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captain-joongz · 1 month ago

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Penny for your ghosts; chapter 1

Pairing: OT7!BTS x f!reader

Genre: hybrid au, supernatural au, ghost hunting au (based on Lockwood&Co lore), found family, fluff and humour, some angst, eventual smut

Chapter summary: Hoping for a new beginning, you make a decision and end up at Bangtan Inc. looking for a chance. And somehow unbeknownst to you make a life-defining choice.

Chapter word count: 10k

Next part | Series masterlist

Warnings: not much really - a lot of exposition and some spooky stuff happening, sad ghost backstory, jimin is a little shit, yoongi being effortlessly waaaay too hot while also being adorable and sweet

A/N: here we go folks, the first chapter of our sweet autumnal spooky story! i had such a blast writing this, it's been so amazing to work with the Lockwood&Co universe (it made me reread the first book, again), and this story satisfies something in me that yearns for comfort and coziness, so enjoy! as always, i'd love any kind of feedback or response, so don't be shy and comment, reblog, send me an ask!

divider by the amazing @saradika-graphics

Standing face to face with the old-timey mansion, I didn’t really know how to feel.

It looked fairly inconspicuous in the daylight – just another old expensive house built on this street. It was half hidden behind a stone wall, the wrought iron gate giving me a little peek into the bleary autumnal garden slowly getting covered up with fallen leaves.

There was an iron sign nailed to the wall that read “BANGTAN INC., paranormal investigations” and I gave it a long look.

A new beginning, hopefully, was waiting for me beyond this gate, and I gulped, steeling myself into finally ringing the bell instead of just endlessly shuffling around on the street like a weirdo. I felt the pressure of the paper on which I’d written down the address burning through my pocket. It was just a job interview, and yet it felt like a pivotal moment in my life. It was this or back home, to the cold god-forgotten mountains and that prick Lee. He’d have a field day with me if I crawled back, and that’s why I had to ace this.

“I wouldn’t go in there,” a deep voice from somewhere behind me uttered, a touch of amusement to his words. I jerked around, too consumed by my own thoughts to take notice of my surroundings, even with my heightened senses.

A hybrid stood there, a mischievous expression painting his face. He was pretty tall and built, hair cut fairly short and swept off of his face with two black rounded ears standing in attention amidst those spiky waves. His face was rounded and soft. When my eyes slid down towards his hips, there was no tail. He was most probably a bear.

“I’m sorry?” I asked him, subtly trying to search the air for any noticeable scents, but the air was a little too crisp to carry anything. The man only giggled and stepped a little closer.

“I said,” he replied, “I wouldn’t go in there. Heard the house is haunted.” He brought up his hand to wiggle his fingers in a spooky gesture, trying his hardest to sell the scare, but losing to his own amused snickers.

“Hauntings only manifest after sun-down,” I cited monotonal, subconsciously turning my head to check the greyish blue sky. It was still early afternoon and even though autumn was coming, it wouldn’t start getting dark for another few hours.

The hybrid pouted, sad that he couldn’t scare me, and I wondered what exactly was he trying to do here.

“Taehyung, stop messing with everyone walking by,” a firm voice from my left suddenly appeared, softly chiding the still pouting hybrid, “I told you a thousand times.”

Another hybrid appeared suddenly from my periphery and I couldn’t believe I completely missed his presence on the empty street. He must have been walking over and I just didn’t hear him. Or maybe he came from the neighbouring house?

He was of similar height, broad-shouldered but slim. His attractive face was pulled into an amicable polite smile and the brown rounded ears flicked towards me in interest as he took me in. Another bear.

“Hello, dear,” he said towards me, tone much kinder in that ‘I’m talking to a stranger’ sort of way, “Are you a client? Do you need help with a haunting?” There was something undeniably eager in his voice and it gave me a little pause. They were Bangtan Inc.

Caught red-handed loitering in front of their house, I panicked and did something very stupid.

“Y-yeah,” I stuttered out maybe a little too fast, lying through my teeth – but the men didn’t notice, no. Their faces immediately brightened, postures straightening.

“Amazing!” the newcomer exclaimed, hands clapping together. He almost threw himself towards the gate, fumbling with the lock for a few seconds before it creaked open and he invited me to step in with a wide gesture, a tinge of nervousness to him like he was afraid I’d turn around and run.

I didn’t. Instead I offered my own hopefully easy smile and nervously fiddled with my wool hat, hoping it still effectively covered my ears, as I accepted and slowly started on the walk over to the main entrance of the house. The giggley from before quickly slipped in as well, shuffling cutely by the broad-shouldered man’s side.

I had just stepped on the first stone stair of the veranda when the door flew open and I startled, foot slipping on the damp surface. Before I even had the time to yelp, there was a hand on my lower back supporting me.

“Oh my! Be careful!”

“Hyung!”

A few shouts rang out at the same time, but I barely even listened. My hand shot out, almost slapping myself in my own face, trying to keep the headwear in place. I felt my ears twitching underneath it, but it stayed firmly on.

“Thank you,” I muttered, righting myself again and looking towards the third hybrid, “sorry for the inconvenience.”

“No no no, none at all,” the handsome hybrid said, “it was Hoseokie’s fault, he should have been more careful with the door.”

The new hybrid standing in the door was looking at me sheepishly, an embarrassed blush painting his face pink.

“I’m sorry,” he said plainly, red fox ears twitching in his curly hair, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Hoseokie, please bring our new client inside and into the sitting room,” there was an understanding that ran through them at the word client, and immediately the fox, Hoseok, turned all professional and beckoned me inside with a practiced friendly smile.

Giggley said nothing since the other bear’s arrival, only hung around in the back of the group, watching me with a strange kind of excitement.

“Please, please, through here,” I found myself pulled through the door and the main hall, under a pretty arch with wooden beams carved into branches with leaves and into what I presumed must have been the aforementioned sitting room.

I wasn’t even sure what that was, must have been a rich people house thing.

The happy fox was flitting around me, fussing with my light coat and assuring me I can step inside with my shoes on. After a barrage of questions about refreshments he danced out of the room, presumably into the kitchen to fetch the promised tea and biscuits.

There was no trace of the other two hybrids, but I heard movement through the house – someone calling a name I couldn’t fully decipher, heavy steady footsteps through a hall, a distant buzz of conversation. Signs of living.

The house smelt happy, lived in. I wanted to go find giggley and argue with him – this house wasn’t haunted; it was a home.

Shuffling a little on the armchair, I felt nervousness sink in. Now that I was here in this situation, I had no idea how to get out of it. The scent suppressant I sprayed on in the morning was going to protect me for a little while more, but if someone really tried I would no doubt be sniffed out without a problem. My ears started to hurt from how I pressed them down in order to not have a suspiciously twitchy hat and no matter how I tried to manoeuvre myself onto the chair, I couldn’t avoid sitting on my tail that was tucked and hidden into the long skirt I wore and protectively curled around my thigh.

I wasn’t even trying to fool them – I wanted the job they offered on the dingy website and for that I had to be a hybrid, but it was easier travelling through the city while pretending to be human – people stared less, whispered less about ghosts and death. It kind of just snowballed from when they assumed I was a client. No other reason for a human to be hanging about a paranormal investigations agency.

I shouldn’t have agreed, but then a strange fear choked me – I wasn’t ready to go in and ask for a chance. It seemed like a great idea to just scope them out, but now it was painfully obvious to me from their joy that not many clients walked through that gate and now I didn’t know how to tell them I wasn’t one.

Before I could spiral further, two hybrids walked into the room – Hoseok and one I haven’t met yet. He was tall, even taller than the two bears, and muscled. Strength radiated off of him, an aura of power that shocked me into silence as I eyed him with something suspiciously close to awe. Something about him was pressing onto my instincts, blanketing my brain with a layer of rightness, safeness. I fought myself not to submit then and there and embarrassment flooded through me.

But at least I wasn’t the only one – from where my eyes caught onto his greyish wolf ears I saw them twitch nervously and then I realised he was actually blushing under my stare, to which I burst into flames even further and politely shifted my eyes to the little table in front of me.

I heard Hosoek’s snickers, but from his relaxed stance I deduced I probably wasn’t the first to get caught into the lure of this hybrid’s aura. It would surprise me if I was.

He cleared his throat, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot and still a little pink, before he regained a little bit of his professionality back.

“Good afternoon, Miss,” he recited smoothly, deep voice like honey, and I blushed a little more, pointedly avoiding Hoseok’s amused eyes, “thank you for choosing our agency to help with your little problem. O-or not little, I mean, it could be a big problem. We can definitely handle anything though, you don’t have to worry.” He stuttered through his little speech miserably, shooting a shy glance towards his companion who was watching with fond eyes.

“Oh Joon,” the little sigh came from behind me and I twirled around to once again come face to face with the brown bear, the man still smiling kindly, “Don’t worry dear, he always gets stuttered up like that.”

He stepped into the room and stuck out his hand in an offered handshake. I quickly fumbled to get on my feet, alleviating the pressure on my poor tail and stumbling in the process, but this time I righted myself before any of the men could. I grabbed his hand with cheeks still red, but with a shy smile back.

“I’m Kim Seokjin,” he introduced himself and then gestured towards the wolf, “and that is Kim Namjoon. He is the owner and the director of Bangtan Inc.” I moved along, offering my hand to the blushing man as well and he took it eagerly yet gently.

I was so distracted by the soft calming grip of his hand that I didn’t even notice the way the wolf sniffed the air and froze, smile melting off into a frown. Namjoon took a step back and his hand got torn out of my hold, and I looked up in alarm worried something happened.

And something did. The man was watching me with apprehension, no trace of the smiling shy man – in his place stood a powerful hybrid sensing a threat. And I immediately understood what happened.

“W-wait!” I exclaimed, “I can explain, I promise!”

The other two hybrids in the room also took a cautious step back, following the director’s lead and I realised – they must have been a pack and he must have been their alpha. That would explain the reaction of my body I was faced with upon seeing him for the first time.

“Why are you trying to sneak into my house?” the question came out a lot unfriendlier than I was used from these hybrids, but I couldn’t blame him – I had unknowingly tried to cheat the alpha of the house and that was a big offense between hybrids, especially since I was a stranger to his pack.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” I whispered, also slowly backing away from the man now that he was so high-strung about my proximity. His packmates watched us with confusion, but I saw the realisation slowly sink into their faces, so I decided to stop the farce and reached for the hat, yanking it off. It was impolite to keep headwear on inside anyway, and I know that wasn’t lost on Hoseok since he tried to take it off for me even though I insisted on keeping it.

Their gasps were less shocked by now, both of them anticipating something like that to be the revelation, but I was sure it was more a reaction to opening a whole new level of information about me. The ears were undeniably feline, even though I wouldn’t blame them for not recognising them, and now that I finally unfurled my tail, it started peeking out from the bottom of my long skirt – that was the one cons about it – it was very long, impractically so.

I saw their eyes trained on the fluffy tip of the appendage, their faces written with their attempts to guess what kind of feline I was.

Not Namjoon though, the wolf was staring me down, eyes shining bronze and posture tense, tail ram-rod straight in a show of dominance. I crumpled into myself a little, showing him I wasn’t a threat even though I entered his territory under false pretences.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you, alpha,” the name slipped out of my mouth quite naturally, even though I’ve never lived with wolves before – this man just made it easy to submit. He did relax slightly then, but his senses were still alert, no doubt driving him insane because he couldn’t fully smell me.

“I saw the job offer and I came to ask about it, but when I got surprised at the gate by the bears, I panicked and agreed to come in as a client,” I quickly explained, hoping this wouldn’t end up with me kicked out and no prospects of a future employment, “It was stupid of me, I should have thought more carefully about entering a stranger’s territory while pretending to be human.”

That seemed to have diffused the situation completely and I finally sighed out in relief when Namjoon moved, shoulders relaxed a smidge more and only a trace of mistrust on his face. I was proper ashamed though, and watching the floor with burning face, ears pressed into my head so hard it hurt.

Then I sensed Seokjin moving closer before he gently laid a hand on my shoulder, leading me back into the armchair just as Hoseok shook out of his stupor and started serving the tea and biscuits he brought over. Namjoon still stood still on the opposite side, by the dark brown sofa, but he didn’t seem as hostile anymore.

“You little dummy,” Seokjin teased, and had it been said by anyone else with a different intonation, I would have been mad, but his words only made me blush more, shy and embarrassed. Then he looked over at his packmate and tsked gently.

“Come on Joon, cut her some slack,” he chided, “she was caught off guard because Taehyung started teasing her with the whole ‘the house is haunted’ thing he does.” That had the man relaxing completely and he finally sunk down into the sofa, Hoseok joining him shortly and making himself comfortable in the huge pillows.

There was a light disapproving tint to his expression, but mostly he just looked fondly exasperated, shaking his head slightly and chuckling under his breath.

“I told him a thousand times to stop doing that, it makes people nervous and then they don’t ring the doorbell,” he muttered much the same words as Seokjin had before on the street, and the fight drained out of my body when I realised I really wasn’t going to get kicked out.

“I’m still sorry,” I piped up carefully, gathering the hot mug into my hands and cuddling up to it on instinct before I stopped myself. I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one afternoon.

“So you’re interested in the job, then?” Namjoon changed the subject smoothly, fully settling into his director persona. I nodded eagerly and watched Seokjin walk over to the sofa and sit down elegantly, direct opposite of the lounging fox that now sat with a pillow squished into his arms.

“I got interested because it mentioned you are a hybrid run agency without human supervision,” I told him and the effect of my words was clear.

Human supervision was a concept as old as PI (paranormal investigations) agencies themselves, hybrids weren’t even allowed to own and run them up until like fifty years ago, and even after human supervision was a standard occurrence.

Even though humans had no affinity for the paranormal (some were a little more sensitive to it then others, especially when it came to children) it still ingrained itself as some sort of a staple of quality of agencies – those that didn’t have human supervisors were often ostracised and disadvantaged, there were quite strong smear campaigns against them and people still held mistrust towards them.

If investigators made mistakes that cost lives or destroyed property at an agency with human supervision, nobody thought anything of it, but if the same happened in agencies without, they were often dragged through the mud and sometimes even shut down after “thorough investigations”. It was more than unfair – it was discrimination. Most humans still saw us as animals and therefore incapable of having the same judgements and freedoms as humans did. They didn’t trust the hybrids that risked their lives to make their homes safe again, they rather turned to the humans that accompanied them in and did nothing.

Most human supervisors were older, still very much in the mindset that hybrids weren’t supposed to have their own opinions, and they were absolutely useless in the face of the paranormal – they were a bunch of pricks drunk on their own power, barking orders they didn’t fully understand, putting investigators into difficult spots and overriding their decisions according to a manual that was outdated and unflexible.

But even though you truly couldn’t find a single hybrid that was happy about this still being a thing, due to the industry pressure they still rather chose to work with them – because working against them was virtually impossible and most of those little stubborn groups usually ended up bankrupt pretty fast. The biggest names were still big corporations that built their traditions on the humans in charge of the operations, and if you wanted to have a successful career or even to be able to make a living, you still had to grovel at their feet and beg for an opportunity.

The dark shadows that overtook the three hybrids’ faces at the mention of human supervision perfectly reflected the grim reality of PI industry.

“No, no humans here,” the wolf stated firmly, “we are fully operated by hybrids. We don’t allow any kind of outside intervention, during the investigations everything is fully in the hands of the operatives.” I nodded, satisfied.

“That’s good to hear,” I said, but didn’t elaborate any further. Most hybrids had bad experiences with their supervisors, so I imagine they must have understood pretty clearly where I was coming from.

“Do you have a resume?” Seokjin asked, bringing the attention back onto the topic at hand. I fumbled with my bag, fighting to pull out the slightly crumpled piece of paper that was pitifully empty, and I flushed under his inquisitive eyes when he caught sight of the free spaces.

I had pretty standard qualifications – I did have all of them, I finished all of my education, but it was nothing special. Everyone that successfully graduated from high school and finished their courses had the same ones (and there was a lot of us). There was some experience from practical education, a part-time job as a graveyard guard and a brief stint at the local office of Black Guard Corp., one of the three giants in the PI industry.

It really didn’t take a long time for the three men to skim through it, it actually felt embarrassingly fast before their gazes shifted back to me, appraising me and searching for at least a sliver of talent.

“Oh, you’re from all the way up north,” Hoseok exclaimed, “Got tired of the mountains?” I chuckled somewhat humourlessly.

“Yeah, something like that,” I muttered. A lot of reclusive communities up in the north – a lot of stigma and not much to do, so it wasn’t that strange that young people moved towards bigger cities searching for modernity and understanding.

“One of our packmates is also from the area,” Hoseok said emphatically, smiling my way, “he moved down as soon as he hit eighteen.” A noise of understanding clawed out of my throat completely unbidden and I awkwardly coughed.

“Yeah, it’s fairly normal,” I replied, “I was one of the few young people left in our village.” Silence barely settled over us when Namjoon broke it again.

“You wrote Hearing and Touch as your strongest senses,” the wolf asked, tapping at the paper where presumably those words were written, “can you elaborate on that a little?”

Those hybrids that had talent (meaning a sense for the paranormal) all mostly had a little bit of everything when it came to the three main senses – sight, smell and hearing. Even if sight wasn’t your strongest sense, you still saw just not as clearly as others. If sight was your strongest sense, you still were able to smell or hear to a certain extent. But usually every investigator had a sense that was stronger than others.

Of course there were levels – someone’s strongest sense could still be weak compared to another person, but it was what he relied upon the most when it came to gathering information about the haunting. Those who had exceptionally strong senses could manifest rare gifts tied to their talents – like those with extremely strong sight could be able to see energy traces, or those with a superior sense of hearing could actually communicate with some of the ghosts.

Touch was a bit of a wild card. It was a considerably rare gift – not that it was super hard to find someone with the capability, but that usually it was very weak. A lot of people who manifested this already rare gift couldn’t actually do much with it and mostly just caught echoes. It was also a gift that only tacked onto a heightened sense of hearing or smell, as that made it stronger.

Touch allowed for the investigator to strike up a connection between themselves and an object closely related to the ghost, it showed them visions – of the ghost’s memories, of their life. Sometimes it shed light onto their motivations to stay behind, sometimes the visions more showed what kind of person they were. Most of the times it made you go through the worst moments of their life – and their death.

It was a dangerous ability that consumed you from within, left you vulnerable. Those with particularly strong Touch often went mad through the years of endless investigations and ended up shells of their former selves.

And mine was – it was on its way there too. It was my greatest pride and my biggest weakness, all at once.

“Do you have anyone else with Touch?” I asked instead of answering at first. The trio on the couch showed their interest was definitely piqued but they let me get away with the small distraction.

Hoseok nodded at the same time as Seokjin said “yes”, and they looked at each other before the fox gestured for the bear to continue.

“We do, we have two,” he replied with a gentle smile, “Jiminie has the same set as you, but his touch isn’t particularly strong. Taehyungie, you met him outside, has smell and touch. His are a little stronger, but he mostly just complains that all he gets are terrible scents.” I chuckled at that.

“I can imagine. I used to know this ferret with the same combination and she always whined that it just makes the smells worse,” the anecdote made me relax even more as I thought back to the few good people I met through my old agency and remembered the reasons for why I stayed there for such a long time. Well, if a few months could be considered a long time. Then I took a deep breath.

“Well, both of my senses are quite… pronounced,” I admitted. People with Touch had to be careful about their talents – either it made you vulnerable to exploitation or you were seen as an emotional wreck and a liability. It was hard to say what people’s reaction would be – that’s why I always asked about their own operatives first.

“Are you getting full visions?” Namjoon asked, and his voice was carefully neutral to make me more at ease. I nodded.

“Yeah. My hearing is pretty strong too, usually I was one of the most alert ones in my team,” I told him, wringing my hands in my lap as I recalled my earlier job, “my touch was what I excelled in though. Full visions, manifestations of emotions, the whole shebang.” The men seemed a little troubled but mostly I recognised worry for my health in those gazes, and while it was one of the pitfalls, I was at least glad they didn’t seem to be strangely excited about my talents. Sometimes we could be seen as an easy way to fame and money, and I’d rather starve than work for a company like that.

“Have you ever successfully carried out a conversation with an apparition?” this time it was Seokjin who asked, and I nodded quickly.

“Once, but she was really confused,” I replied eagerly, “I wasn’t able to get much out of her, it was like she drifted in and out of awareness.” Sometimes the hearing ability worked both ways – when ghosts were weak or low levels according to the manuals, they weren’t really capable of communicating. Maybe they said something here or there, but they weren’t fully conscious and aware. The stronger the apparition, the higher the level, the bigger the chance that they would hear you and answer – but just as there was a barrier that allowed only some to hear them, the barrier carried over certain voice better than others. Therefore if you were skilled at hearing, you also had a higher chance of being heard by the ghost.

The strongest apparitions could freely hold a conversation and hear everyone, even if others couldn’t hear them. From what I read, they were usually quite the pieces of work and annoying to talk to.

“That does happen quite often,” Seokjin sighed, folding himself back into the settee, “Most of the conversations with the dead are quite frustrating. Either because they don’t hear you or because they do and you wish they didn’t.” It sounded like he truly spoke from experience, and I did have to agree with him, even though I haven’t bumped into a fully aware ghost yet. I thought it quite safe to assume Seokjin’s affinity was also hearing, then.

“Well, let me quickly introduce you to the offered position,” Namjoon hijacked the conversation again, leaning forward to look a little more professional, “There’s seven of us in total and we usually work in teams of three or four, depending on the danger level. We try to take turns, but often we found ourselves in situations where we didn’t have time both for business and for basic upkeep of the house and such.” I nodded in understanding.

“People in the summer usually feel emboldened by the long days,” the wolf continued, “so we had a slow period, but with the start of autumn and winter the fear will set in again and they’ll be desperate enough to go even to a small hybrid run agency, so we usually get busier, especially here in the local area. We need a helper. I think the offer said an assistant and a junior operative. Basically someone who will fill in the blank spaces – keep the house tidy when everyone is either busy with investigations, resting or researching. Tag along when we could use a helping hand out in the field. Make sure we’re fully stocked up, double check we have all the supplies in our bags and belts. Help out Hoseok with taking calls, caring for customers when they come here. A little bit of everything to make it easier for us, so we can fully focus on our other tasks.” I hummed again and gestured for him to continue.

“In return we offer lodging here in the house, help with training and gaining more experience with both field and off-field work, like researching, orienting yourself in libraries, archives, what you have the authorisation to do and to ask for, such things. We offer full gear – a new rapier, salt bombs, magnesium bombs, shoes, coats, protective glasses – anything you might need or ask for. We’d take you with us to investigations, show you the ropes, train you to be a full operative.” There Namjoon stopped and wavered a little, hesitation creeping into his face.

I assumed that this was where it usually all fell apart for him, so I straightened in the armchair and waited with bated breath what would follow.

“I know it seems a lot, but it could be a good opportunity,” the wolf smiled at me, the shyness and kindness he displayed earlier before I was found out shining through once more, “Of course… it won’t pay as much as if you worked for Black Guard or the Iron Sword, but it’s still a good pay, more than enough to live comfortably. And as I said, you can live here so that will lower living costs as well…” I released a big huff in relief. I see, so he was worried about money.

The trio of hybrids didn’t seem to know how to interpret my reaction, so I gave them a huge toothy grin, a real one, that channelled just how interested I was in the position. It was perfect for me and I could use the community, the variety and the opportunity to learn.

“No, that sounds perfect,” I told him, and I meant every word of it. That put blinding smiles on their faces as well, and suddenly Hoseok was jumping to his feet and clapping his hands, once again scaring the living shit out of me.

This time he looked a lot less sheepish and a lot more amused as he said sorry, and then he was beckoning me to follow him out of the sitting room. The other two men chuckled fondly, but followed after him, nodding at me to come with them.

“We’re going to test you a little,” Namjoon explained, eyes searching the sky outside through a window in the hall, “I hope it’s not too early for a little ghostly activity.”

The sitting room was the first room you’d see when you stepped inside the house, but there was actually a similar room to the other side of the entrance hall, only stylised into a darker green instead of the browns and beiges of the one we were sitting at.

The entrance hall then opened into a huge room dominated by an old staircase leading to a little corridor that disappeared on both ends deeper into the house. The backdrop of the corridor though was an absolutely massive window made of stained glass that painted together a flowering meadow with a forest on the horizon. It was a little faded, the colours a little dull, but obviously well-loved and cared for, and it stole my breath away.

On the ground floor the room opened to corridors on the sides that similarly disappeared deeper, but on the left side there had to be a kitchen, because the corridor carried to me absolutely delicious smells, and sounds of a knife hitting a cutting board in a steady rhythm. I almost salivated upon smelling that, and wished I could weasel myself into staying for dinner, but instead I followed the men to the right, away from the tantalising scents.

We passed two sets of double doors made from dark polished wood. One was cracked open and I clearly heard giggles and a hushed conversation coming from there, recognising one of those voices as the deep baritone of the black bear that was trying to scare me outside. He was the one of the two with touch, and if I managed to get this job, I couldn’t wait to talk to them about their gift. Up in the north there was only one other girl with touch – the ferret hybrid that had smell as her other sense, but since her touch wasn’t as strong, our experiences with it were completely different.

But that’s not where we were going – the three hybrids continued to the end of the hall where another set of dark-wood doors sat firmly closed. Namjoon fished out a bundle of keys from his pants, and I couldn’t believe the chunky ball of iron fit into his trousers without bulging out uncomfortably.

There were two locks on the door and I promptly realised where he was taking me.

Every agency had a storage room – a place where all the dangerous things sat properly handled and out of reach to anyone that didn’t know how to work with them and could get hurt. That meant everything from spare rapiers and magnesium bombs to active artefacts – ghost sources with their apparitions still attached to them.

A source could be anything that bound a ghost to the place of haunting and allowed them to come back – objects that were loved during their life, objects that were tied to their death or quite straightforwardly, their remains. Sometimes the ghosts were tied to a certain space, and those cases were the most annoying, because there wasn’t much you could do about it – especially if it was a random spot in the middle of a forest or an actively lived-in house.

Operative’s job was to investigate the haunting, find the source and handle it – with salt, iron or silver, depending on the strength of the ghost. Those materials acted as a buffer and eliminated all chances of the ghost slipping through into our world again – it locked the door, one could say. Some ghosts could be chased away with a little bit of salt or a sprinkle of iron filings, but some had to have their sources wrapped in silver and destroyed in fire – those were the most dangerous ones.

Certain artefacts were allowed to be kept as trophies, even though no one really kept an eye on that. The black market was very profitable and unfortunately a lot of people that were supposed to be regulators themselves dabbled in it and collected strong active sources. So the rule of thumb was that regular sources were disposed of in the furnaces while the ones tied to famous cases were kept – people didn’t really care for grandpa Smith’s old walking stick, but they sure were interested in the remains of blood-thirsty ghosts that terrorised and killed until they were swiftly handled by an agency – getting rid of an artefact like that could be a huge PR hit for companies, and they were usually safely showed off in their headquarters to forever burn into people’s memories that they were the ones closing that case.

I assumed Namjoon was taking me to a similar trophy case to gauge the strength and depth of my senses.

Unlike the showy glass buildings of big corporations, Bangtan’s headquarters were situated in the basement under their house – it was mostly one big spacious room with walls made of red bricks and a floor of stone tiles. There were three tables there, covered in paperwork, and one wall was lined with filing cabinets, which must have been filled with old, closed cases.

A little light shined in through small oblong windows near the ceiling, so I was grateful when someone flicked a switch and artificial lights came on with a low hum.

And then I saw it – deeper into the space where two smaller rooms, cutting the space unevenly in half – and the wall facing us currently still standing by the door was covered with luminescent shelves.

It wasn’t the shelves themselves that shined – it was their contents.

There weren’t many artefacts, in fact most of the shelves were completely empty, but they made up for it with their brightness. Usually the brighter the source was, the stronger the ghost tied to it – and these were some potent sources.

I made a little panicked noise at the back of my throat, ears flattening to my head and tail flicking with agitation. I pointed towards the wall and then looked to the men with wide scared eyes.

“You can’t open those, look how bright they are even in the middle of the day!” I exclaimed and the men laughed lightly.

Namjoon leisurely made his way over towards the wall, and in my panic I followed him, heart beating out of my throat. But once there, he didn’t reach towards any of the sources encased in glass tubes infused with silver and iron for safe-keeping, he actually turned toward one of the shelves I previously thought was empty.

Only, when I came closer I realised it was lined with passive sources – ones that used to be tied to a ghost who was either destroyed and left their source behind or chose to move on, or just simply were charged with energy of a haunting and not the apparition itself. They were no longer dangerous and mostly deserted of any activity.

The wolf whispered around with the fox for a little while, hands lingering on certain objects as they deliberated on which they wanted to give me as a test. Seokjin stood to the other side of me, eyes glued to the active sources as if he looked for something specific.

I waited with bated breath to see when his eyes lit up with recognition, eager to know what it was, but I was interrupted by Namjoon’s deep voice as he beckoned me closer.

I looked to them and saw that both he and Hoseok had an object in their hands, having chosen their favourite. Namjoon carefully cradled an intricately carved wooden comb – it was absolutely beautiful and it looked very old and frail, with some of its teeth broken or missing.

He nudged his hands to me, motioning for me to pick it up.

“Tell me this comb’s story, Y/N,” he said, and the sudden appearance of my name shocked me enough to flinch in surprise. I realised I never actually introduced myself to them, the whole clusterfuck of a situation derailing the usual pleasantries – he had to have read it on my resume.

With blushing cheeks I rushed to grab it, careful to give it the same gentle consideration as the wolf did. The last thing I wanted was to break it.

At first I felt nothing. I heard the men’s breathing, the wild beating of all our hearts as the anticipation gripped us. I heard the faint clanks coming from the kitchen on the floor above. I felt my ears twitch as they tried to focus on the echoes of things long gone instead of the very present and very alive hybrids.

Anxiety spilled through me and I squirmed. Slowly I felt myself sink into panic, brain running its mouth telling me that I was useless and couldn’t even feel the object, that they’d laugh at me, they’d hate me. They’d kick me out and I’d have to go back home, embarrassed and defeated. I wouldn’t be able to impress them, I was a sham, a phony. I had nothing to offer anyone. I was worthless. Maybe I should just-

The thought startled me into a more present grounded mindset, and I ashamedly realised that due to me being nervous about the test I hadn’t noticed when I slipped into my ability. Those weren’t my thoughts, but whoever once owned this comb had a really bad time.

Shakily I dropped the comb back into Namjoon’s waiting hands, noting the concern on his face at my queasy expression. Hoseok was standing next to him still holding his own item, but his eyes were wide and a little scared.

“Are you okay dear?” Seokjin suddenly asked me, hands settling on my shoulders as he spun me around, “You suddenly got really pale.” I nodded hurriedly, using the sleeve of my sweater to dry off some of the accumulated sweat on my face.

“No, yeah, I’m fine, sorry,” I stuttered out, turning back to Namjoon and looking straight into his worried eyes, “The woman who wore this comb killed herself, didn’t she? She felt worthless – someone had left her. Maybe the very person who gave her the comb.” The devastation hit the wolf’s face as soon as I was finished speaking.

“I am so sorry, Y/N. I’ve never met anyone with touch as strong as yours, I didn’t realise you’d feel it so intensely,” he said, comb long forgotten discarded haphazardly on the shelf.

To say I was surprised would be an understatement – the genuine remorse at putting me through an experience like that, even unknowingly – it was enough to make me blush under his brown gentle eyes.

“It’s okay, it’s my ability and I’ve learnt to deal with it,” I told him softly, “I just got a little surprised, I wasn’t paying enough attention and let it suck me in a little.” He looked like he saved my words into memory for later use, like he wanted to make sure to help me along the way to not slip into the memories as easily again, and I flushed again, warmth spreading through my chest.

I’d never met anyone so invested in the well-being of their operatives. Which was quite sad, thinking about it.

“Was I right, though?” I enquired, and he shook out of his stupor, looking at me, then at the comb, then back at me and then as if everything caught up with him he nodded quickly.

“Yeah, her actual source were her remains – they got stuck deep in the mud in the river she drowned herself in, but the comb was in her hands and carried over the aura of her haunting,” the wolf explained eagerly, “she was mostly just sitting around on the bank, scaring off some of the local children who felt unsafe there due to her aura. She wasn’t dangerous at all, just really sad.” I felt a pained pang in my heart, some of the unsettled feelings and thoughts from her last moments still lingering in the corners of my soul.

“That’s incredibly heart-breaking,” I whispered, eyes glued to the beautiful accessory.

Before I could spiral any deeper into those thoughts, Hoseok awkwardly cleared his throat, hands hanging in the air between us unsure of whether he should offer the artefact or not. Everybody’s attention was drawn to him and Namjoon was just about to open his mouth to protest, when I beat him to it by grabbing the little thingy.

It was a really fancy pen, felt and looked new, like it would still write if I tried it on a piece of paper, and its ghostly traces were incredibly weak. This time I was more cautious as I examined it, rolling it around in my hands, eyes closed and fingers trying to feel every ridge, every scratch.

There wasn’t much. Almost nothing actually. I caught some waves, but they fizzled out as quickly as they appeared, leaving me with little fragments here and there. I tried again to make sure, but came to the conclusion that this item couldn’t have been tied to a haunting. It felt more like they just took it from the deceased’s house than anything else.

“Umm, are you sure this is what you wanted me to touch?” I asked hesitantly, “It’s just that there’s not much here. I feel mostly just stress from it, but it’s very fragmented.” At my words everyone in the room chuckled, Hoseok’s face heating up until he was as red as a tomato.

“Good job,” Namjoon said, snickering in amusement and looking towards the embarrassed fox, “this isn’t an actual haunted item or an artefact. It’s one of those fancy pens they advertise to ghost hunters because it has an outer layer of silver on it. Well, Hoseokie-hyung here bought it as a joke and it ended up saving his life. But turns out that the energy of coming into contact with ghost plasm holds onto it well and it’s kind of cursed now.” That definitely caught my attention and I looked at the hybrid who was shooting daggers into the wolf.

“He was being a big old dummy and while handling the sources marked for destruction he dropped one and the case broke,” Seokjin jumped in to continue the story, “he had nothing but the pen in hand and he had to fend off a very angry and a very confused apparition. We heard him screaming and all ran here as fast as we could to see him running around the basement waving around a silver pen and hysterically yelling at a ghost.” At this point I was giggling along with the men, the fox laughing along too as if he saw the visual his mate was painting as well.

“It was the best day of my life,” Namjoon sighed through snickers, “I almost didn’t want to help him because it was too funny.”

“I love to hear that you’d let me die for your entertainment, Joonie,” the man in question grumbled, but it was all in good nature, that much was obvious through their fond looks they threw each other.

As the laughter died down, a more serious expression settled onto Seokjin’s face and he gazed back onto the shelves with active sources, this time eyes immediately locking onto a specific case that glowed strongly with cold, steely blue light.

The other two men quietened the second they recognised what the bear was looking at, ears flinching and flattening to their heads.

“I was curious about what you’d tell us about an item we have here,” Seokjin started explaining, a far-away look in his eyes, “but seeing how strong of a reaction you had to the comb, I think we better not.” I looked towards the case, head tilted in consideration.

It was obvious there was something different, something strange, about that specific artefact – and judging by their nervous stances it wasn’t anything good.

“I can try,” I said easily, moving towards the shelf. Seokjin made an aborted panicked sounds, hands shooting up to stop me, but ultimately he let me walk past him and do what I wanted. I turned back, looking at the men watching me with scared but curious expressions, I steeled myself and looked at it properly.

It was fairly small – a single skeleton finger with a bejewelled ring stuck onto it. I wasn’t sure what they exactly expected from that. I clearly couldn’t take it out as the apparition would no doubt immediately manifest, and you really couldn’t feel through the glass.

But oh how quickly I realised I was wrong about that. I raised my hand, hearing the gasps of the three hybrids, reached for it and promptly stopped. I felt almost paralysed with the wave of dark resentful energy rolling off of it in thick waves, so thick that I was almost choking on them.

Whoever that ghost was, he was strong, angry and dangerous enough for his energy to manifest even through protective silver casing. Panic gripped me, just blind fear that this shouldn’t be here – this shouldn’t be anywhere. Suddenly I was stumbling back, tripping over my own feet to put distance between me and whatever that thing was.

My wild terrified eyes found Namjoon’s own worried ones and I couldn’t hold back a whimper clawing its way out of my throat.

“What the fuck,” I gritted through my teeth, “is that? Why the fuck is that here?” The alpha seemed to be fighting off his instincts, my palpable fear and the whimper must have put him in for a spin to try and calm me down, but we didn’t know each other at all for any attempts to be appropriate.

I realised I was shaking, the hand with which I almost grabbed the artefact cold and frozen to the bone.

“It was one of our biggest cases,” Seokjin whispered, voice gentle and monotone as he slowly started moving towards me trying not to scare me more, “a nasty piece of shit, a killer in life and a killer in death. Jimin refuses to get any closer to it, says it gives him the creeps even through the glass. He’s been telling us it has an aura even through the protection case and here or there tries to persuade us to get rid of it. None of us can feel much, just that it has bad energy, so I got curious… I’m glad you didn’t touch it. Those are some memories you don’t want to see.”

The bear hybrid managed to get all the way to me, his soft grip to my shoulder grounding me into the present and finally breathing some warmth back into my frozen scared body. I relaxed enough to let him start dragging me back towards the stairs, the two other hybrids guiltily tagging along.

“Jimin has a fucking point,” I replied, “That thing should be destroyed.” There was still a slight tremble to my hands, and I realised for the first time that day I was feeling extremely cold. I mechanically forced my feet to carry me a stair after a stair, yearning for the cosy vibe of the sitting room and the delicious smells coming from the kitchen.

“Told you,” a new voice joined us from up the stairs and I jerked to look up, coming face to face with a pretty boy with big eyes and plump lips. White ears stuck out excitedly from a mop of black silky hair, but I couldn’t gauge what kind of hybrid he was.

“Jimin,” Seokjin sighed, pulling me closer to his side, “please go start up a fire in the green room.” The boy said nothing more, only winked at me good-naturedly and then disappeared back into the house.

When we made it into the green room – which was the sitting room across the one we were in before – there indeed was a fireplace and an excited hybrid loading it with wood. I looked at his snow-white fluffy tail, the shape of it flaring out a little towards the end, and realised he was another fox, an arctic one. He must have been the hybrid Hoseok was talking about before, the one that moved down here from up north.

“After that I’m afraid I must insist you stay for dinner,” Seokjin spoke again, voice firm and leaving no space for objections. And it was the polite thing to do, to object and pretend like I wasn’t dying to sit down by the fire and eat, but just that afternoon I wouldn’t – I was too tired and too shaken. I wanted that damn food and I’d take it.

“Thank you so much,” I whispered only, letting the man fuss over me with a blanket. Shortly after he ushered Namjoon and Hoseok away with him, muttering something about guests and Yoongi, which I didn’t fully comprehend.

Jimin still sat down by the fireplace, kindling the little fire and feeding it paper, but then he turned to me and watched me with interested curious eyes for a moment.

“You got the touch?” he asked finally, and I simply nodded. Another moment of silence.

“Did you touch the finger?” this question came a little quieter. I saw the warring emotions in his eyes – excitement over meeting someone with the same gift, apprehension of the cursed object and a worry over my well-being. I was grateful to him, to his easy friendliness that put me at ease.

“No… I couldn’t,” I whispered the reply, but he understood, he did all too well. He gave me an empathetic smile, which quickly melted into a smirk.

“Maybe now Joonie-hyung will finally listen to me and do something about that awful thing,” he teased, giggling and pulling me along with him.

I was just about to open my mouth with my own smart remark when a new face stormed into the room, immediately stopping in his tracks upon seeing me bundled up in the blankets in an armchair by the fire.

He was small, noticeably so once Seokjin arrived as well and stood next to him, but his form was obviously strong and lean, a quite typical build for a classically trained operative. He must have been a terror with rapiers, it was written all over him.

“Aish, I leave you three alone for an hour and this is what you do?” he scolded the guiltily looking trio, “Look at that poor kid, you totally traumatised her!” Jimin on the ground was giggling, watching their pulled back ears with delight, but I just sheepishly sunk further into the chair, cheeks pink over how strongly the unknown hybrid defended me.

Movement by his legs caught my eye and I finally noticed the kind of hybrid he was – that was definitely a white tiger tail swishing wildly behind him! I physically felt my ears perk up as my back straightened and my own tail raised in interest, which brought even more colour to my cheeks and stuttered up the black-haired man in the middle of his spiel.

Soon he was blushing too, and I realised he was reading my body language and I’ve just given myself away, quite spectacularly.

I felt the intense need to explain myself but there wasn’t really much to say – I was excited to meet another feline hybrid, one that wasn’t of my own community – because I’ve never met another cat outside the ones I grew up with, and those weren’t exactly great. But I just looked like I totally had the hots for him (which I totally didn’t).

“N-no- I mean- I just- I’ve never met a tiger hybrid,” I finally pushed out, ignoring Jimin’s teasing shit-eating grin where he sat by my feet next to the fireplace. Namjoon, Hoseok and Seokjin were watching me with open fascination, which was definitely better than the anger I was imagining they would feel over me obviously being into their mate (which I wasn’t!!! It was a misunderstanding, nothing more!!!).

The tiger in question shifted on his feet, hand going to scratch behind the striped ear, his own characteristics now betraying a curiosity and interest on his part. His gaze swept over my features, passive but warm.

“You’re a snow leopard, aren't you?” he asked and where Namjoon’s voice was deep and smooth, Taehyung’s voice was deep and sweet, this hybrid’s voice was deep and raspy, sending me into a whole new spiral at hearing it.

I barely even managed to nod, embarrassedly pulling my tail and pushing it into my lap before it divulged even more of my secrets. Jimin was smirking at me as if he knew exactly what I was going through, and I kind of wanted to kick him a little.

“I suppose you came down here fairly recently then? Your folk only mostly only lives up in the mountains and they’re pretty reclusive…” he asked some more, angling more towards me and I felt my treacherous tail twitch in my hands.

“Yeah, it was a pretty tight community,” I told him easily, “They’re not exactly… forward and… open-minded.” It felt weird to be sharing such a private information with people I’d just met a few hours ago, but apart from the fact that this was something mostly all hybrids kind of knew, in those hours they managed to make me trust their judgement and believe that even if I wouldn’t end up getting employed by them, they still cared for my comfort.

But subverting all my expectations, the hybrid who up until now stayed fairly neutral even with a soft blush to his cheeks suddenly smirked at me, taking in my wide-eyes and flushed face before saying: “Well, it’s an honour for me to be your first tiger.” and walking out nonchalantly.

The trio that he originally came in here while scolding them stood there wordlessly, eyes flitting between my embarrassed form, a little too amused Jimin and the empty space where the tiger used to stand. Then Hoseok made a non-descript delighted noise in the back of the throat, launching into a sprint while screaming at the top of his lungs: “Jungkookie, you have competition!”

I was very much confused, but judging from Namjoon’s embarrassed blush and Jimin’s outright evil snickers, I probably didn’t want to know.

Seokjin smiled blindingly and then walked away again, while Namjoon slowly slinked into the room and made himself comfortable at the other armchair, still watching me glare at the laughing Jimin with wide eyes.

“Well, I certainly didn’t expect this outcome when you sneaked in today,” the wolf muttered, but there was a grin gently pulling at his lips. I was too embarrassed to banter and the attempt at a smile came out more as a grimace, so I just sunk deeper into the armchair and stubbornly looked on into the fire, ignoring the two giggling men.

“I’m sorry though,” Namjoon said quietly suddenly. I looked at him confused and I was surprised by the guilty expression on his face. “I’m sure this wasn’t the most pleasant of first meetings,” the hybrid muttered sheepishly, a bit of shame settled into his features.

“Namjoon-ssi, I made the decision to touch the source,” I told him firmly, hoping to alleviate some of his worry, “Seokjin-ssi was clear that I probably shouldn’t, but I wanted to try. You did nothing wrong.” The wolf didn’t seem much appeased, but he at least eased up a little, a little bit of determination creeping into his eyes.

“I’m going to get a bigger case and put it as a second barrier,” he proudly stated, more to himself than to us, and me and Jimin shared a glance before promptly bursting out into a fit of giggles. A sort of warmth settled into me, especially as distinctly recognisable voice of the brown bear shouted from somewhere that dinner will be ready shortly.

“Would be foolish to hope you’d like to accept the offer?” the question came out of nowhere, even Namjoon himself looking a little shy though he was the one who said it. I froze. Jimin stopped laughing. The happy chatter flowing in from the kitchen died down and everything settled into a buzz of anticipation.

The house was suddenly plunged into silence that I hadn’t heard since I stepped in, and the longer I was shocked at his words, the more I could see the alpha spiral that I’d inevitably reject him.

“I wasn’t aware you were waiting for my answer,” I uttered, teasing cheekiness creeping into my voice, and Jimin’s face once more morphed into a beautiful smile, “But I’d love to accept.” Namjoon smiled in relief, but both of our attentions were snatched by giggles coming from the artic fox.

“Of course she accepts hyung,” Jimin reiterated, “she wants to keep her first tiger.”

I’d never wished for the ground to swallow me so hard as I did in that moment.

Thank you for reading <3

Taglist (open): @borahaetelevision @socksfirst1 @shakespeare-in-the-park7 @iwishiwasrichasfuck @authorpj

@bangatanily @sassy-snassy @booksintheheart00-blog @bangbangcon @kiki-zb

@luvian-art @ldysmfrst @jinsleftairpod

#bts fic #bts fluff #bts angst #bts smut #bts x reader #ot7 x reader #bts ot7 #bts poly au #bts hybrid au #pfyg series

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vryfmi · 3 months ago

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[id: three grey-scale digital drawings of characters from Lockwood and Co books set in a modern coffee shop setting.

Lucy sits on a couch in a dark room, she looks at her phone puzzled. right side of the picture is divided horizontally into three frames: a close up of the phone with a cut off discord missed call notifications; Lucy looking annoyed and putting her phone aside; a cup with a teabag in it on the floor.

Lockwood is leaning on the barista counter from customer side, he's saying something with a smile, speech bubble has emojis of calendar and question mark. he looks at Lucy, who's turned away from viewer as she's making coffee. from her apron's front pocket comes a speech bubble with emojis of vibrating phone, skull, exclamation and question marks.

a view on coffee shop from behind front windows. from barista counter Holly leans towards Lockwood, who's standing near by with his brew, she says something to him in secretive manner. on the foreground, leaning back on the window Lucy is talking on a phone. she is cut off at the edge of the picture but there is a visible smile and a tiny blush on her face. there are two speech bubbles: from skull it has internet and handshake emojis, from Lucy: handshake and a question mark./end id]

@czenzo's modern au featuring skullyle bickering (flirting) in broad daylight. scenes from Missed Call on AO3, this fic has been eating my brain away no end

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myheartbelongstogilbertblythe · 2 months ago

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my headcanon for if i were doing the music for season 2 of lockwood and co. (or listening to music alongside the book) is that "Just Like Heaven" by the Cure plays during the parade scene in the Hollow Boy. Like, it starts in the background maybe and then it REALLY starts as Lockwood and Lucy and Lucy jump off the float. Bombs flying, stuff on fire, Lockwood's coat flying out behind him, carnival lights twinkling- and them, together in the middle of it all.

The song has the same sort of vibe that the song from the Fittes ball has-- the sort of cheery synth vibe-- which makes perfect sense because they're both scenes where it's the two of them together. Plus it's another song by the Cure, which just fits the vibe of the show because they've used songs by them already.

And what's more fitting (/romantic) then a song that says "I'll run away with you" as they're running together?

Spinning on that dizzy edge I kissed her face and kissed her head And dreamed of all the different ways I had to make her glow "Why are you so far away", she said Why won't you ever know that I'm in love with you That I'm in love with you?

It shows that contrast between this divide that's grown between them and the rare moments when it is just them and they work well together. To Lucy, those moments are just like heaven, even though they're bittersweet because they never last.

And like the end of the book, the song ends with the singer alone like Lockwood is after Aickmeres and what follows.

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heyimadison · 1 year ago

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november 2023 : madison’s recs

so excited to start taking part in this!! thank you to all of the lovely authors whose words have made me kick my feet giggling or grip my chest in pain, and every other emotion in between. you guys are the real superheros of the heart, and i hope you receive the recognition you deserve <3

Criminal Minds

— spencer reid

in ruins ; part 2 @weehelers

Harry Potter

— theodore nott

i love you @cutesouls

i bet you think about me @beingsuneone

devil eyes @azrielscrown

( absolutely phenomenal cross post) with:

— mattheo riddle

hide and seek @writingsbychlo

OPLA

— Roranoa Zoro

the promised knight @togenabi

pick me up @togenabi

butterfly lovers @revasserium

hold me (still) @revasserium

daybreak @halfvalid

the summer i turned pretty

— conrad fisher

ocean eyes @cryonme

grishaverse

— kaz breaker

labyrinth @auroravictorium

when am i gonna lose you? @crowsmybeloveds

intruder 2 @ashessonfire

— nikolai lantsov

sick and stubborn @fleurspun

outer banks

— jj maybank

members of the heartbreak club @pogueszn

lockwood & co.

— anthony lockwood

the complications of a fake engagement ; part 2 @novelizt

avatar

— neteyam sully

warm hands @loaksky

the hearts that bind us @loaksky

by the grace (make no mistake i ii @loaksky

how do i make you love me @lanasblood

divider credit goes to @cafekitsune thank you!❤️

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lewkwoodnco · 10 months ago

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Ok would you consider writing more for George?? (shamelessly on an Ali kick atm if you couldn’t tell, this is @bobbys-not-that-small). If I was in the LnCo universe I think I’d be a librarian with little or no talent because I’m too jumpy and scared to be an agent. I’d wanna be a librarian who sometimes bends the rules for the agents who stay really late researching by bringing them a cup of tea or a snack 😊

After Hours - George Karim x Reader

"Did-did you just...spritz me? Like a cat?"

"Yes. Now shoo."

He stared at the colourful mosaic of water droplets coating his lenses stubbornly. She wasn't about to get rid of him that easily.

"Actually, I quite liked that."

a/n: asjfhfjlfh thank youuu to @bobbys-not-that-small for helping me get out of my writing slump!! this palate cleanser was exactly what I needed <3 decided to try smth new with the presentation of my fics wooooo but am having issues with the keep reading divider so this might be a little inconvenient to scroll past :( alsoooo may have gotten a little carried away here hehehe woops

warnings/tropes: snippy George (is there rlly any other kind tho) needs his biscuits, mild angst, happy ending, slight enemies to almost-lovers, fluff!

word count: 2.7k

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

Lockwood was standing over the kettle in the kitchen, half-asleep. Lockwood & Co.’s latest case was a bit more complex than they were used to, which meant that George needed a few extra days to properly research it. That meant that his and Lucy’s sleep schedule had started to settle down into one that was more typical - one where Lockwood was struggling to stifle his yawns in the middle of the night.

He hears some sounds coming from the hallway, and registers them half a second later. He picks up the nearest weapon he can find, a whisk, and tries to call out to the intruder, but his throat is so dry it’s more of a wheeze. The kitchen door inches open, and Lockwood poises to attack, before he pauses and squints at the figure in the doorway.

“George?”

George walks in, putting down his bag and jacket on one of the dining table chairs. “Thought you’d be asleep, Locky.”

“What’s this, a midnight stroll?”

“Sure.”

Lockwood blinked at the kitchen clock blearily. “It’s a hour to dawn.” As George shuffles about the kitchen, fixing his own cup of tea, a thought flits through his sleep-addled brain. “Hang on.” He opens his eyes even further, taking in how fully dressed George is, and starts putting two and two together. “Don’t tell me you’ve only just returned from the Archives.”

“Your hand’s in the milk jug. Again.”

Lockwood glances down and swears. George slips out of the kitchen with Lockwood's tea and biscuit, and he's just awake enough to notice.

“Hey, hey, it’s not your turn on the biscuit roster!”

But George was too content to care much about that. He had finally gotten a satisfactory day's worth of research which quelled the buzzing in his brain, if only for a couple of hours. As he settled into bed, his thoughts wandered to the librarian from earlier.

He had been so engrossed in his reading that he didn't notice anyone was standing over him until the sharp tap on his shoulder. When he did look up, he flinched terribly from the shock. In all fairness, she had been extremely apologetic.

"Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I just wanted to let you know that we're closing soon."

George slowly scanned the library, only just realising that the Archives had completely emptied. It was just the two of them and their voices echoing up to the high ceilings of the room. He half-formulated a response for a moment, but then realised this was his ideal situation, and turned back to his book.

There was another insistent tap on his shoulder and he glanced up to see a firmer set to the librarian's features.

"Perhaps I didn't make myself clear enough just now. We're closed."

"Okay," he murmured, still half-absorbed in his book. She sighed exasperatedly.

"Look, Mr. ..." she trailed off, and George stared back at her unhelpfully. She spied his name scrawled at the top of his notes, which he was too slow to shift out of sight. "...Karim."

"You're good at reading upside down."

"Thank you, it's one of my many talents. Unfortunately, I'm afraid I still have to ask you to leave."

"What if I said you were really good at reading upside down?"

"Flattery won't get you anywhere, Mr. Karim."

"Please, you don't need to address me by my surname." If the reddening of her face was any indication, he was right in guessing that he hadn't been able to snag his first name from the sheet.

"...I'm good, but not that good. My point, Mr. Karim, is that you have to leave."

He hummed noncommitally. She frowned. “Now you’re just being mean.”

George fought the overwhelming urge to roll his eyes.

“What can I say? You make it so easy.”

"I'll let you borrow an extra book."

"Hmm."

"Two extra books."

After that, they went around in circles for a while, before she stormed of. As the sun continued to set, she started switching off the lights. Even in the dark, he could feel her eyes burning into the back of his skull. He pulled out a few candles and lit them, just in time to illuminate her scowl as she irritatedly walked past him. She returned from her desk a moment later, her face stony.

"I'll ban you from the library if you don't leave right now."

"By all means." Her mouth shrivelled like she had just tasted something bitter, and he knew he had called her on her bluff.

"I'll revoke your borrowing privileges."

"Yes, because not letting me take books home is exactly how you'd get me to leave the library."

"I'll...I'll set the fantasy section visitor on you."

He didn't even look up from his book. "Give him my regards."

He paid dearly for his tongue-in-cheek a few minutes later, when he was smacked by a puff of icy mist, sudden enough to make him splutter with shock.

"Did-did you just...spritz me? Like a cat?"

"Yes. Now shoo."

He stared at the colourful mosaic of water droplets coating his lenses stubbornly. She wasn't about to get rid of him that easily.

"Actually, I quite liked that."

"You...liked that." She echoed him tonelessly.

He tried to muster up as much dignity as he could while feeling like his face was about to freeze off. "Mhm. Refreshing. Might go as far as to invite you to do it again."

She scoffed, slamming the spray bottle down in surrender.

"Fine. You win. But if you set anything on fire, so help me I will- hang on, I've got a lantern in here somewhere." With that, George watched her drift away distractedly, still mildly damp. He wondered how long he had to wait before asking for something to dry his glasses with.

For the next week, the librarian tolerated his odd hours, and George liked to think that she was coming around. She found out his first name from his library pass the next day, he found out how far he could push it with the late hours. Really, they were almost friends. He liked to think that especially after the night where he got hit in the face by something in a brown paper bag.

"Accidental pastry delivery," the librarian was saying, over the crinkle of the paper bag. "They wouldn't take it back and I've already stuffed myself the best I could."

George peered into the bag to see a deliciously flaky tart and a soft, powdered doughnut. He looked up to see her walking away, and was momentarily distracted by her odd shuffle. It took him a moment to realise she had a slight limp, as if she was carrying some dead weight. But when she returned, holding a tea tray and a viciously folded notebook, all thoughts about her limp flew out of his head. He wouldn't have thought to find such charmingly delicate fine china in a library, of all places.

"How much sugar do you take in your tea?" George blinked, still processing the pastries. She set a cup of tea in front of him, and he decided that it had just the right amount of sugar. She sat down opposite him and poured her own cup of tea, before scratching away at what he could now see was a crossword puzzle.

"Crosswords?"

She arched an eyebrow. "There's only so many books you can read in a day."

"Yes, but...crosswords?"

"You wouldn't believe how fun they are. For instance, right now I'm looking at a six-lettered word for 'nuisance.'"

That shut him up rather quickly. But over the next couple of nights, accident or otherwise, she always joined him for a cup of tea and a little treat once everyone else had cleared out.

And so a rhythm was established. On most nights, their limited conversation rarely strayed away from the tired topics that were which pastry he wanted, how late it was getting, and if he knew a five-letter word of only consonants for 'the immature form of an insect.' But he always wondered about her on the walk home, though he could never quite figure out how to ask. It was on a particularly uninteresting night that he got the answers to these half-formed questions.

He was doing his research, as usual, and she was sitting opposite him, pouring over a crossword puzzle, as usual, when he realised he needed a different volume. She barely stirred as he left the table, silently scratching away at the rough paper. Her stock still image lingered in his mind’s eye. There was something off about her today. She was a little more distracted than normal, and the abnormality unpleasantly reminded George of how little he knew about her. She was always just...there, hovering about, no matter how late it was. Didn't she have a family waiting up for her?

He returned to find her eyes fixed on his scribbled half-thoughts, as if intently deciphering his upside-down scrawls. She jerked back as he set the book down, eyes flitting nervously, almost guiltily.

"You took your time. Thought you got lost back there."

He opened his book with a deliberate slowness, as she fiddled with her pen. When he didn't respond, the forced cheeriness in her voice faded, as her eyes drifted back to his papers.

"Terribly exciting, isn't it? Being an agent."

"S'pose."

"I wanted to be one, when I was younger. Much younger."

The edge to her voice was subtle but unmistakable. He didn't like the way it grated unpleasantly against his ears.

"So how'd you end up here?"

"My talent never really blossomed. Good thing, too; I'd be all thumbs with a rapier anyway."

He frowned. "Hang on. How much can you see, exactly?"

"It's like...like a mist? Sometimes I miss them entirely."

"But you stay out so late past curfew."

"I know. I just try to walk home quickly enough. It's worked out so far."

George glanced at the flaky tart and the repulsively sugary, deep red jam glistening up at him, almost quivering in the flickering candlelight. His appetite was suddenly feeling a little funny.

"Nymph."

"Hm?"

"Five letters, no vowels. Nymph."

She glanced at her crossword, giving a small hum of approval. "So it is."

"But you already knew that."

"Did I?"

Her voice took on a mildly dispirited tone, but it was enough to signal her fading interest in the conversation. His prodding felt frustratingly futile - even now, there was so much of her shrouded in the shadows, shrouded in mystery. He didn't know what to do, or what to say, and he didn't like it. Suddenly, he wasn't sure how much he believed her, something she seemed to pick up on.

"Look, I'm too much of a live wire to be an agent. Can't we just leave it at that?"

"It’s getting late,” he said softly, and the words felt foreign on his tongue, for someone who never cared about the time. His voice sounded distant even to his own ears. But she had already returned to her crossword.

Days passed, and the awkward night was forgotten. They continued growing closer and getting more familiar with each other, if at a snail's pace. One night, she had used up the last teabag for George's tea and waved off his insisting that she have the tea, instead opting for a drink that looked suspiciously alcoholic.

As George expected, she was a little past tipsy by the time they were done, and he lingered behind worriedly as she fumbled to lock up. He walked with her a little further than he normally did, occasionally tipping her upright when she got too giggly.

"Where did you say you lived, again?" George tried to keep his tone nonchalant, hoping she wouldn't realise she never said it a first time. She vaguely pointed ahead, speaking thickly, but he couldn't quite decipher her slurred words. Rolling her eyes exasperatedly, she wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pressed her face flush against his as she repeated herself, gesturing wildly with her other arm.

"Two blocks down, then a left, walk another block, then a right, and it's the third door on your right. 51 South Street. There's honeysuckle all over the door, you can't miss it."

She tilted her head sideways, lips brushing his cheekbone. He didn't dare to breathe.

"I can take it from here. Don't think I'll be forgetting this in the morning."

She let go of him as smoothly as she hap clasped herself to him, walking ahead briskly with only minimal stumbling.

"Night, Georgie!" Yes, she must be quite well past tipsy. He watched her till she turned the corner, and almost reluctantly turned to walk home himself.

"Where's Y/N?"

George didn't mean to be impolite, but when there was a different librarian handing him his day pass the following week, he didn’t know how else to respond.

“Miss L/N’s called in sick this morning. But I’d be happy to help you with any of your Archives needs.”

The Archives felt frustratingly foreign that day. He hadn’t realised how comforting her lingering had been, to feel rather than see her wandering through the aisles just feet from him. The Archives’ closing was enough to chase him out a few hours later.

He started on the beaten path back to 35 Portland Row, before pausing. He turned, looking at the roads behind him, softly lit up by the fading rays of the setting sun. She couldn’t live that far. Just a block, or maybe two, then…was it a right?

Haltingly, he walked forward, looking this way and that amongst the tall houses which were all beginning to look worryingly identical. But she was right. 51 South Street did stick out with the heavily perfumed buttercup-yellow honeysuckle framing the door. That, and the girl smoking on the front steps of the house.

She glanced up from the gravel she was staring at as he drew closer, staring at him with cloudy eyes until she finally seemed to register him.

“…George! You’re - what? Did something happen?”

“You tell me.”

She fiddled with the ends of her hair with her free hand distractedly. “Oh. I’m alright. My leg was feeling a little bad in the morning, so I called in sick.”

He raised his eyebrows slightly. “Didn’t take you for a smoker.”

“I’m not. It just helps with the pain.”

“For now. For an hour. You know it’s only making it worse in the long run.”

She either coughed or laughed, he couldn’t tell. He watched her breath smoke like sighs, in silence.

"I used to be an agent. And I wasn’t half bad at it, either. But I tripped up, once…lost half the nerves in my left leg. After the ghost touch, my Sight-” she pressed a hand to her eyelids, trembling for something grieved. “My Sight…it was never the same again. I tried to stay on for a while, but it was so difficult, and so painful for everyone…so I left. I couldn’t do anything with my hip connected to this…dead weight.” She tapped her cigarette experimentally, ash snowing over her shoe. “I’m dead weight, Karim.”

He wanted to comfort her, but he was never the comforting type.

“You miss it.”

“I do. I love the Archives, but…I feel like I’m part of everyone’s life, except for my own. I don’t feel like my own person. I felt so…alive as an agent. Like I’d burst into flames at any minute, as if I had that much more life which the visitors didn’t have.”

George knew the type. He lived with the type.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m glad you didn’t. Burst into flames, I mean.”

She half smiled into the palm she was resting her chin on. “Aww, Georgie.”

George coughed awkwardly, starting to drift away now that she was clearly feeling better. He recognised that teasing look on her face a little too well. “Okay, you’re alright now.”

“Did you oh so miss me today?”

“That’s enough out of you.”

“Not getting fond of me, are you Georgie?”

The back of his neck flamed red. She was definitely alright now.

TAGLIST: @dangelnleif @elenianag080 @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @avdiobliss @mitskiswift99 @ahead-fullofdreams @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co #lockwood and co netflix #fanfiction #george karim x reader #george x reader #george cubbins #george karim imagine #george karim x you #george karim

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wordsarelife · 10 months ago

Text

—lavender haze

pairing: anthony lockwood x kipps!reader

summary: despite kipps best efforts to keep you away from each other, lockwood won't stop flirting with you

warnings: none

“the beautiful kipps!” anthony lockwood called upon your sight.

you bowed down a little, hand on your chest and fluttered your eyelashes, smiling. “mr lockwood” you replied, taking the hand he was holding towards you and watching as he planted a featherlight kiss on it.

“wow” lucy muttered next to the both of you “i’d never thought i would hear you say kipps and beautiful in the same sentence”

“well” lockwood nodded “only when it’s y/n” he said

“thank you” you smiled and giggled at the odd greeting you two had just done spontaneously

“morning, lucy.. tony” quill came to a halt next to you, dropping the bag of equipment and taking a double take at your still intertwined hands.

“tony, would you be so kind to let the fuck go of my sibling?”

you stepped backwards at his angry tone and your hand left lockwood’s embrace

“hey, gentle” lockwood smiled smugly

“don’t be an anymore bigger pain in the ass than you’re usually are, tony” quill put his other bag down “my sibling's too good for you anyways”

“sure” lockwood nodded

“so what are we doing here?” asked lucy to change the topic

“yeah” said kat “why do they need both teams?”

“easy” barnes had stepped into the middle of the circle “it’s a huge property with more than just a few ghosts and you are the best teams i know, so i thought you could do it”

“great idea” you smiled and barnes nodded at you thankfully

“at least be civil with each other this one time” barnes said “it will profit you both in more than one case”

“we can do that” you assured the man, who send you a smile, before he got back into his car. “we can do that... right, guys?” you asked, now directed at the two teams around you

"anything for you, darling" lockwood smiled and you looked down, blushing. quill took you by the shoulders and softly pushed you behind him, successfully breaking lockwoods sight on you.

"we can do that" he said "but you stay away from them, or else we're gonna have a problem, you hear me?"

"sure, kipps" lockwood shrugged, but the second quill had turned around and went back to instruct his team, lockwood caught your eye and shook his head at you, laughing as you had to giggle

despite quill's continuous attempts to keep lockwood and you away from each other, there had already been a few kisses shared between the two of you, without anyone knowing of course.

"we need to split up, the building really is huge" said lockwood from next to you. quill's hand immediately wandered to your shoulder

"y/n is coming with me, of course" he said

"i don't know, quill" you shook your head at your brother "it would be smarter to pair the talents. i should go with lockwood, yeah?"

quill sighed, but couldn't really say no to your request. he grabbed your arm and softly dragged you over to his equipment. "look, y/n" he said "i know that lockwood has been wanting for you to join lockwood and co for years now, and if you really want to, i won't stay in your way"

you could see that he was sad about it. "oh, quill" you mused. "let's discuss this later, yeah? it's just for this case, just trust me, okay?"

"fine" quill breathed "but if he touches you--"

"--i will let him know that he will loose a limb, of course" you nodded and your brother smiled proudly

"okay then" he nudged your shoulder, before he hugged you tightly "be careful, and if the moment will come, let lockwood die"

"quill" you slapped his arm and your brother laughed. then you went back to lockwood

"did he say anything about me?" lockwood asked intrigued and if you didn't know the nature of their relationship, you could've almost thought that he was interested in your brother.

"no, nothing, just advised me to be careful"

lockwood nodded. "y/n and i will take the west wing"

the rest of the two teams divided into smaller groups, as you followed the boy inside.

“isn’t it kind of annoying that your brother always decides what you have to do?”

“he’s my supervisor” you just shrugged

“i know, but wouldn’t it be easier on your relationship if he wasn’t?”

“you’re gonna get him to resign? or barnes to kick him out?”

“that’s not what i meant” lockwood shook his head

“you have to be more clear, then” you played dumb, as if you didn’t know what he was hinting at.

“y/n” lockwood groaned and his voice sounded desperate now. "you know that i would love for you to join lockwood and co"

"i know" you nodded "and i like you lockwood, a lot, you know that, but i have to stay with my brother"

lockwood sighed "are you sure?"

"positive" you nodded "isn't it easier on our relationship if you're not my employer"

lockwood smiled smugly "our relationship, huh?"

"yeah" you shrugged "how about a date after this?"

"i'd like that. a lot" he let you walk through the door in the hallway first, sticking close to you while you inspecting the west wing, without finding anything.

"seems like we missed out on the fun" lockwood said later when you helped kat out away the source. the west wing had been clear of any supernatural activity and you had only wandered around until you had been called out by the others.

"no" you laughed "i don't think so" you tilted your head to the side, looking at him. "i had a good time and i didn't even have to nearly survive for that"

"okay, me too" he grinned

"y/n" quill called coming over to you "i think this tells me everything i need to know, right?" he looked between the both of you "you are leaving, aren't you?"

"i won't join lockwood and co" you said, crossing your arms and leaning against the car

"you won't?" quill asked surprised, raising his eyebrows at you, like you were trying to make a joke. his eyes jumped to lockwood, who cleared his throat

"no" lockwood answered "seems like they have a priority" he pointed at the older boy

"you're staying because of me?"

"of course!" you smiled "i could never leave the best supervisor in the country"

"debatable" lockwood muttered under his breath, but you both ignored him.

"but i want you to be fine with another decision i made"

"what is it?" quill sighed, already sensing that he wouldn't like what he was about to hear

"i'm gonna start dating lockwood" you said simply "and i want you to be okay with that"

quill sighed once again, rubbing the space between his eyebrows in a similiar manner as barnes always did when lockwood was discussing something with him. "okay" he nodded, as if he had to accept defeat "but you'll be a gentleman, you hear me" he pointed an accusing finger in lockwoods direction. "if i hear one bad thing!"

lockwood raised his arms defensively "when have i ever not been?" he asked wide eyed

"i'm just making sure we're on the same page"

"alright, thank you quill" you pushed down his arms "i'll call you" you smiled in lockwood's direction, then you send a quick look to quill, before you decided to kiss lockwood on the cheek.

you followed quill back to the car, leaving lockwood to look after you in awe.

"guess i have to get used to that" quill muttered exasperated

"yes, you have"

#lockwood and co #anthony lockwood x reader #george karim #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #netflix #ali hadji heshmati #cameron chapman #ghost hunting #ruby stokes #lockwood x gn!reader #quill kipps #quill kipps x reader #quill kipps x sibling!reader #anthony lockwood x kipps!sibling reader #lockwoodandco #lockwood #forbidden love

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dracosleftarsecheek · 8 months ago

Text

Hello darlings

Hi everyone!! Welcome to my hole of chaos, I hope you stick along for the wild ride..

INTRO POST:

name: Ellis <3

pronouns: they/them (sometimes he/him)

gender identity: nonbinary :)

sexuality: lesbiannn

i am a red fox therian!!

Witchy Shit For My Fellow Magicks

status: maiden, new to the practice

faith: celtic

spirits/deities: morrigan and arianrhod

zodiac: capricorn

signature tarot cards: the moon, page of swords

things i associate myself with: ravens, bats, citrine, ivy, the colour green

things i love: adventures, chaos, forests, converse, sketching, writing, reading, romance, folk tales, stars, sleepovers, goblincore grungey style

music: arctic monkeys, the smiths, chappell roan, billie eilish, conan gray, yaelokre, phoebe bridgers, kaiser chiefs, blondshell, girl in red, tv girl, gorillaz, lana del ray

fandoms: six of crows, lockwood and co, marauders, star wars, atla, julie and the phantoms

ships i ship: wolfstar, jegulus, drarry, linny, gauntlow, perciver, rosekiller, dorlene, marylily, wolfwren, thranto, kalluzeb, wesper, kanej, helnik, zoyalai, locklyle, zukka, kataang, juke, willex

fun facts:

i'm a slytherin and a james potter kinnie <3

my grisha order is etherealki, inferni

i have audhd and switch hyperfixations very quickly

current hyperfix: soc

i write fanfics (occasionally) on my ao3 account, dracosrightarsecheek

i am a minor so nothing inappropriate

i am also very delusional so keep this in mind

my moots:

@uhmmmmaixllezhere - my gf

@i-eat-so-much-grass @justafrogghost @bleep-bloop-boo @homocidalpotat @onceinalifetimexperiencebuttwice @touslin

@anything-for-my-moony-1971 @lusxnei6 @fairyycoffin @bl0ssomized @yourlocalbadgerscales

@names-confuse-me @cheekyboybeth @here-am-i-sitting-in-a-tin-can @fairyycoffin

and more people that I forget bc my memory is so shit if you specifically want to be tagged here moots just ask

i love chatting and making new friends, as long as you aren't a creep or a dick, then i shall block you

dni if you are a disgusting and bad person <3

i do have several other blogs, all which belong to rp groups, check them out if you're interested

soc rp: @yestheglovesarepermanent, i play kaz

marauders rp: @sconewithjamesplease, i play james

victorian oc rp: @acertainmrcharlieclifton, i play my original character charlie, who works as a butler in a manor

go follow mine and my partner @uhmmmmaixllezhere 's oc universe blog, @oneextremelyspiritualtree !!

enjoy my blog, dears, if you have any questions just pop me an ask, within reason ofc

credit to @plum98 and @rosypotions for the text dividers

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liaazhang · 1 year ago

Text

april • she/her • intp • 16 • indian • bi • multifandom mess • bollywood enthusiast •

Free Palestine 🇵🇸

other accounts: goodreads |

i don't do chain asks anymore, so please don't send them <3

currently watching: gossip girl ; how i met your mother

currently reading: song of silver, flame like night ; legendary

prev urls: isnt-it-delicate15 -> timelessstv -> gxldrushh -> lovestrucklovelorn -> rachellelizabethhdare -> gethimbackpdf -> rosaadiazs -> bedchemmp3 -> liaazhang

artists I love

taylor swift • olivia rodrigo • sabrina carpenter • conan gray • halsey • gracie abrams • maisie peters • renee rapp • chappell roan and most importantly - random bollywood songs

movies

pride and prejudice (2005) • mean girls (2004) • the star wars films • legally blonde • little women (2019) • into the spiderverse and across the spiderverse • the school for good and evil • bollywood films like yeh jawani hain deewani, jab we met, dil dhadakne do, 3 idiots, zindagi na milegi dobara etc etc

tv shows

friends • brooklyn nine nine • modern family • how i met your mother • the good place • parks and recreation • gilmore girls • loki • ms marvel • wandavision • a series of unfortunate events • never have I ever • julie and the phantoms • 911

books

keeper of the lost cities • the pandava quintet • riordanverse • grishaverse • the land of stories • hunger games trilogy • a good girl's guide to murder • the seven husbands of evelyn hugo • the inheritance games • the lunar chronicles • lockwood and co • daisy jones and the six • pride and prejudice • emma • the naturals • five survive • the reappearance of rachel price • the one of us is lying trilogy • the school for good and evil • I hope this doesn't find you • and too many more to count <3

• I may listen to and like taylor swift's music but i most definitely do not support the problematic things she has done, nor do i support her silence about the ongoing Palestinian genocide

• dividers by @cafekitsune !!

• you're welcome to send asks and interact :D DMs are always open as well!!

• feel free to tag me in any post you think id like! (bonus points if its related to cats)

• I tend to swear sometimes

• DNI : basic dni criteria - creeps, racist, homophobes, transphobes, zionists, jkr supporters etc

• I do not like colleen hoover and booktok. at all. and yes I will always complain about her shitty books and other atrocities that booktok (or tiktok in general) has unleashed upon the world

• I make a lot of typos and it's up to you to decipher them <3

• my biggest flex is that my birthday is on world book day <3

• english isn't my first language so please excuse me if I make any grammatical errors!!

moodboard by @skeelly <33

#intro post #pinned post

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graciebrams · 25 days ago

Text

𓇢𓆸 get to know me

hi I'm ema you can call me em or ems <3 my pronouns are she/her, desi 𐙚˙⋆.˚

✧ i ��٥٧٤ : rose gold, silver jewellery, coffee, books, ribbons, hoop earrings, lipgloss, handwritten letters, choclate, colours pink, brown and sage green, bracelets, cats, ballet flats, sundresses, rings, sunsets, dried out flower petals, collecting old movie tickets, etc ᱖　⠀˙⠀　｡

ꪆৎ fav artists : gracie abrams, taylor swift, sabrina carpenter, lexi jayde, eileen alister, alessi rose, alix page, maise peters, birdy, the nbhd, chase atlantics, the weeknd, johnny orlando, harry styles, lizzy mcalpine, beabadoobee, girl in red, olivia rodrigo, evanescance, ROLEMODLE, phoebe bridgers, 1D, billie eilish, finneas, lexi caroll, clairo, conan gray, cate, CAS, gracen reign, madison beer, mazzy stars, MARINA, lyn lapid ᱖　⠀˙⠀　｡

✧ fav shows: gilmore girls, anne with an e, lockwood and co., two broke girls, derry girls, b99, my mad fat diary, opposite sex, YOU, insatiable, the office, the good doctor, dash and lily, the irregulars, my life with the walter boys, the summer i turned pretty, friends, breaking bad, girl meets world, my lady jane, maxton hall, ted lasso, supernatural, gossip girl, the oc, bridgerton, OBX. ᱖　⠀˙⠀　｡

ꪆৎ fav youtubers: carys rachel, ceri jones, heather wotherspoon, ur internet mom ash, luna montana, audrey mika, basicgorl, just sharon, naomi victoria, anna lenks, niki and gabi, sarah betts, emma chamberlain, ahaspoofy, tia gabriella, caitlyn marie, nailea, sadie aldis, grace's room, sturniolo triplets, tara yummy, benoftheweek, larray, madeline argy, sab quesada, cam and fam, kalogera sisters, quen blackwell, alana lintao, sam and colby, melieya, kailpeery, nick wilkins. ᱖　⠀˙⠀　｡

✧ other favs: sophia birlem, sadie sink, cailey spainey, lola tung, chris briney, daisy edgar jones, amybeth mcnulty, lily collins, rowan blanchard, nicola coughlan, emma stone, sarah carpenter, cory foeglmanis, diana silvers, nicholas hoult, caitlyn dever, lauren graham, sarosie ronan, anne hathway, tom holland, zendaya, andrew garfield, laura marano, florence pugh, jenna ortega, cooper koch, harrison osterfield, harry holland, sam holland, paddy holland, tuwaine barett. ᱖　⠀˙⠀　｡

ꪆৎ fav movies: little women (1994 and 2019), the princess diaries (1 and 2), anne of green gables, carrie 1976, roman holiday, sabrina (1954), qala, freaky friday, legally blonde, 13 going on 30, to all the boys, kissing booth, adventures in babysitting, 16 wishes, 16 candles, how to build a better boy, priscilla 2023, the fault in our stars, dirty dancing, love rosie, stuck in love, tolkien, the devil all the time, all spiderman and marvel movies, uncharted,

prev urls : sparksssflytv -> graciebrams

• divider by @issysh3ll

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vaya-writes · 1 year ago

Text

Serving the Serpent - 7

Briar owes Lord Isen her life. She works off her debt by serving in his castle. Dealing with the rapidly changing circumstances of her life, she’s not used to anyone paying her much attention. It’s hard when Isen seems set on interacting with her.

Cis female human with selective mutism x male naga (slow burn, co-workers to lovers, power imbalances, eventual smut). 2700 words. Content warnings for this chapter include allusions to Briar's cult-like upbringing, it's implied that Isen did not have a great childhood, and some unwanted romantic advances (though not taken far). Divider from firefly-graphics

Briar is still adjusting to her new position. Cue some world building, and some backstory tidbits from Isen regarding his family.

Previous - Masterlist

Briar’s stress starts to pick up the first time Isen uses the speaking tube. She hadn’t slept late. Not really. But Isen had to be up early for a meeting, and had woken before Briar in a rare instance.

There’d been a shrill whistle from the tube beside her bed, and Briar had been awake immediately, heart pounding, panicking as she tried to kick her legs free of the blankets. It had taken her several moments to place herself, to identify the source of the noise, and to calm her breathing before opening the valve of the speaking tube and tapping on the metal mouthpiece, nails clacking to signify she was ready for Isen’s message.

Things grow hectic from there. With Winter's arrival, Isen is busier, attending meetings with the locals at least twice a week. Much of Isen’s time is spent with Dinah Vulsinger, his financier, finalising the budget for the upcoming year. The rest is spent with Arol, Isen’s right hand. The lizard is from the area, and has a large part in organising last minute supplies for the winter, and preparing for the thaw.

Briar dutifully follows Isen in this time, keeping her ears open, learning as much as she can about how he governs the Lowlands.

She learns to write with ease. It’s still slow going, and her vocabulary is miniscule compared to those around her. But gradually she learns new words and their spellings. Numbers come less easily to her, but Lockwood has her practicing different sums each day.

Isen makes Briar read the documents Dinah sends him. He makes her read everything, for that matter, until the words swim before her eyes, and she no longer parses meaning from the papers. Sure, reading budgets and stock counts help her understand applied mathematics. But there’s only so much she can absorb each day.

She comes to relish her work as a cleaner and servant. It’s a chance to let her mind wander. To work without being in a state of intense concentration. But the tasks dwindle as she becomes more efficient. With the floors cleaned each day, it hardly takes her half an hour to do them. She could probably change Isen’s linens with her eyes closed. It leaves her with far too much time on her hands – time that Isen easily monopolises.

Because when she’s not cleaning, or reading, or following him around from meeting to meeting, duty to duty, he’s speaking to her. Chattering about his work, even if half the information goes over her head. Asking how to sign certain things. Gently prodding now and then, about Briar herself. About New Haven. About her aunt. About her life before.

She’s grateful he doesn’t ask certain questions. Not what happened to her parents. Nor why she is mute. Or how she ended up a sacrifice to the beastly creature of Eastern Highwood. She’s not sure if she’s ready to share those aspects of herself. It’s hard enough talking about herself. She’d been taught from a young age: she was to be seen and not heard. Speaking only when spoken to. Her worth was less than those around her.

Isen must have been raised differently, she thinks. Despite being a Lord. Despite owning land. Something must have happened to make him different. Why else would he treat all his servants with kindness and smiles? Greet the peasants among them with familiarity, and good humour? Why else would he keep asking her opinion? Touching her hand as he passed? Bumping shoulders when she forgets her guard?

It confuses her. Flusters her. Unsettles her. But she grows... not quite used to it. But to expect it. The casualness, and the disregard for etiquette. His freedom with touch, and his continuous quips. She’s not sure she’ll ever be completely okay with them, but it gets easier to mask her surprise. Easier to relax her shoulders, and not freeze up completely if he lingers in her personal space a moment too long. He’s proven himself safe to be around. Backing off when she ices him out, or apologising if he notices her discomfort.

“You look tired,” he comments over one dinner.

She straightens, suddenly aware of her slouch. Then shrugs. ‘I’m fine.’

A smile flickers at his mouth, before he covers it with his hand. “You’re allowed to be tired, you know.”

Is she? She’d woken up to the speaking tube again, letting her know that Isen would be taking his breakfast elsewhere. Hastily she’d dressed and stepped into Isen’s chambers to ask if he wished she accompany him, but he’d waved her off.

It takes a mental toll, being switched on all the time. Being on standby, even when Isen doesn’t have her working. She’s loath to disappoint, or to keep Isen waiting. He doesn’t interrupt her during her down time often, but when he does, she can’t help but scramble into action, an unwelcome anxiety growing in her, that if she makes him wait too long, he’ll be unhappy. He’ll punish her.

“Are you following the new lessons Lockwood gave you?”

She stills her features, masking her displeasure. She’d started learning multiplication and division. It’s a lot to get her head around, but she is picking it up. ‘They’re not easy, but I can do them.’

Isen lets the smile show this time. “They’ll get easier with practice.”

There’s a beat of silence while they both eat. Isen breaks it again. “And the meetings. We haven’t been debriefing as frequently. Did you have any questions?”

Endless questions. She lets her next frown show. ‘Yes, but...’ she struggles with her phrasing, ‘...I don’t know where to start.’ She also hadn’t wanted to bother Isen. She knows he’s open to teaching her, answering her questions. He does so with patience every time. But she also only asks the most pertinent of questions, not wanting to take hours just to fill in the gaps of her knowledge.

That and there are questions she literally can't ask. She doesn’t know the signs, or the spelling for several of the concepts that are mentioned in front of her. It’s frustrating.

“Start at the beginning?”

It’s not very helpful advice. Still. She leans back to consider a topic. Decides on something of current relevance.

‘What happens during the thaw?’ (Thaw. Melt. Ice change to water.)

“Oh, the thaw. Well, it floods, of course. You probably haven’t seen the worst of it in Highwood, but depending on the length of the winter, some of the usual settlements become uninhabitable. It doesn't last long, but it can be quite destructive.”

Briar frowns. ‘Why build there?’

Isen shrugs. “Where else? The woods are narrow, populated with humans and beasts. You can live in the marsh if you build on stilts. The only things we can farm in this area practically grow in the water. And there are no main roads, so all imports have to come by river.”

Briar almost doesn’t ask her next question. ‘Is it worth it?’

Isen raises his brows. “What? Living here?”

‘Ruling here.’ (Ruling. Owning. Working.)

Isen smiles at that, the expression unusually contrite. “It’s... not a glamourous area, no. But my father bestowed stewardship to me. And people would live here regardless of rule. So, I take it upon myself to do a good job.”

It’s strange having such a casual conversation with Isen. Learning details about him that don’t come up when he’s on the clock.

‘Who is your father?’

Isen’s expression hardens, if minutely. Still, Briar braces at the change in his exterior. “My father. Lucien Kovit. One of the Collective. He rules over nearly half of the Isles, if you include my and my sister’s territories.”

Briar blinks. She’d had no idea that Isen had come from such an influential family.

He winces at her expression. “Don’t. It doesn’t change anything. My father is an arrogant, controlling, unkind male, and I’d rather not be grouped in with him.”

Still, curiosity eats at her. Her family situation was vastly different from many of the ones she saw growing up; she can’t help but wonder at how Isen was raised.

‘What about your mother?’

Isen relaxes, but not by much. “One of father’s many wives. Their partnership was less political, and more about offspring. A boa and a sea serpent were considered an unstable match, but father wanted a clutch of venomous children. Regardless, I barely knew the female. We were all my father’s creatures.”

Something about his phrasing makes Briar reexamine Isen. Sympathy creeps through her. Enough so that part of her is tempted to share her own fraught history. A part she staunchly ignores, in favour of more interesting information.

She hopes it’s a lighter topic. ‘And are you?’

“Am I...?”

‘Venomous?’ She has to mime the meaning, pointing at her teeth when no synonyms come to mind.

“Oh, no. Well, I’ve no venom I can use in combat anyway.”

There’s a grey tinge to Isen’s cheeks. Is he... blushing?

A growing part of her is dying to know what he means, politeness be damned. ‘Not in combat?’ (Combat. Fight.)

“No,” he says, more firmly. “My sister Zyla, and my brother Starlen inherited deadlier venoms. Zyla possesses an uncommon neurotoxic venom which paralyses her opponents, whereas Starlen has a more traditional hemotoxin.”

Briar has no idea what several of those words mean, but she knows a deflection when she hears one. Clearly Isen doesn’t want to talk about his own abilities.

She respects the move, begrudgingly, and shrugs. ‘You have siblings?’ (Brother. Sister. Both. Siblings.)

He grimaces. “Too many half siblings to count. Literally scores of them. But of my clutch there are three. Zyla, Starlen, and Kylet.”

‘What are they like?’

Isen finishes his food and slouches over his desk. “Zyla is the golden child. She has a whole island under her stewardship. Starlen... has a posting in the Isle military. Kylet is a bit of an entrepreneur. A bad one. Regardless, father still funds their businesses. Encourages them when they fail.” Isen frowns. “That one could get away with murder if they tried.”

Briar tries reading between the lines. She’s not sure why but it seems like, ‘you’re not favoured?’

Isen’s nose crinkles. “Not in the least. Father doesn’t like my style of business.”

‘Why?’

Isen shrugs. “I’m not trying to conquer the neighbours. Or build a monopoly. My name won’t be in history books or written on statues and plaques. He’s obsessed with legacy. Always on my case about making a name for myself. Or how I run the place.” He rolls his eyes. “Just thinking about it irritates me. Can we talk about something else?”

Brian offers Isen a rare smile. It’s small, and strained, and her next signs are hesitant, but she offers as much solidarity as she can. ‘I wasn’t favoured either.’

Isen’s next smile matches her own. It’s more of a grimace. “Based on how we met, I’d gathered.” He doesn’t meet her eyes when he next speaks, staring instead at one of the reports on his desk. She gets the feeling that he’s paying close attention, however. “Did you want to talk about it?”

She lets out a noise of displeasure.

Isen looks back to her, surprised at the vocalisation.

‘No thank you.’

He gives a begrudging smile. “If you ever change your mind, I’ll listen.”

She shrugs, and stands, ready to tidy up. She’s collecting dishes and clearing the desk when she notices Isen’s stare. He looks contemplative, biting his lip absent mindedly.

It’s an effort not to fidget under his gaze, and she wonders if he even realises he’s staring. Until he breaks the silence.

“I’ve a trip planned later this week. It’s not far, just touring the villages in the Lowlands. Would you like to come with me?”

Briar blinks. It’s hard to parse an expected reaction when Isen’s face is carefully composed into neutrality. She evades the question, asking instead, ‘Should I come?’

Her boss shrugs. “It would be a good opportunity to see the Lowlands. Learn about the villages. See me at work.”

She imagines he might let her stay behind if she truly wished. But he makes a fair point. Apprehension still fills her. ‘I’ve never travelled before.’

He breaks into a gentle smile. “It’s a longer trip from Highwood to here than it is to the villages.”

She contains a wince. Keeps the sentiment to herself – that she doesn’t remember much of that trip to Riversreach. That she’d been drugged into insensibility and numb with terror.

But he waits patiently for her answer. Perhaps he’d be amenable towards a few questions...

‘How long?’

He relaxes fractionally at her interest. “A day at the shortest. It’s usually an overnight trip.

‘Why?’

“Why is it an overnight trip?”

‘Why do you go?’

His eyes unfocus as he considers. “This trip is to inspect preparations for winter and the thaw. Arol could do it for me, but I try to visit the locals once each season. Remind them I exist.”

‘They would otherwise forget?’ (Else. If you did not.)

Isen smiles, though not at her. “It’s easier to build trust and connections with a person when you know their face, don’t you think? When you can speak with them from time to time. I could delegate the work, but I like to hear the local problems for myself on occasion, too. It certainly makes them more tangible than if I just read about it.”

She’s surprised at his reasoning. The Pilgrims had taught her that authority (except from their own leaders, or course) was always out of touch. That they did not care for the peasants or their problems. She’d wondered why he’d been so busy with meetings lately. The stream of locals visiting twice weekly had perplexed her.

“So, will you join me?”

She’s still apprehensive. But now she can’t help but feel curious. And that curiosity outweighs the fear. Barely.

She gives Isen a measured nod.

He smiles. “I’ll let Arol know. He'll sort our transport and accommodation. Do let Lockwood know that you’ll be absent from your lessons, yes?”

Briar finishes her tidying. Typically, she’d rejoin Isen at the table, reading over his reports, but tonight he waves her off.

“You’ve done enough today, Legs. Unless you want to keep working.”

She conceals a grimace at the nickname. Then shrugs. ‘What else would I do?’

Isen stills, before frowning at Briar. “I don’t know if anyone has told you this, but you are welcome to leave Riversreach on your days off. Or visit your old quarters to socialise during the evenings. There are shops in the villages too. You might see something you’d like to purchase.”

She had not been told. She hadn’t even been aware that she had days off. Perhaps Lockwood had informed her, on that first day here. But she’d been too sick with anxiety, too grief stricken over the loss of her home to take in any of the details. She hadn’t even left the castle in her weeks here, nor spent any of her wages. It’s little wonder she has no source of leisure.

She doesn’t let any of that show on her face, though. Instead, she gives Isen a gracious nod. ‘I’ll bear it in mind.’

He tilts his head, a playful lilt entering his words. “Unless, of course, you’re lingering because you enjoy my company.”

She gives Isen a flat stare, but it’s not enough to dissuade him from continuing.

“I’m actually going to bed now, Legs. So, unless you wanted to join me...”

She can’t help but stiffen; her lips pursing with the effort it takes to bite back her scowl. She decides right then that she’d rather spend the next few hours doing nothing in her room, than deal with Isen’s casual advances.

‘Goodnight, my lord,’ she signs, before promptly leaving.

It’s a shame of course, she reflects upon entering her room. She’s confident by now that Isen won’t fire her for leaving so suddenly. That he won’t hold it against her if she denies his advances, or shirks his humour.

She just wishes he wouldn’t make such attempts. If it weren’t for them, she could almost allow herself to agree with him. To admit that she really does enjoy his company.

If only a little.

#sorry for the long wait #writing this was like pulling nails #i had to take a bit of a palate cleanser with those little fanfics i dropped #but im back on my shit with these two #we've got an only one bed trope coming up soon #vaya writes #serving the serpent #monster romance #nagas

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