coloring three whole official arts for a theme, legends only >_>

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Peter Solarz
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@kageranai
coloring three whole official arts for a theme, legends only >_>
gon and killua being hugged.
rockfists:
Gon still tries to get a peek of the other’s screen, who seemed to not mind Gon’s distraction as he could hear his character drifting and getting items. “Eeeh?! That’s not fair!” He goes back to his console, looking at the minimap in the corner – according to Killua,this should tell him where the other players are. He squinted, looking for Killua’s character, only to see he was almost one lap ahead of him.
“Killua!” He threw himself over the other’s back, trying to reach of the console. “You’re not even waiting for me! Tell me how you did that!”
“Don’t wanna. Life’s not fair, Gon.”
Adaptability was a trait that had been drilled into Killua since birth in preparation for any life-or-death situation at any given time – to him, yet another thing he had taken for granted until meeting Gon ( and not for an orthodox reason such as being able to survive the harsh trials they had gone through together. ) He appreciated it most in lighthearted moments like this; being able to keep up with the other’s atypical reaction to the jest and knowing unequivocally that if it were another person, Gon would have taken them entirely by surprise and gotten the console within the span of a few seconds. It was disgusting. It did his friend’s loyalty no justice. But it was there: a sickening, repulsive relief that there was no one to rival him, to displace him from their friendship. ( How long will that last? his conscience taunted. ) Killua would never acknowledge the ugly feeling that that particular train of thought produced. His roguish expression, exaggerated, certainly belied it well enough. The slight breath knocked out of him by Gon’s putting his entire weight on him was real — he was laughing, albeit breathlessly, long before he could collect himself to assume an air of exasperation . “ Get off of me! ” Even as he exclaimed, he was struggling to keep the console out of the other’s reach. Ultimately, he decided the best course of action was leaning forward as far as he could and — some unsightly slithering maneuvers later, had still not managed to shake Gon off. At least the console was very firmly in hand, though his character had lagged behind a little thanks to a certain disruption. Well, he was still winning by a landslide, since Gon had abandoned his console entirely.
“ You might have caught up to me if you concentrated on playing, you know!” he teases. As if ! “ Since you want to know so badly, I’ll tell you . . . if you manage to get my console before the game’s over. ” With that, he fakes turning his full attention to the game and ignoring the still-clinging Gon, making sure to not reveal any of the sweet - and to the less experienced gamer, baffling - tricks he had up his sleeve. Again, as if he’d let down his guard against any external counterattacks this far into the game. . .
This is supposed to be the part where I unburden myself. Where I learn to talk about what really matters to me. Where I expose my unsure soul to you and hope that you’re gentle with the softness there. I don’t know if it’s you or me but here I am running instead. It always comes back to this.
elisabeth hewer
rockfists:
「スゴイよ、キルア! やっぱりキルアは初挑戦でやったんだね!」
元殺し屋のところに寄って、捕まえた獲物をちゃんと見た。以前、ゴンは一人で漁った、その獲物ようにたくさんを捕まえたけど、一人であったのでキルアが誇りに思うで小さい魚を見せる瞬間の方がもっと楽しいと思った。
「ちょっと小さいけどね。」ゴンは笑顔でちゃらけた。
“ うーん , うーん, オレ スゲー だぜ ~ ” 最初で、キルアも単純な笑った, 彼に捕まえたの魚を誇りに思って。でも、ゴンのからかいなコメント聞いたそのあとで、あの銀髪の少年すぐに返答て抗議の意を示した。
“ 仕方ねえんだよ!小さいの魚がたくさんあるぜ;且大きの魚泳ぎは遅いぞう、だから餌はもう小っこい の魚が食った。”
rockfists replied to your post:
アイラブユーキルア!
本当のことだから全然恥ずかしくんない!
キミ ー やめとけ ー アァ。。。。!! わかった , わかったよ ! もう !
rockfists replied to your post:
大好き
お前、本当ハズイ事平気で言うよな。。。
killua ur my best friend !
S-Stop it,
rockfists replied to your post:
D O U S H I T A N O ? K I R U A
✓ ✓ Read 11:11pm.
rockfists answered your ask: ゴン ! (๑ↀᆺↀ๑)
killua nvr answers n gon’s left wondering forever: a tragedy
rockfists:
“Hey! Killua! How did you do that?” He looks over the other’s screen, leaving his kart to come to a halt barely after starting the race. With a hand on the other’s shoulder he tries to pull him closer to get a peek, thinking the answer would be on his screen.
He’d been found out pretty quickly, despite his attempts to keep his use of boosts as subtle as possible. Not that he expected any less from Gon, who - even by Killua’s standards - was insanely perceptive. Killua slides away from Gon’s grip, effectively hiding the screen from him ; he doesn’t bother hiding an impish grin further accentuated by the mischief-laden, teasing tone of voice he takes on.
“ Some things, you just have to learn yourself — ”
“ ゴン、見て! 魚を捕まえた! ”
波が鯨島の岩肌に、ざざっと打ち寄せた。木漏れ日が二人の少年を照らしていた; それらの周りに鳥が歌っていた。すべてが平和だった。
@rockfists.
killua
kurapika
HERAKLES see these wicked fists? how white my knuckles press through the skin. how itchy this lion hide against my back. how hot the savage sun. HERAKLES is there no respite? is there no shade to be found? ZEUS [offstage] my steadfast son, my lonely child. you must keep walking. HERAKLES i killed a nemean lion, father, but to keep walking? how monumental a task. i am tired. i am so, so tired. ZEUS [offstage] my blessed boy. my wondrous boy. please keep walking. HERAKLES i cannot, i cannot, i cannot. father! i cannot. father? father! HERA [entering stage left] wishful fool. as if he has the time to cheer you on. he’s a king and a god and what are you? what could you ever be to him? HERAKLES phantom endearments only? HERA your own mind against you. pitiable, pathetic. HERAKLES i will keep walking. i will keep walking. HERA as if you could. as if you could do anything so brave. HERAKLES am i not hero? have i not proven, again and again, the roaring red of my courage? HERA you stupid child. you foolish boy. you think muscle strength makes a man of you? makes a hero? you are nothing. HERAKLES i am something. i am something. i will always be something. HERA [disdainful] you are nothing and you will be nothing. for eons, forever. i swear it on these milk-white hands.
the greek tragedy i’ll never write [5/?], elisabeth hewer