hello my name is cigarette breath

Two Sides of the Same Coin

A/N: An anon request for a fic where the reader has split personality disorder and the team finds out during an interrogation that Hotch is conducting. Starts out from the ‘you’ POV, but switches halfway through to the alter, referred to in the third person. I did name the alter, so if the alter happens to have your actual name, I’m sorry >.< @coveofmemories

Warnings: Referenced rape and cutting.

                                                               ——

“Hello, Y/N,” the man said as he walked into the interrogation room. “My name is Agent Aaron Hotchner. I need to ask you a couple of questions about Chase Terry.”

You twitched at the name - the one you tried so hard to forget. To forget the feel of his breath at the nape of your neck. To forget the pervasive scent of cigarette smoke as he pushed himself against you. To forget the feel of his hand as it slipped into your panties. To forget the way you’d cried out in pain when he pushed himself into you. You’d been trying to forget, but the second this man brought up his name, everything came flooding back to you. “What about him?” you asked hotly. Why was it that every time you were close to putting this whole thing behind you, someone brought it up and forced you to relieve your ordeal over and over again? 

“He’s dead,” he said, pulling out a picture of a body, which you immediately flinched from. “We’re trying to figure out who killed him?”

“And you think I did it?” you asked. As much as you wanted the man dead, so he could never hurt you or anyone else again, you didn’t have it in you to take the life of another.

Agent Hotchner searched your eyes for truth, but you couldn’t read him. “I didn’t say that. But I do need to ask you about your past with him.”

“There was no past!” you yelled to the unflinching agent as tears pricked the corners of your eyes. “I’d never met him before he pushed me up against a wall, ripped my clothes off and raped me up against a wall. If that’s what you consider a past, that was the extent of it!” 

It was frustrating looking at the man across from you, because you couldn’t read him. Did he believe you? Did he think you killed this man? You couldn’t tell. “Where were you this past Tuesday at 10:15 PM?”

“I was at home in my apartment, alone,” you replied, knowing immediately the conclusion that he would make. But it wasn’t true, you didn’t have the ability to kill someone, no matter how much you hated them. Plus, the idea of actually going and seeking him out made you sick. You wanted nothing to do with that man again for as long as you lived. “I didn’t kill anyone, Agent Hotchner.”

He seemed to both believe and doubt you at the same time. However that was possible. “I want to believe you, Y/N,” he said softly, pushing a piece of paper across the table toward you. “But we found a drop of blood outside your apartment and it belongs to him.”

As you looked down at the paper, you didn’t know how to explain it, but it was there plain as day - it was his blood. “I don’t know what to tell you Agent Hotchner. Except that maybe someone is trying to frame me. I didn’t kill him. I hate him for what he did to me, making me feel like I could never truly be safe again, but I don’t have it in me to kill someone.” You glanced toward the side, keeping your gaze away from the picture of Chase stabbed and slashed to death. It was too gruesome to look at.

“Right now, our evidence points to you as the killer,” he said, “So we have to keep you here for a while until we figure things out.” That was the last thing you remembered…

                                                              ——

Agent Hotchner stood up from the table, tapping the file against it as he got up. When all of a sudden Y/N buried her head in the table. “We’ll have you out of here soon,” he said softly. 

“Don’t lie,” she said coolly, her head popping up from the table. The troubled angry woman from before had disappeared. The woman looking at him now was calm, cool, collected…nothing like before. “Why do you people always lie?”

This wasn’t the same person. Even physically, the body language had changed. Where before, she was crossing her arms over her chest in an attempt to protect herself, now she had her hands stretched behind her back, grabbing on to the chair. Hotch knew the signs when he saw them. “What is your name?”

“I’ve already told you,” she said, the corner of her mouth ticking upward in a smirk as her neck craned from side to side. “Y/N.”

“You’re not Y/N,” he said matter-of-factly. “She doesn’t know you exist, does she?”

A low, gravelly laugh emanated from her throat as her eyes fluttered closed and she began to stretch. “You’re not as dumb as you look.” She stood up from the table, cooly walking across the room as she introduced herself. “I’m Carla. Y/N needs me.”

“Why does she need you?” Agent Hotchner asked as the two circled the room. “How long have you been with her?”

Carla had been around since the second Y/N dropped to floor after her rape. She knew that Y/N wouldn’t be able to handle the aftermath on her own, so she showed herself so that her host would make it through instead of taking a blade to her arm the way she wanted to. “Since that disgusting excuse for a human being violated her. She needs me because if I’m not here, she wants to kill herself. When that happens, I take over.”

“Did you kill Chase?” he asked. He had a feeling he knew the answer, but he desperately wanted for it to not be true. Y/N didn’t do anything wrong, but the other person inside her mind didn’t seem to care. 

Carla said nothing. Instead just smiling as she continued to circle the room, staring at Agent Hotchner like he were a fresh piece of roadkill to a hungry vulture.

“Does Y/N’s life mean nothing to you?” he asked. “She’ll go away for what you did.”

“No she won’t,” Carla said, sitting back down at the table and crossing her legs. “You have to prove it was me first. And even if you do, I just won’t let her out again. She needs to be protected and I will do whatever is necessary to keep her safe.”

“But then it’s not her life anymore. It’s yours,” he said. Reid had been through this once before. Amanda was still holding Adam hostage after all these years, and Hotch had a feeling Carla was about to do the same. “You keep talking about wanting to protect her, but you’re not. You’re not allowing her to work through her grief. You’re making her try and forget something that can’t be forgotten.”

“Sometimes that’s what it takes,” Carla said sadly. “But if effectively killing her is what it takes to save her sanity, I’ll take that chance.”

"With us" zootopia fanfic

It had been years since he last saw Zootopia. Martin DeClawe moved away when he was young to fulfill his dream to become a detective for the Zootopia police force. After gaining the smarts and skill, he was finally qualified to join the top team. He thought he deserved a little reward after his first day on the job, having caught a bank robber just hours ago.
Martin twiddled with the small cigarette he had in between his fingers, placing in between his lips. He tilted his hat down, trying to protect it from the harsh pouring rain while he made his way to the Tundra Club. There you can sit and listen to music and the singers while enjoying a nice chilled drink by the bar.
Once inside, he took of his dark blue trench-coat passing it off to one of the employers who rushed to place it on a hook to dry off at the side. The club’s walls were made out of solid once, carved precisely to resemble the inside of an igloo. Martin’s nose twitch, smelling the tobacco smoke that filled the air. He pulled on his suspenders while he made his way to an empty table near the far end of the ballroom. On stage, soft music was being played by a young polar bear dressed in a red, bright suit. He typed on the piano keys while some animals listened while eating their meals.
Martin took out his lighter and put it up to his cigarette but cursed when he found it limp and soggy, from the rain. He didn’t escape it fast enough.

“It’s not polite to swear, you know?” Said a gentle voice. A voice that he haven’t heard in years after he left Zootopia. He whirled to his right to find a bunny, an albino. With shiny snow-like fur and bright red eyes, still as curious as to when he met her when they were children. She was wearing a golden shimmering modest dress, and around her neck was a thick black strap to help carry the small box of cigars and cigarettes. Yet, when he looked at her, he had found that she had really matured over the years to when he was gone, noticing the tight and slim curves. She giggled softly when his cigarette fell out from his open mouth.
“Hello, Marty.” While his real name is Martin, he expected animals to call him by his full name but she was the exception. .

“Martha? What in the hell are you doing here?” He asked, making her smile politely.

“I’m working, this is the only job I can get in this club…I have to pay my rent somehow.” She tilted her head at him, holding her smile. “It’s so wonderful to see you again, Marty.”

He held his breath, and swallowed. It has been ten years since he last saw her. He haven’t seen her since he was thirteen but even now, he still recognized her. They met when they were just kits, at six years old. They were next-door neighbors and completely different, including being a fox and bunny. She was shy, and still is, even now he can tell by looking. Him on the other paw, was a little tyrant. Loud and obnoxious.
But one look at the shy girl behind the white picket fence and something inside changed. He did not know it then and he did not know it until after he left.
They were meant for eachother. He fell in love with her at first sight and he could never tell her. A fox and a bunny becoming mates? That seems to good to be true. Also it does not take a genius to notice that inter-species relationship is frowned upon. Sometimes even hated but that won’t stop him from ever loving her.

“I can’t believe you found me here.” He said, rising out of his chair giving her a friendly hug. He found that he had grown intensely over the years, when they were teenagers they were the same height and now he loomed over her by a foot. Her head right to his chest. She noticed it as well taking a step back while blushing lightly.

“Oh my, Marty…you have gotten tall.” She laughed, putting a paw on lips hiding back her large smile.

“I’m not the only one who changed, Cottontail.” He replied slyly. Hearing her old nickname made her stop laughing, letting out a small scowl while still holding her blush.

“Oh! I hoped you wouldn’t call me that.”

“But it’s perfect, cottontail.”

“Oh stop.” She huffed before letting out a smile. “Would you like a cigarette, Martin?”

He reached inside his pant’s pocket, feeling for his wallet. “Sure, I could use a smoke while we talk, how much?”

“It’s on the house.” She said under her breath while she hands him a lone stick. “I insist.”
He smirked and plucked it out of her paw, placing it in between his lips and lighting it with his matchstick by the flick of the wrist.

“How about that talk, eh?” He snickered motioning her to sit down beside him. She shared in his playful laughter but waved it off.

“Oh I couldn’t, my boss would get so mad, my shift haven’t ended yet.”

“Than when does it? I’ll be happy to wait all night.” He winked, making her blush again. He found it quite easy to make her feel embarrassed. “We can talk in my apartment, I’ll even treat you to some take out.”

“That sounds wonderful. I stop working in a hour, until then, I have to hurry and sell these as soon as possible.” She moved away, placing her paws underneath the large wooden box. She picked up her feet when she rushed onto the floor, hiding out cigarettes to the large group of animals waiting to buy. He watched her scurry along the room, handing out the boxes with a smile on her face. Even though she hated Tobacco. She never had a fancy for the stuff. The same thing with alcohol. He stifled a laugh noticing the glass of scotch in front of him. They really were polar opposites, like yin and yang.
He watched her more than the entertainment. Never removing his sight for more than a few seconds. It wasn’t long until it was time for her to check out. He watched her more than excited to come meet with him, practically picking up her feet. He grinned lifting himself off of the booth and suddenly a sharp cry rang out. He whirled to find that Martha, had tripped over her small heels and landed face down onto the carpet.

“Martha!” Martin yelled out rushing to her. Most of the patrons were already moving towards her, ready to pull her up. She lifted her head up slowly, rubbing the back of her head. Her face completely red.

“Oh my, no I’m okay!” She smiled towards a bison gentlemen trying to lend her his hoof. Martin bent down on one knee, looking her over.

“What happened Martha?” He asked, giving her his paw. Her ears went down becoming timid as her face grew redder.

“I-I wasn’t looking to where I was going…oh, I’m so clumsy today.” She said with a timid voice before taking his paw. He gently pulled her up to her feet.

“Ow!” Martha winced lifting her left foot. “Oh no!”

“What’s wrong?”

“I-I think I twisted my foot, oh I really am clumsy! that’s what I get for not looking.” She winced again when she tried moving it, her eyes becoming watery. “I don’t think I can walk…”

Martin sniffed. “Well that’s not a problem…” He swiftly picked her up bridal-style. Sweeping her off of her feet and into his arms. She was light as a feather when he began walking towards the exit.

“M-Martin?! P-please put me down!” Martha demanded. He had never seen her face so red before. He grinned.

“No way Cottontail. You ain’t escaping that easily, I’ll give you a ride to my apartment so we can catch up and do something about that nimble ankle of yours.”

“Please!” She continued, noticing the stares of the other animals from outside the club. “E-every animal is looking!”

“Because you’re shouting Martha.” He smirked, she closed her mouth, looking down and avoiding eye contact with the patrons. Martin chuckled as they made their way outside. He gently placed her in the passenger seat of his hardtop black convertible. Martha eyes widened by how new the car way, straight out of the warehouse. She never knew Martin could own such a car. She glance at him when he closed the door in the driver’s seat and the car into gear.

“When did you buy this Marty?”

He grinned at her question. “Ya like it? Just bought it a week ago working with the ZPD, they pay good dough.”

Her mouth moved into a happy grin. “You finally made it in the police force?”

“Sure did. Been working with the law for about two years and I got promoted. Just hearing the word Zootopia made it easy for me to accept.”

She hummed,tilting her head at him. “I’m glad you came back, Marty.”

Martin gripped the wheel when he heard the tone of her voice, it sounded genuine, almost as if she really did missed him as much as he did her. He was right.

“What about you bunny? You work as a seller now?”

“Yes, not really the job I want, what I really want to do is sing to the crowd.” She sighed happily, imagining it. “If only…maybe one of these days I’ll get a chance.”

“They’re idiots if they don’t give you a chance, Martha.” He replied sternly, he bit his cheek before asking her the next question. “And what about…a mate? Got some guy you fancy?” He asked slowly, not really sure if he wants to hear the answer. Martha twiddled her fingers, her cheeks turning a shade of pink.

“I…I had a few.” Martin’s mouth went into a straight line. “But they weren’t the right choice for me.”

He smirked slightly, careful to not let it show to her. “Good to know.”

“And you?”

He snorted. “Too busy for that sort of stuff, plus, I think my personality scare the girls.” He chuckled deeply, he wasn’t wrong about that. The way he carries himself always seen to affect those around him. Martha smiled.

“I suppose they don’t know you like I do.”

Except Martha. “Exactly, Cottontail.”
———————————————–
“-And down we go!” He set her down gently on his couch, making sure her legs were elevated on a pillow. Martha giggled at him as he grabbed ice from his freezer.

“Martin, I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

She winced when he placed the cold bag down over her ankle. “Not that bad eh?”

“M-maybe you’re right.” She cringed letting out a soft laugh. He collapsed right beside her, sitting down fully as he removed his coat, showing off his suspenders and white collar shirt. He felt Martha lean her head on his shoulder while she looked up at him.

“You changed so much.” She bluntly stated, making him shrug his shoulders.

“You think so? I should say the same about you, you changed a lot.”

“How so?”

“You’re more curvy.” He flinched when he felt a harsh slap on the knee.

“That is very crude.” She said playfully. She gave out a set of giggles making him laugh along. He set his head down over her own, making her ears do down.

“Well, it’s true.”

Martha eyed him coyly. “You look very strong, Marty.”

“That’s because I am, Cottontail. Got the scars to prove it.”

“Scars?”

“More like bullet holes…” He said bluntly, she gasped sitting up fully as she whirls at him.

“Bullet holes!?-are you playing with me?” She said with a huff. Martin flick his wrist and grabbed the collar of his shirt, giving her a grin.

“Want to see? I got one right on the shoulder.” Her eyes widen in curiosity as she leans in, nodding slightly. He pulled the collar down, popping the buttons. He moved aside the fabric, revealing his left shoulder. Right next to his collarbone, was a pinkish scar of what looked like where the bullet went through him. Martha gasped slightly, her paw shooting out towards his scar.

“What happened?” She demanded, rubbing against it with her index finger. The scar was the size of a silver coin. “When did this happen?”

“About a few months ago-!”

“A few months!?” She shouted making his ears go down.

“Hey, hey, it wasn’t fatal! I also have another one on my right side. Now that one hurt.” He laughed but quickly stopped when he noticed Martha holding a frown. He felt her fingers circle around his scar, her paw shaking slightly.

“It could have hit your heart…” She whispered grimly. Martin’s ears sprang up when he felt her paw stroke at his scar. She stared at it in a sad frown as she nimbly stroked the pinkish flesh wound. He slightly blushed, he never noticed how shiny her lips were from the red lipstick.
“Does it hurt?” She asked softly, with a hint of concern. His fur went on end when he heard her sweet angelic voice.

“Nah.” He whispered. “Nothing hurts me, this just a paper cut, you should see the one on my back.” He said raising his eyebrows mischievously. She gave him an unamused scowl. “I was just playing a joke…there’s nothing there.” He grabbed her wrist making her place her palm against his scar fully. She looked up at him and noticed how close his muzzle was to her. “Remember what you did every time I hurt myself?”

Her breath caught, a soft blush appearing. Remembering a time when they were children running into danger. Martin was the one who got hurt the most with his reckless behavior. She found the one thing that helped soothe his wounds, was a secret. Both of them wouldn’t dare tell their parents about their innocent adventures. Whenever Martin got hurt, she would lean in.

She closed her eyes. “I kiss you.”

And her lips brushed against his. He didn’t hesitate to kiss her back. He captured them in a vice grip, revealing the feelings he kept bottled up. It was like a wave, he wrapped his arms around her waist, locking her into a passionate embrace. She responded by clutching at his suspenders, gripping them and his shirt. It was as if she was under a spell because the moment she opened her eyes, the spell broke.

“O-oh my goodness!” She cried out removing herself out of his arms. “What have I done?” She covered her mouth, completely mortified. Martin blinked dumbly, wondering if he done something wrong. She clutched her chest feeling her heart race, she even touched her forehead suddenly becoming dizzy. She stood up, walking backwards away from Martin, who raised himself from the couch.

“Wait Martha-!”

“N-no it was a mistake Martin!” She cried out, her eyes already at the point to tears. “I did not mean to! P-please just forget it!”

“But Martha!-”

She rushed towards the door and fell forward, the pain in her ankle shot through her like she had been stabbed. Martin rushed towards her, catching her, a foot above the floor. She could have hurt herself even more. He was surprised when she started fighting against him. Desperate to get away.

“Let me go!”

“Martha! Get a hold of yourself, you can’t walk yet!” He yelled gripping her shoulders. Not enough to hurt her as he dragged her back to the couch. She fell with a thud and hugged herself, growing smaller as she turned away from him.

“Just…let me go home, Martin.” She whimpered, a tear running down her cheek. His ears lowered, his heart aching at the sight of her. If was as if she was afraid of him. He slowly took a seat beside her, a paw reaching out to her.

“Martha.”

She let out a shaky breath. “I-I don’t know what came over me when I kissed you!” She rambled.” I-it was just-!” She covered her mouth, not wanting to speak anymore. “I-it was wrong of me.”

He grabbed her paws, opening her tight fists, revealing her pinkish palms. Staring into her eyes, he moved her palms to his lips. She hid her face into her shoulder not wanting to look at him while his cold lips hit her paws She struggled against his lips, her protest falling on deaf ears.

“N-no! Stop it! You shouldn’t!”

He let go of her left paw, focusing more on her right. Trailing up her arm in a passionate reveal moving closer towards her face. She fought against him, but she was a weak little thing. More pacifist than anything. She never once taught herself defense. With each kiss he gave her, he began to reveal his feelings with each pause.

“You’re beautiful!…you’re perfect!….you’re kind!…” He was already passed her forearm, prompting her to raise a shaky paw in the air. She shook her head, not wanting to hear anymore. “I love you!”

Her free paw swung down, a loud slap echoed in the room. She winced by how loud it was and gasped to find Martin with his head aside. The fur on his face were pressed into the shape of her small paw. She knew underneath it, the skin was screaming out from the stinging pain. The look acrossed Martin’s face was one of shock and bewilderment, which contorted into aggravation when he touched his cheek.
Martha pulled her arms closed to her chest.

“M-Martin! I-I am so sorry! I didn’t-! I-I never meant to actually-!” His eyes narrowed when he looked back at her, making her shrink. “P-please, don’t be angry! Martin?” He lunged at her, making her scream out. “Martin!”
She shut her eyes when he grabbed her face, waiting in complete fear and dread that he might beat her in retaliation. Turning her head, she cried out when she felt him press his lips gently against her cheek. She blinked. Becoming confused as he softly kissed her soft white fur. She felt his mouth turn into a smile from each butterfly kiss he gave her. She felt his thumb from his right hand brush away her lingering tears. She held her breath when he pressed his own cheek against hers.

“How do you expect me to not love you after that?” He chuckled deeply before pulling away. His mouth moved side to side before laughing deeply. “That was some hit, Cottontail, you owe me an apology kiss after that.” She shook her head, a blush forming.

“N-no, it’s wrong! We are too different, it would be one thing if you were a bunny or I was a fox!”

“But we’re not! Martha-my little cottontail.” He growled playfully, taking her paws into his own again. She turned away, trying to calm her heart. “I loved you ever since we were children.”

“B-but…it’s against nature, you’re a predator, I’m prey.” She stated sadly finally looking back at him. “It will never work. No matter how much I may love you too.”

“I want to be with you!” He argued, clutching her paws in a desperate act. “Just looking at you makes me want to have you.” He said moving his muzzle closer to her lips. She turned away, looking down at her paws. “Martha, I will never stop loving you…”

Her lower lip quivered, a soft sob escaping. “B-but we can never tell anyone…”

She felt his paw move her head back towards him. “Than we won’t.” And pressed his lips against hers. This time, she didn’t pull away.

50 YEARS LATER

Martha hummed happily to herself in her new home. She was busy folding laundry in the living room, making sure the shirts and pants were pressed and hanged. She took out her favorite blue dress and swiftly put it on its hanger. She set it off to the side, not wanting it to be next to the other pile of clothes. Her nose wrinkled when a strong smell of nicotine filled the room. She jumped when she felt Martin’s strong arms wrap themselves around her slim waist.

“Martin!” She scolded softly, her timid voice barely breaking the air. He moved his cigarette to the side of his mouth when he placed his chin on her shoulder. Hearing her bag right into his ear. “I told you to not smoke in the house. You’re going to stink up the clean clothes.”

“Ah bah!” He grumbled. “It’s too windy out, it will take out the embers. Besides-” he tighten his grip on her, making her slap his arm, warning him not to press any closer. It was more of a tap if any. “I thought I could have more entertainment with you.”

“Oh no Marty.” She said shaking her head. “I have to put these away.” She picked up one of his brown slacks from the hamper and folded it, placing it neatly down on the couch cushion. His eyes narrowed when he saw all of clothes was taking up space on his couch.

“Than I guess we’ll just going to sit right on top of them.”

Martha’s head shot up. “Don’t you dare, Martin, I just ironed your shirts!”
She yelled out when he turned her around and pushed her down on the couch, making her lay right on top of the clothes.She shrunk when he loomed over her. Cutting off any sort of escape. He removed his cigarette, discarding it in the ashtray behind her on a table. She gave him a scowl when he grabbed her paw.

“You always do this.” She complained softly. She blushed when he gave her a tender kiss on her golden wedding ring. “I won’t be ironing your shirts again, they’re going straight into the drawer after.” She said trying to show a threatening tone. He gripped the back of the couch, his knee on the cushion beside her while he suspended himself above her fragile frame. Her eyes lowered when he came closer. Her paws moved methodically to his suspenders, tugging at them when he kissed her ears. “Are you listening, Marty?”

His lips touched her forehead next. “Of course I am…” he replied. She frowned when she pressed her face against the collar of his white shirt. Taking a breathe.

“You smell like smoke.”

He smirked and stroked her ears. “You like it.” He felt her nuzzle her nose on his shoulder, right where his scar was hidden.

“I love you.”

He smiled, falling right into place into the couch. Laying right beside her, with his arms protecting her. “I love ya too.”

They both jumped when they heard a rapping on their front door, a loud voice rang from the other side.

“Hey, ya old fox! We’re here for a visit!” Shouted an obnoxious voice. Martin cursed bitterly under his breath making Martha giggle silently.

“Martha! I made you guys a carrot cake!” Yelled a second voice. “Are you home?”

Martin growled deeply, his head falling into her neck. His hot breath hitting her fur when he complained.

“I forgot those two were coming over.” Martha shifted under him.

“We should let them in…”

“No!” He whispered loudly. “If we stay quiet they’ll go away!”

“Martin! That is very rude.” He grumbled when she gave him a small kiss on the nose. “Answer the door, and please be polite…it’s nice to have them visit.” She began to move away, only to feel his arms tighten. She rolled her eyes, giving him a smile. “It’s only for a couple of hours, and after we can continue.”

He sighed. “Alright, I’ll bring them in.” He jumped when he heard their guest, bang on the door again.

“Marty! The cake is getting blown around! Whiskers, can’t hold it any longer!”

The old fox jerked forward, baring his teeth in annoyance. “Call me Marty again, Flat-Top, and you’re going to get bent!” He yelled out. Martha gasped loudly.

“Martin!”

Nick cringed from the harsh voice from inside the house, making Judy glare at him.

“You know he doesn’t like it when you call him that and would it kill you to be polite this time?”

He crossed his arms. “I’m polite. I’m nothing but polite Whiskers.”

She groaned softly, hearing the door unlock. “Better not say some smart joke to them again, I’m pretty sure Mr. DeClawe is going to punch yo-Oh! Hello, are we late?” She said giving the old couple a forced smile.

————————————————
Another Martha and DeClawe story! Just something to keep you guys entertain with until I finish with part 2 of “two week trial”
I’ll post the edited version in a Reblog ^_^