"Confessions" by A.K.A (Pooki Ze Great)

Merry's Disturbed Estella's the possessor of a tragic love for the very person who hurts her the most (next to herself that is)

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: "The reason I cry? Still as I shed these tears of agony, still I love him." -Estella Brandybuck, January 7th 1419

Warning: Rape, Het, slight violence

Archiving: Ask first

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

Rating: R for rape

Chapter: 10/?

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: I told you I made up for it, two chapters in one day, go me!

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"Your sins into me, oh my beautiful one." -AFI, 'Silver And Gold'

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"Estella dear, turn over," he said with a disturbing, slightly mad edge to his voice.

I did as I was told, it was never a smart idea to cross Merry when he was in one of his "moods."

I lay there, trembling slightly as I heard him hurriedly undress. Would we make love then? Oh it had been so long, and if there's one thing I know in my deepest heart, it's that I could never cheat on dear Merry, no matter what he does.

Suddenly I could feel him above and behind me, slowly lifting up my nightdress and exposing my bare bottom, which he thoughtfully ran a hand across.

"Merry, are we finally going to make love once mo-" I was cut off by the sudden pain of his girth ramming up into me as if we were two male hobbits.

"Mer- no- wha-" I stuttered, gasping for breath as the pain of my insides seemingly being ripped and torn into shreds choked the air out of me.

"Pip," he grunted, suddenly roughly fondling my breasts as well, but stopping as if he hated what he found there.

His burning hot hands moved down, down to my stomach and once again he removed his hands and muttered, "Too fat, Pip isn't so soft..."

I began to cry at this, suddenly realising what he was doing.

He smacked me on the head to quiet my sobs, and finally settled for clutching the sheets at either side of him and touching me only where he pounded into me, and I was left to cling desperately at the pillows in agony, with too little breath to continue my tears.

Finally he came, and having had his way he realised me, and I lay in a state of half-consciousness for a slight while, hearing the scratch of quill on paper and then finally he slept.

I watched his form laying there and noticed he had either not noticed, or (more likely), not cared that he was still covered in my blood.

I slowly pulled myself up to my spot and collapsed there, trying not to move the lower half of my body.

And now as I lay beside the man I married I cry, taking no heed of who might hear me.

The reason I cry?

The man I married raped me while thinking of his lover, and still as I shed these tears of agony, still I love him.

-EB, The Early Hours Of January 7th, 1419