#mbjrweek

[firebirdsdaughter]

DAY FIVE…

… A whole week later. ^^;

And no, no I can’t not be salty.

***

Horobi stared down at the green onions he was cutting, trying to focus on making them as small as possible to avoid drifting off. He supposed it was silly to be having almost more concern about the appearance of Fuwa’s food when Vulcan could no longer see it, but thinking about arranging the plate kept him from drowning in the massive ocean of guilt always churning just below the surface. He should never have asked for Isamu help—hell, he never should have gotten involved with him in the first place. He should have just thrown himself off the first rooftop after Zero-One made the mistake of sparing him. At least now the humans were keeping the rest of MetsubouJinrai and the Soldos away from him so he couldn’t infect them anymore—he’d already caused so much trouble for humanity that it would be dangerous to allow him to interact with other ai; he should be grateful they were even allowing him to look after Vulcan.

“Dream?” Fuwa’s voice interrupted his thoughts, breaking through deep water light the first rays of sun at dawn, “You’re not blaming yourself for everything again are you?”

Horobi dragged himself back to reality, realising he had been completely frozen while he descended into his self-hatred again. Hurriedly setting the knife aside to wipe his hands, he lifted the cutting board and carefully tipped the cut onions onto the tonkatsu plate, taking just a moment to arrange them a bit more. Once he was satisfied, he carefully picked it up and moved into the other room.

As soon as he came close, Fuwa’s hand shoot up, reaching in his general direction, fingers grasping for him. Under the table, Hikaru, his Golden Shepherd guide dog, sat up, thumping his tail and panting happily. Horobi carefully skirted around both of them to set the plate on the table, making sure everything was in order before trying to pull away.

Only for Vulcan’s hand to come down on his arm, gripping with even just a little bit of the strength that he used to rip open Progrise Keys—more than enough to keep Horobi in place. “Wait.” Keeping him anchored, Fuwa’s other hand felt up his arm to his shoulder, carefully feeling the cloth under his fingers. Horobi looked up at his face—for perhaps the first time since the incident, Vulcan’s sweet brown eyes (now permanently bloodshot by the effects of the ZetsumeRise Key) actually appeared to be fixed on him. They were still unfocused, hazy, but were definitely pointed right at him. “Dream…” The grip on his arms tightened, “… What colour are you wearing?”

Horobi froze again, his own eyes widening. He rarely changed clothes—most HumaGear never did, it wasn’t expected, and it made him… Uncomfortable, the way people looked at him when he did. But, sometimes, because Fuwa would go to the trouble of getting him materials, because he usually enjoyed it, so he would make different outfits for himself. This particular one was a deep, vibrant blue shirt, of a particularly soft fabric, with billowing bishop sleeves, buttoned up all the way to high collar, with a pair of black pants of the same cut as his original ones—nothing special or unusual, or enough to warrant the absolutely awestruck expression that was dawning on Fuwa’s face. “… I-”

“No, wait, don’t tell me!” Fuwa’s hand moved off his shoulder, trailing fingers across his collar to press a palm to his chest, “… Blue?”

If he had still been holding the plate, Horobi would have dropped it. His own hands flew up to catch Vulcan’s shoulders tightly, “… My wolf…?”

Fuwa’s hands tightened even more, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, wrinkling the cloth beyond recognition, but neither of them cared, his shoulders heaving, letting out the choked sobs of tears he could no longer shed, “It’s blue?”

Horobi struggled to regain his own composure, mimicking deep breaths—at first he nodded, then remembered that that might be too subtle, and so, “Yes,” He managed, trying not to choke on the words as he raised a hand to comb his fingers through Fuwa’s curls, “Yes, my little wolf, it’s blue.”

***

Based on the implication that Lone Wolf effected Fuwa’s eyesight.

And also Jane Eyre. Credit where it’s due.

#Firebird Writing #suicide mention #Kamen Rider Zero-One #Kamen Rider Zero One #mbjrweek #mbjrweek2022 #Romance #OTP #HoroFuwa #my precious angry wolf dad #my precious evil stoic scorpion dad #I miss them #mah boooooiiiiiiiiiisssssss #TT^TT #they soft #Binary Retro Rider

[windy-tsubasa]

mbjrweek Day8🎉

This year there was a 8th day in mbjrweek 2023, so I drew it according to my complete intuition and preference🫠

#mbjrweek2023 #kamen rider zero one #kamen rider jin #kamen rider #tokusatsu #my fanart #fanart

[jade-lop]

Bad news: I made no progress on MBJRweek.

Good news: I made progress on my original work.

#random musing

[mbjrweek]

#kamen rider #kamen rider zero one #fanart #jin #naki #kamen rider jin #kamen rider naki #mbjrweek2023

[firebirdsdaughter]

DAY FOUR…

… Okay. Three more days. We can do this.

Featuring a special appearance by a very special person.

***

She was practically half his size, hood pulled low over her head, a long white braid sticking out from beneath it, her eyes just barely visible beneath the hem, a deep chocolate brown, glaring with a ferocity he couldn’t recognise. Her clothing had a patched, handmade style that was vaguely familiar, like something on the edge of a dream. He’d been a different person when he’d worn clothes like that, and was now complete disconnect from the person he had been then, if he could even consider himself the same person at all.

But was most astonishing about her was the gun she held—an equally vaguely familiar handgun with an engraving on the side; metsuboujinrai.com in Roman lettering.

Nonsensically, her presence in the alleyway felt like an insurmountable wall. He was supposed to be helping Yotogaki-san meet up with Valkyrie and AIMS to deal with the situation when she had appeared, and any delays would mean more human casualties. But however tiny she was… There was a strange energy about her that made it seem impossible to force his way past. Yotogaki-san was already looking displeased, folding his arms, but the girl was showing absolutely no intention of moving, just glaring at them.

“I’m afraid we don’t have time for this,” The ZAIA director was saying, “If you would be so kind as to move aside.”

“… Kind?” The girl’s voice was soft and equally cold, “As if you would know anything that unless it benefits you.” She folded her own arms in turn. “Don’t try to play the benevolent master with me—I’m not so easy to manipulate.”

Yotogaki-san’s eyes narrowed, “Who are you? What is your intention in stopping us?”

The girl smirked faintly. “Oh? It’s quite simple.” She unfolded her arms, “You are a dangerous remnant of ZAIA,” Reaching into her pocket, she produced a Driver he didn’t recognise, “And therefore, you can’t be left to your own devices.”

The Driver clicked into place on her waist, playing a musical cue he’d also never heard before, followed closely by the pronouncement of FLIGHT DRIVER in a new voice. Immediately afterwards, she produced a Key, coloured deep blue and silver, holding it close for a moment, “Let’s go, aibou.” She pressed the button.

The sound it played matched the Driver, a lyrical, elegant bit of music that reminded him of the sky.

Typhoon Wing!

In an eruption of blue light, a massive bird burst from the Key, swirling up and around her with a cry so loud it seemed to shake the earth.

Storming Osprey!

The girl spread her arms as if ready to take flight herself as the massive osprey booked a u-turn and swooped down to land on her shoulders, folding its wings around her as the music continued.

FLIGHT AUTHORISED! Riding the wings of a tempest great enough to extinguish the infernos of hell!

With a bird of prey’s shriek and an explosion of feathers, the light cleared from their eyes and a winged Rider he didn’t recognise stood before them. The silvers and blues of her suit reminded him a bit of Vulcan, but a bird rather than a wolf. The wings were far larger than his, feathers arcing upward above her like a halo. The sky clouded over suddenly, dropping massive raindrops at first, then hale, then snow, each one reflecting and sparkling in the air as she flapped her wings once, twice, before retracting them back into her suit. She rolled her shoulders, stretching her back and flexing her fingers.

“Well then,” She said, with the same calm distaste as she had used before, “Shall we?” She tilted her head.

‘… Onii-san?”

***

What do when the two guns are the same gun.

#Firebird Writing #mbjrweek #mbjrweek2022 #Kamen Rider Zero-One #Kamen Rider Zero One #I know no one here has met here yet #but trust me she's gonna cut a bitch #yes her Key has a long tagline but listen #both she and her father needed an outlet for their Issues w/ Jin #the dig is necessary #Scorpion Dad is Dealing #kinda #also a great summary of her character #why does she effect the weather? #well why doesn't the satellite in the lake count as a container? #if Takahashi doesn't have to explain shit then neither do I! #Binary Retro Rider

[firebirdsdaughter]

DAY THREE…

… I have a headache that’s verging on migraine, but listen, I finished.

***

Horobi didn’t know why he had entered the hospital in the first place. It wasn’t that the Ark had expressly forbade him to do so, but had made no secret of her disapproval—there was no point, no purpose to his presence. There was no goal, no benefit, especially not considering how much security he had to evade to get in. And yet…

Vulcan looked… Different in the bed, hooked up to all the different machines, then when he was blustering and shouting. For all he had a large personality, it had been obvious how physically small he was the moment Horobi had laid eyes on him. The human was just so… Odd, how so much… Something fit into so small a body. His gaze seemed to find it’s way to Fuwa Isamu whenever possible, scrutinising every aspect of his being—the way his dark eyes lit up from his emotions, the way his mole would disappear whenever he wrinkled his eyes, how he puffed himself up, turned a whole spectrum of colours, the way his curls were permanently messy. Horobi found himself memorising the human without knowing when he had started, sometimes his hand would twitch forward of its own accord, reaching out towards something he didn’t understand. He’d be working on the Ark’s plan, or attending Jin, when the incomprehensible question of what Vulcan’s hair or skin would feel like would appear unbidden in his mind.

And now this—he’d been on the hospital ground before he realised what he was doing. He should have turned back, but there was something about the pull Fuwa Isamu exerted over him that offered no escape. Once he was within range, he had get there. He had to… Had to… Had to see.

Apparently, though, that was all he had to do. Upon arriving in Vulcan’s room all he could do was… Stare. The human was completely helpless, kept unconscious by at least one of the machines he was hooked up to, but… Horobi experienced no inclination to finish what he had started. But… There was another sensation, one fat too complicated for him to parse out. It felt like… A little like the way his body reacted to looking at Jin, both when he was happy and when he was hurt, all mixed together, but… Different. Different how he didn’t know, but… Different. Fuwa Isamu looked so… Soft. Fragile. Inviting.

His hand connected with the human’s hair before he realised he had raised it, fingertips skirting over the curls. Once he’d done it, he couldn’t move away, one hand aimlessly combing through Fuwa Isamu’s hair, brushing away from his forehead. There was no purpose to his actions, it did not benefit the Ark in any way, but…  He could not seem to make himself stop.

Then his knuckles lightly grazed the skin—in the same amount of time it took him to register the usual warmth and softness, thoughts and images flashed through his mind, uncontrolled and unprompted. Though many were clear, the spectrum was so large that he could not even begin to draw a conclusion—things that were beyond any experience he could ever remember happening, to things that were so… Similar to the data of the Ark that he…

He pulled his hand back, pressing it to his side. Where those his own thoughts? He thought so little that it was hard to tell, but… The things he’d seen himself doing… The impulses…

The air in the room changed, growing colder despite the fact that there was no change in temperature and Vulcan’s body temperature remained the same. All of a sudden, he couldn’t stand to be in the place—the pressure, the uncertainty, the chill… It all pushed him away as much as Fuwa Isamu pulled him in. For a moment, the two conflicting forces threatened to pull him apart—until a familiar presence stepped in, quelling all discord.

It was the Ark’s will that pulled him out of the room and back toward Daybreak, the sun peaking over the horizon to reveal just how long he had stood thoughtlessly in Vulcan’s hospital room, staring at him. There would be pain for this, that much he knew—punishment he naturally deserved for leaving his post on such a needless outing—especially since there was still a mysterious, electrifying sensations running through the hand he had touched Vulcan’s hair with, the pictures still etched into his mind, equal parts confusing, destabilising, interesting, and alluring.

It would need to be a long punishment to make him forget this.

***

Bc I’m predictable.

#Firebird Writing #mbjrweek #mbjrweek2022 #Kamen Rider Zero-One #Kamen Rider Zero One #Romance #OTP #HoroFuwa #my precious angry wolf dad #my precious evil stoic scorpion dad #I'mma throw up if I look at this screen any longer #but I DID IT #appreciate my hcs DX #Horobi has no idea what's happening to him but he likes to stare at the handsome human ^^ #Binary Retro Rider

[firebirdsdaughter]

I FINISHED DAY ONE…

… I’m throwing this up here so I can fling myself into bed and I’ll fix up the tags later, but I DID DAY ONE.

Now I just gotta do the rest.

***

“You’re hurt.” Fingers brushed his cheek, followed by another, inhuman touch—one he’d felt before, what felt like years ago. Back then, he had immediately flinched away from the sensation, like an armoured, leathery tail sliding across the scratch on his cheek. But now he even leaned into the sensation. Perhaps the idea of magic in general still made his stomach churn and hairs stand on end, but this wasn’t just any magic—it was Horobi’s, a trail of shimmering purple stretching out from his fingers in the shape of his familiar’s tail. The half Fae, the jewel of Amatsu’s crown. The new dream he’d found where it wasn’t supposed to be. “… That’s better.” Horobi’s hand stayed on his cheek, lingering over the faint scar that remained of his cut. “Healing still isn’t my forte… At least, not physical injuries.”

Fuwa couldn’t resist a chuckle at the incredibly ordinary, self conscious expression on Horobi’s inhumanly beautiful face, usually bearing a look far more arch or mysterious. Reaching up, he caught the long, elegant fingers in his. “It’s fine, it’s just a scratch.” The half Fae gave him a disapproving look, but didn’t argue—not even when Fuwa reached forward to wrap an arm around his waist and pull him closer. “You’re healing is fine, Dream.” Gently pulling Horobi’s hand away from his face to hold it to his chest. The half Fae made to look away, but Vulcan quickly dove forward, drawing him in to a kiss instead, shifting to wrap both arms around him. He kept it up until he felt the half Fae relaxing into his arms, then  pulled away just enough to lean their foreheads together. “Especially since I’m not planning to be poisoned.”

A soft push, but Horobi was strong enough to actually shove him away if he wanted space, so Fuwa just pulled closer. “Don’t tease about that,” The half Fae hissed, “There’s too much of a chance.”

Vulcan sighed, still smiling a bit despite himself, but gave Horobi another kiss on the cheek, “I promise, I’ll be careful.”

Those wide, hypnotic eyes fixed on his face with all the sincerity and concern they could muster, so much it started a ball of warmth in his ribs, “Please. I don’t care what he does to me, but if he hurts you…”

“Dream-”

Fuwa was interrupted by the tower bells, pealing their ominous tune across the castle grounds to herald its master’s return. In a matter of moments, Horobi had slipped out of his arms, already a few paces away, pulling the outer robe of his gown closer around himself. Everything about his bearing had shifted, and his gaze was already fixed in the direction of the gates.

“Wait!” Vulcan called the word as loud as he dared, though all the other attendants were likely busy with the king’s arrival—thankfully, the half Fae stopped, though he didn’t quite turn, “Can we…”

A silence, but by now he knew well how much Horobi liked silence— “… He’s a heavy sleeper after long trips,” The half Fae said softly, “I can be at the tree by the time the moon is highest.”

“I’ll be there.”

Horobi was gone the moment the last syllable left his mouth.

***

I’m going to bed now.

#Firebird Writing #Kamen Rider Zero-One #Kamen Rider Zero One #mbjrweek #mbjrweek2022 #Day One #Romance #OTP #HoroFuwa #AU #my precious angry wolf dad #my precious evil stoic scorpion dad #I'll fix tags later rn I need to go to bed I am dying #I was up until 4am last night like an idiot #Binary Retro Rider

[firebirdsdaughter]

DAY TWO…

… I DID IT!

Now bed.

***

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been able to relax, lay back in the grass, watch clouds passing by. It was a behaviour that was  alien to even the most acceptable HumaGear, and for him it was completely unthinkable—until now. Everything was wet from dew, and he would need to wash these clothes afterwards to get out the grass stains, but he didn’t care—so many of his memories were wrapped up in darkness, blurred to the point he couldn’t tell where his mind ended and the Ark’s began, or even completely unattainable that just being out in the sunlight was… Nice.

He felt her presence more than heard her, a familiar, comforting figure moving closer—she was as much a part of him as his own components, so he didn’t even open his eyes when she sat down beside him on the grass, then lay down, pillowing her head on his chest to watch the sky as well, twirling a flower between her fingers. After a while, she began to hum softly—not any particular tune, but one that resonated with his very core, in synchrony, like everything else they did.

For a while, they just lay there while she hummed their song. “… Aibou.”

He saw the flicker of purple in her hair, felt it as her head turned agains his chest to look up at him. “What is it?”

“Play them again.”

In moments, he felt the link establish and let his eyes drift closed. Memories flashed through his mind that he both knew and did not know—though he knew they were his, secreted and protected deep within the coding of his dearest, closest friend, but he could never summon them to his own mind. Many contained Jin as he had once been—his first steps, first words. At least, the first that she had been there for. Others were just peacefulness, similar to what he was experiencing now. Others were less visual—he felt something when she played them, a sense of purpose, a confidence that he been stripped away from him years ago. A hope. A dream.

In time, however, the remembrances faded, and he was lying in the grass again, with the new and yet comforting weight of her head resting against his chest. He felt her shift against him, and then her fingers, the ones not adorned with claws that mimicked Acid Analyse, were brushing his cheek. “I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

He opened his eyes, hurriedly raising his own hand to his face to find he had begun crying without realising. And yet… It wasn’t exactly unpleasant. “I’m not…” He began, but realised he wasn’t exactly sure what he was. Finally, he settled for “I’m not sad.”

She said nothing, but she didn’t need to. They were so perfectly attuned to each other, neither needed words to understand. She settled back into the same spot, picking up her tune again. Without missing a single beat, they returned to their personal balance.

***

They soft.

#Firebird Writing #Kamen Rider Zero-One #Kamen Rider Zero One #mbjrweek #mbjrweek2022 #my precious evil stoic scorpion dad #and special guest character… #guess who! ^^ #gods I feel like who's that pokemon #Binary Retro Rider

[firebirdsdaughter]

I have decided…

… To not force tired eyes, and just. Catch up on mbjr week tomorrow. I guess.

I feel so bad, I hate not being able to do stuff I wanna do.

#Firebird Randomness #mbjrweek #I just… #can't #concentrate #and I'm so fried #I'm not gonna get enough sleep tonight either #AND I desperately need a shower now #so much for 'not a big deal' #gah I need a counselor #and maybe meds #this is ridiculous

[windy-tsubasa]

mbjrweek2022 Day 7: Free Day

Thanks for a very enjoyable event! I'll be waiting for mbjrweek 2023~

#mbjrweek2022 #tokusatsu #kamen rider zero one #kamen rider #metsuboujinrai.net #fanart #kamen rider jin #kamen rider horobi #kamen rider naki #kamen rider ikazuchi #my fanart

[jade-lop]

Please remind me to find prompts for next year mbjrweek.

#kamen rider #kamen rider zero one #random musing #i'm going to rest for a while

[jade-lop]

I wondered if my sudden rush of writing drive had something to do with MBJRweek.

Would my progress halted again after the week was over?

#random musing

[windy-tsubasa]

Now I'm started preparation for mbjrweek!

@thornstone8773 @fluttering-by

#kamen rider zero one #metsuboujinrai.net #mbjrweek2022