isla-04

[isla-04]

always an angel, never a god. - g. satoru

pairing: gojo satoru + fem!reader

summary: is he truly aware of how different he is?

warnings: angst! reader and gojo are students at jujustu high, everyone is safe!!! comfort, fluff, mentions of violence. i broke my heart a little. can be seen as foreshadowing but you didn’t hear that from me.

a/n: inspired by “not strong enough” by boy genius. i fear this is my new favorite.

demeaning is what you would call this.

watching, in something you can only describe as jealousy, as gojo satoru walks back towards you, a shit-eating grin present on his face.

it’s like this often.

infantilization would be an exaggeration. satoru doesn’t baby you per-say, but there is clearly a conscious effort made to make sure you are always behind him. he leads. he attacks. he succeeds.

and then you’re back at square one. walking together, back to jujustu high as satoru rambles about arbitrary topics. missions with him end quickly. he asks, - or, more accurately - orders, you to stay back as he takes less than a minute in exorcising whatever curses are ahead. you never question him as to why you’re always paired together. you know he has something to do with it.

“you hungry?” he smiles, an arm comfortably rested across your shoulders. he subconsciously guides you as you walk along the pavement.

you spare a quick glance at him. he looks content, that expression of satisfaction feeling somewhat bothersome to you at the moment.

“not really…” you mumble, eyes trailing off as you looked at the buildings beside the two of you.

you wonder as to why you’re beside him. not in the literal sense - you already know he’s here by pure will. but, what was the point of missions, of jujustu, when all you did was stay back and observe? you gave up any chance of a normal life for this.

you feel satoru looking at you.

you contemplate for a little, choosing to avoid his eyes. defeatedley, you briefly close yours.

your voice is quiet as you speak. you wonder if he even hears you, your voice muffled under the busy street noise.

"this has to stop, gojo."

the rest of the walk is silent.

•••

your abilities could never amount to satoru.

he had everyone beat - effortlessly, really. there was no process of acceptance for it. you couldn’t mourn the loss of something you could never have.

the god himself, picked from the heavens and placed into your world. clouding your senses, leaving only the thought of him in your head. he was impossible to ignore. the brightest of people that made you feel so incredibly dull.

he was beautiful. ethereal and worshipped. you knew you loved him, pathetically so.

it was obvious that some amount of affection was mutual. he was constantly around you, where he had clearly stated - out loud - that it was where he preferred to be. you basked in his presence.

“what movie?”

your eyes scan the two discs in satoru’s hands. a horror and a thriller. judging by the intense covers of both, you had a suspicion that they weren’t too different.

“options seem… limited.” you mumble, a soft smile on your face as you watch him in amusement. you quickly learned that satoru never really flocked towards a certain genre. he could easily watch an action movie and jump straight into a depressive drama.

“option one it is!” he grins, turning back to the TV, pressing play almost immediately after the disc is inserted. you wonder how he was always so hyper. he could be thrown a boulder the size of the earth and not seem affected. it worried you at times.

you move a little to the side of your bed, making room for him. this was a bit of a routine. a class, training, or mission would be over and the two of you would naturally be in your room afterwards, talking or watching whatever movies saturo would randomly bring.

you loved it. whatever it was. you couldn’t tell.

“have you seen this one?” you asked, heart briefly stopping as you register the feeling of his head resting comfortably in your lap. he’s so casual about it. a hand is gently placed on your thigh.

“no, i just got it last week.” he replies, glancing up at you. his glasses are off. the blue is almost frightening, too compelling to look back at. you refrain.

you hum in response, learning back against the wall as your eyes follow the bright screen ahead. you try your best to ignore the boy in your lap. it works for a bit.

there’s three pokes on your thigh about half-way through the movie.

looking down, you raise a brow at satoru.

he smiles, pleased at your attention.

“who’s more likely to die in a horror movie - me or you?”

you scoff, head tilting back up to pay attention to the movie again. you’re painfully reminded that satoru can be a little clueless at times. he’s an idiot.

“hey,” he whines, poking your side this time, eliciting a slap on the wrist from you. “i’m serious!”

you knew he meant for the question to be fun - he probably asked it because he was tired of the silence. but he was oblivious, you noticed. maybe dense. it had been a long day, you doubt he meant any harm. but, you also couldn’t help but feel he is slightly taunting you. tormenting because he knows how easy of an answer that is. a hand is raised, and you carefully brush his hair out if his face.

“you would outlive all of us, satoru.”

silence comes again.

you feel the hand on your thigh retreat, and suddenly satoru sits up.

you don’t mean for your words to come out as harshly as they do. you’re blunt at times, and it makes you feel guilty. couldn’t you humor him a little - reply back with a smile that is equally as playful? but you can’t compare to him. you don’t have the luxury to be so high-spirited all of the time.

you’re forced to look at him now, his eyes staring you down. the movie is on low volume, dialogue from the characters coming out as low hums. you’ve never seen satoru like this. he’s without a smile, and his lips are downcast in a small frown.

“i don’t want that.”

his voice sounds almost defeated, as if it’s an admission to a thought he hides from. you realize that the conversation has moved past a silly theoretical question and on to something real.

“i hate the thought of that.” satoru elaborates, closing his eyes briefly.

he’s gifted, of course. he’s aware. gojo satoru takes his confidence everywhere because he can. he allows himself to brag, because what else can he do? he can’t hide his strength. everyone knows what he is capable of. he’s not “normal.” he can’t be. when the world calls, he’s there. he puts himself in an incredible amount of danger and is never afraid because he knows he will be okay.

you can’t flaunt your strength the same, and he’s painfully aware of it. he doesn’t mean to belittle you. in all honesty, he hopes it never comes across as that, but he knows it does. you’re not weak, but why fight when he could save you? why risk it? if anything, he would take a beating for you a hundred times over. he’d give his life.

but there’s something so isolating about his abilities. again, he’s different. unrelatable, retired from any chance at normality. more-so than you. for as long as he lives, he will feel the need to protect. the fight is never over. a “god” is what he gets called the most. it’s usually playful, a joke. but hidden in those words is the reality of constant expectations he is forced to meet. a god.

“i know i can be…” satoru trails off, shifting slightly as he crosses his legs. “suffocating.”

in all honesty, since your last mission, he hadn’t stopped thinking about your words. or the look on your face.

this has to stop.

you had looked crushed. it made his heart sink.

in this world of pure danger and inevitable loss, satoru tries to keep his worries at bay. protecting you is a natural response. a weakness is pointless if it is never reached.

and he hated to admit it. an achilles heel placed directly on gojo satoru, the strongest. it made him sick.

“no, you’re not.” you quietly reply, shaking your head. you’re lying through your teeth, but you find that you really dislike serious satoru. it scares you. perhaps there’s a reason he is rarely like this. it feels as though the walls are caving in, and he’s being pushed closer to you, overwhelming you with his entire being. gojo satoru being serious feels unnatural. it’s uncomfortable. but it’s something new. a side you’ve never seen before, and you secretly thank the world that he lets you witness it.

he sends you a pointed look, a bitter chuckle leaving his lips. “don’t do that.”

you slowly nod, smiling slightly. “sorry.”

the dynamic is like this. you obey him, constantly. you’re one of his worshippers. you don’t realize that satoru ultimately does the same thing with you.

he stares at you with fondness in his eyes.

he loves you. and he thinks he has for a long time now.

but what is a god if they let themselves feel so… mortal? he can act the part. he’s defeated everything he’s touched. he’s feared, and simultaneously adored.

so why can’t he let himself have you so easily?

“i guess i’m just-“

satoru takes in a sharp breath, and your stomach drops as you watch his head bow down, evading your eyes. he doesn’t speak for a while, and you assume he is silently asking to drop the topic.

until his shoulders slump, and you can see them start to tremble.

gojo satoru was not a god.

he was mortal, human. as much as the world seemed to think he wasn’t. he tried to convince himself of the same, but it evidently proved to be useless.

you don’t say a word to him, reaching out and letting him bury his face in your shoulder. you can feel him suppressing his emotions the best he can, hyper-aware of the way you fail to feel him breathe against you.

when you turn to kiss his cheek with a feather-like touch, all composure is lost. you feel a stifled sob escape him.

satoru is mortified at the thought of losing you - losing anybody. he realized it when he finally registered how deeply he cared for you.

would being “the strongest” suffice?

he wish he could see the future.

he knows he’s been wrong. but more importantly, utterly selfish. you never asked to be loved by him. or protected. satoru easily gives into his own desires, ignorant as to how it affects those around him.

if the world saw satoru as a god, then he saw you as the most breathtaking angel.

you were more than worthy of his attention. he put you on a pedestal, out-ranking all he’s done in his life. he could live a thousand lifetimes and still want you just as badly. he wonders if that’s normal - if what he feels for you should be as strong as it is. should he be physically affected? sometimes he senses his heart pounding, the sensation intense enough to make him sick.

but he reminds himself that it’s the best kind of feeling.

how many times has he sat next to you, leaning his entire body on yours as he not-so-discreetly searches for your warmth? your touch. he’ll gladly fill his senses with only thoughts of you.

satoru’s head tilts up from it’s place on your shoulder, and he kisses you messily.

gojo satoru is selfish. and he’ll accept it.

if this lifetime is the only one he is meant to spend with you, then fuck it. fuck it all. he will let himself be greedy.

his hands are in your hair, and he attempts to pour out every little bit of emotion he has in his scrambled brain. he can’t think clearly. all he knows is that you’re kissing him back, and he’s fighting the biggest smile.

it’s heavenly.

you part from him after a while, lips swollen and face flushed.

satoru isn’t much better, his breath staggered and pupils dilated.

he attempts to lean in again, but a gentle hand on his chest stops him. satoru blinks, watching you as you let out a small laugh. you feel relieved. as if the heaviest weight has been lifted off your shoulders, and you are free and liberated.

you’re somewhat in disbelief.

this ethereal being has confessed to you. an emotion that is so incredibly mutual. reciprocated to only the strongest amount. a love so infinite that it nearly drove you mad.

satoru smiles. it intensifies.

your laugh is contagious, and suddenly the two of you are unable to catch your breath, faces pink from hope, joy, and love.

satoru will take this.

he can be vulnerable. he must let you be independent. what is a commitment to confirmed infatuation without trust?

he can let himself be human. what a miserable life it’d be without you.

after all, a “god” will be okay with his angel.

[isla-04]

[isla-04]

| white ferrari

kenma kozume x gn!reader

Summary: high school sweethearts were supposed to reach their paradise together, supposed to love each other to the end of time. But for you and kenma, maybe it wasn’t supposed to be; at least, not in this life. so on one last ride, you finally get to say your goodbyes. 

word count: 2k

it had been five years since graduating from nekoma high. seven years since you met who you believed was your soulmate. but only two years since you realized that you were wrong, that this love had an expiration date on it and the date had been passed a long time ago. yet, something in you couldn’t just let the memories you both collected go. this was supposed to be a forever deal, where had that promise gone?

the tension in the car was thick and a heavy feeling nestled its way into the hearts of both passengers. the anticipation spread through your body like a parasite, eating away at your nerves until you found yourself at the edge of your seat waiting for him to say something. it was almost laughable, the way both kenma and you kept stealing glances and twitching in your seats. it was obvious that he recognized there were problems in your relationship, but he never thought that it would get to this point. never did he once imagine that he would have to be saying his goodbyes to love you both shared. 

“Bad luck to talk on these rides

Mind on the road, your dilated eyes

Watch the clouds float, White ferrari”

the painful silence that encapsulated the couple allowed their minds to wander back to the time when they first laid eyes on each other. kenma being kenma hadn’t uttered a single word to you until two weeks after the first introduction, but that didn’t keep him from constantly pestering kuroo about you. despite the fact that kenma gave off the impression that he would’ve preferred to be left alone, you still took the chance to let out a quiet hello before running back to your friends. he was left standing frozen in his spot while kuroo looked down at him with a sly smirk that kenma wished he would have wiped off, if only he wasn’t so mesmerized by you. from that moment on, even though he still hadn’t talked to you, you noticed that the setter a lot more often around the halls. It was almost as if the universe connected a tether to the both of you and no matter how far you were, sooner or later you would find yourselves in the presence of each other. 

“Had a good time

(Sweet 16, how was I supposed to know anything?)

I let you out at Central”

weeks would go by and all you could ever get out of him was a small glance as you passed by each other, but you took what you could get and made the best of it. kuroo recognized the signs, kenma was truly fascinated by you despite never acknowledging you back when you sent him small smiles and shy waves. so being the excellent wingman he was, which he was most definitely not but did try his hardest, set up a small date for the both of you. all he needed to do was pretend that you were both going out to eat with, when in reality he would simply not show. initially the awkward silence was so unbearable that you had started thinking of excuses that could potentially get out of this situation and with kenma’s sharp glare, you felt almost unwelcomed. but before you got the chance to say anything, kenma stood up from his seat. you followed suit because if he was going to leave then you wanted to beat him to it to save yourself the embarrassment. it took you by surprise when he instead offered to walk around the park with you; figures, he didn’t seem like much of a people person and the cafe had been bustling with people. 

everything after that one date was a blur. you could only remember bits and pieces of your teenage years that you shared with him. hanging out late at night playing games with him in his room, meeting up after practice to grab something to eat, occasional sleepovers, and every so often you guys would hang out with some of the players from other schools. a small pang in your heart brought you ripped you out of your daydream from the past and brought your attention back to the present. it seemed as if kenma’s mind had been elsewhere too.

“I didn’t care to state the plain

Kept my mouth closed 

We’re both so familiar

White Ferrari, good times.”

in reality, the past few days had been going smoothly without any arguments, up until tonight that is. tonight had been the final push past the barrier of whether to stay or to leave. you both had decided to attend a dinner that your family was hosting and during dinner, the topic of marriage had come up. its not that marriage had ever been a primary concern for either of you, but the silence after your mother had asked kenma if he would ever propose almost broke you on the spot. you weren’t upset that he didn’t answer, far from it really because that’s not a question you just spring upon others, but you were upset because you let this relationship get so far when it shouldn't have. you’ve let others believe that you were so in love when truthfully love left a long time ago. you realized it. kenma realized it. damn near your whole family realized it. high school sweethearts were a thing of fiction and they could only walk their path together for so far until they had to separate; unfortunately, both kenma and you had reached that point after seven wonderful years. 

“I care for you still and I will forever

That was my part of the deal, honest

We got so familiar

Spending each day of the year, White Ferrari.”

you would never deny the fact that kenma was and would always be your first true love. never once did you regret meeting him on that special day in nekoma high. everything that the two of you had was real and it was special, not only to you but to kenma as well. despite the hardships that the two of you had faced, your love was not one sided and while he constantly gives off the impression of being cold, kenma loved you to the ends of the earth. he wouldn’t change a thing about you nor your relationship if was ever given the opportunity. you accepted him for him and not once did you try to change a thing about him. your love was the purest form of it known to man. he was continuously surrounded by its warmth and comfort, keeping him safe from the dangers of the outside world. It made him believe that he was invincible, like he could do anything and he would, for you and only you. even after he gained his riches, your love stayed as true as it was the first time and it never faltered; not during the argument, the weeks apart, and even now it was as true as ever. 

“If you think about it it’ll be over in no time

And that’s life.”

even after he remained quiet in front of your entire family, you still loved him. and that was the greatest gift he ever received. but this love was different from the one he felt on the first day he met you, it lacked something that was once there-- something that had previously been there but slowly dissipated over the years. neither of you had verbally stated it, but this would be the end of the road for you love, not that you needed to anyways. the end of the road was miles back and at this point, you were just walking on a dirt road leading to nowhere. the silence spoke for itself: the long nights of tears, yelling, and cold beds were coming to an end. 

“I’m sure we’re taller in another dimension

You say we’re small and not worth the mention.”

there’s no doubt that had you and kenma met at different points in your life, there might have been a small possibility that this relationship would have worked out. Or maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t meant to be forever. perhaps not in this life and possibly not in the next, but in another life, the tears brimming your eyes would not exist. perhaps the body next to you would feel warm, the bed would be filled with two instead of one, and the constant shouting would cease. in that other life, maybe you could have reached the end of the road with kenma’s hand in yours, but this wasn’t another life. this was your reality and one that you’ve finally accepted. 

“You’re tired of movin’, your body’s achin’

We could vacay, there’s places to go

Clearly this isn’t all that there is

Can’t take what’s been given

But we’re doing so okay, we’re doing fine.”

a sense of relief washed over kenma momentarily as he realized that once you were gone, you would no longer have to fight for a love that couldn’t be repaired. No longer did you have to plead for him to not leave or just to talk to you. so in these last moments he had with you, he wanted to make them special. no talking, no arguing, no music or singing, just two lovers accepting their fate together. two lovers recognizing that they weren’t meant for each other anymore and that that was okay. it was finally okay to let go of what had been eating at the two of you and the tension that filled that car, it was gone. the pain and heartbreak had passed, and while you were sure that the grief would hit you later on, you were happy. in this very moment in time, the weight was lifted off your shoulders and chest, allowing you to breathe once more. neither of you knew what was to come after this, but you weren’t scared anymore. grabbing his hand in yours, you lightly squeezed and awaited for the squeeze in return only for it to never come.

“Primal and naked

You dream of walls that hold us imprisoned

It’s a skull, least that’s was they call it

And we’re free to roam.”

the car rolled to a stop in front of your house making you slightly jolt in your seat. part you expected for kenma to completely ignore you as you exited the car, and part of you hoped that he would just say one last thing. one last goodbye before you officially walked out of his life and he drove out of yours. but with the current situation, you couldn’t read him as easily as you normally could. There was no emotion and all of them at the same time displayed on his face. was he going to cry? was he going to ask you to stay? whatever it was that he was going to do, he needed to do it in the next minute otherwise you would be gone forever. 

“ i’ll never stop loving you. to this day, I wish I had said something to you when we first met, but I didn't because I was a coward. I’m not going to make that same mistake now.”

It startled you, truth be told. kenma wasn’t a man of very many words, that was obvious, but what he didn’t say he made up for in his physical expressions. for him to outright admit that he still loved you, it made you dizzy. he didn’t say it for you to decide to stay, but instead he said it for himself. 

“ I know kenma, I know. maybe in another life, yeah? promise me that somewhere in another dimension, you’ll look for me?”

with a simple nod, kenma finally allowed his tears to escape. you stepped out of the car and shut the door behind you. you internally debated whether or not to turn around and look at him one last time, too scared that if you did then you might never leave. but his words made you feel secure enough that if you did turn around, nothing would change. so you turned and connected your eyes with his. 

“ I promise. I’ll always look for you.”

birdy’s notes: please do not repost, rewrite or claim as yours. thank you!

[isla-04]

itachiyama

sakusa kiyoomi

komori motoya

[isla-04]

inarizaki

kita shinsuke

suna rintaro

miya atsumu

the art of falling in love with a dead girl [ m.a x f!reader ]

love conquers all. a foolish boy will believe in anything just to get you to stay, just for one more day. one more second with you is all he wishes for, a second that you may not have.

miya osamu

aran ojiro

[isla-04]

fukurodani

bokuto koutarou

akaashi keiji

konoha akinori

[isla-04]

shiratorizawa

ushijima wakatoshi

tendou satori

semi eita

[isla-04]

aoba johsai

oikawa toru

iwaizumi hajime

matsukawa issei

hanamaki takahiro

kyoutani kentaro

[isla-04]

nekoma

kenma kozume

white ferrari [ k.k x gn!reader ]

high school sweethearts were supposed to reach their paradise together, supposed to love each other to the end of time. But for you and kenma, maybe it wasn’t supposed to be; at least, not in this life. so on one last ride, you finally get to say your goodbyes. 

kuroo tetsuro

godspeed [ k.t x gn!reader ] (coming soon)

blood, sweat, and tears does nothing for lovers who aren’t meant to be. knowing that, there’s nothing more either of you could have done than let each other go. godspeed to you both. 

lev haiba

yaku morisuke

[isla-04]

karasuno

tsukishima kei

kageyama tobio

yamaguchi tadashi

hinata shoyo

headcanons

first time cuddling [coming soon]

the boys’ first time cuddling with a s/o who isn’t big on physical affection.

[isla-04]

| the art of falling in love with a dead girl.

miya atsumu x f!reader | part 2

Summary: love conquers all. a foolish boy will believe in anything just to get you to stay, just for one more day. one more second with you is all he wishes for, a second that you may not have.

word count: 1.5k

warnings: mentions of depressions and suicide

there was only so much time promised for a single person.

some were promised an entire lifetime. some were promised an eternity.

but there were a handful of those of us that were promised much shorter: months, weeks, or even days. sometimes those days weren’t even promised, sometimes our clock would run out much quicker than the time stamp we were given originally. we were forced to watch from the sidelines while others enjoyed their life to the fullest, stretching their days as far as they could. essentially, we’ve become dead men walking. or women, in your case. 

at what point do we decide to accept our fate? at what point do we realize that our time is limited, compared to others who have an entire life to experience all the things we could only dream of doing? truly, there’s no exact point in time, but rather a feeling that we live with until our time is up. it starts off a simple whisper in the back of our head and grows into a fully matured voice that constantly creates conversation in our minds. 

the voice of disappointment, where every little thing you do is no longer good enough for not only yourself but the world around you as well. one of anger, where every wrongdoing that has come your way adds fuel to your fire and eventually burns over your entire body, just waiting to lash out on whoever’s innocent soul is near. a voice of anxiety that feels as if it were crawling through your veins, instilling its poison in your blood to the point where you feel like you can no longer breathe properly. this voice sits in the back of your head, hushed and judgmental, and when you finally acknowledge that its there it will push to the forefront of your mind. dismantling your senses and clouding your vision, this voice becomes another body in your own. a body that has corrupted your soul with its apparent hatred. 

rather than being given both the angel and the devil, the devil sits alone on both shoulders directing your every move. often times, against your will as well. maybe he was the one who stole your time, or maybe it was yourself. maybe you weren’t strong enough to fight off his thoughts, or were they yours? not that it would matter in the end.

once you’ve accepted the fact that there was only a short amount of time assigned to you, you’ve lost the desire to keep living for the rest of that time. there wasn’t much anyways, so why continue? in the end, your efforts would’ve been for nothing if you were no longer going to be here. 

but what others don’t realize is that despite the fact that you’ve accepted your end, life actually seems to become easier. the motivation to get out of bed, shower, clean up, and do normal things returns in that short period of time before you leave. the smile on your face becomes genuine and the laughs you let out, they sound exactly like they did when you were a small child. you become the best you that you’ve ever been because finally, that voice in the back of your head will no longer be there to harm you.

maybe that’s what caused him to fall for you. maybe it was the genuine smile and laughs that you gave him after he told one of his jokes. they were stupid and to others, came off as failed attempts of flirting. but you laughed and you smiled as if he was the greatest comedian of all times. you only ever looked at him with kind and soft eyes, never raised your voice to him, never turned your back. 

if he was excited he would jump circles around you, like a child excited to get ice cream. he would speak at a mile a minute, never pausing to take a breath, but he was too excited to waste a minute on breathing. he needed to tell you about whatever he was excited about, just so he could see your smile and here your voice. that silky voice that made his heart clench every time you spoke. you would be excited right along with him, even if you didn’t quite catch what he said to you in his jumbled sentences that he called english. 

if he was nervous, you would draw spirals on the back of his hands in order to calm him down. “in...out...in...out. do that three more times, okay?” you would say to him before every game, even if he wasn’t nervous. but something about the way you worried for him made him feel safe, like he would always be cared for. like he would always have someone to fall back on.

if he was angry, you would be the first person to ask what was wrong, letting him rant and complain about whatever it was that got him so worked up. you wouldn’t interrupt or try to invalidate how he felt. he could rant for hours or days, and you would be right next to him with open ears. once he’d calm down, you would be right there to help him assess the situation. could he have handled it differently? was he in the right or was he in the wrong? no matter what it was that you suggested, he’d be 100% willing to do it.

but the part of you that he appreciated and would cherish forever, was that you were willing to carry his weight on your shoulders when he couldn’t do it himself. you would be waiting for him with opens arms and he’d collapsed right into them. the first few times you hadn’t properly prepared for him to actually collapse, and you were the poor boy nearly fell onto the concrete sidewalk. as he cried into your chest, you would softly run your hands through his hair and massage his temples; you were no stranger to the headaches that would soon follow after crying this hard. the sweet nothings you would whisper into his ear, affirming that he would be okay and that this would get better, helped him pick himself up again.

you took care of him like a mother took care of her child, but to him, it felt different. he hadn’t been sure before, but when he looked into your bright eyes, he knew; atsumu fell in love with you. he fell in love with your whole being actually, and there was no part of you that he could ever hate. everything about you was perfect to him.

you never judged him or called him out for his pathetic jokes, never shunned him away when he was upset, never ordered him to quiet down when he was too excited or ridiculed him when he got angry; but you didn’t really do much these days. unbeknownst to him, you were one of the few who weren’t promised a lifetime. he had eternity, and you had ‘till the end of the week.

the eyes that he believed held the universe, were the same ones that cried for hours at night in the dark. the same ones that were red and puffy in the mornings after those late night cries. the same ones that needed to constantly hold back their own tears during the day because you felt like the weight of the world would collapse onto you. 

the shoulders that he would cry on were the same ones that slouched whenever you sat down because holding his emotional weight along with your own was beginning to overwhelm you. how were you to help him when you couldn’t even help yourself? the chest atsumu would cry into was the same one that felt empty. it felt like there was a large gaping hole in the middle right where your heart should’ve been. 

but here you were, taking care of him. you did it all on your own account, not because you felt like you owed him anything, but after a while things were not as easy as they used to be. that voice in the back of your head would get louder each year, pushing you further and further into a dark hole. a hole that got deeper over time, one that you never saw an opening to. one that felt infinite, so deep that not even a sliver of light could touch you. the clock that you were assigned at birth was nearing its end and when the big hand hit twelve, a new day would start, one without you.

as much as you cherished your time with atsumu, you knew that it was coming to an end. sooner or later you would have to say goodbye, and not just for the night, but for life. a permanent goodbye that you knew would leave a scar on his heart, but this choice was yours and you made it already. you were ready to leave, ready to go, ready to finally let your conscience rest and ease the aching in your heart. this was it. it was time, so with tears in your eyes you let go.

birdy’s notes: please do not repost, rewrite or claim as yours. thank you!

- this is my first official post and i hope that it was at least decent. i might attempt to make this a tiny series, but i’m not completely sure yet.

[isla-04]

 hq masterlist

karasuno

includes: tsukishima, kageyama, yamaguchi, & hinata. 

nekoma

includes: kenma, kuroo, lev, & yaku.

aoba johsai

includes: oikawa, iwaizumi, matsukawa, hanamaki, & kyoutani.

shiratorizawa

includes: ushijima, tendou, & semi.

fukurodani

includes: bokuto, akaashi, & konoha. 

inarizaki

includes: kita, suna, astumu, osamu, & aran.

itachiyama

includes: sakusa & komori. 

[isla-04]

navigation

rules & dni:

please DO NOT INTERACT if you are in any way or shape: racist, homophobic, misogynistic, xenophobic, or spread hate of any kind! it will NOT be tolerated.

please be 17 OR OLDER. while this blog is currently a sfw page, it will only remain as such for a short period of time [just until I get comfortable with writing nsfw].

masterlist

currently working on: godspeed [ kuroo tetsuro ] + first time cuddling [ karasuno ]

most recent work: white ferrari [ kenma kozume ]

currently:

reading: parasyte vol.3

watching: jojo’s bizarre adventure

thinking about: atsumu’s thighs...

isla -> 20, infp, she/her, taurus