Damian rouses from his nap just as the car rumbles past the gates. There's a familiar crunch when the tires shift from the dirt road of the countryside to the gravelly paths of his family's villa. The white noise is almost soothing, really, if it weren't for the pit digging itself deeper into his stomach. He wishes physically shaking himself would dislodge it, but potential catharsis aside, he'd just look stupid. Jeeves has enough embarrassing memories of Damian filed away already.
He settles for staring at his reflection on the car window, hoping his actual face doesn't look as nervous.
Get a grip, Damian. You can do this.
âââ
notes: i had a vision for how this was going to go like there was going to be plot for this one, but this is the only bit that sit right with me. at least i got the word in!
Death was supposed to be like the end of the worldâan all-consuming, terrible dark. Screams of agony, torrents of tears, the gray expanse of a cloud-covered sky. The world as he knew it falling apart around him.Â
At least, that's what the poets said.
It's been forty days since his father died; forty days of waiting for the end of the world to come. And though the air is still, it's crisp and clear and burns in his lungs when he runs. The clouds float aimlessly in a yawning blue sky. Each day, he watches the sun come and go, reimagining the world in pink and lavender and gold. The birds sing, the children laugh, and the world rumbles as it turns.
Everything is how it was, and he's the only one in pieces.
âââ
notes: i'm doing this writing exercise because i'm very out of practice and i really don't want to be! the mission is to write a snippet based on these prompts. to give myself a *little* more direction, i'll be developing an sxf au that's been festering in my mind since it came to meâthe dead dad au. but there's no word count or super strict deadline, and the snippets don't even have to connect chronologically. tbh i envision the end product to be a collection of ideas rather than a complete story because the au has really mostly been just vibes in my head anyway. at least now, i have a chance to explore them and see what it could be.
also, for clarity, while i don't mention him by name, the narrator in this snippet is damian!
A/N: For the prompt "oisuga + things you said that i wish you hadnt"! Thank you to the anon who requested it <3
âââ
Oikawa looks on in half-horror, half-joy as Suga gets down on one knee.
"Tooru, will you marry me?"
He gives himself a moment to take it all inâthe planetarium, the custom display of all his favorite constellations and planets, the question 'Ready for the next adventure?' spelled out in stars. Instead of the nature sounds that had been playing earlier, the familiar notes of their song trickle through every speaker, a faint whisper slithering between excited gasps and bated breaths as all their loved ones look on in anticipation. Iwaizumi looks proud, Sawamura and his boyfriend right behind him. In his periphery, he notes Kouki and Takeru having a whispered argument over the cameraâno doubt tasked to record this whole affair, if only so they had something to do. He's pretty sure it's his mom he hears crying, all but bundled up in Suga's mom's arms while Suga's father holds both their purses. And when his eyes finally look back to his Sugawaraâto beautiful, wonderful, refreshing Sugaâhe's holding out the most breathtaking engagement ring he's ever seen.
"Well?" Suga smiles as if he got him, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
That little bastard.
"YouâŚ" It's hard to sound venomous when one is choked up with tears, but damn, Oikawa tries.
Suga only bats his eyes innocently. "Me�"
"Kou-chan, how could you?" He couldn't help itâhe pouts. The way Suga giggles in response is almost enough to distract him, but not quite. "This isn't how it's supposed to go!"
"Do you not like it?"
"Are you kidding? It's perfect! Literally everything I've ever wanted! You even made a freaking constellation after me," he adds, pointing to the collection of stars above him, aptly named, The Grand King. "But I wanted to propose to you. Iwa-chan and I even went toâ"
Wait. He wouldn'tâŚ
But when he finds Iwaizumi's eyes in the crowd, the smugness is unmistakable.
"IWA-CHAN, YOU TRAITOR! You knew, didn't you? Do theâ"
"âsacred bonds of brotherhood mean nothing to me, blah blah whatever." Iwaizumi rolls his eyes but it's fond, and the corners of his mouth keep turning up on instinct. "More importantly, Shittykawa, are you gonna give him an answer or what?"
"Yeah, get on with it, already!" His mom yells. She blows her nose into a fresh tissueâbless Suga's dad and his preparednessâbefore adding, "Don't keep Koushi-chan waiting!"
"Mom, pleaseâ"
"Tooru, pause."
Suga must've stood when he wasn't looking, because there he is, using his free hand to guide Oikawa's gaze back to soft hazel eyes. His thumb caresses his cheek the way he usually does whenever Oikawa works up a fit. He finds himself matching his breath to that slow rhythm, watching as the amusement waters down on Suga's face and his smile turns even gentler, barbless and tame.
Suga draws his hand back just as Oikawa drapes his arms around the other's shoulders, bringing them close enough that their foreheads touch.
"Hey there," Suga whispers. "You doing okay?"
Oikawa sighs, hugging Suga even closer, practically nuzzling his neck. If he hears a retching noise that sounds suspiciously like Matsukawa, he chooses to ignore it.
"You owe me a chance to propose to you."
He feels more than hears the laugh that leaves Suga. "Naturally."
"Because I swear, I have a ring and everything."
"Of course you do."
"And it was going to be perfect for you, because it's always been about me."
"Silly Tooru, you know that's not true." Suga taps on his shoulder, urging him to look up. "But I also know you're deflecting."
For the first time that day, something shifts in Suga's eyesâuncertainty. Oikawa hates that it looks familiar.
"You don't have to say yes if you don't want to, you know. WeâI know we've talked about it, but if it's still too earlyâ"
"Now who's being silly?" Oikawa reaches for the hand still holding the ring box, cradling it in both of his. "It's just⌠you've given me everything I've ever wanted. So I wanted to do the same, at least starting by giving this to you."
"And you will be. Because this," Suga raises their clasped hands, "is everything I could possibly want. You, me, for the rest of our lives. So what do you say?"
Later, someone tells him that when they popped the confetti, they got it everywhere except on the happy couple. Their parents and family members were huddled around each other, congratulating each other with relieved smiles on their faces. Though he denies it, Iwaizumi held back tears with the ugliest expression ever (Matsukawa has proof). Sawamura took over filming, while Kuroo gave color commentary at the side. Hanamaki was yelling at his phone, likely in a video call with their former teammates, and Matsukawa barely got a word in edgewise. It was a lot, maybe too much, and someone from the planetrium definitely came by to tell them to keep it down and remind them that their reservation was almost over.
In the moment though, all that fades away as he gazes at Suga, who slips the ring onto Oikawa's finger with trembling hands. At Suga, who's crying and laughing and hiccuping all at once, who's never looked as beautiful as he does now. At Suga, who looks up like he's seeing Oikawa for the first time.
Not for the last time, Oikawa pulls him close. "I can't wait to live the rest of my life with you, Kou-chan."
---
A/N: So! This is my first (finished) Haikyuu fic lol. I think I did okay ^^
Big thanks to @littencloud9 for the support! Also because gushing about oisuga with you really made the process of writing this much easier.
Btw the sendai astronomical observatory is apparently a real place that also has a planetarium. I've never been, but like. Knowing it exists is super fun for me because I can pretend this can feasibly happen <3
Characters: Ryuu Jusetsu, Tan Kai, On Kei (mentioned)
A/N: This is a snippet for an AU that I've had in my drafts forever. Might as well post it since I really like what I wrote đ
âââ
"What do you think you're doing?"
Jusetsu doesn't turn to acknowledge him, choosing instead to throw the dart in her hand at a well-worn board across the room. She misses by a wide margin, and Tan Kai couldn't help the petty smirk that crawls onto his face, but he wipes it off when she faces him, eyes in shadow.
"If you must know," Jusetsu says, the lazy tone only slightly affected. "I'm reclaiming the rest of my Saturday night. I advise you to do the same," she adds, offering the dart in her other hand.
He scoffs, but takes the offered dart anyway, if only to have something to hold on to. He stares at the board, imagining white numbers counting the seconds down, wishing he could throw the dart hard enough to shatter the board and the hot and wet feelings climbing into his throat.
He throws. He misses. Stupid game.
"He's not supposed to be here," he says.
"I know."
"You had an agreement."
"I know."
"He left us, for fuck's sake, and he has the gall toâ"
"Tan Kai. I know." There's a weathered look in Jusetsu's eyes that gives him pause. He rarely sees it these days, not since the work started getting easier and being just the two of them slowly became enough. Did Jusetsu get better at hiding it, or did Tan Kai just not want to notice?
"Wait, what are you doing here, then?" Jusetsu asks, a divet forming between her brows. "You were supposed to go and see him. It's why I requested the kit in the first place."
Tan Kai huffs. "Left it outside the door. He could patch himself up for all I care."
"You... never mind, fine." Jusetsu deposits the rest of the darts in a wooden case, neatly lining them up before snapping the lid shut. Tan Kai doesn't miss the gold letters etched on the cover, bright and taunting despite how worn and weathered the case was. Tan Kai was sure he chucked it into the trash months ago, feeling the tiniest satisfaction in seeing it disappear down the chute. But when did she...
Well. She's always been a softie.
He snaps back to reality as Jusetsu roughly tugs him out of the rec room and into the muted lights of the hall. He quickens his pace to match hersâjust to keep from tripping, and definitely not for that piece of shit that crawled back hereâsoon stopping outside a room. His room. (Because even the mangled meat pounding in his rib cage couldn't deny that it'll always be his room.)
Jusetsu places the first aid kit in Tan Kai's arms before gingerly turning the doorknob, slowly cracking the door open. Tan Kai notices then the dried drops of blood on the hardwood, a steady trail coming from the other side of the hallâfrom Jusetsu's office, most likely. He wills his heart not to stop and his mind not to race, but then Jusetsu pulls him in and flicks on one of the desk lamps.
Tan Kai has imagined this moment from the minute On Kei left. He'd make him cry, grovel at their feet, beg for forgiveness he'd never deserve. Sure, the fantasies always ended with Jusetsu flinging him back, throwing a withering glare his way before taking On Kei away until Tan Kai could cool his head long enough to have a proper conversation. But he'd at least have those five minutes of satisfaction, which would never truly be enough for all the grief he and Jusetsu went through because of him.
Still, he never thought he'd look like this.
He turns to Jusetsu and he doesn't see the Ravenâthe incarnation of the Living Moon, the only surviving member of the central Ran clan, and current head of the League in the Night. He remembers a girl from long ago, clad in the purest white, with eyes as clear and grand as a winter sky.
"What was I supposed to do?" she asks quietly, those same eyes cloudy and cold, the fight leaking out of her.
Relationships: (One-sided?) Ka Koshun/Ryuu Jusetsu (implied)
Characters: Ka Koshun, Ei Sei, Ryuu Jusetsu (mentioned)
A/N: i.e., Koshun being sentimental after Jusetsu leaves. May or may not be a series, contains light novel spoilers not in the anime. I wrote this with a Modern AU in mind but it ended up being vague enough to fit both the AU and canon so there's that lol
âââ
They don't look alike.
The words roll around in his mind, but he knows this. It's why it came as a shock when Ei Sei first revealed it to him, shoulders shaking and eyes quivering in a way Koshun has only seen a handful of times before. Because on first inspection, there's hardly any evidence to support the idea that Jusetsu and Ei Sei could be related, much less be siblings, from their hair to their eyes to the planes of their faces and bodies. There were no records, their parents were deceased, and no other reliable witnesses.
And yet.
There it is, he thinks, peeking at Ei Sei over the rim of his tea cup.
They've been friends for years, but Ei Sei has always kept his distance, claiming the difference in their stations as a reasonable excuse. Koshun never agreedâin his eyes, they were both orphans with mothers who protected them to their ruin and fathers who couldn't care less. They had the same teachers, ate the same food, slept under the same roof ("Only because you made it so, Koshun-sama," Ei Sei lamented). Ei Sei was achingly familiar, more family to him than any of his half-siblings, whose own families have shielded them from the estranged Ka boy.
All of this is to say that despite Ei Sei (stubbornly, stupidly) always standing five paces away, Koshun knows him. Even now that he's more relaxed than he's ever been (especially so in the year since they met Jusetsu), seated across him with his back slumped against his chair, nursing a cup of tea with a free hand. His other massages his temple as his eyes are closedâa long-time tell that he was mentally preparing a lecture for Koshun, a tell that would always and only ever remind him of Ei Sei if anyone else did it.
But then he opens his eyes, and there's that look. When he opens his mouth to lecture him, there's that tone. He tilts his head in the same way as he finishes his argument. And even though Koshun has only known her for a fraction of the time that he's known Ei Sei, he sees herâall the little bits that she somehow shares with his best friend who is miraculously also her brother, who is his only tie to her now that she's left their home to explore the world.
"Oi, Koshun-sama." Ei Sei huffsâsomething he's always done, but how did Koshun not notice sooner that she did the exact same when he annoyed her? "You're doing it again."
"Doing what?"
"Deluding yourself." Ei Sei moves to stand, taking his and Koshun's cups with him to rinse in the sink. "We aren't that alike."
Koshun and the running tally in his mind beg to differ.
"when you kiss someone, is it really normal to do it that many times?" âyor forger
aka 4 snippets of yor asking about kissing. inspired by sxf short mission 14!
enjoy~
...
1ď¸âŁ
When she asks her, Ms. Martha quirks a brow and flushes. It's a first, Yor thinks, to see the older woman look flustered when she's typically calm and composed in a way Yor envies.
"I'm hardly an expert on the subject," Martha says, her blush deepening. She looks at Yor a beat too long, lips poised to speak, before shaking her head and following the children out.
...
2ď¸âŁ
Camilla stares at her a little, almost making her wish that she didn't ask. "You talk like you're not married to a hot guy, senpai," she finally says before sipping her coffee. "I mean, when you look at him, don't you just want to... you know?" She raises her eyebrows and puckers her lips a bit, and it takes everything in Yor not to crush the spoon in her hands.
"W-w-with Loid, you mean??" But we're not like that! she wants to say. Though then again... they are married. Is that what married people do?
She turns to Sharon, who shrugs. "I don't french my husband every chance I get, if that's what you're asking."
This only makes her blush even deeper, to which Millie just laughs, young and uncaring.
...
3ď¸âŁ
"I'm sorry, please forget that I asked! It was inappropriate of me." Her fingers twitch around her cup causing the tiniest ripples to form on the surface of the tea, breaking the reflection staring back at her.
"Nonsense, dear," Barbara says, setting a plate of biscuits down. "I've heard young wives ask more embarrassing things at the start of their own marriages. This is nothing."
"Is that so...?"
Barbara has an austere face. It reminds Yor of the landlady at her first apartment in Berlintâsharp, scrutinizing, always early to knock on her door to ask about rent (never mind that Yor was always just as early to settle her balance with the lady's daughter). But Barbara's smiles are kind, enough for Yor's shoulders to relax and for her hands to stop shaking.
"'Normal', you ask?" Barbara raises her cup to her nose, sniffing the tea before taking a sip. "Well, I think everyone's normal looks different, dear. If we were all the same, then love would be immensely boring, don't you think? Why, when Sigmund and I first started dating..."
...
4ď¸âŁ
Loid coughs into his drink. She didn't think she'd catch him this off guard, but it must be weird for a wife to ask her husband about kissing?
"I'm so sorry! You don't have to answer, after all!" Yor has half a mind to put on her shoes and sprint out to go anywhere, literally anywhere else. She settles for burying her face into a pillow, wishing she could at least go back in time and smack some sense into past Yor.
"It's alright, Yor. I asked you to tell me." Loid clears his throat. "Erm, can I ask what brought this on though?"
"I... just don't know what to think, I guess?" It's not the whole truth, but it relieves her still to be honest. "I've never paid attention to things like this before. But now that we're married, I wonder if maybe I have to? B-Becauseâ"
Because she doesn't get it.
Because she's never kissed anyone.
Because she's doesn't know how she'd know if she wanted to.
"âI won't know what to do. For our cover, I mean. I've messed up before, haven't I?"
Loid is quiet, which is somehow scarier than if he'd laughed at her for being silly. She chances a peek; at least he's not looking at her. But there's something about his eyesâsomething that's foreign on Loid's face and yet still somehow eerily familiar. When he catches her staring, he brightens, and it's just Loid again looking back at her.
"I agree that kissing can help maintain the illusion of a happy, married couple," he says. "And I know there were times in the past where we've been pushed to do it, but it's not the only way to show love and affection. I'd rather not do anything that will make you uncomfortable, and we could always just figure out what works best for us."
"But our coverâ"
"âis fine. We're fine. But I appreciate that you've given it a lot of thought, Yor. It means a lot." At this, he cracks a smile, his usually sharp eyes now gentle, looking impossibly handsome under their modest kitchen lighting. Her heart stutters at the sightâa familiar feeling, at least whenever Loid is concerned.
When you look at him, don't you just want to... you know?
"Papa! Turn off my light for me!"
Loid rolls his eyes, the small smile on his lips betraying unmistakable fondness. "That girl... I swear." He downs the rest of his drink before turning back to give Yor a parting look. "You should turn in soon, too. Rest easy, Yor."
"L-likewise."
When he's finally out of sight, Yor releases a breath she didn't realize she was holding. She thinks backâto his eyes, his smile, his gentle reassurance, the way her heart skipped when she was with him... She doesn't quite understand them yet, if these are close to the feelings people get for someone they'd want to kiss.
But if it's with Loid, maybe she wouldn't mind finding out.
Damian didn't think he'd mind being alone, but the days were too slow when it's just him. He'd never felt like this before, not when there was so much he needed to do, not when there were too many shadows to chase after.
But then there's the alternative.
"Oi, sy-on boy, mind giving me a hand?"
It's close to midnight, but the Forger girl kicks the door in anyway, bags in arms with even more in the hallway. After dropping the first batch onto the kitchen counterâwas that a crack he heard?âshe sinks into a chair and smiles expectantly at him, shaking the ache out of her arms and legs.
Leave me alone.
You don't need to be here.
Let me be bored in peace.
"You bought too much," he says instead, ducking out to drag in the rest of the horde. By the time he's done, she's whipped out a little blue notebook, likely taking note of what she's spent on this time.
"But these are the essentials!! You can never have too much of the essentials."
"And how exactly are three jumbo packs of salted peanuts essential?" He asks, dangling the bags in front of her.
"To me. They're essential to me." She snatches her peanuts and tosses them into the corner basket she commandeered for her stuff.
They work in silence then: her scribbling in her notes, him putting away the groceries. It's only when his hands clutch air after the first few bags that he realizes he doesn't mind this kind of quiet, that it's not as stifling as it should've been. He only notices her staring at him after putting the last bag away. Those green eyes somehow look brighter in the low light, like a watchful cat planning its next move.
He turns away, face feeling a little hot. Must be from the exertion.
"You can go now."
"Aww but aren't you bored, sy-on boy?"
"I'm perfectly capable of entertaining myself. Plus it's late. I wouldn't want your mother to worry."
"Sweet boy." The legs of the chair scrape against the floor as she stands up. Light footsteps stop beside him, and she tosses him a satchel she's magically produced seemingly out of thin air. "Here, for your trouble."
On instinct, he catches it, bulky and hefty. "More junk?"
She smiles, and Damian would never say it out loud, but it's definitely one of her nicer ones. "Not to you."
It's only after she leaves that he unfastens the satchel and finds an assortment of books within, all things he's been wanting to read. And when his face grows hot after... well. He doesn't have much of an excuse to give anymore.
Sometimes, the alternative isn't so bad after all.
Sunlight wriggles through the slats of his windows, coating the tiny studio apartment in an uncharacteristic wash of warmth. Damian blinks against it, unused to the intrusion. He's made it a point these past few weeks to shutter his blinds as an ode to the natural state of the world, but that girl must've nudged them open when she dropped by last night.
"The natural state of the world? I know you're fancy, but pretentious doesn't suit you, sy-on boy."
The illumination reveals other vestiges of her presence: a fresh bag of oranges, a clean stack of clothes, and even his mail are lined up on his kitchen counter. His sink, once teeming with used plates and plastic takeout containers, had been emptied, with only a still-damp wash cloth left to tell the tale. Save for Damian's deskâwhich is really just a glorified collapsible stand that the previous tenant left behindâanything that's been crooked has been straightened out and anything out of place has been put back where it belonged.
If only sorting out his own thoughts could be as simple.
The soft glow of sunlight sharpens into a knife-like glare that hits him squarely in the eyes. He takes it as his cue to get up and make his bed, pulling tight at the covers until the Damian-sized dent becomes a smattering of smaller depressions in his mattress.
