Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance
Their System Doesn't Work For You
1 reviewFRERARD! Frank and Gerard are freedom fighters, fucking the man and saving the world. MIRCO!ONESHOT
1Insightful
Their System Doesn’t Work For You.
The masses swelled. Moved and breathed as one. Gerard looked around at the sea of Guy Fawkes masks around him, adjusting his own and giving his companions hand a tight squeeze. Frank squeezed right back and his eyes smiled. Gerard’s ears rang, his voice was raw, his feet ached and his arm stiff from holding the sign above his head; loud and proud it read ‘I AM FIGHTING FOR FREEDOM! WE ARE PEOPLE NOT STATISTICS! FUCK CAPITALISM! OCCUPY!’
Frank and Gerard meet at a rally protesting sending troops over to Iraq. Frank was atop a literal soap box, megaphone painted like a huge mouth, screaming at the top of his lungs.
“WE CAN SAVE THE WORLD! WE JUST HAVE TO STOP FIGHTING OURSELVES! WE ARE NOT WEAPONS! WE WILL NOT DIE FOR OUR GOVERNMENT!” He was sweaty and raw and only seventeen but he was beautiful.
Gerard was at the rally with a few of his friends from SVA, brandishing his handmade ‘stop the madness’ shirt. When he finally caught Franks’ eye he couldn’t look away, nor could Frank apparently. He spent the rest of his speech eyes locked with Gerard’s, as though he was preaching to solely him.
“I can do it, you know” Frank cornered Gerard after clambering off his makeshift podium “I can change the world”
Gerard liked this kind of spirit in people, he smiled.
“I haven’t a doubt in my mind” he returned “I’m Gerard”
“Frank” his face was stretched into a devilish grin.
“Just take a look around this country; just take a look around this world. All we get is neo fascists, right-wing fucking propaganda. It's not our media, it's their fucking media. Raise your voice, stand together, raise your fist, TELL THE TRUTH!”
The crowd roared and screamed.
“TELL THE TRUTH! TELL THE TRUTH!” thousands of voices united, stuck on repeat. Desperate to be heard.
“RIOT POLICE!” a lone voice shrieked, somehow getting across to the pack.
The only time an actual riot happened was when the riot police started one.
Suddenly the vortex of people was crushing. Gerard’s chest was tight, he could barely breathe, but he never let go of Frank’s hand; he never had and never would.
Being in a riot, Gerard figured, was like being in a really intense mosh pit. Except instead of people enjoying themselves, feeling the music, they were running scared, trying to escape the governments poison clutches.
The screams were no longer discernable slogans, only bloody whimpers. The sound of beating down on skin and bones crunching. Gerard was frantic, his sweaty grip nearly slipping from Franks as the pushed their way out of the organism of protesters and police. He could already smell of the pepper spray, hear the cries and sobs, the sirens and fuck you’s.
They had nearly reached the edge of the street and Gerard got a gulp of fresh air before Frank stopped dead in his tracks. He yanked Gerard back to his side.
“FUCKING PIG!” He choked out.
In front of them a woman lay curled around his pregnant stomach, sobbing violently, face a mess of blood and spit as the masked police officer brought his baton down on her again and again. Blood seeped through her ‘I want my baby to have a future that won’t be sold for profit’ shirt.
“Get the fuck off her, you piece of shit bacon rind” Gerard spat out, Frank’s fist already swung back, ready to punch.
“Step away sirs. Or be prepared to arrested” The officer only stopping his lashings to reach for his gun and raise his hand towards the pair.
“Bite me you piece of shit” Frank launched himself at the pig “SHE WASN’T EVEN RESITING! WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS FUCKING COUNTRY?” Frank kicked and punched with every syllable. Before long the pig’s club connected with Frank’s jaw, his knee with Frank’s ribcage bringing the smaller to his knees. In a flash the officer gun was pressed in the back of Frank’s skull, his head bowed, jaw a jumble of shattered bones and blood.
“Get the fuck away from him” Gerard gritted out through clenched teeth.
:X:
Gerard gently rubbed his left wrist coloured with blue and purple, he and Frank had spent the majority of the night on the sidewalk out 1st street, handcuffed together.
“Fucking pigs” he mumbled “Man I am never going to get a job with my arrest record” he joked as he made his way into the tiny, ever so slightly claustrophobic bathroom.
Frank was leaning over the sink, dabbing a damp wash cloth to the angry gash on his forehead, his mangled jaw hung open in concentration.
Gerard wrapped his arms around the youngers bare chest, rested his cheek on the warm skin of his back and fiddling with the draw string on Frank’s flannelette pyjama’s. The stayed like this for a long while; Frank tending to his various injuries and Gerard just listening to his heartbeat.
“We are doing the right thing… aren’t we?” Gerard mumbled.
It was silent for but a moment.
Frank turned around, but kept their bodies pressed together. He mushed their lips together, tasting the blood that spread across his tongue from Gerard’s split lip.
“Yes, yes we are Gerard. We are changing the world. Just like I said I would when we first met” Frank smiled softly “We are going to unite the world and there will be no more class warfare or racism… and we can finally get married. When the world uses the power of love to stop the love of power only then will there be peace”
“We are fighters Gerard. And baby we are going to fight until the very end”
Gerard grinned, leaning his forehead against Frank’s their bloody breath mingling because no matter how many broken bones and arrests this world was going to get healed. Because, humanity Gerard decided, was still good.
Fuck capitalism. Occupy the world. And let’s revolutionize this bitch.
A/N: It is a sad day in Australia today. Tony Abbott is the new fucking Prime Minister. Fucking capitalist, fascist mother fucker. So mad, so MAD!
The bit in bold is from the live version of Underground Network by Anti Flag, they are a jamming band, the title is also theirs.
DISCLAIMER: The views expressed in this are MINE, I do not know if either Gerard or Frank even remotely feel like this. It is a fictitious piece of writing to make me feel better about Tony Abbott about to be anal fucking Australia… Jesus Christ.
The masses swelled. Moved and breathed as one. Gerard looked around at the sea of Guy Fawkes masks around him, adjusting his own and giving his companions hand a tight squeeze. Frank squeezed right back and his eyes smiled. Gerard’s ears rang, his voice was raw, his feet ached and his arm stiff from holding the sign above his head; loud and proud it read ‘I AM FIGHTING FOR FREEDOM! WE ARE PEOPLE NOT STATISTICS! FUCK CAPITALISM! OCCUPY!’
Frank and Gerard meet at a rally protesting sending troops over to Iraq. Frank was atop a literal soap box, megaphone painted like a huge mouth, screaming at the top of his lungs.
“WE CAN SAVE THE WORLD! WE JUST HAVE TO STOP FIGHTING OURSELVES! WE ARE NOT WEAPONS! WE WILL NOT DIE FOR OUR GOVERNMENT!” He was sweaty and raw and only seventeen but he was beautiful.
Gerard was at the rally with a few of his friends from SVA, brandishing his handmade ‘stop the madness’ shirt. When he finally caught Franks’ eye he couldn’t look away, nor could Frank apparently. He spent the rest of his speech eyes locked with Gerard’s, as though he was preaching to solely him.
“I can do it, you know” Frank cornered Gerard after clambering off his makeshift podium “I can change the world”
Gerard liked this kind of spirit in people, he smiled.
“I haven’t a doubt in my mind” he returned “I’m Gerard”
“Frank” his face was stretched into a devilish grin.
“Just take a look around this country; just take a look around this world. All we get is neo fascists, right-wing fucking propaganda. It's not our media, it's their fucking media. Raise your voice, stand together, raise your fist, TELL THE TRUTH!”
The crowd roared and screamed.
“TELL THE TRUTH! TELL THE TRUTH!” thousands of voices united, stuck on repeat. Desperate to be heard.
“RIOT POLICE!” a lone voice shrieked, somehow getting across to the pack.
The only time an actual riot happened was when the riot police started one.
Suddenly the vortex of people was crushing. Gerard’s chest was tight, he could barely breathe, but he never let go of Frank’s hand; he never had and never would.
Being in a riot, Gerard figured, was like being in a really intense mosh pit. Except instead of people enjoying themselves, feeling the music, they were running scared, trying to escape the governments poison clutches.
The screams were no longer discernable slogans, only bloody whimpers. The sound of beating down on skin and bones crunching. Gerard was frantic, his sweaty grip nearly slipping from Franks as the pushed their way out of the organism of protesters and police. He could already smell of the pepper spray, hear the cries and sobs, the sirens and fuck you’s.
They had nearly reached the edge of the street and Gerard got a gulp of fresh air before Frank stopped dead in his tracks. He yanked Gerard back to his side.
“FUCKING PIG!” He choked out.
In front of them a woman lay curled around his pregnant stomach, sobbing violently, face a mess of blood and spit as the masked police officer brought his baton down on her again and again. Blood seeped through her ‘I want my baby to have a future that won’t be sold for profit’ shirt.
“Get the fuck off her, you piece of shit bacon rind” Gerard spat out, Frank’s fist already swung back, ready to punch.
“Step away sirs. Or be prepared to arrested” The officer only stopping his lashings to reach for his gun and raise his hand towards the pair.
“Bite me you piece of shit” Frank launched himself at the pig “SHE WASN’T EVEN RESITING! WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS FUCKING COUNTRY?” Frank kicked and punched with every syllable. Before long the pig’s club connected with Frank’s jaw, his knee with Frank’s ribcage bringing the smaller to his knees. In a flash the officer gun was pressed in the back of Frank’s skull, his head bowed, jaw a jumble of shattered bones and blood.
“Get the fuck away from him” Gerard gritted out through clenched teeth.
:X:
Gerard gently rubbed his left wrist coloured with blue and purple, he and Frank had spent the majority of the night on the sidewalk out 1st street, handcuffed together.
“Fucking pigs” he mumbled “Man I am never going to get a job with my arrest record” he joked as he made his way into the tiny, ever so slightly claustrophobic bathroom.
Frank was leaning over the sink, dabbing a damp wash cloth to the angry gash on his forehead, his mangled jaw hung open in concentration.
Gerard wrapped his arms around the youngers bare chest, rested his cheek on the warm skin of his back and fiddling with the draw string on Frank’s flannelette pyjama’s. The stayed like this for a long while; Frank tending to his various injuries and Gerard just listening to his heartbeat.
“We are doing the right thing… aren’t we?” Gerard mumbled.
It was silent for but a moment.
Frank turned around, but kept their bodies pressed together. He mushed their lips together, tasting the blood that spread across his tongue from Gerard’s split lip.
“Yes, yes we are Gerard. We are changing the world. Just like I said I would when we first met” Frank smiled softly “We are going to unite the world and there will be no more class warfare or racism… and we can finally get married. When the world uses the power of love to stop the love of power only then will there be peace”
“We are fighters Gerard. And baby we are going to fight until the very end”
Gerard grinned, leaning his forehead against Frank’s their bloody breath mingling because no matter how many broken bones and arrests this world was going to get healed. Because, humanity Gerard decided, was still good.
Fuck capitalism. Occupy the world. And let’s revolutionize this bitch.
A/N: It is a sad day in Australia today. Tony Abbott is the new fucking Prime Minister. Fucking capitalist, fascist mother fucker. So mad, so MAD!
The bit in bold is from the live version of Underground Network by Anti Flag, they are a jamming band, the title is also theirs.
DISCLAIMER: The views expressed in this are MINE, I do not know if either Gerard or Frank even remotely feel like this. It is a fictitious piece of writing to make me feel better about Tony Abbott about to be anal fucking Australia… Jesus Christ.
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