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caimkairos · 4 years

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CHARACTER INTERVIEW

[Just gonna give a fair warning now: I'm not censoring greek mythology. Nothing graphic, but consider the fact that that this is greek mythology as your warning!]

▌real name: Persephone Kore.

▌single or taken: Technically taken, since she is married to, y’know, the God of the Underworld... but she isn’t exactly not looking for a divine divorce attorney either.

▌abilities or powers: I- is it cheating if I link the type up I did on her abilities?

▌eye color: A deep, earth brown. Normally she’s squinting or just vaguely tired, even with the fact that she doesn’t even get that sleep deprived.

▌hair color: A dark green, falling just past her shoulders, often tangled up, into, and by various plant life and bones.

▌family members: Demeter (mother/aunt), Zeus (father/uncle), Kronus (grandfather), Rhea (grandmother), Gaia (great-grandmother), Uranus (great-grandfather), Chaos (great-great ambiguous vortex), Poseidon (uncle), Hestia (aunt), Hera (aunt/step-mom), Hades (uncle/husband), Nyx (great grand aunt), Erebus (great grand uncle), Eros (great grand uncle), Tartarus (great grand uncle), Nemesis (first cousin twice removed), Thanatos (first cousin twice removed), Hypnos (first cousin twice removed), Atlas (second cousin), Prometheus (second cousin), Epimetheus (second cousin), Ares (half-sibling), Hermes (half-sibling/second cousin once removed), Apollo (half-sibling), Artemis (half-sibling), Hephaestus (half-sibling), Hebe (half-sibling), Athena (half-sibling), Dionysus (half-sibling), the Muses (half-siblings), the Sirens (half-nieces/former handmaidens), the Horae (half-siblings), Heracles (half-sibling), Helen (half-sibling), Castor (half-sibling), Polydeuces (half-sibling), Perseus (half-sibling), Argos (half-sibling), Iskandar (half-sibling), Asclepius (half-nephew), Orpheus (half-nephew), Deimos (half-nephew), Phobus (half-nephew), Harmonia (half-niece).

▌pets: Cerberus, the hound of the underworld, who would be friendly to those who entered, but vicious to those who attempted to leave... this includes Hermes, mail man of the gods that he is. Persephone also has a multitude of ‘pets’ that are made up of plants and various dead bodies and animals, like a not quite right Disney princess. It’s fine! They generally don’t bite. (At least, the ones that don't have mouths don't bite.)

▌something they don’t like: Her voice and perspective being ignored. People ignoring and especially outright dismissing her opinions. Extreme black/white thinking. Not being involved in decision making. Fireworks and lightning, and loud, unexpected noises.

▌hobbies/activities: Gardening and science experiments. Studying things and starting new projects is distracting, and she enjoys creating new life, but as more of an activity, she is the co-ruler of the underworld and even when summoned will take lengths to ensure her responsibilities are being fulfilled. She likes to paint as well, but isn't as fond about sharing this. (She needs to get more hobbies.)

▌ever hurt anyone before: Yes.

▌ever killed anyone before: Yes.

▌worst habits: Morbid and has an extremely lacking filter even at the best of times. She tends to assume cooperation and compromise that does not leave all sides petty and bitter is impossible. Nothing is stronger than the ego in Persephone's eyes, even love for someone else. Thus, if 'communication isn't possible', based on her very biased and jaded opinion, it just isn't considered as an option.

▌role models: Demeter and Athena originally, but as her life has gone on, it's shifted to her great-grandmother Gaia. To a certain extent, she looks to Hera and other queens for guidance as well.

▌sexual orientation: Grayasexual.

▌thoughts on marriage/kids: Bitter. Marriage is a forced contract, something she had no real choice in. Her husband is devoted, but he is still the man that stole her away and forced her entire life to change for his will. He could have been worse, he treated her as an equal… but she could never love him. Not while she was still a captive even as a queen. Children are likewise a bitter thought. She never had her own, and is unsure if they would have helped the situation… or just made it worse.

▌fears: The temporary. No roots may be set, eternally running back and forth between life and death. Being forced to finally speak her mind and have her thoughts exposed to the two she has grown bitter to. The idea that to be free, she would have to give up all that makes her, her.

▌style preferences: Practicality, function over form. Her messiness is half rebellion, half freedom, and half finally having stopped caring. Steampunk and sci-fi stuff are her favorites; Persephone found wacky goggles and glasses and immediately fell in love with them.

▌someone they love: That's complicated.

▌approach to friendships: Rather casual. She doesn't really change her approach depending on the person, and such honestly can be alternatively charming or tactless.

▌thoughts on pie: The lattice patterns are pretty… but besides that, they're eh.

▌favorite drink: Water. What?

▌favorite place to spend time at: The dying garden, the lively graveyard.

▌swim in the lake or in the ocean: The lake.

▌their type: The kind to respect her opinion and acknowledge it even if it doesn't get agreed with. An equal in some sort of way. People who make her, genuinely, laugh.

▌camping or indoors: Camping, without a second thought.

Tagged by: @caemthe (tHANK YOU!!!)

Tagging: I FEEL LIKE EVERYONE HAS DONE THIS BUT IF YOU HAVEN’T? GUESS WHAT? I’M TAGGING YOU NOW. IF YOU HAVE A MULTI-MUSE AND WANNA DO IT AGAIN? I’M TAGGING U SPECIFICALLY.

#bounce bounce back to me.dash games #lost in worlds demanding.persephone headcanons #((i havE SO MANY WORDS but internet is dead on my laptop so #((TYPED THIS MOSTLY UP ON MOBILE SO APOLOGIES IF THERE ARE FORMATTING ERRORS AS A RESULT #((but yes i may ramble some here so #((a common thing i see in modern retellings of the abduction of persephone is a strong leaning towards trying to give persephone agency #((which i understand completely! but... and no criticism to ppl who enjoy viewing the myths in these wayd #((you do you!#((but i think it can be... a bit odd? to change a story about a girl adbucted to be married to an older man (even discounting that he is #related to her as many tellings (thankfully kwndken) avoid this) as a good thing?#a common take that i see is to make hades a misunderstood bad boy especially because he was absolutely not the worst greek husband #not by a long shot!#he only has one possible story of cheating and specifically set out to make persephone his equal. we don't really see a lot of strife there.#which makes the desire to make it a perfectly happy relationship really understandable #and i am admittedly a big advocate for balancing the culture of the time a story was told and what implications it holds w/modern looks and #analysis of a story. a story can never truly be seperated COMPLETELY from the person telling it.#but this approach tends to make demeter into the villain #which... i do not quite agree with. at least in my rping of persephone.#i hope that doesn't upset anyone ahhhh #just needed to ramble about it idbdkenfken

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dibs4ever · 5 years

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The Next Generations view

My name is Nathan Wayne Grayson

My name has a meaning for it in all 3 pieces. Nathan after my maternal great grandfather, Wayne for my Adoptive Paternal grandfather and Grayson my dad's last name. I am the next generation of the legendary ”Flying Grayson’s”

The nickname the press has given me since I was an infant is ”The Prince Of Gotham” I despise my nickname, I don't want to be looked at like that. I just want to be looked at as a regular 14-year-old boy. I suppose the nickname spans from who my parents are Dick and Barbara Grayson-formally Gordon. The adoptive son of Bruce Wayne and the police commissioner daughter. As much as I’d like to be normal my life is anything but normal. Ignoring the fact of WHO my family is it’s WHAT we are that makes us abnormal. I am the protege to the Dark Night, the legendary Robin. I followed in my father’s and Uncles footsteps. I started my training at age 10 and officially became Robin at age 11. My abilities include acrobatics and extraneous computer skills plus all the other skills it takes to be accepted as a Bat.

Want a rundown of what makes up my family? Here it is,

Dick Grayson, my father AKA Nightwing. I don’t always patrol with Batman, I’ll occasionally patrol my hometown of Bludhaven with him. I love him and look up to him but people often compare me to him because of our resemblance and sometimes that makes for a lot of pressure. But I can't be all that much like him, from what I've been told my dad was quite the ladies man. I can't flirt worth anything, the only girls I can talk to I'm either rated to or are my friend. Otherwise, I turn into a klutzy, stuttering mess My dad is super overbearing though, he coddles my sister and me to no end. Mom says when my sister was a baby she arrived back from patrol one night to find him rocking her and singing ”I’ll be watching you” which isn't creepy at all (note the sarcasm). And he will randomly just hug me and kiss my cheeks, even when we’re being Robin and Nightwing.....I’m almost 15 that's gotta stop.

Barbara Grayson- My mother, we’re really close. I will secretly admit that I’m a “mamas boy” but I can’t help that we have a really great bond. Maybe it spans from the fact that for the first 8 weeks of my life it was just her and I. Long story short they thought my dad was dead but he was actually undercover and had no clue my mom was even pregnant. She thinks I’m innocent and her “precious baby boy” like I said, I’m almost 15 my parents gotta accept that I’m growing up. My mom used to be Batgirl then when I was 4 she was shot by the Joker and became paralyzed from the waist down which transitioned her to Oracle. When I was 10 she had a chip inserted on her spine that made her regain the use of her legs. She now alternates between going out as Batgirl and Oracle stuff but mainly does Oracle now.

Leah Grayson: My 10-year-old younger sister. She looks like my mom, red hair and all. She wants to become a vigilante but Dad’s against it. My mom seems to be on the fence though and if she decides it’s okay she’ll convince my dad to let her. She’s -spunky for lack of a better word. My dad says she reminds him of my Uncle Jason when he was young which might be why he doesn’t want her to be a vigilante. It also explains why she’s Uncle Jay’s favorite

Tim Drake, My Uncle Tim is the vigilante known as Red Robin, he’s cool and understands my love for tech, he's kinda over obsessed with everything. He likes to research everything to the max and is always prepared for the situation ahead of everyone else ,whatever it may be.

Stephanie Drake, AKA Spoiler. My sister is my Uncle Jason’s favorite and I’m my Aunt Steph’s favorite. For as long as I can remember she’s loved me. We have a good bond and she spoils me (no pun intended)

Juliet Drake- My baby cousin, she’s 1 and is my little princess. She has me wrapped around her little finger. She has dirty blonde hair and big blue eyes, I love spending time with her and can’t wait to see what she becomes.

Jason Todd AKA Red Hood, my Uncle Jason and I have a -I guess you would call it a normal relationship. We aren’t close but we aren’t .....not close. I know he’d kill someone if they ever messed with me in other words. He sure doe’s spoil my sister though, in his eyes she can do no wrong.

Cassandra Cain AKA Black Bat, Aunt Cass is cool cause she helps me sneak behind my parent's backs and get away with stuff. I should’ve mentioned my Uncle Jay does too occassionally.

Damian Wayne, AKA NightGoul Uncle Dami is....interesting. We’re only 13 years apart so he hates it when I call him “Uncle” even though he only refers to me as “Nephew” seriously I think he’s only ever called me by name a handful of times. I like to call him Uncle Damian just yo annoy him. Dad says he’s calmed down a lot since when he first met him. I can’t imagine how emotionless he used to be cause he’s pretty emotionless now. But he’s also one of the main ones who trained me to be Robin so I owe him that

Helena Wayne: AKA the new Huntress shes technically my aunt but she’s only 2 years older then me and I have never called her “aunt” she’s more of the older sibling I’ll never have but she’s fun and I’m sure as I get older we’ll have some good times.

Selina Kyle-Wayne, Aka Catwoman I called her Grandma once when I was 5 and she gave me a death glare that gave me nightmares for a week so I never did it again. We kinda do our own thing. She has started to socialize with me more now that I’m older.

Bruce Wayne, Aka Batman Everyone thinks he’s so tough but he’s not. Supposedly he’s completely different with me then he was with my dad and uncles. We’re close, how can we not be? He’s Batman and I’m Robin. He literally buys me anything I want so when I turn 16 it’s going to be epic.

Mark and Melanie West- They aren't family but they are my best friends. They’re twins and we’re the same age. We’re in 9th grade at Gotham Academy. Our dads (mainly my dad) like to call us the ‘Big 3’. Mark is an Archer he’s the protege to the Green Arrow. He’s my best friend and basically the brother I’ll never have, we literally share everything with each other and keep no secrets. Melanie inherited her fathers abilities and is a speedster she is the protege to The Flash. She’s one of my best friends too. We actually kissed a few months back. It wasn’t anything romantic, she did it more as a favor for me, it’s a long story and we swore never to speak of it-I kinda want to talk about it though.

So there you have it, a little run down of my crazy family from my perspective. I also have a load of ”honorary” Aunts and Uncles. Like Wally, Artemis, and Roy who has a daughter named Lian that is like an older cousin to me. There's also my dad's childhood friend Donna, my moms best friend Dinah my grandpa's ”frenemie” Uncle Clark. His son Jon is my Uncle Dami’s really good companion they go on alot of missions together. I could go on and on. It's probably not what most would consider a normal family buts its mine and I wouldn't have it any other way.

#dick grayson #barbara gordon #batfam au #batfam fanfiction #batfamily headcanons

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lilacsolanum · 5 years

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I posted this as a reply to a post a while ago, but I wanted to repost it as it’s own meta. I often see people saying “We don’t REALLY know how Rachel and Jake are related” “Rachel’s last name isn’t necessarily Berenson” and I’m always like “NO. NO. NO PEOPLE. IT’S CALLED CONTEXT CLUES.” SO! We know Jake’s mom isn’t blood related to Rachel because of #31, when it’s directly stated: <You will not attend this burial ceremony, Rachel?> Ax asked. “No, I’m not really related,” Rachel said. “Grandpa G was Jake’s great-grandfather on his mother’s side. We’re related on his father’s side.” <Ah. And that is important?>

And then there’s #21, which I guess is technically unclear, but!

“Why can’t they stay with Rachel’s family?” Tom asked. “They’re cousins, too.” “Well, since Rachel’s mom and dad got divorced, Ellen and George haven’t felt like they were all that close to Rachel’s mom.” “Lucky Rachel,” Tom muttered.

Hilarity of Tom randomly referring to his Aunt Naomi’s family by one random daughter who just happens to be a protagonist of the series we’re reading aside, this is inferring that Naomi isn’t blood related to the rest of the Berensons. I mean, it’s not clear, maybe they thought Dan was just the bee knees and peaced out on their blood sister when she left him or something, or Naomi did something terrible in the divorce that estranged her blood siblings, or Applegate and Grant had a really complex family dynamic going on that never made it to the page. But I think the simplest solution is Naomi is not blood related to the Ellen/George family and the relationship is now awkward, but might still be on good terms with the Steve/Jean family because their children go to school together. There’s also MM4. These are some problematique quotes involving racism and anti semitism, get ready!

I had long suspected that Cassie might have slightly radical tendencies. A lot of blacks did. Blacks and a lot of Jews, although not in my family. My dad was a certified POE - Patriot of Empire. (Jake) <And the Holocaust,> Rachel said. <Holocaust?> <The Germans, the Nazis under Hitler, murdered six million Jews - men, women, and children> Obviously Rachel had misspoken. <These Jews were an opposing army?> <No. Jews are a religion, or a race, I guess. My dad’s Jewish. Mostly the Jews in the Holocaust were Germans and Poles. You know, civilians. Normal people. Others, too: Gypsies, gays, handicapped people. They were taken to camps and shot or starved or killed with poison gas. Children killed in their mothers’ arms.> Ooooh that racist alternate AU chapter opening. Shiver. The whole Rachel and Jake being Jewish thing has always read to me as a random decision Applegate and Grant made halfway through the series that they did not bother to internalize or research, and I am thrilled to see people throw that garbage out the window and restructure these families with more sensitivity. In fanon, both Rachel and Jake are typically portrayed with Judaism sewn into every part of their being (well, at least, my personal fave fanons), and I love it. However, in canon, it seems to be implied that Jake considers himself and his whole family Jewish (even though he has Christmas lights in the attic and I believe I’ve read that Grandpa G’s funeral does not address Jewish burial practices, I am unfortunately ignorant on the subject myself, anyway SOLID work Applegrant), but Rachel specifically says only her father is Jewish, thus cementing that Rachel’s father is blood related to Jake’s father, thus cementing that her last name is most likely Berenson. Of course, everyone is entitled to their own headcanons. Perhaps the girls were born out of wedlock and have Naomi’s last name, perhaps they were given Naomi’s last name for whichever reason, perhaps the family name is hyphenated. Regardless, yes, Rachel and Jake are related through their fathers. Thus concludes my essay on why Rachel’s last name is absolutely Berenson, thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

#animorphs meta

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antagonistchanremade · 5 years

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Fun little tidbit about me: I am technically a bastard.

Like, my parents weren’t married yet when I was born, though it was soon enough afterwards that I have no memory of their wedding. Either of them, because another fun fact, they got married twice, both times before my first birthday. IIRC, they didn’t do it “right” the first time so they needed to redo.

However, this was not an “emergency shotgun wedding” situation, because while my parents were not married yet, they were engaged well before I was even conceived. My parents were just engaged for a long-ass time. Like, three years, I think. The only reason they got engaged was because my Dad’s hyper-traditional grandparents (particularly his grandma, his grandpa (who actually just died a couple months ago) was more laid-back) were bugging him about getting married, and he and Mom were pretty serious about each other, so they decided to just make it official, if for no other reason than to shut my great-grandparents up. But mostly just for that reason.

Actually, there are a couple of interesting patterns about my parents’ families.

First Pattern: My parents are the eldest child, with a younger sibling who I’ve never met because they’re dead, and an even younger sibling who was a “replacement”, for lack of a better word. The dead sibling was of the opposite gender to the previous kid(s), and the “replacement” sibling was of the same gender as the dead one.

On my Dad’s side of the family, Grandma and Grandpa had Dad, and then my Aunt Barbara, who was intended to be their second child for a full nuclear family, but she died when she was only a few hours old due to a birth defect, so they had my Aunt Amanda.

On my Mom’s side of the family, Nana and Papa had Mom, and then my Aunt Tracy, and then intended to finish things with my Uncle Joshua, but Joshua died when he was six months old due to SIDS (Sudden Infant Death Syndrome), so they had my Uncle Seth.

Second Pattern: My grandparent pairs are on opposite ends of the political spectrum, and my grandmother is the more radical one while my grandfather is the more moderate one. Also, my grandmother’s family is also more radical, but in the opposite direction, while my grandfather’s family is more moderate. Also, I’ve interacted far more with my grandmother’s family than my grandfather’s. And yet, my grandfather’s family has influenced my name more than my grandmother’s, since, you know, in traditional marriages the woman takes the man’s name.

My Dad’s parents are liberals. My Grandma is very liberal, she’s easily the most accepting of my grandparents when it comes to LGBT stuff (I still haven’t come out to my Mom’s parents, and my Grandpa has largely ignored my transition as much as he can). Meanwhile, my Grandpa claims to be a democrat, but just barely; again, he’s largely ignored my transition (basically the only acknowledgement he’s made of it since I came out in 2016 was when he invited me to hang out with him a couple weeks ago and promised not to “criticize my life choices”), and he vocally disagrees with the Black Lives Matter movement. However, while my Grandma is my most liberal grandparent, her extended family, the Keeners, is the most conservative branch my family has (and is also by far my least favorite; while there are some people in that branch I don’t mind so much, I’ve tried to make it clear to my parents, Aunt Amanda, and grandparents that I’m kinda going out of my way to avoid the Keeners these days). However, my Grandfather’s family, the Clevelands, I’ve only interacted with so much throughout my life (also, I’ve mentioned a few times that I’m sorta related to Jeff Plate, the drummer of Trans-Siberian Orchestra? It’s through the Clevelands). In fact, I only met my great-uncle Robert in 2015, whereas I met most of my other great-uncles and great-aunts when I was so young I don’t even remember meeting them, they’ve just been permanent fixtures in my life. Speaking of that, my Grandpa is the only grandparent I have who doesn’t have three siblings, he only has two, Robert and Al. He’s also the only grandparent who only has same-gender siblings.

Meanwhile, my Mom’s parents are conservatives. As a bonus, my Mom’s sister, the aforementioned Aunt Tracy, is possibly my most conservative relative, possibly even beating out the Keeners. My Nana is very conservative, though not quite as conservative as some of the Keeners are, and definitely not quite as conservative as her daughter. Meanwhile, my Papa? My Mom likes to talk about how much of a political paradox he is, because the social issue he cares most about is abortion. He’s passionately pro-life. However, the issue that he cares second most about is prison reform- he intricately understands how abusive, racist, and counterproductive America’s prison system is, and what should be done to fix it. So he’s... a bit of a wild card. I know how Nana would react if I came out to her- she wouldn’t disown me or anything, but she wouldn’t respect my decision either, it’d be very much a “I love you even if you’re a heathen” situation. I know because that’s how she treats both of her gay brothers. Papa? I’m honestly not sure how he’d react. And it’s Papa that my last name, Gilchrist, comes from. However, speaking of, the Gilchrist family, the one that I share a name with, is the branch of the family I know the least intimately. I never knew either of those great-grandparents, and I honestly can’t keep track of who’s who in that family. The main thing I know? My Papa is the youngest child of four, and his three sisters have an... interesting relationship. In particular, my great-Aunt Cricket is a, shall we say, interesting individual. I won’t get into the details, but there’s a LOT of drama regarding her among the Gilchrists, and that drama has even seeped into the rest of my family, even on my Dad’s side. Meanwhile, my Nana’s family, the Hancocks, are probably the most left-wing branch of my family (though, since I don’t know the Gilchrists or Clevelands that well, they could be hiding more radically left-wing ideas than I know), and I also absolutely adore the Hancocks. As I mentioned, my Nana has two gay brothers, my great-uncle Timothy (who’s the great-uncle/aunt who I live the closest to, so he sometimes joins us for Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner, and we’ve made a tradition since 2015 of going to see the new Star Wars movies with him) and my great-uncle Patrick, a flight attendant and lawyer (which is an awesome pair of jobs) who lives with his husband Randy in Texas. I also like the other Hancocks, too. I always spend Christmas with my Dad’s parents and Aunt Amanda (though, since Grandma and Grandpa just got divorced last year and I’m growing up, I’m not sure how much longer that tradition will last), but some years (although it is, to my sadness, getting increasingly uncommon), we also have “Hancock Christmas”, which isn’t quite on Christmas but generally in the season, where as much of the Hancock family as possible gathers somewhere and has a few days of celebration.

#this post ended up getting crazy long #long post #in case you couldn't tell this was a 'i took my meds so i feel like rambling about random stuff' post

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decembercamiecherries · 7 years

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Chapter 3 title: You make the darkness less dark

Chapter 3 word count: 2941

Summary:

They’re together, but not alone, and that’s all that really matters.

I'm sorry that this chapter is a little late, I just moved into my new dorm room for the school year and the semester already started off with a bang if you know what I mean. The next chapter will be out on time, though! Can’t Pretend is my song rec for chapter 3 ^-^

Bless @softkillua for beta-ing this and everything else I write. He truly is amazing ^^ Thank you again also for the support for this fic! I hope you all enjoy this chapter~

Zeus’ Cabin is bigger than Poseidon's, but just as empty. Just as cold.

Gon and Killua shove and push two of the beds together in the center room, right underneath the multi-colored ceiling of kaleidoscope mosaics. They watch the tiled clouds and sunbeams above their heads give way to splashes of stars and slivers of moonlight, and Gon feels like he’s floating in space with only Killua’s quiet breathing to keep him company.

“I’m not the son of Hades.” Killua’s voice shakes as he speaks. He sounds too small and too quiet, so different than the snappish boy Gon met in that first capture-the-flag game. “I’m not, Gon. I swear.”

Gon squeezes his friend’s trembling fist on top of cool, creamy sheets. “I know.”

“I’m not cursed, either. That- all that stuff, with the lightning and the monsters and the snake...none of it was my fault, Gon. I was trying to stop the monsters from breaking through the barrier that day, and those guys were teasing the snake on purpose. Of course it striked back. And that first day at camp was an accident. I never meant to- to hurt anyone. I never wanted that.”

“I know,” Gon repeated, sure and firm.

A scoff. “How?! How can you possibly know that? You’ve barely been here two months, you can’t just-”

“Because I know you, Killua,” Gon says simply. He turns his head sideways to meet Killua’s wide, blue gaze. “And you wouldn’t lie about that sort of thing.”

Killua visibly swallows. “You're naive.”

“Maybe. But not when it comes to stuff like this. You’re my friend, Killua, so I trust you.”

Killua buries his face into the pillow, right next to Gon’s ear, and Gon feels more than hears his shuddered inhale-exhale. Gon rubs his thumb over one of Killua’s bony knuckles, waits for Killua’s breathing to slow. Somewhere off in another room, lightning flashes and thunder echoes.

“Zeus is my heritage,” Killua whispers a few dozen heartbeats later. “But he’s not my father.”

Gon’s brow puckers at that. “What do you mean?”

Killua raises his head and starlight bangs fall into piercing azure eyes. “I’m adopted. I have a mother, a father, siblings...even a grandfather. And maybe a great-grandmother, but I’m still not sure if she’s a lie my older brother made up or not.”

Surprise washes over Gon like a wave. He’s never heard of any other Camp-Half Blood resident with two parents, before. Let alone an entire family! He only had Aunt Mito and one grandmother, but they had always meant everything to him.

“Where are they?” he asks, because he knows why he left his family but not why Killua left his.

Killua drops his gaze to the pillow. He murmurs while tracing shadows into the cotton with his free hand, “They’re still alive, if that’s what you mean.”

It wasn’t, but that answer is more telling than anything else Killua could have said.

“My parents are demigods, like you and me,” Killua explains. “They...collect other demigods who’ve been abandoned by their biological family. Or, that’s what they claim at least. I’m not sure I believe them anymore.”

“So,” Gon says as his mind tosses and turns. He doesn’t understand what Killua is trying to tell him so he keeps talking, hopes Killua will guide him through it like he does with ancient greek poetry and history and math. “You’re not related to your mother and father? Or any of your siblings?”

Killua shakes his head. “No. Well, I mean, my dad and grandpa are both sons of Zeus so I’m technically related to them. Distantly. But my brothers all have different godly parents. Illumi’s the son of Hypnos, Kalluto’s the son of Hermes...Mom and Dad try to get a range when it comes to adopting kids. The more different we are from each other, the more powerful our family becomes.”

“They use you,” Gon realizes as ice sizes his heart.

Killua nods. “The Zoldycks adopt demigods to raise as their own, to increase their influence. They don’t take us in because they love us or want to help us. They’re only interested in our raw godly abilities, and how they can sculpt it to benefit themselves.”

Killua glances up at the changing ceiling, face blank and stony and empty, and something deep in Gon’s chest aches at the sight.

“The Zoldycks are bad people, Gon,” Killua says. “So I left before they had the chance to use my abilities for themselves. And I’m never, ever going back.”

“Can I ask you something?”

Killua laughs under his breath, like Gon’s just told a funny joke, and tightens the straps at Gon’s shoulders until it fits snugly against his shirt. “Why’re you asking me that for? You always do, anyway.”

Gon thinks that’s a bit unfair. “That’s only because I know you don’t mind answering them.”

“Oh, and you know that because you know me soooo well, huh?”

“I do!”

Killua raises a bemused eyebrow. “We’ve known each other for two months, Gon. That’s not enough time to know someone-”

“It definitely is!” Gon argues. “Time doesn’t determine a relationship, Ki-llu-a.”

Killua folds his arms over his chest- gracefully, because everything Killua does is smooth and fluid and dance-like, and Gon can never tell if it’s on purpose or if that’s just Killua- and says, “Okay. I’ll take the bait. What determines a’ relationship’ in your oh-so-wise opinion, son of Poseidon?”

Gon doesn’t pause to think before he’s blurting out, “Connection.”

Killua blinks, clearly not expecting Gon’s words. “Connection?”

Gon bobs his head. “Yeah. Connection. You can meet someone and be friends in minutes, as long as the connection’s there. But you can also know someone else for years, and if you have nothing that connects you, you won’t care about each other at all!”

Killua nods slowly. Gon can see his friend’s thoughts clicking together like puzzle pieces behind beautiful, transparent blue eyes as he says, “I...guess I can get that.”

“See! It makes sense!”

“In a mixed up way, yeah, it does. And you’re trying to say that- that you and me, we have that? A connection?”

Killua’s cheeks are dusted pink and Gon’s heart does a strange little flip. His skin tingles as he hums happily, “Mhm! Definitely! We became friends right away, didn’t we?”

Killua ducks his head, blocking his red face from Gon’s view. “I-I guess. A-Anyway-” Killua is suddenly shoving Gon’s arms up and out of the way so he can adjust the buckles along his ribs, “-what was it you were going to ask me? You had something you wanted to say but then you got sidetracked.”

“Hey!” Gon protests with a pout. “You were the one who me distracted, Killua!”

There’s a smile tucked away in the lilt of Killua’s voice as he says, “You keep telling yourself that.”

“Killua-”

“Your question, Gon.”

Oh. Right.

“Well, I was just wondering,” Gon starts and Killua looks up at him through moonbeam lashes. “What did your family do to you that made you want to leave? You said the other night that they used you.”

Killua hands freeze on Gon’s armor. He doesn’t say anything for several seconds and worry twists Gon’s stomach into knots.

“Killua?” Gon starts, hesitant. “Are you-”

“Gon,” Killua interrupts and his voice is strained. “I...I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He doesn’t understand. “Why not?”

“My childhood wasn’t exactly pretty, Gon. It wasn’t like yours with the sun and the sand and the waves. Mine was much...darker. Lonelier. Are you sure you want to hear all of that?”

There’s no hesitance in his answer: “Yes.”

Gon wants to know everything about Killua. All of his good parts and bad...everything that makes Killua Killua. He wants to know it all.

He wants to prove to Killua that he can see every part of his best friend, and still be at his side at the end of it all.

Killua finally straightens. There’s a look of resignation in the downward curve of his lips when he says, “You’re not going to let this go until I tell you, huh?”

“Nope!” Gon says and makes a popping sound with the last syllable.

Killua lets out a long breath, pushes his hand through silver bangs. “Okay. I’ll tell you, then. After we finish this practice match and take a shower.”

Gon’s mouth falls open. “Wha- Killua! That’s not-”

“Yes, Gon, it is fair. This is the last thing we have to do before the weekend, right? Once we’re done, I can tell you everything without being interrupted.”

Ah, Gon thinks and his heart flutters again. There it was: their connection. Killua knew Gon well enough to know he wouldn’t stop asking Killua questions once they got started. He was making Gon wait now, so he wouldn’t have to later.

“I’ll make sure to defeat you quickly, then,” Gon says and Killua’s eyes flash dangerously.

“I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you, Freecss.” Killua steps back and slides his metal sword out of his holder. He swishes it through the air expertly-gracefully- and Gon’s chest swells.

“After all,” Killua continues smoothly. “You’ve yet to beat me in combat once this entire summer.”

Gon smiles. “Maybe. But-” and here he smiles, a dare in the curve of his grin and Killua’s eyes are so bright and so incredibly blue, they draw Gon closer like the moon pulls the sea-

“-I’m a quick study. And I never back down from a challenge.”

Gon beats Killua, but it takes an hour and a half and costs him several bruises, three broken fingers and a black eye.

Killua’s a bit better off, but not by much. They’d gone all out and Mister Wing only gives them the magically-healing Ambrosia after making them swear not to fight again without a proper chaperone.

Gon’s Ambrosia tastes like orange juice and Aunt Mito’s cooking and his grandmother’s cookies. It’s also strangely sweet, like syrup or chocolate. He doesn’t understand why it tastes like that, exactly- Ambrosia is supposed to taste like your favorite food but Gon’s never been a fan of anything overly sweet before-

But Killua is fulfilling his promise, talking about a cold home with butlers and monstrous dogs and a family legacy he left behind, so Gon quietly listens and pushes the strange flavor to the back of his mind.

The first thing he learns is this: that Killua was right, his childhood was nothing like Gon’s.

Killua’s childhood is scattered with various tests and experiments to reveal which of Zues’ powers were reflected in him. His ivory skin is dotted with scars from whips and burns from electricity. His body is only as flexible as it is now from years upon years of stretching and pulling and pushing his muscles until he was too weak to even walk.

Killua is no stranger to pain, but learned to isolate himself from it, how work around it, and keep going even when his body was broken and bruised. He stopped crying from pain so long ago he can’t remember the last time he shed tears and they were real.

He was three when his parents named him heir to a family name he would grow to hate.

He was six when he successfully completed the mission to steal Zeus’ lightning bolt from under the God’s nose.

He was eight when he finally decided he’d had enough, and had just turned ten by the time he packed his bags, fought his mother and brother to escape his home, and never looked back.

He was eleven when the nightmares started.

“Killua!” Gon pins down pale, thin wrists as Killua thrashes in his bed. He keeps trying to twist his way out of Gon’s grip but Gon holds on tight and won’t let go. If he does, Killua will keep tossing and turning; he will end up hurting himself somehow, Gon just knows it. “Killua! Killua, wake up, please, please, Killua-!”

“NO!!!” Killua jolts into consciousness with a heaving gasp. His eyes are hazy, unfocused. They flicker back and forth- across the ceiling, from wall to wall. He’s seeing things Gon can’t see. There are demons in his mind Gon can’t touch, and it makes his heart fracture like glass.

“Killua,” he whispers, voice cracking on the single word. Some of the light filters back into Killua’s gaze at the sound and Gon nearly cries when he finally focusses on Gon’s face.

Killua slumps back into cool sheets with a shuddering breath. “Gon,” he sighs, more air than sound.

Gon’s eyes prickle and burn. “Killua,” he says, just as soft, just as quiet.

For a long minute, they just stare at each other. Gon is crouched over Killua, his hands pressing Killua’s arms to the mattress on either side of his silver locks. Killua looks up at him with dark circles under his eyes and skin so white he looks like a porcelain doll.

“Are you okay?” Gon forces himself to ask even though his throat is tight and his heart quivers.

Killua squeezes his eyes shut. “No.”

“Was it...did you have nightmares, again?”

Killua nods, starlight curls shifting around his head into some sort of uneven halo, and Gon feels a sharp pang straight through his chest.

The nightmares were a natural part of Killua’s life, Killua had told him. They started nearly a year after he escaped to Camp-Half Blood; at least once a month he would wake up in cold sweat, shivers cascading down his spine and a blinding headache just above his eyes.

He still suffered from them for years later. But they’re even worse now, in both intensity and occurrence. They’d gotten so bad in recent weeks that Killua almost avoided sleeping altogether. He’d actually fallen asleep on Gon while they were standing guard during the last capture-the-flag game and that was when Gon decided:

Killua would stay with him, from now on. In Poseidon’s Cabin. There he could calm Killua down when he woke up screaming in the middle of the night; he could help convince him that his dreams were just dreams, that they weren’t real.

But he never imagined they would be this bad.

Gon swallows thickly. There’s a lump in his throat and worry gnaws at him from the inside out. He feels like bugs are crawling across his skin, a prickling sensation at the back of his neck like someone is watching him.

But there’s no one here. It’s just him and Killua on Gon’s too-big bed with the low rumbling of waves drifting in through the open windows. They’re together, but not alone, and that’s all that really matters.

“Killua,” Gon whispers again, to distract himself. Midnight blue eyes flutter open and lock on Gon’s brown-gold. He looks exhausted and worn out. Gon’s never seen Killua this pale before and it makes his chest tighten until he can barely breathe.

Killua’s fingers uncurl from their fists. He murmurs, “I’m sorry, Gon.”

Gon blinks. “What for?”

Killua turns his head to the side, towards the window. “For...this. For keeping you up. For bothering you.”

“Killua.” Gon slides his hands up and into Killua’s. He interlocks their fingers- alabaster white standing out in stark contrast to bronze tan- and squeezes once. “You don’t have to apologize for something like that. I want to help you; you’re not bothering me at all.”

Killua stiffens at Gon’s unexpected touch. He swallows thickly, and it’s only because Gon is watching him so closely that he notices the faint blush dusting his friend’s cheeks.

“But-” Killua starts.

“No buts!” Gon says firmly and Killua’s mouth shuts with a click. “You’re my friend, Killua! My best friend! You could never be a burden. If I was the one suffering from nightmares, wouldn’t you do the same thing for me?”

“...yes. Of course I would.”

Gon beams. “See? It’s okay, Killua. I’m gonna be here for you no matter what. That’s what best friends do!”

Killua finally looks up at Gon again. There’s a raw, shining emotion in his blue gaze when he croaks out, “Is that what we are? Best friends?”

“Of course we are,” Gon responds immediately. “You’re- Killua, you make me happy! Really, really, really happy! I love spending time with you. Don’t you like spending time with me?”

Warmth blossoms in Gon’s heart as Killua’s fingers curl around his. “Y-Yeah. I do.”

“Then that’s all that matters! How could we not be best friends?”

Killua’s lips quiver. There’s a sharp tug at his hands and Gon suddenly finds himself crushed to Killua’s chest. Gon automatically wraps his arms around Killua’s waist, a happy sigh escaping from his lips and nuzzles against Killua’s shoulder.

Killua’s hands are cool and smooth on Gon’s shoulder blades, but Gon is warm in his best friend’s embrace. Killua smells like strawberries and chocolate, like the salty breeze rolling off the waves just beyond Poseidon's Cabin. He smells and feels like home, and Gon wishes he could stay in Killua’s arms forever.

“Thank you,” Killua whispers into Gon’s hair. It’s quiet but heartfelt and Gon smiles into the curve of Killua’s neck.

“Anything for you, Killua.”

Weeks pass before Killua tells Gon what he dreams of, what exactly it is that terrifies him.

In his dreams he’s chained and drowning in an inky pool, a swirling black hole of darkness without light or stars. He dreams of needles and an empty voice and flat eyes and oily-black strings of hair-

He dreams of lightning exploding from his chest, spreading through his veins and cracking across his skin-

Shattering his body and soul in a single spark.

#killugon #hunterxhunter #storm the gods #stg chp3 #dc writes #killua zoldyck #gon freecss #pjo au #pjo #au

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