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ok FINE i guess killua and gon are extremely adorable

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Hi! This isn’t my usual form of media, but it’s a fan account no less so!! I will post anything and everything that is hxh!! I wrote a very quick, retrospective fanfic about Gon. It can be read through a romantic or platonic lens, but it’s arguably more platonic in my opinion. I might post it to ao3 for funsies, but I’m doing it here first! (I have no idea how to format this on tumblr…) Excuse typos or missed italics, I’m too lazy to double check.

“Eurydice”

No matter how fast Killua runs, he’s always one step behind Gon—until one day, he isn’t there at all.

Gon could never know Killua was behind him. He knew Killua would be, because—it’s Killua. Killua always followed him.

But belief isn’t proof. And technically, there was no way to be sure. Not without turning around. Killua’s footsteps were too soft for certainty—quieter than wind, lighter than breath, stealthy even when there was no need to hide. So quiet, Gon’s trained ear sometimes mistook him for a ghost.

He never asked about that. It was a strange habit of Killua’s, one he didn’t quite understand: always walking behind, never beside. He’d wondered why—but never asked. Killua was skittish, flighty; that was the kind of question he’d either dodge or lie about.

Still, it gave Gon a strange sense of pride. Or something close to it. Maybe that’s not the right word, not the right emotion—but he’s never been good with those, anyway. Still, yes: pride.

If he walked through the pits of hell—through fire, through ice—he didn’t need to look behind him to know Killua would be there. He had no anxieties, no doubts, no qualms. Because Killua was loyal like that. Too loyal. It had always taken so little for Killua to give so much of himself.

But looking back, all those years ago, maybe he should’ve turned around anyways.

He doesn’t remember the last thing Killua said to him. Not even the things he said in their last goodbye—because the World Tree was right there, and Ging was right there. Their final moment slipped by without being marked. No grand goodbye. No dramatic slam of the door. Just…

Gone.

He finds himself nineteen now, sprawled across his childhood bed. Legs tan and long and useless, toes grazing the floor, eyes chasing the constellations cracked into the ceiling paint. Wondering what happened.

It wasn’t always like that. They used to talk in a language only they understood—half-sentences, quiet snickers, stolen glances, sharp exhales. Gon used to think that kind of understanding was permanent. Like breathing. Like blood.

But maybe Killua was always a little out of reach. Maybe he couldn't see that, back then. Even now, he tells himself it must’ve been something else that pulled Killua away. Some trick of fate. Some external thing he couldn’t control.

Because the alternative is worse. If that wasn’t it, then Killua must’ve left because of him.

So he rewrites it, just a little. Tells himself stories in his head—little ones, harmless ones. Killua was always stubborn. And sensitive. Always took things too personally. Always ran when things got hard.

And Gon… Gon was just trying to stay focused. Stay strong. He didn’t have the luxury of falling apart when Kite died. Someone had to keep moving. Someone had to fight.

He remembers thinking Killua didn’t understand that. He said something, too. Something sharp, ugly. But not that bad.

Gon tries to picture the moment, the way Killua’s face fell. But the memory’s hazy, or maybe he’s making it up all on his own. He wants to believe Killua didn’t cry—not in front of him, at least. If Killua had needed him, really needed him, he would’ve said something.

(But maybe he did. Maybe Gon just didn’t hear it. Or didn’t want to.)

The thing is, Gon knows that’s where it all started to rot—right there in the heat and blood of the Chimera Ants. When Killua stayed, and stayed, and stayed, Gon kept slipping further away. He’s positive that’s where it must’ve changed. Not loudly. Not dramatically. But soft and subtle. Like footsteps fading behind him.

Still, what was he supposed to do? Kite died. Kite died. Gon couldn’t prioritize their friendship in the frenzy of the war. He had to beat Knuckle, find Pitou, and save Kite. But then the throne room happened.

That moment—fixed in amber in his mind—Pitou kneeling over Komugi, whispering things Gon didn’t care to hear. He remembers the sick heat in his blood, the way it roared in his ears. Everything else—Killua’s voice, the warnings, the silence—was muffled by the pulse pounding in his skull.

He hadn’t even looked at Killua.

Because this wasn’t about him. This wasn’t about them. It was about Kite. About holding someone accountable before the guilt swallowed him whole. He needed something to crush, something to hate, something to hurt.

Pitou had bowed their head. Asked for time. Begged for patience.

Gon had none left.

He was shaking. Not from fear, but from fury. It had no name, but it crackled through his bones like lightning. He remembers staring at Pitou’s hands and thinking they were too gentle. Too careful. How dare they be gentle. How dare they touch someone like that, like they understood care, like they could save anything after what they’d taken.

Komugi’s breathing had been shallow. He remembers that now, maybe. Or perhaps he’s adding that in—he doesn’t know anymore. All he knew then was that Pitou wanted him to wait a whole hour and Gon was half a second away from crushing the girl’s skull in.

And Killua—

He was right there behind him, like always. Killua had said something. He can’t remember at all what his best friend said, but the cadence of his voice was quick, panicked, and desperate.

Gon didn’t listen.

Not because he didn’t want to, but because it didn’t matter. Nothing could’ve mattered in that moment except what he felt. The fury, the betrayal, the hole inside his chest he needed to fill with revenge.

He remembers thinking, Why can’t Killua see that? Why is he trying to stop me?

He can’t recall what exactly he said in response. Only that whatever it was made Killua go quiet.

Gon can pinpoint this as one of those times. A moment when Gon thought Killua was still there. Like always. Silent, trailing just behind. Maybe hurt. Maybe angry. But there.

Killua’s footsteps were maddeningly soft. Softer than a whisper, softer than the space between syllables. There had been times Gon had turned around, expecting him, and found nothing. A surprise. And then—like magic, Killua would appear, having trailed him the whole time, popping around a corner or appearing beside him with a grin.

That was loyalty, right? That was devotion. That was Killua.

So he didn’t turn around. He didn’t need to.

Even when Killua went quiet, even when he didn’t hear him move, Gon believed with all his heart that Killua was still there. Behind him. Waiting. Watching. Following. He had no reason to doubt it. Because Killua always stayed, even when he shouldn’t have. Through pain, through fear, through every impossible, selfish choice Gon made—Killua was there.

So Gon hadn’t noticed his absence. Not right away. Not when the room felt like it was collapsing under the weight of his grief, not when Pitou was kneeling and pleading and lying, not when he was burning with something so dangerous it felt like it might split him in two. He had no room for noticing anything but himself in that moment.

Not the quiver in Killua’s voice, nor the raw, desperate way he had said Gon’s name, as if it was the last time he’d ever speak it. Nor the quiet way he disappeared.

Gon had a goal. He had something important to do. Something that mattered more than feelings, more than consequences, more than the people trying to hold him back.

So he tells himself Killua was there.

That he stayed, like always. Waiting. Watching. Following.

That Gon didn’t turn around because he didn’t have to.

There are many days Gon thinks about “turning around.”

Not literally, of course. It’s not like Killua’s behind him now, just waiting to be seen. This isn’t a fairytale. It’s not a myth. There’s no trick of the gods, no cosmic riddle he can outsmart. Just time, and distance, and everything Gon refused to face when it would’ve mattered. But the urge is there.

To reach out. And apologize.

I’m sorry Killua, he would say, and he would mean it. I was so angry, I shouldn’t have pushed you away when we needed each other the most.

But then what? What if Killua says he doesn’t want to hear it? What if he says Gon’s too late? What if he says nothing at all?

It’s easier to live inside the story where Killua already forgave him. Where he understood that Gon was hurting, too. Gon had to make those choices. The pain justified the damage, or at least explained it.

Sometimes Gon imagines Killua walking just a little behind him even now—still quiet, still gentle, still loyal in his own strange, stubborn way. He imagines him there in the corner of his vision, just out of reach, and tells himself he doesn’t turn around because he doesn’t need to. Because Killua will catch up, like he always did.

But sometimes, late at night, when Gon’s too tired to lie to himself, he wonders if he didn’t turn around that day because deep down, he knew.

When he did, Killua wouldn’t be there. And that would be worse than anything else. Worse than any type of guilt or regret.

Because it would be final. It would mean that when he needed Killua most, he didn’t ask. And when Killua needed him, he didn’t listen.

And finally, when the time came to prove he saw him—not just as a shadow trailing after him, but as a person, as a boy, as Killua—he looked the other way.

So maybe he keeps walking forward, chin up, heart heavy, not because he’s brave—

Because if he doesn’t look back, if he keeps his eyes forward, towards his next adventure, next goal, next dream, Killua is still there behind him; waiting, watching, and following.

🤪🤪😋😋😝😝😝😁😁😁😁 the end!!! if u made it this far thank u for reading!!! I hope you enjoyed it ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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little doodle I forgot to post last month 😙

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my children are in suits!!! help prom szn is coming I need a dress and a date 💔

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I’m very sick with the flu right now, so that’s what inspired me haha. This is your reminder to get the flu shot 🥲 at least it snowed where I live ❄️

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throwback to my art from 8th grade and my first hxh phase 💔 (why was I better at art 4 years ago…)

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OMG I didn't know I could post videos on Tumblr

I spent a long time on this so I'm just posting it everywhere. Literally first time I tried animating and it's for these little lads

Can you believe I almost gave up on art before Killugon told me to pick up a pen again??? And now I draw them everywhere. There's no salvation.

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Headcanon what I think they’d look like in their 20s bc I miss them togashi pls get better and give me a time skip like Naruto Shippuden 🙏🙏🙏

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Okay, I just read the best fic OF MY LIFE, and I had to share, not kidding. If you haven’t read this, please do. I read it in the span of maybe 5 hours today? Worth every second.

There’s Killugon, but it’s more of a plot device than actual romance. (Killua isn’t even present in the whole 70k basically) It centers around Kite! (Gon is a main character, but he also is more of a plot device. He’s kinda just spiraling into madness the whole time) It’s a canon divergence—instead of Kite being left behind in the CAA, it’s Killua. Sooo good, I was hooked onto every word. Lots of MCD, though. But it was amazing! Give it a read!

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the cutie patooties are in space!!! ⭐️

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manifesting a ski trip with my friends this winter🎿❄️🗻

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sleepover 😴

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The besties r back 👯🩵💚

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It’s been a dry spell since school started and I haven’t touched procreate in ages so take some notability doodles from my bio notes 🤗

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wait guys I’m new to tumblr and crying I didn’t realize there’s a thing called PRIMARY and SECONDARY blogs?!??3!;?/2$ goodbyeeerrhrhfhdhshshhshz so now when I want to like or comment people won’t know it’s meeeee 😭

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where to next?

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how far are u in hxh 1999?

I’m still on the Hunter exam arc. Gon’s training to take hisokas badge! 🎣