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bet-on-me-13 · 5 months

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Ellie isn't allowed to travel alone Anymore

So! Ellie was raised in a Lab by a Genuine Bonefied Supervillain. She was raised to be a Villain as well, so her Moral Conpass is a little skewed.

Sure she *mostly* knows what is right and wrong from Danny's quick lesson before her Adventure around the Country, but she still has trouble separating what is moral and what is not from time to time.

So it's really no surprise that the moment she left Amity Park she somehow ended up being branded a Villain.

Look, it's not her fault she didn't know not to attack the flying guy in Blue Spandex when he approached her! One of Danny's biggest warnings shen she left had been Stranger Danger! She did what any 12 year old girl would have done when approached by a strange Older Man!

Its also not her fault that her powers (being Magic based), managed to affect him! She didn't even use her full power! (She maybe should have kicked him in a different place tho...she hopes he wasn't planning on having kids...)

So she did what her instincts told her to do. She took any money he had on him and ran the hell away!

It wasn't until she was 2 cities over when she saw a newspaper titled, "Little Villain Girl Mugs Superman in Broad Daylight!", that she realized she may have screwed up...

After that, she really had no excuse.

She knew that she probably shouldn't have kept Mugging the Heroes who approached her, but she wasn't a Fenton for nothing! Her Family Motto had always been "Commit to the Bit", and she was gonna stick to it!

So when the Fast Red Guy tried to tie her up, she phased off all his clothes and took off with his money (not the mask, she knew enough not to take that off)

And when the Grumpy Bat Guy tried to corner her with some weird papers he pulled out of his Belt, she just distracted him while her clone picked his pockets and made off with the wheels of his Car. That one made her a pretty penny!

The flying Green Guy was fun, his attacks were just throwing Ghost Candy (pure willpower) at her. He did stop doing do after she nicked his fancy talking Ring however, but it was fun while it lasted

Then she came across a Orange Fish Guy, and he actually seemed nice enough. But she was committing to the Bit, so she took the fancy Trident he had and sold it at a nearby Pawn Shop for some extra cash. He would probably be able to find it, that's why she chose a nearby location.

All in All, her Adventure had been really fun! So she decided to visit Amity Park again to tell Danny all about it!

...

Aquaman walked into the meeting room of the Watchtower, a very frustrated look in his eye.

Barry spoke up first, "Oh! I know that look in your eye! She got to you too didn't she!"

Arthur just glared at Barry for a second before walking over to his Chair, sitting down with a thump. "She is certainly a tricky child."

"What did she take this time?" Clark asked.

"..mttrident..." Arthur grumbled out quickly.

"What was that?" Asked Barry with a twinkle in his eye. He heard it, but he wanted everybody else to know.

"She took my trident, Okay!" Arthur shouted out.

"I feel ya man." Responded Hal, "At least with me she threw it back at me when she realized it wasn't making 'candy' anymore. What did she do with yours?"

"She sold it at a Pawn Shop!" Arthus yelled in frustration, "She managed to steal one of the most Powerful Magical Weapons in the world, the Symbol of the entire Atalantean Royal Bloodline, and she sold it and a Pawn Shop!"

"...how much did she get for it?" Asked Hal.

At this, Aquaman just collapsed to the table and groaned.

...

Alternatively she could have just kept all those things, and gradually built up a collection of all the JLA's most treasured possessions.

She has Supermans Wallet, not very important to him but it was her first mugging

She has Batmans Utility Belt (trackers removed) along with his Tires

She took Flashes Costume Ring (his civilian clothes still stuck inside)

She took Green Lanterns ring as well, but unfortunately it managed to escape after a few days. It was feisty.

And her crowning Jewel is the Trident she took from Aquaman.

(She avoided WW, cause she likes her too much to steal anything from her)

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wyvernity · 21 days

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been thinking about the sinnohtrio lately......plus misc other stuff

also, casual ko-fi drop!! get something in this sketchy style starting at $10 woop woop

#finally decided to do a commission test run u_u #pokemon #trainer lyra #trainer kris #trainer dawn #trainer lucas #rival barry #rival silver #ayalumi #hisuian zorua #luxio #timeskip tag #rkgk #anyway it's sinnoh time !!!#still figuring out their designs and lore but this works for now #god's specialest little guys & their very normal bestfriend who they would kill/die for. up to interpretation who is killing/dying #dawn is the platinum protag who meets giratina and becomes champion #distortion world affected her way more than compared to cynthia and cyrus since she's still a developing kid. but hey cool ghost hair!#4-5 yrs later lucas gets blasted to hisui..lost his memory for the three years he's there and when arceus sends him back he's just like Man #the entire time barry is CHILLING PLAYING HAVING FUN #and forever worried abt his friends ): dawn & lucas are soo nonchalant about what happened to them it's a bit concerning to everyone else #design comments umm the only thing that matters is that they still have their og scarves 👍#and i guesss these are spring/summer outfits. winter dawn gets leggings and big coat ok. she already has too much yin energy #btw i use the cleanse tag as the direct opposition to the spell tag even tho that's probably not a real thing LOL)#oh yea barry wears the tower master ribbon 24/7. tower tycoon in training and won't shut up about it (i love him)#character dynamics i will talk abt that in another post if i feel like it... these days i just want to go replay pla aughh

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jameszmaguire · 7 months

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I love how BBC Ghosts once a series is like 'and here's a new flavour of Robin being the most tragic character you will ever see' and it brings me to tears every single time

#BBC Ghosts #Robin the Caveman #Lizzie watches BBC Ghosts #sort of lifeblogging #i'm sorry i am so hung up on him being sophie's friend even though she never knew #how utterly powerless he was and still he offered her companionship #and how she didn't even die at button house so she never found out #do you think her nursemaid told her in the beyond? that there was a friendly caveman whom they taught french #just because he recognised loneliness and tried to share it to make it a little less lonely #bbc ghosts spoilers

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nelkcats · 8 months

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New place, same fight

Danny loves his friends, they have been with him since they were little and they have experienced too many things together, things that have helped them grow, things that only strengthen their friendship. Because Sam and Tucker were everything to him, as he was everything to them.

But at the same time, Danny could admit that he hated his friends; not always, but there were times where they wouldn't stop fighting, where they forced him to choose. The halfa could understand, Sam and Tucker had different world views, they saw different things and occasionally Danny thought they only got along because of him.

That was okay, he learned to live with them, to be the center of their arguments. And when they moved from Amity to Gotham, when they decided to rent an apartment together and go to the same college (which miraculously had all their majors), he thought everything would be fine.

It was idiotic of him. Because at the time he could only see a repeat of what had happened in high school; Sam was having a protest about the cafeteria menu and Tucker had organized the meat lovers (again), and the halfa knew how it was all going to end.

The point is, Danny was tired of repeating the same cycle, a cycle that apparently included Waylon and Poison Ivy fighting in the cafeteria at his new college (and how the hell did his friends manage to get the Rogues of Gotham into their fights?), so when he saw the people in bat suits he exploded.

When Sam and Tucker turned to ask his opinion he shook his head, pointed at Lunch Lady, who had her arms crossed and decided it wasn't his problem before disappear. Literally, no matter if half of Gotham was calling him meta, he was tired.

Red Robin gawked at him before turning his attention to Lunch Lady, who was gathering all the meat around her to form a giant meat monster. And Danny decided it wasn't his problem.

Apparently, Sam and Tucker decided that the bats could take care of it before they looked worried and started looking for Danny. It became obvious that the bats needed help when Danny looked at a giant meat monster two hours later, the halfa arched an eyebrow in dismay, weren't they supposed to be professional heroes? Lunch wasn't even trying...

#dpxdc #Danny loves his friends #but hate their arguments #he thought that they had passed the whole stage of discussions #but apparently not #Danny doesn't even know how Lunch Lady found out about the chaos #maybe she was following him #maybe all the ghosts followed him to gotham #that would be worrisome if he didn't care so little #Danny is no longer a hero and he refuses to go back to that #as much as he refuses to be the center of his friends' discussions #Sam somehow got Ivy and Robin on her side #Tucker settled for having Waylon and Nightwing somehow #dp x dc #dc x dp #Bats had never dealt with ghosts #Lunch Lady far outclassed them #the fact that Robin and Nightwing kept arguing was only a disadvantage #Tim has a feeling that the meta boy could fix everything #but he doesn't know how to find him since he disappeared #the boy's friends also refuse to help until they find him #Lunch is actually having fun #she's not mad she just saw an opportunity and used it

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esmes · 3 months

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ANNALEIGH ASHFORD as Nellie Lovett in Sweeney Todd (2023)

#sweeney todd #broadwayedit #musicaltheatreedit #sweeney todd revival #annaleigh ashford #and josh is there too but ya know.. this is about miss thing rn #if there's one thing our nellie is gonna do it's savor a moment.. :(#look at her taking it all in. her ghosting her hands over his back in 'my friends' with that little smile... GOD !!!!#life is for the ALIVE my dear - and she well knew it #i dearly love her #truly my character of all time. idc #**

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dovalore · 11 months

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the radiance's fluffy defence

#hollow knight #the radiance #little ghost #hi tumblr friends i'm still in embargo mode for 6.4 so i'm not posting art or anything about it until later #i do intend to spoiler the shit out of anything i might post about 6.4 so when the time comes the posts can be safely filtered #anyway enough about ffxiv on a hk post i think the radiance's damage is reduced by her fluff #i've already mentioned it in the past but she's my favourite purely on a design basis #it's so cool that her form is so... abstract? stylised?#compared to what you'd expect to see when you hear moth god

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ghouljams · 9 months

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Witch does some magic, Fae!Price remembers why witches are so dangerous

this is a longer one(1.4k words), dealing with a lot of spell work, and mostly OC stuff.

One of your friends is laying on your kitchen table. Arms folded to cushion their head, half asleep as you scrub their back with salt. You already washed the table down, chalked your largest circle on the floor, made sure your herbs were prepped. You really don’t know why you keep doing this to yourself. You let your eyes wander to look out your back door, peaking across your garden to your back gate.

“I can come back if you’re waiting on someone,” You friend mumbles, you shake your head. You grab a washcloth and dip it in the copper bowl of new moon water to rinse the salt off their back.

“You’re fine, I want to get this done today.” They hum, sitting up enough to finish their last swallow of tea before passing you the mug.

“You’re always so serious about this.”

“You pay me to be serious about it.” You step out of the circle to put their drained mug in the sink and finish your own. Hyssop tea isn’t your favorite but better safe than sorry. You grab another copper bowl and a small sachet from your cupboard. Another hum from your friend. “Where’d you get the baby ginger?” You ask, removing the small humanoid root from its sachet and placing it in the new bowl.

“Trade secret,” You try not to think too hard about it. There are a lot of things about your friend you try not to think too hard about. “Figure that should be enough to mix a few sessions worth of ash.”

You nod, casting another glance out your back door. You need it open for the sun, for the tie to summer to keep the room warm, but you also need your garden free of distractions. You twist open the jars you’d pulled. Morning Glory, Comfrey, Angelica, Marjoram, Ginger, fuck what are you missing?

“Ruda.” Your friend tells you, their eyes closed peacefully.

“You hate Ruda.” You leave the circle again to grab the herb. It feels like you’ve got everything but the kitchen sink in this bowl.

“The dragon’s blood will cover it,” You pause, at the edge of the circle, stomach twisting, “I can smell it.” Your fingers tighten on your jar, you hate when they do this, talk to you like they know what you’re thinking. Especially when they know better. You step over the chalk circle and deposit a few pieces of ruda in the bowl. You’re quick to strike a match and light the mixture, letting it burn down as you center yourself.

The sound of the wind rustling through the trees, the light herbal small of your garden, the warmth of summer, you do your best to keep your focus on the earth. Stable. Grounded. Your herbs crackle as they burn, the smoke finding its way out your back door, hardly bothering to be contained by your circle. Your house is silent, your fingers are warm and buzzing with potential.

Everything is easier after this, or faster. Magic always seems faster once you set it free to run. You mix the herbal ash with a little alcohol and some chips of dragon’s blood resin to make ink. You clean your needles and set your intention. You trace the patterns already on your friend’s skin and find the breaks that need to be mended, and snap on some gloves.

You poke new lines of honeycomb across their shoulder. Dip your needle in the ink and fix the pentacle on their spine, the salt, the concentric circles. Hyssop, lavender, parsley, you sink comfortably into your work tattooing herbs and wards. You mind is clear, present and gone at the same time. It’s comfortable here. Your friend sleeps as you work, not even twitching as you wipe at the ink.

You don’t think of it as what it is. Blood magic. Magic you shouldn’t be doing, wouldn’t be doing if it was anyone but them. Magic made just for this singular person, just for their needs. You mumble to yourself as you work, watching the pentacles turn, the sword glint. The honeycomb drips onto the lavender making you wipe at it to check that your lines are all connected. It’s complicated magic, a spell you’ve been weaving and maintaining for years. You trace your fingers around the unbroken ring at the center, the dark abyssal black that fills it. The sink.

You pull back and inspect your work, roll your shoulders, check the time. You pat your friend’s shoulder to wake them up before spraying the fresh tattoo with green soap. They groan and stretch out over your table.

“Feels like a fucking rock on my back.” They grumble. You hum, cleaning your work station to give them room to sit up.

“Gotta charge it, that’s what the sun’s for.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know the drill.” You help them up, careful to avoid breaking the circle or knocking over any of your herbs. They wave you off as they exit your house to your garden, sinking onto the little stool you’d set out. You hover close by, just to be sure they don’t faint. It’s happened before. You glance at the gate when they do, feeling your stomach flip when you catch sight of Price watching you.

Your friend waves you off, shooing you towards your distraction. It’s good you didn’t notice him sooner, it might have broken your concentration. The last thing you need is for a spell this intricate to backfire.

“You have a client,” Price nods at your friend, you don’t bother looking back at them, sure they’re enjoying the sun.

“You haven’t been around in a while,” You counter. Wincing a little at yourself. Truth for a truth. Though one is more an embarrassing acknowledgement that you noticed his absence. Price smiles at that before covering his mouth, trying to spare a little of your pride.

“Did you miss me?”

“No.” You say quickly. He nods, it’s cute the way you lie to him. “Did you need something?”

“Just wanted to check up on you,” He tells you, you raise a brow, clearly not buying it. The “and” that should follow that statement hangs in the air between you. He’s not impolite enough to impose himself on your hospitality when you have another guest. Especially not when you’re working.

It’s strange though, if he hadn’t seen you bringing your client out, he might not have noticed them at all. They look human, but.

But they don’t smell like anything. They don’t have any presence at all. You smell like burnt herbs, ink, residual magic falls off of you and threads through his. It’s terribly distracting. You’re always distracting. Enough to keep his attention off of whatever is in your garden.

“Well, here I am. No need to drop by just to see me.” Price respectfully begs to differ. He has every reason to see you. Your sincerity in the statement doesn’t go unnoticed.

“I thought you didn’t deal with creditors.” Price leans away from the threshold as you turn to talk to your client. He hadn’t even registered their presence.

“Go wait in the house if you’re all charged,” You tell them quietly. Charged. Price knows that term, what were you charging? The whole person? Your client shrugs and turns back towards the house.

Price’s stomach rolls, and he has to stop himself from taking a step back. Fae trap. The blossoming tattoo on their back hums and moves, alive with captured and contained magic. A seal on the client’s presence, a ward, a living hex breaker, all wild fed magic channeled through your spell work. Not human, just disguised as one. He can feel the hooks spinning off of them now that he knows what to look for. The fae itself doesn’t seem too dangerous, but the spell on their back...

You look up at him so innocently. Sweet as can be, waiting for him to take his eyes off your retreating client. “It’s good, right?” You ask, and he knows exactly what you’re asking. Knows that you know exactly what you’ve created.

You laugh, and wave your hand, “Not a chance, too much upkeep. I’d burn through the ink faster than they do.”

“Bloody hell,” Price swears, unsure what else to say to dislodge the knot his stomach has twisted itself into, "So you let a hunter in but not me?

"Hunters are stupid," you look over your shoulder towards the house, "think with their stomachs, easier to guard against. You on the other hand..." You look back at him, it's clearly a compliment, not one you're willing to say aloud, but he'll take it.

“You don’t have one of those on you, do you?” Price asks, a mixture of pride and apprehension rising in his throat.

#oc: witch #warning do not do blood magic at home or on anyone else #this is a closed course with professionals #woah who is that walking (actual) bombshell?#Price doesnt stick around long since Witch has to finish with her friend #but hes also happy to get the hell out of there #captain john price #john price x reader #fae!Price #i was like do i wanna post this its a lot of OC work? but then i remembered its my blog and i can do what i want #also because this friend is important and i feel like they need a little preview #stupid hunters: ghost and König and lowkey Soap

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coconut530 · 2 months

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AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES

#Nevermore #Nevermore Webtoon #Webtoon #Funny episode liked it a lot #Monty playing with Prospero’s cravat funyyyyyy #“I’m anybody” HE’S SO DONE IT’S HILARIOUS #Prospero Monty relationship who thought #He’s the dad of the group it’s hilarious and all the kids and his wife are giving him troubleeeeeeeeee #Doctor’s bag??????? What did you use it for in life my guy #“We couldn’t just leave Montresor to die!” …it was an option and omg their faces on the bottom panel 🤣#LENORE STOP YOU’RE TOO HOT OH MY GODDDDDDD *FANS SELF* “LOOK WHO IT IS GENTS” LENOOOOOORRRREEEEEEEEEEEE #I want to redraw but life be busy so soon ish #Episode 25 “Stains are so hard to get out of mahogany!” I knew it before Duke even said it 😂#He saw a ghost and it hit him on the head smacked his face sliced his shoulder sliced his side and broke his leg 😂#Lenore is unfaaaaaaazzzzzzeeeeeddddd also Duke wanna protect his bestie #“…A little bit. Maybe” I THINK IT’S MORE THAN A LITTLE BIT #MAZE TRIO LAUGHING BEING FRIENDS LOVE ITTTTTTTTTTT #LENORE AND MONTY SHOWDOWN MY FAVE IT ESCALATES SO WELL ALSO ANNABEL’S THE ONE WITH A BULLET IN HER GRAVE SORRY TO SAY #“Go to hell” 😂 this is the best #Annabel did NOT prepare for her to say that #Will doesn’t even have a roommate just throw Monty in there Will likes him enough and Prospero’s kinda wary of people it works out #Although Prospero you gave Annabel your key with ZERO hesitation or question so mayyybe you should’ve been more careful #Very funny episode I liked it a lotttttttttt oh no we’re heading into the formal divorce arc oh nooooooo

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randybutternubber · 14 days

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Spreading my spoon girl and Noone friendship propaganda in the form of an animation that may come some time after the turn of the century or maybe next week but my work speed is woefully inconsistent

#little nightmares #little nightmares 2 #little nightmares comics #little nightmares 3 #noone the sounds of nightmares #noone tson #the sounds of nightmares #the spoon girl little nightmares #sebbo little nightmares #nosebleed girl little nightmares #horrid ginger horde!!!#the ghost kid should also be there #they also seem like they would be good friends because I know her ass would unever shut tf up and ghost kid never says anything

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obstinatecondolement · 5 months

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I have a lot of fondness for clunky Hallmark Christmas romance movies with rock bottom production values, vaguely established and extremely contrived plots, dodgy dialgoue, often questionable line readings, and child actors playing a kid who seems either three years younger or older than themselves. Hallmark have not undermined themselves with glib, self aware irony or attempted to "elevate" the delightful low artform that they excel in. Refreshing, honestly.

#netflix could never #they are incapable of that level of earnest storytelling #for this specific kind of story at least #because they think they're better than it #hallmark knows that none of us are too good for a movie about an autistic marine biologist #who thinks her best friend's brother ghosted her after they hit it off at the friend/sister's wedding #and *tells him* that repeatedly to his face instead of not addressing it #and he's like 'I definitely replied ot your email! you ghosted me! but let's let bygones be bygones. It's The Holidays' for the whole movie #and the resolution is that it got saved in his drafts #amazing #what other studios are delivering this level of banal miscommunication #what other movies have b-plots about learning how to be good at talking to interns as well as seals?#where little kids read poems they wrote at a christmas parties that sound *exactly* like a little kid wrote them?#and not in the 'kids who haven't internalised cliche yet can write some beautiful lines' way #mystic christmas: would recommend to a friend #there are no supernatural elements btw #that's the name of the town #which literally could have been named anything because it doesn't seem to be important to the plot at all #and no one makes any plays on 'mystic' that relate to its literal meaning

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hajihiko · 1 year

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Seeing as ghost are canon in danganronpa, how do you feel about Junko ghost AUs where she haunts the remnants or first game survivors?

It is almost literally my favourite narrative take (tight behind found family / they love each other) I am SO about it you have no idea. It's the tastiest I go nuts

#I yell and think loudly about Junko physically haunting the ppl who took her body parts so much and often #Fuyuhiko sees someone right out of the corner of his eye that's supposed to be blind #Even after Nagito gets a cool robot hand sometimes it acts against his will for a second and it feels like ....#Mikan is such a whoof idk if I can even go there. But she might have it worst of all #Like while everyone is haunted they get it the worst #Maybe it's because of them that the entire island is haunted. Bc they kept her alive in a way that cant be undone #If they took in even a little bit of her cells or blood or DNA. Its irreversible and shes just There Now.#Can u imagine??? Ur on an abandoned island or a ship and you dont have the option of leaving. And there is a ghost #Everyone knows it but talking about these things gives them power you know #Maybe that's partially why even the antisocial or private people start sleeping with others in the room #You'd rather wake up to your loudly snoring friend than to a vague silhouette that *might* be someone sitting on the corner of your bed #Sorry I lose it when ppl start to talk horror I dont know what I'm writing #I have an entire fanfic in my head that I might get out sometimes about The Haunting Of Jabberwock Island

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lalalilylulu · 1 year

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I said this before and I'll say it again.

Alec and Lily's friendship is underappreciated

Here is the tidbits of their growing friendship throughout the series (mostly happened in short stories, cassie i need more of them)

“One of the Nephilim,” said Lily, bad girl that she was, and she drummed on the table of their booth with shining blue fingernails. “My, my.” “Hi?” said Alec. —What to Buy the Shadowhunter Who Has Everything

“I think I saw you earlier,” said Alec hesitantly. “You were—making out with a faerie girl?”

(...)

“Why, you want to make something of it?” The woman bristled. “How happy I am to see the Nephilim constantly crashing our parties. Were you even invited?” “I’m a plus-one,” said Alec. The vampire girl relaxed slightly. “Oh, right, you’re Magnus’s latest disaster,” she said. “That’s what Raphael calls you. I’m Lily.”

(...)

“I’ve decided I detest you,” Lily told Alec. “It’s mutual,” Alec said dryly. Unexpectedly, that made the vampire woman smile, before Raphael dragged her away.

****

“Someone dropped a piece of roof on me,” Bat told him, blinking in a way that was more owlish than wolfish. “Inconsiderate.” Alec realized Bat was not so much on a murderous out-of-control rampage as mildly concussed. “Easy there,” he said, as Bat tumbled against his chest. He looked around for the most trustworthy person, for someone to be on his team. He took a gamble and dumped Bat into Lily’s arms. “Watch him for me, will you?” he asked. “Make sure he gets out all right.” “Put that werewolf down immediately, Lily,” Raphael ordered. “It really hurts that you would say that,” Bat muttered, and shut his eyes. Lily considered Bat’s head, pillowed on her lavender bosom. “I don’t want to put him down,” she announced. “The Shadowhunter gave this DJ to me.”

—The Red Scrolls of Magic

"Don't waste my time, Lily," Alec said. "What do you want?" "I want you to sit down and help me, I suppose," Lily grumbled. Alec had sat down. **** "I like Alec so much," Lily told Magnus at a party months later, slightly drunk and with glitter in her hair. "Especially when he gets snippy with me. He reminds me of Raphael." "How dare you," Magnus had replied. "You are speaking of the man I love."

****

"LIGHTWOOD!" Lily bellowed, charging in. "Ah yes, Lily Chen, I believe?" said Robert Lightwood, turning to her with the dignity of the Inquisitor and no sign of surprise. "I remember you were interim representative for the vampires on the Council for a time. Glad to see you again. What can I do for you?" (...) Lily did not care. "Not you!" she snapped. "Who even are you?" "I'm the Inquisitor?" said Robert. "I was the head of the New York Institute for over a decade?" Lily rolled her dark eyes. "Oh, congratulations, do you want a medal? I need Alexander Lightwood, obviously,"

****

"I do not talk to Nephilim about Downworlder business," Lily said severely. The Lightwood parents stared at her, and then swung their heads in sync to stare at their son. Lily waved a dismissive hand in their direction. "Except for Alec, he's a special case. —"

****

"You're sure the werewolves have this in hand?" "Yes," said Alec. "You didn't need to charge to Idris and spill Downworlder business in front of my whole family." "If they're your family, they know you can handle a little thing like this," Lily said dismissively.

****

"What?" Lily asked, looking up at Alec and sounding shy suddenly. "I always liked children, when I was alive. People said I was good with them." She laughed, a little self-consciously. "It's been a while." "That's great," said Alec. "You'll be willing to babysit occasionally, then." "Ha-ha, I'm the head of the New York vampire clan and I'm much too important," Lily told him. "But I'll see him when I drop by your place."

****

She stood on her tiptoes in high-heeled boots, kissed Alec on the cheek, and sashayed out. "I do not like that vampire's attitude," said Robert in the silence following Lily's departure. "Lily's all right," said Alec mildly.

—Born to Endless Night

“I thought I might bring Lily,” he told Magnus. “She can speak Spanish. And I thought it might cheer her up. She likes Jem.” Nobody at any Market would question Lily’s presence. Everybody had heard of the Downworlder and Shadowhunter Alliance by now, and it was well known that members of the Alliance helped each other out. Magnus raised his eyebrows. “Oh, I know Lily likes Jem. I’ve heard the nicknames.”

****

“Do you . . .” Alec coughed. “Do you want to talk?” Lily tipped her head back to stare all the way up at him. “About feelings? Do we do that?” “Preferably not,” said Alec, which made her smile. “But we could.”

****

There had been a time when Alec was unsettled by vampires, but Lily had always so clearly needed someone, and Alec had wanted to be there for her. They’d been teammates running the Alliance with Maia for long enough now that Lily felt like Aline Penhallow, a friend close enough to be family.

****

“So you’re Alec Lightwood,” said the head of the Buenos Aires Institute slowly. “Then this must be your Downworlder whore.” There was a terrible silence. It was broken by Lily, who blinked and said: “Excuse me? Have you been living in a hole? Are you not aware Alec is dating famous warlock Magnus Bane and is not interested in ladies of any persuasion?” There was a rush of whispers. Alec didn’t think everyone was stunned by this information. They were stunned that Lily would say it, as if they expected him to be ashamed. “Let’s be clear on this matter. This is my friend Lily, the head of the New York vampire clan.” Alec put his hand on his seraph blade, and the whispers hushed. “Think very carefully,” said Alec, “about how you wish to speak of her. Or of Magnus Bane.”

****

“You can stay here,” he agreed grudgingly. “The Downworlder cannot.” “Like I want to,” Lily sneered. “I don’t stay in places where the décor isn’t ten out of ten, and this place is a minus fourteen thousand. OK, Alec, let’s make a plan for where we will meet up after I find a nice windowless hotel room. Do you want to—” “What are you talking about?” Alec demanded. “If they won’t have you, I won’t stay here. The hell with this place. I’m going with you.”

****

“Leaving aside your destined honey lamb and all, I know there was Jace. Is it just guys with golden eyes?” asked Lily. “That is a very particular taste you have there, friend. It really narrows the playing field. So no other crushes besides Jace? Even a teeny tiny one when you were young?” “Why are you leering like you know something I don’t?” Alec asked warily. Lily giggled.

****

Lily was sitting cross-legged on the ground, one elbow propped on Alec’s knee, to be near the child. She tilted her head toward Rafael and asked him if he would please get on with it, because the sun was rising and she’d have to go to bed soon.

****

“Lily’s vulnerable during the day,” Alec said. “I’d rather stay with her. Will you be all right in the windowless room, Rafael?”

****

Alec rose and guided her, a hand on her trembling shoulder, to the bed. He pulled a sheet over her as if she were Rafael. Then he positioned the chair between Lily and Rafael and the entrance, and took his place there. “Sleep, Lily,” Alec said, gently. “I’ll watch the doors.”

****

“Are we going to smuggle our way into the house in laundry carts?” Lily asked Alec excitedly. Alec blinked at her. “No, we’re not. What laundry carts? I’m a straightforward person. I’m going to knock on the door.”

(...)

“I know Rafe stole your phone,” said Lily, “but who stole your sense of adventure?”

****

Alec bundled the woman into Lily’s arms. Lily was small enough that it was difficult, but she was strong enough to bear her weight. “Take her. I have to get the others.” “I don’t want to go!” Lily shouted over the crackling fire. “I don’t ever want to abandon anybody again!” “You won’t. Lily, go.”

****

“Ah, there’s that smile,” said Lily. “It’s been two days, and I missed it.” Alec stopped smiling and made a face at her, but when he looked at her properly, she was fiddling with the zip of her leather jacket. There was something about the set of her mouth, as if she’d set it determinedly so it wouldn’t tremble. “Thanks for coming with me,” Alec said. “Also, you’re the worst.” That made her smile. Lily wiggled her fingers in farewell. “Don’t you forget it.”

—The Land I Lost

#alec lightwood #lily chen #the only friendship that matter #they really really care about each other #lily knows alec's little secret about his tiny crush on raphael back then #lily trusted him enough with her past secret #theyre the bestest friends im alright 🥲#downworlder nephilim friendship i need #cassie show us more of their friendship #and please dont hurt any of them in twp 🤺#the shadowhunter chronicles #the bane chronicles #the eldest curses #the red scrolls of magic #born to endless night #ghosts of the shadow market #the land i lost

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ehlnofay · 5 months

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It’s not until she hears Sissel’s knees hit the floor that Efri is jolted back into her body.

She blinks, whipping her head around. Sissel is kneeling, bracing a palm on the ancient stone pavement, at the barrier – no, the barrier’s gone, it’s just Sissel on the floor. She lifts her head and meets Efri’s eyes; her hair is wispy and wild, the little plaits meant to keep it neat come loose and tumbling, her eyes wide. The barrier's gone, but still, her pale face is lit up blue.

“Are you okay?” she asks. She doesn’t speak loudly, but it echoes in the great stone chamber.

Nine, Efri doesn’t know.

She blinks again, looks down at her hands, clinging to the metal stick so fiercely that her joints ache. (Her own stick, her nice wooden one, is still on the floor somewhere, where it slipped out of her grasp when she hit the wall.) The lumpy heavy end of it, the clobbering end, is still resting on –

Not on. It’s in the thing’s head, fitted neatly in the opening of its dented helmet, the horns spiralling over the floor. There’s a tooth, perfectly preserved, by Efri’s foot.

One by one, she unwraps her gloved fingers from the handle of the metal stick, letting it drop to the floor with a clang so loud it makes her wince. Kazari is nosing at her side. (When did they let go of it? When did they get so close? She must have missed that. She feels out of the loop. Her heart is juddering like fish on a line, battering like some frightened trapped thing at her ribcage, and her breath is coming fast and heavy.) Absentmindedly bringing up a hand to press over her sore shoulder, she says, “’M fine. Not too – barely touched me.”

Kazari turns and spits on the floor. Efri blinks. She does it again, tongue lolling out of her mouth, face very disgruntled – and oh, Efri gets it. She does not glance down at the thing at her feet; she doesn’t need to, she knows what its arm looks like, chewed almost to pieces even through its banded armour. (If she hadn’t been so busy being scared of it, that sight might have made her a bit scared of Kazari. But not now, when they’re trying to hack and spit the taste of dead man arm out of their mouth.)

Efri unclips her canteen from her belt and holds it out. “Here,” she says. Her voice is rough. Her heart is racing too much to let constructing sentences be easy. “Not much, but –”

Kazari stands still while Efri tips half of the remaining water onto her tongue, and then Efri watches her swilling it around in her mouth, trying to bathe all of her teeth in it, before she spits it again on the floor at the dead thing’s feet.

The water is still clear. That’s something, at least; the dead man was too old to still have blood in him. Or maybe he was embalmed, drained of it hundreds of years ago, thousands.

“Are you okay?” Efri asks Kazari when they’re done, because they were the one doing most of the fighting, who was closest. They tip their head, shift their weight – wince when they put weight on one foot. Their lips peel back from their teeth. Their clothes on that side are singed.

Efri points it out. “Your robe,” she says, which makes it sound much fancier than it is. She’s too tired to think of a better word. She rubs a hand over her face, pushing the hair back over her forehead, says, “I’ll reinforce it for you when we get out.”

Kazari noses at Efri’s shoulder – the shredded fabric of her dress, the fraying edges stained with blood. Efri says, “I know. I’ll have to sew that up too.” Over her shoulder, she calls, “Kazari’s leg’s hurt, I think.”

“There’s blood on you,” Sissel replies. She peels her hand off the floor and leans back on her heels.

Efri touches her shoulder again. “’S fine,” she says. “Just a scrape. The blood’s drying already.”

It’s really sore, actually – the flesh abraded and tender, an ache sinking deep into the muscle – but it’s normal sore, the kind of sore you really should be after being thrown into a wall. It doesn’t feel sprained or dislocated or anything like that. Just like it will be bruised a whole rainbow of colours come tomorrow.

Kazari noses at it again. She leans too far forward and falters on her maybe-hurt leg – rights herself, wincing, and rolls her shoulder. It gleams, just for a moment, and she nearly stumbles again. Efri puts out a hand to steady her. (It doesn’t really accomplish anything – Efri’s strong, but she’s not that strong – but it’s the principle of it.) “What was that spell?”

“Pain relief,” Sissel says from behind her. “I think. Doesn’t actually fix anything, but.”

“You’ll be okay ‘til we find someone?” Efri asks, and Kazari nods. She presses a hand against their shoulder and nods back.

They both turn to look at Sissel, then, who’s just kneeling on the floor, sitting on her heels.

“You all right?” Efri asks her.

“All right,” Sissel confirms. She doesn’t look at them. “Didn’t even come near me.”

She’s staring.

Efri crosses the floor to stand with her. (She needs to lean on Kazari – her legs are too wobbly, and she doesn’t want to touch the dead thing’s stick, doesn’t want to look for her own. Kazari limps a little on their sore front leg.) There’s a moment of total, humming silence – all of them still and staring, necks craned back, looking up at the thing.

Whatever it is.

It’s a ball. Big and blue and shimmering, it floats above a wide crystalline dish set into the floor, spinning on an axis. Just spinning and spinning and spinning, endless motion. Its smooth surface is cut through with dark wavering lines, etched with lettering, and it doesn’t quite glow but it doesn’t not glow, either, the light moving across it silkily, like clouds in a blue sky. It looks like something that should be humming – a low pitch in their ears, an eerie shiver dancing over their skin – but it’s silent. Inert, maybe, but for the spinning.

“What is it?” Efri asks. Her voice cracks as she speaks. She looks down at Sissel’s face, staring as though mesmerised, illuminated by the room’s dim lighting – the fires that should not still be burning down here, the luminous not-glow of the ball.

Sissel says, “I don’t know. Something important.”

Hovering above the dish, it spins, and spins, and spins.

“Is it what the ghost was talking about?” Efri asks. She tilts her head and squints at it. It doesn’t – well, it looks strange and unearthly and powerful, but it isn’t doing anything. And it hadn’t been clear what the ghost was talking about, exactly, according to Sissel, just that it was something important – but what else could it be?

Sissel, still watching it, shrugs. “I don’t know,” she says. “I think so.”

Efri watches it with her, brushing a bit more hair out of her face. It’s sticking to her sweaty forehead. She feels a drip of not-dry blood running down her arm under her sleeve.

Kazari is staring at it too – just as confounded as the rest of them. Efri sees the light in their irises shifting as the ball spins.

They’re not learning anything from staring, the ball staying strange and mysterious as ever, so Efri raps her knuckles against her sternum to steady her breathing (it’s slowed a bit – not normal, but closer to it) and climbs up onto the stone rimming of the dish. Kazari, behind her, lows in consternation; Sissel catches her breath, a noise like a creaking door. “Careful,” she says.

“Promise,” Efri replies, and places her feet very, very carefully on the glassy blue flooring. Nothing happens. She doesn’t step on the dark curved lines as she treads toward the ball in the centre, slow and wary as if she were approaching a skittish animal. Nothing happens.

She reaches out, and, with just the tips of her fingers, she grazes the ball’s surface.

Nothing happens.

It’s cool to the touch, and smooth, like polished metal or not-frozen ice or delicate glasswork. It continues to spin gently under her fingers, warming her glove with friction, no smudges left on its clouded face.

It really feels like there should at least be a tingle running up her arm, a strange and unfamiliar current, a spark. But it’s just Efri, standing with an arm outstretched, pressing her hand to a ball.

“It’s not doing anything,” she reports, and Sissel clambers up onto the dish with her, fitting her palm to its gently hovering underside. Kazari balks, begins pacing agitatedly. Efri frowns. “Why isn’t it doing anything? Shouldn’t it be doing something?”

“It’s important,” Sissel says definitively. There’s ancient dust on her fingers, but none of it seems to transfer. “It’s something really special, I think.”

Efri shifts restlessly. She shifts her grip and tries to grab onto the dark ridged curves ringing its surface, but they slip easily away from her grasp as though her touch was no barrier at all. “But what does it do?”

Sissel shrugs.

Behind them, Kazari lows.

Efri drops her hand and grabs Sissel’s wrist. “C’mon,” she says, and when Sissel frowns at her, “We’re not going to learn anything about it this way. We have to look for clues!”

Kazari makes a more impatient noise. (Efri thinks she found a clue.)

Sissel gives the ball one last searching look and lets Efri tug her away, off the weird blue dish and down to where Kazari stands on the stone floor, at the head of the table where the dead man sat. Efri sniffs loudly and tries not to think about it too much. The table is smooth polished stone, worn a little away with time; Efri trails a gloved finger over the edge and directs her attention to where Kazari points with their chin.

There’s something carved into the surface, the edges blunted and shapes softened by however many years it must have been since it was put there. Efri squints, trying to make it out. She has to stand right up on her tiptoes to get the right angle to see much of it in full.

“That’s not letters,” she says eventually, frowning. She’s pretty sure she knows her alphabet well enough by now to know that. “Is it magic?”

Sissel shakes her head. “I don’t know what it is. It’s not like magical writing I’ve ever seen.”

Efri looks at Kazari, who also shakes her head. “Maybe it’s a different sort of lettering,” she theorises. It must have been written a long time ago, if it’s from back when the city had people. Onmund’s been reading all about it for ages, and he’s told her a bit – Saarthal was the city of Atmorans, populated by proto-Nordic people. All complicated history stuff. But they weren’t quite the same as Nords today, he said, so it stands to reason they had different writing, too. They’re supposed to be uncovering and cataloguing artifacts (at the thought, Efri glances back at the hovering ball and swallows an inane bubble of laughter) so she suggests, “Maybe you can copy it and we can show it to someone. I’m sure there’ll be someone at the College what knows what it is.”

Sissel, also standing on her toes, nods dutifully. “What will you do?”

The chamber they’re in is cavernous, and about empty but for the ball in the dish, the altar and chair, the body on the ground. “I’ll check him,” she says, and points. “See if he has anything on him that’s special.”

Sissel follows her finger and grimaces.

She digs out her note-paper and her stick of char, and Efri assumes it’s clues time, but when she turns she feels a hand grip her elbow. She looks back over her tattered shoulder at Sissel’s face, her furrowed brow.

“Promise you’re really okay?” she says, voice anxious and solemn.

“Promise,” Efri says, twisting her arm to touch her friend’s hand. Sissel presses her lips together and lets go of her arm.

Kazari trails after Efri to look at the dead man.

First thing is the metal stick. It’s magic someway, Efri knows – he waved it and threw her into a wall, flung spells with it – but she’s not sure how. Doesn’t know enough about enchantments. Didn’t need to, to use it; when Kazari clamped down on his arm she just ripped it from his grasp and –

She doesn’t quite exactly remember, actually, except for the bitter tang of adrenaline in her mouth and nose, the horrible grunting and scuffling sounds, the heft of the stick in her hands. Impact, over and over and over, against something that had a little more give each time.

Efri scrubs a hand over her mouth and grips the handle of the stick. It takes effort to wrest it out of the thing’s face, caught as it is by the edges of the helmet, and when it’s finally yanked free it’s – actually not as bad as she might have expected. There’s no blood, and the corpse was so desiccated it already didn’t even really look like a person anymore, so it registers less as someone with horrible violence done to it and more as a really gross art piece. It’s not nice. She doesn’t like the twisted, gaping mouth, teeth embedded wrong-ways in its tissue and scattered like coins over the floor. And one of the eyes, which had glowed unearthly blue, is now a dull, rotten black, squished like a plum in its socket.

It's worse the more she looks. She sniffs and turns away.

“This is magic, right?” she asks Kazari, testing the weight of it in her hands, the cool surface of the metal, and they nod. “A good artifact?” she adds, and they nod again, emphatically. Efri sets the stick aside and kneels.

It wasn’t wearing any clothes, really – or if it was, they rotted away. She touches the rusted armour gingerly, tries to avoid brushing her gloves against the shrivelled skin at all. Whoever it was had expensive taste, it seems – there’s jewellery in a shockingly well-preserved beard, pendants around the neck, armbands. Efri asks Kazari if each thing is enchanted. No to the armbands, no to the beard-ring, and then, pressed against the wizened chest where the flesh contours to the ribs, she finds some kind of necklace, sharp-edged and thrumming. Kazari nods to that, and, face scrunched up like an old fruit, Efri reaches around the ancient neck to slip it off.

She tucks it into a belt pocket with the tripwire necklace they found at the weird wall.

“Done,” Sissel says. She folds her paper and slips it into her own pouch. Her footfalls on the echo-y stone floor as she approaches the body for the first time are almost silent. “Did you find anything?”

“Necklace,” Efri replies, watching Sissel’s face pinch at the sight of him. “And – stick.” She scoops up the metal stick and holds it out. “He did spells with it.”

Sissel looks at it warily. “Is he a draugr?” she asks, glancing back down at his mashed-up face.

“I mean,” Efri says, “he’s got to be, right?” She’s certainly never seen a draugr before, but what else could it be?

(Calling it a draugr makes her shiver, the set of her shoulders quaking. She’ll stick to dead man.)

Sissel shudders. She reaches out to grip the handle of the stick, and Efri’s not sure if she’s taking it or just trying to keep herself upright. “I can’t believe that happened,” she says. Her voice sounds, suddenly, fragile. “I can’t believe we’re alive.”

“Me neither,” Efri says. She presses the tip of the stick into the ground so Sissel can lean on it, stands a little unsteadily.

Kazari, with a hushed murmur, telegraphs something. Efri recognises the head incline of understanding – she’s familiar with that word, that idea – and, after a moment, the flickering ear of doubt.

“They’ll have to believe us,” she says with conviction, because she means it. “We’ll show them. They’ll see for themselves.”

Kazari presses their nose to her head.

Efri clasps her hands together. “We’ll go tell someone now,” she declares – though it’s easier said than done; they were lost in the ruins ages before they even found the crumbling wall, the halls, this horrible wonderful chamber. But they’ll get un-lost eventually. They’ll get out eventually. Surely. They have practice enough with walking. “But first – help me find my stick.”

#little girl has a kill count now!! more at 11 #for context: I altered stuff leading up to the discovery of the eye #efri and sissel went off to play in the undiscovered halls of this ancient archeological dig site #on the grounds that efri has a great sense of navigation and they'll find their way back to the group no problem.#(efri has a great sense of navigation in the wilderness.)#(introduce her to a series of roads and buildings and she is lost in the sauce.)#their friends split up to look for them after they've been missing from a while (wandering around with great interest and no sense of place #(incredibly lost)#kazari happens upon them right as they've found a necklace at the end of a dead-end passageway that - when dutifully grabbed #for archeological research purposes - ended up triggering the wall to crumble or disappear or otherwise remove itself from the equation #and efri wasn't going to just. LEAVE that opening there.#come ONN kazari that's weird!! we can't just leave it!! what if it closes up and we never ever find it again and there's incredible secrets #that the college never finds! what if we never know what's through there!#we HAVE to know what's through there!#so on they go.#and so ensue the horrors #they pass a lot of dead bodies before the main all but those ones are all immobile #also sissel is the only one to receive the psijic projection warning. which she explains to the others as a ghost telling her secrets #which efri accepts bc this seems like the kind of place that would for sure have ghosts #and kazari goes sure that tracks this place is fucking creepy can we leave now (<- is also curious but HAS to put on a show of reluctance #because clearly no-one else is going to)#(permanent babysitter of kids with the worst self-preservation instincts imaginable)#(she is so strong. living every childcare worker's nightmare)#ANYWAY #:D #normal type stuff #posting because it matches the artwork I'm also posting! look at that thing!!!#fay writes #oc tag #efri

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