thinking about post-prank remus lupin who has NO FRIENDS and NO JOB and NO SNEAKY LINK. he gives the marauders the cold shoulder in the dorm room. he sneaks out in the middle of the night KNOWING the marauders are still awake. then he comes back to the dorm at 3 am, and passes out.
what’s he doing? talking shit with regulus.
their little ritual of meeting up to talk absolute dog shit about their friends started in remus’s third year when he was going through his little skinhead phase. regulus was having issues and would just read in the astronomy tower every night, until remus started showing up.
at first he’d tell him to fuck off, but regulus would eventually warm up to remus, forming a very quiet friendship.
remus would slowly stop showing up after gaining security in his friendship with the marauders, but was still nice to regulus.
that’s until the prank, of course.
post-prank remus CONSTANTLY visits the astronomy tower; he lives there. and so does regulus, even after all this time.
remus tells regulus all the shit his brothers been up to (leaving out the werewolf part, obviously) and regulus reciprocates the gesture with terrible tales about sirius.
eventually regulus tells remus about his weird attraction to james- how he gets flustered when james goes to shake his hand after a game of quidditch. how he even invites him to a few celebratory parties in the gryffindor common room. how it makes his head spin.
remus and regulus form a sort of alliance where the just complain about everything together. they don’t give advice, nor do they comfort each other- yuck. they just complain.
the thing about remus is that his friendships mend. they get fixed. he grows. remus doesn’t stay in the astronomy tower forever. regulus on the other hand, doesn’t have a choice. so when weeks pass without talking to remus, regulus remains bound to the quiet corner where they used to spend hours talking.
the strange thing about regulus and remus’s relationship is that it meant more to regulus than it did to remus, yet remus would act like regulus was his only real friend. until the marauders made it up to him again- leaving regulus alone yet again.
Regulus being a bitch and Rosekiller being Rosekiller
i have never prayed b4 but when ethel sang ‘but i keep praying and praying and praying’ I DIED
YEAH THIS GUYS GETS IT
huh? what's on my mind? oh, nothing much. ( i cant stop thinking about luke castellan humping your used clothes, sniffing your perfume and using everything you did to jerk off )
regulus’ last christmas with sirius
child of dionysus x luke castellan 🍷
IN WHICH… the man you hate just can’t seem to leave you alone
warning! this fic contains- swearing // alcohol mentions // shitty parents // use of y/n // angst // daddy issues! // spoilers to tlt // probably not book accurate // implied sex!! // no actual smut, but definitely heavy illusions to sex (both characters are 18) // loss of virginity // drugs (medicinal) // blood // reader wears a swimsuit?? // reader gender isn’t mentioned i think // mentions of death/drowning // ends on an cliffhanger!!!
[a/n]-we’re just going to say tlt takes place in 2005, so luke and will have been born in 1986. also, incase you didn’t know, Hera doesn’t have any demigods, so her cabin is empty :)
part two is in progress, just wanted to put something out until then. also kinda ends on an odd note because it wasn’t intended to be multiple parts
🎧- night shift by lucy dacus
6.6k words (oopsies)
You hated Luke Castellan above all else.
Coming from you, that was a pretty bold statement, considering that you had a fiery hatred for plenty of things. Whether it be people who smacked their gum too loudly or ignorant gods who brushed off their children with no remorse, everything seemed to unwillingly ignite a spark in you. However, someone in particular really seemed to piss you off.
The mere sight of his stupid curls and even stupider scar hadn’t always awakened such a burning rage in you; in fact, he used to do the opposite. He was fourteen when you first met him.
April 13th, 2000
Luke had been placed into the chaos of Cabin 11, the other campers unfazed by a new demigod living with them as they carelessly bumped into his shoulder while playing tag. Old magazines scattered the wood floors, and dust covered the edges of his scrappy bed. With a sigh, he threw his bag onto the floor and escaped the overwhelming sensations provided by his siblings.
The light tour Chiron provided was seemingly useless as he mindlessly waltzed down to the lake, unsure of another quiet space to go to. He performed a quick glance around to ensure he was really alone, and then plopped down onto the rocky shore with a groan. Without his father and now Thalia, he wasn’t sure if he’d survive a night at this bullshit camp.
“You okay?” You emerged from the woods, staring at him with a concerned expression. He jumped slightly, startled by your presence since he literally just checked to see if he was alone. “Oh, uhm, yeah.”
“Wanna talk about it?” You asked, noticing the way his tone was so unconvincing while sitting down next to him and staring out at the view. It wasn’t typical of you to be so welcoming, but you had recently received dessert privileges back after getting them taken away for punching some Aphrodite girl, so a cheery mood was accompanied. He glared at you, slightly annoyed by the way you interrupted his moment of peace. But then again, you weren’t really bothering him, so he figured you could stay. You were also breathtaking, so how could he shoo you away?
“No.” Luke replied honestly after a moment of silence, a slight grimace decorating his features while thinking about his long past.
“Fair. I’m sorry about your friend.” You said, your voice filled with empathy rather than pity as you kept eye contact with the horizon despite the cooling wind that turned your eyes glossy and ruffled your neon orange shirt. “Thanks.” He muttered as the memories flooded his mind, to the point where he had to clench his teeth together so he wouldn’t cry.
“I’m Y/N. Child of Dionysus.” Turning around, you offered a friendly smile until you realized he had his head buried into the crook of his elbow and emitted gentle sniffles. “Oh shit, I’m sorry. Did I say something? I’m trying to work on it, I swear-“
“Does it ever get easier?” He interrupted, although his request came out muffled as he whispered into his skin.
“Well… sorta.”
“Sorta?”
“You get used to the whole Greek God thing, I guess.” You reply, avoiding the question he was clearly implying about his father being present. It wasn’t one you typically liked to talk about, along with most of the other campers with daddy issues. The truth was, you hated the gods for abandoning their children, but speaking out about that would have some brutal consequences. Let’s just say you would lose more than just dessert privileges for a week.
“I’m heading down to the bonfire; you should join.” You said after another long pause of silence, standing up and dusting the particles of sand that had collected on the bottom of your denim shorts.
“Okay.” He stood up, wiping his eyes, and followed you as you hiked through the trees.
“So, why were you stalking me again?” Luke spoke up with a sarcastic tone, stepping over the large tree trunks that had fallen down onto the forest floor.
“Woah, I was not stalking you, newbie.”
“Sure looked like it when you magically appeared out of the woods.”
“Well, I wasn’t, okay? Mind your business.” You snapped, the caring facade slipping away as you stared at him harshly enough to pierce his heart.
“Jeez, sorry.” Luke looked down at his feet, feeling a little guilty for being too pushy with practically a stranger. After seeing his suddenly reserved body language, you stopped the hike and faced him.
“Don’t apologize.”
“What?” His gaze averted back up to meet your cold expression.
“Don’t apologize. I was being a bitch. Stand up for yourself.”
“Uhh..” Luke was now extremely confused, looking around as if this was some sort of prank show with the way you switched up so fast.
“Let’s try again. I’m gonna say the sane thing, and you’re going to stand up for yourself. Kay?”
“I don’t-“ He started, but was quickly interrupted by you.
“Well, I wasn’t, okay? Mind your business.” You repeated from earlier, making your voice sound even ruder as you dramatically exclaimed.
“N-no? Is that what I’m supposed to say?” He questioned, still nervously glancing around and searching for some sort of explanation or another person hiding in the undergrowth to reveal it was a silly joke. You raised your eyebrows in disbelief at his terrible performance, blinking slowly as you scoffed.
“Oh gods. It’s not what you say; it’s how you say it. Be more confident.” Stepping back, you repeated the sentence again. “Well, I wasn’t, okay? Mind your business.”
“No.” Luke said, this time with more pride, although he kept staring at you for a sign of approval. “Good!” You supportively with a grin, turning to continue your walk. And after a sassy eye roll, Luke followed behind.
“Just trying to protect you from the Ares kids. They can be assholes.” You happily explained, a little too cheery for someone who just snapped at him.
“Yeah, okay.”
Luke knew he should be bothered by your interesting behavior. I mean, most would, but deep down, he liked how you were empathetic in such a strange way. It made him feel human, instead of like a tourist attraction that people whispered sweet nothings to and stared at curiously.
“Don’t take anyone’s shit, and soon enough you’ll be swimming in kleos.” You stated, swaying with every step and providing plenty of hand gestures.
“Kleos?”
“Glory. Everyone here is basically fighting to be respected.”
“Oh. Shouldn’t everyone just be respectful?” He obliviously asked, ducking under a low, hanging branch.
“They should, but they aren’t. But with glory, it makes you important. People sit up when you walk in the room; stay out of your way; things like that.”
“Wait, so I just have to stand up for myself, and suddenly I’m all important?”
“Sometimes. Usually, though, you have to major in some skill. Archery, sword fighting, healing, etc. You been claimed yet?”
“Yeah, Hermes.”
“Oh.” You replied, dissatisfaction noticeable.
“Oh??” Luke questioned, offended and sounding a little more rude than he intended.
“It’s not really a bad thing. Just different demigods are usually good at certain stuff. With Hermes, they typically tend to be good liars.”
“What’s your talent?” Luke asked, causing you to go quiet for a minute while thinking.
“Well, I’m really good at poker. That’s about it.”
“You’re a good talker, too.” He said, causing you to shoot him a threatening glare.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean, you give decent advice, and you’re pretty welcoming. That’s a plus.” He instantly backtracked.
“Half of the camp would disagree with you on that. Turns out hostility doesn’t get you the best reputation.”
“You’re hostile?” Sure, you may have had a little anger management problem, but hostile? You seemed sweet enough to Luke, at least.
“I don’t talk to all the newbies like this.”
“Then why me?” Luke, from his understanding, wasn’t special. He didn’t stick out. He wasn’t super hot, smart, or funny. He was just average, in his opinion.
“Dunno. Why not?” You said, which wasn’t entirely true. He just seemed different, like he was hiding more beneath the surface. Similar to a puzzle that you needed to solve, except if you didn’t, you’d be burdened with a painful itch of curiosity for the rest of eternity.
“Hm, Fair. But what should I try to achieve kleos?”
“Don’t go for archery or healing; the Apollo kids will smoke you. Maybe sword fighting? I could show you the basics sometime.”
“Sword fighting it is.”
May 21st, 2001
"Where were you during arts and crafts?" You asked while sitting down next to Luke at lunch, clearly irritated by his absence during this morning's activities.
"I was-" He tried to explain, but you had already taken his hands and begun to inspect them, your touch shutting him up. You huffed in annoyance while gently tracing over his callouses and cuts.
"You were training again."
"I just needed more practice. I didn't mean to-" He started, feeling remorse for not showing up, but you were there to quickly interrupt him.
"Save it. I have bandages back at my cabin; let's go. It's the least you can do for leaving me with your siblings all morning." You slammed your hands on the table, standing up and practically dragging Luke to follow you (he would have followed even if you didn't force him).
Once a long distance away from the pavilion, you brought up a topic he wasn't the most comfortable with. "Training to prove yourself?" He swallowed back his anger, not wanting to lash out at you, despite the fact that you could obviously take it.
"Maybe I am. Who cares?"
"I do. Stop caring about the gods so much."
"Easy for you to say. Your father's here." Luke mumbled mockingly under his breath, barely above a whisper, but you heard.
"I'm not sure he even knows my name. He's a drunk dumbass, not exactly great dad material." This shut him up, his gaze traveling to the dirt floor until you reached Cabin 12. Silence and tension filled the air as you opened your backpack, scouring for the gauze and anticipatant. Gripping his wrist with a rage-filled force, you carefully rubbed the Neosporin over the red cuts and wrapped his palms with the stretchy material gifted by an Apollo friend.
"Don't say I don't care about you. You know I do." You whispered, breaking the quiet atmosphere and filling it with fiery love.
"But he doesn't."
"So?"
"He's my father. He should."
"You should stop focusing on what you don't have. Working yourself to the bone won't improve your relationship."
He didn't respond, not having an argument or a sassy comment whipped up, because you were right. He manufactured this mindset that if he was good enough, if he had glory, Hermes would finally notice him and would finally love him. However, there was always a little voice in the back of his head that made him doubt all of his hopes for a family. You just amplified that voice like a microphone.
"And you left me alone with your brothers. Bleh." You smiled, trying to lighten the mood a little while tying off the first bandage.
"C'mon, they aren't that bad."
"You should have heard how they were talking about Julia from Aphrodite Cabin."
"Ew." He laughed, looking at you while you concentrated on wrapping his last hand. You looked so stunning like this, with your pearly teeth peeking between the skin of your lips and your eyes squinting while focusing on making sure it was perfect. He was truly a dumbass, focusing on the gods while you were right in front of him. "Done." You said while tucking in the end of the gauze. He hinged his hand open and shut a few times to make sure it was sturdy, and of course it was.
"Thank you." Luke praised you, not just for patching him up, but for caring.
"Anytime. Hey, I made you something during arts and crafts." You dug through your plastic junk drawer, clinking around all the junk in search of something specific.
"Hm?"
You snatched up a small beaded necklace from the drawer before extending your hand and showing it to him. It was crumpled up, the flimsy string intertwined with itself and the beads out of order, so he picked the jewelry up and awed at the handmade piece. It was wooden beads painted in deep burgundy paint with your first name spelled out in Greek letters, strung on black elastic.
"It's gorgeous." Was all he could manage to utter out, still starstruck by the thoughtfulness of your gift.
"Thanks. We should probably get back to lunch before it's over." You replied, and for the first time in Luke's year of knowing you, you look flustered. You nervously glanced down at the laces to your shoes and fiddled with your fingers, even swaying from the tips of your toes to the back of your heels.
"Yeah, yeah." He agreed, slipping the necklace on and walking out with you behind him. For the rest of the day, he was all smiles and giggles, with others unsure of why he was in such a good mood. Until the inky night sky swallowed the bright blue light, and nightmares came with it.
Most demigods were prone to the occasional bad dream, but Luke was a frequent victim of Hypnos’ curse. Every other night was filled with images of losing what he loved, but he was too embarrassed to talk to someone about it, so he suffered silently.
That night, the dreams were particularly horrific, to the point where he awoke covered in sweat and probably some tears, too. His mind debated whether or not sneaking out and waking you up was a bad idea, but the thought of staying awake alone in his bed another minute scared him more than any profanity you could throw at him for interrupting your “beauty sleep.”
Tiptoeing silently outside the hot cabin, his heart pounded as he traveled to your room next door. He was still in flannel pajama pants and an old tee shirt with some vintage band plastered on it, the chilling wind erupting goosebumps.
Luckily, your bed was right next to a window, which he promptly (and quietly) tapped on to wake you up. A few groans and twists later, you slid open the glass and gawked at him.
“Luke, what the fuck are you doing?” You whisper-yelled, praying to the gods none of your siblings woke up and started bitching.
“I had a nightmare.”
“You woke me up at two in the morning because you had a nightmare?”
“Please, I just need someone to talk to.” Hearing the desperation and seriousness in his voice, you couldn’t possibly reject him, no matter how tired you were.
“I’ll be out in a second.”
Sliding the window shut, you slipped on some sandals and exited to see Luke, who was standing on the porch.
Walking down the steps with him tracking behind, you waited until you were isolated by the lake to talk. “Everything okay?”
“I don’t know. I’ve been having really bad nightmares lately, and I know that sounds stupid, but I don’t know what to do anymore.”
“Have you tried talking to the Apollo kids? It’s not rare for them to deal with insomnia.”
“Well, no. It’s humiliating. It’s taken me a year to talk to you about it, and you’re my best friend.” Luke skimmed past the term ‘best friend’, unsure if you felt the same. It was stupid; you were definitely his best friend, but what if he wasn’t yours?
“First of all, it’s not. But I don’t mind talking to them. I can say I’m having nightmares, and they’ll probably give me melatonin, and then I can give it to you.”
“You’d do that? Smuggle drugs for me?” He spoke softly, the moonlight enchanting his features.
“Course. You’re my best friend.”
December 27th, 2002
“Are you fucking kidding me?” You yelled at Luke in the empty Hera Cabin, angrier than ever. Word had spread to you like wildfire of a quest Luke had accepted, despite the fact it was a suicide mission.
“Listen-“
“No! You told me you didn’t care about the god’s approval anymore. And now you’re going on some bullshit quest?! You’re a fucking dumbass.”
“I just need one chance to prove myself to him.” He pleaded, begging for you to understand and forgive him, even though he knew you weren’t the “forgive and forget” type. Honestly, he was about 80% sure you were still holding a grudge against him for stealing the dessert off your plate three months ago.
“Why aren’t you happy where you are? You’re the best swordsman at camp in three hundred years; half the girls here are in love with you, and everyone practically worships the ground you walk on!”
“I don’t care about them.”
“Do you not care about me, either?” You spoke softly, which was a dramatic shift from the heated yelling a few seconds ago.
“What? Of course-“ Luke cared about you more than anything— more than himself or any silly god. It wasn’t very far-fetched to assume that he even loved you, although his anxious self would never admit anything of the sort. But this quest was a dream of his, and it wasn’t possible for him to just give it up.
“Whatever. I’m done with your bullshit.” You cut him off and stormed out, leaving him to watch you walk away with an aching pain in his heart. That wound was left open as he set out for his journey that night, along with two other campers who were slightly underqualified.
The quest went to shit the minute they left camp’s solace, with monsters attacking from every direction. However, he and his companions were able to make it to the guarded tree with only a few minor injuries.
Until Luke reached for the golden apple and was sliced by the dragon who protected the fruit. Blood gushed out of the cut that decorated his eye as he stumbled away. The loss of blood and shock caught up to him, and eventually he lay in the arms of his friends, fading in and out of consciousness.
The idea that your life flashes before your eyes when you're near death is indeed true. Memories of previous years flooded his brain, from his childhood to his teen years (which mainly consisted of you). As the light faded away, all he could think of was how he never admitted his love to you and how your last interaction with him was an argument.
The next time he awoke, he was in the camp infirmary, dazed as he slowly blinked the sleep away from his eyes. The teenage nurses yelled at him as he slowly stood up and deliriously walked outside, but he couldn’t care less. He just wanted to see you and apologize. His near-death experience was a wake-up call, a sign that what he was feeling towards you wasn’t just friendly admiration.
Luckily for him, you were waiting for him outside, sitting on a wood bench as you anxiously bounced your leg. As he stumbled out the door, you immediately stood up and rushed towards his weak body. What caught him off guard was the way you hugged him instantly, wrapping your arms around his torso while burying your head in his chest. For the first time in days, you were able to breathe, inhaling his musky scent rapidly. The fight had taken a toll on you. You lied awake at every night scared out of your mind that he would die hating you.
“I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things, I was just angry at you for leaving me, but-” You rammbled into the cloth of his shirt, the vibrations on his skin making his heart flutter.
“Don’t apologize.” He said with a loopy smile, making you laugh with relief while remembering the first time you met. His original plan of confessing his love to you the moment he woke up with a dramatic spiel was immediately thrown in the trash as he looked at you from above. The worries of ruining this magical friendship you had spent two years building overtook the joys of the possibility that a new relationship would blossom. So for now, he was comfortable being friends with you. Best friends.
The stares from others went unnoticed, Luke too enchanted by your warming touch to see the way others gawked at him from afar, like he was a monster. Not until the next day, when he wasn’t drugged, at least.
When he looked in the crowded bathroom mirror the next morning after plenty of rest, it almost scared him. His gash was a beaming red with dried maroon blood on the edges and a violet hue discoloring the nearby skin. Swallowing nervously, he did his best to clean it up with warm water before rushing to the picnic tables for breakfast, where you sat munching on cereal.
“You’re the most brutally honest person I know. How bad is it? Like, can I even show my face anymore?” He blurted out, causing you to glance up with a slight panic. After a few seconds of consideration, you replied.
“It makes you look badass.”
“Are you sure?”
“Definitely. Go get something to eat and come back to talk to me.” Luke responded with a nod, heading off to grab a quick breakfast. With a tray of pancakes in his hand, he returned and sat down across from you.
“So?” You waited eagerly for some explanation of his trip.
“It went like shit. You’re right, I’m not good enough.”
“Woah, I never said that.”
“You implied it.”
“That’s not what I meant. I meant you shouldn’t rely on your successes or failures to determine your worth.”
“Same thing.” He retorted with a scowl, stuffing his mouth with food.
“Not even close. So, what’d you learn?”
“That I need to train harder.”
“Holy shit, you are a dumbass.” You said with a long blink and a theatrical sigh.
“Can we talk about something else?”
“Sure. How’s Annabeth?” Annabeth and you were always so different, but somehow that made you closer. She spent her hours strategizing and acting like an adult, and you spent yours playing games and wishing you were younger. Regardless, she was like a little sister to you.
“She’s… like usual.” Luke replied with a crinkle of his lips.
“Mm, so she’s still forcing herself to be an adult at nine?”
“Yeah, just about.”
“We should get her to play poker with us one night. Help loosen her up a little.”
“Not a chance.”
March 19th, 2003
You and Luke stood side by side, anxiously waiting for Capture the Flag to start, while Chiron yapped about the rules. You’d already heard the whole spiel of instructions multiple times, so naturally you grew bored, and your mind wandered off to the boy beside you.
He looked like a true warrior, with his pointy metal helmet that somehow sharpened his features. Over the past few summers, he had grown significantly, and the puff on his cheeks had thinned out. Needless to say, he wasn’t short of admirers.
You painfully watched as hundreds of girls fawned over him and even began to dread getting ready in the bathroom because of how many praises were thrown at him.
Luke sensed your annoyance from afar, although it wasn’t hard to notice by the way you scowled every time someone approached him with a new compliment. However, he thought you were just envious of the praise he received. In reality, you felt threatened, like someone would steal your spot in your best-friend-who-sometimes-flirt-with-each-other relationship with him. He would never let it happen though, even if you weren’t aware.
“Let the games begin!” Chiron yelled, snapping you out of your daydreaming session.
“You take the east side of the forest, I take the west, we meet up in the middle, right?” You wanted to confirm the Athena cabin’s strategy with him, to which he replied with a quick nod.
“Mhm. See you on the flip side.”
“See you on the flip side, Castellan.” You both turned to the different small groups that you were leading, setting out on foot to start your plan.
Annabeth and a few other geniuses had spent the past two weeks carefully crafting a flawless plan for today’s Capture the Flag game. You and Luke would attack, traveling into their side of the woods, while the rest would defend.
While you might not have been the best swordsman, you were a master of trickery and deception and decent at fist fighting. Plus, you had a solid team backing you up.
“So basically, we just need to fight some of the red team and then meet up with Luke and his group in the middle. Kay?” You instructed to your acquaintances, who diligently followed behind you as you hiked through the evergreen trees, until you saw a few of the other team lurking around. With a surprise attack, you were able to defeat them, with little of your squad lost in the process.
You kept on trekking through the dark depths of the forest before spotting some of the best members of the red team, specifically Sam from Ares cabin.
They were the biggest asshole around, and extremely cocky for someone who was the second-best sword fighter in camp. Plus, they were always trying to get in your pants, along with every other counselor who was old enough. To be frank, they were super hot, but you weren’t interested in anyone currently. Well, anyone who wasn’t Luke Castellan.
Knowing you wouldn’t win this battle, you shuffled to the bushes and silently watched while thinking of a good plan.
“Nice try. Up. Slowly.” Sam said unexpectedly, causing you to sigh with frustration and calmly stand up, along with your teammates.
“So, you can either give up now and save yourself the trouble, or we can do the whole fighting thing and eliminate you that way. Your choice.” They stated with a smile, only egging you on.
“What a little bundle of joy you are.”
“Hm, okay, fighting it is.” They sliced for your stomach, the metal of their blade clinking with the iron of your breastplate. You were stunned at first, but immediately charged back while his goons attacked your friends.
The sound of swords slicing and heavy grunts filled the woods, alerting Luke, who was a decent distance away. Most of his teammates had been eliminated, so now it was just him and one other member. He lightly jogged to the scene, not caring too much.
Meanwhile, your group was putting up a solid fight, but so were they. You clashed swords relentlessly with Sam, while your teammates suffered a bloody battle. In a mere minute, all of your team had surrendered, but so had all of Sam’s team.
With every second that passed, your efforts got messier and energy your got lower, and it was apparent this wasn’t going to be your victory. With one clean slice, Sam nicked your arm violently, and you let out a scream in response. Unbeknownst to you, Luke heard your pain and panicked, changing his pace from a careless jog to a speedy sprint. His partner yelled at him, confused, but Luke just kept going, despite his muscles that ached like fire.
You grew exhausted, now just weakly defending yourself from every attack. Seeing how unfocused you became, Sam took this opportunity to swipe your feet with his leg and send you tumbling to the ground, disarming you in the process.
Both panting heavily, they shakily brought the blade to your neck and stepped on your torso to prevent less squirming.
“You’d be a lot hotter if you weren’t such a bitch.” They said, and before you could come up with a witty reply, Luke had charged from behind. Slicing at Sam with adrenaline-fueled anger, he instantly knocked them down to the floor.
“Don’t ever talk to them like that again, or I’ll seriously fuck you up. Okay?”
“Okay, Jesus! What are you, their boyfriend or something?”
Luke wasn’t sure how to reply, so he didn’t. Was this too protective of him? No, he was just helping a friend. Right?
“Just say you surrender already.” He mustered up.
“Fine, I surrender.” Sam mumbled, and Luke took his sword away while they fled. Then, he turned to you, who was watching the whole thing from the floor.
“Holy shit, thank you.”
“Anytime, sweetheart. They hurt you?” He replied with a grin, helping you up with his right hand.
“Nothing bad.” You responded, twisting your arm to get a glance at the cut. He winced with empathy while grabbing your wrist so he could get a better glance.
“Ouch. Go to the infirmary. It’s bleeding a lot.”
“Whatever. Go get the flag, trooper.”
You didn’t have to tell him twice. With a sly salute, you both headed your separate ways. Luke had a pep in his step as he jogged to the bright flag, forgetting all about his partner, who was somewhere in the trees far behind him.
You headed to the nurse, getting it cleaned and patched up easily before setting off to the lake. Sitting on a pointy rock, you waited mindlessly for this stretched-out game to end. Technically you were still in, but your match with Sam was enough fighting for the day.
Luckily, you didn’t have to wait long, because Luke emerged from the forest a few minutes later carrying a gleaming red flag with pride.
Standing up, you cheered with excitement as you ran up to him, squealing like a little girl. He stopped in front of you and dug the pole into the rocky shore with a grin. Still in awe, all you could manage out was a toothy smile in reply.
“Congrats, Castellan.”
“Eh, it was no big deal.” He joked, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.
“Whatever. Bonfire tonight!!” You laughed and made sure to yell out the last sentence for all of your teammates, who whooped with glee.
When the sun drifted down the horizon that night, you and dozens of campers headed down to the shore, where a sparking fire raged. The flames danced as you sat around, scattered on different logs. You currently sat on the floor next to Luke while he sat on the wood, leaning your back against the dead tree and ever-so-slightly brushing up against his legs.
Everyone had noticed your change in attitude over the last few years. You seemed bubblier and more happy because, well, you were. Falling in love with someone who had a chance of reciprocating feelings was heaven. Every long stare from across the room and gentle touch made your skin crawl with adoration. Maybe you should tell him. But why ruin everything?
As the night stretched on and the violet sky dissipated into a jet black that was freckled with stars, you grew sleepier. And after the third yawn in only ten minutes, you decided it was time to hit the hay.
“Okay, I’m calling it quits. Night guys!” You stood up before turning to Luke.
“Goodnight, Luke.” You whispered in such a caring tone that he felt shivers down his spine. Speechless, he watched with hearts in his eyes as you walked away.
“At least try and be discreet.” One of his friends laughed as soon as your figure went unseen.
August 2nd, 2004
“Absolutely not. No way!” Annabeth yelled at you.
You, Luke, and her all sat on the floor of Cabin 12 playing Uno because apparently gambling “isn’t appropriate for an eleven-year-old.” The problem was that you liked to make up your own rules, while Annabeth strictly stuck to what was written in the instructions.
“Beth, everyone plays this way! Just take your six!”
“If your friends jumped off a cliff, would you?” She gave you her signature death stare.
“What are you, my mom? Luke, what’s your opinion?”
“Do not drag me into this.”
“I quit. I’m heading down to the lake, you guys wanna come?” You stated, slamming your mountain of red cards onto the floor and jumping up to search for a bathing suit in your dresser.
“I have archery training.” Annabeth said, grabbing her stuff and walking out.
“I’ll go.” Luke replied a little too eagerly.
“Okay. Meet me at the docks in ten?”
“Sure.” Using his bandaged palms to push off the wood floor, he left to go change.
Slipping into your black swimsuit, you threw a baggy shirt over it and skipped down to the shore, where Luke was waiting with his feet in the icy water.
“Hey.” You alerted him of your presence while sliding off your cover and tossing it down beside you. His breath hitched, and he couldn’t help but gawk at the slivers of your exposed skin. Nervously swallowing, he weakly replied. “H-hey.”
Ignoring the way he stuttered and stared, you jumped into the cool lake. The blue water engulfed you in a refreshing embrace, rolling off your skin as you emerged from the surface.
“I’ll race you to that buoy over there.” You pointed to the white float that bobbled up and down.
“Deal. Winner gets loser’s dessert for a week.”
“Deal.” You took off before he was even in the water, pushing off of the wood dock to accelerate forward.
“Cheater!” Luke yelled playfully before jumping in and following your path.
Eventually, he caught up and even reached the buoy first, grinning triumphantly as you paddled towards him.
“I hate you.” You mumbled, but the beaming smile plastered on your face told another story.
“Fine, you can keep your dessert privileges, but I still want bragging rights.” He offered, not caring a smidge about anything but making you happy.
“Gods, you’re such a good person.” You said, knowing you would have taken his food and flaunted on him for the next seven days.
“Race you back?”
“Fuck no. I’m tired.”
“I’ll carry you. The waters not too deep; you can sit on my shoulders while I walk.”
“You’ll drown.”
“I’m pretty ripped; I think I can manage carrying you one hundred yards.” He jokingly replied with a flex of his bicep, which was definitely appreciated by your wandering eyes.
“Sure. I’m not saving you if you do end up drowning, though.” You climbed onto his shoulders, and he gripped your calfs to help stabilize you and because he really just wanted an excuse to touch you.
“That’s a pretty badass way to die.” He said while trailing through the fresh liquid.
“To die while swimming through five-foot-deep waters?”
“Well, not when you phrase it like that.”
“How would you phrase it?”
“Glorious hero meets his fate at the lake with another counselor’s thighs wrapped around his head.”
You both froze with shock when he uttered his suggestive remark, even Luke not realizing his mistake until after. He felt his cheeks go hot and nervously tried to apologize for making you feel uncomfortable.
“Oh my gods, I swear I did not mean-“
You cut him off with a deep and angelic laugh, clearly not hurt by his poor choice of words.
“You’re a dumbass.” You choked out through heavy giggles, and he instantly relaxed upon realizing you didn’t think he was a complete pervert. Every laugh you released was like a weight off of his shoulders, and that was when he knew he could not shove his feelings down anymore.
Hours had passed, and you two ended up watching the sun fall by the lake while sharing a cherry red and white striped blanket. Not a word was whispered as you rested your head against his shoulder, his curls dripping onto your skin. He couldn’t help but smile as he felt your slow inhalation of the crisp air.
Once night arrived and the cicadas started chirping, it was finally time to break the comforting silence.
“I’m gonna go shower.” You said while slowly standing up and letting the towel drape off of your body.
“Me too.” Luke replied, getting up and placing the towel back on your shoulders so you wouldn’t have to brace the chilling breeze in a swimsuit. As you walked away, he couldn’t help but stare.
“Wait, I need to talk to you once you’re done. Meet me in the Hera Cabin after we’ve showered?” He called out after you, to which you nodded in response.
He needed to confess how he felt about you immediately, or his chest might actually explode. He needed to tell you about how his heart raced every time your touch lingered a second too long, how he ranted to Annabeth every night about the things you did that made him swoon, and how he was madly, head over heels, in love with you.
Once the musk of lake water had fully washed off, you headed to the infamous empty cabin, where Luke was waiting. His hair was still wet from the shower, causing his curls to separate, and he fidgeted with his fingertips while anxiously waiting for your arrival.
“You okay, Castellan?”
“No, I’m not, actually. I need to tell you something, like right now.” He stuttered out, his lip crunched up like he was in pain.
“You’re scaring me a little, but I’m all ears.”
“I love you.” Luke blurted out, the tension in the air increasing significantly with just three words.
“What?” It seemed as if the world had stopped, even the birds quieting down for a listen.
“I’m in love with you.” He repeated, like it was no big deal, like it was second nature.
“You love me?” You whispered out, almost like it was unheard for you to be loved.
“More than anything.”
You swallowed, thinking for a second while he awaited a response.
“I love you too.”
With the conformation of your words, he leaned in until the tips of his nose rubbed against yours. His lust-coated eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips, making it apparent what he wanted. Luke breathed in your fresh scent heavily while watching and waiting for a reaction—for you to pull away or do something.
Trailing a hand up into his hair, you delicately pushed his head until your lips met. His skin was honey-sweet as you gingerly kissed; it looked like something out of a romance movie. He forced himself to be a gentleman and pull apart after a few seconds, no matter how much he wanted to kiss you until his oxygen ran out.
Looking up into his eyes, you craved more. This built-up tension between you two was finally erupting, and it needed more than just a little kiss to be satisfied. So, you took charge and feverishly leaned in for more.
His hands cusped your cheek, carefully avoiding any boundaries you might have set up. That was until you snagged his bottom lip with your teeth, and he lost all self-control. The sweet kisses turned into a full-blown make-out session as he steadily snaked his hand down your torso and to the fat of your ass.
Only breaking for air when absolutely necessary, passion filled the atmosphere, along with hushed moans from the both of you. Luke warily trailed his hand upwards to your chest, and you could tell where this was heading. Panting, you removed your lips from his and spoke up.
“I’ve never.. I’m still…”
“Me too. Do you.. still want to?” He revealed, his heart racing while still daintily grazing your skin.
“Yes. Please.” You desperately nodded, like death was approaching if you didn’t continue. With that, he laid you down on the squeaky mattress of an unused bunk bed and hovered over.
“Gods, you look stunning.”
୨୧
part two in progress…
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luke masterlist // request & talk to me here
you don't understand nobody ever will I need regulus black to fuck me pound me dick me down I need him in me alright I just need him for myself fuck medicine reggie can heal me. please Christ I need him fuck ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
anywho goodnight love
reggie </3
Angst
Luke Castellan x Apollo!fem!reader
Parties were secret affairs at Camp Half-Blood.
Well, secret from Chiron, the one who would put an end to them. Mr D. could usually be convinced by one of his children to keep quiet if a dash of something alcoholic was poured into his Diet Coke. Once curfew had passed and all the younger children had been safely and snugly tucked in and Chiron and Mr D. had retreated to Big House, all those involved would gather in one of the emptier cabins that had older campers. The Hypnos kids would place a sleeping spell on the younger kids that belonged to the cabin hosting the party.
And then the fun would begin.
The alcoholic beverage supply was not immense, but there was enough provided from older Hermes campers to get, well, severely wasted.
Luke knew that path hadn’t been your initial idea, but you were well on your way there.
He on the other hand, hadn’t drank that much, stopping after he noticed just how much you had been drinking.
You weren’t usually like this. As a daughter of Apollo you were intelligent and responsible, a trusted head counsellor and a masterful healer. It was usually he causing mischief and getting hurt, and you patching him up and reprimanding him.
How the roles had reversed. Instead of your modest camp uniform and demeanour, you were in ripped jeans and a striped tank top and had converted into an absolute entertainer, lighting up the room. You weren’t acting like a semi-rowdy nineteen year old anymore, but a fully-wild twenty-five year old college student. He wished he was as drunk as you, because it seemed you were having the time of your life from how enthusiastically you were laughing with a random Ares girl you had traded drinks with.
Instead he was the only vaguely sober one in a crowd of drunk late teens playing inappropriate games or dancing. It wasn’t fun anymore.
The games were the only thing that kept him there.
“Ok… y/n,” one of your sisters - he couldn’t tell in the dim light, Apollo children all looked golden - drawled, pointing insistently to you. “Do a dare or spin the bottle!”
He observed as you appeared to think, contemplative as you sipped beer - gods you needed to stop drinking, please - before reaching for the glass bottle on the floor. The small crowd cheered and squatted in a wonky circle, Luke joining them and sighing lightly.
He hated this game. Hated how you would happily kiss anyone. He wished in these moments that he did have the courage to talk to you, to tell you how he felt and sweep you off your feet. And then it would be him you would kiss and hold hands with, and he would take care of you and do anything to make you laugh.
But instead you kissed others.
Finally, after a few clumsy grasps of the bottle, you drunkenly clutched it before giving it a rough spin. It whirled around and around noisily, colours shining off of it, and at that moment he loathed that gleaming glass neck, loathed it with a passion for pointing at everyone but him-
For not-
Pointing at him.
At him.
And by some miracle, by some grace from the Gods, it was pointing at him.
His heart raced wildly and he struggled to breathe as he glanced up at you. You were already looking at him. Your eyes looked golden in the light, and your hair covered most of your face, hiding your expression. He inhaled and exhaled shakily, hoping to calm down as he waited for your move.
You stayed still.
Still.
Still.
Maybe this was awkward for you, he suddenly realised, panicking. After all he was your best friend, of course it was weird to kiss your best friend. In fact you were probably waiting for him to call it off, but he’d taken so long to understand, he was an idiot.
“It’s o-okay,” he stuttered, cursing himself, “you don’t-“
You pounced at him, your lips smashing together. Immediately his mind went blank. It was burning, passionate, fierce, and somehow infinitely better than anything he’d ever guiltily dreamed about as he lay awake. He noticed vaguely that you’d landed in his lap and wrapped your arms aggressively around his neck. He was much more preoccupied by your lips, how they moved against his perfectly. How when you were this close to him, you smelled like chocolate chip cookies. How your lips and mouth and tongue tastes like flawless hot spun sugar. How you were into this, and into him. How all of his dreams had come true and maybe this wasn’t a terrible night.
And then you dragged a hand through his curls and it felt so good he had to fight not to groan, ugh.
“Get some, Castellan!”
“Something’s getting a little hot in here.”
And this meant nothing, he realised suddenly as the catcalls continued, his thoughts returning. Because this was all an act, something to impress the others and make them laugh from your boldness. Luke was just the pawn, something to elevate you higher-
He felt sick, his lips slowing, before stopping completely, pulling away from you. He faked a weak smile, drawing his face further away from yours and avoiding eye contact. He didn’t want to see the drunken humour in your eyes.
“Ok, your turn next!!” Someone yelled, and it was all over.
——————————————
So it stayed, an almost torturous existence before he noticed your eyelids drooping as you sleepily accepted the Ares girl’s shot glass. And finally, finally, he had an excuse to get out of this hellhole.
He walked over, dodging campers all around, before he approached, putting a gentle hand on your shoulder.
“Hey, y/n,” he said softly, “I think we should get outta here. You seem kinda tired and so am I.”
“How did you know that?!” You asked incredulously, spinning around to him in shock.
“That you were tired?”
“Yeah!”
“Oh,” he chuckled awkwardly, “your eyes are all droopy, it’s kinda obvious.”
“Huh. Well, y’know what, I kinda agree. Let’s go.” You shrugged, waving to the Ares girl as you walked with him. You linked arms and he tried to act normal. You two never shared this much casual contact.
“What’s her name?” Luke asked, focusing on his surroundings, as you walked out the door.
“I have no idea,” you replied cheerily, breaking from him and taking a leap off the step. It didn’t end well, with you tripping and falling in a heap on the damp and cold grass.
“Are you ok?” He asked, knelt over you and concerned. You giggled, nodding and accepting his hand as it pulled you up.
“Ok, just- let me- hold onto me, ok?” He said, looping an arm around your shoulder to keep you steady. He held on as you laughed like a little girl and clung to his t-shirt all the way to your cabin.
The stars were nice tonight. For once, you could see them, like billions of shimmering white dots in the skies and it really added to the peace of the scenery. The air was cooler, there were no people, and it was so much quieter. More serene. He felt as if he could breathe. He glanced at the stars once more as he led you up the stairs to your door, before dropping your hand. Or trying to. You didn’t let go.
“Good night,” he whispered, giving your hand a squeeze and trying again.
Your grip wouldn’t loosen.
“Luke,” you murmured breathlessly, stepping forward, bringing your joined hands to your chest. He could feel your breath, warmth, pulse. Fast. Like his. “Why are you….”
“What?”
You looked as if you were going to say more, but couldn’t find the words, instead stepping even closer, and he could feel your joined hands compressed between your two chests. His chest was still, his breathing completely halted as your eyes observed him delicately, his eyes, nose, scar, jawline, cheeks, mouth, as if he was a priceless painting.
You met him once again.
It was softer this time. Your lips still moved in sync, but it was sweeter, calmer. If the other kiss had been caramel, this was smooth, gorgeous honey. As if you had all the time in the world to dazzle him with your smooth kisses. You probably did. Your hands were slower as well, leaving warm trails all over as they made their way down his back, over his sides and under his shirt, where your fingers traced the hard contours of his chest. He had to restrain the urge to shiver violently at your touch.
You pulled away a fraction, warm breath hitting his lips. “Come inside. Stay over.” You panted against them.
He wanted to. Tiptoeing in with a smile on his face and crawling into your bed, with you beside him? His dream. Being tangled in your bedsheets, waking up with every limb of yours and his twisted together, and your hair splayed over his chest? His Elysium.
But you were drunk, deeply drunk. And if he was ever lucky enough to experience any of that, he wanted to have the real event, where alcohol didn’t influence your willingness. He wanted you to be sober.
“I can’t.” He withdrew from you, out of reach. “You’re drunk and I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.”
“What do you mean?”
“Y/N, I’m your best friend, you don’t like me that way. You’re just drunk.”
“Yeah. Like super drunk.” You affirmed, nodding enthusiastically. “But that doesn’t change anything. I like you sooo much-“
No. Luke wouldn’t hear this. After liking - maybe even loving - you for this long, your drunk, confused notions would hurt him too much. He refused to listen.
“C’mon let’s get you to bed so your hangovers not too bad.” He interrupted, taking your arm and leading you into the cabin. “We’ll talk about this later.”
Needless to say, you would never talk about it again if it was up to him.
He left quickly, once you were tucked in, before you could give him a response, with a hurried ‘goodnight’.
Once he was tucked comfortably in his own bunk in cabin 11, he pondered the night’s events. A whole lot of drinking. Stupid games. Not one, but two kisses. Even if they meant… nothing. They were nice either way, and probably the only two he would ever get from you.
————————————————-
The next day, he admitted, was a disaster on his behalf.
He’d had a strong plan to pretend nothing had ever happened. And then while he was getting dressed, four of his siblings wolf-whistled and smirked when they saw him. Clearly not something everyone had forgotten.
And when he saw you at breakfast, wincing slightly and looking drowsy, the moment your eyes had flashed to his, all he could think about were the kisses. He couldn’t see straight, and stumbled while he grasped his breakfast tray, and before he knew it, he hadn’t even said hello to you.
The avoidance gradually increased. After breakfast, he steered clear of you, going straight to his class with younger demigods. He didn’t make an effort to accompany an injured camper to visit you, instead sending one of their friends with them. And during lunch, where he’d usually visit you at the infirmary and bring food, he stayed at Hermes table, with nervous feet rooted to the floor.
He could tell by dinner, you were confused, hurt even, from the glances you were sending to him. And he wanted to go over, make it up to you by sitting beside you and telling you one of the Stoll’s latest schemes, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do so. It was like he was a shy toddler all over again, clinging to his mother’s leg, and he was so embarrassed for it.
That night, he swore the next day he would be better about everything. Be honest, available and just see how things would go from there. You guys had been through anything. Surely you couldn’t let each other down for this.
He woke early, with a clear mind and went to retrieve breakfast for him and you. Finding you in the infirmary, rolling bandages, he took a deep inhale before stepping in, ready.
“Hey,” he greeted, cringing a little at himself as you dropped the bandage in surprise, and watching as it rolled all over the umber planks in white streaks.
“Oh, uh, hey,” you replied, scrambling to pick it up and sending him a distracted smile. Not the greatest start, but he could improve.
“Sorry I haven’t been around. Been busy, around the place with new campers, y’know,” he lied, feeling guilty, “funny, haven’t actually seen you since we-“
“Hung out at the party?” You interrupted, nodding.
What? Hanging out? Just hanging out did not qualify ignoring him till the party was over and then two kisses and an almost-confession.
Unless you didn’t want to acknowledge the truth. Apparently, this was the case.
“…. Yeah.” He hesitantly agreed, searching your eyes for any signs you might want to take back what you said.
You wouldn’t even meet them.
“Anyway,” he placed the plate down on the bench, faking a smile, “here’s breakfast. Have a great day.”
And as he walked out, disappointed that you had let him down, he couldn’t help but wonder how things would’ve turned out differently if you had been sober.
How he wished you had been sober.
REGULUS BLACK
“as i got older, i learned im a drinker.
sometimes a drink feels like family.”
remus will silently watch regulus from across the room no matter what.
a party? he's watching regulus hug dorcas and hand her a present, remembering how he helped him pick it out for her, holding his hand as they take the bus home to get ready. the library? admiring the way his fingers run down the page, or grip his pen, or move through his hair when he's concentrating. the club? he's watching the way regulus' hips move under the light, how their eyes meet with that familiar 'come here' motion from his finger. in their bedroom? he's watching regulus touch himself for him, just for him and only him.
remus is always quietly watching until he decides to join in.