synopsis: As the steady anchor between Oikawa’s ambition and Iwaizumi’s loyalty, you were the center of a trio that felt destined to last forever. However, as volleyball pulled them toward separate horizons, the easy intimacy of your youth eroded into missed calls and the heavy silence of diverging lives. Years later, catching a glimpse of their unfamiliar faces reveals a quiet grief: you didn't lose them to a fight, but to the slow, natural drift of time.
chidhood friends iwaoi and reader
word count: 2.7k
note: english is my 2nd language so im sorry for any grammatical errors. this is not proofed read or beta-ed.
friend 1: hey i saw oikawa's friend!
friend 2: who? which one?
friend 1: Iwaizumi.
friend 2: iwaizumi Hajime? where?
friend 2: @[reader] girl! OMG!
friend 1: [sent a picture]
friend 1: here at the gym im attending
[reader]: that's a rather closed up picture
friend 2: @[reader] what if
friend 2: look at him~ he's so buff now.
[reader]: hmmm
[reader]: i dont know that person
people like to joke that the three of you came in a set.
where one was, the other two were never far behind.
it started young— before volleyball became everything, before grades and expectations and distance became real enough to split people apart. back when scraped knees were the worst pain imaginable, and promises were made under the summer sun felt permanent.
Oikawa was the loud one.
Iwaizumi was the angry one.
and you—-
you were stuck in between, the referee, accomplice, and witness to every ridiculous thing they've done.
the little tag along.
"stop crying, Oikawa, you were barely cut" Iwaizumi grumbleed as he watched Oikawa clutched his wrist and look at his bleeding finger with tears and snot falling off his face.
"i'm bleeding!"
giving him the flattest look, Iwaizumi said "its a paper cut"
"its hurts like a chihuahua's bite!"
you stood up and humored oikawa by patting his head as if to comfort him
"let's treat that wound then Kawa-chan. lets ignore the big tough wolf over there" you said, giving Iwaizumi a playful stinky eye.
Iwaizumi, who stood across the both of with his usual unimpressed expresssion, muttered exasperatedly "you're both annoying"
"and yet" you said with a smile, wrapping a cartoon bandaid around Oikawa's finger, "you keep hanging out with us"
Iwaizumi clicked his tongue, cheeks faintly pink from the summer hear or maybe embarrassment.
"because if i dont, who's gonna stop you idiot from being foolish and dying?!"
Oikawa gasped and clutched his chest "Iwa-chan, was that you version of a love confession—"
"it was a threat"
"it was so heartfelt. we should be together forever!" Oikawa beamed
both of them stared at each other, one have the eyes of determination the other have the eyes that's irked enough to hit someone
for a moment the three of you were engulfed in silence until you launghed so hard you nearly fell backwards.
you swore you saw that scene in a gag show last night.
that was how it always was.
you in the middle.
oikawa clinging dramatically to you shoulder.
iwaizumi pretending he didnt care while staying anyway.
your parents had given up trying to separate the three of you.
sleepovers became normal. homework became group suffering. family dinners blurred together untilyour parents automatically made extra portions because they assume one or both would eventually show up.
sometimes, on nights when the rain was too loud and everyone was too tired to walk home, the three of you would end up half-asleep in your room.
oikawa sprawled like he paid rent
you stealing most of the blanket
and iwaizumi, stubbornly insisting he was "fine on the floor" until your mother forced him to bed too.
you'd wake up tangled together, oikawa snoring like a dying engine (dude sure can snore even when he was a child), and iwaizumi glaring at the ceiling like the world offended him
"you kick in your sleep" he'd grumble.
"and you drool when you sleep" you'd shoot back
"that was oikawa!"
"lies and slander" oikawa would mumble from under the pillow.
middle school came with sharper edges.
oikawa got pettier— prettier.
iwaizumi is getting broader
and people started looking at the three of you differently.
girls whispered when oikawa walked by.
teachers sighed when you, iwaizumi and oikawa bicker in class
"i'm telling your mom" you said, venom in your tone
"you wouldn't!"
"you stole my pudding!"
"you stole my milkbread!" oikawa exclaimed and pause as he wiped his mouth of the remnants of the syrup of the pudding he had 'stolen'
"and its a communal property!" he defended with conviction as if he was in a court hearing.
a court hearing of bickering teens
"wha— it had my name on it!" you took the plastic cup of the pudding and shoved it on his "see that? its said [readeeeer]!"
iwaizumi who's been silent through the entire altercation voiced his thoughts
"stealing is a incurable disease, trashykawa"
"this is betrayal! im surrounded by betrayers!"
people asked you question as if they were entitled to an answer
"so which on do you like"
to which you would roll your eyes and answer:
"neitgher, they're a disaster!"
but maybe that was only half true.
because there were moments.
small ones.
the kind you never notice until much later in life.
like how iwaizumi always walked on the side closest to the road. how he silently hand you his jacket when you complained about being cold.
how he remembered things you mentioned once in passing— you fave drink, the name of the author you likes, your fave season, fave genre.
he never made it obvious.
oikwa was an easy affection. bright and loud and impossible to ignore. he can charm anyone with the right word, right tone, bright smile and his conviction.
he remembers details of you as well. your fave style, the cafe you want to visit, foods your allergic to, subjects your weak at.
he would make a big deal out of them most of the time.
yet, they were the kind of people you only realized you depended on when they were suddenly gone.
maybe that was the problem.
because by high school, everyone was changing,
especially Oikawa.
volleyball became less of a hobby and more of a hunger.
there were longer practices, bigger expectations, sharper tempers.
the easy childhood softness between the three of you started stretching thing
victories made oikawa glow like the sun itself and lossess makes it feel like winter came a little too early.
you cheered from the sidelines, memorized their jersey numbers, and accidentally get dubed as a volleyball fan cause you explain to your girl friends the difference of a setter and a spiker, a normal serve and a floaty.
because, whether you know it or not, loving people means learning the language they speak.
still, somewhere along the way, you stopped being part of that circle. got sidelines and became part of the crowd watching them grow in their own fields.
at first it was small.
"we can't, practice will be running late"
"sorry, coach added extra drills"
"next time?"
"maybe"
next time became the new phrase often shared between the three of you and highschool made it undeniable the next time exists for every denied and cancelled plans.
volleyball wasnt just important. it was everything.
especially for oikawa.
every conversation bent towards it. every mood and hangout depended on it.
every version of the future seemed to begin and end with the court.
iwaizumi followed closed behind— not because he was chasing oikawa, but because he had always been the person standing beside him.
and you?
you stayed in the same place as before. trying not to notice how much emptier it was becoming. trying to hold together pieces of a fragile glass that once didnt need effort to put together.
lunches became rushed.
hangouts became rescheduled.
group chats became mostly you asking when everyone is free.
sometimes they answered.
most of the time they dont.
you told yourself not to be dramatic and expand your circle.
it didnt have to be them any longer.
"people grew up. people got busy. this is normal" was something you tell yourself most of the time.
but grief starts long before loss admits itself.
one evening, you sat alone in your room staring at your phone.
your last message in the group chat:
are we still meeting today?
seen.
no reply.
an hour later, oikawa posted a picture from practive.
iwaizumi in the background, sweaty, and as usual looks mildly annoyed and some of their volleyball teammates.
caption: my loyal subjects.
you stared at it longer that you should have.
then locked your phone. then unlocked it again.
then laughed at yourself because what were you even upset about?
they were busy. you knew that. you supported that.
so why did it feel like you were being left behind?
maybe because being understanding and being unhurt were never the same thing?
and they werent even cruel about it.
cruel would have been easier.
there was no fight.
no betrayal.
no dramatic ending.
just slow erosion.
like the tide taking something grain by grain until one day the shoreline looks unfamiliar.
and that silent night, you cried alone under the full moon's light.
"I'm leaving the country" Oikawa sprung it up on their rare sleep over of their third year.
"I'm going to Argentina after graduation" he continued.
Silence engulf your room
"wha—what do you—" before you could even finish your sentence iwaizumi spoke
"I guess the talk you had with coach cleared your head huh?"
"yeah. yeah, it did" he replied, closing his eyes as if recalling a good memory.
and for the first time in a long while your room felt too small for the three of you.
and for the first time you felt alone in the company of people you once hold dear.
its like they live in a different world, and you were an alien hovering.
and for the first time in a long while, since you first met them, you became polite.
for the first time, you had to knock and ask to be let in the world they built without you in mind.
"may i know what this is all about?"
their eyes met, realizing that you practically do not know what they were talking about.
that they had unintentionally left you in the dark.
lo and behold oikawa started chattering away, about how he met his idol Jose Blanco, to how he was practically offered a mentorship.
atleast you were one of the first people he told about this, right?
graduation came like a funeral dressed as celebration.
the three of you posed for the camera one last time. as if to commemorate the closing of a chapter or an ending of a book.
pictures were taken and promises were made when nobody knew how to keep them.
then came his flight
"i'll visit" oikawa said with his puffy eyes.
"bruh, we both know that's impossible. its volleyball over life for you" you said in all seriousness while holding back the tears that was threatening to fall.
"hey! i know work-life balance" he defended himself, pouting.
you and iwaizumi gave him a blank stare and said "yeah right" looking utterly unconvinced by his defense.
"dont forget me when i become internationally famous" he said smugly, as if to inflate his confidence that was shattered by your stares.
"as if your ego would let that happen" iwaizumi slung his arms across oikawa's shoulder and ruffled his head and they both laughed.
all of you laughed
then quiter—
"you'll be okay, right?"
such a stupid question, because what were you supposed to say? 'dont leave and stay here with us?'
let him rot in a town that is not letting him fly?
so instead you offerend him a smile that didnt reach your eyes
"obviously" he engulf both of you in one final hug and said "i will miss both of you. i will miss this. i will miss how easy we folded with each other. i will miss how easy we read each other." he said, his voices cracking.
you just hugged him thighter, because you knew.
this will be it.
this will be the last time you will see him this way.
this will be the last time you will see the semblance of the oikawa you grew up with, because by the time he comeback, by the time he step back in this very airport he will no longer be the oikawa you knew.
And Iwaizumi, he didnt say much. but maybe he also knew the implications, the realization of what time and distance entails for the three of you.
When Oikawa disappeared from sight, the silence did not suffocate you.
ironically, it comforted you. it reminded you of your childhood— where silence between the three of you were easy, comfortable, warm and full of understanding.
maybe that's why you said "you're leaving too, right?" with the gentlest smile you could muster while looking at the direction Oikawa disappeared to.
he stared straight ahead, jaw tight, shoulders tense, like if he let himself breathe too deeply, something inside him might crack.
iwaizumi blinked.
his expression shifted. caught off guard by the certainty of your question.
"when's your flight iwa-chan?"
"what?"
you chuckled and look at his face that is now staring at you as if you grew another head. "you and Kawa-chan's are two side's of the same coin. you're more alike than what you believe y'know"
"that's ridiculous, [reader]" he scoffed yet smiled softly at what you said.
"You're both larger than life. You will always chase excellence in the places that call for you. In that sense, both of you are the same."
he kept looking at you.
too intently.
too honestly.
"is that why you're asking?"
"yes"
for a long time, he said nothing.
the airport lights reflected in the glass around you, making everything feel distant and dissonant yet ironically comforting.
finally, he spoke.
"i thought you'd be the one leaving first"
you frowned, "what?"
"you always looked past here" he said, "past this town. past us"
his voice wasnt accusing. it was as if he was stating a fact.
a fact that shows how much absence affected your friendship cause he no longer knew you. you dont know where he pulled the words he had just uttered. because you thought you cant fly as high as they can.
"you had plans. big ones. you always seem like you would be going somewhere"
he looked away then, like saying this much already cost too much.
once again, silence engulf the both of you until the both of you parted ways.
adulthood came like a thief. and friendship, as it turns out, was one of the easiest thing to leave behind.
at first, the group chat were filled with text once again.
Oikawa from Argentina with his selfies, complaints, and dramatic declarations of suffering, longing and homesickness
Iwaizumi from California with his random health facts, and random sports questions for Oikawa, random daily life update
and you from Tokyo with you day to day life as the regular smegular colleger girl, in new town, new place, and new people.
then less.
and less
and null.
birthdays became late greetings
then missed calls
then silenced, once visited your group chat, welcomed it back like a friend.
the silence stretched so long that reaching out started to feel embarrassing.
like showing up to a house you used to live in and realizing someone else owns it now.
friend 1: hey I saw oikawa's friend!
friend 2: who? which one?
friend 1: Iwaizumi
friend 2: iwaizumi hajime? where?
friend 2: @[reader] girl! omg
friend 2: weren't the three of you friends before?
friend 1: [sent a photo]
[reader]; that's a rather closed up photo
You stare at the image.
Too close.
Too familiar.
Broader shoulders.
Sharper jaw.
A a built that still looks like home if you squint.
friend 2: @[you] what if 👀👀👀
friend 2: look at him~ he’s so buff now
You type:
hmmm
Then:
i don’t know that person
And maybe that’s the cruelest lie you tell. Because you do know him.
You know the boy who sat on your bedroom floor doing homework.
The boy who walked closest to the road without thinking. The boy who knew how you took your coffee before you started drinking coffee. You know the version of him that existed when your lives still touched.
But adulthood makes strangers out of people who once knew your soul.
And sometimes the grief isn’t that they changed.
It’s that they changed without you.
So no—you don’t know that person.
Not anymore.
You only know the ghosts.
And ghosts, unfortunately,
don’t text back.
A/N: this is my second time posting anything on here! I hope you enjoyed this one, dears! <3
comments mean the most to me!
like comment and reblog dearests!
«It was an ancient terror, I’ve heard people say. Or a pagan devil, rising from the dark maw of the mine to devour all in its path. Some say it was a haunting. If you ask me, that’s too straightforward. Can you imagine if this were nothing but a ghost story, full of cold drafts and shadows where they oughtn’t be, clammy palms and sweaty napes? That’s too clean a tale. Too simple.
And this one gets messy.»
OK CONSIDER FOR A REQUEST - Reader is a warrior who ended up being injured by a dragon they barely managed to defeat (RIP dragon). They black out just as Aaravos finds them and they wake up to him tending to their wounds. With a lecture. Or not. Your choice. Godspeed (Dragonspeed?)
Thank you very much Anon, I love this idea! Reminder that Request's are always, permanently open.
This request will have an already established relationship with Aaravos, husband to be specific
Warning's: Briefly fighting a dragon I suppose, being wounded.
First of all..how does one get into such a situation. You had a genius idea of going to defeat a dragon with no crew. As you approached the rampaging wyvern wreaking havoc with your weapon it growled out angrily, turning to you with a screech as it charged. You dodge out of the way narrowly, swinging at the large creature, managing to only slash it's leg. The wyvern roars in anger, fwipping around quickly-..It caused you to be wacked by it's long tail. A yelp left you as you fell back, weapon clattering away. As you laid on the ground your eyes started fluttering closed..The last thing you saw was the wyvern being subdued by a soft white and purple spell.
..Hours, days or even weeks later you awoke inside your husbands home. A tall ceiling and glistening appearance, with a soft groan a damp feeling on your cheek.
"Starlight, your choice was rather foolish." A smooth, honey-like voice said in your ear.
A hiss left you as ointment was applied to your stinging head. "Wh.." A confused hum left you, only met with a husky chuckle from Aaravos.
"You hurt yourself, my dear..seriously. Why attempt to fight a dragon my darling." The startouched elf sighed. with a soft groan you attempted to sit up. "It was..hurting people. I wanted to help..-" You were sharply cut off. "And you were hurt in kind. Stars, your foolish mortal mind is so..utterly, empathetic." He sighed out, caressing your face gently with one hand, dabbing your wound with a damp cloth on the other. "To me you're truly fragile." Aaravos mumbled, kissing your head..then softy tugged at a strand of your hair.
"Use your glorious brain, hm?" He said softly, an affectionate manner taking him over as he cared for your wounds. Flustered as you were doted on, you glance up at him. "Should I have let it happen?.." "Yes." You were answered almost instantly, he looked a bit serious. "You should let me handle such things, my brightest star. Call for me, keep yourself bundled away and safe If I am not there." He fretted ever so slightly, pressing his forehead to yours.
"I could never imagine losing you, my dear."
Summary: A collection of letter between the veterans and their loves.
Chapter five: Letter to Lorelei
'My Lorelei,
I hate that you are still in that hell hole, but those brats are lucky to have you. I’ll find a way to get you the medicine, I promise. Just take care of yourself, I can't have you getting sick. They can't have you getting sick.
As for that man, let me know if he comes back. And tell Dean thank you for protecting his mother, he's a good brat. He reminds you of me huh? I don't know if that's a good thing considering how I turned out. But if it means he's protective over you, I can rest easy.
I can handle being a weapon, and my life is perfect, if only cause I got you. As for Isabel and Furlan, they do deserve better, but that's why we're here so we can get citizenship. And when we do, I'm coming for you and those kids. I'll give you guys a life you can be proud of, I promise.
I think of you each night, you're what I dream about when I sleep, you and those words that I miss hearing. So I'll stay alive, I'll keep Furlan and Isabel alive. I'll come back and I'll hear you say those words to me again, that's what gives me strength to live.
Levi'
Lorelei smiled as she read the letter her beloved sent, his care expressed without lovey nicknames or honeyed words. It was his honesty that conveyed it. He knew the ways to her heart like beaten paths. She could count on his promises, he never lied to her before.
She could picture the life he described, a life she could be proud of, a life for her and Levi with the three kids she had adopted.
She knew Levi didn't care for children because of his own life, but he also knew She could abandon them, they had come to count on her, to see her as a mother and inadvertently, see him as a father.
Lorelei let her eyes drift over to the laughter and squeals came from, two boys were wrestling around, all to make a sickly little girl giggle at their foolishness. Dean, Alistair and Adora, her kids, all by pure accident. She could picture it now, a bright sunny day, Isabel and Furlan playing with the children while she cooks and Levi cleans, yes that would be a life she would be proud of.
So she could wait for Levi, for him to work his way out of this filthy pit, and she could trust him to come back for her and the kids.
