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i-smoke-chapstick · 2 months

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'COME ON EILEEN!, [PART TWO]

-GOTHAM!VICTOR ZSASZ X READER-

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; Victor and reader have an...interesting day out.

⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!victor x female reader. This is a 4 part fic. AGE GAP ROMANCE! (reader is still in highschool). Victor and reader bantering. Victor falling in love too fast (subtly). Slowburn. Victor is confused. Soft Victor. Like, you're his world. You just don't know it. Set during season 1. Reader becoming more villainous by the minute.

⋆ 'PART ONE, - 'PART TWO, - 'PART THREE, - 'PART FOUR,

♫ “Oh I swear, at this moment, you mean everything.” Come On Eileen by Dexys Midnight Runners

When all your restraints were undone, you made it a point to refocus your breathing. Falcone had walked out the room ages ago after shaking your hand. The rest of your ropes were undone by Victor himself, who looked at you. He analyzed your every move. It almost reminded you of how Jim did that day.

Victor wasn't rough undoing them, which you were thankful for. He seemed aloof, like his mind was elsewhere. Careless. You didn't speak a word while he undid them.

You're still terrified. The man is pointing a gun at you, though he's not very alert. It seems to be some sort of precaution.

His eyes were unblinking as he took a mental note of every single detail on your facial appearance. The wrinkles, the scars, the birth-marks, everything he could see was analyzed.

Once he finished his short routine of observing you, he looked thoughtful. A few moments went by as his eyes were glued to your face. Then with a quick glance up, he finally spoke,

"Hi."

You blink at him. "...Hi."

It's awkwardly silent, and you finally stand up, stretching your legs. You feel your pockets for your phone.

You begin to panic when you can't find it.

You look toward Victor, and to your vague intrigue, he has your phone in his gloved hand that wasn't occupied with a pistol.

He's lazily scrolling. How the hell did he unlock it?

"Mr. Zsasz, um. Hi. Uh, can I have my phone?" You manage to squeak out. He pays you no mind. "...Victor."

He is still scrolling, and the invasion of privacy is a bit much for you.

"What's that? I wasn't listening." He mumbles, seemingly preoccupied. You attempt to hover your way behind him to get a glimpse at what he's doing on your phone, but each way you move, he turns effortlessly with the gun.

You sigh. "Give me the phone and I'll tell you were Maroni's men are." You try, but you sound small.

"Uh-huh." He nods, absentmindedly. "You're gonna tell me anyways." He just waves you off.

...He's right. You are gonna tell him anyways, unless you want to die a gruesome death.

Your stomach crunches when you realize you are going to go on a job with him. What, a stake-out? Your gonna first hand witness him murder a whole group of men with his little assassin army of hot women. Okay, cool. You huff. You don't even realize why you're presence is needed for this operation.

He seems to be waiting for you to tell him the information. He's in no hurry, lounging around the living room and sitting himself on the armrest of a couch. Can't he at least sit normally?!?!?!

You sit in silence for a few minutes, but your antsy. Your fighting with yourself, stalling for time. You hope a miracle happens and Jim Gordan magically crashes through the door to save you, but you know he won't.

Him continuing to browse through your phone makes you antsy. You have your parents numbers and addresses on there. He could be looking at photos of you and your friends- making mental notes of who to torture! You finally cave.

"The guy who works for Maroni is named Ricardo Ricci," You speak, and he perks his head up. "They all get together at this warehouse by the docks. It's on other biker gang territories, so they meet after hours. They never leave a trace of there presence. Perfect cover up."

He stares at you, before slowly nodding his head. He lowers the gun, and sloppily throws you the phone. You catch it, seeing Candy Crush opened. So that's what he was doing. You let out a soft, frustrated scoff.

He moves to stand up, and you furrow your brows. In a second, he's grabbing your hand. "Where are you-" You ask, but he cuts you off.

"We have a job to do. That's where we are going."

"Yeah, well, no shit. But they don't get together until night time-"

"...So?" He looks at you like your stupid. "Let's get a milkshake."

For a moment, you think this cannot be the same man Jim Gordon described as a sadistic homicidal maniac. Before you know it, you're getting pulled by your arm.

He was true to his word, he got a milkshake for himself. He offered to get you one too, but you refused.

You two sit on a rooftop above the docks. His legs dangle over the edge while he drinks. He set up a sniper rifle next to him.

The whole time, he's kept a gun pointed in your direction. You have your phone, but just your luck, it's on 1%. You think about texting someone, but by now you've realized it's futile. You assume that was his plan.

It's still daylight outside. You two have spoken not a single word to one another. Your still utterly confused as to why Falcone required you to come with him, instead of just making some other goons watch over you until the job was done.

The awkward silence simmers and the two of you watch the city. You find it in yourself to sit next to him, letting your legs dangle.

"Falcone's right, y'know." He finally drawls. "You don't know how special you are."

You look at him, and the gun pointed casually at you. You shrug.

"I'm just a highschooler."

"A highschooler who somehow knows everyone's secrets." He hums. You pause.

"Yeah. I guess. Everything everyone tells me is mostly bullshit, though."

"So...it's on a whim you're getting killers caught left and right?" He remarks, turning to meet your eye. It's the first time he's done so since your first conversation.

You stay silent at this.

"I didn't plan for any of this to happen." Whispering, you find yourself being oddly vulnerable. The gun pointed at you reminds you this could be the day you die. He watches you pout.

He stares at you for a long moment, as he slowly nods to himself. His look softens a little bit, before he breaks the brief moment of silence that just passed between the two of you.

"You're pretty damn lucky then."

He says, with an amused tone. You stare at him incredulously.

"Lucky? I've probably snitched on like, half of Gotham's underworld to Jim Gordon. I've got a gun pointed at me. It's a miracle I haven't been killed yet." You say, fidgeting.

"Exactly," he purses his lips. "...Nobodies managed to get you. That's what I like to call being damn lucky."

"Falcone got me." You remind him.

"...True." Victor states with a slight grin as he shrugs in agreement. Almost as if he's prideful in his boss. "But Falcone has been careful not to harm you, hasn't he?"

"There's a gun in your hand pointed at me. I'm sitting on top of a building with THE Victor Zsasz, about to dive head first alone into a shoot out. Which- by the way, is insane. I thought you'd bring some of your girlfriends with you." You sneer, referencing the zsaszettes.

This illicits a snicker out of him.

"Uh, first things first, those are called hench-women. Get it right," He jokes dryly, looking at you with a feigned duh expression. He raises the drink up to his mouth and takes a long sip of it. You roll your eyes.

"And second, I couldn't possibly bring any of my ladies. Not on a job like this. This is a two-person job at most. Easy peasy." He seems confident- you let out a humorless laugh.

"You do know I don't know how to shoot, right?" You stare at him bewildered.

He waves you off.

"It's really easy." He assures you, with a calm smirk and a hint of slow sarcasm in his voice. "You take this here-" He stands up, setting the gun pointed at you down. He makes his way to the sniper rifle set up next to the two of you, and he raises the gun up for you see.

"You aim it at what you wanna shoot..." He demonstrates by pointing the scope at a stop sign from afar. "And then you pull this little sucker here." He says, as he pulls the trigger. His accuracy is remarkable as he hits the stop-sign dead center, and a you hear the pang of the bullet hitting the metal surface.

You watch him, slack-jawed.

"You expect me to do that?"

"Nah...but I expect you to learn." He states, simply.

I look up at the sky, it's still daylight. "What, in a few hours? Are you crazy?"

"Oh come on, it's not that hard." He says, as he gestures to the gun he left next to you. "We'll start small. You can learn everything about this gun in under an hour. That's a .45 caliber pistol. It packs a punch and if I were you, I'd get a feel for it as soon as possible."

You look down at the gun. He's right. Oh, this is your last chance at survival. You're probably gonna die. "…Show me." I whisper, picking up the gun in your hand. It feels incredibly foreign, heavier than you thought it would be.

Victor looks at you with a slight raise of his eyebrows. He seems surprised at your sudden decision.

"Well...Ok." He replies, before deciding to put on the instructor hat.

"Here, first rule; Always keep your finger off the trigger unless you intend to shoot. The first thing you wanna do is make sure the chamber is clear, which means its got nothing loaded in it, kay?"

He demonstrates by pulling a pistol from his suit jacket you didn't even realize he had, then ejecting the magazine, racking the slide to throw out the bullet that had been chambered. He catches it in his fingers. He does it with such ease you scrunch your eyebrows.

"Yeah- okay, that's not happening." You mumble. "Just teach me how to shoot."

Victor looks at you, with a feigned look of disappointment. But he decides it's easier to agree.

"Alright, so, first thing you wanna do is stand with both feet on the ground and have this arm here extended out like this." He demonstrates the position, coming up behind you. You poorly imitate it.

"...Then you wanna bring your other arm here-" He shows you how to position your arm holding the gun. You feel the warmth of his gloved hands on your arms, and struggle to focus.

He's talking down to you like a child.

You breathe a shaky breath as he instructs you, you can smell him. Expensive cologne and gun powder.

"There." He says, and snaps back off of you instantly, as to not mess with your perfet position. "Go."

You press the trigger, and a bullet comes out. It's not smooth- the kickback nearly sends you flying, and Victor doesn't see you damn near fall on your ass. He's too busy paying attention to where the bullet manages to land.

Not dead center, but certainly close enough to where his sniper bullet was left on the stop sign.

He let's out a low and long wolf whistle, and a crooked smile blooms on his face. Before you know it, you're getting picked up from the ground by him. You assume even the sound of a gun being fired gets him pumped.

And...strangely enough, you feel it too. The adrenaline. It courses through you like a drug, and you give a loud giggle of excitement.

You jump up and down, closing your eyes like a kid in a candy store.

"Oh, hell yes!!!" You cheer for yourself, proud. You're fist pumping the air, hands thrown up as you jump.

When you look back at him with a thrilled smile, you finally notice.

He's looking at you like you're the only girl in the world.

You let your breathing settle down.

"Again?" You ask, hopeful. You can't explain it; but your grateful to be a good something. Something other than an informant.

He doesn't respond, but the smirk on his face is enough. He twirls his index finger in an "again," motion, agreeing with you, before the two of you reposition yourselves.

You two do this routine for what seems like hours, losing track of time. Eventually, you get the hang of it, absorbing the kickback with ease.

And somewhere along the way, you stop picturing a stop sign, and start picturing Jim Gordon.

The darkness of Gotham clouds over the two of you, and you vaguely remember how it looked that night, running from school.

Your arms are tired from holding the pistol. He even let you have a go at the sniper rifle, to which you failed miserably. Neither of you seemed to mind though, laughing it off.

You two now sit together in the hovering darkness, back to your original position, legs dangling over the edge of the building. He goes to sip his milkshake, realizing it's empty. Okay, so you maybe had a few sips when he wasn't paying attention. Is that an indirect kiss? You brush the thoughts out of your head.

You break the silence, that has now transformed into something more comfortable.

"...You think I could become an assassin?" You ask, under your breath. Your eyes have drifted to the city lights below.

Unbeknownst to you, Victor hasn't been able to take his eyes off you for hours. And now is no exception. He stares at you softly.

His silence is long. Long enough that you're certain your question struck a nerve. It's disconcerting.

"...You're young." Finally, he answers. The gun that was previously held to you is now long forgotten, stuffed into his holster. His voice is quiet, almost as if he's speaking to himself. "Maybe, maybe you could be. It's a good job."

Your eyes light up. It's the first time you feel seen. The first time someone has agreed with you, that you could do more. Jim never did that.

"Yeah?" You speak with a child-like wonder, thoughts racing.

He glances at you; you can't help but feel watched under his gaze. He nods, his face suddenly looking uncannily vulnerable and confused.

"Yeah." He responds quietly, before taking time to digest what he said.

#x reader #gotham #gotham x reader #batman #batman rogues #batman x reader #gotham villains x reader #batman rouges gallery #dc comics #victor zsasz x reader #gotham victor zsasz #victor zsasz headcanons #victor zsasz gotham #victor zsasz

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idontcarejustletmelive · 7 months

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Bad Movie Decisions

Monstrous (2022)

This one scores lower than I'd usually accept on IMDB (4.7) but it's Christina Ricci- how bad can it be? As ever, spoilers may follow...

Guess based purely upon the blurb: the monster is the husband or CR herself.

00:18 It's a Chicken Soup for the Soul production. Strap in, folks.

01:34 CR is the monster. 100%.

02:29 I admire the ambition to make a period piece. If the twist is it isn't in the 50s, I'm going to kick off.

03:14 The kid's a little creepy weirdo, but I'm gonna assume that's a red herring.

03:50 "He's buried in there somewhere." to describe a kid allegedly sleeping in the back seat... Kid's dead, she killed him, movie solved. If this is what we're dealing with perhaps this one deserves the rating...

05:54 She said the house is like a dream and now they're playing Mr Sandman. 🤔

06:26 And now a mysterious black and white photo of a beautiful woman. This is ticking all the Bad Movie Decisions boxes.

08:54 I should buy a dress with underskirts. They look great.

09:35 It's Cody's real mum! Cody's real mum is an evil mermaid!

12:33 This whole thing feels like Charlie trying to tell Mac and Dennis the plot of a movie he half remembers and fully didn't understand in Always Sunny.

16:50 I'm not generally an advocate for putting kids on sun beds, but

18:39 " Goodnight, sweet prince". Isn't that generally what you say to people who are dying? 🤔🤔

20:11 A rip in the previously spotless sofa? Almost like the house's appearance is... a dream? 🤔🤔🤔

21:40 Well is this monster water or smoke? Make up your mind, film!

23:45 Witchy Grandma wishing she could take a young CR 'back to a simpler time' while they're both wearing suspiciously era-agnostic clothing.

27:55 If the boy is dead/imagined/whatever we should NOT be getting this much of his POV.

28:45 Now the monster's a raggy zombie thing?

30:20 Tentacles now?!

40:19 Her magazines are mysteriously spotted with age despite being new? What in the Shutter Island could this possibly mean?! 🫨

44:43 Everyone thinks they can make The Babadook, but not enough people stop to ask themselves if they should.

53:18 How stupid does this film think we are?

1:07:23 Very stupid, apparently.

1:11:09 WHY DID WE GET SO MUCH OF THE KID'S POV? WHY DO PEOPLE NO LONGER UNDERSTAND BASIC NARRATIVE CONCEPTS?!

1:17:13 Christina Ricci and the kid are both doing a fantastic job here. Nothing wrong with what they're doing at all. It's just everything else.

1:19:21 All right, just leave it at that film, and we can salvage something from all this.

1:21:55 Okay, so you could see the twist from space (just once I'd like to be wrong about these things) but they at least showed restraint at the end not spelling out every detail in excruciating depth. That alone deserves a few brownie points. I'd say 4.7 is close, but it has enough merit to take it to a solid 5, putting it firmly in the BMD sweet spot.

*Pats film gently* That'll do film. That'll do.

#badmoviedecisions #monstrous #christina ricci #horror #filmblr

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ellarisms · 3 years

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Hooked On the Scene

Book: Laws Of Attraction (Choices)

Pairing: Gabe Ricci x Ally Larson (f!MC)

Rating & Warning/s: T - alcohol consumption, suggestive themes

Category: fluff

Summary: Gabe and Ally go to a Masquerade ball - as a couple.

Word Count: 2,000+

Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. Characters are owned by Pixelberry Studios.

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There were only 4 hours left before the event began.

Gabe and Ally had been invited by his parents to a ball. The invitation came out as a surprise to them both, but they ultimately decided to accept it.

He didn't need much to convince her to go with him. It was not a new environment for Ally and she agreed to attend; Gabe knew that she could handle it.

Ally stood before the gown she’d be in later - its beauty allured her. Added with her black heels, she could only imagine how she was going to look wearing it, with her at Gabe’s side, both of them playing the role of a power couple.

She couldn’t wait to see his reaction being that what they’d wear would be a surprise for each other. His jaw is gonna drop to the floor, she thought.

Settled on her bed, her mind wandered around what would happen in the future and ended up thinking about his partner, Gabe Ricci. Gabriel Ricci - the man that swept her up her feet and reminded her of her passions. They have since figured out each obstacle together and would continue to do so. Now, she thought of how they managed to thrive and be stronger against the odds.

Just then, her phone rang beside her, interrupting her reverie.

Gabe was walking through the hallways of the mall, his eyes blinded momentarily by the amount of light it had. Most of the occasions he went through with Ally had gone flawlessly in the past, and he wasn’t about to tarnish that record. His thought process was that he’ll probably forget one thing. And when he thinks everything is already perfect, that one thing reveals itself, and suddenly everything falls apart at the last minute. And then panic comes for him.

Thankfully for Gabe, it wasn’t the last minute - he was four hours ahead.

He called Ally as he walked. This is on you, Gabe. And you alone. Not her, you. She picked up. “Hey,” he muttered.

“Hey. What's up?”

Gabe was relieved upon hearing her voice. He didn’t realize how much he missed listening to that voice - the same voice that confronts and comforts him, the one that challenges and soothes him. The one that belonged to her beloved Allegra Larson.

“I… I have to ask you something,” he said lightly, careful not to alarm her.

“Is there something wrong?” she asked, clearly sensing that something had happened. She caught me. But instead of answering her question, he asked, “What color are you wearing tonight?” as he walked inside the store.

“I think answering that would ruin the surprise, Mr. Ricci,” she responded, amused.

My clever girl. “I know. I’m handling something. I just---I really need your color tonight. I will handle it, I promise. You’ll look beautiful.”

“Ugh, fine. It's...rainbow.” Though Gabe couldn’t see her, he knew that she’s smiling, trying to hide the chuckle that attempted to escape her.

“Rainbow, what a peculiar choice. You’d definitely stand out.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Hmm. Seriously, Ally,” he groaned, demanding a proper answer.

“Okay! It's red,” she reluctantly said, defeated.

Ally in red? He can already picture her in his mind. She and the color red had always gone well together in the past, and he knew she’d look more beautiful wearing it tonight. How she manages to get better he doesn’t know, but he never complains about it. “Red is perfect,” he claimed, seemingly having gotten what he was looking for.

“Boo,” she protested, which made him smile as always.

“Alright, I gotta go. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

He hung up the call as the store clerk handed him a bag. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, Mr. Ricci.”

Ally tossed her phone on her bed, harder than she had intended. “Shall we get ready?” she muttered to herself. She took a deep breath and looked up. “We shall.”

Ally put up the finishing touches on her look. She stared at her bathroom mirror, grabbed her purse, then slipped her feet onto her shoes.

Just as she was done, a series of knocks echoed through her apartment. Her heart suddenly beat faster, anticipating Gabe. It made the preparations she made feel real in a flash.

“Coming!”

Feeling sufficiently confident, she walked to the door and peeked behind it. Sure enough, Gabe stood by the threshold waiting for her.

“Hi.” Gabe greeted her, shy and nervous.

With a small smile, she replied, “about time you pick me up, Ricci.”

Gabe flashed a dashing smile, prim as ever with his neatly arranged hair, black suit, black long sleeve polo, and a white tie.

Ally opened the door fully and seeing her at length made him speechless. Ally was wearing the off-shoulder sleeved fiery red evening gown, red dangle earrings with touches of black, and her hair was styled in a loose braided bun. It was a look perfectly fit for her.

Silence slipped its way between them as they drank in the sight of each other.

She caressed his cheek and felt the light stubble that had grown there. “Ah, my man. Handsome as ever.” She smiled gently at him.

Gabe finally spoke, realizing that he had been fantasizing about her. “I--- Wow. You look stunning. My imagination doesn’t do your beauty justice.”

Called it. “Oh, pick your jaw off the floor. You clean up nicely yourself.” She smirked and emphasized her statement by making her eyes slowly travel up and down his body. Then, noticing it for the first time, Ally looked at the pouch that Gabe was holding then looked at him in question.

He saw her look. “I told you I'd handle it. I know you well enough,” he said with an all-knowing smirk. It made her chuckle.

“It’s a masquerade ball,” Gabe clarified. Inside the pouch were two masquerade masks. He took one out and offered it to her. It was a black mask, decorated with ornate details of reds all around it, complete with a flower and a feather on one side. Ally was impressed. “Turn around. I’ll put it on you.”

Ally obliged, turning around. Gabe put the mask in front of her face, and she held it as he tied it in place. She looked at the nearest mirror in the room and stared at her reflection. “Hm. Not bad,” she laughed.

“Something amusing?” asked Gabe as he tied his. Like hers, his mask was black, but it was decorated with symmetrical silver detailing.

She turned around and saw that he had already tied his mask.

They shared a smile and gazed into each other's eyes.

“Shall we?” Gabe offered his hand. Ally accepted it.

Driving to the venue was a breeze. They had small talk but otherwise the journey was quiet. Being new to this “relationship thing,” as they like to call it, kept them still nervous despite knowing each other for a long while.

They were both idiots when it comes to love, an evident contrast to them being a brilliant power couple when it comes to the law.

The two stood by the entrance of the ballroom and looked inside.

“Are you ready?” asked Gabe.

“I might be getting cold feet. But, I mean, do I have a choice?” she answered ever so casually.

Gabe stared at her. “Really? I thought you said you could handle one night with all these entitled wealthy people,” he remarked with sarcasm.

She turned to face him. “Hey! I’m kidding! I’m kidding. I am as ready...as I can be. As long as you’re with me.”

“Nah, you can handle ‘em all too well on your own.”

“Ah. You’re right, thanks for reminding me. But it doesn't hurt to have you by my side and tell me how great I’m doing,” she winked.

“Yes, I will be with you, so we’ll handle them together.”

The tension finally passed.

“We’re gonna be the hottest couple in the room,” she sighed as she looked back at it.

They both laughed and shook their heads, and felt resolved. They have done this in the office, and nothing stopped them from doing it there.

“Okay, let's do this.” Gabe was determined.

They entered the ballroom.

The room was already buzzing with activity as they marched inside. They heard indistinct conversations all around the place. Soft classical music played in the background. The air everywhere was filled with glamour.

The ballroom has affluence written all over it and was ornate - thoroughly detailed down to the smallest things.

“They went all out, huh?” Ally observed, her expectations for the ball surpassed. She was stunned by this one, a rare occasion as she had gone to many balls in the past and was surrounded by them growing up.

“That’s my family for you.” He was as impressed as her.

A waiter approached them amid their walk.

“Champagne, Ally?”

“Please. I need it.”

“Heh. Same.” Gabe took two flutes and thanked the waiter. Offering the glass to her, he toasted, “to a night we’ll never forget.”

They clinked their glasses and sipped their drink alongside one another.

The ball had gone as planned, or at least that’s what they thought. Ally had learned a lot more things about Gabe and his family - as he was, after all, on good terms with them.

She and Gabe were introduced to many of the attendees; their encounters were mostly pleasant and some otherwise.

They were relieved as the night went on flawlessly. But before it is wrapped up, Gabe wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to dance with Ally.

***

“It's the last one, the dance floor is open. May I have this dance?”

“Why, yes, you may.”

Ally accepted his hand and they went towards the middle of the room, in harmony with the song. It was as if the two of them were the only ones there. They circled each other, staring into each other’s eyes through their masks, neither of them revealing any emotion with the grave facade they both wore.

When the right moment came, their hands finally touched.

They were elevated by the amount of alcohol they’ve had, but weren't intoxicated and were able to start dancing with grace.

For a while, they settled with Gabe’s hand holding hers, the other on her waist. Ally's other hand however was on his shoulder. The two of them moved, in sync with the soft music.

After a short while of dancing, Ally broke the silence between them.

“We’re a king and a queen. In a dance.”

“Oh, are we now?” Gabe raised a brow, clearly intrigued, as he twirled her.

“It’s a masquerade ball after all. We’re all trying to pretend to be someone we aren’t.”

Gabe smirked. “I didn’t know you dance so well, Queen Allegra.”

“I'm full of surprises. Though... I could say the same to you,” she smirked back at him.

He twirled her and they continued to dance. Their every move was synchronous with each other and the music; people were noticing them, but they only saw each other.

At one point, Ally’s back was at Gabe’s front. They were in a position like that of back hug- Ally’s hands were crossed at her chest and were held by Gabe.

“I could get used to this,” she mused, relaxed against his arms.

“What, are we to dance for the rest of our lives?”

That statement made her freeze momentarily. The rest of our lives? But she was enjoying herself so much that she decided not to make anything of it for now and replied, “I guess I’d like that too. But no, I meant being in your arms.”

His heart skipped a beat with what she said. She’s enjoying the dance. He kissed her head in acknowledgment of her answer.

With the song reaching its climax, they held each other’s cheek with one hand. They moved in a circular motion, their eye contact never breaking just like how it was in the beginning. They were focused on each other, and it prevented them from being dizzy with the movements they made.

Then, they came to a stop and stood closer to each other. He placed her hands on top of his.

“I love you, my queen,” Gabe whispered, proceeding to kiss her hands.

“And I, you, my king.” Ally whispered back, flashing a genuine smile at her partner.

They rested their foreheads against each other as the song approached its end. And then, they both stepped back - he bowed and she curtseyed.

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Author’s Notes: Hello everyone! So I’m still relatively new to the Tumblr fandom and I keep on discovering great blogs. But...here it is! This is my first completed fanfic and also the one I’ll be first posting (Please excuse my errors). Well, I guess this is my first contribution here and to the fandom. :)

@choicesficwriterscreations @lawsofattractionfanfiction

Author’s Notes (2): So I initially wanted to just write a dancing scene but everything else just came to me and... happened. I know the masquerade ball was underwhelming, and I'm sorry for that. this was cringe yes i know

#laws of attraction fanfiction #gabe ricci x mc #gabe ricci #choices fanfiction #playchoices fanfic #playchoices fanfiction #choices fic writers creations #fics of the week #!!! <3

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multiharlot · 4 years

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three inches / s. reid x ex-gang!reader

summary: in which y/n’s past comes back to haunt her.

warnings: mentions of gang activity. cursing, choking, adult themes (winkwink)

masterlist

y/n’s pov

i stared through the glass as carson tapped his fingers on the metal table...carson bonovich. a high profile mobster who was just brought in by organized crimes and has been tied to a missing persons case that our team was currently working on. i fiddled with the diamond ring around my left finger anxiously as i stared at the man i once knew through the double paned window.

“are you okay?” blake asks as she walks up next to me.

“yeah...yeah i’m fine.” i nod.

“are you sure? you only fiddle with your ring when you get anxious.” spencer points out, walking up next to me as he places his hand comfortingly on my back.

i clear my throat, nodding my head and grabbing spencer’s coffee from his hands, taking a sip and giving it back to him.

“yeah. i’m good.” i sigh, turning around and leaning back against the edge of the table..

“alright, i’m going in there.” derek says, standing up from his seat and walking into the interrogation room.

“so, mr. bonov-”

carson holds his hand up and looks up at morgan with a devious smirk on his face.

“i’ll only talk to y/n.”

my body freezes and i feel my fingers go cold as i hear my name leave his lips. the team turns to look at me and my breaths become more and more shallow.

“well sorry, you got me.” morgan quips back, setting sitting down across from him.

as the interrogation continues, carson gives up absolutely nothing. refusing to speak to no one but me. morgan walks back into the room, his eyes immediately meeting mine.

“why would he want to talk to you?” spencer asks, turning to look at me.

“maybe he got our information somehow and he thinks y/n might be the easiest to manipulate.” jj says.

“whatever it is. we can’t send her in there.” derek says shaking his head.

i turn to hotch who just looks at me for a moment before nodding his head.

“he wants to talk to me because we know each other.” i say, standing up and grabbing the file from the table.

“i’m sorry. you know each other?” rossi asks, his eyebrows deeply furrowed.

i sighed, looking back over at hotch who just nods.

“it’s up to you.” he says, and i take a deep breath, turning around and straightening my posture.

“we were...together.” i say, fumbling with the papers in my hands.

“wait...were you in-”

“no. i wasn’t. i met carson when i was 16, he was 18 and according to his file, he had just inherited his fathers quote unquote business. i didn’t know what exactly his line of work was until i was contacted by the bureau...until then, i was just...a girl in love. when i found out the things he had been doing, i packed up all my things, and i left. i met hotch during the investigation and he put me and my family in witsec in exchange for helping organized crime take carson down. but the investigation went cold so i decided to move on with my life. i joined the academy and after i graduated, hotch offered me a place on the team. that’s when i met all of you. i never told you guys because i wanted to throw that part of my life away. i didn’t want to be reminded of it.” i sighed, running my hands over my face.

the team stares blankly at me and no one says a single word to me until spencer walks over, grabbing my hands.

“we’re not angry. we’re just...surprised.” he nods, pulling me in for a hug.

“that still doesn’t explain how exactly he knows you’re here.” morgan says as he places his hands on his hips.

spencer pulls away from me, placing a kiss on my forehead.

“at one point...i was his everything. he would have searched for me and kept tabs on me when he found me. that’s his version of romance.” i scoff.

“it’s up to you in you want to go in there, y/l/n.” hotch says, his face bearing that paternal glare that he always seemed to carry.

i take a deep breath, staring through the glass at the man i once knew before nodding my head. i unclip my holster and my badge, placing them on the table.

“i’ll do it.”

i took another deep breath before walking out of the office, pausing and turning to the group.

“no matter what he does. no matter what he says, you don’t go in there until he gives up the name.” i say, they all give each other timid stares before nodding their heads.

i nod, taking a deep breath and heading into the interrogation room. carson looks up at me, that stupid smirk on his face.

“hello peach.” he says, his thick english accent dripping off of his words.

“carson.” i nod my head, sitting across from him at the table.

“you disappeared on me.” he says courtly, and i shrug.

“and you lied to me for five years” i shrugged, quirking my eyebrow as i slid my jean jacket off of my shoulders.

carson nods his head and i fold my hands on the table, flipping my hair over my shoulder.

“now i just have a couple of que-”

“ah ah. not just yet. what’s that shiny thing?” he asks, waving his finger at my ring.

“oh. oh this? yeah...i’m getting married. does...does that bother you, carson? i’m not asking out of courtesy for you or your feelings. i’m just curious.” i smirk, and he lets out a laugh.

“still a mouthy little thing. tell me darling, you mouth off with him too?” he asks, leaning into the table.

i purse my lips, leaning back in the chair and placing my feet onto the table.

“sometimes. he doesn’t really give me a reason to, though. he’s not like you. but...that was kind of the point.” i chuckled.

he raises his eye brow, standing up from his chair and sliding his hands around the table.

“oh was it?”

i nod, sliding my feet from the table and standing up, meeting his gaze.

“yes. it was. now, if you’ll sit down and-”

“i bet you he’s watching us right now, isn’t he? let me guess, he’s a little agent too?” he glares, scoffing lightly.

“doctor, actually. and he’s uh..not so little. if you catch my drift.” i smirk, and carson growls, placing his hand around my throat and backing me into the glass.

“is he? well, does he know how loudly i made you scream? huh? does he know how you wouldn’t be able to walk after i was done with you?” he shouts.

“go on. he can hear you. tell him. tell him how you used to fuck me right into the mattress. tell him about the bruises you used to leave all over me. tell him exactly how i like it. and while you’re at it, tell him what you did to all those other women too. because i know how it works. i know you fuck them before you ship them out to your buyer. are they as good for you as i was? huh? are they as obedient?” i breathe out as i place my hand on his wrist.

his mouth falls open slightly and his grip around my throat tightens.

“no...they couldn’t ever be as good as you, little girl. you know that.” he says, tracing his finger over my lips.

“does your buyer fuck them? i bet he’s good, huh? he’s probably so nice on the outside. so gentle. but as soon as you close those doors, he’s an absolute monster. he becomes the only man they think about. and you ask them, don’t you? you two have a running wager on who’s the best. because you couldn’t miss out on that, now could you carson? you couldn’t stand the thought of someone being better than you.” i squeeze out as his hold gets tighter and tighter.

“shut up.” he growls.

“i bet...you know what? he’s probably bigger than you too. and that’s why he’s winning the wager. that’s why you’ve been sending cash in the boxes with those girls. because you keep fucking losing. and that’s all you’ll ever be, carson. a loser. and you want to know how i know? i know, because after meeting a winner...i realized just how much i was missing. i can actually tell you how much i was missing...3 more inches. that’s how much.” i smirk, and carson’s vein begin’s popping from his forehead.

“i’m warning you y/n...”

“how much are you falling behind? the doctor’s beating you by three. and the buyer’s beating you by...what, 2? that sounds right. 2 inches. what’s his name? i want you know what it’d sound like if the women you were fucking actually enjoyed it. i want you to hear me scream someone else’s name. that way, you’ll know when it’s real.” i smirk, swiping my tongue across my teeth.

“you’ll never say jessie’s-”

“jessie? oh...oh that’s good. that’s a husband’s name. can you imagine it? y/n and jessie. mr and mrs jessie...what? let me guess, it’s something generic and headstrong. carmichael. russo. wiley. hubatka. lorenzo. espietto. romano. ricci-”

carson’s upper lip twitches and i smile.

“jessie ricci, huh?”

“you fucking-”

the door is then thrown open and carson is pulled off of me. i begin coughing and rubbing my neck and jj wraps her arms around my shoulders. i look up to see a very angry spencer pinning carson down against the table.

“that’s hot, dr. reid.” i smirk.

reid rolls his eyes as he slaps the cuffs onto carson’s wrists and carson narrows his eyes in disgust.

“this fucking guy? are you joking!?” he scoffs.

i just shrug, picking my jacket up off the chair.

“three inches is all the difference, carson.”

jj snorts as she leads me out of the interrogation room and we walk into the office where the team is staring at me wide-eyed.

“who the hell are you?” rossi asks as he stares at me, his mouth slightly gaping.

“morgan and garcia aren’t the only ones with dirty mouths.” i quirk an eyebrow, walking over and grabbing a cup of water to soothe my aching throat.

“...whoever you are, bring her around more. she seems fun.” derek smirks as he throws his arm around my shoulders.

“oh...she is.”

“gross, kid. i said her not you.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #Criminal Minds #criminal minds imagine

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anuschkalova · 5 years

Text

Simply and Sanely PART 8 (Jeremiah x Reader)

A/N: I can’t believe I actually did it, but here it is: chapter 8! 🎉 I’m sorry for the wait. As I was writing this part, I realized how much I’ve missed this series and writing in general. I’m sad that Gotham is over, but I rewatched some episodes and fell in love again. Warning: this chapter is really long! So grab a drink and some snacks, get cozy and enjoy! Also: If you want to support me, I’ll be more than grateful for a cup of coffee! https://ko-fi.com/anniartheart Thank you!❤️

Summary: Y/N gets in trouble and Jeremiah helps her. But little does she know that he drags her into more trouble, making Y/N a part of his plans. Forcing her to enter the dangerous life of Gotham’s underworld.

Pairing: Jeremiah Valeska x Reader Word count: 4,693 Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 🖤Masterlist🖤

Previously:

„Hi!“ He waved with his gun and wore a devious grin. „I’m Victor Zsasz and I’m here to pick you up. The Penguin wants to talk to you.“

The air was burning in your lungs. Every breath was agony, but the pain was evidence of your liveliness, so you gladly endured it. Still coughing, you gathered up the little strength that was left in your trembling body and sat up. You raised your head to look at the black dressed man.

„Alright. Take me to him“, you agreed. Victor titled his head a little, a deep frown on his face. It was then that you noticed his missing eyebrows.

„Well, I was hoping you’d make a fuss. That was too easy“, he almost complained and you mirrored his confusion. „Why?“, you asked.

He casually pointed with his gun towards you. „Wanted to shoot your knee. You know, the pretty ones scream the most.“ Your hand, that had just started to carefully rub your bruised neck, went abruptly still. The familiar craziness in his dark eyes sent shivers down your spine. „Is everyone in this god damn city crazy?“, you mumbled to yourself and Victor grinned.

„Welcome to Gotham, sweet cheeks.“

You just glanced up at the man, too exhausted to be either upset or scared. But you were concerned: the gun, which Selina had given you for protection, was now laying close to Mr. Ricci’s body.

You doubted for Victor’s approval to take the weapon along to Oswald’s meeting, so you had to come up with something. Bending over the dead man, you searched his pockets for anything of value. While you put his wallet and golden rings into your clutch, Victor whistled to express his surprise, as well as admiration. „Tough litte thing. I like you.“ You heard the dull steps of his heavy boots getting closer. Calmly, you snatched the gun and stored it away before the steps stopped behind you.

„Time to go“, he said.

The GCPD Headquarters resembled a sinking ship. There was utter chaos; swarms of equipped police officers rushed out of the building, the telephones kept ringing while short-staffed officers had to deal with worried citizens. One by one, they stormed into the Headquarters and demanded answers.

„Who’s responsible for that?!“ „Are we safe?!“ „Where’s James Gordon? What is he going to do?!“

„There he is!“, someone yelled and pointed up to the first floor. Gordon, who had just ended a phone call with Gotham’s major, stepped out of his office. He clenched his jaw at the sight of the furious mob and walked down the stairs.

„Please, do not panic“, Gordon said and raised both hands calmingly, but it didn’t work. Angry faces stared back at him and someone snorted loudly.

„Not panic? Someone, god knows who, blew up the library and we are supposed to not panic?!“

„I understand you…“, Gordon reassured, „… and we do everything in our power to put the bomber under arrest. As for now, there’s no need for an evacuation. Avoiding public spots and staying home is the safest option.“

Finally, his words seemed to make an impact as people gradually fell silent. Gordon sighed impalpably and waited patiently for further questions - when all of a sudden, he spotted Selina’s face.

The teenage girl barged her way through the crowds, until she reached the front row. „Selina? What are you doing here?“, the commissioner asked, clearly confused.

„I need to talk to you!“, she urged and came to a stand next to Gordon, who frowned.

„If it’s because of the explosion, then…-“

„It has to do with a friend of mine!“, Selina interrupted him. Judging by her tensed expression, the situation seemed rather serious, so Gordon put a hand on her back and took a few steps away from the people.

„What’s your friend’s name?“

„Y/N“, she replied, quick like a shot and Gordon thought he had misheard her. Due to the babel of voices and ringtones, it was not far-fetched and so Gordon asked again: „Your friend’s name is Y/N? Y/L/N?“

Now it was Selina’s turn to frown. „You know her?“

„I talked to her, yes. What is the matter?“

Even though Selina was clearly confused, she wasted no time. „Penguin is looking for her. I don’t know what’s going on, but she’s also involved with this maniac Jeremiah. I saw them having dinner, she asked me for a gun and I gave her one and-“ The more Selina revealed, the more absent Gordon became. He turned away from the girl as his thoughts spun over in his mind.

„Hey!“, Selina called and followed him. „Did you listen to me? Y/N is in serious trouble and we need to help her! Now!“

Luckily, Harvey Bullock walked over to Gordon with a file in his hand and the commissioner intercepted his partner by grabbing the man’s shoulder. „We have to see Oswald. Y/N is more involved than we thought“, Jim informed him, his serious gaze put a frown on Harvey’s face. „The wonderland-lady?“ The detail got Selina’s attention and she pushed herself between the two police officers, making her presence hard to ignore.

„Okay, what’s going on here? Why did you talk to Y/N?“, she demanded. Selina’s almond-shaped eyes stared at Gordon expectantly and the GCPD captain, who was familiar with her stubbornness, sighed.

„Spit it out!“

„She was a witness of a crime scene that involved Jeremiah“, Gordon explained harsher than intended, but Selina didn’t care. The new information left her stunned and a loud snort escaped her lips as she shook her head.

„Wait, so… you knew that she had made contact with that maniac and you did what: nothing?!“

„Selina…“, Gordon tried to allay the upset teenage girl, but failed. Selina just raised her hands to hush him and backed out. „I thought your job was to protect people!“, she exclaimed. Wild flames of anger were roaring deep inside of her, turning her blood into lava. If this green-eyed lunatic laid a finger on you, god have mercy, she would stab him to death.

„Selina, wait!“ Gordon’s attempt to stop her fell on deaf ears. He had no other choice than to watch Selina disappear into the crowd, probably about to do something rash.

„Did she just criticize our way of working?“, Bullock asked offended, but Gordon gritted his teeth and quickly grabbed a pack of ammunition from a colleague’s table.

„Let’s go.“

The sharp echo of your heels was the only sound as you walked the dimmed hallway of Oswald’s underground fortress. Your inner tension grew with every step you took and turned minutes into hours. Now and then, you glimpsed at Victor who kept staring straight forward and you couldn’t help but look at his arm. After he’d shot Mr. Ricci, the hitman had guided you to a car and hardly inside the vehicle, he cut himself with a razor. The sight of the many scars on his arm left you shocked until now. You gulped at the memory.

Suddenly, you heard an awful scream coming from inside at the back and you jumped around - but no one was there. Again, another loud scream rang out from the distance and Victor flashed a smile that revealed his sharp teeth.

„Unfortunately, we can’t join this party.“ His gloved hand found the small of your back, but you refused to walk. Were they going to torture you as well? The possibility evoked waves of anxiety and in a moment, you were paralyzed with fear.

„Move“, Victor growled as he pushed you forward. „Please“, you breathed, searching for any sympathy in his dark eyes, a glint of hope - but despite the dangerous sparkle in his intense stare, there was nothing but evil nature.

„Please, what? You finally wanna get shot in the knee?“, he asked in anticipation.

Your eyes widened and before you could react, Victor’s firm grip picked you up and put your body over his shoulder. A squeal escaped your throat while you clung to the black fabric of his blazer for support.

„See, I like you better this way. It’s more fun.“ He started to whistle as he carried you further into the never-ending tunnel, ignoring your protests. After a while, you resigned and waited for Victor to stop and when he did, you looked up.

„Final destination, sweet cheeks“, he announced and before he put you down, Victor lightly slapped your backside which caused you to flinch. As soon as your feet touched the ground, another voice caught your attention.

„Ah! My guest of honor has arrived!“ A rather short man, dressed in a grey stripped morning suit, approached you. He limped across the spacious room, using a walking stick in the process.

„I’m Oswald Cobblepot. Pleasure to meet you!“ You hesitantly took his outstretched hand and he enthusiastically shook it.

„Y/N L/N.“

Judging by his cheerful smile, he was indeed very pleased to see you and it increased your chance of survival.

„Please“, Oswald gestured you to enter. While he hobbled back to his seat near the fireplace, you briefly glanced at Victor’s military figure who stood guard next to the door. Somehow, your gut told you to keep an eye on him and when he cheekily winked at you, you followed Oswald by going through the open double-door.

Two freshly poured glasses of wine awaited you at the long table. The furniture, with its many chairs on both sides, reminded you of a centipede.

„Miss Y/N, there are two things that you need to know about me…“, the black-haired criminal began, handing you one glass and you listened. He seated himself on the pretentious arm chair and took a sip as he waited for you to do the same.

„You see, I’m a very impatient man with a temper who never beats around the bush“, Oswald clarified and that’s when you noticed that his excessive smile didn’t reach his eyes.

He seemed to wait. „I understand“, you eventually said, nodding.

„That being said…“, he leaned closer, elbows on the table as his glance bored into yours, „… I want to know where Jeremiah Valeska is.“

Jeremiah Valeska. This goddamn name. It was his fault for dragging you into this world of chaos and death. Whatever power game these two were playing, and considering the recent events, one thing was for sure: it wouldn’t end in your favor. Your only option was to get out of this, as soon as possible, and in order to achieve that you had to play your cards right…

>>I want your pretty lips to be sealed.<< That’s what he said. The last time you’d ignored his instruction, Jeremiah blew up a library. So what should you do? Oswald sensed your inner conflict and all it took from him to get your attention back was to slam his glass on the table.

„Impatient“, he reminded you. His arm chair screeched as he stood up, slowly wandering behind you.

„I’m tired, extremely tired of getting excuses instead of answers“, he said and took your hand in his, caressing your fingers with his thumb. „And this is not personal, I reassure you, but I will torn out your fingernails, one by one if you remain silent!“

„Ah!“, you gasped at his sudden tight grip that painfully squeezed your fingers.

„Talk, woman!“

Then, an idea popped up in your mind. It was a risky move, but you gave it a whirl.

„I know where Martin is!“

„What?“ Oswald let go of your hand. He yanked your stool to the side so that you were facing him.

„What did you say?!“, he asked again, his whole face strained and a look of complete bewilderment in his eyes. Jackpot.

Leaning closer, you felt your heart racing. At last, the sweet hope of freedom seemed within your reach and you pulled yourself together to keep a cool head.

„Mr. Cobblepot, the only thing you need to know about me is my honesty…“ Oswald hung on your every word; with every fiber of his body, he was ready to believe you. Naturally, Oswald was being torn from his trance as your hands cupped his.

„I want Martin to be safe and sound. He’s just an innocent child that shouldn’t experience such horrific things.“

„So he’s okay? He’s alive?“

You nodded. „Yes. Physically, he’s in best health.“

„Oh, thank god!“, Oswald gasped out in relief, his shoulders visibly dropping. Poor man, he had been subjected to uncertainty for far too long.

„He…- Jeremiah… brought me to his hideout, a bunker, where he holds Martin hostage. Please trust me when I say that an unfortunate event made our paths cross. I’m just a pawn in a rigged game, like Martin.“

Lips pressed into a thin line, Oswald tried to regain his composure, but there was something else. His icy blue eyes studied you intensely, it wasn’t as extreme as Jeremiah’s stare, but equally unpleasant.

„The dart of an eye, tensing of forehead… the littlest thing can say a lot“, he remarked, pulling his hand out of your grip. He silently continued his observation and you put a brave face on - after all, you were telling the truth and your confident aura made Oswald chuckle. The chuckle, however, soon turned into laughter which left you clueless. And in a swift movement, Oswald slammed his palm on the table and the laughter stopped. You almost jumped up from your seat.

„Excellent!“, he cheered. „I’m pleased to see that you’re not lying! So, I assume you’ll help us?“

You bit your lower lip. „I’m going to show you the bunker, yes. But on one condition.“

Oswald’s knowing smile encouraged you to keep talking.

„I want protection for me and my sister. After all, Jeremiah won’t be pleased to have me helping you“, you said and the man pursed his lips.

„Fine! If there’s nothi…-“

A storm of gunshots interrupted Oswald mid-sentence and he turned to Victor, alarmed. The bald killer, who already held two guns in each hand, stepped back to cover you and his boss. Heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway and a group of armored men entered the room.

„Oswald Cobblepot“, one of them addressed the Penguin as he raised his hand, holding a document.

„We’re here on behalf of Mr. Ricci. You didn’t pay on time, so we’re going to confiscate your toys.“ Mr. Ricci is dead, you thought smugly and glanced up at Victor.

Without wasting time, the men aimed for the room in the back, stowing away all kinds of weapons and ammunition in bags and suitcases.

In a matter of minutes, the group of 20 had emptied half of the room’s stock.

„What?! That’s ridiculous! I’ve already made payments!“, Oswald explained, more than upset. He limped to the leader of the group, the one with the document and ripped the piece of paper from his hand.

„Wait, that’s the payment for next month. Today’s the 5th!“

„Change of deadline“, the man simply replied with a shrug. „According to the document, the payment was due on the 3rd. That’s why we’ll keep your stuff for three days, like the general terms and conditions says and oh, look: that’s your signature down there. So quit the whining.“ Of course it was fake, but it didn’t stop the pillaging. Oswald was helpless, but then he rushed towards you.

„You!“, he yelled. „You knew about it!“, he pulled at your hair, forcing your body to stand up.

„No! I have nothing to do with this, I swear!“ He scoffed.

„Oh, I know about your little diner date! What kind of deal did this maniac do with Mr. Ricci?!“ He pulled again, twirling your hair around his hand to get a firmer grip.

„I don’t know!“

„Liar!“

„I’m not! I was sent to the car! I have no idea what they talked about!“, you asserted desperately. Tears were streaming down your face as the burning sensation on your scalp became unbearable. Oswald looked at Victor and he nodded, confirming your story.

„Whatever!“, the criminal spat, pushing you against Victor who caught you.

„There’s no time to lose! Get me together a good bunch of men, Victor! We’ll put an end to this circus.“

You fumbled with your hands nervously as you scanned the passing buildings. The car, a silver-painted rust bucket, drove the familiar route to your apartment. Oswald Cobblepot, Victor Zsasz and a murky-looking guy behind the wheel were also inside the vehicle. While Oswald occupied the front row, you tried your best to ignore the hitman next to you - but you could feel his eyes on you.

To your surprise, you were able to persuade Oswald in seeing your sister before you’d head to the bunker.

Repeatedly, you were looking behind you, but despite two more cars of Oswald’d men, there wasn’t anything suspicious. No Jeremiah.

„Relax. Your are in good hands“, Victor ensured, smirking like the mad-man he was. After fifteen minutes, you’d arrived.

„Hurry up“, Oswald commanded and you nodded, running across the street.

While climbing the stairs five floors up to your apartment, you used the time to rethink your plan.

First of all, you would guide Oswald and his men to the bunker in the forest - that was the easiest part. The real challenge was to get them inside. Okay, think. How will you do this? There were cameras outside the bunker, so there was no point in sneaking in as Jeremiah would detect your group.

Therefore, it had to be you. He’d certainly open the door for you and once inside, you had to shut down the alarm and monitoring system. So far, so good. Then, you’d unlock the door for Oswald and provided with a map of the labyrinth that you’d sketch, they should be able to find Martin. After that, it was a race against time to get out alive. Your heartbeat quickened as your imagination went further, thinking about the last and final part of your plan. The second Martin was free, safe and sound in the woods, you would face Jeremiah and…-

Just when you arrived on the fifth floor, keys ready in your hands, you paused at the sight of your door. It was open. In the blink of an eye, millions of horror scenarios flooded your mind and they all included your beloved sister. No, no, no. Please, god. I beg you.

You grabbed the gun in your bag by instinct as you tiptoed closer, carefully listening for any noises inside your apartment, but it was dead silent.

Taking a deep breath, you slowly sneaked in your dark hallway and got an overview. Everything seemed to be on its place, there weren’t any hints for a break-in. But even though you couldn’t see anything suspicious, you could definitely smell it.

The intruder had left an obtrusive scent, a strong cologne that laid in the air, telling you that you were not alone. Of course, you were going to inspect your sister’s room above all.

Your heart was painfully hammering against your chest, so much that you were afraid it could explode at any second. But it wasn’t fear that pumped the blood through your veins, no. It was pure anger. Whoever dared to break into your home and possibly harm your sister - hell would be salvation after you were done with that bastard.

One last step, and you were just two feet away from your sister’s room. You bent slightly forward to sneak a peek and immediately regretted it as the old wooden floor creaked under your weight. „Fuck!“, you hissed and saw a shadow move through the tiny crack of the door. Without losing more time, you bursted into the room. „Hands up or I’ll shoot!“, you yelled, holding the gun with straightened arms in front of you.

The intruder, a man that stood on the other side of the room, turned out to be none other than Jeremiah Valeska. Dressed in a dark purple suit and shiny black shoes, he titled his head to stroke his sleek hair.

„Is that how you welcome guests, my dear?“, he criticized while readjusting his tie.

„What are you doing here?“ The disapproval in your voice and the fact that you didn’t lower your gun made one of his curved eyebrows perk up.

„Paying you a visit. Isn’t it obvious?“

You followed his gaze and spotted the fresh flowers on the nightstand - a bunch of beautiful white lilies.

„Looks more like housebreaking“, you corrected him, checking on your sister. She seemed fine, the machines worked and the monitor showed normal levels.

„What a pity…“, Jeremiah spoke in his monotone voice. „She looks like Sleeping Beauty, waiting for her prince charming to kiss her awake and not like… brain-dead.“

„Shut up“, you growled through gritted teeth and Jeremiah quietly clicked his tongue.

„My apologies.“

For several minutes, darkness and silence reigned. While you had him in your sights, gun still in your hand, Jeremiah kept a close eye on you as well - his face moving like a sculpture carved out of stone. So, secretly giving up on reading him, you focused on the rhythmical beeping of the life-saving machine. The sound reminded you of a clock whose beeping declared every passed second.

„So“, Jeremiah said, walking with long steps ahead to pause in front of you. Even though you owned a gun, his piercing green eyes never failed to create an uneasiness. His all-knowing glance made you aware of the fact that you were like an open book to him - he read line by line, every detail and every secret. The longer he stared at you, the more nervous you became. And when he spoke again, it was the final straw.

„Tell me… How was your evening with Mr. Ricci?“

The man’s name alone triggered you immensely and forced you to relive the terrifying moment. Anger, fear, helplessness and panic - the cocktail of emotions clouded your mind.

„You son of a bitch!“ Without thinking twice, you’d raised your hand and slapped him, so hard that the sharp smack teared the air in half.

„Who do you think you are?! That pervert degraded me, almost killed me! I am not your fucking property, you psycho!“ Your voice was shaking. And so was your body.

You glared at Jeremiah’s profile; the impact had turned his head; and watched as he carefully touched his cheek.

„Now, now. How ungrateful“, he whispered and in the next breath, you were slammed against the wall. You didn’t know when, but Jeremiah had deprived you of the gun, pressing now his forearm against your chest to keep you in place. It hurt.

„It’s astonishing how you keep forgetting that I’ve saved your life.“ His other hand gripped your chin, his thump resting on your lower lip.

„Instead of those ugly words, I was expecting to hear expressions of gratitude. Mr. Ricci was a gift from me, after all.“

„A gift?“

„Yes“, he hissed, leaning closer until his warm breath collided with your heated skin. „Don’t presume I didn’t notice your little exchange in the bathroom. I’m not stupid, my dear.“

You squirmed, but Jeremiah wouldn’t let go. His thumb started to caress your trembling lip and it made you freeze in place.

„Mr. Ricci was the perfect candidate.“

„The perfect candidate for what?“, you asked and he grinned.

„The perfect candidate to be your first victim.“ Suddenly, all the anger was gone and had been replaced by disbelief. What did he say?

„Oh, please“, Jeremiah half-heartedly moaned and rolled his eyes, „Don’t play the good girl. Of course you were going to use the gun and I wanted to give you the opportunity.“

„And why would I thank you?“ All he said made no sense, if anything - it only proved his madness. He purposely put you in this dangerous situation, just so that you were forced to kill Mr. Ricci.

„You see, Y/N, killing a person is a life-changing experience. It gives you power.“ Your puzzled and disturbed look seemed to amuse him.

„But you didn’t, did you?“

„No“, you confessed and were unsure whether you should feel proud or guilty. However, it worried you that Jeremiah already knew the answer and you wondered: how much more did he know?

Then, he suddenly pulled back his arms and you staggered.

„What a pity“, he mumbled, sounding like a disappointed father. Jeremiah walked to the window and shoved the curtains a little aside to look at the street.

„I see that you’ve made the acquaintance of Oswald“, he commented casually and you detected a hint of satisfaction. Shit, there went your plan.

But why didn’t he seem angry or bothered? After all, he’d told you to lie about Martin and yet again, you didn’t obey him.

Every muscle in your body tensed and you awaited an explosion somewhere in the city.

„I guess it can’t be helped then.“

Your eyes were locked on the ground as you listened to Jeremiah’s footsteps, coming closer and closer. If he wasn’t going to set a bomb, then…

Automatically, you stepped in front of your sister’s bed and met the criminal. He was towering over you, radiating an aura of arrogance and craziness. When he raised the gun, you were ready to beg.

„Guide them to the bunker. I’ll be waiting for you“, he said and put the weapon in your hand. You couldn’t believe it. It took you a moment to realize that you and your sister were still alive and after you’d regained your composure, you turned around to face Jeremiah.

He stood next to the bed and observed the sleeping girl.

„I’m impressed“, he admitted and you frowned. „It’s heart-warming how much you care for her. My brother never did. He was turning my childhood into a living nightmare.“

Unsure how to react, you decided to just listen, but Jeremiah straightened his back and pulled at his jacket.

„I’ll see you then. Don’t dawdle. We have a long night ahead of us“, he told you and left the room. You held your breath to hear the click of the closing apartment door and when it did, you collapsed on the ground.

„Thank god“, you whispered at the verge of tears. Crawling next to the bed, you grabbed your sister’s warm hand and squeezed it. She was alive.

Even though you were more than relieved, you knew that it wasn’t over yet. As Jeremiah that: the night was long and Martin was still trapped in the bunker.

You stood up, kissed your sister goodbye and rushed out of the apartment. Oswald was still waiting and you didn’t want to waist anymore time. Pull yourself together, you can do it! You stepped out into the cold night and headed for the silver car. Whatever Jeremiah had in mind, you needed to outsmart him. For Martin’s sake.

„Y/N!“, a familiar voice called and you turned your head. James Gordon got out of his car, one hand lurking on the gun by his hip while he approached you.

You came to a halt in the middle of the street, not sure what to do.

„Don’t!“, you warned the GCPD captain, but he ignored it. He kept walking.

„Listen! No matter what’s going on, I will help you! You need to trust me, Y/N!“

„Hi, Jim!“ Victor’s upper body popped out of the silver car’s window. He held two guns that aimed for the GCPD officer as a devious grin decorated his features.

„Bye, Jim!“ Countless shots aimed for Gordon; the defeating noise made you cower and closing your eyes. A scream echoed and you flinched. Did Victor shot a woman?

It was hard to think probably amongst that hailstorm of flying bullets, but you noted that it had been your scream.

Concerned about the officer, you opened your eyes again and a dazzling light blinded you. One, two, three seconds was the amount of time your brain needed to process the situation - a truck sped towards you. Your heart stopped beating.

To be continued…

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 🖤Masterlist🖤

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master-sass-blast · 4 years

Text

Children of the Gods -Part One.

OOOOOOOOOOOOH BABY I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE!!!! THIS HAS BEEN MY LITTLE PET PROJECT FOR OVER A YEAR!!!!

Summary: There's a new force to be reckoned with on the horizon, a force that goes by the name of Allison Ricci. Having lost her family, she's out for blood and vengeance --specifically, Frank Castle's. And, having taken Karen Page hostage, it seems like she's liable to get it. By teaming up with Frank to save Karen, can you and your friends and family stop Allison's quest for revenge? ...Only one way to find out.

Rating: T for moderate violence, gun violence, and mention of death.

Pairing(s): Piotr Rasputin x Reader, Nathan Summers x Wade Wilson, and Frank Castle x Karen Page.

Set after Hunter and Hunted.

Taglist: @marvel-is-perfection, @chromecutie, @super-darkcloudstudent, @girl-obsessed-with-things, @starman-canos-thorsus-jock

You eye the abandoned looking warehouse with grim determination. “You’re sure about this?”

“Dead sure,” Nathan says as he checks his gun over. “She’ll be here.”

Your Dad-in-every-way-but-biological and Wade had called in a request to have the X-Force help them with a mission earlier today: rescuing a kidnapped person, retrieving a potentially violent mutation for rehabilitation, nothing too out of the ordinary.

It wasn’t until you, Piotr, Ellie, Yukio, and Russell (the newest X-Men trainee cleared for field work) had gotten on the jet –Neena was hitching a ride with Wade—that Nathan had sent you the rest of the details: that the kidnapped person was Karen Page, the potentially violent mutant was a “victim” of Frank’s punishing sprees, and that Frank was also present to rescue his girlfriend.

Because, you know, nothing’s ever easy.

“You’ve got five seconds to get moving, Summers, or I’m gonna blow this place open,” Frank growls, clad in black and his spray painted tack vest and looking angrier than you’ve ever seen him.

“Patience,” Nathan fires back. “We can’t rush this.”

“I’m gonna rush a few bullets up your ass if you don’t hurry the fuck up.”

“If it counts for anything,” Neena says, eyeing the warehouse uneasily, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this one.”

“Easy, Kenobi,” Wade says as he holsters his pistols. “Or would you be Han Solo?”

“I’ve always seen myself as a Leia.”

Wade nods. “Who wouldn’t want to be Carrie Fisher.”

“Wilson, shut your fucking trap or I will shut it for you—”

“Hey.” You step between Frank and Wade before Frank can slug your adoptive brother. “Give my dad two minutes. He’s probably just making sure we aren’t walking into any traps or massive amounts of back up. Karen’ll be fine. Hell, she’s probably already found a way to free herself.”

“Won’t be any back up,” Nathan says as he scans the warehouse. “The target’s name is Allison Ricci, daughter of Andrew Ricci. His recent death—”

“Courtesy of Captain S-and-M here,” Wade interjects, gesturing over at Frank.

“—means that she doesn’t have access to the money that hires extra muscle, considering Mr. Ricci’s accounts were frozen upon his death for criminal investigation.”

“Then what the fuck are we waiting for?” Frank hisses.

“Is there even point in my saying ‘language?’” Piotr asks in a resigned, albeit pointed, tone.

“Probably fucking not,” Ellie says while she taps at her phone.

You bite back a laugh while Piotr merely shoots his mentee a look.

“We’re waiting,” Nathan interjects, regaining control over the conversation, “for me to locate where Allison and Karen are. The less time we waste on this, the better.”

“We’re already wasting time, Summers,” Frank snarls, stomping away from the group. “Fuck it, I’m going in by myself—”

“They’re in a storage room on the West side,” Nathan pipes up. “There’s a bay door there used for unloads. We’ll use that one.”

You quickly follow after Frank as he books it over to the West side of the warehouse, flying low over the ground to keep up with him. “Try to not rush into this. Dad didn’t say anything about Allison’s mutation, which means we don’t know what we’re up against.”

“Don’t tell me what to fucking do.” Frank tries a regular door next to the massive bay door on the West side of the warehouse, then rears back to kick it open when it winds up being locked.

“Holy fuck!” You dive between Frank and the door before he can hurt himself. “Dude! Chill the fuck out for, like, two seconds.” You focus your powers on the doorknob, and within five seconds the lock clicks and the door swings open.

Frank brushes past you brusquely, gun sights aimed on the empty hallway. He scans the space, then advances down the hall when he deems it safe.

You cast a glance over your shoulder to make sure that everyone else is following along, then head in after Frank.

Two steps past the door and you can hear Karen talking to someone else –someone with a higher pitched, noticeably feminine voice.

“That’s gotta be Allison,” you whisper to Frank, who nods back before closing in on the loading bay.

You fly after him –so as not to make added noise—and brace yourself for any number of possible threats: guns, grenades, an arsenal of pointy objects…

But what you see in the loading bay is nothing like what you expected.

Karen is there, yes, sitting on a folding chair and looking pretty good, all things considered. However, the only other person in the dusty concrete and metal room is a young girl with a severe, thin face, dark eyes with darker undereye bags, and dark brown curly hair. The girl –presumably Allison, if Nate’s intel is anything to go by—has a pistol in her hand, aimed at Karen’s head. She looks like she hasn’t slept in a few days, possibly longer.

You blink, stunned. She can’t be older than thirteen.

Frank seems to be taken aback by the sight of the girl as well. He freezes in the shadows for a moment, then lowers his gun a tick before stepping into the light. “Karen.”

The girl’s eyes widen when she sees Frank, and her face contorts with rage as he walks towards them. “You! You fucking bastard—” She presses the muzzle of her gun against Karen’s temple, which makes Karen grimace. “Don’t come one step closer, or I’ll paint the floor with her brains.”

“Easy, kid,” Frank says, much calmer than he would normally address anyone threatening to hurt Karen, which you suspect has everything to do with the fact that he’s facing down an actual kid. “No one has to get hurt.”

“People are already hurt, shithead!” the girl fires back, teeth clenched. “One more won’t make any fucking difference.”

“Hey, hey.” You quickly step between Frank and the girl, hands outstretched. “Let’s just take a deep breath, okay? You must be Allison, right?”

“Who the fuck are you? Are you with him? Stay the fuck away from me, or I’ll—”

“I’m not with him,” you interject quickly, doing your best to be soothing. “My name is Y/N, and I’m with the X-Men. I’m here to help you. Are you Allison? I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“No, you haven’t,” Allison fires back, face screwed up in a defiant sneer. “And the only way you can help me is by killing him.”

“No can do, babyface.” Wade skips into the room, borderline irreverent. “The Mutant Boyscouts are pretty big on the whole ‘no killing’ thing. Also, you’re so tiny! You’re practically a fetus! Nate, you didn’t mention we were picking up a literal infant, you inconsiderate dickhole. I would’ve brought the baby clothes from the last time I got my legs ripped off!”

“Sorry, sweetheart, I’ll make sure to mention it next time,” Nathan says, eyes focused on Allison. “Put the gun down, Allison. Enough people have been hurt already.”

“The only person hurt here has been me!” Allison shrieks, erratically aiming her gun at Karen’s head, Nate, Frank, you, then back to Karen. “Stay back! I’ll fucking do it!”

Russell steps forward, looking decidedly nervous but simultaneously determined. “Look, I know you’re hurt. I know you’re scared. I’ve been where you are; I’ve wanted the same kind of vengeance. So take it from someone who knows, it doesn’t help anything. Only innocent people wind up getting hurt instead.”

“You don’t know jack shit,” Allison hisses, eyes narrowed into slits.

“Put the gun down, Allison,” Russell persists, hands shaking but shoulders squared. “The X-Men are good people. They helped me, and they can help you. It doesn’t have to end like this.”

“Oh, this isn’t about ‘have to,’” Allison spits out, voice hoarse and gravelly. “This is about going to. And ‘this’ is going to end with her brains all over this fucking floor!”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Frank shouts, drawing Allison’s attention to him. “I’m the one you’re mad at, okay. Me! Not her. You’re angry at me, and I understand that, but you don’t have to take it out on her.” He nods at Karen. “She didn’t have anything to do this.”

“Did my mom have anything to do with your murder spree? Huh? Did my brothers have anything to do with it? No, no. I wake up, and I find my mom’s and my dad’s and my brother’s brains and blood everywhere, and I find their faces and bodies obliterated by your fucking bullets, and I see your skull fucking spraypainted on the dining room wall, and… no. No! You have to understand, Castle! You have to understand what it’s like to lose everything you ever loved!”

“Isn’t his whole backstory technically about understanding just that?” Wade mutters.

“Shut up!” Allison screams. “All of you!” She cocks the gun, then presses the muzzle against Karen’s temple, holding the other side of the woman’s head to keep her from flinching away. “This conversation is done!”

Karen closes her eyes, lips pursed and brow furrowed but otherwise remarkably calm.

“Hey!” Frank shouts, holding his hand out. “Put that gun down!”

“Yeah, for fuck’s sake, you’re gonna shoot your own hand off if you do it like that!” Wade adds.

The look Frank shoots your brother is nothing short of murderous.

“What? I’m not wrong.”

Fortunately, before Allison can kill Karen or Frank can –temporarily—kill Wade, the loading bay door rolls open, heaved up by none other than your husband.

The ruckus distracts Allison, which gives Nathan the opportunity to yank the gun out of her hand and knock her away from Karen via telekinesis.

Karen practically dives away from Allison as soon as the gun’s away from her head, quickly darting away from her captor and towards Frank.

Frank quickly latches onto Karen and shoves her behind him, effectively acting as a standing shield between her and everyone else. “You okay?”

Karen nods, gaze still fixed on Allison—

Who looks like someone kicked her puppy and stole her ice cream. If the context were different, the expression of frustration on the teen’s face would be adorable.

“God, she’s like some type of… murder baby,” Wade stage whispers. “Cute, yet deadly. Like an ocelot.”

“That is enough of violence and aggression,” your husband says as Yukio and Ellie step out from behind him. “Please. Come with us quietly, and we can help you—”

“I don’t want your fucking help!” Allison snarls as she scrambles her feet, quickly backing away from everyone. “You’re helping him!” She points an accusatory finger at Frank. “He fucking murdered my family!”

Piotr grimaces before quickly regaining his composure. “I assure you, that is not case.” He takes a step towards Allison, hands held up reassuringly. “If you would just come with us—”

Allison bares her teeth in a vicious snarl –and then her eyes start glowing blue. “Stay the fuck away from me!”

“Uh, what do you do when the baby starts glowing?” Wade asks, head whipping between you and Allison.

Before you can answer –or react to Allison’s sudden light display—the thirteen year-old unleashes a blast of energy from her hands, whipping it like a softball straight at your husband’s chest.

Piotr rockets through the bay door with a guttural yell, ripping the sheet of metal off its tracks with a horrific, deafening screech. He bounces across the concrete parking lot, groaning and grunting as he goes.

“Holy shit!” Russell shrieks.

“Uh, Houston?” Wade babbles nervously, drawing his katanas while Allison’s eyes start letting off wisps of blue smoke. “I think we have an angry baby Kryptonian on our hands –shit!”

You duck as Allison shoots a bolt of energy from her eyes, taking a chunk out of the concrete wall behind all of you. “Fuck! Allison, calm down; let us—”

Allison shrieks, then whips another blast of energy at all of you before aiming a beam of energy from her eyes at Karen.

You wind up with Frank and Karen as you all try to stay away from the scorching stream of energy. Concrete chunks fall off walls and rain down from the ceiling, and you shove Frank and Karen out of the way from a truck-sized piece before sending a gust of wind at Allison –only hard enough to knock her off balance. “Allison! Stop! That’s enough.”

Allison responds by gritting her teeth –then screaming before slamming her fists against the ground.

Blue light shoots along the floor and up the walls –and then the building starts to crumble.

“Let’s go!” Frank shouts, partially hunched over Karen to protect her. “This shithole’s coming down!”

You direct Russell, Ellie, and Yukio out the broken bay door –with some help for your husband, who’d gotten up in time to hold part of the collapsing wall up—then turn back to Allison. “Allison! Come on! We need to go!”

By way of response, Allison merely sends more pulses of energy into the ground, speeding up the collapse of the warehouse by ten. “I’m taking you fuckers with me!”

“Kid, we need to go!” Nate yanks on your arm, forcing you to follow him, Wade, Neena, Frank, and Karen out through the steadily collapsing bay door. “Come on!”

Piotr ducks away from the warehouse as the rest of you dart out, then quickly hunches over you and the teens, shielding you all from any flying chunks of rock or rebar.

The warehouse shakes, groans, then collapses with a gut-clenching crunching noises, spewing dust and shards of glass into the air.

You peer over your husband’s steel shoulder when the worst of the cacophony finally settles. “Shit.”

“Did she…” Russell looks up at you, eyes wide. “Could she… is it even…”

You grimace.

The color drains from Russell’s face, and he gulps. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Try to find some grass to upchuck in!” Wade shouts as Russell darts away from everyone. “It’s less likely to splatter against your face if you don’t puke on asphalt!”

“Shut up, dipshit,” Ellie grumbles as she brushes dust and dirt off her uniform. She stands, eyes the wreckage of the warehouse, then shoots a concerned look at her mentor. “Did she… really take herself out?”

Piotr sighs heavily. “Loss can do strange things to people. She was already heavily agitated when we reached her. There likely was nothing we could do.”

You wrap an arm around Ellie’s and Yukio’s shoulders, then glance over in Frank and Karen’s direction.

Surprisingly enough, Karen seems to be the one holding Frank up right now, even though she was the one that was abducted and had a gun held to her head.

But, then, perhaps it isn’t surprising at all. Wade’s told you chapter and verse about how Frank does not like hurting innocents. If he’d thought he was facing off with an adult –someone fully brought into the Ricci crime family—and found himself staring at a teenager instead…

A teenager that appears to have just committed suicide after losing her family to a Punisher spree…

Yeah. This whole situation is fucked.

Neena grimaces, gaze still fixed on the warehouse as she hands newly returned Russell a water bottle. “I don’t know. This doesn’t feel done just yet.”

“Seems done to me,” Frank murmurs hoarsely, looking somewhat shell-shocked.

“We should probably leave,” Wade says, slowly sheathing his katanas. “Don’t wanna be caught near a collapsed building with a dead kid’s body in it.”

Everyone slowly makes to leave, heading towards respective vehicles—

Except Nathan, who is fixated on an electronic readout mounted to his techno-organic arm. He’s frowning, flipping through various future records and completely oblivious to everyone else.

“Nate-y-kins,” Wade says in a sing-songy voice. “We’re leaving. Vamoosing. Gettin’ a move on, pardner. Come on, Gramps, it’s toaster strudel time.”

You brow furrows when Nathan doesn’t respond; he always responds to Wade, and you also know for a fact that Wade just busted out two nicknames that Nate isn’t particularly fond of in front of everyone else. “Dad? You okay?”

“Yeah…” he mutters, still distracted as he keeps flipping through electronic files. “Just… checking…”

“What’s the earliest onset age of dementia for robotic geezers?” Wade stage whispers to you, which gets a few giggles out of Yukio and Russell.

“Neena’s right,” Nate pipes up, silencing Yukio’s and Russell’s laughter. “Something’s wrong. There’s no death date for Allison in her records.”

“Maybe the Matrix is taking its sweet time to update,” Wade suggests, rolling his eyes. “She dropped a building on herself, Cabes. Only person who can come back from that is me.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Nathan mutters, redrawing his gun as he starts towards the warehouse. “We need to recover Allison’s body and confirm her death.”

Before he can so much as take another step, though, there’s a brief flash of light around Karen’s feet –and then Allison pops halfway out of the ground, grabs Karen’s legs, and starts yanking her under.

Karen lets out a startled shriek and flails desperately for the closest handhold. “Frank!”

Frank lets out a desperate howl of Karen’s name, diving for her and catching her. He hooks his arms under her armpits and hugs her close, holding her up so everything above her hips is still above ground.

Allison snarls. “Let go!”

Frank catches a bolt of energy to the chest and goes sailing backwards with a grunt, knocking into you and Wade and taking the two of you down to the asphalt with him.

“Oh, god,” Wade groans. “This is not how I wanted to get Frank Castle on top of me. Dude! What did you eat for breakfast? Despair and cement?”

Nathan’s the next closest, since he’s the only one that can fend off Allison’s blasts of energy with his telekinesis. He manages to grab Karen’s arm before her shoulders disappear underground. He clasps something around her wrist, says something in her ear—

And then he releases his grip, and both Karen and Allison disappear underground.

The scream that Frank lets out is heart wrenching, somewhere between a wounded animal and the sound of grief incarnate.

“Why did you let her go?” he seethes, advancing on Nathan in a storm of rage. “I’m gonna fucking rip your limbs off, Summers; I’m gonna—”

“We weren’t going to get her out of the transportation spell without ripping her limbs apart,” Nathan spits out, quickly backing away from Frank while raising a telekinetic shield. “I put a tracking device on her wrist so we can follow her wherever Allison takes her.”

Frank’s hand shakes as he points at Nathan. “If –if anything happens to her… I swear to God, if anything happens to Karen—”

“They’re at Spring Heights Memorial Park,” Nate says once the display on his techno-organic arm pings. “And Karen’s still alive.”

“What direction?” you ask, extending a hand to Frank. “I’ll fly the two of us there. The rest of you can catch up.”

“Northeast, ten miles.”

You nod, then loop your arm around Frank’s waist. The two of you get a running start, then take off into the night sky.

You just hope you make it there in time.

***

The Spring Heights Memorial Park is dark, completely abandoned, by the time you and Frank reach it –but you can hear Karen arguing with Allison as soon as you land at the cemetery’s entrance.

Frank bolts towards the sound of Karen’s voice, weaving through the rows of headstones and plaques with the ease of someone who makes running around in the dark a regular habit.

(You, a person who does not make running around in the dark a regular habit, opt to fly to avoid tripping and faceplanting onto one of the headstones.)

“I understand that you’re hurting, but that doesn’t give you the right to hurt others—”

“You’re dating the fucking Punisher! All he does is hurt people because he got hurt!”

You follow Frank around another tree, then practically run right over Karen and Allison.

(Well, Frank does. You don’t because… you’re flying… yeah.)

Karen has Allison’s gun –she must have wrestled it off of her at some point—and is aiming it at the ground, gaze locked on Allison. Allison looks like she fell and hadn’t thought to get back up yet, and looks somewhat startled by the entire situation.

“Easy, easy,” Frank says when Allison’s face screws up at the sight of him. “You stay right where I can see you.”

“Or what?” Allison challenges, sneering. “You’re gonna shoot me? You’re gonna fucking shoot a thirteen year-old girl?” She scoffs when Frank’s face twitches. “Yeah, didn’t think so. Fucking coward.”

“Here.” You pick up Karen and hover above the ground, well out of Allison’s reach. “That’s that handled.”

There’s the sound of the jet thrumming overhead, then a gentle thump as it lands at the entrance of the cemetery.

“Myshka?”

“Over here, honey,” you reply, projecting your voice so they can hear you.

“To the left!” Wade announces. “Bibbity-bobbity –ah fuck! My fucking shin! Owie! Fucking headstone, getting in my fucking way –ah shit! Branch to the eye! Oh, God, that smarts.”

“Here.” Neena’s voice echoes through the Memorial Park. “I brought a flashlight.”

“Oh, that was lucky of y… dammit! Fucking lazy writing!”

“Get a fucking move on, Wilson!” Frank shouts.

“Suck my cock!”

Allison’s lip curls derisively. “You work with that nutjob?”

“He’s sharper than he looks,” you bite out, somewhat offended on Wade’s behalf.

Nate reaches your little group first, gun already aimed and ready. He stops a few feet away from Allison, eyes locked on her. “Piotr’s outside. He wasn’t sure he wouldn’t break the headstones.”

You can’t help but smile, just a little. That’s my baby.

“Enough’s enough, Allison,” he continues, slowly inching towards the young teen while Wade, Neena, and the trainees catch up. “You’re outnumbered and outgunned. Stand down.”

“Fuck you,” Allison growls before flinging her hands towards the ground.

And then the dead start crawling out of their graves.

“Jesus fucking yellow penguins!” Wade shrieks, whipping out a pistol and shooting at the rotting corpses. “Castle! You were a zombie killing cop in another life. Do something!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Frank shouts back, bludgeoning one of the skeletal bodies off him with the butt of his shotgun before shooting it in the head. “Don’t answer that! I don’t want to know.”

“Just shoot them, Shane! Nathan! Why the fuck didn’t you tell me we were dealing with a class five Necromancer?”

“I didn’t know!” Nate shouts back.

“Unlikely! You’re so sleeping on the couch tonight, buster!”

Your head whips back and forth as you try to keep up with all the action –but there’s not much you can do while you’re holding on to Karen. “I need to pass you off for the moment. Piotr!”

Fortunately, your husband’s already close by, having been drawn over by the sound of gunfire. “What is going on –bozhe moi.”

“It’s a bootleg version of the rapture. Here.” You float over the fence and hand Karen to him. “Keep her off the ground. I’m going to get the trainees out.” You quickly lift Ellie, Yukio, and Russell out of the cemetery, then turn around and quickly analyze the fray.

The sheer amount of reanimated corpses is overwhelming –and, worse still, shooting them doesn’t seem to do anything other than slow them down.

They stop working when they’re too broken apart, you realize when Frank shatters a particularly ancient looking skeleton with an onslaught of gunfire –and that gives you an idea.

You stretch your arms outward, creating a shockwave of air that sends the unsteady skeletons flying across the cemetery, bashing into headstones and breaking apart until they’re just rattling bones on the ground.

You grin, triumphant –then grimace when you realize that, while you’ve stopped the undead army, you’ve also spread countless remains across the park. “Oops. That’ll be a lawsuit.”

“Not if we don’t get caught,” Wade points out.

Off to the side, Allison collapses to the ground, panting and covered in sweat. Her eyes revert back to their normal color, and she looks like she’s two seconds away from passing out.

“You about done throwing your tantrum now?” Nate asks.

Allison glares up at him and bares her teeth in a vicious snarl. “Fuck. You.”

And then she tips her head towards the black sky, lets out a guttural scream, and unleashes a shockwave of blue energy.

You recoil, throwing your arms up to brace yourself –but it washes over you harmlessly, less of an attack and more of a smokescreen.

And, when your eyes adjust and you see part of the ground fusing back together, the way it did at the warehouse after Allison took Karen a second time, you realize that’s exactly what it was.

“She’s most likely done for tonight,” Nathan reassures Frank when the black clad vigilante starts scanning the immediate area for the next sign of danger. “She was tired at the end of it. Wouldn’t have had enough left in her for another attack.”

“She’s still out there,” Frank says.

“And that’s a problem for another day,” Nathan fires back, heading towards the Memorial Park’s entrance. “We need to get out of here before the cops show up.”

***

“Her name is Allison Ricci, daughter of Andrew Ricci—”

“Yeah, we know that, skip to the part where she can literally raise the dead!” Wade snaps.

“For the last time: I found out about that when you did!” Nathan fires back.

The lot of you –meaning Wade, Nate, Neena, Frank, Karen, your husband, and you—are gathered at yours and Piotr’s house, post being examined and released by Hank and his team. You’re all sat around the dining room table, in various states of irritation, frustration, and exhaustion.

The last one chiefly goes to Karen –who, after being kidnapped twice and having a gun held to her head, has earned a good nap and a glass of wine (the latter of which you procured for her as soon as she stepped into your home).

As for the other two…

Wade and Frank are arguably the angriest, mostly at Nathan for seemingly having withheld information about Allison and the mission.

You, Neena and Piotr are also irritated, largely for the same reasons –though Piotr is especially pissed that Nate would bring trainees on a mission this dangerous.

All in all, it adds up to your dad having a lot of digging out to do.

“In my time, she’s an agent of Bishop, one of Apocalypse’s henchmen,” Nathan continues quickly, before Wade or Frank can start arguing with him. “I only recognized her name due to her father’s obituary. She preferred staying distant from all of it, staying unseen –which is why I didn’t know about her full set of powers to begin with, and also why I thought it would be okay to bring along Russell, Negasonic, and Yukio. The information just wasn’t there.”

“This isn’t the first time you’ve come up short on a mission,” Frank points out, tone lethal. “You could’ve told us –fuck, you could’ve told us she’s just a kid, Summers. That would’ve been good to know.”

“You weren’t in the headspace to listen to anything I had to say, Castle,” Nathan fires back through gritted teeth. “You threatened to snap my neck if I didn’t step to at your fucking pace. I’m not going to waste the time talking if you’re so single minded—”

“The two of you can settle your issues later,” you interject. “Right now, we still need to know what we’re dealing with when it comes to Allison.”

Nathan sighs heavily, scrubs his face with one hand. “I was hoping we’d be able to pull with her what we did with Russell. Get her the help and support she needed, change the course of the future. But, since her official kill count hasn’t changed by much, I seriously doubt we didn’t pull that off tonight.”

“‘Hasn’t changed by much?’” Neena repeats, arms crossed over her chest and brows spiking towards her hairline. “What the hell does that mean?”

Nate’s mouth twists into a deep grimace. “Technically… Karen was supposed to die tonight.”

Frank’s face goes pale, and Karen takes another long sip of wine while she holds Frank’s hand.

“About a year later, she would’ve taken out Frank, too. Obviously we managed to save Karen tonight, and considering that Allison’s down two listed kills and there’s no… imminently listed death dates for Karen and Frank –no, I’m not telling you,” Nathan quickly says, shooting a stern look at Frank. “Last thing you need to know is either of your death dates. Anyway, since she’s down two kills and the dates aren’t anywhere in the near future, I’m willing to wager we’ve managed to take you two off her list. The rest of it though…”

“How many does she have left?” Piotr asks, hesitant.

“A little over fifteen thousand,” Nathan sighs heavily.

Shock ripples through the room, evident on everyone’s faces.

“Holy shit,” Frank breathes, face going slack with surprise and horror.

“How is that even possible?” Karen asks, brow furrowed.

Wade shrugs. “Give me enough explosives and I could probably do it.”

“Shut it, Wilson.”

“She asked!”

“You saw her in action tonight,” Nathan interjects, sitting back in his seat. “She’s only going to get stronger as she goes. And once she’s in Bishop’s keep, she’s going to have even more means and opportunities to kill. Not to mention that the number on file is comprised only of officially listed kills. In reality, it’s undoubtedly higher.”

“So, essentially, we’re trying to flip a teenager with comparative lethal abilities of a bomb, whose parents were just killed by him,” Neena says, pointing at Frank.

“We did it with Russell—”

“Russell was an orphan, looking for a family and someone to care about him, and had a strong connection to Wade,” Neena states, staring Nathan down from across the table. “Allison lost her whole family execution style, is trying to cope and grieve on her own, and is clearly more than a little unhinged if tonight’s anything to go by. These are two entirely different ball games.”

“We cannot let child become mass murderer,” Piotr speaks up, conviction strong in his voice and on his face. “She deserves better future.”

Silence hangs in the room as everyone arrives at the same conclusion at their own pace.

Neena sighs heavily. “This barely worked with Russell. And you—” she points at Wade “—had to get shot twice for it to work. He’s—” she jerks her thumb at Nate “—out of time jumping charges, and I seriously doubt that shooting him—” she nods at Frank “—is gonna have the same effect with Allison.”

“We’ll find something,” Karen says, properly joining the conversation for the first time that night.

Neena raises an eyebrow at her. “What makes you so sure?”

“Because we have to,” Karen says quietly. “It’s fifteen thousand plus people that need us to.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then Neena sighs heavily. “Alright. Count me in. We’re gonna need all the luck we can get with this.”

“We’ll help as we can, too,” you say, pointing between yourself and Piotr. “But I’m not sure how much the X-Men will be able to assist since the Punisher’s tangled up in this.”

“I will contact my mother,” Piotr adds. “She may be able to help with this.”

Nathan nods, then looks over at Wade. “What about you?”

“I’m with you in all of this, Cabes. Always.” Wade leans over, gently kisses his partner’s cheek, then stands with a groan. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, the Wade-mobile needs to make a pit stop.”

“You could’ve just said ‘excuse me,’” Neena calls out as Wade heads towards the bathroom.

“Hey! It could’ve been worse! I could’ve said that I’m gonna take the mother of all piss breaks –which, as it so happens, I am!”

You all groan, a mix of annoyance and disgust.

“I’m also gonna take a shit!”

“I think we get the picture, handsome,” Nathan says with a roll of his eyes. “Just –please use the restroom and stop telling us about it.” He waits to make sure that Wade isn’t going to keep talking –or, worse still, narrate his “pit stop” experience—then sighs and looks at everyone else again. “Thank you. Everyone. Allison is a key component in Apocalypse’s upper ranks in the future. If we can flip her to our side, we’ll put a major dent in his abilities to take over the universe.”

“Fucking Christ,” Frank grumbles, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just –this kid. Is she gonna keep coming after Karen and me?”

“Possibly. I’ll keep my ear to the ground, and if I hear anything, I’ll let you know,” Nathan promises.

“You’ll let me know everything,” Frank amends, jabbing an accusatory finger in your dad’s direction. “No more of this vague bullshit –or it’s going to be my gun up your ass.”

“Ooh, kinky!” Wade shouts from the bathroom. “Can I get in on that?”

Nathan shakes his head at the same time Frank grimaces, and then he nods at Frank. “Everything I know. You have my word.”

“Your word doesn’t really mean shit right now, Summers,” Frank growls, shoving his chair back as he stands. “Come on,” he says to Karen, voice considerably softer and more caring. “Let’s get you home.”

“You’re coming home, too,” Karen insists.

“Yeah,” Frank agrees, putting his hand on the small of Karen’s back as he escorts her out of the dining room. “I’m going home, too.”

“I will get door,” Piotr murmurs, quickly following after them to escort them out the front door.

Neena stretches, rolls her neck, then sighs. “I’m beat. Think Xavier will mind if I crash in one of the empty rooms?”

You shake your head. “He won’t care. You’re welcome here for breakfast in the morning.”

She grins. “Sounds good.” She hugs you gently, presses a sisterly kiss against the top of your head, then heads out the front door.

You watch her go, then circle around the table and sit down next to your dad. “You can’t keep holding back essential information.”

“I’m not trying to,” Nathan says tiredly, rubbing his temples. “There just genuinely wasn’t much to go on tonight. Plus, telling people information about the future is dangerous. It can alter the course of things irreparably, change the outcome of millions of lives on a catastrophic level. I’m just… I’m trying to figure out the balance of it all. What I can and can’t share.”

“You’ll get it figured out,” you reassure him. “I know you will.”

A ghost of a smile tugs at Nathan’s lips, and he slings an arm around your shoulders. “Thanks, kid.”

***

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You blink at the darkness, then roll onto your side and wriggle across your and your husband’s massive bed until you’re nestled up against his side. “Are you alright?”

“Da.” Piotr wraps one of his massive, muscular arms around you, hugs you against his side, and kisses the top of your head. “Tonight was just… intense. I wish young ones did not have to go through.”

“We’ll know better for next time,” you reassure him. “And Dad legitimately didn’t know all of what was up with Allison. He didn’t mean to get the teens involved.”

Piotr huffs. “Ya znayu.”

“But?”

“I just… Cable is reckless.”

You purse your lips; you know he’s annoyed since he’s using Nathan’s code name. “He doesn’t mean to be.”

“Perhaps, but he forgets we are not all soldiers. That we do not all operate as he does. He is good person –good for you and Wade—and good trainer, but not always good leader. Not for… not for everyone.”

“Not for everyone,” you agree. “But he’s amazing for Wade, you have to admit.”

“I would not deny,” Piotr says, fingers playing absently with your hair. “Cable balances Wade, and verse vice-a. But he is too reckless for X-Men.”

“Which is why he’s not an X-Man—”

“Not my meaning. He may be too reckless to work with,” Piotr clarifies. “We have to meet certain standards to keep licensing to run school, work with children, act as enforcers against mutant criminals. If Cable jeopardizes that…”

“One step at a time,” you remind your husband when his voice trails off. “Nathan takes what we do here seriously. If he sees himself jeopardizing that, he’ll be the first to bring it up, and he’ll be the one to step away so we can keep doing what we do. You know that.”

Piotr sighs. “That much is true.” He tucks you closer to him, then kisses your forehead. “You should rest, myshka. Sleep is very important.”

“I was,” you tease him, smile evident in your voice. “But I had to soothe my husband’s woes first.”

Piotr chuckles, then presses a kiss against the top of your head. “Spokoynoy nochi i sladkikh snov, lyubov' moya.”

“Love you too, sweetheart. Rest well.”

#sass writes #piotr rasputin x reader #colossus x reader #nathan summers x wade wilson #frank castle x karen page #tw: gun violence #tw: death mention #ooooh baby i have been WAITING FOR THIS ONE!!!!!!!!!!#x men fanfiction #deadpool fanfiction

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Best Thanksgiving Movies to Watch This Holiday Season

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This year marks a unique Thanksgiving, to be sure. With the pandemic carrying on, families and loved ones across the United States are testing out new ways to celebrate a national holiday that might be best described as food, football, and then, of course, more food. For some that means outdoor gatherings are the order of the day; for others it will mean the first time you might be cutting turkey while wearing a mask.

However you might wish to celebrate the holiday though, gathering with loved ones around a movie never goes out of style. For that reason, we’ve gathered the best Thanksgiving movies to choose from. Some of these films are truly beloved holiday classics, and others might be less obviously about Thanksgiving, even as they wear their affection for the holiday on their sleeves. And yet others still will offer the rare respite: a streak of cynicism for those who think Thanksgiving is for the birds. So pass the potatoes and enjoy a helping of good cinematic cheer below.

Addams Family Values (1991)

Addams Family Values might seem an unusual choice, but then everything about this one is unusual, right down to it being the rare comedy sequel that is superior to its predecessor. That success is in no small part due to the filmmakers realizing Christina Ricci, who made her big break playing the morbid Wednesday Addams, was devastating in her deadpan delivery.

Movies

How 1991’s The Addams Family Nearly Got Derailed

By Simon Brew

Movies

The Addams Family and Their Spooky New Jersey Origins

By Aaron Sagers

Thus Wednesday gets half the film to herself in this one, and we’re thankful for it. With Addams Family Values, she’s forced to endure the dreariness of summer camp and its middle class morality, right down to them holding a Thanksgiving pageant in July. Surrounded by smiling rich white kids who cast Wednesday as Pocahontas (who, it should be said, was not in New England or at the first Thanksgiving), Wednesday takes the opportunity to keep it real about Thanksgiving.

“My people will have pain and degradation,” Wednesday hisses in her last minute rewrite. “Your people will have stick shifts. The gods of my tribe have spoken. They say do not trust the Pilgrims, especially Sarah Miller. And for all these reasons I’ve decided to scalp you.”

The chaos that ensues is delightful. Happy Thanksgiving, folks!

Alice’s Restaurant

Alice’s Restaurant is an inadvertent Thanksgiving comedy directed by Arthur Penn, who re-envisioned Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow as counterculture antiheroes in his 1967 gangster classic, Bonnie and Clyde. Penn did the same with Arlo Guthrie, the son of folk hero Woody Guthrie, the committed anti-fascist who wrote “This Land is Our Land.” The film is based on Arlo Guthrie’s 1967 folk song “Alice’s Restaurant Massacree,” which was about Alice and a restaurant. The restaurant wasn’t called “Alice’s Restaurant.”

That’s just the name of the song, which is very talky, like the movie, which is also pretty violent and fairly drug-fueled. The film doesn’t start on Thanksgiving, but at an army recruitment center, where Arlo, playing himself, is trying to avoid the draft. Turns out he’s got no good reason to stay out of the war.

The Thanksgiving setting, however, gives the film its purpose, and main reason to be thankful. The main plot involves getting rid of some trash after a holiday dinner. Arlo and his friends load a couple months’ worth of garbage into their red VW microbus, along with “shovels, and rakes, and other implements of destruction,” and head to the city dump, which is closed for Thanksgiving. They’d never heard of a dump closed on Thanksgiving before, so with tears their eyes, they drive off to find another place to put the garbage.

It takes Arlo 18 minutes and 21 seconds to tell the plot in the song, in intermittent three-part harmony, but the gist is: he gets arrested for littering, and his criminal record keeps him out of the draft. With it, Penn turns Guthrie into one of the most mild-mannered antiheroes in counterculture cinema. He’s not moral enough to join the army, burn women, kids, houses, and villages because he’s a litterbug.

A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving

Perhaps not quite as iconic as the legendary A Charlie Brown Christmas or It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown, the third Peanuts holiday special (and 10th Peanuts animated special overall) is still just as charming, wholesome, and satisfying as its predecessors. Once again written by Peanuts creator Charles M. Schulz and directed by Bill Melendez, the show has been a November staple on TV for decades since first airing in 1973.

This time out, Charlie Brown (voiced by Todd Barbee) and his sister Sally (Hilary Momberger) are getting ready to go to their grandmother’s house for Thanksgiving when one by one, all their friends invite themselves over to his house—despite the fact that Charlie Brown can only make “cold cereal and maybe toast.” It all gets sorted out in the end, and it’s all the little jokes, the delightful voices, and the unforgettable music by Vince Guaraldi that makes this a perennial favorite.

The Fantastic Mr. Fox

There isn’t so much as a mention of Thanksgiving in Wes Anderson’s stop motion masterpiece. Yet, somehow, it’s impossible to watch The Fantastic Mr. Fox and not have late autumn brought to mind. Is it the carefully chosen fall color palette that’s all sunsets and foliage? Is it the warm familial vibe of the Foxes and their neighbors that makes you miss big get-togethers? Is it the impeccably dressed cast of animal characters, all resplendent in corduroy, flannel, and tweed, quietly shaming you with their perfect sartorial choices? Or perhaps it’s simply their ravenous eating habits that puts you in the right frame of mind.

With little resemblance to the Roald Dahl book it’s based on, The Fantastic Mr. Fox is instead one of the most perfect encapsulations of Anderson’s eye for (some might say obsession with) the little details. And it’s those little details, even more than its fuzzy animal characters, that make this perhaps the coziest of the director’s efforts. Alternately exuberant and melancholy (just like the holiday itself), and with numerous scenes of beautifully plated gluttonous excess, it’s remarkable that this movie hasn’t already been adopted as an unofficial icon of the season. Let’s start that campaign right here, shall we?

Hannah and Her Sisters

The movie that won Michael Caine and Dianne Wiest Oscars, Hannah and Her Sisters is a story about family framed between two Thanksgivings and the year that connects them. With a meticulous insight about the highs and anxieties of upper-middle class life among Manhattan intellectuals, the film is really the travails of Hannah (Mia Farrow) and her sisters Holly (Dianne Wiest) and Lee (Barbara Hershey). There’s also the lust of Hannah’s husband Elliot (Caine), who pursues an affair with Lee, but the film is mostly told from the vantage of three women of varying ages struggling with how they see themselves and their lives in a year of New York living.

Writer-director Woody Allen is here too as a hanger-on in this family, who’s struggling with his own fears of death, but his and Elliot’s roles are ultimately as outside observers who arrive every Thanksgiving to watch the sisters and their parents renew their family ties… and close ranks.

Home for the Holidays

One that feels particularly timely as 2020 adults hole up in their childhood homes for Thanksgiving and beyond, director Jodie Foster’s underrated family gathering comedy wallows in the downsides of going home. The film stars Holly Hunter as a woman who’s lost her job and is growing apart from her teenage daughter (Claire Danes). But all of that pales in comparison to spending Thanksgiving with her parents (Anne Bancroft and Charles Durning), plus younger brother Robert Downey Jr.

The Best Thanksgiving TV Episodes

By Alec Bojalad

Movies

The Long History of Mystery Science Theater 3000 and Thanksgiving

By Gavin Jasper

It’s a familiar setup, but Thanksgiving is a time of being with those you’re familiar with, whether you like it or not. Plus, as a comedy it also has the still vital message of counting your blessings.

The Ice Storm

Based on Rick Moody’s acclaimed 1994 novel, director Ang Lee’s (Brokeback Mountain) masterful adaptation is a scathing portrait of upper middle class suburban life in the early 1970s, when all the experimentation in the world with drugs, alcohol, and sex couldn’t quite stop anyone from feeling like their lives and society were unmoored.

Like other dramas that take place around Thanksgiving, there’s very little to actually be thankful for: the characters (played with flair by Sigourney Weaver, Kevin Kline, Joan Allen, Tobey Maguire, and others) are all trapped in emotional black holes of their own making.

Similarly, all the decadence and crazy fashions/trends of that surreal decade can’t replace the feeling that something has gone dreadfully wrong. Lee–before he became obsessed with the latest camera technology–charts this all with patience, empathy, and precision.

Knives Out

Okay, so Rian Johnson’s brilliant little whodunit isn’t actually set on Thanksgiving, but it sure feels like it is and was released around the holiday on Nov. 27, 2019 (God, that feels like a century ago). So… close enough. And while the family gathering at the center of the story is for a patriarch’s birthday, it certainly resembles the kind of large family assembly many hold at Thanksgiving, right down to feeling like it could end in murder.

Movies

Knives Out and the Villainy of Privilege

By Kayti Burt

Movies

Knives Out: When Murder Makes You a Better Person

By Natalie Zutter

The murder in question, of course, is that of mystery novelist Harlan Thrombey (Christopher Plummer), and it’s up to gentleman detective Benoit Blanc (Daniel Craig) to figure out which of his many bickering, backbiting, scheming descendants might have had a hand in it. Perhaps Harlan’s nurse Marta (Ana de Armas) can help since the clan insists “she’s like part of the family.”

All that’s really missing is the turkey. The knives are out, in abundance.

The Last Waltz

Perhaps no title card in cinematic history deserves to be heeded more than the one which opens The Last Waltz: “This film should be played loud.”

Not just the greatest concert film ever made. Not only the greatest rock documentary of all time. The Last Waltz may lay claim to being the only movie of any stature literally filmed on Thanksgiving. Martin Scorsese shot The Band’s farewell concert on Thanksgiving Day, 1976, where the audience of 5,000 was served a literal Thanksgiving dinner in addition to an unforgettable night of music by some of the most legendary performers of the 20th century.

Culture

The Last Waltz: Martin Scorsese’s Ultimate Rock n’ Roll Movie

By Tony Sokol

Culture

New Deep Purple Album Whoosh! Coming in June

By Tony Sokol

But this is no mere concert film. Being treated to a document of such legendary musicians at the height of their powers would make this important enough, but when it’s shot, lit, and edited by Scorsese, and with The Band joined by towering guest stars like Muddy Waters, Eric Clapton, Neil Young, Bob Dylan, and many more, The Last Waltz becomes one of the most powerful musical statements ever committed to film. Scorsese breaks up the performances with members of The Band reflecting on their career, and even in these quieter moments, The Last Waltz radiates the power and danger of a life lived on the road, in seedy dives, and storied ballrooms.

When you’ve had your fill of football and family for the night, pour yourself a glass of something good and do exactly as that opening title card says.

Miracle on 34th Street

Yes, yes, technically speaking Miracle on 34th Street is a Christmas movie. But it is definitely worth noting that the film actually spends more screen time on the actual Thanksgiving holiday than Christmas Day. Indeed, the picture opens with the now legendary Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. In the ultimate stroke of product placement, Macy’s New York City shindig got nationwide attention on the big screen, even as the movie focuses on the department store hiring the wrong Santa Claus for its festivities.

Arriving drunk and disgraceful to Macy’s preparations, an inebriated mall Santa creates an opportunity for a man who calls himself Kris Kringle (Edmund Gwenn) to step in. Kris is passing through, presumably doing some holiday shopping ahead of his own big day in December. But upon seeing his personage so besmirched, he demands to take Santa’s reins and in the process saves Thanksgiving. We also see how this affects the turkey time of the film’s central mother and daughter team, played by Maureen O’Hara and Natalie Wood.

Mistress America

Sometimes Thanksgiving can be quiet and intimate… and desperately needed. That’s the case of the end to Noah Baumbach’s effervescent Mistress America. A mostly successful attempt at emulating 1930s screwball comedy for literary millennials, Mistress America is a clever throwback set during autumn in New York City and, tellingly, a trip to the suburbs of Connecticut. But by movie’s end, protagonists Tracy (Lola Kirke) and Brooke (Greta Gerwig) find themselves alone and isolated in the big city on Thanksgiving. They also thus discover an excuse to reconcile after grievances drove them apart, breaking bread at a restaurant down the street. It’s downbeat, but emotionally cathartic for both the characters and film.

Planes, Trains and Automobiles

As the late John Hughes’ masterpiece, Planes, Trains and Automobiles is the quintessential “get home in time for the holiday” tale. Steve Martin is Neal, a stressed-out marketing exec who picks up an accidental travel companion in Del (John Candy), a well-meaning but oafish shower curtain ring salesman. As the two struggle to get back to Chicago in time for Thanksgiving amidst a string of misadventures and transportation issues, an eventual friendship forms, leading to a moving conclusion.

Planes was a step forward for Hughes as he began to move away from teen comedies, and the movie’s balance of humor and heart was perfectly complemented by the dynamic comedic chemistry of Martin and Candy. The latter probably had his best role ever in Del Griffith, and it’s a tribute to both actors and Hughes that each lead character can be annoying yet is never unlikable.

Movies

Christmas Movies on Disney+ Streaming Guide

By David Crow

Movies

Christmas Movies: A Complete Holiday Streaming Guide

By Alec Bojalad

Hilarious and poignant, this mix of buddy picture and road movie is a near-perfect treat for the season—or any time.

Prisoners

We wouldn’t exactly call Prisoners ideal holiday viewing. It’s set at Thanksgiving and immediately afterwards, although there isn’t much cheer during most of the film’s harrowing 153 minutes. The movie opens with a Thanksgiving dinner involving two Pennsylvania families, a pleasant ritual that soon turns nightmarish when two little girls—one from each clan—go missing. From that point onward, the story becomes a downward psychological spiral in which the search for the girls takes a terrible toll on all caught in its wake.

The first Hollywood studio film directed by French-Canadian filmmaker Denis Villeneuve (who has since gifted us with films like Sicario, Arrival, Blade Runner 2049, and next year’s Dune), Prisoners is a brutal, emotionally complex thriller that maintains a high level of suspense and dread over its formidable running time.

Featuring excellent performances from Hugh Jackman, Jake Gyllenhaal, Terrence Howard, and others, it may not be the kind of cheery escapism we often seek out at the holidays. But it will leave you deeply thankful for the good things in your own life.

Rocky and Rocky II

“To you it’s Thanksgiving, to me it’s Thursday,” Rocky Balboa (Sylvester Stallone) tells Adrian Pennino (Talia Shire) as they hit the streets for their first date in Rocky. That date wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for the tougher than tough love of Adrian’s brother Paulie (Burt Young). He gave them no alternative but to go out when he tossed the Thanksgiving turkey his sister slaved over all day out the side door. What followed was one of the best first date scenes in film.

It doesn’t seem like Rocky and Adrian have a lot to be thankful for. She says her daddy told her to develop her brains because she’d never get by on her looks. Rocky says he’s so dumb he couldn’t hope to be anything else but a fighter, which is halfway to being a bum.

While the scenes surrounding the ice skating rink date aren’t only some of the most romantic sequences captured on celluloid, they culminate in one of hottest. This is all before Rocky is even approached to fight the heavyweight champ of the world. The battered underdog Rocky stays on his feet until the final bell, and an almost equally bashed Apollo Creed, who barely held onto his title belt, swears he never wants a rematch.

Culture

Could Rocky Balboa Really Have Gone the Distance?

By Tony Sokol

Movies

The Top 10 Carl Weathers Movie and TV roles

By Wil Jones

Apollo takes that rematch when he defends his title in Rocky II. The fight is set for Thanksgiving Day, and Rocky knocks the stuffing out of that turkey, and laps up the gravy. Many of the Rocky movies, including Creed, opened on Thanksgiving weekends, and are perfect “date movies.” The main bouts may focus on two fighters, but the love stories, starting with the one between Rocky and Adrian, are tenderer than the bird Paulie tossed in the alley.

Spider-Man

The original Spider-Man really is a superhero movie for all seasons. With its romantic and old-fashioned photography of New York City in the spring and autumn, the picture runs the calendar’s gamut in its storytelling of the webslinger’s first year on the job. But it also pivots on a rather eventful Thanksgiving dinner.

Movies

Why Spider-Man 2’s Train Fight is Superhero Cinema’s Greatest Action Scene

By Mark Harrison

Movies

Sam Raimi Spider-Man Trilogy Writer David Koepp Reveals Original Plans

By Joseph Baxter

Fresh off Spider-Man (Tobey Maguire) refusing to team up with the Green Goblin (Willem Dafoe), and after a blow up at a not-Macy’s Day Parade in Times Square, the pair’s alter-egos unwittingly meet up for Thanksgiving in Peter Parker’s apartment. It’s a swanky bachelor pad he shares with Harry Osborn (James Franco). But even with Aunt May (Rosemary Harris) and Mary Jane Watson (Kirsten Dunst) there to give it some holiday warmth, things get frosty when Dafoe’s patriarchal Norman realizes the kid passing him the cranberries is his mortal enemy. Awkward.

And yes, nearly 20 years later this strangely does feel like a holiday movie, doesn’t it?

ThanksKilling

This film is terrible. An exploitative C-cheapie horror where a turkey possessed by a demon with a smart mouth hunts and murders coeds. But if that’s your jam… well, it exists.

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swainlake · 5 years

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Hello! So now that got has ended I'm looking for some tv shows that I could watch after I'm done with my exams. Do you have any suggestions? I'm not looking for anything specific, although if you have watched some good period dramas, I'd love some recommendations. Also wanted to add how much I love your blog, it's really beautiful

tysm that’s so sweet!! i love giving recs so i’ve got a bunch that you might like under the cut; i’ve put a ♡ next to my favs

period dramas:

NEW WORLDS (2014)this one is a mini series, only 4 episodes long, but please don’t let that stop you! it’s about anti-monarchism and rebellion and forbidden love in the 1600′s & is set in both england and america. i cried more than once but the ending is so bittersweet and hopeful!!

POLDARK (2015—)i have a love/hate relationship with this one tbh. i started watching because of the main relationship but i ended up really into it for the side relationships instead?? the actual political plot doesn’t interest me but i love the drama between the family members. also i adore the women in this show, every single female character is well-written and realistic and you’ll love them all (even if at times you hate them). the men tho? the men are pretty much collectively the worst. “what’s wrong with the women in this family?” “the men.”

SPARTACUS (2010—2013) ♡i started watching this before i ever got into game of thrones but if you like the fight scenes in got, you’ll enjoy this! great characters, great fight scenes, great friendships. this one is based on gladiators who are fighting for their freedom.

THE WHITE PRINCESS (2017) ♡okay firstly and most importantly: jodie comer stars in this so you know it’s good. it’s also got michelle fairly (catelyn stark) in it though tbh she wasn’t my favourite character in this and i didn’t find her likeable at all. it’s not very historically accurate ofc but the relationship between henry/elizabeth is honestly the perfect enemies to lovers rep & always lowkey reminds me of book!sansa/jon possibilities

PAN AM (2011—2012)this one isn’t like game of thrones at all but it’s only one season and it’s super cute and has a lot of famous actresses in it like christina ricci & margot robbie. based on the adventures of a crew of pan am stewardesses, this is a good combination of lighthearted fun and chilling cold-war drama. an old favourite.

THE MUSKETEERS (2014—2016) ♡i’ll be gushing over this for years to come tbh it’s really just that perfect. the relationship between the musketeers is so lovely, the personification of ‘brotherhood’ really, but also the romantic relationships are really good too?? which for some reason i personally hadn’t expected. my fav couple is aramis/anne (anne is played by the actress who played roslin frey!) because the forbidden love & the respect and adoration between those two is just perfect but really every relationship (even the ones that don’t become endgame) are written very well

OUTLANDER (2014—)i haven’t watched every single episode of this one but from what i have seen it’s very good, and has some similar themes to game of thrones!! the sex scenes are epic, the main relationship is lovely, and overall its a very realistic show that features supernatural elements!

THE LAST KINGDOM (2015—) ♡i’m not going to lie: i started this series by skipping straight to 2x7 because i’d seen gifs of the relationship between aethelflaed and erik but it was so good i ended up going back and starting from the beginning! this show reminds me of ‘vikings’ more tham game of thrones but it’s not as gory and the characters aren’t all assholes. side note: if you love sansa stark as much as i do you’re gonna love aethelflaed, lady of mercia! she’s actually a real person but this show is based on a book series that looks super interesting! honestly the main character also kind of reminds me of jon snow

HARLOTS (2017—) ♡oh my gosh how do i describe this show?? the family dynamics are so! intricate! and! beautiful! honestly just stunning. everything about this show is s t u n n i n g. the costumes are colourful and vivid and honestly i’d recommend watching just for that but the storyline really does keep you hooked!! also: liv tyler and jessica brown findlay are love interests in this which is honestly a dream come true

BLACK SAILS (2015—2017)okay full disclosure; i haven’t actually seen this but i’ve heard very good things and it’s on my list!! it’s about pirates, i think there’s some queer rep (can anybody confirm??), and there’s lots of amazing women. again, allegedly.

dramas:

THE SOCIETY (2018—)i literally watched the entire first season in a single night so it must be alright, right? basically all you need to know about this is that a town full of teenagers go on a field trip & then return to find all their parents mysteriously missing and their town closed off from the outside world. it’s basically lord of the flies but modern! with some kick-ass friendships! and amazing young women (one literally teaches herself to be a doctor can you believe?)!

SHARP OBJECTS (2018)if you haven’t heard about this one yet idk what rock you’ve been living under but welcome back! this one is a m a z i n g but also hella chilling and the ending is such a shocker if it hasn’t been spoiled for you yet!

THE BOLD TYPE (2017—) ♡i always describe this one as ‘sex and the city for millennials’ but i’ve never watched a single sex and the city episode in my life so i honestly don’t know how accurate that is?? but it’s about a group of 20-something year old women who are best friends and work mates and they love each other so much?? the relationship between the girls is my favourite thing about the show but the show honestly tackles a lot of relevant issues; trump, age gaps, queer rep, immigration, racism, etc. i can’t recommend this enough!

CODE BLACK (2015—2018) ♡you know those episodes in greys anatomy where everything is life-or-death and you’re on edge for the whole episode? that’s basically every single episode of code black. this is hands-down one of my most rewatched shows ever. i love medical dramas and this one balances well written characters with action-packed medical miracles so honestly what’s not to like??

A DISCOVERY OF WITCHES (2018—)okay admittedly the only reason i watch this show is because of the main couple but i can’t help it when they’re just so gosh-darn cute!! they love each other so god damned much! i wasn’t completely sold on this straight away but by ep 3 i was HOOKED. if you like supernatural romances/dramas that are more mature than your usual cw show, this one is a good choice!

THE OA (2016—) ♡i can’t even put into words how much i adore this?? but also: it will confuse THE SHIT out of you. no matter how smart you are, this one will leave you scratching your head. basically: a group of people who’ve had near-death experiences get kidnapped and experimented on. it’s not as brutal as it sounds, in fact the show is exceptionally beautiful, but it does deal with some hard themes and the good guys don’t always win.

12 MONKEYS (2015—2018)do you like time travel? do you like forbidden and yet totally-still-devoted-to-one-another-anyway love? then this is the show for you! this one is dark and gritty and deals pretty realistically with the concept of time travel & self-sacrifice and what people will give up to create a better world. it’s got a happy ending & you wont regret watching!

THE HAUNTING OF HILL HOUSE (2018)oh this one will make you cry. in a good way though! long story short a family grows up in a haunted house and it affects them in ways they cannot imagine. it’s hauntingly beautiful and poetic and everybody should watch it at least once imo

comedies:

THE MARVELOUS MRS MAISEL (2017—)okay so this one counts as a period drama as well but it’s about a COMEDIAN so i put it in the comedy section lol. okay so long story short, a woman is left by her husband, she’s worth 1000 of him & everybody else knows it because you seriously can’t help falling in love with this woman but ofc there’s period-typical sexism she has to face as she struggles with being a single woman, a single mother, and an up-and-coming comedian. def recommend.

SANTA CLARITA DIET (2017—2019)drew barrymore is a zombie!! who lives a normal life but also eats people!! it’s only weird for the first couple of eps. the family dynamics are snarky and witty and they manage to make gore funny?? honestly this entire show is legit laugh-out-loud darkly hilarious.

#if you like any of these & want some recs that are similar please feel free to send another message!#i've got some movies you might like as well #cool ask tag

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forgedobsidian · 6 years

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Aphelion

A MHA fanfiction. Chapter 16 of 20.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11

Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15

AO3

Summary: Izuku has been kidnapped by All For One, for reasons the young boy doesn’t understand. He is forced to stay at a rundown facility, surrounded by villains and, for all he knows, completely without help. In-between his attempts to escape or learn why he has been stolen, the young boy spends his time with a near-comatose man who seems strangely familiar.

Trigger Warnings for: kidnapping, body horror, medical torture, needles, and pain

Naomasa sat in the waiting room, elbows resting on his legs and his hands hanging between his knees.

It’d been hours since Kuznetsov and Ricci had told him the news. The two officers were still standing guard over the Midoriyas, who had been moved to a hospital room. At some point they’d taken fingerprints from the other individual brought in with the boy, and the station had been able to verify what the Midoriya boy claimed.

It was him.

Toshinori.

Naomasa shivered and tried to keep from tearing his hair out. The waiting room was just on the edge of cold, and it made him tense. He wanted his coat.

A long-cold vending machine coffee sat on the table in front of him. He’d taken a few sips, but had felt nauseous afterwards. He hadn’t touched it since.

The chief at the station had been briefed on the situation, and had ordered Naomasa to stay at the hospital instead of going out with the search team. The detective couldn’t really remember the conversation, but he did remember the phrase ‘emotionally compromised.’

Naomasa cursed under his breath and ran his fingers through his hair. Something caught in his throat and he had to hold back tears. Everything felt fuzzy and distant, and it took him a while to register the footsteps making their way through the room.

He looked up and saw a woman with a doctor’s ID card clipped to the lapel of her pink scrubs. Her dark hair was cut short and curled around her ears. He couldn’t see her eyes - they were hidden behind a remarkably thick pair of sunglasses. Still, he could tell by the slump in her shoulders and the faint shuffle of her steps that she was exhausted.

“Are you Naomasa Tsukauchi?” she asked, her voice tired.

He nodded, not quite trusting himself to speak.

“Good.” She looked around the otherwise empty waiting room. “You’re on the emergency contact list. We haven’t managed to reach the others yet. Sorry for the wait. I needed a clean pair of scrubs,” she said, rubbing the side of her jaw as she sat down in the chair next to his. She leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees. “I’m doctor Eiko Mori. I’m Mr. Yagi’s surgeon.”

“H-” His throat closed and he coughed into his shoulder. “How . . .”

“He’s stable for now. We have him on fluids and a blood transfusion regimen.”

Something relaxed in Naomasa’s chest, and he felt the imaginary vice around his throat loosen. The sudden lack of tension nearly brought tears to his eyes. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and tried to regulate his breathing. “S-so he’s going to be okay?”

Mori took a deep breath. “I’m going to be honest. The state we found him in, combined with what I’m guessing are at least months, if not years, of severe neglect of previous injuries makes things . . . complicated.”

The world started to tilt a bit. “Complicated.” His voice sounded dead, even to his ears.

“Very.” Mori reached up and tapped the edge of her sunglasses. “I got some x-rays, and there’s a lot of internal damage that was handled poorly, to say the least. A blood panel revealed a nasty variety of drugs, mostly sedatives and addictive compounds that should never be mixed.” She shook her head and rubbed her temple. “He was in a bad way, and still is.”

Naomasa felt a weight settle on his chest. “What are . . . will he-”

“His chances of surviving to tomorrow are slim, and if he does wake up, there’s a possibility of brain damage.”

“Damage.” Everything was starting to crumble again, in a sickening echo of four years ago. Naomasa felt his heart stutter painfully in his chest.

Mori sighed. “He was delirious with blood loss, and we won’t be able to tell what the lack of oxygen did until he wakes up.”

“I - okay. Okay. What -” What do I do?

There was an odd wheezing sound.

“Breathe, detective.”

Naomasa forced himself to exhale and drag in a thin breath of air. He felt Mori’s hand on his shoulder. He swallowed and tried to relax.

“I’ll do everything I can, alright? He’s in good hands.”

He looked up at Mori, his face twisting. “I . . . can I see him?”

The doctor blinked. “Yes, you could. You’d just have to be quiet.”

“Of course.”

She gave him directions to Toshinori’s room, and then left him in peace. Naomasa took a deep breath, threw away his old coffee, and left the waiting room. The hallways seemed unnaturally empty, and he was thankful for that. He paused before walking into Toshinori’s room, hand resting on the doorknob. His fingers were shaking. He shook his head, took a deep breath, and turned the knob.

Naomasa walked into the hospital room, his footsteps quiet. The air felt frozen and slow, moving like sludge around his head. He swallowed and, without looking at the bed and the patient lying on it, closed the door behind him, cutting off the shallow noise from the hallway. Then, gut clenching with something panicked, he looked at the bed.

His first thought was: There’s no way that’s him.

The man was emaciated, the knobs of his skeleton pushing up against his skin and leaving smears of white with the pressure. A blanket was tucked under the thin body, leaving his arms and head open to the air. Even asleep, Naomasa could tell that his eyes were sunken. Painful-looking implants dotted his arms, and there was an odd bulge under the blanket on the left side of his body.

Then: it’s him. That’s Toshinori.

The mane of blond hair was gone, shaved down to Toshinori’s scalp, but it was still there, wiped clean by the nursing staff. His cheekbones were more prominent, but still held a familiar slant shifted and broken from his hero work. And as Naomasa moved closer, he could see Toshinori’s hands, long-fingered and broad, still coated in small, silvery scars.

His knees nearly gave out as he walked to the edge of the bed, resting his hands on the bumper. There was a nasal cannula running around Toshinori’s face, and an IV of clear fluid was running to his elbow. Another one, a blood transfusion, trailed out from underneath Toshinori’s shoulder. The blanket was stretched tight over his body, highlighting the sharpness of Toshinori’s hips and the heat packs tucked under his torso.

If it hadn’t been for the heart monitor and the faint rise and fall of Toshinori’s chest, he could have been mistaken as dead.

Naomasa opened his mouth, trying to speak, but all that came out was a strained breath. He pulled a chair close to Toshinori’s head, sitting down with a swallowed cry. He leaned forward and held his head in his hands, something crawling up his throat.

“Dammit.”

He’d searched for months, convinced that just a little more time and he’d find his friend, one way or another. He hadn’t, and Toshinori had paid for his failure with his blood and bone.

He reached out and ran his fingertips along Toshinori’s forearm, flinching at the faint chill, feeling the ridges where the arm had broken in the past. Small needle scars guided his hand directly to an implant, set into Toshinori’s skin.

“Toshinori,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m so sorry.” He lifted Toshinori’s knuckles to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the side of his gnarled hand. “I’m so sorry. But I’m here now, okay? S-so, you just rest. I’ll be here. I’m here.”

Izuku woke up slowly, enjoying the feel of the warm blankets and sheets. It was the first time he’d slept well in months, and he wasn’t willing to get out of bed just yet.

He could dimly remember his mother carrying him to a hospital room, and helping him shower and change into some clean clothes. At some point a nurse had put a hospital bracelet around his wrist.

Shifting under the blankets, Izuku turned, sat up, and looked around the room. Wide windows were to the right of the hospital bed, sunlight filtering through the glass and catching small dust motes in the air. A fluffy chair-and-a-half was nested in the corner, a familiar jacket folded up on the arm rest. Izuku sighed and brought his knees to his chin, enjoying the feeling of the soft sheets rubbing against his legs.

He felt warm. There was no mistaking this place for his cell. The windows were bright, the antiseptic smell was partially covered by the vase of flowers on a nearby table, and the air was comforting instead of cold.

“Oh, Izuku! You’re awake!”

He yelped and spun around in the bed, tangling the sheets. He saw his mother step out of a previously unnoticed room (Probably the bathroom, the analytical portion of his mind supplied) and she hustled to his side, reaching out to take his hand.

“How’re you feeling?”

He squeezed her hand and smiled. “A lot better!” He stretched his free hand toward the ceiling. “I feel super good, Mom.” There was still an ache in his muscles, and his forehead was starting to itch under the bandaid, but it was a wide gap away from where he’d been last night.

“Did you sleep okay?” Inko pulled the blankets back up over his knees. “I know these hospital beds can be uncomfortable. Oh! And I can call down for some breakfast, if you’re hungry.”

“Mom, it’s okay,” he said, smiling and patting the bed next to him. “I don’t really want to do much right now.”

“Oh, I see.” Inko perched herself on the edge of the bed, but scooted back and let her feet swing at Izuku’s look. Then, after a quick look, she pulled him into a one-armed hug.

Izuku looked up at his mother, feeling her hand gently ruffling his curls. “What is it, Mom?”

Inko gave a happy, tired grin. “I’m just . . . You need a haircut, sweetheart.”

Izuku rubbed at his bare chin. “I need a shave, too. My beard it out of control.”

His mom laughed and hugged his shoulders. Izuku smiled and let out a breathy laugh into her arms.

It felt a bit unreal. She was here, and he was safe and healing, and he felt warm and full even though he hadn’t eaten much, and for a scary moment he wondered if he was dreaming. Then his mother gently brushed back his bangs and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

Home.

They both flinched when the door opened, but Izuku relaxed when he saw the same nurse as last night. Nurse Umō was looking happy, her purple feathers twitching when she smiled at the pair on the bed.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to surprise the two of you!”

Inko shook her hands. “Oh, no, please! It’s fine. I don’t think either of us were expecting you this soon.”

“Well, I didn’t want to keep you two waiting.” She smiled and her feathers shivered on the back of her neck. “How’re you feeling, Izuku?”

“Fine. Better, actually.” He grinned. “A lot better!”

“That’s fantastic. I’m glad to hear it,” Nurse Umō smiled and sat down in a chair next to Izuku’s bedside,“Well, I have some good news for you.” There was a thin file held under her arm, and she pulled it out. “All of your labs came back, Izuku, and what they gave you won’t hurt you at all.”

Iuku felt his mom let out a relieved sigh.

“In fact, everything will cycle out of your body within the next two weeks,” she said, placing the file on a nearby table.

“That’s wonderful news, Nurse Umō,” Inko said, squeezing Izuku’s shoulder. “How soon can he come home?”

Umō gave a small smile, the feathers at the crown of her head shifting. “Well, we want you to stay for a few more days. There are still some tests we need to run, and it would be best to stay in a place where doctors are nearby, just in case. And I don’t know what the police will want to do, either. We’ll just have to see how they feel about things.”

Izuku nodded, and he felt his curls flop into his eyes. “That’s . . . okay, I guess. I mean, I understand.”

His mother pressed a kiss to his temple.

Izuku leaned into her one-sided hug. “Um, I . . . can I ask how Mr. Yagi is?”

The nurse smiled. “Of course. He’s your friend, right?”

Izuku nodded.

“Well, he went through some surgery, and right now he’s resting and sleeping.”

“Can I visit him?”

Umō’s smile faltered. “Not right now. We’re going to wait until he wakes up, then you can probably visit him when he gets a bit stronger.”

“. . . okay. He’ll be okay, though, right?”

The nurse looked at her hands for a moment. “We’ll have to wait and see, but I think he’s going to be fine. He’s already doing better than we thought he would, though he’s still sleeping pretty deeply.”

Izuku gave a sigh. He’s okay. We’re okay.

Izuku felt his mother’s grip tighten on his shoulder. “Thank you, nurse,” she said. “Are the two police officers outside still?”

“Yes. I think they’ll be here until you’re discharged, at least.”

She gave a quick nod. “Thank you.”

Umō gave the file a final pat and left the room, carefully pulling the door nearly-closed behind her, leaving it open just a crack. Izuku saw the side of Officer Kuznetsov’s boots before they were hidden from view.

Inko pulled away. “Izuku, sweetie,” she turned to him, “I might run home really quickly. If we’re going to be staying here for a few days, you and I will need some things. And I should say hi to your father and fill him in. Is that okay with you?” Suddenly she looked very worried. “I’ll stay here if you want me too, though! Anything is fine!”

Izuku felt a smile grow across his face. It felt a bit unfamiliar, but he liked the feeling. “I’ll be okay, mom. I might just go back to sleep, honestly.” His brain caught up to her words, and he felt his thoughts stall. “Wait. Dad’s back? As in, back back?”

His mother gave him a searching look. “Yes, he’s home. He was here last night actually, when you first got to the hospital.”

“I don’t really remember seeing him,” Izuku said, frowning.

Inko rested her hands in her lap. “Is it okay that he’s back?”

Izuku hesitated. Maybe . . . “Yeah, I’m happy he’s back home.” It felt a bit like being happy that a complete stranger was staying in their apartment, but still.

“Alright, then.” Inko pressed a kiss to his forehead and squeezed his shoulder with a sturdy hand. Then she stood and stepped to the door, pausing to rest her hand on the doorknob. She gave him a long look, as though she was memorizing him as he was now. “I’ll bring him back with me if he wants to come. Would that be fine?”

“Yeah, sure.”

She gave him a halting smile, another look, and stepped out into the hallway. Izuku, without thinking, clasped his hands over his ears before he could hear the latch on the door click closed.

Hours earlier . . .

Sensei was angry.

Shigaraki stood in the corner of the room, fingers tense and straining at his sides as he resisted the urge to claw at his neck. Murata was sagging in the chair that had formerly held the th- All Might - his face pale as his hands shook.

Senesi’s hands were clasped tightly behind his back. “You’re telling me that you were outsmarted by a child and a man on his deathbed, Murata?”

“They surprised me.” He let out a weary sigh and rubbed at the lump on his forehead. “I’m sorry.”

“Hmm.” Sensei’s hands tightened. “I wonder, Masumi, if you understand just what exactly you have cost us.”

Murata flinched and rubbed a finger along the bottom of the bruise spreading across his forehead. “I - I’m sorry, Sensei.”

“Indeed.” There was something sticky in Sensei’s words that sent a twinge down Shigaraki’s throat. The helmet canted to the side, looking over Murata’s workplace.

Shigaraki hunched in on himself. He hadn’t told anyone that he’d run into Midoriya and All Might on their way to freedom, or that he’d let them go. He’d even waited a while before going to Sensei and sounding the alarm that the two had escaped. He felt strange, guilty for a variety of different things but also . . . strangely content.

He gave a little jump when Sensei lurched forward, his arm nearly bulging through the simple suit as he augmented his arm with a strength quirk. His hand fastened around Murata’s throat and lifted the doctor into the air.

“If you fail me again, Masumi, I’ll kill you and leave you as practice for my noumu.”

Murata gasped around the hand at his throat, feet swinging back and forth.

“We’re moving. I suggest you pack everything.” Sensei gave Murata a final squeeze and let the doctor drop bonelessly to the ground. “The authorities picked up the pair some time ago, and for now, they’re out of reach. I expect a search team to be here soon, and I don’t want to leave anything for them that’ll make it easier. Tomura, with me.”

Murata was coughing around the red marks on his neck, one hand hovering over his windpipe. Shigaraki spared him a glance and followed Sensei out into the hallway.

He was moving stiffly, hands clenched behind his back, arm shrunk back down to it’s normal size. “We’ll need Kurogiri with us. I’d rather not tip my hand too much.”

“Sensei?” Shigaraki winced at the waver in his voice.

“Yes, Tomura.”

“Where are we going?”

Sensei’s voice was tight with anger. “Before we set up elsewhere, we need to . . . ah, arrange a meeting with the Eight Precepts.”

Author’s Note: Me, posting this chapter: “Gee, I sure hope that Toshi and Naomasa get a proper reunion soon.”

So, fun fact: Murata was originally supposed to die, but he kinda grew on me?? Like a bad case of athlete’s foot or something. And it seems like a lot of people really enjoy him as a character! I decided that I could do a lot more with him in the future, so he gets to stick around a bit longer.

Sorry for taking so long to get this chapter out ^^’ Real life happened (nothing bad!! Just regular business). Thank you all for your patience!!

ALSO!! @all-tight made some awesome art that left me on the floor screaming when I first saw it. Thank you!! And @raven-dreaming has been uploading super amazing drawings, too (1 2 3 4) You’re both super sweet ^^

#naomasa tsukauchi #all might #toshinori yagi #izuku midoriya #inko midoriya #shimura tenko #shigaraki tomura #mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #aphelion #YALL IM SO PUMPED TO BE POSTING THIS #forged fanfiction

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welcometophu · 6 years

Text

Extra: Biting Back the Word Torrent

It’s my birthday tomorrow. We have 151 followers here at PHU. And I just feel like sharing. So have a wee story from Alex’s point of view.

If you don’t remember, Alex is Dax’s little sister, currently a freshman in high school over in Valiant. And as it happens, she’s taking AP World History with Darrik Malone. This is her first day of the school year (and takes place during the beginning of the current canon school year, early in CttK).

Biting Back the Word Torrent

The first class of the day is AP World History with Mr. Malone, and Alex drags her feet in the hall. Lexy grabs her elbow, tugs her through the crowds on their way to the B wing, down the stairs and into the basement. Posters line the walls outside the various history and government classrooms.

She slows even more as they approach B-115.

“You realize this is going to be our best class all day,” Lexy says as the first bell rings. Students flood through the doors into classrooms.

They have exactly sixty seconds to get into that room and in their seats, and they’re late enough that they might not even get to sit together.

Alex still doesn’t move. She clamps her lips together like it can stop her from speaking. She shakes her head.

“Is this a thing?” Lexy asks, voice going gentle. “Because honestly, this is Mr. Malone. Remember we met him during the tour? He is so cute. He’s, like, not even very old. Like, Ms. Ricci is really nice and Honors English is probably going to be pretty cool, and we do get to do dissections and everything with Raddick in bio, even if he’s a boring old dud. But this class is going to be awesome.”

Thirty seconds.

All she needs to do is walk through that door and sit down and keep her mouth shut. She can do this.

Alex nods again, and Lexy grabs her elbow, yanks her through the door. They’re inside before the bell rings, and everyone’s staring at them.

That’s nothing new at least. Alex has been making splashes ever since she was little. Lexy gets dragged along by association.

Mr. Malone is seriously cute. Alex has to give Lexy that. He’s all scruffy and fuzzy, but not in a seriously hipster sort of way. It’s groomed and Alex bets he does it to make himself look older since he’s still just a kid really. Maybe not a kid, but not all that much older. Not old like most teachers are.

He wasn’t even here when Dax was in school. He just started teaching a year or two ago, and it only took a little bit of research to find out when he graduated from VIT.

Not that Alex is going to admit she was internet stalking her history teacher. She’s just going to grab one of the two seats left together and slink down in it. Let Lexy sit upright and get all the funny looks. Alex needs to get through class.

“I’m going to take attendance today,” Mr. Malone calls out. “When I call your name, let me know where you are. Don’t just say here, put your hand up. I want to fit names to faces. In the future, you can’t have a friend say here for you when you’re not. I’m going to get to know you. This is an AP class, and I know you’re all freshman, but this is where you learn how to high school, and you learn it fast.”

Great. They’re going to get personal on the first day. Alex is looking forward to this.

She gets out a notebook and doodles while Mr. Malone calls out names. There are maybe twenty-five kids in this class, so she’s got at least a little while before he gets to the K names. There are five kids whose last name begin with C alone.

“Alexis Katsoulis.”

“Alexia,” Lexy calls out.

Mr. Malone’s attention swivels to her. “Alexia,” he repeats, and makes a note on his sheet. “Sorry, it must have been a typo; a and s are next to each other on the keyboard.”

“It happens all the time,” Lexy excuses him. “Besides, she wants you to call her Alex.”

“She.” Mr. Malone looks over the edge of his paper, brows furrowed.

He’s weirdly adorable when he’s confused. Can teachers be adorable? Is it even okay to think that? Oh, God, she just needs to stay quiet.

Alex puts a hand over her mouth, raises her other hand slowly in the air.

“She’s Alex,” Lexy says, pointing at her. “I’m Alexis Tate, but everyone calls me Lexy.”

Mr. Malone’s attention is entirely on Alex now, gaze fixed on the hand she has covering her mouth. “You prefer to be called Alex?” he asks, and she nods quickly. “Are you feeling okay?”

That would be a great excuse. She could leave, pretend to puke, and hide in the girls’ room for the rest of the period.

And miss her first AP history class on the first day of high school. Great start.

Besides. The way her skin itches, this is only going to be worse tomorrow.

She nods slowly, lowers her hand. “I’m okay,” she manages to say before she clamps her mouth closed again.

Lexy leans close to whisper, “It’s really bad, huh?”

Alex nods.

She chews on a fingernail all through class, watching as Lexy takes over. For every question Mr. Malone asks, Lexy gets her hand in the air and answers them all with relaxed ease. Alex should be establishing herself as well, but it’s just not a good day for it.

Besides, Lexy’s distracting him. That’s helpful.

“I’ll meet you in Geometry, okay?” Lexy grabs her bag and ducks out, while Alex takes her time packing her things. She needs to get this over with, out of her system. She needs to be able to focus.

There’s a low cough, and Mr. Malone stands by her desk. She’s the only one left in the room. “Is there a problem, Ms. Katsoulis?”

She shakes her head. She opens her mouth to say no, sir, because two words should be manageable. Two words should be easy, before whatever word torrent wants to happen explodes out.

“It’s okay if you don’t ever get over him,” she says instead, heat warming her cheeks as soon as the words escape. “You’re not supposed to.”

He stares at her blankly, and her heart races.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “It just happens like that. At least now it’s done.”

It’s different when it’s her friends, or her brother’s friends. It’s easy to be confident then. They don’t control her grades. They don’t control her entire life. Mr. Malone may be young, but he’s still going to be the one who says if she passes or fails and she can’t do this, can’t just blurt things out that are random and confuse him.

It’s never happened to a teacher before, not that she remembers. Maybe because they’re old and already on the paths that are set for them. Maybe they don’t have forks still to follow, things to happen.

But Mr. Malone does, whatever it is. And Alex had to give him the message.

He hands her the notebook still left on her desk. “I’ll see you for class tomorrow, Ms. Katsoulis. If you didn’t get a chance to note the reading for tonight, please check with your friend, Ms. Tate.”

Alex nods.

She makes it to the door before that itch slides up her backbone again and she turns slowly. Someone bumps her on the way by, but she doesn’t really pay attention to them. “It’s latent,” she says. “And that’s okay. It’ll be there when you need it.”

Mr. Malone isn’t the only one staring at her now. There are two new girls in the classroom—maybe seniors—and the two boys passing by her on the way in.

Alex wishes she could explain, but it doesn’t work that way. It never has. She sighs. “I would promise that this would be the only time I blurt random cryptic crap in your class, except I can’t,” she admits. “Do with it what you will. I have no idea what I mean.”

The first bell rings and she has to push through a crowd to make it into the hallway. She has sixty seconds to make it across the entire school to the N wing for math, and there is no way she’s going to accomplish it. But at least the itch is gone from under her skin, and she feels like she can breathe without worrying that she’s going to scream nonsense to the skies.

And this is just the first day. Alex is pretty sure that high school is either going to be an adventure or a train wreck.

Or probably both.

#welcome to phu #welcometophu #phu extra #alexia katsoulis

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cyberstabbing · 7 years

Text

Non AUs/Somewhat Canon

Unequivocal - This is how it would have happened. 38k

Hear Me Out - It’s not so much the turning into a girl that’s a problem; that’s happened before. It’s the fact that Frank doesn’t turn back. 23k

Okay but this … was so much more than I could have hoped for. Definitely raised the bar for everything else.

Ice Cubes And Rubber Bands - “It’s hot.“

”Shut up.“

”It’s so fucking hot and I’m melting.“

“You’ve said that like fifty fucking times in a row now shut the fuck up and stop whining!” Frank grits through his teeth, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

“It’s not my fault that we are stranded here in the middle of fucking nowhere, Frank”, Gerard says, a bitchy undertone in his voice. It almost sounds like he’s trying to pick a fight. Frank takes a deep breath and closes his eyes; it’s too fucking hot to deal with Gerard’s allures right now. 7k (if you include part two)

Breakdown on the L.I.E. - Frank jerked awake when his dream was interrupted by a squealing banshee, which turned out to be the van grinding and squealing to a halt. 6k

every man - “I won't—we’re a band, Marc,” Gee says, “I’m not—shit. I’m not the girl who stays home.” 1k

with the lights on - Frank is weirdly chivalrous in some ways. He always opens doors for her, he lights her cigarettes like he’s in a forties movie or something, and he always offers her the last seat, even if it means that he has to sit on the floor. 10k

Sparkle Motion - For the next week, Gerard woke up every morning to a new list of Words that Describe how Gerard is In Bed pinned on the fridge. It disappeared after one of them wrote, ‘Sparkle Motion’ because, Bob explained to Gerard, they felt they’d nailed Gerard’s essence with that one. 6k

A Natural Reaction to Rough-housing - He made it to the bathroom and stood there leaning heavily on the sink, staring at himself in the mirror. He didn’t look like a creepy sadist. But neither did Christian Bale, and that hadn’t ended well for anybody. 27k

Sweet Caffeine (and Love of Liberace) - In which Brian tasered them into it, Gerard read too many comic books as a kid, Jamia isn’t worried about anything, and Bob doesn’t wear a codpiece. 4k

Now Honey, Don’t You Cry - Frank has always had an irrational fear of thunder, but when it causes a breakdown beyond that of ‘irrational,’ Gerard vows to find the truth. 6k

Pavlov’s Dog - It’s during one of their coveted hotel nights that Frank finally has enough. 1k

Reaching Through The Mirror - The one where Party Poison and Basement!Gerard have sex. 5k

(part one of Time Travel ‘verse)

James Cameron Got It Wrong - In which 2005!Frank and Fun Ghoul get it on. Then Frank accidentally winds up in 2019. 56k

(part two of Time Travel ‘verse)

Whatever I Want (Whatever That Is) - The first time Frank walked in on Gerard going down a girl in the dressing room, he was pissed. 9k

Distance in the Afterlife - Gerard comes out. 15k

The One Where Ray Can Hear Sex Dreams - I’m really sorry, Mr. Toro. But I didn’t make you have sex with anyone, as per your request. 2k

Heart On - From early days touring in vans to Projekt Revolution, the tour crew swears that they’re not homophobic, they just don’t want to see that shit. Frank takes it as a personal challenge. 13k

I died laughing like 17 times.

Just A Spoonful - It’s actually something of a relief when Frank walks onto the bus to find Gerard learning how to sabotage a car. It’s better than the last time, anyway, when he was trying to snort coke through a rolled-up condom wrapper. Or the time before, when he was passed out in a pile of glass shards. All things considered, wrecking random cars would be a step up for him. 1k

When I Think About You (I Touch Myself) - Van!era bodyswap. Gerard is a narcissist. 2k

You’re so cute when you’re slurring your speech - If this is what Frank wants, then fuck it. Just fucking fuck it. Frank can have it.(Or, Frank wants to bone Gerard. So he does. A lot.) 8k

Ride - This is the coolest place the band has ever stayed at. 15k

jerseymisery wrote this description: okay this is an ULTRA FAVE!! the whole fic has such a dreamlike sort of quality to it? it gives me such great vibes of like summer and transience and SHIT LIKE THAT.. it’s set during bullets i’m pretty sure which is. COOL. it just feels like a snapshot, a moment in time.. i really like it. go read it! it’s frank x gerard and mikey x an oc.

ierohero's write-up: https://ierohero.tumblr.com/post/188897569757/im-reading-ride-again-theres-literally-no

Link to author (they also wrote some fics below)

Sick - It was sort of sick, since Frank was, like, younger than his little brother, but Gerard had wanted to kiss him from the very first second he saw him standing up on stage and smirking into the microphone.

“Who’s that?” he asked Mikey.“That’s Frank,” Mikey whispered back, like it was some big secret or something, hissing the words into Gerard’s ear. “That’s the guy I want you to meet.”

“Figures,” Gerard muttered. It just fuckin’ figured that the first guy he’d wanted to fuck in, like, a semester would be the one Mikey wanted for the band. 5k

Broke - Frank is sick. A companion piece to Sick. 5k

Fucked Up - It’s hard to describe the multitude of ways in which Frankie is fucked up, although Gerard keeps trying. He lies in his bunk at night listening to the other members of the band breathing, soft radiator hisses, the occasional snore, and tries to enumerate to himself what’s wrong with Frankie. He thinks that maybe if he can figure out what the problem is, he can fix it. He’s always been sort of an optimist. 1k

Reasons We Don’t - “Why don’t we fuck?” Frank asks, tipping his head back to blow smoke at the sky. 7k

subterfuge of tiny proportions - It usually takes Gerard hours to wind down from a show. He has this crazy wired look in his eyes when they come offstage, all sweaty and flushed and jittery. He touches people more, talks a little louder, a little faster. Even now, even after all this time, it still gets to him. The nervous energy, the screams of the crowd, the music. Frank watches him every night, because when he is like that, he’s beautiful. And because when the stage buzz wears off, he crashes, hard and fast. 1k

He Told Me I Could Never Go Back - Everything was fine until Frank disappeared. 2k

this broke my heart.

Up Against Your Will (HERE is the chapter index) - Stepping into a world so different from their own, Frank and Gerard struggle to survive. 18 chapters

this was amazing, but also hard to read in some parts, bc of the non con and gore :/ not my cup of tea, but I did love the word building and the fic overall.

When I Was a Little Girl - Frank is a dyke. Period. She doesn't like boys. At all. But if you squint (or you're drunk enough) sometimes Gerard totally looks like a girl. 26k

Silken - Gerard can't help but notice the way Frank bites his lip and shifts in his seat when an interviewer brings up his day in drag. Frank's almost normal when he nudges Gerard with his shoulder, raising his hands in the air and laughing, "Oh, yeah. Man, you should have seen him - like Christina Ricci, you know?" but Gerard can still see the imprint of his teeth on his lower lip and files that away while he relates the story about how the conductor was really nice to him and how he'd managed figure out how to sit without crushing anything vital by the end of the day. <1k

Pushy Little Fuck - "Anyone ever tell you, Iero, that you're a pushy little fuck?" Gerard says, rearranging Frank against his side.

Frank just grins at him and says, "S'my middle name." Frank Pushy Little Fuck Iero. There's a song in there somewhere. 1k

The Kind They'd Like to Flaunt - When Frank first meets Gee, officially, it's because Ray saw Frank from across the room and put him into a headlock to get him over to his booth. 1k

How Dirty Boys Get Clean - Gerard stinks. Frank convinces him that bath time can be such fun. 1k i think?? maybe 2k

Under My Skin - "Maybe," Gerard had said one night, scratching idly at Frank's scalp, "it was something you ate?" "Maybe," Ray said, "it was some kind of sex pollen." Frank growled and said, "maybe if you don't shut up right now I'm going to kick your ass." 1k

Body of a Venus (lord, imagine my surprise) - Gerard is dressed like a girl and decides to pay Frank a visit. 1k

Never Looked Better And You Can’t Stand It - For once, Frank is the self-conscious one. 1k

In the Dark - The problem wasn’t that Gerard was stupid; the problem was that he wasn’t always the most observant guy around. Sometimes he just misses things that maybe he should have noticed. He hadn’t thought anything of it the first time Frank had pushed his hands out from under his shirt and said, “I’d rather touch you.”

(Or the one where chubby!Frank is really self-conscious and avoids having sex with Gerard with the lights on.) 2k

Jane Doe - Frank meets a mystery girl at a party. When she turns out to be not such a mystery (and not such a girl), he’s forced to make some hard choices. Set in fall 2000. This isn’t an AU, but some details have been changed. 9 chapters

This fic, man… this fic… An amazing read (though unfinished). Really shows how unbalanced affection and care can be, and leaves you uncertain yet hopeful for their relationship. Here’s an excerpt:

”The heat’s on as high as it goes,“ Gerard said, glancing over with concern. Frank wondered if Gerard would have noticed his trembling if they hadn’t been making out feverishly just a few hours beforehand.

Edit 22/10/2019: I just found out there was a ninth chapter?? Holy shit okay lets go.

Moonlight Model - Frank's a photographer. Gerard's a model. Only not really. 1k

Pack - Frank's a very playful werewolf. 1k

I Wish I Were A Ghost - Halloween is Frank Iero's birthday. It's also the day when the veil between the world of the living and the dead is at it's thinnest.

A ghost-story. Short and sweet. 1k

Immutable - Frank and Gerard are sitting in bed, talking about frank's tattoos, and it's beautiful. 1k

Curl - Gerard finds Frank tied to the seatbelt in the back of their tour van. Sexytimes ensue. 2k

no sleep - Gerard looked terrible, hollow-eyed and sweaty, and it was still only just after midnight. <1k

the second time the band saves gerard's life - soberty fic. 1k

Half the Battle - People tend to assume Gerard is an alpha. Frank knows better. 1k

Afresh - As much as Frank tells him there's never been a time he didn't love Gerard, Gerard knows Frank definitely doesn't miss the days when he could sometimes smell him from the other room. 1k

Just Because - By the time Gerard asked Frank to join the band, the only answer Frank had left for him was yes. 4k

Holding Out For An Iero - When Frank gets his chestpiece, he doesn't have sex for a week. 5k

An Inexplicable Occurrence of Angels - 35k

This was on my Fics-I-Can’t-Find-list, and since this one doesn’t have a description, I’ll just paste in what I could remember from reading it last year:

My Chem (minus Frank) broke up after Revenge. One day Frank kinda shows up (can't remember how). Frank's an angel with big wings and is hopelessly clueless about the world, so the rest or My Chem have to help him. They take him on walks and it looks like he has a hunchback bc of his wings. I think Frank doesn't even know any words in the beginning, but he learns english quickly. Loves watching movies. Everyone in My Chem basically crash at ray's place bc of Frank. And they're all Hey... maybe we should pick up the band again...?

UPDATE: okay i just reread it and it’s sooooo good holy shit. especially the last chapter. there was a comment on AO3 about how they would come back and reread the last chapter over and over again because it made them so happy. that’s probably what i’m gonna do from now on.

A Necessary Requirement - description by jerseymisery ... i think: it’s like a warped tour fic i believe, god it’s so fucking funny, the dialogue is gr8.. basically the whole fic is frank wanting to know what gerard’s dick looks like okay dhgvjsdghg. 3k

Twenty Percent Down - We're rock stars," Frank says firmly. "We're not moving back to live in our parents' basements." 7k

House hunting!

"What's your credit rating like?" he pants out. "I - what?" Gerard stops mouthing Frank's skin and lifts his head up. ^ Never fails to crack me up.

One Hundred Percent - (Almost. Maybe.) - Frank sighed. "I'm playing tonight," he said, firmly. "It is a fucking sore throat. Luckily, I am not the lead singer. I can play my fucking guitar with a sore throat. I can play it with my eyes closed. I am fine." (11,400 words of, you know, Frank being sick. A LOT.) 11k

Raspberry Swirl - The time that the whole band woke up as girls was maybe the weirdest. 16k

Away With The Boys In The Band - Behind the Music: My Chemical Romance, in the world where Mikey has always been a girl. 69k

Ship(s): Mikey Way/Otter, Mikey Way/Gabe Saporta, Mikey Way/Pete Wentz, Mikey Way/Alicia Simmons

^ I could not put this down. The writing is so so so spectacular, and the dialog is both interesting and realistic. A lot of angst, but still hilarious at parts. Please read.

Update because I need to add some things: Listen! Words can not express how obsessed with this fic I am. I made a mixtape for it. Fanart. Currently working on a ebook version of it so I can print it out. Guys. You do not understand how fucking fantastic this fic is. Don’t scroll away from me, I’m serious! Fucking click the link dammit. Click it. C’mon. I’m waiting–click iiiiit. You back yet? Yeah? What did I tell you! I know, it is amazing! You okay? Got tissues? Good. Okay now go wash your face and eat a snack. No, no, no need to thank me, the pleasure was all mine.

Any Way You Want - Gee Way is fronting early MCR when Frank spots them in a shitty bar and immediately finds himself immersed in the energy of the music; not to mention the addictive personality of the lead singer. 18k

Sucker Bet - Since Frank's currently got a sloppy handful of Gerard's hard-and-getting-harder cock, oops kinda seems like an understatement. But Frank's a practical kinda guy. 2k

A Helping Hand - Frank just wants to be able to jerk off. He doesn't think that's too much to ask. 6k

Frank the Failiest Vampire - Frank's a vampire, and he's finally ready to let the world know. 0.9

a not!fic

Three Sharp Bites - When Frank had imagined the joy of finally finding a helpless thrall who would tilt back his neck for him, displaying the jugular with a undertone of love and utter submission, he didn't really expect it to include the joy of being bent almost in two while his mate fucked the living shit out of him. 0.7k

part two of Frank the Failiest Vampire. This isn’t a not!fic though.

Fantasy Book - This was really, really not normal behavior for Gerard - not for real, normal Gerard, and it was even a little abrupt for the imaginary Gerard who lived in Frank's head and came out during his Special Alone Times with his dick. 16k

The Year of Living Safely - Post-sobriety MCR. This is as much about me and my own brother as it is about the Way boys, and Christ was it hard to write; it brought a lot of painful things to the surface. 12k

Incredibly painful but worth a read. Or ten. One-sided Frank/Gerard.

second word, one syllable - Prompt #60. Frank loses his voice and has to use notes, texts, charades, etc. to communicate. 4k

More Than He Can Say - Frank doesn't know what it is about tonight. 2k

I've Got Friends in Closed Spaces - Written for the no_tags challenge for the prompt of 'accidental frottage.' Set in the middle of a tour, vaguely 2004. 4k

it’s the hide-and-seek fic! i’ve been looking for this for an eternity.

First Class - Gerard is totally disturbed, because he's sort of obsessed with making Frank drool. 1.6k

Party Games (Eureka!) - Gerard has awesome ideas. 2k

MCR: untitled no.1 - Gerard plays piano in the loosest sense of the word - plays, with fingers stuttering a little in the air above the white keys and even more over the black ones; body hunched over and shoulders tucked in as soft lines form between his eyebrows. Zero-point-something k.

and here’s another piano drabble by the same author!

just like it was - Basically, I had this really urgent desire to write about Gerard's high school reunion. <1k

love on the webways - As a writer, Grant supposes he could have considerably worse habits than trolling his own message boards.

A totally ridiculous AU vaguely inspired by You've Got Mail. 32k Grant/Gerard

This was so fun to read! It’s a what-if-they-broke-up-after-tbp fic btw.

you weaseled your way into my heart (and ferreted out my feelings) - You gotta watch out for those bands with umlauts. 5k

Reverberation - Frank feels like he just fell off the stage, staggered directly from the lights and out into the long hallway backstage, tipping over into the momentary quiet. 1.5k

Not a Pretty Girl - 28k

Gen. Always-been-a-girl fic featuring kick ass female drummer, Bob Bryar. The story is a series of shorter fics all about her life before MCR, growing up as a woman in the Chicago scene, touring with The Used, joining MCR and everything that comes with that. It's awesome. + art!

I Am a Patient Boy - So this is an AU about Gerard being a girl named Helen (after her...grandmother?) and Frank being sort of, head over heels. 5k

“He goes to the next show alone. It’s in this basement club, red-lit and smoky. Frank stands on a chair at the back of the room. Over everyone’s head so he can get a good look.”

This fic follows Frank as he leaves Pencey Prep and joins My Chem in 2001. The author changed a lot of details though, so I recommend thinking of it as an AU in how the band formed. Unless you want to yell at your screen at 1am for it getting the timeline wrong (like I did).

Not Smashing Windows - In the beginning, they were the scene. An origin story. 32k

From Gabe’s POV, and it’s done flawlessly. It somehow emulates the same feeling one gets from stumbling across an overlooked short film at three a.m. on youtube. The one you can’t help but wonder about, how it is that you’ve never heard about it before. Like it is in its own bubble of existence. Feeling afraid to even breathe or look away, afraid that it’ll disappear at any time, that it was too good to be true. Something you shouldn’t be able to hold in your hands. This fic feels incredibly personal to read. Gabe’s longings of intimacy, the hopelessness at parts. I could feel my fondness for the characters grow enormously in this fic. The wording and conversations and scenes paint a brilliant picture that will stay with you for a long time. I know it will for me at least. Ship: Gabe Saporta/Mikey Way

For a Different View - AU. Ray Toro is a girl, Rae, but MCR is still just MCR. 49k

The first time they went over to Mikey's house, Mikey tossed her a beer and said, "My brother might come up. Maybe not, though. He gets weird in the middle of projects." She found out what he meant halfway through Dawn of the Dead, when a bundle of black fabric barreled from the basement door to the refrigerator and back down to the basement without saying a word to either of them.

I need to finish this!!! But –gah. Such awesome awesomeness. Ship: Ray/Mikey

Double Exposure - “The worst part was the confession. Well, the explanation sucked too.” Written for prompt 38. Frank/Mikey - Frank and Mikey bodyswap during tour and have to play shows as each other. 2.5k

Frank isn’t part italian in this fic. He’s part alien! :D Ship: Frank/Mikey

Anti-Sex (It Comes Around remix) - The first time Frank ever really talked to Mikey's brother it was at a house party somewhere in the shitty part of the Oranges. Before that, Gerard was just Mikey's weird older brother. In Frank's mind, their interactions were always relative to Mikey, spinning out from him, Mikey first, Gerard a trailing but connected afterthought. At that party, though, Mikey's brother was a little buzzed and cheerful with it, talking with a charisma and charm Frank hadn't seen before.

Here’s a v 2018 relevant part: “Hey, you bring me my voter's registration, I swear I'll turn it in." "You're not even registered to vote?" Gerard said, and brought a hand up to run his pinky across his eyebrow like it was all just too much, and Frank laughed.

Crooked Crown - There's always a voice in the back of Frank's head, tiny and barely registering after years of shrugging it off, but still present nonetheless. It says things like, this is a bad idea, and it's satisfying now, but there'll be consequences later. Or, this is the line and you're about to cross it. Someone had once said that Frank had no conscience, which wasn't true because hi, voice in his head. He totally did have a conscience - it was just that he wasn't much of a slave to it.

In any case, the voice dampens out even quicker than usual this time and he's then free to scribble 'BALLS' in Sharpie over each page of Gerard's brand new issue of Hellboy before stuffing it back underneath the seat to be discovered later on. 4k

“The next day they're in Austin, and it feels like an armpit. Mikey walks around with his fingers splayed out, trying to prevent any part of his body from touching another”

^ Ah Mikey, never stop being so relatable. Anyway, this was hilarious. I love how petty both of them were. Poor Ray with his head in his hands!

Rappelling Down Mount Vesuvius - 1k | Gen

I love reading little snippets of their lives like this. Just the right amount of fluff and backstory for something bittersweet and hopeful.

down to the water - Things were better than they were a month ago, hell, a week ago, but that wasn't saying much. A week ago, Gee was stumbling drunk on a stage in Japan and puking so much Frank had honestly been afraid she was going to die. So, while her over-caffeinated, white-faced sobriety of today was a welcome change, Frank still felt like they were all on the edge of disaster, that everything they'd worked so hard for could still collapse around them. 10k

New Rule - Pitch-black basement sex. 2k

Frank is jammed in between Gerard and the wall. He made Gerard check the entire basement for spiders before they turned off the crazy-bright fluorescent strip light, but he’s still wrapped himself up in the blankets like a burrito, jamming the edges under his body until he’s fucking airtight. “If you stretch you’ll pull the blankets out,” he says, muffled because his face is pressed under Gerard’s chin. “And then the spiders will get in, and then I’ll have to kill you.”

Oooh nooo, they have to share the bed. [cackles loudly]

Kiss The Bottle - A drunk wizard slips Frank a love potion while the band is in between tour dates. Chaos and mischief ensues. 35k

An impeccable casting of the wizard, I must say. lol

Don't Fear the Reaper - Gerard's not the greatest with faces but there's one that keeps crossing his path that he can't ignore. 4k

THE SCENE IS DEAD - 20k

Can’t remember who wrote this description (it’s on my to-do list) (was it disenchanted?) but THEY PUT IT INTO WORDS: “I don't know how to begin to describe this one... It's written in an unusual format - ie. a lot of it is told through newspaper articles and webpages but it's one of those super haunting fics that stays with you for days. I don't think there are any triggers listed so be warned there are character deaths and supernatural stuff.”

And I really don’t have more to add. I don’t even want to say anything more because honestly for this fic, the less you know the better. For me the experience of reading it was made a hundred times better just by the emotional rollercoasters I was put through. Lol. Trying to figure out what was going on/going to happen next was really fun.

Candy Cane Vodka - "Yeah, Mikey, you accidentally made fucking peppermint Everclear. Congratulations and all, but Jesus Christ."

Mikey gets an idea on the road after finding a bargain bin book on homemade infusions. Experimentation follows, and Yuletide chaos ensues.

ngl... i’m tempted to make that vodka mixture

Ships: Mikey/Ray, Frank/Gerard

#frerard #frerard fic #frank/gerard #rec list

7 notes · View notes

forgedobsidian · 6 years

Text

Aphelion

A MHA fanfiction. Chapter 15 of 20.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11

Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14

AO3

Trigger Warnings for: kidnapping, body horror, medical torture, needles, and pain

Especially medical stuff in this chapter.

Inko nearly fell through the doors of the hospital, Hisashi right behind her. Her coat was haphazardly thrown over her shoulders, and one of her shoes wasn’t on all the way. The minute she’d been contacted by Detective Tsukauchi both she and her husband had bolted out of the door. The ride to the hospital had been tense and quiet, Inko’s grip on her phone nearly cracking the case. She’d bolted from the taxi before it had pulled to a complete stop, her heart pounding and skittery in her chest.

Then, for the first time in six weeks, she saw her son.

“Izuku!”

Her son turned, his face twisting when he saw his mother. He ran to her and Inko knelt down, pulling him into her arms. Something warm shifted in her heart, and the world felt right.

“Mom,” Izuku whispered, hands fisting the coat around her shoulders.

“My Izuku,” Inko said, feeling a fresh well of tears build in her eyes. Her son felt skinnier than he’d been before, and he shook in her arms. “My little Izuku. Mom’s here.”

“Mo-om,” Izuku sobbed. Inko felt a wet spot start to grow on her shoulder, and held him tighter even as tears built in her own eyes.

A shadow blocked out the hospital lights. “We should move to an examination room, Mrs. Midoriya.”

She looked up to see Officer Kuznetsov peering down at the both of them with a gentle expression.

“Okay,” Inko said, standing. She didn’t let go of Izuku, instead keeping him balanced on her hip like she used to when he was young. Izuku just tightened his grip around her neck and threw his legs around her waist as they walked down the hallway and into an empty room.

Inko sat down on the waiting examination table, Izuku shifting to sit next to her without releasing his grip. Hisashi settled in a out-of-the-way chair, fingers tying themselves into knots between his knees.

“A nurse will be by to give him a quick checkup.” Kuznetsov crossed her arms and shifted her weight. “The detective will be here soon. He’ll want to see you, but we’ll give everyone a bit before we start asking questions.”

“Alright. Thank you, officer.” Hisashi stood up and bowed.

She held up her hand. “No thanks necessary, Mr. Midoriya. We’re just happy to see you all together.” She gave a warm grin and backed out into the hallway. “I’m just outside the door if you need anything.”

The door closed with a click, and Izuku shivered and huddled closer to Inko. She held his shoulders and rubbed his back as he buried his face in her arm. He hadn’t even seemed to notice Hisashi. “It’s okay, Izuku. I’m here. Nothing’s going to hurt you.”

Hisashi slipped back into his chair, opening his mouth to say something. Inko shot him a look. His face twisted and he settled his gaze back on the floor without saying anything.

Inko held her son close, her eyes slipping closed, feeling him breathe next to her. She rested her cheek on the top of his head and pressed a kiss to his temple.

My baby boy. I have my baby back in my arms.

Inko heard a knock at the door and opened her eyes as it swung open. Detective Tsukauchi and a nurse moved into the room, the detective sporting a slightly frazzled appearance and the nurse with a stainless steel tray clutched in her hands.

“Hello, detective,” Inko said, keeping a firm hold on Izuku.

He nodded in greeting. “Mrs. Midoriya.” He knelt down in front of the examination table, hands clasped on his knees as he looked up at the pair. “And Izuku. I’m happy to finally meet you. My name is Naomasa Tsukauchi, and I’m the detective who’s been looking for you. It’s good to see you safe.”

Izuku shifted and gave a slow nod. “Hello.” His voice was quiet, and something in Inko’s chest squeezed.

Tsukauchi smiled. “Nurse Umō is going to take care of you for now, okay? Depending on what she says, you might have to stay the night in the hospital. Is that alright?”

Izuku hesitated and looked up at Inko. She nodded and rubbed small circles into his shoulder.

“I . . . okay. That’s okay.” Izuku sniffed and sagged against Inko’s side.

Tsukauchi nodded and stood up. “Hopefully you’ll be home soon, okay? I’ll need to talk to you about what happened, but unless there’s something really important you think I should know right now, we’ll wait until you’re rested.”

“I -” Izuku sighed. “Not really, but . . . be careful. They’re dangerous.” He whimpered and pressed his head against Inko. “My head hurts.”

Inko kissed the top of his head. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

The detective shifted on his feet. “Who’s dangerous, Izuku?”

He clenched his eyes shut, his voice a rough whisper. “The villains.”

“Were they keeping you captive?”

Izuku nodded, his face going pale. Inko hummed in the back of her throat and shot a worried look at the detective.

Tsukauchi got the hint. “There’s no need to talk about it just yet.” He rested his hand on the doorknob. “Just remember that you’re safe now.”

Izuku’s voice was muffled by Inko’s sweater. “‘M’kay.”

The detective looked at Inko. “Kuznetsov and Ricci will be staying here, just to keep an eye on things.”

Inko nodded. “That’s wonderful. Thank you, detective.”

He gave a tired smile and closed the door behind him. The nurse stepped around the room, placing the tray on a nearby countertop and fiddling with some of the instruments she’d carried in with her.

“Alright, Izuku. I’m going to give you a checkup. Just to make sure you’re okay. Do you feel up to standing on a scale?” Nurse Umō’s voice was gentle, and her face was soft. Instead of hair, she had purple plumed feathers resting flush against her head and the back of her neck. She smiled as she turned to look at the pair on the table.

Izuku gripped Inko’s sweater. “N-not really. I feel kinda sick.”

Inko squeezed his shoulder and pressed another kiss to the top of his head.

The nurse nodded in understanding. “That’s okay. We don’t need to get everything done right away. Is it alright if I look at your eyes and ears?”

He sniffed and nodded, and Inko felt her heart break a little more when she saw the dark shadows under her son’s eyes.

The room was quiet as Umō looked over Izuku’s eyes and ears, and she gently tipped his head one way then the other, asking if it hurt. Both the nurse and Inko eyed the bandage over Izuku’s brow when he winced, and Umō was gentle as she settled her hands on the edge of the table.

“Can you tell me what happened to your head, Izuku? Does anywhere hurt?”

Izuku gripped Inko’s shirt. “I fell. And . . .” He temporarily let go of Inko, tugging his sleeves down over his hands.

Inko looked at him, trying to hide the worry in her voice. “Izuku? Honey?”

“Sweetheart, can I see your arms?” The nurse held out her hand, her face carefully neutral.

Izuku shuddered and held his left wrist. The nurse gently held his hand and pushed his sleeve back. Inko choked back a gasp at the uniform red marks that dotted Izuku’s skin. The needle points were bruised around with purple and brown, and Izuku winced when the nurse gently ran her finger along his arm.

“Did they give you anything, Izuku?” The nurse was looking at her son’s face, compassion thick in her eyes.

Her son nodded, and Inko felt something impossibly angry bloom in her chest. She whimpered and clenched her eyes shut, holding Izuku tight against her.

The nurse sighed. “I’m sorry, honey. I’m going to have to draw some blood, okay? We need to make sure you didn’t get anything that’ll hurt you.”

Izuku went ridgid in Inko’s arms.

“Izuku?” She opened her eyes and leaned down, resting her head next to his ear. “I know it’s scary, but we need to know that you’re not going to be s-sick. I’m right here. Nothing’s going to hurt you.”

The nurse shot her a grateful look and started to prep a syringe. “I’ll be quick, okay? I promise.”

Izuku was shivering. Inko held him close, turning his head into her shoulder and pressing her mouth to the top of his head. The nurse moved quickly, holding a cotton ball and a bandaid over the leftover mark. Inko didn’t watch -- her entire focus was on her son. She whispered in his ear, holding him close as the nurse finished.

“Alright, all done.”

Izuku flinched when the nurse spoke. Inko and Umō exchanged looks of concern, which Izuku missed as he gingerly lifted his head from Inko’s shoulder.

Umō gestured to her forehead. “This happened when you fell, right?”

Izuku nodded, one hand reaching up to trace the edge of the bandage.

“Can I take a quick look?”

He nodded again.

The nurse gently peeled the bandaid free, her eyes closely looking at the damage.

Inko peered at her son’s forehead, hands still clasped around his shoulders. There was a bit of swelling, though the bruising had gone down to faded purples and yellow. There was a small scab across the arch of his brow, cutting through his eyebrow.

“Well, that’s healing nicely. We’re going to let it get some air, okay?” Umō grinned.

Izuku gave her a hesitant smile in return.

The nurse stood up and started to write things down on a pad she pulled from her pocket. “We’re going to keep you in the hospital for a day or two, okay? Just to make sure you’re okay and safe.”

Izuku tensed and leaned buried his head into Inko’s shoulder. His voice was a trembling whisper as he said, “I want to go home.”

Inko felt tears prickle at the corners of her eyes. “I know, honey.” She rubbed soothing circles into his shoulder blades. “I’ll be here the whole time. You won’t be alone.”

Her son shivered, and Umō pushed a blanket from the nearby cupboard around his shoulders. “It’s very temporary, kiddo, I promise. You’ll be safe and with your family. We’ll all take care of you, okay?” She gave a gentle smile as she patted the blanket around his back.

Izuku tucked his chin under the edge of the blanket. “. . . ‘kay.” His eyes narrowed, surprisingly sharp for all the exhaustion in his face. “Um, miss nurse?”

“Yes?”

Izuku fiddled with the bottom of Inko’s shirt. “. . . Mr. Yagi.”

Umō’s eyes softened. “The man you were brought in with?”

Izuku gave a shaky nod. “I . . . is he, um.”

The nurse smiled. “I’ll go and check with Dr. Mori and see how he’s doing.”

Izuku sighed and nuzzled his head under his mother’s chin. “Thank you.”

Umō gave a nod and left the room, leaving Inko with her son. Izuku put his arms back around her chest and curled close to her body. Hisashi was still in his seat, staring at the floor. Inko noticed the faint stubble on his jaw, and the shadows under his eyes.

“I love you so much, Izuku,” Inko whispered, feeling her son sag into her side. “I-I’m here. It’s okay.” She brushed back his hair, some part of her mind noticing that he’d need a haircut. “How do you feel, sweetheart?”

“Tired.”

Inko started to rock slowly back and forth on the examination table. “You can rest now, honey. A bit in the hospital to make sure you’re okay, then we can go home. How does that sound?”

Izuku nodded and yawned. “‘N we gotta make sure Mr. Yagi’s okay. ‘S a friend.”

“I - of course.” Inko felt Izuku start to sag against her belly, sleep finally tugging down his tired eyelids.

She didn’t think about whoever this Mr. Yagi was, or what they might find in Izuku’s blood. She didn’t think about the bruising, or the needle marks, or the thinness of her son as he pressed against her. She just rocked back and forth, gently combing through his hair with her fingers, feeling him breathe against her.

My baby boy is home.

“Toshinori Yagi, age unknown,” the aid said as they ran alongside Eiko. “Suspected drug withdrawal, malnourishment, and shock.”

“Right,” she said, and kept her hand splayed across Yagi’s quivering shoulder, holding him tight to the gurney. “Prep a blood panel. We’ll keep him on saline, but I don’t want to give him anything until we know what he has in his system.”

“And the implants?”

“We’ll deal with those when he’s calmed down.” A violent tremor had Yagi arching his back against the hands of the other aids, and a muscle in his jaw was spasming. “I don’t want tools around him like this.”

The aid nodded and sprinted down the hallway, skidding around a turn towards the trauma unit. Eiko continued alongside the gurney, helping the others push it along the hallway. Yagi had stilled somewhat, the massive tremors giving way to weak shivering. Mori didn’t like the way he was losing energy, and his bare skin was coated in a layer of sweat and dust.

Then her eyes fell to the tips of his fingers. At first she took the purple discoloration for bruising, but then she noticed the fast heart rate she could feel in Yagi’s wrist, and the straggling wheeze in his chest.

“He’s going hypoxic,” she said, her voice jumping to make herself heard. She activated her quirk, her vision slipping past his skin and muscle, and peered into his chest. Nausea jumped up her throat, but she swallowed it back down. “Change of plans. We’re going directly to surgery.”

“Ma’am?”

“He’s drowning.” She shook her head. “He doesn’t have his left lung, and the right looks like it’s had a segment resection. He’s developing a pulmonary edema.”

“Right.” All the aids worked together to push the gurney around the corner, opposite from the trauma center.

Eiko moved quickly, allowing the aids to prep Yagi for surgery as she washed her hands and slipped into an operation gown. When she walked into the theater, the grimy pants Yagi had been wearing had been cut away and an aid was starting to clean down the right edge of her patient’s chest with orange antibacterial wash. A nurse quickly took a sample of blood and slipped out of the theater, taking the vial with him to do a blood panel.

Eiko stepped forward after a protective sheet had been put down around Yagi’s chest, and she held a scalpel along the right-sided curve of his ribcage. She spared a glance for her patient, taking in the unnaturally pale skin and the jutting bones. They’d used as little anesthesia as possible, and had already started a fluid line in the corner of his left elbow. An oxygen mask covered his face, and there were small puffs of fog as he breathed.

Eiko gave Yagi’s shoulder a comforting pat and started to cut.

She’d been working in the medical field for eight years, mostly as an emergency responder and surgeon. Her quirk, “Wavelength”, let her see in a variety of light spectrums, from x-ray to infrared. Her eyes were small black holes, not giving away any light, and appeared completely black. She’d worked at aftermaths of natural disasters, from fires and hurricanes to mudslides. She’d been a first responder to accidents, from automobile collisions to bridge and building collapses. She’d been a the sides of civilians after villain attacks, and had treated more injuries than she could remember.

While putting a shunt into a chest cavity wasn’t a particularly difficult surgery in itself, Yagi’s shuddering breaths made her cautious about where she was cutting, and that he had so little lung left to lose made her sweat.

She forced herself to focus on the problem in front of her, unwilling to look at the portions of his body that didn’t pertain to his chest. She tried not to think about the stark signs of abuse and neglect, the needle marks up and down his arms, the disturbing ports in his arms and chest and back, or the faint bruises that dotted his body from where his skeleton pushed up against his painfully thin muscle and skin. The scars on his torso, the sickening injury on his left side that was twisted and wrinkled further by ports, was resolutely pushed to the back of her mind.

Then he woke up.

His eyes opened and went wide as he jack-knifed up off the table, pulling the oxygen dispenser with him. Eiko jerked her arms away, avoiding skewing her patient with a narrow scalpel.

Yagi was delirious, sweat coating his forehead and his eyes hazed over. He tried to pull at his IV’s, and the incision Eiko had already made was torn further and started to bleed out of control. She and the aids all grabbed at his arms and legs, trying to keep him from hurting himself any more than he already had.

“N-no, ngh,” he said, his voice rough and garbled. Then he looked down and saw the bleeding incision in his side. Yagi froze, limbs locking in place, and something felt very, very wrong as he whispered, “Please, no.”

“Mr. Yagi,” Eiko said, trying to get his attention. “Calm down. You’re in surgery.”

His blurred eyes skipped right over her. Eiko moved closer. “You’re safe. We’ll take care of you, okay?”

He looked confused, then exhausted, then his eyes rolled in his skull. He went completely limp, and Eiko had to grab his head to keep him from knocking it back against the operating table. He’d blacked out, she was sure. The anesthesia hadn’t done anything.

Eiko didn’t allow herself to think long on the fear in his eyes, or the drained resignation she’d seen before he went unconscious.

“He must have a built immunity to anesthesia,” Eiko said as she wiped at her forehead with her shoulder and bent back over her patient. “Keep an eye on him, but don’t give him anything more. Not until we know what all is in his system.”

It was going to be a long night.

Naomasa smiled and shook his head as he closed the door behind him, leaving the Midoriyas in the care of the nurse.

“Maybe this is a little sappy, but I really love that part of my job,” he said, scratching the back of his neck and looking at the floor. He didn’t catch the glance Dana and Marco shared between the two of them.

“Me too, sir,” Dana said, turning to walk back down the hallway alongside her partner.

Naomasa pinched his chin with his fingers. “An abandoned quarry, you said?”

Marco nodded. “Along with an old railway, fairly close to the bar that you got a tip about. We would have looked around more, but we had to focus on getting back to the hospital.”

Dana crossed her arms, eyes following the reflected lights on the floor. “We contacted the chief, and he’s sending out a patrol to search the area. They should be on their way now.”

“Good. I’ll head out, then, and meet them there. Apparently it’s a villain nest. They’ll need all the help they can get. That being said,” he turned to the pair, “I want you two to stay with the Midoriya’s. They’ll appreciate the extra security.”

“About that,” Dana rubbed the back of her thick neck, “you might want to stay here too, actually, detective.”

Naomasa quirked a brow. “Why?”

“It’s something the kid said. It was pretty surprising.”

Naomasa rested his weight on one leg. “And?”

“It was about the man he was found with. The one they’re working on right now.” Dana’s eyes skittered along the floor. “Apparently he and Midoriya escaped together. The kid said they were friends.”

“He said this guy,” Marco took a breath and gestured back towards the emergency center, “was named Toshinori Yagi.”

For a moment the world seemed to freeze. Naomasa turned slowly, something old and wounded clawing its way free in his chest. “He said what?”

Author’s Note: I’M SUPER SORRY FOR HOW LATE THIS CHAPTER IS GETTING POSTED! I know I said in the last author’s note that it would be about two weeks, but time did that thing that time does i.e. it didn’t stop. Also this chapter needed more cleaning up than I was expecting. Thank you all for your patience ^^

It was super heartwarming to see how many people were looking forward to this fic being updated. Thank you!!! <333 Also everyone being slightly wary bc there’s only a couple of chapters left made me laugh. No worries - I have long term plans for this fic :)

Mori is a character I’ve had in mind for a while. Shoutout to my old astronomy textbook for helping me figure out the workings of her quirk!! Also, I generally try to be fairly accurate with medical stuff, but there’s always a chance I’ll get something wrong.

Thanks for reading!!

#toshinori yagi #izuku midoriya #all might #inko midoriya #naomasa tsukauchi #mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #aphelion #kgjdhslkjfdg here it is!#forged fanfiction

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