A/N: This is fresh (okay, with some modification) from the Terrible Teen Paranormal Romance Story Generator! I could think of no one better to insert than "everyone's favorite Noldorin psycho", as so wonderfully put by Erwen Brogiel in her story "Daybreak in Valinor", which, by the way, is HILARIOUS. No, Elanor is not meant to be Sam and Rosie's daughter; it was the most LOTR-like normal name I could think of.

I always imagine Fëanor yelling and banging a frying pan during his Big Speech (inspired by the deviation entitled "Father and Son" by eilan).

Terrible Teen Paranormal Romance Story

Elanor knew Fëanor was different from the other boys at school.

She noticed it the very first time she laid eyes on him - there was something about the way he skillfully sparkled his ear when he canoodled. Also, he seemed to have an unusual knowledge about ancient history. And just last Tuesday after ethics, she saw him set fire to all the Calculus tests, hack the system, and give himself an A and everyone else F's.

There was something else she knew: she was in love with him. But she didn't know how to win his affections, for he was always cold and distant.

One night, Elanor was reading the Noldolantë about paranormal creatures when she realized the truth: Fëanor was a manaical, Silmaril-crazed Kinslaying Noldorin Elf!

The next day after class, Elanor saw Fëanor head off into his workshop. ''It's now or never,'' she told herself with resignation, and zoomed after him.

When she caught up to him, he was standing behind Telperion, gazing obsessively into its shiny silmë (light).

''Fëanor, it's me, Elanor. I... I have to tell you something... I love you!''

He sighed deeply and swaggered toward her. ''Oh, Elanor, there are things you don't understand about me.''

''I know more than you think,'' she breathed. ''I know that you're a manaical, Silmaril-crazed Kinslaying Noldorin Elf.''

''It's more complicated than that,'' he said, staring transfixed into her shiny eyes. ''Love between your kind and mine is forbidden. They would destroy us both if they knew.''

''I don't care,'' Elanor said. ''I could never live without you.''

''Really?''

''Truly,'' she answered.
He reached up and gently caressed her hand in his sparkly hands. ''I love you, too,'' he whispered.
And then he kissed her. His kisses were like singed marshmallow-scented big, fluffy pillows upon her lips.

The days and weeks that followed were firey. They went to the beach, roasted marshmallows, and set things on fire. It seemed that nothing could come between them.
One night while they worked on formulas for dwarf repellent, a "FËANÁRO GET BACK HERE RIGHT NOW!" was heard from outside the a maximum-security cell in the Halls of Mandos window. ''They've found us,'' Fëanor whispered solemnly.
Elanor sighed. ''At least we've had this short time together.''

''I won't let them take you from me,'' he promised.
As soon as he spoke, the enemy's leader burst through the door. ''Stand aside!'' the leader ordered Fëanor.

''Never! She is my true love, and you will not take her from me!'' Fëanor stood defiantly between Elanor and the leader.

''Then you will both die!''
The leader lunged forward, but Fëanor stood his ground. With a yodel, he met the leader head-on. In a swift move, Fëanor ripped off the leader's hair and kicked him in the toned, shmexy abs. Mortally wounded, the leader gasped and died.
Seeing their mighty leader fall to Fëanor's strength, his underlings panicked and ran away, disappearing into the night.

''That was amazing,'' Elanor breathed.
Fëanor leaned down and gently brushed his lips against hers, his singed marshmallow-scented breath caressing her cheek. ''Your love for me gave me the strength I needed. Now, everything is perfect.''

''Almost perfect...''

''Almost?''

''Everything would be perfect if you made me like you. I know you can do it.''

''Are you sure? If I did this, you'd never be able to walk down the street without getting heckled by a bunch of drunk Teleri again.''

''I'm sure,'' she breathed.
Fëanor jumped up and down yelling and banging a frying pan Elanor's arm, allowing his very essence to flow into her body. She sighed, then started yelling and banging a frying pan.
Soon, the transformation was complete. Elanor was now a shiny manaical, Silmaril-crazed Kinslaying Noldorin Elf, just like Fëanor. Everything truly was perfect.
The End.