Tumgik
#spirit
yoursghouly · 1 day
Text
Tumblr media
Source: Sexy Hexy
122 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
"Wisp Encounter"
Concept art for The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Art by Adam Adamowicz
130 notes · View notes
a-path-by-the-moon · 2 days
Text
Tumblr media
145 notes · View notes
smallcloisville · 2 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Every character as Dawn Stiles
Ma Kent was iconic😂😂👌
30 notes · View notes
wayvcod · 11 hours
Text
Tumblr media
— me ajuda a te esquecer ☆
uso pessoal inspo @mercuryport
23 notes · View notes
rat-at-heart · 1 day
Text
Tumblr media
Saw the movie Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron once through a window in the farmer's house and now it's his whole personality
21 notes · View notes
mtg-cards-hourly · 2 days
Photo
Tumblr media
Tradewind Rider
"'Tis a shame, in such a tempest, to have but one anchor." —Laurence Sterne, *Tristram Shandy*
Artist: John Matson TCG Player Link Scryfall Link EDHREC Link
19 notes · View notes
bcbdrums · 1 day
Text
Ascent
A Soul Eater story. Read on: AO3 | FFn
A/N: Monthly OTP prompt fills from this list for Spirit and Stein, because I cannot stop writing about them. I’m happy to hear recommendations each month for which prompt to write next. March's chosen prompt is: 3. Fresh Starts So without further ado... I just love them as babies. I love them so much.
Ascent
Stein stared at his hands where they rested on his thighs as the car rumbled over the cobblestones. He alternately spread his fingers and then brought them together again, watching the way tendon and bone moved beneath his skin, noting the blue of his veins and how asymmetrically they spread out within his flesh, and none quite the same between his two hands.
It had been a long time since he had truly been able to look at his hands.
The car's speed had slowed, and gravity lightly pressed Stein to the seat as it ascended steep hills, made sharp turns, and followed twisting paths through the city. Stein glanced out the window occasionally, but the sunlight was bright in a different way than the lights of his former residence, and the world it illuminated far too large. It was much easier to keep his focus on the interior of the vehicle, even if travel itself was a foreign sensation; the car's smallness was familiar, at least.
He was forced to alter his focus however, as the car finally arrived on level-ground and rolled to a stop. He looked past the man seated to his right and out the window, at countless stair steps that rose up out of sight, and black stone walls trimmed in red that also vanished beyond what he could see from his confinement.
The other man seated to his left opened the car door, got out, and then beckoned Stein follow with a wave of his fingers. He took in a slow breath, and then complied.
Stein hadn't been expecting Lord Death to be waiting for him, and apparently neither had the others, as one of their gasps was what first drew his attention to the Grim Reaper towering above them even at a distance as the three walked around to the other side of the vehicle.
"Heya! Good to see you again, Frankie! May I call you Frankie?"
Stein merely blinked up at the approaching dark figure, unused to speaking without permission. Soon the reaper's massive form blocked his view of the stairs and most of the building beyond. It was as he tilted his head backward to look up at the still, white mask, that he realized the men were no longer flanking him.
He turned to see them both a few paces away right next to the car, their bearing cautious, and on the car's other side the driver stood and watched them all with a look of unease.
Fear?
One corner of Stein's mouth turned upward.
"Well..." the reaper continued upon receiving no reply, "you must have some luggage with you?"
One of the men reached back into the car's open door, pulled out a shabby, gray, drawstring bag, and after a moment slowly extended the item toward Stein.
Stein looked at the limply-hanging item, considered a moment, and then raised his eyes to lock onto the man's. He kept his expression utterly still, not even blinking, until the man sucked in an anxious breath and quickly looked away.
With effort, Stein forced himself not to smirk as he reached out and took the bag. He didn't bother giving the same treatment to the other two men; their having seen was enough.
He turned his back on the men and the car, swung the thin straps of the bag over his shoulders like a backpack, and then stepped past the reaper to look at the veritable wall of stairs beyond. He slowly cast his gaze across the walls that framed them, and then upward to the oversized candles protruding from the building, the giant skull-masks with their spikes, and the towers that seemed to reach almost to the clouds.
"Well, that's all taken care of! See you around!" Lord Death was saying a few paces behind Stein.
He continued staring at the building, but his focus zeroed in on the sound of soft soles moving over the cobbles, the rustle of clothing as the men got back in the car, and the decisive click as each door closed in succession. He listened as the motor started, heard the sound of tires scraping against stone.
Stein held his breath as the vehicle rolled away, back down the hill and around a curve. He strained to hear until every last trace of the motor was gone, and the only sounds around him were the occasional chirps of a bird and the breeze against his clothes.
Stein closed his eyes tightly as he slowly exhaled.
The wind chilled the fabric of his linen pants, whipped it softly against his legs and cooled his skin as well.
When Stein opened his eyes his vision was blurred, and he blinked in surprise as tears fell hot over his cheeks. When had he last cried?
Probably more recently than he'd felt a breeze, he thought.
"Well..."
The Grim Reaper's voice was gentle where it sounded high above him, and Stein, suddenly and inexplicably self-conscious, hurriedly wiped the tears on his sleeve. Then just as quickly, he was startled as large hands clapped together in his periphery, and he shifted his gaze upward.
"I thought a tour of the academy first, and then I can take you to your room to meet your weapon partner! He'll be your roommate and he's already moved into one of the boys' dormitories."
'Roommate?' Stein thought. He had never shared a room before.
Lord Death had already begun moving toward the stairs, and Stein grabbed hold of the drawstrings over his shoulders and took large strides to catch up. There was so much to process of the new experience all at once that he almost missed the reaper's sudden stop when they were just reaching the stairs. He barely avoided stepping on the large black cloak that seemed to change its form as the reaper moved, but he didn't have time to analyze that as a new presence drew his attention.
"Spirit Albarn? I told you to wait at your dorm."
"I— I'm sorry, S-Sir. See, I realized I'd forgotten some books in my locker, and then I was already here so I figured I could just—"
Stein slowly stepped out from behind Lord Death to find the source of the stammering voice, and it stopped abruptly as the boy laid eyes on him.
Spirit Albarn, as the reaper had identified him, was at least a head taller than Stein, and thin. He was dressed in all black—a contrast to Stein's head-to-toe white—with the exception of hideous large gold buttons down the front of his jacket. But that wasn't what took Stein's breath away and caused his fingers to tighten on the drawstrings.
"Ah, well. I suppose there's no time like the present. Spirit, this is your new partner, Franken Stein."
Spirit's eyes—a shade of crystalline blue that Stein had never seen before—looked him up and down where he stood next to the reaper, and then his brow furrowed. But he apparently dismissed whatever his first impression was as his expression cleared and was filled with a bright, friendly smile as he stepped forward and extended his hand.
"It's nice to meet you, Franken."
Stein could feel Lord Death's gaze as his fingers tightened further on the thin strings that held the bag on his back, but his eyes were fixed on the face of the likely-older boy in front of him.
He knew what was expected. He was to reach out, shake the boy's hand, and offer some form of polite greeting; meaningless niceties to satisfy social etiquette, and then hopefully he could move on to gathering data on how to survive in his new environment. But even his ability to process these needs was rapidly failing him under the radiance of this boy that was taking over his every sense.
"Franken?" Lord Death said.
Spirit Albarn's smile weakened at the corners, his brow creasing slightly as he stood waiting.
Any appropriate words Stein could have said had left his brain. But the pressure of the requirement to speak forced his lips apart, caused one hand to release his grip on the strings. And before he could even begin to piece a sentence together, he heard his thoughts spill out freely as they hadn't in years.
"Your hair is the color of blood."
Spirit Albarn's eyes widened, and he blinked repeatedly as he appeared to process Stein's declaration. The offered hand began to retract ever so slightly, but just as quickly the boy's smile renewed and he reached for the hand Stein had started to move and gripped it firmly. His touch was as warm as the aura that seemed to surround him.
“Well, that’s better than 'copper-top' I guess, for a scythe,” the boy said.
Stein took in the feeling of each strong finger wrapped around his, the confident and assured way his hand was being shaken. And then the touch departed and left his hand feeling strangely empty. He hurriedly gripped the drawstrings again.
The crimson-haired boy glanced past Stein, looked around in confusion.
“Where’s your luggage?”
Stein wanted to look up at the reaper, the self-conscious feeling having returned in the face of the other boy’s confidence. But he realized all at once as no answer was given for him that this was his new reality—that he was expected to and free to speak, that he got to choose the responses he gave, and that his thoughts were wanted.
And yet again, he was at a loss in the light of this new information.
He startled out of his musings when a large, white hand settled over his shoulders and gave him an affectionate pat on the back.
“I think this is all, right Frankie?” Lord Death said.
Stein watched the other boy’s brow furrow as he peered at the near-empty bag that held Stein's single change of clothes and a toothbrush he'd stolen.
“Yes,” he managed, tensing under the unexpected touch, but astonished that fear didn’t accompany it. Nor was the invasion of his personal space followed up with harsh manhandling, a command to silence, or confinement to darkness that lasted for days on end.
Stein closed his eyes and slowly inhaled, felt again the cool of the breeze against his face and the contrast of the sun's warmth atop his head. When had he last felt the sun?
He slowly let out his breath, focused on the feeling of air passing through his lips, and the tension began to ease from his shoulders. The reaper’s hand moved away, and Stein opened his eyes.
“Well,” Lord Death continued, “let’s get on with your tour!"
He stepped past Stein and began gliding up the stairs, the great black cloak changing its shape once more as it floated behind the mysterious being who seemed larger than life both in form and personality.
Stein was considering this irony when Spirit Albarn continued up the stairs. But he paused a few steps above Stein and turned back.
"I'm really excited to be your weapon, Frankie."
Stein's move to follow was halted by the boy's words. He was excited?
Stein almost smirked at the naiveté. This boy knew nothing about him, and he was sure it wouldn't be long before his youthful excitement turned to fear. How many days would Stein be roommates with this boy before he requested a change of accommodation? Before he no longer wanted to be weapon partner to someone like him?
The dark amusement Stein had gained from imagining that boy's bright aura dimming was arrested suddenly as he realized: the typical conclusions he was used to when he put someone off no longer applied. The parameters of his situation had changed entirely, and there was no way he could predict the possible outcome.
He'd been released to the Grim Reaper's school because he had potential to be a weapon meister, the great being had said. But when this other boy inevitably refused to work with him... Would Lord Death change his mind and...send him back?
Stein blinked and swallowed slowly. He hadn't considered the consequences of potential failure. He hadn't yet considered anything at all about his new circumstances; there hadn't been time. Even stealing the toothbrush had been a last-second thought.
"Oh, uh..."
Stein startled back to awareness and looked up at the boy again.
"Sorry, I should have asked... Is 'Frankie' all right, or do you prefer Franken? You can call me Spirit. I don't have any nicknames."
Stein set aside his deeper concerns for the moment. He considered both names, and the further diminutive 'Frank' that he was often called.
Within moments, his memory rang loud with a chorus of terrified cries, followed by those that were full of fury and viciousness. A rush of fear that nearly always accompanied the hearing of his name followed, and he felt a phantom pressure across his chest, a pulling at his shoulders and arms.
He shuddered, flexed his fingers just to remind himself that he could, and gripped the drawstrings tighter as sounds and images continued flooding his mind. But on the steps above, Spirit Albarn waited, and Stein held his gaze as he had that of the man who handed him his bag.
He was once again at a loss as he took in the older boy's expression. His almost-teal eyes were hopeful, his smile bright and welcoming. And with the halo of blood-red hair that feathered around his face he seemed to be practically glowing with the exuberance of life.
The cacophony in Stein's head faded to silence.
He felt his heart thunder in his chest as a fleeting thought—a wondering if this boy's blood did in fact match the color of his hair—passed through his mind in place of the bedlam. But it was all quickly overtaken by something new; a sensation Stein couldn't ever remember having before.
"Actually..." he began, taking the time to feel his voice on his tongue and lips, to hear it as he made the first decision that was his own in over two years. "Just call me Stein."
Spirit looked a bit surprised, if Stein was reading him correctly. And then his smile grew.
"Okay, Stein! I really hope you'll like it here."
Spirit smiled at him another moment, and then continued up the stairs after a fast-disappearing Grim Reaper.
Stein took a few steps up after them, and then paused. He turned back to look at the cobbles where the car had been, and then at the vast expanse of the city and the desert beyond, stretching limitless in every direction. The sight was almost dizzying, simply because he wasn't used to seeing distances so great.
Above, the sun grinned knowingly and shone warm on his face. The breeze at the high elevation continued to cool his thin, linen clothing. And as Stein squinted out toward the road that led across the sea of gold, he spotted a tiny speck glinting under the sun that was traveling rapidly away.
He stared after it until it vanished, too distant any longer to be seen, and suddenly he became aware of pain in his knuckles. He slowly loosened his grip on the drawstrings and with deliberate care moved his hands down to rest at his sides.
It was so difficult an idea to grasp, as it was something he had given up on long ago. But he forced the thought remain as he stared at the horizon, still expecting either to see the blinding speck return or else wake up and find everything around him a dream. But neither event took place. And gradually, the present reality took over.
Nothing about it would be easy; it would be stupid to pretend otherwise. But in that moment, all Stein wanted to think about was the fact that he could move, and he could breathe. And that he was in control of each and every breath.
He turned around and lifted his gaze. Part of the way up the steps Spirit Albarn had paused again, smiling down at him. And then at the very top, white mask angled toward him, waited the Grim Reaper.
Stein inhaled. Exhaled. It made no sense, but somehow his lungs seemed to be filling with light, gradually growing brighter with each breath he took. And in his mind: a new, alluring quiet.
He listened gratefully to the silence as he breathed. He flexed his fingers again and lowered his eyes from Lord Death down to Spirit Albarn, and then to the stone steps just in front of him—let the pathway entirely fill his vision.
He stepped forward.
15 notes · View notes
nataliedecorsair · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
If you are polite and courteous, the spirits will kindly agree to take a picture for you - and other spooky arts I drew this year >:) Most of the arts are taking place in Heather's world, including the gambling scene (don't look under the table...) The last art is another awkward monster art and you can find the backstory here Previous spooky & Heather's world art post is here (you can see some recurring characters throughout the art) More Mari Lwyd (who is a Welsh spirit and is being a "crossover" in my art) is here P.S. - bonus points to you if you can find all the hidden frogs 🐸
10K notes · View notes
ex0skeletal-undead · 6 months
Photo
Tumblr media
Ghost painting by Gloomy Grove
This artist on Instagram
10K notes · View notes
oozmart · 2 years
Text
This tiktok is everything
38K notes · View notes
ladylowrely · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media
La Dame Blanche.
A banshee I did back in 2021/2022. It was supposed to be one small Valentine's day illustration but I never truly completed it. I told myself, why not share it!
11K notes · View notes
a-path-by-the-moon · 2 days
Text
Tumblr media
81 notes · View notes
isananika · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
to be free.
32K notes · View notes
zegalba · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
17K notes · View notes
inabigworld · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
10K notes · View notes