#can you imagine Izaya with that strength? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lavenderboneswrites · 3 years ago

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Pirate Shizaya headcannons. I preferably love the idea of Izaya being a coordinator that Shizuo has practically kidnapped because Shizuo held the damn map upside down and is know lost(he is the captain) also I love everything u do

Aaah okay I had to think long and hard about this because really I have TOO many ideas. I’ll preface this with saying that the Golden Age of Piracy actually coincides with the Edo period of Japan where the country was ruled by the Shogunate and was generally closed to outside politics, influences, etc. So with these two periods overlapping there is so much room to play with. I for one am losing my mind about samurai pirates.

Orihara Izaya, Captain of the Dragon Zombie Pirates.

Alright alright. So I think Izaya was probably born in a noble and well respected samurai family of Japan. However this boy craved adventure and to the see the world and to meet all that it had to offer. Not a fan of Japan’s anti-foreign involvement (open the country, stop having it be closed), he led a group of revolutionaries out of Japan to the seas.

During this time I can definitely see Izaya finding his way onto a pirate ship and manipulating everyone in sight until there’s a mutiny and he becomes the new captain, because of course that’s what our boy would do.

However despite this, and after proving his worth, his intelligence, his skill, I think his crew would be fiercely loyal to him. I can see him keeping a few of his original Japanese crew around too. I think Mikado would be his right hand man, Mikage and Ran his enforcers, Shinra the ships doctor, and his childhood friend who followed him out to see in search of ‘true love’. Simon I can see maybe as the quartermaster, I think he’d be good at rallying the crew. Overall I think there would be a mismatch of people from all over the world, because Izaya loves picking up strays.

Izaya is a cunning and intelligent captain. He uses wit and no small degree of charm to achieve his goals. He's fascinated by the occult, especially myths and legends. I feel like he'd love to hunt for the fountain of youth and see the kraken with his own eyes. He dreams of bigger prizes than just the usual gold.

Izaya is showy af and definitely has all the flashy pirate coats, not mention a penchant for ridiculous hats (Captain Barbossa’s hat anyone? And all the tricorns). I think he’d be an adequate warrior, trained with a samurai sword, but his weapons of choice are two daggers and close range where he can use speed, agility, and intelligence to outwit his opponents. (I imagine he fights like Anne Bonney, who I love, from Black Sails). I also kind of think he’d be a pirate like Calico Jack Rackham (also from Black Sails, look I love BS there’s gonna be a lot of BS references). Also our boy is talented as parkour and can parkour around a ship like a motherfucker (thank you Black Flag).

Heiwajima Shizuo, Monster of Caribbean, Captain of the Beast Pirates*.

Shizuo is a powerhouse in the pirate world. Where Izaya is all brains and cunning, Shizuo is brute strength. I actually like to head canon that his violent ways got him cast into indentured servitude and he was sold off across the seas and ended up in the Caribbean. Due to his strength he made a good labourer for the British but also fuck the redcoats. I think Shizuo would have led a revolt against the slavers and started his own pirate crew after that. He would’ve given his fellow slaves the option to go where they want or join his crew and a few probably did.

Tom’s of course his right hand man, they are brother’s in arms and have fought many battles together. I think Vorona would be a good enforcer and I definitely want Kadota to be his quartermaster (with the rest of the van gang on the crew as well - those four are a fierce raiding party). Though Shizuo is 100% hopeless at navigating so he's gonna need a good one on board.

Shizuo is definitely a brawler with his insane strength, and the thought of his weapon of choice being this fuck off massive Warhammer is just too good to pass up. I want Shizuo bare chested with high-waisted pants, pirate boots, half shaved head, long blonde hair in braids basically just looking like an absolute barbarian beefcake. ALL THE TATTOOS. He is the definition of a rough, fierce pirate.

He likes hunting prizes and spending his gold on drinking, gambling, and fucking, really any pleasure he’s for, but his favourite thing is a good old fashioned fight. I think he'd do very well in slave fighting pits and probably even had some experience with them in the past. Though he is adamantly against slavery and has been known to hunt slavers and free slaves (any pirate who engages in trading slaves is not considered a pirate to him but a blight to be obliterated from the map). Because of his past he absolutely despises the British and really any kind of authority. While not on Izaya’s level of intelligence he’s got great instincts and can almost seemingly sniff out a good prize.

* don't sue me Oda

Rival Captains

Izaya and Shizuo both meet in Nassau in the Caribbean. They are the definition of brains VS brawns. These two crews are always running into each other and fighting. While Shizuo is ferocious and terrifying, when in the same room as these two pirates one would consider Izaya more menacing. Shizuo's and Izaya's rivalry is well known throughout the seas and seeing them fight in person is the stuff of legends.

They're constantly going after the same prizes and then fighting over them. Though there are a few times they do team up for an alliance when it's a very delectable prize. Also they will unanimously team up against the British, the Spaniards, the French, the Dutch, etc, because as much as the loathe each other they hate anyone who would try and encroach on their freedoms.

Basically they are both stubborn as hell and don't like being told what to do.

For their ships I can see Izaya having a Brigard, something swift, that at Izaya's hand can outmanoeuvre and outwit any foe. Of course his ship has a dragon as the figurehead! I haven't thought much in the way of a Jolly Rodger, but maybe a dragon skull and instead of crossbones it is crossed samurai swords??

Shizuo on the other hand has a British Man-O-War that he no doubt won after he and Izaya teamed up to launch an attack on British settlement when both their crew-mates were captured and sentenced to death for piracy. Izaya lead an assault on land while Shizuo and his crew snuck onto the Man-O-War in the port and captured it, then turned it's guns on the settlement. For his jolly rodger I think it would be the usual skull and crossbones with maybe his infamous Warhammer running through the center line.

The sexual tension between the two captains is a painful to watch for their crews and each crew even has a betting pool going on when they will eventually get it on. The crews actually get on relatively well during alliances, and the parties and feasts they throw together after a successful hunt is wild. Though they'll easily go back to trying to kill one another one the alliances end.

Also a lil Shinra add-on. In Izaya's quest for the occult they find Celty and Shinra falls in love with her. I haven't thought more past pirate dullahan asgdfhdhjsjf.

And yeah that’s all I have so far. I also had an idea of Izaya being like the son of an important person (governer, prince? Prince Izaya is good) and being captured by Shizuo’s crew. And while they are pursued by multiple pirates, nations, etc, because Izaya is priceless, he learns to love life on a pirate ship and bonds with Shizuo and his crew. So eventually when it does come time for Shizuo to hand over his bounty he doesn’t want to let Izaya go. (He’s gonna, and then he and Izaya will turn around and rob the fuckers blind and sail off into the sunset together). Also Izaya memorising a treasure map and destroying it so he becomes the map and Shizuo has to put up with him. TOO MANY IDEAS.

#pirate shizaya au #pirate au #pirates my beloved #shizaya #orihara izaya #heiwajima shizuo

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kyuuppi · 4 years ago

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Fruit Salad (NSFW)

Pairing: Orihara Izaya x Reader ( ♀ )

Genre: SMUT, a lot of subtle fluff cause Izaya is my husbando and I love him

⚠️WARNING⚠️ Oh boy... food play, object insertion, light dirty talk, maybe some degradation?, kitchen sex, fingering, really messy oral, light nipple play, biting, spit play, slightly insecure reader, unfortunately Izaya does not get nakey :(

WC: 4.4k

Izaya hums to himself as he moves around the room with purpose, seeming to have already mentally planned at least ten steps ahead of each action he takes--the antithesis to your own frazzled, jerky movements as your flit between various cardboard boxes, unable to recall the contents of a single one without reading the haphazard black sharpie words etched on the sides. You feel frustration well within you as you realize you are not even halfway done with unpacking the bedroom after nearly two hours.

‘Why the hell do I have so many clothes when I wear the same three sweatshirts every week!’

Glancing over at Izaya’s side of the room you can’t help but feel envious at his few, neatly organized boxes he seems to instinctively know the contents of. All of his clothing seems to fit in a single large box, the bulk of his belongings being various computer hardware and other communication devices that he handles with care.

As per usual, he seems to have a sixth sense for knowing exactly what you’re thinking and his head lifts from the short stack of books in his hands to meet your annoyed gaze with a taunting grin.

“It’s rude to stare, y’know.”

You tear your eyes away from his form with a scoff, a self of hopelessness coming over your form when your eyes land on yet another box mockingly labelled “clothes.” Three months ago, when Izaya had suggested the two of you move in together as your lease at your previous place was coming to an end, you had been ecstatic, to say the least. In the midst of your twenties it is easy to compare yourself to others you deemed more successful and established and you were starting to feel your minimum wage job and shabby apartment complex, filled with mostly rowdy college freshmen with a few grumpy elderly cat ladies sprinkled in, was holding you back. Moving into a fancy new apartment you could never even dream of affording by yourself and with your handsome boyfriend of two years no less--now that is how succeeding in life really looks, right? You were excited to open a new chapter of your life but now, as you stand in the middle of an unfamiliar living room with at least thirty boxes scattered around and the beginnings of hunger pains settling in the pits of your stomach from skipping breakfast, you aren’t so sure.

The beginnings of your internal self-pity rants are interrupted by the familiar childish lilt of Izaya’s voice as he approaches one of the larger boxes by your side.

“My, my...it seems my favorite little human needs some help,” he teases, easily cutting through the messy layers of packing tape with one of his numerous pocket knives he seems to always have.

In the corner of your eye you recognize one of the colorful lumps that springs from the opened box as a childhood Gudetama plush you had all but forgotten you owned. It likely lived most of the past four years in the back corner of your closet, to be honest.

Izaya’s offer immediately relieves some of the pressure from your shoulders and you find yourself growing warm at his display of genuine kindness. At times like these it is difficult to imagine Izaya as the sadistic monster most of Ikebukuro makes him out to be--

“I wonder if I’ll find something naughty in one of these boxes~”

Nevermind. He is definitely a monster.

You use all of your strength to jab his arm in retaliation, your face feeling hot as you sputter out that you don’t have any “naughty” belongings, thank you very much! He only laughs manically, completely unfazed by your physical attack as he makes his way to your new shared bedroom to put your unnecessarily large collection of plushies away.

Having some of your burdens removed you feel much more clear headed and decide to get started on putting the dishes away so the two of you could at least have silverware for the takeout you’ll inevitably be ordering soon. Having spent a great deal of time in a few of Izaya’s apartments over the past few years, you already have an idea of where he keeps certain things and you try to make a conscious effort to satisfy the both of you with locations you think make the most sense. Pretty soon, the repetitive actions of putting forks in draws and plates in cupboards becomes second nature and you find yourself zoning out as you work, oblivious to Izaya’s own labors in the other room until his voice once again breaks the relative silence of the apartment.

“What’s in this box?” Izaya asks innocently as he approaches the kitchen you’re in.

You turn your head to look at what he is referring to, unsurprised to find him already peering inside the flaps of the bright pink box he had just opened. It would be more surprising to you if he hadn’t opened the box. As an information broker and a naturally curious person in general, Izaya has a habit of checking things himself rather than waiting for someone to tell him what he wants to hear. You suppose in his field he is used to people attempting to lie to protect themselves anyway but the first few months of having your boyfriend casually invading every aspect of your privacy were overwhelming, to say the least. Rather than reaching a compromise (Izaya didn’t exactly do compromises), you grew used to it and no longer felt scandalized if you saw him shamelessly scrolling through your cell phone you had just changed the pass code to or bringing up a topic you had only talked about once before with a close friend. His actions had good intentions behind them...usually.

You recognize the pink box immediately and can’t help but to smile fondly at the memory.

“Ah, my mom dropped that off when she came to visit a few weeks ago. She said it's a housewarming gift. I haven’t gotten around to opening it though,” you answer, watching as he pulls out a few items and placing them on the breakfast bar between you two.

The first few objects are what you would expect, a few overpriced scented candles and a plush blanket in your favorite color. It is one of the last few items Izaya pulls out that has your mouth falling slack with shock and his own expression morphing from confusion to pure glee. Dangled from his right hand is an atrociously bright colored pack of small, uniform circles surrounded by clear plastic squares adorning matching colored cartoon fruits drawn on each.

Condoms...fruit flavored condoms.

You silently pray the group will just open up and swallow you whole as Izaya carelessly tosses the box to the side to turn all of his attention on the pack in his hands, excitedly assessing each of the options. While of course you are no stranger to sex, Izaya had a healthy libido afterall, it was generally a small, undisclosed part of your relationship together. When the moment struck it would happen, generally very vanilla with the occasional teasing remarks or dirty talk via Izaya, but afterwards neither of you ever talked about it or brought it up. But...now that you two would be living together...would it happen more often? Your cheeks instantly heat up in mortification at where your own perverted train of thought was rapidly heading.

“Which do you think we should try first, y/n-chan?” your boyfriend casually asks, eying the bright yellow pineapple flavor.

You nearly choke on your own spit.

“Wh-wha...Izaya, we need to get back to unpacking! P-put those away already,” you stutter out, stepping forward in an attempt to grab the pack from his hands, missing when he easily side-steps you and instead grabs your arm to pull you closer to his warm body. Your brain nearly short circuits when he leans forward to your left ear, hot breath leaving goosebumps along your neck as he murmurs.

“It’s important to take breaks, y’know,” he suggests calmly, like a doctor placating a panicked patient.

It works infuriatingly well and you find your whole body feeling like gelatin as you subconsciously relax in his hold.

“You like strawberries, right, y/n-chan~?”

You nod dumbly, thoughts too scattered to even think about what he’s really asking when his soft lips are just barely brushing the tip of your ear before his teeth offer a little nip that has your whole body shuddering. You’re brought back to your senses when you feel the arms he had snaked around your waist contract and pull up, gently placing you on top of the kitchen island.

“W-wait, we should go to the bedroom.”

Izaya seems unperturbed, fiddling with something behind you as his lips leave a trail of searing kisses along your neck. He doesn’t make a move to acknowledge your suggestion until you place your hands on his shoulders and attempt to push him off of you, at which he naturally doesn’t budge a single centimeter.

“Hmm? I’m in the kitchen because I’m going to eat something--I don’t see the problem.”

Something in the pit of your stomach flutters at the implication and you can’t find it in yourself to argue further. He disconnects from your neck and takes a step back only to tug at the bottom of your top. You raise your arms obediently, the action almost instinctive at this point, and he pulls your shirt off of your body, wasting no time removing your bra immediately afterwards. You immediately shiver at the sudden cold and would have moved your arms in front of your chest in embarrassment at how the brightly lit kitchen in midday leaves you feeling more exposed than usual but Izaya moves quickly and his lips are already back on your neck before you can ever react. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed a bowl of fruits next to you that you didn’t remember being there before. You think nothing of it and let your eyes flutter closed when Izaya’s lips finally find your right nipple, sucking the nub into his hot mouth without hesitation, making your spine tingle. Your hands move up to clutch his dark locks, desperate for something to keep you grounded but the action only spurs him on further and he lets out a soft groan as he swirls his tongue around before scrapping the sensitive flesh with his teeth. You yelp when he sucks harshly, back arching away only for his hands to keep your firmly in place. He pulls back, releasing the nipple with a small pop before he moves his attention to it’s twin. You feel lightheaded with the contrast of cold air nipping at the rapidly cooling saliva on your right nipple while the left one is subjected to the blazing heat of Izaya’s mouth.

His right hand remains secured on the small of your back while the left first around to tease the nipple not in his mouth, mimicking the actions of his tongue with his fingers as he rolls the hardened bud in tight circles before pinching which his teeth nip. Your thighs rub together as you feel wetness pool in your underwear and you briefly wonder if it's possible to reach an orgasm with nipple stimulation alone.

Before you can find out firsthand, Izaya releases both of your nipples and pulls back. You can’t help the small whine that escapes your lips at the loss when both nipples now feel cold and achy. He giggles at that, the gleam in his vermillion eyes seeming dangerous.

“Don’t worry, princess, Izaya-sama will take good care of you~” he childishly promises, a stark contrast to the nimble fingers now unbuttoning your shorts before gently pushing your shoulder back until you lay flat on the marble counter. The surface is cold and hard, uncomfortable on your back, but the heat between your legs takes priority over all other discomforts. You waste no time lifting your hips so he can slide the fabric of your shorts and panties down your legs at once, all usual inhibitions seemingly lost when your head feels so fuzzy.

Izaya’s large hands firmly plant themselves on each of your knees and spread them apart slowly, like he’s opening his own personal Christmas present, until your heels are pressed into the edge of the counter. You can feel the cold air on your folds and know you must be absolutely soaked but you can’t resist chancing a glance up at Izaya’s expression.

Big mistake.

You can see the hunger in his eyes as his gaze is glued to the space between your thighs, licking his own lips in anticipation. Your core clenches at the sight and you feel more slick leaking out of your hole. His eyes follow the movement before he glances up at your flushed face and offers a knowing smirk. You think your soul just left your body.

His left hand slides down from your knee to your inner thigh, thumb resting right at the junction between your leg and pelvis right his right hand moves directly to your folds, two fingers gliding easily along the slick lips before reaching your clit, causing your whole body to jerk at the light contact.

He rubs circles around your clit through the hood until whines and soft moans are spilling your lips, his other hand teasing your folds with just his thumb. All movement stops abruptly and he pulls his hands away but before you can even mourn the loss of stimulation, his thumbs are hooked into each side of your folds and pulling your cunt open before he’s ducking his head down and swiping his tongue along the wetness. The moan that leaves your throat sounds nearly pornographic but you find it difficult to care when the tip of his wet tongue moves up to flick at your clit a few times before sliding back down and circling your small hole.

Izaya is neat and organized in all other aspects of his life but every time he eats your pussy it’s absolutely messy. Rather than lapping up your wetness he drools around his own tongue, making it ever wetter until every movement releases obscene clicks and sloshing sounds. He pulls back only a few centimeters, retracting his tongue back into his mouth for a second. You watch with morbid fascination as he collects the saliva in his mouth only to purse his lips over your pussy and let the liquid slowly drip down directly into your twitching hole. It feels dirty, it is dirty, but you can’t deny the flutter in your gut and the way your core absolutely pulses in pleasure as you audibly whimper. He keeps you spread open as his tongue delves back in, thrusting in and out of you before returning to your engorged clit. His right hand releases its hold only to push his middle finger inside of you, an easy glide with excess liquids dripping down to the counter by now. With each inwards thrust his finger curls upwards, stabbing a part of your fleshy insides that make your vision bloom until the kitchen lights above you are starbursts and everything is swimming.

The next time he pulls his middle finger out he presses his ring finger beside it and both are pressing into you, providing the slight sting of a stretch that has you keening while your cunt eagerly accepts them. His lips wrap around your clit to harshly suck as his two fingers press into that same spongy part and you’re seeing stars. You feel a familiar pressure in the pits of your belly, building bigger and bigger with each thrust of his fingers and scrape of his teeth against your clit. You’re going to cum soon.

“I-ngh--Izaya,” you whimper out, struggling to form the words you need to express your warning.

It is pointless really, Izaya is already exceptional at reading body language, even more so yours. He only hums in acknowledgement, the vibrations further stimulating your clit and making you press your hips forwards, seeking more as you draw closer and closer to the finish line. Every muscle in your body seems to contract as you feel it coming, tensing up in preparation for the impending release.

That’s when he decides to pull away.

You aren’t sure whether to cry or punch him in the face when you feel your incoming climax completely disappear, leaving your clit still throbbing and your hole empty, hopelessly clenching and unclenching around nothing. Your eyes open to give him the strongest glare you can muster only for him to not even be looking at you, instead fiddling with something you can’t see from your angle. You open your mouth, ready to curse him out until the words die in your throat as you watch him bring the fingers of high right hand that were just inside of you to his own mouth, casually licking them clean. Your heart stutters in your chest.

“Hmm...ah, this one is perfect.”

Your brows furrow in confusion as he seems to make up his mind about something. You move to sit up but he’s already back between your legs, grinning down at you as if he hadn’t just robbed you of an orgasm.

His left thumb slides back to your clit, making you shudder as a flame seems to rekindle inside of you. He wastes no time to set a fast pace rubbing your clit, quickly bringing you back close to where you were before but not quite. Then you feel something blunt pressed against your whole, much larger than any of his fingers. For a moment you think it might be his cock but you don’t recall seeing him unbuckle his pants at any point and the cool temperature is nothing like his familiar heat.

The object is circled around your hole and you notice it feels really smooth...like latex.

“Wh-what is that,” you ask nervously. The two of you haven't used toys before and you don’t recall him ever mentioning owning any.

His grin widens, seeming amused by your apprehension.

“You wanted to try strawberry, right? Well, I prefer bananas so why not both.”

You scramble to sit up and nearly have a heart attack when you see the curved yellow object wrapped in neon pink pressed against your pussy.

“Izaya, th-thats…!”

“Strawberry and banana--its like a smoothie~,” he explains proudly.

A sudden pinch on your clit has your arms faltering and makes you fall back, yelping as your back reconnects with the marble.

“Now be a good girl, yeah? I need to take care of this poor pussy.”

You choke on your own saliva as he presses the covered tip of the thick fruit into you, slowly stretching your hole open with a sharp sting.

“It’s just begging to be filled,” he croons.

You feel the stretch of each centimeter as he pushes it in but Izaya is relentless and doesn’t let up on the pressure until the tip bumps into your cervix and your muscles are spasming uncontrollably as your mouth opens in a silent scream.

“It’s...big,” you stutter out dumbly, hardly even aware you’re speaking out loud.

Izaya feigns an innocently concerned expression as his left thumb continues to rub circles into your clit.

“Ehh~? Then we’ll have to make sure we stretch you open properly ‘cause my cock is even bigger.”

You instinctively clench as you feel him pulling it out slowly, never fully removing it before he’s pushing it back in. The residual wetness from earlier makes a resounding squelch every time he pushes it back in that has your cheeks burning in shame.

With each thrust the stretch stings less and less, aided by his teasing on your clit never faltering, and instead you feel the familiar pleasure of having something thrusting inside of you, rubbing against your slick walls. The natural curve of the fruit forces the tip to hook into a spot just before your cervix then dragging along the top of your walls as it’s pulled out only to repeat the motion. That same pressure in your lower belly returns but a little stronger and you think if Izaya denies your orgasm this time you might actually die.

Izaya however, does not offer any indications that he plans to do so and instead moves his left hand from your cit to push your right thigh higher, your knee nearly touching your chest, so he has room to lean down use his tongue instead, right hand still continuing to fuck the banana into you, gradually quickening his pace until it feels punishing and its almost too much. The battering of the tip against your cervix has your body trying to pull away but Izaya’s hand keeps you firmly in place, forcing you to accept whatever he gives you.

It’s when he uses his teeth to lightly nibble on your bud while simultaneously shifting the angle of fruit that your climax rips through your body, setting every nerve ending in your body on fire and rendering your eyes useless as white blinds your vision. Your mouth is open and sounds are coming out but you yourself can’t even process what you’re saying. Izaya continues his assault with vigor, making you ride out your orgasm to its fullest before the come down has you too sensitive and using what little remains of your strength to kick him away and attempt to close your legs.

You hardly have the strength to deny him of anything on a good day, let alone after an intense orgasm, but he seems to be feeling generous enough to stop when you say it's too much. He pulls his head away from between your thighs and you try to ignore the glistening juices dripping down the corners of his mouth and smeared on his chin as he slowly removes the banana from your fluttering pussy. You feel empty again and you can literally feel your stretched hole gaping, leaving you feeling embarrassed. Izaya dips down suddenly to press a single peck to your clit. You whine softly in over-sensitivity but the unexpectedly sweet gesture makes your chest feel warm.

As you attempt to catch your breath, Izaya moves away again, removing the sticky condom from the fruit and throwing it in the trash bin before placing the equally sticky banana back on the counter next to the fruit bowl. You’re about to make a complaint when he moves back to your side, smirking at your disheveled state and picking you up, one hand behind your back and the other beneath your knees, to carry you to the bedroom.

He places you on the freshly made sheets gingerly, your body immediately sinking into the plush mattress like a puddle. He leaves the room only to return a few seconds later with a plastic bottle of water and a paper pamphlet you recognize as the menu to one of your favorite takeout restaurants. Your brows furrow in confusion as he takes a seat next to you on the bed, silently skimming through the menu, undoubtedly already knowing what both of you will order.

Despite the heaviness in your lids and bonelessness of your body, you sit up to question the man.

“Izaya?”

His eyes shift over to you in question, his expression dangerously mischievous yet unreadable as usual.

“Aren’t you...don’t you need to, like...get off?” you cringe at how awkward and undeniably unsexy your words sound and you can see the mirth in his gaze but he decides to spare you the teasing for now.

“Aww, my little human is so eager to please her god~” he lilts.

You roll your eyes in response before squealing when he pulls you into his arms, forcing you both to lie back down on the bed, entangled in his arms while he teasing blows a puff of air in your left ear just to watch you squirm as you try to get away.

“Don’t worry, y/n-chan, I’m satisfied just watching you.”

Your chest swells and your annoyed expression melts into a small smile at the implication that he cared more about your own pleasure and exhaustion than his own needs--

“I never would have thought you’d enjoy getting fucked by a fruit so much~! Next time should we try a cucumber?”

You have zero regrets when you punch him in the chest.

#izaya x reader #durarara #durarara imagine #durarara scenario #izaya imagine #izaya scenario #reader insert #smut #durarara smut #izaya smut #durarara x reader #anime imagine #anime scenario #anime fic #durarara fic #forgive me lord for i have sinned #I just want Izaya to eat my pssy like that :(

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worseandworser · 4 years ago

Text

lacking

Ship: shizaya

Rating: T

Warnings/tags: omegaverse with a twist, possibly OOC, alpha!Shizuo, sigma!Izaya (lol)

ao3

Izaya Orihara had no scent. Nothing. Not a whiff of it.

Shizuo was taken aback the moment they met — he heard the sound of clapping, saw crimson eyes matching a red shirt and pitch-black hair, but he couldn't smell anything. He couldn't sense anything. The only feeling that boy inspired was a strange perception that there was something lacking about him. Shizuo could recall the growl forming in the depths of his own chest, the mind-wracking wave of rage tangling around his heart like a vine, and then jumping into a fight that would seemingly have no end. Izaya Orihara had no scent; just a smile. Cunning, knife-sharp lips twisted upwards. He dodged Shizuo's attacks and stood unfazed by the intimidating effect Shizuo's anger brought out in every single person he had met in his life.

Being an alpha implied heightened senses, and being Shizuo Heiwajima implied taking that to a whole new level. He could smell a beta — the soft, monochromatic buzz they exhaled — from across the room. Omegas or alphas — depending on the scent, from across the block. Shinra had once theorized that the range of pheromones Shizuo can perceive could be the cause of his temperamental outbursts, as if he was living in a constant state of emotional overload, or something like that. Shizuo didn't really pay attention, much less understand. Though he did get that Izaya Orihara was not alpha, nor beta, and much less an omega.

Sigma, Shinra had said. He can't release or be affected by pheromones.

That alone had sent Shizuo in another surge of anger.

And after that, he went back home and asked his mother about it.

She frowned at him. "Sigma? Do you know someone like that?" Then, at Shizuo's explanation, she shook her head. "Stay away from him. That kind of person is not to be trusted."

In the beginning, Shizuo agreed with her. Not only that, but he thought it'd be easy. No scent meant he wouldn't be walking around Raijin under the constant awareness of Izaya Orihara and pretending he didn't exist would be the easiest thing. It'd be the first time Shizuo wouldn't have to worry about the pheromonal shadow of a bastard who pissed him off.

But of course, Izaya Orihara had different plans.

* * * *

kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill

* * * *

The next morning, the asshole was hiding on the school's roof, arms splayed over the railing and the devilish smile plastered to his face.

"You sent that gang after me," Shizuo accused.

With an almost-perfectly crafted innocent expression, Izaya Orihara tilted his head to the side, exposing his neck, but the wave of pheromones Shizuo expected never came. "I have no idea what you are talking about, Shizu-chan."

Shizuo's hands closed in tight fists. "Don't call me that!"

"Ah, since you're asking so politely," said Izaya. "What would Shizu-chan prefer, then? I'm thinking of 'Beast'." He grinned. "Or maybe Monster."

After that, everything became a blur of red, red, red — and black hair tousled by the wind, and the silver gleam of a knife, and the chirping tone of taunting, and crimson eyes that followed Shizuo's every movement like they could eat him alive. And no scent.

Nothing. Not a whiff of it.

It was disturbing, distressing, disconcerting: how could someone who could not feel others, who could not assess their intentions or states, be so quick on his feet and escape Shizuo's grasp like he was made of butter? How could he dodge Shizuo's strength, surpass his speed, predict his strike before even Shizuo could know himself? How could Izaya Orihara, when he was lacking? How could Izaya Orihara know Shizuo Heiwajima, when Shizuo Heiwajima couldn't smell a whiff of Izaya Orihara himself?

He was always so close, Shizuo's hand reached just right next to the black middle-school jacket, and Izaya slipped away by the width of a hair.

And then he laughed, tilting his head to the side, and the sharp breath Shizuo would take as a reflex brought nothing but the scent of their surroundings.

* * * *

Over the years, Shizuo learned more about sigmas. They were rare, extremely so. Izaya had been the first one in Raijin in years. Perhaps, one of the few in the entirety of Tokyo. And just like Shizuo had noticed on the first day they met, sigmas are lacking — no pheromones, no glands, no receptors. If betas are considered to have mild, flexible scents, then sigmas have nothing to show. No pheromones meant they couldn't communicate normally, they couldn't sense you and your needs and you couldn't sense theirs, so all the books, and pamphlets, and late-night TV shows said the same: therefore they can't be trusted.

"I'm always alone no matter what I do," he groused to Celty, after one of his and Izaya's fights. "I guess Izaya is the same as me. That bastard probably doesn't have anyone he can call a friend."

Must be a lonesome existence, that of a sigma. If Shizuo, with his heightened senses and all, had such a hard time with people, he couldn't imagine what it would be like. To not have the confirmation that he wasn't unwanted — to not have the soft sweetness of Celty's scent, in that specific brand that spoke of companionship.

But yeah, that flea did not deserve an ounce of his sympathy.

He is nothing like you, Celty's PDA said.

Shizuo nodded, with an odd hesitation almost weighting his head immobile.

* * * *

One day, Shizuo had his nose buried in Izaya's neck, right where the glands should be, and Izaya still had no scent.

He smelled of skin, sweat, fancy soap, and shampoo. Coffee. The city's traffic. But all of those were neutral, they were supposed to be background noise to the idiosyncratic experience that Izaya Orihara should be but there was nothing. Not a whiff of it.

"Stop slobbering all over my neck," Izaya snapped. "If you bite me, I'll stab your eyeball out of the socket. But thinking better, with your monster healing, you might as well grow a new one in—"

So Shizuo moved back to his lips. To shut him up, of course.

Shizuo wasn't one to sleep around — or better yet, with his particular strength, he couldn't be one to sleep around — but he had tried before. Two omegas and a beta. With the first two, he had felt intoxicated, out of control, it was like losing his temper except that it was good actually, and both smelled like strawberry cake and sweet vanilla, mouth-watering and mind-blowing. The second was an unlucky drunk night, red-dyed hair and a loud, obnoxious laugh, and rain and saltwater and whatever nostalgia he could get from Raijin's library. They all had scents, strong ones, and Shizuo knew what to do simply by breathing in and following his instincts.

But Izaya — just like everything about him, this was also difficult. When Shizuo breathed in, he was left on edge. The oddity of the lack of pheromones struck him over and over, as it did every time they met, as if Shizuo could never be truly prepared for the lack of instinctual balance, of communication, of that irrational connection he had no idea he needed until he met someone who couldn't create it.

To guide himself, Shizuo had to pay attention to other signs. The hitch of Izaya's breath, the twitch of his hips and thighs, the gasps, the whimpers, the moans. The bossing around — Shizu-chan touch here, right there, yes, faster, harder, don't bite don't bite — the way Izaya clawed at his arms and back and chest and did exactly what he told Shizuo not to and bit down, right on Shizuo's neck, right where it mattered, where it would matter were Izaya anyone but himself. But all they got from the bite was blood, the smell bitter and heavy, sending sparks of heat down Shizuo's spine.

Shizuo growled and Izaya let him. Let him. His body bending to Shizuo without the need for words. As if Izaya could sense what Shizuo wanted, as if he could feel it, and accommodate it like he was made for it.

* * * *

In the aftermath, when they laid down on Izaya's expensive sheets, Shizuo curled an arm around him to pull him close. This time, Izaya didn't slip away, no; he hid his face in Shizuo's neck, nosed the bite he left there, and breathed in deep.

Shizuo's hold tightened.

#shizaya #omegaverse #man writing shizuo's pov is so difficult i feel like banging my head against a wall

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sachigram · 4 years ago

Note

I think a lot about Hearts Like Ours because I've been wanting to comment on the last chapter since it came out and I finally think I can. On another note, I read that "send me some Shizaya prompts you'd like to see! Who knows, maybe I'll write a few" please, don't feel obligated at all, but I can't write myself and I've been thinking about a story for a long time, about Izaya being in love with Shizuo since Highschool but extremely hurt because he hated him on sight, and then on present time +

“And then on present time Izaya finds out that someone is going to hurt Kasuka, Shizuo doesn't answer his phone so Izaya goes to the place himself and without thinking puts himself between Kasuka and the guy who has going to stab him, Kasuka takes him to Shinra and after this Shizuo gets obsessed with trying to know why Izaya would almost die for Kasuka.”

For you, @murasaki19! I wrote this very quickly, and I am sure there are errors, but I hope it cheers you up! <3 Your reviews mean a lot to me, and I’ve missed seeing your name in my notes. I’m always around if you need to talk!

It happens by accident, really.

Izaya keeps tabs on everyone and everything; it's part of his informant position. Even the most trivial of information can be useful later, like pawns making it across the chessboard. Honestly, it has nothing to do with Shizuo or his family. Still, Izaya stumbles across a plot to kidnap Kasuka, and wars with himself on what to do about it.

On one hand, he hates Shizuo, and therefore, he hates Kasuka. He should revel in the idea of Kasuka being killed or worse, should love the thought of the anguish it would cause Shizuo to lose his precious baby brother.

On the other hand, Izaya has sisters, and he knows Shizuo has helped keep them out of trouble more than a few times, even while hating Izaya.

Something else entirely, Izaya doesn't want Shizuo to lose Kasuka, and it makes Izaya so sick of himself that he can't even look at his reflection on his dark phone screen.

“Fuck,” he mutters, shoving back from his computer. He picks up his phone, goes to Shizuo's contact, hesitates. He can call Shizuo and let the beast handle it. Whether Shizuo believes him or not, Izaya can say he tried, and that should settle his conscience, right? It should be the end of Izaya's involvement.

He presses the 'call' button. It rings once, and then goes to voicemail, and Izaya clenches his teeth, knowing Shizuo ignored the call and likely would delete a voicemail before listening to it. Izaya can't blame him, but still, being ignored always pisses Izaya off beyond anything else.

“Should just let him lose his fucking brother,” Izaya grumbles to no one. Namie left for the day, and no one else will be coming by. Shinra likely would ignore a call from Izaya as well. He's alone in this, as he normally is.

For once, he finally feels the emptiness.

***

He's in the city— He doesn't have a clue what he's doing.

The men who are going to take Kasuka have his work schedule figured out. It's not hard to attain information like that, as long as you know the right people. Izaya himself buys most of his information, and turns around and sells it to whoever asks. It's possible some of these men work with Kasuka, or some of them could have hacked into his file, his schedule, his manager's schedules. Something like this just happened with Kasuka's little girlfriend, right? And then Shinra got attacked. Everyone should have learned a lesson from that, but...

“The more things change,” Izaya mutters aloud.

“Hello?” A man's voice answers him. Izaya sighs, realizing Kasuka heard him and is addressing him. Kasuka is alone— Why is he alone? Where's security? Where's the driver? The car is parked, so where is the fucking driver? “Oh. Orihara-san?”

“Yes,” Izaya says, quieting the questions zipping through his mind. He has an image to maintain, if nothing else, and even if he wasn't consciously planning on coming here, he's here now, and he has to make it look like he meant to be.

“Did you...need something?” Kasuka asks, and Izaya can only imagine how confused Kasuka must be. He's heard awful things for years about Izaya, true things, and all Kasuka knows is that Izaya hates Shizuo, and Shizuo hates Izaya.

“Why are you alone?” Izaya asks, stalling. He moves away from the wall he was leaning against and inches closer to Kasuka.

“My driver is across the street, grabbing to-go food. The guards are right by the door,” Kasuka says in his usual bored tone.

“Inside isn't close enough to stop something from happening,” Izaya says, and Kasuka tilts his head.

“Are you going to attack me or something?”

“I'm only saying, it would be better for you to have someone around, anyone.” Izaya looks over his shoulder, paranoid. He doesn't care about what happens to Kasuka. He's told himself that over and over, and yet, here he is.

“Well. You're here,” Kasuka says with a shrug. “And my driver will be right back.”

Izaya is about to answer and say something along the lines of, 'why wouldn't a big celebrity have his own bodyguards?', or, 'isn't your girlfriend some kind of monster with inhuman strength?', but he doesn't get the chance. Everything happens so fast from there, and even afterwards, Izaya still doesn't know what exactly happened.

All he knows is, he wakes up at Shinra's, and there's a hole in his stomach.

***

“I'm just. I'm floored, you know? I'm totally flabbergasted!” Shinra says jovially as he applies something to Izaya's wound. “Kasuka-san called me and was as close to panicking as can be allowed. He hasn't sounded like that since Hijiribe-san got injured. He drove you here and said you took a knife for him! Could it be that my influence from all those years ago rubbed off on you?”

“Would you please stop talking?” Izaya asks, irritated for many reasons, one of which being Shinra's voice. He has another scar from a knife wound. Izaya doesn't ever want to get stabbed again. It's not fun at all. He wouldn't recommend it to anybody.

“I just wanna know what was going through your head!” Shinra chatters. “Did you know what you were doing? It seems like you don't remember. Did you know the news is reporting you as a hero? They used your name! Hey, are you listening?” Shinra leans over Izaya, squinting at him.

“I don't remember it,” Izaya says, shoving Shinra away. “I was on autopilot.”

“Ah, well,” Shinra says. He leans back in his chair and shrugs a bit. “I think maybe you're working on clearing your bad name. Unfortunately, you'll have to get stabbed a lot more.”

Celty walks in, and Izaya sees his reflection in her helmet. He closes his eyes, not wanting to deal with her, but Shinra laughs at whatever she tells him.

“Kasuka-san is here to visit you. We told him you were awake.”

“What!” Izaya tries to sit up, regrets it immediately. He falls into the sheets with a wince. “I don't want to see him.”

“Sorry,” Kasuka's voice says, already in the room. “They said it was okay.”

“One day, I'm going to sell Shinra to pirates,” Izaya says.

“That might work. A doctor always has value,” Kasuka replies, and Izaya nods. There's silence for a few moments, and then Kasuka clears his throat. “You saved me.”

“I didn't. Or, I didn't mean to.”

“I wanted to thank you.”

“Don't. It's gross; I don't want your thanks.”

“Still,” Kasuka insists, and when Izaya looks over at him, Kasuka is giving him an earnest expression. “I could be in this bed, or much worse. I could be dead. Thank you.”

“Thanking me would be acceptable if I went with the intention of saving you. I didn't. I didn't think about it, and I don't remember it. So really, you don't have to—“

There's a bang in the next room, followed by Shinra shouting.

“WHERE IS HE?!”

“Oh,” Kasuka says, and then he stands. “Shizuo's here.”

“Fucking great,” Izaya mutters. He wonders if Shinra can give him more drugs.

Heavy footsteps thud towards the door, and then it's flying open, revealing a frantic Shizuo. Immediately, he's on Kasuka, looking him over, talking so quickly that Izaya realizes he's already on a lot of drugs, because he can't focus on it. Izaya giggles and moves his hands around in the air, finally feeling the effects of whatever Shinra gave him.

“Why's he here?!” Shizuo barks, and Izaya drops his hands and pouts up at the Heiwajima brothers.

“Can't you have a reunion elsewhere? I'm recovering from an ordeal,” Izaya says, and he blinks as his words slur. “Shinra! What did you give me?”

“Morphine,” Shinra calls.

“I like it.”

“Most people do.”

“Orihara-san—“ Kasuka begins.

“Gross, call me Izaya,” Izaya interjects.

“Uh. Izaya-san saved me. He took a knife for me,” Kasuka continues.

“What? That's fucking impossible. I'm sure he's probably the one who hired those guys to begin with,” Shizuo says, and Izaya tries to be offended, but can't really argue.

“No. Izaya-san showed up on his own, and then some men charged us. Izaya-san jumped in front of me, and then my guards came out from all the noise.”

“I don't buy it. He was involved,” Shizuo argues.

“Even if he was, he paid a price for it,” Kasuka says. Izaya is back to waving his hands around, and he pauses when he feels that everyone is looking at him.

“Am I supposed to say something profound?” Izaya asks. “I think— I think I'm stoned.”

Shizuo marches over to the bed and hovers over Izaya. He glares down at him, and Izaya tries to remember the last time they were this close. Didn't Shizuo headbutt him?

“Why the fuck would you do that? Why would you save my brother?” Shizuo asks.

“I didn't save anyone,” Izaya says, and then he reaches up and touches the tip of Shizuo's nose. “Boop.”

Shizuo snarls down at him, and then someone, probably Celty, drags Shizuo away. Izaya looks up at the empty space Shizuo left and misses Shizuo occupying it. Then, someone else hovers over him.

“I won't forget this, Izaya-san.” Kasuka puts his hand over Izaya's and squeezes. “Thank you.”

“Oh. Go away,” Izaya mutters, and he rolls over. “Being thanked so much reminds me why I'd rather everyone cursed me.”

“I'm sorry you feel that way,” Kasuka says.

“Don't thank him! Don't apologize to him! What the fuck!” Shizuo barks from somewhere, and then Izaya passes out again.

***

Next time he wakes, he's alone.

He reaches for his phone on the table next to the bed. He has messages from Namie, from Shiki, from his sisters. He grumbles and reads through Mairu's babbling about how much she loves him for taking a knife for Yuhei. He replies with a series of emojis, most of them the dancing red dress woman.

Namie asks if Izaya has a brain tumor.

Shiki wants to know if Izaya will return to work now that he's an A-list hero.

“Feeling better?” Shinra asks, and Izaya looks over at him. “You've been pretty out of it.”

“Am I still high?” Izaya asks.

“I hope not. I've been lowering your dosage. Are you in pain?”

“Mm. A little.”

“Do you want more medicine?”

“No. I'd like to think clearly.” Izaya puts his phone down. “I really don't remember it. I just...acted.”

“That's okay,” Shinra says. There's a beat of silence, and then, “You told me some...interesting things while you were doped up.”

“Ugh.” Izaya covers his eyes. “Were we alone?”

“Yeah. Yeah, Celty was in bed. It was just us.”

“Are we alone now?” Izaya asks, his voice muffled from his hands.

“Yes.”

“What did I say?”

Shinra laughs. “You said you didn't want to give Shizuo-kun another reason to hate you.”

“...is that all?” Izaya prompts.

“You might have mentioned loving him. Once or twice.”

“I changed my mind, I want more drugs,” Izaya says, and Shinra laughs again.

“It's okay. Really. I already kind of knew. You aren't as hard to read as you think you are,” Shinra says, and Izaya peeks up at him.

“I knew you knew.” Izaya groans and rubs his eyes. “It doesn't matter.”

“It matters,” Shinra says softly. “Loving someone always matters.”

“Oh, shut up,” Izaya says. “Anyway, can I go soon?”

“I want to keep you a little longer. Your wound is still bleeding a bit, and I can't let you go before I know for sure your stitches won't pop open. It'd be bad if your intestines started to escape, you know?”

“I imagine it wouldn't be good.”

“Have you thought of telling him?” Shinra asks. “Shizuo-kun, I mean. You could tell him.”

“And then what?” Izaya prompts. “He wouldn't believe me, and I wouldn't blame him. No, it's better he not know. I'm glad he wasn't in the room when I was out of it.”

Shinra sighs. “I wish he would have been.”

The day passes slowly. Izaya replies to messages on his phone, barks at Shinra for a charger when his phone starts to die. He and Shinra play cards, and Izaya's chest clenches when he thinks of how long it's been since he spent time with Shinra like this.

“You know, you can come over sometime,” Shinra says, clearly thinking the same. “I'd like that.”

“Your girlfriend hates me,” Izaya says.

“You think everyone hates you. You think it before they even know you. Besides, Celty is a forgiving angel. She doesn't hate anyone. Except, well, I guess she hates cops.”

When the sun starts to set, Shizuo comes back. Izaya pretends to be asleep, but Shizuo isn't having it. He shakes Izaya roughly until Izaya looks up at him through narrowed eyes.

“What?” Izaya asks, and Shizuo glares at him.

“Why'd you save my brother?”

“I told you, I don't know!” Izaya hisses, and he tries to roll away from Shizuo.

“Well, I decided I'm not leaving until you tell me!” Shizuo replies.

Izaya groans at the ceiling, and then he turns to Shizuo.

“You got me. I saved him so you'd owe me one. Now, I can ask you to do anything, and you have to do it.”

“Bullshit,” Shizuo says. “You think I don't know when you're lying? I can tell.”

“I don't know why,” Izaya says.

“Bullshit,” Shizuo says again.

“I don't know what you want me to say. You won't believe me no matter what my answer is.”

“You could try telling the truth. You know, for once.”

Izaya turns over and pulls his pillow over his head, refusing to answer. True to his word, Shizuo plops down into the chair Shinra was occupying earlier and refuses to leave.

“Are you staying for dinner?” Shinra asks a bit later.

“I guess,” Shizuo says.

“I always wanted us all to hang out!” Shinra says happily, and Shizuo and Izaya tell him to 'shut the fuck up' at the same time.

After dinner, and after Shinra offers to hand-feed Izaya for the tenth time, Shizuo winds up falling asleep on the chair, his arms crossed across his chest, his head lolling to the side. Even asleep, he looks irritated. It's not the first time Izaya's seen his sleeping face, but it's interesting nonetheless.

“I guess he's staying,” Shinra says, entering the room. He tosses a blanket over Shizuo. “I think this is progress.”

“He's just a stubborn monster,” Izaya mutters, and when Shinra leaves the room and turns the light out, Izaya is left listening to Shizuo's quiet breathing.

It's been a long time since Izaya slept in the same room as someone. He's used to his sisters falling asleep on him, and he's stayed with Shinra a few times, but this is something new. His worst enemy is unconscious next to him. Izaya knows he should be taking advantage of this, but he doesn't. He spends his time scrolling through his phone, and when he's bored of that, he watches Shizuo sleep. It's creepy, he knows it is. Izaya's always watched people because it's easier than interacting with them. Like this, it's almost like they could be friends, neither of them talking or arguing.

Shizuo twitches in his sleep and makes a noise, and Izaya tears his eyes away.

“I saved him for you,” Izaya whispers, knowing Shizuo won't hear him anyway. After a few minutes, Izaya sits up and carefully detaches himself from various wires. He can't stay here anymore, stitches be damned. He steps past Shizuo and pads down the hallway, collecting his things before he exits the apartment and arranges for someone to pick him up.

It's easier to be alone.

***

A week passes. Izaya works from his bed, relents to letting Shinra come give him checkups, and tortures Namie into bringing him things. By the end of the week, Namie is threatening to smother him with a pillow, which is actually pretty tame for her. Izaya isn't too worried about it. He knows she carries a paralyzing serum with her, after all. The fact she hasn't used it yet means she doesn't hate him too much.

She tells him she's leaving for the day, and he grunts at her, his eyes glued to the screen of his tablet. He's reading about Kasuka's latest gig, silently appraising the raise of security around Kasuka since the incident. Izaya's sisters have since cursed him, saying they'll never get through all the people around Kasuka now. Kasuka recently sent Izaya a fruit basket, and Izaya considers calling to Namie to bring him a pear, but he thinks better of it. She's pretty pissed at him already.

Next thing he knows, someone is in the doorway of his bedroom, loudly crunching on an apple.

“Shizu-chan,” Izaya says, setting the tablet down.

“That lady let me in,” Shizuo says as he strides across the room. “Did Kasuka send you this? The arrangement looked expensive.”

“He did. I don't suppose I could convince you to bring me a pear?” Izaya asks.

“I'll bring you one if you answer my questions honestly,” Shizuo says.

“Still caught up on that, huh? I've already said all there is to say.”

“Your loss, I guess,” Shizuo says with a shrug. “I'll start eating the pears next.”

“I hate you,” Izaya hisses. He crosses his arms and grumbles. “I wish I'd let your brother get stabbed instead.”

“Yeah, well. You didn't.”

“I should have. I wanted to.”

“Did you? Want to?”

Izaya exhales loudly and dramatically. “No. You wouldn't have let my sisters get stabbed. It's the same.”

“Yeah, but... It's not the same,” Shizuo says. “Kasuka is a grown man, and he's supposed to have guards on him. He's supposed to have people. Your sisters don't have anyone but you, and sometimes you're...”

“Inadequate?” Izaya asks.

“One person,” Shizuo corrects. “You're one person, and they escape where you can watch.”

“Dota-chin helps them, too. A lot of people do. I appreciate it, even if I don't say so.” Izaya groans and rubs at his wound under his shirt.

“Does it still hurt?” Shizuo asks.

“Yes. It's not too bad, though.”

“Shinra told me he took a knife for you once. It was crazy. I was pissed at him because I thought, if someone had just killed you then, I wouldn't have had to meet you at all.”

“I might have died,” Izaya says. “Nakura-kun hated me. He might have aimed somewhere more lethal the second time.”

“You didn't care though, did you? You wouldn't have cared if he wanted to kill you. You never cared when I wanted to,” Shizuo says.

“Who can say?” Izaya asks, and then he smiles. “I might have cared a little.”

“I don't want to hate you anymore,” Shizuo says. “You saved Kasuka. No matter what your reasons were, you saved him. And even before... Before, I was thinking I didn't want to hate you. It just seems like if we stay this way...”

“We'll die?” Izaya asks. Shizuo nods.

“I don't want to kill you, and I don't want you to kill me. I don't want to explain to your sisters that I murdered you.”

“So then, what do you propose?” Izaya asks.

“A truce? We can... I guess we don't have to be friends, but we could try not to kill each other. How's that?” Shizuo asks.

“That's fine. Whatever.” Izaya stretches, and then he pouts at Shizuo. “Now can you bring me a pear?”

“Brat,” Shizuo says, but he does just that.

They spend hours together. Izaya has a TV in his room for just this occasion, him getting injured and being bed-bound. Shizuo likes trash TV as it turns out, and Izaya delights in making fun of him for it. By the time Izaya's eyes are drooping, Shizuo is already hunched over, resting his head on Izaya's bed.

“You can stay. If you want.” Izaya wants to rest his hand on Shizuo's head, but he resists. “It's pretty late.”

“Yeah. I will, then,” Shizuo says, and Izaya expects Shizuo to either go down to the couch, or to the guest bedroom, but instead, Shizuo is climbing in bed next to Izaya and settling in.

“I hope your monster scent washes out with regular detergent,” Izaya mutters, hating the way his heart soars and then pounds in his ears at Shizuo's close proximity.

“Oh, fuck you,” Shizuo says, but he doesn't sound mad.

They're quiet for a while, and Izaya thinks maybe Shizuo has fallen asleep, but then Shizuo laughs softly in the darkness of the room.

“What is it?” Izaya asks.

“Just this. Us. If we tried to talk sooner, maybe we could've avoided a lot of things.”

“You wouldn't have listened. I wouldn't have listened either,” Izaya says.

“I know. It had to be this way.” Shizuo hums, and then he moves closer, tossing an arm over Izaya, who tenses up at the contact. “Is this okay?”

“Okay?”

“It doesn't hurt?”

“Oh. No, I mean, it's fine. This is fine.”

Shizuo laughs, moving closer. He inhales Izaya's hair, nuzzles into it.

“For a smart guy, you're an idiot, you know?”

“How so?” Izaya asks, bristling.

“You just are. You're easy to read.”

“I am not!”

“Mm.” Shizuo pulls Izaya closer, and Izaya wills himself to calm down or die, either would be fine at this point. “Tell me, why'd you save my brother?”

“Because I wanted to,” Izaya says, finding there is truth in that answer.

“Okay,” Shizuo murmurs. “That's good enough for me.”

Shizuo's lips press to Izaya's, and Izaya gasps softly, his hands on Shizuo's shoulders.

“I already know why, anyway,” Shizuo says, and Izaya pulls him into another kiss before they can argue.

#asks #murasaki19 #shizaya #izaya orihara #shizuo heiwajima #kasuka heiwajima #prompts #i hope you like it!!!!

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orihara-infobroker · 5 years ago

Text

Seclusion Day Eighteen

“Oh come on! That was so cheap!” Izaya protested as Akabayashi jostled him, using the distraction to execute a series of attacks in the game they were playing.

“Gotta learn to focus better,” Akabayashi responded, laughing as he scored a win. Izaya huffed and shifted further away from the redhead as the next round began.

“I was trying to be nice to the rookie but since you’ve decided to cheat…” Izaya pulled out his cheapest combos, forcing Akabayashi’s character into a corner.

“What the hell was that?” Akabayashi retorted indignantly. “That shouldn’t even be allowed!”

“What shouldn’t be allowed is playing video games when you should be working,” Shiki observed as he appeared in the doorway of his office with his coffee cup. “If you’re any louder, my neighbours are going to complain.” He made his way to the kitchen to refill his mug.

“If they haven’t complained about Izaya yet…” Akabayashi responded as he mashed the controller buttons, attempting to redeem himself in another round. Izaya prodded Akabayashi’s thigh with his foot.

“Your trash-talking needs work. How are you going to beat all the kids in online gaming if your worst insult is that I’m loud?”

“Is that what I was supposed to be doing?” Akabayashi responded with a grin. “If you really want insults…”

“How about you keep your insults to a minimum, along with the noise? I have work to do, even if you two don’t.”

“You say that but you’ve already done the daily call. You’re really not required to do anything else. It’s not like you’re on a clock.” Izaya threw his hands in the air as he won the third round. “Yeeeessss! Suck it, Mizuki!” Shiki moved behind Izaya and tugged his head back. Izaya grinned up at him and offered up the controller. “Take a turn.”

Akabayashi grinned. “Call it a coffee break.”

Shiki sighed and let Izaya go, pulling out his smokes as he joined them on the couch. “What else do you have?”

Izaya grinned and moved to the stack of games that had arrived that morning, along with the game system. “Borderlands? We can do co-op.”

“Sure.” Shiki lit his smoke and grabbed the controller as Izaya switched out the games. “Too bad it’s co-op only.”

Akabayashi snorted. “Should switch our team meetings to Overwatch matches.”

Izaya settled on the couch between them with a snicker. “So you can watch Aozaki fail to figure out how to play?”

“Yep,” Akabayashi replied.

“You do realize that Overwatch is team-based, right? So if he sucks, we all suck?”

“I’d take a loss to watch him fail.”

Shiki eyed Akabayashi with mild disdain. “Nice to see where your priorities are.”

“You know…” Izaya mused. “Japan doesn’t have any teams in the Overwatch League.”

“The what?” Akabayashi asked.

“Esports?” Izaya replied, rolling his eyes. “You keep saying you know what the kids are into and you don’t even follow esports?”

“And you do?”

“Of course not. Who wants to watch a bunch of Koreans play video games on TV? I don’t watch sports either, for the same reason. It’s boring. But I do know about it. It’s a fascinating shift in social dynamics.”

“Look what you did, Mizuki,” Shiki accused the redhead with a long-suffering look.

Izaya stuck his tongue out at Shiki before continuing. “Fundamentally, all of the sports we enjoy watching are rooted in skills that could be considered necessary. Physical strength, the ability to protect ourselves and murder our enemies or dexterity based skills that reflect the ability to hunt, as an example. What little tactical thinking there is tends to be relegated to the coaches or one or two members of a team and almost always revolve around battle. Video games provide an entirely mental arena and are heavily stigmatized as not being real sports even though they tend to have very similar rule structures.”

“They’re games, not sports,” Akabayashi commented. “Haruya stop stealing my shots… Have you played before?”

“Nope. I have good hand-eye coordination. Maybe if you had two eyes you could keep up.”

“Oooooo low blow!” Izaya exclaimed with a laugh. “But what is the difference between a game and a sport? Is it solely the physicality?”

“That is the definition,” Shiki replied.

Izaya wrinkled his nose at the answer then shrugged. “Well, yes, but pretty much everything else is the same. Yet society encourages only sports as valuable. The mental skills required in playing games is less valuable than the ability to throw a ball or tackle an opponent. I mean, look at the struggle in the yakuza. The old men who believe that brawn is the answer are clashing with the younger men who believe that intelligence is the future.”

“Different generations, different thinking,.” Akabayashi shrugged. “Haruya, stop camping. Why am I not surprised you picked a sniper?”

“Just like no one was surprised you chose the soldier?”

“Exactly. Esports is fascinating because it shows a change in what society values.”

“I don’t think it does,” Shiki countered with a slight smile. “I think that intelligence has always been valued, at least in our culture. Intelligence doesn’t lend itself to easily entertaining forms of showmanship, however. Sports is an easy to watch, easy to interpret show of physical prowess. Watching shogi, on the other hand, simply looks tedious to those who don’t understand the nuances of the game or lack the attention span. Watching people show off their quick-thinking and mastery of team-based tactics in a video game is far more interesting than watching two old men play shogi.”

Izaya paused to look at Shiki with a slight pout. “You just subverted my argument!”

“Was it an argument?” Shiki replied with a smirk.

“Tch. Your point is… valid.” He admitted reluctantly. “It’s still fascinating to see the shift in societal perception. Video games were considered a waste of time, something that only kids did, silly and pointless. Now they are being viewed in a different light. Being a ‘gamer’ is becoming normalized instead of embarrassing and nerdy. People can now become professionals at playing games, just like athletes.”

“How profitable is it, though?” Akabayashi asked. “I don’t imagine it’s that good a job.”

“The League pays $50k US annual salary. Plus the prize pool depending on how far they get.”

“$50k?” Akabayashi shook his head surprised. “That’s more than some salarymen are making. Haruya, you should consider changing careers.”

“Do I look like I would enjoy sitting in front of a computer playing games all day? Besides, I make more than $50k.”

“You know what would be an even better idea?” Izaya asked with a grin. “Awakusu sponsored Overwatch Team! I bet you could totally sell Mikiya on the idea. Yakuza sponsored esports. Just think of the team names you could come up with.”

Akabayashi and Shiki exchanged a look.

“The Tokyo Ninjas?” Akabayashi suggested.

“Tokyo Samurai,” Shiki countered.

“Predictable.” Izaya criticized.

“You’d probably name the team with a cat reference.” Akabayashi teased.

“Tokyo Neko?” Shiki snorted.

“Doesn’t really flow. You could just call them the Tokyo Yakuza. One of the teams is called the Outlaws, after all.”

“Ah yes, I’m sure that wouldn’t cause problems at all.” Shiki chuckled.

“It’s just a gaming team. No one will think anything of it.” Izaya insisted with a grin.

“He’s probably right,” Akabayashi agreed. “They’d just think it was a media thing.”

“Not only are you a wealth of information,” Shiki told Izaya. “But also a wealth of strange and terrible ideas. How much would that even cost?”

“Around $30 million.”

“Somehow I don’t think Awakusu has that kind of capital to invest.” Akabayashi laughed. “Maybe Medei could do it.”

“Too bad. Guess you’ll just have to stick to your life of crime.”

“I think we’re good with that,” Akabayashi replied with a laugh.

“Agreed,” Shiki seconded.

#fanfiction #durarara #akashikizaya #playing video games #instead of working #silly fluff #haven't done anything for this in a while #wanted to do my regulars #sorry!#my writing

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yandere-romanticaa · 6 years ago

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Could you write about how the yandere will react to his (s/o) being pregnant with them baby? Shoto, Izaya and other character of your choice. ps: I love your imagines

♡ Shoto Todoroki ♡

Ah, poor Shoto. When s/o breaks the news to him, he'll just freeze lol on the spot. He has no clue what to do. He can bearly take care of himself and his s/o, but having another mouth to feed? And to top it all off, Shoto thinks that he won't be a good father to his child. But after he thinks things through, he is actually going to be really happy to have a child. This is proof to the people around him (and himself) that he is not like his father, and that he will actually care and love this child. He is going to be gentle, patient, considerate to his child. He's honestly going to be a really great dad, and this baby is in good hands.

♡ Izaya Orihara ♡

Izaya is going to be pleased. Very pleased. Everything is going according to his plan. What better way to tie down his s/o to him then to get her pregnant? Ah, how cute this will be, seeing a mini version of himself and his s/o, just happily running around.

How adorable!

But he can't lie to himself, as cocky and proud he may be, the thought of becoming a father does scare him. He created a living human being, and he will take part in their growth. That's a lot to take in, but he is still excited though. From the beginning of the pregnancy and onwards, s/o is just flat out be forbidden from leaving the apartment unless Izaya gives her some sort of special permission. He just wants to be cautious, and he really is scared that something will happen to both his s/o and his baby...

♡ Thor Odinson ♡

Thor is going to be so proud!! His beloved Queen is now expecting a baby, his baby!! Could things get any better?! He will happily twirl his s/o around as he has this huge grin on his face. Soon, everybody is going to find about the pregnancy, Thor is just too impatient and happy not to share the news! The people of Asgard are also excited to meet their soon to be prince/princess, and Thor is just as excited. He is even more protective then he usually is, and he just wants this baby to be born healthy. He would love to feed his s/o all sorts of foods, sometimes to the point where they feel like they'll puke. But Thor will just say that s/o is eating for two now and it is very important to keep their strength up!

♡ Loki Laufeyson ♡

Loki will probably find out that s/o is pregnant before she herself actually notices. Loki pays attention to all of the little details, and Loki will do his best to make sure that his s/o is as comfortable as possible. He will tease the idea to his s/o that she is actually pregnant, and he will add more food to her plate saying that "she will need the strength". Very few people other then his brother and maybe some servants will know that his s/o is pregnant because Loki is afraid that s/o will get attacked. He doesn't want his enemies to find about his weakness, so his s/o shall remain completely hidden until further notice.

♡ Bucky Barnes ♡

Bucky is so, so nervous. He is a monster, he has killed so many people and ruined so many lives... And yet he was able to create something beautiful.

Something pure.

Bucky is extremely hesitant about having a baby at first. He just can't imagine holding something so tiny and fragile in his hands, let alone taking part in the baby's growth! But deep down, Bucky is really, really happy. His s/o gave him a new chance to turn his life around, and having a baby is just a lovely bonus. Bucky is going to be a incredibly supportive and sweet dad, and he will make sure that his child doesn't turn out like he did. There is a good chance that the kid will also be a yandere though. As for gender preferences, Bucky would die if he got a little girl!! She would be his sweet little princess, but his s/o is his beloved Queen!

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lightcreators · 5 years ago

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@animatedatrophy

Any idiot can see that I killed all the hope that I had. Mikado Ryugamine, since his first arrival into the beauty filled of hidden darkness of Ikebukuro, didn’t desired a world when everything would be mundane. Midako Ryugamine, since the very beginning, always aspired to be different --- to be important. Far away when the first blooming flowers in which he invited him to stay away of the man called Izaya Orihara because Izaya decided for a long time to play with a discovering truth. Far away where the times when he realized that the best friend he have been tried to protect all along these weeks, during the summer of their teenage years, was also a gang leader…one of the most significant, the most famous and the most uncontrollable of Ikebukuro district…as his best friend, Kida Masaomi didn’t care much about the reasons who pushed him to going into that side, to losing himself into the delicate gears of reality who would devour him later, of the responsibilities his shoulders would weight for the rest of his existence regardless how many time would pass…

Kida Masaomi have passed from the same perspective of naivety towards this gang embodiment. Mangas and movies treated it as a nice background for some protagonist that should shine into the hierarchy, giving reasons for level up into his physical strength and becoming a nature force eventually. It was perfectly planned that this protagonist would win despite the hardships, despite the pain it would bring to his existence and to his relatives. It was perfectly planned that death sensation would be touched barely meanwhile escaping it closer as the main character cannot be killed. It would be likewise perfect natural, as part of the scheme of things, that this background would look dramatically cool --- another world to explore in which darkness were pleasant. However, fiction wasn’t supposed to model exactly how raw the actual things would be. Fiction doesn’t tell you how a gang wasn’t a simple thing. Fiction doesn’t tell you how enemy threat’s breath would be stressful that the sensation of your life be in danger was laying behind you and following you like a shadow. Fiction doesn’t tell you how the possibility of ended dead was real, especially if you messed up with the wrong guy, especially if you were considered as weak, especially if they were a traitor along the members, especially if the mobs were taking an interest in you, especially if others gangs wanted their cake part and refused to let you bring some fragment on it…Kida Masaomi discovered this reality brutally under his fingers as the impression of coolness of be a leader faced his own soul.

❝ Mikado! ❞ It was a secretive pleading though his name pronunciation. A clear request to ask him to stop to say such things. It’s real, not some blessing fiction, what have you expected from the world? thoughts allowed themselves to be vocally brutal to his best friend. Golden eyes getting focused on the gaze on Mikado, keeping his features of not showing too much the amount of hurt he was feeling. There was no reason to pull further guilt down over his face. Did he messed up? Could have be managed to done something better? Could have be created something different? Could have proved he could win? He guessed such questions were tormenting his mind at the moment. Kida Masaomi was a leader fated to having some recognition meanwhile Midako Ryugamine would remain into the dark, unknown to a couple of specific people into his leadership…into a place when no one needed a boss, into a field when everyone was their own employer without rules. ❝ Be a gang leader isn’t something easy. It’s not a bright and always wonderful as mangas portray it. I know…I know how much you want to be something important, for yourself, in the eyes of others, how much you seek to something different that a high school student would aspire for…and you achieved it. You are already someone important, written into Ikebukero streets as a shadow though no one can saw you, no one could guess who you truly are behind the scenes and your natural daily life…it’s maybe not as you imagine it. There is none for applaud the efforts you did for everyone. There is none for recognize you as the good leader you have seek to become….and how shall this matter? You are already part of a world that returning into the usual one would impact you regardless, you already touched that mystical part you craved into your hands…you did your best. ❞

#animatedatrophy #ic :: kida masaomi #verse tbt.#( answered. )#me as a gangster movies fan: allow me to doom one point about drrr!!! ---

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rougesssatan · 5 years ago

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Hello, glad to see a new ask/headcanon blog. So this isn't exactly a headcanon ask but it's relating to your blog. But do you stick close to the orginal story or do you completely re-invent them? Also, do you have any random Ben Drowned headcanons? Do you believe him to be a human/spirit? Do you think he has a physical form? If no then does it affect him in anyway?

Hello! And sorry for answering your other question out of order. Also thanks for asking it really means a lot❤️ and ya I try to stick as close to canon as possible but I do alter the characters/stories to some degree cause I’m biased lol. And ya I love thinking about the mechanics for BEN’s form!

- I believe BEN is a through and through spirit, but a very powerful one due to the violent conditions he died in

-he’s mostly intagible, you could walk through him and he can’t be seen unless he wants to be.

-he allows himself to be seen most of the time unless he is haunting someone then obviously not

-I believe he can become tangible if he wants given his strength as a spirit however he has to expend effort to do this, the time and density at which he exists determines how much energy he has to use.

- I would guess staying completely solid for say 24 hrs would leave him very tired and unable to do very much, when he’s like this I always imagined he would retreat to his original cartridge, this is what his soul is attached to so it’s what essentially “recharges” him

-if he doesn’t willingly go back into his cartridge he will be summoned back and will remain there whether he wants to or not for as long as it takes to regain his energy

Also here’s some random headcanons if you’d like

-I assumed physically he’s remained the same, a 12 year old boy who resembles Link with black eyes and red irises, I guessed he’s around 5’3”-5’5” in height

-his voice is slightly distorted, nothing that impairs his speech or is even incredibly noticeable but just enough to be disconcerting and unnatural

-his personality is interesting ( it’s a dumb reference but if you saw the anime durarara think of izaya orihara)

-he’s mischievous, intelligent, unempathetic, cunning, sadistic, witty and very charismatic with the innate ability to start and maintain a conversation very easily but despite all of that in life or death he’s isn’t an extrovert preferring to be alone in most situations

-he has no romantic or sexual interests he derives joy from making others experience the pain he went through he doesn’t have time or care for others in an intamite way

-he wouldn’t even have friends if it weren’t for the fact the ppl around him, the cps, are very interesting and entertaining, i.e. Jeff

-finally, he and Jeff aren’t really friends, if one died or never came back neither would bat an eye, really they just enjoy the intrigue and odd situations the other brings. The two entertain one another and that’s all they really care about

Coolio I hope you liked these hc’s and if I didn’t answer something specific please feel free too ask!

#ben drowned #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta

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yandereshit · 6 years ago

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Izaya x Reader: salad. [Durarara]

So! A story I wrote in 2k15 and translated to english... well, today. The translation may be a bit weird since I’m not used to doing these, but... well, yes. Here we go lololol have fun with this weird ass shit.

Evening ritual always looked the same. The very moment the night fell upon the city – which happened quite late during summer – you showered and, wearing your cute pink pajamas, you took out the cucumber-meat salad from the fridge and pouring its small amount into a special, porcelain bowl and putting a spoon inside as well, using the lack of interest from your parents’ side, you quietly left the flat, wearing your plushy flip-flops to stay warm and quiet at once.

Luckily, no neighbor has seen you in this weird state. This time your hair was still wet, which made you even more willing to stay unnoticed. You went up the six-floor building and opened the roof’s door. According to the ritual, you’ll sit at the edge of the roof and, staring at the bright, night city, eat the heavenly gift as known as your mommy’s salad.

The door creaked when you stepped outside. The wind started to move chaotically, unwittingly drying your hair. You shook your head, trying to move the strands aside to clear your sight, because the wind hit you from behind, covering your face with the mess of hair. And when you finally managed to do so… well.

“Huh? You’re not Magenta-san.”

Eeeeh...?

You looked up and stared at the silhouette standing a few meters away and staring back at you with concern on his face.

Magenta, Magenta, Magenta... Um…

“It’s shade of pink…?” you guessed, reminding yourself of the hours spent in Ikea on choosing the right color for the curtains.

The silhouette blinked, a bit disoriented. He scanned over your body and put his hands in the pockets of his jacket, tilting his head to the side with a smile and apparently waiting for what YOU were about to do.

“I… u-um...” you stuttered, because the man was standing in your way to your favorite spot on the roof. “I wanted to eat only...” you muttered and, with your face red from embarrassment (wind, why are you not covering my face NOW?!) you circled around the person and sat with crossed legs at the edge of the roof, about to start your meal.

There was a silence. You took a bit of the salad on the spoon, stared at it and sighed deeply, trying to suppress the will to look around at the stranger. You probably should ask him what he’s doing here. But right now, you definitely preferred to take care of the salad and assume… that you’ll keep ignoring him till he goes away. The taste of your favorite meal was so tempting that you really wanted to believe it’ll just work.

One way or another, you lived here since forever. Officially, no one was allowed to enter the roof. And this stranger definitely wasn’t a neighbor since you’ve never seen him before.

You pressed your lips together, putting the spoon in the bowl and carefully taking the phone out from your pocket. You raised it to your eyes’ level to use the reflection to see the other person behind you.

But as it seemed, the person disappeared from your sight. You shrugged, putting your phone aside and finally deciding to take care of the salad.

“You have a cute dog” you heard suddenly right behind yourself and jumped (quite comically, considering you were sitting), letting go of the spoon and miraculously not losing the bowl as well. The spoon screamed drastically and a few seconds later, landed as a bloody stain on the pavement dozens of meters lower. Or maybe you just imagined that. Either way, you lost it.

“Oh dang it” you muttered, standing up and turning around, only to notice that SOMEONE barely a meter further stared at the screen of a phone. You glanced at the spot next to yourself. And yes, it was YOUR phone. You had the photo of your dog on your lock screen.

Automatically, you reached in the thief’s direction, he though, not even looking up, spun around, whirling away from your grasp. It forced you to use more strength and as a result, you lost your balance. And before you managed to stop, both you and the salad’s bowl flied in the floor’s direction.

However, unlike you, the bowl never met the ground. But a few moments later you realized in terror that the stranger has two hostages now. And – by the way – that the roof is quite dirty and you’ll have to take a shower again.

“Give back my salad!” you yelled in annoyance. Well, priorities differ. The stranger snorted and moved away a bit more, extending the hand with the phone in your direction. You hesitantly took it and put in the pocket, but it was obviously not enough. You wanted your salad!

In the meanwhile, the man moved aside and started eating the salad with his fingers.

You screamed in despair, feeling the anger boil inside of you. No one. Is. Allowed. To. Touch. Your. Salad.

You raised your fist in attempt to hit the man’s face. At that moment, the food lost its value. The revenge was what you craved for. It was a fight for honor.

Unfortunately, the man dodged. You tried to hit him a few more times, then kick, you generally tried everything you could. And he – barely amused – without hurry dodged all your attacks, making sure that nothing would happen to the salad and (if that was not enough) he even found time to keep eating it. At least he was aware what kind of treasure he’s holding!

Eventually, you let out a weird, frustrated growl and grasped his jacket with both hands, putting all your strength in not letting go. But he didn’t even try to break free.

“And what now?” he asked with a childish smile on his face, watching every single feature of your silhouette. Ah well. Your hands were busy. The first thing you thought of was kicking him, but he quickly made you unable to do so, standing on your toes. Your flip flops had no chance in comparison to normal shoes so an attempt to break free turned futile.

You pressed your lips together, thinking of literally ANY possibility to rub that annoying smile off his face. And finally, when the man probably thought you’re about to give up… you pulled him to yourself and with all the strength left, bit into his neck

He screamed, letting go of the bowl which shattered on the ground.

"O-oi, it hurts! ヘ（。□°）ヘ", he whimpered, trying to push you off himself. But it made him only hurt more, because you bit into him like some tick. He closed his eyes tightly, focusing on bearing the pain.

Suddenly, you felt a weird, metallic taste. Not fitting to the bitter taste of his cologne you were feeling for the few seconds till now. You pulled your teeth out of his neck, staring in disbelief at the slightly bleeding wound on your victim’s neck.

“Finally...” the “victim” muttered, flopping onto the ground.

“Um...” you whimpered, covering your mouth with your hand. You licked over your lips, and then… “Oh my God! I will catch something!” you yelled, spatting out as much of your saliva as you could. You started to cough in despair.

The man glared at you, carefully touching the wound. The skin in that place was weirdly jelly in touch. He stared at you for some time, clearly not willing to interrupt.

You in the meanwhile, hardly got yourself together and finally stared at him angrily.

“Youuu...”

“You’re not done yet?!” he asked in panic, covering his neck with hands.

“Look at what you’ve done!” you yelled, pointing the shattered bowl and your dead salad around it. “You killed it!”

“You bit me!” he noticed, standing up and brushing the dust off his trausers.

“I-it was in self-defense!” you announced. “And because you stole it from me! You’re the guilty one!

He sighed, rolling his eyes, which for some reason pissed you off even more. You gathered the rest of your despair and you were about to throw yourself at him once again… when something glistened in front of your eyes and stopped by your neck, informing you that any attempt to move will end tragically. Your heart stopped for a short second and you held your breath, as if fearing that any uncontrolled movement can cause something you pretty much didn’t want to happen. You felt a slight pressure and backed away in panic, tripping and landing back on the ground.

“Maybe I should return the favor, vamp?” he suggested enthusiastically (which seemed, in your opinion, pretty creepy), tilting his head so that you could see the wound on his neck. And it looked pretty ugly. The scar would probably stay there for a few weeks or even months...

He stared at you for a few moments, analyzing the emotions appearing on your face. Shock, then confusion, still lasting anger mixed with fear for your life. The man you just really painfully bit stood in front of you with a blade pointing at your throat, ready to end your life with a short movement. Every blow of the wind made you feel as if he’s already done so.

Not a comfortable situation.

You stared at him as well. He looked like some creepypasta sociopath. Actually, he looked like one from the very beginning. His dark eyes moved slowly along your silhouette, analyzing every single piece of your body. He seemed to seep through you with his stare, yet his face stayed firm. His arrogant smirk distracted you.

Suddenly, he put the knife in the pocket of his jacket and stepped back, not looking away from your face.

He chuckled.

“There, you don’t have to be scared… that much. I’m glad I could see that many of your emotions in such a short amount of time. They were really entertaining.” He laughed and turned around, moving away as if he couldn’t care less about what you were about to do. “And now excuse me, there’s one more person I need to play with today.”

You let out an annoyed grumble and got up, eventually ignoring him and going to the building’s door. Then finally it got to you, how late, cold and windy it became in the meanwhile.

“Ah, one more thing” the man added suddenly, just before you closed the door behind yourself. “Next time, I’d like to also see you laugh.”

As if on call, you laughed.

Hysterically.

You shut the door behind yourself and went back to your flat. You entered the kitchen, took out the whole pot of the salad and, reaching for a new spoon, decided to take all the accumulated anger out on your digestive system.

#durarara #izaya #izaya orihara #durarara izaya #izaya x reader #izaya orihara x reader #xreader #fanfiction #reader #mc #x reader #durarara x reader #drrr #durarara fanfiction #durarara ff #drrr ff

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