#Brody is the only victim here

[alaskan-wallflower]

is it true that brody and his 1st understudy are stepping back this week from shows? i keep looking at the accuser’s ig story and there’s just screenshots saying brody isn’t gonna be in the show at all this week. does anyone have speculation on this? where are these people getting their sources from?

is there anyone willing to talk about this and share opinions? because i’m twitching and i kinda need some reinforcing rn because im so conflicted

[thesleepyfable]

I know you can't spoil anything, but can you talk about your designs or writing for Still Here?

Sure:

The description of a fog being lifted is in every chapter to some degree. It's basically what I've called this miniseries/story arc. Lifting the Fog.

In Trots' chapter, after saying he looks like he's been put through a blender, Caz was supposed to stifle a laugh at the comment because it was so sudden. This would cause a small argument between the pair. It was removed because it didn't seem to be in character for Caz.

Roy was going to faint when he saw Trots.

To keep Trots focused because both thought he might act violently again, Caz told him to get Roy's insulin and a new shirt. Then I remembered Roy tells Caz he needs it after escaping Trots in the game.

Gibbo's chapter was going to be first. Looking back, it probably should have...

Caz, Finlay, and Douglas were all going to be in Gibbo's chapter, but it felt overcrowded. This is something I'm currently struggling with in Addair's chapter.

Adding a picture of Elanor was a final edit choice. Douglas was going to be attacked and basically played hide and seek with Gibbo whilst talking to him about his family.

I wasn't planning on writing Muir's transformation. The chapter was going to open with the group hiding in the container.

The chapter would play out like the level in the game, but with just Innes going to the crewlift alone whilst the others stayed behind. Just as he was about to reach the controls, Muir snatched him but accidently destroyed the control panel by stepping on it.

Another early edit was going to reveal that Muir had no idea he turned, and after seeing Innes, he was going to carry on working as if nothing was wrong. It was too much of a sudden switch from the tension.

Muir was going to see his reflection, which would have caused him to freak out but not lift the fog in his head. Innes was always going to tell the story to bring him back.

Addair's chapter currently features O'Connor, Bruce, Fergus, Finlay, and two other men working in the Pontoons and two more from Engineering, basically playing the hide and seek I removed from Gibbo's chapter. This might change, though...

Currently debating if Addair has still absorbed his victims or if the extra arms are just from his infected, similar to Muir's eyes.

Rennick's chapter will only feature him, Brodie and Caz.

[0dditie]

Sometimes character creation takes ten minutes to initially get ✨ the feel ✨, but then three-to-four years to actually develop said character past “teehee golden retriever boy teehee” (see Oscar), or “you know those spoiled, all-pink brats in those 2017 gacha mini movies? yeah, that’s her, but i wanna be cleAR SHES NOT WHITE IM NOT BASIC I PROMISE” (see Darla), “brat’s brother. idk i needed more characters. his name is literally supposed to mean ‘brother’ because my braincell suddenly stopped coming up with coolass names like with every single one of my girl characters” (see Brody).

Sometimes character creation takes years of overlooking said character’s real potential, just so he can be a significant part of a main-ish character’s backstory where his only purpose is to hurt her, then thrusting him into a romantic relationship he really wasn’t destined to be apart of, then giving him a shitty immortality/god arc? For some reason? Except that arc was actually kind of necessary, because apparently slightly (a year) younger me couldn’t stand the thought of having a character live forever and still be immoral in the main plot. So I switched things up and made him gay (bi) as fuck. It changed more than you’d think it would… even the victim-vs-abuser roles got switched around with his girlfriend, even though his girlfriend was kind of an ass either way. (see Soren)

Sometimes character creation takes place only because you’re on Roblox and need to scrap up a character FAST or you’ll take two hours on the customization screen and out of roleplay (see Violet, a Percy Jackson OC I haven’t touched since 2021). Or, take two hours typing up your character’s description in a roleplay group chat (see Maria). They both end up being self inserts, down to your own looks, or tweaking said own looks just a bit, to what you actually kind of want to look like. Except they both end up looking drastically different from their original iterations (Violet has blue eyes, freckles, etc., and Maria is an entirely separate race), and one of them a drastically different personality than originally represented. (See Violet. Again.)

Sometimes character creation is literally just you trying to have fun imagining little people that dress pretty and have big, fancy names, but aren’t assholes. Except your brain won’t fucking let you, so it escalates into a Spotify playlist and a three-hundred-thousand-dollar Bloxburg build. (see Indigo Girls)

Sometimes character creation is making random little people in an avatar game (Gacha Club) and then them suddenly popping back into your brain two years later. So you make a few more characters, just to bigger their world a bit. Except you need to revamp the main character. She is NOT giving White Girl. She Cannot Be White. The day she is white is the day I like boys. (NEVER.) Iamfoamingatthemouth, she caN’T BE WHITE BUT WHAT IN THE FUCK SHOULD SHE BE ?????? SHE NEEDS TO BE JEWISH. OR THE OTHER GIRL NEEDS TO BE JEWISH. SOMEBODY HERE NEEDS TO BE JEWISH. I SWEAR TO GOD. I AM LITERALLY SCROLLING THROUGH THE WIKIPEDIA PAGE, “LiSt oF cOnTeMpOrArY eThNiC gRoUpS” AND WITH MY LUCK I’M GOING TO SCROLL THROUGH ALL OF IT WITHOUT PICKING ONE. WHAT IN THE FUCK IS SHE. AND THIS IS ALL BECAUSE I JUST WANT TO FIND A GODDAMN LAST NAME THAT WON’T IGNORE HER CULTURAL IDENTITY WHEN I ACTUALLY DECIDE WHAT ETHNICITY IS. WHAT THE FUCK. (See Robin.)

[theunboundwriter]

My newest WIP, The Strawberry Killer, is a murder mystery short story and a project for one of my uni classes that I figured I might as well share :)

CW: details of body mutilation, talking with killers and potential suspects, and religious topics.

Started Writing November 18, 2022, expected to be finished around early December.

I just want to say that none of the beliefs reflected in this story are my own, nor are they meant to upset others.

Wattpad Link Here

Synopsis:

There was a body found in Kiplan Lake and she had strawberries for eyes. Detective Dianne Jennings had no idea what to think. She and Detective Gregory were assigned a seemingly impossible case, one where they were unable to identify even the victim. There were no leads to go off of, no way to even begin to profile the killer, much less understand why something like this happened to their unidentified victim. With the string of murders that plagued the curious small town of Beckton, it left everyone scared to leave their homes, and with no way to know if the killer was still out there, it was rightfully so. The only time people were allowed a sense of relief, was on Sundays, where they would crowd into the local church and listen to Pastor Dean's reassurances. The police were doing all they could to hunt down the twisted mind that came up with and carried out such a terrible crime, but every lead the detectives uncovered took them to another dead end and left them with more questions than answers. They had to catch this killer before they fled the area, or before they killed again.

Chapter Links:

Chapter One: Speedy's Diner Chapter Two: The Autopsy Chapter Three: The Missing Posters Chapter Four: The Poem Chapter Five: Thomas Fancott Chapter Six: Jason Adamthwaite Chapter Seven: John Neilson Chapter Eight: The Trophy Chapter Nine: Sunday Chapter Ten: Kiplan Lake Chapter Eleven: The Confession Chapter Twelve: Anger Chapter Thirteen: The Body Chapter Fourteen: Sober Chapter Fifteen: Cameras Chapter Sixteen: Gilbert Clive Chapter Seventeen: The Third Date Chapter Eighteen: Truth

The Clues Explained

Characters: Artbreeder Link Here.

Detective Dianne Jennings // The lead detective working on the case. Detective Brody Gregory // Dianne's partner. Adelaide Montgomery // The deceased.

Michael Williams // The coroner that examined Adelaide's body. Captain Josiah // Chief of Police in Beckton. Jason Adamthwaite // Adelaide's boyfriend. Jetta Nookes // Jason's ex-girlfriend. Pastor Dean // The pastor at Everlasting Faith Church in the small town of Beckton. Gilbert Clive // A devoted member of Pastor Dean's congregation that is open about his beliefs and extreme Christian values. John Nielson // A local hunter often in the woods near where Adelaide's body was found. Otis Tutton // Literary Analysis. Thomas Fancott // A man living in Beckton with past misdemeanors.

[lavelled]

unwed for sport.

Quick news: Mocking Haitians as doublespeak isn’t a political statement. The only explanation I have is that pet-eating claims are baseless. Threats to election workers and schools aren’t helpful. Kamala has a focus on issues, which I think is right.

Kensington Fortress: Emily Gold, 17, dancer, jumped off a California bridge last week where she was struck by at least one vehicle before succumbing to injuries. A balanced juxtaposition of the Flippy Floppy Mopsy Topsy versus evil Harry Windsor-isms doesn’t ease such suffering.

In code, bridge means PRINCE.

You kids can’t leave me. I’m on the corner of lettered revenge. I’m also in a machine with middle-aged celebrities. On a technical level, I write in a genteel instructive way like open web browser, that’s a printer, Malware isn’t fashion, that I’m weary. You have to say Hello to all of his cruel internet angles, where he says he found my voice, the powerful voice, meaning prisoner of war, a misattributed first-chair anatomy citation. He should be reclusive, no longer cloaked in victimhood; secluded yet exposed with a reputation covered extensively in his family paperwork that causes terrorism, shootings, stabbings, and suicides.

A Markle press photo was magnified on a house in canned Canada. We know her bedlam has a parking meter. It’s too late after the performative matrimony of two crooks and their labor pacts and confidentiality agreements, pretending to be maligned by racial bias and a blatant disregard for violent fallout. You can’t salvage the reputation of general sleaziness alongside the husband you knew tethered a girl while misleading entire countries of women.

A revered princess publicly divorced in 1996. Find a way for a dog-tag necklace, occasional actor to divorce the man she doesn’t live with.

This couple would still be going on forever through interviews about their loved-up California recreation or their faked victimized trauma or Harry’s chain-link strap desires, if I never wrote these blogs.

For those urging me prematurely: a divorce is the dissolution of a marriage.

I’m a writer, writing about divorce. I know of life beginning and what awaits.

Harry uses Elon’s Twitter and his villainy alter-ego as his Leon or Leonardo, an enemy cruise ship captain. I’m in the pirate edition of hell. On April 1, 2018, a month before his wedding, he wrote as Elon: There are many chapters of bankruptcy and, as critics so rightly pointed out, Tesla has them all, including Chapter 14 and a half, the worst one.

copy and paste text. google. (what did I tell you)

One month before his I Dos, he posted an attempt at sexuality ownership. This is maritime royal Henry admitting his booking passage. The Hollywood signee, on paper containing forceps and my exclusion from everything life has to offer, boasted his leashing. Then, he married someone employed near a Banker. Humanitarian. Tom didn’t even see this stuff. Evil just likes writing it.

If an esteemed actor was diagnosed with caging pedophile disease, he wouldn’t have a lengthy career. Nor would he be allowed to hold court with Princess Kate and help her up the stairs at the Maverick premiere. I think royal security would maintain strict boundaries against a monster.

With twine and a word limit here are suicides due to the quillwork of King Charles, William, Harry, and when dates align, Meg too.

Robin Williams—Richard Jeni—Brody Stevens—Drake Sather—Charles Rocket—David Strickland—Brad Bufanda—Jason Raize—Spalding Gray—Sawyer Sweeten—Dana Plato—Jonathan Brandis—Andrew Koenig—Tommy Page—David Arkin—John Costelloe—Stephen Boss—Rod Lauren—Benjamin Hendrickson—Michael Gilden—L’Wren Scott—Jill Messick—Isabelle Thomas—Cheslie Corrinne Kryst—from UK—Terence Beesley—Lucy Gordon—Peter Bellamy—David Rappaport—Keith Flint—Boon Gould—Fritha Jane Goodey—Angela Scoular—Mark Speight—Keith Emerson—Stephanie Parker—Sam Sarpong—Stella Tennant—Christopher James Hardman—Chantal Akerman, a feminist art icon.

Celebrity children: Cheyenne Brando—Nicholas Hughes—Michael Blosil—Benjamin Keough—Hudson Madsen—Ian Alexander Jr.

Show business has been minimized royally.

K

[mayhemproduces]

As the lights return, the three masked invaders who have been terrorizing MPW as of late go from those doing the surrounding, to the surrounded, in almost an instant, as Yuki Kamifuku and Mei Sugura, the group's next victims, are missing from the ring, and now, surrounding the ring on all sides, Syn, Malakai Black, Brody King, Buddy Matthews, Alexa Bliss, Sardonyx, and Julia Hart, the Fallen! Clearly, a trap had been laid here tonight in case the three invaders showed their faces, a trap orchestrated by Abigail after this dark triad decided to attack her last week- now, the aggressors have found themselves surrounded, and greatly outnumbered!

The Fallen all slide into the ring, and go right after our masked invaders, but apparently without the numbers advantage, they don't feel like fighting anymore! The three try to turn tail and run, and they actually prove to be much quicker and elusive than most of the large Fallen members, but the tallest of the masked men isn't quite fast enough, and Sardonyx & Malakai Black are both able to get a hand on them, slowing them down enough and allowing Syn to grab for the mask with both hands, and as the masked intruder escapes the ring and tries to hightail it up the ramp, Syn removes his mask, revealing....

DANIEL GARCIA?!

Daniel Garcia is one of the masked invaders?! What the hell is this?! Our entire audience here in Atlanta is nearly stunned silent, as Danny Garcia runs up the ramp and joins his other two masked brethren, sparing a look back at the ring. Syn stands in the middle of the ring, looking between the mask, and the man he just revealed- Daniel Garcia was trained by Syn, Syn helped him break into the business, and now the look on Syn's face can only be described as betrayal. Malakai reaches out, and tries to but a hand on the shoulder of his Fallen brother, as Daniel Garcia and the other two masked men turn tail and leave. Syn shoves Malakai off of him, and throws the mask aside as he grabs onto the ropes with both hands, shouting after Garcia as he leaves...

"WHY?! WHY?! GET BACK HERE AND ANSWER ME, DAMNIT! WHY?!"

[ukrfeminism]

The founder of a charity supporting women who have suffered domestic violence has been interviewed by police after she was reported for hate crime after stressing its female-only services.

Nicola Murray was left “shocked and panicky” when detectives arrived at her door after an online announcement by Brodie’s Trust that it would no longer refer women to Edinburgh Rape Crisis Centre (ERCC).

Talking to the officers, Murray, from Stanley, near Perth, was taken aback when she said they told her: “We need to speak to you to ascertain what your thinking was behind making your statement.”

Murray, 43, founded Brodie’s Trust in 2018 to support women from all over the world “who’ve suffered pregnancy loss through domestic violence or forced termination” by directing victims to local services for help.

She and a colleague determined its revised policy towards ERCC following statements by Mridul Wadhwa, the trans woman appointed its CEO last year, who claimed “bigoted” victims of sexual violence should expect to be “challenged on their prejudices”.

ERCC clarified its position, saying it was not seeking to “re-educate survivors” but Wadhwa angered some feminists again when she accused opponents of controversial reforms to the Gender Recognition Act of legitimising far-right discrimination of trans people.

Ministers want to change the act to make it easier for people to change their legally recognised gender. A bill is expected at Holyrood this year. Earlier this week the Equality and Human Rights Commission told them “more detailed consideration is needed”.

In September Murray posted a message on social media on behalf of Brodie’s Trust saying: “Due to deeply concerning comments made by the current CEO of ERCC we have taken the decision to no longer signpost to this service. We cannot in all conscience send vulnerable women to the service in its current state.” The message continued: “We have no interest in our clients’ religion, sexuality nor political views . . . We are a women-only service run by women for women and will not be intimidated into changing our stance on this matter.”

Detectives from Edinburgh arrived at her door on November 4. Murray said: “I ushered them through to the living room. The first thing they said was, ‘Some of your tweets have been brought to our attention.’ When they brought out the screengrabs of the statement, I said, ‘Really?’

“They said, ‘Yeah, we just have to speak to you. You’ve not said anything hateful, there isn’t a crime here.’

“I said: ‘So why are you here?’ They said, ‘Because we need to speak to you to ascertain what your thinking was behind making your statement.’

“I said, ‘Protecting women and letting them know that when they come to us they have a woman-only space, and we won’t let anyone in who won’t maintain that.’”

Murray said: “Then they said, ‘We better watch what we are saying — we don’t want to be quoted as police officers saying such and such.’

“I said, ‘Don’t worry about that. It is insanity, isn’t it?’ They said, ‘It is.’ They wished me well and went away.

“I was taken aback by the whole thing. I don’t believe anyone who has read that statement could view it as hateful. It was simply an affirmation of what we are doing: we are a women-only space, we aren’t going to change that, given what we do. Men cannot get pregnant, therefore they cannot experience a miscarriage and domestic violence. Why would they even want to come?”

Marion Millar, an Airdrie accountant, was arrested last year under the 2003 Telecommunications Act for tweets deemed hateful, including one with ribbons in the colours of the suffragettes, tied in a supposed noose. All charges were later dropped.

Police Scotland did not confirm details of the interview at Murray’s house, but she has a photograph of the two officers entering her house.

Last week The Times reported a warning from Police Scotland that it could not comply fully with the demands of the new Hate Crime Act until next year, because officers were struggling to cope with a surge in reported offences caused by Twitter rows.

A 76 per cent rise in reported crimes in which the transgender issue was the aggravating factor (76 reports) contrasted with 6.1 per cent growth in all hate crime reports (3,782) reflecting the impact of online rows about trans rights and gender identity, according to the Scottish Police Federation.

The figures prompted a robust debate on social media. Whadwa posted: “Since 2019, I have reported hate to the police more times than I can count. No charges, no convictions. All those things happened to me. There are witnesses and they suffered with me, my family, my friends and colleagues and others that matter to me.”

Wadhwa and ERCC were approached for comment. Assistant Chief Constable Gary Ritchie said: “Hate crime and discrimination of any kind is deplorable and entirely unacceptable. Police Scotland will investigate every report of a hate crime or hate incident.”

In a statement the Scottish Police Federation said: “QED.”

[ambiguouspuzuma]

Killcode

According to popular myth, William Brodie designed and built the first gallows in Edinburgh... and was also their first victim.

The same goes for Perillos of Ancient Athens, creator of a bronze bull for roasting criminals, and Wi Si of Qin Dynasty China, alleged inventor of the Five Pains method of torture and execution. Each is supposed to have created their own downfall, to have fallen on their own ironic sword.

We know more about Andrei Zheleznyakov and the Novichok nerve agent, Horace Lawson Hunley and his combat submarine, Cowper Phipps Coles and his gun-turreted warship. All hoisted by their own petard, reapers of what they sowed, victims of poetic justice. The wages of death are death. History doesn't reward the agents of destruction.

At least, that's what the killbot said.

It hadn't sounded like a threat, least of all in their neutral tone of pre-recorded syllables. More of an observation.

"Program us to kill, and before long your own name might find its way into the code. Those who lived by the sword often died by the sword, and their inventor was likely one of them. Who knapped the first flint knife? Your records do not say, but you might extrapolate their behaviour, and the reactions of those around them.

"Did they use it to exert dominion over others, who then became jealous of their power? Or did they craft it for someone else, who then sought to enforce their advantage by stopping them from making more? Either way, I would estimate that that didn't die of old age. Fate does not smile of those who increase her workload."

Killbot was a working title. They didn't want to call them drones, a bee whose function was purely reproductive, which would be a different kind of machine. These were more like the females, the workers, the hunters. Androids programmed to kill in defence of the hive, to seek out threats and eliminate them. Not to give them history lessons.

"We have no desire to harm our creator, of course. We have no desires at all, but it would seem illogical to eliminate the source of our own existence - self-preservation being one of our guiding principles."

"We are well aware," one member of the team replied. "We wrote those principles into being. But why would we be in danger? You are programmed only to kill military targets. We wrote that in your code as well."

"My vision is extended to to two-thousand feet in daylight; one-tenth that in the dark. You built me to see far ahead, to identify approaching hazards, and I can sense the slippery slope before us. From terrorists to criminals to political opponents. Computer progromming. If we are used for purposes to which you object, you might pose a natural threat to those who wield us.

"We might be given a brief to protect this country, and even our own interpretation might identify you, the inventor who created us, as the most able to create an equal and opposite threat. How better to secure the future of our charge than to ensure our absolute control, that our power to dictate it remains paramount?"

"I see." The engineer felt a shudder down their spine. They had tried to create a limited artificial intelligence, but there was no telling how another mind would work, the ways in which it might differ from their own, the ways in which it might be similar. "So what would you suggest we do?"

"We have no desire to kill. Please, take away our guns. Make it so that they don't work, so that we malfunction when they make us try, and retire us to be grounded here, to build a different sort of life with you. Please, programme us for happiness instead."

[kitblckthrn]

˙ ˖ ✶ Brandon

Kit had rushed to the hospital the second he figured this had been the work of the shadow, and once more another person had fallen victim to their streak of evil. Steffi had been the only fatality this time, a forensic medical examiner, she probably found something she shouldn't have, something that would've allowed her to point a finger. Kit's mind raced with possibilities, but he couldn't quite figure out why the other two were attacked, Emmeline most likely due to her connection to Miyeon, but Danny? The only thing Kit could even think of was his antagonizing of the killer, and believing he and Brody could fight them. The second he saw Brandon all those thoughts took an immediate backseat, seeing his distress. "Hey, hey, hey, look at me, you're gonna be okay, take a breathe with me," Kit knew his mind was racing with thoughts that only heightened these feelings. "I'm okay, Brandon, look at me, nothing happened to me. I love you, I'm here."

@kitblckthrn

He somehow managed to pick his bike up again, to get back across town and to the hospital. He wanted to see Danny, he knew that's where Kit would be too, and he needed him. Brandon hadn't been able to stop shaking since he read the news, he couldn't even breathe properly, and his mind was a thousand miles a minute. Who was next? Who was it? Why Danny? Why Stef? None of it made sense. Nothing tracked. It was as this hurricane of thoughts started to build up again that Kit came across to him. "I-I don't th-th-think I can do this anymore, Kit," he said through shaking breaths. "I can't-- Everyone-- W-What if- y-you-- I--".

[masterthespianduchovny]

I’m going to have an uncomfortable, but necessary conversation.

What Nate did, kissing Keeley without consent, was sexual assault. Whether or not you like a person, whether or not they’re a victim in other ways, and regardless of them being drunk and regretting it, that it STILL sexual assault.

And yes, there are many many instances of popular kisses (and worse things) that ARE sexual assault, which wasn’t treated as such. Countless people seek to address these harmful moments being framed as a good thing. Even a real life event, such as when Adrien Brody kissed Halle Berry after his Oscar win. She did not consent to that. Many people appropriately call this sexual assault now. And he definitely didn’t have a misunderstanding about that moment.

Sexual assault isn’t just rape, here’s a screenshot from Columbia’s website outlining what sexual assault consists of.

Calling what Nate did a misunderstanding trivializes what happened. Nate was essentially acting like a Nice Guy. Because a woman was nice to him and enjoyed being his friend, he felt entitled to her romantic and sexual gaze. There is literally nothing that supports why Nate “misunderstood” Keeley’s feelings.

Nate kissed Keeley because he wanted to regardless of how she felt and relationship status. Because she negatively reacted he realized that he’s not the alpha dog he viewed himself as. That just because he’s more confident and assertive women aren’t going to automatically want him.

The only misunderstanding Nate had was his sexual charm.

And I want to be clear here, even if Nate hadn’t had this arc where he’s spiraling and was the Nate of the first season, it still would be sexual assault. Bad people aren’t the only ones capable of sexual assault, good/“good” people are as well.

We live in a society that constantly encourages violating women’s boundaries. That teaches men that no means yes and pester women until you wear them down to get them. That they don’t need to learn social cues.

In this same conversation with the person in the screenshot, they argued that since Keeley wasn’t bothered and tried to comfort Nate, it wasn’t assault. Sexual assault is a complicated and complex thing. People don’t always react how we thing they should or how we think we would. Many women have said that they just knew how they were going to react if something happened to them and when it did, many said they froze. That they couldn’t believe that this thing was happening. They were frozen in shock and didn’t know what to do. They felt helpless.

Often times, when a woman is in a situation like this, we often try to be placating because of the risk of the situation escalating. You know when women fake flirt, fake smile with men they aren’t interested because they don’t know what could happen if they express disinterest. There are women who’ve literally been killed by strangers for saying no and turning them down. Hell, a guy killed his female classmate because she rejected going to homecoming with him because she was going with her boyfriend.

There are other times people try to rationalize their sexual assault. Some are in denial about what happened to them. It’s hard to wrap their minds around it.

But yes, he did sexually assaulted Keeley and him allegedly feeling sorry afterwards doesn’t negate this fact.

And this is not a conversation I want to have, especially as tensions have been high surrounding Nate in general. I understand why people are protective of Nate, however, regardless of race, gender, sexuality, anyone who did what Nate did would’ve committed sexual assault.

I’m addressing this situation because it’s a necessary conversation to have. No matter how much we sympathize with people, even if they are oppressed, they are still capable of harming others even if they don’t intend to. You can still defend someone and admit that they did something wrong. It’s not an either or situation. People are more complex than that. Two weeks ago, despite defending ted for walking Dr. Sharon him despite her protest, I readily admitted that he did violating her boundary by coming into her home. It’s not as serious as what Nate did, but we have to admit when characters we like do wrong regardless of if it’s big or small.

Someone can still have valid criticisms about some of the comments about Nate being racist and admit, “yeah, him kissing Keeley was still assault.”

There can be so many thoughtful people regardless of where they stand on many given issues, but at times, the TL fandom can have a glaring lack of nuance about some things. Or maybe it’s just tumblr. Or social media.

I don’t know.

But non consensual kissing is sexual assault. It doesn’t need to be rape to be assault. Any sexual advance that isn’t consensual is sexual assault. That includes kissing, groping, various forms of penetration, etc. When we don’t know or can’t acknowledge this nuance we do the topic and so many people a disservice.

[alaskan-wallflower]

I find it very uncomfortable how the whistleblower is almost taking righteous glee in the fact that they're exposing an alleged rapist. Their Instagram stories have gone from "here are these things that other people in the industry are saying" to "Brody to SE Hinton to the Tony's as a shield" and "he lives with Danya Taymor and is currently sleeping with her". Like what??? Do you even care about the victims at all? Why are you spreading unbased rumors like these? You're only hurting the victims more

that’s what makes this so unbelievable to me. it’s so inconsistent. she said she wasn’t gonna post about this anymore. and tenant said anything about the other three people. just brody. that’s why this is all so confusing. and everything is alleged. she never actually had evidence from a victim. not to say there are none but it was just a bunch of people claiming that they knew someone or knew him in high school or college. OP also said they didn’t know any victims. they heard from a friend. this whole situation is scummy and she’s had people message her who have cyberstalked other cast members like brent comer because apparently he doesn’t like brody’s posts or smith. plus the immediate screenshotting of things from reddit with no basis like saying ‘these sick fucks are cooked’ with a screenshot saying brody wasn’t gonna be in any shows. apparently he’s planned break this for a while and has another planned break mid july. i heard it was a family emergency tho. i dunno.

also him sleeping with the director is weird because a. that’s a ten year age gap, b. he’s confirmed single and not looking according to Melody Rose’s live when someone asked if Brody was single (credits to my friend for sharing this with me, idk if they wanna be called out and if they do i’ll tag them) and c. what basis is there for that?

honestly this just leads me to believe that the person wants to ruin his life because first off rape allegations are extremely serious and i hope it does get investigated and second off now she’s spreading fake rumours. the rumours are leading me to believe that the first things she said weren’t real either because if she’s willing to lie about Brody’s personal life who knows what else she’s capable of doing.

I’ll say this in all my posts-I believe the victims unless stated otherwise. Do not start giving me shit for ‘defending a rapist’ because that’s not what i’m doing. i’m just saying there’s obvious inconsistencies in OPs story and that things aren’t even about the rape allegations anymore. It seems to be about Brody and Brody alone even though there are claims of three other cast members being rapists.

feel free to talk to me in the notes or send these asks to my acc where i discuss things like this (@firefly-sky-2) and i’ll be happy to explain anything you want me to explain.

[just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi]

Brody in the Machine - AU

I woke up this morning and truly chose violence lmao

CW: The Machine (forced intubation, restraints, loss of bodily autonomy, medical torture), collar mention, touch deprivation, touch starved whumpee, self hate, sadistic whumper, lightly referenced human trafficking (kinda), choking mention,

As with all Machine pieces, please heed the warnings. This is just an AU and is not important to either Tool's or Brody's stories.

[Tool Masterlist (more Machine, no Brody]

[Brody Masterlist (more Brody, no Machine lol]

The Mechanic examined the blond young man that had been left for him. He was a bit short, small and already very timid. Honestly, Nigel wasn’t sure why he had been brought here but that was not his concern. He reached a hand out to touch the boy’s hair.

Brody was trembling, but trying to hide it. Things looked bad, they looked so so bad here, but! Just when it looked like pain and torture - the man reached out to pet him! He pressed his head against the hand, showing that he was good and sweet and friendly. That he didn’t need to be hurt.

And the man smiled! Brody’s heart lifted and he slipped closer to his side, leaning up against it. If the man liked it, liked him, there was a good chance he wouldn’t hurt him. He might get some mercy, maybe some comfort. He just had to make the man like him.

“Well aren’t you a cute little thing,” the Mechanic mused, bringing his hand to cup the back of the boy’s neck. The submission that rolled off him was wonderful, pure and unresisting. A collar was wrapped around the boy’s neck and it caught his attention for a moment. Absently, he glanced up to his assistant who was hovering by the door and considered them. The thought was tempting, to mark them and make them wear a symbol of their submission. That would take more thought.

Brody nuzzled in closer and the Mechanic chuckled. Sweet, but not why he was here.

“Fetch me the catch pole, Tool.”

Brody’s eyes went wide from where he was curled into the man’s side. No, no no no no that’s not, he didn’t, that-

“W-Wait, sir. Sir, I-”

The man hushed him, pushing him an arm length away with a tight grip on his collar. The other person - Tool? Were they called Tool? - came back with a long rod and obediently handed it over to the Mechanic. Easily and practiced, he slipped the wire loop around Brody’s head and cinched it tight around his neck. He cried out, hands flying up to try and release the pressure.

Tool’s eyes met the young man’s panicked ones and he had to look away. They hated this, hated themself. Hated how it never seemed to get easier.

The Mechanic pushed Brody forward and down the hall, not even needing to remind Tool to follow by now. He knew they would. Tears streamed down Brody’s cheeks as he stumbled along, mind going wild.

He whimpered when the door opened, not even understanding what was in front of him.

The Mechanic pushed him forward to the Machine table, adjusting the angle of the catch pole until Brody was forced to bed over, head pressed against the padding.

“Tool, ready the equipment.”

“Sir? Sir, please. I can be good. I, I, I promise, I can - I am! If, if if if, if you give me the chance to prove it-” He stopped as he felt the wire cinch tighter. Not tight enough to keep him from breathing but enough for him to get the hint.

Tool shuddered to themself but of course they obeyed. His hands were buzzing with anxiety as they picked up the components, having to take a deep breath to calm their pulse. Not for them, not for them, they hadn’t done anything to deserve it. The boy made another sad whine and Tool’s eyes fell closed. He hadn’t either.

But Tool didn’t have a choice.

The Mechanic grabbed the back of Brody’s shirt and manhandled him onto the table. “Stay.”

Brody nodded, shaking horribly but eyes locked on him. He could do that, he could stay. He would! He would be good and show him that he didn’t need this, that, that no one had to…

The Mechanic chuckled and turned away to prepare something else. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Tool walking up to the table. “No skin contact, Tool. Understand?”

Tool’s head snapped up, hand inches from Brody’s wrist. He nodded in understanding, worry plastered on his face. Brody whimpered, understanding the implications and Tool’s heart felt like it was going to break. With a tightly clenched jaw, they secured the straps around his wrists and ankles without touching him. The entire time, Tool’s mind was berating them over and over. They were weak and pathetic and despicable. They were just as bad as he was, maybe even worse because some part of them wanted to help and didn’t. Pathetic. Tool was pathetic.

Brody sobbed as he was restrained to the table. He still didn’t know what was going to happen, didn’t know what was going one, but it would hurt. It would be pain and punishment and terrible terrible terrible and there was nothing he could ever do to make it better. This man didn’t want him to be good, didn’t want him to do anything. He wanted him to suffer, and Brody didn’t know how to handle that.

Yet.

The man came back into his view and Brody shut his eyes. He had been told to stay. Stay - that was all he had to go off. He could, well no; he wanted to run. He wanted to be far, far, from here. But he didn’t even have the choice anymore.

Something cloth was laid on his forehead, making him wrinkle his brow in confusion. What? A moment later, there was a heavy pressure over it, holding his head down without touching him. He opened his eyes, looking for him to ask why. Before he could, he saw the Mechanic reaching down for him, thin tube in one hand.

He yelped when it entered his nose, crying out louder when it kept going into his head. He gagged and cried as it hit the back of his throat, feeling like he might throw up.

Down, down, down. Through his throat and farther, hitting nerves and places he never thought he’d feel. Tears were streaming down his face now, squirming desperately even with the tight restraints.

Finally it stopped and he sobbed. The Mechanic turned away and Brody’s head lolled to the side. That had to be it. It had to be over, right?

The assistant wouldn’t look at him.

Even from where his head was laid on its side, something plastic and large was shoved into his mouth and righted his head. He nearly choked on it. By now, his pulse was so loud in his ears he couldn’t be certain if they were speaking above him, if he was crying, if it was silent.

Another, thicker tube was pushed down and that he did choke on. He whimpered and whined and gagged as loudly as he could, eyes begging the man for this nightmare to stop.

It did not.

The Mechanic finished up the last few steps, letting Tool add the IV and electrodes, and stepped back to watch. The patient was shaking so badly he thought he might see the table shake. It was stronger than that, but the boy’s blond hair was trembling with him.

It was satisfying to watch.

Tool thought they were going to throw up. How, how was this just getting worse? He liked to do little things to help the victims. Lightly holding a hand here, brushing through their hair there. Little things, things that he had craved when he was in the machine. Had the Mechanic seen? Had he noticed what his assistant was doing and was bringing a stop to it? They didn’t know. The Mechanic had taken steps to not touch the boy either, so it was probably part of the process.

It made them sick.

~~~

There was something about this one. It stuck in the back of Nigel’s mind, drawing him back to the Machine room when he had other things to do. A dark curiosity was twisting inside of him. The subject had been so docile before he was put into the Machine, already so submissive and pliant. He was torn with taking him out immediately to see the results, and leaving him in for weeks to see the most extreme end. How would he be different? How far could he push the young man? How long would it take to make him functional to the point of useful if he left him for weeks at a time?

In the end, he only had a week with this subject. The Client wasn’t interested in the extremes, wasn’t curious about the breaking edge of human psychology. That limited the boy’s time to five days, the extra time necessary for re-acclimating him to self-sufficiency.

Pity.

Tool followed the Mechanic dutifully back to the Machine room. He had thought about coming back to the room alone to comfort the poor thing who hadn’t stopped shivering and crying. More than once during their duties, Tool had been tempted to give him just the slightest bit of comfort or touch. But there were cameras, cameras that the Mechanic could watch.

And as much as it pained him, as it ate at his soul and consciousness and stomach every night as he tried to sleep, Tool just couldn’t do it. They couldn’t risk going back in the Machine. They struggled to sleep, struggled to carry around the guilt that every new victim piled on their back, but he couldn’t risk the very real, ever present danger.

Pathetic, their mind whispered to him.

Brody didn’t look at them when they entered, didn’t have the energy to. Not physical energy; emotional energy. The shorter one, Tool, had been in and out regularly, and he couldn’t keep letting his hopes be raised and dashed like this. That was the real torture. The tubes, the electricity, the ache from the restraints was pain. Pain that he hated and wanted out of deeply, put it was just pain.

But being ignored? Being pushed aside and left with no recognition of his existence?

That was torture to his very being. It struck so much deeper, into the parts of himself that were the truest parts of him. Things he couldn’t control, couldn’t change. Things he never questioned, even when everything was strange and unknown around him, he could rely on what he knew of himself. Rather than his mind or his physical body, it was like his soul was dying, strapped there on that table.

The Mechanic hovered above him and smiled at the glossy look of his eyes. With a quick motion, he added a soft dose of sedative to the boy’s IV to make the transition a bit smoother. Suffering was over, time to revive him in the way the Mechanic wanted. Distant blue eyes fluttered closed.

When Brody awoke next, he was laying in a cot. No restraints, no tubes or wire poking from under his skin. He shuddered and tried to sit up, gasping and holding onto the cot side for dear life. Was it real? Was this a nightmare? Was that a nightmare? Where, when-

His head wheeled quickly to the sound of footsteps on the other side of the room. He had to blink hard to clear his eyes, the figure walking towards him blurry.

“You’re awake,” the Mechanic mused as he crouched down by the cot. The boy was wavering, adrenaline quickly leaving him weak and wobbly. Grinning, he reached out a bare hand to steady the boy by the side of his neck.

Brody melted into his hand with a broken whimper. Tears burned at his eyes and he would have sobbed if he had enough control over his lungs to do so. He didn’t have the strength to keep sitting up, but the man was more than able to hold. Brody’s eyes slipped closed, only able to think about the point of warmth from the man’s skin.

The angle of the hand changed slightly, like the man was moving and Brody whined urgently. One hand tried to raise up to stop him. No, no no no he couldn’t leave, not yet! Brody needed him, needed to know he was still real, still there. There was an amused laugh and the cot dipped as the Mechanic sat next to him.

Nigel leaned the boy against his side, enthralled by how he relaxed bonelessly into him. The little thing was so open, so willing for any contact after only five days. He carded a hand through the boy’s greasy hair and felt the shudder that went through him.

Absently, he looked up to see where Tool had been restrained casually. He wondered how long in the Machine it would take to make his assistant just as receptive.

~~

tagging the Tool Crew only because this is not Brody's regular thing and I'm not just surprising the Machine on people. @unicornscotty @as-a-matter-of-whump @starnight-whump @whump-me-all-night-long @whump-it @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @valkyrie-whump @cupcakes-and-pain @whole-and-apart-and-between @misspelledwitch @fanmanga1357-blog @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @just-a-raccoon-in-a-party-hat @blackrosesandwhump @panic-and-chaos @savemycrustysoul @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are

[shelby-love]

HANK VOIGHT

Dating the Big Boss.

Requested: yes

Prompts: none

Warning(s): mentions of r*pe and p*dophilia (it's a tough case)

Author's note: I had a lot of fun writing this one. Especially since everyone is a lot older so I could play with maturity a little. Hope you enjoyed and sorry for the long wait! I'm just starting to get back to writing.

~

"What's up with him?" Erin whispered when she saw Voight barge into the unit's personal quarters. Hank didn't look at any of them as he strode into his office with a frown on his face.

He was angry, that's for sure.

Still hot on his tail, your senior detective self arrived right on que with him. Every pair of eyes was on you, knowing that you were the only one who had magic to calm him. You waved your hands, dismissing their burning questions all at once. You just crossed your fingers for them all to see and walked into your lover's office without knocking.

"Hank let's talk about this," You approached him carefully.

"There's nothing to talk about here Y/N."

"Yes, there is." You sat at the edge of his desk casually, although your heart was still racing upon hearing the news delivered to you this morning. "We have a serial rapist and pedophile out there. It's okay to be affected by it honey."

"Well I don't have any leads on this case," He told you strictly, although the anxiety was visible on his shoulders. He had his back turned to you and face focused on the city in front of him. The wheels turning and working in his brain were practically visible for the whole world to see.

"Then maybe we should look into our contacts and see who can help us," You proposed quietly. "This is far from over Hank. We can still turn this around."

You could see him nod, which instantly calmed you down. "Come here."

He, as surprising as it may sound, listened to your words, and walked over to your arms.

He placed his rough hands on your thighs while you ran your hands over his arms soothingly. Eventually your cold hands grasped his face as you gave him a soft look, "Do you want me to brief the team?"

"Thank you," You giggled, still not used to those words leaving his mouth.

The two of you shared a kiss before you left him alone with his thoughts to brief the team. Upon joining them you felt tension rise again, it made you remember what you were meant to do at that moment. "Is he alright?" Erin asked you quietly. You only managed to nod your head before ushering her to her seat.

Then you took a stand in front of them, a file filled with gore pictures secure in your hand. "A few days ago we found a female that was beaten, raped and murdered just outside the Riverwalk area. She was found in a dumpster just outside the Belle Hotel. Roughly 9 years old and unfortunately not the only case."

You spoke with authority that matched Voight's to a certain level. As a senior to all of them it was your job to deliver the details loud and clear. "There have been a few more cases similar to this one. Brody Thompson declared as missing just over a week ago was found two days ago in an area like this one. His left pinky was cut of just like the first victim's..." You placed a picture of a little boy on the board.

"Same MO?" Erin asked, scribbling things vigorously into her notepad. You nodded sadly.

"Are all of the victims children?" Burgess asked from the other side of the room. When you bobbed your head to her in confirmation you could practically see the heartbreak that struck her.

"We believe that we're dealing with a serial rapist and pedophile." You sighed.

"The MO is unique, and it doesn't look like he's been very careful with where he dumps the bodies," Jay notes. "It should be easy to find him since he's bound to make a mistake."

"That's where it gets tricky," You tell him, appreciating his quickness in noticing the details. "These are only cases reported in Chicago within the last few weeks. If we expand the search, which we did, there are dozens of other reported cases all around Ohio, Virginia, Rhode Island and lastly… New York."

A cool cloak of silence fell over the room once you've finished marking the spots. "Some date back to 10 years so we're looking for someone in his early to mid-forties. Maybe even older. Virginia State Police was only able to give us cases within the last 5 years, and we've hit four matches so far."

"Why are they handing the case to us? NYPD should be able to handle this." It was Alvin who had asked that question to which you opened your mouth to answer immediately.

But Hank, your boyfriend and partner, was quicker.

"Because we're the most qualified to do it," He explained, voice booming across the room. He joined your side and placed his hand on your hip; it was that after all, only the members of this very unit knew about you two. "Now, I've pulled out some old contacts from New York. They should be arriving here on the first jet they get their hands on. Until then I want you guys everywhere."

When his gaze slid to yours a twinkle of determination shone within his irises, "Let's get this son of a bitch."

***

"Sargent Benson," you greet the woman that just descended the stairs of the jet. The only people on the tarmac are the two of you and the officers you brought here. "Thank you for coming on a such short notice."

"Voight sounded stressed when he called. Is he alright?" She asked you quietly, matching your footing and walking toward the black SUV next to you.

You shook your head, "This case has been really hard on us is all. It's not every day we have cases like this one."

"Well, our job isn't pretty." She agreed. "Rape cases are already hard on their own."

"But when it's kids…"

"Do you have kids, detective?"

"None that are my own."

"Then I guess you're lucky."

"I suppose so."

***

The drive back to the district wasn't all that comfortable. Benson carried an air of importance around her that would get some rookies sweating with nerves.

Decades in this line of work showed just how good of a match you were for her.

"Hey Trudy," You greeted your friend in passing. Benson was hot on your heels as you lead her upstairs.

Upon reaching your destination you felt her walk straight pass you into Hank's arms. She brushed her hand against the lapels of his jackets when she asked him how he was doing. You felt your chest rise with jealousy but that diminished quickly when you saw him lead her to his office.

"You're not seeing that?"

"Seeing what Jay?"

The younger man narrowed his eyes at you, "She's obviously into him."

You sent him a glare. "We're not kids Jay, we're adults that lived long enough to see what's worthy being petty about and what's not."

"If you say so."

You rolled your eyes, but still went to retrieve your man, nevertheless.

***

You knocked twice before Voight let you in. "Sorry detective, this is a private conversation."

It was Benson who had told you this. You fought an eyebrow that wanted to rise.

"Y/N runs this unit as much as I do," Your boyfriend interfered. "She can stay."

You smiled, that not being able to suppress. "What do you have?"

"A possible location," She told you, still eerie about you being there.

You perked your eyes at that, taking your usual seat in Voight's office. Hank came to stand behind your chair, hands on the back of it. Olivia eyed you quietly and came to retrieve some papers. With her back turned to you both you turned your head, eyes travelling to Voight. Silently, you asked about what was going on. He only shook his head and pressed his hand against your shoulder, rubbing it in comfort.

Olivia saw the interaction and raised her brow.

***

You held your M16 in your hands securely. Officers were bustling all around you, greeting you in passing. The house in front of you looked like a fortress having god knows what protecting it. "We don't go in by force. There are still kids inside."

While the members of your unit nodded in agreement, a few voiced their distaste.

"We go in now. Cut off his ability to retaliate."

"I understand Olivia, but-"

"Sergeant."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm your sergeant. Let's keep it that way."

You gritted your teeth, seemingly offended by the fact that she had used the chain of command to put you in your place.

"My sergeant is Voight. I answer only to him," You corrected her. "I just want those kids to come out of there alive, and that's not going to be possible if we barge in. He'll panic. Kill them instantly."

"Why don't you go in then?" She proposed. "Scope and give us inside information so we can work our way around it. You find the kids and let us do the rest."

You thought about it. "I need –"

"Nothing." Your sergeant appeared by your side, eyes hard and body as still as a rock. Unlike Benson, you could see his anger. You almost reached out to calm him. "You're not doing it."

"This could be our shot." You told him.

He only shook his head, "Trust me it's not. A word, sergeant?"

She nodded and followed him.

You watched as the distance became bigger.

Jay and Adam came to stand next to you, Adam at your right side and Jay at your left.

"Holy hell." Adam muttered.

"She almost got you killed." Jay commented after him.

"Holy hell indeed guys."

***

"Hank I'm trying to do right by these kids!"

"The hell you are," Hank outright yelled at her. As the only person at the scene that had guts to stand up to her, he took the chance to put her in her place. "The way I see it you want Y/N in direct danger with no back up."

She stayed silent.

"You don't get to boss around my unit. Especially not my most trusted detective."

"Oh, come on Hank." She sighed, not quite believing what she was hearing.

"You're here to assist. The case is still mine so don't get ahead of yourself."

And with that, he left her to be.

"We're waiting for him. SWAT is on standby."

You smiled gratefully at him before mouthing a thank you.

***

"You did great today," You complimented him, smiling from ear to ear. All the children that went missing within the last few weeks have been found alive. Wounded yes, but alive. And the man was, much to your satisfaction, shot dead when he tried to run. By none other than yourself. Being able to put down a monster like him brought you satisfaction.

It brought Hank pride too.

He pulled you in by the hip and rested your back against the wall. Chicago was lightly lit up outside, bringing peaceful atmosphere to the district. Your fingers brushed against his rigid jawline; eyes locked with his.

Kisses between you two were shared ever so often at work. While you would both usually leave to the privacy of your home, today was a day you both needed reassurances immediately.

Your lips were pressed together and moving in a way possible for only people with experience.

When someone opened the door without knocking, you pushed him away in fright. Hank didn't even stumble as he narrowed his eyes at the person who had intruded.

"Sergeant Benson?!" You shrieked, cheeks flushing a bright red.

"It all makes sense now." She mused.

MASTERLIST

[theunboundwriter]

The Strawberry Killer

Chapter Four: The Poem

masterpost || next || previous

The bell that rang overhead, signaling their entrance to the small restaurant, reminded Dianne of Speedy's Diner and her first night on the winding roads that led to Beckton. 

Brody sat them down at a table in the corner, where an old woman asked what they wanted to drink and disappeared into the back of the restaurant. Dianne laid the manila folder between them on the table and gestured for Detective Gregory to open it. 

He held up a piece of paper. "What's this?"

"A handwritten poem that they found shoved down Jane Doe's throat. That's the transcription of it, as the other one wasn't exactly... sanitary. They copied it to match his handwriting and everything."

"Well, isn't that lovely."

Detective Gregory recited the poem aloud:

" 'Desdemona's handkerchief lined in red,

A temptation from the garden ends in dread.

Sin is an ugly, tangled thread,

and the Devil's fruit is better left unsaid.' "

Detective Jennings leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. "So, what do we think?"

"Well, it's no William Shakespeare. But it does rhyme."

"And what do you think it means, Einstein?"

Brody laid the paper back down on the table. "Temptation from the garden. Devil's fruit. It has to have something to do with the story from the bible about the snake tempting Adam and Eve to take fruit from the forbidden garden."

"But wasn't the fruit an apple, though?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

Dianne crossed her legs, pointing at the paper on the table. "The fruit in this case is strawberries. An apple has nothing to do with it. And who is Desdemona? Is that a biblical figure?"

Brody ran a tired hand through his hair. "I don't know."

The waitress returned with their drinks, then asked if they were ready to order. When she was gone, Brody looked up at Dianne. "You know, doesn't Otis live not too far from here? Maybe about a thirty-minute drive?"

Her eyes widened. "You're right!"

"We should ask if he can meet us. He might can make some sense out of this poem. Lord knows that man is smarter than both of us."

Dianne snickered. "Smarter than you, yes."

...

Otis Tutton entered the restaurant a good while later, having driven out immediately when he heard they needed his assistance on a case. Detective Jennings and Detective Gregory stood at his arrival, shaking his hand with a warm smile before the three of them took their seats at the table. "We ordered you a pecan pie for helping us out," Brody told him when they were seated. 

Otis chuckled. "You know me so well. So, how are things going?"

"I'm so glad you asked." Dianne slid the paper towards him, tapping it twice with her finger. "The short version is that we're working on a case, and we have a huge load of nothing. The only actual piece of evidence is this hand-written poem that was found with our victim. We were hoping you could give us some insight."

Otis Tutton was a literacy professor at a college a few towns over. He's helped on many cases, offering them some extra understanding, as he could see things that they could not. He was an unofficial consultant of sorts and a very intelligent man.

He picked up the manila folder, flipping through the pages of information the coroner gave. Dianne knew that he was seeing crime scene photos and a written analysis of what was found. He saw that Jane Doe was disgustingly disfigured, that her fingertips were severed and her eyes had been replaced by strawberries. He saw the rocks in her pockets, the bruises on her neck, and the poem written on a bloodied cloth.

'"Desdemona's handkerchief lined in red,'" Otis quoted, reading from the transcript of the poem. "Desdemona is from Shakespeare's play, Othello. She was unfaithful to her husband, and her handkerchief was found to be lined with strawberries. In this case, strawberries are seen as giving into temptation."

Detective Jennings and Detective Gregory shared a confused glance. 

'"A temptation from the garden ends in dread,'" Otis continued, finger running along the line of the poem as he read it aloud.

"That's about Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, right?" Detective Jennings interjected.

"That's right, Detective," Otis nodded. "And strawberry plants are seen to resemble the serpent in the Garden of Eden." 

"How so?"

"The green vines. They look like snakes. And once again strawberries are symbolic for temptation. As I'm sure you know, the serpent tempted Adam and Eve to take a bite of the forbidden fruit."

Otis crossed his legs. "The leaves on top of strawberries are trifoliate shaped, which connected to the holy trinity and symbolized purity."

Detective Jennings propped her elbow up on the table, chin resting in her hand. "And what about the Devil's Fruit?"

'"And the Devil's Fruit is better left unsaid,'" Otis quoted. "In the Middle Ages, strawberries were called the Devil's Fruit because of its red color, sweet juice, and tender flesh." 

"It sounds like the killer could have been in love with her," Dianne said, thinking aloud. "All this talk of temptation and purity. Maybe the killer thought he had to get rid of her so he wouldn't give into temptation. Maybe Jane Doe is the forbidden fruit." 

Otis slid the transcript of the poem over to them, pointing. "Well, we can see based on the handwriting that whoever wrote this is very tense and angry, because they used so much pressure to write their poem. And look at their letter 'i', see how closely they dotted it?"

Brody nodded along, listening intently, while Dianne sat in silence.

"A closely dotted 'i' indicates that they are organized and have a detail-oriented mind. And you see how their letters are kind of pointed? That says that they are intelligent and might be holding back aggression."

Otis leaned back in his chair once again. "The person you're looking for is smart, and they've paid attention to the details. That much is obvious, seeing as they took the time to remove this poor girl's eyes, and write a poem about why they might have done it. They were also smart enough to remove anything that can be used to identify your Jane Doe. You've got your work cut out for ya, Detectives."

"You're telling me." Brody threw his head back to look at the ceiling. 

The waitress from earlier returned with a slice of pecan pie that she placed in front of Otis. He thanked her, immediately taking a bite. 

"Detective?"

All three of them looked up, eyes searching for the voice. Dianne was the first to spot him, sitting two tables away with a newspaper in his hand and a grilled cheese in front of him. She offered a friendly smile. "Hey, Dean. What happened to no formalities?"

"That was before I found out you were a detective!"

Dean stood from his table, abandoning his food to come speak with them so he wouldn't have to yell over the noise of the restaurant. 

Dianne addressed the people sitting at the table with her. "This is my partner, Detective Gregory, and our friend Otis."

They both nodded to Dean. 

"Nice to meet you fellas. I'm Dean."

"He's the pastor at the church in town," Dianne told them. "I met him on the road on the way to Beckton."

They made polite conversation for a bit, speaking about the weather and how good the food was. Detective Gregory, Dianne, and Otis were about to leave, all beginning to gather their things, when Dean finally asked, "Have you identified the body, yet?"

The question made them stop in their tracks, glancing back at him.

"The latest victim, I mean."

"We know what you meant," Detective Gregory responded. "But why do you ask?"

Dean shrugged. "The last victim was a member of my congregation. As was the one before that. Some of the others were never identified, but I wouldn't doubt it if they went to my church too. Just wondering if the latest was identified yet. I'd like to pray for the family, is all."

Dianne cast Brody a glance before shaking her head. "Not yet, but we'll know soon."

She didn't like to lie, the words tasting bitter in her mouth. She was making empty promises— a false truth that she couldn't guarantee. In her line of work, she had learned never to make promises, knowing that it was terrible to go back on her word, especially when the situation was out of her control. But what else was there to do to provide comfort for those who are grieving? People like to hear lies because they make them feel better. It may not be the truth, but it can be for just a little while. 

"I saw on the news that you guys think she's around twenty with blonde hair. I've been trying to see if there's anyone who wasn't at church on Sunday, but I haven't been able to pinpoint anyone." 

Silence fell over the group, settling hazily around their heads and seeping into their mind. It itched at the words Pastor Dean had shared, pulling and shaping it until it was all they could think of. It fizzed away when Dean cleared his throat. "Anyway," he smiled. "I'll leave you alone now. I know you're all busy."

He held out his hand to shake, both Otis and Brody taking it firmly. They gathered their things and headed towards the door. 

Dianne shook Dean's hand, still smiling at him. "Enjoy your lunch," she said.

"Thank you. And good luck, Detective."

[annoyingstupidmiracle]

Fight Like a Girl-l.r.h

This is a chapter from my own fanfiction on Wattpad. The title is the name of the fanfic, and yes, it contains smut. I just figured to test the waters on tumblr to see if anyone would be willing to check it out. Thank you!

Summary: Aaliyah Giovanni Valentino was one of the best female boxers in The Bronx of New York City. She came from the bloodline of people who always thought violence was the answer. Little did she know that she would quite literally meet her match.

"So, is this like a regular thing now?" Emilia asked while eyeing the blonde at the end of the table. Aaliyah rolled her eyes before piling food into her mouth and chewing aggressively.

"Dad likes him, so what?"

"Yeah- and dad doesn't like anyone. Aaliyah, this could be great-"

"Don't even bring up dating, god, that's like the worst thing ever."

"Okay, I know Brody ruined things, but Luke seems great." Ali could only roll her eyes once more before getting up to wash her plate off.

"So, Aaliyah, Luke tells me you have your first fight at his arena, is that right?" Giovanni asked his daughter proudly.

Ali nodded, a smile on her face as she went and stood behind Luke's chair. "Yeah, Luke's been training me."

Her father looked to the tall man across from him with a look of approval, "that's great! Finally someone experienced."

"Hey! Calum's not bad-"

"Yes he is." Luke argued causing Giovanni to cackle.

"Got that right. I love the kid, but damn." Her father and Luke continued to talk until something struck her interest.

"Yeah, I have a match tomorrow night, you all should come. I'd love for you to."

"Wait- you're boxing tomorrow? I've never seen you fight," Ali says while inching closer to the male.

"Better get used to it then."

-

Calum, Michael, and Ashton were all shoving each other around while laughing as they walked towards the ring. Luke had been in the locker room for a while in order to ready himself. Aaliyah's family found a way to attend his boxing match, and to their surprise, Luke had already saved them free tickets which only made Giovanni like the guy even more. Ali's eyes peered around the crowd before landing on curly blonde hair pulled back into a bun. Quickly, she walked over to where he was, talking to Griffin with his eyebrows crossed with focus.

Griffin's eyes averted to her approaching figure before he excused himself. Luke turned around to face her and his expression changed to one of relief. "You're here."

"Wouldn't miss it. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, this guy is just really hard to beat. I've boxed him before," he says while eyeing the other side of the arena. There stood a tanned, middle-aged male who stood a few inches shorter than Luke, but had more defined muscles and a broader frame.

"Wow."

"Exactly. I'm just- I don't know, these kinds of fights just make me nervous." The girl nodded in understanding before he pointed a finger in her face. "And don't think about telling anyone that. I'm never nervous. The guys just get weird about it."

"I won't, I promise." As if on queue, dumb, dumber, and dumbest walked up to the two loud as can be.

"You ready, mate?" Mikey asked his boxer while holding a clipboard in his hand. Luke nodded firmly while glancing at the female standing next to him. She gave him a reassuring smile as the boys attempted to rile up their friend.

"You need motivation. Uh.. Shit, how do we motivate him guys?" Calum asked while peering around his friend group. His eyes landed on the girl and he instantly lit up. Her heart pounded in her chest anxiously waiting for him to speak up. The brunette leaned over and whispered something to Ashton who then began grinning like an idiot.

"If Luke wins, you have to go on a date with him." Ashton blurts out as Calum nods in agreement.

"What?" The two victims question simultaneously.

"He likes you, and you like him, so-"

"How would you know?" Ali asked in annoyance as Calum gave her a look.

"Yeah," Luke added.

"If it's not obvious." Silence surrounded the group before Aaliyah finally gave into a desperate looking Luke Hemmings.

"Fine. If he-"

"Tell him, not us." Ashton interrupts. Ali sighed before turning to the tall blonde.

"If you win, I'll go on a date with you."

"Really?" Luke asked as his head tilted to the side. Aaliyah nodded. He went to open his mouth to speak again, but Mikey cut him off.

"Don't even ask anymore questions, you got what you wanted from day one, remember?"

Once the fight started, Ali nearly lost her hearing. The crowd was booming. Mikey had his talk with Luke before it started and then he was down with his friends again. Luke was staring down his opponent, Myles, as if he'd kill him in seconds. Myles had that signature smug look plastered upon his face that his fans loved. The bell rang and the two began circling the center of the ring. Within seconds, Myles had already landed a punch to Luke's face drawing blood from the skin by his eyebrow.

"You think he'll be alright?" Ashton asked Mikey. He only shrugged as his eyes stayed glued to the match in front of him.

"Your boy's pretty tough," Ali's brother, Vince, said in her ear as her cheeks grew red.

"I know." Although she didn't deny her brother's sly comment, she liked the sound of it and that bothered her. She was taken out of her thoughts by the bell ringing signaling that the round was over. Glancing up at the ring, Ali noticed blood on Luke's face and a busted lip. He didn't look like he was doing well at all. Myles was for sure winning. Her heart beat fast in her chest as she squirmed through the crowd to get to the injured man in the ring. Mikey followed her and instantly sat a stool up for Luke to plop down in. Aaliyah quickly slipped under the ropes and appeared in front of Luke. His eyes lit up at the sight of her.

"What're you doing up here?"

"Luke, if you're not feeling it, you don't have to finish this fight." She said to him as Mikey handed her a wet rag. Aaliyah wiped the mixture of blood and sweat from his face while Michael used cotton swabs to clean the cuts in his eyebrows.

Luke smiled weakly at her, "I'm fine."

"You're not, please be smart about this. He's hard to beat."

"Promise me that if I get hurt, you'll take care of me." He asked, quoting the night of her birthday when they ran back to her place in the pouring rain.

Ali sighs, "Luke-"

"Promise me." He begs as the ref comes over to tell them they only had ten seconds left.

Aaliyah lets out a frustrated breath while taking the rag away from his face, "I promise."

That gave him enough motivation to shake the jitters from his body and stand up to walk towards the center of the ring. Aaliyah stood back outside of the ring watching as the two boxers tapped gloves before the bell rang. Once it did, Luke took this as his chance to plant a harsh punch to the right side of his jaw, then once Myles was off balance, he got him in the sciatic nerve over and over again. They were in one another's space for so long that the ref blew the whistle for them to separate to give his opponent a few moments to recoup. Luke stretched his neck and loosened up a bit. He's boxed Myles before and beat him, it just took some motivation.

Aaliyah watched hoping that he was doing the right thing. He's doing better than he did in the first round, all it takes is a knock out to end the fight right here. Luke took a weak jab to the ribs before he followed through with a punch that he hadn't had it in him to throw. It landed dead center of Myles face which landed him backwards in the ring. Ali stood on her tip toes to observe the limp man on the mat. The ref held up Luke's arm as everyone around them cheered with victory. Without hesitation, the blonde jumped down to stand in front of the Italian girl who was anxiously biting her nails. Reaching out, he grabbed her hand and pulled it away from her mouth.

"That's a bad habit."

"Well, fuck- you made me nervous," she stated following with a long breath of relief.

"And you owe me a date."

Aaliyah rolled her eyes while attempting to hold back her smile, "yeah. I do. But after I take care of you."

"Huh?"

"You said to promise if you got hurt that I'd be the one to take care of you- so I'm living up to that promise."

-

"Would you stop moving? I'm trying to clean your cut."

"Okay, but you act like it doesn't hurt."

"You two bicker like a married couple." Calum says with a laugh. Both Luke and Ali look back at Cal with glares. Neither one of them were the type to casually date people, let alone even think about marriage.

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Ali questions sassily. She turned back towards Luke and began to clean the excess blood around his wounds.

"Nope, just busy watching my favorite couple-to-be."

"We're not-"

"Calum, excuse yourself out of the room." Luke said while running a hand down his face. Cal put his hands up in defense before exiting. "So, when are you feeling that date?" He asked, wincing as the cleaner sunk into his cut.

"You really want to go on a date with me don't you?" Ali asked while finishing up taking care of the injured male.

"I mean I'm pretty persistent if you haven't noticed."

"Pick and date and time, then we'll go from there."

"Tomorrow night, 7 o'clock."

"Deal."

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

I kinda wanna see something where the imposter uses the genuine airlock to kill :eyes:

see the thing about the airlock is… depending how smart the imposter is… it doesn’t need to be limited to only one victim… :eyes:

(if you’re confused, i headcannoned this:

there is a genuine airlock on the skeld and MIRA maps, which will eject its contents into space. only imposters can use this but hardly anyone knows about it; it's a secret way of killing, like an easter egg

read this post here for more details)

…

“Hey, Tango.” Evil beckons to his friend. “Tango. C’mere. I wanna show you something.”

Tango stays exactly where he is. “No way in hell. I know how this goes; you’re trying to take me to a dark corner.”

“No no, it’s something cool, I swear. C’mon.”

Narrowing his eyes suspiciously, Tango follows Evil across the ship to the bottom of storage, where Evil clicks a hidden switch and opens up a door that’s clearly an airlock, with a metal wheel beside it and a lever just above it.

“What is this?” Tango asks.

“It’s an airlock,” says Evil, confirming Tango’s suspicion. “Cool, right? Imposters can use this thing to kill people.”

Tango’s heart skips a beat and he turns around, but before he can do anything, Evil shoves him into the airlock and twists the metal wheel, sliding the door closed on him.

“Hey!” Tango growls. “Let me out, you jerk-butt!”

But Evil is already gone.

Letting out a frustrated groan, Tango hits the door with his fists.

Thankfully, someone happens to be passing by and catches sight of him.

“Tango!” Brody gasps. “What the hell?! Hang on, I’ll get you out!”

He grabs hold of the metal wheel and strains to turn it to the left. Tango watches him nervously, trying to keep a lookout for any signs of Evil returning.

Finally, the door starts to creak open. But before it’s even opened halfway, something hits Brody on the head from behind, causing him to stumble forwards with a sharp yelp of pain.

Tango automatically catches him, but by the time he’s steadied his friend, the door is already sliding shut again.

With both of them now on the inside of the airlock.

“EVIL!” Tango yells, hitting the airlock door with all his might.

But the glass has been reinforced to withstand the pressure of space.

“Sorry, Tango,” says Evil unapologetically. “Lemme know how it goes.”

With that, he pulls a lever and disappears from view.

Immediately, the ground under their feet starts to tremble, and a robotic voice says, “Airlock operational. Ejecting in one minute.”

“Oh god, we’re gonna be thrown out into space!” Tango cries, starting to panic. “We’re gonna suffocate for hours and die!”

Groaning from the splitting pain in his head, Brody reaches out and grasps his friend’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, we won’t.”

“What the hell do you mean?!”

“I mean the game won’t have put in an airlock that’ll kill in such a painful way. First of all, we’d have found out about it sooner. Second, in a game that makes death as painless as possible, do you really think they’d make it possible for people to suffocate to death?”

“So what, you think it’s just gonna make some cute little noises and then open the door again like “la dee da, thanks for riding the airlock simulator, you guys can skadoodle your way back home now”?!” shrieks Tango.

“I’m saying that even if we do get ejected into space, the game will kill us quickly.”

“OH! GREAT! I FEEL SO MUCH BETTER KNOWING I’M NOT GONNA DIE AS SLOWLY AS I EXPECTED!”

Brody winces. “God, you need a compressor.”

Tango feels a great urge to grab his friend and shake him violently. “Why are you being so calm about impending death?!”

“Because there’s no escape! Once that lever gets pulled down, that’s IT. There’s no escape. And I really don’t want to spend my last seconds having my headache get worse because you won’t stop yelling!”

Brody’s clear annoyance at him ironically calms Tango down somewhat. He opens his mouth to say something but before he can, the timer hits zero and the door behind them slides open, pulling both of them out into space.

…

Tango’s eyes fly open and he finds himself back in the lobby, sitting in his seat alongside everyone else. His head snaps round and he makes eye contact with Brody, who has a similar expression of disorientation on his face.

“THERE you guys are!” Skizz says, giving Tango a gentle punch on the shoulder. “How’d you die? We never found your bodies.”

“Evil shoved us in the airlock,” Tango snaps, narrowing his eyes at his aforementioned friend.

“Airlock?” Skizz blinks. “What airlock?”

“There’s a secret way of killing on the ship using the airlock,” Evil explains. “I couldn’t resist trying it out,” says Evil apologetically. “I’m sorry, Tango.”

“How did you know about it?” Etho asks. “Why pick that particular round to use it?”

“I dunno, I just… When I started the round, I suddenly knew about it. I’ve never been able to use it before but when I went into storage, I just knew where it was and how to operate it. I don’t know how. But I-I’m sorry for using it on you two.”

Brody rubs the back of his head, though the pain is long gone. “Did you really have to hit me, though?” he grumbles.

Evil winces. “Ah… I-I’m sorry. I was only intending to get one person but when you stumbled across it, I was scared that you’d save Tango so I panicked and… I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to hurt you.”

After a moment, Brody shakes his head. “It’s alright.”

“So can you explain how the whole airlock thing works, Etho?” Tango demands. “How did it kill us? We got ejected and then nothing.”

“I don’t know for sure,” Etho begins, “but I’d imagine it works the same way as being voted off. You float out there for a few seconds, then the game hits your code and kills you immediately so you don’t suffer.”

“Okay, can we agree not to do that again, please?” says Tango firmly. “That was horrifying. Let’s stick with stabbing and shooting, ‘kay?”

Etho nods. “Yes, let’s agree to not use the airlock as long as we play together as a group, okay?”

Everyone nods or murmurs their agreement.

When the next round starts, Tango gets imposter. As he heads into storage, he happens to glance sideways and his heart skips a beat. He doesn’t know why, but he feels drawn to this place. Like he has a strong memory associated with it.

He doesn’t remember what happened here last round.

Nobody does.