#Bullet Train Transport Case
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Episode 240: The Bullet Train Transport Case (Part 1)
Half of this episode is taken up by Ran and Shinichi having a stupid conversation over the phone while waiting for the Shinkansen. Kazuha says her goodbyes while running as fast as the Shinkansen leaving the station. While on the train, they find out that Takagi and Sato are transporting a drug dealer. Then a fake bomb is found in the bathroom, and the drug dealer has to go to the other bathroom. While in the bathroom, he stabs himself, but when Conan gets on the scene, he notices that nothing about it makes sense, like the jelly blood versus the drippy blood, and the backwards dagger versus the samurai dagger. So they realize it’s a murder case.
#Dcmk#detective conan#case closed#Dtccompendium#Episode 240#Bullet Train Transport Case#Part 1#Ran Mouri#Shinichi Kudo#Heiji Hattori#Kazuha Toyama#Takagi#Sato#what is jelly blood?#The only real takeaway here is that Kazuha can run as fast as a bullet train and I'm not sure what to make of that exactly
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#detective conan#detective conan anime#detective conan series#case closed#Ep 240 - The Shinkansen Transport Case (Part 1)#The Shinkansen Transport Case (Part 1)#The Bullet Train Transport Case (Part 1)#The Shinkansen Transport Case#The Bullet Train Transport Case#episode 240#anime#anime series#anime tv show#mystery series#japanese tv show
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Sometimes, when I'm feeling flush, I like to go to this little restaurant near me. It's a sushi joint, and in my part of the world that always has to come with some additional kitsch. For this restaurant, it's "bullet train sushi." You order on a little iPad, and then a train comes out of the kitchen, bringing your sushi behind it. Clean. Efficient. Antithetical to my morals and values.
See, I'm from North America. In case you're unfamiliar, it's very popular these days. You can find it on the north end of America on any map, except for that weird one that is about Pangaea. One thing we love in North America is cars. We spend a couple of hours stuck in one so we can go to an office we hate, then spend a couple of hours going home so we can spend a few more hours taking our kids to a soccer game. If we had a train, then we'd be able to do things like check our text messages without running over a pedestrian.
Being presented with this totally viable transportation alternative, albeit in miniature and towing little pieces of raw fish behind it, troubles the mind. If we had made better choices, put monopolists to the torch, could we have a utopian society where you order things on a little iPad and then gleamingly efficient tubes fly you out of the kitchen and into a glorious new world? I love the food, but I hate the frantic cold sweats it gives me as I ponder an alternative civilization that doesn't care quite so much about heated steering wheels. That's why I had to do something.
Welcome to Switch's Highway of Sushi – the only sushi restaurant in town that's sponsored by General Motors Corporation. Here, each table is actually a fully-equipped Chevrolet Blazer. Diners are commanded to get their own goddamn food the way our forefathers once did: in four-wheel-drive. The eight-storey parking garage in which the restaurant is housed features many stalls, containing highly trained chefs making delicious food that's just a complex parking job in tight confines away.
Sure, it makes the restaurant fairly space-inefficient having to make room for sixty 6000-pound SUVs. Our insurance is through the fucking roof because our customers keep backing over the waiters and their own families (why not look at the award-winning ClearView Surround Backup Camera, idiots?) And the air quality inside the place could be defined as "not great," even with the really expensive oven vent hoods you get at the restaurant supply store.
All this doesn't matter. Freedom is what matters. The freedom to not have to occupy the same space as any other member of your civilization, unless you are currently backing over them because you forgot to check the backup camera again. Come on, table four. If you're going to keep this up all night, we might think about giving you some demerits.
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For episode explainers, have you done the episode of Psych where Shawn gets shot? S4e9
"...If you could just mail me to my dad's house now, that'd be... that'd be awesome."
I feel like I did this one, or maybe it's somewhere deep in my drafts, but I'll do it again, just for you Anon.
If you weren't watching American TV in the mid 2000s, Psych was a loosely-Sherlock-Holmes-based comedy about a brilliant detective who has severe ADD (as was the diagnosis at the time) which he uses, along with his father's extensive training, to pretend to be psychic.
In this particular episode, he ends up shot in the shoulder and kidnapped by the bad guys of the week, who are halfway through a plan to rob an armored vehicle transporting money between two banks.
So, essentially the big questions for this episode:
Where is the bullet wound exactly and is there a way to get shot in the shoulder that doesn't incur permanent damage?
Would his unconsciousness due to head injury be reasonable?
With said bullet wound and later head injury, would Shawn be able to escape the trunk, run for his life, and later jump between two moving vehicles with the extent of injury he suffered?
Bullet Wound:
So I get at least 2 asks a month that insinuate that getting shot in the shoulder (or abdomen) is some kind of relatively minor injury, and what can be done about them outside of a hospital.
Certainly that's how those kind of injuries are treated in fiction. Just to clear it up, however, getting shot in the shoulder is not only potentially life threatening due to non-tourniquet-able bleeding, but it can also be permanently disabling. Also, barring a shallow graze, there is no bullet-related shoulder injury that can be healed to full function without surgery.
Shoulders are not slabs of muscle- there's a TON of stuff in the shoulder that can be hella messed up by a bullet. These include the subclavian artery and vein, a nerve plexus, the brachial nerve, multiple bones, and tons of tiny little muscles (and also bigger muscles). Consider these 2 pics:
Based on where the blood makeup was applied, it looks like Shawn's wound starts maybe just above his rib cage but below his clavicle (shoulder bone), goes through his scapula (shoulder blade) and exits a little higher up than it entered. This puts him at risk for a lot of damage.
Potential damage includes: torn artery and vein (though unlikely given he did not bleed out where he was shot), injury to the nerve and nerve plexus (unlikely due to the fact that he is using his arm in the next episode), and potentially very bad injury to the scapula.
Duct taping the wound would do nothing for the bleeding without pressure also being applied, and while the guy that shot him was a sniper, likely with some combat first aid training, it doesn't look like he did much in the way of actually trying to stop bleeding.
To repair a torn artery or vein, a microsurgeon would have to literally sew the vessels back together. If they didn't, Shawn would have lost his arm. Or, in the case of injury to the vein, suffered permanent swelling in that arm.
Repairing a nerve is surprisingly more difficult. The surgeon basically sews the sheath around the nerve back together, but the nerve has to reconnect itself. This can take years and years, during which time the arm would be numb and paralyzed.
For the scapula, an orthopedic (bone) surgeon would have to replace all the pieces with either bone cement or fix them in place with metal plates. This would probably be the "easiest" to fix on the time frame in the episode.
Head injury:
When I started this blog 10 years ago, head injuries in fiction were used like they are in this episode- basically as a convenient way to knock someone out without lasting damage. As most of you know by this point, if someone is unconscious after a head injury, they are going to have some lasting damage.
In Shawn's case, it looks like he was out for long enough to move him to a chair and duct tape his wound. Maybe about 5 minutes. That's a fairly long time to be out after a head injury. Maybe not "learn to walk and talk again" but enough that he's going to spend the next few months unable to work, read, or look at screens without a fairly severe headache.
So, like, could this have happened? Sure, but the next episode would have to take place several months later, which I don't think it does.
Action scenes:
Well, Shawn would have trouble here. A broken scapula is going to severely limit movement and weight-bearing capacity on that left arm. He might have been able to run while holding the arm close to his body, but cutting the duct tape in the trunk of the car, texting Gus with both hands, and catching himself after jumping from the pickup to Lassiter's car would have been nearly impossible.
Also he would have spent probably several days in the hospital recovering from emergency surgery, and potentially months in outpatient physical and occupational therapy after a series of injuries like this.
So in conclusion, there was some literary license taken, as there usually is. Hope you liked it!
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Stupid decisions get you in stupid situations CH.3|| who the fuck is this bozo?
Stupid decisions get you in stupid situations… or in which [Name] gets themself in a stupid situation, getting hit by Truck-kun which was their own fault. They transported themself into the world of their favorite anime they’ve just finished watching the last episode on, Bungo Stray Dogs. Italics with “” around it= spoken in japanese
Italics with no “” = thoughts
BSD X G/N READER
—————————————————————————
You talked to Atsushi for the rest of the train ride, making small talk. At least you’ve somewhat gained the trust of him? After getting off the train, you three made your way to the area Ranpo was called to. You were standing beside Atsushi who was standing behind him(Ranpo).
”We don’t need private investigators on this.”
Minor— I mean Minoura said.
“That’s ridiculous. Every difficult case should be overseen by a master detective like me.”
“We don’t need private investigators on this, because the victim was a cop who worked for me.”
”Eh…”
“Uh..”
You and Atsushi mumbled behind Ranpo. Why’re you even here again? Oh right, because a truck slammed into you that you would’ve been able to avoid if you hadn’t made the stupid decision to blast your music through your head phones which “isekai’d” you into this fictional world— also because Kunikida sent you here to get watched on for some reason.
that was a really long sentence.
The man took off the thing that was covering the body of the victim, there was blood on her chest which stained her clothes. Her hair was wet and damp, her mouth being slightly open. This was.. your first time seeing a dead body. The smell was horrid and you grimaced at the sight of the cold corpse. Everyone was gathered around the victims body, Atsushi had his hand over his mouth as Ranpo took off his hat.
”The victim’s a lady.”
Ranpo spoke.
”Yes, sir. Her body was found floating in the river this morning.”
A random ahh cop replied.
”She was shot three times in the chest. We don’t know where or when she was killed. We haven’t found the bullets either.”
Minoura said.
”Any suspects?”
”Not yet. As far as anyone in the office knew, she wasn’t in a relationship. So we doubt it’s a jealous lover.”
”Very interesting. So does that mean you don't have any leads?”
”That’s more the reason why we can’t let some amateur private eye can handle this”
A police officer then shouted,
”Hey! Looks like the nets caught something!”
”They put out nets?
Atsushi asked.
”Yeah, the net’s strung across the water. Standard practice to dredge evidence from the river.”
The random ahh cop from earlier responded.
”Look over there! It’s a man!”
Another cop shouted.
”Do you think it’s a second victim?”
You shook your head even though he wasn’t talking to you— knowing full well who it was. Atsushi just turned to you when you did so but didn’t say a thing.
Everyone approached to what was caught jn the river, which was… a man.. Dazai Osamu who was fully well and alive.
”Eh…”
”Erm…”
Everyone sweat dropped upon seeing who it was.
”Hello, Atsushi. This is quite the strange coincidence.”
”Don’t tell me you tried to drown again, Osamu…”
”Don’t be silly. Committing suicide alone? That’s so passé these days. I have made a decision that if I am going to end everything, I’ll do it with a beautiful woman! Ah, double suicide! What a sweet ring it has. By comparison, it feels so empty to think about bidding farewell to this world all by my lonesome. That’s my new plan! I’m on the lookout for a passionate and suicidal woman to die with me!”
Dazai yapped.
”But how’d you get caught in the net?”
Dazai completely ignored Atsushi’s question and asked one of his own, planning to answer his later.
”Oh? And who’s this?”
You barely could understand what everyone was saying but was able to put two and two together with the few words you did understand.
”I’m [Name].”
Was all you said before Atsushi went to explain why you’re with them.
”They appeared in the ADA while we were cleaning out of thin air.. Kunikida said for them to come with us so I can keep a close eye on them. Though… they don’t seem like a threat.”
Was that an insult saying you look weak or a compliment which means he trusts you enough to think you won’t do any harm?.
MASTERLIST
#bsd#bungo stray dogs#bsd x y/n#bsd x reader#bsd x gender neutral reader#bsd x gn reader#bsd x you#dazai osamu#bsd ranpo#bungou stray dogs ranpo#ranpo edogawa#bsd atsushi#atsushi nakajima#bungou gay dogs
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MAY 18TH, 2025
May 18th - Shinkansen to Kyoto
Today, we finally rode the shinkansen, otherwise known as the bullet train, to Kyoto! We all had to wake up fairly early to get there on time, especially since the bullet train is extremely punctual. It was my last breakfast at Hotel Edoya, and it was slightly bittersweet. I’m glad I no longer have to eat the same thing everyday, but at the same time, it’s become nostalgic and part of the routine. Now, we have to find our own sources of breakfast in the morning as the new hotel apparently does not have any breakfast services. Wish me luck… In any case, considering how long it took us to board the trains as a collective when we went to Mt. Takao, it seems Akane-san and Professor Smith started wrangling us early. Our departure time was scheduled for 10:33am, but we all arrived at the station as early as 9:50am. We even had enough time to buy bento boxes in anticipation for the roughly three hour commute. Once we actually boarded our bullet train, it was only a matter of time for me to pass out. I slept pretty much the entirety of the ride, and even missed the view of Mt. Fuji. Luckily, my friends said there was really nothing to miss, and that our view from Mt. Takao was better.
When we got to the hotel, they told us the check in was at 3:00pm, but we were there at 2:00pm and needed to improvise. Pretty much everyone left to get lunch, with my main friend group heading to Mos Burger. Even Akane-san joined us! Turns out she's a big fan of that chain. We spoke for a while about her life (she is only 23 and married and has her own business!), and attempted to share with her what Florida was like, specifically “Florida Man” lore and videos of crazy men in the Everglades. After lunch, we could finally enter the hotel and I slept pretty much the entire afternoon, and when I woke up, I did more of nothing. The usual suspects and I attempted to find a restaurant, but it seems everything here closes very early and they don't seem to like us foreigners. Or maybe it's that we're too big a group to be sat all at once. In any case, Aiden, Will, and I separate from the group and end up at a barbecue place where I finally got to try wagyu steak! It was sooo good, very much worth the hype, and it was only $15 for the whole meal! I love Japan’s pricing. After that, it was time to head home and sleep some more.
Academic Reflection
According to the reading, Shinkansens may inadvertently isolate municipalities that do not have close access to the stations that link to them. It creates “grey zones” of transportation and leads to “red lines,” lines for which there is a negative revenue. However, they cannot get rid of these lines since people do actually use them, just not enough people to turn a profit. These trains usually get subsidized by the government and municipalities.
Additionally, due to the speed of the Shinkansen, the tracks have to be fairly straight. Turning at that speed can be dangerous, and takes up a lot of space. At times, the Shinkansen’s tracks will divide neighborhoods and cause sound pollution. While it is helpful for reliable, and relatively cheap, transportation from city to city, local neighborhoods and residents may find it frustrating and an imposition, especially since there are such few stops to board the Shinkansen. Under the guise of connection, it splits up residential areas.





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Haikyuu and Public Transportation Headcanons: Date Tech
So I had planned to finish this like a month ago but then I got stuck and then finals hit and now I may be pulling an all-night to finish my final project for art… and yeah, I really do only post whenever I’m stressed out of my mind 🙃. Anyways I’m trying sth new and am linking some good causes below if you guys want to support someone in need ⬇️ ⬇️⬇️ Also at the bottom are my headcanons for the other teams.
Third Years
Yasushi Kamasaki - Bro is the most normal guy on the subway ever like actually I got stuck on him for WEEKS bc I couldn't think of anything; every once in a while he has payment problems with his phone not scanning but other than that riding the bus and subway is just riding public transportation for him; he gets his driver's license and a car pretty quick too and bro would never get on the subway again if his car didn't have limited capacity (it's not like he hates the subway or anything) (I'm so sorry to any Kamasaki stans I cannot get a read on this guy)
Kaname Moniwa - Always been a bus kid, has his bag in his lap to not take up space; gets slightly motion sick on longer rides; eyes glued to the phone on rides so not to accidentally make contact with random passengers
Takehito Sasaya - Prefers the train; honestly, I see him riding the train often on the way to a date with his girlfriend (who will be his future wife, I can’t believe someone actually gets canonically hitched in Haikyuu AND WITH KIDS, damn the sacrifices you have to make to be a main character 😔); stander on the train even when his gf is with him but it’s annoying bc of the height difference so she needs to pull him down into a seat (this man is a girl dad, he listens to his future wife)
Second Years
Mai Nametsu - Travels either on bus or train with a small group of friends except for mornings when she comes in early to prep the gym before practice; always works on something when she’s alone like notes for practice or homework (my girl gives such diligent worker vibes); public transportation has always been convenient for her so if she gets a driver’s license, she’ll still use public transport if she can
Takanobu Aone - poor lonely boy on the train who people won’t sit next to 😭 (actually from Haikyuu-Bu!!); he’s very punctual and has a very predictable schedule so eventually the people who always ride the same train car as he will realize he’s not scary and some grannies will end up sitting next to him later on, not much of a talker but a great listener and they’ll offer him candies; I don’t care if this is not canon but he’s a sitter because the train car heights are too short for him to feel comfortable standing
Kenji Futakuchi - sits at the end of the seats right by the door so he can immediately get out of the train car because he has no patience for slow people; wants to nap on the train but the train seats are so uncomfortable so he just ends up scrolling on his phone the whole time, which just makes him more tired and cranky; actually prefers riding with friends since he won’t have to be on his phone but man will not make conversation himself and will just half-heartily listen, unless he’s with Aone, in that case, Futakuchi needs to talk or else it’s going to be a silent train ride
Yutaka Obara - Power naps at the back of the bus, waking up just in time to rush to the doors to get off at his stop; doesn't like the subways much because it's always crowded whenever he has to get on one and he hates the feeling of being packed like a sardine; loves a long-distance bullet train ride, especially if he can get some extra leg room, then he can stretch out and watch the world go by
Tarō Onagawa - One of the few kids who get driven by their parents ( helicopter mother) so riding the subway for the first time was kinda special for them; a little wary of all the strangers in close distance at first but the headphones and music combo makes the experience so much better on the subway than car; I see the guy never getting his license when he grows up and gets a job that allows him to make great use of public transport
First Years
Kanji Koganegawa - chronically barely makes it onto the ride and thus rarely gets to sit (it's fine bc he's too tall to sit comfortably anyway); gets his jacket caught in the doors after barely making it too so after tugging for a bit, he gives up and waits for the next stop; even when the ride is completely packed, he really likes looking out the window so at least one perk of being this tall is there's rarely anyone blocking his view
Jingo Fukiage - Rides the bus but stands since he's also too tall for the seats to sit comfortably; similar to Aone, people didn't really sit near him until they realized he just had a resting blank face, and Fukiage definitely noticed this happening but just didn't do anything because he has no idea how to respond; if someone asks him for directions he blanks on response until a minute later when his brain has finally booted up and he can give an articulated response
Kōsuke Sakunami - He cannot ride public transportation with anyone from his team, because 1) the train is almost always packed and he has to be squished like a sardine, and 2) his dignity when his face is squashed between the wall and Koganegawa's chest, which isn't helped by the fact that Koganegawa keeps asking if Sakunami is okay when Sakunami can't even move his mouth without fear of biting the inside of his cheek; the slipperiest traveler in the subway, he can squeeze in between and around half a train car's length of people and slip onto and off a train as the train doors are closing; he ends up getting his license but chooses instead to carpool since he was kinda lonely and now it feels weird to travel anywhere without Koganegawa’s insistent yapping
——
Bonus:
Takurō Oiwake has a car, which cannot be any smaller than mid-sized if not an entire truck. This man has ridden public transport a total of 3 times in his life because his family can fix their own cars.
———
Palestinian Relief:
Just by sharing the links you can help!
⬇️⬇️⬇️
^ Vetted by Operation Olive Branch (#26)
Less than $800 away from their goal!!! 99% of the way through ➡️ @hayanahed
—
^ Vetted by @/90-ghost
Almost a quarter of the way there! A fellow college student 💪💪 ➡️ @asmaamajed2
—
^ Vetted by @/gazavetters
Just over 30%! The family is trying to get to Egypt and rebuild their lives! ➡️ @familgazaamal1
———
Other Teams: Nekoma, Seijoh, Karasuno
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Yea I need to get back to lineart, next one is either the owls or foxes, I'll decide when it comes to it. Remember to pretend these headcanons don't exist if you don't like them, and stay safe everyone!
#haikyuu headcanons#dateko#date tech#aone takanobu#futakuchi kenji#obara yutaka#koganegawa kanji#onagawa tarou#fukiage jingo#sakunami kousuke#kamesaki yasushi#moniwa kaname#sasaya takehito#donations
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Between Pages
Chapter 6
This is a Yandere Bungo Stray Dogs x Female Reader Fic!
MDNI!!
Kunikida assigned Atsushi to accompany Ranpo on a murder case, a task that left Atsushi with mixed feelings. Despite the praise heaped upon Ranpo for his uncanny ability to solve the most baffling mysteries, Atsushi was still a bit skeptical. After all, Ranpo seemed oddly clueless about even the most basic tasks. His suspicions only deepened when, on their way to the crime scene, Ranpo sheepishly admitted he didn’t know how to take the train.
“Seriously? You’ve never taken a train?” Atsushi asked, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.
Ranpo shrugged, his green eyes glinting with mischief. “Not really my style, you know? But I guess I could learn.”
Despite his reservations, Atsushi found himself helping Ranpo navigate the station, guiding him through the ticketing process and the hustle and bustle of the platforms. Watching Ranpo fumble with the train schedule and look around in confusion, Atsushi couldn’t help but feel a mix of confusion and awe. This was the master detective, yet he was utterly clueless when it came to something as mundane as public transportation.
As they finally boarded the train, Ranpo leaned back against the seat, a satisfied smile on his face. “See? Easy-peasy!” he declared, as if conquering the train ride was a significant achievement. Atsushi just shook his head, half-amused and half-concerned about what lay ahead.
When they arrived at the crime scene, Ranpo took Y/N’s hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She walked beside him in silence, her calming presence a stark contrast to the tension that hung in the air. As they approached the police blockade, however, Ranpo’s carefree attitude shifted dramatically.
Officer Minoura, a stern-looking man with a hawkish demeanor, stepped forward, arms crossed. “You’re late, Agents. And who is this?” he demanded, his eyes narrowing suspiciously as they landed on Y/N. “Where’s Yasui?”
“I’m Minoura,” he continued before they could answer. “I took over from Yasui. This case has been reassigned to our division, so we no longer need you or your agency.”
Ranpo, unfazed, waved his hand dismissively. “That’s ridiculous. Every difficult case should be overseen by a master detective like me,” he declared, his tone dripping with confidence.
Minoura scoffed, his gaze hardening. “We won’t need private investigators on this because the victim was a cop who worked for me.”
Atsushi blinked, the weight of the situation beginning to sink in. “The victim’s…a lady?”
“Yes, sir,” Minoura replied, his voice laced with cold professionalism. “Her body was found floating in the river this morning. She was shot three times in the chest. We don’t know where or when she was killed, and we haven’t found the bullets.”
Ranpo’s eyes gleamed with interest as he leaned in, his curiosity piqued. “Any suspects?”
“Not yet. As far as anyone at the office knew, she wasn’t in a relationship, so we doubt it was a jealous lover.”
“Very interesting,” Ranpo replied smoothly. “So does that mean you don’t have any leads?”
Minoura clenched his fists in frustration. “That’s all the more reason why we can’t let some amateur private eye handle this.”
Just then, a nearby officer called out, “Hey! Looks like the nets caught something!”
Everyone turned to see what was happening. “They put out nets?” Atsushi asked, his brow furrowing.
Minoura nodded, his expression grim. “Yeah, the net’s strung across the water. Standard practice to dredge evidence from the river.”
“Look over there! It’s a man!” another officer shouted.
Atsushi gasped, his heart sinking as he recognized the figure floating in the river, entangled in the net. “Hello, Atsushi,” called out Dazai, his trademark smirk in place as he shook the water from his hair. “This is quite the strange coincidence. Don’t tell me you tried to drown again, Osamu…”
Dazai’s playful demeanor only intensified. “Don’t be silly. Committing suicide alone? That’s so passé these days. I’ve made a decision that if I’m going to end everything, I’ll do it with a beautiful woman! Ah, double suicide! What a sweet ring it has.”
Atsushi sighed, shaking his head. “I see.”
But Dazai’s attention shifted as he noticed Y/N standing silently beside Ranpo. His eyes narrowed, and in a fluid motion, he reached out to take her free hand, his grip firm yet gentle. “Excuse me, Ranpo,” he said, a glint of mischief in his gaze. “Mind if I borrow her?”
Ranpo’s grip on Y/N’s hand tightened, making it clear he wasn’t about to let go. “Don’t be silly,” he replied, meeting Dazai’s gaze with an almost defiant calm. “I’m not a two-bit detective. I don’t need an assistant.”
Dazai chuckled, his tone playfully challenging. “Oh? Then I suppose you don’t mind if I step in?”
Y/N’s gaze flickered between the two of them, still silent but acutely aware of the tension simmering in the air. Ranpo’s fingers remained wrapped firmly around her hand, while Dazai held her other hand in a soft yet steady grip.
“Anyway,” Ranpo continued, turning back to Minoura with a dismissive air, “I’ll handle the case from here.”
Minoura’s expression hardened further. “I’m tired of all your jabber. You can’t crack hard cases just with deduction. Cases are solved through investigation: interviewing persons of interest and closely analyzing the crime scene.”
Ranpo smirked, an eyebrow raised. “Uh-huh? You’ve got a pretty thick skull. Great detectives don’t do ‘investigations.’ My ability, Ultra-Deduction, can instantly identify the killer.”
Minoura raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “Really? Then let’s have a look at it.”
Ranpo adjusted his glasses, shooting Atsushi a quick nod. “Watch closely, Atsushi. This is the ability that keeps the Agency going.”
As soon as Ranpo donned his glasses, his entire demeanor shifted, an intensity replacing his earlier nonchalance. “The killer,” he declared with a sharp edge to his voice, “is you.”
Gasps erupted from the officers, Minoura included. “What?!”
Ranpo pointed directly at Sergeant Sugimoto, whose face drained of color. “You’re the killer. You murdered her.”
Sugimoto’s expression turned incredulous. “Ridiculous! I’m not a killer!”
Ranpo’s smile was chillingly calm, a predator locking onto its prey. “Then hand me your gun. Let’s see if it’s missing three bullets.”
Sugimoto’s silence spoke volumes. His fingers twitched, his breathing quickening as he began to back away, but Atsushi and Dazai stepped in to block his escape route. “Running won’t help,” Ranpo said, his voice low and unyielding. “I already know the murder took place early yesterday morning at the abandoned shipyard upstream. We’ll find your footprints there, along with the bloodstains you tried and failed to erase.”
Sugimoto’s gaze darted around, searching for an exit, but there was none. Defeated, he sagged, the fight draining from him like water through a sieve.
With the case effectively solved, Dazai released Y/N’s hand, but not without a lingering glance that spoke of possessiveness. He turned to Ranpo, his expression thoughtful. “Not bad, Ranpo.”
Ranpo, still holding Y/N’s hand tightly, met Dazai’s gaze with a triumphant smile. “What did you expect from a master detective?”
As the tension began to ease, a new undercurrent of competition emerged between the two men, both of them vying for Y/N's attention. Each seemed to harbor a desire to protect her while simultaneously displaying their prowess in front of her. Dazai’s smirk had a hint of possessiveness, while Ranpo’s confidence was almost palpable.
Y/N watched them both, sensing the change in atmosphere. They were becoming more than just rivals in investigation; they were turning into something much more intense, fueled by a growing obsession with her presence. The realization sent a shiver down her spine, but at the same time, it thrilled her. She was at the center of their world, a fact that made her feel both powerful and vulnerable.
As the officers began to disperse, Y/N found herself caught between the two detectives, each of whom had their own ways of demonstrating their newfound yandere tendencies. Ranpo, with his casual confidence and unwavering dedication to the case, made her feel secure. Dazai, with his charismatic charm and unpredictable nature, drew her in like a moth to a flame.
In that moment, Y/N realized that the story she had stumbled into was far more intricate and dangerous than she had anticipated. The stakes were high, but she couldn’t deny the excitement that coursed through her veins. She was no longer just an observer; she was a vital part of the plot, and whatever happened next, she would face it head-on with both Ranpo and Dazai at her side.
The air in the interrogation room was heavy with a tense quiet, clinging to every corner and filling every breath. Sugimoto sat hunched over the table, his fingers wound tightly together, bloodless. He looked as though the weight of the world bore down on him. Minoura’s eyes narrowed, anger simmering beneath his professional composure, but he held back, staying silent.
Ranpo, however, was calm and detached, leaning back with an almost casual air. He hadn’t once let go of Y/N’s hand, his fingers laced firmly with hers, as though he needed to remind her of his presence. Every now and then, his grip would tighten slightly—a subtle reminder of his unyielding resolve. Dazai stood beside her, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder, occasionally tightening around her free hand in silent reassurance. He glanced between Ranpo and Sugimoto, analyzing and missing nothing.
Finally, Sugimoto spoke, his voice cracked and trembling, thick with guilt and regret. “It was never my plan… I never wanted to…” He swallowed, his voice breaking. “Yamagiwa… she thought she was following leads in a small-time corruption case. But she found something far worse—something involving a powerful, connected politician who had everything to lose.”
Ranpo’s gaze sharpened, though he remained silent, allowing Sugimoto to continue.
“He had a mole on the force—someone to destroy any evidence that came close to him,” Sugimoto said, eyes downcast. “I was that mole. I wanted to become a police officer more than anything, but I’d failed the entrance exam three times. I was desperate, broken. And he found me.” He took a shaky breath, his voice barely above a whisper. “He used his influence to make me a cop, but the price was reporting to him, following his orders. I… I didn’t have a choice.”
Minoura’s face twisted with contempt, but he allowed the confession to continue. Y/N felt her own anger stirring, though she kept her expression steady, grounded by the reassurance of both Ranpo and Dazai’s hands anchoring her.
Sugimoto’s voice grew firmer, tinged with desperation. “When I realized Yamagiwa was getting too close, I tried to warn her. I didn’t want her to get hurt. But she wouldn’t listen. She was relentless, determined. She wouldn’t back down, even when I told her he’d have her killed if she didn’t drop it.”
A memory flickered across his face, and his voice softened. “She looked me in the eyes and said, ‘Then I’ll just have to take him seriously, too.’ She didn’t care about the risk; she was brave, so brave…” He trailed off, his gaze distant.
Ranpo’s voice cut through the silence, startling Sugimoto back to the present. “And yet, you did nothing to stop it. In fact, you took it upon yourself to try and take that evidence from her.” His voice was cold, detached, as if he were examining a specimen. He never released Y/N’s hand, his thumb tracing small, calming circles.
Sugimoto winced, gaze dropping to his hands. “I thought… I thought I could protect her. I tried to get her to hand over the evidence, but she wouldn’t. I even threatened to kill myself if she didn’t give it to me.” His voice was bitter, laced with self-loathing. “She didn’t believe me. She called my bluff. And then… I don’t even know how it happened. I tried to pull the gun from her, to take it away before she could use it on herself or me, but…” His voice broke. “The gun went off.”
A heavy silence fell, thick and suffocating. Sugimoto’s shoulders shook, and for a moment, he looked utterly broken. “I didn’t mean to… I swear, I didn’t mean to hurt her.”
Ranpo’s gaze remained cold. “But you did,” he said bluntly. “And when you realized what you’d done, you called him. You called the man who’d made you his puppet. And he told you to clean up the mess, didn’t he?”
Sugimoto’s face paled, eyes widening as Ranpo continued, relentless. “He told you to make it look like a Mafia hit. To fire two more bullets into her chest, to cover up the initial shot. And then, you set her adrift in the river, hoping the water would carry away your sins along with her body.” Ranpo’s voice was steady, unwavering, yet there was a strange gentleness in his tone, as if he understood Sugimoto’s despair but had no room for pity.
Sugimoto’s face contorted, a tear sliding down his cheek. “I’m sorry… so sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Ranpo leaned forward, his gaze piercing. “Those were her last words, weren’t they?” His voice was soft, almost compassionate. “She looked at you, and she said, ‘I’m sorry.’”
Sugimoto choked, a strangled sob escaping him. He nodded, unable to speak, his face twisted in agony as he relived that moment over and over.
Minoura finally spoke, his tone laced with disgust and a hint of pity. “And now you have to live with that,” he said quietly. “Your loyalty cost her life, Sugimoto. But maybe… maybe you can help make things right.”
Sugimoto lifted his head, his eyes hollow, defeated. “The evidence she gathered… it’s in my desk drawer. Everything she found.”
Minoura’s expression softened slightly, though his tone remained cold. “Thank you,” he said, begrudging but sincere. He turned to Ranpo, his pride struggling to accept the truth. “I… I was wrong to doubt your abilities. If we ever have another case like this… I’ll come to you first.”
Ranpo smiled, satisfaction flickering across his face. “Oh, you’ll need my Ultra-Deduction sooner than you think,” he replied with a smirk, casting a sidelong glance at Minoura. “I might even give you a discount.”
Minoura managed a faint nod, avoiding looking too relieved. The tension had eased, but the room still felt heavy with Sugimoto’s confession.
As they left the station, Ranpo’s grip on Y/N’s hand didn’t loosen, his fingers intertwined with hers as if he needed the contact. Dazai, still holding her other hand, broke the silence with a light, almost playful tone. “You know, Ranpo, if you’re that reluctant to let her go, we might just have to take turns.”
Ranpo didn’t respond, but his grip on Y/N’s hand tightened, his smug smile an answer in itself. Y/N could only shake her head, caught between two men whose rivalry seemed endless—both, for reasons known and unknown, unable to let her go.
Chuuya stepped quietly through the threshold of the small, sparsely decorated studio apartment, taking in the surroundings with a keen eye. Breaking in had been effortless—almost embarrassingly so. The lock on the door hadn’t put up much of a fight; he’d simply jimmied it open in seconds, slipping into her personal space as though he’d been invited. A faint smirk played at his lips, a sense of smug satisfaction filling him. If she thought she could hide from him, she was mistaken. Chuuya Nakahara didn’t play games—he won them.
The apartment was almost disappointingly ordinary. A neatly made bed took up one corner of the room, a modest desk stood against the wall with a stack of papers and a laptop, and the kitchenette was tidy and minimalistic. There was a palpable lack of character in the space—no decorations, no personal photos, no sentimental objects scattered around. It was all painfully nondescript. He didn’t know what he’d expected, but somehow he’d thought he’d learn more about her by stepping into her home.
He moved cautiously through the apartment, letting his sharp eyes scan every inch of it for any sign of… well, anything. His gaze lingered on the desk for a moment before he moved closer, his fingers ghosting over the papers. Grocery lists, work schedules, mundane reminders—nothing that pointed to him or even hinted at a personal life beyond routine. He frowned, flipping through them with a growing sense of frustration.
With a sigh, he tried the laptop, pressing a key to wake the screen. A password prompt glowed back at him, which he closed immediately, a smirk pulling at his lips. Smart girl.She wasn’t going to make this easy. He closed the laptop and moved on.
The bookshelf drew his attention next, and he approached it, scanning the titles with a faint glimmer of interest. Classics, poetry, and a few mystery novels. He pulled out a well-worn copy of a novel and flipped through it absently, as though expecting a hidden message or a slip of paper to fall out. The pages were well-loved, some dog-eared to mark favorite passages, but there was nothing of substance.
“What are you hiding, huh?” he muttered under his breath, slipping the book back into place. The frustration was beginning to bubble up in him now. She’d walked into his life as if she knew him, had left him with more questions than answers, and now there wasn’t a single hint of anything personal to tie her to. It was like she’d meticulously erased herself from her own life.
He shifted his attention to the dresser. In the top drawer, neatly folded clothes greeted him: plain T-shirts, a couple of blouses, all washed and unremarkable. As he shifted through them, he felt a strange tension. Why was he even here, hoping to find something so intimate that it would reveal her secrets to him? He pushed a couple of shirts aside, his fingertips brushing something soft and delicate—underwear, folded neatly at the back.
A flush of heat crawled up the back of his neck, and he froze, his hand hovering over the pile. For a second, his mind told him to shut the drawer, to step back, to respect whatever boundaries he hadn’t already crossed. But a rush of impulse took over, and his fingers pinched a lacey pair, pulling it from the drawer. He could feel his heartbeat quicken, his pulse thundering in his ears. The sheer absurdity of what he was doing struck him, yet he didn’t stop himself.
Chuuya stood there for a moment, the underwear held loosely in his hand, almost as if it were a fragile secret she’d unintentionally shared with him. There was no reason to take it—no logic to this—but he found himself folding the lace into his pocket anyway, as if it would somehow give him a piece of her he could hold onto, even if it made no sense.
“Guess I’m not as rational as I thought,” he murmured, almost to himself, a wry smile tugging at his lips.
Closing the drawer, he cast another look around the room, searching for anything that might lead him to answers about who she really was. Why did she know him? Why did she approach him? And why did she insist on keeping her life such a blank slate? He needed something—anything—that might offer a glimpse behind the carefully controlled surface.
He turned toward the window, noting a small hairpin left sitting on the sill. It was simple, with a tiny pearl at the end. He picked it up, turning it over between his fingers, feeling the weight of it. It was so delicate and small, easily overlooked, just like she seemed to be. He pocketed the hairpin, too, a memento of sorts, something to remind him that she was real and not just a figment of his curiosity.
Chuuya took another slow look around the apartment, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the room one final time. There was something profoundly unsettling about the emptiness of her space. No photographs, no handwritten notes, nothing to show she’d even lived here, aside from the few basic necessities. It was almost as though she’d intentionally erased herself from her own life.
Frustrated, he glanced at her bed, catching sight of a small journal tucked beneath the pillow. Finally—a potential lead. He crossed the room in two swift strides, his hand reaching under the pillow to pull it out. The journal was plain, with no name or distinguishing marks, just a well-used notebook. He thumbed through it, only to find it filled with fragments—scribbled notes, poetry lines, and a few scrawled observations. None of them mentioned him by name, but he could sense her voice through them. The words seemed like pieces of a puzzle, hints of a person who guarded herself with an unusual intensity.
With a frustrated sigh, he closed the journal and slid it back under the pillow. It told him something, perhaps, but not enough. She was guarded, careful—someone who was hiding, but from what or whom? And why did he care so much?
He found himself at the door, feeling both empty-handed and more driven than ever. She’d pulled him into her world, and yet left him standing at the edge with no way in. A challenge, perhaps. Or maybe that was all she’d meant for him to have—a single, brief encounter, a fleeting mystery.
Pulling his coat a little tighter around him, he glanced once more at the room, noting the few subtle traces of her he’d found. The lace in his pocket felt oddly significant, almost like a secret only he knew. And the hairpin, too—small, delicate, a reminder that she was more than the enigma she’d projected.
With a final sigh, he closed the door softly behind him and slipped out into the night, his mind spinning with questions that he wasn’t sure he’d ever find answers to.
Y/N walked alongside Dazai and Atsushi as they headed back to the agency, the weight of Dazai’s hand wrapped around hers a constant, comforting presence. Dazai had grabbed her hand earlier without so much as a word, his grip firm yet gentle, and he showed no signs of letting go. She could still feel the warmth of his skin against hers, grounding her amidst the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions swirling in her mind.
Ranpo had already gone on ahead after ensuring she was safe, calling over his shoulder with his usual confidence that he’d see her at the agency soon. She was already starting to miss his presence and his comforting energy, but Dazai’s touch somehow reassured her. Though, from the looks of things, Ranpo hadn’t been thrilled about Dazai’s hold on her. She could almost imagine the irritated look in his eyes.
Beside her, Atsushi’s awe-filled voice broke her thoughts. “What Ranpo did back there was amazing. I had no idea he’d figure everything out so quickly,” he said, his voice filled with admiration. “His Ultra-Deduction ability is truly incredible.”
Dazai gave a soft chuckle, his eyes twinkling. “Yes, but I might’ve figured out half of it too,” he teased, his tone light but carrying an edge that made Y/N glance up at him curiously.
Atsushi blinked, surprised. “Half of what?”
“The case we just finished,” Dazai replied smoothly, shrugging with an air of nonchalance. “I know pretty much how Ranpo figured it all out.”
Atsushi furrowed his brows. “Well… maybe, but he said his ability lets him solve cases instantly…”
“Oh, that’s right.” Dazai’s smile widened, a glimmer of mischief in his gaze. “I keep forgetting you don’t know the truth about him yet, Atsushi.” He paused for dramatic effect, glancing sideways at Atsushi before continuing, “You see, the truth is… Ranpo doesn’t actually have an ability.”
Atsushi’s eyes widened, his expression one of complete shock. “Wait… what?!”
Dazai’s grip on Y/N’s hand tightened ever so slightly, as if sharing a private joke with her. He tilted his head toward Atsushi, still wearing that enigmatic smile. “Ranpo’s a rare breed. Despite what he says, he’s an un-gifted member of the Armed Detective Agency.”
“But…” Atsushi struggled to process the revelation, glancing from Dazai to Y/N, almost as if seeking confirmation.
Y/N offered him an encouraging nod. She’d read all about Ranpo’s extraordinary powers of deduction and his insistence on calling it an ability, despite it being pure intellect. Seeing that knowledge play out before her, watching the shock ripple across Atsushi’s face—it made the moment feel even more surreal.
Dazai continued, his tone thoughtful. “Ranpo actually believes he’s using an ability. But the truth is, he’s just that brilliant. His mind works in ways the rest of us can hardly imagine. And here’s a little secret…” He leaned closer to Atsushi, lowering his voice as if he were sharing a closely guarded secret. “I even tested it out today.”
“You… tested it?” Atsushi asked, blinking.
“While he was ‘using’ his Ultra-Deduction, I was secretly pinching his hair behind him,” Dazai said with a mischievous grin. “As you know, my ability neutralizes anyone’s powers if I touch them. But Ranpo’s deduction didn’t waver one bit.”
Atsushi’s jaw practically dropped. “So… it really isn’t an ability?”
Dazai nodded. “Ranpo’s deductions are entirely his own. Pure intellect, no supernatural boost. That’s what makes him so remarkable. Even though he’s childish at times, he’s a man the rest of us respect deeply because of what he can accomplish.”
Y/N couldn’t help but feel a swell of admiration for Ranpo. The way he saw and deduced so many details that others might miss—it was almost like a superpower in its own right. She gave Dazai’s hand a squeeze, feeling her heart skip as he returned the gesture, as if silently acknowledging her thoughts.
“So then, how did he figure out that Sugimoto was the one who committed the murder?” Atsushi asked, still clearly amazed. “And the details of how he did it?”
Dazai smirked, leading them down another street. “Well, I pieced it together myself, so I’d say it’s more about paying attention to the details. Take Sugimoto’s comments, for instance: he mentioned the shots he’d fired to make it look like a Mafia hit. But no one would assume multiple shots unless they knew the victim had been killed by the first. So, it was obvious that Sugimoto knew more than he should.”
Atsushi listened intently, nodding as he processed the explanation.
“And then there was the condition of the body,” Dazai continued. “Ranpo figured out it had only been in the river for a short time, maybe a day at most. The fact that the victim was dressed hastily, without makeup, also told him the time of the murder—early morning. It all added up.”
Atsushi’s awe grew as Dazai unraveled each layer of Ranpo’s deductions. “But there were other details, too… like how he knew what her final words were,” Atsushi murmured, almost to himself.
Dazai chuckled, a rare, soft laugh. “Ah, that was easy. You see, she had an expensive wristwatch—an import she wouldn’t normally afford on her salary. Sugimoto had the same brand, only the men’s version. She trusted him enough to meet without makeup, wearing matching watches. She loved him, and he loved her too… enough to follow his orders, even though it went against his instincts.” He sighed, his expression shifting slightly, almost as if he were seeing something far off.
Y/N looked up at him, catching a glimpse of the man beneath his usual carefree mask. This was Dazai in his truest form—deeply perceptive, able to understand the darker sides of human nature. It was moments like this that made her realize how layered he truly was, and her heart thudded a bit faster.
Atsushi looked away, slightly shaken but impressed. “So, it was pure deduction… nothing supernatural at all. And yet, Ranpo’s managed to solve so many cases like this.”
Dazai nodded, his gaze turning back to Y/N. “The city’s safer because of his work, his mind. Not everyone can comprehend that kind of brilliance, Atsushi. We’re lucky to have him.”
Before she could stop herself, Y/N whispered, “He truly is a great man.” She meant every word, admiring Ranpo’s gift for what it was: an ability that came solely from his intellect and intuition. But as she spoke, she could feel Dazai’s hand tighten around hers again, his gaze sharper, holding something more—something possessive.
They continued in silence for a while before Dazai chuckled softly. “Well, all’s well that ends well for us, don’t you think?” he murmured, his eyes flicking to Y/N’s.
She felt a sudden flush, glancing down at their joined hands. Despite the light-hearted tone, there was an undeniable intensity between them, a tension lingering that neither dared break.
#yandere#yandere bsd x reader#yandere x reader#bungo stray dogs#x reader#yandere dazai#kunikida doppo
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My Headcanons for BLU Sniper
There are many fans who have headcanons for the TF2 team and many are quite interesting to the point that I adopted some of them. The one I mainly (attempt to) write about is the BLU Sniper and his fellow teammates, since he's the main character in two fanfics I churned up ("Bubo" and "Dichotomy").
So, this is just from my point of view. Anyone who finds these ideas dumb or absurd, oh well, can't please everybody :)
NOTE: This is a long bullet list, so read at your own discretion and only if you have more time to spare.

Like with the rest of BLU Team, he's a clone, supposedly created by TF Industries. In reality, aliens did the work and supplied the clones to the human scientists.
Since the clones don't have given names, he calls himself Cyril.
Unlike RED Sniper, who's far-sighted, he's near-sighted and so his aviators also double as prescription glasses. Not good if they get shot out during a match. The only plausible explanation I could come up with is TF Industries or Mann Co. found a doctor who customizes glasses to resemble the real thing.
Although he has the RED Sniper's warfare abilities due to retaining learned memory through cloning, he's still not as highly skilled as his enemy. He keeps practicing though.
He's a bit more social and curious about asking people things, not making him quite an introvert or a loner per se. He has some friends outside the team, though he's very careful about disclosing to them what he does for a living.
He views the BLU Team as his family; they're the only ones he's ever known living and training with them at TF Industries' R&D branch during their extremely short "youth" phases.
He prefers his living quarters at the base.
He has a camper van, but it was given to him by TF Industries; they assumed that he would make use of it like RED Sniper does with his van. Not having any interest in mobile living, BLU Sniper simply uses it as a transportation vehicle. He does have to deal with Scout or Demoman asking multiple times if they can borrow it.
He has several of RED Sniper's preferences, mainly that he loves coffee and is not a happy person if he doesn't get it. He also doesn't mind wearing an Australian slouched hat.
He gets along with most of his teammates, with the exception of Soldier, who sometimes steals food off everyone's plates and Spy, who loves playing pranks on everyone.
Even though he's a clone, he doesn't possess the RED Sniper's uber hunting instincts or utilizing his own piss against enemies. So, you won't find him hunting rabbits or pheasants in the morning for breakfast. He also prefers a strong pressure washer-like weapon to blow back enemies (similar to Pyro's Airblast) or put out his teammates on fire.
He is considered more empathetic than his RED counterpart and more trusting, giving the chance he could sometimes be manipulated.
After the war, he'd consider a career in wildlife or for a more risky approach, a sniper on the SWAT team. He doesn't possess as much of a killer instinct enough for an assassin role, but still enough to be a dutiful soldier in battle.
Although he speaks with an Australian accent (a strange side-effect in the cloning process), he tends to use more American vernacular like 'my towel' instead of 'me towel' or 'Hey!' instead of 'Oi!'
He and BLU Team are actually Americans since they were born in the Badlands at TF Industries (or so that's the story they've been told).
He could easily imitate an American accent just for fun.
He has a close bond with an Spotted Owl named Bubo enough to the point it later becomes a psychic link.
He suffers from PTSD (Combat Stress Syndrome during the 1960s), based on real-life cases with veterans. It gets worse during the last year of the Gravel Wars.
He has erratic dreams of a strange symbol and ominous aliens.
He occasionally sleepwalks.
He's often a victim in his teammates' crazy antics when they're caught by police.
He often accuses Demoman's parrot of stealing his trail mix and candy in his bedroom.
Unlike RED Sniper, he doesn't like alligator or snake meat.
He doesn't keep pictures of his enemies to cross out.
He's not as cool-headed as RED Sniper and can get emotional about things, particularly if it concerns innocent people hurt or a dirty antic that RED used in a match.
He's often hunted more in the matches by the RED Sniper, as the latter has a strong predatory instinct to take out prey that's a mockery of him.
He later falls for Athene, another clone and younger version of The Administrator. This is a tribute to their married voice actors, John Patrick Lowrie and Ellen McClain.
As a clone, who was intentionally designed to last 10-12 years, he dies sometime around 1980. RED Sniper outlives him by several decades.
In terms of archtype, he's the Hero to RED Sniper's Anti-Hero.
He later becomes the de facto leader of other clones discovered and feels more of a kinship with them than to humans.
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Episode 241: The Bullet Train Transport Case (Part 2)
Three suspicious characters were witnessed walking through the train compartment, joined at the hip – Stonehead, Sweating, and Quackface. They also all had newspapers that somehow relayed the message “go to the bathroom” to the deceased criminal. Quackface killed the drug dealer in order to conceal the drug route. He stabbed him through a newspaper, so that he wouldn’t get blood on him. Conan realizes this when he finds part of the newspaper imprinted in the blood on the victim’s hand. Takagi takes down Quackface with an empty coffee can, knocking him forcefully to the ground, and then Sato jumps on him, pinning him to the floor.
Best Quotes:
Conan: (looking at the coffee can) “How could you say 'go to the bathroom' with this?
#dcmk#detective conan#case closed#dtccompendium#episode 241#Bullet Train Transport Case Part 2#Conan Edogawa#I'm not sure if you can imprint newspaper on someones hand with blood#but okay#Everything in Detective Conan is real
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#detective conan#detective conan anime#detective conan series#case closed#Ep 241 - The Shinkansen Transport Case (Part 2)#The Shinkansen Transport Case (Part 2)#The Bullet Train Transport Case (Part 2)#The Shinkansen Transport Case#The Bullet Train Transport Case#episode 241#anime#anime series#anime tv show#mystery series#japanese tv show
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Hi, ho, if you would rate Inteleon it would please me quite so! :)

Inteleons are an interesting case. As the final stage in an evolution line commonly used as first partner pokémon in the Galar Region, they are known to get along well with humans and are receptive to training. However, they are also incredibly deadly. This is a super spy in the form of a pokémon, after all. While inteleons may make good companions for some owners, their size and capabilities drag them down from a resounding approval.
Like I said, their size might be a bit of issue. They’re pretty lightweight, skinny, and skilled at maneuvering around, which means that space isn’t necessarily going to be an issue. But, I must admit it would be rather strange to have a humanoid pet that’s taller than me (not taller than everybody, but taller than me, the writer). It may creep some people out. They may be a bit difficult to handle when it comes to transportation. It’s a whole thing. But not necessarily a deal-breaker.
We don’t have very much data about the behavior of inteleons at all. Much of what I can say on the topic is speculation based on their biology. Inteleons are, from what I can tell, skilled hunters. Not only can they slink around with ease, they can also glide around with a special membrane on their backs (Sword). Inteleons can expel water from their fingertips with immense speed and accuracy: a nictitating membrane in their eyes allows them to “pick out foes’ weak points…[and] precisely blast them with water that shoots from its fingertips at Mach 3” (Shield). Mach 3. That is wicked fast. From the research I’ve done, that’s faster than some speeding bullets. I’m not an expert or anything but… that’s gonna be lethal in a lot of cases, right? From this, I can intuit that this probably evolved as a means of taking down prey from a distance, making inteleon a predator.
This lethal capability is reflected in inteleons’ signature move, Snipe Shot. Thankfully, there isn’t much else to be concerned about when it comes to their moves, except perhaps the heavy-hitters like Liquidation and Hydro Pump. It’s that Mach 3 sniper shot that really drags down inteleon’s score. Sure, they’re friendly to humans and receptive to training. So are dogs! But if a dog had a gun permanently built into their paws… even the best trained dog would make people a little nervous.
Inteleons are really a mixed bag. Friendly, but evolved to kill. Lightweight, but the height and shape of a human person. I’d say it’s really up to the reader to decide on this one. As far as the score goes, however, inteleon gets a solid C rank.
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Just Some of Ivanova & Sheridan’s Peak Sibling Moments in Point of No Return:
MATTERS OF HONOR [S03E01]:
“You know, I’m getting a little tired of these unannounced visits by VIPs who will not tell us why they’re coming or what they’re gonna do when they get here.” “Well, leave it you to try and take all the fun out of life. I mean, come on, where’s your sense of mystery, of adventure?” “Are you trying to cheer me up?” “No, sir. Wouldn’t dream of it.” “Good. I hate being cheered up. It’s depressing.” “Well, in that case, we’re all gonna die horrible, painful, lingering deaths.” “Thank you. I feel so much better now.”
[shared looks while Mr. Endowi interrogates Delenn]
“Captain, you wanted to see me?” “Yes, Commander, um…. It’s gonna be difficult. Um, I haven’t had a chance to fill you in on everything until now, and I apologize for that. But from what I’ve just heard, we don’t have a lot of time. This is Marcus. He’s a—” “A ranger. They’ve been trained to fight the Shadows and keep an eye on what’s happening outside Babylon 5. The rangers in this area are under the direct control of you, Ambassador Delenn, and Garibaldi is functioning as your liaison. Did I leave anything out?” “Ah, when did you, how did you—” “Captain, the day something happens around here and I don’t know about it, worry.”
A DAY IN THE STRIFE [S03E03]:
“With all due respect, that was Grade-A Stupid. I mean, what if the guy would’ve gone for it? What if he would just have blown your brains all over the place? I mean, what if he— what’s that?” “Energy cap. I palmed it when I shoved the gun in his pocket.” “You are going to give me an ulcer.” “Okay, okay, next time I’ll give him a live gun. You really do want that promotion.” “Next time you’re gonna—”
“Always finding the good in every situation, eh, Captain?” “Absolutely. If I didn’t, I might end up like you.”
“I swear, if we live through this, somebody’s gonna find their automatic shower preferences reprogrammed for ice water.”
“Captain, you alright?” “Aw, nuts.” “What’s wrong? I mean, we survived.” “Right. Which means now I have to go back to that stupid transport association meeting. Oh well.” “If I live through this job, without completely losing my mind— it will be a miracle of biblical proportions.”
VOICES OF AUTHORITY [S03E05]:
“Look, I can’t make my appointment on Epsilon III. You’ll have to go in my place. Get the information and get back as soon as you can.” “Not a problem. Anything else you need?” “A glass of whiskey, a gun, and two bullets.” “Understood. I’ll call you when I get back.”
[Ivanova rolling her eyes while Sheridan kisses Julie Musante & Sheridan rolling his eyes while kissing Julie Musante, because of course this is the time Ivanova appears]
“My usual timing, sorry.”
“I can’t leave without an explanation, she’ll be all over me.” “Looks to me like she’s already all over you.”
“Good luck, Captain. I think you’re about to go where everyone has gone before.” “You—”
SIC TRANSIT VIR [S03E12]:
“Interested in a little dime-store psychoanalysis?” “No, I’m just baring my soul as a preface to asking you to give me some silverware.”
[Ivanova’s Interruption of The Almost-Kiss™️]
“Now, get the hell out of my chair.” “Yes, sir! And may I say, sir, from the bottom of my heart that you make an absolutely charming Centauri.”
A LATE DELIVERY FROM AVALON [S03E13]:
“And you have an idea.” “Always, commander. Always.”
#who are queue? what do queue want?#for once it’s not an incorrect quote#babylon 5#b5#john sheridan#susan ivanova#himbo and the bi tale as old as time#i know this one took me a solid chunk of time#but life is crazy and i wanted to be able to enjoy the end of S03E20 as much as possible#because as the rock cried out: there’s no hiding place down here#ONTO THE BLORBO-MOBILE EVERYONE; WE’RE GOING TO MEET EMPEROR CARTAGIA
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Le cercle rouge (1970)
Silence may be golden, but it’s also a key driver of tension in Jean-Pierre Melville’s heists. The simple pleasure of a complicated heist pulled off never gets old, as evidenced in everything from Ocean’s 11 to The League of Gentlemen and beyond. But few balance the effort on a knife’s edge better than the jewel heist at the climax of Le cercle rouge. While little more than a cursory casing of the joint clues us in on the security obstacles—cameras, a locking mechanism on the wall, electronic safes for jewel cases—there is still an intricacy to the burglary. The film cues us into this sort of tension building early on as we witness the prisoner Vogel manage to pick the lock of his handcuff and escape his train transport. Every sound or stray movement could clue the inspector escorting him on this journey that something is afoot and botch the escape attempt in an instant. We grit our teeth as he clutches the opened cuff perilously, undoing one of the bunk supports before taking the leap. Sure, he’s evading justice for a mystery offense, but it’s so damn fun to see it pulled off! The same applies later as Corey and Vogel cut the glass of the window to get into the jewelry boutique. Any stray noise could alert the guard and spell doom for their mission. Sound design feeds in with immaculate choices in editing: when to linger, when to switch to a perspective shot, at what points to push in close or take in a whole space, all of these decisions have an effect in the way that the audience experiences the excitement of the sequence. The actions carried out may be the clinical work of experts, but they should be conveyed in an engaging way. Though there’s still room for the human touch in actions here: marksman Jansen has been overcoming alcoholism during the course of planning this heist, checking his hands for shaking and fighting off monsters. In the heist, he brings along a tripod to aim at the wall lock, but in a sudden passion he aims himself and fires his specially formulated bullet successfully unassisted. This is the kind of feel-good moment we crave in a burglary!
After Inspector Mattei is tasked with capturing the man who escaped him at the start of the film, his superior officer notes that all men are criminals, that nobody is truly innocent after birth. While its conclusion ensures that nobody “gets away with it,” what transpires in its duration is more morally grey than that punchline. Corey spends the film pursued by his former associate Rico, who is driven by revenge after his heavies are killed by Corey and Vogel enforcing his will in what begins as a sort of marriage of convenience. He pursues them illicitly, but also has the option to use the police force as an arm of that revenge. Meanwhile Mattei, while he dotes on his kitties at home, has his own machinations: trying to get local club owner Santi to spill on the criminal underworld, he orchestrates for his son to be picked up on trumped-up marijuana charges. That quickly spins out of control, showing that Mattei is both less impeccable at his game than he believes and more amoral than he would like to think. He gets his man in the end, but at a great cost.
THE RULES
SIP
Someone says 'job'.
A gun is holstered.
A round red object appears in frame.
BIG DRINK
A wipe transition is used in the edit.
Someone is introduced in a scene by reaching into frame.
#drinking games#le cercle rouge#jean-pierre melville#alain delon#action#action & adventure#crime#french cinema
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Pacer Burton's Rank
Disclaimer: For my tier list I’m basing this off of a one on one fight with no weapons or no outside interference. If a character has to rely on a weapon to win they’re typically ranked lower. If a character has to fight more than one person at a time, I’ll look at it on a case by case basis. Age, size and general background are factors that will be taken into consideration. Since a lot of those details are going to be up to interpretation as these are characters and not real people, feel free to share your own thoughts.
This is one of the few movies where we get canonical evidence of when this takes place. On the graves of Mr. and Mrs. Burton, they're marked to have died in 1878. What's shocking though is that this town doesn't seem to be placed by any train station. Especially knowing Mr. Burton's a cattle rancher. Cattle ranchers literally made their money by using the rails to transport the cattle to other parts of the country. Realistically, Mr. Burton would've been very well to do. He's the only rancher in that town so he would've been paid handsomely for his cattle. This would've made living in the plains of Texas, quite comfortable for Pacer and his family as Mr. Burton could've easily provided food.
Pacer's age is unknown but we do have one clue. Mrs. Burton was described as leaving the Kiowa tribe's camp 20 years ago. We can assume the reason behind her leaving was so she could marry Mr. Burton. Since Pacer has no memory of being in the camp, that means that he would've been born after she married Mr. Burton. Therefore we could assume that Pacer's one of the youngest Elvis characters at about 19-20 years old.
I know Pacer has a gun, but if you're only holding it like a prop it doesn't count. Pacer has to actually shoot it for it to be disqualified. One punch knocked this first man out so it technically doesn't count as a fight even though there was a clear intent on this man's part to attack Pacer.
It's dark in this scene so I'll do my best to explain what happened. After disposing his gun, Pacer has a classic fist fight with the second man. They climb onto the roof of the horse shed before the man falls off it. Pacer proceeds to hit him into submission. So in the span of about a minute Pacer wins a fight against 2 men. And given that Pacer suffered minimal injury, that's a positive for his case.
Once again because this is all "day as night" so I'll do my best to break down this fight scene. Pacer kills one Kiowa by shooting him which is disqualified. The second one, I don't think he specifically shoots and is instead using his gun as a prop. I'll count this one as a legitimate win. The 3rd one doesn't count as he does shoot him.
This 4th one is weird as at first Pacer isn't using a weapon before grabbing a knife. In this situation, I'll still count this as a legitimate win. Pacer still had to use some physical talent to keep the Kiowa from stabbing him. That gives him extra points for having to fight without any weapons.
Now what isn't seen is Pacer fighting the rest of the Kiowa. I can't say for sure how many he killed but what I can say is that the rifle he has was only a 6 shooter. He likely wouldn't be able to re-load it fast enough to make it effective once he runs out of bullets. He already spent two on Kiowa and a couple more as wasted shots in the air. Having to take on all of those men regardless of the outcome gives him a big boost. Simply not dying right away shows a sign of skill. Pacer was able to fight off enough of them to make it back into town, that makes him a respectable fighter.
Pacer is a fully grown man with a lot of energy. While he doesn't have the experience, he clearly makes up for it in strength. Age doesn't matter in his case, as his background would mean he would've done some physical labor since he was a child. He clearly has lean muscle that and has shown agility along with speed. Both skills are very important in a fist fight. When you consider the amount of people he had to fight in a short amount of time and the terrain he had to maneuver, fatigue would've played a big part in his fights.
Despite his death, Pacer would've just entered his prime. Sure he's still green but in terms of raw talent, he's a sleeper underdog. He is definitely better than the average man and I would say he could beat any Elvis character with military training. Easily in A tier as he doesn't have any professional training but has the raw skill to win a lot of fights. If you think this is enough to have him be on par with Walter Gulick I can understand making a case for him being in S tier. Elvis characters typically don't have fights that are this complex.
Tagging: @southcarolinawoman, @mercsandmonsters, @eapep, @almightybigbrain, @smokeymountainboy,
@thelonelyheart, @ladelinee, @bonjovipresley, @stitchlover0112, and @without-him.
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16 16 26?
16. (x2) They say you can tell a lot about a person from the state of their desk… Do you have a desk? Can you describe it?
I know the second one is probably a typo but I have 2 desks so I'll describe both lol
Two monitors on risers. A laptop. A tangle of cables. A collection of old & recent knicknacks: ponies, aperture science turrets, a wooloo in a pokeball, the shadowkeep CE box, lucky cats, a completed daruma, a laser cut keychain of Charlie, an Apollo moon landing commemorative pin. Someone's handmade geode mug filled with pens, pencils and cutting instruments, a single crochet hook, and two small pride flags; a green tiled turkish lamp; a stack of books; a desk mat depicting an eclipse in a dark forest scene; a keyboard whose non-alphabetical keys have been replaced with various symbols.
A stack of books. A tin box full of paper crafting & letter-writing materials. Unmounted rubber stamps. An "Ohio" mug. A coaster visualizing the time between earth's formation through recorded human history as a map of the united states. A rechargeable electronics duster. A pen grip. A glasses case. Two candles. A stack of journals beneath a resin bird's skull. A small lamp with a vaguely Victorian print lampshade. A model depicting Misty of Chincoteague. A full pin board. Framed prints of my art. A framed art card of a witch. Two resin blocks encasing specimens of sea life.
26. What is your dream mode of transportation?
BULLET TRAIN NETWORK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If I could get to other ends of the coast within a few hours I would be basically unstoppable.
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