#but I didn't give them anything and I filed a police report about it so all is good

[chaoticeddie]

someone tried to scam me out of $1000 today

[808airsoftbros]

Missing 411 (Female Idols)

Author: This special chapter is also posted on my wattpad and decided to post it here too to help revive this dead Tumblr account. Also if you want to see more check out the Masterlist.

Y/N's POV

It's been ten years since that stormy night... Where everything went to hell... Awakened something that was never supposed to be in this world. What is it? We will never truly know and perhaps it's for the best.

Now you all must be asking what I'm talking about. I don't know much since I'm a foreign government agency from America to help with the Korean National Police Agency.

All these accounts and stories are based on reports filed by the KNPA, witnesses, and survivors of their encounters with this... thing.

I cannot disclose everything as this case is classified and under investigation by the Republic of Korea National Military and the National Intelligence Service.

It all began ten years ago on August 19, 2019, when a massive typhoon struck the Korean peninsula turning Seoul into a rubble mess than ever in history.

Everything was in total devastation, small businesses, and homes were destroyed, and families pretty much lost everything so much so that even K-pop idols began lending a hand, and those who were on tour or elsewhere donated money.

I will start with the first case... The unsolved case of the disappearance of Jennie Kim and Jeon Jungkook...

~

Flashback

Date: August 21, 2019 Location: Seoul, South Korea

Jisoo's POV

It's been two days since the massive typhoon struck the city of Seoul, I was in the safety of the dorm when it struck and thankfully nothing was damaged or lost but the same cannot be said for the unlucky ones.

Some were caught in a bad time and the street vendor's property has been damaged beyond repair including those I always visit.

"I can't believe mother nature is capable of such devastation..." I muttered looking at the rubble of fallen trees, flipped cars, and broken street lamps.

"Well, that's nature for you, come on, those people need all the help they can get," Chaeyoung replied and I nodded.

Walking around the streets, determined to help those in need as much as possible, other idols have joined us in our efforts helping where they can, and offering assistance to the rescue operatives.

The streets were flooded in some areas, especially the underground parking lots, the sewer systems were overflowed and clogged causing the sewages to flood the streets.

Everyone worked hard to guide the survivors to shelter camps to tend to the wounded and sick. My arms and legs ached like hell but if it's for the people, I must keep going.

"Jake said this is all we can do for now until firefighters and Coast Guard crews clear up the debris in the heavily impacted parts, I'd say we take a break," I explained to the girls and they nodded.

As we sat down under the shelter camp, we saw BTS covered in mud and sweat approaching, they all looked equally exhausted and worn out.

"Ah, I see you boys managed to make it, I thought you all were on a tour," I greeted and Namjoon chuckled.

"Hey, this city is our home, we can't just simply watch by as the people suffer. We lend our hand wherever we can," Namjoon replied.

"Right, there are so many children lost from their parents, I heard some of them didn't make it out," Jennie mentioned and he sighed.

"Real shame, I pity those poor souls, nobody could've expected a typhoon like this, throughout my years, I have never seen anything like this," Jungkook commented.

As the boys joined us under the tent, Taehyung was kind enough to give us water to quench our thirst, and I couldn't feel more relief as I sipped down the water.

Suddenly, Jungkok and Jennie stood up but before they could walk away from the tent I stopped them.

"Hey, where are you two going?" I asked curiously.

"I overheard there are some cabins in the woods, possible someone could've been sheltering there during the storm and will see if we can help or not," Jungkook answered and I nodded.

"Alright, be safe out there," I warned them and they nodded.

"Don't worry Jichu, we're always careful~," Jennie assured and walked away with him.

Though I had a bad feeling about it, I shrugged it off as I didn't have much time to think about it as the fire chief called us over requesting our assistance with the water pumps.

In the next several hours as the sun was starting to set and dusk was approaching, however, Jennie and Jungkook had yet to return.

"Hey, you heard from Kookie any chance?" I asked Jin and he shrugged.

"No idea, no call on the radio or anything, I was about to ask you," Jin answered unsurely and I was growing concerned.

Deciding to investigate the cabins as a group, we went to their last known location which is the cabins in the woods, we kept our guard up for any wild animals that may loom in the area, and as we reached the cabins, I felt dread as the cabins were dead quiet.

Looking around, there was no sign of any wild animals or birds in the trees anywhere and the area wasn't as damaged as the rest of the forest.

"I don't like the looks of this..." Suga commented.

"Yeah, it's too quiet for my liking, I feel like something is gonna pounce on us at any second," Hoseok replied.

"Let's make this fast and find those two before it gets dark," Namjoon said and we agreed.

Immediately, we began searching the cabins and the surrounding nature but as time went on, we couldn't find a single trace of them anywhere or signs of life.

I was now growing even more worried as they somehow disappeared like they never existed... Until...

"Hey, I think I found something!" Lisa called out and we went up to her.

"What is it?" I asked.

Lisa showed us Jennie's phone and wallet along with Jungkook's wallet containing his bank cards and IDs inside one of the bedrooms in the cabin.

"Is there anything else?" I asked and she shook her head.

"Nope, not any sign of footprints or traces, it's like they vanished like a ghost," She sighed and looked at the time it was getting dark.

"Will report this to the police when we get back, for now, there's nothing more we can do for them until morning, it's too dangerous to search at night," Namjoon explained and I felt devastated.

"W-We can't just abandon them, they're like family to us," I begged and he shook his head.

"I understand how you feel, Jisoo, and I feel the same way for Kookie but will be no good to anyone if we're attacked by predators," He replied in a sympathetic tone.

Reluctantly agreeing, I felt shameful and guilty as I felt like I had to abandon Jennie as she could be seriously injured or God knows what I knew Namjoon was right but it was my fault for letting them go in the first place.

"I should've stopped them..." I muttered to myself as we left the cabins.

~

Present

Y/N's POV

Since then, the group went to the nearby police station which was still intact, and reported a missing person case, a search was later held the next morning but despite their best efforts, no traces were ever found besides their wallets and Jennie's phone.

We couldn't turn it on as the screen was cracked and it was damaged but we did manage to extract the data but found nothing out of the ordinary.

The search went on for some time until...

~

Date: August 30, 2019 Location: Seoul, South Korea

Y/N's POV

Arriving in Korea at the airport, I was greeted by one of the agents of the NIS and he drove me over to the police station in Seoul.

"So, I was told I would be briefed on this investigation, what do we have?" I asked.

"Well, two idols vanished without a trace just a week ago when they were helping clean up the city after the typhoon hit, they went up to the cabin area in the forest but never returned and the group decided to investigate themselves to find nothing but few of their belongings," The agent explained and I nodded writing them down in my notepad.

"I see, what about the search party? Any news?" I asked and he nodded.

"After several days of searching, we did find their remains... It's quite a grizzly and disturbing sight, to say the least, and it's hard to describe it so it's better if you look at them yourself," He answered.

The rest of the drive was silent as we went into Seoul giving me the chance to look around at the devastation the typhoon had caused and it was surreal than the pictures on the news.

Once we finally made it to the station, I walked through the backdoor leading downstairs to the evidence lab, and I was led into the forensics lab.

One of the experts bowed before leading me into the lab, laying on the operation table were the bodies of Jeon Jungkook and Jennie Kim and my eyes widened as it looked like their souls were sucked out of them.

They were skinny to the bone, there was no blood within them, and they looked almost skeletal making this the most disturbing case I've ever worked in.

"What the hell happened to them...?" I asked shocked at the sight.

"We're not sure, we ran all the tests in the book but found nothing out of the ordinary or pointers of how they died, no wounds, scratches, nothing, just their souls sucked out dry," The expert explained grimly.

~

Meanwhile...

Jisoo's POV

I couldn't sleep well ever since Jennie's disappearance, we always missed her and it didn't help that the police already found her dead body not far from the cabins along with Jungkook.

YG and BigHit sent condolences letters to their families and the funerals were held as soon as the rubbles were cleared from parts of the city.

Their remains were cremated to ashes with Jennie to be sent home to New Zealand in her hometown and Jungkook to the family cemetery.

"O comforting One, compassionate One be with us all when we suffer loss and ache with the pain of grieving. Give us a glimpse of the way it will be when love will never be taken away, when life itself will not be diminished when all that we hold most precious will live and remain with us forever. Amen." The priest said his prayer as the urn of the ashes of Jungkook was slowly lowered into the hole dug before his gravestone.

The funeral was small only consisting of myself, Lisa, and Chaeyoung, along with BTS and Twice who had just returned from their tour, and of course Jungkook's family.

To this day, I still feel guilty as I could've stopped this all from happening, now two idols were lost to the Heavens, and everyone grieved their deaths.

Jin who would always boast about being flirty and ladies man was now all silent, I can tell the loss of what he considered a brother deeply affected him.

"T-Thank you for coming, Jihyo, I didn't think you'd show up," I thanked her and she nodded.

"Hey, this is more important than our idol lives, I knew them both and they were quite exceptional and talented individuals, it's a shame they went out like this," Jihyo replied and I sighed.

"Are you okay?" She asked conerningly.

"No, not really, I could've prevented this from happening, Jennie and Jungkook would still be alive if I hadn't stopped them from going to the woods alone... I'm such an idiot..." I grimly answered and shed a tear as the guilt became too much to bear.

Instead of an angry reaction, as I expected, Jihyo gave me a sympathetic look and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"It's not your fault, my dear, none of us expected anything like this would happen," She assured and I sighed.

"Speaking of which, they never disclosed their cause of death nobody knows what happened to them, they found no wounds or indication of how they died considering they were young and healthy at the time," I mentioned.

"Well, all we can do is leave it to the authorities to handle this, I am confident they will find a trail eventually and we can soon get to the bottom of this and hope Jennie and Jungkook will be the last victims of this mess," She explained and I nodded knowing she was right.

After the funeral was finished, we all left for our vehicles, our driver picked us up and drove us back to the YG building as we needed to discuss some things about our upcoming comeback.

We headed to the top floor of the building where YG's office was located and knocked on the door.

"Come in!" He called out and we opened the door.

"Please have a seat you three, we have urgent matters to discuss," He instructed and we sat down in front of him and he sighed.

"As you all may know, Jennie was found dead, now not only has this heavily saddened the Blinks and fans around the world, but it also hurts our business as our comeback is scheduled to release soon, and without Jennie to finish her lines, we might have to cancel it and start from scratch without her or one of you will have to take her place," He explained.

"Sir, are you going to find a trainee to debut and replace her...?" Chaeyoung asked and he shook his head.

"Not anytime soon, none of the trainees so far have the skills or talent or experience like hers to substitute her absence and this will surely tank the reviews and our income, that is why I'm asking you all what you wish to do at this time," YG explained and we pondered.

As we all discuss among ourselves how we're going to finish this comeback or if will just cancel it entirely, I cannot help but feel like I'm being watched, and when I glanced out the window my eyes widened as I saw... Jennie standing on a platform...

She was unrecognizable, her body was skinny to the bone, her eyes were white and her skin was pale like she was a ghost, and was staring directly at me.

"Jichu...? Are you okay?" Lisa asked waving her hand across my face snapping me out of my trance.

"H-Huh?" I stammered as I regained my senses and when I looked out the window all I saw was the cleaner wiping down the windows.

"Is there a problem, Miss Jisoo?" YG asked.

"N-No, sir, I'm fine... Just tired is all..." I nervously replied and he nodded.

"Alright, how about this? I'll leave you all to rest for the day, and by tomorrow you all can come into my office with your final decision, is that okay with you all?" YG asked and we nodded.

As we are dismissed from leaving the YG entertainment building, we head over to the dormitory to gather our thoughts and hopefully my sanity as I feel nothing but dread.

There is much pressure added to us now that Jennie is gone and Rose and Lisa were thinking about splitting the extra work evenly but that will be difficult as fans will feel disappointed about the comeback without her.

That night, my sleep was anything but peaceful, I woke up in a grassy land, and there in front of me was Jennie wearing a white dress and Jungkook wearing a black tuxedo. They were both warmly smiling as if nothing ever happened.

"K-Kookie? Jen? What are you two doing here?" I nervously asked.

"Hello, Jichu... We are waiting for you..." Jungkook spoke but his voice sounded off.

"We are waiting for you Jichu, join us... And you will be free of guilt..." Jennie spoke up.

Without warning, I woke up panting out of breath, I was covered in sweat trying to figure out what I just dreamt of but I didn't get a chance when I heard strange crackling noises like bones cracking.

I looked around, my stomach dropped seeing what appeared to be Jennie in that same white dress walking disfigured to the front entrance.

"J-Jennie... Is that you?" I softly called out as I got out of bed.

Quickly I got dressed in casual attire grabbed a black mask so nobody knows my identity and followed Jennie out of the dorm quietly without waking up Lisa and Chaeyoung.

I followed Jennie around the city which was strangely quiet and desolated as people are superstitious about walking at night, but I can't help wondering why Jennie was walking so awkwardly like some of her bones are broken or worn.

Eventually, she led me to what appeared to be an abandoned mine long forgotten to time.

"Why the hell is she going to a mine...?" I asked myself as I watched her from the distance in the bushes.

All of a sudden, the entrance of the mineshaft was glowing crimson red yet Jennie continued walking but she stopped right at the entrance and came out of what seemed to be what I describe as the gate to hell.

Coming out of the entrance was Jungkook in that same black tuxedo from my dream but his eyes were anything but normal as it was all white, he reached out his hand and Jennie took it before walking together through the mineshaft entrance.

"Dear Lord you are our shepherd and defender please protect me from all evil..." I prayed as I decided it was time to leave.

I continued repeating the prayer all the way back to the city and I saw some planks on the ground and decided to seal off the entrance to the best of my ability.

After the work was done, I ran the hell out of the forest as fast as I could until I reached the safety of the city and the dorm.

What I witness is just something I cannot explain nor could anyone and I do not want to go near that God forsaken mine ever again.

~

Present

Y/N's POV

And that is the end of the story of what the people and the authorities know... However, what Jisoo said in the interview isn't exactly clear and straight-up bullocks to most.

The military dispatched a company of soldiers to investigate the mine and sealed off the area with electric fences and barbed wire to keep everyone out... Or something in.

I don't know what the military is doing at those mineshafts to this day as the reports are all classified and they want nobody going in there.

Jennie and Jungkook were declared dead after their bodies were found but idols do report seeing them at night or in their dreams similar to Jisoo.

Sadly... Those two would not be the only missing victims...

[fuck-customers]

I had a night tonight!! Don't ever work third shift at a gas station guys!!!

Tonight, a guy came in and wanted cigarettes, he dumped this jar of change on the counter and had me count it out. now, it was almost entirely pennies, and going in I already figured that it was not going to be enough. It was a solid four dollars at best, not anywhere near the ten dollars he needed. But I humored him and started counted it anyway. It took way longer than it usually would have because I had to keep pausing it for other customers because I wasn't going to let them wait there for ten minutes or whatever how long this was going to take. And the guy kept messing me up because he kept moving my piles that I counted around so I had to keep recounting it.

The whole time, the guy is telling me he has to do this because his girlfriend took his wallet. He kept calling her all sorts of swears and insults as he paced around where the till is and I'm trying very hard to ignore him and count his money so he'd fucking leave. He didn't have enough, so I told him this, it was about a little under four dollars. He got really mad and said "give me that in change then" well first of all you clearly already have it. And if he wanted to exchange it for bigger dollars and coins, I was not about to open the till and struggle to put all of this in there with him there because let me tell you there is something wrong with him, he was doing all sorts of Joker smiles and he kept grumbling about what he was going to do to his girlfriend and his parents. I didn't catch a lot of it since I was trying to focus on counting and he was grumbling it. But he did say he would take something out on them, do something to them, "imagine what I'm imagining doing to her" and such.

When I told him he didn't have enough and so he couldn't buy these cigarettes, it went out on me now. He called me all sorts of insults and insinuated what he'd do to his girlfriend he'd do to me. I was shaking, I could barely talk, and there were other customers in line now who were being just a little bit useless and didn't step in or even say anything to me after. I had to go sit somewhere. I didn't know what to do. I knew I had to call someone. So I called my mom, first instinct. I know it should've been the police first.

Luckily, literally a half hour later the officer who's a regular showed up, and she's a woman who worked night shift at a gas station once so when I told her this she got serious, her face darkened a bit, and she lectured me about how I should've called the police (I know I should have). And she had me file a report about it and asked me to tell the manager to send her footage of this guy in the morning.

At least I was taken seriously, but the rest of tonight is going to be very long and I'm going to be anxious. If there's an update, I'll send in an update later.

Posted by admin Rodney.

[theressomethinghappeninginparis]

All I can tell you about the next rooms I've been in is that I'm glad someone, probably Trent, was here before me. He could have cleaned up if you ask me, I haven't eaten enough to throw up, I just rush through the rooms and almost run in hopes of finding a safer place. Everything here is dead, sliced up, shot, or mutilated. I found a first aid box and took some painkilers and gauze bandage in case I accidentally hurt myself on anything here, literally no space in here that looks comforting and safe.

Transcript of the first page: This gummy cell had a dead guy inside, lying in his own blood. He had a number on his back- there were so many people down here, I wonder how no one started missing them? Or was someone looking for their friend, their relative? They had corpses in the morgue, laying on a metal table. It was freezing in there and creepy as fuck. The blood was dried and I didn't dare stepping in further.

Transcript of the second page: Further on I found dead inmate and a soldier(?). Someone want amok in here. Or did someone start an outbreak and thus the police or a private security group was involved? There was also a room with tubes similar to the ones I've seen before. But the things swimming in there were men(?) and I think there were horns(?) on him...ist this one of the nephilim I heard being talked about? Are these poor inamtes stripped of their souls and used as bodies for the nephilim? I wish I knew. Or. Think of it. I'm glad I don't.

Transcript of the third page: I came even deeper into the complex, downstairs, and I found this. I'm not sure what it is, it is hanging above a pit I couldn't look into. It's so deep into the ground I can't believe it's part of the sanitarium in the first place. When I went up a ladder, I saw this open door- I think due to the electricity that someone cut someone or something escaped. Let's hope it's not the Proto? What else could they have been keeping down here?

Transcript of the fourth page: My fake Strahov-pass got me into the files on the pc I found in a lab. I had to shove...the scientist a bit to the left. They talk about inmate number 42 and his medical record. They put him through so much, but why? There are mentions of "Proto cells", if this is the angel of death the inmate talked about? The horns I saw on the bodies of the bodies in the tubes were non-human. Not completely. If this really is the "Proto Nephilim" I pverhearf on the conversation, what would they do with its cells? I have an assumption, but I need more research. I think they want to revive the Nephilim with human beings...yeah what the hell.

Transcript of the fifth, sixth, and seventh page: Here's some papers I got for inmate number 42. I printed these out to take them with me. Does anyone know what is going on here? The man is named Hassan Ahmed Emin, and the doctor writing this is Melinda Everst. He speaks Turkish and needed a translator here. He reports restlessness, stress due to driving at night, fear of darkness, and feelings of loneliness. He has two allergies and then they list hsi current medications. They talk about giving him Proto cells, metallurgy on his hed, a lobotomy, Christ all this is so insane. So Eckhardt's fanclub is taking reandom people no one's missing and trying to revive the Nephilim so he can finally stay immortal? He is a rather skinny man and lost his weight in here. His history also includes seizures and neuropathy; lots of bone problems, and mental illnesses. His reports on his quality of life are high, but his emotional and physical well being is low.

I am continueing my walk through this mess and it's getting colder. I hope I'll come across a living non-hostile person soon, the loneliness is really creeping into me. There's another lab I can go in, but right now I'm resting again, hiding in a cell with a shelf I shoved in front. I really need this- this institute to have an end, I need some sunrays and, at some point, my old life back.

[saanphoenix]

I have a story to tell. The conclusion has not yet happened, but it's some funny shit.

So, Monday night at 8p, I dropped my car off at a person's private shop in the town I used to live in. It was showing symptoms of a cracked head gasket and also--because I checked oil as well--had very little oil in it. I had bought product to address these issues from the AutoZone I had parked behind when my engine started "idling violently", as I would put it, whenever I was stopped at a light. However, I didn't use them because this person had told me to drop it off at his shop so he could check it in the morning.

My car was not there in the morning, at 6:30a. What was there was a 1999 Ford Expedition with the keys still in the ignition. And so the son of the shop owner took pictures of said vehicle, including tags, to send to his father all, "Who dis?" They did not know who dat was. They did, however incorrectly, think that I knew who it was. And that that person had come to collect my car.

Shortly thereafter, the Expedition vanished as well, presumably reacquired by the fucker who stole my car.

"Did you leave the keys--" In the car for the shop owner to be able to use them come morn? Yes. There were other cars on the lot that had keys in them, as well. I guess mine just looked cooler.

We're informed that my car is gone at 1p. We rush to that town's police department and file a report. Yada yada. And because I am able to give the police the fucker's tags, I get to overhear the man's name for whom the Expedition is registered to. I tell everyone I know, as well as give them pictures of his and my vehicle, while the police go to two separate houses the man is associated with and also suspect another guy he knows that runs a "shady car business" in the town over.

Because my car had a potentially fucked head gasket and practically no oil in it--my oil light don't work good, leave me alone--we suspect it DID NOT go far, and drive towards the town of the "shady car business" as well as another town...which my father discovered was where Criminal was trying to sell...the Ford Expedition...he was driving around committing crimes in. Alas, my car was not on the side of the road.

The following day, Wednesday, a former coworker texts me and says he saw the Expedition. Gave me the location where it was driving around--a stone's throw from where the shop they stole mine from is--and gave me a vague physical description of who was driving. White guy with a beard and a woman, both of whom "look pretty rough."

I already know from the cops that Criminal is a meth head. I don't need to wonder why they look rough. And I also don't need to wonder too hard about why they stole my car. The people I know who've been on meth, for some unknown reason to my drug-free ass, loved to steal anything they thought was worth something. And hoard those things. Until they thought the cops couldn't find them. And then they'd sell those things to, shocker, get more meth.

Anyway, having been told where the vehicle was hanging around, I surmise that these fuckers either live very near the shop my car was stolen from, or their drug dealer does, and that my car's chances of still being in that town are very high.

Because these meth heads are really fucking stupid. I may leave my keys in my car for a shopkeep, but I don't leave my vehicle at the scene of the crime I have just committed in broad daylight. And I certainly don't return for that vehicle, which is sitting on private property, and assume that no one has noticed it being there. Or taken pictures of it and its tags.

👍

But I also don't steal cars FROM AN AUTO SHOP, WHERE VEHICLES GO TO GET REPAIRED, AND EXPECT TO MAKE IT VERY FAR IN THEM.

👍👍👍👍

Thursday! At this point, I have a small army of coworkers and our store's vendors BOLO-ing my car with precise instructions to immediately call the police if they see a BRIGHT ORANGE Grand Am GT anywhere. There is exactly one of those in the city it was lost in. (Again, brilliant choice by the thieves.) And I go to a used car lot, and then the bank, to try and purchase a very pretty blue 2018 Hyundai Elantra. I shall have it on Monday.

Thursday night, the shop owner informs us that...Genius Criminal is STILL trying to sell/trade his Ford Expedition. The one that they used while stealing my car. And left at a crime scene for more than an hour. And I have a very sneaking suspicion that the police did, in fact, read the email I sent them showing the Buy, Sell, or Trade ad for said vehicle under the guy's name. Because shop owner didn't know about it. But the police did. And they got with the shop owner to do a sting operation to offer to meet this guy and "trade" him a car...while they follow him. Today. Friday.

So, yeah. That's how my week has gone. Hopefully they find my car and it's in one piece. Regardless, Criminal is about to have a bad time. And alls I can say is: Don't steal from me. If I'd gotten that Elantra yesterday, I would have found that fucker before the cops did. Hell, I went on Google Maps a bit last night for the road the Expedition was seen on to see if I could find it parked in a driveway.

I have a particular set of fucking skills, mate. One of them is hyperfocus, and you have my attention, boy.

[sagesuede]

People talk a lot about how I was stalked by 1 woman in particular who attacked me with a weapon in the hallway at my apartment complex without getting arrested (like there should be laws in this state but the police asked me to do an investigation to find her name for them to hold her at all accountable), but they don't say anything about her boyfriend giving me non-consensual hugs over and over again that day, before she attacked me. I already forgave him much sooner, but she should have attacked him instead or asked him to stop and gotten a new man. If your man is that gay, then that is never my problem. I had a girlfriend the entire time they stalked me & he didn't commit a crime on paper, even though it was non-consensual contact with his shirt off, but she committed a misdemeanor offense without using any brain cells.🙄I wish anyone was smart, but I know that most of these people are suffering from tainted street drugs that had fentanyl without their consent. Now I record everyone that approaches me like that or screams like a crazy person on drugs, in case I have to protect myself.

The real question is why for the love of God does anyone have to identify their attacker by name when they are the victim of an assault and their attacker already self identified with a false police report? It is abundantly clear when there is evidence of the attack and they called the station using their name. No police work needs to be done when they self-identified as the assailant, police just have to actually file the report.

So thanks for understanding that I was sexually harassed by a man and a woman that day, then she committed assault against me when her boyfriend wouldn't back off against my will. It sucks that I had to live next door to them and that the assailant apologized to me afterwards through the floor, saying she wished she had attacked herself. I'm sure they are exploring sobriety so I don't want them to feel bad but there are billboards all over town about fentanyl deaths and they deserved the misdemeanor.

A $200 fine would have done nothing but I should have never been attacked at all.

[lmanberg]

I do think he did a pretty good job disproving amanda, which is not that hard since she didn't have a lot of proof anyway.. the whole police thing is something too idk

He removed messages from the Snapchat receipts and someone else called that police station and they told them that they’re not allowed to give any info about a police report to anyone except the person who filed it so they wouldn’t have told Dream anything that he showed “them” saying in the video

[randomdancingwhore]

The Female of the Species - JJ Maybank x Bimbo! Reader

Summary: Peterkin and Shoupe have to deal with a couple of frequent fliers, namely JJ and Y/N.

Request: “Can you please do JJ Maybank x bimbo reader” (Anonymous)

Warnings: Kissing. Reader is an airhead. No beta read.

JJ's plan was simple, in and out. All he had to do was distract the store clerk, pocket the goods, and walk away.

But nothing was ever that simple.

A customer had seen what was going on and didn't hesitate to tell someone. That's how he ended up here, across from Sheriff Peterkin in one of the small questioning rooms of the Kildare County police station.

"Now, why don't you explain to me what happened here, Maybank?" The Sheriff said as she leaned on the table.

"I was in the store, and it just so happened to fall in my pocket" JJ shrugged coolly.

"Really? You were just randomly in a women's jewellery store, and those earrings magically fell inside your pocket?"

"I wouldn't say 'magically,' but the rest sounds about right," he says. "We done here, sheriff?"

"You're telling me this has nothing to do with that little girlfriend of yours? the L/N girl?"

"You think she put me up to this?"

"No, I don't think 'Thing 2' would even know how. What I think happened is that you wanted to give your little lady something special, a pretty pair of earrings maybe."

"Nah, that's not what happened" That's precisely what happened.

"Is that so?" Peterkin quirked a brow.

The young couple had a fight two days ago and hadn't spoken since.

Feeling bad about it and wanting to do something to show how sorry he was, JJ remembered a pair of earrings that Y/N had wanted ever since she saw some kook wearing them.

The problem was that those earrings would take months to save up for, and he couldn't wait that long to get her back.

...................

In another questioning room sat Shoupe, staring at a teenaged girl wearing a grandma wig and round glasses.

"What am I looking at here, Y/N?" He asked her.

"Me, duh," she said matter-of-factly.

Shoupe let out a sigh. Every time Y/N or her boyfriend stepped into the station, which was often, the cops drew straws on who had to deal with them, and this time, Shoupe and Peterkin came up short.

"Okay, let's take a look at this report" He opened a file. "It says here that 'a female, minor dressed like an elderly woman walked into a surf shop and attempted to hide an entire surfboard under her large granny dress'. Is that what happened?"

The girls' plan had been simple; walk into the shop dressed like Madea so she would have enough room under her dress to hide the board.

But of course, some nosy workers had to run their mouths.

"I'm like not admitting to anything," she said, checking her nails.

"That Maybank kid put you up to it?"

"Of course not, JJ is totes innocent."

"I wouldn't go that far. You wanna go to jail, Y/N?"

"Ew, no"

"Then just tell me why your boyfriend wanted you to steal the board, 'cus I know damn well you didn't come up with this on your own"

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"That JJ Maybank is trouble and you're not exactly the brains of the operation."

Y/N wasn't really offended with that last part the officer's statement. After all, she didn't actually come up with the plan. She got the idea from a cartoon she had been watching.

JJ was always the smart one between them, and according to her, he always had the best plans.

And yes, you read that right; JJ was the smart one in the relationship.

"You know what? I like want my lawyer, rn."Y/N huffed

...............

The police had to let the teens go since they both never actually left the stores with anything.

JJ was just about to step out of the station when Y/N called out to him.

"Baby!" She yelled, walking over.

He turned around; a look of confusion crossed his face when he noticed her get-up. Y/N saw this and concluded he didn't recognize her because of the disguise

She took off the wig "Omg, don't worry, it's just me."

JJ was positively beaming to see her. As always, she was her authentically silly self. "What are you doing here, babe?" He pulled her into a bear hug.

"The cops like tried to arrest me for stealing a surfboard or whatever. You know that one you said you like really wanted," she stated

His heart warmed. He wanted to articulate exactly how Y/N made him feel, how he loved being around her, how she made him feel like he mattered and how much he hated being at odds with her, but instead, all he could say was,

"You're so fucking hot," obviously not caring that she was dressed like their English teacher.

He didn't stop himself from bringing his lips down on hers and beginning a very intense make-out session in front of everyone.

This went on for a whole two minutes before Peterkin got rid of them.

"If those two aren't the same species of idiot…" she told Shoupe as they watched the teenagers leave.

"L/N's about ten times worse," he challenged

"You know what they say about us girls; we always do it better."

[darlingkelsie]

Part 1 Act 1 of Piggy x Reader Story: Prologue

WARNING: Violence, Gore, Possible Cussing, Mention of Substance Abuse, Death, ect.

Authors note: Y/n- Your Name, L/n- Your Last Name, H/c- Your Hair Colour,

I do not own any of these characters, they are all from a video game on Roblox called, "Piggy"

I also tried to keep it as gender-neutral as possible but at times I think I resorted to she/her pronouns.

Hope you enjoy part one!

____________________________________________

It was a normal day in the North Police Station. It was busy like always. Work from different cases began flooding in from all over town. Officers running pass one another trying to get to a report or just their office. The only one who wasn't running was the Chief, Parker Polar. He was strutting over to detective, Y/n L/n's office with a pep in his step.

Once he got to the young detectives office, he politely knocked before opening the door.

"You got a new cas-" Before he could finished he was interrupted by a snore. The cause of the snore was a sleeping Y/n resting her head on a bunch of papers scrambled all over her desk.

"..... Y/N!" He shouted with an anger tone. Startling the sleeping h/c, causing her to jump out of the chair, standing with a salute.

"Sir!" Y/n exclaimed, awkwardly trying to fix her desk. "Wh.. uh.. What can I do for you?"

"You got a new case, a messing person." Polar said handing her the file.

"Who's gone missing?" Y/n asked flipping through the file.

"Gregory Porker, a 6 year old boy."

"What's so important about this case that it was brought to me?" she blurted out meaning to keep it in her mind.

Polar looked at her with a displeased look.

"If you don't want it then I'll give it to someone else." He said leaning to grab the file.

"No! I-uh.. Didn't mean it like that! I just was confused about you giving me the case, was he kidnapped or something?" Y/n scratched her head.

Polar was silent for a moment, hesitant about what he was going to say next.

"Possibly.... This case is an odd one."

"How odd?"

"His teacher called it in, saying he was supposed to meet her for torturing, which she says he never messes. She said the last time she saw him he was being picked up by his Mother, Peggy Porker, he was supposed to met with her the next day. We tried calling the family. Asking them to come in to talk, just to make sure the kid is okay... but they haven't responded. It's giving me a bad feeling. Which is why I want you to go over to their house to see if anything is happening. Can you do that?"

"Yeah I can do that!" Y/n exclaimed searching for the keys on the mess of a desk.

"Report if anything happens." Polar states while standing up.

"Gotcha!" She replies finally finding her keys. With her keys in hand she runs pass the chief to the door of her office.

"and Y/n?" Polar glances over his shoulder with a cold glare. Causing Y/n to stop and look at him.

"Yeah?"

"Don't ever sleep on the job again."

His dark tone caused a shiver to run down her spine. Brushing off her chills, she runs out of her office, shoving pass the other officers trying her best to exit. Accidentally pushing someone over ever so often.

"Y/n!" Someone behind her yells, grabbing her arm. She turns around to see her best friend and coworker, Danny Shepard. He helped her with some big cases a few years back. Though, they didn't see eye to eye with if the person deserved their punishment. Luckily, they pushed past that.

"Oh, Hey Danny!"

"What's the rush? You got a good case?"

"Yeah a good one, do you? Maybe you can help me!"

"Aww man, I already have one. Another one of those weird break ins. Y'know the ones where its a break in, but nothing is stolen?"

"Oh yeah, those ones! Sweet, they are really odd. But I gotta go can't let this one be to long, it's a missing boy."

"Oh, that's sad.. well um okay, bye!" And with that Danny was off with a skip in his step like always.

Y/n ran out to elevator to go to the parking lot. Once she arrived to the parking lot she looked for her police car. After identifying her car she hopped in and started the engine.

And with a press to the accelerator Y/n was off to the Porker's home.

____________________________________________

[r0-boat]

Hi this is my first time requesting for this blog but I really love all the stuff that people including yourself write. I wanted to request a fluff piece about the reader getting transported to the pokemon universe and all the people and pokemon becoming a found family with the reader. I'll only request that Nanu is apart of it since I don't see a lot of stuff for him but anyone else is up to you. If not thanks for brightening my day anyway.

Oh God, this got so long I'm sorry your Faller!mc idea just fascinates me!

I saw this as a slow burn story but I sped it up

An ultra Wormhole tore open the sky but this time instead of an ultra Beast a human fell from the wormhole and onto the warm alolan sand.

Nanu just so happened to be "patrolling" the area with a shopping bag full of Pokemon cat food when he sees a person in the sand his officer training takes in and he dropped his bag to see if you were still breathing

You are carried back to the police station and while you were laying on the couch as Nanu scours police files, for something pertaining to you maybe family members or id showing that you are a citizen of a region...

..Nothing...

Now nanu is aware of the faller phenomenon he has been told by Looker to keep an eye out and report to him if anything happens...

as Nana was on the phone. His meowth and Persian but at this point gathered around you sniffing and pawing at you.

You move in your sleep eyes slowly opening... the first thing that you see is a Meowth staring directly at you. You quickly jump awake scaring the Pokemon away from you.

Nanu notices you're awake and walks over to you " I saw you were in the sand, that was a pretty nasty fall are you okay?" You, Looker, confused still staring at the meowth inching away as it comes closer. " what you saw a Pokemon before?"

"A-a what?"

....

According to Looker and prof. Burnet, you were a faller but different than the rest they have seen. Other faller knew what Pokemon were. You didn't. You looked at these creatures as if they were alien to you because they were.

Prof. Burnet hypothesizes that you came from a world that probably didn't have Pokemon. That hypothesis was correct when they took a DNA sample with you

Everything in your genes looked human except for one DNA strand that set you different from everybody else...

" w-will I ever go home?"

You asked Burnet your eyes welling with tears.

... " unfortunately we have never found a way to bring back our previous fallers from their original dimensions."

That broke you.

Looker took you out of the room to comfort you.

Leaving Burnett and Nanu alone

" officer Nanu this is a large request but..."

"I'll do it"

"This - wait what seriously?!"

" they're not a kid I'm only here to give them shelter and a safe place to sleep."

....

It's been a while since you've been living with officer Nanu, his niece comes around every now and then to listen to memories of your old life( fuzzy but some parts you still recall)

Occasionally you help nanu with housework and chores.

You are still terrified of Pokemon occasionally you would get little glimpses of what Pokémon could really do on TV...

You are still obligated for a weekly to monthly check up with Professor burnet. Not only to see how you're doing but but also study this new world with no Pokemon.

To help with your Pokemon phobia kakui gave you a job at the Pokemon School.

The students loved you Pokemon was apparent but they were eager to help. The teachers would smile at recess watching the children gather around as you answer their questions like "how would your world would be able to live without Pokemon?"

You don't know why you feel this way started to feel more comforting to you than fear and confusion.

All the

suddenly this felt familiar to you, listening to the lessons and watching documentaries about how these creatures interact with their environment made you remember long car loads as a kid staring down at a screen.... Or sitting down and watching Saturday cartoons.

That moment acerola will never forget when you took her to the beach and saw you gently booped a pyukumuku.

the children put together a "graduation" where you pick your first Pokemon.

Kakui put three pokeballs on the table.

" now I brought these Pokemon here from another region, hoping to study them but I think you deserve one... you're always such a great and diligent worker and not only that to eager to learn somebody who has never seen the Pokemon before."

He pressed the button on each ball opening the capsules

Revealing to you your choices

A green cat, a red reptile, and a Blue Duck

" I think these Pokemon are perfect for you, they are new to you as you are to them. Their names are-"

Something unlocks within your brain your body moves on its own

" Sprigatito Fuecoco and Quaxly..."

[the-bau-quinjet]

Secret's Out

Summary: Request! Reid and Y/N are secretly dating, but their business doesn't stay their business for long.

Warnings: Criminal Minds level violence

Word Count: 2974

a/n: Thank you for the request! I hope you like it :)

Sorry this took forever! It took me a while to think of case details that I liked and then I kept rewriting parts. I think I'm finally happy with it though!

Masterlist

"Spencer!" You pushed him away. "The doors could open at any moment! How are we supposed to keep this a secret if Morgan walks in on us kissing in the elevator?" You raised a brow at him.

"On average, elevators travel at a speed of 200 ft/min or about 4 seconds per floor. Being on the fifth floor means we have about 20 seconds to ourselves." He smiled triumphantly.

"Yeah, until someone surprises us on floor 3." You rolled your eyes, stepping out of the doors once they opened.

"I can't help it. I'm just... really happy with you." He whispered softly.

"I'm really happy too." You smiled at him. You were about to lean in when the elevator doors opened once again to reveal JJ and Emily.

"Hey guys, ready for another case?" Emily glanced between you suspiciously, but thankfully didn't ask any prying questions.

"Yep, let's go!" You turned quickly, walking into the round table room without so much as a glance back at the three agents by the elevator.

"What's with her?" JJ questioned.

"Said she didn't sleep well last night. Must be all the caffeine." He held his own cup off coffee up in solidarity before also walking to the round table room.

"Alright, we've got 3 dead in Billings, Montana. All three were law enforcement, and all three were found this morning around the city." You listened as Penelope introduced the details of the case.

"Could be someone who feels the police didn't do a good enough job protecting a loved one?" You threw out a theory.

"Or someone who feels wronged by the criminal justice system as a whole." Rossi added on.

"Either way, they likely won't stop until we catch them. Wheels up in 20." Hotch rose from his seat as he spoke, wasting no time in preparing for take off.

You all dispersed briefly to grab your go bags, meeting back at the SUVs to head to the jet.

Once boarded, it didn't take long for the conversation to start up again.

"When we land, L/N go to the morgue. Dave, Prentiss take the first and second crime scenes, they're only a mile apart. Morgan and Reid, check out the third scene. I'll head to the precinct with JJ."

With Hotch's instructions set, you took what little time you had left on the flight to go over the causes of death.

-

"Anything stand out to you on the bodies?" You asked the ME after going over the blunt force trauma and bullet wounds.

"There's tape residue and bruising on the wrists and ankles. Based on the state of bruising, they were likely held for about 3 days before they were killed."

"Thank you for your help." You shook hands, pulling out your phone to call Hotch.

"Hotchner."

"Hotch, they were held for days before they were killed. How did nobody notice they were missing?" There was nothing in the reports that indicated the victims were reported missing prior to being found.

"We just found the same pattern. They all used vacation days for various reasons in the days leading up to their deaths. Meet us back at the precinct and Reid can explain the whole pattern."

"Okay, I'm leaving now." You hung up just as you reached the SUV. Throughout the drive, you couldn't stop thinking that something wasn't adding up.

The victims were taken in the same day. It didn't make sense for the unsub not to escalate. So, why aren't any officers unaccounted for?

Suddenly, a truck crashed into your SUV, sending you flying off the road. A figure dressed in black opened the door and dragged you from the car.

"Agent L/N, it's so good to see you again." A male voice spoke, but you couldn't place it.

He hit you over the head with a handgun before dragging you to his own vehicle.

-

"Where's L/N?" Emily questioned when her and Rossi returned from the second dumpsite.

"On her way back from the ME." Hotch answered. "Did you find anything useful?"

"They truly are dumpsites. Both bodies were found by dumpsters, sending a pretty clear message." Dave replied.

"Same for the third site." Derek added on.

"All three victims were single and took time off leading up to their death. Nobody would've notice that they were missing until it was too late." Reid supplied the final bit of information gathered.

Hotch's phone rang before anyone else could comment. The frantic sound of Garcia's nails clicking against her keyboard echoed through the phone. She was talking before anyone could greet her.

"You need to see this, check your tablets."

Confused glances were exchanged as everyone, barring Reid, opened their tablets. Reid glanced over Morgan's shoulder to observe as well.

A seemingly live video that Garcia received a link to was streaming to the tablets.

A single woman sitting in a chair could be seen in the frame. Her wrists and ankles were bound to the chair with thick, gray tape and a bag was over her head.

"Garcia, what is this?" Hotch asked almost immediately.

"I was emailed the link just now. It's not streaming anywhere else online." Her reply came quickly, the sound of typing still filling in the silence.

"Can you trace it?" Rossi questioned.

"I'm trying, but it's being routed through multiple proxy servers."

"Did the email say anything?" Emily chimed in.

"No, it was just the link- Wait. I just got another email." She paused as the new email loaded. "It's addressed to Reid."

Every set of eyes in the room turned to Reid.

"What does it say?" He felt the nerves beginning to grow waiting for Garcia to read the words aloud.

"Dr. Reid,

I hope you remember me. What am I saying, of course you do. I've got something of yours that you might want back. You see Dr. Reid, you and your team ruined me. My family, my career, all of it, just gone. I thought I'd return the favor. A person's phone can be so informative. Tell me, does your team know about your girlfriend? I've so enjoyed getting reacquainted with her.

Happy hunting."

Spencer's face went white as he looked at Morgan's tablet again. His thoughts were racing. How did he not recognize you before? Even with the bag over your head, he should've known it was you.

"It's her." His words were barely a whisper.

"This is your girlfriend?" Morgan gestured to the screen again. Spencer could only nod in reply, his mind unable to focus on anything except you.

"Reid, listen to me. You've got to tell us everything you know about her. We'll have to split up. You can go back to Quantico with Emily and Morgan, the rest of us will stay here to work on our current case." Hotch was already devising a strategy to work both cases.

"There's no need." His words made sense to him, but sounded cryptic to the rest of the team.

"Kid, of course there is. We'll help you get her back." Morgan placed a hand on his shoulder, effectively shocking him back to the present situation.

"There's no need to split up because she's here. She's in Montana." Before he could continue, everyone was asking questions.

"Give me a phone number and I'll get you a location." Garcia was already typing away again.

"Are you sure she's here?" JJ's brows furrowed. She did her best to hide the hurt of her best friend hiding his girlfriend from her, again.

"Why would she be here?" Rossi added.

"How did she get here? Maybe we can track the transportation and figure out means of abduction." Emily was the only one thinking about the case.

Like ripping off a bandaid, Spencer blurted out the truth.

"It's Y/N."

He was met with silence in the room as everyone absorbed the information.

Garcia caught up first, a sudden gasp sounding through the phone.

"So, then that's Y/N... in the video..." Her voice wavered.

As if a switch was flipped, the team was back on the case.

"Garcia, get me a list of anyone who would have a grievance with the team." Hotch ordered.

"Go through anyone who was falsely accused. Start with cases in or around Montana. He would want to keep this close to home." Rossi specified.

"We've only had one case in Montana since Y/N joined the team." Reid supplied the knowledge as it came to him. "A name, I need a name." He muttered to himself, pulling his hair as he roughly ran his hands through it and over his face. "Garcia, look into Jameson Braddock."

"Got it." She immediately began a background check, searching through case files and news articles for additional information. "i'll get back to you with locations." With that, she hung up.

"Fill us in, kid. Who is Jameson Braddock." Morgan lead Reid to a chair, gently easing him into it.

"Our last case in Montana, Emily and I went to interview a witness." Emily nodded, the memories slowly coming back to her.

"He wasn't very forthcoming, and then he tried to run." She added on.

"Exactly, except he didn't make it very fair. We arrested him, but it turned out he was only guilty of selling alcohol to minors. When word of his arrest got out, the whole town thought it was for the serial rapes and murders we were investigating even though it was never confirmed."

"By the time we corrected the media, it was too late." JJ supplied, also remembering the man.

"So, he killed three officers just to draw us out back out here?" Morgan refocused the conversation on the current case.

"It looks that way now. The media knew we were coming, so he must have as well." Emily theororized. "If he followed us from the airport, he would've seen Y/N leave by herself."

"He likely didn't know about your relationship until he abducted her and went through her phone." Hotch paced the room.

"He's flaunting his power over us." Rossi chimed in just as Hotch's phone rang again.

"Garcia, what've you got?"

"Three addresses in Billings, Montana. Jameson Braddock has been on a downward spiral since your last trip there. His entire life fell apart, like he said. Divorced, his wife moved to Nebraska with their two kids. He lost his job at the high school, and was evicted from his house when he could no longer pay the bills." She listed the information quickly.

"He has ties to three addresses. Nobody has moved into his previous house, so it's vacant. He's got a small apartment in the northern part of the city which he pays for through working odd hours at Taco Bell. Finally, he briefly worked security at a now abandoned warehouse."

"An apartment wouldn't be enough space to hold her without the chance of someone hearing. She's not there." Rossi eliminated the location as an option.

"We'll split up to cover the warehouse and the house-" Hotch began, but Reid cut him off.

"No, we shouldn't split up. She's got to be at the house. The warehouse has no connection to his previous life. He wants revenge for our perceived wrongdoing, he wouldn't make his last stand at a new location." Reid was already putting on a bullet proof vest. Despite how his mind was racing, he refused to show how afraid he was.

"You're sure?" Morgan asked, on the fence about committing to one location.

"Absolutely." With that, Reid was out the door heading for the SUVs.

-

"Rossi, Emily head around back. I'll take the front with Reid. JJ and Morgan, the side door." Hotch instructed the team to split up upon arrival at the house.

Reid wasted no time in approaching the house. He was confident you were inside, but he didn't know what was happening to you.

The main floor was cleared quickly. Again, the team split up to cover the upper level and the basement.

Knowing you were likely downstairs, Reid immediately started that direction, JJ and Hotch following him.

It wasn't hard for him to find you. You were still tied to the chair in the middle of the room, bag over your head.

Before anyone could stop him, Reid lowered his gun and ran to you. He gently maneuvered the bag off your head, stopping his movements only when he felt something press into his back.

"Dr. Reid. So kind of you to join us." Braddock spoke maniacally, pressing the gun against Reid's head.

"Drop your weapon." Hotch commanded, but the man only cackled in response.

'Y/N... Y/N." Reid gently shook you in an attempt to wake you up.

"She can't hear you." Braddock singsonged.

"What did you do?" Reid tried to turn to him only to feel the gun press further into his head.

"Like I said in my email, you people ruined my life. They took everything from me, so I thought I'd try to return the favor." During his short speech, Braddock shifted just enough for JJ to get a clean shot.

He fell to the ground, gun clattering across the floor.

Reid moved quickly to remove the tape binding you to the chair while Hotch called for a medic in the basement.

The entire team watched as you were wheeled into the ambulance, still unconscious, none more scared than Spencer.

-

"She's going to be fine, Spence." JJ tried to reassure him, nonetheless his pacing continued.

"You don't know that. We don't even know what he did to her." He had one hand anxiously running through his hair, the other pinching the bridge of his nose in distress.

Just then, a doctor emerged from behind closed doors.

"F/N L/N." She called into the waiting room, slightly taken aback when the group of agents rushed to her.

"It was touch and go for a while, but she got here just in time." It was visible to even the least qualified profiler how relieved the team felt. Their previously tense shoulders relaxed, frowns turned to small smiles, wide eyes and raised brows pinched together with joy.

"What happened?" Emily posed the question everyone was thinking.

"In short, she was drugged. It's not clear what exactly was used, but it was likely a mix of drugs that attempted to stop her heart."

"Can we see her?" Morgan spoke next, cautiously eyeing Reid.

"You may, follow me." The doctor lead them through a series of hallways to your room. "She should be waking up soon."

With that the doctor left, allowing the team to file into the room. You looked strangely peaceful for someone who almost died.

"So..." JJ glanced between you and Spencer. "Girlfriend, huh?"

His eyes went wide. Instinctively, he turned to you for help, but you were still asleep. He opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out.

"Relax, kid." Morgan grinned. "We're happy as long as you two are happy."

Spencer smiled gratefully, looking at you with an adoring gaze. "We are happy."

"How long?' Emily gestured to your joined hands. Just before Spencer could answer, you groaned.

"I want to hear your guesses first." Your voice was raspy, but there was a clear smile on your face. "Also, what happened?"

The quickly explained the email Garcia received and the events that followed.

"Now that that's cleared up, do tell us how long you think we've been together. I know you've got a bet going." You narrowed your eyes, playfully glaring at each team member.

"4 months." Hotch begrudgingly admitted. JJ followed with 3 months, Derek and Rossi both betting 10 weeks, and Emily going with 6 weeks.

"Ha, you're all wrong." You smiled triumphantly, leaning closer to Spencer.

"Wait, we haven't heard from Garcia." Derek smirked as he rung her on speaker phone.

"Oh, my beautiful crime fighters. Y/N, are you okay?" Your smile widened at the concern in her voice.

"I am indeed, but I have a very important question for you." You glanced as Spencer briefly before continuing. "How long do you think Spence and I have been together?"

"Oh, I know this one!" Her excitement caught everyone but you off guard. "7 months, 2 weeks, and 3 days."

Spencer's jaw dropped as he stuttered out, "that's exactly right..."

"How'd you figure it out?" The group of profilers wore matching expressions of surprise as Penelope explained.

"Well, we had just finished testifying in the Bigelow trial. The whole team went out for drinks, and I could just see it in Y/N's eyes the next day that something wonderful happened. At first I just thought that she got some, but then I saw her and the good doctor in the kitchen getting coffee and I knew." Penelope's voice held a mixture of smugness and pure excitement.

"Babygirl, you didn't tell me?" Derek sounded genuinely offended.

"Y/N asked me not to." Even though you couldn't see her, you knew she punctuated the statement with a shrug.

"You knew, she knew?" Spencer turned to you in shock.

You nodded. "I could see it on her face the second I walked out of the kitchen. But she promised not to tell, so I didn't either."

"The two of you, thick as thieves." Rossi lamented.

"I love you so much." Spencer whispered into your ear as he pulled you in for a hug.

"I love you too." You whispered right back.

"Honestly, I'm glad the secret's out." You smiled at Spencer before looking at the rest of the team. "Although, I wish I didn't have to be kidnapped to tell you."

You spent a few more hours in the hospital before being cleared to go back to the hotel.

The next morning, you smiled to yourself as you were finally able to cuddle with Spencer during the flight home.

Permanent taglist:

@averyhotchner

@jesuswasnotawhiteman

@strawberryspence

@sebastnstn

Criminal Minds taglist:

@mac99martin

@goldeng1rl8

@measure-in-pain

[sardonic-the-writer]

Y!Quackity x Detective!Reader

━"Murder By Midnoon"

━Quackity

━Tw: A dead body, blood, trash (I dunno, some people have a phobia of trash), and hints of yandere behavior

━Notes: I do not condone murder. Unless they really deserved it. 🔫😃 (Ex. Being homophobic and/or sexist. Then I'm going to need a list of names buddy.)

━Song: "Lone Digger" By Caravan Palace

The sun glared down on downtown New York. Pedestrians were scattered around the edge of the road, all wearing a sparse amount of clothing to keep cool. Smoke and exhaust gas filled the air from cars that happened to be stuck in afternoon traffic. 

However, one car had leeway, shifting in and out of the various vehicles at the fastest speed they could.

The driver- a twenty year old woman -grit her teeth angrily as she found her way through New York's traffic.

Just under minutes ago she had received a call that interrupted her lovely lunch break in a cozy Café. There had been a body found on the corner of fourth street and she had been the closest official in the area.

"Damn psychopaths. I was just trying to eat my lunch for once…" She seethed, beyond pissed at the unknown murderer. Couldn't a girl catch a break nowadays.

Sighing in defeat, (Y/n) decided to review the few details about the victim that she had been given before arriving on scene.

Reaching for her phone, she balanced driving and reading at the same time.

Case 286b

Case subject: Murder 

Victim profile: Adult male, 5'7 with blond hair. Found wearing a green hoodie and black jeans

Need for report: Injuries all over his body; clearly been beaten to death. Dumped on private property 

Suspects: Four

It surprised (Y/n) how much information that the team had been able to require so quickly. Normally it took a couple of days for them to catch a suspect, much less four. This body must be pretty recent.

After one more quick scan of the digital file, she watched out her windshield as her car approached the area where the supposed body was spotted.

(Y/n) put her car in park by a thin line of yellow police tape that was fluttering in the slight breeze. Straightening out any wrinkles in her outfit before continuing, she stepped out of the car to walk over.

"Ma'am!" Immediately she was found by a police officer. "Are you the detective they sent over?"

(Y/n) looked at the tall man that had approached her without interest. The only thing she thought worth noting was that his badge held the name 'Soot'

"Yes, that's me." She sighed. "Where's the body sir?"

"Over here. Just follow me" He spun on his heel to lead the woman over to a small area hidden from the public eye.

In that area was a generic, rusty looking dumpster out behind an abandoned construction site. (Y/n) immediately noticed a thick trail of blood leading to the large blue trash can. What was this, Scooby-Doo? Either she's stuck in a fucking Nancy Drew book, or this killer really wanted to be found.

She tentatively approached it. From the outside you could see a single floppy limb hanging out of the dumpster.

Yep. They definitely wanted to be caught. No one's that dumb when hiding a body.

"Has anyone taken pictures yet?" She said suddenly, eliciting a shake of the head from Officer Soot.

"Get someone on it. This looks like a recent kill. We can't afford to miss anything."

The policeman nodded his head and jogged off, shouting for a camera in the process.

Now that she was finally alone, (Y/n) could really work her magic.

Bending down to peer into the dumpster, her nose was promptly met with a waft of garbage. It didn't help that there was blood mingled in there either, giving it the smell of month old gym socks.

Her (e/c) eyes meticulously scanned over the now dead male. He fit the description from the file; a mop of blond hair with a green sweatshirt. He had fairly decent looks too.

If he wasn't dead, she might have hit on him.

Nonetheless, (Y/n) reached into one of her many coat pockets. From there, she pulled out a plain set of latex gloves. Only after slapping the appliances on did she allow herself to stuff her hands into the squishy dumpster.

(Y/n) proded at the trash, trying to find a clue that could be of use to the forensics team. But nothing caught her eye. It was just the regular slum of garbage: empty pizza boxes and beer bottles galore. 

Just as she contemplated giving up, a shiny object glinted from one of the corners. It grabbed her attention, successfully getting the sleuth to look at it.

It was a finely polished ring. A scattering of expensive jewels rimmed the thick metal center, displaying a circle with a melted and illegible logo on it.

(Y/n) gingerly picked it up with a smug smile on her face. There was no way in hell that somebody had thrown this away. Clearly it had come from the killer.

"Bingo." She whispered slowly.

---

"What the fuck just came out of your mouth Fundy."

A loud slam sounded through the tense atmosphere. You could practically cut into the thick tension with a dull steak knife.

"S-sorry ma'am, but the lab can't find it."

A growl rang through a very messy looking office. The figure that sat behind a wooden desk was clutching her head in anger.

"It has been fourteen days. Fourteen bloody days" (Y/n) hissed. "And now you tell me forensics has lost the only fucking lead we have?!"

"Like I said, the ring just seemed to disappear out of thin air m-miss. It was like it never even existed."

Finally looking up from the torrade of papers on her desk, (Y/n) softened in the slightest bit. The man in front of her was trembling slightly, frightened by her fierce tone.

"Sorry Fundy. It's just been a couple of sleepless days for me." She apologized tiredly. It was true. For the last couple of weeks, the detective hadn't been able to get her mind off the case. It plagued her all day, and especially in the dead of night when she had nothing else to do.

It was like the killer was silently taunting her. As if they were hiding in plain sight, laughing at her misery. It was driving the girl crazy.

There was just a certain feeling about this case that she couldn't put her finger on.

"Why don't you go home Fundy. It's been a long day, and I know your fiance is practically minutes away from labor." (Y/n) didn't look at her co-worker as she subtly gave him an early leave.

Even still, she could hear the gratitude in the once scared man's voice as he thanked her quietly for the leave.

"Tell the missus I loved her pie yesterday, and good luck with the baby!" She yelled as Fundy walked out her door. He smiled and called back that he would before disappearing out of sight.

Now (Y/n) was free to let out a loud groan.

"Fucking hell."

(Y/n) rubbed her temples with deep annoyance. Wishing she had a bottle (or two) of asprin, the woman stood up to stretch.

"Damn. I'm turning into an old lady." She sighed after hearing three consecutive pops in her spine.

After a few more minutes of mindlessly standing in the middle of her office and staring at a wall, her door swung open again.

"Good news Ms.(L/n)! We've found all the Suspects!"

---

One more interview and you can go home (Y/n)

Just one more

C'mon. Don't be a fucking pussy. You can eat all the chocolate you want later if you get this last one done

The ticking of a clock resonated through the interrogation room (Y/n) was sitting in. It read 9:25 pm, but because of its delayed speedster, she knew that the time was really 10:19.

It had been three hours since a member of her team had broken the news to her that they had rounded up all the suspects. Supposedly, they were all in question because they each had been within 200 feet of the body after it was found. A reasonable enough attempt, but it was still a stretch.

The first one (Y/n) interviewed had been a sassy girl. After some digging in the computer systems and taking a statement or two, she had found out that the minor was the victim's sister. The teen didn't seem too upset at the untimely passing of her brother (who they now knew was named Clay), but besides that there was nothing too incriminating about her. 

Next was a former prison inmate that had shared a room with Clay. That had instantly made (Y/n) perk up with hope of a lead, but after a lengthy conversation with the- erm- charming man, the sleuth was confident in saying that he had not done it. After all, having a name like Sapnap was crime enough. No murder needed.

By the third interrogation, she had almost lost all hope. The strange man couldn't even remember being in the area at the time of murder. And what was with these abnormal names? Drista? Sapnap? Fucking hell, even Ranboo! 

But after reading through the journal he had been holding tightly the entire time (with permission of course) nothing showed up. To be blunt, (Y/n) was just as pissed as when she had found out that her pudding cups had been stolen from the break room cupboards.

Sighing for the sixth time in the last half hour, (Y/n) made a vague gesture to the one way mirror resting on the wall opposite her.

"Send the last one in boys. I'm ready to go home."

Seconds later, the click of a lock could be heard. (Y/n) barely glanced up as another presence opened the room.

"Name?" She clicked the end of her pen and lowered it to a fresh piece of paper.

"Quackity Nevadas." A silky voice rang out. (Y/n) didn't look up once, even if the smooth tone of their voice made her want to.

"Age?"

"Twenty."

"Any past arrests?"

"Arnt you supposed to know that already sweetheart." The same voice replied back slyly.

Normally (Y/n) would have brushed off that comment, but she was currently running on two hours of sleep and no caffeine. That in itself was a ticking time bomb.

But it was the sweetheart part that really pissed her off.

(Y/n) looked up to smack some sense into him, but the words died in her throat as he looked at her suspect for the first time.

He certainly didn't look like a murderer, but that could just  be wishful thinking. 

Some raven locks poked messily out from underneath a navy blue beanie that sat atop his head. He had a gruesome looking scar that traveled down the left side of his face, but that did nothing to corrupt his looks. In fact, (Y/n) thought it enhanced them an unfair amount.

Heavy eyelashes framed his tan skin with a sort of elegant look. (Y/n)'s eyes traveled down to his muscular arms before quickly snapping back up to his face. 

God, she hoped she didn't look as weak as she felt right now.

But with cool blue eyes and a taunting smirk staring right back at her, it took (Y/n) a couple of seconds to collect her thoughts.

"See something you like hermosa?" Quackity rested his hands behind his head and leaned back in the chair calmly. The corners of his mouth were pulled up in what seemed to be a victorious grin.

(Y/n) felt her face flush with heat as she translated the spanish.

Way to go (Y/n). Just because you haven't been laid in months, doesn't mean you fall to the feet of any man that walks through your door.

"No. Now answer the question Mr. Nevadas." She responded. Her clear moment of hesitation however had given her away.

Quackity seemed to notice the strain in her tone. His blue eyes shone with a sort of cocky gleam.

"Nope. No prior arrests. I've seen plenty of 'em though." He flashed a toothy smile her way after stating his part. (Y/n) cooked a curious brow, trying to ignore the part of the brain that was bombarded with thoughts about his gold tooth.

Isn't it illegal to be this attractive? I mean, I would know, working with the law and all...

"How so?" She cleared her throat carefully.

"Comes with the territory of owning a casino on the west side I guess." Quackity shrugged. (Y/n)'s eyes widened a tiny fraction.

A casino huh? That means he would be rich enough to afford flashy jewelry…

She mentally filed away that information while writing down the fact that he owned a casino.

"Uh huh. Now, can you tell me what you were doing on fourth street fourteen days ago at approximately 12:48 pm?"

"Yeah. My place had run out of gummy worms, so I was passing the area on my way to a nearby gas station."

The answer was reasonable, but (Y/n) felt a shift in the room when he had answered.

The best way the girl could describe it was the feeling you get when standing on the edge of a cliff. That tingly sense that comes with the prospect of doing something dangerous.

Like when you’re being hunted.

"Do you have a receipt or anyone that can vouch for this statement Mr. Nevadas?"

"Sure don't. Got intercepted by the police before I could get my food. And please, just call me Quackity hermosa." He winked cheerily. For a scary moment, any further questions were wiped from her mind, but (Y/n) quickly recovered from her brief fumble.

What the hell is wrong with me?! I'm acting like I've never been hit on before!!

Fucking hormones

"That's all for today, Quackity. Thank you for coming in. Do know that you will be closely watched until we catch this killer. Other than that, you should be clear to leave." (Y/n) hastily snatched her papers up in an attempt to get out of the suffocating room.

Clearly, the questioning should have gone on further, but (Y/n) couldn't think straight. It showed too.

"Looking forward to it." Was his response. With one last flustered glance, (Y/n) disappeared from the room.

Silence enveloped the white room.

Only after Quacktiy was sure that no one was watching him through the glass mirror, he started to laugh.

It began as a small chuckle, but slowly progressed into an insane cackle.

Clearly his brain had a crack or two in it. What other explanation was there as to why he had been stalking (Y/n)?

And killing for her.

Quackity had been there since day one. Ever since (Y/n) had moved to the big city to fulfill her dreams of becoming a big time detective, Quackity had become hyper aware of the feisty cop.

He knew her favorite color, most frequent restaurant, the college she went to, all her friends, and much much more.

With a sick grin, Quackity reached into his pocket to bring out a familiar ring.

He looked at it with no remorse for what it represented, instead opting to revel in his accomplishment.

"Don't worry (Y/n)." He chuckled darkly, his muscles flexing as he clenched the missing ring in his fingers tighter.

"You'll be mine soon."

Tumblr Sardonic here!

I wrote this one-shot about Quackity for my book Cliche on Wattpad. If you enjoyed this, make sure to go look at the full book on my account. You can find me on Wattpad @WayToSarcastic

Hope you enjoyed :D

[thatgoblin]

Chris Redfield and Leon Kennedy x Rookie Reader Headcannons

Leon

At first you were in awe of your lead. THE Leon S. Kennedy was showing you the ropes and helping train you for the job you'd dreamed of. Hero worship was common in this line of work, but you did your best to keep it to a minimum. You didn't want to embarrass yourself after all.

In place of that hero worship came this insatiable need to make Leon proud. Whether it was memorizing and nailing every written exam or physical test, you wanted to earn his praise.

You worked hard, harder than almost everyone it seemed. Leon never saw you slacking and saw how serious you were about the job. Protecting people was what you had always wanted to do with your life.

So when the grades came back that you weren't doing so hot, you were mortified. How could you let this happen? You didn't slack off, you studied everything you could get your hands on, hell you watched instructional videos on YouTube before bed! But you still weren't making a passing grade.

You thought you would be okay with the physical part, but no matter how hard you trained, no matter the extra hours you put in, you just couldn't seem to get what everyone else did. The moves were simple, why couldn't you just grasp them?

The only thing you thought you had going for you was the firing range, but even that was less than acceptable. Every time you tried to do something the pressure got to you and you messed up. You were so busy trying to make sure you didn't fail Leon that you were failing yourself.

It was when you were called into your commanding officer's office to speak about your grades that you were sure you were done. You were given two weeks that were used for break to study and practice and retest. But you'd already had nearly four months and the best you could do was subpar.

You were in your room, packing your bags because you knew you were going to be kicked out of the program when Leon showed up.

"Hey, Kid, you leaving for break?" He asked as he leaned against the door frame of your dorm.

"Uh. . . No," you said, hanging your head in shame. "I'm flunking out. Figured that it would just be easier to pack my bag now than wait later till I was officially asked to leave."

"What? How are you flunking?" Leon asked, straightening up. "I watch you every day and you're one of the hardest working cadets I've seen."

"Hard work doesn't mean much when you can't apply it correctly," you said. "I can't get the fighting technique right, the written exams are all a bust, and I can't even shoot a gun right. I don't deserve to be here."

"Have you asked for help or for someone to tutor you? That's what I'm here for, you know," he said, moving into the room to sit on the bed next to you.

You stared at the floor as you took a deep breath, feeling all the insecurities come rushing through to the surface.

"I didn't want to disappoint you," you said. "I mean, I wanted to do it all myself without help. I wanted to make you proud that you were my lead. If I was always asking for help, what good does that do? It shows that I can't do something on my own and need my hand held like some baby."

Leon sighed as he folded his hands together between his knees.

"I get it. I do. Wanting to make your leader proud and show how good you are, but we're a team here. No one is by themselves. You're only so good as your team is and if you're not doing well then that's a reflection on us," he said.

"Oh god, are you guys getting in trouble because of me?" You asked, looking at him horrified that you were possibly making things hard for your team.

"No, no, I mean. . . We're a team for a reason. You have to lean on us and trust us so when we need to, we can lean on you and trust you. If you need help studying or practicing outside of classes, I'll help you. That's why I'm here. It can be hard to ask for help in any situation cause it means you're admitting to a weakness, but that's okay. That's how we get stronger as individuals and as a team," Leon said.

You nod with a sigh. "I have two weeks to get better before I officially am asked to leave. I don't know if I can do it on my own," you said. "Can you help me?"

"Of course. I've got your back, Kid," Leon said, giving you a soft smile.

Chris

The B.S.A.A. was not for rookies, but they needed recruits so here you were. They provided training on weapons, protocol, how to work the gear, basically everything. Because they wanted everyone to be a well oiled machine out in the field, they made sure if you couldn't cut it that you didn't make it out of training. It was life and death and while they needed the hands, they weren't sending people out to die.

The trainers rotated to take classes of trainees. You were lucky enough to get the legendary Chris Redfield for your class leader. He would be teaching everything and making sure that everyone was ready. You had heard of him before, knowing that he was a weathered agent and could almost do anything was daunting.

Which was probably why you tried to avoid him at all costs in one on one situations. He wasn't mean or an ass, but he was intimidating. His stature and history were more than enough to show he knew exactly what he was talking about. You didn't want to feel stupid or embarrass yourself, so you kept him at a distance as you worked almost on your own.

Sure there were classes and work that you were trained in, but just the fear of being the weak link in front of others was hindering you. All of your tests and physical training was mediocre at best. Sure there were people that weren't going to cut it obviously, but you were much closer to their end of the spectrum than the other end that was running circles around you.

It wasn't that you couldn't do it. You could, but sometimes you froze up because your hands did something your mind didn't want to do or nerves made you stutter and stumble over your words. Everyone in the class at least had a background in the military or the police force or FBI or CIA or some other group that was similar to this.

You on the other hand did not. You came from a more technical background rather than a physical one. While you were miles ahead on the written tests, the physical ones were going to kill your career.

So when the notice went out that you were on the chopping block to be let go unless you could prove you were capable of being in the field, you weren't surprised.

Half of you wanted to keep trying, but the other half was telling you to pack up and go. You weren't unique or special, so why bother to continue to try?

It was when you were were working with one of the large guns by the shooting range, that Chris approached you. Before then, you two hadn't said a word to each other outside of the classes or even directly to each other.

So when his large frame took a seat across from you, folding his hands on the table after setting a file next to him, watching you with the gun, you weren't sure what to think.

"Hi," you said, freezing as you looked from the gun to him.

"Y/N, right?" He asked. You nodded as you set the pieces of gun on the table. "Why are you here?"

Oh Jesus, no. Why now? Why here?

"Uh," you said, blinking rapidly as your brain tried to come up with an answer. "Because I wanna help people."

"That's usually the answer I get," he said, sitting back to let his hands drop into his lap. "That or 'to kill bio weapons.' That's also a popular one."

"Yeah?" You said, unsure of what he was getting at.

"But I don't think it's why you're here," Chris said. "Because I think you don't know why you're here." Opening the file, you could see it was all information about you. Your background, schooling, family, credit score, even online usernames. They had everything. "When I was looking through the potential trainee's info, you struck me as odd. It's not exactly an every day thing that we get people who are more tech inclined rather than have a police or military background, but it happens. Usually they wash out though and end up in our research department."

"But I don't want to be in the research department," you said, frowning. Was he going to push you over to that section of the organization? You didn't want to be there though, otherwise you would have applied there.

"Every time I talk to someone and they have the chance to go to research after speaking to them about it, they take it," Chris said. "They figured out they can't cut doing the ground work so they move to a different field, but not you. I see you everyday in training, working your ass off to keep up with everyone and you almost make it. Not quite, but almost. Almost isn't going to cut it out on a mission."

"I know, I just. . . I'm working on it," you said, trying not to sound hateful or rude as your hands started to move on autopilot, putting your gun back together. "I'm really trying and I just can't get over this stupid hump that's holding me back."

"What's that? What's holding you back?" Chris asked.

"Me. I'm holding myself back," you said with a sigh. "I second guess everything because everyone around me has the experience that I don't, but I know I can do it. I just choke when it's time to act."

"I know you have some experience that they don't," Chris said. You nodded, understanding what he was talking about.

"I was a kid when it happened, I could barely call it working experience," you said, pushing the empty magazine into the gun.

"It was for Sherry Birkin," Chris said. "Raccoon City for a 9 year old isn't something to sniff at. From what the reports said, you were by yourself for three days before you made it out."

"Yeah," you said, nodding as you moved to the handgun next, disassembling it easily. "Hid in my apartment till I saw military trucks driving by then ran out."

"You lost your whole family to what we're training you to fight," Chris said, keeping his eyes on your hands as your fingers moved without faltering as you put the gun back together. "You were a kid when that happened. I say it still counts for experience that no one else really has. You know what you're doing with the infected and you know what it's like in the aftermath. We need people who know what it's like so that we can stop it from happening again."

"So what do you propose?" You asked, looking up as you finished putting the handgun back together. "After school training? Tutoring? Or do you want me to be counselor for survivors or shove me off to R and D?"

Chris chuckled as he closed the folder to look up at your face.

"I'm not gonna cut you," he said. "You know what you're doing and you're right. You're hang up is yourself. I'm gonna work with you to get over it. It's probably one the easiest things to work through really."

"You mean I can stay?" You asked, relaxing back into the chair, not even realizing you had grown so tense.

"Yeah. I just watched you take those weapons apart and put them back together in record time without even pausing," he said, pointing to the guns in front of you. "I want to work with you, Y/N. This isn't going to be an easy fight, but I really believe you have what it takes to be a good B.S.A.A. agent."

"Thank you, Sir," you said, smiling softly. "I appreciate that."

"You're welcome. We'll start some one on one combat training tomorrow before class. You're going to be working double what the others are, but it'll be for the best in the long run," he said.

"Whatever it takes, I'll do what I need to," you said.

"Glad to here it. Now, while we're here in the shooting range, let's test your aim."

[glassprism]

This might be a dumb question, but what's the point of bootleg trading? Why not just give the download links to people who ask (not aimed at you personally, just in general)? I get not posting them to publicly because of the legal stuff, but it just seems like a really high barrier to entry, especially if you're starting from scratch and trying to trade with people who have a massive catalog already.

Well, the thing is, a lot of traders I know do gift things to people who ask, they are just fairly selective about it, e.g. ask them through DMs or emails, and they have to be bootlegs with already working links. The thing is that most people don't know about that, because it's all private. Not putting you on the spot either, but do you know how often I gift things to people when off-Tumblr? You probably don't, but I'd say that, on average, it's about half my messages.

But if you're asking why people don't just gift anything and everything to anybody who asks, the first reason, I suppose, is probably related to questions as to why black markets exist or why they're difficult to find (relatively) - for safety. People, especially filmers, need to know that they are not at risk for getting arrested (and believe me, they have been), and so trading is a way of keeping bootlegs on the down low. Even if I were to gift freely in private, via DMs or emails, how do I know you can be trusted? How do I know you aren't asking me for a bootleg just to lure me into giving you something so you can report me to the police? I had one person ask me for a gift of a show I didn't have, and when I told them I couldn't gift it to them because, literally, I do not have it, they threatened to report me to the police. Kind of makes one paranoid.

Similarly, there used to be a trader who posted their releases directly to Tumblr, and the waves of hate they got from people drove them off the site. What if one of those people had reported them to the police? And keep in mind they weren't gifting anything publicly, they were just announcing that they HAD filmed something and trying to garner interest, and that Tumblr, in comparison to other social media sites, is arguably a little more difficult to search for things, and that still happened. Hence why filmers will often keep to releasing on private servers or email lists and only sell or trade to people they know. And even still, there are people freely posting bootlegs to YouTube publicly, putting the filmers at risk. So if it seems like a high barrier to entry, well, that's kind of the point.

(Though even then, keep in mind traders have lots of tips for new traders; for example, I usually recommend that new traders don't immediately hit up the big traders, but "grow" with smaller traders. Everyone was a new trader once - I definitely was - but the cool thing is that there are always people joining trading that you can work together with.)

And the second reason is that there is no "center" for theatre bootlegs. It isn't like movies or pop music where you can just go to Piratebay or Kickass torrents and download almost whatever you want. Theatre bootlegs are much more obscure in comparison - you're not going to have hundreds or thousands of people torrenting a bootleg of Phantom the way they torrent Thor: Love and Thunder or whatever - and the community is scattered across many different sites. That means that if you want people to gift freely, they're either going to have to come up with their own centralized place (which, given the bust of Encora, didn't work and had its own problems) or the individual trader will have to upload each. And. Every. One. Of their bootlegs.

And to show you the problems with the last part... say you want a video of Phantom. First, keep in mind that it takes me about an hour to upload 1 GB. Most files of Phantom range in the 4 to 8 GB size, but more recent ones are hitting 15-20 GB. So that could take anywhere from 4 to 20 hours of me waiting for a file to upload. That's just one video, by the way; now multiply by the, oh, roughly 250 videos I have. That means that, at minimum, I'd have about 1000 GB / 1000 hours of waiting, AKA around 40 days to upload everything. (It'll probably be much more because, again, I was assuming all my videos are 4 GB, and more are not.) And that's just of Phantom; what if you add all my Les Mis videos? My Elisabeth videos? My videos of other shows?

And then, where do I put these files? Again, torrenting sites are out of the question, nobody downloads theatre bootlegs enough from there to be worth it. The site most people use is MEGA, or potentially Google Drive. But both have limits on the amount of space they give you unless you pay; to use MEGA as an example, it only gives me 20 GB of space. That's enough space for maybe 5 small bootlegs. So either I have to create dummy account after dummy account (and I have, I have over 20 of them at this point), or I have to pay. How much do I have to pay? For the lowest price, I get 400 GB of space. Seems like a lot - until you realize that I've nearly filled up 8 TB of space with my bootlegs. That means I need at least the Pro II account, which offers 8 TB of storage, to upload all the files I have, and given that people are constantly releasing new stuff, I'll probably have to go to Pro III to have enough space. So essentially, unless I create literally hundreds of dummy accounts, I'd be paying $30 a month to have enough space to give everyone bootlegs for free.

And that's only for my collection of mainly Phantom, Les Mis, and Elisabeth videos. Imagine what it's like for the really big traders with massive, sprawling collections. And, remember, MEGA takes down stuff all the time, so that means I'd have to be constantly checking all my accounts to make sure that links are still working, re-uploading anything that's gone down, sending out new links if that happens, and at this point, the whole thing has become a job, not a hobby. A job that I'm paying to do (like, I'm not getting paid for this), to give everyone else free stuff, if I have a Pro account!

So hopefully now you can see both the reasons and the logistical problems of why traders don't just do what you said. Hope that helps!

[hobipaint]

Graffiti and Chalk - one.

summary: You thought you knew him. You thought him gone. Kim Taehyung was part of you that you had carefully suppressed, keeping his memories to one box near the wall of your mind. That was your fault, though - empty walls demand for art. And who other than your own neighbourhood vandal?

↳ pairing: ex police student turned vandal! taehyung x officer! female reader

↳ genres: angst, eventual fluff?

↳ word count: 4.7K

↳ disclaimers: pg15!, vandalism, police officers, criminal past and heavy discussion of it, mentions of attempted murder.

one | two

a/n: this was supposed to be a one shot, but i decided to make it a two shot because inspiration struck at the twelfth hour. This is based on stigma tae, and has massive massive references to hyyh tae as well!! I'm warning you all. Written for the @bangtanwritingbingo prompt: chalk drawings. Beta read by @vaekth and @kookiestarlight who are possibly the most supportive and appreciative people I could have asked for, thank you so much!!

You'd thought that being an officer would mean solving cases for people who genuinely needed help. Not hunting around for a missing pumpkin. 

"It's round, large, and I think it was slightly squishy, Y/N," the kid who had run up to you exclaimed again, while making gestures for round, large and squishy. 

If the kid weren't this adorable, you'd squish him for being too loud at 8 in the morning. 

You unlocked the door to your office, taking in the sight of the homey little cubicle that you maintained alone. Being the sole officer in a neighbourhood should be hard work, but in a neighbourhood where practically everybody is asleep? Not as much. 

You sighed as you pulled the kid in - who by now had told you that his name was Sungwoo, and he was eight years old. His mother told him that if he ever lost anything precious he should head to the police, so here he was. 

"Can you find my pumpkin?" He peered up at you as you tried to get the coffee machine started- well, as well as you can with a kid in the way. "It's round, large and squishy." 

"Round, large, squishy. Got it." You smiled wearily at him, seeing how his eyes lit up at the sight of your notebook- the one he obviously thought you wrote your cases in. You took your espresso in a mug, running over to him before he damaged it. He ran over to it, picking it up, dropping it because of its weight and picking it up again. 

"Can you write a message for Peter here?" He asked you, eyes wide and round as he stared at the brown leather bound book. 

"Peter? I thought we were talking about your pumpkin?" 

He nodded vigorously- strong enough to make you worry if his head would fall over. Flopping his hair to the side messily, he scampered to you as you settled in your chair, opening the last page of your book - where you had kept your post-its. "Peter is pumpkin! It's made of something- mom told me-" he put a hand to his head, trying to force his small head to think of big words, "Is it pushy?" 

"Do you mean it is a plushie, Sungwoo?" You said, sighing and writing it down on a post-it note and sticking it on your desk. 

"Yeah!" His eyes sparkled, and he bent his head down to the paper you gave him to scribble a hasty note for Peter. Once satisfied, he raised his head, giving the chit two pats before turning to you. "It's missing, Y/N. Can you find it?"

"Of course I can," you reassured him the best you could while half-asleep. The boy suddenly pulled you into a hug, happy tears spilling out of his eyes as he murmured thank you's over and over. 

You held him for a few more seconds, understanding the worry that the kid would have over his plushie. You didn't understand why he had to bring it to you, though. 

You felt a soft yet insistent buzz in your pant pockets all of a sudden, realizing it was your phone. You pulled yourself away from the crying child, and caressed his head while picking up the call. 

"Good morning, Officer L/N." The coarse voice of your chief barked at you. 

You sighed, not wanting to deal with any of his tantrums right after you dealt with the case of Peter the Pumpkin. "Good morning, Chief." 

"I'm arriving at your office in about ten minutes. We have to discuss something important." 

You sighed again, hand grabbing Sungwoo's as you led him outside the office. Time to clean up. "Of course, Sir."

"Why is this place so messy?" was the first thing you had to hear in the form of a greeting. When your chief said ten minutes, he clearly meant half an hour.

You'd spent some time clearing up cookie crumbs from your table, dusting any evidence of your multiple ramen packets, arranging the tables in proper order, lining the chairs up, and stuffing all the stuff you couldn't clear into a closet. It seemed clean enough to you.

"I shall clean it, Sir." You bowed your head once, carefully maintaining your expression so that the chief doesn't think of you as any more insolent than he already does. 

"It doesn't reflect well upon the force to have a messy office, Y/N. I'm sure you were taught that," he said, pressing his finger to a certain spot on a table, and raising it up to show you. "Dust in our offices speaks of nonchalance. That is the last thing we'd want anyone to think of us is that we're nonchalant."

"I apologise, sir. I shall rectify it." 

"I expect you to. Anyways," he said, dusting his hands and moving to another corner of the office, "that is not what I came here for." He settled into the chair-  your chair, with the note for Peter the Pumpkin intact.

You prayed for him to ignore it. 

"There's been growing signs of vandalism in the neighbourhood you're patrolling, Y/N," The chief said to you in a gruff tone, looking like an angry cat with his whiskers trembling. He wore a scowl to match the whole look. Luckily, his pondering eyes missed out on the missing pumpkin report. "I want you to catch that person. Why isn't it done yet?"

"They were untraceable, Sir. All we could capture was a navy blue hoodie and jeans. Nothing else. There's only graffiti and chalk all over the places he's been at, Sir. I tried looking for clues-" 

"Keep looking, then."

"I'm trying, sir. I have asked the owners of all the shops on the street to hand over any CCTV footage they have of the person so that I can analyze it and try to nab him. It is a futile task till now, though." 

The chief rubbed his hand hard on his thigh, the sound of his palm scratching against the coarse trouser fabric reaching you. "They are being a menace, Y/N. A nuisance to those who want peace in this neighbourhood. You are supposed to bring that peace for them, not complain about not being able to get that person. That is your job." He looked you directly in the eye, anger clearly visible. "Or would you wish to leave?"

You twitched in anger, forcing yourself to remain calm. The chief had a penchant for transferring those who were unsuccessful in their cases to different stations- the more transfers, the more incompetent you seemed. You had already begun at a relatively low level, and you couldn't afford going lower. You nodded stiffly. 

"Any more complaints, and I'd be forced to transfer you somewhere else and hand this case over to someone competent. And you know it wouldn't be safe for your career, Y/N." He rose up from the chair, heading towards the door. "I want it resolved. Soon." 

You bowed your head, in a sense of respect for your senior you'd actually never felt. It was annoying, honestly, and your hatred for this man just grew more and more. You had requested since the day of your graduation from the academy to be put in the forensics department - something that actually was your specialty. But no, here you were, patrolling a neighbourhood where the only problem was a kid scribbling on walls and leaving an alphabet behind. 

V.

Taehyung kicked a pebble aside, letting it roll aimlessly along the half-paved, half-broken road. "I'm out of green paint, again." 

He glanced at the aluminium shutters he had decided to vandalize- no, beautify- today, deciding that the subtle decor of the florist's shop and the grim outside of the tattoo shop - both needed redecorations. He didn't care who was the owner. He didn't care how many reports they filed about the eerie similarities of the vandal to Mrs. Kim's son - they never cared about him before, so they'd never care about him now. That, he was sure of. 

His red paint had been used to make the outer petals of a rose that he had dedicatedly been drawing the previous day, until the owner had yelled from his house above for him to stop. That was early, though. 11 AM was a predictable time for a vandal to walk through the streets, spraying graffiti and dusting chalk over every nook and corner until he was satisfied by the art he had created. 

His wristwatch ticked three as he picked up his blue paint can. Just a few hours later, but effective enough for the owner to have fallen asleep - Taehyung could definitely justify that by the snores that echoed behind the shutters. 

"Reporting. Reporting. Vandal. Street 13. I repeat. Vandal. Street 13." 

The cuckoo clock that your mom had gifted you to decorate the less than neat office struck three just when the report came through. Just when you were about to settle for the night.

You pushed your papers aside, leaving the missing car complaint on your table. Holding your baton, slipping your ID into the pocket of your jeans and dusting crumbs off your chiffon blouse, you picked up the radio. 

"Street 13. Officer Y/N reporting." 

The gruff voice of your chief growled back at you. "The vandal has been found on camera, finally. The florist's CCTV; he sent a complaint. In fact, he's been wandering the streets for half an hour now, Y/N. Where have you been?" 

You were about to form a legible enough response, say that the paperwork he had set for you was what consumed your time, but he beat you to it. Sighing into the phone, he said, "Nevermind that. Get to his location immediately, and capture him." His voice stumbled for a second. "Take the taser, just in case." 

"Yes sir," you responded meekly, and disconnected the radio. 

You looked around for your keys, going past a board full of cases that were never relevant enough to be solved - especially the one of the missing pumpkin. The types of cases you received here made you shudder, this wasn't why you had spent so much time training at the university. You tucked your radio into your jacket as you pushed it on your shoulders, grabbing onto a half-eaten sandwich to satisfy your hunger along the way.

"I have to get that person before he robs me of a chance at the forensics department forever," you thought while speeding towards the location told to you - while maintaining the speed limit, of course. No space for nonchalance. 

You'd wanted to finish all your paperwork today and get back to an analysis you were working on - preferably get a nap too. Capturing a neighbourhood graffiti artist- this isn't what you had wanted to do.

This wasn't what Taehyung had wanted to do. 

The paint dried off slowly on the metal surface, a small drop of ink trickling down where Taehyung had stopped. The design wasn't matching what he had thought at all, he thought as he stared at it. Time to switch it up. 

He picked up the painting from right where he had stopped it - merging blue into the red petals as he was on his way to the centre of the flower. Painstakingly, he traced lines that would capture the delicate curves of the outlines, serving to further merge into the picture. 

His vandalism wasn't ugly drawings, nudity, or someone just spraying 'SUCKAZ!' all over a wall. That is for amateurs. His was nuanced art. Art that he couldn't do in the day. The ones he could never showcase in the galleries. The ones he buried in the deepest recesses of his mind, burning a hole into the boxes he stuffed them into. This was his freedom. 

Taehyung picked up the black can. Fixing the nozzle in the proper direction, he shook the bottle- once, twice. The paint came out in spurts at first, before settling into a steady spray. Black always enhances everything, doesn't it? Enhancement that never seemed beautiful - it was just there to make it stand out. Be noticed. Be shamed. Be suspected. Look deadly, or even look dead. Even the most innocent faces look devious with black. What's to say his flower would still look alive? 

The black slowly spiralled across the expanse of the shutter, coiling over and over in what Taehyung thought could be the leaves. The thorns that held the flower back from reaching the epitome of beauty- at least, outwardly beauty. He detested how overhyped a rose was- just as destructible as all other flowers. Where's the beauty in something temporary? 

The green paint can had been used up last time when he had sprayed ivy all over the fashion boutique's doors- all of which had been washed away. A shame, Taehyung thought, and picked up his airbrush. Filling a little green into the small holder, he tested it a few times on the footpath - he'd scrub chalk all over it later on, he still needed to add more to beautify the shops. He carefully painted leaves all over the black he had sprayed, letting them flatten out against the metal at the back and form a protective layer around the rose. Unnecessary by all means. 

He then switched to a darker green, picking up the airbrush once again to add some subtlety in the leaves. He watched the spray slowly settle right where he wanted it - paint, unlike his life, was something he had full control of. It was liberating. 

Standing back and twirling the can over and over in his hand, Taehyung was somewhat satisfied with what he made. A rose. Simple, overrated. Just like flowers. The leaves stood out more to him, along with the thorns; their prickly points being the focus of the picture. Perfect. 

He picked up his personal favorite - a small can of black paint who's nozzle had been crafted by him. Stooping down to the corner of the shutter, he slowly sprayed across it. Black settling on silver gray, one single alphabet. V. 

That's it. He was done. Just an hour's work. 

He turned to the tattoo artist's shop, the shutter a colourful mess littered with messy black stains and drawings the owner probably thought was hip. Taehyung cringed. How was it possible for an artist to be that bad at decorating their own shop? He walked a few steps back, admiring the size of it and thinking of what he could fill there. Something that would really annoy a tattoo artist- he deserved it after having ruined the shutter like that. Picking up a blade, Taehyung set to scrape away the skulls- which, he found, were stickers. Gross. Peeling them off, he set to chip away at the paint- the soft thunk, thunk of the blade slapping against the metal echoed around him. Hopefully, not too loud. 

The metal loudly protested as Taehyung pressed his blade against what seemed to be an outline of a body, done with black, and some random inscriptions that he could notice were wearing away. This had to be really old. 

Scratch, scratch, scratch. The blade kept pushing at the layers of colour, forcing them off the metal. He could see glints of silver shining underneath it, dim under the streetlight.

Scratch, scratch, scratch. He kept pushing at the paint, tongue poking out as his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He had to do it now. There was no other time for him to do this. Now. Now. Now. 

The silver suddenly glinted more brightly- a shade impossible under the dull, flickering yellow of the streetlights. White lights created a halo of sorts around him, and Taehyung knew his time was up. He smiled. At least one place got the beauty they deserved. 

"Hands up!" A voice yelled behind him, and he could hear a click that definitely sounded like a taser gun. 

Looking up, he cursed loudly at everyone and anyone. He could have finished it tonight. His work would have been done, and he would have been on his way. He turned around, annoyance sparking in his eyes with sarcastic acceptance lining his lips in the way they curled. "You found me," he murmured, before letting himself get slammed against the very shutters he was painting.

Fate played wonderful games, and for now, you were its newest loser. 

"Name." You spoke, your voice monotone yet clear. 

"You know me, Y/N. Don't pretend you don't." Taehyung crooned, smirking while he rotated the glass that rested atop the table. 

Your annoyance only grew. When you were told that there was a vandal in the streets, you didn't expect it to be a familiar face. 

Kim Taehyung was known to you. Someone who had lived right next door. Someone who had been known as a lovable, obedient boy by the neighbours- you still remembered how your mother would gush about him. Someone you knew, and once, cared for. 

Someone who was later only known as the kid who flung a bottle on his stepfather's face and was sentenced for five years - which, in fact, was a misjudgement. He was innocent, and the video of him attacking the man was manipulated. Fake. Edited. Whatever you chose wouldn't be enough to change anything in the past. 

Taehyung had come out of jail a changed man, weeping openly in the streets when he heard of his family's fate- what he had heard, though, was something you were unaware of. Two years had since passed, and you no longer heard your mother talking about the Kim's boy. He had simply vanished, for you. No traces anywhere. 

But here he was. Kim Taehyung. Alive, breathing. Smirking. And spinning a glass over and over. 

"Give that to me." You said, snatching the glass away from him and keeping it aside. Settling into your chair, you pulled your laptop closer once again, mustering the most serious look you can. "I'm not playing around, Taehyung. Talk properly. Behave. You're already in a rough spot." 

Taehyung laughed; a mirthless, almost painful laughter. "I can't see how anything can be bad here, officer. With all due respect, of course." He straightened up, still keeping that smirk on his face.

You exhaled your breath slowly, holding back all the words you wanted to hurl at him. "Name?"

"Kim Taehyung."

You typed it in, feeling the way each letter pad was pushed down before you moved over it- momentary, but fulfilling. "Age."

"As of today, 25." 

"Job."

"Nothing. Add the official vandal of Street 13 if you want." 

You raised an eyebrow, fingers abruptly coming to a stop. "Behave." 

"No job, officer." Taehyung said, settling further ahead in his seat and pausing, before speaking again. "Why do you need this though? I already have a criminal record, don't I?" 

You turned your face to him, the sudden change in light exposure hurting your eyes. The hurt they felt couldn't possibly fathom the depths of pain you saw churning in Taehyung's eyes, like pits of fire. They were seemingly blank,  but you had known him. Known him long enough to know that this wasn't who he used to be. This wasn't him. 

"Once you were proven innocent, your record was wiped clean. The manipulators were given the charges that you had." You looked at him while saying this, trying to notice any emotions that would make way to his face. None. No twitching lips, no annoyance in his eyebrows. Just his eyes that seethed anger. "Family?" 

"None." 

You raised an eyebrow. "None?"

Taehyung groaned, getting up from the chair and turning around, hands on his waist. "Don't make me repeat all that shit again. You know it, Y/N." 

"Sit back down, Taehyung." You said, irritated by his tantrums. It was four in the morning, for God's sake. You didn't have the energy to deal with him. "I need details if you want to get out of this without any charges." 

"Dead. Most of them. Those who aren't, disowned me as soon as I got into jail. Something about not wanting to be related to a criminal." He said lowly, a gruff tone to his voice as he spoke the last words. 

You hummed lowly, not knowing what to say. How do you possibly respond to something like this? You weren't trained for interrogation at university. You specialized in forensics. This wasn't supposed to be your job. 

"I'm sorry that happened, Taehyung." You managed after a few moments of silence. 

"Don't be." He shrugged, then looked up. "You don't mean it." 

"I still need a reason as to why you are destroying the places around here with your graffiti and chalk drawings, Taehyung." You ignored him and continued, rising from your chair to let your sore limbs relax. "Unfortunately, I can't let you leave till you give me a reason." 

Taehyung stayed mum, much to your annoyance. 

You slammed your hand on the table, a loud slap that stung your hand, but also Taehyung's ears, it seemed. "Reasons. Now."

"I just wanted to." 

"Wanted to? So you were voluntarily damaging someone else's property?" 

He raised his head to look at you; once, twice. Then with a resigned sigh, he responded. "Yeah. But I was beautifying it." 

"A beautification they never asked for?" You said, as Taehyung groaned behind you. 

"No one gives a damn, Y/N-" 

"The police do." You say, preparing to send a message to your chief over the radio. "Got him." 

"The police didn't care when I was innocent in that case, Y/N. Stop pretending like they'll care for me when I'm actually guilty of something." 

"That case was mishandled."

"Yeah, Y/N. It was mishandled. But only for you." You turned to him, shocked at the venom that suddenly laced his voice. 

In the few seconds that you had turned away from him, his eyes had turned bloodshot. Red rimmed the remaining white of his eyes. "You wouldn't know what it is to be locked up for harming people you loved, Y/N. You wouldn't understand that pain," he murmured, loud enough for you to hear him in the echoes of the office. 

You wanted to scream at him. Tell him how he had hurt you. Remind him of all the things you had forced yourself to forget over seven years. The way your heart still hurt for him. 

"You're right. I won't understand. So sit here, and explain yourself." You pulled your chair back, seating yourself in it and gazing up at him expectantly. 

He was just staring at you- you couldn't say whether his gaze held expectations or disdain. Then, shaking his head, "You're still just as stubborn, aren't you," he said, softly smiling as he slipped into his chair. "Adamant, and so, so confusing."

"You don't know me anymore, Taehyung. Don't pretend. Anyways," you said, turning to your laptop again. "I need-"

"No." He stood up once again- why was he standing? "Answer me, now." 

He rested his arms on the table, chest leaning forward to balance himself- and now, you could see the changes he had brought in himself. In place of lean muscle there were defined biceps you could see being flexed. In place of short hair was curly locks that fell until his crown, now hanging over. In place of a cheeky grin that sent your blood rushing to your cheeks was a pair of lips, set tight in one line that sent chills down your spine. There was warmth to him, yes, but it was different. This wasn't the Taehyung you knew. 

"You knew that I was back." Your eyes moved back to look into his. And you noticed more changes. Instead of a carefree twinkle, there was dark, brooding black filling his pupils. "You knew. I'd seen you that night." 

The night when you had seen him falling to his knees, soaking himself in the rain as he gave his tears as a tribute to the gushing skies. The night he returned. The night you thought he didn't know you. 

"I'd seen you after that as well. That day at the convenience store, I'd seen you buying candies. You still buy the same kind, don't you? Lemon flavoured." 

The night you gave up on your dreams to become an analyst in the forensic lab for the police. The night where you stared up to question everything you did as your feet soaked in the snow. Two years ago. The night he thought he knew you. 

"You're hurting me by not remembering us, Y/N." 

"We were nothing to begin with." You cleared your throat, settling further back into your chair. "You asked me on a date, and stood me up. We're nothing. Absolutely nothing." 

Taehyung opened his mouth to speak again, but leaned back, standing tall, straight. You almost missed his warmth - no. This wasn't the warmth of a person you had cared for. 

"It's so cold outside, Y/N, why haven't you turned on the heater?" Your chief's voice filled the room after a few minutes of absolute silence. Taehyung had taken to leaning on the wall, now, maintaining an anxious distance. "Did you get the man?"

You simply pointed towards Taehyung, watching the chief's face flash with recognition, brows hastily furrowing as a frown formed on his face.

"Kim Taehyung?" Your chief asked, coming up to the two of you. "Is it really you? Are you the vandal?"

Taehyung remained silent, head hung. 

The chief inhaled, then exhaled; loud enough for you to hear him - "It is you, isn't it. What happened after the attempted murder case?" 

"Proven false, Sir." You informed your superior. For some odd reason, you felt like you had to come to Taehyung's defense. 

"I am aware of that, Y/N." The chief said, looking Taehyung up and down. As reported, he was in the navy blue sweatshirt and ripped jeans- and you could see in the clear light of your office that he had ripped the holes into them himself. Something he did before to look fashionable, he used to say. 

"I don't really want to put any charges on you, Taehyung. Why did you do it?"

Taehyung spoke, voice gravelly. "It was liberating, Sir." 

"You broke the law, though." 

"The law broke me, Sir." 

The chief took another deep breath and settled onto the chair where Taehyung was sitting just a few moments ago. His wrinkled skin seemed to age even more. Taehyung was close with the chief as a student, that you knew- you had seen him going multiple times to his office to get clarifications after class. You wondered how the chief felt - did he feel the same sting of recognition you had felt? 

"I don't want you to get any charges, Taehyung," he said, before laughing and adding, "all these years, and I still have my student in my head." 

He stood up and turned to face Taehyung again, worry reflecting in his eyes as he held him by the shoulders. "You're still the Taehyung I know, right?" 

Taehyung looked away, down, his face coming in your line of vision - you could see the small rivulets that flowed from the pool of emotions in his eye, down the lines that worry, anger and disbelief had formed on his face. Sniffing softly, he turned back to the chief. "Yes, Sir." 

The chief visibly relaxed, his arms coming down to his sleeves, gripping Taehyung. "Good. I hope it remains that way." 

He returned to his stern stance, and faced you. "I suggest you keep him here for the night, Y/N." he looked outside, the sky just turning sapphire. "I shall return in the morning to talk. Get some rest while you're at it. And Taehyung? Eat something." 

The chief swiftly departed the office, and Taehyung slumped into the chair. "Seven years, and the old man still remembers me," he laughed mirthlessly, lips twisting in an amused smile. "Always appreciated him." 

"And so did he," you mentioned. Taehyung was always brought up as a comparison for your batch of officers to emulate. Even when he was in jail, he was remembered among you as a diligent student and worker. "'Remember his good', he used to say. He always remembered you."

"And you?" He suddenly looked at you. His eyes were no longer bloodshot - there were small remnants of anger, but all you could see was wistfulness. "Did you remember me, Y/N?" 

a/n: yup, I stopped there. Do leave some feedback if you liked it- in the comments, or as an ask! Also, if you wish to be tagged for the next part, you can ask for that too! Thank you for giving your time to this fic,, and I hope you enjoyed reading it! love, hazel💞

masterlist

[wisterialagoon]

For you, I'll Stay : Pt.2

Dabi is one of the top soldiers of the League of Villains. He does the dirty work and feels the stain of crime on his hands. You're an Assistant Inspector at the Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency, resigned to records-keeping instead of doing actual fieldwork. What happens when these two become intertwined in the most prominent political event that changed the era of 1990's Tokyo Japan?

Warnings: Violence (a girl gets beat up in this chapter), gangs, eventual smut(not in this chapter tho)

Btw, in this dabi doesn't have any scars on his face!

Azabu Gardens,

Moto-Azabu 3-7-5 Minato-ku, Tokyo 106-0046.

January 9, 1990, Tuesday.

The League

20:00 hours

The first rays of the morning began to creep into the premises of their mansion, illuminating the entirety of their eight-hectare complex. The lawn had been freshly mowed and the foyer had been polished to sparkling clean, as per the orders of their leader. It had been his first order of business during the general assembly with the entire brotherhood.

The soldiers were understandably taken aback at hearing him rattle off a list of things to do which were, in essence, house chores. From checking the car engines, laundering their clothes, and stocking up on groceries, the loyal members followed everything down to the very last detail, albeit with a little curiosity as to why they were doing this when they were supposed to be preparing for a major operation set later in the day.

Meanwhile the boss carried out everything as if it was business as usual. They had convened at their usual 10:00 am meeting at the solarium, exchanging data and intel regarding any updates on their framework's current phase. After making sure that everything was in order–from the time it would take to execute the operation to the time it would take for the police to arrive on scene, they called it a day and retired to their own rooms.

That was this morning.

Preparations were over and it was almost nearing midnight–time to start the show.

Everyone had gotten dressed in the same all-black attire, distinguished only by the formality of their suit and quality of the fabric. The leader had worn a two-piece suit, while the soldiers only had lightweight turtlenecks to pair with their slacks.

The cars were ready by the driveway, it's trunks loaded with a series of guns, masks and the deactivate system; and everyone had lined up at the foyer, at the foot of the grand staircase, awaiting the greeting and instructions of their boss.

"Good evening gentlemen," his voice didn't have that booming quality that most of his leaders had, but the clarity of his diction and richness of his timbre proved sufficient to command everyone's attention. He didn't need any of the pomp or fanfare that was usually associated with the league–his presence alone was enough.

There weren't many of them tonight, it was a small operation that needed only seven of their best men; even so, his under-boss, and the rest of his soldiers were waiting with bated breath at what he was about to say.

Finally standing by the newel post, he slowly slips on his leather gloves and begins to address their small unit.

"A rundown Kurogiri," he instructs his under-boss, with not so much as a glance spared his way.

"Today we initiate phase 2.1 of our framework," Kurogiri steps out of the line and proceeds to hand out a file on their operation and walkie-talkies to the soldiers. "Team A, Touya and Atsuhiro, will take care of the decoy. Team B, Himiko and Jin, will secure the target. Team C, Magne and Spinner, will deactivate the sensors and tip the police," he finishes, working his way back to his position beside their leader.

Tomura looks at him with a quirked eyebrow, expectant.

Kurogiri clears his throat. "Phase 2.2 of the framework will begin immediately after."

6 Chome-10-1 Roppongi, Minato City, Tokyo 106-6108, Japan.

The Takahashi Residence.

21:30 hrs.

As soon as Kurogiri parked the car in an empty lot two blocks from the site, he turned on their linked communication system and radioed to their leader that they were ready.

"Masks and Positions," Tomura instructed."Remember, one slip up will cost the entire operation."

Save for the thrumming of the engine, their leaders voice was the only thing that had cut through the nights silence.

"Yep, Tomura everyone is positioned," Kurogiri confirms, and signals to Team A that they were good to go.

As soon as they were given the signal, Touya and Atsuhiro make their way to the site, with the latter updating Tomura about their position. "Currently making my way into the Takahashi Residence along with Touya."

As they stopped to confirm that it was indeed the residence of the Minister of National Defence, their leader warns, "Keep an eye out for the security Atsuhiro," both soldiers nod their assent, replying that they located a blind spot in the houses security system and private guards.

After signalling Team B to follow, Kurogiri had set up operations control with Magne and Spinner. Just as they had gotten access into the house's security system, Tomura radios, "Kurogiri, do you copy?"

"Yes, I copy," the under-boss replies, holding the walkie-talkie in one hand and the other sifting through the nights operation file.

"Do you have a visual on the Minister and his wife?" Tomura  asks.

"Yes," he turns around to look at Magne and Spinners surveillance feed, which was focused on the master bedroom.

"They're currently separated from the decoy."

"Good." Tomura  affirms. "Magne, when Atsuhiro, Touya, Jin and Himiko are in place you'll override the security system, understand?"

"Understood!" the soldier nods while simultaneously preparing all the codes needed to deactivate the system.

"Once Touya and Atsuhiro take care of the decoy, that's when Himiko and Jin will go and search for the target," Tomura reminds, looking over at his copy of the operation file as well.

"Spinner, monitor all frequencies from a two-kilometre radius of the site. If anyone reports anything before we do then I want to hear it. If anyone is even in the middle of dialling a government or police number, I want to be the first to know, understood?"

"Gotcha boss," Spinner confirms. "The hacking system is ready to go, all lines within a two-kilometre radius is tapped as well."

21:42 hours.

After a preliminary entry into the estate, the four soldiers settle in their own entry points and radio back. "Spinner, we're in place, you can drop the security."

"Alright. You have a little over thirty minutes before the back-up security kicks in," the enthusiastic man programmes a few codes and counts backwards, "it's down in...5, 4, 3, 2, 1."

"Go." A deep voice follows, alerting the four soldiers on-site.

For a second, Team A and B thought it has been their leader who had addressed them, but immediately broke out into grins when the voice followed with, "Be careful in there guys."

''Don't worry, Kurogiri." Jin  assures, giving Himiko, Atsuhiro and Touya a thumbs up. "We've got this"

The four soldiers discreetly jump over the deactivated sensors and immediately break into action, disarming the guards and eventually knocking them unconscious by landing considerably hard blows to their neck, causing their head to snap to the side.

After slipping past the unconscious guards, Atsuhiro and Touya pry open one of the windows, climbing in quietly while Himiko and Jin wait outside.

Team A immediately proceeds to the target's room, bolting the maid's quarters from the outside after unfortunately having to knock her out as well.

The two check their copy of the house's floor plan, with Touya sending a glance to Atsuhiro before slowly opening the door into one of the mansion's bedrooms.

In the room sat 18-year old Takahashi Yua. with her back facing Atsuhiro and Touya slowly the boys made their way to her and in mere seconds Atsuhiro had his hands over Yua's mouth and held her in place.

The shocked girl could do nothing but try to thrash around and scream for help but Touya tied her hands and gagged her.

Touya then raised a fist, about to hit the girl before he was quickly stopped by Atsuhiro "Dabi, not here, let's take it outside. "

Nodding in agreement, Touya helped Atsuhiro drag the silently sobbing girl back outside from where they came from, leading to the back of the house and into the garage.

Seeing Touya and Atsuhiro leave with Yua allowed Himiko and Jin to make their way inside and find their operations primary objective, leaving Team A to deal with the girl.

"Compress, take off the gag," Touya instructed, to which Atsuhiro nodded and quickly removed the bundle of cloth that had been choking the girl.

As soon as it had been done, Touya struck her across the cheek with a force that pushed her backwards. It was a strong enough blow to leave an angry bruise but not enough to knock her out completely.

After taking stock of her figure-from her laboured breathing to her split lower lip, he delivers a few more punches to her torso and a last strike across her face. All the while, Atsuhiro hands had snaked around her arms. keeping her in place.

Finally, Touya pulled out a handkerchief that had been previously doused in ether.

He pressed it firmly to her mouth and nose. forcing her to inhale the substance which quickly knocked her out.

"Hey, you guys done in here?" Himiko skipped into the parking lot, "We've got the stuff."

"Yeah," Touya pockets the handkerchief and watches as Yua unceremoniously slumps to the floor with a dull thud.

"We're done." he drags her body to the main entrance of the parking lot, ensuring that she would be the first thing to be seen by anyone coming through the garage's main door.

"You're too brutish Touya." Atsuhiro grimaces at the bruised girl crumpled in the corner.

"Whatever, someone make the signal, we're done here." Touya gets up to leave.

6 Chome-10-1 Roppongi, Minato City, Tokyo 106-6108, Japan.

The Takahashi Residence.

23:00 hrs.

"Magne. I got a call from the other guys." their leader radios from where he was keeping sentinel of the entire operation.

"They're all clear, make the call."

"Got it boss, making the call now."

Magne dials the number on a burner phone expecting the line to ring a couple of times before anyone answers, as expected, on the fifth ring, a woman's voice breaks through the radio silence.

"SMPA, what is your concern?" her voice was clear. but slightly unstable. when she doesn't give her a reply, she repeats her question, louder this time.

"Kidnapping" she says, evenly distributing the stress on each syllable to feign monotony. "23:00, 6 Chome-10-1 Roppongi, Minato City, Tokyo 106-6108, Japan. Takahashi Yua." Magne states calmly, while she hears rapid scribbling on the other end.

Here come the textbook reactions she thinks to herself, amused.

"who is this? Where is your intel from?" she asks, an undertone of panic lacing her voice. "Hello?" she follows up when Magne

doesn't reply—to which she settles for perching the receiver directly over his mouth to make sure it picks up her heavy breathing.

Magne waited a few moments before finally hanging up.

She radios to their leader. "Alright, the phone call is done the officer will be calling for backup soon."

After checking his watch, Tomura smirks at their record. "Keigo, you ready to receive that request for backup?" Tomura asks through his walkie-talkie.

"Yeah, on patrol near the area so I should be getting that on my frequency." he affirms, shifting to a more comfortable position on the drivers seat he had convinced his partner in advance to take a leave for their shift that night, so as to ensure that he would be able to carry out his part in the operation without any hiccups.

"I'll be first on the scene when the request for backup is made."

6 Chome-10-1 Roppongi, Minato City, Tokyo 106-6108, Japan.

The Takahashi Residence.

2:40 hours.

"Don't worry Ma'am, we'll find out who did this to your

daughter." Keigo assured the Ministers wife, pure concern flawlessly depicted in his facial expression. "We've done a preliminary search of the crime scene, we'll come back with updates as soon as we find anything conclusive."

"You had better catch that criminal, I want him in jail, my daughter is lying unconscious in a hospital!" she demands, hands coming up to cover her face as her body was enveloped in a series of sobs.

Keigo gave a curt nod and comforting pat to the woman's shoulder before turning around and getting back into his car to leave.

As he pulled out of the driveway, he immediately drove to a remote alley in the outskirts of the district, once he was assured that his location wouldn't be found, he made a call.

"Hello? Keigo?" their leader answered. ''What's your status?"

"Shigaraki, I just got back from the crime scene." he says, turning the police radio down and killing the car's engine.

"And?" their leader asks, undoubtedly expectant of his answer.

Keigo knew that his cover was especially pivotal for that night's operation—and that Tomura had made it clear with no uncertain terms that the success of this phase relied on his ability to herd the police where they wanted them to.

"The family doesn't suspect a thing They believe it was an attempted kidnapping" he says, waiting for their leader's response.

After a beat, their leader simply hums in affirmation and hangs up, It wasn't much—he knew that Tomura had always been a man of few words, but he also knew that he always meant whatever he said, with that in mind, he restarted the car and proceeded to drive back to their residence.

Azabu Gardens,

Moto-Azabu 3-7-5 Minato-ku, Tokyo 106-0046.

January 9, 1990, Tuesday.

The League

03:00 hours.

He had stopped at the driveway, feeling no need to actually park his car since he was sure he'd be back at the station soon enough. Besides, he needed to speak with their leader immediately.

He had successfully crossed the foyer and was about to go up

the stairs when a familiar voice calls out to him "Keigoo, you're back!" The youngest member of their group, Himiko, approaches him, grinning.

"How'd it go?"

"Went well." he shrugs off his coat, and hangs his police hat over the coat stand. "Only one problem though, can you go get Shigaraki? We need to have a group meeting"

After a few minutes, everyone who had worked on the operation had gathered at their usual dining hall, with each finding their own seat at the round table.

"Everything went well with the family." After everyone had settled in, Keigo began immediately, fingers interlaced over the single file folder resting in front of him.

"But one of my subordinates is a little too close for comfort." Keigo states, instantly gaining the others' attention.

"What's his name?" Shigaraki questioned.

"Actually, it's a woman." he opens the folder, and pulls out a headshot photo.

"Her name is Miyasaki Y/N, she's the Assistant Inspector."

"A woman cop?" Touya reached for the photo then let out a snort at the subtle smile and short haircut she sported.

"So there's no problem then?" he chuckled, throwing the photo across the table for the others to see, clearly uninterested.

"Shut up Touya, you could probably get your ass kicked by this girl." Himiko quipped, earning a sharp glare from the other boy.

"I swear to god you psycho bitch, I'm gonna—" he shifts in his seat, calling out the girl, knowing full well that the mean name would provoke her.

Just as he was about to continue to prove that no girl could possibly kick his ass, he's thoroughly cut off.

"stop bickering this is serious." Keigo interrupted. "Girl cop or not, she's a threat." he declares.

He looks at them one by one and rests a brief glance at Tomura, their leader nods at him to continue. Keigo sighs, aware that he has to set the context for the rest of the group.

He had been given this role by Tomura directly so not everyone knew just what he was doing at the station or just how important his role was in their whole framework.

"she wasn't supposed to be the one who would get the police tip."

Keigo expels a deep breath, screwing his eyes shut.

"It was supposed to be her direct senior, the only other female Inspector in the agency, she usually does overtime with Miyasaki, but she changed her schedule tonight. I don't know why." again, Keigo sighs. This time, he's slouched on the dining chair, gently massaging the bridge of his nose.

The silence that follows only aggravated his frustration with himself.

He had been counting on Usagiyama Rumi, the agency's female Inspector, who he had been assigned to follow for the past few weeks.

She had the same routine ever since he "started" at the agency—time in at 7:00 am, attend meetings and facilitate cold opens throughout the day, follow-up on interrogations or meet victim's relatives and finally, time-out at midnight.

He wasn't counting on this assistant Inspector, she was an outlier, he didn't pay much attention to her other than the times that they'd cross paths at the cafeteria or when they'd get things from their adjacent locker units. He was working in the patrol and public safety unit, she was busy with comms and records-keeping.

Nonetheless, he did know everyone's business in the agency—even if he wasn't exactly tailing each and every one of them.

He knows the case assignments, he knows who had called in late and he knows why and he even knows how their chief liked his coffee down to the number of espresso shots and percentage of sugar.

"This girl is relentless." He presses on. "I've observed her at the agency—she dedicates herself to everything she does, it's borderline obsessive, even if it is something small and unimportant" he adds the latter as an afterthought, suddenly aware of all those times she stayed overtime.

"I don't like the idea of someone like that sniffing around where we don't want them to."

On his own, he just concluded that she did overtime because she wanted to kiss ass—especially given the kind of rumours going on about her, but it only dawned on him now that perhaps she was more dedicated to the job than others painted her out to be.

"Keigo's right." Kurogiri chimed in. "We should do something about her."

Silence fell for a beat, until it stretched on for a few minutes.

Everyone had exchanged glances, they knew that after Kurogiri, their leader had to have the final say.

"I agree," finally Tomura declares.

He stands up and proceeds to stand by the French window, parting open the satin drapes.

"It's time for modifications before starting phase 2.2."

"Find out why Usagiyama broke her routine. Enlist the others' help on this if you need more hands on comms." Tomura spares a glance at Magne and Spinner, at which the two people reply with nods.

"As for this new player..." their leader trails off, returning back to look at their garden and the approaching dawn.

Expectant, Keigo awaits his next orders. "I want you to keep an eye on her at the station. make sure she stays out of the way, try and befriend her if anything, I need you to throw her off our scent, okay?"

"Got it." the undercover member nods, rising from his seat.

The others follow suit, but Tomura gives follow-up instructions that stops them where they stood.

"Kurogiri, take over my 10:00 today." he announces, immediately piquing everyone's interest "Take Himiko and Jin, you'll need the extra eyes for surveillance."

After the three echo their assent, Tomura clears them, including Keigo, to leave, He adds a few reminders for Magne and Spinner to follow-up on their contracts with their current suppliers, experts and other assets before finally dismissing the two of them as well as Atsuhiro.

singled out, Touya stands by the doorway, intrigued.

"Dabi," he calls Touya by his alias, turning around to face him he then closes the distance between the two of them within five quick strides.

"I want you to pay a visit to that poor girl, make sure she's on bed rest," his voice strong and amplified by the domed ceiling and marble flooring. Touya nods. "I'll see which hospital admitted her," and moves to leave the room.

Not missing a beat. Tomura places a hand over his shoulder just as he was in the process of doing an about-turn.

"I wasn't referring to Miss. Yua.