#please mind the warnings!!!!
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what love could get this vicious?
i'm only like 2 hours late technically? whoopsie daisy! here's day 4 of yuri week! obligatory @mcyt-yuri-week, please enjoy this (or not, its not everyones thing)! check it out on ao3 as well!
fandom: life series smp characters: ldshadowlady, zombiecleo, mentioned bigb+ others ship: ldshadowlady/zombiecleo additional tags: major character death, graphic depictions of violence, alternate universe - superheroes/superpowers, superhero ldshadowlady, villain zombiecleo, emotional manipulation, manipulation, manipulative relationship, unhealthy relationships, unrequited love, murder, revenge, grief/mourning, mental instability, brutal murder, theyre both fucked up in this one!, drabble, mcyt yuri week, toxic ass fuckign yuri (affectionate), soemthing something revenge something something two graves summary: a grief-stricken hero hunts an unrepentant villian — mcyt valentines yuri week day 4: grief/revenge
LDShadowlady, superhero extraordinaire, is, according to everything Cleo knows, usually quite a nice and polite hero. Sweet, bubbly, but capable of dealing with threats easily when needed.
Unfortunately, her friend BigB never seemed to have quite perfected that skill.
Probably why it was so easy to kill him, actually.
Look, Cleo is well aware that she’s a horrible person! It’s her whole thing! She’s a villain for a reason, people! Killing someone who betrayed her the way BigB did is really not that big of a deal. She has done domestic terrorism before, murdering one random hero is not her worst crime. Yet, it seems that it’s the one that LDShadowlady has fixated on. Or, rather, the one Lizzie has fixated on.
Maybe she’s just upset about Cleo’s whole ‘tricking you into finding me sympathetic, making you fall in love with me so hard that you start spying on other heroes for me and then murdering your best friend in front of you after I got what I needed’ thing. Actually, not gonna lie, that does sound like the most likely reason Lizzie is currently on a one woman hunt for Cleo’s head. Attached or otherwise. In Cleo’s defence, what kind of hero actually falls in love with a villain. Also, the little shit deserved it. Maybe if he didn’t leave her for dead, they wouldn’t have killed him.
Joe always tells her she’s very vindictive. He also often tells them it’s one of their best traits. So, realistically, this is fine. This is fine.
Okay, so maybe the whole ‘pretending to date her’ thing was a teeny bit mean, even for them. Especially when she did it to one of the top heroes in the country. Cleo is, to be honest, screwed. Completely and utterly screwed. Apparently grieving and vengeful superheroes don’t tend to be very delicate when it comes to dealing with threats like, let’s say, a villain ranked #5 most wanted in the country. A villain like Zombie.
Cleo is standing on the roof of an apartment building, a cool night time breeze blowing her hair back, the only sounds the distant cars far below. It rained earlier so everything’s wet and they’re left to stand. She’s pondering all her life decisions, trying to figure if it was worth it. Just as she’s deciding that yes, revenge was in fact worth them being hunted by a pissed off hero, she hears a faint splash of something stepping in a puddle behind her.
Spinning around, she’s greeted by pink hair and a tear stained face. Lizzie. Fantastic. Just wonderful! Everything is fine!
“You!” Lizzie snarls, “You bloody monster!”
“I mean, I think that’s very subjective.” Cleo says, desperately wishing they actually told her friends where they were going today.
“Oh my gosh, I-” She stops and smiles, something dangerous and just a little unhinged hiding in her expression, “You know what? I really want to see you die!”
She launches herself at Cleo, not even bothering to use her little flower power to attack, going in with her bare hands. They smile and dodge. Despite the lies, fighting with Lizzie always felt like a dance. This will be fun! As long as they don’t die, obviously.
Lizzie swings wildly at them, nailing a solid punch on her jaw. Her eyes are wide with prominent bags and she doesn’t seem to be wearing her comms or the legally required camera that all heroes should have. That’s not good. But it’s fine. It’s all fine.
“I can’t believe I trusted you! You lied to me and I trusted you! I-” Cleo backs up and Lizzie slips in pursuit, grabbing their leg on her way down and dragging them along, “I bloody loved you, do you get that?! How could you?”
Lizzie climbs on top of her, keeping them on the ground and murmurs “The worst part is that I still bloody do! Because I’m stupid. And you’re beautiful. And you knew exactly what to say every time. I can’t believe I fell for you, for all your stupid lies!”
Cleo finally struggles free and throws Lizzie off of her and takes several steps back, wishing they kept comms on them.
“When you- When I saw you k-kill him, it didn’t quite hit and my first thought was about blummin’ heck, it was about helping you cover it up! You charmed that bloody badly, trained me like a blummin’ dog!” She stands, her costume dirty and wet, hands shaking, and they take some more steps back, “Can you even imagine how much I loved you? How much I still do because you know, I told you, that I hate letting go of people? You bloody monster. Did you ever even care?”
“LDShado-”
“Don’t! You know my name. I know you do, Cleo. Don’t be shy now.”
“Fine. Lizzie, then. What I figure is, I figure you’re real mad right now and- Well. You have the right to be, okay? I messed up, is what I’m saying. But I promise th-” They just wanted to buy some time, spout some of that bullshit Lizzie loves and get out. Clearly they didn’t say the right thing, not this time. No charming their way out now.
“No! No, no, no!” She lurches forward and grabs Cleo by the shoulders. “Oh no, you don’t! If you won’t say anything important. Then- Oh my gosh, then I suppose I can just cut to the chase!”
Lizzie pushes, far harder than they’ve ever felt prior and they land on the ground. Hard. Lizzie flips in her in a smooth move and grabs the back of her hair. They struggle but she won’t let go and the realisation strikes that no, everything is not fine, and that they never said bye to Joe when she left earlier and she left Scott on read and Stress was meant to drop by tomorrow and-
They realise the last thing they’ll ever see is the dirty concrete. The last voice they’ll hear is someone’s who loved them far more than they even thought of her. Will her friends even know what happened? There was so fucking much Cleo wanted to do! They wanted to tear down all this corrupt bullshit and have fun doing it! But now-
“I’m gonna avenge BigB. And myself. And my bloody heart! All in one!”
Nothing will come of any of it now, will it?
Then Lizzie pulls their head back and slams it into the concrete. And then does it again. Again. Again. Again, again, again againagainagainagain-
When the authorities arrive all that is left is a woman wailing and the unrecognisable remains of someone she thought was her forever.
#mcytyuriweekvalentines#shadowrot#zombiecleo#ldshadowlady#trafficshipping#life series smp#trafficblr#andy rambles#please mind the warnings!!!!#toxic bitches i love them!!#sorry this is late lmao
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Where I'm from, Rehna means to stay.
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all y'all glorious bastards and bitches!!! Is this a Christmas fic? No, it ain't even a winter themed fic. Butttt, it's a fic I promise to write for @sri-rachaa that I finallyyy decided to finish! So, Rae Rae!!! Here's your surprise (even for me) Christmas fic, featuring your favourite headcanon (that's basically canon), your Lovely OC and my Darlin' OC.
[Thank you soooo much to @daveyistheloml for being my beta reader, and tagging @gingerbreadmonsters and @haradasaya to prove that yes, this is fluff. ;-; I am capable of fluff. ;-;]
CW: Fem! Darlin' and Lovely, both characters have names and use she/her pronous, canon divergent (this takes place in Rae's 'Southern Sibling' AU), Sam is still a freelancer, mentions of Quinn and what he did to Darlin' + Momma Collins talking about asshole Papa Collins, my Darlin' OC is a Toronto girl and for once, I am not ashamed of that
--
The lack of… anything in the countryside always left her unnerved.
Where are the buildings? The people? The random squirrel trying to cross the street? All there was for the eye to see was farmland, farmland and the occasional horse.
Maybe part of the reason she was uncomfortable was that there wasn’t anything to distract her from her thoughts. Back home in Toronto (despite living in Dahlia for a decade, she still thinks of Toronto as home), there were a million things to pay attention to.
The crowded streets and equally crowded sidewalks. The cars honking at each other. The trains running beneath her feet. The occasional crackhead that was spewing some wisdom to the people walking by. The guy hiding in the alleyway with something… whether it was a knife or gun, she wasn’t gonna stick around and watch.
Ah, the good old days.
The country didn’t have any of that. Unlike the dangerous city, there was nothing of note to focus on. And the fact she couldn’t focus on anything made her brain go haywire.
In her mind, there was nothing in this world that could make her give up her city ways and live in the middle of nowhere.
“You doing alright, darlin’?”
Or maybe there was someone who could.
Zohniyya looked over to the freelancer driving. She shook her head and said, “nah, I’m good, handsome.” Her gaze returned to the vast nothingness outside. She strained her ears to find signs of life, but all she could hear was the heartbeat of the man next to her.
That ain’t a bad thing to listen to.
Just for tonight, she’ll keep quiet about how much silence bothered her. Sam finds the cornfields and the flat lands comforting, the sound of the wind rustling through the leaves was the sound of home.
But that wasn’t the only reason she was unnerved. She was meeting Sam’s mother for the first time. She is going to have to introduce herself, make a good impression and not fuck up everything like she usually does. It wasn’t like parents didn’t like her, aunties of her childhood adored the girl she was. Always perfectly in control of everything, whether it be of the children or of herself.
But that had been when she was the obedient, depleted girl. Now she was a little wiser, a little colder and knew that the opinions of others didn’t define who she was.
…But holy fucking shit, Zohniyya will drown in her own tears if Sam’s mother showed any kind of disapproval towards her.
She reached into her bag and fiddled with her concealer. Occasionally, she’d look up into her mirror and eye the scars on her face and neck with disgust. The ones he left behind.
‘Maybe I should hide the scars… maybe just the bites…?��
“Put the damn makeup away, Zohniyya.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m just saying Sam, the bite marks? I don’t want your momma to think I’m some sorta chew toy.” That comment caused her a sharp pinch on her thigh.
“You’re not a chew toy, let alone that leech’s,” he snarled. It was his default tone of voice whenever her last relationship was brought up. His knuckles were turning white from how tightly he was gripping the steering wheel.
She grabbed one of his hands, and placed a gentle kiss on it. It wasn’t much, but the simple kiss was enough to relax him, slightly. “I know, meri Chandh Raath. It’s just,” her voice trailed off and she turned back to look out the window. “I want your mom to like me, and the scars… ya know.”
Sam took the concealer from Zohniyya’s hand and chucked it to the back seat, ignoring the complaint from the wolf to be careful with the bottle. “Darlin’, my momma’s gonna love ya. You’re her perfect woman, and she’d kill me if I broke your heart.”
“Ok, but like, wouldn’t you be concerned if our kid brought home a partner with a shit tonna scars?”
“I’d be concerned about our child’s partner rather than judge them.”
Neither of them noticed that they’d said ‘our’ and not ‘your’.
She let out a soft laugh. “You’re such a stubborn piece of shit. Let me loathe in peace you southern bastard.”
“No can do, my darlin’ princess. I made a promise to make you happy, safe and loved. And that’s exactly what I plan on doing, so get that pretty head back onto earth.”
She groaned, “I am not a princess, Sam. We’ve talked about this.”
“Well sure as hell gorgeous like one, Zo.” He barked out a laugh when his darlin’ tried to hit him from her seated position. “There’s that smile of yours.”
“Shut the fuck up!” Despite the harsh words, she was smiling and blushing and feeling light and airy and giddy and she just wants to kiss him and oh God Sam is the best and-
“REHNA!!! She’d be terrified of the scars!!”
Sam scoffed. “Please, Missy likes the weirdest shit, and you are far from weird.” He pulls up to the quaint but beautiful house in the middle of farmland. He stopped them from opening her door, and quickly came to her side of the car, opening it for her.
“Thank you, gentleman.”
He held her hand and helped her out of the car, but before she could walk to the front door, he pulled her close to his chest and wrapped his arms around her. “I know you’re nervous, and I get that.” He rubs her back in a soothing manner. “But I promise you nothing bad is gonna happen in there, I won’t let it.” He kissed her hairline to seal the promise.
She smiled at the reassuring words and let out a deep breath. “Ok, handsome.” She pecked his lips and dragged him to the front door. Was her heart pounding so loudly that a human like Sam can hear? Were they three seconds away from shifting and running back to Dahlia?
‘Get your head in the fucking game! You’ve fought people way worse and you were a hockey player and figure skater. You so got this.’
Sam rang the doorbell and she heard someone rushing to the door.
‘Oh I so don’t got this, ami help!!!’
Sam placed both his hands on her shoulder to ground her. He didn’t have to be Avior or Gavin to feel the anxiety roll off her. “You are the Zohniyya Qadir. Toughest wolf from the north. And the only person crazy enough to call me your boyfriend.”
“Hey! If anything, you’re the crazy one for accepting me as your girlfriend!”
She tries to ignore the wolf within her, the one screaming at her to call Sam her mate.
Before Sam could rebuttal, the door opened and a golden blur bolted out the house towards Sam’s legs. “SAMMY’S HOME!” A young girl latched onto him with a death grip and nearly knocked over the healer.
Sam chuckled and patted the little lightning bolt on her back. “Hey there ducklin', happy to see me again?” He didn’t get a verbal response, only a sniffle and a nod. He gave a small smile and lifted her up to carry the little girl. “I know I am, ducklin'. Missed you so much and it’s good to hold you again.”
Little Rehna rested her head on his shoulder and clung onto his neck. “I don’t want you to leave again Sammy… Please don’t leave again…” She started tearing up and Zohniyya had to steel herself to stop herself from crying. She knew the pain of losing a sibling, and she would never wish that pain on anyone.
“Rennie, I’m never gonna leave ya. Sure, I’ll be leaving you once in a while, but I’ll always come back to you and momma, I promise.” He held out his pinky, waiting for Rehna to wrap her own smaller pinky around his. She does, sealing the promise and love between the two siblings.
‘Awww, this is kind of cute… Oh fuck, bitch, do not get baby fever now-’
“Now, I want you to meet someone. Darlin’, this here is my baby sister Rehna, but you’re free to call her Rennie.”
‘Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck, do not fuck this up Zo! Or you can start running, whichever works.’
Rehna turned her head to see the brunette and brown eyed shifter standing to the side. She watched as Rehna went wide eyed and her mouth fell open. The worst thoughts filled her brain. That his little sister didn’t approve of her. That she was right, the scars scared her and that the concealer was necessary.
That despite everything she tries to do, she’ll never be enough for Sam and his love.
“Are you a princess? You’re so pretty!”
Oh, so that wasn’t what she expected.
Zohniyya’s shocked expression dissipated when she saw the cocky smirk on her cowboy’s face. She opened her mouth to tell him to ‘fuck off’, but his eyes gestured to the child in the room. It wouldn’t be the worst thing if she swore, it wasn’t like the people around her when she was a child kept it PG.
Right, she had to make a good impression.
“Aww, I’m no princess, kid. I’m just Zohniyya.” She smiled at Rehna, hoping to appear less scary. Her scared and expressionless face tends to terrify people, and little Rehna was the last person she was trying to push away.
The young girl let out a loud and exaggerated gasp. “You’re Sam’s lady! He talks about you all the time! Is it true that you can turn into a wolf? Can you do it now? Please, please, I wanna see!” Sam barely held onto her with all the thrashing and moving she was doing in his arms.
“Alright missy, no need to blindside her like that. She can show you her wolf form if she chooses to, ok?” Despite the pout and puppy dog eyes on Rehna’s face, she nodded in understanding. He put her down onto the ground and continued. “Run along ducklin’. Why don’t you head inside and tell ma we’re here.” Rehna yelled out an “okay” and ran into the house, leaving the wolf and her freelancer outside.
Sam pulled Zohniyya in by her shoulders and rested her head on his chest. “See? Now was that so bad? I told you everything will be ok.” He kissed her forehead and smiled reassuringly.
She let out a shaky breath and whispered, “yea, it wasn’t bad.” She did what she always did when she was overwhelmed and buried herself in his chest. The warmth in her chest brought forth by his heartbeat and scent was enough to bring her down from her spiral. “I’m still worried about your mom.”
He chuckled, “don’t you be worried about ma. She’s been waitin’ to meet you since I told her about us.” Sam gently moved Zohniyya’s head from his chest, needing to look into her eyes. It was his way of telling her that everything will be ok. He kissed her on her lips, wanting to see and adoring the smile that came soon after. “Let’s get inside before the heat knocks ya out, you winter wolf.”
She gasped in offence and punched his shoulder, resting her hand there. “I ain’t ever gonna tell you my southern adventures ever again if you keep teasin’ me about that shit.” Her hand slowly trails down the length of his arms, holding his elbow. “Shall we head inside?”
The southern freelancer pulled her close and straightened his back. “We shall head inside,” he said, and the two walked inside Sam’s childhood home.
The first thing they noticed was the plethora of photos on the wall. Some were as recent as a few months ago. Others were as old as the ranch house. She assumed that every picture was of the Collins family. Sam had mentioned that the Oklahoma ranch and land had belonged to his family for generations, it only makes sense for so many memories to be captured in this space.
It also felt like the old generations of the Collins family were judging her.
“City Scum.”
“Whore.”
“Vampire fuckthing.”
‘No no, do not let those thoughts mess with you now. You’re about to fucking rock this shit and Sam’s mom is gonna love you… Just… don’t fuck it up.’
“See, I knew I was right callin’ you princess.” His smug smile brought her back to reality, if only to want to smack the cocky grin off his face.
“Meri pyaari, meri dunya aur meri akhirah. I love you deeply. But I swear if you don’t knock this shit off, I will smack the shit out of you.” The threat didn’t have its usual heat because of her beaming smile. He didn’t need to know that he’d be the only one who can call her princess.
The couple stepped foot into the living room, where an old woman was fussing over the throw pillows on the couch. She turned to the sound of footsteps and cried out, “dear Lord, you made it!” She launched herself at Sam and pulled him into a tight hug. “Are you ok? How was the drive in? Are ya hungry? Thirsty?” Her lips couldn’t hold back the flood of questions that poured out of her.
The only thing that stopped her borderline interrogation was Zohniyya shyly standing behind Sam. The Collins’ mother shoved her son out of her way to approach the wolf. “Oh where are my manners, my name’s Delilah, Sam’s mother. And yours darlin’?”
“My name’s Zohniyya, ma’am and it’s an honour to meet you. Sam has told me incredible things about you.” She tried to keep her city accent from dripping on her words, something she knew Sam noticed, judging by his quirked eyebrow aimed at her.
Delilah laughed and wrapped her arm around Zohniyya’s shoulders. “No need to be so formal with sugar! Call me DeDe, that’s what all my friends call me.”
Her bright smile made the white wolf relax. “Well in that case, you can call me Zozo, it’s been my nickname for a long a- long time.”
‘Ok, ok this is good! We’re exchanging nicknames, so that means she must somewhat like me.’
Delilah pinched the wolf’s cheeks. “Aww, aren’t you a beautiful precious thing. Sam’s told me a ton about you as well but I wanna hear it from you! Where ya from?” Delilah turned her back to the couple and went back to organizing her living room.
Before Zohniyya could open her mouth and give an answer that bends the truth of her city status, Sam shot her a look that screamed one thing.
“Don’t you dare hide anything about yourself darlin’. All of you is wonderful and I want my mom to understand that.”
She sighed. “I was born in Toronto, but I moved to Dahlia when I was 16. It’s where I live now and I’m in law school to be a lawyer.”
“Ohohoho, my son managed to snag a city slicker like you? And a pretty one at that!” Delilah chuckled at the embarrassed expression on Sam and Zohniyya’s faces. “I hope our humble home is to your liking. I know it ain’t compared to city houses.”
“No, no, your home is wonderful! It’s cozy and I like it!” She was honest when she said that. The Collins’ family home was warm and bright, unlike the harsh grays she’s used to. Every room and crevice had proof that there was love in this house. It was a foreign concept, but not an unwelcome one. “Besides, it reminds me of my uncle's ranch. He had one and we went there all the time as kids.”
Delilah’s eyes widened as her curiosity piqued. She asked, “you have family in the south?”
Zohniyya’s eyes sparkled at that question. “Yea! My mom’s sister and my grandparents lives in Texas and my dad’s brother lives in Louisiana! We used to go down every summer to see’em! The only shit thing was the damn heat. I swear the amount of times I passed out was fucking insane!”
Sam smiled at the sight of his mom and girlfriend conversing as if they were old friends. The more and more Zo spoke, the stronger her accent, one that he loves very much, became. It made him feel giddy to see his wolf laughing with no care in the world, a stark contrast to when he first met her. And sure, part of her laughter was from the stories his mother was spilling, but he’d become a court jester if it means his princess will smile.
Especially if it means she saves that smile for him.
Delilah smacked her thighs and got up. “Gotta get the food ready for us to eat. Sam, come with me and we can let Zo relax for a bit,” she said while walking to the kitchen.
Zohniyya let out a quick “wait” that made the two southerners stop and look back. She shifted her weight between her legs and stuttered, “it’s just- Sam’s been driving the whole way here, the least I could do is help out with dinner?” She said the last phrase hesitantly. She was acutely aware of how seriously ‘southern hospitality’ is taken (it’s no different than ‘Canadian niceness), but truly, she wanted to give the stubborn healer this one break.
“Darlin’, it’s ok. I can set up a table-”
“Sam, why don’t you take Rennie and unpack your truck?” He tried to argue, but his momma gave him the look, the one where you don’t dare defy her orders.
He sighed in defeat. “I swear, y’all are two of the most stubborn women ever.” Sam kissed Zohniyya’s forehead, mumbling, “I’ll see you later.” He called out to his baby sister and left the living room.
Delilah stared at the stubborn yet determined shifter and chuckled. “You remind me of when I was younger.” ‘Is that a good thing? That better be a good thing!’ The old woman started to walk to the kitchen, beckoning the winter wolf to follow her.
The two women started to set up the table before Delilah spoke up.
“There is… Something I wanted to ask… Only if you want to answer.”
Zohniyya quirked her eyebrow and tilted her head. “Of course, ask away.”
“The scars… what happened?”
Her heart dropped to her chest and for a moment, she wanted to shift and run as far as she could. Away from her past that kept her from moving on. Instead, she used her words to try and make things right.
“I’m so sorry, I know the scars are intimidating, but I promise that I’d never let anything like that happen to him. God, I love him so much to ever hurt him like that. I’d burned myself from the inside out than let Sam go through any kind of pain. But if you want me to never speak with him again I totally understand and I’m sorry and-”
Her panicked blabbers were cut off by warm and loving arms wrapped around her. “Darlin’- No, I didn’t mean it like that. You’re perfect for my son, and if I’m being honest, even if I tried to keep him away from you, he’d rip heaven and earth apart to see you again.” She cupped Zohniyya’s face and wiped her tears, like a mother would do for her child. “I wanted to ask because I was worried. Wanted to make sure you were ok.”
Zohniyya choked back a sob that was rising from her throat at the tender words that Delilah was saying. How long has it been since the shifter felt the kindness of a mother? She’d argue that she’s never received that warmth.
Holding the shifter steady, Delilah said, “and if Sam ever lays a hand on you, you come to me and I’ll set that boy straight.”
A pained but quiet laugh came from Zohniyya. “He would never do that, but I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Good, it means I raised that boy right.” Delilah went somber. “Sam and Rennie’s father, he… he was a bad man. And I couldn’t bear thinking about if my boy was like him too.” She scoffed, “I know it’s stupid, but there’s a part of me wondering if I left earlier… then maybe it be better for them.”
“Hey.” She held Delilah by her shoulders. “If there is anyone who gets not leaving earlier it’s me.” Zohniyya took a deep breath, preparing her to talk about that asshole. “It took my last boyfriend nearly killing my best friend for me to come to my senses, and the shit I let him do to me…”
Delilah grounded Zohniyya. “We didn’t let anything happen to us, it was their fault, not ours. We didn’t want to get hurt, just to be loved.” Delilah played with Zohniyya’s dark, curly hair. “And I’m glad you got out and that you’re happy.”
“I am, Sam’s to thank for that. I just… You must be such an incredible woman to raise a man like him and I am forever thankful for that.” Her eyes may have been watery, but her smile shone as bright as ever.
Delilah rolled her eyes at the praise. “That’s all him, I didn’t do anything.”
“Sam would call bullshit on that. He always goes on about how you’re responsible for the man he is today, I can see why.”
It was more than the eyes and facial shape the mother and son shared. She could see where Sam got his compassion, his kindness, his stubborn nature and his capability to love from.
Despite his fears that he shared with her, Sam was nothing like his father and now she has the proof to back it up.
Delilah wiped her own tears from her eyes and sniffled, “we should set up the table before Samuel and Rehna get back.”
Zohniyya nodded and picked up where she left off, and for the first time since she got to the house, the weight on her chest was lifted and she could finally breathe again.
“Also another question, I heard that wolves had a thing… mates was it? So am I getting grandkids anytime soon?”
Zohniyya’s stuttered and embarrassed answer was all Delilah needed to let out a good laugh.
--
It was pitch dark and silent that night.
Way too silent than the shifter was used to.
Once she untangled herself from Sam’s arms (she had to put a pillow in her place to make sure he didn't wake up), Zohniyya walked down to the kitchen for some water.
As she drank, she heard another set of footsteps coming up behind her, kicking her senses into overdrive. She damn near shifted at that moment, anything to make sure her man and his family is ok.
But she calmed down when her dark eyes met the watery eyes of Rennie.
She dropped to her knees and opened her arms for the little girl. Rehna ran into her arms and held onto her like Zohniyya was her lifeline. “Hey, hey, you’re alright meri jaan. Wanna tell me what happened?”
Rehna’s voice was muffled from her burying her face in Zohniyya’s chest, but she was able to make out that she said, “scary nightmare.” And that was all she needed to act.
Carefully, she tightened her arms around Rehna and stood up. She ran her hand through the young girl’s blonde hair. “Want me to take you back to bed?” She felt Rennie shake her buried head, a no. Zohniyya stopped for a bit and said, “what if I stay with you tonight?”
That made Rennie pause before nodding her head, prompting the wolf to carry her back to Rennie’s room. Once she got there, Zohniyya tried to put her down, but the blonde had a death grip on her.
When Rennie said she wants Zohniyya to stay, she meant she wants her to hold her while she falls back asleep. She racked her brain for ideas on how to get Rennie to sleep again, until the perfect idea struck her.
“You know what my pack Alpha used to do whenever I couldn’t sleep?” She asked the question quietly, but it was enough to grab Rennie’s full attention.
Her eyes sparkled. “What did he do?” Her voice dripped with childish curiosity, a sort of innocence that Zohniyya will die defending.
“He’d shift for us and let us cuddle his wolf form.” Her eyes went misty from remembering her old Alpha. “Gabe’s wolf form was huge, so even as teens, he’d cuddle us. Something about having wolf fur surrounding you made the nightmares… go away. Or maybe it’s a wolf thing.”
Rehna fiddled with her blanket and shyly asked, “can you give me wolf cuddles too?”
She smiled. “Pyaari, it be my honour. First I need you to close your eyes and no peeking, or else you’re gonna get it.” As with all of her threats from today, it was empty as hell.
Rehna giggled and covered eyes.
Zohniyya got off the bed and removed her clothes. The tension left her body when she shifted, always a welcome feeling. Thankfully, Rehna’s bed was big enough to fit herself and the wolf.
Gently, she climbed onto her bed and nudged the little girl with her snout. It was her cue to finally open her eyes and see the beautiful white wolf in front of her.
“You’re so pretty! You look like snow on a mountain top!” Rennie curled up beside the wolf and buried her face in her fur, her littles gripping the wolf for dear life. She rested her head against Zohniyya's fluffy stomach. “Thank you… for this… I’m gonna go to sleep now…” Rehna’s breathing went quiet and soft snores filled the room.
‘Sonay jao, chunni se munni. Khal, ap tumhari daraona khawab yaad nah rehna.’
--
“Samuel, go get the damn camera now!”
“I’m grabbing it ma, I can only move so fast! I ain’t a damn vamp.”
“Are you giving me attitude Samuel?”
“No ma’am.”
“Good.”
...
“You did well loving her and making her feel loved.”
“Momma, I think it’s my life's greatest achievement having the honour to call her mine.”
“Good, I want her in our lives for as long as possible. Besides, I need grandbabies Samuel!”
“Momma!!!”
#redacted asmr#redacted sam#redacted darlin#redacted lovely#yall this is self indulgent as helllllll#but!!!! i love it!!!!#PLEASE MIND THE WARNINGS!!!!#THESE ARE NOT THE CANON REDACTED LISTENERS#anywho southern siblings my beloved <3333#fem! darlin#fem! lovely#also also#this isnt a part of any secret santa even#just something i wroteee#zo writes tingz#this is zo speaking
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What if I told you that RoobrickMarine went and wrote an entire novella starring my 16th century dog couple? It's very canon-adjacent, well researched and thoughtfully put together, has inspired me a ton during these past months and it's now publicly available at AO3. I highly recommend it.
✦ Separation ✦
#content warnings for sex violence self harm and general angst#six chapters 41K words#people who have asked for longer stories of these two please give this one a look#I've watched this unfold since late may? early july? and it's been an exciting experience#I'm not a writer I think it's better than what I could've come up with#honestly though the way he managed to get inside Machete's and Vasco's heads was uncanny their mannerisms and thought processes are spot on#some of the events aren't canon but they might as well be#and most of the background details and backstory tidbits are accurate believe me he's very well versed on their lore#big history nerd so the worldbuilding is intense#you get to meet the dog pope#there's saint sebastian#roommate hijinks#it gets kind of bleak at times though so be mindful of that#it's not all fluff and good feelings#Separation#Heinaven#RoobrickMarine#own characters#own art#artists on tumblr#CanisAlbus#Vasco#Machete#anthro#sighthound#dogs#canine#animals#if you end up reading the whole thing it would be really sweet if you left a little comment as a thanks for his hard work
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"Do I Need To Beg?" (Matt Murdock x F!Reader, Fic) 🔥
Right so like a lot of other people, I saw that leaked trailer and had thots, mostly about Matt's new beard, and much like my thoughts on his coat, none of these thots are pure. This is pure fucking sin, in other words, one of the filthier things I've written, so scroll past if that's not your thing. Also thank you to my friends over in the Murdock's Tuna Team server, ya'll are the best fucking enablers ever.
Ship: Matt Murdock x F!Reader
Chapter Summary:
“Welcome home, Mrs. Murdock,” he purred darkly, lazily dragging his tongue across his lips in a way that told you, quite clearly, what he was imagining. “If you need to shower or drink a glass of water, do it now. Because the second you enter this bedroom, you’re mine for the rest of the night. And I have no intention of letting you go until I’ve had my fill.”
Wordcount: 4.1k words
Warnings for this chapter, let's do this: oral f!receiving and a LOT of it like this is literally just a love letter to bearded Matt eating you out (Matt retains his 😺eating crown), brief oral m!receiving, Dom!Matt, Sub!Reader, bondage, overstimulation, subspace, dirty talk, PiV towards the end, Matt's new fucking BEARD none of us are ok
Matt with an oral fixation incoming, here have this:
Your trip out of town had lasted longer than you’d initially expected.
Initially you'd only planned to be gone for ten days, but ten had abruptly been extended to an irritating fourteen with little notice. Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything you could do about it, though Matt had reassured you over the phone that it was fine. While he missed you dearly and would have vastly preferred you back home and in his arms, he understood that things were out of your control. However, he did have one more thing to say before you’d both given your goodbyes, something that wound up eating at you for the rest of your trip in all the best ways.
“Besides,” he’d murmured. “It’ll give me a little more time to work on my surprise for you.”
What that surprise was had been a mystery, one he’d smugly refused to reveal no matter how much you’d tried to pry it out of him over the ensuing phone calls. It couldn’t have been a gift for your next wedding anniversary, which was still a few months away. Nor was it your birthday, or Valentine’s Day. As best you could guess, this was just one of those moments when Matt decided to give you something, just because he could, just because he wanted to, no prompting needed. That wasn’t an uncommon occurrence with him, one more thread in the tapestry made from all the many reasons you loved him.
However, on the list of things you’d expected to find when you finally made it home, you hadn’t thought to include Matt standing shirtless in the bedroom doorway, his sweats slung low on his hips, his hair still damp from his shower. One corner of his mouth curled up into a wicked smirk, and oh, he knew. He knew, or he’d at least suspected what your response would be to his surprise, and you drew in a sharp intake of breath.
He’d grown a beard.
You raked your gaze over it, taking in the way it seemed to change the angles of his jaw and his face, somehow adding a dangerous edge to his smile. What was more, there were little patches of grey scattered amidst the dark of it. You had no idea why, but something about those threads of silver only added to the building heat between your thighs, a fire that had started the second you’d seen him standing casually in the doorway, his beautiful body on open display just for you.
How would it feel to touch him, cradle his jaw in your hands now?
How would it feel when he pressed his lips to yours, to your throat?
And how would it feel as he made his way down, down, down, the rough scrape of his beard lighting you up as he drifted towards one of his favorite places on your body?
Your shiver drew a rumble of satisfaction from him. He slowly rolled his head back, inhaling deeply, clearly savoring the scent of your arousal.
“Welcome home, Mrs. Murdock,” he purred darkly, lazily dragging his tongue across his lips in a way that told you, quite clearly, what he was imagining. “If you need to shower or drink a glass of water, do it now. Because the second you enter this bedroom, you’re mine for the rest of the night. And I have no intention of letting you go until I’ve had my fill.”
You were pretty sure you’d never downed a glass of water and gotten into the shower so quick in your life.
Matt kept his promise. The second you stepped out of the bathroom, he was on you, his beard a deliciously unfamiliar sensation as he caught your face between his hands and pressed his mouth hungrily to yours. That wild kiss didn’t stop at just one, your lips separating only to meet again a half-breath later, over and over again. The two of you only grew more frantic with every second that passed, hips beginning to rock, bodies swaying towards each other, until you were both left gasping, frantic and breathless, hands groping desperately across whatever bared skin either of you could reach.
“Bed.” The word was a low growl against your lips, his hand wound loosely around your throat, one thumb up under the hinge of your jaw to force your head back for him. One of your hands, meanwhile, had slipped back and down beneath the hem of his sweats, blatantly groping at the thick curve of his ass. He let out a rough groan that you eagerly swallowed down, the skin around your mouth already burning from the rasp of his beard where it had rubbed against you. “Fuck—Bed. Now.”
He wasn’t going to get an argument from you.
It was a short, stumbling walk from there to the bedroom. Neither of you bothered to keep your hands off each other, your fingers fisting in his damp hair as he pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses to that special spot under your jaw that made your legs shake, Matt seemingly eager to drink the remaining droplets of water from your skin. You should have guessed his plans when you noticed the towel on the bed. But it was hard to focus with the tantalizing burn of his new beard dragging across the delicate skin of your throat, and with the taste and scent and touch of him filling your senses after a long two weeks apart. It felt like there was nothing in the world but him, nothing but the scent of cinnamon and copper and salt, the warmth of it so rich you couldn’t help but gasp with it as he herded you backwards until at last, you both found the bed.
The world lurched, and just like that you were pinned beneath him, the broad, heavy weight of him easily trapping you against the mattress, not that you minded. Your ragged moan of his name seemed to hang in the air, your fingers still tangled in his hair. God, your cunt was practically dripping already as you lifted your hips, trying to rock up against him in invitation. You'd been thinking of this the entire time you'd showered. He had to have sensed it. “Matt, sweetheart, please.” “I’ve been thinking about this since you left,” he purred in your ear, his breath a rush of burning embers before he started down your body. The moment he reached your bare breasts, he pressed his face between them, the rasp of his beard making you shiver. He inhaled deeply, dragging your scent deep into his lungs. That inhale led to a hitched, delighted moan, his hips rocking down against the mattress. Without warning, he turned his head and eagerly drew one of your nipples into his mouth. The greedy suction of his mouth when paired with the bristling scratch of his facial hair made you whine, writhing as best you could where you were trapped beneath the heavy weight of muscle and bone. But despite the way you offered up your chest in invitation, he had other plans, quickly releasing your breast to slide further down your body. His voice dropped into something low and sinful, then, soft as silk against your skin. “And I’ve missed this sweet pussy of yours, sweetheart.” He placed a tender, innocent kiss against your hip, the gentle nature of it at direct odds with the obscenity of his words. It was a combination that left you burning up, your breath hitching as he pointedly lifted one of your legs to drape it easily over his shoulder. He directed his blank gaze back up towards your own, his lips curling up into a feral grin. “So I’m going to see how many times I can make you come with my mouth tonight. And I’m not stopping until you’ve soaked everything underneath you.”
Oh god—
Your eager moan and the fresh flood of arousal between your legs was the only answer he needed. He let out a quiet hiss before diving in, his tongue burying itself between your folds for one heavy lap up your cunt, the first taste of you he’d had in weeks. And with a rough moan that matched yours in volume, he threw one arm over your hips, and settled in.
And there he stayed, his face buried between your thighs, for hours.
You lost track of your orgasms after you came for the third time, three of his fingers hilted deep inside you, his tongue lapping firmly, determinedly at your clit. It had been impossible to resist between that and the rhythmic, rough scrape of his beard against the inside of your thighs—a sweet-edged pain you were quickly growing addicted to. You came so hard you saw spots at the edge of your vision, came so hard you left a puddle on the towel beneath you, your startled cry loud enough to wake the neighbors. Your brain didn’t even know what to do with that kind of pleasure, your thighs snapping shut around his head, your whole body writhing as the pleasure washed over you in uneven waves.
But Matt didn’t so much as slow. If anything, he simply opened his mouth wider, drank from you even faster, swallowing down that flood as if you were the sweetest of wines. The moment he tasted your orgasm, one that drenched his beard and mouth, his eyes snapped shut, his hips bucking against the mattress. A wild, shaky moan tore from his throat as he came with you, soaking his sweats, the rhythm of his mouth growing clumsy and uneven.
Yet still, he didn’t stop, despite the fact you'd both come. All it took was a few breaths before he was back at it. He seemed almost mindless now, focused only on taking, greedy and insatiable as he forced your body and his to start the climb yet again.
You lost control over your body not long after, your reactions instinctive and uncoordinated. Somehow you found your hands back in his hair, soft, sweat-soaked strands sliding through your fingers. You weren’t sure what you meant to do then, whether you wanted to push him away from your overstimulated body or pull him in even closer, ride his face the way you wanted. Either way, he wound up deciding for you.
“Seems to me like someone can’t control herself.” He braced one hand firmly against your abdomen, and though he couldn’t see you, you still felt pinned by his gaze and the almost drunken little quirk of his lips. Even in the low light, you could see how his beard and mouth glistened, slick with the taste of you. “Do you need the rope, sweetheart? Do you want me to help you?”
There wasn’t a chance in the world of you remaining still without that rope, not if he intended to keep going. And you both knew it.
“Yes, please,” you whispered, your eyes fluttering closed as he clumsily rose from his place between your legs. Despite the lingering oversensitivity in your body, the sudden absence of his mouth still made you whimper. You just—you needed more, the promise of it keeping the tide of your arousal from fully easing.
“What a good girl, admitting you need help,” he crooned, crawling up the bed far enough to reach the nightstand, pausing only to brush his lips against yours, the scent of your sex clinging heavily to his beard and mouth. He opened the drawer and dug around for a moment, until he finally drew free a length of red silk rope, testing it out in his hand. Once he was satisfied, he began to loop the rope around your wrists. “Don’t worry. We’ll make sure you can’t move. Because I meant what I said. I’m not letting you up until I’m finished with you, and I’m nowhere near done, sweetheart.”
The moment your wrists were properly tied, he placed his knees on either side of you, rising up to hook the length of rope to the hook set into the wall. But that put something else within reach of your mouth, and all the grinding he’d done against the bed had managed to drag his soaked sweats down just far enough to expose his cock. He was already half-hard again, the head slick and dripping, flushed dark and tempting.
In that moment, you needed to taste it.
The noise he made as you darted your head forward and took the tip of him into your mouth was inhuman, one part choked gasp and one part snarl. You suckled at the broad head eagerly, rapid little licks of your tongue against his slit to draw out more of the precum leaking steadily into your mouth, trying to get as much as you could before he could stop you. He wound up hunched over the top of you, one hand braced against the wall, the other fisted in your hair to hold you against him. And the harder you sucked, the more his rough growls and snarls shifted into high moans and soft little whines, his hips bucking instinctively, helplessly forward, pressing his cock deeper into the warm, welcoming wet heat of your mouth. Even those powerful thighs of his started to shake.
If you did this right, he’d come in no time at all.
But it was the creak of the ropes as you instinctively reached for him that seemed to snap him out of it.
Just like that, your head was wrenched back by his hand in your hair, his cock sliding free from your lips with a wet pop, saliva dripping from the corner of your mouth, and down onto your chest as you stared blearily up at him. Chest heaving, dark eyes burning, he slowly leaned down until his lips hovered mere millimeters from yours. But even though his lips hadn’t made contact, his beard did, the faintest brush of bristling hairs tickling against your overheated skin until you couldn’t help but moan.
“And this,” he grit out, “is why you’re being tied: because you can’t keep your hands or your mouth to yourself.”
“I’m sorry,” you whined, trying to nuzzle at him in apology. He dodged your mouth, his hand tightening in your hair in warning. This time, at least, you listened, rolling your head back into his touch, trying to make up for what you’d done, submit like he wanted. “I’m sorry, Matt. I just wanted a taste, I needed you so bad.”
“If you’d asked like a good girl, maybe I’d have given it to you. Now you’re going to have to make it up to me.” He abruptly let go of your hair, climbing back down your body, ignoring the way you thrashed and twisted. Once he was back in place, he roughly shoved your thighs apart, dropping back down between your legs like he belonged there, claiming that space for himself. “Do I need to beg?” you choked out, practically shaking when he caught the thin, delicate skin of your inner thigh between his teeth, sucking hard. He lingered there for a long moment as you moaned and yanked desperately on the ropes, but it was no use. He was in control, not you, and you knew he wouldn’t let go until he’d left his mark, claiming this part of your body that belonged to only him. But what you weren’t expecting was for him to let go… and then tip his head, sliding his cheek, and his beard along the newly sensitive skin. The burn of it sent you soaring, your cunt clenching around nothing, your back arching as you tried to offer your core up to his mouth. “I’ll beg! God, I will, Matt, just—” “I don’t need you to beg,” he growled, his lips curling until he’d bared his teeth. “I need you to scream.”
Then his mouth latched onto your cunt again, relentless and inescapable no matter how much you writhed. It was torture, madness of the best kind, and it wasn’t long before something in your mind began to unravel, drawn right down out of your body and into his mouth to be swallowed down the Devil's greedy throat.
Things… got a little blurry after that.
There was no tracking the time, not when one orgasm melded into the next, minutes and hours falling away beneath the merciless lap of Matt’s skilled tongue, the brutal curl of his thick fingers, the rough scrape of his beard against your thighs and cunt until everything burned with pleasure and pain that turned the edges of your vision a fractured white. There was no outside world, no thought left in your mind but his name, nothing but the mountains he dragged your increasingly exhausted body up, and the swift fall when he mercilessly shoved you over the edge, over and over and over until you were ready to lose your mind.
“Matt!” you sobbed, wrenching hard at the ropes binding your wrists. It didn’t make one bit of difference, the rope firm and unyielding where you were bound. Down between your legs, Matt slurped hungrily, drunkenly at your cunt, his face and throat drenched with your slick, a wide puddle on the towel beneath the place where his mouth connected to your body. The burn of his beard was almost unbearable now, but you didn’t know what to do about it. You weren’t even sure he could hear you at this point, his eyes glazed over and glassy, the broad laps at your slit and clit so instinctive and clumsy that you were half convinced he was lost in the same place you were, drunk off the taste of your pussy, off your repeated orgasms and pheromones that he’d been drenched in.
Another finger joined the three he already had buried deep inside you. He’d been at this so long that your body parted for him with little issue, and god, god, you were so goddamn full, so trapped in the haze that all you could do was choke out another sob as all four of his fingertips rubbed firmly at that spot inside you. You were too tired even to close your legs around his head, but you could feel it—that final orgasm curling hot and inescapable inside you, so close now you could taste the fractured shards of it, tears streaming down your cheeks as your eyes snapped shut.
“I think maybe you earned that taste you wanted,” he slurred, kissing lovingly at your clit like he might a lover, his lips parted just far enough to let his tongue brush against you. And god, it almost hurt, it hurt, your body so far beyond oversensitivity that even that light touch hit you like a bolt of lightning, your body jolting. “Not that you can answer me now. Or can you?”
All you could give him was a mindless whine.
He chuckled, working his free hand down beneath himself as he lifted his hips. His mouth dropped open a moment later, face going slack against your cunt before he moaned loudly, his shoulder shifting rhythmically beneath your thigh, his eyes rolling shut. Was he—
He drew his hand up a moment later with a purr, his fingers now smeared and sticky with both your wetness and his, glistening softly in the low light. “What do you say, sweetheart? Would you like a taste? Because I would.”
You whimpered, tugging mindlessly at the ropes, and you—yes, yes, but your tongue couldn’t seem to quite form the word yes, because he still had the fingers of his other hand buried inside you, rubbing steadily at the spot that made you see stars. God, please, the mere thought of tasting your combined flavors on your tongue had you almost mad, your body a hairs-breadth away from coming. All you needed was a nudge—a brush of him at your clit, the taste of him on your tongue, and you’d tip over the edge.
He clearly knew it, too. And you thought-you’d thought he would be offering his hand as he dipped back down to your cunt, but instead, he pulled his soaked fingers free from you with a sigh. Your cry was a broken thing, something thick with grief at feeling so empty when you were so close, more tears streaming down your cheeks.
“Shh, you’re alright, sweetheart, don't cry,” he crooned gently, hushing you as he crawled up over your body, nuzzling at your sweat-soaked skin. “Don’t worry. It’s only for a second. I won’t leave you empty. I promise. Almost done. Almost there. One more for me. You’re going to give me one more, honey.” But how, when you were so empty, when you didn’t have his mouth or his fingers, lost and—
He groaned as he began to slide his thick cock inside you. You’d been stretched so open by his fingers, by all of your orgasms over the past few hours, that he entered you with a delicious ease. The sloppy, wet squelch of his cock as he slid inside you would have made your cheeks burn if you’d had any sense left.
“Shit,” he moaned, one hand braced beside your head, fisting in the sheets. One rock of his hips and he was buried as deep as he could reach, your cunt clenching around him as if it were trying to keep him there. You were too exhausted to lift your legs and lock them around his hips. All you could do was gasp and accept him, your eyes rolled back as you hovered on the edge. “Nn, there you go, sweetheart. There we go. Nice and-and full. Hold on just a little longer for me. Open your mouth, honey.”
You parted your lips instantly, long past resisting, long past thinking.
His fingers stroked gently against your tongue a moment later, allowing you to take in the combined musky taste of yourself, the bitter richness of his cock, and how it mingled and melded with the taste of his skin.
“Suck for me like a good girl,” he murmured, his other hand rising to wipe away a few of your tears. Once that was done, he settled his hand around your throat, as if he wanted to feel it when you swallowed. “Go on, sweetheart. You can have it.”
You curled your tongue around his fingers, drawing them deep into your mouth with a grateful moan. The explosion of it across your tongue as you swallowed, the sheer obscenity of it, made you choke out a broken cry. His fingers were yanked back a moment later only to be replaced by his tongue snaking lazily into your open mouth, blatantly chasing your paired tastes with a filthy moan. All of it rolled up over you at once—his cock sliding up against that spot inside you, the whisper of pressure around your throat as his massive hand closed around it, the angle of his hips that let his body grind against your clit, the paired taste of you both filling your mouth as his tongue curled against yours, but…
It was the harsh scrape of his beard against your skin that pushed you over the edge.
Later, you wouldn’t remember the noise you made as you came, your body seizing as your orgasm slammed into you in one sudden rush. Your body went rigid, back bowing off the bed so sharply you felt something pop, your head thrown back as you lost yourself beneath a roaring tide of pleasure. Because this-this wasn’t something you rode, something you swam with, something that swept over you gently. This was something you survived, something you choked beneath, drowned beneath. You barely heard Matt’s shout, didn’t even notice the spreading heat as he came with you in slick pulses of warmth. You heard even less his slurred words of encouragement against your lips as your orgasm lingered in waves that just didn’t end, and you couldn't, you couldn't—
“There you go. Good girl, good girl, so good for me, let it all go sweetheart, I’ve got you, good gi—”
You weren’t quite sure where your mind went, then. But things cut out for a while.
How long you tapped out for was a mystery, the world around you faded into a soft black. All you knew was that when you finally floated back up from that quiet sea, your senses coming back to you one by one, Matt was there, your limp body cradled warmly against his chest. “Come on, sweetheart,” he murmured, the sounds distant and still a little warped as he rocked you gently. He had to have untied you at some point, you thought blearily, since he was holding you now, his back against the headboard, your head tucked down against his neck. “Come on back, honey. Time to come back for me.”
You made a soft little noise of acknowledgement in your throat, all you really felt capable of at the moment, your eyes fluttering half open.
“Hi there, sweetheart,” he hummed, nuzzling down warmly against your hair. One of his hands swept steadily up and down your arm, sensation that helped ground you, along with the easy rhythm of his breathing as he held you, the rasp of his skin against yours. “There you are, my good girl. You did so good, honey. Now you’ve got it. Take it slow. Breathe with me."
“Mmm.”
"That works." He huffed a quiet laugh, tipping your slack head back until he could brush his lips against your forehead. Your head lolled against his shoulder, your body feeling a bit like all your bones had just up and wandered off. Maybe Matt had sucked them out of you. “I got eight out of you tonight if you can believe it. A new record.”
“It’s,” you slurred thickly, “the… beard. I love it.”
“I figured. And now I'm definitely going to keep it.” He nuzzled at you again, lifting one of your hands so he could knead gently at your wrist where you’d been tied. You'd probably have some bruises tomorrow considering how hard you'd yanked at the ties, but you'd wear them with pride. You always did. “And now you get the full aftercare treatment. Water, a snack, maybe a massage and a lot of cuddling before you fall asleep. I almost thought about drawing you a bath, but I’m not quite sure I trust you not to accidentally slide down into the water right now, even with me holding you.”
“...Fair.” You sleepily mashed your face against his throat, drawing the musky scent of sex and his skin deep into your lungs. You were still floating to a certain extent, your body sore and exhausted, but the comfort of his touch, the low rumble of his voice went a long way to soothing you. “Love you. Missed you.”
“I love you and missed you, too.” He pressed a fond kiss to your wrist, letting out a contented sigh. “Let’s avoid being apart for a while.”
“Agreed.”
#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock x f!reader#daredevil x reader#daredevil x f!reader#daredevil#matt murdock#fic#fanfic#reader fic#x reader#reader insert#ns/fw#tw: smut#tw: oral#this is filth please mind the warnings#daredevil: born again fic#matt's blatant oral fixation#i regret nothing
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Reasons to play In Stars and Time: Canon Pronoun Warfare.
#in stars and time#ISAT#Siffrin#Loop#Context: early on you meet a character who tries to get you to use the royal We pronoun for them and you shut them down. It's great.#The gender swag and non-binary rep in this game is lovely.#I sketched this out when I was in Act 2 - and as of posting this I have not yet finished the game so *please* no spoilers.#It is rare for me to get into something spoiler free and I have been getting my shit rocked by this game in the best way.#Yes I *am* taking another detour to talk about a video game I love again. I will have some fun crossovers. Trust the process.#I will also do my best to pitch this game as spoiler free as possible. Because you *should* play this game:#ISAT is a very lovingly crafted RPG with very fun and emotional writing.#The characters are great and the mysteries you slowly uncover are intriguing!#The way the gameplay ties into the player's own emotional state is nearly always in sync with the protagonist. You *will* feel things.#And it is not afraid to let those things be hard emotions! Do mind the content warnings and know your limits though.#As someone who sucks at video games I also appreciate that it is so generous with your time and keeps things fun.#Not to mention it is honestly underpriced for the amount of content in it. Buy this game. I need to spread the brainworms.
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LIES, LIES, LIES ENDLESS LIES… TIME TO WAKE UP HUMANITY
👩🏼🔬🤥👨🏻🔬
#safe and effective#warning#be ware#knowledge#know your enemy#don’t trust the science trust your intuition#trust your immune system#trust god#truth is powerful#justice is coming#corruption#greed#depopulation agenda#mind control#crimes against humanity#these people are evil#speaktruth#fight for justice#standup#speak up#truth#please share#wwg1wga
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MAY I HUMBLY REQUEST MORE RENDOG.... I really love your design for him <3
Dude I'm so sorry I drew Tango instead idk what happened
Surprise shiny duo!!! :)
#for real though I hope you dont mind anon!!! I really wanna draw more Rendog but also Ive been wanting to draw him in silly pink clothing#ever since I drew him for the first time#rendog#renthedog#tango tek#tangotek#trafficblr#secret life#secret life fanart#Ren is so sweet and silly I love him so dearly#red winter and bloodshed and stuff like ok whatever you say little guy#You see a sign warning you of a mean violent guard dog and the dog is just Ren asking if he may bite you. “is that alright if I bite you.”#How do Tango's clothes fit on him? Please do not ask me that. We both know Tango's not gonna be able to wear those clothes again though#I will draw more Rendog for sure!!!#tubby art
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ZUKKA BIG BANG 2024 - MASTER POST
Was It Over Then? (and is it over now?) / art (pt 1) / art (pt 2)
writer: @zukkaart
beta: @transboysokka
artist: @littlegayteaboy
Chalk It Up to Love / art
writer: @bisexuallsokka
artist: @purplew
Where You Never Knew You'd Go / art
writer: @ronilani
beta: @backhurtyy
artist: @ic3-que3n
I Taste the Salt on Your Hands +art (embedded)
writer: @littencloud9
beta: @cluedeedoo
artist: @djpuppy
Should I Write It in a Letter? +art
writer: @rejectscanon
beta: @sukiluvvs
artist: @britishmuffin
Bad Habits Are Easily Acquired / art
writer: @umossu
beta: @blbelmont
artist: @3cosmicfrogs
Cryptic And Machiavellian ('cause I care) / art
writer: @leafsfromthevine
beta: @kartoonkrazy
artist: @lnuns
Air Nomad Pet-Sitting for Beginners +art
writer: @dragonbagel
artist: @lizardlicks
Before The First Light / art
writer: @littlegayteaboy
beta: @syciaralynx
artist: @umossu
Hands, At the Day's End / art
writer: @backhurtyy
beta: @that-was-anticlimactic
artist: @blbelmont
Bouquets Are a Declaration of Intent / art 1 / art 2
writer: @syciaralynx
beta: @astralucy
artist 1: @julessongs
artist 2: @timetravellers-art
Into the Future, Into the Past / art
writer: @nikantros
beta: @atuats-sidechick
artist: @sidvishess
Dragon Tales +art
writer: @rosewatertears
beta: @syciaralynx
artist: @julessongs
Adrift In a Stranger's Galaxy / art
writer: @beachytablecloth
beta: @zukkaoru
artist: @shitelock
Something Stranger and More Wonderful / art
writer: @faux-fires
beta: @ranilla-bean
artist: @chiptrillino
Letters To the Void / art (coming soon)
writer: @sidvishess
beta + artist: @adriancatrin
Falling Feels Like Flying / art
writer: @that-was-anticlimactic
beta: @beachytablecloth
artist: @britishmuffin
I Shine Only with the Light You Gave Me / art
writer: @zukkaoru
beta: @justaloadofgarbage
artist: @blbelmont
The Mercy of Magpies +art (cover) / art (characters)
writer: @ranilla-bean
beta: @faux-fires
artist: @ash-and-starlight
How It Feels to Have a Heartbeat / art
writer: @transboysokka
beta: @zukkaoru
artist: @harbingersecho
I Could Follow You to the Beginning Just to Relive the Start / art
writer: @atsushigrayson
beta: @bisexuallsokka
artist: @sidvishess
The Light Prince +art
writer: @macabr8y
beta: @faux-fires
artist: @drowthelynes
tsit-sut-á +art
writer: Shen (aiyah on AO3)
artist: @3cosmicfrogs
The Pretender / art
writer: @sulkybender
artist: @umossu
Hold Me Tight (Or don't) / art (#1) / art (#2) / art (#3)
writer: @julessongs
beta: @syciaralynx
artist: @umossu
There Are No Ostrich Horses In Ba Sing Se / art
writer: @queenofmoons67
beta: @enbymoomin
artist: @ic3-que3n
The Things I Would Do (To Steal Time with You) / art
writer: @erisenyo
beta: @kartoonkrazy
artist: @lizardlicks
Catch Me If You Can +art
writer: @cluedeedoo
beta: @djpuppy
artist: @sukiluvvs
Nobody Can Save Me / art
writer: @pnsxlnotmnsxl
beta 1: @queendollophead-ao3
beta 2: @astralucy
artist: @lnuns
I'll Tell Them to Put Me Back In (darling, I would do it again) / art
writer: @andrea-lyn
beta: @syciaralynx
artist: @seasideoranges
No Light, No Light +art
writer: Tal (mooncourt03 on AO3)
beta: @rejectscanon
artist: @seasideoranges
wonderful, unattached art piece by @sukidude
#as always please mind the tags and warnings for your own enjoyment :)#zukka big bang#zukka big bang 2024#zukka#master post#navigation post
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TRANSFORMERS: RISE OF THE BEASTS 2023, dir. Steven Caple Jr.
#transformers#rise of the beasts#rotb#rotb spoilers#transformers: rise of the beasts#transformersedit#tfedit#rotbedit#filmedit#movieedit#scifiedit#mirage#optimus prime#noah diaz#mai gifs#okay i tagged spoilers so if you dont wanna see my posts about the movie please block the tag or block me i dont mind#this is a warning bc i will be posting more gifs soon (with spoilers) so. beware#also if this looks like ass is bc is A CAM VERSION UH but i couldnt control myself i had to make some gifs bc i love noah and mirage so muc#well i love this movie so much SJKDKSJKD it's my new personality sorry
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woah man where’d you get that shade i love it
#horrid beasts#fazgang designs#he’s fiiiine#mind just got a lil mad#he can thug it out#chonny jash#cccc#heart chonny jash#mind chonny jash#soul chonny jash#heart cj#mind cj#soul cj#art#every thousand years i will actually colour my art#cw blood#blood warning#please excuse the background lmfao
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Twice Buried [Hotch x Reader]
Photo credits: Left (@i06gyu) Center (@@mickisnotclever) Right (@sleepinginthelibrary)
Prompt: Aaron finds out about the depth of pain the reader went through in her childhood and he can’t let the wrongs done to her go without risking their relationship, so he takes matters into his own hands.
Pairing: Aaron x BAU!Reader, fem!Reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns
Category: Angst/Comfort
Word Count: 14.9K
Content Warnings: Mention of childhood sexual abuse [reader] hoarding, gross bugs, phobias [reader] mention of food and drink, character in distress [reader] mention of death of a family member [reader].
A/N: Hi all! I hope you are all doing very well! It has been a good while since I’ve posted a fic. If you want that whole, what happened in Levi’s life recently story, feel free to check out my other posts. I can’t promise fics will be written and posted as often as they used to be, but I am still writing, and I still love Aaron. Please be kind to yourselves this week and do something you love, you are so special. If you enjoy this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Love Levi - ❤️
List with all stories
y/n = your name
y/n had been reserved since joining the BAU. Everyone noticed it. Worse than Emily, who had made a special kind of splash by crash landing ‘by accident’ on the team. But y/n had been far from an accident. She’d been on an arranged agent swap with the General Directorate for Internal Security or the GDIS for short on their anti-terrorism team. After the ‘Je Suis Charlie’ incident in 2015, the U.S. was afraid of similar incidents happening in the States and had sent a few agents abroad to get a better grasp of the situation and then report back to the FBI and the Pentagon. y/n had been one of those agents. When she spotted a similar trend online that indicated that another attack was imminent she acted in time. The information had been found in a private Discord Server which Penelope had helped hack. The ring had been larger than any of the team could imagine, and having y/n on the team had been a help. It wasn’t a long time later before Dave sent y/n an invitation to join the team for a prolonged period of time. y/n had agreed. Getting an invitation to be on the BAU was like winning the lottery, and she hadn’t won anything in her life before, so she wasn’t going to give up this one chance to make something of herself.
The change from y/n’s original team to the BAU had been a culture shock, even though she’d been on the team for a short time before. Her somber and almost aloof attitude while in the office had rubbed some of the team the wrong way. Aaron had to remind them that they all had a period of adjustment, except for Spencer, who was basically raised in the FBI. All of the original members of the team had laughed at that and agreed with Hotch. However, time passed and yes, y/n had gotten better. She was less aloof, and the team realized they had mistaken that first emotion for a closed-offness that y/n kept herself in.
She was marvelous at redirecting conversations back to another member of the team, or vaguely answering without really giving any solid details. If their group had normal people, they wouldn’t have even noticed, and it was clear to all of them that y/n’s former team had been the same way too. However, the BAU relied very much on knowing each other, even if it wasn’t all the gory details, Hotch for one had never opened up about his younger years, but hints were appreciated, so they could keep each other safe.
For example, if the team hadn’t known how bad Spencer’s drug problem had been, they wouldn’t have been able to protect him from the legal ramifications of his actions. They had protected him from that. But over time, y/n had stayed wary and guarded, though she had started attending events with the team outside of work which was an improvement. Finally, JJ stepped in and told y/n, respectfully, if she could just try and talk more to the team. They wanted to know her and cared about what she thought. This had hurt y/n at first. She felt betrayed and that she’d let her new team down. y/n knew JJ was saying this in good faith and not to demean her in any way. She’d experienced that before and this wasn’t that. So, slowly, y/n had started talking more and giving her thoughts on things. She still stayed mostly quiet about herself. Why would remain a mystery to the team for a long, long, time?
Once when the team was out for a post-case, late-night meal, they were talking about and laughing, and Aaron was sitting across from y/n. He had paid a lot of attention to y/n. In some small ways, she reminded him of Elle, and he felt like he had failed Elle in some fundamental way when she had ‘left’ the team. No matter how much better y/n had become at sharing her emotions and opening up, there were still obvious tells that Hotch could perceive around a topic that made y/n wary. Things like family, or childhood, or the past. When these conversations started, as one had that evening, he watched as y/n’s face fell flat for just a micro-second. When her normally pretty expression changed to this, Aaron imagined y/n as a marble statue whose bright paint had chipped away decades ago. Someone stuck in a moment of anguish forever. y/n always snapped out of it, and the other members of the team didn’t seem to notice it, but Aaron did. He wondered what was behind those moments of affectless expression. It bothered him, but he didn’t pry. He hoped, that when the time was right, y/n would find the courage to open up herself. But he wasn’t going to pressure her into a confession. That was against his moral compass. He knew from personal experience that it was harder to speak about difficult things when pressure was added.
The team kept trekking on as the summer moved into the fall and a few more facets about y/n were discovered. The team was on a case in the Midwest. A small town off the beaten track where an unsub had been finding more and more gruesome ways to kill people. It was halfway through the case and the team was going back to the hotel to catch some sleep before the start of another day. 3:00 a.m. at a small motel was oddly liminal, and Hotch felt a sense of unease as they all trudged to their rooms. y/n was next to him on the left and he walked with her up the stairs on the outside of the building toward their rooms. y/n covered her mouth as she yawned. She’d told Hotch it was okay, that she could walk by herself, but he insisted he go with her. He didn’t like the idea of y/n walking around outside at this time of night, even if it would be under a five-minute walk.
y/n could feel her legs lagging up the stairs as she was so tired. She’d done a lot of physical work that day and her brain and body were protesting. As y/n lowered her hand from her mouth and said, “Sorry. Hotch. I’m so ready for bed.” What she was trying to say was that she was moving slowly, slowing him, and his long legs down from getting some sleep. Even though y/n wasn’t very clear with her words, Aaron understood what she meant and was about to say that it was totally fine, but as they reached the landing, an eerily human-child-sounding scream came from the dimly lit parking lot.
This shocked y/n and Aaron into awareness, and Hotch, subconsciously pulled y/n quickly behind his body. He could feel how tense y/n was. How on edge as her hand brushed his side to look around his body. He held his hand out to the side to keep her back in case it was a dangerous situation. Thankfully, a long second later, there was a thump and another sound as a skinny coyote scampered away from the dumpster in the corner of the lot. Both Aaron and y/n deflated and Hotch turned to look at y/n, and they both chuckled at how frightened they had been at the presence of an animal. They finished getting to their rooms and y/n raised a hand saying, “Night Hotch. See ya in the morning.” Aaron shot her a hint of a smile and said, “Sleep well, y/n.”
Aaron moved into his room and turned on the lamps. The walls were paper thin in the motel, and he heard as y/n moved around in her room just a wall away from his. Apart from that it was relatively quiet for a bit as Hotch got out of his black slacks and into the grey sweatpants he normally slept in during cases. They were soft and worn in a way he liked. He had just slipped on his classic white short-sleeved shirt from his suitcase and was just moving toward the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth when there was a yelp from y/n’s room, then a crash and the hurried steps of y/n running toward her door. He heard the rusty hinges scream as y/n moved outside and he wasn’t far after her. Outside he caught y/n putting her hand on her chest, breathing heavily and looking more than a little distraught. Before he could ask if everything was alright, Morgan came dashing up next to y/n and placed a hand on her back asking in his husky voice, “Everything alright, y/n? What’s going on?” Morgan was panting too as he had run up the stairs when he’d seen y/n come out of her room the way she had.
y/n cleared her throat and forced herself to visibly relax and take a breath before saying, “It’s nothing really, just a bad bug. Sorry, I might have overreacted.” Hearing this Derek let out a large laugh and said, “Wow, you really had me scared there for a second. Who knew that you could be scared by a bug? You’re always so stoic, y/n.” Hotch watched y/n laugh, but he could tell it was fake. Morgan continued, “What was it y/n? A spider or a scorpion? Want me to get it for you?” y/n smiled at the ground and said, “Nah, it’s fine. Thanks for the offer, Morgan. I was just surprised when I opened the bathroom door is all.” Derek shook his head and said, “Alright, well if you find any more nasty surprises in your room you just give me a call and I’ll sort it out for you.” y/n nodded and said, “Will do, Derek. You’re the best.” Morgan nodded and gave y/n a pat on the back and then moved past Hotch to get to his own room.
Aaron caught that y/n hadn’t elaborated on what the bug species was, and he noticed that she seemed to greatly relax once Morgan had made a joke of the whole situation which was clearly adversely affecting her. Once Derek was in his room, Hotch checked in saying, “What was it, y/l/n?” y/n’s head snapped up as if she’d forgotten he was there. y/n dropped her eyes to the ground again and said, “I don’t want to say it Hotch.” Aaron nodded and gently replied, “Does it start with an ‘r?’” y/n cringed but nodded yes. Aaron let out a breath and said, “You want me to get it for you?” After a moment, y/n looked up at Hotch, and he could see that she was embarrassed for being in this situation in the first place. Hotch moved a hand to y/n’s elbow and said, “y/n, I don’t mind. I know they’re gross.” Finally y/n looked at him and said, “Okay. Thanks, Aaron.” Hotch nodded and stepped inside. He kept his eyes mostly trained on the open bathroom door which light was spilling out of. He couldn’t help himself from seeing some of y/n’s more private clothing items on the bed before he moved his eyes safely to the stained carpet.
In the bathroom, the roach was comfortably hanging out on the wall near the sink. It was like the bug sensed Aaron’s presence and quickly and unnervingly moved off the wall and toward the shower. Hotch grabbed a handful of toilet paper to get the bug. He pulled back the clear plastic shower curtain and the roach moved again to the nearest dark corner. Aaron didn’t like these bugs either. It was something about the way they moved that freaked him out slightly, but he was older, and a man, and he didn’t mind doing this for y/n if it made her feel better. With a decisive move from his hand, Aaron caught the bug in the white paper and he didn’t pay attention as the bug’s body made a crunching sound as he closed his hand around the paper. He quickly threw the chitinous corpse into the toilet and flushed it away before closing the lid and stepping back through the room. He scanned the room to make sure there weren’t any more surprise bugs and he noticed the shattered lamp which y/n must have tipped over when she ran from the room. He strode across to the side of the bed, picked up the small trashcan, and moved back to the shattered pieces of the lamp.
Aaron didn’t notice as y/n, who had been standing at the threshold of the room dropped her hands from covering her mouth, as she chewed on her nails, a nervous tick of hers, and back to her sides. She walked back into the room and next to Hotch and said, “Hotch, you don’t need to do that. I can sort it out. I’m sorry.” Aaron finished picking up the largest parts of the lamp, careful not to cut his hands on any of the glass. Only after he had finished this did he stand and say, “It’s not a bother, y/n. I’m happy to help. You should call the front office and have someone come and get the rest of the glass this morning, and if you use the restroom in the middle of the night, at least what’s left of it, make sure to wear shoes.” y/n nodded timidly, and exhausted and tried not to think about Hotch thinking about her moving around her room in the middle of the night. “Thanks again,” she said as Aaron moved to the door and shut it for the last time that night.
Once Hotch was out of the room, y/n lay back on the bed so tired that she thought she might fall asleep right then and there. She thanked her guardian angel that she hadn’t seen the bad bug before she’d taken off her pants, because she would have run outside her room with or without pants on, and the idea of Derek, and more significantly, Aaron, seeing her in her underwear, she’d never live it down. After a moment, y/n turned her head to the door which she’d need to lock, and then toward the bathroom, which she still needed to use before she could fully relax. But given the bug and its essence that was left of it, no matter how small, y/n didn’t want to go back to the bathroom. She didn’t want to leave the bed. If she was younger, she’d have tucked her legs into her chest and stayed there for the rest of the night with all the light burning until the dawn sun illuminated her room in shades of pink and orange. But she wasn’t that little girl anymore, and she did get up and lock the door. She did put on shoes, as Aaron had suggested which felt good. It was nice and meant no glass pierced the soles of her feet and it meant she was off the ground. y/n knew this was silly, a coping technique she’d built for herself over the years, but it did give her the strength to quickly wash her face, brush her teeth, and put patches on her acne. By the time this was done, y/n moved back to her bed, turned off the lights, and was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.
In his room, Aaron moved back to the bathroom and took a shower before getting under the covers. He looked at the ceiling and realized that he’d learned more about y/n in his interaction with her that evening than he had in their whole time as Unit Cheif and supervisor. He pondered if he was wrong for wanting to know more about y/n. Why she was so closed off? What it was that she had to hide. He couldn’t help himself for thinking it was funny that she didn’t like bugs, but he couldn’t blame her for it either. It was never fun to have unwanted company, human or otherwise. He fell into the oblivion of sleep with a look of shame and perhaps gratitude as y/n had let him go into her room and take care of her unwanted guest.
Aaron didn’t make many more discoveries about y/n until a month later when it was close to 5:00 p.m. and he was sitting in his office. There was a soft knock on his door and he looked up to see y/n peaking into his office. He sat up a bit straighter and said, “Come in, y/n. Do you have a question about something?” y/n shuffled into the room and kept looking at the floor before she finally raised her eyes and met his. He could see that she was biting the inside of her cheek before she said, “I have a favor to ask you if you’re willing. If it’s too much then no worries at all, you just seemed like the right person for this problem I’m having.” Hotch’s eyes widened in surprise. What could y/n possibly need from him that someone else couldn’t offer? He hoped his intrigue didn’t play out on his face as he motioned for the chair across from his desk and said, “Well, let me know what we’re dealing with and then I can let you know. Is it a work thing? Please tell me it’s not a Drake-type of situation again, is it?” He was concerned now and looked at y/n’s face closely for signs of distress.
Drake had been an agent, who was quickly reassigned to a small HQ in Seattle who had made some untoward comments toward other female agents, including y/n. It had been y/n who had gone to JJ, and JJ who had gone to him to reveal the whole situation. When Aaron heard this he got so angry that he stood, placed his hands on his desk to steady himself before he sat back down, and asked JJ to tell him everything she knew as he grew more and more disgusted by some of the male agents in the building. He’d taken the situation to HR and made sure that y/n nor any of the other female agents were named in the official complaint before going to Strauss and basically demanding a transfer for Drake or outright termination.
Aaron was thankful when y/n nodded her head no and said, “No, Sir. Nothing like that,” as she sat across from him. He pushed aside his laptop so that there wasn’t anything blocking their view and he waited for y/n to say what had brought her in. After a moment of silence y/n let out a breath and said, “It’s really silly, actually…” Hotch stopped her from continuing by leveling a friendly glare at y/n which made her stop and try again. y/n swallowed and said, “Well, last month there was a leak in my apartment that never got fully fixed. It was livable, but I think there’s mold in my unit now which I think has made me sick again and off again for the last two weeks. I need to get it tested, but I was wondering if there was something in my lease that I might use against my apartment complex to break my lease?” y/n looked over at Hotch. His large brown eyes only seemed more intense in the low light of his lamps. She knew he was listening to her, wanting all of the pieces of the puzzle she was trying to tell him so he could help her. That was one thing y/n loved about Aaron. He never ignored anyone on the team or anyone in need of help, and as much as she didn’t want to admit it, she needed some help. y/n continued by saying, “And, well, I’ve tried reading my lease a few times but it doesn’t make any sense to me. There is a clause about mold, but I can’t figure out the legal jargon. I was wondering if you could read it over for me if it’s not too big a bother.”
Hotch could see y/n rubbing her hands together softly on her legs, a self-soothing gesture she was prone to when y/n was stressed. He let out a little breath and said, “Of course I can, y/n. I’d be happy to help you.” He paused before adding, “I can also probably fix your leak issue while we work out the logistics of the lease. If there is mold, and you did get sick from it, there might be grounds for a civil suit, if you wanted to take legal action that is.” y/n’s face settled into one that was relaxed, and replied, “I’m not sure if I have the energy for that. I don’t even know if I have the energy to move. I’d just like to have the option. To know that I have an option.” Hotch nodded in understanding but didn’t say that. Instead, he stated, “Well, how about we set up a date for me to look over the lease and or your apartment if you want? I’m open this weekend if that works for you?” Hotch felt strange almost inviting himself into her home. He could easily read y/n’s lease in the office, but something told him not to.
Although Hotch was far from a Marxist he didn’t believe in bringing personal work into the office. He would happily take office work home, but not visa versa. Also, by throwing out an open date for him, which he didn’t often have, he hoped y/n would realize that he did want to help her, not only with her legal issues but with her apartment which was apparently falling apart and making her ill. The idea of that bothered him more than it should have. Aaron was forced from his own head when y/n said, “Yeah. That works for me. Um, what time would you like to come over?” Surprised that y/n would let him of all people, into her space he replied, “How about 9:30? Is that too early for you?” Again Aaron was faced with the fact that he hardly knew anything about y/n. Did she wake up late on the weekends like Reid? Did she work out like he and Morgan did? Did she go out with friends to brunch like Emily? Did she have a boyfriend or girlfriend to wake up to like JJ did every morning? Not all of this information about his teammates had just been told to him, but he knew it nonetheless, and being so bereft of details about y/n’s life made him feel like he knew nothing about her, even if that wasn’t true.
Aaron’s eyes moved up as y/n said, “Hotch, Hotch. 9:30 is great for me. Is it okay with you?” Hotch felt awkward having been caught unaware twice by y/n in the course of under an hour. Aaron replied, “Yes. Sorry, I’m distracted today, y/n. Can you text me your address and I’ll put it in my calendar?” y/n smiled and replied, “Sure thing, Hotch. Thank you for the help.” Aaron nodded and said, “Let me know if you need a place to crash before Saturday. I bet the Bureau can get you a hotel room or something. I don’t think staying in a place that might be making you sick is in the best interest of the department, or my agent.” y/n tried to hide her smile at Aaron’s concern for her. He was trying to mask it too, but not very well. She told him she’d let him know and left his office feeling better than she had in some time.
That Saturday was the first time that Aaron saw y/n’s apartment. As y/n walked him toward the AC unit that had been leaking, he tried to look around without it looking too obvious. His eyes scanned the kitchen and living room and then he moved into y/n’s small bedroom. They were chatting about their days so far, and as Aaron sat down on the floor, y/n handed him Philip’s head screwdriver to remove the grate from the crawl space below her AC. y/n asked, “So you really run five miles every Saturday morning? How do you deal with the heat? I’m tempted to just stay in all the time during summer.” Aaron let out a chuckle and said, “I think you build up the tolerance. And I wear a lot of sunscreen. They say fresh air is good for you, especially if you’re living in an apartment with mold.” Hotch had meant the statement as a joke, but when y/n didn’t laugh, he bit his tongue and hoped he hadn’t offended her. He didn’t mean to, but by the time he was formulating a response, he noticed the drip and the simple fix to the issue. An issue that the repairmen who had been there a few times already should have easily fixed weeks ago. He grunted slightly as he inched his way forward on his elbows with a wrench in one hand and a flashlight in the other.
This time in the small space did give him the opportunity to think about y/n’s place a bit more. It was old but decently maintained, and it was clean. When he’d done the walk to get to this part of the house, he hadn’t thought much about it. But now as he saw normal signs of an older building, cobwebs, stains, and dust, he realized he’d seen very little of that in y/n’s space. It was like the apartment was staged, waiting for the photographers to come from Architectural Digest to get their pictures and get her opinion on the Pantene color of the year. y/n didn’t have a lot of things. Her furnishings were sparse but looked comfortable enough. But inside, Aaron had the feeling that maybe somewhere, storage, the attic - there wasn’t one - a closet, there were boxes of things that gave meaning to y/n’s life that she’d neglected to put out or up. Hotch sighed as he tightened the bolt that was allowing water to drip down the side of y/n’s pipes. There were multiple spots like this. It would take a while and some maneuvering on his part, but Hotch didn’t mind. This reminded him of his first apartment in college, but that was much more of a mess. Living with three other guys, it was bound to happen, even if he kept his space relatively clean.
It took Hotch a few minutes to finish up the work on the leaks before he wriggled back into the bedroom. y/n extended a hand to him, and he took it as he stood with a small grunt. He was happy he hadn’t changed out of his workout clothes because being in such a confined space had made him even more sweaty. He rubbed a hand over his forehead and said, “Well, I think I have it all fixed down there, except for a small puddle from the leak. I can clean that up for you if you like.” y/n nodded her head no and said, “It’s fine, Hotch. You’ve done so much already, I can clean it up in a moment. I’m a bit, picky, with my cleaning habits.” Aaron nodded and said, “I get you. Reid is the same way.” y/n gave an understanding nod, and Hotch looked over y/n’s shoulder to the pictures neatly framed on y/n’s far wall. There were a few with y/n and some friends, maybe some from college and a few from her years in Paris. The photos had good composition even if they were only shot on an iPhone. Even though he had said it, Aaron knew Spencer wasn’t the same as y/n. They both cared for cleanliness, that was obvious, but there was something different about y/n that he couldn’t pin down. Some facts that he felt he was missing.
Aaron wiped his dusty hands on his shorts and y/n said, “Do you want to wash your hands? Who knows what kind of gross stuff is under there.” She eyes the open grate and Hotch replied, “Yes, please. It’s not actually that bad down there, just dust mainly.” He chose not to talk about the spider webs, given y/n’s aversion to bugs. He’d swept away the webs anyway so she wouldn’t have to see them. y/n pointed Hotch to the door of the bathroom and he stepped inside closing the door He took a minute to look at his reflection. He didn’t look as sweaty as he felt, which he was grateful for. ‘Why does it matter?’ Aaron asked himself as he rinsed off his hands and then added a generous amount of hand soap into his palms. As he lathered the soap and then rinsed it off Hotch tried to quell the thoughts which had subconsciously been growing since he’d seen y/n looking frightened at the motel. If he tried hard enough, he could play them off in his head as protective, a fatherly gesture, but in his spirit, he knew this wasn’t true. Hotch dried his hand and pushed his hair around a bit until he liked how it sat. His ego nudged him whispering, ‘Vanity, Hotchner.” He snorted slightly and left the bathroom before he could get more in his head about his appearance. That wasn’t the point of him being here in the first place.
By the time Aaron stepped back into y/n’s room, she had added three of the four screws back on the grate and into the wall covering the gaping hole that had been there. y/n looked up at him and smiled as she said, “Well now that you’ve helped me fix the leak I don’t think I have a reason to sue the landlord.” Hotch pressed his lips together before replying, “Well that might be true, but I think if your apartment is using a subcontractor for maintenance you could sue them for not knowing how to do their jobs.” y/n chuckled but as a big fan of not having any extra confrontation in her life, she didn’t think she’d be taking Hotch up on that offer. Instead, she asked, “Could I pay you back with a coffee, Hotch? There’s a good spot two blocks over. I was going to go there anyway to hang out for a bit.” Before the logical or even aware part of Aaron’s mind could respond he said, “You don’t mind going out with me looking like this?” His self-consciousness side blurted out what he was trying to avoid thinking in the bathroom. For a second Aaron felt like chucking himself out y/n’s bedroom window as he internally cringed so hard that his stomach hurt.
y/n took a moment to process what Aaron had said and she stopped herself from scratching the back of her head in confusion. “‘You don’t mind going out with me looking like this?’” What the hell did that even mean? Did Hotch know how he looked? How her seeing him in something that wasn’t a suit had almost taken her breath away and sped up her heart rate three times past normal? She had thought as he worked on her AC, his body half buried in the wall, ‘He could send out a warning if he’s not going to show up in a suit. Good god, give a girl one chance not to be fucking lusting over her boss.’ She had been embarrassed by the thought, as Hotch clearly was embarrassed now. To not make the situation any more strange than it was and tried humor saying, “You mean like a guy wearing shorts and a Nike shirt?” y/n never knew if jokes would work with Aaron. He seemed to have a very sharp wit and she never knew where jokes would land with him. Thankfully this one worked and Hotch let out one of his rare laughs, shaking his head slightly at his inability to keep unwanted thoughts in. At least he hadn’t made a comment about y/n, who he thought looked lovely in her more relaxed outfit. After a moment of silence, he blinked and said, “Well alright then. You lead the way, though your apartment should be paying you for having to deal with this.” y/n chuckled and grabbed her purse as Hotch got his keys and wallet from the counter. They spent the next half hour chatting comfortably about work or people in the office, and whatever came up naturally. It was pleasant for both of them to just be allowed to relax in the presence of the other for once. When they had finished, Aaron thought for a moment that he understood y/n better. He did, but the most enlightening thing he would learn about y/n would come later in the year, and when it did, it hit Hotch like a load of bricks.
It was September, and the weather was just starting to get cool in Virginia. The crispness of the air had the team in mostly good spirits. The latest cases had been easier. Hotch was sipping his coffee from a cup Jack had given him for Father’s Day last year when there was a knock on his office door. He looked up from the rim of his cup to see y/n pop into the room and close the door behind her. After he’d helped her with her apartment, she had been more relaxed around him, and came to him every now and then with questions she still had about past cases or current files the team was supposed to do. The forms were often asinine and useless you’d been working in the department for years. Every time y/n made an appearance, Hotch had to settle himself and act calmly. It reminded him so much of the first time y/n had asked him for a favor. When she had been a new agent and afraid to disappoint him and the rest of the team. But this time was different and he could tell. This wasn’t y/n being shy to ask for help, or ‘checking in on him’ as she said when she had no reason to be in his office but inexplicably wanted to be there anyway. When y/n stepped in there was no attempt at a dad-joke. Instead, she was looking at his carpeted floor and there was an aurora of burden that came with her.
Hotch was up and out of this chair before the words, “What’s happened, y/n?” left his mouth. y/n swallowed dryly and looked up at Aaron. He could see her eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot. y/n sniffled and stepped forward, leaning against the edge of Aaron’s desk as she said the easy part first, “I need some time off. A week or so, maybe more.” Hotch nodded his head in understanding saying, “Of course, you can get all the time you need. Can you tell me what happened, please?” There was silence, and y/n looked at her hands as she shakily replied, “My mom died yesterday. She made me the executor of her estate, so I need to go down to her house and work some things out with her will.” Hotch moved from his side of the desk to y/n’s and gently wrapped her in a hug. He could feel her shaking against him. He held her without much force, just giving her something softer to cling to than the sharp edge of his oak desk. y/n was grateful that Aaron had moved to this position. That she didn’t have to look at his face which was filled with worry. And she could not only hide her sadness but also her shame in the crook of his neck and shoulder. After a comfortable amount of time, y/n stood back and asked, “Can I leave now, or do you want me to stay till the EOD?” Hotch’s grip on y/n’s arms tightened slightly as he looked down at her and said, “Of course, you can leave now. I’ll send HR a memo. The team will help you if you want y/n. I’ll help you with anything you need. You just have to ask.”
y/n sniffled and ran her hand under her nose which she knew was unbecoming of a federal agent, but she was past spent and decorum had seemed to go out the back door with the news that she would need to return to her childhood home. A place she had avoided for many years now. Her behavior repulsed her, expanded by her sense of shame. She didn’t want anyone with her for this. No one could see, and no one on the team could know. Still looking down, y/n said, “Thank you, Hotch. Can you just tell the team that a family emergency came up? This situation, it’s, it’s private, and I think I need some time to just get my head around it.”
Hotch nodded in understanding. He had had moments when the rug had absolutely been ripped from underneath him. Aaron felt that there was something more going on, but he knew now was not the time to pry. Instead, he said, “Yes, of course, y/n. Can you just send me the address of the spot you’ll be staying at so I can give it to HR. They’ll ask you for it anyway, so if you let me know I can help you skip that step.” y/n looked at Hotch and said, “Sure Hotch. Thanks. I’m just going to get my stuff and go.” Aaron let y/n go and he watched her walk to his door, turn, and raise a hand half-heartedly before saying, “Thanks,” one more time and slipping out the door as quietly as she had come in.
Hotch felt a tug at his chest. There was a small feeling of dread that he couldn’t not feel after y/n had left the room which made it hard for him to do anything else than send the forms to HR on y/n’s behalf. He leaned back in his chair and heaved a sigh. He hadn’t once heard y/n talk about her parents. He knew that they had existed. It was on her transfer paper and application to the BAU. Clearly, the government had to know pretty much everything about a person to hire them into the inner ranks. But unlike Reid and Morgan, and occasionally Emily, y/n didn’t relegate any details about family around the team. He had always pictured her as an island, alone. At that moment Aaron decided that he would check in on y/n often in her absence. He hoped it wouldn’t ruin the trust they had slowly built between them, but his conscious wouldn’t let him not make sure she was okay because something inside him told him there was more going on here than simple grief. That feeling only grew worse as three days passed and y/n didn’t answer any of his calls and only one of his texts asking if she was okay, or if she needed anything. He’d offered to send her food, or coffee, or anything to her hotel, but there had just been one text: “Sorry Hotch, I’m too busy to think about this right now, thanks for the offer, I’ll take you up on it once I have more finished.”
On the fourth day, a Saturday, Hotch couldn’t take the silence anymore. He knew he was pushing it, but he had y/n’s hotel address and the address of her mom’s house because she said she’d be at both pretty often working on things. Aaron thought it was absurd that the FBI still asked for a mailing address when someone went on leave. It was like asking for a fax number when everyone had a cell phone in their pocket. That was what made y/n’s non-response so jarring. As Aaron put the second address into his GPS, he was surprised to see that it was only a forty-five-minute drive away. He considered that y/n probably could have stayed at her apartment if she wanted to, but as Aaron got further from the city and into the exurbs, past the exurbs even to roads in disrepair, closed CVS’s franchises, and mobile homes, he realized that this juxtaposition from the luxury and safety of the city to this could be exhausting apart from all the emotions and work she was doing. Aaron wasn’t exactly surprised by what he saw as he got further and further away from Quantico. He knew the makeup of Southwestern Virginia, but the poverty of the area never failed to make him take a hard look at what had once been a thriving community. He didn’t want this part of y/n’s past to affect how he saw her. Not that he’d ever judge her for living in a place like this, but with her life being so guarded, he couldn’t help but make assumptions about why she had remained quiet so often.
When Hotch got the the far edge of one of the many trailer and mobile home parks it was easy to find y/n even if she hadn’t answered his two calls that morning. The only thing Aaron needed to see, y/n’s old car, was parked outside of the mobile home at the far edge of the plot. There was no house number or mailbox to indicate he was at the right place, but he knew he was. He parked beside y/n’s car and stepped out of his. As he walked closer to the house and locked his car doors he noticed the very rundown state of affairs at the domicile. Most of the windows were covered with cardboard and mildew was creeping up the edge of the fake wood siding of the housing. A few feet away from the front screened door the small assaulted his nostrils and he had to take a few deep breaths through his mouth to stop from being ill. The scent was distinctly one of rot, waste, and decay. With his arm over his mouth, Aaron wondered if y/n’s mother had died and been found a few days or perhaps a week after she had been deceased. The thought appalled him for y/n’s sake, and the idea of her being inside the home made him quicken his steps to see what was going on.
Aaron moved up the two cracked and chipped concrete steps. He knocked on the gnarled screen door. y/n had kept the inner glass door open to get better air circulation of air in the room. Hotch swallowed and softly shouted, “y/n? y/n, are you in there? It’s Aaron.” The sound seemed to be absorbed into the house, the doors gaping mouth sucking everything into its blackness. The inside of the house was dim. Hotch couldn’t see any lights on and there seemed to be piles of stuff near the door half blocking it. Before Hotch stepped inside he thought that maybe the piles of boxes might be y/n packing up her mother’s things to get rid of or sell. However, after a minute of y/n not answering, Aaron decided to move inside the home and realized he was wrong. Hotch had to open the door and slide through the opening sideways to fit around the boxes which he realized were a fire hazard right away. As he was about to call to y/n again, Aaron’s eyes adjusted to the room and the words died on his lips.
The front room of the small mobile home was filled with stuff. Boxes upon boxes were piled on top of each other. Many of which seemed to be growing mold or deteriorating. The boxes at the bottom were falling apart and yellowed or brown. The floors were also filthy, sticky, and littered with debris. As Aaron moved his way carefully further into the room he couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by the sheer number of things around him. Not only were the boxes and trash overwhelming, but the scent had gotten considerably worse now that he was inside. After Hotch passed another pile of boxes, papers, and files he noticed that in the far corner was a couch which had one cushion cleared of garbage. It was the only clear spot he had seen in the house at all. Not that the couch cushion was clean, it was stained and smelled, but it didn’t have stuff on it. Aaron was coming to the realization of what y/n had grown up around as he rounded the corner into the kitchen area.
This space was different and yet the same as the rest of the house. In the kitchen the windows weren’t covered up, so there was more natural light which highlighted the clutter even more. This clutter also wasn’t in boxes. It was on the counters and piled in all of the corners and crevices. The scent of rot was so bad here as boxes of discarded food, possibly years old sat on counters and in the sink. There were plates and cups forgotten and even as Hotch surveyed the disgusting scene he could tell there were bugs festering in the piles of rotting paper plates and unfinished coffee cups. There was one trash bag, half full of stuff sitting on top of one of the piles, but that was the only sign of life that Aaron could sense. From how bad the hoarding looked, he assumed that this had been going on for years, if not multiple decades.
Hotch was fully in the kitchen and had almost forgotten why he was there. He was so surprised by what he was seeing that when y/n, who was very confused as to why her boss was inside her deceased mom’s house, rounded the corner, she was startled at his presence. Aaron whipped around effectively knocking a pile of things off of the metal folding table onto the floor. He watched as if in slow motion as a glass half of a puss-colored liquid crashed to the ground and broke. It seemed so loud in the small confines of the house that seemed to absorb all sounds into its piles of decay. He and y/n looked at the mess he’d made for a half second before a number of bugs, bugs that Aaron knew y/n didn’t like scurried out from the pile on the floor, and from the kitchen counters and onto the walls. y/n saw the bugs as clearly as Hotch and nearly jumped out of her skin swatting and brushing herself, afraid that some had gotten on her. Her breath had picked up and Hotch could see that y/n might be sick. Hotch’s instincts kicked in and he didn’t even apologize or explain why he was there. He simply knew that he had to get y/n out of this house. As far away as he possibly could. He stepped forward ignoring the retreating bugs looking for cover in some other dark corner of the room, took y/n’s arm in his, and started leading her toward the front door. y/n was trying to say something to him, ask him a question perhaps, but the blood was pumping in his ears and his heart was thumping in his chest. He’d answer any questions y/n had once they were outside.
Aaron didn’t care that some boxes fell as he pushed the pile in front of the door out of the way. He could feel y/n shaking now and he wrenched open the screen door and followed her out, down the stairs, and into the front yard. y/n was still shaking and patting herself down like she might explode into flames while looking for bugs. Hotch stepped forward assertively and stilled her hands as he thoroughly brushed her off from her arms and shoulders, then down her chest and legs. He then moved to her back and did the same thing. When he did find a bug, he brushed it off and didn’t say a thing about it. When he got back to y/n’s front, she was breathing harshly through her teeth but seemed to calm down as she asked, “What are you doing here, Hotch?”
Hotch looked at y/n and her eyes were telling him two stories. One was logical, “Is there a case? Did something bad happen? Do you need help?” and the other was everything else, “I didn’t want you here, go away, can’t you see what I’m going through?” Aaron felt terrible for how this had ended. He hadn’t expected this, but he knew the best answer was the truth, so he said, “I was worried about you,” and nothing else. y/n sniffled and wrapped her arms around herself before looking over Aaron’s shoulder and into the house. y/n spoke the truth too, Hotch could always tell when she was lying: “I didn’t want anyone to see this.” Aaron swallowed and nodded, replying, “I know. I’m sorry.” He hadn’t known of course, but now he did, and all he could do was apologize.
y/n composed herself. Putting her emotions back into all the boxes where they belonged and stood waiting for Hotch to say or do something. She knew if she started whatever conversation was about to happen she’d break, and she never wanted that. It was the thing that she had learned since leaving home; her secret weapon. Lie, tell half-truths, don’t show your emotions. Don’t let them know where you come from or who you really are, because if they knew, they’d never understand or give a damn about you. Slightly delusionally, y/n hoped that Aaron would get back into his car and leave, pretending he hadn’t seen anything. That he didn’t know her secret, and when she came back from leave, he wouldn’t say anything. He was kind, maybe he’d forget for her sake?
Aaron watched the emotions play across her face like a silent film star on the big screen. It was only a series of seconds before y/n was back to the person he knew. The silence was intense and instead of leading with his emotions, Hotch tried to think logically. He assumed if he went from the heart he’d say something or ask a question that would distance y/n from him forever. So instead he asked the first logical question that came to mind, “Have you been in the house long?” Hotch was concerned that y/n might get sick again, this time from real mold and whatever other bad things inside the home, though his brain could think of little else apart from y/n not only as a child but an adult in such squalor.
y/n’s soft, “No” had him relax. One thing was for sure, if he could avoid it, he wouldn’t be having y/n go back in there. Hotch looked back at y/n as she continued speaking, “I’ve mostly been in my hotel looking over the legal documents and trying to set my mom’s debts in order. And arrange some kind of funeral, though I doubt people will show up. She was kind of a recluse near the end of her life.” Aaron nodded along, grateful that she hadn’t spent much time here. He looked around the yard, unwilling to leave y/n here in this state, but also awkward about how he’d discovered this part of her past that she had so desperately hidden away like the trash inside. Aaron composed his next sentence carefully and asked, “Is there anything important that you need inside? Any of your mom’s documents, or items that have value?” Hotch tried to sound sincere in his words. He meant them, but with so much stuff inside, most of it looking like garbage, he knew it could come off as sounding condescending or like a joke.
y/n thought for a moment, shifting uncomfortably on her feet before saying, “All the important stuff is out like her documents and stuff. I really should go back in and start cleaning. I rented a dumpster out back for the week and it’s not going to fill itself.” Hotch appreciated that y/n was trying to be lighthearted through this, but he shook his head no, replying, “I’ll hire someone to come and clean up. y/n. I don’t want you going back in there.” He didn’t phrase it like a command. On this account, he had no authority apart from his care and growing feelings for y/n.
At Aaron’s offer, y/n looked back at the house from which she had fled so many times. Could this be the last time? Could she walk away and never look back? Never feel like she was slowly being buried alive by junk and trinkets and trash? She took a breath of clean air and considered that maybe she could. Maybe this was the end she had been dreaming of for so long. Maybe someone had finally come to save her from this hell. As she was about to turn around and say, “Yes, please. Let’s do that,” to Aaron, a single item crossed y/n’s mind and she paused. She looked up at Aaron and truly asked for help for the first time in a long time. “There’s a stuffed rabbit inside. It’s in my room I think. Could you get it for me?” In asking this of Aaron, she was opening herself to him almost wholly. It was an invitation for him to see all of the parts of herself that she had hidden. It was the chance to be ridiculed as she had by friends in childhood who came over and saw how she lived. It was the chance for men, older men, to not even come inside and leave her mother sobbing in the front yard. y/n was already swallowing back the tears when Aaron would say no and leave her. It was all too much for most people. It had been too much for her too. She wouldn’t blame Aaron as he drove away to something safe. To a clean apartment and shower. To a son who loved him. To someone who was no longer his wife, but someone who still cared. Given that choice, how can you pick the former?
“Where’s the bunny? Is it a certain color?” The questions almost knocked y/n off her feet. She took in more air before saying, “It’s in the very back room. It used to be my bedroom. It’s pink with a white nose and long floppy ears.” Aaron nodded, shaking off his coat, ready to go back inside. As he moved past y/n, she grabbed his arm and said, “You don’t have to do this Hotch. It may not even be in there.” They both looked at the home and this time Aaron tried to be optimistic as he said, “y/n, do you really think your mom got rid of your childhood stuffie?” y/n couldn’t help but laugh at the ludicrous question. She let Hotch go and watched as he entered the house while her heart was trying to figure out what to do with itself. Since she had heard the news of her mom’s passing, she was on the precipice of a very high and ragged cliff face. All she would have to do was fall and everything would be over, but Aaron was like the pair of strong arms that held her back. Asking if this was what she really wanted.
Aaron went back into the house once more trying to ignore the smell. He carefully pushed past the kitchen and into the narrow hallway. There was hardly room for him to squeeze his broad frame though. He found himself coughing a lot as particulate matter got into his system. Once out of the darkened hallway, he moved to the final door at the end of the home, peaking into the two other rooms, the main bedroom and the bathroom which were somehow worse than the front of the house. The farther he got back the more the trash piled up. He paid no mind to what was on the floor or what he was stepping on or over to get y/n what she needed to be rid of this place. He’d have to look up hoarding more thoroughly now. He’d been to a few homes on cases in the past where it had seemed to be an issue, he’d even had to call CPS on one family so they would get their act together. However, this was the worst case he’d ever seen, and he could only imagine what it was like growing up in an environment like this. Hotch had so many questions he felt like asking, so many ideas running through his mind, but he knew he’d have to be sensitive. Now was not a time for an interrogation. Now was the moment to remind y/n that he would support her. That he could be there for her, and if he couldn’t say the other things he might want to, the things he kept hidden himself, the least he could do was that.
Hotch had to push open the door harshly to get into the back room. It was so dark inside that Aaron pulled out his phone and turned the flashlight on. This sent multiple bugs and what Hotch assumed was a small rat scampering into the dark. Aaron was surprised at how overwhelmed he could be by this problem, but even being in the house for a few minutes had him desperate for space and clean air. y/n’s apartment made total sense to him now. There was no clear path in this room and Hotch moved over whatever he needed to to get to the far wall. Under a window that was also covered with cardboard, he found a twin bed. It was mostly clear of stuff apart from the detritus in the room and he wondered if y/n or her mother had kept that one space clean. He was thankful to see the stuffed animal was on the center of the bed, old and stained brown by some substance of unknown origins. Aaron picked it up and moved as quickly and carefully as he could back out of the house. He attempted to look like he wasn’t running out of the place to not make y/n feel worse about his being there, but there was no hiding that once he was outside he felt so much better. He drank in the air like water and had a final fit of coughing before he moved toward y/n.
The very sight of Aaron with her old stuffed animal had y/n near tears again. She could have lived without it, but it had been a single constant in her life and it was a reminder of everything she’d lived through. Having it felt like a trophy: “I made it. I’m here. Look at where I am now.” As soon as Hotch handed the bunny over with his long arms, and once y/n’s hands were around the worn-out toy whose fur was all but gone where she had hugged it as a child, she broke. There was nothing or no one that could have stopped her from pulling the rabbit to her chest and crumbling to the ground with sobs that wracked her body so hard that it hurt to breathe. Hotch watched as she crumbled to the ground and he ran forward trying to catch y/n, but she slipped out of his grasp like oil. y/n was curled in on herself and shaking and Hotch bit the inside of his lip. He moved slowly, not going to make any surprise moves on y/n’s fragile mental state, as he lowered himself to the ground. Once on his knees, Aaron leaned forward and placed one of his large hands on y/n’s back. She didn’t pull back from his touch, either too overwhelmed to do so, or comforted by him. Either way, after a moment Hotch leaned in further and covered her more with his body, anchoring her to something other than the ground and herself.
It felt like a long time, like forever until y/n’s cries weakened and her breathing evened out. y/n let her body relax slightly, exhausted by her outburst. There were so many things y/n wanted to say to Aaron about how she was behaving. She figured this type of volatility could get her kicked off of the BAU, which is one reason she’d not wanted anyone’s help with this situation. She wanted to apologize but all she could say was the question that had been plaguing her for years, “Do you know what it feels like to have someone that’s supposed to love you chose absolutely shitty worthless trash over you? Do you know what that’s like Hotch?” y/n had spoken so softly that it was hard for Aaron to understand her, but the existential ache in her voice was one he knew well and he replied honestly, “No, y/n. I don’t, and I’m sorry you have to ask questions like that to yourself.” There was another loaded pause and y/n let herself go fully limp. Hotch hadn’t left yet and there was nothing left to lose if she just let go for a moment. She’d spent her energy, there was nothing left to give. Hotch supported y/n’s body, never letting it fully lay on the ground. He looked over her and said softly, “Let me get you to your hotel, y/n. Or just away from here, okay?”
y/n nodded and Hotch helped her to her feet. She leaned on him heavily. Letting him take her anywhere but here. The pair was moving toward Aaron’s car when they stopped. y/n looked up from the ground to see what the issue was and why they had stopped. As soon as she saw who was approaching them, she froze. Went absolutely stiff as a board, and if Aaron hadn’t been there she would have fallen over, but her hands gripped onto his shoulder like a vice and she could feel him flinch but not move away.
Aaron saw the man walking their way slightly later than he’d liked. He was leading y/n toward his car. He was going to take her to the hotel and try and get some food and water in her before making any more suggestions. But this new man, though he seemed harmless could pose a problem to him getting them out of there as fast as possible. The approaching figure walked with a limp and was probably about fifteen years older than Hotch. When he stopped he could feel y/n stop too, bumping into him slightly. He could feel her eyes lift past his shoulder where y/n’s hand was resting and the change in demeanor was so drastic that he could feel it. The coldness and stiffness radiating off y/n signaled her discomfort along with her harsh grip on his body. Instinctually he moved in front of y/n. Whoever this guy was, he was bad news. Hotch’s protective stance didn’t stop the man from walking about a foot from them and saying in a weak voice, “y/n. Is that you? It’s hard to believe it’s you. I haven’t seen you in years.” The man spoke like Aaron wasn’t even there, and there was an awkward pause when y/n should have responded back in some way but didn’t. That didn’t stop the man from continuing like nothing odd was happening here and saying, “I heard about your mother, y/n. I’m sorry… I just wanted to come over here and let you know.” y/n’s grip tightened on his shoulder even more but he didn’t grimace, and when y/n replied in a voice so void that he wouldn’t believe she was there if she wasn’t holding him so tight, “I’m sure you are,” Aaron knew something terrible had happened between them. No one sounded like y/n without it, whatever it was, it was bad.
That was when the flip switched on in Hotch and he moved in front of y/n totally blocking her from view. If looks could kill the man in front of Hotch would have been found in cardiac arrest so bad that it seemed medically impossible. Aaron didn’t say anything, he didn’t need to as the man finally noticed his presence and almost wilted on site. The man opened his mouth and extended his hand out a millimeter but then just as quickly shut his chapped lips and turned on his heel moving as fast as she could without it looking like an outright sprint toward another building further in the neighborhood.
Once the man was out of sight, Aaron moved y/n to his car and opened the door for her. She slipped into the passenger seat and was back to her early state in the BAU. When she would lose all affect. Hotch helped buckle her in and then got in on the driver’s side. He started the car and turned on the AC, it had gotten surprisingly warm and Hotch felt flushed and he couldn’t tell if it was from anger or something else. The pair didn’t talk during the ten-minute drive to y/n’s hotel. However, Hotch looked over at y/n every now and then to make sure she was still with him. It felt like if he didn’t stay tuned in on her she might slip away to a place he’d never be able to find her again. At the hotel, Hotch asked y/n what her room number was and she said, “251” and handed over her key fob. Hotch took it in his hand and led y/n inside and up to her room. If a stranger walked past them they might think something sketchy was going down. y/n looked drugged from her state and Aaron was like someone taking advantage of that opportunity. But there was no one there to see them, and for that, Hotch was grateful.
y/n slumped into bed and Hotch sat down on the edge of the mattress. He knew that he needed to give y/n space. To let her rest and recover herself from what must have been a terrible day even though it had only been an hour that he’d been with her. He’d ask her if she’d like him to leave or stay, but first, he asked, “y/n, who was that guy?” For the first time since they’d gotten to the hotel room, y/n looked at Aaron and said in a whisper, “Don’t make me say it, Aaron. Please…” Hotch needed and put his hand on her shoulder and nodded. He didn’t need to know. Inside he knew, and he realized in that moment he wasn’t leaving y/n alone. Not ever; she’d been alone for too long and he’d help her change that if she wanted that.
It wasn’t until a few months later, when the air had cleared and the skies stopped looking perpetually gray that y/n told Aaron what he had asked months ago. This was after they had been dating for a while. He knew almost everything about her now. He had found out the main source of her shame and after that there had been little to hide from him, thus beginning a relationship had been natural. She had asked him many times why he came that day and his answers varied, but the theme was consistent. “I was worried about you. I had a bad feeling. I just needed to be there,” and whatever other motivation Hotch might have had conscious or not y/n didn’t question them. He’d come when she had needed someone and now as they were laying next to each other, in their pajamas and a sheet over them she’d tell him the rest.
y/n rolled on her side and ran her hand down Aaron’s sharp jawline. His stubble was slightly growing out, and she knew he’d shave it later that day. His dark eyes found hers and a hint of a smile on his face. y/n said, “Hotch, you once asked about that guy, in my mom’s neighborhood. Do you still want to know?” Hotch’s eyelids closed slightly. He was thinking through this offer. It wouldn’t change anything about how he thought about y/n. He had the utmost respect for y/n and how she had handled her life after all the terrible situations she’d lived through. And this would be no different. He knew he’d respect y/n for how she’d acted in whatever situation she had been put in, but his response wouldn’t change. Because of that he honestly replied, “y/n, if it would bring you peace and make you feel better then I’d like you to tell me. If it would make you feel bad or change anything then I don’t need to know. I’d like to know, but there are parts of ourselves that can stay hidden if it’s for the best. I trust you to know what’s best.”
y/n had a feeling this would be the response from Aaron. He always was so considerate of her and her past. She knew that even though Hotch said he wouldn’t look at her differently, there was the nagging feeling in her mind, that was always in her mind, that the truth would push whoever she was with away. And even if it was slightly selfish, y/n loved Aaron so much that if she had to lose him, then she’d rather be the one to cut the cord sooner rather than latery/n let out a deep breath and said, “I’d like to tell you.” y/n paused before adding, “I’ve never told this to anyone before, so if I get confused or it sounds weird, I’m sorry.” Hotch nodded with understanding. He placed his hand on y/n’s arm and looked at her with encouragement.
y/n got that far-away look in her eyes as she did when she thought about the far-away past. However, he could tell that she wasn’t fully immersed in the memories as her thumb glided over his knuckles. Aaron wondered if it was too painful to fully go back there, but either way, he was ready to listen. y/n took a shallow breath and said, “My mom’s… problems… have always been there. She used to tell me that it had nothing to do with me. I got that, or I tried to, but even if the hoarding wasn’t about me, it still affected me. It still made me smell funny and made it hard to do homework, or hard to eat any normal meals. When I was very young I just assumed everyone lived like we did because we were pretty isolated.” There was a break as y/n bit the inside of her lip as she decided how to continue. When she had her timeline as clear as her mind would allow, she continued her story: “When I got old enough to go to school I had a real wake-up call and I figured out that what I was living wasn’t ‘normal’ as I had believed. This meant that I got out more often, which I was glad about and I joined as many clubs and sports as possible to stay away from home. But I was like, eleven, so there weren’t a ton of options and we were poor, but I did what I could.
This was a blessing and a curse because I made some friends, but I never told anyone about what it was like at home. It was too embarrassing for me. My absence and meeting new people gave my mom time alone to buy more stuff without me around and it gave her a chance to meet some new people too. You know my soccer coach, or drama friends mom’s and dad’s.” Aaron nodded. y/n was slowing down, which he sensed meant that the story was going to get harder to tell from then. y/n swallowed and continued, “Mom started bringing guys around, drinking and stuff, but none of them would stay once they saw what her place was like, and I don’t blame them. Then one day one of your neighbors, that man that talked to me when you were at my mom’s house was over. I found them together more and more at home, so I thought they had a thing. I was surprised that he stuck around. Rumors fly in that type of environment. One day when the house was really really bad he told me I could spend some time with him at his place if I wanted somewhere clean to study.” Hotch’s brows pulled together. He’d heard these stories time and time again and the pit in his stomach balled into a knot.
“I thought he was being nice, at first. It was nice for a while, but he, you know, he made me pay him back for his kindness. Aaron pulled y/n into a tight hug and whispered, “I’m sorry, y/n. I’m so sorry.” There was a tense pause before Hotch asked, “Did you ever tell your mom?” y/n tensed and he knew this was the point that was tormenting her. Not that any of what she had said before wasn’t incredibly inhuman and cruel, but there were strong feelings attached to what was coming next. y/n was silent as she nodded her head yes. She sobbed into his chest and rasped out, “I did tell her after it got bad. She… she didn’t believe me. She didn’t want to believe me, because that man was someone who was willing to live and sleep with her delusions. I was the price of that relationship.” Hotch nuzzled his nose into her shoulder and whispered, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” over and over again like a lullaby. After y/n had soothed slightly, she said, “I never told anyone else, Aaron. I let it fester, and I was scared. But… what if he hurt other people after me? Other kids? I can’t live with that. This job, our job, I thought it would make my guilt feel better, but no matter how hard I try it doesn’t go away.”
Aaron pulled up a bit and wiped away y/n’s tear-stained face. Her eyes were red-rimmed and so sad. Hotch shook his head and said, “y/n, you were a child. So many people failed you. I imagine you were clinging to what you knew. The only thing you knew. No one can blame you for that, and if they do, that’s on them. I am so sorry that no one was there to protect you then. I’m here now, no one, no one will ever hurt you like that again, and if you want to talk more about this, I’m ready to hear you. If you want comfort, I’m here. If you want to speak to someone, a therapist, or a lawyer, I’m here. I’m here,” Hotch echoed again making sure she knew that she’d never be put in that place again. As long as he was alive, it would never happen again. y/n relaxed against him. She felt so much lighter having said everything. She knew Aaron, and she knew he was speaking the truth - he was there for her and he would be as long as she wanted him to be. Aaron, despite his flaws, was committed, and he didn’t give up on things. y/n rested her hand against his heart and felt it beating under her palm, steady like he was, and for the first time in over a decade, she had nothing to hide from someone she cared for.
Hotch was sure to be careful with this new information y/n had shared with him. He had an even keel and he kept his promises. He had even more respect for y/n than before, and he treated her the same with that new knowledge. He knew that if he made a big deal of y/n’s situation that was not what she wanted. Like all things with their relationship, they took time with each other, letting what needed to happen do so in due time. However, even though Hotch could treat y/n with the same love, the knowledge of the man’s actions who had harmed her so severely ate at him. Not only that, but that he had seen him. That the man who had tormented someone so young and innocent was still walking around free of repercussions started a small seed of darkness in his spirit.
Aaron normally didn’t let cases get to him, but whenever there were children involved he could only imagine Jack and now a young version of y/n in the same situation. Sometimes he dreamed of the man he’d seen in the trailer park. Dreamed of him dying in various ways. He knew it wasn’t good. He knew he couldn’t let him affect him this much, but there was no stopping the hatred that was growing in his heart. After a while, Hotch had researched the man and found out where he worked, and his criminal record. It was no shock that he had a long list of pretty crimes one of assault and battery. Aaron was always shocked by the freedom of information. It took him two days to find all of this out. He realized he was privileged as an agent, it was his job to find information about people, but even so, the surveillance state seemed to be getting worse every day and no one even noticed it. He pushed that thought aside as he glared at the address on the online yellow pages. He closed the private tab and sighed, making a not to delete all of these accounts once he got home and to call Jack and see how he was doing.
After a few months of dreams about the man and y/n that seemed to intensify in violence, Hotch knew that he couldn’t outrun this feeling of anger. It ran in his family, and he could normally control it, but this situation dealt with someone who was as close to himself as anyone had been, so forgiving and forgetting was not an option. Plus, the pervert who had hurt y/n didn’t deserve to be forgiven. He deserved what was coming to him. Aaron knew he couldn’t risk doing something like Elle had, even if that too was justified. He had far too many people relying on him, but he knew this anger wasn’t helping him, so with careful thought and research, he made a plan. Yes, couldn’t be a Batman-type vigilante doling out justice, but he sure as hell could instill fear into the hearts of weak, hurtful, and manipulative men, and that was what he was planning to do.
He waited until the team was on break and y/n was going to see a good childhood friend. He knew she’d be so wrapped up in spreading her warmth with those around her that she’d not fully notice if he wasn’t as responsive as usual. This plan was only going to take two days according to his carefully crafted agenda. With the team on leave, he’d also be safe from a case calling him away and the other BAU members wondered why he was near the edge of the state and not at his apartment which was a forty-minute drive to Quantico.
It was early when Aaron caught his 4:45 AM flight. He didn’t need to, he could drive to the trailer park easily, but he didn’t want to leave a clear trail behind his actions. He rested during the flight and knew that once his task was done, he’d be able to let this go and be fully present for y/n. To return the care she always gave him. He felt that he couldn’t love her unless he let this hatred go. The flight was short, less than an hour, and it landed in a small dinky airport on the edge of Virginia. He then rented a car from the airport and paid in cash. As the sun was fully lighting the sky, Hotch pulled up to the work site where the man he was after was sitting in an air-conditioned office, making sure workers didn’t get hurt on the job. When Aaron found out that that was what the man did, he could only cringe at the irony of someone like that keeping grown men safe but having such neglect for children.
Hotch turned off the car and sat for a moment, tapping his hand on the wheel for a second. He was wearing work clothes, some he’d picked up at Goodwill two days ago. As he stepped out of the truck, he fit right in with the other men coming on the job. It was bound to be a hot day from the sun and lack of clouds. Hotch didn’t look at anyone as he walked toward the portable set of offices on the construction site. He stepped up the wooden stairs and entered the door on the left side. The man he was looking for sat in an uncomfortable-looking swivel chair, drinking a bitter cup of coffee. The man looked up at Aaron and eyed him over. Clearly thinking he was looking for a job, the man said, “HR is the door over. You’re lucky, we fired some guys yesterday.” Hotch clenched his jaw and didn’t say anything. The silence intensified and the man uncomfortably cleared his throat and said, “Can I help you with something?” Hotch let out a breath and locked the door of the office from the inside, trapping the man in with him. The man fidgeted in his chair, not expecting this kind of reaction and not having a clue what to do.
Once Aaron was standing in front of the man’s desk he said, “There is something you can do for me. And you will do it, or you’ll regret the rest of your sorry life.” The man in the chair swallowed thickly and stuttered, “M-man what’s this about? Do I know you?” A tiny flash of understanding moved over his face but it went away as the fear returned. Given his response, the man clearly had more than one enemy, and perhaps this wasn’t the first time this kind of conversation had happened before. Aaron didn’t take the long road as he said, “If I so much as see you, or know that you’re around a child, ever, you’ll be in the ground before you can reach for your phone and try and call the cops.” A look of horror splashed the man like water and he took a bit too long to reply, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know any kids man.”
Aaron let out a breath and replied, “I don’t believe you. The way you’re biting the inside of your mouth right now tells me you’re lying. Also, the sex offender registry says otherwise. If you’re going to blatantly lie to me, at least be right.” Another minute of silence elapsed and Hotch continued, “You can lie to yourself all you want, but you can’t lie to me. So I’m going to say it once more. If I ever see your face near a kid, or in a paper, or near someone I care about I will end you, and you’ll regret every choice you ever make. If you think you can get away with doing something you’re wrong. Every time you pass a school, every time you sit in a pew, or at a restaurant you’d better be watching your back because I will be there somehow someway.”
Hotch slammed his hands on the cheap wooden table, shaking it and the trailer as the man flinched away. The man closed his eyes, expecting to be hit, but by the time he opened his eyes, the large man who had threatened his life was walking out the door.
Back in the car, Aaron pulled out, the man wouldn’t call the police, if he did, his criminal record who be brought up again, and questions would be asked. Questions the man couldn’t afford to answer. Hotch took his time driving back. He made a one-night stay at a hotel and saw a one-man play of Marx in Soho. He enjoyed the performance, but it was more of a cover-up than anything else. The team would ask him what he’d done while off and he’d have something to tell them for once. The next afternoon, he checked out of his hotel and drove back to the city. He arrived at the rental return lot in the evening, dropped off the car, and then got back into his own. As he entered the driver's seat, he felt the need to be with y/n. To have her presence relax him and to know that he’d done the right thing. He texted her to ask if she was back yet. As he started the car, he got a text from y/n saying, “Aaron, yeah I’m back. I got home this afternoon. I was just going to sleep early, I just got out of the shower. If you want to come a spend the night I’d love to have you here.” Hotch’s heart warmed at her response and he quickly texted back that he’d be over in a few minutes.
When Aaron got to y/n’s apartment he parked in a visitor spot and grabbed his keys. He let himself in with his spare and closed the door with a soft click, locking it behind him. There was only the small stove light and lamp on in the kitchen and front room. Hotch looked into the clean space and called out, “Honey, I’m here. Do you want me to turn off the lights?” The soft reply from the bedroom was a simple, “Yes, please.” Hotch smiled and switched off the lights and then moved down the wooden hallway and into y/n’s room.
y/n was just crawling into bed in her favorite night shirt when her bedroom door opened. She beamed at Aaron. Seeing him always made her feel safe, and even though she was tired, she was so happy for him to be here. “Are you staying tonight, or just stopping by to say hi?” Aaron looked around the room, feeling better being here already. Once he started slipping off his shoes and undoing the buttons on his shirt, y/n relaxed more into the bed now that she knew he was staying. When he was just in his briefs, Hotch dipped into bed and turned off the main light in the room. Under the covers he snuggled y/n from behind, breathing in her scent of moisturizer and shampoo. He stayed like that for a little while as they both got comfortable. y/n hummed her approval and whispered, “I’m sorry I’m not up for more tonight. Thanks for coming. How was your break?” Aaron kissed the nape of her neck and replied equally softly, “It was good. I saw a play you’d like yesterday. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.” Aaron could feel y/n smile in front of him as she said, “Agent Aaron Hotchner, the man of culture. I can’t wait, love.”
y/n was as tired as she sounded as she fell asleep a few minutes later. Hotch brushed her hair lightly and held her a little more tightly as he relaxed for the first time since y/n had told him the extent of what had happened to her. He couldn’t save everyone, sometimes it was too late, but this once, this once he was going to be there for someone. He was going to keep being there. As he drifted off, he was able to sleep and not have any dreams at all.
Text Break Banner by @cafekitsune
Tag list: @geminitapestry @silk-spun @potatovoyager @princessjax @samaldonado5 @looking1016 @zoeyredbird1 @alicewonderao3
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#aaron x y/n#aaron x fem!reader#aaron x you#aaron x nonbau!reader#ssa aaron hotchner#aaron hotcher#criminal minds#cm#fanfiction#reader insert#fluff#aaron comfort#levi writes#comfort fic#aaron fluff#cute aaron#soft hotch#protective hotch#hotch blurb#hotch drabble#soft hotch fic#hotch fic#bau reader#please read the warnings#i finally wrote something!!!!!#protective aaron#twice buried#i am alive#not edited#might edit later
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" What a Happy family, i'm glad they accept me!"
TW UNDERCUT// amalgam Kanako
"It hits my head and I feel numb."
#undertale yellow#starlo uty#uty starlo#science starlo au#starlo#sci starlo au#uty#science starlo#my art#ceroba uty#uty ceroba#uty chujin#uty kanako#BTW DONT MIND THAT I FORGOT CHUJINS TAIL AND KANAKOS EARS PLEASE.#(btw i put the trigger warning.)#HEHEHE#Lore!#UTY: MISTAKES
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Currently working on a photo set for @cordeliawhohung ‘s Touch Me Till I Vomit, aka the Pet!AU. More explanation about the piece is below the cut!
HEED THE TAGS AND IMAGE ID, MDNI
[ID] Soap stands behind Bonnie, his hand tightly holding her face/neck. Bonnie is very obviously in distress, crying, with bruises marking her shoulders and chest. Though not on screen, Soap’s gun shot wound is implicated with blood running down his face and dripping onto Bonnie’s shoulders.
[TAGS] If you don’t like Pet!AU you are not going to like this art. Keep scrolling, themes of abuse, blood, bruises, bite marks, collars, crying, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT
I’ve been a horror fan for a while now, and especially psychological horror. Core’s AU has really tickled a brain worm for me, this fic has literally kept me awake at night after I first read it. I cannot express how infatuated I am with the horror element, if this was a movie I would be in the theater opening night. It gives me the same thrill movies like The Black Phone and Silence of the Lambs has. I just… god. Yeah. You don’t get a lot of fic writers who are willing to completely delve into the horror side and who are steadfast in their goal and who don’t bend when people are trying to push and pull them to make it more romantic. I love this, and I adore Core.
There are some things that I really tried to incorporate into the piece. I know typically if a mouth is overly detailed or teeth are shown individually it can induce a feeling of discomfort. I also wanted to really highlight the idea of Soap being a dog in this fic, hence the exaggerated canines and the bite mark. I know the color of the collars aren’t accurate to the fic, but in order to make them stand out with the deep red color pallet I opted to make the black more blue leaning than red/brown as one might see in a typical leather collar. I knew, especially after the most recent chapter, that I had to include Soap’s GSW somehow as that’s a key element as to how he also became a victim. I’ll probably do a more expansive breakdown of the art and its meaning later, but rn I need to get to work lol. Please share thoughts on this piece if you’re willing, negative and positive! I’m always looking to improve!
#tmtiv#pet au#cordellia’s beautiful writing#COD#horror#horror inspired art#heed the tags above#Dead Dove: Do Not Eat#when it comes to triggering content like this please tell me if I’m doing something wrong with my warnings#I’m desperately trying to be mindful but I’m not perfect and very new to tumblr#so please help a newbie out!
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[rattling cage] Do you have any Obikin fics that you've enjoyed? Your beautiful art made me slip right down the ship rabbit hole and now I need recs, any rating/theme.
-blushes, clears throat- Hi!
I like a lot of different flavors but, to keep it simple, I'll try to match my recommendations to the theme I'm cultivating on this blog so far.
First of all, I have to mention skyl_tales, they wrote some of the absolute Obikin classics and I love their work, it's very dear to me. If you haven't read anything from them yet, I strongly recommend taking a look at their works and going for anything that captures your attention!
Alright, now my conscience is clear and we can move on:
Armageddon Game by posthumous_vigor
One of my more recent obsessions. Basically, padawan Obi-Wan gets captured by Sith Anakin and then groomed to the Dark Side. What I enjoy about this one is how, even despite the unfavorable cards that Obi-Wan has been dealt, he cleverly chases down his goals... but not without twisting himself in the pursuit as well. He is an active actor in this play and ultimately it is not Anakin who Obi-Wan plays against. And by recommending this I'm recommending the whole series :).
Untouched by objectlesson
This fic has one the most predatory padawan Anakin I've ever seen. This child is just so deliciously fucked up in the head. I... I think I'll just let the author's summary speak for itself: In his darkest moments, Anakin began to think of it as his right. To control Obi-Wan’s sleeping mind, force it into a box, shut it up so he could take what he deserved. Warm skin, slack face, soft snores. And then—then—more.
pleasure, little treasure by objectlesson
A guilty pleasure of mine. And probably a very hard pill to swallow, so careful there. In this one, Vader goes back in time, kidnaps Jedi initiate Obi-Wan, and makes him his apprentice. Yes, it's very dark, a psychological horror, but this author writes with such skill and poetry that I trusted they could make me enjoy reading stuff I'd normally avoid... And I was right. The beauty in the abominable. That's why I love this author, the things they write are so refreshingly daring and so deeply fucked up on so many levels, but served in a way that makes me swallow it all up without question. (oh, I should probably mention that as of now this fic is unfinished, I seldomly pick up unfinished works, but with this one, I have no regrets :))
hold my heart more gently than you do my throat by tennessoui
This is a role reversal omegaverse AU. Master Skywalker has been captured by the Separatists, and behind the Council's back, his omega Padawan sets out to save the master in distress. It is debatable if the master in question needs the saving -noises of massacre in the background- (he did need the saving, in my opinion :)). What I really love about this fic are the horror vibes of little Padawan getting chased down the hallways of the enemy base full of dead bodies, and an unknown monster breathing down his neck, but the only thing on his mind is how to find his master and rescue him. Also, I enjoyed the final twist and how the story unfolded in the end. Satisfying. If omegaverse is your thing I definitely recommend this one.
game plan by treescape
Out of all the recommendations, I consider this to be the tame one. If all of the above made you hesitant to try, this is the one to go with. The summary: Vader keeps capturing Obi-Wan during the Wars. Obi-Wan keeps escaping. It's kind of a thing. I'm recommending this one for the banter. Some of it is just next level. Very amusing to read. Chef's kiss.
#I wanted to answer this one as soon as possible but I was too excited about getting an ask and then started overthinking a little bit :))#thank you for the ask!#I hope at least one of the recommendations will sound interesting to you but if not... oh well. I'm aware that most of it is... a lot.#to put it mildly XD. So it's obvious but for my peace of mind I have to put down the warning - please read the tags carefully :)#fic rec#obikin#vaderwan#oh.asks#oh.talk
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something lost, something gained
Summary: After being snatched by human traffickers while exploring an abandoned schoolhouse, Lucy fights to survive as she waits for Cooper to find her. (3.9k words)
(warnings for: attempted sexual assault, biting, blood, face slapping, groping, violence, murder, aftercare, hurt/comfort, cooper trying his best in a bad situation)
Fic Masterlist
Link to AO3
Awaking with a languid groan, Lucy's eyes flittered open for only a moment before slamming shut again as a dull pain to her temple made her wince and gasp. Raising her right hand to press at the skin, she was surprised to find her left hand moving in tandem and her eyes snapped open as she realised that her hands were bound together.
Gazing down at the coarse rope which encircled her wrists, panic arose in Lucy's chest as she glanced around the small, cell-shaped room and immediately understood that she was not anywhere recognisable. It didn't even look like the same building she last remembered walking into.
"Cooper?" Calling out with a dry, uncomfortable voice, a sense of irritation laced the anxiety which rolled through her. "What the fudge? Why am I in here?"
The door to the cell creaked open and Lucy glanced up from her slumped position to see a man she did not recognise fill the doorway. He was very tall, head almost brushing the top of the door frame, with a mop of raggedy blonde hair hanging limply across his shoulders and something in the way he looked at her made her skin crawl with unspoken danger. An instinctive disgust which made her mouth tighten.
"Finally awake." The man spoke, his voice sharp, light and slightly pitched. "We were worried we'd done some real damage to your head there."
At his words, Lucy finished her earlier assessment as her fingers once again grazed the hard lump which had formed on her temple - the skin feeling raw and wounded under her fingertips. Dragging her fingertips away, she found them flecked with her own blood.
"Who are you?" She asked, wide eyes darting across the limited space. "Did Cooper put you up to this? Or my father?"
"Don't know who any of those people are but we saw you going into that old schoolhouse with a ghoul so we snuck in, waited for you to split, and gently smuggled you out."
Gently smuggled.
The wound on her head suggested otherwise.
"Why?" A reflex question, one Lucy didn't think she wanted the answer to as the blonde man took a small step in her direction to stare down at her with a lecherous smirk.
"Cause you're in our territory and you're ours now. Me and my buddies have a little side business going on and you're our latest catch." His gaze roving across her white tank top and blue pants, one of his hands settled on the visible bulge of his groin as he winked at her. "We take them, break them, and pass them on to be sold. 50/50 share. And, baby, let me tell you, you're gonna fetch us a pretty price."
The panic in her chest now clawing at her heart as she scrambled her back against the cool stone of the wall, Lucy felt sweat break out across her body as she took in his candid admission with open-mouthed horror.
"No. You can't-"
"Yeah. I can smell the vault on you so I know you probably aren't rolling with the same diseases as all the other cunts we pick up."
Flinching at the term, Lucy fell back into what she knew best as old defense mechanisms kicked in to protect her as best they could.
"Let me go and I'll get you whatever you need. Caps, meds, weapons. I know people who could hel-"
"You?" Laughing openly at her offer, the man steadied himself against the doorframe. "Maybe that bulky ghoul we saw you with could have worked some muscle for us but you haven't got shit we need. Well, aside from-"
His hand still groping sleazily against his bulge, the man stepped fully within the cell and kicked the door shut before him. An action which made Lucy jump as her body shuddered and tensed to the point of discomfort, sensing the danger and violence to come.
"You see, cunt. I'm much nicer than my two friends out there and I'm willing to cut you some slack. Wrap your lips around my cock and suck it like your life depended on it, and I'll tell the boys that you're willing to be a good girl for us. They'll even leave their nasty 'breaking in' toys at the door if they think you're gonna be a good girl."
As he spoke, his body inched closer towards Lucy and her fingers shook terribly as she struggled against the rope holding her wrists, vision quick to blur as genuine fear rocked through her body.
He's going to rape me. Repeated in her head like a cruel, merciless mantra. The elders had told them what rape was, explained that they needed consent to ensure that everyone in the vault was happy and able to share their bodies without problem. They knew, in the vault, they all knew what was okay and what wasn't.
"Cooper!" She hollered out, voice breaking on the second syllable as she attempted to back up against the wall enough to scramble to her feet. "Please, fudge, someone help!"
A memory rose, unbidden in her mind as Lucy rolled her back against the wall. Not long after her body had started to change, one of the elders, a slender old guy named Ernest, had caught her in the gardens. He had asked her questions about her changing body, questions that made her heart feel heavy in her chest as a sense of how wrong he made her feel forced her to back away from him.
He had moved to grab her, his hand wrenching her arm away from her chest when her father had appeared from nowhere. He had been causal in his greeting but even as a child, she had noticed how tight her dad's smile was and how quickly he ushered her back to her room so he could have a quick chat with him.
Ernest died soon after. One of the first to be lost to the latest famine as the crops failed due to an unknown blight. She hadn't questioned it then, too many good people had been lost, but now, in this moment where that same childish fear weighed heavily at her limbs, she wondered if her father had killed him for what he had tried to do.
Kicking out with her feet as the man dropped to his knees before her, his fingers were quick to lock around her ankles - pulling her free of the wall and stealing the breath from her lungs as her head collided with the floor.
"Please, no. Don't do this! No!"
"First times always the worst."
Flashing rotted teeth at her as he straddled her waist, his hands pinned her own roped palms to her stomach as he burrowed down into her space. His breath was awful, smelling foul and rancid, and it sparked a retch in Lucy's throat as she twisted her head to the side. His tongue trailed across her cheek, tasting the grime on her skin as he growled in her ear.
"Just gotta remember to be a good girl and-ARGH!" Breaking off into a pained scream, the man reared back as blood poured from his mouth to drip down on her tank top.
Spitting out the large portion of tongue she had ripped free with her teeth, Lucy used her attackers moment of stunned pain to knock him free of her body. Crawling on her knees, she almost made it to the door when a rough hand wrapped around her hair.
"Stupid cunt!" The words lisping due to his injury, the man's hand was like fire in her hair as he snatched at her scalp viciously. "Gonna break your fucking nose for that."
Yelling as her hands locked around a small shard of metal that lay by the closed door, the man's foot having accidentally knocked it within the cell as he entered, Lucy gripped it tight as she spun on her knees, digging the shard deep into the closest foot she could reach before pulling it free with a vicious twist.
A fresh cry of pain broke free of her attacker as he crashed to the ground, his hands tight around his foot while he snarled obscenities at her.
Fuelled by adrenaline, fear and rage, Lucy pounced on him like a cat, knocking his back flat to the floor as she stabbed the metal as roughly into his throat as she could. Memories of her fraudulent husband flashed before her eyes and she hollered a vicious snarl as she dragged the metal through his skin until the blood flowed and the gurgling of his throat ceased.
Breathing heavily, she stayed in that position until his glassy-eyed stare repulsed her, the scent of fresh blood making her heave anew. Body shaking and mind rattling, it was only when a new voice broke the silence that she jumped as though an electric bolt had fired across her spine.
"Fuck, Petey. She's killed Owen."
Rolling off the corpse, Lucy was quick to take her earlier position - her stained fingers clutching the metal shard as her back pressed against the wall once more.
"Owen was always a dipshit. We'll be better off without him." The taller of the two newcomers added.
Looking just as filthy as the first guy, Lucy's eyes were wild as she pointed the metal at each of them in turn.
"L-let me go. I'll do the same to you." She stuttered, a sinking feeling of despair making her skin feel cold and clammy. "I've killed people before and you'll be next."
Glancing between themselves, both men burst out into a cruel laughter and their movements were quick as they descended on her. Fingers already trembling, it was easy for them to wrestle the metal from her hands and pin her to the floor; their much larger bodies easily holding her knees apart as they pressed them to the floor with their own legs.
Rough hands fished inside her tank top and Lucy found herself unable to do much but bare her teeth and fight off a sob as her chest was pulled free of her bra; breasts spilling over the fabric as matching grunts of approval escaped her attackers.
"They'll do nicely. Fuck, might not even sell this one, what do you think?" The one named Petey asked, his free hand gripping at her chin painfully as he tilted her head to the side in a crude inspection.
Cupping her left breast as though weighing it in his hand, the other man flashed a yellow smile at her.
"Could play with her for a few weeks without going to the others. Would you like that? A few weeks with us and then a ten minute walk up north to meet the rest of the boys?"
Refusing to answer as a fat tear rolled free of her eye, Lucy chose to remain quiet and not give them anything as she struggled in vain.
"You owe us for you did to Owen." The second man continued, his face an open leer as he released her jaw. "So I'm gonna fuck you and then Petey is gonna fuck you and then we're both gonna fuck you. Then you're gonna open those pretty lips wide for-"
"No."
A sharp hand collided with the side of Lucy's face, the blow catching her across the mouth and bursting her lip open in an instant as the taste of copper flooded her mouth.
"Not asking, cunt."
Their hands were all over her, one set fondling her breasts while the other pulled at the hem of her tank top to expose her stomach. They were everywhere and the feeling of them, hot and heavy atop her body, made her feel sick - her throat constricting and panicking as her breaths came short and fast.
The vague sound of the door slamming open touched at her senses but it felt so far off that she didn't think much of it until all hell broke loose.
A fresh splatter of blood sprayed across her face, the sensation matching by a booming gunshot which made her ears ring in the small space as the taller of the two, Petey, collapsed dead atop her - a hole leaking blood and brains from the front of his forehead to her exposed chest.
In shock, both Lucy and the remaining man stared at the corpse for a second before Lucy felt half the weight on her body disappear as the final attacker was pulled free. Her eyes unfocused and blurred with tears, she saw the flash of familiar, tattered leather which hurled her would-be attacker against the wall.
Sounds of exertion were quickly followed by a fresh death gurgle as Cooper's knife flashed in his hand for only a second before being drawn across her attackers throat; the arterial spray swiftly coating Cooper's clothed chest as he let go of his prey and allowed the fresh body to drop to the floor.
Not trusting her eyes, Lucy tilted her head back and cast her gaze to the dingy ceiling as her thoughs spiralled into a messy haze.
After a moment, Cooper's face swam in her vision and the close sight of him sparked a myriad of emotions within her; shock giving way to genuine relief before settling on fear as she took in the genuine fury which blazed in his stark white eyes as they darted across her battered face and disjointed clothing.
He wasn't angry with her, she knew that, but the sheer rage which rolled from his coiled frame made her want to curl into a ball and hide away from it. He smelled of leather and blood, the scent of fresh violence making her nose twitch as the corpses of her attackers lay motionless, crowding the floor of her cell.
"S'alright, I got you, sweetie." Cooper's hands were firm but gentle as he wrapped them around her shoulders, hoisting her enough that she were able to lean against the wall in a sitting position.
Despite everything, his voice was like a balm and she relaxed into his touch as her trembling fingers were gripped within his own - his knife glinting once more as he quickly severed her bindings and let the rope fall to the floor. In an instant, her knees snapped to her chest as her arms looped around them, her body curling in on itself as a wave of nausea made her throat feel tight.
Still on his haunches before her, Cooper studied her for a solid moment before matching her position as he leaned against the opposite wall, his legs outstretched and his back straight against the cool stone.
"Fix yourself, darlin'. I'd offer but I don't think you want another monsters hands on you before the day's out."
Keeping her knees tight, Lucy brought trembling fingers to her chest - her relief at being saved having made her forget about her state of undress - and she tucked her breasts away back into the off-white bra with a lifeless motion, the skin feeling sensitive and sore due to their abuse. Made decent, her arms were quick to loop around her knees once more, her chin sitting atop her knees as a gloomy, far-off expression graced her features.
"Did they-" A half question which Cooper quickly thought better of as he abandoned ship and adjusted it on the fly. "You okay?" It was a quiet ask, the words so low that Lucy knew she could ignore them if she wanted to.
"No," she stuttered, feeling weary despite the adrenaline which still pulsed in her veins, "but I have to be because what else is there. So I have to be."
Making a small noise of agreement in his chest, Cooper's gaze rose to the ceiling as he plucked his hat from his head and dropped it to the floor by his open lap.
"That you do, darlin'. Nothing else for it."
They sat in silence for a bit, the only slightly pained sounds coming from Lucy's throat as she adjusted to the various aches which afflicted her body. Her face was the worst as her temple throbbed like a bitch and her burst lip felt huge and ugly against her mouth. The bodies forever doomed to lay in messy piles, Lucy's eyes ghosted over them and settled on the growing patches of blood which each steadily leaked to the cell floor.
"You killed them all?" She said, already knowing the answer and unsure why she even asked.
"Not all of them. One of them was already dead when I got here and I'd recognise the teeth marks in that hunk of ripped tongue anywhere." Despite the guarded nature of his tone, there was a spark of warmth as he flashed his, well, her, finger at her, and Lucy swore she heard the slightest hint of pride leaking through. "You did good, sweetheart. You fought like a hellcat and you didn't let them win."
"Didn't win." Lucy mumbled miserly. "You did."
"Oh, I have no doubt you would have gotten them both in the end. They might have taken a few strips from you, but that fire in your belly would have scorched them dry."
Mouth upturning at the praise as she fought off the urge to cry, Lucy swiped at her eyes with the back of her hands as her breathing quickly grew erratic.
"All these bullshit lessons you've put me through and it still wasnt enough." She blurted out with a desperate gasp. "They're evil. I hate it here. I hate their cruelty. I hate their hurting. I hate-"
Finally unable to hold back the swell of emotion which threatened her, Lucy broke off on the final word as a heaving sob replaced any chance she had of cohesive speech. It was something raw and unfiltered, mourning the loss of some part of herself that would never be returned as she was forced to mold herself into a creature of violence and hate just to survive in their world.
Cooper, to his credit, let her cry without any false sympathies or interference. His face lacked any judgement, the hole in his face flexing slightly as he inhaled and exhaled steadily, eyes never shifting from Lucy's sobbing frame. Something difficult to pin down flashed through his gaze as though a multitude of possible outcomes were pushing at his thoughts.
After some internal debate, a grunt slipped free of Cooper's lips as he leaned across the short space and pulled at Lucy's shoulder.
So lost in her own misery, Lucy didn't fight the pressure of his strong hand as he pulled her to the side, dropping her to the floor in such a way that her head pressed against the upper part of his legs as she faced away from him. It did nothing to stop her tears, but it did give her something to lean on as he immediately retracted his hand to fold his arms fully across his chest.
Cooper's thighs were like unyielding steel beneath her head, giving Lucy something solid to pin her senses on as she fought to quell the quiver of her lip and the shudders which continued to wrack her body. Their journey had been hard and the hunt for her father was a disaster of interference and dead trails of information.
This was just the latest set-back in a long list of utter shit.
Offering her no other physical support, unsure if it would cause her to act out or break down further, Cooper waited until her breathing was a little more even before speaking again.
"Be sad." He paused, allowing the rare piece of advice to sit heavily in the air between them. "Be angry. Feel that fire in your gut burn so hot that you get the fear it's gonna burst free and raze everything around you to the ground. Hell, curse the day your momma brought you into the world if that's how you feel. But don't break."
Stopping once again, Cooper felt a rare moment of genuine pity for the woman as he glanced down at her. Lucy Maclean, who foolishly tried to choose peace in a peaceless world, still had a lot of learning to do when it came to the way that same world worked.
He could only show her so much, some lessons had to be learned the hard way, and if she could take them, then he would do his part to keep her whole.
"Whatever they do to you, survive it. Skulk off, lick your wounds, come back stronger. Get that revenge your blood sings for." Speaking as much to himself as her, Cooper allowed her a peek into his own thoughts, an insight he knew she wouldn't fully understand quite yet. "Never let them break you. Better off dead than broken in this world."
Gathering herself enough to shakily speak, Lucy gripped Cooper's knee with clawing fingers as she clung to him like a lifeline.
"There's more of them. Ten minutes up north. That's who they were- who they were going to sell me to."
"More side-tracking bullshit." Cooper sighed but his voice grew more contemplative as his gravelled tones mused on her words. "That said, been a while since I hunted down some proper vermin. No bounty. No rules. Might be fun to let loose for once."
He let the idea hang in the air, curious if she was hinting at what he suspected she was.
"You coming with me?"
"Yeah."
Unseen by the shaking Lucy, a pleased smile split Cooper's lips as he glanced down at her steady answer.
It wasn't often he took on a companion, far less one that he'd actually indulge, but the odd woman intrigued him with the hypocrisy of her very existence. A vaultie with a edge, naive blood screaming out for wrongs to be righted just like his own as she fought alongside him like a harpy.
It did help that they both wanted her dear old daddy strung up like the traitor he were.
But revenge would see her right.
She was owed a debt by those who had tried to take her, a debt of honor, and he would see that she avenged it in a glorious explosion of violence that would help keep her nightmares at bay as they would leave no doubt that the beasts responsible were well put down and unable to haunt her.
By gun or by knife, she would get at least that.
He had seen the broken ones. The ones used and abused by so many across the wastelands that they gave up everything and became husks even more devoid of humanity than the ghouls who lost the battle and went feral. It was a fate worse than the many deaths he'd experienced in his time.
No one deserved that.
Especially not Lucy Maclean.
His hand ghosting over her head, fingers only an inch away from her fine head of mousy hair, Cooper tilted his head to the side as he took her exhausted frame in.
"Sleep for now, vaultie. Time for this little killer to save her strength. So take it for what it is and when you wake, we'll see about righting some of the wrongs that happened here."
Feeling more safe with the violent ghoul who had shown her the new reality of her world than any other of the awful creatures she had met since leaving her vault, Lucy's eyes fluttered close as his voice washed over her and exhaustion claimed her before she could do anything to muse on that odd feeling of safety.
Links to the rest of the series:
Part 1
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
#mind those warnings! Cooper really does his best here and ive tried to keep things as in character as i could given the circumstances#cooper howard x lucy maclean#cooper x lucy#ghoul x lucy#lucy maclean#cooper howard#the ghoul#fallout fic#fallout 2024#fallout#I'm very pleased with this one ngl#so if it flops im gonna drink strychnine#cooper howard fic#lucy maclean fic#fallout fanfic#vaultghoul#ghoulcy
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GUYS NOOOOO!
#bilao means dick in portuguese#please guys#for the love of god#CHANGE IT😭😭😭#nothing against the ship itself#i don't ship it#but i don't mind it#but the name#jesus christ on a motorbike#was kunghan not available??#was there no Brazilians to warn you???#kung lao#bi han#bi han x kung lao#bilao#<- WTF??#sub zero#the post is a joke#sorta
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