vashyuu

[vashyuu]

Its so hard to be forced to stay up kind late to the point where u dont feel sleepy anymore and all the awful just comes flooding in

[vashyuu]

I beg you like the beggiest begger in all of beggingdom to bless us with necromancer!rin 😭🙏🏻

“𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩”

a/n: HELP I KNOW REQS ARE CLOSED BUT I LITERALLY SET MYSELF UP FOR THIS ONE BECAUSE I WAS THE ONE WHO TALKED ABOUT NECROMANCER! RIN IN THE FIRST PLACE 

so take this quick drabble loves, this was long-awaited

you meet necromancer! rin on a tuesday. the clouds hang heavy like grief and the cemetery smells like crushed leaves and fresh rot. you were just passing by honestly. you didn’t mean to trip over a jawbone. 

"that’s mine," he says, when you scream and nearly punt it like a soccer ball. his voice is flat. cold. he looks at you like you're the one who rose from the ground and not the half-assembled skeleton curled at his feet. 

you blink. "you lost your jaw?" 

"no. it belongs to him." he gestures to the pile of bones like it’s a pet dog he’s reassembling from memory. “he’s being difficult.” 

you should’ve run. but you don’t. because something about him makes you pause. maybe it's the dead-frog color of his eyes, or the way the wind doesn't move his cloak, or maybe it's the faint shimmer of moonlight on the ring of bone dust circling his boots. 

“… you’re not gonna sacrifice me, are you?” you ask, half-joking. 

“do you want to be?” he shoots back, not looking up. he’s holding a skull like a grapefruit, thumb pressed thoughtfully to its temple. 

you decide right then that he’s either dangerous or lonely. or both. 

and you’ve always had a soft spot for things like that. 

he tells you his name is rin. you learn later that he only tells his name to the dead. 

“why me, then?” you ask one night, legs hanging over a tombstone as he draws sigils in the dirt. 

he doesn’t answer. but a skeleton near your foot twitches and flips you off. 

you’ve been coming back every night for weeks now. you bring snacks. he doesn’t eat, but he likes holding the wrappers. “colors are interesting,” he murmurs one time, rolling a candy bar package between his fingers like he’s never seen foil before. 

sometimes he shows you things, like a crow he taught to say "leave" in three different languages, or a skull that laughs when you tickle its chin. other times, he just sits beside you, arms folded, quiet. bones shift in the dark. you think one of them is starting to like you. 

and then there are nights where he’s cold, sharp-tongued, distant. 

“you shouldn’t come here.” 

“but i want to.” 

“people don’t want the things i have. they want what they’ve lost.” 

you look at him then, and for a moment, he looks young – not powerful, not dangerous, not the boy who pulls spirits from soil and threads soul to corpse with a flick of his wrist. 

just lonely. 

“i’m not here for what i’ve lost,” you say. “i’m here for you.” 

rin doesn’t respond. but his hand brushes yours. 

just once. 

just enough. 

you fall in love the day he lets you touch the stitches on his arm – black thread, curved like constellations. “protection,” he mutters, cheeks flushed. “it keeps things in. or out.” 

“what am i?” you whisper, tracing a line down his wrist. “in or out?” 

he stares at you like he’s reading your soul backwards. like he’s trying to decide if you’re something he’s allowed to want. 

“i haven’t figured it out yet,” he breathes. 

but when he kisses you that night – slow, unsure, tasting like dust and something old and aching – you know you’ve already crossed the line. 

a month later, you find a skeleton waiting on your porch. it’s holding flowers. 

“he sent me,” it rasps, bones rattling. “he’s not good at this.” 

you smile. 

“i know.” 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[vashyuu]

Please consider supporting or sharing

My current opinions right now are

Be deported back to my homeland where I haven’t finished my education so I can’t find a job to provide for myself

Or

Move in with my family who treat me more of a pet than a person

The comms will be on sale until my situation improve

https://vgen.co/Dollotomy

[vashyuu]

LEONA X READER

Where you start to ask him to use his UM for you

Where Leona, always insecure and determined about the patheticness of his UM, begins to change after meeting you, an artist who creates glass and crystal figures, and asks him to use his UM to transform glass remains into sand

loved this one <3

Leona hated his Unique Magic. Always had.

Sure, people said it was impressive. The ability to dry anything, to strip it down until it crumbled to dust in your palm? Sounded like the kind of magic suited for a king. Ruinous. Untouchable.

But in practice? It was destructive. Useless. Unoriginal. All it ever did was reduce things into sand. Turn lush greenery into withered husks. Sap water from soil, drain warmth from food, crack even the air with its dryness.

He’d never found a good reason to use it unless he wanted something to disappear.

And Leona Kingscholar didn’t like being reminded that he was good at getting rid of things.

So when you first approached him about it, out of the blue and way too bold for someone who barely knew him, he looked up from the grass in the greenhouse with a deep, annoyed grunt.

“You want me to what, herbivore?”

You stood over him in that stupid art-stained apron you always wore, holding a cracked chunk of smoky, burnt glass in your gloved hands.

“I’m not asking you to blow anything up, geez,” you said lightly. “I just… need some sand.”

He squinted at you, ears twitching slightly. “What, the beach too far for you?”

You smiled. “Yeah, and your sand is better.”

He blinked. “Come again?”

“The sand you make. From your UM.”

You lifted the shard to show him its jagged edge.

“See, this one’s ruined. The shape’s off, and it’s scorched. But if I grind it down, melt it again, I could maybe salvage it. But if you could just—turn it back into sand, I could get a cleaner rebatch.”

Leona sat up slowly.

“You want me to use my Unique Magic… on your garbage?”

You didn’t flinch at the edge in his tone.

“I want to try turning it into something new.”

Leona almost told you to piss off. Almost.

But you looked at that broken glass with such purpose in your eyes, like you believed something beautiful was still hiding in it.

And for some reason—maybe the sun was too hot, or he was too tired—he flicked his hand lazily and muttered under his breath.

King’s Roar.

The shard crumbled instantly, dissolving into a fine, pale gold powder. Clean. Almost sparkling in the sunlight.

You crouched to scoop it into a container with a small, satisfied hum.

“That’s perfect,” you said, like you’d just watched a flower bloom.

He raised a brow. “It’s just sand.”

“No, it’s potential.”

Something shifted in his chest at that. Uncomfortable. Hot.

You came back the next day. And the day after that.

Always with cracked glass or ruined sculptures.

Always asking, softly but with certainty, “Can I borrow your magic again?” And Leona always acted annoyed, always rolled his eyes like he was being inconvenienced, but he never said no.

And eventually, you started bringing things back to show him.

Bowls blown in spirals of color, where specks of sand were like desert stars.

Sculptures that caught sunlight just right, making tiny rainbows on the greenhouse walls.

Or delicate little trinkets—a lion’s paw, a flower blooming in a dish—that you swore were just “practice,” but he caught you smiling when he lingered on them too long.

“Couldn’t’ve done this without you,” you said once, holding a jar filled with a swirling, amber-hued hourglass.

“Your sand’s smoother than anything I could get from crushing it myself. It melts cleaner. Glows brighter.”

Leona grunted. “You’re the one doing all the work. I’m just breaking things.”

“You’re not breaking anything,” you said. “You’re giving me a chance to start over.”

He didn’t know what to say to that.

Because no one had ever said that before. Not to him.

Weeks passed like that. And slowly, Leona started to wait for you. Subtly. Not that he’d admit it.

He’d lie on the grass and tilt one ear toward the greenhouse entrance, pretending to nap while secretly hoping for your footsteps.

He found himself pocketing little broken pebbles on walks, wondering if you could use them. Once, he even caught himself thinking about what kind of glass he would be, if you ever sculpted him.

(Probably dark. Sharp. A piece that refused to be molded.)

One afternoon, you showed up carrying a bundle in cloth.

“This one’s for you,” you said, unwrapping it.

“I made it from the first batch of sand you gave me.”

It was a glass lion—small enough to fit in his palm, all sweeping mane and proud curve. Not flashy, but warm, like the sun on stone.

Leona stared. His mouth went dry.

“…Why?”

You tilted your head.

“Because I wanted to. Because I thought you deserved something that stayed, instead of just slipping through your fingers.”

That—hit something. Deep and buried. Something fragile.

He closed his hand around the glass lion slowly.

“…You’re weird, you know that?”

You smiled. “You’ve mentioned it.”

But when you turned to leave, he spoke again, quietly.

“Hey… next time you’ve got something to ruin, come find me.”

You paused, a little smile blooming on your face. “Yeah?”

He shrugged, looking away. “Might as well make some use outta this busted magic, huh?”

Your voice was soft. “It’s not busted, Leona. It just needed the right hands to show what it could become.”

His tail flicked.

For the first time in years, Leona Kingscholar didn’t think of his magic as something to be ashamed of.

He thought of sand in your hands. And glass glowing gold.

And he felt—maybe—for once—

Useful.

[vashyuu]

You summoned me with that reblog 😈

Hi :3

Reply then

Also did u unfollow me??

[vashyuu]

Teehee

Yall wont respond but imma tag you anyways @ivoryghostyy @desirabletravel :33

Consider yourself tagged if you are reading this:

Make this picrew of yourself

Take this uquiz (How Fandom Would See You If You Were A Fictional Character)

Thank you for the tag @machiavellli !

[vashyuu]

🦈 First time drawing the scrimbly scrimblo

[vashyuu]

and that's how you get the girl

years after drifting apart, yuu nishinoya reaches out to you in the quiet hours of the night—not for volleyball advice, but for help on how to win the heart of the girl he’s loved since high school. unsure how to confess, he asks you to teach him the small, genuine ways to show he cares. through your guidance on patience, thoughtful gestures, and staying present, the distance between you begins to fade—revealing a deeper connection neither of you expected.

starring. nishinoya yuu x fem!reader ft. msby black jackals and fukurodani volleyball team

genre: fluff, romance, just wholesome!, timeskip!nishinoya, friends to lovers, noya is whipped for reader since high school

wc: 2.3k

tokyo rain had a rhythm of its own.

the soft patter of raindrops against the pavement echoed through the empty streets, a quiet melody that filled the evening air. you stood just outside your apartment building, a single umbrella raised above your head. your fingers curled tightly around the handle, partly from the cold, partly from the anticipation blooming in your chest.

you were waiting.

the city lights reflected off the slick pavement, painting the street in swirls of gold and red. then, through the misty curtain of rain, a familiar silhouette came into view.

there he was—yuu nishinoya.

no umbrella. flip-flops slapping loudly against the wet sidewalk. a mop of wet hair sticking to his forehead. his grin, wide and familiar, split across his face the moment he spotted you.

“you just got back to japan, and now you’re trying to catch a cold?” you called out, raising an eyebrow as he ran up to you.

he only laughed, ducking under your umbrella, his shoulder brushing against yours. “a little cold’s nothing. i’ve been through worse. besides, i missed the tokyo rain.”

you rolled your eyes, but you didn’t move away. “still reckless, huh?”

he just gave you that sheepish smile—half boyish, half nostalgic—and you turned, guiding him through the building’s entrance.

the two of you had a history—a connection that stretched back years, tangled with memories both simple and significant.

back in high school, you were classmates. you remembered that first day clearly: yuu practically lunged across the classroom to your desk, eyes wide and pleading like a kid begging for a second chance.

“please tutor me,” he’d said breathlessly, “midterms are coming, and if i fail, coach says i can't go to training camp in tokyo.”

you sighed, initially reluctant. you weren’t sure why he’d singled you out—after all, you were just an average student yourself. but something in his earnestness, his raw determination, made you say yes.

that agreement led to late-night study sessions, the kind where the harsh glare of your desk lamp was the only light in the room, and the silence between you was filled with shared whispers and scribbled notes.

after practice, you’d sometimes grab ramen at the little shop near school. yuu’s laughter was loud and free, a sound that made the cramped little space feel like home. he had this way of making even the most stressful days feel lighter, his energy contagious, his sincerity undeniable.

slowly, something more than friendship grew between you. it wasn’t flashy or dramatic—it was the quiet moments, the way he remembered the smallest details you mentioned, the way he stayed up late just to make sure you understood that difficult math problem.

but then, graduation came.

you had boxes stacked in your room, a new lease signed in tokyo, and dreams packed neatly alongside your textbooks. your path was clear—university, studies, a future mapped out in sharp focus.

yuu’s path was different. he packed only a single backpack, booked a one-way ticket out of japan, and vanished into the unknown. no fixed plans, no guarantees—just a restless heart and a fierce hunger to explore the world beyond the island.

you didn’t exactly lose touch, though. not at first. you texted, exchanged quick calls when schedules allowed, each conversation a thread trying to keep you connected. but time zones stretched the hours apart, and life’s relentless pace made “later” stretch into weeks, then months.

still, yuu tried. he always tried.

messages would come from far-flung places, each one a tiny glimpse into his restless journey:

"caught a giant tuna in the mediterranean! wish you saw it!" "went scuba diving in the philippines—found this coral that looked like a heart, swear to god."

each text was accompanied by a photo, a moment frozen in time and space—sunlight glinting off turquoise waves, a weathered smile beneath a foreign sky.

every time you read those messages, your chest tightened—not from longing, exactly, but from something else. something deeper, more complicated. a whisper of feelings you weren’t quite ready to admit to yourself.

until one night changed everything.

it was 3:17 a.m., the kind of hour where the world felt suspended between exhaustion and anticipation. you sat hunched over your desk, surrounded by scattered notes and textbooks, the familiar bitter scent of cold coffee lingering in the air. your eyes stung from staring too long at the screen, and your highlighter was nearly out of ink, but the exam tomorrow loomed too large to ignore.

then, your phone buzzed.

the screen glowed softly in the dim room, flashing a name you hadn’t seen pop up in weeks.

yuu nishinoya.

you blinked, momentarily disoriented. what time was it where he was? you weren’t even sure anymore—last you heard, he was halfway across the world chasing who-knows-what adventures. still, something inside made you answer.

“hello?” your voice was hoarse, pulled from the depths of sleepless nights.

“did i wake you?” his voice, slightly crackly from distance, carried a warmth that made your chest tighten.

“no,” you said, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “i haven’t slept yet.”

“what?!” his voice cracked into a near shout, a mix of disbelief and concern. “it’s past midnight over there! don’t you have class tomorrow?”

you hesitated. the lie came easily. “they rescheduled it.”

you could almost hear him groan, the dramatic flair you’d always known in his tone. “unbelievable. you’re going to burn yourself out, you know that?”

despite yourself, a small smile tugged at your lips. his concern was genuine, even if wrapped in that familiar teasing.

“so, what’s up?” you asked, stretching your stiff fingers. “you called me at 3 a.m. for a reason, right?”

“…yeah,” he admitted after a pause, his voice dropping low, almost reluctant. “it’s kind of stupid though.”

you laughed softly. “yuu. you didn’t call me at 3 a.m. just to say something stupid.”

there was silence, filled only by your slow breathing and the distant hum of city life outside. then, a soft sigh came through the line.

“okay. i need advice.”

you sat straighter, the sudden seriousness catching you off guard. “advice?”

“about… a girl.”

the words felt heavy, like stones sinking into still water. your heart skipped, a strange flutter catching you by surprise.

“oh.”

“she’s someone i’ve liked for a long time,” he continued quietly, voice barely above a whisper. “since high school, actually. but i never said anything. i thought i would… eventually. and now i don’t know if i waited too long.”

your fingers tightened around the pen, the familiar ache settling low in your chest.

“that’s… a long time to keep something to yourself.”

“yeah.” he breathed out the word, vulnerability threading through it. “you always give good advice. i figured i’d ask.”

you swallowed hard, forcing a calm into your voice. “okay. here’s what i’d tell you.”

you laid out your three pieces of advice carefully, hoping they’d reach him across the miles:

“show her you remember the little things. girls like that.”

“give her something she can hold onto. something that reminds her of you, even when you’re far away.”

“and be consistent. call her. text her. don’t disappear.”

as you spoke, the soft scratch of pencil on paper reached your ears, a sound so mundane but so intimate—him writing down every word as if it was the most important lesson he’d ever learned.

“you’re seriously writing this down?” you teased gently.

“of course i am! i’m not messing this up,” he said, voice laced with determination.

when the call ended, silence wrapped around you again, but sleep didn’t come. your mind churned with thoughts that had nothing to do with exams or deadlines.

you found yourself hoping—foolishly, maybe—that you were the girl he meant.

he came back a year later.

the moment he stepped into your apartment, you barely recognized him. he had grown—taller, his frame broader and more defined. the sun had kissed his skin, leaving him with a warm, golden tan that contrasted sharply with the pale yuu you remembered from high school. yet, despite all the changes, his smile remained the same—bright, genuine, and just a little mischievous.

“i brought you something,” he said, reaching into a worn paper bag. his fingers brushed against yours as he handed it over, a small, familiar spark passing between you.

you looked inside: a bag of coffee beans, the rich aroma already spilling out and filling the room. “colombian,” he added, as if reading your mind. “you always said it was your favorite.”

your heart skipped. the scent—the thoughtfulness—hit deeper than you expected.

show her you remember the little things.

he didn’t need to say more. his grin widened as you carefully lifted the bag, inhaling the warm, earthy smell that felt like a piece of him brought home.

from that day on, whenever yuu left japan, it became a small ritual. without fail, he would send you something—a tangible reminder that even when he was halfway across the globe, a part of him was always thinking of you.

a delicate silver necklace from a bustling market in thailand, its pendant catching the light just like his smile did. a leather-bound journal from the cobblestone streets of morocco, its pages empty yet brimming with the promise of new stories. a small, playful keychain shaped like a dolphin from cebu, its blue sheen a splash of the ocean’s endless horizon.

each gift came with a simple message:

“saw this and thought of you.” “this would look good on your desk.”

and each time, your chest tightened with a mix of warmth and confusion.

give her something she can hold onto.

you told yourself it was nothing more than friendly gestures. after all, friends gave each other souvenirs. maybe yuu did the same for tanaka and asahi, too—sharing bits of the world with those close to him.

but what you didn’t know then was this—while yuu did bring the others souvenirs, it was rare. once or twice, at most. but for you?

every. single. country.

there was something different in those gifts, a silent message wrapped in every trinket, every thoughtful token, a steady heartbeat saying, i’m here. i’m thinking of you.

and slowly, without you realizing it, those small pieces of the world began to stitch together a story neither of you was quite ready to tell.

now he was here again.

cross-legged on your living room floor, his phone glowing faintly in his hands, yuu’s eyes flicked back and forth between the screen and the room around him. the soft hum of the city outside filtered through the slightly cracked window, mixing with the quiet sounds of you moving around the kitchen. the scent of something warm cooking — simple snacks you’d prepared for the two of you — drifted in, comforting and familiar.

your new apartment felt different. bigger. brighter. closer to campus. you had fought for it after months of ignoring your old landlord’s dismissals, and now it was a place you were proud to call home.

“you told tanaka and asahi you’re back?” you asked over your shoulder, pausing by the counter as you wiped your hands on a dish towel.

yuu looked up, a mischievous grin pulling at his lips. “not yet.”

you raised an eyebrow. “they’re gonna kill you.”

he shrugged, eyes twinkling with that familiar reckless spirit. “let ’em. i always want to visit you first.”

you stopped mid-step, heart suddenly stuttering in your chest. the air felt charged, as if the room itself was holding its breath.

“because i’m the closest?” you ventured, voice barely above a whisper.

“no.” his gaze met yours, steady and sure. “because i want to.”

the weight of those words settled deep in your chest, warmth spreading slowly like sunlight after a long winter.

you set the snacks on the low table, your fingers trembling just slightly, and slid down beside him on the floor. the space between you felt smaller, charged with something unspoken yet undeniable.

“so… how’s the girl?” you asked, forcing a lightness into your tone.

yuu laughed softly, the sound low and a little nervous. he rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding your eyes for a moment. “honestly? i think it’s going pretty well.”

you smiled, though your throat tightened. “that’s good.”

“yeah.” he finally met your gaze, his eyes softer now, vulnerable. “she’s… special. keeps everything i’ve ever given her. even the silly keychains.”

your glance shifted to the shelf beside the tv — a quiet gallery of memories. trinkets from every place he’d been, gifts wrapped in unspoken promises. each one was a little fragment of his journey, but also a thread connecting back to you.

and then yuu turned to you, his expression shifting from playful to earnest.

“hey… did i pass the test?”

you blinked, heart skipping again. “what?”

“the advice. did i do it right? the little things, the gifts, the calls?”

your breath caught, eyes searching his. the question hung between you, fragile and hopeful.

“yuu—” you began, but he gently cut you off with a smile that held a quiet confession.

“that call i made back then… i lied.”

your heart thudded painfully in your chest, breath hitching in your throat.

“it was always you,” he said simply, the words soft but resolute.

slowly, he leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. his fingers traced the delicate line of your cheek, warm and steady, grounding you in the moment.

you swallowed hard, voice trembling but steady as you whispered, “you could’ve had me since high school.”

his eyes widened just a little, like he’d never dared to hope you felt the same.

“i took everything you said to heart,” he murmured. “i remembered the little things. i brought you the world, one piece at a time. i never stopped calling.”

your lips parted, words caught somewhere between fear and longing, but nothing came out.

“did i get the girl?” he whispered, voice trembling with vulnerability.

you nodded, a single, slow motion that felt like the whole world tilting on its axis.

“you’ve always had her,” you breathed back, the truth settling between you like a promise.

and then, finally, he kissed you — gentle, sure, and full of everything that had been waiting beneath the surface all along.

[vashyuu]

“I’ll learn whatever I couldn’t do before”

I think Rafs hunger to learn for/abt mc is one of his hottest traits ngl

[vashyuu]

Another year goes by

[vashyuu]

rin itoshi who secretly really really loves you (..◜ᴗ◝..)

he tries to put on a very stern, closed off persona, like he hates everything. and everyone, including you, are just half baked losers- but that’s actually far from it. you see, rin actually.. really loves you. despite how distant he could be at sometimes, he made sure you knew how loved you were by him at the end of the day.

even if that meant just sending you messages while he was away like, ‘i love you sososo much. going to sleep. goodnight my lovely’ yep, he uses those types of nicknames 100%.

he would do your laundry when you were on your period or having a bad day- give you a soothing massage if you were sore.. of course you reciprocated, by offering him a massage back, or even making him a well cooked meal for being such a good boyfriend to you. he even put up with your mood swings!

you saw the side of him nobody else ever got to see, the affectionate side. the side that he can crack a smile on and laugh.

he notices everything about you, from the way you touch your hair when you’re bored to the way your eyes widened when you talked about something you liked, even the quirks you had that he thought were stupid. (he loved them actually.)

he’s so beyond grateful for you. you realized this when after a game, he walked right up to you and just buried his head in your shoulder, “thank you for coming..” he whispers in your ear, he was still warming up to the idea of pda in public, but no doubt he liked it.

“..you feel loved by me right..?” he asks you, getting a bit vulnerable in this moment as he felt your hand softly caress his scalp. “of course i do,” you respond, smiling at his behavior.

“good.. i was just.. making sure you know that.” and just like that, he’s back to being mister “cool guy”

“let’s go- c’mon,” he grabs your hand and almost drags you with him— but you knew at the end of the day he did really like you. even if he would ignore you at times when re watching a match he played in— he still made up for it by coming up to you and pressing a kiss to your cheek and mumbling, “sorry.. i was watching one of my games.”

he’s definitely gotten better at communication.

© kenqo - do not plagiarize / translate my work

requests are open!!! request anything plz

i genuinely love fluff sm

this was also rushed sorry guys

[vashyuu]

i’ve been wanting to request so bad but i have 12 hours of school a day🙁. finally got the chance bc of a saturday so i want to request a rin x reader.

basically rin and reader are married. rin gets in an accident and looses his memories of his time with reader. when his parents tell him he’s married he FREAKS OUTT. he says he wants to divorce but gets interrupted when reader arrives and he falls in love with her at first sight (again) and he acts super flustered when his parents tell she’s his wife.

“𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭”

a/n: I LOVEEE THIS TROPE/PLOT SO MUCH

i apologize if rin seems ooc, but like... it's YOU he's flustered over and allat

rin didn’t know what hurt more – the pounding headache, or the way his chest constricted every time someone asked, “do you remember?” 

he didn’t. 

he remembered his name. he remembered his parents. he remembered how many goals he scored last season. but everything else, the flashes of something soft, of someone laughing at his side, the smell of strawberries on his hoodie, it was like chasing smoke. 

“you’re married, rin,” his mother said gently, her fingers clutching the sleeve of her coat. “you’ve been married for a little over a year.” 

“what?” he shot upright, ignoring the way his IV tugged slightly. “married?! no. no way. absolutely not.” 

his father sighed like he saw this coming. 

“don’t joke like that,” rin muttered, visibly uncomfortable. “why the hell would i be married? who did you even let me marry?” 

“someone who loves you,” his mother snapped, glaring now. “and someone you loved enough to propose to with a ring you hid in your sock for three days.” 

rin looked like someone just told him he’d willingly eaten a tomato. “nope. nope. i want a divorce.” 

“you can’t just say that–” his father started. 

“watch me.” 

he flung off the blanket dramatically, then winced because he forgot about his leg cast. “whoever she is, she’s probably sweet and soft-spoken and wears those cutesy earrings that make me want to die. i probably write her poems or some shit. gosh, am i down bad? tell me i’m not down bad.” 

“you’re down bad,” his mother said flatly. 

“i’m gonna be sick.” 

“you have a type,” his father added unhelpfully. 

“what kind of type?” 

“she teases you. calls you rinnie. makes you eat vegetables.” 

“stop talking.” 

and just as he was about to spiral deeper into his identity crisis, the door opened. 

rin’s mouth parted. 

you stepped in with a grocery bag in your hands, looking a little rushed, a little worried, and a lot like you belonged right there, beside him. your hair was slightly messy, your shirt too big, and there was a band-aid on your thumb from what looked like a kitchen mishap. 

but to rin, you were beautiful. 

you were the kind of beautiful that made his ears go red, his brain short-circuit, and his hand instinctively reach up to fix his hair. 

“hey,” you breathed, smiling so gently it made something ache in him. “how’re you feeling?” 

“uh.” 

oh no. 

“you okay?” 

“you’re…” he swallowed, face rapidly turning pink. “hi.” 

you blinked. “hi?” 

“who–” he cleared his throat, avoiding his parents’ curious eyes. “who are you?” 

you froze for a second. his mother stepped in, “this is your wife, rin.” 

he promptly choked on air. “wife?!” 

you blinked again. “... do you not remember me?” 

“no, no, i don’t, but like– wait, you’re my wife?” he stared at your hand, then his own, like a wedding ring might appear and smite him. 

“yes,” his mother said, watching him with poorly hidden amusement. “and you were just asking to divorce her five minutes ago.” 

“i– WHAT– NO, I–” 

he turned to you, mortified. “i didn’t mean that! i didn’t know you were– i thought you were gonna be– i mean, you are– but not in a bad way–” 

you raised a brow. “what did you think i’d be like?” 

he immediately shut up. you looked at him for a long moment. then walked over and sat beside his bed, folding your arms. 

“so. you want to divorce me?” 

“no!” he said a bit too fast. “gosh, no. i mean– i don’t know you, technically. but also i feel like i do? like i saw you and my heart went boom and now i’m sweating and i don’t know what i’m saying anymore.” 

his face was burning. he looked like a kicked puppy. “please don’t hate me.” 

you tried to bite back your grin. “i could never hate you, rinnie.” 

he groaned and flopped back into the pillows. “oh my gosh, you do call me that. i’m doomed.” 

you leaned over and tucked a piece of hair out of his face. his eyes widened like he couldn’t believe you were allowed to touch him like that. 

“so…” you whispered. “you fell in love with me again?” 

“don’t say it like that,” he mumbled, cheeks flushed. “you make it sound like i’m in a romance drama.” 

“but you are, love.” 

he blinked. “you called me love.” 

“you like when i call you love.” 

his ears went red. 

“you’re evil,” he muttered, covering his face with his hands. “you’re my type exactly and i hate it.” 

you giggled, brushing your fingers against his knuckles. “i’ll reintroduce myself properly, if you’d like.” 

he peeked at you through his fingers. “yeah,” he said quietly. “please do.” 

so you did. 

and two weeks later, when rin still hadn’t remembered anything. but was suddenly insisting you share his bed because “you always used to sleep here, right?”, his mother just smiled knowingly. 

“what?” rin snapped. 

“nothing,” she hummed. “just watching you fall in love with your wife all over again.” 

“shut up.” 

“he totally is,” you whispered, smug. 

“you shut up, too.” 

“you’re blushing again.” 

“divorce,” he hissed, hiding his face in your shoulder. 

but he held your hand tighter, like he never wanted to let go. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[vashyuu]

Almost Died… but Still Flirting #soshiro hoshina x reader. ⤷ @drratiosgaybathtub OMG YOU DID THE LAST ONE JUSTICE!! It was so good omg if you have time or want another idea I have another… :3 so Hoshina x defense force officer y/n BUT except they are really flexible but a hard hitter on the battle field and Hoshina finds out by seeing them train one night 🙏

A powerful blast tore through the air like a thunderclap.

The Kaiju that had been terrorizing the city didn’t even have time to react. One second it was roaring, towering over the shattered skyline—and the next, it was split clean down the middle. Its massive body crashed to the ground in two smoldering halves, the earth trembling beneath the weight of its fall.

“Kaiju has been eliminated,” came your voice through Soshiro’s earpiece—steady, clear, and completely unshaken.

But he had already seen it for himself. How you stood tall atop a nearby building, the wind whipping at you. Your arms were still extended forward, gauntlets glowing faintly from the energy discharge, smoke hissing from the vents. The ground where you stood was cracked from the recoil.

That hit—it wasn’t just powerful. It was brutal, precise, and final. The kind of strike that left no room for retaliation.

Soshiro didn’t say anything, but in the silence of his thoughts, he acknowledged it: you didn’t just eliminate the Kaiju. You ended it.

“Alright, let’s wrap it up,” Captain Mina’s voice broke the moment, clear through the earpiece. “Great work, team.”

This mission had been a joint operation between the 3rd and 5th Divisions. “Let’s meet at the base,” the 5th Division’s captain added, already giving further orders.

After coordinating with the remaining Defense Force officers on how to recover and quarantine the Kaiju’s remains, Soshiro made his way to the temporary base—a converted mobile command center in the mall’s parking lot.

As he entered, the smell of gunpowder and ozone still hung in the air. The division captains were already there, discussing post-op reports around a flickering digital map.

And just a few steps away, leaning against a support beam, arms crossed, and still wearing those scorched gauntlets—stood the 5th Division’s vice captain.

You.

The one who hit like a cannon. The one who didn’t just fight Kaiju—flattened them.

“Now that was a showstopper,” Soshiro said as he approached you, his tone laced with impressed amusement.

You turned to him, the faintest smirk tugging at your lips. “Did you like it?”

“I loved it,” he replied without missing a beat, eyes lingering on the still-smoking gauntlets strapped to your arms.

Before either of you could say more, Captain Mina said, “Thank you for coming all the way out here,” to your superior.

“Ah, it’s no biggie,” your captain waved it off casually. “We’ve been chasing that monster for weeks. Still puzzles me, though—why it came all the way out here.”

Soshiro folded his arms, gaze narrowing slightly. “Yeah. That part doesn’t sit right with me either. Kaiju don’t usually wander without a reason.”

“Then maybe it’s time we start asking the right questions,” your captain muttered, eyes scanning the remnants of the battlefield. “We’ll be taking the body to our base by tomorrow. Hopefully the lab techs can make sense of it.”

Before the conversation turned too grim, Soshiro spoke up again. “How about you stay one more day? We’re hosting a dinner tonight—fancy place, decent food.”

Your captain glanced sideways at you, one brow raised in question.

You just shrugged, giving a small grin. “Sure, why not. Let’s give them a treat. They’ve earned it.”

…

Soshiro was supposed to be getting ready for dinner. But his feet carried him somewhere else.

The training room.

He passed a few soldiers along the way—some from the 3rd Division, others from the visiting 5th. The base was packed, but it was quiet enough that he expected the training hall to be empty.

He pushed open the doors without a second thought—and froze.

There you were. In the center of the mat, bathed in the soft light of the overhead panels. Your back arched, arms stretched behind you in a deep bend that looked more like a yoga pose than combat prep. Your body formed a perfect curve, spine bowed like a drawn bowstring, eyes closed in focus.

For half a second, Soshiro genuinely thought you were meditating.

Then—snap—your body coiled like a spring, faster than his eyes could track. In a single fluid motion, your heel kicked off the ground, twisting you midair as you reached behind your back and pulled—a gleam of silver flashing in your hand.

A blade flew.

It cut through the air with deadly precision and whistled past Soshiro’s cheek—close enough that he felt the sting of displaced wind against his skin. The blade embedded itself into the wall behind him with a solid, final thunk.

He didn’t even flinch. Just stared.

You landed in a crouch, one hand braced on the mat, the other raised slightly in balance. Breathing steady. Eyes finally opening to meet his.

“…I thought this room would be empty,” you said, voice casual, but there was the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at your lips.

Soshiro blinked, still processing what he just saw. “Were you doing… yoga? Or trying to kill me?”

You stood and rolled your shoulder like it was nothing. “Stretching. And also practicing. Can't waste flexibility like this.”

Soshiro looked from you, to the blade stuck in the wall, then back to you. “Remind me never to spar with you on an empty stomach.”

You gave a little bow. “Noted. But no promises.”

You grabbed your water bottle from the corner and made your way toward him, footsteps light and casual despite what just happened.

“But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t spar with you,” Soshiro replied, arms crossed, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

You raised a brow, playful. “Is that a threat, Vice Captain?”

“More like an invitation.”

You blinked—then grinned. “So… a date, then?”

“If it involves you teaching me how to bend like that,” he said, gesturing vaguely toward where you’d twisted your body like it had no bones, “then yes. I’d love to ask you on a date.”

You gave him a look. “Vice Captain Soshiro’s idea of a date is sparring. Why am I not surprised?”

He tilted his head slightly. “Well, if you’re good enough to almost kill me in a training room, I think you’re good enough to keep up with me over dinner.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you brushed past him toward the door. “Careful, Soshiro. Keep talking like that and I might just fall for you.”

“Then I’ll keep talking,” he said, following after you.

...

A/N: IM SO SORRY FOR THE LATE REPLY IM SO SORRY AJKSDNJADA SO MANY SHIT IS GOING AJSDNJADS FANFIC CURSE IS REAL!??!?!? and also new layout hihi

[vashyuu]

After exams this blog is about to transform and also I'll add the tags i didnt include in my works and reblogs

[vashyuu]

I identify with him so much, it's unbearable.

[vashyuu]

Alright, that's a wrap!

[vashyuu]

I COMPLETELY FORGOT TO POST THIS BUT

I FINALLY GOT MY BABYYYYY AAAAAAAHSJSNALSK AFTER SO MANY MONTHS