Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Haikyuu! no tags, past character death 520 words, necromancer!Oikawa
It’s almost second nature by now for Tooru to sit by the pond he uses to store Iwaizumi’s body and draw the sigil for life on his forehead. The sigil flares, flickering grey and blue, before seeping into Iwaizumi’s skin.
Tooru waits.
Iwaizumi’s eyes blink open.
“You woke me up again,” grunts Iwaizumi, joints popping here, there, everywhere, and shakily pulls himself out of the pond, landing heavily beside Tooru. He’s absolutely wet and chilly water drips onto Tooru’s shoulder, but that’s alright; he leans into his lover’s side, closing his eyes, relieved that Iwaizumi is still here and hasn’t crossed over to the Otherside yet. Iwaizumi nudges him. “What’s wrong this time?”
“Small matters, really,” he mumbles. “I just missed you.”
“I see.” Iwaizumi doesn’t press any further. He lifts a hand, running his fingers through Tooru’s fringe, mussing the waves of neatly styled brown hair, and grins at Tooru’s noises of irritation. It’s like when Iwaizumi was still alive again: him, always pulling his friend from whatever clouds he’s gotten his head stuck into, and Tooru gently drawing squiggles onto Iwaizumi’s skin as they studied tomes and tomes of necromancy and the mysteries following Death.
Except Death itself had turned on them and took Iwaizumi under his wing far earlier than any of them had expected.
Tooru sighs, stilling Iwaizumi’s fingers; he tilts his face up and presses a small kiss onto Iwaizumi’s wrist, softly, tiredly, entirely unwilling to let go in so many ways more than this. The other boy’s skin is as cold as it has ever been since the last five years. It makes Tooru’s heart turn colder as well. “I’ve been assigned an apprentice now, Iwa-chan. He’s still too wet behind the ears— naïve beyond naïve, really— but, he’ll be good.” Tooru’s lips twist down. “Maybe better than me, even.”
Iwaizumi glances at Oikawa’s frosty expression, and pinches his nose. “Be nice to him.” He lets go and drops his hand, resting it on Oikawa’s instead. Squeezes it. “You’re one hell of a necromancer yourself, the kid will have miles and miles in front of him before he can catch up to you.”
“I suppose so,” Tooru huffs, disbelieving, but he relents all the same. “You’ll meet him soon, I guess. I need to use you for his initiation test, so if it’s alright with you…?”
“I don’t mind,” Iwaizumi scrunches his nose, adding, “but I might be asleep again by then. You’ll have to kick me up once more.”
“Lazy, lazy Iwa-chan~,” singsongs Tooru as he leans to blow a raspberry on Iwaizumi’s cheek. “Going to sleep so quickly when there’s so much to do!” Then, in a mellower tone, mirroring the shadows that flit past his face: “And so much to live for still.”
Their current realities can never be changed no matter how deeply they wish, so all Iwaizumi says in turn is a hope that might be true when the right moment comes. He says, “At least I’m still waiting for you to cross with me to the Otherside.”
Tooru smiles, a little bittersweet. “Beggars cannot be choosers, after all.”
FILL: TEAM IWAIZUMI HAJIME/OIKAWA TOORU, G
no tags, past character death
520 words, necromancer!Oikawa
It’s almost second nature by now for Tooru to sit by the pond he uses to store Iwaizumi’s body and draw the sigil for life on his forehead. The sigil flares, flickering grey and blue, before seeping into Iwaizumi’s skin.
Tooru waits.
Iwaizumi’s eyes blink open.
“You woke me up again,” grunts Iwaizumi, joints popping here, there, everywhere, and shakily pulls himself out of the pond, landing heavily beside Tooru. He’s absolutely wet and chilly water drips onto Tooru’s shoulder, but that’s alright; he leans into his lover’s side, closing his eyes, relieved that Iwaizumi is still here and hasn’t crossed over to the Otherside yet. Iwaizumi nudges him. “What’s wrong this time?”
“Small matters, really,” he mumbles. “I just missed you.”
“I see.” Iwaizumi doesn’t press any further. He lifts a hand, running his fingers through Tooru’s fringe, mussing the waves of neatly styled brown hair, and grins at Tooru’s noises of irritation. It’s like when Iwaizumi was still alive again: him, always pulling his friend from whatever clouds he’s gotten his head stuck into, and Tooru gently drawing squiggles onto Iwaizumi’s skin as they studied tomes and tomes of necromancy and the mysteries following Death.
Except Death itself had turned on them and took Iwaizumi under his wing far earlier than any of them had expected.
Tooru sighs, stilling Iwaizumi’s fingers; he tilts his face up and presses a small kiss onto Iwaizumi’s wrist, softly, tiredly, entirely unwilling to let go in so many ways more than this. The other boy’s skin is as cold as it has ever been since the last five years. It makes Tooru’s heart turn colder as well. “I’ve been assigned an apprentice now, Iwa-chan. He’s still too wet behind the ears— naïve beyond naïve, really— but, he’ll be good.” Tooru’s lips twist down. “Maybe better than me, even.”
Iwaizumi glances at Oikawa’s frosty expression, and pinches his nose. “Be nice to him.” He lets go and drops his hand, resting it on Oikawa’s instead. Squeezes it. “You’re one hell of a necromancer yourself, the kid will have miles and miles in front of him before he can catch up to you.”
“I suppose so,” Tooru huffs, disbelieving, but he relents all the same. “You’ll meet him soon, I guess. I need to use you for his initiation test, so if it’s alright with you…?”
“I don’t mind,” Iwaizumi scrunches his nose, adding, “but I might be asleep again by then. You’ll have to kick me up once more.”
“Lazy, lazy Iwa-chan~,” singsongs Tooru as he leans to blow a raspberry on Iwaizumi’s cheek. “Going to sleep so quickly when there’s so much to do!” Then, in a mellower tone, mirroring the shadows that flit past his face: “And so much to live for still.”
Their current realities can never be changed no matter how deeply they wish, so all Iwaizumi says in turn is a hope that might be true when the right moment comes. He says, “At least I’m still waiting for you to cross with me to the Otherside.”
Tooru smiles, a little bittersweet. “Beggars cannot be choosers, after all.”