#and she’s pretty good with a rapier too
Text
me 3 days ago: i won’t get overinvested in a bg3 oc i won’t i won’t i won’t
me now, holding up my littol clown-bard by her pink pigtails: this is calliope her dad raised her by himself on the road as a travelling minstrel and her mum was a drow warrior he seduced to escape prison at her colony and she was rejected by her mum at birth and then rejected by most of the crowds she’s performed for but she never stops trying and never stops smiling and I Love Her
#p#she has heterochromia and a yawning black pit of curiosity and a determination to see past people’s demons#and she’s pretty good with a rapier too#i did try playing paladin at first but this is just so much more fun. messy chaotic bard is The Way i think#bg3#i think i’m gonna try for a wyll romance. she has that vibe.
3 notes
·
View notes
Note
Have you read GRRM books? He claims swords needed to be “especially designed for women’s hands” how true is this?
About as true as all of those, “girl guns.” Because, as you know, a woman cannot hold a Glock unless it's pink or sky blue. Which is to say, not even remotely true.
You might get a situation where a child would be unable to operate a weapon designed for adults because the grip is too cumbersome, but even this is going to be something of an outlier. Even years later the Nicholas Cage's line from Lord of War (2005) sticks with me, when describing the AK he narrates, “...so simple a child could use it, and they do.”
Just like basically any other common grip you encounter in your daily life, from screwdrivers to steering-wheels and cell phones, selling smaller, or more colorful ones, is strictly a marketing gimick.
Now, is a legitimate context, but it doesn't really have anything to do with the wielder's sex. If they had the money, the time, and the desire for a perfect grip, they might commission a smith to produce a grip specifically for their hand. Though, the only place I've ever come across this was in competitive fencing. I have seen cases where someone modifies their blade's grip with tape or other materials to better fit their hand, or the addition of a leather (usually shagreen) wrap over their grip, but even that is somewhat unusual. (Shagreen is leather from a shark or ray, and it grips the skin, making it easier to hold, especially when wet.)
Ironically, girl guns do illustrate the one case where have some weight: Weapons as fashion accessories.
I know I've complained about weapons (particularly handguns) as fashion accessories in previous posts, but the truth is that using weapons like this is not new behavior. In the early modern era, one of the ways the rising middle class liked to display their status was with a sidearm. (In this case, referring to a sidesword or, later, a rapier.) I've looked specifically into women carrying sidearms at that point in history, but it really would not surprise me in the least if they did, and if there were, that at least some of those swords were specifically designed to be more delicate and, “feminine,” per their owner's tastes. (Though, to be fair, a more delicate grip on a rapier would be fairly impressive, as the grips tend to be pretty thin.) This is a case where you might want to look into it further, if it really catches your interest, but I've never really run this down before.
If you're still dubious, feel free to wander into nearly any HEMA event, and you'll have a better than average chance of a woman being willing to prove this idea false with a Zweihander, that may in fact be taller than she is. (Historically, Zwiehanders could be over 2 meters long, and chances extremely good that you're shorter than 2 meters.)
I know I'm regurgitating previous posts here, but it really is worth remembering that swords are much lighter than people think. Zweihanders are some of the heaviest battlefield swords from history, and even the heaviest examples weigh less than 9lbs. Women in HEMA can, and do, use them effectively. Swords aren't about being big and heavy, they're about being a (in this case) seven foot long razor blade.
Since we're on the Zweihander specifically (and this may also apply for some of the other greatswords, such as the Scottish Claymore), this is a case where you might have a custom weapon forged for you. However, in this case, that's more about the right blade length, then worrying about the grip being too thick or too thin. Ideally, you want the blade length to match your height (roughly), this is because of the drills with the weapon itself, though you could adjust to a longer blade if that's what you had.
Now, to be clear, the idea of someone, particularly a noble, having a blade custom forged for them specifically isn't strange. That's something that did happen, both at the noble's request, and also as diplomatic gifts from other nations. Examples of the latter resulted in beautiful art pieces that you would never take into battle.
If you had a situation where you couldn't use a sword because the grip was too large (for, whatever reason), there are ways to fix that. In an ideal situation, you could simply pop off the pommel and grip, and then replace the grip with one that was a better fit to your hand. If the tang itself was the problem (this is the metal core of the grip, and is part of the blade, which the pommel attaches to), you might be able to shave (or file) down the tang, and then replace the grip with a new one, fitted to the now smaller tang. I'm not particularly wild about modifying the tang directly, simply because there is a (minor) risk of reducing the structural integrity of the sword in the process. Though, replacing the grip (especially on a sword with a threaded pommel) is very doable, and unless someone, somehow, screws up catastrophically, it should be a pretty trivial modification. (Again, replacing a sword's original grip with a new shagreen grip does make a lot of sense if the owner wants that improved grip.)
But, to the original question, it's not really a thing.
-Starke
This blog is supported through Patreon. Patrons get access to new posts three days early, and direct access to us through Discord. If you’re already a Patron, thank you. If you’d like to support us, please consider becoming a Patron.
708 notes
·
View notes
Text
I'm back! Thank you so much for your patience and your kind messages and comments ♥ you are so nice about my silly ramblings, I appreciate it a lot.
previously, on harrowsoup the ninth:
this happened
also I posted this and this as previews and this is the whole tag
currently, chapters 23-26:
"an atmosphere of greater unease had settled over the mithraeum"
aka the emperor's bolthole
btw, no kidding, harrow, I hadn't noticed the unease
so, harrow asks around about the herald situation
I have another deck with dragon heralds but I'm not gonna go on a card tangent this time (you're welcome)
everyone gives terrible and useless descriptions
emperor johnny boy says "Whenever they come I am bundled off to a sealed sanctum at the heart of the Mitrhaeum, so that their insanity can't touch me"
asshole coward awful man
harrobean is trying to ask why emperor asshat is so sure about her having to die and if there's no way she can make it
emperor johnny says yandere twin isn't that good at being a lyctor yet, even if she's surprising and that if he was still giving silly names, he'd name her "Saint of Awe"
harrow thinks "that had not quite suited Naberius"
get perpetually owned, chad
harrow also mentions not being able to remember things well
YOU THINK, HARROW?
"it was as though your brain had formed a scab over everything that had happened to you"
I don't think that scab is healing well
emperor johnny insists on the rapier
idk why they all insist on the rapier
gideon and camilla didn't like it and were the fucking best cavaliers ever
ARE, THEY ARE THE BEST CAVALIERS EVER
PRESENT TENSE
but anyway, at this point, it could very well be emperor johnbro has aesthetic demands
not like he'll explain anything
harrowbean sees not!dulcinea's door closed, which isn't usual
she second guesses a bit because she can't always trust what she sees and she remembers crux saying "you saw what you saw, Lady, and the only thing you control now is your reaction thereto"
I didn't like that old man, but that's pretty cool of him to say
harrow opens the door and sees this
alleged gideon the first aka ortus tells harrow to go away very calmly and in a way that is too nice for him, apparently
harrow is upset at the display in front of her salad and goes to complain to yandere twin
which is a terrible place to complain at because she's both into gossip and into kink
if you want someone to take this seriously, that's the last place to go to
"at least you know who's been moving her—so to speak"
this is what we get combining yandere twin and chad
I've used that gif twice for her already
I forgive her, though, because she says "god is a dickhead" and she's right
she also asks harrow to try to remember why emperor john god has given her the sword
and establishes that harrow previously did something to her jaw so that she couldn't tell her
that's going in the 3d model
CHAPTER 24
apparently people are being less mean to harrowbean because they're already mourning her
harrow says that alleged gideon the first aka ortus has the name ortus because "it was just a banal and uncomfortable coincidence, as though he'd carried the name of a dead childhood pet"
she believes that the name must have caught on in the ninth because anastasia must have like brought it in and named people after her pal
I think he's named gideon
and that our gideon is named after him because of direct relationship of some capacity, maybe to someone involved
I considered the mom, but it's uncertain
in any case, he has to die
so, harrow puts a lot of wards and safety things in her room
kind of like this
home alone styling it
but apparently alleged gideon the first aka ortus can bypass wards
much like the sleeper/waker
much like not!dulcinea
wards are basically pointless, I guess, at this point
so he goes into her bathroom when she's bathing because here in the emperor's bolthole, everyone's a disrespectful asshole
harrowbean says he's "a thanergy void" and "the ultimate nemesis of a bone adept"
he tries to kill her while she's looking like this
I want to give this child some cocoa and play a comfort movie for her, like "the bone collector"
she ended up using the teeth she lost in the fight as projectiles in his eyes and got him to leave
she ended up bloody, unmoving, wet, naked and collapsed on the ground to which yandere twin live reacted to and left
she could have given her a hand
or an arm
she decided alleged gideon had to die and ice cube barbie aka probably annabel lee agreed
when gideon was among us, there was not enough time for her to throw hands at people and here there's so many people she could be throwing hands at and she's not here to do so
camilla too, but camilla threw hands at martita in a way that was legendary enough
CHAPTER 25
harrow goes with the chisme to dr reverend professor emperor john
she says "I swear by the Locked Tomb"
to which he replies "I wouldn't swear by that in this instance"
which I sure hope doesn't mean anything nasty with my girl ice cube barbie annabel lee because I'm gonna kill this man
she might not be entirely alive (maybe she is, maybe she's just suspended or something) but she deserves better than this piece of work
then he says "well, that's unfortunate"
this man really knows how to handle a situation, huh
emperor john says that it's pretty unlikely that alleged gideon the first aka ortus was doing the dirty with not!dulcinea because he never showed interest before and is "legendarily unamorous"
that's another tshirt I need
I need that one and the witch one immediately
also, now we've got a problem
not just because my telenovela about how this man might or might not be related to our gideon got more convoluted
but also because if alleged gideon is aroace, I'm gonna have to stan
I don't make the rules over here, I have to stand by my people
I have a conflict of interest now
emperor john also says "you must think us all a depraved set of immortal criminals"
I mean yes, I do, but not because of sexy times with zombies
I'm not here to judge the sexytimes of necromancers and whatever they do in their spare time
I don't know the intricacies of consent with ghosts or whatever, I can't be imparting judgment
it's not that, emperor john
it's because you're unpleasant war criminals who are killing planets for fun
well, the war criminal part I don't have hard evidence on rn but the situation doesn't seem to be in the favor of these people
I feel like when this man talks about the overall situation I'm getting a speech from emperor palpatine
emperor reverend john asks harrow, who has been awake for 25 years, to go to sleep
yeah, sure, she should go to sleep and wait for this guy to come by and try to kill her for the millionth time
meanwhile, harrowbean keeps collecting hours without sleep like
she makes, at the request of emperor camp counselor john, soup for everyone
I don't remember if it was here or before and I forgot but, this is extremely important
they mentioned cassiopeia being the one who cooked before
cassiopeia the same one with the ceramics collection, if I'm remembering correctly
cassiopeia who was also from the sixth, I think
camilla's house
she's checking every single one of my boxes like a sniper
why isn't she here, we're stuck with the grumpy one and the senior chad
ANYWAY, at the mention of harrow cooking I thought, immediately, "that's an awesome way to kill this guy"
I was picturing more like a poison type situation, although I didn't know how that could be achieved
something like this
but I should have known poison was too subtle for harrowcita
like I established back when protozoa's head was found in her closet, subtle isn't harrow's style
so it was more like this
basically, harrow sectioned her tibia to put some in the soup and then she could necrobend it so that it attacked from the inside
if I'm getting it right
insane plan and I love it
emperor john shadyman says "ten thousand years since I've eaten human being, Harrow, and I didn't really want an encore."
were they snacking on people during the Resurrection???
did they kill people by making lunch?????
???????????????????????????????????????????
"you think we're bad because we have sexy times with ghoulies?? uwu" that's the least of my concerns johnny john man
harrow then breaks down and asks straight to his face WHY THE FUCK MUST SHE SUFFER LIKE THIS
she calls herself a nonsense
the only nonsense here is what this emperor man speaks
she tells him she hasn't slept in six days
for a sleep deprived plan, it was excellent tbh
emperor man over here asks yandere twin to take her to sleep
and then stays with mercygirl to whom he says it's insane that harrow could do what she did and how did mercygirl miss that
this is the situation, as I have previously established
augustine looks at harrow "as if he had seen the ghost of someone he did not particularly like"
alleged gideon the first aka ortus salutes her on her way out
he doesn't even have heartburn
CHAPTER 26
we're back on gideon-less canaan house because it's time for more people to die
in ways that make 0 sense at all for what we know so far
regina george twin is pushed to her death by mayonnaise uncle
sounds fake to me
like, come on
regina george twin can probably murder that feeble guy on sight
we saw her spar with gideon, she wanted to be the cav that chad ended up being
she might not be a necro but she can stand her ground in a physical fight
mayonnaise uncle without duracell bunny nephew is like a sweaty guy on an anime con complaining about girls ruining everything while buying a maid figurine
she can take him
anyway, he does that and he says to her "and somewhere out there, may all the blood of your blood suffer even a fraction of what I have suffered"
now, this is weird
is he talking about yandere twin?
he wants revenge because yandere twin obliterated him?
is yandere twin "out there"?
I'd say this might be limbo BUT CAMILLA ISN'T DEAD
harrow is going to him and he says "she has not remembered her end" "is this how it happens then?"
and then he yeeted himself into space
that's what I wanted to do with not!dulcinea all along
so, yeah, well, this canaan business is getting more complicated now that it's not just people being shot
people are throwing themselves and others into space
and the memories of harrow in the emperor's bolthole aren't completely lining up with these
and mayonnaise uncle seemed to have been more aware of things than others around here?? or maybe just more forthcoming??? in that cryptic otaku way of his
also, no camilla at all still
Things are heating up in the emperor's bolthole, hope to come back soon with another one and thanks for the patience, hope it was worth it.
#luly reacts to tlt#harrow the ninth#harrow the ninth spoilers#tlt spoilers#the locked tomb#long post#gif cw
138 notes
·
View notes
Text
⚔️⚔️ Sword gays showdown, grand finale ⚔️
*Camilla fanart by @friendamedes, used with permission
Propaganda:
For Camilla:
she prefers dual-wielding two short blades but can fight with pretty much anything. she's ambidextrous she's autistic she's even sex-repulsed ace. she sighs longingly when reunited with her weapons. she's from planet academia and dresses like an off-duty librarian. literally one of the most iconic moments of the entire series is when she gets challenged to a duel and absolutely wipes the floor with her opponent even though she doesn't even like rapiers that much. 'swords don't lie.'
OK I’m sure you’re getting just about every character from The Locked Tomb but Cam is my favorite. She's a nerd AND a jock. She is in this deeply intense and loving and unhealthily codependent soulbond partnership with her best friend second cousin and prince. She is smart and deadpan snarky and fights like a grease fire and I have never been able to get that line out of my head.
For Gideon:
she's incredibly good w/ her two hander and less good with her rapier but she's still pretty good!! she is a horny lesbian who's taste in women seems to exclusively be "girls who have tried or are going to try to kill her". she's a redhead. i love her
Gideon’s a HUGE Butch lesbian and literally always wanted to use a broad sword. Specifically a broad sword. She said fuck rapiers. Uhhh literally dies to save the girl she cares for and the sword she uses then becomes like an altar for said girl. Gideon Nav Supremacy <3
oh she is the most badass swordswoman lesbian in media. she’s her gf’s cavalier, defends her in battle, she’s incredibly butch and buff
C'mon shes THE sword lesbian like... canonically
Loves her broadsword more than anything on her home planet and practices whenever she can. Spoiler it’s possessed by her mom. Gave everything so her best enemy could eat her soul and become the new saint. The character of all time child of two separate threesomes, child of the god emperor, she’s dead, she’s butch, she’s a dork, she’s doomed by the narrative. She’s my favorite.
girlie is literally the swordswoman supreme. she’s the cavalier primary to her necromancer. she has a fuckoff huge longsword. she gets absorbed into another person SPECIFICALLY to swordfight for them. in a gay way too.
While everyone else was developing common sense, she studied the blade. This dyke's main weapon and true love is the long sword, but she's also passable with a rapier. The sword is, in her own estimation, pretty much all she's good for. That and her smoking hot bod and terribly charming sense of humor.
"While we were developing common sense, she studied the blade." (Direct quote from the book). She's the most useless lesbian to ever exist, and she's obsessed with an absolute wet cat of a woman. Learned longsword mostly on her own and is such a genius with the sword she learned rapier in a few months (by personal experience, it's really really hard)
Most badass broadsword wielding lesbian easily slaying bone monsters and evil space wasps
The cavalier to her necromancer. very gay. in a complicated codependant lovehate relationship with the only other person her age she knew growing up.
For Xena:
It is HER! The OG woman with a blade!
Her show was so iconic that any lesbian over the age of 30 knows her IMMEDIATELY because this show probably helped her have her awakening. Fandom foremothers and fathers rise up and get your gal a title.
An all around badass, bisexual woman, comfortable with many different bladed weapons. Her show was so much better than Hercules people forget his exists.
Xena is one of the OGs: once a baddie who turned good, she's a warrior who uses swords, daggers, and her trusty chakram to defeat evil and defend the innocent, while traveling with her kickass girlfriend Gabrielle.
She has many skills
117 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello! I love reading your stories and I was wondering if I could get a request please. It’s for Lockwood and Co. One day, Lockwood stumbled into a small bookstore because it was raining and there he finds the reader (and her dog, a boxer please) who owns the bookstore and they start talking and the reader doesn’t think anything about it (because she talks to all her customers the same way) but Lockwood starts showing up more often at the bookstore to just to talk to her and slowly but surely they start falling for each other. Thank you so much!!!
Bookstore Girl
a/n: this is by far the longest request I've written to date! I'm very proud of it and I'd defo be interested in writing a part two. I also just love me a good bookstore romance so this was super fun to write! i listened to the song bookstore girl by charlie burg a lot while writing this!! also there's quite a bit of tea related discussions and I have never made tea so pls don't scream at me I am simply american and unexperienced.
pairing: lockwood × fem!reader
word count: 3.3k
warnings: none
notices: a character in this oneshot uses neopronouns [ey/em]!! if you don’t know what they are, please check this out- and if you don’t support people who use neopronouns, do not interact. If you comment hate, you will be blocked. neopronoun users are valid and loved on my blog, and I won’t tolerate hate of any kind. if you use neoprouns- know that I love you and you will always have a place in my writing (as a person who goes by they/she/ey)
tags: @ikeasupremacy @oblivious-idiot @givemea-dam-break @tangledinlove @neewtmas @losticaruss @waitingforthesunrise [if yall want to be tagged when I post requests, lmk in the comments! also sorry if I forgot anyone!!]
It was a slow, rainier-than-normal London afternoon when you first met Anthony Lockwood.
“Hi there… Would you happen to have anywhere I could sit and… dry off?” You had been shelving what was left of a new shipment of classics you had just received when you’d heard a distressed patron behind you. “Oh yes, of course.” You said as you turned to face the customer, suppressing a laugh at the sight before you. A handsome figure stood behind you, their dark long coat absolutely dripping as they wrapped it around themselves, trying to salvage some sense of warmth. “We have a cafe in the back, follow me… and try not to drip too much.” You joked, and goddamn, of course the pretty customer had a pretty laugh.
“Apologies, uh… ma'am.” He said, noticing the pronoun pin on the strap of your apron. “I was just walking home and the storm came out of nowhere and one of my roommates broke my umbrella last week… long story.” They explained as you led them to the small cafe situated in the rear of the store. “Would you like anything? Cocoa, Tea?” You offered as they sat down at a small table near the entryway. “Oh, tea would be perfect, thank you.” They spoke, and you couldn’t help but notice the rapier attached to their hip as the sheath scraped gently across the hardwood floor.
“How do you take it?” Nellie, your best friend, business partner, and head barista, asked from behind the counter. “Hm- surprise me. However you take it is fine.” The customer said with a smile. You slipped behind the counter, brushing past Nellie as ey flitted about looking for the secret stash of eir favorite tea that ey always keep hidden, only taking from it on “special occasions”. Nellie winked at you as you slipped into the backroom, looking for the spare blanket you always keep back there for cold winter days. You rolled your eyes and shooed Nellie away, causing em to laugh. Finding the soft reserve blanket, you turned to take it to the sopping wet customer, only to find Nellie blocking your way.
“What are you doing?” Nellie asked, a slightly mischievous glint in eir eyes. “Getting our dripping wet customer a blanket. Why?” You asked, suspicious of Nellie’s train of thought. “He’s nice. Asked me my pronouns and told me he goes by he/him. He’s pretty cute too.” You scoffed. “What does that have to do with anything?” You laughed, causing Nellie to roll eir eyes at you. “You never let anyone use your blanket, not even me.” You laughed again. “Yeah, Nellie, well, you’re never sopping wet when you ask. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must attend to our customer.” You say, brushing past Nellie and ignoring eir laughter as you walked out of the backroom.
When you returned to the main floor, you noticed that the customer was no longer alone. “Bruce, leave the poor guy alone.” You laughed, watching as your dog, a Boxer, jumped up, front paws landing on the customer’s lap as the customer laughed. “It’s not a problem, honestly. He’s quite cute.” You smiled, handing the blanket to the customer, who took it with a soft “thank you” and an appreciative smile.
“I'm glad you think so. Some of our older patrons don't like that we have a dog around, but I could care less.” You say, bending down slightly to pet Bruce on the head as he jumped down from the customer's lap. “Is he yours?” The customer asked as he wrapped the blanket around his body. You nodded, sitting down at a chair opposite the patron.
“Yep. This place, too.” You said with a cheerful smile as Bruce jumped into your lap. “Oh! I had no clue I was in the presence of the owner.” You laughed, scratching behind Bruce's ears. “No, I'm serious, that's really cool. I run my own business too, but it's not… quite like this.” He chuckled, almost to himself, glancing down at the rapier on his hip.
“Wait- you run your own agency?” You asked, intrigued. You had vaguely heard of agents running their own agencies, but you hadn't necessarily believed that someone your age was capable of running something like that. And yet it kind of made sense, taking in his appearance- the long coat, white button down, black tie, and slightly too-tight pants gave the desired effect of making him look slightly older and a bit more authoritative.
He smiled and stuck out his hand. “Anthony Lockwood, of Lockwood & Co, at your service. Most people just call me Lockwood.” You smiled, shaking his hand in turn as Bruce grumpily whined at the loss of your hand. “[Name], of Read Rose Books. Pleasure to meet you, Lockwood. You know, I think I've heard of you. You did the Annabelle Ward Case a while back, right?” He nodded, a sparkle appearing in his eye at your mentioning of hearing of his agency. “Yes, that was us. It's a pleasure to meet you as well, [name].”
“And I'm Nellie.” Nellie had a knack for sneaking up on you at the worst times, and that day was no exception as Nellie had somehow crept up behind you without a sound. ~~The customer~~ Lockwood himself didn't seem to notice Nellie's presence, jumping about 3 feet in the air at eir arrival. Nellie set down Lockwood's tea, and he thanked em before taking a sip.
“Oh my god, this is amazing.” He said, turning to Nellie. “How did you do that? I've never tasted anything like it before.” You could see Nellie beam at Lockwood's praise, and you couldn't help but smile. “Secret recipe” was all Nellie said before ey flounced back behind the counter.
Lockwood chuckled, taking another sip. “George- one of my housemates, would love em. He's really into cooking too- makes all sorts of elaborate meals that always taste amazing.” You chuckled, looking back at Nellie. “Even I don't know what Nellie puts in there- ey've never told me.”
“If there's anyone who could get the recipe out of Nellie, it's George. He's an insanely good cook, and he loves tea more than the average person.” You both laughed softly before Lockwood spoke up again.
“Speaking of George, do you have a phone I could use to call home? Just to tell my housemates where I am.” “Oh, of course! Follow me.” With a distressed whine from Bruce, who had to depart from your lap, you got up off you chair and led a blanket-clad Lockwood over to the front desk, where your store phone was located. “Thank you so much, I should be quick.” He said, picking the phone up. “Don't worry about it, take as much time as you need.” You assured him. “I'll be right over there stocking some classics if you need me.” He nodded, and you walked back to where you had been dutifully stocking the beautiful new editions of Pride and Prejudice, making a mental note to leave one aside to purchase later for your own personal collection.
You were still within earshot, so you could hear most of the conversation that Lockwood was having (not that you were purposefully eavesdropping, of course- it was very quiet in the store so it was very hard to try and not hear his conversation. You did try, though.) Lockwood's conversation started with a “Hi George, I wanted to let you know that I'm ok-” before Lockwood was promptly cut off by a loud voice shouting at him, causing Lockwood to jump and have to hold the phone away from his ear for a moment.
“Hello to you too, Luce. Look, I'm fine- I got caught in the storm and *someone* broke my umbrella on that case last week so I had to seek shelter before it got too bad. Don't worry- I'm at that bookstore in town… The one George has been wanting to check out? Read Rose? The staff has been very nice and helped me to warm back up but I'm not sure when I'll be able to come home with how the storm is going.” A moment of silence followed as someone- Lucy, you assumed- spoke to Lockwood. The quiet was broken only by the sound of books being pushed into their respective slots on the shelves.
“No, no, Lucy, you are not coming to get me. I don't care if you broke my umbrella, I won't allow you to walk over here in the rain- Lucy? Lucy?!” And then Lockwood let out a frustrated sigh and put the phone back down on the receiver. You looked back up at him, stifling a laugh at his exasperated expression. “I guess one of my housemates is coming to retrieve me.” He laughed, running a hand through his still-wet hair as he looked outside at the still raging storm. “From what I could hear, they sound very stubborn.” He chuckled. “Oh, she is. Lucy is insanely stubborn, believe me.” You laughed, liking the picture you were putting together in your head of this Lucy already. “To be fair, something tells me you're fairly stubborn yourself.” You chuckled. Lockwood gasped, putting a hand to his heart. “You wound me.” He said, and you both fell in to laughter.
Your laughs subsided after a moment, and you fell into a comfortable silence as you stocked and Lockwood walked around, perusing the aisles of books. You two stayed like that for a couple of minutes, and you had never been more content to just be quiet with someone before. “Now I understand why George has been bugging me to visit here for so long. We haven't had much time- cases have been piling up so George is either at home or at the Archives most of the time these days.” You nodded in understanding as he took a book off a shelf near you and examined the cover.
“I get it. Not the agency work- I don't have any Talents. The stress, I mean. My grandmother owned this place and passed it down to me when she passed. Every day there's something new to take care of or a new problem that comes up.” You laughed as you put the last book on the shelf. Lockwood laughed as well. “I know exactly what you mean. You love it though, don't you?” He asked, turning to you. He smiled as your eyes met his, and you gave him a smile in return. “Yeah,” You said softly. “I really do.”
He grinned, and was opening his mouth to say something when there was a sudden noise at the door, and then there was a borderline soaked girl holding an umbrella standing breathless in the doorway. This must be Lucy, you thought to yourself. She was obviously righteously pissed, her hair dripping as she tried desperately to control the bangs that were matted to her forehead. “Lockwood, you idiot.” She said, shoving the umbrella at Lockwood and turning to face you. She sent a look Lockwood's way, which you translated to say something like “who is this?”. Lockwood smiled.
“Lucy, this is [name], owner of Read Rose Books. She and her friend Nellie have been very welcoming and helped me to get warm. [Name], this is my associate, Lucy Carlyle.” Lucy rolled her eyes, elbowing Lockwood in the ribs and whispering something like “you can just introduce me as your friend, you dickhead” before she turned her attention to you, smiled, and stuck out her hand for you to shake. You did, softly saying “nice to meet you”, as did Lucy. “Thank you for taking care of this one.” Lucy said after your handshake had ended, pointing to Lockwood. You laughed. “It was no problem at all, really.”
Lockwood moved to return the blanket you you, but you refused. “You need it more than I do. Just make sure to return it whenever you can, ok?” He smiled appreciatively, nodding in understanding before Lucy grabbed him by the arm ans hauled him to the door. “Thank you again!” Lockwood yelled at the same time Lucy said “Have a nice night!”, and then they were out the door and the shop was silent again.
Nellie was there within seconds, pressing a warm cup of cocoa into your hand. “I'm never getting that blanket back, am I?” You asked em softly. “Probably not, no.” Ey agreed.
---
It was a week until you saw Anthony Lockwood again.
It was sunny outside this time, and you had a pretty nice crowd going inside the small Read Rose venue. You were just finishing up a customer's transaction, barely had the words “have a good one” out of your mouth, when you saw him enter the store. He had on the same outfit, but his hair was more styled, in a totally not attractive way. He was entering the shop with someone who you didn't recognize. They were slightly shorter, with brown skin and curly dark hair and glasses.
You noticed the second that Lockwood found you, watching his eyes light up and a smile form on his face as he waved. You waved back and returned the smile when you saw what Lockwood was carrying in his left hand.
“I was thinking I'd never see that blanket again.” You joked as Lockwood and his companion walked up to the front counter. Lockwood chuckled. “I see how little faith you have in me.” He spoke as he passed the blanket over to you. “Well, she's not exactly unfounded. Remember that time I leant you a sweatshirt and I didn't get it back for a month?” You laughed as you placed the folded blanket on a shelf beneath the counter, not seeing Lockwood sharply elbow his companion in the ribs.
“Anyways, [Name], this is my best friend and business associate, George Karim. He's the one I told you about that's really good at cooking. ” You reached out your hand for George to shake, but he ignored it and turned to examine your store. Within seconds, he was walking away to an aisle that had caught his eye, leaving you behind with Lockwood as you yelled out a rushed, “it was nice to meet you!”
Lockwood smiled apologetically. “Don't mind him. He's au- he can be a bit brash, but he's a good guy, once you get to know him.” You smiled back as you waved your hand in a dismissing manner. “Don't worry about it. I hope I do. Get to know him, that is. Lockwood & Co. seems like a very fun bunch.”
All Lockwood could do was smile before George returned, informing you that they would be back soon but they had a case that night that they had to prepare for. You nodded in understanding. “I'll look forward to your next visit. Be safe out there.” One last dazzling smile from Lockwood and he was gone, being borderline pushed outside by George as you laughed.
---
It went on like that for weeks- at least once a week, Anthony Lockwood would wander into your shop, only once or twice actually buying a book. You got to know each other fairly well- you learned that he hated sugar in his tea, that he always wore pink socks, that he didn't always wear suits, and that he started wearing [favorite color] ties whenever he came to visit after you told him it was your favorite color.
You learned that his favorite genres were classics and mystery (and that he had a bit of an obsession with gossip magazines). Often times, he would come in right before closing a couple times a week and sit and read with you to pass the time before you closed and walked you to your flat a block away.
Every time this happened, Nellie would leave work a half an hour before you and give you a set of totally non-subtle winks before flitting off into the sunset. Lockwood never seemed to notice eir suggestive winks, and if he did, he never appeared too flustered.
Nellie would corner you every morning after, grilling you for every detail. “Why do you even care?” You would say, laughing as you unlocked the storefront. “Because a super hot guy is obviously falling for my best friend!” Ey would exclaim, and you would roll your eyes and laugh it away, making sure to change the subject while you tried not to dwell on the possibility that Nellie was right.
---
“Well, well, well, if it isn't my favorite bookseller. Do you ever take a day off?” You laughed from your perch on one of the bookshelf ladders, looking down to see Lockwood standing below you, a smile on his face and his hands on his hips. You laughed. “Hi, Lockwood. To what do I owe the pleasure?” You bent over, grabbing a book to put up on the top shelf.
“I was sent by George to search for a book he was looking for.” Came the reply, not an uncommon excuse. You turned to reach for another book to stock, but you realized that Lockwood was holding out a book for you. “Thank you.” You said softly, and he looked up from the synopsis of a book in his hand to smile at you. “Of course. It seems you're a bit of a workaholic- I'd love to help in any way I can.” You laughed as you shelved the book.
“You're one to talk. Pretty much every time you come in here you've got that getup on and intense bags under your eyes.” You joked as you descended the ladder, taking the empty box from Lockwood's hands.
“Well, one needs to be a little bit obsessed to lead a top agency, don't they?” He asked, following you to the cafe. Nellie brightened as ey saw Lockwood trailing after you, calling out and asking if Lockwood wanted anything. “Yes, please, Nellie. Could you by any chance make your secret recipe tea to go? I really need to get going, but I was in the area and I just wanted to stop by.” Nellie smiled. “Aye aye, captain.” Ey said before they started the tea making process.
“I thought you came in to look for a book for George.” You said, turning to him with an eyebrow raised and a smile on your face. You giggled as you watched Lockwood flush. “Ah, yes, well, you see-” He was so caught up in his mumbling that he didn't realize that Nellie had appeared next to him, a bag in eir hand. “Jesus, Nellie.” Lockwood jumped, and Nellie chuckled. “Not Jesus- people do often get us confused.” Nellie joked before pushing the bag in front of him.
“What's this?” Lockwood asked, cocking a brow. "A gift for you, George and Lucy. For being such great patrons.” Lockwood smiled. “You really don't have to-” Lockwood started to speak, but Nellie interrupted him. “I insist.” Ey said before turning and running away before Lockwood could fight anymore.
Lockwood turned to you and scoffed. You chuckled. “Ey really like making baked goods for people.” You explained. Lockwood smiled, and the two of you lapsed into a comforting silence, taking in the slow crowd that filled in and out of Read Rose Books.
After a moment, Lockwood broke the silence. “Are you- would you be amenable to visiting Portland Row tonight?” His question caught you off guard, but you smiled nonetheless. “I could be convinced. Why? What's in Portland Row?” You asked, turning to look at him. He smiled softly, a soft flush dusting his cheeks. “Lockwood & Co. We just finished a pretty big successful case so we're throwing a small get together at the house, if you wanted to come?” He asked, and you could sense the nerves radiating off of him. You smiled, nudging his shoulder as you turned to face away from him, trying to draw attention away from the blush that was slowly spreading across your face.
“I'd love to.”
eeeek thank you so much for reading!! pls leave feedback, it truly makes my day :) also if you want to request or see my other works, my masterlist is linked in my about me post which is pinned :)
I love you all so much, remember to stay hydrated, and I hope yall have an amazing day!!! mwah
xoxo linnie <3
#lockwood and co#renew lockwood and co#anthony lockwood#lucy carlyle#george karim#locklyle#george cubbins#locklyle brainrot is real#lockwood netflix#save lockwood and co#anthony lockwood x reader#lockwood x reader#lockwood and co x reader#linnifer writes#anthony j lockwood#save l&co#save lockwood#savelockwoodandco#save lockwood & co#bring back lockwood & co#bring back lockwood and co#bring back 35 portland row#togetherforlockwoodandco#together for lockwood and co#cameron chapman#ruby stokes#ali hadji hehsmati#lockwood and co imagines#lockwood and co fandom#locknation
184 notes
·
View notes
Text
Nightmares // Part II
A/N: this was so hard to write omg I struggled so bad with writer's block. I hated it pretty much all throughout the writing process, but now I think it might be not as bad as I thought. I hope everyone likes it! thanks to the anon for the request <3
pairing: george karim x fem!reader
wordcount: 4k
request: hey bae, love your work i was wondering if i could request a pasty two to nightmares pretty please <333 maybe where reader starts going to hunt ghosts cause she’s fully trained and george just freaking out all the time !!! thanks so much - by anon
taglist: @maraschinomerry @marinalor @oblivious-idiot @lockwood-lover @givemea-dam-break
part I masterlist
"I want to become an agent."
The conversation around the dinner table died down immediately, and Lockwood, George and Lucy simultaneously turned to you.
"What?"
"I said, I want to become an agent", you repeated firmly, "I want you to train me so I can join you in the field."
"Y/N, I don't think that is a good -", George started, but Lockwood interrupted him immediately. "No, it's a great idea! We do need reinforcement. I thought about hiring another agent, but training you - that would be much easier."
George huffed, and you felt a pang in your chest. Did he think you weren't good enough? You thought back to a few days ago - when you spent the night in his bed, wrapped in his arms. Were you wrong to interpret this the way you did?
"George, she'll do just fine", Lucy said, and he sighed. "I don't doubt that, I just - I don't want you to get hurt, Y/N." His eyes met yours, and for a second you forgot how to breathe. The way he looked at you had your heart beating faster, and you reached over the table to where his hand laid on the wood. But in the last moment, your courage left you and so your hand came to rest right next to his, fingers almost touching.
"I know, but I just want to be able to defend myself. And I don't want a repeat of…", you trailed off, but the unsaid words hung heavy in the air. You and George hadn't talked about what exactly had happened that night, and your nightmares had mostly subsided, but you hadn't forgotten how you felt when you thought he was in danger. Lucy cleared her throat. "You know we're still here, right?" Your face flushed red and you pulled your hand off the table with lightning speed. "I just want to be more than a measly assistant. I have the talent, and I'm willing to train and do everything you ask of me."
Lockwood nodded, satisfied. "I'll write you a training plan. The only thing you need to learn is how to use a rapier. You've handled enough of our equipment to be sufficiently educated on that front, everything else you'll learn in the field."
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
The plan Lockwood had cooked up included daily training, rotating through all other members as training partners at least twice a week. That worked out for about three weeks, and then slowly but surely, George took over all your training sessions. You and Lucy always ended up joking around too much and your sessions mostly ended with you both lying on the floor together, talking about everything and nothing. The second time Lockwood had caught you on the floor, giggling to each other with your rapiers discarded in the corner, he had banned Lucy from teaching you. Training with Lockwood was usually more successful, but after a few weeks, he started ditching you so George had to pick up those sessions as well. You had a sneaking suspicion that this was Lucy's doing. Not that it was an issue in any way, on the contrary, you were more than happy to spend time with George.
After the one night you had spent in his bed, you hadn't dared to go back even though you still had nightmares now and then - not because you didn't want to, but because the whole situation was so confusing. Now more than ever, you were sure there was something between you, but you didn't know what it was and whether George felt the same. If you were honest with yourself and looked at everything without your rose-coloured glasses, his actions - no matter how fluttery they made you feel - could be categorized as purely friendly and platonic. Your feelings on the other hand were anything but platonic, but you weren't about to embarrass yourself by misreading any signals. Instead, you told yourself you were just fine with him being nothing more than your friend and training partner.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
“Are you ready?” George asked and offered you one of the practice rapiers from the stack in the corner. You nodded, taking it from him and wrapping your fingers around the cool metal of the handle. Since starting your training, you’d quickly become more proficient with the rapier and the way you managed to inflict some serious damage on Joe and Esmeralda was a far cry from the awkward stumbling around George had to watch in the beginning.
“We’re going to focus on your footwork today. You’re already doing well with your grip and upper body, but a good and light stance is equally important and you tend to be a little stiff.”
You blushed at his compliment and simultaneous critique and quickly moved into the middle of the room, getting into the standard position Lockwood had taught you in your very first lesson.
George followed you and mimicked your stance. You were acutely aware of how little distance was between you, even though the entire room was empty and George really didn’t have to stand that close.
“Right. So this is your standard starting position. But, in an actual combat situation, your opponent, be it human or ghost, usually won’t be courteous enough to let you set up your ideal position first. You need to be able to apply all the maneuvres you learnt even if you don’t have a perfectly flat surface and time for preparation.”
You tried to listen closely as he elaborated on different techniques, but it didn’t take very long for your eyes to wander. You took in all the small details on his face, every single freckle, the way his dark lashes slightly curled upwards - “Are you listening to me?”
His gaze caught yours and you stared at him for a moment, wide-eyed and taken by surprise. “What?”
“I’m asking if you’re listening to me, Y/N” he repeated and you nodded quickly, hoping the dim light of the basement would conceal the blush burning on your cheeks. He looked at you for a moment, and you almost squirmed under how intense his gaze felt. The tension between you was palpable, but then he broke eye contact and resumed his explanations.
All of the training sessions went something like this. George would explain something and, at some point, drift off into a tangent that you gladly listened to - though it was more looking than listening if you were honest.
But sometimes, he would also explain certain moves more hands-on, and that's when you were really in trouble. Him standing close to you was one thing, but him adjusting your grip with his hands on yours, or worse, him reaching around you to demonstrate the way the rapier was supposed to move was an entirely different thing. Feeling him pressed up against your back, with his arms around you and his hands on yours had your heart beating out of your chest and made it hard to focus on anything else. When he stepped back and waited for you to perform the moves he just showed you by yourself, more often than not you were far too flustered to do so. Which just meant he'd show you again, making everything worse.
It drove you crazy that he could make you feel this way with just a single innocent touch. It shouldn't be this way. Yes, he had let you sleep in his bed that one night, and maybe you weren't entirely delusional to think that it meant something, but you were still just friends.
On the other hand, Lockwood had never hugged you for the sake of explaining fencing moves to you. Lockwood had never let you sleep in his bed. Yet that was what he would do for Lucy and you know how he felt about her.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ Several weeks later ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
You stood in the dimly lit basement, breathing heavily as you lowered your rapier until its tip scraped over the concrete floor. Esmeralda, the straw doll, was swinging back and forth, and you turned to your three colleagues who stood by the wall, watching you. The pieces of straw you had whacked out of Esmeralda crunched under your boots as you walked over to the rack to put the rapier away. George offered you a glass of water and you took a sip while looking at Lockwood expectantly.
He had his arms crossed, a solemn expression on his face, and for a moment you were scared, but then he couldn't hold back his smile any longer.
"Congrats Y/N, you did very well. I'd love to welcome you to Lockwood & Co in the position of a field agent."
"Really?!" He nodded, but you weren't even looking at him anymore. Instead, you leapt over to a surprised George, who opened his arms just in time to catch you as you threw your arms around him and hugged him tightly. He took a few seconds to recuperate, then his hands came to rest on your lower back. "Thank you", you whispered in his ear. Lockwood cleared his throat and you quickly stepped back, remembering that he and Lucy stood right next to you. In your peripheral, you could see George scratch the back of his neck, eyes focused on his feet.
"As I was saying", Lockwood continued with a raised eyebrow, "you can now join us in the field. If you want, we can go get you a rapier right now so you don't have to use one of the practice ones."
You nodded, doing your best to stay composed and not just jump up and down with giddiness. Finally, you had the chance to prove yourself as an agent. Never again did you want to be in a situation where the people closest to you were in danger yet you couldn't help them. You refused to ever feel that weak and useless again.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
That evening you left 35 Portland Row with a spring in your step, your brand-new rapier securely at your side, and your hand resting on top of it. Lockwood had made sure that tonight's case would be a simple one for you to get accustomed to what working as an agent meant.
When you climbed out of the cab 20 minutes later, the house towered over you, the setting sun behind it. A cold shiver ran down your back as you realised there was no backing down now, no matter what awaited you behind the dark, wooden door. George walked past you, hand brushing past your fingers so briefly that you wondered if it even happened. He gave you an encouraging smile as he grabbed your bag to carry it up to the house. You took a deep breath and followed him.
The door closed behind you, and for a moment, everything was quiet. "This is usually where you get your first impressions", Lucy whispered, standing next to you with closed eyes. "I'm not getting anything right now, but it's always good to try in case there is something." "Make sure to do it inside the house though", Lockwood added. "Never linger on the threshold."
You watched them carefully as they set up in the kitchen, George making tea, Lockwood and Lucy going through the bags and setting the equipment out on the table. George gave you the first cup of tea he poured and you sat down, looking at your reflection in the amber liquid in front of you. You weren't sure how you felt. A part of you still felt excited, but a much bigger part was growing anxious over what was waiting for you.
"It's seven now, and the sun is gone, so we'll get started on exploring the house", Lockwood said after taking a sip from his tea. "Y/N, since this is your first case you can choose who you want to pair up with."
Without thinking, you immediately looked over to George. "Is that okay?" you trailed off questioningly and he gave you a soft smile. "Of course, always." You smiled back, warmth spreading in your chest.
Lucy, who sat next to you, mumbled something under her breath but you didn't quite catch it. "Well then let's go. George and Y/N, you'll go upstairs, we stay down here. Report back when you're done."
Silently, you watched as they put on their belts stuffed with salt bombs, matches, candles and silver nets. You knew those very well, you had refilled them more times than you could count. But you had never worn one, the weight on your shoulder feeling foreign as you stuffed some more salt bombs in the pockets of your jacket just for good measure. Lockwood patted your shoulder and Lucy gave you a thumbs up before they left the kitchen and then you were alone with George. "Do you feel ready?", he asked and you looked around the kitchen. In the warm light of the oil lamp, it looked cosy and homely. In contrast to that the rest of the house seemed cold and dark. "Yes", you replied.
You left the kitchen and turned right where, at the end of the hallway, a narrow staircase lead up to the second floor. Your eyes took a moment to adjust to the darkness, but slowly you could make out more and more of your surroundings as you followed George down the hallway. The plush carpet muffled the sounds of your steps, and you moved your hand to rest on your rapier, immediately feeling better. There was no reason to be scared.
A while later, you met back in the kitchen to report your findings, which weren't many. George had shown you how to take the temperature in every room so that was something you could do now, and you had also tried to use your talent of touch but had come up empty.
Lockwood made the second round of tea, and you noticed how this time, Lucy got the first cup. They had much more to tell as they had located the most probable location for the source somewhere in the downstairs office. "It was really cold in there", Lucy said, hands wrapped around her steaming cup of tea. "Much colder than it should have been, based on the time." You stayed in the kitchen for a while, before you gathered your chains and moved over to the office about an hour before midnight.
After you watched them set up, keeping close to the door yourself to not get in the way, the four of you gathered inside the iron circle. The room was dark, the moonlight pouring in through the two windows not doing much. You felt the urge to switch on the flashlight you had strapped to your belt but knew that it would just make it worse. Instead, you tried your best to make out the outlines of the furniture around you. The walls were lined with bookshelves that reached up to the ceiling, and every compartment looked to be stuffed with books, stacks of paper, and other things you couldn't quite identify in the dark even though you stood so close.
The only thing that was clearly visible was a large desk by the window, the polished wood lightly reflecting the little moonlight the clouds let through. You stood side by side with George, shoulders touching slightly. You wished you were even closer. When you shifted your weight over to the other foot, your hand accidentally brushed against his and you drew a sharp breath. You didn't dare to look over at him when suddenly you felt his hand slip into yours. Now you were thankful to the dark for hiding your blush and hoped he wouldn't be able to hear the way your heart was beating erratically. Your fingers intertwined and then you stood there, shoulder to shoulder, and the anxiety that had been growing in you since you stepped into the room somewhat subsided.
The temperature had dropped quickly, and you shivered slightly, now glad that you brought a jacket. Suddenly, George squeezed your hand and when you looked at him, he slightly nodded over to the far corner, where you could see fog gathering and swirling over the floorboards. You watched the white whisps travel higher until they formed something that resembled a human form. Sight wasn't your thing, so you couldn't make out any details but what you were seeing was enough.
"We wait a little longer and then I'll go out", Lockwood whispered, eyes trained on the shape that was slowly floating closer. "Luce, you'll search for the source, and Y/N and George, you back her up." He drew his rapier in a swift and effortless motion, waited another few seconds until the apparition had reached the middle of the room and then stepped over the chain. The apparition immediately glowed brighter, seemingly noticing him and he moved forward, rapier moving through the air so quickly that you almost got dizzy watching him. Seeing that made you painfully aware of how much of a beginner you still were.
Lucy hurried out of the circle as well, choosing to go around the desk to not alert the ghost of her presence and you wanted to follow her, but George pulled you back. "Let's stay here for a moment", he whispered, hand still holding yours. You nodded, watching Lucy kneel on the floor and rummage through the stacks of books and papers. Lockwood was still working on keeping the ghost in check, but you could tell by the way the temperature had dropped further and the papers on the shelves were rustling in the wind that the apparition had gained strength.
"You stay here," George said hastily before he pulled out his rapier and joined Lockwood. You stood for a moment, helplessly watching the scene unfold in front of you. "Y/N!" Lucy called over to you, motioning you to come, and without thinking you left the safety of the iron circle and ran over to her. "The source must be somewhere around here", she said, "I think it's one of the books."
You looked over your shoulder briefly to see Lockwood and George still busy with the ghost whose shape was now so clear that you could make out little details in its clothes. You started ripping out books from the lowest compartment. "What are we looking for exactly?", you asked, your breath white in front of you in the cold of the room. "I have no idea, but you'll notice when you find it" Lucy replied, raising her voice over the increasing wind that was now strong enough to pick up some of the paper stuffed into the shelves. You got up, starting to pull out books from the higher compartments, unceremoniously dropping them behind you. About 30 seconds later Lucy yelled. "I think I got it! Salt bombs, Lockwood!"
Suddenly everything happened very quickly. Behind you, the room exploded into white light, and you squeezed your eyes shut at the sudden brightness, stumbling back and right into the books you had just dropped. You could feel yourself losing balance and with flailing arms, you fell. You braced for an impact that never came, instead, arms wrapped around your midsection and stopped your fall. You slowly opened your eyes and turned your head to find George behind you. You tried your best to ignore the way he was holding onto you and to find your footing again. When you stood securely, he slowly lowered his arms and you immediately missed his touch. "Are you okay?" he asked. You nodded and were just about to say something when he looked up and behind you, shock overtaking his expression.
You tried to turn around but were pushed back as he threw himself against you, making you stumble again. This time you didn't fall, instead your back hit the wall next to the shelf, forcing the air out of your lungs. George was pressed up against you, and behind him, several thick stacks of papers and documents tumbled out of the shelf and hit the ground right where you stood a few seconds ago. But you didn't even notice, because all you could think about was how close he was, chest against yours, faces just inches from each other and somehow his hand had found yours again. You stared at each other, and you swore his eyes dropped down to your lips for a second before he took a step back, letting go of your hand and clearing his throat. "Are you okay?", he asked, pushing his glasses up his nose, voice sounding a little unsteady. You just nodded, feeling too overwhelmed to get out even a single word.
The office was a mess, papers and books everywhere, all covered in the salt that crunched under the sole of your shoes as you made a few wobbly steps forward. "Well, that's what I call a success", Lockwood exclaimed, wiping off some imaginary dust from his coat. As usual, he seemed unfazed by the chaos around him.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
Packing up didn't take long, and soon you were back in 35 Portland Row, where George immediately set the kettle on the stove for the next round of tea. Lockwood and Lucy soon excused themselves to their respective rooms, so then it was just you and George left.
You sat at the table, feeling tired now that the adrenaline had worn off, and you watched George making and pouring the tea. You liked watching him in the kitchen because he seemed so relaxed and always like he knew exactly what he was doing. He carried the two steaming cups over to the table and sat down in the chair next to you.
For a while, you sat in comfortable silence, sipping on your tea. Every now and then, you allowed your gaze to wander over to him before quickly looking away again in hopes he wouldn't catch you.
"Do you still have nightmares?", he broke the silence.
You looked at him, surprised by the question. "A few", you hesitantly answered. "Every now and then. Why?"
He was quiet for a while, staring down at his hands that fidgeted with the teaspoon. "Because you didn't come back to my room. I was wondering if that's because you just didn't have nightmares anymore or because you didn't want to. Guess I have my answer."
"Oh." You tried to search for the right words. "But - I wanted to, George. Every night. I didn't because I wasn't sure how you felt about it."
He turned to you. "Are you kidding? I thought I made it very clear how I felt about it. How I felt about you", he added, much more quietly.
You bit your lip. "How you feel about me?", you repeated breathlessly, words threatening to get stuck in your throat.
He reached over to take your hand. "Can I maybe try something?", he asked, and you nodded, heart beating out of your chest from the way he looked at you in the dim, warm light.
He leaned forward slightly, the hand that wasn't holding yours coming up to rest on your cheek as he pulled you in gently. Your eyes fluttered shut just as his lips met yours in a soft kiss. When he pulled away, you slowly opened your eyes again to find him already looking at you, with a smile so full of love that you felt even more dizzy than the kiss had left you. His thumb rubbed over the back of your hand.
"That's how I feel about you."
thanks for reading, feedback is appreciated :))
#george karim x reader#george karim#lockwood and co#lockwood and co x reader#lockwood & co#lockwood & co x reader
144 notes
·
View notes
Text
“Our Sinful Desires” (Astarion x Tav)
-> pairing: Astarion x Tav
-> content: sexual tension/seduction, sfw (stops just before it gets nsfw)
-> summary: Tav asks for a lesson in the rapier through a game of fencing. Astarion uses this opportunity to finally bridge the gap between him and Tav that he’d been building up to for weeks. Timed a few weeks after Tav first lets him bite her.
-> notes: wrote this from a prompt from @thefreak0fhawkinshigh about a romantically charged fencing session between Astarion and Tav hehe. I love reading sexual tension but I’ve never WRITTEN it before, I probably agonized too much about this one shot and I still don’t know if I like it but I hope you enjoy 🥹 The vision is that Astarion isn’t totally manipulating her here, he is actually interested her as well (which I HC Astarion was always a little interested even when manipulating her into a “tactical alliance” in the game, if you have high approval with him). But Tav is stubborn, and tries to fight a losing battle 😁
—————
Why was he doing this? he wondered.
Except he knows exactly why. The menace of a woman in front of him had seen him messing around with his rapier in camp, and had begged him to teach her a few concepts through a game of “fencing”.
He vaguely remembers the dull sport from his days as a magistrate in Baldur’s Gate, but he was rare to partake in it himself. His talents were more suited as a means to an end, rather than an enjoyment in and of itself.
However, Astarion found it exhaustingly hard to say no to Tav’s puppy eyes whenever she asked him for a favour.
No matter. He’d use this opportunity to his advantage.
In fact, this is the opportunity he’d been waiting weeks for. An opportunity he’d been building up to for weeks now, ever since Tav had allowed him to sup from her blood.
“So darling, ready to begin?”
“Born ready,” Tav said, as she adjusted the mesh armor she was wearing. He insisted on the two wearing chain mesh armor, and he had procured wood-fashioned rapiers for the two of them - they had surprisingly the same hand-feel as the real thing, but would help prevent any … accidental dangers.
He smirked. “I’d be careful, darling. I may make it look easy, but there’s a lot more… finesse to this sword than you might think.”
Tav pouted. “Think I can’t handle it?”
“Not at all,” he purred. Tav eyes widened for a second, but quickly composed herself, which earned a smirk from Astarion. “I just wouldn’t want you to hurt that pretty little head of yours.”
Tav’s pout began to turn into a frown. “Let’s just get to it, then,” Tav grumbled, and Astarion chuckled. She was right where he wanted her.
“Tsk tsk. First, you must bow,” Astarion wagged his finger at Tav.
“… You’re kidding me?” Tav questioned, as she got visibly more frustrated.
“It’s a part of the art, my dear” he stated, as if it was obvious. “I didn’t make the rules,” he shrugged.
Actually, the rule was to salute, but she didn’t need to know that.
Tav grumbled to herself, something about why she thought this was even a good idea, he thinks he heard. Astarion chuckled to himself. They both bow to each other, at the hip, holding the position for a moment.
As they bow, Astarion looked down towards her, as her head was tilted downwards. He thought about how he rather liked her in that position.
Tav happened to glance upward, and saw Astarion looking down at her through her lashes. She blushed as she saw Astarion’s stare on her, earning a smirk from him.
She stood up with an irritable look on her face, and Astarion chuckled yet again.
“Alright darling, show me what you got,” he said, facing his rapier upward.
Tav had a general understanding of how fencing worked - she had been the one to suggest it, after all. The trick was using the finesse of the weapon to hit the opponent, without giving them on opportunity to feint out of the way. A feat in Dexterity, one that Astarion did not lack.
Astarion settled in a stance, one that Tav tried to mimic. Astarion smiled at that. He knew he had the upper hand here, but Tav was doing her best to make a show of her own dexterity.
Tav attempted to make her first jab at Astarion, but he easily feinted out of the way. Astarion took his chance while she was off her balance to strike, his sword grazing her mesh armor lightly, as to not actually hit her.
“I guess that’s a point for me, love,” Astarion said with a smug look on his face.
“Lucky strike,” she muttered, as she settled herself back in her stance.
Astarion laughed. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, darling,” he said as he settled into his stance again, opting to wait for Tav to strike again. He knew she would, not being the patient type.
And strike again she did. A frustrated huff escaped her as she missed once again, by quite a margin. Astarion barely had to parry away to avoid her blade.
“I see why you wanted the lesson, darling,” Astarion taunted. “You’re going to need to do much better than that …” he said, as he took a step closer into her range.
Tav hesitated as he did, becoming acutely aware of how much closer they were getting without her awareness. Her gaze narrowed, but there was a tenseness as she seemed to get lost in his gaze. In her moment of hesitation, Astarion grinned, taking his chance.
Astarion lunged, the blade of his sword grazing hers, a clash echoing in the air. As their swords met, he used the momentum to pull himself in to her until they were standing right in front of each other. Not anticipating this, Tav did not have the chance to pull away, and she found herself staring up into his crimson eyes, a look akin to a deer in headlights.
“My, my, darling, I had expected a little more skill from you than this,” Astarion purred, as he watched Tav’s eyes adjust to the closeness of Astarion’s body to hers, only to attempt to face away.
“How am I supposed to when you’re not playing fair?” Tav grumbled, averting her eyes downward, refusing to look him in the face.
Astarion chuckled darkly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, as if matter-of-factly. “I am just playing the sport.” He quirked his head, as if examining her, a knowing smile on his face. “Perhaps you can tell me where your mind is wandering to then …. if we’re throwing accusations around.”
He slightly adjusted his stance, just enough so that his lower body pulled closer to Tav, and his hand lightly rests on Tav’s waist. He heard a light intake of breath that Tav obviously tries to hide. Astarion watched as Tav eyes shifted, her mind at war with her logical side, vs. the side that felt an incessant need to melt into Astarion’s stare. To add to the agony, he caressed her hip with his thumb, small circles meant to soothe and lower her guard.
Tav’s eyebrows furrowed.
“And why would you think my mind is elsewhere?” Tav said, attempting to maintain composure, but there is a slight rasp to her voice as she spat out the words.
“Mm,” Astarion hummed, in a low whisper, leaning ever closer towards her, until his breath fanned her face. “Well, I’m a pretty good reader of body language. I can see when a person’s eyes dilate, when they lose focus. I can feel the quickening of their heartbeat, when they hold their breath, the little tremors when they’re held close. And darling…you have all the tells.”
Tav did not move, trying not think about how close they were, considering her response. “And let’s say your judgement is actually right…. what would you say about it?”
Astarion pretended to consider, raising the hand that was on her hip, to brush against her cheek, earning a jolt from Tav. “I would say that…. perhaps it’s time to let your guard down, for once.”
Tav was surprised. That was not what she was expecting to come from his lips. “What?” she said, slightly affronted.
“I’ve watched you, you know,” Astarion said. “ You help people as if it does not mean a thing in the world, but you remain closed off - to your own needs, your own wants… your own desires.”
Tav scoffed. “What importance do my desires have with everything that’s going on?”
“On the contrary, darling, I happen to think one’s desires are very important. It’s not a sin to give in to your desires sometimes… no matter how sinful those desires may be,” Astarion smiled smugly. “How is one to remain sane amongst the chaos?”
“Hah,” Tav muttered, trying to remain indignant but with not much bite left to her words. “I’m sure your desires are always sinful…”
Astarion lips twitched upward at that remark. He held the silence between them for a moment longer, considering, the tension like a taut string.
Astarion finally smiles. “But, perhaps I am wrong after all. Tell me, then…” he tilted his head as he inched towards her lips. “Would you stop me … if I did this?” he whispered against her, before he finally closed the distance.
As their lips met, Astarion entwined his hand in her own, releasing both their grips on their swords. They clattered onto the floor, but neither of them paid attention to the sound - both entranced by feeling of their lips against each others’.
Tav was the first to pull away, eyes wide at the realization of what just happened, and that she had let it happen. Astarion’s eyes, on the other hand, were hooded, and had darkened in a way that had a shiver running through Tav. He doesn’t let go of her hand.
“Well, my dear, tell me … have I read you right?”
As Astarion looked into her eyes, he knew he had her.
“Fuck you,” Tav answered. But she held fast onto his hand.
Astarion grinned. Jackpot. “Oh my darling, I’d love to.”
——————
Should I make a part 2???
My AO3 and Twitter 🙂
MASTERLIST
#baldurs gate 3 fanfiction#baldurs gate 3#astarion fic#astarion fanfic#astarion#astarion x tav#tav fanfic#baldur’s gate tav#astarion romance#baldurs gate 3 fic#baldurs gate 3 fanfic#bg3 fanfic idea#bg3 fanfiction#bg3
37 notes
·
View notes
Note
Yes yes yes please leave Gem as a faun, I just LOVE that design for her!!
Ohhhh Gem is such a cool character for dnd, if she's a rogue I believe she would be pretty good with a rapier in duels, there's a subclass with this vibe... Corsair mb? Or Swashbuckler (a funny name, didn't know it's called like that, I'm not native :D)
I should probably draw her and Pearl... My fav girls!!! Would love to hear more ideas for them then you have any, no pressure <З
i really wanted to make her a swashbuckler rogue it's just such a great vibe for her!!!! also fun contrast against etho who in my mind is an arcane trickster rogue :D
i love shinyduo so much too waaaaa they're just the sweetest and they must travel together or i will cry :)
23 notes
·
View notes
Note
I NEEEEDDDD vulnerable lockwood😭 just him having a really bad day mentally and on top of that a case gone wrong and he just lets it all out to reader ☹️ (why do i think that he’d be a rly pretty crier)
Words: 600 ~ Content: angst, comfort.
Portland Row is quiet when you arrive home. The sound of the door shutting behind you seems very loud.
“Lucy?” You call. “George? Lockwood?”
A sound from upstairs catches your attention. You listen for a moment.
It sounds a bit like… a sob?
You stuff your rapier in the holder in the hallway and take the stairs to the library two at a time.
Too late, you forget to knock.
Anthony Lockwood sits in his habitual wingchair in the library. When you see him here, he’s usually the picture of gentlemanly repose, reading the paper with a steaming cup of Earl Grey before him on the little occasional table.
Today the scene is very different.
He’s hunched over, elbows on his thighs, head in his hands, bent almost double, sobs wracking him. His shoulders shudder as he cries.
You must make some sound of shock, because he looks up, and even with red-rimmed eyes, he’s gorgeous.
He swipes at his face. “Oh. Hello.”
“Don’t oh, hello me.” You cross quickly to him, kneel at his feet, reaching up to gently wipe the tracks of tears from his cheeks, and he lets you, quiet and biddable.
You gaze into his soft, sad eyes, and you know immediately what happened.
“You went to see that client, didn’t you. We all told you to wait!”
He sighs. “I didn’t want them to go elsewhere while we dawdled. We’re spread too thin at the moment.” The ghost of a smile tugs at his mouth. “Imagine that. Me complaining about the agency being too successful.”
You don’t smile back. “What happened?”
He swallows. “The clients are a couple with a young son. Dark hair, mischievous type. They’ve got a haunting and the wife’s worried that she and her husband are the targets, and they have no other family, so-”
“So if they did die, the boy would be alone,” you finish. “Like you were. Oh, Lockwood-”
“I had to get out of there. I fed them some bollocks about needing a second consultant with me.” His voice cracks. “I was stupid, going on my own.”
“Yeah, you were.” You cup his cheek. “Never again, promise?”
“Promise.”
Your gazes meet and hold.
“Do you want me to go?” You whisper.
“No. No, never.” His hand slides into your hair. “I can’t think of anyone I want with me now more than you.”
Your eyes dart to the chair and then his lap. “Think there’s room in that big chair for us both?”
A real smile kisses his lips then, and he shifts backwards in the big armchair. “I think we could give it a good go.”
You kick off your shoes and you climb into his lap, and his arms come tight around you. You settle your head on his shoulder, and snuggle in, and you both stay that way for a very long time, until Lucy and George get back and find you, and you all go down to the kitchen for tea.
Lockwood sets his chair very close to yours, and you’re very glad that he’s let you find a little chink in his armour.
Lockwood and Co masterlist
#anthony lockwood x reader#anthony lockwood x you#anthony lockwood#lockwood and co fanfiction#tumblr askbox
215 notes
·
View notes
Text
Just an Act
[ao3]
summary: When Lockwood & Co. are called out on a case involving a jealousy-ridden Visitor, Lucy is forced to confront her own tangle of feelings and why it bothers her so much to see someone shamelessly flirt with her boss.
words: 6,360
rating: T
notes: this is my secret santa gift for Mar (@thegirlfromthesea)—I hope you like it! thank you to the Lockwood discord for hosting it again :)
happy holidays!
“So, Mr Lockwood, where’d you learn to use your rapier like that?”
Lucy snorted; she couldn’t help it.
A girl, not much older than Lucy, looked up at Lockwood through thick lashes. She was stereotypically pretty—irritatingly so—and had taken quite the shine to the company leader.
Lockwood smiled politely. “I took lessons as a young boy. Fantastic teachers, they were. Now, er—if you don’t mind, Miss…?”
“Haine,” she said with a smile. “Emily Haine. But, ooh, just Emily is fine.”
Watching Haine stick by Lockwood’s side as he inspected the nooks and crannies of the master bedroom made Lucy think of a limpet. The girl leaned in further and ogled his figure in that slightly too tight suit of his; it negated the explanation she gave of wanting to ‘learn the tricks of the trade’ when they first encountered her. They were only an hour into their work for the evening, and Lucy had already held back several scoffs.
Lockwood awkwardly cleared his throat. “Miss Haine, if you would be so kind as to give us a tad more space so we can work efficiently, that would be wonderful.”
She took a single step back.
George, who had been mid-tea sip, spluttered. “Christ. Lockwood, I’ll go and get a head start on the other room readings while you deal with this. Luce, do you want—”
Lucy scooped up her bag and held the door open for him. “Yes.”
Once the door swung shut behind them, George turned to her with a knowing look. “Not too keen on her, are you?”
She gave him a sidelong glance as they advanced down the hallway. “You don’t seem to be, either.”
“Anyone—or anything—that hinders our work is a nuisance in my book, sweet young girl or not." He paused to clean his glasses on the hem of his jumper then added with a chuckle, "She batted her eyelashes so much I thought she’d fly away any minute.”
Lucy held back what she was sure was a very ugly bout of laughter. “I can’t believe Mr Albrecht is letting his staff run around all willy-nilly while we’re trying to work.”
“I doubt that's the case,” George said. “This place is massive. He’ll have loads of staff, but she’s the only one we’ve come across. There must be a reason for it.”
Lucy’s reply tapered off as she eyed up the closed door they were distancing themselves from. Lockwood was on the other side of it—and now, with a lack of audience, Haine was likely to throw all shame out of the window. Lucy shook away the mental image of her idiotically cuddling up to him. Lockwood had self-respect and at least a shred of common sense, she reminded herself. He would keep turning down her advances despite being alone, surely?
“Luce?”
She blinked and turned to George, only to find they were no longer walking. “What?”
“You trailed off and stopped. Everything okay?”
She looked back to the door again, for what she told herself would be the last time.
“Ooh, she’s really gotten under your skin, hasn’t she? Tell you what, how about we get some recordings of this…” he pushed open the door beside him and it opened with a menacing creak, “lovely little bathroom—god, it looks like it’s never been used—and then we can crack open the biscuits?”
Biscuits were a good solution to (or rather, distraction from) many problems. Not that Lucy had any in that particular moment—Lockwood could fend for himself, Haine’s pursuit of him was not her concern—but she wasn’t going to turn down an opportunity to dig into the digestives.
The bathroom wasn’t far from the size of Lucy’s bedroom at 35 Portland Row, and George hadn’t been kidding when he first peered inside: it was squeaky clean. When Mr Albrecht, their filthy-rich client and owner of the property, had given them one last briefing before hightailing it out of the place, Lucy recalled he had mentioned something about eight bathrooms. At the time she’d brushed it off in favour of focusing on the important info—i.e., the Visitor that was disturbing his family and targeting staff—but as she swept her gaze across the pristine porcelain and sparkling tiles, it came back to her with clarity. Eight bathrooms between its three non-staff occupants… no wonder this one looked as if it had been pulled straight from a catalogue.
“I’d bet good money we’re the only human contact this room’s seen, besides the installers,” George sniffed, pulling out his notepad. “I’d bet those digestives that nothing’s here, but we ought to take readings anyway.”
They went through the motions. Lucy checked temperatures (nothing out of the ordinary, as suspected) and Listened for disturbances (the pipes were a bit squeaky, but that didn’t count as a psychical threat), while George jotted everything down. Once they were done, they wasted no time in retrieving the biscuits and thermoses from the depths of their bags.
For the first time that evening, Lucy took the skull jar out. It sat between them in their small iron circle (made more out of habit than necessity) and immediately began pulling faces at George. It had formed an annoying habit of waffling while clients spoke and shouting random numbers as she took readings, so for the sake of her own sanity she’d kept the jar shut tight.
Up until now.
“I reckon if you bludgeon that soppy little fool you could hide her body in this bathtub and it’d be years before anyone found her.”
George looked at Lucy expectantly.
“It doesn’t like Miss Haine,” she translated. George simply nodded and dunked a biscuit in his tea.
“That was some shocking paraphrasing, Lucy. I never said I didn’t like the girl—I said I’d be completely at peace if you caved her skull in and made the body disappear. Two very different things, I tell you.”
Lucy decided that didn’t warrant a reply. “What do you think about the case, George?”
His face lit up at the chance to delve into it again; it was so charmingly George that Lucy felt a sudden surge of fondness for him. “The staff’s reports of a detailed apparition makes a Spectre quite likely. One mentioned it looked like a young man, so I researched deaths on the property while at the archives—and sure enough, a few poor sods have met their end here. An ancestor of Albrecht’s from the 19th century got shot just outside, a lad who used to work here not long ago slipped down the main staircase, and a burglar recently got caught in the act and had a heart attack when the police apprehended him. What a way to go, eh?”
“Would any of them have a reason to return, though?”
George shrugged noncommittally. “In one way or another. The ancestor’s death stopped the ownership of the property transferring to him, the ex-staff might’ve been unhappy with how he was treated here, and the burglar… well, if I died in those circumstances, I’d be pretty miffed. I’d come back to haunt the place as a distraction from that embarrassment.”
“Your whole life’s an embarrassment.”
This time, it was Lucy’s turn to splutter mid-sip.
“What? What did it say?”
She shook her head. “Nothing important.”
George narrowed his eyes, but soon let it go. “Another biscuit?”
“Go on, then.” Lucy reached for the proffered sleeve but froze when an ear-splitting shriek echoed down the hall. She shoved the skull jar in her bag and discarded the tea and biscuits in favour of bolting in the direction of the scream, with George not far behind.
Lucy threw open the door, rapier in hand.
The skull, half-sticking out of her bag, peered over her shoulder and cackled. It let out a comment so crude Lucy would have winced if she weren’t so distracted by the way Haine had her arms wrapped around Lockwood.
George panted heavily beside Lucy. “What happened?”
Haine held on for a moment longer, then had the gall to look sheepish as she slowly pulled away. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Mr Lockwood! I could’ve sworn I saw something move out of the corner of my eye, and oh, it looked awful, and I knew I could count on you to protect me from it.”
“Pah! What a trollop.”
Lucy, rapier still raised, looked to Lockwood. His face was pointedly blank as he considered the blushing girl beside him. In the blink of an eye, one of his trademark smiles appeared—to Lucy’s relief, it wasn’t one of the charming or flirting variety, but instead one of careful politeness.
“I’m glad you feel you can put your trust in us,” he said, “but I can assure you there’s certainly no psychic activity in this room, according to the readings we got. Not a single death glow, either. There’s a slight draught in here—perhaps the movement you saw was the curtains.”
“The atmosphere seems to be taking a toll on you, Miss,” Lucy said. Her knuckles ached from her grip tightening around her rapier hilt. “We should get you set up to stay somewhere else for the night, so we can work without you getting in the—er, without you being at risk.”
“Nice catch, really smooth. Though personally, if I cared enough about dear old Locky, I would’ve just told the bint to sod off.”
Haine eyed Lucy with disdain. “What on earth is that thing sticking out of your bag?”
“Nothing,” Lucy said, shoving the jar further in and out of sight. She hadn’t the time to flick the lever in the same motion, so the skull’s cries and colourful insults were still audible. She prided herself on her ability to keep a poker face as it described, at length, where exactly Miss Haine should shove it.
Lockwood swiftly moved the conversation on. “Good idea, Luce. Mr Albrecht mentioned he usually has a team of night staff—where are they tonight, Miss Haine?"
“Most stayed home. The few who didn't get the memo in time and showed up anyway were sent to a nearby hotel for the night... But it’s so late now, they wouldn’t possibly take me in.”
Lucy narrowed her eyes. “Why didn’t you join them?”
“Ah, well, when he informed them all of the arrangements, I was preoccupied.”
“With what?”
“I was—er, ah… I was polishing. The bathrooms. You saw how clean they were, yes?”
George peered at her over his glasses. “We assumed it was because no one used them.”
“Oh no, they do. And I clean them—a lot! So I missed Mr Albrecht’s instructions. And then I stumbled upon you three!”
“Four.”
Lucy frowned. “If she gets hurt, Lockwood… We’ll be liable.”
“Yes, that is true,” Lockwood said, his smile now laced with a hint of uncertainty. “Time’s ticking, though, and we need to get a move on. Since we’ve deemed this room safe, we can keep her in here. The two of you can help me quickly fortify the room, and then we can resume work. Is that alright with you, Miss Haine?”
Lucy had never seen her expression look so sour. Her short reply of “Yes” was not convincing at all, but the trio got to work laying out protection for her nonetheless.
“All sorted,” Lockwood said, clapping his hands together. “You shouldn’t be disturbed in here, but just to be safe, don’t leave this circle. If you need anything at all, give us a shout.”
“There’s some tea in that thermos,” George added, “and I’ve generously donated a few biscuits. That’ll keep you going til dawn, I reckon.”
“Thank you,” Haine said stiffly.
Lucy plastered a smile onto her face, though she couldn’t manage the same amount of fake politeness as Lockwood. “You’re welcome.”
Without the hindrance of a fourth unqualified person, Lockwood & Co.’s efficiency skyrocketed. Lucy lost count of how many rooms they took readings in. The place was eerily labyrinthian, and she was grateful that George had the mind to print out a map beforehand.
The evening grew darker, and after locating the area with the most psychical red flags—the staff quarters, a small series of rooms in the basement—set up their own iron circle in preparation for any oncoming manifestations.
After filling Lockwood in on his suspicions, George sat cross-legged and leaned back on his hands. “I’m surprised we haven’t heard a peep out of Haine yet.”
“I thought she’d be calling out for her knight in shining armour in minutes,” Lucy said, an amused smirk creeping onto her face.
Lockwood raised an eyebrow. “I’m assuming you’re referring to me?”
“‘Course I am. She was all over you.”
“I wouldn’t say that… ” He averted his gaze. “But she did seem rather fond of me.”
“God knows why. I’d rather neck a street rat than look Lockwood in the eye.”
Lockwood frowned as he watched the skull’s ghostly mouth move. “What is it saying?”
“Nothing out of the ordinary.”
“Should we let Albrecht know one of his staff’s gone rogue?” George said, straightening to stretch his back with an odd groan.
Lucy wasn’t sure why every fibre of her being was advocating for the girl’s downfall. After a moment’s consideration, she chalked it up to being ‘hangry’—as Bobby Vernon once used to describe George in a heated conversation—and grabbed another biscuit.
“Legally, it would be the right thing to do,” Lockwood mused. “But I’d hate to be the reason the poor girl loses her job. If she keeps shtum for the rest of the night, I’m happy to let it go. Is that fair?”
George shrugged. Lucy made a noise of vague discontent. The skull voiced its own unpleasant opinion.
“Great,” Lockwood said with a grin. “It’s settled.” He popped a piece of gum in his mouth and checked his watch. “Miasma’s setting in. We ought to be seeing activity soon… Have you heard anything yet, Luce?”
As a matter of fact, she had—the skull’s voice notwithstanding. “The occasional word. I can’t make out what it's saying, but it’s definitely a young man’s voice. It’s steadily increasing in volume and frequency.”
“Good, we’re on the right track. George is probably spot on with the Spectre assumption. And considering where we are, it’s likely to be the lad who used to work here.” He eyed up the room around them, and Lucy followed suit.
Presumably, this was where Albrecht’s staff spent their breaks, away from the demands of the filthy-rich family. They were in the ‘lobby’, so to speak, of the staff area. It was a small room with sparse seating, various mops and brooms propped against the far wall, and an old radio next to some stale refreshments. Branching off from the main room was a restroom and a dingy bedroom containing the flattest mattress she’d ever laid eyes on. It was so far from the life of luxury the Albrechts lived it almost felt like a different building entirely. It meant George was probably correct about yet another thing—the deceased staff member might have returned seeking revenge against his stingy employer.
Lockwood’s narrowed eyes suggested he was having the same train of thought. “What I am wondering, however, is why now? You said he died a year or so ago, George, but Mr Albrecht said his staff only started complaining in the past few months.”
“Can’t say for sure. Maybe someone disturbed his Source while working?”
The skull let out a cackle. Lucy’s gaze snapped to it. “Do you know something?”
“Maybe I do.”
Lucy raised her eyebrows. “And?”
“Maybe I don’t.”
“There’s no need to be difficult.”
“I’m not being difficult, it’s just��� —it let out an elated cry—“this is hilarious. You’re so close to the truth! I’d bet good money you can’t get it through your thick skull, though.”
“What?” She frowned. “What do you mean?”
Lockwood leaned forward. “What’s it saying, Luce?”
“It knows something. Said we’re close to the truth, but doesn’t have faith we’ll work it out.”
“No no, I said you. Cubbins’ll be on it in no time, I reckon. He isn’t riddled with the same distractions as you are.”
She carefully repeated its words, and George’s face lit up. “Oh, now I really want to know what it’s going on about.”
“Are you talking to a jar?” An annoyingly familiar voice said from the entrance.
Three heads whipped around in surprise, one haunted skull cackled gleefully, and one Spectre manifested in the middle of the room.
Haine screamed as Lockwood leapt forward, rapier slicing through the Visitor within seconds of its appearance.
Lucy and George scrambled to their feet. With the skull as a distraction, Lucy hadn’t noticed the disembodied voice becoming more prominent, but now it had her full attention. The pressure in her head made her wince and let out a hiss of pain. George gently placed a hand on her shoulder, thumb rubbing soothing circles in a silent moment of understanding.
Lockwood hauled Haine into the iron circle. “What—and I say this out of concern for your safety—the bloody hell do you think you’re doing, Miss Haine? We asked you to stay inside the circle. You could’ve been killed!”
Haine was deathly pale, and it took far longer than expected for her to voice a reply. “I… I know him.”
“You recognised the Visitor?” George said. The skull continued to laugh.
She nodded shakily. “His name is Adam. He works—worked here. We… had a thing, so to speak. He was lovely. But one day he… he—oh, god, he—”
“Slipped and fell down that huge staircase in the foyer?”
Haine let out a choked sob.
The voice had quietened; Lucy was able to think clearly again. “You said you ‘had a thing’?”
“His return could have something to do with that,” George said.
Lockwood nodded. “It’s likely. Now, Miss Haine, I beg you to stay inside these chains. We’re dealing with a dangerous Type Two that has personal ties to you. He may target you. Please let us work unhindered.”
“Or, if you do get in the way, at least make your death entertaining.”
“Unfaithful…”
Lucy tried to discreetly whisper to the jar she’d left on the floor. “What?”
“I said, if she does get in the way—”
“No, no, not that. The other thing.”
“That wasn’t me, Lucy. All this time being your partner in crime and you can’t even recognise my voice?” It scoffed. “Those biscuits have a higher IQ than you.”
“Mine…”
The words were a welcome distraction from the way Haine clung onto Lockwood’s sleeve. “I can hear him. I can make out the words.”
“What is he saying?”
“Unfaithful. Mine.” She paused, and then, “Cheat.”
Haine tightened her grip. “Adam said those things?”
“Oh,” George said. “Oh.”
“What did I say, Lucy? I bloody knew he’d catch on first! Oh, I’m a genius. I deserve some kind of award.”
“What?” Lockwood said, somewhat impatient.
“Miss Haine,” George said slowly, “are you naturally flirtatious?”
The sudden change of topic startled her. “Well, I wouldn’t say that… But if a man’s good-looking, I’m not going to ignore it.” She glanced at Lockwood for a split second. “Take Richie, for example—he started here earlier this year, and I know we’re colleagues, but you only live once. I wouldn’t turn down the opportunity to—”
“When did he start working here?”
“Er… A few months ago, I think?” Her irritation was visible as she spoke to George; it was a stark contrast to how she behaved with Lockwood. “How is this relevant?”
“There we go,” George said with satisfaction. “Adam still has feelings for you, and isn’t particularly pleased to see you moving on.”
Haine let out a small, dumb, “Oh.”
Lockwood whistled, long and slow. “Visitors with romantically oriented returns tend to be the most aggressive. Stay on your guard, everyone. And once again, Miss Haine, do not—”
He didn’t finish his sentence, though everyone surely knew what he planned to say. They were all too distracted by the Spectre’s return to dwell on it, however.
He stood—or rather, floated a few centimetres off the ground—near the iron circle, and now Lucy could get a closer look at him. He was faded and blurry around the edges, but she could still make out the inner details. He wore a similar getup to Haine, with the dark trousers and a slightly wrinkled white button-up. His attire, combined with his red hair and thin face, made him look alarmingly like a fusion of Lockwood and Kipps. What caught Lucy’s attention the most, however, was the ugly bruising circling his neck. It was a grim reminder of how he met his untimely death.
He was so young. He couldn’t have been much older than Lockwood or George. Emotions were distracting; Lucy let out a shaky sigh and tried to let it wash over her. Meanwhile Haine, untrained and vulnerable, broke out into a fit of sobs.
“How are we dealing with this, Lockwood?” George said, ready to leap into action with his rapier in hand.
“Miss Haine, I’m sorry to ask this when you’re feeling so delicate, but we need to locate Adam’s Source. Do you have any idea as to what it could be?”
Haine sniffed and ungracefully dragged a sleeve across her damp face. “No. I haven’t got a clue, I…”
Lucy felt a pang of sympathy. It was almost enough to make her forget what had irked her about the girl earlier. “It could be anything with sentimental value to him, or something involved in his… passing.”
The skull scoffed. “Don’t start going soft on her now.”
Haine turned away from the Spectre and curled further in on herself. “He wasn’t a materialistic person. Never let me get him gifts. But—oh. Oh! He was working when he fell, he…” Her eyes swept the room and stopped when they found the mops. “He was using one of those! Oh god, you don’t think…?”
Lockwood nodded solemnly. “It could be one of them, yes.”
Adam’s voice was still audible in Lucy’s mind. “He’ll pounce the second we step foot out of these chains.”
Haine moved closer to Lockwood. In the blink of an eye she was leaning into him, one hand resting gently on his arm. “I’m so scared. What if he—”
A cry ripped from Adam’s throat as he rushed forward.
Lucy flinched and stumbled backwards. She crashed into Lockwood, who caught her and set her upright. “Miss Haine, try to keep your hands off our boss. Your late ex isn’t very fond of him.”
“He sees Lockwood as competition? By far the worst case of insecurity I’ve ever seen.”
“He sees Lockwood as competition,” Lucy murmured, then repeated it louder as it dawned on her. “Lockwood’s riling him up. If we can get Adam to disregard him, he might calm down long enough for us to reach his Source.”
“Good thinking, Luce,” George said.
Lockwood took a careful, wide sidestep away from Haine. “How are we pulling that off?”
“You’re a real threat to him if you’re single,” Haine said. “You are single, aren’t you?”
Lucy’s head pounded as Adam’s voice boomed.
“Er,” Lockwood said eloquently.
“Not any more,” George declared, before pushing Lucy and Lockwood together. They collided and instinctively grabbed onto one another to avoid tumbling out of the chains.
As Lockwood looked down at Lucy, George’s intent dawned on her. She adjusted herself so one hand wrapped around Lockwood’s torso, and leant into him like she’d seen Haine doing all evening. Slowly, Lockwood’s hand reached up behind her and rested at the nape of her neck, toying with the hairs there like it was second nature. Lucy’s stomach did strange flips while the skull feigned retching and loudly voiced its complaints.
Haine made an odd noise. George smiled like the cat that got the cream and turned to face Adam triumphantly—only to find he was no longer there.
“Give it a minute,” he said. “Miss Haine, try coming onto Lockwood again.”
“You can’t force those kinds of things,” Haine insisted.
“Try it anyway.”
She rolled her eyes. “Mr Lockwood, you’re looking rather dashing in that waistcoat.”
“Blind as a bat, she must be.”
Lucy turned her head to look at the waistcoat in question and was met by a familiar smell she’d come to associate with the feeling of home; for a brief second, she almost forgot she was out on a case.
The waistcoat did look nice, albeit a bit snug.
“Oh, I’d gouge my eyes out if I had any.”
George was tense in anticipation, but relaxed after a few moments of nothing. “I dare say I think it worked. Adam seems happy that Lockwood can’t possibly be interested in Miss Haine if he’s preoccupied with Luce.”
“‘Preoccupied’ is an odd way of putting it,” Lockwood said. His thin fingers continued to drift along the back of Lucy’s neck, and it was a whole world of distraction. She struggled to think straight and subconsciously tightened her grip on Lockwood’s waist. If he noticed she’d brought him closer, he didn’t let on.
“Stay there,” George said, holding his hands up as if they were jittery animals. “I’ll have a look at the mops.”
“It would be pure comedy gold if Cubbins kicks the bucket while you’re busy fondling each other. God, Lucy, you’re only supposed to be acting. Dial it back a bit, you desperate ninny.”
Lucy watched with bated breath as George cautiously stepped over the chains. He held his rapier aloft in anticipation and in a few large steps reached the far wall where the mops stood. Keeping his back to the wall, George stayed alert as he passed a hand over each mop. He violently flinched upon making contact with the last; it teetered and fell to the floor with a loud clatter.
“Got it. It’s freezing cold.”
Lucy held tightly onto Lockwood. His hand had steadied on her shoulder; the weight kept her grounded as she Listened for oncoming danger. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Haine alternating between giving her strange looks and watching George.
The skull faked a yawn. “Just get on with it already.”
The sound of its voice mingled with Adam’s whispers—he was still present, still watching, and had taken notice of George’s movements.
“Hurry, George,” Lucy murmured. Her hand came to rest on a salt bomb in her belt.
From the depths of his duffel, George had to retrieve one of their largest silver nets. It came out snarled and scrunched, and for an excruciatingly long moment, he stood there untangling it.
“God, this is painful,” Haine said. She watched for a second longer before huffing and stepping out of the chains towards him. “Here, let me—”
“CHEAT!” roared Adam; he materialised mere feet away and wasted no time in rushing towards Haine with outstretched arms.
Lucy and Lockwood moved synchronously. Together they leapt, Lockwood brandishing his rapier and Lucy taking aim with a salt bomb, and landed in the space between Haine and her enraged lover. Lockwood’s blade swung and the bomb soared from Lucy’s hand; both hit Adam with a vicious hiss of ectoplasm and a ghostly howl.
Not a moment later, George unceremoniously dropped the silver net on the mop.
Lucy’s ears popped and her jaw ached as the effects of the Visitor’s presence lifted. She didn’t mean to lean into Lockwood as her shoulders slumped, but neither of them moved away, and at some point his hand had returned to her shoulder.
“That was possibly the most boring outcome,” the skull lamented. “I was hoping to at least see Lover Girl croak. Not you, Lucy, the other one.”
“That was simple enough,” George said, nudging the sides of the net inwards.
Lockwood grinned. “Good work, you two. And as for you, Miss Haine”—his smile faded as he turned to her—“we’ll have to inform Mr Albrecht about what went down here, which means telling him you, er…”
“Went rogue,” Lucy supplied.
“Rogue, yes.”
Haine’s gaze was unflinching. “Perhaps I should tell him the true nature of your company, then.”
He frowned. “I beg your pardon?”
“Being involved with your employee isn’t a good look, Mr Lockwood,” she said, with a hint of smugness.
Lockwood scoffed and exchanged glances with Lucy and George. “And what do you mean by that?”
“Are you kidding?” She nodded to him and Lucy, who suddenly became minutely aware of how much of Lockwood’s body was pressed against hers. The warmth of his hand seeped through the layers of her clothes. “It’s obvious that relationship distraction wasn’t an act at all. Tell Albrecht I was here and I’ll tell him what you two really got up to in his bathrooms tonight.”
“Oh. I’m starting to warm up to her, actually.”
*****
As they waited for a taxi outside Albrecht’s manor, Lockwood shivered and turned up his collar. “I can’t believe she blackmailed us with a complete lie.”
“It was either that, or find yourself on the front page of tomorrow’s Times,” George said.
“Lovebird agents shag in millionaire client’s bathtub,” the skull chuckled. “What a headline.”
“We should have found another way around it,” Lucy said indignantly. “Albrecht deserves to know the truth of what happened tonight, whether Haine threatens us or not. Besides—who’s to say he’d even believe her, anyway? She’s only one of… many staff.”
“We can think of something after a good night’s rest.” George yawned. “All the stairs in that place tired me out.”
He fell asleep in the taxi, notebook open in his lap and pen still poised to continue writing his notes. Lucy carefully placed them back in his bag, then caught Lockwood watching her from the passenger seat. His smile was small but tender. It was the one he usually reserved just for Lucy, the one that never failed to make her heart flutter.
“I need to talk to you before you turn in for the night,” he said. He looked at George, then back to her. “Privately, if you don’t mind.”
She suddenly felt as tense as she had been in the iron circle. “‘Course. Is everything alright?”
“Oh, everything’s fine. Nothing to worry about.” He flashed her one of his bigger smiles, then turned back around to face the roads swathed in the light of the ghost-lamps.
Despite Lockwood’s reassurance, it still niggled at the back of Lucy’s mind the rest of the way home. She gently shook George awake as they pulled up outside 35 Portland Row and bid him goodnight before he began to trudge upstairs.
After dropping the skull jar off in her room, she found Lockwood in the kitchen turning the kettle on. He set out two mugs and turned to lean his back against the counter. When his eyes met hers, he smiled. “Luce,” he said, quietly. “Tea?”
“Yeah, thanks.” Her feet ached from the long night; she hopped up to sit on the counter near him. “What did you want to talk about?”
For a moment his brows furrowed, his gaze drifted to the side, and he seemed as if he were trying to recall something—as if he’d planned out exactly what to say, and was now struggling to find it again. Lucy restlessly shuffled her weight around, trying to make herself comfortable on the cool granite.
Lockwood took a breath. “What Haine said… it bothered me.”
“Well, yeah. She blackmailed us with an outright fib—she’s a nasty piece of work.”
“No—I mean, yes, that was awful, but that’s not what I’m talking about right now. She said it was obvious that us being together ‘wasn’t an act at all’, didn’t she?”
“Yeah,” Lucy said slowly. “But it clearly was. She’s probably as thick as she is manipulative.”
Lockwood’s gaze flicked up to the ceiling; a subtle wince passed across his face before he spoke. “Was it?”
“What?”
He looked back to her, face utterly sincere. “An act.”
Lucy narrowed her eyes. “I’m not sure I know what you’re getting at, Lockwood.”
Lockwood’s mouth opened and for a second, he appeared on the verge of saying something uninhibited. The kettle clicked, snapping him out of it, and he got to work putting their drinks together. “It was unprofessional. A complete lapse in judgement. I wanted to apologise to you, Lucy, in case it made you uncomfortable.”
“Er… Well, it’s not like there was an alternative. And George was the one who orchestrated it, anyway.”
“That can’t have been our only option,” he insisted. “I shouldn’t have gone along with it. I should have looked for another way for us to deal with the situation.”
“Lockwood, it’s fine. It was fine.” She leaned to the side, putting herself in his line of sight. “You’re fine.”
“Am I?” His usual smile and bravado were gone, leaving nothing but worry etched into his features. “I’m concerned I’m blurring the lines too much in my relationship to you. Yes, I’m your friend, but I’m also your employer. I forget how much power I technically hold over you.” He let the spoon clatter into one of the mugs. “Accidentally using it against you would be my worst nightmare.”
“You haven’t. And even if you did— though you wouldn’t—we both know I wouldn’t let that slide. If you think I can’t stand up for myself and give you a good kick to the backside if you need it, you’re sorely wrong, Lockwood.”
“No, I know. You’re good like that. I just…” He sighed. “I hate how quickly Miss Haine got the wrong impression of us. We were just doing our job—in a slightly unconventional way, yes, but it was for the sake of the case—and she so easily twisted it into something else. What if she thought I was manipulating you, in some way? What if I was, and neither of us realised?”
“Lockwood, you’re being a bit silly.” She took one of the mugs in both hands and soaked up its warmth. “It’s late, you’re tired, and you’re overthinking it.”
He leaned against the counter and stared into his own mug. “You’re probably right.”
“Besides”—she took a sip, winced at how it scalded her tongue, and surprised herself with the words that fell from her mouth—“I never said it made me uncomfortable.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“Stop jumping to conclusions.”
Lockwood’s body stilled, and his gaze flicked to her. “What do you mean?”
She sucked her teeth and decided to throw all caution to the wind. “When George contained the Source, I could’ve let go. I had more than enough space to back away from you. Did I?”
“…No?”
“I held on. I leant into you.”
“You were weary.”
“I enjoyed it,” she said. It was an admission to both Lockwood and herself; part of her wanted to curl up and hide as it dawned on her that she had thoroughly loved being so close to him, and that Haine hadn’t just been annoying, she’d been… competition?
Something clicked, and suddenly Lucy understood Adam.
“You enjoyed it,” Lockwood repeated quietly.
“And hypothetically, if we had to do something like that again, it’d be fine. I’d be fine.”
“On the job, of course.”
The corner of her lip twitched upward. “Of course.”
“And hypothetically,” he spoke slowly, edging away from the counter and closer to her, “if something like that were to happen outside a working environment, how would you feel?”
Her words came out close to a whisper as anticipation flushed her cheeks. “Why don’t you find out?”
“Oh.” Lockwood stopped in front of where she perched on the counter. They were almost at eye level. He held her gaze for a moment before faltering, then spoke with uncertainty: “I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never—should we—”
“Me neither,” Lucy said, then pulled him in by the waist to kiss him. He stiffened for a second before melting into her touch; she parted her knees for him to move closer.
Lucy’s grasp softened at Lockwood’s sides when he reached up to cup her face. A small noise escaped her before she leant further into the kiss.
Time seemed to warp—though their lips parted after a few moments, it felt as if a whole hour had passed while they were engrossed in each other. They pressed their foreheads together as their quiet gasps for air filled the otherwise silent kitchen.
Someone cleared their throat by the door.
Lucy and Lockwood’s heads clacked together as they startled, warranting identical hisses of pain as they jerked their heads in the direction of the noise.
George leant against the door frame, clothes rumpled and hair unruly—it was clear he’d fallen straight into bed after coming home.
“Got peckish,” he said, adjusting his crooked glasses. “I see you’ve sorted things out. Took you long enough.”
Lockwood was the first to snap out of the shock. “What?”
“Kipps reckoned it would take another few months, at least,” he said, rummaging through the cupboards. “I had more faith than that.” He poured himself a bowl of cornflakes and drifted back out into the hall. “Goodnight!”
“Goodnight,” they both replied, though it came out sounding like a question.
Lockwood caught her eye, and they fell into a fit of laughter. Her head fell onto his shaking shoulder; the rush of giddiness had her feeling wide awake.
For a brief moment, she was not an agent in a Visitor-infested world, she didn’t have to frequently put her life on the line for work, and she hadn’t lost her best friend because of a system that let her down. Instead, she was a normal teenage girl getting flustered over a teenage boy, giggling into the warm fabric of his shirt and hoping he didn’t notice how red her cheeks had become.
Lockwood brushed her hair away with a gentle swipe of his fingers, then pressed a kiss to her temple. “We really are fantastic actors.”
Lucy burst into laughter all over again.
*****
end note: right before posting this I realised I gave Haine almost the exact same name as Metric’s lead singer?? I swear that wasn’t on purpose lol I love u Emily Haines
40 notes
·
View notes
Note
Okay obligatory DnD person as per the Dungon Meshi post(dnd/fantasy au + our life is amazing and I love it) but also I just wanted to say that there is a subclass of elves in dnd called aquatic elves that are kind of a happy mix between a mermaid and a, well, normal elf. I stick more towards spooky rather than nautical campaigns myself, so I’m not too familiar, but if I remember correctly they’re amphibious but with two legs rather than full mermaid.
Also obviously please ignore if you have different ideas but based off of what people have written about battle roles I could absolutely see some subclasses for the four!
Derek I could absolutely see as a Paladin(subclass possibly being oath of devotion or glory) basically the more defensive tank guys bound by an oath they make to themselves or someone important to them, which gives them a little spellcasting as well as actual auras that buff their allies later on.
Baxter I could see being a Bard (College of Swords), or what I kind of think of as a sort of battledancer. It would be a little less of a full spellcaster, but you can do special flourishes when fighting with a rapier which I always imagine as pseudo-dancing, plus he’d still get all the flashy bard spells. And to top it off, Bards actually use their charm(charisma stat) to cast spells which just screams Baxter to me.
Cove is a little harder but if you were going with him having a fish/animal companion while still being a melee fighter a Ranger(Beastmaster or Swarmkeeper) would be a good fit IMO, obviously with the Cove Creater he’s harder to pin than Baxter or Derek, but Ranger is pretty flexible. You basically get to choose a companion that’s from the land, air, or sea; and they can help you out in battle and follow you around, or as Swarmkeeper he could have his swarm be a school of fish.
Ruri is obviously a bit harder because you know your OC best, but if you really wanted to lean into more into the familiar/animal buddy route. Druid(circle of the shepherd) is always a fun choice! It’s kind of like the more spellcaster version of rangers’ Swarmkeeper where you can summon a lot of critters while still having some super strong elemental spells.
But anyway! I hope this wasn’t too long, I saw some (kinda) DnD our life content and I couldn’t resist! But thank you again for the adorable art of the main boys(and your lovely OC!) in a fantasy setting!
Second ask from dnd anon:
Oh! DnD anon part two!
But basically the theoretical party composition would look like:
Derek = Tank/Damage
Cove = Weapon Damage/Companion(s)
Baxter = Spells/Weapon Damage
and Ruri = Healing/Spells.
Also one last note about Druid is while druids have a lot of elemental spells (create water, spike growth, etc.), they also have the ability to do something called wildshape, where they can shapeshift into an animal for either out of battle(wildshape into a mouse to get under the crack in a door, then returning to normal and unlocking it) or battle (at later levels imagine fighting a spellcasting bear or even dragon) but also has more silly implications like wild shaping into a songbird to sing with Baxter, or a cat or sloth to ride on Cove’s shoulder.
got these asks a few days ago but i let them marinate in my brain hope you dont mind anon KJDSAUH
anyways AQUATIC ELF THATS PERFECT i tried to stick to what i knew about dumenshi rules in that post but for my first fantasy AU ideas i was going to do Cove a half mermaid (Cliff human x mermaid Kyra or elf Kyra [shes just so pretty its insane] x mermaid Cliff) that lived in a house right on the beach lmao, im happy that actually makes sense somewhere in dnd
i tried to look at the aquatic elves wiki from the forgotten realms fandom and omg so much text in the main page
also paladin Derek canon‼‼ imagine he does his oath to his brothers right after something dangerous happens to them when they were kids (im not saying his parents should die but im not saying they shouldnt--)
and bam!! tragic backstory 10x worse than his canon that is already bad enough :DD (try to make him feel less responsable now i wanna see that)
baxter turn rn. DO YOU THINK HE WOULD PLAY VIOLIN? I WANNA SEE THAT (<-this person didnt thought about drawing him with an instrument until it was time to write her thoughts) anyway it would def be a fancy instrument, daddy and mommy wanted to keep appearances i bet
one his spells makes his sword and moves shine and when hes under the sun his enemies become fucking blind
everything about him screams I HAVE MONEY but everytime people try to rob him he just rolls a nat20 in persuasion and they end up giving him money
and omg just imagine Cove's school of fish are all his pet fishes from the game JGASDFJK
im also. not discussing roles when the most i know about dnd is bg3 and i just finished 2 playthroughs. if you say ruri is a druid she's a druid, she makes super artsy flower fields and decorates every tree she sees with organical paint or smth jkfhds
Ruri's forest has a tree that connects with the ocean and they both just hangout sometimes (as if theyre not together 60% of the time already)
DRUID RURI THAT LIKES TO BRAID COVE'S HAIR WITH LITTLE POPPIES‼‼‼
MERMAID COVE THAT LETS RURI (otter form!!) RIDE HIS BACK WHILE HE SWIMS‼‼‼‼
mermaid cove humming a song and ruri falling to the river in trance/j
anyways anon i agree with everything tbh, there's so many ways to do a fantasy AU and i adore the dnd version (id kill for a dnd group or smth in my city)
i also have another fantasy au more vanilla but not-really. basically isekai baxter LMAO mostly an excuse to make ruri and baxter being domestic but before baxter developed any real domestic skill JHASFD
#rui draw smth#our life#olba#our life: beginnings & always#baxter ward#cove holden#derek suarez#our life mc#olba mc#anyways mermaid cove will always be on the back of my brain waiting until i feel like drawing him#for baxter and cove i just say silly stupid things and when it's derek's turn i kill his parents. lovely
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
RWBY JAUNE WITCH HUNTER AU
Part 3: Jaune and The Girls
*in the Last Episode, Jaune Arc discovered that Witches have a way to find their mates by seeing a certain light in someone's eyes. Now, this Witch Hunter apprentice is The mate of 4 Witches: Ruby Rose, Yang Xiao Long, Blake Belladonna and Weiss Schnee.*
*Now, The Narrator is gonna let Jaune tell How he is right now. After all, in The time of this AU, one week has passed.*
Jaune: Hum... I am supposed to read something?
*no, Jaune. Just Tell me, How this week has been.*
Jaune: Oh! Its... Been great. Im living pretty well actually.
*So They are treating you well?*
Jaune: I mean... In their own way. *Blushes.*
*If you do not feel ashamed, Tell me. How They are with you?*
Jaune: Can i Tell in Order? *The Narrator nods* Ok. I Will start with Ruby. She is gentle, kind and Very cute. And she loves weapons. Like, a lot!
flashback on
Ruby: Here, right here. *She shows her scythe to Jaune, focusing on The Blade* You see? Its getting blind.
Jaune: Blind?
Ruby: It means The Blade is getting Weaker. But with my Magic, i can revigorate It. *she uses her wand and The Blade is shining like New* See? Good as New!
Jaune: That's Very cool!
Flashback off
Jaune: And that night i discovered that It also affects organic things.
flashback on
Jaune: *panting, no clothes on bed* Ruby... Please... No more... Its been 6 times already... The others are gonna get angry...
Ruby: *on top of him, with a grinning Smile* Well, I was the one to bring you here. And I convinced Yang that you would Last The entire night in my First time so...
*she Takes her wand and touches The tip of his Dick with It. Without any further Warning, The massive dong rises again, Ruby smiling in a pervert way, while Jaune looks terrified.*
Ruby: Get ready for more 4 rounds of riding.
Flashback off
Jaune: Yeah... Ruby can be cute and kind. But in bed... I must pray to survive her lusy.
*And The other girls?*
Jaune: Oh, yeah. Well, Blake is like a cat. She is serious, acts like Nothing matters but... She has a Very cute and needy Side too.
Flashback on
Jaune: Is that... Cat ears?
Blake: Yep. *Reading an erotic book, sitting by his Side in The couch* I use to hide them in a bow, as Its a way Witch Hunters finds either Witches like me or Familiars.
*Jaune looks at her cat ears, an urge growing Inside of him. Blake notices his looks, grabbing its hand and putting it in her Head.*
Blake: Listen. If you ever Tell anyone that i like being petted, i Will turn you into a Frog And dissecate you. Got It?
Jaune: ... I got It.
Blake: Good. Now you can pet me.
*Jaune moves his Hand in Blake's Head, patting her. The Black haired girl then lets a small and cute purr, while clinging in The Blonde one*
Blake: You know, you have a good talent with hands.
Jaune: I was the best at polishing armors and giving massages in The academy.
Blake: Massages? *She lays in his lap, letting her back visible to him, smiling in a smug way* The girls Will take her time to Go back, so How about you give me a special massage?~
*Jaune gulps, as he looks at her back and butt. He looks around, trying to see If They are truly alone. Suddenly, his neck is pulled by a Black cat tail, making him get on top of Blake's back, his crotch near her butt. She smiles as she feels his bulge grows beetween her buttcheeks*
Blake: Oh, so you are Anxious for that~
Flashback off
Jaune: Blake is The boldest of them all. And likes to take risks. Different of Weiss. Weiss is... A princess. She is Very bossy and its on Command of everything. But there's The thing. She... Knows How to motivate everyone.
Flashback on.
*Jaune is swordfighting with Weiss in The forest, The girl overpowering him with its Rapier. Suddenly, with a fast cut, Weiss disarmed him, slicing its rusty armor in half. Jaune drops his Sword, putting his hand up*
Jaune: I surrender.
Weiss: Good. *she makes her Sword disappear* Its Very rare for a Witch Hunter to surrender.
Jaune: Im not totally a Witch Hunter, you know.
Weiss: Yes That's why i Said It, dolt. *she cleans her hands*. You need to improve If you wanna have a chance against me. Or anyone.
Jaune: I got it... *He turns around, going towards The house.*
Weiss: Where are you going?
Jaune: Im tired. I wanna rest. *he bumps into an Ice wall* ouch!
Weiss: You are not tired. I can Sense it. Come here and Tell me what's wrong.
Jaune: Im saying im Fine! Its not enough?
*Weiss opens its arms, Jaune dont understanding any of this. Suddenly, an Ice Pillar pushes him towards her, The girl embracing The taller One in a gentle hug.*
Jaune: W-weiss what are you doing? *He asks as he blushes, his Head in her chest*
Weiss: People used to treat you harsh, right? And your calming mechanism... Was hiding. Lying that you are tired Just for staying alone... *She touches his hair, stroking it.* And crying.
Jaune: I dont cry. Im Fine.
Weiss: Jaune... *She pulls him down, making him knee* You know that a week has passed and The light didnt faded away, right?
Jaune: ... Yeah.
Weiss: So dont be afraid of crying on my shoulder when you want to. Ok? You are my mate, our mate. And... I wont think you are weak If you show me your feelings.*
*Jaune Arc stopped resisting The hug and started letting himself be embraced by Weiss arms, all while sunking its Head in her shoulders and, in silence, letting The tears flow. Weiss stroked his hair, while thinking that Maybe They werent so different after all.*
Flashback off
Jaune: I like that she is The Ice Witch but gives me The warmest hugs. Even in bed. Her favourite position is anyone where she can hold in me. In my opinion, i think she is The most clingy.
*I see that your Relationship with them has improved. But i have a question for you. And Yang? You still didnt talked about her.*
Jaune: Oh. Yang. Of course. Well... She is... Difficult. Very difficult. I dont think she likes me much. In fact we still didnt did... Anything. *Sigh* I still think she wants to Crush me.
*I as The Narrator knows everything. However, i cant Tell you much. All i can Tell to you its to be patient. Because you still need to Dig deeper Into her Heart.*
Jaune: Can you give me some advice?
*Unfortunally, only on next episode. Also, If someone wants to know something more about this séries, The Askbox and The comments are always open. See you later.*
*To be Continued...*
#RWBY#jaune#jaune x blake#jaune arc#rwby au#blake belladonna#rwby fanfiction#jaune au#romance#ruby rose witch#ruby rose#fanfic#rwby#jaune x weiss#weiss witch#blake witch#blake x jaune#jaune x ruby#lancaster#white knight#dark knight#jaune x yang
45 notes
·
View notes
Note
would you consider irene the krillin of the abyssal hunters
for:
-human-scale power next to super soldiers
-helps ground the hunters by portraying somebody who like knows Enough about what's going on to not feel like a fish out of water while still playing a key role
-sees a fucked up and powerful girl and decides to risk it all
against:
-has not gotten a robot pregnant yet
The essence is there, but not it's not a 1:1, really. Krillin is immensely powerful for a human, but ultimately lags behind the Saiyans and Piccolo when it comes to actually handling enemies of import. Basically, Krillin's entire role after the power levels balloon out of his ballpark is being a good influence and sparring partner for Gohan (I think Krillin's role as Gohan's cool uncle is severely underrated, while I'm at it) until he's matured enough and to stall the villains by getting the shit beat out of him, buying precious time so a Saiyan or Piccolo can arrive on the scene, pop him a Senzu, and then take it from there.
Irene is a very strong fighter, and one quite easy to underestimate because, fundamentally, she's surrounded absolute beasts. In this way, yeah, she's very much a Krillin. I would also say that her style of fighting, involving accurate and crippling lunges with her rapier that incapacitate the enemy to set them up for her actual deathblow, her handcannon, can be seen as A Kienzan That Actually Lands.
Now, let's look at her RI assessment:
This is consistent with what we saw in Stultifera Navis, though I'd say that her Combat Skill should be above Excellent. I base this on the fact that Irene was fighting things that made Abyssal Hunters have to put effort into engaging, and she wasn't just surviving, she was killing a good number of them and hanging in there in what was a VERY prolonged combat situation. Now, think back on the PV for Stultifera Navis: Skadi had to two hand her greatsword in order to defend and hold against Seaborn dogs' lunges, visibly having to push back at them. Skadi is also the person that, while holding back, was sending armed combatants flying Team Rocket style in Grani and the Knights' Treasure, and who was punching tunnels through mountains RE2 Mr. X style because she couldn't be bothered actually finding her way around the caves. If Skadi has to put in some elbow grease block the attacks of these basic Seaborn enemies, they would evaporate Irene just with one clean hit on her. In Stultifera Navis, Irene did the equivalent of running a 1 credit clear of a CAVE shmup, she REALLY went in and cleared Mushihimesama, secret boss and all, while not getting hit cleanly, because if she did, that's it, she was positively out.
That's a pretty big departure from Krillin if we're going to be very particular about this. Ace detectives will notice that Irene spent a long time fighting opponents she was woefully outclassed by physically by simply being that good and nimble of a fighter, which is in stark contrast to Krillin's signature move: Absorbing every single punch, kick and ki blast with his face while buying time for Goku to arrive. If Krillin isn't beat up, gored, exploded, or ragdolled, it wasn't a Krillin a fight. Krillin is like a Gmod dummy that people like to subject to creative torture via the gravity gun and the bonkers physics of Half-Life 2. Krillin was more likely to kill Nappa or Frieza via heart palpitations from them beating his ass TOO hard rather than landing the Kienzan. Krillin's most successful technique is the Taiyoken (Solar Flare), which he used to blind countless opponents temporarily so he could take a break from getting his face pummeled into 4-dimensional shapes for a couple minutes.
They share some essence, but in the nitty gritty of it all, they are different beasts in the same family tree, if you will. Also, the powerful girl very much did take the initiative in the case of Irene. I get what you mean and I respect it but it was very much the powerful girl that picked her up and called her a fruit.
83 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sword gays showdown, final round of bracket three
Propaganda:
For Gideon:
she's incredibly good w/ her two hander and less good with her rapier but she's still pretty good!! she is a horny lesbian who's taste in women seems to exclusively be "girls who have tried or are going to try to kill her". she's a redhead. i love her
Gideon’s a HUGE Butch lesbian and literally always wanted to use a broad sword. Specifically a broad sword. She said fuck rapiers. Uhhh literally dies to save the girl she cares for and the sword she uses then becomes like an altar for said girl. Gideon Nav Supremacy <3
oh she is the most badass swordswoman lesbian in media. she’s her gf’s cavalier, defends her in battle, she’s incredibly butch and buff
C'mon shes THE sword lesbian like... canonically
Loves her broadsword more than anything on her home planet and practices whenever she can. Spoiler it’s possessed by her mom. Gave everything so her best enemy could eat her soul and become the new saint. The character of all time child of two separate threesomes, child of the god emperor, she’s dead, she’s butch, she’s a dork, she’s doomed by the narrative. She’s my favorite.
girlie is literally the swordswoman supreme. she’s the cavalier primary to her necromancer. she has a fuckoff huge longsword. she gets absorbed into another person SPECIFICALLY to swordfight for them. in a gay way too.
While everyone else was developing common sense, she studied the blade. This dyke's main weapon and true love is the long sword, but she's also passable with a rapier. The sword is, in her own estimation, pretty much all she's good for. That and her smoking hot bod and terribly charming sense of humor.
"While we were developing common sense, she studied the blade." (Direct quote from the book). She's the most useless lesbian to ever exist, and she's obsessed with an absolute wet cat of a woman. Learned longsword mostly on her own and is such a genius with the sword she learned rapier in a few months (by personal experience, it's really really hard)
Most badass broadsword wielding lesbian easily slaying bone monsters and evil space wasps
The cavalier to her necromancer. very gay. in a complicated codependant lovehate relationship with the only other person her age she knew growing up.
For Adora:
Finding the sword kicks off the whole show. She transforms into a giant magic lady and is now in charge of saving everyone from the big bag guys (which she used to be a part of). A bunch of stuff happens, but eventually her identity is now tied to having the sword. She is fully convinced that w/o the sword (and therefore She-Ra) she’s worthless. This culminates in having to destroy the sword or the world ends. She’s super depressed bc her whole self worth was tied to the sword and being she-ra. On the way to save her gf, she turns into way cooler she-ra (her own version of it that is not controlled by the sword which was made by her colonialist ancestors). Her sword is now part of her identity instead of her identity revolving around the sword.
lesbian chosen one who was given a sword that activated her powers and made her into a living weapon, but she destroyed the sword to save her planet - and then made her own sword with her magic and saved the entire universe
#sword gays showdown#gideon nav#adora#she ra#spop#gideon the ninth#the locked tomb#she ra and the princesses of power#tlt
113 notes
·
View notes
Text
I expected to be dead by now and that locked door is starting to make me curious. So I guess I'll just go jump on a timedrop.
Using made-up words for an openphrase is a pretty good idea, but I've been told it's best to include numbers and symbols too. Have you considered "stostorage roomoom five ampersand"?
See, that's why you should always change your openphrase away from the default. Now malefactors of unclear intent have complete access to this person's shed. I could be stealing their personal information to sell to the shoshop keepeeper right now and they'd have no idea.
But I'm not that wicked, so I'll just take whatever this is instead.
Length implies value. This seems more than valuable enough to burgle. I will take this and be on my way.
Let's see, what else do I want to do in town? Oh, right. The flower.
First time, I panicked, flung it at Mira for being a great team leader, and fled for my life.
Second time, I tried to use it to bury the hatchet with Bonnie and only succeeded in weirding them out and making things awkward.
This time. This time, I have a plan. I'm going to pry Isa's secret love confession out of him. Right in front of the Favor Tree. Where my Lemonfriend is stalking me. Hm.
...
CAUTION TO THE WIND!
Oh my god he's so goddamn precious
Yeah. I didn't spoil my appetite with pain du chocolat this time so I was ravenous and prepared!
Then I got up to refill my drink and suddenly I hear a sickening CRRRKKK and then the goddamn bread was broken in half. How!? How do you people always know that I'm watching for that!? Which one of you is temporally screwing with me!?
I feel like I'm losing my mind. This is literally worse than dying. I will find you, Breadripper.
But I gave you a pretty flower and everything. Come on, man. Find your nerve!
*sigh* I'm going back to sleep. Enjoy your face pillow.
Good night, Isa.
That feels like it's going to be important to remember for later. Typically, if trying to read it causes physical pain, it's probably some sort of horrifying eldritch text from beyond time and space. Which usually means it's definitely worth the effort to figure out how to read it! It might hold the secret to unlimited happiness.
It means a person of slim characterization and very limited expressiveness, designed to allow the audience to easily project themselves.
Our reality's principle form of violence is playing Rock-Paper-Scissors. What are you even supposed to do with a spear?
...I mean. I guess I have this knife I use to form Scissors. Mira's got a rapier for the same purpose. Isa gets Rock out of his punching gloves while Madame Odile's Tome makes Paper.
Not sure how Mirabelle's doing Paper attacks with a sword, though. That's kind of weird. Mira, where are you getting the Paper from? Do you have a motivational brochure for the Change religion as a sidearm?
Oh my god she uses a rapier.
Mira's weapon is a blade made from thin folded steel. That's where the Paper comes from. That's genius. Mira, you're a goddamn genius.
Okay. I get it now. I understand how weaponcraft in our world of Jankenpon Combat works. So yes, this spear would be a Scissors weapon. But since it's a spear, you could also use it as a bo staff. Would it then qualify as Scissors/Rock?
Hmm....
I appreciate your pragmatism. Contextually speaking, in times of crisis, it's not stealing. It's requisitioning.
Now let's requisition whatever isn't nailed down.
Oh shit, that's the traditional Rider-Waite Eight of Pentacles.
The Pentacles sign typically pertains to commerce, labor, and material affairs. This particular card usually symbolizes slow and steady skill progression at a menial craft. The man depicted is practicing his trade, carrying out the repetitive but necessary task of crafting his wares - and in so doing, developing his skill and becoming more capable in the production of his craft.
It's not hard to see the relationship between this card and the timey-wimey mission we're on right now.
There it is. We've found the key with diagnosed and well understood gender dysphoria.
Just because the egg has cracked, that doesn't mean this key is necessarily comfortable with announcing itself yet. Cracking the egg and coming out are very different experiences. If the key doesn't feel safe or ready to do the latter then it's fine for it to remain in the drawer for however long it needs.
...
Or it would be fine except we need to unlock a door. So. Uh. We'll just ignore that for the purposes of the metaphor.
Do not force people out of their closet even if the world is in danger.
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
a bantery sneak peek of chapter 6!
i'm hoping to post chapter 6 of Juniper & Starlight tomorrow, so here's a preview. this is a banter heavy chapter. enjoy.
***
“So. Four days in, and not a tentacle to be seen.”
“Mhm. Let’s hope it stays that way.”
“Naturally. But I was thinking - what if it doesn’t?”
June finally looks up from the book she’s been reading as the party has made their way along the rocky trails. Astarion is a bit impressed by this, really. How she can manage to have her nose so deep into a book and still manage to avoid every obstacle that comes into her path. More than once he’s considered just nudging a branch or a rock directly in front of her, curious to see if she would have the reflexes to avoid it while keeping her eyes on the pages of her book.
But his little plan requires her liking him, so instead he opts for a conversation.
“Of course, the first sign of change, and I’ll have to stop that pretty little heart of yours,” he says, and immediately winces internally. This? This is his attempt at friendly conversation?
In truth, Astarion hasn’t had much friendly conversation in the past two centuries. It’s mostly all been seduction, flirting, or brutal verbal sparring with his “siblings.” It dawns on him suddenly that he doesn’t know how to have a normal conversation with someone anymore, and he feels the knife of grief twist in his gut as he realizes this is yet another thing he’s lost.
June raises an eyebrow at him. “Yeah. I reckon you will.”
Astarion can see it’s too late to backtrack now, but perhaps he can course correct. Steer the conversation in a more pleasant direction.
“I am open to suggestions. Knives? Poison? Strangulation? Whatever you’d prefer?”
That was not the way to do it, though, he realizes once the words have left his mouth. If anything, he’s sure he’s just made this so much worse. Methods of death may be a fun topic to him, but he doubts someone like June is going to feel the same way. She’ll probably be horrified, and this pathetic attempt will just end up setting Astarion back.
To his surprise, however, June tilts her head in thought, as if seriously considering this question rather than running away in disgust.
“Well, I do got that wyvern toxin in my bag,” she says. “Poison might be the most peaceful, in a way, but…”
“Hm, no. I don’t think poison is for me,” Astarion says, suddenly flooded with relief that perhaps he hasn’t fucked this up as badly as he’d assumed. “Nor stabbing, come to think of it. I always felt decapitation was a fine choice. One good swing and then…nothing.”
“Only if the person doing the swinging has a strong arm and a sharp blade,” June points out. “If you’re missing either of those, it ain’t gonna be fast.”
“Fair point. And I’m not certain any of our companions have the muscle to do it in one chop.”
“Shadowheart might. Or Wyll, but I don’t think a rapier is gonna cut it… No pun intended.”
Astarion grimaces. “No, I don’t want the experience of being decapitated by a rapier. And Shadowheart might make it slow just for her own entertainment. I sense a sadistic streak in that one.” He shakes head with a sigh. “Perhaps I need to rethink my preference. But we were talking about you. What would it be?”
June closes the rather heavy looking book and tucks it under her arm as she considers. “Probably stabbing? As long as you got someone with the right aim - and between you and Wyll, I think we do - it could be pretty quick.”
“A classic!” Astarion is almost giddy, delighted by what he thought was a disastrous conversation opener being entertained. “One good thrust to the heart and you’re gone! We’ll need a good blade, though.”
“Yeah. I reckon it’s like decapitation. Or any other form of killing. You gotta have the right tools and the right wielder or it’ll get real messy.”
“Absolutely. Oh, but there’s always magic, too, I suppose. I hadn’t considered that. Perhaps you could make my head explode with one of your loud thunder spells?”
“A good Shatter spell? Maybe.” June’s eyes are sparkling. She’s having fun, he realizes, and he’s pleasantly surprised to see it. “I could also do a Magic Missile. Three quick bolts right to your heart might stop it from beating.”
Astarion laughs. Not quite, darling, he thinks, very aware of the unbeating heart in his chest.
***
the boy just doesn't know how to talk to people abouta nything but murder, okay? lucky for him, this goody-two-shoes he's trying to seduce is also the fucking dark urge.
if you wanna read more, you can check the full fic out on Ao3 here.
#durgestarion#astarion x female oc#astarion fanfiction#astarion ancunin#bg3 fanfiction#astarion#bg3 astarion#astarion x dark urge#baldur's gate 3#juniper & starlight
15 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
arthoebeyonce
slow growth
youngned
in the heart of hearts
youngned
in the heart of hearts
marie-artfr
art stuff
jt-hwabo
JT-Photoblog