TITLE: Shy in the streets, freak in the sheets CHAPTER NUMBER/ONE SHOT: One Shot AUTHOR: fanfickittycat WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: Actor Tom GENRE: Smut, Romance FIC SUMMARY: The morning after a one night stand, shy OC is hoping to escape after revealing what a freak she is in the sheets RATING: M (smut and bad words) AUTHORS NOTES/WARNINGS: Oh, my God what have I written? Please be very, very kind because I’ve never written smut before but I had the idea and well… I guess you’ll just have to read on to find out what happened. Warnings are as mentioned above and I haven’t edited because I’m lazy.
“ Excuse me my lord, may I request my lord, permission my lord to speak? Forgive me if I suggest my lord; you’re looking less than your best my lord, there’s powder upon your vest my lord, and stubble upon your cheek. And ladies my lord are weak. ”
“…though the union of the fëar of the wedded is not broken by distance of
place, yet in creatures that live as spirits embodied fëa communes with fëa in full only when the bodies dwell together.” - “Laws and Customs Among the Eldar”, Morgoth’s Ring, J.R.R. Tolkien
“But Morgoth himself
the Valar thrust through the Door of Night beyond the Walls of the World, into
the Timeless Void…” - The
Silmarillion, J.R.R. Tolkien
“When Thangorodrim was
broken and Morgoth overthrown, Sauron put on his fair hue again and did
obeisance to Eönwë, the herald of Manwë…" - The
Silmarillion, J.R.R. Tolkien
It hit Mairon like a blow.
He staggered, clutching at the stone wall that ran alongside the path
they walked. Eönwë’s eyes widened in
alarm as he glanced back to determine why Mairon had stopped. But Mairon paid no heed to the other Maia’s
concern. In truth, he did not notice. His thoughts were on another.
“My lord…” Mairon
gasped, sinking to his knees amid dust and rocks. Tears rose unbidden to his eyes. No,
he thought, this cannot be. Even in the time of Melkor’s captivity, when
the Elves were new, and the Valar kept him chained, Mairon had always been able
to sense him. No matter the distance, he
had known Melkor was alive and that he would return to him. The two were bound; the union of their spirits
had formed an indissoluble connection.
But now that bond had been severed.
In his soul, he felt only a ragged, aching hole where Melkor should have
been. Mairon felt as though he’d been
rent in two.
Gravel pressed sharply against the palms of his hands as
panic gripped him. Surely, the Valar would not have killed him, the Maia reasoned
desperately. Despite all that he had
done against them, he was still of their kind.
They would not, could not,
have destroyed him utterly. Eru would never
allow such a thing. Manwë always followed the will of Eru. Always.
But then why can I not sense him?
Mairon’s mind shrieked in anguish.
“They have sentenced him to exile,” Eönwë supplied
hesitantly, seeming to realize the source of Mairon’s distress, “and shut him
into the Void, beyond this World. Just
now they must have closed the Door of Night; that is what you felt. I did not know that you and he…” His voice faltered as Mairon looked up at
him, a paradoxical mix of pain and relief etched onto his fair face. “I’m sorry,” Eönwë said instead, turning
away. “Brother,” he continued, “you are
of my order, and thus I cannot pardon you.
Return to Aman and seek the mercy of Lord Manwë. Your sins may yet be atoned for. Forgive me, but I must leave you now. There are other matters that I must attend
to.” Then Eönwë departed from Mairon,
leaving him to mourn alone.
Mairon waited until Eönwë had left before rising shakily to
his feet. Melkor was not dead; that fact
was enough to calm him for a moment. And
yet, though not destroyed, he was still beyond even the reach of Mairon’s soul. The lack of his beloved lord burned hollowly
within him, but the despair that would have broken his heart turned instead to
hatred, hardening it.
“Return to Aman, Eönwë says,” Mairon muttered through
gritted teeth, his voice low and seething.
“Return to Aman, I shall, but not to seek pardon…” For when
I next meet the Valar, he vowed, it
shall be to overthrow them. And I shall
throw open the Door of Night and take back he whom they have taken from
me! But even in the rage of his
wrath, Mairon was not so rash as to rush into action, not when so much was at
stake. Though his heart quailed and his
soul quaked at the thought of the long ages he may have to endure, sundered
from the one whom he held most precious, he stood tall and defiant.
Much there was to plan and prepare. Mairon turned back down the path he had walked
beside Eönwë. Clutching the ache in his
soul, he moved forward. Mairon left the ruined
lands of the North, the kingdom he had helped his Master hold for hundreds of
years, and he did not look back. There
were other lands now that he must conquer.
Through lies and subtlety, wars and destruction, he would
prevail. However long it took, whatever
suffering he must endure along the way, Mairon would defeat the Valar. He would be reunited with Melkor, and he
would be whole again. This is what he told
himself, in the dead of night, when he was utterly alone, and his spirit
trembled with loss and longing. This is
what he whispered to the Darkness that could not hear him. I will
be with you again.
Author’s note: After many months of waffling, I’ve finally written a priest!Killian story. Blame @jscoutfinch and @optomisticgirl. Ladies, this is for you! Warning: if you’re easily offended or very religious, you may want to skip this. Dirty with some sacrilegious themes. Otherwise, enjoy!
Killian scrubbed his hands over his
face. Midnight Mass was in two hours, but it might as well be two
minutes. In his distracted
state, he was sure to mess something up. He’d participated in the
Mass several times since taking his vows, would have sworn he could
do it in his sleep. But that was before. Before he’d come to this
parish, before he’d broken his vows, before he met a certain blonde
that any of this was her fault. He was the one with a sacred vow. He
was the one who fantasized about her. He was the one who couldn’t
My teacher tripped over a box the other day and whispered ‘the devil may try to bring me down but my lord always picks me back up again’ and we was all silent just watching her and she started humming and singing hymns to herself in the corner and shouting MY LORD MY LORD and she had to be taken out and we had a supply for the rest of the lesson but he looked like Jesus