#(he's a special crime investigator / profiler for the FBI)

[oneshotnewbie]

Cult Victim

Criminal Minds x Reader

Summary: Supervisory Special Agent Y/n y/l/n, FBI profiler at the BAU specializing in tracking down and understanding serial killers and criminal cults. Brotherhood of Silence that aims to rid society of "unworthy" elements by spreading chaos and fear. They believe in ritual purification through terror. Leader Lucien Kane, a charismatic but deeply disturbed woman, sees herself as the "savior" who must free humanity from its sins. The Brotherhood is made up of fanatical followers who all came to the group through personal tragedy or mental disorders. They operate in secret and are willing to do anything to achieve their goals.

You are on the trail of the Brotherhood of Silence after investigating a series of brutal murders marked by ritual symbols and cryptic messages. Lucien Kane sees you not only as a threat to her group and her beliefs, but also as a chosen one who is to be led to a higher understanding through suffering and enlightenment. She believes that once you are "cleansed," you are the one who can carry on her legacy.

⚠️Trigger Warning for the whole series⚠️ This one-shot includes the topic of blood, kidnapping, torture, sacrifice, depression, needles, injections, drugs, and those plots are presented. If this triggers you too easily or you just can´t handle the subject, I urge you NOT to read this work. I am NOT embellishing this topic under any circumstance. Read at your own risk.

ᕚ---ᕘ

The sound of the whirring computers in the FBI's operations center was almost soothing in its steadiness. Screens flickered with data and video feeds as you stood near a large, interactive screen. Your eyes were glued to the details of a particularly gruesome series of murders that had dominated the headlines in recent months. You were determined to find the perpetrators and bring them to justice.

Since the Brotherhood of Silence had come into your sights, you had barely been able to sleep. Your nights were spent poring over reports and reviewing and comparing old case files. Above your desk in the study of your apartment hung photos of the victims and maps with marked locations where the Brotherhood had struck. The lines with red thread between the various crime scenes formed a web of violence and terror. A web you couldn't wait to break.

Every detail you found, every tiny clue, drew you deeper into the darkness. The case had become more than just a professional challenge - it had become a personal mission that you pursued even after the rest of the team had long since finished work. You were sure that you were close to discovering a pattern, finding a flaw that would finally expose the cult.

"Y/n, have you seen the latest reports on the Brotherhood of Silence?" Spencer asked as he approached you cautiously with a stack of files in his hand so as not to startle you. You nodded and took one of the files. "Yes, I've looked through them. Their methods are becoming more violent."

Reid sat down at one of the desks and began to sift through the data. "There are indications that they are operating near Quantico. We must pull out all the stops to find them."

You sank into a chair across from him and studied the information. As you spoke, Reid noticed the dark circles under your eyes and the tension in your face. You were working harder than anyone else on the team on this case, and while your dedication was admirable, he was worried about you. He shared a look with JJ, who had also noticed that you seemed exhausted.

"Y/n, maybe you should take a break, hmm?" she suggested carefully, looking at you from her position at Reid's table. "You've been working through the last few nights. We all need to be in top form if we want to catch them."

You shook your head and looked up at her, worry reflecting in her eyes. "I can't. It's like I'm so close to finding something. These people are dangerous, and the longer we wait, the more innocent lives are in danger."

Tara, who had heard the exchange, also moved closer to you and placed an arm on your shoulder, playing with the soft lengths of your hair. "We know you mean business, sweetheart. But you're not alone. We're a team, and we can do this together."

You looked into the faces of your colleagues, recognized the concern, but also the determination in them. You knew you could rely on them, but the inner restlessness did not leave you alone.  The case had become embedded in your mind, a puzzle that you were constantly trying to solve.

"I know," you said finally, your voice light but still rock solid. "But something tells me that we are close to making a breakthrough. I can't ignore this and go home."

Emily stepped up, her presence calming and authoritative at the same time. "We will solve this case, y/n. But we have to make sure that we all do it healthily. Take some time for yourself this evening, that's an order."

You knew that she meant well, and you forced yourself to nod and fake a smile that did not reach your eyes. Inside, the desire to confront the Brotherhood burned like a blazing fire. You had vowed to solve this case, no matter what it cost.

But as you went through the data during your conversations, you did not notice the slight but targeted intrusions into the system. The Brotherhood had hooked their fingers deep into the FBI's digital networks, and they had only one target: you.

The Brotherhood of Silence had long operated in the shadows. Their leader, Lucien Kane, was watching events unfold from a secret hideout - one of many. Kidnapping you had become a central focus of her new plan. Your determination, intelligence and willingness to take risks made you a potential threat to them, but also a possible ally in their eyes - if she managed to break your will.

Their location was dimly lit, the windows draped with heavy curtains to keep out any daylight. An antique dark wood table stood in the center, scattered with plans, notes, and a single computer, its screen reflecting the bluish light of the command center.

Lucien Kane stood at the table with calm composure as she looked at Adrian, her most loyal follower and the technical genius of her followers. Adrian was a pale man with restless eyes that constantly moved as if they could reshape the world around him. He had infiltrated the FBI's network, hacked the communications channels, and gained access to the confidential systems without raising a warning.

"Do we have access?" Lucien asked, her voice light and velvety, imbued with an inner calm more sinister than any anger.

Adrian nodded, a fleeting smile crossing his lips as he appreciated the complexity of his work. "Yes, everything is set up. The surveillance has been bypassed, the security protocols are not activated. We have access to her communications. They will have no idea it's us.“

She leaned back, relaxed, as she folded her hands together. She enjoyed the view of the upcoming move. "Very good. It is important that Agent y/l/nis isolated before she understands what is happening. She is the key player, and her kidnapping will throw the rest of the squad into disarray."

Adrian looked at Lucien with a hint of admiration. "Her tenacity is impressive. She does not let up, even though we are always one step ahead of them." The woman next to him smiled, a cold, calculating smile that never reached her eyes. "That is why she must be taken out of the game. But we must not underestimate her abilities. We must lure her out with the utmost precision and skill. Have you prepared the message?"

"Yes, it's ready. The message will be sent from Emily's communication channel while she is being led astray by us with the team. She will not suspect anything. The need for discretion to protect her superior's supposed informant will cause her to go alone."

Lucien went to the window, where she looked out for a moment as if she could already see the world she wanted to reshape. "And what about the rest of the team?"

Adrian typed some commands into his laptop as he spoke. "I have prepared a disruption in their communication network. It will cost them valuable time before they realize that something is wrong. Agent y/l/n will already be in your hands before they understand it."

Lucien nodded in satisfaction, her thoughts already running at full speed. "Excellent. Once she's here, I'll receive her personally, so be gentle with her. She'll see that we're not just a simple enemy, but a force that can change the system from the ground up."

"Do you think you can convince her to join us?" he asked, a hint of doubt in his voice. "She has a strong mentality."

"Everyone has their price, Adrian. Everyone can be convinced and every mentality can be weakened if you just know which lever to use," she replied before turning away and leaving the room to make the final preparations for your arrival.

ᕚ---ᕘ

It was late afternoon when you were putting up the latest information and victims on the whiteboard in the conference room. The walls were already covered with photos of the victims and crime scene photos that documented the crime spree, but there were still little places to put something up.

The sounds of the office surrounded you when your cell phone vibrated on the table and caught your attention. It was an urgent one from Emily, who was currently out with the entire team, except Reid and you, on a trail that could create a breakthrough in this case. Your eyes narrowed as you read the instructions.

It was an urgent tip that supposedly came from a high-ranking informant in a remote industrial area north of Quantico. The instructions were clear and precise: go there alone to minimize the risk of the informant being exposed and not to put him in danger.

You read the message several times, your brow furrowed as your heart rate increased. The opportunity to make a break in the case was too tempting to ignore. Although it was unusual for Emily to send you alone, the security protocols and codes in the message were correct. You felt a mixture of excitement and caution, but your determination prevailed.

Before you left, you made a quick note and ran downstairs to inform Reid curtly that you were following up on a lead. "I'll be right back, I need to check something," you said as you grabbed your jacket.

Reid looked up from his computer and nodded, his eyes on you full of concern. "What leads?" he asked, and you paused in your position for a moment. "Prentiss asked me to look into something."

"Be careful, y/n. If you need assistance, call me. Stay on the radio   Garcia and I can hear you and send over backup if anything goes wrong." he spoke fully, smiling at you, still tapping away at his keyboard. "What can go wrong?" you replied with a smile. But inside, you had a sinking feeling as you left the building and headed towards the industrial area.

The industrial area was abandoned, a collection of old factories and dilapidated warehouses reclaimed by nature. The sky was overcast, and an ominous wind swept through the empty streets as you parked your car and got out.

Your hand rested steadily on your holster, a sort of safety as you cautiously entered the site. It was silent, save for the occasional creak of metal in the wind. The buildings seemed to have fallen from another time, their facades crumbling and shards of glass scattered on the ground.

You felt the cold creep into your bones as you followed the instructions in the message and walked to a specific building half-covered by ivy. The door was ajar. You paid attention to every sound, every shadow hiding in the corners. A claustrophobic feeling settled over you, as if the walls of the old warehouses were getting closer the deeper you walked into it.

"This is Special Agent l/n," you said into your radio to reassure Reid. "I'm at the specified location. Checking the area." There was silence. No answer. Your heart began to beat faster. "Headquarters, request confirmation of radio signal to the BAU."

No answer.

You drew your weapon and stepped inside. Your footsteps echoed through the deserted hall and the feeling of oppression grew stronger. You felt that something was wrong, but there was no way back. The darkness was almost tangible and the faint light that fell through the broken windows cast ghostly shadows on the walls. The floor was covered with a thick layer of dust that muffled your footsteps and increased the feeling of complete isolation. Cobwebs hung everywhere like curtains, blocking the way to unknown depths.

As you went deeper into the halls, you noticed that the air was stale, as if it had been trapped in the walls for years. A foul smell of decay and rust hung in the air, sharpening your senses and making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You knew you were not alone, that eyes were on you, even if you could see no sign of life.

You activated the flashlight on your body armor, the beam of light flickering across the walls, offering glimpses of the dilapidated facility. Old machines stood like lost monuments, witnesses to an industrial past long forgotten. The thought that people once worked and lived here was hard to imagine.

A soft scratching sounded behind you and you whirled around, weapon drawn. But there was nothing there, just the wind whistling through the cracks, bringing the buildings to life. Your breathing was shallow, and you forced yourself to remain calm. This was a trap, you knew that by now. But the question was: Why did Emily bring you here?

With every step you took deeper into the building, the feeling of threat grew more intense. Your instincts screamed at you that something was wrong, but there was no turning back. You had to find out what was going on, had to understand why your boss had brought you here.

Suddenly you heard a quiet but determined sound behind you. It wasn't wind, not the creaking of the old building. It was the sound of footsteps moving toward you. "Agent y/l/n to headquarters. This is-"

Before you could continue speaking, you were grabbed from behind. Strong arms held you tight, and a syringe found its way through the thin skin of your neck and into your veins.

You struggled, kicking and shooting into the air, but the numbness set in quickly. Your senses began to blur and you could only perceive blurred movements and muffled sounds around you. "We got her," a male voice spoke triumphantly into a phone as he tied you up, the other end of the call on speaker. "Take her to the hideout. She'll have to understand that she's part of something bigger now."

It was the only thing you noticed before your limbs became heavier, your weapon slipped from your hand and a feeling of helplessness overcame you.

ᕚ---ᕘ

The day was drawing to a close and the team returned to headquarters, exhausted from a long mission. The lead they had set out to and worked on had fizzled out and frustration hung in the air as they entered the building. But the frustration was quickly interrupted by an unsettling feeling.

Spencer Reid, the young genius of the team, stood at the radio station, where a flood of messages usually came in, but today there was a strange silence. Panic rose in him as he hit on the equipment, trying to make contact.

"Y/n, come on... answer me," Reid screamed, more to himself than to the others, as he frantically scanned the frequencies. But all he heard was static. His hands shook slightly as he checked the radio channel again, hoping it was just a technical glitch.

At that moment, the rest of the team entered the room. JJ, Tara, Rossi, Luke and Emily immediately noticed Spencer's worried face and the silence that permeated the room. "Reid, what's going on?" Emily asked with a worried undertone in his voice.

Reid looked up, his eyes full of unmistakable concern. "Y/n is gone. She hasn't checked in on the radio yet, and all I've got so far is static."

Emily frowned and stepped closer. "What do you mean 'gone'? She should be here with you."

"After you left, she said she was following up on a lead," he explained hastily, pulling out his phone to call you. "She got a message from you, Emily. She was supposed to meet with one of your informants, alone."

The person addressed froze in her position, her usual authority gone as she shook her head. "I didn't send her a message. I never wanted her to leave without backup.“

The atmosphere in the room became tense as the team members realized that something had gone seriously wrong. A hint of panic hung in the air as they began to consider the possible consequences. The concern for you, which had appeared so suddenly and without warning, drove them on.

At that moment, Garcia, the team's IT specialist, stormed into the room with a worried look on her face. Her normally cheerful and colorful demeanor had given way to a serious look. "We have a big problem," she began, placing a laptop on the table and sharing the screen with the group.

"I've detected irregularities in the network," she explained, typing quickly to check the security logs. "It looks like the FBI has been hacked. Someone has infiltrated our communication channels and may have tampered with everything sent or received today."

Realization struck like a bolt of lightning, and everyone in the room's eyes widened in horror. "That means the message to y/n was a trap," JJ muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Damn it! We have to find her, and fast," Morgan said, his hands clenching into fists. "We have no idea who did it or what they plan to do with her."

Emily took command, her voice calm but firm. "Okay, we need to mobilize all resources. Garcia, check every lead we have. Luke and Rossi, double check the last known locations from her phone. Tara, JJ, I want all available teams ready. We can't waste any time.“

Concern for you brought the team back together, determination burning in their souls. They knew that the Brotherhood of Silence had probably made a significant move and had you in their custody.

Garcia worked feverishly on her laptop as she collected data and analyzed the lines of communication. "I'll scour everything we have. Something has to lead us to y/n."

Reid went through your last known movements, his sharp memory searching for clues he might have missed. "Your car is equipped with a GPS tracker. If we find the signal, we can pinpoint her last location."

Tara and JJ began briefing the other teams while they planned the next steps with Emily. Everyone was focused, their concern for you drove them, and they knew they would do anything to bring you back.

The clock was ticking and the Brotherhood of Silence had a disturbing lead. The enemy was well prepared, and the tracks were carefully covered.

Meanwhile, you were held in a dark room, far from any help. The cold floor pressed against your skin. You were alone, and without contact with the outside world or your team. The way back would be dangerous and full of terror. But you were not one to give up easily.

The game had begun.

When you came to, you were lying on the cold floor of a darkened room. The air was stuffy and heavy, and your thoughts were in chaos. Your hands were tied, your legs immobile. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the dim light.

Lucien Kane stood before you, enveloped in an aura of eerie serenity. Her eyes sparkled coldly, and a smile played around her lips that did not bode well. "Welcome, Agent y/l/n," she said in a voice that sounded like velvety darkness, intimidating and threatening. "I hope your journey here was not too uncomfortable."

You tried to sit up, but your limbs were still weak. "What do you want from me?" you asked, your voice firm even though your heart was beating on your tongue. Lucien walked leisurely around you, as if she were guarding a trophy. "You are an extraordinary woman, y/n. Your skills, your willingness to take risks - you are a threat to us. But I also see the potential that lies dormant within you."

"Potential?" you asked, trying to organize your thoughts and find a way out. "You kidnap me and talk about potential? You are insane."

Lucien Kane laughed softly, a sound that echoed. "Maybe. But in today's world, you have to be insane to change things. The Brotherhood of Silence is more than just a group. We are a movement, a vision for a new order.

You felt the anger rising within you. A warming fire in the cold of the room. "Your vision is nothing but terror and murder. You believe you are above the law, but my team and I will hunt you down and put an end to this bullshit."

Lucien leaned closer, her face inches from yours. "The law is weak. It serves those who control it, not those who suffer under it. The choice is yours, y/n. You can become part of something greater or perish fighting us."

You returned her gaze with an iron determination and no fear whatsoever. "I will never be one of them. Your world is a lie, built on fear and destruction."

Lucien straightened up, a hint of regret and menace in her eyes. "Then I fear your time here will be very painful."

She signaled to a guy in the corner who approached with a syringe in his hand. You knew what was coming, but refused to panic. Instead, you looked for a spark of hope, a way to escape as the needle neared your skin again.

"We won't break you, but we will make you join us," she whispered to you as the anesthetic flowed into your veins. "You can take my freedom, but not my will, Kane."

Lucien watched as your eyelids grew heavy and you sank into the darkness. "We'll see, y/n. We'll see."

[mooredanxieties]

It takes one to know one

Article: The FBI isn't just hunting psychopaths, they're head-hunting them too, offering competitive pay and benefits in the hopes of using one demented mind to catch another. Sure, we're familiar with the stereotype of the FBI profiler, swaggering onto a crime scene, fitting the pieces together like a master puzzler with his 1000-piece jigsaw. In reality, these profilers should be likened to harridans reading a cup of spent tealeaves- passing off their active imagination as incisive fact.

Fact Check: Drunk Iowa Driver's Alcohol Level Was Nearly Eight Times Legal Limit Article: Florida Woman Busted For DUI Tells Cop, "This Is What I Get For being a bridesmaid" Press Pass: South Carolina Man Attacked Grandmother Over Bizarre Chick Salad Mix-Up Press Pass: Open Gown, A Universal Hospital Indignity, Leads To Indiana Man's [unreadable]

Another Shrike In the Nest?

by Frederica Lounds

As reported before by Tattlecrime, the FBI maintains jurisdiction in the case of Garret Jacob Hobbs, the Minnesota Shrike. But as days turn to weeks, desperation has begun to take hold amongst the investigators. An embarrassing truth is beginning to emerge: There are no new leads on the whereabouts of the Shrike's seven missing victims. As families await any word at all about their lost daughters, the case looks as though it has stalled. Tip lines are open, but they have so far yielded little to nothing. Where lie these poor women who deserve a proper funeral? When approached for comment on the investigation, things with Graham took a surprising and dark turn. Upset at the probity of the questions at hand, Graham threatened, "It's not very smart to piss of a guy who thinks about killing people for a living." A statement like this calls into question the very mind and method of Will Graham and his FBI apologists. This is a man who skirted normal FBI... Read More

It Takes One To Catch One?

PHOTO EXLUSIVE - INSIDE THE LEEDS HOME

Exclusive photos of house where the Jacobi family was slaughtered.

The Jacobi home nestled in a sleepy suburb of Chicago that was startled awake by the shocking murder that has changed the area forever. Residents that have lived in the area for almost twenty years have said that they will now consider moving. See the disturbing exclusive photos inside.

Insane Fiend Consulted in Mass Murders by Agent He Tried To Kill

by Freddie Lounds

FEDERAL MANHUNTERS, stymied in their search for the Tooth Fairy, have turned to the most savage killer in captivity for help. Hannibal the Cannibal has gotten a call from a very special visitor- none other than Will Graham himself. I saw it with my own eyes, Graham coming form the main entrance to the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane on a recent afternoon. This mysterious visit had this reporter curious to its nature. What could Graham, who was almost a victim of Lecter himself, have to discuss with the Mad Doctor? A bit more digging lead me to face to face discussion with Will Graham. Needless to say he was evasive. But I was able to suss out that Graham has begun working for the FBI again on the Tooth Fairy investigation. And he was in fact visiting Lecter to help him get information on the Tooth Fairy murders. Is this really where to FBI has sunk? Hiring a man with questionable stability to get information form a clinically insane psychotic? If this is where the FBI has been able to take this investigation, this reporter is worried. Worried for the family left behind by the Leeds and Jacobi murders. And worried for the next family on whatever deranged list the Tooth Fairy has made. For surely there will be a next family. There have been three so far the the Tooth Fairy shows no sign of stopping. And frankly- what's to stop him? Certainly no local police agencies. Certainly no the FBI who have done nothing to further the investigations since they took over several months ago.

CANNIBAL KILLER FEEDS THE FEDS

[alt] FBI IN BED WITH THE DEVIL

[alt] TOOTH FAIRY INVESTIGATION BUNGLED BY FEDS?

Desperation Leads to Partnership with Cannibalistic Killer The recent apparent partnership between the FBI and Hannibal Lecter has this reporter wondering if there is anyone with whom the FBI won't partner. One wonders the validity of whatever information can be gleaned from someone who is so clinically insane as to devour those around him. How much can Lecter be trusted not to give misleading information to protect perhaps a fraternity of killers with whom he would most definitely be a member. And what does Lecter get from all this? Special privileges? Or maybe just the excitement of getting inside information on the violent nature of the Tooth Fairy crimes. This would no doubt a source of great pleasure for someone so diabolical in nature. I wonder how this makes the families of the victims feel. To know that Hannibal the Cannibal is drooling over the bloody remains of the lost loved ones. Is whatever little information can be provided by this this 'expert' killer worth making the victim's families continue to suffer?

[stupittmoran]

In 1992 a man that had no record of violence whatsoever was approached and entrapped by the feds illegally.

After he was sent the wrong court date and failed to show up, his innocent son, dog, and wife (while holding their infant daughter) were all slaughtered because of it.

Randy Weaver and his family lived in an isolated cabin in the mountains of Ruby Ridge, Idaho.

An undercover federal agent targeted him and entrapped him into selling him a sawed-off shotgun.

The agent ingratiated himself to Weaver for weeks. He kept asking Weaver if he would sell him a shotgun. Weaver initially hesitated but finally agreed. Then, the agent asked him if he could saw it off first since he didn't have the tools. Though he warned FBI guy it was illegal to do so, he was nice enough to do it anyway. The agent then also had him drive out of the way across State lines to add charges.

After Weaver was sent the wrong court date and (understandably) failed to show up, the feds used this as permission to do anything and everything they could to take him down.

Marshals called in military aerial reconnaissance and had photos studied by the Defense Mapping Agency. They prowled the woods around Weaver’s cabin with night-vision equipment. They had psychological profiles performed and installed $130,000 worth of long-range solar-powered spy cameras. They intercepted the Weavers’ mail. They even knew the menstrual cycle of Weaver’s teenage daughter, and planned an arrest scenario around it.

On August 21, Marshals outfitted in full camouflage and carrying machine guns trespassed onto the Weavers’ property. Three marshals circled close to the Weaver cabin and threw rocks to provoke the Weavers’ dogs. As Weaver’s 14-year old son, Sammy, and Kevin Harris, a family friend, ran towards the barking, a marshal shot and killed his dog. Sammy Weaver fired in the direction those shots came from. As he was leaving the scene, a marshal shot him in the back and killed him. Harris responded by fatally shooting a federal marshal who had fired seven shots at them.

Snipers from the FBI Hostage Rescue Team were sent in the next day and ordered to shoot to kill any adult male outside the Weaver cabin. Randy Weaver was shot in the back after he stepped out of his cabin. As he struggled to return back inside, they shot and killed Vicki Weaver (his wife), who was standing in the cabin door holding their 10-month old baby.

From the testimony of Randy Weaver: "On August 22, 1992, completely without warning of any kind, an FBI sniper shot and killed my wife, Vicki. He was using a .308 caliber sniper rifle with a specially weighted barrel and a 10-power scope. He was using match grade ammunition. He had years of training to kill. I heard him testify at the trial that he wanted to kill. He shot my wife in the head and killed her. She was not wanted for any crime. There were no warrants for her arrest. At the time she was gunned down, she was helpless. She was standing in the doorway of her home. She was holding the door open for me and Sara and for Kevin Harris. She was holding Elishe a our 10-month-old baby girl, in her arms. As the bullet crashed through her head, she slumped to her knees, holding Elisheba tightly so she would not drop her. We took the baby from her as she lay dead and bleeding on our kitchen floor."

Weaver and Harris, who never fired any shots at FBI agents, surrendered after an 11-day siege.

Thankfully after all of this was said and done, the FBI conducted an "internal investigation" and guess what? They did nothing wrong. SHOCKER.

Randy Weaver and his daughters filed a wrongful death suit for $200 million which was related to the killing of his wife and son. In an out-of-court settlement in August 1995, the federal government awarded Randy Weaver $100,000 and it also awarded $1 million to each of his three daughters.

The government did not admit that it had committed any wrongdoing in relation to the deaths of Sammy and Vicki.

The moral of the story is, if the government wants to kill you, they'll find a way to do it. They are not your friend. They do not have your best interests at heart.

If you are an enemy of the state, if they don't like you, the Constitution seemingly doesn't apply.

These federal agencies (FBI, CIA, ATF, USMS, etc.) Do whatever they want, stay in power indefinitely, and have effectively unlimited funds. Not only should they be defunded, they should be abolished entirely. They do nothing but make us less safe and are wholly incompatible with a free society.

The fact that people want to give the government more power, more control, and take away our means of defense (gun control) is absolutely beyond me. If they could pull this off in the 90's they can do it now. I assure you.

Never give up your guns. Your government will kill you.

Dylan Allman on Twitter/X

[senorabond]

Rumor Has It (Peña x f!reader x Pike)

Pairings: Javier Pena x f!reader; Marcus Pike x f!reader; future Pena x f!reader x Pike

Chapter 1 Summary: You've recently transferred from a promising job in D.C. to Texas when DEA Special Agent Javier Peña approaches you with his current case. Rumor has it you have an in with the FBI art crimes unit, and the DEA could use your skills and connections on a suspected narcos money laundering case. You need to do well on this case to prove yourself, but you're not sure Marcus Pike will even help after the way you left.

Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI), Mature-to-Explicit sexual content, additional warnings may be added for future chapters

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex and masturbation (f), previous sexual relationship, office romance, references to gossip and slut shaming, sexist/patriarchal bullshit, daydreaming about "little Peña"

Reader/Character Notes: Reader is fem!afab; No mention of Reader’s body size, shape, composition, or skin color.

Words: 4.4k

a/n: I started writing this thinking it'd be a quick and dirty PWP, but then the plot took over and I'm not sorry. Time/setting is pretty loose. This wasn't "officially" beta'd - all errors and weird formatting are my own. However, a very special thanks and kisses for @azure-waves and @kilamonster for reading early versions of this! 😘 Additional author's notes at the end.

Masterlist

Rumor Has It: Chapter One

Javier Peña thinks he’s hot shit. He struts about the office like he runs the place and conducts briefings like he's holding his own personal court. It'd be easier to chalk it up to pure ego and ignore him if he didn't actually have such an impressive resume to back it up. Unfortunately, that means putting up with yet another cocksure male flirting and fucking his way through the office your respective agencies share. At least he's easy on the eyes. 

Since moving to Houston six months ago for a new position with the U.S. Customs and Border Protection, you'd clocked at least four broken hearts in Agent Peña's wake. In his defense, there are far more smiles than tears in the women's restroom when his name comes up in whispered conversation. You haven't heard this much gossip about a single guy since your senior year of high school when it was rumored that three cheerleaders got knocked up by the same football player as a pregnancy pact. For the record, only two girls were actually pregnant, and the alleged father ran off with the team’s water boy a few years out of college. They made a cute couple.

Favorite topics of conversation among Peña's admirers are his tight pants, who he's purportedly slept with, how good he must be in the sack, and contending reports of how big his dick actually is. Just that day you overheard one guy in the breakroom swear to a colleague that he'd seen ‘little Peña’ twitch while the DEA agent was briefing the latest developments in his investigation. You barely managed to hide your snort in your coffee, but had to admit the mental image was intriguing.

While not morally opposed to sleeping with somebody in the same office (that'd make you a hypocrite), you personally wouldn't want to risk the potential fallout of fooling around with someone as high profile as Agent Peña. The unfortunate reality is that women always bear the brunt of those consequences, and you aren't interested in putting your career on the line for a good dicking. As much as you may desperately need one. 

You'd been out a few times since moving to the area, but calling those disasters “dates” would be too generous. One such encounter seemed like it was going well, until the guy answered a call from his mother, got into a shouting match with her over the phone, then cried over the bread basket. You promptly excused yourself and blocked his number from the cab ride home. 

Since that night, the only dates you’d had were with some quality home entertainment and your trusty vibrator. The Magic Wand hadn’t failed you yet. Last night you enjoyed a delicious orgasm while watching a particularly excellent video featuring two men worshiping a woman’s body. That lucky bitch. It’d been way too long since you’d gotten laid, and it was starting to take its toll. Even with the regular, self-attained orgasms, you'd begun losing focus at work. Your mind frequently wanders into sexy daydreams about impossible scenarios in the war room. 

At your desk, you think back to what the guy said in the breakroom about little Peña and giggle to yourself. That'd be a sight to see, and would certainly liven up a boring case briefing. Your thoughts drift, and a fantasy begins to take shape. 

Agent Peña stands at the end of the conference table, commanding the attention of everyone in the room. One hand on his hip holds his charcoal suit jacket back; the other gestures behind him to the slides displaying the latest developments in his investigation. The lights are dimmed but his signature tight pants don’t leave much to the imagination. Your gaze takes him in slowly, lazily almost. Expressive eyebrows give way to deep set brown eyes. An aquiline nose slopes to meet his trademark mustache, and his lips make the perfect pout as he speaks. The broad motherfucker has a chest and shoulders for days, and his neck is almost too big for his collared shirt. When he moves his arms, the sleeves of his suit jacket are drawn tighter around his biceps. Down, down your eyes go, over the plane of his abdomen, past the unobtrusive belt buckle, and settle on the obvious bulge down the left side of his crotch. You can’t help but admire the outline of Peña’s cock; it twitches, and saliva floods your mouth as you squeeze your thighs tightly, your body responding of its own accord. Agent Peña’s timbre changes and you realize he’s said your name - you look up at him like a deer in headlights. “Like what you see?” 

You hear your name again, but his mouth hasn't moved beyond a knowing smirk…

“Hel-lo?” You shake yourself out of your daydream only to realize somebody has actually been saying your name. 

To your abject horror, the real Javier Peña stands next to your desk, a manila folder in his hands and a quizzical brow lifted in your direction. 

“What? Yeah? What do you want?” 

The questions fly out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. To further your mortification, you can feel heat blooming across your chest and face. He knows - he has to know - what is going through your head. Someone must have turned on the heat in the building, it's sweltering all of a sudden.

Peña shifts his weight onto his left leg, his right knee bent slightly. “I’m Javier Peña with the DEA -”

“I know.” Again, with the blurting. 

“Right.” He works his jaw slightly. “I was told you were the one to come talk to.” 

You focus on the manila folder in his hands and refuse to let your traitorous eyes dip any lower. They're just hands, for Christ’s sake. Large, strong hands. 

“Yeah? About what?” Is your voice breathier than usual?

Peña fidgets with the folder, then leans over and drops it in front of you. His thumb swipes at the corner of his mouth and he places both hands on his hips. There’s an agitated tension in his stance, and he shifts from foot to foot like a horse ready to bolt. 

“You’re with Customs,” he says, as though his meaning was obvious.

It's your turn to lift a brow at him.

“Yep. That I am.” 

It’s easier to pull yourself together with something tangible in front of you to focus on. You flip the folder open and start leafing through its contents. There are copies of bank transactions, transcripts from what you assume are wiretaps, and surveillance photos featuring two Latino men in well tailored suits outside a storefront, one of them holding a briefcase. This was business, this was work – you could do this. 

Peña clears his throat and smoothes down his mustache, the fingers of his left hand drumming on his hip. You wonder if he’s always this twitchy or if something could be making him nervous.

“My investigation is centered around these two men,” he waves a hand vaguely at the photos. “They run the stateside money laundering operations for some heavy cartel hitters, but they like to throw in some legitimate business dealings as well just to muddy the waters.” 

He pauses to clear his throat. 

“Uh huh…,” you prompt, looking up in time to see him tugging at his fitted collar. This was starting to get interesting. It’s obvious he came over to ask for your help with his case, but he seems to be doing everything he can to avoid saying those three little words, ‘I need help.’ What a typical man. 

Leaning back in your chair with the folder and its contents in hand, you find it much easier to take in the man standing before you. It's no longer like staring into the sun, however sexy that sun may be. The Great Javier Peña, reduced to an average fed. You can’t help but be a bit disappointed.

Peña sucks in a breath like he's going to keep speaking, then wordlessly proffers his hand to ask for the folder. You pass it back into his hands and keep your expression neutral. Flipping through the photos, he finds what he's looking for and places it on your desk. 

“That was taken outside an art gallery in Dallas. I think they know we’re closing in on some of their more lucrative sources of income and are trying something new.” 

You look more closely at the photo in front of you and nod. “Art classes?” The second the joke leaves your mouth you cringe inwardly. Peña’s jaw twitches as his eyebrows scowl a fraction of an inch closer. Not the time or place.

“The gallery is run by a couple in their sixties, Frank and Harriet Mansford. I think they’re working with these guys to make some kind of art deal.” You gesture to the chair opposite your desk and he accepts the invitation to sit down. 

“So, tell me, Agent Peña – where exactly does Customs come in? How do I fit into this picture?” Leaning forward, elbows propped on your desk, you fix Peña with what you hope is a confident stare. His fingers worry over the corner of his chair’s armrest. 

“Narcos have gotten more sophisticated in their laundering operations, but this wouldn’t be the first time they’ve used art sales to clean their money.” His gaze is steady, but his fingers continue on their restless path. 

“Unless they’re smuggling stolen goods into or out of the country–” 

“They are,” Peña interjects. “I believe they are.” He lets out a frustrated breath. “I don’t have the evidence yet, but I’ve already been looking into this gallery. They specialize in European art – so they’re likely getting at least some of it from abroad. And an international sale would make the paper trail harder to follow.” 

“As long as they’re legitimately purchasing or selling the artwork–” You hold up a calming hand as the agent makes to interrupt again. “Agent Peña, I’d like to help, but unless their crimes touch the border, it’s out of my jurisdiction.” 

“I know. But that’s not the only reason I’m talking to you.” Peña takes a deep breath like he's gearing up for something and you brace yourself. 

“I don’t know anything about art, ma’am.” He gives you the closest thing to a self-deprecating grin you think he’s capable of. “I’ve been trying to get the FBI’s art squad on this, but I can’t even get someone to take my calls – I don’t have an in.” He glances surreptitiously to see if anybody else is in earshot. 

Your gut does an anxious flip. Please, don't let this be going where you think it’s going. He licks his lips and hesitates, avoiding your eyes. 

“Word is you might know somebody in D.C.” 

Your heart stutters. Shit. 

Sounds like Peña isn’t the only subject of rumors around here.

---

Great, just great. You left D.C. to get away from people treating you differently because of who you choose to sleep with, but it looks like the rumors followed you all the way to fucking Texas. 

You take a good, hard look at the man sitting across from you. For a moment, you seriously consider telling him he can go fuck himself. While social blackmail isn’t something you’re willing to tolerate after everything you’ve done to start fresh, you don’t want to miss your first real opportunity to get involved in a case since arriving in Texas. Javier Peña may be a god amongst mere mortals in this town – you’d learned enough about his career to know it wasn’t all bullshit – but you weren’t going to let him get away with using you for your contacts at the FBI. Well, contact – singular.  

“The ‘word’ is?” You quote back at him icily. “And what word is that, Agent Peña?” Leaning back in your chair, you cock your head to the side a bit and rest your elbows on the arm rests. His mustache twitches the slightest bit at this change in your body language and tone of voice, but he doesn’t respond. You might be overplaying your hand here, but you’ll take that risk to find out how far he’s willing to go with this approach. Not wanting to be the first to break, you let the uncomfortable silence stretch. 

Right when you start to think you’ve missed the mark and he’s going to walk away without another word, he nods, eyes never leaving yours. Mirroring your pose, he tents his fingers and licks his lips again. You force yourself not to look at his mouth.

“I’m not stupid,” he states. Here it comes. “I know what people say about me around here.”

Wait, what? Schooling your features, you decide to see how this plays out.

“I know you haven’t been here very long, but I’m sure you’ve heard some of the office gossip already.” He shifts in his seat and hikes his pant legs up, casually propping one ankle on a knee. You pride yourself on not looking at his crotch. 

At that moment, a woman walks by your desk and gives the two of you a thorough once over. You stare her down until she meets your eyes, the smirk forming on her lips immediately dying. She scurries away and you turn back to find Peña giving you a bit of a smirk, and a certain glint appears in his eyes.  

“Agent Peña–”

“Javi, please.” The balls on this guy.

“Agent,” you repeat purposefully, “I’m not sure what, if anything, you know about me.” You pause to take a steadying breath, but Peña continues in earnest. 

“I know you worked with the FBI art squad on a number of cases during your time in D.C. that resulted in the arrest of several high-profile members of a forgery ring smuggling pieces into the country for sale on the black market.” 

You blink. That wasn’t what you were expecting. At all. 

He keeps talking. “But that was only in the last year or so. Before that, you worked your way up as a field agent and investigator at major ports of entry, developing a specialty in high-value contraband.” Peña slowly runs his palms over his thighs; the man is in perpetual motion.

As you listen to Javi rattle off various highlights and accolades that sound like they came directly from your personnel file, you notice the change in his demeanor and tone. He speaks matter-of-factly like he’s reciting a brief, but there’s a hint of something else in his tone besides simple curiosity. 

“And then you landed the D.C. assignment. From what I hear, you could’ve been running that unit in a few years, but instead you took a boring ass admin job out here.” He gestures vaguely around you. This is where he’s comfortable – when he’s the one in charge, telling you what’s what. 

“You’ve sure heard a lot about me, Agent Peña.” Your tone is cool and measured. 

“Why?” He leans forward and braces his elbows on spread knees. His piercing eyes level with yours, pupils wide and locked in.

“‘Why’ what?”

“Why’d you leave D.C.?”

A glance out to the common area nearby confirms there’s nobody within earshot, but you still lower your voice when you say, “You already seem to know everything there is about me.” Pausing, you feel your pulse flutter in your neck. “I would think you’ve heard that part as well.” 

He’s testing you. That’s how guys like him operate. They pin you down to see if you’ve got enough in you to fight back. Fighting back is what earns their respect. The smile Peña gives you is subtle, edging on mischievous.  

 “I’ve heard plenty on that topic,” he confirms with a gentle nod. “There are a few prevailing theories.” He counts off the rumors on his fingers and glances up to see your reactions to each. 

Pissed off the wrong politician is met with an eye roll. 

Moved here for a boyfriend – “...or girlfriend?” Javi checks – earns an exasperated sigh.   

“You fucked your way around–” Javi stops abruptly when an indignant sound escapes your mouth. This reaction sends Javi’s eyebrows dancing.  

Kicking yourself, you decide there’s only one course of action: honesty. Keeping your voice low, you lean over your desk and Javi follows until your faces are barely a foot apart. You force yourself to look directly into his eyes as you say your piece.

“I didn’t ‘fuck my way around’ anything. Not that it’s any of your fucking business, but I had a consensual relationship that never once interfered with our professional conduct or the work at hand. Got it?” Javi doesn’t speak, but there’s a glint in his eyes as they roam over your stony expression, lips pursed in a contemplative pout. 

“Once the rumor mill starts, it’s only a matter of time before the woman is left to deal with the consequences – not that I’d expect you to care about such things.” You practically spit the last words out before you can stop yourself. 

The air stills between you. Peña nods as if to himself, then leans even closer, until you can smell his spicy cologne. “Let’s set the record straight about one thing right now, Agent.” 

You swallow thickly and look anywhere but at his eyes – the long line of his nose, the cut of his jaw, the stubble on his cheek. His voice drops into a deeper register when he says, “I don’t give a shit who you choose to fuck or not – as long as it doesn’t get in the way of me getting the job done. We’re all adults here and can make our own grown-up choices.” He raises a finger, and points first to you, then himself as he speaks. “My one rule is: I don’t judge you, you don’t judge me.” 

He pauses, giving you a second’s reprieve. “Are we on the same page now?” 

You nod once, gritting your teeth at his condescending tone. Back in a normal register he says, “Good. Now about this investigation of mine…” 

Peña retreats and gestures at the case documents underneath where your arms were folded on top of your desk. You look down, having almost forgotten his whole reason for being here in the first place. 

“Agent Peña…” you start, and again, he interrupts.

“Please, I asked you to call me Javi.” The fucker winks at you – winks. 

“Javi,” you grind out, playing his game. “I don’t know what you think I can do for you, unless this whole thing is to try and get me to –” 

“Don’t finish that sentence.” His voice is a rumble in his chest. “Don’t insult me like that, and don’t insult yourself.” Javi points at the desk. “I came here asking for help because you’re a damn good agent with experience in this shit. If you want to show this office that you’re not going to back down from another fight just because some dickless piss-ant is spreading rumors, this is your chance.”

You let his words sink in and hate that he’s right. You did back down from the fight in D.C., the second it got difficult. Your pride was wounded and you ran away with your tail between your legs at the first opportunity. With a steadying breath, you sigh and start organizing the documents and photos.

“I’ll take a look at everything and see what I can come up with.” Peña begins to stand, and you cut in, “But I can’t promise I can get you in with the FBI.” 

You haven’t spoken to Special Agent Marcus Pike since you left D.C. six months earlier. If you were honest with yourself, you missed the time you two spent together, even when you weren’t having amazing sex. Getting takeout from his favorite Thai place and watching an old movie, or reviewing case notes over pizza after hours in the war room. Marcus was the most decent guy you’d ever known, and you hadn’t even answered the few times he called to check in your first couple months in Texas. It’d serve you right if he refused to speak to you ever again, if you could swallow your pride long enough to call him up.

“I’ll take whatever I can get at this point.” Peña sticks a hand out to shake. You join him on your feet and grasp his hand firmly. Some of your confidence was returning. 

“I never pegged you as the desperate type, Javi.” You hoped your smile was enough for the agent to hear your words as the playful banter you’d intended. Fortunately, he huffed a quiet laugh and nodded appreciatively, boldly letting his eyes wander over you. The heat of his gaze leaves pleasant tingles in its wake. 

“I’ll swing by tomorrow to talk about next steps.”

The agent departs, and you sit back down at your desk with a long sigh. As you watch the man walk away, your reverie from earlier comes back in startling focus with new details. You think back to how commanding and gruff his voice had sounded with his face so close to yours. The scent of his cologne lingered – spicy, with a hint of citrus and something else you couldn’t identify. How his thick fingers splayed over his hip or massaged the arm of his chair as he spoke. The crease in the middle of his bottom lip when he swiped at the corner of his mouth.

Clearing your throat, you try to focus your attention on the stack of papers and photos in front of you. You couldn’t let your libido cloud your judgment now that you had a real case to sink your teeth into. You’d always prided yourself on your ability to compartmentalize, but your head was still swimming after the man had been in your cubicle for, what – ten minutes? 

You’ve certainly got your work cut out for you. 

***

Washington, D.C.

6 months earlier

“You don’t have to do this.” Marcus stands next to your desk as you finish packing your few personal belongings into an empty cardboard box. “I’ll talk to my guys, you don’t need –”

You still him with a hand. “Marcus, please. I’m choosing to do this; it’s a really good opportunity.” You hope he believes that. 

Marcus sighs and rubs a hand over his face. After looking around to check that you and he were alone in the emptying building, Marcus leans into your space. “You’re telling me this has nothing to do with us?” His voice is deep, intimate.

He’s close enough for you to feel the warmth emanating from his body, and you catch a whiff of the aftershave that always leaves you feeling a bit heady. How is it still so strong even after a full day’s work? The frisson you experience whenever your bodies are in close proximity hasn’t diminished in the slightest, even after months of fucking on the sly. 

You’d both maintained your professionalism at the office; you respect each others’ boundaries and careers too much to get sloppy in the workplace. The only thing that changed around the office since you started sleeping with Marcus was the other agents. Their eyes followed you around the office, conversations sputtered to a halt when you entered the breakroom, and snatches of whispered conversation filled your cubicle when they didn’t know you were there.  

Clearing your throat, you force your eyes to meet his intense gaze. “Yes, Marcus, that’s what I’m saying.” 

 Marcus is a great agent, and an even greater guy. You know he’d want to stick up for you – as a fellow agent, and as a friend – but it’d only make things harder for you. Already your caseload had begun to dwindle and you were being consulted less and less often on issues squarely in your area of expertise. After several fruitless conversations with your supervisor, you weren't about to sit around and wait for your career to die – no matter how mindblowing the sex was. 

The box is packed with your personal belongings and an assortment of stolen office supplies as your last petty ‘fuck you’ to the endemic sexism and double standards that plague federal law enforcement.

“Hey,” Marcus takes your hand in both of his and strokes his thumb over your pulse point as he perches a hip on the corner of your bare desk. “I can tell there’s something more to the story, and you obviously don’t want to tell me what it is so I’m not going to push…” 

You roll your eyes at him teasingly and he huffs out a laugh, then pulls you closer so your hand is in his lap. He keeps stroking that sensitive part of your wrist and something in you thrums to life. “But?” You look at your joined hands. “I know there’s a but in there.”

“But – you know you can always talk to me. About whatever.” He shrugs a noncommittal shoulder and you step even closer, bracketing one of his legs between your own. His breath falters a bit as you turn one of his large hands over and graze your fingertips across his palm with a featherlight touch.

“If you ever need anything, please…” His voice drops into the register you only ever hear him use in private. 

Fuck it – you’d been so careful and were still dealing with the consequences. Might as well have a little fun on your last day. You place a firm hand on Marcus’ thigh and glide it up to his hip. 

“There is one thing I need right now.” You feel a bit giddy at your recklessness, but any nerves you might have are quelled when Marcus runs the tip of his nose up your jawline to your ear. 

“And what’s that? Hm?” He inhales your scent and hums with pleasure. Before you can stop yourself, you shift your hand at Marcus’ hip to his crotch. When you feel how hard he already is you release a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. 

Marcus inhales sharply through his nose at your touch, then lets out a groan in your ear at your gentle squeeze. “Tell me what you need.” His five o’clock shadow rasps against your sensitive skin as he sucks your earlobe into his mouth. 

“I need you to show me that evidence locker you haven’t shut up about since we met.”

Chapter 2

NOTE: The term “war room” originally described the place military leaders discussed tactics and strategies. It’s frequently used now in federal government, law enforcement, and business settings to describe any room used to strategize and plan – it could have various technologies (computers, A/V, video-teleconferencing, etc.) or be a plain old conference/meeting space with whiteboards.

Additional Author’s Note: I'm finally forcing myself to post this fic I've been working on in an attempt to get over my fear of people reading my work. It's the first fic I've written in the Pedroverse, and quite possibly the only fic I've ever posted publicly as an adult. I would love to know what you think! I really want to become a better writer, so any and all feedback is welcome! Thanks for reading!

[iwasateenagenosferatu]

Federal Bureau of Investigation Report

Subject: The Payne Siblings

Date: July 15, 1976

Case Number: 76-1453-TX

Location: Catharsis, Texas

Overview:

This report outlines the activities and charges against the Payne siblings, who have been identified as the primary figures in a series of ritualistic occult murders across the state of Texas in 1976. The Payne siblings are central figures in a violent cult known as the New Testament of Cain.

Continue for full report.

Subjects:

Sullivan Payne (Leader):

Age: 31

Description: Sullivan Payne is a charismatic and dangerous megalomaniac, considered the ringleader of the New Testament of Cain. His influence over the cult is absolute, with members viewing him as a messianic figure. Payne's rhetoric combines elements of ancient religious texts with modern-day apocalypticism, creating a potent and deadly doctrine.

Known Crimes: Orchestrating ritualistic murders, planning and executing arson attacks on properties believed to be profane or opposing the cult, and conspiracy to eliminate perceived enemies.

Psychological Profile: Displays traits of narcissistic personality disorder and delusions of grandeur. Highly manipulative and persuasive, capable of inciting extreme acts of violence among his followers.

Elizabeth "Bunny" Payne (Recruiter):

Age: 23

Description: Elizabeth, known as "Bunny" within the cult, is noted for her striking beauty and lethal nature. She plays a pivotal role in recruiting young women into the cult, referred to as "Handmaidens." These recruits are often indoctrinated through a combination of psychological manipulation and narcotics.

Known Crimes: Direct involvement in ritualistic killings, procurement and administration of narcotics to recruits, and participation in ceremonies involving necrophilic practices.

Psychological Profile: Exhibits sociopathic tendencies, with a noted lack of empathy and high levels of sadism. Uses her appearance and charm to manipulate and recruit new members into the cult.

Ezekiel Payne (Enforcer):

Age: 34

Description: Ezekiel is the eldest of the Payne siblings, notable for his immense physical strength and significant deformities. His development has been arrested, leaving him with the cognitive abilities of a young child. Despite this, he is fiercely loyal to his siblings and follows their orders without question.

Known Crimes: Directly responsible for the deaths of five Bureau agents, as well as multiple civilians. Frequently involved in the abduction of individuals for ritual sacrifice and uses his strength to enforce compliance and discipline within the cult.

Psychological Profile: Diagnosed with arrested development. Intelligence comparable to a child aged 5-7. Extremely suggestible and obedient to Sullivan and Elizabeth. Shows a propensity for violence when directed.

Conclusion:

The Payne siblings are considered extremely dangerous and pose a significant threat to public safety. Efforts to apprehend and prosecute these individuals are ongoing, with a multi-agency task force dedicated to dismantling the New Testament of Cain and bringing its leaders to justice. Any information regarding their whereabouts should be reported to the nearest FBI field office immediately.

Prepared by:

Special Agent Veronica E. Hayes

Federal Bureau of Investigation

Texas Field Office

[irenehrisrio]

Hotchreid Imaginations behind CM 5x21

One of my favorite episodes. Hotch looks gorgeous in his casual clothes. What impresses me most is Hotch and Reid coming to the unsub's home questioning his family. Their tone and aura are soooo identical which coincidentally fits the theory that couples will get more alike and harmonious after having sex. Can't help thinking of an out-of-office BAU case that fits The snowstorm villa model. Facing a bunch of unsolved mysteries in a small village, the BAU team is asked to investigate into local serial murders. No signals and isolated from the urban areas, the team has to stay in the local inn or cabin in woods or something. It doesn't necessarily have to be only 4 rooms available. When night falls everything becomes unpredictable and crimes begin. Everyone is well settled in their room the first night, however all bothered by the case and the terrifying atmosphere somehow disturbs their mood. The one blank page in the profile theory makes Dr Reid upset, anxiously biting his nails at the same time his mind highly operating and functioning. Unit chief Aaron Hotchner tries to link the clues and pictures of crime scenes are spread out on his neat bed. Neither has a slightest feeling of being sleepy. At some specific moment one of them knocks on the other's door. The next morning no new victims but something has changed. One room was available last night and one was within two FBI agents. Dr Reid is specially tensed, frequently touching his hair and scratching his chin. Seems like everyone is having butterflies in their stomach. Have they find out something unusual? After all, his colleagues are some most elite observers in America. Is Hotch suggesting something that happened last night when he gives ambiguous eye contacts and vague glances time to time? Hundreds of thoughts are getting Reid eaten. He carefully avoid straight body touches with Hotch in case he would show nervousness(which is quite deliberate to his co-workers.)

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Matt Gertz at MMFA:

On the right, the word of the week is “Rubicon.”  MAGA commentators from social media to Fox News are arguing that President Joe Biden and the Democrats passed a point of no return when a Manhattan jury found Donald Trump guilty of 34 felony counts of falsifying business records in connection with a scheme to conceal the hush-money payoff made to a porn star in the final weeks of the 2016 presidential campaign.  They claim Trump is the victim of a politicized prosecution that requires Republicans to respond in kind by trying to throw Democrats in jail.

But Trump’s supporters are just trying to concoct a righteous excuse for doing what they have already done. Trump and the right-wing press spent his presidency teaming up to demand federal criminal probes of his political foes, only for those investigations to collapse when Trump’s own law enforcement appointees assessed the purported Democratic crimes. Indeed, Republicans and Trump appointees have overseen nearly all of the high-profile investigations of political figures conducted over the last decade. When those Republicans and Trump appointees have investigated Republicans, the probes have regularly led to criminal charges and convictions, and when those Republicans and Trump appointees have investigated Democrats, they largely have not.  And for all the right’s claims of politicized prosecutions, the record shows Democratic presidents bending over backward to appear impartial, while Trump as president constantly and publicly accused his political opponents of crimes and demanded their prosecution.

Republicans keep finding Republican crimes

One of the huge holes in the right’s argument is their claim that Biden is connected to Trump’s myriad legal travails.  Manhattan District Attorney Alvin Bragg, who successfully prosecuted Trump, is a Democrat — but he was elected by New York voters and charged Trump under state law, requiring the right to gin up a baroque conspiracy theory to explain how Biden supposedly masterminded the probe.  Fani Willis, the Fulton County district attorney who filed racketeering charges in Georgia over Trump’s election subversion plot, is likewise elected in her own right without a tie to Biden.

Meanwhile, Trump’s classified documents and January 6 federal prosecutions are led by Jack Smith, a political independent who prosecuted politicians of both parties as head of the Justice Department’s political corruption unit. Smith took over probes launched under FBI director Christopher Wray, a Trump-appointed Republican, and received special counsel status from Biden-appointed Attorney General Merrick Garland to keep him walled off from political pressure. Trump is now a convicted felon like many of his former associates, including his former legal fixer Michael Cohen, his former campaign chair Paul Manafort, and his longtime political consigliere Roger Stone. Robert Mueller, a Republican who was appointed as FBI director by President George W. Bush, led their successful prosecutions. Mueller in turn was hand-picked to investigate Russian interference in the 2016 presidential election by Rod Rosenstein, a Republican and a Trump appointee at the Justice Department.

Republicans keep not finding Democratic crimes

At the same time, the MAGA media spent years demanding the Trump Justice Department conduct criminal probes of high-profile Democrats and other public officials who had otherwise tangled with Trump. Fox hosts like Sean Hannity, a close adviser to the former president, would read long lists of purported crimes committed by Trump’s political opponents and demand they face justice. 

But when Republicans and Trump appointees actually tried to turn frothy right-wing media reports into real cases, they failed. Trump led chants of “lock her up” during his campaign against former Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, but FBI Director James Comey — a Republican who oversaw the probe of her use of a private server — recommended no charges against her, and Trump’s law enforcement appointees apparently found no cause to reverse that determination.  Nor did Trump-appointed Republicans bring charges following federal probes of the Clinton Foundation and the Hillary Clinton Uranium One pseudoscandal. And the much-touted probe into the origins of the Russia probe, overseen by a Trump appointee with the full backing of Trump Attorney General William Barr, ended with a whimper.

Ever since the 34-count felony verdict against Donald Trump was handed down last week, the MAGA cult and their mouthpieces have been screeching about a “Rubicon” by demanding frivolous investigations into from Democrats in retaliation.

[codename-mom]

Waterproof

Summary: All the team wheels up for a new case, except Hotch who has to take his leaves. But the team needs his advice about a law point and tries to join him on a phone. The conversation will be... special

Characters: BAU team + Jack

Contents: fluff! /o/

This is a text written for the KidFic CM challenge organized by @imagining-in-the-margins.

PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.

___

The whole team had gathered in the meeting room of the police station where the BAU had been dispatched. The local police had found themselves baffled by a sudden spate of murders in their jurisdiction, so the commissioner had called in the FBI to help identify the perpetrator of these sordid crimes. The profilers took off promptly and began their inquiry as usual. Or almost since they weren't all there. The HR department had forced Hotch to use up some of the leave he'd been piling up for months without ever touching it, so the manager was missing. Which wasn't really a problem in itself, since the group knew how to function without him, the task of coordination falling to Morgan, who had taken over during Foyet's hunt.

Except that a legal point now stood in the way, and the point of view of the ex-prosecutor was essential for the proper management of the case. Crowded around the room's telephone, the federal agents listened impatiently to the dial tone. They were anxious to get his opinion so they could continue their investigations. But was he even available?

“Hello?” came a deep voice they immediately identified.

“Hello Hotch, said Derek, speaking before the others. So…

“DAAAAD!”

They all winced in unison; their eardrums shattered by the high-pitched little voice that had just screamed into the handset. A strange reverberation could be heard at the other end of the line.

“Don't shout, Jack, I'm right there,” his sire's voice calmly retorted.

“Is Jack with you?” Emily frowned, intrigued.

“Yes, he’s taking his bath, so I stay with him.”

Everyone instantly pictured the giant sitting on the bathroom floor, watching over his offspring as he frolicked in the water.

“Who's that?" asked the little boy, curious.

JJ smiled, recognizing the typical behavior of children who abandon all their activities the half-second they see their parents on the phone.

“It’s the team, they’re on a case.”

“Oh! Can I say hi to them?” he demanded with a burst of enthusiasm.

The toddler adored the men and women who worked under his father, whom he considered members of his family, just like his Aunt Jessica or Grandma Ada. Interacting with them always made him extremely happy.

“Yes. Hold on, I'll put you on speaker, Aaron declared before pressing a button. Now, go on.”

“HELLO!” he exclaimed, startling the ex-policeman standing closest to the sound source.

Altogether, with smiles on their faces, the investigators replied:

“Hello, Jack! Hi, buddy! Hello, my sugar paste bear! Hey, kiddo!”

“And I'm taking you off speakerphone because I imagine you're calling to talk about the case in progress,” resumed the head of the agency, whose voice suddenly became clearer.

“You've got it all figured out,” Dave responded, amused by the rambling conversation.

In the background, we could still hear lapping noises and lively onomatopoeia.

“Okay. Give me a quick report and then ask me your question.”

“So, that's it, began Morgan, indifferent to this unusual commotion; the Delaware police called us because this is the third time they've found a body that…”

“Dad! interrupted the youngster, unaware of the stakes in the discussion his father was trying to maintain. Can you shampoo my hair?”

Derek rolled his eyes, annoyed; the others were hilarious, enlivened by this unexpected interlude.

“You already got one yesterday. You don’t need one every day, you know.”

“But I want you to mix my head.”

“What...? Hiccupped the titan before he got what he was talking about. Oh, okay. Hold on, because I need both hands. A moment.”

They then heard some rubbing against the microphone – he must have been trying to wedge the cell phone between his ear and his shoulder – and then his voice resurfaced, a little distorted.

“Turn around. That’s it. Go on.”

As he had spoken all these words in the same tone, Morgan was slow to realize that the last part was addressed to them.

“… Uh… So, I was saying that this is the third time they've found a body, of a homeless person, who…”

“It's too good!” Jack commented blissfully.

JJ and Emily held back their laughter at their colleague's discomfited expression.

“Looks like it. Well, finish rinsing and then you’ll go out. You’re getting cold.”

“No, it's not true!” objected the bather, obviously pounding his fists in the water.

“Your lips are blue, pointed out the seasoned negotiator. Come on, the sooner you get out, the sooner you can watch a movie.”

“CARS!”

“If… if you want.”

Hotch didn't sound like someone delighted to see the production in question. The other parent on the team suspected that the kid had been fixated on this Pixar Studios work for weeks – or longer – and that it must have been playing on a loop every night since the day his descendant first laid eyes on it. Having herself endured a hundred viewings of Winnie-the-Pooh, she could understand his reluctance to see it for the umpteenth time.

“I want!” shouted vigorously Jack.

“Well, rinse then.”

“Can… can I start again?” dared Derek, taken aback by the turn of this phone call.

“Yes, sorry, Morgan. Go on.”

“All the victims, then, live on the streets, and all the injuries recorded on their bodies seem to have been caused by...”

“Wait, cut in his superior, I've got to help Jack out of the tub and dry him off. I’ll be right back.”

He must have put his phone down somewhere nearby because his subordinates could hear what was going on without having to strain their ears too much. The Chicago native sat on a nearby chair, scowling. Rossi patted him on the shoulder to offer some semblance of compassion, but he wore the same playful smile as the other three. Penelope, who was videoconferencing with them, was ecstatic.

“Let’s go! We raise our arms. And then we rub, rub, rub.”

“Rub, rub, rub,” repeated the boy in the same tone.

“Okay. Go get your pajama and bring it here.”

Footsteps scurried away.

“I’m there, go.”

“I've sent you the autopsy report to give you an idea of the problem,” announced the analyst, who nevertheless tried to simplify things.

“Well, hold on, I look at it.”

“Here, Dad! Here is the pajama!”

Morgan, arms folded, tilted his head on the back of his seat with a grunt of exasperation. The girls had to concentrate harder than ever to hold back their hilarity.

“… Are you aware that this top and this bottom don’t fit together?”

“Yes, but I wanted these two,” replied the little boy with a certain determination.

“Okay, abdicated his progenitor with a smile in his voice. Take off your robe, we'll put on the pants first. One leg first. Here. And the second one. Perfect. Hands up now.”

“Like the bad guys,” laughed the kid.

“That’s it, like the bad guys. Watch your ears. One arm after the other. Great! You’re almost all set. Go get your slippers.”

Again, they heard someone leaving in a hurry.

“What kind of pajamas did he wear?” inquired Spencer, very attentive to this singular intrusion into the agency manager's daily life.

“Reid!” exploded Derek, outraged to realize that he was finally the only one who cared about the mission's progress.

“What?” croaked the youngest member of the unit innocently.

“He has a Spiderman top and a bottom with lots of dinosaurs.”

“Isn't there a comic book where Spiderman goes back in time to Prehistory?” Prentiss noted, eyebrows furrowed.

Her colleague glared at her, but she smirked back. She didn't want the investigation to continue any less than he did, but it was hard to fight the disturbing element in this conversation. She had therefore taken a step back from the situation and, like her companions, was enjoying this joyfully suspended moment.

“There!” exclaimed Jack as he returned.

“Well, that's the whole panoply, remarked his father, with amusement mixed with a hint of weariness. Sit so I can put your slippers on. Hop! And hop! You’re handsome that way. Wait, I’ll take a picture for the team. Go ahead, strike a pose. Wonderful! Go to the living room now, I’ll be right there.”

And the child sets sail for the third time. Morgan hoped that was for good.

“And here's the star!” announced Hotch, picking up his phone again.

Everyone received a message a few seconds later and everyone – even Derek – rushed to admire the snapshot. They discovered the toddler, hair a mess, grinning from ear to ear, wearing a Spiderman pajama top, a stocking studded with prehistoric saurian and bright red Flash McQueen slippers. He arched his chest with pride, his little fists resting on his hips.

“Oooooh! He's so cute! raved Penelope, safe in her Quantico lair. Can I print it large enough to make a poster?”

“Agreed,” nodded her boss, who wasn't that far from her after all.

“That's all very sweet, but we've got an investigation to conduct and always a question to ask,” grumbled Morgan, who was nervously tapping away on the table.

“What are you waiting for to ask it?”

“Ha, ha. Very funny,” he grumbled as his neighbors laughed.

“You’d better hurry before…”

“DAD!”

Derek left the room.

___

I think this is the shortest CM fanfic I've ever writen and as it's full fluffiness, that was relaxing. I love to imagine moments between Hotch and his son. They can be so cute together. X3

[maryannecrimsworth]

Headcanons

Pairing: Hailey Upton x Single Father! Former FBI profiler! OC! Kristoff "Kris" Aller

Summary: here

Author's note: these are just some ideas I gathered until I can't come up with the first chapter. I hope you like it

First Stake-out

“You know, you can ask me anything” He seemed comfortable in the passenger’s seat, his voice was serene and low. The night was perfectly still, his slow-moving chest and words being the only proof of life in the whole block. Unlike her, he felt easy, and his breathing was silent and light. His gaze was on the streets, focused but unpreoccupied. Hailey, on the other hand, froze for a second, and her breathing stopped when he suddenly spoke. “It’s easier than following me around, you know.”

She quickly turned to him, and their eyes finally met. Her widened look found his cool expression.

“Why did you do it?”

"I'm uncomfortable with this partnership" Hailey admitted with a sharp voice

"This isn't a partnership." He replied almost immediately. "I'm here for a case. Only one. Then you don't get to see me again."

Hailey sustained their shared gaze — she analyzed his features as he grew unsletted before her light blue eyes.

"I don't think you mean that. Any of it." She stated. " It's useless to ask you anything if you're going to answer with lies."

Kris snorted. "Are you serious?"

"Everything about you seems fake." She argued back "So, yes, I'm serious."

"Hmm." His eyes were burnings hers; his annoyance was clear "Why is that?"

"You have a juvenile record, but almost none reports from the police academy. Several promotions, only compliments, even Platt likes you...On paper, you're a perfect cop, but—"

"I turned it all down." His semblance softened; he shook his head slowly as if her suspicions were perfectly reasonable. "Do you wish to know why?"

For a second, Hailey saw his eyes water, and she was ready to say 'yes' — but Kris turned his face away in reflex. "Someone's here." He whispered, now analyzing the empty streets.

They were not alone.

Context

• At first, Hailey didn't like the idea of Kris becoming her new partner; Technically, he wasn't even suppose to know about the case. For some reason, however, Voight trusted Kris — yet, it didn't mean Hailey would trust him

• "C.I Bishop" that's what Ruzek called him. No long after, Hailey figured out why he had this title: during his patrol days, Kris assigned more C.Is and got confessions for many cases. Suspects would talk to him as if he was a priest in the confessional. No wonder he was selected for the first team of the Special Investigations Unit. Few years later, FBI itself selected him and took him to N.Y

• Voight and Platt treated him with respect and warmth; it was unusual to see Trudy being chatty and asking about his daughters nearly every time Kris passed by; Voight would do the same thing, and worse: many times, he would take Kris to his office for some sort of secretive conversation. Hailey could only watch them

• Adam was willing to be his partner; Torres was making up theories Kris very often agreed with; Voight trusted him completely — and it was clear that Kris wasn't excited about getting a desk for himself. But the Sargent teamed him up with Hailey, and the man occupied Jay's former table with discomfort. They both had to admit, it was awkward

Partnership

• There was something off about him, Hailey could tell. No one could possibly be so balanced, light headed and calm as Kris . No true profiler or police officer could be so easy going while watching and analyzing the most horrible scenes she has ever seen. He looked like a pshyco, staring at the crime scenes and victims with a totally blank face. Another odd thing: he didn't come up with any theories on the first days, even though this was his only job

• He looked, sounded, and behaved like a lie, a fraud. And this case was too important for him to mess everything up. Hailey felt she had no other option: she started to investigate him

• It didn't take long until she figured out: his wife suspiciously passed away four years ago; he left FBI for unknown reasons; he has the guardianship of two girls: Amber, 6, his daughter, and Tessa, 14, his niece. She could find nothing about Tessa's mother. He had brilliant ratings and few complaints. On the paper, he was one of the best police officers Hailey has ever known — who suddenly gave up everything to work at a rehab center. He was either an angel or a demon running from his past

• Another problem: he had a juvenile reccord, which required autorization to be accesed. He came to Chicago when he was 17, and got in trouble just a few days after arriving. The only thing Hailey could discover: Voight took care of his case

A bit more about the plot:

"I have a clue." He spoke out of the sudden as soon as the shift began. His eyes shone with an unsettling energy. "A theory, more precisely." He walked over to the board. "The animal-based accelerator, the abandoned factories and now companies. It's evolving, growing like a story-line." The whole unit looked at Kris with confusion. "I looked up the first arsons again. All the buildings once were public places, hospitals, secretariats, stations and so on." They asked how the companies buildings would fit into that, and he went on "They don't aim at the people, but at what the place symbols. At 3 a.m, they go to old community centers, lock whoever is in up, and set fires to it." Silence again. "Mission-oriented type of serial killers. I'm just missing their manifest." "Why you keep saying them?" The team asked. "It's a group. Probably white, young men, trying to make a statement for the whole town to see." Adam, Kim and Kevin glanced at each other, all of them confused and surprised. Voight, Torres and Upton stared straight at Kris. "I made up a list of possible next targets. They might act tomorrow." Then, without questioning, Voight said "So let's get ready."

[rapidprime]

The Troubling Tale of Brian Laundrie: From Fiancé to Fugitive

The story of Brian Laundrie is not just one of a man who lost his way, but of someone who veered off the road into a deep, dark forest of madness and violence. Once seen as the loving fiancé of Gabby Petito, his chilling metamorphosis into a killer is a tale that has gripped the nation with equal parts horror and fascination. Recent revelations from the FBI investigation have exposed a disturbing side of Laundrie, one that was carefully concealed behind a facade of normalcy. His private writings reveal a mind obsessed with violence and destruction, harboring a "mania" that foretold the tragic events that would eventually unfold.

The Troubled Journey: Gabby and Brian's Fateful Road Trip

Gabby Petito and Brian Laundrie set out on what should have been an adventurous cross-country road trip in August 2021. Instead, it became a journey into the heart of darkness. Their relationship, once seemingly solid, began to unravel in the most public way possible. A domestic dispute in Moab, Utah, captured on police body camera footage, hinted at the storm brewing beneath the surface. Gabby’s account of Laundrie grabbing her face, leaving a cut on her cheek, was downplayed by authorities as a "mental health break" rather than domestic violence. However, a photo taken by Gabby that day tells a different story—a face smeared with blood, possibly from having her breathing passages blocked by Laundrie.

The couple's troubled past was not just a series of unfortunate events but a prelude to a tragedy that would shock the world. A letter found by the FBI, written by Gabby, pleaded with Laundrie to stop his verbal abuse, a desperate cry from a woman who believed they were still a "team." Unfortunately, the cracks in their relationship had widened beyond repair, setting the stage for the grim events that followed.

Suspicion and Deceit: Brian Laundrie’s Odd Behavior

After Gabby Petito was reported missing, Brian Laundrie’s actions became increasingly suspicious. Returning alone to his family’s Florida home in Petito’s van on September 1, 2021, without any explanation for Gabby’s absence, Laundrie immediately became a person of interest. Authorities issued an arrest warrant for him, charging him with the unlawful use of a debit card—allegedly Gabby’s—after her death. But before any real answers could be extracted, Laundrie disappeared into the wilds of the Carlton Reserve in Florida, sparking a massive manhunt that captivated the nation.

A Gruesome Discovery: Finding Gabby Petito

The search for Gabby Petito ended in heartbreak. On September 19, 2021, authorities discovered a body matching her description in a remote area of Wyoming’s Bridger-Teton National Forest. The identification process confirmed the worst: it was indeed Gabby Petito, and her death was ruled a homicide by strangulation. The coroner’s report left no doubt that Gabby’s death was a violent act, further deepening the mystery and horror surrounding the case.

The Manhunt: Brian Laundrie's Final Escape

The hunt for Brian Laundrie was nothing short of a media frenzy. Starting on September 13, 2021, the search centered on the Carlton Reserve, where Laundrie’s parents claimed he had gone hiking. Law enforcement agencies deployed an array of resources, from K-9 units and drones to specialized underwater recovery teams, scouring the vast and challenging terrain of the reserve. Despite these efforts, Laundrie remained elusive, turning the search into a spectacle that gripped the nation’s attention.

The case became more than just a search for a fugitive; it was a reflection of the public’s fascination with true crime, fueled by the tragic circumstances and the high-profile nature of the case. Social media buzzed with theories, and news outlets provided round-the-clock coverage, turning the hunt for Laundrie into a national obsession.

The Grim Conclusion: Confession and Suicide

On October 20, 2021, the search for Brian Laundrie came to a grim end. Human remains were found in Myakkahatchee Creek Environmental Park, later confirmed to be those of Laundrie. Alongside the remains was a notebook, which contained what was believed to be Laundrie’s written confession to Gabby Petito’s murder. The autopsy revealed that Laundrie had died from a self-inflicted gunshot wound, bringing this high-profile case to a tragic conclusion.

While Laundrie’s death may have provided some closure, it also left behind many unanswered questions. The discovery of his remains and the confession only added to the mystery, leaving a trail of speculation and sorrow in its wake.

Legal Battles and Aftermath: Seeking Justice

The aftermath of Gabby Petito’s murder has been marked by legal battles and a quest for justice. Her family was awarded $3 million in a wrongful death lawsuit against Brian Laundrie’s estate, a bittersweet victory that did little to ease their pain. The funds are set to benefit the Gabby Petito Foundation, established to fight against domestic violence and aid in the search for missing persons.

In addition to the lawsuit against Laundrie’s estate, Gabby’s parents also filed a separate lawsuit against Brian’s parents, Christopher and Roberta Laundrie, and their attorney, Steven Bertolino. The lawsuit alleges that they knew of Gabby’s death but continued to offer false hope to her family. The legal battle is ongoing, with the Petito family seeking accountability and justice for their daughter.

The Moab Police Department’s Failure: A Missed Opportunity

Gabby Petito’s parents have also filed a $50 million wrongful death lawsuit against the Moab Police Department, accusing the officers of negligence in their handling of the domestic dispute between Gabby and Brian. The lawsuit argues that the officers failed to properly investigate the incident, despite clear evidence that Laundrie had physically assaulted Gabby. Instead of arresting Laundrie or conducting a thorough investigation, the officers separated the couple for the night, a decision that may have had fatal consequences.

The Moab Police Department has denied any wrongdoing, claiming that the officers acted with kindness and empathy. However, the lawsuit has raised serious questions about the department’s handling of domestic violence cases and the need for systemic reform to better protect victims.

Media Coverage and Public Outcry: The Gabby Petito Case's Impact

The Gabby Petito case has sparked widespread debate about the media’s role in covering missing persons cases. While Gabby’s story received extensive coverage, many have pointed out the disparity in attention given to cases involving people of color, particularly Indigenous women and Black men. The mother of Jelani Day, a 25-year-old Black man who went missing around the same time as Gabby, expressed frustration that her son’s case did not receive the same level of national attention.

This unequal coverage reflects broader institutional biases within the media, where stories about young, white victims often dominate the headlines, while cases involving marginalized communities go underreported. The consequences of this disparity are severe, as it deprives families of the public pressure and resources needed to locate their missing loved ones.

A Lasting Legacy: Lessons from the Gabby Petito Case

The tragic case of Gabby Petito and Brian Laundrie serves as a haunting reminder of the dangers of domestic violence and the need for institutional change. Gabby’s story has left an indelible mark on the public consciousness, highlighting the urgent need for better support systems for victims of abuse and greater accountability for those who fail to protect them.

As the legal battles continue and the media coverage persists, the lessons from this case must not be forgotten. The fight against domestic violence is far from over, and the legacy of Gabby Petito should inspire us all to push for a world where such tragedies are no longer possible.

Conclusion

The tragic case of Gabby Petito and Brian Laundrie serves as a stark reminder of the devastating consequences of domestic violence and the systemic failures that often accompany it. While the intense media coverage and legal battles surrounding the case have highlighted the urgent need for institutional reform and better protection for victims, they also underscore the broader societal issues, such as media bias and the unequal attention given to missing persons cases. Gabby Petito's legacy calls for ongoing efforts to address these challenges and prevent future tragedies.

[cagedchoices]

doing some research for peakyverse in a desperate attempt to jumpstart my brain with ideas and i'm just gonna leave some of my history lesson notes here for the moment

The FBI, originally known just as the Bureau of Investigation (or BOI) was founded in 1908, renamed in 1935 (this actually has less to do with this verse and more to do with the R/DR universe as a whole but i wanted to include it anyway)

The Bureau initially focused on white-collar and civil rights cases, including antitrust, land fraud, banking fraud, naturalization and copyright violations, and forced labor. They did handle some matters of national security such as treason and anarchist activity in the States but it was not their main focus until later on, during World War I.

After America declared war against Germany in 1917, the Bureau expanded to include counter-spy business. They were also given the job of rounding up Army deserters and policing millions of German immigrants who were not registered as American citizens.

In 1917, the Bolsheviks took over Russia, causing many Americans to become nervous about talk of worldwide revolution.

Also occurring in 1917, a Russian-born man named Emilio Kosterlitzky joined the FBI at the age of 63. He was appointed a special employee and given more authority due to his extensive military experience and strong international connections. (Emilio's story serves as partial inspiration for my fictional creation Leonid Sokolov, however instead of helping the Bureau as the real life counterpart did, Leonid eventually betrays them and intends to divulge their military intelligence to the Russians.)

On December 2nd, 1919; a US Army deserter named William N. Bishop escaped from Camp A.A. Humphreys (now known as Fort Belvoir) in the northern regions of Virginia. The Military Intelligence division of the Army requested the Bureau's help in finding the soldier and assistant director Frank Burke compiled a heavily detailed profile that was released on December 15th as Identification Order No. 1.

Wanted posters existed well before this obviously, but this was the first time any official government crime-fighting organization had published one. It would put the Bureau firmly in the business of catching fugitives for decades to come and make the Identification Order a staple of criminal catching.

Caleb, having been drafted as a soldier during the war, finds employment with the Bureau after its conclusion. He thinks he's doing the right thing, he doesn't realize how corrupt the Bureau actually is or how many innocents have been harmed because of their protocols.

If/WHEN he finds this out and realizes he can't support this cause of his anymore, he abandons the job, effectively becoming a criminal and a fugitive himself.

[theculturedmarxist]

The Federal Bureau of Investigation has aided a Ukrainian intelligence effort to censor social media users and obtain their personal information, leaked emails reveal.

In March 2022, an FBI Special Agent sent Twitter a list of accounts on behalf of the Security Service of Ukraine (SBU), Ukraine’s main intelligence agency. The accounts, the FBI wrote, “are suspected by the SBU in spreading fear and disinformation.” In an attached memo, the SBU asked Twitter to remove the accounts and hand over their user data.

The Ukrainian government’s FBI-enabled targets extend to members of the media. The SBU list that the FBI provided to Twitter included my name and Twitter profile. In its response to the FBI, Twitter agreed to review the accounts for “inauthenticity” but raised concerns about the inclusion of me and other “American and Canadian journalists.”

The FBI’s attempt to ban Twitter accounts at the request of Ukrainian intelligence is among the most overt requests for censorship revealed to date in the Twitter Files, a cache of leaked communications from the social media giant.

The FBI’s censorship request was relayed in a March 27th, 2022 email from FBI Special Agent Aleksandr Kobzanets, the Assistant Legal Attaché at the US Embassy in Kyiv, to two Twitter executives. Four FBI colleagues were copied on the exchange.

“Thank you very much for your time to discuss the assistance to Ukraine,” Kobzanets wrote. “I am including a list of accounts I received over a couple of weeks from the Security Service of Ukraine. These accounts are suspected by the SBU in spreading fear and disinformation. For your review and consideration.”

The attached document, drafted by Ukraine’s SBU, contained 163 accounts, including mine. (The list is numbered to 175, but some accounts have two corresponding numerical lines).

The listed Twitter profiles, the SBU alleged, have been “used to disseminate disinformation and fake news to inaccurately reflect events in Ukraine, justify war crimes of the Russian authorities on the territory of the Ukrainian state in violation of international law.”

In order “to stop Russian aggression on the information front,” the SBU continued, “we kindly ask you to take urgent measures to block these Twitter accounts and provide us with user data specified during registration.”

The SBU expressed its “gratitude for the existing level of interaction.”

If granted, the users on the list would not only have been banned from Twitter but had their phone number, date of birth, and email address disclosed to both the FBI and SBU.

In response, Yoel Roth, Twitter’s then-Head of Trust and Safety, informed Special Agent Kobzanets and his FBI colleagues that Twitter would “review the reported accounts under our Rules.” But he warned that the list included “a few accounts of American and Canadian journalists (e.g. Aaron Mate).” Therefore, Roth said, Twitter’s review would “focus first and foremost on identifying any potential inauthenticity.”

Roth then suggested that he would be open to suspending authentic accounts if it could be proven that they have a hidden tie to a foreign government. Journalists “who cover the conflict with a pro-Russian stance are unlikely to be found in violation of our rules absent other context that might establish some kind of covert/deceptive association between them and a government,” Roth wrote. “Any additional information or context in those areas is of course welcome and appreciated.”

In his reply, Kobzanets did not directly acknowledge Roth’s concerns about Ukraine’s FBI-abetted effort to censor journalists. “Understood,” Kobzanets told Roth. “Whatever your review determines and action Twitter deem[s] is appropriate.” He also indicated that the FBI would not meet Roth’s request for any “context” that might establish ties between journalists and a foreign government: “Unlikely there will be any additional information or context.”

Inside Twitter, Roth forwarded the FBI request to two colleagues. “This is the output of our meeting with the FBI last week,” he wrote. “The list of accounts is a mixed bag - there's some state media mixed in with a bunch of other stuff - but given the context, I think a deep dive here warranted.” (Roth left Twitter in November 2022).

In an email, I asked Special Agent Kobzanets if he had vetted Ukraine’s censorship request list before sending it to Twitter. I also asked Kobzanets if, after being informed by Twitter’s Roth that the FBI was trying to censor journalists on the SBU’s behalf, whether that had prompted any review or revision of his assistance to Ukrainian intelligence. Kobzanets did not respond.

The FBI’s National Press Office also declined to answer questions. Among several queries, I invoked Twitter’s warning that the FBI’s “assistance to Ukraine” entailed censoring journalists, and asked if that has prompted any changes to the bureau’s collaboration with Ukrainian intelligence.

“While we appreciate your inquiry, as a matter of practice we do not confirm, deny, or otherwise comment on specific interactions nor confirm the veracity of correspondence,” an FBI spokesperson wrote.

The FBI officials copied on the Kobzanets’ exchange with Twitter include Elvis Chan, an Assistant Special Agent in Charge (ASAC) of the FBI’s San Francisco field office, where he manages its Cyber Branch. Chan was active in the FBI’s contacts with Twitter when the social media giant’s censorship of reporting on Hunter Biden’s laptop shortly before the November 2020 election. (As I recently reported, he was also involved in FBI’s decision to forego a direct inspection of the DNC servers and instead rely on the Hillary Clinton-funded cyber firm CrowdStrike in the bureau’s probe of alleged Russian hacking in 2016).

Of the 163 accounts named by the SBU, 34 were suspended and 20 no longer exist. The rest remain active.

Those marked for censorship by Ukraine but remain online include Russian politicians Gennady Zyuganov, a longtime member of Russia’s Communist Party and parliamentarian who lost to Boris Yeltsin in Russia’s 1996 president election; Dmitry Rogozin, Russia’s former Deputy Prime Minister; and Sergey Mironov, a Russian politician and parliamentarian. The list also includes Russian journalists Vladimir Solovyov, a television news host; and Margarita Simonyan, editor-in-chief of the Russian state-controlled network RT. Several Russian government agencies and media outlets were also listed.

The Ukrainian nationals targeted by the SBU’s suppression request include Anatoly Shariy, a video blogger and politician who fled Ukraine in 2012 and subsequently received European Union asylum; and Andriy Portnov, a Ukrainian lawyer and politician who served as a senior official under Ukrainian President Viktor Yanukovych until the latter’s ouster in the February 2014 Maidan coup. (Both Shariy and Portnov’s Twitter accounts remain active).

The disclosure of a collaboration on censorship between the FBI and SBU is the latest documented instance of Ukrainian state-tied attempts to target foreign voices. A Ukrainian website known as Myrotvorets maintains a list of what it calls “enemies of Ukraine.” I was recently added to that list along with The Grayzone’s Anya Parampil, as well as the comedian and YouTube host Jimmy Dore. The Myrotvorets database was co-founded by Anton Gerashchenko, former deputy minister at the Ukraine’s Ministry of Internal Affairs, where he now serves as an advisor.

Last year, the global tech/media conference Web Summit withdrew a speaking invitation to The Grayzone’s Max Blumenthal and I after Olena Zelenska, the wife of Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky, demanded our cancellation. (Another Grayzone colleague, Kit Klarenberg, was recently detained and interrogated about his journalism by British authorities).

News of the FBI’s work with Ukrainian intelligence to censor Twitter users also follows reporting from journalist Lee Fang that the FBI has pressured Facebook to remove accounts and posts deemed by the SBU to be Russian “disinformation.” According to Fang, a senior Ukrainian official in regular contact with the FBI defined “disinformation” in such broad terms that it could mean viewpoints that “simply contradict the Ukrainian government’s narrative.”

[spookyagentfmulder]

NAME: Fox William Mulder DATE OF BIRTH: October 13th, 1961 PLACE OF BIRTH: Martha’s Vineyard, Massachusetts GENDER: Cisgender nonconforming Male SEXUALITY: Autochorissexual Polyamourous HEIGHT: 6'0" (182 cm) WEIGHT: 200 lbs AGE: 36 EYE COLOR: Hazel. HAIR COLOR: Auburn.

OCCUPATION: Special Agent with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Assigned to the X-Files division. CURRENT STATUS: Alive. CURRENT LOCATION: Washington, D.C., United States

BACKGROUND:

Agent Fox W. Mulder was born on October 13, 1961, on the island of Martha’s Vineyard, Massachusetts to Bill and Teena Mulder. The mysterious disappearance of Mulder’s sister (SAMANTHA MULDER) and his ensuing search for her became the consuming drive of his life. In 1983, Mulder graduated with first-class honors from the University of Oxford with a Bachelor of Arts degree in psychology. He then graduated with honors from the Quantico FBI Training Academy in 1986. Mulder joined the FBI on October 24, 1984. On graduating from the Academy, Mulder began his work in the Behavioral Science Unit (psychological profiling) under Special Agent Bill Patterson, with whom he had a testy relationship.

In 1988, the FBI assigned Mulder to the Violent Crimes Unit. Around this time, Mulder first came across the X-Files, an obscure FBI section dealing with cases relating to the paranormal; he pored over these cases in his spare time, becoming obsessed with them. In 1991, Mulder re-opened the X-Files with Special Agent █████  █████, but  █████ left shortly thereafter. Mulder investigated the X-Files by himself until March 1992, when Special Agent Dana Scully, an instructor at the FBI Academy’s Forensic Science Research and Training Center, was partnered with him for the purpose of applying scientific reasoning to Mulder’s work and theories.

MUSE SPECIFIC INFORMATION

MAINS:  Special Agent Dana Scully - beyondthescully John Constantine - talentforlying William Graham - shilohgreen Emmanuel - handgiven Dr. Hannibal Lecter - consumare Agent Clarice Starling - cstarling

VERSES MAIN/MODERN: For all of Mulder’s interaction this will be the primary verse he will be interacting from. Timelines are sort of blurred here, but for the most part he is situated between seasons 3-4 of the show. This is mostly characterization based, and the events of said seasons are played sort of fast and loose.

THE MAGNUS ARCHIVES: #;pick up the receiver i’ll make you a believer -TMA!AU Agent Fox Mulder is an avatar of The Eye and works with the X-Files division in order to consume information. He has a Supernatural/Paranormal Hotline set up for people to call and supply him with fresh cases.

WITH A GRAIN OF SAND: Emmanuel and Mulder have formed a close relationship, so close that they are now literally a part of each other. You've heard of soulmates, well you ain't seen nothin' yet. Mulder now has a piece of the divine within his soul, and in exchange a part of him resides in his guardian angel.

[dgct2]

Season 3 Kristin Gaines

I started this project as a celebration of Alexa's birthday which is May 28th. This set features the 16 episodes before Dylan McDermott joins the show as Remy Scott.

As always click on the link to go to my gif-set. Please like or reblog if you want to keep them. Do not use the gifs for anything else. It took me a long time to make them.

COMPLETED: May 28th, 2023

Other Kristin Threads

Season 3 Remy & Kristin - 3x17 to 3x22.

Season 4 Remy & Kristin - 4x01 to 4x22.

3x01 Exposed

A local FBI case involving two murdered women and a sea of powerful men turns into a manhunt for the dangerous leader of a far-reaching criminal enterprise.

This is Part 3 of the 1st FBI Crossover. Alexa Davalos joins the show as Kristin Gaines. This crossover would also be the introduction of Luke Kleintank as Scott Forrester on FBI International. Alexa and Luke starred opposite each other in Prime Video's alt history thriller The Man In The Castle. That is my next set of gif sets that I will be working on.

3x02 Patriots

New Fugitive Task Force member Kristin Gaines joins Jess and the team as they head to DC to find a dangerous fugitive from the January 6 Capitol riot.

3x03 Tough Love

When a judge known for serving harsh sentences to juveniles is murdered, the team looks into his lengthy list of cases in the hunt for his killer; Kristin faces family hurdles while resettling with her teenage daughter in New York City.

3x04 Inherited

The team must determine if the kidnapping of a young Chinese-American woman is a random hate crime or if she was specifically targeted; Jess and Sarah struggle with Tali's continued rebellious streak.

Trivia: We meet CIA Agent Kevin Miller in this episode. Kristin asks him about the interest the Chinese have in CRISPR tech. Kevin will show up later in 3x22 A Man Without A Country.

3x05 Unhinged

After a deadly fire at an arcade, the team discovers the blaze was just the first step in an intricate plan to exact revenge on one of the victims; Hana rejoins the team, finding new adjustments in all aspects of her life.

Trivia: There is a blooper in this episode. When Hana and Kristin are talking to the loan shark you can see a wedding ring on Kristin's hand. Later when Kristin talks to Hana and Sheryll she tells that she's divorced from Nick.

3x06 Lovesick

The team attempts to hunt down a family annihilator before he continues his murder spree; Barnes' intrusive mother puts pressure on her marriage.

3x07 Gladiator

The team investigates the murder of a professional basketball player's wife, who was a famous lifestyle guru; Kristin and her ex-husband grow closer; special agent Isobel Castille checks in with the team on the high-profile case.

3x08 Sport Of Kings

After a prized Kentucky racehorse is stolen and its groomer is taken hostage, the team quickly learns they may be the only ones who consider the young woman's safety a priority over the horse's; Byron returns to celebrate the holidays with Jess.

3x09 Run Hide Fight

While holiday shopping, Barnes and Jess are caught in the middle of a mall shooting; Gaines, Hana and Ortiz try to help from the outside, knowing their team's family members are inside and at risk.

Trivia: This episode marks the introduction of David Hudgins as the new showrunner for FBI Most Wanted. It is also the first episode that follows a new format of jumping right into the action.

3x10 Incendiary

The team hunts for a young man who is using napalm-style bombs to attack his targets; with Tali away, Jess and Sarah begin to adjust to their empty nest.

3x11 Hunter

The task force chases a killer who plays a twisted game of cat and mouse with his victims; Hana shares something personal about herself with her new roommate, Ortiz.

3x12 El Pincho ( 7 Parts )

The team searches for a notorious Colombian drug lord after he escapes from a U.S. prison; Kristin begins to open up to her ex-husband about her past.

Trivia: This is the episode that delves into Kristin's past in Miami. We'll learn more in 4x03 Succession.

3x13 Overlooked

The team searches for a businessman wanted for murder and an embezzlement scheme; Jess takes advantage of his empty nest to properly court Sarah.

3x14 Shattered

The team pursues an abusive man who is on the hunt for an ex-girlfriend trying to escape him; Jess and Sarah make plans to take their dream vacation together.

Trivia: This is the final episode with Julian McMahon as SSA Jess LaCroix.

3x15 Incel

The team must track down a murderous member of the incel community targeting those he believes never give him a chance; Barnes, Hana, Ortiz and Kristin deal with their grief in the wake of Jess' death.

Alexa Davalos is marked as the lead actor for this episode. This is the first time in the FBI verse. She was the lead actor on The Man In The High Castle.

3x16 Decriminalized

The team gets called to Vermont after a married couple who grow illegal marijuana massacres their employees; Barnes begins to regret not taking any time off to bond with her new baby.

[redrumedition]

⋅˚₊‧ kprofiles #001: ted kaczynski 💣 ‧₊˚ ⋅

Photo. Kaczynski's 1996 mugshot.

Headnote: There may be errors in the profile. This post has no intention of glorifying the people being mentioned and their actions.

Theodore "Ted" Kaczynski, was an American mathematician and serial bomber. He was known as the Unabomber due to his activity of sending handmade bombs to universities and airlines while living a primitive lifestyle in his cabin in the woods, away from civilisation. His bombings caused 3 deaths and 23 people injured, which happened from 1978 to 1995. He passed away on June 10th, 2023 in North Carolina when he was 81 years old by taking his own life with a shoelace in his prison cell. About a month before his suspected suicide, he was noted by the prison oncologist to be "depressed" and he was referred to a psychiatrist.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ biography ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

Full name: Theodore John Kaczynski

Also known as: the Unabomber, Teddy John (by his family)

Nationality: American 🇺🇸

Birthday: May 22nd, 1942 (Chicago, Illinois)

Death date: June 10th, 2023 (Durham, North Carolina)

Zodiac: Gemini ♊

Chinese zodiac: Horse 🐎

Height: 175 cm (5'9")

MBTI (estimate): INTJ

IQ: 167

Occupation: Mathematics professor (formerly)

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ crime details ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

K-type: Serial bomber, domestic terrorist

Victim(s) count: 26 total

Deaths caused: 3

Injuries caused: 23

Motif: Eco-terrorism; anti-modernisation ideologies

Date arrested: April 3rd, 1996

Convictions: 13 counts of transporting explosive devices with the intent to kill or maim (pleaded guilty)

Penalty: 8 consecutive life sentences without parole

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ted kaczynski facts ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

his parents were both of Polish descent, his father was a sausage maker and his mother was a housewife. He has a younger brother, David.

he had an allergic rash caused by medications when he was 9 months old, which caused him to be hospitalised and isolated.

he was a well-rounded student by playing the trombone in the school's marching band and participating in his school's maths, biology, coin-collecting, and German clubs.

due to his extraordinary intelligence, Kaczynski skipped Grades 6 and 11 in his early years, graduating at only 15 years old as he attended summer school.

he was a bright student and a mathematics prodigy, which landed him a chance to study at the prestigious Harvard University at only 16 years old with a scholarship and graduated with a Bachelor of Arts degree in Mathematics at 19/20 years old (1962).

he earned both a Master's degree and a PhD in Mathematics at the University of Michigan (1967) where he wrote his doctoral thesis, "Boundary Functions". Kaczynski's thesis would later be awarded a Summer B. Myers prize for the state's best math dissertation of the year, where his doctoral advisor would call his work "the best" he's ever directed.

his collegemates at Harvard described him as a "lonely boy with poor personal hygiene" and he always smelt like "rotting food, spoiled milk, and foot powder".

his high school classmates remarked that Kaczynski once showed a schoolmate a mini-bomb he made in Chemistry class that was detonated during class.

Kaczynski was offered a job to teach as an assistant professor at the University of California, Berkeley (1969) but eventually stopped due to his inner struggles in delivering lectures and communicating with his students.

he worked at a foam rubber products factory with his father and brother in the 1970s.

his moniker came from the special task force name "UNABOM", which was coined by the FBI during the years to track him and it is short for "University and Airline Bombing", which reflects on his bombing targets. The media later referred to him as the "Unabomber".

out of all of his 16 bombing plans, two of the bombings (University of Utah, 1981 and The Boeing Company, WA, 1985) failed as they were defused successfully.

the task force reportedly had spent over US$50 million during the UNABOM investigation, which was regarded as one of the most expensive cases ever. US$1 million was a reward to anyone who could lead to the Unabomber's arrest, which was eventually made by his brother, David.

David brought the letters and other documents his older brother had written to the FBI after his wife had noted his familiarity with the writing ideas. FBI compared Ted's handwritten documents with the handwriting on the manifesto he'd written, which spotted similarities, and led the investigators to track Ted down and eventually capture him in his forest cabin which he and his brother built. In the cabin, authorities spotted journals, a coded diary, some explosives, and two completed bombs which were ready to be delivered.

David used US$680,000 out of the US$1 million reward money to create a fund dedicated to the surviving victims of the Unabomber serial bombings, meanwhile, the remainder of the money was funded for taxes and legal fees for the victims.

he made his DIY bombs using everyday items such as metal pipes, batteries, and some untraceable scrap materials. In his handmade bombs, he inscribed the initials FC which to him, stands for "Freedom Club".

Kaczynski was known to live a primitive, technology-free life as he relocated to a 3m x 4m (10' x 14') cabin in a forest in Montana without proper heating, electricity and water.

He was also known to have opposed modernisation, proven in his manifesto entitled "Industrial Society and Its Future". His manifesto is mainly about how the Industrial Revolution started a process that destroyed nature through the development of technology and how human freedom was suppressed due to technological advancements. This manifesto was the driving force behind his serial bombings which were "designed to protect wilderness by hastening the collapse of industrial society".

he was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia.

it was reported that in the bio for his Harvard class' 50th year reunion magazine, he stated that his occupation was "prisoner" and in the awards section, he stated it as "eight life sentences, issued by the United States District Court for the Eastern District of California, 1998".

he also wrote a 2010 publication "Technological Slavery", where it received positive reviews (4.7 stars) on Amazon.

during his final few years in prison, in March 2021, he was diagnosed with late-stage rectal cancer and received his chemotherapy treatment until he declined the treatment in March 2023.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ remembering the victims ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ 🕯️

Deaths

Hugh Scrutton (d. 11 December 1985, Sacramento, California)

Thomas J. Mosser (d. 10 December 1994, North Caldwell, New Jersey)

Gilbert Brent Murray (d. 24 April 1995, Sacramento, California)

Survivors

Terry Marker

John Harris

12 passengers on American Airlines Flight 444 (15 November 1979, Chicago to Washington DC)

Percy Wood

Janet Smith

Diogenes Angelakos & John Hauser

James V. McConnell & Nicklaus Suino

Gary Wright

Charles Epstein

David Gerlenter

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ references ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

**all info from this profile are from these websites:

https://www.fbi.gov/history/famous-cases/unabomber

https://www.pbs.org/newshour/nation/ted-kaczynski-known-as-the-unabomber-found-dead-in-federal-prison

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Industrial_Society_and_Its_Future

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ted_Kaczynski

https://www.aetv.com/real-crime/unabomber-now

https://www.archivesfoundation.org/newsletter/the-unabomber/

https://edition.cnn.com/2023/06/10/us/ted-kaczynski-unabomber-dead/index.html

https://www.biography.com/crime/ted-kaczynski

https://www.bbc.com/news/world-us-canada-65867291

https://www.smithsonianmag.com/smithsonian-institution/unabomber-arrested-longest-manhunt-fbi-history-over-180968744/

[wandering-soul-girl]

「 ✦ Criminology: Notable Figures ✦ 」

im a day late so youll be getting two posts today (yay or im sorry ig?) but here is the post i shouldve made yesterday for the masterpost jam!

╰┈➤ The Founders

↪ Cesare Bonesana di Beccaria, Marquis of Gualdrasco and Villareggio - "He is well remembered for his treatise On Crimes and Punishments (1764), which condemned torture and the death penalty, and was a founding work in the field of penology and the classical school of criminology. Beccaria is considered the father of modern criminal law and the father of criminal justice."

↪ Enrico Ferri - "an Italian criminologist, socialist and student of Cesare Lombroso, the founder of the Italian school of criminology. While Lombroso researched the purported physiological factors that motivated criminals, Ferri investigated social and economic aspects."

↪ Laura Jane Addams - "an American settlement activist, reformer, social worker, sociologist, public administrator, philosopher, and author. She was a leader in the history of social work and women's suffrage in the United States... An advocate for world peace, and recognized as the founder of the social work profession in the United States, in 1931 Addams became the first American woman to be awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. She was a radical pragmatist and arguably the first woman public philosopher in the United States. In the Progressive Era, when presidents such as Theodore Roosevelt and Woodrow Wilson identified themselves as reformers and social activists, Addams was one of the most prominent reformers."

↪ Edwin Hardin Sutherland - "an American sociologist. He is considered one of the most influential criminologists of the 20th century. He was a sociologist of the symbolic interactionist school of thought and is best known for defining white-collar crime and differential association, a general theory of crime and delinquency. Sutherland earned his Ph.D. in sociology from the University of Chicago in 1913."

╰┈➤ The Modern Day

↪ Lawrence W. Sherman - Areas of Specialization: Experimental Criminology, Defiance Theory, Evidence-Based Policy

↪ David Weisburd - Areas of Specialization: Police Innovation, Geography of Crime, Experimental Criminology, White Collar Crime

↪ Christopher Uggen -Areas of Specialization: Crime, Law and Justice, Life Course, Inequality, Methods, Policy

↪ Lorraine Mazerolle - Areas of Specialization: Problem-Oriented Policing, Civil Remedies, Third-Party Policing

↪ Nicole Westmarland - Areas of Specialization: Male Violence Against Women, Sexual Violence

↪ Henry Lee - Areas of Specialization: Forensic Science

╰┈➤ My Personal Favorites

↪ Robert Kenneth Ressler - Author of one of my favorite True Crime novels, I Have Lived In The Monster and American FBI Agent. "He played a significant role in the psychological profiling of violent offenders in the 1970s and is often credited with coining the term "serial killer", though the term is a direct translation of the German term Serienmörder coined in 1930 by Berlin investigator Ernst Gennat. After retiring from the FBI, he authored a number of books on serial murders, and often gave lectures on criminology."

↪ Dr. Wilczack - I am only entering my second year of college, but I can already tell you this man is my favorite professor. I can also tell you he is not only knowledgeable but passionate about what he does. He teaches many classes and advises many students in the world of criminology and it's subtopics. Its beautiful to see someone with such passion for their craft and their students.