"Confessions" by A.K.A (Pooki Ze Great)
Frodo's A Bitch (sorry Frodo lovers)

Merry's Not All There Estella's Paying Up For Pain She Didn't Cause Pippin's Confused

Illustrations: I currently have one illustration for this, drawn by the very talented, very funny, and rather insane Emma, and you can find it at . Join. Why? Because you want to, as it is fun, and the people are insane there. But in a nice way. Not in that whole scary "Hello I am a hairy man named Phil, I live in my mother's basement and rape young children" way, more in a "Hee hee hee, gay incest hobbit porn, woot woot!" way. Yes.

Email: obsessive_creature@hotmail.com

Summary: "Filled with sudden blinding rage, I took the butterfly in my hand and crushed it, laughing with grim amusement as I felt its innards spill and cover my palm." -Meriadoc Brandybuck, January 6th 1419

Warning: Merry being really psychotic, slight violence, slash, and well just lots of crazy evil Merry

Archiving: Ask first

Disclaimer: If I owned LotR, then trust me you would know.

Rating: R for disturbing content

Chapter: 9/?

Pairing: Main pairings: Merry/Pippin, Merry/Estella, Frodo/Sam (in later chaps, sorry), Frodo/"Rosie"

Feedback: Please yes, I save it all and print it off and then feel like slightly less of a loser.

Category: Romance/angst/tragedy

A/N: Sorry this took so long, lots of homework (ick), and working on two other fics, not to mention homework. And oh yeah, did I mention homework? *glares in general assumed direction of school* But the point is, I wrote two chapters today, which makes up for it, bwaha. Also, if anybody is craving really angsty/depressing, yet poetic music, I strongly suggest buying AFI, 'Sing The Sorrow' because it is absolutely beautiful. One of the lines is "There is poetry in despair, and we sang with unrivaled beauty." Need I say more? Absolutely amazing lyricist. And good songs as well, so yes, go buy it.

A/N2: Two very long quotes, but they're disturbed and depressing and poetic, like Merry's mood in this chap. So get over your fear of long paragraphs, and READ THEM!

**********

"I cannot leave here I cannot stay. Forever haunted, more than afraid. Asphyxiate on words I would say. I'm drawn to a blackened sky as I turn blue. There are no flowers, no not this time. There will be no angels gracing the lines, just these stark words I find. I'd show a smile, but I'm too weak. I'd share with you could I only speak just how much this hurts me. I cannot stay here I cannot leave. Just like all I loved, I'm make- believe. Imagined heart, I disappear. Seems no one will appear here and make me real. There are no flowers, no not this time. There will be no angels gracing the lines, just these stark words I find. I'd show a smile, but I'm too weak, I'd share with you could I only speak just how much this hurts me. I'd tell you that it haunts me (cuts through my day and sinks into my dreams), you don't care that it haunts me. There are no flowers, no not this time. There will be no angels gracing the lines, just these stark words I find. I'd show a smile, but I'm too weak. I'd share with you could I only speak just how much this hurts me. Just how much this hurts me. Just how much you..." -AFI, 'This Time Imperfect'

***********

"We held hands on the last night on earth. Our mouths filled with dust, we kissed in the fields and under trees, screaming like dogs, bleeding dark into the leaves. It was empty on the edge of town but we knew everyone floated along the bottom of the river. So we walked through the waste where the road curved into the sea and the shattered seasons lay, and the bitter smell of burning was on you like a disease. In our cancer of passion you said, "Death is a midnight runner." The sky had come crashing down like the news of an intimate suicide. We picked up the shards and formed them into shapes of shards that wore like an antique wedding dress. The echoes of the past broke the hearts of the unborn as the ferris wheel silently slowed to a stop. The few insects skittered away in hopes of a better pastime. I kissed you at the apex of the maelstrom and asked if you would accompany me in a quick fall, but you made me realise that my ticket wasn't good for two. I rode alone. You said "The cinders are falling like snow." There is poetry in despair and we sang with unrivaled beauty, bitter elegies of savagery and eloquence. Of blue and grey. Strange, we ran down desperate streets and carved our names in the flesh of the city. The sun has stagnated somewhere beyond the rim of the horizon and the darkness is a mystery of curves and lines. Still, we lay under the emptiness and drifted slowly outward, and somewhere in the wilderness we found salvation scratched into the earth like a message." -AFI

******

I'm warning you one last time, at least read the second quote as it is the most beautiful thing I have ever read in my life.

*******

I faintly registered the sounds of her retreating stumbling, more concerned with the small trickle of blood Pippin was coughing up.

Someone cleared their throat behind me. I turned around to see Frodo, pleased as if we had spent all night sharing the same bed without a wink of sleep.

Suddenly it occurred to me why Estella had come home a day early.

"You conniving little harlot," I took a step forward clenching my fists, ready to re-arrange his features in new, exciting ways.

He paled (I had previously thought that barely possible for him), and backed against the dresser, accidentally sticking his hand into a pool of Estella's blood while trying to distance himself from my anger.

"How could you do this to him," I hissed through my teeth clamped together in an attempt to bridle my rage.

He gave no answer and the fear on his face disgusted me, pushing me fully over the edge.

I slammed one of my white-knuckled fists clamped tight into his face. With the weight of my body behind it. He was suddenly standing straight on the dresser, his body momentarily spread out and splayed across the wall with the force of the blow. He slumped down, sitting with his head on his knees for what seemed like hours, although it could not have been more than a split second, my time was surreal, flowing, slow-motion as I horrifiedly watched the results of my anger, once again hurting those around me, I looked back at Pippin, terrified of what I might do to him if he ever crossed me. I stared for a few seconds at his terrified green eyes, wide as any animal's about to be slayed, as he gazed in horror at Frodo's seemingly broken body.

I looked back at Frodo, who was watching me warily, and he winced when me gaze was returned to him once more. He whimpered, mumbling softly something about him being sorry, and he stalked off, almost tripping over his own feet. The image of his scared face, right eye already beginning to blacken, remained branded in my mind, burning further away at the broken web of my sanity.

I stared after him for a brief eternity until I heard Pippin give a small whimper and I turned to him once more, getting down on my knees to caress his bruised face.

"My poor dear Pip," I said, gently examining his bluish cheek, "you never asked for this fate that I have so cruelly thrust upon you..."

He looked up at me, eyes flashing as that of a wounded beast tied down in captivity and I could not resist. I leaned forward and pressed my burning lips against his bruised ones, relishing the shaky, terrified way he gave into me, warily giving my tongue permission to explore his mouth, and shivering slightly when I pulled away.

He sat, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed and a contented half- smile on his face, before dreamily opening them and suddenly snapping back into attention, standing quickly and teetering from the rush of blood to his head the hurried movement had caused.

He suddenly looked petrified.

"I... I have to go... I'll. return tomorrow morning with my things..."

He ran off back down the hall without saying another word and I sighed, forcing myself to organise my rushing thoughts.

I couldn't possibly be falling in love with him, could I? No. No. There was NO SUCH THING AS... love... Mother told me that each day of my childhood, and I believe her.

I wandered through the lonely passages of my abode, touching this and that in an attempt to get my mind off of the ever-mounting pains of my hunger for Pippin.

Nothing in the house worked so I ran outside and all the way to the forests just outside of Hobbiton. I collapsed in an agonized ball of need against a tree, shaking with tears long held in as I released my emotions onto the rough bark which scratched my face.

Once I began to calm again and I could see, I sadly watched a butterfly feeding off of a flower, and I saw how it sucked the living juices out of it, gaining from the flower'' life as mother gains from my despair and pain.

Filled with sudden blinding rage, I took the butterfly in my hand and crushed it, laughing with grim amusement as I felt its innards spill and cover my palm.

I walked back to the house, slowly in a dream (or was it nightmare?), the sun setting red as blood and spreading its anger over my soul, boiling my blood and whispering poisoning words of the darkness soon to come in my ear and it pierced my mind like a blade, and causing my anger to bloom like a rose soon to die.

Finally I stood at my home's gate, and I unclenched my fist slowly to reveal I still had the butterfly's remains in my palm.

I wiped it off on the wooden gate, grimacing slightly and opened the gate with only one thought in my mind: revenge.

Estella would pay, she would pay dearly and relieve me of my pains for Pip while doing so.

I strode purposefully through the halls until I stood outside the door to see Estella putting away a book and quill on the bedside table.

She jumped slightly when she saw me and lay on her back in what I suppose she must have thought was an enticing matter.

"Estella dear, turn over."

Yes, I made her pay dearly, but still, still I hunger for him.

-MB, Late Night January 6th 1419