#oops! sorry this got so long!

[colgatebluemintygel]

hi hi soooo i’ve been meaning to send an ask about the most recent chapter of on another ocean because i went insane!!!! like all your characterisations are so so good and i think we glossed over the whole peter in love with sirius thing?? i would like to go back to that and actually maybe read something from peter’s pov i am like. so obsessed with this idea your MIND!! and this icon berlin peter it’s just!!! i need 2 read him and fabian getting together too im sooo here for peter to have his moment being pined over actually. and literally i KNOW r/s finally fuck in this chapter but i am so captivated by all the other moving parts and relationship dynamics!! but rest assured i was yelling when sirius made remus jealous on purpose i love that trope so much!!!! all that tension finally resolved only for it to come crashing down with the friends who fuck speech <3 can’t wait for that to backfire so bad <3 anyway just love your fic so much can’t wait for the next update :-))

omg hiiii!! welcome!!! would you like a seat? here have some tea!! <333

peter oh peterrrrrrr i am so fascinated by this guy! and by his dynamic with the rest of the guys! i really empathise with him, i think. high school friendship groups can be amazing, but they can still be soo incredibly stifling. even if they’re great and even if you all still get along, it can be hard to move on and to not get stuck in your ways. and that’s just something i especially see in peter, particularly as he’s kind of always defined as the “extra” or like the fourth guy always trailing around after the others. like he's always defined in relation to other people, rather than who he is as his own person. and like. i just think that would be so incredibly hard on him identity-wise. like how do you form your own identity that isn’t dependent on other people? especially when you know that's how everyone sees you. i imagine that's how you'd also start to see yourself. and like even if the other guys aren’t actively mean to him (in the way that it's implied they were in canon), i still think that would be really difficult to navigate. so i said!! what about an edgy icon peter! in berlin!!! buzzcut and an eyebrow piercing!

i find peter/sirius such an intriguing dynamic because there's this feeling that sirius just isn't ever even an option for peter. like it's totally off the cards for him (which honestly makes me really want to write a peter/sirius fic. i've genuinely been thinking about it!!!) like we kind of also get that with r/s in the sense that remus is this chewed up pencil of a man who somehow bags this guy who is.... basically a prince (although OFC they have a whole lot of other stuff going on too!). but with peter it's kinda taken to the next level. and i think nobody thinks that more than peter yknow? like i think he knows it's absolutely hopeless, but even so in oao i think a teeny tiny part of him still hoped. especially since he's moved to berlin and has found his own identity. i think he would have been soooooo excited to see sirius, and, most importantly, for sirius to see him! and for sirius to see that he's maybe worth knowing. maybe even romantically! but unfortunately ...... 99% of sirius's brain capacity has been taken up by a certain knobbly kneed chewed up pencil man! bad timing :-\\

also YES peter deserves to be pined after !!!!! fabian was always kind of meant to be a double of sirius (tho he is 100% still his own person too) and then the further i got into it the more i was like… what if the situation between peter and fabian was also kind of a double of r/s!! what if!!! but with differences!!! and then peter’s unrequited love for sirius entered the chat and it became this bonkers love square situation! but yes i have soooo many thoughts and feelings about fabian/peter and am definitely planning on doing a lil extra peter pov oneshot of them after r/s leave!!! i just keep imagining the fallout now that it's just the two of them again in their little flat together (well. ft mary! but she basically lives at her gf's). so much has happened! and now there's all this sudden space again that's not taken up by those other silly boys and their drama!

anywho i am very sad to be leaving them behind in the next chap :-( although they will return :-) BUT !! i am also excited because DORLENE!!!! who will also have their own plot line n everything !! woohoo!

also..... ahhhhh! thank you again!!!! i am just so/ happy and flattered to have you here!! have said it before but... i love your work! both yours and wolfpants' fics were largely responsible in inspiring me to start writing again! hehe <3

[kwillow]

will theo ever be happy

Maybe in another life.

[yasmindifference]

Cheer up prompt #27

An anon and @this-was-a-terrible-idea also requested #27! A popular number apparently lol. I hope you all enjoy! ♡

"--and then Mr. Browsten said that with all the, um, the hullabaloo that it wasn't fair to make us take a test, so he cancelled it."

Tim pauses for breath and Mom hums an encouraging noise. When Dad makes that sound, it means he's not really listening, but he knows Mom's paying attention, even though she hasn't stopped curling her hair. From where he's lying on her bed, he can see her reflection in the vanity mirror, and she's frowning just like he knew she would.

Mom doesn't approve of canceling tests, which means she doesn't approve of Mr. Browsten, because he cancels them all the time.

(Mom says tests are important to know where improvement is necessary. Mr. Browsten doesn't seem to agree.)

"So we watched a documentary instead and it was pretty interesting, it was about puffer fish! Sarah asked what puffer fish have to do with grammar and Mr. Browsten said that learning is its own reward, but I think he just didn't have anything else ready so he took something from Ms. Cappola instead. She's the fifth grade science teacher and I heard her classes watch movies at least twice a week."

Mom tuts, which Tim was expecting, and sets down her curling iron.

"Ridiculous," she mutters. "I don't know why we're paying that school so much in tuition when they can't be bothered to teach you anything. It's a miracle you ever learned to read."

"It's because I'm smart," Tim informs her helpfully, and Mom smiles her special just-for-Tim smile.

"You are," she agrees. "And thank goodness for that. Now, would my smart boy do me a favor?"

Because Tim's smart, he already knows what she's going to ask. He rolls off the bed to his feet. "Curling iron?"

"Yes, please." Mom rolls her chair away from the vanity so he can crawl under it to unplug the curling iron. She plugged it in herself, but that was before she was all dressed up in her expensive dress. "Thank you, Timmy."

"You're welcome," he chirps, crawling back out.

Mom rolls back in front of the vanity, but Tim stays where he is, kneeling next to it so he can watch her put her makeup on. There are a lot of different bottles and brushes and powders involved, but Mom never hesitates. Tim doesn't know how she keeps it all straight.

He likes watching Mom get ready to go out. Sometimes--like tonight--she lets him pick out the jewelry she's gonna wear, and then she chooses her dress and hair and makeup all based on what he picked. Even when the colors don't match, it all fits together like a puzzle...a puzzle she pieces together in seconds after Tim's impulsive choice.

It's really cool.

Tonight, Tim picked pretty, dangly earrings with some kind of red stone (ruby, Mom said when he asked), so Mom picked a black dress. She said it would make the earrings pop, which he didn't get until he saw her wearing it.

Now, he watches her choose lipstick as red as the earrings and asks, "Does the lipstick make the earrings pop, too?"

Mom finishes smoothing it on before she smiles at him. "You tell me."

Tim studies her. The lipstick matches the earrings, but it doesn't draw attention to them the way the plain dress does. He already watched her do her eye stuff, and her eyes look bigger somehow, but they're not colorful like they were when they all went to the opera last week.

"No," he decides. "You went new...neutral?" He waits for her slight nod of confirmation, then continues, encouraged, "You went neutral with your eye stuff and red with your lipstick to make your lips pop."

"Very good," Mom says, smiling. She cups his cheek briefly before turning back to the vanity. "Clever boy."

Tim beams and watches in fascinated silence as she uses some kind of powder. Even though he's staring right at her, he can't tell what the powder actually does. All he knows is that when she's done, her face looks...different. Still pretty, but kinda sharper somehow.

Makeup is like magic, he decides. No matter how many times he watches her get ready, he can never figure it out.

"Can I try?" he asks impulsively.

"Try what?" Mom asks, a little distracted. The cap on one of her bottles is stuck and she's struggling to open it.

"Your makeup!" Tim takes the bottle from her and opens it by using the hem of his shirt to grip it better. Mom can't do that, her dress is all shiny and slippery. "You look pretty, I wanna try."

Mom pauses and then smiles.

"I don't have long before I have to leave," she warns him, "but I don't see why not. Do you want to pick out some lipstick?"

Tim absolutely does. He levers to his feet as, across the room, Dad finally stirs. He's been reading some stuff his assistant from Drake Industries brought by earlier, ignoring them both, but now he says, "Janet" in a weird tone.

"Jack?" Mom asks, even as she directs Tim's attention to the little circles on the bottom of her lipstick tubes that show what color they are. She has a lot of options.

"Janie, really," Dad says. He sounds unhappy, and Tim looks up from comparing two different shades of pink to find him frowning. "You can't mean to let our son--"

He stops mid-sentence and Tim bites back a wince. Dad's in trouble; Tim hasn't seen that look on Mom's face since he told her about his last nanny giving him whiskey to help him sleep when he woke up from bad dreams.

"My son," Mom says very deliberately, "is welcome to express himself however he likes."

Is trying makeup expressing himself? Tim just wants to see if it makes him as pretty as it does Mom.

Either way, that's not a good tone. Tim looks down and concentrates really hard on picking out a lipstick.

"Janet," Dad tries again, weakly. He obviously knows he's in Big Trouble, but for some reason he hasn't apologized yet. Tim tries to psychically tell him to cut his losses and back down, but his telepathy apparently still hasn't kicked in, because Dad says, "It's just that--"

"Do you know what you want to try, sweetheart?" Mom asks, completely ignoring Dad.

Tim looks between his parents, decides to let Dad dig his own grave, and hands Mom the red he settled on.

(If it's the red that most closely resembles the red in Robin's uniform...well, it's not like Mom has any way of knowing that.)

"Excellent choice!" Mom says. She stands up from the vanity and pats her chair. "Take a seat."

Tim does, excited. He's not usually allowed to sit at Mom's vanity.

Lipstick, he learns quickly, feels really weird. He has to sit super still while Mom puts it on him, and it makes his lips feel weirdly heavy, like there's something on them.

Which there is, actually, so...he doesn't know what he was expecting.

Mom hands him a tissue so he can "blot" his lips, just like he's seen her do a million times, and then steps aside so he can see his reflection in the mirror.

"Whoa," Tim says, leaning closer. He makes a few faces, pushing his lips together and out, transfixed by how bright and noticeable they are. It doesn't make him pretty like Mom, but he likes how it looks anyway. "Cool."

Behind him, Dad throws up his hands and leaves the room. He's angry, Tim can tell, but Mom is smiling down at him, so Tim's not worried.

"Do you want to pick eyeshadow next?" she asks.

"Yes, please!"

Prompt #27 was experimentation! Well selected! ♡♡

[kayomin]

fanart of the fic Washed Up by @slicedmayonnaise

[hellsite-detective]

Hellsite Detective in…

The Miku Bind

sometimes, a detective has got to do some work for herself. and i decided it was time to go after one of my white whales…

it was a cool, rainy afternoon in Tumblr City, like always. i had just wrapped up doin’ some cases and i was broodin’ out the window. but one image kept flashin’ in my mind. a vocaloid lovin’ foundin’ father that i’ve sought for my whole career. the fabled Thomas Jefferson Miku Binder.

to start my journey, i went down to the Search Bar, a night club in the heart of the city. neon lights shined on the sign out front and music could be heard pourin’ out the front door. i stepped in, drippin’ wet from the rain outside. the place was lively as ever, groups minglin’ and dancin’ to the music. and there, in a corner booth away from everyone else, was Don Google. that big time mob boss that acts as my informant. they sat there playin’ poker with a couple of lackeys, no one of note from what i could tell. they saw me walkin’ up and immediately called out to the waiter for another drink.

“well well! if it ain’t my buddy, Miss Detective! whatcha here for?”

i’m here for personal business, actually. i’m lookin’ for this…

i slid a photograph across the table. the photo that was so well known, it made even the Don pull back. they knew this was serious business.

“you sure you want this one?”

i’m sure, Don. you got it or not?

“oh, i got it. but it’ll cost ya.”

i wasn’t about to have my victory snatched away by this selfish old fool. the Don lookin’ for a deal was never a good sign, but i was desperate.

what do you want?

“oh, nothin’ much, doll. just do me a favor sometime down the line. then we’ll call it even. capisce?”

bein’ in debt to the Don was not something i wanted. whatever they asked me to do, i knew it’d be bad. but either way i needed this post. i needed to solve the case. so i made what would possibly be the worst mistake of my life…

it’s a deal.

“glad we could reach an agreement, Miss. i believe this is what you’re lookin’ for?”

they pulled out their black leather briefcase, their name engraved on it in multicolored letters. it would seem tacky on anyone else. but the Don had a style to them that made it work. poppin’ it open, they handed me the file i was lookin’ for. just sittin’ there at the top, like they knew i was here for it. i grabbed it, thanked the Don, and got up to leave. that’s when they grabbed my sleeve.

“Miss Detective. don’t forget about our arrangement.”

i pulled away, scoffed, and went on my way. whatever they wanted me to do, i’m sure it wasn’t great. either way, the job was done. and i finally had what i wanted. i went back to my dingy office, alone, and filed the post away. the rain still poundin’ down against the window.

Post Case: Closed

[robbie-lee-zombie]

mini ficlet I got inspired to do ( @fluffymary )

When the gang of smiling critters have a sleepover, you better believe they go big or go home.

Kickin was the first to pass out after the movie, hanging halfway off the couch at the start, but eventually slumped to the floor at an odd angle and still hadn't stirred. Crafty and Bearhug aren't far behind as they both yawn, drifting off on the far left of the couch, holding onto one another. Hoppy, Bubba and Piggy were huddled in their own pile on the other end, looking uncomfortable to anyone else but snoring all the while.

What about our final two?

One of our sweet little friends was having a horrible dream. Horrible enough to leave him panting when he awoke, checking around the living room frantically for any monsters that might still be lurking in the dark. Dogday knew he was being silly, but it still got to him, he just knew something was coming for him! Something waiting to come out and grab him, something to steal him away and no one would ever find him again-

"Hey, hey, it's okay. Look at me. Just keep your eyes on me, okay, pup?"

One, a night owl, someone who sleeps in the day because he guards the night. He protects his family, his friends, while they're vulnerable, so they have nothing to fear. Right now, his closest friend - his partner - had something to fear. Catnap couldn't have that.

"I couldn't run away- it hurt so much, Catnap-"

"Shh, shshh I know sunspot, you don't have to explain. I'm here. You're safe here."

A few beats of silence pass. Then, Catnap got an idea.

"I got it." Catnap lifts Dogday's chin to look him in the eyes more clearly. Smiling, sweetly, he whispers. "You want to hear a lullaby?"

Immediately Dogday's face starts to feel hot and he's pulling on his right ear, twirling and picking at the fur in a nervous fidget. His tail starts thumping behind him. "You- What if- You don't have to, I'll be-" Dogday whines a little. Embarrassed. Excited. Eager.

"Let me try that again."

Dogday's sputtering was immediately halted by Catnap's purring. He could feel it in his touch, in his paws any time he held Dogday's cheeks in his hands, it was a soft rumbling under the skin. It was soothing. "May I sing you a lullaby, sweet pup?"

Dogday willed his tail to stop wagging for a moment to respond seriously. He nodded. "Yes. Please."

Their positions are shifted to have Dogday leaning on Catnap's chest, slouching comfortably in case he were to fall asleep sooner than anticipated, which Cat had already dubbed in his mind would be no time at all. Dogday's tail wags without his permission, but neither of them mention it.

Catnap's claws make quick work of Dogday's ears, scratching at the base. Enough to tickle, enough to squirm and smile so wide Dogday's cheeks start to hurt, but not enough to laugh. Meanwhile, Catnap's tail traces along each of Dogday's toes that are tucked under the blankets. "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star~"

Dogday knew what lullaby this was. It's kept between them purely for Dogday's dignity and from dying of embarrassment. Not because they'd tickle the life out of him.

"How I wonder what you are~"

But because of how well it works. Plus, Catnap isn't the first one to go around bragging about his own singing voice as it is, he'd never hear the end of it.

"Up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky~"

"Wahahait!!"

"Dogday, you made me mess up the song, now I'll have to start over..."

"No! Nonononohoho don't stahahart over, please-" "Well, maybe I won't have to start over... If you can tell me where my tail left off?"

"Y-Your tahahail?"

"Yes, giggle pup, I need to know where my tail was on the last verse, so I can pick up where it left off. I can't recall..."

As Catnap whispers aloud, his tail sweeps up and down Dogday's soles. Dogday throws his head side to side, trying his best to keep his giggling to a minimum, but the faster that appendage swipes, the more restless Dogday gets.

"Was it along your soles, those bright suns on your feet? While we said "Up above the world" or was it-" His tail switches to sliding between his toes. "Between your poor little toes, as we said "Like a diamond in the sky"?"

Catnap knows this. Catnap loves this.

Dogday could hardly pay attention as Catnap's tail was sawing between his toes. Before he was even aware of his own actions, Dogday was squeezing one of Catnap's hands in his own, bracing himself on whatever willpower he had to not fight Catnap's attack. The other hand was frantic, pawing at the ground, his own torso in a self hug, hiding his face, he couldn't decide what made it better worse.

"Dihihiamond!! You were on diamohohohond!!!"

"Ah, that's right! Thank you so much, my little tickle pup, I knew I could count on you~"

As much as the lullaby felt like it droned on for hours, it really was helping. It was quiet enough between the two of them that this moment never had to be seen by anyone else, it was a special time that let them hold onto one another, to laugh away the nightmares. Catnap's song was eventually interjected with his red smoke - with Dogday's consent being the agreement to the lullaby in the first place, they established that ages ago.

That's what really knocks Dogday out, but Catnap likes to wait as long as he can to use it, just to savor in Dogday's bright smile and pink face just a little while longer.

"A pretty orange and pink sunrise, just for me alone."

As the sun rises in the windows through the curtains, Catnap finally falls asleep.

[damnation-if]

hey!! can i ask for a color palatte description for the ro's? like what their hair/eye colors are?

hope you're having a good week 💙💙💙

Hi!

I spent a long time putting together a graphic for this before I realised that you asked for just a description haha... oops. well. here is the graphic anyway XD

If you're looking for a link to the page with more general descriptions, there are some on the RO's page.

Very sorry for the delay in replying! My life is. hectic. smdnfgbsfgf

[orykorioart]

Cleaned up this sketch from a couple months ago bc I still really like it :-) They’re probably watching the sunset on top of Hammerlocke tower and admiring each other.

+ Little teaser/WIP for a request: it’s hurt/comfort time :-)

Pls know that even if I take a whhiiiiillllleee to get to requests, if you sent in one about Trans Rai I am kicking my silly lil feet about it, and will try to do it even if it takes some time 🥹

[the-words-we-sung]

The songs of Young Royals - S1 E1

So after a few re-watch I started noticing how well the songs are used in the show and I wanted to chat a little bit about it ^^ (Because I'm usually watching alone with my cat and he doesn't really care about my opinions on how awesome the show is at picking its songs :p So hopefully people here will be more interested!!)

Bad, Farveblind

I think it's wrong I think it's bad I think it's lame I think it's horrible The song starts when we see Wilhelm at the club where he gets in a fight and then we get the chorus through his earbuds in the car (note: I love it when a show put a music in the background that ends up being something a character is actually listening to in the scene!!). He just got out of a shitty situation which will have huge repercussions on his life and his mother is making decisions about his life without asking him: the show is not subtle about telling us how "wrong" and "bad" it is. And despite this lil' foreshadowing (the song plays before Minou tells Wille about his mother's decisions) and Wilhelm's strong opinion against them, it's still gonna happen. Going to a boarding school is "lame" (or so Wilhelm thinks) and the whole situation is "horrible". And yeah, it's gonna suck on a lot of points, but it's also gonna change his life...

Wannabee Ghetto, Fata Boom

... Keep up the front like it's your decision ... Look our best Covering up what we're missin It's literally what Wilhelm has to do now. His mother decided for him that he should change school and enroll at Hillerska, he is not happy about this plan but has to pretend he's okay with it. He just lied to the public that it was a decision he took part in. He is the prince, even if he's not (yet) the Crown Prince, and he has an image to maintain. An image that was damaged due to the video of the fight: someone is literally putting make up on him to "cover up" the marks of the fight so he can look his "best". And what is he missing? Well August will say it at least twice: he doesn't have the same drive as him or Erik. So he's missing the desire to be on top, to be king, to keep the status quo...

It takes a fool to remain sane, The Ark

... Wasn't life supposed to be more than this ... Let go off my hand and it will slip on the sand If you don't give me the chance To break down the walls of attitude I ask nothing of you, not even your gratitude 'Cause it takes a fool to remain sane ... Of becoming like the others Who become unhappy mothers And fathers of unhappy kids This song!! Such a great choice for their first song <3 Wilhelm being so incredibly unhappy and stuck because "being a prince is a privilege, not a punishment" but he wants more for his life. It is supposed to be "more than this", more than pressure and appearance. The song going on with the "unhappy mothers / unhappy kids" while we follow Erik and Wilhelm stiffly posing for pictures outside. How can Wilhelm not be scared? Is it the life that awaits him? Always keeping a nice front, not being himself?And why is that? 'Cause they've forgotten how to play But Erik and Wilhelm haven't forgotten yet!! Right after these lyrics we have a playful Erik who suggests they take off in the middle of the photo-shoot! And they do!! So there's hope for them!!

I see you, Nadia Tehran

Back to their bases Covering their faces Tones through the breeze yeah The power calls crises Round my crowd No cops allowed Interestingly the song starts with "you ain't welcome here, you don't look like us". This part is not in the show but works so well for Wilhelm starting at Hillerska. He's getting hazed by his peers "covering their faces" and being really rough with him (this hazing is so yucky, I struggle watching it every time ^^'), and he's welcome here because he's the prince, because he's supposed to be part of their world. But he's not gonna be like them. Do they know it already? "You don't look like us", and thanks god for that!! (And yup, "no cops allowed", right August? You can do whatever you want here without any consequences...)

Blah blah blah, Armin van Buuren

All we ever hear from you is blah blah blah So all we ever do is go ja ja ja And we don't even care about what they say The song plays while August is talking to Wilhelm about being among his peers and criticizing him for wanting to be "normal" at his previous school. I love that this song is playing because, yes, it's a good party song, but also, it's probably what everyone watching the show is thinking when August is being an insufferable prick like that! And Wilhelm too, who just usually goes "ja ja ja / yes yes yes" to what August tells him (until he stops and finally goes openly against him, but for now in the show, he just listens and nods). Erik told him he should listen and trust August, so he listens to him. But at this moment Simon appears, and suddenly Wilhelm "don't even care about what they say" because the cute boy he already has a big crush on just arrived. And August and his stupid speeches about rich people being above everyone else don't matter anymore.

[summerroseart]

It a little bit of a slow start lol

[Part 1: Prologue] . . . Part 2 . . . [Part 3]

[Master Post]

[the-red-thread-that-strangles]

Rei is late for the first time since he's started working at Poirot.

Neither terrorism attacks nor hostage crises have affected his being on time. Not even a runaway horse managed to keep him.

But he spends one night with Akai Shuichi, and his perfect record is ruined. Asshole.

Despite his calling ahead, Azusa gives him a worried look. He stops briefly to give her a mock-embarrassed apology, turning up the charm. Promises he won't be late again. Then he's off to the storage room.

He needs to fetch his ingredients and get to baking.

Rei's going to find Akai and strangle him, just as soon as his shift is over.

.

Roughly 12 hours earlier.

There's a gun aimed right between his eyes.

That in itself is nothing unusual. The situation could be worse, really.

After all, his own gun is pointed right back at Akai Shuuichi's annoyingly smug face. At this distance, he'll be able to read his movement, react in time. He'd rather talk, but if the sniper fires, Rei will drag him into hell too.

Blood for blood. Mutually assured destruction.

(His excitement is slightly dampened by the fact he's rather certain Akai won't kill him.)

"Caught you." Rei can't help the satisfaction slipping into his voice.

Finally. After three years, their game of cat and mouse is over. He'll have his answers.

The most pressing of which-

"Where's Scotch?"

The words cut into the silence, sharpened by fear. His best friend might still be dead, after all. (If he isn't, why hasn't he contacted Rei?)

It's not like he has much to go on to suspect he's alive, besides the fact that Akai himself came back from the dead. Rei can only hope he brought Hiro along.

Before Akai answers, there's a click. The world becomes dizzyingly bright, expanding past the muzzles of their guns.

Rei blinks the disorientation away. Spots silhouettes from the corner of his eyes. He hasn't met them before, but he's familiar, of course, with the owners of this house. How long have the Kudos been watching them?

While he's busy processing that revelation, Akai holsters his gun. Part of Rei hates how nonchalant Akai is about all of this, exposing himself so easily. Like Rei isn't a threat, won't put a bullet in his head because of a couple of witnesses. (Hates that he's probably right.)

"I propose a trade. For old time's sake."

(The words leave a bitter taste with Rei. They haven't exchanged anything, not goods, not words, not warmth, in years.)

Akai snaps open a cheap flip phone - likely a burner. His thumb hovers over the call button. The fingers of his other hand, long and dextrous, wrap around the barrel of Rei's P7M8, tugging gently, but insistently.

Rei considers his options. He holds no illusions - without his gun, he won't be able to dispatch Akai. But he's more than capable of holding his own for long enough to escape, if need be.

(He could just fire, right now. It wouldn't have to be lethal. Could take the phone by force. But chances are, whatever information Akai has, he'll be much less willing to share it with a bullet wound.)

Rei looks up at Akai, meets his green, green eyes. The part of him that shows genuine emotions, some days. (Not that Rei is one to talk.)

Finds Akai looking...tired. He wears a small smile, but it's worn around the edges. There's no open mockery, no quiet amusement. It's just the two of them, and an offer.

Rei lets go of the gun. He hopes he won't be needing it, tonight.

.

Akai helps him up, his hand warm and steady. As soon as he's upright, Rei lets go - he can walk perfectly fine by himself, thank you very much.

The FBI agent shows him to the living room, tells Rei to make himself a home. After all, the Kudos have promised to give him some privacy, for his chat.

For a moment, the sniper lingers, gaze caught by the phone. Then Akai casts his eyes down, and leaves Rei alone.

Silence, if not for the crackle of the damned fireplace, fills the room. Rei hesitates for a moment. Then he presses 'call' for the only number in the directory.

The phone crackles with static, beeps as it establishes connection, then-

"Hi, Zero."

The world stops moving. Relief floods his system, sapping the tension from his muscles. He leans against the soft backrest, breathing freely for the first time in a good long while.

.

Their talk is short. Rei asks some questions to establish it's truly Hiro, not an imposter (though that would make a very poor basis for the negotiation the Kudos have planned).

Hiro tersely explains some things, although he isn't allowed to give away much. He's in the FBI's witness protection program. That they're talking at all is a massive bending of the rules, authorized only because of Akai's insistence. He claimed it was of critical importance to their mission.

It certainly is, to Rei.

.

The next hours are a blur.

The sofa dips when Akai sits down at his side, the Kudos already having taken their seats on the other side of the small coffee table. (He wishes Akai would sit farther away. That he be less reasonable in his assumptions and demeanour.)

It's somewhat surreal to think that celebrity actress Kudo Yukiko of all people gives him a steaming cup of chamomile lavender honey tea. Good thing working with Vermouth has knocked most of the starstruck behaviour out of him; his younger self would have made a fool of himself.

He can't afford that. After all, they are seeking him out in an official capacity, requesting PSB senior agent Furuya Rei's cooperation.

It certainly is strange for them to reach out through him, considering his known enmity of Akai. But he's a professional - he might be reluctant to work with the man, but it's not his decision to make. He'll relay the offer, unless it's utter garbage.

So he pays attention while they share what they can of their plan to take down the organisation. Listens to their pledge for equal contribution, and their promise of crediting the PSB with a successful operation; an obvious play intended to soothe the wounded pride of the Japanese, after years of illegal activity. But it's the least they can do.

If one were to ask Rei, the offer is certainly worth considering. The PSB has been working the case for five years now, and while they have gathered intel, and managed to place Bourbon as a vital asset, they're barely closer to shutting the organization down than when they started. It's sprawling, interconnected with various businesses, and, worst of all, active internationally. If they don't cut off all its heads at the same time, odds are the members will simply flee to a different branch. Maybe lie low for a bit, and then go about their business with renewed vigour.

It seems like an international cooperation might just be necessary to achieve this task. So he'll be their messenger; it's above his pay grade to decide whether to take them up on the offer or not.

Though privately, he hopes his superiors agree; every day they lose ground to the organization. By this point, Rei doesn't really care anymore whose plan it is that finally does the organization in, as long as it gets done. (And as long as he and the PSB are finally treated with the appropriate amount of respect.)

Still, he can't help thinking they wouldn't be having this conversation now, if these foreign agencies had respected the official channels ahead of time. Maybe Hiro could be hiding in Nagano then, with his brother, instead of being confined to the other half of the globe. In the US, of all the terrible places to be. He shivers.

.

By the time they're done it's very late. Rei is already half-dozing off, despite his best efforts to stay awake. It would be highly irresponsible to drive in this state, so he's asked their hosts for a coffee (he's sure a place housing Akai will have more than enough of it to go around). He'll just rest his eyes for a moment, until they're back.

.

Something light is being dropped on him, almost stirs him to consciousness. But it's warm, soft, and smells of huddling together in an abandoned apartment.

(Of long-forgotten small comforts.)

Not a threat.

Thus satisfied, his body collects its due, and he's dragged back under, into deep, dreamless sleep.

.

Which brings Rei to the reason he's late.

Someone, and he has a very good idea of who it was, put his phone in airplane mode, drew all the curtains shut, and kept the rest of the house quiet.

(Let him sleep for as long as he needed to.)

So Rei wakes up with a start, in a barely familiar place, the digital clock on the wall indicating it's way past opening time for Poirot. Shit.

He grabs his belongings, pistol, clothes and keys and all, and dashes out the door. He swears he can see Okiya - no, Akai, he was right, damn it - look down on him from that favourite window of his. Asshole. Contrary to him Rei has a job, a cover to maintain. He'll get back at him, yet.

.

It should probably worry him that he can perform the drive to Poirot on autopilot. Too many late-night stakeouts turning into impromptu naps, requiring him to drive straight to work after. So much trouble, over nothing. If Akai had just cooperated sooner-

Then, what? Rei hadn't managed to track him down before his supposed death, and the less interaction there is between Okiya Subaru and Amuro Tooru, the better for both of them. He grinds his teeth, barely manages to brake in time for a redlight.

(Hates that he understands the caution, to a degree.)

.

The universe really is conspiring against him, today.

After the lunchtime rush, a certain pocket-sized detective is ushered in through the door, followed by his guardian and her best friend. The kid gives him odd looks all throughout ordering lunch, too sharp in a way that makes the hairs at the back of his neck stand in up. Rei gives him his sunniest smile, and an extra packet of sugar. He's played games with Gin and Vermouth in worse conditions; he won't yield to a particularly precocious six-year-old.

Despite getting more sleep than the last three nights combined, he's not feeling too well. A single good night's rest can't undo weeks of insomnia. If anything, it only makes apparent what he's lacking.

He finds his mind wandering, glad the preparation of food comes automatically, by now. Whisk and mix and pour. Fry, remove from the pan...

"...uro? You seem unwell."

Too-familiar green eyes stare back at him, bags under the eyes and all. Rei barely manages not to flinch.

Of all the people to catch him spacing out, it just has to be Akai's little sister. The gods must truly hate him.

"Ah, miss Sera. I apologize, I was just pondering some new options for our menu." He winks, gives her his most dazzling smile. "The chamomile lavender honey tea cake has me under its spell."

In response, she just wrinkles her nose, unimpressed. Squints at him with those jade eyes that always see through him too easily.

"Are you sure you're not running a fever? It seems a little warm in here already, yet you're working in a sweater."

Rei blinks at that. The temperature seems fine to him. Azusa hasn't said anything about it either.

"I appreciate the concern, but I assure you, I'm perfectly fine. Now, what can I get you?"

One slice of red velvet cake (of course - why did they even keep that on the menu?) and a macchiato later he's rid of her.

For now, at least - she's joined her friends at the window seats, and judging by the way she keeps sneaking glances at him when she thinks he isn't looking, he hasn't seen the last of her yet.

Still, her questions are odd. Surely he doesn't look that terrible?

(Vermouth has taught him some of her secrets; he's been concealing the shadows under his eyes for a while now. Nobody's ever found him out. Why is it now that people notice?)

.

He continues to work mindlessly, unfocused. This damn shift just doesn't seem to want to end.

He just about manages to avoid knocking Ran out for leaning over the counter, into his space. She remains blissfully unaware of the danger she just escaped, smiling brightly, kindly.

"Excuse me, I have a question."

Rei closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, counts to four. Smiles at the girl. "Go ahead", he says, continuing to whisk some cake batter.

Ran leans in closer, conspiratorially.

"Masumi is too shy to ask" - that's a bold-faced lie, if he's ever heard one, and he's something of an expert on the matter - "but she'd love to know where you got that sweater."

Now, Ran's a lovely young lady, always eager to help. It's a pity she's being manipulated for Sera's gain. Because there has to be more to the question, even if Rei can't see it yet.

Of course, he can't tell the girls the truth - Kazami bought it for Bourbon's cover. But the best lies are closest to the truth, so-

"I apologize, but I do not know where it was bought. A friend gave it to me." His best calculated-apologetic smile smoothes the blow, hopefully.

"Oh. I see." Ran visibly deflates. Still, her good manners prevail. "Thank you, though!" And with that, she's heading back to her table.

Strange. What could Sera possibly want with his sweater? If she wanted to track him down, surely there's more efficient ways, and it's not like he doesn't have a dozen similar cream sweaters-

Wait. Cream?

Rei's pretty sure he dressed in black to infiltrate the Kudo manor. He's not been home and he hasn't changed for work.

He manages to supress a groan, but he's sure there's some unpleasant emotion visible on his face.

...he must have grabbed the sweater along with the rest of his belongings in the morning rush.

Now that he's looking at it, it's clearly a little too large for him. It's also warm, fuzzy, soft, and utterly unoffensive. That's probably why it didn't register, before.

The sweater does smell decidedly of Akai - cigarettes and a hint of his obnoxious aftershave. The warm scent of curry is new - though unsurprising, given his foray into cooking. Great. That's why they've been staring at him. Sera likely recognizes the sweater and Conan spends enough time with Akai to know the scent.

His gut instinct is to go change, right now, get rid of the damning piece of connection to the man he has too many conflicting emotions about. But a long-sleeved black turtleneck is hardly appropriate work attire for Poirot. Besides, if he changes now, the pair of detectives watching him will just have their suspicions confirmed.

So he grits his teeth, takes in a deep breath that smells too much like Akai, and gets back to work.

.

Rei does change out of the sweater as soon as he's done with his shift.

(It doesn't help. The scent lingers.)

.

He's tempted to just toss the sweater, but can't help feeling like it would be a waste. It's quality craftsmanship, well-worn but taken care of - this kind of sweater would pill, otherwise.

It really shouldn't be faulted for its owner's flaws.

So he puts the sweater in a bag, intending to have it dry-cleaned and give it back later.

He should really hunt down Akai, too, but if he's honest, he's just too tired. He probably shouldn't even drive, in his condition, but he needs to get to a safe place, to think about the developments of the night.

.

He reports to Kuroda, showers thoroughly, and falls into bed.

.

Rei can't have slept long. The sunset colours the world in blood red hues by the time he wakes up, out of breath, heartbeat too fast.

Visions of smoke and ash cling to him. Explosions, destroying him one by one, until nothing remains but death alone.

Hagiwara and Matsuda, taken by violent flame.

Hiro's remains, crushed and burnt beyond recognition.

Akai's smile, grimly defiant, as he's shot by Kir. He too finds his end in a blaze, lacking glory.

They're gone.

Consumed by the inferno that seems to follow Rei around. Which burns everything he cares about, leaves him freezing in its wake.

(He can't even cry, his tears evaporating in the heat.)

Rei shivers, draws the blankets closer. Hopes for a little bit of cover, a little bit of warmth.

Please. If he could just shake off the nausea. If he could stop his spiralling thoughts. Logically, he knows that's not all true, even if his heart burns. Akai and Hiro aren't dead.

It's a lie, they're alive, it's a lie, they're alive, it's a lie a lie a lie a lie-

A set of sharp barks rips him out of his thoughts, back into the present.

Oh. He's woken Haro.

The little guy stands in front of his bed, ears tucked back and hackles raised. A defiant ball of fluff that cares so much, trying to growl the nightmares away.

(It might just work.)

Slowly, shaking and somewhat off-balance, he reaches down to scoop up his dog. Wiggles the blanket off his shoulders so he may cradle the whining bundle of fur to his chest. It's soothing, to feel the warmth of another living being by his side. They sit, the silence permeated by Haro's huffed breaths. His body heat seeps into Rei's chest, nestles in his heart.

"I apologize for worrying you. I'll be fine, soon."

He's not alone.

Haro nudges his hand, demands to be pet. Rei obliges, of course he does.

He's not alone.

.

Still, the headache is a pain. He won't be able to go back to sleep like this, will need to grab a painkiller.

He makes his way to the kitchen counter, keeping to the walls because he's still somewhat unsteady, carrying his bundle of warmth along.

The dog throws a fit as they pass the bag with Akai's sweater, growling and yapping at it. Despite the circumstances, Rei can't help but smile.

"I'm glad to see we feel the same way about him."

Wait.

Inspiration strikes in the form of a very stupid idea.

Because that sweater, with its stupid mixed scents, reeking of Akai, is proof he didn't just imagine last night's events. Tangible and olfactory and physical proof. If he were to wake from a nightmare, with it by his side...the anger at Akai would surely keep the pain at bay.

It's worth a try.

.

As he goes back to bed, Haro lies down beside him. Rei keeps petting him, one-handedly. With the other, he holds on to a cream sweater that isn't his.

When he breathes, it smells of too-long stakeouts in windy apartments.

Of Rye's extra blankets, the ones he started to bring when he noticed Bourbon always freezing; irritating to no end, how he was always better prepared for cold weather than Rei.

(It smells of Bourbon's cooking, given in exchange for soft blankets.)

Scents of a tentative alliance, as thread-bare as the fabric between them.

Grounded between the warmth of Haro, and the scent of Akai, Rei falls asleep, waiting for the dog days to finally be over.

[nyxofdemons]

this was going to be like a mile long essay but i just realized the most concise way to say it is that "it feels like a retcon that blitz has been so resentful and hostile towards fizz all this time since he was supposed to feel guilty" is simply not a good criticism when we have been shown, time and time again, that blitz's number one defense mechanism when he feels guilty or judged or attacked is to lash out, to deflect and ignore all his responsibility, and to shift the blame to someone else. that's like. his defining character flaw

[laikaflash]

A Mirror Across Timelines: Mitsurugi

(For the September community prompt. This will also be on Ao3 with notes and stuff later.)

As strange as it had been for Mitsurugi to find himself in Beijing, he was brimming with strength. Not a moment ago, he was in a Spanish port town and what had happened there was far too invigorating to have been a dream. In a flash of white light, he was spirited away to a place lit by a strange fiery glow. All around him floated towers and arches that twisted and broke into rubble, all being pulled into a blue maelstrom. The air itself thrummed with power when he dueled the silver-haired shapeshifter Iska Acht who brought him there. Then came a voice that rumbled through the chaos like distant rapids, but its words were no clearer to him even as the second white light faded. Whatever it was that had awakened there—warrior or demon—Mitsurugi wondered if it was waiting for him in Ming.

Passing shop after shop along the wide street, Mitsurugi looked around to get his bearings. Although he could recognize many characters, his pronunciation of any of them would stand out as much as his armor did. Passersby gave him a wide berth and he caught more than a few uneasy looks from them. Mitsurugi maintained a nonchalant attitude that had served him well in his travels, but there seemed to be something more to their wariness. Was Hideyoshi carrying out his ambitions of conquest?

Amid all the chatter, he caught the word wōkòu—Japanese pirate. Mitsurugi jerked his head to his left and saw two young men hurry into an alley and disappear. He scowled, knowing it would make no difference to them that he had slain pirates on his way back to Japan several years ago. Shading his eyes as the sun glared through a gap in the dark clouds, he hastened his steps. Though the clouds were rolling northward, toward the mountains, the air felt heavy enough to rain at any moment. Much to his relief, ahead was a red-fringed banner that bore the character for wine.

He had not realized just how hungry he was until he walked into the tavern. Mitsurugi had no desire to explain in halting Chinese how he had gotten here from Spain, but the tavern-keeper had noticed the reals among his few wén coins and seemed to give a knowing nod. After a filling meal of fried rice and enough wine to ease his nerves, Mitsurugi bought a night’s stay in a small room upstairs. As he settled in and began to unfasten his armor, thunder rumbled outside and rain followed.

Whoever this new opponent is, he thought to himself, maybe the silver-haired child will lead me to him.

A white flash, like lightning striking nearby, startled him to his feet. But no sound came. A blaze of crimson light filled the room. Mitsurugi grabbed his sword, with only his cuirass remaining to shield him. His heart pounded fiercely as he recognized the power that coursed through him once more as he prepared to draw. The red light vanished as though it had been snuffed, leaving only the soft light of the paper lantern overhead.

Now a swordsman stood before him. His short, black hair was streaked with gray, as was his beard. A katana was tied at his sash, yet the top of his frayed, black kimono hung off his left shoulder like a monk’s robe. The hems of his black hakama were equally tattered. A large necklace of prayer beads hanging from his right shoulder seemed to complete his monkish look. Yet, his bare right arm bore what were almost certainly dueling scars.

“Are you here to fight me?” Mitsurugi challenged.

Sardonically, the swordsman raised a thick eyebrow. “Here?” he asked with a barely suppressed laugh. “Don’t you know who I am?” He pointed to a single, round scar just below his right shoulder.

Mitsurugi sheathed his sword and instinctively touched the same spot on his cuirass. “How…?” he gasped. “How is it possible?”

“You should know.”

There was no mistaking the scar from the tanegashima duel. Mitsurugi remembered how Iska Acht changed her form three times to test him, but it had been nothing like this. If this was a trick, he suspected that his older self would not have bothered to kick off his geta. “I mean… How did you get here?”

“Ah, that. The Astral Chaos brought me here, and there’s no telling where it can take you. I could’ve gotten lost there if it wasn’t for you. Tell me, where are we now?”

“Beijing. The outer city.”

The swordsman took a glance from the lattice window. “So it is. What year is it? You look about twenty years younger than me.”

“Eighteenth year of Tenshō, unless something happened while I was gone. Or, an Earth Ox year.”

At this, his older self cracked a wry smile. “Hm. Say, is that Shishi-Oh?”

Mitsurugi hesitated, noticing that the grip on the swordsman’s katana was black. “Yes.”

“May I see it for a moment?” The swordsman’s voice lowered to an almost reverent tone.

Mitsurugi’s heart sank at the thought that his finest sword had been lost. Even so, he unsheathed it. The older Mitsurugi gazed upon Shishi-Oh as though it were a son he had not seen in years. His expression turned somber and wizened.

“Cherish it. Hone it and wield it well.”

“Of course.” Mitsurugi gravely nodded and sheathed his sword. “I need it in top condition. There’s an opponent I’m supposed to meet. He must have something to do with this Astral Chaos. I heard something—”

Surprise flashed in the older swordsman’s eyes. “What did you hear?”

“I couldn’t make it out. That silver-haired child, what’s her name…? Iska Ahha…” He felt his throat catch on what was meant to be a guttural sound, along with slight embarrassment for it. “Acht, that’s it! I thought this Iska Acht would bring me to a worthy opponent, but well, here I am. Whatever that voice was, she had different ideas.”

The older swordsman thoughtfully rubbed his chin. “You’ll meet him, this new opponent.”

“Where did—uh, where might I find him?” Mitsurugi felt as though he had been talking to Edge Master, rather than himself.

“You won’t find him right away, but you will need one thing. Head to the fortress at Xiwei on the western border of Ming, and in time, you’ll meet your greatest opponent yet.”

Mitsurugi grinned. “That’s more like it! But what am I supposed to find there?”

“A shard of the very sword that started this. You’ll know you’ve found it when you feel it.”

With his brow furrowed, Mitsurugi wondered if it was that same power he had felt in the Astral Chaos. “If that’s so, I’ll prepare to set off at once!”

The older swordsman grinned back at him. Then crimson light filled the room once more. A regretful look crossed his face he stepped back into his geta. “I'm afraid I can’t stay much longer.”

Mitsurugi stood transfixed at the glowing portal, half-expecting Iska Acht to appear. He almost wanted to reach out to his older self, but he gratefully bowed.

“Fare well.”

Mitsurugi felt a chill as his older self stepped into the twisting chaos. At once, the crimson light was gone, and in one last flash of white, the room was once again as it should have been. He fell silent as the sounds of people in the tavern, noises of the street, and rain returned all at once to his ears.

“Damn,” he hissed, pressing a hand to his forehead. “I could’ve asked him what changed in his time!” But he knew it would be a long time before he reached Japan again, and he was no stranger to long journeys. Mitsurugi quietly settled on the bed and began to plan. Soul Edge itself seemed nearer than it had ever been.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

sorry if you've already mentioned but what (re?)ignited your love of comics/x-men/cherik? curious because there are so many different adaptations of them

i think im gonna speak for a few (or a lot of) people when i say that TL;DR the wolverine x deadpool movie that came out this summer is what pulled me back into comics and i COULD leave it there but i will go into excruciating and unnecessary detail instead because i love an origin story and i love oversharing.

under the cut tho because im nice sometimes (there's also wxdp doodles in here. if you want to see that)

ironically (and probably commonly), growing up i was more of an avengers kid. Kinda. Loosely <- binge watched the cartoons and movies and read copious amounts of comics and fics and i am hoarding fanart in my old dresser as we speak ok 'loosely' is a modest lie.

embarrassingly i remember getting into discus cause of captain america LMAO so yeah needless to say i was a Humble Fan- me joining my school's comic class/club didnt help either (shoutout to my teach from that she was the realest one out there for. A Multitude of reasons). she definitely is was inspires me to even draw still and make comics and i often think bout the tips i learned from her class tbh she was great

back to the movies t and comics tho, i got into em because my brother would offer to take me and that's how we'd hang out (i rarely saw movies in theaters and i even more rarely went anywhere as a teenager. still kinda like that today tbh ooops) and yk. it just snowballed after that.

my brother and i have always liked comics- he just more than me for a while (though he still very much loves comics and As We Know From My Posts we still talk about them whenever i see him To An Exhausting Degree)

durin then i was really into stony and i have a few surviving doodles i made but those are between me and god. and anyone who asks tbh LOL

'snap can you make this related to x-men again this is long' ok so fast forward to This Summer again I Still Don't Really See Movies but my brother offered to take me and this was the first time i'd actually seen an x-men movie in full

as a kid i only remember seeing the 'perfection' scene between erik and raven in first class while i was channel surfing. pretty sure i changed the channel after seeing mystique naked cause i was scared my parents would get mad at me if they caught me watching it LOL

BUT MOVING ON As A Kid i think it's also natural you'll sometimes watch 92 if it's on And I Did though evidently it didn't stick too hard (i do remember really liking beast and gambit though.... still do really): my knowledge of x-men was. INCREDIBLY sparse. like diabolically so so i didnt have too much expectations (aside from the fact i vaguely liked deadpool beforehand).

tbh i dont know why my bro never took me to see any of the x-men movies. it's not like he doesn't Also like x-men (90% sure nightcrawler's his favorite but my brother will be caught dead saying he has absolute favorites like that)- he owns a bitch load of deadpool comics/omnibus sets too (of which ive read over the years and reread this year) but Shrug moving on

Much Like Most Of The Internet i fell down the rabbit hole that way. i have some doodles i made a couple days after seeing WxDP that i now have an excuse to throw at all of you Look And Perceive

and so. As I Do. i got curious and told myself i'd binge watch all the x-men movies the week before i went back to school And Then I Did ft. My Brother Sometimes and then i said i'd binge watch all of '92 and And I Did That ft. My Brother Sometimes But Less So and now we're here. currently watching Evolution...

once i got to school i realized i lived near a comic shop and started getting into the comics that way (the first ones i got since going down this rabbit hole was Magneto Was Right!, The Resurrection of Magneto, and The Trial of Magneto. if you were curious !!!!! clearly i didnt care too much about context i just needed to see My Guy jelvejlkvj i have no regrets and Evidently ive read more since)

i'm pretty sure what dragged me into cherik specifically was the fact i saw a clip of The Famous ending to 92 where erik's aghast at the notion jean even has to question his love for charles. i think that was what officially had me refocus my lens on them: not a single poolverine thought after that LOL (all the cherik posting i saw on twitter definitely helped too but that was the nail in the coffin for any other interests i had: i was locked into cherik and x-men in general now)

that clip specifically, i was surprised at the fact they- frequently even- have the x-men franchise say erik loves charles and vice versa so bluntly. even if it's not meant to be romantic, i fear im just a fan of how casually the word's thrown around with them two and i got tender bout it all. Then Yk. i just live for the drama. the hilarity even. the sincerity .... they make me sick if i think of them too long so im gonna end it here

before i go tho ironically enough, the first x-men issue i owned was This one (story a this is that while stuck in some wacko dimension charles accidentally gets himself trapped in logan's mind while utilizing his astral projection. if you were curious). pretty sure i got it for free with another comic set i got years ago since our old comic shop loved to do that, but it's poetic aint it. maybe ill doodle something referencing it..

i should probably look into finishing this arc someday im Dummy curious to even know how it started and how it ends.....

[electrikworm]

I remembered that I like Aerobics :)

Taglist:

@yeehawgeek

Ref. Images under the cut:

Left is Jane Fonda and middle is Kathy Lee Crosby. I couldn't find out who the three women in the right image are, but as far as I could tell, the photo was taken by Dennis Hallinan.

[dangoarts]

unfortunately for everyone especially myself i am still thinking about minecraft story mode