The Boy in a Skirt 8
Title: The Boy in a Skirt [8/?]
Author: ohvick
Pairing: Mikey/Frank (mostly)
Rating: PG-13 - R
POV: Mikey
Summary: This is a story of the evil that exists right under our very noses, and the consequences of falling in love…with a boy in a skirt.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these people. Just the plot.
Author Notes: wrote this last year. never finished. hope to finish :D
Dedication: Kristina. you started this. and to all of you who read this, because without you, i'd be writing for nothing.
Beta: jujuroo
Warnings: bad words, incest, implied pedophilia for this chapter
chapter 1|2|3|4|5|6| 7
I screamed a desperate cry.
It didn’t take long for me to realize where I’d opened my eyes to. La Morte. The death. A nightmare. I had ended up in a nightmare. No- that same nightmare. It decided to continue where it left off not too long ago. There were the same horribly frightening people.
Everywhere I turned there would be those zombie like characters, empty holes for mouths and upside down eyes, gnawed off noses- all types of these.
I couldn’t escape. Just about the worst scenario to even imagine being in. Everyone else is a scary zombie and you’re all alone. I guess when it all comes down to the basics, that’s all that really matters. I don’t think it would’ve been that much different if they were ordinary people with ordinary faces, because no matter what, when you’re alone, it’s the worst feeling. I turned and took in a sudden sharp breath that turned into a scream that emitted directly from my lungs, not even caring to pass through my voice box. I didn’t recognize the scream. Pure terror is how you’d describe it. I swear I had a heart attack too.
Right there, at a disturbingly close range was a particularly morbid guy. His cheeks were streaked with dried blood that seemed to pour out of his- you guessed it- dead, cold eyes. He was missing a few teeth and I could tell because his lips were decayed and nearly gone.
I cried. I didn’t fucking care about being a man. I wanted OUT! I knew it was a nightmare so why couldn’t I just wake up? I’d stumbled back, past the crowd of angry faces. I screamed, kicked, spazzed- anything that would help me wake up.
I fell back against a dirt streaked wall, clawing at it, searching for a way out. All the while, the people continued to stare and laugh. Jerks; Ugly, horrid jerks. “Go away! Go…away!” My voice died, but then came back with a screech to it. “HEEEELLP!!! FUCKING HELP! Somebody …oh God, I’m going to die. I swear to GOD. JUST FUCKING KILL ME NOW!!” You all know that, that thing we do in nightmares. You just want to end it. To die because you know that’s when you’ll wake up. Halfway through my desperate rant, I’d screwed my eyes shut. Not even screaming anymore, I chanted to myself, “It’s only a nightmare. It’s only a damn nightmare.”
I was talking to myself, crying. “When will it stop. Just please…please stop.” Then suddenly I wanted Frank; needed him. His name added onto the list- I cried for him also.
“What? You want Frank?” A loud voice, the same as the one who woke me up, spoke.
“….Yes.” I sobbed.
A thick chuckle, “I always knew you were sick.” then it added, “GET UP.”
I didn’t comply, just stayed there, with my head cradled in my arms, rocking back and forth.
“I said GET. UP.” The voice was right in my ear and I was suddenly jerked up to my feet roughly and slammed against the wall none too gently. I winced, but weakly opened my eyes.
The zombies were gone, and all that was left was this, this guy. His face, I’ve seen his face before. I’d like to say the familiarity rang a bell, but it didn’t. The guy wasn’t taller than me, but he was stronger; his weight pressed down hard on my chest. His menacing eyes were dark and had darker circles underneath them. His hair was a mess of black, dirty strands that seemed to move on it’s own in a snakelike way. And his skin, so pale like he’d never seen the light of day, and it seemed to glow in the dim light. His twisted smirk caught my eye and I suddenly felt fear toward him if that hadn’t happened already.
His right hand came up to clench a fistful of my hair. I yelped in pain and pulled my head back, exposing the right side of my neck.
He leaned in. I thought he was going to bite my neck, cut through the flesh with his teeth, and suck all the blood from my body. I whimpered like a kicked dog. I felt hot breath on my ear and the strong smell of tobacco reached my nostrils, disturbing my senses. I tried to turn away from the foul stench, but that hand held me in place, tightening its grip.
“So tell me,” He spoke softly, almost breathily in my ear. “When was the exact moment…” Pause for dramatic effect. “you fell in love with Frank?” He rested his head against my shoulder and kissed my neck lightly. It was smooth, highly contrasted with the nasty attitude.
My fright caused my breath to become erratic, “I’m not in love with hi-”
His fist collided with the wall next to my head resounding in a loud bang. It did some damage to my already painful head. The wall was crumbling under his fist. The sudden movement and sound had made me jump. I retreated and tried to cover up as much of me as I could. The hand that hit the wall cupped my cheek and forced me to look up at him. “Now let me ask you one more time.” He spoke clearly, as if I didn’t understand him the first time. “When did you fall in love with Frank?”
“…I don’t know-” A quick slap to the face. It stung, but I knew he could’ve hit harder.
“Are you in love with Frank Iero?” His eyes burned through mine when I looked back up at him.
“…Yes.” I prepared myself for pain.
He actually grinned, exposing little coffee stained teeth, “Do I scare you, Mikey?” My eyes widened. What do I say to that? He caressed my stinging cheek with the back of his fingers with featherlike touches and that same hand that had punched a dent in the wall and slapped me not 2 seconds ago. “Don’t be scared of me.” He leaned on my shoulder again. “I love you. More than anything in the world, my beautiful little brother.”
I gasped. “Gerard.”
“So you want Frank?” His voice was ice again, sharp and cold.
I couldn’t answer. “Well you can have him.” He spat venomously, “I’ve already fucked him.”
That’s when I woke up.
***
oh Gerard.
Author: ohvick
Pairing: Mikey/Frank (mostly)
Rating: PG-13 - R
POV: Mikey
Summary: This is a story of the evil that exists right under our very noses, and the consequences of falling in love…with a boy in a skirt.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these people. Just the plot.
Author Notes: wrote this last year. never finished. hope to finish :D
Dedication: Kristina. you started this. and to all of you who read this, because without you, i'd be writing for nothing.
Beta: jujuroo
Warnings: bad words, incest, implied pedophilia for this chapter
chapter 1|2|3|4|5|6| 7
I screamed a desperate cry.
It didn’t take long for me to realize where I’d opened my eyes to. La Morte. The death. A nightmare. I had ended up in a nightmare. No- that same nightmare. It decided to continue where it left off not too long ago. There were the same horribly frightening people.
Everywhere I turned there would be those zombie like characters, empty holes for mouths and upside down eyes, gnawed off noses- all types of these.
I couldn’t escape. Just about the worst scenario to even imagine being in. Everyone else is a scary zombie and you’re all alone. I guess when it all comes down to the basics, that’s all that really matters. I don’t think it would’ve been that much different if they were ordinary people with ordinary faces, because no matter what, when you’re alone, it’s the worst feeling. I turned and took in a sudden sharp breath that turned into a scream that emitted directly from my lungs, not even caring to pass through my voice box. I didn’t recognize the scream. Pure terror is how you’d describe it. I swear I had a heart attack too.
Right there, at a disturbingly close range was a particularly morbid guy. His cheeks were streaked with dried blood that seemed to pour out of his- you guessed it- dead, cold eyes. He was missing a few teeth and I could tell because his lips were decayed and nearly gone.
I cried. I didn’t fucking care about being a man. I wanted OUT! I knew it was a nightmare so why couldn’t I just wake up? I’d stumbled back, past the crowd of angry faces. I screamed, kicked, spazzed- anything that would help me wake up.
I fell back against a dirt streaked wall, clawing at it, searching for a way out. All the while, the people continued to stare and laugh. Jerks; Ugly, horrid jerks. “Go away! Go…away!” My voice died, but then came back with a screech to it. “HEEEELLP!!! FUCKING HELP! Somebody …oh God, I’m going to die. I swear to GOD. JUST FUCKING KILL ME NOW!!” You all know that, that thing we do in nightmares. You just want to end it. To die because you know that’s when you’ll wake up. Halfway through my desperate rant, I’d screwed my eyes shut. Not even screaming anymore, I chanted to myself, “It’s only a nightmare. It’s only a damn nightmare.”
I was talking to myself, crying. “When will it stop. Just please…please stop.” Then suddenly I wanted Frank; needed him. His name added onto the list- I cried for him also.
“What? You want Frank?” A loud voice, the same as the one who woke me up, spoke.
“….Yes.” I sobbed.
A thick chuckle, “I always knew you were sick.” then it added, “GET UP.”
I didn’t comply, just stayed there, with my head cradled in my arms, rocking back and forth.
“I said GET. UP.” The voice was right in my ear and I was suddenly jerked up to my feet roughly and slammed against the wall none too gently. I winced, but weakly opened my eyes.
The zombies were gone, and all that was left was this, this guy. His face, I’ve seen his face before. I’d like to say the familiarity rang a bell, but it didn’t. The guy wasn’t taller than me, but he was stronger; his weight pressed down hard on my chest. His menacing eyes were dark and had darker circles underneath them. His hair was a mess of black, dirty strands that seemed to move on it’s own in a snakelike way. And his skin, so pale like he’d never seen the light of day, and it seemed to glow in the dim light. His twisted smirk caught my eye and I suddenly felt fear toward him if that hadn’t happened already.
His right hand came up to clench a fistful of my hair. I yelped in pain and pulled my head back, exposing the right side of my neck.
He leaned in. I thought he was going to bite my neck, cut through the flesh with his teeth, and suck all the blood from my body. I whimpered like a kicked dog. I felt hot breath on my ear and the strong smell of tobacco reached my nostrils, disturbing my senses. I tried to turn away from the foul stench, but that hand held me in place, tightening its grip.
“So tell me,” He spoke softly, almost breathily in my ear. “When was the exact moment…” Pause for dramatic effect. “you fell in love with Frank?” He rested his head against my shoulder and kissed my neck lightly. It was smooth, highly contrasted with the nasty attitude.
My fright caused my breath to become erratic, “I’m not in love with hi-”
His fist collided with the wall next to my head resounding in a loud bang. It did some damage to my already painful head. The wall was crumbling under his fist. The sudden movement and sound had made me jump. I retreated and tried to cover up as much of me as I could. The hand that hit the wall cupped my cheek and forced me to look up at him. “Now let me ask you one more time.” He spoke clearly, as if I didn’t understand him the first time. “When did you fall in love with Frank?”
“…I don’t know-” A quick slap to the face. It stung, but I knew he could’ve hit harder.
“Are you in love with Frank Iero?” His eyes burned through mine when I looked back up at him.
“…Yes.” I prepared myself for pain.
He actually grinned, exposing little coffee stained teeth, “Do I scare you, Mikey?” My eyes widened. What do I say to that? He caressed my stinging cheek with the back of his fingers with featherlike touches and that same hand that had punched a dent in the wall and slapped me not 2 seconds ago. “Don’t be scared of me.” He leaned on my shoulder again. “I love you. More than anything in the world, my beautiful little brother.”
I gasped. “Gerard.”
“So you want Frank?” His voice was ice again, sharp and cold.
I couldn’t answer. “Well you can have him.” He spat venomously, “I’ve already fucked him.”
That’s when I woke up.
***
oh Gerard.