FORTISSIMO OF IKEBUKURO

Heiwajima Shizuo Rp Blog. Penned by  Spence (A.k.a  ohshitheereigoagain) Native spanish speaker.  +10 years of rp 

[heiiwajimas]

this week has been awful

[heiiwajimas]

I remember you. ;) Hi Spence!

YOU DO¡!? aaah, this makes me happy .!! 

 but who ARE you gray-anon-black glasses, stranger!?

[heiiwajimas]

one of those urban legends you might not want to meet in a lone road on a bad day.  Or rather probably  any other day if you are Orihara Izaya . 

Written by Spencer

[tima520]

平和島静雄

[heiiwajimas]

@memoirite​

It’s been nearly two years.

Heiwajima Shizuo watched the smoke of his fifth cigarette in a row curling the air.  Two years and not a single trace of that smell. Almost two fucking years, but the grasp on his heart didn’t go away.   That twisted bastard wouldn’t give it away so easily, he just wouldn’t leave him alone.  Not even inside his thoughts.  

“Well well…whoo doo wee have heeere” A drunk voice came up from behind “didn’t you know this is our territory HUH?” Down the alley, Shevanne an old cocaine dealer that has been pestering Bunokura’s streets has just arrived with his five-member gang.  But Shizuo wouldn’t listen to them, not yet.  “Haaa?  look at this dumb deaf fuck  guuys.. ” Shevanne blasters, a laugh. He doesn’t know who is he messing around “maybe we should show him some manners…”

There was a sound….a sound of a bottle breaking over his head.

Shizuo could feel it, the cold beer mingling with the warmth of his own blood as it ran down his eyes. A bolt of rage finally waved into o his chest, gripping the promise he made just a few days ago to Tom, to everyone.

“ manners… ” he muttered as he flicked his fingers, breaking the cigarette away.  Sudenly, with no warning, there is a wicked wham from a pipeline followed instantaneously by a metallic screech, a chilling banshee yell, as it is ripped from its place.  “Yeah, that would be great.”

“Yoooou….” Shevanne steps back , his gang exchanges looks of mutual horror as they run away not waiting for his boss anymore 

“WHAT HE HELL ARE YOOOU?”

[memoirite]

In a nearby coffee shop, a fork clattered against a plate.

For a moment, Izaya was back in Ikebukuro. For a moment, a vending machine was about to be flung right at him. That yell.. even muffled by the cafe’s soundproof windows, even after all of this time, it was enough to jab right through his heart, stricken with something akin to paranoia. It couldn’t be. Surely his ears playing tricks on him. What would he be doing in Bunokura?

“Izaya-san? Is something wrong?” Asked Haruto, tearing him out of his thoughts. The kid eyed the fallen fork with concern, then held it up to him until he slowly took it. The girl beside him had no interest in the conversation whatsoever, nibbling on what’s left of her croissant.

“…Not at all. Did you two enjoy the meal?” He asked back, smiling at Haruto when the other nodded his head vigorously. The old man was up by the register, studying the menu thoroughly as if he’d be tested on it. Izaya leaned back in his seat with a silent sigh, observing as people went about their mundane lives on the other side of the window. Not one yellow-haired person was in sight. He took another sip of his coffee, letting the steaming liquid burn his tongue.

[heiiwajimas]

A siren goes off.  It’s loud. Its red, flashing light illuminates the sidewalk,  every head on the streets turned to follow the yellow and blue streak, and every heart on the street skipped a beat as the ambulance weaved through the traffic.   A woman shouts out when the dry sound hits a window. The jazz music stops as a human body slips on the glass, leaving a crack behind.  Everyone starts to get up, chaos breaks loose. “Please evacuate  the building as soon as possible, and please do not panic.” one of the waitresses begs to the crowd, but the stampede can’t wait. Everyone flees in desperation. Some out of morbid curiosity to know what has happened to the body, others because their instinct told them to move far, far away.

Or the same thing will happen to them. “Sir we need to evacuate everyone …” theres a small scared plea next to Izaya, another waitress has come for them. "Please, we can’t just…“ there was another screech as a lamppost looped through one of the windows from the south of the town. ” S-sir “  the waitress cries out , her friends drag her away from the man in the wheelchair for safety.  A blond flash shows a few blocks away. Heiwajima Shizuo, stands out from an alley trailing a vending machine behind him. A police car comes screeching down the hill, a knight in his white charger, black tires squealing on the grey as it turns around to trying to hunt him down. But something else has happening, because he isn’t trying to hide himself from them. Shizuo its frozen, in the middle  Sniffing the air. The caffeteria windows cracks again, glass disappears in pieces and spreads all over the place. It stenches. “So it was you…”  he would recognize him anywhere, under any circumstances. Even with his eyes closed “this is where you been hiding, weren’t you…I-ZAA-YAAA-KUN…?” wrath ignited as that name roared out from his lips.

[memoirite]

⠀

A ruthlessly cold chill ran down Izaya’s spine. He should’ve known better than to question his own senses, especially that one sense alerting him that there’s a certain yellow-haired monster in your local area.

⠀

It dubbed him a monster, because the name was far more forbidding.

⠀

Sozoro was immediately at his side, fretting over the two kids now hiding under the table. He undeniably cares for them, the information broker has noted, from the various situations they went through. One would think they were his own grandchildren.

⠀

Of course, that train of thought was very much useless in the potent crisis he was in, but his mind latched onto it anyway. He wasn’t willing to acknowledge neither the shattered glass nor the swirl of something unwanted inside of him. Somethings. Plural. There was coffee spilt on the floor beside him, and he vaguely recognized the cup as his. Funny, he doesn’t remember letting go.

⠀

“What otherworldly forces have you angered this time, Izaya-dono?” He thinks he heard his bodyguard ask, with his usual snark, and perhaps it had a thing to do with how Izaya was tightly gripping his armrests until his knuckles turned white, but the old man exempted him from an answer to stand in front of him for protection instead, instructing the kids to stay under the table until he secured their escape.

⠀

It was only then that Izaya dared look up, and the sight of yellow hair was enough to take his mind on a spin. Even so, he mustered a smug smile, in deep contrast with the cowardice quaking inside of him. It was worse than he thought. With familiar and foreign emotions clashing together, it was getting rather challenging to keep them buried six feet underground.

⠀

“Shizou-chan,” the name weighed heavy on his tongue. It didn’t come as easily as it used to.

⠀

[heiiwajimas]

It was pure hunting instinct. When the patrol caught up with him , Shizuo left the vending machine in the middle of the road to make it swerve violently to the other side or it would crash. And then he turned around, eyes fixed on a building ; a small coffee shop a few blocks away, and a fierce smile  was drawn into his lips. Rage took its place inside his  chest, dense and heavy, hot and seething as he rushed on.  Nothing stopped him, not even the sound of another siren following him down the street. Not even the sound of a gunshot. A pinprick that grazed his left shoulder. The store manager, in desperation and consumed by fear had tried to stop him as soon as he saw him a few steps from his door. But not even him with his horrified screams, not even another shot to the ceiling, not even all the people who still can't manage to run crouched under or next to their tables manage to stop him. No I had been him. Or specifically, a metallic flash from the chair. What seems to have brought him out of his trance  and makes himself remain carefully out of reach.  “  What are you playing at, huh?...”the powder in his eyes has gone out guilt begins to take over “its this one of those sicks games of you Iz-a-ya-kun...? .”

[heiiwajimas]

@memoirite​

It’s been nearly two years.

Heiwajima Shizuo watched the smoke of his fifth cigarette in a row curling the air.  Two years and not a single trace of that smell. Almost two fucking years, but the grasp on his heart didn’t go away.   That twisted bastard wouldn’t give it away so easily, he just wouldn’t leave him alone.  Not even inside his thoughts.  

“Well well…whoo doo wee have heeere” A drunk voice came up from behind “didn’t you know this is our territory HUH?” Down the alley, Shevanne an old cocaine dealer that has been pestering Bunokura’s streets has just arrived with his five-member gang.  But Shizuo wouldn’t listen to them, not yet.  “Haaa?  look at this dumb deaf fuck  guuys.. ” Shevanne blasters, a laugh. He doesn’t know who is he messing around “maybe we should show him some manners…”

There was a sound….a sound of a bottle breaking over his head.

Shizuo could feel it, the cold beer mingling with the warmth of his own blood as it ran down his eyes. A bolt of rage finally waved into o his chest, gripping the promise he made just a few days ago to Tom, to everyone.

“ manners… ” he muttered as he flicked his fingers, breaking the cigarette away.  Sudenly, with no warning, there is a wicked wham from a pipeline followed instantaneously by a metallic screech, a chilling banshee yell, as it is ripped from its place.  “Yeah, that would be great.”

“Yoooou….” Shevanne steps back , his gang exchanges looks of mutual horror as they run away not waiting for his boss anymore 

“WHAT HE HELL ARE YOOOU?”

[memoirite]

In a nearby coffee shop, a fork clattered against a plate.

For a moment, Izaya was back in Ikebukuro. For a moment, a vending machine was about to be flung right at him. That yell.. even muffled by the cafe’s soundproof windows, even after all of this time, it was enough to jab right through his heart, stricken with something akin to paranoia. It couldn’t be. Surely his ears playing tricks on him. What would he be doing in Bunokura?

“Izaya-san? Is something wrong?” Asked Haruto, tearing him out of his thoughts. The kid eyed the fallen fork with concern, then held it up to him until he slowly took it. The girl beside him had no interest in the conversation whatsoever, nibbling on what’s left of her croissant.

“…Not at all. Did you two enjoy the meal?” He asked back, smiling at Haruto when the other nodded his head vigorously. The old man was up by the register, studying the menu thoroughly as if he’d be tested on it. Izaya leaned back in his seat with a silent sigh, observing as people went about their mundane lives on the other side of the window. Not one yellow-haired person was in sight. He took another sip of his coffee, letting the steaming liquid burn his tongue.

[heiiwajimas]

A siren goes off.  It's loud. Its red, flashing light illuminates the sidewalk,  every head on the streets turned to follow the yellow and blue streak, and every heart on the street skipped a beat as the ambulance weaved through the traffic.   A woman shouts out when the dry sound hits a window. The jazz music stops as a human body slips on the glass, leaving a crack behind.  Everyone starts to get up, chaos breaks loose. "Please evacuate  the building as soon as possible, and please do not panic." one of the waitresses begs to the crowd, but the stampede can't wait. Everyone flees in desperation. Some out of morbid curiosity to know what has happened to the body, others because their instinct told them to move far, far away.

Or the same thing will happen to them. "Sir we need to evacuate everyone ..." theres a small scared plea next to Izaya, another waitress has come for them. "Please, we can't just..." there was another screech as a lamppost looped through one of the windows from the south of the town. " S-sir "  the waitress cries out , her friends drag her away from the man in the wheelchair for safety.  A blond flash shows a few blocks away. Heiwajima Shizuo, stands out from an alley trailing a vending machine behind him. A police car comes screeching down the hill, a knight in his white charger, black tires squealing on the grey as it turns around to trying to hunt him down. But something else has happening, because he isn't trying to hide himself from them. Shizuo its frozen, in the middle  Sniffing the air. The caffeteria windows cracks again, glass disappears in pieces and spreads all over the place. It stenches. “So it was you...”  he would recognize him anywhere, under any circumstances. Even with his eyes closed “this is where you been hiding, weren't you...I-ZAA-YAAA-KUN...?” wrath ignited as that name roared out from his lips.

[potatofu-art]

Guilt

a look at what it would look like if their last fight went differently

[siroisvielle]

Izaya: if I turned into a worm, would you still love me?

Shizuo: *without a beat* you already are.

[potatofu-art]

this is a canon scene it’s true i was there

[animangaboys]

[amnemonie]

hi here’s Shizuo and Izaya flirting in the durarara stage play

[hanae-ichihara]

11/30. HEIWAJIMA SHIZUO - DURARARA!!: Requested by @kuroosden

[heiiwajimas]

@memoirite​

It’s been nearly two years.

Heiwajima Shizuo watched the smoke of his fifth cigarette in a row curling the air.  Two years and not a single trace of that smell. Almost two fucking years, but the grasp on his heart didn’t go away.   That twisted bastard wouldn’t give it away so easily, he just wouldn’t leave him alone.  Not even inside his thoughts.  

“Well well…whoo doo wee have heeere” A drunk voice came up from behind “didn’t you know this is our territory HUH?” Down the alley, Shevanne an old cocaine dealer that has been pestering Bunokura’s streets has just arrived with his five-member gang.  But Shizuo wouldn’t listen to them, not yet.  “Haaa?  look at this dumb deaf fuck  guuys.. ” Shevanne blasters, a laugh. He doesn’t know who is he messing around “maybe we should show him some manners…”

There was a sound….a sound of a bottle breaking over his head.

Shizuo could feel it, the cold beer mingling with the warmth of his own blood as it ran down his eyes. A bolt of rage finally waved into o his chest, gripping the promise he made just a few days ago to Tom, to everyone.

“ manners… ” he muttered as he flicked his fingers, breaking the cigarette away.  Sudenly, with no warning, there is a wicked wham from a pipeline followed instantaneously by a metallic screech, a chilling banshee yell, as it is ripped from its place.  “Yeah, that would be great.”

“Yoooou….” Shevanne steps back , his gang exchanges looks of mutual horror as they run away not waiting for his boss anymore 

“WHAT HE HELL ARE YOOOU?”