#police detective film

[schlock-luster-video]

On November 9, 1970, They Call Me Mr. Tibbs! debuted in Madrid, Spain.

[driveintheaterofthemind]

Dick Tracy

Art by Matt Wagner

[gregor-samsung]

少年的你 [Better Days] (Derek Tsang, 2019)

[aesthetic--mood]

Police Aesthetic

[cloud3francois]

The Real Story of HEAT (1995)

[banjolandsblog]

MR. MONK'S LAST CASE Trailer (2024) Monk The Movie

[occamstfs]

MuskMask Up

Found footage of the missing persons Eddie Leon and Bowen Chen, last seen vlogging at a new gym with a mandatory mask policy. Well documented is what seems to happen when one forgets theirs.

Mixing it up a bit! Diary entries within a short metanarrative police investigation- Meat of the story is coworkers bulking up at an advanced rate after borrowing masks from the gym, hope you enjoy! -Occam

The following footage was found by the now missing-in-action Detective Smith during a missing persons investigation of civilians Eduardo “Eddie” Leon and Bowen Chen. If you have any information on the whereabouts of the pair or Detective Smith please call APD with information.

February 1st:

The scene opens with Eddie’s face inches away from a tripod he’s setting up. Behind him, stretching outside the entrance to a gym, is coworker Bowen Chen. Eddie smiles once he sees the camera has begun recording and backs away to start the first vlog on his journey to better health. Hopping up and waving both hands with abandon, he does just that.

“Heyyy guys! Today’s day one of hitting the gym with Bowen! Obviously he knows what he’s doing so this whole thing should be a piece of cake- I mean look at him!” He gestures to his friend mid-drink of water and Bowen quickly chokes it down before shyly responding. Face blushing pink as he’s clearly not nearly as comfortable on camera.

“Ah, uhm- Yes. Hello, audience? I’ve been ah uhm, steady? At the gym for a few years now and Eddie was wondering if I could show him the ropes. Sooo, uhm.” Eduardo was very clear that he was going to be doing a vlog about the whole thing but Bowen had no idea how much a camera would put him on edge. Seeing him flounder and hearing every word come quieter than the last Eddie quickly picks up the slack.

“So yeah! We’re going to a new gym that opened up, all their ads brag about retention rate and quick results which is what I’m all about haha!” Seeing a man in a face mask come through the automatic doors behind him Eddie claps his hands and tacks on, “OH! They also still require face masks which, I don’t mind,” he playfully grasps his friend’s jaw causing blush to return over a shy grin, “it does mean you might be seeing less of this little cutie’s face but so it goes~ When in Brome hee hee!” 

Bowen’s phone goes off as a timer set to ensure the pair stretch for long enough comes to an end. He then chastises Eddie for spending so long of their prep time vlogging before crossing his arms and resetting the clock to make sure his trainee stretches. Eddie quickly turns off the vlog with a wink, “Yikes already on his bad side haha~ See y’all later!”

February 9th:

“Helloooo guys~ Took my mask off real quick to record this.” He pauses to sniff the air and almost gags as he smells the musk of the gym, usually covered by his mask. “God is this what all gyms smell like?” Looking down at his sweat stained body and glistening chest he grimaces as he guesses he’s certainly not helping. Shaking it off he returns to his vlog, “Hm. I’ll edit that out- Helloooo Guys! You would not believe how much progress I’ve made already!”

He does a small flex and it’s clear he has put on more weight than would be expected, or rather more weight in a week than should be possible. “No one tells you how much you have to eat to put on mass, guys! Or I guess- Bowen told me huh?” He giggles and then jolts upright and turns the camera to his trainer working at a machine. “Speaking of gains there Mr. Mass is himself.” Behind the lens Eddie continues, “I forgot my mask today so the sweetie let me borrow his. Hear that ladies? This hunk’s also a gentleman. Someone get a ring on that finger!”

As Eddie continues to film Bowen’s reps it’s clear that something besides the effort is causing him discomfort. In fact it almost seems like the workout isn’t bothering him at all as he rolls his eyes before bending down to put more weight on the machine. With a free hand he plugs his nose to have the slightest moment of freedom from the musky scent that must be distracting him. Then as soon as he grunts through his first rep at the new weight a figure appears behind him, wearing a mask over the whole of his head and taps on his shoulder before clearly preparing to confront him.

“Oop, oh shit-” Eddie whispers, too far from his trainer to know what exactly the little confrontation is about, but after a few gestures to his maskless face it’s pretty clear. The sound of Eddie quickly putting his mask back on can be heard behind the camera as across the gym Bowen clearly nods a few times, assumedly acquiescing, motioning to pack up and head back later. He apologies and gestures for Eddie to head to the locker room but then the sweaty masked man waves him off and pats him on the back, pulling out a mask from his sweatpants.

Bowen’s gasp is loud enough to be heard enough on camera as he backs into the machine in shock as the brute holds out a mask retrieved from his sweaty pants. He waves his hands clear as day that he’s not about to put on that must-be stained mask. Eddie quickly gets off his machine and starts to head over check in on his friend. He knows Bowen hates attention and is wont to fold at any confrontation but surely he’s not about to be pressured into putting on that dirty rag.

Keeping the camera trained on Bowen just in case, he’s too focused on the shot to really notice the fear in the man’s eyes as he stares up at the masked figure. And then, with a gulp, Bowen shakily accepts the mask, close enough to read lips one could just about make out Bowen’s whispered apology, “I’m sorry sir it won’t happen again” And then he does the unthinkable and puts on the dirty mask. Eddie reacts quietly enough only for the camera to pick up, “Jesus Christ- Bo!? What are you doing?!” 

After the masked man pats Bowen on the back, harder than one surely should, and offers a rough handshake, he departs. The camera captures a few more frames as Eddie walks the final few feet over. While not covered in sweat, it’s clear that the mask on Bowen’s face is wrinkled and has a small dark patch in its corner. Either from the workout or from the anxious confrontation, the trainer is clearly breathing heavily. 

With each breath his eyes begin to glisten glassy. Staring off into the middle distance he adjusts his pants and seems distracted as each heaving breath strives to be deeper than the one that came before, as each gasp of musky air tries to instill more of the essence trapped within the wretched mask. His eyes almost begin to cross in the last frame before Eddie puts his phone in his pocket, leaving the last few seconds of the recording audio only. “Uhhhhm, Hey Bowen? What the fuck was that?”

There is a few seconds pause followed by the sound of presumably Bowen swallowing saliva before he answers “Oh! Uhhh yeah? I don’t know dude?” “Dude?” “Sorry my head feels like it’s swimming, Eddie? That was so uhh, intense-” The sound of adjusting clothing again comes through, someone pulling on the elastic band of their underwear.

Realizing the whole confrontation only happened because he forgot his own mask, Eddie apologizes, “That wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t take yours. Look we can swap if you-”“NO.” Silence follows once more before Bowen continues, “No I uhm- don’t mind br- Eddie. How about we call it there and head home?” Eduardo agrees and the pair head off to the locker room. After a few steps the recording ends.

February 15th:

The image begins as usual of Eddie from afar, though the sound of weight’s clanging is far louder than usual. After a few false starts interrupted by the din of falling metal, the vlogger walks a few feet away and begins talking to the camera, “Hey everyone, quick update this time-” Flexing to himself he takes a moment to address his continued growth before in the distance he hears brash, deep laughter and what little of his face is revealed makes his worry clear as day.

“I’m still chugging along but Bowen has, well blown up? Ever since the last vlog when that asshole made him wear a dirty mask it’s almost like he’s a totally different person? Here, look-” Eddie quickly pans the camera over to a man almost unrecognizable resting on a bench. Beyond having arms as large as Bowen’s legs should be, the man’s demeanor is indeed entirely different. He flexes his arm and moans to himself as he sees a central vein pushing against the strained shirt sleeve.

“Is it steroids? Do you think? OH! He’s also started using the masks the gym provides- Are there like, inhale-y steroids?” The vlogger quickly heads to the web to research, paying no mind to what the lens catch as the camera unintentionally witnesses the massive man lumbering up from his bench, leaving an unwiped sweat stain in his wake.

Massive pecs bounce with each step and thighs strain his shorts as he makes his way over to Eddie, “YO! Edster- Come help me stretch!” Eddie flinches as he’s shouted at, groaning uncomfortably he obeys his trainer. Forgetting he was taking a vlog at all he sets his phone down. The air fills with groans, cracking bones, and almost deliberately loud grunts from Bowen.

“You know I seem to remember you wanting to not put on too much weight Bo?” 

There’s a deep guffaw, “Pshyeah, but y’know, when the muscle-bug bites huhuh!” The sound of his sleeves straining from a performative flex covers up his breathy moan from hyperextension. “Woah bro, why do you look so down?”

Clearly not thinking his mood would be caught by a man whose only gear has suddenly become self-obsessed, Eddie stumbles, “Well I don’t know, I guess? I’m just worried about- You just seem a little different is all.

“Huh.” There’s a long silence interrupted only by the buzz of music and clanging weights far off. Then there’s a quick gasp as in one motion Bowen stands and hoists Eddie into the air, “woAH! Bo! Put me down!” 

“Huhuh no bro I get it- You don’t know why you’re not seein’ results as good as mine I totally get it!” Eddie grunts and gags in arms that truly could snap him in half, “Ugh B- you’re so sweaty ple-ugh.” Squirming in the behemoth’s grasp his face is forced into sweaty pecs that promptly stain his mask a dark blue. “God you’re going to get your b.o. All over me dude-” 

There are a few more seconds of complaint before Bowen finally drops his little buddy. Picking up his phone there’s a look of concern or questioning on his face, any number of thoughts soar through his mind, has Bowen always been that tall? Why has he grown so much? What happened to him, is it going to happen to me? And then he takes a deep breath. A sigh in relief or irritation, it’s unclear, but it doesn’t matter. The camera gets a much better glimpse this time as the gym-goer breaths in the oh-so musky, mask filtered air.

Under the mask his mouth squrims into a grimace, but already eyes begin to give way to thoughtless longing. With another breath one twitches while the other falls open wide, wanting nothing more than to mainline the scent directly into his nervous system. Pupils dilate large enough to almost hide his cacao irises before a meaty hand pats him on the back, “Earth to Eddo- Bro? You comin’ to wash up or what huhuh!” Jarred back to sentience, Eddie nods and follows him, the recording ending a few moments after.

February 22nd:

The camera alights on someone unrecognizable baring his torso for fans he doesn’t yet have, though the glazed look in his eyes is more than enough hint to prove it is the vlogger before he introduces himself. “Yoooo guys! Back at it again with Bowen, how’re we lookin?”

Eddie flexes a thick bicep and smirks under his mask, adjusting it as he laughs. It’s deeper, slower, a far cry from his usual giggle. “oh yeah, I’ve been usin’ the gyms masks just like Bowen said. And I gotta say, I think they’re the real secret of this place, I’ve just been packin’ on muscle since I started borrowing them.”

Standing to his side, Bowen makes himself known, somehow even bulkier than last time. Veins criss cross his forearms and shoulders stretch wide enough that it’s a wonder he was able to even get the suctioned compression shirt om. The thin elastic straps of his mask almost snap as he speaks up, the meek camera-shy man he once was clearly erased from his mind, “I’m saying Ed! Don’t know why you were holdin’ out on trying them after seeing how much I’ve grown!” Bowen crosses his arms and his top is stretched to his limits.

Eddie laughs before his eyes go dull as laughter leaves him with no choice but to take yet another deep breath. Lost in a thought that seems to never come, his words are barely audible enough to be caught by the camera almost mistakable for a moan, it may as well be one. He whispers “need more.” Drawn out like a death knell his vocal chords creak as they lengthen. And then, the camera captures the impossible.

It looks as if it’s edited. Arms go limp as they hang lower, bloat larger, heavier, barely staying in their sockets before his shoulders similarly bulge into thick balls of muscle. Pecs that have existed for less than a month push his sweaty tank top to its limits. The bench on which he rests creaks under his weight as thighs send tears through athletic shorts that were already too tight to wear. 

Behind him, his massive trainer’s eyes widen as he pauses his workout to stare at Eddie’s growth. Hungrily watching as individual strands of muscle flex and surge. Were his own mask not already sweat-stained, the drool frothing from his mouth may be more apparent. Bowen lets his weights clatter to the floor as he staggers close and leans in close to Eddie’s neck, sniffing like a predator, releasing something in between a whimper and grown as his scarred palms clench at his prey-apparent’s biceps, still bulging larger in his hands.

Bowen’s chest, over doubled in size since he began frequenting this gym, produces a rumble low enough to barely register as words. Through his mask he teeths the man’s neck, “Think I got another idea to get some gains Eddie.” This stirs the man from his reveries though does not for minute stop his growth as he bolts to his feet, almost falling forward from the new weight on his chest. Surely he would have had the man about to work him out maintained the iron grip on his arm.

Not another word is heard from the pair as they swiftly retreat to the locker room. The tripod continues filming until Eddie’s phone dies and contains little else of note. Other gym goers wander around the background, all of them masked and many of them stare forward with the same glazed eyes as they sit at various machines, laughing to themselves, breathing heavily, and lifting more with each heaving rep. Just before his phone dies and the recording ends, the man who gave Bowen his mask collects the tripod, through his mask a smile is clear on his face.

On March fifteenth newly promoted Detective Archie Smith follows up on a lead from coworkers of the missing men that the pair had recently started hitting up the Musclerade Gym. something about vlogging. The detective didn’t care. Miraculously, almost immediately did he find a pair of men who identify as Eduardo and Bowen. The only thing is-both resolutely deny ever having worked in an office building. Beyond that, it barely takes a glance to tell that despite their names and races that they cannot be the men in question. By sheer body weight alone, it’s impossible

Sure Mr. Chen looks healthy enough in his license photo but that massive hunk that stands before him could punch straight through the Detective. With a gulp Archie finds his eyes desperately wanting to trace the powerful muscles, begging for his attention through spandex and strained nylon. He finds his attention drawn to his own crotch as he can’t help but trace the veins on ‘Eduardo’s’ flexing arms to a hairy armpit dripping with sweat. Before he’s lost to his lusts however, he comes to his senses as the acrid musk pouring from both men sears his nose.

With a grunt he shakes off the beyond unprofessional distraction and meets the eyes of both men, neither too pleased to see the officer in their space. He fakes a smile and turns to continue his investigation before being intercepted by a man who seems to be of some authority, pulling him off to the side. Only his eyes are visible which sets Archie on edge. “What seems to be the problem officer?”

He explains his case and the mystery man calls the pair over, their harsh glares soften and Eddie laughs as he’s reminded of his little vlogs. Apparently the pair are trainers at the gym which despite some strange ping at the back of his mind, ignoring something screaming from his gut, when he sees their sculpted forms, smells their noxious odors, he can’t help but believe them. The masked man even offers to give him the recorded film, that is as long as he’s okay adhering to the gym’s guidelines while he waits.

There’s a glint in the eyes of both massive men now standing behind him as they each dislodge wrinkled masks from stained pants that have clearly suffered at least one gym session. Prepared to suffer more discomfort than this to sate his curiosity he throws on one of the hopefully unused masks. It’s at this point that the case goes cold. 

This recounting of events, along with a copy of Eduardo Leon’s ‘vlogs’ were found sloppily scrawled on some magazines near the shredded uniform of Officer Smith. It doesn’t seem to be his handwriting unless he were racing quite hastily against, well. I haven’t quite the idea what. I suppose it is of some note that they were next to a bloated member of the gym who didn’t have any I.D. on him. His clothes seemed to be from a lost and found as they didn’t fit quite right. We were unable to further investigate his identity, but without a doubt it simply could not be Officer Smith.

The junior officer who retrieved the evidence could scarcely spend five minutes next to the man, and given Smith’s predilections towards order and cleanliness it simply could not be him. Unfortunately the state of the gym put the officer in such unease that he did no further investigation. It’s a shame as when an investigation team was sent the following day it was as if the gym was never there. I am not one for flights of fancy, it is my belief that the whole situation was simply some drug front, perhaps steroids. At any rate should you see, or perhaps smell any of these men. I advise caution. And under no circumstances should you borrow one of their face masks, obviously.

Included above are to our best knowledge are the most recent sightings of Bowen Chen, Eduardo Leon, and finally a third depicting Eduardo alongside who we believe to be the man of interest found nearby Officer Smith’s uniform. It seems they haven’t stopped growing, that is, if this all isn’t some wild goose chase. Again, if you have information do report to APD. Though please refrain from submitting any, biological material. We have lost enough of the forensics department to this mania as is.

[schlock-luster-video]

On April 7, 1978, Serpico debuted in East Germany.

[transit-fag]

Murder Mystery Novel Premises:

An estranged gay couple have to solve the murder of their mutual ex

A painter has to solve the murder of his model to prove his innocence as he was the last person seen with her

The owner of a managerie has died and the Detective has to figure out how they died with a set of bird related clues

A detective has to solve a mystery where all the witnesses feel that the man who died had it coming and won't cooperate with him as a result

The method of murder is revealed due to an indie film made by the victim who was killed by one of their co-stars on the film

Elderly detective is killed and his granddaughter who wants nothing to do with the whole murder business is forced to solve his case because everyone on the police force resents the detective

The detective is a Muppet, this is never addressed by the book

[gregor-samsung]

少年的你 [Better Days] (Derek Tsang, 2019)

[astrobiscuits]

Astrocartography notes

🌍 Do you want to study abroad? Work abroad? Your MC lines show what domain to pursue:

Sun MC: photographer, actor; check the planet ruling your Sun's zodiac sign for more details

Moon MC: nurse, preschool/elementary teacher, childcare worker/nanny, doula, housekeeper

Mercury MC: librarian, language teacher, speech language pathologist, translator, working in academia, journalist, PR agent, receptionist, secretary, architect, economist, comedian

Venus MC: modelling, artist, fashion designer, hairstylist, makeup artist, art director, interior designer, garden designer, florist, wedding planner

Mars MC: surgeon, firefighter, working at the police, sportsman (the type of sport depends on the zodiac sign Mars is in your birth chart, for ex. Mars in Pisces = football, swimming; Mars in Libra = gymnastics); fitness instructor

Jupiter MC: international driver (driving to your Jupiter MC line brings bonusess💰💰), flight attendant, hotel manager, tour guide, philosopher

Saturn MC: general practitioner, dentist, law, working in the Parliament, working in public institutions, business (CEO), historian, construction worker

Uranus MC: STEM (engineering, ecology sciences, biology), electrician, weather presenter, astronomer/astrophysicist, astrologer, sociology, social worker, advocate for human rights/activist

Neptune MC: choreographer, scenographer, film/theater director, actor, ballet dancer, music composer, rehabilitation worker, bartender, yoga instructor, meditation teacher, reiki practitioner

Pluto MC: adult actor, therapist, psychiatrist, any job regarding forensics (detective, toxicologist, forensic accountant etc.), embalmer, funeral director, loan officer, research analyst

🌍 If you have no astrocartography lines passing through the country you lived for most of your life, you probably don't feel at home in that country and have always wanted to relocate to another country

🌍 When you have atleast 2 lines "conjuncting" each other through a certain country, the planet that is more dominant in your birth chart will have a higher effect in astrocartography

🌍 Mercury IC line can show where one of your siblings or cousins relocate at some point during their life

🌍 If you're a girl and you have daddy issues (hey, we don't judge here!!), travelling to Saturn DSC line will likely bring you lots of opportunities of meeting your perfect partner, but also harsh lessons regarding control in a relationship (this is a good line for you to heal your daddy issues)

🌍 If you want to meet your future spouse and you (personally) find international guys attractive, travelling to Jupiter DSC line is a very good idea. Your future spouse might also be a foreigner in that country, just like you :)

🌍 Sun ASC line shows you where you can find your life's purpose. Also your depression:📉📉 0%, while your happiness:📈📈 100% (unless your Sun is in your 8th or 12th house, then the mental health effect is the complete opposite)

🌍 You could give birth on your Moon IC line😳 or your mom could have given birth to you on that line

🌍 Venus ASC line shows you where you could take lots of pictures (of yourself, of the sightseeings). Also, where you could get diabetes where you will want to try every type of sweets you find there

🌍 You will either get very drunk, consume drugs or smoke some weird shit on your Neptune ASC line (pls take care of your health)

🌍 You could randomly meet an ex or someone who resembles your ex while travelling to your Chiron DSC line

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Noir Fiction

Noir fiction - a subset of the broader crime fiction genre.

Noir stories typically feature gritty urban settings, morally compromised protagonists, dark mysteries, and a bleak outlook on human nature.

Noir books and films noir frequently take the form of detective fiction (sometimes called hardboiled fiction), where the protagonists often work as private eyes or police detectives.

Whether or not they specifically concern detective work, works of noir fiction are fundamentally crime novels, short stories, and films.

The central action revolves around crimes that often contribute to the downfall of the protagonist or other sympathetic characters.

Common Characteristics of Noir Fiction

The noir genre, as practiced by literary authors and Hollywood screenwriters, often revolves around four key characteristics.

Enduring mystery: Nearly all noir novels are mystery stories. Protagonists struggle to track down the perpetrators of crimes, and this struggle often leads to their own personal peril. In many cases, these protagonists are detectives—as in the work of Raymond Chandler and Dashiell Hammett—but this is not a requirement of noir.

A femme fatale: Classic noir often features a femme fatale, a mysterious and seductive woman who uses her sex appeal to seduce and entrap her enemies.

Gritty urban settings: Like many works of mystery fiction, noir fiction slots nicely into the urban landscapes of twentieth-century America. West coast cities like Los Angeles and San Francisco are favorites of noir novelists, as is New York City.

Grim assessments of human nature: Although pulpy and driven by action and intrigue, many noir books are works of literary fiction that make statements on the human condition. In a great number of cases, those statements are bleak. From the villains to the protagonists to society itself, the world seems to conspire against good people in noir fiction.

Tips for Noir Fiction Writers

Consider your take on human despair. The characters in noir stories lead bleak lives. Their needs are rarely fulfilled and they often engage in self-destructive behavior. If you want to write in the noir subgenre, consider how you might interpret common themes of desperation and futility.

Create characters with major flaws. Whether by fate or by random circumstance, most noir protagonists end up leading themselves into more danger or disgrace as the story unfolds. Consider how you might create characters with fundamental flaws—addiction, greed, lust, vanity, naiveté—that might propel them into unfortunate situations.

Explore unique settings for your noir story. “Noir” is the French word for "black," but not all noir fiction occurs in the dark of night or the shadowy corners of a major city. You can set your noir story wherever you like so long as it embodies that essential grim outlook.

Examples of Noir Fiction

The Maltese Falcon by Dashiell Hammett (1930): This novel introduced the iconic hardboiled detective Sam Spade, who follows a trail of crimes involving a seemingly priceless statuette of a falcon. The mood is ever bleak and morality plays little role. The book was later adapted into a blockbuster film directed by John Huston and starring Humphrey Bogart.

The Big Sleep by Raymond Chandler (1939): Another hardboiled detective classic, The Big Sleep is set in Los Angeles. Chandler's detective Philip Marlowe takes on a blackmail case that nearly leads to his own demise. A World War II-era film adaptation, again starring Humphrey Bogart, led to box office success. Nearly sixty years after the book was published, the story received an amusing twist when it became the rough outline for the Coen Brothers' comedy noir The Big Lebowski.

Strangers on a Train by Patricia Highsmith (1950): Highsmith's debut novel inspired a famous Alfred Hitchcock film of the same name. True to its title, it involves two strangers who meet on a train and agree to "trade murders" so that each can be rid of someone in their lives with no suspected motive.

The Postman Always Rings Twice by James M. Cain (1934): Cain's noir story, which draws heavily from Emile Zola's 1868 novel Thérèse Raquin, focuses on a drifter named Frank with sociopathic tendencies. It involves a strange form of romance, but also shocking plot points that led to book bannings after its publication.

Queenpin by Megan Abbott (2007): A touchstone of contemporary noir fiction, Queenpin is actually a throwback to the golden age of the mafia, where illicit gambling ruled the day. Queenpin focuses on a ruthless mob veteran named Gloria and an unnamed young woman protagonist.

The Black Dahlia by James Ellroy (1987): The Black Dahlia is a contemporary noir novel that looks back in time for its subject matter. Revisiting the 1947 "black dahlia" murder in Los Angeles, protagonist Dwight "Bucky" Bleichert makes the ill-fated decision to join the LAPD and things go downhill from there. The Black Dahlia is the first in Ellroy's "L.A. Quartet," a series of neo-noir books where corruption reigns, human nature fails, and happy endings are in short supply.

They Shoot Horses, Don't They? by Horace McCoy (1935): Horace McCoy's noir novel is a testament to broken Hollywood dreams, infidelity, rejection, and painful quests for glory. While it involves crime, it largely steers clear of police and detectives. It heaps all the misery of a painful noir premise onto its everyman protagonist Robert and his companion Gloria.

Source ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[kidcosky]

It's strange to think that Kaito is the only one in this story who shouldn't have anything to do with any of this. He's not like the other Gosho Boys, who always wanted to be a detective or also, he doesn't have a relative who works for the police. A normal boy with a normal life, who thought his father had died in an accident and tried to move on from it, but ends up discovering that he lived a lie for 8 years, that his father was an internationally wanted thief and was murdered when he refused to look for a precious stone.

So Kaito enters this world of police and criminal organizations just to find out who killed his father, prevent someone bad from finding Pandora and take revenge by helping the police capture the criminals. But even if he treats it like it's nothing, he's slowly breaking down, it's exhausting and progress is almost minimal. I'm looking forward to film 27 precisely because Kaito won't be as positive as always, he's reaching his limit...

Kaito knows that Pandora might actually just be a legend but he keeps searching for why his father 'died' because of this. He devises complex plans, constantly risks his life and handles everything alone. Shinichi got support, he has Heiji, Agasa, Haibara, his own parents and everyone who knows his secret identity but Kaito has no one but Jii, not even his mother helps him (even though she knows more things than him) quite the opposite, she rarely shows genuine support, barely talks to him and is always distant and beyond that (it seems) in the last episode of Magic Kaito 1412, it was she who disguised herself using Toichi's image to shake Kaito, no matter what kind of intention did she have... That was cruel.

He's already gotten too involved to give up and pretend that nothing happened, that he doesn't know any of this, it's complicated and Jii can't stop him from putting himself at risk. Kaito doesn't like stealing, he says that sometimes but he's someone who is very stubborn and unaware of the danger, when he gets it into his head that he has to solve all this, he won't stop until he succeeds.

And even though a lot of people hate him, he never lowers his head or stops helping, he helps the police, prevents people from dying and always tries to put a smile on someone's face regardless of who they are. It's ironic to think that this pervert is such a pure-hearted person, that he feels guilty for not being able to save someone who had tried to kill him moments before...

[yuujispinkhair]

Cold Case, Hot Detective

When the police declare the mysterious disappearance of your husband a cold case, you hire a private detective to discover the truth. Shiu Kong says he is the best man for this job, and admittedly, he is not just excellent at investigating cold cases but also at heating things up when his discoveries lead to you looking for comfort in his arms.

Pairing: Shiu Kong x Reader (female) Genre: smut + fluff Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: 18+ smut, fingering, praise, mentions of masturbation, smoking, sharing a cigarette. A bit of forbidden romance trope, reader develops a crush on Shiu during the investigation but only acts on it after discovering her husband left her. All characters are of age. This story is 18+ Minors don't interact.

You stop in front of the small private detective agency, eyeing it warily. It looks exactly like you imagined a place like this to look like. As if you are in some film noir. A small office on a shady side street crammed between a takeout shop and a dry cleaner's. But the small room you step into a moment later is surprisingly clean and tidy. Just like the man greeting you with a raised eyebrow.

Shiu Kong was recommended to you by a close friend. Apparently, he is the best at finding lost things and people. He sits behind his polished desk, a neatly stacked pile of case files in front of him, looking much more handsome and posh than you imagined a man in his line of work to be.

He is wearing an immaculate-looking black suit with a white dress shirt and a black tie. His short hair is styled in an attractive modern way. If you had to guess his age, you would say he is in his late thirties. A pair of intelligent-looking, narrowed dark eyes meet yours across the room. His lips are wrapped around a half-smoked cigarette, explaining the smell of smoke you could already sense before entering his small office. In here, your nose also picks up another scent. An expensive, fresh, and masculine smell, probably his aftershave. Sexy.

You smile politely at him, introducing yourself and explaining your concern shortly. You tell him about your husband, who disappeared without a trace six months ago. About the police telling you they found no new leads and would stop investigating. Declaring the disappearance a cold case and telling you with a pitiful look that sometimes people just leave and don't want to be found.

Mr. Kong watches you interestedly, taking a slow drag from his cigarette as you finish your story. He blows out the smoke and straightens up in his chair, looking amused when he says,

"Ah, I see. You want me to do the police's job."

You feel your face heat up and quickly scramble to explain that no, of course, you trust the police to do their job right... It's just that... But he interrupts you politely,

"Please, don't worry. It is my job to do things like these. No shame about it at all. The police tends to drop cases like these too easily. However, I have certain connections that allow me a better assessment of the situation. So, let me summarize it. Basically, we have a typical case of "Honey, I'm getting some cigarettes," only for the husband to never be seen again. Is that correct?"

His gaze is intense, brown eyes with gray flecks, looking at you as if he is trying to read your mind. A detective's gaze. You avert your eyes, feeling shame flood your veins once again. It's embarrassing to admit it out loud. But he is right. Your husband just left one day and never came back. No signs of a crime, no indication that something happened to him.

You nod as you watch his long elegant fingers tap his cigarette on the glass ashtray standing on his desk,

"Yes, that is correct."

"Then you came to the right man. I am experienced, thorough, and discreet. If someone can find your missing husband, it is me."

He smiles reassuringly at you and points at the wall behind him that is lined with thank you letters from former clients. You nod and smile gratefully at him.

You leave his office half an hour later with a copy of a signed contract in your pocket and a good feeling in your gut. Yes, Shiu Kong seems like the best man for this job. Experienced and professional.

And, as a small voice in your head whispers to you, it also doesn't hurt that he is incredibly charming and sexy. A true gentleman. A private detective that could have stepped out of a noir romance novel. Tall, dark, and handsome.

You are back in his office two days later, delivering the additional documents he requested. He smokes his obligatory cigarette, going through the case file with you and explaining which steps he plans to take.

You nod gratefully at him,

"Thank you so much, Mr. Kong."

A smile plays around his lips,

"Please call me Shiu."

Your pulse flutters at that, but it gets even worse when his narrow warm brown eyes look at you inquiringly,

"Let me ask you something: Why do you want to find your husband? Is it out of love? Or is it because you need him to provide for you? Or is it for revenge?"

It catches you by surprise, and you squirm in your seat,

"Um...is this relevant to the case?"

He laughs, low and soft, his eyes glittering amusedly as he shakes his head,

"No, I am just curious. It comes with the job. I am constantly confronted with people's dark side and their deepest secrets. That makes you develop a certain curiosity, I guess. You don't have to answer."

But before you can think twice, you find yourself confessing everything to him, all the things that were obvious to everyone around you but no one ever dared say out loud, not even you. You don't know what it is about this man that makes you spill all your darkest secrets, all the things you are ashamed of.

"It's a marriage of convenience. I was young and needed the money, and he liked having a young wife he could parade around and who depends on him."

You cringe at those words, sounding like the biggest cliche. But Shiu just chuckles good-naturedly,

"Please, don't be ashamed. It makes perfect sense. A lot of marriages exist for that reason."

He winks at you, making your heart skip a beat at how attractive he looks. He leans closer, looking deeply into your eyes when he continues,

"I already suspected something along those lines. A guy like him could never pull a woman like you otherwise."

You feel your heart flutter at his words. At the apparent flirty nature of his comment and the way his gaze trails slowly over your body. You know you should be offended. You know you should get up and leave. You should tell him his behavior isn't very professional.

But you don't. Instead, you can't help but feel flattered at his comment.

When you leave an hour later, he accompanies you to the door with a hand on the small of your back, gently steering you toward the exit. You can smell the cigarette smoke on his clothes and his sexy aftershave. You even imagine you can feel his body heat when he is standing so close to you, his body just shy of pressing against yours.

You lift your head to look up at his handsome face, noticing how tall he is and how incredibly attractive he looks in his fine suit and the confident little smirk on his face.

He opens the door for you like a true gentleman, telling you to get home safely.

Shiu keeps you updated about his investigations at all times.

He calls you in the evening when you are already in bed, apologizing for the late call, making you feel strangely flustered because you are only wearing a flimsy lacy nightdress, and his low voice sounds almost seductive over the phone. It makes you picture sitting on his lap while he trails kisses over the low neckline of your nightdress, the stubble of his thin mustache scratching lightly over your sensitive skin.

You feel guilty for the sound of his name falling from your lips when you come undone on your fingers a while later, hiding your burning face in your pillows.

You should get him out of your mind. You really should. But it's hard when he is so charming and caring. When he is the first person in over six months who really takes you seriously and is willing to help you.

You meet him in a fancy restaurant for lunch, where he shows you pictures of a surveillance camera of a casino, clearly showing your husband. Shiu tells you about his contacts in dubious places. Tells you about illegal gambling, the Yakuza, and big money. When your eyes widen in worry, his hand lands on yours, his thumb caressing your wrist soothingly.

He insists on driving you home, making your pulse flutter nervously because he looks so sexy next to you, with one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting casually on the open window, a cigarette between his fingers.

You can't remember the last time someone gave you butterflies just from driving in a car with them. You don't know why this man makes you feel like a teenager on your first date.

But when he turns his head to look at you and offers you a small smile, you can't deny how attracted you are to him. How much you want him, even if it is wrong.

He parks his car in front of your apartment and walks over to the passenger side to hold the door open for you and offer you a strong arm. Does he know that he makes your knees go weak with this? Does he know his charming smile and politeness make you feel light-headed?

You don't know what's gotten into you when you step closer to press your body against his side and kiss his cheek, muttering a thank you before you quickly walk to the entrance of your apartment complex, practically fleeing the scene with your heels clacking loudly on the pavement and not daring to look back.

You lie awake in bed for hours that night, haunted by a sexy grin and the smell of cigarette smoke.

Unbidden, the same thoughts repeat in your head over and over again: What if Shiu finds your husband? What then? Do you even want him to come back? Wouldn't it be better if he just stayed missing?

A week later, you find yourself once again in Shiu's private detective agency, wringing your hands in your lap as you listen to him explain gently how your husband won a lot of money in one of his illegal gambling events, how he booked two plane tickets afterward, leaving the country with a young woman on his arm, with no intention of returning.

You feel nauseous. Part of you wished your husband wouldn't come back, but you can't help but feel crushed anyway. Hurt, anger, and worry wash over you.

Hurt that your husband just replaced you. That you weren't enough. Maybe not young enough anymore? Not attractive enough? Anger that he just left without a single word. Why didn't he just file for divorce if he didn't want you anymore? Worry how you will fare now. You are dependent on your husband's money. What will happen to you now? You need to get a divorce to make sure you get alimony. But the thought of everything you must do for this overwhelms you. You feel tears gather in your eyes.

Shiu stops in the middle of his report, grayish-brown eyes watching you worriedly. His voice is gentle when he asks,

"Are you ok?"

Your lips tremble, and you shake your head, unable to form any words. The first tears run down your cheeks. You can see Shiu's handsome face soften as he looks at you.

He reaches across the desk to cup your cheek and gently wipes your tears away. His hand is soft and warm, feeling so comforting on your skin. It's a touch so gentle that you instinctively lean into it, so starved for affection. It has been years since someone touched you like this.

Shiu looks deeply into your eyes, watching you closely, his voice soft like a caress,

"Please don't be sad, sweetheart. That man didn't deserve you."

More tears well up in your eyes, not even because of your husband's betrayal but because Shiu is so nice to you. And a moment later, you are out of your chair and practically fling yourself at Shiu. He catches you, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you onto his lap.

He smells so good when you bury your face in his shoulder and cry into his suit jacket. His arms feel so comforting around your body, holding you securely and gently, one hand slowly caressing your back. His low voice is gentle and soothing when he murmurs,

"Please don't cry, sweetheart. Tell me what I can do for you. Tell me what I can do to make it better."

Your voice doesn't sound like your own when you say,

"Just make it go away, please. Make me feel good, please. I just... I just want to be held and feel...feel loved."

You cringe at how dumb you sound. So naive. So pathetic. Begging this guy, your business partner, for affection or sex, or whatever it is you want.

But Shiu doesn't laugh. He doesn't mock you or turn you down. Instead, his hand that was rubbing soothing circles on your back is suddenly on your thigh, warm fingers sprawling over your skin.

The touch of his skin on yours is like an electric jolt, buzzing through your body, making your pulse race and your head spin. Rekindling a fire in you that you never thought you would feel again. It has been years since someone's touch did this to you. And you know you need more of it. You need more of this sexy man who was so nice to you all those weeks.

You press yourself against him, your right hand coming up to run up his neck and into his hair, lips breathing a soft "more" against the side of his neck.

Shiu's warm hand caresses your inner thigh, slowly moving higher. Your breath hitches in your throat, but you open your legs for him, showing him this is what you want.

"Shiu..."

"Yes, let me take care of you, darling."

His voice sounds husky as his warm fingers slip under your skirt. You whine when those fingers reach your panties and brush over them, making your pussy twitch with a need you haven't felt in years. Shiu's thumb finds your clit and teases it lovingly, rubbing it slowy through the thin fabric, making your legs open sluttily as a shaky moan falls from your lips.

You bury your burning face in his suit jacket, inhaling his sexy scent, cigarette smoke, and expensive aftershave, clinging desperately to him. And he keeps massaging your swollen clit through your now wet panties, sending you higher and higher, head spinning and heart racing.

"You like that, sweetheart?"

You are putty in his hands, nodding wildly and sobbing an embarrassed,

"Y...yes...Shiu."

Your hips buck uncontrollably, and you push against his hand almost desperately, rubbing yourself against his thumb, craving his touch, needy for more, jerking when his thumb prods your little sensitive bud so good that your whole body feels on fire.

His voice is gentle, laced with desire when he says,

"Look at me. Let me see your pretty face. Please don't hide from me. I want to see how you like what I'm doing to you."

Something about his tone, the mix of gentleness and dominance, makes your toes curl, and you do as he says, lifting your face off his shoulder and looking straight at him.

Letting him see your face, letting him see the need in your eyes, letting him see the obscene way your mouth opens as a loud moan falls from your lips when he rubs more slow circles around your clit, filling the small office room with the wet sound of your arousal.

It sounds naughty. It feels forbidden what the two of you are doing. But it's the hottest thing you have ever experienced. Sitting on this sexy man's lap in his office, with his hand under your skirt, his fingers caressing you through your panties, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

And suddenly, you find yourself being bold, letting go of your former shame. You reach down to grab the silky fabric of your panties and pull them to the side, exposing yourself to Shiu, whining his name when he grins at you and gently flicks his thumb over your clit again, this time skin on skin, spreading your cream over your puffy needy bud, massaging it thoroughly. You buck against his thumb as if you are in heat, nails digging into his back as you chase after what you know will be a mind-blowing orgasm.

All thoughts of your husband's betrayal have left your mind when Shiu pampers your pussy like that, so loving, so good, taking care of you in a way you have never known in your marriage.

His middle finger teases your creamy hole, slipping in and out slowly, just the fingertip, until you mewl loudly and push onto his finger needily, begging him for more.

And he gives it to you. Warm gray-brown eyes watch you intently as he pushes his finger deep into your wet heat, making you gasp loudly and spread your legs even wider. You ride his finger unashamedly, moaning shakily when Shiu rubs against that sweet spot inside you.

A second finger joins the first one, making you cry out in pleasure. Your eyes close as you give yourself completely to him, letting his strong arms hold you while he fucks you with his middle finger and ring finger, and his thumb caresses your clit.

Your needy moans and the wet sounds of your pussy getting fucked fill the small office, and Shiu's lips trail soft kisses over the side of your neck, murmuring against your skin in that sexy low voice,

"Hmm, yes, like that, sweet thing. Let go, baby. Just let go and cum all over me."

It's his words that make you tumble over the edge, crying out shakily as your orgasm washes over you, strong and deep, your cunt clenching around Shiu's fingers, your juices flowing down his long fingers and his wrist.

He fucks you through it, his fingers gently massaging the spot inside you that makes you see stars, rubbing every last wave of orgasm out of you while whispering sexy encouragements to you,

"Yes, you're such a good girl. Cumming so sweetly for me. Yeah, my sweet thing, just like that."

You collapse bonelessly against him, sobbing and whining from the overwhelming feeling of cumming so hard. And Shiu slowly lets his fingers slip out of you, but his thumb stays pressed against your swollen clit, massaging it tenderly, making your body twitch from the overstimulation.

It's you who grabs his handsome face with both hands and pulls him into a passionate kiss, licking hungrily into his mouth, tasting whiskey and cigarettes and chewing gum on his tongue, moaning into his mouth while he keeps playing with your sensitive clit, and your pussy pulses hotly with the aftershocks of the orgasm he gifted to you.

He kisses you like you haven't been kissed in years, tongue flicking tenderly against yours, deep and slow, his lips moving firmly but gently against yours, making your head spin and your heart race. His thumb rubs a few times more over your clit before he lets go and pulls your panties neatly into place again.

His lips remain close enough to brush against yours when he whispers huskily,

"See, you don't need your loser of a husband. I can take very good care of you, too, darling."

"You have already taken better care of me today than he has in all those years of our marriage."

Shiu raises an eyebrow, a handsome smirk lighting up his face,

"Oh, is that so? Well, in that case, you'll be surprised what else I can do for you. Will you give me a chance to show you?"

His gray-brown eyes observe you carefully. You smile and nod, filled with joy that he wants to see you again, that he wants more than just a short fling.

"Of course. I would love for you to show me everything you can do for me."

Shiu laughs softly and lets go of your thigh to reach behind you and grab his cigarette pack from his desk. He brings one cigarette to his lips, lighting it while he looks at you,

"So my new case will be to mend your broken heart and take proper care of you. It's a pro bono case, of course."

He exhales the cigarette smoke slowly into your face, never averting his gaze as he watches you through the smoke with a grin on his handsome face. Does he know how fast your heart is beating when you imagine what your life with him will be like?

A smile spreads over your face as you reach out and steal the cigarette from his mouth and slowly bring it to your lips. You take a long drag, grinning when you return the favor and blow the smoke into Shiu's face.

"You are hired, Detective Kong."

AAAHHHH I REALLY WROTE SOMETHING FOR HIM!!!

When I read that Shiu used to be a detective, I immediately pictured him as one of those cool private investigators, and yeah, I HAD to write him in that role. Thank you so much to @blueparadis for encouraging me to write this! I had a lot of fun, and I am happy to contribute to the love for this man!

I listened to Taylor Swift's "Reputation" album on repeat while writing this story, and I think the vibe and the lyrics of those songs fit Shiu and this story very well. My heart was definitely beating faster :)

I hope you enjoyed this sexy little story! Please let me know what you think. Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.

[neptuneiris]

Behind the Scenes (02/05)

Behind the Revelation

pairing: actor!aemond × fem!reader

summary: after running away for second time, the past returns and you force yourself to remember as Aemond demands explanations.

word counter: 9.3k

previous part • next part • series masterlist

warnings: language, angst, discussion, mention of abortion, aemond being a dick.

Aemond remembers perfectly well the moment you disappeared from his life without warning.

It was precisely after his manager and all his team left your apartment once everything was clear and somehow "solved", on the same day you let him know that you were expecting his child.

He stayed a moment longer with you, comforting you and wanting to be there for you, to make you understand that you were not alone and that despite everything, he would be there supporting you and would not leave your side, ever.

But unfortunately he never knew what was really tormenting your mind. He didn't realize how hurt you were when you both made the decision.

And he didn't realize at the time what an idiot he was to you and the bad decisions he made. He only realized after you left, without warning and without a trace, as if you never existed in his life.

Stress, frustration, worry and anguish clung to him, thinking he would go mad, and he quickly turned to Criston and his entire team for help.

At first, worry gripped him. He thought something bad had happened to you when messages didn't reach you and when you called, your number was forwarded straight to the mailbox.

He asked your makeup partners about you, but none of them had any relevant information. They had only seen you the same day you told him the news.

Your disappearance, however, was not convenient for Criston, who needed to know your condition, to know about the baby.

However, when you were reported missing to the police, it was only a matter of time before they discovered that you had, in fact, run away.

He learned that you had spoken to the owner of your apartment to inform him that you would no longer be living there and also that you had quit your job. You never revealed your reasons, you simply handed in your resignation and left.

As the pieces fell into place, Aemond realized that he could not ignore reality. Your expression, described by everyone who had seen you one last time, was the same: deep circles under your eyes, a face marked by fatigue, eyes swollen with tears and sadness.

And Aemond, try as he might, could not accept it.

After you left, he pushed his entire team to find some clue to your whereabouts. He used all the resources his celebrity status afforded him, keeping a small police back-up, hiring private detectives and even trying to locate your parents, but it was all to no avail.

You simply vanished along with his child in your womb.

And Aemond could do little more than immerse himself in his thoughts, in despair and worry as he found nothing of you.

Days turned into weeks and weeks into months, while Aemond persisted in his search without success. In those moments he didn't care about his work, he only fulfilled the filming time of some projects, avoiding interviews, red carpets and any other public activity.

Until it was only a matter of time before in the midst of his misery, he was forced to return to the recording studios and face the cameras, continue with his work, but all the time his mind was focused on you.

Between takes and script lines, you were always on his mind and what you had once been.

He wanted nothing more than to see you, to touch you and hold you tight against him, not wanting to let you go, to apologize for his behavior and beg you not to leave him, regretting over and over again that he had kept you hidden, that he had allowed so much of his work to affect you both.

And every time someone did his makeup and fixed his wardrobe, he couldn't stop thinking about you, wishing, longing for it to be you and no one else.

His one nights were only worse, he couldn't sleep and got caught in a whirlwind of his own mind, questioning himself over and over again:

Why did you run away?

He knows his behavior wasn't the best but why? Why not give him an explanation?

He could only continue to stare at a spot on his ceiling while guilt and remorse invaded him, recognizing his own mistakes, the decision he made and the one he convinced you too carry out, a selfish decision for his own benefit that now takes its toll on him.

And there in the restlessness of his luxurious apartment on Visenya Hill, Aemond is alone with his thoughts.

And he couldn't help but imagine you in scenarios you never shared, of both of you holding a little person you both created in your most intimate moments, probably with his characteristics or yours as well.

But every time he imagined it, he could see a little boy or girl with silver hair and blue eyes, making him smile softly with sadness and with his eye full of tears.

But he didn't even know if his child was still in your womb or if you had made the decision you refused to make at first. And he couldn't help but wonder, among the same questions that always torment his mind:

Where are you?

Are you all right?

Why did you run away?

Did you decide to have the baby?

Did you find support somewhere?

He just didn't know and that frustrated him too much, not knowing if you were even okay, staying in uncertainty and worry, longing to find you, to see you and know what happened.

And those same questions haunt his mind when he sees you again after almost two years. The face he desperately searched for so long is finally there, a few steps away from him, watching him with the same surprise and disbelief he feels, unable to assimilate reality.

But when you decide to escape for the second time, it is as if he receives a blow to the stomach, stripping him of all the air in his lungs.

He is paralyzed, unable to move, as he faces the reality that you are finally there, in front of him, after almost two years of searching without success.

His heart beats with overwhelming intensity and a persistent echo of confusion and surprise resounds in his mind. It is a moment when reality and emotions intertwine in a way that is almost unbearable for him.

Why did you run away?

I'm sorry!

I miss you!

But he remains motionless, as his brain tries to process the wave of emotions that threaten to drown him.

But not just from seeing you again, but from remembering every moment he shared with you, every laugh, every caress, every one night they spent together, all overwhelming him.

The need to understand, to discover the truth, engulfs him completely. And without hesitation, an inner voice screams in his head, "Move, you idiot!"

Everything seemed to crumble around him, with questions echoing back into his mind, unanswered questions. And thanks to that, a spark ignites, pulling him out of his paralysis: despair.

And that is the call to action that drives you to react immediately, determined not to let you escape again.

Every step he takes is charged with urgency, an urgency to get answers, to know what happened with a tight lump in his throat, especially at the thought of the baby.

Everything at that moment seems overwhelming, but his desire to know, or rather his need to understand your escape and to know what happened to his child, eclipses all other considerations, filling him with worry and longing.

The thought of that little being that would have been a fusion of the two of them envelops him in desperate confusion.

The vision of a part of him and you floating in the air like a faded dream haunts his mind, asking himself questions about whether you decided to go through with the pregnancy or not.

Aemond advances through the corridors of the studio with a totally worried look on his face, desperately looking everywhere to find you. And in the distance, he spots your running figure and instantly rushes after you, determined not to let you out of his sight.

You both plunge into a busy atmosphere, where you hear the subtle sound of indicator lights and the distant hum of electronic equipment.

And there you were, trying to run away from it all, with your trembling figure, having an emotional breakdown and tears streaming down your cheeks, while Aemond with desperation in his eyes, tries to catch up with you.

"Y/N, wait!"

His voice, piercing and close, only manages to increase your anxiety. You try to move away from him, desperate to evade him, willing him to lose sight of you while you don't stop.

"Wait!" he shouts in desperation, pleading.

But you can't. You don't want to and you can't face this. Not now. Not when you thought you'd never see him again.

Aemond rushes towards you, reaching for you, grabbing your arm tightly and stopping your steps, scaring you. He turns your body towards him, watching you with desperation and need, instantly catching the tears and suffering on your face.

"No!" you exclaim with concern, trying to free yourself, "No, please, let me go!"

"Y/N—" he begins to say, confused and worried, breathing agitatedly.

"Let go of me, Aemond!" you demand.

You manage to wriggle free of his grip, straining to keep your distance from each other, avoiding any contact, but he grabs your arm again, stopping you and showing irritation.

"Can't you wait a fucking minute!?" he hisses at you, annoyed, though the pain lingers in his gaze, "How do you expect me to let you go like this!? After everything that happened—

"I don't want to talk to you!" you sentence, the pain palpable in every word.

"Y/N, please," he begs you, his voice taking on a sad melody.

Her eyes search yours, desperately seeking understanding in the midst of the emotional storm you both face.

Your chest pounds with a mixture of pain and confusion, where again you try to break free from his grip, but he gives your arm a firmer grip, preventing you from pulling away, firm and resistant to your efforts.

"I told you to let me go!" you shout angrily, crying.

"Why do you keep running away!?" he demands to know, his voice annoyed, full of confusion and pain, "We need to talk and you know it! I need to understand!"

You remain silent, your gaze fixed on his face and your eyes filled with tears, as Aemond feels all his emotions threatening to boil over.

"What happened?" he demands to know, hurt, without letting go, looking for an answer in your gaze, "Where did you go?"

Again you remain silent, feeling the lump in your throat, as the tension between the two of you is palpable and the held breath of both of you is in anticipation, waiting.

"Why did you disappear?"

He insists, completely frustrated and insistent.

"I've been looking for you all this time and I could never find you. I never knew who to ask where you were or where to try to find you."

Nothing.

You say absolutely nothing.

Aemond's hand trembles slightly as he gently releases you from one of your arms, but his determination and insistence did not waver.

"Talk to me, please," he pleads, "I need to know."

And the whole moment only becomes more intense when he mentions your son.

"W-what… what happened to our child?"

A silent pain crosses your face, but your lips remain sealed, trembling slightly. Frustration increased in Aemond's chest as he receives no response from you and it also makes his anger increase.

"What happened to him, Y/N?" he snaps, his patience reaching its limit.

And you, still trembling from all this, find yourself caught in the vortex of it all, your eyes reddened, your gaze hard and hurt, where you couldn't find the courage to answer the questions accusing you.

And Aemond, for his part, let the anger and resentment flow like a raging tide against you.

"How could you just walk away? Disappear without a word?" he says, his voice carrying with it the weight of betrayal he feels, "I was willing to help you. I-I thought we could get through this together, but you just took off, left me and vanished as if you never existed."

His every word echoes around you, the accusation hangs heavy in the air, and you, feeling the courage flowing through your veins, decide to answer him with the same intensity.

"Help me?" you repeat, earnest and hurt, "Oh, right, you mean that 'help' you were planning to offer by not acknowledging your own child publicly and legally so as not to ruin your career?"

The words leave your lips with a cutting tone, like a sharp blade aimed straight at his heart, where surprise flashes all over Aemond's face, as if that revelation had come as an unexpected blow, even though he already knew.

And before he can articulate a response, you continue, your voice echoing with pain, annoyance and defiance.

"I left so I wouldn't ruin your career, whether I had the baby or not. Because if I had an abortion, eventually the media would know, right?" you inquire regretfully, "But that's not exactly why I left," you clarify, "What other choice did I have if I decided to have it? Hide with my child until you decided the time was right? Live in the shadows while you enjoyed the spotlight?"

The recording set, even with its cinematic sounds and the frenetic activity of those working on it, now resonates with the clash of arguments and emotional charge unleashed between him and you.

And he, still processing the raw truth being revealed to him, tries to defend himself, but you don't give him a chance.

"I stand by my decisions, Aemond. I wasn't going to be a prisoner to anyone's expectations, even if it was you," you spit, your gaze still pained but defiant. "You weren't going to acknowledge your child for the sake of your career, at least not in his early years or who knows after how long. And what was the benefit if you did it later? We would finally see the light after all we would have gone through with your manager and your whole team to keep saving your reputation?"

Your words float in the air, creating a dense silence that fills the space between the two of you.

Despite the raw, exposed emotional wounds, Aemond desperately searches for words that might calm the intensity of the moment somewhat. However, neither you nor he can deny the truth, as it becomes clear that you are right.

But still, with a lump in his throat, he tries to defend himself with a vulnerability you haven't seen in him in a long time, exactly since you let him know of your pregnancy.

"I didn't mean to… I-I… I didn't know how to handle it," he mumbles, his expression reflecting confusion and remorse.

You sniffle and let a couple more tears fall down your cheeks, your eyes full of pain but also determination.

"That's the thing. You always thought about your career, your image, but what about us?" you ask him in your broken voice, "What truly mattered most?"

The question echoes between the two of you, leaving Aemond without a convincing answer.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, looking at you with regret, "I shouldn't have done that, I know," he tells you honestly, "I shouldn't have let Criston and the others interfere too much. But…" he sighs, "I-it wasn't easy for me."

And you, undeterred, feel disbelief wash over you and reply bitterly.

"It wasn't easy for you?" you repeat, "And what about me?" you inquire, "Did you ever think about what it would be like to put yourself in my shoes?"

"Y/N—

"You only thought about yourself, just like everyone else, while I also had to think about everyone else but me," you say hurt, "And I didn't want to cause you any more trouble. I had to have, raise and care for my son all by myself."

The revelation hits Aemond like a bolt of lightning, his eyes widen in shock and disbelief, staring at you in disbelief.

"A son?" he repeats in a whisper, taking it in.

You stare at him for a moment, not understanding, but after you realize that in all this time you have told him nothing concrete about your son, you see the realization all over his gaze, that regret and longing.

You let out a long breath as you look away from him for a moment and bring one of your hands to wipe away your tears, feeling that sharp pain in your chest.

While Aemond, he really couldn't say a single word that could ease the pain he has caused you.

"Y/N, I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice barely audible, "I was selfish, I didn't think correctly."

"No, because you only thought of yourself and I faced everything alone. I didn't want to cause you trouble or be a burden, I decided it was better not to drag you into this for your career, so as not to affect your life, so I decided to leave. And I don't want to affect you now either."

You say as you begin to back away and Aemond, feeling the ground crumble beneath him, again stops you.

"Y/N, please, we can fix this, just… don't leave, not again," he pleads with you, his gaze full of anguish as he urges you to stay.

"There is nothing to fix," you tell him with hopelessness in your voice, completely broken, "Your life remains the same and my only priority is my son."

"He's my son too!" he exclaims, frustration and annoyance creeping into his voice. "You think I don't want to know him, take care of him and do the right thing? Of course I do!"

He, glassy-eyed, tries to make you understand by looking at your face, but you can't.

You can't and you don't want to.

"But, Aemond, it's not just that," you whisper, your voice cracking. "Your career, your life, it's still the same. And I don't want my son to live under the gaze of the entire press, making speculations about you and me. Nor do I want you to feel obligated to be a part of his life out of guilt."

He, feeling helpless, tries to hug you, but you pull away, but he again with his worried look full of determination, holds you again.

"No Y/N, I swear it's not like that, I promise," he clarifies to you, sad, "And this is not only for our son, but also for you. I want to be a part of your life, his life."

The dilemma hung in the air, the tension between the two of you forming an invisible barrier. And you, with tear-filled eyes, know this is not possible.

"I can't," you whisper to him in your broken voice.

And despite this, he doesn't give up, rather he persists with words laden with pain and determination.

"I know I made mistakes and that I failed you, but I'm not going to let this go and you must know that."

His words send a shiver down your spine and you feel the urge to scream at him to leave you alone, that everything is already done, that he can't just come and change something that is already built between you and your son.

And before you can respond, a production assistant rushes over.

You understand that you made the mistake of running away and not informing him absolutely nothing about what happened with you and his son.

But at least you're right about one thing now: you don't want your son to become the next entertainment in magazines and all the media, in case Aemond decides to publicly acknowledge him just to make amends.

"Mr. Targaryen, we need you to finalize your makeup and wardrobe. The producer is upset because the scenes are about to shoot," the concerned man announces, interrupting the intensity of the moment.

Aemond, without taking his eye off you, nods with a mechanical gesture.

"I'll be there in a second," he replies, but his attention remains anchored on you.

The man persists, trying to make him understand the urgency of the situation, but Aemond is unwilling to let you go. His gaze, full of pleading and determination, watches you intently.

"Please don't go. Wait for me to finish rolling so we can go somewhere else and talk," he pleads in his voice laden with urgency.

And you feeling caught between the intensity of the situation, you inhale deeply, feeling the man's annoyed and desperate gaze on you as well as on him.

"Fine," you say without emotion.

"Fine?" he repeats, thinking maybe he has misheard.

"Fine," you affirm.

He nods gratefully and his gaze reflects both relief and gratitude.

"I promise I'll try to finish soon," he states softly, his voice with determination.

You don't say anything back, only he finally turns away from you but his eye continues to watch you longingly and intently, as if he fears you're going to vanish again right there.

And as he begins to walk away, you inevitably dive into memories of the past, reliving both the good times and the bad times you shared with him, as Aemond wishes today's shooting would come to an end so he could get close to you again.

However, once he is no longer in your sight, nor you in his, the weight of remorse becomes evident in your chest.

Although you told him to stay and talk to him later, you find yourself unable to do so. And you quickly make your way to the nursery, take your son in your arms and leave the film set without wasting another second.

You are truly sorry for him, but this is necessary. All you want at this moment is to protect your son and also your broken heart.

ALMOST 2 YEARS AGO

"We need to approach this with caution."

Criston Cole speaks, completely serious and as he paces around the living room of your apartment, you sitting on the couch and Aemond standing with an attentive and anxious look to him.

"And there's no need for us all to make fools of ourselves, we know the most viable option at this point is an abortion."

This immediately grabs your attention, watching Criston with your eyes wide as Aemond beside him frowns and stares at him in confused disbelief.

"An abortion?"

"I'm sorry, Aemond, but your image is everything," he tells him seriously, "A pregnancy at this time will affect your career," he explains, "Right now you are supposed to be in a relationship with Cerelle Lannister and how do you think people are going to react when they find out about this?"

"We would have to make confidentiality agreements if you decide to accompany her to the clinic," his publicist speaks, "Deny rumors and manage your public image."

"But if she decides to go into the clinic on her own, it won't be so complicated," speaks a man on her PR team.

"And an abortion at home?" suggests Criston, as if it's the easiest and most normal thing in the world.

"An abortion at home is not the best, it will be more difficult and anything can go wrong. The safest thing is the clinic."

You all start talking about different techniques to preserve Aemond's reputation, which is his job, while you stand there among everyone in silence, horrified at the thought of an abortion and overwhelmed by the magnitude of the decisions they are suggesting around you.

You look at Aemond completely panicked and looking for his support, but he is completely focused on his team.

"And how could we hide it? I mean, how exactly would that be handled if I decided to accompany her to the clinic?"

Disbelief washes over you completely, watching him confused and hurt.

He can't seriously consider—

"We'll implement a diversionary strategy on your behalf, like a charity event with attention-diverting photo shoots where we can work with some media to make sure the news prevails," the woman explains, "All while she goes through the process and you accompany her."

"If you are going with her to the clinic you must be completely covered," Criston tells him, "I will form a security team for you, we will lock down the entire clinic so that only she is attended to and so no one can recognize you."

"The best thing to do would be to create confidentiality contracts," suggests the same guy from before.

"Yeah, do that," Criston points out, "No one can know about this, not even the production company or your family, Aemond, you know what I mean?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he asks annoyed, "How do you expect me not to tell my mother about this? Y/N's parents don't live here, she doesn't even talk to them and we need that kind of support," he says incredulously.

"Do you want this to come to light by accident?" he asks between his teeth, "It doesn't matter that it's your family, no one can know, besides all this could have been avoided if both of you and especially you had been more responsible," he reproaches him.

You listen as Aemond speaks again, but you don't pay attention anymore, you just keep silent, observing the emptiness with tears falling down your cheeks.

All while around you they keep talking about more strategies, while you, you feel that you are the spectator of your own life, feeling hopeless, sad and scared.

And that's when Aemond finally notices your state and his gaze changes, looking at you with concern and understanding, feeling like an idiot for not knowing what you want to do. You haven't even been given the option to abort, just everyone and he has already decided for you.

"No, wait," he says serious and firm, stopping his entire team, to quickly turn to you, kneeling down and taking your hands in his, "Hey, darling," he looks at you worriedly, wiping the tears from your cheeks with his thumb, "Are you okay?"

You blink softly as you lower your gaze, trying to chase away your tears but it is impossible, while the eyes of the others also watch you, where finally your voice has space in the conversation, but you look at him hurt and worried.

"Do you really want me to do this?" you ask him with your voice completely broken.

"You need to think about what's best for both of you," Criston answers you instead, "This is an accident, it's not planned, neither you nor he wanted this to happen, so the best option is an abortion."

"B-but I'm scared," you say weakly.

"And you must not only think of yourself, you must also think of him and his career."

"That's enough," he says annoyed turning to Criston rudely and annoyed, "Didn't you hear her? She's scared and she's not having a voice here. She has as much right to decide what to do as I do."

"Aemond," he warns him, "We're here to protect your career."

Aemond clenches his jaw, tension beginning to emerge throughout the room.

"Yes, I understand that, but this isn't just about me, it's about both of us and especially her. We can't make a decision without considering what she thinks."

Criston folds his arms and lets out a frustrated sigh.

"Aemond, I understand your point but the reality is different. The press can be ruthless–

"Sometimes, Criston, there are more important things than the press," he replies in his firm tone. "And this is one of those times. I'm not going to sacrifice Y/N's happiness and decision for the sake of my career. We need to find a solution that works for both of us."

Criston shakes his head as he purses his lips.

"Fine," he says seriously and looking at him expectantly, then looks at you, "So tell us, Y/N, what do you want to do? Have the baby?" he asks clearly incredulous.

And you, feeling everyone's piercing gaze, making you feel nervous and scared, respond with all the fear in the world but not being unwilling to not let them know what you think is best.

"Yes," you reply quietly and with a completely vulnerable tone.

The expression on Criston's face worsens, not believing it, as well as the woman publicist and the entire PR team look shocked and annoyed.

And Criston, frustrated, can't contain his anger.

"Y/N," he calls you in a serious voice and wanting to make you understand, "This baby was not planned and all of us can help you handle this correctly and privately. We simply cannot let this affect Aemond's career."

His words echo throughout your living room, feeling the tension, as you feel the weight of all the expectant stares, feeling completely vulnerable and helpless.

"B-but I'm afraid of going through an abortion and I don't think that's—

The anger in Criston's eyes increases, while some of the team members exchanged serious and uneasy looks with the atmosphere becoming increasingly tense.

"This baby wasn't planned, Y/N," he repeats to you seriously and with a firm tone, "You can't ignore reality."

"Look, we understand that this is a complicated situation and a difficult decision," the publicist tells you, "But you must consider the impact it will have on Aemond's career if you decide to have him."

"Besides the fact that the news of an unplanned pregnancy could generate a negative narrative in the media," the PR man says.

"And it will affect his career, definitely," adds another woman.

"But I—

You try to speak, with desperation in your tone of voice completely broken and tears still streaming down your cheeks.

"Y/N, our job is to protect Aemond's reputation at all costs. And that's exactly what we're going to do."

Criston tells you as a final answer and you can only look at him completely bewildered, sad and hopeless, while in an attempt to seek support in all this, as they are deciding everything for you, you look at Aemond with clear despair in your eyes.

And he watches you with tight lips and a look of sadness, frustration and resignation, and then turns his gaze away from yours and immerses himself in his own internal struggle between his feelings and the reality of his career as he lets out a sigh.

Until finally he breaks the silence.

"Okay," he looks at everyone with a tired but determined look, then looks at you, "We'll have the baby."

Disbelief and surprise wash over you, watching him with relief beginning to reflect in your eyes, as Criston and his entire team, look on in complete bewilderment and alarm.

"Aemond—

Criston tries to speak, with clear dissatisfaction all over his eyes, but he won't let him.

"This is my responsibility too," he tells him firmly, "But it's her body and she decides."

"You're not thinking clearly—

"Listen," he interrupts again, serious, then looks at you again and turns to you, "Y/N," he says softly and with some caution, "We'll have the baby, okay? You will stay in my apartment, I will settle all the necessary expenses and I will be by your side always, making sure that you and the baby have everything you need, as it should be," he assures you.

That relief and that little spark of hope and happiness persists, until all that was beginning to bloom vanishes in a second when Aemond says the following words:

"But I cannot recognize the baby publicly or legally."

Then, everything around you stops.

His words echo continuously in your mind like a distant echo and you watch him completely bewildered, confused, hurt and even with some betrayal as your breath catches.

"Actually that might work," says his publicist, "Up to a certain time but it might work."

"Really?" asks Criston seriously but thoughtfully.

"Recognizing the baby legally and giving him his last name will be a public record and document, anyone could access it and it would be too much of a risk to Aemond's career. But by not doing so, it gives us more time and an advantage."

"You'll still be able to take care of him and be there for him, privately. And when the time comes, giving him your last name won't be a problem, you could even set a date."

Aemond listens carefully, then turns his gaze back to you, while you can't take your eyes off him and ask him silently, completely hurt: why? Why do something like this?

You understand perfectly well his job and what is at stake but what about you? The baby? Does his career really matter more?

But you can't formulate words, you just continue to watch him, until there is simply nothing more inside you, only pain and betrayal, unable to believe that he said those words and it breaks your heart even more when he says to you with remorse and seriousness.

"Y/N, please understand that I want to do the right thing, but I also need to protect my career. And this is the best I can offer you right now."

You watch him in complete silence, your eyes relieving your sadness, disappointment and sense of abandonment.

"We need to make sure that during the pregnancy Y/N and the baby are well taken care of, postpartum as well, preventing either of them from appearing in public until the time is right, keeping the news from leaking out."

"Or Y/N can go out publicly but she can't be seen with you," the man says to Aemond, "And the baby must be in cover all the time, especially if his hair is silver like yours afterwards."

And you again stand in the middle of it all, silent and resisting the urge to just cry louder. Your heart is beating too hard, where your emotions are tangled in confusion and pain.

"So it could work? For a while?" asks Aemond, hopeful, but with clear frustration and worry in his eyes, realizing that he really doesn't want to do this.

"Sure. As long as she's not seen with you during and after the pregnancy and the baby is fully protected, everything will be fine."

taglist:

@imaegonstargaryenswife0 @bellstwd @gibbsgirl7 @toodlesxcuddles @imsoshygirl @croatianprincess @gemini-mama @a-little-roony-mara @mysteris-things @zenka69 @at-a-rax-ia @fan-goddess @duds31 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @eternally-passionate @bellaisasleep @ttkttt @aemshaircare @mellowdreamlandpost-blog @noodle81937 @mooncalvin @queenofshinigamis @n4tforlife @vexladin @dixie-elocin @wotcherpeak

there were some of you that I could not tag:(

[jesncin]

Does John Jones have a day job? Something other than a classic police detective?

As John Jones, J'onn is a private detective unaffiliated with the cops because he doesn't like the system of oppression cops uphold. Other than that, as Amrit, J'onn works as a child psychologist.

Think Theo from The Haunting of Hill House mixed with the protagonist of The Children Under the House analog horror film. Using a mix of telepathy and detective-ing, J'onn operates through Amrit as a means of protecting children of all sorts.