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Unholyverse by bexless (NC-17)
Fandom: BANDOM
Pairing: Frank/Gerard, Mikey/Ray
Length: 177,570 words (+ 9,760 in codas)
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
bexless
Author Website: Strange Delight
Why this must be read:
The first part of this three part epic is very loosely based on the movie Stigmata. Frank is the guy that's been inflicted with stigmata, his best friend Mikey's older brother Gerard is a priest and a investigator for the the Vatican, and together with the rest of Frank's work mates, Brian, Bob, and Ray, they manage to figure out the mystery and save Frank's life. In part two this mismatched group continues to save lives and help make people's life better but the personal cost to the characters is mounting and it all comes to a head in part three.
This story is first class in all aspects, it's got a plot that is scary and intense and heartbreaking and completely absorbing, characters that are vivid and well-rounded and completely believable, I've never seen group dynamics and interpersonal conflicts handled better, and the dialogue is to die for - spanning from deeply meaningful religious discussions to hilarious banter and gallows humour. The happy ending isn't perfect - it couldn't be after what they've gone through - but it's deeply satisfying.
Excerpt from the story:
There was a split second pause between the impact and the pain, like getting hit with something heavy, all the breath knocking out of him and then the air rushed back into his lungs and his back was on fire.
"What the fuck," he choked out, and then he couldn't talk anymore, because he was screaming.
The blows came one after the other, never enough time between them for Frank to get his breath. He could barely breathe anyway - there was something on the back of his head, someone holding him down, he could feel their fingers digging into his scalp, keeping him there, pushing his face deep into the mattress. The pain was like nothing Frank had ever felt before; not coming from inside him but down onto him, heavy and sharp and so big, striking him from shoulders to knees, up and down, again and again and again. He tried to turn over, tried to get enough purchase in the sheets to pull himself away, to get away from it but there was that hand on his head and his wrists were tied, he could feel it now, feel the rope cutting into his flesh whenever he twisted and pulled and tried to get free.
He could hear Mikey, hear him yelling Frank's name and Frank thought, 'shit, shit, Mikey, get out of here' but then another blow fell between his shoulder blades and he felt his skin tear with a bright, wet flash, like being slit open with a knife and peeled.
It didn't stop. It still didn't stop, he was bleeding and they were still beating him, they were going to take off his fucking skin. The pain wasn't like a wave or like anything he'd ever read about, it was just constant, it just went on and on and on, he was drowning in it, it was filling up his nose and ears and mouth and getting inside him, he could feel it everywhere, there was nowhere to go. He tried to call out, tried to beg for them to stop, but his voice was muffled by the mattress and clogged with tears, his throat hoarse from screaming and the noises he could make were lost under these sounds he could hear, these sounds like hundreds of people murmuring to each other.
'How can they watch this?', he thought, and then, 'they hate me', and then a blow fell with a sick, sharp thud right under his ear, and he felt the darkness rushing up to meet him and fell gratefully inside.
When he woke up, it was to Mikey's face, white and tear-stained and striped all down one side with blood.
"Shit," Frank croaked, his throat dry and raw. "Mikey, did they hurt you? Did they hurt you?"
Mikey shook his head. He was holding Frank's hand.
"Are they gone?" Frank managed, carefully not looking at the red sheets under his arm. They were white before.
Mikey shook his head again. His mouth was pressed into a tight, pale line, like he was trying not to throw up or cry out or something.
Frank took a few deep, slow breaths, fighting his own battle not to throw up all over the bed. "Mikey, what is it? Are they still here? Who was it?"
"It wasn't anyone," Mikey said eventually, in a tiny voice Frank could barely hear. "Frankie, it wasn't anyone."
"What do you mean?"
"There was nobody here," Mikey said, his voice cracking. "It was - you were screaming, and you were jerking around everywhere and then, and then you were bleeding, and there was nobody here."
Main story: I Have Been All Things Unholy & Staring Through the Demons & Heaven Help Us
Codas: During Working Hours & Turning Point
This entry contains links to podfic of part one as well as assorted fanart and fanmixes
That was my last effort for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
crack_van this month. I hope you've managed to find something worth reading among the stories I've recced.
Pairing: Frank/Gerard, Mikey/Ray
Length: 177,570 words (+ 9,760 in codas)
Author on LJ:
bexlessAuthor Website: Strange Delight
Why this must be read:
The first part of this three part epic is very loosely based on the movie Stigmata. Frank is the guy that's been inflicted with stigmata, his best friend Mikey's older brother Gerard is a priest and a investigator for the the Vatican, and together with the rest of Frank's work mates, Brian, Bob, and Ray, they manage to figure out the mystery and save Frank's life. In part two this mismatched group continues to save lives and help make people's life better but the personal cost to the characters is mounting and it all comes to a head in part three.
This story is first class in all aspects, it's got a plot that is scary and intense and heartbreaking and completely absorbing, characters that are vivid and well-rounded and completely believable, I've never seen group dynamics and interpersonal conflicts handled better, and the dialogue is to die for - spanning from deeply meaningful religious discussions to hilarious banter and gallows humour. The happy ending isn't perfect - it couldn't be after what they've gone through - but it's deeply satisfying.
Excerpt from the story:
There was a split second pause between the impact and the pain, like getting hit with something heavy, all the breath knocking out of him and then the air rushed back into his lungs and his back was on fire.
"What the fuck," he choked out, and then he couldn't talk anymore, because he was screaming.
The blows came one after the other, never enough time between them for Frank to get his breath. He could barely breathe anyway - there was something on the back of his head, someone holding him down, he could feel their fingers digging into his scalp, keeping him there, pushing his face deep into the mattress. The pain was like nothing Frank had ever felt before; not coming from inside him but down onto him, heavy and sharp and so big, striking him from shoulders to knees, up and down, again and again and again. He tried to turn over, tried to get enough purchase in the sheets to pull himself away, to get away from it but there was that hand on his head and his wrists were tied, he could feel it now, feel the rope cutting into his flesh whenever he twisted and pulled and tried to get free.
He could hear Mikey, hear him yelling Frank's name and Frank thought, 'shit, shit, Mikey, get out of here' but then another blow fell between his shoulder blades and he felt his skin tear with a bright, wet flash, like being slit open with a knife and peeled.
It didn't stop. It still didn't stop, he was bleeding and they were still beating him, they were going to take off his fucking skin. The pain wasn't like a wave or like anything he'd ever read about, it was just constant, it just went on and on and on, he was drowning in it, it was filling up his nose and ears and mouth and getting inside him, he could feel it everywhere, there was nowhere to go. He tried to call out, tried to beg for them to stop, but his voice was muffled by the mattress and clogged with tears, his throat hoarse from screaming and the noises he could make were lost under these sounds he could hear, these sounds like hundreds of people murmuring to each other.
'How can they watch this?', he thought, and then, 'they hate me', and then a blow fell with a sick, sharp thud right under his ear, and he felt the darkness rushing up to meet him and fell gratefully inside.
When he woke up, it was to Mikey's face, white and tear-stained and striped all down one side with blood.
"Shit," Frank croaked, his throat dry and raw. "Mikey, did they hurt you? Did they hurt you?"
Mikey shook his head. He was holding Frank's hand.
"Are they gone?" Frank managed, carefully not looking at the red sheets under his arm. They were white before.
Mikey shook his head again. His mouth was pressed into a tight, pale line, like he was trying not to throw up or cry out or something.
Frank took a few deep, slow breaths, fighting his own battle not to throw up all over the bed. "Mikey, what is it? Are they still here? Who was it?"
"It wasn't anyone," Mikey said eventually, in a tiny voice Frank could barely hear. "Frankie, it wasn't anyone."
"What do you mean?"
"There was nobody here," Mikey said, his voice cracking. "It was - you were screaming, and you were jerking around everywhere and then, and then you were bleeding, and there was nobody here."
Main story: I Have Been All Things Unholy & Staring Through the Demons & Heaven Help Us
Codas: During Working Hours & Turning Point
This entry contains links to podfic of part one as well as assorted fanart and fanmixes
That was my last effort for the
crack_van this month. I hope you've managed to find something worth reading among the stories I've recced.
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