#givemea-dam-break

[givemea-dam-break]

daughters of the evening

⭒⭒⭒⭒ in which luke’s descent from good may be found.

pairing: luke castellan x (fem) reader

a/n: hey guys!! first fic in a while and i know, i know, pjo book readers are disappointed in me… but i’m just a girl! i’m literally just a girl! please enjoy my brain baby i love her :) i love writing quests so much, so this was really nice to write for my first fic back on tumblr. i hope you guys enjoy! if anybody wants to be added to my pjo taglist, let me know!

warnings: canon typical violence, book spoilers, blood/injury description, rusty writing

words: 5.8K ⭒⭒⭒⭒

(y/n) couldn’t remember when the change in Luke became permanent.

She could remember the hints of something at the corners of his eyes, something that bit at the happiness that filled them, eating away at it like rot on wood. She could remember the slow decline in his respect for his father, respect that had barely been there for years, though was now bridging on outright disrespect.

She could remember the crux of it all, the very moment in which all of the little things began to coalesce into something ugly. A flash of claws, the deep scarlet of mortal blood followed by shimmering gold ichor. The horrible sound of screaming. Gleaming fruits of gold. Gorgeous, blooming green trees towering above them that concealed the violence below.

It was after the quest that Luke, her Luke, was never the same.

⭒⭒

“I don’t remember San Francisco looking like this.”

Luke’s lips curled into a smile. “You’ve never been to San Francisco.”

(y/n) rolled her eyes. “I’ve seen it in movies through which I have lived vicariously. It’s in one of the Indiana Jones’s, right? Looks different.”

“Those movies are from the eighties,” Luke said. “So, yeah, it’s going to look different.”

Charles Beckendorf, their questmate, heaved a sigh. “Do you guys ever stop?”

“Stop what?” (y/n) asked.

“Being annoying? Flirting? Whatever you want to call it.”

Her face felt awfully hot and she found herself unable to even look in Luke’s general direction. It was a comment that had been made many times in the past, one she was sure Luke was sick to death of, but she found herself yearning for comments like it. They meant that maybe she wasn’t dreaming up something between them.

Either way, she didn’t acknowledge it, rather stuffing her hand into her unzipped backpack and scrounging around until finally she found what she wanted. With a dramatic flair, she revealed three paper maps, each embellished with their names written in colourful pen at the top.

A moment of silence, then Luke said, “Why do we need a map each? Can’t we just share? And where did you even get those?”

“I got them back in Salt Lake City, before we happened upon that massive crab, you remember the one? All blue and slimy.” She pressed the maps into their hands. “There are multiple because knowing you both, you’ll lose them and I’m not buying any more. But, look! They’re colour-coded. Green for me because, duh, Demeter. Orange for Beckendorf, red for you. We can at least make this quest for some stupid apples interesting.”

Beckendorf raised a brow, giving her a strange look. “With glittery gel pen?”

“Glittery gel pen makes everything better,” she insisted. “I’m glad you acknowledge that. Now, come on. With all this talking you two have been doing, we don’t have much time to spare. You’re like a pair of gossiping grannies.”

The two shared a look over her head, one they thought she didn’t see, but it only made her hold back a laugh. They were a relatively upbeat group as it was, but she prided herself on keeping the mood light, especially when danger was looming. With the might of glittery gel pens, a travel-size game of Monopoly, and a cheesy puns book they had picked up off the side of the road, they would be unstoppable should their enemies need a good laugh.

It wasn’t that they weren’t capable of what was ahead of them that she felt the need to joke around, it was just her regular nerves. The three of them were experienced and powerful demigods, skilled fighters and strategists, the best of the best. Luke had his immense skill with a sword and the mind of a trickster; Beckendorf had the brains and strength of a blacksmith, and could sense a trap a mile away and disarm it in moments; (y/n) herself was a powerful daughter of Demeter and, though not to the standard of Luke, was also skilled with a sword.

They hadn’t faced much trouble before. They were a tried-and-tested trio, having been on multiple quests together in the past and finding themselves working well together. 

This time, it seemed like a match made by the Fates. A quest ordained by Hermes, Luke’s father, to retrieve the Apples of Immortality from the Garden of the Hesperides - gardens and plants being the domain of Demeter and, by extension, (y/n). And, no doubt, there would be many traps or the need for a strong mind, hence Beckendorf. He was a year or two younger than she and Luke, but had proved himself upon countless occasions. She trusted him with her life.

Almost a week now they’d been on this quest, and still she felt like a giddy child. Almost seventeen and, at her big age, she was holding back smiles and giggles befitting of a schoolgirl with a crush. Part of it was gratefulness that a demigod such as Luke had chosen her to join him on this quest, even after being friends for years and having gone on numerous quests together already. Part of it was simply that she was madly in love with the boy.

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, then, watching the way the afternoon sun gleamed on his face, setting his dark eyes alight with flame. There was a curious smile on his lips, one that concealed mischief and intelligence; one she had loved for as long as she could remember. His hair was messy after days of travelling and not bothering to fuss with it - she dreaded to think of what her own looked like, the only mirror she had being her sword - but there was something so extremely endearing about it. Wild curls that gave his lightly-freckled face even more life.

Their maps didn’t help their hunt for the Garden an awful lot. For what had to have been at least two hours, they stumbled around the city, turning this way and that, earning odd looks from strangers. 

“For being the son of the god of travellers,” (y/n) said, “you are horrendous at reading a map.”

Luke gave her a nudge with his elbow as he scanned the map. He was grinning. Her stomach was doing cartwheels. “Maps make sense enough, but I think these ones are out of date.”

“Maps don’t go out of date, stupid.”

Beckendorf was holding back a smile. “I think he’s right. I think our maps are too old.”

(y/n) glowered at them, plucking their maps from their hands. Fine. They didn’t deserve to hold maps graced with her glittery gel pens anyways.

“Well,” she said. “Unless either of you have any ideas, we’re going to be stuck wandering for hours. Come on, Luke. Use your magicky journey powers. They got us this far.”

His eyes shone, and her knees felt a little weak. She loved it when he looked at her like that, when she had said something funny. It was as though the heavens themselves had descended and flooded his face with light and beauty. She couldn’t look away.

“It’s a big garden,” he retorted. “Find the big garden, daughter of the mighty Demeter!”

She knew he meant it as a joke - the sarcasm was practically dripping from his voice - but there was something in his tone that she couldn’t identify. Something deeper than a simple sarcastic comment. This had been a pity quest, of sorts, she knew. Luke had been getting restless and his father had wanted to satiate him, but it wasn’t enough. He was displeased with the gods, to say the least.

But he kept a good lock on his expressions, on his words. She wouldn’t have suspected a thing had she not known him as well as she knew the feeling of grass beneath her feet.

Eventually, combining their powers and the single brain cell that seemed to be taken by Beckendorf, they found their way to the Mount Tamalpais State Park, which was not open to visitors now that the sun was setting.

They stared up at the distant mountain, the sloping greenland and towering trees that led towards it, and heaved a synonymous groan. Quests could never be even slightly easy, it seemed. Why would the gods let them head to a random park in the city when they could have them trespassing in a state park at night, lives in the hands of the monsters and animals alike that roamed the woods? The gods would rather have them arrested than have something be easy.

“You’re kidding, right?” Beckendorf said. “We don’t have to walk all that way?”

(y/n) frowned. She wished more than anything that they could just turn around and leave, a feeling she did not often get on quests. But something didn’t feel right. There was a twist in her gut, a deep intuition that told her something was going to go wrong.

But her gut was also pulling her towards the mountain. There was a power there, unlike any she had felt before, and she wanted to know what it was. 

“We’ll be fine,” she insisted, though she didn’t feel entirely sure herself.

She was the first to make the step towards their darkening fates. If she had known the outcome, she would have turned and fled immediately.

The three of them trudged up the path, flicking on torches when the sky grew darker and the ground in front of them too hard to see. It gave them an eerie glow, entirely unlike the warm glow of their weapons. All of their features were in stark contrast to the dark surroundings; Luke’s cheekbones, Beckendorf’s eyes, her brownbone. It was disconcerting, and it felt all too much like they were the lead characters in a ghost story.

She was considering turning back about halfway there. The tug in her gut was becoming stronger, almost unbearable, and her head was pounding, filled with the worry of the possible incidents that had not happened yet. 

The only thing that kept her going was Luke’s pinky finger wrapped around hers.

Maybe he felt her nerves, so acute that she feared her sinews and tendons and bones could snap at any moment. But Luke knew her. He had known her since they were barely teenagers. He knew her better than she knew herself: every habit she had; every face she made; every hint of a feeling before she knew it was coming. He had some deep understanding of her, one that would have made her feel vulnerable in any other situation with any other person. Luke was not any other person.

His pinky was wrapped around hers tightly, warmer than the rest of her body put together. It curled around hers just so, acknowledging her worry. His jacket sleeve brushed hers.

It wasn’t until they reached the Garden at the foot of the mountain that his hand wrapped around hers fully, encasing it entirely in warmth and comfort. His palms were calloused, fingers ribbed with light scars, but she could not imagine it any other way.

The Garden of the Hesperides was easily the most beautiful place she had ever seen and was likely the most beautiful place she would ever see. Stars hung above them in the night sky, glittering so brightly it was as though they could reach out and touch them with their outstretched fingers. Lush green grass coated the ground beneath their feet and beyond, speckled with flowers so bright they almost glowed in the dark. It was bristling with life, so full of it that (y/n) could feel it all deep in her bones.

But the source of the power lay further afield.

A tree, much taller than the rest, stood at the centre of the garden, boasting more golden apples than (y/n) could count. Its branches swayed in the faint breeze in mesmerising swoops, and the scent of fresh fruit laced with something that could only be described as addictive brushed over them. A faint mist swirled around the trunk of the tree, glittering slightly in the moonlight.

“Holy Hephaestus,” Beckendorf murmured, slack-jawed.

“That’s one big tree,” Luke said. 

“You certainly have a way with words,” (y/n) said.

His hand only squeezed hers in response. She could feel his heartbeat in his wrist. How was it so steady?

There was a shift in the wind, then, and a soft bite came into the air. Goosebumps prickled the skin of their arms, raising the hair there. She wasn’t sure if she was imagining it, but she swore she could hear the faintest lull of singing voices and could feel the weight of some large presence in the air. Nothing could be seen but the beautiful garden and the decadent tree in the centre.

“Luke Castellan,” said a soft voice. Luke visibly tensed, eyes narrowing at the usage of his surname. “(y/n) (l/n). Charles Beckendorf. We have been expecting you in our Garden for quite some time now.”

The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once. But, finally, after a few moments, the speaker emerged from the fine mist.

She didn’t look like much, appearing to be barely older than (y/n), but there was something about her surrounding aura that suggested she was much, much older. Dark, inky hair tumbled over narrow tawny shoulders, framing even darker eyes that shone with unknown magic. The woman seemed to blink slowly, as if bored or tired, and it looked as though she were merely floating over the ground rather than walking. It was hard to tell. Her Greek chiton covered her feet.

“We are the Hesperides,” she said, voice ever gentle, as four more women appeared, each almost identical in appearance. “Daughters of the Evening. Nymphs of the Sunset. Protectors of this Garden. What is your business here?”

There was a cockiness to Luke’s smile then, one that had (y/n) on edge. “If you’ve been expecting us, then surely you know our business.”

The lead Hesperide drew nearer, stopping a few feet away from their trio. Her sisters gathered at her sides, dark eyes sparkling with stars and cold curiosity and something overtly bitter. The demigods were clearly unwelcome here, but they intended to make a game of their quest.

(y/n)’s hand squeezed Luke’s in warning. He spared her a glance, her heart drawing still when his warm eyes met hers. His chin dipped slightly in a nod, and he gave her hand a squeeze before turning his attention back to the Hesperides.

“We’ve been sent here on a quest by my father Hermes,” Luke announced. His voice held more confidence than she felt. “We’re here to retrieve a golden apple.”

It was strange watching the Hesperides’ heads tilt in unison as if they were each an extension of the other. Voices lulled around them, soft and gentle, and the worry seeped from her very bones. Her hand fell from Luke’s. Something felt strangely at ease in her stomach despite their circumstances.

“You may try,” said the lead Hesperide. Her skin glimmered like marble in the moonlight. “Our dearest Ladon protects this tree with his life. He does not sleep. Every second of every day, he guards our gift from Gaea, the goddess Hera’s wedding gift. Do not think it will be easy to pass him.”

The Hesperides seemed to fade into the mist, then, their bodies becoming light and transparent as they slowly backed away until nothing was left but the faint singing swirling around them. The voices gave (y/n) a strange feeling, as though pulling her towards the tree.

“Who’s Ladon?” Beckendorf asked.

The three of them stood for a moment, watching the swirling mist.

“A dragon,” (y/n) said. “A big dragon.”

She could feel his presence, she realised. The heavy weight that had settled over them upon entering the Garden, it couldn’t be anything else. Even still, she could feel him through the ground, like an impending sense of death and doom. She’d had similar feelings before, an innate knowledge that the strawberry fields were close to wilting one year. Campers had called her crazy, but she knew. The earth knew.

And it knew now. She was horribly aware of the heaviness in her gut that surrounded the bright power of the apple tree. It could be nothing but Ladon.

“Any ideas, Luke?” she asked. “You’re our idea guy.”

He scoffed. “Since when? You’ve been dragging us around by our ears this entire quest.”

But he could see the nerves that she felt. He knew how strange this was for her, to feel so deeply worried about a quest. He knew something was wrong.

“I’ll get the apple,” he said, and his shoulders rose with confidence. His hand, the one that had held (y/n)’s moments ago, twitched just so. “I’m the fastest out of the three of us. You two, keep our friend distracted.”

There was a deep grumble at that moment, as if Ladon were making himself known. It shook the ground and the boughs of the tree trembled. Sweet-smelling apples tumbled into the mist.

“Wouldn’t it make more sense for me to get the apples?” (y/n) asked. “You brought along a daughter of Demeter for a reason.”

He smiled softly at her. “That’s not the reason I brought you along.”

And, before either she or Beckendorf could protest his stupidity or question his statement, Luke’s glowing sword materialised in his hand and he was running into the mist.

The mist spread apart as his feet made contact, and (y/n)’s heart dropped. Beckendorf, one of the bravest demigods she had ever met despite his age, had a tremor in his hands as he pulled free his sword.

Within the mist was the largest monster (y/n) had ever seen. It was wrapped around the tree in a serpentine-like way, scales glimmering in the moonlight like molten copper and bronze. Massive claws sunk into the dirt surrounding the tree, at least the length of her forearm and as wide as Beckendorf’s. Every breath it released shook the branches of the tree as though caught in a gale.

The most horrifying part: the dragon had a hundred heads.

She had read about Ladon, had familiarised herself with the myths surrounding the Hesperides. Days before the quest, she and Luke had sat down at the canoe lake, poring over old history books that told the tale of Heracles and his Twelve Labours, one of which was the very quest they were being made to repeat. Luke had made a joke of it back then, unhappy with the quest he had been given and disbelieving that what they faced would be much of a threat.

But Ladon was no joke. It was an entirely different thing seeing drawings of the dragon and seeing him in real life. His hundred heads slithered through the air like snakes on the water, luminous yellow eyes watching the demigods with piqued interest. 

Even Luke faltered.

A deep breath came from all two hundred of the dragon’s nostrils, washing over them in a hot, acidic wave. The smell alone was horrendous, like an old, decrepit sewer filled with rotting rats, and it had the hairs on her arms standing and her eyes burning. 

She was worried that she may never be able to move again, frozen in place by the sheer might of Ladon, but when Luke turned to look at her, blood flooded into her veins again. He was counting on her. She wouldn’t let him down.

Ladon expected a frontal assault. He was waiting for Luke to attack, watching like a predator on prey, but he did not expect the very tree he protected to act against him.

With a heave of energy, (y/n) stretched out her arm and watched as the tree’s trunk began to swell as if filling with liquid. Ladon’s serpentine body writhed around it, twisting as he moved to accommodate the growing tree. The branches above him shook, dipping towards the ground slowly. Too slowly.

The dragon seemed to realise what, or who, was causing the change, and snarled ferociously. It was at that moment that Beckendorf grabbed a ball of Celestial bronze from his belt and, with a strong arm and remarkably good aim, threw it at the beast.

An explosion of green ignited before them as the ball slammed into Ladon’s thick hide. The dragon roared, whether in pain or fury, and set its bright gaze on (y/n) and Beckendorf.

Fear coursed through her body. She could hardly breathe. The branches wavered, pausing the pursuit to the ground. Beckendorf launched another one of his Celestial bronze bombs.

A pity quest, that’s what this had been. But, maybe, it was more than that. Maybe this was Hermes’ punishment for Luke wanting more from his life. Maybe this was (y/n)’s consequence for falling so irrevocably in love with Luke - for feeling the way she did, she would have to follow him to impossible circumstances.

But none of them deserved it.

It was at that moment that Luke took his leap.

With speed befitting a child of Hermes, he leapt onto Ladon’s mighty body, feet finding purchase on his rough scales, and launched himself upwards towards the descending branches.

For a moment, there was hope. Even Heracles had not retrieved the apples by facing Ladon, but maybe Luke would. Perhaps Luke would succeed where Heracles had not. Pride swelled in her heart, coated her tongue like warm honey, and she almost smiled.

Copper-coloured claws flashed in the moonlight. A chorus of soft, harmonising voices swirled around them like mist.

Mistake, they sang. The boy has made a mistake.

There was a cry of pain so guttural that (y/n) felt it in her soul. Her feet were moving before she could truly comprehend what was happening. The grass tried to reach for her ankles, tried to stop her in her mission, but nothing could. Had a god stood before her, she would have found her way past them. Nothing could stop her, not even this dragon that caused such fear in her bones.

She reached Luke as Ladon wound around the tree tightly, snarling protectively. Something in the beast’s demeanour hinted at pain beneath the danger, and when she saw the gold blood pooling just a few feet away, she knew why.

A claw, one of Ladon’s, severed from the knuckle down lay strewn in the grass. The dragon hissed as Beckendorf snatched it up, hefting his sword as (y/n) pulled Luke away.

He was bleeding badly. A deep gash ran from the tip of his brow down to the corner of his  mouth, somehow missing his eye but cutting just above and below. His skin was already becoming dangerously pale. Her hands were covered in blood. His blood. She was going to be sick.

“Hey,” she murmured, gently laying his head on her lap. Her hands trembled as she reached into her bag. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”

Luke shuddered, eyes half-lidded and struggling to find something to focus on. “Are you -?”

“I’m fine,” she said. After a terrible moment, one that took far too long, she pulled free a small vial of nectar, wrapped tightly in old face-cloths to keep it from smashing in her bag. Her hands couldn’t stop shaking as she tried to unwrap it.

Beckendorf knelt beside her, claw at his side, and took the vial from her hands. She didn’t know how his hands could be so steady. She could hardly breathe. Not with Luke so injured, not with Ladon eyeing them hungrily.

He handed the vial back, and she propped Luke’s head up slightly. With a hiss of pain, she managed to open his mouth just enough to pour the small amount of nectar in. He swallowed with a struggle.

There was no telling how long it would take the nectar to work, but they couldn’t stay there under the watchful glare of Ladon, who looked ready to attack again. (y/n) took a trembling breath.

“Beckendorf,” she said, “are you able to carry him? At least until we can get out of this place. I can try - I can clean the wound when we’re safe.”

He nodded and hoisted Luke up into his arms, careful not to jostle his head too much.

She didn’t realise she had been crying until they stopped.

Beckendorf set Luke down on a soft patch of grass beyond the Garden, and (y/n) tucked her jacket underneath his head. The nectar seemed to be working, albeit slowly. Some colour was returning to his skin, but it was hard to see under all of the blood.

“You’re okay,” she murmured again, but she wasn’t sure who she was telling. She wiped her tears with the back of her hands.

She grabbed one of the face-cloths the vial of nectar had been wrapped in, soaking it in water from her water bottle, and slowly brought it to Luke’s face.

His eyes seemed to have some ability to focus now, watching her beneath a glaze of pain. It tore her soul in half to see him in pain, wincing as she gently dabbed the blood from his cheek. Her fingers were stained. His cheek was, too.

“I’m going to keep watch,” said Beckendorf. “Those Hesperides gave me a bad feeling.”

(y/n) nodded, watching for a moment as he trudged a few feet away, just out of earshot, but her focus soon returned to Luke. She tried not to think too much about how his hand was gripping her knee as she cleaned the rest of the blood.

“Is the nectar working?” she asked when she saw his eyes drooping. “What does it taste like?”

His gaze found hers, warm and cloudy. A pained smile fought its way onto his lips despite the slowly-healing scar on his cheek. She could see the skin trying to sew itself back together with the aid of the nectar.

“That smoothie you made a few months back with the - with the camp’s strawberries,” he uttered. “And whatever those green leaves were.”

She found herself smiling despite the red coating her hands. “Mint. And it was that good, huh? Last I checked, nectar for you tasted like that weird concoction of Coke and Sprite you liked so much.”

For a moment, his eyes grew distant before refocusing on her face. They flickered over her features as if seeing them for the first time. His hand felt awfully warm on her knee.

“Anything you make is better,” he said. 

“Is that so?” She brushed his hair back from his face softly, cleaning the last bits of blood.

His skin was still stitching itself back together, but the nectar seemed to have stopped the bleeding. Second by second, blood flooded back into his face, giving him the colour that seemed to have been leached from his skin.

He nodded, his smile seeming as though it pained him less. His hand slipped from her knee, coming up to wrap itself around hers. The cloth fell from her fingers and onto the grass. Her fingers were still wet, though in the dim light she couldn’t tell if it was from water or lingering blood. She didn’t have the stomach to find out.

“You said you didn’t bring me on this quest because of my mother,” she said cautiously. Her heart was pounding in her chest. “So why did you?”

A soft squeeze of her hand. “This wasn’t a quest I wanted to do without you,” he said. “I like having you by my side. You give me strength.”

She was sure he could feel her pulse beating rapidly in her fingers, but he didn’t say anything about it. He didn’t need to. It was entirely likely that he was able to read her mind, he knew her so well. And she was okay with that.

“You’re stupid, you know,” she said, but her voice wavered.

“Stupidly brave?” he suggested. “Stupidly handsome? Stupidly charming?”

“I’m supposed to be supporting you right now,” she grumbled. “Not the other way around.”

His cocky grin was back and her heart fluttered. “Which one is it?”

“Which what?”

“Stupidly brave, handsome, or charming?”

All three, she thought. All three and so much more.

“Stupidly stupid,” she decided. 

Her thumb grazed his cheekbone, the one without the scar, and a shiver ran through his body. His hand tightened on hers and his smile softened into something more personal. It was the kind of smile she would have leapt into Tartarus to ensure its permanence on his lips. Soft and kind and reserved just for her. If she'd been standing, her knees would have buckled.

“You give me strength, too,” she murmured.

A sliver of hair slipped in front of her eyes, and moments later, Luke’s free hand was there, gently brushing it away. His eyes sparkled. They seemed clearer now, less agonised.

The events of the last hour - gods, it had felt like much longer - came crashing back onto her at his touch, asphyxiating and terrifying. Overwhelming guilt filled her veins and arteries with terrible speed, sapping all the strength from her bones. Her fingers trembled once more.

“I’m sorry,” she said. Her throat felt suddenly raw. “If I’d done a better job distracting Ladon, maybe you wouldn’t be hurt.”

Luke’s eyes were dark for a moment, swirling with something she couldn’t identify, but they softened seconds later. His hand rested on her cheek, warm and comforting, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at his eyes now.

“This is not your fault,” he said, and his voice was remarkably strong. “This is the gods’ fault. It’s my father’s fault. But it is not your fault.”

She tried to believe him, truly she did, but looking at the fresh scar on his face, even having been almost entirely healed with nectar, had her heart heavy in her chest. 

He knew this. Gods, he knew her every thought. His hand slipped from hers, cupping her other cheek and tilting her head so that she would look at him properly. There was a flush to his cheeks now - good, it meant he was getting better. 

“My father did this,” he insisted. “You hear me? This was not you. And, gods, believe me when I say that I’m glad it was me that went for the apples and not you. I couldn’t live with myself if you got injured.”

But you did, she wanted to say - no, scream. How do I live with that?

“I’m okay,” he said softly, cautiously, as if talking to a child who had just woken from a nightmare. “I’m okay.”

His hand fell from her face, taking hers in its grip once more, and placed her fingers on the newly formed scar.

She jerked back, terrified that the sensation would cause him more pain, but he just gave her that smile again, the one that made her knees feel like jelly, and pressed her fingers to it once more. Already, the skin was raised and slightly twisted, accommodating for the injury. She could faintly feel his pulse beneath his skin, slow and infuriatingly steady.

“It doesn't hurt,” he promised. His voice was so reassuring that she could feel it in her bones, and she was half-convinced he was secretly a child of Aphrodite, blessed with charmspeak. “I’m okay because of you.”

Her throat was achy. “And Beckendorf.”

He gave a small laugh. “And Beckendorf. But mainly you. You’ve given me strength.”

It was then that the world itself seemed to stop. He was leaning upwards, bringing her face close to his, and his lips brushed hers so softly that she feared she may have been dreaming the entire encounter.

She could taste the faint remnants of metallic blood, though it was easily brushed aside. Luke’s lips were slightly wind-chapped but she found herself uncaring when they slotted perfectly against hers.

This kiss was something she had been waiting years for, and it was better than she could have ever dreamed. The feeling of his hands on her, his lips against hers, it was something that could not be replicated in a dream, like flying for the first time and feeling the clouds beneath your fingers.

It was addictive, more so than the stupid apples that had caused Luke such pain, and she found herself wanting more. It was an effort to pull away from him, but eventually, she did. Beckendorf was only a few feet away and she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. It would make for an awkward journey home.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” Luke murmured.

Finally, there was a smile tugging on her lips again. “You’ve no idea how long I’ve been waiting.”

It took another hour or so before Luke was well enough to get moving. The dark trails gave all of them a bad feeling, and (y/n) wasn’t able to shake the almost hypnotic choral voices of the Hesperides until they were out of the State Park. Luke was shaky on his feet for a little while but his strength was returning.

And with it came anger.

Not anger at (y/n) or Beckendorf, no. He still smiled at them as usual, fingers entwined with (y/n)’s so tightly it was as though he was afraid she would slip away. Jokes still slipped past his lips despite the events of the evening.

But he was filled with fiery rage. It was hidden, but (y/n) could read him like a book. She had seen the inklings of it throughout the previous days of their quest, had seen it more clearly while she was cleaning the blood from his face - this anger, though, was pure. Harder to mask.

He had already been furious with his quest, a detail he had tried to keep hidden from her. He hated the idea of repeating history and the fact that this quest was simply made to satiate him, to prevent him from growing restless at camp and questioning the authority of the gods.

This was a breaking point.

It became clearer the more time passed. As the days and weeks went by, he would hold her hand like a lifeline and kiss her so softly it felt as though she was dreaming, but the anger never left. It ate away at him, dimming his smiles and reducing any respect he had left for the gods until there was nothing left but a shadow of what had once been there.

The scar never faded. It became a reminder of what he believed to be the gods’ failure. His failure.

He was still her Luke. The Luke she had known and loved since she was thirteen. She was just terrified of what he might become.

#givemea-dam-break #luke castellan x reader #pjo luke x reader #pjo luke castellan x reader #pjo x reader #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #luke castellan #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #x reader #fanfiction #luke castellan fanfiction #pjo fanfiction

[sleepless-crows]

congrats on 1k!!!! i don’t think we’ve ever spoken but i enjoy your posts a lot <3 have a wonderful day!!!

thank you so much akbsksbsksbms 🥺💜💜💜

#givemea-dam-break #i want to ask you to dance right there*

[neewtmas]

17, 25, and 58 for the fic writers questions please my love!

17 - What do you do when writing becomes difficult? (maybe a lack of inspiration or writers block)

for writers block I really just leave it alone for a while and do some other stuff, and if I'm lacking inspiration, I read! Sometimes my own stuff (which I couldn't do a few years back so I take that as an improvement lol) but most often I read my favourite fics or even just the original source material. Most of the time it's enough to see some phrase I really like or a description that's really well written and I want to get back to writing myself.

25 - What fic do you wish you got more of a response on?

I think it would be this george x reader fic. I'm really proud of it and I think it's one of my best works. I really appreciate the response I got tho, also from the person who requested it! but ofc if we're talking about feedback, more is always nice (and also the George x reader series I'm working on, though nothing much has happened yet so it's understandable)

58 - What part of the writing process do you enjoy the most? (Brainstorming, outlining, writing, editing, etc.)

I think writing is what's the most fun. I really like coming up with ways to describe stuff and I love when inspiration strikes for scenes I know I would go crazy over if I read them in another fic! A lot of professional writers talk about how they discover how the story goes while writing it, and sometimes that happens as well and I just love it.

#ask #ask game #nice people #givemea-dam-break

[superpositvecloudshipper]

Hey sorry it took so long I've had a busy life recently anyways here's a picture I drew based on @waiting-for-my-hogwarts-letter lockwood and co mermaid fanfic it's in one of the first parts where lockwood firsts meets Lucy and save her from a fishing net(sorry I'm nit great at drawing regular human a.e lockwood Im much better at drawing animals or mythical humans like mermaids)

Hope you guys like it also don't judge my phone has sh*tty quality and I'm having to draw this with sh*tty pencils so yeah.

#@waiting-for-my-hogwarts-letter #@siszuzu @rainbows r nice05 @givemea dam break @marinalor @malteevars kee devi @wellgoslowly @waitingforthesunrise

[criesinliess]

━MARCH 2023; susan's recs

LOCKWOOD&CO

knock knock. who's there? @klineinie

━━ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

a taste of normalcy @websterss

the stray from arif's @↑

everything @frogserotonin

marker mayhem @oblivious-idiot

no one else @vi-trying-to-survive

public displays @↑

the language of longing. looks and stolen glances @fleetingvow

at times like these @teaandransacking

out the window @givemea-dam-break

patch you up @↑

you left me @↑

anthony @↑

i know it hurts @warrenposts

love me, forever, always @klineinie

dancing with our hands tied @bloodcanbehot

i wish you would @↑

you talk too much @helloooofandoms

TOP GUN: MAVERICK

━━JAKE 'HANGMAN' SERESIN

tiktok trouble @ultralightpoe

do you want me to lie, sir? @simpforrooster

the princess and the hangman @↑

howdy, darlin'; part2 @↑

━━BRADLEY 'ROOSTER' BRADSHAW

daddy would say yes @roosterforme

GRISHAVERSE

━━KAZ BREKKER

six months @grimbanes

the king @magpiencrow

bejeweled @honeyfict

━━NIKOLAI LANTSOV

i want you to want me; part2 @sophierequests

the one you think about as you lie awake; part2 @↑

young royals @clairecrive

stars in the night @↑

currents @lantsovsupremacist

august @↑

sick & stubborn @fleurspun

healer’s duties @↑

the art of pretension @↑

speak up @prince-septimus

SPIDER-MAN

━━ANDREW!PETER PARKER

you're not peter parker; part2 @curseofaphrodite

coffee run @↑

caviar and cigarettes @↑

MARVEL

━━DRUIG

unrequired; part2 @givemea-dam-break

MARAUDERS ERA

━━JAMES POTTER

getaway car @curseofaphrodite

mortal enemies @↑

━━SIRIUS BLACK

collide @curseofaphrodite

━━REGULUS BLACK

drunk nights; part2 @curseofaphrodite

the door @↑

words unsaid @↑

the break-in; part2 @↑

wishes and a gift @↑

of monsters and men @↑

the best man @↑

tricks and charms @↑

THE CHRONICLES OF NARNIA

━━PRINCE CASPIAN

my prince @heliads

OUTER BANKS

━━JJ MAYBANK

assigned seat @quin-ns

fiending for something, might just be a meaning @idcntlikedarkness

a visceral feeling, that i can never leave behind @↑

throw another stone at a glass house @↑

went out searching for an angel, then you came to me my darling @↑

━━RAFE CAMERON

whipped @mrsstarkey1

said you’re smoking less, and then you ashed it on your chest @idcntlikedarkness

this too shall pass @probably-writing-x

another? @↑

country club @a-aexotic

rafe defending pogue!reader @↑

no for one night stand @↑

i'd choose you over anyone @↑

cuddle buddies; part2 @fantasylandloser

tear-stained cheeks @sunraies

BULLET TRAIN

━━TANGERINE

safe house @quin-ns-moved

ÉLITE

━━GUZMÁN NUNIER

out of love; part2; part3; part4 @probably-writing-x

THE BEAR

━━CARMY BERZATTO

the way to his heart; part2 @adore-laur

little by little @↑

#susan's recs #fics recs #anthony lockwood x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin x reader #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader #kaz brekker x reader #nikolai lantsov x reader #andrew!peter parker x reader #druig x reader #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #regulus black x reader #prince caspian x reader #jj maybank x reader #rafe cameron x reader #tangerine x reader #guzmán nunier x reader #carmy berzatto x reader

[wellgoslowly]

cute lil locklyle edit to a new girl audio

@oblivious-idiot @yveni @uku-lelevillain @ikeasupremacy @givemea-dam-break

#lockwood and co #renew lockwood and co #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #george karim #locklyle #george cubbins #lockwood netflix #locklyle brainrot is real #save lockwood and co #new girl #locknation #lockwood and co. #lockwood & co #lockwood #netflix lockwood and co #lockwood and co netflix #anthony bloody lockwood #lucy carlyle edit #lucy joan carlyle #lockwood and lucy #lockwood & co. #anthony lockwood edit #george karim edit #lockwood and co edit #wellgoslowly shitposting #linnie edits #linnifer edits #jonathan stroud #lucewood

[oblivious-idiot]

happy birthday lockwood and co!!!!

it's officially been a whole year of having lockwood and co on our screens!!! HOW CRAZY IS THAT???

anywho. soppy post alert below. now, i haven't been that caught up and fully invested in a show, or even a fandom for that matter, in a VERY long time. it's hard to put into words how much all of this means to me, but we'll give it a shot.

lockwood and co, to put it simply, is one of the best things that has happened to me in a very long time. to not only be invested in a fabulously captivating show, but to feel seen and understood by the characters too!! these guys literally mean so much to me because i literally see myself in them 10 fold - they are so kind, funny, unapologetically themselves, selfless, proud, stubborn, and overall just kids trying to get by. they are so relatable but so unique all at once.

as well as the show and books being so goddamn wonderful and marvelous, i just wanna say something for this fandom too. i've never known a fandom be so resilient even AFTER the show got cancelled to still thrive, have an online and now an in-person event for the fans to talk to people like jonathan and gina (who we quite literally wouldn't be here without them), joe cornish, and ali, ruby, and cameron!

you guys have literally changed my world in so many ways, and i can gladly say that i have grown so much, in myself and in happiness, because of the wonderful friendships i've made here. @impossibleclair was the first person i became friends with here (!!! love you clair), shortly followed by the likes of @losticaruss and @wellgoslowly - who i love with my entire heart. you guys have shown me so much love and support, i adore you

i hope that eventually one day this year i might even be lucky enough to meet some of the lovely friends i've made here too!! (looking at you, month of july)

i'd like to just shout out so many of the wonderful people i now know because of this silly little show - if i have missed out anyone please know it wasn't on purpose!! @wellgoslowly @neewtmas @avdiobliss @waitingforthesunrise @ettadear @rainysaturdayafternoon @impossibleclair @thisgameissonintendo @uku-lelevillain @ikeasupremacy @occasionally-normal-things-here @paranorahjones @strawberrycowgirly @demigoddess-of-ghosts @givemea-dam-break @jesslockwood @kazbrekkerfast @krash-and-co @bobbys-not-that-small @maraschinomerry and anyone else who's a mutual or has interacted with me!!! i adore you all

thank you for making this past year so wonderful and full of love and encouragement!! yall don't know how much i appreciate you all

much love, allie x

#lockwood and co #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #george karim #lockwood & co #locklyle #save lockwood and co #renew lockwood and co #lockwood #lockwood netflix #lockwood and co anniversary #lockwood and lucy #lockwood and co netflix #george cubbins #lucy joan carlyle

[portlandrowismyhome]

Borrowed Time: Chapter One

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

This is that Lockwood and co serial killer prompt…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A favor?”

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

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

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

“Yes?”

“There was a strange whispering.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Miss Carlyle—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was Miss Younge. 

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

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

“Miss Carlyle —“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He swore under his breath. 

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

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

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

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

The door was unlocked. 

Lucy tapped it hesitantly and it creaked slowly open. 

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

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

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

“Skull! You could have warned me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lucy froze. “Who is this?”

“A businessman. Looking for a deal.”

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

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

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

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

“A payment for what?”

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

“I’m not dropping the case!”

“Oh?”

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

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

“The Type One, then?”

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

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

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

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

“I—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lucy?” He said blankly. 

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

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

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

“Oh, Lucy,” Holly whispered. 

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

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

Lucy swallowed. “I..”

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

The world was spinning again. 

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

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

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

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

“He wasn’t with me,” Lucy said. 

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

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

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

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

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

Silence. 

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

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

“Wish I could say the same for you.”

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

She gripped the receiver. “Where is he?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lockwood,I—”

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

“Lockwood!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,I—”

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

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

~ To be continued ~

#save lockwood and co #lockwood and co #renew lockwood and co #save lockwood & co #bring back lockwood and co #together for lockwood and co #anthony lockwood #togetherforlockwoodandco #lucy carlyle #locklyle #locklyle fanfic #lucewood #lucewood fanfic #Lockwood and co fanfic #holly munro #george cubbins #george karim #fanfic #Anthony Lockwood fanfic #Locklyle fanfiction #Lockwood and co fanfiction #Original fanfic

[maraschinomerry]

Lockwood & Co fic recs

These are all fics that I absolutely adore, or writers who have a full masterlist I'd recommend! All in alphabetical order for better organisation and no favouritism ❤️ if you have a masterlist I wasn't able to find let me know, and of course this will be updated as I read more!

Writers

@bumblebugwrites masterlist

@gay-dorito-dust masterlist

@givemea-dam-break masterlist

@neewtmas masterlist

@oblivious-idiot masterlist

@stray-kaz masterlist

@tangledinlove masterlist

@vi-trying-to-survive masterlist

@wordsarelife masterlist

George Karim x reader

Distraction by @teaandransacking

I'll be your type two anytime by @klineinie

Love by @genieofthebooks

Patch Up by @l0ves1ckf0ol

Studies of the heart and mind by @frogserotonin

The Little Things by @genieofthebooks

The Way I Care by @warrenposts

Anthony Lockwood x reader

Certain Sensitivities by @warrenposts

Cuddle Comfort by @websterss

Don't look at him, look at me by @vampcrystal

Everything by @frogserotonin

Let's go home? by @klineinie

The complications of a fake engagement by @novelizt

Wait Until Morning by @ghostlystyles

You are in the earth of me by @philliam-writes

Paper rings by @bella-rose29

Lockwood & Co x reader

Knock knock, who's there? by @klineinie

#lockwood & co #fic recs #lockwood & co fanfic #save lockwood and co

[waitingforthesunrise]

WELCOME TO THE TUMBLR FAMILY GENEALOGY!!

this family is centered around @tiredandcaffeinated (Amara) and@waitingforthesunrise (me). We went through an amicable divorce (for completely unknown reasons). I remarried my beautiful @irisesforyoureyes, Aquana (love you forever) and amara and I happily co-parent several children.

the children: @trashmeowcan (percy) @pheonix-thefirebird (lavanya) @thedonutdeliverygirl (rey), @cordelia-street, @tiensmamains (Sage), @mediocre-desi , @myeyesandheartadjust (Lanny), @deecubeisaries (Ariel) and youngest child (nerdy and slightly rebellious) @totally-not-an-npc (Ria). as well as our grandchild @danityrose (lavanya’s child.) WE LOVE THEM ALL DEARLY and I frequently adopt new children, so applications are 100% open.

we're also happy to include the amazing Uncle Theo (@theoculus124) and @angerycat and super cool Aunts: Aunt Pip (@gooseberry--fool) Aunt Lala (@lalallorona,) Aunt Harshi @staringatthesunsettand chocolate-milk-in-a-wine-glass Aunt Mae (@locklylemybeloved). we love them to death. We also love incredible Aunt Lisa (@neewtmas) who is Eden’s wife. We also adore Aunt Allie (@oblivious-idiot) and her children (our cousins?) Linnie (@wellgoslowly) and Mayra (@ikeasupremacy), well as cool tattoo aunt @rozanarchy (who is also adopting children).

we also love my little sister @paysomeonetopaysomeone and big sister @rozanarchy and my bestie sibling May (@everythingwillend) :)) as well as my platonic soulmate @toburnmykruge (tess) and aquana's platonic soulmate, @givemea-dam-break (Eden). As well as @aayeroace :)) and of course we adore our family dog, @lucy-j-carlyle <3

this is a family of love and support and respect. we're with each other until the end of the line; nobody ever has to go to bed feeling unloved or unwanted. we pick each other back up, we remind eachother to relax and take care of ourselves, and we hold each other and cry when we need to. sometimes there is disagreement, but it is never violent, and it is always respectful and loving. we listen to each other's rants and rambles and playlists. we admire our pets and desserts and new books. we love each other dearly. we are a family.

#i think we need a family crest #also an actual name?? #blended tumblr family #if you didn't see yourself on this page and you want a family to care for you #reach out! drop an ask! we love finding new family members #love you all dearly

[givemea-dam-break]

how to train your dragon masterlist

astrid hofferson

Chief Trust

hiccup haddock

For A Reason Dance With Me My Person Like We're Kids Again Nightmares I'm Always Here Comfort The Stars Until We Meet Again Hiccup the Healer

#how to train your dragon x reader #httyd x reader #hiccup x reader #hiccup haddock x reader #astrid x reader #astrid hofferson x reader #givemea-dam-break

[anakinskywalkers-gf]

hi! so i was wondering if i could request a headcanon for lockwood x reader, where reader is kinda touched starved? idk what kind of headcanon ideas you’re looking for, but yeah :)

Hi hun!! I think this request is perfect for what I'm looking for!! I'm a very touch starved person so this is definitely a little (a lot) self-indulgent lol

Fluff, established relationship, touch starved reader, gn reader(I think that's it)

Please give me honest feedback, this is the first time I've ever posted my headcannons/writing

----------------------------------------------------------

- Lockwood definitely tries to keep his hands on you in little ways if he knows you are touch starved

- holding hands, a hand on your back, even just linking y'all's pinkys together, just little things to let you know that he's there

- CUDDLES!!!

- LOTS of cuddles, especially at night in the library

- playing with his hair

- "keep doing that." "doing what? Braiding your hair?"

- loves when you do his hair

- late nights in the library trying (and failing) to be quiet while playing around

- doodles of each other hugging all over the thinking cloth

- George getting tired of seeing it and Lucy laughing at how disgusted he is

- hugs from behind

- bonus points if you are below shoulder height to him

- kisses on the top of your head

- poking his sides to startle him

- tiny kisses on his back

- staying right by his side during cases

- training dates

- getting you whatever treats you want from arifs

----------------------------------------------------------

I hope you enjoyed, sorry it's short!!! I just wanted to get this out quick so I can get a little feedback

Taglist: @wellgoslowly @thebiscuitrule @lucyjcarlyle @neewtmas @atlabeth @george-the-pumpkin @givemea-dam-break @the-biscuit-agreement @thisgameissonintendo

#anthony lockwood #lockwood and co #george karim #lucy carlyle #lockwood & co #renew lockwood and co #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood and co x reader #★tori's baes★ #tori talks!

[wordsarelife]

guys!! the poll decided: our love interest will be Theo!! i'm super excited to start planning and writing the series!

reminder: it's going to be a rockstar/band au and enemies to lovers!!!

characters that will be featured (in the band):

theo as lead singer, enzo as guitarist, blaise on the drums, draco on keyboard and mattheo as bass player!

so here's one last thing i need to ask and i'd love to hear your input on, before i start planning:

(please send requests (so not to spoil or reveal too much)

what are moments/ scenes you want to see?

suggestions for a band name??

and any other input you might have, like song suggestions that the band could've written or quotes you want to hear hehe or username ideas for a few chapters in which social media might get a feature, let me know!!

thank you guys so much for all your input so far!! i'm super excited!!!

tagging my moots (that are probably tired of me by now, so feel free to ignore this guys): @ahead-fullofdreams @amongemeraldclouds @novelizt @mqstermindswift @blooberry-bagel @givemea-dam-break @obsessedwithceleste @witchy8464

#theodore nott x you #theo nott headcanons #theo nott fanfiction #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theo nott x you #theodore nott #theo nott #theo nott x y/n #blaise zabini x reader #blaise zabini #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #enzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x reader #band!au #rockstar!au #hogwarts au #harry potter au #slytherin group #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin #alternate universe #lizzysbandauseries #lizzysrockstarauseries #rockstar!theonott

[neewtmas]

What's Mine is Yours

A/N: This was so fun to write! It's a little bit on the shorter side, but I hope you all enjoy :) @hufflepuff1619 thank you so much for your request! I hope you like it &lt;3

pairing: anthony lockwood x fem!reader

wordcount: 1.4k

request: Hello! I was wondering if I could request a one shot please for Lockwood. The reader works for Lockwood and Co and because of their job, she gets nightmares a lot and that usually ends up with her sleeping in Lockwoods bed and it basically become her bedroom too. Thank you. - by @hufflepuff1619

taglist: @maraschinomerry @marinalor @oblivious-idiot @lockwood-lover @givemea-dam-break (if you wanna be added/removed, just send me an ask/message :))

masterlist

The only sound in the cold night air was the cab driving down the street, lights quickly disappearing in the thick fog drifting over the pavement. Lockwood, George, Lucy and Y/N stood in front of 35 Portland Row, duffle bags on the ground next to them.

"Well, let's get inside and get some sleep", Lockwood's voice cut through the silence just as the ghost lamp at the corner switched off. The gate creaked as he pushed it open, and the small light next to the door switched on, illuminating the uneven stones that paved the way to the steps. He carried his bag up to the door and set it down, reaching for the keys in his pockets. He fumbled with them, almost dropping them before he found the right one and unlocked the door. It swung open and he let the other three trudge past him before he entered and closed the door again, leaving the darkness of the night outside.

The light in the hallway, though homely and warm, showed just how exhausted everyone was. No words were exchanged as they all left their bags by the door, the clean-up a concern for the next morning, and went into the kitchen. George immediately set a kettle on the stove, and Y/N sat down on one of the chairs while Lockwood rummaged in one of the cabinets for some biscuits.

Lucy grabbed one from the plate he set down on the table and excused herself to bed with a 'good night' mumbled out between bites of biscuit.

Y/N took the cup George gave her and gave him a thankful smile. She poured a bit of sugar in and stirred a few times, watching the liquid swirl around her spoon. She was tired, eyes threatening to fall close every few minutes. She had already dozed off on the cab ride home. But as much as she wanted nothing more than to curl up under her blanket and fall into a deep sleep, she also knew that it probably wouldn't be that easy.

"That ghost was something, huh?" Lockwood said to no one in particular. George snapped out of staring at the wall and nodded slowly. "At least this time, we weren't wholly unprepared."

He was right. From that perspective, tonight's case had gone great - no ugly surprises, and everything had been just the way George had predicted it with the material he had researched. They had worked together fabulously, and for once, no one was subjected to a near-death experience. Unfortunately, that was unusual.

"Raw-Bones are truly the worst", Lockwood said contemplatively, examining the biscuit he was holding closely before taking a bite. "Haven't seen a visitor this nasty and revolting in a long time."

Y/N squeezed her eyes closed, trying hard to stop her brain from conjuring up the memory of the ghost they had encountered just a few hours ago. "I think I'll go to bed as well", she said quietly and got up. She could feel Lockwood's eyes follow her as she walked over to the sink and emptied her cup into it. She hated wasting perfectly good tea, but right now she didn't feel she could stomach even one more sip.

She slowly made her way upstairs, feeling heavy and tired. A dull ache had started to form behind her forehead and after she exchanged her ectoplasm-stained clothes for soft pyjamas, she finally climbed into her bed and sighed a breath of relief. She pulled the blanket up under her chin and curled her knees to her chest, head comfortably buried in her fluffy pillow. She reached out from under her blanket to switch off the small nightlamp on her bedside table, and then her room was pitch black.

She did not yet close her eyes, but instead just stared into the dark, trying to calm her breathing. She listened to the quiet creaking of the floorboards as either George or Lockwood moved around one floor below her room. After a while, doors closed and the only thing that was left to hear was her own breaths. She pulled her blanket tighter around herself and tried to close her eyes, hoping to fall asleep quickly.

But the moment she did, her mind was flooded with the gruesome pictures of the Raw-Bones she had fought off hours earlier. One would think being an agent and fighting off ghosts for a living would get easier with time, and in some ways, it did - where she started as a talented but terrified ten year old she was now a capable agent. But no matter how well she did in the field, her sleep suffered after especially horrific cases, just like the one tonight.

George had prepared them - they knew what was coming. But seeing the skinless corpse, bloody all over with ribs sticking out, eyes bulging out as it robbed over the floor, leaving a trail of blood that was of course just ectoplasm but sure as hell didn't look like it - it was enough for her to know that the nightmares would come.

She opened her eyes again, quickly switching on her night lamp. The warm light was comforting. She knew that sleep was impossible tonight. Should she go down to Lockwood's room? He had been kind and understanding from the moment she first knocked at his door after a nightmare that had left her shaking a few weeks after she had started working here. After that, it had happened a few other times - and even though he never gave her the feeling that she was too much, maybe he just wanted to be nice.

A few minutes later she was tip-toeing down the stairs. Maybe he was just being nice, and maybe it meant nothing at all, but she desperately needed sleep and knew it wasn't going to happen if she stayed in her bed by herself.

In front of his bedroom door, she hesitated for a moment, not quite sure of herself. But then she took a deep breath and knocked three times, just like every time before. It was silent in his room, and for a moment she thought he was already asleep and was ready to turn around, but then she heard rustling and footsteps behind the door.

The door swung open and revealed Lockwood in his pyjamas, hair already messy. "Y/N. Are you okay? Another nightmare?" The way he said it made it clear that he was concerned, and not at all annoyed like she had feared. Her shoulders slumped down. "Not yet", she whispered. "But I can't sleep."

He extended his hand to her and she hesitantly took it, allowing him to pull her into the room and closer to him. He closed the door behind her, and now they stood in darkness. He squeezed her hand and led her to his bed where he switched on the night light.

"Do you wanna sleep here tonight?" She nodded and he climbed into bed, scooting over so that she had enough space to lay down next to him and lifted the blanket. The spot was still warm from him laying the moments earlier. He reached over her to switch off the light, and she could feel his breath at the back of her head and his warm body pressed up to hers. He didn't pull his arm back, instead wrapped it around her and pulled her closer to his chest.

She suddenly felt very hot and was glad that the room was dark, otherwise, he would have seen the intense blush that coloured her cheeks crimson. It wasn't the first time this had happened, but she was flustered just the same, every single time.

"Sorry that I'm bothering you again", she said quietly, cringing at how loud it still sounded. He was silent for a moment. "You're not bothering me, Y/N. You could never bother me." He paused and leaned closer, his breath tickling her ear. "Do you wanna know a secret? Every time a case is especially scary, I lie here and wait and hope for you to show up at my door."

She swallowed hard. This was new. His thumb was tracing patterns over her stomach where he was holding her. "Really?", she asked, breathless. "You don't mind sharing your bed?"

"Not if it's with you." He pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. "What's mine is yours, as long as you want it."

thank you for reading, feedback is appreciated :)

#anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood and co #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood & co #lockwood & co x reader

[superpositvecloudshipper]

Hey guys recently I've had a really bad spike in my mental health and have been taking a break from social media I should be back soon thank you all for being here you guys make life a lot easier 💜

#@siszuzu @givemea-dam-break @rainbows-r-nice05 @waitingforthesunrise @archiveoftara @wordsarelife

[criesinliess]

━JUNE 2023; susan's recs

THE BEAR

━━CARMY BERZATTO

make my heart surrender — masterlist @nolita-fairytale

the bear & the fox — masterlist @thatone-brightstar

MARVEL

━━BUCKY BARNES

i like me better when i am with you @themorningsunshine

be(tter) in reality with me @t-lostinworlds

too hot, an arm cold @↑

━━MIGUEL O’HARA

el trato (the deal); part2; part3; part4; part5; part6; part7; part8; part9 @messylustt

what’s in between @ghost-with-a-teacup

to leave the warmest bed i've ever known @angel-eyes05

the wishing tree; part2 @luveline

heart-shaped plaster @↑

overworked @↑

multiverse parenting @allthingsimagines

what the f-!?; what!?; he what!? @carpecaelo

a hug @messylustt

XO KITTY

━━MIN HO

bet u wanna @parkerflix

love countdown @↑

hot & cold @writingmeraki

LOCKWOOD&CO

━━ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

protective lockwood @thetarsier

leave the door open @atlabeth

love; part2 @givemea-dam-break

SCREAM

━━ETHAN LANDRY

a chance for change @astrxq

more than enough @iwritefandomimagines

can i be him @bloatedandalone04

GRISHAVERSE

━━KAZ BREKKER

ease your mind @lady-ashfade

━━NIKOLAI LANTSOV

the blonde @futurecorps3

TOP GUN: MAVERICK

━━BRADLEY 'ROOSTER' BRADSHAW

a forgotten birthday @colourfulsuitwonderland

like i can; part2; part3 @sometimesanalice

━━JAKE 'HANGMAN' SERESIN

excuses part8; part9; part10 @callsign-viper

KNIVES OUT

━━RANSOM DRYSDALE

the assistant; four christmases; first blood; therapy; baby blues @trillian-anders

STRANGER THINGS

━━STEVE HARRINGTON

hearts on the telephone line @t-lostinworlds

OUTER BANKS

━━RAFE CAMERON

armour @probably-writing-x

#susan's recs #fics recs #carmy berzatto x reader #bucky barnes x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #min ho x reader #anthony lockwood x reader #ethan landry x reader #kaz brekker x reader #nikolai lanstov x reader #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #steve harrington x reader #rafe cameron x reader