#IN THE ORIGINAL. he wakes up in the hospital and the nurse like talks to him or whatever and then she comes in again and hes like ?? u were | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

infizero · 10 months

Text

ok guys i dont wanna be a hater but im gonna be 100% honest i didnt rlly like the nimona movie 😭 I MEAN IT WAS FUN. it was nice. but i feel like it was missing everything that made me like the original graphic novel and honestly by the last like 30 minutes i was kind of just waiting for it to be over so i could read the book again 😭 NO HATE TO ANYONE WHO RLLY LIKED IT believe me when i say i dont think it is bad or anything. but i feel like just sooooo much was changed that it didnt feel like nimona at all to me. idk how to explain it, im sure once i reread the book i’ll be able to put it into words since the original will be more fresh in my mind. i think it was good but as someone who was literally obsessed w the og graphic novel it was honestly kinda disappointing. but i dont rlly care honestly its still rlly cool it got a movie!!

but in my mind at least it proves that some things dont need to be made into a movie. ppl act like movies are the best form a piece of media can take and if something gets made into a movie then that’d be the peak form of it. but i honestly think nimona works wayyyyyy better in its original graphic novel form. most of the early stuff is way more slice of life lowkey stuff that lets you get attached to ballister and nimona as characters and get invested in their relationship w each other, BEFORE all the angsty final act stuff happens. also there honestly was just a ton of stuff that felt to me like it worked better in the original, like jousting tournament thing instead of the knighting ceremony, nimona being captured and being forced to turn into her “true” form rather than this new version with it just sort of happening bcuz of Emotions, etc. also the movie suffered from a lot of pacing and tone issues imo but the former i think is just from that lack of the slow buildup of their friendship, and the latter is something that i think just worked better in the book. idk again I’LL BE ABLE TO SAY THIS STUFF MORE CONCRETELY WHEN I ACTUALLY REREAD THE BOOK but i dont remember there being so much jokes and goofy shit DURING serious scenes. like iirc in the original during serious scenes it was SERIOUS. but in the movie theres so many unnecessary unfunny jokes and stuff. idk IDK i probably just had too high expectations idk. anyways

#also im kind of mad they changed the ending i know it works similarly but like THE TONE IS TOTALLY DIFFERENT #in the movie ballister goes back to the lair and you hear her voice and he gets all excited and goes ''HOLY SHI-'' and then it cuts to title #which seemed rlly lighthearted and played for laughs and srry but THE ENDING OF NIMONA ALWAYS MADE ME CRY SO IT LOWKEY PISSED ME OFF ToT #IN THE ORIGINAL. he wakes up in the hospital and the nurse like talks to him or whatever and then she comes in again and hes like ?? u were #just here. and shes like no?? and then he sees on the clipboard the nurse left behind the firsttime theres a shark drawing (or smthn)#clearly drawn by nimona. and you see his eyes widen and he rushes out of the room and he runs through a crowd desperately trying to find her #and then he sees her there. in the crowd. and he just stares looking sort of heartbroken. and she gives him a quiet bittersweet little wave #and then she disappears into the crowd. and thats the last you see of her #I FUCKING LOVEEEEEEEEEEEE THAT ENDINGGGGGG IM ACTUALLY SO MAD THEY CHANGED IT #also sorry i will die mad about the climax THE CLIMAX OF NIMONA IS WHAT GETS ME EVERY FUCKING TIME.#THOSE PAGES WITH THE HUGE MONSTER AND LITTLE GIRL NIMONA JUST RIPPING INTO BALLISTER MAKE ME CRYYYYYYY DAWG THEYRE SO GOOD #idk. idk. i cant put it into words but just the overall vibes of the book are so much better imo. i think nd stevenson's style fits the #story reallyyy well and idk if the movie's style rlly does the same. also i wish the movie wasnt as sanded down like the original wasnt like #INAPPROPRIATE. it wasnt adults only. but it had a lot more like. blood and rude humor and stuff. and i miss that #i think the best way i can put it is. the original is the scratchy ever evolving style of nd stevenson it feels raw and unfiltered #and thats why i love it and why it moves me so much. while the movie is much more polished and round and soft and im gonna be honest:#I DONT LIKE IT! sorry. having my hater moment #<- lightheartedly again I DONT THINK THE MOVIE IS BAD i just think that by comparison the book is way better #still incredibly happy for and proud of the whole team that made the movie i think its awesome!!!!#just my personal opinion #serena.txt #nimona spoilers #<- idk if anyone actually needs this but jic

11 notes · View notes

dracowars · 1 year

Note

Hi hi, how are you? Could you write one where y/n is Draco's girlfriend, but she and Harry, who are best friends, end up arguing and he casts a dangerous spell on her? And when she arrives at the infirmary, still passed out, they discover she is pregnant?

best bad friend | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x reader

word count: 1,0k

summary: where y/n discovers something that will change draco’s and y/n’s life forever

a/n: i just wanted to clarify that the characters here are all in 7th year and thus of legal age

warnings: angst, violence, mentions of pregnancy

universe: harry potter

“Harry, if you would just listen to me for one second-”

Your vocal cords can’t manage more than that when in the next moment you are hit with Stupefy by your opponent, whom you also call your best friend. With force, you are thrown against the wall and fall into unconsciousness right away. Only when you are able to open your eyes again do you realize what actually happened, what Harry did.

What he did to you, his best friend.

The bright light that streams into the room through the large windows dazzles you a little, and the slight breeze that gently shakes the white curtains reaches your ears, shaking the dark chandelier on the ceiling. The beige brick walls of the hospital wing – you realized it is the hospital wing once you sat up in your hospital bed, startled – express a coldness and you quickly notice that you seem to be the only patient right now. The other beds around you are all empty.

Exhausted, you massage your temples with your fingertips, the impact seemingly hit you harder than you originally thought. As you try to stop the pounding in your head, your gaze falls on the two wooden chairs that are close to your bed, as if someone had been sitting there just mere seconds ago.

Surprised, you look around again and do not move a single muscle, but you have to accept the fact that you can’t even hear any sounds from outside. Sighing deeply, you lean back into the uncomfortable mattress and place your palm on your forehead, closing your eyes and reflecting on what happened that transported you into the hospital wing of the castle.

Maybe telling Harry about your relationship with Draco Malfoy had not been such a good idea after all. Especially not when he found it out by himself first and only then did you decide to actually tell him about your relationship status. On the other hand, he would still not know if he had not caught the both of you kissing in an empty hallway. Even though you have sworn to never hide anything from each other, you betrayed him.

Best friends should not betray each other, you think. And yet you did exactly that.

It was perfectly understandable that Harry was angry and upset about this. You would never have blamed him for that. But throwing you across the room with a dangerous curse, ending up in the freaking hospital wing, all alone? Rather despicable.

You are racking your brains about how to face Harry the next time you see him when you are released from this prison that is your hospital bed when suddenly the heavy door finally opens and none other than Harry enters. Well, at least his head is peeking around the corner, and when your eyes meet for a moment, it looks like he would like to vanish into thin air right this second.

Understandably so.

“Y/N, you are awake!”, he says happily, but can’t hide the insecurity within his voice. “I- I will be right back.”

And just like that you are as alone again as you were since waking up, causing you to roll your eyes while crossing your arms in front of your chest in despair. Harry will definitely not get away from you that easily.

Harry does not take long to return, though he does bring Madam Pomfrey with him on the way back, the nurse greeting you with a friendly smile and looking you up and down as if you have lost all your limbs. When she asks you how you are feeling, you only reply that your head is buzzing. Which is the truth, but you honestly do not feel like talking to her about your emotional state right now after you were brought here by your best friend.

Obviously, you are not feeling well.

“If you allow me, I would like to talk to you alone for a few moments, Ms. Y/L/N”, Madam Pomfrey remarks after realizing that you do not feel like talking to her, or anyone at this point, about what happened. However, no one could have prepared you for what she would share with you in private.

At first you want to laugh and deny what she claims happened. That is completely and absolutely ridiculous, you think to yourself. Then, as you look into her serious eyes, your mood immediately changed, and you suddenly feel nauseous. The ground is pulled away from under your feet all of a sudden and you start falling and keep falling and just can’t stop falling. The pounding in your head gets louder, more unbearable by the second, and is now accompanied by a loud beeping in your ears.

Without knowing it and without being able to stop it, tears flow down your cheeks as your world falls apart in the blink of an eye. First, Madam Pomfrey tries to calm you down, to encourage you, but you do not want to hear her words. They will not change anything anyway. When she notices this as well, she finally gives you your space and leaves.

The silence bother you even more, however, since you are suddenly all alone with your thoughts and feelings. The moment there is a knock on the door and Harry enters the hospital wing, you break down completely. Immediately, Harry is at your side, holding you tight in his arms, trying to soothe you with whispers and repeated apologies.

The fact that he attacked you with a spell out of anger is honestly the least of your problems right ow, which is why you let him hold you, why you allow him to support you as your best friend. Everything you can think about in this moment is filled with pure darkness, and if it were not for Draco, who storms inside after hearing about the incident, completely distressed, the darkness would have taken you in whole.

As soon as you find yourself in a loveable embrace, after Harry willingly released you, Draco encourages you and confesses his love for you over a thousand times, over and over again.

“We can get through this, darling. Together”, Draco whispers softly and places several kisses against your temple, kissing away some of your streaming tears. “If anyone can do it, it’s us.”

3K notes · View notes

deakyjoe · 1 year

Text

Somebody’s Watching Me Part 12

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader (“Sarge”, she/her, British, backstory)

Category: coworkers to friends to lovers with grumpy x sunshine dynamic/idiots in love

Summary: Can the two of you fix the damage that has been done? Or is it too late?

Warnings: angst, fluff, talks of injuries, British slang/terminology, strong language, mask is off

Word count: 1.4k (a baby in comparison to other parts)

A/N: Took a break from writing this series, mostly because I was burned out and had lots of uni work to be doing, but also because I needed time to think the ending through to give you all the best of what I’m capable of. It’s not as long as other parts but I feared that if I didn’t write it now then I would never write it. It’s pretty much where I always intended the story to go, just with a lot less conversation than originally planned. There will still be an epilogue after this but for now… enjoy!

When Ghost awoke, blinded by fluorescent hospital lights, and he saw Price standing at the foot of his bed with a deep-set frown... well, he knew things weren't good. It didn't help that you were nowhere to be seen. He didn't expect you to be fawning over him and nursing him back to health or anything. But no trace of you in the hospital room at all was not an encouraging sight.

"Am I dead?" Simon said gruffly, immediately coughing as his lungs clearly had something wrong with them.

Price scoffed. "You wish."

"Damn." He attempted to sit up straight, groaning when pain stabbed through his torso. "Ah, what the fuck?"

"I'd be careful if I were you. You were shot. Several times."

"Nothing new then." He sighed and looked at Price again, a grave look crossing his face. "Where is she?"

The captain hesitated for a moment before replying. "Home."

Shit, that definitely wasn't good.

"Why?" Simon didn't really want to know, too scared of the truth, but he needed to know.

"She was severely injured. Needed better medical attention than we could give her and then some time off once she recovers. She's home now but still in remission." Price checked his watch quickly, clearing his throat when he saw the time.

"Got somewhere to be?" Ghost asked, a sarcastic inflection in his voice.

The captain nodded. "Yes, actually. Already late from waiting for your lazy arse to wake up."

He only grunted in reply and waved his superior out of the room. "Go. I'll be fine.”

"You can go home to her once you've healed a bit more. For now, rest." And with that, Price walked out of the room leaving Simon in silence.

It was okay. He liked silence. Well, more he liked the lack of talking. People talked far too much about insignificant things. Strangely, he missed the sound of your voice chattering about insignificant things. He pushed that thought away and attempted to sleep for a while.

At home, in your flat, you were sick of friends coming over to visit you. Each one seemed to have some form of baked good or casserole and your refrigerator was full to the brim already. You hadn't even been home that long.

The sheer mass of people doting over you was becoming overwhelming in the most annoying way possible. You didn't need them constantly caring for you. Sure, the sentiment was nice enough but you were used to looking after yourself and healing independently. Usually you did it in the (un)comfort of a military hospital or medical tent. Unfortunately for you, you'd been sent home this time and had had no choice in informing your friends of your sudden return back. They just suddenly knew you were there and they were more than willing to help.

"I don't need you to give me a sponge bath." You'd told one with a roll of your eyes, still thinking about earlier in the day when you'd had to tell another that it was perfectly fine for you to drink apple juice and not stick to a strict diet of water.

Honestly, a part of you was enjoying being at home and having time to relax. Even though the cause of it was a little extreme, being able to sit on your sofa all day and watch reruns of old sitcoms as you made your way through every dish stacked in your fridge was nice. Almost... fun.

A part of you longed for something though. Simon. Obviously him. You craved to know how he was doing. When you'd first woken up, a nurse had simply told that he was alive and nothing else. Alive meant nothing. You didn't even know if his condition was stable.

You were worried, to say the least. And even Price wasn't willing to divulge any further information when you'd pressed him for it over the phone. He'd just mumbled something vague and moved on to asking you how you were doing.

It was frustrating. That was for sure.

The days passed and you grew restless, itching to get out of the house again. But you were sensible and followed the suggested instructions from the several doctors that had all agreed that you needed in order to heal properly. It was just a shame that it took so long to happen.

On day, what felt like, one billion of staying at home, there was a knock at the door. And after you'd taken a minute or two shuffling towards it, shouting out a stream of reassurances that you were on your way, you were utterly shocked to find your lieutenant on the doorstep.

Your mouth opened and closed a few times before a ridiculous sentiment left your mouth.

"Jesus, is this like those hallucinations you get just before dying?"

Simon said nothing, just the twitch of the corner of his mouth indicated that he had even heard you, and outstretched his fist to you.

In his hand, was an apple.

Specifically, one of the good apples from the farmers' market.

You looked up at him in confusion.

"Peace offering."

That explained it. So, you took it from him and opened the door wider to let him in. You weren't about to turn down a good apple or a peace offering.

Once you'd both settled yourselves into comfortable positions on the sofa, you wincing a few times and growing jealous that he seemed to have healed so quickly, you really took your time to look at him.

You tilted your head to the side and raked your eyes over him. "You're nervous."

"Am I?" His eyebrows raised a fraction.

"Yes." You nodded.

"How can you tell?"

"You scratch at the scars on your face when something is making you anxious."

"Hm." His eyes squinted at that observation, obviously not previously aware that he had that tell.

You moved on, not willing to dwell on that. "Why are you here?"

"Visiting an old friend."

You laughed sarcastically. "Oh, really?"

He shrugged, still as frustrating as ever. "You should've left me behind."

You'd be shocked if he hadn't been so self-sacrificial in previous times.

"Why would I do that?" You asked, lacing your voice with a mock innocent tone.

"Would've been the smart decision." He snapped.

So you shot right back. "Maybe I'm not smart."

"Yes, you are. You're just stubborn."

The words he'd once told you came tumbling out of your mouth. "A stubborn brat you mean?"

"That too."

You laughed again, shaking your head in disbelief. "You're right. I am stubborn. And I couldn't let you die. The idea of you... I can't stand it. So I let you live for selfish reasons. Alright?"

"You should have let me die."

"Shut up, Simon. That was never going to happen." You rolled your eyes at him and grit your teeth when a shooting pain stabbed through your side as you adjusted your position on the sofa.

Simon's hands raised for a second as if about to help you before he lowered them again.

Instead, he asked a question.

"Why not?"

You looked at him to see if he was being serious. He was.

"You know why."

"Maybe I don't."

You sighed. He was so difficult sometimes. Yet, you gave in.

"I..." You trailed off into thought.

But Simon wasn't going to let it go so easily. "You what?"

"I, y'know, I feel..." Your hands waved around as if hoping to grip a coherent answer from the air.

"Feel what?" The slight raise of an eyebrow hinted that he knew exactly what you wanted to say.

You sighed in defeat. "You know what I'm trying to get across here, Simon."

"I want to hear you say it."

"I feel for you. Have feelings. More than platonic. I... care... for you." You cringed at your own clumsiness, wondering when you'd lost your ability to fully communicate with words.

"I know."

You punched him lightly on the shoulder. "Cocky shit."

"I also care for you."

"I know." You scoffed teasingly.

He just repeated your words back to you. "Cocky shit."

The smiles that broke out across both of your faces were indescribable.

Yeah, the two of you were being slightly more awkward about this than usual but it was never going to be easy to just jump right back in to what you used to have. Smaller steps would have to be taken. And you were fine with that. As was he. You’d get there eventually, it was only a matter of time. After all, some things were just meant to happen.

A/N: Thank you all so much for sticking with me through my hiatus! I’m sorry this is a quick resolution but the epilogue is still on the way.

407 notes · View notes

birinboom · 2 months

Text

Come Sit With Me

Midoriya Izuku x quirkless nurse Reader

Injuries, hospitals, fluff, established relationship, brief kissing 🌿1325 words

Original prompt from Quotev: A scenario if Izuku ever had a quirkless S/O. I had the idea of the S/O being a nurse in training at UA.

A/N: This takes place during Izuku and Reader’s final year at UA. Reader is in the general studies course and works as a nurse-in-training after school under Recovery Girl’s supervision and with bouts of internships at the local hospital during school breaks.

Your shoes clicked against the floors as you walked down the hallway, the smell of hospital disinfectants stinging your nose. Stopping at the nurse’s station, you send the woman behind the counter a smile. It was instantly returned.

“Good to see you again!” she said. “Are you here for work or visiting?”

“Visiting,” you replied. “Midoriya, is he--”

The nurse pointed to a door further down the hall. “He’s been moved to room number 8. He’ll be happy to see you.”

You smiled again, thanking her. Then you continued down the hallway.

Stopping outside the room, you peeked through the open door, adjusting your school uniform. The beds were unoccupied, ready for new patients - except for one furthest from the door. The curtain was drawn around it for privacy, hiding your boyfriend from you. You moved into the room, your steps light in case he was asleep.

“Izuku?” you called softly.

No reply. Peeking around the curtain, you found him sound asleep. You took in his peaceful features - a stark contrast to his injured arm, the cast poking out underneath the covers. You had been told by him that it had happened during training when you had visited him the day before, that it was only a minor injury, the cast was mostly a safety precaution for his already weakened arm, and that he’d be out of the hospital soon.

Hero students are odd, you thought as you leaned in to brush a lock of green curls out of Izuku’s face. For most people an injury like this would be a pretty big deal, but for heroes it seemed like a regular Tuesday thing. At least that was how Izuku always behaved ever since you met him.

The two of you had started at UA at the same time. Being quirkless, you had always felt a little bit useless compared to your peers. So when you were given the opportunity to study nursing under Recovery Girl alongside your regular studies, you had jumped at the chance.

That was how you’d gotten to know Izuku. The two of you had begun chatting as a way to pass the time while he was stuck in the infirmary. Eventually, partway through your 2nd year, he had asked you out.

You looked at your boyfriend again. It wasn’t often that you got the opportunity to study his face; he usually got shy and hid his face if you looked at him for too long. He had grown taller since you met him. His face had gotten more angular, his jawline had grown sharp. But his freckles still gave him a boy-ish look which his wide smile only accentuated.

His freckles were currently lit up by a patch of golden sunlight, making them stand out even more against his skin. You watched as the light slowly crept further up his face. Then you stood, turning to adjust the curtains before the light hit Izuku’s eyes. As much as you’d like for him to wake up so you could talk with him… he needed to rest.

You busied yourself for a while adjusting his covers to make sure he wasn’t cold. Then you turned your attention to the vase of flowers on the windowsill, the flowers you brought along on your last visit. Nipping off a few of the smaller, withering flowers and drooping leaves, you carried the vase over to the sink to refresh the water.

Eventually, you were out of things to do. And Izuku was still asleep.

Sighing, you grabbed your school bag and turned towards the door. Maybe you could come back in a couple of hours, surely then he’d be--

“Wait!”

Turning back to the bed, you found Izuku awake. He pushed himself into a sitting position, beckoning you closer with one arm. His good arm. The two of you seemed to realize at the same time that he had used his injured arm to push himself up.

Izuku slumped forward, groaning in pain as he clutched his arm to his chest. Dropping your bag, you rushed back to his side.

“Here, let me get the remote so I can raise--”

“No, it’s fine,” Izuku grit out, “just help me get back against the wall.”

You knew better than to argue. Izuku was too stubborn for his own good at times, especially when injured. But him asking for your assistance was testament to how much he trusted you; he’d said so himself a few months back. You were one of the few people he allowed himself to be truly vulnerable around. Not even his mom got to see this vulnerable side. So you didn’t argue with him, you just moved his pillow up against the headboard, easing him backwards until he could rest again.

“How are you feeling?” you asked as you sat on the bed, reaching out to brush his hair out of his face again. “Do you need me to get a nurse?”

Izuku sent you a strained smile. “No, I’m fine.” Grabbing your hand, he settled it on top of his blanket, giving it a soft squeeze. “I’m better, at least, now that you’re here. It makes the pain a bit easier to bear.”

You sighed. “If only I had a healing quirk. Then I could’ve helped you with the pain.”

Izuku adjusted his grip on your hand, slipping his fingers between yours and squeezed your hand again.

“Even if you did have a healing quirk, I wouldn’t have let you use it on me.”

“Oh?” you replied, a smile pulling at the corner of your lips. “You think you could stop me?”

Izuku let out a brief laugh. “Well, maybe not but… I know your dream is to assist heroes, to heal them so they can get back on the battlefield. That means saving your powers for emergencies. If you used all your healing powers on someone who - like me - is out of danger, someone who doesn’t need urgent healing, what would you do if disaster struck in half an hour and you couldn’t heal anybody?”

Your smile fell. “I’d be just as useless as I am now.”

Izuku shook his head. “No, you’d be just as useful as you are now. You’d be out on the streets, bandaging injuries, creating splints out of debris. You would do everything in your power to help, just like you always do. Quirk or no quirk.”

He sat still for a moment, looking at your entwined hands, then he added, “Y’know… I think you’re doing better than I ever could have if I hadn’t received One For All. I would probably have been relying on gadgets to fight and gotten myself into trouble instead of actually helping people. Unless I switched to the support track. Might still have landed me in trouble if I know Hatsume-san right. She would still have made me test her… uh… babies, but I wouldn’t have had the same resistance without One For All.”

Looking back up at you, he beamed. “I’d have been in such deep trouble. Maybe even enough to be sent to the infirmary so I could’ve met you again! But hopefully I’d be less of a coward and ask you out earlier.”

Using your free hand, you gently cupped Izuku’s cheek, letting your thumb run over his cheekbone.

“You’re not a coward.”

Izuku leaned into your touch. “Not now. But I was back before All Might passed his quirk onto me. And I think I’d still be if I’d never gotten his quirk.” Sighing happily, he added, “But it’s silly to think about what if’s. I’m here now, with a quirk. And as much as I would’ve liked to ask you out earlier, I’m still so happy that I found the courage to do so, that you’re here with me now.”

You leaned closer, pressing your forehead against Izuku’s. “Rather late than never, huh?”

He grinned at you. “Rather late than never.”

Then he kissed you.

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs are always greatly appreciated! If you like, you can check out my other works here. Love, Birin 💖

#bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #midoriya #izuku #deku #x reader #x you #gn!reader #fluff #established relationship #kissing #injuries #hospitals #drabble #drabbles

56 notes · View notes

magica-ren · 7 months

Text

Old Habits Die Hard! [1]

Synopsis; In which Scaramouche takes what he’s gotten back for granted.

Warnings; None for now.

Word Count; 654

CRASH!

That’s the very last thing you probably remember hearing before you blacked out- Nothing else… Maybe you felt yourself stop in your tracks, maybe your felt a throbbing pain before blacking out- Perhaps you felt nothing at all. I wouldn’t know.

You wake up on a hospital bed, the bright artificial lights of the room seemingly blinding you- I sit by your side, gazing at your beautiful face. Oh how I miss looking at you… Can’t you see how beautiful you are to me? The way your gaze shifts at every moment, all those little expressions you make; It’s so adorable, I can’t help but wish to hug you oh so tightly. But I’d never admit it to you in your face- No, of course not!

You attempt to adjust your pretty eyes to the blaring iridescent lights, wincing in what seems to be pain, most likely from what had happened. Your blank gaze settles upon me, the guy sitting in a chair right beside you, and a nurse who bares witness to this life-changing moment.

I look at you with relief- Relieved that you’re awake, relieved that you’re alive. What a joyous moment this is; However, my expression remains calm as I request for the nurse to call over for a doctor- Talking about how you’re finally awake.

Unfortunately for me, that moment is short lived as I look down upon you, my shadow casted over your beautifully limp form.

“Who are you?”

Those words break me, how could you not remember who I am? You’re beloved Scaramouche? Is this a joke? Some kind of sick prank to pull? But that confused look on your face says otherwise… How could you not remember the man you’ve claimed to have an pure, unadulterated love for; The man you’ve made promises to share the rest of your life with-

How could you not remember me?

But alas, that’s okay! I’ll help you out! I am your only lover after all!

“I’m your lover, [Name].” I say, giving you a small smirk as I gently stroke your head. Tears prickle in my eyes, seemingly about to burst out. You look at me with furrowed eyebrows, analyzing and scanning me like some sort of machine.

“You’ve been gone for over a month, pet.” I begin to explain, “You’ve had quite the accident!” I chuckle sarcastically, which makes the whole thing seem as not as big of a deal it truly is.

You look at me in confusion, before asking, “Wha- Accident? I was in an accident-?” I watch you piece things together, and then look down at yourself, your right arm put into a cast. You attempt to move your body slightly, only to stop and wince in pain.

I nod in confirmation, “Mhm, a pretty shitty one if I do say so myself.” I cross my arms, staring at you with intent.

Just before you can ask about the accident a doctor comes in, checking in on you. I sigh in relief for a moment, which you didn’t seem to notice.

Then doctor then tells us that you have amnesia. You’re able to remember parts of your identity (for example, your name and age) and compute other basic functions, but you can’t seem to remember other people. Which is the case for me and Archon’s know how many others.

You were asked to try and dig deeper into your memory- Friends, family, animals, places- Anything really. But you come up empty handed explaining to the doctor that you can’t remember anything.

You’re out of it, really. It’s been a month or two since you’ve last stood up, so movement is hard. You tell me your body feels stiff, to which the doctor then replies that you’ll need to do a bit of physical therapy before being discharged from the hospital.

I suppose I’ll just have to visit you to and from for the time being then.

Notes: Reader becomes a bit more timid and shyer after amnesia, before that they were still a bit shy but less timid, more willing to stand up for themself. Reader is gender neutral.

Also, slightly based off Lolita (I know, crazy right?) by Vladimir Nabokov, and Restart by Gordon Kormen.

Originally pitched this idea to @r0ttenhearts (if you don’t mind me tagging you!)

THIS IS GOING TO BE A SERIES!!!

117 notes · View notes

imrowanartist · 4 months

Note

how was gaz's pregnancy? like with symptoms and dysphoria and the like!

Okay are you ready for a long answer? Cause @narcissosbythepool and I have talked about this a lot and I love making that everyone’s problem lmao

(Warning for some talk about abortion and spoilers for the MWIII campaign, no MCD tho)

Anyway, have the origin story of the Rosie AU

Gaz finds out he’s pregnant the night before they hear Makarov has escaped. He’s pretty shaken up by it, since he’s both on T and birth control, but sometimes the universe decides to just fuck you over apparently.

(Continues under the cut)

He keeps it to himself at first, briefly thinks about getting rid of it without telling Price, but decides against that. So they go up against Makarov, they almost lose Soap and as they sit waiting in a car in a hospital parking lot to hear whether Soap made it, Gaz tells Price.

After the initial shock they talk about it and ultimately decide that it’s not the right time and that the work they do is too important. But Gaz sees the disappointment in Price’s face and that sticks with him.

So they go up against Makarov again, this time catching and killing him and then land in a media circus afterwards including several public hearings. In between all that, Gaz finds himself at a clinic several times, but can’t bring himself to go in.

Eventually, he decides to travel to Scotland, where Soap is slowly recovering in the care of his family. He tells Soap and has a good talk with him. And when Gaz sees Soap interact with his little nephew, it finally hits him that he does want to have this baby.

So he brings Soap with him to his first ultrasound, then travels back to Credenhill to show Price the picture, telling him that he intends to keep the baby. Price is a little shocked at first, but also very happy.

Up until that point, everything has gone pretty smoothly for Gaz, besides the occasional nausea and exhaustion. His sister Dotty is a nurse and has connected him to some queer friendly doctors.

When he starts showing though, that’s when the dysphoria hits. He feels very disconnected from his own body and pretty uncomfortable in his own skin. On top of that, he’s pretty lonely as Price has to go back to work and can’t be there all the time.

Eventually though, he hits a point where he just decides to start talking to his bump. He calls her Bee at first and it helps remind him that he’s doing this all for her. His family is also very supportive and with their help and Price’s support he drags himself through it.

He’s still wary of going outside much, and definitely hides behind sweaters and other bulky clothes to avoid stares from strangers. But by himself at home, he slowly makes his peace with the whole situation.

Other than a minor scare when he’s at thirty weeks, the rest also goes pretty smoothly (to Dotty’s chagrin, who had a more challenging pregnancy) up until he hits 36 weeks.

On June 9th Gaz wakes up in a lot of pain and first texts Price, who’s still on an op, then calls Dotty. She comes over and drags him to the hospital as he’s considered a ‘risky’ pregnancy. After another ultrasound they find out that Rosie is breech and at risk with the umbilical cord, so they decide on an emergency c-section.

So Rosanna Garrick Price is born four weeks early and while Price tries to get there as fast as possible, he does miss the birth. But he gets there a few hours later and definitely cries when he holds little Rosie for the first time.

While they have to stay in the hospital for a few days, both Gaz and Rosie are in good health so after about a week they all get to go home and enjoy their little family <3

#ro talks #ask #Rosie AU #kyle gaz garrick #captain price #gazprice #pricegaz #trans pregnancy #c section #abortion #Rosie Garrick Price

58 notes · View notes

bluejaysandblackbats · 1 month

Text

Phantom Grin

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: Bruce Wayne visits his son's grave on the night of his resurrection. Will it change Jason's fate, or is it all simply inevitable?

Chapters: 1/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Alfred Pennyworth, Barbara Gordon, Tim Drake, Cassandra Cain

Relationship(s): Jason Todd/Original Character

Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Jason Todd Has Chronic Pain, Jason Todd is Disabled, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Resurrected Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne Get Along

Chapter One: Moonlight Promise

It'd been nearly ten months since the night Jason dug himself out of his own grave. Bruce sat by Jason's bedside, reading to him. Most days, Bruce read to him. When some of Jason's broken bones healed up, Bruce would hold his hand. He tried not to think too hard about the night it happened. The thought of Jason's broken body reaching out to him from the grave made his stomach turn. "I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way," Bruce read in a soft voice. Bruce listened carefully to the rhythm of the machines, making sure Jason's vitals were in order. Jason's heart rate often slowed depending on what Bruce read to him. He could tell that Jason loved poetry, or at least he thought Jason did.

Bruce squeezed Jason's hand gently. "Jason, I have to go earlier today," Bruce whispered, "But we'll finish The Highwayman when I come back. And I'll tell you about Clark's visit... Maybe when I come back, you can—." Bruce's phone rang, and he sighed. "Jason, I promise I'll make things up to you." He stood up and rested a gentle hand on Jason's forehead.

His phone continued to ring, and Jason opened his eyes. Bruce froze. "Jason?" he asked. Jason kept his eyes open for a few breaths before closing them once more. Bruce sat back down and brushed a knuckle against Jason's cheek. "Attaboy," Bruce whispered gently.

Bruce's phone rang again. "I'm not going anywhere... I'm just gonna answer this," Bruce whispered.

He answered the phone, and Dick immediately started apologizing. "I know you asked me not to call—."

"He opened his eyes... Just for a second," Bruce interrupted.

Dick didn't reply immediately. Instead, he made a soft noise. "Do you-. Did it seem like—?" Dick couldn't find the words.

Bruce sat with the phone between his ear and his shoulder. He squeezed Jason's hand. "He's never done it before. He opened his eyes and—. It was like he was trying to wake up," Bruce whispered, "Do you want to speak to him?"

Dick took a deep breath. "Put me on speaker," Dick whispered.

"Jason, I'm putting Dick on speaker," Bruce whispered. He let go of Jason's hand and set the phone on Jason's bedside.

"Good morning, Jason," Dick whispered, "I'm gonna come and see you pretty soon. I might get you something new to listen to. I know your birthday's coming up in August." Jason lay there, his eyes closed, and Bruce moved Jason's bangs out of his face. He didn't want to cut Jason's hair, not yet. In the months since Jason's resurrection, his height and hair were the only things that changed. It was the only way he could cope with the thought of Jason's condition.

Bruce stayed for an hour more and left in time for sundown. He'd be back later that night, but not as Bruce Wayne. Bruce always came at night in the middle of his patrol to make sure Jason didn't suddenly awaken in the night. He even hid motion sensors around Jason's hospital bed so that he'd know the comings and goings of the nurses. Leaving Jason was always hard. In the days following the incident where Jason first opened his eyes, Bruce started to see more and more movement in Jason. Sometimes Jason would open his eyes, other times, Jason would involuntarily grin when Bruce would touch his face. By the end of the year, Jason started responding to simple commands.

One afternoon, Bruce sat in the manor, eating dinner and talking to Dick. "He's gonna wake up any day now," Bruce whispered.

"And what are you gonna do about Tim?" Dick asked.

"Tim can have whatever he wants. He can be whatever he wants... Once Jason's able to come home," Bruce paused for a moment, "Jason'll need my full attention." He picked over his dinner.

Dick looked at him and furrowed his brows. "Gotham needs Batman—."

"And Jason needs me," Bruce raised his voice, "Had I been Bruce more often with Jason, maybe he wouldn't have died in the first place. I need to be there for him. I need to take care of—."

"And I'm not saying you're wrong, but from what I'm hearing in your voice, it sounds like you're calling it quits," Dick interrupted.

"Not permanently. I'm just prioritizing Jason for once," Bruce whispered, "Don't you think he deserves to be put first for once?"

Dick froze. He knew Bruce loved Jason, but he never thought that Bruce would ever set aside his priorities for anything or anyone. "I'm not judging you. I know you love Jason. I love Jason too... I just-. You don't have to do this alone. We're a family, and we're all willing to help in whatever way we can," Dick reassured him, "Maybe it's time you stop thinking you can do all this alone. Don't you think?"

"I can't let him down this time. I can't," Bruce whispered as he took a sip of water. "I should go check on him again soon."

"How many hours would you say you spend at the hospital?" Dick asked.

"Well, since he's gone from comatose to being in a vegetative state... Three hours in the daytime, on and off for two hours at night," Bruce replied. Dick tapped his fingertips on the table. "Yes, I'm thinking about going right now. You should think about coming with me."

Dick nodded. "I'll come along tomorrow before I leave," Dick replied, "No use in asking if you're staying for dessert, huh?" Bruce got up and took his plate to the kitchen.

Bruce's phone beeped, and he checked his phone. "I gotta go to the hospital—."

"What's wrong?" Dick asked.

"He's awake," Bruce replied as he rushed past Dick to the car. Dick followed closely behind.

"Is he okay?" Dick asked. Bruce handed Dick his phone, and when Dick saw what was going on, he pushed his hair back in distress. "Okay, I'm sorry for saying you were crazy for installing the motion sensor cameras."

#fic #batfam #phantom grin fic #Jason Todd #Bruce Wayne #Dick Grayson #Alfred Pennyworth #Barbara Gordon #Tim Drake #Cassandra Cain #Jason Todd/Original Character #Canon Divergent AU #Jason Todd Has Chronic Pain #Jason Todd is Disabled #Barbara Gordon is Oracle #Resurrected Jason Todd #Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating #Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne Get Along

31 notes · View notes

tkwrites · 8 months

Text

Love, even in the hard parts. - Quinn Hughes x ofc

photo from pinterest

Title: Love, even in the hard parts.

Author: Tory / @tkwrites

Relationship: Pre-established: Quinn Hughes x Original female character

Warnings: grief, mentions of a dead mother, lots of crying, hospitals

Summary: When his mom can't make it to take Quinn to surgery, Sarah steps in inspite of her hatred of hospitals.

Word count: 2500

Comments: This was very much written for myself. As someone who lost both of her parents young, it's often a struggle to find people to relate to about it. A struggle to find people who look for and see pain in others the way I have learned to see it after experiencing it so deeply. I wrote this on a day when I was really missing my mom, and wishing I had another mother figure in my life to give me a warm embrace, or a romantic partner to comfort me through the pain. It's a bit unrealistic to expect someone to fulfill needs without being asked, but that's why it's a fantasy.

These are the same characters as before, but there's not really a timeline. These are just snapshots from their life together.

Love, Even in the Hard Parts

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

Sarah hated hospitals. Ever since waiting in one, just to learn her mom couldn’t be saved, she felt anxious and on the verge of tears anytime she was in one.

Ellen was supposed to be here to take Quinn to and from surgery, but her flight had been delayed, so Sarah had stepped in. First, only to drop him off, but upon another text from Ellen, to stay and wait for him to wake.

Quinn had assured her he could ask a teammate to pick him up, but she didn’t want him to be with someone he didn’t know well. Petey had already gone back to Sweden.

She’d had her tonsils removed. It had been more than 10 years, but she still remembered waking up and feeling like she’d swallowed a sandbox. She wouldn’t want to be with anyone but someone she trusted completely.

She had headphones on, and was listening to a romance novel, trying to distract herself from the smell. She’d even rubbed peppermint oil under her nose to try to mask it. Both the oil and the novel were helping, but her heart still thundered in her chest and tears stung behind her eyes, threatening to spill out.

She’d missed the window to walk outside. Now she was too close to him waking up to leave.

When Rose, the motherly looking nurse who had taken Quinn back for surgery, tapped her gently on the shoulder, Sarah jolted. Fear rocketed to her fingertips, making them tingle with misplaced energy.

She smiled kindly, “I'm sorry, hon. He’s just waking up now if you want to come back.”

Slipping her headphones around her neck, Sarah coached herself into standing and followed the nurse into the hallway.

They were in the VIP section, and it looked almost homey. It was still a hospital, and still smelled too sterile and disinfected, but at least it wasn’t 70 different colors of beige and green.

“Here you go,” Rose held the door open for Sarah to step through. She’d been so caught in her own thoughts she didn’t think she could find her way back to the waiting room if she tried.

“Quinn,” Rose said gently, “your wife is here.”

“Girlfriend,” Sarah corrected automatically as she sat in the chair next to the bed.

He gave her a lopsided, drunk smile. "You can be my wife for the day," he said, voice gravelly.

She could see in his face that he was going to be sick before he began to cough. She grabbed the basin off the table next to the bed and held it under his chin, helping him tip his head forward so he wouldn’t get any vomit on himself.

He winced as he settled back.

“I was just about to say,” Rose said, taking the basin from Rachel’s hands, “you’ll want to avoid talking for the next day or two. It can aggravate the gag reflex.”

She took the basin into the bathroom and came out with a fresh one. “It’s very normal to vomit quite a bit after a tonsillectomy,” she assured.

Sarah nodded, looking around the room. It was bigger than any she’d been in in the past. And far more private. Quinn had a beautiful view of the city through a large picture window opposite his bed. Everything was painted in warm, cozy colors. But it was still a hospital, and he still had an IV in his arm that she willed her eyes to skip over every time she looked at him.

His hand came to rest on hers, solid and comforting. When their eyes met, Quinn - even in his drugged up, addled state - could see the sadness and fear in her face. It bothered him that he couldn’t comfort her the way he wanted to.

“Are you okay?” he whispered. No gag came. He would just have to talk quietly.

She nodded, even though she clearly wasn’t. “How are you feeling?”

He shrugged one shoulder up. “Thirsty.”

“Can he have some water?” Sarah asked, thankful to have something to do.

“Gulping can be quite hard, and he won’t be able to use a straw for a week or so, but I’ll get you some ice chips. Do you want them flavored, sweetheart?”

He shook his head.

Rose came back a few minutes later with a cup of soft, pellet ice.

Sarah helped him get it into his mouth, and he sighed when the cold liquid began trailing down his sore throat.

Thirty minutes later, Ellen came blustering into the hospital room, a suitcase wheeling behind her.

“I’m so sorry,” she told Sarah, gathering her into a hug.

Sarah shook her head, and pulled away before she could get too comfortable. An embrace like that would certainly bring her tears spilling over the surface.

“How is he?”

She pointed to the hospital bed, where Quinn was awake, but listlessly so. Sliding between resting and waking to let more ice melt in his mouth.

She didn’t trust herself to speak. There was a certain, intense jealousy that came over her any time she saw someone else’s mother come to support them. Even if she loved them, it was still hard to see and know she would never again get that same support from her own mom.

“Quinn? Quinn, I’m here.”

Hearing his mom's voice brought him out of another stupor.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, pushing his hair off of his forehead.

“Fine,” he whispered.

His eyes sought Sarah in the room. She had her back to them, her arms wrapped so tightly around herself, he could see a peek of her Canucks blue nail polish under each arm.

Ellen settled in the chair next to the bed. Through the rustle of her clothing, Quinn heard Sarah sniff.

“Mom?”

“What, honey?” she asked, smoothing his hair again, “what can I get you?”

“I’m fine, Mom,” he said, testing the limits of his voice. He had to pause and swallow. It hurt, like trying to swallow glass or a golf ball.

She offered him more ice.

He took the cup, but didn’t tip it to his mouth, “Mom, I can't right now, but Sarah really needs someone."

Ellen’s eyes shifted to look at her son's girlfriend, standing proud and contained, looking out the window.

As they watched, her hand swiped over her cheek. Even from there, they could see the sheen of liquid smeared over her fingers.

Ellen squeezed Quinn’s hand and walked over to her. It was just like Quinn, to see someone else's need and find a way to fill it even if he couldn't do it himself.

When the younger woman turned to look at her, fat tears were pooled in her eyes, and rolling down her cheeks.

“Oh, Sarah,” Ellen whispered, and gathered her into an embrace.

Sarah began to really cry then. She wasn’t loud, but her breath shook, and her gasps and cries were tiered, as if she were going up and down stairs.

Ellen held her and smoothed her hair, letting her cry into her shoulder in such a maternal way, Sarah felt both relieved and sad. Her own mother was never as thin as Ellen, but Ellen’s embrace was strong, keeping her grounded the way Sarah needed.

“I just miss her so much,” she whispered.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.”

A while later, she added, “I wish I could have met her.”

That brought on a fresh wave of tears that had Sarah crying louder.

Ellen hugged her tighter, palming the back of her head to keep her head on her shoulder. It had been so long since one of her boys had needed this kind of motherly comfort. This was dually the easiest and hardest part of motherhood. The ‘I’ll hold you while you cry and help you put the pieces back together’ kind of motherhood. At the same time, knowing you couldn’t fix all your child's hurts, or take away their pain.

It brought tears to Ellen's eyes to think that she could stand in for Sarah’s mom in this small way.

A few minutes later, Sarah pulled away, feeling more than a little embarrassed. She wiped at her eyes, and forced a bit of a laugh, “I’m sorry, thank you.”

Ellen took her by the shoulders, “Sarah, you don’t need to thank me, and you certainly don’t need to apologize.”

“I just,” Sarah met her gaze, “thank you. Being here has been really hard.”

“I know. Quinn told me,” she assured, her palm still traveling up and down her back in a soothing pattern. “Thank you for taking such good care of my baby while I was getting here.”

That night, after stopping at the store for ice cream and Popsicles, and watching the game, Quinn settled into bed while Sarah puttered around fussing over him.

“You're sure you don't need anything else?” she asked, finally stopping to look into his face.

He shook his head. “I need you to come to bed.” He patted the space next to him.

She nodded, toed out of her slippers and finally - finally settled next to him, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Thank you for taking me and taking care of me today,” he said, his voice strained with emotion.

She propped herself up with one arm to look at him.

“I love you, Quinn,” she said as if it explained everything. “Of course I'll take care of you.”

“I know, but I know it was hard for you today.”

Her smile was a bit defeated. She wanted to be done with the hospital, even though she knew it was better to talk and process the emotions.

“Thank you for telling your mom what I needed,” she said, her own voice pulled tight with the memory.

“I wish I could have been holding you,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to her hairline.

A tear slipped down her cheek. Never in any kind of relationship - friendship, sibling or romantic - had someone seen a need and filled it so quickly, without her having to ask. To find support given before seeking – to find that Quinn was paying attention to her too. It made her chest tight with gratitude, and her voice wobble with emotion. This was the first relationship that didn’t feel out of balance as they so often had in the past. They cared for each other in visible, tangible ways.

“You gave me the next best thing,” she whispered. “Thanks for sharing her with me.”

“That’s not sharing, Sar, my mom loves you.”

She gave a defeated little sigh, “I know, it’s just…" her voice trailed off in that thinking way of hers, "thanks for seeing me, I guess.”

He laughed a little at the absurdity of her statement and immediately had to throw up.

By some miracle of physics, he managed to get to the small trash can his mom had set next to the bed.

Without complaint, Sarah got out of bed, took the bag out of the trash can and to the garage bin. When she came back, she had a bottle of water and a large cup.

“Swish and spit,” she said, handing them over. He spit in the cup while she replaced the liner. She made him do it twice more before she dumped the contents into the ensuite sink and came back to settle next to him again.

“Why wouldn’t I see you?” he whispered a while later, after the lights had been turned off, and what she said was still lingering in his mind.

A sigh moved her shoulder into his chest with a little more force than before. “I just mean… I’m usually the one doing the caring, not the other way around, and it's nice - to be cared for.”

He adjusted a little to get more of his arm around her. “I love taking care of you,” he whispered into her hair.

Turning over, she tucked her face into the crook of his neck. He felt her tears on his skin before he heard them.

He held her and let her cry. From everything he knew about her past relationships, she was often taken advantage of. Doing all the emotional work without getting much in return. She would be the first to tell him that her unwillingness to share her emotions was the main culprit for that. Even after therapy taught her to express herself and ask for what she needed, she always seemed surprised to find him still there when she had a hard day, as if he might run away from her pain. But nothing worth anything didn’t take a little work. It was all about intention. And he loved her and wanted to be with her, so he focused his intention on that, no matter the hurdle in their path.

For her part, Sarah was glad Quinn came from a family that understood grief. A month before she met him, she had decided not to date anyone who hadn’t lost a parent or sibling. It was just too hard to explain the waves of grief to someone who hadn’t gone through it. Quinn had surprised her, sharing some of his father’s stories about losing his mother when she brought it up for the first time. He didn’t have that first-hand experience, but he was sympathetic, and even once told her he asked his parents for advice when they first started dating. He was all in, and she realized that meant more than anything else.

When she lifted her head eventually, Quinn brushed her tears away with his thumb. Leaving his hand there, cupping the soft curve of her jaw, he smiled and kissed her gently. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too.”

She settled back in again, tucked into Quinn’s side as they drifted to sleep.

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

#quinn hughes #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #quinn hughes x oc #greif #tw greif #quinn hughes fan fic #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes fic #Quinn & Sarah Snapshots #nhl fic #nhl oneshot #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes oneshot #hockey fic #hockey romance

128 notes · View notes

lili-lilith9 · 28 days

Text

Imagine Simon and special force 141 has some mission about terrorism that happened and they have to catch them but they don't have enough info. Yet you have enough info for that and ghost and others go after you.

Tags: slow burn, smut, Simon Riley x reader, cod, and something that isn't in main line

This has nothing to do with original line so. Please consider about this

Part 1

3 hours after terrorism happened

Special force 141 has received their mission about terrorist happened in Hong Kong recently and one who did it was British person so they had to handle this matter but lack of information is holding them back. Evidence none. How many seen their face and what they talked none except you.

They had to do background checks about you and made summary for others

[your background information]

24 years old.

Female

Newly graduated college

Owns small beauty business

Your weight and height

Recent location London

6 hours after received mission info

They headed to hotel you were staying but you was out of hotel. So they had to wait outside of hotel you are staying.

When they get to see your sight, they rush over and pull you into truck.

You was quite calm for this situation you studied your situation. As soon as they stopped at red light you kick and get off the car and start running back to your hotel.

Simon get off the car and chases you which makes you panic and run.

He was catching up so you had to go to the nearest crowded place. You blend in public which makes harder for ghost to catch you.

When you came back to hotel and pack everything you have. As soon as you done packing you grabbed your luggage and opened the door. Saw 5 big men towering over you.

They dragged you to thr base and locked you in dark room with small light.

***

Ghost and soap came in and soap started to question you.

Soap:- so y/n we need information about terrorism happened in Hong Kong

:- you guys chased and kidnapped for this information? You scoffed

Soap:- well kinda need to

:-why don't you guys just knocked fucking door and ask that like normal person. I could have tell it. Almost yelling

Soap:- well we're not normal person.

:- what are you cat.

Ghost:- stop playing around and answer the question

:- oh scary skull faced guy sorry for didn't answered your question but you guys are need to fix that attitude

:-and oh yeah. Hong Kong terrorist. Yeah I seen his face. I don't recall his face good. But I can tell it's him by picture.

Ghost:- height?

:- around 5 foot 8 something and little bulky body, has blondish brown hair. I don't know it was dark so

Ghost:- good. Let's go soap

After about 5 minutes later someone entered and stabbed you in the abdomen before you could scream for help. It was men you saw at terrorist. Then he left.

***

You wake up at hospital bed of base. Which you saw ghost beside you. You groan.

Which ghost left and nurse and doctor came in. Analyzing your wound and heart beat.

Soap and price came in and asks who did it

:- man of one that I saw

To be continue

English is not my mother tongue so if there is mistake just ignore it

#simon riley fluff #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you

42 notes · View notes

keiththecat · 8 months

Text

Admissible (Part Eleven)

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Female Reader (You)

Summary: You've always hunted alone. That is, until Bobby sends you on a hunt near the Winchester brothers. How will things change when they come to help?

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: 18+, series typical violence and monsters, weapons, cursing, groping/ almost sexual assault, self-doubt/ self-esteem issues, character death, injuries, hurt/comfort

Author's Note: Warning: hospital setting (and possibly inaccurate medical talk?) Sorry for the extra long delay on this chapter. Work and some personal things have been kicking my behind. The coming weeks are looking to be just as busy for me, so I will update whenever I possibly can but I can't promise weekly updates. I hope you're still with me (and hopefully not too angry). Thank you all for continuing to read! I hope you continue to enjoy it!! Y/N is your name, and feedback is always welcome. Thanks for reading and thanks for all the love so far! <3

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, or any of the related characters. The Supernatural series is created by Eric Kripke and owned by The CW Network. This work of fan fiction is for entertainment only. I am not making a profit of any kind from this story. All rights of the original Supernatural series belong to The CW Network.

Part One

AO3 link here

Your consciousness comes crawling back to you, and the first things you register are the incessant beeping of a heart monitor and the sterile smell that accompanies hospitals. You can feel an uncomfortable bed underneath you and scratchy blankets on top of you, bandages on your face and thigh, a heavy-duty sling holding your right arm securely against your chest. You can feel the chill of IV fluids pumping into your left arm at the elbow, and you assume there are pain medications mixed into the fluids due to the mostly dull ache throughout your body. You pry your eyes open as much as you can around the swelling from the demon’s beatings. You’re greeted by the heartwarming sight of an adorable giant awkwardly folded in a chair by the left side of your bed, his hand holding onto yours like his life depends on it. His head is resting on the bed facing away from you, his hair fanned out across the top of your arm, and you can hear soft snores coming from him.

Smiling at the cute sight in front of you, you try to gently wake him up by whispering his name. Sam doesn’t stir, so you try gently squeezing his hand. This startles him awake, and he shoots up, eyes frantically scanning the room for threats as his free hand reaches for his gun. Once his eyes bounce back to yours, you can see the instant he realizes that you’re awake and you’re what woke him. His free hand leaves his gun and joins his other hand in holding yours. “Hey, you’re awake. Are you in pain? How are you feeling?” His hair is tousled from his odd sleeping position, and he’s looking at you with those sweet puppy dog eyes.

“I-,” you try to speak but your dry throat and mouth stop you, and you try clearing your throat.

“Oh! Here, sorry,” Sam says as he reaches for a cup of water and brings the straw to your lips for you to drink.

After drinking some, your voice works but comes out scratchy, “I’m okay. I’ve had worse. What happened?”

“Well how much do you remember?” He asks, taking your hand in his again.

You explain as much as you can, from breaking into the cabin until leaning yourself up against the wall while talking to him. He takes over from there, telling you that he made the hour-long drive in about half the time and found you passed out against the wall inside the barn. He brought you to the hospital, worried about the blood loss and the location of the knife in your leg.

It’s at this time that a doctor comes into the room, and you assume a nurse passing by must have alerted her to your alert status. The doctor, a tall middle aged brunette with a kind face, introduces herself as Doctor Roth and describes the extent of your injuries: dislocated shoulder (“you’re lucky the dislocation was reduced when it was or your shoulder may have needed surgical intervention”), several broken ribs (“breathing will hurt for a while, but you’re very lucky your lungs weren’t punctured”), stab wound to your thigh (“incredibly lucky you didn’t bleed out with the laceration to your femoral artery we had to repair”), and various cuts and bruises.

“All things considered,” Doctor Roth says, “your injuries will absolutely take time to heal, but I’d say you have an angel watching over you out there. And your sweet husband here, too. He hasn’t left your side since he carried you through the hospital doors.”

You feel yourself blush and Sam gives your hand a little squeeze, reminding you that he has been holding your hand this whole time.

“I’d like to keep you one more night for observation, but we can talk about your discharge tomorrow,” Doctor Roth continues. “I’ll let you get some rest and we’ll talk in the morning.” She turns and exits the room, leaving you alone with Sam again.

“Sorry,” Sam apologizes, “saying we were married was the easiest way I could stay here with you.” He starts to pull his hand away but you hold on tighter.

“It’s okay, Sam. I don’t mind. I feel safer knowing you were here.”

He gives you a shy smile, ducking his head and his hair falls into his eyes.

“Now that I’m awake though, you really should take a break and take care of yourself. When was the last time you slept lying down? Or ate something?”

He lifts his head, shaking his hair back out of his face. “Oh, I’m okay-“

“Sam,” you scold. “Go to the cabin where my stuff is and rest.” You give him the coordinates for the cabin you broke into before being taken by the demons.

He takes a deep breath, debating. “Alright, alright,” he concedes, standing and running his hands through his hair. “I’ll go get some food and sleep. But only a couple hours and I’ll be back. Besides, Dean should be here any minute now. He can keep you company.”

“Dean is coming? And he’s almost here already? How long was I out?”

“Almost two days.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. Two days? Damn, I guess they did more of a number on me than I thought. “Wait, you’ve been just sitting here for two days? You’re insane,” you half-jokingly accuse.

“I had to make sure you were okay,” he counters. “The nurses brought me some food and offered me a cot. And I haven’t been bored. I’ve been working on research and remotely helping other hunters.”

Now you notice his laptop set up at the small table and chair in the corner of the room. You can see food wrappers in the trash can next to it. He makes his way over, starting to pack up his things as his phone starts to ring. He answers, giving your room number and talking about your doctor’s newest update, and you assume it must be Dean on the other side of the call. A few quick moments later, Dean walks through the door as both brothers hang up their phones.

“Hey, kiddo,” Dean says to you, making himself comfortable in the chair beside you and using the bed’s remote to turn on the TV in the corner of the room. “Alright, Sammy, go do what you have to do. I’ll be here ‘til you get back.”

Sam swings his bag over his shoulder, coming over to kiss you on the forehead before starting toward the door.

“What, no kiss for your big brother?” Dean goads, smirk on his face.

“Jerk,” Sam says, continuing out the door and leaving.

“Bitch,” Dean responds.

Despite being unconscious for the last couple days, you fall back asleep shortly after Sam leaves. You wake slightly when Sam returns a few hours later, but you fall back asleep quickly. The next time you are fully awake, the sun is rising and you realize you can hear Dean and Sam having a hushed conversation in the corner of the room.

“So you don’t know where he is?” Sam asks quietly.

“No, I haven’t heard from him and he hasn’t been answering prayers either,” Dean responds. “I’m starting to get a little worried.”

You use the bed’s controls to raise the head of it and sit up, “are you guys talking about Castiel?”

The brothers realize you’re awake, Sam coming to the seat next to you again and Dean taking a step closer. “Yeah, we were hoping he would meet up with us when we leave here and heal you,” Sam says.

“Sounds to me like we should be more worried about where he is and what’s going on with him,” you say. Sam opens his mouth to argue but you cut him off, “I’ll heal, Sam. I’ll be okay. A little pain is good for the soul. Let’s get the doctor and get me out of here, and we can look for Cass.”

Dean agrees, heading out into the hall to find someone who can discharge you. You grab Sam’s hand with your good one, making him look at you, “I know you’re worried about me and you mean well, but I promise I’ll let you know when I need help. It sounds like Cass needs help more than I do right now.” Sam reluctantly agrees.

Doctor Roth comes in, going over all of your restrictions and instructions for healing while a nurse removes your IV catheter. You sign all of the necessary paperwork for discharge, and Doctor Roth wishes you well. Dean comes back, holding your duffel bag that Sam must have grabbed from the cabin last night. You rifle through it as best you can, pulling out your comfiest clothes to put on. The nurse helps you into the bathroom and helps you change. You do your best to ignore the purple bruises littering your body.

With you dressed and ready to leave, Sam and Dean help you out to the cars, explaining that they got another trusted hunter to drive your car back to the bunker. Saying a quick goodbye to Dean, he gets into the Impala and Sam helps you into the passenger seat of his car. With everyone ready, you all start the long drive back to Lebanon.

Part Twelve

25 notes · View notes

goldenhawk-k · 9 months

Note

👁👁

your tim survives the unknowing headcanons, hand em over 🖐🖐

omg i'm so glad you asked teehee

trigger warning for tim typical suicidal ideation

ok, before we start, to be clear, this is not a list of hcs where tim lived bc he became an avatar. if you want those ur gonna have to WAIT for my end!tim au. this is an au where he survived the unknowing as just a normal guy by pure miracle, ok? ok. awesome.

Tim was in a coma for about a week, and then was quickly put into a medically induced coma for another six because his body was so deeply fucked up. In total, he was out for about seven weeks.

Jon threw himself over Tim during The Unknowing in hopes of saving him. Ultimately, it saved his life (just barely, though. like, if the first responders arrived five minutes later, they wouldn't have been able to save him).

However, due to their positioning, Jon was only able to cover Tim's torso and head.

His legs got pretty much destroyed by the debris from the explosion.

After he wakes up, he's an ambulatory wheelchair user. When not in his wheelchair, he uses elbow crutches.

Anyways. back to when he first wakes up

When he first wakes up from his coma, he's confused. Obviously he's confused, he was asleep for seven weeks.

Once he realizes what happens, he's so fucking angry because he thought he finally got out of everything, he thought he was dead, his brother had been avenged, so what the fuck else is he here for?

He's incredibly suicidal when he first wakes up. It only worsens when the nurse tells him his mom visited him exactly once when he was asleep, within the first two weeks, and hasn't been back since.

(He tries to call her. That was the most contact they've had since Danny went missing, and he missed it.)

(She doesn't answer.)

(...the worst part is that Tim wasn't even expecting her to.)

He just kinda. Assumes that Jon's dead, but when Basira visits in the week he's being kept in the hospital, she tells him that Jon's 'technically' alive

"What do you mean technically" "...the nurses told me not to stress you out."

Tim DEMANDS to go visit Jon.

The nurses originally said no, but Tim started ripping out his IV, and they conceded.

He gets wheeled into the room they're keeping Jon in and every bit of anger towards him just vanishes.

He looks so small and fragile, and it reminds Tim of the friend he had in research.

He misses Jon so much.

Now this is the point where it could split into my "Tim is in Martin's place in s4 - Tim becomes a lonely avatar" au but this is not the post for that but know that is something that is in my head.

Tim takes to sitting by Jon's bedside at least three times a week, but it's usually more as he can't even get into the archive for the first month he's awake.

The reason he can't is that he's still going through physical therapy to work his elbow crutches. And you KNOW the magnus institute isn't fully accessible so he literally can't get down those stairs to the archive.

So. he sits with Jon most the time.

He has a civil relationship with melanie. she's going through her own slaughter shit. Basira and him get along well enough. But the main person he talks to is Jon's nearly lifeless body.

Jon hears ever bitch and complaint of Tim's life from the time he woke up.

If Tim cried in Jon's room, he'll never tell. Not like Jon would know either.

Things all go to hell after the flesh attacks the archive, which was one of the few days he's actually in the archives with his elbow crutches. he's nearly killed when basira leaves him

(i like basira btw but you know she'd leave people behind if it were to save either her or daisy. thats like. one of her character traits)

He sits by Jon more

And Tim never expects Jon to wake up, so when he comes in one day and Jon's sitting up, breathing, he turns around and leaves the hospital.

He comes back two days later and they talk.

And that's all my thoughts really. Bonus hc is that Tim has a sportier design of wheelchair with no handlebars or armrests and it's purple bc he needed something to lift him up.

Double bonus hc: tim has a few stickers on his crutches. he never buys them, but if he finds or just gets a sticker, that's where he puts them bc it makes him a little happier

#tw sui ideation #tim stoker #tma #the magnus archives #tim lives au #long post

20 notes · View notes

blackjackkent · 5 months

Text

OK, Hector needs a mental break and I don't think we can pursue that thing for Balthazar without passing the point of no return so let's head back out into the Shadowlands and progress some other quests for a bit. We'll finish scouring the Shar temple and move on into the Gauntlet when everything else is cleaned up.

(Hector, in my head, deeply objects to characterizing the REST of the Shadowlands as a mental break either, of course.)

Moving southward from the temple entrance, our first available plot point is the House of Healing, where we're hoping to find something we can use to wake Art Cullagh up and learn something about Thaniel.

Like everything else around here, the place is in a right state. Lots of big corrupted branches growing through windows and into the roof, and everything dark as hell.

Luckily we have our pixie buff so we don't have to worry about the dark so much but it's still pretty unsettling.

There's also someone talking inside, and their dialogue is not doing anything to ease the unsettling vibe.

O.O; I don't like the sound of whatever is going on here.

We enter through an upper floor window but there's not much up there other than a few locked chests, so down we go to see who's making with all the creepy.

Pivoting the camera into the side room before going in, we see this little tableau:

Almost more concerning is the name of the person doing all the talking, who from this distance looks either skeletal or like he has some kind of weird extendo-arms or both:

Thorm, you say? As in Ketheric Thorm?

[sigh] Oh boy, here we go.

Quick look around the rest of the building before going in to confront him. There are a number of documents around which, I assume, go back to the original onset of the darkness corruption (which if I recall correctly was something like a hundred years ago?). It seems that Malus Thorm was in charge of the house of healing around then as well.

And he was (and probably still is) a prick.

Based on other stuff we've learned so far I'm going to guess this was a Selunite hospital before Thorm got hold of it. >.<

And.... oh shit. Wandering into a side room we find two more of our missing tiefling friends. :(

We know Kormira, and her husband Locke who is equally dead in the next bed over. These are the parents of Arabella - the girl we rescued from Kagha's snake back in the Grove. :(

The lady standing over them is named "Sister Lidwin." She looks super undead and is about to get a major talking to, possibly in the form of a quarterstaff to the face.

She's mumbling to herself as they approach. "Don't call the doctor yet! I've got potions...sutures...I know I can do this..."

She starts at the sound of Hector's footsteps, turns abruptly and stares at him - "stares", as her eyes are covered by a thick sheathe of leather and cloth. Her skin is pale, marked with sigils, and mottled with blue necrosis. "Oh," she says vaguely. "You're a patient. This is the children's ward. Triage is back that way."

"That's Arabella's father," Shadowheart says grimly, confirming what we already realized. "Or...*was* Arabella's father..."

"Was" indeed... Hector swallows; as they've drawn closer, the stench of rotting flesh becomes apparent. His stomach churns sharply and he has to take a moment to steady himself. "Why are you treating a dead body?" he asks shakily.

The nurse tips her head as if perplexed. "Not dead," she says, her tone drifty, distracted. "Merely medicated. To ease the pain."

(A/N: Hector has several different deception options here - one monk-specific and one cleric-specific - to agree with Lidwin that the tieflings are not dead. I'm not at all clear on why he would want to do this. Who is he deceiving? Lidwin herself? Or his companions? Anyway, even if we knew why, Hector hates lying, so we won't take those.)

"The patient's definitely dead," he says bluntly. "Been dead for a while, judging by the smell."

But Lidwin just shakes her head firmly. "The patient is asleep. The sedative is quite strong, you see."

Hector blinks at her several times slowly, and then looks at the dead tieflings on the bed. There is no point in arguing this; he's not sure the "nurse" is even conscious of the situation. But damn it to all the hells...these people deserve better than this horrible, rotting grave.

He mutters a prayer to Selune, that she might shepherd their souls to somewhere better. It is all he can do for them for now.

#bjk plays baldur's gate 3 #hector carlisle #well this is upsetting #need to leave it here for right now but more tomorrow

10 notes · View notes

rose-n-gunses · 9 months

Note

How about a Renaissance or Western hellcheer love story? Ohh a World War 2 hellcheer!

Okay anon I love u for this it was so fun to think about while I was bored out of my mind checking dates at work <3 these turned into less headcanons and more full on fic ideas 😭 (and I wanted to talk about all three so it's kind of long and I put it under a cut)

I know typically Renaissance is thought of as royalty and all that (like renaissance faires) so obviously I could see the typical 'Chrissy's a princess and Eddie's a knight appointed to protect her' and all that but!! What about the Italian Renaissance!!!

What if the Cunninghams are some wealthy influential (Medici-esque) family and Eddie's an artist/musician and despite his distaste for the family he accepts a commission from them because he needs the money so he finds himself painting their family portrait (since they canonically do have that portrait). He's dreading it until he sees Chrissy Cunningham for the first time and is just head over heels. He's fascinated by her because she's the perfect subject and he's kind of obsessed with trying to capture the way the sunlight reflects off of her hair. He wants to paint her smile and the way her nose scrunches when he makes a bad joke and he wants to write melodies with her laugh and sonnets about her voice. Maybe he gets tasked with painting individual portraits of the family. (Or maybe Chrissy just wants one of herself as an excuse to spend more time with him 👀) They talk and he finds out she's also very interested in art and music and not so interested in doing what her mom wants her to do (ie marry Jason). Maybe he teaches her how to paint and lets her practice and use him as a subject (and she's just as equally obsessed with capturing the warmth of his eyes and the way his personality takes up so much space and makes him seem almost larger than life). They're best friends and confidants and despite her family's disapproval they fall in love and have their happy ending where Chrissy leaves her parents and her wealth and her family name behind to be with him because he just Gets Her and Loves Chrissy For Chrissy, not because of her status and family.

And maybe that portrait Eddie painted of her, simply titled Christine (A Beauty), becomes his best known work (like. Mona Lisa levels of fame).

(Also, I could see this story being told as, like, the historical origin story of Christine (A Beauty), the tale of painter Edward Munson and how he fell in love with Christine Cunningham, or the tale of Christine Cunningham and how she left everything she'd ever known behind in pursuit of happiness.)

Changing gears, a Western au I think could involve Chrissy, in the wake of her father's passing, having to step up and taking on a larger responsibility in the family hotel. She hates it. Enter Eddie, a deputy that's been brought to Hawkins on the trail of infamous bank robber and murderer Henry Creel. Maybe Creel is staying in the Cunninghams' hotel, maybe he's targeting Chrissy and/or Max. Maybe Chrissy ends up acting as bait to help Eddie catch Creel. Maybe she goes with Eddie when he eventually leaves Hawkins to return home to his uncle. Who knows.

And then the ww2 au. This is such a unique idea!! I think it would be a soft slow burn where maybe Eddie is injured in the hospital (think demobat-adjacent wounds) and Chrissy's his nurse. Lots of soft tender moments and lots of comfort.

7 notes · View notes

historyhermann · 1 year

Text

The erasure of records, digitization, and 1990s Hollywood films

Gif of one of the scenes from Hackers (1995)

In the past week, I've watched a number of 1990s Hollywood films, such as Sneakers (1992), Hackers (1995), The Net (1995), and My Fellow Americans (1996), where the "everything's on the computer" state of records, as stated in passing in The Andromeda Strain (1971), has been reached. All of these films share a similar theme: the erasure and change of records (mostly digital), which has an increased relevance as archival institutions continue to digitize more and more of their records, although not everything, as I noted in my post about challenges of archival digitization in late April.

Reprinted from post on my History Hermann WordPress blog and Wayback Machine. Originally posted on May 19, 2019.

Looking at the 1990s films

Let's start with The Net, since it was the first of these films that I watched, computer with bulky hand-held phones and dial-up computers. In this film, Sandra Bullock plays an isolated middle-age White woman (Angela Bassett) who is a "program systems analyst from Los Angeles" who lives most of her life online, talking on chat rooms and ordering pizza. That all changes when she takes a trip to Cessna (before which there is a computer malfunction which screws with flights), Mexico, meets a man who basically seduces her in order to get control of a virus which is on a floppy disk, of all things. This plan fails, however, as she realizes, after literally sleeping with him for some reason, that he wants to kill her, so she gets away in a dingy that crashes on rocks, knocking her unconscious. She wakes up three days later in a hospital and the disk has been destroyed. As she is about to go back into the country, after a record was changed that checked her out of the hotel, she is told to sign a temporary visa document which states that her name is Ruth Marx.

As the movie goes from here, she realizes that her identity has been stolen by an imposter, with the change of records by the villains who want to make profits off their security technology and gain access to every system possible. With this, the movie is a bit of warning that it is very easy for someone to be digitally erased with so much of our lives online, with which you don't even have to spoil the ending. Clearly there are inept secondary characters (police officers, nurses, and jailers), many of whom, like sole archivist Madame Nu in Attack of the Clones think that records are inviolable and cannot be changed. The partially inept villains are even able to kill a few people, like the Undersecretary of Defense by falsifying a report saying he has AIDS and a friend of Bullock's character. At one point, she says that "our whole lives are on the computer, and they knew that I could be vanished. They knew that nobody would care and it wouldn't matter." Later she adds to the inept court-appointed lawyer, who believes in the inviolability of the records in that they cannot be tampered with, to defend her from false charges:

Just think about it. Our whole world is sitting there on a computer. It's in the computer. Everything. Your DMV records, your Social Security... your credit cards, your medical history. It's all right there. Everyone is stored. And there's this little electronic shadow on each of us... just begging for somebody to screw with. They've done it to me, and they're gonna do it to you...I'm not Ruth Marx. They invented her. They put her on your computer with my thumbprint.

There were some similar themes in the 1992 film, Sneakers, which starred Robert Redford. The film focuses around attempts to create a black box which would crack American codes, allowing access to any American security system. In the process, a team tries to steal the box back and one of the characters purchases blueprints from the county recorders office for $50.00, leading the movie to be cited as an example of "the use and portrayal of records in film." [1] With the information from the county recorder's office, and their own observations, they are able to break-in to the company of the villain and get the box, but before it is handed to the NSA of the characters removes the main processing chip.

There is more than that. Redford's character is basically a hacker, as was his friend Cosmo (who is the film's villain) who was arrested and thrown into prison for computer crimes. The black box has a similar power to malicious code in The Net. Again, the focus is that records can easily be changed, or in the case of this movie, mimicked, to certain ends. Like the previously mentioned film, the cast is mostly White, but a bit more diverse in that they have a former Black CIA agent on the team of the "heroes."

There's one other film which has similar themes: Hackers, which features Angelina Jolie in a starring role. It focuses on a group of teen hackers who work to take down a villain who wants to sink a few oil tankers while getting wealthy in the process. In this "cult classic" film, as some places call it, there are computers running on dial-up (like in The Net), huge portable phones, people in some of the nerdiest clothes ever, and moving of information around on...floppy disks! In fact, the virus itself is on a floppy disk.

The altering of records is a key part of this film as well, as the villain alters criminal records of the male protagonist and his mother to list them as criminals, blackmailing him to give up the floppy disk. In the end, this group of hackers, all men except Angelina Jolie's character, and all White except one kid with dreadlocks, sets out to take down the servers of the villain's mega-corporation, succeeding thanks to help from two Japanese hackers and their subsequent "electronic army" of hackers. Somehow they basically get off from their prison sentence thanks to a television broadcast from one of the hackers, which seems strange as he could be utterly lying. As with most movies of this nature, the plot doesn't always completely add up.

Finally, there is a bit of an outlier: the 1996 film, My Fellow Americans. This is perhaps the most hokey film of all, although archives is a main part of this film. Ex-Presidents, played by James Garner and Jack Lemmon, discover a scandal in the current administration. Lemmon discovers that conspirators have altered his official records, at his presidential library archival vault, in order to "erase traces of a meeting." At another time, Mark Lowethal's character goes to the National Archives, finding that the presidential appointment log does not show this meeting. [2] It turns out the culprit behind these changes is the current sitting present, the former vice-president, with his chief of staff being the one whom "doctored the Archives log and the log in Kramer's library."

In this case, the film does not involve the changing of a digital record but only the changing of a paper record. Still, this has a similar theme to the other three movies in that records can be doctored, manipulated, and changed to the benefit of certain individuals. Although, this can be, at times, easier to do with digital records than with paper records. I would also say the theme that records can be changed, erased, or rewritten follows through the Halt and Catch Fire series, along with shows like Mr. Robot, going into its last season this coming fall.

Why do these films matter?

"If I could take all the things that I am, all the feelings I have, all the things that I want, and somehow get them on a computer card, you would be the answer. I don't know why or how you've come along at this particular point in my life. See, that's the magic part. I'm not gonna let you go."- Dr. Sidney Schaefer talks to his girlfriend (who ends up being one of the people who is spying on him) in The President's Analyst, a 1967 film

They matter because more and more of the records held by archival institutions are digital, specifically "born-digital" (like tweets, Facebook posts). Of course, they are a bit dated, as they came out between 1992 and 1996. However, the point that records can be changed and manipulated should be considered. There should be measures in place to make sure that the records, especially digital records, are not tampered with. Perhaps this would require fixity checks, but also could necessitate rules on the usage of records themselves.

At the same time, the archives themselves should not be like the dark and haunting Thatcher Memorial Library in Citizen Kane, which has what some have described as having one of the world's meanest archivists, played by Georgia Backus, with hair up in a bun "and an intimidating stare on her face, a real dragon lady at the gates of knowledge." This is not the type of archives you want to go to! This is not the image which should be projected. [3]

What I have said so far is only scratching the surface. These 1990s movies have standing importance because born-digital files which are entering archives across the world, like some in New Zealand, include "photos, radio broadcasts and documents," requiring appropriate workflows. Margot Note, a prolific writer in this field, described that as a former lone arranger who directed all archival management at an organization she launched a project to digitize a set of records, creating digital surrogates of 2,000 of the collection's best images, adding that such surrogates are superior to past formats like microfilm since they can be delivered through networks "offering enhanced access to simultaneous users around the world." In the same article she advocated the importance of digital collections, saying they grant "valuable remote access to the information contained within the original records" if they are created within the appropriate archival infrastructure, with metadata and search functionality, indexing. She adds that digital collections of archival records can not only provide for "multiple points of access and enhanced image details" but it can allow for more in-depth study than analog originals, increase interest in items which have often been ignored,and it can also act as "an advocacy tool for an archives." She also argues that different types of digital surrogates of records can be created, either for web display, storage, or print reproduction. She ends by saying that while "electronic copies suffer no degradation through the duplication process," a copy of a digital photograph is "indistinguishable from its source" meaning that the "original" loses its meaning, and that with digitized images, "researchers risk losing information that enables them to understand how the image was accessed and how its physicality changed over time." As such, there should be efforts to limit or eliminate such a loss.

But there is another aspect to archival records. Librarian Carrie Wade argued back in December 2018 that information is political with information loss affected by federal funding decisions of research repositories ruining the work of professionals. Similarly in the case of archivists, they should not be completely neutral not only because who "we elect impacts our ability to do our jobs well and the access that people have to information," as she argues, but they literally cannot be neutral as they are human beings with viewpoints, emotions, and thoughts of their own. Building upon this, there are clear archival silences or "gaps in the archival record," with these silences "created and enforced within archives" as a result of practices that are "central to the work of archivists." Digital records, whether born-digital, like social media posts, or digitized paper records, can help bridge this gap. After all, paper or analog records can be digitized in ways that allows access to them through online channels while originals are restricted.

All of this is relevant to the 1990s films I referenced in the first half of this post, as it requires having effective records management programs. The policies regarding records not only in Hackers and The Net, or even My Fellow Americans and Attack of the Clones were clearly outdated, and should be taken as a warning to have correct policies. This also requires taking into account challenges with capturing resources that are born-digital and making it available, effectively curating this information for the user. Furthermore this is important as a major trend in libraries is collection of data to prove their value even though this has its downsides especially when it comes to ethical concerns with data mining and big data, even though this can be useful. At the same time, how material is defined for easy access is a challenge "to every content owner," as is choosing the right metadata, with "important detail work" in this process. The same is the case for finding more "accessible ways for people to find and scan content" and ways to share these "images with your target audience." [4]

Concluding words

All of this ties back, of course, to the classic animated sitcom, Futurama, with its mentions of "technical support," CDs, CD players/CD racks, and floppy disks (some of which are 15-inch). In fact, in one episode, "How Hermes Requisitioned His Groove Back" (season 2, episode 15), the last half of the episode is about going into the central bureaucracy to get back a disk with Bender's brain on it, which is floppy disk. Others mention existing government records, databases, a record vault (safe box) and an arrest record. In one episode Fry even declares to Bender that "I'm not a robot like you! I don't like having disks crammed into me" while in another he downloads "a celebrity from the Internet" from a parody of Napster, which is kidnapping celebrities and illegally copying them, with the "backup disk" being a floppy disk. Others focus on big data and concentration of information, digital cameras and operating systems.

I mention all of this because it shows the relevance of record erasure, digital archives, digitization, and the changing digital environment. This requires of course that you don't have "unauthorized data access" like Fry accessing the computer connected to the brain spawn. In the end, while these 1990s Hollywood movies are dated in various ways and problematic in others, they still have relevance connected to present developments of archival institutions in response to new technologies and making records more accessible to online users.

Notes

[1] Kyle Neill, Senior Archivist of the Peel Art Gallery Museum & Archives also argues that there are archival themes in The Dark Knight (2008), The Avengers (1998), Chinatown (1974), and Tinker, Tailor, Solider, Spy (2011).

[2] This reminds me of a major plot point in Thrill Seekers, a 1999 TV movie, where the protagonist finds out that there are people who travel in time (from the future) to disasters and serve as tourists, disgustingly watching people die. In the process, the researcher on staff at a local newspaper, a bit like a records clerk, has databases of newspapers on her computer, which he searches to find information, which she lets him use even though she just met him (not good records management). Ultimately she says that she will go to the National Archives to find the original images, proving that he was not lying about the time travelers. Later, the protagonist goes back and time and saves her. But, I thought I'd just mention this, as the fact she is a bit of a records clerk brings in line with the records clerks in Erin Brocovitch (2000) and Chinatown (1974). The former has a clerk who flirts with a law firm filing clerk (Erin Brocovitch) who uncovers wrongdoings of a water utility company on her three visits to the records office of the Regional Water Board, letting her into "a records storage area, piled high with files, papers and binders, where she proceeds to copy water records," allowing her to complete her work. The latter has a sullen young man who does not like his job, grudgingly providing assistance, with Jack Nicholson's character "tearing out part of a page from a record book by covering the noise with a cough" after he is told he cannot check out the volume.This clerk, as one reviewer puts it, has "a well crafted scene presenting a stereotypical records keeper" with the clerk/archivist as "an impatient, unhelpful civil servant guarding over his records domain who treats the public as trespassers" while the "records are in long aisles in bound volumes." Some have compared Erin Brocovitch to another film with records as central, specifically A Civil Action (1998).

[3] The same goes for Hollywood images of old archivists like in Vampires (1998) where the church archivist is introduced, a "slight, bearded man with glasses" whom is sent along on a quest," in They Might Be Giants (1971) where a wealthy lawyer, who thinks he is Sherlock Holmes, teams up with a psychiatrist "to try to rid the world of evil" and in the process, one person plays an aged archivist who, despite his problems, "does come across as the sanest person in the movie and he finds clues to track down Moriarity," or in Amityville II: The Possession (1982) when a father uses a local archives to find out about a hosue causing trouble for his family, and in the process he is helped by an elderly archivist, a person who says "I've worked here for 25 years." There are other mentions of archives, but without archivists in Arlington Road (1998), Batman Begins (2005), Beverly Hills Ninja (1997), Broken Lullaby (1994), GoldenEye (1995), Journey to the Far Side of the Sun (aka Doppelganger) (1969), L.A. Confidential (1997), Message in a Bottle (1999), Ninth Gate (1999), Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2017), Secret Nation (1991) [Canadian film], Shooting the Past (1999), Smila's Sense of Snow (1997), The Dark Knight (2008), The Name of the Rose (1986), The Phantom (1996), and The Shadow (1994). Also, there are said to be flirtatious archivists in Carolina Skeletons (1991) and Just Cause (1995), along with helpful ones (either initially or ultimately) in Cloud Atlas (2012), Deceived (1991), Quatermass and the Pitt (1967), The Fugitive (1993), and The Mask of Dimitrios (1944). There are also a number of films which have archivists in the background: Charlton-Brown of the F.O. (1959), Macaroni (1986), Red (2010), Ridicule (1996), Rollerball (1975), and The Age of Stupid (2009), and those that are said to have nasty or mean archivists: Blade (1998), In the Name of the Father (1993), Scream 3 (2000), The Nasty Girl [Das Schreckliche Madchen] (1990), and The Watermelon Woman (1996). Please, do not constitute this as an endorsement of any of these films, as likely they are mostly terrible.

[4] Also see articles about how libraries lead with digital skills and a cryptic finding aid.

#sneakers #hackers #the net #my fellow americans #the andromeda strain #libraries #archives #pop culture #floppy disc #halt and catch fire #mr. robot

44 notes · View notes

bogusboxed · 2 years

Text

Boxtober - Day 6: "Guidance From The Moon"

Day 6: -Homicidal Liu X GN!Reader "Candles, Lanterns & Fairy Lights" X “Adaptable, I like that.”

-I do not own "Homicidal Liu" and do not take credit for him.

Trigger Warnings!!! "Gore & Toxic Behaviors."

FLASHBACK

You could hear your parents' or guardians' talking irrationally to one another as you stepped away from them, turning your back. You had just finished an interrogation with a police officer and an interview with a nicely dressed woman who you had guessed was a news reporter. At least that's what you remembered. All your thoughts were fuzzy at the moment as you tried to piece them back together. You then slowly made your way to the carpeted staircase as your caretaker's voices slowly fade away. Though you tried to listen in as much as you could as you departed. So much had just happened within a timeframe of hours.

You had people storm your house, either in a riot or for want of fame. And it was all because you had been close friends with Liu Woods. The boy was also directly related to Jeffery Woods. The government promised to keep your information under wraps originally. That was until the second killing. The second murder was committed by your dear friend Liu Woods. Then, they couldn't retain it anymore. Or maybe they just didn't want to anymore. It's just too much work for them now. Too much effort.

They didn’t tell you much about what happened because your parents or guardians hadn’t let them. However, that didn't stop social media or the radio. They told you in a cheery voice with little to no empathy in their tone about the murders that took place. You knew that Jeff had gone rogue and killed his mother and father with no clear motive. Then, he proceeded to attempt to murder Liu along with them. The police didn’t tell you that, nor did your caretakers. You found out on your own and had Liu clarify it for you.

You remember sitting by Liu’s hospital bed, anxiously waiting for him to wake up and tell you that everyone was making it up. But that never came. The only thing that arrived was the truth that Liu made you see. And after that, you visited every single day after school to check up on him. Which your caretakers didn't want or approve of, but when did you listen to them? He always seemed so grateful when you walked into his room. On the first day he woke up, he talked about that night in such clear and vile detail. And the worst part was that he made you listen to it. He made you share his trauma and you couldn't do anything but be a good friend. But then every day forward he wouldn’t mention it. It was as if he had just moved on, but it was probably a PTSD thing. Or maybe he saw how uncomfortable you were the day before and chose not to talk about the subject any longer.

You remember that he didn’t like his nurse because she talked badly about his brother and how much of a bitch he was. You remember the stupid idle chat you two had, whether it was gossiping about the nurse or how both of your days went. And how you'd unzip your backpack to show how much candy you snuck in for him. And now you're here on this old staircase thinking about if he murdered someone and not about what type of candy you were going to buy him. Now on this old staircase having no closure. Having no one to tell you what happened. Having no way to know if he was alright. And it left your mind restless. You came up with the worst theory. That Liu went through with it. He went through with killing the nurse and going down with his brother. You just had a gut feeling Liu had butchered that poor lady, and you could have warned her. But, you didn't because you feared that they would take Liu away. Such a childish and selfish reason. Or maybe that bad feeling was that Jeff came back and finished the job. But, that felt worse somehow. You knew the thoughts coming in and out of your mind weren’t right. Maybe it was due to the exposure or maybe it was due to losing your friend. All you knew was the fact that you’d probably never see Liu again. And maybe that was for the better.

You knew you were going to miss your friend though. Perhaps because he was your only friend in middle school. And that those bullies would come back with more nicknames than before. Calling you a murderer or an accomplice to one. Or maybe they would stop and fear you. You were so confused and angry at everyone. It wasn’t your fault that this happened. No matter what anyone says, you didn’t influence him to do this. Jeff did. You blamed him the most. But, you couldn’t hold that grudge because Liu said not to. But Liu was always a little off, especially the more you came around, occasionally saying his name was "Sully." But, the moment you call him that, Liu will correct you. It was confusing. But, you were sure it was just as confusing for Liu as it was for you.

You remember finally getting up those stairs with tears making your eyes turn glassy. You wanted to pass out and just sleep it off. Let everything resolve itself rather than try and fix it. As you entered your room, a familiar face with visible scars caught your attention. It was Liu. He was in your room with the window wide open. You remember him talking to you frantically but still managing to keep it together. He persuaded you to leave, and you did. He was your only friend and the only thing that made sense to your middle-school brain at the time. So, you put a few belongings into your old backpack from school and disappeared discreetly from your residence. You were going to help him find Jeff and get out of this together. You wouldn't have to suffer and go through it if you just ran for it. So you left, with only the moon and Liu to guide you through the dark forest.

END OF FLASHBACK

And that’s still where you are today. In a forest with the infamous Liu Woods, still having the moon guide you with every step at twenty-one. You hadn’t left his side after that. And it was still surreal to see him and his brother's stories in every newspaper with your name laced in there a couple of times. People believed Liu came back and murdered you, while others thought you ran after Liu and slaughtered him. They were always missing something in their little stories, though. Whether it was you being alive or Liu still caring about his younger brother. There were even a few documentaries on the Woods family, which was pretty fucked up, but you couldn't just come back and complain. So, presently, you are still here with Liu after all these years. You still trust him to this day. He was the only thing you truly bonded with and cared for. You, Liu, and his alter, Sully, had all become a team. And your team’s only goal was to track down Jeff. Liu desperately wanted to unite with his brother once again. While Sully, on the other hand, didn’t want to see Jeff ever again.

That’s what brought you two into another forest. Because Liu got some leads about him being in this area and not to mention he had already run off looking for Jeff. But, you were tasked with making a camp-like fort for the next two weeks. Which was rare because you three never stayed in one place for very long. You guys always had to skip town when Jeff got back on the news or Liu’s tracking skills caught onto Jeff. But, you weren't even going to lie to yourself; getting to stay in one spot for a while is a dream come true. Maybe nature's flooring wouldn't be the best for your back, but you'd rather have back pain than leg pain.

A week ago, you managed to convince Liu to let you stay in the same place for two whole weeks. Sully took your side instantly, whilst Liu was more hesitant to do so. He wanted to carry on traveling, but he was conscious of the fact that you would continue to pry about it at every stop. And to him, this forest was good enough due to the high sightings of Jeff. So, he finally allowed you to have what you wanted. He allowed you to win because it played in his favor. Liu identified Jeff's location around or near this area within a week of hearing stories of the two families who mysteriously vanished with little to no trace. You’ve never seen him so excited and you’ve never seen Sully so scared.

Sully was Liu's alter and he was only thirteen years old, and he would stay that way until Liu died. Your heart went out to Sully because he was a child going through all this. But, you never said anything since he had violent anger issues and would probably hate you more. Sully and your relationship wasn’t the best, but you’ve seen Sully hate others worse. And he only hated you because he felt you influenced and helped Liu track down Jeff. Which he wasn’t all wrong about.

You could have definitely done something over the years, maybe to change him. But, you didn’t want to. You weren’t a leader; you were a follower. And you would follow Liu to the ends of the earth. Because he was all you had left. At least that’s what he told you, and on those days Sully never spoke. You knew he was playing you like a record, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. Of course, there were going to be some messed-up aspects to your friendship after everything you two had been through. But, you always knew that, at the end of the day, it was you and him against the world. Because, whether he wanted to accept it or not, he would’ve died without you. On those nights when you had to support him because he got too close to the sun and got hurt. The sun, in this case, is Jeff. He had no remorse for Liu, and he constantly made it clear through his violent behavior. And if you brought it up with Liu, he'd kill you.

You remember the night and the first time he found him. Liu didn’t want you to go with him, believing you’d mess up something. So he went alone. And when he didn’t come back for five hours, you went out for him. You remember all the gory details. He was lying on the ground with a deep crimson cut on his chest, bleeding through his shirt, and had a broken arm that was barely hanging on. You could see his insides as well as his fractured bones. You cleaned and covered his wounds to the best of your ability. He didn’t speak a word that night. You assumed he was fighting with Sully, or maybe he was just trying to process the newfound trauma.

Now you're here, pillows and blankets in hand, to decorate your shared tent. You stole a few things from a corporate furnishing company down the street. You went against Liu a respectable amount by stealing, but you knew you could push it. So, you now had two pillows firmly tucked underneath your arm whilst you had a backpack full of random stuff slung over your shoulder. They were assorted items that looked interesting and were snatched up on the way out and thrown into your backpack with no thought. You moved slower than you should be due to the weight of your gear. You were in the thick of the forest. Every single turn felt so familiar, yet not at all. You could feel the wind’s, gentle breeze on you as you marched through the forest. The temperatures were freezing and only dropping. As you scouted for the obnoxious blue tarp of a tent, you set up a bit ago.

It didn’t take long to find your temporary home as you deeply inhaled the forest’s pine smell. You crouched down to the tent's level as you snuck into it. You laid out the four blankets, all having various designs, as you placed two pillows on each side of the tent. The tent may not have been too spacious, but it was enough. You reached into your backpack for the other items you’d gathered. You had one pack of fairy lights, one metal camp lantern, and a large candle. You aligned the fairy lights on the inside of the tent as you left your lantern right outside. You then placed the candle in a safe and secure spot, even going as far as to tape it down with duct tape. You used your old lighter to light the candle. The unmarked candle let off a sweet cinnamon roll-like smell, quickly scenting the tent with its pleasant smell.

You sat down to take a second to admire your hard work. From the pretty fairy lights that light up the tent and give it a warm, home-like feeling. To the candle, bringing the entire tent together. It looked and felt so cozy. You soon start hearing quiet footsteps outside the tent, followed by a loud sigh. The figure approached the tent as they crouched. You heard the zipper of the tent being opened. You could feel your posture stiffen. You trusted your gut. And you were right, it was Liu. He fit his slender frame into the tent with ease, as he looked confused, looking at each corner of the tent. He sighed once again, sitting down. He had his computer in hand.

"I take it that tracking down Jeff didn't go so well," you said, as he grumbled as his gaze shifted to you. "I suppose," he said as he sat on one of the fleece blankets you had stolen. He looked at everything, observing, even looking at you for a brief moment. "Looks like you’ve been having fun." He crisscrossed his legs as he pulled his computer onto his lap, inhaling the air. "What’s the next step?" you asked, tilting your head at him. You asked him questions you knew the answer to but he still answered, no matter how stupid the question was. He opened his dark silver laptop, which was older than he was, and began to type. "Track down Jeff like it always is," Liu explained, as you sat there staring at him.

"Do you ever take a break?" you genuinely questioned him as he looked up from his computer at you. He exhaled as he answered. "Not really, but it's going to come full circle eventually." You could tell from his voice he hasn't lost an ounce of determination from the time he escaped to now. You were both excited and put off by it. You grabbed your old raggedy backpack and looked inside for the thing you'd been saving. You grabbed two cans of soda as you tapped his leg with the sole of your shoe. He sighed and turned to look up once more. His serious gaze turned soft for a moment as he watched you, jester, a can of soda his way. You didn’t resist as he took the can from you. And with one hand on his computer and the other on the soda can. He managed to open the can with one hand, which surprised you. And your face displayed your newfound shock. And you knew if you tried to do that you’d fail miserably, so you used both of your hands to open it. While you stared at his skills in envy.

You put your open soda can towards him. Which he squinted at you for. He finally understood what you were talking about after you motioned for him to clink it. "To a temporary home and too soon finally finding Jeff," you said as he tapped his drink gently against yours. He agreed with that, smiling. He took a sip, as you did the same. You watch his dark green eyes, which could be compared to the color of the trees outside, dart back to his screen. His dark chestnut hair covered the majority of his freckled face. You soon gazed at his stitched scars, and you became curious. The doctors never had the chance to remove the stitches, which left them in his cheeks. The stitching resembled little x's, which was a daily reminder of why you two were here. They decorated his cheeks and most of his face, with the occasional one on his arms and neck. He covered himself well, though. Especially with his dark striped sage scarf that was much larger than it should've been. He’s worn it for a while. You gave him that scarf for his birthday. The first birthday away from home.

"What do you think of the fort?" you asked him as you began to get into more of a comfortable position. "Well, it’s pretty…’ ‘adaptable, I like that." he paused between words to look around. "The candle, however, is a fire hazard," he noticed your displeased frown because that was the only thing you weren't willing to mention. He smiled due to your annoyance. He slowly stopped taking another sip to focus on his laptop. "I heard about what you did from the people complaining about you in the coffee shop. You made a scene." he didn’t seem all that impressed with your antics though, he didn't seem all that mad.

"And I’m trying to ignore it so we don’t leave earlier than I promised." he glanced at you from the corner of his eye, trying to spot your reaction. You sighed heavily. You knew eventually he’d pull something just not this early. You could feel disappointment rising. "I'm determined to keep my promise," he said, clicking something on his computer. You smiled in response. You knew he was direct and if he wanted out, he would tell you straight. He wouldn't hesitate to pick you up, throw you over his shoulder, and leave. He was going to keep his promise.

You scooted your way toward him after you put down your drink. You tried being sneaky. He didn’t seem to notice originally when you scooted toward him. But as you rested your head against his shoulder he did react with a flinch. You were drowsy from all that running away from the cops then, and the walking. Who could blame you for wanting to rest on a portable heater? He stopped typing as you got cozy, directly pushing the back of your head into his soft scarf. "If you were tired, you could've told me," he sighed, shifting into a better position for the both of you. He lightly pulled you down onto his thigh so you could rest easily. You fully lay down, using his leg as a pillow. You took full advantage of this grand opportunity as he didn't fight back. He went back to typing as you exhaled.

"You're soft, you know that?" you didn’t even notice the words slipping out of your mouth, but when you did, you felt heat rise in your cheeks. You always have had your impulsive thoughts win when you were sleepy. You just couldn't fight back the fatigue well. "You're full of surprises," he said, slightly shaking his head. "Get some rest, Reader." he didn’t mind this as he still tried to track down Jeff even at this moment. You closed your eyes as you started to completely relax. Even with everything, you still managed to get comfortable. Even if the hard dirt floor was only under your tent and some blankets.

You felt something suddenly get pulled over you due to the warmth. You blinked your eyes open slightly. Liu had pulled a blanket over you like the gentleman he was. He then soon rested his hand on your head, running his hand through your hair. In a way, petting you to sleep. His gentle touch was more than enough to coax you to sleep. You drifted to sleep as you heard him lightly type away. This was your life now and you let it happen because he was the moonlight that lit the way in every step.

#homicidal liu x reader #homicidal liu x you #homicidal liu x y/n #liu woods x reader #liu woods x you #liu woods x y/n #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #creepypasta x y/n #fictober22 #fluffober

47 notes · View notes

multifandomfanfiction · 2 years

Text

Two Ghosts Chapter 13

TITLE: Two Ghosts Chapter 13 PAIRING: Rooster/OC RATING: T CHAPTER: 13/? SUMMARY: It was just a routine training session, but it changed Noel “Mongoose” Grenier’s life forever. The legends of pilots flying through time vortexes was true, because it happened to her. Dropped into 1984 during Maverick’s Top Gun training, she must navigate keeping her secret while also completing the program…again. Will she return to her own time unscathed? Or will she lose her heart in the process?

[A/N - Welcome to the canon ending of “Two Ghosts”. This is the ending that was originally planned. There’s still some more angst, but there’s happiness on the horizon!]

When Mongoose opened her eyes, instead of being dead she found herself in a hospital…again.

“Why do you always do this, kid? You should’ve descended when I told you!”

She coughed. “I always feel so much better after we’ve talked, Mav.” Mongoose opened her eyes and saw an older Maverick sitting by her bedside.

“You want me to get Rooster? I seem to remember you wanting him the last time you woke up.” Maverick stood up and she grabbed his wrist.

“Wait. It…it was real…right?”

Maverick kissed her hairline. “Your secret’s safe with me, Minx.”

As Maverick left, reality came crashing down on her.

Oh god. Iceman.

Iceman was dead and she never even got to say goodbye. She started to cry as Rooster ran into the room. “Bradley…”

He threw his arms around her. “I thought I lost you, princess.”

The nickname made her cry even harder. She’d only had Tom for a few weeks, but she felt like a piece of her had died with him.

“Shh, you’re safe. I got you.”

Mongoose fisted Rooster’s flight suit in her hands and breathed in the scent his cologne mixed with sweat and jet fuel to ground herself. This was real. Rooster was really here.

Her Rooster.

“That’s right, baby. Your Rooster.” He pressed kisses to her hair and forehead as he tried to calm her. “Hey, hey. What can I do?” Rooster asked her.

Nothing, Mongoose wanted to say. Nothing he could do would make this okay.

Eventually, the nurse came in and gave her a sedative to calm her down.

“Roo-Roo?” Mongoose asked him as she felt the medicine start to kick in.

Rooster lowered her to the bed and Mongoose grabbed a hold of Rooster’s wrist. “Shh. It’s okay,” he cooed.

“Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me.” Mongoose was afraid that if she closed her eyes, Rooster would disappear and she’d wake up in 1984 all over again.

Rooster stroked her cheek. “Go to sleep, princess.”

Mongoose closed her eyes and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

Rooster stood up and kissed Mongoose’s forehead before leaving the room. “They gave a sedative. She wouldn’t stop crying.”

“Well she did almost die, Bradshaw,” Hangman told him.

“You guys go. I’ll stay here with her,” Maverick said.

“Are you sure? I should…” Rooster started to argue.

Maverick put a hand on his shoulder. “Go get cleaned up and get some rest. It’s been a tough day on all of you.”

Rooster looked into Mongoose’s room. “You’ll tell me when she wakes up?”

Maverick nodded. “I’ll have someone come get you.”

Rooster left with the others and Maverick sank down into the chair next to her bed.

He looked up to the ceiling. “Talk to me, Ice.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Unlike the last time, Mongoose was quickly discharged from the hospital and the first place she went was Maverick’s office.

“Hey, you should be sleeping,” he told her.

“You should be too.” She sat down in the chair across from his desk. “I can’t stop thinking about him.”

“Goose?”

She shook her head.

Maverick leaned back in his chair and sighed. “What do you want me to say?”

“Talk some sense into me!”

Maverick just looked at the younger pilot in front of him.

Somehow, she’d ended up in 1984 and then just weeks later had been thrust back into the 21st century after giving her heart to another man.

“I can’t talk to anyone but you about this and it’s killing me inside, Mav. All I can think about is Ice.”

“He was heartbroken, you know? Swore he’d never fall in love again, especially not with another pilot. Then Sarah came along. She was a civilian, but I think he missed your fire. A part of him continued to love you, even after your ‘death’. You should have seen the look on his face when he saw your file. He was convinced you were a ghost coming back to haunt him. He wanted to come see you, but I told him that probably wasn’t a good idea.”

Mongoose chuckled. “I met him once, you know? At our Top Gun graduation. I had no idea…”

“Well Ice was always good at hiding how he was feeling. I’m sure he wanted to tell you everything right then and there, but Rooster’s a good guy.”

“But I don’t…”

“Part of you does, kid. He’ll never be Tom, but he loves you. Maybe you’ll learn to love him how he loves you.”

Mongoose stood up and got ready to leave when Maverick stopped her.

“Ice wanted me to give this to you.” He handed her a wooden box.

“Thank you, Mav.”

“Anytime, Minx.”

Mongoose rolled her eyes. “Please stop calling me that.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Pete.”

Taglist: @indynerdgirl @alanadetigy @the-untamed-soul @marland56 @ireadthensuetheauthors @kassieesworld @theforevermorereject @maverick-dont-think-just-do @thescarletknight2014 @maverick-goose-rooster @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @yougottalovefandoms @maverick-wingman @shrimping-for-all

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster/oc #rooster imagines #bradley rooster bradshaw imagines #pete maverick mitchell #pete maverick mitchell imagines #jake hangman seresin #Jake hangman seresin imagines #top gun:maverick imagines #top gun: maverick

38 notes · View notes