#sanctuary spirits

[trashowari]

funny days guide spirits

[anonimusunnoan]

Me n the Bois after scarfing down 5 plates of biryani, on our way to get desert.

[usertoxicyaoi]

"Atashi ... Atashi ..."

SMELLS LIKE GREEN SPIRIT (2024). EPISODE TWO.

[mieczyslawn]

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ₊⠀˚ ʚ ﹒⠀over the moon, captures!icons

[goliath-de-senfina-sango]

I remember one person pointed out that the speed and accuracy with which Danny sketched Dash getting strangled by a skeleton pointed to him being a pretty good illustrator, and it got me thinking. What if instead of a spirit’s Sanctuary being already there Encanto style, they make the place themselves?

Imagine Danny drawing up plans for his very own space station he can observe the heavens from, and then after Frostbite or Johnny or Sidney tells him about making a sanctuary, he does some practice with like. Molding clay and stuff for a good Earthly analogue.

And then he builds it! A space station of his very own that most ghosts have the manners not to go into! It grows and evolves with his thoughts, an extension of his mind the way a spider’s web is, but he built it first.

[thelordismylightandmysalvation]

Verse of the Day - 1 Corinthians 3:16

[arthur-lesters-spinal-cord]

Charlie Dowd from @teafromthemicrowave’s The Boykissers au as Billy Duffy from the Cult.

I think he would be a massive Cult fan, they're the perfect mix of goth and metal head for him

[borealwrites]

Whenever there was a storm, Iruka remembers his parents hiding him away. The barrier seals that cover his windows dull the thunder into a low rumble, like how he remembers the sea, and all he can see through the glass is an inky darkness. Those seals are the first ones they teach him, and they tell him to always have them on hand.

When he’s a little older, he asks why he can’t watch the storm like his friends. They tell him that around when he was born, there was a terrible storm that lasted for weeks. In desperation, his grandfather prayed to the storm gods, offering up his newly born grandson as a sacrifice if they would make them stop. And the storms stopped. Unwilling to let such a fate befall their child, his parents took him and fled to Konoha.

Iruka isn’t sure he believes in storm gods, but he loves his parents. Then the kyuubi comes, and suddenly gods don’t seem so fake anymore. So he covers his room at the orphanage and then his apartment with wards, and bites back the defensiveness when Mizuki makes fun of him. It isn’t the thunder and lightning he’s afraid of, it’s what they could bring.

When storms are coming, he can feel his skin crawl, like someone is watching him. Iruka strengthens the wards on his apartment and doesn’t take missions, instead hiding away in the Hokage Tower, where nobody can touch him. Some storms make it feel like someone if pounding at his barriers. On those nights he tucks himself into the corner of his apartment, as far from his windows as he can, and huddles under a blanket, wishing he weren’t so alone.

But Iruka cannot outrun and avoid storms forever. There’s a stillness in the air when he’s assigned a mission with Hatake Kakashi that he cannot refuse. Overhead the clouds are full and heavy with rain, and there’s a tinge of ozone that sets Iruka’s nerves on edge. Thunder rumbles in the distant sky when they find the enemy’s trail, and the clouds burst upon first clash.

It takes every bit of Iruka’s skill to keep from being overwhelmed. The enemy is too strong, and his heart too soft. All the warnings his parents repeated tug at him, and he’s too distracted.

Lightning strikes the tree that Iruka’s opponent is crouched in, close enough he can feel the heat. The air is saturated with enough chakra that Iruka feels drunk off it, even as it makes his hair stand on end. Blinking to clear the searing light from his eyes, Iruka chokes on a gasp.

Before him stands Kakashi, his arm buried in the chest of the now very crispy enemy ninja, sparks of electricity arcing almost lazily across his body. With a flick of his wrist Kakashi’s arm is free, and he glares down at the corpse. Something feels wrong, and while Iruka’s common sense screams at him to move, he feels rooted to the spot. Two eyes, one storm cloud grey and the other heat lightning red, lock onto his.

Kakashi’s hand, the one that had just killed a man, cups Iruka’s cheek. Once, while experimenting with seals, Iruka had shocked himself with a raiton based seal. It had hurt, and left his arm numb for two days. The merest brush of Kakashi’s fingers brings the same feelings for half a second before subsiding into a strange tingling sensation.

“I can finally touch you, my Iruka, my bride,” Kakashi’s voice was a low growl, an almost predatory sound that made Iruka jerk back. As soon as he broke contact with Kakashi, it seemed like all of Iruka’s strength left him. Like a puppet with cut strings he collapsed, and was only saved by Kakashi gathering him into his arms.

“Rest, Iruka. I’ll take care of everything else,” Kakashi cooed, and Iruka found himself helpless to resist. His last thought before he sank into unconsciousness was if his parents would be disappointed he didn’t fight harder.

This can now be found, in an expanded version, on Ao3

[benny-travels]

Benny visited a real life ostrich dragon! And a handsome one too!!

[kw4bbage]

Goofy ahh jellyfish emo- i mean 'sunset' phase

[vols-nonsense]

To the sleepiest of travellers I know

My piece for the Like Light Through The Prism zine anthology for Pride Month.

Explanation below because it’s a bit long

I themed it around one of my favourite spirits - the Off-Season/Home/Old/Daily/whatever-you-call-them Guide, AKA Sleepy Traveller (I like to think they’re the same person!) and their cousin, Sanctuary Guide (according to Ash, that is.) for the emotional ties I have to the former and the implications of them both being magic users. It fits perfectly with the turquoise stripe meaning magic on Gilbert Baker’s rainbow flag - the stripe meanings being the theme for the zine as a whole!

There are many forms of love aside from what’s societally pushed as ‘most important’, so I wanted to express the value of familial love through this (the text being inspired by my own feelings about Sleepy too, though in different ways) and the emotions felt around a long-overdue reunion, when those you value the most indefinitely separate from you and the aches for their return, especially when that happens often.

I’ve had to deal with a lot of loss of sorts over time, including losing contact with people that I know understand and accept me the most, especially as a queer person. This is to honour all those lost bonds, and ones that reform despite it all, and ones that never do.

-

That aside, I hope you enjoy this piece! My first big one on a drawing tablet too. Had a lot of fun figuring it out, and the payoff was very worth it.

[lettersfromgod]

▶️ THE LORD COMES NIGH; MAKE THE WAY STRAIGHT FOR HIS RETURN!: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=4r5oSybwqas&list=PLE8FlkxQPQkM99Siv2xPqHtuLS9gEQ6FA&index=13

📖 Source: https://www.thevolumesoftruth.com/The_Lord_Comes_Nigh;_Make_the_Way_Straight_for_His_Return

[bestestspirit]

hey, this bracket is for fun, it's supposed to be inconsequential and lighthearted.

if your faves loosing makes you seriously upset, please unfollow and block this blog, you don't owe anyone your participation.

every spirit is special and someone's favorite, just because they're less popular than others doesn't make them any worse. they matter to you, you love them, and that's enough.

[wilderun]

Yote pal at the sanctuary I volunteer at

[karmaspidr]

Dunno if you know the vengeful human spirits, basically a what if scenario on where the dead children possess frisk and commit genocide as revenge for their deaths, would desert sanctuary clover like them or would they think they went too far?

In the future, please go to @desertsanctuary-blog to ask questions about Desert Sanctuary.

Clover would not support their actions. The run before the one where he started the Sanctuary was a Vengeance Run. He was sickened with himself after he had time to process what had happened, even before that timeline, which is why he reset.

Whether the children are doing this out of their free will or because they were corrupted by Hate or something like that, he would try to appeal to their humanity and convince them to stop.

[distopea]

"Gabriele." A whisper, unsure at first if she even wanted to be heard. Then a slow sigh exited the queen, admitting that it didn't matter what she wanted, and slid her body off from straddling his back, sitting next to where her guard lay on the bed. Her hand gently, slowly rubbed his back in an attempt to start waking his body back up before consciousness fully returned to him as well. "Gabe." A hair louder this time, like waking a child for school.

Hibiko's skill was far from that of a professional masseuse, at least by the standard she was used to. She had enough experience from practicing on Rhodri, though it was entirely possible he just wanted to entertain his wife wanting to feel sweet and helpful when he was overly stressed. However, when she had moved to again put more of her signature-scented lotion on her hands, and heard all too clearly the sound and pattern of Gabriele's breathing change as he fell asleep, there was no higher compliment.

Diligently, she continued to press and knead areas of his back and shoulders, freely stealing a few kisses from wherever she wished. She continued until her arms tired, and pushed further still until her fingers were equally sore. It wasn't like she had the muscles to go for very long, after all.

With the way his body flinched, it was clear Gabriele woke up in mild confusion, Hibiko staying gentle as ever. "Relax, it's okay. I was keeping an eye on the time." She reassured, letting the guard wake up at his own pace. ". . . Though I believe you should be getting back to work soon."

Once he fully sat up, Hibiko too decided to move and got off the bed, collecting his things. "Feeling a little better?" She questioned, handing over his shirt, jacket, and tie piece by piece as he dressed.

@royaletiquette

In front of his eyes, there was a patchwork of pastel colors warming his soul. He could feel the touch of the sun traveling over his entire body, along with the salty breeze of the sea caressing his features. As if the sun had fingers, it followed a certain path upon his tanned skin, scheming his shoulders, drawing circles on his sore muscles, until he felt nothing but a sweet sensation of relief. The moment felt suspended in a line of time he couldn’t recall, nor he did remember when everything had started and why it felt so good to be under the sun again. 

A certain scent came to his nostrils ; something unfamiliar with the scenery. A powerful smell of flowers invading his space, giving him the hint that he was perhaps lost in a dream. His mind cracked between his illusions and reality, as once more, he caught up with the pace of someone pressing their fingers on his back, and the sensation of kisses dropped all over his body. 

Gabriele smiled. He had truly forgotten the sensation of being pampered, unsure if he had ever experienced it at all. When their motions eventually stopped, he couldn't help but open his eyes, still unsure to picture who was hopping off his back. He sighed, but recognized the gorgeous features of the Queen by his side. He strangely felt more intimacy in seeing her loosen hair rather than her exposed thighs.

He could have felt guilty ; after all, he was lying down with her, they were intimate, and her husband was working somewhere else without being aware of that. Yet, Gabriele was still certain it was worth the risk. Still, incapable of remembering when he had laid down on her bed, he looked at the clock on the night table, before she reassured him about the time. 

“Putting me back to work after being so gentle? That’s harsh, ma’am,” he teased her, but before she could protest, he pressed one kiss on her shoulder, permitting himself to earn this prize while her guard was still down. There were still limits between the two of them, despite crossing numerous frontiers. He hoped she would enjoy herself a little longer, yet, Hibiko was already quick to cut the moment. For some reason, she was already collecting his clothes, giving no time for Gabriele to protest. 

Still in charge. Still in control. 

“I’m good. Grazie.” He confirmed, sitting at the edge of the bed and flattening his dark hair on his skull. He grabbed his pants and slid them back on, then started to fix his shirt. He observed her from the corner of his eyes. Deep down he didn't wish for this instant to end like this. In such a business style. Cold, insensitive... Far from their burning passion and what she wanted.

“Hibiko,” he called her, until he finally met her eyes. He wanted her to stop being a gentle spouse, a parenting wife, or anything she was displaying right now. She was no wife to him, and he didn’t wish for her devotion or gentleness. “I can pick them up myself.” He said, bringing her wrist to his lips. He didn’t kiss her, but he nibbled on her skin. He looked at her with intense eyes, like a predator going for his prey, locking their irises together. 

She was no wife to him ; she was his lover. She needed to be seen as the woman she was, not the role she had become. Not the Queen, not the Head of the Country, not the Crown, not the Mother. A woman who could come from his tongue only, who could embrace her femininity, and adore that passionate side of hers. A woman who desired this. 

He pulled on her wrist, his mouth disappearing in the crook of her neck. She still smelled like the massage lotion. There, he placed an urgent kiss, avoiding marking her skin because he had promised at least to save her honor, even if, at that moment, he wanted to devour her. Not that gently, he pressed his thumb on the skin of her thigh, coming up and up, only to recreate that cascade of goosebumps and shivers she needed to experience.

“Hibiko…” He breathed her name again, right against her ear, until eventually he grabbed her chin, invited her to turn her head aside until they would face each other, and captured her lips with a furious passion. 

He enjoyed the forbidden dance of their tongues, his whole mind and body demanding more. She had offered him softness, he wanted her to feel alive. He kissed her until they needed to breathe, and while he eyed the clock again, he eventually knew he had to control himself. “I’ll be outside.” He said, resisting the urge to press another kiss on her lips. He wouldn’t give her that. Not now. Not anymore. 

Somehow, his greedy self was hoping she would ask more in the future.