#or i really focus on his eyes

[nessypanda-art]

Thought it high time to give Albus the dramatic art treatment!

[xxplastic-cubexx]

im with fam but i always thinka him so doodle time

[aliettali]

skilltober day 19: hand-eye coordination

(HOW ON EARTH DO YOU DESIGN THIS BASTARD)

[skeletonlover69]

thoughts i've had.

[gen4grl]

a nap in the sun

[jesuis-assez]

↠ Tim & Lucy ↳ 2x10 - The Dark Side

[reineydraws]

wanted: marine hunter takanome mihawk

[paper-possum-party-pal]

I’ve decided to draw a bunch of people’s Narrators starting with @betrootsoup’s Narrator!

Don’t mind my sona, they’re just a curious fella!

I’m a sucker for split faced designs and love the outfit that @betrootsoup chose for their Narrator! I really hope I did the design justice!

Closeups

And to everyone else out there, watch out!

Your Narrator’s might be next

[blighted-lights]

having to restrain myself from making a ridiculously long meta analysis of mtmte ravage and why there was so much potential lost for him + why narritvely his character works but the narrative doesn't work for his character. i have no idea how if word any of it but. i am so so tempted.

ravage does what the narrative needs him to do very well! but in order to do that, it fucks up some important key points of his characterization. plot points are picked up and then dropped, his abilities are forgotten about frequently, and he's passively treated as an animal despite the original emphasis that ravage isn't a pet. he's such a weird character in mtmte. wish i could word what i wanna say about him in a way that i like.

[clownsuu]

Hey I have a question but are you the original creator for mafia mob au or is someone else cause I think I stumble in a TikTok creater and they made a mafia wally au. Both arts are amazing but I was just curious to know.

I think I know who you may be talking about! There is basically two “mafia” aus lol, theirs and mine- our aus are completely separate from each other and from what I know, have no affiliation with each other whatsoever besides coincidence of universe

[jakes3resin]

Modern Reincarnation AU Part 4 ✨️

Part 3

"John?"

Bucky storms past Jack into the townhouse. It's rude, but he'll apologize later. He doesn't know why he came here instead of his apartment. Old habits dying a hard drawn out death, maybe? He hadn't been thinking clearly. Hadn't been thinking at all really until he found himself waved through by his father's security detail.

"Oh, is that John?" He hears his father call out, dress shoes clicking against hardwood as he walks closer, but Bucky stomps up the stairs towards his room before he sees the man. His breaths come out in rushes as tears keep burning his eyes.

Shit, he thought he'd gotten those under control on the train.

Slamming his door, he slides down until he rests against the floor. He tosses his bag to the side wincing at the sound it makes. Hopefully his laptop survives. At some point he does actually have to do the work he went to the library to finish.

The library.

Buck and Curt.

They wouldn't, Bucky tells himself. They wouldn't. Curt was one of his best friends, and Buck loved him. They...

Fuck they were roommates! Why the hell were they talking about that shit in public? In the place Bucky considered his? Why even pretend? Why drag Bucky into this? Why?!

Bucky buries his face into his hands. His chest hitches as he tries not to sob. He doesn't want his father or Jack to worry about him. He doesn't want to talk this through.

He wants...

He wants Buck. He wants the other to pull him into his arms. To kiss him again as if today had never happened. There was something else about being with Buck, something he'd never felt with anyone else be they friend or lover. He made Bucky feel safe and wanted. Wanted not because of his family and connections but because he was himself.

Buck would know how to make him feel better.

He laughs quietly through his tears. Distantly, he can hear Jack briefing his father downstairs, the words faint but he hears his name and tears used together. His laughter is more sob than anything else. Of course, the one good thing he'd found would end up belonging to someone else. Story of his life.

✨️

There's too much work to do. At least that's the excuse Bucky gave himself for not confronting Buck and Curt immediately. There wasn't time for a confrontation and subsequent blowup of his life.

At least that's the lie he tells himself.

Bucky chews on the straw of his iced coffee as he skims yet another chapter. There's a pumpkin muffin in front of him that he swore would be his reward for getting through this fourty page reading. Midterms have come and gone, but Bucky still has deadlines to meet and research to complete. He can't sit in his room forever, as much as his father and Jack would sometimes prefer that. Better protection from whatever sent Bucky crying to his room as his father would argue. Better protection for his father's political career Jack would quip.

Speaking of protection, Bucky glanced to the side of the cafe towards his security detail. At least these guys attempted to blend in. His father must have briefed them on his track record with previous details. Bucky smirked around his straw. They'd be easy to lose come rush hour. A bit of fun even.

Bucky turned back to his reading, squinting down at the words.

"American airmen during World War II had a dismal life expectancy. It was not a matter of if an airman was going to be shot down but when. Once downed, airmen faced an uncertain 'reception committee,' as Second Lieutenant Kenneth C. Reimer noted in a drawing he made as a POW in Stalag Luft I in Barth, Germany... 'for every [ground combat] soldier killed in action, three or four others would be wounded; air combat was completely the opposite. For every man wounded, three were killed.'"

"Bucky?" A hand settles on his shoulder jolting him out of his reading.

Bucky kept his shoulders loose as he turns around. Buck stares down at him, a bright smile on his face that Bucky can't help but match despite his grief. It wasn't even something he could control. Buck smiled at him, so he smiled back. Bucky felt pitiful.

Buck's sky blue eyes are clear and happy as they dart across Bucky's face. There's no sign that he realizes Bucky overheard him yesterday.

Bucky lifts a hand to calm his detail, all alert now after Buck's friendly greeting. He sees the nearest agent settle back into their chair but knows none of them are relaxed. He darts a look up at Buck, peering at the other through his glasses to see if he'd noticed the disturbance.

Buck's gaze, as it always does, doesn't leave Bucky's face. Even when he rounds the table to sit down, his eyes are pinned on Bucky and nothing else.

"Sorry I couldn't meet up yesterday," Buck dumps his bag onto the chair next to him. Bucky's smile twitches. Buck sits down across from him. His legs tangle with Buck's own under the table, Buck's foot gently bumping his ankle.

"It's fine," Bucky chomps down on his straw. "How was your advisor meeting anyway?"

"It was good," Buck smiles at him, not even a hint of guilt on his face. "Real good."

Buck had told Bucky he was called to fill in a shift yesterday and that was why he supposedly hadn't been able to meet up. A lie Buck hadn't even bothered to remember. His advisor meetings were also always in the morning on Thursdays. Today was Tuesday.

Buck was still lying to him, and he wasn't even guilty about it.

✨️

"I went by your place yesterday. You weren't home." Buck swings their clasped hands through the air.

"Hmm?" Bucky glanced away from the traffic around them. His detail were staying a conspicuous ten feet back, but they were annoyingly keen when Buck offered to walk him back to his apartment.

Bucky would lose them another day.

Buck laughed, deep and airy. Bucky struggled not to lose himself in it. That was what made this so hard. Bucky still loved Buck, and Buck still acted like Bucky was his whole world and then some.

"Oh," Bucky finally processed what Buck had said. "No, I went to my dad's for the night."

"Really?" Buck squeezes his hand. Bucky hates how much comfort Buck's touch gives him.

Does Curt receive the same...? No Bucky doesn't let himself finish the thought.

"How was it?" Concern bleeds into Buck's voice. Bucky hates how genuine it sounds. He's starting to use that word more than any other. The longer he looks at Buck, the more he has to hate to save his heart.

"Fine," Bucky shrugged stepping further away as they came to a stoplight. "The usual."

"The Bucky I know wouldn't give such a short answer," Buck stepped closer eating up the space Bucky had put between them. "Not unless something happened yesterday. Come on, you okay?"

Bucky felt the words bubbling up his throat.

I saw you. I saw him. Why are you here staring at me like I'm the most important thing in the world when you have him? Why are you doing this to me? I love you. I love you so much it feels like my soul hurts. I hate you.

"Spent most of the night avoiding his staffers." Bucky lied. "Barely saw him, Jack either, yet he still asked me to move home at breakfast."

Buck nods, accepting his lies. Was that what they were now? Not a relationship, simply a lie? Bucky wasn't sure anymore. His heart thumped against his rib cage, anger and love in every other beat, but he wasn't sure which would win.

Buck had become his whole world in such a short amount of time. He thought the feeling was mutual, but yesterday showed just how stupid Bucky really was.

"How about this," Buck nudged his hip. "Why don't I stay over tonight? We'll binge a few movies, order something, and have night in. Then,"

Buck paused with a stupid grin that, despite himself, Bucky still found charming. Fuck, he was truly pathetic for this.

"I'll sweep you off your feet and take you to bed. How does that sound?"

"Won't Curt be expecting you?" The question pops out of him without meaning to. Gale furrows his brow, confusion growing in his eyes.

"Curt won't miss me tonight."

Sure, he won't, Bucky thinks bitterly.

✨️

"John," Jack's voice was a surprise. Especially considering it was his father's number calling him.

"You've gotten much better at your Jack impression," Bucky answers just to be annoying. "Does he know you impersonate him on official numbers?"

"You're not as funny as you believe."

"Ooh, you even have his disapproving tone down. I feel like he's in the room with us!" Bucky laughs. He peers around the corner. Buck's still where he left him, buried in his phone texting someone.

Bucky doesn't let himself think about who that person is.

"Your father wants to invite you to a dinner tomorrow. You can even bring that boy that walked you home. The one that hasn't left." Pages flip in the background as Jack talks. Probably governmental reports his father was supposed to read.

"You know you're not his chief of staff anymore?" Bucky leaned his hip against the counter. "You don't have to read reports or wrangle his kid to government dinners to help his image as a family man. You're his husband now, you're the family."

"You're my kid too by that logic, so wrangling you gets to stay on my resume." Bucky snorts out a laugh. "Besides, it's not a state dinner or anything. He just wants to see you."

Guilt gnaws at his heart. Buck pokes his head into the kitchen, phone no longer holding all of his attention.

"Fine," Bucky groans. "But if he brings up the apartment again, I'm walking out with my food on my plate even if it's the good plates."

"See you tomorrow at 7 then. Bring your boy." Jack hangs up without a goodbye.

✨️

It'll be me, and it'll be you, Buck.

Don't count on it.

Bucky jerks awake. His dream flashes through his head too fast for him to remember anything. Scenes superimpose over each other, words jumble together. At least this one wasn't a nightmare. Those always left him shakey and off balance all day.

His dreams have always been vivid, ever since he was a kid. The child psychologists he'd gone to had said it was normal and simply a sign of a well developed imagination.

Bucky runs a hand through his hair groaning when he glances towards his bedside clock. It's nearly an hour until he has to get up, but he knows that he won't be getting back to sleep before then.

Buck lays curled up next to him on the bed. Bucky reaches out to brush a hand through the other's hair. Buck twitches leaning into the feeling for half a second but doesn't stir beyond that.

Bucky sighs. Extricating himself from Buck's long limbs takes time. Somehow in the night, Buck had nearly fused them together as if even asleep the man refused to let him go. Arms layered over arms. Legs tangled together. It's an excellent distraction from his dreams but not from the problems of the waking world. If only he could forget those once he woke up like he did his dreams.

It's only when he's pouring water for his coffee that he realizes he recognizes the voice from his dream. A first for him.

It'd been Buck's.

✨️

(Not a confrontation I know, but it builds my AU lol)

[spiralmode]

wait im rewatching saw 2004 and as a germaphobe one of the cruelest things i had to watch adam endure was dig around in that toilet ("find anything?" "no solids!" 🤢) anyway so he had just taken out the play me tape out of a ziploc bag and that stuck with me because I was like okay that's something he could use idk for what but for something, and so then that toilet scene happens and im like yelling at my screen adam!!! no!!!!!!!!! use the ziploc bag as a glove ahhhhhhh !! but he just went right in there with only one small moment of hesitation

[pikuna]

DanDaDan Fanfic - You, Me and I - Chapter 2

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: F/M

Fandoms: Dandadan (Anime)

Relationship: Ayase Momo/Takakura “Okarun” Ken

Characters: Ayase Momo, Takakura “Okarun” Ken, Shiratori Aira (Dandadan), Enjouji “Jiji” Jin, Vamola (Dandadan), Sakata Kinta (Dandadan), Ayase Seiko, Turbo-Granny (Dandadan)

Additional Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Humor, Yokarun, Youkai Takakura “Okarun” Ken, Protective Takakura “Okarun” Ken, Doppelganger, Soul Separation, Post-Space Globalists Arc (Dandadan), Dandadan Manga Spoilers, Pre-Relationship, Awkwardness, Yokarun is too honest and Okarun attempts damage control

Summary:

A lot of weird things had happened in Okarun’s life since he met Momo.

Befriending ancient ghosts, stopping an alien invasion and being able to travel telephone lines.

This has become his new normal.

But seeing a version of yourself holding the girl of your heart in a tight hug and purring like an overgrown cat was still very surreal, even for his new standards.

Could you be jealous of yourself?

AO3 Link

Prev Chapter | Start | Next Chapter

The woosh of the ocean.

Momo's brilliant laugh.

Those were the last echoes of his dream Okarun could still hear when he slowly started to wake up. The sun was shining into the room, right into his face. That was okay, he wasn't one to sleep that long anyway. And he was surprisingly well rested. The fear of a restless sleep or horrible dreams seemed to have been unwarranted. Such was the power of thinking happy thoughts about Momo.

He felt around for his glasses and slowly sat up when he found them. Rubbing his eyes and putting his glasses on, he looked towards his friends.

Jiji was yawning, stretching under the blanket of the futon and mumbled a good morning.

Kinta was still deep in slumber.

Smiling, Okarun wondered what they would have for breakfast.

Suddenly a shriek rang through the house. It was a girl's voice.

Any sleepiness was instantly gone. Okarun and Jiji looked at each other and then jumped to their feet, running out of the room.

Kinta kept snoring.

Adrenaline rushed through Okarun. It probably was nothing, but with the events from yesterday still fresh on their mind, they were still easy to spring into action.

Slower than he would have liked, they reached Momo's door, Jiji being first. Just a small part of Okarun wondered how he was able to be faster than him.

"Momo, you alright?" Jiji shouted into the room as soon as he opened the door and entered, Okarun right behind him.

What the boys saw made them stop in their tracks.

"Momo, what are you doing? Let go of Takakura this instant!" Aira growled.

"I'm not the one who is hugging here!" Momo bit back.

"Hugging!" Vamola exclaimed happily.

They were not looking at Okarun. They were looking at a figure with grey skin and white hair: his Yokai form, cuddling up to a very flustered Momo.

A few minutes earlier

Momo grumbled in her sleep. She had forgotten to close the curtains of her window completely last night, so the early morning sun was tickling her nose, trying to wake her up. But she didn't want to, her body still feeling a bit achy and she was just comfy in her bed. With another grumble she turned around, facing away from the window.

A cool thumb stroked over her knuckles.

That was part of her dream, right? Her whole dream had been of her and Okarun holding hands, talking about everything and nothing while walking past different sceneries. Just the two of them. No annoying skanks or vicious aliens.

"Momo-chan~"

A delightful shiver ran down her spine when he whispered her name like this. His raspy voice tickled close to her ear, making her hum in contentment.

But...he never called her Momo-chan. Only when he was transformed. And that was exactly what his voice sounded like.

Confused about this, she slowly started to blink the sleep away. A pair of gentle vermillion colored eyes looked at her, a hint of a smile in them.

Huh, how odd. Aren't his eyes more glowing red when in this form? Was it because his black maw was missing?

"Good morning Momo-chan," he greeted her, voice still low, only for her to hear.

"Mrning Okarun," she slurred sleepily.

Then it hit her. Okarun was here in her room, transformed for whatever reason and very close.

Her eyes shot open, wide awake and she flinched back. She could see now that he was kneeling in front of her bed and when she flinched back, she noticed that she was actually holding a hand in hers. His hand. She was so confused. And her cheeks were so very red.

"Hope you had a nice dream," he almost purred at her, unfazed by her flinching. Unlike her.

'How can his voice sound like...that,' she panicked and shuddered pleasantly. It felt like the vibration of his voice gently brushed her ears and then danced down her spine. 'Stop focusing so much on this!' she chided herself and managed to sit up.

"Okarun, what the hell are you doing here?" she quietly hissed. Her eyes darted to the two futons on the floor, which luckily did not move aside from slowly raising and falling.

"Watching over you." His voice and also expression were so matter of fact. As usual.

What was not usual was how he stood up and sat down on the bed right beside her. She just looked puzzled at him. Because he had never been so bold before and because she didn't get what he was saying.

"Watching over- What do you mean?"

But then it dawned on her and she looked down. She had dreamt of holding Okarun's hand. And here she was, still holding his hand. And she didn't feel like letting it go yet.

She looked back at him. His eyes never left her, but she noticed how his shoulders slouched a bit. Did he look...guilty?

"You were having a nightmare. Thought I could help you with that."

Momo let out a small, breathy laugh. Somehow he knew she had a horrible nightmare, came to comfort her in the gentlest way and now felt guilty for it. He was so sweet, even when he was in his Yokai form.

"You did. Thank you Okarun," she said with a smile. This perked him up visibly, his slouch gone again.

But speaking of his Yokai form...

"That aside...any particular reason why you're transformed?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. He just answered with a shrug and a simple "No."

Then why was he transformed in the first place?

She wanted to question more, but he was moving now. Letting go of her hand, something she did not like but would not utter out loud, he scooted back to sit more comfortably on her bed. Before she could ask what he was doing, one hand was on her lower back and the other one went under knees. He gave her no time to protest and honestly, she was too stunned to do so and was only able to squeak in surprise. He picked her up to set her down between his legs, making it so she was sitting sideways against him. Having her placed where he wanted her to be, Okarun moved the hand from under her knees on top of them and wrapped his other arms around her back, hugging her close to him.

"You're so warm~" he hummed and nuzzled his face into her hair.

"Okaruuun..." she whined, her voice very high pitched. Her brain was short circuiting, not knowing if she should enjoy the attention or flee his arms.

It was not like she disliked being cuddled by Okarun, very much the opposite. She had thought many nights about cuddling with him. But she didn't know if he had wanted it. And if at all, she had expected it would be with his more shy self. Not the one that would just casually pick her up and make her skin tingle with his voice. She was sure she felt warm for him, because she was boiling in embarrassment. Not even his cool touch could change much about that.

Before she could even begin to calm her nerves and maybe even enjoy the cuddle, she looked towards the futons and saw that Aira was sitting up, her back to them.

'Fuuuuuuuu...'

If Momo had been nervous before, she was full on panicking now. It was one thing if Okarun suddenly wanted a cuddle, but absolutely not with an audience. She started to squirm in his arms, but his hold was firm.

"What's with all that noise?" Aira grumbled and turned around to look disgruntled at Momo, who went completely stiff in Okarun's arms. A few seconds went by, in which Aira was processing what she was seeing. And then she let out a shriek, one that startled Vamola awake, looking around confused.

Momo sank even more into Okarun with a groan and covered her beet red face with her hands.

"What a bummer..." Okarun grumbled into her hair.

Back to present

"Why are you even in here Takakura? This is the girls room!" Aira complained. It was very visible that she was jealous of Momo's position.

The Yokai Okarun opened one eye lazily to look annoyed at the girl.

"Don't bother me, yo. Sat on the floor the whole night. Want to cuddle with Momo-chan now."

To emphasise his statement, he raised Momo up with his legs and now nuzzled his cheek into the nape of her shoulder. Aira let out a shocked gasp, hurt at the words and the action.

Okarun, the human, just looked shocked at what was happening in front of him. His thoughts ran a hundred miles per hour. How on earth was he standing right here...but also over there at the same time? Cuddling Momo nonetheless, a fact that stung. Not because of jealousy. Absolutely not. But who or what was he? A clone? A time traveller?

Having apparently enough of the humiliation, Momo forced her way out of her captors arms, albeit he let her go with a displeased hum as soon as he realised she really didn't want to be held anymore. The moment Momo was standing up, Aira went up right into her face, demanding to free Takakura of whatever spell she had him under.

While the two girls were squabbling, cheered on by Vamola, the eyes of the two Okarun met.

Okarun gulped. He had never been at the receiving end of the piercing stare of his Yokai form before. There was never time to look at himself in the mirror when fully transformed and he had never changed outside of combat or training. His face was very hard to read. A lack of expression, just as the others had described to him before. How could they handle this? It was kinda unnerving.

Beside him, he could hear Jiji mutter: "This is wild man...," looking between the two Okaruns.

And then suddenly, the other him nodded. "Yo."

Was he...greeting him?

Polite as ever, Okarun couldn't help but raise a hand to return the gesture. "Uhm...hi."

The girls had noticed that Yokai Okarun had addressed someone, so they stopped their fighting and looked over to the door. At first, they only spotted Jiji.

"Enjouji!" Aira shouted, letting go of Momo and stomped towards him. "This is the girls room! Neither of you two should be...here..?" That's when she noticed Okarun behind Jiji. Her eyes went wide.

"Takakura? But...how..?" She looked between him and the other one still sitting on the bed. Momo craned her neck behind her to see what got the other girl so bewildered. Her eyes also went wide and darted between the two Okaruns.

The Yokai was unbothered by all the stares, while the human scratched his head awkwardly.

"Why are there two Okaruns?" Momo asked the question out loud that went through all their heads. The others looked at them, waiting for an answer. While nobody was outright in a fighting stance, Okarun could tell that they were tense, aside from a very puzzled Vamola. And he couldn't fault them. Who knows who that other guy was and what he wanted.

"W-well, he could be a shapeshifter?" he tried to provide some possibilities. "Or someone cloned me? Maybe the Serpoians got some DNA from-"

"And who says that he is the fake one?" He flinched when Momo suddenly interrupted him. Her eyes had a hard glint to them. He didn't like it at all that she looked at him like this.

She stretched her arms out and two psychic hands wrapped around the Okaruns, lifting them up from the ground. Not gripping hard, but in a hold that made it impossible for them to move.

"M-Miss Ayase, what are you doing?" he asked her confused, his legs wiggling in the air. His counterpart just sagged forward like a rag doll and muttered: "How depressing..."

"Just making sure neither of you can run away until we know who the fake one is. Sorry Okarun."

"No one here is a fake, yo."

The Yokai got ignored, as Momo was closing her eyes in concentration and the others mulled over how they could identify who was the real Okarun. Jiji was the first to come up with an idea, tapping his fist into his flat hand.

"How about we ask questions that only the real Okarun knows?" he suggested with an enthusiastic smile. Aira looked a bit sceptical at that. "We don't know how much the fake one has spied on us, he could have loads of information."

While the two discussed how effective questions would be, Okarun just hung forward like a wet dog in the grasp of the psychic hands, mimicking the other Okarun. He was not happy with this situation at all, how his friends talked about him like he was not there. He had hoped they would see that he was definitely not the fake one. Never would he transform and just strutting into Momo's room to cuddle with her!

....

Okay, maybe he would do that, only when he was transformed. The non-existing filter in his Yokai form did not apply only to what he would say, but also what he would do. Most of the time he had managed to keep anything under control that would result in unnecessary physical contact that was not battle related, even though his body was literally screaming at him to nuzzle up to Momo post battle.

Letting out a deep sigh, he looked up to see his counterpart still just hanging there, his eyes fixed on Momo. Okarun did not like this at all and glared at him. The Yokai must have sensed the glare, as just his eyes moved towards him. Usually, when something was a threat, especially towards Momo, his Yokai instincts would prickle in the back of his mind. But the whole time, he had felt nothing of that sort.

"Hey, Okaruns!"

Jiji's cheery voice snapped them out of their staring contest and they looked towards him.

"What's my favourite football team?" he asked them with a wide grin, seemingly very proud of his question.

Is he serious? Not only was that a very simple question for a friend of his, but it was also the same the Kita family had asked him back when they tried to figure out if he was a friend of Jiji.

"Paris Saint Germain," Okarun answered without hesitation. Same time as the Yokai.

"Wohoo, ten points to both of you!" Jiji cheered, pointing finger guns at them.

"The perv could have answered that question," Aira growled at him. "It defeats the purpose if you ask such simple questions." She tapped her finger against her chin while she raked her brain for a good question. She let out a satisfied hum when she got an idea: "This is something only Takakura should know: How many musicians did we fight in school for the old cat's training?"

A relieved sigh escaped Okarun. Luckily she didn't ask which musicians they had been. He might know half of them.

"Six of them." Again he answered in union with the Yokai, which in turn made Aira groan in frustration: "This is getting us nowhere!"

Now Vamola chirped up, waving her arms: "Secret!"

Well, Okarun did tell Vamola something that he hadn't told anybody else...yet. But he would absolutely not reveal what it was in these circumstances and definitely not to their whole friend group. He squirmed slightly in the grip of the spectral hands. Surely there was a different way to solve this?

Apparently the Yokai had far less hesitations to speak of the secret he had shared: "We told Vamola that we lo-" "ABSOLUTELY NOT!"

Everyone in the room looked startled at Okarun, even Momo who had been silent the whole time. He had interrupted the other Okarun the second he realised he was about to spill the beans.

"There are NO secrets I shared with Vamola. Absolutely nothing!" he insisted with burning cheeks and shot the Yokai an angry glare, daring him to continue to speak. He was actually opening his mouth, ready to speak up again, when Momo interrupted him: "Forget those stupid questions. Okarun."

Both of them looked at her expectantly, but her eyes were on the human one. "Can you transform?"

"Huh?"

What would prove that? Maybe that he wasn't a clone, but a shapeshifter could kind of transform. But he could see it in her eyes that she had an idea and so he did as she asked...or at least he tried.

If he wasn't transforming automatically due to danger and instinct, he usually just had to summon that tickle of power from the back of his mind and he would change. But nothing happened. His bones stayed the same, not even the slightest tingle under his skin. Confused, he looked down at his unchanged body.

"I...I can't," he stammered.

"What do you mean, you can't?" Aira asked, baffled.

"I don't...I don't know. It's like...the spiritual energy is...gone."

He felt nothing at all. Even when Momo was suppressing Turbo Granny's curse in the beginning, he could always tell that something was there. Right now he felt...nothing. Normal. Just like before the curse ever happened.

Confusion and a bit of panic rose in him and he looked at Momo. Her face was in a frown, like she just received news she didn't like.

"You!" Now her attention was on the Yokai. "Can you change back?"

"Sorry babe, ain't happening," he just answered, looking rather bored and resting his chin on the spectral hand.

"How is this possible?" she muttered to herself.

"Penny for your thoughts Momo?" Jiji asked her.

"She probably spotted something with her aura sight."

Everyone in the room jumped as Seiko suddenly chimed in. Turning around, they saw her leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed.

"You kids can't go one day without something weird happening, huh?" She looked from one Okarun to the other and then at her granddaughter. "So, what's the deal with them?"

Everyone's attention went to Momo, who thought about the best way to describe what she discovered. While she did so, she lowered her arms, the psychic hands letting go of the two and vanishing.

"Yeah, I checked their auras. Everyone's unique, you can't copy that. At least I don't think you can." Her grandmother nodded in confirmation, so she continued, looking at Human Okarun: "His aura is the normal Okarun aura. He is the real deal."

Okarun put a hand on his chest and exhaled, while Aira, Jiji and Vamola cheered. Good that this was solved. And without having to spill any embarrassing secrets.

"The problem is just..." Momo spoke up again. She was chewing her lips, annoyed at a riddle she couldn't solve. "Turbo Granny's spiritual power. I can usually see it within Okarun, but it's completely gone. That's why he can't transform."

"Huuuuhhhhhh?!" everyone exclaimed in surprise. How could the power just be...gone?

"I assume that has something to do with him?" Seiko jerked her chin towards the Yokai and Momo nodded.

"Exactly, he-...uhm..hi." She had turned her head around to look at the Yokai, but stopped with her words when she noticed that he was standing right behind her, almost looming over her. Not that she felt intimidated by this at all. Just slightly warm.

"Hi~," he replied, looking down at her. Again with those gentle eyes. Yep, she was just a bit warm.

Clearing her throat, she continued: "His case is a bit weird. Usually Turbo Granny's spiritual power is intertwined with Okarun's. When he is normal, his own aura is more dominant, when he is transformed her spiritual power is dominant. But he," she pointed with her thumb behind her at the Yokai, who decided to slouch forward and rest his chin on the top of her head with a hum. Momo was very proud of herself for not squealing and keeping her cool. She focused on Okarun's very appalled expression, which looked funny. "He technically has no own aura. Most of him is made of Turbo Granny's spiritual power, contained by a few layers of Okarun's aura to make him look like...him. At least that's the best way I can describe it."

Seiko hummed in understanding at that explanation, while most of the others scratched their heads, trying to wrap their heads around this information.

Not Okarun. He only understood that the Yokai powers he had were not with him anymore. They were loose. He knew best how dangerous and uncontrollable they could be. And they were standing way too close to Momo.

"So, he is just Turbo Granny's powers, but still looking like me?" he said and walked towards the Yokai. In an attempt to get some distance between him and Momo, he grabbed his upper arm and pulled him away from her, to stand between them. To protect her of course. Not because he could feel a prickle of jealousy. Not at all.

Momo blinked confused at Okarun, manhandling his other self, who didn't seem unfazed by this as usual.

"Bit more complicated than that kiddo," Seiko said. She lit a cigaret that she had in her mouth. "He basically is you. Well, your Yokai self. You two simply split up."

His angry stare softened a bit.

Split...up? So that was him? At least some part of it? So he would not dare to hurt Momo, right?

"But how?" Aira asked with a whine, not liking how confusing this was. "How can his transformed form split up from him?"

"Ikiryō."

Again everyone was startled. Turbo Granny had appeared behind Seiko's leg, staring at the two Okaruns.

"I told you to get a hold of yourself four-eyes. Tch, what a mess," she groused. "And we haven't even had breakfast yet."

[oflgtfol]

quick like 3 hour thing to sate my desire to see Narinder But As A Bishop. i tried to emulate the game style as much as possible, and i used shamura and heket as the primary references for the robe design

[enjoliquej]

Finished the whole broken little family! I hadn't finalized their designs up until now, but heres Sly's parents Dodger and Jade, eventually I should draw his two other older siblings!

[commsroom]

eiffel's problem is that he sees every injustice as an interpersonal issue. he doesn't understand how his flippancy or apparent leniency towards hilbert might look to hera; in his mind, it doesn't contradict his support for her. to eiffel, it seems obvious - he is also one of hilbert's victims, hera is his friend, of course he's completely on her side - but he fails to fully grasp how the stakes are different for her.

ep 19: "you need to stop treating this like a joke, officer eiffel." / "hey, i'm the person for whom the joke tolls." / "i get you're scared he put something inside you. but i hope you haven't forgotten emergency code alpha victor. he put that in me." and ep 51: "they're just jokes! they don't really mean anything." / "see, eiffel, you get to have that. they can be 'just jokes' for you because you're... well, you. but we don't get that."

the issue in shut up and listen is eiffel's repeated, if unintentional, microaggressions, but it's also his general use of dark humor as a coping mechanism - jokes he feels justified in making because of how the subjects of those jokes have impacted him. eiffel sincerely believes in treating people equally, but his idea of 'equal treatment' can be idealistic and naive. he has an awareness of interpersonal harm, but he's lived most of his life without ever being confronted with the reality of structural harm - being pre-judged and othered and having his life devalued on the basis of outside categorization.

but the thing about that is that it has happened to him, too. eiffel is an addict, and a convict, and marked as from a lower socioeconomic class than minkowski or lovelace, and those things are the reasons goddard futuristics was able to buy him as prison labor and - without his consent - consider him expendable for medical experimentation. none of that is a coincidence, but he doesn't see the systems at work, only his own actions and regrets. which he then equivocates to the worst actions of people who don't share his sense of morality or guilt.

eiffel's ability to recognize and bring out the humanity in the people around him is one of his best qualities, but... on the basis of his identity, he's been able to live a life where he conceptualizes himself as the default person, and that's been reinforced by the pop culture he loves so much. that's a massive blind spot. he assumes everyone navigates the world in a similar way, and so, on some level, he sees everyone around him as an extension of or a reflection of himself. if evil is always personal, then it can always be reasoned with.