#durarara fic
Brrr! Christmas Special
Christmas hurt/comfort fluff, ‘cause I have no chill.Disclaimer:People in Japan celebrate Christmas much more differently than we westerners usually do, so the general vibe of this ‘chapter’ can also be a little unexpected for some.Word count: 3791Warnings: Strong language, use of cigarettes and alcohol.OCs includedOCs x variousThe cigarette hissed in the ashtray, dim flickers under the piece of wrapped paper. A thin line of smoke left behind, hovering up to the ceiling. He placed his other hand on the buzzing phone. Brought it in the nearness of his ear and heaved a deep breath. It soon turned into an angry growl, as the voice on the other side was way too loud for him to undergo. High-pitched, overly enthusiastic and hyperactive all-round.
A full load of unnecessarily used energy in his random babbling.
“So guess what I’ve bumped into Tanaka-san and he was all alone and it got me surprised I asked him where you were at what you’ve been up to lately and he told me you’re hanging out with some cute girl and I got so excited, like-” He took a gulp of air. “Like wow there really is someone for everyone. I’m so happy for you, Shizuo-kun, I really am! Is she pretty? She surely is. Now if you want any advice you know I’m here for you, Celty and I’ve been through a lot by now and our love is stronger than ever. You know what? We should double date, we should definitely double date! So is it settled? Friday on X-mas Eve? We’ll have X-mas cake and give presents to each other and everything! Exciting, isn’t it?”
Shizuo scratched his back. All bafflement and faltering disapproval.
“You know, she isn’t really my-“
He was cut off by Shinra’s noisy laughter.
“Friday it is! See ya, Shizuo-kun! I’m so, so looking forward to meeting her!” He hung up. Leaving the man staring blankly at the phone’s white screen.
Fucking weirdo.
Link to Chapter 2.
Word count: 2730
Warnings: Language.
Chapter 3
It was unlike a regular engine, since that which he had just encountered was always to stand out from the congested traffic of Tōkyō. He did not although know whether it was its deep shade of black or the abnormal smoke coming from it. Or simply the fact that, if listened carefully, some could swear it was a neigh of a horse they had heard behind the so familiar industrial noise. This specific motorcycle was surely nothing like any other piece of metal. Nothing but a living urban legend that made these surroundings a subject of idle talk.
Link to Chapter 1.
For a better read, I highly recommend you check out the playlist I prepared for this chapter. Start with After The Storm if possible.
Word count: 2674
Warnings:Language, use of cigarettes and alcohol, violence.
Chapter 2
He breathed in deeply as the cigarette invaded his lungs and nicotine ran through his bloodstream. Smoke from his exhale hovered in the air, keeping him into a serene stance. One hand in his pockets. The other one tapped ashes from his cigarette on the floor. His body leaning against the wall, he took a moment to gaze at the metropolitan view.
Link to Prologue B.
Warnings: Language, troubling topics such as depression and suicide.
Chapter 1
A single table at the back of the room was, admittedly, occupied. And there he was. The man scrutinised her from top to bottom. His arms lied upon the upper surface of the couch. A furred coat was hanging on a rack behind.
You can now find the story on my ao3 profile.Here’s also a link to Prologue A.Warnings:bad language, sexual content, violence, use of alcohol.Prologue B
San: Hellooo (o´ω`o)ノ
San: have you heard what happened???
San: south Ikebukuro
San: in Shinjuku, I mean!!
Kyou: A club fight.
Kyou: Pretty nasty…
Hirose: I was nearby at the time and heard some kind of sketchy noise. Didn’t care about it tho.
Setton: Things like that happen all the time. What’s the fuss about it?
San: you see, they DEVASTATED the place. (┳Д┳)
San: shards of glass everywhere
San: dj’s equipment has been found outside, smashed into pieces
San: a curved street light was thrown onto the boulevard
Kyou: Scared the pedestrians to death.
Hirose: Damned punks…
Hirose:(;⌣̀_⌣́)
San: Those ~punks~ you mentioned
San: It’s hilarious
San: Really, really hilarious
Kyou: Hysterically funny.
San:(>ω^)
San:And it is like that, ‘cause
San:Those “punks” were, in fact, just one.
Kalinka︱A Durarara!! F.F.
Ok, so I did some spontaneous writing and came up with what turned out to be a Drr!! premise. I also find my English kind of rusty (this being the first time in a while I write in another language than my own) so I’m terribly sorry if there are some mistakes in there. I am trying, however, to improve my writing and expend some extra effort to ensure that the story’s quality is as high as possible. That said, have a good read and a much more enjoyable day! ♡OCs includedOCs x variousPrologue A
At the first glance, she seemed to be a regular young woman. Because she engaged herself in mundane routines such as work, household and nights out. She had friends. Encountered a history of lovers. She was deemed to be fairly social, but a mere human whatsoever. A human blending in with the colourless crowd walking around the streets of Tōkyō. A spectre going back and forth to the same doomed places. Not even after the woman had decided to move into a small apartment in Ikebukuro was she something to be reckoned with. Yet there was something about Mukōgawa Noriko that was to distinguish her from the ordinary.
She was an outrageous liar, a pretender. For the one who had started to commute from Toshima to Bunkyō, the professor whose heels slammed now over the wet avenue, did not know how it was to feel wholeheartedly. Regardless of how loud she laughed, she did not find anything truly funny. Cringed at horror movies just because the other ones did. Cried only out of empathy. If truth is to be told, empathy was the one emotional ability she could undergo, as Noriko was aware of all the other people’s feelings besides her own.