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monopsys · 4 years

Text

Truce

Day 4 chases/ mutual pining/ angel & demon

Shizaya

Chases

On Ao3

Summary (Izaya and Shizuo have a truce between them stopping their chases and fights but Shizuo doesn't let his guard down.)

"Do you think this normal?" Shizuo said after a while, smoking his cigarette.

"Why? It isn't?" Izaya asked as he was watching Shizuo.

He was on the upper catwalk of the abandoned building. Shizuo lifted his head and watched Izaya for a while. Izaya continued moving his knife around not giving any attention to Shizuo. Shizuo then left his now smoked cigarette and brought out another one.

"Oh~ Wait... you mean us two doing this?" Izaya smirked at Shizuo teasing him with the sarcastic tone he used.

Shizuo ignored him but showed his frustration at some stones in front of him. Kicking them out of the building.

"Clearly..." Shizuo said clenching his teeth.

"Ah, ne Shizu-chan~ You are right. That's weird. Protozoans have brain cells? What a weird discovery!" Izaya continued with the sarcastic tone.

Shizuo observed him for a while and when he had found what he was looking for, he moved his gaze elsewhere. Towards the building in front of them.

"This would be weird if people saw what we did." Shizuo said.

Izaya moved his gaze down at him and closed his pocket knife, intrigued. He sat on the edge of the catwalk watched Shizuo. Shizuo this time ignored him still watching the building ahead.

"Since when do you care what people say. You are one of the few monsters that do what they want not giving anyone a second glance." Izaya commented as he put both of his hands under his chin smirking at Shizuo.

Shizuo clenched his teeth again but didn't say anything. He continued watching the building and so did Izaya. But after a long period of silence, Shizuo finally said.

"It's nothing..."

But Izaya nodded at himself laughing. "This is something Shizu-chan. Something is bothering you. Or someone's opinion I believe is what eating you up. It is perhaps your brother?"

Izaya's answer was the sound of something breaking up and that was the wall that Shizuo had his hand currently on. Shizuo moved his hand and let the pieces fall down while avoiding Izaya's glance at him.

Izaya smirked at Shizuo knowing that sooner or later, he would burst. So he continued playing with his knife, waiting. Izaya looked once again at the building in front of them. It was currently their mission. Both's mission.

Izaya had found that some people, probably common enemies for both of them, had scheduled to kidnap his sisters as well as Shizuo’s brother. He had found out that even though he could easily enter the building alone, Izaya needed someone to distract them. So the only one who could do that was none other than the other person on this occasion.

Shizuo had chased him as always but after some time trying to talk to him, Shizuo nodded and let Izaya talked to him. Izaya didn't want to be in the same room as his arch-nemesis, yet he had no one else to help him. And he wouldn't let anyone else get injured. He loved his humans and he knew that this operation was not easily won. He needed someone strong.

He could ask Celty sure, but then she would hold that as a favor for something else in the future so he wouldn't risk this. So he simply and for once said the whole truth to Shizuo. Shizuo at first while he chased him, ignored him or better got angrier at him throwing more and more signs at Izaya. Izaya knew that Shizuo’s brother was a touchy matter to him so anything involving him was immediately eliminated.

Yet, Izaya continued getting angrier himself but not showing it. He was not pleased with what he had to do but he needed to do it. Izaya's sisters were his one weakness that no one could touch. So as well, being the good old brother he would protect them. And if he had to sank so low to get help so be it. He needed assistance and he would get it like it or not.

Some meter away, half signs destroyed and half of his new pocket knives missing, finally Shizuo had calmed down. So before he said anything, Izaya just showed his knife at him and put it inside his jacket, moving his hands in front of him. Shizuo watched but didn't move from his spot. Giving Izaya finally the opportunity to talk to him.

He had said the reason why he wanted the fortissimo's help without teasing Shizuo. Shizuo watched, observed him, and after a while, he let down the sign. Shizuo asked his questions and Izaya answered. He asked for a truce. And Shizuo after some time nodded giving him his hand. They both had the same reason, same enemy, same hate. So Izaya caught Shizuo’s hand and they let their disagreements for a while.

Both then tried to find some members and with Shizuo’s insane strength and Izaya's manipulation, they found the building where their enemies were. They had agreed to stop the plans of their new organization and then they would return to their routine.

As much as Izaya's hated the assistance of the monster, Shizuo hated being with Izaya's side. It was weird, unreal. For the great informant to come to him and ask for help was an alternative reality. He watched and waited for Izaya to move, to let him down once more but Izaya was true to his words. They had eventually found their enemy and now waited for the right time for them to enter it and destroy it from the inside.

He would kick and punch anyone who would try to hurt his brother. Or anyone in particular who tried to hurt anyone. Even Izaya's sisters. They deserved better than to live in this world that Izaya had created for them. Still, who was he to say that? To leave with a monster on his roof, destroying anything. He sighed.

Izaya hadn't said anything making Shizuo confused. He hadn't teased, hurt, or betrayed Shizuo in these past days. This was confusing to both of them. Izaya being nice or reasonable and Shizuo not losing his temper with him.

After some time Shizuo finally burst, making Izaya's smirk double its size.

"He asked me..."

Now that is interesting.

"What he asked you?" Izaya said trying to get more information and pass time while they waited.

Shizuo snorted. "Immediately on the information as a true psychopath."

Izaya played with his knife. "The thing you are looking for is informant~" He sang.

Nothing at all! Shizuo turned and looked at Izaya. He didn't tease him at all! That was getting to his nerves.

"Really? Nothing?" He asked making finally Izaya focus on him.

"What?"

"Did you forget who you are?"

"If you mean why I don't insult, the answer is that I am busy trying to save our siblings." Izaya said with a sarcastic tone.

"Still, this side of you flea is weird. I don't like it."

"Neither do I like being in the same room with a low-level IQ but here I am, Shizu-chan~" He held the last words longer and Shizuo nodded smirking.

"Finally a normal reaction."

Izaya finally jumped and landed next to Shizuo who put his hands on his pocket showing that he wasn't affected by the action. Izaya looked at him and smirked, putting also his hands on his jacket's pockets.

"What do you want Shizu-chan? You are being really naughty today~"

"You are being delusional"

Izaya wanted to put his hand on his forehead to calm the upcoming headache but he wouldn’t show what he felt to Shizuo. One is to help each other, other to show weaknesses.

"Shizu-chan, I know that you must have lost some or all of your brain cells but please remember our truce and what we are doing."

"I do remember. Yet your fucking behavior makes me more suspicious towards you."

"Is it really weird to you that we don't fight each other?"

"What is weird to me is that you haven't insulted me or cut me these past days. Sure we are in a truce, yet I would listen some of your lovely words come of that god forgiven mouth."

Izaya watched him as Shizuo finally lightened another cigarette to reduce his frustration from Izaya's behavior. He let out some smoke and continued.

"It is like you are enjoying this."

Izaya smirked and moved towards Shizuo. Close enough to feel each other's breathes.

"And if I am?" Izaya smirked and Shizuo sighed again.

"I would hit you to return to normal."

"And if I don't want to?"

"...what are you getting at?" Shizuo asked as Izaya closed his eyes and smirked again.

"Nowhere. Maybe I enjoy destroying my enemy with silence. It is more effective."

"More effective is also trying to manipulate them while on a truce."

Izaya's eyes showed his frustration and his smirk became smaller as a result. He closed his eyes and barked at Shizuo.

"What the hell you want Shizu-chan?"

"You act weird."

"For once in my lifetime, I want to act as I please. So what's is your problem?

"This?" Shizuo gestured between them.

"Us?" Izaya asked and Shizuo nodded.

"What are we?"

"Enemies?"

"Do we? You act buddy buddy with me."

"The hell Shizu-chan. Do you want a cut? A slap perhaps? Our position here is to do something not to chat like this."

"I am trying to understand your motive."

"Ah~ Do I have one?" Izaya sang at Shizuo who thought about it for a while.

Shizuo was getting on his nerves. Izaya sighed. Just a little longer and he could finally do as he pleased to Shizuo.

"Maybe to create a new image."

Izaya watched Shizuo and waited for him to continued but he didn’t so Izaya asked.

"A new image?"

"Yes. A new image for us."

Izaya wanted to hit Shizuo but calmed himself before he said or did anything careless.

"Maybe that's why he asked me this..." Shizuo continued unaware of Izaya's emotions.

"Did he really?"

Shizuo's eyes shined. "You don't want to know what he asked?"

Shizuo was...tempting him. Did he grow a brain while he was why Izaya?

"Nope~" He sang back at Shizuo and finally moved back and away from him. Giving him space.

"You are planning something."

"Maybe~" Izaya answered trying to ignore Shizuo for the rest of their waiting time but he was persistent.

"I wonder...He asked if we were seeing each other."

Izaya's eyes widened. This was something that called to him yet he wouldn't lose his pride over a fucking monster!

"I said yes."

Izaya turned immediately at Shizuo who smirked at Izaya's movement.

"Bingo." He sang happily and threw his cigarette at the ground.

"I won." Shizuo sang again as he approached Izaya laughing.

He came closer and once again closed the space between them. Close enough from them to feel each other's breath.

"This is new. The informant losing a battle. How petty~" Shizuo continued as he saw that Izaya wasn't talking and glared at him deadly.

"Yet, this sentence has two meanings. What my brother meant was..." Shizuo continued as he saw his watch, noticing that their time to start this operation had come. "...if we are meeting each other."

He lifted Izaya's chin up so he could see into his eyes. "But it also meant..." He then moved his head and kissed Izaya. "...if we are dating."

He smiled at Izaya. "Both are true so...until you prove me otherwise, I invite you to play my game."

Shizuo said and moved away starting their operation leaving Izaya.

Defeated...for once.

Notes: I originally was planning to make Izaya win this fight but I said fuck it and let Shizuo win this one. Shizuo is smart. Not as much as Izaya. Yet if he didn't let his temper win him over and over again he would win Izaya in this kind of fight. Emotional. This time in my fic he didn't let it bother him so of course I would get this situation and used it to my advantage, hahaha.

See you!

#shizaya #shizayaweek2020 #shizuo heiwajima #izaya orihara #durarara #durarara!!#drrr #drrr!!#like this one #monoreadie

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nyeonisparks · 4 years

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Once upon a time, I lived in a shit village, with shitty people, and a vexatious admirer, the end. Welcome to the life of Shizuo Heiwajima. I've lived in this village my whole life. At first it was fine, I was a kid being a kid, but once I got a little older, my entire life changed. You see, I have anger issues, once I get mad it's like an explosion went off, I guess my body doesn't hold back, leading me to have monstrous strength. I've learned to control it better now that I'm older, but the village still hasn't forgiven me for all the damage I did. Living here isn't what it used to be, I'm seen as a monster. People are either terrified of me or despise me and want to start a fight they won't win. Not to mention, there is this girl that follows me around, she's nice and all, but she's the jealous type, she can also get aggressive with others very quickly. I'm desperate to leave this place.

"Hey, Beauty," Tom, my senpai, pats my shoulder.

"Huh?" Tom laughed at my utter confusion.

"That's what everyone is calling you these days," He explained.

"Why?"

"Well, from what I hear, you have two sides to your coin. You're a handsome young man, but a beast at heart. " This is why I admire Tom-san, even with my strength, he isn't scared to tell me the truth, even at times when I don't want to hear it. "Look alive, Shizuo; here she comes," I tense up, seeing my devotee stroll up towards me. Her long blonde hair tied back into a neat braid, big violet eyes gleaming in the bright sunlight, all her attention focused on me. Vorona.

"Hi Shizuo," Her voice rung out; she was beautiful, perfect in every way. But I don't deserve her.

"Hey Vorona," I greeted, then stepped past her, It was best to keep my distance, I intend on leaving tonight.

"Don't mind him, he's usually dense in the mornings," Tom trying to comfort her. Vorona was usually hard to read, she came off as emotionless when we first met, but she ended up warming up to me. I'm thankful to have such good friends, but leaving will be the best for all of us.

"Want to hear about an urban legend I read about?" Tom-san working harder on getting Vorona to open up. " There once was a cruel prince who ruled over this land, his name long forgotten, but his evil ways have lived on, his pleasure was using people as playthings, putting them in dire situations to see their reaction. The people pleaded for freedom from the wretched hands of the prince, but their cries fell on deaf ears. Till one day, a Fae named Celty overheard the people's pleadings. Harkening to the peoples' pleas, she decided to pass judgment on the young prince. Disguising herself as on old women, she begged for food from the prince, the prince laughed, throwing the food to the floor, wanting to watch the beggar eat off the ground. Celty was furious at the prince's ill-manners. She showed him her true form, seeing if the prince would be bewitched and alter his actions.

But at last, the prince laughed harder, he doubled down. His deed caused the Fae to lose all hope for the prince, she resolved to cursing him. Having him and his family die an agonizing death, and upon hearing this, the prince panicked for his sisters, asking the Fae not to harm them. By this sudden show of affection, she altered the curse; he would have to live as a hideous beast, all his servants would transform into appliances, and his sisters plunged into a deep sleep until he became aware of his selfishness. She gave him a rosebud, once the bud blooms and withers away, the cure will become permanent." Tom-san finished his story, looking for Vorona's reaction.

"That couldn't possibly be true," She stated. Tom-san shrugged, not saying another word.

A full moon birthed a sky full of stars that blanketed over the village. My heart was racing, I was finally getting out of here. My bag was packed, strapped to my shoulders, my long journey had begun. I trudged out of the town. Looking back at the only home I knew, the two great friends I made, and the bakery that had the best damn bread. The forest wasn't far from home, once entering, I noticed the dark tree branches, stretching up to touch the sky, cracking the night open, letting the rain pour down covering me. The harsh wind bit at my skin, causing shivers to shake my being. My feet ached from treading on the rough terrain, my legs threatening to buckle. My body leaned up against a rusted gate. A melancholy castle towered over me, fissures lined the walls, vines encased every edge, the castle seemed to be eroding away. Thunder boomed, and lighting clashed, I had to escape the rain. I pried open the fence, heading inside the castle for shelter from the storm. The corridor remained concealed in obscurity, it was eerily silent.

As my eyes adjusted, the darkness began to melt away, drawing my eyes to a large staircase, encrypted with mutilations along the railings. At the head of the staircase was a dark silhouette shrouded in a corrupted atmosphere, holding a candelabra that illuminated the room in an ominous glow. My eyes darted around, now noticing the walls, with the plaster slashed off, barely hanging onto the ruined walls—shattered mirrors and portraits scattered through the corridor. Dust layered the flooring like carpet, the lack of footprints gave away the absence of human contact, but if that were the case, who was at the top of the stairs?

"You shouldn't be here" The voice showered down, drowning me in guilt for invading.

I wanted to mention the fact it was raining. Although my body grew rigid, I couldn't get a word out. "You're trespassing, leave at once," his voice roared.

"I-I'm sorry sir bu-" lighting clashed, illuminating the room in a flash of white. The first thing I noticed was the twisted points glistening atop his head, then those crimson orbs burning with resentment, molting feathers lining his neck and jawline. "Monster..." The word slipped out absentmindedly. Watching him descend the staircase, fear crept through me.

"A monster you say" His voice was low, a smirk masked his face. Before I knew it, he stood in front of me. Somber red eyes seared into me. In a swift movement, his hand was locked onto my throat, claws baring into my skin. "Say it again, I dare you."

This wasn’t my original idea, I was inspired by a post @shizaya-incorrectquotes reposted. I’m pretty sure the creator of this writing prompt was @whowhatmeow

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chouetteffraie · 5 years

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Why do you think skk is so popular 🤔🤔

This is a loaded question, dear nonnie! Coming right out of the gates with a toughie huh?

Soukoku is a behemoth of a ship. Getting initiated into the fandom, it’s probably one of the first ships you’ll see. With soukoku fanart popping up in the bungou stray dogs tag all the time and, out of 13144 bsd fics on ao3, 5655 of them including soukoku, it’d be hard not to see the immense fanbase it has. So, we come to your question nonnie: what makes soukoku so popular?

Please note: this comes from the perspective of a relative nonshipper, and I only speak for my own opinions and observations. I’d love to hear anything you have to add!

under a read more because it got a little wordy!

1. Foe Yay

Foe yay is a term used by TV Tropes to define the shipping of two characters who are enemies, whether it’s because the operate on opposite sides of the law or they just don’t like each other. Overall it boils down to this: the hostile tension between them can be easily read as romantic or even sexual if you choose to read it as such.

Media is up to interpretation, so where one person sees bitter enemies, another sees a viscous round if flirtation. Neither are wrong interpretations, even in regards to the canon legitimacy of a ship- I hold this viewpoint because I believe canon can be anything you want it to be; it’s an open field to sow the seeds for creativity. So, in any situation where they are together, there’s automatically a possibility for that moment to be regarded as a ship.

2. Their history

Let’s be real: people love a story where two characters know each other like the back of their hand. While that may not be the case, it’s a pretty solid fact that of every character in the series (that’s still alive- sorry, oda), Chuuya is the one who knows Dazai best. Everyone in the ADA may (or may not have) heard about his time in the mafia, they may have heard him talk about his darker days, and they can see what he’s capable of, but they weren’t there with him. Chuuya was.

Chuuya is the only one that’s still around who, through being partnered with Dazai in the past, knows that darker side of him the best. Akutagawa, as his subordinate, only knows the version he saw as an underling. Chuuya saw more of the real him as an (almost?) equal. Dazai isn’t very open with his personal details; he never was. But there are certain things Chuuya doesn’t need told like others might because he was there, and that sets the foundation for a nice potential ship.

3. Their partnership

I don’t remember the exact phrasing, but soukoku was and is described as an ultimate powerhouse, an unstoppable duo. In order to be part of a team that rises to such infamy, there has to be a certain bond, one where the members can work together and trust that the half of the job that isn’t theirs will get done efficiently.

Not only do they have that certain bond, one where they can trust the other’s strengths and play off them to emphasize their own, it’s almost like the two characters were made for each other - in a way. In terms of their abilities, Chuuya’s could legitimately kill him when he uses it, and he has no way to stop it. The only way it can be stopped is through Dazai- he’s dependent on Dazai if he wants to perform to the best of his abilities (slight pun intended). Dazai, however, would be incomplete in the team without Chuuya; where he’s tactics and intimidation, Chuuya’s more the powerhouse and action guy he needs. While capable independently, the two are better together. They allow the other to perform just a little better than they would alone.

4. Their trust

Because of this partnership, the two of them trust each other. Chuuya has literally admitted this to Dazai (yeah I see you “I used Corruption because I trusted you” squad) They know what the other is capable of- Chuuya is especially aware of Dazai’s darker habits he tries to hide- and Dazai knows how Chuuya will respond and trusts him to be loyal and dependable as he’s always been.

5. Their current bond

William Shakespeare once said (something along the lines of),

“Love me or hate me, both are in my favor. If you love me, I’ll always be in your heart…If you hate me, I’ll always be in your mind.”

What that means is that any strong emotions, whether positive or negative, towards a person will put them in the forefront of your mind. When you have a crush, you often think about them all the time, are reminded constantly of them, and have strong reactions when they are mentioned. When you hate someone, you tend to think about them all the time, are reminded constantly of them, and have strong reactions when they are mentioned. Thank you copy and paste.

Love and hate have very similar “symptoms,” so it’s easy to see why enemies could be viewed as lovers in denial. Let’s be real, denial is a sexy, sexy concept to play around with in fanfic. Who doesn’t love a good slowburn and some classic mutual pining?

Even now, in the current timeline, Dazai lives to pester Chuuya constantly, who is the perfect target with his temper and confrontational attitude towards Dazai. You know what that is? Chemistry. I’m not talking strictly romantic, either. As two characters, they go well together: they interact and bounce off each other in an entertaining and believable way.

Overall, soukoku is what I see as the most fundamental ship in any fandom. For Durarara, it was shizaya, for Voltron, it was klance- the whole “rivalry” thing seems to attract shippers, and for good reason. Soukoku has a few unique spins to it to help shippers make their point, and I know I’ve missed a lot of them in this quick little ask. Still, I hope this gives you an idea as to why I think it’s so popular!

#asks #soukoku #skk #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd #dazai x chuuya #dazai #chuuya #attempted meta #chuuya nakahara #nakahara chuuya #osamu dazai #dazai osamu #long post #dear nonnie

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museless-fanfiction · 5 years

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A continuation of

https://museless-fanfiction.tumblr.com/post/184402463364/touch-starved-shizuo-is-such-a-slept-on-thing-for

Shizuo had never felt so confused in all his years, though to others it just appeared he was even angrier than usual, and perhaps he was. Fear to him was anger. He hated not understanding things, and one of those things now was himself. How was he supposed to feel? Did he really want that answer? All the playing around Izaya had been doing lately, targeting him more and more often… only now there were no words between them. The thought that Izaya could undo him so easily with something as simple as a touch… Damn him. Not this time, he wouldn’t let Izaya get to him today. He could smell that rat from a mile away.

The day had started, clear, bright, the city was lively. He was off for the day, thankfully. Working would only make this even more complicated. He had to be ready. Izaya could be around any corner, any building. Probably around any sign too since he was such a damn twig. Chocolate eyes scanned everywhere, everyone and everything… Was he hoping Izaya would show up? No, that would be silly. He wanted this to stop. Yes, and he knew what he wanted! Izaya was just playing mind games! Izaya’s cold, tiny hands didn’t belong on him, anywhere. How inappropriate! He’d been fondled in public! Well… it was only ever touches to his face or his own hands.

Slowly he felt something touch his hand, two hands clasping his own. Damnit! Distracted! He glared down at the flea, who was smirking up at him, crimson eyes gleaming. He had both hands gently clasped around Shizuo’s, index fingers running small circles on the back of his palm. “Still can’t fight back, can you? Beginning to think you like me.”

“Like hell I do.” Shizuo hissed out through grit teeth. To Izaya’s shock- a glorious expression to behold, the blonde was able to fight back this time, grabbing onto the cuff of Izaya’s shirt with his free hand and yanking the man up.

“Hey now let’s not do anything hasty- we-we are in public after all-“ Izaya pleaded, eyes wide as he grabbed onto the arm holding him, just trying to keep himself upright. Dammit why was he so short? Shizuo only had to barely lift him to get his feet kicking. After all these years Shizuo finally had him too! Oh shit he had really pushed it this time. He looked into the blonde monster’s eyes, swallowing thickly at just how livid Shizuo looked. Izaya had thought perhaps he would be ecstatic to have finally got him, after so many years of chasing, cat and mouse, framing, injuries, was he not happy? Just angerier? Shizuo moved, and Izaya shut his eyes tight, bracing for whatever he was going to do- he figured his head would be mashed against the sidewalk, to meet the darkness of death in any form really, but instead his feet plopped to the ground.

“Leave, Izaya. Leave Ikebukuro.” Shizuo’s voice so calm and monotone… Izaya was still in shock, slowly opening his eyes.

“That’s it? No beating me up with a stop sign? Hitting me with trash cans cars and vending machines? Just… telling me to leave?” Izaya asked with a scoff, only for Shizuo to turn his back on him. Oh, no, Izaya wouldn’t stand for this at all! No one turned their backs on him, especially not his favorite dumb play thing! “I won’t leave-“ he huffed, running after Shizuo and grabbing the man’s hand again. … perhaps he had gotten too caught up in the game. It had all started as a joke, just touching Shizuo’s face that first time, but the reaction he had gotten was hilarious! Shizuo’s shock to it, he was so touch starved that even Izaya just grazing his cheek had made him melt! … and so it had continued, and perhaps gone too far as Izaya began to realize over time that he was in the same boat, adoring their now daily little “fights” where he’d run up and just do something as simple as holding his hand or cup his face and they’d both stay still for a little while.

So what did he want from Shizuo now? Of course Izaya knew what he wanted, though he’d die before admitting it.

He wouldn’t stand for this, not just because people were staring and it was awkward… but this was Izaya! He couldn’t just… drop all those years of hate because his rival started holding him damn hand! He allowed Izaya to pull him back, trying to avert his eyes as the smaller male pouted, “I believe the joke as run a bit far… “ came the raven’s soft voice, earning an annoyed sigh from Shizuo, “but I plan on playing this all the way till the end anyway.” That damn smirk returned to Izaya’s face. How was he able to overcome all this so quickly?! Or had it been a ploy all along? More mind tricks! He’d fallen for it yet again, unable to push Izaya away, yet… not really wanting to.

Izaya’s hands trailed up- and up he went up on his tiptoes as his hands reached Shizuo’s collar, pulling the man down so Izaya could speak against his ear, “Perhaps we both like this more than we want to admit, Shizu-chan.”

Ruffled and flushed, he was finally pushed away by Izaya, who winked before turning his back to Shizuo, hands tucked into his pocket as he strolled along the sidewalk… and Shizuo didn’t give chase. He could have killed Izaha then and there, several times over. Why? Why didn’t he? He knew why, and it killed him to admit it to himself. He really was a desperate bastard to enjoy having Izaya around, and it only angered him that he knew he was both dreading and looking forward to seeing exactly how far Izaya would push.

#shizaya #shizuo #izaya #fluff #angst #fanfiction #fanfic #oneshot #yaoisoft #yaoi #touch starved

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demytasse · 5 years

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[Shizaya] Coping Mechanism — Ch 7

[Previous Chapters | Ao3] Without so much as a drumroll reveal, Shizuo looked at their shrouded meal with abject horror, as though he already knew the innards of the boxed food. Widened eyes, invisible sweat, he suffered from the bane of a psychic's foresight, somehow incapable of receiving the gift as a surprise. In actuality it was the scent of specific spices that he was experienced enough with to separate the smell from stale apartment air.

“She made curry.”

Experienced, because Shizuo seemed to have trauma attached to the dish, which the sight scrunched Izaya’s nose as he struggled to recall something. A shared memory, or that’s what he felt it might be, one that he should know like a favourite meal — because it was one of his —the meal— and he hadn’t eaten it for quite some time. Izaya struggled to peel the lid off the plasticware, simultaneously struggled to keep his focus on Shizuo’s expression as he did, his hope to gain insight play-by-play. Thoroughly to the end, it was identical horror that remained his reaction even when the prediction was confirmed.

“Well isn't that a treat.” When he peered down at box cradled in his hands he smiled partially. “Namie-san makes delicious traditional brown curry.”

“I know.”

Disgust poisoned his lips.

Oh boy...

“Hm? Why the resentful tone, Shizu-chan?”

“Don't play innocent!”

“I can’t play if it’s not an act. Consider that I don’t always have something up my sleeve.” He showed off a naked wrist, his cuff that was gathered at his elbow.

Shizuo regarded it as evidence that waived off criminal charges, but was disgruntled with the verdict. “Maybe I'm the only one who remembers 'cause I was the one who couldn't live up to your standards.”

Did Shizuo really remember something he didn’t, or was it that he pulled at his strings? Izaya studied the curry from vegetable chunk to protein, the rich cedar to the darkened ring around the edge; individual ingredients each acted a recollection of the last time he indulged — the sprig of garnish that he often discarded was the sinker of what line Shizuo cast to fish for.

“Ahh,” Izaya drew out grimly, “you made me curry once, didn't you?”

—

“Oh Shizu-chan, I think even the roux, rues the day it tasted this curry.” Izaya addressed the toasted flour mixture that separated itself from broth, dripped from the spoon to add gloss back from where it came.

“It's inspired; smokey, but only because it was burned. Spiced, but not well and probably a cover for your flubbed ratio.”

Fingers wrapped around the granite counter, flexed, but considered not to damage the surface as an unconscious favour. “What the hell!? I make you goddamn curry and all you can do is critique it?!” “I thought you’d want constructive feedback.”

“Feedback? That's constructive feedback? Sounds like you're needlessly harsh of my cooking, like you're protective of a lover and their shitty food,” Shizuo muted his tongue, temporarily numbed his ability to use it, “or something.”

Izaya dropped his spoon and fed a cackle to his laugh. “A lover? You think me and Namie-san…?”

“Yeah, okay,” Shizuo raked his bangs back, “maybe… Maybe I'm paranoid.”

“Just because we had a one night stand hardly means I’m primed to cheat, Shizu-chan.”

The glossed stone creaked out in mercy as Shizuo got bested by confirmation bias.“You two slept together?”

“Once.”

“When?”

“Jealous are we?”

“Fucking when!?” He slammed his hands down and rattled tabled utensils and troubled thoughts.

Izaya eased himself back for an escape. “Sometime between you wanting me hospitalised and you personally wanting to bury me six-feet under. No matter; about the time she gave me head, the only one you wanted was mine on a platter.”

“Fuck you.”

“Well, you didn't want to…” he wryly added.

“Why the hell didn't you tell me? Why the hell is she still your secretary?”

“One, it never came up. Two, she most assuredly pictured me as her brother, so what does that tell you? Three,” he added a thumb to his presented peace sign, “you never told me about your fling with that Vorona chick, but I never questioned your faithfulness.”

“...oh…” The evidence recoiled Shizuo, foiled his argument with a bullet of truth; taken to the chest and slumped him further into a leatherback barstool. He put more wear into the kitchen furniture than it would’ve procured in its lifetime.

Izaya held the rack of his trepidatious nerves while he searched for any sign of hostility he should be wary of; all he found was a hint of jealousy that dissolved into regret, swirled around his lip curled strong and circled his heavy eyes.

“So can we move on and go get take out? I'll treat you to whatever your heart desires.” Izaya forced himself to add soft consolation to his demand as he rolled his eyes and rose; he pushed his seat in prematurely, desperate to leave the offensive curry behind.

Shizuo was stone in his slump, “I'm not hungry.”

A click of his tongue and Izaya was already on his way out. “What a bother you can be.”

—

“I wanted to try my luck at the dish you loved so much. Make it just like she made it.”

“Well, I understand that now. Though you did unfairly accuse me. A tad bit overreacted.” Izaya rebutted poignantly.

“Because you were an asshole!”

Izaya flicked the tip of Shizuo’s nose, “because that’s reason to believe I cheated. Besides, was I more of an asshole than normal? You should expect that I’ll act that way.” He never had the blunt force that his partner did — rather his ex, but it snapped Shizuo out of his funk all the same, a chuckle just at the back of his throat.

“We kinda messed that up.”

“Shizu-chan, we messed a lot of things up, not even just this.” A flash of anxiety struck his features. “But that's our thing: we fight, we fuck, we fuck things up.”

“We do.” Shizuo nodded before he shook his head in dismay.

“But you know what's not fucked up?”

“Hm?”

Izaya preceded his response with the taste he tested off his finger, a healthy amount of a congealed glob he swiped from the container.

“This curry.”

“Oh, shut up! How good could a flea's taste buds be?”

A duplicate crinkle adorned their eyes as they loosened up to the idea that the other was their dinner date. They both decided with a silent nod: their food held no significance other than their current satiation. It was anti-climatic and easier than expected, so they grasped at the chance to move on, now with a check that marked off their progress on a laundry list of conflict.

—

Their knees were set two inches apart from being uncomfortable as they leaned into their conversation. Colourful and boisterous, they exchanged nothings and happenstances; expended their backlog of stories they'd kept fresh, in hopes that one day they could share them with the other — with Izaya's beautiful monologues for Shizuo, and Shizuo's stroll through vignettes for Izaya. Light and sweet, it threatened to run their wells dry before they could add more to prevent future boredom.

“...even Tom was pissed.” Shizuo favoured the right side of the ceiling to pluck details from his memory. “He pushed me back an’ yelled right in the bastard’s face.”

“That's cute, Shizu-chan. Oddly a relief,” Izaya held out a spoon before him, full up on rice and less curry.

“A relief, eh?” He edged forward to blow steam off the surface, his hand cupped below the gap of another.

“Seems I don't have to worry about my bodyguard now that he finally has his own bodyguard.”

Shizuo stole his offered bite just to hold the moment that they were connected by proxy; he let the curved metal shape his lips. Perhaps they noticed the slip-up Izaya made of ownership, like it was still his to claim — as if it never wasn't. They acted ignorant of the glitch in his program.

All the while, a particular glisten gathered at the corner of Shizuo's eye; a type of saline Izaya recognised as a product of relieved humour. It was subtle, the difference between what he himself willed back and what the other man let show, but the similarities made it an endearing shared reaction.

Suddenly aware of Shizuo's ridiculous position the two separated — a spoon protracted, the blond fully weighed his chair down, but words continued on after only a short pause.

“As if I needed one,” he smirked.

Izaya hummed for him to reconsider, “debt collecting is a dangerous job, what with those horny idiots who can't keep it in their pants, much more their wallet in their pockets.”

“That's true.”

“I often speak the truth.”

They brushed knees; the minor touch was warmer than what kneecaps should provide, rather it transposed emotion, wafted over their connection like Summer air. There was a spark that hadn’t shocked them months prior, even further days in the past. At their beginning it was frigid, but also a comfort to share their freezer space, with hands occasionally clutched as a sign that they were trying.

Now, though, it was hard to ignore the spill of kinetic energy that tickled their fingertips and resonated up to burn their cheeks.

“...I missed this.”

“What exactly?”

“Us chattin’,” Shizuo shrugged, careful not to wrench them apart, “your wit.”

“Oh~? I distinctly remember you making snide remarks about it on several occasions.” Izaya swallowed his own bite, barely able to breathe before Shizuo suggested his piled up cutlery like a comrade smoker that shared his lighter.

Politely, Izaya shook his head, held up a hand that asked for pause; hesitated when Shizuo pressed a little further — eventually gave in. Especially, he savoured the flavour.

“It wasn't that often.”

“I mean it was weekly, Shizuo. It was several times weekly.”

“Doesn't that mean you used witticisms too much?”

“Woah!” Izaya brightened. “That's my boy, upping his banter game!” He motioned to applaud, but a smashed potato to his mouth beat pride to the punch.

“God, you're an annoying pest.”

Izaya sputtered the spud; it sounded much like an intentional spit take. With the back of his hand he cleaned starchy specks from his mouth, “likewise, kettle-chan.”

Shizuo smudged the final fleck from Izaya's lip with his thumb. “Whatever, pot-kun.”

—

AN: Likes and comments are appreciated. I adore them and they’re always a boost to my mood. If you enjoyed this chapter, reblogs are an immense help as they get more eyes on my work. I say this shamelessly for myself and other fanfic writers — we have a hard time getting noticed and I ain’t too proud to beg for our lot. uwu ♡ ☆ Thank you so much for reading! ☆

[My other works]

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akiameokami · 7 years

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Game of Ships Tag

stole this from @leeisdark

PICK YOUR TOP 10 SHIPS WITHOUT LOOKING AT THE QUESTIONS

Destiel (Supernatural)

Malec (SH)

Jyrus (Andi Mack)

Jarlos (Decendents)

Gallavich (Shameless)

Ryan and Chad (High school musical)

Takano Masamune X Ritsu Onodera (Sekieiichi hatsukoi)

Victuri (Yuri On Ice)

KeiXKuro (Haikyuu!!)

Shizaya (DRRR!!)

DO YOU REMEMBER THE EPISODE/SCENE/CHAPTER/VIDEO THAT YOU FIRST STARTED SHIPPING 6?

HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL 3 DURING THE DANCE OFF! Such gay tension, then they started sharing clothes and it was all angst and ugh...

HAVE YOU EVER READ A FIC ABOUT 2?

Actuallly I haven't. I should do that.

HAS A PICTURE OF 4 EVER BEEN YOUR SCREENSAVER/PROFILE PIC/TUMBLR?

actually no because I don't even think there is a fandom for it. I don't know of anyone else who ships it xd

IF 7 WOULD TO BREAK UP TODAY WHAT WOULD YOUR REACTION BE?

Well considering the way their relationship started and how much Ritsu fights it now, I wouldn't be surprised.

WHY IS 1 SO IMPORTANT?

Dean is important to me in general because of his life story. I personally relate to him on multiple levels. I think their relationship is beautiful because in a world where getting attached to something has always proved the most painful for Dean, he still got attached to Cas. Despite knowing the horrible things that could come, he thought he was worth the pain.

WHICH ONE HAS THE STRONGEST BOND?

Hell I don't know. I'd have to say Gallavich. We are talking about a couple where the one got raped and beat up because of his father for being gay and still chose Ian. He continued to love him through his mental break down. He broke out of prison for him and the only reason he was in prison is because he tried to kill Ian's distant relative/family not friend for ratting Ian out. These guys were ride or die.

HOW MANY TIMES HAVE YOU WATCHED/READ 10’S FANDOM?

Only once have I watched the entire thing through but I have read a ton of fanfic.

IF THE WORLD WAS SUDDENLY THRUST INTO A ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE, WHICH SHIP WOULD SURVIVE, 2 OR 8?

Hmmm Super powerful warlock and shadow hunter VS angsty ice skaters who can't hold their liquor. Malec for sure.

DID 7 HAVE TO HIDE THEIR RELATIONSHIP FOR ANY REASON?

Well they hid it from eachother for as long as possible.

IS 4 STILL TOGETHER?

Uhhhh... they are still friends? They never got together....

IF ALL 10 SHIPS WERE PUT INTO A COUPLE’S HUNGER GAMES WHICH ONE WOULD WIN?

Lets see, Destiel VS Shizaya VS Malec VS Gallavich VS Jarlos..... President snow would die.

HAS ANYBODY TRIED TO SABOTAGE 5’S SHIP?

THE WRITERS OF THE SHOWWWW!!!!

WHICH SHIP WILL YOU DEFEND UNTIL THE DEATH AND BEYOND?

All but 3 and 9. 3 because I think they have enough defenders and 9 because its more of a crack pairing that just warms my soul but is no where near being cannon.

DO YOU SPEND HOURS A DAY GOING THROUGH 3’S TAG?

No way. I support it but I cant see all the fanfic of it. It's weird and wrong to read smut about 13 y/o imo.

IF AN EVIL WITCH DESCENDED FROM THE SKY AND TOLD YOU THAT YOU HAVE TO PICK ONE OF THE 10 SHIPS TO BREAK UP OR ELSE SHE’D BREAK THEM ALL UP FOREVER WHICH SHIP WOULD YOU SINK?

hmmmmmmm again maybe 3 or 9. 3 because do they realllly need to be dating at that age? I say no because life is about to get so much more confusing and worse and a partner only makes it harder. It is fine to know what you like and experiment but you need to think about other things too like education and money. 9 again just isn't that serious, they would continue with their lives like little to nothing happened, occasionally crying themselves to sleep because there was just a void.

Thanks for tagging me!!! @afloppytrashbag

#personal #ask game #couples

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izanyas · 7 years

Text

Not Justice (5)

Chapter 5 of the post-Ketsu Shizaya fic is finally here...! Thank you so much @scarlet-blossoms for the beta.

Rating: M Words: 6,200 Warnings: children in distress, references to child abuse, self-harm

Not Justice Chapter 5

Shizuo's doorbell was ringing.

He couldn't parse how late it was, exactly. He didn't own a watch because they were expensive and too breakable, his TV was playing a movie on mute, and his phone was in the bathroom. It was late enough that the sky outside had been pitch black when he fell to the sleepless grogginess that had plagued him for a week and it was still black now, as he blinked himself out of it. Too late for anyone to come with anything but ill intentions or bad news.

He lifted a weak hand to his head and wiped the stickiness of drying drool off the corner of his lips. His lower back was aching from his position on the couch, back to the cushions but legs thrown to the side and to the floor. His spine cracked ominously when he forced himself upright, and he groaned, tasting sweetness on his tongue as he did so.

Right. He had gone out with Tom to celebrate the other getting his stitches out at last.

The doorbell rang again. "Coming," he rasped, and then made a face. He wasn't tipsy anymore but the room was still a little rocky around him as he walked to the kitchen. He grabbed a bottle of cold water from the fridge to rinse the aftertaste of alcohol from his mouth and splashed some of it over his hands and over his face. The cold felt nice on his skin.

He only had a couple steps to take to get to the door. He pushed the fridge's door close with his foot before taking them and unlocking it, not bothering to check who it was.

He hadn't checked his door like this for a year and a half. There was no reason to anymore.

"Hi," Mairu said before the door was even fully open to her.

Shizuo froze.

Two years ago he would have thought about how he must look to her, hair mussed and face shining from the water, clothes sticking uncomfortably to his skin, and no doubt the smell of liquor clinging to him like a ghost. But Mairu cut his thoughts short before they could wander ahead and into Why territory. She bent over to walk under his arm and into his living-room as if she'd ever been here before—as if she and her sister had addressed a word to him since the day Izaya and himself tried to kill each other last.

The thought of Izaya's name snapped him out of shellshocked silence. "Mairu," he said carefully, voice rough from his half-sleep. "What… Uh. Sorry." He closed the door to give himself a moment away from her. "Do you want… something to drink? I have tea, or—"

"Thanks, Shizuo-san," she cut in. "I'll have tea." Her voice was full of something he couldn't place. It wasn't distaste and it wasn't sorrow, but for some reason he felt it ring through him as familiarly as if he had heard it over and over his entire life.

He shuddered. When he walked back into the kitchen to put some water to boil, he didn't look at her. She took a seat at the tiny table behind him as he prepared everything, her shoe tapping lightly against the foot of her chair but otherwise unnaturally still. Unnaturally quiet.

He placed the pot on the table in front of her alongside a clean mug when the tea was done steeping. He watched her pour it herself—her hands, not her face, just the purple nail polish she wore that had started to flake on her right thumb and index—and then he leaned against the counter opposite her. He didn't feel right sitting down with her.

He had thought they wouldn't talk to him again. Mairu and Kururi both. It hadn't been an obvious thing, they were never close, they had just… drifted away. Smiling briefly in his direction when they crossed paths and then turning away without a word and without time for him to even smile back. Shizuo had resigned himself to this from them, and refused to think too hard on why.

"Where's Kururi?" he asked, trying to soften the tension.

Mairu didn't reply. She put the pot back onto the table and drank straight from the mug without waiting for the tea to cool; Shizuo looked at her face before he could help it, ready to offer cold water in case she burned herself, but she didn't even flinch from the heat. She took a couple long sips without any sign that the tea was anything but lukewarm.

Shizuo exhaled slowly.

"How've you been, Shizuo-san?" she asked all of a sudden. Then, nose slightly twisted: "Besides the hangover."

"Oh." He scratched his chin, cheeks warm. "Uh, I'm good. Sorry about that, I was out drinking with my boss and I kind of just passed out when I got home."

"That's totally understandable," she replied with a nod.

He hesitated for a moment. "Do… you wanna tell me why you're here?"

"Can't I just come see an old friend?"

Shizuo wouldn't call any kid he knew his friend. It didn't matter that he could see how much Mairu had grown since the last time they had talked or that she was closer to eighteen than nine, now. He didn't think he'd ever be able to rid himself of the image of her at that age, with her knees bleeding and her mouth open on constant chatter, Kururi standing in her shadow in utter silence.

"What time is it?" he mumbled, patting his pockets uselessly for the shape of his phone. Mairu replied before he could get the excuse to go fetch it from his bathroom and compose himself on the way. "It's three-fifteen in the morning," she answered, lips caught against the rim of the tea mug. Her fingers were getting red from how tightly she was holding it.

"Okay," Shizuo said in what he hoped was a neutral tone. "So, can I know why you're here at three in the night, looking like your dog just died?"

She let out a high-pitched, nervous laugh, as insincere as it was ugly. "I'm a cat person! How dare you?"

"Mairu—"

Mairu dropped the empty mug on the table loudly and kicked her chair away from the table. It dragged onto the linoleum with a grating sound, and when she stood, it was with both her fists resting on the tabletop.

"Don't you think it's time you grew up, Shizuo-san?" she asked lightly.

Shizuo frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Isn't this the place you first moved in when you left the familial nest?"

"Well, yeah."

And all of a sudden her face twisted itself on disgust, and she gestured wide around her as if to show everything to see at once, looking like her entire body was thrumming on energy, ready to explode. "This is a disgrace," she spat out. "Hardly somewhere a proper adult should live, it looks like a college student's nest."

Shizuo felt irritation flicker inside him like an old lamp. He bit the inside of his cheek to choke it down before he answered: "Maybe so."

Mairu grit her teeth at this, looking disgruntled. She tried again: "Your own younger brother is so far ahead of you in life, don't you feel even the slightest bit ashamed of yourself?"

He did, but it wasn't any of her business; if anything the only reaction her words created in him was surprise that she hadn't mentioned Kasuka sooner.

He had thought Kasuka might be the reason she had come here. It had always been before—Kasuka, or Izaya, but Izaya was out of the question now.

"You're exactly the kind of adult no one my age wants to become," she continued passionately. "A bad job, a bad reputation, a bad, empty home. Do you even contribute anything to society, Shizuo-san?"

She walked around the table to stand right before him, and then she punched him, right into his ribcage. He hardly felt it though the disbelief clouding his mind; for a second Mairu stood as still as he was, shock bleeding into her young face; then he heard the sound of her teeth knocking together and of the rage-filled groan rising out of her, and he didn't move when she struck him again.

And again, and again, and again.

"What the fuck, Mairu?" he said eventually. It took another moment before he realized that though he didn't hurt at all, she might injure herself hitting him like this—he took hold of her wrists to stop her blows, wincing when he noticed that she had cut herself on a button of his shirt. One of her knuckles was bleeding.

"Release me," she ordered through her teeth, breath coming short.

"Not before you tell me what the shit you're doing—" Shizuo saw the way she hunched forward and his body understood before his mind did—he released her wrists before she could try to rip them out of his grip with all the strength of her body and break them while doing it. "Mairu!"

"Don't call me that," she hissed.

It was impossible to mistake what he had felt from her earlier, now. It wasn't distaste and it wasn't sorrow—it was anger, the likes of which he hadn't seen on anyone but her brother. Vicious, inside and out, as if she was poisoning herself on it at the same time. Her face was red, her hair in disarray; now that he was looking he thought she must not have changed out of yesterday's clothes either, and there were dark circles under her red eyes, as if she had cried herself awake, over and over.

"Don't call me that," she repeated, trembling and unaware of his thoughts.

"What should I call you, then?" Shizuo asked evenly.

She sniffed. Her face looked offended at that fact, and she grit her teeth at him again. "Call me Orihara."

He couldn't do that, and she knew it. She knew why. "Please, just—tell me what's wrong."

"No!" she yelled. "Go away! I don't want to see you, or think about you, it was a stupid idea anyway—" she stopped abruptly, and her inhale sounded like a gasp.

"You came here," Shizuo pointed out angrily. "Will you fucking tell me why already?"

"I hate you," she replied, and he felt as if he had been punched this time, more physically than anything her fists had achieved. "K-Kuru-nee said not to, that it wasn't your fault, that he asked for it, but she was being stupid, and now she's—"

He saw her eyes shine with tears before they started rolling down her face, before she heaved in a breath through her nose wetly. His stomach felt hollow with horror and disgust and the first inklings of understanding. If he hadn't had her at the brink of sobs in front of him he would have said Izaya's name, or apologized, maybe—said sorry for something that he didn't know he was sorry for but carried around in his nightmares and in his dreams alike, every day, every night.

But instead, all he asked was: "Where's Kururi?"

Mairu made the most gut-wrenching sound he had ever heard. It was a whine and a sob at once, and it made her sound nine again, made her look as she had when they had met. Bloody knees and a big mouth.

But she had been smiling, then. Not howling in anger and pain in the middle of Shizuo's home.

"She's gone," Mairu sobbed. "I can't find her."

Shizuo reached forward to grab her shoulder with his hand without thinking, but hers flew up even faster to stop it. Her polished nails dug into his palm in warning.

"What do you mean?" he heard himself say.

Her grip on him was shaky. "She's gone," she repeated, voice breaking on the word. "S-Someone took her away, and I can't find her."

"Who—"

"Ask your headless friend," Mairu replied through her tears. She was looking at the ground with wide eyes, as if she wanted nothing more than to be swallowed whole by it. "She was too weak to stop them, and now because of her and you and Iza-nii, she's gone!"

Shizuo's head hurt and his throat ached. More than that, however, it was the nausea creeping up his throat that prevented him from forming any word in answer. When he breathed, he smelled fire.

"Iza-nii's alive," Mairu continued with a hiccup. She dropped Shizuo's hand and wiped her face with her palm, like a child. "And somehow, he got her kidnapped. Isn't that great, Shizuo-san? You're not a murderer after all. You didn't kill him. He's scheming around like the filthy worm he is and he let his own family be harmed again, but at least your hands are clean."

There was no white in her eyes when she looked at him again. Only red from burst blood vessels and black from her pupils. Her irises looked crimson too in the dim light of his home.

He swallowed painfully. His mouth was drier even than it had been when he woke up. "Are you—"

"Yes, I'm sure," she cut in, acidic. "He's alive. And he's going to come back soon."

Shizuo's belly pulsed. His breath felt short, caught in his throat the way it had been almost two years prior when he stood on that rooftop, looking up at the sky and at Izaya's empty eyes.

Mairu smiled at him. It wasn't a happy sort of smile—if anything, it looked like she was trying to hurt him with it, like the edges of it had been sharpened to blade-like. "What are you gonna do about it, then?" she asked. "Will you try to kill him again?"

Shizuo remembered a time when she would eagerly ask him the same. When Kururi would shrug her shoulders at the suggestion of her brother's death. He remembered a time when he thought himself in the same sort of stasis, forever stuck in a loop of aimless violence. No end and no beginning.

He never would have guessed what it felt like to live beyond the end. To have the violence take aim and strike true for once.

Mairu didn't wait for him to reply any longer. "You've become weak too," she commented. Her voice was soft now, her sobs abated. She looked exhausted. "You and the Black Rider and even Iza-nii… this isn't your city anymore. There are better people around to take care of it now. Stronger people. You'd all be better off dead."

Shizuo didn't answer.

For some reason, it made tears gather up in her eyes once more. "Say something!" she ordered. "Grow up! Get over it! Hit me!"

"No," he said. He blinked, willing the buzz out of his head. "I'm not going to hit you."

"You're pathetic, you're so—"

She choked, standing in front of him and trembling through her entire body. The light above his sink was gleaming on her, shining off the wet trails on her face and the sweat along her arms. The blood on her fingers. She fell to her knees without another word, rasping out painful breath after painful breath and sounding like she was about to die. Her cut hand clutched the front of her dress, staining the green fabric an angry red, spilling more blood down her wrist and onto his floor.

"I hate that I need you," she whined. "Celty-san said the thing that took her was stronger and faster than she is, and I can't put Mizuchi-kun in more danger, he's already bringing Iza-nii back, you're the only one who can—"

"Mairu…"

"I don't hate you," she said, rubbing her face harshly. "I'm sorry, I'm a liar. I'm just like him. I never hated you and I'll never hate you, Shizuo-san."

Shizuo kneeled down next to her without knowing what to do. It didn't matter, though; she crawled forward and buried her face in his chest, where she had punched him earlier, and her arms wrapped themselves around his torso, hands linked behind his back.

"Please help me," she wheezed. "Please find her, please." Her words became unintelligible, muffled against him or swallowed by her own sobs, he couldn't tell. When she raised her head again her entire face was crimson, smeared with tears and snot, strands of hair standing electrified above it. "I'm sorry," she repeated, with none of the anger she had displayed earlier, and all of the fear. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

Shizuo could only lift a hand and press it behind her back in a semblance of a hug. "I've been looking for hours," Mairu moaned. He had never heard anything sound as broken as she did then. "Celty-san came to tell me and I ran out and ran everywhere, but I couldn't find her."

It's okay, he almost said, by automatism, the way he would have if he were ten and Kasuka eight. The way he did whenever Kasuka was upset enough that it showed on his face. But Mairu wasn't his sister. She didn't work like he and Kasuka did.

He thought she might care very little for empty reassurances.

"I'll help," he said instead.

He didn't know how he would. He didn't even know if he could. But Mairu's hold tightened all at once, her Thank you dying pressed against his clothes.

Her hair smelled like smoke.

The first thing Aoba did after Mairu called him was text Kuon, What did you do?

Kuon's reply came back just as fast: I'm not responsible for K.'s kidnapping and I don't know who is behind it.

Aoba pressed call before he even finished reading. "It's useless," Kuon snapped without bothering with greetings. "I've been looking for days already, and I have no idea who's responsible for all the disappearances."

"Did you or did you not put her in danger?" Aoba replied.

There was a moment of silence, brief, but enough to spread cold through Aoba's lungs. He felt like he was drowning by the time Kuon took a breath to answer. "No," he said. "Or if I have, then it wasn't on purpose."

"So she was collateral damage, then."

"I'm worried too!" Aoba had seen little enough actual feeling out of Kuon that the volume of his voice cut him short. "I hold no grudge toward her or her sister. I like them. There's nothing to gain for me in putting them in harm's way."

And though he regretted the words before they even came out of his mouth, Aoba said, "But you have a grudge against Orihara Izaya, don't you."

A pause, filled with breathless surprise.

"I've been watching the man for years," Aoba continued, heart beating in his throat. "Long before he died. I know all about the girls he took in."

There was a hissing sound from the other side of the line, barely human, and then Kuon's voice, icy: "If you want to play this game, I think your sibling's worse than mine, Kuronuma-senpai."

Aoba's throat constricted as if a hand was wrapped around his neck, slowly choking him; his ears rang with the notes he had gathered out of the mouth of the Blue Square member he had put in charge of watching over Ran's activities in Awakusu.

His brother had contacted Horoda just a few days ago, after all. Right as Horoda came out of prison.

"Fine," he grit out. "So we all have shitty siblings."

Kuon didn't take the bait about Nozomi, and Aoba tried not to seethe over how easy it seemed for him. Or for Mairu and Kururi, for that matter.

He could never think about Ran without feeling like a sinking stone.

"If anyone put her in danger, then it wasn't me," Kuon continued evenly. "Even if her kidnapping was collateral damage from something on my end, it wouldn't make any sense to take her. You and I would be much more useful targets."

Aoba couldn't help but agree. Yet the Blue Squares had been absolutely unaffected by the ten-odd people who had vanished from all over the city; not one of them even knew the victims personally. No relatives or friends among them. Kururi was the first to mean anything more than that, and it made no sense to kidnap her—Kururi wasn't linked to anything illegal that he knew of. She was just a high school girl. Her last bond to her brother's world had been severed when Orihara died and Yagiri Namie fled the country.

The Black Rider was a possibility, but a thin one. She had been targeted in the past, even in recent memory, and Kururi had not once featured into the trouble she caused around her. Heiwajima Shizuo had pretty much retired from being a menace. Kishitani Shinra was all but a memory as well, though his business was still thriving, and Aoba doubted Kururi or Mairu ever thought about Kishitani much, no matter what he might have meant to their brother in the past.

Aoba bit the nail of his thumb absently. He chewed on the skin around it until sharp pain soared through it, and then he said: "If you and I aren't the targets, and if we're not even involved… then who is?"

"I hate admitting this to you, but I have no idea. IkeNEW hasn't relented any useful information. I know you're keeping an eye on Awakusu-kai, but since you haven't said anything, I'm guessing they aren't responsible either."

"One of their men got taken," Aoba replied. "Former men, I should say. But he's not one of their enemies, and they've been looking for him."

"Who?"

"His name is Kine." Kuon's silence after that made tension knot itself at his shoulders and his face twitch anxiously. "What is it?"

"Kine… this is someone related to Orihara Izaya too, right."

Aoba picked at the stinging skin around his thumb with the nail of his index. "All of Awakusu-kai is linked to Orihara. And Orihara is dead anyway."

Kuon stayed silent.

"Kotonami," Aoba said lowly. "Orihara is dead. He's not linked to any of it. Don't let paranoia fool you."

"I'm wondering if you aren't letting just that happen, Kuronuma-senpai."

Aoba's grip on his phone was forceful, now. "I was there when Heiwajima Shizuo broke him down into pieces. I saw him get stabbed. I looked for him in every hospital, at every doctor's, legal or not—he's dead. There's no way he could've survived those wounds without immediate help, he was fucking bleeding out."

"I need to check something," Kuon interrupted, voice strangled. "I need to ask—"

Either he stopped himself halfway or the call cut entirely; but the silence of the line rang as loudly as a bell in Aoba's ear.

He dropped his hand slowly into his lap. His mother's apartment was dark around him. The screen of his laptop was unlit from not being used in minutes, and barely any streetlight filtered in through the closed blinds of his room's window. He could only hear the faint hum of the ventilation system and the rush of cars from the street underneath, almost like waves at sea.

"Mizuchi Yahiro," he realized out loud.

He had directed Mizuchi to the twins days ago in order to crush the boy's curiosity. To make him understand that Orihara was a thing of the past that he shouldn't poke at, and with the hope that even if he did contact Yagiri Namie, she would be just as unwilling to cooperate as Aoba himself was.

Orihara Izaya was dead.

He had to be.

Aoba found Mikado's name in his contact list without thinking. He pressed the call button despite the late hour, knowing that Mikado hardly slept now because of the pain and the nightmares. And indeed, Mikado picked up after only two long beeps had rung in the silence, his voice devoid of sleep: "Aoba-kun?"

"Hey," Aoba said. "I have bad news."

He heard Mikado shift on his bed and a small, pained groan escape him. "What's wrong?"

You know what's wrong, he thought. If Mizuchi is doing something, you know about it. "Orihara Kururi got kidnapped earlier tonight."

Mikado didn't immediately respond. Aoba heard him move some more, no doubt standing up from the bed and looking out of the window of his new apartment. Mikado always liked to stand by doors and windows in situations like this, as if trying to secure an escape route, be it running away or jumping to his death.

"Are you calling to ask about Mizuchi-kun?" Mikado asked.

Aoba ground his teeth together in rage and threw off his blanket. He sat at the edge of his bed, running trembling fingers through his hair as he spoke: "So you're involved in whatever he's doing."

"I don't know what he's planning. You were the one who told me to keep an eye on him, remember? You're the one who showed me that video of him fighting Heiwajima-san."

"Don't act cute now, senpai," Aoba snapped back.

"You know, you don't have to call me this anymore. We're in the same grade now." He sounded teasing, and a little bashful.

"You did way more than keep an eye on him, though, didn't you?"

Mikado marked a pause before replying. "I just gave him a little push. I think."

Aoba's heart was beating hard against his chest, and the cold was spreading again, all the way to his fingertips. "What did you do?"

There was a sound on the end that he thought was the window's latch being opened; wind brushed against Mikado's receiver and cracked over the line gently. "You might hate me if I tell you."

Aoba didn't think he could ever bring himself to hate Mikado, but Mikado didn't need to know that. "Just… tell me. I don't care what it is." Kururi's face flashed before his eyes, gentle and quiet, and to his horror Aoba felt his throat ache and his eyes burn. He had avoided thinking about her so directly, but he couldn't escape it now. She was gone. "Please."

"I noticed that Mizuchi-kun was emailing someone this morning," Mikado said softly. "I didn't really try to pry, but he had his phone open on the messages, so…"

"Who was he talking to?"

Mikado hesitated. "Izaya-san."

Aoba closed his eyes and pressed against his mouth with his closed fist. He tasted bile at the back of his tongue, felt a corresponding ache in his stomach; he hadn't eaten since lunch, and in that moment, all he felt was giddy, nervous relief. He thought he might have thrown up on the spot if he had.

"Orihara Izaya is dead," he said, for the fourth time that night.

He heard the small, well-meaning hum of pity Mikado let out through the buzz in his ears. "I know you don't want to hear it. But from what I've seen, Mizuchi-kun is trying to get him to come back here. I'm sorry."

Aoba exhaled harshly. "You're sorry," he repeated. "But you encouraged him anyway."

"I did." There wasn't a hint of remorse in his voice. "I like to think that we see eye-to-eye on most things, Aoba-kun, and I'm staying out of your business. I'm not going to get involved anymore. But there are things I want as well."

"The last time you followed your own agenda ended up with you bleeding out of multiple stab wounds for being an idiot."

"I'm aware of that," Mikado replied, annoyed. "Izaya-san was never responsible for what I did, though. And I need him here for other reasons."

Aoba was shaking through his entire body by now. He knew Mikado would hear it on his voice, but he spoke anyway: "Orihara is nothing more than a glorified bully. The city went up in flames for his sick enjoyment, your friends ended up hurt and isolated because of him. He's—" a terrible brother, a terrible person. Someone who could make Heiwajima Shizuo strike with the intent to kill. "He deserves to be dead. Even if not literally, he deserves to stay dead for this city. He deserves to have no one even say his name, ever again."

"I understand how you feel," Mikado said hesitantly. "But I don't think he does."

Aoba cut the call short. His palms were damp with sweat, his nape hot under sticky strands of his hair. If he were to look at himself in a mirror now he knew he would look feverish. When he swallowed it was to push back the bitter of the bile, mouth dry and eyes burning.

He could recall the last time he had seen Orihara Izaya as well as if it had happened only an hour ago. The quality of the memory was photographic, every speck of blood on Orihara's broken body as stark as if sunlight was shining on them, the sound of his bones breaking so clear that Aoba could almost feel it physically. Orihara had already looked more dead than alive by the time Heiwajima Shizuo had dragged himself to his level, cold and quiet and more terrifying than anything Aoba had ever seen—a hundred, a thousand times more terrifying than Mizuchi Yahiro had looked clad in black from head to toe.

Orihara couldn't have meant to survive this fight. He had engaged in it with the kind of bone-deep satisfaction that only the suicidal harbored.

Aoba had no doubt that wherever he was, Orihara hadn't changed. Not in the ways that mattered—not in a way that would make him try to mend his relationship with his sisters, at least.

Not in a way that could make him care that Kururi was gone.

He bit his lips until he tasted blood. And, though it was childish, he wished that Orihara had died with the same taste of metal and salt on his tongue that day. Forgotten in the middle of an unseeing crowd.

Izaya woke up to pitch darkness and confusion. It was too early for even Sozoro to be up; the hotel suite was as silent as a tomb and almost as dark. His bed creaked when he sat up, and the disgruntled noise he let out when pain flared from his lower back and through his legs was lost to the quiet entirely. For a moment he looked around the room without understanding why he had woken up at all. He didn't feel hot, or cold. There was no sweat along his back and no queasiness in his belly to tell him that he had just come out of a nightmare.

He patted the table by his side unseeingly, until his fingers reached the nearest phone he could find. He had to squint to make out the bright numbers on the clock—four in the morning.

Almost as soon as he unlocked the screen, the device vibrated between his fingers, and an email notification lit up to Namie's name.

He looked at it for a second without knowing if he should read it or simply delete it. Namie had only sent him two messages since they had called, both of which had for theme the mysterious new urban legend that Ikebukuro had given birth to, as well as tidbits of information on people he had known back there. He had told himself not to read them each time, and he had read them each time anyway.

He opened the message without much curiosity. Namie was a good secretary but a poor information dealer. She couldn't do much more than compile links to various websites and blogs that he could've found by himself if he cared to look.

He saw the name at the end of her email before he saw its content proper; for a second his heart froze at Mairu and not much more, before he thought to look up and see that Namie hadn't written him. She had forwarded him a message from his sister.

He did get rid of the message right then, mind already turned ahead and to the full deletion of this email address.

Whatever insults Mairu wanted to hurl at him, he didn't want to read them.

You really can't follow the simplest instructions, he sent Namie. I'll be getting rid of this account, so don't bother trying to contact me again.

He didn't let himself think about how much he would regret cutting Namie off, too. She wasn't of any use to him anyway. He was being sentimental, and that had felt nice, thinking that he mattered to her in the space of a phone call. Hearing his own name come out of the mouth of someone who knew him better than most people. He had humored her because he had been weak.

Namie replied almost instantly. Read it, she said, with a copy of the same message from Mairu that he had just deleted.

So he did.

Namie-san, how are you? it started. Actually don't tell me, I don't care. I'm emailing you despite how much I abhor you to ask you to contact my useless brother and inform him that Kuru-nee is as of five hours ago missing. She was kidnapped! I'd find it cooler if it wasn't my precious sister whose whereabouts and status as living or dead or in-between I can't confirm. Apparently the person who took her was stronger than the Headless Rider and faster than her magic bike. No one knows where she is. I talked to every single unsavory person I know, and they're all useless. I thought, how about asking the most unsavory person of all for help? Tell him to hurry up and find her, please. And tell him I hate him, and if he doesn't find her, I'll torture his location out of every person he's ever breathed near to until I find him and succeed where Shizuo-san failed. Maybe I'll even take Shizuo-san with me, to make extra sure that he's dead.

Izaya's thumb hovered over his screen. He couldn't do more than read the message a second time before Namie called.

"Did you read it?" she asked as soon as he picked up. And then, when he didn't reply: "I asked her if she could tell me anything more. Her little friend Kuronuma Aoba apparently estimates that eleven people have gone missing in weird circumstances in the past month."

"People go missing in Tokyo all the time," Izaya said.

"But how many kidnappers can outrun that headless freak?"

None. Or at least no one human. Namie didn't need him to say it, though.

"All the victims are people you know," she added quietly. "I have Kuronuma's list in front of me, along with the dates. They started by taking one-time clients of yours, then regulars, then work acquaintances. And now family."

"You think I'm being targeted?"

"It would make sense. It's not like you didn't leave any grudges behind. I'd be surprised if anyone you know doesn't have a grudge of some sort against you. They must've found out that you're alive somehow."

Izaya dragged his legs over the side of the bed to rest his feet on the floor. He crossed them at the ankle despite the aches working up his spine at the movement. "So I should head back directly into the trap laid out for me, then?"

Namie groaned in frustration. "You coward," she said, disgusted. "You're just going to run away? To ignore your own family? What if they find out where you live anyway, wouldn't it be better to at least know who you're up against?"

I hate him, Mairu had written. She had never been short of expletives to describe how unlikable he was, how little she cared about him. Izaya couldn't remember a time when those words had left her mouth so genuinely, though.

It made his chest constrict as if air was missing.

"If I take care of this," he said quietly. "If I satisfy this lunacy of yours—going back to Ikebukuro, working with you again… will you be satisfied?"

"No," she replied bluntly. "But at least it'll allow me to decide once and for all whether you're worth my time."

"And if I'm not?"

She stayed silent for a moment. "If you're not… then I'll cut you off from my life. I'll let you rot away as you damn well please. Don't you win either way like this?"

Izaya looked up at the ceiling of the room he'd been occupying for a month now. It was as bleak as everything in this city was, as bleak as his entire life had been since the moment he had hung up on Shizuo after saying Goodbye.

"Fine," he said. His heartbeat sped up, strong enough to feel bruising, and the breath he let out when Namie started listing the trains he could take during the day felt as cold as it was liberating.

[PREVIOUS] [NEXT]

#durarara!!#shizaya #heiwajima shizuo #orihara izaya #fic: not justice

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lucifersus · 7 years

Note

Hi! I was wondering, what are your thoughts regarding the Shizaya (April Fools prank) fic written by Narita?

Mmm I’m not going to put too much stock into it since it was meant to be an April Fools’ joke. But then again, Pokemon Go was an April Fools’ joke so who knows? And for Tsukiuta, the April Fools joke this year was an RPG where the mission was to defeat the Demon King Shun because he was heartbroken from King Hajime rejecting his love and his heartbrokeness affected the world. Which is pretty much how it is in canon save the heartbroken part. And they called him a lady in love lol ~ April Fools aside they were basically confirming his (unrequited) passionate love for Hajime is romantic.So I don’t have many thoughts…but it does make Shizaya more canon in a sense. Like yeah it was April Fools but they did have sex in canon material lol lol lol. And the Valentines’ Day special was about Shizuo chasing Izaya on Valentines’ Day…sure, it may be because they’re the most popular, but yeah.

Could Durarara be like Pokemon Go, wanting to test fans’ reactions in an April Fools joke? With Narita’s author note it doesn’t seem so, but he was complaining about having to rewrite the sex scene, not about BL. And he gave an interesting analogy -

The Ouroboros is the spirit of the universe. It is said to stand for thefusion of opposites in this world, of which Shizuo and Izaya were now becomingthe new improved symbol.

It’s Erika’s imagination as it shows at the end of course (but Narita’s writing lol) but I found this interesting because the Ouroboros is a snake or dragon eating its own tail. And Izaya has been compared to a snake by Shiki. And I’ve talked about how he’s the Dragon to Shizuo’s Tiger. And SH says at the beginning -

But even so, we cannot forget.That if the forelegs of the serpent were toevolve into arms, and if it were to have ‘hands’ that were to take hold ofeverything -Sometimes a snake can become a dragon.

And I’ve talked enough about how Izaya became a Dragon to match up to Shizuo, but here’s the part where Shiki said he’s a snake anyway

Without showing any sign of fear under the pressure, Izaya maintained his usual composure as he quipped, “Shouldn’t it be the cat, Shiki-san?”“In the West they say cats have nine lives…but snakes are symbols of rejuvenation and immortality, aren’t they? …Just like you. You keep shedding your old skin and coming back to life no matter how badly you’re beaten up or stabbed with a knife…”- Durarara Volume 9

(Beaten up and stabbed with a knife - Shizuo beat Izaya up and Vorona stabbed him with a knife. Rejuvenation and immortality also represent the Phoenix. Like the Ouroboros, it can also represent life, death, rebirth and the eternal)

Eternal return, re-creation, creation and destruction, wholeness and infinity. The Ouroboros, a snake or dragon devouring its own tail, represents that, ‘of which Shizuo and Izaya were now becoming the new improved symbol’ Comparing Shizuo and Izaya’s…intimate intertwining (or just Shizuo and Izaya together) to the Ouroboros could be implying something…like how their relationship is being recreated now that they’re away from each other, and how it’s infinite, perhaps how they’ll always return to each other in the end, just like a snake or dragon devouring its own tail.

Or maybe, since Izaya has been compared to a snake and could be the (former) Dragon, that he’s being re-created in his time away from Shizuo, but he’ll always return to Shizuo and his unrequited love for him; devouring his own tail. And if Shizuo is going to become the new Dragon, perhaps he too will destroy himself and be re-created as well. And since it’s Shizuo who destroyed himself on purpose when he was young, it’ll continue as he destroys himself repeatedly (devouring his own tail) until Izaya returns.There’s lots of possibilities really. And of course it started off with saying hate and love are two sides of the same coin.

Heiwajima Shizuo and Orihara Izaya.Hatred and love are two sides of the same coin - a wise someone has once said.To take this one step further - love and hate actually merge into each other ona Möbius strip lost in the realm of ambivalence.

- Just like the way their bodies intertwined right now.

‘love and hate actually merge into each other’. Love and hate. Merge into each other. Izaya and Shizuo merge into each other. Izaya’s (unrequited) love and Shizuo’s hate. Since it’s love and hate merging into each other one of them has to be loving the other, right? In other words, Izaya and his love for Shizuo.

(And this is kind of random but I just remembered the red camellia means ‘You’re a flame in my heart’. And if Izaya is going to become the Phoenix perhaps it’s his love for Shizuo which will revive him since the Phoenix is a symbol of rebirth and immortality. It’s the flame of love in his heart which could revive him as the bird of fire, the Phoenix to Shizuo’s Dragon)

But yes Shizuo and Izaya should become ‘the new improved symbol’ of the Ouroboros already.

#ask #shizaya #idk anon #i'm going out on a limb here lol #but i do find the analogy interesting #why the ouroboros of all things #for a 'yaoi' sex scene lol #but another dragon lol #i totally forgot the ouroboros can be a dragon #both the ouroboros and the phoenix represent cycles #of life death rebirth and the eternal #maybe shizuo will be the ouroboros and izaya will be the phoenix #now that he acknowledges his love for shizuo #his love will be eternal #butterfly and camellia

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urfantasies · 7 years

Text

Only Us

The story request for @xhanac

• Ship: Shizaya (Shizuo x Izaya - Durarara) • Setting: zombie apocalypse AU • Genre: horror, distopian • Ending: sad • Prompt: make me cry

~————~

The bright sun, which was shining just a moment ago, was suddenly hidden by the dark, ominous sheet of clouds. It was a normal sight for the two young men trying to survive in the cruel, unforgiving environment the world had become. “So what’s for dinner?”, Shizuo asked as he flopped on the mattress, which was barely holding its shape. “The same thing like every evening - beans.”, Izaya said nonchalantly as he was putting away a machine gun carefully. “Seriously? I’m so done with beans already! Isn’t there anything else?!” “No, Shizu-chan. You should be happy we have anything to eat.” “Listen, flea.”, Shizuo blew up, stood up from the bed and grabbed Izaya by his collar. “What?! What is it Shizu-chan?” “You’re acting weird. You’re way to lifeless.”, Shizuo’s anger subsided and he actually became a little worried about Izaya. “Well… These stupid zombies have almost completely eradicated the thing I loved the most - humans. And, be it my luck, the only other living person in a mile radius I’m stuck with is you - the only human that I absolutely hate. So, yes, I am, in fact, a little angry.” Shizuo let go of Izaya, who wore a stone cold expression. He sighed deeply. “Whatever.”, he said, flopping back onto the bed. Their troubles started 5 years ago. Due to the immense amount of atomic weaponry used in the 3rd World War, a peculiar disease appeared. It was caused by all the radioactive particles in the air. It caused people to become brain-dead, but still alive, and to crave human brains. They were basically turned into your cliché zombies we’ve all seen on TV. Tokyo, being an enormous city, soon and very easily turned into a mecha of brain-eating monsters. Izaya and Shizuo who didn’t have a problem defending themselves from the zombies were probably one of the few who survived and were able to escape the city. They ran away to the countryside where was a much smaller chance they would run into any enemies. Although they joined forces to have a higher chance of survival, they weren’t very famous for their team work, even before the whole mess started. The intense tension between the two young men was making it extremely hard for them to work together or agree on anything. Just the other day they argued on how to kill a zombie the right way after they were attacked by a group of zombies during a raid on a supermarket. The same supermarket where they bought all those beans. There wasn’t a single thing they were able to agree on except one - that they had to survive no matter what. Irritated Izaya stepped out of their little country house. Still standing on the wooden floors, right in the door frame, he slammed his fist into the wooden frame. He then filled his lungs with as much air he could and then screamed at the top of his lungs. “Go~d, why~?!” Shizuo hearing the loud scream ran to the door immediately. “Are you fucking crazy?! Do you wish for all the fucking zombies in the area to come here?”, he complained as he grabbed Izaya’s collar. Only as he violently brought Izaya’s face closer to his did he notice something strange. It was a sight he thought he would never see in his life time. His worst enemy, the guy he loathed with his whole being, the strong, but twisted individual who was the only one who could rival Shizuo’s freakish strength, was crying. A few lonely tears escaped his watery eyes. “What the-”, Shizuo, shocked, let go of Izaya. “What? Never seen a man cry before?”, Izaya said irritated, while wiping his eyes. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Have you finally snapped?” “I just…! I’m done. I have nothing left to live for. (…) Have you ever had something that you loved more than anything, that gave meaning to your life, simply taken away from you in a blink of an eye…Shizu-chan?” Shizuo took a good, long look at the utterly broken Izaya. He knew all too well that Izaya adores human, despite showing it in most messed up ways. And although he disagreed with that insane obsession, he knew that by world being destroyed by the zombie virus, Izaya lost all meaning to his already pathetic, crooked existence. He sighed deeply and spoke as calmly as he possibly could. “Yes. Yes, I did. You know, it’s not just you who lost things in this shitty situation. My brother, Kasuka… Those brainless fuckers got him. I wasn’t able to save him. Tsk! So stop acting so conceited, flea! We have a responsibility to survive for those who weren’t able to, shithead! So get your shit together man!” Izaya looked at Shizuo in shock, wide eyed. After a few moments that took him to gathered his thoughts, his lips finally curled into a mischievous smirk that was so characteristic for him it became his signature sign. “Yeah, you’re right. I guess you aren’t as brainless and useless as I thought.”, he teased his partner as he walked back into the house. “The fuck did you just say?!” “Don’t get so worked up, geez. It was a compliment, idiot.” Seeing Izaya back to his normal self-irritated Shizuo more than anything else. The vain on his forehead popped out and started pulsating like crazy. “Iza~ya~!” And thus continued their life together. Every day was a struggle for survival and their incompability was making it all that harder for them. Even so, despite all of their constant quarrels, they slowly started to work better together. Their cooperation was messy and all over the place, yet, strangely enough, it somehow worked out for them. Naturally, they still had a plethora of mean and sarcastic comments for each other but they stopped taking them seriously. Their arguing stopped ending in them almost finished themselves off but instead in them simply laughing it off. One day, as they were checking out a clothes shop in a small town, they saw a man being chased by a hoard of zombies. They tried to save him but they weren’t able to do so in time. The man was already torn into pieces. However, he did leave behind a beacon of hope. It was a phone, a military kind. Then it suddenly started ringing. Izaya and Shizuo were suspicious since there shouldn’t have been any signal but still answered it. It was a call from a military base stationed in Kyoto. As it turned out, that very military base became the only safe haven for the little members of humanity there were left. Shizuo and Izaya were naturally immediately called in to join the survival group. Of course they agreed immediately. They stocked up on supplies and head towards the jewel of Japan. It was zombie infested just as they anticipated. However, they might have bitten off a little more than they could chew. They were chased into a corner. For a moment there, Shizuo honestly thought that they wouldn’t make it through. Luckily, the back-up from the base came right in the nick of time. “We did it, Izaya! We really fucking did it!”, Shizuo cheered as they safely arrived at the base. After not receiving any kind of reaction in turn, Shizuo turned around with the raised eyebrow. He saw that Izaya was acting strangely. He had his head low, his long black bangs covering his eyes. He was holding his arm which was trembling like sedge in the wind. “Hey, flea! What the hell is wrong with you? Shouldn’t you be happy too?” “Ah~… Yeah, I guess you’re right. (…) Ne, Shizu-chan… I’ll tell you a little secret. For years I thought you are the only human I hated. Now I see that I was just blind for noticing your potential. I might be contradicting myself when I say this but… Even though I hate you, you might be one of the best humans I’ve ever met.” “Right back at you, flea. I guess we just started off on a bad note. But we have a chance to correct that now, right?”, Shizuo gave a little, almost unnoticeable smile. “Yeah, I would have liked that.”, Izaya smirked. “Oy, the hell you saying?” Taking the deep breath, Izaya let go of his trembling arm and pulled up his long sleeve. Shizuo’s eyes went wide in other shock. Izaya’s arm had a clearly visible teeth marks circled by a huge purple greenish skin that indicated the flesh slowly rotting under the influence of the zombie disease. “I’m sorry, Shizu-chan. They got to me. I guess that’s what I deserve. Carma really is a bitch, huh.” Shizuo was left speechless. He just stared into the bite mark that was slowly sucking life out of his partner. “Ne, Shizu-chan… Do me a favor, won’t you? Let me die in piece, before I turn in one of them. Please. I want you to be the one to end me.”, Izaya said calmly as he approached Shizuo. “I… I can’t do that, moron! Do you realize what you’re asking me?!” “You’re really kind, Shizu-chan. But I need to forget your senses right now and turn to your animalistic side. I need you to do this for me. Please.” “No! I… I just can’t! You’re fucking crazy for asking this if me!”, Shizuo continued to oppose. “Then what?! You want me to become of those monsters?! Will you kill me then, idiot?! Huh?! Just kill me now when I still can still think straight and can tell you what I feel!” Looking at Izaya’s angry expression and eyes filled with sorrow and regret, Shizuo’s heart contracted and hurt him deeply. He almost couldn’t believe he wouldn’t be able to see Izaya’s smirking face anymore or argue with him about every little thing. A film of the moments they shared over the years flashed before his eyes. From their first meeting, when Shinra introduced them to each other back in high school, over the many times they destroyed half of Ikebukuro in their childish fights, all the way to them spending every day together, struggling to survive. Izaya was undeniably a huge part of his life, whether he wanted it or not. And now, he wouldn’t be anymore. It hurt Shizuo deeply. “Fine… If it will help you, I’ll do it. But only because it’s you, flea.” “Thank you, Shizu-chan.” The two of them sat down on the floor. Izaya then took a deep breath and thought about his situation. Only after carefully organizing his thoughts did he speak his last words. “Listen to me carefully, Shizuo Heiwajima. Your smarts lack in comparison to your extreme physical strength, but your heart is bigger than the both combined. I want you to treasure these survivals at the best of your abilities. They are the precious humans that are left so I want them to become the foundation for rebuilding the world. Honestly, it might seem impossible at the moment but you are probably the only one who can do it. Because you are different than others. I was never able to figure out you or that ridiculous way of thinking of yours. That was probably why I hated you so much. But I was just mad at myself for letting you beat me. Even so… Thank you. Despite being surrounded with flesh eating monsters, I had fun with you. I think I might even come to actually like you. Who would have thought, huh? So please, do me another favor. Take Ikebukuro back from those monsters. It’s my favorite place in the world. It should be in the hands of my favorite thing in the world - humans.” Shizuo held back the flood of salty tears that were about to come rolling down. He pulled Izaya into a tight hug. “Of course I will. You don’t even need to ask me, idiot. It’s our home after all.” Realizing just what those words meant, since Shizuo (who chased Izaya out of Ikebukuro) was actually accepting Ikebukuro as Izaya’s real home, Izaya chuckled lightly. “I like you too, Izaya Orihara.” Shizuo took out a small revolver out of his pocket. He pointed it to the side of Izaya’s head which he was gently holding. “You better wait for me in heaven, idiot.”, he said quietly as he pulled the trigger. ~10 years later~ After arriving at the base in Kyoto. Shizuo took things into his own hands. Organizing and mobilizing people like a real military and warfare genius, little by little Shizuo exterminated the majority of zombies. That way, Japan became the first zombie-free country and the first step towards recovery. And naturally he took Ikebukuro back. It was one of his first targets. Naturally, people wanted to commemorate the world’s greatest hero and wanted to make him a statue. However, Shizuo refused. Instead, he made Izaya statue and put it in the heart of Ikebukuro. It was a reminder of the man who started it all, without whom the recovery probably wouldn’t be possible. Of the man who loved human more than anything. But still head a favorite one.

~~~THE END~~~

#short story #shizaya #durarara #fanfic #fandom #request #writing

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plume8now · 7 years

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The Last Straw

Fandom: Durarara!

Ship: (Can be seen as) Shizaya

Summary: The town was used to their fights. It happened all the time. And it looked like nothing would change, as Izaya always managed to survive, somehow, to Shizuo’s attacks. And vice-versa, Shizuo always managed to survive Izaya’s sneaky tricks. There was no reason for the situation to lose its balance, right?

Warning: Violence, angst, Izaya being Izaya & Shizuo being Shizuo I guess

Chapter: 1/? (2 or 3 max.)

A/N: I developped this idea with @conspacelien. Oh, and English isn’t my first language; this is why I thank my awesome beta @blueflamebird for their help once again! Also this is my first contribution to the fandom, so hope you’ll like it: a review/reblog/like would be really appreciated!

"I-ZA-YAAAAAAAAAAA!"

And here it goes again.

People started looking out, aware of a possible danger susceptible of striking them all of a sudden. The city of Ikebukuro was used to it, anyway. Everyone knew it - when that name was screamed by that voice - just get ready. Not that the blond barman wanted to hurt anyone - he hated violence -, but when he did throw things - all kind of things, vending machines, posts... damn, even a car once - it was rather violent. And each time he would do insane, inhuman, surreal things in order to attack Izaya, the other would avoid it, just like that, as if he knew him so well he could predict his next move.

That could be a reason for Shizuo's hatred to grow each time they met. The shitty bastard was such a nuisance, he couldn't even crush him. Like a mosquito you've been hunting in one little room for hours, and yet, it kept escaping, somehow, to you. This very simple facts infuriated him to the point he was ready to kill the little fucker.

"You look a bit down today, Shizu-chan~" Izaya teased. "This lamp post didn't even skim me, and I didn't move at all."

Shizuo's face got redder as the dirty flea talked. Izaya's lips sketched a smile at this sight. How come was he enjoying this so much? To see this man, so frustrated, so pissed, this face of his, getting irritated in a fraction of second to the sound of his voice - and being the cause of such a reaction... Oh, that was delightful.

"I'll kill you," he swore. "I'll do it."

"Well not today anyway," he shrugged.

"Dead," the barman spat out.

"Tsk."

The guy used those little knives of his again, which gave him this kind of "bad boy" aura, even though no one needed that to guess so. Just the look on his eyes was more than enough; he was poisonous. He was nasty. He was anything but good omen. Shizuo knew it.

He was like the incarnation of the pollution of this town, and one day, everything would screw up because of him. He'd given him a choice: to leave and never come back, or, to stay, at the risk of being beaten up to death by him.

The bastard chose the option he knew would piss Shizuo off.

And so here it goes. He was looking for it.

"Fighting is no good," Simon said. "Stop it, come to eat Russian sushi instead!" He offered.

Both of them ignored him - and they were already too far anyway.

"Please move aside," a policeman warned to citizens who were walking by. "There's a footage you cannot access to this place."

"Kasuka-senpai!" some girls screamed, out of excitation, before getting interrupted by a loud "BOOM" in the very near street.

"What's going on?" people muttered, frozen. "I saw the mad bartender!" a guy cried. "RUN!" Another yelled.

"Oi, oi," Izaya smirked. "You're scaring people away, Shizu-chan!"

"Shut up!"

The city's Informat easily dodged the giant fridge - where did it come from anyway? - and jumped on terrace on which he could have a better view. But as soon as his feet touched it, his body reacted without consulting his brain and he ended up on the next one. Half a second later, Izaya heard the wall cracking under the impact of a lamp post. The bartender was quick to anger. Well, today more than usual.

"Come back here!" Shizuo screamed.

"Oh, in your dreams, monster," he muttered.

He knew, anyway, that the other would eventually get to him.

Which happened faster than he thought.

Shizuo tried to punch him, but he dodged again, and pointed his pocket knife.

"Shizu-chan wanna play?" he mocked.

The bartender punched the wall to destroy his balance and make him fall, which didn't happen as Izaya already had made his way to the other building. Where the crowd was situated.

"Somebody stop them!" someone cried.

What were they still doing there anyway? Humans had legs, and yet, they didn't use them. How amusing.

"IZAAAAAYA!"

And the blond creep was back. However, as fun as this was, Orihara Izaya had more important things to do right now - such as an appointment with an important leader, as he called himself. He knew perfectly well this town, and therefore could make his way out of here without any problems, if the building actually hadn't started trembling.

He looked down. Shizuo was climbing to him. He sighed.

"Another time, Shizu-chan."

"Leave- this- town...!"

"Damn- you!"

He- he was actually falling! The monster destroyed the whole front! Fuck!

They were supposed to evacuate, but somehow, somewhat, he'd stayed here.

Shizuo's brother.

With this peaceful - or indifferent? - look on his face. He looked up at them - his brother and him - and then-

He didn't lose his knives. He knew way too well how to use them. They were good weapons, after all. He felt a bit of fear invading his body, and reacted in order to save his own skin.

It wasn't a random attack.

He's always hated Shizuo Heiwajima, that wouldn't be a great loss. The guy wasn't even human.

Shizuo dodged the falling parts of the building, already regretting making so much damage to the city he lived in, to those innocent people who didn't deserve it.

He knew he could most certainly survive the daggers the flea threw at him, but scars weren't something pleasant. He dodged them, too.

Everything happened so fast. No one saw it coming.

Shizuo cried. His scream, full of pain and hatred, hit the whole town in its heart.

“KASUKA!”

#shizaya #fanfiction #izuo #drrr #durarara #drrrx2 #shizuo heiwajima #orihara izaya #heiwajima shizuo #izaya orihara #shizuo x izaya #izaya x shizuo #so many tags #anyway #i'm pretty proud #never thought i'd write something on this ship #yay #plume8now

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demytasse · 7 years

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[FanFic: Shizaya] In Lieu of the Planned

Summary: Shinra asks Izaya to help him with his marriage proposal to Celty, but it winds up helping Izaya out more. Pairing: Shizaya, Shincelty AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12722313 Chapters: 1 / 2 (Can be read as a oneshot; adding a short follow up chapter later.)

They sat at an empty dining room table mid-afternoon. Nothing was prepared to set the mood, no details were tended to, and no one of importance was invited to witness. Their surroundings lacked any form of intimacy, but then again the situation didn’t necessarily call for it to be, at least not this time.

An over-practiced performance was repeated with choppy movements of an amateur actor reading from cue cards, his sterile white coat tail billowed out behind him while it caught the draft from an exaggerated bow. Softened eyes peeked above the frame of oversized glasses while he gazed up from a respectful tip of his head. The man was brimming with hope for the answer he desired; after all, the proposal was long overdue. He grabbed the other’s hand from the one that sat before him and delicately lifted it to rest in his palm, hesitating before laying a kiss on its surface. Air was sharply let into his lungs to prepare himself to speak.

"I have loved you ever since I set my eyes on you. Will you do me the honor of marrying me?"

Clicks of fingernails swiftly tapped across a glass surface and spoke in place of a verbal response. The message was short and took only a few seconds before a cellphone screen was revealed with a deliberate shove in the man's face to read.

/No./

Shinra's expression fell flat, "Come on Izaya! Take this seriously!"

Mildly perturbed, the doctor removed himself from the floor and collapsed into a dining room chair that had been left angled outward. His hips slumped dramatically forward an inch away from the edge of the seat. He exhaled his held breath. The informant sat comfortably across from his nerve ridden friend, an easy smile reflected determination to pester him. He idly spun his cellphone between his thumb and forefinger.

"It's difficult for me to put on a convincing act of your headless girlfriend, Shinra."

The aforementioned peeled off the chair’s support to meet Izaya with a rebuttal. "Oh come on. In all the years you have been observing and psychoanalyzing humans, you can't muster up some kind of believable response?"

"Hmm, that's the problem, she's not human. She is unreadable and impossible to predict." His arms extended to either side of his body in a natural shrug.

"As if you don't have any experience with monsters. Going by your normal definition, don't you and Shizuo fall into that category?" Shinra innocently jabbed at Izaya's weakness with a smile.

"That's different. I'm closer to a god than anything, and of course Shizu-chan is a monster," he disconnected his gaze, a wrinkle to his eye accentuated his smile, "but he deviated from being human, as opposed to Celty who strove to act more human. One I can respect over the other, at least in this specific case."

Shinra adjusted his glasses to sit higher on the bridge of his nose. "Oh ok, that makes sense now, thank you for clarifying."

"You are aware that your mocking doesn't have any effect on me, right?"

He hummed, "I'm sure it does on occasion."

The dark haired brunet switched his crossed legs as an indication of back-tracking the conversation. He cleared his throat. “Back on point: you can't just repeat the same declaration of love you've been burdening her with since middle school and proceed directly into asking for her hand in marriage. That's underwhelming, even for you."

"Hm, you think she would turn that down then?" His eyebrows sunk with disappointment.

An illuminated phone screen tilted back up in presentation, "I mean she already did."

Shinra dismissively brushed his hand, "In that case, Casanova, what would you suggest I do?"

"You're actually willing to listen to me instead of us cycling through your multiple failures?"

Shinra nodded with enthusiasm.

Izaya stood, resting his hand on the back of his chair he stretched out his muscles in teasing preparation of his performance. "I suppose it would be easy to assume the role of an obnoxious doctor. I would like to think I understand his character well enough given the time I've had to deal with his selfish shenanigans."

"Of course, of course. And in that case, I'll take on my beautiful angel's persona, waiting to be wooed by the love of her multiple lifetimes.” He clasped his hands together while he batted his eyes. “Oh Shinra~ whisk me away to paradise with your declaration of love!"

"...don't make this more unpleasant than it already is. I don’t think I can wash my hand enough to forget the feeling of your lips on it, thank you." Izaya's eyes turned deadpan in immediate regret. He shook his hand in emphasis.

"Also I’d like to point out how I roleplayed your 'angel' better than you with only one word, where as you had a sentence and already messed it up. Stop talking." He drew a finger across his throat to represent her missing head.

The doctor let his words go mute while attentive doe eyes met Izaya's.

It was off-putting having to pseudo propose to his long-term friend while speaking in a fluid, Shinra-esque, soliloquy. He already committed himself to the task, though, and he didn't wish to disappoint himself by backing down to a challenge.

Izaya knew his natural suggestion would revolve around snarky jokes and bad advice. As amusing the thought of sabotaging the other was, Izaya moved onto a better strategy. He caught a glance at Shinra as he passed time by swaying to either side of his chair impatiently. His mind seemed too lost on the multiple outcomes of his proposal to notice Izaya's uneasy hesitation, which was just as well. The informant only saw Celty as his courier, so writing her a love ballad, let alone seeing Shinra’s replacement reactions to it, made this task unnecessarily complicated. Perhaps it was more fitting to remove the awkward interactions by turning away, closing his eyes, or maybe picturing someone else entirely. The latter seemed most optimal to help stir his creativity.

Imagination helped cater the scene to be more in line with Izaya's interests. Chocolate locks turned golden blond and excited fidgets were canceled out by a lackadaisical recline, a cigarette rested between lazy digits. His sleeves were rolled to the crook of his elbows while an undone bow tie hung around his neck resembling his after work habit of dressing down. A faint scent of tobacco was summoned from his memory that Izaya could swear he could almost breathe in. The vision he created calmed his disjointed thoughts and brought him to a coherent mindset.

There was a loving turn of his lips at the thought of performing for his partner rather than the alternative. Inspired by the illusion of his love accidentally had Izaya dip into the well of his own planned poetry instead of creating a clumsy idea for his friend’s use.

"We were introduced at an influential time of our teenage years. I was instantaneously entranced by your deviance from normalcy that contrasted your beauty against a sea of grey. My immediate attraction killed my ability to see my life with anyone else and your preemptive rejection to my interest failed to sway me. My unconscious made a decision despite my knowledge to sequester myself from intimacy with others to allow for a doubtful potential of us."

A padded shuffle tamped a circle upon previously plush carpet in front of the table he had deserted. Izaya blocked out his vision with closed lids. The imagined living room centered on his ex-bartender whose careless smirk accompanied a drag of smoke from his cigarette. The harsh overhead lighting was softened by a golden gaze that beckoned him to continue.

"I fought the notion of ‘love at first sight’ to stave off the obvious gravity between us. It became foolish to deny that the unique waltz we danced around our feelings was drawing us closer together instead of further apart. Our presentation of love was unconventional, but it spoke of a deeper connection than just simple infatuation."

Concentration drew the blond's attention away from the burning orange stub that now reached his fingers. The sharp alert to his senses had him shake his hand and curse under his breath. Izaya chuckled, remembering the endearing consequence his partner often met when he paid attention to him.

"Our relationship gradually turned away from our repetitious tirade. I began to understand why I created a farce of equilateral love instead of affection for one; I had already given my heart to my enemy and I needed to protect myself from harsh rejection. Even though I resisted at first I realized that you enriched my life in more ways than just a rival that gave me a challenge, but you riled passion in my soul and piqued my heart's interest. You became the peace to my chaos."

His partner's expression was stuck with a generic pleasant smile plastered to his face. Izaya was unsure of the reaction he would receive at this point, but he needed to proceed forward rather than ruminate over frivolous details of a figment's body language. The conflict was hastily settled by the formation of tears that created thin streams down reddened cheeks, despite how cliché it was.

"You're the human anomaly I stumbled upon and the monster I never asked for, but I found the only stalemate I could accept eternally being unresolved.”

"Chase me to the altar, will you, Shizuo?"

Izaya’s fluid pace stopped in front of Shinra; his vision came back to reality and put him in view of the wistful smile his friend gave him from his propped head in hand.

Dark brows furrowed. He assumed Shinra would supply him with a snarky comment about how he didn't know him to be that romantic, or at least gush over how it would work perfectly for his bride to be. His arms crossed in wait of Shinra’s assessment.

"It's amazing how similar both of our obsessions became. I guess we rubbed off on each other."

Shinra's epiphany seemed out of place for Izaya's offered assistance. But when a lanky figure adorned in a two toned uniform stumbled into his peripheral he realized he had slipped the wrong context and name into his monologue. He grimaced; he accidentally proposed to Shinra in place of Shizuo.

Shizuo’s typical bartender's apparel was dressed up with a flustered red accent for the occasion, his shoulders caving in while he uncomfortably stood in front of Izaya. Behind them, Celty slunk out from a wall’s cover; her dark smoke billowed out in dense bashful clouds. It appeared that the serendipitous arrival of the monster duo placed them in the perfect situation for eavesdropping. Shizuo had been shoved into the room at the end against his volition, looking appropriately out of sorts.

The couple tried their best to look at one another without an awkward undertone, which failed each time they adverted bashful eyes from the other.

"Yes." Shizuo looked down to the floor for a fifth time while he rubbed the back of his head.

"’Yes’ to what now?" Izaya raised a brow.

Shizuo responded silently with a raised left hand and pointed to an empty ring finger.

"You can't just spy on my and Shinra's conversation, barge into the room, and answer a question I never asked of you, Shizu-chan.”

Shizuo jolted his attention back to Izaya with a perturbed frown wrinkling his forehead. Off to the sidelines, Shinra mimed a chuckle with a raised hand to his mouth in a learned behavior from the panicked woman whom he wrapped an arm around.

The room filled with loud reverb. "Are you saying all of that was a lie then, Izaya?"

"I didn't say that. I was just here to offer up advice for Shinra and his proposal. Oops," he shrugged at Shinra with a tongue protruding a smile and was met with an exasperated sigh and an accentuated puff of smoke.

Izaya addressed Shizuo again. "Perhaps that was all it was, Shizu-chan."

Shizuo's annoyance turned less hostile, "Oh really?"

"Mmhm."

"You don't want to marry me."

"I also didn't say that."

"Prove it then."

Izaya sighed halfheartedly, "what exactly am I proving?"

"Prove to me that you want to spend the rest of your life with me."

Shizuo rummaged through his upper vest pocket to unearth a petite velvet bag that he emptied into his hand. He eased into a crouch on a single knee, a ring held up high in offer. He was focused, but his hand trembled with unprepared fear.

"I, uh, have had this idea for months now and carried the ring with me looking for the right moment. I guess I should have just planned it."

A flush rose to Izaya's cheeks as his left hand was taken into Shizuo's. He knew what was coming, but his nerves caused his heart to beat heavy as he failed to wait calmly. His unconscious happiness pulled at his lips, but he tried to coolly battle it causing his mouth to hold back a cheesy smile. Just moments earlier he was calm while reciting a proposal and now he was a blubbering mess unable to control his emotions.

"Izaya, you are obnoxious, difficult as hell, and you piss me off more than anyone ever could. But without you I would lose my purpose..." he coughed uncomfortably, "um...you know what the question is."

Izaya's answer should have been on the tip of his tongue, but he was overwhelmed by the notion that they had simultaneously been on the same page without talking to each other about it. He desperately tried to prepare an overly verbose response worthy of his standards and reputation, but only one word seemed fitting.

"Yes."

Shizuo beamed while glancing up to meet his partner's eyes before he focused on slipping the ring on his finger with shaky precision.

"I know it's not much, but I saved up to buy it back in February or something."

"...you started saving for an engagement ring the month we got together."

"Yeah?"

"You're unbelievable. And here I thought I had the idea first. I guess I will have to one up you with your ring--"

Izaya was silenced with a merger of their lips. Light glinted off bright platinum as Izaya guided his palms to rest on Shizuo's dampened cheeks. Tears were wiped away with his thumbs.

Shinra, and a reluctant Celty, offered applause that was indeterminately sardonic.

"Alright, now that you have successfully spoiled my proposal AND stole the spotlight, I'm kicking you out, Izaya."

Roused from their kiss, Izaya turned his head in response with a sly pout; he kept his connection with Shizuo, if not drew him in more. "You want the happy couple to leave before we get to celebrate?"

"Of course not! Shizuo can stay. It’s only you that needs to leave." An extended finger pointed towards the exit as he tilted his head adorned with a smile Izaya could only read as annoyed.

"Ha. I suppose we'll /both/ be taking our leave then." Izaya's arm hooked around Shizuo who struggled to shake off his elated haze from a moment earlier.

"Hmm, that's a shame. I was going to ask my lovely fiancé to cook a fabulous engagement dinner for us." He jubilantly clasped Celty's hand in his.

The dullahan’s shoulders jolted in surprise. She swiftly took up her cellphone, almost dropping it in a flurry of emotions. A desperate dance of fingers tapped across the screen typed a message that only Shinra could see. He responded so quickly that it was debatable if Shinra already knew her message through some form of telepathy he had developed for her.

"Ah!! I was so wrapped up in my disappointment that I almost missed my opportunity to ask!" Shinra whined.

When the doctor proceeded to take a knee, Izaya rolled his eyes and began a trek to the front door with Shizuo in tow who was struggling to watch.

"I have loved you ever since I set my eyes on you. Celty, will you do the honor of marrying me?"

Izaya snorted, "he added her name at least. Shizu-chan, get the door for me on the way out." A dry tone flavored his request.

Shizuo silently nodded as he witnessed his two friends exchange an embrace making him ignorant of Izaya's intent for him to unhinge the door in haste. The informant's played up annoyance was sated by slight splintering of wood in the aftermath.

"Welcome to the joy of being unfairly kicked out by Shinra. Think of the transferred abuse as an early wedding gift for my fiancé." Izaya chuckled to himself. Shizuo leaned in to rest his forehead on his partner's and absorbed the comfort of his arms engulfing him. The newly engaged couple stood in the hallway unaware of anything outside on each other’s presence as their thoughts drifted away from the uncertainty of their future and were replaced with calming reassurance. It was years of pent up exhaustion that had finally unraveled into peace of mind.

"His loss. My gain."

Izaya purred with content, "I'm glad you spied in on my fake proposal today."

"I'm glad you accepted mine."

Izaya sighed at the thought of planning a wedding. "Now we just have to say 'I do'."

"I do."

Izaya shoved Shizuo, "not now, you idiot."

"Fine. How about ‘I will’ then?" he huffed.

Izaya flushed and had to look away, "you're too matter of fact, you lovesick fool. I already know you will."

"And do you?"

"What is this, the actual ceremony? And do you, Izaya, take Shizuo to be your lawfully wedded husband?" He laughed.

"...well? What's your answer, Izaya?"

"I do…"

Shizuo’s broadened his smile more than it should be capable.

"...not need to answer that until we have an ordained minister. I'm guessing the suspense of my answer will kill you, but you need to work on your patience anyway."

Shizuo’s expression flipped to an annoyed frown. “Izaya...you have worked against my patience enough over the years. Humor me for once."

"Perhaps that's only the perception of an impatient person."

Izaya’s cocky retort hung in the air while Shizuo bounced an idea around in his head. Sudden action of the blond took the other off guard as he was whisked off his feet and slung over a shoulder. They ascended down the hallway with brisk pace.

"Hey, hey. You couldn't possibly be taking us to the courthouse just so you can get an answer now?" His pointer finger jabbed at Shizuo’s head multiple times.

"I do not know what you're talking about, flea!"

A sigh that could be read as humored or exasperated left his lips, "well, I suppose 'fiancé' never rolled off the tongue for me. Alas, our picture perfect wedding will never be."

"This… You and me, is perfect enough." The confidently sweet whisper was meant just for them despite it not being necessary in their deserted surroundings.

Izaya didn’t expect an emotional day. He thought he knew what would come of his visit, but was not prepared to deal with this, so he was thankful that he faced away from Shizuo's view of his honest tears that rolled down to meet his easy smile. Shizuo rubbed at his leg in comfort when he heard a few muffled sniffs and a silent hiccup. This was perfect enough for him too.

#Shizaya #izuo #shizuo x izaya #Izaya Orihara #Shizuo Heiwajima #durarara #drrr!!#fanfics #shizaya fanfic #Shinra Kishitani #Celty Sturluson #shincelty #fluff

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