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hyperfixatedoncrimminalminds · 11 months

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Can I request an Aaron Hotchner x autistic!daughter young adult ideally but any age. Or even she’s on the team and he’s a father figure to her because her own is so ableist. My dad is so ableist and I have so much autistic trauma from him even though my autism is from him too. He thinks that gives him even more rights to say whatever he wants to me and bully me even more. I just need to know what it feels like to have a good dad who cares about my autism. Who cares about me ❤️❤️

Aaron Hotchner x Autistic! Young adult reader

Of course I can, I'm sorry you have to deal with that, my parents have trouble understanding my Autism as well but they are getting better. I will write this for you!

Summary: Y/Ns ableist Dad comes to the BAU and starts being an Ableist arsehole to his daughter, her father figure (Hotch) steps in and saves her.

Third Person pov...

It had been 3 years since Y/N L/N joined the BAU, she was 21 when she joined and instantly became the baby of the team and Hotch became her Dad, Y/N is autistic and has sensory issues.

Ever since she was little her father was ablest and would bully her and verbally abuse her saying how her being Autistic meant something was wrong with her and that she needed fixing, the man caused her to have so many meltdowns and sensory overloads that it made others concerned her teachers as school.

He was later arrested for child abuse and was sent to prison, Y/N was then left with her neighbours who were a nice loving family and always liked her but hated her dad and were glad she got away from him after suffering for years, her Mum was out of the picture.

The young girl had so much trauma from her childhood when she joined the BAU that Hotch became her father figure, their relationship helped mend Y/Ns trauma from her bio dad and she was able to live comfortably knowing he wasnt in her life anymore, she was treated with respect and was always told that her autism wasn't a bad thing.

From being with Penelope and Spencer (who are also Autistic) her relationship with her Autism was mended and she was able to be herself, while with her dad she could stim or doing anything 'autistic' but with her new found family she was free to stim and had all her accomedations, if anyone disrespected her or called her weird they would have to deal with an angry Hotch and the rest of the team.

It was a normal day for the team, they weren’t on a case and for once they all got to relax and fill out paperwork, well aside from Hotch and Spencer no one was doing any paperwork, Derek and Emily were sat giggling loudly like children as they kept throwing rolled up pieces of paper at their second youngest member.

The laughter increased as they kept hitting their mark, Spencers head, the genius was none the wiser as a pile of paper was forming around him at their many failed attempts. From the side JJ and Penelope sit and watch as Spencer doesn't realise, opposite the genius sat Y/N she was busy spinning in her chair with her headphones on and watching the scene play out.

She had the perfect poker face for when a paper ball hit Spencer's head, as the children in the bull pen play the two adults Hotch and Rossi where actually getting work done, , well Hotch was at least the Italian was drinking and watching the kids outside keeping an eye on them as someone responsible needed too.

As Y/N continued to spin around her in chair she didn’t hear the heavy footsteps off someone walking up behind her, the H/C woman was suddenly yanked off her chair and onto the hard floor by a man, in the process of being manhandled her headphones when flying off her head.

“What did I tall ya about doing that Girl!” exclaimed a voice that haunted her nightmares, gasping in terror Y/N stared frozen at her Father who was suppose to be in prison, the large man had a sickening grin on his face as he saw the terror in his daughter eyes.

“Yes its me!” he laughed that horrible laugh that had Y/N holding her hands overs her ears, the 21 year old was still frozen on the floor while the others were staring at the scene before them guns raised, by this time Hotch and Rossi had heard what happened and were out of their offices.

“bu-but your supposed to be in jail!” exclaimed Y/N finally finding her voice stuttering, the man looked down at her crumpled form, he then grabbed the front of her blouse pulling his daughter close. “they let me out for good behaviour, did ya miss me!” he semi whispered as Y/Ns face grew a sickening pale white, she scrambled to get away but the man wouldn’t let go instead he raised his hand and slapped her.

Y/N cried out in pain. “you really didn’t think I could be held for long did ya you retard! You really are still a fucked in the head as you were years ago” yelled the man, Hotch had had enough, he rain down thw ramp arms raised, gun in his hands. “Get your hands on hr now, you do realise you just assaulted a federal agent” growled out Hotch as the man teared his eyes away from the shivering form of his daughter.

He spat at Hotch. “your not her father I am, this waste of space in am Agent HA!”!” he laughed again and kicked Y/N hard in the ribs, Penelope gasps tears in her eyes as she witnesses her friend get beaten. Y/N holds in her cries of pain and raises her head from the floor glaring at the man.

“your not my dad you never have been!” she cried tears rolling down her face, the sadistic man smirked at the tears rolling down his daughters face, the sight reminding off when she was a kid and he would verbally abuse her, he had never hit her before now, it felt good.

Her words made him angry. “I am your father retard, though I hate to admit it you share my blood, your as stupid as I remember crying on the floor like the child you are to stupid to do what I say” he goes on on berating Y/N and saying how stupid she was once again verbally abusing her, as he went on his rant Y/N managed to stand up.

She was then pulled behind Hotch, his finger close to pulling the trigger. “you Bastard, you shut the fuck up now, you have crossed the line now get out of my building and away from my Daughter before I pump your body full of bullets!” yelled Hotch threw clenched teeth, he was so close to pulling the trigger instead he stormed up so he was chest to chest with the man and pulled back his fist.

When he lets go his right hand connected with the nose he was satisfied to feel it shatter, a smirk on his face before gesturing to a couple of agents. “now don’t ever come back or I will kill you” Hotches hand was burning but he felt satisfied when Y/Ns Dad freeze before he tsked and stormed out not before calling Y/N the R slur before he was detained by two agents ans forced into handcuffs.

Hotch crossed his arms before turning around to hug Y/N was had collapsed, the stress from her dad coming in draining her, she was then sat at her desk with Hotch hovering around her looking at her injuries, E/C eyes locked on his brown ones.

“Im your daughter” she whispers hoarsely, this made Hotch smile and run his hand through her hair. “of course, you are sweetie” he smiled softly kissing her forehead still smiling when she smiles back.

The end!!

Hoped you liked this oneshot so sorry for the wait! As usual sorry for the grammar and spelling mistake!

Requests are open!

Word count: 1366

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whatwedoinsilence · 2 years

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Abuse comes in waves. So does pain.

You spent months being civil with each other, kind even. They do things for you, buy you clothes, groceries, say nice things and ask about your day. And you start to forget. You start to feel guilty. Why did I hate them? Why was I angry? Why did I want to leave? That was awfully mean of me. They need me. If I leave, they'll be all alone.

Then it all comes crashing down. One little thing lights up the flames and sparks a reaction. It happens fast, but feels like it lasts a lifetime. They say "things they didn't really mean", they "let anger get the best of them", and you're at the receiving end, scared, alone and not able to react.

And you start to remember. You place this memory with all the others, like a bunch of crystal ornaments on a shelf. You start noticing the patterns. You even make excuses for them. I was too loud, too aggressive, too mean. I deserved it. I deserve this.

Hours later, when you're safe and sound in your room, the reaction finally hits. You cry and sob, you want to scream but know you can't. You want to leave but have nowhere to go. You have no choice but to stay put and feel the pain. The pain from this moment and all the others that preceeded it. The pain from all the chances you had to leave but didn't take. The pain from all the instances you believed they changed.

And you know, once they wake up, it'll be like it never happened. Kind words and kind gestures, all over again. And you have no choice but to play along, otherwise who knows what might happen.

Every week. Every month. Every year. A new little crystal ornament for my collection. A new memory for me to obsess over and try to prove to myself that it wasn't that bad, that I barely got hurt, that it could've been worse.

I wonder how long it'll take for the next ornament to arrive. I wonder if I'll have enough space for it on the shelve.

#child abuse survivor #living with your abuser #abusive mother #abusive father #abusive parents #abusive relationship #verbal abuse #physical abuse #emotional abuse #narcissistic behavior #surviving narcissism #narcissist mother #narcissist parents #narc abuse

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neuroticboyfriend · 5 months

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okay. i finally found something on parents love bombing that is not ableist against cluster B's or encouraging parents to love bomb. it's in the form of a comment on this reddit post from 6 years ago. here's the comment, from u/Glaucus92:

Lovebombing is part of the cycle of abuse. The cycle you'll usually find is this one:

Calm -> Tension building -> Incident -> Reconcilliation -> Calm

Lovebombing is part of the "Reconcilliation" part. After an incident, a victim will usually try to confront, give consequences to, or withdraw form the abuser. In order to keep the victim close, to keep power over them, an abuser may lovebomb their victim. It is not linked to a specifc role in an abisive dynamic. It is a technique used by abuser as a reaction to 'losing' a victim.

The abuser will (attempt to) be the person you always wanted them to be. That can be the parent that listens to you when you talk about your interest. It can be that they tell you how proud they are of you, how they've always been proud, etc. It can be that they buy you gifts or give you money. This behaviour isn't exclusive to abusive parents either; think of how an abusive spouse might organize a wonderful date or get an expensive gift for their victims.

The goal of the lovebombing is to give you a little taste of what you usually never get from them, be it attention, financial aid, praise, compliments, whatever. By giving you that tiny bit, they are basically pretending that they can be this nice, loving parent. The underlying unspoken message of course being that things could be like this, if only you tried harder, or weren't like x, or were more like y. Because without the realization that they are abusive, it doesn't make sense for them to purposefully hurt you and then be really nice to you.

Lovebombing insipres false hope that if only you could be better, the abuser wouldn't be abusive. It also helps wiht the gaslighting; when they do all these nice things for you in that moment, you might think that you over-exagerated the previous abuse. It's usually only when you look back and realise that all these 'nice' things only happened when you were upset with them or withdrew from them.

Since you asked for examples:

A parent who is usually very disinterested in your life suddenly makes a lot of effort to discuss you hobbies with you.

A parent might start to give you a lot of compliments all of a sudden, or tell stories about how they've told others about how amazing you are.

Parents might give you gifts for no reason. Stating that they just wanted to be nice, or just thought of you when they saw it.

They might start calling or visiting a lot, especially when they previously didn't. Saying things about how much they miss you.

Trying to harken back to 'the good old days'. Sending you pictures of happy childhood memories or recounting old stories.

It might be straight up bribery. A conflict happens, and after the intial blow up you are given cash/money to buy something nice or becasue they ust want to help.

A parent might try to smooth things over by taking you to a place or on a trip you wanted to go to.

I know some of these might sound like perfectly normal things, and they would be coming from non-abusive people. It becomes an abusive tactic when it happens more often than not (or in greater intesity) after a conflict has occured. It also almost always happens in lieu of an actual apology. By lovebombing instead of apologizing, the abuser doesn't have to take responisbility for their action. The unspoken agreement that governs this is that by accepting the gift/loveboming, the victim doesn't hold the abuser accountable.

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stargirlfeyre · 9 months

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If Nesta was never abusive to Feyre then why does she hear Nesta’s voice in her head whenever she thinks something bad about her? A trauma response that Emerie also has because of the years she spent being degraded? Hate to break it to you but a trauma response like that does not simply come from “being mean” or “sibling fights”.

#feyre archeron #nesta archeron #pro feyre #high lady feyre #and before a dumbass gets in my mentions I’m not comparing nesta and emerie’s father #I’m simply stating how both emerie and feyre have the same trauma response because both of them were verbally abused #feyre would not have the same trauma response that emerie does if what nesta said to her wasn’t severe and damaging to her mentally #feyre darling

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ardenwritesegos · 2 months

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Starlight

Warning: Verbal abuse

Another day, another bout of chaos. Dark should know to expect nothing less from the Ipliers. All the more reason for a daily evaluation. If he didn’t, the mansion would likely burst into flames. Hell, it nearly did at one point. Damn Wilford and his ability to summon flame throwers at will. No matter. There were far more important things to dwell on. Or rather, far more important people.

The being continued through the halls of the manor, entering room after room. The Googles were searching their online systems for useful information. Dr. Iplier was organizing yet another stack of files detailing the egos’ medical accidents. Everything seemed to be in order. At least, for the time being.

The creature was soon finished with his inspection, moseying down the hall to his office. As they did, however, one of the doors opened. Someone exited from it in a rush. Eric Derekson. The shy Iplier held a stack of paper tightly in his arms, muttering something to himself. In his hurry, Eric practically rammed into Dark. The documents flew out of his hold, scattering in different directions. As Derekson looked up, the being could see the terror in his face.

“I’m-I’m sorry!” Eric stuttered quickly.

“I was trying to memorize my script for today, and–”

“Stop,” Dark interrupted, attempting to be as calm as possible.

Typically, the being would have no issue striking fear into the egos to keep them in line. This one, however, wasn’t like the others.

Derekson did not contain the outward confidence or fearlessness of an Iplier. He was fragile as an egg, flinching at the slightest sound. The ego could barely speak without questioning every word. It was almost a saddening sight. Almost. “No harm has been done,” the being reassured Eric. The mist of their aura picked up Eric’s papers, handing the stack to Derekson. “You should find them in order,” Dark explained as the other checked his documents. The shy Iplier looked on in confusion, not seeming to expect the kindness. Dark couldn’t blame him. Not with the demon’s reputation in the manor.

“Th-Thank you,” Eric said quietly, a bit calmer.

“You’re welcome,” the creature responded. “Now, go. Derek is surely waiting for you.”

“Yeah...right,” Derekson ran along to his errand. Dark couldn’t help but notice an extra shakiness from Eric at the mention of his father. Something about that was all too familiar to the being.

My Starlight

They shook it off, returning to his room. It wasn’t their problem to solve.

[Meanwhile]

The creature sat at their desk, sorting another week’s worth of incidents from Dr. Iplier. As usual, it was a mountainous pile. However, Dark didn’t find it to be too much. He could get through papers like this rather quickly, after all. Before Dark could continue, he was interrupted by yelling that boomed from across the hall. The being knew all too well where it was coming from. They made their way across the hall, stopping midway at a door. On it was a poorly-constructed sign, reading Derekson Studio. Screaming continued from behind the door. Dark focused, until they could see the inside.

“I don’t get what’s so hard about this!” Derek boomed at the timid ego.

“All ya gotta do is say some lines for stuff that practically sells itself,” he said matter-of-factly, as if it were that simple for everyone.

“What dontcha understand?!”

“I-I-I,” Eric stuttered, shaking harder than a leaf. “M-Maybe I’m just not-just not cut out for this,” he began to fidget with the orange towel in his hand. Derekson always seemed to have that cloth near him. None of the others ever knew why, nor did they care enough to ask. “ If you asked my brothers, they-they’d say the same thing,” Eric added. “Merrick would–”

“You think I don’t know that?!” Derek interrupted, instantly silencing his son. “You think I wouldn’t rather have Merrick do this?!” he boomed. “But he ain’t here, so you’re the only option I got!” Eric cowered more with each word. “So just get up there and get it together!” At those words, Dark was sent into one of the soul’s memories.

A little boy was with his father, practicing for a speech, his first as class president. Like Eric, the child struggled to get the words out. For every mistake, his dad forced him to start over. The father quickly became more aggravated with each stutter or lengthy pause.

“Get it together, boy!” the parent barked. “How are you going to be a politician if you can’t speak to a crowd?!” the boy had previously voiced his desire to be a leader of some kind. He wanted to help people in any way he could. In his mind, politics seemed like the best way to do that. At the time, however, he felt as if he wasn’t cut out for it.

“B-but, everyone will be staring at me,” the child stammered, hands restless in their folded position.

“That’s the point!” the man’s voice could be heard throughout the house. Maybe even the neighborhood. Regardless, the boy knew nobody would say a word. The man of the house had to keep order, after all. “What about that do you not understand?!”

“I understand, but–” the child mumbled, on the verge of tears.

“Then act like it and say the damned words!” the father swore.

With a shake of their head, Dark was brought back to reality. Noise like that could not be tolerated. It was a distraction that could lead the entire manor off-track. He opened the door, immediately silencing Derek. The man may have been too stubborn for his own good, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew very well that this being was not to be messed with.

“Hello, Derekson,” Dark greeted the father with his usual cold indifference.

“Uh…hello there, boss,” one could practically see the sweat dripping off the salesman.

“What brings you here?”

“You have caused a bit of noise, Derek,” the creature folded their arms behind their back.

“S-so sorry, sir,” the father apologized. “I was just,uh, trying to motivate my son, here,” he put an arm on Eric’s shoulder, causing the boy to flinch.

“I highly doubt that shouting is adequate motivation,” they said, matter-of-factly.

“Well actually, it works quite well for–”

“Could you leave the room for a moment?” Dark asked, interrupting Derek.

“What?” Derek responded, face freezing in confusion.

“I would like to speak with Eric, alone,” the being ordered calmly, yet somehow also firmly.

“But sir, he doesn’t do good on his own,” Derek protested, clearly trying hard not to burst out in anger.

“He will not be by himself, Derek,” Dark reassured, voice still emotionless. “Now, run along,” the creature ordered. “A new shipment was warped in for you.”

“Uh…Yes sir,” the father said after several moments of hesitation. As the door clicked shut, Dark made their way towards the boy. He remained in front of the green screen, shaking like a leaf, sure that he was in trouble. The being stopped in front of him.

“You are not in trouble, Eric,” the creature reassured, able to hear Derekson’s thoughts.

“I’m-I’m not?” he asked, as if he wasn’t used to such a statement. Dark feels a tugging in his chest at that.

“Derek was the cause of that...noise, not you,” they sighed, careful with their choice of words. The boy was already overwhelmed. He didn’t need to magnify the situation.

“But…he did that because of me,” Eric looked down in shame, hands repeatedly wringing around his orange cloth. Dark could see tears starting to form in the boy’s eyes. “If I hadn’t m-messed up my lines, he would-wouldn’t have had to–”

“You didn’t make him do anything,” the being blurted out, no control over their words. They wanted to move away, but found their aura keeping them in place. While they couldn’t see the color of it, they could tell which one it was. Dammit! Fully under the blue soul’s control, the being put their arms around Derekson. The blue soul then pushed a calming aura into Eric. All at once, the boy’s tension disappeared. His muscles eased. The mental swarming in his head went silent, allowing him to, for once in his life, think clearly. Eric returned the hug, wrapping the creature in a nearly choking embrace. He looked up at Dark.

“Why…” Derekson paused, sniffling away the remains of his tears. “Why does he hate me?” The blue soul remembered asking that exact question.

A young boy clings to his mother, crying his little eyes out. Father is not around, so he can do so without getting disciplined.

“Mother, why does he hate me?!” the child choked out.

“Because he is a fool, starlight,” the woman, the boy’s mother, replied softly. “Anyone would be well-off knowing you,” she rubbed soothing circles into the boy's back.

“But…he says I cry too much,” the boy weakly argued.

“Because he has the emotions of a doll,” the mother scoffed. Her warm gaze remained directly on her son. “You, my dear, are a wonder.”

“Because he has the empathy of a mannequin,” the being responded, answer still out of his control.

“It’s-it’s not his fault, though,” Eric stumbled out. “I mean, everyone else died-”

“That is no excuse for a man to treat his child like that,” the blue soul interrupted. The blue in his aura grew brighter with every second of rage. “His only remaining child, no less…” the soul took a calming breath, trying again to keep his composure in front of the already overwhelmed boy. Eventually, his light was no longer blinding. Regardless, it remained lit like a halo; a comforting, guiding light. Eric couldn’t help but stare. In that gaze, the soul saw the innocence of his past. The kindness. The plea for someone to listen.

The weakness.

The soul’s control was ripped from him in an instant. Dark blinked hard, blue outline once again blending with red and gray. The creature quickly but gently removed their arms from Eric, moving them behind their back.

“I will speak to Derek about his…” Dark paused, searching for a careful word.

“Behavior. Mistreatment of employees, related or otherwise, will not be tolerated in this manor,” The being walked towards the door, but stopped before turning the knob.

“And Eric,” Dark turns slightly to look at Derekson.

“Yeah?” Eric forced the word out of his mouth. This Dark was drastically different from the Dark of moments ago.

“If you should need advice on public speech, I have prior experience that could be to your benefit,” Dark suggested.

“But be sure to advise me beforehand.”

“Really? Uh, thanks,” Eric wrung the fabric in his hand like he was getting water out. This time, however, it wasn’t completely out of nerves. With that, the creature exited, on his way to have a few choice words with Derek.

#markiplier #markiplier fanfiction #darkiplier #eric derekson #father-son esque relationship #this is not me shipping them!#I will protect this parental relationship with my soul!#This was in my online documents for over a year #and I finally got the motivation to finish it #puppeteer with a pencil #cw verbal abuse

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miss-mossball · 5 months

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I wanted to a redraw of a doodle I did wayyy back in 2013 vvv

#doodle heaven #my ocs #persona #dosy #flour #If you're wondering who dat Flour guy is and why is he abusive/shipped with Dosy: they used to be oc-versions of Glados and Wheatley #from Portal #and had an abusive marriage #you see way back then all my rps with my siblings were about coping with my father #who was sexually physically and verbally abusive and at the time of that rp he still was(didnt know about the csa tho)#So we based Wheatley's personality on his and I thought I was basing Dosy's on my mom's and the ship we had was an attempt to fix their #sad hopeless marriage #I did not realize that dosy and wheatley(now flour) were alters in my head! until much later! and that I was coping with something far #deeper than I thought #Flour resurfaced in summertime this past year after a really traumatizing fight with my mom about the subject #he is a persecutor part to the rest of the Dosy parts and is working on reforming #We use art to cope <3 he helped me through getting kicked out and getting to Rou #Pretty much 100% of my art is about surviving my abusive household and finding happiness with Rou and Chime #And most of that is about my alters because I have DID <3 the end #Sorry for the ramble I thought it would be confusing to bring up such old art without a smidge of context #I'm thinking I'd like dosy's hair to be short while mine is because I..am her. She is me #I am dosy the host hello <3 #redraw #2013

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addilynn-rogers · 2 months

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how do you expect me to get better in the environment that made me sick in the first place?

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freakthingg · 9 months

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"love"

#traumacore #ventcore #actually traumatized #parental abuse #verbal abuse #emotional abuse #physical abuse #father

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ameetingplace · 5 months

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I made a Playlist for daughters of abusive fathers. A Playlist 10 years in the making. Here ya go.

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jujulebee · 11 months

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She's lost track of how many days it's been.

"If you would just fuckin' do what you're told, we could be done with this. You're comin' home one way or another, an' so is your—"

There's a haze of static that clouds Honey's mind as she listens to her father speak. She's hardly conscious of his presence at all, more aware of the blood that drips down over her lips.

She's not sure she could support herself if she tried.

Her eyes aren't on him. They never are. He gets angry when she meets his eye.

She's vaguely aware of him approaching, of the way he grabs her by the hair and pulls her to her feet.

"Are you fuckin' listening or not?"

She stumbles as he starts pulling her forward, trying to get her footing, but he's too rough and her muscles too sore to move properly, so she falls to her knees, gasping in pain. He doesn't stop, though, instead dragging her the rest of the way to a mirror on the wall.

"Look at you. Disgusting lil tramp. I said you'd end up goin' t'hell for actin' like a whore."

His grip on her hair tightens and he pulls her up to standing once more, Honey's eyes pulsing painfully as she tries to keep herself from crying, desperate to not waste any blood.

He refuses to feed her.

Once she's up, he shifts his hands to catch her in a chokehold. It may not cut off her air anymore, but it's still enough to get her to panic, her sudden attempt to move only causing him to tighten the hold.

"Y'ain't endin' up there fast enough for my taste, Honey Bonnie. You're gonna remember this lesson. I'm makin' sure of it. You take a good long look, cause this is what you deserve."

The hold tightens and her head pulses painfully.

"Once I got Lily I'm draggin' you both home. I ain't lettin' you give yourself to the Devil. You belong to me."

Honey's heart rate spikes and her eyes widen, voice weak as she hisses out, "Better the Devil'n a cuck like you."

She doesn't register how his hold shifts. Doesn't even register the movement from where she's at to when her head collides with the mirror, but she certainly feels each shard. She can hear the glass crunch against her face as he holds her against the broken surface. When he lets go, she falls to the ground, small chips stuck in her skin, a large gash on her face from one of the bigger shards mostly hidden by her hair.

She sees him standing above her, staring down at her through the shattered reflection. Delusion tries to protect her, to save her from what she's seeing. Just the head of a wolf, lips curled and licking its chops. She closes her eyes, a single bloody tear running down her cheek. She hears his footsteps leaving the room, hears the muffled sound of his voice as he yells and rants, hears the slam of the door.

Another moment of peace.

She stays on the ground for a few minutes, gathering herself, before slowly shifting to push herself up. She ignores the glass that sticks to her palm, quietly hugging herself once she's in a relatively comfortable sitting position.

She won't leave.

She can't.

#physical abuse/assault #emotional/verbal abuse #dead dove do not eat #azrael weeping #domestic abuse #abusive father #misogynistic language #not viewable ic #action post

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