Wow Ok Thanks What The Hell

thomas thorne is so baby girl

Okay, Fine, Maybe We're In Love!

Pairing: Regulus Black x Reader

Summary: Part 3 to Totally Just the Fifth and Sixth Wheel and Still Just Totally the Fifth and Sixth Wheel, You Guys. Regulus' resolve is crumbling, you are starting to realise the others might have a point, and there is a Quidditch game against Ravenclaw today.

Words: 6.7k

Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader, use of y/n, pining as per usual, bickering/banter/teasing, minor injury, minor fight, public displays of affection, best friends to lovers, mental spiraling over feelings, possible inaccurate depiction of quidditch, background dorlene and rosekiller

Note: this is so much later than i promised, BUT it's also longer so... fair deal? it's been so sweet how many of you requested this one, hope it lives up to your expectations<3 final part

Regulus rarely had dreams that were not nightmares, but when he did, they were of you.

Something he never gave much thought to, it was a given for him – he spent most of his waking time with you, it only makes sense that you sneak into his dreams. If you were bathed in a soft, ethereal glow in each one, Regulus did not let himself notice.

As he turned in his emerald sheets, face twisting into the pillow, consciousness started its pull on him while his mind still remained in his dream, you were all he saw.

The dream had started simply. It was you and him, sitting on one of the low stone walls on the castle grounds, somewhere half-hidden by ivy, a soft breeze rustling through the trees. Away from pestering friends and professors, just the two of you, finally allowing peace to settle in his heart. Your knee was brushing his from where you sat close by him, and your scent was filling his nose, in an overwhelming way he did not quite think possible. You were talking to him, but Regulus had no idea what you were saying, only that you were laughing and your hand was on his shoulder as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

He was saying something to you, and you smiled at him, all brightness and warmth, the one he knew you reserved for people you actually trusted. It glowed in a hazy way he knew to be the product of the dream he was becoming increasingly aware was a dream, but he let himself bask in it. The way you looked at him – really looked at him, eyes dark and deep and full of something he didn’t know if he was allowed to name – made his chest tighten. He felt your fingers curl slightly into his arm, pulling him closer, and he knew he could lean in and–

In the surreal way dreams sometimes shift, he was in the middle of kissing you. Hands already cupping your face, holding onto you like a lifeline. Your lips were soft and he was floating with a strange weightlessness as he fell deeper and deeper into you, like you were the only real thing in the world and a world in and of yourself all at the same time. You responded to him with gentle sighs against his lips that filled his mind and turned it into a whirlwind. Your hands were scorching hot against him as you pulled him closer, a heat that should hurt but instead was something he savoured. It was warm and sweet and completely, blissfully easy, like something he had done a thousand times.

It was a moment that felt like it should stretch on forever, never-ending, but with a thud on the horizon of his consciousness, your face was replaced with his pillow and your arms with his duvet.

Sigh.

For a few brief, hazy moments, he half-expected to open his eyes and see you there beside him, maybe giving him that slightly incredulous look you got whenever you thought he had done something too sentimental. Like a deer caught in headlights. Instead, all he saw was the dim light of his dorm room, and he realised with building force that it had been a dream. Better yet, that he was dreaming about kissing you. His lips tingled with the ghost of that kiss, as if you had actually been there, as if he could just close his eyes and fall back into it. Into you.

Regulus swallowed, his chest tightening as the dream slipped further from his reach, leaving only the hollow ache of waking up. Kissing you was the last thing he should be thinking about – you were his best friend, dammit, someone who kept insisting that friends were all you were. It was clear cut. Yet, that was all he had been thinking, and now dreaming, about ever since Hogsmeade. If he was being honest with himself, he had for years, he just had not allowed himself to acknowledge it. Minds are fickle things, what they conjure up after dark holds no merit. Yet his heart was the one getting increasingly involved, and that was harder to ignore.

Propping himself up on his elbow he looked towards his canopy as if it held an answer to his predicament. When all he was met with was silence, he shook his head as if it would knock out his thoughts, curls messily spilling into his vision.

It's nothing. It's stupid. Ignore it.

No matter how many times he told himself it was just a stupid dream, he couldn’t stop thinking about the way your hand had rested on his shoulder, the softness of your lips, the warmth of your smile. The dream lingered just out of reach, but when he imagined himself grabbing at it, all he saw was you.

Bollocks.

"Oi, Reg!"

Regulus looked up to where Barty was sitting on his own bed, already tying his shoelaces and grinning at him through the green strands of hair falling into his eyes. "What's got you in a tizzy, mate? You look like someone hexed your pillow."

"It's not like you to be the last to wake up," Evan grumbled from behind him, working on buttoning his pants.

"And what a joy it is to wake up to the two of you," Regulus commented dryly before he wiped his hands harshly over his face, slinging his legs out to hit the ground.

"I'm glad you acknowledge it," Barty grinned. "Now, what'cha dream about?" There was a knowing gleam in his eyes that made Regulus roll his own.

"The match. Which I should be getting ready for."

It was gameday, Ravenclaw against Slytherin. A match that usually was considered in the bag, but the Ravenclaw team had truly been challenging everyone this year. Their beaters had grown aggressive and the other seeker was fast. It had been on his mind for the week leading up to it, so really, Regulus told himself, he wasn't really lying.

Nothing gets past Junior though.

"Cute deflection. Did you practise it in the mirror?" Barty asked smugly, continuing without waiting for a response. "We're more or less ready, we're just waiting for your dreamy arse."

"Glad to know you think my arse is dreamy," Regulus replied at the same time as Evan slapped Barty in the back of the head with his quidditch gloves.

"Ugh, you know what I mean!" Barty flopped back onto his bed, just as patient as always. "Hurry up now!"

Regulus had his strict morning routines to fall into, which he always thanked himself for when he woke up frazzled like this. He knew what steps to do when and how to speed up the process, allowing him to grasp onto a sense of control that always calmed his nerves.

Yet, you were still ravaging his mind.

What you were doing, who you were with. If you remembered to set aside time to meet up with him before the game, even though the two of you always did and you had never once forgotten. If he could get there – the stone wall outside the locker rooms – a bit earlier than you today to properly gather himself before he sees you.

If he would have the guts to kiss you.

That last thought he shook out of his head, trying to imagine it falling out of his ears and disappearing like a Healer once told him to when he divulged his struggles with intrusive thoughts. It usually helped, but did little for him today as the idea of kissing you kept falling back into the forefront of his mind. I can't, I can't, I can't.

I want to.

"You have that look on your face again." Barty once more cut into Regulus' mind's inner workings, gazing at him with interest from where his head was hanging upside down from the edge of his bed. Regulus was hurrying his way through his routine and barely spared him a glance, accustomed to his antics.

"What look?" He forced any hint of his emotional turmoil from his expression in preparation, as he began to pack his quidditch gear bag.

"I'm asking you," Barty drawled. "I already know, I'm just interested in if you know."

At the same time, Evan shot in from where he was waiting by the door. "You look like you're hoping someone is willing to go to Azkaban just to put you out of whatever misery you believe yourself to be in."

"Aren't you two cheery today?"

"Following your beautiful example, my boy." Barty grinned, moving to grab his bag as he could tell Regulus was almost ready. "Still can't believe we got up before you. I'm disappointed in you, for shame."

"Yeah, yeah," Regulus muttered. "You didn't have to get up yet, though, I always head off to the pitch before you."

Evan gave him a knowing look as the three of them moved towards the common room. "No, you always head off to meet with your good luck charm before the games."

"Tell our lovely Y/N that we say hi, by the way." Barty shot him another wide grin as he plopped down in an armchair by the exit. "We'll be focusing on the actual game plan."

Regulus chose to ignore the first part. "Your only game plan today is to keep those bloody Ravenclaw beaters off their brooms."

The groan that escaped Barty was entirely too loud and dramatic. "Salazar, they are annoying me."

"Then do something about it." Regulus gave him a pat on the shoulder as he began to move away, nodding to Evan who was sat too far away. "I'm off."

"Have fun with your girl!" Barty called as he exited, and he could barely hear him giggle to Evan about it before the door shut behind him.

Lovely silence. Regulus stood still and breathed it in for a second, but with Barty's voice out of his ears, it only gave ample space for yours to fill his head instead.

The walk to your usual meeting place felt like a practised choreography, his heart beating harder on the way up. Though you often laughed about how meeting outside is inconvenient, given the tendency for bad weather in Scotland, he was grateful for it today as he hoped the fresh air would clear his mind of you. Or at the very least, of kissing you.

It seemed that as much as you were an angel in his dreams, you were a bit devilish in reality, because when he turned the corner to your spot you were already there, leaning against the wall with that easy confidence you seemed to wear only in his presence, reading a book to pass the time.

"There's our seeker!" You greeted him with a hug and he fought back any panic in his face over your shoulder as he breathed you in, hands splayed delicately over your back.

"Good morning, love," he all but whispered back.

You pulled away from him all too quickly, leaning back against the wall with a mischievous smile that always seemed to undo him a little. "Ready to kick some Ravenclaw ass?"

Despite his hummingbird heart, the ease of being around you settled into his body at the sight of your smile, and it took him no effort to mirror it. "As ready as one can be."

"I mean, all you have to do is find a teeny-tiny golden sphere flying through the sky at high speeds. Easy, yeah?"

He loved when you were in your more sassy moods. He loved how you looked at him when you were. He loved–

"Super easy," he laughed. "That's why I always catch it."

You scoffed in place of saying well, duh and looked at him with mirth in your eyes. "Always?"

"Are you doubting me, amour?" If he didn't know better, Regulus would say your breath hitched at the nickname. Why would it, though, he calls you that all the time?

"Do I have any reason to?" you shot back, leaning a bit into him as if he would let you in on a secret.

"No, not when I have a pretty girl like you cheering me on in the stands." He said it breezily, feigning nonchalance, but studied your reaction intently. He revelled when he saw the faint pinch of your cheeks at that, indicating a blush, glad that he has some effect on you, too.

"Are you calling me your good luck charm, Black?" Regulus couldn't bite back the laugh at that.

"You know, Evan called you that earlier today as well."

You cocked a brow at him. "Really? Pray tell why?"

This time it was Regulus' turn to blush a little, and though he hoped you wouldn't notice, he also knew deep in his bones that you would. "Just him and Barty messing around as usual. They say hi by the way."

"I'll see them on the pitch in less than an hour," you laughed at your friends' antics. Any leftover tension in his shoulders eased out at the sound.

"You know how they are." Regulus' smile softened as he turned his body towards yours were it was leaned against the raw stone.

"Some causes are lost, indeed," you chortled. "Much like this game, of course, which Ravenclaw lost ages ago."

"That's the spirit of a true luck charm. Keep that up in the stands, yeah?"

"Of course. What can I say, I take my job very seriously."

When Regulus looked at you through his laughter, he knew you must be able to see every emotion flashing across his face. He could never hide, not from you. He let his eyes travel across your face, taking in every beautiful divot and crevice, fighting the urge to reach out and caress them with his fingers. What he could not fight, though, was his eyes flickering to your lips, memories of how they felt against his in his dream rushing through him once more. It would be so easy to reach forward and slot them with his, you were already standing closer than most people would. Even best friends like the two of you, and Gods, when Regulus thought that, he knew in his heart he did not just want to be best friends with you.

He almost did it, he swears he almost closed that gap – but then he looked up and met your eyes once more, saw the understanding, the confusion and the hesitation there, and he was knocked off course.

With a rough clearing of his throat, he broke the spell that had captured the two of you, even if just for a moment. "I should probably head off to meet with the team soon," he said, embarrassed at how raw his voice sounded.

You shook your head a little, clearing your own mind, and Regulus imagined thoughts falling from your ears. He desperately wanted to know what they were.

"No rest for the wicked?" you said with a smile, and he was almost jealous at how at ease you seemed.

"Not with the way Ravenclaw's been playing, no."

"You'll do great, Reg. As always." The softness of your voice did not go by him and his smile grew more genuine and assured.

"Thanks, amour. I'll look for you in the stands."

"And you'll find me there, probably surrounded by pestering friends and freezing my arse off." You all but giggled, and an idea formed in his head at impressive speed.

"Well, I can't have that," he laughed. Before he could think better of it, he opened his quidditch bag and pulled out his quidditch jersey. "Here, take this. It'll keep you warm for me."

His heart was hammering in his chest, but he managed to keep his hand steady as it held the Slytherin jersey between you. It was far from the first time you wore his clothes – though usually it would be classified more as stealing than just wearing – but he was aware that this type of hand-off held a different charge. The tradition of wearing your partner's jersey during their games was tried and true at Hogwarts. He could tell by the way your eyes flitted almost nervously from his jersey to his face, searching for an answer, that you felt the same way. By some miracle of courage, his resolve didn't falter.

At last, you put him out of his misery as you chuckled a little, taking the jumper from his hands, feeling the soft wool against your skin. "There'll be no confusing who I'm cheering on now," you said cheekily, turning the jersey over to where his name and number were printed in bold.

"Don't think there ever was any, to be honest," Regulus shrugged at you. "But if so, we have to set the record straight. What if Ravenclaw tries to steal you?"

"Can you imagine how much flack I'll get from your brother and his friends for wearing this?" you laughed, contradicting your own joking concern by beginning to pull it on over your own clothes.

Regulus furrowed his brows, unable to defeat the pang of insecurity in his chest. "If you're worried, you don't have to–"

"No, I want to. You gave it to me, it's mine now," you reassured him, holding your arms up in faux defence against him. Regulus let out a relieved laugh.

"Gonna have to go get a new extra one after this, I see."

"Clever boy."

He began backing away from you ever so slowly, face still turned towards yours with a smile. "I'll see you up there then?"

"Warm and toasty," you agreed, smiling brightly at him. "Break a leg."

Regulus stopped in his tracks, tilting his head at you, confused. "Why would you want me to break a leg?"

You shook your head at him with a smile. "You're such a pureblood. It means good luck."

"Ah, in that case, I'll break all my bones."

"Not what I meant!" you call after him, and just before he walks out of sight, he gives you a quick wink.

You're grateful that he is not around to see the flush that takes over your cheeks.

You're left reeling for several moments more than you're proud of. What just happened?

With your head still spinning, you headed off to the stands, feeling the weight of Regulus’ jersey on your shoulders like a warm reminder of that moment. Your fingers tugged at the edges of the jersey, trying to steady yourself, but every time you remembered the look in Regulus' eyes, the corner of his lips curving up just slightly as he handed it to you, your stomach flipped over itself. You had not allowed yourself to believe your feelings for him ran so deep, not until this moment, anyway.

Maybe you always knew, though, if you were being honest. Maybe you had always ignored it, because the alternative was terrifying.

Arriving at the stands, you spotted your friends instantly. Marlene waved you over, grinning, while James and Sirius were huddled close on each side of Remus, gesticulating wildly to each other about something. The latter looked prepared to be accidentally hit in the face any minute now. Peter was probably putting money on the match, judging by the low tones and suspicious glances he kept sending around. Lily and Mary were sharing a large Gryffindor scarf, leaning into each other for warmth.

“Oh, look who’s gracing us with her presence!” James shouted, dramatically clapping a hand to his heart as you arrived, while Remus, Mary and Lily each greeted you more quietly with soft smiles.

“And with a certain someone’s name on her back!” Marlene pointed out with a smirk, eyeing Regulus' jersey with devilish amusement.

You rolled your eyes, but before you could explain, Sirius zeroed in on it, eyes lighting up with mischief. “Is that my darling baby brother’s jersey?”

"He wouldn't like you calling him that," you said simply, taking your seat on the bench in front of the three boys and Marlene, painfully aware that it put the back of your jersey in their direct line of sight. Beside you sat Mary and Lily, whose smiles were warm but no less teasing.

"I'm not under the impression he much likes anything these days," Sirius huffed petulantly.

"Except you." Remus mumbled it so quietly you almost missed it, but you didn't. Neither did James and Marlene, if their snickers were anything to go off of.

"So," Marlene drawled, poking you slightly in the back. You have spent a decent chunk of time with her as of late through Dorcas, which unfortunately meant she had joined in on the teasing. "Is Regulus aware of you representing him loud and proud, or is this a bout of kleptomania we should be worried about?"

"You should always be worried, McKinnon. With shiny jewellery like yours, a confrontation with one of our household nifflers is bound to happen." You looked over your shoulder and smiled at her to show you mean no harm.

"You have household nifflers?" Mary asked curiously.

"Barty," chorused you, Marlene, Remus and Sirius with decreasing humour and increasing worry in that order. “And Pandora,” you added.

"And if you must know," you sighed while biting back a smile. "Regulus willingly gave me his jersey when I complained of the cold in the stands. You know these things are better adjusted to the climate." You waved the sleeve of the jersey slightly to demonstrate your point.

"Ah, what a true gentleman." Sirius' grin was bordering on wolfish. "I raised him right, I see."

Remus elbowed him, causing Sirius to dramatically fake a fall into Marlene. "You cannot teach what you don't know, dear Pads."

You smiled at how much more seamless your integration into the friend group felt, a true display of the work the Black brothers had put in. Though, you knew it would feel better if the younger of the two was here too.

At the thought, you turned your gaze towards the field, spying for a glimpse of your friends.

"Any thoughts on the game?" you asked absentmindedly to steer the conversation away.

"My only thought is that if those Ravenclaw beaters send even one bludger at Cas I will obliterate them next game." Marlene's words were laced with a malice you knew she was not scared to act on.

"Sentiment's shared," you all but whispered.

Sirius leaned forward – across poor Remus, mind you – to jostle your shoulders slightly. "Don't worry, bub, Reggie's the furthest away from action one can be."

"I'm not worried," you said simply, no reaction at practically being manhandled.

"I am!" Mary said then. "Quidditch's violent enough as is, we don't need Marlene and Sirius to have a vendetta for their next game."

"I've always found they play their best when they have a vendetta," James said through a sheepish smile. "Maybe some revenge-worthy offences would be helpful."

"Oi! You wishin' assault on my darling baby brother?"

With that, some more tussling occurred behind you, but you didn't deign to look around, just sighing through a smile. "Let me know if you need to escape to the front bench, Lupin," you threw over your shoulder.

"Don't mind if I do." His voice was already much closer to you as you saw the lanky boy scrambling into your right field of vision.

You turned to look at him half-incredulously, laughing when he wore what must be a mirrored expression. When he chuckled along with you, the lines around his eyes crinkled.

"Look at the in-laws cahooting together," Marlene cooed from beside Sirius and James, unaffected by their scuffle.

Remus' hand stretched over your shoulder towards Marlene in some gesture you couldn't see. Her gasp clued you in on what it was, though.

At last, you saw the small green figures walk out on the pitch, brooms in hand. You could barely make out Barty trying to climb onto Evan's shoulders, while Regulus and Dorcas were chatting, faces turned towards the stands.

You couldn't help the skip of your heart or the immediate grin that took over your face as you waved – as casually as possible, due to current company – to them both. Perhaps mostly the former, though.

Even from a distance, you could see how Regulus lit up, waving back at you in a more dramatic gesture than you would expect from him. At the same time, Marlene stood up behind you and wolf-whistled at Dorcas, waving at her with even more theatrics. The poor girl on the pitch turned her face away, whether to laugh or cringe you were unsure, before she gave a small wave back.

"You're really going for it, Marls," James commented happily.

"With more success than you've ever had, Jamie."

Suddenly Marlene was included in the squabble behind you.

On the pitch, the teams lined up in front of each other and mounted their brooms before flying into formation. Ravenclaw blue and Slytherin green decorated the otherwise grey skies adorning Hogwarts' landscapes today.

"Welcome to this most anticipated match between Ravenclaw and Slytherin!" Pandora's voice floated through the stadium, somehow still as elegant while booming. "A match where I must admit I am conflicted, my house versus my twin, but alas today is not about me."

Her light oddities brought a sense of familiar calmness through you as Pandora began to outline the scores so far in the season and what this match would mean. You wonder if that was why she was chosen as commentator.

When she introduced Slytherin's team, you beamed with pride, paying closer attention. "And of course we have the stoic Regulus Black, who is looking rather dashing in his green jersey, which the lovely Y/N has dutifully matched today it seems."

Just like that, calmness was replaced by a painful flush shooting across your face, both at the incredibly public comment and the immediate hoots and hollers and yeahs that exploded from behind you.

The unsuppressed giggle from Pandora revealed her intentions. Clearly, she's spent too much time with Barty, you decided.

"He is rather dashing, isn't he, Y/N?" James asked from behind you.

"If you spent more of your time complimenting Evans, maybe she'd actually go out with you," you said drily. To emphasise your point and feeling perhaps emboldened by the Gryffindor bravado that engulfed you, you looked at both Mary and Lily. "You two look beautiful today, by the way."

The girls smirked at you and you could hear James guffawing behind you.

Remus bumped his knee against yours with a sly smile. "I must say, you're fitting right in with your in-laws."

"Don't start," was all you offered, but your smile held more warmth after that. Remus held up his hands in a display of innocence, but his laugh betrayed any pretence.

The sound of the whistle alerted you all to the game being in motion.

Players zoomed across the field at speeds that would tighten any friend's heart, gracing you with some silence from those around you as everyone zeroed in on the game. Regulus flew around the pitch, keeping out of the way, but close enough to pay attention. You could tell how alert he was even from a distance, ready to twist after the snitch at any given moment, even before it came into play.

Pandora continued her commentary with her typical flights of fancy, describing the players’ movements like they were graceful choreographies and making odd analogies that half the stadium likely didn’t follow. “Ah, and Ravenclaw’s beater winds up to swing like a very determined house elf polishing silver. Look at that tenacity!”

Regulus looked so in his element out there, still his assertive, poised self, but with a decisive ruggedness about him. It almost made you want to play alongside him, to witness this version of him as well.

With the years you had found you wanted to see every version of Regulus.

Even with your distractedness by overwhelming emotion that just wouldn't stay away like you instructed it to, you saw the moment Regulus caught sight of the snitch. His body gave little reaction as to not give away that he had seen it, but the increased speed and determinism of his broom could not be mistaken.

You found yourself sitting on the edge of your seat, watching his every move. You could hear the exact moment James, Marlene and Sirius – in that order – recognised it as well.

"Come on, Reggie," Sirius whispered. You weren't sure if he knew he had said it.

With your eyes fixated on Regulus, you barely registered when the Ravenclaw team realised the snitch had been spotted. Their seeker hauled around, following Regulus, but she was too slow. Excitement built in your chest, victory within Regulus' reach. The small golden sphere was close to his broom now, enough that Regulus made to grasp at it, when another ball came into view, bigger and darker.

The bludger collided into Regulus' elbow. A second one immediately went for his head, which he was barely able to dodge, but it still made connection with his upper chest.

You jumped up from where you stood, a yell of fear and protest already making its way out of your lungs before you could think. A collective gasp went through the crowd before the stands erupted in boos at the clear foul.

In the skies, Regulus barely kept his balance on his broom before Dorcas was at his side, stabilising him. You could see him flinch when she accidentally grabbed at his hurt elbow. The whistle went off before any further developments in the game could occur. For a moment you thought it was due to Regulus' injury, before you caught sight of Barty and Evan engaged in mid-air fist-fights with the Ravenclaw beaters.

Good.

As Dorcas steered Regulus downwards to the Healer's station on the side of the pitch, underneath a makeshift rooftop, there were few thoughts that went through your head other than Regulus' name.

Regulus, Regulus, Regulus.

Which is the only explanation you had for why you ran out of the stands with no hesitation nor explanation.

You could barely hear Sirius and the others call after you, but you were already taking the stairs three at a time, making your way down to the pitch – making your way to the Healer's station. Your brain didn't turn on again before you saw Regulus, already sitting down beside the 7th year interns of Madam Pomfrey who were wrapping up his elbow.

His face was wrung up in a pained grimace, which he quickly tried to school away once he saw you, eyes widening. He waved the healers off with his good arm and stood up a bit wobbly as you ran up to him.

"Regulus," you breathed out as you stopped before him.

"Amour, I–" he started, but you cut him off as you grabbed at his chin to move his face around and look for pain or injury. You tugged his jersey down slightly to take a look at the purple bruising spreading beneath his collarbone.

"Those absolute fucking bastards," you murmured, fingers tracing lightly over the colouring that kept all of your attention.

Regulus brought his good hand up to your own chin, tilting it so that your eyes were on his once more, small smile hidden within his irises. "I'm alright," he whispered.

"No, you're beaten literally black and blue," you huffed.

"I'll be alright, though." His face aimed at being reassuring, but it was difficult through the pain. "I've been given pain potion, healing cream and they episkey’d my–"

"Those tossers broke your bones?!" you cut him off incredulously at the mention of the healing spell.

"You did tell me to break them before, did you not?" Regulus said teasingly. You realised his hand migrated from your chin to the side of your jaw when he brushed his thumb calmingly over it once.

You narrowed your gaze at him. "Not. What. I. Meant." You punctuated each word with a poke to the non-bruised side of his chest.

"I'm alright," he repeated softly. You still wanted him to say it one more time.

"Black!" The referee called and you both turned around, like a deer caught in headlights. "Will you be good to return to the game or do you need a reserve to take over?" Behind him, the Ravenclaw beaters and Barty and Evan had finally been separated and quickly patched up. You hope episkey was needed for those two as well.

"I'm good!" he called at the same time as you said "Reserve!" You whipped your face around to look at him incredulously.

"Regulus. You are injured."

"I'm patched up and there's just a few minutes left anyway. I'd go crazy if I didn't finish this game, amour." Regulus was so attentive when he reassured you, returning his hand to your face, massaging at the back of your neck.

"And what do you think would happen to me if you went back out? I'll go crazy." You felt almost childish as you said it, like a 5 year old stomping your foot, but you felt justified in it nonetheless.

"It'll be alright. I'll catch the snitch and come right back to you, yeah?"

He was already starting to pull away from you as he said it, to return to the pitch. It was only then you realised you had stood nearly flush against each other. Your hand shot out to grasp at the side of his jersey.

"Y/N–" Regulus started.

You cut him off with a kiss.

It was soft despite the tension in your body and your knuckles whitening from the strength of your grip on him. His lips were cold from flying, but responded to yours in an instant. It was brief in its sweetness, but sweet all the same.

You pulled away and took a step back immediately, hands dropping at each of your sides. Regulus stared at you dumbly.

"Was that– was that to keep me off the broom?" he asked carefully. You almost wanted to say yes from the possible willingness in his voice.

You just smiled at him. "It was for good luck. Since you clearly can't be trusted with my muggle idioms."

A slow grin spread across his face at the same time as the referee called his name more harshly. "Okay," he whispered, seemingly awestruck as he backed away from you for the second time that day. "Okay, I'll be back in a moment, promise," he said more loudly.

Behind him Dorcas was grinning at you over her shoulder as she walked away from the edge of the tent. You felt bad you hadn’t realised she was near, but it didn’t seem like it bothered her at the time, smug happiness evident in her features.

How Regulus was able to play with a bruised collarbone and a just-repaired elbow you had no idea. Yet you knew he had done worse, so it shouldn't surprise you even as it horrified you to no end. You remained in the Healer's tent, shielded from view in the stands, and chewing on the side of your thumb as you watched Regulus' every move in the sky. The beaters were still on him, but so were Barty and Evan, more incessant than ever. You all but flinched when Regulus reached out once more with his injured arm, and the sigh that took over your body when his gloved fingers closed around the snitch was nothing but pure relief.

The stadium burst into loud cheers and you could vaguely make out Pandora's melodic voice over the roar, but it all fell on deaf ears. Your eyes were locked with Regulus' from the moment the players neared the ground.

While worry still clenched in your heart, now that Regulus was officially safe, the shock of what you did was able to wash over you.

You kissed Regulus. He kissed you back. He smiled. He seemed okay with it. What the fuck? Your mind was going a mile a minute as you kept looking at him, recognising to the fullest extent how his tousled hair makes your heart spin, how you longed for his presence in your arms in every form of the word. It was both disorientating and oddly familiar to you. Natural. Right.

You swallowed it up as the players landed.

When their boots hit the pitch, Evan and Dorcas physically collided into a hug in a way that must have hurt, practically screaming in victory as they shook each other.

Likewise, Barty was on Regulus, but it seemed for a different reason. Mindful of his injuries, Barty lifted Regulus up by the waist, spinning him around twice while yelling something along the lines of "Took you bloody long enough!" before all but launching him towards the Healer's tent – towards you.

"Fucking finally!" Barty once more screeched cheerily behind him as Regulus used the momentum from Barty's manhandling to jog towards you. "Finally!" Then he turned around and joined Evan and Dorcas' howling.

Regulus smiled as he came up towards you and when you opened your arms for a hug, his hands went up to cup your face and he went straight for the kiss.

You melted against his body, holding one arm around his waist and another at the nape of his neck. This kiss was longer, deeper, in a way that made your stomach flip and toes curl. It felt real. It felt like it meant something.

"Sorry, I wanted to be the first to do it," Regulus mumbled against your lips. He pulled away slightly, body still flush against yours as he studied your face curiously. "I– You want this? You want me?"

"I've always wanted you, Reg," you whispered.

His eyes flitted between yours, your eyebrows, your lips, even your nose and the way it crinkled slightly. "Like this?" His voice was raw and honest, laying everything bare.

"Yeah," you laughed almost tearily. "Like this."

He smiled as he brought you in for another kiss before scattering them rapidly around your lips, your cheeks, your nose, crinkling it once more. You laughed against him and it felt perfectly right.

Regulus flinched a little when he tried to tighten his hold on you and his elbow collided with yours. You immediately sobered up.

"We're going to Pomfrey's," you declared, stroking a hand up and down his back consolingly. "Now."

"I just have to finish up with the team first–" He tried, but you cut him off.

"You won the game for the team, I think you've done enough." You smiled knowingly, but the sternness did not leave you. "We are going to get you properly patched up and receive in-depth instructions on how to deal with the injuries."

Regulus nodded, reluctance fading away. "Okay. I just have to let Sirius know I'm okay first."

You sighed, indulgence flickering through your eyes. "You're impossible."

"Got it from him."

"We'll check in with Sirius and then head off to the infirmary." You were mapping out the plan in your head and Regulus stared at you fondly. You cheekily added, "I can't very well kiss this better."

Regulus’s eyes softened, a warm glow flooding his gaze. His voice was quiet, tone raw. “Could you please try anyway?”

You shook your head fondly at him. Slowly, you brought him down for a lingering kiss, breathing him in.

Regulus was smiling against your lips when a wolf-whistle pierced your silence.

"Is the gig finally up then?" Sirius called. 

You both turned your heads, still all up in each other's space to see Sirius strolling up to you, friends in tow. Marlene was guilty of the whistling and bore matching grins with Sirius, James and Remus.

Regulus looked down at you, almost as if to check if you're okay with it. Upon your indulgent smile, he turned back towards his brother and said, "Okay, fine, maybe we're in love!"

NAVIGATION ⋆｡°✩

ABOUT ME - just a cringe girlfailure with an internet connection and a dream. writes mostly enemies to lovers or unrequited love lol.

★ cabin 12, slytherin, capricorn

FANDOMS - marauders, percy jackson

✭ requests are always open!

✭ i mostly write x readers and marauders ships

LINKS - masterlist

HOORAH!!!!!!!!!! YIPEEEE!!!!

is chris foreshadowing be so fr

jackie and wilson.

previous | next masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader

summary: you haven't been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile

word count: 5.3k

content: fluffff, loser!reader, happy!luke if you squint and a sprinkle of loser!luke, brief mentions of suicide but nothing heavy, we finally find out which state reader is from

notes: this is so cute i love them.

PART III — she’s gonna save me, call me ‘baby’, run her hands through my hair

Wading through a misty green lake with Luke Castellan was not on your camp bucket list — something you’d produced with a young girl called Silena who you’d met in the arts and crafts cabin — but alas, here you were; knee deep in pond water and ankle deep in whatever sludge lived at the bottom, hands searching blindly along the floor while you tried your best to keep your chin dry. 

You probably wouldn’t have been there if you were any good at Volleyball — which really doesn’t make much sense with the given context. 

Okay, here’s what happened. It was Saturday at camp halfblood — and while you had been there for a solid three days now, you were yet to experience the joy of the weekends. Not that you knew they were any different, not until Travis Stoll approached you after breakfast. 

“Heyyyy, uh...newbie.” He chuckled, sidling up beside you while you were occupied with deciding whether your camp shirt was better tucked into your shorts or left hanging over them. 

You turned to the boy with an amused smile, reminding him of your name. He snapped his fingers at you, “I knew that. I did. I just prefer newbie.”

“What’s up, Travis?”

He dropped his finger guns, rocking back and forth on his feet and looking at you sheepishly, “Well, me and a few friends were gonna chuck a ball around on the beach and we need an extra player to make it even. Now that Luke’s not an option.” 

He muttered that last bit low and under his breath, not in hopes that you wouldn’t hear but in hopes that Luke wouldn’t — there was no telling how far he was from you at any given moment, but he wasn’t going to tell you that, so he just put on his charming Stoll Smile and said, “So, wanna join us?” 

You didn’t have anything to do that day, and since you’d assumed you were in for another long eight hours of finding out what you were good at and failing, a friendly game of ball (which you were safe to assume was volley, per what Luke told you yesterday) seemed like a great idea. 

Only it wasn’t — friendly, that is. You wandered over to the net set up on the beach with Travis at your side and a taller girl with curly blonde hair narrowed her eyes at you in suspicion, “How good are you at this?” 

“Uh —“ You shrugged, shaking your head slightly, “I’ve never played. We don’t have many beaches where I’m from.” 

“You don’t need a beach to play volleyball, newbie.” Connor Stoll appeared out of nowhere, grinning at you, “But it’s easy to pick up. You can be on our team.”

Their team consisted of Connor, Chris, Poppy from the Demeter cabin, Evie and Evan (twins from the Ares cabin) and now, yourself. Apparently it was a lost cause whenever the Stolls were on the same team, so Travis was on the other side of the net with the blonde girl from earlier — who’s name you’d learnt was Sabine, and who’s godly parent was Nike, which did not decrease your nerves even a little bit. 

“It’s pretty simple once you get the hang of it.” Evie explained to you once she noticed your unsure eyes. “Just don’t hit the ball twice in a row, Sab’s a stickler for that rule.” 

“Other than that, we’re pretty lax.” Her brother tagged on, smirking at you, “This isn’t the Olympics.” 

“Tell her that.” You side eyed the blonde on the other side of the net, who was cracking her knuckles and discussing strategy with Travis and Brynn, an Athena kid with a bright blue buzzcut. 

The twins let out identical chuckles, sharing a look before patting your shoulders, “You’ll be fine.” 

You didn’t have time to quip that the pair of them talking at the same time was a little foreboding before the game was on, and a volleyball was heading straight for you. 

To be fair to you, you lasted longer than expected. Maybe it was your battle instincts kicking in, but you hadn’t missed the ball once — sure, your defence lacked any real strategy and was more you hitting the ball in whatever direction and hoping for the best, but it was working, so why complain? You wouldn’t qualify for varsity, but at least you were one upping a Stoll brother — the same couldn’t be said for most campers, you knew that much. 

You actually thought you were getting pretty good, too. Your team was up by a few points (no thanks to you, all thanks to Evan. Seriously, he was like six foot four) and Sabine was getting angry. Every now and then she’d turn and scowl at Rhea, one of her teammates, and the girl would just shrug in response before returning to her position. But then, just when you started to get confident with it, Travis got you. 

Hard, too. You were paying close attention to your feet, making sure you didn’t trip over any sand when you had to move, and unfortunately didn’t notice the ball coming at you until it clipped you in the face. You went down onto your ass, both hands flying to your nose and groaning when you felt a warm trickle of blood slide through your fingers and down your hands. 

“Holy shit, newbie.” Travis sped over, dropping to his knees next to his brother and hovering over you, “I am so sorry, are you okay?” 

Your speech was muffled and nasally when you replied with a swift, “No, asshole!”

“Shit.” He muttered, looking between Connor and Evie, “Uh, I can take you to the infirmary if you want —“

“I’ll take her.” Evan interrupted. He was crouched somewhere behind you, looking at your teammates over the top of your head. You felt his hands flatten on your back as he pushed you up to stand, the rest of the group joining him and wincing when some blood dripped onto the sand. 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to —“ You held out a hand in his direction now that you could see him, only to press it firmly back against your face when your nose simply started to gush once the pressure had been removed. 

“Yes,” He nodded, “I do. Let’s go.” 

You let him lead you, sending an apologetic look to the remaining teens on the sand — you were pretty sure it looked nothing like an apology since your hands were covering half of your face and there was blood seeping through your fingers, but it was the effort that counted. 

You didn’t receive as many looks as you thought you would’ve on the walk to the infirmary, although you assumed demigods had gotten worse injuries than a nosebleed before, so it wasn’t exactly odd. When you got there, you stopped on the porch and tried to speak to Evan as best you could without letting any more blood spill. 

“You can — you can go.” You said through your hands, “I got it from here.”

He looked a little unsure, but you nodded firmly and he turned back the way he came. It was pretty embarrassing, walking into the infirmary with a bloody nose on your third day at camp, but the Apollo kid who took care of you said it was only a matter of time before you shed first blood, and that you’d better thank the gods it was a volleyball and not a hellhound that did the damage. 

They stopped the bleeding with some sort of special gauze and told you to be a little more careful before sending you on your way — which was when you found Luke. 

You didn’t even see him at first, more focused on folding the gauze you’d been given into a perfect square while you stepped off the wooden porch. But then a voice muttered your name in slight shock and confusion, and you looked up to meet those baby brown eyes you couldn’t help but love. 

You grinned, “JoJo.”

Luke shook his head, “What were you doing in the infirmary?” His eyes tracked all over you, assessing for any visible injuries. When he found none, he turned his questioning gaze back to your face. 

You sucked in some air through your teeth, embarrassed, “I, uh, got hit in the face with a volleyball. Turns out, I’m awful at it.” You let out a weak chuckle, and Luke rolled his eyes in amusement. 

“Of course. I thought baseball was your thing?” 

“It is.” You nodded, “But there’s nobody out here to play with, so…” Then an idea sprung, and your face lit up so visibly that Luke took a tentative step back, “Hey, why don’t you come watch? We’re playing on the beach.”

“Oh.” The boy paused, eyes sliding to the beach and back to you, “I don’t think so…I, uh, tend to spend my weekends alone.”

“You spend your everything alone.” You pointed out with a raised pair of brows. He pursed his lips. You sighed, “Come on. You don’t have to play.”

He looked as if he was thinking about it, and your hopes were raised a little. You liked Luke, you wanted to know him better and one day consider him a friend rather than a guy you harassed every day. But you were very aware of his aversion for all things social — the comment Travis made about Luke not playing with them anymore saddened you, and it pained you to imagine Luke all alone while his brothers and friends still had fun around him. But then his face dropped, and so did yours, Luke shaking his head no. 

“I just…” He shrugged, “I don’t really…”

“It’s okay.” You interrupted before he could spout out his excuse. He didn’t need one. “We can do something else.”

“Oh, I —“ Another shake of the head, “You go back to them, don’t let me ruin it.”

“You aren’t ruining anything.” You said plainly, and you thought that those four words hit Luke a lot harder than expected, because he had this pensive look on his face that didn’t fade until you spoke again, “Listen, I know baseball isn’t exactly a camp sport, but I’ve got a ball. This place has gotta have bats — I mean, if it’s got swords, it’s got bats, right? So we grab them, we go off somewhere and take turns batting. I need to stay in practice anyway, if I’m gonna make varsity.”

You sent him your shiniest smile paired with some doughy eyes, and after squinting at you for a solid ten seconds, Luke agreed to your idea with a hesitant nod. You weren’t exactly expecting him to jump up and down in joy, so you took the liberty of doing that before asking him, very enthusiastically (because if you stayed positive, maybe it would rub off on him), to go look for a bat while you grabbed your ball. 

Chris caught you exiting the Hermes cabin while he was filling up his water bottle using the outdoor tap not far from the porch, asking you what you were doing with a baseball. You explained that volleyball was definitely not your thing and ignored his chuckle of agreement in favour of informing him that you would be teaching Luke how to become the next Babe Ruth. He raised a brow. 

“Really?”

“Uh, yeah.” You replied, a little put off by his reaction. “Is that a problem?” 

“No, no.” He backtracked quickly, hands raised and water sloshing around his bottle as the movement, “I just…I dunno. Luke’s been a little off recently. If I were you, I wouldn’t meddle in it.”

“Meddle?” You asked, shaking your head, “In what?”

“In his…” He puffed out his cheeks, trying to find the words, “His funk.” He shook his head then, eyes glossing over as he thought about it, “He failed his quest, he’s a little butthurt, but…he’ll get over it. Y’know?”

You didn’t know. 

“I just don’t think he needs babysitting.” He firmed, looking confident in his wording now that he’d found it, “He’s just gonna talk your ear off about how much he hates his life until you’re borderline suicidal. I wouldn’t bother, personally. He's a big boy, he can get over it.”

You rolled your lips over each other, staring blankly at Chris as he sent you a polite smile and walked back to the beach. Slowly, your eyes narrowed, and your brows pulled together. But you didn't say anything, you just turned around yourself and walked to where you’d asked Luke to meet you. 

He was tossing the bat between his hands when you got there, dropping it in his left when he spotted you and nodding, “Alright, where are we doing this?”

You stopped, snapped out of a stupor you didn’t even realise you were in and blinking at him. For the first time since you’d met, it seemed that he was more focused and lively than you were. It irked him a little bit, and he frowned, “Sunny?” 

“Sorry.” You responded immediately, shaking your head to rid yourself of your spiralling thoughts, “I just…uh, let’s go somewhere clear. We don’t wanna hit anyone with the ball.” 

Luke led you to a clearing in the woods, explaining that the wood nymphs would be able to help you if the ball got lost in the foliage, so there was no need to hold back the arm you’d been bragging about for the entire walk. You just smirked, raised the bat level, and nodded at him to serve. 

Yes, you were a thousand percent better at baseball than you were at volleyball. You knew that, of course, but it was nice to be reassured. Luke wasn’t half bad either, but you were also a really good runner, so you kept having to remind him that an average level fielder wouldn’t have a chance against his bats — you just so happened to be way above average. 

Plus the wood nymphs were very helpful — apparently they didn’t get to watch many demigod activities other than capture the flag so it was refreshing for them to see you two play, and to actually be able to help. 

All in all, you were having a great time. Which of course meant that you were long overdue for something going wrong. Of course. 

“I can’t find it.”

“What?” You asked breathlessly, staring at the tree nymph who shrugged at you plainly. 

“It rolled into a pond, I think.” He sniffed indignantly, “And I am not climbing into a pond.”

“Oh, and you expect us to?” 

And that, kids, is how you ended up knee deep in pond water and ankle deep in something else — with Luke Castellan right by your side. 

“This is so gross.” You whispered, grimacing as your hands ran over the murky bottom. You couldn’t see anything but your own reflection when you looked in, so you were replying on touch alone to help find your ball. “I can’t believe this. My lucky ball and it falls into a pond! Not so lucky anymore, huh? Yeah, lucky my ass.”

“Hey, Sunny?” A slosh of water rippled over you and you had to straighten up to avoid the tiny waves splashing in your face. They only increased at your movements, but you were too busy glaring at Luke to notice. He pressed his mouth together, holding in a chuckle, “You’re not being very sunny right now.” 

You huffed, flinging your arms out at your sides and wincing when you splashed water on yourself by doing so, “I —“ A huff, “I don’t feel very sunny, Castellan. I am wading in sludge.” 

He actually had the audacity to let a tiny grin slip through, “Wow, the last name? You’re acting like me right now. It’s weird.”

“I can’t believe this.” You repeated, narrowing your eyes at the boy, “I’ve been trying to cheer you up since the day I met you and when you finally do, it’s because you’re relishing in my pain? Fuck you.”

As if he was trying to piss you off, Luke laughed. He actually laughed, exactly like he had yesterday and if you weren’t so annoyed you’d be smiling at him for it. But you were annoyed, so all you did in response was send a wave of pond water at him and drench his front. 

He stopped laughing. You started laughing. 

“Okay, is that how you wanna play this?” He asked, stepping closer, “Is it?” 

You grinned, stepping back. The water moved when you did, and the paired struggle of your’s and Luke’s legs under the water just increased the waves that oscillated around your knees. It slid up to your thighs and threatened to wet the denim of your shorts, but you were too busy prying your foot out of whatever the hell lived at the bottom of the pond so you could escape Luke’s wrath. 

You shook your head, “You don’t wanna do this.”

He nodded mockingly, “I think I do.”

Then it was on. He lunged for you, and you dived to the left in a swift attempt to get around him. Water was splashing everywhere at this point but neither of you cared — especially when Luke’s hands were mere inches from your arms, waiting for your ankle to snag on some algae and pull you back so he could push you over. You were smarter than that though, so you did a swift one-eighty, dragging your hands under the water with you as you did — the wave that accumulated from the momentum doused Luke from head to toe, his curls sticking to his forehead. He wiped them away and blew hard from his mouth before forming a weak glare in your direction.   

Your jaw trembled as you held in what you knew would be some serious chortles — but it was silent. The only noise apparent was the settling of the waves now that you had both stopped moving and Luke’s heavy breathing in front of you. He shook his head, stepping forward slowly, and you braced yourself for what was about to come. 

“Hey!” 

You paused. You shared a look with Luke before looking confusedly at the form that had appeared suddenly between the two of you. It was a girl by the looks of it, only she was made entirely of the water the two of you were standing in. She glared between the pair of you, hands on her hips. 

“I don’t appreciate all this splashing.” You felt suddenly like you were being berated by a school teacher for talking too loud during class, “Are you trying to drain my pond? Are you?”

“N—No.” You responded, shaking your head, “We were just looking for — ”

The water nymph held up your ball with a stern expression, “This? Yeah, it looked like you were.” 

Her sarcasm was not lost on you, and you tried your best not to meet Luke’s eyes, knowing they would fail you the second you did. Instead you looked at the nymph before you and took the ball from her outstretched hand, “Thank you. And, um, sorry…about the splashing.”

She folded her arms, lifting her head and straightening her shoulders, “That’s okay. Now get out.”

You were both quick to exit the water, although not too quick that you made anymore of it splash onto the rocks. Once you were out, the nymph nodded in satisfaction and melted back into the pond, and you and Luke were finally able to breathe. Then, you both burst into laughter. 

“Oh my gods.” You huffed, shaking your head and looking down at yourself, “Did we just get into trouble?” 

“With a water nymph?” He finished, shrugging off his wet shirt and wringing it out, “Yeah. How embarrassing.”

Your mouth was suddenly very dry. You knew Luke was strong — he had to be to fight a dragon and come back alive. To be known as the Best Swordsman in Camp. To be trusted by so many campers despite his newfound, distanced demeanour. But damn. 

You blew out a long puff of air, hoping your reddened cheeks could be excused as some light sunburn. You weren’t as soaked as he was, but you still wafted your damp shirt from your body in hopes that it would dry — and also to give yourself something to do that wasn’t ogling at Luke’s lean figure. 

He spread his shirt out on a rock, ensuring the sun was hitting it right before lowering himself to the ground on the dry grass a few feet away. He leant back on his hands, face to the sky, and revelled in the warmth. You stayed standing, fiddling with the button on your shorts, staring at him. At the scar on his face, at the rest of them along his chest. 

He cracked one eye open, glancing at you, “What?”

“I, uh.” You licked your lips, “Nothing. Nothing.” You muttered, taking a seat beside him and crossing your legs. Your gaze stuck firmly to your lap and you waited for his to return to the sky. It didn’t. 

“You can ask me.” He said then, shrugging. 

“What happened on your quest?” You let slip, and when he stayed silent for a second too long, you realised that maybe that wasn't the question he was giving you permission to ask. “I’m sorry. I know it’s none of my business, it’s nobody’s really. But Chris told me before that you’re in a funk and that seemed like a gross understatement but then again I’ve known you for, what, three days? He’s known you for years, so surely he’s right. But you just seem like it’s more than a funk, and I don’t know what to believe because I don’t know what happened but I also don’t want to ask because it’s none of my business and it’s also very clearly a sore subject because of what happened with Dean. Not that I think you’re gonna fly off the handle or anything, but it’s definitely a touchy subject and I can’t just go demanding all the details just because I wanna be your friend and— ”

A hand over your mouth stopped you from continuing what Luke was sure to be a very long tangent. He looked at you, half in shock, half in amusement, and huffed out a laugh, “Sunny, you need to calm down.”

You couldn’t respond, but you did nod. He removed his hand slowly and you swallowed your embarrassment. Luke sat up fully, straightening his back and clearing his throat, “Uh, okay. Have you heard of that Hercules story? With the golden apples?” 

You nodded, afraid to speak in case you went off on a rant again. He nodded with you, “Yeah, well, my father sent me on that. The exact same quest…except I failed.”

That explained the scar, and the dragon story he’d mentioned very briefly yesterday. He started to go into a little more detail about his quest — and suddenly you were overcome with this…angry sort of sadness. 

Hermes sent Luke on a quest that had already been done. After hearing Clarisse yap your ear off about Kleos, you understood why he’d been a little bummed. Honestly, if it were you, you wouldn’t have even gone. What’s the point in doing a quest that’s already been done? But you didn’t say that to Luke, who seemed a little deep into his story. You just simmered in your irritation while he continued to explain his battle with Ladon, and his ultimate failure. 

“I refused to leave the infirmary for a week.” He chuckled, but it was a little sad. “I mean, I’m supposed to be a leader here, and I fail my first quest? Some demigod I turned out to be.” 

Without even thinking, you shook your head, “You didn’t fail.” Luke looked at you, confused, “You battled a dragon with a hundred heads and lived. That doesn’t sound like failure to me.”

“But I didn’t get the apples.” He explained. “I disappointed my father.”

“Your father…” You said slowly, unsure of how your next words would land, “Who I’m going to assume had never spoken to you until the day he gave you your quest?” Luke nodded after a brief pause and you took that as permission to continue, “So who cares if he’s disappointed? He clearly doesn’t care if you’re mauled by a dragon.” 

“Exactly.” Luke replied, brows pulled together in the way they had been when you’d first met. Angry, irritated. Disappointed. “Everyone keeps telling me to get over it. That demigods have failed quests before and it just means I need to try harder next time but…why should there be a next time? Really, if you sit and think about it for a second, why are we even here? To train, so we don’t die whenever monsters come and attack us? And who’s fault is that? Maybe if our parents were good people, there wouldn’t be any monsters trying to murder their kids. If they cared, even a little bit, they’d do more than just claim us and leave us to die!” 

He scoffed, looking in the direction where you knew the rest of the campers resided — playing games, building weapons, dedicating every waking hour to becoming the best of the best. And for what? For glory? For a pat on the back from a parent who can’t even be bothered to raise them? 

“They don’t get it.” He said then, turning back to you, “They think this is all okay. They’re too invested to realise that they’re just being used. They’re so focused on getting a shred of recognition from the gods that they don’t understand that it’s never gonna come.”

“So…” You finally spoke, your first words in a minute, “What do we do?”

Luke shrugged then, “I don’t know yet.” 

It was silent for a long time after that. Luke stayed staring at the floor and you led back to stare at the sky. He was right, wasn’t he? Sure, you’d only been in this for a little while, but you weren’t stupid. You knew the gods didn’t care — you’d figured out that much when you got to camp. A dumping ground for demigods. Demigod daycare, except mommy isn’t coming to pick you up at three o’clock. Luke deserved to be angry, he deserved to mope — they all did. 

But they wouldn’t. You could sit there and curse the gods for hours on end, but that was still half of you. And that, you thought, was probably the worst part of it all.  

You were so caught up in your feelings that when the tree that had been shading you phased into a nymph and walked away, you jumped halfway out of your skin, “Jeezum crow.”

You looked at Luke, expecting him to either share the same dumbfounded look on his face or be laughing at you — something he seemed to be doing a lot of today — but instead he was staring at you, slack-jawed and wide eyed. You blinked, “What?”

“You’re from Vermont.” 

Your mouth snapped shut, and his expanded into the grin you’d been hassling him for since you’d set your sights on him. You sighed, “Fuck.” 

He let out a disbelieving laugh, “You’re from Vermont! Holy shit. I should’ve known it when you called me a flatlander.” He threw his head back, and you shook yours at his dramatics. But he didn’t care, he just pointed at you, “You’re a fuckin’ woodchuck!” 

“Oh my gods.” You groaned into your hands, pulling yourself to your feet in hopes of escaping his sudden glee. “Is that so bad?” 

“No.” He laughed, following you, “I’m just amazed that I figured it out. I’m a genius!”

“Okay.” You sent him a blank look, but it only lasted a few seconds before your tiny smile was fighting through, “It’s not like you’ve discovered the meaning of life. Calm down.” 

“Never.” He shook his head, “This is my greatest achievement.”

“You fought a dragon.” 

“Screw the dragon!” He gripped your biceps, grinning at you, “You’re from Vermont!”

“You’re not funny.”

“And yet you’re laughing.”

“I am not.”

“You are.” 

“I’m not!” 

____________

“What’d you do to him?” 

You threw a piece of salmon into the fire, glancing at Chris, “I’m getting deja vu. Haven’t you asked me this already?” 

“Yeah, but…” The boy looked behind him, back at the Hermes table, where Luke was perched on the end and waiting patiently for you to come back from the hearth before digging into his food, “This time I mean it. I mean, he still isn’t talking to us, but he’s sitting on our side of the table again. You can be honest with me…” He sent you a grave look, “Did you give him a BJ?” 

“What? No!” You threw a pea at him. “I just listened to him.” You tried to be a little serious, but clearly Chris wasn’t getting the hint, so you relented, “And doused him in pond water.”

He laughed at that, nodding proudly. You turned back to the fire, asking Aphrodite to get rid of your split ends. You’d given up on praying to your father, deciding to go through every Olympian until one of them answered. So far, only Hera had responded — you assumed so, anyway, when a cuckoo woke you up from your afternoon nap. That wasn’t very helpful, but at least it was an answer. You didn’t suspect campers prayed to her often, so she probably appreciated the sentiment. 

“So…” Travis smirked, wiggling his eyebrows at you once you sat down. He sent this look around the group, but even Connor gave him a weirded out look in response. He huffed, “It’s team day tomorrow.”

A collective ohhh seemed to hum around the group, but you were still confused. You sent a questioning look to Luke who said, “For Capture the Flag. Tomorrow is when all the cabin counsellors gang up and decide on the two teams.”

“Then we have five days to strategise.” Travis continued on very dramatically, hands splayed on the table, “And on Friday…we battle.”

That seemed to lift the energy up a bit, the people around you sharing mischievous looks. They started to discuss amongst them who would be the best cabin to ally with, Lana turning to Chris, “Who are you gonna pick?” 

Chris went to speak, but paused. He seemed to think about something, looking slightly scared but still turning to the boy across from him anyway, “I thought maybe…Luke would like to reinstate himself as team captain this month.”

Right, you’d completely forgotten. During your spear lessons with Clarisse, you’d asked her why it was so important that you be amazing at fighting quickly if monsters couldn’t get into camp. She’d then explained the whole situation that was Capture the Flag — how it was a bigger deal than the super bowl around here — before briefly mentioning that Luke had always been Hermes team captain, but stepped down for the last game because his scar was still healing from his quest. Chris had taken over for him, and based off of the looks the people around you were sporting, you assumed they weren’t expecting him to give up his title so quickly. 

You couldn’t blame them. Luke hadn’t exactly expressed much desire to captain this time — he hasn’t expressed much desire for anything these days apparently. You were all waiting for him to let Chris down easy, but instead he looked up from his plate with an indifferent nod and said, “Yeah, sure.” 

Nobody said anything. Except Chris who, when Luke stood to rack up his empty plate, looked at you gravely and asked, “Was it a handjob?”

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you wouldnt understand.

going thru my inbox today!! get excited y’all 😋

sometimes i’m ok but then i remember i have more than 5 followers on tumblr

regulus’ last christmas with sirius

one day the adhd will start working and i’ll complete a 600k work marauders ao3 fanfic. just u wait…

i think im getting better at drawring them ao3 & marauders art