#Lockwood and co fanfic

[sevencupsoftea]

a certain step towards falling in love

chapter three: i was in the middle before i knew i had begun

'I think you are in very great danger of making him as much in love with you are ever.' Here, in tiny writing, almost hidden against the text, Lockwood had scrawled Luce.

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a certain step towards falling in love

‘After a silence of several minutes he came towards her in an agitated manner, and thus began,’ Lucy knew this one, even without having read the book before. The infamous proposal scene. Lockwood had explained it to her at once, trying to stay awake on a long case. ‘In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.’ He’d underlined it three times. Lucy reads Lockwood's copy of Pride and Prejudice

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[marvelwitchergilmore]

Punch At First Sight

Summary: Anthony Lockwood x Fe!Reader -> You and Lockwood have met a few times before, however after a punch to the face for the third time, Lockwood, which a push from Lucy, decides to make things different.

Disclaimer: Multiple uses of the f-word. Mentions of accidental violence, ghosts, Kipps being a dick, a slap across the face. Fluff, angst, hints of jealousy, and Lucy giving Lockwood a needed talking to. Not Proof Read.

It was meant to be an easy case. 

A couple of type ones haunting an abandoned building just outside of London. The local ghost hunters had all created that big of a myth they had scared themselves away. And the cost of a Fittes agent was too high of a price for the type of ghosts they had. So, Lockwood and Co were the business chosen. 

Only, it would have been nice to know if one of the previous agents had reached out to an old friend to take care of the job as well. 

But, no. 

Instead, whilst listening out for the ghosts, Lockwood stepped around a corner and when getting ready to attack what he thought was a ghost, he was met with a punch to the face and then a voice calling out; “Oh my god, you’re human.”

“Do you make a habit of punching ghosts?”

Then, through watered eyes, he saw the outline of the person who had punched him and it seemed she had clear enough vision in the dark to recognise him. 

“Lockwood?”

“Wait.” he knew that voice. “Y/n?”

“Holy crap. I am so sorry. Are you okay? Wait. Why are you even here?”

“The same as you, I’m guessing. Unless you tend to sneak into abandoned buildings at two in the morning.”

“Sophie didn’t even tell me they hired someone else. Are you sure you’re alright?”

Lockwood managed to stand up straight this time just as Lucy and George came running round the corner. 

“We heard a scream.”

“What’s going on?”

George looked from Lockwood to you. “Y/n?”

“Hi, George.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Nice to see you, too.”

“She was hired.” Lockwood explained just before Lucy spotted him. 

“Holy crap, are you okay?”

Lockwood nodded. “Just a little stunned.”

“I really am sorry.”

“We really have to stop meeting like this.” Lockwood said, with a slight smile as he looked at you. 

Then came a scream. 

“Considering we’re all here and considering no-one else was hired to do this job-” George began. 

“That wasn’t a human.” Lucy finished. 

“And since we’re here with minimal weapons.”

One of the ghosts, a woman, came floating through a wall and turned to look at them. 

“Run?” you offered. 

“Run.” Lucy replied. 

Making a break for it, you all tried to outrun the ghost before another one of her friends joined her, pushing all four of you down a different corridor. 

“I’m Lucy, by the way.”

“Y/n. Nice to meet you.”

“You, too.”

By the time the sun was beginning to rise over the city, you all made it back to Portland Row where a fresh bruise had made its way to decorate Lockwood’s face. 

“You have a hell of a punch.” Lockwood said before prodding his own bruise in his reflection of the pan on the stove. 

You chuckled, pulling a bag of peas from the freezer before closing it and walking over. “Quit moaning. It could have been worse. Here.”

Standing, Lockwood seemed to have grown even taller than you. Taller than when you’d both last met. 

Looking at you, you watched as his eyes closed at the cold contact of the bag as you pressed it to his face. 

“Hold it there for a while. It should help with the swelling.”

“You know, we really need to stop meeting like this.”

You narrowed your gaze a little and clicked your tongue. “You’ve already used that line.”

“Have I?” Lockwood seemed to think for a moment before, “Oh, yeah. Suppose I have. But it is true.”

“Hey, the first time was an accident. I thought you were trying to-”

“The first time is an accident, three times is a pattern.”

You smiled sheepishly. “An accidental pattern.”

“Sure about that?”

“Yes.” you said before, “Maybe? Can never be too careful when hunting alone.”

Lockwood’s demeanour changed for a moment. “Alone? You’re hunting alone again?”

“Relax. I’m safe enough.” 

You moved backwards and began to tidy the kitchen a little to give yourself something to do whilst Lockwood leaned back against the kitchen counter, lowering the frozen bag from his face so he could watch you more closely. 

“Are you?”

“Yes, Lockwood. I’m fine. Honestly, you don’t have to worry about me.”

“Doesn’t mean I won’t.”

You held his gaze for a moment, a million thoughts running through your head until it landed on He’s just a friend…

From there, you shifted yourself from the kitchen table and placed the empty glasses in your hand in the sink beside him. 

“Move here.”

“What?”

Lockwood stood tall once more and turned to face you properly. “Move in here. Lucy got a deal when she bought her bed, so she’s got a second one spare. We can set it up on the other side of the loft. I don’t like the thought of you hunting alone.”

“Lockwood, I said I’m fine.”

“What happens if something happens to you? Look, I can put you on the payroll so it won’t be a favour. You’ll be working with us. And you’ll have a team behind you. You’ll also be safe. Please.”

“Lockwood-”

“Please.”

Looking up at him, you saw the desperation in his eyes. 

It wasn’t often he opened himself up or let himself show any kind of vulnerability but when he did…

“Okay. Fine. But you can’t hover over me.”

“I don’t hover.”

“You hover.”

“No I don’t.” 

“Why did George kick you out of the Archive room in the last case we were in together?”

Lockwood thought back and when he didn’t answer, you answered for him. 

“Because you hover.”

“Okay, maybe I hover a little.”

“But before anything is written, the others have to agree. Lucy, too.”

“She will. I know so. It’ll be nice for her to not be outnumbered.”

You moved in three days later.

Lucy had prepared the spare bed for you and even decorated the walls behind your bed with a couple of pictures she found in some old boxes that had yourself, George and Lockwood in them. 

“I didn’t know what you’d want to do, but I thought I would do something to help at least.”

“I love it.” you smiled, dropping one of the boxes onto your bed. “Thank you.”

Over the following week, yourself and Lucy got to know one another, sharing stories late into the night when researching cases and in desperate need of a break. 

Lucy came to learn what Lockwood meant by the punch when you all met not being the first time. You came to find out what brought Lucy to London. And you both came to discover that, with the right planning, you could both scare Lockwood and George. 

Only, one night, George and Lucy decided to tag team which also gave them a chance to talk about you and Lockwood. 

“Do they know? They have to know.”

“Don’t bother.” George sighed. “Three years and nothing has changed.”

“They’ve been like that for three years?”

George just nodded. 

“Seriously?”

“You know I walked into the kitchen yesterday and they were slow dancing in the kitchen and…it was like nothing happened.”

“Yeah…” 

“What?”

“What?” Lucy asked. 

“Your face. You have that…look.”

“What look?”

“The “I’m making a plan” face.”

“Maybe because I am.”

“Well then?”

“What if we tried?”

“I already have.”

“Maybe,” Lucy nodded. “But that was then. Now you’ve got me. Tag-team. What do you say?”

“Well, considering it would take an earthquake to wake them both up from whatever coma they’ve convinced themselves that they’re in…sure. Why not? But how.”

“I haven’t got that far into the plan yet.”

But it didn’t take too long. 

After six months of living with each other, the plan practically made itself. The chemistry between yourself and Lockwood was palpable and even more so when you were outside together. 

Like when you and Lockwood were in the library with George and Lucy where Lockwood was standing behind you, reading the section of paper you were pointing to, his arms caging you in from where you sat, when a group of Fittes Agents waltzed over. 

“You might want to give your girlfriend a little breathing room, Tony. After all, PDA can be off putting especially in such a public place.”

Standing, and not denying it, Lockwood practically burned Kipps a hole in the ground for him to fall through. 

“Relax, Tony. Just having a little fun. So, are you going to introduce me to your girlfriend?”

“I’m not his girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

Kipps couldn’t help but widen his smile. “You’re not. Well then, Tony.”

However, you were up like a shot standing beside Lockwood. “But I would be very careful in your next choice of words. He might not be my boyfriend but he is my friend.”

Closer up, Kipps seemed to recognise you. Or at least, that’s what his face told you. 

“You know, for all the people in the world, I wouldn't have considered one of the best rogue agents being best buddies with our very own Anthony Lockwood.”

“And why not?”

“Although, rogue is very fitting for Tony. After all, it was breaking the rules that got him into trouble in the first place. Sweetheart, if I were you, I’d walk away whilst you still can.”

The only thing anyone could remember was hearing the contact of your palm across Kipps’ cheek and the red mark left in its place. 

“Fuck you.”

It took a moment to get over the shock before Kipps and his team walked away and you relaxed a little before grabbing your jacket and telling the others you’d be back. 

“Are you-”

“I’m fine, Lockwood. I’ll be back in five.”

It was in those five minutes that one of Kipps’ team found you by the vending machine. 

“I’m sorry about what he said.”

“Why? You didn’t say it. And I’m guessing you’re assigned to be with him.”

“Still, I could have said something to stop him and I didn’t.”

“Something tells me even if you did, he still would have said it anyway.”

“Maybe.”

“What’s your name?”

“Victor.”

“Nice to meet you,Victor.”

Meanwhile, across the room and up a level, Lucy spotted you talking to Victor. Even laughing every once in a while. And when Lockwood joined her, she saw the pain in his eyes before a brick wall came up. 

“We should be getting ready. George found something. I’ll be back in a minute.”

For the rest of the day, Lockwood seemed closed up. Especially towards you. 

“What is your problem?” you eventually asked him. 

“Nothing.”

“Lockwood, I heard you snap at Lucy earlier.”

“She made a mistake.”

“Exactly,” you cut him off. “A mistake. And she’s never made one before.”

“One that could have put one of us in serious danger-”

“We were outside the perimeter.” You could have laughed, until Lockwood asked you a question you weren't expecting. 

“Do you like him?”

“Who?”

“The guy you were talking to earlier.”

“Kipps? You did see me slap him, didn’t you-”

“Not Kipps. Vinny. Or Vincent or…whatever his name is.”

You thought back for a moment. “Victor.”

Lockwood nodded. 

“Do I like him? What are we? 12?”

“Just answer the question.”

“Why?”

“Because I need to know if you’re fraternising with the enemy.”

You laughed. “Fraternizing?”

But when Lockwood didn’t change, you did. 

“You know what, fuck you, Lockwood. What I do with my time outside of work is no concern to you. You know what, do this yourself. I’ll go and help George.”

A few minutes later, Lucy walked inside the room to a very grumpy Lockwood. 

“What the hell did you do? Fraternising? This isn’t Bridgerton, Lockwood.”

“Will you just help with the set-up?”

Sighing, Lucy did as she was told, but not before telling Lockwood a couple things he desperately needed to hear. 

“You’re gonna lose her.”

“What?”

Picking up some of the iron chains and laying them down, Lucy explained. “It might not be Victor, but one day it will be someone. And it probably won’t be long before they come along and whisk her away from your grumpy arse because you’re too stubborn to tell her the truth.”

“What truth?”

“That you like her. Love her, even. If my gut feeling is right. And it usually is.”

“Lucy-”

“Look, you can go on being an arsehole because you’re scared. Or you can talk to her. All I’m saying is do something about it before somebody else does. Both me and George have seen the way you look at her. It’s more than you want to admit, Lockwood. But one day you’re going to have to, or else you are going to lose her and all you’ll have is a bruised eye and a broken nose once every couple of years, if that.”

Lucy didn’t say anything else after that but Lockwood did apologise for snapping at her earlier which she forgave him for after calling him a frustrating bastard. From then, she watched as you all completed the job together and that look that she often saw in Lockwood’s eyes, returned when he looked at you. 

Yet, by the time you had all gotten home, he still hadn't apologised to you. So, with a hard nudge from Lucy, Lockwood finally made his way to find you. 

“Do something before somebody else does, and that includes apologising. And she’s in the Library. Goodnight.”

Lockwood stood outside of the Library door for a while, trying his best to find the right words so he wouldn’t end up with a broken nose, despite how much he probably deserved one. 

You had lit the fire to try and cancel out the cold that had seeped in through a forgotten open window, and if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought it was midnight, not 6 in the morning. 

“Hey.”

Looking behind you, you tried your best not to roll your eyes at Lockwood as he walked inside. 

“I’m just looking over some old cases. Just so you know that I’m not fraternising with the enemy by reading a book.”

“I shouldn’t have said it like that.” Lockwood began. “I shouldn’t have said it at all. I just…I guess I panicked.”

“That’s a bullshit excuse and you know it.”

“You’re right. And I’m sorry.”

You looked at him.

“Really, really sorry. For the fraternising comment and the bullshit excuse.”

You took a minute and it was the longest minute of his life. 

“Okay, guess I can forgive you.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“I know, that’s why I forgave you. But a cup of tea wouldn’t hurt.”

Lockwood smiled. “Okay. One tea coming up.”

Only, as he walked away, you answered his question. 

“And I’m not…fraternising with the enemy. Victor and I were just talking. I think you’d like him. I think he might hate Kipps just as much as you do. And, no.” you shook your head. “I don’t like him. Just so you know…”

Lockwood nodded and for a moment, turned to walk away until Lucy’s words echoed again in his head. 

“Do something about it, before somebody else does.”

So he did. 

Sighing under his breath, he took the jump, turned around and reached for you. 

Taking your head in his hands, he cupped your jaw before bringing your lips to his. At first, it shocked you and for a split second, he thought he was about to get his nose broken for good this time. 

Until you kissed back. 

You felt yourself stumble a little but Lockwood caught you, holding you close to him before his forehead came to touch yours, your eyes still closed. 

“Wow.”

“I’m sorry but I just had to-”

You shook your head, “Don’t apologise.”

“No?”

You couldn’t help but smile. “No.”

“So you’re not going to break my nose.”

“Not this time,” you laughed a little. 

“Okay…then I’m gonna jump. I like you. Well, I more than like you. Like way, way more. And I…I want to do something about it before someone else does.”

“Like Victor?”

“Yeah,” Lockwood laughed a little. “Like Victor.”

“Then…good. I’m glad you finally jumped.”

“You are.”

You nodded. “I mean, you have terrible timing but yeah, I’m glad you jumped.”

“Good.”

“Good. Now, are you gonna kiss me again or am I gonna have to-”

Lockwood didn’t need telling twice. 

[sciroccoorion35]

Lockwood POV

I've seen some discussion about whether you could write the L&Co books from Lockwood's pov and how difficult that would be with his book characterisation, but I think I've got it!

The Very Secret Diary of A.J. Lockwood

The Screaming Staircase from Lockwood's POV Rating: T WC: 543

Day 1: Well, it’s official! George and I have started our own agency right out of 35 Portland Row. Lockwood and Co. at your service. The paperwork was a chore, but we’ve done it. Now to begin building our reputation. I have plans for attracting a high paying clientele with interest in the kind of personalised, bespoke care only a small, independent agency can provide.

Day 16: Inspector Barnes himself came by today to inspect our headquarters. He also gave me some warnings about the way we took out the ghost over on Bagley Walk, but we got it to the furnaces in the end, so I don’t see that it’s any big deal. Looking forward to showing this Barnes what we can accomplish without the need for adult supervision.

Day 72: George left his ghost jar in the bath again. Seriously considering writing up an official company policy that covers this. Or possibly just a renter’s agreement.

Day 117: Hired a new assistant. His name's Robin. I think he's gonna be great. Wow, this is really starting to feel like a proper agency!

Day 123: Robin ran off a roof in a blind panic. Not a great start tbh. I will need to do a much better job checking the next assistant's fortitude. Maybe George can help me come up with something...

Day 175: New hire Miss Lucy Carlyle! I really think we've got a good one this time. She's asked me to call her Lucy and it feels weird somehow with her for some reason. But I'll be damned if I'm going to call George 'Mr. Cubbins' so I will have to get used to it.

Day 346: Lucy has burned down a house. Granted, the Type 2 inside really whipped it up into a conflagration, and yes, I did forget to bring the chains, but still, there’s no denying it was her Greek fire that was the initial spark explosion.

Day 349: 60,000 pounds!?!? Bloody Barnes. He’s doing this on purpose. He wants us out of business and out of his hair. I’ve put on a brave face in front of George and Lucy but I don’t know how we can possibly get through this. 

Day 351: I have a plan. It’s a little risky, and I need to do as much preparation and snooping as I can manage to squeeze in, but if handled carefully, I think I can save the agency and even put us ahead of where we were before. If not, well, this might just be my last entry as A.J. Lockwood, head of Lockwood and Co.

Day 365: What a year it’s been! I forgot to update after the Combe Carey affair, but it was spectacular! I’ve got a bunch of press clippings I’ll stick in here for posterity, but the important thing is that the agency is right where it should be. Between me, George and especially Lucy, I really feel like there’s no case we can’t take on. Things are truly looking up!

Day 365, part 2: Lucy has just told me the most extraordinary thing. On second thought, maybe I shouldn’t write it down just yet. Wouldn’t want anyone to think…anyways, please disregard. Looking forward to a fruitful year 2!

[hollcwboy]

chapter 7 (now 8, since i deleted the author’s note) is up!!! go forth and enjoy!! a lil spoiler meme for you + chapter summary:

Lockwood and Lucy break into the catacombs to retrieve Rupert Gale’s mysterious artifact. It goes about as well as you’d expect.

[lockwoodandcobigbang2023]

Lockwood and Co Big Bang 2023!

We're excited to announce the first post-show Lockwood and Co Big Bang event!

A Big Bang teams up authors and artists to create new content for the fandom, and cheerleaders to help them along the way! Artists will create accompanying art for each fic, authors will write a fic of 5k words minimum (there are stages to this, more info to follow!) and cheerleaders will beta read and provide encouragement. We will also be accepting signups for reserve agents, who will be able to step in at the last minute should something happen and a team be left incomplete.

Signups will start on the 20th June and end on the 7th July, and we're looking forward to seeing what you all come up with!

The link for signups can be found here (but the form won't be open before the 20th), and if you want more information about the event our rules and schedule will be posted asap, and asks are open if you have any immediate questions!!

The posting date for all the works is pencilled in to start on the one year anniversary of the show, 27th January, 2024.

We're so excited to finally be able to share this announcement with you. Feel free to reblog it to spread the word!

Signed, L&Co Big Bang 2023 mods :))

[portlandrowismyhome]

Borrowed Time: Chapter One

A little fanfic I got suckered into writing by @the-biscuit-agreement ‘s incredible prompt. Huge thanks to @lemonsharks and @oceanspray5 ‘s additional ideas.

This is that Lockwood and co serial killer prompt…

Tag list (or interest list for those who showed interest in the prompt. If you aren’t interested in the fic no worries): (also my Lockwood friends in general): @neewtmas @givemea-dam-break @thedonutdeliverygirl @ikeasupremacy @wellgoslowly @edmundlockwood @narnianweirdos @tangledinlove @so-true-jestie @oblivious-idiot @paysomeonetopaysomeone @peachesanddandelions @myownpainintheass @sadwinistic @almostlikequake @saelterlude @fandomscraziness22 @everythingwillend @uku-lelevillain @atlabeth @carlyleons @smol-being-of-light @losticaruss @superpositvecloudshipper @totally-not-an-npc @paranorahjones @malteevars-kee-devi @teaandtoastandthyme @jesslockwood @krash-and-co @lucy-j-carlyle

Please note this is a sideblog and all replies will come from @waitingforthesunrise

This takes place four months after The Hollow Boy: Lucy is an independent agent who starts investigating the wrong case, and Lockwood has always been living on borrowed time…

Warnings: mild language, general pain, angst, suggested injury, death, car accident, hint at torture, threats, hurt/very little comfort (yet). I’m so sorry, guys…

“Miss Carlyle.” Inspector Barnes sighed, flipping over the newspapers strewn across his desk. “Trust me. This is a case to let go.”

“What cases do we let go, Inspector?” Lucy leaned forward. “We’re agents. Getting to the bottoms of things is what we do.”

“And DEPRAC’s job is to make sure that’s the only thing you go to the bottom of,” Barnes said. “Miss Caryle, you have almost no evidence. You have no team. You certainly have no proof. There’s nothing here, and frankly this will only cause you danger I’m unable to help you with.” 

“I didn’t ask for your help,” Lucy snapped. “You called me here.” 

Barnes rubbed a hand across his jaw. Lucy stared stubbornly at his desk. They were sitting in his office; well-lit, clean, and smelling strongly of chemical cleaner. Lucy clenched her jaw, determined not to lose the silent battle. She was so tired — Barnes had called her and left no choice but to return to his office immediately after work. And now she was sitting here in front of his desk, wasting time…she could be eating breakfast, or in a warm shower…the hot water cascading over her tired shoulders….

But the water was shut off due to a leak at her apartment, and there would be now arm breakfast or inviting smells awaiting her. Only crusty dishes and a sulking skull. 

It had been four months since Lucy had left Portland Row. 

Barnes cleared his throat. “Let me make sure I understand. You first took the case from a Miss Helen Younge, correct?”

Lucy nodded. Miss Younge had been young no longer when they had met; the whispery, frail old lady worked at the take-out shop where Lucy often bought doughnuts. Miss Younge often showed Lucy pictures of her cats, but that had been the extent of their interactions until the day the old woman had seized Lucy’s wrist over the cash register and whispered, you’re an agent, aren’t you? Oh, I’m in such trouble…

Barnes studied a notebook. “She offered to pay you?”

“Of course. I am an independent agent. But it was more…”

“A favor?”

Lucy nodded. “She’s an old woman working at a bakeshop, Inspector. She could never pay for a Fittes or Rotwell team.” She didn’t bother to hide the bitterness in her voice; who knew how many nights Miss Younge and others like her had spent, anxious and afraid of things they were unable to see, knowing an inspection alone would cost them precious food?

If Barnes noticed it, he didn’t let on. “Surely you didn’t inspect the property at night?” He squinted at the paper. “An apartment building, nonetheless.”

“Of course not. I did it in daylight. But…” Lucy hesitated. “I thought it would be just a weak Type One, an old person’s death or something, but…”

“Yes?”

“There was a strange whispering.”

“Miss Carlyle, you are a Listener, and sources do have a habit —“

“I found the Source, sir. It was just a simple Type One and gave almost no trouble. But I don’t think it’s the only ghost there. There’s something else, maybe more than just one.”

Lucy paused, remembering the sticky brush of a spiderweb against her face, the quick rush of cool air, the sudden suspension of time. 

“It says here,” Barnes said, “you ‘found yourself stuck in a time-loop.’ You have no idea when it could be from, or what it’s stemming from. You’re convinced it’s connected to the Type One, but that it’s not the cause.”

“Exactly.” Lucy eagerly leaned forward. “The voice, it kept saying the same thing, over and over—”

“— help me, I’m dying, he took care of you, so now you’ll kill me too,” Barnes finished in a bored tone. “Very concise for a ghost.”

Lucy brushed off his skepticism. “Of course there was more, that’s just what was clear — Inspector, this ghost was murdered. Maybe Miss Younge’s Type One, too.”

“Wouldn’t it have been a bit stronger, then?”

“Not if it was a miserable, elderly person living alone in an apartment complex with a cat and a bottle of pain pills. Those are a dime a dozen, Inspector. The person might not even know they were murdered. Not until it was too late.” 

Barnes groaned. “You have the Source, don’t you.”

“Not on me,” said Lucy. She did. It was in her knapsack, securely sealed in iro; a small, initialed pocketknife. 

“Miss Carlyle—”

Lucy hurriedly shuffled through her knapsack, and held out a stack of papers. “Look, Inspector, I found these in the library — it’s a murder case, I’m sure, I think this might lead to the victim, an unnamed body — the Source gets clearer every time I listen to it—”

“Miss Carlyle!” Barnes brought his hand down on the table. “I don’t have time for this. DEPRAC can’t keep you off the case, but consider this a warning. Whatever happens after this is on you. And —“

The door banged open. Lucy looked up to see an ashen-faced assistant gabbling into a hand-held receiver. 

“Sir!” The assistant said. “Sir, it’s urgent…there’s been an accident outside, a body…”

Barnes jumped to his feet and hurried out the door, and Lucy, after hesitating for a moment, followed. 

Clouds were gathering in the sky overhead; the air smelled like rain. A cool breeze tugged at Lucy’s hair as she hurried down the steps after Inspector Barnes and towards the knot of people gathered near the road. 

“They said it was a green van,” the assistant said. “Just barreled through and drove off…”

Voices rose excitedly from the gawking group. “Came right out of nowhere, he did…just slammed into the poor thing…never had a chance….” 

“DEPRAC Inspector!” Barnes roared. “Stand back!”

The crowd drew apart, and Lucy had a clear view of the blood streaked face staring empty-eyed at the sky. 

It was Miss Younge. 

There was a blur of ambulances and shouting and the passerby offering eager comments. Lucy couldn’t look away from the sightless eyes and crumpled cardigan of the old woman. Her head pounded; it couldn’t be real, couldn’t be happening. Miss Younge had given her a sandwich only that morning! The blood spattered across the pavement…

Barnes tried to steer her towards the steps, but she caught his sleeve. 

“Miss Carlyle —“

“Inspector.” Her voice was ragged even in her own ears. “Don’t you see? Don’t you understand? This is proof! She must have been coming here to tell me something, she must have found something out! She was murdered, I —“

“Lucy,” Barnes said gently. “There’s been an accident. I understand you’re distraught. Go home, get some sleep.”

“Don’t you get it? This isn’t an accident, this is murder!”

Barnes glanced at the crowd, the assistant waiting nervously, the flashing lights of the screeching ambulance. “This was an accident, Miss Caryle. You’re conjecturing —“

“No!” Lucy stumbled back. “No, it wasn’t.”

An official approached, holding a clipboard. “Inspector, if you’d step this way…”

Barnes looks down at the paper, and when he looked up, Lucy Caryle was gone. 

He swore under his breath. 

Lucy paused in front of Miss Younge’s apartment building, breathless. She had run all the way from DEPRAC headquarters, rapier digging mercilessly into her hip, stopping only at her apartment to retrieve the skull. Lucy would rather have died on a bed of hot coals than admit it out loud, but she felt safer with it at her side. She bent over, gasping. 

The skull groaned from inside her knapsack. “You know, I said that all that greasy food would slow you down. But did you listen? No, of course not. Why listen to your friends? Oh wait…” It cackled. “You only have one!”

“Shut up,” Lucy said abruptly. She was digging in her pockets for the key Miss Younge had given her. The key she had been going to return today….

But there was no time for that. She needed to focus, keep her mind clear. Find any clues before DEPRAC took over. She bounded up the stairs, skull complaining loudly in her ear. Hurry, hurry, hurry…

The door was unlocked. 

Lucy tapped it hesitantly and it creaked slowly open. 

“Put me down!” The skull complained. “I can’t see a thing!”

Lucy slid the jar out of the bag and set it in the corner. The room was dark and musty; a few half-empty bookshelves,  a stained quilt covered the sagging bed…and that strange muttering whisper in her ear sending shivers up her skin…

Something warm and furry brushed against her leg and she almost jumped out of her skin. 

“Skull! You could have warned me.”

“Oh, because that’s my job now? You haven’t even apologized for this morning, and you expect me to hand out my exceptional services for free? Besides, it’s only a cat.” 

The orange cat meowed hesitantly, and Lucy bent down to brush its back. 

“God, no,” the skull said. “Lucy…I see what you’re thinking, Lucy, and the answer is no!”

“We have to take it.” Lucy straightened up and began to examine the dusty bookshelves. “Miss Younge won’t be coming back.” 

“It’s a cat. Cats live like the little demons they are. ARGH! It’s coming closer, Lucy, make it stop, it’s so ugly…”

A sharp riiiing cut through the skull’s moans. Lucy jumped, glancing at the phone. Just a call. Probably some elderly friend, looking for a chat. And she’d have to tell them…

She picked up the receiver. “Hello, I—“

“Hello, Lucy Carlyle.” The voice was smooth; slippery, sharp, and entirely unfamiliar. “I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you. Might I add how beautiful you look this morning?”

Lucy froze. “Who is this?”

“A businessman. Looking for a deal.”

Lucy shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. “I’m sorry, but this isn’t my number.”

“Oh, no. It’s your location. But why leave a message when I can reach you like this? I knew you’d come for the cat, anyway.”

The sounds of the skull arguing faded away. “What did you say?”

“Look, darling. You’ve had a good run. A good case. Why, if you go home now, you’ll even find a little payment on the doorstep.”

“A payment for what?”

“Dropping the case, of course.” The voice was like silk. “And never speaking about it to DEPRAC again. We wouldn’t want to bother our silly little head about it, would we?”

“I’m not dropping the case!”

“Oh?”

Lucy scrambled for time, a cold weight in the pit of her stomach. “So you know something? Miss Younge was murdered?”

“Oh, Miss Younge.” The man made a disgusted noise. “She was small and unimportant.”

“The Type One, then?”

“No, my dear. This is about Lockwood.” 

Four months. Four months. And her world still reeled at the sound of his name. 

Lucy swallowed. “What does Lockwood have to do with this?”

“What doesn’t he have to do with this is a better question. Everything about you traces back to him eventually, doesn’t it? But it’s simple: you bury the case or I bury the boy. After I’ve had some fun, of course…And come on, Lucy. We both know catching him wouldn’t be the hard part.”

“I—”

“You need to drop this while I still have the restraint for it. Think how hard it will be for me to stop after I’ve heard him beg like you have. The boy’s practically screaming for someone to end his misery already, and trust me — when I’m done, he will be. And I’m sure you saw that last case put him in the hospital for three days…No, our Locky’s been looking for death a long time…”

Lucy’s ears were ringing, her nose full of the heavy must of dust and cat. “I—“

“Good day, darling,” the voice said, and hung up. 

Lucy clenched the receiver, staring at the faded wallpaper. Her knees were shaking. God, he was right. That hospital visit. A broken leg. She had scanned the papers every day for news of Lockwood, hoping she wouldn’t find a death announcement, hating herself for it every time…

The skull was making horrific faces at the cat, which was inching closer. The skull yelped as Lucy swept it into the bag and bundled the cat in her arms. 

“What kind of treatment is this, huh? And we’re going home, I hope…”

“We’re going to find Lockwood,” Lucy said briefly. “Before it’s too late.” 

Lucy didn’t bother with the bell or the iron line. She threw herself at the door, hammering at the wood, a horrific panic clutching her heart. The voice had seemed so sure, so certain. She had imagined her re-entry to Portland Row many times; in one particularly gratifying scenario, Lockwood had been on his knees begging her, the hugely successful businesswomen, to save his beloved house. And now it was her begging for entry…she kicked the thoughts aside and hit the door with her foot. 

The door swung open unexpectedly and she fell into the dark hallway. George was staring at her, eyes round from behind his glasses, a rapier in his hand. 

“Lucy?” He said blankly. 

“George,” Lucy gasped, the cat leaping from her arms. She brushed her hair back with a sweaty palm. “Is Lockwood here? Hurry, please, I need to see him!!”

Holly appeared over George’s shoulder, wrapped in an elegant coat. “Oh, it’s Lucy! And she’s brought us a cat!”

“Please!” Lucy pushed past them towards the library. “Where is he? Lockwood!”

“Oh, Lucy,” Holly whispered. 

Lucy paused, the quiet house settling over her like a heavy weight. For the first time she noticed George and Holly’s coats and hats, rapiers strapped to their waists. 

“We were just going to find you,” said Holly. 

Lucy swallowed. “I..”

George heaved a sigh. “Lucy, Lockwood’s been missing for two days.”

The world was spinning again. 

Lucy felt a hand on her elbow, and Holly guided her into a chair. “Hurry, George, put on some tea, she’s probably frozen…oh, I’m so sorry…”

George made a disgruntled noise. “She still hasn’t said what she’s doing here.”

“I got a phone call,” Lucy said numbly. “About Lockwood. There’s this case — it was a warning, and I …Oh, my word.”

Holly set down a mug. “We were just going to look for you. We thought, maybe…”

“He wasn’t with me,” Lucy said. 

They all jumped at the shrill ring of the phone. The sound sliced through Lucy with a cold recognition. She rose. 

“I’m alright, Holly, really. I — I need to answer that call.”

“You don’t even work here!” George said, following her into the hall. “It’s not your job!”

“You never answered them even when it was your job,” she shot back. “And this one will be for me.” 

The receiver was cool in her hands. She stared at the dark bookshelves, breathing in the familiar smell of Portland Row. “Hello?”

Silence. 

Hope filled her. Maybe it was just a wrong number — a grocery order —

“Hello, darling,” the voice said, a soft chuckle hiding in it’s voice. “What a pleasure to hear your voice again.”

“Wish I could say the same for you.”

“My, my. Sass this early in the day? Did your little pals miss you?”

She gripped the receiver. “Where is he?”

“Where is he? But you’ve guessed that, haven’t you, Lucy Caryle? Best Listener in London. Head like that on your shoulders. You know where he is.” 

“I swear if you’ve hurt him,” she whispered. “It will be the last thing you ever do, do you hear me? I swear—“

“Oh, Lucy,” the voice crooned. “If I hurt him? You should be begging me for a little mercy.” He sighed. “What would you have guessed? DEPRAC arrived at the apartment only five minutes after you and started a Source sweep with a double team. Your Mister Barnes trusted you a little more than you thought. But that’s besides the point…”

“I don’t know you have him,” Lucy said. Geroge’s worried face loomed in her vision, Holly right behind him, hands clasped under her chin. “You could be lying.”

“I could.” The voice hummed lightly. “How would you like me to prove it to you? His voice saying your name? A handkerchief?”

Her stomach clenched. “A recording. A piece of fabric. Could have gotten them anywhere.”

“True,” it mused. “What about a finger? You’ve stared at his hands enough; you’d know them anywhere, wouldn’t you?”

“I—“

“Or his ring? The one you thought you might wear on your finger one day.” It chuckled. “Still time for that. At his funeral, maybe —“ 

“Where is he,” Lucy spat into the phone. “Where is he, you stupid bastard!?”

“Now, now,” the voice tsked. “I’m not cruel. Why don’t I just put him on the phone? Be a good girl and listen to his demands, now.”  

Lucy’s stomach dropped at the familiar voice over the phone. 

“Luce,” Lockwood said warmly. “It’s been a while!”

“My word, Lockwood,” she said faintly. It was him, really him; his voice and his nickname for her… “What are you doing?” 

“A spot of business. Quite nice, really.” 

She could hear the rough edges in his voice now, the little gasps on the end of his sentences, like the air was whistling through his lungs. 

“Lockwood,I—”

“It’s so good to hear your voice again, Luce; you have no idea. Wish you could have popped round for some tea the other day, though. George made your favorite.”

“Lockwood!”

His voice was weary when he spoke again. “Yes, Luce?”

She turned away from the others. “What’s going on, Lockwood? They couldn’t find you — I was so worried — where are you? Where do I need to go? I’ll come and I’ll —“

“Not to worry,” Lockwood said cheerfully, but it sounded forced, as though he was saying it through clenched teeth. “I’ve got it all handled, Luce. Everything’s under control. You’re not running yourself to the ground over me, are you, Luce?  Get some rest and take care, you hear me? And stay at Portland Row as long as you like. Oh, and tell Holly that I broke one of her pink teacups the other day. She can order a new set. My apologies.”

Lucy’s gaze rose to meet Holly’s horrified eyes. “Lockwood!” She spat, trying desperately to keep the panic from her voice. “Tell me where you are, I swear — dear God, Lockwood, this isn’t a joke—”

“Isn’t it? That reminds me: I heard a particularly good one the other day, I made a note to tell you…” Lockwood hissed sharply. “Ah. Oh, that’s better.” There was a sliding sound. “Just needed to sit down.”

“You’re hurt, aren’t you?” Lucy knew she was babbling. “Lockwood, please, please—”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s okay, Luce.” Lockwood’s voice was perfectly calm, with only a slight tremor to remind her they weren’t sitting across from each other at the breakfast table. “I promise.”

“No!” She gasped for breath. “No, you swore you would never lie to me again, Lockwood — you swore—”

“Lucy!” Lockwood chuckled, but inhaled sharply as though it pained him. “I’m taking care of a brief issue. It’s business as usual.”

“No, Lockwood, it’s not! Just tell me, please, please—”

“I’ve spent my life feeling like a weapon,” Lockwood said quietly, his voice echoing over the phone. “Always living on borrowed time. I never could tell if the weapon was pointed at myself or at others. But I’ll make damn sure it isn’t pointed at you.”

A ragged sob caught in Lucy’s throat. It wasn’t real. She’d wake up tomorrow, in her own bed, and Lockwood would still be an annoying prick who lived nearby, and she would have a chance to fix everything. It couldn’t end like this.

And here she was, already acting as though it was the end. 

“No,” she whispered into the phone, her voice growing louder. “No! NO.  DAMN YOU, LOCKWOOD, YOU ANNOYING BASTARD — JUST TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE, YOU’RE NOT GOING TO DIE, I WON’T LET YOU, I—“

“Listen to me, Lucy,” Lockwood said, his voice suddenly urgent. She broke off, sobbing for breath. His voice was quick and direct, like they were on a case together. “Take the Source. Listen exactly to what it says, and then tell Barnes. Okay? And then take it to the furnaces and burn it. Understood? You’ll be alright. Everything’s under control.” 

“No,I—”

“One last thing,” said Lockwood, his voice shaking just a little. “Luce, I needed to say…there���s not much time, but I lov—”

There was a sharp beep, and the line went dead. 

~ To be continued ~

[hurtcomfortficstilltheend]

In the Name of a Cosy Christmas

Lockwood & Co (books) fluff

Summary: After everything, what more could be asked for, than a warm cosy Christmas?

Warnings: none, just fluff. Spoilers for The Empty Grave.

A/N: This was written for a Secret Santa event on one of the L&C discord servers! To read in Ao3, click here.

word count: 1070

A few months after the break in, after the Other Side, and Fittes, and all the shit that went down with it, gradually normality seeps back into Lockwood and Co’s headquarters. The new shelves fill up with new trinkets, the walls get repapered and Lucy makes the effort to make and hang up polaroid collages on the first floor. The house goes from cozy to destroyed to pristine to lived on again. 

Lockwood feels lighter than he ever has, redecorating his home gives him a chance to project and think of a life of his own. He tears up at the paint store when the employee asks him what colour he wants, so Lucy steps up and picks a few cans, ignoring the guy’s questioning looks. 

With time cases started to come, and routine set in again. Despite the dismantling of the Fittes conspiracy, the arrival of autumn spikes the number of ghost sightings and hauntings, as would be expected, and Lockwood and Co rises to the occasion.

Holly still tags along in the field, but her demeanor is more cautious, if it is even possible. She checks and re-checks the bags before going out, and packs twice the standard amount of salt bombs in her duffel bag and magnesium flares in her belt. One random day in October, she shows up with her white strand dyed black to blend in with the rest of her hair. No one makes a comment or snarky remark.

She doesn’t stay for lunch as often, and Lucy thinks it’s her way of putting some distance between herself and the agency, but later finds out Holly and her roommate started going on dates and spending more time together. The only piece of information she can make her spit out is the DEPRAC agent’s name, Scarlett.

George makes a full recovery, and keeps making up theories and investigating about the Problem and its imminent end. A curious little relationship forms between him and Flo. It’s odd to see her every other day around Portland Row, in such a domestic setting, but she is welcomed by everyone, even with her muddy boots that mess up the carpet more often than not (Holly does offer to buy her some slippers).

Kipps spends a month bottled up in his apartment, recovering and thinking of his next steps. He gets in touch with his family, and his sister helps him through it all. He marvels at the idea of studying to become a school teacher to young agents in the future.

-

Distant fireworks announce the start of Christmas Day. The table is messy with different snacks, tea, champagne and what remains of dinner. Mismatched glasses with different beverages are raised and clinked. 

Lockwood stands up and hugs Lucy, a chain reaction of ‘Merry Christmas’ and kisses on cheeks follow. Everyone is cheerful, and for a moment it’s like nothing bad has ever happened, and they are just a normal group of friends that call each other family. 

“I haven’t showered since last year,” exclaims George, looking very proud of his joke. Lucy rolls her eyes, but then her expression turns into a smirk. He freezes. “Wait, that’s not today.”

Holly lets out a bark of laughter no one has heard from her before, and quickly covers her mouth to hide it. That triggers a round of giggles and Holly joins in, feeling self conscious, but accepting her fate. Scarlett hugs her from the side and pecks her cheek as if to cool off the flush (it has the opposite effect, of course).

Kipps takes a sip of champagne and steps to the side to open the freshly painted and decorated back door, snow glistening under the moonlight and the occasional pyrotechnics. A cold current of air meets his cheeks and brings with it memories of the Other Side. He looks back at the table, and closes the door. 

“Shall we move to the living room?” Exclaims Lockwood, excited to show off the gifts he bought for everyone (they are matching sweaters that he will make them wear for the rest of Winter).

-

It’s four in the morning. The fireplace is being guarded by a sleepy Lucy, who keeps the fire going for the sake of Quill. He complained a couple of times about freezing to death if he slept on the couch with such a fimble blanket, the implications of such comment perturbed her a bit, so she agreed to be the one in charge of it.

Holly and Scarlett claimed the guest bedroom and moved there half an hour after Holly passed out on Scarlett’s lap. She kept playing card games with Kipps and Flo, but excused herself and picked Holly up when she started to stir and gently pull on her long auburn hair. 

George is asleep on the other couch, his legs in Flo’s lap. She is drinking sugary coffee while she reads a book and fiddling with the quilt that covers them.

Lockwood approaches the fire and sits next to Lucy, balancing a tray with tea and some leftover dessert. She’s focused on the small flames, sitting cross legged, but looks over and returns a small smile when it’s offered to her. Lockwood passes a cup to her and takes one of his own.

“This is the best Christmas I’ve ever had,” she whispers, looking back at their friends. She cut her hair last week and it frames her cheeks so perfectly. One of the white strands is a part of her curtain bangs now. She takes a sip of her tea and looks directly at Lockwoods eyes. “I still can’t believe we made it out.”

“Yeah…” He sighs, then a vulnerable smile replaces his shining one. “I’m so thankful we get to be here, all of us.” 

Lucy glances at the skull on the shelf. It has been adorned with fairy lights and a scarf ‘just in case he feels cold’, according to George. It has made its fair share of wispy half-apparitions since the explosion, but it’s okay. She knows wherever he is, he must be so pissed about the lights, and it does bring some comfort to her.

And so, on one of the longest nights of the year, they slump into each other in the warm glow of the fire, and eat cake until they feel slightly sick. 

-

They wake up at midday, on the floor, with cramped muscles and necks, but covered by a certain quilt that Florence insists on knowing nothing about. 

.

.

.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed! See? I can write non-selfinserts, haha (i fought tooth and nail to keep the second person away lmao). Felices fiestas, and i hope you start 2025 with the right foot!

Masterlist

[krash-and-co]

OK KERMIT VS KIPPS FICLET

I am so sorry (not really) idk what happened to me (I have always been insane)

as usual vote kipps in @favcharacterpoll !!!

fic under cut. and yes, the title is from being green. mwah

it seems you blend in (with so many other ordinary things)

Quill’s boots scraped under his feet at his slow trek across rough cement. It was dark, it was cold, it was long past curfew and fear sent icy nails scraping the back of his neck. Specters longed for his life force, longed for the rush of a living soul.

But they weren’t the only thing to fear tonight.

He didn’t know why he agreed to come out. Anybody with half a mind would have just stayed home, but Kipps was prideful. Kipps was too prideful. So of course he’d agreed to meet up tonight, despite better judgement and care for his own life.

And it was too late now to go back.

He tightened his grip on his rapier and carried on walking.

The trip to the alley was short and definitely not sweet, more incriminating than anything-- bad shit happens in a back alley most times. You find bodies there. Kipps didn't want to be one of them, but it wasn't looking too likely he wouldn't see his nose to the floor at least once. At least he had the sense to bring his goggles so he wasn't dead before even arriving.

Scratch, tap. Scratch, tap.

His footsteps came to a stop.

He took in his surroundings on instinct.

Around him was garbage, which wasn't a huge surprise. In between him were two brick walls, seeming ever so close to squeezing in on him (perhaps his imagination?) but a surprising lack of ghosts at all. But he still didn't feel alone. Kipps pressed his goggles harder on his face, as if that would help at all.

Nothing.

Somehow that was even more unsettling.

"What have you done?" Kipps called into the night, although no one was nearby. "And how? You know, my team could use someone wh-- oof!"

Something had kicked his stomach. He keeled over.

"Show yourself!" he wheezed. Stumbling to his feet, Quill waved his rapier aimlessly.

As if he was back where he was last year.

As if he was back being blind to the threats of the world.

Damnit, he was better than that. Not much, but--

A flash of movement.

Kipps stabbed.

A clang of metal.

Kipps lunged.

A shove to his back.

Kipps swung around. He felt cloth in his fingers, fuzzy like felt, and squeezed so it couldn't escape. "Gotcha," he smirked, which lasted all of two seconds.

The cloth in his hands was gone before he could register.

"Who are you!?" Kipps yelled. "We're ending this now, damnit!"

You are, maybe, came a voice from above.

No, left. No, right. No, below? Kipps swung his rapier in every one of those directions at least twice.

"You are, maybe," he repeated mockingly under his breath. "Shut the fuck up." Which was kind of bold for someone five foot one with his only weapon pointed at a brick wall.

Are you afraid? the voice asked laughingly.

"Me? no," Kipps replied, afraid. "You, however--"

A clatter behind him. A grip on his shoulder. A manly scream.*

Hi ho, called a whisper from everywhere all at once. Kermit the frog here.

*(author's note: male toddlers are still male, it counts.)

[worldofkaeos]

WARNING: Spoilers for the whole series!!!

It’s funny to think that sometime after the fall of the Fittes House, I started to believe that the Problem was no longer causing so much suffering to the world anymore. But it is times like these, when death resurfaces and slaps you in the face, hard, that really grounds you to reality. Every day, the Problem robs the lives of innocent children who are just doing their best to protect others. Countless lives lost, the terror and sorrow it would cause to families and friends. Sacrifices. It was always going to be this way.

A day before Halloween, Lockwood and Co. is suddenly tasked with one of the most arduous and dangerous cases they have ever encountered.

A group of missing agents, an ancient tale of a peculiar girl, and a sudden outbreak of supernatural Visitors in the midst of order, when things seemed to have already calmed down.

The stakes are sky-high; will they succeed in their quest and save these agents? Above all: will they make it out alive?

-----

(set after the events of the Empty Grave)

there'll be lots of locklyle and interactions with the gang, and a halloween party at the end :D

This is my first fic ever, hope you enjoy it!!

[drewstarky]

Detecting The Haunted

Pairing : Anthony Lockwood x Fem!Ex-detective!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, death, blood, gore, basically things that are in the Lockwood and co series (individual chapters will have more specific warnings)

Summary: Y/n a now ex-detective, had always been warned by her father never to become an agent. But in desperate times and having to take desperate measures, Lockwood and co convinces her to stay due to them seemingly being her only current option, even though she has to live with the one and only, Anthony bloody Lockwood who she can't seem to get past loathing.

Main Masterlist

Chapters

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

chapter four

[locklylemybeloved]

guys please send me locklyle fic recs im actually parched and like need some nourishment PLEASE 🙏

[mistandshcdow]

Lockwood was at the foot of the stairs where he had first met Lucy, the sound of the Thames lapping darkly against the foundations of the warehouse echoing around him. He climbed up, spotting the abandoned boot that Lucy had threatened him with, lying on its side on the dusty floor. He stepped over it and walked to the empty window, a large open hole in the old brick, a portal through which one could easily step–or plunge–into the water below. Lockwood sat down, his legs dangling over the side. There was no real view, just the river and the low lights of the warehouse district, reflecting weak stars onto the surface of the Thames, moving slightly with the water. The night air kissed his face, and he closed his eyes. For a moment, Lockwood could have been anywhere. 

But he was here, and that angered him to no end, because there was no reason for it. By all laws of the universe, by every fable and roll of the cosmic dice, Lockwood should be dead. His family was dead. He should have been killed by a ghost, or one kick to the head by Julius Winkman’s steel-toed boot, or the Thames itself, stretching innocently beneath his feet. It wouldn’t be the first time Lockwood had lingered at the edge, staring into the void, and watching it stare back up into him. Looking at darkness like that was hard to come back from. He was still here, sure, but he didn’t know if he had come back.

some dogs think their name is no chapter 7 "eternal grudge/love forever" (releasing october 8!)

[monsterbananatv]

WIP game asks! Oh wow it was difficult to pick two. Never beating the big brother allegations and Lucy??? What're you doing here??? please!

Those are both of my Kipps fics!

Never beating the big brother allegations is technically just a title rn but it was going to be a 5+1 of some sort but as I was typing this I think I came up with a better idea. What if I made it the title of the series and have the series just be fics about Kipps being the reluctant big brother we know he is. I have a few ideas for different things… the chances of me writing them all and finishing is slim but there’s a chance because I really want to use this name lol. We shall see what becomes of it.

Lucy??? What’re you doing here??? is my after Lucy leaves l&co where does she go fic. Cause like her leaving is rather abrupt and honestly how quickly do we think she would she be able to find her apartment so where would she go for a little bit? Yup, Kipps’s. She shows up at his flat with nowhere else to go and he helps her out like the big brother he is. I don’t have much currently cause I got derailed trying to figure out how she would know his address but my goal is getting it done before Kipps appreciation weekend lol.

Here’s a snippet for you:

When Quill Kipps opened the door of his apartment late one bleary winter night, the last person he expected to see was one Lucy Carlyle, teary eyed and carrying everything she owned.

“Carlyle?” He thought maybe he was imagining her. He rubbed at his eyes but she remained standing there. “Why are you here?”

She avoided his eyes, staring down at her boots. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

Thank you for the ask! I appreciate it ❤️

[sciroccoorion35]

Chapter 3 - Lockwood crashes the Fittes Masquerade

Raiting: M, Words: 10,786 and counting

Snippet under the cut <3

He was just wondering if he ought to say something when she turned her head, glancing about the room, and their eyes connected.

“Lockwood!” she said, clearly startled. “I didn’t realize you were invited to—”

Lockwood stepped forward quickly, putting a finger up to his lips and she cut off. He glanced around, but no one seemed to be paying them any attention.

“I wouldn’t say I was invited in the strictest sense,” he said in a low voice, meant just for her ears.

Her eyes, already as large and round as a doe’s, became impossibly rounder. “Oh.”

“I would take it as a great favor if you promised not to tell your cousin that I’m here,” he added, realizing as soon as he said it that talking to her had been a terrible idea.

“Oh really?” Beneath her mask, her expression turned considering. “And what do I get if I keep your secret?”

“What could a poor, political science and anthropology double major like myself hope to offer you?” he asked theatrically, placing a hand on his heart. “Oh, I know!” he said, dropping the dramatics. “How about something to drink that doesn’t taste like wine flavored seltzer?”

She snorted, looking down at her neglected food and drink. “I don’t suppose you could rustle up something more normal to eat as well?” she asked. “Like cheezies or chips?”

“Fear not, good lady. I shall not fail in this quest! Although you’ll have to explain what cheezies are, is that like cheez-its?”

This was also a terrible idea, but seeing the laughter dancing in her eyes instantly made it well worth the risk.

[hollcwboy]

a little ‘some dogs’ teaser for you, the new chapter will be up on tuesday!! + introducing my new side blog for exclusively l&co! i will still be posting about them on main @mistandshcdow but this page will be dedicated to l&co and the fics i write for it! welcome <3 ⚔️🩹⚰️

[lockwoodandcobigbang2023]

Sign Ups Are Open!

Signups are open for the 2023 Lockwood and Co Big Bang! These signups are for writers, artists, cheerleaders and reserve agents!

Feel free to sign up as many times as you want, just don't take on more than you can handle! Each role is a commitment, and your eventual teammates won't want you overworking yourself. If you want to sign up more than once, fill out the form again.

Rules can be found on the form, but a separate post will be up shortly! If you want a refresher on what the roles involve, read under the cut :)

For Writers

There are three types of bangs for this event: teeny bangs, mini bangs, and big bangs.

Teeny bangs: fics between 5–10k words.

Mini bangs: fics between 10–20k words.

Big bangs: fics 20k+ words.

The minimum word count for this event is 5k (5,000) words. If you find yourself over or under the word count you signed up for, this is okay, just please communicate with the event mods.

The rules are on the form and will be posted separately, but a brief run down (feel free to send an ask if you want more details):

No explicit (E-rated), RPF or incest fics allowed.

There are no limits on ships (besides what is stated above), genres, tropes, or universes.

No plagiarism will be tolerated.

Works must be labelled and trigger-tagged appropriately.

Works must be posted to AO3.

Fics submitted must be new to the public! The occasional preview/snippet is okay, provided it is after the teams have been announced, but they must not have been posted anywhere prior to or during the event.

Good luck!

For Artists

As you know, there are three types of bangs. For all fics under 20k words (i.e. teeny and mini bangs) you must create at least one piece of art. For big bangs (20k+ words) you must create two pieces of art.

This can be in any medium you deem fit, but unfortunately we are not accepting playlists as official artworks. Don't let this stop you from including them as additions if you want to though! Examples of appropriate art includes hand drawn/digital art, gifts, mood boards, video edits etc.

Remaining info:

Art must be relevant to the associated fic.

White-washing and orange-washing will not be tolerated.

Art must not be posted anywhere before posting dates, beyond hints/snippets. It must be new to the public!

We can't wait to see what you come up with!

For Cheerleaders

Your role is arguably the most important! It is your job to motivate and help your writer, whether that is by beta reading or simply providing encouragement! Don't be afraid to support your artist too, you're the only person they can fully share the art with (aside from their writer) before the posting day!

Brief rules:

Respect your writer and artist.

Do not share your writer's or author's work.

Please keep an open communication with your writer and artist! If for any reason you can't continue your role, please let them and the mods know as soon as possible.

Be encouraging!

We hope you're as excited as we are!

For Reserve Agents

You're the ones that have to be ready to step in at a moment's notice! (You'll probably have a fair bit of notice since this is a long event, but still.) Reserve Agents are on hold in the event that another writer or artist drops out of the event, so they can take their place in a team!

Don't worry, if you're called to action you won't have to do as much as someone who had initially signed up. As an agent reserve you:

only need to write half of the required words for a bang if you're a writer (2.5k for a teeny, 5k for a mini, 10k for a big).

will be accommodated by a later poster date if necessary if you're an artist.

That's all for now. We can't wait to kick this off!

Signed, L&Co Big Bang 2023 mods :))