#post-first inspector

[spinostarz]

THE WELL AND THE LIGHTHOUSE PMV/ANIMATIC

very very jean valjean centric because i love him and he deserves the world <3 im not sure if pmv or animatic would apply better to this, but either way, i hope you enjoy it!

[hrokkall]

it feels like thinking through cheese wire

[woobble42069]

landduo is awesome because they'll say they hate each other and want the other to die horrible deaths and live through horrible fates, and mean it! but then they'll also do things for each other that are so kind.

they'll support each other through it all while still being little hater bitches as much as bbh may plot scheme and prank we all know he's clingy and always leaves gifts when he's gone too far

and for all the insults foolish throws bad's way he can read bad like a book and is patient will all bad's antics when anyone else would have been driven insane by now

no matter it be platonic, qpr, or romantic or just up in the air you gotta admit they're close

and even if you're not a fan you can count on their character interactions to always be interesting

[goemon-fan]

I feel like everyone should see this scene

[a-wild-regulus-kinnie]

We are in a world where I (a French queer neurodivergent teenager (am I still a teenager?)) is watching an almost unknown Scottish show from the 90's.

All of that because of some actor.

[jupiterscallie]

Well, hello art blog! My computer broke back in December, so I haven't made polished art in a long while. But but but! I have quite the experience with phone art, and so when I finished making this piece for an extended bit, and it turned out this nice... Well, I'd be hard pressed not to post it. Even if it does make me mad that it turned out so cute. Hopefully I'll post some more art soon enough! ID under cut, if the alt text doesn't work.

[Image ID: A drawing of Inspector Zenigata and Lupin iii, from the series Lupin iii. They're drawn in a pose where they're chest to chest, touching hands and nearly face to face. This is in reference to the vocaloid song "Magnet," and the pose from the cover art. They are wearing glowing butterfly headphones to reference the song further, which are interlocked at the microphones. They are drawn in a soft shaded style. Inspector Zenigata is flustered and mad, while Lupin is smug. End ID]

[unofficialsherlockian]

When you’re 100 pages into the Midsomer Murders book and no one’s been killed yet

[kooyikyung]

LEE YOUNGAE | INSPECTOR KOO BEHIND THE SCENES

[narmothewraith]

I'm a lot more interested in Les Mis (again) and have watched the 10th anniversary concert recently.

So I decided to draw one of my favorite Javerts :D

[bluebell-9]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Inspector Lynley Mysteries (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Barbara Havers/Thomas Lynley Characters: Barbara Havers, Thomas Lynley Additional Tags: Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, First Kiss, British Detectives, Awkward Romance, Post-Canon, Fix-It Summary:

DI Thomas Lynley and DS Barbara Havers have been professional partners for years. They're pros at eliciting the truth in the interview room. They're not so great at being honest with each other. At least, not until now.

[lemonadecandy103]

The Way of Life (excerpt)

Rated: T; implied sexual content. A/N: a small section of a shinkane fic I've been working on for months, but I'm in the middle of drowning in med and grad school applications so let me just share the section that I'm most confident in for now. Post-First Inspector. Mild PPP spoliers, more like allusions but anyway. Enjoy!

He trails kisses from her shoulder to her fingertip, whispering “I’m sorry” in between each one, never failing to keep his lips a feather’s touch away from her skin.

“Stop.” She giggles at the tickling sensation.

He lifts his head to look at her. Then continues.

“Stop.” She says again. He doesn’t stop. “Stop it! Kougami-san.” She says restlessly.

“That’s not my name.” She looks at him confused

“Akane. Call me by my name.”

“Just like you were doing it a while ago when we-” “Shinya!”

“Like that.”

He holds a lock of her damp hair in between his thumb and forefinger, tucking it behind her ear. Now, he could see her whole flushed face, spent and glowing with the rays of the sunrise coming in through the windows of her enforcer’s quarters. She’s still trying to catch her breath from their previous activities.

“When do you have to go?” she asks.

“Whenever you tell me to.”

“I’m sure Hanashiro-san needs you on assignments.”

“That may be. But she knows this is important to me. Gino and Sugo can handle it.”

His hands find their way to the scar on her thigh and then travels to an identical one on her side. She feels his fingers repeatedly trace over the area and she mimics the movements of his fingers over the matching scar on his thigh.

“What do you think our lives would’ve been like if there was no Sibyl?” she asks, adding “Would you still have chosen to be a detective?”

“I don’t know. What other life would you think suit me?” 

“Probably a professor. You would teach comparative literature.”

“Hm. And where would I teach?”

“Nara. The local university there.”

“Is that where we meet?”

Akane pauses briefly. “Yes. I study...law there.”

“We marry after you graduate.”

“And move into a small house close to the university.”

“Any kids?”

“Two. Shu and…”

“Joji.” He finishes.

“Yes. While the boys are still small, we come to see you after work, then we go home as a family and eat dinner together.”

He buries his face in her stomach for a while as he tries to process both the overwhelming warmth and heartbreak that was swelling up in him. When he resurfaces, he grabs a cigarette while he repositions himself next to her on the bed.

“Well I didn't think I’d take me for someone who’d be good at words. Much less teach them. There's other people who are better at that. Like Kunizuka and… well another former colleague of mine.”

“Tsubasa Tori-san.”

“Ah yes, her. How did you know?”

There was a long pause, then Akane fixates her gaze on the ceiling. “I’ve watched some of your former case recordings. From when you used to be an inspector.”

Kougami smiles and chuckles “And what did you think?”

“You were very different at that age.” He was more polished and well spoken.

“Different better or worse?” 

“Neither.” She turns to him and smiles.

“But the ‘you’ in those recordings, felt so familiar. Reminded me of Shindo-kanshikan.”

“It’s funny that you say that. Everytime I see that kid, I’m reminded of you.”

“I see.”

She sees him put out his cigarette and lay back down properly. She takes the chance to position herself over him.

[lauv-ida]

Beyond His Dreams

Summary: A stupendous gathering, hosted by the Public Safety Bureau Chief Homura Shizuka, tests Kougami’s limited social skills. The ex-fugitive hardly considers himself approachable, until a particular guest reaches her hand out and invites Kougami to a dance.

No Archive Warnings Apply

Teen and Up Audiences

F/M

Kougami Shinya/Tsunemori Akane

Additional Tags: Awkwardness, Overthinking, Expensive Parties, Slow Dancing, Kougami's Emotional Constipation, Post-Psycho-Pass 3: First Inspector

Read on ao3

In the sea of pompous and elaborate getups, gowns ballooned by the riches tucked in their pockets, the footsteps of the elite weighed heavy across the wooden floor. Every step and clack audible, barely any peace reached Kougami's ears since he had entered the party venue.

As expected of Bureau Chief Homura, his idea of a party was not simply that of fine tunes and good food—it was all of those but grander. The newly instated chief had invited the Japan Philharmonic Orchestra to play music for his distinguished guests, the same orchestra that had been gracing the official functions of the imperial family for years. In that event, Shizuka was the boss, and the maestro followed Shizuka’s song requests on command—what a way to have a jukebox. The food, the mouth-watering spread, it was prepared by local chefs who recently bagged gold in a Sibyl-officiated food competition, and their skills were put to the test once again to satisfy the palates of high-profile government officials, public figures, and business leaders. The party's centerpiece wasn't surprising either: an intricate installation of 700,000 shards of glass resembling a giant chrysanthemum—Japan's national flower, symbolizing longevity, rejuvenation, and royalty.

A party fit for royalty, alright. That was how Kougami could put it. Perhaps the grandest display in all of those he had attended before, Kougami suddenly became conscious of his own appearance.

The sophisticated cries of the violins extended across the ballroom, and as if on cue, the ceiling lights dimmed to accommodate the calmer mood in the air. The guests scurried through the room to find their respective dancing partners, and before Kougami could finish his cigarette, everybody had already settled in, hands held and waists tugged.

Meanwhile, Kougami was alone in a corner. To be exact, he deserted his more sociable peers from the Suppressing Action Department for some solitude. His lone state did make him seem like a sore thumb, but Kougami, who spent most of the hour leaning against a wall, was willing to pass the time in that manner, even if people were beginning to shoot condescending glances his way.

Then, the giant doors to the ballroom opened, and the corner of Kougami's eye caught something vibrant red. Like an exotic flower. The striking, colorful gown briskly swept the floor, turning everyone else's attention toward the center. As for Kougami who stood at the far back, he was not bothered to have a better look at the newcomer, until the gown's owner curtsied in front of Public Safety Bureau Chief Homura Shizuka.

Kougami then had a hunch of who it was. He slowly made his way through the stagnant crowd and saw her. Given the guest's petite, lithe build and short brown hair, there was no mistake. The night’s flower of vermillion was no other than Tsunemori Akane.

In Kougami's memories of working with her, Tsunemori had always worn her formal black suit or MWPSB jacket whenever she was out in the field. Sometimes, Kougami’s eyes couldn't help checking her form; he did make a mental note to stop his awful habit. It was, however, a first for Kougami to find his former superior in such a pristine state, and it took everything in him to avoid looking like an idiot.

Tsunemori stood far from him, startled by the sudden barrage of notorious faces known to plaster their manufactured smiles and promises on any bare screen, wall, and pole they could find. She, despite her previous incarceration record, was still a highly sought flower, and the crappy weeds competed for her attention. Kougami’s loudest voice couldn't possibly meet the distance even if he tried.

The Cinderella story never existed for Kougami; hard to imagine it would ever happen in his lifetime. He closed his eyes, he refused to believe in it. When he was about to give up his thin thread of hope, the clacking of someone's heels grew louder with every step. The distance closed between Kougami and that person, and he could feel a presence right in front of him.

So she stood there proudly, the flower of vermillion whose dark amber eyes glowed brighter than the dim lights above, and her pale shoulders and ample cleavage bared for him to see. So tempting, Kougami could hardly resist staring at her.

But the pompous weeds glared at the man eyed by their precious flower. It was uncalled for: the spotlight was cast on Kougami who was never fond of attention. The weeds self-appointed themselves as judges; they deemed Kougami unworthy of standing next to Tsunemori. Kougami's predicament was clearly due to Tsunemori picking him, and she was definitely the first to ever make him feel uncomfortable in his own skin.

“Mr. Kougami?” the flower of vermillion met Kougami's gaze. Tsunemori's curtain of lashes fluttered, revealing the rugged man's reflection in her experienced eyes. What could she have witnessed in those years while Kougami was away?

Tsunemori lifted her hand and reached out to Kougami as a sign of invitation. She asked him, “May I have this opportunity to dance with you?”

The next thing Kougami knew, he was guiding Tsunemori's footsteps, her hand in his, as the two danced to the slowest song Kougami had ever heard in years. Following the dwindling sound of the piano keys, Kougami slowly whispered in Tsunemori's ear, “One, step step. Two, step step. Three, step step, and finally, turn right here,”

The moment was beyond Kougami's dreams, and he still couldn't believe it. As to why his self-doubt ran as deep as the pits of the earth, Kougami was once asked if his everyday was like an endless hell. Most of the time, sure; dread was the usual suspect that invaded his mind. Kougami never begged the nameless deity to grant him bubble-like dreams because he hated having any sort of hope for happiness. To him, the fleeting feeling was always so precious, so fragile.

Unfortunately, rare occasions such as that night reminded the ex-fugitive of a curse worse than his insomnia: seeing Tsunemori so beautiful, Kougami was bound to have difficulty sleeping later, wasting his hours thinking of an unreachable future with her.

Notes: The title and story concept were inspired by the song "Beyond My Dreams" by Sunwoo Jung-a, an OST of the Korean drama series Extraordinary Attorney Woo. If you are familiar with that revolving door scene, I referred to Lee Jun-ho's mini dance lesson for Kougami's line here. And as always, thank you for reading!

[guinea-pig-enthusiast]

I have since beaten Ghost Trick and I would like to say:

INSPECTOR CABANELA IS STILL WINNING EVEN POST-GAME WHAT A LEGEND

[biscuitrule]

Okay but like imagine Barnes getting roped into trying to teach the trio how to drive

[greenapricot]

first lines meme

Thanks for tagging me @ripplesofaqua

Rules: post the first lines of your 10 most recent fanfics

Riches and Wonders - (OFMD, Ed/Stede, modern au) By the time the main course arrives, Stede has all but tuned out the man sitting across the table from him. He’s an old hand at this sort of thing, but he hadn’t expected to need to do it tonight.

Never quite like this - (Shetland, Jimmy/Duncan) “Hey,” Jimmy says, as if he hasn’t said just that to Duncan a thousand times over the years in a thousand ways; exhausted, exasperated, teasing, content, relieved, fond even.

A tunnel to crawl through - (OFMD, Ed/Stede) Blackbeard swings down from the rigging onto the deck, slashes, parries, meets each piece of steel that flashes toward him with his own. Meets flesh with steel too.

It's misery loves you - (OFMD, Ed/Stede, Izzy POV) Blackbeard is himself again. He is more than himself. More ruthless, more vicious, more magnificent. Not a trace of that namby-pamby fucker in the pink gown.

The time it takes to get from here to there - (Lewis, James/Robbie) “All these lonely people pouring their lives into puzzles that can’t be solved.” James takes a sip of his pint then puts the glass down on the table, the scent of dry rot still lingering in his nostrils.

Here Comes Your Man - (Lewis, James/Robbie) The shoebox is battered; cardboard squashed in at the edges and coming apart at the corners.

Don't go dark on me - (Shetland, Jimmy/Duncan) “What are you doing?” Jimmy asks from the doorway. Duncan looks up from the two suitcases he has open on the bed in front of him. “Thought I’d sort this while you sorted the flights.”

The calm before the aftermath - (Shetland, Jimmy/Duncan) When Jimmy catches him up, Duncan is in the kitchen standing at the island with a bottle of whisky in his hand and two glasses in front of him on the worktop.

Forgot to bend - (Shetland, Jimmy/Duncan) Everything, including his own body, feels far away; as if he’s no longer fully tethered to the earth.

A fist-full of sand - (Shetland, Jimmy/Duncan) The house is empty when Jimmy finally gets home, silent, but not quite dark; the long twilight filtering through the window shades as the season marches on toward summer.

I tag (including people who have already been tagged) @mcgstarroar @vita-s-west @bryndeavour @ronniebox @mr-iskender @thankyouforbeingsowrong @swimmingfoxsticks @desperately-human and anyone else who wants to play.

[barkboat]

no way i saw a post saying fiddler on the roof is romanticising shtetl life. there’s literally a pogrom on screen and then they’re all forced to leave at the end.