Bill Cipher & Stan Pines, Bill Cipher & Ford Pines, Bill Cipher/Ford Pines (Implied)
Characters:
Bill Cipher, Stan Pines, Ford Pines
Additional Tags:
Blind Bill Cipher, Post-Theraprism Bill Cipher, Bill Cipher is Trying, Bill Cipher Has Issues, Bill Cipher Needs a Hug, Bill Cipher Needs a Freaking Drink, Drinking to Cope, Drinking & Talking, Excessive Drinking, nightmares (implied), Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism (alluded to), Comfort, Hangover, relationship status: softening up, Literal Sleeping Together, Childhood Medical Trauma
drink the poison down
Summary:
Bill's eye doesn’t work. His mouth works just fine. So he puts it to work, taking care of the Mystery Shack's mysterious supply of rotgut, to drown out the bad feelings.
AKA, Bill tries to drink his troubles away, and gets some surprisingly good company in the form of the Stan twins.
(Blind Bill AU, Stan and Bill are on decent terms, Ford is getting there)
If Matt has just had a fresh traumatic experience, is it in character for him to drink to cope with it? If it is jn character for him, then how far do you think he would let himself go? Like on a scale of bottle of beer to bottle of wine to seven or eight shots of Ever-clear how hard is he going?
I want to write fanfiction but I don’t want it to be overly gratuitous or out of character
Need me some prompts for a really happy-go-lucky character who hides their traumas behind a witty remark and a cocky smile
Happy go-lucky is a trope I’ve modelled an OC on so:
Nothing appears to phase the character at first: even when it really should.
When the Worst Stuff is revealed about their past, everyone is sat in horrified shock except your character, who passes the whole thing off as a funny story. The character shrugs and says ‘and I’m still alive so... I’ll drink to that.’
The ‘it is what it is’ mentality. Someone is mean to them? They’ve heard worse. They’re injured? ‘Not as bad as the last time.’ They’ve just witnessed something horrific? ‘Eh, at least no-one died in my arms this time.’
They’ve learnt to craft their backstory into something more humorous to reduce the impact it has on other people.
“Hahah, well actually I’ve dealt with this before. It’s a funny story really, I was nearly executed for...”
Maybe one day they can’t hold it in anymore. That One Thing is enough to push them over the edge. Maybe they drink, maybe they do something else self destructive and it all comes out. There’s no cocky smile, there’s no joke; your character is being 100% real and It’s jarring for the caretakers... but also a relief that the trauma is finally being addressed.
After the defeat of Mandroid, the Malto Family decide to host a party and Wheeljack and a few Decepticons bring along Cybertronian drinks. It might not have been such a good idea.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category: Gen
Fandoms: Transformers: Earthspark (Cartoon); Transformers - All Media Types
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
"Hey, cool it!" the bartender warned. He was a black bat, one of the Lamb's many cultists. What was his name again, Nobre? Kallamar could never be bothered to learn names. He glowered as his hands balled into angry fists; he wasn't about to be commanded by some half-witted mortal.
"Stay your hands, brother," Shamura urged calmly, gently grasping both his wrists. He had the unshakeable urge to wrench them away and strangle Shamura himself. His hands shook with pent-up fury as he desperately willed himself to calm down.
"Release. Me. Now," he growled through gritted teeth. They eyed him for a moment, undoubtedly assessing his volatility, but obliged with a curt nod.
"It has been an age since I've seen such fury in you. Well before Heket joined us, I'd wager."
"I have several reasons to be angry, sibling," Kallamar spoke, voice quivering. He swallowed the lump that had begun to build in his throat. The bitterness and pain threatened to well up and dampen his anger. He wasn't going to allow it. He wouldn't show weakness, not now, and especially not to Shamura.
It's finally up! Been chipping away at this since the update? Can you tell what my favorite new feature is?
Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy! Feedback appreciated as always! I'll probably start delving into my AUs unless I get distracted by another idea. So be looking forward to those!
A/N: Happy belated mf birthday Kazuha I'm so sorry. I have sinned ;A; This ain't beta read either bro-
Description: Kazuha is celebrating alone with some drinks, thinking you forgot his birthday. You technically didn't though, because he never told you when it was in the first place.
Tags: fluff, drinking to cope, first kiss and snuggles uwu, gn!reader
w/c ~ 1841
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Things were quite peaceful in Inazuma now, so it was quite odd when Thoma ran up to you in a frenzy, claiming that you were needed for an ‘emergency’ of some sort. There was hardly anything worthy of being classified as an emergency nowadays, so you found it weird when Thoma dragged you out to one of the restaurants in Inazuma City. What was it, a national food emergency? Thoma said it would make more sense if you saw the issue for yourself though, so you followed him to see what was so important.
Upon entering the restaurant, it quickly became clear why you were needed.
It was Kazuha, sitting alone in the far corner, surrounded by plates of dango skewers and empty sake bottles. He was leaned up against the wall, head already hanging to the side with pink cheeks and an absent gaze. The man was plastered, and you held back a spurt of laughter only because the situation seemed serious.
“Oh Archons… I see what you mean. But… Why do you need me specifically?” You asked.
“He won’t listen to anyone but you. He said it himself. Though it was hard to make out anything he was saying at all, your name came through the clearest.” Thoma informed you with a sigh.
Your cheeks warmed, and you were both flattered and embarrassed.
“O-oh! R-really?”
“See for yourself. C’mon.” He laughed.
Thoma escorted you to the corner where Kazuha sat and you could look upon the state he was in. The poor man barely noticed that you had approached him, his vision slowly locking onto Thoma once he realized there were other bodies present in his empty booth.
“Thoma… I said I wasn’t gonna go -hic- go with you.” Kazuha slurred.
“Oh I know. But you’ll go with them, right?” Thoma asked, pointing at you.
“W-wha?” He mumbled dumbly, squinting at your form.
“Wow Kazuha, are you really so drunk that you can’t even recognize me?” You chuckled.
His eyes snapped open upon hearing your voice before tears started to well up in the corners of his eyes. His bottom lip quivered, and then re reached out towards you with grabby hands, whining your name as he switched up completely.
“Where have you beeeen! I-I’ve been -hic- thinking about you for so loooooong!”
Thoma chuckled when you glanced over at him in surprise. “He’s been like this for a while. I wasn’t kidding when I said I needed you.”
“No kidding indeed. Well, uh, I’ll take it from here then. Thank you, Thoma.” You nodded, blushing a bit.
“I’ll leave him in your capable hands. Have fun you two~” Thoma teased.
You waved for him to shush before you turned your attention back to Kazuha who still had his arms extended out towards you. He really was a mess. With a sigh, you rounded the table and sat down next to him, his arms latching around you almost instantaneously. Quite whines came from him as he nestled into you, and you began to wonder how much he had truly drunk.
“Kazuha… How many bottles have you had?” You asked him gently.
“Nnnh… Only two…” He mumbled.
“Kazuha… I can see the bottles on the table.”
He was quiet for a moment, then squeezed you a little. “... Four and a half…”
“Oh Kazuha… Why?” You asked.
“S’ my birthday. I wanted to c-celebrate… But you forgot so I did it alone.”
“Kazuha…” You sighed, shaking your head at him. “You never told me when your birthday was. How was I supposed to come if I didn’t know, silly?”
“I…” He paused, then realized how dumb he sounded. “Fuck.”
“Oh wow, a swear? From you? Tsk, I think it’s time you went to bed.” You huffed.
“But-”
“Ah! No buts. Didn’t you say you’d only listen to me?” You hummed.
“... Yeah… I d-did.” He admitted with defeat.
You let slip a chuckle, amused by how well he truly listened to you despite being so outwardly defiant to Thoma. After a bit more encouragement you were able to get him up, but you had to support him against your shoulder or else he’d fall. It was a bit difficult to pay with him practically clinging to your shoulder, but you were able to get the job done and get him out into some fresh air eventually.
“Kazuha, can you stand at all?” You asked.
He responded by slumping into you a little more when the cool night air hit his face. You huffed a little, amused by his current state.
“C’mon. You need to rest now. You can stay at my place in the spare room.” You told him, carefully guiding him back to your home.
He tried his best to walk alongside you, but he was quite intoxicated so most of the walk was spent with him dragging his feet while pressed up against you. Slight mumblings of how he was grateful for you or how he was so tired slipped out from him here and there, earning a small smile from you. He was an adorable fool; one that needed rest.
After a bit more walking you had finally reached your home, practically carrying Kazuha through your doors. The poor guy was like a ragdoll, and after a bit of convincing, you managed to get him to support himself long enough to remove anything hard or bulky off of his person before he flopped down onto your spare futon. He groaned in protest, but was visibly relieved to be resting on something soft now.
“You should be good for the night. I’ll go get you some water so you don’t wake up feeling horrible, so I’ll be right back. Go ahead and make yourself comfortable.” You said sweetly.
He nodded and watched you leave, staring at the empty door frame where you once were for a moment before he shimmied under the blanket, waiting for your return. He waited like an anxious puppy, and when you returned, you almost snorted at the sight of him, peeking out from the blanket. When you crouched down to give him the water, he took it slowly, and you smiled.
“You had way too much. Finish that cup and sleep well.” You sighed.
You were about to stand up again, but Kazuha stopped you. His free hand held tightly to your arm, and his eyes pleaded to you before he could.
“Don’t go please. I’ve already spent so much time alone…” He asked you quietly.
Your heart had been tugged in just the right way. A faint little ‘awe’ slipped past your lips before you smiled down at him. There was no possible way for you to say no to him.
“Alright. I’ll stay.” You huffed. “What do you need me to do?”
Kazuha paused for a moment, then began to rapidly drink the water you gave him. When he finished, he pushed the cup aside and scooted over on the futon, lifting the blanket in silent demand that you join him. He really was like a puppy now.
“You’re quite drunk, Kazuha. Are you sure you won’t be concerned if you woke up next to me in the morning?” You asked him with a weak chuckle.
He shook his head no and flapped the blanket again to encourage you to join him, so with a quiet sigh you did so. He was stuck to you like glue once again, wrapping his arms around you to hug you close. He’s never been so cuddly before.
“Just let me have this once. I love you, you know. So please, allow me this once, then reject me when I forget.” He mumbled, nose pressed into your shoulder.
Your cheeks flared up with heat after hearing his spontaneous confession, and your heartbeat betrayed you. His touch was so gentle and full of hope, gripping you firmly yet gently, as if you were going to leave him now. He radiated honestly, and you turned to face him and see such a nervous expression on him for the first time.
“Kazuha… If you remember, I won’t reject you.” You said softly.
“You… won’t?”
You shook your head. “I could never reject my best friend that I’ve grown to love. That would be insane of me.”
You cupped his cheek and gently kissed his forehead, a bright pink blush flaring up on top of his already hot cheeks. He stared at you in wonder, eyes full of innocent care.
“If you remember when you wake up, I promise.” You repeated.
“I won’t forget. Not ever.” He replied softly, tightening his grip on you once more.
It seemed that he had fought to get those words out. Moments after he buried himself into you his grip loosened again, meaning that he had finally passed out. His breathing slowed, content and curled up against your side. You couldn’t help but smile, pulling the blanket up as you made yourself a little more comfortable.
“I hope you don’t forget, Kazuha…”
===
You had slept heavily. Perhaps it was because Kazuha was at your side, his warmth still present at your side when you gently stirred. The incoming rays of sun had woken you, and your stirring had roused Kazuha as well. With quiet grunts he slowly came back to the waking world, his half lidded eyes finally coming to rest on your form. He did not wince, and instead broke out with a small smile.
“I remember.”
The smile you now wore was infectious. He couldn’t stop staring at your lips, inching closer and closer. You chuckled like a lovesick fool and pulled on him, happy to finally plant a kiss on his lips instead. You melted into each other, lost in the softness of each other's lips, illuminated by the morning light.
Even when you broke apart, he still held you gently, fearing that you may disappear in the wind if he dared to let you go.
“Well. I’m relieved you didn’t forget, or regret anything.” You chuckled.
“I could never regret anything with you involved. I really do love you, and I’m so glad you do as well.” He hummed.
“You were never one to lie.”
“Never. Now let me thank you for finding me last night. Who knows what kind of nonsense I could’ve gotten into.” he sighed, caressing your cheek.
“Thank Thoma for that one. He found you babbling at the back of a restaurant and you wouldn’t listen to anyone but me.” You giggled. “He brought me to you.”
Kazuha’s cheeks went red again with a nervous chuckle. “A-ah, so I seem to be missing some details here and there…”
“Hah! You did have four and a half bottles worth of sake, so it’s not surprising~”
“Four and a- what was I thinking…” He huffed in disbelief.
“You weren’t, since you forgot to tell me it was even your birthday, dummy.” You chastised, butting your head up into his. “I won’t forget though. I love you too, my sweet windswept poet.”
Shizuo has never known such a period of peace in his life.
He tries not to think about it too much, because he's afraid of it all unraveling. His days have always been filled with chaos, usually the flea-induced kind, but Izaya has been strangely silent lately. Weeks go by in the same manner, and during that time, Shizuo finds himself getting closer and closer to Vorona.
He works, he enjoys good food, he spends his free time with Vorona. Every day that passes is joyful and easy, like Shizuo has always dreamed of, but it doesn't feel real. Maybe it's because Shizuo knows the full moon is drawing closer, or maybe it's because he doesn't trust Izaya not to come out and wreck everything, like the malicious little fucker tends to do. Shizuo tries to bask in the peace he's found himself in, but he's still waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“You worry too much, man,” Tom says as they walk home one night. Vorona left to catch her train, and Shizuo has been voicing his concerns to Tom, who wanted to know why Shizuo seems so on edge.
“Yeah, you keep saying that,” Shizuo huffs. “I can't help it. Good things don't often happen to me.”
“So you're overdue,” Tom says, waving his hand in the air as if that settles the matter. “Enjoy it, yeah? Bad things are going to happen, sure. But if you spend all your time waiting for it, you won't enjoy the good things.”
Shizuo considers this as they walk down the sidewalk. How much of his life has he wasted, worrying over what Izaya was doing? If there's one thing he knows for sure, it's that Izaya will always do flea shit, and nothing is going to change it. In fact, that may be Izaya's latest little scheme, making Shizuo waste energy worrying when Vorona is there, waiting to make things better.
“I'll keep it in mind,” Shizuo says.
“Good. Don't let that informant get to you so much. If you ignored him more, I bet he'd leave you alone. He just likes the way you react to him and his antics.”
“You think so?” Shizuo asks. It's not the first time someone has told him so. In fact, everyone says the same thing about Izaya, that he just needs the attention.
“Oh, for sure. You've been busy with Vorona lately, and Izaya is leaving you alone, right? Sure, he'll come out soon and mess with you, but he knows you've got better things to do, and he doesn't like that.” Tom shrugs. “He's a kid pulling pigtails. It's almost like... Heh. Well, it doesn't matter. You've got Vorona on your arm now.”
“Almost like what?” Shizuo frowns, looking over at Tom, who scratches the back of his head and laughs again.
“Almost like he likes you. In whatever weird, fucked up way a person like him can like someone. Maybe he's jealous of Vorona.”
Shizuo stops walking, and Tom looks at him nervously.
“I mean— Well, you know what I mean! C'mon, Shizuo, he's obsessed with you. It's not healthy. And he wants you to be as obsessed with him, and...uh. Sometimes you...kind of are...” Tom waves his hands around again. “I'm not saying it's your fault! You're trying to protect yourself, and Izaya never leaves you alone, so of course you're going to worry about his schemes, but—!”
“You think he...likes me? Izaya?” Shizuo asks, trying to keep his voice level.
“You...really don't see it?” Tom asks, and he puts his hands down, genuine confusion in his eyes. “I'm sorry. I really am. I'm not trying to upset you, I just...thought it was obvious? But then again, you aren't great at knowing when people have a thing for you.”
Shizuo very much values Tom and his input. Tom has never given him unnecessary advice, and he's not an idiot like Shinra. If Tom thinks something like this is obvious, maybe it is. Shizuo scoffs and starts walking again.
“The flea doesn't have any feelings about anything. He just wants me to suffer all the time. I don't think that's what it means to like someone.”
“In his weird way, maybe it is,” Tom says, following after him. “The guy's crazy, right? Who knows how his brain works.”
Shizuo grimaces, and Tom forces another nervous laugh.
“Let's stop talking about him. Whatever it is he feels, it's none of your concern. Just try to take it easy, is all I'm saying, okay? Izaya isn't your responsibility in any shape or form.”
They part ways soon after, and Shizuo tries not to think too much about what Tom said, but now he finds he can't think of anything else. How stupid. He's never gotten bad advice from Tom before, but he's questioning his senpai now. Izaya is a cold, unfeeling bastard. He doesn't have human things like feelings. He's just a flea, sucking the life from everything and everyone, and that's all he'll ever be.
Shizuo is so lost in thought that he doesn't notice Shinra until they're passing each other. Shinra is walking quickly, looking frazzled, so Shizuo is the one to call out first.
“Yo.”
“Huh? Oh! Shizuo-kun! You're out late!” Shinra says, stopping short. He adjusts his glasses and gives a smile.
“Yeah, we worked late tonight. You just missed Tom-san. Are you working, too?” He eyes Shinra's briefcase with distrust. He's been on the other end of Shinra's treatments too often to be comfortable around it.
“Yes, I had an emergency call in Shinjuku. Gotta love it. I wanted to have dinner with Celty tonight, but instead I—ah. Well, anyway, I have one more appointment, and then I can finally go home!”
At the mere mention of Shinjuku, Shizuo frowns, and Shinra immediately seems to understand why. Of course he tries to change the subject, but it's too late now, and they both know it.
“So you saw the flea.”
“Er... Yes, I did, but I imposed on him. He's just been sitting at home, and I haven't heard from him, so I did a wellness check,” Shinra says. “He really is just sitting around! No need to be angry!” Shinra tacks on hurriedly.
“I'm not angry,” Shizuo replies. “Isn't it weird though, how quiet he's being? It usually means he's planning something in that flea-brain of his.”
“I don't think so this time,” Shinra says.
“Why?”
Shinra pauses, arching an eyebrow. “Why do you care?”
“I fucking don't! Answer my question!” Shizuo barks, and Shinra jumps comically.
“It's just—! Izaya-kun isn't doing too well, okay? That's really all I can say! Doctor-patient confidentiality and all.”
“Bullshit, you're not a real doctor.”
“Hey, that's uncalled for.” Shinra huffs and seems to debate for a moment before speaking again. “He's just...never been good at taking care of himself. It seems like something is really bothering him, but he never talks to me about any of it. I can't really blame him. I wasn't exactly supportive when he got stabbed and hospitalized.”
“When he what?”
“Anyway. He's pretty busy these days, so I wouldn't worry about any schemes. Izaya-kun seems to be trying to work himself to death.”
Shizuo doesn't like the sound of that, because nothing good ever comes from Izaya's “work”. And what the fuck does it mean that the flea can't care for himself? He always looks fine, as far as parasites go. He might even be considered pretty, if he weren't such a bastard.
“Hey,” Shizuo finds himself saying. “Let me ask you something.”
“Um...okay! But if it's Izaya-kun related, please don't pummel me when I answer!”
“It is, and shut the fuck up. Do you think Izaya is...obsessed with me?”
Shinra blinks an abnormal amount. “Yes...? How is that even a question?”
“I mean—! You know. Is it an unhealthy...romantic amount?” Shizuo glowers at Shinra, almost daring him to laugh. Shinra doesn't, but he does look smug, and that's reason enough to punch him in Shizuo's book.
“Izaya-kun doesn't talk to me about much of anything,” Shinra says. “But if I had to guess what's wrong with him right now, it's that he's wallowing. You've got a girlfriend. He never thought it would happen.”
“So do you think he...?”
“I don't know for sure,” Shinra continues. “Izaya-kun is secretive, but he's kind of an open book when it comes to you. He doesn't want to hear about you, never wants to talk about you, and he gets mad when he hears your name. Yet, he's been helping you. He's giving you potions, free of charge. He lets you stay with him every month because he knows it makes you feel better. I guess that's really all I can say about it.”
“But he did this to me!” Shizuo snaps. “He made me this—thing! How can you call that anything but hate?!”
“To be honest with you, Shizuo-kun, I don't know much about how Izaya-kun operates. No one does. He's really very fragile, you know? He'd rather be an island in himself than risk drowning.” Immediately, Shizuo is reminded of the young Izaya's words in his dream. “I can't say if it's love or hate. All I can say for sure is that he's got a complex about you, and he's definitely upset about you not having time for him anymore.”
“But—“
“I'm sorry, I really have to go! I'm late already. Let's talk soon though, okay? Celty can make dinner! She's been dying to cook more, and it's really cute to watch her try! Ah, okay, I can't talk about Celty or I'll never leave. Bye!” Shinra takes off running, and Shizuo sighs, watching him go.
He has to see Izaya tomorrow night for the full moon, and with all this garbage running through his head, he's not sure how it's going to go.
It was easier before all this magic shit entered Shizuo's life.
***
That night, Shizuo dreams of Izaya.
It's not an unusual occurrence anymore, not since this dream-link stuff started happening, but it doesn't feel like one of those realistic dreams. It just feels like a product of Shizuo's subconscious, and he doesn't like it one bit.
It starts with him in Izaya's apartment, just sitting next to the desk while Izaya types away at the computer. Neither of them are speaking, and Izaya isn't even acknowledging Shizuo's presence, but Shizuo finds he can't look away from Izaya.
“Something on your mind, beast?” Izaya asks, and his voice sounds like a distant echo. It doesn't feel right, but while it's happening, Shizuo doesn't realize it's just a dream.
“Can't you just read my mind?” Shizuo asks sourly.
“I could, yes. And yet, I'm asking you.” Izaya rests his head in his hand and leans forward, eyeing Shizuo playfully. “Cat got your tongue?”
“Shut up.” Shizuo glares down at his lap, feeling his face heating up. “People kept mentioning you to me today. It pissed me off.”
“Mm.”
“They say you like me.”
“Is that all?” Izaya laughs. “Don't worry your empty little head about things like that. I assure you, I loathe you.”
“Yeah, I know. But...”
“But you're attracted to me, right?”
Shizuo looks up sharply to find the entire room has morphed into his bedroom. Izaya is over him, straddling his waist, mouth curved into a sharp little smile.
“You're only thinking about it so much because you've seen me so often, and we haven't been fighting. So now you have to deal with it.” Izaya leans closer, reaching out to touch Shizuo's face with his cold hands.
“I'm not attracted to you. You're the fucking worst thing that's ever happened to me. I want you to fuck off and die,” Shizuo spits vehemently, but he doesn't pull away from Izaya's fingers as they trace over his skin.
“I'm the only one that can keep up with you, the only person you're not afraid to hurt. I'm not scared of you, and you hate me for it, but you love it too, don't you?” Izaya's hand moves to the back of Shizuo's head, tangling in his hair, pulling hard enough to hurt. “Much as you hate me, you're afraid to lose me.”
“Fuck you!” Shizuo growls as his hair is yanked harder, and Izaya gives him a nasty little leer.
“This isn't even real, Shizu-chan. You dreamed me up just so you could argue with me. Isn't that funny?” Izaya presses his lips against Shizuo's ear, breathes into it. Shizuo's entire body erupts in flames and goosebumps. “Deal with your stupid little epiphanies on your own time, ne? I'm too busy to babysit you.”
Shizuo wakes in his bed, covered with sweat. He can still feel Izaya's breath in his ear.
“Goddammit...” Shizuo hisses, covering his face with his hands. He can feel that he's hard, and he knows exactly who it's for. He frowns up at his ceiling, wondering if that was just a dream, but he can feel through his connection with Izaya that the flea is wide-awake, though his side feels...off. Immediately, Shizuo wonders why, and he curiously tries to delve deeper, but he feels the equivalent of a swat from Izaya, and he takes that a sign to knock it off.
***
The next day, Shizuo is tired and sluggish. He couldn't manage to fall back to sleep the night before. His thoughts kept drifting back to Izaya, what he was doing, why his side of their link felt so strange.
“Shizuo-senpai seems off today,” Vorona comments.
“Sorry. I didn't sleep well,” Shizuo replies.
“Bad dreams?”
“Yeah. Weird dreams.”
“This seems to be happening a lot lately,” Tom interjects. “What are you dreaming about?”
“Just... Weird shit, okay? It doesn't matter. It just wakes me up and then I can't get back to sleep.” Shizuo huffs and slouches, his hands in his pockets as he trails after his coworkers.
“Sounds like you're stressed out,” Tom says. “Weekend's coming up. Maybe you should take it easy and relax.”
“Yeah,” Shizuo mumbles. It'll be hard to do that when the full moon is only a couple of hours away. He never enjoys seeing Izaya, but it'll be even weirder when he unwillingly jerked off to thoughts of Izaya's smug face and slender frame the night before. He only hopes he can keep those thoughts private, because if Izaya finds out, Shizuo will never again know peace. He blames Tom and Shinra for putting these thoughts in his head in the first place.
“Perhaps we can meet,” Vorona says. “It will be clear weather this weekend. Good atmosphere for date.”
“Oh...” Shizuo blinks, surprised by her boldness, though he supposes he shouldn't be. Vorona has never been the shy type. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”
“Agreed,” Vorona says, and Tom shoots Shizuo a thumbs-up. Shizuo tries to remind himself he has things to look forward to, for the first time in a long time, and no one can ruin that for him, not even Izaya.
***
That evening, sitting with Izaya on the couch, it's easy to see what Shinra meant. Izaya looks terrible, too pale, too thin, too weak. Shizuo doesn't think he's ever attributed weakness to Izaya before, but now, the little weasel looks like he's a few steps from breaking apart. He reeks of red wine and stale sweat. His eyes are dull and glazed over.
Shizuo doesn't like it.
They share biting words, as they normally do. Izaya refers to himself as a tool, and it irks Shizuo even more. If Izaya is a tool being used by the Yakuza, then he's also being used by Shizuo. In fact, Shizuo remembers those few words exchanged with Izaya's scary secretary. All of them are getting something out of Izaya, aren't they? And Izaya, for whatever reason, would rather get stinking drunk than deal with any of it.
By the time that damn vampire is making his way out, Shizuo feels on edge, more than usual. He thinks maybe it's because he's hungry, so he winds up eating the entire pizza he ordered. He tries to get Izaya to eat a slice or two, but Izaya refuses, curls further into himself and whines low in his throat, and Shizuo gives up, feeling from Izaya that he feels too sick to eat. Shizuo can tell Izaya drank an absurd amount the night before, on an empty stomach, no less. That at least explains the fuzziness from Izaya's end of their link. More than that, it means Izaya really didn't have anything to do with Shizuo's dream.
Shizuo doesn't know how he feels about that.
He's trying to figure himself out when Izaya sits up suddenly, looking at him with those narrowed, catlike eyes.
“Shizu-chan, have you taken your potion?”
“Huh? Of course I have,” Shizuo replies, confused. He's taken it religiously ever since Izaya instructed him to. He wasn't going to risk not taking it, not when he could seriously hurt someone.
“Have you taken it exactly as you should, the way I instructed?” Izaya asks, and he looks so angry that it takes Shizuo a moment to figure out what he means.
“Well— I drank it all a couple of days ago. I spent all day with Vorona, and I didn't want—“ Shizuo sees Izaya baring his teeth, and he pauses. He doesn't see what the big deal is. He needs to take it all before the full moon, right? So why does it matter how he spaces it out? He didn't want to obsess over taking it when he was supposed to be giving Vorona his full attention. He's so tired of thinking about what he is, and what he can do. He only wanted some normalcy. “What? What did I do wrong?” he snaps at Izaya, full of anger suddenly. “You said to take it all before the full moon, and I did!”
“I told you to drink it every day, bit by bit, and to finish it before the full moon,” Izaya hisses, and there's a wildness to him that Shizuo has never seen before. “The exact way you've done every month until now, because you're so pathetic in the presence of that woman that you can't follow basic fucking instructions!”
Shizuo realizes then that Izaya looks scared. It's an expression Izaya has never worn, but Shizuo can recognize what it is, because he's seen it on the face of so many people in his presence. Izaya isn't just scared, he's scared of Shizuo.
“Izaya, I— I feel wrong,” Shizuo says, realizing now that the immense hunger he's felt all day wasn't just because his stomach wasn't full. He wasn't just looking at Izaya with desire, but hunger, the actual desire to bite and consume. Izaya smells fucking delicious right now, like everything Shizuo's ever wanted, and he doesn't think he can stop himself from sinking his teeth into that soft skin.
Izaya stands from the couch, eyes darting around in search of escape, and the last thing Shizuo remembers thinking is that he fucked up, and he fucked up bad.
***
When Shizuo comes to, his ears are ringing. His entire body hurts, way worse than it has from any previous transformations. It takes Shizuo a moment to realize where he is, who he is, but when he does, his head snaps up from the plush rug it's buried in. The room is filled with the ray from the morning sun, and Izaya is standing across from him, hand holding his side, blood gushing from between his fingers.
“Izaya!” Shizuo sits up, terror filling him as he recalls what happened. He lost control of himself. Izaya was scared of him. Izaya was sick, too sick to even lift his head, and Shizuo wanted to fucking eat him.
“Get...the fuck...out...” Izaya hisses, and he falls to his knees. Shizuo panics, forces himself to crawl forward even though it's agony to move at all. He tries to touch Izaya's shoulder, but he's suddenly tossed back with immense force, his body crashing so hard into the wall that it leaves a dent. Shizuo cries out in pain, lands in a boneless heap. He looks helplessly up at Izaya, who looks like he's a moment away from death.
“Izaya... I'm sorry...” Shizuo gasps, trying again to move. It hurts. It feels like he broke every bone in his body. “Izaya, please, let me help...”
“Haven't you...done enough...?” Izaya asks. His eyes are filled with hatred, and under them are purple bags that stand out against his sickly pallor. He sinks onto the ground, curling into himself. “Out...get out...”
“I won't go,” Shizuo says stubbornly. “Izaya... Tell me I didn't bite you.”
“You didn't. Not for...lack of trying...” Izaya winces, coughs up a small amount of blood. Shizuo curses and crawls forward again, but he keeps a distance between them, not wanting to be thrown back once more. “You're so stupid... All for a fucking woman, Christ.”
“I didn't think it mattered how I took the potion as long as I took it!” Shizuo argues. He looks around wildly for his pants. He needs to call Shinra. “I just drank it all two days ago. I didn't know. I didn't know missing one day would matter!”
“I instructed you...to take it...every day.” Izaya closes his eyes, grunts softly in pain. The only way to control the bloodlust is to take the potion every day. It's like medicine. Even skipping one dose puts everyone in danger of you. Izaya sends, apparently too weak to keep speaking out loud.
“I... Fuck, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I didn't—“
Save it. I'm sick of that excuse. You never mean to do anything, do you?
Shizuo's stomach feels like it's in his feet. He hates Izaya, hates him, but he didn't mean to do this. He doesn't want to hurt anyone, especially when he's that thing. He can feel from Izaya's end of their link what exactly happened. Shizuo changed, lost his mind, lunged at Izaya with intent to kill. Izaya managed to dodge, but Shizuo's claws made impact, and they dug into Izaya's side before Shizuo was thrown back at last. It took every ounce of Izaya's strength just to keep Shizuo against the wall.
“Why didn't you just kill me?” Shizuo asks miserably. “Even weakened like you were, you could've snapped my neck or something. I know you could've.”
“Would've been...better than you deserve...” Izaya's voice is barely audible. He's been bleeding for hours. There's a pool under him, and he's clearly losing consciousness.
“I'm gonna fix this,” Shizuo says, forcing himself to move again. “I'll get help. I'll— FUCK, where are my pants?!”
Izaya doesn't answer. Upon further investigation, Shizuo realizes Izaya passed out.
“Shitty flea, hey! Wake up!” Shizuo shouts. He finally locates his pants, which are a few feet away from him, torn to shreds since he didn't have the sense of mind to take them off before he transformed. He crawls across the room, digging through the remains of fabric until he locates his phone, and then he calls Shinra.
“Shinra, I need you to hurry to Shinjuku. Izaya's hurt...bad— I fucked up.”
***
Shinra arrives in a record ten minutes, Celty in tow. Shinra beelines straight to Izaya's side, lifts the blood-covered black shirt, and gets to work. Celty comes over to Shizuo, who has managed to dress himself, and is sitting as close to Izaya as Izaya's magic will allow, which is a few feet away.
“What happened?” Celty's PDA is in Shizuo's face, and it takes him a moment to answer.
“I didn't take my potion the way I was supposed to.” He hangs his head in shame. “I hurt him when I—changed.”
“But he should've been able to restrain you!”
“He did, but he couldn't do anything else. He was sick, and...”
“Not sick,” Shinra interjects. “Hungover, and incredibly exhausted. He hasn't been taking care of himself. It's pretty typical of him, actually.”
“It is?” Celty's screen asks. Shinra somehow knows what it says, even across the room.
“Izaya-kun has strange punishments for himself. He barely eats, doesn't sleep, gets himself in all kinds of danger on a regular basis. It's like he wants someone to kill him.” Shinra sighs as he observes the wound. “This is going to need stitches. He's not healing like he normally does.”
“But he'll be okay, right?” Shizuo asks.
“Yes, he'll be fine. It's almost impossible for him to die on his own.”
Something about that statement, coupled with Shinra's earlier words gives Shizuo goosebumps as an unpleasant chill crosses over his body. Izaya can't die on his own, but he puts himself in situations where he can be killed. Would Izaya even die? If he were torn limb from limb, would he just heal somehow?
Has Izaya tested how far this could go?
Shinra looks over at Shizuo, and his expression softens. “This isn't just your fault. You should've taken the potion normally, but Izaya is the one who allowed himself to be hurt. If he would bother taking care of himself, you wouldn't have been able to even get close to him.”
“I could've killed him,” Shizuo says. “I could've turned him into a monster, like me.”
“Wouldn't that have served him right?” Shinra asks, and Shizuo lifts his head, shocked Shinra would say something like that about his supposed friend. “He's probably the one who had you turned, after all.”
“No one deserves this,” Shizuo spits, and Shinra shrugs as he threads a needle.
“Maybe not, but something like this was bound to happen. One of you is going to kill the other someday if you don't learn to get along.” Shinra pierces Izaya's skin with the needle, and Izaya winces, makes a soft little whine. “I know,” Shinra soothes, petting Izaya's hair for a moment. “You did this to yourself, you know? Now you have to let me fix it.”
Shizuo watches the scene, hating it. He can smell Izaya's blood in the air, and it smells sweet, makes his mouth water. He looks down at his hand, and he can see the lingering blood and tissue under his nails. His first instinct is to gag and wash his hands, and he goes to do just that, but as he stands over the sink, water running, he finds he can't bring himself to do it. In fact, with tears in his eyes, and bile in his throat, he brings his fingers to his mouth, and he licks them clean.
***
Shizuo spends the next week indoors.
He smokes so much that he feels sick. He ignores every phone call he gets, some from his brother, most from Tom and Vorona. Shinra calls once, leaves a voicemail that Izaya is fine. After that, he mercifully leaves Shizuo alone. Izaya's secretary stops by to shove a box of potions at him. She doesn't say a word, but she seems to be eyeing Shizuo with more contempt than usual.
Shizuo finds that he wants to speak to Izaya, wants to apologize again, to grovel if he must. Even with all the shitty things Izaya has done to him over the years, Shizuo is filled with regret and guilt that any of this happened. He still thinks of Izaya in that dream, thinks of Izaya's blood in his mouth. Fuck, Izaya tasted so good. Shizuo left immediately after he finished cleaning his hands of blood, ignoring Celty when she tried to stop him to ask what was wrong. He couldn't be there anymore, couldn't be in the same room as Izaya when he wanted to do terrible things to him.
Shizuo's never felt so unhinged before, even at his angriest. He still hates Izaya, hates him, but he finds himself fantasizing about Izaya. He thinks of Izaya's taste in his mouth, that scent in his nose. Izaya is gorgeous, fuck, how has Shizuo never realized he thought so? Everything he hates about Izaya, all of it, has been warped into this yearning feeling, the desire to claim, to own.
It's enough to drive him mad.
“My, my. Aren't you simply pitiful?”
Shizuo looks up at the intruder in his apartment, lips curling into a snarl.
“Get the fuck out,” he hisses, but of course, the vampire is unthreatened.
“I came to see how you were faring.” The vampire hops down from the windowsill, daring to get a little closer.
“I said to get out— Wait. What the fuck was your name again?”
“Tsukumoya Shinichi. I don't expect you to remember it, though.” Tsukumoya leans against the wall, the embodiment of leisure, and he grins at Shizuo. “You really messed up, didn't you?”
Shizuo growls, resisting the urge to throw something. He doesn't want to wreck his own things, plus, he keeps getting noise complaints. He really doesn't want to have to move.
“I know that, okay? I didn't meant to hurt him—“
“But you've spent years of your life trying to hurt him, haven't you? Why should it be any different for you now that you've managed to do so?”
Shizuo really doesn't like the creature in his space. Tsukumoya has that same smarminess to him that Izaya does, that all-knowing air of smugness that seeps under Shizuo's skin and makes him want to lash out. If Shizuo were never bitten, maybe he wouldn't be as wary, because now all he can see is a monster shaped like a human in his space. Tsukumoya's body seems to move differently, like it moves a step behind the vampire himself. Shizuo can't quite put it into words, but it's like a blur in an old photograph, an imperfection.
Shizuo wonders if he looks the same to other people.
“Why the fuck are you here?” he barks at the vampire. He isn't in the mood to deal with anyone, especially not some fucking holier-than-thou bloodsucker.
“I came to give you some free information,” Tsukumoya says. “I'm a lover of humanity, but I can make an exception for a former human, like yourself.”
“You sound like Izaya.”
“Do I? I suppose we share some qualities.”
Shizuo growls. “That was an insult. Don't look so pleased.”
Tsukumoya laughs. “I don't mind being compared to Orihara Izaya. He's the most fun I've ever been around. I enjoy his company.”
“You're crazy. So is he, so I guess you're a match made in Hell or something.” Shizuo lights a cigarette, his eyes trained on Tsukumoya. “What's your deal anyway? Why are you always hanging around him?”
“I just answered that, but I don't mind reiterating. He's fun. He's unpredictable, powerful, beautiful.” Tsukumoya's brow arches as something in Shizuo's expression changes. “You agree, don't you?”
“I don't—“
“Look,” Tsukumoya interrupts, “I don't have the time to listen to your denial all night. I don't care enough to work through these stages with you. I only came to offer friendly advice, since you don't know anything of the world you've found yourself part of, and you don't seem to be trying to educate yourself.”
Shizuo blows a cloud of smoke towards the vampire, but Tsukumoya just keeps talking.
“I have existed for thousands of your years. I can't deny I've killed humans in the past. I regret it, but it was my nature back then. There weren't many alternatives. Over the years, I learned to take just what I needed, but accidents still happen. Izaya's magic helps me to live as normally among the humans as I ever will, and I am grateful to him for that. So should you be.”
“I didn't—“
“Still, as long as I've been around Izaya, I have never once fed from him. Even when the opportunity arose, I resisted, much as I wanted to taste him. Can you think of why that may be?”
“How the fuck should I know?” Shizuo asks, annoyed he keeps getting talked over.
“Izaya is the most powerful being in this world, and the next,” Tsukumoya says. “He is as valuable as he is terrifying. His blood would taste entirely different to me than it did to you.”
Shizuo pales. How the fuck does Tsukumoya know he tasted Izaya's blood? He wasn't even there. No one saw.
“To put it simply, Izaya will always be the embodiment of what you most want in the world. Even a taste would be enough to get you hooked, drive you mad with desire. You're lucky you tasted old blood. If it had been fresh, you never would've been free of him.”
“How do you even know that I...” Shizuo trails off, not even wanting to admit it out loud.
Tsukumoya sighs, and he snaps his fingers. “Focus. Do not become bewitched by Izaya. That is the most important advice I can give you.”
“Yeah, no worries there. I don't want anything to do with him.” Shizuo doesn't know when exactly this became a lie.
“For your sake, I hope so.” Tsukumoya turns away, as if to leave.
“Wait.” Shizuo stands, flicks his cigarette out the open window. “So you're scared of him, right? You're scared of Izaya.”
Tsukumoya stills, and then he turns back to face Shizuo, a gleam in his red eyes.
“Remember what I said, Heiwajima Shizuo. Next time, I will charge for such valuable information.”
He disappears as soon as he arrived, and Shizuo scoffs before lighting another cigarette.
***
The next day, Shizuo finally reenters society. He's sick of being alone with his thoughts, and he feels bad about all the unanswered phone calls and texts. He endures a lecture from Tom about missing work, and he feels guilt gnawing at his insides when Vorona assures him it's okay, a soft note of hurt in her voice.
He trails after them glumly, kicking himself for making them worry again. The day trails along, and as they walk past the park, he sees Celty there, leaning against the fountain. She waves at him, and he stops walking, which makes Tom and Vorona turn around.
“Why don't we break for lunch?” Tom asks.
“Yeah, pick somewhere,” Shizuo says. “I'll be there in a minute.”
“Don't take too long,” Tom says, and Shizuo gives him a thumbs-up.
Shizuo walks over to Celty, his hands in his pockets. He grins at her sheepishly, still feeling guilty, but she playfully punches his shoulder, and he relaxes. Celty always understands.
“How are you?” she asks.
“Better. Sorry for disappearing again. I had to think about some stuff,” he replies. She pauses before typing a response.
“I know you feel terrible about what happened. I wish I could help, but I don't know what to say.” Her shoulders droop, and she types something else before hurriedly deleting it, and then fidgeting a bit. Shizuo watches with amusement, waiting for her to gather herself, but when the screen lifts again, he finds himself instantly irritated.
“I think it's for the best that you'll be coming to our place during the full moon from now on. We care about you, and we'll make it as comfortable as possible. I promise not to let Shinra do any experiments on you.”
“What do you mean I'll be going to your place? When was that decided?” Shizuo asks, his voice low.
“I thought Shinra told you?” Celty types, and then she tilts her helmet to the side. “Shinra thought it was for the best, and Izaya agreed.”
“So he just wants to wash his hands of me, huh? Like it's so fucking easy.” Shizuo growls loudly, making a family of five turn to look at him warily as they walk past. “I'll kill him! He did this to me! He should have to handle it himself!”
“Shizuo, please hold on! You don't like each other, right? You shouldn't have to see him so much, it's only stressing you out. Don't you want him out of your life?”
“NO!” Shizuo yells, and it's like everything around them goes entirely silent. Shizuo feels hot all over, filled with rage, but also sudden understanding, something so concrete he can't believe he didn't see it before.
“...No?”
“No. I don't want him out of my life.” He flops onto the edge of the fountain, stretching his legs out. And then he laughs, finds he can't help it. “Fuck. I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm sorry for yelling at you.”
Celty fidgets again. Shooter whinnies softly, and she pats his side before she sits next to Shizuo and types another message.
“Are you and Izaya getting along? I'm trying to understand, but I can't seem to wrap my mind around it. I thought you would be happy without him.”
“I thought so too, but I'm only more pissed. I can't explain it, Celty. I just...don't want him getting away with this so easily. He ruined my life repeatedly, and now he's acting like I don't exist. I can't let things be finished like this.”
“Like what?”
“When I'm the one who fucked up. I want it to be on my terms, not his.”
Celty's shoulders shake, as if she's laughing. “You're so stubborn. If I were you, I'd count my blessings he's giving you an out. I'll never be away from him, since he and Shinra are friends.”
“I'll never be away from him either,” Shizuo says, and he wonders when the thought became so comforting.
That night, as he's walking with Vorona to the station, he blinks when her fingers thread through his. He looks down at her, but she's looking ahead, her face expressionless.
“I am glad you have returned,” she says, and he nods, not knowing what to really say. “I care about Shizuo-senpai.”
“I care about you too,” Shizuo says, and she turns to face him at last. He realizes what she's about to do a moment before she does it, and when her lips touch his, he doesn't know how he feels about it, but he knows it doesn't feel right.
@rororo06 requested: Can you do an avengers cast x reader where a loved one of hers dies and they go over and find her drinking and grieving (not sobbing more like in denial)
Description: Your brother dies and the cast finds you drinking.
Characters: Reader, Scarlett Johansson, Chris Evans, Robert Downey Jr.
Warnings: Drinking, death of a relative
Word count: ~900
Sitting in your trailer has never been your favorite way to pass the time. You love your costars, and you want to be around them all the time. But it didn't seem appropriate to get shitfaced in front of them. Especially because of why you’re drinking. You weren’t necessarily ashamed drinking in front of people, you’ve never really done it before, but this is personal. Too personal.
So you're stuck in the trailer, staring at a blank wall where all the pictures of you and your brother had hung proudly. You ripped them off moments prior in a sudden burst of rage because it's not fair. It's not fair that he's not with you. It's not fair that he's gone, and you're not. It's not fair that you weren't with him when it happened.
Shattered glass lays at your feet, the burning of alcohol lingers for moments in your throat, and your head is beginning to swim. The cold weight of your phone on your leg serves as a very unpleasant reminder of why you’re alone in the first place. It’s how you found out, it’s why you’re numb, and why you went out to buy more alcohol than you could safely consume.
You don't know when or why you opened Twitter; you don't care. It doesn't matter. Nothing fucking matters. But it does. The whole world knows that your baby brother is dead because his idiot friend got high and drunk off his ass, and took him for a joyride. And now he's gone. You take another drink from the bottle of white wine you had. It was a gift for your twenty-first that had been a couple days ago, and it's absolutely perfect for you right now. ______________________________
Robert doesn't hang out on social media very often. He prefers face-to-face conversation, but he knows something is off when Twitter is going mad, and the little amount of notifications he usually got skyrocketed.
Breaking News: Y/B/N Y/L/N Killed in Car Accident
Robert's heart sinks. He just got off set with Chris and Scarlett, it’s almost nine in the evening, and the worst news he’s seen this month.
"Oh no," He says, frowning deeply.
"What's up?" Chris asked, grin turning to a look of concern.
"Y/B/N is dead." He says, looking Chris in the eyes.
"Y/B/N as in Y/B/N Y/L/N?" Scarlett asked, shocked. Robert nods solemnly.
"We need to check on Y/N. She can't be doing well," Scarlett says, turning to walk to the group of trailers.
The small group hurries to your trailer, concern only growing when seeing the door slightly open. It's completely silent, the lights are off, and the sharp smell of alcohol is wafting through the air. Robert's heart as he walks through the trailer.
Everything is as it usually is; the small living area is clean with a couple of jackets and pairs of shoes scattered by the couch. His heart drops further when they get to the little office area. You're sitting on the office chair, cheap bottle of bourbon open and in hand, staring at a wall surrounded by shattered glass.
"He's dead." Your voice is empty. He barely hears it himself, but takes it as an acknowledgment of the three of them. You take a swig of alcohol.
Chris moves first, taking the bottle from your hands and stepping back. You turn the chair, reaching to take the bottle back.
"Let's talk about this, Y/N."
"Let's not," you slur, extending your arm, and gesturing for him to give the bottle back.
"Y/N, honey. This isn't the way to deal with this. You just turned 21, drinking this much is not good for you."
"That didn't stop you." You snap, sitting back in the chair with a huff when you give up on the bottle. Robert pushes down his initial hurt. Your only remaining family member is dead, you're hurt, you don't mean it.
Scarlett left the room, returning a minute later with a cold bottle of water. She goes to you, and places a hand on your shoulder. "Here, honey, drink this. You'll feel better."
You shake your head, then double over. Chris reacts quickly, grabbing the garbage can by the desk. You rip it from his hands, vomiting into it. Scarlett holds your hair back, and Robert walks over, and begins to rub your back.
"Let it all out, Y.N. You'll be fine."
Chris's face falls. He looks down at you with tremendous sadness in his eyes. Robert feels the same way he does. No one should have to go through this, but life is life. And life can be a total bitch sometimes.
The four of them stay like that for some time. Robert keeps running your back after you put the garbage can down. Scarlett coaxes you through the bottle of water. Chris grabbed a cloth for your face.
"C'mon, kid. Let's get you to bed." Robert said finally. It's late, you're drunk, and you need to sleep.”
Thankfully, you don’t put up much of a fight. Chris and Robert lead you to your bed. You lay down, burrow under the covers, and pull the blanket over your head.
“Chris, go find some ibuprofen. She’s gonna have one hell of a hangover,” Robert orders, not unkindly. He thinks back to his youth, and the way he coped with things when he was younger. He can only hope to God that you don’t go down that path.
Chris comes back with another bottle of water and a small pill bottle. He sets them on the nightstand.
“I’ll stay with her,” Scarlett says, sitting on the bed.
“Okay. Let us know how she is in the morning.” Robert sighs, running a hand over his face.
“I will.”
