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autumnmobile12 · 2 months ago

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Ambush Sim: Touya and Hawks’ Relationship

I don’t want to call it complicated; how I write them is they’re both relatively straightforward with each other, but there is a distinct divide in how Hawks views Endeavor the hero vs how Touya views Enji his father. That's not a part of their dynamic they can ignore, so this is the only way I can write this ship with any sense that it's a healthy one:

Hawks doesn’t know the full story and is also aware he can’t just pry it out of Touya, but he can tell with the father-son interactions that something is wrong and he has the understanding that whatever is causing Touya’s animosity is probably warranted. (He has heard the rumors other Pros share about Endeavor, has uneasily discounted them for lack of evidence and the fact none of the family members ever came forward, and has since come to the conclusion this stance may be naïvely optimistic.) The same is true of Touya knowing Hawks has a reason to admire the hero but not knowing exactly what that reason is. He has three main reasons for keeping silent about what his father did:

It is rooted in the years he’s already spent keeping silent in order to avoid the fallout should their family’s story go public.

It is also a matter of compassion. He is not vindictive enough in this AU to completely ruin Hawks’ perception of his childhood hero, and this also a stance he took with his piano students. True, there is the debate on whether or not it is honorable or even healthy to withhold that kind of information, especially when the likely response to finding that out is, ‘Wow, I wish you’d told me sooner.’ But this is the razor line everyone in this family walks in regards to their patriarch.

He's made this compromise with his sister; he figures he can do it with his partner.

So the result is Touya and Hawks have an unspoken and very temporary compromise of shelving the Endeavor issue.

They both know this is eventually going to be a discussion that can’t be avoided.

...

One thing I've noticed while writing, though, is their relationship very closely resembles these two:

And I'm pretty sure that's subconscious, but it's the personalities that match up for me.

Shinra is a more comedic character, but he's the character type you don't know to take seriously until they do something extreme and worth your undivided attention. Shinra will be joking and laughing with Celty in one scene, the next he'll be threatening a guy with a scalpel.

In the same manner, Hawks is similar. Trickster/goofball one moment, legitimately threatening the next.

Celty is also a bit of a silly character when you get down to it. In spite of being a serious and levelheaded fairy creature who's calling is to retrieve the souls of the dead and dying...she's clumsy, she misplaces things, she gets flustered, she's afraid of aliens to the point cheesy 80s sci-fi horror films scare her, and she's a terrible liar. What makes her comparable to Touya, however, is the theme of chasing something seemingly unattainable. Celty is a headless horsewoman whose head was stolen from her and she lost centuries of memories with it.

She could survive without her head, but she couldn't live without it.

And then there's Touya chasing after his father's recognition, surviving without it, and slowly learning to live without it in the Ambush Sim AU.

So in spite of the toxic elements of their relationship (and there are a few,) the way Shinra and Celty come together and balance out the bad with the good where it otherwise shouldn't happen...is adorable in all the wrong and right ways.

These two in the Ambush Sim AU are very slow-burn.

Hawks makes the slow-burn a writing requirement because of the demisexual headcanon I gave him. Putting it in the simplest terms, demisexuality is primarily needing an emotional connection first and foremost, and then there’s Touya who’s determined to keep everything emotional locked down due to past trauma. So the thought process is, 'That's a major incompatibility hurdle. Is that even gonna work?'

It's definitely one of the more challenging ship dynamics I've worked with, but after playing with the Trepha ship in the Castlevania fandom for the past couple years, I think I've got a good grasp of how to do it without it coming off as unnatural or toxic. In any case, it is an interesting ship to explore and I hope to do more with it in this AU because Touya and Hawks are very much black cat and golden retriever energy and I love that.

...

“So did you want me to cook or are you good with airport food?”

“Are you kidding me,” Hawks laughed as he followed him. “With how I was eating in America, I feel like I should fast for a week. So many carbs.”

“I hear they have a good cultural variety.”

“Oh yeah, my first day there, I had barbeque pirozhki for lunch. I don’t quite know what that is, but it was delicious.”

“I’ll find you a recipe then.”

“Really?” He beamed at his turned back. “You’re the best, you know that?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Touya pulled out his phone. “How do you spell that?

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thevanillerose · 5 months ago

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CHECKMATE | YANDERE!IZAYA x READER | DURARARA!!

~ WRITING COMMISSIONS ~ ~ PATREON ~ ~ KO-FI ~

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own anything except my own writing. All properties belong to their respective creators.

A/N: I accidentally deleted this one while updating/reblogging some old fics and now I'm big sad T^T So uh...here it is again I guess!

Izaya observed his face as it was reflected in the glinting, purely glimmering metal. What he saw gazing back at him was a visage that many called ‘beautiful’. He was well known for his charcoal hair and stormy brown eyes, a slender physique and a smirk to go with it.

He felt it barely compared though. It hardly held any weight when pitted against what was sitting on the opposite side of this chess board from him.

“Haha…I don’t know how many times I’m going to have to tell you before you finally get it.”

With a deft twirl, he finally pointed the weapon in your direction.

You weren’t looking your best. Hours of crying and writhing around in these rough ropes had left you ragged. Your eyes were rimmed with red, lips still quivering from pent-up sobs that hadn’t been released yet. You choked out a couple when he aimed for you, shutting those same eyes tight, and lowering your head. Hair already tousled by your frantic struggles, you obscured your own vision with it anyway.

“…Now that’s no good. How are you supposed to play my little game if you can’t even see it?”

Izaya rose up from his seat, reveling in how you seemed to tremble more and more the closer he came to you. His pale hand reached out and slipped under some of those matted strands, pushing them back away from your forehead and revealing the beauty he had come to know and love so much.

“That’s better. Now-” Izaya took your chin in his hand and jerked it up, at the same time forcing you to open your eyes again. They tearfully stared ahead at the board, the pieces all arranged haphazardly in some manner that only someone like him could truly understand. It was like he had tipped out the dregs of a Monopoly box, you spied kings and queens, Othello and Shogi orphans intermingled with them.

“See that there? That’s you.” he continued cupping your chin and cheek in one hand, leaning over from behind your seat and pressing his very fingertip to the top of a little pawn. “You’re so…small…and weak…”

His nails pinched the top and he let the piece roll into his hand.

“Caught in my palm, with nowhere to go. So if I wanted to…I could just…”

Izaya didn’t vocally finish his sentence, choosing instead to show you practically and clench his digits into a fist around the pawn. You could almost feel your heart twisting as he did so. Eventually he let it drop and clatter to the board, and fresh tears fell as you watched it roll limply to a stop, lying there as if it were truly useless to anyone.

“Understand?”

You jolted suddenly and inhaled sharply, as his voice abruptly spoke right by your ear. Frantically you nodded, and that dark chuckle only made its comeback.

“Hehehe…excellent. Then you’re probably aware of the stakes here. But…you’re not the only pawn being played…”

Watching him as he moved again to the other side, you felt as if the binds that had you wrapped up in this darkened room- wherever it was- had only gotten tighter.

“All your friends, all your family, everyone you’ve ever cared about, they’re aaallll here, and you get to decide what happens to them.” he leaned over the chessboard and tilted his head curiously. Here came the dreaded question.

“So, what will it be? Either way, I’m going to untie you in exactly 1 minute. You can give in to me like I want you to, and accept that you’re never going to see any of these people again. At the very least, they’ll live if you choose that. But if you want to be stubborn and try to fight back against me then you can do that too.”

His head lowered a little, gaze darkening and focusing right in on you like a couple of rusted bullets.

“You can try at least, but I think you and I both know how things will end up.”

True. You did know.

They’d end up in a roadside ditch at best, and at worst…probably chained and at his command for eternity.

“But I know what you’re thinking-” Izaya suddenly started mocking your typical tone of voice, softening his own for it, “-'It’s better to die trying to save the ones I love, than to live as a prisoner’, right? Well…there’s this funny thing in chess called 'capturing’. Though I suppose I’m using the term loosely…as if you do decide to say no to me, and I do decide to go through with other means…then I’m not going to be 'capturing’ any of your precious loved ones like I’ve done with you. No no…”

His soft lips split apart into a sharp grin that only seemed to mirror his blade, all in white. His eyes never left you as his fingers curled and flicked out against each and every piece that was laid there. He sent them flying and clattering to different points in the room, all the while accompanying his actions with more cruel talk.

“I don’t care about any of them.”

Click!

“I only care about you…”

Clack!

“They mean nothing to me…”

SLAM!

His hand, down upon the table and smashing the game board in two. He stared at you from two inches away, his body already crawling halfway onto that surface just so he could come so closely. You gazed back, utterly frightened, into those cold eyes of his.

“[Y/N]…I’ll kill anyone and everyone that I have to, until I get what I want.” his scalding breath exhaled upon your lips with every callous word, “I’ll admit it…you’ve tried to see the good in me before, but that was your mistake. You made it easier. But in the end, you can still win. Just surrender to me, and I won’t have any reason to hurt the ones you care about. They won’t matter anymore, because neither of us will ever have to see them again.”

Kida. Ryuu. Shizuo.

Shizuo.

Izaya raised the last piece he hadn’t yet knocked down. He dangled it temptingly before both you and himself, king at his command.

“He’s the one who’s making you so indecisive, isn’t he? But what’s worse, [Y/N]? Breaking his heart by abandoning him for me?” Izaya smirked again, before his lips came to hover by your ear.

“Or letting me break him in his entirety?”

Your mouth only parted wider as you watched him practically crumble the chess piece into dust, cracking and breaking it apart in his remarkably solid grip. The veins on his hand were prominent, there was an unbridled rage there that he was barely holding back. A passion he had never known before meeting you.

“N-no…!” you gasped out, and he simply smiled in a soft and eerie fashion, pulling back again and dusting his hands off.

“So.” he glanced at his black watch, then back at you again, “Decision time.”

“W-wait! W—ait I—I’m not ready yet I–!!”

No waiting. It was go time, and Izaya signaled that clearly by slicing the ropes off you and hauling you up by your collar. He held you just like that, continuing to toy with his knife in the other hand. You stumbled closer to him unwillingly, and he just tugged you even tighter against his body.

The fur from his jacket tickled your skin. You could only really see his eyes as they looked at you expectantly, awaiting your answer without even asking for it. Izaya felt he had made it clear enough already. Lose everything you cared about, and possibly your own life? Or simply choose to love him as much as he undoubtedly loved you…

The only one. You were the only one he felt this way about. It was remarkable really, to think that he had spent so much time observing and studying humans, and yet this facet of their…well…humanity, had eluded him for so long. He wasn’t the type who’d have much trouble getting a date, and he’d even spent time pretending to be a girl online before. It wasn’t like he didn’t understand the concept either.

But…to truly love another. To be willing to do so much for one person.

That really was a first.

His hand only gripped you tighter as the silenced dragged on. Why were you just gaping at him like that? Fuck, you looked like you were about to burst into tears again, and he didn’t know if he could be bothered with another half hour just waiting for you to calm down. If you forced his hand then you forced his hand, but things would be so much simpler if you just said…

“Y-yes.”

Izaya blinked once, before his smile grew again, teeth relaxing from their grinding posture concealed by those lips of his. Of course you said 'yes’. Someone who deserved to be with him would never act like such a fool.

“That’s what I thought. Well played, [Y/N]…”

His teeth emerged a little only to bite down on his bottom lip. Now that he had the go ahead he could finally do what he had been waiting to do for so long. He tugged it harshly then let it pop back again, just in time for pressing the pair right against yours. His kiss was thrust upon you in an instant, his hands cupping your cheeks firmly and holding your head in place.

You weren’t going anywhere now. You’d never leave him, never leave his sight. The thought of how well this had all worked out just made him groan and thrust his tongue harder against yours, entangling the two and taking complete control. As if he hadn’t possessed it already regardless…

Yes, this was perfection. The best way that things could have panned out.

Plus…Izaya didn’t technically make any promises, nor sign any deals. There was no contract, no fancy slip of paper that said he couldn’t bash Shizuo’s fucking brains in if he was feeling like it. These were all his rules, and you were playing by them whether you liked it or not.

As he pulled back from the kiss, his arms wrapped around your middle and squeezed you like a snake. His chin rested on your shoulder, the corners of his lips tugging smugly, before you heard something being whispered, just under his breath.

A single, simple word.

“Checkmate.”

Like my writing? I can write for you! Check out my WRITING COMMISSIONS!

#yandere #writing #xreader #romance #writingcommissions #yanderexreader #horror #readerinsert #writing commissions #fanfic #izaya x reader #durarara #orihara izaya #yandere izaya #vanilleworks #vanillerose #vanille

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thecryingmanonthemoon · 11 months ago

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So I’m rewatching Durarara because I’m currently working on a Shizaya fic and some of the shit Izaya says has me writing down proof that this dude is gay as fuck. Even if nothing is explicitly said in cannon, he is 100% queer coded. If anyone wants to see my receipts, I’m writing them down in my notes app as I keep watching the series 😂

#shizaya #durarara #anime and manga #lgbtq #fanfic #fanfiction #archive of our own

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gemini-twinz · 7 months ago

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Izaya's hookup pranks

(Kink+feels, sex denial, Shizaya (at the end)) Uh uhhhh I've never posted one of these musings before because they make me feel embarrassed ;w; But I wanted to try posting one and fighting my fear. Sorry if it's OOC at all, I wrote it mostly for me. Here goes nothing! __________🚹💖_____________ Izaya will inevitably have pursuers who don't know the real him. People he has charmed without even trying. Maybe a stranger on the street is captivated by his beauty and has the confidence to ask him out. Maybe an irregular client sees him at their appointment and is immediately drawn to him. It's not hard for someone to become interested in his beauty or his façades (He has many different kinds) And if he's not already busy, he'll immediately accept the offer, grinning knowingly with narrowed eyes at their excitement at being accepted so easily. Izaya will make sure that date is ideal. It's a chance to observe one of his beloved humans up close in all their quirks and habits not even they know they have. But to them, he is just such an attentive listener. Maybe they can even begin to fall for him like this. When they whisper to him they'd like to take him to a hotel, he matches their energy as he accepts. It's all part of the game.

When they both hurriedly enter the hotel room together, he'll waste no time whispering close to their ear what he knows they want to hear. (He was analyzing them the entire time during their date.) Exactly what makes their breath hitch, and their eyes roll closed. And once they're good and drunk on his words, or try to kiss or touch him, he'll simply back away from them completely, and with a face dripping with mischief he'll say "Well, you have fun with that" (give or take a speech of some sort) and leave them to pathetically jack off alone to the idea of sex with him..

He knows anyone who wants him at first will eventually hate him. Oh, but they'll selfishly want his body, won't they? Better to deny them that as well, get to them first. What's the point of letting them have the satisfaction of sex with him if they're just going to want nothing to do with him when they inevitably realize he is rotten inside, as everyone else in his life has realized? A human can not have Izaya Orihara, because Izaya Orihara can never truly have a human. Not forever, and so not at all. The non-intimacy of loving all humans is much safer. Only a monster like Shizu-chan can touch him, because Shizu-chan sees through his every mask, down to the rot he really is, and still wants him. Even if it's to kill him, it doesn't matter. Shizuo Heiwajima wants Izaya Orihara despite everything he is, BECAUSE of everything he is. So Shizuo can beat Izaya until he's blue, or ruin his body until he's in tears, and every last moment of it will feel deserved.

#durarara #drrr #shizaya #izaya #izaya orihara #fanfic #character study

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ficresc · 9 months ago

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He's probably running his hands through his hair; it's one of his nervous tics. He plays with his hair when he's anxious and Izaya had at one point found that endearing. Shizuo bounces his legs when nervous, bites his lip when worried, pinches the bridge of his nose when stressed. Most of all, he paces when he's uneasy. Izaya can see him doing all four of those.

til the war's won by izayas

#Fanfiction quotes #Durarara #Shizaya #Izaya #Orihara Izaya #Izaya Orihara #Shizuo #Heiwajima Shizuo #Shizuo Heiwajima #DRRR #Fanfics #Fanfiction #fic recs #fanfiction recommendation #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #archive of our own #f:til the war's won #a:izayas

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sk1pp5y · 6 months ago

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yes i'm writing a post for once... and yes i'm spilling my thoughts on this fic idea i got literally today:

izaya drugs, and kidnaps, shizuo to take him on a road trip across arizona. why arizona? because that's what i call self sabotage!!

so, they're on this road trip. in this busted ass car from a shady nearby rental place, and they're driving all the way around with izaya behind the wheel. (this will depend on how good of an idea this is when i figure out if izaya can legally drive in canon or not. but i might take headcannons into my own hands folks…)

and what does shizuo think about ALL of this?

that he thinks he's already dead and this is his personal purgatory /j

#durarara #shizaya #shizuo heiwajima #shizuo #izaya orihara #drrr izaya #drrr #drrr shizuo #fanfic #fic ideas #ramblings

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animekpopsimp · 2 years ago

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Shizuo and Izaya having a crush on you

You met Shizuo first

The two of you lived near each other and became friends despite his aggressive attitude

You're friendship continued into high school, which is where you met Izaya

He took an interest in you, which Shizuo didn't like

Though you still became friends with the black-haired boy, much to Shizuo's displeasure

They both remain civil for your sake, but when you're not looking they send each other hateful glares

When the three of you finish high school, Iazya moves away, so you don't see him as often

Despite that, he still makes an effort to see you, even If Shizuo does his best to stop him

Shizuo often visits you in his free time as well, partly so he can keep Izaya away from you

After school was when the two of them became completely hostile toward each other

Izaya always tries to convince you that Shizuo is a dangerous monster who could hurt you someday

Meanwhile, Shizuo warns you that Izaya is manipulative and doesn't care about you

The two of them are basically at war, to get you to stay away from the other

Both Shizuo and Izaya know they have romantic feelings for you, and that only makes it worse

They try not to get you involved with their conflicts, but sometimes you do see them fighting

It's upsetting but you still care for both of them

Despite them trying their hardest to make you only pay attention to them, they still haven't told you how they felt

Though if Shizuo sees him planning to do so, he'll do what he can to stop him

Izaya does the same, and it never ends well

Overall, they both are very competitive when it comes to you

#anime #anime fanfic #anime fanfiction #anime x reader #anime headcanons #anime x reader headcanons #durarara #durarara fanfic #durarara fanfiction #durarara x reader #durarara headcanons #durarara x reader headcanons #shizuo #shizuo x reader #izaya #izaya x reader #x reader #x reader headcanons

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rhythymicwriting · 6 months ago

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A Voice Like Summer Thunder - Shizaya

I'm considering making this a full length fic. For now, here's the initial drabble. It starts with a recap of Durararax2 ep 12.

“Hey… Who the hell is this?” His voice was low as he spoke into the phone, eyes flicking to the side as if to see the caller. He hadn’t saved the number, so it couldn’t have been a client, but the man spoke about Izaya’s dealings with the Awakusu. More specifically, the man knew he told Akane Awakusu that Shizuo Heiwajima was going to kill her father. Who else would know he’d set Akane on Shizuo?

Namie?

Nakura?

No, he knew their voices. Izaya had a bad feeling about this.

The caller laughed. “There’s no need for you to know my name just yet. But as a token of our new friendship, let me offer you an opinion. Or rather,” He corrected. “A warning. You’re a bit too good looking, Izaya.”

“What?” He stopped in his tracks. What the hell did that mean? This wasn’t some stalker creep, was it? Dealing with his breed of clientele put him at risk for that sort of thing and he knew it, but they weren’t usually this forward. Izaya couldn’t help being a little bit intrigued by the mystery call, however unsettling it may be.

“It makes you stand out in a crowd,” The caller explained. “So in your case, blending in isn’t really an ideal way for you to hide. Besides, you’re looking kind of stressed.” Izaya tensed. Hold on, that voice on the phone…

It was coming from behind him.

“I think a nap would do you a world of good.” A shoulder slammed into his own, the man using his momentum to drive something sharp through Izaya’s jacket. Cold metal burst through his warm skin, searing pain running through his torso. His breath caught, a strangled grunt the only sound he could make as the man walked through him, knocking Izaya off balance.

He stumbled, watching the caller walk ahead of him. It was only for a moment, though, before motion on his own shirt caught his eye. A dark stain formed on the cloth, sticking it against Izaya’s skin. As he watched the stain grow, he realized he still hadn’t regained his balance.

He was tipping.

The phone clattered from his hand, call still active, as Izaya dropped to his knees. His arms were too slow to catch him and he fell the rest of the way to the ground, coarse asphalt scraping his cheek.

“Oh and since you asked,” The man’s words were intelligible, but it was a struggle, pain deadening Izaya’s brain. He fought to focus on the call, ignoring the sound of murmurs and his own pained groans. “My name is Jinnai Yodogiri and I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Damn,” He cursed. Izaya wriggled, trying to pull himself toward the phone, his fingers brushing the plastic case, but every motion caused agonizing fireworks to blossom in his side, their fiery tendrils snaking through his nervous system.

“Gotta… Get a hold of… Namie.” He groaned. Man, it was hard to breathe. The ground was slick beneath him, the usual grip of asphalt lost to the ruby pool. Countless city lights reflected off the surface, falling flat against his clothing where the liquid seeped.

Izaya’s sight was blurred, the phone a glowing smear against the dull pavement. His fingers, finally reaching, fumbled the device, muscle memory guiding him more than his own will. It was lucky he’d even opened his contacts.

“Hello?” You’re kidding. Even dazed with pain, he recognized that voice. Izaya stayed quiet. “Is someone there?”

The line was quiet for a moment more. Shit. If he kept waiting like this, Izaya might actually bleed out. How humiliating would that be. The great Izaya of Shinjuku, bleeding to death on an Ikebukuro crosswalk. Would it be worse than asking this monster for help?

For a vital, life saving second, Izaya decided it was.

“I’m…I need help.”

A tongue clicked on the other end. “What? Why’re you botherin me?”

“Please,” The word felt like bile in his mouth. Apparently, pride really does evaporate when you’re stabbed. “I’m…bleeding.” He groaned again. His breath was shallow, blood bubbling from the wound with every inhale, pain rocketing through his abdomen.

The phone stayed quiet. The world grew darker and brighter, all at once. Izaya’s vision tunneled at the edges, a dizzying vignette softening the city, but pin prick stars burned his retinas. The sound of the crowd around him buried his thoughts, a muddled knot running through his head instead of their usual ordered lines.

“Well? Answer me, damn it!” The coarse sound stuck out of the noise, drawing his attention back to the blurry screen. He drew the screen toward his face, whatever word that may have been written there moved from too-far-away blurry to too-close blurry.

“What?” His voice drawled, pulling like molasses from his chest, words heavy on his tongue.

“Shit.” The voice grumbled, angry at repeating its question. “Where are you?”

“Um.” Izaya’s eyes flicked around lazily, but there was little for them to pick up, their lids too heavy to lift. “Ikebukuro.”

The voice rose in volume. “That doesn’t hel-”

Another voice murmured something, the phone sliding gently from Izaya’s hand. He was aware of the pull at his shoulders, lifting him only high enough to slide across the ground, but he was distracted by the pain shooting through his middle.

Izaya felt himself lain on his side against cooler pavement, a softer muttering playing above his head, sticking out from the crowd, but no more coherent. City lights flared, excruciating pain igniting in his abdomen. A woman leaned over him, her arms arrow straight as she pressed on his wound. Izaya coughed. He heard what might have been ‘sorry.’ His phone was on speaker, balanced on his leg. She’d taken over the call. Her hands stayed steady, shoved against his side, the burning pain fading behind a cozy cloud of exhaustion.

The gentle, steady buzz of what he guessed was a phone call lulled him into a foggy dusk, bright, burning lights fizzling out.

When fuzzy white light burned orange through his eyelids, Izaya assumed he was waking up in a hospital. Antiseptic smell, thin sheets, hard mattress, yes, this had to be a hospital. He breathed deep, flinching when his stretch pulled at a raw wound. Nerves flared from his hip to his sternum. “Ugh.” He rolled onto his side, pushing himself up. “Being stabbed blows.”

“Huh?” Rich colored wood greeted him as he opened his eyes. He still smelled antiseptic, paper thin sheets were still draped over his legs, but he realized this wasn’t a hospital. Fuzzy light shone through bamboo blinds. A generic yellow ceiling light hung above his head, pale in comparison to the harsh outside gleam.

Izaya lay on a makeshift bed in some high end apartment in a makeshift operating room. Realizing this, he knew who was walking through the door before the man was all the way through. Clad in a knee length lab coat despite having no real medical degree and carrying a clear box overflowing with white fabrics was his best friend of eleven years. “Doctor Kishitani, thanks for the hospitality.” He grinned, a teasing glimmer in his eyes.

“Oh!” The man looked up, brown hair twitching as he stopped. “Celty, he’s awake!” He hollered. Izaya fought the urge to cover his ears. “You shouldn’t be sitting up yet, Izaya. You’ll reopen your wound.”

“Ugh.” He groaned, letting his hair puff around his face as he dropped back down. Pain exploded up his back when he did. As fun as the dramatics were, that fuckin hurt.

Shinra moved to his side, taking his sweet time uncovering him and lifting his shirt. “You know, after all these years, I don’t remember the last time I treated you.” He said, slowly peeling the adhesive bandage off Izaya’s stomach, letting the tape pull the skin. He was doing that on purpose. Izaya’s mood was quickly souring.

“I do.” Izaya thought reminiscing might distract him from the steady pulling at his hairs, and keep him from throttling this back alley doctor. “It was middle school, wasn’t it? That crazy kid with the gambling addiction.” Izaya hissed, a new burning, true burning, erupting in his side, running from his skin through his kidney and the entire surrounding area. His eyes snapped to Shinra in a fury.

The doctor stood over him with a frown, a bottle of rubbing alcohol in his hand, a bloody swab pinched in the other. “You’re talking about when I got stabbed, Izaya.”

“Oh was that it?” If he could feel anything other than agony right now, he would have laughed. “Bummer. Ah fuck!”

Shinra had shoved another alcohol soaked swab in his wound.

“How’d I get here anyway? Shouldn’t I be in a hospital?” Izaya asked. Shinra’s response was slow, hesitant. There was that bad feeling again.

“Shizuo brought you.”

Izaya’s eyes widened, irritation and confusion bubbling behind them. “What?”

“He didn’t look happy about it either,” Shinra chuckled under his breath.

The growl to his voice surprised him, Izaya’s words emanating from his chest. “Why?”

Shinra’s head tilted, eyebrows drawn. “He said you called him.”

“What a lousy liar.” Izaya groaned.

“I need help.” Coarse concrete cooled his cheek as he listened to the low voice in his phone. That familiar voice, every word like a threat he didn’t mean, poured from the speaker, asking questions he hadn’t processed.

“Where are you?”

Izaya didn’t remember. “Ikebukuro.”

“That doesn’t help-”

A woman had taken the phone.

“Shit.” Izaya’s breath carried the word without his permission. He had called him. Izaya was stabbed, nearly bled out on the street, and had called Shizuo fucking Heiwajima for help.

And the bastard actually showed up.

“You should give him a call. At least let him know you’re alive.”

He groaned. “Why would he care?”

“Izaya,” Shinra stopped his work, hands freezing with fresh bandages. He gave the other a look like a disappointed father, one that said he was one crucial second of self control away from smacking him upside the head. “He carried you all the way here from East Ikebukuro. There was more blood on his shirt than in your body. Call him.”

Shinra held out a small device, the surface lighting up with the movement. Izaya sighed as he took the phone, making quick work of dialing the number.

“Hello?” Low, gravely, but polite, that voice irked him every time. Its owner clearly hadn’t saved his number. Izaya would bet a lot of money he didn’t know how.

“Hey, Shinra wanted me to let you know I survived.” Shinra shot him a dirty look. God, this felt like being a kid at the park again, his mom making him apologize to a kid he pushed off a swing. He almost felt like laughing.

The voice changed immediately, sharp, short, ill-tempered. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Heya, Shizu.”

The line stayed quiet. Usually he’d hang up by now.

“Look, I uh…” Even the thought of what he was trying to say made Izaya’s stomach curdle, his pride slowing his tongue. “Thank you.”

“Oh? What was that?” A smile crept into his voice, lifting at the sharpness in his words.

“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” Izaya groaned. “Thank you for taking me to Shinra’s.”

“You’re welcome.” Good humor made Shizuo chattier than usual, the man no longer debating hanging up and now digging for the story. “How’d you get stabbed anyway?”

Izaya, on the other hand, wanted this conversation over with. “Long story, bad people. Bye bye, Shizu-chan.” He moved swiftly, pulling the phone away from his ear, thumb hovering over the bright red button.

“Hold on,” Izaya did. The phone traveled back to his ear, albeit held further away. Not that Shizuo was hard to hear. “You, uh… You okay?”

Izaya’s eyebrow twitched. He wasn’t asking about the wound, was he? “Whatever could you mean?”

Shizuo cleared his throat. “You’re not in some shit again, are you?”

“Aw,” Izaya drawled. “Are you worried about me?”

“Forget I asked.” The phone beeped softly, ringing through the space. The line was dead, Shizuo’s contact info staring back at him instead of the interface.

“See? That wasn’t so hard.” Shinra gathered his materials, already making his way out. “Lay down and don’t move. I don’t want you hurting yourself again.”

“But Doc, what if I need the bathroom.” Izaya’s characteristic smirk snaking its way onto his face.

Shinra flicked hair out of his face, his expression flat, but voice teasing. “I’ll give you a catheter.”

Izaya was a little worried he was serious.

“You’re not in some shit again, are you?”

“Aw, are you worried about me?”

“Forget I asked.”

The problem was, Izaya couldn’t forget he’d asked. In fact, the moment replayed in his head over and over again, his brain picking apart and reassembling it, like looking for secrets in a video.

“You’re not in some shit again, are you?”

He could almost see the man, stopped on the sidewalk, his coworker walking a few strides ahead before wondering why he’d stopped. Tall despite the slouch in his shoulders, black-brown roots exposed by wind that tossed fried blond hair, head tilted into his phone, eyes angled as if making eye contact with the phone might get an honest answer.

He could picture his face contort, where real concern might have been written, irritation blossomed.

“Forget I asked”

And he’d move on without a second thought.

But why had he asked that? Why did he care? Izaya had been nothing but an obstacle to him since they met. He’d liked it that way. Izaya hated Shizuo and Shizuo hated him back, so what did he care that he was mixed up with the wrong crowd?

Why did he show up that night?

Izaya was reminded time and time again why he hated that monster. While he found fun in watching humanity, there was a part of him that relished the predictability of it all. The struggle, the fear, the anger, it was all a game, but it was a game with rules.

He knew that if he talked to a girl on the internet in some forum and encouraged her emotions, he could control her, he could guide her into his game. Any person he messed with, he had some amount of control, some amount of influence.

But Shizuo was a raging storm, a natural force he couldn’t sway. No matter what he did, Shizuo always colored outside the lines. He was an outlier.

And yet, his voice kept playing in Izaya’s head. Over and over again, he asked the same question, that unexpected concern like a broken record.

It was getting on his nerves.

Izaya pushed himself upright, taking in the makeshift operating room. Shinra had told him not to move, but there was only so long he was going to stare at that damn ceiling. He wriggled to the side of the bed, ignoring the pulling at his wound. The wooden floor was cold under his feet as he slid off the edge. A weight tugged on his arm, drawing his attention back to the bed.

“Oh, that’s right.” He muttered. Thin tubing ran from a rack in the corner to the crook of his elbow, clear saline flowing through the plastic. Shinra had replaced the bag during the phone call, but it was almost empty, most of the liquid in Izaya’s bloodstream. A tiny valve created a dam about eight inches from the drip bag. Turning it stopped the flow into Izaya’s arm, a small amount of the liquid remaining in the tube. He drew in a quick breath as his hand drifted up his arm, fingers daintily grasping the tubing.

He exhaled and ripped the needle from his arm. Izaya let the tubing clatter quietly against the rack as he rifled through a nearby first aid kit. Most of the bandages here were too big. He opted instead to tape a cotton ball over the spot.

The door cracked open silently as Izaya stuck his head into the hallway. Seeing it was empty, he tread softly into the open. The living room was empty too, with the exception of Celty’s helmet, indicating that the headless woman was somewhere in the apartment, but running water in another room meant she wasn’t going to catch him any time soon.

His shoes were placed neatly by the door, but his characteristic jacket was nowhere to be seen. “Shit…” Izaya murmured. He would be fine without the jacket, but his knife was in the stash pocket.

There weren’t any closets near the door that it might have been hidden in, if Shinra had even meant to hide it from him. If he had, his shoes likely wouldn’t be here either. He turned, moving back to the operating room, and stopped in his tracks.

Light shone around the edges of a knee length lab coat, Shinra blocking his way back into the apartment. “What are you doing out of bed?”

“Bathroom.” Izaya shrugged. He swore he could see a vein pulse in the doctor’s forehead. Standing in the entryway with his shoes on the other side of the apartment from a bathroom probably didn’t help his lie.

“Izaya, where are you going?”

“I just needed to clear my head. Will you allow me that?”

“You’re looking for your jacket, right?”

“I was, yeah. Don’t want to get chilly.”

Shinra sighed. Heavy fabric collided with Izaya, fur tickling his nose. It was his jacket, lacking its usual weight. His knife wasn’t in it. He sighed, slipping the sleeves over his bare arms. His t-shirt was light, picked to layer under his jacket so he wouldn’t overheat, but it left him pretty cold without the coat. Not that he cared.

“Look, Izaya.” Shinra put his hands in his pockets. “You’re still in critical condition. I’m not gonna stop you, but be careful, okay?”

“Yeah yeah,” Izaya waved a hand, slipping into the hall.

The streetlights were their usual comfortable glow, pale in comparison to that burning star spot from the night before. His eyes were vigilant, flicking amongst the crowd. It was subconscious and it annoyed him.

These were his people, his family, his playthings, and yet his own mind was betraying him, keeping him vigilant on his own playing field. Unbelievable. One kitten shows its claws and he can’t will himself to relax.

The crowd moved like water around him, people perfectly spaced for him to pass between them. The city buzz heightened his senses, but it helped to focus his thoughts, honing them on the crowd instead of the noise in his skull.

A girl was talking on the phone nearby, likely to a partner or a close friend. Her voice was too high, too tight, upset but trying to fight it. What he wouldn’t give to hear that phone call.

A man passed too close beside him, distracted by the woman to his right. He was talking about drinks. Maybe coworkers? She didn’t look comfortable. It’d be fun to follow them a couple blocks.

The crowd had parted wider, working around Izaya instead of letting him through. His brows furrowed. That wasn’t right. He wasn’t that well known, was he? “You’re a bit too good looking, Izaya. It makes you stand out in a crowd.”

He felt himself slowing down, his limbs heavy, thoughts fast. The voices around him were whispers, too quiet to pull him out of his head. Their eyes were nervous, shifting, focused on him. No.

Something behind him.

Izaya went ridgid, breath picking up as if he was already running, but his legs wouldn’t move. It felt as if lead were tied around his ankles, cotton in his knees.

He hadn’t felt fear like this since high school. That’s what this feeling was. He’d almost forgotten it. This was fear.

“Besides,”

He could feel the presence behind him now.

“You’re looking kinda stressed.”

There was a hand on his shoulder.

“I think a nap…”

“Hey, what are you doing out here?”

“...Would do you a world of good.”

Izaya took off running. Pedestrians stumbled out of his way, his coat flailing behind him as he tore through the waters. This would be a good time to have his knife. Damn it, Shinra.

“Hey, what the hell?” Part of his brain knew that voice was wrong, it didn’t match, the other part of his brain didn’t care. It was animal fear. Survival. He didn’t care who was chasing him.

He was not getting caught.

The footsteps behind him were loud, steady, like a heartbeat. They were gaining on him. Fuck. Izaya let his weight fall on his right foot, nearly falling into the mouth of the alley. Eleven years of running for his life had paid off in this respect, movements that would slow others down were a flick of the wrist. He dashed down the alley, foot hooking on a dumpster, hands gripping a balcony rail, working in harmony to propel him upward. In mere moments, Izaya had scaled the side of a low rise apartment, taking his flight along the roof.

A heavy impact landed not far behind him, his pursuer following him to the rooftop. This guy wasn’t normal, but in his panic, Izaya didn’t care. His abdomen was screaming. If he didn’t lose this guy fast, he might actually pass out up here.

He leapt over a gap, the rooftops close enough together. At least they looked that way. His foot missed the other side, the toe of his boot catching the edge and slipping out from under him. Shit, this was a far fall. He bucked forward, catching himself on his stomach.

Izaya coughed, spit flying from his mouth. Pain exploded from his side, rocketing through his entire torso, stretching from his collar to his thigh. He couldn’t get a hold. He was scrabbling for a grip, managing to hold himself despite the struggle.

Another heavy impact almost shook him loose, the rooftop jostling beneath him. A hand caught his wrist.

“Shit, no!” The words fled his lips before he thought them. He was drawn onto the rooftop, firmly, but without aggression. He thrashed in their grip, kicking out, hoping to hit anything.

“Dammit!” His foot connected. The man didn’t budge. “Would you stop that? I’ll drop you!” The growl was familiar.

His eyes caught polished shoes, the roof beneath them cracked and fractaled. The ghost of a cigarette hung in the air, clinging to the man but no longer with him.

Shizuo pulled Izaya from the edge, setting his feet down on the rooftop. There was fury in his eyes, but he wasn’t acting on it, instead backing away.

“Why did you run like that?” He was avoiding eye contact, but it ended quickly when he realized Izaya’s only answer was staggered breathing. “Crap, sit down, would ya?”

Shizuo strode forward, grabbing Izaya by the shoulders, leading him to the access shed and sitting him down on the ground. Izaya moved easily, his brain too busy frantically looking for escape.

“Hey, hey!” Shizuo snapped in front of his eyes, drawing their focus to himself. “Good, breathe.”

Izaya did. He drew in his breath slowly, frustrated by its trembling. If he’d been thinking clearly, he would have exhaled in the man’s face, but his lungs didn’t want to release the air, shaking harder as he breathed out.

“Jeez,” Shizuo ran a hand through his hair. “You really are an idiot.” He pulled a yellow flip phone from his pocket, a clumsy device for a clumsy brute. If he could laugh, Izaya would have. Shizuo stood up, stepping back from Izaya’s ragdoll form. “Hey, I’ve found Izaya. He- yeah. Okay. Yeah, be there in a few.”

He hung up, sliding the phone back into his pocket. His steps were lighter as they came back. He kneeled gently in front of the man, head tilted to see under Izaya’s matted hair. “Are you okay? What was all that about?”

Izaya fought for a smile, forcing his walls back up. The idea of letting this monster see him like this was driving him insane. “You caring about me now?” His breath caught again.

“Aw, are you worried about me?”

Shizuo didn’t react, the taunting either bouncing off him or going over his head. “How’s your back?”

“Ouch-y.”

His brow twitched. “Ouch-y?”

“Yeah, ouch-y.” He tried to grin.

“Why did you run?”

Izaya shifted, his hand on his stomach. “Anyone would run if you were behind them.” He pretended to shudder, ignoring the screaming pain from his wound.

“Izaya,” The sincerity in his voice was alarming, a gentle rumble like summer thunder. “I’m serious, what’s wrong?”

He frowned. “I…”

“Woah, hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me,” Shizuo was suddenly flustered, pulsing open palms, as if trying to soothe him. “Just don’t cry, okay?”

“What?” Venom seeped into Izaya’s voice. Cry? He thought he’d cry in front of this monster? What a dick.

Izaya flinched, a ripple of movement across his flushed cheeks. A bug? What bad timing. He moved to swat it away, wincing at the shooting pain through his side. His hand came away from his cheek damp.

You’re kidding. Saline ran from his eyes against his will, a mixture of pain, relief, and embarrassment. This was ridiculous. First, he calls him for help, now he cries in front of this neanderthal? Whatever happened to his pride?

A coarse hand grazed his cheek, the cracked skin of his knuckles scraping against his face. “It’s okay, alright? You’re okay.” His eyes widened, an overwhelming feeling washing over him, one like drowning, like suffocating.

Izaya acted before he could think. He was doing that a lot lately. Soft, warm fabric enveloped his face, the scent of cigarettes filling his sinuses, miraculously soothing his trembling breath. With his face on his chest, Izaya could hear the man’s breath catch, quiet surprise emanating from his lips.

If he’d been thinking clearly, this would have made him vomit. But as it stood, the feeling of Shizuo’s arms hesitantly closing around his back, the subtle cigarette smell, the beat of his heart, the sound of his breath, it felt safe.

Summer thunder rumbled again, timid, unsure. Hesitant fingers lifted off his back, sticking ever so slightly as they peeled off the fabric. “Hey… You’re bleeding.”

Izaya considered lifting his head, but it was suddenly heavier than he thought it was. If he had, he might have seen the red staining Shizuo’s hands, the pallor of his cheeks, or even the frightening smear he’d left against the wall behind him. But in his exhaustion, he melted further into cigarette scented cotton and let the rest of the world fade out.

#writing #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #wattpad #oneshot #writers on tumblr #durarara #shizuoheiwajima #izayaorihara #shizaya #drrr #Heavily abused flashbacks #Izaya's a little ooc but whatever

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