#pollux flash

[firelance2361]

Pollux the Paradox

Just a fun redesign I did of the Flash villain Pollux from the 90’s series. Honestly, this one turned out better than I expected.

Hope you like it!

[rynmaru]

Happy Birthday, Echo…

[orange-s-mario]

hmmm

[alphawolfice1989]

The flash and  its evil doubleganger

https://www.instagram.com/p/Cto06Ats4mW/

[violetasteracademic]

On Mate Behavior: Elriel

So, when it comes to Azriel's mate behavior, I would say the most commonly discussed point (which I definitely agree with) to *disprove* that Azriel displays any mate behavior towards Gwyn is his overall calm demeanor and focus on Eris when the Valkyrie are kidnapped in the middle of the night and dropped into the Blood Rite.

However, there is another example that additionally highlights the lack of "mate behavior" in the bonus chapter, and I truly don't see it come up that often, though I think it is even more telling!

When he meets Gwyn's gaze, and that bloody memory of when he first "met" her (if you would like to call that their meeting) flashes, he is otherwise completely unruffled. He simply reflects on Gwyn's growth, and two seconds later, is snorting and having an easy, playful conversation.

While this certainly points to their comfortability and fun banter that they share, it does not scream *mate behavior.*

ToG and CC spoilers ahead

I think about Rowan seeing Aelin's ruined back for the first time, and being so overcome with anger at discovering the violence that had been enacted on her that he took to the skies to get control of his violent instincts:

I think of Cassian in his bonus chapter with Nesta- going into a rage as he smelled Nesta's fear while she recalled Tomas's attempted assault. He would have gone to kill him right then, I have no doubt:

I think of Ruhn hating Lidia, being sick over discovering the female he had fallen for was The Hind. And yet, when Pollux lays a hand on her, he was ready to rip out his throat for hurting Lidia. He couldn't understand how he could hate her and need her and want to kill for her at the same time:

So I do think it's interesting that in comparison to the to the other mated males who get a POV and an inside look into their heads while they reflect on trauma their mates have been through (even before knowing they are mates, which is the case in all three of these examples) they are completely unhinged. And yet we get this pointed moment where Azriel actively reflects on Gwyn's trauma, the absolute horrors that had been done to her and... nothing. A snort, and a little bit of form correction and teasing.

Meanwhile in this same book, Elain gets called boring and Azriel's shadows are like hoe who do we need to mf-ing end right tf now:

Azriel has already established that he believes the Cauldron could be wrong. While I personally disagree that there is foreshadowing to Azriel and Gwyn being mates, even in trying to give it a fair and unbiased look and say okay- could they be mates? I still wind up drawing the conclusion that even if they are, it would mean as little to Azriel as Elain's mating bond currently means to her.

I am personally super open minded about whether or not Azriel and Elain are true mates. I think a reveal that they are could be lovely. I also think them choosing each other above all, even fate, would be lovely.

But there is simply no denying that these two already have a set up plotline of questioning the Cauldron, and the only two characters *acting* like mates in this scenario are Az and Elain.

As always, I am Lucien and Gwyn positive even though I ship Elriel, so be kind in the comments! But I just really don't see how this could possibly play out any other way. Azriel has had too many on page opportunities, even from his personal POV, to display mate behavior towards Gwyn and there is nary a lick. It's just... not how a lead up to a mate reveal typically goes. So the pure, undiluted facts are that even if you think Sarah is a "fated mate" author above all, she is not treating these characters as she usually does. And that is noteworthy.

Thank you for joining me on this dissertation!

[astrobuggy]

!! Tsams/Tlaes headcannons !!

Bc I'm bored 😃👍

○ The Astrals don't bleed

● If the Astrals ever blush, they glow brighter

○ The Astrals can regenerate their body parts if they ever get cut off

● Earth and Pollux have played dress up (with tea, snacks, makeup, and nail polish) once, and Castor walked in (yes, he was dragged to join in the little function, he lost a bit of dignity that day)

○ He may not seem like it, but Castor has developed a sweet tooth while his time on Earth (the planet), so has Pollux, but she's vocal about it

● The astrals don't have a reflection it's just light, flash bang 💥 (Lunar saw this with Gemini, and he couldn't see for a while)

○ Pollux has hello kitty heelys (I got this from someone else btw)

● Lunar is Castors first ever friend (They both got too attached)

○ Castor has abandonment issues (or detattachment issues, idk how to spell it🤷‍♀️)

● Solar drinks black coffee (the strong taste wakes him up)

○ Earth smells like lavender

● Earth and Lunar have a gift exchange every time something terrible happens (which is every single day 😭)

○ Lunars' love language is physical touch, gift giving, and words of affirmation (He has given gifts to Earth, Sun, Moon, Castor, Pollux, and Monty)

● The Astrals can express emotions they just don't know the word of said feelings, so they don't know how it feels and what word links to said emotion (so they think of themselves as expressionless beings)

○ Moon likes Earth cooking and baked treats (he can't get enough dawg 😭🙏)

● Nexus is going through his emo phase

○ Gemini (Castor and Pollux obv) are touch starved (they are a space being who hasn't gotten a hug for the years they've been alive for and are being revealed to touch the first time in their life and once they do they don't know what they're feeling or what it is, btw Lunar was the first one who hugged them)

● Lunar makes it his mission to spend more time with Pollux and Castor

○ Sun smelled like mangos and cherries at the beginning, but that started to fade now he smells like mangos, cleaning supplies, and cats

● Sun had a favorite kid in the daycare (after July 16th, they never showed up again. Wonder where they went!)

○ Dazzles real name was Delilah

● Whenever Jack sees someone eat pumpkin pie he holds himself

○ Castor has heard Lunar say his lovey dovey comments about Gemini, Pollux, and himself, now it's a daily occurrence to him (he glows a bit brighter every time this happens)

● Lunar has written love letters to Gemini, Pollux, and Castor. They're separated, and he writes what he likes about each and every one of them and his favorite moments with them. He doesn't give these to them he hides them away in the closet (Castor knows about them)

○Earth has a plushie collection (she takes care of them like as if they were her kids)

● Earth ice skates and is pretty damn good at it 👌

○ The Gemini twins like to look at Lunars eyes; Pollux is more vocal about while Castor just watches on the side lines, taking a peak once in a while

This was way too damn long 😒 Most of these were the Astrals or Lumini 😭😭 Sorry! I just have more of a preference 😪

[in-class-daydreams]

Talking Terms (Sebastian Sallow x Reader)

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x Fem!Reader Synopsis: Things are awkward between you and Sebastian after everything that happened with his uncle. You haven't spoken since before the holidays and this is the first time you've seen each other since the incidents. Your life is progressing with or without him, but you'd be a fool to deny that parts of you - all the important ones - remain with him. Notes/TW: Rich people. Also you're a member of the Black Family in this one. No use of YN. Unedited tho, ya girl ain't got attention span like that.

While families and lineage tended to hold a lot of weight where you lived, and everyone who wasn’t part of the main circle wished they were, money and status weren’t nearly worth the trouble, in your opinion. Late nights at tiresome soirees among the other pure-blood families tittering about how pure their blood is or whatever it is they talk about. You play the game, of course, just until you finally graduate from Hogwarts. As soon as that happens, you’ll never step foot in 12 Grimmauld Place again.

On the train to Hogwarts, you reach out to slide open a compartment door when a pale hand reaches past you.

“Please, let me get that for you,” your companion says, gesturing for you to enter first. Over the last several holidays, your family has been eager to introduce you to some other eligible pure-bloods your age. They were unsurprisingly heinous people, guilty of just about every prejudice in the book - against muggle-borns, against poor people, against women, it was like they had a checklist.

What was surprising was your odd fondness for Pollux Carrow, a fellow Slytherin you’d seen once or twice in the common room but never spoken to, hailing from the noble Carrow family. It would be a stretch to say you liked him. Growing up in a Sacred Twenty-Eight family of pure-bloods would always be a cauldron of generational trauma, and just because Pollux wasn’t a bad person, it didn’t mean he was the most saintly person, either.

The two of you enter the compartment and before Pollux can insist, you heft your bags into the overhead bin yourself. You sit, stretch out, and crack open the first book you grabbed on your way out the door that morning. The well-loved leather cover is soft beneath your fingers.

Goblets, Goblins, and Gobstones: An Anthology of Magical Folklore

Your heart clenches. You’d only received this a few months ago. You remember a flash of freckles and a boyish smile, telling you how he’d found it at a used bookstore and just had to get it for you. The tip of his nose was red from the cold, but he could not have cared less when you hugged him tightly and thanked him for the gift.

You’d gotten him a book as well, naturally, but you never got to give it to him.

“Merlin’s beard, that thing’s been through the wringer,” Pollux says from his seat.

You hum just to acknowledge him.

“Read it many times, then?” he asked.

The incident with Solomon Sallow happened not too long after. Since then, you couldn’t bring yourself to even open the thing. Not when you and the person you wanted to discuss it with the most weren’t speaking. You’d even given Ominis some space so as to not put him in a tight spot between his friends.

Finally, you reply, “It was a gift.”

Pollux eyes your book like it was diseased. “Interesting gift.”

This time you don’t deign to reply, knowing Pollux was one of those people who needed to have an opinion on everything. 

Movement in the walkway catches your eye and you gasp when a shock of fluffy brown hair breezes past the window. Ominis’s unmistakable visage follows closely behind, visibly grabbing for the boy in front of him and steering him into your compartment.

“Do you have room for two more?” Ominis asks. His posh accent and soft voice were always pleasing to hear. “All the other compartments are full.”

You know very well that they’re not, but you play along anyway.

“By all means.” You move your legs and belongings out of the way and pat the seat beside you. With the other hand, you shove your book under your thigh.

Maybe it’s seeing him again after time apart or the leather tome that smells like him sitting just beneath your robes, but the words are out of your mouth before you can think better of it.

“Hi, Sebastian,” you murmur.

The boy in question looks confused that you addressed him at all. He opens his mouth, then snaps it shut before shaking his head and giving you a nod.

“Hello.” His voice is a tad deeper than you remember it and he looks more tired. He inclines his head towards your companion. “Carrow.”

“Hello, Sallow,” Pollux replied. What is it with boys and calling each other by their last names?

Sebastian quickly plants himself beside Pollux and busies himself in a book you’ve seen him read a hundred times before. He was reading it when you first met him in the common room, in fact. He buries himself in his reading, but his lips are pressed into a hard line and he’s squinting at the words.

Rather than stir up trouble, you turn to Ominis.

“How was your holiday?”

He laughs. “Of course it was,” then he seemed to remember Pollux, “fine. Good to see family again.”

Being in close proximity to the Gaunt family could never be described as ‘good,’ even for the more obedient members of the family, which Ominis was not.

Thinking quickly on your feet, you feign coughing into your fist.

“Are you alright?” Pollux asks.

“Yes, I’m fine.” You cough again. “My throat’s just a little dry.”

He jumps to his feet. “I’ll get you some water!” And with that, he’s gone. If your calculations were correct, he’d see some more Slytherins on the way to the beverage cart and get held up for at least ten minutes.

“Well, Ominis? How was it really?” you prod.

He rolls his milky eyes and scoffs. “As good as predicted, that is, not at all. My family has migrated to our country estate for the season and when it wasn’t contentious between us, it was terribly boring.” He shrugs tiredly. “And you? Does the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black have anything to do with your new companion?”

You cringe at the full title. “The social season is months away, and yet they insist that I meet the other pure-blooded hellspawn.”

“Unsurprising that they’d favor a Carrow for you,” Ominis sighs. “I think I’ve spent at least half my holiday in the presence of the Greengrass’ youngest.”

“She’s pretty, at least,” you comment before Ominis raises an eyebrow at you.

“I wouldn’t know.”

You desperately stifle your laughter.

“Besides,” he adds, “she takes great fun in making the house elves compete for sport.”

Wrinkling your nose, you ask, “Compete in what?”

“A better question would be what don’t they compete in?”

The two of you stare at each other in disgust before dropping the subject entirely. You steal a glance at Sebastian, who hasn’t turned the page since he opened his book and you know for a fact that he is an amazingly fast reader.

Ominis gives you a look that sends a shock of dread through you. He always made that face when he was planning something.

“Well, Garreth should be around here somewhere.” Ominis stood, stretching. “I have a book of his and I should pass it off to him now before I end up carrying it around for the rest of the day. I’ll be back shortly.”

You open your mouth to protest but he all but ran out the door. Sighing, you resign yourself to watching the landscape blur past through the window. Though, you note that Sebastian still has yet to turn the page. Part of you wants to say something, anything to fill the silence. Yet, what would you say? ‘I know you killed your uncle not too long ago, but how are you? Had a good holiday in an empty house?’ Or even ‘Remember how I prevented you from getting sent to Azkaban? So we’re good, right?’

Stealing another glance at him with his head nearly buried in the pages, you think about how the hardest part of being in this awkward place with Sebastian is that you don’t feel like you can talk to him. Before, you could sneak into the restricted section of the library and raid goblin camps and sit in the astronomy tower seeing who can invent the silliest new constellation.

Sebastian always won at that. It’s easy for smart people to be funny.

The two of you hadn't exchanged a single owl all holiday. Then, with all these memories in mind, you had to wonder: Did Sebastian miss you as much as you missed him? Of course, you had your bonds with Poppy and Imelda and Natty, but for all intents and purposes, Sebastian was your best friend. Being out of sync with him was like hearing a beloved song in the wrong key.

Even while your family paraded you around, introducing the different sons and daughters of the noble purebloods to you, you only thought of Sebastian. You’d never be fond of any of those bigots anyhow, but each of their flaws were in relation to him. They’d be too short or too tall,  another lacking enough freckles, and then one wouldn’t laugh at a joke you made that would’ve had Sebastian rolling on the floor with tears in his eyes. They were all wrong on so many accounts.

Pollux was the best of them, which wasn’t saying much, but he wasn’t nearly as hateful as the rest of them. At the time, while you were missing someone, he was an acceptable stand-in.

Being alone with Sebastian was quickly becoming too suffocating. You stand and rush to the compartment door and in your haste you almost don’t register the dull thud behind you.

When you turn, you see Sebastian pick up the leather tome you forgot you had. He turns it over in his hands, his expression unreadable.

“Oh!” You exclaim nervously, reaching for it. “Thank you, I’m so clumsy.”

“You kept it?” Sebastian said quietly.

You were somewhat offended at the implication. When he turned, you forced yourself to look into his eyes when you replied, “Of course, I did. It was a gift and I wanted to know why you liked it so much.” By the time the words left your mouth, you wondered if you’d said too much.

Sebastian doesn’t look away. His grip on your book loosened and an array of emotions flashed across his face. The circles under his eyes had lightened since you last saw him, but they were still there.

He wordlessly passes the book back to you and your skin tingles where your fingers brush.

“I wanted you to know.” Sebastian broke eye contact, then seemed to catch himself and reestablished it. “I feel like you deserve to know that–”

You jump when the door slides open right next to you. Pollux stands on the other side holding two cups of water. He begins to speak when rush out the door, calling out some excuse about needing the restroom over your shoulder. Never mind that the restroom was in the opposite direction.

Just the next car over, you run into Ominis, who aims the red tip of his wand towards you.

“Why are you so upset? What did Sebastian say to you?” He demands, then his eyes widen in shock. “Did he give that to you?”

You nod, and adjust your grip on the book. “Yes, a while ago. He said he couldn’t wait until the proper holidays. But I haven’t gotten around to reading it. Not that I don’t want to, it’s just that it’s–”

“You’re rambling,” Ominis interrupts. You smile sheepishly and he looks solemn. “He loves that book more than life itself. Did he tell you that?”

The book is leather, with loose bindings and yellowing pages. “No? It’s just some folklore, I do tend to like stories like these,” you reply.

Ominis shakes his head. “It’s full of his old bedtime stories. His mother used to read it to him before she died. It’s one of the last memories of her he has.”

You stare at the book in disbelief, looking back and forth from it to Ominis. “You’re serious? I can’t take something like this! We’re not even on speaking terms!”

Ominis pats your shoulder on his way past you. “Impulsive as he may be, Sebastian doesn’t take this sort of thing lightly. If he gave it to you, he wanted you to have it. Perhaps talk to him about it? Or about anything for that matter. Honestly, the two of you would have significantly less problems if you just talked to each other.”

As he leaves, you stare after him, the book in your hand suddenly much heavier than it was before. Smiling softly, you find an empty compartment - you knew Ominis was lying earlier - and sit down. The smell of the old book is comforting when you turn the first page, and it reminds you of someone who smells just like it. For the first time in weeks, you relax and begin to read.

[triassictriserratops]

okay, so DARK !HijackedPeeta idea/writing prompt for anyone who wants it:

(this is VERY loosely inspired by a twisted idea of The Little Mermaid, so if you want to add those fairy tale elements - have at!)

when Peeta strangles Katniss he manages to permanently (or semi-permanently based on your preference) damage her trachea/larynx, thereby damaging her vocal chords.

Katniss loses her ability to speak. Snow has now used Peeta as a tool to "silence The Mockingjay"

THINGS THAT COULD HAPPEN AS A RESULT:

1.) Katniss grappling with the loss of her voice and her ability to sing. Something she connects to better times with her father.

2.) Katniss needing to learn a whole new form of communication (likely through bonding with Pollux, who although different in circumstance, obviously, can empathize and wants to help her.)

3.) Plutarch tasking Beetee with taking voice clips of Katniss and creating an AI voice that can say anything he wants it to say. (To the horror of Katniss, her family, and Haymitch)

4.) As Peeta is able to recover from the hijacking, the knowledge of what his hands did will destroy him.

5.) As he watches that video of Katniss singing The Hanging Tree (and he flashes back to her father singing it) it will work as a kind of siren song. He's drawn to it. Drawn to her voice. But Katniss can't sing anymore due to his actions. And he has to grapple with that and what he took from the world and from her.

6.) They find ways back to each other. Where he was initially drawn to her voice from the young age of 5, without the "siren song" he finds himself constantly drawn to her in other ways.

[elynnss]

binary stars

https://archiveofourown.org/works/53886976

“I want at least three.” 

Cassiopeia twinkles above. Sirius follows the zig-zag of it down to Perseus, then Taurus, then Gemini. Castor and Pollux take turns flashing. 

“Oh yeah? And how many does she want?” 

The serpentine line of Draco flows down to Ursa Major. Part of him wants to sit up and turn to see Andromeda, but he’s comfortable on his back, with James a warm line of warmth along his side. 

“I’ll convince her. Being an only child is lonely. They need someone to play with.” 

“You wouldn’t play with them?” 

“Course I would! All the time. They’ll be quidditch players before they can speak. But I won’t be around to play all the time.” 

“Oh please. You’ll be the stay at home wife while poor Lily goes to work. I can already see it.” 

James just laughed, elbow knocking into Sirius’. It should have been freezing with the cracked stone of the Astronomy Tower at their backs and the cool October wind in their hair. But James was like an inferno- a sun amongst stars. Sirius wasn’t cold at all. 

“Nah. I’ll be a pro quidditch player. She’ll never work a day in her life if I can help it.” 

“Oh, you know she’d hate that.” 

James sighed, dreamy. “Yeah. Yeah, she would.” 

Lyra, Cygnus, Cepheus. Silence sat comfortable between them. 

“Do you want kids, Sirius?” 

“I’ve… never really thought about it.” 

He tried very hard not to. Kids only ever made him think of closets and family dinner and the flick of unfriendly wands and his own eyes staring back at him, big and wet with tears as he pleaded, pick me up, S’rius-

“Nah. Nah, I don’t think I will.” 

“Really? You don’t think Moony would ever want one or two?” Somedays, Sirius thought Remus didn’t even want to be with him. With them. Not for lack of love, but for that persistent, unyielding fear that someday his claws and teeth would finally sink into one of them. He sincerely Moony would tolerate something as helpless as a child in his life. 

“Maybe. I think he’d be scared, though.” 

James hummed. He didn’t need to ask what he’d be scared of. 

“And you? C’mon, they could be cousins, Sirius.” 

“I don’t think I’d be a good dad.” 

Hercules. Bootes. Ursa Minor. 

“I don’t think that's true.” 

“Don’t have the best example, do I?” 

If he squinted, he could see Mars. 

“I think that’d help you know what not to do then, no?” 

He did shudder a bit, then. Sometimes, there had been smiles, a hand on his head, a fountain of sparks to make two little boys laugh. It all got too mixed up, too jumbled to know which hands and which sparkes had been good and which had hurt. 

James only hummed at his silence, unfazed. This wasn’t the first time they’d spoken about this, or something like it. 

“Godfather, then. You two can babysit. How many can you handle?” 

He thought of James, happy but alone in a giant house. He thought of a set of three sisters, of the one who’d been left behind. 

He thought of nights just like this, with a different boy on top of a different set of ancient stones, pointing at the same constellations as they named their cousins and aunts and uncles one by one. 

“Two. Or four. Keep it even. One always gets left behind when it's uneven.” 

Sirius had a brother. He did not have a brother. His brother was asleep, countless stories below. His brother was next to him, staring at the sky. 

“Alright, Pads. Even numbers it is. I think I can convince her into that.” 

Sirius knew he would. Knew Lily would sigh and give in, as if she wasn’t just as excited. Knew that one day, James would host dinner for all of them at Potter Manor with a horde of rambunctious children at their feet. 

And Sirius would take them outside and point out stars, help their little hands trace out constellations. And his heart would ache- impossibly full and impossibly hollow as he stared up at the night sky- just as it did now. 

His side was warm. His brother was miles below him. His brother was right beside him. 

[a-french-coconut]

Leeluke

Camp is… well it’s a lot of things. 

It’s great, the safest place of earth, perhaps maybe Olympus but they’re not allowed there- once again a proof that gods don’t care about them and why should they take it, why let them use them as pawns in their cruel games- excepts for specials occasions, for demigods like him, Annabeth, Lee. It’s great to settle in one place after years of moving around in the country. It’s great to sleep without one eye open, without tensing at every noise in the darkness, hands rapidly reaching for a weapon. It’s great to fit in, to find people like him. 

Luke is truly happy when he sees Annabeth hanging out with the Stolls, when she rants about architecture and mathematics to her older sister, Helena, who listens to her with a wide smile, entertaining her more than Luke himself never could. He’s even happier to spend lazy afternoons in the strawberry fields with his wonderful boyfriend, Lee, or teaming up with him to destroy Castor and Pollux at volley ball. 

Those are nice aspects of Camp Half-Blood, the ones Luke wouldn’t trade for anything (“is that so ?” croons his voice, echoing in his mind. He doesn’t listen.) 

Then, well no place is without faults. Since Kylie left for college one month ago, Luke has officially taken up the mantle of head counsellor of Cabin 11. Which is a very good thing because bless his sister’s soul but she had nothing of a leader. Weak-willed, soft, easily swayed by whines, unwilling to stand her ground for hot water privileges and careless about cabin inspection. She might have been a good thief, an excellent one even, but it’s all she inherited from their father, Hermes. Not an ounce of manipulation in her, not a speck of stubbornness. The cabin was a mess when he arrived three years ago, and while it’s still is, there’s now a semblance of order in the anarchy. Thanks to him, of course. (“You could do so much better than rotting here, for ungrateful gods” he hums. “so much potential, wasted.”) 

It’s him that’s been making sure that scraped at least a two, bribing whoever was doing the inspection with smuggled goods, promises of alliances at Capture the Flag or simply a good old threat. 

It’s Luke that greeted the new campers, flashing them a smile and stealing some essentials from the camp shop as a welcome gift. Make sure everybody ate, showered and got back safe and sound at night ? Luke, frantically counting every head, every 25 campers living under Cabin 11’s roof. Place to sleep ? Him again, laying sleeping bags on the floor’s most clean patches, because all of them do not fit in the 14 beds of the cabin. 

Coordinating with Lee, to make sure none of his campers die from a food allergic reaction ? Still him, noting down with care Chris’ incapacity to eat raspberries or Joelle’s distaste towards chocolate. 

All in all, he is familiar with his new duties when Kylie pats him on the shoulder, wishing him good luck before dashing out of Camp, the Grey’s taxi waiting for her. He doesn’t expect things to change much, apart from attending counsellors’ meetings. And now that he’s part of the group, maybe he can convince Chiron to let him extend the cabin. He doesn’t understand why Kylie didn’t ask the old trainer, surely he would accept. (“So much misplaced faith.” The titan laughs, lurking in his thoughts. “How much time before you understand ? They don’t care about your kind, demigod.”) 

----------------------

“No ?” He repeats, incredulity lacing his voice, as he watches Chiron sighs tiredly after he denied his request. “Chiron, with summer coming, there’s bound to be new demigods and the cabin is already so crowded we can hardly breath !”  

“My dear boy, I’m afraid there is nothing we can do about that, except wait for the gods to claim their children.” The centaur patiently says, with a monotone voice, as he spewed out for the hundredth time the same speech. “The other gods would not take kindly such a change, they might see it as demonstration of superiority from your father.” 

He’s gotta be kidding. Right ? Gods cannot be that shallow, they can’t be so vain as to be bothered by that. (“they don’t deserve to rule this world, let us fix that.” He whispers and Luke might think he’s right.) “Chiron, there’s 25 kids in the cabin right now. Five, including myself and Chris because it’s obvious he’s my brother, are Hermes’ kids. The other twenties are either unclaimed or children from minor gods, like Ethan and Alabaster. Some of the unclaimed have been here for months. Samantha can grow plants, Martin can shapeshitft, it’s clear who their parents are.” 

“What’s your point Luke ?” Theo, counsellor of Ares, speaks up. “Just deal with it, like Kylie used to.” 

“Kylie didn’t do shit.” He hisses at the boy who scowls. “And my point is that either the gods claim their kids or I’m doing something about it, whether they like it or not.” 

“You can’t go against the gods like that, Luke.” Brianna frowns, picking nervously her nails while looking at the roof. “They aren’t going to like it.” 

“Then what ?” He snaps at the daughter of Aphrodite who recoils and refuse to meet his gaze. “What do I do Brianna ? Nothing ? I let my siblings sleep on the floor ? I let the cabin goes to absolute shit ? Mhhh ? What do you suggest ? What do you all suggest ?” He scans his crowd, all six counselors and Chiron.  He can’t believe them, cannot believe the leniency , the lack of upsetting in front of their situation. 

Why don’t they care ? Why are they happy with being stuck here, afraid of saying the wrong things, afraid of getting cursed because they hurt the pride of those gods ? (“And don’t you want to fix that ? I can help you overthrown them. I can bring you justice.”) 

It’s Chiron that answers him. “Mr. Castellan, you must understand that the issues you are addressing cannot be solved. Not by the way you are proposing. I’m afraid you have to find another solution.” 

The underlying warning is clear. He can’t go against the gods (“Oh, you can.” The titan whispers.). Is this why Kylie didn’t do anything ? Did she try like him and got the same answer ? If so, he can understand why she quit. No that he’ll do the same, by the gods no.  He’s done letting them dictate his life, dictate Halcyon Green and Thalia’s life. 

(“Tell me your plan.”) 

He flashes Chiron a thin smile. “Will do, Chiron. Now if all of you don’t mind, I gotta go. Biggest cabin to run and all that stuff.” He dashes out of the room before they can stop him. 

----------------------

A war between gods. 

A full blow-out conflict that will inevitably bring demigods into the fight. (“There are always casualties in grand changes like this.” ) He doesn’t want his friends to get hurt. (“I can make sure they will be safe.”) 

He needs to think about it. (“When you realize I am the best choice, call upon me. I will be there, waiting.”)

Luke’s not naive. If there is any chance those he cares about come out unscathed of the war looming on the horizon, if he accepts the titan’s offer, they must be on his side. And there’s the catch, he’s not sure they’ll follow him. 

Annabeth won’t, she’s too obsessed with the idea of pleasing her mother and sees Chiron as a paternal figure. 

In his cabin… He can convince the unclaimed, the minor gods’ children and some, if not all of his siblings. 

“Hey.” A voice, Lee’s, says behind him, and soon enough, his boyfriend’s head in on his lap. “Hannah told me about the meeting.”

Luke scoffs, looking down to meet Lee’s face. “I can’t wait for you to be counselor after summer. At least someone there is going to fucking care except me.” 

Lee frowns and Luke is once again hit by how little he looks like a son of Apollo. Brown curly hair instead of blond, green forest eyes instead of blue, Lee Fletcher takes everything after his mother. That’s until you see him with a bow, shooting five to six arrows at the same time. “Nobody even tried to help you ? Really ? That sucks.” His boyfriend grins at him. “Don’t worry, next fall I’ll back you up.” 

Luke laughs and leans down to give him a quick kiss. “Thanks Sunshine but I’m afraid the two of us aren’t going to change things around here. We need, I don’t know, something more radical.” 

“Radical ?” Lee raises his eyebrow, tilting his head with an amused smile. “It’s not like we can riot against the gods, Luke.” 

“Why not though ? How else can we make them understand ?” 

“Luke, my love.” Lee replies with worry. “It would get people hurt, our friends and siblings hurt. I’m all for making changes but I’m drawing a line at getting those I love hurt.” Lee cups his face, fingers dancing softly on his skin. “I’ll die before letting all of you close to danger.” He kisses him slightly, his lips have a sweet taste of strawberry, probably because Apollo had strawberry picking earlier in the morning. Not that Luke is complaining. “So drop the idea of rebellion or whatever, okay ?” Lee says when he pulls back. “It’s no good.” 

“Everything you want Sunshine, I’ll do it.” Luke relents, mindlessly playing with his boyfriend’s curls. “Anything for you.” 

Maybe with Lee on counselors meeting, it will be enough to do something. There’s no need to provoke a war. Summer is going to be tough but as soon as Hannah leaves in September, Lee will help him. 

----------------------

As predicted, summer kicks his ass. Ten more kids came back, increasing the numbers to 35 campers, in a cabin meant to house 15 at best.  

When finally, the forest turns a lovely shade of orange and red, when the summer kids leave, with some of the year rounders going with them, testing their luck in the real world because this one doesn’t care about them, Luke is more than ready to harass the other counsellors until they agree to help him. 

And yet, despite Lee backing him up, despite it being clear that they are living in terrible conditions in Cabin 11, despite all the talk about how they are one big family that should be united, not one counsellor sway on his side. 

Victor from Demeter shrugs when he comes to him, Katie Gardner peeking curiously from behind the cabin’s door, and doesn’t have the will to change things. “We’re good with what we have Luke, maybe you should try that point of view.” He says, more interested in the flowers on his garden than in what Luke has to say. 

Theo from Ares stands his ground, stating that those are Luke’s problems and he should find a way to deal with alone. Behind him, Clarisse La Rue scowls and sharpens her spear, and Luke has a feeling that Theo won’t be counsellor very longer. Good, that guy can die for all he cares. 

Annabeth supports him of course, but she’s eleven and the others don’t take her seriously. Never mind that she’s been there four years, that’s she’s more skilled than any of them, she’s a child and that is all they see. 

Simon from Hephaestus and Brianna aren’t keen on doing something against the will of the gods, and both of them are leaving next year. “Sorry, Luke, but I ain’t going to be here next year so…” Simon shrugs unapologetically. 

And Chiron explains with the same patience and same infuriating tone that it’s not possible to do what Luke wants to do. 

Fine. Fine. 

He tried the nice way. 

“Hey Silena ?” He calls the daughter of Aphrodite. “You have a minute ? I want to talk to you about something. Meet me at the stables in ten minutes. I’m bringing some of my campers.” 

(“You were right, I’m ready to do your plan. There’s no other way.”)

----------------------

The following summer, Percy Jackson stumbles across the borders of Camp Half-Blood and by the end of August, Luke poisons him and leaves Camp. 

When Silena tells him that Lee locked himself up for two weeks in his cabin after he learnt about his actions, his heart breaks and doubt seeps his way into his heart. (“He chose his side, Castellan. He’s the enemy now.”Kronos whispers in his mind. “There is no love to hold for a foe.”) 

A fog clouds his brain, blurring all but the fact that Lee chose to stand against him. 

“Just make sure you stay in his good books Silena.” He tells her, ignoring the shock on her face. “It’s all we need from him.” 

----------------------

There’s nothing worse than hosting a titan. 

Nothing worse than seeing your body slay demigods, while you are locked away, a spectator to the actions of Kronos.

He’s in New York City, standing on a bridge.  He’s watching demigods fighting on the other side and by the gods, they are losing. 

A hellhound appears out of the shadows, dragging a corpse with him. It’s a boy, an archer with orange t-shirt.

Blond, blood-stained hair, blue eyes looking into the void as the monster eats his flesh. Oh gods, oh by Hermes, please don’t let it- He winces as a supersonic whistle echoes on the river. 

No 

It’s the Apollo Cabin standing on the other side of the bridge, getting slaughtered by the titan army. 

No 

Lee’s there. Lee must be there. 

“I’ll die before letting all of you close to danger.” 

There’s no way Lee left his siblings to fight without him. He has to stop Kronos, he cannot let him cross the bridge. 

(“Your efforts are useless Castellan.” Kronos taunts him. “You cannot stop me.”) 

Thanks the gods, Percy Jackson can, standing his ground against the titan lord, allowing the Apollo Cabin, Lee, to retreat to safety. 

“Percy ! The bridge !” A boy yells from the cables supporting the bridge. “Use your powers !” 

He knows him, Michael Yew. Why is doing that ? There’s no way he can get back on the ground if Percy breaks the bridge. There’s no way Lee would allow him… 

“I’ll die before letting all of you close to danger.”

When Percy breaks the bridge, it isn’t Kronos’ scream of frustration that echoes, but Luke’s scream of grief and pain when he realizes that Lee is dead, and he has now idea how and when. 

He’s granted Elysium.  While he isn’t sure to deserve it, he won’t question the judges’ choice. 

It’s beautiful but vast, how is he going to find Lee in this- 

“What the fuck are you doing here ?” Someone hisses and when he turns back to see who, he faces Michael Yew snarling at him. “You don’t deserve to be here.” 

“The judges deemed it otherwise, Yew.” He replies and the son of Apollo scowls, clearly not agreeing with that decision. “Look, Michael, I’m sorry about-“ 

“Save your breath because I won’t ever forgive you.” Michael cuts him off, still glaring at him. 

“Okay, fair enough.” He concedes. “Can you just tell me-“ 

“You wanna know about Lee, don’t you ?” Michael guesses, and rightfully so. “He would not have wanted to see you anyway.” 

“How did he die ? And when ?” He asks, not picking up on Michael’s formulation. “Please, I- I just need to know if it was quick.” 

Selfishly, he wishes Lee died in some mortal accidents, like a car crash. 

“Last summer, battle of the labyrinth, head caved in by a giant.” Michael says curtly. “Dead because of your stupid war, like a lot of us.” 

“I need to tell him sorry. Can you-“ 

“He’s not here anymore.” Michael interrupts him. “Castor ? Remember him ? He also died at the labyrinth by the way. Anyways, I searched for Lee too when I arrived down here and he told me he had chosen rebirth.” 

Luke’s heart falls like a stone. “He’s gone ?” He chokes up, because if Lee is gone, then he died thinking Luke didn’t love him anymore. He died viewing as- what did Lee think of him after his betrayal ? A monster for hurting his family ? Lee was always big on family. Yeah, Lee thought he was a monster. 

“Whose fault is that ?” Michael grumbles, shooting him a glare. 

“Lethe ? Where is it ?” He asks the son of Apollo. 

“Leaving so soon ?” Michael tilts his head, just like Lee did, and Luke can’t take it. “Yeah, not like I’m welcome here.” 

“You’re right about that.” The other boy snorts, pointing a direction with his head. “Go that way, you’ll find the river.” 

Luke nods, smiling in spite of himself at Michael’s advice, “try not to fuck up that life !”, before heading towards where the other boy directed him. 

Who knows ? Maybe he can make it to the Isle of the Blessed, like he told Annabeth.  

Plus, there’s still a chance to meet Lee in another life. In a nice, mortal life where they can live old and happy. 

Granted, the odds aren’t in his favor but he’s sure he can make something out of it. He’s pretty good at getting things his way. 

He cups the white water from the river in his hands and brings it to his mouth. 

----------------------

There are nicer ways to meet someone than bumping into them and spilling their beverage on their clothes. In the bright aspect, you can be sure you got their attention ! 

“Dude, really ?” The guy whines, looking mournfully at his stained sweatshirt. “Mondays really suck.” 

“Sorry.” Oliver winces. “Please, let me buy you coffee to make it up.” 

“Eh.” The guy checks his watch before shrugging and giving him an easy smile. It suits very well Oliver thinks. “I guess I can be late for once, the office won’t mind. Who do I got to thank for this ?” 

“I’m Oliver.”

“Nice to meet you Oliver, I’m Nathan.” Nathan smiles again, seemingly not that bothered by his ruined attire. 

“I’m calling you Sunshine.” He blurts out and why did he do that ? Call a complete stranger Sunshine ? No matter that the name just fits, that it rolled out of his mouth naturally, he can’t say that. “Because, hum, you’re way too happy for a Monday morning and for getting late to work.” 

“But I get to meet you, Oliver.” Nathan grins, his brown eyes- with specks of forest green in it if you look closely- sparkle. “It makes up for it, I think.” 

“Come on.” Nathan nudges him playfully, gesturing towards the coffee shop. “Tell me more about you while you so generously buy me coffee.” 

This was supposed to be a sad ending... but I hate sad endings so it evolved into a happy ending lol. Wanted to write Leeluke because I've seen a lot of it and I really like the pair <3

[firelance2361]

My Version of The Flash (2023)

After watching the Flash on Max this past couple of weeks, here’s a little fan poster for how I would have remixed the Flashpoint storyline for a new adaptation.

There’s a lot of stuff forthcoming about how I would have done the film, and I know it probably won’t be perfect, but I thought I would at least give it a shot.

Again, the rest of how I would have adapted the Flashpoint is still in the works, but it will be coming soon.

Hope you like it!

[rynmaru]

Shoes to Fill

“My name is Castor Creed.”

No that wasn’t right…

“Hello, my name is Castor Creed!”

Too bubbly. Castor had definitely been more serious.

“Greetings, I am Dr. Castor Creed.”

Now that was too stiff.

“Hi! My name is…is…” Creed 01 trailed off, staring at the face reflected back at them in the tiny mirror they’d been provided in their room. “…I don’t know…I don’t know my name….”

The defeated whisper fell from their lips as their head dropped in shame, tears swimming in their eyes.

It wasn’t a new feeling, they’d been unable to identify with the name that was apparently theirs since they had first heard it, and the sound of it was always accompanied by a keen sense of loss they could never explain. Claiming that name had never been an option from the very start, as even the idea of doing so left a bitter taste in their mouth.

Perhaps they would have been able to accept the name with greater ease if everything else felt correct, but even their body felt foreign to them. They were surprised every time they looked down at their hands, like something they could never name was decidedly wrong with them. It was the same with their reflection. There was always an utter lack of recognition, as if they were looking at someone else through a window.

Turning away from the mirror, Creed01 went to sit on the edge of their bed, picking up one of the books they had been given to read, though it was really more of a bound informational book on L.E.I.D.A., its staff, and its mission. They opened to a page they had bookmarked and staring at the picture on the left page. It was of Castor, a photo taken of him working in his lab, leaning on the table. His brow was furrowed as if thinking, but there was the ghost of a smile on his lips. His head was tilted to the side, as if listening to someone through the earpiece in his right ear. They had stared at this one for hours, committing him to memory. Finding commonalities and differences.

They had the same curly black hair. Their facial features were identical in their structure, showing strong Terran Japanese heritage, as was their build and their skin color. They had mimicked the photo’s expression of concentration in the mirror before and discovered that was the same as well. And they had the same small dimples that appeared when they smiled.

But there were differences as well, some subtle, some striking.

Creed 01 looked back to the mirror. They seemed to put on weight more readily than Castor did. Maybe it was the lack of physical activity in the cell or maybe they were somehow more predisposed to it, but the naturally sharper lines of their face were softened by their healthier weight.

Then of course there were their eyes, which were fast becoming the most obvious difference. Creed 01 studied the slowly spreading centralized heterochromia. Their eyes had started the same warm, reddish brown that ringed the irises, but soon the brown was disrupted by a vibrant green that haloed their pupils. At this rate it was promising to become the dominant eye color, something they had overheard Dr. Tyne venting his frustration about to one of the other cloning specialists. That, apparently, was not normal, even for flash clones.

“Why didn’t I come back right…?” They whispered, touching Castor’s image with a fingertip. “Why didn’t you come back? You would know what to do…you wouldn’t disappoint people…you wouldn’t upset people…you’d be back…I’d be you…we’d be happy…”

They fell back onto the bed, holding the book up over their head to continue looking at the picture.

“I just…wish I knew what was expected of me…if I knew that it would be easier…I could have a place to start from…but no one’s told me anything. I’m supposed to just know how to be you…and I…I don’t even know you. What’s your favorite color? Why did you join L.E.I.D.A.? Who were your friends? Why’d you choose to wear those dorky glasses?”

They smiled a bit but it quickly faded as silence stretched out in answer to their questions. Their heart ached.

“It’s not fair…” They whispered. “I shouldn’t have to figure this out myself…I want help.”

Castor’s image offered no response and Creed 01 held the picture closer, whispering conspiratorially.

“Look, you don’t even have to come back for good if you don’t want to…just…just enough so I can remember…so I can live like you…I can do that, I promise. Just tell me how to be you…so the tests can stop…”

Their voice caught in their throat. “Please, I’m so tired…I just want to leave this room…I want someone who understands the pressure I’m under…I want…I want to know you…please…please it can’t just be me…I can’t do this by myself…I’m scared…Why did you leave me alone…?”

Silence.

There was only. Ever. Silence.

Silence from the people they tried talking to about Castor. Silence from the pictures. Silence from Tyne. Silence from the depths of their own short, blank memory.

It wasn’t fair.

“Why’d you do this?” They asked, their grip tightening on the book. “Why didn’t you come back? Were you scared? Is there something you ran from? I bet you knew how horrible it would be to come back and didn’t want to deal with it! I bet you couldn’t take it! I bet you have stuff you did that’s going to come back to bite me!”

The picture provided no further answers, and Creed 01’s patience snapped. Sitting up, they slammed the book down onto the bed in frustration.

“Why?! Why am I not enough? I know I’m not you but I have your mind! Isn’t that what matters? I’m here and you aren’t! What makes us that different really? Why won’t anyone tell me that? What makes you so goddamn special?!”

The smile in the picture looked smug now, as if Castor were pleased with the approval and sense of belonging that his clone would never obtain. Infuriated, Creed 01 grabbed the page and pulled, tearing it from the book.

“I’m the one who made it! I’m the one here! I’m the one picking up the pieces of your life and shouldering all your expectations! And you…you left no instructions! No plan B if the cloning process went wrong! Not even a fucking will! Nothing! So guess what?”

They crushed the page in their trembling fist.

“I’m done trying to remember. I’m done trying to be you. I don’t know who the fuck I am, but I will never be you, Castor Creed!”

They crumpled the page into a ball and hurled it across the room as they shouted their defiant declaration. It bounced off the wall and rolled part of the way back towards them before coming to a halt in the center of the room.

Creed 01 stared at it before letting their gaze drift up to the mirror, which reflected back the face that was not theirs, tears streaming down the cheeks. That was not their face, but every change that surfaced made it so it wasn’t Castor’s either. Perhaps one day, given enough time and enough change, they’d be able to claim it as their own.

They took a deep breath and tried to look brave.

“My name is Creed 01…and that’s good enough for now…”

[sunnysaystuff]

psps would you read this fic. it's a new idea of mine do you think it seems interesting

DIOSCURI

SUMMARY:

[In the Wizarding World, soulmates are venerated. It is said that a bonded pair shall be blessed and cursed; one another’s greatest regret and greatest comfort. It is said that a bonded pair shall possess immense power, only trumped by Death. It is said that a bonded pair is exquisitely rare; a gift from Magic herself—

So naturally, the House of Black had to try and find a cheat.

- 

“Sirius Orion, be welcome here, amongst the cosmos,” they chant, an eerie hum, darkened palms interlinked still. “Sirius Orion, be Castor, be welcome, be pure…” 

“Toujours pur,” and eleven-year-old Sirius thrusts the knife through his hand to meet the fabric in a spray of blood and gore. “I come as Sirius Orion—I leave as Castor Heir Black.”

-

“Sirius—Sirius Black?” his eyes widen, and then narrow sharply. “I’m James,” he tells Sirius, the boys alone in their compartment—“but my Grandmother Dorea calls me Pollux.” His words echo silently, grave and intense. There’s a challenge there, Sirius knows. So he sees it, and meets it. 

“My Great-Aunt Dorea calls me Castor,” he replies as if this moment won’t change his life, and lets that sit there for a beat. “Suppose we’re like twins, then,” he adds, and stretches out a hand.

“Maybe,” says James, and takes it. A flash of light, and something snaps into place. 

Maybe not twins. Maybe soulmates.]

----

hear me out hEAR ME OUT HERE GUYS

black family traditions (i will elaborate because i have a whole cool plan if anyone wants to know)! dorea and charlus potter are james' grandparents. dorea is sirius's great aunt. hear me out...james and sirius are soulmates. platonically (they're literally cousins in this that'd be nasty). do you see the vision. think of how cool it would be. they'd keep secrets...change things...james would meet regulus and maybe🤭yk...angst with remus...

we like it don't we?

[bugwolfsstuff]

VineOwls Christmas

Pollux's Pov

Pollux felt like he was in a fairyland. Bright blue, red, yellow, and white lights flashed around him and his twin like a kaleidoscope. Snow covered everything, like a crystal wonderland. It was just a (Probably) mortal village decorated for Christmas. But it looked so pretty.

Luke Castellan, a son of Hermes, chuckled behind them. "Haven't you ever seen Christmas lights before?".

"We have, Larry. They're just pretty." Pollux replied, though he didn't think Luke heard him over the scarf.

"Not that you'd know anything about prettiness," Pollux's twin brother, Castor, said. 

Castor always made it clear if he disliked someone by making sarcastic remarks or insults. 

And Pollux liked to be sneaky, like being passive-aggressive or tripping someone while they're carrying something with a vine.

To put it mildly, neither he nor Castor liked Luke Castellan. Sure, there was nothing wrong with the guy. He was nice enough to them. He doesn't talk badly about their dad like the other campers (at least Pollux has never heard him do). But since he came back from his quest, there was a feeling at the back of Pollux's mind, like a gut feeling, that gets stronger by the day. 

"Hey, wait up!" Annabeth called from down the street. Her blonde curls bouncing under her grey woolly hat like a halo as she ran to catch up.

Annabeth had been him and Castor's friend since —well, not since they met her. In fact, they were kinda very mean to her when they first met when they were eight. But they're ten now! They've matured now and become best friends.

He even made space on the sidewalk for her.

"The Christmas lights are so pretty," she said, walking between them, Castor on her right, Pollux on the left.

"Yeah," Pollux said.

"Can you believe what Leonard quoth to us?" Castor said, putting an annoying amount of emphasis on quoth.

Annabeth giggled. "It's Luke, Cast. And what did he quoth to you?"

Pollux sighed, "Don't encourage him, Owlbrain." 

Castor discovered Shakespeare a week ago, and he's been hyper-fixated on it ever since. And Pollux isn't sure how much longer he can take hearing about symbolism in Romeo and Juliet in the middle of the night before he starts thinking he's in a Shakespearean tragedy himself.

"O, speak to me no more. These words like daggers enter my ears." Castor annoyingly grinned as he quoted Hamlet. He turned to Annabeth, "Lenny here," He gestured to Luke, "thinks we've never seen Christmas lights before".

Luke put his hands up in defence, "Hey, I was just saying, you guys seemed so amazed by the lights; it's like you haven't seen Christmas before".

"Probably 'cause me and Cass don't celebrate Christmas," Pollux said.

"Dad has beef with Jesus," Castor explained, scooping up snow in his gloved hand.

"And Mom's relatives come over around Christmas, and Dad says they're a bunch of—" 

"Pollux," Chiron chided, rolling up behind them in his wheelchair, "Language. And Castor put that snowball down."

Castor stared at Chiron. The snowball he was about to throw at Luke dropped to the pavement. "I wasn't going to do anything!" 

"I don't celebrate Christmas either, though not because of that," Annabeth said.

"Then why?" Pollux asked, kicking a ball of snow as he walked.

Annabeth hesitated, "...Because of how it's about family and how great it is. And since I ran away from my 'family'. It's kinda a sore subject."

"Oh," is all he said.

It was all he could say; one of the only downsides to having your godly parent at camp was that you'll never understand your fellow campers.

Annabeth laughed, "Guess neither of us are getting Christmas presents this year."

Pollux giggled. "Yeah," he said.

But he was lying. He had already made up his mind.

Annabeth was getting a Christmas present.

A laugh rang out, and Pollux heard Chiron say, "Don't."

He and Annabeth whipped their heads around to see what was going on.

Luke was standing behind Castor, who had lagged behind and was too distracted by a red robin nearby to see the giant ball of snow Luke had looming over his head.

Pollux scooped up some snow, and Annabeth did the same.

"Cassie, look out!" he yelled, throwing a snowball as hard as he could at Luke's chest. Unfortunately, Pollux was never much good at being a marksman, and instead of hitting the much bigger son of Hermes, he hit the much smaller Castor's left arm.

Annabeth on the other hand, was a better shot than him...unfortunately, not better by much.

Her snowball sailed over Castor's head and past Luke's chest.

Hitting him in the armpit.

Luke dropped the snowball in mild shock...directly onto Castor's head.

'Whoopsie' was all that went through Pollux's head.

Part 1 of 7

[glowsticks-soda-and-magic]

Blood soaked hands

As promised, as angsty one shot! I know the poll is still going but I was bored. Anyway have some Cassidy and Claire! Ft: Pollux. This is set mostly in the Battle of Manhattan. This hasn't been proof read, I made AI do the editing cuz I have somewhere to be. Trigger warnings for: Blood, violence, death, slight self harm

Cassidy scrubbed at their hands furiously. The red blood seemed to cling to them further, refusing to wash off. They choked back a panicked sob, trying to scrub even harder. Their nails dug into their skin, leaving scratches and cuts. They raked their hands across each other under the water, digging into their nail beds to get it all off. "Cassidy? Are you okay?" Pollux knocked on the bathroom door sharply. Cassidy jumped at the sound.

"Fine!" They called back, a note of panic in their voice. "It's—It's the stupid blood, it won't go away." They scratched against their hands with increasing fierceness as their breathing grew heavier. They couldn't stay holed up in this bathroom forever; there was a war raging outside, and they couldn't afford to waste any time. "Pollux! It's not coming off!" Cassidy called out, their voice shaky.

Why wouldn't it go? It should have vanished by now. Cassidy kept scrubbing and raking their hands vigorously. "Cassidy, there's nothing there," Pollux said, gently taking their hands as he stood next to them. Cassidy shook his head, confused. "Pollux, what are you talking about? It's still there. It's all still there.""Pol, there's no blood," Pollux said. Cassidy looked at him as if he were crazy, scratching their hands furiously. How could he not see it? "Pol—Pollux, let me go! I need to get it off. I can't go back out there until I get it off," Cassidy sobbed, trying to wrench their hands out of Pollux's grip.

"Cass, you're going to scratch your skin off," Pollux shook his head, his grip tightening. "Not my skin. Just the blood. I need to get rid of the blood, Pollux, please," Cassidy pleaded, trying to free his arms from his brother's hold. Pollux grabbed them again. "Cassidy, look at me. There is nothing there." Cassidy gazed helplessly into purple eyes.

[A few minutes prior]

Claire gazed into purple eyes. Her breathing grew shallower with every passing second. A bloody dagger lay embedded in her abdomen. Cassidy stared back down at her, his purple eyes wide with fear and horror at what he had just done. Trembling hands closed around the bloody dagger's decorated hilt.

Claire closed her eyes as Cassidy tugged it out. In the next few moments, she finally understood what people meant when they talked about their lives flashing before their eyes.

Claire was six, curling into her father's chest as he read to her softly, clinging to him with droopy eyes.

She was eleven and afraid, clinging to a stuffed dog as her father drove like a maniac. He'd forced her to pack all her things quickly and get into the car. He offered no explanation until now, when he told her about Greek gods and monsters.

She was still eleven when her father died. Their car was flipped over on the side of the road. She hid in the grass as the monster ripped him apart.

She was twelve when she found a new family, a small group of children who were just like her. Demigods, trying to survive the monsters and make it somewhere safe. The same safe place that her father had been trying to take her to.

She was thirteen, and her new family was gone. She stumbled through the alleyways, blood splattered across her face and clothes while she gripped a sword tightly. She glanced back, trying to spot the monster, but she seemed to have lost it. She sank down against the wall and cried. She cried for Bruce, the oldest at sixteen and the self-proclaimed leader, who claimed to be a son of Athena. He was kind and smart, always knowing the right thing to do. She cried for Aria, who was fifteen and the leader when Bruce wasn't around, a daughter of Aphrodite. She knew you better than you knew yourself, and she cried for Kacey, who was only ten, a daughter of Hypnos. She slept a lot and didn't talk at all, but she was the sweetest person Claire had ever met. She cried for Bruce's dog, Skye, who had been the first to die.

She was still thirteen when she met a weird kid in a cardboard box. Cassidy looked around her age, but he could barely talk or count or read. He didn't know his age either. He was small and too skinny, and his curly hair was an unkempt mess; it was clear he'd tried cutting it himself. The oddest things were his eyes, which were a bright violet color, and the various scars and bruises on him.

He carried a knife everywhere he went, and he liked to steal stuff, even if he didn't need them. Even if it were hers and he'd given it to her. He also couldn't stay away from soda for the life of him. Claire was surprised nobody had kidnapped him yet. Cassidy also had odd habits. Whenever Claire got mad at him, he flinched back and looked afraid, like she might hurt him. Then he seemed to realize he was the one with the knife, so he just hissed at her like a wild cat and scurried up to the nearest high place.

Befriending Cassidy came with benefits, however, as he helped her survive, and when a leopard had come to lead Cassidy to camp, Claire had come along. There they met an odd man who claimed to be Cassidy's father. And Claire's, but he wouldn't talk to her until she got him a bottle of wine. She almost had until Chiron stepped in. Turns out he was only Cassidy's father. She didn't mind; he seemed unpleasant, and Cassidy looked terribly afraid of him.

Claire moved into the Hermes cabin; Luke was pretty nice, he reminded her of Bruce. Ethan was nice too, as were the Stoll brothers. She got along well with Cassidy's siblings too.

Claire was fourteen, almost fifteen, when he came out to her as non-binary and bi. They were the same age when Claire first kissed him.

Claire was fifteen when it all went downhill. She knew she shouldn't. She knew Cassidy would never forgive her. She knew Cassidy would never understand. But Cassidy had a cabin and siblings and a father they actually saw often. With one last look back, Claire plunged into the Labyrinth with the intention of finding and then joining the Titan army. Weeks later, she faced him in battle for the first time. The betrayed look on Cassidy's face was one she would never forget. It hurt worse than Cassidy's sword might have.

Claire was still fifteen. A bright green mist caused by her powers surrounded her. She chanted loudly with every intention of bringing the building down on the other demigods. Her abilities kept them from fighting back. Each time they rose, she forced them to collapse in pain. A new demigod approached. Cassidy. Claire hesitated. She couldn't hurt him. A dagger pierced her, and she fell to the ground in Cassidy's arms. The blood from her wound flowed freely, coating his hands in red. The dagger was dislodged from her abdomen. Claire inhaled for the final time as the clock struck midnight.

Claire Lewis was sixteen when she died. She stared up unblinkingly and limp, unaware of the demigods who struggled to their feet around her. Unaware of the way Cassidy cradled her body in their arms and sobbed until they were forced away from it. Unaware of the way Cassidy would spend the next half an hour crying and trying to scratch his own skin off in order to rid himself of the feeling of her blood on his hands. Unaware of the way he would never be able to look at his own hands again without seeing her blood or close his eyes without being reminded of her unblinking face staring up at him. She was completely and blissfully unaware as Thanatos collected her soul.