Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance

Profile of a Ficwaddian


You probably don't know who I am... But I'm being fashionably late ;)

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: G - Genres: Fantasy - Published: 2012-08-06 - Updated: 2012-09-02 - 809 words

Real Name: Megan


Gender: Female... Last time I checked

Country: England!

City: erm... The pathetic town of Cheser-le-street.

Religion: supposed to be Christian but I'm a bit agnostic.

Relationship status: single... Maybe I should get a cat?

Picture of yourself (optional): sorry, it's for your own safety.

Favourite musicians/bands: My Chemical Romance, Greenday, Bowling for soup, Charlie simpson, Futurboy, Avenged Sevenfold.

Favourite movies: League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, Nightmare before Christmas, X-men, Avatar, Mulan, superman, All of the Batmans, the Harry Potters, the Mummys, Percy Jackson, Green Lantern, Thor, Captain America, Iron Man 1 & 2.

Favourite TV shows: How I met your Mother, the Big Bang Theory, Futurama, Smallville

Favourite Books: HARRY POTTER! The Mortal Instruments, The Infernal Devices, The Lux Novels, the I am number four series, The Agency, House of Night, I Shall wear midnight, Eragon, Eldest, Brisingr, chaos walking series, Shiver, Linger, Lament, Ballad, Claire de Lune

Heroes: All of My Chemical Romance, Anna Pavlova, Alan Rickman, J.K Rowling.

Bandoms you write for:  My Chemical Romance

Pairings you ship: frerard, Pikey, maybe a bit of Frikey.

Your favourite authors on here: hmm... So many! Bleedingvalentine, Cosmiczombie, Chloewayiero, can't remember the Names of all the others but... Yeah.

Your favourite fics on here: again so many, Stockholm Syndrome, Be my detonator, Of secrets and a starlight sky...

Sample of your writing:
It's not from any of my fics but I've had it under my sleeve for a while. It's a superman fic:

The night wind howled loud, rattling the flimsy glass window of the dark room. In which the old man reclined on a cigarette burned arm chair, his gaze fixed on the flickering TV set. 
The news reporter, a young female by the name of Frances Holmes, stared intently at the camera as she spoke:

"One year has past since Superman's return to earth and our hero still manages to save us humans from ourselves. I am here with one June Picket who, earlier today, was saved from her burning house by the Man of Steel himself. June, how did you feel when Superman showed up...?" The old man started to chuckle. The chuckle turned into laughing, great rib-heaving laughs that soon morphed into equally as powerful chest-racking coughs. A couple of seconds later and the door leading to this room was flung open, blinding the pensioner for a moment before a figure blocked the light. The woman was young, slender, with coffee coloured skin and hair the shade of night but her would-be attractive face was ruined by the resentful twist to her features. Her flowing skirt trailed after her as she strode up to the chair, raising a hand, and slapped the old man across his shoulder blades a few times. 

"Superman. Now that's a gentleman" the old man croaked, revealing cracked teeth as he sneered at the girl, "the world needs people like him to save us  from ruining this planet like his people ruined theirs. Good old Superman, always saving the damsel and and looking damn good doing it" the girl scoffed.

"If Superman truly did listen to our cries like they say he does then he would have saved me from the likes of you years ago" she stepped towards the door, "Superman is no hero, he's just another fame-drunk moron... Oh and by the way... I spit in your tea" with that she turned to leave, giving a brief view of the bruises and scars that littered her shoulders, knowing that admission would guarantee another night of hell. But she wouldn't have to bear it for long, no, for tomorrow... Tomorrow will be the day she jumps.

High above the apartment block and backed by the pale light of the moon, Superman hovered. His crimson cape flapped in the gentle breeze, mirroring the unease and agitation Superman himself felt inside. Despite the fact that the night air was filled with only the sound of vehicle horns and lousy bar music: something was wrong, he could feel it in his very core, but he could not work out what it was. Lois was fine, peaceful in sleep, as was Jason. His mother, Martha, was well and rested. He'd even gone as far as to check up on Jimmy, which had resulted in an annoyed, 
"CK, it's midnight! Go away!"
But Superman himself could get no rest. And it worried him.

In amongst the music and horns a single, ear-splitting scream pierced the night followed by groans of pain.
A flash of red and blue streaked across the city to the window of an old, tacky apartment building: the source of the scream. Grubby blinds were closed but the light from inside cast a silhouette onto them, Superman squinted, about to use x-ray vision, when the positions of the silhouettes registered.
Embarrassed, he fled, the scream still ringing in his ears.
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