chickensoup-4-mysoul

[chickensoup-4-mysoul]

herculean (drrr x f!reader)

Chapter 8 - Love and Care

synopsis: slasher attacks are occurring more and more around ikebukuro, and when anri gets caught in the crosshairs, you commit yourself to keeping your friends safe. that is, until its not just your friends that need protecting.

word count: 3,554

warnings: canon-typical violence, saika stuff, knives etc.

"and i pour my heart a new foundation but it don't set hard, it just stays shaking and i scratch my name, i scratch my name in but it don't set hard, it gets mixed back in,,

o my heart - mother mother

Anri was never very quick to answer your texts. You didn't hold it against her, assuming that she was just the type of person that didn't check her phone very often. Right now, though, you wished she had checked it all the time, took less than a minute to respond. As your vision of the phone screen blurs, you realize that your hands are trembling. For the love of god, please answer, Anri!!

Kanra: Did you guys hear? Rumor has it, some first years at Raira were attacked by the slasher!

You and Setton both left hastily before Kanra could explain more. The pounding of your heart could practically be heard in your ears as you quickly texted your younger friend. Was she okay?? Were the boys okay?? The girl had yet to get back to you and every minute that passed was excruciating. After a while, you decided that calling could be better. Pressing the phone to your ear, you chewed your lip anxiously. It rang...and rang.... and rang.... and rang...

"Hello?" You could cry.

"Anri!! I'm so glad that you're okay!! I just heard about the slashing that happened and I got so worried about you and the boys! None of you were involved, were you? No one got hurt?"

There's a brief silence and your heart drops. "...Masaomi and Mikado are fine, they had nothing to do with it. I'm fine too, I promise...but I was there during the attack."

"What!? Where are you right now??" You try to keep your voice level to avoid stressing her out further, but it takes a lot of effort.

"I'm at the police station. Mikado and Masaomi are about to walk me home."

That was good, there was someone there to comfort her. You sigh, happy to have at least slightly calmed your nerves. "Okay, well I'd hate to get you worked up after all of that. Hope you get home alright, and sleep well!" You wish you could see her right now. Hopefully, surrounded by her friends, she could smile and find it in herself to recover. "Oh, and Anri?"

"Hm?"

"Wait for me the next time school let's out, okay? I'm going to walk you home."

...

"E-Excuse me, miss!!"

A tall, disheveled man with kind eyes stands before you. He's almost apologetic, as if he had to muster up the courage to approach you. "Yes, can I help you?" You were currently out running errands. Part of the independent life also came with the maintenance of your entire apartment. A lightbulb needed to be replaced, you needed a new filter for your air conditioning, and you accidentally broke one of the vases holding your favorite houseplant. Amidst all the chaos, the domestic task was definitely therapeutic. However, you guess that a day can't go by where something interesting doesn't happen. "Would you happen to be (Y/N) Brigall?"

Your eyes widen to the size of saucers. Who was this man--a stalker? Was he here to hurt you? You were in broad daylight, surrounded by people. Surely no one would be foolish enough to try such a thing! "I-I'm sorry... have we met? How do you know me?" you ask, carefully inching away from the man. He seems to panic at this, holding up his hands in a surrendering gesture. "Please don't be alarmed! It was a guess, I was searching for a young, fashionably-dressed foreign woman." He reads this from a notepad he had pulled from the pocket of his trench coat. "Embarrassingly enough, it did take me a couple of tries to find you, but I'm so glad I did!"

To your relief, he explains that he is Shuuji Niekawa, a reporter for a tabloid called Tokyo Warrior. So he was in journalism, how exciting!! He gains more confidence from your positive response. It was most certainly the kindest response he had gotten to that introduction. Maybe he should have turned to more women after-all. "I'm working on a new column and I am on the hunt for the strongest guy-- er, person in Ikebukuro and I was wondering if you'd be open to helping me out?" You light up at the idea of being in a magazine. Granted, Tokyo Disaster may be different from all of the fashion tabloids you read, but it was something!

"Hm, who do I think is the strongest person in Ikebukuro? Well, I'm sure you've heard over and over about Shizuo Heiwajima, but I know this one guy, he's super underrated! His name is Ky--!"

"Oh, no! Sorry, maybe I wasn't clear enough." He stops you. You quirk an eyebrow at him in confusion. How else were you supposed to help? "I wanted to hear from you as a candidate! As the woman who won in a fight with the Shizuo Heiwajima!" What?? Sorry, what did you do?? You don't realize that you've burst into laughter, garnering the attention of many passerby. Regaining your composure, you apologize to the man.

"Sorry--Mr. Niekawa? It seems that we've been caught up in a bit of a misunderstanding."

"What? No, it can't be! I have several eyewitness accounts of you taking a direct hit from Shizuo Heiwajima and coming out victorious!"

"See, that's not true-- I had to see a doctor afterwards! I didn't even land a hit on the guy, how does that count as winning a fight?" The man's face drops, his kind eyes now pleading. It breaks your heart,  how desperate he seems.

"W-well, if these people seemed to think so, then anyone reading the column would think so! Not everything in every column is completely true. Please, give me something."

"I'm sorry, but I'm not comfortable lying to so many people. I wish you the best with finishing your column!" You speed away from him, avoiding his disappointed gaze. That poor guy, he must really need this column to work out. You had meant it, hopefully he gets the best interview in the world and the column becomes world famous.

Now, you had a houseplant to find!

...

The guilt of snubbing that guy from earlier was still getting to you. Maybe if you could help him in another way, you'd feel better!

Sora:  Have you guys heard of this tabloid called Tokyo Warrior ? Taro Tanaka: That action magazine? Are you into that kind of thing, Sora? Setton: I think I've heard of what you're talking about, Sora. Sora: I haven't exactly read it before, but I've heard there's a new column coming out! Sora: "The Strongest Man in Ikebukuro."  Sounds cool, doesn't it? I'll definitely be giving it a look when it comes out! Kanra: I dunno if you'll ever get to, Sora. Sora: What? What do you mean? Kanra: Haven't you guys heard? The Slasher took its next victim! Kanra: Shuuji Niekawa--a reporter for that magazine. Kanra: Wasn't he the one writing that column??

It feels as though your heart is in your throat. The feeling that overcomes you is hard to describe, but nausea wouldn't be far off. Your fingers are frozen, unable to type any of the questions swirling around in your head. Luckily, Setton expresses your exact thoughts.

Setton: Is he okay!? Taro Tanaka: Setton, do you know him? Setton: No... Setton: Now that I've heard his name, I remember that I really like his articles. Taro Tanaka: Really scary, though. Taro Tanaka: Sora, are you okay? Sounds like you were a fan.

You wish you could meet Taro. He seemed like such a cool guy, always looking out for others. Setton was the same. Kanra was... a character. If you all planned to meet one day, you guess she'd have to be invited too...

Sora: Yes, no worries!! I just hope that, whoever is behind this, they get caught soon. Setton: Yeah, I hope the cops catch him.

Saika has entered the chat.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes. Not this person again. She(?) had joined the chat before, but all she did was spam a bunch of creepy jargon--stuff about 'loving' and 'cutting'. It was very unsettling. You thought that Kanra had blocked her or something.

Kanra: SHE'S BACK!!!! џ(ºДºџ) Saika: Cut. Today. Kanra: I'm the one that wants to cut YOU. Saika: But not yet. Someone strong. Setton: Saika, how are you? Kanra: No point talking to it, it won't respond! Saika: Sure that I have to cut. Taro Tanaka: This is creepy. Sora: I might have nightmares about this... Taro Tanaka: Yeah, with all this cutting talk, maybe SHE'S the Slasher! Kanra: Not a chance! Saika: Someone strong. Saika: Need to love them. It is my goal. Saika: Yes, my goal to love.

God, what sort of messed up person was behind this? Perhaps it was a bot or some sort of virus. Honestly, nothing real would talk so openly about stuff so ridiculous. It was some sort of comfort to know it was all probably some silly prank. You're pulled from your thoughts by Saika's continued rambling. The appearance of a certain name makes your heart stop.

Saika: Shizuo. Setton: Huh? Sora: What!? Saika: Shizuo Heiwajima. Taro Tanaka: Saika, are you a friend of Shizuo Heiwajima? Saika: Heiwajima. Saika: Heiwajima.Heiwajima.Heiwajima.Heiwajima.Heiwajima.Heiwajima.Heiwajima.Heiwajima.Heiwajima.Heiwajima.Heiwajima.Heiwajima.Heiwajima.Heiwajima. Saika: Shizuo. Shizuo. Shizuo. Shizuo. Shizuo. Shizuo. Shizuo. Shizuo. Shizuo. Shizuo. Shizuo. Shizuo. Shizuo. Shizuo. Shizuo. Shizuo.

Your blood runs cold at the sight of your friend's name over and over. Just by looking at the text, you could see that Saika was in a frenzy, rabid over the idea of Shizuo. Something like that--it couldn't be a bot. It couldn't get any worse.

Saika:  But i need more. More strength. Saika: Someone strong. Someone Stronger Saika: (Y/N). Setton: WHAT!? Taro Tanaka: How do you know (Y/N)??? Saika: (Y/N) Brigall. Saika: Brigall Brigall Brigall Brigall Brigall Brigall Brigall Brigall Brigall Brigall Brigall Brigall Brigall Brigall Brigall Brigall Brigall Brigall Brigall Brigall Brigall Brigall Saika: (Y/N) (Y/N) (Y/N) (Y/N) (Y/N) (Y/N) (Y/N) (Y/N) (Y/N) (Y/N) (Y/N) (Y/N) (Y/N) (Y/N). Saika: Love Shizuo. Cut (Y/N). Saika: Mother's wish. Love. Brigall. Cut. Heiwajima. Heiwajima. Saika: Shizuo. Mother's wish. (Y/N) and I. Shizuo and (Y/N). Love Love Love.

You left the chat, not bothering to say goodbye. A cold sweat overtook your body, drenching you in a matter of seconds. Why...? What had you done? Shizuo had most likely garnered all sorts of enemies, what with his profession, but you...? You had never spited anyone, you thought. Who would want to cut you... to target you like this??

That night, you slept with the covers over your head. You put on a funny podcast to fall asleep to in hopes of warding off any nightmares. The last thing you needed was another scare to psyche you out. After all, you need to walk your friends home from school tomorrow.

...

Many would find Masaomi's excessive energy to be annoying, but today, you were especially thankful for the distraction. However, not even that could distract you from how strange Anri was acting. While the girl was always quiet, there was an odd look in her eyes--she was definitely preoccupied. As Masaomi gladly filled the silence, you locked eyes with Mikado. Seemed that he noticed as well. Once the four of you reached a point where it was time to go separate ways, you decided to go with Anri.

"W-wait!" Mikado exclaims just as the two of you prepare to leave, "Maybe I should go with you!" You laugh, assuming that he's worried about Anri. However, you notice his gaze flitting between the both of you, occasionally lingering in your direction. Confused by his attention on you, you smile at him in reassurance.

"Don't be ridiculous. All that walking back and forth would be such a hassle, and it's late! Anri's house is on the way to mine, so this is just easiest. You two should definitely be safe, though." You're already taking Anri's hand and leading her away before the boy can protest anymore. Afterall, it had been a long week for the girl and she needed her rest.

Once the two of you were at a safe distance you released the girl's hand, walking at a relaxed pace beside her. "You've been quiet, Anri. I mean--you're always quiet, but I can tell something's up. Something on your mind?" Her face flushes lightly at your question. "Oh...sorry to worry you. It's nothing, I promise." It's obviously not nothing. You don't want to pry though, so you let it go. It had been a while since you had walked to Anri's place, so you let her take the lead. However, the walk goes on for way longer than you expected--maybe the walk home from the school was just longer? You don't remember having to pass a police station, though.

"Ladies, it's very late. I would encourage you both to head back home," an officer approaches the two of you, his partner in tow.

"Thank you, officer. We were just heading home."

The men kindly offered to escort the two of you. Honestly, with recent events, you weren't too opposed to the idea. However, they got a call and had to leave. You wondered if you should just wait at the box and take their offer, but Anri has already continued walking. Well, guess that idea was out of the question.

"Wonder what that fight was about? Think it was another gang?" You try to make light conversation to ease both your and her nerves. She's entertaining your sad attempts at conversation, giving short, detached answers. Well, she was probably tired. You were just glad to be here to keep her safe. However, as the thought crossed your mind, you couldn't help but wonder: what would you do if something went wrong? You weren't the best fighter and you certainly weren't that strong. The most training you had was all of those self defense videos you had binged on the internet. You reviewed them in your head--what do you do if someone came at you with a sharp weapon?? Control the distance, watch the hands, run if you can--

Your phone vibrates in your pocket. Who could be texting you at this hour? Trying not to be rude, you discreetly check it. You struggle to hold in your own gasp as you read Kyohei's text.

KYOHEI Hey. We just passed you on the road and there's this guy following you. I don't know what he could be trying to do, but it doesn't look good. Be careful.

Zeroing in on the silent night, you can hear it. Another set of footsteps trailing behind you. They were slow, but steady, in a hot pursuit. You apologize to Anri, claiming that it was an important message.

ME Thanks for looking out. If I get my friend to a safe place, anyway you can help me?

His response is immediate. You could always trust Kyohei to have your back.

KYOHEI Of course. Circling back now.

As you try to collect yourself--you were most likely in danger, but you had to keep it together for your friend's sake--you notice that Anri has stopped walking again. The two of you stood at a crosswalk, a flickering streetlamp serving as the only light. A feeling of panic overtakes you. It takes every bone in your body not to take a look at the surely approaching form behind the two of you. "A-anri, I know it's been a bit of long walk, but I'm sure there's not much longer to go! Let's keep moving," you urge her subtly, gently taking her wrist and attempting to pull her ahead. All you had to do was get her a little further, to the nearest road where the van gang could pull up. However, she didn't move much, instead shaking her head as if recovering from some sort of daze. "What am I doing...?" she mutters, eyes glued to the wall before the two of you.

The sound of heavy footfalls instantly grabs your attention, and Anri's as well. You both turn to see a man, but not just any man. It was the same disheveled man with the kind eyes that you had talked to the day prior. However, his eyes were certainly not kind now. No, now they were shining bright red, empty of any feeling. The other glaring difference about him was that he donned a glittering butcher knife, pointed at the two of you--intent to kill. Anri whimpers from beside you, no doubtedly frozen in her spot. You couldn't say you were much better. Then, you hear it. The sound of burning tires that only one angry driver could make, accompanied by the growing intensity of a white light. You pull Anri back against the wall with you, trying to increase the space between the two of you and the man, who was steadily approaching, eyes shining and knife raised above his head.

The panicked ringing in your head is almost louder than the collision of body and van. The man goes flying as the van skids to a stop, already doing it's damage. He crashes into a nearby wall, collapsing to the floor and dropping the knife. Anri breathes a sigh of relief at the same time that you do. You wrap an arm around her shoulders, thankful that the two of you were okay. Walker yells at Kyohei from a distance--something about a 'peaceful life'. You internally hope that the man was still alive. Well, as Kyohei said, it was self defense. Still, you couldn't stop the aching in your heart. He had seemed so kind when you were speaking to him.

However, the way he was up now, laughing maniacally, knife swinging in a frenzy, was anything but kind. The van gang scattered away from him, avoiding his blade. Through the space, you see his eyes lock on you and Anri. In a flash, he's speeding towards you with increasing ferocity. Everything you had tried to remember about defense against a knife was not coming in handy now. Maintain a distance? There was a wall behind you! Watch the hands? Oh, you could see them alright, and man were they fast!

"(Y/N)! Run!" It was Kyohei's voice. You turned to Anri, hands on her shoulders as you tried to push the small girl away. If she booked it to the side, he couldn't get both of you. She wouldn't budge, and though you never thought you could get mad at the girl, your frustration was steadily increasing. All she could do was stare at you with wide saucer eyes. "Anri, you have to run!" you finally yell. She shakes her head, lip trembling.

"B-but, (Y/N)...!" Her eyes switch between you and something behind you and you finally notice it. An overwhelming presence behind you, heaving uneven breaths and grunting--and a pressure in your lower back. It was uncomfortable, like someone using a singular finger to poke you uncomfortably hard. You try to see what it was, but all you see are piercing red eyes and a sick, empty smile. It's almost like you're in a movie and someone has pressed pause--how he only stares at you and you are suddenly frozen in place. However, the moment is broken when his smile drops, as if realizing something. Then he snarls at you and the pressure increases.

The sound of tires, skidding across concrete roads was loud to you ears. This skidding was not anything you had heard before. It was high pitched and weirdly reminded you of a horses whinny. Something dark flies over you, slamming into the man's face and knocking him into the same wall he had hit only moments before. Two figures land in front of you, weirdly enough, both with yellow heads.

"Sh-Shizuo?? Celty!!" you realize. Shizuo's eyes widen upon seeing you, muttering your name in astonishment. You hear Kyohei mention a 'Headless Rider' and your mind reels with so many thoughts. However, Erika shrieks, signaling that the Slasher--no way this wasn't the slasher--was up again. However, he's not as feral now, standing in place and staring you all down creepily.

"So many loves in one place...you're Shizuo Heiwajima....I've been looking for you...!" He's reeling again, swinging the knife too and fro, but he continues to ramble. "But who do I go for first...? I love you, Shizuo!! So, so, so, so, much!! But Brigall needs love too! Love, love, love Heiwajima! Love (Y/N)!"

You had been on edge all day and it had affected you physically. Trembling, sweating, throat running dry.... but the way he had said your name, how everyone's eyes darted to you--everything stopped, time stopped. It was how Saika talked... so it really had been the Slasher. As Shizuo stood there, cool as a cucumber, it was obvious just how different the two of you were. That thing was after him too, but all he did was smile one of his signature smiles, coolly saunter up to Saburo's van and... rip the door off. You could already hear Saburo's cries.

If getting hit by a van, and then a motorcycle didn't thoroughly incapacitate that man, Shizuo driving him straight into the wall with an entire van door had to. Your entire body winced at the sound of crushed bones. It was no harder than crushing a bug to him. That was one way to stop him, you guess.

#durarara #durarara x reader #drrr x reader #shizuo heiwajima #shizuo heiwajima x reader #durarara imagines #anri sonohara #celty sturluson #erika karisawa #erika karisawa x reader #kyohei kadota #kyohei kadota x reader #izaya orihara x reader

[chickensoup-4-mysoul]

Me screeching "GET 'EM GET 'EM GET 'EM!" reading chapter 32 of Herculean! Yeah kisses and all that are good and all, but it's the protective panic and "i'm gonna fuck someone up" attitude that gets to me. Nobody writes fanfics like that anymore. Thank you!

i rlly appreciate that bc the most romantic thing to me is when someone is willing to whoop ass in my honor😌😌so pls prepare for some ass whooping!!!

#ask

[chickensoup-4-mysoul]

herculean(drrr x f! reader)

chapter 6/7 - Her Savior / Concert Bootlegs and Domestic Arguments

synopsis: you stumble across a mysterious chatroom and password-protected website / you spend a day with an unexpected person!

word count: 4,975 words

a/n: an amalgamate chapter for you! 

warnings: N/A

"after all the things were said the mystery has gone from my head i thought that i had worked it out now i know what love is about,,

mysterious vibes - blackbyrds

....lia......

...m....ly........

..n..c..a.......

.......(Y/N)!

"(Y/N)!"

Your vision returns in waves, spotting in and out like a photo being set aflame. The first sensation to reach your consciousness is the thin layer of paper covering your body. It does little to soothe the shivers racking your body, yet you still felt so so  hot . A face begins to form in front of you. It's so blurry, but you begin to make out the sharp frames of glasses. Sickly pale, almost translucent skin. Thin, shoulder-length hair with scruffy facial hair to match. This was the face of.... the face of...

"I'm so glad you're alright, honey."

Honey...? Who was honey? Was that you? Your name...?

You pull yourself up into a sitting position, taking in how your bones seemed to creak with each movement. A pulse swells in your temple at the sudden exposure to a bright light and you hiss. "Where am I? W-who are you?"

Vision still blurry, the person beside you isn't completely clear. A look of surprise melts into an affectionate smile. You feel a hand caress your the side of your damp forehead, fingers dry and cracked and calloused. "It's me, sweetheart. It's your father, you're at home. Darling, you were hurt very badly."

"It's odd...out of everything that I could have remembered, I do remember getting hit by that car," you reflect, now lost in the memory, "Anyway, Father took extra special care to restore me as much as he could. I met with all sorts of special teachers over video call and he made sure that I read tons of books and watch a lot of TV. I was so busy all of the time that I never really had time to go out and interact with other teenagers. It doesn't completely fill the gap, but eventually it started to feel like I had never lost my memory in the first place!"

You couldn't even imagine the pain that your father was going through. It must have been hard enough as it is as a single father, raising an adopted daughter. With you suffering from amnesia on top of that, he must have garnered so much judgement from onlookers. But he persevered, and raised you back to health in the most intelligent way possible. He gave you a second--no, third chance at life and you owed him the entire world for that.

"I'm really sorry that you had to go through that." Anri's voice pulls you from a trance you hadn't realized you were in.

"Oh, don't worry about me. I'm doing great now. And hey, the best thing to come out of all of this? All of those magazines that Father had me read are how I got into fashion! Well, apparently I always loved fashion--but they helped me get my skills back!" You hadn't meant to drown the girl's spirits in your tragic backstory. It had felt good to get off of your chest and it seemed that it didn't change her opinion of you. "So, Erika and I may be some of your first friends, Anri, but technically, you two are some of mine! Instead of worrying about the past, let's make as many memories as we can right now. Deal?"

Anri stares at the hand you offer her, stunned by your spontaneous life lesson. Shaking it off with a smile, she accepts the handshake, smiling with the most determination you had ever seen her muster. "Deal."

...

As the two of you left Erika's apartment, you can't help be feel like you're both taking a walk of shame, donning the same clothes you wore when you had arrived last night. Anri's home actually turns out to be on the way to yours, so you drop her off before heading home. The first order of business was a shower, a cozier set of PJs, and perhaps a couple more hours of sleep. Erika's air mattress was alright, but you would die if you didn't get some time wrapped up in your own sheets as well.

You're proud to say that you only slept an additional 2 hours, and you still had 8 hours until sundown. Maybe you had a bit of a sleep cycle issue. You grab your phone from the night stand, ready for your routine morning-scroll. However, you notice that you have a notification. Opening the bubble, you realize that it was three messages from the same number.

It hadn't been saved yet, you noticed, and there was no history of previous calls or messages. Your skepticism rised at the sight of three internet links. What if it was some sort of virus? You opened up a search engine and looked up the title of the first link: SubaGen. The top result was for an app, one that you could download onto your phone or laptop.

Instant text translator; Type your messages in your language and watch as everyone instantly understands you!

Wow, this seems really useful! You wish you had found something like this sooner. Even with your education, your typing speed during text conversations with your friends still needed quite a bit of work. It seemed that this app would help you type must faster! After confirming that the app itself was not, in fact, a virus, you downloaded it onto your phone and made a mental note to download it onto your laptop as well.

You were now a bit more trusting of the unknown number now, wondering if they were some sort of advertisement robot that had randomly typed your number. The second link has no obvious title amongst the stream of numbers and letters. However, it still had the format of a typical url, and clicking on it opened up your phone's internet browser.

It took you to a page with a simple black background. There's no title anywhere on the screen, just a white typing bar labeled "Screen Name", and a scrolling option menu full of different colored squares and fun-shaped avatars. Was this some type of forum? You randomly pick a purple square and one of the avatars with a cute pair of angel wings on it. After typing in a screen name, you hit the "Enter" button and watch as you're taken to another black screen. At the very bottom reads a simple white text.

Sora has entered the chat.

The screen is not empty for long, however, as an orange icon and speech bubble pop up, followed by blue, followed by black.

Kanra:  Hey, hey, HEY!! Who is this!? Taro Tanaka: Sora...? Setton:  It's been a while since we've had someone new.

The text is in english, you notice, and you wonder if these people are speaking it, or if that app you had downloaded was working its magic. No new messages appear for a moment and you realize that they're waiting for you to say something.

Sora: Hello! Sora: I'm not intruding, am I? Setton: Don't worry about it. You had the link, so I guess you were meant to be here Kanra: Yeah, who did send him the link!? ΣΣ(ﾟДﾟ;)

'Him'? That's funny, they seemed to think that you were a boy. You decide to go along with it, thinking that maintaining a persona would be fun.

Taro Tanaka: So Sora, the three of us happen to be in Ikebukuro. Any chance you'd be around that area? Sora: Yes, I am! What an odd agreement! Sora: Coincidence, I mean. Setton: Looks like you got the writing mixed up, haha. Happens to me sometimes too. Kanra: Still, seems like a rookie mistake that a foreigner would make! Kanra: You wouldn't happen to be a foreigner, would you? (ʘᗩʘ’)

Well, shoot, so much for the persona. This darn app had gone a blown your cover for you! Guess it wasn't always 100% accurate. A small window pops up on your screen, drawing your attention. The black speech bubble alerts you that it's Setton.

Setton: Kanra's always like this. Hope she doesn't scare you off. Not that I'm assuming that you are, but I'm actually a foreigner myself, so no judgement here. :) Sora: That actually means a lot, thanks!

Sora: Nope, just a typo. Just woke up from a nap. Kanra: A nap, huh? Must be in a reaaal peaceful part of Ikebukuro, then! Kanra: Speaking of peaceful, have you all heard? Kanra: There was a gang war today! Taro Tanaka: What!? Setton: Really!? Kanra: Yup, at least, that depends... Kanra: On whether or not Shizuo Heiwajima is really in the Dollars.

There goes his name again. You would have been surprised by the revelation, but it's not hard to believe that Shizuo had gotten into another battle of some sorts. However, the idea that the man was in a gang?? That was ridiculous! Kanra explained how members of the "Yellow Scarves" (Another gang? That name was kinda cheesy) had picked a fight with Shizuo, believing that taking him down would give them some sort of leverage against the Dollars. Shaking your head, you interrupt Kanra's spiel.

Sora: No way Shizuo would be part of something as petty as a color gang. Kanra: Hmm??? Defending his honor are we?? (・о・) Taro Tanaka: Sora, do you know Shizuo??

YOU WERE SO BAD AT THIS. God, now you know that if given the chance, fleeing the country and changing your identity was not a good option.

Sora: Of course not! I just don't see why someone so strong would need the protection of a gang! Kanra: Maybe with a normal scrappy color gang, but with the dollars it'd be different. Setton: What do you mean, Kanra? Kanra: I mean, the Dollars aren't all about showing off muscle and starting fights. They've been linked to a lot of acts of heroism around Ikebukuro! Sure, there are probably a few strays, but it's clear what the Dollars are really about! Taro Tanaka: You really think that, Kanra? Kanra: But even then, they must have done something to really piss off the Yellow Scarves to make them try and target Shizuo Heiwajima!

The way that she said his name irked you, as if he was some sort of urban legend and not a real life person. You avoided jumping to his defense again in fear of blowing your cover.

You spent hours chatting with your new friends. Kanra was a bit of a big mouth and a gossip, but you felt as though you were learning more from her now than you had since you first got to Ikebukuro. Sure, the van gang hinted you about the gang wars and slashings, but Kanra explained them in great detail. How color gangs were making a resurgence about the city. How there was an urban legend about a headless rider that many were recently starting to claim were true. When she described the rider, you couldn't help but picture the mysterious woman you had recently met.

Setton and Taro, probably having heard all of this many times before, made their leave, kindly giving their goodbyes and nice to meet you's before leaving the chat.

Kanra: Honestly, Sora, it's hard to believe that you didn't know about all of this! Sora: I don't get out much. Can I ask you one more thing? Kanra: ఠ_ఠ Sora: Can you tell me about Izaya Orihara??

You were a curious sort...almost nosy, you admit it. Even after Erika's plain explanation, the man's name still lingered on your mind. He was a jerk, right. He had dirt on everyone, true. Nobody liked him, okay. Still, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something about him. An itching to learn everything that you possibly could. It was all of those detective shows you were watching.

Kanra: Hmmm, not really! Maybe you should just meet him yourself!

Kanra has left the chat.

Well, goodbye, you guess. You sigh, letting your phone drop onto the bed and rubbing your now bleary eyes. That much screen time was most definitely not good for you. With how late it's gotten, you treat yourself to another good ole in. After ordering some delivery, you extract yourself from your bed and migrate to the couch in the entertainment space.  As you're scrolling through different movie options, you suddenly remember the third message that the unknown number had sent you.

It seemed that the source was trustworthy. Afterall, it had led you to a really useful app, as well as a way to communicate with new people that were also in the area. Maybe the third link would yield equally pleasant results. As you scroll back to the message, you notice that right under the link is the word "baccano". Maybe another weirdly specific app?

The link took you to yet another black page. However, what was most striking was the white symbol that overtook most of the screen. A large circle with the word DOLLARS on it, written in small multicolored dots. The name instantly stood out to you, identical to that of the gang that Kanra had been talking about. You stare at the page, battling the inner conflict rising within you. You would admit; the app was useful and the chatroom was fun, but what could you possibly want to do with a gang? Granted, it wasn't any old sort of gang if what Kanra said was true. It was a "good" gang.

Besides, the website seemed to be password protected! No way you could have anything to do with it, how could you ever get the password...?? ...

You relent, typing in the one word that might work.

baccano

The bar disappears, replaced by a spinning, dotted circle. Then...

W e l c o m e .

Looks like you're doing this.

...

"but when she made me laugh doom doom right to my tomb i love that it's not hard to be in a place where laughing's easy,,

goodie bag - still woozy

Over the past couple of weeks, you had gotten pretty close to the van gang. While it seemed like Kyohei was the only one with his head screwed on properly, they were all surprisingly wise in their own special ways. You're sure that without them by your side, you would not have adjusted to new life in Ikebukuro nearly as easily. That being said, you had to admit that you may have gotten closer to some than others. Erika, as one of your few female friends, was easiest to get close to. Kyohei was open to you from the moment that the two of you met, and was kind enough to engage in conversation with you whenever Walker and Erika were off on another one of their tirades. Even Walker, who often sat next to you when you were stuffed into the back of the van together, had familiarized himself with you.

Not nearly as much could be said for the driver of said van. Saburo was talkative enough during your group hangouts, sure, but you hadn't gotten any one on one time with him at all. This was all that you could think of as you occupied Kyohei's usual position, sitting at Saburo's left side as he silently drove his beloved van. You had asked the gang about going on one of your usual hangouts, but for what felt like the first time (at least since you had met them), everyone had work. They all had such niche professions, Kyohei as a carpenter, Erika as a jewelry maker, and Walker as an ice sculptor, but they were still oddly fitting. You didn't say this because it was so obviously offensive, but you couldn't help but find it just as fitting that Saburo was...er....unemployed.

When Saburo was the only one that didn't claim to have plans, you didn't see any reason not to just hang out with him. He seemed nice enough, you were sure you guys would get along fine in no time. However, the moment you opened the van door to meet his sharp silent gaze and he greeted you with a simple nod, you worried that there were going to be problems. As you enjoyed(?) the painfully silent ride, you realized that the two of you hadn't even made a decision as to what it was you were going to do. For now, you settled for not so subtly sneaking glances at him. His features were distinct from the other males in his social circle, you noticed. Unlike Kyohei's rugged, masculine features and Walker's boyish, youthful face, Saburo's face was sharp and almost feminine?? but really nice. Framed by the long locks of his hair, you'd call it pretty if he wouldn't be super weirded out by that.

You're foolish to think that just because his eyes are on the road, he wouldn't notice you deconstructing his entire facial structure. His pupils flick over to your direction for a second and of course, you don't look away fast enough for him not to catch you. You force a laugh before he can say anything. "Do you like music? I could really go for some music right now! What kind of music do you like???" He shrugs, tilting his head toward the compartment right in front of you.

"The guys are always talkin', so I don't really have music on that often. Might be a CD in there somewhere."

Taking that as permission, you hesitantly open the glove compartment. It's surprisingly empty, save for a small black book, a thick packet, and a sleeve of CDs. You pick up the sleeve and randomly pull one out, finding the CD slot and pushing it in. It wasn't labeled, but whatever it was, it didn't matter to you, as long as you could listen to something. However, whatever you were preparing yourself to hear, it certainly wasn't this.

The light, melodic jingle of a girl's voice. It was oddly... poppy??? For anything that Saburo would have. "Uh, does Erika keep her stuff in here sometimes?" Saburo quirks an eyebrow in your direction. "No, everything in here is mine." You mutter a quiet 'oh', deciding not to question further. This is the music he liked, huh...? Now that you thought about it, you did remember Walker and Erika teasing him about his apparent obsession with some singer girl. Just how obsessed with her was he?

"It's catchy! I don't think I've heard music like this before," you admit.

"You think so!?" He's the loudest you've heard him since he started cursing out that guy who almost hit him on the road, with a look in his eyes you've only ever seen on Walker and Erika. You deeply concerned by the fact that his focus is very much not on the road, but you relish in the feeling of seeing him so excited. "You're absolutely right! Nobody makes music like Ruri!"

That's it, Ruri was her name! Ruri Hijiribe, you think. You smile, definitely seeing how starstruck he was. You may have just found a way in. "Yeah, she has a beautiful voice. Any idea where I could listen to more of her music?"

The van skids to a stop. You're barely able to keep yourself from flying into the dashboard, yelping in surprise as you lurch forward. Peeking at one of the sideview mirrors, you notice that he's stopped on the side of the road. When you look back at Saburo you squeal. He's leaning over the middle console, not necessarily invading your personal space, but certainly a lot closer than you'd ever expect him to be.

"Do you mean that?" You have no idea why he sounds so serious, or why he's whispering, for that matter. You do, however, notice for the first time how intense his gaze is, the sharpness of his eyes eliciting feelings from you that you would rather not be feeling right now.

"Um, y-yeah!" your voice cracks and you hate yourself. "I'm always down for some new music."

Maybe it was because of the unfamiliarity, or the plain fact that he was a man, but you never really expected to visit Saburo's apartment, let alone have it be the first home of a man's you'd ever visited. It was small and...neater than you expected (you needed to be more forgiving in your standards for this guy). However, you had very little time to properly inspect it as Saburo practically dragged you to the couch (no you were not flustered by his grasp on your wrist) and slammed a CD player down on the coffee table in front of you. From one of the drawers on the TV stand, he pulled out another sleeve of CDs.

You were in for a very long night. It wasn't unenjoyable, you admit. Saburo talked you through hours of Ruri Hijiribe's discography. It was astounding to you that a single artist could produce so much music. When you say this to him, he's very obviously pleased. After CD's, you move on to music videos, and from those, you move on to recordings of her live performance. This segment, now with something for you to look at, was much more tolerable. You even began to join Saburo in his wonder, openly commenting on the designs of Ruri Hijiribe's costumes. He seemed to like whenever you had something nice to say, so you didn't bother holding back your comments.

"I just adore that body piece! It's very girly, but the exposed back and navel adds just the right amount of edginess to it. It's very unique for a pop idol."

This interest of Saburo's was very unexpected, but you came to appreciate that about him. You were just happy to have broken away from that awkward silence. Besides, it was pleasant to watch him express such enthusiasm for something as unconventional as pop music.

"(Y/N)?"

"Hmmm?"

"She's wearing a different costume now, what do you think of this one?" His entire upper body is leaned towards you. His once sharp stare is now owlish and almost childlike, waiting eagerly for your response. It was cute. Very cute.

"Um, I like this one even more than the last one! It definitely suits her hairbow better, and that appears to be her trademark in all of her outfits." The light of the TV screen shines bright onto his face, and the glossiness of his eyes makes it look like he's about to cry.

Oh. Oh he was crying. You panic, awkwardly patting the guy's shaking shoulders. Did he like the other one more!?  Upon closer inspection, you realize that he's still smiling. You don't interrupt him, allowing him to shed as many tears as he liked as you reached the end of your Ruri Hijiribe binge watch. The screen goes black on her shimmering face, drawing attention to how much darker the room had gotten. Saburo silently rises from the couch, leaving the room. You snicker at the sound of running water and someone blowing their nose.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, " he says coolly as he returns. You shake your head, smiling and assuring him that it was fine. "I enjoyed myself. You seem to know your stuff about this girl."

"Of course I do. As one of the vice presidents of Ruri Hijiribe fan club, it'd be shameful if I didn't know what I was talking about." You want to laugh so bad. God, you shouldn't--it would hurt his feelings so much--but it's so tempting.

"Wow! She sure is lucky to have gained such a dutiful following." After the binge of all of her music, performances, and videos, you feel like you were technically now a part of said following. You notice how his chest puffs out, obviously bolstered by the validation.

Without the pop idol to focus on, the two of you were forced to come up with more points of conversation. However, there is significantly less tension (you did just watch him cry his eyes out) with only the occasional awkward break. Because of all of your group hangouts, a lot had already been revealed about you, so you tried to focus on learning more about him. You ask how life was growing up, how he met the van gang, how he had gotten into Ruri Hijiribe's music. Thankfully, he didn't seem put off by the focus on himself.

He was... the scrappy sort. The first encounter he had with Kyohei was when he challenged him in a fight (apparently Kyohei had been quite the delinquent himself--you snicker at the thought). However, after Kyohei actually saved him after he was attacked by a color gang. Later down the road, Walker and Erika joined the fray, and they've been together ever since. They even joined a gang called the Blue Squares together, but they're not in it anymore. You stare at him, wide-eyed with wonder.

"Erm, (Y/N)? You good? Sorry, guess it is kinda boring."

"No, you're so cool, Saburo!" His past was so... badass! It was like straight out of those action movies you always watched. You could practically see it, a wounded, bleeding Saburo back to back with a bruised but steady Kyohei, fending off an evil group of delinquents. They're briefly overwhelmed, but just at the last moment, they snatch victories from the jaws of defeat--kicking the delinquents to the curb and walking away with just a few scratches and a beautiful friendship.

"Geez, you sound like Erika with your weird fantasies." Oh wow, you were thinking out loud. A chime rings from Saburo's cellphone. Just as he checks to see what it was, there's a knock at the door.

"Hey, Togusachiiii! We saw your van outside, we know that you're home!" You'd recognize the voice of Erika anywhere. You chuckle at the girl's exuberance and smile at your friend.

"Looks like they got out early!"

...

"Saburo told me you were quite the ruffian back in the day."

Kyohei huffed from beside you, shaking his head in amusement. The guy was kind enough to walk you home after the five of you enjoyed a lovely takeout dinner at Saburo's apartment. After noticing the stack of Ruri Hijiribe memorabilia on his coffee table, Kyohei shot you an apologetic glance. You shake it off with a smile, however, assuring him that you've enjoyed the past couple hours with the superfan.

"You could say something like that. I don't want you to think that I was some sort of bully or anything, but trouble always seemed to follow me, even when I didn't want it to." That made sense. The idea of Kyohei in a school uniform, donning a pompadour and swinging a bat at anyone who dared to look at him the wrong way was hard to believe (Wow, Erika and Walker had showed you too much manga). "That's right! You went to the same school as Shizuo and Izaya, didn't you?" you ask. His brow furrows, most likely at the taxing memory. "Yeah. You'd think that with those guys causing all kinds of trouble there wouldn't be any room for anything else. Fights kept happening, gangs kept rising."

"Gangs sure are a big thing here! The whole color coding thing is so odd...Yellow Scarves, Purple Gambles, Blue Squares. For people so rebellious, they sure do fall in line."

"Yeah, I guess. But those guys are all about showing off, and having a color makes it easy to show that."

"That's true. That's what makes the Dollars so different, huh?"

You're a couple more steps ahead before you realize that Kyohei's not walking with you anymore. He's not necessarily glaring at you, but there's a fire in his eyes that pins you to the floor. "Something wrong?" you gulped. Was it in poor taste, what you said? Perhaps it was a sore subject to him. He seems to snap out of whatever state that he's in, shaking his head with vigor. "No, sorry. Just...didn't expect you to be that interested in all this stuff," he admits. However, he doesn't keep walking, just stands in place, gaze flitting to the side. "W-Well, it is happening all around us, isn't it? I can't help but notice the tensions that have been rising...between--."

"Does it matter to you all that much? I mean, this situation is sort of beneath you, dontcha think?"

There's no hostility in his voice. It's quite the opposite; delicate and advisory. It was almost patronizing, to be honest, and it irked you. It's as if you weren't a young woman, how naiive did he think you were? You sigh through your nose, hands parking themselves on your hips. "Beneath me? You might be saying that to be nice, but I'm certainly not too good for anything. Y'know, I could be a lot more involved in all of this than you'd think."

Despite your increasingly bratty tone, he's still patient and calm (and you hate yourself for admiring that about him). "So could I; and I'll be the first to tell you, it's not all its made out to be. It's dangerous. It's unfair. You don't deserve to get caught up in that." His serenity is working on your nerves. It's annoying, how he was so obviously underestimating you, but something else was distracting you; something that was keeping you from getting too angry. "You care about me," you realize. Even from under the shadow of his beanie, you notice how his eyes widen. His flustered silence is so endearing that you can't help but grin.

"You do!! You're trying to protect me," you laugh, before composing yourself for his sake,"I understand what you're saying, Kyohei, and I know. I'm not made of glass, and I'm definitely not a fool. You can trust me, kay?" He's having an internal battle right now, you can tell. One side seems to give way and he continues to stroll, returning to your side.

"Well, I can't tell you what to do."

You happily continue your walk home, glad that you had won the little debate.

"Guess it's just another way you'll be joining the rest of us."

Wait, what?

#durarara #durarara x reader #drrr x reader #drrr #anri sonohara #Izaya Orihara #Mikado Ryugamine #Celty Sturluson #Saburo Togusa #saburo togusa x reader #kadota kyohei #kyohei kadota x reader

[chickensoup-4-mysoul]

herculean (drrr x f!reader) - chapter 5

chapter 5 - Birds of a Feather

synopsis: you meet a mysterious, helmet-clad woman, and shortly after, a very eccentric pair of twins. a lot of time is spent with the wonderful women of Ikebukuro :)

word count: 3, 521

warnings: very minor nsfw mentions(mairu being mairu)

"quiet whisper in the dead of night tells me everything will be alright if i keep my head to the sky everything is gonna be alright,, everything is gonna be alright - infinity's song

"Namie, if you had to choose between the sayings 'opposites attract' and 'birds of a feather flock together,' which one would you say is most accurate?"

Izaya had been eerily silent ever since Namie came in that morning, making no sound other than the insistent typing of computer keys. She'd think that the silence would be welcome, but going so long without an earful of her employer's antics was starting to irk her. She wouldn't admit to the relief that she felt when he finally opened his mouth for the first time that day. 

"Opposites attract, I guess. If you ended up falling in love with someone the exact same as you, you'd butt heads and get bored of one another." She briefly thought of Seiji and their similarities, or lack thereof. They wouldn't get bored of each other, would they...? She could never get bored of him.

"You'd think that, but statistically, you're wrong. Studies have shown that people with similar traits tend to last longer in relationships. Traits, personalities, genes...I thought you would get that more than anyone else, Namie." She missed when he was silent.

"What's with all of this relationship talk all of a sudden? What, you found a girlfriend or something?" She doesn't miss how the smirk on his face disappears and realizes that she had hit a nerve.

"I love humans, Namie. Nothing else."

It's a starkly out-of-place declaration, hinting that something else is most definitely on his mind. Namie, used to his cryptic antics, shakes her head and returns to her work. Izaya, however, has not mentally dropped the topic. He loved humans--even if they didn't seem to love him back. It was fine, intimacy and romance was in no way a priority of his. As he got caught up in his field of work, it wasn't even something that he thought about, not until now. His eyebrow twitched in aggravation as a familiar image appeared in his head. He hated the feeling of envy, he decided. His life was fine, better than that of anyone else's, even, definitely that of...

He huffed through his nose, picking up one of his cellphones.

If he wasn't able to find love...

then how was that monster finding it??

Scrolling through his recent calls, he stops at one of the familiar contacts. With little hesitation, he presses the green 'call' button beside it. The phone rings for a moment before he hears a click.

"Hello, this is Izaya Orihara. I have some info that you would find most useful." 

...

It's so rude of you to stare, you know, but it's a stare full of awe, so hopefully you didn't offend. She was a friend of Shizuo's, so you wanted to make a good first impression. You had been on an outing with your new friend. It was embarrassing how soon you had texted the man after your walk together, but he had thankfully agreed to showing you around, telling you about his favorite places and others that you should avoid. One of your favorite places that he showed you was a pastry shop. You found his apparent sweet tooth to be very cute. It was near the end of your time together that a woman(?) pulled up next to you both on a motorcycle.

The sight of her badass yellow helmet, paired with her form-fitting bodysuit gave you excited jitters, honestly. Of course, Shizuo would be friends with such a cool person. Shizuo introduces you both, and you learn that the woman's name is Celty. You also realize that she must be mute, as she doesn't communicate verbally, but by typing out messages onto a small device.

"Nice to see you up and well. How have you been feeling?" Confused by the message, you quirk an eyebrow at Shizuo.

"Celty lives with Shinra, that doctor you were talking to a few days ago. She saw you there, but she left before you woke up." he explains. Wait, so she had seen you all passed out on her couch?? How embarrassing!! You pout, trying to calm the burning in your cheeks. 

"I-I'm feeling great, thank you for asking--and thank you for letting me crash like that on your couch! Still, I hope you don't think I'm like... a wimp or anything...I usually don't go down that easy!"

Her shoulders bob up and down as if she's laughing and you find it very charming. She types something else on her device and shows it to you.

"Believe me, Shinra told me all about you. I don't doubt that for a second. Anyone would go down quick against Shizuo."

All about you?? Don't doubt it...? What exactly had Shinra told her? Shizuo continues conversing with Celty while you spectate, but you're too caught up in your own thoughts to fully listen. At the mention of a familiar name, your ears perk. You notice the tension in Shizuo's jaw.

"Any idea what that flea was doing here, anyways? You'd think he'd know better not to show his face around here." Ah, so Celty knew him too.

"I don't bother trying to figure out what he's up to. Shinra was on the phone with him recently, I could ask him if you're really curious." Shinra as well, huh? Shizuo shook his head, willing himself to relax.

"Nah, I don't really care, so long as I never see him again."

You had come to learn quite a bit about Shizuo, but one thing you never dared to mention was this Izaya character, not since you both confessed your feelings about the traffic sign incident. It was clear how much even thinking of the man made him seethe with rage. Still, a part of you was growing achingly curious about him and what he had done to garner such hatred from Shizuo, and disdain from everyone else. It would be rude to ask Shizuo about it, though. You would have to wait until you could ask someone else.

Shizuo offers to walk you home, but you refuse his offer, explaining that you had plans with a friend soon. You feel a twinge of panic as you notice him raise an eyebrow and quickly go on to explain that you were helping her with a project. He seems satisfied with this answer, giving a simple goodbye before leaving you alone. It was true that you were helping a friend, but what you were embarrassed to admit was that you were helping Erika with the sewing for a cosplay she was making. 

Usually you wouldn't be shameful about doing simple seamstress work, but after Erika explained exactly what a cosplay was, you felt like it wasn't something you would really parade through the streets about. Texting Erika that you were on your way, you put the address she had sent you into your GPS.

"Woah, I never guessed that the mean and scary Shizuo would get a girlfriend! I guess there's love out there for everyone, right Kururi...?"

"Very romantic..."

The sound of new voices surprises you, and when you try to find the source of the voices, you find it a lot closer to you than you expect. Two young girls, no older than 14 or 15 stood at most 2 feet before you. They appear to be twins, bearing matching eyes and hair colors and dressed to adorably compliment each other. Your eyes light up at their cute little hoodies and skirts, each hood shaped with different animal ears. The girl in the yellow hoodie shrieks, holding her arms in an 'X' in front of her face in an attempt to shield herself.

"We've been spotted!! We were so stealthy, how could we have been caught!?"

"Blew our cover."

You find yourself smiling at them in amusement. They were so cute! However, you were concerned as to why they were out by themselves like this, and why they were following a stranger down the street. "I'm sorry, can I help you both...?"

"Help us meet Yuuhei!" Your eyes widened as both of the girls seem to swarm you, tugging at the maxi skirt you wore. "Yuuhei...?"

"C'mon, you're sleeping with his brother so you have to have met him!" You're shocked by the bespectacled girl's accusation. An intense burn immediately overtakes your face.

"I-I'm not...sleeping with anyone's brother." You remember the earlier mention of Shizuo's name in horror, "I'm not in a relationship with anyone."

"Liar." Any hope you had that the girl in the green hoodie was any more polite than her counterpart was out the window. You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration.

"I'm telling the truth. I've only known Shizuo for a couple of days. I'm sure he's a great guy, but I'm not that kind of girl."

"So you're saying that you would sleep with him!" Aaaand the burning is back.

"Wha-!! You are awfully vulgar for a middle schooler!!" The girl in the yellow hoodie bursts out into childish laughter and the smile she shoots you seems oddly familiar. She grabs her sister's hand and sprints past you, the latter barely struggling to keep up. After reaching a considerable distance, they turn back to you, waving goodbye.

"Let us know when you get lucky, we'll happily wait if it means getting to meet Yuuhei!!" With that, they intertwine hands again and run off. Flustered, you frantically check your surroundings in hopes that no one heard the young girl's crude outbursts. Goodness, kids were getting more and more mature these days, weren't they? Shaking off the odd interaction, you continued on your trip, now worried about being late to Erika's.

...

So Erika's expectations for how she wanted the costume to look were a little particular, but you were able to work it all out. Working together, the two of you made quick progress. You were very impressed by this secret skill of Erika's, and you made sure that you told her so.

"Thanks! You get pretty good at it after a while." A glimmer in the corner of your eye catches your attention, and you realize it's a necklace that Erika is clasping around the neck of the mannequin. You're sure that you practically have hearts in your eyes as you inspect it closely. "Holy COW, that is absolutely gorgeous!! Where on earth did you find that??" 

Erika smiles and shrugs nonchalantly. "Can't really buy it anywhere where it's not just cheaply made plastic, it's unique to the character. I made it." At this point, you've completely lost your chill, grasping her hands in excitement and raving on and on about the mastery and professional level of her work. Erika doesn't seem to mind, but the flush on her face causes you to snap out of your stupor, releasing her hands and apologizing.

You two spend the rest of the evening putting finishing touches on the costume. As the conversation falls into a pleasant silence, your mind begins to drift to other matters. You wondered if, in such a private setting, it would be okay to ask Erika about this Izaya guy. The van gang's distaste for him was clear, but maybe she would be willing to explain some things to you--as a friend. "Hey, Erika?" She hums in acknowledgment, not looking up from her work. "Can you tell me about this Izaya Orihara?"

"What do you wanna know?" You're relieved that she remains unfazed, still focusing on detailing.

"Well, it's just like--a lot of people seem to dislike him. I mean, I'm pretty sure Shizuo was like, trying to deeply injure him. It makes me wonder what exactly he did." For the first time, Erika takes a break. Her stare travels up to the ceiling as she rubs her own chin in thought. Did she really have to think about it?

"Besides the fact that he's basically not a nice person...the guy has this huge god complex. He works as an informant, so he has a bunch of dirt on everyone and that gives him some sort of power over people, I guess." Wow.

"Is that why Shizuo dislikes him so much? Because he has dirt on him?" What kind of dirty secret could someone that the entire city knows about have?

"Hmm, nah. Dotachin says they've been at each other's throats since high school. Sounds like they've had bad blood since the moment they met. But if you ask me," her eyes light up, "I think it's all a big display for their intense, long-lived love for one another!"

"Um, ya don't say..." you answer nervously, hesitant to snap her out of what ever high she was experiencing in front of you. Suddenly, you hear a knock at the door. Glancing at Erika inquisitively, you ask her if she's expecting anyone. Not answering, she stands up and bounds excitedly to the door. Whoever she lets in is silent upon entry. "I figured that we should test this baby out on a model!" she calls from the other room. She returns with a special guest in close pursuit.

"Anri!' you exclaim happily, approaching the girl. You give her a warm hug, which she awkwardly receives. While you're a little put off by her passiveness, you brush it off as her not being used to such contact.  Erika smiles at the heartfelt(at least on your part) reunion. "I remembered that you guys knew each other, so I thought that a ladies night was in order!" You had to admit that your visit so far had been a total sausage festival. It would be nice to hang out with some cool girls! 

The three of you start the night by having Anri model the costume. However, once you two show it to her for the first time, you can tell she's apprehensive. She tries to be polite, insisting that there was nothing wrong with it, but you notice how her eyes keep shifting to the bust of the ensemble. Working on the mannequin, you hadn't noticed how deep the V-line of the costume was, but on someone like Anri, it would certainly fit a little differently.

"Are you uncomfortable with the bust, Anri?" Her cheeks turn a light shade of pink.

"O-Oh, w-well, I um...It's just that mannequin's body type is a little different from mine...I don't know if it will fit right..."

"Oh, don't worry about that, Anri! We put together this cosplay with your exact body type in mind! It may look smaller on the mannequin, but it's a very stretchy material." The way that Anri's flush deepened revealed how much that didn't help. Poor girl, you wondered how much harassment she must have dealt with to want to cover up so much. You ask Erika to show you a picture of the character that the cosplay was supposed to be of. As you look at the character on her phone, the two things you notice are the accuracy of the design--including the deep neckline--and the character's oddly purple skin. Closely examining the picture, you start to have an idea.

"Erika, do you mind showing me where you keep your fabrics?" Erika is obviously confused, but nods, pulling out a drawer from her dresser to reveal an array of different patterns and materials. Spotting exactly what you were looking for, you grab the roll of fabric and smile at your model. "The ensemble isn't quite done yet. Sit tight, Anri."

You're thankful to Erika for allowing you to make such a change to the outfit. She agreed that one of the key parts of cosplaying was wearing something that you were comfortable and confident in. It wasn't too different from typical fashion, you supposed. Anri sits on the bed patiently, content to watch the two of you continue to work on the mannequin. As you make more progress, she seems to realize what it is that you're doing to change it and smiles. It's a minor change, so it doesn't take entirely too long. 

"Come out whenever you're ready!!" Erika says, handing Anri the costume on a hanger as the young girl enters the bathroom. "Let us know if you need help," you add. After the door closes, you and Erika exchanged proud glances. It was like you both were the cool women on those reality tv shows where they gave the homely young girl a makeover. Although, Anri was completely fine before, and she might actually be better off going in public as the before picture than the after.   

"I think I'm ready..." Anri says before opening the door. You and Erika lose your minds at the sight of her.

"SO CUTE!!" you both yell, most definitely scaring the devil out of the poor girl. Unfortunately, it would be a bit of a while before you both calmed down. You gently ushered her over to a full body mirror so she could see herself.

"Look at how gorgeous you look, Anri!" you beam, picking up Erika's handmade necklace and clasping it around her neck, "Erika made this herself, can you believe it? Isn't it pretty?" You secretly gauge Anri's face for a reaction. After all, it was important that she herself felt good in it. She gives herself a once-over and to your utmost delight, smiles at herself. The deep neckline that she had previously worried about had been filled with a translucent swatch of purple fabric, meant to imitate the character's skin. There was a bit of transparency to it, but it was still thick enough to cover. Paired with the purple jewels of Erika's necklace, it made for a beautiful match.

Erika, having procured a camera out of nowhere, snapped numerous pictures of the girl. Surprisingly, Anri didn't seem too phased by it, smiling bashfully and letting her take as many photos as she wanted. It was satisfying, seeing her blossom like this in a silly costume. She deserved that kind of confidence, definitely. At Erika's offer to let her keep the outfit, however, she politely declined. Not much of a Halloween person, you guessed. 

...

It had gotten so late into the night, Erika suggested that the two of you just sleep over. After cutting on a copy of My Neighbor Totoro (complete with english subtitles for your own sleep-deprived convenience), you and Anri slipped on some of Erika's old clothes and collapsed onto an air mattress beside her bed. You wonder how often Erika's been pranked at slumber parties, because she's out like a light before the title credits are over. You and Anri are still wide awake, however, quietly watching the adorable movie. "I'm just glad she didn't put on one of those weird shows she goes on about. What does she call them? Yow-ee??" you jest. Anri actually giggles and you're very proud of yourself. 

"...Looks like we got that sleepover you were talking about," she says. So she remembered that. When you look at her, you see that she's smiling and you happily return the gesture. "Well, it won't be the last! I imagine being friends with boys is a little different, huh?" 

"Oh, definitely. Mikado and Masaomi are fun, but...they can still be kind of..." "Stupid? Immature? Prideful? Stupid?" "You said stupid twice." "So you agree that they're stupid."

You both laugh, but a sleepy groan from Erika quickly shuts the two of you up. "...I've never been to one of these before," Anri whispers thoughtfully. The sad smile on her face makes you feel sorry for the girl. "I never really had many friends growing up. Mikado and Masaomi are the first real friends I've had in a while." You wonder what she meant by "real friends." Perhaps there had been others that have gotten close to her and used her. You shake your head in disappointment at the thought.

"Wanna hear a secret?" The pure curiosity on her face is adorable, "I've never been to one either." Her eyes widen to the size of saucers. Without her glasses, you're able to notice the red tint in her brown eyes, even in the darkness.

"R-Really? But you're so... I'd think you'd be really popular."

"Hm?? What makes you say that?" you laugh.

Anri looks away, too guilty to answer. She couldn't admit it, the way that looking at you reminded her of all the girls who had bullied her growing up. Those rude girls who had all that money to buy the nicest clothes, and always had so many friends for no reason. It was terrible how she made that assumption about you, who reached out to her the moment that the two of you had met. 

"Well, it's true. I've never been to a sleepover, or had friends, for that matter. If I did, I don't remember." Anri looks at you expectantly, silently willing you to continue. It was endearing, how a girl so polite could be so obvious about her interest in someone's personal life. You could trust her, it felt like, not to judge you for unveiling such a major part of your past. So you told her....

...how a year ago, you were in a terrible accident; one that completely compromised your memory.

#durarara #durarara x reader #drrr x reader #durarara imagines #erika karisawa #erika karisawa x reader #anri sonohara #mairu orihara #kururi orihara #celty sturluson #shizuo heiwajima x reader #shizuo heiwajima

[chickensoup-4-mysoul]

herculean (drrr x f!reader) - chapter 4

chapter 4 - eye to eye

synopsis: Something weighs on your heart ever since you left Shinra's apartment, and you decide to act on it.

word count: 2,986

warning: N/A

It felt like you hadn't laid in your bed in five years. You wholeheartedly wanted to nestle completely into the silk sheets and wade away to snoozetown, but your brain wasn't ready for sleep yet.

"The bartender guy you met is Shizuo Heiwajima. Dude's super strong and he's got a bit of an anger issue." Saburo continues explaining. 

"He's a good guy, though. As long as you stay on his good side--and out of his way when he's pissed off (you failed at that part), you're alright."

"Dotachin and Shizuo go way back! They've known each other since high school." Erika whispers into your ear. Is she trying to be subtle? She's failing.

Kyohei seems like a good judge of character, you can trust him, right?

"And what about this... Izaya Orihara?"

"Not the best guy."

"Bad news."

"Better off steering clear of him."

So the consensus on this Izaya character is that he is...bad. To say the least. After seeing what a sore subject the guy was, you refrained from questioning further.

From what they told you, seems like you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, caught in a battle between two men who hated each other (although Erika thought they were in love with each other but no one wanted to unpack all of that). You wondered what could have started such a rivalry. They seemed to like Shizuo, but not Izaya. Was Shizuo the good guy? Was Izaya the bad guy?

A chill ran down your spine as you remembered the moment you made eye contact with him. The smile on his face that you couldn't seem to look away from. He wasn't too bad looking either Ew shut up.

You remembered Shizuo and the way that he couldn't even look at you in Shinra's apartment. What was going through his head? Was it remorse? Self-loathing? He had hurt you, after all. Did he expect you to hate him? Was that why he had so much trouble talking to you?

Eventually, you were able to fall into a deep sleep, but not without the persistent thought of the tall blonde bartender who insisted on wearing sunglasses inside.

...

The man's uninterested gaze morphed so quickly into a look of stupefaction.

"What'd you just ask me, little missy?"

"I said, does a Shizuo Heiwajima work here?"

You don't quite appreciate the way he laughs in your face. He garners the attention of two other bar patrons sitting near by.

"You fellas hear this chick? Says she's lookin' for Shizuo Heiwajima!!" They join him in his laughter.

"Well, is he here, or not? That's all I'm asking," you press, unamused.

The man's smile disappears, replaced by a scowl. He rests his weight on the countertop between you in an attempt to gain a few inches on you--you're happy you wore platforms today.

"Listen here, Fancy Pants. I dunno what kind of trouble you're looking to get into, but you ain't gonna find it here."

".....so he's not here."

"Get outta my bar!"

Before you're out the door, you make sure to mutter a comment about the odor of the place before scurrying off (Yes, you WILL throw rocks from your glass house--and what about it??).

Storming along the sidewalk, you huff in frustration. That was the fourth or fifth bar, and the previous few had treated you the same. You thought people were supposed to be polite here!

After your pondering session last night, you decided that you wanted to talk to Shizuo. You thought that the best place to find the man would be at his place of work, but so far you had no luck. Now it was almost noon, you had no signs of Shizuo, you had been stared down by several too many sleazeballs (you regret wearing a tube top today but they shouldn't look at you like that no matter what you were wearing!), you were hungry, and you were pretty sure you had entered the sketchy side of town. 

You clutched your cellphone close to your chest as you strolled past a rundown looking apartment building, prepared to dial a number if anything were to go down.  

""ᵂᵉˡˡ, ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡᵉᵐᵉⁿ ᵒᵇᵛᶦᵒᵘˢˡʸ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵃ ˡᶦᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵈᶦˢᵗʳᵃᶜᵗᵉᵈ, ˢᵒ ʰᵒʷ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵇᵉˀ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃˡˡ, ᶜˡᵉᵃʳˡʸ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉⁿ'ᵗ ᶦⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᶦᵍʰᵗ ᵉᵐᵒᵗᶦᵒⁿᵃˡ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃⁿᵈˡᵉ ᵗʰᶦˢ ʲᵒᵇ ᵃⁿʷᵃʸᵎ"

Wow, the walls in those apartments must be really thin, you can almost hear every word they were saying in there! Now some man was practically roaring and--

wait. You had definitely heard that roar before.

You are alerted by the sound of shattering glass. A man crashes through a window, followed by--is that a washing machine? They soar through the air, flying right over you before crashing to the ground, only a few feet away. You wince at the sight, but breathe a sigh of relief at the sound of the man's groaning confirming that he's still alive. You turn back to the building from whence he came, spotting a dark-skinned man looking out that same shattered window. Even from the distance, his sigh is audible as he removes his glasses and rubs his temples.

"Now you've done it...Shizuo!"

Your ears perk up at the name. Could that be...? Lo and behold, from next to the bespectacled man emerges a head of blonde hair. "Hey...H-Hey!!! Shizuo!!" Excited by the discovery you yell out to him, waving your arms in hopes that he would see you. At the sound of the familiar name, Tom Tanaka spots you, nudging Shizuo. "You know that chick...?" He asked, staring amusedly at the weirdly eager girl.

Upon seeing what Tom was talking about, Shizuo's cigarette dropped from his mouth to the floor. Standing right there, waving happily at him...

...was the girl he had almost killed.

"I found you!!!" You laugh, happy to have gotten his attention.

...

Tom is well aware that Shizuo is a grown man with a private life of his own. However, as he resides here, sitting across the table from Shizuo with a foreign girl between them--one that he apparently knows-- he can't help but shoot him an accusatory look.

How could you not tell me about this!?

Shizuo could already tell that Tom was deeply misreading the situation. The way he glanced between him and the girl as they ate lunch left little to the imagination as to what he was thinking. In response to his pointed stare, he could only stare right back and attempt to telepathically communicate.

I don't know what's going on either!

You were really enjoying this rice. The way you scarfed down the contents of the bowl was probably not ladylike, but you had earned a good meal after your wild goose chase that morning. You had expected Shizuo and Tom to converse a bit more since they seemed to be coworkers, but everyone at the table was just silently enjoying their food.

After catching up to the pair, you had asked Shizuo to go out to lunch with you. Except for the fact that his coworker was standing right there and, not wanting to be rude, you panicked and ended up inviting both of them. That was stupid, obviously, because now you couldn't really discuss the things you wanted to. 

"So..." you're thankful to Tom for breaking the silence. Shizuo is not. "You two know each other...?"

You sneak a glance at Shizuo, wondering if he'll answer. He does the same to you, and you both end up having a moment of awkward eye contact (as much contact you could get with those damn sunglasses). He quickly looks away, scarfing down another mouthful of his food.

"We're... familiar with each other," you answer vaguely. Tom's eyebrows shoot up like rockets and you quickly decide that that was the wrong answer, "I mean!!! We've met briefly before, but that's about it."

"I see." Bury me alive. 

"So...you both are...debt collectors?" You try.

"That's right! Shizuo here is my bodyguard!"

"That dangerous of a job, huh?" A bodyguard?? You were scrounging around every bar for nothing??? An image of the man and the washing machine flying over your head flashed in your mind and you winced. Guess he must have done something to threaten Tom.

"What about you?" Unlike Shizuo, Tom had no trouble asking questions. "You're not from here. What's your calling here in Ikebukuro?"

You gladly went on your classic story about your studies and prospective career, and how settling in Ikebukuro would aid you in pursuing said career. From your peripheral, you noticed Shizuo's intense focus on you as you spoke. It takes everything in you not to crumble under his gaze, maintaining eye contact with Tom in an attempt to calm your embarrassment.

"You really think we dress all that great??" Tom fiddles with the collar of his shirt.

"Oh, absolutely! You are a very fashionable man, Tom. But besides the aesthetic, your clothing choice serves a purpose. The suit provides professionalism. Obviously, your work requires people to take you seriously, but the striped button up is rustic. It keeps people from underestimating you. It's the perfect juxtaposition!"

You were ranting again, but Tom seemed to eat up the validation. It's definitely a myth that men don't care about what people think of their style. On the contraire, they take great pride in it! You turn to Shizuo who, not expecting the attention to be turned on him, almost flinches under your gaze.

"And, though I didn't completely get it at first, I can understand how a bodyguard in a bartender's outfit would be most intimidating. A man working such a blue-collar job definitely wouldn't be afraid to get his hands dirty!"

"Uh...right." Shizuo knew damn well that he wore those clothes because they were a gift from his brother, but you looked so excited. The word understand continued to echo in his mind. It was strange to you, how he dressed, but you didn't judge him for it. You almost seemed to find it admirable.

"Well, seems like you really know your stuff!" Tom smiles smugly at the look on Shizuo's face, and for the first time since they were teenagers, Shizuo might actually be willing to punch him.

You smile proudly, completely oblivious to the tension building between the two childhood friends.

...

So, Tom ran away before Shizuo could kill him, using the excuse that he had some sort of "paper work" to do at home. In reality, he was just deserting Shizuo to walk you home alone. The two of you trek silently in the direction of your apartment. The trip was silent except for the occasional direction from your GPS, and the click of your platform sandals against the side walk. It was killing you, how neither of you could say anything. You had so much to say!! But how were you supposed to say it??

Hey, I know it was you who almost killed me, but your friend from high school said you guys were cool, so it's all good!

You could only keep walking, occasionally sneaking glances at him. It was still well into the afternoon and the sun had reached it's peak among the sky. Even shining at its brightest, the sun's rays did little to reveal the eyes that hid behind those stupid sunglasses. It was hard to tell whether or not he was even looking at you.

"The uniform is fine, but you'd look so much better without those sunglasses hiding your face." GIRL WHAT.

You both stop walking at the same time, you in shock, and him in god knows what. He turns to look at you for the first time since you had started walking.

"I-I'm sorry how rude of me!! Here I go, thinking, I know everything about what everyone ought to be wearing! Honestly, if you feel better wearing those then--!"

"You really think I'd look better...?"

You're stunned silent by his calm, contemplative tone of voice. He stares at you expectantly, waiting for your answer.

"W-well, I mean... you'd look fine with or without them. It's more about...how you appear to others, y'know what I mean. You..make better connections with people when you can make direct eye contact with them!! Also, I know some consider it rude to wear sunglasses indoors, but on the job that might work for you for intimi...dation..."

When you look back at him, his glasses are tucked into his vest pocket. Deep brown eyes. The most typical eye color, shared by almost every person you had passed that day. His gaze was strikingly....human. This man who possessed great strength, known for going on rampages all over Ikebukuro, who you had just watched hurl a man through a window with his own home appliance, stood before you looking so pure. You suddenly feel shy, like this was some sort of intimate moment but chill out, girl the man only took off his glasses.

"Y-yeah...yeah that's much better." Neither of you move, simply standing there, staring at each other. Now's the time, you goad yourself, Here's your chance to get it off your chest!

"I'm not mad at you for--" "I'm the one who--" "--throwing that sign!" "--threw that sign!"

Seems like you both seized the opportunity, breaking the silence at the same time. His eyes widened and you briefly relish the way the light catches them.

"You knew...?"

You told him about Kyohei and the van gang. How they had told you of his feud with some guy named Izaya, and his super strength. "I know I was caught in the wrong place and you didn't mean to hit me! And you made sure that I was okay after, which was really kind of you! So...please don't think that I'm holding anything against you."

Shizuo can only stare at you now. He had honestly not expected this to be as easy as it was. Guilt had been eating away at him ever since you walked out the door of Shinra's apartment. All he could think about was how much you would hate him if you found out. How terrified of him you would be when you realized his true nature; the violence, the short temper...and here you were, trying to make him feel better.

"Can I see...your arm...?" He's a spitting image of when you first met him--bashful and hesistant--except now, without his glasses, he was so much more vulnerable. His focus was locked on you, always on you. The request confuses you, but you see no harm in it. Palm facing down, you offer him your right arm, lifting it closer to his face so he can see whatever he's a so interested in.

You had long ago removed the band-aid, he noticed. The day before, when he carried your unconscious body to Shinra's home, he hadn't had the courage to look too closely for fear of seeing just how much damage he had done. Upon closer inspection, the only remnant of the previous day's events was a darkened mark, similar to the burning of rubber tires against asphalt. It was minuscule; if he hadn't looked closely enough, he would have missed it. His eyes are owlish, shifting between your face and your arm. You would pay a million dollars to be able to see what was going on inside his head right now, because at the moment you had no clue.

"Any idea when you might be done...? My arm's getting a little bit tired." You cover it up with a joking smile but the burning in your biceps is no laughing matter. He coughs awkwardly and returns your arm, not even realizing that he had taken it into his hands in the first place. "Well...that was a nice break! Let's keep on moving!"

The rest of the walk is more on the pleasant side. You engage in small talk and whenever a silence did fall, it was comfortable, with no pressure to keep forcing conversation. The more the two of you converse, the less enigmatic that he seems. You begin tallying the things you've learned about him in your head: how close he is to his brother, how far back he and Tom go, how weird his other friend Shinra was. Unbeknownst to you, he's doing the same thing to you as well. It's easier on his end due to you doing most of the talking, and he's thankful for that.

A chime resounds from your cellphone, signaling that you had arrived at your destination. "Oh! Looks like this is me," you point to the tall building the two of you were approaching. "Thank you for walking me all the way here!"

"No problem."

You turn your back to him, ready to turn in for an evening at home, but something stops you. Abruptly, you return, pushing your phone into his face. "W-we should do this again!! Like, hang out, I mean, if you want to!! It's okay if you don't..." The moment you stutter out the first words, it's a downward spiral from there and you're already going through the five stages of grief. Shizuo saves you from your own embarrassment, accepting the device from you and typing something in. When he hands it back to you, you see that he's put himself in as a contact. When you look back at him, he's smiling. There's no smugness or ill intent to it, just a simple quirk of the corners of his mouth. It suits him. A lot. 

The two of you exchange goodbyes before he leaves in the direction you came from. You briefly wondered if he'd be able to retrace his steps well enough to get back okay, but then you realize that if he were to get attacked he could just knock his assailant to kingdom come. Boarding the elevator up to the top floor, you allow a chuckle to slip out. Yeah, he'll be alright.

#durarara #durarara x reader #shizuo heiwajima #shizuo heiwajima x reader #drrr x reader #durarara imagines #drrr #tom tanaka

[chickensoup-4-mysoul]

herculean (drrr x f!reader) - chapter 3

chapter 3 - Mirror Mirror

synopsis: You wake up in an unfamiliar apartment, your last memory being a flying traffic sign headed straight towards you. Waiting for you to awaken is an odd doctor and an even odder...bartender?

word count: 2,543

author's note: a double upload since these chapters are pretty short!

warnings: N/A

"always needed attention i've always needed a friend cure as a mean to prevention i wish i had more to prevent,, me, myself, and i - raleigh ritchie

.....lia......

...m....ly........

..n..c..a.......

.......(Y/N)!

You practically swallow a gust of air as if for the first time in hours. An insistent chill alerts you of the sweat that's collected on your back. You sit up from your position on what seems to be a couch. As your vision begins to focus, your heart drops at the sight of unfamiliar surroundings.

The apartment is much smaller than yours, but it's nice. The walls are a gray marble pattern, accented by dark wooden floors and furniture. Beside the front door was a small kitchen...

"Shit... Shinra! She's awake!"

You shout in fear at the realization that someone is in the room with you. Grabbing the nearest thing to you--a couch cushion--you hurl it at them.

"S-stay away from me! My father will look for me if I go missing! Lay a finger on me and so help me, I will--!"

"Woah, calm down, dammit, I'm not gonna hurt--"

He's cut off by another cushion to the face. 

"What's going on in here?" Another man enters the room.

You shriek this time. Oh my god, you've been kidnapped. You've seen it on TV. These men kidnapped you and now they were gonna torture you and then stuff you into a suitcase and leave you on the streets...

The other man was wearing a doctor's coat.

....Oops.

You suddenly remember where you were before you got here. That traffic sign must have rocked your world, and now you were in a hospital.

"Shizuo, you don't even know this girl!? You've scared her senseless!" The man in the labcoat carefully kneels in front of you. His face is friendly, smiling in an attempt to soothe your nerves. "I'm Dr. Kishitani. You were hurt a couple hours ago and Shizuo brought you to me to help you."

His glasses and coat, reminding you of your father, are comforting. You try to regain your composure, hoping this wasn't some elaborate ruse and that you could actually trust this man. What a strange hospital this was.

"I-I'm sorry...I was frightened. Thank you for helping me."

"Well, no need to thank me. I didn't need to do much!"

You're confused by his statement, but a movement from behind him draws your attention. The other man stood up from a chair across from you. He begins to approach you but appears to psyche himself out, maintaining a distance.

"Are you...okay...?" The way that he's avoiding eye contact, gaze glued to his feet and hands stuffed into his pockets, reminds you of an elementary schooler being forced to apologize.

Also--he's dressed like a bartender? And he's blonde. And also wearing sunglasses inside. 

"I feel fine." You answer. It's not that bright in here, you want to say. They're stylish, you guess, but that's a faux pas.

"Good."

You're staring at each other now. You wonder what color his eyes are, what it would be like to truly sit under his naked stare. 

He's handsome.

THAT was an intrusive thought.

Dr. Kishitani clears his throat in attempt to break the awkward silence. 

"Well, um...I'm gonna get you a few things, now that you're awake. Sit tight!"

He practically teleports away. The blonde glares at the spot where his friend used to be.

"So...your name is Shizuo?"

"...Yes."

"Well, Shizuo...thank you for bringing me here." You honestly don't know why a complete stranger would do this, or why he seemed to bring you to a friend instead of a normal hospital, but you were alright now, so you couldn't complain.

"Don't mention it."

And then it was silent again. You both sat there, staring at each other for what felt like an eternity. However, looking at Shizuo, you could tell he wanted to say something, opening his mouth before quickly clamping it shut. Finally, he seems to work up the courage.

"You're....When did you find...h-how long have you been--."

"I'm baaaaack!" Dr. Kishitani ascends from his place of escape, carrying a glass of water and various pill bottles on a small tray. He sets it down in front of you, ignoring Shizuo's glower. "I know you feel fine, but here's a little pick me up, just in case!"

You gratefully accept the painkillers, swallowing them down with a drink of water. As you move, you notice the lack of first aid on your body. Save for two kitten patterned bandaids on the backs of your forearms, the rest of you had been untouched.

"Are you sure I won't need any other kinds of treatment, that sign came at me really fast..."

Dr. Kishitani glances at Shizuo, whose brow furrows.

"Hmmm, nope! Unless you want to sport more of these really cute band-aids, you're good to go!"

"Well, you're the doctor. Thank you again, Dr. Kishitani--"

"Shinra's fine!"

"Shinra, okay. Thank you. I don't know what your rates are, but I'll let my father know what you've done for me and he'll contact you regarding your payment."

"Don't worry about it. I've got it covered."

You turn to Shizuo in bewilderment. It's not a problem, you try to explain, your father has no qualms with supporting you financially. 

"No, I insist." 

"Don't bother trying to persuade him, he's not budging." Shinra chimes in, almost amused by the domestic nature of the argument.

You sigh. Guess there's no use then. You thank him again, but he shrugs it off. It's obvious that you've overstayed your welcome by now. Shinra let's you keep the painkillers. You tuck it into the pocket of your bag and go to leave the front door.

"Wait!" Shizuo's sudden outburst startled you. It was the most energetic he had been since you woke up. "W-What's your name...?"

You barely hold back your laughter in an attempt to avoid bruising his ego.

"(Y/N) Brigall. It was nice meeting you both!" With that, you shut the door behind you, eager to remove yourself from the strange situation.

...

"Wow, Shizuo, no wonder you don't have a girlfriend! You're so awkward!"

Shinra expects the usual flare in anger from his longlived friend, however, Shizuo is obviously distracted. "...You're that focused on it, huh...? Looks like you're not that alone, afterall!" 

At those words, the words that had been echoing in his had for the past few hours, Shizuo sighed. Not alone. It was embarassing, how well Shinra could read him--how obvious his fixation was.

"Thanks for doing that for me...I owe you."

"It's what Celty would have wanted me to do!"

Shizuo scoffs at the statement, but does nothing to question it. If he had really done damage, if he had hurt an innocent bystander, he wouldn't be able to forgive himself.

"Still... Brigall. I can't help but feel like I've heard that name before...." Shinra scratches his chin, deep in thought, "Hm... nah! Can't be anything important."

He wanted to talk to her--get to know her more, he thought. But he was terrible at talking. He wouldn't be surprised if he scared her off. She acted like a normal young woman, what would she want to do with him...? Maybe he was foolish...

Maybe he was being foolish to think that he may have found somebody that was like him.

...

That was weird that was weird that was weird good GOD that was weird--

Following the GPS on your phone, you scurried as far as you could from the apartment building. It was now transitioning later into the evening, the sky painted purples and oranges by the descending sun. You really had slept the day away.

It was shocking how sprightly you were after apparently having undergone such a debilitating incident. You didn't remember much besides the image of a traffic sign shooting rapidly in your direction. Your hands ran absentmindedly over your forearms, caressing the cute band-aids there and pressing on them curiously. Maybe someone had saved you at the last minute, and you fainted from the shock. That would explain the lack of injuries.

Well, now you were frustrated. Your first full day in Ikebukuro hadn't gone exactly as you planned thanks to that little debacle. Still, you were glad that you were okay, at least.

"...Hey!! We have got to stop running into each other like this!"

Someone has pulled up next to you on the sidewalk. Hanging outside of a van window is none other than Erika, shouting and waving her arms like she's not literally two feet away in front of you. The sight of a friendly face does wonders for your spirits.

"Erika!" You exclaim happily, trotting up to the window. To your joy, the rest of the gang is there as well. They must be connected at the hip. "Hey, you guys!"

"We were just headed out for dinner, care to join us?" Kyohei offers. Quite frankly, your heart soars. Erika opens the door for you and you crawl in next to her. 

"Don't mind if I do! Where are we headed?"  You catch a glimpse of Kyohei's grin in the rearview mirror.

"Place is called Russia's Sushi. Don't know if you've heard of it."

"Hmmm, doesn't ring a bell..." you jest. You're cut off by the sound of your own stomach and you realize that you haven't eaten since your lovely sweet bun from that afternoon.

"Geez, pedal to the metal before she starves to death!" Walker jokes. That makes you laugh.

You were thankful for them, and the way they could make you forget about your chaotic day so quickly.

 "Well, if it isn't Bossman Kadota! Good to see you again!" Instead of his initial position outside, handing out fliers, Simon is inside the restaurant, waiting tables and greeting customers as they enter. As he ushers the group inside, he notices you and smiles. "Ah, friend! I see you are settling in nice, yes?"

You return his smile, now used to his intimidating nature. You follow the rest of the gang's lead as they remove their shoes. A bit of embarrassment swells in your chest at the sight of your polka dotted socks next to everyone else's normal gray socks. Kyohei, probably having done this many times before, leads you all to a separate room where a table resides. 

You plop down on one of the cushions next to Erika, who you notice has taken off her cap. Her hair is in a sort of french braid, gathered to the side. 

"You're hair is so cute, Erika!" you all but squeal, excited at this pleasant revelation. The flush on her face is surprising--you didn't peg her for the easily flustered sort--but not unwelcome.

The sight of Kyohei sitting across from you, however, has your own face feeling a little hot. The man had removed his beanie, revealing a slicked back head of hair. His brows are bold, sharpening the intensity of his gaze. The way that beanie had aged him was criminal. He didn't look nearly as old as you thought he was, only in his early to mid twenties. Yeah, that's one good looking man right there. 

Someone clears their throat and you realize that it's Kyohei, having noticed your prolonged attention on him. You...knock your silverware off of the table so you don't have to make eye contact with anyone for a minute. 

Simon, bless his soul, saves you when he brings tea to your table and takes your order (you don't hear what Kyohei orders over the sound of your own internal screaming). Eager to taste the herbal liquid, you lift the cup to your lips and take a sip. The steam has a pleasant scent and soothes your nerves. When you look up from your cup, Saburo is staring at you, wide-eyed.

"How can you even touch that? Shit's piping hot!" You look around at the others and notice that no one else has touched theirs. Oh no, was this a custom thing? Were you supposed to wait??

"R-really? Mine's fine, maybe Simon put ice in it or something..." The others glanced at your semi-drank cup, steaming just as much as everyone else's.

"So, (Y/N), how was your first 24 hours in Ikebukuro?" Erika asks.

"It was certainly something! Made some friends with a couple of high school students. This really cute boy and girl with glasses--definitely crushing on each other--and this really silly blonde kid. They were a fun group." Walker and Erika glance at each other. They're definitely doing that thing where they communicate telepathically.

"We know those guys!" Walker reveals and Erika nods in agreement.

"Oh, you do? Their names may ring a bell. Anri, Mikado, and..."

"Masaomi." Your heart almost drops at Kyohei's tone. It's not contemptuous, no... but it carried weight. It's startling how quickly the mood seems to change. All four them are exchanging looks now and you feel kinda left out.

In comes Simon and you're starting to suspect that he's eavesdropping with the way that he arrives at the most convenient times. He places a plate of...interesting food in front of you. "I made sure to prepare the best assortment... for first time!" You smile gratefully at the man. He really was a kind guy! 

"Thanks! Looks great!"

At first you try to use the chopsticks provided to you, but you quickly realize that everyone else is eating with their hands and that you look stupid. The flavor is... unique to say the least, but your tray is still empty in a matter of minutes. 

"Oh, and that wasn't the only thing," you continue once everybody was finished, "You guys warned me about 'headless riders' and 'vicious slashings', but you didn't say anything about flying traffic signs!"

Kyohei stares at you incredulously. "Flying...traffic signs?"

You go on to explain your time in the park, and how there was suddenly this skinny guy in a fur jacket--very stylish, you had to add--and he's parkouring it all over the place. Then, an entire traffic sign comes hurtling at you, out of nowhere! You don't know exactly what happened after, you tell them. You then describe how you woke up in some weird doctor's apartment where you met this bartender blonde who--get this-- wore sunglasses inside.

Everyone is gawking at you now. Self consciousness quickly wins you over, and you laugh sheepishly at your little spiel.

"Sorry...that does sound really made up, huh? I'd get it if you didn't believe me."

"No...no we believe you," Kyohei sighs, rubbing his temples. Had you done something to upset him..?

"There was a fight between them today, wasn't there...? Wow, I can't believe you managed to get caught up in the middle of that! That's, like, peak main character energy right there!" You have no idea what Walker is talking about.

"Fight...? 'Them'? Who's 'them'?"

"Izaya Orihara and Shizuo Heiwajima." Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise at the names that leave Saburo's mouth.

Shizuo...?? And that other guy...

The sound of that roaring battlecry echoed in your head and you remembered how it had almost sounded like a name to you.

So Shizuo was somehow involved in all of that? You had thought he had been a random bystander? He had been so docile when you first met him, could he really be that vicious? And if that dark-haired man was Izaya...

Was it Shizuo that had hit you?

#drrr x reader #drrr #durarara #durarara x reader #shizuo heiwajima x reader #shizuo x reader #shizuo heiwajima #shinra kishitani #kadota kyohei x reader #kyohei kadota x reader #kadota kyohei #erika karisawa x reader #erika karisawa #walker yumasaki x reader #walker yumasaki #saburo togusa #saburo togusa x reader

[chickensoup-4-mysoul]

herculean (drrr x f!reader) - chapter 2

chapter 2 - Fashion Patrol

synopsis: You meet the Raira trio and take an extra special liking to a certain shy, bespectacled girl.

word count: 2,401

A/N: i make a lot of references to the reader being foreign, and easy to pick out. i write from the perspective of a black person, but i also think that it's the way that the reader dresses and acts that makes it obvious that she's not from here!

warnings: N/A

"i wanna know just how far i can go every direction seems to stretch out to no end, oh i could wait for all my life, and never feel the time was right might break or bend but some things you have to pursue,, come true - khai dreams, forrest, biskwiq, and wizard island

The clock on your bedside table shines almost obnoxiously among the darkness of your room.

6:30 AM

You heave a sigh. Your body had no business. No right. To awaken you from sweet sweet slumber like this. You blame jet lag and first day excitement.

Technically, you were here last night, but this would be your first full day! First day of watching early morning work traffic, first day of seeing foreign faces in broad daylight, first day of watching the sunrise...

That reminds you! You shimmy out from under your sheets, ignoring the cool morning air and the press of cold wooden floor against your feet. You run your fingers against the silk of the curtain, relishing in the smooth feeling before pulling it back. 

The warmth from the sun radiates onto you as light floods your room. Still mixed with deep oranges and pinks, the brightness doesn't pierce your eyes quite yet, but bathes you in serenity. The perfect wakeup call.

Father really spoiled you, landing you in an apartment like this. It was the penthouse of the building with a beautiful viewpoint. You had front row seats to the sunrise, accentuating the fluctuating skyline of the city. 

Pulling a comfy robe over your now shivering body, you slide open the door to your bedroom and descend towards the kitchen. The place looked beautiful in approaching daylight. You couldn't say that you had taken quite enough time to appreciate it last night as you stumbled into the dark space, stripped down to your undergarments and threw yourself into bed.

It was spacious, with little walls as separation. You slipped past the couch to enter the kitchen, immediately grabbing the electric kettle and filling it with water. Some tea would be the cherry on top to this peaceful morning. 

A content smile graced your lips. Hopefully the day is just as peaceful.

...

"Now, now, I'm not sure I appreciate such an accusatory tone."

Izaya's  lips curled into an unamused frown at the pointed remarks sounding from the other side of the phone.

"So little faith! So you do care about her wellbeing after all. That's quite interesting, doctor. Quite interesting indeed...Would I be correct to assume that this concern isn't purely altruistic?"

A silence, while prolonged, is not at all empty. Pure, seething animosity seemed to radiate from the small device.

"Hm? Is it still my turn to talk? Well, let me continue then. I assure you, you have nothing to worry about."

Another moment passed before a sigh could be heard on the other line. The other speaker half-heartedly apologized, embarrassed by the loss of composure.

"Just trust me to do my job."

The call was put to an end before another rebuttal was spoken.

"It's weird hearing you speak English," Namie comments from her spot at the bookshelves. She's haphazardly dusting to hide the fact that she was most definitely eavesdropping. "That man call you again?"

Izaya Orihara sighed as he spun in his chair, massaging his temples with his fingertips.

"Yes, seems to have a very particular desire as to how he wants the job done." He leans back in his desk chair, stretching out his back with his arms behind his head. "Can't blame him though, he's certainly paying a lot."

"Is money really that much of a concern for you?" Namie remarks dully, gaze flitting over the grandiose living space that the informant was able to afford. The corner of Izaya's mouth twitches into a smirk.

"The payment is simply an added bonus. This client seems insistent that this job would be... beneficial for me as well."

The woman sighs and ceases further discussion, harboring no desire to even try to fathom the man's motivation. 

...

Nighttime Ikebukuro was exciting. Thousands of glittering towers of light accent the jet black sky, somehow more alive than ever. 

Daytime Ikebukuro, however, carried it's own special charms. Those glittering towers of light are now simply tall buildings. Places of work, living spaces, and shopping centers. Those obscure faces that had blended together the night before were now distinct. You see individual pairs of eyes, mouths pulled into smiles and frowns, hair piled on top of heads or spilling down shoulders.

At night, the city came to life. During the day, the people did.

And so do their senses of style, you think happily. After your morning tea and sunrise, you fell right back asleep. An early start would have been nice, but you would hate yourself if you went out into the real world running on 6 hours of sleep. After you woke back up at a much better hour, you were ready to conquer the world!

Notepad in lap, you were now people-watching, wielding a pencil in one hand and a sweet roll in the other. You had been sitting there for at least an hour, scribbling down notes and even a few sketches of whatever information you deemed important. Patterns that seemed consistent, common cuts and fits, different color schemes. It was a Saturday afternoon, so many had swapped out their school and work uniforms for more casual clothes. Not only that, but many teens were out and about, which you were particularly happy about. They were the next generation--the future and hope of fashion as we know it!

A flash of blonde hair in your peripheral immediately caught your eye. You turned to see a trio, sitting not too far from you. They were young, not a day over high school age (which you're pretty sure is a little younger here). A black haired boy sat next to a girl with a black bob. They well complimented each other, you thought, both dressed conservatively. You liked the boy's color block jacket, you decide. Examining the girl's attire, you wonder if she's covered so thoroughly on purpose. Even under her long, hooded dress (kinda reminds you of Erika's), you could still make out her curvy, buxom frame.

Perhaps she was insecure about it. What a shame, you could picture all sorts of outfits that would do wonders with her body type.

The obtrusive blonde was donned by their third companion, another boy. Compared to the other two, this one didn't want to blend in at all. While his white hoodie and black jeans were typical of any teenage boy, his dye job combined with the shiny piercings and pocket chain (we love a king who knows how to accessorize) clearly indicated that he was a young man that needed to be seen.

Watching the three interact brought a smile to your face. They had a cute dynamic. As you return to writing notes, their conversation suddenly sounds clearer, as if moving towards you.

"Fine then! If you two lovebirds are just gonna push me out like that, I'll find a sweetheart of my own!"

So the girl and black-haired boy were in a relationship, huh? Poor blonde boy, he must feel like such a third--

"Helloooo, miss!"

You're startled by the sudden presence of someone in front of you. Your pen slips from your grip and tumbles onto the floor, eventually stopping at the feet of your new visitor. As they bend down to pick it up, the head of blonde hair is a dead giveaway as to who it was.

"Whoops! Didn't think you'd be that surprised by my dashing good looks!" He offers you the pen like it's some sort of rose. "Couldn't help but notice you making eyes at me! Name's Masaomi Kida, but you can call me the love of your life!"

He's laying it on thick and you are thoroughly amused. Still, you felt a little bad. If he was expecting you to swoon right into his arms, he was sorely mistaken.

"I'll stick with Masaomi. Sorry if I was staring, I love your sense of style!"

You couldn't tell if his surprise was because of your compliment, or you not immediately shooting him down. 

"O-oh, why thank you! Nice to know someone on this earth appreciates my taste."

You stand, feeling it was awkward to have him talk to you while you were still sitting down. He's flustered by the realization that you're taller than him. 

"Of course! Have you ever considered pairing those jeans with a more form fitting top? Oooo maybe even a nice pattern for contrast! A horizontal stripe would really broaden your shoulders."

It was a simple conversation point, you thought. Just a suggestion, one that some could even take as a compliment. Masaomi, however, just looked confused, and maybe even a bit disgruntled by the comment about his shoulders.

"Masaomi, are you bothering random women again? I thought you were just storming off for dramatic effect!"

You spot the approaching forms of Masaomi's friends. As the boy reprimands him--they must go way back--the girl eyes you with harmless interest. At your friendly smile, however, she looks away bashfully. Masaomi gasps, scandalized.

"Mikado, how could you? This is no random woman. This is my long lost friend, my lifelong companion, my dear.....what's your name?"

"(Y/N)."

"(Y/N)--woah say that again?"

"(Y/N)." You sound it out slowly, laughing at his nonsensical behavior. 

He dramatically repeats your name and while he isn't exactly right on the money, you appreciate the effort.

"You two...know each other?" The girl asks. You immediately fall in love with the soft ring of her voice. What an adorable girl!

You cut off Masaomi before he could fabricate anything else, explaining that no, you weren't a long lost lover of his, but he wasn't at all bothering you. 

"So, my identity's been revealed. How about you two? I heard that the black haired boy is Mikado, and you are...?"

Anri, you learn, is a soft spoken girl, but she has an air of attentiveness to her. You'd imagine that, if you had gone to regular school, she would be one of your classmates that always volunteers to answer questions and tutors after class.

"Anri," you repeat, testing the feeling and pronunciation of the girl's name, "I love your haircut! Y'know, I have a pair of earrings that would look absolutely darling with your bob, are your ears pierced?"

Anri raises her fingers to her unpierced ears almost contemplatively. You hope that she's considering it.

"I'm assuming this whole fashion advice habit is sorta your thing, huh?" Masaomi remarks, not bothering to hide the way he was scrutinizing your choice of dress. Eh, he could look all he wanted.

You opted for a dress today, layering it over a simple white t-shirt. Flowing just below your knee, the dress was a cute shade of pastel green, peppered with a purple floral pattern. 

"I guess you could call it that. I'm planning on studying it for the next four years, after all."

"Y-you're a college student!?" Mikado's bewilderment is cute. How old did he think you were?

"Technically no, not yet. I'm taking a gap year right now!"

You end up talking to the three students for a good while. Turns out they're all first years at Raira Academy. Mikado was recently in the same boat as you, having arrived in the city not too long ago. Masaomi, while having calmed down his advances, still continued making innocent passes at you. You pay no mind to it, assuming he was trying--and most likely failing--to make his two friends jealous.

You also find out that Mikado and Anri are not a couple. Although, the way they change color at the implication of them being together was very telling.  Oh yeah, Masaomi was definitely third-wheeling it.

"Anri, you should come over to my place sometime and we can have a sleepover!" You say right as you all decide to go separate ways. You pull up the contact screen on your phone and hand it to her.

She seems hesitant, and almost put off by this. Thankfully, she still puts her number in and hands the device back to you.

"Aw man! Totally snubbed!!" Kida groans. You don't feel guilty enough to keep yourself from laughing.

"Sorry fellas. No boys allowed!"

You send the three one last wave goodbye before they head off, happy to have met more nice people. It was fun getting to know these kids. This was the closest thing you had to interacting with people in your age group. Most of your life was spent sheltered at home and you didn't have very many memories of having friends that weren't private teachers. It was honestly a little lonely. You could only imagine how much you had missed out on...

Realizing how sunken your spirits had gotten, you forced a smile back on your face. None of that matters now. You were in the big city, and you had  already made some awesome friends! Now was a better time than ever to catch up on all of those memories.

Yeah, you decided, I'm gonna take this city by sto--

A man's voice. A vicious battlecry, oozing with rage and intensity. Through the furious growl, you can almost make out a name. 

Something speeds past you, the breeze strong enough to whisk the fabric of your dress. 

Nice jacket, you think, at the sight of a man who at that moment was basically airborne. In broad daylight, his entire form is shrouded with darkness. A dark coat over a dark top and dark pants, topped with dark hair. It's almost in slow motion, the way he ricochets off of a bench, practically flying up onto a nearby streetlamp. 

It's once he lands that you both lock eyes. His gaze is sharp, pinning you in place. Even from the distance, you can see how the corners of his mouth stretch into a smile. It never occurred to you that a smile could be unfriendly. No, this was wolfish; off-putting.

Suddenly, you hear a loud rumbling behind you, as if something had been destroyed. Your staring contest is broken as his focus is now on something behind you. You follow his gaze in curiosity, wondering what could have made such a noise.

A... flying traffic sign. 

A flying traffic sign that was hurtling directly towards you.

It seemed to teleport, how fast it seemed to be inches from you. All you could think to do was raise your arms to your face in a pathetic attempt to protect yourself.

Man, I can't catch a break, can I?

#drrr x reader #durarara x reader #durarara #durarara imagines #masaomi kida #anri sonohara #mikado ryugamine #shizuo heiwajima #shizuo heiwajima x reader #shizuo x reader #izaya orihara #izaya x reader #izaya orihara x reader

[chickensoup-4-mysoul]

Just read all of Herculean so far and it's some if the best fanfic writing i've seen in a while. There's gotta be more. I need more. Please I beg you.

aaa this is so nice!! thank you for this :) my updates are kind of sporadic, but i always end up coming back to it because of ppl like you who really like it! i have a solid outline, it's just a matter of getting the chapters completely typed up and released. planning on getting out more!

#anon <3 #ask

[chickensoup-4-mysoul]

dancing on my mind (lie ren x gn!dancer!reader)

synopsis: in which you dance right into lie ren's heart <3 ~ college au

word count: 3,712

A/N: so listen....i have loved this man since the moment i first laid eyes on him...and much like the dozens of other characters with 3 lines that I've fallen in love with...there is little to no content for him...so i have made some <3 i also fiend for content of performer/singer/dancer readers...so i have made some <3

warnings: fluff <3 lil jest about friends with benefits but that’s all!! reader is described to wear heels and earrings

The sun had just reached the right position over the horizon to create the prettiest pink hue. The sky bled into a rosy mirage of peaches and blushes. The colors seeped through the large windows and subsequently decorated the bare white walls. 

It was a beautiful sight, one that would normally go hand in hand with the perfect serenity, had the building not grown so busy.

It was around 7:30PM, when most classes had concluded and students are free to spend their evenings how they see fit. For the campus fitness center, this culminated in a rush hour for students looking to get in their daily exercise. Numerous bodies moved through the halls on their way to the track, the pool, weight-lifting machines, or various fitness classes.

Lie Ren didn’t care much for the crowded space. Having just completed his favorite yoga class, he was still riding a peaceful high on his way out. It had been one of those longer days, with classes starting at 9AM and a six-hour shift right after. For six hours, he sat behind the front desk at the fitness center, watching people swipe their membership cards to enter. Occasionally, he would transport a bin of used towels, or check on a machine when a student would find something wrong with it. There was a really enthralling half-hour in which he had the pleasure of mopping sticky energy drink from the lobby floor. 

Still, he was glad that the shift ended in time to catch one of the classes going on downstairs. Ren would quickly clock out, grab a mat, and slip into the very back of the room before the instructor began. He was the last in and first out, sparing himself any troublesome interactions. It wasn’t like he didn’t like to chat with people, but after a grueling day like this, he just wanted to decompress before heading home.

His long strides carried him toward the back exit, the perfect path for those that wanted to avoid the bustle near the front of the building. The chatter faded more and more as the distance increased, and Ren couldn’t help but sigh in relief. The quiet was welcome music to his ears.

That is, until they’re filled with actual music.

A loud, pulsing beat fills the air, the bass of the music so loud that Ren can feel the vibrations beneath his feet. Bright, pop-y synth disturbs the brief moment of stillness. The sigh morphs into an annoyed grunt. He doesn’t know exactly where the music comes from, but he glares in its general direction. The source of the sound doesn’t seem to be too far away, and he can’t help but travel down the hall in search of it. Who on earth would be blasting music right now? He entirely expects to come across a group of people loitering in one of the private rooms.

He finds the room where the music is coming from and sees that he was half right. What he doesn’t expect are the many moving bodies that inhabit the room. There had to be around 12 or so people, arranged in neat, staggered rows. As Ren watched their bodies move, he realized that this was a dance class. A part of him feels a bit foolish, having forgotten about the different types of classes that were offered at the fitness center. To be fair, he had only imagined something like Zumba or Jazzercise. The way that these people were moving appeared to be a completely different form of dance.

The music suddenly fades to a stop. Ren moves to carry on with his day, having satisfied his curiosity. However, a bright flash of color in his periphery catches his attention. 

A figure moves through the rows of people, emerging at the very front of the room. From his position at the window, he can only see their back. He shuffles a bit over to peek into the large wall of mirrors, and that’s when he can finally see their face.

The bright flash of color was the top you wore. It was clearly some sort of leotard or fitness wear, but there was something flattering about the style and color against your skin tone. You wore a pair of heeled, lace-up boots that honestly looked impossible to dance in--but upon further inspection, everyone was wearing some sort of heel or boot. Were they made for dancing?

He couldn’t tell when he transitioned from looking at your outfit to watching you. It dawned on him that you were most likely the instructor for the class.

“Great, guys! We’re almost done. Coming out of that kick, pay attention to that weight shift, because you’re gonna go straight into a turn.”

You demonstrate along with your verbal instructions, your body clearly accustomed to the challenging movements. You kick up your leg, your foot raising almost high enough to make contact with your own face. In seemingly the blink of an eye, you’re balancing on the other end and spinning. It’s a display of grace that Ren can’t bring himself to look away from.

“...and you guys are about to love me because from there it’s just light work. Y’know, it’s disco, just jam, like our parents did in the 80’s.” You smile brightly at your own jest, demonstrating some sort of party step. One of the students raises their hand and asks you to show the whole dance with the music. You kindly agree, asking for a bit of space at the front of the room.

Not having noticed you dancing before, Ren finds himself feeling eager to watch you. As you start the music and begin to move, he is everything but disappointed. Your body seems to burst alive from the first jerk of your shoulders. The movements are fast, and it’s no wonder that everyone is sweating from the sheer effort--but you make it all look easy. Between the moments of rapid motion, you stretch the time for all it’s worth. One lithe arm floats in a wide arch, taking your torso with it, and it’s as though time slows down. All the while, you sport this mirthful smile on your face.

As you finish out your solo performance, answer questions, invite the class to join you, and then have them perform in smaller groups, Ren’s eyes do not leave you once. No matter how many times you did the same dance, he couldn’t help but observe each movement. It’s not until everyone begins to grab their things and file out that he realizes he’d been standing at that window for the past 20 minutes. Just as the first person leaves the room, he’s got his last foot out the back door. 

For some reason, he’s forgotten about the long day he’s had.

...

His next shift doesn’t come for a few more days, and this day is a bit better. One of his lighter schedules, giving him plenty of time to wake up in the morning and prepare breakfast for his roommates. He goes about his usual plans, finishing his shift, slipping into yoga right at 6:28 PM, and sneaking out at 7:29 PM. The usual crowds move through the halls, so he goes to take his usual back exit.

His usually long steps are shorter; slower. Contemplation makes itself known on his furrowed brow. His ears are hyperaware of each echo of his own footsteps. It’s quieter, as usual, but he can’t help but wait for something. Just as the door resides right in front of him, he stops. He spares a glance over his shoulder, his eyes finding the hallway that he had traversed a few days prior. The music that he was looking for was nowhere to be found--but it would only take two seconds to check…

Ren shakes his head, feeling foolish. Why was he so fixated on it? There was work to do, he needed to go home. He pushes the door open, the chilled autumn air caressing his face. That’s when he hears it…

“...6, 7, 8!” 

The door closes, leaving the dry breeze to billow outside. Ren knows exactly where to go this time, having already memorized the path through the labyrinth of halls. He’s at that window again before he can even comprehend it. And there you were.

The class was about the same size. He couldn’t tell if it was all of the same people or some different, but he didn’t care much about that. His focus was immediately drawn to you, in your same spot in front of the mirrors. You wore these long, flared pants that swayed with every step. It seemed to be a whole different dance that you were teaching, your bare feet taking the place of the heeled boots you wore last week. Heat collects under Ren’s skin as the observations float through his head. He was so embarrassingly tuned to every detail. How you would sometimes stumble or lose your balance. How you stopped mid-movement and snorted at your own mistakes. How you kindly answered each and every student’s question. How happy you looked, not only while you danced yourself, but as you watched each student pick up the choreography.

The exact style of movement would often change, along with the music. Sometimes it was contemporary movement to pop music. Others it was more akin to ballet. Often the movement held a sensual quality to it, one that left him feeling a bit flustered.

As he found himself at that window a few times each week, he and those details grew well-acquainted with each other. It became a part of his usual routine. Class for three hours, work for four or five, yoga for one, then your class for 20 minutes. His mind didn’t want to come to grips with the exact reason why. All he knew was that he liked watching you. You reminded him of a swan, the way you moved so gently, yet so proudly. 

One day, he starts to see you as more of an antelope. Where you possessed grace you also showed great strength. He had never written dancing off as less of a sport, but he didn’t realize how much athleticism it required. When you danced, you instantly held such power over anyone who watched, including him; particularly him.

...

“You’ve been getting home a bit later recently.”

Among his three close friends and roommates, it’s Jaune who is the first to notice. Said man is helping Ren dry the remaining clean dishes and return them to their respective cabinets. It’s an offhand comment, just simple small talk--but when it comes to another certain person in the room, nothing can ever be small.

“Huh? What d’ya mean?” Nora drapes her back over the living room sofa. She’s not helping with the dishes, considering her contribution to be finishing the leftovers. It balances out, considering she does a lot of the more strenuous chores.

“Oh, well, I just noticed because we have dinner right at 8, and you usually get in a good bit before then. But you’ve been getting home just before 8.”

Jaune and Ren got along well for multiple reasons, one being that they were both creatures of habit. They found comfort in schedules and routine. It’s only natural that if one of them broke that routine, even by the slightest bit, the other would notice.

“Did your yoga class get moved?” Pyrrha chimes in.

“Um, no…” For a moment, Ren doesn’t know what to say. He himself hadn’t even registered that he was getting home later than usual. As far as he knew, he was going about his regular schedule. What could possibly be putting him behind….

Oh.

Nora instantly perks up at his lack of explanation. “Oooo, somebody’s got a secret. What is it, huh? Now you’ve gotta tell us!” Jaune eyes Ren apologetically, knowing that he’s opened up Pandora’s box and now there’s no way to close it. Nora practically teleports beside him, poking and prodding him from all angles.

“You got something up your sleeve? Planning a party? For which one of us? Or is it all of us? You makin’ a massive cake you don’t want us to see? Taking care of a stray kitten on the street? Visiting a long-lost friend’s grave? Got a special someone you don’t want us to know about?”

The flush of Ren’s neck is so light and so subtle that any normal person wouldn’t notice it. But Nora is Nora. The redhead squeals in victory at the sight.

“OH MY GOSH. I’m right! You have a boyfriend!? Or- a girlfriend! Or partner!”

“I-it’s not like that.” Ren has never been one to stutter. His chest sinks as he realizes how deep he has dug himself into a hole.

“Oh, so it’s not serious yet! Just a talking stage? Or is it friends with ben--!” Nora’s voice is muffled by the hand Pyrrha has affectionately placed over her mouth. Ren borderline collapses in relief. 

“Nora, you can’t push him like that. If he wants us to know, he’ll tell us.” While he appreciates Pyrrha’s voice of reason, he does not care for the knowing smile she gives him. Nor does he completely accept Nora’s half-hearted apology, not while her eyes are still gleaming with satisfaction.

The heat in his face is stubborn and doesn’t fully dissipate until later that night when he’s laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling. He feels terribly, terribly embarrassed. Not because of Jaune’s innocent questioning or Nora’s pestering--but because when Nora mentioned a “special someone”...

…he thought of you.

You, whose name he didn’t even know, who he had never even talked to face to face, who probably didn’t even know he existed. He had to be honest. Red didn’t just come to that window to watch the dancing. He came to admire your talent and brightness. It left him walking away feeling much lighter. 

Just as the tingling in his face had just died down, it returns tenfold. He felt like a little schoolboy, making goo goo eyes at a stranger from across the room. It was nothing obsessive, or deeper than a charmed curiosity, but that didn’t make it any less embarrassing. 

Ren didn’t go back down that hallway for a week. Even when rush hour hit and the lobby quickly flooded with students, he shuffled through the crowds and left through the front entrance. He ashamedly knew that if he took the usual back door, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. He decided to get rid of this infatuation before it culminated in something truly embarrassing. 

He eventually succeeds in forgetting about you, at least that’s what he’s convinced himself. Some days, he even takes his usual back exit, priding himself in his self control. He gets home at 7:40 PM, just like he’s supposed to--and when Nora starts to tease him, he gives her the same, level response.  “You’re misunderstanding. It’s not anything like that.”

The first half of the semester is almost over, with only a few more midterms until fall break. To Ren’s pleasure, the number of students oncampus is already beginning to taper out, with many students finishing their midterms early enough to leave campus. It’s a peaceful shift at the front desk and he decides to indulge in a book he’s been reading. He’s still attentive to anybody that approaches the desk, but all they have to do is swipe a card and wait for a beep of approval. His nose remains buried in the book for many hours with little interruption. 

“Excuse me…”

Spoke too soon. It’s the first person to request assistance all day, so he’s happy to snap his book closed and give them his full attention. However, the “how can I help you” dies on his tongue the moment that he meets the person’s gaze.

You smile at him, brief confusion flashing over your eyes at his frozen state. “Sorry to bother…My card’s not working on the reader. Do you think you could sign me in?”

You wore an oversized shirt that draped off of your shoulder. A pair of neon green headphones decorated your neck. The canvas bag hanging over your shoulder had paint splatters all over it. Details fill his head against his will. The color of your eyes, the way you’ve styled your hair, the earrings that dangled by your cheeks. It’s even more overwhelming now that he’s seeing you face to face. 

He forces his eyes away from your face, trying to avoid staring at you for too long. “Yes, no problem. I’ll take that for you.” 

The card almost slips through his fingers as you hand it to him. He grips it tightly, reading the ID number and carefully typing it into the computer to sign you in. “(Y/N) (L/N)?” He reads the name that pops up on the screen. It tingles on his teeth before dancing off of his lips. You nod, still giving him that toothy smile. He hands you back your card and you slip it into your pocket.

“Thanks…” You eyes dart to the name tag over his heart. “...Ren! See you later.”

You grin at him over your shoulder as you walk away. His book sits on the desk beside him, long forgotten as his brain cycles through what just transpired. Did he stare at you too much? Had his hands been shaking? Was he too cold towards you? Whatever progress he had made in the past few days, he was back at square one.

No, after the way you smiled at him, he was much worse.

Ren would not accept responsibility for thinking about you for the rest of the shift. Nor would he accept responsibility for taking the back exit that day. Nor would he accept it for completely giving in to his impulse to check that godforsaken window. To his surprise, and his disappointment, the room was empty; the lights shut off and not a body to be seen. A frustrated sigh leaves him. Nice one, Ren. Now you just look like an idiot.

“Oh, hello!”

The sigh is immediately yanked back in the form of a gasp. A door beside him has opened and a body has appeared, almost simultaneously. There you were, a bit sweaty but still grinning. He doesn’t return your greeting, too focused on willing a hole to open in the ground beneath him. “Ren, right? Sorry, fitness classes were canceled this week for break. I was just using the space for a bit while I had it reserved,” you explain, pulling your headphones from your ears to your neck. “But they’ll start up again end of next week. Feel free to come join!”

Through his mortification seeps confusion at your offer. “I’m sorry?”

“I see you watching a lot! I know it may look intimidating, but I promise it’s really fun. Hey, I still have some time right now if you want me to teach something quick. I wouldn’t mind!”

Ren’s ears start ringing at “I see you watching a lot”, but he picks up enough of what you say after. You…noticed him? He doesn’t know whether to feel chagrined or…oddly flattered.

“N…no,” he finally responds. “I’m not a dancer.”

“Ah, really! But you’ve got such an elegance to you.”

Something leaps in his chest and he realizes that it’s his heart. He shouldn’t have told you that. What other excuse will he have now for watching your classes so often? What could he say that wouldn’t make him sound like a total creep? 

“I just like to watch,” he says carefully. You nod in understanding.

“I see…well, I’m flattered that you enjoy the class! I’m sort of new to this whole teaching thing, so…” Your nails scratch at the nape of your neck out of bashful habit. “It means a lot.”

“But I imagine you’ve been dancing for a while? You’re very good.” For probably the first time in forever, Ren’s mouth moves before his brain does. He doesn’t even know why he’s still talking. Why prolong this obviously awkward, uncomfortable interaction?

But the look on your face isn’t awkward or uncomfortable at all. Instead, you’re beaming at him. “You’re sweet! I’m actually a bit of a late bloomer. I didn’t start taking actual classes until junior year of high school. Most dancers I meet and teach, they’ve been doing it since they could walk.”

Insecurity flashes briefly over your face. A less perceptive person wouldn’t catch it, but Ren sees it clear as day in the crease of your brow and twitch of your smile. He wonders what he can do to make it wash away. He wants to make it wash away.

“I bet that can be intimidating, being next to people with more experience. But from what I’ve seen, you really have a gift.”

The tension in your face melts in favor of a wide stare, your cheeks warm and jaw falling open. The praise catches you off guard. With Ren standing there, looking back at you so sincerely, you can’t help but grow a little flustered. He picks up on that too, and begins to worry if he said to much. He opens his mouth to backtrack, but you beat him to the punch.

“Th-thank you. Really.” Your humble simper sends a shot of warmth through him. After watching you carry yourself so boldly during each of your classes, it was odd to see you act so…modest. New, but charming. Everything about you was charming. Something deep within him knew there was no going back to forgetting you after this. “Well hey, how busy are you right now? We’ve talked about me, but I wanna know about you. You hungry?”

It was a foreign experience to him, being invited out so brazenly. His heart was already hammering in his chest…he’s not sure he’d survive another hour or so with you. But you were looking at him so kindly, it actually swayed his unrest a great deal. Your presence was both rousing and comforting. While you waited patiently, he knew his answer for quite a while before he could actually admit it.

He was definitely getting home a lot later than usual.

#rwby #rwby x reader #lie ren #lie ren x reader #nora valkyrie #pyrrha nikos #jaune arc #gender neutral reader

[chickensoup-4-mysoul]

herculean(drrr x f!reader) - chapter 1

chapter 1 - Warm Welcome

synopsis: (Y/N) Brigall. An aspiring fashion student far from home, visiting the rousing Ikebukuro to study the distinguished styles that the city has to offer. It's clear to those around her that she most definitely came to the wrong place. 

But unbeknownst to even herself, she's exactly where she's meant to be.

word count: 4,158

A/N: hello! this is actually a story that i have on ao3 under chickensoup4mysoul, i wanted to transfer it to this blog :) i’ll be posting individual/lumped chapters here, but you can find the rest over there!

warnings: minor violence, attempted kidnapping

"i got a taste of the good life, i was feelin' alright and i was in the backseat, it was a long day i was in a taxi on the cross island parkway,, good life - sammy rae & the friends

Despite it being well into the night, the subway was still pretty full. Many men and women returning from a tiring day at work, some preparing for a grueling night shift, others getting ready for a night on the town. Your grip on the pole tightens as everything suddenly skids to a stop, the doors of the small space opening. You are one of the first to leave, itching to free yourself from the tight confines of the train car. After all, you had been crammed into nothing but tight spaces for the past numerous hours; a plane, taxi, busses, and a couple of subway stations. While there had to be a quicker way to complete the journey to Ikebukuro, you didn't mind gaining experience in traveling. If you were going to be living here for a year, you needed to know how to get around!

        On the other hand, the presence of just as many people in the station didn't give you much more room to breathe. You know what? You'll get used to it. This is a city! An excited buzz seemed to overtake you at the reminder of where exactly you were. 

Ikebukuro. A big city as city-like as cities could get, yet still so underrated where you were from. You had only been familiar with the exact location for a short while before you actually moved there. 

        Weaving through the labyrinth of individuals, you became increasingly aware of how everyone seemed to blend together. A blur of beige skin tones varying in darkness and lightness, arrays of wardrobes combined into a muted color scheme. You briefly wondered how much you, a visitor, stood out. Perhaps your choice of dress didn't do much to help.

        Your platform sandals clicked against the tile of the subway station as you made a beeline for the exit. Of course, comfort was important when traveling, but not at the expense of style. A pair of striped culottes and an adorably lettuce-trimmed tank-top did the trick. A classic juxtaposition of a simply styled intricate pattern and an intricately styled, solid color. With some cute chunky jewelry as accessories, you had put together quite the ensemble for your first night in the bustling city.

        Despite the independent course of study you had taken, you couldn't doubt that you had quite the knack for fashion. A knack that you were sure could lead to a wonderful career. The plan was to attend university, solidify your studies, and gain some connections that would kickstart your profession as perhaps a consultant? Designer? However, you decided that before that, you should take a gap year to expand your horizons. After all, you had only explored the world of fashion available at your fingertips through magazines and the internet. Even with your affluence, your father had never found much use in petty vacationing.

Ah, father.

A smile of adoration overtook your face. Your beloved father. A wealthy man who took you under his wing when you were an infant and raised you singlehandedly. Even though his scientific studies greatly pre-occupied him, he always ensured that you were well-taken care of. Even now, as you are so far away, he's providing abundant financial support for your pursuit of your dreams. 

So loving, so generous. Your heart swells at the thought.

A pleasant chill racks your body as your skin meets the cool night air. Now this was the feeling that you were looking forward to. While still crowded with life, you now had the beautiful night sky, accentuated by the towering skyline. 

The journey to your apartment was a bit of a walk from the subway station. However, you'd be damned if you were going to run straight inside after being couped up for so many hours. Looking at the directions on your phone, you walk away from where it instructs, opting to follow the cluster of light that you hoped was some sort of shopping center.

In terms of cities that never sleep, Ikebukuro gave New York a run for its money. The plaza buzzed with the chatter of numerous conversations. Unlike the subway station, there was thankfully a bit more space as people passed you in different directions. You treat yourself to a short walk, figuring you deserved it. Peeking at different storefronts as you pass, you take note of the places that interest you. A cute bakery, a pet store, a gift shop, and--oooo you would definitely need to explore that clothing store!! 

You catch a glimpse of one of the mannequins and your heart has been won. You can already picture a million ways to style those pieces. Although, your wardrobe was extensive enough and you shouldn't waste father's funds...

Aw, what the heck. It was for your studies after all!

You are face to face with what feels like a wall of stone, scarcely cushioned by draping fabric.

"E-excuse me, I'm sorry!" You back up from the wall, looking up to profusely apologize to your victim.

"Is no problem! Place is full of people, best to watch where you are going." He smiles down at you. Far, far down.

Even with such a friendly disposition, there is an obvious aura of power surrounding him. However, any fear you would feel towards him is stifled by his adorable accent. Seems like you weren't the only foreigner after all.

"Of course, you're right. May I ask, would you happen to have been...er... born somewhere else?"

The dark-skinned man beams, seeming proud to answer such an awkward question. "Yes! I come from Russia. You are new face. Not from here either, I am correct?"

You laugh bashfully, discomforted by how seemingly obvious it was. "You caught me! This is my first time in Japan and I'm checking out the area."

"Ah, could not tell! Your Japanese, it is very good. Better than mine."

A sense of pride and relief washes over you. As part of the preparation process to move here, you obviously had to pick up some Japanese lessons. Luckily, you were assigned a great teacher that helped you understand the language. It was one of your main anxieties that you wouldn't be able to communicate with people, but it seems like you're doing better than you had anticipated! You beam gratefully at the man.

He catches you eyeing the flyers he's holding and immediately pushes one into your face. You take it from him, immediately taking note of the words "Russia's Sushi" written crudely in Japanese.

"You are by yourself, yes? I can assure that Russia's Sushi is the best place in town! Good when you are hungry, or when you need help with anything," his demeanor suddenly shifts, his gaze sobering in a matter of seconds, "Anything at all."

"O-oh, thank you! I will definitely visit the next time I'm in the area." You're put off by the abrupt change in atmosphere. 

"Soon, da?" Uuuuh, you feel threatened.

"Da! Soon, very soon!" You begin walking, deciding now was the time to continue on your way. "It was nice meeting you!"

It was only after you turned away from his kind smile and wave that you realized you didn't get his name, nor did you give him yours. You shrug it off, deciding not to worry about it. He's always gonna be at the sushi place, isn't he? You could find him later, no problem. 

Just a couple more minutes, you promise yourself, as you walk past one last strip of storefronts. As you approach the window of a comic book store, you're startled when the door swings open. Two walking stacks of manga emerge in front of you.

Wait, not manga. Their faces are obscured, but you can identify a woman in a long black dress and a man in a blue hoodie. They each seem to have put too many eggs in one basket, teetering back and forth to handle the weight of towers of books. 

"You sure this is all of them, Erika? We had to search every aisle of this place!" the presumed male asks.

"Of course, Yumacchi! All 50 copies of Super Tragic High School Life. Can't believe they tried to hide them."

You feel faintly guilty for eavesdropping on their conversation, but they're walking just ahead of you as you all head in the same direction. As they continue their chatter--sounded like there was some sort of special edition hidden in this series of books and they were deadset on finding it--you notice that their loads are becoming gradually harder to carry, swaying and tilting. Suddenly, the boy moves too sharply, upsetting the balance and causing his stack to tumble over.

Only a few steps behind, you scurry ahead to his side, reaching up and pushing the stack back into place before the damage is done. 

"Woah, thanks! That was a close one." The boy's face is still obscured as the he expresses his gratitude.

"No problem, it'd be painful to see so many books in mint-condition be ruined-woah!" You push back another unsteady book with your fingertips, barely reacting in time to catch it. "You wouldn't need help carrying those by any chance, would you?"

Even with their faces covered, the pair turn to each other and seem to engage in some sort of silent communication. After a moment, they turn back to you.

You follow them through the streets of Ikebukuro, having lightened a third of each of their loads. It was a wonder how they were able to find their way around; even with you helping, the stacks still reached the top of their heads.

"Took you guys long enough! And what are you doing with all that crap?" 

The presence of a new voice startles you. It was laidback and reminded you of a teenager's, not too different from the youthfulness of your companions'. You must have reached your destination. As Erika(?) explains how hard their escapade was, you hear the sound of a trunk opening before your stack is suddenly taken out of your hands. It was the man (Yumacchi?), who placed it next to the other two stacks they had stored in the back of a van.

Without any books in the way, you see that the man is blonde. It's hard to place how old he really is, his face carrying a youthful gleam, but not completely absent of mischief. His eyes are slanted and there seems to be a mystery as to what color they really are. 

"Wha-? Woah!!" As he turned back to face you, his face seemed to light up in surprise.

Nevermind, they are a lovely shade of amber. In a flash, you are face-to-face with the energetic duo. The girl, you notice, wore a black cap over dark, braided hair. Her dark eyes shined with the same excitement as her partner's. They were both cuties, you did admit, but you were more occupied with the invasion of your personal space.

"You're a foreigner!" they exclaim in unison. WOW OKAY was it THAT big of a deal?

"Hey hey, Yumacch! Doesn't she totally give off Michiko vibes?"

"You're absolutely right, Erika! Definitely the same exotic, fashionable vibe..."

You're not sure how you feel about being called "exotic", nor do you have any idea who this "Michiko" character is. Unsure of how to respond to their aggressive advances, you smile bashfully. Their faces are suddenly pulled away from you, a pair of heavy hands yanking them back by the shoulders.

"Hey, knock it off! Quit scarin' people with your crazy talk." Another new voice joins the fray. Gravelly and masculine, and honestly making you feel some type of way.

Your savior is a taller, tan-skinned man. He's dressed unobtrusively, his dark green jacket and jeans doing very little to catch the eye. A beanie cuts off some of his face, but you can still make out intense, dark eyes and a stern expression. Erika immediately whines at him for being no fun. Your ears perk at the name "Dotachin" and you wonder if it's some sort of nickname. A small distance behind him is another man, possibly the owner of the teenager's voice. His brown hair is long in length and he dons a swanky vest on top of a button-up. You muster up a sort of appreciation for his rustic sense of style.

"Sorry about those two. Judging from their pestering, doesn't seem like you’re a friend of theirs." 

“Nope! Just a random stranger off of the streets,” you jest, and relish in his apparent amusement at the statement, “I’m (Y/N)! If it hasn’t been made clear, I am visiting from out-of-town. Just arrived in Ikebukuro tonight. You’re...Dotachin, right?”

You are proud of yourself for not bursting out into laughter at the way his face contorts in a matter of seconds. The others do not extend the same courtesy, snickering at his annoyance. You can’t help but notice the glare that he sends Erika.

“Uh...no. Please. Never call me that. Kyohei‘s fine.” His eye seems to twitch for a moment and you feel a little bad. A little. “The two idiots are Walker and Erika. Guy over there is Saburo.”

Ah, so Yumacchi was a nickname as well. The two offenders are currently flipping through the manga, obviously too impatient to hold off their search. Sparing a glance at the blonde, you ponder the Western nature of his name. Erika, seeming to have calmed down, addresses you with a smile.

“So, it’s your first night here, huh? You’ve gotta be crazy to be walking around by yourself,” Erika comments, oblivious to the offensive implication of her words. You shrug, not really blaming her.

“I mean, it’s a big city, so I understand some risks but surely nothing could be any worse than what we deal with back home!” You intend to laugh it off, but the others don’t seem to share the same sentiment.

“You got color gangs back home? Kidnappings down the street?” Saburo remarks from his place against the van.

“A vicious slasher?” Erika chimes in.

“Full-out brawls in the plaza? Oooo, how about a headless rider?” Walker.

Nothing strikes you more than pure bewilderment. Of course, there was a fair share of activity where you grew up, but you were admittedly sheltered from all of it. Seems like there was a lot more to this city than you had initially thought.

“You seem like the kind of person that avoids trouble.” You feel a strong, warm hand on your shoulder and realize that it’s Kyohei’s. He seems to pull it away upon eye contact and you miss it immediately. “As long as you’re smart, you can probably steer clear of all of that.”

You smile and thank him, inwardly relieved that you had found people to tell you all of this.

“Well, I guess I should head home in that case. Wouldn’t wanna run into anything!”

“Where are you staying?” Kyohei asks. You unlock your phone to pull up the location of your apartment. However, you curse at the realization that you had gone very far off-route. Erika and Kyohei peek over your shoulder and notice your dilemma.

“We’ll give you a ride back!” Erika wasn’t offering, but outward stating. Kyohei nodded in agreement and Saburo was already starting the van up again, seemingly unbothered by the task. Welp, no reason to refuse at this point. Not like you were eager to trek back on your own, either.

“Let’s go then, and get out of this damn cold.” Kyohei gestures to the corduroy jacket you had tucked under your arm, “Don’t understand how you can just walk around carrying that jacket like an accessory. How are you not freezing your ass off?”

Compared to the van gang(that’s what you're calling them now, you’ve decided) you’re definitely more scarcely covered in your tank top and sandals. The weather had no bearing on you though, and whatever excruciating cold Kyohei was talking about was just a pleasant chill to you. 

Walker and Erika squeeze into the back, reaching back from their seats to search through more copies of the manga. You squeeze in with them, right behind Saburo in the driver's seat. The two otakus are preoccupied, leaving you to engage in small talk with the men in the front.

Kyohei is polite, asking you simple questions about how your traveling went, if you had made any other friends (You hide your grin at the word "other"), and what had brought you to Ikebukuro. You appreciate the effort, answering accordingly and avoiding oversharing. Saburo and Kyohei chuckle at the mention of a really burly, dark-skinned Russian man who, despite his open demeanor, couldn't help but be intimidating.

"Sounds like Simon, alright," Saburo comments.

"No need to worry about him. Dude hates violence. If anything, you'll want him on your side," Kyohei explains.

You hum, fiddling with the folded flier in your pocket. "Is the sushi any good?"

A huff. Probably his attempt at stifling a laugh, whatever it was, you're kind of charmed by it. "It's...good for what you pay for it."

Not exactly the most promising answer, but you'll take it. Price isn't necessarily something you need to worry about, but it seems like the place holds sentimental value. You decide that you would visit, especially if this group seems to frequent the place.

You continue giving Kyohei your life story, explaining your passion for fashion and how you came to Ikebukuro to explore the bold, nuanced styles of the city. You notice Kyohei quirk a brow at this and he even glances back at you.

"'Nuanced', huh? Why not somewhere cozier, like France? That's, like, a capital, right?"

A simper overtakes your lips at his attempt at understanding the topic. "France is overrated. I wanted somewhere where the fashion wasn't necessarily for the sake of fashion, y'know? Like, Saburo didn't wake up this morning and say: 'I'm gonna wear this snazzy vest today, because that's what Sedgwick would have wanted.' He probably just wore it because it was the first thing he spotted in his closet--and that's candid, and that's valid." 

"Um...thanks?"

"And that's what makes Ikebukuro such a fashion hotspot!!"

Your rant doesn't stop there, but Kyohei respectfully listens. It's nothing he hasn't experienced with Erika and Walker's manga obsessions or Saburo's Ruri Hijiribe fixation. Still, there was something about your sense of wonder, the many things you seemed to be looking forward to--in Ikebukuro, of all places--that rubbed him the wrong way.

...

"You seem smart, you can probably steer clear of all that." Kyohei grimaces at Erika's embarrassing attempt at an imitation of his voice. 

"How macho of you, Kyohei! Sounds like something the wounded warrior hero says to the girl that he secretly harbors feelings for, but doesn’t reveal them to keep her safe!” Even in the small space, Walker still finds a way to gesture in excitement, definitely almost hitting Erika in the face.

“Right?? Dotachin saw a lovely young damsel in distress and knew he had to protect her!”

“Shut up, willya?” 

As they drove away from (Y/N)’s dropoff point, the new visitor was still a topic of conversation. Mainly, how “macho hero” Kyohei was towards her. Granted, it wasn't unusual behavior for the man, but the pair of Otakus would not just ignore his acts of chivalry, towards a young woman, no less.

“Hey, Saburo.”

The driver hums, joining Kyohei in blatantly ignoring the foolishness occurring in the seats behind them.

“I’ve heard a lot of things about Ikebukuro, but nothing about it being a fashion hotspot.”

“Yeah, me neither. Sounds like bullshit to me.”

Kyohei stares at the rapidly moving passerby, deep in thought. Whatever this girl was here for, she certainly did not come to the right place. The idea of people so naive walking straight into the ticking time bomb that is Ikebukuro troubled him, and that wasn’t just regarding (Y/N).

He heaved a sigh, dismissing the unnecessarily convoluted thoughts about someone he had just met. It would be fine, he decided. It was just another random citizen, one who didn’t seem like the type to get wrapped up in the sort of trouble that plagues the city.

What’s the worst a fashion student could get sucked into?

...

Besides being stylish, your platform sandals were also the perfect level of comfort for a long day of travel. Even when you were walking for such a long time through the plaza, not once were you complaining about your feet being sore or tired.

Yeah, walking was great! Running? Not so much.

That was the main thought spiraling through your head as you all but sprinted through different alleyways.

You thanked your new friends one last time before sliding out of the vehicle. After they drove off, you turned to look up at your apartment building. However, you immediately noticed something strange. 

The structure in front of you was not nearly tall enough to be any sort of apartment. You checked the GPS on your phone and realized that you had gotten off on the wrong side of the street. Looking closer, you could catch a glimpse of a much taller building, a small distance behind the building in front of you. You heave a sigh as you realize how long it would take to reach it.

As you walk down the sidewalk, you notice an opening between two of the buildings. It turns out to be an alleyway, most likely leading to the other side of the street. You turn without hesitation or second-thought, distracted by the c onvenience of the shortcut. 

You quickly realize that the alley isn't a straight shoot to the other side and have to turn in a different direction. In an attempt to return to your intended route you turn again. And again. and again. 

So it turns out it wasn't just one building standing between you and sweet, sweet relaxation, but actually 2 or 3. Frustration begins to build as you only seem to get more and more lost. 

"This is ridiculous, I should be in bed by now! Just how late is it?" You think to yourself, taking a quick break to check the time on your phone.

"Not very smart to be wandering this late at night, is it, young lady?"

It was a wonder how you were able to dodge the bat that was swung in your direction. After that lucky break, you immediately tumbled in another direction, desperate to avoid your assailant. However, as soon as you thought you could shake him off, another man appeared in pursuit of you as well.

"Dammit, she's fast!" You hear from behind you, and you realize that a third has joined the fray.

Your sandals aren't comfortable, no, but they don't deter your speed. The different walls and turns become a blur to you as you sprint past, desperately trying to find a way out of the apparent labyrinth you've walked into. 

As you round another corner, you collide with someone else; one of the men that were chasing you. He crumbles to the ground as you stagger backwards, nursing the sting of your forehead. Your back comes in contact with another, small body and a pair of weak arms wrap around you.

"H-Here! She's here!"

The third musketeer appears and your victim, a stout, unkempt man, sluggishly picks himself up from the ground. They are all terribly out of breath, and its pretty obvious that they're out of shape. A tall, lanky man with glasses approaches you, the bat in his hand indicates that he was the one who threw the first blow.

He's seething, infuriated by the chase, his teeth grinding and eyes on fire. He raises the bat and your breath is caught in your throat. The weapon remains suspended in the air, ready to deal damage. After a moment, he deflates, a sinister chuckle seeming to rise from the deepest parts of him.

"You've caused us a lot of trouble, you know that?" The bat falls to his side, he holds out his other hand to the chubby man beside him. You twitch, noticing the quivering frailness of the arms that were locking you in place. The boy holding you couldn't have been much older than you were, of college age.

"Unluckily for you, we're not gonna end it for you so easily." He's been handed a cloth. After watching his friend douse it in liquid from a bottle, you don't want it anywhere near you. "With where you're going? You're gonna wish you'd died here..."

It's so dark now, you can't imagine how late it's gotten. All you can see now are the glints in his glasses, and the cloth descending upon you.

The glints of glasses. The feeling of helplessness. Shrinking under the eyes of someone who has no sympathy for you. Whatever happened to you, it didn't matter to them.

The corner of your mouth twitches. It feels familiar.

That's funny.

#drrr #drrr x reader #izaya orihara x reader #izaya orihara #durarara #durarara x reader #durarara imagines #shizuo heiwajima #shizuo heiwajima x reader #kadota kyohei x reader #kadota kyohei #erika karisawa x reader #erika karisawa #walker yumasaki x reader #walker yumasaki #saburo togusa x reader #saburo togusa #celty sturluson #shinra kishitani #anri sonohara

[chickensoup-4-mysoul]

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Reader, Todoroki Shouto/Reader, Midoriya Izuku/Reader, Kirishima Eijirou/Reader, Kaminari Denki/Reader, Iida Tenya/Reader, Amajiki Tamaki/Reader, Toogata Mirio/Reader, Yaoyorozu Momo/Reader, Sero Hanta/Reader, Uraraka Ochako/Reader, Ashido Mina/Reader, Asui Tsuyu/Reader, Jirou Kyouka/Reader, Class 1-A (My Hero Academia) & Reader Characters: Reader, Amajiki Tamaki, Toogata Mirio, Iida Tenya, Todoroki Shouto, Midoriya Izuku, Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima Eijirou, Kaminari Denki, Sero Hanta, Yaoyorozu Momo, Asui Tsuyu, Ashido Mina, Uraraka Ochako, Jirou Kyouka, Kayama Nemuri | Midnight, Takagi Ken | Rock Lock, Kendou Itsuka, Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Kodai Yui Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, POV Female Character, Multiple Endings, Romance, Humor, Singer Reader, lots of jazz references :))), Midterm Season, it's kiri's bday <33, sophomore year, Alternate Universe - No Quirks (My Hero Academia), some minor characters r in a jazz band, Songfic, ??? - Freeform, ig, No Spoilers, Fluff, kinda sappy ngl, Female Reader, mirio's a bartender <33, tamaki's a waiter <3333 Summary:

after transferring to a new university for your sophomore year, you've managed to land yourself an awesome, dynamic group of friends (all of which are kinda cute). as desired by your parents, you've been the diligent, smart student all your life--and to your friends, you're no different

which is why your true passions are kept close to your chest

(in which you are a performer at an american-style jazz club and you do your damndest to make sure no one knows about it.)

bnha x f!reader

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha imagines #bnha imagines #bakugo katsuki #bakugo katuski x reader #todoroki shouto #todoroki shoto x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya #kirishima eijirou #kirishima eijiro x reader #kaminari denki #kaminari denki x reader #iida tenya #iida tenya x reader #sero hanta #sero hanta x reader #yaoyorozu momo #yaoyorozu momo x reader #uraraka ochako #uraraka ochaco x reader #asui tsuyu #asui tsuyu x reader #jirou kyoka #jirou kyoka x reader #ashido mina #ashido mina x reader #amajiki tamaki #tamaki amajiki x reader

[chickensoup-4-mysoul]

Chapters: 21/? Fandom: Durarara!! Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Orihara Izaya/Reader, Heiwajima Shizuo/Reader, Kadota Kyouhei/Reader, Karisawa Erika/Reader, Yumasaki Walker/Reader, Togusa Saburou/Reader, Sonohara Anri & Reader, Celty Sturluson & Reader, Ryuugamine Mikado & Reader, Kida Masaomi & Reader Characters: Reader, Orihara Izaya, Heiwajima Shizuo, Ryuugamine Mikado, Kida Masaomi, Sonohara Anri, Celty Sturluson, Kadota Kyouhei, Yumasaki Walker, Togusa Saburou, Karisawa Erika, Kishitani Shinra, Simon Brezhnev, Orihara Mairu, Orihara Kururi, Yagiri Namie, Tanaka Tom, Horada (Durarara!!), Kuronuma Aoba, Heiwajima Kasuka Additional Tags: Female Reader, Not Canon Compliant, Romance, Humor, POV Female Character, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, i try to work stuff in as i can so uh, bear with me, also reader is like college freshman age no pedophilia in these parts no ma'am, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, any "& reader" relationships are PLATONIC, Mild Blood Summary:

(Y/N) Brigall.

An aspiring fashion student far from home, visiting the rousing Ikebukuro to study the distinguished styles that the city has to offer.

It's clear to those around her that she most definitely came to the wrong place. But unbeknownst to even herself,

she's exactly where she's meant to be.

(drrr! x reader)

#durarara #durarara imagines #durarara x reader #drrr #drrr x reader #izaya orihara #izaya orihara x reader #shizuo heiwajima #shizuo heiwajima x reader #kadota kyohei #kyohei kadota x reader #erika karisawa #erika karisawa x reader #walker yumasaki #walker yumasaki x reader #saburo togusa #saburo togusa x reader #anri sonohara #masaomi kida #mikado ryugamine #shinra kishitani #celty sturluson

[chickensoup-4-mysoul]

Chapters: 8/? Fandom: Durarara!! Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Orihara Izaya/Reader, Heiwajima Shizuo/Reader, Kadota Kyouhei/Reader, Karisawa Erika/Reader, Yumasaki Walker/Reader Characters: Reader, Orihara Izaya, Heiwajima Shizuo, Ryuugamine Mikado, Kida Masaomi, Sonohara Anri, Celty Sturluson, Kadota Kyouhei, Yumasaki Walker, Togusa Saburou, Karisawa Erika, Kishitani Shinra, Simon Brezhnev Additional Tags: Female Reader, Not Canon Compliant, Romance, Humor, POV Female Character, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, i try to work stuff in as i can so uh, bear with me, also reader is like college freshman age no pedophilia in these parts no ma'am, Other Additional Tags to Be Added Summary:

(Y/N) Brigall.

An aspiring fashion student far from home, visiting the rousing Ikebukuro to study the distinguished styles that the city has to offer.

It's clear to those around her that she most definitely came to the wrong place. But unbeknownst to even herself,

she's exactly where she's meant to be.

(drrr! x reader)

#made a lot of updates since my last post so i'm posting again :D #durarara x reader #durarara #durarara imagines #izaya orihara #izaya x reader #shizuo heiwajima #shizuo x reader #izaya orihara x reader #shizuo heiwajima x reader #kadota kyohei #erika karisawa #walker yumasaki #celty sturluson #anri sonohara #kadota kyohei x reader #erika karisawa x reader #walker yumasaki x reader

[chickensoup-4-mysoul]

Chapters: 6/? Fandom: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Dangan Ronpa Ensemble/Reader, Reader/Everyone Characters: Reader, Original Female Character(s), Naegi Makoto, Maizono Sayaka, Ishimaru Kiyotaka, Enoshima Junko, Fujisaki Chihiro, Ogami Sakura, Oowada Mondo, Asahina Aoi, Fukawa Touko, Celestia Ludenberg, Togami Byakuya, Hagakure Yasuhiro, Kuwata Leon, Yamada Hifumi, Kirigiri Kyouko, Monokuma (Dangan Ronpa) Additional Tags: Spoilers, Female Reader, Angst, reader's a bit of a thirsty gal Summary:

She was so used to creation that destruction rendered her helpless. Kingdoms have been fortified around her for years, but what will she do when her empire is b u r n e d down to her feet?

(Female Reader x DR Trigger Happy Havoc)

#dont mind me just dumping my fics onto this tumblr #danganronpa #dangnronpa x reader #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa trigger happy havoc #makoto naegi #sayaka maizono #kiyotaka ishimaru #junko enoshima #chihiro fujisaki #sakura ogami #mondo oowada #aoi asahina #touko fukawa #celestia ludenberg #byakuya togami #yasuhiro hagakure #leon kuwata #hifumi yamada #kyouko kirigiri #monokums #makoto naegi x reader #sayaka maizono x reader #kiyotaka ishimaru x reader #junko enoshima x reader #chihiro fujisaki x reader #sakura ogami x reader #mondo oowada x reader #aoi asahina x reader #touko fukawa x reader

[chickensoup-4-mysoul]

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Durarara!! Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Orihara Izaya/Reader, Heiwajima Shizuo/Reader, Kadota Kyouhei/Reader, Karisawa Erika/Reader, Yumasaki Walker/Reader Characters: Reader, Durarara!! Characters Additional Tags: Female Reader, Not Canon Compliant, Romance, Humor, POV Female Character, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, i try to work stuff in as i can so uh, bear with me, also reader is like college freshman age no pedophilia in these parts no ma'am, Other Additional Tags to Be Added Summary:

(Y/N) Brigall.

An aspiring fashion student far from home, visiting the rousing Ikebukuro to study the distinguished styles that the city has to offer.

It's clear to those around her that she most definitely came to the wrong place. But unbeknownst to even herself,

she's exactly where she's meant to be.

(drrr! x reader)

#i know this fandom is a little stagnant but i wanted to damn CONTENT #durarara x reader #durarara!! #durarara #durarara imagines #izaya orihara #shizuo heiwajima #kadota kyohei #erika karisawa #walker yumasaki #celty sturluson #izaya orihara x reader #shizuo heiwajima x reader #kadota kyohei x reader #erika karisawa x reader #walker yumasaki x reader #drrr x reader

[chickensoup-4-mysoul]

Melodic Voice (Nagito Komaeda x reader)

Word count: 930 words

Summary: No music you had ever heard could outdo the sound of his voice.

Author’s Note: boop boop I submitted this somewhere but imma put it here too

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            You tilted your head toward the dark and shimmering sky, closing your eyes. Your chest felt empty, yet you could feel a dull ache forming. A deep breath collected in your chest, before simply dying on your lips. It was no use. No matter how much you sighed, it wouldn’t dispel the agonizing pressure in your heart. This type of night was one of many, where your mind became too damp with dreary puddles to grant you an ounce of sleep.

            It grew into a routine, really. On those nights, you would wrap yourself in a blanket and travel all the way to the beach in hopes of calming your mind. Sometimes, when the sound of crashing waves wasn’t enough, you brought earphones and a music player. The sound of music flowing steadily through your ears was reassuring, as if the stream was filling the emptiness within you. You tapped your toes to happy tunes and hummed solemnly to sad ones.

              As you swayed slightly to the rhythm of another soft tune, you felt something move in front of you. You opened your eyes sluggishly, curious as to what could be moving about at this hour. His pale skin practically glowed and for a second you thought he was an angel. His serene smiling and messy yet soft looking hair only fueled this thought, until you finally recognize the boy as Nagito Komaeda, a boy from your class. You pulled your earphones out and stared up at him.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked. You shook your head, and diverted your gaze to the sand beneath you, not bothering to mask your melancholy. The boy frowned slightly and crouched down to your level.

“It’s disheartening seeing such a bright beacon of hope in such a mournful state. Would you mind telling me what’s wrong?” he said, giving you a small smile.

              You nodded your head yes, you did mind. He tilted his head at your response, before nodding.

“Well, I guess that’s alright. I’m sure whatever it is, you’ll be able to overcome it. After all, even the darkest of despair can be defeated by the hope that shines within you.”

              You stared at Komaeda absentmindedly as he began to rant on about hope and despair. The words themselves fell upon deaf ears, however, as you were too distracted by something else.

His voice.

              The smooth tone of his voice was better than any music you had ever heard. The low, somewhat raspy melody put you in a trance that sent shivers down your spine. Komaeda noticed you staring and seized speaking, smiling sheepishly.

“Ah, my bad. I bet my lowly presence is annoying you. I’ll leave you be-.”

“P-please,” you called out to him before he could walk away, “Stay with me.”

Komaeda’s eyes widened in surprise. He looked at you, searching for any sign that you were joking. You patted the spot next to you.

“Please…? I...wanna hear you talk some more,” you muttered, slightly embarrassed.                  

The pale boy beamed, sitting where you had gestured to. He turned his head to you with cheerful smile.

“I’m very honored that someone as hope filled as you desires company from scum like me.” You couldn’t help but frown a little.

“Y-You’re not scum. At least, I don’t think you are. Your presence is nice,” you whispered weakly, your voice wavering slightly. He simply turned to the ocean, still wearing that relaxed, yet somewhat unnerving smile.

“You said you wanted to hear me talk?” He asked, “What do you want me to talk about?”

“Anything you want. I just want to hear more of your voice, if that’s okay,” you explained, resting your head on your arms.

Komaeda had some trouble picking a topic at first, but once he realized that you wouldn’t judge him, he talked a bit easier. He told you about random things. How his day went, what food he liked, a book he had read. Sometimes you would respond with some small remarks here or there, but you were mostly focused on him. As time went on, you began to grow tired. Your head sunk until it found its way to Komaeda’s shoulder. He faltered a bit, but continued talking.

“(Y/N).”

You hummed in response, opening your eyes and glancing at the boy next to you.

“Are you feeling better?” You gave him a faint smile and nodded. He returned it and stood up, lending you a hand.

“We should get back to our rooms. Tomorrow will be hard if you don’t get any sleep.” He said, helping you up.

The two of you walked through the island in silence. Even without him talking, you found yourself at peace with him. It wasn’t just his voice, it was all of him that you grew to like, you had found. His soft smiles and chuckles and his laidback demeanor made him a very comforting person to be around. You silently hoped you could spend time with him more often.

When you found yourself standing in front of your cottage, you suddenly felt reluctant to enter. You turned to Komaeda, who stared at you expectantly. Without much of a second thought, you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around him. He stiffened in surprise, before relaxing. He hesitantly reciprocated, wrapping his arms around your waist. You muttered a small ‘thank you’ before hurrying into your cottage. Once the door shut, you leaned against the door. A deep breath collected in your lungs, flowing through your nostrils in a gust of both air and relief.

And the aching flew away with it.

#danganronpa #nagito komaeda #komaeda nagito #super dangan ronpa 2 #sdr2 #reader insert

[chickensoup-4-mysoul]

Children’s Game (Hajime Hinata x reader)

Word count: 848 words

Summary: You honestly don’t know why you agreed to play this childish game.

Author’s Note: first time writing for this blog! hope it turns out okay!

Your name: submit What is this? // <![CDATA[ function replaceAll(find, replace, str) { return str.replace(new RegExp(find, 'g'), replace); } function myHandler() { var input = document.getElementById("inputTxt").value; document.body.innerHTML = replaceAll('Y/N', document.getElementById("inputTxt").value, document.body.innerHTML); } // ]]>

               You sighed as the ‘game over’ screen on your phone flashed. The fuzzy feeling in your legs indicated that they had fallen asleep. It would be rude to state that you were bored, but you definitely weren’t very well entertained at the moment. The sound of laughter immediately gained your interest. When you looked up, you saw Kazuichi, his skin marked with what appeared to be soot and ashes. He sat down hurriedly, an embarrassed grimace decorating his now cluttered face. Oh, that’s right. You were playing Truth or Dare.

               When Ibuki had pulled you all into a circle, claiming to have ‘the funnest most awesome idea!’ you had hoped it was something that would keep you all excited and lively. Instead, it ended up being some game that preteens play. To be honest, some of the group were actually acting like preteens, targeting and picking on each other to get them to do ridiculous things. You sat next to a sparkly-eyed Sonia, who seemed to be enjoying the game, and the aforementioned musician herself. If you did recall correctly, she had been the one who dared Kazuichi to do… whatever crazy thing.

               You shook your head and returned your attention to your game, grinning a little when Kazuichi eagerly asked Sonia to pick truth or dare. The chatter eventually turned into muffled background noise as time began to pass. No one had yet to pick you for a turn, and honestly, you were a bit grateful. Games like these only ended badly. After a while, you gave up on your game. You leaned on Sonia’s shoulder, much to Kazuichi’s displeasure, and rested your eyes. It didn’t seem that anyone would be calling you soo-

“Y/N.”

               Oh? You opened one of your eyes, expecting to see one of your friends grinning at you smugly, eager to have you answer some embarrassing question or commit some embarrassing action. Instead, you were met with two olive green eyes. The boyish face of Hajime Hinata was right in front of you. Way closer than you had expected. While you had no complaints, it still startled you.

“Y-Yes?”

               You cursed yourself for stuttering. His face flushed slightly, and he seemed nervous about something. You left Sonia’s shoulder, sitting up straight and staring at him expectantly. You tried your best to ignore the eyes of everyone else in the room staring at you. Finally, Hajime took your chin between his fingers, tilting your head up slightly. He gulped, staring into your intensely. You tried your best to keep your composure, as you began to understand what he was doing and oh god was he leaning in wait wait

               The heavy sound of your heart seemed to echo through your head as his lips met yours. It was a simple, innocent kiss that lasted only for a couple of seconds. So why were you so flustered? You felt heat burst beneath your skin where he had touched you. When he pulled away, you brought your fingers to your lips. Hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if steam was coming out of your ears. The sounds of cheers and cooing from your classmates met your ears.

“Sorry,” you heard the boy mutter. His cheeks had a flushed a bit more, and embarrassment flooded his eyes. However, you saw something else that you couldn’t identify.

“Its fine,” you whispered, not sure if he had actually heard you.

               The game went on for a little while longer, but just like before you weren’t paying any attention. However, unlike before, you had something that was clouding your mind. All you could think about was Hajime Hajime Hajime. When you accidentally locked eyes with him, it only made your thoughts worse. It was stupid. You didn’t even think about him that way! Not until now! Sure, he was more down to earth than most and his presence was comforting and he was really nice to be around and talk to, but that didn’t mean you liked him! Forget about his smooth tan skin and nice eyes and broad shoulders and-

Oh.

               After a while, everyone decided it was time to turn in for the night. Everyone began to return to their rooms. Before you could return to yours, you felt someone grab your wrist. You turned, and came face to face with the same boy that had been occupying your thoughts.

“H-Hey…,” he said, rubbing the back of his head.

“Hi.”

The two of you stood there awkwardly, avoiding each other’s eyes. Finally, he took a deep breath catching your attention.

“I’m really sorry for embarrassing you like that,” he said.

“It’s okay. I wasn’t embarrassed. Besides, you were dared to, right?” you said.

               He seemed relieved, a small smile taking place on his features. Instead of letting go of your wrist, he took hold of your hand. You felt your cheeks heat up at the gesture.

“I’ll walk you to your room,” he said, beginning to walk with you in his stead.

“O-Oh, okay. Thanks,” you said, smiling slightly.

Maybe games like these don’t always end badly after all.

#danganronpa #Hajime Hinata #hinata hajime #super dangan ronpa 2 #sdr2 #reader insert