Summary: Reader witnesses something horrible and somehow Bucky ends up being her bodyguard
Warnings: Brief violence.
Word Count: 594
Stepping out to the chilly November evening, I locked up the little bookstore I worked at. It was fairly quiet outside, besides a couple of cars passing by. It was a few days into November, but it still hadn’t started snowing and I was longing for some white fluffiness. After making sure the door was locked, I put on my headphones and started walking to the bus stop, the street lamps lighting a yellowish path for me.
Earlier this week I had the fortune of opening a truly wonderful email in my inbox. Attached was this with a very sweet message, courtesy of @fondirritation. So let me just say thank you once again here!
The stunning artwork has been done by biencadeau (who does beautiful works - take a glimpse at her twitter). She has also generously allowed for this to be shared on tumblr.
But that was not to say that he loved any particular individual.
He was a human himself, yet he loved the beings called “humans”.
One could interpret it as a grandiose case of narcissism, but he never included himself in the “humans” he loved.
To put it in more exact words, he was deeply in love with “others”.
He had wasted an ideal opportunity to observe the humans he loved. He was trapped in passivity when the reward money was placed on Celty’s headless body.
It would have sounded harsh if one were to say that he did it to vent his anger.
Yet it was harsh but true: a desire to vent his anger was part of what prompted his actions.
It was like kicking bicycles out of his way because he felt like no one wanted to play with him……at least, that was the sort of pettiness in his heart when he start to carry out his plan - but the hardest part to deal with about Orihara Izaya was that he knew himself, his pettiness included, like the back of his hand.
Taking into account with full objectiveness every single detail he knew about the situation and about his own impulses - he would deliberately choose the worst possible route for the “others” he loved.
Orihara Izaya was not an “otherworldly” being like Celty nor an ultra-mighty warrior like Heiwajima Shizuo; he was but an ordinary human.
He was not completely rational and calm like a robot or a cold-blooded creature that didn’t feel a thing about killing.
He was a human through and through.
Harboring desires ordinary humans too would harbor, crossing lines ordinary humans too would cross on sudden impulses -
He just happened to possess these two traits at once.
He had not the charisma to lead an evil force; he was but a creature that couldn’t seem to have enough of what intrigued him.
Kishitani Shinra had made the following comment about Izaya when they were both in high school:
[I’ll tell you what you are. You’re kind of on the bad side, but you are not completely evil. Yet there’s not a single ounce of goodness in you, either. Hmm, how should I put it…if I were to try to sum you up in one sentence - it would be something like “You make me want to throw up.” - And that was a compliment, you know.]
Izaya had merely laughed when his almost-only friend said this. But in fact, he too thought it was right on the spot.
He made his targets throw up last night’s dinner along with their various “real selves” and observed them from where their puke could not reach him.
That was how he kept observing the real nature of humans.
Be their puke high virtues or lowly venom worthy of nothing but contempt, Izaya would cherish them and caress them with the same affection.