Ship/Character: Semi Eita/Konoha Akinori Fandom: Haikyuu!! Major Tags: None Other Tags: Murderer AU, implied people dying, blood, mentions of food, twisted minds, serial killers, Word Count: 531 Remix Permission: Please ask first
I have no idea what happened here, but I somehow really like how this turned out.
***
“Congratulations, officer,” Greets him through a vocal synthesizer as Semi opens the door. If he’s honest, he’s surprised he’s still alive, let alone still conscious.
They’ve been chasing this murderer for six months now, and something in his gut tells him they’ve only caught him because they want to be caught.
“It’s fine, you can come closer you know,” The synthetic voice continues, then there’s movement and the voice returns, much more human and recognizable, “After all, we’re friends right?”
Too recognizable.
Semi stares as Konoha Akinori lay upside down in an armchair, surrounded by blood. He knows he should be afraid, and maybe panicking slightly.
He most definitely shouldn’t be lowering his gun.
He’s both very aware and very unconcerned about the fact that his colleagues have yet to come through the door behind him.
The murderer- because that’s what he is, isn’t he? A murderer. The cute barista he’s been getting his coffee from and flirting with and going on dates with for the past six months - rights himself in the armchair, laying now so that his feet are dangling off the side of the arm rest,
“Won’t you come closer, Semi-san?” Comes that pretty lilt again, teasing and playful, and Semi swallows, throat suddenly very dry.
He could go for a coffee right now.
He takes one step forward, another, and stops.
Preferably something loaded with sugar, even though he knows it’s going to do nothing to help his dry throat.
Konoha moves again, sitting almost properly now, his legs folded delicately under him,
“That’s hardly what I’d call closer, Semi,” The pout in his voice is clear, and Semi wonders if that restaurant they went to last week would be open at this hour.
He’s kind of hungry right now.
He takes another step forward. Another. The sole of his shoe makes a wet sound against the carpet.
He’s really craving a nice steak.
Akinori stands now, his own shoes making wet sounds as he stands an arms length away,
“I said closer, Eita,” It’s a mere whisper now, playfulness gone, only tantalizing teasing left, promising more, more more.
Semi’s mind is blank, and yet full of craving for one thing. One person.
He takes the last step.
—
“There is still no sign of police officer Semi Eita who has been reported missing after a criminal chase gone wrong two nights ago, around 11PM, it is presumed he was kidnapped as only his gun was found at the scene of the cri-”
He turns off the TV, not caring for the news report, ignoring his lover’s indignant “Hey~ I was watching that,” and sits on the armchair with him, bringing a gloved hand up to cup a soft bloodstained cheek, smearing more dark red over soft skin in doing so,
“Would you not rather we do something more interesting, my love?” He asks. The manic light in blue eyes makes his heart race, knowing it’s reflected in his own,
“You’re right, these people had good taste, we should honor them and put this armchair to good use,”
Semi Eita no longer craves coffee, nor does he crave steak, he only craves the taste of crimson lips.
FILL: Team Sowlmates, T
Fandom: Haikyuu!!
Major Tags: None
Other Tags: Murderer AU, implied people dying, blood, mentions of food, twisted minds, serial killers,
Word Count: 531
Remix Permission: Please ask first
I have no idea what happened here, but I somehow really like how this turned out.
***
“Congratulations, officer,” Greets him through a vocal synthesizer as Semi opens the door. If he’s honest, he’s surprised he’s still alive, let alone still conscious.
They’ve been chasing this murderer for six months now, and something in his gut tells him they’ve only caught him because they want to be caught.
“It’s fine, you can come closer you know,” The synthetic voice continues, then there’s movement and the voice returns, much more human and recognizable, “After all, we’re friends right?”
Too recognizable.
Semi stares as Konoha Akinori lay upside down in an armchair, surrounded by blood. He knows he should be afraid, and maybe panicking slightly.
He most definitely shouldn’t be lowering his gun.
He’s both very aware and very unconcerned about the fact that his colleagues have yet to come through the door behind him.
The murderer- because that’s what he is, isn’t he? A murderer. The cute barista he’s been getting his coffee from and flirting with and going on dates with for the past six months - rights himself in the armchair, laying now so that his feet are dangling off the side of the arm rest,
“Won’t you come closer, Semi-san?” Comes that pretty lilt again, teasing and playful, and Semi swallows, throat suddenly very dry.
He could go for a coffee right now.
He takes one step forward, another, and stops.
Preferably something loaded with sugar, even though he knows it’s going to do nothing to help his dry throat.
Konoha moves again, sitting almost properly now, his legs folded delicately under him,
“That’s hardly what I’d call closer, Semi,” The pout in his voice is clear, and Semi wonders if that restaurant they went to last week would be open at this hour.
He’s kind of hungry right now.
He takes another step forward. Another. The sole of his shoe makes a wet sound against the carpet.
He’s really craving a nice steak.
Akinori stands now, his own shoes making wet sounds as he stands an arms length away,
“I said closer, Eita,” It’s a mere whisper now, playfulness gone, only tantalizing teasing left, promising more, more more.
Semi’s mind is blank, and yet full of craving for one thing. One person.
He takes the last step.
—
“There is still no sign of police officer Semi Eita who has been reported missing after a criminal chase gone wrong two nights ago, around 11PM, it is presumed he was kidnapped as only his gun was found at the scene of the cri-”
He turns off the TV, not caring for the news report, ignoring his lover’s indignant “Hey~ I was watching that,” and sits on the armchair with him, bringing a gloved hand up to cup a soft bloodstained cheek, smearing more dark red over soft skin in doing so,
“Would you not rather we do something more interesting, my love?” He asks. The manic light in blue eyes makes his heart race, knowing it’s reflected in his own,
“You’re right, these people had good taste, we should honor them and put this armchair to good use,”
Semi Eita no longer craves coffee, nor does he crave steak, he only craves the taste of crimson lips.