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#and every victim of crime in this state and city

steveyockey · 5 months

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Measuring purely by confirmed kills, the worst mass murderer ever executed by the United States was the white supremacist terrorist Timothy McVeigh. On April 19, 1995, McVeigh detonated a massive bomb at the Murrah federal building in Oklahoma City, killing 168 people, including 19 children. The government killed McVeigh by lethal injection in June 2001. Whatever hesitation a state execution provokes, even over a man such as McVeigh — necessary questions about the legitimacy of killing even an unrepentant soldier of white supremacy — his death provided a measure of closure to the mother of one of his victims. “It’s a period at the end of a sentence,” said Kathleen Treanor, whose 4-year old McVeigh killed.

McVeigh, who in his own psychotic way thought he was saving America, never remotely killed on the scale of Kissinger, the most revered American grand strategist of the second half of the 20th century.

The Yale University historian Greg Grandin, author of the biography Kissinger’s Shadow, estimates that Kissinger’s actions from 1969 through 1976, a period of eight brief years when Kissinger made Richard Nixon’s and then Gerald Ford’s foreign policy as national security adviser and secretary of state, meant the end of between three and four million people. That includes “crimes of commission,” he explained, as in Cambodia and Chile, and omission, like greenlighting Indonesia’s bloodshed in East Timor; Pakistan’s bloodshed in Bangladesh; and the inauguration of an American tradition of using and then abandoning the Kurds.

No infamy will find Kissinger on a day like today. Instead, in a demonstration of why he was able to kill so many people and get away with it, the day of his passage will be a solemn one in Congress and — shamefully, since Kissinger had reporters like CBS’ Marvin Kalb and The New York Times’ Hendrick Smith wiretapped — newsrooms. Kissinger, a refugee from the Nazis who became a pedigreed member of the “Eastern Establishment” Nixon hated, was a practitioner of American greatness, and so the press lionized him as the cold-blooded genius who restored America’s prestige from the agony of Vietnam.

Not once in the half-century that followed Kissinger’s departure from power did the millions the United States killed matter for his reputation, except to confirm a ruthlessness that pundits occasionally find thrilling. America, like every empire, champions its state murderers. The only time I was ever in the same room as Henry Kissinger was at a 2015 national-security conference at West Point. He was surrounded by fawning Army officers and ex-officials basking in the presence of a statesman.

#THANK YOU ACKERMAN VERY COOL #worth reading the whole thing obviously

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astrophileous · 1 year

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A Well-Kept Secret

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Synopsis: While working on a case in D.C., Spencer didn't expect to hear a familiar name being mentioned as the sole surviving witness. Or, in which the team discovers Spencer's well-kept secret.

Warning(s): established secret relationship, mentions and/or depictions of death/physical violence/gun violence/injury/attack, signs of trauma, survivor's guilt, curse words, hurt/comfort, nudity but it's not sexual, allusions to sexy times, mentions/implied alcohol consumption

Word Count: 5900-ish

Author's Note: hiya! I decided to write this lil piece after seeing the fic challenge posted by @imagining-in-the-margins abt the family/found family trope. I had a lotta fun writing this one and I think it's got potential to be something more. So pls comment or message me if you wanna see me exploring with this idea (either turning it into a series of connected one-shots or multi-parters). Don't forget to like/comment/reblog and give me a follow :) I hope you enjoy! 💞

Criminal Minds Masterlist

When Hotch had notified the team to haul their asses up and drove all the way to D.C., Spencer never expected that it would also entail him having to suffer through a mini heart attack.

The series of attacks around D.C. had been dominating the 6 PM news segments in the entire country. What was initially perceived as a suspected sequence of robberies gone wrong--since the first two targets to have been hit were a bank and a prestigious auction house--soon turned into a nationwide panic as people realized that there was a bigger game at play.

After the third attack was found to have occurred in the headquarters of one of the top, up-and-coming renewable energy startups in the states, the D.C. police finally started to entertain the idea that perhaps they hadn't been dealing with their usual petty robbers at all.

And naturally, that was when the BAU had been called in.

As soon as the team entered the Metropolitan PD bullpen, they were struck with the smell of panic and the sight of chaos.

"Agent Hotchner?" A middle-aged man in a gray shirt and blue tie appeared in front of them. "My name is Detective Mills, we spoke on the phone."

"Of course, Detective." Hotch shook the other man's hand. "This is my team. Agent Prentiss, Jareau, and Dr. Reid. I have two others already at the latest crime scene. What can you tell us so far?"

"As you can see--" Detective Mills gestured towards the frenzied scene behind him, "--the entire D.C. area is going haywire after news broke out about yesterday's attack. The public is demanding the city to be put on lockdown, and I'm getting pressure from above as well. We received information that nearly half the city has called in sick today."

"A classic response to mass paranoia," Spencer noted.

"Well, paranoia or not, I just want to start getting some answers." Detective Mills began to lead the team further into the bullpen. "I have every pair of hands I could spare in this. If they aren't out there chasing leads, they're here interviewing the victims, friends, and families."

"Any luck so far?" Emily asked.

"Nothing more than what you've probably seen in the files."

Detective Mills pushed open the door to an office in the corner, away from the havoc in the center of the station.

"Lieutenant Jeffreys retired a couple of weeks ago. The lucky bastard." Detective Mills scoffed jokingly. "It's the most decent space I can spare at the moment. Think you'll be fine in here?"

"It's more than enough, Detective. Thank you," Hotch replied.

"What about the witnesses from yesterday's attack? Have you had the chance to interview them?" JJ asked as the rest of the team started setting up.

"Some of my men are with them right now. But I doubt they'll have anything useful. Just like the other two cases, the attack happened while most of the office was out. The rest left behind were DOA at the latest scene."

"They're rapidly devolving," Spencer pondered out loud as he skimmed over the case files. "They went from killing a non-compliant security guard during the first attack to executing almost every witness in the last one."

JJ raised an eyebrow. "Almost?"

"It says here there is one survivor." Spencer showed the word he had underlined in the case overview to JJ.

"Yes, there is," Detective Mills confirmed. "I had one of my men talk to her. There's not much she could give us. Thing is, she wasn't even supposed to be there."

"What do you mean?" Emily asked.

"She didn't work in that office. She was a consultant who just happened to be visiting. Poor girl's pretty shaken up. She hid in a supply closet the entire time. She was the one who found the bodies and called 911."

"So, the perpetrators never checked the rooms while they were holding the victims hostage?" Hotch questioned.

"Not according to her statement, no. See, I thought it weird myself. Do you have any idea why?"

"Not sure." Hotch hummed, deep in thought. "Perhaps our UnSubs didn't think to check because they didn't know someone was in there. Detective, you said all of the victims were the only employees of the company who didn't attend the event downtown, correct?"

"Yeah, they were the only ones who weren't listed as attendees. Why? Do you think those people were specifically targeted?"

"Unfortunately, we can't rule out anything yet this early in the investigation," Hotch said. "We need to talk to the witnesses to know more. JJ?"

"On it." JJ nodded. "What can you tell us about yesterday's sole survivor, Detective?"

"Not much. I didn't interview her personally, one of my men did. She works at a consulting engineering firm in town," Detective Mills replied. "I believe her name is... what is it called?"

When Detective Mills mentioned the name, Spencer's heart instantly crashed inside of its cage.

"What?" His hand had stopped scribbling on the board. In a matter of miliseconds, Spencer had crossed the room towards the doorway where Detective Mills was standing. "What did you say her name was?"

Dumbfounded, the detective stared at a dread-stricken Spencer before spelling out the name once more.

"Why? What's wrong?" Detective Mills asked in confusion.

JJ touched Spencer's shoulder. "Hey, you okay?"

But Spencer, either too alarmed or merely choosing not to acknowledge both questions, asked instead, "Where is she? I need to see her."

"In the waiting room by the pantry--"

Spencer didn't even wait for Detective Mills to form his complete thought before dashing out. JJ exchanged a glance with Emily following Spencer's sudden exit, perplexed by his odd turn of behavior.

"I'll go get him," JJ announced before leaving the room, chasing after a flurry of wavy hair and a wool-knitted purple vest sprinting across the bullpen.

The roaring commotion inside the station was almost loud enough to rival the intensity of your racing thoughts.

Almost.

At this point, you didn't think there was anything you could do anymore. The vivid images from yesterday's attack were playing continuously in your head. There was nothing you could do to stop them.

Rubbing your eyes from exhaustion, you mourned the loss of sleep that you failed to get the previous night. As if the waking nightmares weren't torment enough, the images had somehow translated even more cruelly into your subconscious. You could barely close your eyes for three seconds without feeling like you had been brought back to that place.

Cold, cramped, and alone. Fearing for your life in the tiny supply closet that smelled more like death than bleach.

At the sound of the door opening, you quickly turned around in your seat to hide your face away from prying eyes. The last thing you needed at that moment was having a complete stranger seeing you fall apart in the middle of a police station.

But when the voice came carrying the sound of your name, it wasn't the voice of a complete stranger you had heard. It was a voice you knew more than you probably knew your own. A voice you loved and a voice you had longed to hear for the past gruesome twenty-four hours.

"Spencer?" You turned back towards the door, seeing the face you adored most in the whole world staring back at you.

"Sweetheart."

At the speed of a lightning, Spencer dropped to his knees in front of you and gathered your broken little pieces into his arms.

Spencer's touch was everywhere. Your hair, your neck, your shoulders. As if he was checking whether you were real. That you were actually there inside his arms, and you were not a simple imagination that his mind had conjured up.

Surrounded by the safety of his embrace, you could feel the shattered pieces of yourself beginning to mend once more.

"Spencer," you uttered his name again as you pulled away, still in disbelief that he was physically there with you.

"I'm here," he promised you as he cupped your face gently.

"Spencer, what are you... How..."

"My team is working your case. We arrived half an hour ago," he explained simply. "Sunshine, why didn't you tell me? I thought you were still in Alaska?"

You had previously apprised Spencer that you would be hard to reach during your trip since you would be spending most of your time at the power plant site where cellphone receptions were scarce. So when an entire day went by without him ever hearing from you, Spencer didn't have any reason to be worried.

Never in a million years would he have ever predicted that you'd be caught in the middle of a hostage situation.

That thought alone caused Spencer to squeeze your hand a little tighter than usual.

"I'm sorry, Spence," you said sincerely. "My trip ended earlier than planned. I arrived back yesterday morning. I actually wanted to surprise you last night. After yesterday's... incident, I wanted to call you, but my phone was shot--"

"Wait, what? You were shot?"

"No! No, baby. Not me. Just my phone," you assured him. "But that's why I couldn't call. I did attempt you once using this station's phone, but it went straight to voicemail."

At the new piece of information, the colors immediately drained from Spencer's face.

"That was you? Fuck. I didn't--I didn't know. I rejected the call because I didn't know it was you."

"Hey." You stopped his guilty rambling with a hand to his cheek. "It's okay. I'm okay. I'm just glad you're here."

And then, because Spencer needed to make sure that you really were okay, he pulled you back into his arms and held you even tighter this time.

"Uh, Spence?"

The sound in the doorway snapped you both out of your mutual reverie. You looked up to see a blonde woman there, staring in an equal mixture of shock and confusion at the sight in front of her.

Spencer begrudgingly untangled himself from your arms before getting up to approach her.

"JJ, do you mind if I do the cognitive for this one?" Spencer asked.

The woman--JJ-- shifted her eyes a few times between you and Spencer. "Um, of course. I'll just go and inform Hotch. Tell us if you need anything."

After JJ's departure, Spencer closed the door again to award you both a much needed privacy.

He grabbed a wooden chair from the corner and dragged it before sitting down right in front of you.

"I need to start the interview now, sweetheart. Think you're up for it?"

Your whole body went rigid for a matter of seconds before you forced it to restart again. It was gone as soon as it came, but Spencer noticed it just the same.

"Look at me," Spencer ordered softly, using his delicate finger to nudge your face up until he was looking straight into your eyes. "I know it's scary. I don't want you to have to relive yesterday either, but it will help us catch whoever did this."

"I've told the police everything I knew yesterday. I was hiding the entire time." Like a coward. "I didn't see anything. I don't have anything else that could help you."

"I know that, sunshine. But as I've told you before, our method is slightly different. We won't be just focusing on what you saw, but also what you smelled, or maybe even heard." Spencer took your hands then, squeezing affectionately. "I'll be here with you the entire time."

The nod you gave him was hesitant, but it was a start nonetheless. You listened intently to Spencer's words and closed your eyes just as he had instructed.

"We'll start at the beginning," you heard him say. "Why don't you tell me why you went there yesterday?"

"I, uh, received a call from my friend, Nick, after my plane landed. We had been communicating back and forth since his company seeked my consultation for one of their upcoming projects," you began. "I wasn't even supposed to work because I had requested the day off. But Nick said it didn't have to be a formal meeting, so I agreed to meet him."

"Tell me what you remember after arriving at the office."

Your mind traveled back to that specific time one day prior. You remembered walking into the place and seeing its unusual state of vacancy even though there was still a good half an hour left before lunchtime.

"I just assumed everyone had gone to lunch earlier and shrugged it off," you recalled.

Spencer nodded his head. "Did anything else strike you as out of the ordinary?"

"No? I don't... I don't know. It was only my second time being there, I'm not sure what was normal and what wasn't."

"Okay. That's okay. You're doing good so far, sweetheart," Spencer quickly interjected, trying to get you to calm down before your distress could turn into a full-blown panic. "Now, what did you do next?"

"I followed Nick into his office."

Nick was keeping his promise true. It hadn't felt like a formal meeting, just two old college buddies reminiscing about the past and discussing possibilities of the future that, of course, included the company's upcoming project which you would be working on with him.

"I excused myself to the bathroom at some point," you added. "When I first heard the commotion, I thought nothing of it. It's like the idea that a group full of armed men had taken over the building didn't even cross my mind. I mean, why would it? I was on my way back to Nick's office when I saw them."

You recalled turning a corner after exiting the bathroom only to see those figures carrying machine guns and shouting at everyone to get on their knees or put their hands above their heads. You remembered sprinting the way you had come from and opening the first door you could reach that just happened to be the supply closet.

"Let's go back to the moment you saw them," Spencer urged gently. "How many people were there? Do you remember any conspicuous detail? Maybe one of them had tattoos or spoke with an accent. Anything that distinguished them."

Taking a deep breath, you tried replaying those crucial seconds slowly in your head.

"There were four of them. I couldn't see much. They were all wearing identical black clothes."

Suddenly, an unexpected piece of memory rushed to the front of your mind. You opened your eyes in shock, meeting Spencer's curious gaze that had been kept intently on you the entire time.

"I think at least one of them is a woman," you told him.

Spencer's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Are you sure?"

"One of the guys said something about... fucking this place up. And then she laughed. I heard her. It was definitely a female laugh."

"Good. That's good."

"Yeah? Do you think it'll help?"

Spencer nodded assuredly, bringing his hand to leave calming strokes on your head. "I know it will. You've done a great job, sweetheart. I'm proud of you."

The praise Spencer gave eased the tension in your shoulders. As if having been granted fresh air after decades of confinement, you were finally able to let yourself breathe again.

Spencer continued his loving strokes on your head. Little by little, the weight of his touch melted the resolve you had built into a pathetic puddle on the floor. Without its mental shield protecting you, your tears sped forward, gathering in your eyes until they spilled on the vast path down your cheeks.

"Hey, hey." Spencer's voice was laden with panic after seeing you start to cry. "Sunshine, what is it? What's wrong? Talk to me."

"I-I just... God." You struggled to get the words out in between sobs. "I'm a coward, Spencer."

"What?"

"All of those people... They died because I was a fucking coward."

Your admission tore into the air before stabbing Spencer right through his chest.

"Sweetheart, you know that's not true."

"But it is!" you cried out, pulling away from Spencer's grounding hold around your shaking body in favor of your own arms. "I was a coward. I ran and hid because I was too scared to die. Too scared to fight. If I had just tried a little harder, I could've called for help. That way, maybe all of those people wouldn't... And Nick wouldn't..."

A haunting image flashed behind your eyes. The image of Nick's limp and lifeless body on the floor, among those of the others. You remembered crying next to him, punching his chest, body, and arm despite having seen the gunshot wound on his forehead. It took you another five minutes before you eventually managed to gather yourself together, found a phone, and dialed 911.

Not that it made any difference. They were all already dead.

Spencer could hear his heart breaking at the sight of you curling into yourself, recoiling from his touch because you somehow believed you didn't deserve his affection at that moment. If Spencer could just transfer all of your pain towards him, he would. Seeing you beat yourself up that way over something that happened and was done to you was the worst kind of torture he ever had to endure in life.

And Spencer had been through more kinds of torture than the general population in the world.

Deciding that he had seen enough of your self-deprecating torment, he reclaimed your hands inside of his palms and urged you to look at him.

"Are you hearing yourself right now?" Spencer asked incredulously. "How can you even think that way? Sweetheart, what happened to those people, to Nick, it is not your fault."

"B-but, if I hadn't run away--"

"Then you would've died, too," he cut you off. "Sunshine, there were four of them with machine guns. No one stood a single chance against them. Those people were there to kill. There was nothing you could've done."

It was a hard pill to swallow, but Spencer needed you to hear it.

He needed you to know the truth no matter how unacceptable it was.

"If you hadn't hid from them, we would've found seven bodies there instead of six. And I--" Spencer took a shuddering breath, "--I would've lost you."

Your shoulders deflated at his revelation. "Spence--"

"So please--" he searched your eyes then, using his thumb to sweep away the remaining tears under your eyes, "--stop holding yourself accountable. I promise I will do everything I can to find those people and make them pay for what they did."

Spencer's vow triggered a new wave of tears that compelled you to sink into his awaiting arms. He let you stay there until you had cried your tears dry. It was something he also secretly needed for himself after suffering through the short-lived horror over the mention of your name in relation to the heinous case. He just needed to make sure that you were okay.

A few minutes passed by with you in his arms. Eventually, Spencer had to tear himself away to finish his job. He asked you to wait as he wrapped up the transcript of your cognitive interview, along with his professional report over it.

"I need to run somewhere real quick. I promise to be back in a couple of hours," he notified JJ as he handed her the interview report. "Tell Hotch for me? Thanks."

Without waiting for his friend's reply, Spencer rushed back to the waiting room before leading you out to take you home.

Back at your apartment, Spencer guided you towards the direction of your bathroom as soon as you had stepped into the threshold.

"Are you trying to get me naked, Spencer?" you remarked playfully after he refused to let you take your clothes off yourself.

"Yes." The gleaming mischief in your eyes caused him to flick your nose lightly. "Just to get you ready for your bath. Get your head straight, will you?"

You scoffed at his back as he turned around to check the water temperature in the tub.

Once you were submerged safely inside, Spencer left the bathroom to give you some privacy. Meanwhile, he began rummaging through your drawers to pull out a change of clothes, a towel, and a clean sheet for your bed.

By the time you exited, Spencer had changed your bedsheets and lit one of your favorite candles on the bedside table. He asked you to sit down on the bed as he kneeled before you, helping you put on the pajamas he had picked out with little prints of sunflowers on them.

None of Spencer's touches were sexual. They swept over your skin with the care of an artist handling their most precious work. When his eyes found yours, you swore you could almost cry from the intense adoration that seemed to shine so brightly out of them.

As he guided you to lie on the bed, you were surprised to see him following suit. He got under the covers with you, pulling you close to tangle every inch of your limbs with his.

"I love you, Spencer," you admitted to his chest, heart heavy with the deep appreciation and overwhelming affection for the man beside you.

Spencer looked down at your confession, finding his favorite pair of eyes already looking earnestly at him. Instinctively, he reached for your chin with his fingers, tugging your face upward until he could capture your lips with his.

The kiss was slow. Careful. Filled with silent promises and discreet reassurances. When you both parted, Spencer didn't pull himself away. Instead, he let his forehead touch yours while his eyes stayed closed.

"Will you be here when I wake up?" you asked quietly.

"Yes, sweetheart. Now go to sleep."

Although the two of you knew his answer was a lie, you both chose to pretend otherwise. You knew Spencer still had responsibilities to fulfill, along with a promise to you that he intended to keep. You knew that when you woke up later that evening, Spencer would already be long gone, and you would be forced to bask in the traces of himself that he had left behind.

But for now, Spencer was still there, in the comfort of your bedroom, lying on the bed next to you. And that knowledge alone was good enough for you to finally drift further into the land of sleep, surrounded by the warmth of Spencer's loving embrace.

"I'm telling you," JJ insisted, looking at her entire team minus Spencer and Hotch. "There was definitely something going on between them. Why else would he request to take over the cognitive for me?"

"Maybe he was feeling generous," Rossi deadpanned, earning an unimpressed glare from JJ.

It had been a full week since the BAU team had arrived in D.C. to investigate the series of gun attacks in the city. Just the day prior, they had successfully made their fourth arrest, bringing this case to yet another satisfying conclusion in the eye of justice.

If nothing else was amiss, they should have been on their way back to Quantico in less than an hour. In the meantime, though, JJ felt obliged to gather her team members in the middle of the bullpen to share her suspicion about a certain scene she had accidentally caught on their first day working the case.

"Pretty boy did seem more emotionally involved in this case than he usually does, though," Derek pointed out.

"Right? Right?" JJ replied almost too enthusiastically. "Come on, aren't you guys at least half as curious as I am about who this mystery girl might be? Don't you wanna try finding out who she is while we're still here?"

They all stared at each other in hesitation.

"Or, we could just ask Spencer directly and let him explain?" Emily suggested, receiving incredulous looks from the other three in response. "Yeah, you're right. What did you say her name was again?"

"I don't remember," JJ answered.

"It must be listed in the files somewhere, right?" Derek immediately sprung into action, reaching towards the scattered case files that might contain the name they were looking for.

"Just to be clear, I am not taking any part in this." Rossi sighed.

"Got it!" Derek waved the offending file in hand, giving it to JJ, who instantly began skimming over it.

"Alright. Says here that her name is..."

JJ read the name aloud when unexpectedly, an answering sound sprouted from behind them.

"Yes?"

Every single one of them turned in shock at your voice. You smiled at their wide-eyed expressions, waving your hand a little awkwardly in the air.

"You!" JJ exclaimed.

"Me?"

Emily nudged JJ in the ribs, making the blonde woman wince.

"Y-you're the witness from the startup case, right?" JJ said, trying to rectify the situation.

"That's me."

"What can we do for you, Miss?" Rossi asked, stepping forward and away from the rest of the group.

"I'm actually looking for Spencer. Do you know where he might be?"

"Spencer Reid? You know Reid?" Emily asked.

Before you had the chance to reply, the man in question came strolling into the bullpen, rambling animatedly to Hotch who was walking beside him. The moment Spencer caught sight of you, though, he immediately abandoned Hotch's side and rushed towards where you were standing.

"Hey, what are you doing here?"

"Looking for you, of course," you told him, fitting yourself easily into Spencer's side as his arm went around your waist. "Hi, Hotch."

The older man called your name in greeting. "I got your message. You wanted to talk to me?"

"I wanted to ask you--well, all of you, actually--" you glanced around at the other team members, "--if maybe you all would let me treat you to lunch? As a thank you for your hard work on the case."

Hotch nodded in response. "It's fine with me. We don't have to be back until tonight, anyway. Everyone?"

Instead of replying to your offer, Emily voiced aloud the question that was circling everyone's mind.

"You know her?" Emily looked at Hotch before dragging her eyes away towards you. "And you know him? You know each other? How?"

You gazed up at Spencer's eyes, seeing them shining with the same mirth as the one you felt dancing in your stomach.

"I guess this is supposed to be the part where I introduce myself, isn't it?" You chuckled.

Extending your palm, you shook each of their hands while telling them your name, them responding back with theirs even though you already knew who was who long before you had even met them.

"I still don't understand," JJ admitted after you finished shaking her hand. "How did you know Spencer and Hotch?"

Once again, you looked into Spencer's eyes, a question bouncing around in yours. Spencer's nod of affirmation was the only go-ahead you needed.

It's time.

"I'm Spencer's girlfriend."

"She's my wife."

You turned your head towards Spencer in shock.

In front of you, Spencer's teammates were causing an uproar.

"Wait, what?" Emily stared dumbfoundedly.

"You have a girlfriend?" Derek asked in disbelief.

"You're married?!" JJ shrieked.

"Hold on a second," Rossi interjected, holding his palms out as if to tell everyone to stand down and calm themselves. "So which one is it? Girlfriend or wife?"

And that was how you found yourself sitting in the private VIP room of your favorite restaurant in the city with some of Spencer's closest people on earth.

"That's the craziest story I've ever heard," Emily pondered in astonishment.

Rossi, Derek, and JJ were all wearing an identical look on each of their faces after hearing the story of how you and Spencer met: by drunkenly getting married in Vegas after only knowing each other for barely one night when you both weren't even twenty-two yet.

"If someone were to tell me yesterday that there's another member of this team who also went to get married while drunk in Vegas, I would have never even thought of mentioning Spencer's name," JJ mused.

At your curious expression, Spencer explained, "Rossi also got drunkenly married in Vegas to his third ex-wife,"

"Why didn't you two get a divorce?" Emily suddenly asked.

It was something that everyone who knew about your situation with Spencer had questioned at one point or another. The real answer was because you and Spencer had both been reluctant to go through the nasty and lengthy legal process of getting a divorce. Therefore, you decided to part ways without doing anything about it, vowing to only track each other down if one of you ever needed to end the bond because of another impending marriage or any other urgent matter.

But that reason alone was usually not enough to appease people's curiosity. And over the years, you and Spencer had poked fun over that particular fact by coming up with the most outrageous lie you could muster up.

"She wanted to get a divorce," Spencer fabricated smoothly. "I persuaded her otherwise because I had this inkling that someday we were gonna fall in love."

Usually, any other people would coo sweetly at Spencer's statememt.

But these weren't any other people. These people were Spencer's family in more ways except flesh and blood, and even without their profiling skills, you knew they could see right through Spencer's little deception.

"That sounds like bullshit to me. Doesn't that sound like bullshit to you?" Emily asked, turning to JJ for support.

"Yeah, that was bullshit, alright," JJ claimed vehemently, prompting an innocent-looking grin from Spencer and a series of chuckles from everyone else.

"When did you two start dating, then?" Rossi spoke up from one end of the table.

"About two years after Vegas, right?" you estimated, to which Spencer nodded in confirmation. "He strolled into my place of work while he was on a case, and then he asked me out."

Derek sat up on his seat after hearing the new information. "Wait, when was this? Why didn't I know about this?"

"The beginning of my second year in the BAU," Spencer offered. "Elle knew."

"Elle? Elle Greenway? You told Elle but not me?" Derek looked offended.

Spender shrugged nonchalantly. "Elle was assigned with me that day."

"Unbelievable." Derek slumped back down in his chair. "Penelope is gonna freak when she finds out what she missed today."

"Penelope? Oh, she already knows," you told him.

That revelation earned a collective disbelief look across the entire table.

"Yeah... I, uh," you cleared your throat, "I actually just went shopping with her two weeks ago."

"You've got to be kidding me," Emily muttered.

"You told Penelope but not me?" Derek sounded hurt as he pointed his accusatory stare at Spencer. "You even told Hotch!"

"I didn't tell Garcia. She dug through my history and found it out herself. Had to bribe her with candies and chocolates for a whole month to keep her quiet," Spencer grumbled. "And I had to tell Hotch. We needed to add her number to my emergency contact list."

Despite Spencer's concise explanation, Derek still seemed unsatisfied by the whole ordeal.

"How long have you known?" he finally decided to ask Hotch.

"A while," the man answered from his seat at the opposite end of the table from Rossi. "They even babysat Jack a few times for me."

"I don't believe this," Derek scowled. "Pretty boy's got himself a girl for the last six years, and I never knew? Outrageous."

"Technically, we've been married even longer than that," Spencer responded, as if he was unaware of the imminent glower that Derek was sending his way. "Eight years since Vegas."

"That's longer than any of my marriage," Rossi remarked before sipping his drink.

The laugh that resonated upon Rossi's little comment elicited an affectionate smile on your lips.

"So, you live in D.C., then?" JJ asked, at last stirring the conversation away from the topic of your and Spencer's secret marriage-slash-relationship.

"I do, yeah. But most of the time, I live out of my suitcase," you answered. "My firm has clients all over the country. A few overseas, as well. I'm lucky if I even get to have an entire week to sleep uninterrupted in my own bed."

Even then, you truthfully quite enjoyed the work you had to do. You didn't mind having to travel some place new every other week. In fact, you somehow believed that your constant need to travel for your job, and Spencer for his, was one of the reasons why the two of you worked so well together.

Although people might think that two adults who had to travel for a living were a recipe for a disastrous relationship, you and Spencer had so far proven otherwise. Because of your respective schedules, you could sympathize more with the other anytime they had to go somewhere urgent for work. It only made you savor every single second you spent together because of how much precious each one of them became.

The rest of lunch unraveled with the same bucket of smiles, jokes, and laughter. It felt good to finally tell the few people who meant the world in Spencer's life the truth about your relationship. It was also a huge relief to see them opening their arms and welcoming you into the family without an ounce of hesitation.

"Hotch?" Spencer called out after everyone exited the restaurant. "Will it be okay if I stay in the city for one more night?"

"As long as you promise to be back for tomorrow's briefing," Hotch reminded sternly, but the meaningful look he passed over you before he entered his vehicle spoke of a thousand things left unsaid.

"It was so nice meeting you," JJ said as she took you in her arms. "And I'm sorry again about your friend."

"Thank you. And thanks for all of your hard work in catching those guys."

"Of course, it's what we do." JJ smiled as she pulled away. "Invite me and Emily the next time you and Penelope hang out, okay?"

"Will do," you promised.

You watched as every single one of them scrambled into the two black SUVs, waving your goodbye until the cars drove out of your sight.

"I think that went well," you commented before looking up at Spencer. "Do you?"

"I think it went as well as it could."

"So--" you began, circling your arms around Spencer's neck, "--we have more than twelve hours until you're expected back at Quantico. What do you wanna do?"

Spencer nudged your nose with his. "I can think of a few activities we can partake in."

"Really?"

"Really."

Just as he was a hairbreadth away from pressing his lips to yours, you suddenly tore yourself out of Spencer's arms.

"Like getting some frozen yogurts?" you asked giddily, smirking at the dumbfounded look that you managed to put on Spencer's face.

"Fine. Let's go get some frozen yogurts."

Spencer had to hide his amused grin at your elated squeals. He was more than content at that moment to let you produce those addictive sounds at the mere prospect of frozen yogurts.

But later that night, he had a whole different set of activities lined up to pull those same sounds out of you once more.

And it might or might not potentially involve an entirely different yet creative use of frozen yogurts as well.

Spencer simply just hadn't decided yet.

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strawbeerossi · 7 months

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Tiny Dancer

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: After Spencer meets you while you are on an undercover mission, it isn’t long until you two get to know each other. After your first date together, you give him a few lessons.

Content/Warnings: Awkward Spencer, strip club, minor case matter, lap dancing, cumming in pants.

Word Count: 2.8K

Kinktober Day Nineteen: Lingerie

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

This is my least favorite fic. I apologize in advance.

“Are we sure this is a good idea?” Emily asked, gazing at the front of the strip club where Aaron was smoothening out his suit jacket and glancing at her and Spence.. “One million percent. Don’t get too distracted here. I have a friend who is in sex crimes working undercover to catch someone who is taking advantage of strippers and call girls. She agreed to meet us but you have to be prepared for the way she’s going to talk to us. It’s not going to be a traditional interview.”

The two agents looked between each other in confusion. What did he mean by that? Regardless, they both walked inside the not too busy club. This was a more upscale place, one of the strip clubs that kept the high paying men of the city anonymous, able to enjoy the likes of a the establishment without someone going back and telling wives, girlfriends, or employers. The safety due to the membership only status worked out in their favor, only having to flash their badges and mentioning they needed to scope out the place before they were let inside.

Once in the dimly lit building, Aaron’s gaze was scanning the room before his eyes landed just on the undercover agent they were looking for. You had gotten the hint he was here to see you, so you were moving away from the man you were currently talking to before twirling your hair around your finger. “Hi sweetheart. Looking for a dance today?” You asked sweetly, glancing back at the other agents who were waiting as well.

“Yes. My friends and I woulda actually like to ask for a private dance. Is that something we could do?” Your gaze lingered on one particular agent; Spencer Reid. He was a living legend around the FBI due to his intellect, of course you’d heard about him around the office. “I charge extra for groups.” You added soon after, which you were leading the three agents back to the safety of the private room while you closed the door. “I really wish you would text me before you do something like this.” You scolded Aaron while holding a hand out to take the money he was getting out of his wallet. The cameras in the room made it hard to have a normal conversation, you having to play along to the private dance fantasy.

After pushing the bills into the babydoll lingerie top, you were going to the pole in the middle of the room. “I know. However this is an emergency that I didn’t plan for. One of our victims worked here. Her name was Amanda Raymond. What can you tell us about her?” Aaron stated as if there wasn’t a half naked woman in the room that had Spencer’s face bright red and Emily practically drooling at the sight.

“Mandy?” You asked, smile faltering hearing about how your missing friend was in fact dead. “She was a sweet girl. I mean, she worked damn near every night to support her son.” Your leg hooked around the pole as you did a spin around it, ultimately moving away. “She hasn’t left with anyone that I know of. I mean she had some sketchy regulars but I can get you their information,” You shrugged, moving to straddle Emily’s lap while laughing at her reaction. “Prentiss, stay focused.” You’d teased, smiling as you could feel her soft hands against your hips as she cleared her throat.

“Right, sorry. Anyone in particular that you have both serviced?” She asked, unable to help her gaze over your exposed body. How was she gonna look you in the eye around the office after this?!

“There’s Michael Lewis. He’s actually a deputy on the police force. He’s really violent. He’s left bruises on my arms and hips before whenever security couldn’t get here fast enough.” You’d answered, thinking it over. “And Trevor Brown, a college professor who likes to try and take every dancer home,” You responded, laughing a bit as the raven haired woman was pushing a twenty in your lingerie top before you were moving to Spencer.

He looked like he was gonna pass out the minute you were bending down in front of him, continuing on with your dance routine as you let your hips play with some rock song playing over the speakers of the private room. “Y-you-“ Spencer was bright red, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he clutched the arm of the leather sofa. The outfit left very little to the imagination. “I’m sorry.” He squeaked while his eyes were diverting their gaze from your ass perched in his face. “You said that they’ve t-touched you, I can assume it was insitent?” Spencer asked, his own hands itching to touch your soft skin. “Yeah. They weren’t very kind and they were pushy. I’m sure you’ve seen the type on the field. I’m just sure they don’t grab you the way they’ve grabbed me.”

You turned to face Spencer again as your arms loosely draped around his shoulder, your tantalizing hips having Spencer drunk in the moment. The genius would think you were doing this on purpose, almost as if you enjoyed the act of teasing him and rendering him speechless. He had to admit that he was definitely a fan. He just wished his boss and coworker wasn’t with him, this interview would’ve gone just a tad different. “I can give you their information. I’ve had them leave their numbers and some business cards as if I would ever talk to them outside of this job.” You added, your dance coming to an end anyway as you were heading to a stack of cards and such.

The girls had gotten used to tossing any kind of numbers or other things on one of the tables in the room. Sifting through the numbers, you were smiling whenever you came across the two cards. “I really do think they should be watched closely.” You spoke while handing a card to Aaron. Now you were going to tease Spencer more, putting the card between your teeth before heading over to bend in front of him once more, leaning in close so he could retrieve the card.

Due to his germaphobia, he definitely wasn’t taking into his mouth, however he slowly took the car as his honey colored eyes were overshadowed by lust and embarrassment from seeing how much of an effect you had on him. “You three get out of here safely. Don’t call too much attention to yourselves. I’m not saying there is anyone here who could hurt you at the moment but.. Feds around here would terrify the mass amounts of customers who are trying to stay on the downlow.”

The three agents were getting up from the couch as they had gotten all the intel they needed. “Alright. You three keep your heads down.” You spoke while walking them over to open the door. There were a few moments where Spencer was stopped, his gaze on you. “Got a business card you wanna add to our table?” You couldn’t help but tease him, a smirk on your face. “What if I uh..” He was awkwardly reaching in his pocket, getting out a card with his number in it before he caught you off guard, slipping the card into your cleavage. The bold move was overshadowed by his embarrassed little blush, a shaky laugh leaving his lips. “Please don’t put it on the table. I’d rather have you contact me directly.” He said softly, only glancing back when he could hear Emily calling his name. “We gotta go but.. Call me?”

“You got it, Dr. Reid. Go save some lives.” You grinned, waving him off as you were walking out of the private room again to get right back to your post.

After that, the BAU did what they did best. They caught the man on a murderous rampage against sex workers, his view of them as being dirty and deserving the release of death to forgive them of their sins. Which you never understood but hey, you weren’t a psychopath so it made sense why you didn’t understand.

You’d been texting Spencer throughout the week, mostly just small talk while his awkwardness and shyness translated to messages as well. You found it endearing. He was a charming man who did have a small confidence issue but you were happy to tell him just how attractive he was and help the best you can to boost that confidence without making his ego inflating too much. You’d both agreed to meet up for coffee on a Sunday morning, the both of you meeting at a small cafe in DC.

“I’m glad you came. I was nervous you wouldn’t.” Spencer admitted as you were sitting at one of the outdoor tables with him, a smile on your face as you sipped from the cup in your hand. “Why wouldn’t I come? I’ve liked talking to you! It’s been an honor to get to know you, honestly. I mean, you’re very well known around the FBI as a whole so actually meeting you is nice rather than just hearing about you.”

The words had him blushing, hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I’m just not used to asking anyone out. Which I mean, if you don’t want this to be considered that I understand.” He spoke while you were letting one hand gently pat his hand resting against the table.

“Well. You did a great job asking me! I also have to say that I don’t want this to end early. How about we go back to my apartment? I know how much you love Doctor Who and I have the whole classic series! I like the earliest seasons but I am willing to watch what you want.” You added with a smile, Spencer not daring to turn it down as you were pushing themselves to stand. Thankfully, the walk to your apartment wasn’t too long considering you lived only a couple blocks away from the cafe. After leading Spencer upstairs and unlocking the wooden door, he broke the threshold and headed inside right behind you, his hand moving to gently close the door behind you both. “You have a really nice place.” He’d commented.

It smelled like vanilla, the atmosphere being welcoming and so inviting that he had no problem towing off his shoes at the doorway before making himself comfortable as you were going for the case that held all the classic films and shows you had taken a liking to. “Here we go. Should we start with season one?” You asked, although you both didn’t share any confirmation as you were popping the disk in. After getting the remote, you were hurrying to leap onto the couch beside Spencer, the both of you laughing as you were crossing your legs to get comfortable.

The binge-watching had gone pretty standard, your body leaning comfortably against Spencer’s while your cheek was against his shoulder, his arm wrapped loosely around your shoulders. Despite his dislike for most human contact, he had to admit that he liked sitting like this with you. It helped that your body was warm against his. The contact was oddly intimate — At least to Spencer.

It was well established in the past that this guy doesn’t know how to go slow. So as you were so engrossed in the first season of your show, he was too busy thinking of the future opportunities of you both sitting on the couch like this and enjoying each other’s presence. “Can I ask you a question?” His voice finally spoke up as he glanced at you, your head lifting from his shoulder. “Yeah. Go ahead!” You offered a smile. “How long have you been doing undercover work at the uh.. You know.” He asked, eyes gleaming with curiosity.

“Well. I was just assigned to do it. I took pole dancing classes in college with a few friends. It’s actually a really good workout and I enjoy doing it. I just wish it wasn’t in front of a crowd.”

You answered honestly. It wasn’t something that you ever pictured yourself doing, however you were happy to catch sick fuckers that occupied the place. “Wait. They have classes?” The male asked, the hobby piquing his intrigue in the subject. “Yes! Why, want me to give you a lesson?” You joked while offering a smile. “I can teach you how to do a lap dance. I’ve already given you one so I don’t think it’ll be awkward. Right?”

Hell no it would not.

“I don’t- I don’t think so!” His voice squeaked as you were moving to stand with a smile. “Perfect! Don’t worry, you can touch me this time. No need to be freaked out.” You teased, hand retrieving the tv remote to get the screen turned off. You had moved to playfully toss your hair around, acting as if you had to gussy yourself up for the part. “Let me put on a costume. I feel like I need to do this perfectly.”

Which you disappeared for ten minutes, finding a silk purple negligee with lace stockings. You may have been overembellishing just a tad, however you wouldn’t mind Spencer putting his hands on you in any way he chose. Whenever you were coming back to the living room, your hands were on your hips as you sauntered to the couch. When the male’s eyes fell on you, he felt the wind get knocked out of him. This wasn’t at all what he was expecting. “What do you think?” You asked, doing a turn while grinning. “I was gonna put on some heels but I felt like that would be overkill.”

“I think you look stunning.”

“Flattery will get you absolutely everywhere, Dr. Reid.” You smirked, hand retrieving your phone as you were searching for a suitable song for the occasion.

As you’d landed on an old school rock song, it wasn’t long until you were dragging your hands up your body, watching as the agent in front of you was giving you his full divided attention. As you walked around the couch, your hands were sliding down his chest from behind him. The mere touch had his cock springing to life in his pants, especially when you ran them up his chest and rested a hand under his chin before making his head tilt up to look at you.

After lingering contact and leaning down to press a kiss to his left cheek, you were walking back in front of him again while bending. Your hands were against his knees while you lowered yourself, the angle making your cleavage nearly spill from the silky top of the ensemble and catching his attention. As your touch dragged up his thighs, you couldn’t help but grin at the way his body reacted to the touch. It was like he was so desperate to be touched and he hadn’t had any sort of intimacy like this in a while. Your hands squeezed his inner thighs before you were straddling his lap.

With your hands against his shoulders, you were humming along with the music as your hips rolled down into Spencer’s, the friction against his clothed cock being heavenly. His large hands were quickly moving to your hips, his mouth agape as he watched the intoxicating movements of your hips.

He could remember being jealous of Emily when they talked to you, the way you put on a show for her and gave Spencer hardly anything. This was a hell of a way to make it up to him though. While your hips gyrated against his lap, he was letting his head tilt back against the sofa while letting out a gentle whine. Your movements were overwhelming, hips rocking to stimulate riding his cock so good that it could nearly be considered the real thing.

By the end of the song though, Spencer could feel arousal building up in the pit of his stomach. His heart was beating fast, face red as a thin layer of sweat was collecting on his forehead from how hot he felt in these fucking clothes. What happened next was out of his control, the friction of your hips rubbing him just right as his hands squeezed your hips, a whine of your name slipping out before he could feel his cock twitch in his underwear. The arousal snuck up on him, unable to hold back as he soiled his underwear with cum. You knew all too well what had happened, your hips slowing down as you looked at him with wide eyes.

“Did you just..” You began, blushing as the male was quickly looking away in embarrassment. “I’m sorry! I can’t- I didn’t mean-“ Your hand was what cut him off as it rested gently over his mouth. “You don’t have to apologize.” You said softly while laughing some. “I’m flattered! But I think that we should probably get you cleaned up, don’t you think?”

Spencer didn’t catch on at first, not until your hands were on the button or his slacks. “Y-yeah.” He spoke shyly, lifting his lips in order to help you tug the bottoms down his legs.

“Good boy.”

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anastasiareyreed · 11 months

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russia be like: we did it → Ukraine did it → it happened by itself.

and the world swallows it.

every time someone, sitting thousands of km from Ukraine, in safety and comfort, starts spreading theories in which "not everything is so clear-cut" and "it is not known who is guilty and who is lying", I lose faith in humanity.

nine years ago, russia said that it was not russian troops that invaded Ukraine. today the whole world knows that it was the russians, and the russians do not even deny it anymore.

last year, russia said that it would not launch a full-scale invasion, but we can all see that russia lied. again.

russia justified the invasion by "denazification of Ukrainians", although it is the russians who are known for the phrase "we can repeat" addressing to the Germans in relation to World War II. it is the russians who created the cult of the leader, spread their Z V swastika all over the world and promote the greatness of war.

russia justified the invasion as a "preemptive strike" so that Ukraine would not join NATO and NATO would not attack russia. although there were already NATO member countries on the border with russia. another cheap lie.

russia justified the invasion by the fact that in Ukraine "the russian-speaking population is oppressed". although even our president spoke russian before the invasion.

meanwhile, russian state channels simply say that Ukrainians annoy them, so Ukrainians must be destroyed.

russia said that it would not shell civilians, but russia began the invasion by shelling houses in the middle of the night and dropping bombs on sleeping civilians. on all of us.

russia said that its targets are only military facilities, but russia destroys entire cities and villages along with the population, killing Ukrainians every day.

since the beginning of the war, only Ukrainians have suffered. russians forcibly take Ukrainian children to the territory of russia, where the children are subjected to physical and psychological violence. with hard efforts, Ukraine managed to return a few, but currently about 30,000 Ukrainian children (only those who could be counted) are still in russia.

first the russians drowned the Ukrainians, and then they began a massive shelling of the flooded cities in order to kill those who survived and those who came to the rescue.

this is a full-scale invasion of russia on the territory of Ukraine. Ukrainians are dying. Ukraine's ecology is suffering. the russians openly declare that all of Ukraine must be destroyed. they talk about it every day on state channels, their politicians call for the extermination of Ukrainians.

russians set up torture chambers for Ukrainians, execute Ukrainians, cut off the heads, hands and legs of our people, rape children, film all of this and show off. the whole Tumblr would not be enough to list all the tragedies that russia has caused and for which we cry every day, commemorate the victims every day, mourn every day.

now the russians blew up the dam and flooded dozens of Ukrainian towns and villages. these are terrible consequences for Ukraine first of all. then for the world and environment. but not for russia.

and while the Ukrainians were left alone with another russian war crime, with a crime against humanity, against the environment, russia simply says "it's not us" and people still believe it, and russia gets away with a tragic crime again.

please be sensible, russia has been at war with all its neighbors, russia is still at war in Syria, russia has been shelling Syrians even when there was an earthquake! now that russia caused the flood in Ukraine, russians are shelling Ukrainians, trying to finish off the wounded and those who did not manage to evacuate.

russia is evil and russia always lies. these are long proven facts, and if you have never delved into the topic of russian wars before, listen to the victims, listen to those whose lives russia is trying to take away.

everything is very simple right now — take the side of Ukraine. of Syria. support good.

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coochiequeens · 1 year

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A man exploited a woman, then he beats her before murdering her by shooting her NINE times and now he’s claiming to be a woman.

A gay man who admitted to murdering the surrogate mother he hired to have his children has told the court he identifies as a woman in what some are calling a bid to avoid a potentially lengthy sentence for femicide.

Fernando Alves Ferreira was detained in February of 2022 after admitting to the murder of Eduarda Santos, a surrogate he had hired who was living with him in the Argentinian city of Bariloche. Santos’ body was found by a tourist on the Circuito Chico Trail with 9 gunshot wounds. A later forensic examination revealed that Santos’ corpse also had injuries consistent with having been beaten prior to her death.

Two days after the killing, Ferreira turned himself into police. He repeatedly admitted to the crime while in custody, stating repeatedly “I did it. I killed her.” He was charged with femicide, premeditated murder, and use of a firearm owned without authorization, and expressed a desire in court to enter a guilty plea.

In Ferreira’s car, which was seized after he turned himself in, police found blood stains, leading them to theorize that a fight had broken out in the vehicle before Santos fled on foot. Ferreira then chased her down and shot her. Investigators noted that Ferreira had taken “every precaution to ensure the woman could not defend herself.” CCTV footage was also found of Ferreira disposing of his weapon.

The motivation for the crime is unclear, as Ferreira has refused to provide concrete details. Instead, he has vaguely accused Santos of being involved in illegal “gang” activity and suggested he was the victim in the situation. No evidence has been found to substantiate his claim.

The court heard that Ferreira and Santos were both originally from Brazil, and that Ferreira, along with his husband, had hired Santos to be a surrogate in 2020.

Santos would give birth to twins for Ferreira and his partner, who would pass away the next year. The woman had apparently been living with the couple due to having a lack of her own economic resources.

The chief prosecutor in the case characterized Santos as being particularly vulnerable, and described her as having been “at the mercy” of Ferreira. Just one month prior to her murder, Santos had given birth to another child.

“Eduarda was a foreign woman who lived in Bariloche … She lived in the defendant’s house, lacked her own resources, and was at the mercy of the owner of the house,” chief prosecutor Martín Lozada stated during a hearing. “It was a situation of remarkable asymmetry. Eduarda was a woman to whom the accused had rented her womb to have two children through surrogacy, and since the birth of the twins, she lived in the same house.”

Prosecutors also argued that Ferreira had exercised “economic and psychological violence” on Santos for years, and that Santos was without any family or friends in Argentina.

In response, Ferreira accused Santos of being the aggressor, saying “she was not submissive.”

Santos’ family in Brazil have previously spoken out against Ferreira’s claims of victimhood, slamming media for giving him sympathetic coverage.

“My sister is the victim, not him,” Santos’ brother told Brazilian outlet O Dia last year. At the time, the family appeared to have been unaware of Santos’ situation in Argentina, believing she had gainful employment in the country. Santos’ family has been fighting for custody of the children she had as a surrogate for Ferreira in order to repatriate them to Brazil. Ferreira has demanded the children not be returned to Brazil.

It was the dynamic between Ferreira and Santos which led to prosecutors pursuing a conviction for femicide, which is defined as a gender-specific crime introduced in 2012 to address the nation’s epidemic of sex-based violence. According to the United Nations, one woman is murdered every 32 hours in Argentina. The femicide provision was defined broadly as “a crime against a woman when the act is perpetrated by a man and gender violence is mediated.”

But now, Ferreira’s lawyers are seeking to have the femicide charge withdrawn, arguing that their client no longer identifies as a man. This past week during a hearing, Ferreira’s lawyers stated that his name was now “Amanda,” and that he was going through the relevant legal procedures to have his self-declared gender identity recognized.

The prosecutors have reportedly pushed back against Ferreira’s request to be treated as a woman, but the case is still underway.

Of the charges Ferreira faced, the femicide claim carried the longest potential sentence of life imprisonment. If withdrawn, and if the other legal strategies stated by the defense are successful, Ferreira could spend as little as 10 years in prison for slaughtering Santos.

This is not the first time gender identity has interfered with a femicide-related crime in Argentina.

As previously reported by Reduxx, the brutal murder of a prostituted woman in Buenos Aires was initially recorded as a femicide until media learned that the two men involved in the killing identified as transgender.

Brenda Córdoba, 28, was murdered on November 10 of 2021 in the Buenos Aires neighborhood of Balvanera. Grisly surveillance camera footage released by police during the investigation into her death showed Córdoba being approached by what appeared to be a man in a white hoodie and face mask. The man circled around to her back before grabbing her in a headlock and stabbing her multiple times in the chest.

Córdoba, who was dropped into a puddle of her own blood, was initially found alive by passersby who had attempted to intervene in the stabbing and rushed to hospital. She died as a result of her injuries days later.

Her killers were apprehended by police after an appeal to the community with CCTV footage of the murder. While media initially reported the crime as having been a femicide, the term was quickly scrubbed from reporting after the gender identities of Córdoba’s killers were established.

“due to having a lack of her own economic resources”……. Meaning two men exploited a poor woman.

By Anna Slatz

Anna is the Co-Founder and Editor-in-Chief at Reduxx, with a journalistic focus on covering crime, child predators, and women's rights. She lives in Canada, enjoys Opera, and kvetches in her spare time.

#Fernando Alves Ferreira #Rest In Peace Eduarda Santos #Argentina #Bariloche

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capybaracorn · 2 months

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‘Massacre’: Dozens killed by Israeli fire in Gaza while collecting food aid

Desperate residents under Israeli attack while trying to get flour for families as famine stalks the strip.

Dozens of Palestinians have been killed or wounded after Israeli troops opened fire on hundreds waiting for food aid southwest of Gaza City, as the besieged enclave faces an unprecedented hunger crisis.

Gaza’s government media office accused the Israeli army of “committing a horrific massacre”. More than 70 people were killed and about 250 others were wounded, it said in a statement on Thursday.

The citizens had congregated at al-Rashid Street, where aid trucks carrying flour were believed to be on the way. Al Jazeera verified footage showing the bodies of dozens of killed and wounded Palestinians being carried onto trucks as no ambulances could reach the area.

“We went to get flour. The Israeli army shot at us. There are many martyrs on the ground and until this moment we are withdrawing them. There is no first aid,” said one witness.

One Palestinian man told the Quds News Network the military attack was a “crime”.

“I have been waiting since yesterday. At about 4.30 this morning, trucks started to come through. Once we approached the aid trucks, the Israeli tanks and warplanes started firing at us, as if it was a trap.

“To the Arab states I say, if you want to have us killed, why are you sending relief aid? If this continues, we do not want any aid delivered at all. Every convoy coming means another massacre.”

Jadallah Al-Shafei, the head of the nurses department at al-Shifa Hospital, said that “the situation is beyond any words”, adding that “the hospital was flooded with dozens of dead bodies and hundreds of injured”.

“The majority of the victims suffered gunshots and shrapnel in the head and upper parts of their bodies. They were hit by direct artillery shelling, drone missiles and gun firing,” he told Al Jazeera.

The mass shooting was the latest instance of systematic attacks on hungry people waiting for scraps of food. Over the past few days, Palestinians gathered in large groups waiting for aid trucks on Salah al-Din Street near Gaza City have been shot at by Israeli forces, said Al Jazeera’s Hani Mahmoud, reporting from Rafah in the enclave’s south.

Recently, a truck that was supposed to deliver aid to people in Gaza tragically turned into the truck carrying those injured and killed, he added.

With aid agencies unable to deliver supplies to northern Gaza since January 23, many are taking a long trek towards the south by foot.

Famine

On Wednesday, Carl Skau, deputy executive director of the World Food Programme (WFP), told the United Nations Security Council more than 500,000, or one in four people, were at risk of famine, with one child in every six below the age of two considered acutely malnourished.

“The risk of famine is being fuelled by the inability to bring critical food supplies into Gaza in sufficient quantities, and the almost impossible operating conditions faced by our staff on the ground,” he said.

He described dangerous conditions for WFP trucks trying to get food to the north earlier this month. “There were delays at checkpoints; they faced gunfire and other violence; food was looted along the way; and at their destination, they were overwhelmed by desperately hungry people,” said Skau.

Aid agencies claim that Israel has been delaying deliveries. Israel denies that charge. It submitted a report to the International Court of Justice (ICJ) on the measures taken to avert suffering in the besieged enclave. Rights groups say Israel acted in breach of the ICJ order issued in January.

Philippe Lazzarini, the head of UNRWA, the UN agency for Palestinian refugees, said on Sunday on social media that calls to allow food distribution in Gaza amid the ongoing hostilities between Israel and Hamas have been denied or “have fallen on deaf ears”.

Warning against “looming famine”, the UN official said the situation is becoming a “man-made disaster”.

Israel launched a deadly offensive on the Gaza Strip following a Hamas-led attack on October 7. More than 30,000 people are reported to have been killed to date, mostly women and children.

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porterdavis · 1 year

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It's the guns, pure and simple. Go after them.

People always come at me saying, fine, what law would you propose to stop the insanity of mass killings in the US. Well, let's think about it for a minute, what does the US have that other countries don't? Other countries that don't have the obscenity of murdered elementary school students? Yep, the Second Amendment.

Since the floodgates opened with the Heller decision, guns and gun lovers have proliferated like maggots on a dead elephant. Without guns, fights result in bloody noses, not shoot-outs on city streets. Suicides are bridge jumpers, not Walmart shooters waiting for copicide.

So what's the answer? Treat guns like cars. Mandatory registration. Required training and licensing. Liability insurance. An additional automatic five years on any sentence upon conviction if a weapon is used in the commission of a crime. No exceptions or plea bargaining.

Tax guns and ammunition heavily with part of the money going to a victims' compensation fund. Make concealed carry a crime in every state and every circumstance.

It once seemed an impossibility to curb smoking. It was accomplished when it became a national policy goal. Similarly, seat-belt use was not considered important until the death toll and expense became too much. Changing people's perceptions and behaviour can be difficult but it can be done.

America must come to love its children more than its guns. Nothing more, nothing less. It just needs enough people to say "enough!"

#gun control #2nd amendment

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allthecanadianpolitics · 2 years

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A growing intervention model that partners police with schools, health providers and social workers to identify people believed to be “at risk” of becoming criminals or victims of crime is violating minors’ privacy, omitting crucial race data, and may have contributed to several deaths in Ontario, documents obtained by The Breach reveal.

First created in 2011, the so-called “Situation Tables” have been rolled out in cities across Canada, assessing thousands of people and launching hundreds of interventions led or assisted by police every year.

There are around 150 Tables currently active in Canada with funding from provinces or cities, and no provincial or federal oversight.

[...]

“It’s a really horrible model,” Ajadi told The Breach. “This is a bunch of institutions ganging up on people who are defenseless. Situation Tables turn the model of collaborative community-centric care on its head, and put it in the grasp of the carceral state…How could this ever be allowed in the context of the Charter of Rights and Freedoms?”

Despite claims by police that they reduce crimes, data from cities with Tables show crime has in some cases risen after they were launched.

Its also been called 'hub policing' and here's an older interview with this journalist about it:

Please understand that trivial non harmful behaviors are used to justify these situation tables and directly lead to incarceration or institutionalization. Having complaints about wearing saggy pants gets turned into indecent exposure charges and being on the sex offender registry. Having undiagnosed and untreated medical issues that cause a child to miss second period at high school leads to child and family services terminating parental rights through situation table escalation.

#submission #policing #acab #police violence #cdnpoli #canada #canadian news #canadian politics #canadian

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girlschasinggirls · 7 months

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do you not realize that jews are indigenous to israel? there is both genetic and archaeological evidence. additionally the reason most jews who lived in europe simply can’t return (where they are not indigenous to anyways) is because their neighbors literally were robbing and raping and killing and turning them into the nazis and other armies that were trying to kill them. it wasn’t just the nazis killing them. and do you know the state of antisemitism in america? jews make up the majority of victims of hate crimes, more than any other minority group in the united states. the fbi releases statistics every year. israel is the only country where they are not subject to outright discrimination on the basis of ethnicity and religion. this is because jews are not white. they are from the levant. if palestinians are not white, and many are actually originally from even further north than israel/palestine (many common last names translate to “the (name of non-arab group formerly colonized by the arabs)), then neither are jews.

yes palestinians are also victims of colonization, by the arabs and british and turks, NOT by israel; who aside from india is the only successful state to have fully decolonized. this does not mean palestinians are treated entirely fairly, but part of this is due to the fact that palestine has an entirely separate government, and israel has fully withdrawn from gaza aside from continuing to provide water and electricity, something they are not required to do as a separate country. egypt does not provide these resources despite also having a blockade set up.

palestine was not peaceful for jews before the establishment of israel. look up any given city or town and the word “pogrom” and you will be met with the story of a systemic killing of jews in that municipality

I’m going to have to use a few examples to explain this.

Romani people are ethnically indigenous to northern India and are currently mostly dispersed thoughout Europe, they were also victims in the holocaust and they are also heavily discriminated against in all parts of the world they live especially in Europe. If, leading up to and after the holocaust a Romani person created a Zionist-like ideology of a Romani ethnostate. If after WWII, with the help of the British they mass immigrated back to northern India as refugees and were welcomed by the indigenous Indians already living there. Would it have been okay for them to then commit their own nakba and colonise a portion of northern India and rename it Romaniland or whatever the fuck?? Start expelling and murdering the Indians that had been living there for generations who also have an ethnic claim to the land? Packing 2 million of them in a 45km squared strip of land and do to them what Israelis are doing to Gazans? Having the fucking audacity to say it’s okay because “they were here first” 1000 years ago? While also somehow simultaneously claiming that there were no people there? “a people without land and a land without people” ??

Did you know that before Zionists settled on Palestine, they also considered Uganda and Argentina for their Zionist state?? The Zionist ideology is inherent to the existence of modern Israel and is the reason it was created, the racism, colonialism, apartheid and genocide is not the fault of a bad government but the foundation of the country itself. The Zionist ideology and genocidal intentions were already in place before they step foot in Palestine and could also be happening right now in Uganda or Argentina instead so don’t try to bullshit that “they were here first” because they would be doing this regardless of the location.

Palestinians are victims of Israeli colonisation as we can see with our own eyes right this moment and literally how dare you even say that. Also you know who else is killed and discriminated against everywhere in the world they go? Women, gay people, disabled people, Romani people, this wouldn’t justify any of these groups creating their own apartheid state anywhere in the world and start doing what Israelis are currently doing.

I want to make it clear that in the process of the Israeli state returning the land to Palestine and ceasing to exist, not one single person needs to be harmed or killed, a lot of them won’t even have to leave the country and can just live in Palestine, amongst Palestinian people of all religions including Jewish, as they did when they first arrived after WWII. If Romani people also wanted to move back to northern India without colonising it and creating an apartheid state this would also be completely okay fucking obviously. Modern Israel is not the Israel from the bible. Every piece of land on earth is already belonging to an existing country and you cannot create a new one without occupying another. Sucks but that’s the reality. Have a terrible day.

#also gaza isn’t a country

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the-masculine-alpha · 5 months

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Father Son Police Officers

The world of police officers is often portrayed as one of bravery, integrity, and honor. They are the protectors of society, the ones we turn to when we are in danger. But what happens when a police officer and his son are forced into a world of darkness and sex slavery? This is the untold story of a father and son who fell victim to the twisted desires of a powerful businessman.

Officer Jack Wilson was a highly respected member of the police force. He had served for over 20 years and had earned numerous awards for his bravery and dedication to his job. His son, Officer Mark Wilson, followed in his footsteps and joined the force after graduating from the police academy with top honors.

The Wilson men were known for their strong bond and their unwavering commitment to serving and protecting their community. They were a force to be reckoned with, both on and off duty. However, their perfect world was about to come crashing down.

It all started when they were assigned to investigate a series of high profile murders that were linked to a powerful businessman, Mr. Jameson. The evidence against him was strong, but he always seemed to find a way to escape conviction. The Wilsons were determined to bring him down and put an end to his reign of terror.

As they delved deeper into the case, they discovered that Mr. Jameson had ties to some of the most influential people in the city, including high-ranking officials in the police department. It became clear that he was using his wealth and influence to manipulate the justice system in his favor.

Despite the obstacles, Jack and Mark were determined to see justice served. They worked tirelessly day and night, gathering evidence and building a strong case against Mr. Jameson. But little did they know, he had other plans for them.

One night, as they were leaving the police station, they were ambushed by a group of armed men. Jack and Mark put up a good fight, but they were outnumbered and overpowered. They were taken to an undisclosed location where Mr. Jameson was waiting for them.

Mr. Jameson revealed his true intentions to the father and son duo. He wanted to use them as his personal sex slaves, to fulfill his every desire and fantasy. Jack and Mark were horrified and refused to comply, but Mr. Jameson had evidence of their involvement in the case against him, and he threatened to expose it if they didn't cooperate.

Feeling trapped and with no other choice, Jack and Mark were subjected to unspeakable acts of sex by Mr. Jameson and his associates. They were stripped of their dignity and reduced to nothing but mere objects for their master's pleasure.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. Jack and Mark were trapped in a living nightmare with no end in sight. They were constantly abused and humiliated, both physically and emotionally. Their only solace was each other, as they clung onto their bond as father and son.

As time went on, Mr. Jameson's hold over them became stronger. He had effectively brainwashed them into submission, manipulating their minds with drugs and psychological torture. They had become completely dependent on him for their survival.

Meanwhile, the case against Mr. Jameson was thrown out due to lack of evidence. The Wilsons' worst fears had come true – he had gotten away with his crimes once again. But for Jack and Mark, there was no going back to their old lives. They were now completely under Mr. Jameson's control.

Years went by, and the once proud police officers had become nothing but shells of their former selves. Their spirits were broken, and their will to fight had vanished. They were resigned to their fate as sex slaves, living in a constant state of fear and pain.

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good-old-gossip · 25 days

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Gaza is one big ‘kill zone’

After six months of apocalyptic war, Gaza today is a bunch of ‘kill zones’ within a larger kill zone.

Four Palestinian men are walking in the city of Khan Younis in the southern Gaza Strip through an area largely pulverised by Israeli bombardments. There is no indication that they are carrying weapons or doing anything aside from putting one foot in front of the other, as humans do to get from one place to the next.

Suddenly, a direct air strike on the pedestrians takes out two of the men. The third continues walking and is quickly blasted to bits as well. The fourth is eliminated by yet another strike after falling to his knees.

This episode, which reportedly took place in February, is depicted in Israeli drone footage released in March by Al Jazeera. Watching the defenceless men systematically picked off from the sky in a fanatical display of firepower, one is reminded of the Collateral Murder video published by WikiLeaks in 2010, in which a dozen Iraqi civilians were exuberantly massacred by helicopter-borne United States military personnel.

In the Khan Younis incident, it appears that the “crime” of the four men – meriting an instant death sentence – was their presence in one of the Israeli military’s so-called “kill zones” in Gaza, the subject of a recent expose in the Israeli newspaper Haaretz. The article specifies that “there is no written order” stipulating kill zones in the Israeli army’s “rule book”, but it’s abundantly clear that they are a very real phenomenon with very little institutional oversight. “Ultimately, the boundaries of these zones and the exact procedures of operation are subject to interpretation by commanders in that specific area,” the newspaper found.

Speaking to Haaretz, one Israeli reserve officer described the business as follows: “In every combat zone, commanders define such kill zones. … As soon as people enter [a zone], mainly adult males, orders are to shoot and kill, even if that person is unarmed.”

So much for the world’s “most moral army”.

In sum, then, Palestinians can be slaughtered simply for finding themselves in an area that happens to have been arbitrarily designated a “kill zone” by some Israeli commander or another.

And if you’re killed in a “kill zone”, chances are you’ll be marked down by Israel as a “terrorist”, which certainly helps in terms of inflating the casualty count of “bad guys” in a war that as of mid-March had already killed more than 13,000 Palestinian children.

According to Haaretz, of the more than 32,000 Palestinians estimated to have been killed in Gaza over the past six months, the Israeli army says 9,000 or so were “terrorists” – a claim that has failed to convince even many army commanders. As one officer who previously served in Gaza commented to the newspaper: “In practice, a terrorist is anyone the [military] has killed in the areas in which its forces operate.”

Not that the Zionist politico-military establishment hasn’t been known to deploy the terms “Palestinian” and “terrorist” more or less interchangeably. Indeed, 75 years of perverse propaganda has sought to persuade the world that the victims of continuous terrorisation by Israel are in fact the ones doing the terrorising.

Now the victims of “kill zones” get to be terrorists too. Never mind that, regarding the case of the four pedestrians in Khan Younis, a senior Israeli military officer remarked to Haaretz: “They were unarmed. They didn’t endanger our forces in the area in which they were walking.”

The article goes on to quote the same officer’s speculation that many civilians in Gaza had met their demise after entering areas they thought the army had already abandoned, possibly in the hopes of finding food that had been left behind: “When they went to such places, they were shot, perceived as people who could harm our forces.”

An Israeli military spokesperson has huffily denied the “kill zone” reports. And yet at the end of the day, the Gaza Strip is one big kill zone – with literally no space off limits to killing. How else do you explain massacres at Palestinian hospitals and United Nations shelters or the slaughter of people waiting in line for food aid as children starve to death?

To be sure, Israel has long boasted of its alleged prowess in conducting surgically precise air strikes and targeted killings. But even if the figure of 9,000 dead “terrorists” tallied by the Israeli army had any basis in reality, it’s difficult to account for more than 23,000 “collateral murders”, to borrow the WikiLeaks phrasing.

Unless, of course, collaterality has nothing to do with it and Israel is simply straight up targeting civilians – which, after all, is how genocide works, isn’t it?

After six months of apocalyptic war, Gaza today is a bunch of “kill zones” within a larger kill zone. And as Israel continues its quest to normalise depravity across the board, the current Israeli monopoly on terrorism will certainly be tough to break.

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pumpkinfreak · 3 months

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Watching Hannibal for the first time S2E1-4

Before I recap anything I need to rant. Will is in an asylum. At his lowest point, fighting for his life. Okay, Beverly Kats a pathologist from Jack's team. Comes to him and needs his help solving a murder. They found a body downstream, and Will, with his big brain wisdom, tells her to go upstream to find the killer... I am beginning to understand how these people could drive you to serial killing. HOW IS THAT NOT YOUR FIRST INSTINCT. It's a rural area, there's not a WAWA on every corner to search.

Apparently any rat bastard can get into the FBI, they all rely upon one guy using basic laws of nature to solve crimes. Like, this was not 4D chess, it was Connect Four. Instead of connecting four, you threw up on yourself and went crying to Will to fix it.

...rant over.

First scene Episode 1. Gives me more Mads fighting in a suit (I need psychological help) always love that. Lecter and Jack are trying to kill each other and then the plot insults me by jumping back twelve weeks. When Jack and Lecter are still friends. They're both bummed about Will being a serial killer and blaming Hannibal for the murders.

During this, we got to see the inside of a sea urchin (I desire the yellow spike ball meat) and it implied the Tuna meat Hannibal was sclicing up was a person. Like I don't know what fish meat looks like.

The whole event was very upsetting.

However, back at FBI headquarters, I was pleased to see Miranda! She's the internal Investigation lady.

Granted it's not the same character, but the vibes were there, now I need a Hannibal/Sex and the City crossover. Carrie and Lecter can go shopping and then eat Big. THE PLOT WRITES ITSELF. Anyway, Miranda, wants Jack to essentially throw Will to the wolves so the FBI doesn't have to take accountability for destroying his brain.

Also, there's like a guy sewing people together, so they form a giant eye to look at GOD, so GOD can look back at them. It looked really neat. Did not like watching a victim rip his own skin apart to escape. Loved the sequence of him running from the killer. Hannibal kills the guy, steals his leg, and sews him into his own body painting.

It's made abundantly clear that Hannibal believes himself to be god in this scene, and then he goes home and eats some tasty leg meat.

Episodes two and three focus on Will's trial, and everyone has opinions. Alana thinks Will did kill those people, but he did it in an unconscious state, and would not have done so otherwise. Jack is torn and can't decide if he pushed Will too hard and broke his brain, or if he's a highly intelligent psychopath who used the FBI as a cover. Will is in the trenches, trying to prove it's Hannibal. My opinion is that the hat Freddie wore to the trial is a sin against god and man. This woman wore the hat your Southern Baptist grandma wears.

In the smack-dab middle of this trial, another ear is delivered to the court. The ear belongs to the bailiff, who is found super dead. Jack is thrilled because this means someone may have done the killings, and he can avoid any responsibility for Will's mental state. I think I want Jack to get eaten. They try to work in this new murder as proof that Will is innocent, and the judge is not having it...that judge is then artfully murdered...

...but at least Will got a mistrial

Episode 4.

While all of this is going on, Will is at the same hospital Chilten runs. Chilten is somehow alive, after being turned into a slaughterhouse gift basket. He did lose a kidney but retained his brass balls because this man just keeps on being a massive douch nozzle. His new mission in life is to prove Will is a psychopath.

Will wants Beverly to look further into Hannibal, and she begrudgingly agrees.

Jack's wife confides in Hannibal that she wants to kill herself, due to the pain from her cancer. To which he agrees, and when she comes back later on the brink of death from a morphine overdose, HE FLIPS A COIN AND REVIVES HER. First of all, I thought he was gonna feed Jack his own wife. You know, for funsies.

Then Beverly finds human kidneys in Hannibal's fridge. Wait, there is more. THERE IS ALWAYS MORE ON THIS HIKE THROUGH SATAN'S LOWER INTESTINE. Beverly discovers a bunker under Hammibal's house. That she explores alone, I'm not surprised she had to be told to go upstream. We don't see what's in the bunker, but imagine it's not a Beanie Baby collection. Hannibal finds her and then cuts to black.

Im going to throw myself into an oven. I loved almost all of this, until next time. Stay safe, and do not eat the Tuna.

#hannibal #will graham #first time watch #horror #mads mikkelsen #hugh dancy #nbc hannibal #silence of the lambs

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hirkyy · 1 year

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Ok since last posting I’ve fallen prey to getting foaming at the mouth angry at my phone screen again but I want everyone to fucking shut it about the dehumanization of Russians.

Are those Russians apparently suffering real world systemic oppression in the room with us right now? Are they in air raid shelters underground? Are they maybe in the basement of their apartment buildings instead, praying this won’t become their grave if the building gets striked and collapses above their head? Are they already dumped in an unmarked mass grave, hands tied behind their back and body charred after the enemy soldiers attempted to burn the evidence of their crimes? Or does their heart still beat and does it sink every time their loved ones don’t answer the phone?

You are so quick to jump to the defense of poor Russians being a little sad :( when those evil Eastern Europeans are being mean to them online, but you don’t give a shit about the dehumanization of Ukrainians. None of you will even attempt to grasp the utter horror of Russian government (!) media outlets publishing articles and broadcasting TV reports openly calling for genocide, denying the existence of Ukrainians as people and Ukraine as a state, equating Ukrainians to parasites and vermin and completely reducing our lives to nothing; even blatantly using such terms as “De-Ukrainization”.

Westerners can at least claim ignorance even if it’s a pitiful excuse but this is what Russians are exposed to daily and they choose to avert their gaze and dont look at entire cities being leveled to the ground, people forced to survive in conditions your mind would not be able to conjure up, spending sleepless nights listening to explosions and artillery fire in basements, risking their lives to go outside to find dead animals to eat or to bury the bodies of their deceased loved ones outside because they have started to decompose. Instead of listening to Russians crying about how they’re being victimized look up stories of people who were lucky to survive and escape Mariupol and every time you feel a sense of nausea at the utter horror these people have seen you better keep fucking looking. Look up the official United Nations independent investigation report describing cases of rape of children as young as 4. Read about the abduction and mass deportations of thousands (!) of Ukrainian children, either orphaned or taken forcibly from their parents, whose living family is heartbroken and inconsolable, holding on to what little hope they have of getting them back home from God fucking knows where in Russia. Look up filtration camps and torture chambers set up by Russian soldiers. This is what dehumanization does, it convinces you no human life was lost because those weren’t even humans. And it is working in Russia right now because most Russian people feel perfectly fine and cozy at home and to them being dehumanized means people being mean to them on Tumblr apparently. Or forcing them to confront the reality of how their inaction is what allows for all this inconceivable suffering to continue.

Be thankful you and your family are certain to see the light of day tomorrow and you have not spent the past year having to cope with your home being devastated by a genocidal war while knowing this could have just as easily been you every time you see another person mercilessly tortured, raped and killed for simply being Ukrainian, and shut the fuck up

#ukraine #russian invasion of ukraine #russian imperialism

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the-illiterate-pirate · 11 months

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No Rest for the Wicked (Villain AU La Squadra)

WARNING: Series focuses on some dark content, such as murder and torture, yandere characters, stalking, kidnapping, and may contain nsfw writing and dubious consent

The hero association "Passione" takes pride in protecting Italy and it's citizens. From the everyday purse thief, to carjackers... To the underbelly of Italy's society of villains with their arrays of dangerous powers and abilities. But with such strong super heros like Golden Experience and Napoli's own Sticky Fingers, surely you'll be safe.

Right?

Hello! Hi! Welcome to my Super Villain LS AU! V excited to finally post this because the idea has been molding in the back of my brain for a good year now. Each member will get multiple chapters for their own stories, maybe even mixing together every once in a while, I'm not sure when I'll be able to officially start posting any of them but in the meantime PLEASE ask me questions about this au if you're interested. Especially if it has anything to do with outfits and costumes because that's my favorite part hehe. *Au won't include Sorbet and Gelato x Reader but they do make their appearances!

File: Somebody's Leavin’

Alias: Little Feat

Formaggio, originally the low fame superhero "Little Feat" has only recently turned to a life of crime, but proves to be a formidable foe. This change now allows him to use his abilities to their fullest extent. With a single scratch, Formaggio is allowed to shrink any living being at will, along with manipulating the size of inanimate objects as well. With a mix of these abilities as well as hand to hand combat, Little Feat originally scouted lesser populated areas and dealt with lesser threats such as purse snatches and bank heists. Now, Formaggio uses these abilities without consequence, reaping chaos. Around this same time, a missing persons case has opened up. The disappearance includes a barista working at a popular cafe in the city Little Feat used to protect. Coincidence? Still unsure.

File: Somebody's Watching Me

Alias: Man in the Mirror

People have reported seeing faces in the reflections of their homes. When called in for police sketching, all reports include a very similar man for each victim. Well built, with fair skin and dark hair, with goggles and his lower face hidden behind a beak shaped mask. He has been titled "The Man in the Mirror", otherwise known as Illuso. Most people that have been visited by the man have stated finding his "calling card" within the frames of their mirrors. These people have wound up dead. The Man in the Mirror seems to only attack the rich and those in power, so citizens who have seen him are asked to stay calm, but alert public authority immediately.

File: Happy Together

Alias: Beach Boy

Pesci is stated to be a freshly turned villain, but despite his late start proves to be difficult to challenge as he's been found shadowing the villain "Grateful Dead", a formidable evil that has been terrorizing Italy for some time now. Though his abilities are ideally for tracking, Pesci makes up for it with brute strength and his incredible size. Studies report that not a single casualty has happened during brushes with Beach Boy, but the same can't be said for the future. It's only a matter of time for the brute to turn away from his humanity and officially become one with the super villain underground.

File: Vermillion

Alias: Grateful Dead

Prosciutto, otherwise known as "Grateful Dead", is a well known and quite popular villain. Despite his title, women and men alike fold at the knee due to his charming appearance and suave personality. Prosciutto doesn't like to get his hands dirty, but will do what the job needs him to. He mainly focuses on the gambling scene and a chain of bars and sultry clubs. His abilities are lesser known, and are quite confusing to understand how they work, but it's easy enough to say if a contract of his doesn't end with a bullet in the head, they're rotting into the dirt instead.

File: Crimewave

Alias: Babyface

Babyface rarely leaves the villains compound, and when he does it's almost always for business. He goes under the alias "Melone" and owns a booming unisex cosmetics line titled "Molto Dolce Productions", enjoyed by men and women and everyone else from all ages as his makeups and serums are vegan friendly and animal cruelty free. As Babyface, he prides himself with a remote controlled army of handmade robots who do his biding for him. His so called "children" range from entirely metallic suits and grotesque cyborg abominations. He lives in a laboratory underground and spends most of his time creating life.

File: Love is like Oxygen

Alias: Gently Weeps

Ghiaccio never wanted to become a villain, but was born into the life of crime. Abandoned by his own family, he stole to survive, he cheated people out of money and food, and at the crisp age of seventeen Ghiaccio was officially brought into the villain hierarchy. In his years of work he's rose through the ranks and has become the villain known as Gently Weeps, and uses cryokinesis. Under a fake name he pretends to be a citizen, walking among Italy's streets, trying to live a normal life as best as he can, finishing school and even joining a gym to help with his icy temper.

File: Enter Sandman

Alias: Metallica

Not much is known about him, as Metallica keeps to the shadows and has never been seen by the naked eye. He lives only to kill, every murder happening in the dead of night. Not a sound to be heard, save the faint jingle of a bell. They say before you die at his hands, you're stared down by the blood red eyes of the devil himself. Each contract dead at his hands are found with their throat cut open, and a pair of bloody scissors settled on their chest.

#no rest for the wicked au #golden wind #la squadra x reader #la squadra #jjba x reader #formaggio x reader #illuso x reader #pesci x reader #prosciutto x reader #melone x reader #ghiaccio x reader #risotto nero x reader #yandere posting #yandere jjba

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thewhitehairedwitchgirl · 11 months

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I just read part of a fic that claimed to be writing a more "critical" version of Jiang Cheng, and I'm usually wary of such because when ppl say they're going to be "critical" of JC (or indeed any character) they usually mean they're going to turn him into YZY 2.0 with no redeeming qualities aside from being the absolute worst version of himself 24/7. Every JC/Jiang Bashing fic I've ever read is just the most one dimensional portrayal of MXTX's extremely complex characters, even if the author has to make up crimes and drama that actively contradict canon traits (rip yanli)

And that's fine. It's fanfiction. You're allowed to write whatever you want and if readers don't like it the exit button is free. However, it just irks me because I don't even really like JC and some of these portrayals make me want to defend this man in court.

For one, branding him as a mass murderer for being at the siege. Okay sure, but in that case so is literally everyone who persecuted the Wen Remnants even if only through wilful ignorance and passive allowance. The Lans, the Nies, and every minor sect. Yet why does LXC get a pass when he also was involved with the death and slaughter of the Wens? The primary message of the book was the dangers of mob mentality tyranny, and that all the great clans and leaders were at fault.

I see JC as a victim. As a child he was punished for acting familiarly with WWX while also punished for not being as skilled. Then as an adult he witnessed the death of his entire family and sect, and lashed out badly. Yet why is that his sole defining character moment? As if he didn't spent the end of the war wanting to protect his family, INCLUDING WWX. Of course he blamed WWX for Lotus Pier burning. Everyone did, including the Wens. They were obviously always going to attack, but WWX was a convenient scapegoat.

I won't pretend their relationship was healthy, but it also wasn't monstrously abusive. The reason JC lost his core was because he was trying to protect WWX from a patrol of Wen soldiers. Even after their fight, JC still snuck JYL into the city to see WWX and was the one who suggested that WWX be the one to choose the baby's courtesy name. It's explicitly stated that a lot of the reason their relationship went so sour was because the other sects (namely the Jins) manipulated/preyed on his insecurities.

TLDR: stop making me defend this man.

#mo dao zu shi #the untamed #jiang cheng #wei wuxian #yunmeng bros #yunmeng siblings #i won't pretend he's perfect but at least i dislike him accurately

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