#surrounded by Spirit

[justaz]

a spell is cast on camelot that thins the veil enough for ghosts to appear. the catch? the ghosts that appear are spirits of people that were killed by the person they’re haunting. the knights have a good amount of bandits/raiders/whatever that they took down in battle, maybe a few shady knights have genuinely innocent people that they murdered and got away with. the executioner’s killings are transferred to the king since he was simply acting out the king’s commands. arthur has quite a few. uther has hundreds of sorcerers in various states of gore and horror. those who were hanged have perpetually bent necks, those who were beheaded have either no head or just a head floating a bit above their body, and those who were burnt are more charred remains (the most grisly of them all). merlin has more than anyone expected (which was zero) and all of them keep calling out for arthur/uther’s death and camelot’s downfall while also turning to merlin and calling him a traitor.

[surreal-duck]

es rarepair week 2024 day 1 | AU/future

lil ghostic au of mine!!! yuzuru and the rest of fine are long since trapped souls in an abandoned mansion of which rst come across while looking for shelter during a storm :] it doesnt um. particularly end well

[serpentface]

This was going to be a panel of a little comic but I got too invested in drawing minute background details so, here.

[yoku-yukihime]

"Such a sweet, tormented soul... Please tell your princess all your woes one more time..."

[aceattorneyrambles]

( Ace Attorney: Spirit of Justice spoilers ahead! )

Trucy making the effort to ensure Apollo and Dhurke spend time together during the first part of Turnabout Revolution was a cute little goofy Trucy moment at the time but upon reflection it ends up being a little sad in context.

This is a girl whose father abandoned her for years, and that same father dies before they can meet again. Is it any wonder that Trucy sees Apollo and Dhurke’s situation and pushes for it to go better for them?

(How does it affect her, I wonder, to find out that Dhurke died before meeting Apollo again as well? What does she think of how Dhurke’s main desire upon getting a second chance was to see his left behind son one last time? Does she ever think that, if Zak got the same opportunity via spirit medium, he may have come to see her?)

[ilovefredjones]

the frozen ii ending makes me soooooo angry like the whole POINT of frozen i was that elsa learned that she could rule arendelle with her powers and with anna by her side!!! literally in the bway musical she sings ‘i know i’ll never see that sunny day / when this trial is finally through / and it can just be me and you’ like. elsa WANTS to stay with anna

and they try and explain this somewhat in into the unknown, with the ‘who knows deep down i’m not where i’m meant to be’ but. WHY isn’t she where she’s meant to be. all of the first film was her learning that she belonged in arendelle and her powers/herself wasn’t something to be afraid of. why isn’t she meant to be with her family? with her sister who’s been desperate to reconnect with her? why doesn’t she belong where people readily love her and accept her and want the best for her?

and then, what about anna? there is no mention of her wanting/being ready to be queen in either two films. we don’t even see the offer on screen; we don’t get the sisters’ quiet, vulnerable conversation where elsa admits to wanting to live with the rest of the nature spirits and anna offers to take her place as queen. we don’t see anna begging elsa to stay in the forest because she can rule if elsa’s happier there. we never see their dialogue. it’s just so sudden. is anna once again just going along with what her sister wants? is elsa isolating herself all over again? we just don’t know. they both seem happy, but there’s barely any indication that it’ll lead up to that point.

it just makes no sense for either of their arcs, or their previous wants/needs. if they were meant to stay together, why separate them again? they just got each other back. and now they’re alone again.

[shima-draws]

This actually terrifies me tbh because in boss fights your team is ALWAYS on the bottom. Facing whoever is in front of you. You're the heroes and they're the villains. Except it's switched now;; Team Skull is on the bottom facing THEIR enemies. The protag is really turning out to be more and more of a threat, enough that even Team Skull is afraid of them;; are we. Going to be the villains of this story? That is INSANE to me

[spirit-lanterns]

rrrobin girlprince...... saves girls from monsters on the streets, makes those girls see god on the sheets good GOD she's so versatile, how can she be so pretty and also handsome????

The power of Robin makes her a queen amongst women 👑

Masculine, feminine? Robin can somehow pull both and that’s why so many maidens swoon for her. She is every girl’s type and more <3

She’s like that one knight that rides into town, and immediately every girl in the vicinity squeals to try and get her attention. They’d be fangirling over her while Robin happily waves and greets all her adoring villagers, but not before quickly trotting off on her horse as she has only one girl in mind that she wants to see; you.

[batbabydamian]

Robin: Son of Batman (2015) by Patrick Gleason is THE peak Damian story arc and pure fun and emotion!!

[fictionadventurer]

🌠

[urne-buriall]

so I said there was one more spirit of the west alternate scene to go. this time we pose the question: "what if Cas wasn't away at the lawyers' after the final fight with John?"

John would look for him at Bobby’s or Ellen’s. He couldn’t bring them into his mess.

He had the option to pass through town or around it, but he didn’t want to attract attention. The Impala was a beautiful car, but everything that made it so distinct made it impossible to hide. He felt that just driving through with his broken window, even if all the others were rolled down, people would simply take one look and know. The evening deepened, but it wasn’t dark yet. They’d peer in the windows and they would see a battered boy, see the way Dean gripped the wheel to hold himself up when his whole back curved in a vain attempt to ease the horrible pain in his ribs.

It was tempting to go to the laundromat, to try finding Cas once more, but there was nowhere in town to conceal his car. Street parking only. He didn’t know if John would try to follow him now or later. Whatever happened, he couldn’t afford to be found out.

He didn’t even know if Cas was there. He hadn’t been this morning. He’d be so busy and he wouldn’t want Dean’s problems and...

No, that wasn’t it. That had never been it. Dean spent so long not wanting anyone to know, but he’d announced it for the first time to Kate, yesterday. That barrier had broken. The worst had happened. There was no point in trying to hide. This was the time it had to come out. What else could he do? What else could he lose? He’d lose Cas if he hid from him now.

Still, he had to get off the map  before he figured any of this out.

He took himself out of town. He didn’t have much money, didn’t want to spend the last of it on a motel room that would only grant him one or two nights of shelter. As darkness fell he pulled the car in at a truck stop favoured by long-haul drivers. There was a row of payphones along one wall. The one nearest the kiosk door was in use, so he took the furthest possible to avoid being overheard. He put a quarter in and dialled Cas’ number from memory.

It rang three times and Dean despaired, but before it could ring the fourth Cas picked it up.

“Hello?” He sounded tired. He was likely sick of phone calls. He didn’t like phones at the best of times, and Doc’s death compounded the amount of time spent answering calls.

“Cas, hey,” said Dean. “It’s me.”

“Dean.” His voice relaxed over the line. “Cesar said you were looking for me.”

“Yeah,” said Dean. “God, it’s good to hear your voice.”

“Same here,” said Cas. “I was wondering if I should call.”

“No,” said Dean, too quick. He cleared his throat briefly. “No, it’s. You can’t call the ranch for a while.”

“Oh.”

So much could be said about that ‘Oh.’ Dean closed his eyes. He should talk more, but his words were too thick in his throat. He closed his eyes.

“Is there something wrong?” Cas asked.

Dean nodded his head first, even though it couldn't be seen. A tear slipped down from his closed eyes. He turned his body to angle away from the parking lot, bent towards the phone and the separating glass. “I just—” he said. Tried to get control of himself. He couldn’t confess to it all over the phone. That didn’t feel right. “I just had to leave there.”

“Where are you now?” It was a fast question, splitting down straight to the important elements without first asking why.

“Truck stop,” said Dean. “Thirty minutes out of town. I don’t know where I’m going.”

“Can you come here?” asked Cas.

“No, Cas,” said Dean. “I can’t be in town. Because the car… I mean, the— the gossip. People would know where I am.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Cas,” said Dean. By which he meant, he was not in current danger. Likely. If he was spotted crying to his boyfriend over a payphone at the edge of a truck stop, that might not be the case for long. He straightened up, although it strained his sore ribs again to do so. He wasn't sure how bad he looked yet. Sometimes it took a while before bruises found their colour.

“You want to stay somewhere out of town,” Cas clarified, thinking out loud.

“I don’t have loads,” said Dean. “I thought maybe a motel, but that... that won’t work long.”

“Can you call me back in ten minutes?” Cas asked abruptly.

“What?”

“I have to ask someone something.”

“Oh. Okay.” Dean didn’t want to hang up the phone. He didn't want to lose his connection to Cas. He was afraid he’d never get it back. “I’ll talk to you in a minute.”

“Ten,” Cas said again.

Dean checked his watch after he hung up so that he could be precise. He went back to his car, closing the door and looking over at the passenger seat covered in glass. The rock that John threw sat against the door. Part of Dean wanted to get rid of it, to pitch it into the pine forest that bordered the large parking lot, but part of him didn’t have the spirit. It reminded him of his father and of why he could never go back. A horrible talisman of what had just happened. It felt too powerful for him to mess with.

After ten minutes passed, he went back to his previous phone. He ignored a few looks from two truckers standing by the front end of an eighteen-wheeler. He was looked at sometimes. He knew his deficiencies. This time, he couldn’t tell if what they eyed were his injuries or his too-delicate features. He didn’t want to stay past this phone call, jumpy under the attention. He felt increasingly unwell. The sky was dark not just with encroaching night, but with rain clouds carried in by a cool wind.

“I have somewhere you can stay,” Cas said after he answered.

“You serious?”

“Missouri mentioned it to me at her barbeque. That she had a place a little quieter and out of town. She’d been renting it to a writer, but he left. I have a lease on the apartment, but I said I’d remember it. It’s still available. We can go there tonight.”

“We?”

“I— I won’t stay if you don’t want me to,” said Cas. “But I want to make sure you’re set up.”

“No, I want you to stay,” said Dean. “Just…” He didn’t want Cas to expect too much. He didn’t want to share the only thing he had to bring: the pain and the damage. “It’ll be good to see you. We’ll... We’ll talk when I get there.”

Cas gave him directions, said he’d be there before Dean. Dean pretended he didn’t see one of the truckers peel away from the cab to slowly make an approach. He got into the front seat and started up the car, feeling the eyes follow him as he drove away.

In the night, it was slow going to make out the roads, the varying turns. His muscles kept spasming as if they only now understood the pain. He felt ghastly and sick. He wanted to fall asleep. It took all his focus to keep his vision straight. He wanted to stop driving and rest instead.

Finally he reached the cottage with its open gate. He parked the car under a leanto, where he might avoid rain coming in the window. The motorbike rested there too.

Inviting light seeped around the curtains of the front windows. Dean opened the door to step in and Cas looked up from where he’d been unloading a paper bag of groceries.

The expression on his face changed. Dean knew what it meant. Knew how bad he must look. That distress as Cas swept forward from around the island to meet Dean at the door. When Cas hugged him it was fast but careful. An arm around behind his shoulder blades, one around his waist, close but not tight. Leaving it to Dean to lean his body in and grip Cas tightly in return. It was hard to breathe, hard to think, and his eyes felt hot again with unspent tears.

“I thought— You said you were okay,” said Cas.

That was all it took. Someone saying, definitively, that this was not okay. Dean shuddered with the first wave of tears, face bent into Cas' collar. And he was held, rocked, hair stroked until he’d collected himself enough for Cas to lead him to a couch and sit down with him. An arm still around him, encouraging him to stay close.

“What happened?” His voice was low as gravel, quietly encouraging.

“Sam left,” said Dean.

“Sam left,” Cas echoed.

“And I knew it was over. I told Adam’s mom what he’s like, and he found out.”

“He’s done this before,” said Cas.

“My whole life,” said Dean.

Cas let his hand stroke over Dean’s shoulder, a reassuring touch, thumb rubbing. He paused and looked over at where his hand rested, then down at Dean. “You never fell off Jagger.”

Dean shook his head. “Bad fight. Went down the stairs.”

Cas slid his hand back across Dean’s shoulders, then gently lifted it to Dean’s face. His thumb traced outside the edge of a bruise. “Where else are you hurt?” he asked.

Dean gestured  at his ribs. Cas helped him out of his flannel shirt, lifted off his t-shirt to check on the bruises.

“Lie back,” Cas said as he stood. “I’ll get you some ice to help the swelling.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” said Dean, and Cas stopped. He looked at him steadily, and even though his expression hadn’t changed there was something about that look, that suspended moment. Dean wiggled his way to lie down against the couch.

“Please let me look after you,” said Cas. And Dean nodded his head.

No one had taken care of him before. He’d hidden every hurt. Even from the person who caused them, never letting on to John the consequences of the pain he caused because it would only inflame his anger all over again and make him despise Dean more than he already did. For being weak, for being useless, for accusing John of bad conduct by holding his own actions up to him. Dean had spared everyone but himself from witnessing the reality of his distress.

Cas came with painkillers and a glass of water. He had Dean hold an icepack wrapped in a tea towel to his cheek and Cas iced the worst parts on his ribs. The throbbing pain abated some under these two influences. Meanwhile, Cas returned to the kitchen to make up a can of vegetable soup and buttered toast. While he found the pots and plates in the kitchen, Dean’s eyes danced around the ceiling of the cottage, then took in the furniture.

“This place reminds me of somewhere,” he commented, the first words he’d spoken in some time.

“Where?” Cas asked.

Dean tried to place it, thinking of any guest house he might’ve stayed at while travelling for events, but his mind came up with nothing. John favoured cheap motels when they weren’t at the farm, and with so many horses to look after they didn’t leave it often.

“I can’t remember,” said Dean.

Outside, the rain picked up, sounding against the cottage roof and hushening the rest of the world. Cas looked up from scraping butter across toast and said, “I’m glad you’re not out in that.”

That night Cas stayed with him, sharing the bed in the cottage’s pale blue bedroom, a white afghan draped only up to their waists in the warm night. One side hurt less to sleep on than the other, so Dean slept facing Cas, their arms and knees intertwined. Cas’ soft, even breaths did more for Dean’s peace of mind than anything else could’ve.

Still, he had a dream that didn’t seem like a dream. Watching his mother move through this cottage, her blond hair loosely braided, setting Sam down in a white wicker bassinet while Dean, just four years old, leaned over with her to make sure that Sam was okay, and to be there if his mom needed anything, like the hug she then wrapped Dean up in, stroking his hair and kissing his forehead.

He woke from the dream with an aching mix of feelings. Confusion and tenderness and a wish that he could’ve known how to make things right. In the moonlight he took in Cas’ sleeping face. Those dark eyelashes against his cheeks, his lips faintly parted. It struck him in a way that he hadn’t quite understood before that this was right. This was where he was supposed to be, and who he was supposed to be with. This was the beginning of the life he wanted to have. The love he wanted to have. This was the choice he got to make.

It wasn’t about that final fight. It wasn’t about the fear of John or the feeling that he couldn’t return home. Dean wasn’t accepting whatever fate handed him: he was choosing this. He would choose a life with Cas, whatever that future might look like. He would choose someone who could heal rather than hurt. Who didn’t need to offer anything other than a lifetime of love and regard. Who believed in Dean and saw him as the person Dean wished himself to be. The person he could be with Cas’ love.

He fell asleep again with more love swelling his heart than he had ever known. This night had set him free.

[gideonisms]

latest unhinged work event is that my boss has started gathering us all around at 5:30 in the AM to do group exercises...tbh I really enjoy exercising on my own time, have never had trouble staying active, and have no negative associations with group exercise IT'S THE PRINCIPLE OF MY BOSS TELLING ME TO DO JUMPING JACKS

[powdermelonkeg]

I’ve always just seen Zelda & Link as good friends, in any game. (Except for Skyward Sword, those two are dating)

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[science-lings]

i just think that Wild should come back to the chain with a magic rock, I mean it's not like he would be the only one with a magic rock, Look at Twi's shadow crystal or Wind's walkie-talkie necklace, and what would we call all of Legends rings if not wearable magic rocks? The ocarina of time? MAGIC ROCK with some holes in it. You know what Hyrule's magic sword is made of? THAT'S RIGHT! MAGIC ROCKS

And guess what was left behind with no explanation in totk, that had a whole quest attached to it that stood in parallel with a bunch of other versions of the same scene where someone gets a magic rock? MINERU'S secret stone, SPIRIT SAGE LU WILD LETS GO

[vulturebeetlesnake]

Seven (plus one) Sentence Sunday

thank you for the tag, @bcbdrums <3

Spirit's real, in a patchwork sort of way. He's real when he's nestled against Marie's side on the couch, or when Sid's captain and picks him first, or when he finds lab-synthesized candies in wild flavors in his jacket pockets. He's real when he's shielding and attacking on behalf of his meister, when he's ridding the world of the targets assigned them by Lord Death. He can't tell if he's real sprawled across his bed, music in his headphones and his homework only half-done, abandoned across the room on his desk. He wasn't when he'd been kissed by the girl who had cried on his shoulder after her partner had been hurt badly on a mission. But he is whenever he's roused from dour brooding by Marie's hand slipping into his. He wasn't when he and Stein had been called to the front of the class as an example of how a weapon's physical form changes with different techniques; but he was when he and Stein practiced those same techniques in the woods, their hair and clothes sticking to their sweaty skin, refreshed by the cool damp softness of the moss when they flopped down exhausted and glowing with proud satisfaction. It would be nice to be solid, rather than flickering in and out of existence according to foggy criteria he fails to fully grasp.

[atomicrow]

Really late to the AHIT party, but made an OC anyway

Their name is Cyuso! A green, eyeless fire spirit!