#arwen makes gifs

[benoitblanc]

THE GOOD PLACE (2016-2020)

THE ETERNAL SHRIEK (1.07) | WHENEVER YOU'RE READY (4.13)

[telumendils]

My friends... You bow to no one.

The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (2003)

[djarintreble]

Dad Eddie where daughter starts giving people at school the finger because she’s seen her dad do it

anon, so I totally went all out on this one. bringing an unexpected cameo haha than you for this request! I hope this is what you wanted! xx

pairing: dad!Eddie Munson x wife!reader tags: part of my dad!Eddie series, this takes place 1997, Arwen Munson getting in trouble at school, no mention of baby brother but he's alive and probably at daycare (Steve), we're in the principals office oh no, Eddie standing up for his daughter, not so nice teachers, typical Eddie and Arwen behavior, we are fully supportive. word count: 1.7k oops a/n: I have more requests incoming :)

When you swung open the school’s front door, the smells of childhood filled your senses. Did every elementary school smell the same way? Was that a good thing? Whatever the case, the smells of crayons, cleaning supplies and germs was not how you envisioned your morning. 

Your boss was annoyed at your sudden need to leave work at the demand of Arwen’s principal. His tone only meant she had done bad and a parent conference was due. Eddie was on his way from work to meet you as well and together you would both tackle your first (and hopefully last) time sitting in an office due to your daughter's behavior. 

“Hi,” You attempted a smile at the receptionist. “I am here for a meeting with the Principal? I’m Arwen Munson’s mom.” 

“Ah yes, wait right here.” The woman led you to a row of chairs and you waited patiently.

Arwen was a good kid. She would never do anything maliciously. It was inconvenient that they didn’t explain the reason over the phone, making the dramatics of having you come in. Arwen was in 3rd grade, she was raised to use her words and to be respectful. There was no way she got into a fight or bullied someone. There was no way she’d find herself in those situations. And if she did… You prayed it didn’t come to that. 

You couldn’t help but feel that you were in trouble. In middle school, you only had to come to the principal’s office once because of a miscommunication.  Eddie always teases you for your good record and how you’d never do anything bad. In high school, he’d call you adorable for it. 

The other side of you were nervous for how this would look as Arwen is the daughter of Eddie Munson. What if she really didn’t do anything wrong but because of her dad, the veteran teachers who once taught her dad are now treating her like they wish they did him. That was unfair. Especially since Eddie was a kid who acted out as a mask. A defense for how he really viewed himself. If only these schools recognized that earlier instead of showing him he wasn’t worth two cents. 

The front doors barged open and you heard “I’m here! I’m here! Sorry I’m late. Was stuck under a car for 3 hours.”

“And you are?” The secretary asked nonchalantly. Close to the way the secretary at Hawkins High would sound when she heard a younger Munson run in tardy. 

“Oh-” You could hear the surprise in your husband’s voice. “Right, Eddie Munson. Father of Arwen Munson.” 

“Your wife is around the corner, you can wait for Arwen and Principal Jenkins there.” 

Your husband wrapped around the corner and gave you a smirk when he saw you. He threw a red and black flannel over his work shirt and jeans. A few rings helped make him look more put together and not as if he just came from the repair shop. 

“Well well well, I’m getting flashbacks.” He said as he slumped down into the chair next to you. “How are you?” He asked, leaning over to give you a quick kiss as a greeting. 

“I was doing good until I got this call.”

“It’s probably nothing.” Eddie reassured.

“If it was nothing, we wouldn’t get called up here. I’m just scared how this will affect her school life from now on.”

“I highly doubt it will, sweetheart. Besides, we don’t know what she did. Maybe this is a good thing! Maybe she got an award!” As he gave your lap a quick pat, you sighed.

“Maybe. Just the tone they gave makes me scared she's in trouble.”

“Mom?” You heard your daughter ask across the office. She stood there with her lunch bag which showed she was pulled from the cafeteria. Her hair was fashioned into a high ponytail after seeing DJ from Full House wear it that way. Her overalls unclasped from one side revealing an old faded band t-shirt that has shrunken from Eddie’s collection. When you locked eyes, she immediately looked away embarrassed of whatever she did.

“Hey, sweet girl.” You smiled. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Munson?” You heard someone call from behind you. Principal Jenkins was standing outside her door with a slight smile. 

“That’s us.” Eddie responded. 

“Come on in.” She walked into her room, inviting you to come inside. Arwen ran over and gave you and Eddie a quick hug before going inside with you. “Please sit.” 

The three of you sat in the chairs lined up on the other side of her desk. Arwen sitting between you and Eddie. You rubbed Arwen's back consolingly before facing the principal. 

“Thank you for coming on such short notice.” She started. Another set of smiles were sent her way despite you both being annoyed you had to leave work. “I wanted to start off by saying I am very proud of Arwen’s academics. She has complete excellence in all her studies and her special area classes. I wanted to ask if she would be considered for our gifted program.” 

Relief ran over you as the good news was delivered. You looked over at Eddie who showed nothing but a proud face. He gently shook your daughter’s shoulders. 

“That’s my girl! Yes, that would be amazing.” You noticed Arwen’s lack of enthusiasm and patted her leg.

“Is that something you’d want to do?” You asked. 

“There is one thing though.” The principal started. 

Oh no.

“It seems this morning Arwen decided to effect that perfect citizenship grade by an act of throwing a middle finger at her substitute teacher as well as some of her students.” 

“What?” you asked, baffled.

“I bring this up as a concern because that would affect the final process of the gifted program application. Her homeroom teacher must approve that she is capable of maintaining good citizenship when brought into the gifted classes.” The principal didn’t seem too happy. 

“Arwen, baby, why did you do that?” Disappointment settled in as your daughter sat quietly, kicking her feet slightly under her chair. 

“Sweetheart, you know that’s not appropriate to do.” Eddie added, yet his face seemed more worried. 

“I didn’t mean to. I just got really mad.” She admitted. 

“What happened?” You asked. 

“Mrs. O’Donnell saw my last name and asked if you were my dad.” She looked toward Eddie. The name rang the bell as your old English teacher from Hawkins High. Guess her retirement meant coming to torment 8 year olds. “I said yes and she said she hopes I don’t turn out like you. That she didn’t like the Munson kids. So I just did it.” Eddie sighed, knowing she didn’t know of the things he went through in school. Including the time he gave Hawkins high Principal and Mrs. O'Donnell the bird as he got his diploma...

Sure she knew he was a bit of a troublemaker but you didn’t tell her specifics. That was unfair of O’Donnell to say that to her but not okay to respond that way, especially with her presumption of Eddie’s children. 

“Yes, we are taking care of Mrs. O’Donnell’s behavior but it was not okay to do that on Arwen’s part especially toward her fellow students.” 

“They were laughing at me instead of standing up for me!” She exclaimed. 

“I can’t take away the mark on her citizenship for that as it is still behavior we do not allow.” The principal added.

“How does that affect her ability to do the gifted program?” You asked. 

“Her homeroom teacher has to approve that she is able to show good conduct in difficult situations.” 

“I promise, this was a one time thing.” Eddie reassured.

“I do hope so, Mr. Munson. I’m only concerned about how she has learned that behavior.” Her tone showed a hint of judgment. 

Your eyes widened, knowing this was a trigger for Eddie. 

“My daughter is nothing like me. She is more than I could ever be. I will not tolerate teachers having assumptions of her due to the mistakes I made when I was in school. This gifted program is an amazing opportunity for her and I don’t want that to be affected by anything other than her own accomplishments. We will make sure she does nothing like that again. But she deserves this.” 

You’ve never heard Eddie like that before. Prompted by his own past and his defense for your daughter, he truly has shown his growth. You didn’t think you could love him anymore but here you were, smiling wide at him as he stood up for your daughter. 

“Thanks, dad.” Arwen smiled. 

“We will put it into consideration, thank you for coming in.” Principal Jenkins was lost for words. The three of you stood up and left the office. 

“How do you feel about getting checked out and getting some dessert?” Eddie asked Arwen, giving her shoulders a tight squeeze as he led her to the front of the school. 

“Eddie…” You whispered.

“It’s okay I need to talk to her about a few things.” You simply nodded, trusting his judgment. “Go grab you stuff from your class, I’ll be checking you out.” 

“Okay!” Arwen smiled and ventured toward her class.

You and Eddie walked back toward the front where the secretary you greeted earlier sat.

“Hi, we’re going to check out Arwen Munson for the day.” 

“Alright, her class is at a special area class so she will be brought up with her teacher. Wait right here.”

Eddie put his arm around you and you wrapped yours around his waist in response.

“Are you okay?” You asked. 

“I’m doing great.” He responded. 

“Mr. Munson.” You heard. Turning around, you saw Arwen being brought to the front by Mrs. O’Donnell. This is why he checked her out…

“Ah Mrs. O’Donnell. Missed me so much you came out of retirement to see my daughter.” 

“Eddie!” You lightly smacked his back. 

“Yes, she is wonderful.” Mrs. O’Donnell deadpanned.

“Oh and thank you for those kind words you said today about me. Always a pleasure knowing you think so highly of me. Have a good one.” He said as Arwen walked toward the two of you. He wrapped her around and led the both of you out of the school.

“But she didn’t, dad.” She looked up at your husband.

“I know,” he said as he shut the door. “and so does she.” He said before quickly flipping off the school and running to his car laughing with Arwen.

So that’s where she learned it from… 

Looks like you had to be the one to get onto the both of them but you couldn’t help but be proud of the way they defended each other. 

--------

thanks for reading!!

more dad!Eddie can be found here -> Dad!Eddie Series Masterlist

series taglist: @geekmom3 @ruinedbythehobbit @dark-academia-slut

honorable tags I think would enjoy this story based on previous interaction (I love your comments on the last stories so hi ily): @aesthetic-lyssa @yodelingtea @wintermunsonreads @lovelyladymayyy @

eddie munson taglist thread: @catpjimin @senthiasworld @foxsmvlder @a-lil-pr1ncess @cryuki-patootie

[troiings]

More of MyAnna Buring in The Fall: Skydive Murder Plot

[borom1r]

150x150 trans lesbian Arwen/Éowyn pride icons 🏳️‍⚧️

(trans lesbian flag)

[merlinemrys]

in the morning / separate the two of us / living legend / missing half of me / myth calls me legend / in the morning (again)

six… SIX separate instances in FIVE fics where i write an arwen hand kiss… i can literally only offer my followers the same meagre trick fr

[attroxx]

❛ @goldcnpeaks said . . . [ EAR ] ; the sender bites the receiver’s earlobe. (From Luka, for Arwen uvu ) ❜

𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙎𝙄𝙂𝙃𝙏 𝙊𝙁 𝙇𝙐𝙆𝘼 𝙄𝙉 𝙃𝙀𝙍 𝙍𝙊𝙊𝙈 𝙄𝙎 𝘾𝙊𝙈𝙄𝘾𝘼𝙇. granted, most people who entered her room clashed. the color pink looks as though it's grown it's sentience and taken over her room. arwen enjoys the sight, luka awkwardly sitting at the edge of her ' hello kitty ' bed. adorable. the wolf can't remember the last time she had a man in her apartment, let alone her room. maybe it was pity or boredom but either way she had invited him and here he sits. rgb lights glow from her monitor, arwen's gaming set up the envy of any girl who looks upon it. she'd promised to show it to him and even he seems at least a little impressed. smirk tugging her lips she bends down and turns it on, letting the pc boot up.

❛ i don't just play cutesy games either !! i know that's what people think . . . ❜ sitting down she moves her mouse around, clicking the LoL icon on the screen. the bane of her existence but goddamn she cannot let it go. by this point luka has stood from the bed but the wolf is none the wiser, wanting to show him her set up. the whirring of her pc breaks up the silence and arwen is thankful for it.

❛ i usually main j - ❜ teeth against her skin stop her mid sentence. but not just anywhere . . . her ear. arwen's body freezes, cheeks stained as she very slowly comes to the realization that luka is nibbling her ear. arwen squirms in her seat, head spinning so fast she is shocked her neck doesn't snap. ❛ h - hey !! i was trying to show you . . . something !! so, k - keep it in your pants okay ?! ❜ what the hell is is deal ? did he even see her that way ? sure they had gotten a little closer but . . . why are men so confusing ?

spicy action . . . accepting.

[benoitblanc]

msr + textposts, pt. 5

[princessofgondor]

the lord of the rings characters + cuddling with them 🩷

Characters Included: Boromir, Faramir, Aragorn, Arwen, Éowyn, Éomer, Legolas, Frodo, Sam, Pippin, Merry

I decided I wanted to try doing some LOTR preferences! This is my first time writing for all of these characters besides Boromir so I’m still getting a handle on them. If anyone has any requests for preference posts they’d like to see, please send them my way and I’ll see what I can do!!

Author has only seen the movies, so please forgive any mistakes/inaccuracies!

Boromir is definitely pretty touch-starved, and after cuddling with you for the first time he’s very surprised how much he loves it. It becomes a common occurrence for the two of you, something he looks forward to — especially after a long day of training with his soldiers. He loves being the big spoon, and burying his face in your hair or your neck.

Faramir is a big cuddler for sure. You don’t even need to ask — as soon as you rest your head on his shoulder (when you’re sitting together) or on his chest (when you’re laying down together), he’s got his arms wrapped around you, holding you close. He gives you a lot of forehead kisses when you’re cuddling together.

Aragorn loves the moments where the two of you can just relax together, especially when things are getting stressful. He’s happy for the two of you to simply lay there in silence, holding each other, but if you need to talk about anything he’s always ready to listen.

Arwen has an incredibly calming presence, and cuddling with her can improve your mood no matter how bad you were feeling beforehand. She holds you close, whispering comforting words in your ear and pressing gentle kisses to your face and lips every so often.

Éowyn isn’t used to cuddling, but like Boromir she comes to really enjoy it. You make her feel peaceful and happy in a way that she’s never experienced before, and so she loves to be close to you as often as possible. She has a tendency to play with your hair, and she likes it when you do the same to her.

At first, Éomer tries to look tough and doesn’t admit how much he likes cuddling with you. But each time, it becomes increasingly obvious how much he loves it. Similar to Éowyn, he likes it when you play with his hair.

Legolas finds it adorable how much you love to cuddle with him, especially when you get cold. As an Elf he can’t feel the cold, but he can always tell that the temperature is dropping when you cuddle up to him. He’s perfectly happy to stay bundled up with you for as long as you need him there.

Frodo loves when the two of you cuddle up while reading a book together, though sometimes he gets distracted from the words on the page because he’s looking at you. If this is after the main events of LOTR, I could see your presence/touch being able to help Frodo heal from his traumatic experiences, at least somewhat.

Sam is incredibly affectionate, so he definitely loves cuddling. He’s a bit shy about it at first, getting a bit embarrassed and not knowing what he should be doing — like where should his arms/hands be? He doesn’t want to upset you or make you uncomfortable — but once he’s used to it, it’s his favourite thing in the world.

Pippin absolutely loves cuddling with you and he doesn’t care who knows it. Honestly, if he could spend his entire life cuddled up with you and some snacks then he’d be the happiest Hobbit who ever lived. It doesn’t matter where you are, if you’re near each other he’ll want to either have his arms around you or be resting against you.

I think that like Pippin, Merry loves cuddling, but he’s a little less likely to do it publicly. When it’s just the two of you however he loves nothing more than being close to you. He probably makes little jokes and lightly teases you for being so eager to cuddle with him, but it’s all very light-hearted and you know that he loves it too.

[troiings]

MyAnna Buring as Victoria Cilliers (The Fall: Skydive Murder Plot)

[sneakyboymerlin]

Arwen/Merwaine Parallels 4/?

“I just wanted to make sure you’re alright.” // “I thought I’d come and see how you were.”

[himegureisu]

The Right Time

Summary: Elrond is away to rescue Mithrandir on Dol Guldur accompanied by Saruman and Galadriel when you find out you’re expecting.

Pairing: Elrond x Reader

Warning: Pregnancy.

A/N: I never thought I'd write another fanfic after being employed. Thank god that's not the case. Enjoy!

“No one is to tell him of my condition,” you command them, “Do not worry my husband any further,”

“My Lady, we strongly advise that you do. You will need protection,” the healer insisted, “We might be at war,”

“That’s exactly why you will keep your mouths shut regarding this matter!” you snapped, hormones and insecurity taking over, “He need not distractions of any kind. He has much to think about, and I cannot burden him with the knowledge at this time,”

Elves don’t usually bear children during times of war. Yet, here you were, three moons through of nine.

“My Lady,” Lindir addressed, one late night in your study, “Lord Elrond has accompanied Lady Galadriel to Lothlorien. They’d confronted the Dark Lord, Sauron, and she’s significantly weakened. He is expected to return once Lady Galadriel is settled.”

“Thank you, mellon nin,” you softly smile, as he bows, “Do see to your duties then rest,”

“I shall, my Lady, good evening,”

His return came a month from that missive.

Throughout the valley, the horns echoed announcing his arrival and the singular banner of Imladris could be seen from the balcony. However, you couldn’t be disturbed by the fanfare.

Your slumber on the bump out by the window is comfortable and long overdue. They noticed your waning appetite and exhaustion. Your courtiers worried and hovered, observing from afar in your wait for his homecoming, reluctant to disrupt your rest.

Your absence at the morning reception didn’t go unnoticed.

His grey eyes scanned the crowd in hopes of finding the warmth of your smile after the darkness they fought. Yet, you weren’t there. His good friend, Lindir, answered his unspoken question.

“The Lady of Imladris slumbers in your shared chambers, my Lord,” he stated, eyes twinkling as his Lord turned, “She’s been lethargic and despondent as of late,”

“Is she ill?” they walk in stride toward the private residence as Lindir answers, “We didn’t ask and she didn’t approach the healers. We believe it is simply a case of missing you. This has been the longest you’ve been away for centuries.”

In thought, he hums and enters the master’s bedroom in silence. Your rooms were in disorder, pillows, and sheets rumpled, a testament to how you tossed and turned in vain. His gaze follows the thick duvet where you sleep.

No wonder you weren’t at the reception.

There were dark shadows beneath your eyes, and a glow on your pale skin. Yet, once in his arms, your body is heavier than it should be. Did a month away truly make that much of a difference?

In the short walk from the window to the bed, the flutter he heard weeks before has turned to a strong heartbeat nestled beneath yours. The small warm spark of life gently reached out and received a very vibrant response from its’ father.

“Elrond,” you murmured, as he laid you down on the bed and briefly pulled away, slowly coming to, “Elrond, don’t go,”

“I’ll tuck you in,” he whispered, placing a reverent kiss on your forehead, placating you for a moment as he indeed tucked you in and then joined, his arms around you in a tight embrace, “Meleth nin, Henig,”

“You know,” you turned, as he pressed his ear on your chest, “I suspected but this time I can hear your heartbeats,”

“I find yours comforting then I heard the flutter before I left,” he breathed out, as you asked, “Are you not mad?”

“Is there any reason to be anything but happy?” you didn’t answer as he called, “Meleth nin?”

“It is not the right time to have a child,” you simply answered,

“There will never be a right time. Do not worry, meleth, we will manage as we always do,”

In the afternoon, Arwen searched for her father who'd skipped lunch and discovered the pleasing sight of her father and step-mother in bed, locked in a tight but affectionate embrace.

[endless-ineffabilities]

But Daddy, I Love Him (chapter one)

Daemon Targaryen x f!reader

synopsis : the reader is a daughter of the Lord of House Arwen - ever so dutiful and mild-mannered. Slated to be the lady wife of some highborn Lord, someone who is noble and decent. Not the volatile Rogue Prince. Not Daemon Targaryen.

in this chapter : The Rogue Prince and the reader meet. Their fates entwine. A fool is made out of a Lady.

themes/warnings : Daemon being Daemon is a warning in itself, Daemon has a superiority complex, highborn!reader, House Arwen is my own creation (name inspired by lotr!)

series list : chapter one - chapter two - chapter three

word count : 2k ▪︎ masterlist

a/n : the title and the series concept inspired by the TS song ofc <3

Dutiful daughter, all my plans were laid. Tendrils tucked into a woven braid...

Your chambers. The Godswood. The library.

Every day is the same. The mornings start with your ladies in waiting helping you prepare for the day. Running your bath, carefully pressing your frocks, lacing you up in your bodice. Making sure each lock of hair is in place, the right amount of rouge dabbed against the apples of your cheeks.

You were once a perfect little girl, now a perfect little lady.

Soon a perfect little lady wife.

This is your story, already woven, already told time and time again. The same story for all ladies of your standing.

All you have to do is to be good. And so you are.

Thank the gods for the stories you read, enabling you jump into different lives. Adventures and romances you know you will never have, not truly. But you are happy to play the fool with every page turned.

The library has become your safe haven, your home within your home. Nestled high in the sprawling castle of House Arwen. Nothing can disturb you here. No one.

Or so you thought.

The very first words you hear Daemon Targaryen say to you come across as rather rude. You will find in time that he does not mean to be rude. Not all the time, that is. This is just how he is.

"I have always found that story rather dull. Amusing how you seem to be so engrossed in it, my lady."

"Excuse me, but I will you have you know - " you raise your head, taking in the visitor. Or intruder.

"Prince Daemon," you rise from your seat, offering a well-practiced curtsy. An instinctive move of obeisance for a lady like you.

He barely acknowledges your gesture, his face flat and impassive. "That book. I was forced to read it in my youth. Our Maester all but shoved it down my throat."

You immediately do not take to his approach. That book is one of the most famous tales from Old Valyria. He should know, being of Valyrian blood and all.

"I believe there is much to like about this book, my Prince."

"Such as?"

"Well, it depicts a warrior knight of Old - "

"Some warrior knight," Daemon scoffs, not even letting you finish your statement. "He gave up his powers for the love of a wench he knew for just a fortnight. He had every chance at glory but he squandered all of it away. For what?"

"For... for love?" comes your response, though you know he did not really want one.

For someone who claims to dislike this story so much, he sure knows it well.

He mindlessly taps his fingers on a nearby shelf, eyes lazily reading the titles. Drifting through the room with the unmistakeable disdain of someone who is used to having so much, the world practically by his feet, but is disinterested with it all.

You think that you could fall dead right then and Daemon wouldn't care. Wouldn't even bat an eyelash. He rolls his eyes at your mention of love, and it does not help your impression of him.

"There are only two things worthy of love in my eyes, my lady, and that is power and blood."

"Blood? Well, my prince, family is one of the most important - "

"Blood is not the same for me as it is for you. My blood carries a legacy of fire and magic, being of Old Valyria. You would not possibly understand how I hold my blood in high regard."

Oh may the gods strike him down now.

Your hands clench into fists, pressing against your skirts, but you don't have it in you to notice the unladylike gesture. All you can think of is letting him have a piece of your mind. "A family can have a flock of sheep or a horde of dragons, my prince, and it makes no difference to me. Your family is your family, your blood is your blood. But whether you choose to love them does not solely depend on blood."

It is as if he sees for you for the first time then, the moment you show that you have your own voice, and that you will not simply cater to his whims.

He turns eager to press you further, make you break, make you cave in. "What of you, my lady? What is it that you find worthy of love? Family, I presume, from your poorly formed argument? What about a lord husband?"

"I do love my family," you nod. "And when I do wed, I am sure I will love my lord husband just as dearly."

He walks closer, but does not stop in front of you as is the polite thing to do in conversation. He circles you, and you feel exposed by the way he openly takes you in. "Oh, but how will you know? You do not have a choice, do you? How can that be love?"

You do not answer right away, for the prince has just voiced one of your biggest fears. What if you do not find love in your lord husband? What sort of life would that entail? One which you have been preparing for since you entered womanhood, one you always thought you would be willing to accept. It is your duty, after all.

So you say just that. "It is my duty, and if I am able to fulfil my duty, then I am certain that will bring me happiness."

Daemon scoffs, his lips forming a self-righteous sneer. "In the story, do you then think that the warrior knight would have been better off fulfilling his duty and abandoning his love?"

"It is not the same."

"It is exactly the same."

"No," you emphasize, "because he had a choice. I do not."

He had stopped right in front of you, a bit too close for comfort, almost as if he needs to lean in to scrutinize you fully. "Love is the death of duty, my lady. Take my word for it, you would be far better off playing your role. If you truly wish to honour your family, you would not fall in love at all."

He's so close that you can feel his breath fanning your face. If you didn't know any better, you would believe that simply being so near Daemon Targaryen is the reason why your body feels like it is on fire. He gives off heat like a furnace, like a dragon.

Maybe he is a dragon. Is that not what they all say about Targaryens?

You open your mouth to take a breath, lest your throat also burns from the dry warmth, your stomach curling adding to your nerves. It prompts you to ask, "What about you, my prince? Has duty stolen every chance you have at love?"

His eyes draw downward to your lips, and his faint blonde lashes catch the light. The Rogue Prince does look otherwordly. Everything you have heard about him has been inadequate.

His violet eyes meet yours once more. "I would not bother with such frivolity. As I said, my lady, power and blood are all there is."

"Perhaps so. Perhaps true love only exists in the stories that I read."

"You are learning," he nods, and offers what might be his first genuine smile to you.

"Nevertheless," you step away from him, and carry your book back to the shelf. "I do not fault the warrior knight for choosing love over glory. I would choose as he had done, if that were a possibility."

His response is glib, but not meant to offend. "Then you are a fool, my lady."

"I wish I were a fool, my prince," you smile, lowering your gaze. "Aren't all fools happy?"

"You wish nothing more than to be mere mummer who has found happiness in love."

"If only," you say. It's surprising how easy you're finding it to engage in conversation with him. It feels like you have known him for many moons and not only for this moment.

The Rogue Prince, of all people. Which begs the question, what is he doing in the library of House Arwen?

"Pardon me, my prince, but why have you graced us with your presence this morning?"

He turns serious, almost bored, that he has to acknowledge the reason for his visit. "My brother, the King, has sent me to relay an official decree to your Lord father. He is to accept the position of Master of Coin for the small council."

"He... he is?" you swallow. This would mean that you have to go with him and live in the Red Keep. This also signals that your betrothal to Tyland Lannister is afoot. Your father had recently paid a visit to Casterly Rock to arrange for your marriage to Tyland or Jason Lannister. If it is to be with Jason, you would be sent to Casterly Rock. If Tyland, your father would take the offer to be part of the small council. You are to accompany him and begin courtship with the Master of Ships.

At least it will be Tyland and not Jason.

"Yes, I am supposed to meet your Maester here in the library to deliver the royal decree," Daemon replies, the task so insignificant to him, unaware that he has just delivered news that determines the course of your life.

Not that it makes any difference. Your father has always wanted to join houses with either the Lannisters or the Baratheons. Forge a true Westerosi alliance. It seems that he will finally get his wish.

Your thinking gets the better of you, and you stand unmoving, the weight of duty suddenly feeling too much to bear.

Daemon's face scrunches in what can misconstrued be concern. But surely he isn't. He must only be uncomfortable at your sudden silence and blank expression.

"Is something the matter? Are you not pleased that your father is graced with an opportunity such as this?"

"Of course. I am sure that he would be delighted."

"You do not seem to be."

No, you aren't. While you have met Tyland Lannister before, there was never any attraction there. From your side and his. Yours would be a marriage of convenience, for the benefit of both Houses.

How I wish I was the warrior knight.

"It matters not how I feel, my prince."

There is movement by the doors, and the old Maester rushes in all out of breath.

"My prince!" He calls out immediately. "My deepest apologies that I have kept you waiting."

Daemon pays him no mind. His attention is solely on you. Conscious that the Maester observes the exchange, you clear your throat. "I shall take my leave, my prince. The Maester will see to you now."

You tilt your head and curtsy in farewell. As you pass by Daemon, your hand brushes against his, the pads of his knuckes rough against your own. The first and likely the only time your skin will come into contact with his, you strangely think with regret. Still, it catches you off guard and you feel a sensation like needles pricking all the way up your arm.

"My lady," he greets, and under his breath, making sure the Maester cannot hear, he adds, "my lady fool."

Another smile is shared between the two of you.

Love is the death of duty, he had said. Sooner rather than late, you will find out just how it rings true.

Supper with your Lord father is but another constant. You have always been grateful for it, especially since the passing of your late mother.

He is the only family you have around, with your elder sister already married off to some Lord in the Riverlands. She has already done what was expected of her, securing an alliance for House Arwen and bearing children for her Lord Husband.

The mantle has been passed on to you. It was never something to ponder over, as it is not something in your control.

Do your duty. Play your role. Pray that you never fall in love at all, Daemon said.

But might I fall in love with Tyland? Should that not be what I aim for?

"I heard that you encountered Prince Daemon this morning," your father says. "I trust that you acted accordingly as befits his station."

"Of course, father."

"Though it matters little to me how that rogue prince fares." The derision in his tone cannot be contained. Your father has never held Prince Daemon in any regard, viewing him as a waste of his titles.

"The Prince was gracious enough to exchange pleasantries with me."

Pleasantries. Never mind how he mocked your story, your family, and by extension, you.

"Careful, daughter. Prince Daemon is never loathe to chase after the nearest skirt that catches his fancy. I feel for his newly betrothed, the Lady Laena Velaryon. Far too good for him, that one."

"Daemon is betrothed?" you ask, unable to hide your surprise. Last you heard, his wife Rhea Royce passed in a tragic hunting accident. You also heard the whispers that she perished by her husband's hand.

After finally meeting him, you would not count it as an impossibility. But some part of you does not want to believe that he could be capable of something so vile.

"Yes, Prince Daemon has been betrothed once more. No doubt the most fruitful union for their Houses," your father confirms. With all this talk of betrothals, you already know what is coming, but your stomach sinks all the same when he adds, "as will be the union of House Arwen and House Lannister, dear daughter. You should consider yourself highly fortunate. I have toiled considerably to bring about your betrothal to Tyland Lannister."

"Of course, father." The words are empty, worn through, forever echoing in your ears.

Of course. I will do my duty. What is love after all, but a passing fancy, mere fiction entombed in between pages?

The red scales of the infamous Blood Wyrm glisten under the bright sunlight.

Caraxes lets off an ear-splitting screech as Daemon guides him across the skies.

"Daor tolmiot sir." The Valyrian smoothly comes from Daemon like a song. Not far now.

Not far from the seat of House Arwen in the Westerlands. His destination, for some unknown reason.

Just the seventh day after he was sent to deliver the decree, he finds himself returning once more. It is the day that your Lord father, yourself, and the rest of your envoy are set to ride for King's Landing.

And Daemon has decided to extend an offer to you, the Lady Arwen, one that might infinitely expedite your travels.

There were a myriad of justifications floating around in his head. He found out that you are betrothed to Tyland Lannister and his actions on this day would no doubt ruffle the preening lion's mane.

Anything to needlessly anger a Lannister, Daemon would enjoy.

He would revel in the pleasure of bespoiling such a prim and strait-laced Lady such as yourself. It would be like sport to him.

It must also not be forgotten that this would rouse the ire of your Lord father, who has never held any love for Daemon and vice versa.

All these reasons make complete sense to Daemon. All but one which he does not allow himself to entertain.

That he wishes to see you.

Who are you, if not just another proper wench with your honour and your faith for the Seven Gods up your arse? Daemon has much more discerning tastes, from dragonrider to tavern whore, but never one with your disposition.

You are nothing to Daemon. No one.

But that does not mean he will refrain from indulging in the pleasure of causing chaos.

The clouds part as Caraxes dips lower, revealing the outline of your meagre castle.

"Sepār ilagon konīr." Daemon refers to the inner courtyard where a line of carriages await, precious possessions being lugged onto them by footsoldiers.

Caraxes dives down with precision, his wings casting a shadow over the courtyard as he suddenly descends, leaving everyone startled.

Daemon's boots heavily crunch against the gravel as he jumps down, and he scans the wary crowd for his prize.

Soldiers rising to attention, bowing their heads to their prince. Ladies-in-waiting openly ogling him as he draws nearer. The Maester and his apprentices approaching him with rushed greetings springing from their mouths.

And then, there you are.

Standing just behind the small crowd, whispering hurriedly to your companion. You shush when you spy Daemon heading right for you.

"My prince." You perform the usual curtsy. Daemon thinks the movement does not suit you. He much preferred it when you were getting riled up at his remarks back at your library.

"My lady," he greets. "Lovely weather we are having, is it not?"

You appear confused, your eyes narrowing and nose scrunching for but a brief moment, and Daemon relishes in prompting such an unguarded expression. But it reverts back into your polished smile.

"Yes, it... it is, my prince. Forgive me, but I was not aware that we were expecting you."

No. Of course not. "Let me rephrase that. It is lovely weather for dragonriding, and I am inclined to think that you would enjoy the journey to the Red Keep."

"I am afraid I do not follow."

Daemon gets right to the point and his next words ring true, leaving no room for doubt as to his intentions. "My lady, I would like for you to ride with me."

Your posture becomes slack, and you gape at him like he has grown a second head.

"That would be inappropriate, my prince."

"No," he sneers. "It would be inappropriate if I take you for myself right there on the dragonsaddle, my lady, but I merely wish to offer a ride."

Your companion blushes profusely at his words. Apparently the image affects her so much all she can do is stare at her feet.

You, on the other hand, are unyielding. Your eyes blazing right through his own violet. A nagging voice in Daemon's mind insists that this is what he came for. Nothing else.

You finally say, "It is unbecoming of me to even entertain that notion, Prince Daemon. My Lord father and my betrothed would surely not approve."

Daemon takes a step closer, and the two of you stand nearly toe to toe. "But do you not wish it? Do you not wish to fly on dragonback? Much like the heroes in your stories I would wager."

"Those are just stories. It would be foolish of me."

Daemon laughs dryly, "My lady, is that not what you are? A lady fool who dreams of adventure and love?"

You frown when he has you cornered, your thoughts whirring in that foolish head of yours. Daemon feels the need to run his thumb over your pursed lips.

Perhaps I am the foolish one.

The Maester interrupts, breaking the impasse, nervously looking between the two of you.

"My prince," he says, "if you came to speak to the Lord Arwen, he is still in his chambers. He should be on his way down shortly."

You glance at the Maester then back to Daemon, awaiting his response, but he has none to offer.

You tilt your head disapprovingly at his outright discourtesy until he extends his hand to you. "My lady," he says with sincerity, "you shall be made a good lady wife soon enough, but today I invite you to be foolish with your prince."

It is the Maester who speaks, "My prince, the Lady Arwen must not - "

But you rudely interrupt, a newfound fire blazing in your eyes. "Is it as exhilarating as the stories say?"

"Enough to please a fool," Daemon replies.

With a smile, you fit your hand right into his, consequences be damned.

I may not write for him as often, but Daemon just might be my favourite to characterize and the most fun to weave stories with 🖤

This is a fixed miniseries, with a more or less fixed story, so it will only a three-parter.

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Halloween, 2004

pairing: no outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader (Elementary-verse)

rating: F (joel’s a flirt, but no actual smut, a good amount of early y2k nostalgia for my fellow ancient gen-z/millennials)

wc: 1k

series masterlist

October 31st, 2004

“Cutest little hobbit in the whole world.”

You couldn’t help gushing over your newborn daughter as she slept in her swing. You’d just finished carefully slipping on her first halloween costume, one that fit in with Joel’s chosen theme for the year—The Lord of the Rings. You’d decided to go as Arwen, the counterpart to Joel’s Aragorn, and had spent a pretty penny crafting the costumes from scratch. You’d always been a DIY kind of kid growing up, and even though it had been tempting to take the easier route and buy one of the cheap costumes from Party City given your newly hectic life as a mother, it felt a bit sacreligious to turn your back on your old ways.

Sarah had politely declined taking part in the family theme this year, choosing to dress up as one of the Cheetah Girls instead, but took enough pity on her pouting father to agree to dress up as Legolas for one singular picture. A picture that was never to be shown to any of her friends, as per her request.

“Oh my god,” she said, covering her mouth as she descended the staircase in her best elven getup, a white, synthetic lace front half-hazardously thrown over her freshly corn-rowed braids. “Dad’s gonna die over this.”

You laughed and nodded your agreement as you pulled out your new digital camera—one you’d splurged on for the upcoming holiday season—to snap a picture of your two girls. “Ten bucks says he cries a little.”

“Fifteen says he cries a lot,” Sarah countered as she tried her best to hide her face from the camera. “I thought we agreed on one picture.”

“One family picture,” you corrected with a smirk. “Are you sure you don’t wanna come trick-or-treating?”

She gave you a deadpan and pretended to gag, earning an eye roll from you. “God no. Besides, Jessie and I are working at the library’s haunted house. But save me some candy.”

“Luckily for you, Iris doesn’t have teeth yet, so it’s all yours,” you said. “But can’t promise she won’t put up a fight in a couple years.”

“Yeah, well I’ll have her trained by then,” she said, flickering some of her straight blonde hair over her shoulder.

Joel’s truck pulled into the driveway shortly after Iris woke up from her nap, you and Sarah cozied up with her on the sofa as you watched Hocus Pocus on Disney Channel—your pick, not Sarah’s. When Joel stepped through the front door, he was met with the sight of two elves and a tiny hobbit sprawled out on the sectional, a bowl of popcorn in his eldest daughter’s lap and a bag of candy in his wife’s. His grin was glorious.

“Have I died and gone to Middle Earth?” Joel said, shaking his head as he walked over to Sarah, kissing the top of her head before doing the same to you and then finally, his newest baby girl. “You’re gonna make my damn heart explode, baby girl. Look at these hairy little feet.”

He rubbed her socked feet between his thumb and index fingers, chuckling at the fuzz you’d glued on.

“And you,” Joel fixed his attention on his first born, his dimple showing with how hard he was grinning. “You make an excellent Legolas, baby girl.”

“I’m taking this thing off as soon as you guys take that stupid picture,” she said, souring her face. “This wig is itchy and cheetah print is calling my name.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Joel said, rolling his eyes as he scooped Iris out of your arms. “We get it. You’re a cool teenager now, too hip for family costumes.”

“You guys could’ve been Cheetah Girls, too,” she said. “I would’ve been on board, then.”

“I don’t think your dad could pull off cheetah print, babe,” you said, standing up and setting your bag of candy on the coffee table. You didn’t miss Joel’s eyes appreciatively scanning over your costume, a devious glint in his eyes. “Come on, papa. You have a costume to get into.”

Joel shot you a wink before handing Iris over to Sarah, mumbling a promise that the two of you would be right back. A promise that you doubted he’d keep given the look in his eyes.

You hardly made it to the privacy of your bedroom before Joel hand his hands on you, tugging you close to his body as he placed a few greedy kisses to your lips.

“You’re keepin’ that on tonight,” he said, nipping at your chin.

“Long as you keep yours on, too,” you purred, gently scratching at his scalp as you melted into him. “My king.”

Joel groaned, swatting your ass through your dress. “I’m gonna have you kneelin’ for me later, that’s for damn sure.”

You giggled, swatting at his chest as you pulled away to grab his costume from the closet, setting each piece on the bed—wig, included.

“I ain’t wearin’ that,” he chuckled, but all it took was one pout from you to change his mind. “Fuck me, fine. But the second that thing starts to itch, it’s comin’ off.”

Once he’d gotten his costume on and took a good look at himself in the bathroom mirror, he sighed.

“Yeah, you’re definitely gonna be on your knees tonight for makin’ me wear this fuckin’ wig,” he grumbled, though you were too amused to care. “How do I look? Royal?”

“You look good with longer hair,” you mused, playing with the wavy ends of his wig. “You should grow it out one day.”

He scoffed. “Maybe one day when I’m old and my devilishly handsome looks have gone to shit.”

“I don’t know,” you said, biting your lip as you gave him a once over. “I’m pretty sure you’re gonna be devilishly handsome to the day you die, Miller.”

“Good thing my wife’s a ten, then,” he said, leaning in to brush a kiss against your lips. “Wouldn’t want to outshine, ya.”

You tossed your head back and laughed, earning another kiss to the base of your throat. “God, I love you.”

“Love you a thousand times more, darlin’.”

[achillesuwu]

I mean, She must have lived for many years after Arthur death (in an interview they even said ‘at the end it’s always these two [Leon & Gwen]’ implying that they will end up together) so it could still work but more in a : we used to know each other, but we had to let each other go. Who are we ? Who we used to be is long gone.

Arthur who left yesterday

Gwen who lost him decades ago,

Perceval & Leon who were at her side to see her reign

Elyan who couldn’t watch his sister grow old

Lancelot who knew Merlin’s secret but never saw the golden age

Gwaine who must feel guilty about his weakness

Merlin who saw humanity rise, fall and rise again, who is older than any of them can even dream of.

Maybe it’s my aromantic ass speaking here but I’m not so fond of the ‘I only loved you for 1500y arthur (merlin)/I only loved you my whole life arthur (Gwen). I think people deserve to move on. Anything could happens relationship-wise at that point which is way more interesting than ‘Let’s go back together because we were married/each other destiny’

"There's no reason why a Merlin Remake can't be explicitly gay! Merthur!!"

Gwen? Y'all forget the absolutely beautiful Queen Gwen? She wasn't the most beautiful woman in the world to be cast aside.

[along-the-meadow-path]

Peter Jackson: “There is actually footage that we shot, that has a young Aragorn and Arwen frolicking together in the woods, but no one's ever seen it and I don't think it's going to make it into any movie, any DVD. Viggo shaved his stubble off and he's clean-shaven and he's supposed to be young and the two of them are bounding around the trees together” Phillipa Boyens: “Well it's shooting the moment he first saw her” Peter Jackson: “Yeah maybe in the 50th anniversary box set we can put it in somewhere” (x)

~ 

Viggo Mortensen: “There was a scene that we shot as a sort of memory flashback.  It was from the courtship days when he first met Arwen – and we shot it just before we were taking a break so I was clean-shaven and prettied up. They’d tried to make me look as young as possible. I had different hair and I was dressed like an elf. It was a scene from the book where they’re walking in this flowery meadow. It was a beautiful sequence but obviously it wasn’t needed for the movie.” (x)

~

Viggo Mortensen: “For example, we shot a sequence, Liv Tyler and I, and it’s in Lorien, and we’re walking around, and it’s when I’m still…you know, I’m wearing clothes that are more like something you’d see Legolas wearing. I have no beard. I have really long hair, and it’s partly in a braid. And, I’m wearing definitely elvish kind of clothing. I look like some young elvish lord. And, I think, I’m barefoot, walking in these flowers with her. And, we’re in that courtship period, you know, and because of our aging thing, we look similar. I look a little younger than usual, the no beard helps and all that. And, it’s a memory, right, and it was meant to be used as one of those moments where I’m remembering something about her.” (x)

Lord of the Rings + Unreleased Scenes