(A/N: Time for yet another series! This time, we’re indulging in my ultimate fave, Bodhi Rook. This is the complete opposite of my Mobster! Cassian AU, so I hope you all enjoy reading!)
Detective! Bodhi x Reader
Plot Summary: John MacArthur was found dead in his home on March 3rd, 2017. His family, especially his wife and sister in law, are emotionally distressed. His neighbor is strangely nonchalant, a former prostitute has been demanding child support, and the weapon is nowhere to be found. New LAPD detective Bodhi Rook has been assigned to this murder, and has been paired up with you, one of the division’s finest. Try not to let your emotions hinder the case, detective.
You got out of your car, jogging past the sirens and showing off your badge to the officers guarding the house. You ducked under the police tape and into the house, spotting Jyn taking pictures of the crime for the forensics department.
You sighed when you looked at the text from Cassian earlier. A new case.
The night of August 7, 1984, someone broke into the home where Margaret Tapp (35) lived with her two kids, Justin (14) and Seana (9). Margaret and Seana were strangled and left dead on their beds, and the little girl was also sexually assaulted. Justin wasn’t home that night, but the tragedy would eventually take a toll on him as well.
The bodies of the two Tapp women were found the next day by a man who had a date with Margaret. He was investigated as a suspect, and eventually cleared. The investigation turned up several clues. A witness stated that they’d heard a muffled scream around 11 pm, something that stood out in the quiet Ferntree Gully, Victoria, neighborhood. There was a pizza still in the oven and Dunlop Volley shoeprints left in Margaret’s bedroom and bathroom that police decided belong to the killer. Semen stains were also found in Seana’s nightgown, along with unknown hairs.
The list of suspects was incredibly long, and most of them were connected to Margaret, who was a lively, social nurse who dated freely. According to her friends, she’d had several affairs with doctors she worked with. One of them in particular was a married doctor who owned the house Margaret lived in and had died before Margaret’s murder. The doctor’s widow was considered a suspect after accusing that Margaret had harassed them several times. There was also her ex husband, Don Tapp, who was cleared after proving his alibi; a retired policeman and friend of the family who had made advances on Margaret but was rejected; a teenager who cut her lawn regularly and even the boyfriend of Margaret’s sister, who’d gone by her house on the day after the murders but left when no one answered the door.
Most of this people were cleared by DNA testing. Then, in 2008, police announced that they’d found a match and charged a man called Russell John Gesah, who was already in prison. But two weeks later, authorities admitted they’d made a mistake: the sample had been contaminated and the charges were dropped.
In June 2014, as the 30th anniversary of the crime approached, Justin Tapp was found dead in his England home, of an apparent overdose of alcohol and drugs. The murder of his mother and sister remains unsolved.
(A/N: Part two is here! I’m so excited to be writing for Bodhi, he is my all time favorite~!)
Detective! Bodhi x Reader
Plot Summary: John MacArthur was found dead in his home on March 3rd, 2017. His family, especially his wife and sister in law, are emotionally distressed. His neighbor is strangely nonchalant, a former prostitute has been demanding child support, and the weapon is nowhere to be found. New LAPD detective Bodhi Rook has been assigned to this murder, and has been paired up with you, one of the precinct’s finest. Try not to let your emotions hinder the case, detective.
You and Bodhi had sat in the conference, reviewing your case assignment for about five days, but the case board only showing clues, and no solid leads.
“Nothing? Not even foreign fingerprints?” Bodhi asked, as you shook your head.
“Forensics team didn’t find anything from the outside other than shoeprints. And those were a men’s size 8.” You sighed, rubbing your temple. “Paper says MacArthur was a size 11.”
“So the killer is a man?”
You shook your head, picking slightly at the staple in your papers. “Can’t say for sure. Anybody could have been wearing those shoes.”
During the past months I did a lot of research regarding Richard. The things I found I saved in a kind of “working timeline” , that I want to share with you today. It is far from being complete and it contains also events regarding other people in Richards life and details which maybe are not very relevant, but I saved them anyway, bc. they helped me to structure my research. This timeline contains also crimes, Richard was suspected to have committed them, but was never charged of them, or charges were dropped bc. of lack of evidence. These crimes are written in cursive. The sources for this timeline are mostly old newspaper-articles. I tried to avoid the known documentaries and Philip Carlos book.
02/29/1960 Richard was born
in El Paso TX
by a dresser, forehead laceration, 30 stiches, scar still visible
by a swing, unconscious for hours
brothers were molested by a teacher, who also came to their house,
where he probably also had contact with Richard
18 (?) and Julian (19) arrested, „auto burglary“
(20) arrested, auto theft (out on bond on three similar charges)
seizures at school,
explosion / Miguel Valles, 23, Josefina Valles, 22 critical condition, Miguel
Valles jr., 5, dead (born Sept. 21, 1967), Jose (?Pablo?) Valles, 2, injured
Highschool, El Paso
Miguel Ramirez Valles (25) shot his wife Josefina in front of Richard and the two children of Miguel (Pablo, 6, and Oswaldo, 3)
Valles died at Thomason General Hospital
out of school (early 1977)
sent to half-way house for delinquent youths
on suspicion of marijuana possession (first entry in El Paso police records)
intervention programm (marijuana possession)
of marijuana possession dismissed (insuff. Evidence)
went to LA and lived there with his brother Julian Jr during the
first year. After a fight over who should pay for a car repair Richard moved out.
Donna Myers when
she went down to El Paso with Armando Rodriguez and Tony Reys,
two friends from the San Francisco area. Richard was a friend of
Armando’s in El Paso
summer in SF, lived in Richmond with Earl Gregg for 4 months (May
to October) and
later in other parts of the Bay Area (until 1983)
of his best friend, Nicholas Nevarez, in a gruesome traffic accident. Richard was in the back seat when a van, driven by another friend, crashed into a fence. His friend got impaled, the pole went right through him. Richard saw the whole thing.
petty theft charge, first arrest in California
guilty of marijuana possession, 50 days suspended sentence and
to LA (in late 1983 acc. to Earl Gregg), in LA started injecting
in LA for nearly five months on an auto theft conviction
1984 acc. to Earl Gregg his last meeting with Richard, who told
him that he had broken off a needle in his arm while trying to
record on which Richard listed his address as Coronado Hotel,
373 Ellis Street, SF
„Linda“ Leung murdered / 765 O'Farrell Street, SF (TL Hotel)
1984 in early May Richard was back in LA and stayed until August
Vincow, murdered in Glassel Park (stabbed repeatly,
Kobayashi is found dead in his Nob Hill apartment at 1111 Pine
St. (SF) later
(first in 1987, again in 2016, SFPD said that they suspect another man, who molested a relative of Kobayashi, but they have not enough evidence to charge him)
met Felipe Solano at the bus depot, where Solano was waiting to
take a trip to tijuana and started to sell him stolen goods (until August 1985)
(mugshot) car theft, 36 days in LA County Jail (75 days ?) (used
alias Richard Munoz Moreno) Richard had apparently lived several
days in the stolen car.
from LA County Jail (?? +/-)
1985 acc. to Sandra Hotchkiss about 25 nonviolent daytime
burglaries in Atwater, Los Feliz, Pasadena, Silverlake, Glendale,
West LA, Montrose and Santa Monica
and Christina Caldwell, ages 70 and 58, respectively, are stabbed
dozens of times in their Telegraph Hill (SF) apartment.
6-year-old girl was abducted from Wilcox Elementary School in Montebello
9-year-old boy was abducted from his home in Monterey Park between 9 and 10 p.m.
Hernandez, Dayle Okazaki, Rosemead / Tia-Lian Yu, Monterey Park
8-year-old girl was abducted from her home in Glassel Park
and Maxine Zazzara, Whittier (shot, .22, Maxine Z.: eyes gouged
1985 shortly after Easter (April 7th), Richard tried to
sell a .25 (?) automatic to Earl Gregg and showed him also a black
small-caliber revolver. He had also a couple of rifles for sale
(acc. to Gregg, source Carlo – source says too, that Halpin
during the trial showed Gregg the pistol recovered in Tijuana. And
Gregg said that it looked similar . The gun was missing when the
jury began deliberations.) However, Richard apparently was in SF
in April 1985.
Clara Hadsall, Monrovia (not charged bc. Victim died before trial began,
but fingerprints and Avia-footprints found in her house, were used
and Lilian Doy, Monterey Park, 1586 Trumbower Avenue (shot .22),
Lilian Doy survived
records, Dr. Peter Leung, LA (using alias Richard Mena)
records, Dr. Peter Leung, LA (using alias Richard Mena)
records, Dr. Peter Leung, LA (using alias Richard Mena)
Bell and Florence Lang, Monrovia (bludgeoned with a Hammer)
records, Dr. Peter Leung, LA (using alias Richard Mena)
Kyle, Burbank (raped,threatened with gun)
Wildgans, 29, is shot through the right temple by a late-night
intruder. His girlfriend fights off the attacker.
8-year old girl was abducted at 7 a.m. from Ralph Waldo Emerson
Elementary School in Rosemead
by police in Northeast division, suspicion of driving a stolen
car, fled on food (business
of dentist Dr. Leung was found in the car)
6-year-old girl was abducted in the early morning from her home in
Arcadia (between 1:30 and 3:00 a.m.)
06/27/1985 25 Patty
Elaine Higgins, Arcadia, West Naomi Street (throat cut)
Louise Cannon, Arcadia, East
(stabbed with 10- inch-kitchen-knife, which he found there)
records, Dr. Peter Leung, LA (using alias Richard Mena)
Bennet, Sierra Madre (bludgeoned with tire iron, strangled with
Lucille Nelson, Monterey Park, 340
E. Arlight (beaten to death, fists, kicks)
Dickman, Monterey Park (raped, threatened with gun, silver pistol)
and Leila Kneiding, Glendale, 1431 Stanley Ave (shot, .22, machete)
Khovananth (shot, .22), Somkid Khovananth (raped) , Sun
and Virginia Petersen in Northridge, shot in temple/face, both
survived (released from hospital after 31 hours) (.25)
and Sakina Abowath in Diamond Bar, (.25) (stadia shoeprint found)
stayed at Bristol Hotel, 56 Mason Street, SF
at 3637 Baker Street, SF (
Jack Saroyan), ring and bracelet were given to Deleen Gregg, who
went to the police with them (29.08.)
visitied Donna Myers and gave her an octagonal jewelry box to hold
stayed briefly with Armando Rodriguez in El Sobrante
and Barbara Pan, Lake Merced, SF (shot, .25)
Gregg and his wife bought a ring and a bracelet from Richard
came to Donna Myers (with Armando Rodriguez) to retrieve the
Toyota (license plate 482 RTS) stolen
Carns, Inez Erickson, Mission Viejo (call 911 at 2:40 a.m., shot,
. 25) – at about 1:30 a.m. he was seen at the house of James
by police in Central Division on a motorcycle for a minor
violation (driving without license), they cited him and let him
Myers called the police, saying that Earl and Deleen Gregg 5 days
before had bought a ring and a bracelet from an old
aquainstance, whom they knew only as Rick
stolen orange Toyota (license plate 482 RTS) was found in
Wilshire (parking lot near Alexandria Ave/6th
Str.) at 7 a.m. / Detectives
watched the car from hidden positions until after dawn Wednesday
was taken to Orange County early in the morning and searched with
laser/superglue etc., a fingerprint was found on the rear view
mirror, it was fed to database and produced about 100 fingerprint
sets bearing similarities, which had to be looked at by hand, they
also got hints from persons who knew Richard (Donna Myers,
Gregg went to the police with a gold bracelet (engraved with a CA
driver licence number) and a pearl ring, saying that she got them
from a certain Rick, who sometimes stayed with her mother
staked out the houses of Donna Myers and Armando Rodriguez
AZ, Richard visited his brother Robert (by Greyhound bus)
match found / mugshot released
published in newspapers / capture, Hubbard Street, LA
Saturday afternoon, four officers arrived at the bus depot and
confiscated a large brown tote bag, that Richard had left there
was arraigned on a single murder count (William Doi) and seven
robbery, rape, sodomy and forced oral copulation; Clara Hadsall:
and presentation of about 2000 items, recovered from Felipe
Solano, Donny Myers and from the house of Richards sister (about
300 pieces of jewelry)
is searching (again) the house of Richards sister for Maxine
Zazzara eyes, they are also looking for clothing that may have
been splattered with blood anf for weapons like handguns, knives,
double- edged daggers, carpet knives, also for handcuffs,
binoculars and ammunition that might have been used in the
killings and assaults
fired Adashek and engaged Joseph Gallegos as his attorney
pleaded „not guilty“, also the day he showed his hand with the
pentagram and shouted „Hail Satan!“ Richard also switched his
attorneys again. Gallegos was fired and Arturo and Daniel
Hernandez were engaged
was arraigned on eight charges in Orange county (one count of
attempted murder, two counts of rape, two counts of forced oral
copulation, two counts of robbery in a dwelling, one count of
former attorney Joseph Gallegos died of a heart attack at age 56
of the preliminary hearing in LA
trial in LA starts
of all charges: 13
counts of murder, 5 attempted murders, 11
sexual assaults, 14 burglaries
death-sentences (gas chamber)
is taken to SF’s Hall of Justice
day of SF-pre-trial
9 1991 was set as date for the trial of the Peter Pan case in SF,
Richard pleaded innocent to the 6 counts connected with this case
father, Julian Tapia Ramirez died of bone cancer (64)
was returned to San Quentin after a court ordered him out of SF
County Jail, where he still was awaiting his trial in the Peter
Pan- case. When he came back to San Quentin, the metal detector
went off and they found a metal canister in his rectum, containing
of a handcuff key, a ball point pen, a hypodermic needle and a
sticker, saying ‘I love chocolate’.
of Miguel Angel Valles (heart attack)
Phil Halpin died on his 65th birthday from cancer
was linked by DNA to the 1984 killing of Mei Leung in SF
was taken to the Marin General Hospital
was released from hospital and brought back to San Quentin
was taken again to the Marin General Hospital
of complications secondary to B-Cell-Lymphoma, Marin General
Hospital, Greenbrae CA
released information, that a second suspect was linked to the
murder of Mei Leung (10.04.1984 in SF Tenderloin)
‘’I love to kill people. I love to watch them die. I would shoot them in the head and they would wiggle and squirm all over the place, and then just stop. Or cut them with a knife and watch their faces turn real white.’’
The Night Stalker
Richard Ramirez entered the world on February 28, 1960, in El Paso, Texas. He was the youngest of five children in a Mexican American family that had immigrated to the United States. His father, Julian Ramirez, was frequently away from home as he was a laborer on the Santa Fe Railroad. Richard was raised a devout Christian and his family often attended church.
During his childhood, Richard sustained two major head injuries: One from a dresser falling on top of him, and the second time being when he was knocked unconscious by a swing, after which he experienced frequent epileptic seizures that persisted into his teen years.
A look at his background indicates that Richard certainly had the right childhood environment to produce a killer. At a young age, he would soon become victim to his father’s unexpected bursts of anger. Much like his older siblings, Richard received severe beatings as punishment that left him battered and bruised. He often slept in the nearby cemetery so as to escape his father’s terrible temper. When Richard was 12-years-old, much of his time was spent with his older cousin Miguel “Mike” Ramirez who was a Vietnam vet and member of the Special Forces. Oftentimes they would drive around the city smoking marijuana as Mike boasted about his gruesome exploits during the war, and shared with him graphic Polaroid photos of Vietnamese women he had raped and killed to prove it. Some of the photos displayed women on their knees being forced to perform fellatio on Mike as he held a cocked .45 to their heads. At the age of 13, Richard was present when Mike shot and killed his wife. This experience was the final ingredient needed to complete the recipe of becoming a future serial killer and rapist.
Shortly after dropping out of high school, Richard took up a job at the Holiday Inn. One night, using the hotel’s pass key, he sneaked into a woman’s hotel room and attempted to rape her. Her husband walked in on the scene and beat Richard senseless. All criminal charges were dropped as the couple lived out of state and refused to testify in court.
Richard’s mother kicked him out of the house at age 17, leaving him to fend for himself by selling drugs, stealing cars, and pickpocketing. He left El Paso for good at age 18, taking a Greyhound Bus to Los Angeles where he frequently stayed in hotels, burglarizing homes and selling the stolen items to get him by. Much of his money was spent on drugs, specifically cocaine. In 1981, Richard was arrested on drug charges and it was in jail where he was introduced to Satanism. In 1984 he was arrested yet again for car theft.
Richard’s first known murder occurred on April 10, 1984, when his 9-year-old victim was raped, beaten, stabbed, and found hanging from a hotel basement pipe. This killing, however, hadn’t been linked to him until 2009 when his DNA matched to DNA obtained at the crime scene.
His second killing happened just two months after the first one. High off cocaine, he sneaked into the apartment room of 79-year-old Jennie Vincow and stabbed her repeatedly while she lay asleep in bed. He then slashed her throat so deeply that she was nearly decapitated.
It wasn’t until almost a year later that Richard would begin a horrifying murder spree that shook the Los Angeles city to its core. On March 17, 1985, Richard entered the condo of 34-year-old Dayle Okazaki and Maria Hernandez, shooting Dayle to death and wounding her roommate Maria. Within an hour of the killing, he entered the car of 30-year-old Veronica Yu against her will, shot her twice with a .22 caliber handgun, and fled the scene. The two murders (and third attempt) in a single day attracted extensive coverage from news media who speculated that the murders were connected.
Ten days later, Richard invaded the Zazzara residence and shot a sleeping Vincent Zazzara in the head with a .22 revolver. Shocked and bleeding, Vincent tried to stand up and grab Richard, but the small-caliber bullet zigzagged through his brain, cutting the carotid artery, and he lost motor movement. His wife Maxine Zazzara awoke at the sound of the gunshot. Richard rushed to her room and quickly bound and gagged her. As he ransacked the bedroom for valuables, Maxine managed to escape her bonds and retrieved a shotgun from under the bed, which was not loaded. An infuriated Richard shot her three times with the same gun that claimed the life of her husband and fetched a large carving knife from the kitchen. His attempt to cut her heart out miscarried, so he instead gouged out her eyes and placed them in a jewelry box. He proceeded to stab her multiple times in the stomach, throat, and pubic area. After releasing his rage, Richard took off with the valuables he had gathered from the house and the eyes as a token.
Most serial killers generally have a ‘’cooling’’ period between each murder. That made Richard Ramirez different from the ordinary serial killer. With each kill, Richard craved the sexual pleasure and thrill he obtained from the very act of claiming another’s life, and soon became addicted to it, sometimes killing again days within his last kill. Richard’s mode of operation was to invade homes in the middle of the night, disable their phones and ransack the place, and leave dead bodies and blood all over as he left the site. This earned the curly-headed attacker the nickname ‘’The Night Stalker’’. Oftentimes, Richard left behind clues for police, such as Avia shoeprints and Satanic symbols he’d drawn on the walls and bodies of his victims.
Richard had spared the lives of many of his female victims. Routinely, he would neutralize the threat—the man—and sexually assault the wife. If the females complied to his demands and directed him to all the valuables in the house without any hassle, Richard allowed them to live after making them ‘’swear on Satan’’ that that was all the valuables they own. The victims who defied him would come to meet a more tragic fate.
On August 30, 1985, Richard took a bus to Arizona to visit one of his brothers, but failed to meet him and ended up returning to Los Angeles the next morning to find that his name and 1984 mugshot photo were plastered on the front page of every newspaper. Citizens immediately recognized him so he promptly fled, sprinting through alleyways and hopping over fences as police sirens blared and helicopter blades whirred. He attempted to steal three cars during his runaway but was driven off. Richard was chased through a neighborhood by a group of bystanders, one of whom struck him over the head with a metal bar during the pursuit. Richard was eventually subdued by the people until police arrived and took him into custody.
While in the car, Richard admitted to being the Night Stalker, expressed his disbelief that the people had caught him before the authority could, and implored the officers to kill him.
‘’Why don’t you just shoot me? I deserve to die. Now they’re going to send me to the electric chair,’’ Richard reportedly said.
Richard’s trial, which started on July 22, 1988, took a full year. During this time, Richard gained a tremendous amount of female attention, his dangerous Latin looks and defiance appealing to many but particularly catching the eye of Doreen Lioy, a magazine editor whom Richard later married while on death row. When presented with images of his mutilated victims, Richard would often laugh. Sometimes he would have an occasional outburst in court or flash Satanic symbols inscribed on his hand which would quickly make headlines.
On September 30, 1989, Richard was found guilty of 13 murders and thirty assorted felonies. On November 7, 1989, he was sentenced to death. Richard didn’t care. As he was escorted from court, he told the press, ‘’Big Deal! Death always went with the territory. I’ll see you in Disneyland.’’
Richard Ramirez died on June 7, 2013, due to B-cell lymphoma at Marin General Hospital in Greenbrae, California. At 53-years-old, Richard had been on death row at San Quentin Prison for more than 23 years waiting to be executed.
“Clean freak” seemed like an unfit descriptor for Sebastian
– somehow too crude – though it would do in a pinch. His proclivities for
cleanliness and organization appeared to border on obsessive-compulsive, the
way he cleaned his kitchen after each meal, sanitizing the countertops and
leaving not a single fork or cup in the sink unwashed. Every other month, he’d
rent one of those carpet cleaning devices and go to town on his office, the
basement, the guest bedroom. Twice a year he hired someone to professionally
clean the large red Oriental rugs he had in the living room and his bedroom,
and once every two weeks he gave the house a once-over himself – washing
windows, scrubbing toilets, sweeping, mopping, dusting, polishing; the whole
Sebastian had started early that day, paying Ciel no mind as
he began working his way through the house from top to bottom. Ciel observed
from the luxurious king-sized bed, rolling over to lie on the still-warm
impression from Sebastian’s body as his boyfriend set to work on the master
bathroom. Every now and again, he would catch a glimpse of Sebastian’s elbow or
his back, the black mop of hair on his head as he strode past the open door
with a gray bucket of cleaning supplies. Ciel drifted in and out of sleep as
Sebastian whittled away the morning in the bathroom. He yawned as he listened
to the sound of the squeaking toilet brush in the porcelain bowl; the hollow
knocking sounds as Sebastian folded his gangly body into the bathtub to scrub
the walls and floor and polish the faucet and knobs; the spritz of a spray bottle
on the glass shower door and the mirror above the sink. The sharp smell of cleaning
solution assaulted his nose when Sebastian upended the remainder of the bottle
onto the floor and began mopping.
Ciel sighed heavily, kicked his legs out, tossed some blankets
around. He gave another loud groan, and eventually succeeded in drawing
Sebastian out of the bathroom and back to bed, though he reeked of sanitizer
“You smell like bleach.”
“I’m sorry. Did I wake you up?” Ciel shook his head no. “Do
you want to help me clean today?” He shook his head again. It was hard enough
to get the kid to rinse his plates before putting them in the dishwasher, so
Sebastian didn’t really expect him to help vacuum or launder the bedsheets. The
man smiled and kissed Ciel on the forehead.
When he went to withdraw, he felt two small hands on his
shoulders, gripping him and not wanting to let go. Sebastian leaned down again
and kissed Ciel on his pouty, waiting lips. Still, the boy did not want to let
“I have to get back to work.”
“No, you don’t,” Ciel groaned. He wrung his hands in Sebastian’s shirt, damp with perspiration and redolent of Windex. “You clean all the time, dude.
Your house looks fine.”
Sebastian thought of the fading gray shoeprints on his
kitchen floor, the smudges of fingerprints on his refrigerator, the splatters
of queso dip in his microwave that Ciel had left behind. He wasn’t complaining, but his work load had increased exponentially since he had started seeing Ciel. He looked down at the
beautiful boy beneath him in his bed, dark hair mussed, eyes still heavy with
sleep, the air in his mouth rank with morning breath.
“You’re right,” he said, and pulled off his sweaty T-shirt
and dropped it to the floor. He slipped beneath the sheets and curled up beside
Ciel, pulling the boy into his chest and wrapping his arms around him. Ciel hid
his pleased grin and squirmed a little in Sebastian’s grasp, wiggling his
bottom against the man’s crotch suggestively. Sebastian sighed and kissed the
top of Ciel’s head. The chores could wait; he had his most important task right
“Killing is killing whether done for duty, profit or fun.”
The Tale of The Nightstalker
Richard Ramirez’s reign of terror lasted from July 1984 to
August 1985 and left 14 people dead.
Ramirez prowled the small towns of Southern California and
San Francisco. He would break into random houses and terrorize the occupants.
If a couple lived there, Ramirez would shoot the man dead first, then beat and
rape the woman. He would demand to know where they kept their valuables. A
Satanist, Ramirez would force her to “swear on Satan” when she said there
were no more valuables for him to take. Sometimes he would let his victims
Ramirez had no preference as far as victim type was
concerned. He preyed on the elderly, women, children and men. He also used
various methods to kill – strangulation, shooting and bludgeoning.
Born in El Paso, Texas on February 29, 1960 to Julian and
Mercedes Ramirez, he was the youngest of five children.
Julian Ramirez was known to have a violent temper and was
abusive. Richard Ramirez suffered two significant head injuries as a child. At
age 2, a dresser fell on top of him and was hit with a swing and knocked
unconscious at age 5. After the last severe injury, Ramirez began to have
epileptic seizures, which lasted until early adolescence.
Ramirez began to fall under the influence of his cousin Miguel
(Mike) Ramirez at age 12.
Mike Ramirez was a decorated Army Green Beret. He shared
gruesome stories of raping and murdering women during his time serving in
Vietnam. Cousin Mike even showed young Richie photos he took of the terrified
women tied to trees as he was about to rape them and of him posing with the severed
head of one of his victims.
In May of 1973, Ramirez witnessed his cousin shoot and kill
his wife, Jesse. After witnessing the murder, Ramirez withdrew from family and
friends. He went to live with his sister Ruth, whose husband Roberto was a
peeping tom. Roberto brought Ramirez on his nighttime excursions to peep at
women. Ramirez also began experimenting with drugs at this time.
Mike Ramirez was committed to a mental institution and was
released in 1977.
Ramirez’s criminal behavior began during adolescence when he
was working at a Holiday Inn. He began burglarizing customers’ rooms. Ramirez
lost his job after he was caught in the act of raping a woman in her room. Her
husband returned to the room just in time and beat Ramirez. The couple refused to press charges
because they lived out of state and didn’t want to return to Texas to testify
Ramirez completed the 9th grade and dropped out
of high school. He moved to California at age 22.
The first murder Ramirez committed wasn’t discovered until
2009 through a DNA match. The victim was 9-year-old Mei Leung who was found
beaten, raped and stabbed to death in a hotel basement on April 10, 1984 in San
Ramirez’s next victim was 79-year-old Jennie Vincow. He
broke into her apartment in Glassell Park. Ramirez stabbed her to death,
slashing her throat and almost decapitating her.
Ramirez attacked three women, killing two of them on March
17, 1985. Ramirez shot 22-year-old Maria Hernandez in the face. She put her
hands up defensively and her keys deflected the bullet, saving her life. Her
roommate, 34-year-old Dale Okazaki, wasn’t as lucky. Ramirez shot her in the
head, killing her. An hour later, he pulled 30-year-old Veronica Hu from her
car and shot her to death.
The three attacks and two murders in one day attracted the
attention of the media. Maria Hernandez was also able to provide a description.
Ramirez returned to a home he robbed one year before on
March 27, 1985. He killed Vincent Zazzara, 64, shooting him in the head as he
slept on the couch. Zazzara’s wife, 44-year-old, Maxine was beaten by Ramirez.
He tied her hands and demanded her to tell him where her valuables were. As
Ramirez ransacked her home, Maxine managed to get out of her bonds and got a
shotgun that was under the bed. When she pulled the trigger, she found it wasn’t
The fact that Maxine Zazzara had threatened Ramirez with a
shotgun enraged him. He shot her to death then decided he wanted part of her.
Ramirez got a butcher knife from the kitchen and mutilated her, cutting out her
eyes and placing them in a jewelry box.
Ramirez left behind a shoe print in a flowerbed, later
identified as a pair of Avia sneakers. The murder of the Zazzaras was linked to
the previous crimes by bullets recovered at the scene.
Ramirez would claim his next victim on May 14, 1985. He beat
Bill Doi, 66, to death. He bound his disabled wife, Lillian, 56, with thumbcuffs. then robbed the Doi’s home and raped her. Lillian Doi survived the attack to provide a description.
His next victims were Mabel “Ma” Bell, 83, and her sister
Florence “Nettie” Lang, 81. Ramirez bludgeoned Lang with a hammer and tied her
up. He did the same to Bell, then shocked her with an electrical cord. He raped
Lang and drew a pentagram with lipstick on her inner thigh and on the bedroom
wall. Bell and Lang were found alive two days later. Bell didn’t survive her
Ramirez broke into the home of Carol Kyle, 42, the day after
his attack on Bell and Lang. He handcuffed Kyle and her 11-year-old son
together, then proceeded to ransack the house.
He then unbound Kyle and demanded she show him where the
valuables were. Ramirez put her son in the closet, then repeatedly sodomized
his mother. He took the child from the closet, then handcuffed him to his
mother again before leaving.
Ramirez’s home invasions would continue, leaving a trail of
rape and murder that would come to an end in August 1985.
Police had ballistic and shoeprint evidence
that matched up with other Night Stalker crime scenes. During a press
conference the Mayor of San Francisco leaked an important piece of evidence –
the Avia shoe print. Investigators found the particular sneaker was rare. It
was a new type of sneaker and only one pair had been delivered to the Los
Angeles area. Of course, detectives knew the perpetrator would hear about it
and get rid of the sneakers.
Ramirez was definitely following the media
coverage of his crimes. On Aug. 24, 1985, he broke into the home of Bill Carns,
30, and his fiancée Inez Erickson, 29. Before Ramirez left, he told Erickson,
“Tell them the Night Stalker was here.”
As he left their home, a neighbor, 13-year-old
James Romero III recognized Ramirez as the “weird looking guy in black” he had
seen earlier that night. Suspicious, he wrote down as much as he could of the
license plate of the stolen orange Toyota Ramirez was driving. When he heard about the attack on the
neighbors, Romero told his parents about Ramirez and had the partial license
plate number. Erickson also provided a vivid description of her attacker to
The abandoned Toyota was found on Aug. 28 and a fingerprint was found on the rearview mirror. The print was traced to Ramirez
because of earlier arrests for traffic and drug violations. Investigators
released a mug shot of Ramirez from a previous arrest for car theft in December
Ramirez wasn’t aware that his face was now known to the public. He had been in
Arizona visiting his brother. When he returned to Los Angeles and stopped at a
convenience store. Ramirez noticed his face staring back at him from a news
rack after he overheard an elderly woman call him “El Matador” (the killer). Residents
began to recognize him. He ran from the store and tried to carjack a woman. He
was chased away by witnesses who ran after him. An angry mob who recognized him
from the papers formed and chased Ramirez. He was hit in the head with a metal
bar. The group held Ramirez until police arrived.
Ramirez was convicted of 13 counts of murder,
five attempted murders, 11 sexual assaults and 14 burglaries. He was sentenced to
death but the sentence would never be carried out. Richard Ramirez died of
cancer on June 7, 2013.
AU, James Potter dealing with his nephew Dudley, for the lovely lovethebluebox, who suggested this prompt to me. Half-arsed attempt at 12 on a Sunday night?? I hope you like it??
Tugging down her satin dress, Petunia Dursley scowled. In her hand was the chubby fist of her son’s, who was currently wriggling around in a bid to not be left alone at this house. This house. Frankly, Petunia didn’t blame him for trying to get away. She didn’t want him here either. But there was a wedding to attend, and the disorganized couple had only told them about it three weeks ago. The Dursleys had tried everyone they knew, every family under the sun, but no one could take their four year old Dudley in for a whole weekend. No one except, of all people, the Potters.
Petunia didn’t trust anyone with her precious boy, least of all her freaky, weird, inexplicably accident-prone sister and her equally unbearable husband. If she could get out of this, she would have, but the soon-to-be-wedded couple was due to go into business with her husband soon. She simply couldn’t let him down.
Sighing, Petunia rang the doorbell.
“Hi!” Lily said brightly, swinging the door open.
“Hello,” Petunia replied stiffly. She thrust the duffle bag at her sister, who took it and set it down beside the door. She handed over her son with another sigh, before lifting her chin.
“Duddles likes his doughnuts, so just give them to him when he wants them. I packed them in there,” she nodded at the bag. “His teddy bears are in there too.”
“Four of them. Make sure he has them with him when he sleeps. And he needs a picture book read to him every night. Now, I don’ want any of your… your…”
“DON’T. Your strangeness, I don’t want any of that in front of him, do you hear me? You’re a bad enough influence as it is.”
“All right. No waving wands around Duddles. No feeding him healthy food. No speaking. No breathing. Got it. Have a great time!”
Lily shut the door in her sister’s face. Right bitch.
“And right you are!” James sauntered into the hall, carrying little Harry. He bent down to give her a kiss on the cheek, before setting Harry down in front of Dudley. He knelt down.
“All right, Dudley? We haven’t met for a while. I’m Uncle James.”
“I know,” the little boy said self-importantly. James’s eyebrows shot up, accompanied by a low chuckle.
“Great. This here’s Harry.”
There was a moment of silence as the two boys eyed each other warily, before Harry spoke up.
“Let’s go see daddy turn leaves into spiders.”
James gave him a look, under which Harry’s shoulders slumped.
“Let’s go play on the swings,” he amended.
Dudley shrugged, and the pair toddled off out the back door.
“He isn’t too bad,” James commented.
“No,” Lily agreed. “He’s actually not.”
After supervising the kids on the swings for a while, during which Lily had to secretly whip out her wand under her cardigan to slow Dudley’s enthusiastic dive off the swings (copying her own son, who very much took after her), and letting them bake cookies with her (the muggle way, even the cleaning up), Lily wiped her hands on her jeans. Glancing at the clock, she called James over.
“I have to go now. I’m supposed to meet Marlene in fifteen minutes.”
“You- wait, what?” James widened his eyes.
“I’m having dinner with Marlene for her birthday, I told you this morning. You said you’d be fine.”
So he did. He was very naïve, he thought.
“Dinner’s ready on the stove. It’s just soup and bread and salad. You just need to get them fed, brush their teeth, and pop them in bed if you can. Or they can paint a bit. It’s all in the cupboard. I’ll try to get out early.”
Leaving James no time to protest, Lily gave him a quick peck on the lips before rushing off to their bedroom. With a resounding crack, James was alone with two squirming toddlers.
“So tell me, Dudley. What do you mugg-people do for fun?” James asked, tossing Dudley another hunk of bread.
“I got a new train thet for my birthday. It’s thteam-powered.”
“Blimey! Just like the Hogwarts Express!”
James was met with a blank stare.
“Er… right. Well, Harry recently got an update on his br-” Right. No magic. “Harry likes to draw, don’t you, Harry?”
Harry nodded solemnly. “I painted mummy the other day,” he said, pointing to the red blob that was currently pinned by the fireplace.
Dudley’s eyes narrowed. “That’s a thun.”
“No, it’s not, it’s mummy.”
“It’s a thun to me.”
“RIGHT.” James stuck his spoon between the two boys, whose heads were leaning closer with each sentence. “Mummy’s happy. Like the sun.”
“I don’t have paint at home,” Dudley mused. His lower lip suddenly started to tremble. “I want paint.”
“Mate, it’s time for bed after dinner.”
“But I want to paint.”
“It’s nearing eight! It’s past your bedtime!”
Dudley’s eyes screwed shut. “I. Want. To. Paint!”
Shit. Doughnuts. Where are the doughnuts? James was out of his seat in a flash, diving for the duffle bag that sat on a breakfast stool. Ripping the zipper open, he looked inside and blanched. He’d used them all up.
James turned back slowly, praying to Merlin and Minerva and all things holy that the boy had moved on.
He was met with a scream.
“All right. All right.” Gathering up the plates, James swore (very quietly). So much for putting them to sleep and dragging Sirius over so he could down ten consecutive Firewhiskey shots and have a sob. Dumping everything in the sink, he sat the bawling Dudley and the bewildered Harry on the living room floor, and went off in search for those damned paint pots.
This was going to be a long night.
“Hey! I’m home!”
The first thing Lily noticed as she slipped her shoes off was a very distinct blue handprint. On the ceiling. Another was splattered on a doorframe, while yellow shoeprints danced into the living room. Lily frowned.
Following them, she walked into the room, where her eyebrows shot up at the three boys on the floor.
James was in tears, Dudley was in tears, and Harry was in the center of the room, making snow angels in a pool of pink.
hmu with some good old-fashioned fluffy Dad!Bruce and Robin!Jason headcanons, it's an emergency
Hi, sorry this was late. I was gone most of the day yesterday.
(The initial answer I had for this prompt ended up becoming a short story which I’ll publish later. For now, have a bunch of little mini hcs)
Bruce accidently knocks out Jason’s last baby tooth during training. Bruce is incredibly apologetic and is near tears when he believes he hurt smol baby. Jason tries to assure him that, yes, he’s fine, that tooth was loose for a while, thanks for getting it out B. But Jay is subject to 2 days of laving treatment and he gets a ridiculous amount from the tooth fairy.
Speaking of which, Jason becomes incredibly shy when Bruce, Alfred anyone tries to buy him things he ‘deems’ unnecessary. Birthdays become an affair as Jason rants that he doesn’t need anymore more than clothes and one meal a day. Bruce assures him over and over that he wants to buy Jason things because he loves him but Jason can’t seem it get it out of his head that he’s being a bother.
Jason secretly hero worships Dick, though when he actually sees Nightwing he acts like he doesn’t care. Because Dick Grayson has everything he wants: he’s got talent and charm, he was the fist sidekick to break onto the scene an now living on his own as a solo hero. Mostly he has Bruce’s love cause Bruce talks about Dickie all the time and Jason wants that so desperately (ironically, Dick is jealous of Jason because Bruce is always telling him about this precious, wonderful kid he took from the streets and Dick feels so replaced.)
Jason gets lost early in his days as Robin. Batman runs after a criminal and, expecting Jay to follow him like Dick, leaves Jason in the dust. Gordon picks up the new bird angrily smoking against the side of the building where he last saw Batman. Gordon smiles, puts out Jay’s cigarette and sneaks him onto the roof of GCPPD activating the signal. When Batman answers a few minutes later, Gordon slyly asserts that this is a police station not a lost child area. Bruce had been going mad trying to find his boy and swoops him up into his cape and takes him home. Jay is given a communicator and three separate tracking devices after that incident.
Red Hood sneaks over to the Manor to see Alfred every now and again just because Alfred was always kind to him and is so non-judgemental. Sometimes Jay will bring his weapons and the two of them will clean them while Alfred tells him of his days in service to the Crown. Unconsciously, Jason leaves little things out of place: A smear of gunmetal grease on the counter, combat boot shoeprints on the driveway, his wallet one time, so that Bruce knows he dropped by. It means a lot to Bruce to know Jay feels comfortable enough to come by the house and hopes someday he can sit in with the two of them.
(oops I slipped a Hood in there, oh well. Hope this will suffice, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to clean up that short story)