legolas x you #legolas x reader #lotr fic #lotr fanfic #request

[writingdumpster]

the decree

pairing: Eddie Munson x reader

warnings: drug mention

word count:

summary: You and Eddie have been keeping your relationship a secret because you're in Hellfire, but when you see Chrissy talking to Eddie you get jealous.

masterlist

You sat down at the Hellfire Club’s lunch table. Everyone greeted you pleasantly before the conversation turned back to which Lord of the Rings character was best. Eddie let his hand brush your knee under the table for a moment, giving it a gentle squeeze. 

The two of you had been dating for just over two months, but you had decided to keep it a secret. You were the only girl in Hellfire Club. When you knocked on the door on the day of your first meeting the entire room had been shocked into silence when they found out that you were in fact looking for them. 

You stole their hearts immediately. You hadn’t played before but you caught onto the game quickly and nobody minded that you were easy on the eyes. After the end of the first meeting Dustin had held everyone else back and made a ‘formal decree’ that nobody was allowed to date you or everyone would risk you leaving the group. Eddie had agreed at the time. He thought you were beautiful, like the entire club did, but he didn’t yet realize just how perfect you would be for him. 

It took him all of six days to invite you to his place despite Dustin’s decree. He had meant for it to be innocent. You had mentioned that you had never smoked before and when he offered to show you, the two of you found yourselves in his trailer. Eddie fully intended not to make a move. He was already falling for you, but Dustin was right. If you dated Eddie and it didn’t work out, you’d leave the club and then he would never see you. 

You knew nothing of Dustin’s decree and when Eddie walked you back to your car you grabbed his collar and pulled him in for a kiss. That had been it for Eddie. He couldn’t stop thinking of you. The next day he called you and told you about Dustin’s decree. You had laughed but when Eddie asked if you could keep the two of you a secret for a little while, you agreed. 

Lunch went on as it normally did. The boys all fought over whether Legolas or Aragorn was a better fighter and you chuckled alongside them, pointing out that it was Eowyn who had finally killed Sauron. When the bell rang and you all began packing your things back up to head on to your next classes, you and Eddie hung back for a bit. 

“Can you come over tonight?” Eddie asked. 

“I don’t think so,” you said. “Depends on how much English homework I get next period,” you said. Eddie smiled. 

“Nerd,” he teased. 

“Not all of us want to be in high school for six years, Munson,” you teased back. Eddie flashed you a grin. 

“I’ll talk to you at the end of the day and you can let me know, okay?” He asked. You nodded. You almost started to lean in for a kiss before remembering Dustin’s decree. 

“Bye, Eds.” Eddie watched you as you walked away from him, completely mesmerized by you. Just then Chrissy Cunningham walked up to him. You glanced back over your shoulder to see her talking to him. You frowned sharply. Why was Chrissy talking to Eddie? You couldn’t turn back now, it would be too suspicious so you went on to your next class. 

You stood by your locker as students began filing out of the school. Usually Eddie would meet you by your locker at the end of every day to say goodbye or take you home with him after the crowd had cleared out. After waiting for almost ten minutes you walked down to where his locker was to once again see Chrissy Cunningham talking to him. Eddie smiled at her and then beckoned her down the hallway with him towards the back of the school.

You stormed out of the school and got into your car racing home. When you got there you talked your sister’s ear off for about an hour about Chrissy and Eddie. She was the only person you’d told about your relationship with him. 

“Why don’t you just go ask him why they were talking?” She finally suggested, completely exasperated by you. You opened your mouth to protest but closed it again. She was right. It could all be a misunderstanding. You shouldn’t be jealous anyway, it wasn’t like Chrissy knew about you and Eddie.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m gonna go over right now,” you said and headed for the door. 

You pulled your car up along Eddie’s curb. You went towards the door. You didn’t knock anymore. The door was always unlocked and you were always welcome. You turned the door knob and pushed the door open.

“Hey, baby—Chrissy.” You quieted when you found that Eddie was not in the room, but instead Chrissy Cunningham was. Chrissy blushed at once. She knew you and Eddie were friends and she was smart enough to realize that he would probably tell you about this, but nevertheless she was embarrassed. 

“Hi, y/n,” she said quietly. 

“What are you—” You started to ask. 

“I found it—Oh, hey, love.” Eddie smiled at you as he walked into the room. “Gimme one minute here,” he said. You watched as he approached Chrissy and gave her a small bag of something before listing off instructions on how to take it. Chrissy thanked him and gave you a sheepish goodbye as she left. 

“Chrissy was buying from you?” You questioned. 

“I know, crazy, right?” Eddie said. “She seemed a little off,” he added. 

“How do you know she seemed off? Have you talked to her before?” You asked. 

“No, I guess not. She just seemed…I dunno…Scared? I mean the head cheerleader is trying to buy from me, something must be wrong,” he said. He was completely oblivious to the fact that you were upset by her presence in his house, in your house. Eddie had once told you that anything he had was yours to keep forever. You had giggled and told him that he was cheesy when he said it, but you were feeling very possessive. 

“Worried about her?” You questioned. This time Eddie heard the slight edge in your voice. He locked eyes with you, looking up from reorganizing his lunchbox. 

“No,” Eddie said. He put down the lunchbox and walked over to where you were standing with your arms crossed over your chest. “I’m sure she’ll be fine.”  He snaked his arms around your waist. “I’m worried about you.” 

“Why?” You asked. You didn’t think you were being obvious about your anger. 

“Because something’s bothering you,” Eddie said. “Out with it.” 

“Nothing’s bothering me,” you lied. 

“Well, why did you come over, sweetheart?” He asked. 

“You didn’t say goodbye when you left school,” you said. Eddie mentally kicked himself.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I got distracted by Chrissy,” he offered. 

“Seems like it,” you said disdainfully. Eddie heard your tone and realized the problem.

“You’re jealous!” Eddie exclaimed the way Dustin did when he was playing Dungeons and Dragons. Your cheeks heated with embarrassment. 

“I am not!” You spit back. 

“You are! It’s cute,” Eddie said, giving you a squeeze. 

“I am not and it is not!” You were fuming at this point. 

“Oh, really? Then what’s got you so upset, sweetheart?” Eddie asked. You pursed your lips and stood silently before letting out a sigh. 

“Fine, maybe I was jealous,” you admitted. Eddie grinned. 

“That’s sweet, baby. But you know you’re the only one I want,” Eddie told you. You looked at your feet and fiddled with the zipper on your jacket. “What is it?” You looked up to meet Eddie’s eye. 

“Can we tell people about us? I…I don’t want to hide anymore,” you mumbled. Eddie smiled softly. 

“Of course we can,” he said. “I’ve been wanting to, but I didn’t know how you felt,” Eddie said. The next day when you told the Hellfire Club about your relationship, you were met with a round of groans. 

“I made a decree!” Dustin exclaimed.

“That’s totally unfair! You get to be dungeon master and you get the girl?” Jeff complained. 

“Jeff’s right,” Gareth said. “If you’re gonna be dungeon master, one of us gets to date y/n.”  You chuckled as you met Eddie’s eye. He had a smirk on his face, thoroughly pleased at the jealousy he was inspiring among his friends. 

“You can be dungeon master,” Eddie said as he grabbed your hand above the table. “I’m keeping the girl.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #Eddie Munson x reader

[wildwarcat]

Hey! Could you write an eowyn x fem!reader?

I sure can! Given that I pretty much have free rein on this, I've decided to do headcanons for Eowyn x Fem!Reader. Enjoy!

Going from best friends to lovers with Eowyn would include:

You met when you were kids, learning how to ride. Éomer kept teasing you because you were stuck a grumpy, old horse, but Éowyn made him stop.

From then on, the two of you were practically inseparable, running through the halls of Meduseld and driving the royal family insane with your pranks and jokes.

After Éowyn's parents died, she relied heavily on you. She came to you for advice, for a shoulder to cry on, literally anything she needed you gave her.

You realized you were in love with her when you saw her after the Battle of Helm's Deep. You had ridden off with Éomer when he was banished and arrived with the rest of the Rohirrim to drive off the orcs.

She found you amongst the chaos after the fight and when you saw the worry in her eyes, you knew you never wanted to see that fear again.

Telling her you love her at the celebration back in Edoras.

You took her outside to get some air and finally told her that she was the love of your life.

"I've loved you from the very first moment, nothing else in this world could hold my heart and soul as you do."

At first, Éowyn didn't know what to say; she wasn't expecting her best friend to be in love with her.

But after racking her brain, thinking about all the time you had spent together and she realized... she was in love with you too.

She told you before the Rohirrim began their march to Minas Tirith.

"I was blind to what my heart was telling me, but now I see it so clearly. I love you too, Y/N."

After the Battle at Pelennor Fields, you are both recovering at Minas Tirith as Aragorn leads the rest of the men to the Black Gates.

You spend the time in each other's arms, making up for lost time.

Literal lesbian power couple at Aragorn's coronation. Everyone wishes they were as amazing as you two.

Living your best life by Éowyn's side in Edoras until the end of your days. Pure gay bliss.

#eowyn #eowyn x reader #lord of the rings fandom #lord of the rings #headcanon #friends to lovers #headcanons #lesbians #request #lotr fandom #lotr x reader #lotr fanfic #one ring

[judgementdaysunshine]

Could I please get a LOTR and Hobbit match ups if you're still doing them?

For appearance: I'm a chubby bisexual female with dirty blonde hair with teal tips, and brown eyes. I tend to wear black clothing or some with black on it though I will wear colors other than black, black is just what I prefer.

Personality wise: I'm shy, introverted, tend to overthink and be insecure about things. I have some anxiety, mainly social anxiety. I tend to be quiet around those I don't know or unsure of, and once I'm comfortable around someone, I will be more outgoing.

My interests are: Mortal Kombat, Marvel, Horror Slashers, Undertale/Deltarune, One Piece, JJBA, Pokemon, Animals, Drawing (somewhat), and somewhat into R6.

I'm also pretty close with my family, or at least on my mom's side anyways.

Hopefully this is better, and I hope that you have a wonderful Easter (if you celebrate) 💙

Thank you! Happy Easter! ♥️

First I ship you with Bilbo Baggins!

He makes sure to to hold your hand tightly when your anxious gently squeezing it while rubbing your hand with his thumb

He loves seeing you with both your family and his nephew Frodo especially always smiling seeing him laughing in your arms or the two of you chasing each other smiling

He never minded you being Bi always listening when you saw attractive women and men pointing out to him that he didn't need to be gay or bi to appreciate a man that is attractive

He never cared how big or small you were always showing love to your curves every chance he got to especially when you talked bad about your body

He likes helping you with your hair whether it's braiding it,running his fingers through it,or taking it out of an updo style he always enjoys getting to somehow feel your hair in his fingers

He made sure when he went out to a market that was selling gifts especially when he was on his journey to Erebor he got you many different gifts from jewelry,crystals,and books to flowers,candies,and many types of black clothing

He is a bit off when you don't talk to him the first while after you meet but after the first few days and week you begin to be more talkative and lively making him feel in awe and slowly fall in love with you

Now I ship you with Aragorn! 💚

He always stared at your body in awe when you weren't paying attention at how beautiful you truly were even just walking or standing next to a tree he never thinks bad of your body

He makes sure whenever he goes with the fellowship anywhere without you he never fails to get you clothes with black in them or many different little gifts on his travels for you

He never minded you being quiet for the first little bit but liked when you got out of your shell and became more bubbly around others

He really loves seeing you just fit in with the fellowship and the elves who raised him making him smile every time he looks to see you talking or interacting with everyone only seeing these moments as family

He holds you whispering and humming elven music when your anxious slowly rubbing your side or arm to help you calm down sometime even putting you to sleep by it

He loves running his fingers through your hair not only does it help detangle your hair but it also grounds him when he is stressed or tired and he always likes running his fingers in your hair when you shower together under the warm water

He didn't mind you being Bi at all even helping you flirt with women before and after the two of you got together but taking a chance to tease you about your crush on Arwen and Eowyn leading to smacking him on the chest while the two girls laugh

#lord of the rings x reader #bilbo baggins #the hobbit #aragorn x reader #lord of the rings #bilbo baggins x reader #aragorn #the hobbit x reader

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

I'm a shameless Eomer fangirl, so it's my moral duty to ask for the character opinion thing on his behalf :)

yessssss FINALLY an Eomer ask <3 <3 I was waiting for him to drop into my ask box

previous asks: Elrond, Gimli, Eowyn (cw: I get a little spicy in there)

I just feel like with most of fandom, when it comes to their Takes and Views on characters, it's all wrong. The only people doing it right is me and my friends.

So Eomer is someone who, in the books, gets these great teasers of complexity and depth and then just…it's dropped. Hence the "wasted potential" tile being crossed out. It's tied to "not enough screen/page time".

Most of the teasing at Eomer being a little more complicated than just a truculent, hot-headed, stroppy, lance-happy lord (affectionate) comes from the Voice of Saruman chapter. Of course, Saruman is hardly a reliable son of a gun, so his naming Eomer as a viper in the king's household is really meant just to unsettle poor Theoden who has experienced betrayal close to home already.

However. I choose to read the fact that Saruman went for Eomer as a sign that the man is seen as a threat beyond just military capabilities. I've noted this before, maybe just in comments on the LOTR rewrite, but I like that Eomer is one of the only Rohirrim not taken in by Saruman's voice.

The other men around Theoden are - even Theoden himself can feel it's pull. But Eomer is just sat there like "hey, fuck this guy and all who ride with him. have we thought about literally not listening to anything he says cause he's full of horse shit?"

Grima: excuse me, i would like to remove myself from this narrative

My hot-wasp-nest opinion(s) on Eomer mostly come in the form of how I choose to interpret his relationship with Eowyn which is to say that I don't think they're at all close. Also, he reads as a bit of a controlling older brother who, for sure, was acting from love and deep concern for her, but hovering is hovering, controlling is controlling.

We know Eomer was often absent from Edoras - he had his own marshalate to run and his own house in Aldburg to oversee - so he and Eowyn weren't seeing much of each other. In addition, Eowyn we know was a tinge resentful that her brother and cousin got to be active and worldly and she was stuck inside managing her uncle's household, tending to him as he ailed, kept to the sidelines of politics.

Indeed, she was so sidelined that people forgot she was an option as a leader who could defend Edoras while the King et al rode out to take care of Saruman and his pesky orcs. It took Hama to remind people of her! (Hama, we all know, the real MVP.)

---

Theoden: there's no one left of my house to rule Edoras when I'm gone. Hama: there's one, my lord. Theoden: Eomer wouldn't, even if I asked it of him. Also have you tried getting that man to do something he doesn't want to do? Blood from stone. Hama: there's someone else, my lord. Theoden: name the man! Hama:

Hama: oh my gods it's your fucking niece. Dear Orome this is embarrassing.

---

As for "better when part of a dynamic" - it's mostly because he's hot headed and full of Salt, so giving him someone to bounce off of makes for better screen/page time. He's more dynamic when responding to people than just on his own in his head.

---

ooooh yeah I guess my other "hitting the wasp nest" opinion is the popular pairings suck tile. And honestly, it's not that they suck, it's more that Lothiriel is boring and I find how most people write her very boring and too perfect/self-inserty. Which like, obviously, to each their own, but ehhhhhhhh not my cup of tea. The other popular pairing is with Faramir and sorry, that one does suck. Not Eomer's fault, entirely Faramir's.

Granted, the only person I really pair Eomer with (aside from hypothetical other marriage options because Gondor's hegemony is a problem) is a positively hellish, slightly damp, gremlin of an individual and it's utter crack but I love it. My tastes are clearly, unassailably the best tastes. ;)

---

thank you thank you for the ask! and for allowing me to continue to unleash my Opinions and Hot Takes onto the world! <3 <3

#ask #reply #ask meme #lotr #lord of the rings #eomer #character bingo #character bingo has really just turned into my hot takes on fandom and characters it seems

[sylvanfreckles]

Nice Day For A...Wait For It (1 of 5)

(For no.8: Everything Hurts and I'm Dying)

Fandom: Supernatural Rating: G General Warning: chronic illness, internalized ableism, disability, violence

Summary: Sam and Eileen's wedding is just a few days away, and Dean and Castiel join them for some relaxation at the hotel before the ceremony. But Winchester Luck strikes again, and they find themselves at the center of disaster as secrets are uncovered. Cas has gotten stronger since the ritual that tore his grace away and left him human, but will it be enough when he's targeted by a malevolent spirit? (Read on AO3)

...

"Once I pitied your sorrow. But now, were you sorrowless, without fear or any lack, were you the blissful Queen of Gondor, still I would love you."

(Faramir to Eowyn, Return of the King - J.R.R. Tolkein)

...

After spending most of his life, boy and man, sleeping in hotel rooms, Dean Winchester was more than accustomed to waking up in strange beds. Waking up with a former angel-of-the-lord wrapped octopus-like around him, however, was a relatively new situation.

Dean gave a sad smile and ran his fingers through the dark hair that barely peeked over the edge of the blanket. He and Sam joked that Cas’s sleeping position was an indicator for how he was feeling: the less of his face showing, the worse his night had been. Through some combination of the car ride, the weather, the unfamiliar bed, and the stress of a new environment it hadn’t been a good night.

“C’mon, Sunshine,” Dean murmured. He kissed the top of Cas’s head and tried to pry him away. “Meeting Sammy and Eileen for breakfast, remember?” The hotel had a full breakfast spread, including a waffle bar, which was one of the reasons the lovebirds had chosen this place for their ceremony.

God, Sam was getting married. Again.

Cas whined deep in his chest and tried to burrow in closer, mumbling something into Dean’s shoulder.

“Didn’t catch that,” Dean teased.

Reluctantly, Cas pushed away just enough to curl up against the pillow next to Dean. “Everything hurts and I’m dying.”

It was such an unexpected complaint that Dean had to laugh. “You know you’ll feel better if you get moving.”

Cas just stared at him, and Dean felt a lump of pity in his throat. He was pale, with dark circles under his eyes, and a face pinched from new and old pain. But even so, after everything, he was still beautiful. Still Castiel.

“If you get up now, I’ll make Sam give you real coffee,” Dean said, only half teasing. He dodged a half-hearted swipe with a laugh and headed for the ensuite bathroom. “I’ll be out in ten minutes, and if you’re not dressed you’re going to breakfast in pajamas.”

Cas was, thankfully, dressed by the time Dean was out of the shower, but his face darkened into a scowl when Dean pulled the wheelchair out of the closet. “Dean.”

“I know,” Dean held his hands up. “Cas, you gotta get some rest, man. You said everything hurt, right?”

His scowl only deepened, but Cas limped across the room and settled into the wheelchair reluctantly. “I hate this.”

“Good food, fresh air, you’ll be back on your feet in no time,” Dean promised, backing out of the room and pausing to lock the door.

Cas was silent, his posture stiff, and Dean could see that his grip on the chair was so tight his knuckles were turning white.

“Hey,” Dean dropped the handles and knelt in front of Cas, resting his hand on Cas’s clenched fingers. “It’s gonna be okay. We’ll get through this.”

“I just want to be better,” Cas hissed. “I’m so…tired.”

Dean’s heart broke a little. Cas had gone from an all-powerful angel-of-whoever to a scarred, frail human during a ritual Naomi performed to power herself up. They’d taken care of super-bitch, but not even Jack could bring Cas’s grace back.

“You know I’d rather you be an almighty dick again if it meant you were happy,” Dean said slowly. Cas relaxed his grip on the chair enough for Dean to twine their fingers together. “But I’m so happy you’re here, Cas. No matter what happens.”

He waited for Cas to nod, then took the handles of the wheelchair and followed the hall out to the dining room. Cas was better, even if it didn’t feel like it this morning. He’d gained some weight back, didn’t get cold as easily, and his flare-ups were less frequent. But he still had setbacks and having a bad flare-up on top of the stress and fatigue of travel had to be disheartening.

“And there’s the bride!” Dean announced, wheeling Cas up to the table where Eileen was picking over a plate piled high with French toast and bacon. “Getting cold feet yet?”

She met his gaze with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes and held her foot out toward him. “I’m wearing three pairs of socks.”

Dean threw back his head with a laugh. “Cas? Want me to get you something?”

“You promised me coffee.”

“And a Belgian waffle with fruit and whipped cream, I remember.” Dean winked at Eileen. “Need more bacon?”

She’d scooted closer to Cas and handed him a couple of strips off her plate. “Always.”

“Coffee, waffle, and bacon. Coming right up!”

He found Sam at the waffle bar, tending to a couple of waffle makers that were already steaming, and snagged the pitcher of batter to start making Cas’s waffle. “Why didn’t we ever stay at a place like this growing up?”

Sam snorted. “Because Dad paid with stolen credit cards and poker money?”

Dean grunted in agreement.

“How’s Cas?” Sam asked after a few seconds.

Dean let out a sigh. “Rough night. He’s putting on a show, but he’s hurting. Like the old days.”

Sam winced and looked over his shoulder. Eileen was talking animatedly to Cas, her hands dancing gracefully as she signed. “She wants him to walk her down the aisle.”

“Yeah, I heard. One more reason for him to rest up over the next couple days.”

“Dean…”

“I know. Let him be his own man, right?” Dean leaned back against the counter, idly watching two of the hotel employees tending to the buffet. Maybe if he distracted Sam, he wouldn’t notice if he got sausage and bacon.

“That smell is back in the pantry,” one of the employees complained as she arranged clean plates and flatware at one end of the buffet.

“Again?” the other rolled her eyes. “This place is falling apart. It’s always cold next to the hostess stand, even when the heat’s on, I can’t stand it.”

Dean met Sam’s eyes. “Don’t tell me.”

Sam shook his head, busy plating his waffles. “We checked this place out. No history of violent deaths or suspicious disappearances. It should be clean.”

“It obviously isn’t.” Dean snagged a plate and hastily began piling it high from the buffet. “What the hell, Sammy?”

“I don’t know, but if these people are in danger…”

“Yeah, yeah.” Cas’s waffle was done now, and despite the urgency Dean was still careful to cover it with all the fruit and whipped cream his angel could desire. Two plates braced in one hand and two cups of coffee in the other, he trailed after Sam back to their table.

“We have a problem,” Sam announced, voice low, as soon as they sat down. He quickly explained what they’d overheard from the hotel staff. “Might not be anything. This is an old building.”

“Yeah, when is it ever nothing,” Dean grumbled. Cas was just poking at his waffle, still looking a little to pale and shaken for Dean’s liking.

“We have to do something,” Cas replied, leaning forward. “What’s the plan?”

“The plan,” Dean announced, pointing his fork at Cas, “is for you to stay in the room and rest while we talk to the staff.”

“Dean, I can help.”

Dean glared at him, but Cas stared back defiantly. He’d barely gotten three hours of sleep, was in too much pain to walk more than a half dozen feet, and was clearly holding himself together with a mixture of stubbornness and caffeine (that Dean had to block Sam from taking away. He had a promise to keep, after all).

“Look, it can’t be too serious, right?” Sam interjected. “Not if we didn’t pick it up in our research. Something recent, so not as strong as an old haunting.”

“Yeah. Kind of thing we can do in our sleep,” Dean agreed, still looking at Cas.

Sam tugged on his arm, forcing him to break eye contact. “This has to happen sometime, Dean.”

No, it really didn’t. No matter how much Cas had talked about wanting to help them, to be a hunter, Dean’s ultimate plan was to keep him tucked away where he couldn’t get hurt again.

But that wasn’t fair to Cas, was it? If he tried to control Cas’s life like that, even for his own safety, he’d be no better than the ones who had hurt him so many times.

“Dean.” Cas took his hand and Dean looked back at him.

He swallowed. “I don’t want you to get hurt, Cas.”

Cas smiled at him sadly. He couldn’t stop Cas from getting hurt. Even if they ran away now, just the two of them. Retiring to a house on the beach with nothing but sun, sand, and suf. Even then, Cas would still be hurting.

“All right,” Dean’s shoulders slumped and he leaned forward, still holding Cas’s hand. “So what’s the plan?”

(Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5)

#whumptober2022 #no. 8 #everything hurts and i want to die #supernatural #fic #chronic pain #chronic illness #disability #internalized ableism #castiel #eileen leahy #dean winchester #sam winchester #saileen #destiel #the flare 'verse #angst #hurt/comfort

[book-of-baba-fett]

For your AMA, I was wondering how you created the characters of Talia and Storm and how you made sure that they have these distinct, fleshed out personalities? Did you use any character sheets? Did they change at all as you wrote the story?

Congratulations on finishing!! Can’t wait to read it (and cry a lot probably)!!

Illicit Affairs Ask Me Anything

Thank you so much anon!!! And ngl, if no one cries I think I might have failed a bit as a writer tbh LOL. (jk I don't WANT you to cry but tissues should be at the ready).

So I have mentioned that Talia started a bit as a reader/blank character but her personality just came out a lot while writing. When I was brainstorming a lot of it was thinking about what kind of partner would Rex be attracted to/pair with, which helped me craft a basic character. With that i knew she had to be a loyal character, with strong morals, but I also added her wit as a good way to tease and play against him. Then I had to think about how I wanted her to fit into the world as it was; how was she as a Jedi, especially compared to other Jedi of the time? I literaly charted out how I felt she would be in terms of her own power, and came up with Ventress as being a good comp to set her with. And of course her paralells with Anakin fell in naturally, and created a lot of her internal conflict. I also pulled a lot from other female characters in media who inspired parts of her; a few of these include Mulan, Eowyn, Elizabeth Swann, Buffy Summers, and Sansa Stark to name a few. I always tried to write character sheets, but I struggled with what to fit in but now i'm playing DND for the first time and that's helped me with filling out sheets so I might have one! And mostly Talia's background changed - I had toyed around witht he idea of her being a Mandalorian Jedi, because I love that juxtaposition but I was playing Kotor 2 while brainstorming the fic and something about Nar Shaddaa stuck with me and it rotted in my brain to being Talia's story, and another way she paralled with Anakin.

For Storm, I had seen so many incredible clone ocs on this website that he was a bit daunting to me, but it was important to have a strong captain at Talia's side. I've written a variety of personalities in clones, but I liked the idea of his more stoicism and the fact that he was a bit harder to see at first glance. Also he isn't in the story much, but he plays an important part when he does, and I wanted to kind of have him being that strong, trustworthy figure. Like the good friend you know you can always call on. But he's also professional, keeping a fine line between his duty and his personal life. Storm wasn't finely defined until later in the fic, but I always knew his role and hope to have more side stories of him.

#ia ama #ia fanfic

[dalleyan]

Elfwine Chronicles (new LoTR stories, Adventures of Theodred, Son of Eomer, ch 14 posted, 6-10-23)

Theodred's adventures as he travels with Freahelm, trying to find a direction for his life.  (Adventure, Drama, Angst, Romance, Family, Humor) (19 chapter story)

 Chapter 14  -  (begins March, 45 IV)

“Well, at least I suppose we may assume they have resolved their differences,” Freahelm commented, biting into some toast at breakfast.

Arawine and Theodred had disappeared into Arawine’s room at the King’s House after their reunion in the street the previous day, and not been seen since.  Servants had taken them supper, but Theodred had not returned to the Steward’s house, and Freahelm was willing to bet the two had stayed up all night talking.  He had considered taking some fresh clothing to his friend, but he had known the twins too long to think Theodred wouldn’t just turn up wearing something of Arawine’s, so he didn’t bother with it.

Faramir glanced up at the comment and smiled.  “Yes, I think that much is true, and I am very pleased to see it.  Boromir and I were that close, and I know what anguish it would have brought me to be at odds with him for so long a time.”

As Freahelm excused himself from the table, Eowyn teased, “You did not eat very much.” 

The young man grinned. “Perhaps I will seek more later!”

Eowyn let out a hearty laugh, knowing full well exactly what he had in mind.  “Well, if you do, give my regards to Gimilzor and Belwen!”

Freahelm tossed off a salute of affirmation and jauntily strolled from the room to the sound of the Steward’s chuckles.  Once outside, he paused briefly to breathe deeply of the spring air, then turned eagerly toward the gate to the lower levels and a certain bakery of which he was particularly fond.

Freahelm’s assessment had been accurate – the twins had stayed up most of the night talking and clearing the air between them.  In the wee hours, they had at last fallen asleep, not to awaken until late morning, when they finally washed and ventured forth.  As it was really almost dinnertime anyway, they decided to combine both breakfast and dinner into one meal, and since Theodred was eager to introduce Arawine to Esgalmir, he suggested taking her to dinner with them.

Because he had slept in his own clothes, which were also rather stale, he borrowed something from Arawine and the two set out for the Fourth Level and Anbarad’s stationery shop. Elbragol greeted them as they entered, but knew that Theodred preferred conducting business with Esgalmir and summoned her from the back.

Whenever he was in the shop, Esgalmir always maintained a very reserved manner with him, which Theodred was careful to emulate, so he couched the invitation to dinner in formal terms.  “Lady Esgalmir, as our business yesterday was interrupted by the arrival of my nephew, I was wondering if you might be available to discuss matters further over dinner today?  I will be leaving the city to travel to Edoras soon, so I am rather short on time.”

She paused ever so slightly, then nodded.  “Of course, my lord.  Reaching behind the counter for a tablet of paper and pencil, she moved to get her cloak, though Theodred hastened to assist her with it, and offered his arm as they made their way to the door which Arawine was holding.  Glancing back, Esgalmir said, “Elbragol, I may be a little longer than usual over dinner, depending on how much time our business takes to conclude.”

 continue reading on AO3:

              https://archiveofourown.org/works/46771651/chapters/120469990

#Eomer #Lothiriel #Lord of the Rings #elfwine chronicles #LOTR #Theodred son of Eomer #Freahelm son of Eothain #original characters

[shiinata-library]

MPL: Oh, maybe you need smut ;)

Bilbo

You got attacked by an Orc but Bilbo saves your life and lets you stay in his house by Animekath

Bilbo spends his evenings drinking at The Green Dragon Inn and you end to drink with him, by BlackWingsofLucifer

Dating with Bilbo would include (fluff & smut) @tolkien-fantasy ​

Kíli 

Kíli's first time with you @luna-xial

Jealous Kíli wants you now @laurfilijames

You were forced to share your room with Kíli even though you hate him (Sub!Kíli x Dom!Fem!Reader) @rottencherrypie

Kíli not satisfying you in bed and you hesitate telling him because you don’t want to hurt his feelings, by ohmygodwhy316

Kíli tried to be romantic, but it took you to show him how it was really done, by Cumbersmaug

Once you teased Kíli, you can't stop him @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

You share a sack with Kíli when the trolls caught you @averil-of-fairlea

You're just friend with Kíli (wink) @luna-xial​

Thorin

Thorin is jealous @ipostsmut

Thorin teaching you Khuzdul @ipostsmut

You caught Thorin masturbating @laurfilijames

You like being dominated by Thorin @fizzyxcustard

As Thorin’s assistant, you try to wake him up but he don’t want to, by @technoelfie

Thorin is tied up and you take the opportunity, by Cumbersmaug

Truth or Dare game with Thorin @immawriteyouthings

Thorin teaches you to play harp @legolaslovely

You're an apprentice blacksmith and Thorin starts to work with you @darthglitterfanfiction

Sleeping alone in your bedroom, you’re cold, but Thorin will soon warm you by kaeorin

Thorin waits you ready before sharing a bed with you @imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul

Fíli ​

Go with Fíli to a feast or stay with him in your chamber @laurfilijames​

Fíli needs your help for a pressing matter of greatest importance to the realm @lathalea​

Fíli makes a move after watching you every night you worked in a bar @legolaslovely​

It's Fíli's birthday and you went to his bedroom to drop his present on his desk @blairsanne​

Fíli meets a childhood friend at a ball and spends a long night with her by kaeorin

Fíli loves when you play with his knives @ichoosechoasandbeingqueer

Several / other characters at the same post

Kíli / Fíli caughts you masturbating @laurfilijames

You caught Kíli / Fíli masturbating @laurfilijames

Sneaking around in the dark with Kíli / Fíli @laurfilijames

Pegging with Bilbo / Thorin / Kíli / Fíli / Thranduil / Dwalin / Bofur @tolkien-fantasy​

You're Thorin's sister and you secretly date Dwalin @jjamjamm

Several character at the same time

Dating Bilbo and Thorin (fluff & smut) @tolkien-fantasy

Kíli wants you even if the company is sleeping around you --- Thorin heards you --- and Fíli too @ipostsmut

Your weeding night with Kíli & Fíli, by Ixthalia

Lord of the Rings

Eowyn comes to the Shire to see Merry by Citron_Swiftvale

The Rings of power

If Elendil comes to the Hall of Lore, it’s not only for the seas’ map @catyo90

< Return to the Table of content

#the hobbit fanfiction #fanfic #my personal library #fili #kili #Smut #thorin #bilbo #bilbo baggins #dwalin #rop #lotr

[lilyofthesword-writes]

Continue - Part 5

Summary: You have been ripped away from your world and tossed into one that is supposed to be pure fiction. You know the stories, how they are supposed to go. Despite your knowledge, you are unable to change the fates of the Fellowship you had grown so close to.

Pairing: Legolas x Modern!Reader

Word Count: 1,522

Warnings/Disclaimers: Other than the curse coming into play, none.

A/N: This was a long time coming. Had to figure out how I wanted to go with this part. It only came to me five minutes before a meeting at work. Needless to say, there are some near indecipherable notes on the scrap paper I found. Hope you all like it!

Masterlist

Hugging your arms, you watched Legolas join the others at the front gate. By this point, Gandalf had finally shown up, boldly waiting rather impatiently. When it did open, horses had been gathered just outside the gate, all adorned in their own armor and awaiting their riders. Legolas gifted you with one last parting look before Aragorn led the charge to the Black Gate where the final, fateful battle for Middle Earth would commence. It was an addition to the unspoken promise between you — He would return, and there was nothing in any realm that would stop him from doing so.

It was only when the front gate was closed that you turned away, the thundering hooves and steel gaits now muffled and growing silent, that you found Eowyn and Faramir not far off doing the same as you. Before you had the chance to look away and allow them their moment, Eowyn met your gaze. She was surprised but the joy in her overtook her features as she realized you were well after the last battle.

“My friend,” she called out to you with a smile as she made her way over while Faramir gently lent her support. “I did not expect to see you outside the healing houses.”

“I could say the same for you,” you playfully chided.

Something wasn’t right…

A lumped formed in your throat as she laced her arm with yours, pulling you along back up hill, Faramir in tow. “With you being up, I am surprised you did not join Aragorn and the others.”

“Yes, well,” you chuckled softly, unable to laugh like you normally would. “We came to an agreement. It was better if I stayed here.”

You tried to inconspicuously take in as deep a breath as your lungs would allow. That tight feeling was coming back. But why? It had to be your exhaustion. This was your first time out of bed since you had woken up, and your body had not yet healed. The uphill climb certainly wasn’t helping. That was it. It had to be the extra strain.

“That sounds oddly familiar,” Faramir teased Eowyn.

The youngest former Steward’s son was close behind, arms slightly outstretched as though anticipating that one of you would stumble. Eowyn turned to scowl at him, but her lips curled into a bashful smile when their eyes met, cheeks dusted pink.

Your heart skipped a beat as your chest squeezed in on itself again. Okay. Maybe you couldn’t blame it solely on your body. Then, the thought hit you like a freight train.

“Are you alright?” The blonde clutched your arm as you sucked in a breath and betrayed your own mask to conceal just how bad things really were. “You look faint…”

Faramir’s hand met your upper back when your traitorous body swayed. The ever compressing coil had found your throat.

“I think I’m just a bit tired,” you answered. Not too distant, you spotted a stone foundation jutting away from one of the buildings with just enough space for a person to sit. “I’ll take a rest over there. You two go on ahead. I’ll catch up with you later.”

You plucked yourself away from the couple and headed for the stoop.

“Are you sure?” Eowyn followed, reaching out to make sure you didn’t fall. “What if—”

“I’m alright,” you interrupted. Spinning around to placatingly take her hands, you looked both her and Faramir in the eyes. “I just need to catch my breath. I’ll be back at the healing houses in no time.”

The longer they stayed with you, the more your lungs burned like hot coals had been placed on your chest.

“If you insist,” Faramir jumped in, preventing Eowyn from arguing further.

There was a particular knowing glint in his eyes. He knew something was wrong and it was not your injuries. He didn’t truly understand, but he could feel the change. His hands found purchase on Eowyn’s shoulders, guiding her farther up the path.

She stopped him for one last word. “Please, come find me after you’ve rested,” she pleaded.

“Of course,” you promised, settling on the stone with a smile.

It was once both she and Faramir were out of sight that the curse released its hold. Your head bumped against the wall as you slumped back, finally able to fill your lungs to capacity with oxygen. You stared up the crackled stone building across from you. Your eyes followed the lush vines trailing through and around the crevices, intermingling and curling off from each other at various intervals, until you found yourself staring up at the clouds.

This part of the curse just didn’t seem fair. You hadn’t done anything… Well, nothing intentional. Would chatting with Eowyn a little longer really have caused any issues?

Darkened, thick clouds peered out from behind the rooftops, spying the wispy cotton candy clouds enjoying the bright blue sky and quickly swirling around to snuff them out.

Yeah, it probably would. This was the time for the couple to get to know each other. If you were the acting third wheel… You shook the possibilities from your head and with another deep breath, hopped to your feet. The aching and burning tightness had mostly subsided by now. Climbing uphill wouldn’t be such as much of a problem. You would just take it slow.

“Meleth?” you heard as you blearily opened your eyes.

The bed shifted and the soft warmth of the sheets was pulled up to your neck. Legolas’ fingers skimmed across your cheek to gain your attention.

“Rest well?” he asked with an exhausted breath, still managing to gift you a teasing grin.

Your clothed toes wiggled against the sheets as you sat up. When did you take your shoes off?

“I guess so…”

The last thing you could remember was plopping on the bed, passing out the moment your head hit the pillows that Legolas was now helping you rest your back against.

“You had not even removed your boots before your slumber,” he chuckled.

You couldn’t help but mirror his infectious smile. Then, you started to notice the state he was in. Dozens of stray hairs. Dirt and sweat matted to his skin. The darkening mud caked onto his armor bled into the sheets. Although there were no bags under his eyes, fatigue had seeped into his irises.

Shooting forward, you captured one of his hands. “What happened?”

Momentarily shocked by the urgency in your voice, the prince recovered quickly. He soothingly cupped your cheek, pulling you just a hair closer so he could rest his forehead on yours.

“All is well, Meleth nin. Sauron has been defeated,” Legolas answered.

“And wha—”

“Gandalf requested the aid of the eagles. Frodo and Sam have been rescued. They are on their way to Imladris now.”

“Are they alright?” you nearly choked.

His thumb soothed the worried lines of your face. “Their journey was taxing, undoubtedly as much as ours if not more. They will soon be in Lord Elrond’s care.”

That unsatisfying answer did nothing to quell the anxiety brewing in your stomach. You were fairly sure the lack of food wasn’t helping either.

“We will be leaving for Imladris the moment you are able. We all wish to see them as soon as possible,” he continued.

You finally breathed a sigh of relief. It was like he could read your mind. Then again, with how he could sense the curse, he could probably read the change in your emotional energy no matter how hard you try to hide it. That’s pretty close, right?

“Well, let’s get going then!”

The sudden surge of energy had you pull away, ready to leap from the bed. Legolas was the only obstacle. He merely laughed at your transformed demeanor and called your name, gripping your shoulders to keep you in place.

“Please,” he urged and gently led you back to rest on the pillows again. “We will leave in due time. You still need more rest.”

Air puffed out from your pouting mouth with a perturbed groan. “How am I supposed to do that knowing our friends need us?”

Legolas’ hand was back to your face, its warmth permeating the reassurance to calm your frazzled nerves.

“They will be in good hands with Lord Elrond. For now, you need to take care of yourself,” he breathed. “And I will stay by your side every step of the way.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to argue. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, he was right.

“Oh alright,” you huffed. “But. If I am to remain in bed, I need you to do something for me.”

The elf took both of your hands in his, giving them a quick squeeze. “Anything, galad nin.”

Oh. That was new…

You extracted your fingers to push away his stray, golden hairs from his face. “You need to take care of yourself, too,” you grinned.

His jaw dropped a fraction before he could pull himself together, and his shoulders shook with laughter. “Of course, Meleth. How could I be so foolish as to not follow my own advice.”

Translations: Galad nin -> My light

Tag List: @0-cries-0 @thisbreakableheaven @beakami @beautifulwar11 @bucky-is-a-gift

#legolas x reader #legolas x you #legolas imagine #legolas fanfiction #legolas fanfic #lotr #lord of the rings #lord of the rings imagine #lord of the rings fanfic #lord of the rings fanfiction #lotr imagine #lotr fanfiction #lotr fanfic #Aragorn #Gandalf #Eowyn #Faramir #Frodo #samwise gamgee #frodo baggins #samwise #Elrond

[minaturefics]

Wrong Conclusions

Faramir notices the closeness between you and Legolas, and draws the wrong conclusions.

Faramir x Reader

Gender-neutral reader

No content warnings

2.1k words

---

A cool breeze drifted in from the open window into your room, and brought with it the faint sounds of Minas Tirith below. The city was preparing for Arargorn’s coronation that was due to happen once Frodo and Sam were fully recovered. It was good to hear the city alive again, to hear the endless chatter and clopping of horses, so soon after the defeat of Sauron. A short knock sounded on your room door and you looked up from your book.

“Come in,” you called, and the solid wood door opened a fraction. Legolas popped his head in.

“Reading again?” He stepped into the room and tilted his head, peering at the cover of the book. “I did not take you as one who enjoyed poetry. And romantic poetry at that.”

You flipped the book shut and ran your fingers over the gilded title, remembering the way your fingers had brushed Faramir’s when he passed it to you, remembering the flickering firelight in his clear blue eyes. The library had been dim and silent, intimate in the alcove by the fireplace, and his voice had been low and almost tender.

“Lord Faramir lent it to me,” you muttered.

He arched his eyebrow at you. “You have been spending more time with him of late.”

“He is good company. Quiet, thoughtful. Peaceful somehow, amidst all this.” You placed the book on the bedside table next to the plain pitcher which held two stalks of red, ruffled flowers. They were a small comfort someone had arranged for your room — bright flowers to combat the lingering darkness. You turned to Legolas. “What do you seek me out for?”

“Your company. I have heard much of the gardens of Minas Tirith but have had no time to explore them before today. Will you walk with me?”

You glanced back at the small book of poetry then back at Legolas. It had been a few days since you had seen Faramir. You had wandered through the library in the evenings, hoping to run into him after his duties were completed, but you never saw him. Perhaps you would catch a glimpse of him on the walk. “Fetch my cloak in the cupboards, and I will go with you.”

When you arrived at the gardens, Legolas offered you his arm and you took it with a grin. The both of you walked on the narrow paved path, passing under shady trees and between blossoming flowers. In the dappled light, he pointed out the plants. Fragrant lavender, vivid orange anemones, tall asphodels.

“Ah!” Legolas paused and gestured to the flowers around you. “Here are the flowers in your room.” They grew in large, wide pots, like orderly shrubs. The flowers grew red, yellow, pink, orange, and white, and spilled their colours all the way around the small clearing. “Ranunculus, they are called.”

You reached out and thumbed the flowers, brushing your thumb over the thin petals. “They are beautiful. I wonder who has been arranging fresh flowers for me. Perhaps one of the ladies of the house, or the housekeeper? I suppose they do it for every room, but I should still thank them.”

“They do not do it for every room. Mine and Gimli’s do not have flowers. Neither do the hobbits and Lady Eowyn.”

“Then who has been gracing me with them?”

He tilted his head at you. “Do you really not know?”

You shook your head and looked up at your companion’s sly expression. “Tell me then.”

“Hmm, perhaps I should keep this little secret to myself. As a bargaining chip when you are being too stubborn.”

You laughed at him. “Do not tease me.”

“I must be allowed some teasing.” He chuckled. “For I have no siblings and you are the closest I have to a sibling.” His voice lowered and sobered. “For all our troubles on this quest, I am grateful for the friends I have made that have become as dear to me as kin.”

“Then be good to your chosen sibling and tell me who has been leaving me flowers.”

He leaned in close to your ear. “It has been — ”

You heard the shuffle of feet behind you and you turned. Faramir stood at the bend of the path, his jaw slack and eyes surprised. His expression was quickly schooled into one of benign neutrality, but there was a tightness in his lips that would not yield, a pain in his eyes that could not be disguised.

“Pardon me,” he said, eyes darting between you and Legolas. “I did not mean to intrude.”

“It is no intrusion, my Lord,”  Legolas said, smiling, and you withdrew your arm from where it sat resting on his. Faramir’s brows drew together slightly at the motion and his lips tightened further. Was there something troubling him? As far as you knew, there was no quarrel between the Steward and Legolas.

“In any case, I must away. I have tarried too long here on my break.” He turned to leave, and before you could call out to him, he vanished around the bend.

You blinked at the empty space where he had stood, the memory of his dismayed expression replying in your mind. Perhaps there was something you had done to upset him? Maybe you had taken too long with the poetry book and he had assumed you were displeased with his recommendation.

The rest of the garden walk was uneventful, but your thoughts were troubled by Faramir. When Legolas parted from you near the living quarters, you decided to seek out the Steward.

--

Faramir sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He was seated at his desk, staring at the papers scattered across it and the quill he abandoned to the side. He would get no more work done for the day, he knew that. After seeing you with Legolas, your arm tucked into his and him leaning in close to you, as though whispering tender words of love, he found his heart heavy.

When he had first come across you in the library with Mithrandir, his heart had stuttered in his chest and his words dried on his tongue. You were beautiful, with the late morning sun in your hair and a playful smile on your lips. That morning had been filled with discussions on literature, and when he left the library, his smile did not fade until he went to sleep. For the last few weeks he would look for you among the shelves, recommending you books or offering to help you search for what you were seeking.

He thought of the brightness in your eyes when you debated with him, the softness of your gaze when you read phrases you loved, the murmur of your voice in the hush of the library. He longed to reach out to you, to intertwine his fingers with yours, to brush his lips upon your brow.

He gathered up his papers and stacked them at the side of his desk. He wandered towards the window and looked out at the city before him, his thoughts drifting towards Legolas. He knew you were close to the elf, but how close, he did not know. At least, until today.

An ache grew in his chest, thinking about Legolas and you, standing amongst the very flowers he had delivered to your room.

Were the meetings in the library nothing more than friendly company? He thought he saw a tenderness in your eyes, and felt a warmth in your fleeting touches, but perhaps he had imagined it. He swallowed. Perhaps your heart lay with another.

He glanced down at his calloused hands. He was but a man. What was a man to a graceful elf, or a steward to a prince? It was foolish for him to hope.

Foolish of him to dream.

He moved away from the window and his eyes fell upon the book you had recently returned to him. His heart twisted. Maybe he would go to the library. If he could not have your presence and your smile, he would have the ghost of it for one more evening, and then tomorrow resolve to let you go.

--

You pushed the heavy door of the library open and stepped inside. The air was still and musty, but held the faint smell of woodsmoke. Was someone else lingering in the library this evening? Your breath quickened. Faramir, perhaps? You wandered through the shelves, running your fingers along the creased and bent spines, thinking about the last time you encountered him here. Cocooned amongst the books, warmed by the fire. When you had glanced at the title of the book your breath had caught in your chest.

A gifting of amorous words.

So why then did he flee at the sight of you? You sighed and slowed your pace. Perhaps he did not actually feel the same and was alarmed that you might have misunderstood his intentions. But then what of his fleeting glances and fond smiles? You shook your head. You needed to find him, and speak plainly, to understand. Whatever words would pass between you, kindly or no, you hoped that your friendship would smooth over any hurt feelings.

You found your way towards the nook where the fireplace was, and found Faramir standing with his back towards you, looking into the fire. You traced his figure with your eyes, roaming his broad shoulders and steady legs. How you wished to thread your fingers through his hair.

“Faramir,” you called, and he turned. “I was hoping we could speak.”

“Speak? What would you have me discuss with you?” His voice was gentle, as it always was, but his eyes were guarded and his shoulders tense.

“Have I offended you in some way? You seem distant of late, and I did not miss your expression in the gardens.”

“Offended? No,” he muttered and dropped his gaze to the floor. “If I have been distant it has been of my doing and not yours.”

You stepped closer to him, fighting the urge to reach out and lift his chin with your fingers. “Why do you seek to avoid me?”

“Do you not know?” His eyes darted to yours then away to the safety of the shelves. “If so, I will not trouble you with the knowledge of my unwanted sentiments.”

You stared at him, confused. Sentiments? For you? It made no sense to avoid you if he returned your feelings, unless he thought you felt differently. His forlorn expression from earlier in the day flashed into your mind, the way he shifted at the sight of your arm in Legolas’s.

Unless he thought that your feelings were for another.

“Legolas is but a friend. A brother.” You smiled at him and crossed the small distance between the both of you.

His eyes snapped back to yours, his brow furrowed. “Do you mean to say there are no… tender feelings between you and him?”

“No, Faramir.” You tentatively brought your hand to rest on his chest. His breaths were shallow, his heart quick under your touch.

He let out a sigh and tension melted from his body. He brought his hand up to cover yours and a smile tugged at his lips. “I was so afraid… I thought…” He shook his head. “Was the book to your liking? And… the flowers?”

“Flowers? Oh!” You grinned at him. “So it was you. Legolas was about to tell me when you came upon us in the garden.”

He chuckled. “Then I am cursing my intrusion for a different reason now. Yes, I have had flowers of my own choosing delivered to your room.”

“They are lovely, Faramir. And the book caused me to hope for you.”

He stroked your face and cupped your cheek. His voice was a whisper. “Was there ever any doubt that I loved you?”

“Perhaps, for a few moments. I have missed your presence dearly in the last few days, and your flight from the gardens did not help.”

He pressed his lips to your forehead and your lungs filled with the scent of him. Leather and wood smoke, soap and ink. “I will never flee from you again. I shall never leave your side,” he muttered into your hair.

You brought your arms around him, tugging him closer at the waist. “And never doubt my love for you. For no one has brought me more joy than you have, and no one can warm my cheeks as you can.”

He held you close, pausing for a moment, a breath, to fill you in his arms. You sighed and pressed yourself closer to him. There was peace in that moment, sheltered among the ancient tomes. Peace, and love.

#faramir #lotr #faramir x you #faramir x reader #lotr fic #faramir x y/n #lotr fanfic

[hauntedheroines]

What is your ideal villain x heroine relationship?

Well first, there are Basic Rules(TM):

Must see her as a human being, not as a pretty object, disposable or replaceable. Examples of villains that don’t do this: Jabba The Hutt and Ming the Merciless

He must be clean. He doesn’t have to be pretty, just hygienic. Grima, from LotR, is ugly, but I still ship him with Eowyn, while Jabba The Hutt is just a disgusting worm.

He is powerful and talented; has to have some sort of confidence. I can pity him, sometimes it's even better when I do (like with The Phantom of the Opera) but some stalker movies make the character so realistically obsessed because he is an insecure and repressed person. This also has to do with not seeing her as an object. Most of the time they don’t even know why they want the girl, they are just searching for any replacement for the maternal love they didn’t get. They don’t think they are special, they would just take anything to fill the gap.

He can’t be willing to watch her die. This usually ruins the ship. I mean hurt her, okay, but to kill her would mean he thinks he can live without her. And if he thinks that, he better get into a deep depression and regret afterward, or be well-aware that he has dammed himself for the rest of his life. Leôncio from Isaura The Slave Girl, Bill from Kill Bill, Jack Devlin from The Net, and Frollo from NDdP do that.

Either the heroine wins or neither of them do. The villain must not triumph at the ending, keep the girl hostage and miserable at his side. Either he is redeemed or he is ass kicked. There is no evil triumph - nor in the sense that he gets everything he wants without reforming himself into a better person, neither in the sense that the heroine is corrupted and rules as mistress of darkness by his side. The most I can accept of a good character losing is that she loved him despite it all and after rejecting him, they both perish.

The ideal villain x heroine is when they are bond by their loneliness. Most authors believe the villain is always the hero's antithesis - the classic "Two sides of the same coin".

Maybe they share trauma, neglect - people think they are strange or too erratic. Maybe the heroine's willpower is walking the line of ruthlessness. Her power inspires fear in people, even in her, but the villain admires it.

Either way, they feel there are parts of them no one else would understand. That only they could know and love. That the villain, in an curious way, challenges her to become the greatest version of herself.

They would be the perfect match in different circumstances, or if the villain wasn’t so far gone. But he has hurt too many people and to forgive that would be impossible. Maybe forgiveness is not what he seeks. Maybe he just wants to be sure she will never leave him, the only way he knows how.

She hates him, but once again he is the only one who matches her. Examples of ships that do this: Steerpike x Fuchsia, Annie x the Teacher, Alina x Darkling, Reylo, Casey x Kevin...

Other interesting premises:

They have a telepathic connection. A spell was cast on them and their hearts are connected. One can only die when the other does. They could even be born from the same womb at the same time. Like, they came to this world together; their destinies are intertwined oh no Nuada/Nuala.

They were childhood friends or met when they were younger oh my gosh I love this trope.

The heroine is socially acceptable in her sexuality, meaning she is not sexually active or she is a full-on virgin. The villain is comfortable with his own and teases her.

He never loved anyone before. EVER.

He is more invested than she is, or at least he gives in and expresses his feelings more than she does, showing her the possibilities and getting frustrated when she discards them once again. He will be willing to sacrifice everything for her while she will hesitate (Lizzie from The Blacklist) or will rather kill herself later (Lady Fuchsia Groan) than to be with the man she loves because of the moral boundaries, people who depend on her, the complete absurd of saving such a despicable person and etc.

Or else, let him be tormented. Let his feelings for her confuse and scare him. Let it be against everything he is and believes. Let her be a whore or heretic and he, a devotee. Let her be his family and he, in a position of power and prestige like a king or a millionaire, wanting the only thing he can’t have and would make him a joke to those who fear and respect him now. Let him stare at her intensely, without her knowing why, trying to kill or imprison her or send her away, only to succumb and confess his feelings. Let him be disgusted with himself for wanting her, blaming her, and then coming back on his knees for crumbs of affection from the one he has disgraced. Let his power be drained from him and delivered to the hands of whom he judged unworthy, to such an extent that he is the one to make the delivery. Let his feelings consume him to the point he doesn’t even know what he is doing anymore, things he never thought he was capable of; burning a city, destroying a kingdom, enslaving a galaxy.

BUT THE MOST IMPORTANT IS:

They defy each other. I like it better when the heroine is not naive and passive. They can fight mano-a-mano or play his mind games and schemes. Or she just has a mind of her own and won’t bend to his.

#Villain x Heroine #Darklina #Reylo #Fresme #Christine x Erik #Casey x Kevin #Sareth #Hoap #Keen2 #Fuchsia x Steerpike #James x Sarah #O'Briencest #Konstantin x Vasya #Daisy x Ram #answered