#accomplice to twelve murders and all

[eruanna1875]

....

Actually wait yeah-

Does anybody else want to take this poor frazzled lil guy and wrap him up in a blanket and cuddle with him until he falls asleep? Because I do, and I have thought about it for YEARS

[1moreff-creator]

DRDT is back!!! Here’s my live reaction to everything that happened this week! Obviously take everything I say with massive piles of salt, these are in the moment reactions and aren’t supposed to be fully coherent thoughts.

DRDT CH2 EP12 SPOILERS (Oh that feels good to write)

We’re back!!! Teruko we fucked up!!!

The theory that Charles was going to bring up the possibility of a wrong time of death was true! There weren’t really any other theories about what he was going to say from what I saw, but it’s still cool we got that right. You have no idea how giddy I am to finally hear him talk about it, after waiting so long for him to finish the sentence lol.

Also Teruko’s face lmao.

Oh, poor Teruko, she looks so sad. She’s gonna bring up the marks on the wrist, right?

Or, yeah, the swinging.

(Does this screw up any theories? No, her body was still likely strung up at 7:30 AM, which is what most people thought I’m pretty sure)

Ah, Whit. I missed how shady he always is even when he has, like, an airtight alibi for the time the fish were taken (which is still around 7:30 PM to nightime btw, don’t forget Nico’s account).

They’re not gonna bring up the time the fish were taken, are they? That furthers my belief that the person who took the fish and the murderer are different. Nothing concrete obviously, just kinda narratively works better that way.

“Or did you do it on purpose?” Veronika how I’ve missed you :D

David’s face lmao xD

“I’ll fix that mistake” (Paraphrased) Hell yeah! Go Teruko! :D

I missed you too, Literature Boy Insane. That “pathetic” voice line was cool. Also, thank you Hu.

J: “The body would have been cold if it was drenched at some point.” (Paraphrased). Interesting point about the water, I wonder if it’s important or not. We know she wasn’t drowned because the relax room wasn’t open at 7:30 AM, right? So I don’t know how she could have gotten drenched.

Ace no genuinely how do you not know how water works what.

“The range of human stupidity is larger than I thought.” Charles, you’re great.

[Levi and Nico complain about Arturo’s medicine skills] Okay, but like, Arturo has repeatedly told you he’s not that kind of doctor. Like you can blame the guy for a lot of shit but this one ain’t it chief.

(Also don’t think I don’t see how Levi throws suspicion on Arturo. Small point towards Levi!Culprit and Levi!Accomplice)

“You shut your whore mouth!” Okay maybe I don’t need to defend Arturo actually, he seems like he has it handled. You good my guy?

Oh shit we actually brought up that Arturo is ridiculously young for someone in the medical field. I did not have that in my (hypothetical) bingo card.

Twelve?! Dude my guy wanted out of that house yesterday damn.

Dude he’s kinda going off! I was not expecting Arturo fans of all people to eat this good this episode, but this is interesting!

Oh right the crazy lady- “Adorable”? Verturo shippers eating!

“Feel free to add to the number of dents in the computer lab” (Paraphrased) PFFFT Charles!

Wait wasn’t there actually a dent there? Wasn’t that a thing I saw on people’s theories? Holy shit is that actually going to get addressed?

[Whit explains] AHAHAHAHAHA HOLY-!

“I let it slide because it was funny” I missed MonoTV too actually.

And no fish! Nico’s account of the fish still being there last time they checked goes unmentioned, meaning it’s likely going to be used for a twist later!

New alibis? Could be possible.

Whit: “I don’t have an alibi. Neither does Charles” (Paraphrased) Which you know because…?

Oh so that’s not addressed. I repeat the statement of Whit being unnecessarily shady all the time.

????? DAVID AND J ALIBI???? This could be kinda huge actually.

David: “Oh. Shit.” This is the reaction of a man being cleared of murder. That’s so funny.

Didn’t David usually wake up late? Inconsistent sleep schedule ig.

J: “Oh yeah, and Veronika.” Girl you gotta say this shit earlier.

Yeah, look, J, you went and made Veronika sad! >:( /j

David: “Whoops” Holy shit every line this man says is gold actually what?

David? Lying? Noooo, how could you say that? I forgot how funny post magical girl transformation this man was.

David I am going to need you to give an actual answer. I spent hours looking at That Video and I still don’t know what your deal is please-

“And she’s Teruko” J’s also really funny actually. Hold a knife to someone’s throat once and they hate you forever, smh.

“Oh and don’t say something like “I wanna kill myself” that’s boring” (paraphrased). Holy shit I missed Veronika- that’s my second fave right there! (Min you will always be N1 don’t worry).

David-Veronika duo is great actually.

By the way David said “the truth is…” I am not expecting a serious answer.

You know, for a moment I actually did think he genuinely thought he was the blackened. But my first instinct was right.

“I would have actually tried looking at the crime scene” Bro what the fuck is he actually cooking.

“A good person” drop!!!! If you know, you know!

Also, I wanted to point this out here, I might have accidentally misinformed a part of the fandom a bit? One point that I brought up was that several important people to this chapter have been called “a good person”, and one of the examples I gave was Hu calling David a good person. Which… I don’t think happened? I evidently misremembered a line where Hu called David a “good friend”, which is a different phrase with different connotations in DRDT, and I genuinely apologize for that. Especially because I have seen people repeating that David had been called a good person in the past.

But now David has called himself “a good person”, if in a roundabout way, so the point actually stands lol.

Oh shit the Xander name drop.

… He was trying to kill Teruko wasn’t he. Because Xander tried it, and because David has Teruko’s “the killing game is all your fault” motive. Oh shit.

Speaking of the “good person” point, that argument might actually be dead lmao. Given that Xander got called that and he’s, well. Not particularly important to chapter 2, let’s say.

[Hindsight Post-Video: Actually, the argument could now be “anyone referred to as a good person is deeply important up to chapter 2”. Or, alternatively, argue that Xander is somewhat important to the Chapter 2 trial because he inadvertently caused David to magical girl transform. The “good person” list in case you don’t recall is Teruko, Levi, Eden, Arei, and as of this episode, David and Xander. We’ll see what we make of it once the chapter ends ig]

Oh Teruko is pissed I am loving this.

Holy shit the voice acting is amazing holy shit Teruko is going off she said Xander didn’t treat David like a human (“No Longer Human” reference??? I might just be insane though) oh this is incredible!!!

Oh he knows something deep. This motherfucker knows what was written in Xander’s “kill Teruko” note I bet.

WAIT HE KNEW XANDER BEFORE HOPE’S PEAK?! HE KNOWS WHY HE’S THE ULTIMATE REBEL?!

Motherfucker you are going to tell us what Xander did before Hope’s Peak and why you know his work or I swear to God-!

Okay actually, David, I am going to need you to give… a straight answer at some point? Like I get you’re canonically bisexual (and it’s showing) but a single straight answer isn’t going to kill you.

Also, the music?! Is peak?!

David: “If the answer is no…” Neat sprite! Just thought it looked nice, and the line’s cool too :>

The return of the Teruko Baffled Sprite, long awaited.

Secret reveal? The killing game’s her fault?

Okay not the angle I was expecting in the slightest. Obviously gonna have to analyze how truthful he’s being at the moment, but he’s basically pulling a DRV3 ending logic thing. Cool!

So… Xander is absolutely Opening Guy, right? Like, I know that was the most common theory, but c’mon.

YEAH HU GO OFF!!!!

Voice acting going crazy too!

I adored Hu’s screaming section. How long till it’s revealed she has the “hopeless child” secret?

Hu’s a queen, hell yeah.

Pffft J’s high horse voice line-

Thank you Charles for being the only competent one (affectionate). Btw what does Veronika think of David’s reasoning? I was kinda hoping we’d see that.

[Red herring joke] Whit. Whit /disappointed/silly

Oh shit I was not expecting that line to actually cause a reaction damn.

You know, I’ll be honest and admit Eden’s really not acting that much like a culprit. I still think she is, I’m just surprised I’m not able to confirmation bias my way into suspecting her through her voice lines :v

Aaaand we’re back to Ace v Nico! Woo!

Okay wow the new alibis are like, laser focused on going against the most popular theories, huh? I’m not going to say anything’s deconfirmed yet obviously, but Hu!Culprit, J!Culprit, even Veronika!Culprit and theories surrounding David being involved have some questions to answer damn.

[To the question of if anyone else had alibis] “Nope” Whit how do you know this.

Levi!Accomplice also takes a hit because Eden and Levi aren’t trying to alibi for each other, but it can be explained. If they never prepared to give each other alibis, it’s safer to just… not, since they can’t actually say what they were doing during that time. And yes, possible explanations like this is why I’m not calling anything outright deconfirmed yet.

I wrote that before Levi three dotted directly after Eden, looking like he was thinking of trying to give her an alibi. Now that’s confirmation bias that can’t be safely used for theories!

Oh right J still hates Arturo xD

[The whole thing about excluding suspects who had an alibi at night and not in the morning] Oh God, Levi really wants me to think he’s the culprit huh? The method’s still too crazy for me to really believe that, but still.

This is also bad for Levi!Accomplice. Not a dealbreaker, but still weird that he’d say something that could point in Eden’s direction. I am not even going to try to defend that yet.

Cool. Can we finally talk murder method?

Levi: “That’s my secret.”

Oh okay, we’re not talking method yet.

…

Wait, WHAT?!?!?!!?!!!?!

THAT’S-! That’s not-! What the hell?!

Okay, so. Cool, Levi’s the remorseless murderer, we got that one right. But, the reveal is so insanely out of left field holy shit…

I am not lying when I tell you I had to get up and start PACING like I was not ready for this. I am vibrating. He just- He just said that shit! What the hell?!

I have genuinely no idea how the hell this is gonna play out. Holy shit I cannot wait for the next episode. It’s just… so peak!!! We are so back!!!

—-

General Closing Thoughts: This episode was awesome! I was lowkey a little worried that the first episode back wasn’t going to be as insane as it ended up being, but wow it blew me away. And it was only twenty minutes? When the episodes go up to possibly an hour??? It’s just… holy shit.

It was awesome to finally start getting some insight into why David Did That, and I’m genuinely super excited to see where this goes. I’m still trying to figure out the exact angle on things like hiding Teruko’s secret, if he even is doing that because I now believe there is a non-zero chance he isn’t actually lying. Like, it’s low, but not zero. I do find it strange Veronika didn’t react to it, though, but at least we got that one line before David started talking.

But that’s only the cusp of the iceberg. I genuinely adore the details we got on Arturo’s backstory, and Hu’s blowup, and Teruko’s remorse- it’s all so awesome.

(The fucking dent in the wall of the goddamn computer room got an explanation I still cannot believe that. Wow)

Props to the voice acting and the music btw, absolutely incredible all throughout.

Btw, correct me if I’m wrong, but there weren’t any “minigames” this episode, right? Nothing wrong with that, just found it interesting.

Theory-Related Initial Thoughts: This episode is… possibly one of the biggest theory slaughters I’ve ever seen?

Like, obviously, again, it’s still too early in the trial to fully rule out anything, so I’m going to leave it to the other DRDT scholars to revise their own theories to fit the new evidence, but wow those new alibis are something. Between Hu, J and David having alibis for 7:30 AM, that’s three of the top suspects who weren’t there at that exact time to either kill Arei or mess with the body. Again, maybe there’s explanations for it, I’m not calling anything unconfirmed yet, just that many theories were inconvenienced.

As for my theory, Eden!Culprit Levi!Accomplice… ups and downs. The more Eden speaks, the less I’m convinced she’s the actual culprit, even if I’m a decent 80% sure she took the tape; the more Levi speaks, the less I’m convinced he’s an accomplice. I’m not going to deny that their dialogue isn’t 100% what I would expect. I don’t think it’s disqualifying, I still believe it to be the theory with the best evidence, it’s just that some things strike me as odd.

That was what I thought… until the end. Because I have no idea what’s about to happen with Levi revealing the secret like this, but… there is a very possible Levi!Accomplice turn here? Like, it’s the “Levi’s holding the glove” idea; the moment Eden loses her alibi, Levi does something that immediately puts a target on his back, potentially trying to get himself voted off before people catch on to Eden as a possible culprit. First he tries to argue that he shouldn’t be a suspect because of the alibi thing, which could make him more suspicious in some people’s eyes (maybe that’s too much 4D chess but it could work), then revealing the secret. I don’t know how likely this is, but it’s a genuine possibility.

Otherwise, I’m… not entirely sure what the angle is? I need to rewatch the trial to figure out why Levi’s talking about “detailing the trial” then immediately revealing his secret. I didn’t rewatch any DRDT before the episode, hence the confusion. But… at this moment, I don’t know what Levi’s cooking, other than possibly accomplice behavior. And even that feels more confirmation bias-y than anything.

There’s also the really weird line where Whit just… knows, Charles had no alibi at 7:30 AM? Unless they discussed it or I’m forgetting something, I don’t actually remember how he’d know that? Was he stalking Charles? Was he just wandering the halls? What kinda-?

(I don’t think that’s likely, but I don’t have a really good read on what’s happening there)

Other than that, here’s a crackpot one to lighten the mood. Mastermind business. I’ve never brought this up before, but I’ve always believed that were Veronika to be the mastermind, she would get revealed early. As in, possibly at the end of this trial, given Teruko had some idea to end the killing game after her chat with Veronika in the movie room.

I’m bringing this up only because Veronika didn’t react to David’s explanation of what he was trying to do by claiming to be the blackened. She was set up for a reaction with the whole “please tell me it’s not boring” thing, and then she… didn’t. It’s possible, in a conspiratorial sense, that she didn’t react because David hit the nail in the head, and Veronika was genuinely upset at the idea. If that’s the case, her reaction could be postponed to the end of the trial, maybe the end of Trial 3, for the early mm reveal there. It’s a very half-baked idea I’m failing to communicate properly ‘cuz I’m eepy, but it’s there.

I rank it in the same level of mastermind evidence as “Nico is unafraid of grabbing MonoTV by the tail.” Immensely silly and should not be considered solid evidence by any means, and yet it’s still probably gonna get mentioned if I ever make a mm probability ranking lol.

Anyways, absolutely incredible episode all throughout. Holy shit were so back, this was amazing. See you next week for more peeks into peak!

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

Your recent post touched upon every issue I have with the Zutara fanbase. When it comes right down to it: Zutarians (the cult-like weirdos, not the ones in the fandom that just enjoy the ship for what it is) antipathy towards Kataang really does seem to be rooted in a hodgepodge of thinly-veiled bigotry, sexism and projection. I mean, their primary argument against Kataang is because "It's weird for a slightly older girl to like a slightly younger boy, but it's perfectly fine for her to be attracted to an older man." Yeah, that certainly doesn't sound hypocritical or based on extremely outdated/idiotic notions on attraction and gender dynamics that don't jive with how it works in reality; It really does make me wonder if they live in a freakin' bubble and were all homeschooled or something. And when they talk about how "empowering" it would be for Katara to be with Zuko (a member of a dynasty of ruthless colonizers and racists that oppressed and killed members of her tribe) and become his royal consort, they paradoxically proceed to constantly ridicule her for not being more sympathetic/nicer to Zuko despite the fact that she had valid reasons for being hostile towards him. Like, y'know: Threatening her home, kidnapping and blackmailing her with a precious keepsake from her deceased mother, consistently trying to capture/attack/kill her and her friends, betrayed her trust when she offered him sympathy, being an accomplice in the murder of her best friend/true love…

Yeah, I think she had plenty of justifiable reasons to tell him to take a flying leap.

Yet, they go "but poor Zuko…"and none-to-subtly imply that she should defer to him and disregard her own trauma and hardships associated with him because his feelings are more important than hers. Yeah, the "pro-feminist" vibes are really on display with those sentiments, Zutarians. Meanwhile, they tell the innocent twelve year old who happens to be the sole survivor of a genocide orchestrated by said-family of colonizers that he should "get over it" and proceed to call him a rapist every chance they get because of an ill-timed kiss (that he immediately reproached himself for), while their entire ship is based on an imagined scenario straight out of a trashy erotica involving their favorite "bad boy" taking advantage of a young girl while she's tied up, defenseless and unwilling.

And when you call them out on it? "It's just fiction, guys. None of it is real." *Snorts* Yeah, okay. So, you can suddenly use common sense to differentiate fiction from reality when it comes to justifying why *your* ship involving *your* favorite male character performing non-consensual acts with the heroine you *allegedly* respect in your fantasies is perfectly acceptable because you acknowledge that the characters and situations aren't real. But when the protagonist innocently mistakes a moment for one of intimacy with his canon kinda-sorta girlfriend (whom he shared mutual kisses with on two separate occasions) and realizes that he messed up? "Shit just got real, fam! He's 100% a sex offender and a horrible influence on our children! So are his creators! And anyone who supports him and Katara as a couple are misogynists, pedophiles and rape apologists."

>_>

Like, do they ever stop to think how terrible this makes them - and by extension, their ship - look when it's being enforced by such putrid rhetoric and double standards? It honestly makes me feel bad for the Zutara fans who just want to see Katara and Zuko together because it appeals to them and think they're compatible. It's a shame that it's become a ship mired by idiotic, pseudo-political garbage and baseless conspiracy theories all because the zealots desperately seek validation that they weren't wrong. Or more honestly, because they just can't admit that they're simply horny over fictional cartoon teenagers getting it on together, regardless of any evidence (or lack thereof) of attraction between them. Which is hilarious because you have the VAs themselves admitting to their own fetishes when it comes to ships like Zutara or Azula x Zuko, but you don't see them spewing this crap to justify why they like what they like.

Anyway, sorry for the long rant. Your post just resonated with me and I felt like I needed to get it out.

Venting is what this blog is for, make yourself at home

[teenageread]

Review: Crushed

Synopsis:

It's springtime in suburban Rosewood, which means iced soy lattes, fresh manicures in shimmering pastels - and prom. But while everyone else is flipping through the racks at Saks in search of the perfect prom dress, Hanna, Spencer, Emily, and Aria are on a different kind of hunt: They're looking for A. . . .

Hanna puts her campaign for prom queen on the back burner to volunteer at a burn clinic, where one of A's victims is recovering. Emily digs into Ali's past at the mental hospital with some very crazy consequences. Spencer contacts a private eye to help her stalk her stalker. But when their sessions get a little too private, they may forget to keep their eyes on A. . . . And Aria's worried that A is even closer than she thought. When her dark secret from Iceland finally comes to light, she discovers that maybe, just maybe, the one person she's been trying to hide the truth from has known all along.

The liars are finally taking the fight to A. But no matter what they do, A's always one step ahead, ready to crush the girls completely.

Plot:

After the disaster on the Eco Cruise, the Liars are done with getting tormented by A. Hiding in Spencer's soon-to-be step-father bunker, they create a list of all the potential accomplices to A, whom they are nailed down to be Real Ali, who somehow survived the fire and are being taken care of by a private nurse. With all the names written down, Spencer gives each of the liars a task: Hanna is to go back to the burn clinic that Graham was placed him to see if he recognized A, Emily is to be friends with Iris as she was roommates with the Real Ali at The Preserve, Spencer is to track down Real Ali, and Aria is to investigate the one who has always been there when things went wrong, her amazing boyfriend Noel. As the girls dodge Special Agent Jasmine Fuji, an FBI agent tasked with interviewing everyone staying at the Jamaican resort the same time Tabitha was, she has additional questions for the liars. With prom approaching fast, the liars' love lives are also failing. Hanna has to lie to Mike. Reefer immediately bails on Spencer. Emily's love is also running from the FBI, and Aria is under increasing pressure, suspecting Noel is A. With A always being one step ahead of the liars, it is time for them to fight back and solve the mystery of their tournament before they are sent to jail for a murder they did not commit.

Thoughts:

Sara Shepard is out of their writing slump, as this thirteenth installment is as good as the start of the series. Shepard has the liars actively hunting A down for the first time, trying to figure out who they are and stop the tournament they have been put through. Shepard also ends their "what happens during the summer" segment, finishing off with Aria's Iceland summer adventure, which seemed to come out of nowhere, and similar to the other liars, it did provide plot points throughout this novel, but overall it was not really needed besides providing another character for the liars to interact with in the future. As the series is coming near the end, it is interesting to look at the romance element of the story, as Shepard divides the girls with solid love lives with Aria and Hanna to the one-offers with Spencer and Emily. Shepard spent the entire book twelve trying to get Spencer with Reefer, who bails by page twenty and is set up to never appear again. Meanwhile, Emily lusts after the FBI's most wanted, who also seems like they are never coming back. Yet this is one of several books where we see Mike and Hanna, and Aria and Noel, fighting, getting back together, fighting some more as the liars keep lying to their boyfriends. I understand the concept of maintaining the A secret, and not putting a target on their boyfriend’s back. Still, the liars should realize that by this point, the boys are involved, so lying to them about mundane things, like working at the burn clinic, creates unnecessary problems. This is also the first time Shepard has the girls look inward on who A could be. Throughout the story, Noel is the prime suspect despite being Aria's boyfriend for more than a year. With this focus on Noel and finding A in general, Shepard takes a backseat on previous villains of Kate, Klaudia, and Naomi, who barely get any page time within this novel as the liars are focused on finding A. For this, there is no worse character or best character, as each of the liars is focused on finding A, giving them each of tasks that they do not really mess up, as their hearts are all in it, trying to end the tournament. With this novel having similar cliff-hanger vibes as the first part of the series, this book definitely revamps the series with its fast-moving plot that relates to the series as a whole and character motivations that focus more on A rather than their mundane lives.

A Suspects:

The concept of the novel is our four girls trying to find out who A is, thus I thought it would be fun to keep a suspect list to see how many people Shepard writes for the girls to at one point suspect and by whom. So here is the list for book #13:

Noel by Spencer

Chase by Spencer

Body Count

As Shepard keeps killing people off, I think it would be a good idea to keep track of who died, but without spoiling the ending of the current book, as her habit is killing them off with two chapters to go. So here is the list of the dead for the previous book #12:

Jenna, Ian, Mona, Toby, Courtney, Tabitha and Gayle

Read more reviews: Goodreads

Buy the book: Amazon

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

“SIX YEARS, 12 STRAPS FOR EVANGELIST'S SON,” Toronto Star. March 11, 1933. Page 25. ---- Rugby Player Gets Five Years and Ten Strokes for Armed Robbery --- Special to The Star Hamilton, March 11.-"This sort of thing frequently ends in murder; you might be facing a charge on which you would finish with a rope around your neck," Magistrate Burbidge said to-day as he sentenced Frank Bradley, 21, son of an evangelist, to six years in the penitentiary and twelve strokes of the cat-o'-nine-tails, and Wilbur Schultz, 19. rugby player and son of a manufacturer, to five years and ten strokes of the cat-o'-nine-tails, on two charges of armed robbery.

On three charges of car theft the youths were sentenced to one year definite concurrently with the other sentences.

"They were out of work and figured they could get some easy money to carry on until spring." stated Detective Barrett. "The car they stole yesterday was to be put in a garage while they looked over the situation to pick out something big. These other jobs were just piker stuff. They obtained a shot-gun from a man named Dutch who was just out of prison."

Crown Attorney Ballard moved for immediate sentence referring to the accused as potential murderers. "This type of crime is very prevalent in the republic to the south of us, and has to be stamped out," he stated.

Schultz and Bradley admitted holding up and robbing Robert Megaughan, manager of Jackson's Bread Co., February 28. Megaughan was walking to a bank near his office with $1,900 in cash in his pocket and $58 in silver in a satchel. The robbers demanded the satchel, thinking they had the company's receipts, but all they got was the paltry sum in silver.

Their admissions also included the daring hold-up of Powell's branch grocery store, March 6.

Confident a break was impending, police withheld news of the theft between 8.30 and 9.30 yesterday of a large sedan owned by Vernon A. Smith, salesman of Rockwood. He was eating in a King St. E. restaurant and had left almost $600 in merchandise in his car.

Headquarters officials ordered every available man to take up the chase. An hour later. Detectives Sharpe and Barrett found the car parked on Blake St. They waited. Schultz and another man approached the car and were captured. Later, the detectives learned the second man was innocent and was merely acting as an agent to aid Schultz find a garage where the sedan could be parked a few hours.

Bradley was later arrested as Schultz’s alleged accomplice in theft of Smith's car. Both denied knowledge of the hold-ups until late. last night when an identification line-up was arranged at headquarters and seven persons positively identified them as the participants in the Megaughan and Powell robberies, police stated.

Detectives Barrett and Sharpe led a search which unearthed the shotgun and revolver in a rooming house. Not until then did Schultz and Bradley admit any knowledge of the crimes, The Star was told.

[AL: Bradley was also known as Frank Dadgley and Ted Lewis, and had been in Burwash and the Montreal jail before - he was 21, from Brantford, and had a tattoo of a Heart and Anchor tattoo and the word ‘Lovey’ on his arm. He was a cook’s helper. he was convict #2980 at Kingston Penitentiary but was transferred to Collin’s Bay January 1935. He was convict #822 and was released March 1937.

Schultz alias Wilbur was 19, and was from Hamilton - having spent some time in the Barton jail there. He was a machinist helper. At Kingston Penitentiary he was #2979 and unlike Bradley was a difficult and disobedient prisoner, reported 15 times between 1933 and 1935 for speaking out of term, theft of supplies, resistance to guards, foul language, and taking part in a prison strike. He mostly worked in the tailor shop Schultz was also involved in a riot and hostage taking in March 1935, when a group of twenty-five inmates, wearing improvised masks and with their inmate numbers ripped from their uniforms, occupied several workshops, barricaded the doors, and took three officers hostage; Schultz worked in the tailor shop in that building. Unlike the 1932 strike, the guards taken captive were gagged, tied, and beaten by the leaders of the uprising. Several of the inmates set fire to the mail bags manufactured inside, destroying most of the machinery and nearly killing several men. The prison officers who stormed the building were also exceptionally brutal, beating surrendered inmates with batons. During the investigation afterwards, few of the participants would explain exactly what they had hoped to gain, except, as one individual guessed: “They don’t want exercises. They want base balls. They want human treatment instead of persecution, and everything like that.” Schultz himself was implicated in the riot, considered an “agitator” by several other prisoners, but his testimony was rather limited in this regard:

Q (from Warden): “What I am getting at is that your answers are useless. The Shoe was set on fire, machines broke, windows broken, and, according to you, you didn’t see a thing. Are you sure you were there?” A: I don’t know what to tell you, boss.

Several weeks later he was overheard taking responsibility for “trying to beat you guys (ie the guards) but not knowing you can’t beat the boys in blue.” Schultz was given ten strokes of the strap for his role in this riot, and sent to segregation for a year.  He was pardoned December 1936.]

[murder-and-maryjane]

Did You Know🤔

The Carol City murders were a series of murders that took place predominantly in Carol City, Florida and in and around Miami-Dade County between October 1974 and January 1978. The murders were committed by American mass murderer and serial killer John Errol Ferguson (February 27, 1948 – August 5, 2013) who murdered at least eight people but is believed to have killed up to twelve. He was aided in six of the murders by two accomplices: Marvin Francois (January 18, 1946 – May 29, 1985) and Beauford James White (October 29, 1945 – August 28, 1987). On July 27, 1977, Ferguson, Francois, and White entered a drug house in Carol City where they tied up a total of eight people and shot all of them in the head execution-style. Two of the eight survived. At the time, the incident was the largest case of mass murder in Miami-Dade County history. Months after the massacre, Ferguson murdered a teenage couple in Hialeah after raping the female victim. He is also suspected to be responsible for the May 1977 murders of an elderly couple and is suspected of killing a further two men in 1974. Ferguson, Francois, and White were all eventually captured, sentenced to death, and executed by the state of Florida. Francois was executed in the electric chair on May 29, 1985, followed by White, who was also executed in the electric chair on August 28, 1987. Ferguson was executed over two decades later by lethal injection on August 5, 2013, following years of appeals over his sanity.

[joywritesbutitsactuallymystories]

The ghost

Steve Allan was your typical Londoner. Each day was planned, the whole week through. On Saturdays he went on a walk through the park. It was getting dark, so Steve decided to take a shortcut. It was dark on the Square. Only one of the street lamps were working. Eddie was there, an empty bottle in hand.

Like I said, it was dark. Steve could barely see where he was going. It was only natural that he couldn’t see the figure, silently moving towards him. The man felt a sharp pain in his neck and started losing vision. It was over in a few seconds. He fell into the light of Eddie’s street lamp, The London Eye looming above.

Robert Constantine, the world-renowned detective, sighed. He had come to the conclusion that catching the Ghost Killer was impossible. Major Crimes was working on this case for the last year and a month, and every next murder only seemed to complicate things. A murder a month, every one different. Nothing tied the deaths together. Nothing except the murder weapon. A thin, iron needle. That was all. For all we knew, we could’ve been on a wild goose chase. And yet, they did not disappoint, once again striking.

This time around it was a middle-aged man, Steve Allan, who fell under their needle. Finally, we had the smallest of leads – Steve's wife knew three previous victims, Samantha Black, Adam Curtis, and the first one to die, Andromeda May.

Needless to say, it was a dead end. The wife of Steve, Janet Brown was proven innocent, and the famous detective without a lead.

We returned to the precinct and Robert interviewed a witness of Allan’s murder. We only had one, as none of the residents of this part of the city were looking out their windows at the time. Even if they were, they wouldn’t have seen much. Almost all the lamps in the region were broken. Edward Dean, the local drunk, was sitting in the reception. Rob invited him into the interrogation room.

“So, Mr. Dean, what exactly happened last night?” Rob opened his notepad.

“Well mister. I was sittin’ an’ drinkin’ a bottle of gatter an’ he just keeled over.” He wildly gesticulated with every word. He stopped, drank a swig of beer and continued his story. “Never did like ‘im. Deserved what happened, really.”

“Why did he deserve what happened?”

“Didn’t like his lifestyle, is all” he answered, and I knew Constantine wouldn’t get anything more out of him. We left the interrogation room.

“What now?” I asked. Robbie answers:

“I don’t know.” We return to the briefing room and continue looking through the scarce pieces of evidence we have. A latex glove, collected from the murder of Jacob Hamilton and a few witness statements. Nothing soluble, especially seeing as the glove had no traces of DNA on it, neither the murderers nor the victims. The only good piece of news we had that day was that the needle that killed Allan was the same one used to kill all the others.

But then a policeman approached me.

“You are under arrest, for the murder of Steve Allan.” He lead me out of the room, leaving behind a very confused, very hurt Robert Constantine.

~~~

To whom it may concern,

While looking through my apprentice's laptop I found this blog, and took it upon myself to bring this story to an end.

The author of the earlier texts is indeed the murderer of Steve A., as well as twelve other civilians, the list being as follows:

Andromeda May

Matthew Lakes

Robert Kilburg

Orion Jane

Inez Ilsley

Jacob Hamilton

Martha Green

Nico Freeman

Rebecca Evermoore

Veronica Davis

Adam Curtis

Samantha Black

As you can see, the last names line up in reverse alphabetical order, which suggests that the serial killer planned being discovered.

I must say, I was very disappointed in my assistant after finding out about the crimes. I don’t hide the fact that I was friends with my accomplice, and trusted them deeply. Still, this does not cloud my judgement, and I will do all in my power to make sure their rule of terror ends.

Signed,

Robert Constantine

~~~

Fools. You really thought this was over? You cannot capture a ghost. The thirteen were just a warning, a prologue to something much, much bigger. Cut one head, two sprout from the stump.

The streets of London will run red. The tower will fall, and when We are done with you, even the ravens will abandon ship.

So, lock your windows. Barricade your doors. Hold your loved ones close. For when you’ll die, you’ll die alone. And no-one will be left to mourn your ghost.

~~~

The serial killer sat in silence in the interrogation room. A smile crept onto his face. He would’ve known those footsteps anywhere. Robert Constantine, the world-renowned detective. The two friends sat opposite each other, one looked at the other with kindness in their eyes, the other one with hurt.

They sat for a while in silence, before the detective finally spoke.

“Why?” The question hung between them. The other leaned back into his chair, their smile turned into a grin.

“Why wouldn’t I, Robbie?”

They sat in silence for some time before Robert, the world-renowned detective, left the room. The place was completely empty. He turned on his desk lamp. Robert sighed, taking off his glasses. “Finally it’s all over”, he whispered to himself in relief, “Never again should I come back to this case.”

[slytherinqueen71]

Revenge is Not Worth the Price that You Pay

According to an English mathematician Isaac Barrow, “It is commonly said that revenge is sweet, but to a calm and considerate mind, patience, and forgiveness are sweeter”. I believe that this quote is true and I do think that a lot of people do give this chance. Many people in this world are willing to forgive people who have wronged them. A lot of the time it has to deal with people apologizing and making things right with the people that they hurt. Now there can be other times when people do not want to forgive. Sometimes they decide that revenge would be the perfect solution since that other person got revenge. Angered or hurt? on them. Getting revenge isn’t the right answer, and people should just stop trying to hurt each other. 

When people get revenge, they think it's the best thing ever, but in reality, it isn't as good as they think. Does the hatred end up going the way that the people thought it would?  No, it doesn't because many people who get the vengeance they think deserve end up not being happy about the justice they were able to get. 

Throughout history, people have been getting revenge on each other. One example is a kid named Alam Khan. He saw his father get murdered by a family friend. For 12 years he spent his time planning to get revenge. Alam ended up killing the family friend and chopped him into twelve parts since he had to wait so long for his revenge. 

Another example is during World War II. Japan decided to bomb us at Pearl Harbor so we decided to go and bomb Hiroshima and Nagasaki. 

Besides getting justice in the real world, we also have TV shows that show us different types of revenge that people get. 

Once Upon a Time is a TV show that has a lot of magic, friendships, fun trips, and revenge. In Season 2 Episode 4 we have a bit of spitefulness between two characters in the show. Captain Hook stole a man's wife, and they were gonna go on many adventures together. Eventually, the husband, named Rumpelstiltskin (Mr. Gold), found out and went to go find his wife. There was an altercation between the two men, which didn’t end well. Rumpelstiltskin ended up ripping out his wife's heart so that his wife and Captain Hook (Killian Jones) couldn’t be together. Captain Hook went after Rumpelstiltskin for revenge since he killed the woman that he loved but it ended in him getting his hand cut off. 

Going from one crazy show to another crazy show about revenge. I have a TV show called Scream that originally aired on MTV which involves a lot of blood, gore, murder, and revenge.

Piper Shaw who is one of the main characters in the Season 1 of Scream tries to get revenge on Emma Duval and her mom Maggie Duval. Shaw wanted justice because Maggie played a part in her dad’s death when they were teenagers. Another thing is that Maggie gave up Piper after she gave birth to her and Piper ended up living in an orphanage her whole life. In the end, Emma and her friend Audrey ended up shooting Piper. Which is the end of her story but in Season 2 we have a new killer. Kieran Wilcox the boyfriend of Emma ends up being the new killer. He was Piper Shaw’s accomplice during Season 1 but also her lover. Wilcox wants revenge on Emma and Audrey since they shot Piper. Eventually, Kieran Wilcox gets caught and ends up in jail but instead of going to court, he ends up getting killed by Emma’s dad.  

From dealing with two crazy people killing we go to dealing with one crazy mad woman who is obsessed with killing a princess. 

Medea is one of the craziest women of all time, in my opinion. She thinks about killing Jason’s new wife since Jason left her for a princess. During the story, Medea talks about how she’s gonna make a beautiful dress for the princess and how she’ll want to put it on right away. This dress is cursed with the terrible poison that the princess with dying a miserable death. For this, I believe that Medea is happy with her plan in killing the princess. I think this because of this section in the writing which says: “No one is going to call me a poor, weak woman who sits on her hands. No, I will be known and feared as a warrior, dangerous to foes, and kind to friends,” (Euripides 17).

In conclusion, this essay shows that revenge doesn’t always go the way you want and it shows it’s not worth the price you pay. One of the examples that I had was Alam Khan who killed his father's murderer but Khan ended up going to jail. The second one I had was Japan bombed us at Pearl Harbor and we ended up bombing them. All of the damage that we caused was worse than the damage done at Pearl Harbor. Another thing is that we have Piper Shaw and Kieran Wilcox who try to get justice for different things but they both end up dead because of it. Finally, we have Medea who is a crazy woman that wants to kill Jason’s new wife. She ends up succeeding in doing so.

[neverburied]

they have not known each others company for long. sejanus had been a side character , brushed over &* largely ignored by coriolanus --------- hell , she hadn't even been properly introduced to sejanus until he showed up here in twelve. corio made sure of that -- that her focus could only be on him &* the games. but here in twelve , where sejanus fit in far more than coriolanus ever would ? here , he was hard to not notice. while he'd been shuffled aside in the capitol -- covered up &* taken off air as if he were the embarrassment to the nation -- he shone brightly here. the peacekeeper that gave a shit about the people in the poorest distract. he cared about these folk as much as she did.

it was no surprise that she'd taken to him ----- it hadn't been anything more than a kinship until that night with mayfair. time moves differently now that they're all accomplices for coriolanus' stupidity. every moment counted for something -- every breath was one away from getting strung up. in the end , it didn't bring her as much fear as she'd thought it would. she'd faced a much more pressing threat of death in that colliseum. hiding out here was preferable. but more than that . . . she'd much rather be in that damned tree with sejanus than sitting pretty in the capitol with coriolanus.

so as he pulls her close in the midst of the dancing crowd -- dares to show his adoration for her in the press of their foreheads -- she is reminded just how much she would put on the line for this man she has only really known a few weeks. the games had been fast -- meeting corio had been so fast -- watching mayfair die had been so fast. moments like these , though ? they stretched minutes into hours. weeks. lifetimes. where she'd doubted if she would take the fall with coriolanus , there is not a drop of uncertainty in her about whether she'd protect sejanus with everything in her. she'd go down fighting tooth &* nail for this precious boy. he was too good for this world , but she'd be damned if he didn't get to see it.

❛   i don't need you to do anythin' to keep me safe. i'm pretty good in a scrap. won the games , didn't i ? ❜ poison. cheating. dumb luck. A WIN WAS A WIN IN THE MURDER GAMES , no matter how you happened to come out on top. ❛ i could'a done it without him.   ❜ she's not sure she believes that. her nose nudges his affectionately before he leans away.

&* then he's just gazing at her with those doe eyes of his &* god do her knees get weak. the smile that spreads her lips is downright girlish -- goes along with the blush that warms her face in the summer heat. ❛   ----- you can't go lookin' at me like that , jan. coriolanus is gonna catch on if he sees that. ❜ she shakes her head as if scolding him , even if her hands come up to cup his face in equal adoration. it doesn't help her case of convincing him not to do the look in question when his reward for it is lucy gray standing on her toes to drag him into a kiss.

every time she kisses him , it feels like the first &* last time. the first had been scared &* desperate in nature -- comforting each other the day after mayfair when he hadn't quite been able to shrug off his shaking. they'd met up in secret - in the dead of night while corio slept. she needed to know where sejanus stood -- how reliable he was to keep the secret. but then she'd found him just as scared as she was. ( she hides it so much better . . . but a part of her envies his heart there on his sleeve. )

they were talking until the dawn cracked the sky ---------- &* then she'd kissed him after cradling his face to tell him they would get through this together. she was nothing if not born of impulse. it had stopped his shaking finally. if a kiss was all it took to bring his heart ease , she'd kiss him senseless. he deserved it. but it hadn't just helped him. it helped her remind herself that there was good in the world -- that her trip to the wrong side of the moral line was not irrevocable. if someone like him -- good , honest , selfless -- could like her as much as coriolanus -- vain , selfish , deceitful -- then surely there was something redeemable in her. something not completely tarnished &* worn thin by the tightrope act she's always balanced between good &* bad. actions &* consequences -- speaking or holding her tongue. sejanus makes her want to speak. to sing louder. to love louder. she does not feel ashamed to love him.

the last kiss will be just as scared as the first. it's why she doesn't pretend she does not love him. time was short &* their chances of being caught &* killed for being good people vastly outweighed the chance of seeing tomorrow. especially with their bold venue. but no one here likes corio. there is no vengeful ex to take the shot at lucy gray. sejanus is the kindest outsider they've ever had. no one here would not rat them out. so she kisses him with fear &* hope. presses tiny frame to his &* prays to god this is not the last chance. a smile ends up cracking into the kiss a moment later , laughing bubbling up as her hands slide to the sides of his neck. her nails gently grip the skin there. ❛   sorry ------- we ain't supposed'ta be doin' that with people around. you just drive me kind of crazy sometimes. --------------- in a good way ! the best way. ❜

born  to  wealth,    choosing  to  live  amongst  those  living  in  shambles.      choosing  to  live  with  those  that  actually  did  something  with  their  lives.      coriolanus  wrote  it  off;      not  fully  understanding.      while  sejanus  tried  to  run  from  his  privilege,    his  friend  only  wanted  more,    wanted  to  drag  lucy  gray  into  that  life  with  him.      in  the  dark  brown  staring  back  at  him,    in  her  passion  for  the  covey,    he  knew  this  was  where  always  longed  to  be.      he  never  wanted  to  change  that    —          ( you  fell  in  love  with  her  for  who  she  was,    not  who  you  wanted  her  to  be ).         

a  forbidden  romance,    shared  right  beneath  his  nose.      surely,    he  was  bound  to  sniff  it  out,    but  until  then,    sejanus  relished  these  moments  of  peace.      the  times  where  he  needn’t  look  over  his  shoulder  for  prying  eyes.      he  could  love  her  loudly,    because  this  place  was  their  sanctuary.      no  interlopers  would  dare  run  and  tattle  anything  to  a  peacekeeper.      with  her  hand  on  his  heart,    the  heart  that  belonged  to  her  alone,    he  felt  complete.     

arm  moved  to  wrap  around  her  waist,    hand  resting  against  the  flat  of  her  back,          ❝ i  know.      but  if  something  happens-      if  he- ❞          words  tapered  off,    his  forehead  falling  forward  to  press  against  hers,          ❝ i’ll  do  whatever  it  takes  to  keep  you  safe. ❞          the  promise  was  uttered  easily,    holding  her  tightly  within  his  embrace.      lucy  gray  won  the  games,    but  her  life  was  always  in  danger  so  long  as  she  held  that  defiant  nature.      the  same  one  that  boiled  through  him.      wanting  a  better  life  for  those  that  were  suffering,    bringing  them  a  little  bit  of  joy  with  what  they  were  capable  of.      that’s  what  she  did  for  him.      showing  him  that  he  could  find  his  own  happiness  somewhere,    and  not  at  the  expense  of  others.         

❝ i’m  not  sure  that  i  do,    but  you  do  give  a  compelling  argument, ❞          a  soft  chuckle  as  he  pulled  back  enough  to  gaze  lovely  upon  her  features.      the  most  beautiful  girl  he’d  ever  seen      —      and  she  chose  him.      despite  all  the  odds  stacked  against  them.  

[reidscanehand]

Ne Regrette Rien

RCH 3K Celebration

Based on the song “Ne Regrette Rien” by Edith Piaf

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAUfem!Reader

Category: Angsty Fluff

TW: mentions of the potential murder of a child, details of the murders of young girls (all typical CM stuff, specifically based on the season 1 episode, “Riding the Lightning”)

I was absolutely delighted to receive this request. This song was not on my playlist, but I did know of it and I do actually happen to enjoy a lot of Edith Piaf’s music. I’ve had a thought of adpating this episode for a fic (I rarely write early seasons’ Spencer, so this was fun). Thank you to the anon who requested this and I hope you all enjoy it! xx 

Spoilers for “Riding the Lightning”, by the way; I try not to focus on the episode too much and to focus more on the relationship between Reader and Spencer, but just it case. Also, if you haven’t watched this episode or haven’t watched it recently, I’d give it a watch; it is a high quality and extremely underrated episode in my opinion! 

Non, rien de rien Non, je ne regrette rien Ni le bien qu'on m'a fait Ni le mal Tout ça m'est bien égal Non, rien de rien Non, je ne regrette rien C'est payé, balayé, oublié Je me fous du passé

He’s still not sure why the whole team has to come down to Florida, but he’d be lying if being crushed up next to you in the SUV isn’t his vision of heaven. Spencer is absolutely thrilled to be here and you seem pretty delighted, too, both of you geeking out a bit over the landmark quality of this VICAP interview: the FBI have never had a chance to interview a serial killer couple before. In fact, you’d told him that you were prepared to beg Gideon to let you join in when Hotch announced the entire team would be flying to Florida for the interview. Hotch would be in the lead on Jacob Dawes’ interview, Gideon would take the lead on his wife, and believed accomplice, Sara Jean. Spencer would second Gideon on the interview with Sara Jean, Hotch would be alone with Dawes, and Elle and Derek would be sent to look for more evidence on Sara Jean since she’d revealed very little in trial. In fact, while Jacob had admitted to killing the twelve bodies the authorities dug up from under his workshop, detailing how he and Sara Jean had lured, tortured, and killed all twelve victims, Sara Jean had only admitted to killing her son, Riley. 

Being in on the interview with Sara Jean is strange in the first place. She’s not a serial killer, that much he can tell. You’d told him that theory on the way to the prison, just from looking over her file. Now that he’d met her, he couldn’t help but agree with you. In fact, he doubts that profiling skills are even necessary to recognize that fact once you’ve met her in person, anyway. She’s soft spoken, not that all serial killers are loud by any means, but she’s a good soul, a kind soul, one that can be seen from miles around, like a beacon in the night. 

He almost wishes you could meet her, just to see how right you’d been, though you’d said you were just happy to observe. You, Garcia, and JJ are watching the interview video feed from a separate room set up by the prison. You’re far from just observing, actually. The discovery of a thirteenth body, a murder previously undisclosed by Jacob Dawes, means there’s a possibility - a massive possibility - that there are even more than that. It’s down to you, Garcia, and JJ to see if you pick up on anything - a change in tone, posture, a flicker of something even mildly untoward - that could lead them to more victims. 

“You’re a doctor?” Sara Jean asks him as they walk to the interview room. Spencer smiles and nods. “A medical doctor?” 

“No, ma’am,” he answers shyly. “I have three PhDs.” 

Sara Jean’s soft blue eyes light up and she smiles gently at him, “A doctor! And so young! Your mother must be very proud.”

He nods again shyly, opening his mouth to speak when they are interrupted by none other than Jacob Dawes. Gideon had purposely asked the guards and Hotch to take this specific hallway so that Sara Jean would be forced to see Jacob, and so that he and Spencer could try to observe something about the dynamics of their relationship. 

“Sara Jean!” Jacob calls, as though he isn’t handcuffed and surrounded by guards. In fact, he seems, to Spencer, at least, entirely unaffected by the setting. It’s not too terribly surprising for a psychopath, but it’s still off putting. “You look so fine, babycakes! This was meant to be. Our names will live forever, it’s a beautiful thing!” 

“Spence,” your voice whispers into the comms in his ears, “look at her.” At your bidding, Spencer glances over at Sara Jean, only to be struck by her expression. Stony. Mollified. Bewildered. “She doesn’t look happy to see him.” Spencer nods, knowing you can see his response even if he can’t actually say anything to you. Not for the first time, Spencer is struck by how damn good you are at this job. He’s a good profiler, this he knows, but the way that you watch people, the way you can read them is something so innately a part of you, something he doubts could be trained. 

“You designed that to happen,” Sara Jean almost whispers, turning to Gideon. She isn’t accusatory, she doesn’t even seem mad. It’s a resignation, just like everything else she’s said about the case, about her impending execution. Gideon doesn’t respond. His expression doesn’t even change. “Did you learn anything, agent?” 

“Spencer, I don’t think she did this,” you whisper into his earpiece again. “She seems….something isn’t right about this.” Locating the camera, Spencer looks directly at it, nodding subtly, and hoping you can see in his expression that he agrees with you. 

Avec mes souvenirs J'ai allumé le feu Mes chagrins, mes plaisirs Je n'ai plus besoin d'eux Balayé les amours Avec leurs trémolos Balayé pour toujours Je repars à zéro

You’d once told Spencer that you tended to really ‘trust your gut’ when it came to profiling. If he had a gut like yours, he’d trust it, too. Not only had something not been right about the case, but Sara Jean had, in fact, had absolutely no part in the abduction or murder of any of Jacob’s victims. Or, in fact, the murder of her own son, which was the only act she’d admitted to on the stand.

On their trip to interview Sara Jean’s mother Morgan and Elle were given a letter sent fomr Sara Jean to her mother - a deathbed confession of innocence. They’d read it over the phone, feeding it through to Gideon and Spencer, both of whom started reading it out loud to a distraught and terrified Sara Jean. She’d nearly jumped on Spencer trying to knock his earpiece out. She’d succeeded, actually, in knocking it out - unsurprising, really, as Spencer’s reflexes are hardly the pride of the FBI. It does, however, allow him to see you in person for the first time since the interviews started. You are escorted to the interview room by a very disgruntled looking Hotch, who - to Spencer’s understanding - is very much in need of a break from his interview with Jacob Dawes. 

“How’s it going?” you whisper, helping Spencer affix the comm to his ear. 

He’s so focused on trying not to blush as your knuckles graze his jawline and your gentle fingers touch the shell of his ear that he misses your question, “Wh-what? I’m sorry.”

You smile sweetly, “How’s it going?” 

“It’s okay,” he whispers, feeling the blush (despite his best efforts) crawling up his neck to cheek as you clip the comm cord to his lapel, requiring your hands to delightfully grip at his chest for a few moments. “She’s not what she seems. At all.”

“I told you so,” you tease softly, giving him such an adorable grin that he just manages to swallow over his urge to pass away at the sweetness of the sight. He cheeks are now burning. 

“That you did,” he manages to reply. 

“Keep up the good work,” you assure him, straightening his jacket against the newly adjusted comm. “And know that I’m super jealous of you but that your big, beautiful genius brain is exactly what’s needed for this.” 

You pat his arm and walk away and Spencer’s so overwhelmed that he just manages a broken, rasping, “Th-thank you” in response as you exit with Hotch. He can feel Gideon watching him, but is surprised to look up and meet Sara Jean’s gaze. 

It’s an odd expression, the one she’s wearing now. She looks a bit abashed, Spencer assumes it’s because she just broke an FBI headset, but she also looks slightly curious. Gideon turns to the door to speak to Hotch, a conversation to which neither Spencer nor Sara Jean is privy. He takes an awkward step towards her, more to get out of Hotch and Gideon’s way than anything else. 

“Sorry,” Sara Jean says quietly, “for breaking your ear thing.” 

“Oh,” Spencer replies, surprised, “it’s alright, ma’am.”

“Yes,” she whispers, almost to herself, “I’m sure it is.”

“What do you-”

“That girl,” she interrupts him, voice still soft, “who is she?” 

“G-girl?” Spencer gulps louldly, knowing exactly who she means.

“The agent that fixed your ear thing,” her smile deepens and Spencer knows she’s onto him. “Who is she?”

“That’s, um, that’s Agent Y/L/N,” he replies, willing his voice not to crack despite the pressure in his throat.

“So, she’s another agent?” Sara Jean asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And she also works for the BAU?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And you’re in love with her?”

“Yes ma-” Spencer cuts himself off, realizing what he just said. Sara Jean smiles at him, but it’s not smug or cruel, but gentle and motherly. 

“You haven’t told her, have you?” she asks quietly, sitting back down at the table. Spencer sits back in his seat across from her, shaking his head at her question.

“How long have you known her?” Sara Jean asks, her voice still kind and quiet, mindful of the cameras and microphones being fixed in the room and the fact that they’ll soon be back on and you’ll soon be able to hear their conversation.

“About a year,” Spencer whispers. “She joined the team right before I did.”

“She’s your best friend, right?” Sara Jean clarifies. Spencer nods and she smiles again. “You gotta tell her, you know?”

“I can’t do that, ma’am,” Spencer immediately responds. 

“Oh, but you do,” Sara Jean replies. “I don’t wanna hear any of that silliness of worrying about your friendship. I have seen a lot in this lifetime Dr. Reid and I can tell you this-”

“Mics should be back on,” Gideon announces, still speaking with Hotch over by the cell door. 

“Having regrets makes life far harder than it already is,” she continues as though Gideon hadn’t spoken. “Of all the wishes I have, wishing that I had said all I needed to say, loved all I needed to love, and done all that I needed to do are up at the top, but at the very top is having no regrets and had I done all of those things, I wouldn’t have any of those, now would I?”

The gaze she fixes him with is so intense, Spencer can’t respond. He sort of nods lamely, highly aware that everyone can hear what she’s saying now. But he knows she’s right. He’s been meaning to tell you for a while now, but he truly doesn’t want to ruin your friendship. But the closer and closer you’ve become, the more he’s fallen in love with you. It’s a never ending cycle. 

“Reid,” Gideon suddenly says, breaking his reverie, “I’ll continue here. I need you to go do a handwriting analysis on the letter.” 

Spencer nods and leaves the cell, following Hotch back to the room where you, JJ, and Penelope are working. JJ’s about to go second Hotch on an interview. Penelope is working with Derek and Elle on the hunch that Riley was never dead, but that Sara Jean took him to a hospital or church or that he might’ve been adopted. The room is a flurry of activity, but Spencer can’t focus on any of it, still thinking over what Sara Jean said. 

“Hey,” you whisper as Spencer stares blankly at the letter. “What were you and Sara Jean talking about?”

He meets your eyes. He wants to tell you. He wants to pull you to him and hold you in his arms. He wants to kiss you. 

“Nothing,” he manages to rasp. “Nothing at all.” 

Non, rien de rien Non, je ne regrette rien Ni le bien qu'on m'a fait Ni le mal Tout ça m'est bien égal Non, rien de rien Non, je ne regrette rien Car ma vie Car mes joies Aujourd'hui Ça commence avec toi

Not all cases end in the way the team wants them to - that’s just a fact of this life. However, it’s beyond rare for a case to end like this: Sara Jean hadn’t killed her son, Riley. She’d surrendered him to a family she cleaned for, a wealthy family that renamed the child. Riley was now a cello prodigy, a young adult with a promising future. Sara Jean didn’t do anything wrong and she didn’t want anyone to know about it. She wanted to die. And the team had to let her. There wasn’t enough evidence to substantiate her release from her execution. Gideon had somehow had the strength to watch it happen, per Sara Jean’s request. 

You’d cried into Spencer’s chest. He’d finally managed to gather the courage to pull you into his arms and comfort you - though courage proved hardly necessary. Seeing you cry was catalyst enough. 

It’s been several hours since then, now. The team isn’t leaving until the morning, spending one more night in their relatively nice Florida hotel. Spencer’s standing on the roof. He’d been unable to sleep, walking around the hotel until he’d seen the sign to walk up to the roof. 

He’s staring up at the stars, his mind rolling over the events of the day when the door to get back inside opens behind him.

“There you are,” you almost whisper, as though scared to break the quiet of the night around you. “I thought I might find you here.” 

You cross to stand by him and Spencer realizes he’s already smiling, “Of course you knew. You and that gut of yours.”

“Yeah,” you nod, “me and my stupid gut.”

“Stupid?” Spencer looks over at you, admiring how you glow under the stars. 

You’re looking up at the view, but close your eyes, head still tipped to the sky, “I knew today wasn’t going to end well. I felt it. And it made me...it made me sad. Which is pretty pathetic, really. We’ve handled worse, honestly and-”

“Y/N,” Spencer interrupts, tentatively placing a hand on your upper arm. Your eyes snap open, but you still don’t look at him. “Feeling bad that someone died is far from pathetic.” 

“Maybe I could’ve said something, maybe I should’ve-”

“Y/N,” he whispers again. Using the slight leverage he has on your arm, he pulls you to him, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest. “This isn’t your fault or mine or Hotch’s or Gideon’s or even the governor’s fault. Sara Jean wanted to die and wasn’t going to let anything keep her from that. She wanted to keep Riley safe and make sure he’d be okay. It’s not ideal, obviously, but it’s certainly not your fault.” 

“Is that what she meant?” you ask, your face still buried in his chest. 

“What?” 

You pull back slightly, wrapping your arms around him in response and looking up at him, “When she told you she wants to live without regrets?”

Spencer swallows, but shakes his head, “No-I mean, well, maybe. Maybe subconsciously, but that’s not what we were talking about.”

“Well, what were you talking about?” you ask, eyes never leaving his.

“Um,” Spencer gulps again. “Just some-something else.”

“Spencer, you know you can tell me anything. Even-”

“I can’t...this isn’t just anything, Y/N,” he whispers, almost holding you tighter if possible. “This is...it’s too huge.”

“Spencer, are you okay?"

“Yes,” he nods, “yes, I just...I-I-”

“Spencer, are you sure you’re-”

But he stops you by pressing his lips to yours. He’s not sure why. Maybe it’s how beautiful you look in the moonlight. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re so sweetly concerned about him. Maybe it’s the fact that Sara Jean was right and he’s in love with you and needs to tell you. And to his utter delight and relief you kiss him back. 

You pull back for only a moment, looking up at him with wide eyes, but a beautiful smile, “Oh.”

And as you press your lips to his again Spencer has absolutely no regrets. 

~~~

Link to My Main Master List

Link to My 3K Celebration

[kurokoros]

Bertholdt’s personality being watered down to “haha anxiety!” really irritates me.

I, too, would be a complete nervous wreck if I was trained to be a child soldier in order to be considered an honorary human being by the oppressive government that beat the fact that I was an evil monster into my head from the time I was born to when they separated me from my family and shipped me across the ocean so three other children and I could commit genocidally charged war crimes under the threat of violence against myself and my family should I fail my mission, and then I was forced to integrate with people I’d been told were devils all my life  which lead to an internal crisis as my views were questioned and the guilt I felt for committing mass murder at age twelve started to eat me alive, all while my support system of mission accomplices crumbled as one was killed in front of me at the start of the mission, one wouldn’t talk to me publicly to keep her cover, and the last--my best friend--was dealing with his trauma and guilt so poorly that he developed a secondary persona to help himself cope with betraying people he’d come to care for.

but yeah haha anxiety is so funny and quirky guys

[doctorstethoscope]

The Right Chapter 23 || Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

hello my loves! Some of you may have already seen this, but I have news! This fic is officially complete. There are thirty chapters, so you still have seven left after today’s update. I’ll be keeping the usual Tuesday/Saturday posting schedule, so you have a month left of updates.

Now that I am done drafting this fic, my requests will be open while I begin to bank up new chapters of the Hotch x Reader Scandal!AU that I plan to write next. Please send in requests here. I would also LOVE if you could fill out this survey about the Scandal!AU so I can get a sense of what you all would like. I will make sure to write it in a way that makes sense, even if you haven’t seen Scandal! 

As always, thanks so much for reading, y’all are just the best. 

Read previous chapters of this fic here!

contains: canon-typical descriptions of violence, cursing, hospital mention

wordcount: 2.3k 

A little while later, Hotch sends JJ and Emily to the school to interview the classmates of the students who had been murdered, and you and Morgan head off to the medical examiner’s office. 

“Find anything interesting in the calls from the tip line?” Morgan asks you as he pulls out of the parking lot, and you shrug. 

“I need to go back through my notes. There were a couple kids' names that came up, but I want to go back and cross check for the names that came up more than once-- i figure if the name only comes up once, it’s kids pranking each other and I don’t want to waste our time on dead ends. Garcia’s looking into a teacher for me, though.” 

“We just need a couple more puzzle pieces, and then it’ll all come together,” Derek says, more to himself than to you, and you murmur out your agreement as he pulls into the examiner’s office.

“Cause of death for Mrs. Mack and Mrs. Sutton was a gunshot wound to the neck. The daughters, to the abdomen,” the doctor says, passing over her report. “The men were all strangled. The boys by hand, the men with a garrote.”

“Any idea what order they were killed in?” You asked. 

“My guess is the women first, one right after the other. Then the sons, and the husbands.” 

“How did he stop the husbands from taking him down while he killed the sons?” Morgan asks skeptically. 

The medical examiner points out a bruise on Mr. Sutton’s skull. “Looks like he was knocked unconscious, maybe by the butt of the gun or something in the home.” She explains.

“Thank you,” you said to the medical examiner, who smiled and left you both to your work.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Morgan asks you.

“White man in his twenties or thirties, snubbed by a woman he desired for another man, taking out the families he’s convinced he’ll never have?” 

“Call Hotch,” he said, taking off at a brisk pace back towards the car and trusting you to follow. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and discovered that Garcia was already calling you. 

“Hi Garcia, can you patch Hotch in?” You asked. 

“Already here bug, and trust me, you’re gonna want to hear this.” She told you, and you put the phone on speaker so Morgan could listen in while he drove. 

“What did you find, Garcia?” Hotch asked. 

“So, I looked into Marc Vexper, and it turns out this long-term English sub has something to hide-- he didn’t make a single card purchase on either day that he was out, and his phone was completely off from the moment he stepped off the school’s campus to the time he returned.” 

“Morgan and I are just leaving the medical examiner’s office now-- Marc fits the profile to a tee.” You interject. 

“Oh but wait, the high school of horrors doesn’t end there,” Garcia warns you. “I took a peek at Marc’s texts looking for clues about his whereabouts, and I noticed some too-friendly chats with Victoria Sullivan, a student in his AP Literature class. Her phone was on both days, and I’ll give you one guess as to where she was both days-- and it wasn’t school.” 

“You’re kidding,” Morgan sighs out. 

“So did he groom Victoria into doing it herself, or was she an accomplice?” Hotch asked. 

“The men were strangled, Aaron. There’s no way she could have done that herself.” You tell him. 

“We need an address, Penelope.” Hotch demands. 

“Already on your phone. The station’s closest.” She tells you. 

“We’ll meet you there.” Hotch says, and the line clicks. 

In a routine you’ve performed too many times to count, Morgan flicks on the lights and sirens as you mount your phone with the GPS sending you in the right direction. It’s all the same as it usually is, so why are you so nervous? 

**********************

Hotch elects not to put on his lights and sirens as he approaches Mr. Vexper’s house, not wanting to alert him that anyone had found him out. There are two cars in the driveway-- a modest sedan with a few dings in it, and a shitbox of an old jeep with a parking permit for the local high school on the back bumper. 

“The girl is here-- she might be a hostage.” Hotch tells Spencer, who nods. “We need to be careful. There’s no need for any other kids to lose their lives,” he says, quietly opening up his car door and gesturing for Spencer to take a back entrance while he takes the front. He climbs the worn wooden steps and peeks into the window, seeing nothing before he takes one hand off of his gun to swing open the front door of the home, where he’s met face to face with the Victoria Sullivan, standing on the main stairway of the home, gun leveled square at the middle of his forehead. 

“Victoria, put the gun down,” Hotch says slowly, raising his own hands as a sign of good faith. “I’m here to help you. Where’s Marc?”

Before Victoria can answer, Hotch hears the woosh of metal in the air and feels an overwhelming crack in his legs, falling to the ground as he yelps in pain. 

“Run, Vicky! You know where to go!” Marc yells, and the girl disappears from Hotch’s blurring line of vision as March continues to beat on Hotch with a crowbar, stomping on his legs. 

Hotch vaguely hears Spencer's running footsteps, and Marc takes off, running in the same direction as Victoria. 

Spencer falls to the ground next to Hotch, attempting to gently tend to his injuries, but Hotch weakly waves him off. 

“Go, go, save the girl, he’ll kill her next. I’m okay. Go,” he coughs out, and after a moment’s hesitation, Spencer goes. 

Hotch groans as he gropes around in his pants pocket, pulling out his cell phone and calling Garcia. 

“I need help,” he says once the line clicks.

****************

If Aaron lived through this, you were going to kill him yourself. You knew you were being irrational, you knew it wasn’t his fault, and worst of all you know that he hadn’t even done something you could be mad at him for, like going in without backup. This was just the job. This just happened sometimes. And you were absolutely fucking livid that it was happening to him. Not to mention scared shitless. 

Morgan had pumped the gas as soon as Garcia called, but it still wasn’t fast enough. Your leg bounced anxiously in the passenger seat. 

“He’s gonna be fine,” Morgan attempted to placate you, but you wouldn’t have it. 

“You don’t know that,” you spat out. 

“He’s tough. He’s got a lot to stick around for. He’s gonna be okay,” He tells you, and this time you don’t argue.

When you finally pull up to the house, Aaron is on a stretcher being loaded onto an ambulance. You throw yourself out of the SUV before it’s even fully stopped, calling out for Aaron. 

“I’m okay,” he sputters out as you climb into the back of the ambulance. 

“No you aren’t, you asshole,” you scoffed at him, your voice a little watery. “Tell the paramedics what happened so they can help you,” you said, stroking at the hair at the top of his head as your chin quivered. 

“Don’t cry,” he says, reaching up for you and you see that his hands are bloody. 

“Shh, shhh. Don’t worry about me. Let them help you,” you calmed him down, trying not to let your tears interrupt the medics when his eyes roll into the back of his head and he loses consciousness.

 Aaron will live, and you suppose you won’t follow through on your threats to kill him. Once he’s in the hospital, they wheel him back to a restricted area, leaving you alone in a waiting room while the rest of the team finds the unsub. You call Jess, let her know what’s going on, but ask that she keep it from Jack until you’re back in the room with him and Hotch is able to talk to Jack himself. You didn’t want Jack to worry, and you knew that Aaron’s assurance that he was fine was the only comfort Jack would accept.

After a while-- it could have been thirty minutes or three hours, Emily appears in the waiting room..

“I was appointed to come check on you,” she says by way of greeting. “Have you seen him yet?”

“Not since they took him out of the ambulance. He looked… bad,” you struggle to find a word that explains the magnitude of it. 

“He’s gonna be fine. No gunshot wounds, just some nasty bruises. I’m sure it looked worse than it actually was.” She consoles you gently.

“I hope you’re right.”

At that moment, a doctor appears in the doorway. “For Agent Hotchner?” He asks, and you walk over to him. 

“I’m Aaron’s partner,” you explain, the word “girlfriend” feeling entirely too childish for the scenario. 

“Agent Hotchner is going to be just fine. His left leg is fractured slightly at the femur and the kneecap, but we’ve put him in a brace to stabilize the knee, and he should recover over the next eight to twelve weeks. He’ll need some physical therapy, and field work is out of the question until he is cleared, but he’ll make a full recovery.  He has a mild concussion and a few bruised ribs, but we’ve given him some meds for the pain and the concussion shouldn’t present any further complications.” 

No field work. Aaron was going to be pissed. “Thank you, doctor.” You said gratefully. 

“He’s been asking for you, if you’d like to follow me,” The doctor responds, and you allow him to lead you down a maze of hallways, leaving you just outside Aaron’s room, where his eyes are shut and his chest rises and falls slowly. Figures, you were sure he’d been up all night running through profiles in his head.

You sat on his right side, away from his injured leg, and rested your head against his mattress, near his hip bone. He looked so fragile like this, wrapped up in a thin blanket and a johnny, bandaged from his collar bone to his toes. You wondered, briefly, if he felt this helpless and frustrated the night that he picked you up from your old apartment. The tears well up against your will, but you allow them to fall, for a few moments. You had earned the right to care for him, to worry about him, to fret. You had earned the right to sit vigil at his hospital bed and try to force images of a lifetime lived without him to stop passing through your head. 

Aaron stirred, and you sucked in a quick breath, not wanting to wake him. He settled, again, and you rested your head back against the mattress, letting the gentle rhythm of his breath lull you to sleep. 

He twitches a little while later, and the sudden movement jolts you awake. His return to the waking world is slower, and you let him come at it at his own pace, not wanting to overwhelm him when he was probably already going to be in pain and disoriented. You hear him mumble out your name and you stand, placing one hand on his cheek and the other in his uninjured palm. 

“I’m right here, baby,” you whispered to him. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, trying to look you up and down without moving his neck. 

“Am I--” you chided gently. “Honey, I’m fine. Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” 

“My leg,” he tells you, trying to sit up, but you push back on his shoulders. 

“Absolutely not,” you tell him. “You broke your leg. You are staying in this bed until a doctor tells you otherwise.” 

“Fuck,” Aaron muttered out. Suddenly, a thought occurs to him. “Is Spencer okay? And the girl, Victoria Sullivan?” 

“The team took them both alive. Spencer is fine, just a little breathless from his run.” You tell him. 

“When is it gonna heal?” He switches topics back to his injury. 

“You mean, when are you going to be allowed into the field again?” You asked skeptically, and he at least has the good grace to look sheepish. “Not for at least six weeks, more than likely closer to ten, plus physical therapy.” 

“God damnit,” Aaron sighs. 

“It could have been a lot worse, Aaron,” you point out softly, and he looks up at you. 

“You’ve been crying.” He says softly. 

“No, I haven’t.” 

“Don’t lie to a profiler,” He chides you gently.

“Well, I’m the woman who loves you and I’ve earned the right to cry when you’re hurt.” You said defensively, but not unkindly.

“Hey, I’m okay. Really, I swear. Come up here,” he urges you, and you roll your watery eyes. 

“I’ll hurt you,” you tell him. 

“You’ll hurt me worse if you don’t come cuddle,” he pouts. 

“Corny bastard,” you chuckle, tenderly sliding into bed next to him. 

Unable to shift and cuddle, Aaron settles for reaching out for your hand, which you allow him to take in his own. He strokes his thumb over the back of your palm tenderly. 

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he whispers, and you might start crying again right there.

“Don’t do it again. I was ready to kill you myself,” you warned him. 

“Noted.” 

“We should call Jack. I didn’t tell him what was going on, I didn’t want to scare him. Jess knows.” 

“I just… want to hold your hand for a couple more minutes.” 

“Okay, love. A few more minutes.”

tagging:  @romanogersendgame @wanniiieeee      @zheezs14      @greeneyedblondie44 @angelic-kisses13  @baumarvel @ssamorganhotchner  @ijustwannaread2k19    @rexit-mo @shmaptainhotchnersmain @qtip-blog @averyhotchner  @the-modernmary @itsmytimetoodream @choppa-style @hotforhotchner11 @infinite-tides @isthatme-thatsme @g-l-pierce @bakugouswh0r3 @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads

[collidingxworlds]

So!

Since I managed to do what I’ve been trying to do for months (aka finishing my Muse Pages and updating the Verses Pages), I decided to treat myself and give into the Stranger Things hype that has been dominating my dashboard for a good while.

Under the cut there are Five’s and Abigail’s brand-new ST verses! I still have drafts and my creativity is still a bit dried, but if anyone is interested in plotting something with them in their AU, hit me up ^^

Abigail’s verse can start in any season, while Five’s has a mandatory start in season 1 (but I can work around it if needed).

ABIGAIL HOBBS

Stanger Things AU || I’m not the Final Girl, I’m the Monster

Meet Abigail Hobbs. Orphan, daughter of a late, notorious serial killer, yet another young life ruined by the system. One of the latest arrival in Hawkins. Driven by a dark, obsessive love for his daughter and by the need to consume her, Garrett Jacob Hobbs started to kill girls who resembled Abigail when she was just a young kid, forcing her into the role of the lure and making her an accomplice to his crimes. Hobbs was eventually discovered by the FBI and killed, but not before he could murder his wife and almost mortally wound his daughter, in one last, desperate attempt of taking her down with him. Abigail was only twelve at the time and, when she woke up from her coma, she found herself with no family, no house, no money and a nasty scar on her neck as a permanent reminder of what kind of monster had spawned her. After bouncing from one foster family to the next, she eventually ends up in Hawkins at the age of 16. Strongly independent with a deep dislike for rules and laws, she finds herself joining the town’s petty crime circle in the matter of a couple of weeks. Nothing new for her, since her record has already quite a few, even if always small, stains on it. She quickly gains a reputation for ganging up with the local teen drug dealers and for being a permanent fixture on Hopper “watch out for” list, but her real talents and urges, the one she inherited from her father, are yet to come out into the light.

[ Headcanons ]

-

NUMBER FIVE

Stranger Things AU || The Boy from the Other Side

Hawkins secret lab isn’t the only place were children with extraordinary abilities have been brought together and trained. Doctor Reginald Hargreeves has spent a great deal of his life studying the paranormal and the theories concerning parallel universes to our own. And, eventually, his researches have led him to a dreadful conclusion: there is a much darker reality lurking just past the confines of our dimension, ready and eager to break in and infect the world as we know it. Counter measures had to be taken and this is how Project Umbrella was born. Seven children, all equipped with slightly different psionic powers, trained and experimented on with the aim of creating a squad that could, one day, save the world from such a dark, impending threat. Things, however, didn't go as planned and quickly spiralled out of hand one fateful day. Perhaps it was the too strict training. Perhaps it was the lack of time for the children to express themselves. Or maybe it was just the bud of teenage rebellion. Number 7's powers got out of control during one of her special training. She was the most powerful but also the most sensible of all the children, kept isolated for "safety reasons". A tear in the fabric of space and time was opened and hell broke lose. The lab was destroyed, Doctor Hargreeves and his assistance Grace disappeared in the flames. All the data from their research, including vital information about the dark dimension, lost. The children were scattered. Number 6, was killed, while Number 7 was knocked into a coma. 1, 2, 3 and 4 managed to get out alive. As for Number 5, he was the closest to 7's location when it all happened. In the attempt to get them both out of the collapsing lab, he tried to use his abilities to portal out. Grave mistake. The energy from the unstable gate laced onto his own and sucked them in. He barely managed to push his sister out of the portal before it swallowed him, trapping him in the Upside Down. A year later, just a few days after Will Byers' disappearance, a 13 years old boy appeared in the woods. Clothes dirty and all torn. Deadly pale skin caked in mud, blood and black ooze. A weird tattoo on his wrist, a stylised umbrella in a circle and the number "5" in the middle of its cover. The time spent in the Upside Down has left Five with very blurred memories of his life in the lab and absolutely no recollection of the accident. All he knows is that his siblings are out there, somewhere, and that there is a creature lurking in the shadow reality, ready to bring on the end of the world.

[ Headcanons ]

[dumdumsun]

Of Starlight

A/N: Onto the final five chapters ❤️ Dw though bc season two is still being written, so we’re not done here

Warnings: mentions of blood and violence

Word Count: 2571

—————————————

Chapter 16: Accomplices

The pain in Five’s side was still stinging, but he tried to ignore it as they entered the pub. He was fortunate to have someone like (Y/N) fretting over his well-being enough to let him lean some of his weight on her as they walked. Her arm was wrapped around his waist, hand resting above his wound, his own arm wrapped around her waist. Klaus, once seeing Luther, turned to his siblings and pointed towards their colossal brother. “Look.” He smiled as if to say ‘told you so’. The four of them approached the table Luther settled for, the man staring up at them under heavy brows. “Trying a little hair of the dog, are we? Hm?” Klaus lightly teased.

“Leave me alone.” He sulked, bringing his cup to his lips. The four leaned closer to provide their own words of encouragement to get him to work with them, but Diego sat beside his brother.

“Give us a minute.” Was all he said. The three others stared at the vigilante for a second before Klaus shrugged.

“Okay. Come on. Maybe they’ll brood each other to death.” He walked away from the table, motioning for the younger two to follow. (Y/N) turned the both of them around and walked with Klaus. They leaned on a table that was almost out of total earshot of the conversation. The three wordlessly watched the two of them talk, catching but a few words now and again. Beside her, (Y/N) felt Five lean up straight, away from her side. He braced both hands on the table behind him, trying to steady himself. She stared at the boy in concern and shifted a little closer. His head turned to her and watched as she motioned for him to lean against her again, if he wanted. Five’s eyes flicked around her face, seriously conflicted about whether or not he wanted to be comforted and assisted by the only person who truly took it upon themselves to do so. But he figured she’d been caring for him for so long, she seemed happy to do just about anything for him. What more was simply letting her help him stand straight? He wouldn’t hesitate to do it for her. So, with a small grunt, he pressed his uninjured side against her, the girl smiling contently and wrapping her arm around him again. Klaus’s movement beside them caught their attention. He tapped his wrist with his finger as if to symbolize a wristwatch. Five only nodded at him either in acknowledgement or confirmation, (Y/N) didn’t know.

She very gently kissed Five’s hair once Klaus looked away again. “How’re you feeling?” She whispered. The boy hummed and shifted his feet. Reaching up, he held onto the hand of the arm wrapped around his shoulders. The gentle squeeze he gave was enough to answer her question. The three at the table perked their heads up at Luther’s exclamation, “You should’ve led with that!” The man pushed himself out of his chair and hurried towards the exit. Five and (Y/N) glanced at each other before following their brother. Literally ripping the door off its hinges, Luther charged out of the pub, his siblings hurrying after.

-------------------------------------------------

Daylight had burnt out by the time Allison returned to the cabin from the hospital, where she had abandoned the officer she’d been deceiving into helping her find clues about Vanya and Leonard. As she ascended the small staircase to the porch, the sound of violin music reached her ears and a wind that seemed to only be affecting the area surrounding the cabin blew around just about everything. She stalked towards the entrance of the cabin, perplexed by the random occurrence around her. “Vanya? Is that you?” She called out, but only received violin strings in response. Fortunately, the front door was unlocked, granting her easy access. Stepping inside, Vanya was standing in the middle of the lounge room, absorbed in her music as that same wind shook the lights above them, the curtains, and rocked the chairs beside her. “Vanya, there you are. What is going on?” Allison closed the door behind her as her sister ceased the playing and turned to her.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to find you. Are you okay?”

Vanya hesitated. “Yeah?”

“There’s something… weird going on. What’s causing it?”

The chirping of the crickets outside saved them from the silence that would’ve followed Allison’s question. Vanya shifted on her feet before tilting her chin up. “Me.”

Allison, suspicious, slowly walked closer. “What do you mean, ‘me’?”

“I mean… I made those things happen. With my powers,” Her words made Allison stop altogether and stare in shock. “Turns out I’ve had them all this time. It’s weird, huh?”

It took her a few seconds, but Allison eventually let out a choked gasp, blinking and shaking her head. “It’s- It’s incredible.”

Sensing that there was more to why she was there, Vanya furrowed her brows. “But?”

“Can- Can we do this in the car?”

“Why?”

“You’re not gonna want to hear it.” Allison sighed. Vanya tilted her head with a false smile.

“Well, that’s never stopped you before.” She sassed. Allison looked away before taking a deep breath.

“Leonard Peabody? His real name is Harold Jenkins,” This information left Vanya speechless, staring at her sister with an unreadable expression as she walked closer to her. “Remember when I couldn’t find anything in the library on Leonard? It’s because Leonard Peabody doesn’t exist. Harold Jenkins does. He was in prison for twelve years. He murdered his father when he was thirteen-”

“This is… insane. His dad was an engineer at the-”

“I have the police report in the car, Vanya. I can show you.”

Vanya hesitated again, blinking slowly. “I don’t… I don’t understand.”

“Leonard, Harold, I- I know it doesn’t make any sense, and I know it sounds crazy, but we were in his house. He has pictures of all of us with our eyes gouged out.”

“W-What? I-”

“I promise I will tell you everything in the car, but it is not safe-” Allison began pulling her sister to the front door but Vanya stopped her.

“No, stop!” She sighed, exasperated, before taking a seat in one of the chairs. Allison knelt in front of her, not sure what to say.

“Look, um… I can’t imagine how hard it is for you to hear this...how you feel right now, but I… I love you, and I- I just… wanna be here for you, as your sister.”

“There’s just no way,” Vanya murmured, slightly shaking her head. “I mean, I love him. This just doesn’t make any sense. And this power… I- I don’t know. I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know what to do.” She began breaking down, placing her head in hands. As she sniffled, Allison stared off, in thought. Coming to a realization, she furrowed her brows.

“I understand now.”

-------------------------------------------------

The metal squealing of the door alerted the four-year-old (Y/N) to peek over at what was happening. Her father demanded that she stand with her back to them until she was told otherwise, but he wasn’t currently watching her. She watched as Grace walked into the dark room with a tray of food for Vanya, who had sat up in bed. (Y/N) was informed by her robotic mother that her sister was sick, so she had to be transported away from her and her siblings to avoid spreading her infection. She missed her dearly and always asked Grace to wish Vanya a speedy recovery for her. “Who’s hungry?” She heard her mother chirp. She couldn’t see much else, for after Allison walked in, their father stood in the doorway, blocking Vanya from her view. “Now. You have to take your medicine, like a good girl. It’ll help calm your nerves.”

(Y/N) turned her full body towards the room, truly curious as to why she was brought down here if she couldn’t even speak to Vanya. “It’s time, Number Three,” She heard Reginald’s voice. “Do it.” From the very slim space between her parents, she could see Allison walk up to Vanya, but not their faces or actions. After a few seconds of silence, Allison sighed and began to speak,

“I heard a rumor… you think you’re just ordinary.”

There were no other words spoken between her sisters. Allison was ordered to leave the room afterwards. When she joined her sister’s side, (Y/N) quickly grabbed hold of her hand. “What happened, sis?”

“I don’t know… I just… I had to use my power. But I don’t know why.”

“Oh…”

“Number Eight,” Their father’s voice made both girls jump and tilt their heads up. He stood before them, taking off his monocle. He then crouched before them and stared (Y/N) in her eyes. “Number Eight, summon a clone. Tell it to make sure Number Seven does not leave her room. No matter what. Understand?”

“I understand,” She whispered before turning away and singing her tune. From her shadow, a clone of herself appeared and stood motionless, awaiting an order. “Make sure… Make sure Seven doesn’t leave her room. No matter what.” She quietly ordered, the clone only walking past them and standing in front of the door. Reginald watched its every move, pleased when it didn’t do anything to defy its orders. He nodded and stood to his full height.

“Come along, Number Three, Number Eight.” He walked down the long hallway to exit. (Y/N) stared at her clone, not leaving her spot until Grace placed a hand on her shoulder and guided her down the hall.

-------------------------------------------------

“He made us accomplices.”

Tears in her eyes, Vanya could only stare at her sister in betrayal. Allison tried to meet her eyes, but darted her gaze back down to the floor in shame. “You did this to me…?”

“I… I didn’t realize.”

“You knew this whole time? That I had powers?!” Vanya jumped up from her chair and walked away, but Allison stood as well.

“No, no! I didn’t really understand until I came today, until I saw it.”

Vanya turned to her, her voice shaking as she spoke, “Well, now it all makes sense. This is why you guys never wanted me around.”

“What?! No!”

“You couldn’t risk me threatening your place in the house, your- your dominance. You and (Y/N) constantly whispering to each other, mocking me!”

“That is not true. Don’t blame (Y/N) like this, she didn’t-”

“You two couldn’t handle the fact that Dad might find me special!”

“You are special, Vanya! With or without powers!” Allison raised her voice. Vanya’s face began to flush red with anger.

“Don’t- Don’t say that! You destroyed my life!”

“Oh, please, Vanya. Everything is out in the open. We can move on!”

Vanya’s expression set into determination, as if she had decided on something. “Oh, I’m moving on. But not with you, with Leonard.”

“With Harold, you mean.”

“With Leonard! The only person who has ever loved me for me.”

Rumbling sounded quietly, but neither sister paid much attention. At Vanya’s words, Allison simply scoffed. Vanya lifted her chin. “Look me in the eye and tell me you’re not threatened now.” The wooden wind chimes clanked against each other as the curtains in front of the open windows swayed with the wind powered by Vanya. Allison glanced to the side, clearly nervous.

“I don’t wanna argue with you-”

“Then go!” Vanya boomed. Allison winced and slightly reared back as a crash could be heard from the distance. The wind picked up and their hair now flowed along with it.

“I’m only trying to help you-”

“I don’t want your help!” Vanya screamed.

“Vanya, I love you!” Allison cried.

“Stop saying that!!!”

Allison looked up as the lights flickered, the ceiling lamp swinging above their heads. She watched as Vanya’s power swayed the rocking chair, the items on the table, the dreamcatcher, then to her own sister, who looked as if she was going to explode from her heated anger. Glass smashed from somewhere in the house, but she was only worried about her sister. “Are you okay?”

“I! Said! Go!” Her scream sent the lights above them shattering. Allison gasped and tried to block the glass from falling onto her. She realized then that there was no stopping her sister in any reasonable manner. She choked on a sob as she set her eyes on Vanya.

“Please, don’t make me do this,” She cried, but Vanya only stood before her, silent, fuming. Allison gasped and opened her mouth. “I heard a rumor…” But she didn’t get to finish, for Vanya’s violin bow came into contact with her throat, slashing across it. All movement within the cabin halted as Allison gasped, then choked, blood squirting and streaming down to her chest. Realizing what she’d done, Vanya’s expression dropped, as well as her bow, as she rushed to her sister.

“Allison!” She grabbed ahold of her as Allison pressed her hand to her bleeding throat. They stared each other in the eyes as Allison began to fall to her knees. “No! No! Allison!” Once she fell to the floor, Vanya hovered over her, not knowing what to do. She screamed as her sister opened her mouth wide to talk, to squeak, to gasp, to do anything, but only her chokes were what left her lips.

“Vanya!” Leonard burst through the door. His face dropped at the sight before him.

“I didn’t mean to!” Vanya cried. But Leonard, once he came to terms with their current situation, smiled.

Almost excited.

-------------------------------------------------

The ride to Leonard’s grandmother’s cabin was silent. Five drove the car, eyes fixed on the road and beside him, Klaus sat in the passenger seat, his knees up to his chest. In the back, (Y/N) sat in between Luther and Diego, the latter staring out the window, the former tapping his foot to the floor of the car in impatience. Suddenly leaning forward, Luther was right behind Five. “Hey. Can you go any faster?”

“Ask me again, and I’ll burn you with a cigarette lighter.” Was all he said, but when Luther sat back again, the boy pressed on the gas harder.

Arriving at the cabin, Luther and (Y/N) were the first out of the car, bolting up the stairs with Klaus right on their heels. Luther burst inside, but he and (Y/N) froze at the sight before them.

“Allison!”

“No!”

Luther got to her before she could, kneeling down and gently lifting her head. Allison’s dark brown eyes were wide, blood still spilling from her open throat. Beside him, (Y/N) was sobbing into her hands, which were covering her mouth. Klaus was on his other side, his hands on Luther’s shoulder, watching as he cried for Allison, begging her to wake up, to look at him. (Y/N) reached one of her trembling hands forward and grasped Allison’s limp one in hers. Behind her, she heard Five’s feet scruff against the carpet.

She stood, stumbling back into the boy, but he caught hold of her before either could fall. He turned her in his hold and held her head against his shoulder, watching as Klaus lifted his head and glanced over at them with teary eyes. Five could’ve winced at the death grip (Y/N) had on his arms, but he didn’t.

—————————————

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[dailyunsolvedmysteries]

Dian Fossey, the gorilla lady

Dian Fossey was born January 16, 1932 – c. December 26, 1985) was an American primatologist and conservationist known for undertaking an extensive study of mountain gorilla groups from 1966 until her 1985 murder. Fossey was one of the foremost primatologists in the world, a member of the "Trimates", a group formed of prominent female scientists originally sent by Leakey to study great apes in their natural environments, along with Jane Goodall who studied chimpanzees, and Birutė Galdikas, who studied orangutans. She spent 20 years in Rwanda, where she actively supported conservation efforts, strongly opposed poaching and tourism in wildlife habitats, and made more people acknowledge sapient gorillas.

Sometime during the day on New Year's Eve 1977, Fossey's favorite gorilla, Digit, was killed by poachers. As the sentry of study group 4, he defended the group against six poachers and their dogs, who ran across the gorilla study group while checking antelope traplines. Digit took five spear wounds in ferocious self-defense and managed to kill one of the poachers' dogs, allowing the other 13 members of his group to escape. Digit was decapitated, and his hands cut off for ashtrays. He was twelve years old. After his mutilated body was discovered by research assistant Ian Redmond, Fossey's group captured one of the killers. He revealed the names of his five accomplices, three of whom were later imprisoned. Fossey later described Digit's killing as the "saddest event in all my years of sharing the daily lives of mountain gorilla."

The event plunged Fossey into depression. She isolated herself in her cabin, consuming large amounts of alcohol and cigarettes. The deaths of some of her most studied gorillas caused Fossey to devote more of her attention to preventing poaching and less on scientific publishing and research. Fossey became more intense in protecting the gorillas and began to employ more direct tactics: she and her staff cut animal traps almost as soon as they were set; frightened, captured and humiliated the poachers; held their cattle for ransom; burned their hunting camps and even mats from their houses.

Fossey was reported to have captured and held Rwandans she suspected of poaching. She allegedly beat a poacher's testicles with stinging nettles. In a letter to a friend, she wrote, "We stripped him and spread eagled him and lashed the holy blue sweat out of him with nettle stalks and leaves…"  She even reportedly kidnapped and held for ransom the child of a suspected poacher. 

In the early morning of December 27, 1985, Fossey was discovered murdered in the bedroom of her cabin located at the far edge of the camp in the Virunga Mountains, Rwanda. Her body was found face-up near the two beds where she slept, roughly 7 feet (2 m) away from a hole that her assailant(s) had apparently cut in the wall of the cabin. Wayne Richard McGuire, Fossey's last research assistant at Karisoke, was summoned to the scene by Fossey's house servant and found her bludgeoned to death, reporting that "when I reached down to check her vital signs, I saw her face had been split, diagonally, with one machete blow." The cabin was littered with broken glass and overturned furniture, with a 9 mm handgun and ammunition beside her on the floor. Her cabin had been ransacked. However, robbery was not believed to be the motive for the crime, as Fossey's valuables were still in the cabin, including her passport, handguns, and thousands of dollars in U.S. bills and traveler's checks.

The last entry in her diary read:

When you realize the value of all life, you dwell less on what is past and concentrate more on the preservation of the future.

After Fossey's death, her entire staff was arrested. This included Rwandan Emmanuel Rwelekana, a tracker who had been fired from his job after he allegedly tried to kill Fossey with a machete, according to the government's account of McGuire's trial. All were later released, except Rwelekana, who was later found dead in prison, supposedly having hanged himself.

Rwandan courts later tried and convicted Wayne McGuire in absentia for her murder. The alleged motive was that McGuire murdered Fossey in order to steal the manuscript of the sequel to her 1983 book, Gorillas in the Mist. At the trial, investigators said McGuire was not happy with his own research and wanted to use "any dishonest means possible" to complete his work. McGuire had returned to the United States in July 1987, and because no extradition treaty exists between the U.S. and Rwanda, McGuire did not return to Rwanda. is penalty was death by shooting.

Several subsequent books, including Farley Mowat's biography of Fossey, Woman in the Mists (New York, NY: Warner Books, 1987), have suggested alternative theories regarding her murder, including intimations that she may have been killed by financial interests linked to tourism or illicit trade. It has been alleged that Fossey had potentially damning evidence of gold-smugglers, hence the ransacked cabin. Her murder remains unsolved.

[cilly-the-writer]

MAGIC SEEKERS, GRANTEES, AND MORE | Part 3 | 2,037 words

NOTE: Final installment of a short story! First part is here. The short story is 5,296 words total. 

WHAT’S IN IT: Magic powers + agents + evil villain(?) forcing the good guys(?) to work with his son and see he’s not all that bad! It’s supposed to be a slightly less serious story, but not without a heaping cup of big drama and suspense

CW: Violence and mention of death

--

     Zion sat in a dim interrogation room. The overhead lights buzzed like they were about to burn out. There was a nagging, growing pit in his stomach as a GIA agent asked him the same questions over and over. 

     "Why are you covering for this person?” the interrogating agent asked.

     "I’m trying to tell you–he's not that kind of person!” Zion said. “He's never even killed anyone!”

     “But he works for your father. Your father has people killed. That makes him an accomplice to a murderer.”

     “My father doesn’t kill innocent people! It’s not like that! Maybe it’s not right… I don’t know. But he’s saved people’s lives when your organization sat back and said there was nothing they could do. I’m telling you… he’s not that kind of person.”

     Vincent was standing in the room while Zion gave the speech. He’d been there the whole time, silently judging him as the interrogation went nowhere.

     "But he'll plant twelve bombs around the city?" Vincent finally spoke up. 

     Zion grit his teeth and seethed at the way Vincent made him feel like a liar.

     "Listen, if any more of these bombs go off," the interrogating agent continued, "you'll be held responsible.”

    "Wait. Any more?” Zion asked. “As in, one of them already went off?"

     "Yes. You're lucky there weren't any injuries or casualties."

     "Oh my god!" Zion threw his head back in frustration and snapped back to narrow his eyes at the interrogator, "I told you the bombs were set up in a pattern. How am I supposed to help you figure out the pattern… if you don’t tell me anything?!”

     “You need to tell us who did this so it doesn’t become a pattern,” the interrogating officer said. 

     Vincent, on the other hand though, seemed to contemplate whether Zion had a point. He didn’t want to give Zion all the details of the case. But at this point, he wondered… What harm could it do?

     “The first bomb went off downtown at the old post office,” Vincent said. “There’s been no second bomb. There’s no pattern to find.”

     Zion sucked his cheek in and squinted at the floor. Maybe that wasn’t enough for them to go off, but Zion knew the MA a lot better than that.

     “Which had a fire a few years ago, right?” Zion asked.

     “It did.” Vincent said, still annoyed. "Why?"

     Somehow, Zion convinced them to take him to a five-story office building downtown. It was a sleek building with shiny glass windows. The lobby and much of its decor were visible from the street, showcasing a white marble water fountain with angels carved into the sides as its grand centerpiece. Renaissance paintings even hung on the walls like it was a fancy art museum. 

     A couple of “FOR SALE” banners hung over the front of the building, listing a phone number in bold black lettering. The lights were on inside, but it was clearly abandoned.

     The GIA had caution taped the street, checked the building inside and out, and hours later–there was still no leads about any bombs. The caution tape remained, but the GIA doubted anything was there. When the news got back to Zion, he insisted they take him there. Right to the building himself.

     It sounded like a pointless trip, but given the circumstances and the letter from Mr. Marquette–they allowed it. They let him go with Vincent, who was beginning to feel like he’d wasted any faith he’d had in the kid.

     “I don’t know what you think you’re gonna find that the GIA couldn’t,” Vincent said. “It’s empty.” Then he crossed his arms and leaned back into a street lamp, gesturing for Zion to go ahead without him.

     “You don’t I’m gonna run away?”

     “Your father said he’d send you right back to us if you did.”

     “What?” Zion said, offended. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe Vincent. He did. It was just definitely like his father to make sure every detail had been accounted for.

     Zion shook his head and headed across the street, ducking under caution tape on his way to the building’s front steps. He quickly headed inside to the front foyer, but once he got there, he slowed down to glance around and marvel. The foyer ceiling rose over twenty feet high, shimmering with accents of gold paint and imagery of gold suns all around. Zion remembered reading about the Apollo Center in the newspaper. It was rumored to sell for an estimated $2 billion.

     Zion stopped in the middle of the lobby and stared at a glittering, gold sun behind the hardware and mechanisms of a giant clock. The fine details and luxury were definitely mesmerizing. It was hard to look away from the beauty and sparkle of all of it.

     As Zion got lost in his trance, he almost didn’t hear as the entrance doors smashed open and glass shattered across the floor. The next instant, someone was grabbing him by the waist and he was out of the building before he could take his next breath. He opened his eyes facing the street and the change in scenery startled him. It happened so fast that he thought they had teleported back to the building’s front steps. 

     And in that moment of surprise, the deep boom of an explosion went off behind them. Smoke and debris flew into the air and clouded the street so fast that Vincent’s face fell and he ran into the clouds casting his time-reversing magic.

     The clouds of smoke shrank backwards in time and pieces of debris reformed, but there was no saving the building. He could only reverse some of the explosion. But that was enough to repress the fire and shrink it to a single flame. It took some effort to get there, but it went out easily with a small gust of wind.

     In the meantime, Zion had winced at the sound of the explosion while his savior, Vera, yanked him down the rest of the building steps–dashing into the street until they made it to safety on the other side.

     “Oh my god,” Vera said, shaking her head at Zion’s foolishness, “I can’t believe you did that. Boss just realized what you were doing when he saw your location. He said NOT to do it again.”

     “Oh really?” Zion smirked.

     “Do what again?” Vincent called from across the street, having just finished containing the fire. He took sharp steps Vera’s way now. He recalled her from the other day. She was part of the MA too.

     “He also said not to get involved,” Vera whispered fast to Zion, “I’d love to help, but I don’t know anything.” And with that, Vera just took off in a speed run. She was gone with a blast of pink energy in the wind behind her.

“What was that all about?” Vincent said bitterly, “How did you know the Apollo Center was next?”

     “I mean, I didn’t,” Zion shrugged, “not for sure. But I heard about this cover up after the fire. I know it was a small fire, but the damage was bad. One of the renovation crew members came to the MA and said the building was severely compromised… But he couldn’t say anything out of fear of retaliation.”

     Vincent stared back at him, speechless. He wasn’t sure if he should believe Zion.

“My dad’s kept tabs on the building ever since the renovation. He had some of his agents check it out and they said the guy was right. It was a disaster waiting to happen. It could have collapsed on a bunch of innocent people.” 

     Vincent held his tongue for a moment longer.

     “Then what do you think is next?”

     “Well… there’s a few other buildings that should have been condemned too.”

     Zion listed them off, and within the hour, the GIA got to work blocking all the corresponding streets off. It was enough for the GIA to stop pressing him for information, but Zion still insisted he visit each of the locations he’d given. Just as he had visited the Apollo Center.

     Sure enough, if Zion was in any danger–if he came near any of the bomb sites–Vera was sent to stop him. It was a rather quick verification process. And by the end of the day, the agency had identified all twelve bomb locations thanks to Zion’s help.

     The last building they stopped by was an apartment complex riddled with black mold and water damage, covered up by superficial renovations. Over a hundred tenants were scheduled to move in next week. So naturally, it was next in line to be blown up. GIA agents were already there though. The building went up into flames under a starry sky, and agents threw magic energy fields around it to contain it.

     By that point though, Vincent and Zion had been walking back to the GIA headquarters. They had already left the scene, leaving other agents to take care of any fallout. But Vincent still stopped in his tracks and turned to watch the blazing fire captured by a rainbow of energy fields.

     “You said your father doesn’t kill innocent people.” Vincent said, seemingly out of nowhere. He paused, appearing to be deep in thought. After a moment though, he continued, “So why did he kill agent Valli?”

     “Agent Valli?” 

     “Five years ago–a GIA agent was killed in broad daylight by an MA agent. It was all over the news. They said Mr. Marquette ordered it. There was even surveillance footage.”

     “Oh…” Zion’s voice grew quieter. “I remember hearing about it… Yeah. It was one of his coworkers that came to the MA. With footage of a crime he committed… they erased it from the surveillance cameras, but his coworker kept a copy.”

     “A copy? A copy of what? What crime?”

     “Uh, well,” Zion said, not wanting to get into the details. It seemed like a touchy subject. “He set a fire. People died.”

    “Set a fire? Are you kidding me? He literally saved people from a burning building the week before they killed him.”

     Zion blinked, nervous as Vincent took a step closer. 

     “The Aurora Havens?” Zion asked to confirm if that’s what he was referring to.

     “Yes, the homeless shelter.”

     “That’s…” Zion scratched the back of his head, “...that’s what he set on fire.”

     Vincent stared back, processing a wave of anger in complete silence. It looked like he was trying to decide what he was going to do–if he wanted to hit Zion or kill him right then and there. But after about six seconds of Zion holding his breath in fear, all Vincent did was shake his head and say, “No.” in a grim tone. He rejected Zion’s story. It couldn’t be further from the truth to him.

     “I’m… I’m not lying.” Zion was sweating this one out. He was starting to think he should have just lied and said he didn’t know anything. “I swear.”

     But the situation didn’t escalate much further.

     “Go.” Vincent gave him a cold look. “Get out of here. And stay away from the GIA.” 

     Confused, but not stupid, Zion heeded his warning and ran off. 

     Their business together was done. He had helped the GIA like his father wanted. There was nothing more to discuss. Vincent and the rest of the agency could continue to hate him if they wanted to. 

     Only a few weeks later though, Zion walked into the MA intel room and froze at the sight of Vera with Vincent. Vincent sat at a computer watching the rollback of footage from the night the Aurora Havens caught on fire. Confirming that every bit Zion had told him, was true.

     Mr. Marquette didn’t kill innocent people.

     Vincent’s father, Agent Valli, was a murderer.

     Nothing was said for a long while. Vincent had even noticed Zion’s entrance in the security cameras nearby and said nothing. The footage was hard to accept. He hadn’t wanted it to be true. He didn’t want to remember his father this way. It had taken him a few weeks to even entertain the possibility–to ask the MA to show him the footage.

     When he finally turned around, all he said was:

“How do I join the MA?”