irlsousuke



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    "No, Gon’s certain that for every gentle touch he’d received, Killua had been hurt at least a dozen times over. For every time Gon had had his hair ruffled, Killua had no doubt retched from the pain of broken bones. For each time Aunt Mito had given his hand a squeeze, Killua must’ve had several fingernails torn out, swift and bloody. It leaves such a painful, gaping wound in Gon’s chest, to imagine that Killua only ever knew touch as something that hurt."

    Gon comes to a sudden realization about Killua's childhood and, predictably, takes it upon himself to do something about it.

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    2,236
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    05 Jul 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    "What could Killua possibly have done to earn this, to be taken care of with such kindness and affection?  He’s never had this before, not in all his life. No one’s ever brought him water and a cool towel. No one’s ever stroked his hair when he was ill or in pain.  No one’s ever sat beside him and spoken to him softly and watched over him so he wasn’t alone. Whatever Killua’s done to deserve this, he’ll make sure he does it again.  As many times as he can, whatever the cost. He’ll earn this again."

    Killua becomes delirious with a high fever, but he isn't subjected to the usual pain and cruelty at the hands of his family. Instead, someone else is here, someone who is very kind and very gentle and very unlike anyone Killua has ever met.

    For the request "Killugon + hiding an illness"

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    English
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    1/1
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    05 Jul 2026

  3. Public Bookmark 27

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    It has to be Killua.

    A warmth blossomed in Killua's chest, slow and viscous and honey-like, at the memory of those words from Gon's mouth. He'd replayed that soundbite in his head at least a thousand times by now, and it still hadn't lost its potency.

    Did Gon know how much power his words had over him?

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    05 Jul 2026

  4. Public Bookmark 39

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    He’s so small, silhouetted against five pillows and heaps of blankets. The detritus of his fever lies scattered around the room, rags and cold compresses and basins of water surrounding his bed.

    “Is he gonna be okay?” Gon asks.

    “He’s… He’s going to be okay,” Leorio said, brushing his thumb over Kurapika’s pulse point. His heartbeat was frighteningly faint. “He has to be.”

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    25 Jun 2026

  5. Public Bookmark 8

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    Once, when he was a kid, his mom had asked him to watch the stove while she stepped out to talk to the neighbors. While fiddling with the knobs on the side of the appliance, the back of his hand accidentally brushed against the stove top, and he recoiled with a strangled yelp that no one was around to hear.

    As much as Leorio wanted to bolt straight out of the kitchen and away from the vicious glare of the stove, his mother wasn't back yet. So he stayed where he was instead, spending about seventeen minutes staring at the silver pot resting atop the glowing red coils before deciding that he was absolutely, positively bored.

    In his restlessness, he turned the pain into a game. Daring to get closer and closer to the burning metal, seeing how long he could touch his fingers against his own reflection in the steel before his blistered skin stung with enough pain to force a subconscious retreat. 

    Being with Kurapika was something like that. 

    Or: When all trains leaving Yorknew City are stopped due to a freak blizzard, Leorio and Kurapika get the chance to catch up after a very long time. It always comes to an end soon enough, though.

    Language:
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    25 Jun 2026