#dont blame me okay i enjoy drawing blood

[stiffyck]

if my brain would focus on something actually normal thatd be appreciated

[reyeslonestar]

I can’t face the world without you

Available on Ao3

a little (long) follow up to this fic. I hope you enjoy

TK x Carlos, Angst with a Happy Ending (yay), Coma, Proposal

tw, mention of a panic attack and cardiac arrest

1.9k words

TK sits in the uncomfortable hospital chair that he’s claimed as his own for the past week, tapping his fingers absently against the velvet box he’s holding in his hands. It’s the ring box that came out of Carlos’ uniform pocket when they’d had to cut the blood stained clothing off on the operating table - the final straw that broke the camel’s back of TK’s emotional capacity on the day that Carlos was shot. There's another box in his pocket - the ring inside the one that TK bought a few weeks ago. The one that he was going to offer to Carlos that Friday night after they'd crawled into bed, holding each other close as they revelled in the wonder of each other’s company.

They should be fiancés by now.

Instead, he’s watching the unnaturally silent stillness of the man he loves most in the world; the slow rhythm of the heart rate monitor a soundtrack to the fear in his head that he might never get the chance to ask that question, or to ever hear it returned.

Because Carlos has been in a coma for 8 days. And while the doctors are hopeful, TK knows there’s no certainty that he will wake up.

TK nearly had a panic attack when they told him Carlos went into cardiac arrest on the operating table, the fluids Tommy gave him in the ambulance not quite enough to counter the amount of blood he lost in the field. He was in a critical condition for some time, but the surgeons managed to pull him through the surgery and he was moved onto a ward in an induced coma. They eased off the anaesthetic the next morning, and from then it’s just been a waiting game.

TK refused to leave the hospital for the first three days, sleeping fitfully on the unforgiving plastic chair pulled up against the side of Carlos’ bed, his head pillowed against his boyfriend’s side - the side without all the bandages and the stitches that are holding Carlos’ organs and tissue in place.

On the fourth night Owen was adamant for TK to go home, have a shower, and sleep in a proper bed, and it was a testament to TK’s exhaustion that he couldn’t bring himself to argue. However, after waking in a cold sweat at 3am from the horror of having to helplessly watch Carlos bleed out in front of him over and over, this time without Tommy and Nancy and the ambulance supplies there to save him, TK had ordered an uber and snuck back through the hospital corridors in the early hours, trembling with relief to see Carlos alive and breathing, even if only thanks to various plastic tubes criss crossing his body, and even though the sight of him so unnervingly motionless burnt a sour taste down the back of TK’s throat.

Carlos’ parents have been here every day, too, coming by the room to sit quietly on the other side of Carlos’ bed, and each time the nurses wheeled Carlos away for scans and tests, Andrea and TK would sit together in silence, gripping tightly onto each other’s hands for support. There were a lot of tests in the first couple days, and scans to try and gauge his brain activity, to know when he’d wake up and what kind of state he’d be in. Apparently the results were hopeful, indicating everything looked to be normal for the circumstances, and that Carlos would be back with them soon.

But Carlos still hasn’t woken up. And TK is losing the fight against imagining the worst.

Grace and Judd had stopped by the night before - the whole 126 have been in and out of the hospital over the last week to visit and lend their support. Carlos became part of their family when he became part of TK’s and TK knows they’re missing him just as he is. Judd had pulled him into a tight hug, whispering that Carlos was strong, that he’d pull through, before planting a kiss on the top of his head, ruffling his hair as they’d parted. Grace’s hug had been softer, but no less loving, and they’d both sat by Carlos’ side for a time while Judd took Andrea and Gabriel to get some more coffee from the hospital cafe.

He’d felt her eyes on the way he’d been fiddling with the ring box, the same way he has been ever since he found it.

“You know I wanted to propose that night?” he’d said suddenly, voice scratching with the first words he'd willingly volunteered in days. “Nothing extravagant, just- in a way that was us,” he’d added, volume diminished to a hushed whisper on the last word.

Grace had squeezed his arm gently. “So did he,” she’d said quietly, and TK had just stared at her, unable to put anything into words. She’d shrugged slightly. “He was going to make you dinner that night and propose then. He wanted it to be special, but like you say, in a way that was you.”

Tk has felt too numb with fear to cry since he broke down on that first night, but he’d been pretty damn close then.

“I can’t lose him,” he’d whispered, barely loud enough to hear himself, but Grace had heard him anyway.

“I know, honey, I know,” she’d told him. “The same way I know he’s fighting to come right back to you.”

As much as TK wants to believe her words, as the hours creep late into Carlos’ ninth night in this bed, he’s wondering if maybe Carlos has fought all he can. Maybe his strength finally gave out and the beeping machines next to him is the only thing keeping that chest steadily rising and falling.

Tucking his chair as close to the bed as he can, TK draws Carlos’ hand to his lips as he rests his head against the bedcovers, settling in for another night of interrupted sleep.

“I need you back, Carlos,” he whispers, holding back the tears that threaten to spill down his cheeks. “I dont- I can’t face the world without you.”

-

Tk wakes to the feeling of a gentle hand stroking through his hair with slow movements. He blinks slowly and looks up to see warm brown eyes smiling at him.

“Hi,” Carlos whispers, his voice a hoarse and grating sound from a week's disuse.

It’s the most wonderful sound TK has ever heard.

He cries Carlos’ name brokenly, launching himself at Carlos' neck to hold him close. He can feel Carlos chuckling slightly under his chest even as he pulls TK closer and he closes his eyes to soak in this feeling.

“I missed you,” he mumbles into Carlos’ neck and Carlos holds him even tighter.

“I’m sorry,” he hears Carlos whisper, and he pulls back abruptly.

“No,” he says firmly, wiping away the tears that have slipped down his face. “No, you have nothing to apologise for.” He stands up, shifting into action. “Let me get you some water and then we need to get your doctor, get you checked out-”

Carlos’ hand tugging on his interrupts him. “I love you,” Carlos says, voice still scratchy and rough, but he’s smiling at TK, who sits heavily back into his chair.

“I love you too,” he says, squeezing Carlos’ hand painfully. “I love you so much and I thought I was going to lose you and-” he stops and takes a breath, halting the runaway train of his fear in its tracks. “I’m just so happy to see you again,” he finishes with a whisper.

“I’m here,” Carlos says. “And I’m not going anywhere without you.”

-

TK hovers by Carlos’ bed for the next few hours, only stepping far enough away to allow the doctors and nurses to check Carlos over, run tests and eventually remove the various apparatus that have helped keep him alive. Gabriel and Andrea are a teary mess when they see their son sitting up, breathing, talking, alive, and TK can’t blame them. He feels like he’s been holding his body up through sheer stress and worry, and now he knows Carlos is going to be okay, he’s ready to collapse with relief.

At long last, though, the hospital staff retreat and Carlos’ parents head to the cafe to leave Carlos and TK alone once more and TK doesn’t miss the way Carlos sighs with relief.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “Do you need something? I can get you something to eat, or drink, or if you need to sleep-”

“I just want you,” Carlos interrupts gently. “I want to ask you something.”

There's something in his voice that makes TK sit up straighter and he frowns slightly. “What’s up?”

“When I woke up- you were holding a box,” Carlos starts, and TK, realising what he’s referring to, pulls the two ring boxes from his pocket and holds up the one from Carlos’ uniform so Carlos can see it. He nods, taking it from TK’s fingers and studying it as he carries on, “I had a whole dinner planned, you know? I was going to cook for us, lay the table out on the terrace and then after we’d eaten I was going to get down on one knee, and ask you. I definitely didn’t plan for this to happen but-” He opens the box carefully, turning it so the ring faces TK and takes a deep breath.

“I love you, TK. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to wake up every morning and know that the love of my life is lying next to me. I want to have a family with you, and make every house we live in into our home. I want to make you dinner whenever we feel like it and spend half our day off in bed even though one in the afternoon is outrageously late for a lie in.” TK chuckles slightly at the dig at his unwillingness to get up in the mornings and Carlos smiles, so bright and warm.

“I didn’t know I could love anyone like this until I met you.” Carlos continues, “You’ve filled my life with so much happiness and I want to try and make you as happy as I can for as long as I can, so - Tyler Kennedy Strand, will you marry me?”

TK smiles tearfully as he ruefully holds up his own box, laughing slightly as he sees realisation dawn on Carlos’ face. “Beat me to it, didn’t you?” he jokes, opening the box to look at the simple platinum band set with diamonds inside. “I’m afraid I didn't plan a dinner, or a big speech. All I knew was that I wanted to ask you, because I want all those things, too. You’re my family and you’re also my home. You’re the best thing in my life- Carlos, you nearly died and I-” he pauses, swallowing back the shadow of choking fear that threatens to mute him. “I don’t know what I would do without you. You’re everything to me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I don’t want to go another day without asking you to marry me. So yes, Carlos Reyes, I will marry you, but only if you marry me first.”

Carlos laughs through the tears welling in his eyes, pulling TK in by the wrist to kiss him, whispering “I love you” against his lips. When they pull back, he gently threads the ring onto TK’s left hand, his own hand trembling when TK returns the gesture. TK brings Carlos’ hand up to his lips in a mirror of the last night of Carlos’ coma and kisses the ring, warm lips against cool metal.

“I love you,” TK says quietly. “And I can’t wait to love you for the rest of our lives.”

[just-my-fandom]

Blame (Tony Stark x Daughter! Reader x Carol Danvers)

Request; Sorry if it's a weird request but can I have a lil Tony Stark x daughter!reader oneshot where Carol was the one to wield the Infinity stones (she survived), killed Thanos and all that, and Tony lived but R sacrificed herself to get the soul stone? And while he’s talking with Carol he can't stop thinking about it, experiencing survivor's guilt all over again and also thinking about the whole "there's only 1 reality in which we win" thing. So he finds Strange and confronts him about it, and in the end Tony gets him to confess that there were actually 2 outcomes in which they won but he lied for whatever reason Tony doesn't listens to and starts to get real angry at him, acting out of grief and pain because his daughter is gone and that could've been prevented. Sorry if it's too specific, I wanted to write it myself but I don't have the skills. Love u bye.

A/N; Didn’t know if you wanted a romantic pairing so I included a small Carol x reader so I hope you enjoy and that this doesn’t suck too much rip

I hate to inform that there is a shit tone of time skips in this oops. This is super long too, but I didn’t include the part with Carol and the stones

Warnings; Age gap between Carol and reader?? Reader is 19 during Infinity War

“Don’t you think you should go home with Pepper?”

You look up at a deep voice, eyes catching Steve leaning up against the doorway of the small office in the compound,

“And do what? Sit around and pretend that none of this happened?” You shrug your shoulders, attempting to ease the ache in your muscles, “That my father might be dead and Carol is probably dust too?”

“I’m sure Carols just fine,” Steve heaves a soft breath, your eyes glossing over as you shake your head,

“Then why hasn’t she tried to contact me?” You look up at the man you called your uncle, Steve frowning, “Why hasn’t she come down to Earth to check up?”

Steve moves forward, turning around at a rumble in the ground, catching Natasha running past him in the halls, “Dont let Pepper leave,” She calls, Steve shortly looking at you then following the blonde woman,

You shove away from your desk, feet slowly picking up speed so you ran past Steve, jumping over the steps outside the compounds door and slowing to a stop next to Natasha, eyes trailing up at the large ship,

“Carol!” You catch the blonde moving from under the ship, running up to her so she could pull you against her, hand at your hair,

“Hey baby,” She murmurs tiredly, thumb caressing your cheek and lips pressing to yours slowly, eyes shutting, “What happened while I was gone?”

“Thanos,” You reveal, the tears from minutes ago slipping into her hand, “Almost everyone’s gone, vanished. I thought you were too-,” Your eyes move past her shoulder, catching Steve and Pepper helping someone stand as they were too weak to do so on their own,

“Dad?” Carol allows you to slip away from her, Tony’s head lifting to meet your gaze,

“You’re okay,” He croaks out, pulling his arm away from Steve to reach out to you, Pepper holding his sides so he didn’t collapse when he throws both arms around you, “Oh thank God,”

“I thought you vanished,” You whisper, Tony shaking his head and blinking away sudden tears,

“I couldn’t leave my two favorite girls,” Tony cracks a smile, glancing at Pepper next to him,

“Let’s get you inside,” Pepper murmurs, “Get you a shower and clean clothes, food too,”

“Wait wait,” It’s an hour later. Rhodey and Thor had been called, told of Tony’s finding, and now you and your super family had gathered in the main area of the compound, “If you’re all super and powerful, where the hell were you during this whole attack with Thanos?”

Your eyes stare at your uncle, Rhodey, his gaze sharp on Carol next to you.

“There are many other planets than just Earth,” Carol reminds, flicking an eyebrow to the man and glancing at you when you put a hand on her arm,

“Who’s all gone?” You ask Tony, his gaze leaving the table to look up at his only child,

“The guardians. Strange. Peter,” Tony swallows, your hand tightening at Carols arm at the mention off your brother figure,

Carol protectively slides her hand into yours, squeezing tightly to assure you,

“What about here?” Tony questions quietly, rubbing his face out of exhaustion,

“The Wakandian siblings,” You start, voice wavering, “Wanda, Sam, Buck. Visions gone for good, I saw Thanos pull the stone out of him,”

You shut your eyes at the memory, Carol inhaling deeply and looking at your father,

“Point is, what do we do now?”

“There is nothing we can do,” Tony lifts a shoulder, sitting back down in his chair, “The stones and Thanos disappeared after he snapped. We just have to...move on,”

5 Years Later (Reader has moved out of the Stark home and moved in with her Aunt, Natasha, where they stay at the compound)

“Any luck on Banner?”

You lean into the table behind you, eyes scanning across the four holograms in front of you,

“Negative,” Rhodey answers, shifting in his spot of the hologram, “I’m going to try Europe, but that’s the best I can do,”

You nod once, tapping your fingers against the desk nervously, “Carol, are we still seeing you next month?”

“Not likely,” Carol moves her eyes to meet yours, now short hair blowing in her face, “You might not see me for a good while,”

“Figured,” You murmur, lowering your head and sighing. Rhodey looks between you and the superhero beside Rocket and Nebula, then clears his throat,

“I’ll let you know of any updates on Banner from here,” He steps back, his hologram vanishing from its device. You raise your head, watching Nebula and a Rocket along with a Wakandian solider leave their hologram frames,

“I’ll come as soon as I can,” Carol exhales, eyes staring at you and catching sudden tears, “Y/N, look at me,”

You do so, allowing your eyes to meet hers, forcing yourself to swallow down a sob in your throat,

“I’ll be home soon,” She promises, “Then we’ll get our own apartment together and no more superhero stuff for a while,”

“It’s just lonely,” You whisper, “Natasha is still upset about Bruce and Steve barely does anything anymore. My dad and Pepper are all worried about Morgan to bother with me,”

“They still love you,” Carol smiles, “I have to go now, promise to be safe,”

Your lips tug upwards, hand raising to hover over her hands hologram, “I promise,”

Carol smiles, hologram hand brushing your cheek, before she steps back and she disappears from your line of sight,

You drop your hand, bringing the back to your eye to wipe away a tear that had fallen,

. . .

“Dad, we both know what has to be done,”

Father-daughter fight. All parents fight with their kids, but not like this. Your arm holds its laser at your father feet away, rumble cracking underneath your foot at the edge,

“Exactly. You get away from that ledge and get the stone,” Tony snarls, your hand pressing the side of your helmet so it lifted and revealed your face, eyes blood shot from tears,

“I have to jump!” You exhale, “Pepper and Morgan need you, more than they need me,”

“And Danvers doesn’t need you?” Tony shoots, watching your hand slightly falter at the mention of the female captain, “She cares about you, just like I do with Pepper. You can’t just leave her like that, you promised her you’d be safe,”

“I can’t keep every God damn promise Dad!” You clutch your fist, free hand powering up, “I have to do this! It’s the only way to bring them back!”

You grunt out of irritation, shooting at Tonys leg so he had to move to the side to dodge, eyes looking forward and finding your figure vanished,

“Y/N?” Tony moves forward, eyes looking down at the cliff below, “Y/N!”

Stone glowing brightly in one hand, Tony forces his suit to fly downwards, stumbling on his feet and landing next to you, lifting your fragile body with trembling arms,

“Y/N, no,” Tony draws a hand over your cheek, choking on a rough sob that broke through his chest. Tony looks down, cursing at the timer on his watch and forcing himself away from you, disappearing into dust and leaving you in your own blood,

Present Time. Thanos has been defeated and the Avengers gather at the Stark home for the readers funeral

“Is it on?”

Carol thought she’d never see you again. But just after your funeral, Tony had asked for everyone to group into the living room of his home, announcing he had something from you,

Your blue hologram stood on the carpet, eyes looking off to the distant to your father off camera,

“Yeah, go ahead,”

Your eyes look forward, landing on Pepper and Morgan on the couch next to Tony and Peter,

“This is recorded the day before we go back in time,” You start, shifting in your spot and clearing your throat, “Um, I wanted to record this in case, I don’t know, anything happened,”

Carol tightens her crossed arms, eyes leaving your hologram to shut and blink away tears,

“First thing I wanted to say is for Carol,” The blonde opens her eyes at her name, glancing to your hologram as you shove your hands into your hoodies pockets, “I know we won’t be able to see each other for a while. You’re out doing God knows what to save other planets. I respect that. I just want you home so I know you’re safe,”

You tap your socked foot, rolling your shoulders, “This is harder than I thought,” You sigh, and glance over when Tony’s past self speaks up again,

“Want to try again later?”

You shake your head, looking back at the camera in front of you, “No. Carol, I don’t know what’s going to happen. It could be good, we’ll defeat Thanos and get that apartment we wanted, or something bad could happen,”

“But if something does, I want Dad to show this to you, hence the reason we’re recording this in the first place,”

“Ah,” You stop to cough, “I love you Carol. I hope you come home soon,” You shift again, then sink down into the chair behind you, “Pepper, Morgan...”

Tony stands up from his spot at the couch, blinking away his thoughts when he walks up to Stephen, who kept against the wall of living room,

“Can I talk to you?” Tony asks quietly, Stephen nodding shortly and moving around Bruce, following Tony onto the porch of his home,

“How else could this have all ended?” Tony asks blunty, Stephen looking out to the lake in the yard, your holograms voice heard inside,

“Bad or good?” Stephen looks at Tony, watching the mans face conjure with realization,

“What do you mean by good?” Tony snarls, eyes searching the wizards, “What other ways could we have won?”

“It happens almost the exact same way,” Stephen starts, voice calm, “Danvers gets the stones and snaps, everyone’s brought back,”

“Then what changed?” Tony’s hand grips at the porch railing, chest tightening, “Did my daughter survive?”

“Yes,” Stephen swallows, thickly, “Somehow she was able to get the stone with both of you remaining alive,”

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me?!” Tony’s booming voice has Carol glancing over, staring at the two men just outside the door,

“I was dust!” Stephen exclaims, “Y/N just didn’t think of it and took her own path,”

“So it’s her fault?” Tony scoffs, “Without her dying you wouldn’t be standing here,”

“I know that,” Stephen sighs, eyes shutting,

“Then act grateful for it,” Tony pushes away from the rail, “Because my daughter is dead. And frantically, I would send you back for her,”

Stephen silently watches Tony enter the house again. He understood Tony’s anger- a father losing his child is a nightmare for every father.

“Tony? What happened?” Pepper stands up, the group around watching Tony brush her hand off his shoulder, disappearing up the stairs,

Their eyes move to Stephen, his eyes closing again as he leans into the rails, heaving a sigh,

Pepper moves her gaze to the wizard, eyes glossing over before following her husband with quick steps,

“Tony,” Pepper calls shortly, catching the door Tony attempted to close and moving into their shared bedroom, “Tony, what did Stephen tell you?”

“There was another way,” Tony gasps, eyes blurring over so his wives form was a blob of color, “Y/N lived. But we didn’t go that way,”

“Tony,” Pepper murmurs, hands sliding to his face and moving his gaze down to her, “I know you’re upset, and you have every right to be. But Y/N’s gone, she wouldn’t want you so upset,”

“She’s gone,” Tony repeats, body breaking down into Pepper so her arms would wrap around his shoulders. A loud sob escapes Tony’s lips, hands clutching at Peppers black dress in hopes to ease the pain in his chest,

Your laugh brings Tony to open his eyes, the voice of your hologram easing the tension in his shoulders, “Morgan, make sure you keep dad safe for me Okay?”

“I don’t need to be protected,” Tony’s hologram snorts, Pepper subconsciously smiling and leaning back to look at Tony,

“Yes you do,” She whispers softly, “You need to be protected from this hurt. She wouldn’t want you hurting Tony,”

“I know,” Tony croaks out, eyes shutting tiredly, “But she’s my baby, Pep. Imagine losing Morgan,”

“But we didn’t,” Pepper smiles, “And I’m nearly a hundred percent sure Y/N’s happy that Morgan still has her dad even though she couldn’t,”

Tony nods, sliding away from Pepper to run a hand down his face and inhale,

“Do you want to go finish watching the video?”

Pepper smiles, taking Tony’s hand and following him downstairs to watch your hologram coincidentally meet Tony’s gaze, waving to him with a bright smile,

“I love you 3000 Dad. I mean it,”

A/N: EW that ended so baddd But PLEASE SEND ME CAROL REQUESTSSS

[yyh-revival]

Alot of people draw parallels between Kurama and Kurapika, Hiei and Killua, Yusuke and Gon, Kuwabara and Leorio But no one comments on how Karasu is this weird hybrid of Ilumi and Hisoka. ( Also Sensui and Chrollo)

Wish I could help you there, but I only saw I think two seasons? Maybe one season. *shrugs* I could never get into Hunter x Hunter. I have a few theories for why, I think, but it’s all super subjective. One of my friends is the exact opposite, obsessed with HxH and unable to enjoy Yu Yu Hakusho.

If you are a fan of HxH, I strongly advise you don’t read this. These are my personal opinions on why I cannot stand the show, not a detailed analysis of the show itself or objective view of its merit. Will be under cut.

Also I am sleep deprived and potentially tipsy so this will likely not be coherent. *finger guns*

Anyway, for me, HxH always felt… too on the nose? Too Naruto-like, in a way? Here, meet Gon, he’s a super nice and friendly dude, but oh no, he has a tragic past because his dad is missing… And now he wants to be just like his dad, who is missing, so why is he emulating a dude he doesn’t know? And here, meet Killua, he’s a psychopath and he’s like 10. Instead of getting this kid a therapist the older characters around him are going to encourage him to go kill people. Oh yes, these children are also murderers. Meet Kurapika, the Kurama of the group, who is also a bishie, is low-key scary, intelligent, caring, and also has a tragic past! Yay… And Leorio… I confess I don’t know shit about him. But he probably has a tragic past.

Okay, I am probably being too harsh on this show. I know it’s beloved by many people. But the constant pushing of “tragic!! So sad!!” and “child murder! Yay!” Is just not my cup of tea. 

YYH did this way better, in my opinion. The tragedy is there, but it’s layered on slowly. Hiei, who arguably has one of the most tragic childhoods a shonen character ever experienced, doesn’t actually tell us what happened to him until the show is almost over. We get to learn who he is, what makes him tick, we get to love him, ponder about his past, get invested. Then we are given the sad. But HxH is like Naruto in the fact that it just shoves it into our face, as if to say, “hey, this character had a bad childhood, you should feel sorry for them and love them.” I just hate that. 

And Gon… that friendly optimism is just… weird? He feels 2-d to me, not like a real child. Whereas the imperfect Yusuke acts exactly as you’d expect a child in his position to act. He has daddy issues because he never had a father. He has issues with authority because his mother was awful and he never felt safe or comforted by the adults around him. He gravitates towards male role models and at the same time rejects them. He respects only one authority, Genkai, because she is the first adult who taught him what he��found useful. His kindness, his empathy, all that is earned. When Yusuke tells Genkai he cares about her, when he cries over her death, we believe it and we feel it, because we saw what he was like when he didn’t care, when he didn’t have an adult to turn to. It’s like a child that had been neglected all his life who was suddenly thrust into a foster home or an orphanage where one cranky lady is done with life, so she’s honest and raw and doesn’t throw platitudes into his face, and he respects that. He gravitates to it the same way 9th grade students do to the teacher who uses swear words in class and isn’t afraid to show the Romeo and Juliet movie that has the *gasp* boobie in it. His relationship with Genkai is realistic and earned, and genuine like crazy, and when he mourns her, the first and only adult he respected, loved, and felt safe with, we all mourn with him…

But Gon? I don’t know. He just put me off from the start. He doesn’t seem to have a reason for being so damn friendly. He doesn’t seem to act like a normal human being at all. He’s just this weird 2-d cartoon that tries to kill with kindness and be just like his missing dad instead of, ya know, doing the realistic thing and having a complicated relationship with him. Like, Yusuke doesn’t hate Atsuko. But he sure does blame her for lots of things. I can interject my own childhood here, because my feelings toward family are also complicated. I know the “missing parent” thing really well because my parents lived in a different county for half of my childhood, and I can tell you, while I understood why they did it, and loved them, and appreciated with all my heart the sacrifices they made… I still did, and still do, blame them for robbing me of a normal childhood. Of robbing me of a relationship with them. Of robbing me of that mother-daughter best friend dynamic, of being able to tell them all my secrets and feel like they’re part of my life and not just distant parental figures I respect and love the way the religious love and respect their gods. And Yusuke is the same. His relationships with all the adults in his life, even some of the other kids, are complicated and layered and realistic. He knows his mother had a raw dealing having him at what, 15? But he also blames her for not doing more… Hiei, how does he feel, knowing that his mother died, instead of leaving the Glacier Village during her pregnancy or right after birth to go look for him? How does he feel knowing she stayed there, and died there? It wasn’t her fault. She was heartbroken, she was exhausted from giving birth, and she was weak and scared and alone… it’s even implied she committed suicide. And if she did, don’t you think Hiei might still feel complicated about it? Don’t you think he might feel like she should have been stronger, for him, for this small child that didn’t deserve his fate? She should have lived and left the village and searched for him! She should have looked even if she knew he was dead, if nothing else then to bury him! That’s the sort of thoughts I bet once ran through his mind…

But Gon? Nothing. Just… love for mom and idealizing dad. It’s boring, unrealistic, and I hate it.

Killua, my friend’s favorite shonen character (if not favorite anime character) of all time is literally one of my least favorite, and the only character I might have liked, Kurapika, was clearly ripping off of Kurama, whip and all included. So I just could never finish the show.

As for the Karasu question, technically, he came first, so those other characters are based on him. But from what I did actually see of Hisoka… he’s like an evil pedo (right?? I heard something like that??) clown. That’s what he is. How is he threatening? This isn’t even a rhetorical question. Creepy, maybe. But I’d just feel slightly uneased by him and then call the police if he came near me. If Karasu had his eyes on me like he did on Kurama, I’d probably shit my pants, let’s be real. 

Karasu was a sadist. He was thrilled by the “intimacy between murderer and victim.” And the scariest shit of all? You can sorta understand him. When you murder someone, you are the only person in the world to see what happens to them. You have complete control over that person. You are their god, deciding if they are worthy of life or death. It’s an urge you can theorize about, can talk about, can even understand to a degree. But Hisoka? He uh, wears clown clothes and chases Gon? Or something? He makes scary faces? Karasu doesn’t have to even show his face to be terrifying. He just has to talk about his hobbies and his beliefs. Hell, the moment she shows up you feel something is up. I saw Hisoka like, at least 10 times and I still don’t know shit bout him. Karasu had like, 3-4 speaking scenes and they all made him fucking scarier with each one. I felt like each scene with Hisoka added absolutely zero to the show. Not to mention how fucking slow it was…

I feel like having a character target your young protagonist and make creepy faces at them is just lazy. Dude is, and I know Naruto came after, but that’s the show I saw first and actually know a thing or two about (till whenever shippuden started). So dude is just like Orochimaru. Now I was never scared of that guy, I just thought he was a total creeper. To me, there were way scarier moments. Hell, even Gaara’s brother, when he like, trapped a guy inside a puppet and then blood dripped out? Was that him? Anyway, that moment was way freakier than anything Orochimaru did. Karasu’s like 3 scenes were way more psychologically scary than all of Orochimaru’s scenes put together. And I got the same vibe from Hisoka as Orochimaru. The, he’s creepy and these kids should definitely find an adult asap, and not “holy fuck that’s a mass kidnapper/rapist/torturer/murderer and holy hell I am fascinated and also terrified and holy shit Kurama run run run!” 

*shrugs* Karasu is honestly probably the scariest villain in YYH, too. Only because he enjoys torture and murder, and he explains why. And the explanation makes fucking sense and its so terrifying that I can’t

and he also doesn’t look like a clown. That’s a major plus. I’m not and never will be scared of clowns. Like… its a clown. Its colorful and does weird shit. How is that scary? No, demonic looking motherfuckers with long ass ink black hair and eyes that glow purple with glee at the thought of ripping blood curling screams out of someone in front of a giant ass audience, and lamenting that they wish they could fucking keep him and I dont know fucking fuck his corpse is that what he meant cause holy fuck!??! 

Anyway, Karasu gives me nightmares and I love him and I don’t care for HxH and I need sleep and love you all very much please don’t hate me for disliking this show I really did give it like, three separate chances. *shrugs*

- Mod Lola

[dothewrite]

anonymous asked:

so a scenario with akaashi, kyoutani (if you do him) and iwaizumi where its like a GANGAU kinda thing and their s/o becomes a target for their rival gang and they kidnap her nd once the guys find her and stuff afterwards they treat her wounds and cuddles everywhere and fluffiness (unless they dont find her??? o.0) up to you but extra points for fluffyness at the enddd <333

Last installment! Thanks for the wait, and may your evenings be warm with Iwaizumi’s arms around you and his cheek pressed into your hair. I hope you enjoy!

Akaashi. Kyoutani.

Being in a coma is nothing like they show you in movies. You don’t know if you’re breathing shallowly, or if a squad of surgeons are surrounding you, or if your room is filled with visitors or if you’re just alone. The thing is, all you remember was being punched, repeatedly, in the gut, and someone was kicking you from the back. It had been a while since you had been able to see out of your left eye from how swollen it was, and what kept you alive was the small mercy that they hadn’t touched you like that yet. Just for that, you took at least fifteen more blows with a faint smile. Then, someone came. The voice of someone you recognized burst into the room like a vuvuzela, and blood. Lots of blood. Theirs? Yours? Or maybe it was the rain of bodies around you, the sea spray of red highlighting the tips of your cheekbones, tinting your lips with a luscious red, and copper. The coppery, metallic drops sliding into your mouth no matter which way you faced in the darkness, and you lost consciousness before you heard your name being shouted out in the darkness.

It’s barely two minutes to you in the comfortable warmth of unconsciousness, but your eyes, glued shut with sleep and reluctance to have to function again, pry themselves open to the glaring light of the room you’re laid down in. It’s strangely quiet, and there’s no mistaking where you are despite the grogginess in your head- you’ve been in rooms like these, inhaled their fumes and borrowed their disinfectant enough to know that this is a hospital room- and gods, you must have had it worse than you thought. Well, it’s difficult to tell how much damage you’re taking once the hits post-twenty start blurring together into this endless loop of pain.

You reach for the remote that controls your bedpan angle and press up.

“For some reason,” a disembodied voice comes from behind the curtain on your right, “I had a hunch that’d be the first thing you’d play with once you woke up.”

You drop the control remote almost like a child caught red handed with cookies before dinner, and you blush up to your roots as much as you can with your bloodloss.

“I didn’t hear you coming.” You admit with a slight tinge of petulance.

The voice, Iwaizumi- you’d recognize it even in your grave- brushes open the drapes surrounding your bed and makes himself comfortable in a soft, plush loveseat you didn’t notice either to your right. You know better than to question why there’s a sofa in the middle of a hospital room, so you choose to fiddle nervously with your fingers instead, waiting for the silence to break because he’s never this quiet without a good build up towards something.

“Want some water?” He offers you a cup of something clear and you stare. “It’s got electrolytes in it so it might taste different.”

“I…” you stumble, “...thanks.”

“No problem.”

He hasn’t looked into your eyes once, and this is possibly the most stressful water-sipping you’ve ever experienced in your life. He definitely sounds normal, although a little tired and perhaps tense, but that’s nothing you’re not used to already, knowing his line of work. The line of work that possibly got you into this mess in the first place, but you sure as hell aren’t going to bring that up right now. Not when this feels like a taut rubber band about to snap.

You sneak a glance at him again, and he’s staring fixedly at the clock on the bedside table. He turns his head slightly towards you, almost like he can feel your gaze, and you quickly snap your focus back onto that bland, white cup you’re holding.

How can time pass so slowly?

“How long have you been here for?” You venture, tentatively, nervously. Goddamn stressfully.

“A while.”

“...Have you showered?”

Iwaizumi’s unimpressed stare meets your own and in it tells you exactly how much he doesn’t want to answer your questions. But he does, because he is who he is, and you are who you are to him. “Not yet.”

You can feel it, if nothing else, his urge to both cradle your face in his hands and give you a brutal scolding at the same time. He can’t, though, as much as he wants to, and you know why.

“It wasn’t your fault, Hajime.”

His lips press even tighter until they’re a thin, pale coloured line on his conflicted expression. He reaches a hand out to cover yours, and they’re endlessly warm compared to the thinness of your hospital sheets, as calloused and worn as they are around your own. His rough thumb strokes over the back of your hand, pressing deep circles into the dips of your bones and each touch feels like a confession.

Iwaizumi doesn’t believe you when you say that, and there’s nothing more you want in this moment than for him to take your word for it. “It was kind of terrible,” you try again, a different approach in hopes of reaching him somehow, “and I can’t say I’m not… not going to have nightmares about it, probably, but I didn’t blame you. Not for a second.”

“I was going to tell you off, you know,” he finally grumbles, so reluctantly that it draws a warm smile onto your face, “you’re not the one who should be doing the talking.”

“You were too quiet,” you giggle softly, “it was really awkward drinking water with you all moody.” Laughing is a bad idea though, because you can’t hide the wince that escapes from your mouth when a shake of your ribs shoots a flash of pain up your spine like lightning. Iwaizmi’s eyes miss nothing, and his arms immediately grab hold of your shoulders and commandeer you back down onto your bed.

He’s absolutely torn between comforting you and geting pissed off, so you grin at him shamelessly until he caves. The fingers never leave their firm press around your shoulder blades, and he leans in closer to you to make his point clearer. “Stay still. Don’t run off like that at night again, okay? I…,” ‘it’s my fault, I’m sorry’ dances across his face once and vanishes, “...I’ll keep better tabs on you so you don’t have to be trapped at home all the time.”

“I’m not-”

He levels you with a stare and you lose your argument. Your eyes fall to your hands in your lap instead, your words all jumbled up and slow to form. “I don’t mind.” Your tongue wraps around those words as carefully as it can. “You’re always here to take care of me, and I’d rather have a curfew and you around than have a whole night alone.”

When you glance back up, Iwaizumi looks like he’s furious at the wetness pooling in his eyes. Your heart is pounding with something that feels so far from fear, and your bandaged arms wrap around his neck as gently as they can to pull him closer to you. His hands copy you in an almost trance-like dance, and you nuzzle your face into his ragged palm, feeling his affection wash over you in the turbulence of a solar storm.

He’s not the type to ask himself why you chose him. Iwaizumi knows exactly what he loves about you, and what you love about him, and why the two of you seem to have so much more when you’re together than when you’re apart. Those nights with leftover pizza and terrible chick flicks weren’t just movie night, and those evenings spent wrapped around each other in his bed too large for the two of you were more than time passing with someone else. The two of you are multiplication, in every form, and the words aren’t nearly enough for it all when he lets them go.

“Please stay safe,” he cracks. “I need you safe. Home. With your shitty cooking and no bruises.”

“No more bruises,” you promise, “and food so shitty that you’re stuck on the toilet for days.”

“Sounds great,” Iwaizumi laughs.

It’s okay, those fingers seem to write on your cheek in soft swirls, you’re back, you’re safe, and he loves you.