➡️Yandere LOTR various x reader
Lucky you, you go walking in the woods and now you're in middle earth. You might know the place but people are acting pretty odd, and the storyline doesn't seem to be anywhere in sight. This might be middle-earth but...
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My house stands alone on the edge of a dark and mysterious forest. The forest behind it stretches out endlessly, its trees casting long shadows across the ground, almost like they're reaching out to touch the house's walls. In the solitude of the night, I can't help but feel strangely connected to this house, as though it's an extension of me in some way. It's as if the house and I are one, existing in a world outside of the reality that surrounds us. It's almost as if the house and I are trapped in an alternate universe, existing in our bubble of solitude. But even though the outside world feels distant and detached, the memories and history of the house are woven into its very being, a testament to the lives that have come and gone within these walls."
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The soft light of a single desk lamp casts a warm circle on the dark wood surface, the only source of illumination in the otherwise dark room. The sound of scratching pen on paper is the only sound, other than the steady ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner. The pen moves quickly across the page, capturing every thought that flits through my mind. I barely notice the time passing, so engrossed in my writing. Occasionally, I pause to scratch my head, pushing a stray strand of hair out of my face with a sigh.
My gaze drifts from the page to the flickering candlelight playing across the walls of my old house. Lost in thought, I chew on the end of my pen, pondering the protagonist's next steps. "Should they follow the enchanting creature deeper into the woods, or retreat to the safety of their sanctuary? " I mull over possible plot twists, considering the impact of each decision on the story's development.
Suddenly, an idea struck me-one that could change everything. Eyes brightening, I hastily return to the page, scribbling furiously as the new direction unfolds. "Ah, perfect!" I exclaim aloud, my enthusiasm spilling over.
"The creature leads the protagonist to an ancient tree, its trunk twisted and gnarled with age, and reveals a hidden door..." I continue crafting my story, my hands moving effortlessly, bringing life to the enchanted forest and its inhabitants, as the grandfather clock continues its steady march into the night.
