#lockwood can’t drive

[yua-o]

lockwood:this is so embarrassing why are people staring at me

george:???

lucy: we got in a car crash lol

[scarletslippers]

The reunion in The Creeping Shadow, except when Lucy opens up her door it’s Lockwood singing Taylor Swift’s How You Get the Girl.

Kipps is behind him with a boombox on his shoulder, George is half-assing backup choreography and lamenting every life choice that led him to this moment, the skull is making fun of the whole thing. Lucy’s bewildered neighbors emerge to retrieve their laundry before shaking their heads and retreating into their apartments.

Lockwood is wearing his sunglasses and using a magnesium flare as a mic.

[lewkwoodnco]

Masterlist

All works written in third person fem!reader

➳ timeless ♡✧✿ 900 w 🖋️

you see your relationship with lockwood reflected in an antiques’ shop and realise you might be more than friends

➳ cruel summer (part 1, part 2) ♡✧✿ 3.2k

you agonise over the push and pull between you and lockwood as you navigate ordinary cases and the Fittes ball together

➳ august (tsitp version) ✶ 1.3k 🖋️💙

haunted by a Changer’s terrible prophecy, you make the difficult decision to leave Lockwood & Co.

➳ the alcott ✶✿ 1.8k 🖋️

after having left Lockwood & Co., lockwood finds you at an old haunt and persuades you to return by mending the rift between you two. can be read as a sequel to august (tsitp version)

➳ I Can See Youᶻ♡✧✿☆ 5.9k 💌

(enemies to lovers, Fittes!reader) as a rival agent at Fittes, you loathe the smug bastard that is anthony lockwood. or love him. one of the two.

➳ and I hope it gets to you on some Pacific wind✶ 6.3k

after getting laid off from Fittes, you struggle to find another job and struggle even more with accepting lockwood’s affection. can be read as a sequel to I Can See You

➳ You Belong With Me ♡✧✿ 2.4k 💌

you stumble along in your relationship with lockwood until he realises no one else is going to feel like home the way you do

➳ False God ✶✿ 4k 💌💙

the tension bubbling between you and lockwood finally pushes you to a breaking point as you leave Lockwood & Co., but someone helps you find your way back home

➳ Question…? ��✿ 4.8k 💌

you deeply resent your ex-employer after a miscommunication on why he fired you, but the both of you can’t help but terribly miss the other

➳ Dressᶻ✧✿ 3.5k 💌

after a spur of the moment kiss when you nearly die on a case, you and Lockwood struggle with staying content as friends

➳ You Are In Love ♡✧✿ 2.4k 💌

bit by bit, you realise your love for lockwood over the course of a case

➳ Gold Rush ♡✧✿ 2.8k 💌

(friends to lovers) you find your employer utterly deplorable, but can’t help being drawn in by his wayward ways

➳ Safe and Sound ✶✿ 2k 💌

(hurt/comfort) you help Lockwood through a nightmare

➳ get him BACK! ♡✧✿ 5.4k 💙

(slight enemies to lovers, Fittes!reader) you hated Lockwood for being such an aggravating personality, and now you hate him even more for proving you wrong

➳ London Boy ♡✿ 3.1k 💌

(european!reader) anthony lockwood finds his newest employee’s accent terribly adorable

➳ How You Get the Girl ✶✿ 4.8k 💌💙

an unresolved fight with lockwood pushes you to leave Lockwood & Co., as you’re convinced he’d be better off with lucy, but he doesn’t give up on you

➳ Invisible String ♡✿ 5.4k 💌

(neighbour!reader, estranged friends to lovers) as an old friend, you start becoming more involved in lockwood’s life again with the arrival of lucy carlyle

➳ only love can hurt like this ✶✿ 4.7k 💌💙

your boyfriend risks his neck for you one too many times. loving anthony lockwood was anything but easy

➳ buy me presents! ♡☆ 2.6k ❄️💙

[jealous!lockwood, gift giving (lockwood’s version)] spending christmas alone at Portland Row is terribly boring, so you decide to tease your somewhat possessive employer

➳ I got options, babe ♡✧✿ 2.6k ❄️❣️

(sequel to buy me presents!) it’s a Portland Row Christmas ft. slightly jealous reader

➳ tis the damn season ✶ 5.1k ❄️💙

after going away to boarding school, you visit lockwood for the first time in years but he doesn’t seem ready to forgive you

➳ I take you like you do your tea, with lemon and with honey ♡✧ 720 w 🖋️💙

(first person!reader) it is both a blessing and a curse to love so deeply

➳ Falling For You ♡✿☆ 2.6k ❣️

it’s Valentine’s Day, love is in the air, and you make a dangerous bet with lockwood over who was a better connoisseur of pick-up lines

➳ so american! ♡✿ 3.3k 💙

(american!reader, domestic sweetness) lockwood tries to teach you how to drive in a day in the life of Portland Row’s most nauseating couple

➳ but daddy, I love him! ♡✧✿ 3.8k

(socialite!reader) bored out of your skull with your lavish lifestyle, the psychical investigators your father hired provide a welcome change of pace

➳ you look like shit ♡✧☆  1.5k 🖋️

one time you told lockwood he looked like shit and four times he told you you looked like shit

➳ loveSICK ♡✧ 2.3k 

you don’t know what it is you’re coming down with, but you do know it’s Anthony Lockwood’s fault, the bastard.

➳ late nights ♡✧ 800 w 🖋️💙

you fall asleep while waiting for Lockwood to return from a case.

➳ Sneaking Around ♡ 1.6k 🖋️

you and lockwood are in a secret relationship, but unfortunately for both of you, lockwood isn't very good at sneaking around. three times lockwood almost gave it away and the one time you finally did.

➳ guardian angel ♡✶ 3.8k

as a Visitor lingering in 35 Portland Row, you can’t help but worry over Lockwood and his reckless ways.

➳ no one's ever had me (not like you) ♡☆ 2.1k

a day in the life of dating lockwood

➳ june gloom ✧ 1.6k

(can be read as a stand-alone of with the 1989 tv vault series) if lockwood's truly moved on, what's he doing at your house?

➳ panic attack ✶✿ 1.9k🖋️ 💌

set after the altercation at Winkman's - you help lockwood through a panic attack

1989 TV Vault Series (In Progress)

➳ “Slut!”ᶻ ♡✶✿☆ 5.4k

as an up-and-coming agent regularly torn to shreds by malicious tabloids, you decide that you’re better off alone. That is, until you meet anthony lockwood

➳ Say Don’t Go ✶☆ 3.8k

after your apartment gets flooded, you accept lockwood’s invitation to temporarily move into Portland Row, but through unfortunate unforseen circumstances you end up moving out of his life permanently

➳ Now That We Don’t Talk ✧ 3.1k

you try to piece together how lockwood is doing through the gossip rags you once so desperately detested and reflect on how your life has soured without him around to buoy your spirits

➳ love to think you’ll never forget ✶2.5k 

blurb set after the phone call with lucy in the previous chapter where you ruminate over bittersweet memories and struggle with feelings of inadequacy

➳ Wildest Dreams ♡✧✿ 3.3k 💌

(Fittes!reader) you make an unlikely companion after investigating a certain pilfering boy

➳ After Hours ♡✧✿☆ 2.7k 💌

(librarian!reader) you occasionally bend the rules for a researcher you may have a soft spot for

➳ Be More ♡☆ 2.8k

after a mix-up of dates, you spend Valentine’s Day baking with George

➳ the tortured poets departmentᶻ ✶✿ 3.7k 

(Fittes!reader) as you start to lose touch with George once he leaves Fittes, you make one last-ditch attempt to reconnect with him after Lucy & Lockwood’s wedding 

➳ Northern Attitude ✶✿ 2.1k 💙

Lucy struggles with a disconnect from Lockwood, who helps her through it

➳ I take you like you do your tea, with lemon and with honey ♡✧ 720 w 🖋️💙

(first person!reader) it is both a blessing and a curse to love so deeply

♡ - fluff

✧ - mild angst

✶ - angst

ᶻ - mild smut

✿ - happy ending

🖋️ - drabble (under 2k)

☆ - popular

💌 - requested

💙 - my favourites

[downbadf0rficppl]

love you

Anthony Lockwood x F!Reader

Summary: Part 2 of let me - Your nights are plagued with nightmares that feel all too real. It's all connected to the Bowers' manor. You need to solve this mystery before it drives you crazy. What will you find?

Word Count: 3.9K

Warnings: umm a lot of gore - it's inspired that one episode of guillermo del toro's cabinet of curiosities, so yeah. also they kiss. and it's slightly sad at the end. lmk if there's anything else.

You twisted in your bed- sheets soaked with sweat, hair sticking to your forehead. Vivid images flew across your mind, confusing you with their content.

There was a woman - tall and beautiful, but angry. She was so, so angry. She gripped your hand tightly, pulling you across the floor and locking you in a room. There was a little boy in there, curled in the corner, clutching a teddy bear. 

The teddy bear was familiar - there was a picture of your mother holding an identical one somewhere in the attic of your family home. The boy was covering the teddy bear’s ears. There was screaming outside the door - two voices creating a cacophony, so disruptive that you cowered under its weight. 

In the distance, you could hear the lullaby again - the one from the manor. The little boy stood up and ran to the corner of the room, glancing back before disappearing into a secret door behind the wardrobe.

The scene changed - light streamed through the window now, casting shadows of the window pane on the wooden floor. The angry woman was now stood at the base of the stairs, her coat wrapped around her and a hat in her hands.

“Elizabeth!” she called, “Elizabeth, hurry, we can’t be late again!” 

A young girl ran down the stairs, her fingers dancing over the railing as she ran. You looked at her closely. She almost looked like you. Same hair, same eyes, same face shape. It was peculiar. A floorboard creaked behind you. You turned back to face the stairs - the little boy was sat there again, hands grasping his teddy bear. He looked woefully at his sister, who was already out the door, chattering away to their mother. You could hear her muffled voice through the shut door. You shivered.

A draft blew through the house. Loud sobbing echoed through the halls and you ran upstairs, following the sound. You turned open the door to the boy’s room, before scrambling back hand clamped over your mouth to stifle your scream.

There, lying in a pool of her own blood, was the sister. The whole family crowded around her - the father cradled her in his arms while the mother cried into her hands nearby. Their clothes were soaked with blood as they sat wailing. A constable ran up the stairs with the maid, and he stumbled back as the scene came into view. You watched as he muttered a prayer to the Lord.

“Come, Timothy.” The maid held out her hand to you. You gasped. She was the same. She was the maid from the Bowers house. What if she had followed you into your dream? Was that even possible? How could that even happen?

The sound of gentle footsteps behind you broke you out of your spiralling. Behind you was the little boy. His eyes were closed, hands tightly gripping the teddy bear. He was covered in blood. From head to toe.

You step aside as he took the maid’s hand. She led him down the stairs towards the maid’s quarters where he sat patiently on the bed waiting for her to return with a wet cloth. She came back with a tub and a pair of clean clothes for him to change into. Slowly and carefully, she wiped away all of the blood, humming her song all the while. Little Timothy cried as she cleaned him, wailing that it was all his fault. 

Confusion mounted as he cried - how could it be his fault, you thought, it’s not as if he killed his sister? The maid soothed him, whispering that it wasn’t his fault, there’s no way he could have known. 

You felt yourself slipping out of the dream, someone’s hand on your arm, shaking you awake, calling your name. You threw yourself awake, pulling yourself out of bed, and putting distance between whoever was in your room. You stumbled, your legs not ready for the sudden movement. A familiar pair of arms caught you, pulling you back into bed. Lockwood. 

“Are you alright?” He asked, once you were settled back into bed, “I heard you screaming from across the hall.”

“I’m fine. Just a bad dream.”

Lockwood didn’t look convinced. “Was it about the last case? The one at the manor?”

“No,” you lied, looking away from his inquiring eyes, “it’s one of those ones where nothing makes sense but it’s just scary.”

“Okay. Try and get back to sleep,” Lockwood pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead, “if you can’t, you can always come and be an insomniac with me.”

You smiled at him as he left before bringing a hand up to brush your hairline. He kissed you? Lockwood wasn’t one to show physical affection, even to Ruby and George. Since moving in here, you’d only seen him be affectionate once, hugging Ruby when he was exceptionally tired. You smiled internally, lying back down and turning over. Maybe there’s a slight possibility that he feels the same.

It had been 3 days and the nightmare was still replaying itself in your head. You and Lucy were getting ready to go into central London for a case - suited up and ready to scope out quite an old townhouse. The owners had been complaining that there was an apparition causing a disturbance in the attic.

The two of you hopped in a cab, exchanging notes on George’s research as you pulled up to 16 Cherry Tree Lane. It was a tall townhouse in a very affluent part of London. The area had a rich history and Lucy knocked on the door just as the sun started setting. 

Your footsteps echoed as you entered the empty townhouse - clearly the owners were still in the process of moving in as the home was barren. The case should be easy - one ghost that they could hear in the attic, likely a Type 1. Easy. In and out.

“Let’s just get this over with, then we can get pizza,” Lucy said, harking back to Lockwood’s promise to pick up pizza on his way back from DEPRAC.

The two of you headed up the stairs, both of you using your listening skills to try and locate the ghost. Lucy stayed on the first floor, exploring the bedrooms, while you headed up to the second floor to see if you had any luck there. You could hear faint humming - a man’s voice but still, for a moment you stood, paralysed by fear. There was no way she could have followed you here. You heard footsteps come from behind you, and someone calling your name. Lucy. You tried calling out to her but found yourself unable to yell or run to her. You were stuck.

Lucy comes upstairs to find you standing by the top of the stairs, tears streaming down your face. The ghost wasn’t near you - he seemed oblivious to either of you being there (you were right when you said he was a Type 1). Lucy blocks him from your view, placing her hands on the side of your head, bringing your focus back to her. You soon relaxed, your body releasing its tension and movement returned to your body. Your hands came up to cover hers, reassuring her that you were okay. She didn’t seem convinced.

As you pulled up to 35 Portland Row, you were still shaking from the icy grip of the ghost. The chill seemed to linger in your bones and your body felt heavy as you walked up the steps to the house. Lucy’s worried gaze lingered on you as she opened the door, her arm steady around your shoulders, but she said nothing as you trudged into the house.

"You should rest," Lucy suggested gently, closing the door behind you. "I'll make you some tea."

You nodded gratefully, already feeling the exhaustion creep in. As you settled onto the couch, Lucy disappeared into the kitchen, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

As you dozed off on the couch, you heard the door open and Lockwood announce that he had pizza. Somewhere deep in the back of your mind, you celebrated - it had been months since you guys had been able to treat yourselves to a full pizza meal, so you were excited. But the case had really taken it out of you, so you just remained curled up on the couch.

You vaguely heard Lockwood call your name and walk into the room, but you were too tired to lift your head. You feel his hand brush over your head and a shiver runs down your spine. You hear him ask Lucy what happened, and - with a slight hesitation - she tells him. You can't be mad at her - Lockwood deserved to know the whole truth.

Eventually, he and Lucy slipped away, leaving you to the silence of the room. The scent of pizza wafted from the kitchen and your stomach growled. Mustering up the last ounces of your energy, you rose from the couch and walked over to the kitchen, where the three of them were sat. You gingerly sat in your chair, reaching out for some pepperoni pizza.

The four of you sat in a silence as Lucy and George rushed to finish their pizza and slip away. They knew what was coming.

"You should be resting," Lockwood finally said, as Lucy shut the door behind her. The worry on his face morphed into anger as you took another bite of pizza, "See this is what I mean when I say you're too reckless."

His words stung a little and you felt a flare of defiance. "I'm not a child, Anthony, I can take care of myself."

"Clearly not well enough." He retorted, pushing his plate away. He may be the big boss of Lockwood and Co, but he still left his crusts on the plate. Lockwood's voice kept rising, "You know what, you're benched until I say otherwise. If I can't trust you to keep yourself safe, I'll do it for you."

The finality in his tone makes your blood boil. "You can't just bench me!" You shouted back, standing up to match Lockwood's stance. "I'm also a part of this team, and I deserve to be treated like it."

Lockwood stepped back, his expression a mix of anger and hurt. "I'm doing this because I care about you. Can't you see that?"

But you were too angry to listen. Without another word, you stormed out of the kitchen and off to your room, slamming the door behind you - the picture frames on the wall rattled with force. The silence that followed was deafening, your heart pounding in your ears.

As you sat on the edge of your bed, the anger slowly ebbed away, replaced by a crushing sense of guilt. You knew that Lockwood wasn't doing it to be malicious, but his overprotectiveness felt suffocating. Curling up on your bed, you tried to drift off to sleep but it felt impossible. You were benched off the team and at odds with Lockwood. You didn't need to add another nightmare to that mix.

The next day, Anthony and Lucy disappeared on another mission, while George took a trip to the British Library to put together some information for a case next week. You were supposed to stay behind at the house to clean up and take care of some artifacts, but you had other plans. 

While George got a taxi from the house, you slipped out and caught the next bus in that direction. The British Library was a familiar sanctuary, rows of dusty tomes lining the shelves, each one holding secrets waiting to be uncovered. Years before you had worked for Lockwood and Co., you did what George did - extensive research.

You settled at a computer in the far corner of the library, brow furrowed in concentration, as you flicked through some old local newspapers that mentioned the old Bower's Manor.

The pages were filled with tales of hauntings and tragedy, the ghostly echoes of past inhabitants lingering in the crumbling halls, stuff that George had already pulled out in his last case file. You traced your finger along faded photographs of the manor, trying to figure out why you felt so drawn to it. 

"There's something here," you murmured to yourself, "There must be."

You slide a worn parchment under the magnifier beside you. The photo caught your eye. It was the little boy you saw. You shifted it towards the text. 

May 26th, 1947

News from the Bowers Manor: Ms. Elizabeth Bowers, eldest daughter of Lord and Mrs. Timothy Bowers, has unfortunately passed on at the age of 15, two months after Lord Bower’s brother, Lt. Charles M. Bowers. The passing has been reported as the result of a chronic and fatal condition, but some within the house believe some other forces to be at play. 

Constable M. Myers reported the case to be unlike any he had seen before after he was called to the Manor early Saturday morning. He reportedly returned to the station covered in blood and shaking, before retiring home for the weekend. He has not been able to give any other statement.

You stopped reading. This was it. The story from your memory. Vision? Whatever it was. You scanned the rest of the text, looking for the name of the brother, but there was no mention of him. 

You took the next newspaper in the pile and placed it under the magnifier. Nothing. And the next. And the next. Still nothing. Finally you find one from 1957. Ten years after the original. In the corner of one of the middle pages is a small photo and an article titled, ‘The Last Bowers’. This could be it. 

October 2nd, 1957

Sgt. Timothy Bowers II, son of the late Lord and Mrs. Timothy Bowers, closed the doors to the Bower’s Manor for the last time as the keys pass on to one Mr. Khalil. The 19-year-old made the decision after the passing of his cousin, the late Ms. Sanders. The Sergeant confirmed his decision to sell at last week’s monthly town meeting, and was met with uproar. Nonetheless, it seems whatever bad luck has haunted the house and the Bowers family has finally driven the young Sergeant away.

You examined the photo and your heart dropped to your stomach. You’d seen that photo before. Framed. In your mother’s house. The revelation hit you like a thunderbolt, sending a shiver down your spine as you stared at the crumbling pages before you again. The old Bowers Manor was owned by your ancestors, and the boy from the photo - and your nightmares - was none other than your grandfather.

Images flashed through your mind, fragments of memories long buried resurfacing in vivid detail. You remembered the stories your mother told you as a child, tales of a troubled past and a family history shrouded in darkness. But you never imagined that those secrets lay within the walls of the very manor you had been investigating.

As the realization sank in, you felt your mind race with possibilities. The discovery added a new layer of complexity to the mission, one that you couldn't ignore. But it made sense. Even at Fitte’s, you weren’t supposed to work cases that were close to you - no family relations or people that you were close to. Despite Anthony's orders to stay away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was something you had to do.You may have been benched, but that didn't mean you were out of the game. And if that meant you had to defy Anthony’s instructions, so be it. 

You printed a copy of the two newspapers and tucked them carefully into your bag. You then ran to catch the bus home before anyone made it back. 

As you stepped through the door of 35 Portland Row, carrying the weight of the newfound revelations about your family's history, you were met with the stern gaze of Anthony Lockwood. His expression was a mix of frustration and concern, his normally calm demeanor replaced by a crackling intensity that sends a chill down your spine.

"Where have you been?" he demanded, his voice sharp with reproach. "I thought we agreed that you were going to stay here.”

“If by agreed, you mean you told me to stay here and just expected me to agree.”

His expression didn’t change. Instead, his eyes caught one of the photocopies that was clenched in your hand. He grabbed while you were distracted and looked over it. His face hardened more if that was possible. “I thought I specifically told you to stay away from that case."

You swallowed hard, knowing that you were about to face the full force of Anthony's wrath. "I know, but I had to—"

"You had to, what?" he interrupted, his tone laced with exasperation. "Risk your life chasing after a ghost that we don’t need to? You almost got ghost-touched! Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?"

You met his gaze head-on, refusing to back down. "I had to find out the truth," you replied, your voice steady despite the turmoil brewing inside you. "About my family, about the manor—about everything."

“Your family?” Anthony's features soften slightly, a flicker of concern crossing his face. “What do you mean?”

You explained the truth. Everything you’d found out in the Library. You watched as Anthony’s shoulder slumped with every word. You knew why you got ghost-locked now, so things should be back to normal.

Anthony didn’t share the sentiment. "You can't keep doing this," he said, his voice gentler now, tinged with worry. "You're important to me, to all of us. I can't stand the thought of you putting yourself in harm's way like this."

His words caught you off guard, a pang of emotion tugging at your heart. You'd always known that Anthony cared about you, but hearing him express it so openly sent a rush of warmth flooding through you.

"Anthony," you began, reaching out to touch his arm, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you."

He met your gaze, his eyes softening as he took in your sincerity. "I know you didn't," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "But please, promise me you'll be more careful. Promise me you'll take care of yourself."

A tense silence envelops the room, broken only by the sound of your racing heart. You can feel the weight of his concern pressing down on you, mingling with your own sense of guilt and determination.

He’d stepped closer to you at some point in your conversation, to the point where his face was inches away from yours. His hand came up to caress the side of your face as he stared into your eyes. “Please take care of yourself. I don’t think I’d survive it if you got hurt. I know…-”

In a moment of impulsive clarity, you leaned forward, closing the distance between you and Anthony in one swift motion. Your lips met his in a tender, desperate kiss, cutting off his tirade mid-sentence.

For a heartbeat, the world fell away, leaving only the sensation of Anthony's lips against yours, the warmth of his embrace pulling you closer. In that fleeting instant, everything else faded into insignificance, overshadowed by the intensity of your connection.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and trembling, you were met with Anthony's wide-eyed gaze, his expression a mix of shock and disbelief. For a heartbeat, neither of you spoke, the weight of the unspoken hanging heavy in the air.

Then, slowly, tentatively, Anthony reached out to cup your cheek, his touch gentle against your skin. "What was that?" he whispered, his voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

You met his gaze, your own eyes filled with a mixture of uncertainty and longing. "I... I don't know," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. "But I couldn't stand to see you upset, and... and I needed you to know."

Anthony's expression softened, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I understand," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "And... and I think I needed to know too."

The tension in the room dissipated, as you met Anthony’s gaze with sincerity shining in your eyes. 

"I promise," you said softly, "I'll take better care of myself. And I won't put myself in unnecessary danger again."

Anthony nodded, his expression softening with relief. "And I promise to trust you more," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I know I can be too controlling at times, but I'll work on letting go and giving you the space you need."

He pulled you back into his arms and you relaxed into them. You rested your cheek on his shoulder as he held you, content to just be.

You and Anthony stood outside the Bowers manor. The building wasn’t any less imposing the second time, and Anthony squeezed your hand in reassurance. We can do this, it said. You took a deep breath. 

You pushed open the heavy door and stepped into the decrepit hallway, the air thick and stagnant. This time, the feeling of discomfort didn’t weigh as heavily on your chest as you and Anthony made your way to the maid’s quarters.

Finally, you reached the quarters and you came face-to-face with the ghost that had been haunting your dreams for the past week. It was the maid, her spectral form flickering in and out of existence as she clung to the shadows, her eyes filled with longing and sorrow.

You and Anthony searched the room for anything that could be the source. Eventually, Lockwood found a loose floorboard hiding a silver hair comb and a few photos. He called you over, yelling at you to get a silver box, or some net. Anything that would subdue the maid. 

But as you grabbed the net, a voice cut through the silence—a voice you recognised all too well. It was your grandfather, his eyes covered by special goggles that you’d seen somewhere before. They were the same as the one’s Fairfax was wearing before Annabelle killed him. You shuddered at the thought. 

Your grandfather’s form materialised beside the maid, his face etched with pain and regret. "Please," he begged, his voice thick with emotion. "Don't do this. She's all I have left."

You hesitated, torn between the desire to end your haunting and listening to your grandfather’s plea. But deep down, you know what needs to be done. With a heavy heart, you threw the net over the source, the energy crackling through the air as the maid's form begins to fade.

In a sudden burst of anger and despair, your grandfather lunged forward, his arms reaching out as he tried to stop you. But before he could reach you, Anthony stepped in, shielding you from the blow.

As the maid's form faded into nothingness, you reached out to your grandfather, pulling him close as he sobbed in your arms. For a moment, there were no words, only the sound of his tears mingling with the echoes of the past.

But then, as the last remnants of the maid faded away, your grandfather lifted his head, his eyes filled with gratitude and sorrow. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the fading echoes of the manor. "For giving me the chance to say goodbye."

fin.

[thestrangerblog]

I wonder how Lucy and Lockwood spend Christmas during Black Winter. And I can’t stop thinking that they were probably alone.

George surely was with his family. I'm sure they invited Lockwood to join them, but he probably declined, too proud to be the poor orphan boy spending Christmas with a family that isn't his.

He wasn’t close enough with Holly to spend Christmas with her, even if she didn’t visit family.

And Lucy surely didn’t drive home and she has no friends apart from Lockwood and Co.

Maybe they worked, but who shedules an appointment with an agency on Christmas?

They probably sat at home alone, missing each other.

[wolverinesleftclaw]

Hey sweetheart! 😘 I hope I can ask for an Elijah Mikaelson imagine where you both fell in love during the events in Mystic Falls, even though he never wanted to show feelings again, but he couldn't help when he met you. So you started dating and he's always making sure you're okay and it's all just great. That changes when Klaus comes to town and sees you with Elijah. He kidnaps you to hurt his brother and Elijah gets furious. He finds you, but you're pretty hurt and barely alive, so he needs to make a decision and turns you in the end. After you wake up he's there for you and promises to be with you forever and you're accepting your new life ?

Hope this is okay with you 🫶🏼

Save Me

18+ —— (masterlist)

He was going to be your downfall. You already knew that, but what you didn’t expect was for you’re fate to be in his brothers hands.

⋆˚✿˖° Thank you for the request my love @talesofreading ! I literally spent days working on this for you so i sincerely hope you love and enjoy every second of it. I also left it open for a second part of you wish <3 ⋆˚✿˖°

warnings: violence, mentions of kidnapping, Elijah being stubborn, Klaus being Klaus, possessive!Elijah, no mention of y/n, angst, heartbreak, biting, kinda beefy!elijah (i just always imagine him actually towering over my ocs), power dynamic, seems unfinished but i rly wanna write a second part lol

You had grown up in mystic falls you’re whole life, the quiet town where nothing ever happened. Well that was bullshit, the whole town crawled with the worlds most dangerous creatures. You had found out about Vampires after your best friend Elena started dating Stefan Salvatore then you heard about his less charming douche bag brother Damon and decided to stay away from them as a whole. Subsequently because Elena and you had been attached at the hip since preschool you didn’t have to interact with them but you sure did get filled in on all the gossip. Which was why you were currently in the car on your way to the lockwood mansion with her. Apparently the latter were on a mission to kill elena’s freako look alike great something grandma.

“this sucks” you said looking over at Elena who was driving the car — “we literally live in a town of vampires, werewolf’s and witches and the two of us are just human” you added

“yeah well i think i’d rather be human than a vampire” Elena declared stubbornly

“you know i think i have to agree because we both know that Stefan and Damon are going to do a terrible job at killing Katherine and if you were a vampire i think she’d make your life eternally miserable” you responded just as you pulled up to the Lockwood mansion. “i am so not dressed for the occasion” you muttered under your breath eyeing your oversized sweatpants and spaghetti strap tang top, you barley had time to put your shoes on before Elena was pulling you out of the house. you wrapped your arms around your body as Elena pulled you through crowds of people into the mansion. You and Elena quickly found bonnie and Jeremy quietly talking amongst themselves in the corner. Unfortunately you couldn’t get yourself to care about the conversation going on in front of you mainly because of the chill running down your spine at the sight of a man in a jester mask staring right back at you. You blinked and the man was gone just as Elena cried out in pain.

~~~~

“I can’t believe Katherine did that to you” you rushed as you tried to keep up with Elena. The night had only gotten worse and when everything was said and done Elena was a bloody mess and you were freezing.

“honestly, i’m surprised you think she wouldn’t do this to me” Elena retorted storming to her car.

you followed closely behind, “okay well don’t get mad with me it’s not my fault that you almost died” you argued back crossing your arms over your chest. “i’m sorry okay? it’s just… she’s only doing this because she’s in love with Stefan” Elena sighed.

you saw the same man from earlier with the jester mask walk up behind Elena. You’re eyes widened in worry “Elena watch out” you yelled as you ran forward to push the man away from your friend. He grabbed you and threw you against the car slamming your head into the door.

~~~

When you wake up the first thing you notice is the rope around your arms and legs. You quickly try to get out of them but fail miserably.

“Stop trying to get out of the ropes. It’ll never work” a brunette said as she walked into the room. “who are you?” you asked flinching as she walked towards you and bent down.

“my names rose.” she responded voice dead “you weren’t supposed to be with the girl” she said sadly, undoing your restraints.

“where is Elena, what do you want with her” you shook as you replied.

“it’s not what we want. it’s what he wants” she said as she looked away from you — “who’s he?” you asked lowly, she moved her head back to face you and replied “Elijah”

~~~

“oh my god you’re okay” Elena said as she rushed towards you when rose took you into the other room. “yea i’m okay lena” you smiled sadly.

“he’s here. this was a mistake” a man rushed out as he paced around the room. “Trevor in order to get our freedom we must give him the girl. This is no mistake” the woman demanded grabbing the man to a stop. “I will bring him here, watch the girls.” she asserted as she walked out of the room.

“I’m not going to make it out of here am i?” you sighed trying to fight the tears in your eyes as you looked forward towards the covered up windows.

“hey, no don’t say that. I’m going to do everything i can to make sure we both get out here alive” Elena reassured you as she held you, you rested your head on her shoulder and sighed out a breath. The weight of this situation coming crashing down on you. While you both were human, Elena was more important to the supernatural world than you would ever be. You also knew if it came down to it Stefan and Damon would leave you to die if it meant saving her. You didn’t resent her for that, you were happy she had somebody who would do anything for her, you just wished you had someone who would do the same for you.

Your head snapped up at the sound of footsteps, your breathing became shallow as Elena pulled you onto your feet with her. You were terrified, you had no idea who Elijah was and from roses reaction to him you could tell he probably wasn’t going to be a saint.

In the blink of an eye you were throw behind Elena’s back as a man took place in front of her. You saw what you would say was the most handsome man you’d ever seen. You kicked yourself. you shouldn’t be thinking that when your best friends life was on the line, but you couldn’t help but notice the way his hair fell perfectly down around his handsome face, the powerful stance in which he stood. You noted he was dressed in a suit which probably cost more than your whole life together. His eyes drew you in from behind Elena and you couldn’t look away. If this was the way you went out you wouldn’t complain.

“human. It’s impossible” he breathed out in shock. “hello there” he smirked, you noticed his gaze went past Elena and right into your eyes. He was talking to you. why would he be talking to you? You felt your heartbeat quicken and you were sure you’d held your breath way beyond your lungs capability. You quickly shifted your gaze downwards biting your lip, suddenly remembering your lack of clothing moving closer to Elena.

“we have a long journey ahead of us we should be going” Elijah says grabbing Elena’s arm and turning them around.

“And the girl? What should we do with her.” Rose asked from across the room.

Elijah’s gaze moved to meet yours again. “leave her be. Do not harm her.” he ordered rose.

Elena looked at you with a pleading look before crying out towards rose “please, don’t let him take me.”

Elijah let go of Elena’s arm pushing her towards rose. “one last piece of business before we go”

Elijah stalks towards Trevor who shrinks down in fear “you have no idea how long i’ve waited for this day” he sputtered out. You noticed how Elijah held such an air of power around himself. You wondered how old he was, surely he was a vampire. You tuned out the rest of the conversation watching as Elijah ruled the two vampires in the room with just his presence. You suddenly hear rose cry out in sorrow as Elijah smacks Trevor’s head clean from his body. You noticed that Elijah had moved his body so he was in front of you, like he was intentionally blocking you from the scene in front. Your face paled as he grabbed both you and Elena dragging you to the front of the house. “who else is here” he demanded towards rose who shook her head “no one”

His grip tightened around your arm as he pushed Elena towards rose keeping you firmly planted next to him. Damon and Stefan were playing games with him. That probably wasn’t a smart idea you thought. You felt your body being ripped away from Elijah’s grasp and slammed up against a wall. Your head hitting the wall hard. Too hard. You cried out in pain and shook as the dizziness came in waves until everything went black.

~~~

When you woke up you took note of the fact you were still in the house, except it was night time now. You brushed the dirt off of your pants as you stood up and looked around. “Elena…” you yelled out wincing when you remembered that probably wasn’t a good idea. You were answered back with silence as you made your way towards the front of the stairs. You gasped as your eyes landed on a very dead Elijah, you walked quietly towards his seemingly sleeping body. Just as you reached out to pull the coat rack from his body he awoke with a gasp of his own. Anger displayed upon his face as he ripped the coat rack from his chest and threw it across the room at a very inhuman speed. He cracked his neck and fixed his jacket before his gaze landed on you.

“what did you do?” he roared taking large steps towards you. For every one step he took you had to take three steps back. “i — i didn’t do anything” you felt your face pale and mouth dry with fear. “y — you were dead” you stuttered trying to look anywhere but his angry eyes. “for centuries now. where did the girl go?” he demanded looking you up and down as if he was trying to decide what to do with you. “i really don’t know, i just woke up on the floor. I’m assuming Stefan and Damon took her… they left me, no way they actually left me here” you rambled out as your back hit the wall. You realized you had nowhere to go as Elijah’s frame blocked you in. You noticed how tall he was, you had always been short it didn’t take much for someone to be taller than you, but Elijah; he was tall. You stood just below his shoulders, your small frame feeling even smaller as he stood in front of you.

“what wonderful friends you have” he implied looking down from your eyes to your neck where he could see the blood rushing between your veins. “they aren’t my friends. only elena is” you mumbled shifting on your feet. “hm. we should get going then” he declared swiftly pulling his jacket from his shoulders and holding it out to you.

~~

“do you always kidnap teenage girls?” you asked looking out of the window in Elijah’s car and wrapping his jacket tighter around. “do you consider this kidnapping?” he asked with a cocked head. “yes i do.” you stated firmly looking over at him “do you not?”. he looked fully at you now, “i consider this me doing you a favor, saving a poor defenseless girl from an abandoned home, to which your own friends didn’t save you from. Now i could have done what i originally intended and drained every single drop of blood from your body and left you there, but i didn’t. So No i would not say this is considered kidnapping” he replied putting his eyes back on the road. “why didn’t you kill me?” you pondered fidgeting with your fingers in your lap. you noticed his fingers tightened their grip around the steering wheel as he said “there’s something awfully interesting about you.”

~~

From that moment on you and Elijah had been inseparable. He told you about his desire to not be seen in mystic falls just yet. So you returned home and acted as if some friendly stranger gave you a ride home.

It hadn’t taken long for you to fall head over heels for Elijah, but you noticed his hesitance when it came to you. How he never shared too much about himself. How he absolutely insisted you never speak of him to anyone, as if he was scared. You had learned he was one of the oldest vampires to ever exist. A thousand years old, he was strong, and wise and he surely had a copious amount of enemies. You knew all of that should have scared you away but you found it only intriguing you more and more each day. He handled you with such care, as if the smallest of things would break you and he’d lose you forever. Yet he never said what you wanted him to say.

It had been weeks since the day in the abandoned house and Elijah had finally made his presence known to mystic falls. You especially enjoyed pretending you didn’t spend all your time with the man. You knew in your gut Elijah feels the same way about you that you do him. It was just getting him to act on it that proved to be hard.

When you saw him at the founders party all dressed in his grey suit and hair slicked back, you didn’t care who noticed you decided that you had had enough of pining over him.

“so, Mr. Smith?” you quoted raising your champagne glass to your lips to hide your smile. “not everyone can be privy to my actual identity sweetheart” he replied looking down at you. You noticed his eyes raking over your form. “you look absolutely astonishing tonight” he said voice husky as his gaze returned to yours. You almost moaned at the tone of his voice. This was what you meant, you knew he was attracted to you but he never acted on it. You figured your best bet would be to show him what he was missing. “do i?” you questioned him with a smile “i thought you’d like this dress” you winked at him as his eyes darkened. “I didn’t think you would be bold enough to test your little theory here” he smiled licking his lips before raising his glass of champagne. “what theory would that be?” you pushed trying to get him to say it for himself but before he could answer a hand wrapped around your shoulder.

“Fancy seeing you here, my, my you look amazing” Damon stated, you winced out of his grasp moving away from him. You noticed the deadly look on Elijah’s face as he stared Damon down. “Damon i do believe it’s time we have a chat just the two of us” he said through gritted teeth. The two disappearing upstairs before you could say anything

~~

You sat a the bar picking at the fruit tray when Elijah approached you again. “I’m sorry sweetheart, i had to take care of something” he said moving to stand behind you. “did you kill him” you accused taking a bite out of a strawberry. “No i did not, I should have.” he replied turning you in your seat so you were facing him. “why” you questioned looking up at him. “because i do not like the idea of him ever looking at you again.” Elijah moved his head down so he was level with your ear, “or anyone for that matter” he muttered moving your hair out of the way, inhaling your scent. “i know this is what you want, it’s what i want too. But it would be selfish of me to subject you to the life i live.” he confessed before he grabbed you and in the blink of an eye you were in a different room. “you don’t get to decide what’s right or wrong for me Elijah” you argued back pulling out of his embrace. “why are you scared, I know it’s not the reason you just gave. I know that because for months i have been living as apart of your life, i know you think giving me some noble reason will deter me from continuing this but it won’t, so what’s the real reason?” you semi shouted at him, you were angry and you had every right to be. He’d been playing that game since the day you met him, where he acted as if he wanted you and then decided he couldn’t be with you. “Because i have lost every single person i have ever loved!” he roared back with tears in his eyes “i have had every person i have ever cared for ripped away from me, for a millennium i have been dealt constant heartbreak. I would be a fool if i left myself care for another being ever again, and i would be eternally selfish if i let you in and you died at the hand of my enemies.. or worse me. But you have infiltrated my very being, every thought, every feeling is because of you, so i cannot just let you walk away, because no where is far enough for me to not crave you, you’re scent is engraved in my senses and i cannot stop it.” he confessed moving toward you, he lifted his arm and ran his knuckles down your face as he gazed lovingly into your eyes. you leaned into his hand and looked up at him through your eyelashes. He was staring at your lips, this was new he’d never done that before. Elijah leaned down until his lips were just above your own “can i kiss you” he asked against your lips. You nodded your head vigorously as he entwined his lips with yours. His lips are softer than anything you’ve ever known. The feeling in your chest was explosive, spreading all throughout your body. He tilted your head upward biting your lip in the process. you let out a moan of approval, moving your hands to lay underneath his suit jacket. You could feel every inch of his muscles tensing underneath your touch. You loved it, craved for more. His hand moved from your face into your hair, bunching it up and pulling you closer to him. You loved every second of this moment, how raw and beautiful it truly was.

When Elijah pulled away from the kiss he rested his forehead on yours, out of breath you closed your eyes.

~~

Elijah had entrusted you with the secret of the curse placed upon his brother Klaus. You were sleeping one night when he came to see you, telling you that Elena would need to be sacrificed in order for him to kill his brother. Of course you asked him if he was sure he wanted to do this and he was. So tonight he was attending a dinner party at the Salvatore mansion in order to keep and eye on Damon. You had told him you thought it was a bad idea, that you got a bad feeling from it, but he insisted he would be alright. Now it was two days later and you hadn’t heard or seen from him. You were currently on a mission to find him when you entered the Salvatore mansion to find all your so called friends having some type of meeting. “where is Elijah” you announced as you walked in. “so you are sleeping with him” Damon said back smirking as he turned around to face her. “Yeah Damon i am, you know if you were going to have such an issue with it maybe you shouldn’t have left me for dead” you said walking more into the room. “well he’s not here, so no need for you to be here any longer” he dismissed her. You looked at Elena over his shoulder meeting her gaze. She quickly moved her eyes towards the basement door. You nodded your head and turned to walk away when Alaric called out to you. “hey wait up” he called after you following you outside.

“you’ve literally never talked to me before Alaric, so unless your going to tell me where Elijah is don’t start now” you said not stopping your stride heading to your car.

“cmon now love i just wanted a chat. seems we have to do this the hard way” Alaric replied grabbing your arm and slamming your head into your car window.

~~~

you awoke to a shooting pain in your side as you stirred. “welcome back to the land of the living love” a man said crouching in-front of you “i’m getting really tired of people knocking me out” you murmured groggily.

“ah yes, you see i’ve heard my brother was plotting my demise, and since i’ve got more at stake than him i figured an eye for an eye.” klaus said reaching to grab something above your head. His hand returned with a knife, your eyes widened as he covered your mouth and stabbed you in the thigh as your screams muffled. “now living for a thousand years you learn a few things about torture. except your human and you can’t handle as much as i’d like.” he said twisting the knife, the pain you felt was white hot and expanded through your whole body. “So i’ll resort to draining all but a drop of blood from you until Elijah comes to find you.” he said with a wicked smirk, grabbing your hair and tilting your head back. His whole face changed, you remember seeing Elijah’s vampire face which you loved but Klaus’ was just outright scary. You felt his sharp teeth rip into your carotid artery, you felt every drop of blood leave your body. The excruciating pain of his teeth in your skin. You head felt heavy as it rolled to the side when he finally pulled away. “cmon love the games are just beginning.” he taunted.

~~

when Elijah had woken the first thing he demanded of Elena was to bring him to you. When she failed to find you red flags raised in his mind. You would never disappear and all he could think was you had hurt yourself in the process of trying to find him. what he wasn’t expecting was for his brother to have taken you captive. when Elijah found you, you were a bloody mess. Crimson red everywhere, you say in your own puddle of blood. Shallow breathing was all he heard as he rushed forward and held your face in his hand. “my love” he whispered trying to wake you up.

You failed to wake up after the fifth time he tried. You had bruises and cuts all over you. The wounds on your thighs bleeding the most. When you whimpered in response to him shifting you he was glad for a sign you were alive.

“Elijah” you cried out unable to move “i can’t it hurts so much” you reached out to grab his arm as he picked you up and speed the two of you to his apartment.

“i’m so sorry my love” he cried as he held your hand. “for what?” you asked weakly wiping his tears away from his eyes. “for not protecting you. I can give you my blood and it will heal you.”he said moving your body to lay down. in the process of moving you the wounds he had patched in your thighs had opened, resulting in you losing blood. Again you had become faint and in and out of consciousness.

Elijah had managed to get his blood down your throat but he knew he would lose you. he had waited to long to feed it to you. Within the next minute he whispered a quick apology into your ear and snapped your neck.

[desos-records]

alright let’s talk about Lockwood & Co vs Adults

(mostly about the show, I started the books before the show came out and I’m not done, be nice)

Lockwood tries so very hard to act older than he is and he essentially Had To after losing his family. We aren’t told the specifics, but he doesn’t seem to have any adults in his life. Or many people in it period. George has only known him for a year, Flo used to live with him but hasn’t for at least a year if not more, and Kipps is. well. Kipps.

But other than that he seems to have been alone: he’s the one who takes care of the business and the finances, finding new clients and recruiting new agents (he has a mortgage and insurance and he can’t even drive yet). It fits with the overarching theme of the older generation not just failing the newer one, but exploiting it too. Lockwood was abandoned by the generation that was supposed to take care of him (on purpose or not)--just like all the kids of his generation, George and Lucy included.

It’s a little simpler when it comes to George and Lucy. They both left their families by choice; they chose to be the mature ones, to do what they had to so they could feel safe and at home. George left parents who loved him, but didn’t understand him. Lucy left a physically abusive mother who exploited her for money. They’re both mature in very concrete, measurable ways that are natural extensions of their characters. George cleans and cooks and handles research. Lucy is emotionally mature, holding both boys (and people in general) accountable for their actions and making her able to pick out incredible nuances in emotion (of both the living and the dead).

But Lockwood’s maturity feels a little more like play-acting than the others. Partly, I think, because he didn’t get a choice. He’s been functionally an independent adult for god knows how long. He dresses in suits and is entirely too formal (in the books it takes forever for him to stop calling Lucy ‘Miss Carlyle’). But you can tell that it is definitely an act. His tie and trousers are too short, his coat is too big, and, god bless him, he wears the most beat up pair of sneakers I’ve ever seen.

His interactions with actual adults become a flashpoint. It’s most obvious in his interactions with adult men (partly just because most of the adults in the show are men), who he is trying so hard to look and act like. But in every case, they call him out on it and he’s reminded how young he is and almost always in a way that hurts.

The most obvious are Fairfax, Winkman, and what’s-his-face with the gold sword and guyliner, who are trying to kill him. In all cases, Lockwood can’t physically overpower them (Fairfax and Guyliner have guns, Winkman has an electric chair) and his words don’t mean anything to them. And Guyliner is even more dangerous because he knows his parents, knows something about the story behind Lockwood’s armor.

But what’s more interesting are the adults who aren’t trying to kill him.

Barnes picks apart the arguments Lockwood throws up in defense of himself and his agency, not with posturing, but with genuine (although rather harsh) concerns for their safety. For Lockwood, Barnes is a Captain Hook figure, but Barnes acts more like a disgruntled school principal than anything else. He’s working to protect a whole city full of kids that are, by necessity, thrown into harm’s way. And you can see it when Lockwood says that Barnes doesn’t like them much and it throws him off-guard.

The DEPRAC agent at the auction tells them to leave not just because he thinks they can’t handle it, but because they shouldn’t have to

Jesus, you’re children

Yes, he’s aggressive and antagonistic about it, which only makes Lockwood bristle more. Lockwood steps towards him trying to act with authority, even threatening, but all the agent does to break his armor is grab him hard by the shoulder and push him back. But despite that, he is trying to protect them. And he dies to protect them. It is the only instance of someone truly seeing them for what they are: kids. Not agents or weapons or meal tickets.

But it’s jarring. Lockwood can’t process any of that and that’s not his fault. In the world we’ve seen so far, Barnes and the DEPRAC agent are an anomaly. Most other adults don’t care whether they live or die (so long as they’re useful). Lockwood has every reason to believe that every adult is an obstacle at best and a threat at worst.

And it’s painful. All of it. And a little too close to home, this story of children only valued when they’re useful.

[neewtmas]

Maybe You’re The Idiot

A/N: if I’m honest, I’m not really sure if I like this. it kind of feels all over the place, and I realised again that I’m not the best at writing enemies to lovers or kissing scenes lol if there are any typos, it’s bc it’s 5 am. @ the anon who requested, thank you so much, I hope you enjoy!

pairing: george karim x fem!reader

wordcount: 4.4k

request:  I love everything you’ve written, I often go back to reread and I can’t get enough! So thank you for your works <3 if you can and are willing I have this in mind: George karim x fem!reader who’s joined l&co for a bit but George still hasn’t warmed up to her and she’s trying to prove herself to them to the point of recklessness. Lockwood Lucy who have been playing mediators and peacemaker are fed up with their arguing, claiming they would get along very well if they actually tried. They set them up so they can resolve their rivalry (prob forced proximity with them having to team up for a small mission) but first time is a disaster and from that you’re free to ddo whatever you like - by anon

taglist: @maraschinomerry @marinalor @oblivious-idiot @thedonutdeliverygirl​ (if you wanna be added/removed, just send me an ask :))

masterlist

The house was silent. It was a heavy silence, definitely supernatural. The sun had gone down a few hours ago, and ever since then, darkness had crept stealthily into every room. In stark contrast to the eery atmosphere in the rest of the residence, the kitchen was like a small island of warmth and comfort amidst a sea of dark unknowns. In the centre of the kitchen table stood an oil lamp, its yellowy flame flickering. Any conversation had long since died down, and now it was just a waiting game. Y/N was tapping her fingers on the wooden surface in irregular patterns, glancing at her watch every few seconds. She was nervous about what the night would bring.

“Could you stop!” George snapped, glaring at her and she jumped, immediately taking her hands off the table. “God, you drive me crazy”, he muttered. Y/N straightened up. “What is your problem?”, she asked, exasperated. George had yet to say a single nice word to her, even after several weeks of them working together. If he wasn’t ignoring her entirely, it was all sarcastic remarks or snide comments about her abilities as an agent. She hated how he could make her feel so small and stupid by just looking at her. She got along just fine with Lockwood and Lucy and just wished that George would finally accept her. “I don’t have a problem”, George shot back, crossing his arms and looking at her provocatively. "But maybe you do." She was just about to throw some snarky comment back at him when Lockwood interrupted. "That's enough", he said sharply. "It's nearing midnight and we need to stay alert. Can't have you two squabbling in the background."

Y/N stayed close to Lucy as they left the kitchen a few minutes later, rapiers hanging from their belts, tool kits slung over their torsos. The old lady that hired them tonight had described how her grandchildren had started avoiding the living room, and how the youngest, still a toddler, had cried incessantly whenever anyone would bring him near. She hadn’t noticed anything, but that wasn’t unusual at her age. They had checked the entire house, but as expected, the living room was the only spot with any abnormal phenomena. Lucy had reported some distant whispering, and all of them had felt the heavy atmosphere.

George set down the duffle bag with the chains and went back to the kitchen. Y/N started unfurling the metal and laying it out in the space between in a circle.

“Why don’t you bang them around a bit louder, Y/N? I don’t think the neighbours three houses down heard you yet.”

She turned around swiftly at the sound of George’s mocking voice. “Why don’t you do it yourself then? If you know everything better?” She dropped the end of the chain she was holding and the sound echoed through the room. Lucy rolled her eyes. “Just leave her alone for once, George.”

The temperature had dropped significantly, and miasma was creeping up on everyone. Lucy handed out some chewing gum, and then they stood inside the iron circle, waiting for the apparition to manifest.

Just a few minutes after the old grandfather clock in the hallway had chimed midnight, Lucy reported an increase in the whispering and all four of them watched the corner she had located it in. Y/N had the best sight out of all of them, and so she was the first to make out the shape of a young man. "He's here", she whispered as the ghost drew nearer, feet submerged in the carpet, his outline getting clearer the closer he came. 

"He appeared right next to the cabinet. I bet the source is somewhere in there." "What does he look like?" Lockwood asked, sunglasses perched on his nose. "His death glow is suddenly really bright." 

Y/N studied the face of the ghost, a cold shiver running down her spine as she gazed into the black abyss that was once his eyes. "Early thirties maybe. He's wearing a suit, but no tie." 

"I don't get much from him", Lucy chimed in. "Just that he is angry." 

"I'll run over to the cabinet and secure the source", Y/N said and was about to step over the chains on the ground, when George grabbed her arm and roughly pulled her back so that she stumbled against him. "Have you lost your mind?", he hissed. "You have no idea if the source is even there!" She tried to shake off his arm and snapped at him. "Oh shut up, George. Do you have any better ideas?" "No, but that doesn't mean I just run out of a secured area without any preparation and precaution like an idiot -"

That was the last straw. Y/N yanked her arm out of his grip and leapt over the chains, rushing towards the cabinet. The ghost lurched in her direction and she made a few quick motions with her rapier, causing it to draw back. She sprinted over to the cabinet, dropped to her knees in front of it, and started tearing open the compartments. Behind her, a vase got picked up by the supernatural wind that surged through the room, crashed to the ground and shattered into a million pieces. 

Someone was yelling her name, and suddenly George was next to her, wildly swinging his rapier over her head. The last drawer was stuck and she pulled on it with every bit of strength she could muster, until suddenly it came loose, sending her flying back and right into George. He cursed loudly as he fell over. They were now sprawled on the ground, tangled together in a pile of limbs unable to move and suddenly the ghost of the young man was above them. His face was pulled into a horrific, grotesque display of pure wrath as he plummeted down on them. Y/N screamed and tried to pull out her rapier from underneath her in a last desperate attempt when from one moment to another, the ghost disappeared. 

The screaming wind died down immediately and all that stayed was a violent ringing in her ears as George untangled himself from her and stood up, dusting himself off. He did not offer her his hand, he didn't even give her so much as a single glance before he stomped out of the room. Lucy kneeled next to her, a crumpled-up silver net in her hand. "Are you okay, Y/N?" she asked, taking her hand and helping her up. Y/N nodded weakly. That could have gone terribly wrong. 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The taxi ride home was awkward, to say the least. No one was saying a word, Lockwood looked out the window with his lips pressed together in a thin line the entire time, Y/N had her gaze lowered to her hands in her lap. She could tell Lockwood was angry. She looked over to George once, but when she found him already looking at her with an undefinable expression on his face, she quickly averted her eyes. The last thing she needed was another comment from George. 

Back in 35 Portland Row, Lockwood was pacing up and down in front of them in the kitchen, lips still pressed together, wringing his hands. The atmosphere was tense, no one dared to say a word in fear he would explode at even the slightest disturbance. Finally, he turned to George and Y/N, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“I’ve had more than enough of your stupid, childish antics. You’re disrupting our work as a team and -”

“It wasn't my -” George quipped up, but Lockwood silenced him with a motion of his hand. “No! I don’t care! I don’t care whose fault it was or was not, I don’t care!” His voice got louder towards the end, clearly more than fed up. George seemed like he wanted to say something, but decided against it.

Lockwood continued, trying hard to keep his voice calm. “We are a team. And we need to be able to rely on each other, or else we all could end up dead. Do you understand that?”

Both George and Y/N nodded reluctantly, carefully avoiding even looking in each other's direction.

“Tonight was a disaster, and as much as I'd like to right now, I won’t fire either of you. You have two options: You learn to get along or you both quit. End of discussion.” Without another word, he left the kitchen, Lucy following him close behind.

Y/N and George sat on their respective chairs like two school children that just got scolded, Lockwood’s anger and what he had said still hanging heavy in the air.

George exhaled and broke the silence. “He’s right, you know? Maybe if you hadn’t been so stupid -” Y/N immediately jumped up, balling her fists. “Stupid? Me?” George also rose from his seat, making a few quick steps toward her and jabbing his finger into her chest. His eyes behind his glasses were narrowed as he spoke through gritted teeth. “Yes, stupid. You almost got yourself killed back there, Y/N. Killed. Do you understand what that means?”

For a moment she was overwhelmed by how close he was, but then she pushed him back by his shoulders and he stumbled. “Guess what George? I do! But it’s not like you’d care anyways, so why does it matter to you?”

She didn’t give him a chance to reply and stormed out of the kitchen. He stood there, hand raised and her name on his lips, but she was already gone.

The next morning, Y/N entered the kitchen and was surprised to see everyone already sitting at the table. Lockwood's expression was unreadable, Lucy was smiling in a way that made Y/N worried for what was to come, and George sat slouched on his chair and looked like he'd rather be anywhere else but here. "Sit down, Y/N", Lockwood said and pointed to the last empty chair right next to George. He huffed as Y/N dragged it over the floor to sit as far away from him as possible. "This is an intervention", Lockwood began as soon as she sat. Oh no. "This -" he gestured towards the space between George and Y/N, "can't go on. Tonight, you two go on a case. Together. Just the two of you." 

Y/N stared at him in disbelief, then buried her face in her hands with a sigh. He couldn't be serious. 

"Great idea Lockwood. She's probably gonna get us both killed", George scoffed, crossing his arms as he leaned back. "I don't care. If you gave each other a chance, I think you would get along just fine." 

Lucy leaned forward, a sly smile on her lips. "Actually, I think you'd get along very, very well." 

George scoffed louder, furrowing his brows. "I hope you're not implying what I think you're implying, Lucy." She smirked at him and shrugged. "That's for you to decide, George. Maybe you have some time to think about it tonight."

Y/N looked back and forth between them, and she could feel heat creep up her cheeks. What were they on about? What was Lucy implying?

After dinner, which was spent in tense silence, Lockwood and Lucy set off to their case of the night, leaving Y/n and George behind. This was the first time since Y/n had started working at Lockwood & Co that they were alone. They left the house and climbed into the cab that was waiting at the corner. LISA stared out of the window and watched the rows of houses pass by in the dusk. Many had brightly lit windows and she caught some glimpses of the people that lived there - someone cooking dinner, another person dancing through their living room - and she felt a sense of profound sadness wash over her. When she stepped into 35 Portland Row for the first time, she felt at home immediately. After some rather unpleasant experiences in other smaller agencies, she had been apprehensive about even applying, but it was her last viable option. Lucy and Lockwood had made her feel welcome immediately, and George... well George, after ignoring her for a while, became less welcoming by the day. Lucy had warned her that he could be somewhat stand-offish, but that he would warm up to her quickly, even reassuring her that he'd been the same with her. But he hadn't warmed up at all. She had no idea what she did to make him feel that way, but by now it was glaringly obvious that he could not stand her. 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

When they arrived at their destination, a somewhat run-down apartment building, George grabbed their bag, jumped out of the cab and sped-walked to the entrance, not looking behind him to check if Y/N was following him. For a second she contemplated just telling the cabdriver to take her back to Portland Row, but then she decided against it. No reason to make George hate her even more. 

They entered the elevator, which had seen better days, and stood silently as it made its way up. Y/N stared at her ectoplasm-stained boots in the blotchy mirror, and when she raised her head, she caught George looking at her through the reflection, but he quickly looked away. That was something he did a lot. He never talked to her except with snide comments when she did something he deemed stupid, but she lost count of how often she had caught him looking at her. It made her feel self-conscious in the worst way.

The elevator dinged and they stepped out onto a dimly lit hallway, the few lamps on the ceiling flickering ominously. "Apartment 386", George said curtly and turned to the left. Y/N stuffed her hands in the pockets of her jacket and threw a glance at the hallway behind her before she quickly followed him. He maybe wasn't very pleasant company, but at least she felt safer than if she were alone. 

He didn't wait for her to catch up before he knocked at the door of apartment 386. Just when she came to a halt next to him, the door opened and revealed a small, elderly woman. She smiled brightly as she saw their rapiers and the bag George was carrying. "You must be Lockwood & Co" she exclaimed and opened the door wider. "Come in! I prepared some tea." Y/N looked over to George, who glanced at her and then followed the woman into her apartment. 

It was decorated exactly in the way one would imagine an old lady decorating her living space. Lots of floral patterns, old furniture, and everything looking somewhat dated. On a dresser in the living room stood several picture frames that showed the woman with what was either her son or her daughter, their spouse and two small children that smiled happily into the camera. 

On the dark wooden table in the kitchen, the woman had prepared a steaming kettle of tea, several cups and a heaping plate of biscuits. She gestured to the chairs and scurried back into the kitchen. "Please sit down", she called and when she came back, she was holding a little porcelain box that she put down on the table. "I'm Violet", she introduced herself, smiling. She seemed elated at the thought of Y/N and George keeping her company. 

"So you're Lockwood?" she asked George after he reluctantly sat down on one of the chairs, the pink rose pattern of the upholstery clashing horribly with the orange of his jacket. He opened his mouth but had no chance to get even a single word in because Violet just kept talking. 

"And the delightful young lady?" She set a cup of steaming tea in front of Y/N. "Is that your girlfriend? That's just lovely. You know, I find it horrible that you young folks have to risk your lives every day, it's nice to see that you make the best of it. My grandson is part of an agency as well. Not as small as yours, but also not one of the big ones. Sometimes I don't know what to think of that, but -"

Violet kept talking as she gave George his cup of tea, but Y/N wasn't listening anymore. She was still hung up on what she said about her. George's girlfriend? How did she come to that conclusion? And why did the idea of that not seem that bad? Suddenly she felt hot. She shook her head, trying to fight off these thoughts and get back to the issue at hand. 

When Violet finally stopped talking to take a sip from her tea, George asked quickly: "So, why did you call our agency? What is the problem?" 

"Didn't I already tell you over the telephone?" Violet asked, confused. 

"No, that was Lockwood, our employer." Y/N couldn't help but notice that George corrected her on her assumption that he was Lockwood, but not on the one where she called her his girlfriend. 

"Well, for quite some time I've been hearing scratching in my walls. And sometimes this horrible screaming." She shivered, clearly distraught at the thought. "Wait, you've been hearing it?", Y/N asked. That was impossible. Violet nodded eagerly. "Yes! Almost every night. I've lost so much sleep over this, you wouldn't believe it."

George took off his glasses, polished them on his sweater and put them back on. "Violet... does any of your neighbours have a cat? Or maybe a ferret? Or anything of the sort?" She looked at him, confused. "I think Ms. Fernsby two apartments down has a cat. Why is that important?"

George pinched his nose and took a deep breath, and Y/N could tell that he was trying to hold himself together. "Because whatever you are hearing at night, I can tell you with absolute certainty it's not a ghost. If I were you, I'd call animal control. I believe you've got a cat in your walls."

It took quite some time to convince Violet that the scratching she heard was indeed no malevolent ghost, but probably just the neighbour's cat and to get her to stop trying to offer them one cup of tea after the other. 

When they finally stood in front of the apartment building again, the street was deserted and dark. George had called a cab to bring them back home, and now they waited, leaning against the building wall. Every few minutes, the ghost lamps turned on, bathing their surroundings in cold, green light. 

It was a clear night, no clouds obscuring the stars. Y/N leaned her head back, watching the dark sky. She had her jacket pulled tightly around her body, trying to protect herself from the chilly air. In her peripheral, she could see George fiddle with the zipper of his jacket, glancing over at her every now and then. She wanted to say something, anything, but it felt like her throat constricted every time she opened her mouth. Just then, the cab pulled up and George jumped, grabbing the bag and rushing towards it. 

Twenty minutes later, they stood in front of 35 Portland Row, the backlights of the cab disappearing down the street. George pushed open the wonky gate and climbed up the stairs, setting down the duffel bag with a heavy thud. He started rummaging through his pockets. Y/N watched him check every pocket twice before he turned to her. "Do you have a key?" he asked, and she shook her head. "I thought you had one." 

He rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Of course you did." 

She stood straighter, crossing her arms in front of her. Anger was bubbling up inside of her chest and she had to use every ounce of self-control she had to not scream at him. 

"What is your problem, George? It's not like you brought one! Why do you have to criticise every single thing I do? Why the hell do you act like I'm the stupidest person on earth?"

George threw his hands up, exasperated. "Because you are, Y/N! You are reckless, you have no regard for your safety, and I -"

Before he could end his sentence, the door in front of them got ripped open and Lockwood stood in the frame, raising his eyebrows. "I can't believe it. I send you on a case in hopes you finally get along and what happens? You start fighting right in front of my house!"

George scowled, picking up the bag and walking into the hallway, pushing past Lockwood. "The case was a joke. What did this woman tell you on the telephone? Something about screaming in her wall maybe? Because guess what, that's not a ghost, that's just a bloody cat. And thanks to that I just had to waste an entire evening with her." 

He dropped the bag next to the kitchen entrance and stomped up the stairs. Seconds later, the sound of a door slamming echoed through the house and Lockwood chuckled. "Oh, he's in a bad mood." 

The next few days, George ignored Y/N. Whenever she entered a room he was in, it wouldn't take long for him to leave. If he came into the kitchen and saw her sitting at the table, he would turn around on his heels and leave. At meal times, he acted as if she wasn't even there. And even though Y/N didn't want to admit it, it was starting to eat away at her. 

Three days after the disaster that was their solo case, she came downstairs from her room to get herself a cup of tea. She was about to push open the door, but when she heard the voices of Lucy and George in the kitchen, her hand stopped in mid-air, hovering over the handle.

"She is driving me crazy!" That was George. He sounded exasperated, and she could exactly imagine how he looked right now, hands thrown in the air, eyebrows drawn together in a frown. 

"But why? She's not doing anything. You're just being unfair to her at this point."

"She's just so reckless! She doesn't care for herself and her safety! She's just another Lockwood!" It was silent for a while. "Are you sure that you're not just... worried about her?", Lucy asked softly. "Because you actually do care?"

Y/N leaned closer to the door, her heartbeat quickening. What would George say? "What are you doing there?" Lockwood's voice sounded from behind her and she yelped, losing her balance and pushing the door open. Lucy whipped around and both she and George stared at Y/N, wide-eyed. "I - I didn't mean to -" She was searching for words desperately, her face hot with embarrassment. 

Lucy rose from her seat. "I think you two need to talk", she said, slipping past Y/N and pushing her further into the kitchen. Before she closed the door, she stuck her head in and looked back and forth between them. "You are not leaving until you have talked this out, got it?"

After the door closed, Y/N stood there, nervously shifting her weight from one leg to the other. She was entirely overwhelmed by the situation. 

George was looking everywhere but at her. "What did you hear?", he finally asked. "Not much. Just that I drive you crazy." 

"Yeah, you do! Of course you do. It's annoying enough to have one reckless person in the team, but two is just -", he was searching for words. "I can't be the only one with common sense here!"

Y/N huffed. "How would you know if I have common sense or not? Until now, you've either ignored or insulted me!"

George jumped up, his chair scraping over the floor. "Someone with common sense doesn't throw themselves in front of every single visitor they come across! Without any thought!" 

Y/N made a step forward, that familiar anger stirring inside her. 

"Maybe I wouldn't have to do this if you didn't take every single chance you get to paint me as an incompetent agent! Maybe I wouldn't have to do this if you just accepted me as part of the team like you did with Lucy! What is different about me, huh? Am I really that horrible that you want to bully me out of here? What did I ever do to you?!" 

Y/N had talked herself into a rage, so much so that she was yelling in George's face by the end of it. She hadn't even noticed that she had moved closer to him during her tirade until he gripped her shoulders, making her stop in her tracks.

"Look at me. You drive me crazy, okay?!" His voice was low, and under the sudden intensity of his gaze, all of Y/N's anger melted away and got quickly replaced by a fluster. "I don't know how to handle this, I don't know how to handle you. You just turn up on our doorstep one day, and suddenly, I don't know what to do with myself anymore. Suddenly, I start behaving like an absolute idiot whenever you are around. And then you start throwing yourself in life-threatening situations like an idiot -"

Without thinking, Y/N reached forward, cupped his face with her hands and pulled him in for a kiss. The moment their lips met, he went rigid, and she almost pulled away, the horrible fear of having misread the situation entirely washing over her. But then he seemed to realise what was happening. His hands slid down her arms until they gripped her waist and he pulled her closer to him. Without breaking the kiss, he walked her back a few steps until she collided with the counter. Suddenly, his hands were everywhere, roaming over her back, down to her hips, back to her waist. He was kissing her with such fervour, but at the same time with such gentleness that it was making her feel dizzy. She buried her hands in his curls, eliciting a small gasp from him. She pulled back with a smile, and he looked at her, eyes glazed over, lips puffy from her kisses. 

"Maybe you are the idiot, George."

thanks for reading, feedback is appreciated :)

wanna request something?

[thatfanficstuff]

Not About You - 48

Damon Salvatore x ofc

Lucy’s eyes darted around the dark when she emerged from the bar. Stefan came to a stop in front of her, his brow furrowed. “What are you doing out here? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I just need some time to myself,” she assured him without fully meeting his gaze.

“Okay,” he agreed after a moment. “Be careful.”

“Of course,” she said. He moved past her into the bar and her gaze found Damon. He was looking at her over the top of a car down the street. She watched him lean inside to talk to someone else before he headed in her direction. She met him halfway.

“You okay?” he asked, looking her over.

She shrugged one shoulder. “It will take more than a temperamental hybrid to hurt me, Damon.”

“Yeah,” he said. His voice was low and heavy with sorrow.

Lucy reached out and took his hand in hers. “Are you okay?”

His eyes searched hers and he swallowed. “I miss you, Lucy.”

“I miss you, too.” The words came without thought. Almost as a reflex. She realized instantly that she meant them, however.

“Come home with me,” he begged.

Lucy took a step back and pulled her hand from his. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He dropped his head forward and took a deep breath. “Okay, Luce. It’s fine. I-I need to go. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

She gave a little nod. “Sure, Damon.”

He kept looking over his shoulder as he made his way back to the car, giving her one last wave before he slid inside. Lucy frowned. Why did it hurt so much to watch him drive away? What was she missing?

***

Lucy didn’t return to the others that night. Instead, she kept her distance and watched from afar as Klaus raved at Stefan for letting her leave. She watched as they reunited with the Mikaelson sister. She wasn’t sure what to make of the woman. The next day she trailed them as they went shopping and watched from across the street. Before long, Stefan headed for the door, undoubtedly needing a break. His eyes met Lucy’s through the glass and she gave him a little wave. She stepped out of sight and waited for him to join her.

“Where have you been? Are you all right?” he asked as he found her.

“I’m fine, Stefan. I just…” She ran a hand through her hair and sighed. “I’m unsettled. Something’s wrong with me.”

He hummed in understanding and pulled out an envelope before handing it to her. She grabbed at it, but he kept hold of the other end. “You can’t tell Klaus I gave this to you or he’ll kill Damon.”

She felt slightly nauseous at his words. “I won’t I swear.”

“And I can’t believe I’m saying this, but maybe text Klaus and let him know you’re all right. He’s freaking out.”

Lucy nodded and pulled out her phone. When she turned it on, she ignored her notifications.

Stefan pressed a soft kiss to her head. “I should go. I’ll see you later.”

I’m fine. I’ll find you later, she texted before immediately turning the phone back off. She didn’t want to deal with Klaus right now. The truth was, she’d already forgiven him for the night before. It hadn’t really hurt her when he pushed her aside, but it had shocked her. Her issue now was this unsettled feeling that still filled her. The idea that she was missing something from her life.

Recalling a coffee shop she passed down the street, Lucy made her way to it. After getting herself a large mocha, she settled at a table in the back and opened the letter. She smiled when she saw Damon’s familiar handwriting.

Lucy,

I’m dying and I don’t know where you are. Okay, that’s a little dramatic. Lockwood bit me. All I need is a little blood from our resident hybrid and all will be fine. But Elijah ran off and took both of you with him. It’s killing me that I can’t find you, baby girl. And in case I don’t find you before my time is up, I need to tell you some things.

The moment I first saw you, you took my breath away. Not just your looks. Don’t get me wrong, you were are stunning, but it was your sassy attitude that sucked me in. I knew that I was in for a hell of a ride with you and I wasn’t wrong. And I wouldn’t trade a minute of it for anything.

I love you, Lucy, with every part of my being. I don’t deserve you, I never have and I never will, but I’m keeping you just the same. If this is it for me, baby, just know that you were everything I always wanted. Every miserable moment of my existence was worth it because it brought me to you.

I will love you for all of my life and beyond.

Damon

Lucy read through the letter twice and was reading it for a third time when a voice interrupted. “Are you all right?”

Lucy jerked her gaze up to find an old man with a concerned frown on his face. “I’m sorry?” she asked.

“I asked if you were okay. You’re crying.”

Lucy hadn’t noticed until the stranger pointed it out. She hastily wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Yes, I’m fine. Just some unexpected news.”

She hastily gathered her things and left before any more questions could be asked. She wasn’t sure where she was heading, letting her feet take her where they would while her mind was still on the letter that was now folded and in her pocket. Why would Damon write something like that if they were only friends? And why did she remember so much of their past and so little of her time with Klaus? When she found herself in front of Gloria’s, she wasn’t entirely surprised. After glancing at her reflection in the window to make certain there was no further sign of tears, she opened the door and stepped inside.

“We’re closed,” Klaus’s sister said as Lucy stepped into view.

Klaus glanced up from his drink and his eyes widened. In a flash, he was standing in front of her. His hand cradled the side of her face and she resisted the urge to move away from his touch. His eyes ran over her and a sheen came to them as if he were trying not to cry. “I thought you left me.” His voice broke on the last word.

Lucy’s heart ached for this man in front of her. Surely she truly loved him if she couldn’t stand to see him hurt like this. If she couldn’t stand for him to sound so uncertain. “I just needed a bit of a breather, Nik.”

“I am truly sorry for what happened.” His gaze studied hers as if trying to determine if she believed him or not.

She shrugged one shoulder and forced a small smile. “It was an accident. I know you didn’t mean it.”

He pulled her against his chest and wrapped his arms around her to hold her there. He pressed kiss after kiss against the top of her head.

“I feel as though I’ve missed something, brother. Are you going to introduce me to your little friend?”

Klaus sighed and pulled back so Lucy could see the woman in question. “Lucy, this is my sister, Rebekah. Rebekah, this is Lucy. Be nice.”

“When am I not nice, Nik?” Rebekah asked as her gaze ran over Lucy.

She could almost hear Klaus’s eyes roll.

“And how long have you known my brother?” the female Original asked.

“Long enough,” he answered for her. “Gloria have you found anything?”

“It’s hard to find something when you don’t have anything to go on,” the witch snapped back.

“So use me.” Rebekah moved toward the other woman, Lucy forgotten. “I only wore it for a thousand years.”

“Now see, this one offers a solution.” Gloria took the vampire’s hand in her own.

“What are they looking for?” Lucy asked Klaus.

“A necklace my darling sister seems to have misplaced.” Irritation hung heavy in his words. But that wasn’t what captured Lucy’s attention. No, that would be the slightly panicked look on Stefan’s face. He tried to mask it, but she knew him too well. Whatever this necklace was for, he certainly didn’t want them to find it.   

[francesderwent]

Lucy Carlyle grows up surrounded by people who are already dead.

Jacobs and Lucy’s mother are both dead in one way: fear. Jacobs is afraid of ghosts, the enemy that he can’t see and can’t fight. He covers up his fear with drink and he places others in the line of fire, and the more he does this, the more the losses he does suffer are unable to touch him. He offers Lucy a job because another boy just died; this is lucky: she can have his uniform. The boy who died is left nameless; his possessions are passed on without any sentimentality, his whole existence is just an open slot to be filled with another nameless child who will, more than likely, ultimately meet the same fate. When Lucy feels that everyone is in danger, Jacobs doesn’t pull them out, because their peril doesn’t have the power to move him anymore. When he’s listening to the children scream and die, he does nothing, because his fear for his own skin outweighs anything that could happen to anyone else. He shows no remorse. He lived, and that is all that matters to him.

Mrs. Carlyle’s fear is less obvious, but just as much a driving force. The only thing she is shown to care about is the pursuit of wealth, which is all about security—the idea that no matter what happens you’ll be able to fix it because you will have the money for it, that you’ll never be caught unprepared or left helpless because you have the means to take care of yourself. But like Jacobs, it’s clear that the more she nurtured this fear and tried to protect herself in this one way, the more she became blind to what she was already losing. She so desperately wants the false security of money for her family that she sells her daughter—sells her into an apprenticeship that is the very opposite of secure, that all but guarantees her death at a tragically young age. What is the use of money if her daughter dies? But when Lucy tells her she doesn’t want to be an agent because she’s afraid, her mother cannot have compassion. She has allowed her own fear to consume her so much that she sends her thirteen-year-old daughter to face death without blinking. Only her own fear is real and important. When Lucy is the only survivor of her team, Mrs. Carlyle doesn’t wake up. She cannot be grateful her daughter survived, because she killed the part of herself that would be capable of feeling that loss in her quest to never be afraid.

In both cases, their fear makes them set out to make themselves invulnerable. They cannot let themselves be affected by anything outside them, because that way lies loss and hurt and danger. There are two other groups that appear to us in this way, unable to be affected by anything outside them: ghosts, and the ghost-locked. The ghosts cannot hear Lucy when she tries to make contact with them; they’re trapped in a loop of their own fears and anger, unable to break out, unable to be invited out. This is why the only option is to hold them at bay with iron. All they can do is hurt you—all they can do is trap you in your own deadened state, lost to every external sensation. Norrie meets this fate. She is swallowed up by the ghost-like world of the dead adults that surround them, and she can never feel the touch of anyone else ever again.

Lucy walks away from this world, and straight into Portland Row.

Lockwood obviously has issues around vulnerability. But actually, he is not dead in this way. He does care for George and Lucy. We see that constantly on display, and it’s not a front. Lockwood’s weary gratitude when he’s just been interrogated by DEPRAC and asks George to make dinner, promises to love him forever—that’s real. Lockwood’s panic when Lucy is channeling Annabel—there’s no selfishness or self-protection in that, that’s him worried about her, concerned about her safety. He’s openly desperate when he thinks Lucy is leaving the company; he rushes in with no dignity at all when George is cornered by Barnes and Kipps’ team. Clearly, Lockwood is not afraid to let other people have an effect on him—from the moment Lucy walks in the door he’s letting her write her name on his heart. He literally welcomes George and Lucy into his home.

But the thing is, precisely because he cares about them, he is afraid of losing them—afraid of losing them because he has already suffered loss and knows exactly how devastating it is. But instead of reacting like the deadened adults, instead of refusing to let himself be affected by others, he tries to shield them from being affected by him. He gets close to them; he doesn’t let them get close to him. He doesn’t use them as tools so as to protect himself from feeling their eventual loss; he sees them in all their glory as full human persons and loves them as such. But he won’t appear as fully human to them, in an attempt to protect them from feeling his loss. He tries to be larger than life, he keeps his plans to himself until they’ve already worked, he’s literally always wearing a costume. He is vulnerable to them, lets them into his heart—but he hides his vulnerabilities from them, hides the things that would give them the context to understand him and love him back on equal footing. He lets them into his home, but he doesn’t let them into the room on the landing. He’s not dead, but he’s not whole.

Jacobs and Mrs. Carlyle try to protect themselves at the expense of everything else, even those they should love; Lockwood tries to protect those he loves, even at the expense of himself—even at the expense of his own life. He interposes himself between Lucy and George and danger. He cares about their fate so much that he makes it his own. He doesn’t want to be a person, a friend who can be cherished and lost. He wants to stand between the people he loves and death, running faster than them so he crosses the finish line before them, so they never have to. When Winkman tells him, “I’ll kill her last, so you don’t have to watch,” that is, in a way, what Lockwood’s goal is. He’s horrified and heartbroken by it, but that is what succeeding looks like, according to the way he arranges his life. This is why the DEPRAC agent’s death absolutely breaks Lockwood’s composure, undoes him so thoroughly. Lockwood’s job, his whole purpose is to jump on the grenade. He cannot let anyone else do it. He cannot let anyone take responsibility for him, he cannot let anyone value his life above their own, or the pressure of their sacrifice falls on him like a weight too heavy to carry. When the agent dies for him, Lockwood cannot be larger than life “Anthony Lockwood of Lockwood & Co” anymore, the image starts to choke him. He can’t pull himself back together until Lucy asks him to, until he remembers that she still needs him, that there is still someone for him to save.

He can accept his own death, but he cannot fathom someone else’s. Everybody knows that everybody dies—especially Lockwood. He’s accepted that incontrovertible fact that everyone else is running from. The only part that he’s still running from is the meaninglessness—his family’s deaths were senseless to him and so he’s running headlong toward death in action, because if he has to die, he’s going to do it for a purpose. “There’s ghosts and there’s us, and it’s kill or be killed,” he tells George, and he means it. Those are the terms Lockwood has set for his life and death.

And so, Lockwood appears as a walking memento mori, a reminder of death—not to himself, he needs no reminder, but to everyone else who would rather avoid that reality. Barnes, Flo, Kipps—these are the people who call out his recklessness. They do care about him, to different extents, but they have all also deadened themselves somewhat. Barnes has seen too many agents die, and there’s only so much he can do to protect the ones under his supervision. Flo ran from the ties of society and set up on her own where she wouldn’t have anyone else to lose. Kipps wants to believe that Lockwood & Co are ridiculous amateurs, that the prestige and orderliness of his world at Fittes make him superior to all the agents who lose their lives in the line of duty. They aredeader than Lockwood, because they have not faced the truth of the world the way he has, have not let themselves feel it. He’s a spectre of everything they’re trying to avoid—but because his invulnerability goes the opposite direction, he doesn’t appear dead himself the way Jacobs and Mrs Carlyle obviously do. He’s outwardly fearless of everything that terrifies them, and so he appears alive, even as they’re wondering how he hasn’t died yet.

And here’s the kicker: it’s not completely off base that he seems alive. What makes people dead is fear—and Lockwood has the capacity to be courageous. Chesterton has a salient quote in Orthodoxy: “Courage is almost a contradiction in terms. It means a strong desire to live taking the form of a readiness to die….He must not merely cling to life, for then he will be a coward, and will not escape. He must not merely wait for death, for then he will be a suicide, and will not escape. He must seek his life in a spirit of furious indifference to it; he must desire life like water and yet drink death like wine.” The show isn’t an arc of Lockwood learning not to risk himself, learning to fear for his life and become a coward—it’s an arc of learning true courage, which requires that he value his life enough to only risk himself for things that are really worth it.

This is what only Lucy can see and understand, and this is what she means when she asks Lockwood to be the right amount of reckless—she understands that they have to take risks, that they can’t let themselves become deader than dead in their endless pursuit of self-preservation. But she doesn’t see Anthony Lockwood the walking reminder of death, or Lockwood of Lockwood & Co, the competent and fearless leader. Despite everything Lockwood does to hide from her, she sees him as a person, and a person worth protecting. Facing the Hope House ghost without any iron chains wasn’t worth it—if they lost the job they could have gotten another one. Infiltrating the Winkmans’ shop and then the auction wasn’t worth it—it wasn’t their job alone to retrieve the bone glass, the bet with Kipps was stupid. But if Lockwood had died in that last battle in the cemetery, holding back Winkman and his thugs so Lucy could save George from the bone glass, it would have been a noble sacrifice. He and Lucy agree: if there’s anything worth dying for, it’s George. With her to hold him back, Lockwood has learned not to chase after death in the line of duty—but rather, to chase after loving sacrifice.

By the logic of fairytales (and Christianity), because this time he is really laying down his life for a beloved friend and not throwing it away for an excuse, he doesn’t lose his life, doesn’t become more deadened. He really gains his life. He falls into the grave, and the friends he fell for are there to catch him and bring him back up to the surface. He gets to see the sunshine again, as if for the first time.

Before, his sacrifice couldn’t really be sacrifice, because the two ways that he tried to protect Lucy and George were incompatible. Because he tried to hide himself from them, it was impossible for his placing himself in danger for them to be understood as an act of love. It couldn’t be a gift of self, because he was doing everything possible to ensure that there was no one who knew him well enough to receive it—he was trying to make a gift of that which he had intentionally hollowed out.

But once he chooses real sacrifice, the logic of self-gift is not the logic of death, and so it can guide the whole of his life, not just the dramatic last stand. Lockwood finds himself capable of making a gift of himself: he can let himself be seen. He can place his heart in their hands. He can finally let them into the room on the landing.

Spoilers for books 3 through 5 follow below the cut.

Obviously Lockwood doesn’t get as powerful a callout from Lucy in the first couple books as he does in the show, but I think we do see a more drawn-out version of the same arc play out over the whole series. Lockwood’s recklessness becomes less and less a general disregard for his life; that is why Lucy leaves at the end of book three, because the times he’s come closest to dying were about saving her. At the beginning of the book he nearly breaks his head at the top of the steps diving to save her, and at the end of the book he is nearly torn apart by the poltergeist because he is trying to make sure she gets out. Lucy leaves to save Lockwood, to keep him from making those sacrifice plays—but (this is important) he’s worse without her. Even on page, when he fights the giant’s ghost unarmed, when he infiltrates Winkman’s to get the skull, when he stays behind in Rotwell’s to find out the truth, it’s all with the understanding that Lucy is essentially lost to him. This is a Lockwood who doesn’t have her to die for. What it proves is this: she can’t convince him to value his life by removing herself from the equation. When he doesn’t have someone to care about, a reason to give his life, he falls back on throwing it away. All she can do, she realizes, is be near him, cherish him the way he wants to cherish her: show him that he is as worthy of being sacrificed for as she is. She follows him in Rotwell’s, walks through the iron circle into the other side with him. She goes after Marissa in the final battle, so he doesn’t have to. She stays with him when he tells her to leave.

He's not dead. He’s very alive, precisely because he has not let death isolate and paralyze him, because he has something he loves enough to die for it. But the flip side of that is: in the eucatastrophic moment where Lucy and Lockwood are thrown clear of the explosion, spared the death they have learned not to fear by the one person who feared death more than any of them, Lockwood finds himself in possession of his life. Not from grasping after it with fearful hands, and not from trading it for the life of someone he couldn’t bear to lose. Just given it. And because he has something he loves enough to die for it, when he doesn’t die, he can live for it, too.

[lewkwoodnco]

june gloom - anthony lockwood x reader

“Look,” he bites out, “if you don’t want me here, say the word and I’ll leave.”

“No.” She looks positively alarmed and places a hand on his elbow. “Please. Don’t go. I like having you here.” Her lips twitch like she’s holding back a smile, but the dead look in her eyes only makes Lockwood even more uneasy. “I like seeing you like this. Thinner. Paler. I like watching you watch me.” She tips her head, considering him. “I like watching you look at me like you can never get your fill of me.”

june gloom, tule fog, I might as well say meet me in Montauk

a/n - help I can’t rmb how I used to format these I hope this is (mostly) correct 😭😭 uni is rlly steamrolling me frfr like I have so many WIPs which I planned to finish up first but inspiration struck for this one instead, for some reason?? And I imagine this to pick up where we left off from chapter 3 (the ntwdt fic) so this would be Ch 3.5 but could also be read as a stand alone I think? anyways enjoy a very autumn coded gloomy kind of angsty fic hehe (also do NOT smoke i am not promoting smoking ❌❌)

tropes/warnings - angst, estranged friends, veryyy very mild allusions to cheating (arguably. personally i didn’t write it that way but i guess I could see some ppl interpreting it that way)

word count - 1.6k!

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 3.5 | Ch 3.75 | Ch 4 | Ch 5

Finding an apartment to rent in central London was a bleak affair any time of the year, but something about late October seemed to make it even worse. While she looked for a place of her own, her parents had very kindly agreed to put her up for a couple of days. It was at their kitchen table that she had been pouring over apartment listings one barren, gloomy morning, when she peered out to see a familiar car pulled up outside.

Lockwood didn’t know what he was doing. He had just pulled up to her house five minutes ago, of which he spent four of them sitting in silence with the engine turned off. He dragged his palms across his jeans. He isn’t sure how he ended up here, or why. Lockwood & Co. had been handed the privilege of one miraculously empty weekend without any cases. Its employees had decided to indulge themselves, be it through a long bubble bath or a little tinkering on some model train set. A certain special someone’s birthday was coming up. If Lockwood had half the sense he ought to, he’d be spending the weekend with her. Instead, he got in his car and started driving aimlessly, meandering through slick roads that took him to the outskirts of the city.

Maybe it had been some subconscious desire to see her again that led him here. He hadn’t stopped thinking about their brief crossing of paths from a week ago. He had spent months convincing himself that he thought of her less and less as the days went by, enough to delude himself into thinking there was nothing to regret. After all, how could a guy hung up on an old friend find love like he did? But all it took was one glimpse of her again, and it was like they had spent no time apart at all. It was like he was still the sulky, stubborn boy from that last night months ago, smarting from the words unsaid and the pain in his shin. Sleepless and sick with the want to hear her slip back in, for them to make up by the morning, for them to act like it never happened.

He could pretend to have moved on all he wanted, but the sorrow buried deep into his chest and never quite left. He could feel it now, sitting motionless in his car under a dull, overcast sky.

He should’ve asked her to stay.

He jumps when he hears a tapping on the passenger window. The kind, weathered face of Mrs. L/N peers through, clad in gardening gloves and a wide-brim hat. Lockwood instantly becomes aware of how intrusive his visit must be. He hurriedly unbuckles his seat belt and steps out.

“I’m really sorry Mrs. L/N, I meant to call ahead -“

But she was already waving away his effusively apologetic words. She turns towards the house. “Oh, Y/N, it’s been ages since you’ve seen each other. Wouldn’t it be nice for you to catch up?”

He looks over her shoulder and follows her gaze to the house. There, he sees the hazy image of Y/N standing a few steps down from the front door. The slight fog obscures her expression, but there’s something rigid in the way she has her arms wrapped around herself.

“What Mum said. We’d lo-ove to have you.”

She stretches the word out in an exaggerated London drawl. It almost feels like she’s mocking him. But she’s too far for him to get a close enough look at her face, and by the time he makes his way up the winding driveway, she’s disappeared inside.

It helps that Mrs. L/N joins them. Once she’s set out some tea and scones, she prattles on comfortingly like she doesn’t notice the tension weighing in the air. Save for the occasional nod or one-word answer, they stay mostly silent, occasionally sneaking glances at each other. A part of him likes that they’re in the same house again, with her sitting across from him, fiddling with her mug, laughing a little too loud in a not entirely unpleasant way. But he doesn’t recognise her sweater, and her hair’s different, and her pinched face matches her raw, bitten nails.

Occasionally, she makes some seemingly innocuous remark which sounds a little too much like a jab at Lockwood. He hesitates, like he isn’t sure what to say, but then her lips painfully stretch into what is a sardonic smile at best, and the conversation changes. Still, every few seconds his eyes flick back to her face, of which she takes no notice.

But there’s still only so much Mrs. L/N can fill the silence with, and she eventually excuses herself to return to her gardening. The two of them make it for a grand total of 30 seconds of painful silence before she stands up and murmurs something about stepping out for fresh air.

After a minute, Lockwood leaves the kitchen table himself and goes looking for her. He finds her smoking in the backyard, standing at the fence, staring blankly at the treeline a short distance away.

“It’s a filthy habit.” She pauses, dropping the cigarette from her lips, but refuses to turn around. He walks down to the fence. “I thought you got rid of it.”

“How’d you find me?” How’d you know where I’d be?

Lockwood shook his head slowly, eyes unfocused, staring vacantly at the sparse trees reaching for the blank sky. “I didn’t…I wasn’t looking for you.”

She gives him a curious look. If she finds him unconvincing, she doesn’t comment on it. She takes a long drag from her cigarette. The silence starts to become a little more bearable.

“How’s Luce?”

He gives a stiff sort of half-nod. “Alright. Still more violent than she ought to be.”

“George?”

“He’s good.”

“Head still in the books?”

He frowns. “It’s only been three months. He’s not a different person.”

She shrugs. He can’t stop staring at the grimy cigarette in her hand. Her fingers tremble ever so slightly, finally giving the impression that she wasn’t nearly half as calm as she was trying to seem. “He could’ve…taken up water polo, or something. I wouldn’t know.”

The resentment in her voice was apparent - this was definitely a dig at him. For the first time since she’s left, it crosses his mind that she’s left behind a family. Still, it wasn’t like he had kicked her out.

“You chose to leave.”

“You didn’t give me much reason to stay, either.”

“Because - “

“No.” Her subdued, nonchalant attitude dissolved now that he had gotten a rise out of her. “You don’t get to stand there and judge me for leaving when I was miserable and you did fuck all about it. You’ve been this…this fog in my head since June.“ Her clipped voice burns through the cool air harshly. “You have no right to come running back now that it’s finally starting to clear up.”

Lockwood wonders whether the cigarette might be easier to reason with. His gaze wanders over to his car rusting in their driveway. Coming here was a mistake.

“Look,” he bites out, “if you don’t want me here, say the word and I’ll leave.”

“No.” She looks positively alarmed and places a hand on his elbow. “Please. Don’t go. I like having you here.” Her lips twitch like she’s holding back a smile, but the dead look in her eyes only makes Lockwood even more uneasy. “I like seeing you like this. Thinner. Paler. I like watching you watch me.” She tips her head, considering him. “I like watching you look at me like you can never get your fill of me.”

Lockwood flinches, pulling himself out of her grasp as he reels back, suddenly overcome with a surge of revulsion. There’s something malicious, corrupted, unrecognisable about her. He scoffs as he turns back to the house.

“If she’s so amazing, why are you on this side of town?”

He pauses with his hand on the doorknob. Her voice cuts through the air, jagged and bitter. He turns and sees her grinding the cigarette with the heel of her shoe. She straightens and pushes her hair back with a steady, measured hand, a far cry from the klutz whose stumbling around and whispered shrieks guaranteed to drag a smile on Lockwood’s face. Even now, she doesn’t acknowledge how he hasn’t taken his eyes off of her for more than half a minute all day.

“Happy couples,” he starts, a little half-heartedly, “don’t need to be joined at the hip.”

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t give me that.” She walks up to the house too, and when she pauses by him, he punches down the urge to step back.  

“What are you trying to find out?”

She looks at him dismissively, like she already knows the answer and finds it unimpressive. Then she’s disappeared back into the house, the cold is stinging his face, and his heart’s thumping hard enough to break free of his chest.

He exhales shakily and feels his heart shutter itself away from the rest of the world. He still doesn’t know what he came looking for, but maybe it was to remember what he has clearly forgotten.

Always a problem. They’d always be a problem.

TAGLIST: @neewtmas @midnight--raine @ahead-fullofdreams @how-to-stuff-and-things @cielooci @mohinithoughts @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @elenianag080 @avdiobliss @houseoftwistedspirits @mischivana @dangelnleif @mitskiswift99

[artyandink]

the girl that kindness forgot | 3

I CAN’T ADMIT WHAT I FEEL IN FRONT OF HIM

Quote of the chapter: “After all that’s happened, it’s worth everything.”

…

“Miss Hernandez?” I coughed, feeling hands gripping me by the arm. “We’re with DEPRAC. Can you confirm you’re Miss Hernandez?” 

“Yes.”

”Rise and shine, sis.” I opened my eyes, spotting my brother at the door. 

“Hey, Turstin.” I groaned, rubbing my forehead. 

“I found out you were escorted here along with your old mate Lockwood and a new one; I think her name is Lucy Carlyle? Anyway, they wanted me to visit you.” 

“Visited. Now, if you excuse me, I need to get back into work.” I replied, shimmying into my trousers under my god-awful hospital gown. I ripped the wires off my arm, pulling the gown over my head. Turstin stared at me, eyes wide and horrified, so I paused and chuckled. 

“Come on, I’m wearing my sports bra. You’ve seen me working out in it.” 

“Still painful to watch.” 

“To you. To other’s it’s God’s gift.” I pulled my crop top on, slinging my jacket around me. “Do you know where he could be?” 

“Nah, but I have instructions to drop you to his house.” Turstin waved my Tesla keys, “So, wanna ride?” 

I couldn’t help but smile. Ever since our family’s misfortune, I’d been pushing Turstin away as I tried to manage SP3CTR. But despite that, here he was, ready to drive me home. “Yeah, I’d love to.” He slung an arm around my shoulder, grinning. 

“That’s the Artemis I know.” He laughed. “I know you’ve been under pressure ever since our parents. But I’m always here for you, yeah? I know the Arty underneath all this business-like exterior, and you’ll always be my sister.”

”Thanks, Turstin.” I beamed, leaning into my taller brother, who stood at 5’ 11” while I stood at 5’ 7”. 

“No problem. You’re my little sis.” 

“Not biologically, cause you’re adopted.” 

“Still counts.” 

I waved goodbye to Turstin, ascending the steps to the house and rapping on the door. 

“Lockwood, I swear, I’m going to kill-“ George stopped when he saw me, and mirrored a wide grin I had on my face. “Artemis?” 

“George!” We hugged each other hard, laughing. “It’s been so long.” 

“It really has. Come in, I need to make you some coffee and catch up.” He closed the door behind me, rushing into the kitchen and starting to make the coffee. “Things have been falling apart since you left, and you look so different. With the-“ He pointed to his head, indicating the white streaks dotted around my hair, “- and the -“ He gestured to my muscular stature, looking limb and flexible, “- and you’re a few inches taller too! Anthony can’t tease you about your height anymore.” 

“And I am very glad he can’t.” I giggled. 

“Does he know you’ve come back?” 

“He knows, all right.” I was handed my coffee, and as soon as I sipped it, I gasped. “You remembered?” 

“Like it was yesterday. Strong coffee, two dashes of milk, two tablespoons of caramel syrup and a sprinkle of cinnamon. I would add whipped cream but we’re out, so…” 

“No, George, this is amazing.” We sat down, happily chatting. 

“So, how did you end up being the CEO of SP3CTR?” He asked. 

“My entire family got ghost locked.” I revealed, earning a sympathetic look. “Somehow Turstin and I survived, but it required me to take the mantle since I was the biological child. Most relatives died from heart failure due to shock, and some are still fighting.” 

“That must be horrible.”

”It’s-“ 

“GEORGE!” I heard a male voice yell, and a female voice yelp from upstairs. Lucy must already be home. And hurrah, Lockwood is too. He opened the door, looking a little annoyed. “Glad to see you two are getting along after all this time. I’d say like a house on fire but-“ 

“This is no time for amenities.” I snapped. He was irritating me so much, bloody hell. 

“Why didn’t you wait?” He asked, fist clenching and unclenching. 

“Because there was no need to.” I replied.

“I can’t deal with this right now, I need to sleep. George, if you could make that gourmet sabzi, with a shedload of rice, I’d love you forever, mate.” 

I snorted. “As if.” 

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.” He left, and I rolled my eyes. 

“You turned your positive emotions on and off like a switch there. What’s your problem with him? And don’t get me wrong, he has a serious problem with you, I’m just yet to find out what exactly is the problem here.” George questioned.

“Anthony Lockwood almost cost me my life. And what’s more is that he blames me for it. So yes, huge problem.” 

“Can’t you try and make it up to him? You know, don’t be such a Stoic Sally when he’s around? Maybe he’ll come to an understanding.” 

“I can’t admit what I feel in front of him. Pfft, I can’t even show feelings.” I mocked. “It’s Anthony John Lockwood. Show feelings and you’ll be deemed weak.” 

“You’ll be surprised. He’s an idiot, yes, but he’s not a rock.” 

•´¨*•.¸¸.•*´¨•.¸¸.•´¨*•.¸¸.•*•´¨•.¸¸.•´¨`•.¸•´¨*•.¸¸.•*´¨•.¸¸.•´¨*•.¸¸.•*•´¨•.¸¸.•´¨`•.¸

I knocked on Lucy’s bedroom door, opening it. “It’s just me.” 

“Hey.” She answered quietly. 

“I figured we hadn’t bonded much, so I snuck some snacks up here. The biscuit rule doesn’t apply when it’s just us, by the way.” I winked, putting down a packet of Sour Patch Kids, Toxic Wastes, Walkers crisps and chocolate Digestive biscuits. I ripped open a Toxic Waste packet and popped one in my mouth, unflinching at the sour taste. She took a biscuit, biting into it delicately.

“Did you get your hair dyed?” She asked, looking genuinely interested. 

“No. I survived a ghost touch somehow. It took some colour out of my hair, and affected me. You know your affiliation to connect with the dead?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I can connect with the dead and the living. Right now, I know that you’re wondering how biscuits are so delicious.” She giggled, covering her mouth. 

“That’s true.” 

“And when I connect with Lockwood, all I can see is himself, or me when he’s having his annoyed thoughts, and George’s is full of research and strangely tea.” I was making a good friend in Lucy, at least I think I am. “How d’you end up here?” 

“Can you promise not to tell anyone? It’s really bad.” She begged, so I nodded. 

“Yeah, you can tell me anything.” 

“My friends, most of them, from my old company, they died in a vicious ghost attack, and one went into ghost lock. My leader was right there. He could’ve helped me, but instead he ran and blamed everything on me. So I had to leave. I couldn’t stay; my mother didn’t believe me, my own friends didn’t believe me-“ 

“I do, if that’s worth something.” 

For the second time, I saw Lucy smile. "After all that's happened, it's worth everything."

TAGLIST:

@superpositvecloudshipper

[gffa]

I'm really glad you're enjoying the lockwood and co books and series so far!! they're very special books to me and my friends, i remember reading them when i was 16 and absolutely adoring them, they;re just SO GOOD.

one thing i've really enjoyed about the series is the very clear depictions of issues of class and worker's rights, and its one reason i want to reread the books again, because those just went completely over my head as a kid and i want to see how the series and books depictions differ. jonathan stroud had a very close hand in the production of the series so im curious to see how his now 10 year old books and attitudes in them hold up. Anyway, i was curious if that was something that was also as obvious to you as it was to me? my mum's English and i grew up with a kind of baseline understanding of english class struggles (despite the fact that she's from the south and grew up relatively rich) and the attitudes in England surrounding worker's rights and unions and so on, so its always interesting me to see how other people see these issues and how they're presented in media.

for example i absolutely love the casting choices of all the main characters, i think they really perfectly exemplify the struggles portrayed in the books that something as big as The Problem would affect on all working levels, including the class of children which honestly i find is a class of people that goes overlooked a Lot in stories, or at least in the way jonathan stroud does it. Lucy and lockwood are both excellently portrayed i think, and their intrinsic struggles to connect and attitudes are products of their upbringings and backgrounds and i think the series does an excellent job of portraying that (as much as I can say this without revealing spoilers hgjkfdls), with lucy being a northern working class girl from a poor family and lockwood, despite not having a close family, being raised objectively middle class and having relatives who go hunting.

anyway its!!! very good!!! i think the series is a fantastically faithful adaptation of the themes and ideas of the books so far, and also almost every setting looks EXACTLY how i pictured it which makes me absolutely feral hjgfkdsl

but yes idk if this makes much sense but aaahh I'm glad you're enjoying it all!! i really can't wait to see what you think of the second book and the rest of the series!!

also cos im curious: did you read the book before watching the series? and if not, do you think the series holds up as a story in its own right without needing the background of the books to watch it? cos while i think it's a brilliant adaptation I'm wondering how well it plays out as a story on its own without having to read the books first

I'm delighted at how many Lockwood & Co. fans there are, I’d never heard of the books before the Netflix adaptation, but it seems like there’s a bunch of you!  It’s lovely to be able to discuss things already even if I’m not sure I’ll have a lot to add just yet, since I’m only on episode 5 of the adaptation and halfway through the first book. (I didn’t want to burn through the episodes too quickly because it’s such a charming series, so I decided to switch back and forth between them and the books, which helps keep my memory fresh of the show when I read the books, so I can take note of the differences.  There are some differences, but ones that generally seem like really good ideas for a TV series adaptation, like I already like the tweaking of George’s character and I really loved the Norrie backstory.) I don’t know that I would have clocked the class theme on my own--but I’m not that far into any of it yet, though, I know how the first book turns out, of course--I can’t say that I felt it was necessarily a strong theme in the adaptation in the sense that it was driving the plot, but it is very much there, Lucy’s character is very much that of a working class type of character.  And, when you mentioned it, I can pick up on it in the book as well, especially as I’m just getting to the introduction of John Fairfax commissioning the team for a case. I’m also not sure where I’m going to land on the aspect of having children with so much more autonomy given to them, like the scene where Barnes comes by and they’re just totally blase about how he’s trying to tell them to be careful, openly laughing about how worked up he seems after he leaves, just struck me as very “this is a series aimed at young readers so it’s going to have young kids as protagonists, it’s not meant to be taken super seriously as commentary on 15 year olds being allowed to run their own agencies”, but other times the consistency (and Barnes’ comments from the adaptation) of how characters who have faded talent are treated make me think that, once you get a bit outside Lucy’s perspective, that maybe there is something to the idea that there’s commentary on these kids having this tremendous burden placed on them. Right now, the concept of adult supervision seems to be set up as an obstacle to be overcome, that Lockwood & Co. are freedom because they refuse to work with adults, but how much of that is because of course they would think that?  Lucy’s whole backstory is that she never had parents who took care of her or were involved in her life, just punished her and used her for her talent, so of course she’d view them that way. Anyway, I’m looking forward to getting further in so that I’m not just half-baking my thoughts on the themes and might actually have stronger views on things!  And as long as people avoid spoilers, I would love to hear commentary on what kind of themes to be watching for!

[maximumwobblerbanditdonut]

‘Suspect’ Season 2: Dominic Cooper, Tamsin Greig, Eddie Marsan & More Join Channel 4-Britbox International Drama Series

By Jesse Whittock

November 15, 2023 7:20 am

Dominic Cooper, Tamsin Greig and Eddie Marsan are among the names joining Anne-Marie Duff on season 2 of Channel 4 and BritBox International drama series Suspect.

Filming on the drama’s second run is underway, with Vinette Robinson (Boiling Point, The Lazarus Project), Eddie Marsan (The Thief, His Wife and the Canoe, Ray Donovan), Celine Buckens (Showtrial, The Ex-Wife), Nicholas Pinnock (Top Boy, For Life) and Gina McKee (Bodyguard, Our Friends in the North) joining Cooper (Preacher, Mamma Mia!), Greig (Friday Night Dinner, Belgravia) and Marsan (The Thief, His Wife and the Canoe, Ray Donovan).

Duff (Bad Sisters, The Salisbury Poisonings) stars in the series as Dr Susannah Newman. In the eight-part series, she is on a desperate quest to track down a self-confessed serial killer before he kills again that night. When a mysterious new client Jon (Cooper) admits under hypnosis that he is a murderer and intends on killing another young female that evening, Susannah knows he must be stopped at all costs.

I’m so pleased to be returning to Suspect to be able to dig deeper into the character of Dr Susannah Newman,” said Duff. “Expect lots of twists, turns and revelations alongside more questions to be answered. I can’t wait for viewers to see what we’ve done with the second series.”

Suspects comes from Professor T and Before We Die producer Eagle Eye Drama and is written by Joy Wilkinson (Lockwood & Co, The Watch) and David Allison (The Couple Next Door, Marcella). It is for UK network Channel 4, whose outgoing Head of Acquisitions Nick Lee bought it, and co-produced by BritBox International for the U.S. and Canada. The eight-part drama is being distributed internationally by Fremantle and will air in 2024.

Ben Wadey, Channel 4 Drama Commissioning Executive said: “We’re thrilled to be working with Eagle Eye Drama again to be bringing back Suspect for a second series. With Anne-Marie Duff returning as Dr Susannah Newman plus a truly spectacular ensemble cast that includes Dominic Cooper, Tamsin Greig and Eddie Marsan, Channel 4 viewers are truly in for a ride when this hits our screens.”

Reemah Sakaan, CEO BritBox International and executive producer added: “I am absolutely delighted that such a stellar ensemble cast is joining the incredible Anne-Marie Duff to tell the next chapter of Suspect Season 2. Joy Wilkinson and David Allison have delivered brilliant scripts and I know our BritBox International viewers in the US will be gripped from start to end.”

Carolina Giammetta (Before We Die, Hollington Drive) will direct. Eagle Eye’s Jo McGrath and Walter Iuzzolino are the executive producers and Dylan Rees (Heartstopper, Alice & Jack) is the series producer. Sakaan and Stephen Nye are the executive producers for Britbox International, which acquired the series following a deal brokered by Fremantle’s Lisa Honig, EVP Distribution North America.

Suspect is adapted from the Danish original Forhøret (Face to Face), which was created by Christoffer Boe and written by Christoffer Boe and Anna Juul. The original series was produced by Miso Film, a Fremantle company, and executive produced by Boe, Jonas Allen and Peter Bose who also serve as executive producers on Suspect.

The series has been produced in association with Happy Duck Films and the Belgian Tax Shelter. Fremantle handles global sales.

SH is not in “Suspect” 2 in association with Happy Duck Films🦆 his character seems to still be in a very deep stage of coma since Suspect 1 💁‍♀️

The interesting thing is there are various British actors who have played relevant character parts, a competent group to work with Happy Duck Films. The actors who pivot from films to TV or the other way around are large. As you can see there are plenty of choices.😉

Dominic Cooper is so talented, he's very witty. So a perfect package! his Ian Fleming role was his best.

[thatfanficstuff]

Not About You - 28

Pairing: Damon Salvatore x ofc

warnings: torture, dead people, katherine

a/n: so it’s been a minute. sorry. not edited but I wanted to get it posted. future parts should be coming faster. 

After a long beat of silence, Caroline frowned. “What? It was just a joke.”

“No, it was an idea,” Stefan said.

“A great idea,” Damon added.

Lucy rolled her eyes. Normally she’d try to talk them out of it, but to be honest, Mason deserved it. “Have fun I guess,” she said grabbing Caroline’s hand. “’We’re going to get some lunch. I’m starving.”

She didn’t wait for a response as she dragged her blonde bestie to her car. Caroline kept her eyes on Lucy but didn’t say anything until they were pulling out of the drive. “You’re seriously okay with this?”

Lucy shrugged. “He almost got our boys killed. He got me shot. Yeah, I’m good with it.”

Caroline studied her for a moment longer before nodding in agreement and turning to look out the window.

They were nearly through with their quick lunch when Lucy’s phone rang. Stefan. “What’s up?” she answered.

“Bonnie and I are meeting at the well on the Lockwood property. We think that’s where Mason stashed the stone,” he said.

“We’re trusting witchy again, why?”

He sighed. “Not now, Lucy. I need you to come home to make sure Damon doesn’t get carried away.”

Lucy rolled her eyes and hung up the phone. Why Stefan thought she was the person for this job, she had no idea.

“I’m going to meet Stefan and Bonnie,” Caroline said as soon as they stepped outside and she was gone before Lucy could even respond.

Annoyance flared through her. They were supposed to stay together for safety but whatever. Lucy had been in a mood most of the day. She didn’t like being out of the loop. And she hated having to get up to help Caroline with her pet projects. The blonde better be glad Lucy loved her so much.

With a sigh, Lucy started her car and drove home. Screaming greeted her when she walked in the door. Entering the living room, she saw Mason Lockwood chained to a chair while Damon shoved something in his face. From the looks of it, it was wolfsbane. Jeremy Gilbert stood nearby watching everything. She shook her head in slight disbelief.

“Damon, what are you doing?”

He looked up in surprise. “Hi Sweetheart. I’m just trying to get some information out of wolfie here. I need to know what Katherine is up to.”

She snorted. “Probably hiding from my uncle. You can’t just torture people, Damon. It’s rude.”

Jeremy huffed a laugh and she gestured in his direction. “And what is baby Gilbert doing here?”

The teenager scowled. “Don’t call me that.”

Damon’s gaze narrowed in annoyance. “He keeps putting himself in the middle of things. Thinks its his business. It isn’t.”

“Aren’t you a vampire?” she asked. Just compel the idiot kid to leave them alone.

The corner of his lip curled in amusement. “Vervain.” Damn it. That meant they couldn’t eat him either. Not that the thought had even crossed Lucy’s mind.

Her gaze flicked from her boyfriend to Jeremy. “Go home, little Gilbert. This isn’t for you.”

When he hesitated, she scowled. “Now or I’ll call your sister and you’ll have to deal with her being glued to your ass.”

He rolled his eyes and put up his hands. “Fine. Geez.”

Her eyes trailed him until he was gone.

“Great. Could you let me go now?” Mason said, breaking the quiet.

Damon backhanded him, making the chair rock. “What is Katherine up to? Why is she in town?”

“She’s here for me, okay?” the werewolf yelled. “She came with me. She loves me.”

“Well, that’s a lie. She’s been lurking around town and interfering long before your brother died. Sorry, Mason, but it seems as per usual, the bitch lied,” Lucy said.

The wolf scowled. “Don’t call her that.”

Lucy shrugged. “Okay, what would you prefer? Heifer, cunt, harpy, hussy, slag, cum-dumpster, jealous pathetic self-centered troll? I’m sure I can keep going if you need more options.”

Mason sneered but wisely kept his mouth shut.

“Where’s she staying? That’s all I want to know. Then I can ask her these questions.” Damon was doing his best to sound reasonable. He wasn’t fooling anyone.

Mason shook his head. “Look man, I’m not telling you anything. I love her.”

Damon patted his shoulder and leaned down to talk to him. “I know you do. I’ve been there. But see, the thing about Katherine is she can’t love anyone. She’s going to end up ripping your heart out. Maybe, I’ll do it for her.”

A moment later, he held the wolf’s heart in his hand. Lucy blinked at him. “Was that really necessary?”

“No.” He shrugged. “But it will piss Katherine off.”

Damon had just finished rolling the werewolf’s body up in the tarp when Stefan appeared moonstone in hand. He was followed by Caroline, Lexi, Bree and Lee, Lexi’s boyfriend.

Lucy was immediately tackled onto the couch by Lexi. “Lucy!”

“Sexy!”

Damon rolled his eyes though he still wore his typical smirk. “Hands off my girl, Lexi.”

She stuck her tongue out at the other vampire and tugged Lucy into her side, keeping an arm around her shoulders. “All this hassle is over that?” Lucy asked, gesturing to the moonstone.

Stefan hummed in agreement. “Apparently.”

She nodded as she sent off a text. She received a response almost immediately. “Elijah says he’s waiting on you and to bring the stone.”

The brothers exchanged a look before racing off up the stairs.

Lucy patted Lexi’s leg before pushing herself up to pick up Mason’s wallet and phone that Damon had left on the floor. The phone rang just as she grabbed it. The contact information was nothing but a heart emoji. Hmm.

“Mason’s phone. Can I help you?”

“Who is this?” The voice unmistakably belonged to one of the doppelgangers but Lucy doubted Elena had Mason’s number.

“Who is this?” she asked back.

“His girlfriend.”

“You know, Katherine, for someone with a boyfriend you’re awfully possessive of your exes.” No sooner had the vampire’s name left her lips than both Salvatores were at her side. Damon pulled the phone from her hand.

“Don’t piss her off,” Stefan hissed at his brother.

Lucy blinked at him in disbelief and gestured to the body at her feet. “A little late for that don’t you think?”

“Hello, Katherine,” Damon all but purred.

Lucy frowned at no longer being able to hear the other side of the conversation. Bree smirked and wiggled her fingers toward the phone. Suddenly, Lucy could hear everything. She smiled in thanks at her favorite witch.

“Where’s Mason, Damon? I won’t ask again.”

“Calm down. He’s right next to me. Of course his heart’s on the other side of the room.” Lucy elbowed her boyfriend in the ribs. That was mean. Funny…but mean.

“How dare you,” Katherine snarled.

“Well, now you can just leave town, can’t you? Bye. See you later. Don’t come back.”

“Do you honestly think I don’t have a plan B? or a plan C or…well, you know how the alphabet works.”

“A plan for what?” Lucy asked, knowing the vampire would be able to hear her.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Katherine answered. “Stay out of my way. All of you. I’m warning you.”

With that she hung up the phone.

“Bitch,” Damon muttered before slipping the phone into his pocket. Lucy handed over the wallet so he could take that as well. He pulled Lucy into his arms and gave her a sweet kiss. “We’re going to help your uncle. We’ll be back as soon as we can. Behave.”

“Yes, because I’m the trouble maker. Besides you got me babysitters. I’ll be fine.”

He hummed in agreement and gave her one more kiss before pulling away. The brothers headed toward the door until Lucy’s voice stopped them. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Damon turned back to her, his brows lifted in question.

She gestured to the body at her feet. “Take your mess with you.”

[kiss-my-freckle]

– Bennet Burial Grounds –

Bonnie Bennet: Wow, this is wacky! Two shows in a row opening with a weird witchy dream! I really need to lay off the tacos!

Klaus: I think you need to lay off the living! Fangs!

– Bennet Burial Grounds – Six Feet Under –

Bonnie Bennet: This is less than ideal! But at least I can use my magic to get out of this fix! “Though success is mostly a stranger, magic get me out of danger!”

The Magic Coffin of Not Opening: Doesn’t open.

Bonnie Bennet: Poop.

Abby Bennet Wilson: Hi Bonnie! For some reason the spirits of a hundred dead witches are sending you on a useless quest that will put you in danger and give Klaus exactly what he wants! If I didn’t know better, I’d say they were trying to get rid of you!

Bonnie Bennet: Mommy!

– Mystic Falls Home for Immolated Wiccans –

Bonnie Bennet: Hi Elena! Stefan swore me to secrecy and made me promise to never ever tell you where the coffins were, but I’ve been having really bad dreams and last week I learned that bad dreams get better when you don’t ignore them so I figured the best way to get a solid night’s sleep would be to tell you all of our plans!

Elena Gilbert: Great! Hold on, just let me check in to FourSquare!

Elena Gilbert’s FourSquare: Elena Gilbert checked in to The Super Secret Hiding Spot for Klaus’ Daggered Siblings, 123 Fourth Street, Mystic Falls, VA.

Stefan Salvatore: Facepalm.

– The Gilbert House – Research and Revelations –

Elena Gilbert: Hi Bonnie! I asked the Sheriff to hunt down every single Abby Bennet in the country! And since everyone in this town does exactly what I tell them to, she said yes!

Bonnie Bennet: Thanks Elena! Your talent for manipulation came in really useful this week!

Damon Salvatore: You want to talk about manipulation? All I have to do is loook in to someones eeeeys and they’re all like “sure Damon anything you want Damon here’s Abby’s address Damon and her social security number and her driver’s license and her finger prints and her bank accounts and please bite me you’re so handsome and dashing and cool!” So let’s go on a road trip!

Elena Gilbert: Damon, no! Bonnie is going to meet her mother for the first time in fifteen years, and this situation is delicate and gentle and fluffy and you’re rash and sarcastic and cut oh yeah baby your abs are so cut let me see you abs no I mean I’m a good girl and you’re a bad boy and we can’t kiss again that would be wrong!

Bonnie Bennet: o_0

The Lady of the Manor: Wait, Bonnie has a mother? Is Bonnie getting a plot line?

– Chateau Forbes – Painful Plans –

Tyler Lockwood: Hi Caroline! Sorry about almost murdering you last week! But I have a great plan to fix this whole Sire-bond thing!

Caroline Forbes: Great! What are you-

Tyler Lockwood: I invited your vampire-hating, werewolf loathing, torture-obsessed father over for diner! And bondage!

Caroline Forbes: Why does my life always suck?

Neville the Corgi: Something about that boy intrigues me!

– Mystic Grill – Murder Mystery –

Alaric Saltzman: Thanks for having lunch with me Meredith! But I’m really worried about falling into the friend zone, and my penis is really worried about never meeting your lady bits, so maybe next time we could do dinner instead!

Meredith Fell: Okay!

Damon Salvatore: Hi Alaric! Who’s the hot girl?

Alaric Saltzman: That’s Doctor Fell! Her ex says she’s a complete psycho, and you know what that means … she’s gonna be a tiger in the sack!

Damon Salvatore: Speaking of psycho, do you think she might be the kind of girl who would drive a stake into a guy’s chest and leave him laying in the woods?

Alaric Saltzman: Why do you say that?

Damon Salvatore: Oh, no reason.

– Castle Salvatore – Dangerous Games –

Klaus: Hi Stefan! My hybrids have all left town, so I want to know what I have to do to get my family back!

Stefan Salvatore: Well, you could try pissing off and calling again in a few years! And if you make one move, I’ll-

Klaus: Okay, son, this whole “crazy Stefan with nothing to lose” thing has been cute, but let’s be real. You’ve had six months to practice your whole man on fire routine, but I’ve had a thousand years to get really good at causing chaos, mayhem, and pain in extraordinarily creative, terrifying ways. So if you really think you can out bad-guy me? Let’s go.

Stefan Salvatore: …Crap.

– Highway to Hell –

Elena Gilbert: Let’s talk about your mama!

Bonnie Bennet: Let’s talk about your Damon!

Elena Gilbert: Let’s talk about literally anything else ever!

Bonnie Bennet: Was it good?

Elena Gilbert: That doesn’t matter!

Bonnie Bennet: That means it was! He kissed you and you loved it! You want more! You want to hug him! You want to kiss him! You want to have his babies!

Elena Gilbert: Doesn’t this car have some product placement features we could discuss?

The Lady of the Manor: He’s Damon, of courseit was good. Seriously, that girl is dumber than a rock. An especially dumb rock.

Stefan Salvatore (on the phone): Hi guys! Just wanted to make sure you aren’t on your way to do anything stupid!

Elena Gilbert (on the phone): Nope! We’re heading up to the lake house to take a break from all of the crazy!

Bonnie Bennet: Hey, you didn’t leave my mom’s picture and address and social security number laying on your kitchen table by any chance, did you?

Elena Gilbert: Probably not!

– Mystic Grill – Profitable Public Relations –

Klaus (on the phone): Hi Wally! You know what’s great about having the entire Mystic Falls government playing for my team? Whenever Elena comes by and asks for very odd pieces of information, they give me a call! And on a totally unrelated note, I have a little job for you …

Wally the Werepire: Woof!

Neville the Corgi: He also intrigues me!

– Abby’s Home for Retired Wiccans –

Wally the Werepire: Hi Abby! I need you to look into my eyes …

Neville the Corgi: I wanna be a werepire! I’d compel you to give me endless cookies!

Jamie: Hi guys! What can I do for you?

Bonnie Bennet: Nothing nothing at all we were just leaving sorry to bother you got to go goodbye!

Elena Gilbert: Super Elena disappointed face powers activate!

Bonnie Bennet: Abby’s my mom.

Jamie: Another one? Well, you might as well come inside.

Bonnie Bennet: So Jamie, are we related?

Jamie: Nah, I just crash on your mother’s house. She’s really hot, and I’m kind of a cougar hunter.

lmfao! I'm currently working on these episodes now.