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PART 11 OVERFLOW
drrrkink
DURARARA!! KINK MEME PT.11 OVERFLOW


This post is only for new and continuing fics from part 11! Please do not post new requests here.

ATTN all authors moving fics to this part:
Please put the original URL to your request somewhere in the first part of the fic, just so people a) know what it's for and b) to make things easier for russia_sushi-tachi. Thank you!

part 1 | part 1 Overflow | part 2 | part 2 Overflow | part 3 | part 4 | part 4 Overflow | part 5 | part 6 | part 6 Overflow | part 7 | part 7 Overflow | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 11 Overflow | part 12


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Slant [11a/?]

(Anonymous)

A/N: Alright, continuing Slant, a fill for the part 11 prompt here: http://drrrkink.livejournal.com/6253.html?thread=24628845#t24628845 - here's hoping that this chapter is a fun read, too!





There’s something wrong.



Izaya can sense that pretty clearly – has for a while now, starting last night and it’s only gotten worse with the passing of twenty-four long hours – and the problem’s not in the whisper of rice cooking or the sharp edge of a knife slapping the cutting board in Shizuo’s kitchen. It’s not the difficulty Izaya has in reaching the counter from his chair, either, and it’s not that he keeps forgetting what to do next because he can’t help noticing Shizuo working with all the confidence of a serious chef.



Heck, the problem’s not even that – the surprise of Shizuo being what amounts to a better cook than Izaya – and the informant’s happy, really, even if their meal will be mostly the fruit of Shizuo’s efforts. Izaya can at least boast of having helped, and then this is just another moment of almost-nearness that should be able to provide him with at least a vague sense of comfort.



He just showered – whole place reeks of flea, he’d grumbled beforehand, and Izaya’d flushed and glanced away to hide just how much he liked the idea that his scent was mingling with Shizuo’s in some grand gesture of foolishly romantic symbolism – and his hair looks unsurprisingly good wet, too. Izaya has to impose upon Shizuo to have his clothes changed and to take his own showers, which means that he’s – well, not accustomed to the physical proximity, but at the very least he’s sure already that the brute’s normal body temperature is about twenty degrees above that of a normal human’s.



Izaya’s kicking himself for the cliché even before he thinks to himself that Shizuo looks like he’s currently lingering at around fifteen extra degrees above that.



It’s just – the steam and Shizuo opening his mouth wide to enjoy the cool air – you always take such hot showers, Shizu-chan, and are you certain that you can afford that when you’re not even working? Shizuo’s already explained everything to his boss, of course, and there’s no problem there anymore but Izaya loves pushing Shizuo’s buttons and Shizuo loves to react with little adorable glares and bitten-back fits of rage and that makes the provocation worth it.



He looks good in the messy, ugly clothes he wears around the house. He looks good with his hair all disheveled and the guard-down expressions he doesn’t mean to let his enemy see. Izaya likes the way Shizuo wants to be mad but can’t help letting the guilt show on his face every time he notices Izaya’s still-too-tight brace and the way he sometimes rubs at the limp flesh of his legs.



There’s no problem there, of course. Nothing wrong with a bit of eye candy in the midst of a lot of awkward embarrassment, but –



– it’s just…



It’s the quiet.



No – not that. Quiet makes sense here, but it’s usually the kind born of what’s supposed to be mutual dislike. It’s natural, which makes it comfortable.



This quiet is tense. There’s an extra heaviness in the air between them that feels anything but normal.



“Feeling okay?” Shizuo wonders blandly for the umpteenth time today. Izaya would be flattered if it weren’t for the lack of enthusiasm; it’s like the blonde’s just going through the motions of what he considers to be nothing more than a chore.



He doesn’t actually care, but he’s said it himself – a sick flea is an extra-annoying one.



Tough luck, Shizu-chan, the informant thinks with a strong hint of bitterness. That part of me’s not getting any better, and you can’t even summon up the nerve to make me leave. Guess we’re stuck like this, then, for as long as you’ll still put up with –



“Izaya.”


Slant [11b/?]

(Anonymous)

His vision clears quickly as he blinks to dispel the silent monologue. He’s been doing that a lot, and it’s been getting him absolutely nowhere. He only does it because it’s the only way he knows how to vent his own frustration when speech and fits of inappropriate laughter or tears and purely childish tantrums would only ever humiliate him further in front of his Shizu-chan.



He hates everything about this, and he loves it all for what it is. He doesn’t stand a chance, but he can’t help hoping and nothing about Shizuo is helping that. He knows exactly how bad it would be for the brute to find out about his purely insane attraction to him, but something in Izaya likes dropping suicidal hints, anyway.



Another cliché: it’s really and truly eating him up inside.



He’s not used to it – not this – but he somehow manages to hide it all behind a practiced smile.



“That makes twenty-one times, Shizu-chan.”



Twenty-one times, already – feeling okay, are you doing alright, you’re not gonna keel over, are you – ?



The blonde looks taken aback. “What the hell – you’ve been counting?”



“Does it look like I have anything better to do?”



Normally, his response would have been a conversation-ender. Shizuo would have been prompted to grit his teeth or storm off and the distance between them would have been just as it always was.



So maybe Izaya wants Shizuo to answer him. Maybe he wants another conversation. A real one.



“Finish washing those,” the blonde suggests grumpily. He nods at the potatoes lying untouched in front of Izaya – practically at eye level, and yeah it’s hard but he’s already insisted that he be allowed to do this – before turning back to his own corner of the tiny kitchen.



Izaya smiles forlornly as he reaches up to resume his task. He’d like to keep the conversation going, but to do so now would be to force it.



He wants something… natural. Like hating Shizuo, but of course that’s been impossible for a long time now.



Like Shizuo hating me, he decides. Like that turning into something different. Black magic. Some kind of miracle.



It’ll never happen.




~



“It’s not bad at all, Shizu-chan,” Izaya murmurs approvingly as he leans in for another spoonful of curry. It’s not nearly as spicy as it should be, of course, but the flavor really is incredible.



It’s definitely better than Izaya’s own recipe.



“You helped,” Shizuo grumbles, and it’s not that he’s trying to be modest – no, it’s more like he’s just annoyed that Izaya would compliment him to begin with. He hasn’t so much as touched his own food, but he’s been staring hard at it for the past several minutes.



And so the distance grows…



“If you’re not hungry,” Izaya offers with a flippant grin, “I’d be happy to take care of that for you.”



He wouldn’t – doesn’t eat half as much as this brute probably could – but he’d take almost anything over the sight of Shizuo picking at nothing and refusing to speak for the next hour.



Shizuo just grunts, though, and finally picks up his spoon. He doesn’t look at Izaya and doesn’t appear to be enjoying the taste of what he’s eating even as he begins to shovel it mechanically into his mouth.



“That’s the second time,” Izaya finds himself sighing under his breath.



Shizuo twitches and finally raises his eyes to meet Izaya’s.



“The second time what?” he wonders suspiciously.



“I’m trying to have a conversation with Shizu-chan,” Izaya pouts before he can think to stop himself, “but you’re not cooperating at all. How do you make it in society with a personality like that, anyway?”



Shizuo blinks and slowly lowers his hand with its spoonful of curry back to the table. “Huh. Can’t believe you told me that I suck at stuff like that.”



“What’s that supposed to mean?”



“Why’d you wanna talk to me, anyway?” Shizuo returns the challenge.



Izaya struggles with the heat that’s threatening to stain his cheeks again. “Even I can’t help it if the silence is more or less uncomfortable, Shizu-chan.”


Slant [11c/?] (Anonymous) Expand
Re: Slant [11c/?] (Anonymous) Expand
gPdYCNHNeSIV (Anonymous) Expand

Red chain of fate [17/?]

(Anonymous)
Okay so this is the continuation of http://drrrkink.livejournal.com/6253.html?thread=24958573#t24958573

Instead he closed the tedious book and stretched.

“Say, Shizu-chan, we have to figure out how to live normally with this thing.”

Shizuo, who has already done with the phone call nodded and sat next to Izaya, as far as the bond allowed.

“Just for the record, I still hate you very much,” Izaya began bluntly.

“I do too bastard.”

“Good, that’s good,” Izaya mumbled dismissively.

“Anyways... I have a job. And it’s a very important one. If I don’t do it, the both of us just might end up dead,” Izaya started nonchalantly.

Shizuo was now wide-eyed. If there’s someone that could really take them both on... why is Izaya working with them? Ah, the stupidity of Izaya never ceased to amaze him.

“I have a job too louse... And I don’t want to abandon Tom-san.”

“Ah yes, I’m aware of that. Well you’ll have to settle for not working with him in the following month all thanks to your best friend,” Izaya smiled, the expression so obviously fake it hurt.

“I’ll even give you enough money to pay for the bills if you do some minor work. As much as I love messing with Namie-chan, I would never hear the end of it if she saw me in this state, meaning I'd love some of your help. Kida is still in high school after all...“ he continued.

„Flea.... You shouldn't drag fucking KIDS in your shit of a JOB!“ Shizuo roared slamming his fist against one of the cushions – the original target being Izaya who dodged.

„Ah but Kida-chan dragged himself into this mess when he started Yellow Scarves!“ Izaya exclaimed cheerfully while avoiding Shizuo's clumsy (try hitting someone when you're bound to them) punches.

„That kid did what?“ Shizuo stopped midway.

„Might as well tell you since you're gonna work for me now...“

„I DID NOT AGREE TO THAT YET!“

„Gosh, Shizu-chan I have neighbours, don't be so loud. By the way I expect you not to masturbate when I'm around, just so you know,“ Izaya talked about the topic as if he was contemplating the weather.

Shizuo was now red not only because of anger but embarrassment too.

„Yo- I- he- why- wha- I-“ Shizuo stuttered with wide eyes.

„Ah I know, being a monster must be lonely but please refrain from presenting something as horrific to my virgin mind.“

Shizuo finally snapped out of it and scowled.

„Virgin mind my ass... Everyone in Ikebukuro knows you're a cheap whore who sucks dicks for information.“

Izaya gritted his teeth, trying hard to not let his anger show. Of course, Shizuo too had to believe those stupid rumours. It wasn't as if he didn't want those rumours – no, he didn't care about what his humans thought, but Shizuo was the one he expected to be above gossiping.


He's never 'whored around' for information. It wasn't as if he was a virgin either but he's only done things like those in relationships. Well with the exception of... that guy. But he'd rather not remember that. Anyways, all the guys he's done it with were long-term relationships. But every single time, Izaya found himself unable to love the man individually so they broke up in a few months every time.

Re: Red chain of fate [18/?]

(Anonymous)
Not to mention his crushes. There were two or maybe three of them, the rest was physical attraction only.

„Whatever you want to believe is fine by me, Shizu-chan, I seriously don't care. You're just not doing that while we're connected. That's gross. Plus – what if the „you'll feel what the other one feels“ works with pleasure too? That'd be like having sex with me!“

Shizuo had to admit that Izaya's logic made sense this time and he nodded.

„Okay, now I can pay you twice as much as your monthly salary for every week. What I need you to do is pick up some calls, cook, send out information and yeah, that's probably it. Oh and by the way, all the information is confidential – for a price of course – so you're absolutely not allowed to discuss it with your friends, family acquaintances and so on and so on... Basically if you let some information slip, it's your fault that you get shot at by some yakuza... And although I would love to see you dead, we are kind of connected right now and I'd prefer not dying any time soon,“ Izaya rambled, ignoring Shizuo's slightly freaked out slightly disgusted expression.

„Wait flea, I still haven't agreed to this shit,“ Shizuo protested.

„Ah yes, right, you could also spend your days watching me work and come back home to a huge lot of bills and a confiscated apartment. You really don't have much choice Shizu-chan.“

„...fine.“

„Okay, okay. Now that's settled, I have two people coming over this evening. And I don't really want to cancel it so you'll have to meet them too. What to say, what to say? Ah, they'll probably come without bodyguards since they're coming both at the same time and in their free time,“ Izaya announced while standing up and forcing Shizuo to the kitchen with him.

Shizuo took a glass from the counter and filled it with water. Meanwhile, Izaya started making himself some coffee.

„Oh and they're yakuza executives,“ Izaya commented and watched Shizuo spit out his water.

„What the fuck flea? I knew you had fucked up connections but to think you spend your free time with yakuza?“ he angrily demanded.

Izaya simply couldn't be serious! Shizuo was supposed to casually converse with some yakuza guys this evening? What was Izaya thinking?

„Don't worry Shizu-chan... As long as you don't lose your temper with them, they're fun to be around. Oh and please don't stare too much.“


„Why should I stare at them?“

„They're a couple.“

Shizuo's jaw hung loosely to the ground.

„Th-that sounds like a bad scenario from one of those mangas Karisawa-san reads.“

„I think it's quite romantic,“ Izaya giggled and poured the boiling water in his mug.

„As if you'd ever know what that means,“ Shizuo growled and set his glass in the sink.

„Actually, I do Shizu-chan. I just have no desire to act upon those things whatsoever. But they're one of the few couples I don't mind.“

Originally Shizuo thought of saying 'you shouldn't mind any couples since their personal lives are none of your business' but then realized how stupid and hypocritic that sounds. First of all, it actually was Izaya's job to stick his nose in other people's lives. Also, Shizuo often beat up people for their fake sense of love when they fell in love with a hooker whose name they didn't even know. He just hoped that the couple Izaya was telling him about wasn't like that. Otherwise he'd end up raging and that probably wouldn't be a good idea.

Red chain of fate [20/?] (Anonymous) Expand

Slant [12a/?]

(Anonymous)

A/N: I'm honestly not sure how to thread the new chapters that I have to post here, so I've decided to just keep posting them as new comment threads while again supplying the original prompt's URL: http://drrrkink.livejournal.com/6253.html?thread=24628845#t24628845



Sorry for the confusion of continuing a fic here; let me know if there's a better or more correct way to do this. ^^







Should the two of them surviving together for another two days after that count as a miracle? Izaya’s not sure, but that’s probably because he’s barely holding up, anyway. In forty-eight hours, he’s only rarely heard Shizuo’s voice. He’s caught the brute glaring hard at him more than once, but on every one of those occasions Shizuo’s immediate reaction has been to turn away and pretend that he’s been properly ignoring Izaya all along.



He’s not mad – at least not incredibly – but that hardly makes anything better, same as always, so Izaya worries and fights himself and his idiot feelings and the change in Shizuo as if his life depended on it. He blames his brace for making it hard to breathe and wishes more than anything that he could stand the fuck up just once for a walk or maybe to run away, but in the end his physical problems are nothing next to the psychological stress of Shizuo’s attitude and the being there with him to face it.



He’s not sure when, exactly, the thought enters his head, but as soon as it does it quickly makes itself impossible to ignore.




He knows.



It’s Izaya’s worst fear and his only wish, but he’s too messed up and cowardly to say it or hide it properly. Left floating in the semi-open like that, it’s only natural that perceptive Shizu-chan’s figured it out – no, he doesn’t even have to have made it that far. It’s enough for him to suspect it, because from there certainty’s just around the corner.



“So, Shizu-chan,” Izaya speaks through the cotton in his mouth. By then he’s already been dwelling on the possibility for hours, and of course every curious glance he’s cast in Shizuo’s direction has yielded little more than tense irritation and there-and-gone glares. “About those conversations…”



It’s supposed to be a casually sarcastic attempt at breaking Shizuo’s façade, but for all that Izaya tries the words still come out sounding disgustingly pitiful.



“What about ‘em?” Shizuo snaps, but there’s definitely a note of surprise mixed into that flurry of forced anger. Izaya’s caught him off-guard by taking the initiative, and it’s honestly satisfying, that; it feels like his first victory in far too long.



It’s almost enough to offset the frustration of losing control to someone Izaya wants to hate.



“First you ruin my legs,” he sulks, and he’s not smiling but he’s doing his best to work up to it, “and then you refuse to let me leave your apartment when I finally offer to take myself off your hands.”



Shizuo’s practically cringing as he looks away again.



There – that’s exactly it, Izaya thinks with a short pang of regret, and he puts it into words almost without meaning to. “And then you won’t even look at me except to help with” – Izaya’s tentative smile fades into an embarrassed blush before he can think to stop it – “with whatever basic hygiene needs attention at any given moment…”


Slant [12b/?]

(Anonymous)

Shizuo rolls his eyes and somehow still fails to look directly at Izaya. “You have a mouth. Talk if you want.”



Izaya stumbles over a few syllables before he gives up to glare furiously into his lap. He’s sitting in the stupid wheelchair again, and as if that sight weren’t already annoying enough as it is, he’s also forced to put up with the glare of an ugly set of very red, very huge sweatpants – Shizuo’s, of course, but there’s no reason for Izaya to have to wear them now that he has some of his own clothes – courtesy of Shinra.



 It’s just that the air was and is too thick here to allow for words or complaints, so when Shizuo decided to spite him with this Izaya shut right up and let him.



He hates that he did and that he can’t say anything even now.



“There’s no point talking to a wall,” he mutters, then, and Shizuo responds by turning to glare straight at him.



Finally, he thinks, but that vague sense of relief is immediately replaced by one of dread as Shizuo takes one and then another step toward him with his fists already half-raised.



“Know what?” the blonde hisses, and Izaya bites his lower lip, feels fear and tears threatening and tries to roll his chair back a few inches – to escape.



It’s no good, of course, because Shizuo meets that bet and raises it some with another several feet.



“If you want something from me,” the blonde snarls, and his hand’s already curled about the collar of Izaya’s T-shirt in an all-too familiar gesture of what-comes-next fight glinting in both their eyes the way it always used to be –



“Shizu-chan, what –?!”



“You have to fucking give something in return, idiot!”



Izaya thrashes his head from side to side – denial, confusion, I’m so sorry, Shizu-chan, but that isn’t – as both his hands find Shizuo’s one. His eyes are stinging with tears and it’s not because he’s afraid for his own safety but because he’s afraid of slipping back or losing what little semblance of warmth and closeness he’s had here. Because he’s afraid of seeing this anger as something purer than he wants it to be –



– that little something more, that crucial extra layer of raw emotion and everything he wishes it could mean for them both.



“I would,” he groans. “You just don’t get it, Shizu-chan – I can’t, not as long as you’re…”




…like this…



Shizuo’s brown eyes turn steely. He thrusts Izaya back into his wheelchair, ignoring as he does so the muffled whimper born of Izaya’s back and legs erupting into sparks and waves of throbbing hurt. It feels like various points all along his body are detaching themselves from his awareness only to come back together in tiny bursts of agony, and as it worsens he finds himself sobbing and wordless before a gaping space of no one there.



He can hear Shizuo’s voice somewhere above and behind him as he throws his arms about himself in an attempt to hold everything in – control, he needs control and he needs to hear Shizu-chan, too, he needs to hear every word –




“…think that’s actually fair, you idiot scumbag?! I don’t fucking read minds, and I wouldn’t even put up with this if it weren’t for –”



“Shizu – Shizu-chan, please,” he groans, as desperate now for relief as he is for reassurance. “Shizu-chan, it – it hurts!”



The thunder of Shizuo’s raised voice dies down, then, but the ensuing silence only drones on and on into a steady ache of helpless want and invisible teeth gnawing all the way down to bare bone.



He’s gone…


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Room for Dreams overflow

(Anonymous)

I hope that this method of threading new updates works okay. The original request can be found here: http://drrrkink.livejournal.com/6253.html?thread=23934573#t23934573


Room for Dreams [11a/?]

(Anonymous)

Returning from her small handful of odd jobs and errands, Celty would like to be able to say that she’s surprised to find Shizuo waiting with Shinra in their apartment. She’d like to be surprised by his new air of dread-heavy responsibility and something bordering on guilt. By the relative silence in the other room and the obvious exhaustion of forcing help on someone who needs but can’t handle it.



She’d even like to have to wonder what he intends to do from here on, but she knows Heiwajima Shizuo.



“Hey,” he mumbles tiredly, and she nods thoughtfully. Whips out her PDA and then pauses to come up with a decent response – doesn’t want to be transparent, doesn’t want to add to the pressure and certainly doesn’t want to make anything more awkward or infuriating than it already is.



Thanks for coming, she decides, and Shizuo returns her nod without smiling.



“Yeah,” he sighs. “Sorry – guess I might be here ‘th you guys for a while…”



She wonders if she should fake surprise. Shinra smiles sympathetically from his quiet place on the couch, but it’s Shizuo who responds to her moment of hesitation.



“Figured you’d sorta know already,” he admits. “Thanks.”



Her shadows billow bewilderedly about the open edges of her sleeves. Has she done something to deserve that gratitude?



“Hey,” he starts again, and Celty’s whole body tenses before she’s even remotely sure what she’s so afraid of.



“What do you think about him?” he wonders quietly, and then jumps in to clarify before anyone can ask him to. “I mean, how do you feel about this – this whole thing?”



He looks more downcast with every word, but there’s purpose in it. Celty knows – Shizuo’s not the type to let things go undiscussed or misunderstood, and talking it out will always hurt just a little less than hiding it away.



She wonders if he’s already asked Shinra to fill him in on all the little details. The doctor’s no idiot, after all, but he’s still clumsy enough to want to keep everything to himself. The toll it’s taking on him has been bothering Celty almost more than has Izaya’s condition, and while Shizuo’s intentions probably wouldn’t stem from anything read into or implicitly understood, the result would be the same.



Her friend is sort of impressive that way, actually; he fixes things without meaning to, and that in spite of the fact that he claims not to understand a single thing about how others think. Reading people’s not his deal, he says, but those on his good – non-violent, non-vending-machine-throwing, raging and dangerous – side mean more to him than the limits he puts on himself.



Those people, he’ll help almost without realizing that he does it.



It’s honestly a bit hard to tell whether I genuinely understand his situation, she admits after a moment of thought, but I can’t help wondering if he’ll ever return to being the man he was.



That might be something like a good thing, though – because she’s never been able to like Orihara Izaya, anyway, because nothing he ever did was bad enough to warrant this but that can’t change the fact that he was still a truly twisted person, a child playing with fire and too self-assured to fear. She tells her friend as much knowing that he’ll sympathize more than anyone else possibly could, but the torn expression on his face is more than enough evidence of just how differently Shizuo can’t help feeling.



“It was a shock for all of us,” Shinra murmurs, and Celty turns to face him because she can sense that he’s trying to do the very same thing she is. “Maybe it’s also because we knew him personally, but don’t you think it’s normal to worry about a person – any person – in his condition?”


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Funerals [1/1]

(Anonymous)
Original request: http://drrrkink.livejournal.com/6253.html?thread=23933293#t23933293 Literally anything, from sibling!fluff to hardcore incest/rape, from torture to crack, from humor to tragedy. ANYTHING GOES as long as it focuses on the Orihara trio. Go wild and be creative, anons!
___________________________________________
It may seem like they didn't care about each other but they did. While Mairu and Kururi were like one entity, the twins and Izaya were two separate beings, bound by hatred and relations.

And although they would never admit it, the hatred wasn't anywhere near to the obscene one that Shizuo and Izaya had. No – it was only present sometimes, because they also knew how to have fun as a family (if it can be called that). And furthermore, they supported each other so when Mairu and Kururi have almost gotten themselves kidnapped, Izaya was there to drag them out of trouble and call Shinra because of the drugs in their system. When Shizuo and Izaya broke up for the first time after three years, the girls were there to let Izaya cry and watch some movies later on (porn, seeing as Mairu was the one to choose them).

So when the girls heard that Iza-nii is finally dead from a puffy-eyed Shizuo, they screamed and sobbed and whimpered into his shirt while he tried hard to be strong.

They both wore beautiful and colorful dresses on his funeral – Mairu chose a radiant pink with baby blue flowers on them and Kururi wore a long sleeved red dress with black fur trim. Izaya would have liked that – they always held contests about finding the craziest piece of clothing. Other relatives came too although they never even bothered to talk to Izaya before and wept fake tears for the lovely and kind young man.

After it was over, they sat above his grave (knowing that Shizuo is watching from afar) and talked to Izaya until they both fell asleep, on the ground.

In the morning, they found themselves on Shizuo's bed and found said man smoking on the balcony.

The world was grey and empty without their brother.
___________________________________-
A short fill and some minor Shizaya... I just had to, although I'm supposed to be working on 3 other fills right now

Every pet comes with a leash - prompt

(Anonymous)
Original prompt: http://drrrkink.livejournal.com/6253.html?thread=21442925#t21442925
??/Shizuo
Kink: Training a monster to be the perfect pet. Dehumanizing, mental control, loyal pet to its master.
So, I want someone (Shiki, Akabayashi, Izaya, OC?) taking things on his hands to control the untamable monster, Shizuo, because he's been causing more trouble than the normal. And there's been a lot of problems due to this (more city damage, trouble with yakuza deals, etc.)
So, can I have a really kinky and descriptive story where the monster Shizuo becomes the perfect and most loyal pet? =3 If it is due to sex, punishments, something else, a mix of all, I'll give you my heart forever!! I beg for it! I'm on my knees!

Every pet comes with a leash [1/?]

(Anonymous)
You may not know it, but Izaya Orihara has a soft spot for pets. He's always liked dogs and cats in their own way – liked especially the idea of controlling and leashing an actual living being, making himself the only one they depended on, the one that decided whether they'd live or die – ah yes, Izaya Orihara has a soft spot for pets indeed.

It all began when he was still a child and his mother bought him a kitten – still when she was pregnant. The kitten didn't want to be petted at all and avoided Izaya at all costs. But Izaya slowly coaxed it to like him by giving it treats and feeding it. But one day he realized that such an obedient cat is very boring – so he let it starve to death and buried it under a tree in his garden. He told his mother that the kitty was run over by a car.

He's wanted another pet ever since.

But alas, the life of an informant is very hectic so he didn't actually have time to buy one before, making it only another item on his list of TO DO things. What he didn't know though that he would soon get a “pet” to train as a part of his job.

It started off just like any other day – with him typing something on his computer while he emailed Namie – who had called in sick and now worked from her home – intel on some stray members of Awakusu who were planning a coup d'etat and instructions to call some of his contacts and and give the information recieved to Shiki. He sighed as he looked down on the busy streets on Shinjuku full of his lovely humans – then why was everything so boring, so dull today?

Ah, he wouldn't want to become tedious now, would he? He was considered bad enough already.

As he contemplated on whether to visit Russia Sushi or try finding a victim on one of those suicide sites, his phone rang. He mentally cheered as he saw that it was Shiki calling him.

“Shiki-san!” he exclaimed as soon as he picked up the phone, completely disconcerning any manners.

“Good afternoon, Orihara-san,” Shiki began without making any comments at the greeting. Izaya frowned and spun a little on his chair.

“You want to request something possibly unpleasant from me, don't you?” Izaya guessed.

“...yes and no,” Shiki admitted indifferently. “I guess you could say we're giving you a completely unrelated job but at the same time I'm sure you'll be interested in what we have to offer.”

“Oya, oya, whatever could you be talking about?” Izaya spoke up, his interest piqued.

“Let's say a certain someone has been causing lots of problems for us lately. We've decided that taking him down is a) very risky and b) not a good idea because of the influence he seems to have... inadvertedly.”

“Ah but Shiki-san, I still can't see how this is supposed to be any of my business. I'm an informant, not an assassin,” the raven interrupted.

“Not a man of patience, are you Orihara-san? We want to make him disappear – discreetly and thought you could be of help. We'd even pay you extra – if you took it upon yourself to, let's say train him.”

“Shiki-san... that's still not-” Izaya tried arguing but Shiki beat him to it.

“I'm talking about Heiwajima-san.”

The silence was overwhelming. So Shizu-chan pissed the yakuza off and they offered him the chance to torture the poor man in any way he wanted to as long as he didn't kill him or set him free?

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Slant overflow

(Anonymous)

A/N: Okay, so I've already posted two other chapters on this page individually, but from now on I'll thread this way. Sorry for taking so long with updates, and the original prompt, again, is here: http://drrrkink.livejournal.com/6253.html?thread=24628845#t24628845



Slant [13a/?]

(Anonymous)

Shizuo leaves Izaya alone in his chair and that stupid brace and a room now ringing with the sharp sobs of falling to pieces and Shizuo’s nickname on endless repeat.



Hunched over the trembling hands he’s holding close to his flushed-red face, the blonde can’t help hearing that pathetic monologue – Shizu-chan, Shizu-chan, please come please and then nothing but the first three syllables of desperation – and that’s not even it, actually. The way Izaya says it makes it seem less desperate and more like the name itself is almost enough. Like the one and only best solution to the pain is the one who just went and caused it.



“Idiot,” Shizuo hisses into his hands. He means Izaya, but – on second thought, he might actually mean himself, too.



The calling doesn’t stop, but it does let up long enough to emphasize the obvious crash of a failed lunge forward. That’s when Shizuo’s name starts to take turns with muted whimpers and gasps meant to smother screams. There’s a soft clicking underlying that, like maybe the wheels of the overturned chair are still spinning madly and going nowhere.



“Don’t move,” Shizuo pleads hoarsely, but he doesn’t stand up to do anything and his head is ringing. He thinks it must be that damn flea’s scent and the rumpled blankets and they’re practically soaked in it thanks to – to –



“Shizu –”



“Shut up!” he demands all at once and with the whole force of the air in his lungs. He’s loud enough that not only Izaya but also most of his neighbors – and they already hated him, anyway – must be able to hear him yelling. He hates the sound of it and he hates that it doesn’t even stop the flea’s crying – just makes it worse, makes it more and faster and sloppier – and he hates that even then he can’t budge from the edge of the bed and wrinkled sheets.



He hates confusion, especially when it’s an intentional result of fancy words and skirting the meat of a given topic. He may be guilty of that now, but that’s only because the confusion of maybe being loved like this is too much. It’s fake, must be, but nothing he’s done so far has proved that and all it really points to is honest truth.



He says it out loud this time because he needs something just a little more tangible to hold on to.



“We’re supposed to hate each other…”




~



When Izaya finally goes completely silent, time starts moving again. Shizuo is so suddenly jolted back into total awareness that the quiet might as well be an echoingly loud noise, and in a vacuum he at last manages to find the strength to stand up and stumble past his nightstand and clothes – his and Izaya’s, all mixed up and strewn about the floor just to hopefully piss the flea off – until he reaches the open door.



“Sorry,” he finds himself whispering. He’s half-asleep and heavy and he hasn’t even seen the shape of Izaya sprawled out on the floor yet, but his mouth’s already dry and his breath’s coming fast and he knows to expect it. He knows that doing everything in his power won’t be nearly enough to make perfect amends, knows how little provocation he’d need to do it all over again and that’s why he has to apologize until he’s washed at least some of the guilt away –


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Did you know? overflow

(Anonymous)
From chapter nine on, I'll be continuing "Did you know?" here. The link for the original prompt is here: http://drrrkink.livejournal.com/6253.html?thread=22311533#t22311533

Did you know? [9a/?]

(Anonymous)

Shizuo doesn’t start to feel panicked until he finds himself alone and unsupported in the empty elevator of Orihara Izaya’s apartment building. It’s only in the informant’s absence that his mind finds space to wander, after all, and even wandering it endlessly returns to dwell on the glow of his touch and his voice and gentle words.



It keeps reminding him just how much he’ll miss that in the long hours standing between himself and more of Izaya.



His mind coasts along at eighty miles an hour.



It was a long walk last night, and as tired and achy as Shizuo still is, he’s sure to be really late no matter how fast he tries to limp his way back to the bar – which is another thing he can’t stop thinking about, actually, the fact that pain is the price for this, that loyalty is impossible and that he’s pathetic pitiful and an idiot for willingly relying on his enemy like this.



It’s going to hurt. Every moment of physical and mental agony is going to be another moment spent yearning for smug smirks and Izaya’s strong presence. That longing won’t take the pain away while it’s happening – won’t even slow it down or make it tolerable, really – but it’s probably the only thing that’s gonna keep Shizuo sane.



Never mind that that in itself is a frightening prospect – the fact that he really does feel like he needs to worry about his own mental stability. He’s fucked it up so bad already that there’s just no way things’ll ever turn out well and that terrifies him.



When he finally has to stop to buy himself another pack of calm-down-breathe-deep-and-forget cigarettes, his hands are shaking so much that he drops his wallet the second he manages to get it out of his pocket.



“Shit,” he hisses, bending over to pick it up and the old guy waiting for him asks him if he’s okay – drunk, maybe, he guesses and Shizuo probably doesn’t have half as much control over the steadiness of his voice as he’d like to so he doesn’t bother arguing.



He pays. He keeps walking.



It’s cold out today, too, but the mid-morning sun – been a little while, hasn’t it – has plenty of people out on the streets. It’s not enough to increase Shizuo’s anxiety by a whole lot, but it certainly doesn’t help a damn thing. He attracts more attention the farther he gets – not more than usual even now, maybe, but there are rumors going around and people are curious.



Can’t he fight anymore? Did he finally get over that temper of his? Is he sick or hurt or struggling with something else entirely?



“Shizuo – hey! Shizuo!”



That voice…



He feels himself pale as he turns to face it and the happily surprised smile he knows is gonna be there to match. White and breathless and that damn shaking that just won’t stop, he wants to run but that’s not even an option.



Not just because he couldn’t hope to get away, but also because he could never do that to Tom-san.



 



“It was what now?” Tom wonders, wide-eyed and leaning close to catch a repeat of Shizuo’s hastily-delivered explanation.




Shizuo takes a deep breath and focuses hard on letting it go slowly. He’ll fly off the handle again if he doesn’t work hard not to, after all, and besides that he needs a minute to collect his thoughts for a second attempt.


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There is no if (overflow)

(Anonymous)
Original prompt:
http://drrrkink.livejournal.com/6253.html?thread=24125293#t24125293

I'd really love to see a fic where Shizuo dominates Izaya. Not in the really BDSM kind of way but more to mentally.

Basically Izaya is in complete denial about their relationship - he doesn't even think of it as a relationship, preferring to think of it as purely for sex and refuses to acknowledge it, or to admit that he cares about Shizuo. He never ever kisses Shizuo, refuses to stay at Shizuo's place everytime after they have sex and still constantly mocks and tries to hurt Shizuo, although he never really can.

Shizuo sees through all this and is quietly determined to change it. If Izaya doesn't want to come to his place, then he'll go over to Izaya's place and stay for as long as he likes. If the flea wants to hurt him, he'll let him try. If Izaya doesn't want to kiss, then he'll settle for fucking him long and slow until he can't remember his own name.

I just want to see Izaya trying to push Shizuo away but failing, cause I think that mentally, Shizuo is stronger when it comes to EQ.

Re: There is no if [19a/?]

(Anonymous)
A chill of air made Izaya stir, the coldness making his skin rise in goosebumps. He turned to the side he knew a warm body would be, but as he moved closer the bed turned colder.

Groggily he opened his eyes, blinking until they adjusted to the dark.

Shizuo?

Sitting up, he looked at the empty side of the bed and couldn't help but wonder where the blond could have gone. It was the blonds place, so he knew that Shizuo wouldn't just up and leave. He also knew that the blond wasn't working the next day, so it was odd that Shizuo wasn't spooning him.

Stretching, Izaya got out of the bed and went to search for the missing blond. Before he made it to the door though, a loud beep made him stop and look back at where his phone was.

Knowing that Mr. Gotouda would be texting him more now that they were getting closer to leaving with important information, he quickly went back and checked the message. Looking at the clock, he decided to wait until the morning to call him.

Putting his phone in his pocket Izaya went to go look for Shizuo once more.

It didn't take him long.

He found the blond in the living room and on the couch. Confused he walked closer, sensing that something was definitely wrong with the blond.

"Shizu-chan?" he asked as he walked and stopped in front of the blond. Shizuo didn't look at him, his hair covering his eyes and his hands clasped together in between his open legs. His back was slightly hunched over and Izaya noticed the blonds shoulders become tense as he said his name.

Reaching out, he put his hand on Shizuo's shoulder.

"Are you okay?" he asked, but the blond stayed quiet. Izaya was confused.

An uncomfortable silence hanged in air and it made Izaya nervous. The kind of nervous feeling he use to get when the blond was able to corner him against a wall back when they use to fight and he was trying to figure a way out quickly.

Feeling ridiculous just standing there with his hand on the blonds shoulder, he moved and sat on the other side of the couch. Facing the blond, he sat with his legs hugged to his body and he rested his head on side cushion.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Shizuo said quietly.

Right when those words came out Izaya knew. He knew exactly what was wrong and he tried to think of what to say.

"Tell you what Shizu-chan?" he answered, deciding to act dumb.

"You know what," Shizuo said seriously. His voice held no emotion and it had Izaya feeling nervous. He didn't know what Shizuo was going to do and he didn't like it.

"So you found out."

"Where you ever going to tell me.... Or where you jus-"

"No, I wasn't going to tell you. Why would I?" Izaya interrupted. This time the blond turned to him, his face looking hurt and it made something within Izaya to tighten up. But he ignored it, this was what he wanted. To make the blond suffer and break him.

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Soul Mate's (overflow)

(Anonymous)
Original Prompt:
http://drrrkink.livejournal.com/6253.html?thread=24089709#t24089709

Shizaya
hurt/comfort

Celty decides to connect Izaya and Shizuo's souls, because as a dullahan she can see that they're going to be perfect for eachother once they settle down and get a little less crazy in a few years. By binding them in this way, she thinks she's preventing them from killing eachother before they realize they're such a good match, because having a connected soul means you feel all the pain that the other person is feeling. But since Shizuo has a much higher tolerance for pain than most people, it ends up affecting Izaya in a really bad way. Every time Shizuo lifts something heavy or punches something, Izaya feels the strain and pain of it even though Shizuo is too superhuman to feel it. Being in constant pain really wears Izaya down and he gets attacked by some gang that's just been waiting for their chance. But when they start to torture him, the pain is strong enough that Shizuo does notice, and he comes to save Izaya. He finally realizes that his recklessness was one of the causes of the incident, and they gradually become closer.

Soul Mate's [22/?]

(Anonymous)
Shizuo was able to find his outlet.

Since he was on edge Tom had kindly let him take the rest of the day off. As he walked back to his apartment he found two scum bags cornering a young girl in a alleyway. Once again his fingers itched to fight especially after begging them to leave her alone.

Walking forward he made his presence known by grabbing a random trash can and hitting one of the idiots straight in the back. The force caused him to smack the wall he was facing, the girl seeing his attack moved in time and was unharmed.

Unconcerned about the girls terror, the other idiot turned and snarled at him. Shizuo smirked knowing that the piece of scum had no recognition of his legend meaning he was new to the area.

"Who the fuck are you?" the younger male said.

Shizuo didn't answer, his mind was to busy thinking about wanting to smash his head against the wall and relieve the anger welling within him. He took no notice of the bonds rapid movement or how the color became a brighter red. He was focused on his target and when the other male charged his way he got ready to fight.

In the end he felt satisfied. Surprisingly enough the idiot had been strong enough to handle his beating, but of course when he began to throw in heavy objects he coward away and it made him angrier.

He hated people that acted strong and bullied those weaker. That acted like they were impervious yet crumbled in his hands. So he didn't regret hurting either of those bastards, but he felt guilty as he watched the young girls tremble and flinch as he tried to help her up.

She pleaded with him to not hurt her and sobbed hysterically as she asked him to have mercy and a heart. His satisfaction turned sour and he left without helping her any further or saying anything else.

What he truly hated more was how he didn't have to act impervious to be strong, he just was.

Making it to his apartment, Shizuo sat silently in his couch. He felt exhausted and the way the girl had pleaded with him kept replaying in his head. The way she practically curled into herself as he walked closer to her and the terrified eyes that seemed to scream to him that he was a monster. All of it left him exhausted.

Shizuo sat there for hours too drained to do anything yet too aware of his own monstrous existence. He balled his hands up and watched them in hatred, but he knew that they weren't all to blame. A combination of uncontrolled strength and emotions made him the monster he was known to be, and hated himself for it.

His eyes moved to the bond that was calmly pulsing and looked slightly transparent with a bit of a pink tint making it glow a in his dark apartment.

Maybe Celty was right he began to think.

Maybe the only way he would ever be able to control his anger and strength was if he tried to get along with the one person that always made it impossible to do so. If he really tried his best to get along with the flea then perhaps he could finally succeed in what he always truly.

Maybe then Shizuo could live a normal life.

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Wet

(Anonymous)
I'm making a long, one-chapter fill containing Shizuo and omorashi. (Need I say more?) The original prompt can be found here:

http://drrrkink.livejournal.com/6253.html?thread=23310701#t23310701

Wet [1a/?]

(Anonymous)

“What’s wrong, Shizu-chan? You’re squirming around an awful lot.”



Shizuo responds to Izaya’s taunt by making a little sound in the back of his throat. It’s actually hard to pin a label to it – a cross between choking and whimpering, high- and then low-pitched – but Izaya is engaged enough by now not to bother himself with linguistic technicalities. It’s pleasant, that’s all, adorable and unguarded and angry – everything he likes to see in Shizuo at times like this.



“Oh,” he teases, then, and his hand ghosts up to tickle the rubbed-raw skin of Shizuo’s wrists. “Is this the problem? I’m sure Shizu-chan would have preferred metal, but – too bad! You’ll have to make do with rope for the time being.”



Shizuo’s breath catches in his throat, but he doesn’t stop glaring at Izaya.



“You fucking… drugged me,” he bites out, and the informant laughs. It’s not the first time Shizuo’s said it, of course, and it’s clear that he still hasn’t entirely wrapped his head around the concept of his situation. Honestly – how surprising is it, really? It’s his own fault for letting his guard down so completely at dinner!



(And for enjoying with just a little too much fervor the sweet, fizzy drinks Izaya’d brought home after a job earlier today, for downing one after another and never suspecting that anyone as mischievous as Izaya could be plotting anything at all, having gone so far out of his way for the sake of a pointless nicety.)



“I had to,” Izaya purrs, tone mock-defensive. “After all, Shizu-chan’d never agree to something like this on his own.”



Shizuo jerks spasmodically when Izaya’s hand suddenly drops from the blonde’s arms – still bound quite securely to the wall above his head – to lightly stroke his crotch through his pants. He barely touches him – only presses hard enough, in fact, to guarantee that Shizuo will feel it from the base of his cock to the head and back again, teasing and, if he’s doing it just right, tickling.



Shizuo takes a loud, uneven breath and then lets it go with a combined sigh and groan, so Izaya concludes that he’s done it just right, after all.



“D-don’t,” Shizuo hisses, and when Izaya’s immediate response winds up being a quick squeeze through tightening fabric, he looks like he’s about to cry. His cheeks are flushed, eyes damp and desperate. “Izaya – f-fuck – I’m gonna –”



“You’re gonna what, Shizu-chan? Cry?”



The blonde struggles away from Izaya’s hand, chest heaving – quick, shallow breaths that force him to leave his mouth open, drool escaping at one corner – and he shakes his head violently from side to side. “N-no,” he chokes out, and Izaya grins at him – has to keep his own front up, after all, but even so he’s increasingly aware of how tight his own pants are and he’s eager to get on with the show.



“If you admit to it,” he entices, “I might consider letting you go.”



Shizuo flushes impossibly darker.



“What?” Izaya continues with a little laugh. “Afraid you won’t make it already?”



“No – I can,” Shizuo stammers after a moment. He lowers his gaze, meeker now as the whole length of his body rocks again and he crosses and uncrosses his legs in a desperate bid to buy himself some time. “Just – the rope. Please.”



Izaya tries to look like he’s considering for a moment – even leans back and away from Shizuo to hold a finger to his chin in thought. For Shizuo, that means a brief reprieve from the hot gusting of his breath on the bare skin of his chest and for what must be a constant tingling as he awaits inevitable touches in unpredictable places. It’s how Izaya’s been torturing the blonde for nearly an hour, now, and it’s how Shizuo’s come this far already – desperate, half-wrecked and yet still stubborn enough to resist.



“I’d rather not,” Izaya decides, and Shizuo’s response is a sudden gasp-like release of all the air he’s been holding, waiting, in his lungs. “Don’t look at me like that,” the informant protests casually. “I’m only saying that you’ll have to do better than that, Shizu-chan. You still haven’t confessed to anything – for example, why is it such a big deal to you, anyway?”


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any way you cut it

(Anonymous)
This is a thread for a fill written in response to this request:

http://drrrkink.livejournal.com/6253.html?thread=22579821#t22579821

The request was for a coming out fic (Shizuo) set during the Raijin Era.

any way you cut it [1/?]

(Anonymous)

There’s a cheap burger place just a few blocks up from Raijin High. The food’s decent and there’s enough space there to accommodate a pretty good number of students – which means anonymity, the voices at one table mostly drowned out by the ones in a neighboring booth, reason number one that Shizuo suggests a trip down there after school.



It’s nothing big, he tells them – ‘them’ being Kadota and Shinra, probably the only two people, his brother aside, that really count as anything like friends – and he comes up with some weak justification about graduation coming up kinda soon and just why not?



He’s brought it up with Celty already. He doesn’t know her that well, really, but he can’t help placing a weird sort of trust in her; he’s relied on her advice a couple of other times, too, but this must be the most important one by far. He wasn’t gonna do anything until he knew what she thought, and now that he does know he’s sure that she won’t have said anything to Shinra.



Well – anything save for clumsily-phrased questions, maybe. If it’s that, he won’t hold it against her. She’s not like a lot of other people – like him – and he gets that she’s not always great at socializing.



He definitely gets it.



He can’t stop fidgeting in line – rolling onto the balls of his feet and then back to his heels, a repeating pattern of nervous sighs and darting eyes. He doesn’t doubt for a second that Shinra and Kadota can both tell something’s up, but he has to hope that he’s not getting on their nerves too much.



When Shinra turns back to him to ask what he wants to order, he freezes and stares and chews at his bottom lip for what could easily be a minute straight. ‘S not like he was planning on coming here to actually eat, so the question catches him stupidly off guard.



“S-strawberry milkshake,” he mumbles at last. “That’s all.”



“Hmmm? Weren’t you the one who wanted to come here, though? And you’re not actually hungry?”



“Not much,” Shizuo grunts, hand extended with a few hundred yen and some change to pay for it. “Gotta problem?”



Kadota sighs. Shinra just shakes his head perplexedly.



They find a table and take seats across from each other at it. Kadota and Shinra carry on their own conversation – pretty one-sided, actually, ‘cause Shinra’s knee-deep in one of those moods that tend to keep him from ever not talking about Celty – but Shizuo’s even less a part of the conversation than a bored-looking Kadota, completely silent almost to the point of seeming like he’s sulking about something. He doesn’t blame his friends for not going out of their way to include him – actually, he’s glad. He’s gotta work up to it on his own.



When the conversation suddenly veers away from Celty and off on a tangent that inevitably leads to a certain knife-brandishing flea, Shizuo finds that he can’t still maintain his silence – or, well, more that it’s the perfect opportunity.



He shouldn’t let it pass him by.



“A-about Izaya,” he begins suddenly, and then he reconsiders, wilts defeatedly back into the hard metal chair.



Hesitates. Again.



“Er, well – no, actually, it’s not about him…” He’s mumbling, now, staring resolutely down at his hands on the table in front of him. “I just – I have something. To. Ah, say.”



“Shizuo-kun?”



“I –” He licks his lips deliberately. “I kind of – j-just a little – uh –”



“Relax a minute,” Kadota interrupts patiently, one eyebrow raised quizzically at his classmate. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”



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not if i...

(Anonymous)
A very long and already completed fill for this prompt here:

http://drrrkink.livejournal.com/6253.html?thread=24767853#t24767853


Warning: rape, rape aftermath and graphic violence

not if i... [1a/?]

(Anonymous)

Izaya is well aware of the dangers inherent in the job he’s chosen for himself. He’s doing exceedingly well at it despite that – or because of it, maybe, and that’s more often than not what he likes to believe – and his age has earned him the additional title of prodigy in a good number of circles. It was a hindrance at first; as a fifteen-something kid claiming to deal in information known not even to some of the underground’s top brass, he was only rarely given the chance to prove his worth.



Naturally, though, he was quick to force the point. He’s ruined quite a few people in just under two years, so if he’s not fearsome he’s at least one to be approached delicately. Notoriety like that is one of his aims, and handling it with an appropriate degree of caution is an important point of pride.



And that caution doesn’t just mean keeping his drinks out of strangers’ hands, either. It probably should mean avoiding Shizu-chan and his little outbursts, but that’s not fun, and besides – he can handle Heiwajima Shizuo. The guy’s an idiot, but not really out to kill him – regardless of what he himself may say – and that’s why he’s more entertaining than anything else.



Izaya relaxes when he’s out exploring the city, too, but that’s also where the constant need to be wary comes into play. He’s not just watching for Shizuo; the corners of his eyes are perpetually trained on dark patches, shadows. Sharp corners and alleyways. When he twirls on the point of his heel to scan the sweeping panorama of his city, he’s also checking to see that no one’s tailing him.



He’s never allowed anyone to find his house and family. He’d rather not lose either of them to third-rate gangsters or power-thirsty yakuza, after all, and then he needs all of that as a safe base of operations, anyway. Pride and practicality.



There’s this: the defense he’s built, the fact of practicing hard with knives – for throwing, for making delicate, accurate cuts and startling potential attackers into dropped guards – and he’s also fast-getting-faster thanks to his near-daily running away from Shizu-chan. He makes a point of concealing his emotions, even arbitrarily. He’s perfected his poker face, and to say that he ever lets even a hint of weakness show through would be almost laughably inaccurate. Not even Shinra knows exactly what goes on in his mind.



And, for all of that, he’s almost bored to the point of apathy when it all falls through.



He can’t be quite as hyperactive, bouncy, alert when he’s with his more important clients. As a seventeen year old who probably looks more naïve than any of the hundreds of idiot adults out there, he has to be aloof and coolly polite to impress the people that surround him.



If the buttoned-up businessman – a new CEO, awfully young for his position, himself – seeing Izaya now wants to fall just a bit farther behind him than could be called purely conventional,  that’s fine. It has to be fine, because to indicate any sort of discomfort would be the same as showing fear. And he’s not afraid, not even uncomfortable.



Annoyed – that’s all.



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sgahsajflka

(Anonymous)
tHAT WAS FUCKING SAD AND BEAUTIFUL AND WHY THE HELL HAS NO ONE COMMENTED ON THIS YET SDKGJSBLKGJB

Re: sgahsajflka

(Anonymous)
shit i knew i was gonna end up putting it in the wrong place

Lock and Key (1/?)

(Anonymous)
Original prompt for Tsukumoya Shinichi x Orihara Izaya - Stalking, yandere love. Found here: http://drrrkink.livejournal.com/6253.html?thread=24897645

-----------------

It is impossible to predict the human heart.

It is impossible to predict, and it is impossible to know what a person is thinking and feeling at any given moment.

The only way to know for sure is to ask.

But then there are those who even if asked at point blank, will never tell the truth of the matter. Orihara Izaya falls quite firmly into this category. When asked he will hedge and he will mislead and he will never tell the whole truth.

This is why Tsukumoya finds him fascinating. Among all the humans he watches so carefully, Izaya is something special. One of the very few he speaks directly to, even if he mostly stays distant. Forever distant. It's not his place to interfere after all.

It's not his place to interfere but Izaya makes it so... difficult. Trying to behave and not touch something so beautiful and fascinating is torture.

But for the most part, Tsukumoya forces himself to behave.

It's hard to say when he starts noticing the little things. As seemingly random as Izaya's behaviour may be at a glance, in many ways he is a creature of habit. He will stop at the same places to people watch and order the same coffee. It's not a perfectly readable pattern. It doesn't repeat every day, or even every week or two. But with enough data points a pattern will always emerge and Tsukumoya has spent a great deal of time observing Orihara Izaya.

He can see the pattern, which makes the anomalies so much more glaring. He picks them out in an instant and perhaps it's a moment of weakness that causes him to immediately send Izaya a text.

[I thought you didn't like that much sugar.]

The response is as irritable as expected. But the fact that there is a response at all sends a quiet sort of thrill through him.

{I occasionally enjoy a change. Don't you have better things to do than stalk me?}

[You're my favourite diversion. It's interesting to see just how far I can get under your skin.]

He always views their game as his digging his way under Izaya's skin, never the opposite. He doesn't think about the fact that his fascination with Izaya is lodged so deep within him that it nearly flows through his veins. Izaya is the one being poked and taunted. Izaya is the one to react when his barbs hit their mark and dig in. And as much as he likes to hold himself distant from the rest of humanity, Izaya is still capable of all the little tics and twitches and weaknesses that make up a man.

Izaya is a perfectly, delightfully, flawed human being, and Tsukumoya will never tire of watching him. It's a compulsion. And like all compulsions it eventually takes over. Insidiously, and in such a way that Tsukumoya doesn't even notice it.

Everything else simply fades into the background.

Everything but Izaya.

Lock and Key (2/?)

(Anonymous)
Tsukumoya assures himself that it's not an obsession when his constant surveillance of Ikebukuro as a whole begins to narrow. When it stops being about how interesting the city can be and becomes nothing but how fascinating Izaya is. Following Izaya's movements from monitor to monitor while he lazily swivels from side to side in a desk chair. Sometimes he forgets to eat until late into the night, well after Izaya has gone to bed, and he'll sit there picking at a cup of instant noodles, watching Izaya sleep.

He's positive that Izaya must be aware of the bugs in his own apartment -- how can an informant of his calibre not be? And if Izaya knows then he simply must not care that Tsukumoya is watching. The thought more than enough to leave Tsukumoya quietly pleased. His feet curled up under him and he'll watch until the soothing sight of Izaya's soft breathing lulls him into a dozing state as well.

And the next day he does the same thing all over again.

It's the moments when Izaya enters his chatroom are the ones that Tsukumoya craves and waits for though; heady moments of carefully dancing around one another and dropping barbs in an intricate waltz that leaves Tsukumoya a bit breathless.

Breathless, and sometimes a little bit wanting. His hand lazily slipping inside his pants when he reads Izaya's words and he can't help but wonder what would happen if they were to ever meet face to face. Izaya wouldn't recognize him of course, if Tsukumoya were to never reveal his identity Izaya would simply continue on in complete ignorance.

But if Izaya were to know... well, he can't help but wonder how things would turn out.


Orihara Izaya
Ah, Tsukumoya, you're so quiet tonight. Distracted?~

....

Tsukumoya Shinichi
Hmm? Not at all. I'm simply considering your request.


He will never admit to weakness. He will never let even the slightest hint that at the moment his breathing is ragged while his hand slides against his cock in lazy strokes. He will not admit to the images in the back of his mind: Izaya kneeling in front of him all drooling and needy, Tsukumoya forcing his cock down Izaya's throat. So tight. So hot.

If they were to ever meet Tsukumoya would make Izaya his.

No.

Izaya is his. This is an absolute truth. As a person Izaya is a complicated tangle and Tsukumoya is the only one who can even begin to understand what drives him. He is the only one to understand and as such he is the only one who deserves to know Izaya.

He is the only one who can truly love Izaya for the dangerous, complicated, mess that he is.


Orihara Izaya
Tsukumoya~ You're starting to bore me. If you don't have anything I can use right now I'm going to leave.


A harsh hiss escapes from between Tsukumoya's teeth at Izaya's parting shot, his hips twitching upwards a bit and he bites back a sharp cry as he comes. His breathing sharp and ragged and he glowers at the screen, seething a little at the line of text that is almost taunting him.


Orihara Izaya, confirmed dead!



Izaya should not be able to simply stroll in and out of Tsukumoya's domain as he pleases.

It's infuriating that Izaya doesn't realize -- is too arrogant to realize -- how similar they really are. They are one in the same and Izaya should cherish that. He should appreciate every single moment of their contact. He should stop lavishing all of his affection on humanity at large because humanity will never understand him.

The only one who will ever understand Izaya is Tsukumoya.

The only one who will ever love Izaya is Tsukumoya.

His eyes flick shut as he tries to catch his breath and considers the truth of that fact. As much as he dislikes the word 'love' in regards to anything, it is at its core accurate.

He loves Izaya just as Izaya 'loves' humanity. Not in any grand romantic sense, but as something strange and curious to hold dear. Something that he views as his and his alone.

Izaya should never be able to simply shrug Tsukumoya aside and move on. Never.

That night, as he cleans up the come spattered across his stomach, Tsukumoya decides that it is time to make that point plainly known.

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