totallynotabrony's totallynotastory

by totallynotabrony

untitled Durarara crossover

Celty Sturluson: introvert, package courier, literal headless horseperson.

Nightmare: evil, looks like a motorcycle, actually an ancient magical alien.

Fortunately, they live in one of the wilder neighborhoods of Tokyo and nobody notices.

But what people don’t know can hurt them, and there’s trouble brewing. Celty and her trusty steed might be the only ones who can stop an impending disaster.

Editing by Brianbrony0

Author note: Durarara is an anime. In canon, Celty has a horse (that she can turn into a motorcycle or other things) that I replaced in this story with the banished Nightmare Moon. Unfortunately, while I quite like Durarara, it's a very visual story, and I just couldn't find a way to make the plot of this crossover interesting.

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Ch1

The black rider came to a stop at the curb and got off the motorcycle. The bike was as dark as the night, and had no lights, mirrors, or license plates. The rider was similarly clad, with the exception of a yellow helmet that had perky cat ears on top.

The door of a nearby building opened and a man came out. He was both shorter and thinner than the rider, who was already leaner than most.

The man took a long look, frowning. Even up close, at night it was hard to tell if the suit that encased the rider’s thin form was made of leather, or latex, or perhaps shadow itself. Any expression was hidden by the helmet.

“You’re the courier?” he said in Japanese, with a trace of a foreign accent.

The rider nodded.

He handed over a backpack that weighed perhaps five kilos and a slip of paper. “This needs to go to the address listed.”

The rider accepted the backpack and put it on, then held out a hand. The man put an envelope in it.

The rider unzipped the front of their suit a dozen centimeters, exposing pale skin and clearly identifying the rider as a woman. She made to stow the packet of money, but paused, considering it. She opened the envelope and flipped through the bills.

She slipped a phone out of her sleeve and tapped out a quick message, showing it to the man. You agreed on 100,000 yen.

“That’s half.”

Up front, she typed.

The man scowled, but took out some more money. “Don’t be late,” he said after she had taken it and zipped up again.

Such disrespect after attempting a swindle! hissed a voice in the back of the rider’s mind. This maggot deserves to be taught a lesson.

Instead, the rider nodded once and got back on the motorcycle.

One of these days you must get even. said the voice as the rider headed down the street.

He was a first time customer. the rider mentally pointed out. Now he knows that I stick by my agreements and will expect him to do the same.

Oh, and I suppose some day he’ll be another friend that you can’t allow close to you because you’re self-conscious about being a monster?

The rider lightly slapped the motorcycle’s tank. That was uncalled for!

You know it’s true.

The rider knew better than to reply, even though she wanted to. An argument right now, in the middle of a job, would only be a distraction.

She guided the bike onto the expressway and accelerated. Her trusty steed may have been a megalomaniac, but loved to race.

There wasn’t much traffic that late at night, but the rider casually slipped between cars, comfortable at a pace more than double the speed limit.

The bike hit an expansion joint in the road at 150 kilometers per hour and the rider suddenly heard a cry. She straightened up, glancing side to side. Where is that coming from?

Not you? Maybe that package.

The rider felt faint movement against her back and brought the bike to a screeching halt at the roadside. Opening the backpack, she discovered a baby inside.

Several seconds passed as she stared, frozen in shock.

I told you we should have killed him.

Quiet.

The rider shook her helmet side to side. How could this have happened? She didn’t usually care what she transported, but she wasn’t going to participate in a kidnapping.

But - what exactly what she supposed to do with a crying baby on the side of the road in the middle of the night?

A set of headlights swung into view from around the curve, slowing down and shifting to the shoulder. A green van pulled up behind the motorcycle. Four people got out.

“Do you have a problem?” asked the young man who had stepped from the front passenger seat. He tilted his head. “Aren’t you that transporter?”

The rider didn’t know them by name, but had seen the four of them around before. She shifted the infant to one arm and quickly typed on her phone, I think this child has been kidnapped. I don’t know who the parents are. I need to go back and find the man who gave the child to me.

“We can totally take care of a baby!” said the girl that had gotten out of the back seat.

“A steady diet of milk and manga!” added the boy next to her. “That’s what growing kids need!”

“Oh no, I’m not letting some puking baby in my van!” the driver argued.

The man who had spoken first quietly accepted the baby from the rider. “We’ll go to the police for you.”

The rider gave him a quick nod of thanks and jumped back on her bike. She shot across the road into the opposite lanes and zoomed back the direction from which she’d come.

The building where she’d met the mysterious client earlier was dark when she arrived, minutes later.

If he was smart, he wouldn’t still be here. said the voice.

I’m hoping he’s not. The rider took out the money, to give it back in refusal of the job.

She walked up to the door and turned the knob.

A fraction of a second later, an explosion ripped the building apart, the blast tossing the rider like a ragdoll across the street and upending the motorcycle on top of her.

Ow… She groped for her helmet, which had been blown clean off.

The bike obediently rolled off her and set its kickstand. Now will you kill him?

The rider found her helmet and put it on. Maybe.

Kyohei Kadota sat in the passenger seat of the van, thinking. He and his friends had encountered the black rider around Ikebukuro before, though this was the first time she had ever “spoken” with them. It was rumored that she didn’t talk. There was something distinctly mysterious about her, particularly the way her motorcycle accelerated without even a whisper of noise.

His thoughts then turned to her delivery, which she’d turned over to them. The crying had not stopped all the way to the nearest police station, despite the four of them trying to appease the baby. In the back of the van, Erika Karisawa and Walker Yumasaki had tried everything they could think of, but babies apparently were not into manga.

Fortunately, the baby was now the Ikebukuro Police’s problem. At the station, Kadota had told them that they’d found the kid in a dumpster. No need to implicate anyone, at least not until they knew the full situation.

Saburo Togusa sat behind the wheel next to Kadota, muttering quietly under his breath. He was usually the group’s stick in the mud, but occasionally they needed one of those. It helped balance out Erika and Walker, who were both raging otaku.

“Well, I guess that’s our good deed for the day,” Kadota said. He pulled off his black sock cap and scratched his head. “I’m still trying to figure out what that was all about, though.”

“It’s not like there’s some sort of secret underground toddler-snatching ring,” said Walker. He pulled a box of Pocky out of the pocket of his blue sweatshirt and began to nibble on the contents.

“Unless there is,” argued Erika, crossing her arms over her black tunic. The two of them quickly descended into theorizing on possible scenarios, which spiraled from improbable to laughable.

Kadota’s instincts were usually good, and he got the feeling that something larger was at play. The strangeness of a kidnapped baby being transported covertly around the city by an unknowing courier sounded far too convoluted for an isolated incident.

But he didn’t think it was his problem. Not yet, anyway.

The elevator dinged. Shinra Kishitani, got up, buttoning his lab coat, and stepped out of his office towards the front door. The lock clicked and a woman in a black suit and yellow helmet came in.

“Hello Celty! How was tonight?” Shinra asked.

Celty took off her helmet and handed it to him. Scratches and dust were all over it. Concerned, he looked up. Celty herself seemed fine. She looked perfectly normal, save for her conspicuous lack of head, which as her roommate he’d been expecting.

“What happened?” he asked, addressing the wisp of shadow above her unadorned neck.

She tapped out the details on her phone. The client wanted me to transport a baby. When I found out, I tried to go back and find him, but the building exploded.

“Who was it that connected you to him?” Shinra asked.

Izaya Orihara, the information broker. I’m going to talk to him next. Watch the news. Maybe there’ll be something about the police finding a missing child.

The still-open apartment door opened a little wider as the motorcycle rolled in by itself. Inside the apartment, the black bike swirled into shadows, reforming into a horselike creature, black as midnight, with a sharp horn on her head and wings at her side.

“Don’t track dirt in here, Nightmare,” said Shinra. “We’ve talked about this.”

“Who has just been caught in the debris of an exploded building?” Nightmare snapped in return.

They didn’t get along, but Shinra mostly took it in stride. It was simply Nightmare’s default attitude, and he’d seemed to accept that. Celty was still the mediator for the more heated arguments.

Shinra had learned to accept a lot of things. Celty, for example. They’d met some two decades previously, when he was four, and had been living together since then. That was shortly after she’d lost her head. Literally, of course.

Celty was apparently a dullahan, an Irish fairy that guided souls to the afterlife, by force if necessary. But most of her memories had gone with her head, and in looking for it, she’d ended up in Japan making money as a courier in the meantime. No one, herself included, was quite sure how she could see, hear, and think without a head.

Nightmare was ostensibly her loyal steed, but exactly how that had come about Celty couldn’t remember. Nightmare had indicated that she’d been banished from her home planet for her behavior. At any rate, her powers complimented Celty’s and they made an effective team, albeit with constant bickering.

The shower started and Celty realized Nightmare had beaten her there. She sighed inwardly and instead turned to her computer.

Celty had Izaya Orihara’s email address and sent a brief message describing what went wrong. Izaya was a snake, she was convinced, but he was also one of the most well-connected people in Ikebukuro, or even the whole Tokyo area.

That done, Celty turned on the TV. There was nothing about a recovered child yet, but breaking news was covering the destroyed building.

The water shut off and Celty heard hooves on the tile floor of the bathroom. She headed that way.

Nightmare had both the incorporeal abilities and magic to not require showers at all - so did Celty - but they both took it as a small comfort after a stressing day. They traded places in the small bathroom. Celty’s clothes wisped away into shadow with a thought.

“Something has happened,” said Nightmare.

Celty wondered for a moment if Shinra had forgotten to buy soap, but realized from Nightmare’s tone that she meant their earlier escapades.

What? Celty wrote on the steamy mirror.

“I need some time to be sure,” said Nightmare. “I may have sensed something that I have not felt in a long time.” She smiled, showing her fangs. “A worthy opponent.”

CH2

Kadota and his crew had seen the exploding building from their van. It had been worth a look, but emergency services hadn’t let them get too close. They’d retired for a late night snack.

The cheapest sushi joint in Ikebukuro was owned by Russians. One generally got what one paid for when it came to sushi. Still, it was a good meeting place.

“Who do we know in that neighborhood?” Kadota asked, over a platter of limp fish.

“I don’t know if the Yellow Scarves have moved into that block,” said Walker.

“Are you talking about the explosion earlier?” asked Simon, one of the sushi chefs. He was tall, black, Russian, and a couple other adjectives besides. He dropped off more food, an order they hadn’t placed.

“That’s it,” said Erika. “You don’t deliver your special wasabi to that neighborhood, do you?”

Simon waved his hand. “No, no. What else could have happened? Was Shizuo involved?”

Shizuo Heiwajima, widely regarded as one bad-ass dude, could have actually destroyed a building. Kadota considered it, but shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Yeah, he probably wouldn’t have had anything to do with a baby,” said Saburo.

“Baby?” said Simon. They told him the story.

“Very strange,” Simon agreed. “Why don’t you eat some sushi and stay out of this?”

The four glanced at each other. Erika grinned. “I think we’re already involved.”

The next morning, Celty roused herself. She stretched and got up, changing out of her pink pajamas. Shadows curled around her body, forming the black suit she was known for around Ikebukuro.

Nightmare still slept, legs and wings splayed. Shinra’s apartment was quite nice for the neighborhood, but sharing a room with Nightmare was often crowded. In return, Celty got to see her asleep, which was cuter than Nightmare would otherwise have allowed. For being a motorcycle most of the time, Nightmare was strangely concerned with how others saw her.

Celty sat down in front of her laptop. Izaya Orihara had replied to the email she’d sent asking for information. He wanted to meet, naming the top of a building in Ikebukuro. Checking the time, Celty realized she would have to hurry.

Nightmare was not an early riser. She much preferred the night, but with a grumble carried Celty downtown.

The local dreams I sampled last night were fascinating, Nightmare said as they sliced through traffic. My premonition was correct. Something is most certainly afoot.

Any idea what?

No, But it’s only a matter of time.

They arrived at the meeting place and Celty went to talk with Izaya. That involved finding her way to the roof, passing a sign that indicated Authorized Personnel Only. He was waiting for her there, wearing a fur-lined jacket too warm for the weather and a perpetual smirk.

“Congratulations,” he said. “You broke up a North Korean kidnapping plot.”

Oh! Celty typed. Why were they doing that?

“North Korea has a lot of Japanese citizens held hostage, or aren’t you from around here?” Izaya asked.

Celty was sure by the way he said it that he knew she wasn’t. Izaya was like that.

“They government might give you a medal or something, if they heard about it,” he said.

Celty said nothing. They both knew that neither of them would be saying anything to the police. Not that they were involved with the kidnapping plot, at least Celty knew she wasn’t, but police asked questions and at some point someone would probably ask for Celty’s ID.

“I should be going now,” said Izaya. He hadn’t asked for money in exchange for the information, so he likely believed Celty owed him a favor now. He walked for the stairs, somehow still maintaining his smirk.

Seconds after he had disappeared, a pair of hands gripped the edge of the roof and a tall man hauled himself up, having apparently climbed to the fifth floor without stairs. If it had been anyone besides Shizuo Heiwajima, Celty might have been surprised.

He was blonde and wore a pair of blue sunglasses, clashing with his attire that made him appear as a bartender of a fancy pub. He glanced around and said, “I wasn’t expecting to see you here, Celty. I heard Izaya was in Ikebukuro.”

You just missed him, Celty typed.

Shizuo scowled. “It hasn’t been a good day. This on top of the kidnappings.”

More than one?

“You haven’t heard? A couple of babies have been taken over the last few days.” Shizuo cracked his knuckles. “There’s no possible reason anyone could have for that. When I find them, I’m going to stop them.”

Shizuo was strong enough to toss vending machines and lift cars. Completely literally. Celty had seen him do it. She didn’t pity whoever he might catch.

Izaya was perhaps the only person fast enough to stay out of his reach, which was why he seemed to enjoy taunting Shizuo. It was probably no accident that he’d departed moments before Shizuo had arrived. The two of them had a long-running and intense rivalry.

This may be a larger kidnapping ring than anyone realizes, said Celty. She filled him in on the previous night. Izaya said it was a North Korean plot.

“Do you believe that?”

The man I met could have been North Korean. But I get the feeling that isn’t the whole story.

Shizuo seemed to have mastered the scowl as well as Izaya had the smirk. After a moment, he said, “I’ll keep my eyes open.”

Celty nodded and Shizuo walked her back down to street level.

Astride Nightmare, she headed out. Nightmare said, Such a stallion would be a powerful ally.

Nightmare often used horse terms. She was one, after all. But Celty caught the undertone. Shizuo isn’t interested in relationships. He’s told me so.

Everyone lies.

You’ve seen how strong Shizuo is. He has nothing to gain by lying. He’s just a friend.

Do you have friends?

The fact that Celty didn’t reply immediately told them both what she thought. She finally replied, Shinra lets us both share his apartment.

Because he wants you for your body.

Celty flinched. There had been no undertone that time. Shinra and his family were interested in what made Celty tick, and she’d agreed to undergo exploratory surgery to that effect in exchange for a place to stay.

To no one’s surprise, being a monster was rather lonely.

Slightly related, a bug the size of a large dog splattered across Nightmare’s front tire.

They came to a screeching halt. Celty jumped off and took a few steps back in the direction of the thing they had hit. Black-clad appendages and green guts were spread everywhere across the street.

She looked around, looking for help, looking to see if anyone had noticed, looking for anything that might explain what had happened. It was midmorning on a quiet, narrow street. Everyone who might commute through here was already at work or school. Celty, Nightmare, and the large, dead bug were the only ones around.

I’ve never seen anything like this, Celty thought.

Is that a changeling? Nightmare said, a note of amazement in her voice.

How would I know?

It’s a creature from my world. Nightmare studied what was left of it. Yes, I’m sure. I wonder what it’s doing here?

It came from your world? Celty looked around again, pulling a hand to the chin of her helmet. How could it have ended up here?

I don’t know. But I doubt it’s alone. They never travel alone.

Celty threw her leg over Nightmare’s seat and grabbed the handlebars. We should go.

I think that would be wise.

CH3

Shinra was packing his medical bag when Celty and Nightmare arrived back at the apartment. “Huh? What’s up?” he said, seeing Celty's manner.

“We ran over a creature from my world,” said Nightmare. “Its exoskeleton burst open like a grape.”

Shinra’s eyes widened. “Exoskeleton? What kind of creature was this?”

“They are called changelings,” Nightmare explained. “They are vaguely equine in shape, but insectoid in physiology. They have the power to change their appearance, and do so in order to replace family members and feed on love in their place.”

“Feed on love?” Shinra shook his head. “Just what sort of wacky creatures do you have on your zany alien planet?”

“You are the aliens,” Nightmare shot back.

“Celty, what do you think?” Shinra asked.

Celty shrugged. She typed, I’ll take Nightmare’s word for it. But doesn’t ‘changeling’ make you think of something else?

Shinra thought about it. “Come to think of it, I believe I’ve heard that word before. Can’t remember where.” He looked down at his bag. “I have to be going, however. Another day, another thug with a bullet to extract.”

When he was gone, Celty sat down at her computer and did a search for changelings. A lot of tall tales came up, but they all had some points in common.

“What a coincidence,” muttered Nightmare, reading along, her chin resting on Celty’s shoulder.

Celty had to agree. According to the internet, in human folklore, a changeling was a fairy child that replaced a stolen human baby and was unknowingly raised by the parents. Not only did it resemble themes of the changelings Nightmare knew of, but it was extra suspicious in light of the local kidnappings.

Celty wasn’t sure what to do with this information, but the thought of children being kidnapped still revolted her.

“It’s underhanded, I’ll grant you, but why the specific disgust?” Nightmare asked, reading her thoughts.

At least I’m only an abomination. You’re evil, of course you don’t understand.

Nightmare put a hoof to her chest. “You wound me.”

Celty got up and stretched. She shuffled her feet a little and took a long look out the window.

Nightmare waited, but not patiently. Finally, she asked, “What now?”

I guess…let’s go hunt some fairies.

“Are you not also a fairy?”

Are you going to believe the internet?

Nightmare lowered her head. “I concede that point.”

Erika and Walker were hard at work spending their pocket money, bouncing all around Otaku-R-We in search of the latest yaoi. At least that’s what Kadota thought they were doing. He was probably right, too.

He stepped out of the store for a moment for some fresh air and immediately regretted it. There was more than one smoker outside. They were all either finishing their smoke before going into the store or lighting up after coming out.

Either that, or they were Shizuo Heiwajima. Kadota was pretty sure he didn’t read manga. The two of them nodded, but said nothing. Nothing needed to be said.

A group of girls passed by them, fangirling about this and that. “Did you hear the new Kasuka Heiwajima poster is out?” one of them squealed.

“He’s so dreamy!” added another.

Shizuo stiffened. The girls went by into the store.

“I think your movie star brother can protect himself from the likes of them,” said Kadota.

Shizuo’s fingers twitched on his cigarette, but he calmly put it back in his mouth. “You have to let the baby grow up sometime,” he muttered.

“Speaking of babies, did you hear about these kidnappings?” said Kadota.

Shizuo nodded.

The two of them lapsed back into silence. On the highway a block over, a black bike went by. The only sound of its passing was the woosh of displaced air.

Celty wasn’t bad with technology, but finding someone whose name she didn’t now in a place the size of a Tokyo neighborhood was no walk in the park. For the moment, she decided to revisit the scene of the exploded building.

Surely the police would have picked clean any evidence by now, Nightmare commented.

Celty shrugged. She didn’t have many other ideas.

The scene was still taped off, but that didn’t bother either of them. No one was around, so apparently the police had found whatever it was they were looking for.

Celty dismounted, surveying the scene but without a clear idea what she was looking for. Watching her step, she waded into the rubble. It was impossible to tell what the building had been used for before it exploded.

She felt a twinge of something and paused, slowly looking back and forth. Can you sense that?

Nightmare came over. A few seconds passed before she replied, “Yes. It’s magic.”

Tell me about it.

Nightmare judged it for a moment, but then shook her head. “It is nothing that I recognize.”

Not like a changeling? What else could have magic?

“No, not like a changeling, although…” Nightmare considered it. “There may be an aspect of shapeshifting. Perhaps there is some creature native to this planet that possess those abilities.”

Well, I doubt it’s the North Koreans. Celty paused. Though I am still curious why that man was involved.

She rolled Nightmare back down off the pile of debris. Izaya Orihara was waiting for her.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he said, smirking. “I came by myself to get a better feel for Mr. Lee, our mutual acquaintance.”

That was his name? Celty typed. What do you know about him?

Izaya held out his palm. “Fifty thousand yen.”

That was half what she’d been paid to take the job in the first place. Not that Celty needed money, but when lives were on the line, Izaya was as mercenary as ever. She paid him.

“North Koreans have kidnapped dozens of Japanese over the years,” he said. “This is the first time I’ve heard of them going after babies, but I’m sure they have a reason that makes sense-” he scoffed “-to them.”

Where can I find this gang?

Izaya considered it. “What are you planning? You know Ikebukuro already has its own homegrown gangs.”

The Yellow Scarves. Blue Square. Yakuza. And others. Truly, local gang battles rarely resulted in more than a few injuries, but none of the hundreds of members them would take lightly to North Koreans of all people infringing on their territory.

I don’t know, Celty admitted.