Come on, guys! You know me better than that!

(…Mun has to interject, just because of those pictures~

True. Kid doesn’t kill, and wouldn’t/hasn’t made a plane explode. To my knowledge. (And if he had, if wouldn’t have people in it.) Buuuuuut…

Paintings by famous artists stolen? Hmmm…

And the main reason I felt the need to reblog this and add stuff to it…

Ehehehe….)

“…Who’s side are you on, anyway?”

(Oh, come on. You know I love ya, but how could I resist? Besides, people find it strange nowadays when you use an actual gun, much less when stuff like this happens. I’d say you should be safe, Kai~)

♡ -timidly sends on anon and flee’s-

Send me a “♡” if you want to ship our muses or would ship them.

(Why you people be afraid? Neither I nor Kai bite… (Shh, Kai. I don’t care if being a shy anon was pretty much me a couple of months ago.) I’m of half a mind to just blindly agree with the Anons, just ‘cuz. Ships. Armadas. Yesh. )

britishhsdetectivehakuba:

Hakuba brought a gloved hand to his mouth as he laughed, body bending slightly. Kaito a detective? No, he was far from it, a thief to be exact. But that wasn’t something he could tell the young one next to him. So instead a soft smile that if someone looked closely enough, or understood, would say it was of fondness and love, that who ever he was thinking of, and talking about, was someone he really cared for.

“No.” He spoke softly.“But he’s the greatest magician I have ever known.”

Kaito frowned slightly and twisted some to look back at the detective. He didn’t really look to carefully at the other’s face, nor did he pick up on the tone of his voice. Too focused on the words themselves.

“Well, you haven’t met my father, then. Because he’s the best!”

Not that he wasn’t a little excited to hear about another magician, but no one was better than his dad.

…And for some reason, the thought made him want to get home faster. He turned back ahead, picking up the pace, hands slowly coming back down after a few moments.

…Why did he feel so uneasy?

“O Captain… my Captain… our fearful trip is done.
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won.
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring.
But O heart. Heart… Heart…
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead…

O Captain… my Captain… rise up and hear the bells.
Rise up, for you the flag is flung, for you the bugle trills.
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths; for you the shores a-crowding;
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning.
Here Captain… dear father…
This arm beneath your head.
It is some dream that on the deck,
You’ve fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer… his lips are pale and still..
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will.
The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done.
From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won.
Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells…
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead…..”