#sah!ghost

[not-your-chosen]

@sah1x1s Gets the Baby for Ghost (ported from discord)

---

Rowena…

Poor Rowena. When her powers were found out it seemed like all hell broke loose, it was like an international arms race and she was the power they were coveting. It must have been months in this subterranean hellscape of doctors and needles and tests. They had- Its so hard that she couldn't even think. Her time raising chickens from the dead were long gone, She raised bodies, Multiple, the necromantic power nearly choked out her little innocent life.

Something about today was different: the doctors were frantic and the tests rushed. She was halfway through meal time -a routine rarely broken- When an influx of armed men came in, put her hands back into the small cuffs, and ushered her out of her room. Their pace was so fast she could barely keep up, Tripping she got a look back. Seeing smoke and hearing the gunshots closer now. Blue eyes met the eyes of a soldier in a skull mask for a fraction of a second before an armored man yanked her by the cuffs with force enough to pop her small arm out of its socket.

“Get the bitch over here!” a command, suddenly arms were lifting her up. She knew better not to fight, looking back still, craning her head back to see if she could find the masked man again. “She needs to get on the next helo outta here sta-”

Gunshots, Rowena was dropped, and she couldn't find any will or force to get up, holding her hands up, covering her head while signaling surrender, her small body shakes with silent sobs.

[not-your-chosen]

She hadn’t slept well in a while. Maybe it was the quiet of the flat instead of their little cot with everyone else on base, maybe it was what the therapist said: when you finally exit survival mode, you start remembering, having nightmares, because you’re finally safe to do so.

When Simon wordlessly gestured to the door she had gotten ready in silence before heading out. When the man stopped them she had flinched for a moment, before she realized what was going on. If he was saying anything bad Simon would’ve done something, and now looking behind the jolly man, seeing the realistic charcoal drawings she looked in curiosity.

She hadn’t remembered much about the outside since being in the lab but she was utterly enraptured taking in the art before a silence washed over the two men. She looked back up at Simon, trying not to look too pleading but… what a wonderful thing to be depicted in such a gorgeous art-form!

Simon -> Ro (@not-your-chosen)

Giving Ro a sardonic expression, Ghost simply rolled his eyes and gestured for them to exit the flat, his hand reaching out to grab his balaclava scarf that doubled as his mask on warmer days. He knew Ro wasn't feeling that well so when he'd asked and all he'd gotten in response was a shrug, he had to intervene.

Once they were on their way to the shop down the way that sold the little pastries that Ro loved and, in his opinion, ate way too much of, they were stopped abruptly by one of the street vendors, making their living busking or in this case drawing people as they passed for a quid or two.

"And what about the two of ye? A nice sketch of kin? I'm sure when you're older, you'd regret not having a moment frozen in time with the daughter!" He exclaimed, grinning at the large man and more petite girl at his side, causing Ghost to blink a few times before realizing what the busker meant, which only led him to widen his eyes and glance at Ro out of the corner of his eye, head tilted.

[141trash]

Every Man has his Breaking Point

AN: *Exhales loudly and screams* I had a mini panic attack because the links weren't working and I realized I hadn't reblogged the post but its fine because I scrolled my thousands of likes for this :) This is inspired by @bleuu-moon's post! I loved it and as I was eating my ramen ended up imagining Ghost in a similar position. unedited full of grammatical errors bc reasons

At first he thought you were a hallucination given that he'd been knocked over the head pretty damn hard during his capture. He woke up on the cold floor of some cell with you leaning over him, pressing a bit of cloth to his forehead. Swatting your hand away from his face, he forced himself to sit up and take stock of the situation.

There was a brief underlying panic when he realized they'd stripped him of his mask and you now knew what he looked like. All his weapons were gone as were his shoes and anything that might have been useful for escaping. Whoever took him clearly knew what he was capable of.

Wincing as he braced himself against the wall he finally turned his attention back to you. Definitely a civilian. Small, innocent, young. There had to be something that he didn't know about you that made you a target because you and him being stuck together in this situation seemed like such an odd pairing.

"What they want with you?" he asked hoarsely, breaking the silence. Your head shot up to look at him, nervously playing with the fabric between your fingers.

"I don't know." you replied shaking your head.

Simon grunted, but otherwise didn't say anything else. His head was throbbing painfully, but he needed to understand what was going on if he was going to get out of there. It occurred to him after a while that you might be working with his captors, placed there to gain his trust and get information out of him that way. If that was the reasoning then it was a stupid idea. A young pretty face wasn't going to get your bosses any answers.

He decided then that until he could confirm that theory he wouldn't interact with you again.

It was two days later when someone finally came in. The pair of you were on opposite sides of the cell. You'd been dozing on and off to keep from letting the anxiety overwhelm you, but when you heard the key scraping the lock to the outer door your head shot up instantly alert.

Across the cell Simon didn't lift his head to glance at the door, briefly though his gaze flitted to you, to see your reaction.

"Lieutenant Riley." a man with a grandiose voice greeted as a guard opened the cell door to let him in.

"I know you?" Simon asked almost boredly, looking at the man and not recognizing anything.

The man's face twitched slightly, hands tightening to fists at his sides, "Perhaps not. But I know you."

He looked at you then, causing you to shrink back from the slimy feeling that went down your spine.

"You don't like your gift?"

You shuddered at the obvious implication in his voice, tears welling up in your eyes.

"You must not know me very well if you thought that would get me to talk." Simon disparaged making a face in disgust. For a brief second you didn't know whether to be relieved or offended.

The man clucked his tongue like a bad superhero movie villain, a greasy smile spreading across his face, "Every man has his breaking point Lieutenant Riley. I'm excited for us to find yours."

[paranatura-verse]

So I was combing through the blog a bit trying to think of questions to ask, and I came across the post about the undead beings of the Paranaturaverse. I'm particularly intrigued by sahs. If I'm understanding things correctly, they're basically souls trapped inside bodies with no organs. You mention that they can be killed through impalement or a broken neck, and I'm just curious as to how that would work if they have no organs?

The simplest answer could just be "they're supernatural beings science doesn't really matter", but I like everything to have at least a passable reason rather than fob it off with the "a wizard did it" explanation.

As a sah is a spirit inhabited by a mummified corpse, it essentially substitutes for all the internals, particularly the nervous system. Breaking the neck severs the connection between head and body, and in turn also severs the spirit, which cannot survive in two parts. Alternatively, impalement is also a solution (particularly if the sah is pinned to something in the process, which hinders its movement), as it rips open the body. Without an intact body, the spirit is dissipated into the air.

Typically, when a sah was encountered, ancient Egyptian soldiers would perform both methods in succession to ensure the sah's destruction, impaling the sah and breaking its neck, before a priest would bless the empty corpse and it would be reburied.

[viralarcadian]

yelling at my phone watching the halloween ep of spn where Samhain is involved because fucking everyone in this show is saying it wrong

[trapper-spiritsunleashed]

Things I have learned about one of my mentors: he's the type of person to read a lot and be familiar with a huge vocabulary of words, but not necessarily how to pronounce them

[snw-faatuatua]

Gima Kunasi

(Gee-mah Koo-sah-nee)

Introducing my Lasat/Zygerrian oc! I tried to find more info about the Lasat when it came to names and language but I had no luck- so I just used a Lasat name generator haha.

The Ghost Crew had received a distress signal and were sent on a rescue mission— their primary target was one of many in captivity, including a Lasat mother and her child—Gima. They have been slaves and trafficked for years. Unfortunately things went haywire and the mother did not make it. Naturally Zeb brought Gima back to the rebels base in hopes of finding her a new home and family- but after such a traumatic event and loss, Gima had imprinted onto Zeb and refused to leave his side, becoming hostile towards anyone else.

He had tried to leave her in good care, as he was no where near in a position to take care of a child. But it was only a few days later he received a message requesting for his return due to Gima’s worsening condition. With the help of the medical team at the rebels base and even the Ghost Crew he was able to learn how to take care of Gima and eventually she was brought to a state where she could be left with a family while Zeb was on missions until she was old enough to join the Ghost Crew.

[koffeesfancy]

22. "why are we doing this again?" | Lila Iké x Reader

Summary: Were you making something out of nothing?

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 1130

A/N: Sorry, I've been away so much- mainly due to work, my bookclub, and some other projects taking up all of my time. I am still aiming to finish Fictober. And of course, I would like to publish more for Koffee's birth month in a few days. But, we will just have to see ::(

Taglist: @lyfeofbilly @koffee-lila-bailey

You groaned for the umpteenth time as Lila’s phone buzzed with yet another message. She was still fiddling with her makeup in the mirror, humming a tune as she flashed you a quick, devilish grin. “Mi nearly done,” she said, dabbing some highlighter onto her cheekbones.

“Why are we doing this again?” you asked, slumped on her couch with your arms folded, watching her through half-lidded eyes.

Lila spun around, one eyebrow raised as if the answer should’ve been obvious. “’Cause yuh cyaan stay up inna mi place like some ghost, moping over yuh shtupid ex.” She gestured dramatically toward you with her makeup brush. “Yuh fi step out, vibe, and look fresh. Trust mi, yuh need this.”

You snorted, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. “I don’t need to ‘vibe.’ I need people to leave me alone. Besides, you’re the one who’s gonna go out there, lookin’ like that”—you waved a hand toward her flawless outfit, a sleek emerald slip paired with gold jewelry—“and probably end up dancing with half the people there.”

She didn’t deny it, smirking instead. “Mi cyaan help dat mi look nice.” She winked at you through the mirror. “But mi nuh guh leave yuh out, sah. Mi mek sure we stick together.”

You weren’t so sure about that. It wasn’t the first time Lila had dragged you to a party and ended up in someone else’s orbit, leaving you to nurse your drink in a corner. You could already feel the knot forming in your stomach at the thought of her smooth charm and the way she moved effortlessly between crowds.

Lila’s tone softened as she came over, crouching in front of you. “Mi know it rough, girl. But mi just waan fi remind yuh seh yuh deserve happiness, yuh hear? If mi haffi drag yuh out di house every week til yuh find yuhself again, mi will.” She reached out and squeezed your knee gently.

Your face burned under her warm brown gaze, and you looked away, mumbling, “You’re really annoying sometimes, you know that?”

She burst out laughing, standing back up and grabbing her purse. “Yuh love mi same so. Now c’mon, yuh can’t go wearing that.” She eyed your oversized hoodie and sweatpants in horror.

You sighed but got up anyway, knowing there was no way you’d win this argument. As you shuffled toward her bedroom to change, Lila called after you.

“And hurry up, man! Yuh never know—maybe tonight yuh find someone worth yuh time!”

You rolled your eyes, muttering under your breath. “Yeah, right. Like I’m finding anyone better than you.”

-

The bass from the speakers thudded through your chest like a second heartbeat, and the air was thick with smoke, sweat, and the tang of spiked punch. Lila was in her element, laughing so loud you could hear her over the music, a cup in one hand and a blunt in the other. She swayed to the rhythm, carefree and magnetic, shouting lyrics at the top of her lungs like she owned the place. You sat on a barstool nearby, swishing your drink and wondering how long you’d have to endure this night before it was socially acceptable to leave.

At some point, Lila broke free from the crowd, weaving through the sea of bodies to collapse onto the stool next to you. She was breathless, her cheeks flushed from dancing, her eyes bright with excitement. “Yuh see mi out deh?” she asked, still bouncing slightly to the beat even while seated. “Mi mash it up!”

“Yeah, you’re amazing,” you muttered, tracing the rim of your glass with your finger.

She leaned in, unfazed by your sarcasm, and started rambling about someone’s terrible dance moves, her laughter spilling over like it couldn’t be contained. You tried to tune her out, your eyes fixed on the bottles lined up behind the bar. That was when the bartender slid two large cups in front of you, the vibrant pink drinks sloshing slightly as they landed.

“I didn’t order this,” you said, frowning.

The bartender tilted his head toward the other end of the bar, where a man in a crisp button-up shirt raised his glass in your direction, grinning. Lila’s head whipped around, and her face lit up like a sparkler. “Ey, big up yuhself!” she shouted, raising her cup back at him.

“Lila,” you hissed, glaring at her. “Why are you encouraging him?”

She laughed and took a big gulp of the drink. “Cause free drinks nice, mi love. Relax yuhself, man.”

The man eventually wandered over, already tipsy and overly friendly. He was the kind of guy who leaned too close when he talked and thought every offhand comment was an invitation to touch your arm. Lila didn’t seem to mind; she laughed at his jokes, clinking her glass against his as they traded drunken quips.

You, on the other hand, shrank further into yourself, uncomfortable and irritated. The man’s gaze darted between the two of you, lingering on Lila’s smile before sliding back to you with an unsettling smirk.

“Yuh two one couple?” he asked, his words slightly slurred.

Lila, ever the joker, gave him a sly grin. “Yuh waan wi fi be?” Then, without warning, she leaned over and kissed you, her lips warm and tasting faintly of rum and pineapple. 

Her mouth moved softly against yours, unhurried and deliberate, as if she had done this a hundred times before. The world around you seemed to dissolve, the music and chatter fading into a distant hum. All you could feel was the heat of her skin, the press of her lips, and the intoxicating mix of sweetness and smoke that lingered as she pulled away, leaving you breathless and unraveling.

The man whooped, clearly thrilled, and Lila pulled back, laughing so hard she nearly spilled her drink. “See? Mi can mek anything happen,” she said, shooting the man a wink.

You couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Your heart was pounding, and your brain had short-circuited, replaying the moment on an endless loop. It was your first kiss with her—soft, intoxicating, and everything you’d secretly dreamed it would be. But the bubble burst as quickly as it formed when you realized it was all just a joke to her, a way to entertain some random pervert at a party.

“Yuh good?” Lila asked, still giggling as she nudged you.

You forced a smile, hoping it hid the way your chest ached. “Yeah,” you said, your voice tight. “Great.”

But even as the night went on and the man eventually wandered off, the taste of her lingered, sweet and bitter all at once. And no matter how much you tried to push it away, you couldn’t stop thinking about how much you wished it had meant something more.

[nevertheless-moving]

reddit rarepair prompt > stormlight discord conversation > AU where after killing the king Moash goes to Mourn's Vault instead of giving himself over to Odium. Searches out Kaladin's ex. Finds her. It gets complicated. First:

Moash walked out of the palace unopposed the day he killed a king.

He stumbled a few times, parshman and human corpses littered the halls, and the light was strange and hard to come by, but no one actually stopped him. Or if they did, he killed them. He can't remember.

Everything between there and the tavern he was sitting in was a blur.

"I did it," he said hoarsely. "I actually did it."

No one said anything. He wasn't sure where the old owner, Jyn was. This was his grandfather's favorite place; he remembered coming here sometimes. Jyn gave him watered down yellow, but he put in a proper mug, like for a real man.

Their little secret, his grandfather would say.

He looked around. The place was empty. Right, he had to knock down the door to get in. Distantly, he could hear screaming. Fighting.

"I avenged them," he murmured to the dusty room.

"Come on, in and out—" Moash turned at the sound of voices, closer, coming from the wreckage of the door.

A man pushed his way in. "We grab a few bottles, so we have something to —"

The man stopped, catching sight of Moash in the dark and immediately reaching for his belt.

"What is it?" A voice said behind him. It was almost familiar.

"Someone here."

"Damnation."

"I did it," Moash said again, puffing out his chest. "Captain said I couldn't, but I did it. Sah's dead but…" His voice faltered, but he shook his head, clearing thoughts of marbled bodies. "I avenged them."

"Madman?"

"Obviously." "Reveler?" "Doesn't look like."

"Wait, wait — Moash? Is that you?"

Moash startled, squinting at the second man. "Mak?" Storms. A day for ghosts.

"Moash used to work the caravans with me," Mak whispered urgently. "He's strong, a man you want on your side when things get tricky."

Moash nodded. Yes. That was him. Strong. Someone you wanted on your side.

"You hiring, Mak?" Moash asked.

"Tell you what kid, help us get out of this city alive and we'll get you to the coast. Can't do better than that these days. "

"I'll want actual pay." But Moash was already standing as he spoke, hopping over the bar. "Especially if I'm helping you carry all this crem."

"We've got a contact near the border with Herdaz," Mak said quickly. "He'll pay us when we get there. Best we can do, times being what they are. How'd you end up here, Moash? I heard you went to the shattered plains for the last war, right?"

He didn't answer.

[tenebris-lux]

- chapter 27, Oathbringer

When Shallan assumed Amaram had killed her brother, it was easier to hold a grudge against him, because she didn’t really know the guy. It’s a different story when it’s a person you’ve connected with. And she knows Kaladin’s story, so that makes this harder to deal with. She also has her own moral dilemma with herself she’s dealing with—she killed her mother and she feels that wrecked her family into its current predicaments and necessitated killing her father. Amaram was really easy for her to hate because it was an apparently simple situation.

Not anymore.

It runs along a similar track to Kaladin’s thoughts about the awakened parshmen, shown in chapters 14, 17, and 20 (harder to screenshot, cuz it’s more spread out). “It’s us versus the Voidbringers.” But then he sees it’s more than that. The parshmen have been “restored” and … they’re justified. The ones he ran into are just trying to survive in a world that has made them a slave race.

(By the way, I love the scenes between Kaladin and Sah. Kaladin sympathizes and can kind of relate, but there are depths he can’t actually fathom. And Sah’s resentment towards him is entirely justified.)

The lines between who are the right guys and who are the wrong guys are more muddied; people can’t be divided neatly that way anymore.

That’s kind of a common element in this book. Dalinar is a living example of such.

Of course, some of these issues kinda get resolved later, when the “vengeful ghosts” element comes in and learning more about Odium—that makes it more clear about who to fight/root for. But even then it’s not simple.

…

- chapter 20

How do you be a good person with loyalties and sympathies on opposing sides? He went through some of this with Moash and Dalinar already, and this is going to go even deeper.

Is it any wonder that his father Lirin hates violence and war?

[capt-mactavish]

Teeth

I've been sitting on this messy werewolf!soap ghostsoap drabble for awhile and I'm tired of looking at it in my drafts so I'm just gonna post it.

Something was wrong with Soap.

Well, not exactly. 

Not wrong. 

Off, maybe.

Specifically with his teeth.

It sounds absurd, but really, Ghost is very observant, and there was something peculiar about Soap’s teeth.

Ghost had only seen it a handful of times. But he was sure of what he saw.

Canines that were just a bit too long to be normal. A bit too sharp. Not overtly so, but enough for someone who was paying attention to take notice.

Not that Ghost was paying closer attention to Soap than anyone else, no! 

It was just that…

There was something about the way, that when the Sergeant would smile, lips pulling back to reveal the pointed pearly whites, that Ghost’s heart would thump just a bit harder, fluttering inside his chest. His fists would clench tightly, as if aching to touch, sometimes to the detriment of whatever happened to be in his hand, such as newly wrinkled paperwork. 

It was a curious thing, how something so mundane could pull such a visceral reaction from the hardened soldier. And yet, he found himself enamored by it, seeking it out instead of trying to bury it down like he’d do any other time. 

He’d tell himself it was Soap’s fangs that had him so captivated by the Scottsman, beguiled by their origins and… implications. 

He’d tell himself that, but deep down he knew it wasn’t just his teeth Ghost had taken a fascination to. After all, there were other peculiarities surrounding Soap that Ghost had taken notice of as well. 

Like the fact that he was so much warmer to the touch than anyone else.

Ghost remembers the first time he had experienced it, grabbing Johnny by the forearm to hoist him up after getting knocked down in the field. His skin so hot, feeling it even through his gloves, Ghost had thought the Sergeant had broken out into a fever.

“Christ, Johnny, you’re burning up!” he had said, ready to fall back with Soap in tow and get him to the medic asap.

But Soap had just waved him off, “‘M fine, sah. Really. No need ta worry.” 

And so Ghost had let him go, and Johnny was fine as he had said. No sign of a fever or illness whatsoever as the Sergeant carried on as usual. 

Nothing except for the lingering heat on the Lieutenant's gloved hand. Like a burn, singed into his skin. 

Of course, when they got back to base, Ghost had tried to insist that Johnny be checked out anyway. But the Scot refused, swearing there was nothing to worry about. Even Price had dismissed him, which Ghost thought odd, but eventually he let it go. 

And Johnny was, indeed, just fine.

Another was the sheer amount of meat that Johnny consumed, and his apparent preference for it to be concerningly rare.

Only this time it was Gaz who had noticed first.

Soap had sat down at their table in the mess with his plate, the only contents a thick cut of bleeding steak and nothing else. 

“Where did you get that?” Gaz had exclaimed indignantly. “How come you get steak? I wouldn't mind a steak!” 

But Johnny just winked and replied, “Go’ a special arrangement with the cook.” Before cutting into his meat, so red it was practically still mooing. 

“That’s going to make you sick, Johnny,” Ghost had said, his morbid curiosity making it difficult to look away.

“Stomach o’ steel, L.t. Dinnae you worry,” was the response from Soap.

Gaz grimaced at him, but nothing else was said, and it just became the norm.

And then there was the fact that about once a month, Johnny would simply just disappear for a day or two at a time. 

A solo operation, Price had explained, and that was that on the matter as far as he or anyone else was concerned. 

But Ghost wasn’t so convinced. Especially when Soap would come back looking better than before he left. Practically glowing, like an immense weight had been lifted from his shoulders. And especially since Soap seemed to always be a bit on edge, aggressive, just before leaving on one of these “missions.” 

There was also the fact that the Sergeant possessed a strength Ghost had not imagined the Scot capable of.

The first time they had spared, he had pushed Soap to his limit, testing him. 

He succeeded in that, managing to rile Soap up to the point of fury.

And when Soap had pinned him, slamming Ghost’s wrists into the mat on either side of his head, he was surprised to find that he had been rendered completely immobile. 

Flexing his arms did nothing, there was no budging as Soap held firm. Even the body sitting atop Ghost's chest seemed impossible to move.

The Lieutenant even thought he had heard an inhuman growl come from the man as the back of his head hit the mat, but at the time it had gone unnoticed, too stunned by his immobility and how Soap had gotten the upper hand so quickly. 

“Soap!” Price had shouted, an edge in his tone, sounding much like a warning.

“Sah!” Soap responded, releasing Ghost immediately and letting him up.  

Ghost had stood, rubbing his wrists as he watched Soap and Price speak hushedly to each other for a moment before the Scot returned, looking very much like a scolded pup despite his victory over the Lieutenant.

After that, Soap had not pinned Ghost again. Not even as Ghost did his damndest to provoke him into doing so. 

It frustrated him, his interest piqued and curiosity left unsated, but it was another one of those things he had to just let go. 

Another of Soap’s peculiarities was that Ghost had noticed that the Sergeant had a almost supernatural sense of hearing. 

At first he chalked it up to nerves and Soap’s own imagination, but when Soap’s acute hearing had saved their lives, more than once, he was quick to become convinced of the man’s abilities. Putting absolute faith in him from thereon out when he said he heard something.

With Ghost leading, all Soap had to do was silently take hold on the Lieutenant's shoulder, and he would have Ghost’s undivided attention.

His face would say it all. Eyes unfocused, listening. And Ghost would listen too. But he never heard what Johnny could hear. 

And then the Sergeant would come back to him, signal, and Ghost would nod and let Johnny take point. 

All of those things were extraordinary in their own right, but Ghost kept coming back to Soap’s teeth.

Of all Soap's attributes, they were the only tangible thing Ghost could see and confirm with his own eyes. And he would be lying if he said he wasn't just a bit obsessed with them.

He wondered if they were as sharp as they looked, and how easy it would be to break skin and draw blood. If he’d even feel anything at all or if having Soap close enough to sink his fangs into Ghost’s flesh would numb him to it. 

Or maybe, he might even like the pain.

Ghost sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. The clock on the wall read two in the morning, and the report he’d wanted to finish before lights out lay on his desk before him, unfinished, mocking him, as he had descended into his daydreams.

It was no use, and the Lieutenant was tired. At least in his cot his mind was free to wander before sleep would eventually claim him. 

But now staring up at the ceiling from his cot, fighting to close his eyes and rest, all the thoughts come rushing back to him, and suddenly Ghost is hit by a thought he hadn’t yet considered. 

He can feel his heart rate quicken, a flash of heat running through his body as the realization dawns on him, only now putting all the pieces together.

Soap was something else, in a very literal sense of the term.

He wasn’t human.

So... what was he? 

[not-your-chosen]

"No worries." She smiled understandingly. Looking down at the tea menu on the counter, they looked over the small variety listed down. after thinking about trying the lemon lavender, she decided to go with something abit more safe "Can i get a hot earl grey latte with no sweetener?"

Looking up back at the man in front of her, she smiled a little at the chocolate smeared on his face still. "Were you having a tasting?"

"You still have some stuff on your face." she adds, motioning to where the chocolate smears would be on her face.

Simon scowled at Soap, grumbling under his breath as the man just ignored him and kept eating the ingredients he was using to make the last batch of cookies for the evening, chocolate smeared against the other man's lips as he mindlessly kept practicing his latte 'art'.

Just as he was about to speak up and say something about it, Soap's head jerked up as the two of them heard someone call out. "Shite, I dinna realize how long we've been back here." He muttered, pushing himself away from the table as Simon called out, "Just a sec!"

Wiping his hands on the washcloth he had, Soap went for the counter, glad that their manager, Price, wasn't there to witness the fact that there hadn't been anyone manning the front. "Welcome to the 141! Sorry about that."

[mrvampirerock]

Shawn wurde 1786 als Joaquin Murrieta während des mexikanischen Unabhängigkeitskrieges geboren. 1821 ging die 300jährige Herrschaft Spaniens über Mexiko zu Ende. Er und sein Bruder Felipe mussten schon früh ohne Eltern klar kommen. Sie hatten ihre Eltern in diesem Krieg verloren. Die Brüder waren Diebe. Haben sich mit Diebstählen und diversen Raubzügen über Wasser gehalten. Sie wurden erwischt. Felipe auf der Flucht angeschossen. Er rettete Shawn das Leben und sagte, er solle abhauen. Nach Diskussionen tat er es... sein Bruder wurde erschossen und von dem damaligen Capitan geköpft. Der Capitan hatte Köpfe gesammelt. Während seiner Trauer traf Shawn auf Elena de la Vega... sie wollte ihn als Gefährten ... und verwandelte ihn 1822 ohne Shawn wählen zu lassen. Sie wurden ein Liebespaar, wurden Eltern von zwei Söhnen, doch Elena benutze ihn nur für ihr Vergnügen. Sie genoss es, ihn manipulieren und steuern zu können, wann immer sie es wollte. Shawn war ihre ganz persönliche Marionette. Er war ihr hörig und nicht in der Lage sich dem zu entziehen. Erst als Elena ihn verließ, mit einem anderen Gefährten samt der gemeinsamen Kinder verschwand, begann sich diese Verbindung zu lösen. Shawn litt unter diesem Entzug Höllenqualen, da ihr Blut sich mit in seinem Körper befand. Unter diesem Entzug bekam er Wahnvorstellungen und begann ein regelrechtes Massaker anzurichten. Dadurch wurde Baptiste Durand - ein Urvampir und Wächter im Dienste der Vatikanstadt Rom - auf Shawn aufmerksam. Der Franzose war direkt von Shawn fasziniert. Baptiste hatte den Befehl aus Rom ihn zu töten, doch er wollte den Jungvampir heilen, verstehen und studieren. Baptiste war erfolgreich und Shawn lernte viel von ihm. Seitdem haben die Zwei eine Art Vater-Sohn-Beziehung zueinander.

Shawn bettete sich viele Jahre in seiner Gruft zur Ruhe. Nach dem Verlust seiner Söhne und der gescheiterten Beziehung mit Elena wollte er nur noch seinen Frieden. Doch die Klänge der Rockmusik seiner späteren Bandmitglieder weckten ihn auf. Shawn verließ seine Gruft und suchte seine Bandmitglieder auf um diese zu verwandeln und die Rockband TDS - The Damned Souls zu gründen. Seit vielen Jahren sind sie sehr erfolgreich auf der Welt unterwegs. Shawn traf auf einer Tour Centime in Paris. Sofort erwischte es ihn so intensiv als er sie sah, dass er es nicht wahrhaben wollte. Centime und Shawn waren anfänglich unfreundlich zueinander und auf Abstand. Sie gingen sogar getrennte Wege bis sie sich der Macht dieser Verbundenheit zueinander nicht mehr entziehen konnten. Zwischen den Beiden kam es zu einer leidenschaftlichen Liebesbeziehung, die an Intensität nicht zu übertreffen war.

Centime und Shawn hatten direkt am Anfang ihrer Beziehung mit vielen Hürden und Herausforderungen zu kämpfen. Jeder Einzelnen stellten sie sich, wurden stärker miteinander und ihre Liebe wuchs daran.

Shawn und Centime [ @pxecedm ] sind seit dem 07. August 2023 verheiratet und haben 3 gemeinsame Kinder.

El amor de mi vida ❤️🖤❤️‍🔥 @pxecedm

Merveille 🩷 geboren 16. April

Jenaro Philippe 💙 geboren 4. Dezember

Javiero Maxence 🩵 geboren 4. Dezember

Cenaquíme Cailyn 🧡 geboren 13. Januar

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[141trash]

Don’t tell me this wouldn’t be y’all if the 141 peeped on you 😂😂😂

[paranatura-verse]

The Undead of the Paranaturaverse

Very often, a soul is either unable to find its way to the Spirit Realm, or is pulled back to life.

Ghosts are the most common occurrence of this. Found worldwide, many ghosts take up residence in the place they were buried or their former abode, although some haunt places of significance to them in life. Some have the ability to make themselves visible or invisible at will, whilst others are permanently invisible. Some ghosts are openly antagonistic, attempting to frighten or hurt living folk on their territory, whilst others wish to live peacefully.

Ghouls (often incorrectly nicknamed "zombies") are a less common form of undead. Typically a result of a body buried too close to polluted water or in contaminated soil, ghouls mostly roam cemeteries and other burial sites, eating corpses and small animals or birds. Slow-moving and easily killed with a heavy blow to the skull, although their bite is infectious the contamination rarely spreads as they tend to eat anyone they're able to bite. One pack of ghouls, in the abandoned town of Holloway, was created by an extraterrestrial pathogen.

Sahs are an extremely rare variety of undead being, found only in Egypt. They are created by their heart being incorrectly removed during mummification, resulting in the soul being unable to cross into the Duat. Despite their lack of organs they are fully capable of speech, movement and thought. Only a handful of sahs have ever been documented, with most driven mad from being locked in their tombs. Able to be killed permanently via impalement or a broken neck, some were destroyed by tomb raiders whilst others escaped and had to be destroyed by soldiers.

[inspofromancientworld]

Legendary Creatures: Ghosts

A belief in a spirit or soul that exists after a person or animal dies goes back as far as the written record and likely has origins in prehistory. Funerary practices seem to indicate a belief in the continuation of life by burying a person with objects that were used in daily life as well as practices like ritual feeding or clothing of ancestors. Since the belief in a continuation of some kind after death exists in so many cultures, we know that this belief goes far back in human history, perhaps even before modern humans expanded out of Africa. Many experts think that the awareness of mortality gave rise to a belief that some part of humans continues beyond death.

In cultures that didn't develop writing, or those whose written history was destroyed by colonizers, it's difficult to know what they believed about ghosts, spirits, or what happened to a person after death. We rely on more modern records by people who might view them as 'exotic' or might genuinely respect them and more recently by the people themselves. With that in mind, let us explore what we know about what people thought about ghosts in antiquity around the world.

Africa:

Among the Igbo people, man is both physical and spiritual in nature and the spiritual is eternal. The Akan see humans as having five parts, the Nipadua (body), Okra (soul), Sunsum (spirit), Ntoro (character from the father), and Mogya (character from the mother).

By Shyamal - Own work, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=5710972

The most well known in Africa is likely the Ancient Egyptian mythology because they wrote down their belief systems. They believed that a person was made of eight parts, the Khet (physical body), the Sah (spiritual body), Ren (name/identity), Ba (personality), Ka (double/vital essence), Ib (heart), Shuyet (shadow), Sekhem (power/form). The collective name for the spirit of a dead person once they entered the afterlife is the Akh. This idea was likely well developed early in the Old Kingdom (2700-2200 BCE). One of the ceremonies performed by priests after death, which was thought to happen when the Ka left the body, was to open a person's mouth to release the Ba to join the Ka, which creates the ꜣḫ (akh).

The afterlife was thought to be like the the mortal life but more resembling the journey of the Sun as it descended into Duat (underworld), meeting the mummified body of Osiris. Often, the mummified body was addressed as 'Osiris'. The ba, depicted as a featureless shadow as it left the body at dawn, would go about its work during the day and return to the body at night, as they believed the Sun returned to Osiris at night. Those who completed some form of quest or task were thought to become stars. The Book of the Dead, which was called the Book of Going Forth by Day by the Ancient Egyptians laid out how to avoid a second, permanent death. As written in the tomb of Nekhen of the Eighteenth Dynasty had written on his tomb as translated by James Peter Allen, American Egyptologist, 'Your life happening again, without your ba being kept away from your divine corpse, with your ba being together with the akh … You shall emerge each day and return each evening. A lamp will be lit for you in the night until the sunlight shines forth on your breast. You shall be told: "Welcome, welcome, into this your house of the living'.

During the Twentieth Dynasty (1189-1077 BCE), the idea of a roaming ghost, which could cause nightmares, guilt, or illness, began to be recorded. These arose when tombs weren't taken care of by prayers and offerings. The ghost could also be asked for benefits or to inflict punishments by making specific prayers and offerings.

As other areas of Africa didn't really have written records that we can decipher or find today, it's difficult to know what was the difference between gods and ghosts.

Mesopotamia:

Ghosts of the dead were known as gidim (𒄇) in Sumer, which became eṭemmu in Akkad. This word means something like gig (to be sick) and dim (a demon) or maybe gi (black) and dim (to approach). Sumerian is an agglutinative language, so different syllables can mean different things and were written differently and could be written differently when they were joined together and their endings were changed.

By Gennadii Saus i Segura - Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=126738193

The memory and personality of the person went into the gidim, which was created at the death of the person, which then went to the Irkalla, the underworld and realm of Ereshkigal (𒀭𒊩𒌆𒆠𒃲), 'Queen of the Great Earth', goddess of the underworld with her husband Nergal (𒀭𒄊𒀕𒃲). To reach Irkalla and Anunnaki (𒀭𒀀𒉣𒈾), the gods of judgment who gave the laws of the dead and assigned fates to the dead. In addition to this, the sun god Utu would visit the neatherworld nightly and punish those who harassed the living and share offerings with the forgotten.

Offerings to dead relatives of food and drink by surviving family was said to comfort the dead. The forgotten would suffer and be able to cause physical and mental illnesses on their relatives who don't remember them if there are relatives that remain. Those who died in ways that their body was unrecoverable would have no ghost.

China:

By Unknown artist, Ming Dynasty - http://www.鹿山會館.tw/EastCapital/viewthread.php?tid=419&sid=ZzXrihhttp://www.shanximuseum.com/collect/topic/shuiluhua.html, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=138953197

Among the Chinese, with the widespread culture of ancestor worship, they believed that ancestors could be reached through a medium for aid in many areas of life. The still celebrated Hungry Ghost Festival (Zhongyuan Festival in Taoism, Yulanpen Festival in Buddhism) is also a part of ancestor worship as it's believed that on the day of the festival, spirits are able to cross from the underworld to the mortal world. Ghosts in Chinese cultures have many terms, generally related to guǐ (鬼 in Mandarin) such as guilao (鬼佬) for a ghost man, which is used as a pejorative for foreigners. Even nightmare (魇 yǎn) is related to the idea of ghosts.

Part of the belief encompassed in ancestor worship is the concept of the spirit being comprised of yin and yang, which was called hun (魂) and po (魄). Po, the yin component, is related to the grave and hun, the yang component, is related to ancestral tablet. When the person dies, the spirit divides into three, the po component remaining with the grave, the hun component going to the ancestral tablet, and the third component goes to judgment. The hun and po components can only survive as long as they are remembered and nourished. Eventually, the hun and po move on to the underworld, a neutral place, though the hun visits heaven first. Chinese ghosts are able to affect the mortal world, even to the point of murdered people could exact revenge on those who killed them.

Taoism became the majority religion during the Han dynasty (206 BCE- 220 CE) and Buddhism during the Tang Dynasty (681-197 CE). For a long time, these two belief systems were accepted together, syncretism (the mingling of beliefs) leading to a more complex system of beliefs with the ancestor worship of Taoism and traditional Chinese religion blending together with the belief in reincarnation found in Buddhism to create something unique with ten types of ghosts, one of which, the hungry ghosts (饿鬼, èguǐ), can be further divided into nine types.

Mediums were called mun mai poh (simplified 問米, traditional 問覡) which means 'ask rice woman' and is a pun for 'spirit medium' with different inflections. because the people coming to her would bring a cup of rice from their home so the ghosts could find and identify their family members. The medium helps to find out what the ancestor needs for the family's request (winning the lottery or getting into government housing). These needs are then burnt as paper effigies.

Japan:

By Sawaki Suushi (佐脇��之, Japanese, *1707, †1772) - scanned from ISBN 4-3360-4187-3., Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=5510196

Japan's concept of a spirit or a soul is called a reikan (霊魂) that enters a holding place until they recieve a proper funeral and funerary rites so they can then join their ancestors. Those who are murdered, die of suicide, don't have a proper burial, or are consumed by revenge, love, jealousy, hatred, or sorrow, the reikan becomes a yuurei (幽霊 meaning faint or dim soul or spirit), which can interact with the physical world if they are fueled by strong enough emotion. These spirits remain until proper rites are performed for them or they are able to resolve their emotional issue. The yuurei tend to haunt only at the 'midtime of the hours of the Ox', which is 2:00-2:30am and tend to be bound to certain locations.

Another type of ghost, one who had stronger emotions and are capable to causing physical harm in the mortal world, is the onryou (怨霊) which means 'vengeful spirit' (alternately wrathful, hatred, resentful, ruthless, envious, dark, fallen, or downcast). There are three notable people who became onryou so revered that they became known as the Three Great Onryou of Japan (日本三大怨霊), Emperor Sutoku (July 7,1119-September 14,1164), Taira no Masakado (early 900s-March 25, 940), and Sugawara no Michizane (August 1, 845-March 26, 903) who reportedly caused a lot of death and destruction after their deaths because of the resentment and anger they died with. They were elevated to kami (gods) and a Shinto shrine in an effort to appease them.

India:

By Roboture - Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=18747046

In India, the Sanscrit word bhoota (भूत) usually referred a to the ghost of a deceased person. Exactly what they are, though, varies by region, community, and time period. They are usually seen as those who were too hung up on something that keeps them from moving on through to the next phase in existence, which also varies by tradition. The belief in bhootas is an important and deeply ingrained part of the culture of the Indian subcontinent

Bhootas avoid touching the earth because the earth is held to be either sacred or semi-sacred, have feet that face backwards, are able to shape-shift though they tend to be human shaped most of the time, cast no shadows, and speak with a 'nasal twang'. There are some bhoota that haunt houses, which then become 'bhoot bangalas' (bhoot bungalows), usually where they died or are emotionally attached to. Stories with bhootas in them tend to select the traits to create the most suspense. Bhootas are capable of haunting milk, to the point of seeking it out. If someone drinks that milk, they can become possessed, which is another frequently used trope in the stories.

To protect themselves, people could use water, iron, or steel at hand since bhoota fear these things, as well as the scent of brunt tumeric, the fibers of an herb called bhutkeshi (bhoota's hair), holy figures, and the sprinkling of dirt.

Kingdom of Israel and Judah and diaspora:

By Ephraim Moses Lilien (1874–1925) - Book of Job, appearing in Die Bucher Der Bibel, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=19447366

In the Hebrew Bible, there is a type of ghost called the owb (אוֹב) that's mentioned a few places. It relates to both mediums, with their connection to the dead and necromancy, such as when King Saul consults with the Witch of Endor to summon the spirt of Samuel, the prophet. Other places, it relates to shades, the spirits of those in the underworld.

In Jewish mythology and folklore, there is another type of ghost, that called in Yiddish a dybbuk (דיבוק), which comes from the Hebrew verb dāḇaq (דָּבַק), which means 'to cling' or 'to adhere'. These spirits are believed able to possess someone and to be the soul of a dead person. This type of ghost is first written of in the 16th century. The mezuzah (מְזוּזָה a specially inscribed parchment kept at doorways) is supposed to protect against dybbuk, a well hung one actually preventing a dybbuk from forming.

Greece:

By Eumenides Painter - User:Bibi Saint-Pol, own work, 2007-07-21, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=2453109

The ancient Greeks viewed ghosts 'as a vapor, gibbering and whining into the earth' as Homer wrote in the Odyssey and Iliad in the 8th century BCE. By the 5th century BCE, in classical Greece, ghost became something that could haunt people or places, for either good or ill, and were capable of interacting with the mortal world. They also performed ceremonies and sacrifices, including the pouring out of drinks, to make sure the spirits of the dead, which they viewed as shades, would not return to haunt their families. Shades (σκιά) were usually the spirit of the dead in the underworld and could be speak through oracles and could have divinity confirmed on them, like the Oracle of Ammon did to Hephastion, 'by far the dearest of all the king's friends' when Alexander the Great was 'inconsolable' after he died.

Rome:

By Henry Justice Ford - http://www.postershowcase.info/i1862812.html, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=11733112

Ancient Romans saw ghosts as a method of revenge by way of a curse being written on pottery or lead placed in a grave. They believed that ghosts could haunt locations, such as when Pliny the Younger wrote around 50 CE about the Stoic Athenodorus (who lived 100 years earlier) renting a house in Athens that was haunted. He deliberately sat up writing late. He saw a ghost wrapped in chains, which he then followed outside until the ghost pointed out a particular site. Athenodorus excavated the location and found a skeleton bound in chains. Once the skeleton was buried properly, the haunting ended.

One of the first skeptics to write their lack of belief was Lucian of Samosata, who wrote in the 2nd century CE. He wrote about Democritus (who lived about three hundred years earlier) lived outside the city of Abdera in Thrace deliberately to prove that ghosts didn't exist, even in the face of practical jokes, such as the young men of the city dressing up in 'black robes with skull masks'.

Central America:

By Vassil - Own work, CC0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=17841631

Aztecs believed that after death the soul moved on to one of three places, Tlālōcān (a Paradise reigned over by the rain deity Tlāloc), Mictlān (where the dead travel with Xolotl through nine levels, passing several challenges) and the Sun. Fallen warriors and women who died in childbirth became hummingbirds.

The Maya believed in a pair of collective ancestors, the '(grand)fathers and (grand)mothers' which inhabited particular mountains where offerings were meant to be given.

The Purépecha believed that monarch butterflies symbolized the movements of the dead to their afterlife as they migrated to their winter habitat in what is now Michoacán, near where they lived. Theyalso had a story of the ghosts of a princess Mintzita and her fiancé go to a particular cemetary every Noche de Muertos as the Spanish called it. On that night, now, people float candles on Lake Pátzcuaro as well as others. Michoacán is even now called el alma de Mexicho (the soul of Mexico).