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hyperfixiation-station · 1 month

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🥺 hi. I get so anxious asking for requests. So I’m sorry if it’s weird. But could I please please Pleaseee get a ghost x fem reader. Hurt to comfort. They were on a mission and she’s there for medic help. Not even to fight. But she got taken by the bad guys. And she gets tortured for information that she doesn’t have. And they play mind games with her. Making her think that they will never come rescue her. They really fully break her body and break her mind by the end of it. But before she thinks she’s about to finally die, Ghost and the others come and save her. And it’s about how the only person she feels safe with after all that is ghost and just him helping her heal and get back to the woman she was before all this. I want it to hurt my soul. 😭 but then there’s hope at the end of it bc they have each other.

My Heart Will Go On

Don't be, I love when people ask me things, and I looooved this request so much!!! I too like to torturehave fun with my OC's :)

TW: Blood, torture, manipulation

Pairing: GhostxReader

Part 2

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. It wasn’t supposed to happen at all, actually. It was just another mission, another day on the job. You went out with the boys as usual, their assigned medic as theyghost refused to work with anybody else. You weren’t sure why. Maybe it was your soft demeanor, your gentle touch, the way you never judged himthem for anything hethey did. But whatever it was, they liked you, and so with them you went.

You hung back at the evac point, also as usual. Sitting in the truck, first aid kit on your lap, a comm in your ear as you listened to your boys and made sure they were all okay. It was a tense fight, gunshots and pained grunting filling your headset. You were on edge, rocking back and forth as you listened for your que to come in. In fact, you were so focused on the comms that you didn’t even notice the danger you were in until it was too late.

Your first cue something was wrong was when the comms went silent. The sounds of battle filled your ears for hours before getting cut off abruptly. Your hand shot to the comm link, fiddling with it as you frantically tried to reconnect, worried something was wrong.

“Ghost, do you copy?”

“Ghost?”

“Price?”

“Gaz?”

“Can you hear me??” Your voice got more and more panicked as you got no response. You yanked the headset off and shrugged your vest on, kit in hand as you slid out of the truck.

Your second clue something was wrong was when you looked up to see the barrel of a gun pointed directly at your face. You didn't even have time to ask ‘what’ before everything went dark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hello, princesa.” You blink hard as the blindfold is removed from your eyes. The light is blinding, the splitting headache you got from being pistol whipped only intensifying under the harsh lights.

“Who are you?” You manage after a moment, eyes slowly focusing on the man in front of you. He is large, easily over six foot, and built like an absolute unit. His face is covered by a black balaclava, though his scarred, tattooed forearms are on display.

“Don’t play stupid with me.” His voice is deep and smooth, and if you weren’t in the situation you are in you would have asked him to keep talking.

“‘M not! I don't-"

“Don’t lie to me Princesa. I don’t like liars.” A shiver runs down your spine as his tone darkens.

“But I’m-”

“Ah ah lovie, I am one asking questions here.”

“I wasn’t ask-”

“SHUT UP!” You flinch back at the drastic change in tone, the sound sending bolts of pain through your skull.

“Oh sorry Princesa, did that hurt?” Seriously, you are going to get whiplash from his bi-polar personality, “Forgot you have concussion. Let's get you Advil for that and then we see if you talk, yeah?"

You watch with blurry vision as he leaves the room, slamming the door shut behind him. The sound sends waves of agony through your pounding head, and by the time you can focus again he's back.

All it takes is one well placed blow to the head, an attempt to get you to pay attention, and you're out like a light.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I don’t know anything I swear! Please! I don't know anything!” The sobs tear raggedly out of your throat, already raw from screaming. Your voice is scratchy and broken, but still you can't stop begging.

“I don’t know anything” You sob. Those words, I don’t know, had become your motto over the past few daysweeks(?)

“Oh Princesa. I know.” He croons, running a finger down your bruised face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time was meaningless. Has it been 2 days since you were captured? Two weeks? Months? You don’t know. Your meals come at staggered times, and your captors never come at a routine time. The lights turn on and off at staggered times, nothing in a set pattern, a system created to mess with your mind.

Not that you know that. This wasn’t the kind of life you lived. You were a medic for heaven's sake. Your hands had been built to mend, to fix, to heal. Not to clutch at broken bones, to scratch against cement, to be chained and broken. You arewere a gentle creature, not designed for this world of torture and terror.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"They no come for you." You moan as the words pound through your skull, nearly unintelligible.

"Wh'...y'say?" You mumble, voice scratchy and broken.

"You're friends, Princesa. They are no coming for you." He sighs and moves next you, prodding your side with his steel-toed boot, "You are replaceable, your skills are easily replicated, they no spend time and resources to find a simple medic."

"They…'ll c'me." You wheeze, refusing to belive that Price, that Gaz, that Soap, that Ghost, would just...leave you.

He laughs in response, digging his toe into your side until your gasping in pain.

"We shall see, Princesa. We shall see."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You weren’t built for this. Weren’t built to recognize the manipulation, the mind games. Weren’t built to survive the two-face man who was reshaping your brain. The man who was your greatest source of pain, but also your only friend. The man that flayed your flesh open, but soothed and bandaged you when it was all over. This man, who was slowly becoming the only thing you could trust in your unstable world. He may bring you unbearable pain, but he brought you comfort too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"That looks bad, Princesa." The man lightly touches the bones sticking out of your forearm. You whine in pain, clutching it to your chest. He chuckles, wiping your blood off on the cell floor.

"Let's get that fixed up, yeah?" His voice is soft, and gentle, and the nicest thing you've heard in a loooong time. His touch is the same, gentle caresses of bruised and broken skin, revolting and appealing at the same time.

Oh, it's utter agony as he sets and stitches your arm with no pain killers. You scream, back arching, lungs heaving, body seizing.

But after? Oh it's heaven. He holds you, cradling you against his warm body, making sure you don't go into shock, telling you you're a good girl, and that you've made him proud. You hate yourself for it, but you can't help but preen at the praise.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He brings you a calendar. One month. It’s been one month since you got taken.

“It’s been over a month.” He says, a deep voice tinged with pity, “and no sign of your…friends. I’d give up being rescued if I were you, because they clearly have.” You can barely hear him as you stare at the paper in his hands, 31 days marked off with big, bright X’s. 31 days that you have been trapped here. 31 days that your squad…hadn’t come for you. Is he right? Are they really not coming? Did Ghost really give up on you? Are you-

“Ay Princesa, I even did what you asked. I sent your squad pictures and videos that even the greenest tech member could pull some coordinates from, but nothing. It’s like I said. Your ‘friends’ don’t care for you. They are not coming for you. I am your only friend in this place. Tell me, who bandages your wounds, who feeds you, who makes sure your living space is comfortable?”

“Y-you do.” You whisper uncertainty, “But…you also hurt me, don’t you?”

“Oh Princesa, I wouldn’t hurt ya if y’ would just listen. It not torture if you're disobedient. It's just…punishment.” His voice is sickeningly sweet, “And you just back-talked me. Do you remember what happens when you try to give me sass?”

"I get…punished." You mumble, cheeks flushing with shame.

"Obviously, you fucking idiot. I mean how."

"I…you…I have to do affirmations."

"Look at that, y'r gettin' it!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Say it again." He snarls. You sit in front of a mirror, face bruised, bleeding, and swollen.

"I 'm r'pl'c'able, my friends…'re n-no'...c'min'...I 'm no' l'v'ble…I 'm r'pl'c'…able." You whisper for the hundredth time.

"Again."

"I 'm r'pl'c'able, my friends 're no'...c'min'...I 'm no' l'vable, I 'm r'pl'c'…able."

"Again!"

"I 'm r'pl'c'able, my friends 're no'...c'min'...I 'm no' l'vable, I 'm r'pl'c'…able."

He makes you keep going, repeating those 4 sentences until you literally can't make sound anymore, a fact he tests by seeing how much it takes to get you to scream. You pass out before he gets anywhere.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Ghost?"

"Simon?"

"Please."

"Why are you not coming for me?"

just FYI if the timing seems disjointed and the speech is wierd, that is intentiweird,

anyways I hope you liked it!!!!

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tokimihyachi · 7 months

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right where you left me

pairing/s: neuvillette x reader context: fontaine's chief justice experiences his first heartbreak and realizes he may be in love. desperately and hopelessly so.

He supposed it was fine.

For a whole week, Neuvillette had meticulously planned on taking you out for dinner so that he could confess by the insistence of Sedene with the support of all Melusines. After all, they were tired of watching the two of you chasing each other in circles.

It didn't matter if he was the Chief Justice of Fontaine with a jam-packed schedule. It did not matter even if he's just finished one of the worst and most soul-draining trials in his time as the Iudex. He would drop it all at your beckon; in a heartbeat if you asked him, needed him. So long as it was you the word hesitation could kiss itself goodbye. He doesn't have the time, but for you, he could.

But due to an emergency, you had to cancel at the last minute.

There is an old saying that tells the tale of a dragon’s hardened shell made from the rarest and strongest of ores in all of Teyvat; a material of stardust no mortal could ever dream to acquire. And yet in these small moments that equated some sort of indirect rejection from you, he rather thought that perhaps his shell was not as tough as the other Sovereigns.

“Monsier Neuvillette, are you sure it's fine?”

He watches the way your eyes crinkle, the anticipation of disappointment from him settling in your gaze as you await his reply, and the thought of being selfish just this once is clawing within his chest. Be honest, say the truth. He had lived under the light of truth for as long he breathed so why was it so hard to do so now?

But he also catches your subtle, minuscule gaze at the clock behind him and he knows whatever the emergency was is important to you. And the mere thought of him preventing you from being where you should be, somewhere, with someone far more consequential than him wounds him.

Neuvillette wondered that if love always felt as agonizing as this, why would any person willingly place themselves in such torment? And yet one look at you and he knew. If he could endure a heartache for a single moment with you...

He would endure a hundred more.

“Of course, [Name]. We can reschedule another time.”

The restaurant would always be open, doors waiting for your steps, valets expecting your presence. But that did not change the fact that it ached and hurt in every crevice of his hollow heart he never knew he could feel pain from.

But since it was you, it should be fine.

It's fine.

It is fine.

But it also hurts.

Why does it hurt this much?

#genshin x you #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshinimpact #one shot #impact #genshin drabbles #genshin x gender neutral reader #neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x y/n #neuvillette x you #angst #genshin imagines #genshin oneshots #live laugh love angst #fontaine #neuvillette needs a hug

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alycias-wonderland · 8 months

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Love Hurts

I need to get this off my chest bro😭like imagine Satoru Gojo. THE Satoru Gojo being the most toe curling, spine chilling, puke inducing, cringe awakening down bad simp for you. But that you just so happen to hate his guts. Like I'm not talking 'oh I don't really like this guy but I can still be civil around him' type of hate.

I'm talking, immediately sighing when he walks into the room, openly talking shit about him(both to his face and behind his back) and just refusing to go on missions with him.No one knows why you hate him so much, and really they didn't really blame you the guy could be annoying but it was really starting to hurt them seeing the two of you interact.

Watching how Gojo would come back from a mission and you would be the first person he went to see and vice versa. Whenever you came back from a mission; gravely injured or not, you found Gojo being the first person you saw...and you hated him for it. You didn't want to see his ugly ass old man hair and glow-in the dark, night-light type beat eyes. You wanted to see your friends. And you made it very clear.

Yet did he listen? No.

He went on ahead and still did it. Remembering miniscule but significant details about you, yet you still never gave the poor man a chance.

No one knew what he was thinking, since he took all the insults you gave him with a cheery smile and a chirpy 'are you done now?'

However, if you looked closely, you could tell it hurt him. To see you-someone he loved and would go above and beyond for- talk so negatively about him; going so far as to curse him, made him want to curl up and cry on his worst days. But like a wise singer once said, 'the heart wants what it wants'

He couldn't help it. He craved your touch, your voice, you affection. All your pretty little chortles and laughs. The laughter you swore was ugly but to him it was like the tinkering of bells.

He wanted your tears; he wanted to cradle you into his arms as you sobbed, weeping and thrashing in his hold, but he wouldn't let go because he loved you.

Unfortunately, you would never, ever be able to return his feelings.

#headcanons #scenarios #alycia'swonderland #random rambles #jjk scenarios #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #live laugh love angst #jjk drabbles

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mirick-vn · 9 months

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I have a fanfic idea where Noé is stuck in a time loop on the day he kills Vanitas. Or atleast a few days before he kills Vanitas or sumn?? Either way, Noé has to kill Vanitas.

Now I think Noé was controlled when he initially killed Vanitas?? By Ruthven, the Teacher, idc, as long as he was mind controlled and as soon as he snapped out and realised he's killed Vanitas he goes fucking batshit crazy and kills the one that cobtrolled him. Which then threw him in the timeloop where he has to kill Vanitas without external uhhhh interference?? Influence? idk, but he basically has to kill Vanitas out of his own will now without the help of numbing his mind because of mind control or some shit.

And Noé, of course tries to change his(or their) fate. Doing his best to avoid leading up to the moment where he has to kill Vanitas. But at the end of each day, no matter how much Noé tries, Vanitas always ends up dying. Either by accident or some other sick circumstance, he always ends up dead in the end. And Noé has to wake up 'the next day' to relive Vanitas' death again some other way.

The cycle repeats until he eventually actually kills Vanitas with his own two hands or some shit without the help of being mind controlled. Once he accomplishes that he passes out and wakes up the next day only to find out that... Vanitas is actually gone now. He finally broke free, he finally won't have to suffer seeing the person he loves dying right before his eyes every day, but it also means he actually went through with killing him. That Vanitas' death this time was by his own hands. And he doesn't know how to cope with that, so he just... breaks.

Or idk, whatever fits

#i need a fanfic of this #i may or may not write this actually #who knows #im very lazy #i might also be mischaracterising them #but im here for the suffering not the accuracy #dont mind my rambling #fanfic ideas #???#ish #idk #idk what to tag this as #vanitas no carte #vnc #vanoé #vanoé my beloved #live laugh love angst #we love angst #angst ideas??

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nitrogeneix · 2 years

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Bittersweet notes

Aaron Hotchner x child!reader

TW: angst, mentions of violence, guns, knifes, glass, Foyet, trauma??? neglect(I think), death, mentions of panic attacks(past), little bit of yelling, ooc most likely.

wc- maybe over 500 i forgot

a/n: trying out a new writing style, really slow in updating. Lmk if I missed any warnings I should add. Reader should be around 11-12. Gn!reader

"Music expresses that which cannot be said on which it is impossible to be silent on." -Victor Hugo

You stood by the musical hall, on your phone trying to text your father before you had to put it away. It was finally the day of your performance and no sign of him showing up. Restlessly you pulled your phone again while clicking on the contact;

Dad :)

Out came out messages only sent from you.

Leaving home soon!

Are you gonna pick me up?

Nvm babysitter offered to drop me off

Dad? You there????

Hello?

Saving you a seat, the usual

Are you gonna come?

I have to enter the building soon, won't be able to text

Dad?

Going inside, remember it's stage 4, seat 20, love you

Your finger hit the erase

You're still coming right?

"Hey y/n ! Hurry inside you have to change, you're the closing musician."

You looked up at the sound of your name, "mhm I will, I just need to make a quick call, I'll be there in a bit." The person simply shrugged and left as you clicked dial.

A few seconds passed by and as you were about to hang up the call connected.

Hotchner.

Dad?

Y/n? Why are you calling did something happen.

A sudden pang ran through your heart, you ignored the feeling before answering

Uh no I just thought you were- anyways are you doing a case right now?

No I'm, I'm with Beth, are you sure you're alright? Is Jack alright?

Jack's fine! He's with the babysitter and I'm- I'm at-

"Aaron is everything alright? They've already called our table."

You could hear Beth's voice linger with a bit of worriness, whether it was something bad happening or their date being ruined.

Listen y/n I have to hang up now, I'll check your messages afterwards if that's okay?

You choked back a sniffle,

Y-yeah no that's fine by me, have fun.

Love you y/n

Mhm

When the call ended you only shoved your phone in your bag and walked into the hall. It was filled with people, you pushed your way through and made it backstage with moments to spare; walking into a dressing room.

Sighing you decided it was time to change. You pulled out a dress shirt, vest and pants, before adjusting the red tie, the one your father gave you. You sat in the room for a bit before you pulled out the piece you were supposed to play. It seemed like almost yesterday....

You were just a small child who picked up the violin as a hobby. Your mother, Haley, had been playing the piano as a young girl but never really pursued it. Rather than wanting to follow her steps you wanted to be closer to her, and you learned that violinists have an accompanist. Your first lessons consisted of learning the basics, and the years after that was learning how to be in sync with your mother, which was easily accomplished.

You wouldn't say you were a prodigy but according to the public you were, and a good one at that. Haley would take you to small competitions and when you won them, she'd take it a bit further, but she would never make you do anything you didn't want to.

However during the events of Foyet you were in witness protection and dropped the competitions completely, only playing small duets with your mother. It was after Foyet had targeted your family, where you lost Haley, your one supporter, your accompanist, your friend, and most importantly, your mother.

bang bang bang

When those shots were fired you wished. Wished that your father had gotten here early. Or maybe your mother took the gun and shot him instead. Or perhaps that you had been shot instead. Instead of being dragged by Foyet. Instead of his knife greeting you. Instead of the stairs you were thrown against, the glass shards that had entered your palms. Right when he had finally finished tossing you around, he was about to step on your hands, the one thing a musician would care about most, your father broke the door and the fight commenced.

You grimaced at the memory, while you pulled out your brown case. Opening it you were greeted with the slight smell of pine.

"Hey kiddo how's practice going?" Your mom stood by your room frame.

"I'm almost done with the piece! I've been thinking if we could do this one together." You pulled out a sheet, ' Liebesleid (Love's sorrow)- Fritz Kreisler' "Love's sorrow? Why do you wanna play that piece?"

"Cause you used to play it a lot when I was tiny, and this time we can play it together!" You giggled while Haley sighed happily.

"Alright, I'll get ready, don't fall behind now." She walked to the common room, where the piano sat. You ran after her, violin in hand, along with a wide grin.

As she sat down, you stood by the open window, a small breeze flowing through. "Remember, when you play, don't feel forced to follow the tempo. Music is to express yourself, I only hope you don't force yourself to play, my love." She gave a smile before starting to play, you playing right after. In the original piece, both instruments begin at the same time, however there was this small pause when your mother started where you managed to catch her soft smile. It was the only time you got to see her properly before you focused on your playing.

'I just hope that with this, you'll get used to sorrow.' Haley thought sadly.

You sighed as you picked up the instrument and bow, slowly placing it on the desk before closing the case. This competition wasn't supposed to be as big as those you've attended before, but at the sight of your name a few people were interested in seeing your reappearance, and your music.

You walked out, heading for the recording room, where you watched the current person on stage play. They seemed nervous and they were off tempo, it seemed that the accompanist was trying to let the violin shine.

"(Y/n) Hotchner? Right after this person you're up." A worker announced, as everyone's head perked at the last name. "Hotchner? They came back!"

You nodded at the worker before turning back to the multiple screens. Even though there were multiple people attending, you weren't able to spot your father, maybe the camera couldn't reach his seating.

The person on screen ended their playing, a few scattered applauses could be heard. They sheepishly bowed before quickly running backstage where their accompanist followed.

"It's your turn Hotchner, be there in 3." You heard the worker as you turned to walk on stage. Once you felt like you were ready you walked through the curtain and onto the stage, your accompanist following behind you.

You finally stopped walking, faced the audience and held your violin in its rightful position.

"Oh wow it's really them! I thought they dropped music completely!"

"I bet they're going to take this competition just like others, did you hear there's judges here!? This is a lifetime opportunity."

"Let's just enjoy the show, I've missed their music so much!"

You closed your eyes, and took a deep breath.

"Elohim, Essaim... Elohim, Essaim I implore you."

You struck 2 chords before starting the actual piece, Introduction et Tarantelle Op. 43

A minute into your playing you could hear the people murmuring.

"This is their playing? It's so plain, its like it's lost its spark."

"I expected the song to stand out, if they continue like this it's going to be just like everyone else's, painfully average."

'Their words don't matter. I don't care what anyone else says,' You brought your gaze on the audience, slowly looking for a certain spot. Seat 20! And just as you found said location, [video stamp 2:04] you slowed down your tempo, as if you were going to stop playing mid song.

Of course, it was empty

You felt your vision cloud and you repeatedly blinked, desperately trying to stop them from falling.

"(Y/n), kiddo, you know you don't have to do this." Your mother had a sympathetic look as she crouched to your height. "You're free to tell me you're not ready you know, it's brave to go on stage, but it's also brave to say you're scared."

You shook your head, "Nuh-uh! I've been practicing all this time. This is my first as an orchestral solist!! We've practiced and I'm ready, I promise mama!"

At age 9 you were already behind stage, waiting to play the assigned piece, Winter (L'lnverno) Op. 8 No. 4 F minor: Allegro Non Molto

You could say people envied you, being a young kid, and already being able to lead an orchestra. It was all fair, you managed to get into various competitions in such a short time because you practically devoted your whole freetime to practicing the violin.

Of course you enjoyed school, but not as much as the violin. You strive to get better, not only because of your enjoyment, but because you felt like you could connect better with your mother.

"Alright, remember, you're going to kill it kiddo. Enjoy yourself and play the way you want to be known as, not like a machine." She left a small kiss on your forehead as you turned around and went on stage happily.

Your felt the grip on your bow loosen and you immediately regained your composure. Whether it was the people's ill words or your bottled up emotions you took a deep breath and immediately sped up the tempo, catching the pianist off guard. [Time stamp 2:22]

"There it is!"

"Their playing is back!"

"They are gonna do it again, she's going to make this composition belong to them and them only."

"This is what I've been waiting for, the clash of an accompanist and a violinist."

You heard the audience cheer but you only shut them off. You glanced back at the accompanist, who only held a confused gaze, but at the sight of your smirk, they immediately regained their posture and chased after you.

So what.

So what if he's not here, you don't care.

You felt the tears fall and closed your eyes, your tempo neither increasing nor decreasing.

You never needed him, only her!

As your turn came to the end you finished the last note and strummed the violin, dramatically holding your bow in the air, panting out of breath. There was only a slight pause before the audience erupted into applause.

"WOOOOOOOO"

"THEY'RE BACK! THE (Y/N) HOTCHNER IS BACK"

"WE MISSED YOU!"

"YOU'RE AMAZING!!"

You were still out of breath when you put your bow down to your side before walking forward, bowing your head and walked to the exit.

"I've found the one."

Once you were out of the audience view you managed to place your violin on the bench but dropped your bow and fell to your knees, workers and competitors approaching you.

They all swarmed you but you only let out a happy sigh and laughed. The thrill came back and they all applauded you. You stood up, ignored your knees shaking and walked back towards the dressing room, placing your violin away and walking out of the backstage.

You sat down on a bench, watching everyone else. The other competitors were waiting for their results, just like you. Except they were waiting with their family, or friends.

You moved your gaze towards the floor, you didn't change out of the outfit you were because you had hope, hope that he would atleast be waiting.

You saw a figure loom over you and when you looked up you were shocked to see who.

"Spence?"

"Hey (y/n)! Glad I managed to find you, there's so many competitors I thought it would take me forever-"

"What are you doing here?" You cut off his rant, you weren't annoyed, rather you were happy to see him.

"Well I came here to cheer on my favorite musician, why else would I be here?" He waved a little flag that had, "go (y/n)" written on it.

"I'm honored! They're about to come out with the results, will you stay?" You stood up and hugged him, which he returned.

"Of course! I'm here to support you. A-and I also took a few notes of the piece you were playing. Did you know that-"

A swarm of people crowded the wall where a worker was setting up a paper, you beckoned Spencer to follow you. You walked up and pushed your way through, you could hear some sighs, some cries and even some celebration.

"(Y/n)......."

The letters to the right immediately lit your face.

"Mom-"

You turned back to meet Spencer, his eyes widening and your smile slowly faded.

"Spencer, I did it, I won first!" You declared with less excitement.

"That's insane! You definitely worked for it kiddo, get over here!" You walked towards him as he held you into a hug, surprisingly.

You smiled as you started to walk back to the bench you were originally sitting on. You grabbed your violin case and bag, debating whether or not to tell your dad the news.

Just as the both of you walked out the building you heard a small cough from behind you.

"Uncle Rossi!" You smiled brightly.

"How was my little niece! I saw you kick butt up on that stage!" He held you in a fatherly hug, one you needed. If you were to choose who to run to, Rossi would be the number one person. At the loss of your mother he was the one you'd turn to, as you didn't want to bother your dad, who was now a single father of two.

"U-um excuse me!" You felt a small finger tap on your back and you turned around, looking down at the small kid, who turned back to their, mother, who smiled at them.

"I-i just wanted to hand you these f-flowers! Y-your music was really a-amazing!" You took the bouquet of gladiolus from the kid's hands. You kneeled down and smiled softly, "thank you, they're very pretty." The kid quickly said welcome and ran back to their mother, who picked them up and told them they did great.

If that kid got a parent's recognition that easily, how come your father hasn't seen you yet.

"Looks like that kid beat me to it," Rossi handed you a (quite) larger bouquet of flowers, dahlias and camellias. You smiled, slightly struggling to carry all the items you held, but you were nevertheless happy.

"Did you know that kid (y/n)?" Spencer came up to you, grabbing onto your bag, you thanked him and shook your head. "I don't think so. I wonder why they gave it to me."

"Truth be told, I saw them in the beginning and they didn't have those flowers." You gave him a confused look, "What does that mean?"

He smiled and ruffled your hair slightly, "They probably ran to the closest place they could buy flowers after the show ended, all just for you."

You blinked, still confused but grateful, that atleast some people could enjoy your music.

"So how about dinner at mines?" Rossi offered.

"Are you sure? I think I'd have to ask my dad first-"

"Nonsense! You're basically my relative, if anything I'll just stick up for you."

"Oh then, I'd be honored." You lit up. It hadn't been long since you had dinner at Rossi's place, not that you minded, the food was always amazing.

"Great, it'd be a shame to waste all the food that was prepared already." He let out a small sigh, as he opened the door to the car. You walked in and he closed it, Spencer running to the other side to sit next to you.

________________

Once you arrived at the Rossi household mansion, you walked in and was greeted with a few confetti poppers. You jumped slightly, relaxing when you saw the rest of the bau team there, smiling.

"W-what are you guys doing here?" You smiled, for the nth time this day.

"We're here to celebrate, obviously, come on kiddo use that smart head of yours!" You heard a chuckle as a muscular arm draped over you.

"A little bird told us today was your competition and we watched it, you killed it by the way, and then ran over here to surprise you!" JJ sent a small smile at your way. You saw her as a mother figure, she definitely played a big role in getting over your slump.

Immediately a pink blur ran at you and you were held into a tight hug, which you recognized was Garcia.

"Oh my sweet bundle of joy you were amazing out there!" She pecked small kisses over your face, "I held back too much already you were just- words can't describe what I felt during your performance!" She hugged you tighter, if that was even possible.

"Alright baby girl, you're gonna kill her if you continue hugging her." You felt the hug fade away, while you enjoyed her hugs, they could be intense at times.

"I'm thankful for the support, and the surprise!" You thanked everyone, Rossi finally entering his place, with bouquets in one arm and your violin case in the other.

"Now for the best part, Rossi's cooking" Another voice rung through your head.

"Prenti- Emily." You entered into another hug, and you returned it. She backed away and took your hand leading you into the backyard, where a wonderful aroma hit your nose.

Multiple dishes, mainly Italian, sat nicely on the table, a few decorations adored the room, they were probably up by Garcia.

You sat in the middle of a side on the table, patiently waiting for everyone to sit down so you all could eat at the same time. When everyone was eating you sat still, your gaze looking over everyone who was either engaging into small talk or simply eating silently.

You felt the same emotion from the morning rise up, again you held it down, and started eating. Was it the nice atmosphere? Or maybe it was the small talk. No it was probably your imagination, right?

Why did this feel like a normal family dinner.

You finished eating what you could, got seconds if you wanted, and you thanked Rossi for the food, immediately running to the bathroom to wash your hands and ran back to the living room. Everyone looked confused when you came back in, a familiar case in hand.

You were still in your suit so better now than later right?

You stood by the glass doors that connected the backyard to the kitchen, a few small bulbs lighting up your small stage. You unzipped your case, pulling out your familiar instrument.

Rossi, who also had finished his food, stood by the piano, that seemed to almost be outside in a coincidence.

"During dinner, if it's okay, I would like to play a piece." You whispered the rest of your plan in Rossi's ear, who nodded along. He knew how to play the piano, not full protégé but he could follow the music sheet.

You looked at him, who nodded, as you held your instrument in a ready position.

"Elohim, Essaim... Elohim, Essaim I implore you."

You started to play, Rossi following after you.

Nocturne Op.9 No.2

You saw their faces light up at the source of the playing. The atmosphere seemed more cozy and they talked softer, as to enjoy the piece fully.

Your Uncle Rossi was able to keep up, and you didn't do anything out of the norm to keep the nice tone, maybe it was out of your style, but you also enjoyed playing what the composition was intended to sound like.

As the piece ended, you slowly bowed, and the table cheered, especially Garcia, who grabbed Spencer's hand that held the small flag and waved it around vigorously causing him to let out small protests.

You put your violin back in its case and you felt strong arms lift you up in the air, the moonlight shining brightly on the backyard, illuminating the flowers and the gazebo.

"I'm so proud of you kiddo!" Morgan smiled, and swung you around in the air, the cool breeze hitting you.

It was definitely the atmosphere, right?

You can't keep it down anymore.

A small tear rolled down, then another, and before you knew it you were clinging onto Morgan like no tomorrow, sobs echoing through the yard. The team immediately ran by your side, checking if you were injured, but you kept your grasp tight on Morgan, afraid of letting you.

"You're afraid aren't you?"

You looked at Prentiss with a confused gaze, it wasn't too much after your mother's death when she asked you this.

"Afriad of what?"

"Afraid of deep relationships. I know you don't like being profiled but you've tried to stop calling us by our first name. You've closed yourself off and I understand that but-"

"I'm not scared!" You immediately defended yourself, maybe hanging around profilers did have cons, you couldn't hide anything from them.

"I just ask that you try to keep with the first name basis, at least with me. Spencer already knows, I think it'd be easier to try with him too." She held your hand softly but you immediately recoiled from the touch.

"I'm not scared..."

"I know our jobs aren't the safest but, promise me you'll try?" She stood up, awkwardly cleared her throat and walked away, leaving you in shock.

"I'm scared." You sobbed out. You matured way too early, and your own father didn't notice much of it, in fact maybe he was relieved that you did. You didn't require much attention like Jack. Even then you were scared, of losing your father, or even the bau team.

After a few minutes of letting your bottled emotions out, you fell asleep, Morgan carrying you into a spare room in Rossi's house. Emily had briefed the team what you were dealing with an everyone felt sympathy, it was only a bit after 11 p.m when Hotch entered the yard, slightly out of breath, his hair messy, tie all crooked and a shocked expression, rarely ever seen.

"I got a call that, (y/n) is here." He fixed his tie and looked around the yard, just like he would search an unsub's area. His chest rose and fell quickly, lightly panting as he regained control of his breathing. He continued to walk, making sure to scan the area, trying to find something, anything that would alert him that his child was here.

"Yeah, the kids here." Rossi assured the disheveled man in front of him before crossing his arms and raising his eyebrow. "The real question is where were you?" He speaks in a stern tone, it's almost funny how he's the one acting like a father.

Hotch stares at the older man in disbelief. Why is he being questioned? He's the father looking for his child, can't they just tell him where they are? Hotch breaks from the eye contact, sighing as he runs his hand through his messy hair, removing the strands that fell in front of his face. He sighs once more, knowing he wouldn't win this without answering.

"I was with Beth, we had a date planned. Now where is my child." His voice was cold, but a small amount of panic laced his words. The team around him could only sigh, some seemed almost disappointed. Emily and Spencer sent each other confused looks, both communicating with their eyes.

"What, is it wrong to want to spend time with my partner when there isn't any work?" Hotch asked, almost offended. He too had a life outside of the BAU. Normally he was asked to take a break and now they want him to stay focused?

Rossi could only chuckle while the rest of the team looked at him. Spencer seemed to speak up, "Listen Hotch, we don't mind you spending time with Beth, we're all happy you finally are leaving the shell of yours." His tone seemed to become angrier.

"But when your child, (y/n), is having a competition, and goes out their way to also leave their shell, I expect you to be the first person there, not Morgan, Emily, everyone on this team." His words were laced like poison, and Hotch could feel it crawl through his veins and into his heart. His heart that suddenly felt a sharp jab at it.

"Do you know how much (y/n) stayed quiet about?!" Spencer continued. It was quite rare to see him so agitated. "Hey pretty boy maybe you should-"

"No. He needs to know Morgan!" He cuts off Spencer. "He needs to know how much (y/n) cried, how much they hid that their father never looked their way anymore!" He seemed quite affected by this, his own relationship with his father was also like this at one point. Then he just left.

"(Y/n) has been trying, struggling! They've tried to move on to no avail. Yes they've made a big step in attending a competition, something they quit. It would have meant a lot more to them to see their father there with them! They CRIED while YOU were having an AMAZING time with Beth."

It was quiet. Too quiet. The team stayed silent, the youngest in the team had just yelled at their boss but deep down they all were supportive of his words.

"Do you know their favorite food? Their favorite songs? How about their favorite color, their favorite book? What about their grades? Did you know they had over 6 panic attacks and was sent to the nurse at some point. Did you know that they always woke up after them, asking for their father?!"

Hotch stood there, like a deer in headlights, staring at Spencer as he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. How could he have forgotten? The few times you did speak was about the competition. Hell you even asked if you could take Jack that day but he refused, thinking you were just going to keep him home and Jack needed exposure to other people, even if it just was a babysitter.

"Sometimes, you act like (y/n) doesn't exist, and it shows."

Spencer sighed once more before walking , "I hope this is your wake up call, Hotchner." He bumped into Hotch on the way to the house, most likely on purpose as he went upstairs, most likely to go to your room to check up on you.

Hotch stares in front of him, dazed, in disbelief. Had he really not realized how much time had passed? He assumed you distanced yourself because you were growing up. He was quite happy, seeing that you didn't need as much attention as Jack but was he actually hurting you by allowing you freedom? He feels his throat swell as he clears it, slowly looking up at Rossi.

"Have I really been such a bad father? I-I thought I was helping them by giving them space. Have I actually been harming them?" How he hoped that the older man would dispute, telling him no, that he tried his best, but Rossi simply nodded

Had he really been that absent from your life?

"Nothing is so common as the wish to be remarkable." -William Shakespeare

a/n: First time actually finishing a post wooo. Any feedback would be appreciated. I do take requests, just not very speedy at doing them. I'll work on a abt me post and stuff. Hope you enjoyed, feel free to support me if you do it would mean a lot<3

#Criminal minds #Criminal minds fanfic #Jennifer Jareau #JJ #Emily Prentiss #Spencer Reid #Derek Morgan #Penelope Garcia #Aaron Hotchner #Hotch x child!reader #xchild!reader #Daddy Issues lol #Platonic #No fluff only angst #Live laugh love angst #angst??#live laugh love angst #Idk how tags work

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gorgeous-pearl · 4 months

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*Throws failed experiment! Rocky at you*

@fluffyr0cky enjoy hehe!! >:3

I love angst hehehe >:3

Context: Failed! Rocky was Mad Scientist! Basil first attempt at bringing back Rocky, they were so obsessed with Basil that they tried to be like og Rocky!

Which didn't go well...

#Sona lore #rocky angst #wowzers #*explodes*#fairy speaks #someone gotta put me in a void #why are we like this #live laugh love angst

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aimixx · 1 year

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if anyone who saw ditto mv you should have an idea about what im doing in the fic

#—traveler stories #genshin impact #alhaitham genshin impact #i have no regrets at all #live laugh love angst

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bangzhasanxiety · 2 months

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Me: i read angst like it’s a sport, my lifeline, mcd is one of my fav tag, I love the hurt, I love the tears I love it all

Also me: *exclusively writes fluff and ridiculous romcoms*

#fanfiction #fanfic #who even am i #live laugh love angst #lee writes #it’s when everything is blurry and I can’t actually read #because I’m crying #but then all I write is people falling in love #in the most romcoms ways ever

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eskiinox · 4 months

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SILLY DRAGONS!!!!!!!!!!!!

#THE FIRST ONE IS PUDDLE #AND THE SECOND GUY IS SUNSTONE!!!#i love them so much #Nothing Bad Happens To Them Ever #tahsts a lie they actaully experinece so much angst #wof #wof oc #wings of fire #wings of fire oc #LIVE LAUGH PUDDLE #eskiart

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greenteabelle · 6 months

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thinking about how philza's character in every universe (or server lol) never really gets their happy ending .

hc!philza is destined to roam his world forever alone , with only remnants of history left to accompany him . so what if he continues to find structures and hints of what once was ? he's missed the opportunity to experience all the mythical stories he can only glean from pieces of rubble . he's alone , and he always will be .

dsmp!philza was forced to kill his son as soon as he finally found him after radio silence . and even when he returns as a phantom , he never really manages to bridge that deep chasm in their relationship . the one true friend that he could always rely on , whether as they ruled the entire world together or simply spent their days secluded in the snowy mountains , couldn't make it to the end . two immortal gods , finding solace in each other's loneliness only for one to be left alone again at the very end .

osmp!philza was left with nothing but empty promises as his friends left the safe haven he built with them one by one . he reunites with them a few times in the future , sure , but he can never really reminisce about their times together without leaving a bad taste in his mouth . even at the very end , he can't find the one friend who spared him those lonely times , always just a universe behind his little fella .

30days!philza died with his back turned to the one he trusted the most . despite all his years of experience teaching him to never let his guard down , he does . because he trusts wilbur . and so the last thing he sees as he's pushed off the ledge is the wide-eyed mortification in wilbur's eyes . and it's bittersweet , to know that he would exchange his own life if it meant that his could be returned . but the damage is done , and the ending is bittersweet .

and now , q!philza .

burdened with the task of caring for an egg with a partner he barely knew , he did the one thing he never thought he would do : play it safe . with the threat of the federation , the monstrous creatures that roam the island and the code that seemed hellbent on killing them , he played as an innocent bystander in every major event . because when you've lived a life as long as philza's , you know the worst that the world has to offer , and he so desperately wants to shield his child's innocence . despite the knowledge that chayanne may never remember their time together when he hatches , that the fabled dragon may simply devour him once it finds chayanne in his possession , he protects chayanne .

how could he not , when chayanne is the one he can finally protect for once ?

then he's ripped right out of his clutches once again , along with tallulah whom he's grown unavoidably fond of ( because it's wilbur's daughter , what other outcome could he truly expect ? ) , powerless to do anything . in his desperation to be reunited with his children once more , he ignores every single alarm bell that rings as he makes his way to the birdhouse .

even as he's freed , he's haunted by birds that seem to follow him wherever he goes , as though someone is always watching and reminding him of the consequences of rebelling .

purgatory ?

the name explains itself quite aptly , i believe .

so i guess the whole point of this post is just to appreciate that no matter the tragedy that constantly surrounds philza's characters in every universe he's in , he still keeps going forward .

#philza #philza minecraft #hardcore season 4 #dream smp #dsmp #origins smp #osmp #30 days smp #quackity smp #qsmp #idk how long i'll be able to keep up these angsty posts #but i'll continue to live laugh love in the angst that phil provides ig

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angebluee · 2 months

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!CW: mild blood !

Some older Wolfwood art

Edit: i forgot to add a warning

This is based off like chapter 1 or 2 of the infamous volume 10 of Trimax lmao.

But yuhhh I made it tristamp ww version

Also happy Wolfwood Wednesday

#nicholas d wolfwood #live laugh love Wolfwood #wolfwood wednesday #nicholas d. wolfwood #tristamp wolfwood #how does tumblr work #trigun #manga #anime and manga #digital art #fanart #trigun maximum #angst?#trigun spoilers

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hyperfixiation-station · 6 months

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Lighter

Summary: You and Ghost are on a mission and you take a bullet for him. With evac too far out and next to 0 medical supplies, the only way to keep you alive is to cauterize the wound.

TW: Blood, graphic depictions of injuries, angst

Part 2

Part 3

You had been shot, the bullet lodging itself in your hip, just barely nicking your artery. You were headed back to the extraction point, mission completed, when something rammed into your left hip, sending you stumbling back. The white-hot pain came a second later.

Ghost dragged you to cover, cursing your stupidity the whole way. He tore your shirt off, using one hand to stem the bleeding while the other fumbled with the med kit. Now, you were propped up against a wall, pale and shaking as Ghost labored in vain to stop the bleeding, pressing gauze into the wound, then replacing it ten seconds later in a never-ending cycle.

"I don't think gauze is going to stop the bleeding." You wheeze, breath ragged. Your eyes flick to the growing pile of red-soaked cloth, then to your blood-slicked skin, then to Ghost’s masked face.

"No... No, it won't. But it buys us time." Ghost murmurs as he applies more pressure. One hand comes up to his shoulder and he clicks the radio.

"We need a medevac to our location. ASAP." You shake your head, knowing that they won’t get to you before you bleed out. Your eyes flick down to your belt, where a lighter sits, and you get a terrible, horrible, possibly-only-option idea.

"I have...a lighter..." You rasp out before you can change your mind.

"You want to cauterize it?!" Ghost asks you incredulously. "You’re fuckin’ insane."

"It's better...than bleeding...to death" You gasp, eyes fluttering.

Ghost hesitates, the thought of causing you such intense pain making him wince. "You're right... but, bloody hell…I can't do it. I can't hurt you."

"Do...you want...me to die?" You wheeze, smiling weakly at him.

"No... No, I..." Ghost bites his lip and closes his eyes, visibly trying to find the strength to do this. He gently pulls your jacket off, folding and tying it around your mouth, shoving the cloth in between your teeth so you don’t bite your tongue off.

He hesitantly pulls the lighter from your pocket, flicking it on. He straddles you, holding you in place with his thighs as he brings the flame to your wound.

“You ready?" he asks softly. You nod shakily, and Ghost hesitantly lights the flame. As he brings the lighter closer, the heat sears your skin. You scream against the gag and try to escape the source of pain, body involuntary jerking away from it. Your skin and blood bubbles, quickly sealing the wound shut.

Your body seizes, your screams muffled by the gag. Ghost lets go of the lighter, certain that the bleeding has stopped, but he doesn’t get off of you. He holds you in place as your body jerks involuntarily, wiping tears from your cheeks.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers, "I'm sorry...I’m so sorry." Ghost winces and places his hands over the burn, trying to apply pressure and dull the pain as much as he can. He brushes your hair from your face, frowning at how clammy and pale your skin is. He places his fingers against your neck, feeling for your pulse. Your breath comes in ragged, rapid gasps, and your pulse is quick and thready.

He finally gets off, his hands deftly tape gauze over the burn, protecting it from the elements.

You let out a ragged sob, curling up around your injury, pain radiating through your body. A weight is placed over your body and distantly you recognize that Ghost put his jacket over you. You float away, the only tether to your body being his hand on your shoulder. I don't think seeing my own body is a good thing you think, but it's a passing thought, not concerning you. From above, you watch him tap your cheek, trying to get you to wake up. But you just stare at him with unfocused eyes, trembling.

“C’mon Y/N.” He says, gently tapping your face. He looks at your unresponsive form worriedly.

"Fuck." He moves your body, positioning it so that your legs are slightly elevated, resting on his lap.

“Soap,” He calls into the radio, “You’ll have to come to us. She’s gone into shock.”

"Fuck. Alright, we’re three minutes out, Lt." His voice is distorted and staticky, “we’re going as fast as we can.”

Ghost nods, though Soap can’t see him. He looks at your pale, ashen face and prays to a god he doesn't believe in that you’ll make it to tomorrow.

The next three minutes pass agonizingly slow. Every time your breath hitches he fears it's your last. His heart hurts at the pain etched on your unconscious face, and he rests his hand on your thigh, hoping to provide some comfort.

The sound of an approaching helicopter grows louder, and Ghost’s could almost cry in relief.

Dust and debris blow around as the helicopter hovers, ropes dropping down from above. A medic drops down, followed by Soap, and they help Ghost load you onto a stretcher, securing you and letting you be pulled up before following.

“Hang in there Little Bird.” Soap says, placing an oxygen mask over your face. The medic tucks a shock blanket around you and takes your blood pressure, unable to do much else with limited supplies.

“You alright Lt?” He asks Ghost, checking over to make sure he isn’t injured either.

“Fine.” He snaps, pausing to take a deep breath before continuing in a softer tone, “They took the bullet for me.” Soap nods in understanding, looking at your limp form before looking back to Ghost.

“They’ll be okay.” He pauses as the helicopter hits turbulence, steadying your stretcher with his hand, “They’re one of the toughest people I know.”

Your eyes flutter open several minutes later, vision hazy, ears ringing, and head spinning. There’s people talking to you, at least, you think there are, but the voices are quiet and distorted. The last thing you see before being pulled back under is Ghost, standing above you.

Ghost sits in the waiting room, still dressed in his blood-soaked clothes. He sits in the hard plastic chair, not moving an inch for the entire 4 hours the doctors have you in surgery.

Soap and Price sit with him in silence for the first couple of hours, but are called away before you get out of surgery. Ghost doesn't even acknowledge them as they leave, eyes fixated on the OR doors had been rushed through.

The second the door to the OR swings open Ghost is up, towering over the surgeon who came out to deliver the news.

"How are they?" He asks harshly.

"They, um, lost 1.2 liters of, um, blood, and their, um, left hip bone was, um shattered. A bone fragment, um, broke off and ripped through some important bits, causing some, um, internal bleeding. They are, um, stable now, but they did, um, flatline 3, um, 3 times on the table." The nurse stutters out.

"Are they awake?"

"Um, no sir, um they are, um, in a coma, we're not, um, we don't know when, um, when they are, um, going to wake up, um, of they, um, wake up." The nurse, who couldn't be older than 20 says timidly, "if they can, um, make it through the, um, night then we-we believe they'll pull through."

"Can I see them?" Ghost asks, voice marginally softer.

He's led to a bed in the ICU, where you lay pale and lifeless. There's a tube down your throat, tubes in your arms, and wires crisscrossing everywhere. He sits down, tentatively grabbing your limp hand, careful to avoid pulling your IV out.

His eyes unfocus as he stares at your limp form, your blood-curdling screams echoing in his ears. The guilt he feels at the fact that you got shot protecting him, that he caused you pain, makes him physically sick. He didn't deserve to be saved, and he definitely didn't deserve to be sitting in your room, holding your hand.

The atmosphere of the ICU did not help with Ghost's silent existential crisis. The constant beeping, the lighting, the moans and groans, the ever-constant presence of the nurse were all succeeding in putting his nerves even more on edge.

He tenses as the monitor by your bed starts beeping wildly, lights flashing. Medics rush in, shoving Ghost to this side as they check your body.

"-pressure is dropping!"

"-oxygen to their-"

"-failing. Need to-"

"-already had one!"

A nurse grabs Ghost by the arm, marching him out of the ICU and pushing him into a chair in the hallway.

"You just wait right here, sugar. I'm gonna go get you a glass o' water while they try to save your sweetheart, okay?" She says gently.

His hands shake, barely, as he takes the cup, his eyes trained on the window of the ICU, through which he can see multiple medical professionals surrounding you.

Please, he begs silently, I need to apologize. Please hold on for me. He knows it is selfish and he feels disgusting for even thinking it, but he doesn't know what he'd do if he never got to tell how sorry he was he hurt you. Please.

Pt.2?

#cod x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #cod fanfic #angst #writing #live laugh love angst #no beta we die like men

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