#miya Atsumu | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wickedgamesoyaoya · 2 days

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❧ fireworks masterpost

❧ Summary: Atsumu had given up on the prospect of finding his soulmate years ago. He just wasn’t lucky like his friends, or so he thought. Because after an accidental meeting with a local painter, the volleyball player found himself entranced by someone who wants nothing to do with him.

❧ the soulmate principle: “The Soulmate Principle is the idea of two people being destined for each other at birth. These people are called soulmates. Soulmates will often instantly ‘recognize’ or be drawn to one another, even if they have never met. A soulmate couple are regarded as being ‘perfect’ for each other in every way. Usually, the soulmates provide each other with understanding, healing and strength. Soulmates are connected by a phenomena called the “silver cord,” or soulmate bond, which remains unbroken until death. It can be felt by a shock or a jolt of electricity when bare skin touches bare skin. Soulmates can also share emotions with each other through the bond.”

❧ warnings: verbal abuse, toxic af father, reader is exhibiting signs of mental illness, suicidal thoughts (nothing explicit), suggestions of suicide, mentions of physical illness, attending the hospital, mentions of cancer, mentions of injury.

❧ story format: written.

❧ word count: 3.2k

❧ part: three out of three | read part one here | read part two here |

❧ A/N: holy shit 500000 years later and it’s here! :( Sorry for the wait. also this is kinda dark!!?!?!? so be warned.

It took a single glance in your soulmate’s direction to plant an entire garden inside of your chest. It took a single conversation to turn those seeds into perfect little sprouts. Hope had begun to nestle into your lungs, making it easier to process the air and to breathe. It should have remained that way. Perhaps an intelligent individual would have taken the blessing and returned home. Perhaps they would have decided to call their soulmate rather than knock upon the door leading to a troubled past.

If only you were intelligent, or wise, or anything along those lines. Because it appeared you had forgotten that his words have always been far more lethal than poison. And it is exactly his words that set ablaze the garden of newly sprouted flowers, leaving behind ashes and the same emptiness you were so damn accustomed to.

How strange that the person who was meant to protect you from harm, was the one always inflicting it.

“Father?”

When you first entered the family home, your heart twinged uncomfortably at the memories suddenly attacking your serene mind. Nostalgia for some was a pleasant experience. But for you, being in the place where you grew up was merely exhausting. You should have taken the sensation as a warning sign - to abort mission and to leave before anything else could transpire. Yet, you continued along the hallway leading towards the living room, with your heart beating loudly inside of your ears.

The male sinking into the couch was barely conscious, and accordingly, did not hear your gentle beckoning. When your eyes finally landed on the familiar figure, the little voice in your head reminded you that this was your last opportunity to run... to leave.... to escape. The monster sitting in the heart of the home was not aware of your presence yet - you could easily slip out and pretend this never happened.

But for some masochistic reason, you were compelled to remain. Was it foolishness or bravery? Perhaps a sprinkle of both. Or perhaps it was something even far more sinister - hope. No matter what happened, you always craved your father’s love. You craved the affection that should have been granted to you the second you were born. Before, you had assumed that your father loathed you due to your rotten core. Your soul was merely impure, you had nothing to offer the world other than hardship.

But now... What if the soulmate connection was responsible for your father’s cruelty? What if your mother’s passing had impacted him in a way that could not be explained in a medical sense? What if he was the victim of something far beyond your understanding?

Or maybe, he was simply a man unfit to be a father.

The final thought is one that scares you the most. And yet, you swallow down the clog in your throat and venture two steps closer to the man who was responsible for the scars decorating your body.

“Father? Are you awake?”

Silence greets you instead of your father for the first minute. But then, the man ahead stirred, indicating that you would soon be granted an audience.

“Lila...?”

The mention of your mother’s name paralyzes you for a moment, as you blink widely at your father, awaiting a new form of recognition. A few seconds drag on by as the male drags a palm down his face, in an attempt to sober himself up. His dark eyes are still in a squint when his hand returns to his side, but from the fury flickering to life in his irises, it was clear he now knew who you were.

“No, of course not. She’s fucking dead.”

Unsure how exactly to react, tension was applied to your jaw. Under your father’s scrutiny, your chest constricted, with a familiar pain claiming the surface area.

Why did you come here? Why did you think this time it would be any different? Hope? Someone like you was never allowed to feel that damn emotion.

Hope was a luxury, one that you momentarily forgot you could not afford.

“Why are you here?” The older male doesn’t move when he speaks, instead his gaze continues to bore into you. It’s clear that he is no longer in a drowsy state. Everything that would be stated from now would be his sober thoughts.

“I... wanted to talk. If it’s a bad time, I’ll just -” The words barely come out as a whisper as panic seizes your throat. The air in the home began to decrease, with your lungs reacting in tow.

“Talk? What the hell would we have to talk about?” A humourless laugh rang inside of your father’s chest, drowning out the small noises you were once using to stabilize your breathing.

Where was the grandfather clock again? Maybe if you could find it -

“Are you here to steal the little life I have left? Is that it? You’re here to kill me.” The sound of laughter abruptly ends with the older male leaping to his feet. Rage animated his features as his tongue trailed over his chipped bottom lip. It was as though he was calculating his next set of words - determining what selection would send you completely off the edge.

“What...? No, I -” Liquid began to brew along your waterline, disturbing your vision. Perhaps that was a blessing in disguise, as maintaining eye contact with your father was the equivalent of inserting daggers into your own heart. “I just... Why didn’t you tell me about the soulmate link?”

It was at that moment when you observed your father’s demeanour shift completely. His mouth fell agape yet an unrecognizable emotional sparkled in his eyes. It was an expression you’d expect from a gambler who won the jackpot. Or, an alcoholic who discovered a new bottle of whiskey.

But why in the world did he look like that right now?

“Oh, now I get it. You met someone, huh. Twisted how the heaven above gave someone like you a soulmate.” Lightly, he brushed the pads of his fingers along the stubble decorating his jaw. “You know what you have to do right?” The latter part is accompanied by the raise of an eyebrow.

But none of this is making sense to you. How were you supposed to know what he was referring to when he never discussed this topic?

“What are you talking about?” Inside of your mind chaos ensues as you recall your conversation with your therapist. Was there something you missed? What could it be?

Yet nothing could have prepared you for the answer your father provided.

“You should know. You have to kill yourself.”

The words were packaged with a smirk which smoothly communicated how pleased your father was with himself. And as your eyes expanded in size at the weight of his words, the devil disguised as a father continued to spew his falsehoods.

“So long as you are alive, you will torture that poor soul that is connected to you. So do the right thing for once in your life and kill yourself.”

Apologies begin to spill from your lips on repeat as the oxygen completely leaves your lungs. But it’s too quiet, and your father refuses to be silenced.

“You know what you are, y/n. You’re a disease. You killed your mother, you almost killed me and now you’re going to kill your soulmate.”

Your vision fully blurs, but there are slashes that can be seen. Blood is smeared over your hands, it’s staining the floor.

You’re bleeding. Oh god, you’re bleeding. The wounds of the past have been ripped open, and you’re drenched in the blood of those you have killed.

“She was fine you know. FINE. Until she was pregnant with you. Instead of a blossom of joy, there was you - a cancer - sitting in her stomach. You killed her. You killed her and killed me.”

You were no longer able to withstand the pressure associated with his words. With your knees losing their strength, your body soon collided against the cold floor. The crimson colouring your vision remained with you, though. Even as your fingers grazed the cold tiles below. Everything was stained. You were stained.

“So, will you kill another person, y/n? Will you?”

You knew you wouldn’t.

A heart wrenching pain sliced through Atsumu during the middle of practice, causing the setter to collapse onto the floor. He could vaguely hear his friends call out his name, and the frenzy of sneakers rubbing against the floor. Someone had their hand against his back, but the figure was a blur. Inside of his chest, the thin strings of fate had wrapped around his heart, cutting off the blood flow in the individual arteries.

And although he only had a limited understanding of the soulmate connection, he instantly knew that if he did not find you immediately, the connection would be gone.

You would be gone.

Because despite his strange fragile physical state, he knew that you were feeling something much worse. And all he wanted to do was to comfort you, even though you were not within his grasp.

And as Atsumu fought to remain conscious, his battle against the wreckage in his heart was one that he ultimately lost. And the last thing the blonde could remember was someone mentioning his brother’s name.

Everyone enters this world alone, and they leave this world alone. That is the infamous quote that is often weaponized by religious figures in order to drive fear into the hearts of believers. But the quote fails to account for the time spent on this earth. Was it meant to be so tragically lonely? What is the purpose of life, if you are plagued by loneliness from birth until death?

The question weighed heavily on you as you returned home. And the weight of the question appeared to increase with every passing hour. To be honest, you would have remained stuck in place on the tilted flooring if your father had not forcefully removed you from the home. He had guests to entertain, but you did not stick around long enough to see anyone approach the front door.

Perhaps this was total defeat.

You were done.

At some point, it becomes far too much to bear. The voices inside your head no longer lose their ferocity; instead they gnaw away at soul until there is nothing left. How can you move past it again? How many times will you push through another heartbreak? How much more were you expected to endure?

The following 24 hours are far from bearable. Food was barely digestible. Water was barely consumable. Despite your inner will to transfer the weight from your shoulders and onto the canvas, you could not paint. Instead, you found yourself surrounded by damaged brushes, tattered canvases and a collection of paint. And all you could do was sit in the center of the tornado, hoping that your next breath would be your last.

Because breathing wasn’t worth it, not if it meant hurting him.

But it seemed that the thin string keeping you from collapsing into eternal darkness had its own plans. And it begins with a phone call from an unrecognizable number and the strange urge to answer it.

“Hello?” The phone was wedged between your hand and ear loosely as you waited to see who had sought you out.

“Um, hi. Is this y/n?” The voice was unfamiliar yet it was the tone that had captured your curiosity. Why were they afraid? “This is Osamu Miya. You’re my brother’s soulmate.”

Electing to remain silent, you waited for the male to continue. It seemed that he was eager to say something.

“I’m sorry for being so straight forward but my brother is in the hospital. And the doctors can’t figure out what’s wrong with him. I just.... Can you come? I know I’m asking for a lot. But can you?”

Upon hearing the younger twin’s words, you almost lost control over your phone.

“Atsumu is in the hospital... Where?”

The second that Osamu provides you with the knowledge of how to reach your soulmate, you’re already halfway towards the front door. The thoughts that were plaguing you for the last 24 hours had been overcome with the image of Atsumu. If he was the sun above, then you were the moon, who was nothing without the sun. The moon, which needed the sun to shine at all. The idea of anything happening to Atsumu was unbearable, and it made your inner struggle seem like child's play.

When you arrived at the hospital you recognized the black haired boy from the shop first. Suna approached you instantly; there was also a girl beside him who you did not recognize. He introduced the female as his fiancée, before guiding you to the room Atsumu was assigned. A sympathetic expression was offered to you by the other female, but you were too frazzled to respond to it.

With each passing second the sound of your heartbeat became louder and louder, it was almost deafening.

What would you do if something happened to him?

Was it your fault? What would you do if it was?

“Oh. You must be y/n. Well, he’s awake and being annoying. So go talk with him, please.” Osamu’s voice ripped through your inner torment returning your attention to your surroundings. But it was his close resemblance to his brother that had swayed you for a brief moment.

A weak nod was given in response as you began to process what was just conveyed to you. Atsumu was being annoying? So he was conscious? How could someone like him be considered annoying, though?

The answer to some of your questions was bestowed upon you when you entered the hospital room. Inside, the blonde was sat upright with curiosity animating his features. However, the curiosity was short-lived. Instead, a mixture of emotions had the male seconds from jumping out of his bed. If he had not been connected to an IV, he would have ran straight towards you. So, at most, all he could do was straighten his posture.

“Y/n?! You’re here!? Are you okay?”

It’s the latter half of his question that brews a fresh round of tears. And when guilt brings a sad pout to form on Atsumu’s lips, it was impossible to contain the liquid hanging on your waterline.

“You’re asking if I’m okay when you’re the one in the hospital?”

How could you possibly deserve him?

“Ah, y/n. C’mere first.” Lifting the hand with the IV tube attached, he motioned you forward before patting the empty spot on his bed. “This is just a formality, they’re keeping me because they don’t know what’s goin’ on. But I know something has been goin’ on with you, right?”

Even though the monstrous voice inside of your head warns you of getting closer to the setter, your feet carry you closer to your soulmate without hesitation. The warmth and consideration emanating from the male had your mind and body out of sync.

“You could sense it?” The words were whispered out as you accepted the seat beside him. And now that you were both in close proximity again, you were unable to bring yourself to catch his gaze. Instead, you focused on playing with your fingers.

“That’s how the bond works, y/n. Whatever you feel, I feel.” Despite your efforts to avoid his gaze, the blonde titled his head, aiming to capture it. “I won’t pry into what happened, okay? But I realized that I can’t just leave you alone to suffer. I need you to know that you’re not alone.”

When his attempts became futile, in a daring gesture he put his own calloused hands on top of yours. A light blush colour flooded your cheeks, but you made no effort to remove his hands. This time, the soulmate connection did not burn or tingle in a painful manner.

All you could feel was love.

“I’m not good for you... You’d be better off if I was gone...” The acidic liquid continued to travel down your cheeks as you bowed your head down, seeking to cover your disheveled state.

“No, that’s where you’re wrong. I don’t think I can live in a world that you’re not part of.” Seeing as you did not deny his physical forms of affection, Atsumu elected to take it one step further. Gingerly, he reached out to brush away your tears with his index finger. “I don’t know what happened to you, and it doesn’t matter. Because I’ll show you that life is worth it.”

When Atsumu began disposing your tears, the flow only increased mercilessly. Soon, his hand was cradling your face, and it was impossible to not lean into his touch. He was just so warm, so so warm.

“I just want you to be happy.” The words that were choked out between a sob held such sincerity that Atsumu himself had to battle off his own tears.

“Yah? So if I ask for something selfish, will you agree to it? I promise it’ll make me happy.” For the first time since you had entered the room, he finally secured eye contact with you. Inside of his chest, his heart throbbed at how beautiful you were. How did he get so lucky?

“Anything. I’ll do anything.”

“Stay with me. Don’t ever leave my side. You do that for me, I promise you I’ll be happy for the rest of my life.”

Silence overtook the space around you for a minute. Though the two of you refused to break off any of the physical contact your bodies shared. And through the soulmate bond, the setter sought to silently communicate how much he wanted this. How much he wanted you.

“Atsumu...” Completely overwhelmed by a storm of emotions, all you could do was breath out his name. So much had happened in a small period of time - what was the right choice? Honestly, you did not know.

“And I think I can make you happy too. Even if that sounds a bit cocky. I just, really think I can do it.” The blonde packaged his words with a reassuring smile, one that aided you in making your decision. Although, you still had to ask...

“What if you regret this?”

“I won’t. Not now. Not ever.” The answer comes without missing a beat, he was prompt in shutting down any of your outstanding concerns. He could see that the barriers you had built were slowly crumbling. And it only takes another 42 seconds before you provided him with the confirmation he was desperate for.

“Okay. I’ll do it.”

The words had barely left your mouth when Atsumu enveloped you into his embrace. The same hand that was caressing your cheek was now smoothing your hair as he clutched you closely. It was a form of affection you had never received. Yet all you could hope was to remain in his grasp forever.

“I’ll be honest, y/n. Even if you regret this decision, I won’t back off without a fight. I’ll be the most annoying cockroach you’ve ever seen.”

Not quite understanding his warning, you blinked in short intervals, earning you a heartfelt laugh from the setter. The level of adoration he held for you was bottomless, and you could see yourself happily drowning in it.

The most important thing was, Atsumu didn’t want you to die for him. He wanted you to live for him.

And that made all the difference.

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