What Exactly Do You Do? (King Ohger Fic)

What Exactly Do You Do? (King Ohger fic)

This piece is a commission done for @muzzleofnemesis

Summary:

Gira isn't exactly "on the level" with what all the president of N'Kosopa does per say, but he trusts his friend's skills and judgements. Yanma on the other hand, well he has a reputation to uphold and if this red clad "little prince" doesn't even understand why, then what's the point? So he takes it upon himself to take a crack at explaining what his skillset is all about. Even if it doesn't actually sink in.

To read on AO3, follow the link below. To read here, continue past the read more!

In these new peace times between the kingdoms of the alliance, Gira was quick to make himself a common visitor among the other’s territories whenever he had any free time from Shuggodam and admittedly sometimes when he didn’t. He couldn't help himself, his travels even just at the beginning had shown him so much more than the commons and the orphanage of Shuggodam ever could. None alone getting to see not only a whole new expanded world before him, but getting to meet all different kinds of people and kingdoms across its expanse. From sweeping country sides and royal palaces, to the frigid cold and mountains, he loved all of it and was always fascinated by every new thing he got to see or learn with all the new people he had met along the way. However, it was the land that confused him most that ended up drawing his attention more often and his company even more so.

N’Kosopa as a place was something he was sure he’d never fully or truly “get”, as though so much of it’s advancements and technology had originally been in service of Shuggodam more than itself until more recent years, Gira hadn’t grown up in the aristocracy or the palace. He hadn’t been privy to the luxuries and conveniences that his kingdom’s power had claimed for them, so aside the few that wormed their way into the general populace market districts or for communication from the upper classes across the kingdom, so much of it was foreign in every definition of the word. He’d find himself startled by holograms lining the sidewalks and buildings, the constant blaring of sounds layering together from all the screens and announcements were often confusing and overwhelming for anyone not wearing headphones to single out the sounds directed to them specifically. The sprawling cityscape of the place that seemed never ending was always set aglow with lights painting the metal buildings in neons and deep blues, an ever present hum that came with electricity seemed to accent the rest of the soundscape of N’Kosopa.

It was hard to adjust to, and Gira doubted he would ever manage it truly, but he was so charmed by its people  and their passion that he would always make the effort to try and to come immerse himself in it regardless. Whether it was to play with the children, exchanging their games on their tablets and mini computers always on hand with the make-believe and performances he brought from Shuggodam, or to be lead around by some of the those that worked more closely with Yanma himself to keep the kingdom’s hundreds if not thousands of programs and systems working. They would, in the same breath of exasperated scolding for not understanding something, go out of their way to either do it for him or explain it in detail. Gira didn't always pick up what they were doing, but he was happy they made the effort all the same. They weren’t his people, but he never felt like he didn't belong around them either. After all, they were the nakama of someone he saw as nakama of his own, so it was all the same at the end of the day right?

Speaking of which, Yanma had been his specific reason for coming this time: the president had wanted to speak of starting to install and bring some of the communication systems from the upper classes of Shuggodam down to the rest of the kingdom. And so, he had been all but summoned to discuss it at his “palace.” They still called it the palace within the kingdom, but for all intensive purposes it was just a huge glorified office building with the “throne room” consisting of a very large area that was brightly lit and held both access to a landing deck of sorts for those coming in via the various hovercrafts and bikes or the other Shugods. God Tonbo had the room if desired to enter the sprawling area, but he seemed content to laze on the building’s outside or to do similar across the kingdom flitting from one place to the next with interest to N’Kosopa’s constant glow. It made Gira wonder if that might be part of the reason it was always like that, a small gesture to its Shugod, and the idea of it made him smile fondly.

Otherwise in the large space, aside some towers for displaying any broadcasts and announcements, it seemed to only comprise of the surprisingly modest desk set-up Yanma took to for his work as President. It was covered in various trinkets and wires spilling over everything across the desk and along the floor, A few bigger hologram monitors set up above the desk and his trademark silver smaller laptop at its center. No matter when or how often Gira visited, there were always littered bottles and food wrappers it seemed strewn about the floor and, once the two had gotten more comfortable, it was also mostly to the floor the two took to when in the “throne room” as well. The chair often left forgotten, they’d often sit or sprawl across the floor around or even outright underneath the desk, whatever odd positions they could find on the floor that seemed to be comfortable enough.

Shiokara always whined and nagged at him when he inevitably found them sprawled on the floor amongst trash, wires, and cd cases that he needed to do better for accommodating guests, especially another King, but Gira would always laugh and smile fondly once more as he watched the president sink into familiar bickering and shouting from his place beside him with his right-hand “tanuki.” To Gira, this was the most comfortable and warm place in all of N’Kosopa because it was Yanma’s personal space and as small as it was, it held so much personality from his dear nakama and it was here they allowed themselves to sink into their own rhythm and comfort with each other. Both full of fluffed up feathers and false pretense, but only shallowly so and they both could easily read the other to see through it anyway. When they were here, it was more out of decorum than trying to convince the other of something. It was silly. It was easy. It was…nice. 

This time, Gira found himself kneeling slightly behind Yanma to look over his shoulder, the other’s laptop set atop the seat of the chair like a table despite the actual desk less than feet away. Yanma was half sprawled on the floor, leaning his arm on a raised knee and the rest  extended out lazily as if to take as much open space as possible. With his propped hand though, he rapidly pulled up various schematics and programs bringing them from his small screen to be flicked up to the holo-monitors above for better viewing.

“Look here alright? So the guy before me here had basically copied our main system for Shuggodam’s palace and the aristocrat bastard’s part of the kingdom, Yeah? It isn’t much different than the older format of what we have set up here except that your royalty demanded it be more centralized so it could only be used by the king. So there’s only one IP since it’s only connected to one host location for the entire network. Everything else you all have is just portable screens that are wired to transmit the same signals and messages out from there, but they can’t be used to send feedback of any kind the other way. 

Because there’s pretty much only one way to send out though, it’ll be stupid easy to just reconfigure it into a proper network across your kingdom if we hook up the towers like we have every…let’s say a couple in every town. We can’t bring it to everyone’s homes at this point, but we can make hubs for each town so-”

Gira leaned forward, his chin all but on Yanma’s shoulder as he tried squinting at the laptop screen as if it would magically click something into place for him. Yanma craned his head to the side so he could side eye the red glad prince, and noticed an obviously confused scrunching of his brow and parting of lips as if Gira wanted to ask a question but didn't understand enough of the situation to actually formulate one. The president clicked his tongue, impatient letting his glance turn into a glare.

“So…you’re not going to hack into it.”

“Haa?? What do you….no, I don't have to do that. Since it only goes one way, it never set up any kind of firewall or even bothered encrypting the code that sends the broadcasts and information out. Not like anyone in your kingdom exactly knows anything about our tech, so he didn't even bother.”

“If you don’t have to hack it though, how are you supposed to set up more of that stuff then?”

“Oi.”

Gira hummed brightly in attention, letting his dark brown meet narrowed deep blue.

“Do you think everything with computers is hacking? Do you even know what hacking really is or did you just decide that’s all I know how to do?”

Gira titled his head to the side, blinking a few times in confusion as he took in the question. “Is it…not?”

Yanma groaned loudly, grabbing his laptop and letting himself flop onto his back next to the red clad man, resettling his laptop on his stomach as he craned his head up a bit to look at the screen. He opened his mouth to speak when he felt something warm and firm fill the space between the back of his head and the floor, and he chanced a glance up to see Gira now much closer and smiling down at him. He had shuffled forward and pressed his calf behind Yanma’s head so he could rest on something instead of holding his own head up it seemed, a gesture that DID NOT make Yanma’s brain stutter for a moment nor his stomach flip in the slightest.

Clicking his tongue again, he tore his gaze back to his laptop and opened a couple half finished programs, adding and altering codes he had picked up and put back down numerous times for something to do with his hands while he spoke more than anything actually necessary. It was scripts for some adjustments to some minor programs that ran some of the smaller machines he used in daily life, nothing too fancy at all but he never seemed to actually dedicate the time to truly being productive with them. With his hands busy though and something to focus on, he let himself fall back to the exasperation at hand with his guest-friend-now pillow.

“Gira, do you have any idea how shit even works-”

“Hey!”

“Shut up, I wasn’t done. Do you have any idea how shit even works here . In N’Kosopa.”

“Ah. Mm…”

“I don’t mean the people, I mean the actual place: the buildings, the vehicles, the computers, the lights, the holograms, all of it. Do you know how that works?”

Gira pouted a bit and shook his head.

“Code. Code that people, usually me, have to write. That code acts as instructions that we then apply to programs that people also have to make, usually me. The code tells the program how to run and what to do and how to interact with things, yeah?” he paused, waiting for a nod before going on. “Okay, so a program can have really simple or complicated instructions, but either way the program actually runs those instructions and usually it is what tells whatever thing it is applied to or in how to do its job to. So an alarm clock yeah? It doesn't know how to work, it's a clock. So we have a program that tells that clock how to work and when to go off. Everything here works off of that logic…basically anyway.”

He heard Gira hum in thought above him and he let out a breath in a bit of relief.

“So then, the network that connects everything together here so we can all talk to each other and makes all our shit works and all that: that’s run by tons and tons of all those programs and things working in tandem all the time. Hacking would be…” He paused for a moment, grumbling a bit to himself as he weighed out the worth of using proper terminology of incorrectly explaining it to get the gist across. The latter won and with a sigh. he picked back up with, “it’s like if someone either broke down and through those programs to change or add stuff of yours or they outright rewrote your programs to do different things than you wanted them to.”

“So…you can just change someone else’s that they made?”

Yanma let himself give a small huff and a smirk as he replied, “If you’re good at it.”

“Oh, so you’re the president because you’re the best at both things?”

“Eh…close enough, yeah. Doesn't matter what it is, I'm always on top so of course I clawed my way up to president. I'm the best at hacking, programming, and anything else I wanna do no problem. Good you finally got that then.” He crossed his arms on his chest, flipping his laptop closed as he moved them and he let himself close his eyes to avoid looking directly into eyes he knew were still staring down at him while still coming off casual.

“Then don’t bother explaining the stuff you’re going to put in Shuggodam, since I'm sure I won't exactly get it but I know it’ll be great if you’re doing it. If you’re on top with everything, then so will what you give us.”

Yanma’s eyes shot open, a light blush dusting his cheeks at the compliment as he now met Gira face to face, Gira’s being a bit too close for his composure at the moment. 

“D-don’t just-, are you a dumbass? I could be doing anything in there and you wouldn't even know it! You shouldn't be so-....” 

Yanma stopped himself, moving to place his laptop off him and to the side before twisting around and up onto his knees suddenly. Gira seemed to have anticipated the move and at the same time had been quick to slide back and get up on his feet again in a partial crouch. They both stared each other down, Gira with a playful grin of challenge and Yanma with growing hot irritation. In an instant, Gira jumped back to avoid Yanma all but pouncing forward to grab at him, and like that, began a chase around the throne room accompanied by angry shouting and loud excited laughter. Yanma’s much more clumsy almost clawing pace behind Gira’s practiced almost dance of a sprint around the room.

“YOU JUST DON'T WANT TO HAVE TO LISTEN TO ME EXPLAIN THIS SHIT TO YOU!”

He was given a delighted laugh and amidst his shouting and their childish game of tag, Yanma found himself enjoying the moment despite himself. Gira could be an idiot about things sometimes, but the guy seemed to just draw you into his pace whether you wanted to or not. And well, Yanma wasn't quite opposed to it.

Lonely Together (Donbrothers fanfic)

Summary:

It was not only death that pushed people to mourn, loss took many forms and the solace people sought to deal with it took equally as many. Sonoi was learning that more and more as he spent time with an unlikely of companions, but maybe not one who was so different.

To read on AO3, follow the link below. To read here, continue past the read more!

“I have always wondered something, Momotani Jirou.”

The gold ranger in question hummed in attention, his mouth too stuffed with a large daikon slice from the bowl of oden in his lap, a matching one in Sonoi’s own. Some time after Jirou settled in with his now only option of residence after everything from the revelations of his home town to Momoi’s departure, he had tried to make his small house(if one was generous enough to call it such a thing) a bit more his own. He had gotten help from Sonoi of all people in adding on a small porch deck to the back of the building, which is where they both found themselves now seated this early evening. 

“The jacket…did it manifest only for the other one?”

Jirou had to hold a hand over his mouth, keeping himself from reflexively spitting anything out as he swallowed hard to instead push down what he had. He reflexively coughed into his fist anyway, Sonoi looking at him in mild concern.

“Y-you…that’s what you’ve held on to all this time?” His words were stilted half through coughing and half through the traces of a laughter rising up past his lips. Sonoi took a small bite out of an egg, politely chewing it slowly before gracing him with a response.

“You didn’t need to be in your combat transformation form to switch between the two of you, and yet your physical attributes and articles of clothing changed. I always wondered about it, though it never exactly seemed something time allowed me to broach given the circumstances before now.”

Jirou hummed, his laughter dying quickly at the implications of such a statement. It was said with casual remark, but he wasn’t blind to how mentions of the past were like walking on glass with the blue clad noto. He was not a volatile man, but he was a deeply sentimental one and be it not Jirou to be the first to upset him especially when they had only now started to allow anything close to companionship to begin. He carefully placed his bowl beside him, using his freed up lap to lean forward with his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hand.

“Well, I made it for him when I made my own clothes before we started out for the city here. He wanted something that was his own since before we tended to dress pretty simply and didn’t really differentiate from each other. We used to switch a lot more often back home, he was more comfortable with the place and people than here and he didn't want any of our friends to question who was with them. We shared that place and those people, even if…well...even if it wasn’t real exactly.

A-anyways though, once we got here he said he wanted to fight on his own sometimes too and so he wanted people to tell us apart, ‘so our enemies know who they’re facing’ or something like that.” 

Jirou smiled fondly, absently running his free hand along the hem of his pants leg. “To be honest with you, I think it’s just because he wanted something that made him look bigger and scarier and that was warm. Plus, our clothes look pretty cool right?”

Jirou let his warm gold eyes flick up to Sonoi’s intense blue and offered a cheeky smile and a chuckle. Sonoi smiled in return though much smaller, offering a vague shrug.

“It’s not to my tastes, however… it is well made.”

Jirou sighed but the smile didn't drop from his expression.

“I’ll take my wins where I can.”

“So because it was his, he…kept it? Does it work like that?”

“Mmmm, I think only for us. Or at least people like us; because we have the powers that come with the don clan and being don brothers, he was able to do it. Otherwise he’d probably just have to carry it around or put it on and off when he was in control normally? He only wore it inside when he was about to switch though.”

“Inside?”

Ah! Umm..so in our…head? Heart? I'm not too sure, but inside us is kind of a place we go to when the other one is using our body. It kinda looked like the old shrine by the school we used to play at as kids, like this small little courtyard surrounded by trees and the rundown shrine. We would wait for each other there or sometimes we could both talk there if whoever was on the outside focused really hard. We didn't…ah...this is weird to explain to someone else.”

Sonoi only offered a genuinely interested and open expression, and not seeing any judgment or disbelief in his face, Jirou hesitantly pushed onwards.

“Well, we didn't always look like…this? When he’s inside and I was talking to him there, he looked like we did as a little kid from when we first met Rumi-chan and Sago and the others. He didn't look like how he looked to you unless he was in control and changed how he looked inside to talk to me or we talked outside sometimes. That was also something we couldn’t do until we left home I think, probably because of our powers manifesting around that time.”

“Is that where he is now? In that place within you both?” 

Jirou shook his head, placing a hand against his heart and then sliding it down towards his diaphragm as he spoke.

“He’s somewhere deeper I think…he’s still in there, and when he wants to he can still speak to me and every once in a while I'm pretty sure he comes out when I'm asleep too, it’s just…we don’t talk very often anymore, not like before. He was always always here before, whether he was talking to me all the time or he was fighting me for control and with us in battle. But now it’s more like…I can feel him, sometimes I can hear something in the back of my mind I'm sure is him, but he won’t respond to me most of the time. We…I have to find my own path, and do things on my own and become my own hero. That’s what he said, and he’s right I'm sure. But it does get a lot lonelier sometimes, with just me all the time. I’ve never…I’ve never been alone before now, so it’s a lot to adjust to…”

He offered a weak chuckle, embarrassed to admit the truth he had been holding onto ever since that day in the woods on his own, having spent weeks of mourning a life he hadn't truly had. He had never hurt like that before in his whole life, he felt sick constantly with how overwhelmed he felt. His whole world had been ripped out from under him, the people he had grown to love and depend on having never been there, the point of his birth having felt like a lie for a much worse purpose. It was too cruel for him to really understand, his heart constantly felt like it was falling apart. He could tell his other self felt similarly, never taking control because within their world he mourned in his own ways and though they had each other in that pain, they had the kindness to not look upon the other’s grief more than necessary. 

When his other half had, in the throes of that, admitted outright his own pain and sadness only to thrust Jirou into focus and to delve somewhere deep within them he couldn't follow, he was confused and hurt beyond belief. He didn't think it was meant as an act of cruelty, it really was Jirou’s own way of pushing the other to overcome an obstacle, but with as much as it gave him the jumpstart and courage to push forward, it hurt to be so alone in such a horrible time. The pain lessened as he tried to lean into his friends he had now, finding friends where he never thought he would too in Sonoi, but…

Jirou startled from his thoughts, not realizing how long it had drawn out since he stopped speaking when he felt a hand tentatively rest between his shoulder blades. Sonoi’s gaze wasn't warm or coddling with sweet words on his lips, nor was it cold and full of judgment. Instead he was simply…there. A true schooled neutrality, but he was there and he was listening and that was as warm as the sun kissing skin with the morning rays to Jirou.

“Someone who completed you, being so close and yet you cannot reach them yourself, I…can understand that emotion. It is a hard burden to bear, being the one left behind…I do not mean to overstep by-”

“Ah, no, no! It’s okay, I… I don't think that’s reaching too much really at all, honestly. I appreciate it…”

They lapsed into a somewhat awkward silence, food forgotten in bowls at their sides for now and simply letting the presence of another person fill up the moment over words. They sat there for a while, the late sun sinking to give way to early evening. The city washed out most the stars from where Jiro’s porch looked out to, but the deeper blues of night overtaking the grayish blue of day was a sight in its own right too. Sonoi let himself get lost in it, doing his best to pick out any exceptionally bright stars fighting their way against the light pollution anyways in the city around them. It was a task that held his attention enough that he didn't at first realize something shift in the frame of the man at his side, his hand still in place on his back.

He didn't properly take notice until he felt Jirou suddenly stiffen sharply under his touch, not quite pulling away but his back almost reflexively arching away from his palm so he pulled it back, quick to glance over in concern. Jiro had not been touch averse by any means as far as he had known him, often with Sonoi being subjected to the other more than vice versa. Then again, that was Don Doragokuu. The man at his side now however, was no longer such person.

Jirou’s eyes were outlined with deep red, silver sharp eyes sliding over to meet Sonoi’s gaze as an involuntary shudder made its way down his back as if shedding something from his skin before he outright shook himself out where he sat. His white coat seemed to drown him a bit when sitting, and the way he reached up to dig nails into his neck as he grabbed at his own throat seemed a bit more painful than usual, like he was unsure how to handle himself and with Jiro no longer keeping his nails so bluntly short, Sonoi briefly wondered if he might actually break skin now.

“You still ask too many questions…Sonoi.”

Sonoi let his lips quirk up in a small smile, tilting his head  a bit at the other man.

“The most persistent of wolves will wear down their prey with time.”

Jirou glared, a loud huff pushing out of him before he let himself glance around them both, taking in their location and then looking himself over.

“Mn…this’ new…” he nose crinkled a bit as he let his gaze slide back over to the noto who had sat patiently for the other to address him further or not. “You…your scent is different now.”

“Pray tell then, what do I smell like, Momotani Jirou?”

Jirou made some kind of rough noise in the back of his throat at the formal address, and he leveled the other man with a strong gaze directly into his eyes. “Sorrow…it clings to you now. Like you don't know what to do with it.”

Sonoi swallowed nervously, unsure how ready he was to have his first real address of this Jirou be about something he wouldn't even voice in full to Sonoza and Sononi, not even to himself most days. So he simply stared back, not backing down, but unwilling to be the one to engage further. Stalling.

Jirou flexed his “claws” as he sat there, not breaking the staring contest between them as he seemed to crack and pop every joint he could move in their seated positions, somehow manifesting a stiffness in their body that he was sure the other Jirou had not felt just minutes earlier. He only gave pause in his focus when he ran the back of his hand across his forehead, and with a grumble he reached up to start preening at his hair, pulling it forward and to the side despite the product that was most certainly holding it in place nowadays. He let a low growl drag past his bared teeth, frustration growing as he was unable to dislodge it in what was apparently a style he was not in favor of.

“Allow me?”

Jirou huffed, but after looking Sonoi up and down in some kind of appraisal, he nodded stiffly. Sonoi chuckled softly and moved to shuffle forward until he slid off the side of the low porch, moving to bend down now on the ground so he was level with the still seated “tiger”. He reached forward and without hesitation as he might have had in the past, he gently began running his fingers through brown locks repeatedly from hairline to the back of the other’s head, trying to coax the spray to crack and free even a bit to free hair from its stiff position. With how it had been combed back before being set, it was likely just the top layer was actually stiff so if he tried to break up the top layer, the rest would be easier to return to a more familiar style.

Jirou, to his credit, didn’t make much noise beyond a soft almost imperceptible sound from deep in his chest, Sonoi struggled to place it quite yet and simply continued his ministrations. Jirou let silver eyes slide closed once Sonoi got into a rhythm, even leaning his head into the touch somewhat whether he realized it or not. Sonoi didn't stop, outright massaging into the other’s scalp now to make sure it was as broken up and would pull on odd stiffened strands as it was styled before he began to do his best to part the other’s hair. If he recalled correctly, this Jirou parted it down the middle and tucked it back a bit in favor of combing it back like the other did so often now or the bangs that threatened to fall into their eyes like a curtain if hair was left to brush forwards.

“You…Jirou trusts you…trusts like the other ones he fights with, not because Taro said he should.”

“Is...that so?”

“Both smell of loneliness...he’s not as lonely with you though. If that’s the case…”

He let himself drop off, exhaling heavily  as he rubbed at his throat once again. He made a face of discomfort, which stilled the fingers in his hair briefly as Sonoi leaned forward a bit on instinct as if to inspect him.

“Jirou?”

“Words are…it’s been too long. Jirou always did the talking for us, but now I don't speak with him or other’s anymore. Easier to feel than speak, can give feelings to Jirou and he can act on them without needing me to tell him what to do.”

Sonoi nodded sympathetically, though honestly the feeling that came to his heart was closer to envy than understanding. Oh, if only it were so easy to have given his heart like that and all its pangs before he even understood it… it wouldn't have changed the end, but maybe the before could have been…

He hadn’t thought about where his hands had stilled exactly against the other’s head, his thumb that sat against the other’s cheek while his long fingers at his temples, poised to have started another run through of his air before being stopped. He didn't think about how close he was placing his fingers into the jaws of a beast without a care until he felt a sharp pain in his thumb, enough to make him reflexively shout but, as he tried to pull away, he felt his hand snag. Jirou has bitten down firm and hard on the thumb of his left hand, his oversharp canines digging in enough to draw blood and he didn’t let go with a nip either.

“Wh-what are you-!”

“Quit wallowing in it.” His tone was hard and scathing, and if he weren't still stuck in this awkward position he would have likely flinched away at the words. But here he was still held, and so he had to take it head on.

“I’ve not been unaware of what happened since Jiro finally became leader like he was supposed to. It wasn’t how I wanted it, but it’s not my choice; it needed to be his. I know what happened to Momoi Taro. I was listening and seeing what Jiro saw, feeling what he felt…I remember the day when all of you were so full of sorrow, that last fight… could choke on it.”

He bit down once more a bit harder than the first time before releasing Sonoi’s digit, he didn't bother wiping at the bit of blood rubbed off onto his upper lip nor did Sonoi bother seeing to his injury, he simply crouched where he had ended up half pulled away before and listened.

“Jirou couldn’t wallow in our sadness forever, ‘couldn’t let him get lost in it and forget why we came here. What we were born to do. So I took some of it and I put it where he couldn't get to it. Still hurts, but…”

“Manageable?”

“Manageable.”

“I…I’m not able to do such a thing. I don’t have another-”

“Excuses. You have the other two, you have Jirou. Yours are outside, but it’s all the same. One person can’t carry it and still move forward, too heavy…you’re choking on it.”

He reached a hand up to his hair, doing a once through of it and he hummed in satisfaction before returning his attention to the noto in front of him. He reached forward in a too-quick grab, nails digging into his forearm with a bit too much pressure, but Sonoi let the other guide his own hand over his chest until his palm was over his heart. He looked down in confusion before looking back up at Jiro.

“You’re alive.”

“I’m-”

“Now prove it.”

Sonoi audibly gasped in surprise, but once again before he could get a word in edgewise, Jirou let go of him and all but pushed him back to the ground before turning his attention to the by-now certainly cold oden. Jirou picked up the bowl and after a few moments of consideration, he sighed heavily before practically shoveling down what was left of the serving. Sonoi blinked at him in bafflement, taking the moment to make his way back to sit on the edge of the porch where he had started the evening off.

Another sigh as he finished. “ Miss this taste… odd that it’s Jirou’s now…” 

The bowl was set to the side and he leaned back on his palm, arms held behind him to catch his weight before he inhaled deeply through his nose. As he exhaled, white silk dissolved away and red stain faded as golden eyes fluttered open and his arms shook a bit as if he had pushed into the position and not braced himself beforehand. He almost fell onto his back if it weren’t for Sonoi reaching forward quickly to place a hand behind his back to catch him. He mumbled his gratitude as Sonoi helped guide him into sitting on his own once more, leaning forward into his own lap a bit with clasped hands against his forehead.

“Are you alright?”

“Mn. Yeah, just a bit of a headache though… did..?”

Sonoi hummed in answer, assuming the question already. “Not for long, but yes. I spoke with the other Momotani Jirou.”

Jirou smiled, some weight seeming to slide off his shoulder it felt as he let himself fall further forward until his head brushed his crossed ankles where he sat.

“He didn’t let me hear all of it this time but…umm…I like when you come to eat dinner with me and watch the sky at my house. It’s nice having someone to share warm food and a pretty sky with again.”

Sonoi let his gaze slide back up to the sky, true night setting in as quickly as always.

“Ah…It is.”

Persistent (Kiramager fanfic)

Summary:

Takemichi isn't the first person Juuru set his eyes on trying to befriend and support out of admiration for their inherent sparkle. This time though, maybe a little outside interference could help smooth it out a little faster for both sides, at least Sayo thinks so.

"Gokaiiiiiiii Silver!"

A little drawing of Gai i included in a fan letter i sent his actor! Im really glad it turned out okay, i hope he likes it even if my kanji was a little illegible at points probably haha.

In The Depths With Me (Shikenger fanfic)

Summary:

The Shinkenger spend one of their days off at a water park, and Ryuunosuke finds some solace and company along the way.

cloudy drought hurricane volcanic eruption rainbow eclipse

Cloudy - What inspired you to start writing your WIP? (or in general)

My current WIP is a commission piece, but honestly it's something i would have written to some degree eventually anyways as it's an idea of characters i like a lot. (keeping it purposely vague until it's done and posted). I love the exploration of characters with skewed forms of love and skewed world views that make getting into the pace of their thought process something new and atypical, and my current muses are exceptionally such types of people.

Drought - What do you do to help with Writer's Block?

I don't get outright writer's block too often so much as just my creative outlet switches, so i suppose i'd get my ideas out in another medium to get that out of my system so i can come back to writing.

Hurricane - Do you often stick to one WIP and finish it, then move on, or do you bounce between WIPs?

I can't work on multiple things at once, full stop no exceptions. I can crank out 10-20k word pieces in a single go like a madman but i can't do multiple projects at once of any medium combination or i wont come back to whatever came first and im not able to redo ideas either i lose steam instantly for it.

Volcanic Eruption - What's your biggest flaw as a writer?

My thoughts tend to go faster than i can write them down, so a lot of the time my biggest writing mistake that comes up is i skip words in sentences entirely and i dont catch it right away. Like i'll just skip half a sentence or entire sentences back to back and 2 will get spliced together.

Rainbow - What do you think makes your story unique / stand out?

Mmm, that's a tough one. I'd suppose dialogue? I take a lot of pride in capturing the speech patterns of my muses and kinda base my writings on my confidence in doing so over how much i want to do an idea; dialogue to me makes or breaks a story since it's how the character express themselves. You can have amazing prose and descriptions but if the characters cant reflect the information and personalities you have informed me of on their own, i feel nothing.

Eclipse - What's the most common / reoccurring theme of your WIP(s)?

It's a genre in the fanfic space outright, but hurt/comfort i think still answers this best i think. I love writing scenes of comfort or finding solace in loss, it's admittedly really cathartic and tends to be for characters that never got that in their main sources or not in a way i feel was enough. I want them to hurt but not for the sake of suffering, but for the sake of leaning into those who love them and being able to go forward with those people.

I will say, though it crops up less in my overall works list, i love writing and exploring people's relationships with grief and death as concepts in unorthodox ways and i want to do so more. I did a few pieces in february for the trigun week that did so and i loved doing it so ive been trying to make more pieces since that do so as well like Wilted Flowers !

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