Memorials for the dead. My first sporking!
http://community.livejournal.com/desencantado_x/28928.html
Title: Memorials are for the Dead chapter two.
Author: holyfroraytoro
Is it a Mary Sue or Gary Stu? I'm actually not sure at this point. It may be heading for a Gary Stu though!
To be fair to the author, this is by no means the worst fic I have ever read. No real complaints about spelling or grammar either. It just made me lol.
"Matt...you're hurting me." Gerard whimpered.
"Shuthe fuckup."Epic spacebar fail Otter snarled, Oooh, Matt as the bad guy! I've never seen that written before! and Gerard stifled another cry as the bigger man drove roughly into his body. Gerard had already climaxed and his hypersensitive body couldn't take much more of the sexual stimulus it was receiving; he could feel his legs start to throb and his lower back was numb. He should get to a hospital. o.O
"Matt!"
<->_<->
"What the hell...?" Hang on, what happened to the bad!sex? Ray pushed his glasses up on his nose, as if that would help him hear better. But his ears were still ringing from the crowd and the way Frank's little SG had given a crackling wail that he knew had been coming all night; Ray had warned his still-somewhat begrudged compatriot about the system before they had even started tuning, but Frank just looked at him without comprehension.
Ray turned around as someone sped past. Speak of the devil..."Frank! Where're you going?" Ray called. Frank skidded to a stop, and looked up at the ceiling in surprise.
"Well Mr. Ceiling, I have a really pretty--" pause. Giggle. Headdesk. "--pretty boy outside waitin' for me, and I can't keep him waiting!"
"Uh...right. Have, um...fun?" Ray said tentatively.
"I will!" Frank dashed back to Ray, and placed a sloppy kiss on his lips. "Love you Mr. Ceiling!" Mr... What?
Ray started Started what? when he felt the wetcommahot of lips against his own, mind blanking out for a second. "What...the hell." My thoughts exactly he muttered for the second time that night, gently brushing a finger across his lips as Frank skipped down the hall. Ray spotted a door inconspicuously labeled 'Broom Closet' As opposed to all those Conspicously labelled ones we assume. located conveniently to his left, and the guitarist quickly slipped inside. Ray shut the door behind him, closed his eyes and slammed his forehead against the door once. Hard.
"What the hell?!" Dude. I know.
<->_<-> I love how these little divider things the author has put in look so much like the face this is making me pull.
Mikey paused beside a door that was labeled somewhat suspiciously. 'Broom Closet'? Hang on, a minute ago it was "inconspicuously" labelled, now it's "suspiciously" labelled? This broom closet is clearly having some kind of identity crisis
Funny noises were coming from it, muffled banging and something that sounded like Ray saying "what the hell?!" over and over. He just read this story so far.
"Ray? Is that you?" Mikey asked timidly, pushing open the door.
"Ow! Fuck that hurts worse..." Ray tumbled out of the closet, holding his nose. Mikey gave a startled squeak as the man fell against him. "How's it goin' Mikey." Ray said awkwardly.
"F-fine?" Mikey stammered, blushing and shoving up his glasses as Ray straightened his shirt.
"Oh that's...good then. It’s good." Ray replied. They stood there for several seconds, Ray twitching in slight annoyance at the continued presence of ringing in his ears.
"What were you doing in there?" Mikey finally asked bluntly. Ray gulped, shot a look down the hall both ways and then dragged the younger boy back into the closet, slamming the door shut.
Mikey gave a choked cry, fingers scrabbling across Ray's torso as he tried to fight off the older man. Ray shushed him hastily, trying to talk over his whimpers.
"Mikes, I'm fucking--I think something's wrong with me." Ray said finally. Mikey, who had relaxed into a leaning position against Ray's chest, looked up warily.
"What do you mean?"
"Frank...he kissed me." Ray said hesitantly. Mikey shoved away, backing into the closet wall.
"And...?" Mikey asked, a note of fear in his voice. Why does that scare him?
Ray ducked his head in shame, his silence answer enough. Mikey gasped.
"You're sure?" Sure of what?!
"Well not like, positive." Ray said defensively. Mikey's next question shocked Ray.
"Are...are you gonna' rape me? I m-mean...you dragged me into a closet." Of course he is. Mikey must always be raped. It's a fandom rule, didn't you know?
"Mikey!" Ray hugged Mikey tightly, soothing down the perpetually rumpled hair on the back of the boy's head. "Mikes...I would never do that to anyone, but least of all you. C'mon. This changes nothing. I'm not really sure--I might just be tired!" Ray reasoned as Mikey drew away.
"M'kay. I just...no one, right?" Mikey asked slowly as Ray opened the door.
"Nobody. C'mon, you know me. M' Ray. Big, fluffy, dorky." Ray insisted, ushering Mikey out and tweaking the younger boy's nose affectionately as down the hall, the door of the men's room opened.
Did any of you actually get that whole broom closet bit? I sure didn't.
<->_<->
"Get out. I'm through with you." Otter spat Very calmly, avoiding exclamation marks, shoving Gerard out the door. Gerard buried his face in Matt's coat, the one he had snatched up from the floor before Otter had shoved him out. The singer's shoulders started to heave, and he really felt ridiculous, crying in a hallway, but he couldn't help it.
I hate this--I hate him so much...
Gerard slid down the wall, oblivious to the sound of running footsteps as he sobbed brokenly into the jacket clutched in his arms, feeling physical pain dull as emotional surged up to take it's place. OMG EMO!
I just want to be free...
<->_<->
"Gerard!" Mikey cried, watching his brother curl up into a miserable ball. Ray ran to the singer, kneeling beside him and rubbing Gerard's back, listening to the dark-haired man's desperate crying with a stab of remorse. But Ray abruptly lost his trail of thought as his fingers coasted over a rough patch of skin on the nape of Gerard's neck. The guitarist swept the hair out of the way, and was stunned.
Brown-reddish bruises, yellowing hickeys, teeth marks--is that a rope burn?
"Jesus Gerard...what the fuck is going on here?" A spot of light S&M perhaps? Ray asked in horror, hand pressing palm-down on the battered skin. Gerard keened out, ducking out from under the touch as Mikey dragged him to his feet.
"Gee I...let's get you some soup, alright." Soup? Mikey said softly, leading Gerard back towards the main room.
Ray stood there, a ragged leather jacket in his grasp. Gerard had been holding it, but he pressed it to Ray's hands before he left.
There was a stirring noise in the bathroom, Stirring? Is someone making tea? and Matt stumbled out, nose bleeding and red. Oh. so no tea then. Damn. Ray snarled inwardly as Matt turned to look at him, blinking slowly. How exactly does one blink slowly?
"Whatchu' doin' wif ma coat? Gangsta Matt is not amused... Needs...it morn' you do." Matt slurred, snatching the coat away and struggling into it. He staggered off down the hall, and Ray looked after him.
No one saw the slow bunch of muscles in Ray's forearm, or how he gritted his teeth without fully knowing why.
I fucking hate him.
<->_<->
Why did Gerard give me the coat? Maybe he's trying to tell me something. Is he stuck somewhere? Maybe we're supposed to change our look? Ray wondered as Frank rocked absently back and forth on the seat next to him.
"Can I sit on your lap?" Pardon?
Before Ray could respond Frank curled up on his lap, holding Ray's hand and pulling the lead guitarist's arm over his body. Ray's brow furrowed as he felt hot breath sigh across his jeans, and Frank relaxed into the somewhat self-created embrace. O hai little girl Frank! You want me to brush your pigtails?
"Sure..." Ray gave a quiet groan, shifting slightly until he was a little more comfortable.
<->_<->
Gerard carefully eased away from Matt, crawling over the seat to rest his head on Toro. He seemed to be the designated landing pad on this drive anyway. Mikey's head rested on Ray's thigh, his nose even with Frank's chin. Mikey was snoring his nasally little baby snore, Because that's what grown men sound like when they snore. Babies. while Frank's mouth was open and drool was blotting Ray's jeans. Hot.
Toro himself was asleep as well, his head drooped to his chest and legs sprawled out in front of him. Gerard leaned on Ray's shoulder, cushioning his head with Ray's hair. Ray mumbled something, and eased his arm around Gerard, locking him into a warm hug with the other members of the band. Aww... It's so cute and totally realistic when they fall asleep cuddling.
Except for Otter, who watched angrily as Gerard slipped out of his grasp... Before slipping out into the night to hunt for fresh blood. Or whatever Evil!Matt usually does in these things.
Title: Memorials are for the Dead chapter two.
Author: holyfroraytoro
Is it a Mary Sue or Gary Stu? I'm actually not sure at this point. It may be heading for a Gary Stu though!
To be fair to the author, this is by no means the worst fic I have ever read. No real complaints about spelling or grammar either. It just made me lol.
"Matt...you're hurting me." Gerard whimpered.
"Shuthe fuckup."Epic spacebar fail Otter snarled, Oooh, Matt as the bad guy! I've never seen that written before! and Gerard stifled another cry as the bigger man drove roughly into his body. Gerard had already climaxed and his hypersensitive body couldn't take much more of the sexual stimulus it was receiving; he could feel his legs start to throb and his lower back was numb. He should get to a hospital. o.O
"Matt!"
<->_<->
"What the hell...?" Hang on, what happened to the bad!sex? Ray pushed his glasses up on his nose, as if that would help him hear better. But his ears were still ringing from the crowd and the way Frank's little SG had given a crackling wail that he knew had been coming all night; Ray had warned his still-somewhat begrudged compatriot about the system before they had even started tuning, but Frank just looked at him without comprehension.
Ray turned around as someone sped past. Speak of the devil..."Frank! Where're you going?" Ray called. Frank skidded to a stop, and looked up at the ceiling in surprise.
"Well Mr. Ceiling, I have a really pretty--" pause. Giggle. Headdesk. "--pretty boy outside waitin' for me, and I can't keep him waiting!"
"Uh...right. Have, um...fun?" Ray said tentatively.
"I will!" Frank dashed back to Ray, and placed a sloppy kiss on his lips. "Love you Mr. Ceiling!" Mr... What?
Ray started Started what? when he felt the wetcommahot of lips against his own, mind blanking out for a second. "What...the hell." My thoughts exactly he muttered for the second time that night, gently brushing a finger across his lips as Frank skipped down the hall. Ray spotted a door inconspicuously labeled 'Broom Closet' As opposed to all those Conspicously labelled ones we assume. located conveniently to his left, and the guitarist quickly slipped inside. Ray shut the door behind him, closed his eyes and slammed his forehead against the door once. Hard.
"What the hell?!" Dude. I know.
<->_<-> I love how these little divider things the author has put in look so much like the face this is making me pull.
Mikey paused beside a door that was labeled somewhat suspiciously. 'Broom Closet'? Hang on, a minute ago it was "inconspicuously" labelled, now it's "suspiciously" labelled? This broom closet is clearly having some kind of identity crisis
Funny noises were coming from it, muffled banging and something that sounded like Ray saying "what the hell?!" over and over. He just read this story so far.
"Ray? Is that you?" Mikey asked timidly, pushing open the door.
"Ow! Fuck that hurts worse..." Ray tumbled out of the closet, holding his nose. Mikey gave a startled squeak as the man fell against him. "How's it goin' Mikey." Ray said awkwardly.
"F-fine?" Mikey stammered, blushing and shoving up his glasses as Ray straightened his shirt.
"Oh that's...good then. It’s good." Ray replied. They stood there for several seconds, Ray twitching in slight annoyance at the continued presence of ringing in his ears.
"What were you doing in there?" Mikey finally asked bluntly. Ray gulped, shot a look down the hall both ways and then dragged the younger boy back into the closet, slamming the door shut.
Mikey gave a choked cry, fingers scrabbling across Ray's torso as he tried to fight off the older man. Ray shushed him hastily, trying to talk over his whimpers.
"Mikes, I'm fucking--I think something's wrong with me." Ray said finally. Mikey, who had relaxed into a leaning position against Ray's chest, looked up warily.
"What do you mean?"
"Frank...he kissed me." Ray said hesitantly. Mikey shoved away, backing into the closet wall.
"And...?" Mikey asked, a note of fear in his voice. Why does that scare him?
Ray ducked his head in shame, his silence answer enough. Mikey gasped.
"You're sure?" Sure of what?!
"Well not like, positive." Ray said defensively. Mikey's next question shocked Ray.
"Are...are you gonna' rape me? I m-mean...you dragged me into a closet." Of course he is. Mikey must always be raped. It's a fandom rule, didn't you know?
"Mikey!" Ray hugged Mikey tightly, soothing down the perpetually rumpled hair on the back of the boy's head. "Mikes...I would never do that to anyone, but least of all you. C'mon. This changes nothing. I'm not really sure--I might just be tired!" Ray reasoned as Mikey drew away.
"M'kay. I just...no one, right?" Mikey asked slowly as Ray opened the door.
"Nobody. C'mon, you know me. M' Ray. Big, fluffy, dorky." Ray insisted, ushering Mikey out and tweaking the younger boy's nose affectionately as down the hall, the door of the men's room opened.
Did any of you actually get that whole broom closet bit? I sure didn't.
<->_<->
"Get out. I'm through with you." Otter spat Very calmly, avoiding exclamation marks, shoving Gerard out the door. Gerard buried his face in Matt's coat, the one he had snatched up from the floor before Otter had shoved him out. The singer's shoulders started to heave, and he really felt ridiculous, crying in a hallway, but he couldn't help it.
I hate this--I hate him so much...
Gerard slid down the wall, oblivious to the sound of running footsteps as he sobbed brokenly into the jacket clutched in his arms, feeling physical pain dull as emotional surged up to take it's place. OMG EMO!
I just want to be free...
<->_<->
"Gerard!" Mikey cried, watching his brother curl up into a miserable ball. Ray ran to the singer, kneeling beside him and rubbing Gerard's back, listening to the dark-haired man's desperate crying with a stab of remorse. But Ray abruptly lost his trail of thought as his fingers coasted over a rough patch of skin on the nape of Gerard's neck. The guitarist swept the hair out of the way, and was stunned.
Brown-reddish bruises, yellowing hickeys, teeth marks--is that a rope burn?
"Jesus Gerard...what the fuck is going on here?" A spot of light S&M perhaps? Ray asked in horror, hand pressing palm-down on the battered skin. Gerard keened out, ducking out from under the touch as Mikey dragged him to his feet.
"Gee I...let's get you some soup, alright." Soup? Mikey said softly, leading Gerard back towards the main room.
Ray stood there, a ragged leather jacket in his grasp. Gerard had been holding it, but he pressed it to Ray's hands before he left.
There was a stirring noise in the bathroom, Stirring? Is someone making tea? and Matt stumbled out, nose bleeding and red. Oh. so no tea then. Damn. Ray snarled inwardly as Matt turned to look at him, blinking slowly. How exactly does one blink slowly?
"Whatchu' doin' wif ma coat? Gangsta Matt is not amused... Needs...it morn' you do." Matt slurred, snatching the coat away and struggling into it. He staggered off down the hall, and Ray looked after him.
No one saw the slow bunch of muscles in Ray's forearm, or how he gritted his teeth without fully knowing why.
I fucking hate him.
<->_<->
Why did Gerard give me the coat? Maybe he's trying to tell me something. Is he stuck somewhere? Maybe we're supposed to change our look? Ray wondered as Frank rocked absently back and forth on the seat next to him.
"Can I sit on your lap?" Pardon?
Before Ray could respond Frank curled up on his lap, holding Ray's hand and pulling the lead guitarist's arm over his body. Ray's brow furrowed as he felt hot breath sigh across his jeans, and Frank relaxed into the somewhat self-created embrace. O hai little girl Frank! You want me to brush your pigtails?
"Sure..." Ray gave a quiet groan, shifting slightly until he was a little more comfortable.
<->_<->
Gerard carefully eased away from Matt, crawling over the seat to rest his head on Toro. He seemed to be the designated landing pad on this drive anyway. Mikey's head rested on Ray's thigh, his nose even with Frank's chin. Mikey was snoring his nasally little baby snore, Because that's what grown men sound like when they snore. Babies. while Frank's mouth was open and drool was blotting Ray's jeans. Hot.
Toro himself was asleep as well, his head drooped to his chest and legs sprawled out in front of him. Gerard leaned on Ray's shoulder, cushioning his head with Ray's hair. Ray mumbled something, and eased his arm around Gerard, locking him into a warm hug with the other members of the band. Aww... It's so cute and totally realistic when they fall asleep cuddling.
Except for Otter, who watched angrily as Gerard slipped out of his grasp... Before slipping out into the night to hunt for fresh blood. Or whatever Evil!Matt usually does in these things.