#durarara fanfiction

[animekpopsimp]

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

[i-love-izaya-orihara]

So this is actually the same story I've already posted about a year ago. The plot is the same (as much as there is an actual plot..) but I rewrote it in a way. I just like it more now.

So, yeah. You can check it out if you want. Or not. It really depends on you.

As if we don't all read over and over again about the same a**holes falling in love though.. 😑

[hollisartsblog]

durarara in 2024? unbelievable

[autumnmobile12]

My Hero Academia AU: Sleeping Habits

A short comic for Ambush Simulation.

Summer Camp with UA and the Wild, Wild Pussycats.

This one’s a parody since this is a scene from Durarara x2!! and therefore this part will not be appearing in the Ambush Simulation fic.  It’s still funny to think about, so here's a little bonus while I work on the next chapter.

I don’t know if there’s a market in the simping community for post-shower hair Spinner, but if there is…you’re welcome?

I have no explanation for why Compress would wear the mask while asleep. (The original was a dude wearing a gas mask because he was worried about polluted air.)  Maybe he knows Dabi sleeps like a maniac and, on realizing he got the futon next to his, opted to wear some facial protection to avoid getting slapped in the face by the oblivious little shit.

Also, the headcanon that Dabi talks in his sleep...sure, why not?

...

Dabi:  Why are you wearing that mask?

Compress:  Nothing to be concerned about.

[shibaleeart]

Read that CANON side story where a succubus tried to seduce Shizuo by turning into Izaya

[rukazaya]

Title: Blood Contract

Pairings: Priest Shizuo x Vampire Izaya

Rated: R

Summary:  Halloween Special! AU Story of Vampire Izaya and Priest/Vampire Hunter Shizuo! In which Shizuo accidentally makes a blood contract, binding the vampire to him as his servant. But Izaya refuses to be tamed that easily.

Archive of our own: Ch 38 Fanfiction.net: Ch 38

I'm in shock I updated my own chapter after 4 years. But yes, here's your chapter 38. Thanks to @eromkk who persistently poked me until I updated. That was impressive lol

Huge thanks to my Beta, @izaya-is-life, @curapicas and Badromance. I love you guys. And to those who I haven't seen in 4 years, hello I'm back with a chapter. Thank you for your kind support <3 To those who's never read my fanfic, thank you for checking it out (psst. read my tags before you proceed... i don't want to scar anyone lol) Thanks guys again.

[happyandticklish]

The Sweetest Revenge

Notes: A Christmas gift for @tickles-tea that has very little, and by that I mean nothing at all, to do with Christmas. A little bit non-con-y, just a heads up in advance. A touch of Shizaya toward the end, but other than that, this is primarily Izaya-focused. Meant to be x-reader-ish, if you want, though it can also be read otherwise. I hope you enjoy your holiday dose of torturing Izaya~

Summary: Izaya finds himself kidnapped by an unknown assailant who has a rather unorthodox method of dishing out revenge.

He opened his eyes to darkness, blinding and unending in its depths. He blinked again, unsure if he was merely disorientated, and it was then that he felt the cloth of the blindfold. Not an ideal situation to wake up in, but not the worst he’d encountered.

There was a crick in his back and he shifted to relieve it, only to come to the uncomfortable realization that he couldn’t move. At all. Izaya grunted, straining his muscles to pull his arms down, and once more they stuck firmly above his head. A quick test proved his legs to be the same.

“Well, isn’t this interesting,” he murmured, brows drawing down in vague irritation.

He leaned his head back and tried to search his memory for any indication of how he ended up here. The simplest option was to compile a list of all the people who might have a bone to pick with him, but Izaya had been collecting quite the collection throughout the years; narrowing it down would be impossible. Last night danced at the edges of his mind, and he tried to grasp onto any flying detail that might clue him in on what had happened.

He remembered a smile, along with a bar, and hands, perfectly elegant as each gesture promised the truth of their words. If only he could remember their owner.

Goosebumps prickled over his skin as a breeze wafted through the room, and his fingers twitched, longing to reach down to rub the area. The position was unfamiliarly vulnerable, a thought he tried to push to the back of his mind. He had been in scrapes like this before; the trick was to talk fast, too fast for them to think about what they were revealing.

There was a click in the distance and he froze, tilting his head up to try to hear better. A doorknob, probably. Which meant at the very least he was in a room. The click was followed by soft footfalls, and a voice, smooth and with a cadence that was frustratingly familiar.

“Sleep well?”

“What is this?” Izaya offered instead, a question for a question. He circled his wrists, gesturing to his splayed out form. “I assume you want something, so why don’t we cut straight to the chase?”

“You really don’t remember?”

“I really can’t be bothered to keep track of every person that comes in and out of my life, nor do I want to. I love your kind as a whole, but I’m afraid the individuals tend to be quite boring.” He grinned, a casual thing that held carefully cloaked danger behind it. “If you’re looking for an apology for something I’ve done, you’re wasting your time.”

“Not an apology.” The footfalls started up again, her volume increasing as she presumably closed in on him. He hated the way his ears strained to follow her; this lack of sight was really starting to become a nuisance. “I’m sure you don’t remember, but you broke a certain promise you made us a while ago. A promise that has cost us quite a bit of money.”

Noting the plural us, Izaya raised a brow, tilting his head towards the source of the mysterious voice. “Well, that sounds like a poor investment on your part, doesn’t it? A quick background check could have shown you that was a bad idea.”

He flinched as a finger trailed down the side of his arm, zagging in lazy circles like they were attempting to draw. It was annoying and his nerves prickled in discomfort, but he barely had time to focus on it before she continued talking.

“A promise is a promise, info broker, and we intend to make you face the consequences of breaking it. There’d be no point in taking the money back, as the pitiful funds you earn doing this kind of business is hardly enough to make up for our loss. So we turned to different options. Options that would teach you not to take us so lightly. We are no fools, Mr. Orihara.”

At some point in its journey, the finger had become a nail and Izaya squirmed almost imperceptibly as it made its unbearably slow descent down his arm. It was becoming far less itchy and far more something else. His stomach clenched in a chilling realization.

“But simple torture seemed too basic for the amazing Izaya Orihara. Your reputation called for something more impactful.”

The nail paused right above his armpit and Izaya realized that he had stopped breathing a while ago. He exhaled slowly, hating the way the breath stuttered a little. He longed for his sight, longed to be able to see his approaching torment. Maybe if he could have traced it, it wouldn’t have been so bad.

“I’m sure by now you’ve caught on.”

The finger remained still. So, horrendously still. “This is a child’s game.”

“That’s the beauty of it, isn’t it? That something so simple can be so devastating all at once.”

The finger twitched slightly and Izaya’s nerves raced with trembling anticipation. He could practically feel it already, and the urge to slam his arm down in protection was growing greater by the second. He managed to keep his face neutral, but it was impossible not to notice the way he inched back into the soft cushion of the chair.

“You might as well give it up now,” Izaya said brazenly with a confidence he didn’t feel. “Tickling is hardly what I’d consider a valued torture method. It’s entirely reliant on your victim even possessing that particular sensitivity that you’d need to pull off. I might be immune to it.”

“Are you?”

The damned finger swirled over the soft, vulnerable skin right before his armpit and Izaya made a solemn promise to himself to snap that finger off of the connecting bone as soon as he got out of this. He forced his earlier smirk into a frown for fear that it might turn into something else. “Only as much as any other human being. It’s not exactly something I’d consider debilitating.”

“Well then, I guess you won’t have a problem enduring this, will you?”

The finger was still circling and it was quickly turning into an annoying itch. Izaya longed to scratch it and that longing unnerved him.

In truth, Izaya couldn’t actually remember whether he was ticklish or not. It made sense that he would be, on a purely physiological level, but he had never considered the implications of it before. The last time he could remember anyone attempting was with Shinra back in middle school, and those times had all been brief and quickly ended before either of them could gain any substantial data on his sensitivity. Since then there had been moments, brief dalliances where kisses had grown too light and left him shivering uneasily. Nothing too intense, though. Nothing that would ever make him worried.

He entertained the idea for a moment, unwillingly. Being trapped like this. Being ticklish. Being tickled, at that, for seemingly hours or days on end as whoever his tormenters were didn’t seem to have an end goal in mind. He had survived torture before, but, if the unease flooding through him at the simple scratching was any indication, he did not want to be stuck like this for too long.

“And just how long do you intend to keep up this act?” He arched a brow, steeling his voice into something more even. “I may not have friends coming for me, but I have too many people relying on me to simply go missing. Of all the people to kidnap, I’m afraid you’ve chosen the wrong one. It would be better to give it up now and save yourself the suffering that will come your way if the yakuza come looking for me.”

“Relax,” the voice cooed, a soothing gesture that dug under his skin. “We’re not keeping you in here forever. Only a day. Maybe two, if the point isn’t sticking by then. No one’s going to lose sleep over a day of lost contact with their precious little info broker.”

“A day?” Izaya scoffed. “How much damage do you possibly expect to do in that time?”

“I think you’ll find, Mr. Orihara—” the finger descended at last, nail tracing lazily under his arm— “that there is quite a fucking lot that we can do to you within that time.”

Whatever witty quip Izaya might have shot back at that died on his tongue as the itch from before suddenly became very intolerable. He squirmed back on the seat in a subtle attempt to try to raise himself up and away from the source of his irritation, but to no luck. He hadn’t realized quite how tightly he was restrained until this moment. Straps curled snugly around his biceps and thighs, accentuating the ones at his wrists and ankles. A quick wriggle of his hips proved that there was another around his waist as well. He could hardly move half an inch without a great force of will.

His breathing quickened, just slightly.

“What is it exactly that you want?” he asked quickly, closing his eyes behind the blindfold in an attempt to block out the sensation. Maybe he could bargain his way out of this—he had done it before, after all. “An apology? Information? I guarantee you that there’s someone out there you hate more than me. I am not opposed to helping with that, if you simply—"

“Quiet, I’m trying to concentrate.”

Izaya snapped his mouth shut, bristling at the nonchalant command—like he was some ignorant child. He tried again, this time, with a bit more anger seeping into his words.

“If this is all you intend to do, you’re wasting your time. Let me go and maybe we can—mmph!”

What he assumed to be a hand was slapped over his mouth, muffling the rest of his protest. Embarrassment and annoyance coiled in his stomach like a viper and he twisted his head, trying to dislodge her grip. When that failed, he stuck out his tongue, dragging it along her fingers—childish, maybe, but perhaps enough to startle her.

She didn’t even dignify it with a response. He was just considering biting her palm when a second, then a third, then all five fingers were dragging under his arms and he suddenly had a much larger problem.

It tickled. He hadn’t been sure earlier that that’s what it was, but he could say for absolute certain now that this tickled. A lot. Intolerably so. Laughter ballooned in his throat and he choked it back down with a struggle. He couldn’t laugh. Not only because it would be undignified, but because he was angry and frustrated and a million other emotions that were nowhere close to amused, so laughter was out of the question.

It was stupid. He shouldn’t want to laugh right now. He shouldn’t feel light and bubbly and he certainly shouldn’t feel giddy.

“Having a bit of trouble there?” The teasing wasn’t helping either. Everything about this was so damn patronizing and he couldn’t do a thing about it. “Tickles, doesn’t it? I will admit, I wasn’t sure that you were ticklish when I first enacted this plan, but I am happy to be proven wrong. I know this spot is absolutely horrendous for most—do you agree?”

Izaya let out a muffled sound that might have been a curse or a wheeze. His arms trembled, desperately wanting to dart down in protection. As much as he was suffering, he couldn’t help but admire this particular form of torture. For as much time as he spent observing human beings, tickling had never been a phenomenon that he’d paid much mind to. He had never been able to wrap his head around it, that something that made you giggle like a child could be agonizing if enacted correctly.

Now, he was starting to understand. Izaya was good at enduring pain—he had to be, to keep the kind of company he did. This tickling was weirdly difficult to resist, however. Each rush of stimulation sent panic alarms going off on his brain, demanding that he free himself as quickly as possible. He gritted his teeth, forcing short, even breaths in an attempt to jumpstart his body into a state of calm.

“You know, I’m glad that you’re holding out.” The sudden intrusion of her voice almost broke his concentration—almost. “I can’t say that I wouldn’t be disappointed if you broke so soon. My associates argued I should cut right to the chase and overwhelm you with sensation, but I prefer this slow weakening of resistance. It’ll make it all the more satisfying when you finally beg for me to stop, even more so when I refuse.”

Cheap threats. No one is so devout in their goals that they can’t be swayed if you pull the right triggers. There had to be something she desired, more than him, and Izaya was determined to find it out. In the meantime, he just needed to hold out long enough to get her talking. Make her reveal herself all on her own.

Which meant, he would have to give up the tough act just enough to bear through this. Anyone with any kind of sense knew that exerting all your strength through resistance in the beginning only tired you out later on. He had to be ready to be in this for the long haul.

Slowly, he willed his muscles to untense just slightly, a stupid grin flickering over his face as the sensations increased. He allowed the laughter in his throat a brief escape, a few, huffed giggles slipping into her hand.

It’s okay, it just tickles—nothing to get so worked up over.

Then, he bit her hand. She cursed, instinctively pulling it away just long enough for Izaya to get a sentence out. “You said you’re after money, right? I can ma—hah—ake you some. I h-have connections.”

“Are your ribs ticklish, do you think?” Ignoring him—smart on her part, unfortunate on his. The question itself made him tense. He wished more than anything that he knew the answer to it. “It would really be a shame if they were. Can you imagine having to endure that when they’re so exposed? Stretched taut, no shirt, no wiggle room—practically unbearable if you think about it.”

Shut up. He almost hissed it at her, but he bit back the words at the last minute. Thus far, she hadn’t re-covered his mouth yet and he didn’t want to provoke her back into it. Her voice needled under his skin like a parasite.

Instead, he forced his grin into a smirk, trying to ignore her nails settling against his ribs, trying to ignore how his skin had jumped treacherously under her touch. “There must be something. Revenge may seem sweet now, but how sweet will it be when you’re on the other side of it? I may not be able to see your face, but your voice is all I need when I get out of this. Which I will, and when I do, you’ll wish that the only retribution you’ll receive will be a bit of tickling. So just—god, fuhuhuck!”

His negotiations were abruptly cut off as her nails set into action, skittering light and quick against his ribs which were, evidently, fairly fucking ticklish. He cursed, throwing his head back as the laughter started streaming out of him at last. Whatever device they had him strapped into arched his torso, leaving his ribs stretched out and vulnerable. His nerves sparked urgently, and he jerked on his arms once more to no avail.

“Having trouble? I thought you said this wasn’t a ‘valued torture method’.”

Izaya opened his mouth to protest, but she had located a devilish spot behind his ribs that quickly robbed him of speech in favor of a fit of giggles. Giggles. He made a mental note to be embarrassed about this later when he had time to focus on anything but how much this tickled and how much it wasn’t going away.

“Nothing to say?”

“Fuhuhuhuck y-yohou!”

“Oh, quite the mouth. What’s the matter? Finally got under your skin?” There was a soft hum, and the next words were spoken next to Izaya’s ear. He flinched at the warm breath, hating how it sent shivers running down his spine. “I wonder how long it’ll be before you break—before you’re offering up anything and everything for even an ounce of mercy. We’ve been watching you for a while now. Studying your movements. That stubborn streak of yours is quite impressive. I’m going to enjoy breaking it.”

Before he had time to think about the implications of those last few sentences, the tickling subsided all at once, leaving him cackling over nothing for a moment. The hands pulled away as footsteps echoed across the floor. “I will agree though, I haven’t truly made you suffer yet—there’s something missing. You have a nasty habit of running your little mouth off even when it would behoove you to keep it shut. Without it, you wouldn’t be in this situation right now. So, I figured, why not take care of it for you?”

Izaya had just barely finished catching his breath, but his eyes narrowed at her words. He opened his mouth most likely to say something inadvisable in the moment only to have it filled with cloth as a gag was tied around his head. He muffled out a protest, jerking his head around to try to deter her, but it was no use.

“There we go. That’s much better, don’t you agree? Now I can finally have some peace and quiet while I explore the rest of your body. Let’s see… the upper torso appears to be quite sensitive. I wonder…”

Izaya jumped as fingernails began to dance treacherously around his neck, a gentle, slow torture that made him scrunch and let out muffled giggles into his gag. Shudder after shudder coursed down his spine as goosebumps spread down his chest. This was one of the few places that he knew he was ticklish due to unfortunate incidents with past lovers. Not the worst spot and certainly better than when her fingers were under his arms, but far more embarrassing due to the horrendous gasps and squeaks it was forcing out of him. There was something oddly intimate about the area, and he flushed red as she curled nails behind his ears to a flurry of high-pitched giggles.

“I almost wish I could remove the blindfold just to see the expression on your face. I’m sure you’re going positively mad right about now.” A hand stroked his cheek and Izaya jerked away. “Aw, poor baby. It’ll be over soon, don’t worry. Or, well—soon enough.”

The tickling at his neck continued for what felt like one minute too many. He was surprised he didn’t have whiplash from jerking his neck around in wild but ineffective protection. He kept expecting his body to grow used to the sensation as would make sense, but if anything, things seemed to be growing hypersensitive over time. By the time she pulled away, the lightest touch would have been enough to set him off.

He barely had time to feel any relief, however, before his legs were assaulted by a series of quick squeezes starting from his knees and climbing higher until they ended at the crease right before his hips. Izaya yelped indignantly, lurching forward in his bonds. He almost, almost, begged right then and there, and the plea sat ready on his lips as the squeezes began again. Not that it would have mattered much with the gag. But the lack of resistance disquieted him. He had been in much worse scrapes than this before, but the sheer helplessness of this situation was driving him into desperation faster than it would have otherwise.

“Oh, hoh! Now that works! Ticklish legs, informant?” The squeezes had transformed into light scribbles and that was worse, that was so much worse. “You really should have held out a little longer and I might have moved onto something else. But now? I think this would be a nice way to pass the next several hours.”

Izaya groaned, his face tensing in a grin as her touch traveled to his inner thighs. His mind raced with potential solutions, possible savors, even enemies who might be looking to steal him away for some other brand of torture that at the very least wouldn’t allow him to let out so many embarrassing noises. It was hard to think with featherlight touches at his thighs stealing away all his brain power.

Perhaps the worst part of all of this, worse than how helpless he felt or the knowledge that he might be stuck here for the long haul, was that a small, tiny, miniscule part of him was enjoying this. Sure, he would have preferred another person in her position, different context at least, but he had to admit that he couldn’t really remember the last time he had been touched in a non-murderous manner. And as much as this particular brand of touch was driving him crazy, it was soft and gentle and imbued with so much intentionality. She was not content to merely tickle him. She was examining him, taking in his reactions and studying them in order to bring him to the greatest level of torment. He had this woman’s attention, however briefly, entirely on him.

He hated how good that felt.

So, even as he giggled and shrieked and let out all manner of profanity and half-hearted negotiations behind his gag, in the safety of his own mind he made a silent, embarrassed plea for it to go on just a little longer.

Unbeknownst to both Izaya or the woman, however, stood another form—a man. He stood behind a column at the back of the warehouse, hidden in the darkness. Shizuo had been spending a perfectly pleasant evening with Tom getting hammered at some bar downtown when he had noticed Izaya disappearing off into the crowd with some stranger. Curiosity had gotten the better of him, and so he had trailed the van once they knocked out Izaya and brought him to this place. He had already made quick work of the guards outside and had planned to do the same to whoever this mysterious assailant was. That was until he saw what they had planned for him.

His eyes lay transfixed on the sight of Izaya’s writhing, flushed form, the sound of his muffled laughter snagging Shizuo’s attention despite himself and making him hesitate. He didn’t owe Izaya anything. Whatever this mess was, Izaya had clearly gotten himself into it. Besides, it was only tickling. Sure, it would be bad if Izaya withstood this for as long as whoever the sadistic woman out there wanted to keep him for. But Shizuo didn’t have to let it go on that long. And there was something satisfying about watching the usually smug man fall to pieces over something so simple.

Another half hour, Shizuo reasoned as a shriek rang out across the room when the woman discovered the terribly sensitive spot on his upper hips. Another half hour, and then he would save him.

Izaya would be fine till then.

[kasururigoth]

durarara fans just LOOOOOOVE seeing either shizuo or izaya get kidnapped in fanfiction... So called 'free thinkers'

[thecryingmanonthemoon]

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 😂

[the-masked-ram]

You'd Never Hurt Me- Heiwajime Shizuo x Reader

CW: Spicey, Descriptive Kissing, Suggestive Content, Mentions of smoking, Mentions of violence

AN: This is part of the kissing study? is it considered a study? for my server friends, Shizuo was requested by @a-mongoose ---

Shizuo always tries to control himself around you. Its hard though, he’s a man who naturally wants to fight, who wants to express himself physically, who had just too much strength and could easily hurt you. But he tries, lord does he try. He breathes deeply, inhales and exhales, as he backs you up against the wall, grits his teeth because the way you are looking up at him makes his gut flip. His hands ache to grab you, to hold you, to move you into positions that would be considered indecent in public society. He doesn’t of course, because he’s in control.  

But then his lips touch yours and that oxygen he’s had in his lungs punches out of him almost painfully, because it’s you, its how you taste and smell and feel. How could he ever lie to himself and hope to contain himself when you moan so nicely for him, open so beautifully for his tongue and let him devour you to the fullest.

The press of his lips, the stroke of his tongue, has his own body tingling and when your fingers slide into his blonde hair and tug just a bit, he thinks he grows dizzy. Heiwajime can’t actually think beyond the way you feel under him, the way your skin dimples just a smidge under his grasping fingers and the way you welcome him over and over into your mouth. You are breathless, despite being able to take in short puffs of air through your nose, its never enough. He’s taking and taking and never letting you replenish enough.

You think he might be losing himself; you know you certainly are. He tastes like cigarettes and the chocolate cake from earlier. He is groaning, trying to pull away and failing from the way your hands anchor him in place. Your teeth sink into his lower lip, and he jerks, you feel him shiver, you feel his muscles tense for a moment before you soothe the spot with a gentle lick.

“Don’t test me,” he growls against you, pulling away just enough so his breath brushes your skin.

You laugh, “You’d never hurt me.”

And he can tell you believe it wholeheartedly, and maybe, just maybe, a small part of him begins to believe it too.

[woogiez]

nobody asked but here are my personal headcanons about Vorona

– Vorona eventually starts vaping, Shizuo is not happy about this (he knows better than anyone that smoking is bad) but who's he to judge? plus he likes the smell

– eventually Vorona starts working in film industry as a stunt woman, this was Kasuka's idea

– this led to her and Shizuo barely seeing each other, until one day he offers her moving in together with him which makes it better, they still don't see each other every day, but it's much more often

– Vorona is a very good stunt woman due to her physical abilities and combatant skills, but is a horrendous actor (got small role offering once)

– Vorona isn't bothered by Shizuo's smoking, almost all men surrounding her from childhood were heavy smokers, including her dad, and it wasn't even good stuff

– Vorona made Shizuo have a sparring with her, he barely attacked her directly at the beginning, but started to do so when she successfully dodged all his moves and managed to get him on the ground (using his lack of technique against him), both had fun

– She doesn't like dresses or skirts due to them being too revealing during fighting. When she's wearing them, she's challenging herself to fight with her hands and torso only (not fighting is not an option obviously)

– Celty eventually warms up to Vorona when she realizes she means no harm, just like Shizuo she's kinda flattered with admiration of her power and also she finds Vorona's way of talking similar to the one she once had

– they're bonding over bikes

– Tom tried to lure Vorona into manga, but got overwhelmed by her amount of questions about weird stuff from there (like the amount of fanservice and sus stuff). He's still recommending her some stuff from time to time, but now the quality bar is in the skies

– Vorona has plenty of knowledge about cooking and even knowing some receipts by heart from books, but isn't this good on practice (mostly she gets frustrated every time recepy says like "50 mins in oven on 180" but it ends up being not enough or way too much)

– Erica once dragged Vorona into cosplay and even got her wearing sexy outfit but got disappointed by her inability to smile for a camera

– Vorona cuts all ties to her family and it's name, Shizuo was thinking about getting a blessing from her old man, but it never happened

– Vorona never had an official name, she wasn't officially registered anywhere in her country, all her documents are fake. After she moved to Japan she decided to stick with her fake passport name for all legal actions

– Shizuo never calls Vorona by fake name, even on their wedding, dude pretends he doesn't see it every time some docs need to be filled in

[animekpopsimp]

Shizuo and Izaya with a reader similar to Yor

Shizuo

The two of you work together

He's surprised that someone like you is part of something so violent

At first, Shizuo only knows you as an incredibly shy woman who looks like you wouldn't hurt a fly

However, when he's sent on a job with you, he's shocked to see you let loose

The way you strike quickly and without flinching honestly somewhat scares him

Though at the same time, Shizuo's amazed by your skills

He feels bad for assuming you were weak when the two of you first met

Though seeing you switch between your two moods always throws him for a loop

Izaya

Izaya knew all about you before you knew anything about him

He was tasked with gathering information about you and during the process, he became intrigued, wanting to get to know you better

He finds you in the city, and he immediately introduces himself

After that, he sticks by your side, teasing you when he gets the chance

He also sees you as a valuable ally considering how skilled you are

Izaya tries convincing you to help him out, but you always say no

You quickly become one of his favorite humans

[ficresc]

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

[gemini-twinz]

Legend one: Braindance Angel

This is part of a Cyberpunk 2077 AU for Durarara!! I will be writing a fic soon titled Memory Reboot, but before I started, I wanted to write some small tests/warmups to get me comfortable writing for it. Here is the first one. Small disclaimer that this is self contained and Memory Reboot will not be in first person.

------------🚹💖----------------

Good evening Setton. This experience has been modified specifically for your unique interface. Please enter your terminal password.

User: Setton

Password: *********|

-#(LOADING…)#-

D=#$%&&, (compiling shaders)&&7**~

R*%^&&(tuning emotional triggers)#$@@

R*%!!~+(synthesizing physical sensations)&***_=

R3^7**-(recalling memory)%--#$&--.--..--.*

Thank you for waiting! Enjoy your braindance…

_+-=_

I am seeing through the eyes of a man who seems oddly familiar in a way I can't place.

The man stands on the top of the tower of Arasaka and looks blankly out onto the city, blinded by the halo flashing a lovely memory into his eyes. He pays no mind to the flickering advertisements hovering above Night City's denizens, or the smog creating a fog over the damp and dimly lit streets. Teetering on the edge, he laughs, arms out as he blindly walks the edge. His movements are flighty and off tilt, almost as if he is in a drunken state, but I taste no alcohol on his breath.

It isn't until the city flickers and fries below him that I realize he’s not simply watching a braindance, he is inside of one. Somehow his BD wreath is still visible in his eyes, though it may be part of the BD as well. How does someone even record a virtue of a virtue? … Wait..

**&476(Amygdala not found. Switching to alternative method)&&$*2**

&%#3(Possible method found. Initiating)&<#**

A sorrow I have never felt before starts at the top of my neck and washes over my entire body, coldness in it's wake. I'm convinced my fingers may turn blue. My nerves feel like ice.

The man looks at his shaking hands.

I'm shaking with him.

The call of the void overtakes my senses as he looks listlessly over the edge of the building. There is no drop in the pit of his stomach, no nausea. There is no fear in him of falling, as if replaced by the invincible feeling of knowing he can fly. As he holds his arms in close to hug his body, I feel a smirk stretch across his face to reveal his chattering teeth.

With a flash like a nebula forming, great digital wings emerge from his back, flickering like a distorted hologram. Colorful glitches dance on each feather like sunlight reflecting on the ocean’s horizon. He opens his arms and looks wide-eyed to the moon with a sardonic laugh..

“Am I truly equal..?” He talks to no-one, tipping his head to look back down at the city streets. "Equal to them before you.. Or too wretched.." Silent contemplation takes him for a moment.. then he speaks up once more. “Try as I may, I.. have no place in heaven..”

And he tips over the edge with open arms.

He doesn't fly.

Thank god he closes his eyes, and all I hear is a wet, horrid crunch before awakening as if from a nightmare. Tuning credits roll on my visor, and I hear a voice memo, stark and cold as an AI.

_+-=_

“We at A.B. Virtue inc. hope your experience was an exhilarating one, and..

We urge you to consider challenging your biases..

Have a pleasant evening, Setton”

[ymirloves]

⋆｡°✩Meet the blogger! ⋆｡°✩

hii i'm ymir and im ur author <3 some stuff abt me: i am a big nerd on writing fanfiction/general stories, video games, and nature! **legend of zelda is my alltime favorite video game ((TP is my fav; getting OoT soon ;) )) some of my fav music artists is glass animals, sza, i monster ashnikko, marina and the diamonds, florence and the machine, kendrick lamar ! i hope i meet lots of people on here, i'm super new to tumblr and reaching out to fandoms anyways!

[espejonight28738]

May Never Make it Out Challenge

Tagged by @saynomorefic

Instructions: Post a 1-5 paragraph excerpt of a WIP / fic idea that may never make it out of your drafts but is near and dear to your heart.

I had a lot of options where to chose from, but this particular fic still haunts me in my sleep bc the reason I never ended it was because I genuinely can’t remember how the climax scene was supposed to go. I tell myself all the time I will eventually go back and write an ending, even if it’s not the one I originally planned but uh, it’s been like six years and here we are.

So here it is, "Alive" (from the Durarara!! anime, the ship is Shizuo Heiwajima/Izaya Orihara, because I know a lot of people won’t recognize it. It’s been a while since it was my main fandom)

His life entered an automatic mode, in which every day was pretty much the same and he didn’t remember any of them. He had an inalterable routine he detested but couldn’t break. Even the gangs had stopped coming after him. Heiwajima and Orihara, The Info Broker and The Monster, the two most dangerous men in Ikebukuro. For more or less a decade, the two of them were a unit in people’s minds. You didn’t hear about one without hearing about the other, their names as if they were a single word. It seemed that when Izaya disappeared from the face of the earth, Shizuo was forgotten with him. And that was the problem, everyone just forgot about Izaya. Not in the first years, of course, but by the time Shizuo was about to turn 30, there was nothing left to prove the existence of the ex-informant but his own memories and the scar on his chest Izaya left during their first encounter. And it was so frustrating because he couldn’t even go a day without thinking about him. He saw Izaya everywhere he went, in all the things he did, in every dream he had. There were times he could swear he heard his voice saying the stupid nickname he hated with his annoying voice, but the worst part was that he knew it wasn’t real. He started dating Vorona because she was cute, kind, nice, was in love with him, and he was desperate to feel something other than the piercing emptiness in his chest.

Toxic and codependent Shizaya my beloved. It was actually so hard to choose, I really love the ~4k words I did write.

Optional: share a song that goes with the idea

In spanish, yes, but this was the song that first gave me the idea of this fic, even if it ended up a lot more drastic bc I love the drama.

Tagging: @verobatto and whoever else wants to do it bc I just realized I’m not even sure who of my fanfic writer mutuals is still active in here so. Yeah, if you want to do it feel free to say I tagged you.