#if he’s so smart why doesn’t he make the deductions himself

[lesilence]

To be completely honest I couldn’t care less about Jon and his opinions.

[totallyradicalmucky]

I hate that fuck ass bike

This one scene from the Situpon episode sticks out in my mind a lot so i rewrote? It and essentially the ending. Idk if it has athf vibes but it made me giggle so whateverrr.

“Yknow…honestly? th-this chair is a lot better for my back”

“Wha- Yknow what? This is why you-are- not married. And why you have no *meaningful* friendships- people are *offended*, by the way you look.”

The milkshake gaped.

“I’m a confirmed bachelor!”

“Uh oh! I think I must have struck a ner-“

..Shake had already toppled the Sit-upon over, eyeing angrily it as it lay motionless in the lawn. Back to being the lame exercise bike it was. He felt stupid.

“Stupid BIKE! It hurt my feelings.”

The cup rammed himself back inside the house, shimmying inside his brother’s room and making sure to look twice before digging through the closet. Mumbling nonsense to himself while he strained his body into an old pair of skinny jeans.

The visible pudge on his body only serving to irritate Shake more, talking to himself still. Moving to go through the closet mindlessly, not even realizing Frylock had floated into the room, dodging a can of whipped cream (that was in the closet for some reason) that Shake had thrown behind him.

“..I love the way I look.”

“What are you doing.”

Shake flinched at Frylock’s voice, turning to look at him with that annoyed glare- as usual. It’s not like he wasn’t annoyed to be interrupted, he even was a bit flustered. Thinking about the skinny jeans he still donned ..again just made him furrow his brow. Making the man in front of him a bit confused at the immediate irritation, since he wasn’t mad at Shake for..whatever he was doing.

“I’m uh, lookin for your shrink Ray. Got these

Skinny jeans and they don’t fit me!”

Shake stomped his foot on the ground, feigning a tantrum that was partly cathartic. He grimaced at Frylock, already knowing his brother well enough to know he wouldn’t buy it.

“S’ cause you’re ass ain’t skinny. There ain’t no shortcut to exercise man”

The fries monotonous reply made Shake roll his eyes, immediately quipping back with a

“Uhh- there is with the *Shrink* Ray!”. Frylock raised his eyebrows only slightly at the man, not at all amused with the smart ass comeback..or all that irritated.

“What happened to getting lit up-on my sit-upon?”

Shake squints at Frylock, his frown deepening as he metaphorically gets backed into a corner. Skinny jeans feeling all much the skinnier, he pouts and huffs. Making every noise he could possibly make instead of the answer. Literally clawing at the walls and staring at Frylock to try and make him go away. The aforementioned man, patient as he is, stayed put while Shake went through the stages of “he caught my bitchass.” until finally fessing up.

The milkshake yelled out at first, making Meatwad roll up to the door curiously..only for it to be closed in his face. And then he was quiet, cutting himself off although there was still a bite to his voice. Mad at himself for how embarrassing this all was, he couldn’t make eye contact. Frylock stared stoically, listening with intent although millions of possibilities ran through his mind. None of these showed up in his expression for Shake’s sake.

“That FRIGGEN *shit-upon* called me- I dunno it called me fat or something. Can’t even remember! It doesn’t matter.”

Frylock twitched, eyes squinting as he scanned Shake up and down. Already deducting that the cup was lying his straw off. By why- he didn’t know, I mean it could be damn near anything knowing Shake. But this time he looked deflated, embarrassed, and that was different. Shakes never..like that really. He made a mental note of that, brows furrowing. Mind blanking for a moment before he can say his piece. Meatwad rolling in quietly as the door creaks shut behind him. Looking at the both of them with a mix of curiosity and worry.

Frylock shakes himself out of the mild frustration, getting his thought process back. Looking back at Shake, who was still disheveled. In those shitty skinny jeans that have for no reason. None of them have legs anyways. He speaks sternly, brows still furrowed.

“Shake…What did the sit-upon say to you?”

“Nothing! I already told you Frylock! He just did the uhh..come on! Step it up Fattie haha. You know ..whatever he did for you.”

Shake gulped, seeing Frylock’s eyes for a moment. Grinning to make it more believable although he knows it won’t work. He shifts in his spot, balling his hands into fists. Meatwad seemingly remembering something- digs around in his head.

“Shake.”

“FINE!”

“Y’all.. um y’all.. wait- I got a note! Written in..bicycle grease.”

Shake exhales happily, first time he’d admit to being grateful for Meatwad’s lack of self awareness. Frylock turning around with a grumble, but curious enough to hear him out. Skimming the note.

-Dearest FryDaddy, I took off. Call it a solo ride. I hoped I could change you and unlock your potential. You and I could’ve been together forever! Your butt on my face ..sw-

Frylock crumpled the paper with a grimace, turning back to the cup. Meatwad jumping up on his bed and looking out the window with interest. Shake looking at Frylock, more relaxed but..getting distracted by the window as well shifting to look out of it as well.

“What did the damn bike say to you Shake. I’m tired of this already.”

“Oh yeah uh he said I had no meaningful friends and that people get offended when they look at me. But uh- Fry-“

“HE SAID WHAT.”

“What’s that over there? Above the uh..really rich area in town?”

Frylock, still throughly pissed with this fuck ass workout bike turns to face the window that Meatwad is pointing out of. Seeing a fleet of them flying out over the town. His frown deepens, squinting to spot the Situpon they had used. All three of the food items rushing outside to get a better view as they could hear the bike’s voice yelling. Notably towards Frylock, which only served to piss him off more.

“See you later DICKlock. Which is my new nickname for you! And yes- the seat is my fa-“

The Fryman shot the situpon with his eye lasers, cutting him off and killing him almost instantly. The explosion breaking multiple power lines in the city. Causing a major power outage- the other sit upons now either exploding since they were too close to the initial blast or simply have no direction now so they malfunction. Carl ran out of his house, lacking pants or underwear. Yelling about where the internet went before immediately screaming- and going back inside. Frylock raised an eyebrow.

“Frylock- can you blow that up?”

He turned around at feeling a tug to his side. Eyes widening at being face to face with a comet, huge and firey. Frylock gripped his brothers tightly, sweating underneath the heat of the comet.

“I..I uh I’m no sure Meatwad. I can try.”

He could feel Shake’s eyes on him as he charged his eye lasers up again. Vision going white with the light before the sound of metal whirred and he stopped suddenly- confused. Hearing a familiar voice shout.

“No don’t please! This is a new car!”

The plutonians.

“Yeah we uh, we got pimped out man.”

“Do you like it?”

Ogrethorpe grins.

[ellswritings]

No Place Like Home

Derek Morgan x reader

TW: Mentions of sexual assault on reader, murder, blood, violence, regular criminal minds stuff, angst with a happy ending, this gets very dark at some points so please read at your own discretion, I think that’s it. Lmk if I missed anything.

₊‧ʚ ﹆・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱ🌿ᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

Baraboo Wisconsin.

Y/N L/N’s hometown. The one she left the second she turned sixteen and never looked back. Baraboo is a quaint little place, beautiful views and fun places to go if someone knows where to look. It’s a tight-knit community that’s for sure. Where everyone knows everyone and whatever secrets someone has also belong to the rest of the town. It can be endearing at times but also make an individual feel claustrophobic.

She never planned on coming back here. She graduated college at fourteen and worked her ass off to save enough money to leave by the time her sixteenth birthday rolled around. In fact, that was her birthday present to herself. To get the hell out of there.

Y/N’s father died when she was six years old. He was a hero, a firefighter. He died saving a family of six from a burning house. He was the only one who didn’t make it out alive that day. He managed to get every person out with minimal injuries. Just couldn’t seem to save himself.

After he died, Y/N’s mother, Lisa L/N, was a mess. Completely ignored her daughter after her husband’s, started drinking. Y/N practically raised herself. Until her step father came into the picture. Adrian Cole. The name itself gives her sickly chills just thinking about it.

Y/N continued her studies after getting her first bachelors degree at fourteen. She ended up with a doctorate and three masters under her belt by the time she turned eighteen. The girl is what most specialists would consider a “high potential intellectual.” She has advanced cognitive abilities that contain superior pattern recognition, enhanced situational awareness, an eidetic memory, advanced deception detection, superior deductive reasoning, mental simulation/scenario building, and advanced problem solving.

She’s rather valuable to say the least.

Y/N has had the world at her fingertips since she was born. She’s smart, cunning, calculated. She knows exactly how to get what she wants. Unfortunately, she doesn’t screw up from time to time.

Hence why she got arrested for petty theft when she was eighteen.

She had been working odd jobs for her entire life. Bouncing around from city to city, trying to find a place she could make her home. She somehow ended up in Quantico Virginia, a random bus stop on a long list of places she could go. But it had been a couple months since being there, and one week she didn’t make enough to get herself some basic grocery supplies, so she thought it wouldn’t be the most terrible thing to snag a loaf of bread on the way out of one of the many grocery stores in the city. She didn’t think they’d truly care about one loaf.

Clearly, she was wrong. They apparently needed that bread way more than she did.

And that’s how she ended up the in police station. It wasn’t the most pleasant experience at first. Most of the officers just thought she was some punk kid who got a kick out of stealing. She didn’t even bother trying to explain why she did what she did because they wouldn’t believe her in the first place. And it’s not like they could put her in the system, she was eighteen.

However, as they were processing her, she noticed some of the detectives talking about a murder investigation. They had a man who was found dead in his living room, and the prime suspect was the wife who mysteriously disappeared after it happened.

The thing about having advanced cognitive abilities, is that it’s easy to get stuck inside the many wrinkles of the brain. She also has a compulsive need to correct everything she sees is wrong, and that is why she interrupted their conversation by yelling across the station that the wife is actually a second victim, not the perpetrator.

Of course, most of the detectives thought she was full of crap and didn’t have any idea what she was talking about. The commander however, seemed to have a different opinion. She asked Y/N what made her think that the wife could be a victim in the case.

That led to her explaining that the photos in the crime scene board indicate that there was a third part, and that’s who killed the husband and kidnapped the wife. She pointed out how there were microfibers on the legs of the chair in the photo and that shows how someone had been tied to it with duct tape. And it clearly couldn’t have been the husband with the way there was no ligature marks or redness on his skin.

Needless to say, they found the wife and the person who killed the husband. Turns out it was his best friend who was having an affair with their son’s school teacher. The husband knew to much and threatened to tell his best friend’s wife which led to his demise. Who would’ve thought?

After that case, the commander offered her a position as a consultant on their cases. It gave Y/N the first feeling of stability she’s had in a very long time. She was even able to save enough to buy herself an apartment in the area, and put herself through the FBI academy. Her coworkers at the station were sad when they found out she had been recruited to one of the most elite units in the agency, but they knew her potential was to great to be stuck at the precinct for the rest of her life.

That’s why she’s currently back in Baraboo, the ripe age of twenty-five, with the rest of the Behavioral Analysis Unit team. The leader, Aaron Hotchner, and the rest of the group: David Rossi, Jennifer Jareau, Emily Prentiss, Doctor Spencer Reid, and the one and only… Derek Morgan.

From the moment Y/N met Derek, they clicked. They both have very similar traits but differ in the most important ways. They somehow manage to understand each other on a level that the rest of the team can’t comprehend. The two of them share flirty and playful banter constantly. Everyone in the office thought Penelope and Derek were bad, at least until Y/N sauntered in. She distinctly remember Spencer having to leave the room, his face flushed red after hearing a conversation between Derek and Y/N.

The two always brushed it off as a joke, or something they do to cope with the darkness of the job, but there’s always been a little something more lying underneath it. Neither of them have been able to acknowledge it out loud, but it’s not hard to see.

“How does it feel to be home, Princess?” Derek asks with his signature golden smile, full intention of getting a flirty reaction from her. He cracks his back as the rest of the team gets off the jet, getting ready to split up and head to the station or to the most recent crime scene.

Y/N keeps her eyes trained in the distance, her face cold, hard almost. “This hasn’t been my home for the past nineteen years,” she replies stoically before walking off to join Hotch and Rossi by one of the SUV’s.

Derek is taken aback by her demeanor. She’s never been one to turn down an opportunity to flirt or be witty, especially with him. Y/N has always been a bit closed off, but in the same way Derek is. She doesn’t tell anyone about her past, and she’s never asked him about his. It’s one of the many things he loves about her. She didn’t push when she knew not to. In fact, the most they knew about where the other came from was home towns. Now he did share some about his family because they’re important to him, and so is Y/N, but he never delved too deep. That is until about last year when he was arrested for murdering three boys back home.

Y/N was the only one who tried to help without digging to deep into the things Derek didn’t want found. It killed her a little bit to see how Derek broke down when confronting the real perpetrator, Carl Buford, who also molested Derek as a child. That particularly made it a rough case for her, for more than one reason.

“Reid, JJ,” Hotch calls out to the two. “I want you guys to head to the station with Rossi, see if you can nail down a geographical profile.” The trio nods before heading over to their own SUV. “Prentiss, you come with me to talk to the most recent victims family. Morgan, L/N, head to the crime scene. Sheriff Mills will meet you both there to discuss the rest of the details.”

Y/N nods silently before turning back to Derek. She gestures towards the third black car waiting for them, walking past him and over towards the driver’s seat. Derek grabs her wrist gently as she tries to open the door, “Babygirl, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Following orders,” Y/N answers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Uh-uh,” Derek shakes his head. “Get your cute little ass in that passenger seat right now.” He demands.

“Derek, we don’t have time to argue over who’s gonna drive the damn car,” Y/N snaps, completely out of character. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

His eyebrows shoot up into his nonexistent hairline, “Whoa,” he puts his hands up. “I didn’t mean to upset you, sweetheart. I just like driving you around, that’s all. I thought it was like a little silent agreement we had. You being my passenger princess.”

Y/N’s face softens, but he can still see the anger behind her eyes. There’s definitely something wrong. She’s never been like this without a reason. A small sigh escapes her pink lips, “Okay…” she mumbles, very cutely in Derek’s opinion. “You can drive.”

Without another peep, Y/N climbs into her designated spot besides Derek. He casts her an unsure glance, wondering if maybe she’ll open up to him on the way to the scene, but unfortunately the entire ride was quiet. Apart from the playlist playing in the background. They both had created it for when they were partnered together on a case.

They pull up to the scene, no words uttered between them. Y/N stares out the window, sucking in a deep breath. Her knuckles are a pale white as she clutches onto the door handle. He wants to ask her what’s going through her mind, but knows better than to push when she’s like this.

She steps out of the vehicle, the gravel crunching beneath her feet, Derek following closely behind. As soon as they near the crime scene, she spots Sheriff Mills standing by the perimeter tape, arms crossed but eyes bright when he recognizes her.

“Well, I’ll be damned. Y/N L/N!” Mills calls out with a smile, his voice booming across the lot. “You’re a sight for sore eyes. How long’s it been?”

Y/N offers a small, genuine smile, feeling a rare sense of warmth. “Hey, Sheriff. It’s been a while. Nine years, I think.”

“Nine years,” he repeats with a shake of his head. “You disappeared on us, huh? Look at you now.” He glances over at Derek, curiosity sparking in his eyes.

Y/N glances between the two men. “This is Derek Morgan, one of the best profilers at the BAU.”

Derek steps forward and extends his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

“Likewise,” Mills replies, shaking Derek’s hand firmly before turning back to Y/N. “You always had it in you to do something big.”

Derek watches the brief exchange with interest, noting how Y/N seems more at ease around the sheriff. There was history here, but also a quiet sense of trust. The sheriff gave Y/N a comforting nod before stepping back to let them work.

They cross under the yellow tape and into the scene, where the victim’s body lay partially covered. Derek’s voice is low but steady. “What are we looking at?”

Y/N knelt beside the body, her jaw tightening as she takes in the brutal injuries. “Ligature marks on the wrists and ankles…looks like she was tied up, maybe tortured before…” She let her words trail off, her eyes lingering on the deep gash across the victim’s neck. “The unsub wanted control, dominance. But there’s rage here too.”

Derek nods, crouching down next to her. “The way he escalates...it’s personal. There’s something he’s trying to prove with each kill. Could be revenge or a power trip.”

Y/N swallows hard, her breath hitching for a moment as she takes in the scene. She stands, brushing her hands on her pants as if trying to rid herself of the heaviness in the air.

Derek stands too, noticing the slight shift in her demeanor. He narrows his eyes, stepping closer to her. “You alright?”

Y/N hesitates, casting a glance back at the body. The familiarity of it all—the victim, her face—was a knife in her chest, twisting cruelly.

“I knew her,” Y/N finally admits, her voice barely above a whisper. “Her name’s Claire. We…we went to high school together.”

Derek’s brows furrow, concern flashing across his face. “You didn’t mention that at the briefing.”

She shrugs her shoulders, jaw clenching. “I didn’t think it would be relevant. I haven’t spoken to her in years.” Y/N turns away, looking out into the distance as if trying to find something to balance herself, her mind.

Derek’s hand gently rests on her shoulder, his touch grounding her in a way she wasn’t expecting. “If this is too much, you don’t have to–”

“I’m fine,” she snaps, though the sharpness in her tone is more for herself than him. She looks at Derek, the vulnerability showing through her usual hard exterior. “I just didn’t expect this.”

Derek softens. “You don’t have to be fine, Y/N. Not here, not with me.”

For a moment, their eyes locked, a silent understanding passing between them. But Y/N quickly broke away, determined to stay focused. “Let’s just…get back to work. We have to find this guy.”

They both turned back to the crime scene, their focus shifting back to the task at hand. But the air between them was heavier now, weighed down by the past that had resurfaced with a vengeance.

“Whoever did this,” Derek says quietly, “they knew how to get close. Claire trusted them.”

Y/N nods, her jaw clenched tightly. “He’s not a stranger to any of these women. He’s someone who knows how to blend in. And he’s getting more comfortable.”

Derek meets her eyes, a silent understanding passing between them. They have to catch this unsub before anyone else suffers the same fate. But now, more than ever, Y/N had a personal stake in it. And Derek was going to make sure that, whatever happened, he’d be there for her.

₊‧ʚ ﹆・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱ🌿ᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

The police station is humming with quiet intensity, the kind of buzz that always fills the air when the team is piecing together fragments of a case. They’ve been working nonstop, and the weight of the victims is hanging over all of them. Every detail matters now, every tiny revelation could lead them closer to the truth.

Hotch stands at the head of the room, looking over the maps, notes, and pictures strewn across the table. JJ, Reid, and Rossi are gathered around, quietly talking through the geographical profile they’ve been working on. Emily leans against the wall, flipping through her notes from the victimology interviews. Derek and Y/N, just back from the most recent crime scene, stand a bit apart, their body language tense but focused.

Hotch looks up from the map, his expression sharp and business-like. “What did you find at the crime scene?”

Derek steps forward, his eyes catching Y/N’s briefly before he speaks. “The victim was restrained before she was killed. Ligature marks on her wrists and ankles. She was tortured—cut up pretty bad across her torso. He took his time with her. Cause of death was strangulation, but the wounds came first.”

Reid frowns, looking over at the crime scene photos pinned to the board. “That suggests control. He didn’t just want to kill her, he wanted to inflict pain, assert dominance.”

Rossi nods in agreement, his tone grim. “He’s trying to break them down before killing them. Likely projecting some internal conflict, something personal.”

Y/N stands a little off to the side, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She hasn’t said much since they got back, but Derek knows that look. She’s running the details over and over in her mind, trying to process everything.

Derek glances at her again before continuing. “He’s gotta be in his late 40s or 50s. Strong enough to overpower, but methodical enough to take his time with them.”

Emily pushes off the wall and approaches the table. “We’ve seen it before. Someone with deep insecurities who compensates by dominating their victims. There’s probably a sexual element involved, even if it’s not immediately obvious.”

Hotch is quiet for a moment, taking in all the information. Then he asks, “Was there anything else? Anything personal about her?”

There’s a pause. Derek hesitates, his eyes flicking over to Y/N again. He’s been waiting for her to say something, but she’s been holding back. She looks tense, almost like she’s somewhere else entirely.

Y/N clears her throat, feeling the weight of Hotch’s attention on her. “The victim... her name was Claire.”

Hotch raises an eyebrow. “And?”

Y/N shifts slightly, her voice a little quieter. “I knew her. We went to the same high school.”

That draws everyone’s attention. Reid, JJ, and Emily all look at her with surprise. Rossi’s eyes narrow in thought. Hotch’s expression shifts from curious to stern in an instant.

“You knew her?” His tone is sharp, almost accusatory.

Y/N nods, though it’s clear she’s uncomfortable. “Yeah, but... we weren’t close. I hadn’t seen her since high school. I didn’t even realize it was her until we were at the scene.”

Hotch’s jaw tightens, clearly frustrated. “And you didn’t think that was something we should’ve known?”

Before Y/N can respond, Derek steps in, his voice firm and protective. “She didn’t know until we got there, Hotch. This isn’t something she was hiding. It just hit her at the scene.”

Hotch’s gaze shifts to Derek, his expression still hard, but he doesn’t argue. There’s a beat of silence, the tension palpable in the room. Y/N looks down at the floor, her jaw clenched, clearly battling with the emotions bubbling beneath the surface.

Reid, ever the analyst, chimes in. “If Y/N knew the victim, that could mean the unsub has a connection to her past as well. It’s possible he’s targeting women from the same community.”

JJ nods thoughtfully. “If the victims are all from the same area, it might explain how he’s able to blend in so easily. He knows them, at least in passing.”

Y/N swallows hard, feeling the pressure of everyone’s eyes on her. She’s never liked being the focus of attention, especially not when it comes to something this personal. She hates how it feels like she’s under a microscope right now.

Derek steps a little closer to her, his hand brushing her arm lightly, a silent reassurance. His voice softens, just for her. “You okay, babygirl?”

She forces a tight smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I’m fine.”

Rossi taps the edge of the map in front of him. “If this unsub is blending in with his victims, he’s not the type to stand out. He’s attending social gatherings, getting close to them before striking. He’s comfortable in these environments.”

“That’s how he’s avoiding detection,” Emily adds. “He’s slipping under the radar, appearing harmless.”

Sheriff Mills, who’s been standing quietly in the back of the room, finally speaks up. “You think he’s been attending community events?”

Rossi nods. “It’s likely. He’s integrating himself into their lives without raising suspicion.”

The sheriff frowns, thinking for a moment. “Well, Diane Cole—one of the most prominent women in town—she hosts a weekly Sunday luncheon. Half the community shows up after church.”

Y/N’s entire body goes rigid at the mention of the name. Her breath catches in her throat, her heart pounding suddenly in her chest. The rest of the team doesn’t miss the way her expression changes, the way she seems to freeze in place.

Hotch notices it immediately, his sharp eyes narrowing. “Y/N? Why does that name mean something to you?”

Y/N tries to keep her composure, but it’s slipping. She feels exposed, vulnerable, like the walls she’s spent years building are crumbling around her. Her voice comes out strained, barely above a whisper. “Because Diane Cole is my mother.”

The room falls silent. No one says anything for a moment as they process what she just said. The different last names had kept them from connecting the dots until now, but the revelation is staggering.

Rossi’s eyes soften with understanding, but Hotch’s expression grows darker. He takes a slow breath, his frustration evident. “You didn’t think to tell us that your mother hosts one of the biggest events in town? One that our unsub no doubt plucks his victims from?”

Y/N shakes her head, her voice cracking slightly. “She and I... we haven’t spoken in years. I left home when I was sixteen, Hotch. It’s not like I’m going out of my way to connect with my mother. She’s not—” She stops herself, not wanting to open that door. “She’s not apart of my life. We’re not close.”

Hotch is clearly irritated, but before he can say anything else, Derek puts his hand on Y/N’s back, his voice low and calm, but with a protective edge. “Look, Hotch, this isn’t easy for her. She’s not keeping things from us on purpose. Let’s just focus on what we know and move forward.”

Hotch stares at Derek for a long moment, clearly weighing his words. Finally, he nods, letting the issue drop for now. “Alright. The luncheon is our best lead. Y/N, Derek, Emily—you three will come with me and we’ll see if anyone stands out. We need to be cautious. We don’t know what this guy looks like yet, but he’s dangerous.”

Y/N swallows hard, nodding along with the rest of the team. She feels Derek’s steady presence beside her, his hand on her arm again, grounding her. She meets his eyes for a brief moment, grateful for his unwavering support.

“We got this,” Derek murmurs, just for her. His voice is soft but full of confidence.

Y/N takes a deep breath, steadying herself. “Yeah. We do.”

As the team breaks off to prepare for the next steps, Y/N lingers for a moment, the weight of what’s to come settling heavily on her shoulders. She’s about to walk back into a part of her life she thought she’d left behind for good, and the thought terrifies her. But with Derek by her side, she knows she can face it. She has to.

₊‧ʚ ﹆・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱ🌿ᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

The drive to Y/N’s childhood home is filled with a heavy silence. Derek occasionally glances over at her, but she stares straight ahead, her face unreadable. He knows she’s shutting down, retreating into herself as the memories she’s been trying to bury claw their way to the surface. The tension in her body has been there ever since they received word that the unsub might be attending her mother’s Sunday luncheon, and it hasn’t left her since.

As the car pulls up to the house, Y/N’s stomach knots. The familiar two-story building looms in front of them, looking almost exactly the same as it did the day she left nine years ago. The white picket fence, the flower beds her mother used to tend to religiously—everything looks frozen in time, untouched by the years she’s been gone.

Derek cuts the engine and turns to her. “You sure about this, princess?”

Y/N swallows hard, forcing a small nod. “Yeah.”

She isn’t sure. Not even close. But she’s here for the case, and that’s what matters. She can’t afford to let her emotions get in the way of the investigation, no matter how much being here is already tearing her apart.

They step out of the car, and Derek moves beside her, a steady presence as they walk up the path. Hotch and Prentiss are already ahead, scanning the area as they approach the front door. Y/N’s eyes flick around, taking in the familiar sights—the swing set that used to creak with the wind, the porch steps she used to sit on every evening, staring at the stars. All of it feels distant, like a life that belongs to someone else.

As soon as they step onto the porch, the front door swings open. Diane Cole, Y/N’s mother, stands in the doorway, her face lighting up in a wide smile. “Y/N!” she exclaims, her voice filled with warmth and hospitality as if no time has passed at all. “Oh, my goodness, it’s been so long!”

Y/N’s body tenses as her mother wraps her in a tight embrace. The scent of her perfume—familiar, suffocating—fills Y/N’s nostrils. She stands stiffly, arms at her sides, not reciprocating the hug. She can feel Derek’s eyes on her, the weight of his concern palpable, but she doesn’t move.

Diane pulls back, her hands still on Y/N’s shoulders, beaming at her. “Look at you! You’ve grown into such a beautiful young woman.”

Y/N forces a smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Hi, Mom.”

Diane doesn’t seem to notice her daughter’s coldness or, if she does, she ignores it. “Come in, come in!” she says, ushering them inside with a wave of her hand. “Everyone’s already here. We were just about to start lunch.”

Y/N steps inside the house, the familiar creak of the floorboards under her feet making her stomach turn. The smell of roast chicken wafts through the air, mingling with the sound of chatter coming from the dining room. It’s all so painfully familiar, like stepping back into the life she left behind.

Hotch and Prentiss follow them in, their eyes scanning the room, already analyzing the guests milling about. Derek stays close to Y/N’s side, his presence grounding her, but even that isn’t enough to quell the anxiety bubbling up inside her.

As they move into the living room, Diane can’t seem to stop talking. “It’s so wonderful to have everyone here. We do this every Sunday, you know. Just a little gathering after church. Keeps the community close.”

Y/N nods absently, her eyes flicking around the room. She’s searching for something—someone—though she’s not entirely sure who she’s looking for. The unsub is here. That much they know. But standing in this house, surrounded by people she hasn’t seen in years, feels like walking through a minefield.

Diane turns to Derek, her smile still plastered on her face. “And who’s this?”

Diane’s smile widens. “Oh, it’s so nice to meet you, Derek. Please, make yourself at home. We’ve got plenty of food, and if you need anything, just let me know.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Derek replies politely, though his attention is already back on Y/N. He can see how tense she is, the way her eyes are darting around the room, scanning faces, assessing the crowd. She’s in work mode, but there’s something deeper, something more personal eating away at her.

As they move further into the house, Diane continues to chatter, offering drinks, asking about their work, pretending as though she hasn’t been estranged from her daughter for nearly a decade. Y/N barely listens, her mind racing as she takes in every detail, every face.

As they began to split up, Y/N felt a wave of relief wash over her. She’d always preferred to keep her distance from the noise and chaos of family gatherings, and today was no different. “I’ll check the backyard,” she suggested, hoping to create some space between herself and the tension inside.

“Be careful,” Derek said quietly, watching her with concern as she slipped outside.

Once she stepped into the backyard, the sun was almost too bright, illuminating the vibrant flowers in the garden but doing nothing to warm the coldness settling in her bones. She leaned against the wooden railing of the porch, breathing deeply, attempting to ground herself.

For a moment, it was quiet. The chirping of birds and the rustle of leaves filled the air, allowing Y/N to momentarily escape the chaos inside. But just as she started to relax, the back door creaked open. She turned to see Adrian, her stepfather, stepping onto the porch. The brightness of the day dulled as he approached, his confident demeanor wrapping around her like a shroud.

“Y/N,” Adrian said, his voice dripping with feigned warmth. “It’s been a long time.”

Y/N stiffened, her pulse quickening. “What are you doing here?” she asked, trying to keep her tone steady despite the rising tide of panic.

“I came to check in on you,” he takes a silly step closer to her. “You’ve grown up so much,” he said, his eyes scanning her with a mixture of familiarity and something more invasive. “You know, your mother is worried about you. You should visit more often.”

Y/N felt a wave of discomfort wash over her. “I’m fine. I don’t need checking on,” she replied firmly, trying to keep her tone from betraying her nerves. “And I have a busy job. I don’t have time for trivial visits.”

“Really? You’re fine? Because you look like you’re about to bolt. I thought we were past this.” Adrian’s voice turned sharper, an edge of annoyance creeping in as he crossed his arms over his chest.

At that moment, Derek stepped out onto the porch, instantly sensing the tension in the air. He glanced between Y/N and Adrian, picking up on the shift in Y/N's posture—the way her shoulders were tense and how she seemed to shrink back.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Derek asked, concern lacing his voice.

Adrian turned his gaze to Derek, sizing him up as if trying to gauge his intentions. “And who might you be?” he asked, feigning curiosity but with a hint of challenge.

“I’m SSA Derek Morgan with the BAU,” Derek replied, his tone neutral but his stance protective. “We’re here to investigate.”

“Investigate?” Adrian scoffed, his eyes narrowing. “What do you need to investigate in a place like this? It’s just a house.”

“Everything in here could be important,” Derek replied evenly, maintaining eye contact. He felt the tension simmering in the air, aware that any hint of aggression could escalate quickly.

Adrian took a step closer to Y/N, invading her space. “Well, Y/N and I have a lot to discuss, don’t we? Family matters are important. So I think it would be best for you to continue your investigation inside.” There was an underlying threat in his tone, one that made Derek’s instincts flare.

Derek shifted forward, placing himself between Adrian and Y/N, his presence a solid wall. “She doesn’t seem to want to talk,” he said firmly, glancing back at Y/N, searching for reassurance in her eyes. “I think you should give her some space.”

Adrian’s demeanor shifted slightly, his confidence cracking as he tried to reassert himself. “Space? I’m her stepfather. I have every right to speak to her.”

“That doesn’t mean you have the right to make her uncomfortable,” Derek replied, his voice steady but edged with authority. He wasn’t here to play games—he needed to protect Y/N, especially if something felt off.

Adrian’s smile faded as he took another step forward, his eyes darkening. “You’re just some guy, aren’t you? An FBI agent trying to play hero. What do you know about family?”

Derek squared his shoulders, refusing to back down. “I know that family should support one another, not intimidate. And from what I can see, you’re not doing that.”

Y/N felt the tension spike, her heart racing as she sensed Adrian’s irritation boiling beneath the surface. Derek was standing his ground, but she could see the way Adrian’s demeanor shifted—his posture becoming more aggressive.

Adrian’s gaze flicked between Derek and Y/N, and she felt the weight of his scrutiny. “You don’t know her like I do. I’m trying to help her,” he said, his voice lowering as he leaned closer to Derek, trying to assert dominance.

“Help her?” Derek echoed incredulously, his tone clipped. “By pressuring her? You’re not helping anyone but yourself.”

“Watch yourself,” Adrian warned, his voice turning low and menacing. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with here.”

Derek’s jaw tightened, and he took a step closer to Adrian, matching his intensity. “And you don’t know who you’re threatening. Back off.”

Just then, Y/N felt the walls closing in around her. Adrian’s words were wrapping around her like a vice, squeezing her heart and pushing her instincts into overdrive. She could feel herself being pulled in two different directions—Derek’s protective stance grounding her but also reminding her of the past she was trying to escape.

“Y/N,” Adrian said, his tone shifting again as he turned back to her, that familiar manipulation creeping into his voice. “You don’t have to listen to him. I’m just looking out for you.”

She shook her head, the memories crashing over her like a wave. “I don’t need you to look out for me,” she said, her voice firm but low, trying to keep it steady as her hands trembled at her sides. “I’m done with that.”

Derek shot her a glance, noticing the shift in her demeanor. “Y/N, you okay?” he asked, concern thick in his voice.

“I’m fine,” she insisted, but the strain in her tone betrayed her.

Adrian smirked, the kind of smile that sent a chill down Y/N's spine. “Look how protective you are of her,” he said to Derek, his voice dripping with mockery. “Isn’t that sweet?”

“Enough,” Derek said sharply, stepping further in front of Y/N, his body a shield. “You’re crossing a line.”

Adrian’s demeanor darkened, his posture becoming more aggressive as he looked back at Derek, trying to assert his dominance. “You think you can just waltz in here and play protector?”

“Believe me man, I’m not playing,” Derek replied, his voice low and steady.

That was when Y/N felt the weight of everything pressing down on her. She couldn’t stand it. Adrian’s presence, the memories flooding back, and the way Derek was standing up for her—it was all too much. Without another word, she turned and walked briskly toward the front door, needing to escape the suffocating atmosphere.

“Y/N!” Derek called after her, but she was already moving, her heart pounding in her ears.

She rushed through the living room, her mind racing. She felt a wave of anxiety surge as she stepped outside, the sunlight hitting her face, but it felt distant, almost cold.

“Y/N! What happened?” Prentiss shouted, following her outside. The concern in her voice echoed in Y/N’s mind.

“I just... need a minute,” Y/N replied quietly, trying to control the tremble in her voice.

Hotch stepped outside, his brow furrowed as he assessed the situation. “What’s going on?” he asked, his tone serious.

“Nothing,” Y/N breathes heavily, her chest heaving from anxiety and anger. “Nothing, I-I I’m fine.” She didn’t want to relive it; she didn’t want to talk about Adrian or the past. “I don’t want to discuss this.” She shakes her head rapidly.

“Why are you upset?” Prentiss pressed gently, her eyes filled with concern.

“I said I don’t want to talk about it!” Y/N finally snaps, her voice slightly rising as she felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. She turned away from them, needing to find a way to breathe, to think without the weight of their gazes on her.

“Y/N, please,” Derek said softly, stepping closer but remaining respectful of her space. “Talk to us. We’re here to help.”

She shook her head, feeling the panic rising within her. “I can’t do this right now,” she said, her voice breaking. “I just– I cant. I’ll jeopardize the case if I go back in there. And I can’t do that to those women. I can’t mess this up.”

With that, she turned and strode toward the SUV parked at the curb, the need to retreat overwhelming her. She climbed into the back seat, shutting the door firmly behind her, pressing her forehead against the cool glass, desperately trying to find calm in the chaos that had erupted.

“Y/N!” Derek called again, but she didn’t respond, her heart racing as she stared out the window, willing the memories to stay buried and the present to fade away.

The team gathered outside, their expressions a mix of confusion and concern as they exchanged worried glances. “What do we do?” Prentiss asked, glancing from Hotch to Derek.

“We give her space,” Hotch replied, his voice steady. “She’ll talk when she’s ready.”

Derek clenched his fists, frustration coursing through him. He wanted to reach out, to comfort her, but he knew that pushing would only make things worse. “I hate this,” he muttered, his gaze fixed on the closed door of the SUV.

As the minutes ticked by, Y/N closed her eyes, willing herself to breathe, to find calm in the chaos swirling around her. She couldn’t let Adrian’s presence ruin everything she had worked for, everything she had fought to build. But deep down, she knew the shadows of her past wouldn’t let her go so easily.

₊‧ʚ ﹆・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱ🌿ᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

Walking back into the police station, Y/N managed to get the entire teams attention without even speaking. The unfortunate part about working with such observant people is that even if she breathes a little too heavy, they can tell exactly what she’s thinking. And let’s just say her breathing is way different than what they would consider her “normal.”

Spencer, JJ, and Rossi all watch with concerned eyes as Y/N practically storms into the designated room they have for the case, slamming the door behind her. The glass windows shake from the force and she places her hands on the table before zeroing in on the case board in front of her.

Hotch, Emily, and Derek walk in, their own cautious gaze setting everyone on edge. Rossi looks at the trio, pointing back at the fuming agent in the other room. “What happened there?”

Hotch states after his younger agent, tilting his head as he tries to gauge whether she’s more upset or angry from beyond the window. “Something set her off at the house,” he answers.

“Not something, someone,” Emily corrects with a worried sighs. “As soon as her stepfather showed up, it was like her entire world stopped. And not in a good way.”

“Stepfather?” JJ furrows her eyebrows.

“Adrian Cole,” Reid answers for them, causing everyone to look at him confused.

“And how did you know that?” Hotch questions flatly.

“When she mentioned Diane was her mother, I did some digging and asked some of the other officers about her,” Reid admits with a harsh swallow as he notices Morgan glaring in his direction. No doubt for probing into Y/N’s life. “Diane got married to Adrian when Y/N was eight years old. Three years after her father died. He’s currently fifty-two, eight years older than Diane. I guess everyone was pretty surprised to find out they were seeing each other,” Reid reveals. “Sheriff Mills told me that it was the talk of the town when it originally happened. Adrian was kind of a recluse, not approached by many, kind of a ‘creep’ as described by the deputies,” he gestures over in the other direction. “So it was surprising to find out that Diane ended up with him, especially since she married her high school sweetheart, Y/N’s father, Daniel L/N.”

“So she kept her father’s last name,” Rossi points out, glancing back over to Y/N. “Shows how much she truly wanted to distance herself from her mother. Not taking her new husband’s last name.”

“Or maybe she was just closer with her dad,” JJ suggests.

“Or maybe her stepfather never got over his ‘creep’ reputation,” Emily scoffs out. “Gotta admit, if he was my stepdad, I wouldn’t want his last name either. I mean, the way he walked up to Y/N… it was almost predatory.”

Derek stands off to the side, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He listens to the conversation but doesn’t say anything yet. He’s been watching Y/N closely ever since they walked into her mother’s house, noticing every shift in her demeanor, every tell-tale sign that she was far from okay. Now, hearing the others discuss her like she’s some puzzle to solve only makes his jaw tighten.

“We can’t just sit here and talk about her like she’s not in the other room,” Derek’s voice breaks them out of their conversation. “We shouldn’t be discussing and probing into her life without talking to her first.”

“She doesn’t exactly look like she wants to talk, Derek,” Emily points out. “She kind of bit our heads off when we originally tried to get something out of her. We’re just trying to get an idea so we can help.”

“Well maybe instead of talking about her we should be talking to her,” Derek says snippily. “Then we might actually be able to get her to open up.”

Hotch raises an eyebrow, “You think she’ll open up?”

“To me? Oh, I know she will,” Derek nods his head confidently. “She trusts me. If anyone is going to get through to her, it’s me.” He says, his voice steady, though there’s an edge of protectiveness in his tone.

Without waiting for anyone else to respond, Derek heads toward the room where Y/N disappeared. The others exchange quick glances, knowing Morgan has a point. He’s closer to Y/N than anyone else on the team, and if she’s going to talk to anyone, it’s him.

Inside the room, Y/N stands in front of the caseboard, her eyes scanning over the photos and files without really seeing them. Her mind is racing, and it’s written all over her face. Derek walks in quietly, closing the door behind him. He watches her for a moment, his eyes softening as he sees the tension in her shoulders, the way she’s gripping the edges of the table like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded.

"Princess," he says softly, using the nickname he knows she responds to when she’s upset. "You okay?"

Y/N doesn’t turn around, her voice coming out strained. "I’m fine, Derek."

He takes a step closer, his tone gentle but firm. "No, you’re not. Talk to me."

She lets out a shaky breath, still not looking at him. "It’s... it’s nothing. I just—there’s too much going on. I need to focus."

Derek’s not buying it. He steps closer until he’s standing next to her, he gently places his pointer finger under her chin, lifting her head up to him. "Y/N, look at me."

Reluctantly, she allows him to lovingly adjust her head, her eyes meeting his. The moment their gazes lock, Derek can see it—the fear, the anger, the confusion. She’s holding it all in, trying to keep herself together, but it’s a losing battle.

"You don’t have to do this alone babygirl,” Derek says softly, his voice full of concern. "Whatever’s going on, you know I’ve got your back."

For a second, she looks like she’s going to say something, but then she shakes her head, turning away from him again. "It’s just... I don’t know, Derek. I don’t know what to do, what to say,” she huffs frustratedly. “Things are a lot more complicated than everyone thinks they are.”

He watches her, giving her the space she needs but staying close, his presence solid and unwavering. "You don’t have to have all the answers right now. Just talk to me."

Y/N’s breath hitches, and she suddenly steps back from the caseboard, running a hand through her hair as she starts to pace. "It’s not just about Adrian, okay? There’s... there’s something else."

Derek watches her carefully, his eyes tracking her movements as she starts to unravel. "What is it?"

Y/N’s mind is moving a million miles a minute, pieces clicking together as she starts connecting the dots. She stops pacing and stares at the board again, her heart pounding. "I found the connection," she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper.

Derek’s brow furrows. "What?"

Y/N swallows hard, her hands trembling slightly as she starts flipping through the files. "It’s me,” she admits shakily. “I’m the connection,” she rushes out, throwing files left and right. “The girls. I know all of them. I guess I haven’t been processing faces until now, trying to block out the memories I have here, but I can’t do it anymore. These women…” her hands tremble as she moves. “They’re dead because they knew me.”

“Whoa, whoa, sweetheart, slow down,” Morgan places his hands on her shoulders gently to get her to stop rambling. “What do you mean you’re the connection? You haven’t been here in over nine years.”

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, letting the warmth of Derek’s hands try to slow her mind. It works momentarily, but does nothing to slow her racing heart at the realization that she could be the key to this entire case. And she did exactly what she promised she wouldn’t. She jeopardized it. Ignored the fact she faintly recognized each victim. Ignored the nagging feeling in her brain that something was off. Thats why the team has been struggling to track the unsub, because they’ve been missing one key element. The connection between the victims. Why he picks them.

“They were all part of the same support group I was in when I was a teenager.” She swallows thickly, rubbing her now sweaty, nervous hands on her slacks. “All of them. That’s why I recognized Claire... and the others.”

Derek steps closer, his voice low but urgent. “A support group? For what?”

Y/N’s chest tightens as the memories flood back, memories she’s tried so hard to bury. "For survivors of abuse. Sexual abuse."

There’s a beat of silence as Derek processes what she’s just said. His jaw tightens, his protective instincts kicking in even harder. "Y/N..."

She doesn’t give him a chance to say anything else. Her eyes dart across the files, her mind racing as she speaks faster. "This isn’t just random. He’s targeting them, Derek. The girls from the group. I don’t know why, but he’s going after them. And now... now it’s happening again. They went through something so evil and vile as kids and now… now they’re being killed for it.”

Derek takes a step forward, his hand reaching out to gently grab her arm, grounding her. "Hey, slow down. We’ll figure this out, okay? You’re not alone in this."

“Derek, what if that means I’m next?” She asks him. “We have five victims, and there was only six people in the group. I’m the only one left.” She moves back to the case board, trying to see if any new information will reveal itself after this epiphany. “And it-it’s not like a lot of people knew about it…” she mumbles. “It was a private group, very secluded. It was us and whoever we chose to tell about our experience.”

“Babygirl…” The way Derek calls out to her, she can already tell exactly what question he’s going to ask next. Which is the main reason why she didn’t tell him sooner. She’s been trying to avoid the answer to this question for her entire life.

“Who did this to you?”

Y/N freezes, her eyes traveling down to her feet. She fights off the tears welling behind her eyes, needing to stay strong. This can’t have a hold over her anymore. She can’t keep living like this. In terror of returning to the place she used to call home.

“Adrian,” she says, her voice cracking. She doesn’t even have to turn to Derek to know his fists are clenched. She can feel the anger radiating off of him at the revelation. It all makes sense to him now. Why Y/N’s been acting off since getting to Baraboo, why she was uncomfortable in her childhood home, why she looked like she wanted to run and hide the second Adrian approached her. He violated her in a way no person should ever be violated. In a way that he understands all too well.

He manages to get ahold of his fury, walking closer to her. He sits down in the chair directly next to her body. He reaches out, grabbing her hand and rubbing his thumb over her soft skin. “How long?” He asks, a pained tone in his voice.

She keeps her eyes trained on her shoes, “Ten to fourteen,” she says barely above a whisper. “I went to the support group until I left for college at sixteen.” Y/N sits down next to him, almost hiding within herself. “Most of the other girls were older than me,” her eyes barely graze over the crime scene photos.

“Babygirl, this went on for four years? Did you tell anyone?” Derek wonders, not judging because he didn’t say anything either.

“I tried–” her voice cracks again as she chokes back her tears. She clears her throat to regain her composure, “I told my mom,” she admits quietly. “But she didn’t believe me. She told him I told her and that’s when things went downhill. She called me a liar, told me no one would believe me. Adrian played the victim throughout the whole thing, but the same night he came into my room and–” she sucks in a deep breath. “He told me it was my fault. That he was being so nice to me for doing what he was doing. Told me I wouldn’t make it without him or his help. And I was just a kid,” she sniffles. “I was scared out of my mind. I couldn’t defend myself because I believed him. And my own mother didn’t even think I was telling the truth. How could I tell the police?”

Derek doesn’t say anything but moves forward to pull her in for a hug. He holds her tightly and she slowly melts into his chest. They both can feel the eyes of the team on them, but choose to ignore it. “That’s why I went to the support group.” She continues, slightly muffled by Derek’s chest. “Because they were feeling the same way I was. Even if the people who did it to them were caught and put away, they still understood what it felt like.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t want you to have to relive this, but I gotta ask… Who else knew about these meetings?” He lifts her head up, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “Anyone that you can think of. If you truly believe you are the key to this case, you’re the only one who would know.”

“I didn’t tell anyone,” Y/N says honestly. “Whenever I would go I would say it was for tutoring or book club. I didn’t want them to know I was looking for help. But the other girls could’ve told someone. I don’t think they did though. When we went it was for us. To help us cope. We didn’t feel the need to tell anyone else because we had each other.” Her forehead creases as she tries to think of someone who could’ve been aware. “I guess the only other person who would’ve known is the girl who facilitated it. She graduated five years before I even got there. Got a degree in psychology. I think she actually became a therapist here.”

“Would she have told anyone?”

“No,” Y/N shakes her head. “She was big on confidentiality. That’s why we all trusted her.” She thinks back to try and remember any detail she could. “Her name is Candy Brown. Dark hair, a couple inches shorter than me, real organized, had set schedules and certain ticks. Like borderline OCD. She would have to click her pen three times when moving onto a new person while taking notes.”

“She kept records?” Derek’s face suddenly morphs into one of extreme concern. “Y/N, if she wrote down everything you guys ever told her, someone could’ve easily found the notes and that’s how our unsub got his information. That’s how he could’ve figured out who was in the group.”

“We need to tell the team,” Y/N looks out the window towards the group of people who haven’t moved since Derek came to talk to her.

“Baby–”

“No,” she shakes her head, using her right hand to cup the side of his face. She looks him in the eyes genuinely for the first time since arriving in Wisconsin. “It’s okay,” Y/N reassures him. “This is information that pertains to the case and can help catch our unsub. They need to know.”

₊‧ʚ ﹆・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱ🌿ᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

After telling the team all about her past, Y/N felt embarrassed but overall relieved. She could tell they were heartbroken for her, but none of them went too overboard with it, knowing it would make things worse if they coddled her over it. She was grateful to have Derek with her. She wouldn’t have been able to get through it without having a panic attack if he wasn’t holding her hand all the way through it.

Hotch sent her and Derek to find Candy and ask if she had lost her notes in recent months while him and the rest of the team delivered the more updated profile. Now that they had all the information, they could get a better idea of who this guy is.

Y/N was almost in awe of how large Candy’s building was. Sheriff Mills had given her and Derek the directions to get there, and it was almost refreshing seeing someone from that time in Y/N’s life flourishing. Especially since the other girls didn’t even get the chance to.

Walking into the office, Derek and Y/N flash their badges at the receptionist, informing her of who they are and why they’re here. She quickly guides them to Candy who is fervently writing down information.

“She just got done with a patient,” the receptionist whispers. “She’ll be done any second now.”

Suddenly the dark haired woman’s head shoots up, but not before clicking her pen three times. The same thing she needed to do when trying to move on from person to person.

“Candy Brown,” Derek begins, walking up to the woman to respectfully shake her hand. Y/N follows after him, her hands folded neatly in front of her. “I’m SSA Derek Morgan, and this is–”

“Y/N L/N,” Candy finishes, a mixture of shock and confusion in her voice. A small smile crosses her face as she takes in the now adult woman in front of her. “Wow,” she breathes out. “I haven’t seen you in–”

“Nine years?” Y/N finishes.

Candy nods, “Yeah.” She furrows her eyebrows, looking in between her and Derek, “What’s going on? I know your guys’ team is here investigating the murders, but why are you here?” She asks curiously.

“You remember the support group you created when I was here?” Y/N immediately jumps into the conversation, not bothering to beat around the bush.

“Yes?”

Y/N takes another step forward, analyzing the room around her, “I don’t know if you realized, but all of the victims were participants in the group.”

“Of course I realized,” Candy says. “That’s why I was so surprised to hear that you not only came back but are also working on a case where you could be a potential target.”

“And you weren’t worried about being a target?” Derek asks, brow quirked.

“No,” Candy answers with a small shrug. “After he killed Laura-”

“The second victim,” Y/N adds for clarification.

“Yeah,” Candy nods. “After I found out she was killed, I knew it was a matter of time before the others went.”

“And how exactly did you come to that conclusion?” Derek folds his arms, not understanding how she has so much intel on the case.

She swallows thickly, looking around and avoiding eye contact with the two agents. Y/N tilts her head, narrowing her eyes which makes the shorter woman squirm. “Candy…?” Y/N says expectantly.

“I thought they would’ve told you by now,” Candy starts. “I had a different office before this one. My old one burned down after it was burglarized.” Her explanation makes Y/N’s stomach twist in multiple different directions. Her and Derek make eye contact, knowing exactly where this is going.

“Let me guess, this all happened around two months ago?” Derek sighs when he watches Candy nod her head.

“Yeah. So someone did tell you?”

“No,” Y/N corrects. “That’s just when our unsub started killing.” She looks at Candy with a serious expression, “Listen, I need you to think long and hard about who could’ve had access to your office. Who also might’ve taken too much of an interest in the work you do with sexual abuse survivors.”

Derek elaborates more on the profile, “He should be a white male, late 40s to early 50s. He acts confident as a way to overcompensate for his past failures. He can be a bit of a creep sometimes but tries to cover it up with a facade of charm. He’s become an influential member of the community, but he wasn’t always that way. He had to claw his way up.”

Candy’s brows are furrowed in thought as she thinks deeply about what they’ve said. Her mind goes over the different people that were employed with her, those who spoke to her about her work, who showed interest. That’s when her eyes light up. She looks at Y/N, her lip quivering.

“What?” Y/N asks, immediately noticing the shift. “Candy, what is it?”

“The only other person who could’ve had access to my office in the other building was the cleaner I hired,” she answers. “I hired a third party to come later at night so my day janitors and custodians could go home earlier during the day.”

“Do you remember who this third party is?” Derek asks urgently, getting ready to phone Hotch.

Candy’s face falls, “It was Adrian,” she reveals quietly. Y/N feels like she’s been shot in the chest when the words leave her old friend’s lips. “He’s had this free lance cleaning business for some time now. It’s been pretty successful with all the small businesses around here. He was always asking questions after my meetings, but I would never tell him much. You know I wouldn’t betray Doctor-patient confidentiality like that.” Y/N nods along with the statement. “But after you left, the girls continued to see me. We met in group settings until I built my practice and then they started coming individually. Just for someone to talk to.”

“Did you still keep handwritten notes?” Y/N questions.

“Yeah,” Candy nods. “It’s the most efficient way for me to keep my thoughts organized. But there was one evening I remember that Claire came in and she was telling me how she felt isolated from the community. It was something all the girls had been hinting at, but I didn’t take it seriously until I realized all of them had said it. I was frustrated that I didn’t see them all asking me for help. So when Adrian came in that night, I just said that some of my clients felt alone.” She mentally facepalms, “I know I shouldn’t have even engaged in conversation, but he was just being so involved and nice about it. That’s when he told me to invite them to your mom’s luncheon.”

“And did they go?” Derek questions.

“Yes,” Candy nods. “I encouraged them to go together as emotional support. They all went to the same one.”

Y/N sighs, realizing they’ve already spoken to their unsub and let him get away. “And let me guess, it was the Sunday before your office was burglarized?”

Candy rubs a hand over her face, “And their files were the only ones unaccounted for.”

“Y/N, we need to call Hotch,” Derek tells her seriously. “We’re gonna need backup.”

She nods, a more than determined expression on her face. “Let’s go.”

₊‧ʚ ﹆・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱ🌿ᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

Rolling up to her mother’s house twice within the span of a day was unexpected for Y/N, but she’s determined now more than ever to make sure this visit leaves an impact. The woman is the first one out of an SUV, darting towards the door with her gun ready in her hands. Derek follows closely behind, accompanied by Hotch and the rest of the team.

Diane’s car is in the driveway, so Y/N knows this isn’t going to go as smoothly as she desires. If she could just go in and take Adrian down, she would. But she knows her mother is going to try and fight it.

Hotch gives the signal, and Derek pushes the door open, stepping in first with Y/N close behind. The rest of the team fans out, guns at the ready, but Y/N’s focus is singular: Adrian.

Diane is in the living room, flipping through a magazine. She looks up, startled to see them. “Y/N?” she says, her voice warm with surprise. She stands, smiling tentatively, “What’s going on? What are you doing here?”

Y/N’s throat tightens as she looks at her mother. The warmth, the confusion in Diane’s eyes—it almost feels like any other visit, except this time, it’s not. “We need to talk to Adrian,” Y/N says, her voice steady but distant.

Diane frowns, glancing at the rest of the team behind her daughter. “What’s going on? Why do you need to talk to him?” Her smile fades slightly, but there’s still an air of disbelief as if this can’t possibly be serious.

Hotch steps in, his voice professional, calm. “Where’s Adrian, Mrs. Cole? We need to speak with him.”

Diane looks between Y/N and the team, her confusion deepening. “He’s in the bathroom. But what’s this about?”

Y/N feels the familiar dread creeping in, the same doubt her mother always carried. She avoids Diane’s gaze and nods toward the hallway, signaling to Derek and Rossi. “Go get him.”

As Derek and Rossi head toward the hallway, Diane’s tone shifts, becoming more defensive. “Wait, Y/N, what’s going on? You can’t just barge in here—”

Y/N feels a knot form in her chest, but before she can respond, Derek’s voice calls out, sharp. “Adrian! We know you’re in there. It’s over!”

There’s a clatter from the bathroom, followed by silence. Y/N’s eyes dart toward the hallway, tension crackling between them all. She can’t breathe, waiting for the door to open, for Adrian to step out.

Diane’s face hardens now, the warmth fading. “Wait, you think Adrian had something to do with these murders you’re here for?” she asks, her voice incredulous. “This is absurd. He hasn’t done anything!”

Derek reappears at the doorway, his eyes locked on Adrian as he exits the bathroom. Adrian’s face is calm, too calm, but there’s an edge to his voice as he looks from Derek to Y/N. “What’s this about?”

“We know what you’ve been doing,” Y/N says, her voice breaking the silence, though her throat feels like it’s closing in on itself. The weight of her past is crashing down all at once. “We know you found out about my old support group and have been preying on the women.”

Diane’s eyes widen in shock, her voice turning sharp. “Wait—what? This is what you’re accusing him of?” She turns to Y/N, disbelief clear in her expression. “You can’t be serious, Y/N. You’ve always had it out for Adrian—”

“Mrs. Cole, stop,” Derek interrupts, his voice firm as he steps between Y/N and her mother. His protective instincts kick in, but there’s a bite in his words now as he faces Diane directly. “You didn’t believe her then, and I get that you don’t wanna believe her now, but this isn’t a game. He’s connected to multiple murders.”

Diane’s face turns pale as the words sink in, but she shakes her head, her hands trembling slightly. “You’re wrong,” she says, her voice breaking. “Adrian wouldn’t—he didn’t do anything.”

Y/N feels the sting of her mother’s disbelief. After everything, Diane still won’t accept it. Derek glances at Y/N, his voice lowering but full of fire. “She’s your daughter. You should’ve protected her. Instead, you’re defending him.”

Adrian looks like he’s about to speak when Diane steps in front of him, as if shielding him. “Y/N, this is insane. You’re arresting him for murders? You’re destroying our family—again!”

Y/N snaps, emotion flooding into her voice, “Do you even hear yourself? Do you understand what’s happening right now?” She doesn’t want to raise her voice, but it’s like years of anger are bubbling to the surface. “He hurt me. He manipulated me, and now other women are dead because of him!”

Diane looks at Y/N with wide eyes, as if she can’t process what she’s hearing. “You’re lying,” she says quietly, her voice shaking. “You’re making this all up. You always blamed Adrian for everything—”

Y/N’s heart twists painfully in her chest. Even now, her mother doesn’t believe her. Derek’s jaw clenches as he steps forward, practically growling now. “She’s not lying. She’s been through enough, and it’s time you started listening to her instead of defending this monster.”

Adrian, sensing that things are slipping out of his control, sneers at Derek. “You don’t know anything about me.”

Derek’s eyes are sharp as he glares back, full of unspoken anger. “I know enough.”

Hotch steps in then, signaling Spencer, Rossi, and Prentiss. “We’re taking him in,” he says, his voice calm but decisive.

Diane stumbles backward as Morgan pulls Adrian’s arms behind his back to cuff him. “You can’t do this!” Diane cries out, her hands shaking as she reaches for Adrian.

“Ma’am I’m going to need you to step back,” Prentiss warns, her voice firm but not unkind.

Diane turns to Y/N, desperation in her eyes. “Please, Y/N. Don’t do this.”

Y/N’s throat tightens again, the pain almost unbearable as she looks at her mother. “I didn’t do this. He did.”

As they haul Adrian toward the door, Derek stays by Y/N’s side, his hand gently resting on her arm. He leans in, his voice softening just for her. “You alright?”

Y/N can barely nod. “I just… I need this to be over.”

Derek squeezes her arm gently, the tension between them unspoken but palpable. “We’ll make sure it is,” he says quietly. “He’s not gonna hurt you anymore.”

As Adrian is led out, Y/N watches him disappear through the door, the weight of everything she’s carried for so long finally starting to lift. Derek stays close, his protective presence like a shield around her.

“I should’ve seen this sooner,” Y/N whispers, her voice full of regret.

Derek looks at her, his eyes full of something deeper, something he hasn’t said yet. “This isn’t on you,” he says, his voice steady. “We’ve got him now.”

Y/N takes a deep breath, her heart pounding, but there’s a strange sense of relief starting to creep in. Maybe, finally, this part of her life is coming to an end.

₊‧ʚ ﹆・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱ🌿ᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

In the interrogation room, Adrian Cole lounges in his seat, his cocky smile never wavering as Hotch and Derek sit across from him. The fluorescent lights overhead cast a cold, sterile glow, but Adrian is undisturbed, clearly enjoying himself. His eyes flick between Hotch and Derek, and there’s something calculating in the way he looks at them, like he’s already planning his next move.

Hotch keeps his voice steady, professional. “Adrian, we know about your connection to the women in the support group. Candy Brown confirmed that you used to work for her, that you were asking questions about the survivors. You were studying them, weren’t you? Figuring out how to get close.”

Adrian leans back in his chair, chuckling lightly. “Questions? You mean me being polite? Curious, maybe? Come on, Agent, that’s hardly a crime.”

Derek’s jaw tightens, but he remains composed. “You fit the profile. We know you’ve been stalking these women. We know Y/N was your real target all along.”

Adrian’s smile grows wider, his eyes shifting to Derek. “Oh, Agent Morgan. I see why you’re here now.” He leans forward, the playful tone in his voice turning darker. “This isn’t about the profile, is it? It’s about her. You’re here because of Y/N.”

Derek’s gaze hardens, but he doesn’t take the bait. “I’m here because of what you did.”

“What I did?” Adrian raises an eyebrow, mockingly confused. “You mean what you think I did. You’re just mad because you know I got to her first.”

The air in the room seems to thicken with tension as Adrian watches Derek’s reaction, clearly enjoying the game he’s playing. Hotch tries to redirect. “This isn’t about Y/N. It’s about the six women you killed.”

But Adrian’s eyes stay locked on Derek. “Six women… sure, that’s bad. But you know what’s worse, Derek?” He leans forward, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Knowing she’ll never be yours. No matter what you do, no matter how hard you try to protect her, you’ll always be too late. You can’t fix what’s already broken.”

Derek clenches his fists under the table, the muscles in his jaw working as he forces himself to stay calm. Adrian’s words are cutting deep, hitting exactly where he intended.

“You’re wrong,” Derek growls, barely keeping his composure. “She’s stronger than you think. And you’ll never touch her again.”

Adrian’s smirk doesn’t falter. “Strong? Sure. Strong enough to get away from me last time. But the thing is, Derek… people like her? They always come back. It’s just a matter of time.”

Derek leans in, his voice deadly quiet. “You’ll rot in prison before you ever get that chance.”

Adrian sits back, casually crossing his arms over his chest, his grin widening. “We’ll see.”

Hotch, sensing Derek’s rising anger, stands up. “We’re done here.”

Derek hesitates for a split second, his eyes still locked on Adrian, but then he rises as well. Adrian chuckles lowly and his eyes follow Derek as he moves toward the door. “Leaving already, Derek?” Adrian’s voice drips with mockery. “Y/N must have told you everything by now. How she couldn’t resist, how much she used to like it when I—”

Derek spins back around, his anger breaking through for just a second. “You need to shut your mouth.”

Adrian’s smile only widens as he leans forward, reveling in Derek’s reaction. “Touched a nerve, did I? Guess it’s not just Y/N’s mind I wormed my way into, huh?”

Before Derek can step closer, Hotch holds out an arm, signaling him to back down. He knows Adrian is trying to bait Derek into losing control. “We’re leaving,” Hotch repeats firmly.

As soon as the door to the interrogation room shuts, Derek finally lets the anger show on his face. “That guy is a real piece of work,” he mutters under his breath. He paces, trying to rein in his emotions. Rossi, JJ, Prentiss, and Spencer are waiting, their expressions tense.

Hotch nods, his expression grim. “He knows how to manipulate, how to get under people’s skin. That’s why he’s dangerous. But we need a confession.”

Derek shoots him a look, his voice hard. “You’re not seriously thinking about sending Y/N in there.”

“She’s the only one he’ll talk to,” Hotch replies, his tone even, though there’s clear discomfort in his eyes. “He’s too focused on her. He won’t crack for us, but with her, he might.”

“She doesn’t need to be anywhere near that psycho,” Prentiss adds, backing Derek up.

Rossi nods, his arms crossed. “He’ll try to manipulate her, Hotch. He’ll push all her buttons. You know how dangerous that could be.”

Hotch looks around at the team, his face unreadable, but resolute. “He’s not going to talk to anyone else. Y/N’s the reason this is all happening—he’s fixated on her. If we want a confession, we need her.”

Derek is still pacing, shaking his head in frustration. “Hotch, you know what he’ll do. He’ll tear her apart mentally.”

“Derek…” Y/N’s voice cuts through the tension as she steps forward, her face calm but determined. “I need to do this.”

Derek looks at her, his expression a mix of frustration and concern. “No, Y/N. You don’t have to do this. Let someone else handle it.”

Y/N meets his gaze, her voice steady. “It has to be me. He won’t talk to anyone else, and you know it. I’m the one who has to end this.”

Derek runs a hand over his face, still conflicted, but he knows she’s right. He can see the resolve in her eyes, the same determination that’s been driving her since this case started. After a long moment, he nods, though it clearly kills him to do so. “Fine. But I’m right outside the door. The second you need me, I’m coming in.”

Y/N gives him a small, appreciative smile. “I know.”

With a final glance at the rest of the team, Y/N walks into the interrogation room. Adrian’s eyes light up the moment he sees her, his grin returning.

“Well, look who it is,” he says, leaning back in his chair like he’s just been handed a gift. “I knew you’d come.” His eyes flicker with amusement as he takes in her demeanor. She’s calm. No sign of fear on her face, making his fists clench. “You always were a clever girl, Y/N. Smart enough to know what you wanted but never strong enough to follow through. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? You think you’ve won.”

Y/N narrows her eyes. “I didn’t come here to win anything, Adrian. I came here to end this.”

He scoffs, leaning forward again, his tone dropping to a darker pitch. “End what? You think locking me up will change anything? You’ll still be thinking about me. You’ll always be connected to me. You and I, Y/N, we’re the same.”

Y/N’s lips curl into a tight smile. “That’s where you’re wrong. I’m not like you, Adrian. I’m stronger because I don’t need to control anyone to feel powerful. You? You’re nothing. You never were. You thought you had control over me, but really, you were just a pathetic coward trying to feel important.”

Adrian’s jaw tightens, but Y/N can see the flicker of anger behind his eyes. She presses on, her voice dropping to a cold, cutting tone.

“You couldn’t control me, Adrian. That’s why you went after those other women. You thought by killing them, you’d finally feel like you had power over something. But deep down, you knew the truth. You’re impotent. You can’t control anyone, least of all me.”

His hand twitches on the table, and his smirk falters. Y/N knows she’s hit a nerve.

“You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” Adrian hisses, his voice venomous. “You think you’re untouchable? I killed those women because they were weak! They were nothing compared to you! But I did it for you. Every one of them, Y/N! Every one was for you, to remind you of what I can do.”

His face twists with fury as he leans in, practically spitting the words now. “I did it because I knew it would bring you back to me. And guess what? It worked. You’re here. And when this is over, you’ll never forget me.”

Y/N doesn’t flinch, her eyes cold and unwavering as she meets his gaze. “You’re right about one thing, Adrian. I won’t forget you. But not because I’m scared or because you have any hold over me. I’ll remember you as the pathetic, cowardly man who couldn’t even face his own failures. You killed those women because you couldn’t handle the fact that I got away from you. That I beat you.”

Adrian’s face is red with rage now, his fists clenched as he glares at her. He’s lost his cool completely, no longer the charming manipulator he was trying to be. He’s exposed.

Y/N stands up slowly, looking down at him with calm, cold eyes. “You wanted me back in your life? Well, congratulations, Adrian. You’ve got a one-way ticket to prison, and the only time you’ll see me again is when you’re rotting behind bars.”

She leans in just a little, her voice dropping to a near whisper, her words like ice. “I won. You lost. And the worst part for you? You’ll spend the rest of your miserable life knowing I never belonged to you.”

Adrian’s face twists in a snarl, but he doesn’t say anything. Y/N doesn’t need him to. She’s already shattered his delusions.

As she turns to leave the room, she pauses in the doorway, glancing over her shoulder one last time. “Enjoy prison, Adrian. You’ll be surrounded by men just like you. Maybe they’ll remind you of what real powerlessness feels like.”

She walks out without looking back, leaving Adrian sitting there, fuming and defeated.

Outside, the team watches through the observation window. Derek’s eyes never leave Y/N as she steps into the hallway, her expression unreadable but victorious.

As soon as she’s out, Derek moves toward her, his voice low and full of quiet admiration. “You were incredible in there.”

Y/N gives him a small smile, but it’s bittersweet. “It’s over.”

Derek steps closer, his voice softening. “You did it, Y/N. You took him down.”

She nods, but before she can respond, her mother’s voice cuts through the moment. Diane, standing at the end of the hall, her eyes wide with shock and regret, had heard every word of Adrian’s confession.

“Y/N…” Diane’s voice trembles, her face pale as she takes a tentative step forward. “I didn’t know. I didn’t believe you and I’m—”

“Stop,” Y/N says, her voice sharp but not raised. She turns to face her mother, eyes hard. “I forgive you, Mom. But I’ll never forget what you did. Or didn’t do.”

Diane’s face crumples as she stares at her daughter, tears welling in her eyes. “Please, Y/N. I didn’t understand. I didn’t know how to—”

Y/N cuts her off again, shaking her head. “It’s too late. You had years to believe me. Years to help me. I’m done waiting for you to care.”

Diane reaches out, but Y/N takes a step back, her face unreadable. “Take care of yourself, Mom. I don’t need you anymore.”

With that, Y/N turns and walks away, the weight of years of pain finally lifted from her shoulders.

Derek watches her go, admiration and sadness flickering in his eyes. He catches up to her and without a word, pulls her into a tight embrace, holding her like he never wants to let go.

“You did good babygirl,” he murmurs into her hair, his voice thick with emotion. “You did real good.”

Y/N lets out a shaky breath, leaning into him. “It’s really over,” she whispers, and for the first time, she truly believes it.

₊‧ʚ ﹆・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱ🌿ᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

Y/N stood in her kitchen, stirring the lavender tea she had made for herself, hoping the soothing scent would calm her nerves after the intensity of the past few days. The warmth of the mug seeped into her hands as she glanced at the clock—it was late, and for the first time since they wrapped the case, she was alone. It was a rare, precious quiet. She wore her comfiest pair of sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt, her hair thrown into a messy bun as she padded over to the couch.

She sank into the cushions with a sigh, trying to let the exhaustion slip away. Just as she curled up, ready to embrace the quiet, a knock came at the door.

Her brow furrowed. Who could it be at this hour? A part of her tensed, but when she peeked through the peephole, her face softened.

Derek.

A smile immediately spread across her lips as she quickly unlocked the door and swung it open. "Derek," she said, warmth filling her voice. "What are you doing here?"

He stood there, dressed casually in jeans and a fitted t-shirt, but the warmth in his dark eyes was what made her heart flutter. He held a small box in his hands, the edges of a smile tugging at his lips.

“I couldn’t let you be alone after everything,” he said softly. “And... I brought you something.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, eyeing the box with curiosity. “Oh? And what’s that?”

Derek stepped forward, holding the box out to her. “Carrot cake. Figured you could use a little sweetness after the last few days.”

Y/N’s smile brightened, and she laughed softly, the tension of the case beginning to melt away. “You remembered it’s my favorite.”

“Of course I did. I remember everything about you,” he said, his voice low and teasing, but there was an underlying sincerity in his words.

She took the box from his hands, shaking her head in amusement. “I think I need something sweeter than carrot cake, though.”

Derek cocked an eyebrow, that signature smirk playing at his lips. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

Y/N met his gaze, her voice soft but playful. “You.”

The smirk on Derek’s face softened into something more tender as he watched her, his dark eyes flickering with a mixture of admiration and something deeper. “Is that right?”

She stepped aside, motioning for him to come in. “Come on, might as well share the cake if you’re here. I’m not letting you leave just yet.”

Derek chuckled as he stepped inside, glancing around her cozy apartment before his eyes landed back on her. “I wasn’t planning on going anywhere.”

They moved to the living room, and Y/N placed the cake on the coffee table, her heart lighter now that Derek was here. The weight of the last few days seemed to lessen in his presence.

“So,” Derek said as they sat together on the couch, their knees brushing. “How are you holding up?”

Y/N exhaled, leaning back against the cushions. “I’m... okay. Honestly, I’m better now that you’re here. But it’s been a lot. I didn’t think I’d ever have to face him again, let alone...”

She trailed off, and Derek reached out, placing his hand gently on top of hers. “You don’t have to explain. What you did back there? Y/N, you were incredible. You stood your ground. You faced him head-on, and you came out stronger.”

Y/N looked at him, her heart swelling at the tenderness in his voice. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” she said quietly. “You were right there the whole time, and knowing that... it made it easier.”

Derek’s hand slid up from hers, his fingers lightly brushing her cheek before he cupped the side of her face. His touch was warm, grounding. His voice lowered, filled with awe. “Y/N, I’ve always been in awe of you. Always. But after this... what you just went through? You’re the strongest woman I know.”

Her heart fluttered as his thumb softly stroked her cheek, his eyes searching hers. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the space between them charged with something unspoken but undeniably strong.

Y/N’s breath hitched slightly, and she let herself lean into his touch. “Derek...”

Before she could say more, Derek’s eyes flicked to her lips, and in a soft, almost tentative movement, he leaned in and kissed her. It was tender, a kiss filled with emotions that had been building for so long. Her hand found its way to his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath her palm as she kissed him back, letting the warmth of him pull her in.

When they pulled away, their foreheads rested together, and Y/N smiled softly. “That was...”

“Long overdue,” Derek finished for her, his lips brushing hers again in a whisper of a kiss before he pulled back slightly to look into her eyes. “You’re amazing, you know that? I’m proud of you. And I’m not just saying that because of this case. I’ve always been proud of you.”

Y/N’s chest tightened with emotion, and she bit her lip to keep her smile from spreading too wide. “You’ve always been my rock, Derek.”

“And you’ll always have me,” he said, his voice low and certain, like a promise.

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, Derek still holding her close, and Y/N couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace she hadn’t felt in days. She rested her head against his shoulder, her fingers still lightly touching his hand.

Derek wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer as they sank deeper into the couch. Neither of them felt the need to speak anymore, the warmth of their closeness enough.

Eventually, the exhaustion from the case caught up to them. Their breaths evened out as they lay together, bodies intertwined on the couch, the world outside fading away as sleep overtook them.

For the first time in days, Y/N finally felt at peace, knowing she was exactly where she was meant to be—in Derek’s arms, where everything just felt right.

[aarcanechaoss]

Family Matters

Masterlist

For anon ♡ - who should def write fic’s too … also you didn’t give me bubs name so I made one up.

A day for bonding?

No… scouting with the Armed Detective Agency. Some suspected ability user… whatever.

Ichiyo shoots Mori a glance- his response? A quick raise of his brow.

She can’t fucking go- she won’t and he knows it.

So she doesn’t.

~~*~~*~~*~~

Ranpo Edogawa is a brilliant man if he could say so himself.

Smart, amazing, praiseworthy really… so he couldn’t help himself when he commented on Higuchi’s absence. Not just that but how antsy she had been to not go- like she’d had some wonderous plan that couldn’t be delayed. He didn’t care… no but the small bag of sweets she’d just shoved into her pocket had piqued his interest.

And she was wearing casual clothes… interesting.

Their current scouting was boring him to no end- so why not scout something else.

“Hey look it’s Higuchi.” He said casually, pointing across the road as she walked into the nearby park.

Surprisingly its Akutagawa’s head that snaps that way first, granted with a frown etched on his features. Though that was followed by quickly by Tachihara and Dazai, the later looking particularly intrigued.

Deciding he’d had enough stalking the American man sat in a pub down the way Ranpo- without a word- crosses the street.

This would certainly be more interesting.

~~*~~

“Hello sweetheart.” Ichiyo knelt on the picnic blanket, arms spread wide as a small body collided with hers. Tufts of black hair loose and wild tickling her nose.

“Mum!” Her arms wrapped around Ichiyo’s neck tight. “Mum, let’s play!”

“You sure you don’t want to see what I bought first?”

“I sure do.” Her younger sister poked her tongue out. Ichiyo rolled her eyes, pulling a small bag of sweets from her pocket.

“Because you are a sweet treat I bought you a sweet treat.” The four year old’s face lit up like a lightbulb in excitement but she didn’t let go of her mother. “Want to play first?”

“Hmm.” She pursed her lips in thought. “Can I try one?”

“Yes Mai.” Ichiyo ruffled the girl’s hair as she opened the bag. Mai shoved in a hand, pulling out a Konpeitō. “Be careful.”

“Yes mum… it’s so sweet.” She giggled.

“Just like you.” Ichiyo’s sister snickered. “Hand me one too Chiyo.”

“Ask nicely.”

“Please.” She rolled her eyes, passing her the bag too.

“Can we play now?” Mai pouted.

“What am I today?” Ichiyo grinned.

“Ummm.” Mai pressed a finger into her cheek as if thinking. She shot her mother and aunt a grin before pointing to Ichiyo. “A dragon!”

“A dragon? What about Auntie?”

“A knight and I’m the princess!”

~~*~~

It hadn’t taken long before all of their group bonding ended up across the road with Ranpo- who had found himself a shady spot far enough away that Higuchi hadn’t noticed a thing.

“Is that a kid?” Yosano had asked.

“Seems so.” Kunikida had hummed. “Perhaps she is the woman beside hers-”

“Nah that’s Big Sis’ little sister.” Tachihara said with a shrug. The group turned his way, questioning on their faces. “What? I live near a high school- I’ve seen Big Sis walk her there and asked her one time. I dunno her name though just that she’s Kyoka’s age.”

“Not to sound out of line.” Atsushi began.

“What?” Akutagawa grunted. “Spit it out.”

“I would if you would shut up.” Atsushi spat back. “Anyway… the girl looks like Higuchi.”

“So you are saying…” The Rashomon user’s mouth clicked shut at the elated giggle that echoed across the park. Higuchi was spinning the girl in the air.

“By my deduction.” Ranpo began. “That’s her daughter.”

“We can’t make assumptions Ranpo.” Kunikida berated.

“I don’t think just anyone would give kids hugs and kisses like that.” The Detective countered, pointing towards the group.

Ichiyo was pressing kisses to the girl’s cheeks, hugging her so tight it looked impossible to escape. The girl was laughing, happy to be held in Ichiyo’s arms… the group looked on fondly.

“I think we should leave now.” Hirotsu stated, turning on his heel. “Let her have family time.”

“I agree.” The ADA members chimed in, even Dazai was turning on his heel. The rest of the Black Lizard paused for a moment longer, noting how normal it was… a family.

Gin and Ryunosuke shared a look, a knowing look… family was precious no matter how it came about.

[the-desolated-quill]

Rewatching Elementary, one of the things I absolutely love is how it recontextulises the Sherlock Holmes canon. Take the second episode of Season 1. Attic theory is brought up. That Sherlock’s brain is like an attic that has a limited amount of space, and therefore must only be filled with useful facts that will help his deductions. It’s one of the more famous quotes from the Sherlock books. It’s also, scientifically speaking, utter bollocks. So naturally the BBC show just copied it verbatim because it was written by two morons who think smart people are indistinguishable from wizards. At least Arthur Conan Doyle had the excuse that he lived in the 1800s. They still believed in fairies for God sake. But Elementary was different. Elementary was written by good writers. Writers that respect the audience’s intelligence.

So how does Elementary handle it? Sherlock mentions his attic theory. Watson, being a woman of science, laughs it off because it sounds stupid. Then as the episode goes along, we learn more about Sherlock and discover the real reason for why he doesn’t have close relationships with people and buries himself in his work. He’s punishing himself for his addiction, and using attic theory as an excuse to justify it, claiming it makes him a better detective, when in truth it’s because he feels he doesn’t deserve to be happy. That the only value he possibly has is as an investigator and nothing else. It’s deeply sad and, speaking from my own personal experience, completely relatable.

The second episode of a show is often more important than the pilot because it provides an indication of what the show will be like going forward. In Elementary, it indicates the show will be about an intelligent, but broken man learning to open up to people. That labelling the great Sherlock Holmes as a super-genius is actually detrimental to his character and self esteem. That he can be so much more than just a detective, but also a mentor and a friend. And when he starts playing the violin again at the end of the episode, it indicates that, with time and patience, one day he can actually be happy.

[mcrcuryssin]

Do you ever think everyone compares Dazai’s lifestyle to theirs? No one can fundamentally understand what goes through Dazai’s head, because it’s so out of bound of what socially accepted. But his deduction & intuition is nearly remarkable, perfected because of insecurities of not being smart. It makes Dazai admired & people desire his attention, whether it be approval or the desire for him to be on their side. This makes Dazai feel worthless & angry. He has no actual desires or morals or desire to live, besides to be a pawn for others’ self-esteems, for other’s goals, to further others’ purpose of life. It makes him hate everyone, himself included. He can’t seem to get out of this damn cycle of inevitable truth of life. Dazai doesn’t know why he can’t be normal. That’s all he wants, normality. But it feels nearly impossible to change those feelings, because how can a beast be a beauty. So he tries to hide it, mask the boring Dazai no one wants to see. If no one is going to care about him, he can, at least, amuse himself.

[tendouluvr]

not telling them you’re pregnant - f!reader

- fluff, sliiiight angst maybe

- characters: suna, sakusa, semi

- warnings: pregnancy (i don’t go into detail of giving birth or anything), cravings, morning sickness aka throwing up, two mention of the act of sex in semi’s, some cursing

- wc: 1.4k, 888, 946

a/n: it’s f!reader cuz pregnancy but there’s no specific pronouns/gendered terms used

also idk how suna got so long, he was the last one i wrote for bc i couldnt think of anything lmao

[2. iwaizumi, atsumu, kageyama]

SUNA

#! suna has been practicing late into the night the past few weeks

#! there’s a big game coming up and the entire team is feeling the pressure and adrenaline from the crunch time

#! you haven’t been feeling too good lately, a lot heavier and more tired than usual

#! thinking it was just stress from work and the missing presence of your boyfriend, you pushed through it and thought it would go away in the next few days

#! unfortunately, luck wasn’t on your side and you started to get sudden needs to throw up

#! it didn’t take you long to realize why your physical and mental drive have been down lately

#! you’re pregnant

#! or you believe you are

#! you bought a few tests, some of different brands so you can have a variety, and headed home to confirm your suspicion

#! a few minutes later, staring back at you was multiple positive symbols and the bolded ‘PREGNANT’s

#! taking a few deep breaths, you decided to tell suna tonight once he comes home

#! you thought it was better to let him know as soon as possible

#! it wouldn’t hurt anyone plus the faster you rip the bandaid off, the easier it’ll be to deal with it

#! so you waited

#! and waited

#! until 11pm that night, when suna finally came through the front door

#! “tarō! how was practice? can we talk?” you hurriedly greeted him

#! he was taken aback, not expecting you to be right beside him and in his ear as soon as he came in

#! of course you weren’t, you made sure to put some space in between you and him

#! but suna was stressed and tired, so everything is intensified to him at the moment

#! “can you back up?” he mumbled, pushing his way from in front of you to walk to the kitchen

#! “oh, sorry. can we talk?” you sheepishly smiled, hoping he would say yes

#! you’re not blind, you can tell that suna was tired but you really didn’t wanna put this off

#! you were just gonna tell him, he gets surprised, you both talk it out, and then go to bed and continue figuring things out tomorrow morning

#! but before any of that can happen, suna bluntly told you, “no. i’m tired. i’m sure whatever it is isn’t a big deal. can it be tomorrow? i wanna sleep.”

#! you didn’t get to answer before he was already walking away to the bedroom

#! understanding where he was coming from, you mentally agreed to talk to him tomorrow. one day wouldn’t change anything and you’ve seen plenty of people not tell their partners until a few weeks in

#! he was right, it wasn’t a big deal (yet)

#! so you waited until tomorrow

#! and waited

#! and once again, he came home late

#! “hey! can we quickly talk, babe?”

#! “i’m tired. tomorrow, okay?”

#! “oh, okay. night, rin!”

#! “g’night.”

#! night came and there was still no talk

#! this continued on for about 2 weeks, you finally choosing to not care anymore and just let him find out whenever he finds out

#! technically, you could’ve just blurted out a simple, “i’m pregnant.” any point during your nightly five seconds conversations

#! but seeing that he really was tired, springing it onto him would either put him in a full body shock for three days or he just doesn’t fully process your words until three days after

#! a month has passed, your stomach was still barely showing like most women at their one month mark

#! you decided to book an appointment for a checkup, it’ll be while suna’s at practice

#! and that doctor appointment was the exact reason suna found out

#! he was at practice when komori entered the gym

#! he had a doctor’s appointment for his annual checkup, and that’s where he saw you

#! you didn’t see komori, busy reading the directory to find your way to the right office

#! but he saw you on the way out. seeing that you looked a bit busy, he chose not to greet you and just quickly walk to his car lmao why is this funny to me

#! entering the gym, he greeted everyone and apologized for his tardiness even though it was excused

#! walking up to suna, he tapped him on the shoulder and quietly told him, “i saw yn at the hospital earlier. it’s been awhile since we all got together huh, they looked a bit different.”

#! ok so komori, being the smart person he is, deducted that you were pregnant when he saw your finger pointing at the ob/gyn office

#! and he genuinely thought suna knew so his comment was suppose to be a small joke that was meant to tease suna and his sex life

#! suna, however, was confused

#! look different? did you get surgery?

#! “what do you mean?”

#! komori rolled his eyes and gave a sweet smile at suna, “congrats you two! when were you gonna tell the rest of us?”

#! suna: 👨‍🦲 huh

#! “are you guys not pregnant?” he blinked at suna’s frozen reaction

#! suna became unresponsive so komori just walked away mumbling to himself about being sure he read the sign right

#! a loud whistle blew and it shook suna out of his daze, everyone got ready to play a practice game of 3 vs 3 while suna ran over to the coach

#! “hey coach, um i think there’s an emergency at home. can i go? ok thanks.”

#! his coach just stares after him as he sprints off, you think? is there an emergency or not?

#! suna quickly drove home, he may or may not have speed a little, and entered the apartment

#! “yn? baby?” he called out only to be greeted back with silence

#! probably still at the hospital....what were you doing there? he thought to himself while rummaging around the house to find anything that could give him somewhat of an idea

#! he was digging around in the bedroom when you came home, his head so frenzied he didn’t hear the front door open

#! but you heard the ruckus from the bedroom and immediately went into fight or flight

#! panicking, you took out your phone to call suna while quietly opening the front door to make your way back out before the intruder catches you

#! the phone rang and rang until it was picked up. “suna?” you whisper-yelled into the speaker. you had a habit of calling him by his last name when you were freaking out. he noticed and was equally alarmed

#! “what’s wrong?” he whispered back just as panicked

#! “there’s someone in our apartment. can you come home?”

#! “huh? oh, are you home?” he cackles into the phone speaker making you move the phone away from your ear, “it’s me, sweets, c’mere.”

#! you warily walked on your tiptoes over to your bedroom, peeking your head in and what a surprise, it is suna

#! “jackass! why are you home?!”

#! “why didn’t you tell me?” he cut straight to the point

#! “huh?”

#! “you’re pregnant. when were you gonna tell me?” his voice sounding stern, but the quiet smile dancing on his face tells a different story

#! “i tried.”

#! “huh? what do you mean?”

#! “all those times i asked if we could talk. i was trying to tell you.”

#! his heart dropped, eyebrows furrowing, while he stared you down

#! suna became unresponsive once again, standing there trying to think back to the first time you asked him

#! two weeks ago

#! “i’m sorry,” he quietly whispers

#! “hm? i..it’s fine....i was a bit sad, but i’m over it. at least you know now,” you casually shrugged it off like it wasn’t a big deal

#! “no. i shouldn’t have pushed you aside like that. even if you weren’t pregnant, even if you had just wanted to tell me about some stupid video you saw that day, i shouldn’t have told you off. i’m sorry, i love you a lot and you deserve so much better.”

#! “tarō, shut up. i accept your apology and i forgive you, now make it up to me by giving me a back massage while i show you the ultrasound pictures!”

#! he kisses you before lifting you up bridal style making his way to the bed

SAKUSA

#! contrary to popular beliefs, sakusa is not an obsessive germaphobe who finds everything disgusting but you

#! he wouldn’t be playing volleyball if he was that afraid of germs,,,,,

#! yes, he cringes if random little kids grab onto him after games because 1) he’s drenched in sweat and that feeling is not fun

#! 2) he doesn’t even know themmm

#! and 3) he wanna go home

#! but sakusa loves you and if you happened to get pregnant, he would love your kid(s) just the same

#! however, he never told you this. he never really had a reason to voice this out loud

#! so when you actually did get pregnant, you were confused

#! the only interactions between sakusa and kids you’ve seen multiple times were the moments between him and his fans

#! you guys have been to family parties and his nieces, nephews, and cousins looooves him

#! maybe it’s the fact that he’s a tall looming giant and they just want to climb

#! but besides those moments, you don’t recall him ever telling you upfront that he wants children of his own

#! and the constant stress and pressure he always seem to be working around also doesn’t help reassure you in any way

#! being an athlete for a living means always watching your body, health, and looks for the cameras (but omi could care less about the last thing)

#! he also has to make sure whether or not he’s working well with his teammates, practice and improve on anything he’s having problems with, and deal with atsumu’s dramatic ass

#! you’re an overthinker and because of that, all of these reasons were just reasons for you to postpone the pregnancy news to your long term boyfriend

#! it wasn’t too hard anyway, considering practice runs late sometimes and he’s busy majority of the time doing other stuff

#! when you guys do have alone time together, you both are so focused on one another that you actually forget that you’re pregnant and you never told him

#! you’re about to hit the three months mark now — time goes by fast — and sakusa has noticed you and your body changing

#! at first he just thought you were going through a phase of cravings and a bit of bloating, so he didn’t mention it and just let you be

#! he never got to witness you getting morning sickness because he goes on early runs or he was just out doing morning errands so he wouldn’t have to deal with it later that day

#! so when he caught you in the kitchen cutting up a lemon, the last thing he was expecting you to do was bring the lemon directly up to your mouth

#! “uh, what are you doing?” his deep voice caught you off guard, effectively stopping the hand that was holding the lemon

#! you just stare at him, not wide-eyed, not surprised, just stare

#! “eating a lemon.”

#! “i can see that.... why exactly?”

#! “dunno, the baby i guess.” you casually shrugged it off before popping the lemon slice into your mouth

#! “ah-,” he opened his mouth to stop you from eating the lemon, your words not fully processing in his mind, but cut off midway and froze when he finally realized

#! hearing him pause like that made you suddenly remembered that you never told him you were pregnant

#! you slowly turned back to look at him, mouth still slowly chewing the lemon slices

#! a moment of silence later, he unfreezes and just starts stiffly walking towards you

#! he grabbed you by the shoulders, made you look him in the eyes, before whispering, “you’re pregnant?!”

#! “y-yes..”

#! his eyes were wide, black pupils expanding as he stared you down, his lips slowly curving into a small smile

#! “you’re pregnant....,” he whispers, mainly to himself, hugging your head into his chest

#! “mhm, get off me i’m trying to eat,” you gently pushed him off but he wouldn’t budge

#! “omiiii please, if you get off i’ll give you a slice,” you tried bribing him. he couldn’t tell if you were being serious or just teasing

#! “no.”

#! “um ok, two slices?”

#! “no.”

#! “omi!”

#! he giggles before opening his arms to let you go

#! “why didn’t you tell me?”

#! you didn’t reply right away, making him start to overthink

#! did you not want the baby? or did you not want a kid with him? did you not want to be with him anymore? or was it not his?!

#! he childishly shakes his head side to side at the last question. he knew you wouldn’t do that

#! but you were still silent, making him nervously glance at you from the side

#! “sorry, piece of lemon stuck in my teeth. i just forgot to tell you,” the words easily flowing out of your mouth nonchalantly

#! sakusa’s fingers were literally about to start twitching from anxiousness beside you

#! a sigh of relief was heard from him and you turned to look at him

#! “you okay?”

#! he doesn’t answer, just gives you a smile and goes back to hugging you from behind

SEMI

#! you were currently sitting on the couch in your shared apartment waiting for semi to come home

#! he’s been on tour for a few months now, you both kept in touch by facetiming, texting, calling, and any other methods of virtual communication

#! you would tune into the live recording of all of his performances when you had time so you could watch him

#! a few weeks into tour, you suddenly felt different than usual but shook it off as nothing and probably just you missing your boyfriend

#! you believed that until one morning you were woken up by the sudden urge to throw up, dashing to the restroom as fast as your drowsy body can go

#! it was then that you realized you might be pregnant

#! the night before semi left, you both had sex to enjoy your last few hours together before he had to leave for a few months

#! with the new realization, you quickly dressed yourself to make a short trip to the store to pick up some tests

#! after half an hour of looking at yourself in the mirror, trying to wrap your head around this, you finally opened the first box

#! a few minutes later, all 5 tests were lined up on the bathroom counter showing positive

#! you stared at the tests, trying to make sure you weren’t reading it wrong

#! once you began to understand the responsibility of being pregnant a few hours later, you made a mental note to go out and buy some food for yourself the next day

#! you decided to sleep off the rest of that day

#! through all of the facetime calls with semi, you never once told him you were pregnant

#! you knew that if you told him he would freak out and either demand to go back home, or stay but all of his attention would be on you being pregnant alone at home for the rest of the tour

#! so here you are now, sitting with a 4 1/2 months baby bump waiting for your beloved to come home

#! it was around 6pm when the front door opened, sounds of shuffling bags and heavy steps could be heard from the musician

#! he cursed under his breath when he almost tripped over a duffle bag with some of his loungewear, calling out for you as he walks further into the apartment, “baby? i’m home!”

#! he was about to speak up again when he saw you asleep on the couch

#! bouncing his way over, he got onto his knees at the edge of the couch to observe your face. god i miss you, he thought to himself

#! he gently shakes you awake, you jolted in surprise not knowing you fell asleep in the first place

#! “hmm- what?,” soft murmurs falling from your lips as you adjusted your eyes at your surrounding

#! “eita!” he grinned at you, both of you pulling each other into a hug

#! “fuck, i miss you so much.” he whispered into your ears before placing his face into your neck

#! “i miss you more.” you tightened your grip around him making him move up on the couch to get more comfortable

#! you both moved around until he had you cradled in between him, your back against his chest

#! his hands going under your his shirt to caress you there when his movements stopped right on top of your stomach

#! it was silent as his warm hands rubbed your stomach in circles, the gears turning in his head

#! “are you- you feel- why’s your tum so round and hard?” he quizzically asked, still rubbing your stomach

#! “pregnant.” your voice a low whisper, he almost didn’t catch it

#! “what?”

#! “pregnant.” you repeated, a bit louder this time

#! “huh?”

#! “pregnant!” you sighed, moving his hand so you can get off of him

#! he grabs your wrist to stop you from walking away and turns you to look at him

#! “you’re pregnant?!”

#! “i just said that. yes.”

#! you knew you sounded blunt and a bit mean, it wasn’t his fault he doesn’t know at all, but your hormones have been making you crankier and it’s out of your control

#! “sorry. yes, i’m pregnant.”

#! his eyes continuously darts up and down from your eyes to your bump

#! “how long?”

#! “since you left.”

#! “was it the night before?” he was referring to your act of intimacy the night before he left

#! “yea.”

#! “wow. why didn’t you tell me?”

#! “because.”

#! “‘cuz what?”

#! “because i know you. you would either stop touring and come home, or stay but lose focus. i was just trying to not distract you because i know how important your career is to you. and because i thought that you’ll be having a six months break after this tour before your next comeback, i would tell you when you came home. i’m sorry if you’re ma-,”

#! “i’m not mad. oh don’t cry, babe, look at me.”he carefully cups your face, “it’s okay, it’s okay. i get why you kept it from me. and now that i have no schedule for the next six months, i can be there for you until the end of your pregnancy and the beginning of our baby’s life alright?”

#! you weakly nodded against his palms, and he brings you back down to lay your head on his chest as you both softly talk about the past months without each other

[fandomlit]

neutral, chap. 4 (dream smp x reader)

series summary (in game!au) when an exiled tommy finally rebels against a manipulative dream, he finds safety in neutral territory, a place owned and guarded by you. staying in your safe haven opens up the younger one’s eyes to your way of life, while also revealing your deeper past before neutral; a past that involved a war for your love.

chapter summary after waking from a taunting nightmare, tommy expels some late night energy on some wandering mobs. you give him another lesson about taking care of himself, even when working hard, and tommy asks if you’ll teach him archery, which, of course, doesn’t go without entertainment.

warnings nightmares, mob killing

previous | series masterlist | next

gif cred belongs to @halcyoncraft

he was running again. he didn’t know where or from what, but his legs carried him far and strongly, weaving him through trees and grass and other obstacles along the way. he didn’t know how in danger he was, but he wasn’t going to stop and find out.

then he tripped.

when he flipped onto his back, it was that goddamn mask staring down at him, the lips just under it laughing, “you’re so weak, tommy! did you do anything while you were in neutral?” then his axe came down and tommy braced himself for the pain and release of death.

he woke up instead.

sweating under his covers, tommy sucked in a harsh breath as he sat up. he threw the soft cotton off of him, running a warm hand down his face. it was just a dream; he was safe in neutral.

looking out of the window next to him, he saw the moon still high in the sky, casting a cool light into his bedroom. dream’s words rang through his head like a bell, and he rubbed at his temples with a sigh. was he actually getting weak? was relaxing such a bad thing? at the very least, some part of him must have thought so to conjure a nightmare like that..

with another sigh, tommy lifted himself out of bed and flipped open the ender chest. he drew out his sword before heading to the main floor of the house.

when he reached the bottom of the stairs, a voice called out to him, “tommy?” his heart nearly stopped for a moment, before peeking into the kitchen and realizing it was just y/n. she sat in candlelight, writing in a small journal with a slice of half-eaten pumpkin pie next to her. “are you alright?”

“yeah,” he breathed, his voice still heavy with sleep. “just gonna go kill some mobs.”

she nodded. she looked tired, and a part of tommy felt bad knowing that she was most definitely going to wait for him to return. “okay. have at it, kid.”

he nodded, turning to leave the kitchen. before he did so, he pursed his lips and looked over his shoulder to y/n. “you should go to bed.”

she gave him a smile, scribbling something down in the small journal. “i will, tommy. just gotta finish this up..” his natural curiosity was drawn to the small book, and he almost asked y/n what she was writing. but then dream’s voice rang through his mind again, and tommy silently headed for the doors of the house.

the night air was refreshing on his warm skin, cool and still as the moon illuminated the frontal beauty of neutral territory. he took a deep, calming breath of that crisp air before focusing on the task at hand: proving to himself that dream was wrong. that dream is always wrong.

after about twenty zombies, ten spiders, countless creepers, and a few endermen, tommy finally felt the burn in his arms become nearly too much to bear. he panted as he struck down one last spider, turning and finally deciding to return back to the comfort of y/n’s home.

he sheathed his sword when he finally entered the house, going straight to the kitchen to see that y/n was still awake and writing in her small journal.

“ready to go to bed?” he asked gruffly.

she looked up slowly before nodding, placing her quill down and capping her ink. “any trouble out there?”

“no,” he spoke, shaking his head. “wrote everything you needed to?” y/n blew out her candle and went to join the boy in the doorway to the kitchen.

“as much as i could, anyway,” she shrugged, smiling lazily as they began to walk toward the stairs. “what was your nightmare about?”

tommy was slightly startled, but a little too tired to react drastically to y/n’s deduction. “how’d you know i had a nightmare?”

“i’ve had them before,” she said simply. “and it seemed natural that you’d expel some energy onto mobs after such a thing.”

“you’re smart,” tommy credited.

“thank you,” y/n yawned.

they continued to climb the stairs in silence as tommy considered his words. “i was being hunted by dream again, but this time you weren’t there to save me. he called me weak and killed me.”

“so you wanted to prove to yourself that despite allowing yourself peace, you didn’t have to sacrifice your strength to get there,” y/n summed.

the boy half-smiled. she was spot on, as always. “exactly,” tommy breathed. 

y/n was silent for a moment as she thought. they stopped at the hallway to tommy’s room and it then occurred to tommy’s tired mind that her room was downstairs; she was walking with him because she cared about him. 

“honestly, tommy, if this is a real concern for you, then there is no harm in taking time out of your day to work out and train,” y/n spoke. “but the most important thing is to recognize when enough is enough, and when enough becomes too much. you’ve allowed yourself peace and care for the last two weeks, and achieving such a state doesn’t mean you have to sacrifice fighting or training; it just means that you need to be more aware and in tune with yourself as you’re doing it.” tommy nodded.

“don’t overwork yourself, is the summary here,” she said, picking a cobweb off of his shirt. “let yourself do the things you want, but make sure it’s not wearing you down. that’s taking care of yourself.”

“alright,” tommy spoke quietly. “thank you, y/n.”

“of course, kid,” she smiled. “get some sleep, alright? if you have another nightmare you’re free to bother me.” tommy nodded again. “good night, tommy.”

“good night, y/n,” he yawned as she turned to head down to her room. he made sure he heard her door shut before finally heading to his own room.

...

“can you teach me archery?” tommy questioned the next morning at breakfast. it was a question that had bugged him since y/n had first revealed her skills just a few days prior, and since he was going to start training, he figured that might be a good place to start.

“sure,” she chuckled as she scooped some more fruit onto his nearly half-eaten plate of french toast.

“why the laugh?” he questioned through a mouthful of berries.

she shrugged to herself. “your curiosity is showing.”

“i’ve been wondering about it since you took out the mob,” tommy admitted. “if i want to get stronger.. i think this is a good way to.”

“perfecting a skill is the perfect way to get stronger,” y/n voiced. “of course i’ll teach you, kid.” she smiled and he turned back to his breakfast with his own grin. “finish up your food and meet me in the basement; we gotta get you a bow first.”

tommy hadn’t been in the basement of the house yet. he opened the heavy, dusty trapdoor and assumed y/n didn’t go down their often either. he slid down the ladder easily and was immediately hit with heat.

y/n had a welding station upstairs in her shop area, but the basement had a more broad and intense version of that area. several anvils, all cracked and rusted and adorned with different materials were scattered in a sort of pattern amongst the space, a fire burning high in a fireplace at the far side of the room. seeing no sign of y/n, tommy moved to the room to his left.

the next room held a large nether portal, as well as a small farm for netherwart. the dark room felt empty to him, and he had to remind himself that he was in fact in y/n’s house still. he remembered she had said that she didn’t like going to the nether.

“i’m in here, tommy!” she called out. he took another left into a small storage room, where y/n was rustling through a chest. “how tall are you, kid?”

“6’1”,” he answered.

y/n smiled. “you’re a lot taller than i’ll ever be.” she took out a pretty oak bow, slightly scratched and obviously old. “you’ll have to use this for now, until i can make you one that’s your size.” he took the bow from her hands, shrugging.

“it’s fine.”

“good,” she hummed, still shuffling through the chest as tommy took the time to look around the small room.

“what’re the dispensers for?” tommy asked, staring at the wall that held the three stone tools.

“im nothing if not prepared, tommy,” y/n spoke as she took out a quiver and began to fill it with arrows for him. “in case of emergency, those dispensers will set off flares to let others know that im in trouble or that neutral is in danger.”

tommy nodded, still looking at the obviously unused dispensers. “smart.”

“i hope so,” she sighed, handing him the quiver of arrows. he strapped it around himself as she continued, “let’s just hope i never have to use them, yeah?”

“yeah,” he chuckled. she gave him a smile, hoisting her bow higher in her grip.

“you ready to shoot some things?”

...

“relax your shoulders,” y/n reminded. tommy did so, his fingers still white with effort against the taut string of the bow. “don’t pull so hard, tommy. you’re shaking.” he sighed as he let the string and arrow go limp, lowering his bow as y/n approached him closer.

it was his second day of archery training, and he was still missing nearly every target. y/n was a calm and collected teacher, offering him advice that was pointed directly for him and reassured him that there was no rush in the learning process. but after missing fifteen or so shots in a row, tommy was getting frustrated.

and it didn’t help with sapnap and george staring at him through the kitchen windows.

“doin’ great, kid,” sapnap encouraged weakly, taking a drink of the lemonade y/n had lovingly prepared for the boys. just watching the older man sip made tommy’s mouth dry, but he was determined to make five shots in a row before taking a break.

tommy glared at the man before turning his gaze back to his mentor. “ignore him, tommy,” y/n spoke gently. “nick couldn’t hit a target if it was three paces away.”

“that’s a lie!”

“im kidding,” y/n laughed, placing a hand on tommy’s shoulder and turning him away from the distraction that was sapnap. “but seriously, there’s almost always going to be someone watching when you shoot. the more you can tune them out, the better. just focus on your aim--and make sure your grip is looser. you’re gonna snap that string in no time otherwise.”

“loose grip, focus on aim,” tommy breathed and she patted his shoulder as he turned back to the target ahead of him. he hoisted the bow up slowly and pulled the string back just enough that it wasn’t fully taut. he made sure his aim was a little higher than his target, and released the whizzing arrow. the arrow pierced just outside of the center ring.

“perfect,” y/n smiled. “now, do it again.” and he did, taking another deep breath and allowing himself to focus in on the feel of the rough wood on his fingertips, and the tight string he was pulling. the arrow hit just beside his last. she nodded encouragingly. “keep going.”

tommy could feel his heart start to thump in his chest from the excitement of his accurate aim. he took another calming breath and watched as the arrow lodged closer to the center.

“great aim,” she complimented and he grinned as he pulled another one back, trying to contain his shaking as he aimed. the arrow shot lower than his previous, but on the target nonetheless. “still a good shot. one more?”

“yeah,” tommy nodded, licking his dry lips as he retrieved another arrow from his quiver. heart still thumping with utter excitement and pride at y/n complimentary words, he quickly released the arrow and his smile dropped as the arrow lodged into the ground before the target.

“hey, that’s fine!” y/n assured as tommy groaned and dropped his head. “four in a row is an amazing improvement, tommy. you should take a break and reward yourself.”

tommy sighed, looking to the shameful arrow. “yeah. alright.” he dropped the bow to the ground along with his quiver. he looked to his slightly splintered fingers. “im gonna go.. wash up.”

“alright,” y/n smiled as tommy scampered away. she entered into the open kitchen, smiling at her guests. “you boys doing alright?”

they nodded. “when did you take up parenting, y/n?” george giggled. she rolled her eyes as she went to pour her and tommy their own glasses of lemonade. “no, seriously! you care for that kid a lot, it-it’s not a bad thing!”

she sighed, leaning against her counter as she sipped at her lemonade. “i know you two haven’t always agreed with him in the past, but i think tommy’s a good kid. i like his ethic, and i think he has a lot of potential. but that being said..” she shook her head. “he’s so young.” the boys nodded. “he’s been thrown into such a life of chaos and destruction, and im not saying he’s at all innocent, but.. i think it’s good for him to learn that there’s more to this world than just war and enemies. there’s...”

“neutral,” sapnap finished for her. she let out a laugh.

“yeah, neutral,” she agreed, tapping her fingers against her cold glass. “but, yeah, if teaching him peace and self care is motherly of me..” she shrugged. “then i guess im alright with being a parent.”

“that’s sweet,” sapnap nodded. “i hate it.” the three of them laughed, y/n laying a light slap on the man’s arm before tommy’s voice called out to her.

“y/n! can i have some help?”

“im coming!” she called back, setting down her glass of lemonade.

“go help your poor son,” george teased, resting his head in his hand as he gazed at y/n amusedly. she rolled her eyes.

“behave, you two,” she laughed before leaving the kitchen.

there was a moment of silence before george spoke, “i do think it’s quite sweet how y/n’s taken tommy in. i think it’s good for both of them.”

“you say that now,” sapnap sighed, leaning back in his chair. “but just wait until tommy’s back to feeling 100% and y/n’s going around saying “pog” all the time.”

tag list!! @vanhakirja @victory-is-here @inkyynki @airiour @sylum @kiritokunuwu @221bee-slytherin @bllatrixcarpnter @soullesstaco @stxrryb1tch @amibismexy @keiarma @akaichi-blog @runningoffofcaffeine @nonetookind @aquilla-favonia @feverish-dove @izuruamme @weeb-bb @bialin @justachillbisexual @kiritokunuwu @natalie-is-a-wall comment below or message me if you would like to be added <3

[jiminrings]

yoongi grills stem koo’s ass <3

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

stem koo wants to explain himself and yoongi may not want to listen

"hyeji's never packed you a sandwich before?"

jungkook pales at the mention, mouth drying when he sees yoongi bring up the soft smile that doesn't comfort him at all

“the one that’s all knuckle?”

oh my god

IS THIS A RIDDLE????

yoongi tilts his head in amusement when this pathetic excuse for your past crush is calculating what he just said in his mind

what is a sandwich that’s all knuckle?? but it doesn’t even rhyme!!

aren’t riddles sUPPOSED to rhyme????

jungkook’s more than well-versed in stem-related problems that are just rephrased 237 times over and over so that it wouldn’t be as easy to solve

he can solve that!!!

but this!!! :O his mind is short-circuiting pls do not approach him

“hm?” yoongi’s smile patronizes him further and puts him on the spot, straightening his figure and jungkook’s quick to stop him from coming back inside your dorm

“i want to-“

“i asked you — have you ever had a knuckle sandwich?”

yoongi enunciates with so much clarity that kook finds his mind blanking, tripping over his words he hasn’t even formed yet

“i-is it-...” he stalls, trying to rack his mind for the bread he’s not sure he’s ever even heard of in his life, “i-is it like, a pork thing? uhm, t-the pig’s knuckle? and then you put it between, uhm, bread?”

,,,, laughable

jungkook’s supposed to be smart, isn’t he? or atleast that’s what yoongi thinks he’s supposed to be

lmao he would’ve laughed at the boy’s poor attempts if only he wasn’t furious at him

he’s dumb but not the endearing kind ://

“no,” yoongi drawls out, pretending to fish something out from his pocket

jungkook watches in intrigue, thinking that yoongi’s reaching for his phone to show him a picture of what it looks like

the hypothetical situation in jungkook’s mind is clearly not the one that happens

jungkook SHRIEKS as he stumbles on his heels backward — crystal clear to him that yoongi was not looking for his phone, but instead balling his fist and him being the receiving end

almost the receiving end

yoongi almost sucker-punches jungkook in a blink, fist literally a millimeter away from his nose and the only thing he could see at the moment is red

... red and jungkook’s wide eyes that have never carried this much fear up until now

“that’s a knuckle sandwich, kid. would’ve fed it to you if only y/n isn’t in the room right behind me.”

holy fuck

his heart is beating right against his ribcage and that shouldn’t be possible, fists closing upon themselves nervously as he tries to soothe his thumb so his mind relaxes

spoiler alert: it doesn’t work

jungkook’s mind is all over the place, even more rattled than it was when he takes a text without studying (he was so low he got a 98), but the only thing that’s clear is that you’re behind this door

“yoongi — mister yoongi, please. i-i need to explain myself, and if only you let me try, i can!! i swear. i’m not forcing you but-...”

there he is again

jungkook’s only been in his sight for like two minutes but his eyes are already sore

“why are you even here?” he scowls and even if the younger boy’s taller than him, every bit of his posture and demeanor at the bite of his words scream small, “why go all this length for someone you stomped on today, then have the gall to be a crybaby about it?”

he's speechless and it only serves him right, looking at his mudded-up converse and trying to focus on anything besides the guilt within

"m-my explanation," jungkook mutters, hands behind his back as if he's being scolded, “will you tell y/n?”

yoongi releases an agitated breath at him muttering your name

he dOESN'T get to say your name!! no!!! not after what he did to you

“i’m not concerned about you. what i decide to do or not, has nothing to do with whatever you say right now.”

kook solemnly nods, and even if yoongi's much harsher in your words compared to yours, the gravity of yours with him not being related to you cuts deeper

there's nothing else he could care about, actually

jungkook follows campus curfews to a T and would come home two hours earlier in the rare event that he goes somewhere

but now, he couldn't care less when the dorm master could just be there any second and he'd pass a hall monitor like usual

for the whole day, you were the only one that occupied his mind

"i know hyeji isn’t the one."

god, it was clear as day

he'll be the first one to admit that he can't read people very well, but he knew from the start that it's probably not hyeji who's been packing his lunchboxes

jungkook sometimes takes attendance in behalf of the professor because as much as he's shy, he's also a teacher's pet

the classes she shared with hyeji? she wasn't present everyday for the whole duration of two weeks, and how could it be that she still managed to make him a lunchbox if she wasn't present in the campus at all?

there was a probability that it could've been her, but it was so low that it sat right next to improbable

"i-i entertained the possibility briefly that she was, but then nothing was making sense the more i thought about it."

jungkook sometimes also checks papers because his professors trust him enough and he has perfect scores anyway, so he uses his own as his answer key

"i needed to interview y/n for an assignment, a-and a signature above a name was needed and it was just so familiar."

the moment he racks his head for hyeji's writing, it seemed fAR from the writing on the sticky notes on the lunchboxes

"then she seemed mad at me, but when i went to her on the field to try and confront her-" jungkook pauses and almost whispers the next part, the shame on his skin starting to seep into his bones, "she told me that we weren't related for me to feel hurt about it."

yoongi clenches his jaw, a pressure forming on the center of his eyebrows because he knows where this is leading

"a-and i thought it was hyeji again."

jungkook can't bring himself to be elated that it's been you the whole time because he might be a little too late; a little too late when he's already subjected you to the heartbreak you didn't deserve

"i-i didn’t know what clicked in my mind but i was just so hurt that-"

that's the fiNAL straw for yoongi

this has been him trying to keep his anger at bay the whole time, but this one!! this one he can't just accept

"you are a fucking asshole. honestly."

jungkook slightly winces with the sudden cussing, but it barely scratches the surface

"you think you’re the only one hurt? tell that to me who’s never seen y/n cry so hard before — or even cry at all."

his explanation wasn't an excuse and he knows it, but nonetheless, it tears him apart

"i’m sorry."

his lips quiver and he's trying sO hard not to cry in front of his senior, but yoongi doesn't feel even the slightest remorse for the kid

"i don’t care. you don’t apologize to me; you apologize to y/n. whether she forgives you or not, which for the record i don’t think she should, you cannot take back what you said."

if what jungkook said was eVER said to yoongi, given that he had the same circumstances as you did, he wouldn't know how to bounce back at all

it's a pain he doesn't wish to feel and he could only helplessly look at you who's trying to navigate it

perhaps you don't even plan to navigate it — knowing you, you're just gonna sail through it all to the point you're not giving yourself enough time to even realize that you already are

it was the same cycle of trying to move on without grieving through it properly that it hurts yoongi and seokjin and the tiny amount of people around you

"grovel at her feet. cry her an ocean. commit penitence. whatever you wanna come up with, no matter what, you do not make my y/n feel like she isn’t deserving of love."

you're family and yoongi goes above and beyond for family.

"i don’t care if you make up. i don’t care if you don’t. all i know is that in any other place besides outside the room she sleeps in, i’d hurt you like you hurt her."

jungkook almost wishes that yoongi punches him now and he won't even try to dodge it

"i deserve it."

"you do."

they whole-heartedly agree and it's the only time that yoongi can get behind jungkook's words

"i’m always gonna be on y/n’s side, kid."

there's no other way around it and as much as you know it or not, you've cemented your position in yoongi's heart unknowingly

"the only way that i’m gonna be on yours is when you’ve earned my utmost respect," he can't even see when that happens, crossing his arms across his chest, "and you don’t."

jungkook's tears are falling to the floor but they don't get on his cheeks, the sudden set of footsteps coming from his side making his head straighten and wipe his eyes immediately

he's the only one alarmed and he spares yoongi a glance, then to said person

yeah right that couldn't have been you :((

the guy who's approaching doesn't stop walking and he looks like.... he's uh,,, coming to where he's exactly standing????

he seems oddly familiar though

“oh, taehyung!"

where did he hear that name before??

taehyung stands at the same height as jungkook, maybe a centimeter or two taller, but he just couldn't stop looking at him from the corner of his eyes

yoongi's oblivious to jungkook's ongoing deduction, immediately engulfing taehyung in conversation

"y/n’s already asleep. i could do her part of the project-“

he offers because he recalls that right, you told him that taehyung's coming over to finish your shared project of a business plan late tonight

uhhhhh you're kinda zooted and going through it rOUGH so yoongi doesn't mind doing your contribution for you

“yoongi!! oh no man, it’s not what i came here for," he leans for a side hug, eyes landing on jungkook to drop a polite smile to acknowledge him

jungkook only slightly bows, confused but even more intrigued because he heard your name in the conversation

"i just uh, i just saw y/n crying while i was on my way home awhile ago, and i didn’t get to ask why, but i felt bad, so i came by to drop some cookies.”

oh

taehyung continues talking and it leaves yoongi and jungkook stunned, but he only focuses his attention on the former

“you looked like a hazelnut cookie kind of guy, so i baked some too!! is y/n allergic to peanuts? i put some too in a separate container in case she is.”

yoongi laughs and they go from there

IT'S LIKE JUNGKOOK ISN'T EVEN HERE!!!!

baby he's here he's nOT a hallucination!!!!

despite the fact that he's sticking out like and (unacknowledged) sore thumb, no one makes a move to take the conversation elsewhere

“thanks, tae. damn, you did all this yourself?”

yoongi whistles when he takes the tupperware opening it and almost watering at the sight

he doesn't mind baking cookies for you in case you wake up hungry, but taehyung really just did himself a nice favor without knowing it

he smiles softly, eyes narrowing in intrigue now that he realizes

"taehyung. no offense, but you’ve only interacted with y/n like once and it’s only for a project. why would you bake her uhhh 28 cookies?”

hehe

“35, actually :D”

tae interjects, waving him off when yoongi's jaw drops even further

“yeah, i know. i just felt so sorry for her — i’m not related to y/n but i just felt like i wanted to make her feel better.”

jungkook's jaw locks at this, his breathing becoming shaky all over again, fists balled this time

“it’s like,, economics!! i don’t actually know, maybe??? i’m in visual arts. y/n took over my part for me when i was sick-“

".... so you made her 30 cookies."

taehyung's the personification of a golden retriever and now that he thinks about it, jungkook reckons seeing him more than a handful of times

he laughs deeply at yoongi's rebutt and it may be in unfortunate timing that jungkook realizes he kNOWS him

he's in the same year!! he's the one that takes the portraits for the school paper and it's always his name in the credits

"good night, yoongs. hug y/n for me. tell her i'll take over her part, no questions asked."

taehyung walks away and he's perfectly content even if he didn't get to give you the cookies like jungkook thought he would

"night, taehyung."

yoongi looks at the retreating figure briefly, then looks at jungkook pointedly

he doesn't realize that he's still budging and listened on an entire conversation, dropping his head when yoongi points to the elevator

"bye, jungkook."

"good night, yoongi."

he feels hesitant to leave but it's probably for the better, putting his hands in his pockets still not enough to make his hands stop trembling

kook stops at the middle of his walking, turning his head to look back at yoongi whose mouth already has crumbs

"c-can i see y/n tomorrow?"

"i'm not her dad."

jungkook nods somberly, leaving it at that while his bulk of emotions consume him

he thinks all about the ways he could attempt to make it up to you, a million ideas in his head but his head doesn't hurt

his nose twitches at the lingering scent the cookies left, annoyed at the persistent smell and perhaps the boy that brought them

jungkook's never really liked cookies.

[user-needs-new-hyperfixation]

Excessive Rambling Part One

In which I babble on and on about SherLiam and specifically Moriarty the Patriot Chapter 53

(Disclaimer: This meta(?) is written with the assumption that we the audience are meant to be reading SherLiam as romantic, even if it never becomes explicitly stated canon. This is all my interpretation, just having fun, you’re allowed to see things differently, blah blah blah etc etc.)

Sherlock and Liam are both incredibly smart and observant, and also complete idiots about each other (always a good trope). I think they’re both well aware of their own feelings, but neither realize those feelings are reciprocated. We know that Sherlock is uncertain about whether Liam even returns his friendship, he says so to Louis in Chapter 52.

Sherlock has been so open about his interest that it’s honestly hard to interpret his (at the very least) Big Dumb Crush on Liam as anything but canon. He gets pretty close to just outright hitting on him. And sure, Liam flirts back and plays along, but Sherlock doesn’t really know whether there’s anything deeper to it than that. 

Sherlock gets the sassy deduction clapback on the Noahtic and the “Catch me if you can, Mr. Holmes.” He gets the whole playing-hard-to-get routine in Chapter 31 (my beloved). 

But he doesn’t hear Liam tell Louis that he likes how Sherlock trusts others, or that he blames himself for Sherlock murdering Milverton. 

He doesn’t see the fond look Liam gives Mycroft at the revelation that he’s been shielding Sherlock from their family’s dark past. 

He doesn’t know Liam said his name again after the train left.

And so on.

As far as Sherlock knows, he’s a pawn, and to some degree a playmate, in Liam’s grand game. Beyond that, he doesn’t know what Liam feels. 

As for Liam, I think he’s caught up in the fairly typical conflict of his character type: not believing that someone could possibly know who he is and what he’s done and still love him. It’s why he gets so shaken up every time Sherlock says he wants Liam to be the Lord of Crime. But Liam’s deep into his suicidal spiral and just can’t believe him, even though Sherlock’s really open about his feelings. 

SOOOO, chapter 53!! 

Sherlock is pushing now. He refuses to take surface level answers. 

“Why me, why me, why me?” 

He’s digging and prodding -- he’s realized that it doesn’t make sense. He’s not strictly necessary to Liam’s plot. And that raises the question, is there some deeper feeling on Liam’s side?

And Liam has already written his letter. He knew Sherlock would ask this question, but I don’t think he expected him to be so insistent. He’s already spilled his heart onto paper, but he can’t face this in person. 

“Why not an actor?”

“That wouldn’t work, because reasons.”

“Why not Mycroft?”

“That wouldn’t work, because reasons.”

“Then why me?”

And this is where I start to go feral. Something about this panel in particular just haunts me: 

The word that comes to mind is consternation. Liam is frustrated and confused and he gets caught in the memory of those moments where he glimpsed genuine acceptance, and he turns the question back around. 

And because they’re idiots, he doesn’t even realize that just turning the question around is essentially a confession. He’s suggesting that whatever the reason Sherlock chose him is also the reason he chose Sherlock.

And Sherlock is just like, “I like James Moriarty the Lord of Crime, and I like Liam the snarky math professor, and I just thought it’d be really convenient if both of my crushes were the same person, ya know?”

OOOOKAY SO here’s the thing, I’ve said before that even in 2021/2022 I have my doubts that a shounen manga would fully canonize a gay ship between two main characters. I would LOVE to be proven wrong, but I’m not getting my hopes up. BUT I have been consuming media and absorbing tropes for like 25 years, and every instinct I have for fiction says that what follows is an Almost Kiss.

(f*ck that bell tho)

Like, Sherlock moved completely across the room and just keeps crowding in closer until Liam’s cornered up against the door (though door instead of wall means his escape route both literal and metaphorical is still available to him). The panel looking over Sherlock’s shoulder emphasizes how close they are. I recognize the lead-up to a kiss when I see it!! 

Sidenote: I love that John is just like “Nope I’m staying out of this, I’m an author, I know that sidekicks don’t come along for the romantic finale. Luv you tho bestie!” Proceeds to not see Sherlock again for three years. 

(Moran and Albert do some stuff. They’re both great characters doing and saying important things, but this meta is not about them.)

Okay I’m gonna write more on this (hopefully, theoretically) but I’m splitting it because this is already giant and I’m not even to the letter yet. TBC (probably).

[mrskurono]

title: What’s Your Deal? || Yuichiro Kurono x fem!Reader a/n: my mental health is shit? better retract back into my Kurono themed snail shell  word count: 1.8k (i have no idea why it’s so long...) tags: fem!Reader, language, idk nothing really, semi edited character(s): Director Oguru (fire force) ft. Kurono + Nataku synopsis: Your boss doesn’t get you. And he really doesn’t get you when he scopes out ten years worth of work history to understand exactly what keeps you at the power facility. So, what is your deal?

“You know...you could work closer to the main office with a resume like this. And by close, I mean, the main office under the President.”

Glancing from your screen to see Director Oguru’s face contorted in some semblance of confusion as he stared harder at the tablet in his grasp. You sit back in your chair confused by his remark. Apparently it was obvious on your face because he looked across the room at you with a coy smile.

“No seriously, what exactly is your deal?”

“My deal?” You don’t mirror his smile. Instead scowling at your supervisor as he goes back to scrolling through whatever it was he was doing, “What the hell are you talking about?”

Pale and boney finger pointing at the screen he turned your way. It’s honestly pointless this far across the room but Oguru makes a big scene of flicking through about five pages before returning to looking at the tablet himself, “You did your residency here and stayed? Seriously?”

Skeptical and confused about the man you look over at him leery of what he was going on about, “...lots of medical staff ended up working where they did their residency...so your point?”

“My point is with scores like this and a work history like this you should be grabbing the entire medical branch of the company by the throat!” Oguru chuckled and leaned back into his wheeled thrown, “Just your work alone on tephrosis could earn the President so much more.”

“It does already earn him that much,” You remark, “I’d be doing the same thing closer to the Empire or out here.”

“But you’d have so much more space.” Oguru gestured at the office space he’d bullied his way into sharing with you when he came down from the main office, “A better title. Undoubtedly a pay raise. So many people under your command.”

“Ew.”

“Ew?” Oguru parroted you with a disgusted look on his face at your unwanted remark.

“Yes eww.” You shake your head and return back to your computer, “That sounds awful. Besides-” A smirk crosses your lips even while you remain looking at your screen, “Working here means I’m as far away from you as possible.”

Tapping his index finger on his lip as Oguru crosses his legs and ganders back at your Haijima portfolio, “It’s true. You could earn me so much more money working closer to the Empire.”

“There’s a good reason right there not to take the upgrade.”

“Your work mainly focusses on tephrosis. Not exactly the adolla burst research everyone is clamoring for but-” Oguru stops on a file dedicated solely to your newest work with Nataku Son and by default Kurono, “It seems your knowledge spans far past just what you’ve already done. You’re one smart cookie huh?”

Throwing a lazy glance his way you look at him unamused, “Is there any point to this conversation Director?”

“Besides the fact I’m your acting supervisor?”

“Besides the fact you’re looking at material that has no real meaning to the adolla bursts or the pillars at the moment.” You correct him.

Oguru clicks his tongue clearly ignoring what you just said as he scrolls on his tablet without a care, “You’ve been with the Power Development facility for what...ten years now? And Kurono’s been here...well since he was seventeen.”

Unamused by his deduction skills you stare at him, “And your point?”

“Seems like you two have had more than your fair share of time to get to know each other.” Oguru, smiling to himself as he fiddled with the hand held computer, “Seems your residency was up...around the same time Kurono was offered to join the Fire Squads.”

“And?” You tapped away at your laptop trying not to feed into his childish gossip and willfully hoping he’d shut up sooner than later, “We both made career path choices. Everyone does when they’re young.”

Oguru spun himself around in his chair and wheeled himself closer to your desk across the room. Still not giving you a peak at his electronic device in his hand but the coy man was more than happy to look over your shoulder at the patient work you were doing. 

“You control him better than I do.” Oguru’s casual slimy smile, “What’s your secret?”

Your complacent look finally dipped into something different. One of disgust as you frowned at him and finally had enough of his poking. You turned around so you were both at eye level and gave him listless shrug, “I don’t have one.”

“I don’t believe it.” Oguru squinted as he rubbed his chin looking at you skeptical, “This isn’t a fairy tale like beauty and the beast. Kurono could never make the part of either beast or beauty.”

“What are the possible inclinations of our history is important to you Director?” You sighed, leaning into your desk with a propped up elbow and lazy glare in his direction, “Last time I checked. There’s some married and dating staff in most Haijima facilities. So unless you’re nit picking protocol-”

“I’m not nit picking anything,” Oguru chuckled, “You both do your jobs swimmingly and make me look great. I wanna know what makes the duo tick. Wanna know how the duo even functions.”

Blinking unenthused you shake your head, “Well unlike you, treating people not like tools and stepping stones really helps.”

“You and I both know Kurono is not the coworker you go out to drinks with to climb the cooperate ladder.”

“We actually went out for drinks once.” 

“Key word being once.” Oguru highlighted.

You roll your eyes and turn away from him back to your computer, “We decided dinners were more our thing than drinking.”

Sliding himself up to the edge of your work space. It was Oguru’s turn to prop his elbow up and lean in casually to look at you, “And lunches. And now you two basically have a kid together so- Oops-” He grinned ear to ear when the mention of Nataku caused your typing to go awry in the heat of the moment, “Sorry, I don’t mean kid. I mean Nataku Son so-”

“I know what you meant.” You cut him off sharply without taking your attention away from the screen.

Sighing like he was admitting defeat. Oguru pushed off your desk and spun himself around in his desk chair so he was facing out towards the rest of the office, “It’s just got me thinking is all. Kurono’s a good worker now. It’s almost like he’s working towards something now. You wouldn’t happen to know what the something is, do you?”

Hands resting on the keyboard. You can’t help but take a deep sigh. Striking anyone would be cruel. Striking your boss would be foolish. Though Oguru pushed the limits of that. You supposed from the outside Kurono does stir a different emotion in people that what you feel.

“So, you wanna know what’s my deal or Kurono’s deal?” You set your work aside to give the Director your entire attention.

“They seem kind of interchangeable don’t they?” Oguru smirked.

One long sigh. Why couldn’t he be like every other coworker who was just terrified of the man in question.

“Yes my residency was mostly taken up by Kurono’s tephrosis case.” You relay to him flatly.

“And you were able to get it to carbonize only within his right arm. Yes yes yes. I could read all that if I cared.” Oguru waved off the facts he could just read about.

Scowling you crossed your arms with a huff, “What are you, twelve?” His annoying smug face told you enough. Once more rolling your eyes at your boss you fall quiet for a moment before speaking, “...It’s true we both were up to go somewhere else. But when Kurono requested to stay here, the staff here extended the offer to me.”

“So you can control him.” Oguru nodded enticed by the idea.

Your frown of disgust says enough but you continue, “He’s still a person. There’s no controlling anything.”

Oguru waved his hand flippantly, “Yes yes no using people as tools and so forth. Tell that to someone who hasn’t climbed the cooperate ladder.”

“You know if you actually cared maybe stop interrupting so much.” 

“Fine fine fine.” Oguru held his hands up innocently. Instead of saying another word he made a motion like he was zipping his lips and throwing away the key.

Once more you sighed and dreaded the idea you didn’t have a cyanide pill like in the movies, “...They asked me to stay because Kurono asked about it.” Reaching up to palm the back of your neck there was a second you felt a little silly saying this all out loud after a decade, “I just- I wanted to help him. And his tephrosis. So I asked if I would be able to continue my research with him and astoundingly they all said yes. Looking back on it I see it’s very marketable if Haijima could reverse tephrosis. And subsequently work their companies even harder if that meant pryokenetic abilities no longer had a worry for bodily harm.”

Like he’s gestured, Oguru didn’t actually pipe in with a single word. Though you were speaking money. Something he was sure to be fond of.

“So...I stayed.” You think back to the past decade. The ups and downs. Some with Kurono some just on your own. And some of them together. Compared to now as you look over at the screen right next to you. A big picture of Nataku on the case file of him hanging off you while Kurono stood right next to the both of you. An untrained eye might actually think it’s a family photo. 

“So the deal-” Oguru followed your line of sight to the picture still up on your screen, “Is that you fell in love?”

Before you could answer. The hefty office door swung open. None other than Nataku bolting in as Kurono held the door open for the kid. His flame retardant sleeve flapping as he came bounding over to you seated in your chair. Going on about something and lunch of course. Until you hushed him up with a hug and you glanced over at Kurono. Who was undoubtedly scowling with all his might at the Director across from you. 

“Yeah.” You combed your fingers through Nataku’s hair as he looked up expectantly at you and Kurono finally broke his glare from Oguru’s direction. Only to meet his complacent stare and find a smile spreading on your own lips the second your gaze met, “I guess that’s my deal.”

[high-functioning-lokipath]

SH - Sherlock x Depressed!Reader - With a Little Help from My Friends - Words: 2,793

IMPORTANT A/N - PLEASE READ: As stated in the title, this story contains discussions of depression. There is mention of suicidal thought and self-harm. I personally don't think it's too intense in it's descriptions HOWEVER!!! If this will trigger you, for your own health and safety please do not read. My messages are always open if you'd like to talk. I wrote this partially based on my own feelings so I can understand to at least a degree. You're amazing and I love you all. As far as this story goes, just remember: it has a happy, very fluffy ending but it doesn't start that way. I hope you enjoy it, feel free to leave a comment!

Brief Backstory: Reader is friends with John and Sherlock. She is a nurse who works with John. The three met shortly after Sherlock came back. Sherlock and Reader have crushes on each other but won't admit to it. I think the story explains everything else.

"Y/N, I'm going to be honest," John said, putting his hand on your shoulder comfortingly. "I may have PTSD but I cannot fully put myself in your shoes. My depression is different than yours." You had called your best friend, John Watson, in a mild panic. You had been feeling depressed for some time, as he knew, but that day had been especially bad. There was no particular reason but your depression had gotten so intense that you knew you needed help to get past this particular wave. John invited you over to 221B, assuring you that his flatmate would be out for the next couple of hours. "As a doctor, I am going to prescribe you some medication. Lowest dose possible and only because I want to help you get some immediate relief but I know you do not want them to become permanent. Let's work on finding another solution for you, ok?"

"I don't know, John," you replied. You'd asked John to be your Doctor since you didn't go to one regularly and he didn't mind your irregular checkups. "I've tried just about everything. The only outlet that seems to help is writing and even then," you trailed off, trying not to cry again. "This feeling just won't go away and I don't even know why it's there in the first place. I just want it to stop."

"I think you should talk to Sherlock."

"What?" You squeaked. "Why in the world would I talk to Sherlock?"

"I can't tell you why, Y/N. As both your Doctor and Sherlock's, I have to respect certain amounts of patient confidentiality. However, as your friend, I think you should talk to him."

"I don't know."

"Trust me," He replied. Smirking slightly, he added, "Doctor's orders."

"Ok, John," you chuckled. He smiled and hugged you. "Thanks."

"Now how about we go and fill this prescription and then maybe get some ice cream?"

"Well, honestly," you sighed. "The ice cream sounds great but I didn't sleep well last night. I was actually wondering if I could just take a nap here for a bit. I sleep better here sometimes." You blushed but John nodded understandingly.

"Of course," He replied. "I'll run down to the drugstore and fill this for you. Meanwhile you get some rest. I'll let Sherlock know you're here just in case he ends up getting back before I do. Will you be ok by yourself?"

"Yeah," You smiled. "This is a safe space for me. I'll go grab a blanket. Thanks again."

"Don't mention it. Just remember, talk to him."

"I'll try."

About 15 minutes later, Sherlock arrived back at the flat. He'd gotten John's texts.

John: If you get home in the next 45 minutes, be quiet. Y/N is over and she's taking a nap. I have to run out for something.

Sherlock: Is everything ok? - SH

John: She said she had a bad night.

Sherlock: She must have had a reason to come over in the first place though. - SH

John: She's going to need to tell you that herself. Don't ask. Do you understand me? Let her tell you. Be nice, ok?

Sherlock: When am I not nice to Y/N? - SH

John: Ok, that is true. You like her too much to be rude to her. If you could just hold back your deductions for one second I will say this: you two have more in common than you think.

He hurried home, not to wake you up of course, but because he wanted to see you. If there was something seriously wrong, he wanted to try and brace himself for it first. He couldn't help the smile playing at the corner of his lips when he thought of you. You two were good friends, that much was obvious to everyone. But Sherlock could see the potential for something more. He liked you a lot. You were just as smart, sassy, and sarcastic as he was. But you also could be extremely kind and caring to others and especially to him. He still didn't quite understand why you cared for him so but he was grateful. Before he could dwell on that too much longer, he arrived at 221B.

He quietly slipped inside and smiled at what he saw. You were curled up on the couch, sleeping like a baby. Apparently, though, you'd kicked off the blanket you had grabbed. Instead of picking up the blanket, he decided to take off his long coat and carefully lay that over you. You quickly cuddled into the warm fabric, unconsciously taking a deep breath, inhaling his unique signature left behind on the coat. Satisfied with what he'd done, he took off his suit jacket and went to the kitchen to prepare some tea for when you woke up. He knew you had a favorite tea and, unless John moved it or drank it all, there still would be some in the cupboard.

You woke to the smell of your favorite tea and a hushed exclamation from the kitchen. Opening your eyes slowly you saw Sherlock in at the counter trying to set up a tray with the teapot and cups. Recognizing your surroundings a bit more, you realized what was on top of you. Sherlock was just about to bring out the tray but you decided to pretend you were still asleep. The chances of fooling the Detective were low, but you wanted to try.

"There," He whispered to himself, setting the tray on the coffee table. You could hear him settling down on his chair, likely getting into his 'palace pose' as you called it. For a moment you were happy. You had actually gotten some quality sleep, you were currently cuddled up in Sherlock's famous coat and Sherlock had even made you tea. But that feeling quickly faded. Tears threatened to spill out of your still closed eyes as self-deprecating thoughts filled your mind.

'John probably told him to make me tea. He probably covered me with his coat so I wasn't as much of a distraction. He doesn't want me here. He never does. Why does he even tolerate my presence? He probably wishes we'd never met,' You thought. Your mind was going a million miles an hour and gaining. Without your notice, the tears began rolling down your cheeks and quiet sobs escaped your lips.

"Y/N?" Sherlock whispered. You're eyes shot open. You hadn't heard him get up. Now he was kneeling right next to you, one hand hovering over your arm. "Are you ok?"

"Oh, Sherlock!" You cried. "I-I wish I knew."

"C'mere," he said, motioning for you to sit up. Once you did so, he pulled you into a tight hug.

"What's this for?"

"You always give me and John a hug when you see us. You haven't done so for the past 5 days. I-" he paused briefly before lowering his voice and continuing. "I missed it."

"Oh." You weren't quite sure how to reply to that. You leaned into his embrace, letting yourself get lost in the moment.

"Y/N? Is there something I can do to help?"

"How much did John tell you?" You asked. You wouldn't have been mad exactly if John had told Sherlock to talk to you, but you wanted to think Sherlock was reaching out on his own.

"He told me you had a bad night."

"That's all?" You asked, surprised. You pulled away slightly and stared into his eyes. Sherlock nodded, frowning slightly as he tried to deduce you.

"Why are you afraid to talk to me?" You turned away, embarrassed and unsure what to say. "Be honest."

"I don't want you to make fun of me. I have-" You took a deep breath, steeling your nerves and preparing to just jump right in. "I have been extremely depressed lately and I didn't want to hear another speech about how all I need to do is exercise and eat right and stop thinking about sad things. Well you know what? I can't stop it! I can't help it if I feel like a useless pile of trash that should be thrown in the bin and burned." By the time you finished your little tirade, you'd gotten up and started pacing the floor. Then you turned and faced Sherlock. His expression was neutral but there was an obvious sadness in his eyes, one you didn't expect to see. It wasn't of pity. If you had seen that you also would have given up on the conversation. No, it was almost an understanding, an empathy. His eyes were actually glistening with tears.

"Have you ever felt like," he paused, voice unsteady. "Like giving up?" He whispered, unable to hold eye contact. You nodded silently. He got up slowly and walked towards you. At first, you thought he would hug you again but then he started unbuttoning his shirt.

"Uh, Sherlock?"

"Just wait a moment. I want to show you something." He carefully shrugged off the purple shirt that you, admittedly, loved so much and tossed it on the chair. "Only one person knows about this. You will be the second. You remember I told you about Moriarty's network?"

"Yes, the day we met. I asked you about your work, a simple question. And I got an answer that lasted 3 hours." Sherlock chuckled dryly.

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"Oh, no. Please don't apologise. I-" You sighed, rubbing your forehead. "I tend to make jokes when I'm nervous."

"I know." He smiled at you with, yet again, a completely unreadable expression. "You remember though." You nodded, opting to stay silent as he explained. "Well, those 2 years dismantling his network weren't easy. Not physically and certainly not emotionally. As a result of the different missions, I received many wounds on my body in various locations. I was," He paused, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. "I was depressed, guilt-stricken and suicidal. I figured I had hurt my friends enough. If they thought I was dead maybe I should just go on with it."

"What changed your mind?"

"I didn't want to do it on a mission. I wanted to see home again one more time. So to temporarily relieve the pain I," He sighed. Well, I wouldn't let my wounds heal. I'd pick at them. Mycroft finally convinced me to come back officially because he needed my help. I never told him about this. I think he knows but we don't discuss it." He looked down, obviously embarrassed and feeling more emotionally naked than physically. "You can look," he said. It was as if he'd read your mind. You were trying to be respectful and not stare but you realized that's what he wanted to show you. You had, on occasion, seen him shirtless before but you had never realized how bad some of the scars were.

"Sherlock, I-I don't know what to say. I-" You were completely shocked. Not offended. But actually comforted that he understood you. "Thank you," You finally said.

"Actually I wanted to thank you. I didn't just show you this to prove that I understand your feelings." You looked at him confused. "The day we met. You were leaving work, correct?" You nodded.

"It had been my first day there. John had been happy with my work and requested that I stay assigned to his office permanently. John had already finished up and headed home but there was some paperwork I had to finish so I was leaving about an hour late. Come to think of it, John said he had plans with you that evening. Why were you there?"

"That's what I wanted to tell you. I met you less than a month after I came back. I had still been quite depressed so I was still picking at my injuries. That day had been a bad day for me. So I cancelled my plans with John and I decided to go back to where I started this whole mess and finish it."

"Wait, are you telling me that-"

"You saved my life." Sherlock took one of your hands in his own and held it tightly. "I had memorized the work schedules of most everyone there and knew how to slip in unnoticed."

"But you didn't factor in me."

"Correct. When I ran into you, quite literally in fact, as I was entering the building, I was surprised. Not just by your presence but by what I deduced about you. You intrigued me. I had to find out more about you so I invited you to have a cup of coffee with me."

"Which turned into dinner." Sherlock nodded. "And since you were so intrigued by me, you forgot all about that."

"In a manner of speaking. You weren't a cure-all, mind you. You helped, though, by giving me a new mystery to investigate: you. That night, when I got home, I told John everything. He helped me too and when I mentioned you he couldn't stop singing your praises. He is very proud of you and your work you know."

"Yeah, I guess so," You replied, a little embarrassed. "Thank you, Sherlock. I'm sorry that you went through all that, but, I'm glad I have someone who understands. And I'm glad you're here to help me."

"Me too, Y/N. Me too," He replied.

"Can I, um, can I have another hug?" You asked, blushing and smiling. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"If you must," He sighed, holding his arms out. Any other day, you would have thought he genuinely didn't want personal contact. But today you realized he was simply teasing. You wrapped your arms around his waist and leaned your head on his chest. You felt him relax as he leaned forward a little to cocoon you in his arms. "I care about you, Y/N. I don't care about many people but you mean so much to me. I-" You looked up at him and pressed a finger to his lips to quiet him.

"You don't have to say it, Sherlock. I know." He smiled and looked somewhat relieved. You knew he wasn't good with feelings and that was fine with you. "I love you too."

"I wanted to be the first one to say that," He pouted. You chuckled softly and booped his nose.

"You already have." He smiled and kissed your forehead lightly.

"I know this won't fix everything right away. I know you'll still have bad days. But I wanted you to know you could come to me too."

"I know. Thank you again, Sherlock." At that moment, John walked in with a bag from the store.

"Oh, hello!" He chirped, happy to see you hadn't gotten into a yelling match. Then he noticed Sherlock's shirt, or rather, lack thereof. "So, uh," He stuttered, unsure of what to say. "What should I do with this?"

"First of all, thank you, John, for giving me the guts to talk to him about this. And second, I think I'll give it a try. You know, to try and prevent a really bad day when you guys aren't available or if talking still isn't enough. But for today I think I'll be alright," You said, turning to John with a smile.

"Well, I'm glad. So did you just talk about that or did he finally tell you that he's had the biggest schoolboy crush on you from the moment he met you?"

"John!" Sherlock yelled. You laughed loudly.

"Not in those words exactly, John," You replied. "Don't worry," You added, turning to Sherlock and ruffling his curls. "Your secret's safe with me."

"Good. Now if you don't mind, I need your input on this case."

"Me?" You asked, quite surprised.

"Yes," He said as if it was obvious. "You're a woman after all!"

"And that is important because?"

"The killer was a woman obviously but I can't understand why she would do it!" The two of you went off into your own little world, completely ignoring John as he cooked dinner.

John: Ok, mates, get your tuxs out. Won't be long now.

Greg: He finally proposed? 😀

John: Not yet, give it a week.

Mycroft: John, you forget I monitor his spending habits.

John: And?

Mycroft: He's had a ring purchased for some time now.

Greg: 3 days tops.💍

Mycroft: I would estimate about 3 days as well, Detective Inspector.

Greg: We're in a Group Text. Talking about our friend like a bunch of teenage girls at a slumber party. I think you can call me Greg.

Mycroft: If I must.

John: So, girls, will you help me make the plans?

Mycroft: Of course. He is blood after all.

Greg: Count me in! Wouldn't miss it! 🕵️👰

Sherlock BBC Taglist

@lucywrites02

@delightfulheartdream

@bartv21

@another-crazy-fangirl

@ladylulu143

@gaitwae

@for-hearthand-home

[recklessmark]

PLEASE PLEASE WRITE A CHEATING ANGST WHERE MARK IS BEING SUCH A JERK ABT IT EVEN THO Y/N CATCHES HIM CHEATING ON HER AND ALSO MAKE THE PERSON MARK IS CHEATING WITH MEAN TOO, those stories are really the best kind of angst - anon ❤️

words count: 1.2k

warnings: angst, cheating

a/n: i have no mood for angst now i’m so sorry. this is not very miserable at all since i refused to let y/n cry pathetically in front of douchebag mark 😡 but hopefully you’ll like it.

you take a sip of your chardonnay, the other hand is still busy scrolling on your phone. your face puts on the best do-not-talk-to-me look while your fingers typing on the screen with a fast speed.

y/n: where are yo-

no, you delete the sentence.

y/n: can you pick me up after work?

delivered.

your fingers idly tap on the bar counter, flashing the bartender an encouraging smile as if you’re not currently having murder on your mind. after about less than 5 minutes, your phone buzzes on the marble surface and you take it in your hands again.

mark: i’m having meeting, i’ll probably stay over at my office either.

your lips curl into a crooked smile. executioner style.

y/n: you better sleep with one eye open tonight.

y/n:

you bite your bottom lip, trying to keep your composure and delete the yet-to-be-sent message. all you’re seeing is red now. mark lee, your lovely boyfriend has the audacity to tell you he’s having a meeting. a two people meeting, one man one woman, in a hotel. little does the two-timing, cheap-lying wannabe know that you’re sitting at the bar of the hotel he takes his side chick in. and you have to clarify that either you and your friends have caught him hang out with other women multiple times but you, a faithful girlfriend, brainlessly believe in him and maybe he will change. the only thing has changed ever since is his loyalty to you, wondrously decreases.

you leave a tip under your glass and jump of the stool. you turn at the corner, walking inside the hotel building. unfortunate for mark is that you have some work here, otherwise you couldn’t catch the sight he wrapped his arm around a girl and walked into the hotel. but work can be done later.

“good evening, how can i help you?” the receptionist greets you politely and you give her a smile. “y/f/n y/l/n, i have a business meeting with mr grey.”

the woman nods and types something on the laptop while you rake your eyes around the building. “floor 8, room 805, ms y/l/n.”

you smile in acknowledgment and turn around to walk away. “oh,” you put on a fake gape and glare back and the receptionist, “may i ask where’s mr lee’s room, i have to take something from him. mark lee please.”

she looks confused but obliges your command anyway. “floor 8, room 802.” you give her a “thank you” and stroll toward the elevator. god must be unpleasant with mark so that his room is on the same floor with yours. you take your phone out and decide to reply the previous message of him.

y/n: i have a meeting at imperial building either, we can go home together.

delivered.

adrenaline and rage rushing inside your veins as the monitor screen displays the red number 8. you take your steps slowly, the sound of your heels clicking against the floor reverberates around the empty floor.

801-805

seeing the gold banner on the wall, you turn at the corner. your head dizzy as you think about what’s happening inside the 802 room. standing in front of the wide wooden door, you decisively press your finger on the doorbell. just once and patiently wait for someone to open the door. although every room is soundproof but you can hear a small voice from the inside after about two minutes, you’re not complaining though, you have big heart for patience.

a ‘genuine’ smile plasters on your face as the door flings opened, revealing a woman- your coworker surprisingly and she only has a towel wrapped around her body. “hi,” you say and walk inside before she could process anything that’s going on. “where’s mark? mark lee.” you ask and opposite of your nonchalance, she makes a quite smart decision to throw a tantrum.

“what the hell y/n?! if you know he doesn’t even like you anymore why are you here? he will never go home so don’t cry and beg for it!”

“where’s ma-“ you calmly repeat yourself and suddenly you see your boyfriend gets out of the bathroom, with a towel wrapped around his hips either. his toned chest and abs look nice but they’ll be better if there’s some bullets shot through. “oh mister executioner, i was wondering where you are.”

mark gapes as he sees you, apparently hasn’t read your new message. he heard haven - his side chick was yelling and he was curious what she’s so frantic about. and now he understands.

you sit down at the cafe table and cross your legs. “you may speak now.” you flash him a reluctant smile.

“speak what? he has nothing to explain-“

“look,” mark cuts haven off and starts his meaningless explanation, “i don’t love you anymore, you’re always busy and your spare time is for work either!”

“my spare time is for work?!” you exclaim, “you are the one who fucking cancel all our dates and hangs out with your side chicks! you think i’m stupid that i’m totally clueless about what you do behind my back?” your voice is shaky yet you try to keep it as steady as possible. you’re not going to cry in front of him and his bitch.

“you call who’s a side chick?” haven yells, pointing her finger at you and you dart your eyes at her, “i’m not talking to you, don’t let me lose the tiny respect i’m still having for you. we’re both women and we work together, i don’t want to be rude.”

“you’re fucking fake as hell-“

“shut up,” mark shouts, making the woman shut her mouth and then turns back to you. “don’t act like you’re not flirting with other men at work, you’re a whore!” he says loudly and you’re practically speechless.

mark calls you a whore.

“since when i flirt with men?” you ask in a calm, quiet tone. you have completely no idea what he’s talking about because you’re certain that you only keep a professional and friendly relationship with any man you know except of mark.

“haven sent me a lot of photos of you and other guys,” he remarks and now you understand, your eyes give your shameless coworker a death stare as she’s avoiding your gaze. “who has the interest in this affair first?”

“me,” mark responds. now he knows how to he honest. “i like her first.”

you let out a chuckle unexpectedly, “so you like hannah, sophia, iris and my best friend as well?” it’s unbelievable that you still have faith in this man even though he hit on your best friend once and she’s already warned you about it.

as mark can’t say anything to defend himself, you stand up, “i’ll pack up your things and send it to your address. don’t ever walk into my place again.” you give him the last peck on his thin lips and walk away but not before giving your coworker a reminder.

“you’ve heard what i said, i hope you’re not the one who chooses to be stupid now.”

slamming the door close, you let out a heavy breath, feeling you’re about to stumble on your weak knees. you love mark so much that it blinds you, no matter how many times you saw him with other women, you still pretended to be clueless. you keep him beside you since you think that he will change but it’s just your one-way deduction which unfortunately could not be true. you hold back the tears in your watering eyes, you will cry when you’re home, not before you get your work done.

[parachutingkitten]

Y'all suck at dissecting Kai's character, so I guess I have to do it.

And I'm not even a Kai stan. He's a bottom tier ninja for me, which I guess means you can trust me, cuz I'm not biased, but also why am I the one doing this? I don't know about y'all, but recently on my dash, the method by which Kai fans try to make him sound good is... saying the writers hate him, ignore him, and that he isn't written well? Which... I mean there is a little bit of truth to, but like yikes guys, is this the best you got? Kai is a wonderful character with plenty of attention from the writers, a meaningful piece of the cast when put in secondary rolls, fairly consistent character writing with actual progression and valuable qualities that help the team without having to be the smart one- despite what some posts might tell you.

Let's get one thing cleared up: Ninjago isn't the best written show. By high level Hollywood standards, most the character arcs are kinda weak or too heavy handed, character consistency can be iffy, and most things serve the plot rather than the characters. There is no character you can point to and say "wow, this character is written so well! No complaints!" Nya and Jay were butchered by their weird love plot, Cole's one season doesn't actually give him an arc, Zane's been nothing but the robot numbers guy for like 10 seasons now, and Lloyd seems to be incapable of doing anything but relive the same one piece of dad angst for depth. Sorry, it's true. All the characters suck when you look at it from a large scale writing perspective. So when I say Kai is well written, I mean by ninjago kids show standards- cuz that's the scale we're working on. No, you couldn't drop Kai into a well written drama, but as far as ninjago goes... he's got a lot going for him, and by no means is he the biggest victim of poor writing.

(fair warning, wall of text below)

The title is a bit disingenuous. There are plenty of good Kai character break downs. What I am presenting here is a more positive perspective. On the whole, I will tend to give the writers the benefit of the doubt, and credit for what they do right writing is hard guys. That's what I'm doing here. I don't see much sense in getting mad the writers on behalf of Kai, or any other character. Ninjago is a simplistic ensemble show that works because of the identifiable simplicity of its main characters with some deeper layers hidden underneath if you keep watching. They've given us a damn good show with some damn enjoyable characters, so here are some criticisms I feel are a little flawed:

First, let's get the 'focus' thing out of the way. Apparently there are people saying Kai doesn't have a season yet? Which... what? I mean, I get that the pilots aren't a full season, the first two seasons, though he is the central protagonist, aren't "Kai seasons" as we've come to define ninja focus seasons, season 7, though he gets majority focus, he shares with his sister. But like... did y'all just forget about season 4? You know, the season where he had the title card, was on the box sets, got the love interest, and the majority of the A-plot? not to mention it's the best season don't @ me Like... if season 4 isn't a Kai season, I can make a damn good argument that season 3 isn't a Zane season, and I doubt anyone wants to go down that rabbit hole. I really can't wrap my head around this one. And I get that the fandom hates season 11 for some reason, but like you can't just pretend it doesn't exist. Kai has a consistent arc across 30 episodes in which he takes his powers for granted, loses them, and learns that, not only does he have value within the team without them, but that his element is intrinsically a part of him that he reclaims, bringing them back more powerful than ever, and with new respect for them. That's one of the most solid arcs in the whole series- the location is even thematically connected to his element. That's some good stuff right there! (Quick plug for season 11 if you haven't watched it in a while. Give it a rewatch, you might be pleasantly surprised)

Not to mention the writers give him fun side stuff all the time. Lots of fears of tech and water to overcome, a deep protective streak with Lloyd, becoming a chancellor, having a true potential actually relevant to the plot as a whole, blacksmith responsibilities, befriending dragons, hanging out with his dad. Not to mention actual focus stuff we haven't talked about yet, like his whole "my dad is evil" phase, and his "I might be evil" phase with him and Skylor. And on top of that, even when he doesn't have an explicit side plot, he's always just a fun and dynamic side character to make jokes or give exposition.

Now, into character stuff. Let's start with Kai's hot headed-ness. Some people say he's been loosing this quality, and I will admit, that's true! But those that claim this makes him inconsistent... I strongly disagree. In early seasons, Kai's temper would lead him to snap at his friends or make stupid decisions that set the team back (see episode 2 Zane freak out)- these are bad things. These are character flaws, yes? Now, in newer seasons, people say that he's inconsistent, cuz sometimes he'll be hot headed, and sometimes he won't. I'd say, this is exactly how being hot headed... works? It flares up without warning, and as an individual gets control of it, it'll pop up less and less often because they're channeling it into productive things - like say directing the anger towards an enemy (see season 11 end freak out). Kai has gained control of a character flaw, and though it still pops up on occasion, the fact that it's a once in a while kind of thing speaks to his growth. I have a little brother who has this exact personality, and watching him grow up, I can tell you, this is how it is. He used to snap all the time, and he still does sometimes, but much less frequently, because he's a more mature person with better control of his emotions. This is a good thing. This is overcoming personal flaws. This is progression we're seeing.

And while you're hyper focused on this one aspect of him, things like his cocky confidence haven't changed a bit. I mean, that season 3 bit between him and Pixal, and his season 11 "fire maker" streak have the exact same energy. You can not convince me otherwise.

Another adjacent quality that hasn't been dampened is Kai's impulsiveness. This can be a good quality of his, he'll get into a fight without thinking, getting the jump on the enemy. Good stuff. But, this has become such a well defined trait of Kai's that it has been used in a comedic capacity. This is what happens when a character is extremely consistent to the extent that both the audience and the characters in universe would be able to predict their actions. Kai's impulsivity used to be a more serious quality that put himself and others at risk, and was a big power move whenever he did something rash, but it's become such a staple of the show that it's now being used for comedy. That isn't Kai's impulsivity going away, that's Kai's impulsivity being recontextualized for the sake of the show. The season 9 "Who's stupid enough to jump on that thing" isn't a joke at the expense of Kai just for being dumb, it's a joke at Kai's being so predictably impulsive that everyone already knows he'll be the one to put himself in an insane amount of danger without thinking twice (you know, something stupid that might get him killed). But because in this instance, the danger is warranted, this is bravery. It's a complement to his character- it's what ends up defeating the colossus. Why are some people so bothered by this joke?

Oh right, cuz for some reason people want to peg Kai as the smart one? Look, Kai isn't stupid, none of the ninja are. All of them have smart moments (all of them have dumb ones too) and Kai can certainly handle himself, but "smart" is definitely not one of his defining characteristics- I think some people are confusing smart for his actual strength. Connected to his impulsivity, Kai has very good simplistic instincts. He sees the big picture and looks at the most surface level solution- which when the situation calls for it, that does indeed make him smart. But the same logic that led him to think "This snake has a glowing target on its head, lets hit it" also led him to think "I'm in a video game, therefore I am immortal." Are you really going to look at me and say he figured out Lloyd was the green ninja through logical deduction and a careful consideration of the facts? No. He had a gut feeling, and he trusted it. Instincts- instincts paired with his impulsive following of said instincts is what leads him to solve problems- and sometimes, that can be extremely effective. This goes for other ninja too. Jay isn't the smartest ninja- I would really only classify Zane and Nya as having intelligence define them (hence their ship name). But Jay is extremely creative and crafty. He also knows his was around mechanics, and as such, this will lead him to come up with creative tech based solutions which are smart. But, idk about you, if I had to point to another ninja as being 'dumb' it would 100% be Jay. Kai is a lot of things. He's passionate and determined and confident and persistent. He's a good improvisor, he's powerful and he's charming! These are all wonderful qualities, he doesn't also have to be the smart one. I am the worlds biggest Pixal stan, and she's a smart, sassy, powerful character, but I'm not gonna sit here and tell you she's also hilarious and adaptable and strong willed. She's a straight man to all the ninja's antics, extremely tied to her samurai x suit, and lets people push her around all the time. That doesn't mean she can't be funny, or self interested, but when she does act these ways, it stems from her other more prominent qualities. That make sense?

And while we're clearing up what Kai isn't, please stop characterizing Kai as an overly protective brother - especially romantically. The only two times he's been romantically protective to Nya are in Wu's Teas which I mean, come on and in the pilots when Jay is literally a stranger. For crying out loud, by the end of the pilot, he's smiling when Jay and Nya hug. That's not overly protective, that's just normal, any reasonable person would react this way, protective. And it's such a great stereotype break for a kids show like ninjago, having an older brother who actually trusts his younger sister to be her own independent person who can make her own decisions. I mean, I guess it's fine if you HC differently but like... idk, I don't buy it.

Now, is there still room to criticize the writers? Yes. Hell yes. But not to an extent greater than any other character. Could he have had more of a defined reaction to events of the most recent season that I won't name for the sake of spoilers? Yes. But could Zane have reacted for more than .5 seconds at being an evil war lord for apparently 60 years? Yeah. Has Kai taken a back seat in the past 4 seasons? Yeah. But so has Lloyd- and he's literally the main character of the show. Not to mention two of those seasons have gone to people who had to wait over ten seasons to get one to themselves, and one of them is a 40 minute special. Kai's doing just fine.

Anyway. Kai is great. He's a fun, stereotype breaking, impulsively driven, ball of energy and confidence who gets a good amount of screen time and some fun side plots.

One last thing to clear up: no hate to anyone. This isn't targeted at anyone specific, this post has been a long time coming, I've just seen some weird overblown claims on various platforms over the past few months and I finally sat down to write about it.

I like the Kai content we have. After all, if the writers were really that bad at writing him, then no one would like him.

Wow this was so much longer than I thought it would be. Um... if you have other long winded rants you'd like to see from me... let me know I guess?

[ladder-discourse]

Great Ace Attorney Wolfwalkers(???) AU Info Dump

So those doodles I was posting back in Dec. of some of the GAA/DGS characters as wolves (this one and this one) do have the context of an entire AU to go with them, but as usual I've been alternatively either too busy or too brain fried to compile them all in a format even close to approaching cohesion... UNTIL NOW.

This stuff is all from a collaborative effort between me and my friends Cal and Harry that spun off a simple question: What if… Wolfwalkers inspired GAA AU where Kazuma loses his memories and doesn’t remember he can become a wolf, and Ryunosuke is the weird feral stranger who keeps risking life and limb to sneak into the city to try and get him to remember who he is by getting him to come run around and be gay in the woods. What if.

Info below cut contains implied and explicit spoilers for the entirety of GAA Chronicles/DGS 1 and 2.

Important tweak to the premise and the reason why I keep putting (???) at the end when I call this a 'Wolfwalkers' AU: Instead of being humans who become wolves when they sleep, the wolf characters mentioned here are more along the lines of like, the wolves in Wolf’s Rain. They're actual wolves who can appear as/become human to try and blend in with human society. It's a pretty big change but, because Wolfwalkers is still the primary insp., I keep referring to it as a WW AU anyway. Even though it's not... Necessarily accurate. Lol. Much like in wolfwalkers there ARE still normal-ass wolves who CANNOT do this weird magic stuff. Also like in wolfwalkers, if you get bitten, you become one of them.

CHARACTERS

Ryunosuke: Wolf w/ dark grey/black fur. On the scrawnier side (probably the runt of his litter) but prides himself on having a particularly excellent sense of smell. Best friends (extremely gay) with Kazuma. Has spent the better part of a year trying to accept his friend’s apparent death until one day, he picks up what he’s convinced must be Kazuma’s scent coming from inside a mysterious and imposing looking walled human city.

Susato: Human turned wolf with light-gray/silvery fur. She’s particularly agile in wolf mode, and naturally has a way better understanding of how human society works, which probably doesn’t sound like much of a talent but please realize that her skills and expertise exist in contrast to Ryunosuke, who tries real hard but is kind of a disaster. Kazuma is basically an adopted older brother to Susato, but he is also the reason she is a wolf in the first place. (There is no resentment over this, it’s totally chill, Kazuma just bit her by accident when they were very little and tussling or something.) Kazuma: Wolf with black fur and white accents. Presumed dead by his friends and family, but it turns out he actually lost his memory somehow and has been living in the human capital AS a human under the care of the local government, with absolutely no clue as to his own origins. Now working as a wolf hunter apprenticed to van Zieks. Crack shot w/ a hunting rifle, also very handy with swords (natch).

Iris: A clever young wolf who lives just outside the city walls with her adult guardian, Herlock Sholmes. Befriends Susato and Ryunosuke and aids them in their quest to find their friend. Niece to Barok, although obviously neither of them are aware of this fact. (I don’t think she has a PhD in this AU but she is still extremely smart and she is probably still an author??? IDK Gotta think about that.)

Sholmes: Human man, certified wolf sympathizer and Great Detective. Apparently known throughout the city and beyond for his great feats of deduction, although Ryunosuke is frankly a bit skeptical about how true that actually is! Iris convinces him to help aid Ryunosuke and Susato in rescuing Kazuma by working to uncover the truth of how their friend came to lose his memories in the first place.

Gina: Friend of Iris. A particularly unusual wolf who has learned to make a life for herself inside the city walls, despite how inhospitable the humans there are to her kind. Fur is a light blonde/fawn sort of color w/ black-grey sooty markings, which combined with her trademark bandana is enough to help her pass her true form off as a particularly large dog. Has a big chip on her shoulder, says she doesn’t like humans but is fiercely protective of all the human orphans in her gang. Uses her sharp wits and intimate knowledge of the city to help keep everyone out of danger.

Gregson: Plays a pretty minor role but because I know people are going to ask about him if I don’t include him (and I would not blame them, bc I love him too), here’s what he’s up to: He’s kind of the neighborhood block captain/keeper of the peace in the part of town where Gina and her rowdy gang of fellow orphans run amok. Still a great lover of fish and chips in this AU, but is not an actual cop and does not get tragically murdered, neither as part of a larger conspiracy nor for any other reason! Gina constantly gives him guff both as a wolf and as a human, generally causing him trouble whenever she chafes against the local rules. Gregson gives her crap but he does also kind of secretly care about her and the other kids, unfortunately he doesn’t really have the means or the resources to do much for them in terms of food/housing.

Barok: The city’s top hunter. Hates wolves with a passion, is ironically unaware that his own apprentice literally is one. Kind of a miserable combination of Quent Yaiden (WR) and Bill Goodfellowe (WW) in this AU. City wide he is feared and kind of known as a bit of a freak because he’s one of the few people within the city who fervently believes wild magic is a real thing, and he’s absolutely CONVINCED that there are wolves out there who are capable of appearing human. They are totally tricking everyone and trying to INFILTRATE CITY SOCIETY, and while he has no idea what they’re after or why they’d even want to do that, he is ABSOLUTELY POSITIVE they’re responsible for killing his older brother.

(He is eventually forced to reconsider this position when he’s bitten and becomes a wolf himself.)

Stronghart: Cromwell stand-in/governor of the city. The truth is, Mael actually knows all about wolves and wild magic, but he plays dumb so he can use his secret knowledge to further his own personal agendas. Manipulates van Zieks by pretending like he thinks he is out of his mind for claiming magic wolves are a real thing, then makes a big show of insisting on keeping him in the position of game warden because he’s the Best Man for the Job. He also knows the truth about what Kazuma really is and is the one who assigns him to apprentice under van Zieks. His hope is to poison Kazuma against his own kind enough to maybe kill a few of his own, so that even when he does eventually remember what he is, it’ll be too late/he'll be too guilt ridden to go back. Then he’ll have no choice but to become Stronghart’s own personal assassin, much like Klint used to be.

Yujin: Not super different from how he is in canon except he has two wolves for kids. Human guy and doctor who comes from a smaller town far far away from the big city wherein the central conflict takes place. Aware of shapeshifters/wild magic. Basically adopted Kazuma after Kazuma’s real father was tragically killed. Has some knowledge/experience about the human capital city but he is absolutely hiding it!

Klint: Deceased; human turned wolf, killed by Genshin in honorable combat. Stronghart found out about him being a secret wolf and manipulated him into using his shape changing abilities to carry out political murders disguised as tragic wolf maulings on his behalf.

Genshin: Deceased; wolf, but one who was also skilled at swordplay (yes, he’s a sword wolf, don’t worry about it). He inadvertently became the primary reason for Barok’s obsession with/hatred for wild magic and wolves/shapeshifters; when Klint was killed, a wolf was the only thing seen fleeing the scene of the crime… Yet his brother was murdered with a human weapon, not the fangs of an animal.

STORY BEATS/MISC SCENE IDEAS

The first time Susato and Ryunosuke enter the walled city, they take a tag team approach where Susato goes in as a human and Ryunosuke poses as her pet dog. That way she can handle all the human interaction and he can use his canine senses to try and lead them to Kazuma. This actually works really well until they run into Barok, who is not so easily fooled. He pegs Ryunosuke as a wolf almost immediately, and a harrowing mad dash chase scene ensues. In the chaos of the escape, Ryunosuke encounters Kazuma. Alas, he finds no recognition in his long-lost friend’s eyes, and indeed, when their gazes meet it’s over the barrel of a gun!

Susato and Ryu manage to escape only because of some well timed intervention from two local wolves, Iris and Gina. Gina berates them for waltzing into the city without a damn clue, Iris invites them back to her house just outside the city to meet with Sholmes and share their story.

With the help of their new friends, Ryu and Susato are able to take a more subtle approach in trying to get through to Kazuma. Ryunosuke takes things a step further and probably gets a menial job within whatever building is at the heart of the government where Kazuma works/trains under van zieks. He tries to get close to him as a human.

At one point he takes the plunge and tries to show Kazuma what he really is (in the hopes it'll jog his memories), but van zieks has long since grown suspicious of this new hire (“Hmmm the janitor we just hired sure has the same shifty boggly looking eyes as that wolf that got away from me the other week…”) and catches him in the act. And then literally catches him.

Barok has wolf-Ryu in a cage. He tries to interrogate him, but Ryu keeps playing dumb and refuses to speak. Barok’s losing it with frustration, this is the first shapeshifter he’s encountered since Klint’s death and he is DETERMINED to get some answers but this wolf just KEEPS. STARING. AT HIM.

Stronghart somehow gets wind of Barok’s catch and is terrified that this wolf he’s caught might know something and could blow all his plans sky high?? He intervenes in the interrogation, tells Barok off for being some kind of conspiracy theorist and going way too far with this shapechanger theory of his, says he’s confiscating Ryunosuke with the intention of putting him down.

Susato, Iris, Gina, and Sholmes all show up to pull off a dramatic rescue. IDK what they do exactly but they make it out to the city gates somehow, at one point Barok IS about to shoot Ryunosuke but Susato saves him by lunging in and biting the hand Barok is aiming his pistol with.

They complete their escape while Barok is clutching his bite wound. Ryunosuke is compelled to look back one more time though, and there’s that super tropey thing where Ryu achieves a prolonged moment of sad and meaningful eye contact with the furious hunter before turning tail and disappearing into the trees.

It takes a bit probably, but one night soon after Barok will be DOOMED TO BECOME THE THING HE HATES THE MOST, and is forced to flee the city in a wild panic. Gets injured (possibly by his own apprentice?) on the way out.

While everyone’s regrouped at Sholmes’ place trying to figure out how the hell they’re going to get to Kazuma now, Ryu does a sniff and says he thinks there’s a new wolf out in the woods? One who smells kind of familiar but he’s not sure why…

They go to investigate and find wolf Barok wounded in the woods (Iris finds him first), they treat his wounds and bring him back to the house and basically they have to teach him how to be a wolf now.

They do eventually all work together to expose Stronghart and save Kazuma and love wins in the end.

I desperately wish I had the wherewithal to write a proper fic about all this but I don't, so you guys just get my partial bullet points and heartfelt doodles.

[marshmallowgoop]

[Image description: A screenshot from Case Closed Episode One: The Great Detective Turned Small. Remaking a scene from Episode 49 in the anime series, Shinichi tells a surprised Heiji, “Because, there is always only one truth.” End image description.]

Shinichi: Because, there is always only one truth.

Sometimes I think it’s kinda weird that I like Detective Conan/Case Closed so much. I mean, everyone in the show is, uh, well, human?

My favorite fiction niche is supposed to be “monsters,” gosh darn it.

But one of the things that attracts me to “monster” stories is the idea that appearances aren’t everything. What’s underneath the surface says more about a person than any outside crust that they happened to be born into.

Which is why I’m putting “monster” in quotes here. It’s not actual monsters that I adore. The characters I have such an affinity for are those who may be wrongly perceived as monstrous or unimportant because of what they look like.

And thinking of it that way... I can get why the goofy murder anime appeals to me. After all, the boiled-down plot synopsis is that there’s a detective people don’t take seriously because of what he looks like.

But, yeah. Characters by themselves aren’t what motivate me to fall in love with stories. Portraits are nice, but I can tell you that at least my eyes are gonna find themselves far more drawn to paintings with more people. It’s relationships between characters that get me more invested in a work of fiction than anything else, and I don’t just mean the shippy, romantic, lovey-dovey stuff (though that’s fun, too). My real start into vomiting out novel-length blog posts wasn’t purely because I liked a “monster”—it was because I liked (and will always like!) that “monster’s” partnership and camaraderie with someone else.

So, long story short? Detective Conan may not have “monsters,” but you could say that I still like it so much anyway because, at the end of the day, I greatly enjoy many of the relationships portrayed in its hundreds of episodes. And particularly, with this overly long preamble in mind, I love the relationship between Shinichi/Conan and Heiji. Because while Conan may not be a fish creature or space alien, he is so often not seen for who he really is. 

But Heiji... well. He kind of struggles to see Conan for anything but who he really is.

[Image descriptions: Two screenshots from Episode 77 of Detective Conan. In the first image, Heiji stands next to his father and waves, saying, “Heya, Kudo! How ya been?!” In the second image, Kogoro, Ran, and Conan appear shocked. Kogoro shouts, “Hattori Heiji?!” Ran asks, “Kudo?” End image descriptions.]

Heiji: Heya, Kudo! How ya been?!

Kogoro: Hattori Heiji?!

Ran: Kudo?

Which, yes. That Heiji sucks so much at this can be detrimental and troublesome and dangerous. I’m not at all trying to advocate that the guy should go around loudly calling Conan “Kudo.”

But when he’s not doing that, I find his relationship with Shinichi/Conan endlessly endearing. Conan’s so used to lying and pretending to be someone he’s not, but he doesn’t have to with Heiji. He can be himself. They can solve mysteries together as if Shinichi had never crossed paths with the Black Organization at all.

Of course, Conan doesn’t have to pitch up his voice and act silly with other characters in the show, either. And I also like those relationships a lot! And I’ll probably/maybe/someday write more about them in the future, too. But while I’m focusing on Heiji, one thing that gets me is just how quick he is at looking beyond appearances. Even before Heiji realizes Conan’s true identity, even when he’d only really met Shinichi once but finds himself absolutely enamored of him regardless (see the top of this post), Heiji still doesn’t take much time at all to recognize Shinichi’s intellect in Conan, and he treats Conan much like he’d treat the guy he desperately wants to see: 

[Image descriptions: Screenshots from Episode 58 of Detective Conan. In the first image, Heiji, with a troubled expression on his face, says, “Yeah, but something’s not quite right.” In the second image, Conan is shown beside Heiji. Heiji adds, “Right, boy?” Conan agrees, saying, “Yeah.” End image descriptions.]

Heiji: Yeah, but something’s not quite right. Right, boy?

Conan: Yeah.

And, I mean. This is before Heiji even explicitly and consciously suspects that Conan and Shinichi are one and the same. He just knows the kid’s smart and figures that “Kogoro’s” deductions are actually coming from someone dozens of centimeters smaller.

Which... I really like. It’s undoubtedly sweet that Heiji then immediately makes the connection to Shinichi after Conan explains his thoughts... 

[Image description: A screenshot from Episode 58 of Detective Conan. Ran scolds Conan for getting involved in the current case while Heiji, offscreen, thinks to himself, “His voice and body are different, but he’s almost just like Kudo!” End image description.]

Heiji (thinking): His voice and body are different, but he’s almost just like Kudo!

But I love that even prior to the Shinichi link, Heiji doesn’t discourage Conan. I love that no matter how young Conan seems, Heiji understands that he has good things to say and should be listened to. 

I mean. That is kinda part of why I like my “monster” niche so much.

(I’m also fond of an anime-only filler episode (36) that explores this topic in more depth, but that’s an essay for another day. Still, maybe another reason I’m so fond of Detective Conan is because I can relate to being babied... but admittedly, that’s at least as much to do with my personality as it is my looks.)

Anyway. This post’s gotten much longer than I intended. But I do wanna talk about one more thing that really cements this “looking beyond the surface” aspect of Shinichi/Conan’s relationship with Heiji, and that’s Heiji’s bad dream described in Episode 118:

[Image descriptions: Screenshots from Episode 118 of Detective Conan. The first image is a close-up shot of Heiji. He says, “I had a bad dream...” The next two images zoom out, showing Heiji’s back and Conan beside him. In the second image, Conan asks, “Dream?” Heiji replies, “Yeah. It happens when we catch a bad guy.” In the third image, Heiji finishes, “But he winds up stabbing and killing you instead!” End image descriptions.]

Heiji: I had a bad dream...

Conan: Dream?

Heiji: Yeah. It happens when we catch a bad guy. But he winds up stabbing and killing you instead!

In Funimation’s English dub, Heiji even tries to further play off how much the dream bothered him, joking, “Like you could ever catch a suspect!”

But it becomes clear later in the episode that Heiji never dreamed of Conan getting stabbed and killed, even if that’s what almost happens near the end. Heiji’s nightmare involved only Shinichi getting hurt:

[Image description: A screenshot from Episode 118 of Detective Conan. Conan has his hand on his face in thought, while in the background, Heiji imagines Shinichi in pain, clutching a bloody wound on his chest. End image description.]

Because, in the end? That’s how Heiji always sees the guy. As himself.

And I absolutely adore it.