#ignore the sparrow that doesn't match

[youcantdateosmosisjones]

spreaver thoughts... so many of them i headcanon that sparrow had to have gotten some weird psychosexual issues from their time in the spire, because there's no sane person in albion who would willfully sleep with reaver just for the fun of it. they aren't nearly naive or ignorant enough to not see his manipulation. they're not stupid enough to fall for his schemes, either. they'd have to be getting something out of it, wouldn't they? and for reaver of all people to itch that particular scratch, it's gotta be something weird. the stubbornness, the push and pull, and both of them too prideful to back down from the challenge the other poses. for one, the unbreakable refusal to submit completely, and for the other, the constant resistance of temptation. it breaks the tradition they're both used to. and with lives as long and repetitive as theirs, that's kind of refreshing. a constant work out for the ego. they're too different to ever truly see eye-to-eye, so it's easy to stay as they are. a shadow of the other. opposites. someone who can handle you taking out your frustration on them, and you won't feel anything about it. makes it easy to have "no-strings-attached"- or at least convince themselves of that, but the heroic link is the defining factor that makes the dynamic itself intriguing. few others match their 'refuse to quit' energy, and few others feed off of challenges just as they do. they can't win over the other, no matter how much they'd try. it's addicting. push and pull. but whatever they have is entertaining enough to last, apparently. gets them out of the monotonous boredom/responsibilities of life. where little else gives the same thrills, guaranteed satisfaction goes a long way. plus, respective ambition and manipulation go well together, if your thing is taking turns playing cat-and-mouse. -but I often think about the end of it, more than I do the rest of it. it's easy for sparrow to get swept up in the future, finally letting go of the thrills of their youth. soon as there's no reason to dwell, reaver carries on like he always does. the ties have been severed, and it's easy to let go. what sparrow provided fizzled into history, and they faded back into unimportance. they die, like thousands have before, and the world keeps turning. but the one thing that stick with him is the thrill. the excitement that was real, if just for a moment. he will never hold onto people, or deep emotions. but he will remember the fleeting feeling of being engaged with living. some part of him has been chasing that feeling for centuries... and even corrupted and twisted, he found the closest thing to that again. maybe the person matters, maybe it doesn't. but all I know is that two people- equals- were able to give each other what they wanted like no one else could: the pleasure that came with their more youthful years. In the only way two broken, utterly mad people can.

[guiltreservoir]

in spite of the way that it is ✧ read on ao3

⫘⫘⫘

when buck first brings it up, it's to everyone in the 118, or at least anyone who's willing to lend an ear. he saunters into the kitchen with a smile bright enough to account for the unseasonably grey weather outside, megawatt-beam elation radiating off of his body and bouncing into every corner of the station. the minute he starts blabbing about how tommy came to his place late last night, at least two ears are swiftly discounted — chim walks away with his hands firmly clapped over the sides of his head, saying, "la la la, don't want to hear it," much like a petulant kindergartener.

bobby finds himself suddenly very busy with noisily reorganizing the utensil drawer, but doesn't quite leave the area; hen immediately raises her brows and takes a pointed sip of her orange juice, knowing buck will continue unprompted. ravi, just coming up the stairs himself, has no idea what he's walking into, the poor guy.

and eddie — eddie knows better than to involve himself in this. he could easily extract himself now, fake a phone call with christopher's school, pretend like there's something imperative that he left in the locker room. instead, he remains parked at the table, piping mug of black coffee insisting that he needs mo' joe as it sits untouched in front of him. his own uncertain reflection stares back at him from the coffee's dark surface.

"i think i finally found someone who can match me," buck's declaring, cheeky grin still lighting up his face like a marquee sign. eddie can practically see the colorful bulbs flashing above his head, a giant neon arrow and the brazen announcement: this lucky guy got his brains fucked out last night!!

"bless that man," hen snorts, shaking her head a bit. ravi's brows knit together in confusion, and when he asks for details on what buck's referring to in the first place, hen's head shaking deepens. "ignorance is bliss, ravi, you probably don't want to know."

"buck got laid last night," falls out of eddie's mouth without him meaning to let it, and fuck, he hopes it sounded more casual than it felt, bubbling up his esophagus like bitter-hot bile.

ravi's, "...and?" is reassuring. eddie feigns a laugh, relieved his cover isn't blown. he glimpses at buck, whose gigantic smile hasn't faltered for even a millisecond, and ignores the mass of earthworms writhing beneath the tin lid of his breastbone.

"and it was seriously awesome!" buck pumps his fist into the air, triumphant and ridiculous, sunbeam personified, and god. buck may be the one getting railed into his mattress by his new boyfriend, but eddie is the one who's truly fucked.

⫘⫘⫘

when buck has eddie over for drinks at his place the next night and asks him if he wants to hear more about it, he convinces himself it's a fine idea. how much can really go wrong, anyway? it's just the man who cradles eddie's whole cowardly lion heart in his unknowing palms, telling him about the way that eddie's good, kind, unbearably hot friend fucked him so tenderly he cried.

it's fine. everything is fine.

buck's never been one to spare details, especially not when eddie allows him all of the space and time in the world to lay out how he got laid. the nearly-gone beer in his hand (on his lips, on his tongue, on the collar of his shirt where an errant drop landed) is fuel for his fire, rattling the confines of his inhibitions just enough to knock a few loose, get him spilling details like the belgian white down his throat.

"he was really good, eddie." the glint in buck's eye is evidence enough, but eddie wants more; he's curious, to a detrimental degree, a tabby cat scaling a tree to catch a sparrow whose wings will carry it to safety, leaving him hungry and without the knowledge of how to climb back down to level ground.

"yeah?" he presses, like he needs to.

"yeah," buck continues. the next pull he takes from his bottle is long, slow, draining it empty. eddie's eyes track the movement, the pink curl of his mouth over the bottle's rim, the wet flick of his tongue across the cusp, the bob of his adam's apple as he swallows the dredges. "it was like he could just... tell what i needed."

eddie's stomach drops. he blames the beer. his mind offers, silently, i would know what you needed, too.

he blames the beer.

"he made sure to take it slow, to start. he's— he's not a small guy, you know."

flashes of tommy's sweat-slick skin offer themselves up readily in the eye of eddie's mind. all thanks to their sparring during muay thai, he knows how it feels to be pinned beneath that man, to feel the heft of his strong arms and legs and chest against his own, to feel so utterly surrounded. he can only imagine what it's like to have tommy inside, too. he says, rougher than he means to, "i know."

buck clears his throat, ducks his head. when he meets eddie's eyes again, his cheeks are flushed. "i... i don't have to tell you about this, man. maybe it's too much. i mean, he's your close friend."

"you're my close friend," eddie says thoughtlessly.

the expression that settles on buck's features is complicated, to say the least.

"buck, i told you it's okay. you can tell me whatever you're comfortable with me knowing." eddie's can of worms burst opened wriggles and squirms, a slimy tangle mucking up his chest cavity. he catches and clings onto buck's gaze and adds, unequivocal, "i'll tell you if i want you to stop."

if buck's face wasn't already rosy, it would be now. his mouth falls open before his response catches up to him, and the spit-glint of his bottom teeth against his tongue makes eddie grit his own together, lest he say something he shouldn't.

"are you sure?" buck asks, back turning to eddie while he reaches into the fridge behind him for a third round. when he turns around again he's got two cold bottles in his hands, tilting one towards eddie, an offering that eddie accepts as automatic as breathing.

the fizzzzz-clink of buck popping the beercaps punctuates eddie's answering, "yes."

"alright." another generous swig of buck's drink bolsters his nerve. "i didn't think he was gonna fit at first, eddie. i swear to you, it doesn't seem like it should work. it's not like i haven't had anything up my ass before, i mean, tommy's even been warming me up for the real thing. but."

warming him up, jesus. buck's nonchalance is staggering, even when frankly, this isn't even the first time eddie's been confronted with such imagery. he wishes he could forget buck telling him about the times taylor had used her strap with him. not because it wasn't an appealing thought — eddie might have complex emotions around taylor, but the idea of buck getting dicked down by anyone at all has always been one that twists his guts into feverish knots. hence the desire for selective amnesia.

he fails not to wonder exactly what the thick line of tommy's dick would look like snuggled between the cleft of buck's asscheeks and swirls his beer in its bottle before knocking back a good-sized gulp, saying, "i'm guessing you made it work eventually."

because how the fuck else is he supposed to react while he's busy painting a vivid mural of his two 'close friends' fucking on the ceiling of his overenthusiastic imagination? he might as well be michelangelo with the way he's filling in the blanks with such inspiration.

the sputtering laugh that comes from buck has no right being as charming as it is. "he did indeed get his dick inside of me, yeah, great job putting those pieces together."

"thanks, it was difficult."

"i bet," buck responds. his gaze separates from eddie's and drifts down the length of his torso, catching on the steady rise and fall of the breaths expanding his chest before continuing down his past his bellybutton. he focuses just below eddie's belt before skimming back up to peer into his eyes again. "he took his time getting me ready with his fingers, and even still i felt like he was gonna split me in half. he got maybe halfway inside and i was already seeing stars. thankfully he kinda paused and gave me a second to adjust."

"come on, man." eddie's heartbeat threshes his ribcage and echoes all the way up to his eardrums, frantic and heady, bass drum kicking a chaotic rhythm. he can't help but imagine tommy's big, surprisingly gentle hands working buck open before slicking himself up with lube to nudge inside. he wonders if it made buck gasp, if he cursed and clenched at the blunt shock and slow push and steady tilt of tommy's hips. he wonders if tommy's got claw marks on him somewhere from buck scrabbling for purchase while curling his toes and communicating without words that he needed a minute.

"too much?" the way buck's half-mast eyes glitter reminds eddie of a tiger slinking low through moonlight silver-soaked grasses. all at once he can sympathize with the position of a lone antelope lurking just beyond through the open plains, vulnerable and enticing.

he perks his ears forward, tilts his head down, looking into the eyes of the beast who's about to consume him, and says, "no."

the antelope places its fragile skull straight into the tiger's hanging maw.

⫘⫘⫘

when eddie makes it through the next couple of days without jerking off about it, he considers himself victorious. he's been doing a fine job of distracting himself, hanging out with his girlfriend, his kid. he's been reading before he falls asleep to keep his mind from wandering too far. he's been working out more, burning off the extra energy that's been vibrating through his entire nervous system since buck drenched his subconscious — and his conscious mind, who is he kidding — with the most luscious, arousing descriptions of sex he's ever heard.

he's doing fine, until he's leaving the station with buck after a long shift and tommy's there to pick him up. he's standing outside of his buck's jeep, conveniently parked next to eddie's truck, eyes crinkly with delight at the sight of them. his voice carries through the atmosphere and shudders straight down into eddie's molten core, a simple and swift, "evan! eddie."

"hi, tommy," eddie says at the same time that buck says, "hey, babe!"

evan.

babe.

eddie is going to dissolve into a cloud of nebulous vapor.

he autopilots his way through the rest of their short conversation, ears buzzing with static, cottonmouth setting in. he doesn't pay attention to the small talk, mind too busy reeling with potential. the moment he'd caught sight of buck's jeep, he was a goner.

where is tommy's car? did he stay the night at buck's, hang out at his place for the day just waiting to come play chauffeur and take him back home to pound him into the mattress while kissing him deep and lazy, like his lips are laden with ambrosia?

"catch you later, eddie," he hears tommy say over the ringing in his ears. buck knocks shoulders with him and nods agreeably, lashes fluttering and lips stretching into a pretty smile.

the best eddie can manage in response is a pathetic wave and a half-hearted, "bye, guys."

his drive home is thirty-six minutes too long. he relinquishes his willpower and allows the fog of his daydreams to creep in.

"tommy called me a good boy when he finally bottomed out," buck had told him around a drawn-out exhale, hops heavy on his breath, steaming the air between their faces. somewhere between the third and fourth beer the space between them had collapsed, eddie backed against the kitchen counter and buck looming over him, cool and collected and beautiful and dangerous, striped wildcat on the hunt.

"he told me how incredible it felt inside me, how i was all warm and tight. and god, eddie, you don't understand how crazy it felt. it was so much, but in the best way. it was warm and tight for me, too."

that's when eddie had spooked and bolted, yanking free from within the loose gape of buck's tiger fangs and nicking himself on jagged ivory edges. worms clustered and crawled up from his chest and into his throat as he stumbled away, wounded and wet. he'd choked out, "i can't," and buck had backed off without hesitation, no longer a fierce big cat but a helpless cub, saying, sorry and low, "i know, i know, i should've stopped sooner."

⫘⫘⫘

when eddie finally gets his hand around his dick, it's nearly enough to make him cry. the bittersweet reprieve of it, the way he's been craving his own attention while being even better at withholding it from himself — there's practically nothing he's more practiced at, but just because it comes fairly naturally to him at this point doesn't mean it is painless.

he sinks into a different brand of masochism found in the inviting expanse of his mattress, world narrowed down to the sensation of his slippery grip around his blood-rushed cock, to the white-hot fantasies splaying themselves out in the darkest meadows of his mind, absolutely resplendent. he tries to make his hand feel warm, tight, incredible, like buck's soft aching insides; he speculates whether or not tommy would talk to him like that, if they were to hook up. would he qualify as good, in tommy's eyes?

with barely a second thought, he brings his free hand down to play between his asscheeks, knuckle ghosting across the delicate skin of his hole. tommy's fingers are bigger than his, tommy's bigger all around. a moan wrenches itself free as he swipes up some lube from where it's dripping down his balls and presses a fingertip inside.

eddie's pace picks up along with his breathing, chest heaving like he's been running for hours, days, years. maybe he has been. maybe he still is.

"fuck," he grits out, rolling his hips up into his hand. his mind is playing through scenes of buck opening up for tommy, tommy so careful and confident, scenes of buck wrapping his limbs around him to draw him as close and deep as he can get, buck so open and wanting. buck, such a fucking good boy.

eddie's orgasm shreds through him gut to throat like the sharp starving blade of a hunter, come spattering across his stomach, stickying his fist.

there are real tears streaking down his cheeks, now, damp and unrelenting, a mix of relief and guilt and something else he can't figure out a name for.

he jams the heels of his hands against his eye sockets and thinks, i know, i know, i should've stopped sooner.

[ridreamir]

Ignoring the Netflix Canon when I feel like it (Crack Reader Insert Post)

[Mild Umbrella Academy Spoilers!]

Hello and welcome to the Umbrella Academy! The....Sparrow Academy...? Oh wait no, wrong one. It says here you're a part of the bullshit academy. Yayyyyy!!! You're special! You have a superpower! Now....

Imagine being ruthlessly stalked by the biggest nightmare of a Commission Assassin only to find out that it's:

A: Alternate universe 5. Wearing a mask. B: Someone Commission Founder 5 planned to send after you. C: All the above. And a secret third option.

He's trying to fucking kill you, which is why it's all the more surprising when he cocks a gun at you and shoots one bullet, only for it to sail right past your head. Why he purposely missed eludes you, but haunts you for many days and nights. Then, the apocalypse hits. You just narrowly escape with your life. Thanks to your 'power', you're privy to obscure knowledge. Knowledge no one in this multiverse should have about its history, inter-workings, and potential future outcomes.

Good thing you're practically the most useless idiot on the planet aside from that, because wow. Talk about multiversal anomaly threat.

(Hey, you show that you could have been capable of intelligent thought! Had you been raised properly. News flash: YOU WEREN'T.) So now you're cozy in your little New Yurk apartment which doesn't cost a billion francs per month because that's a different timeline. Isn't this lovely? Isn't world peace amazing? It's too bad, really, that you live next to gay and gayer. And bitch. Brothers, Viktor, Klaus, and Ben. They're fine enough, really, if not for the screaming matches fuck boy Viktor gets into with his multiple gfs on a daily basis and the sheer amount of drug dust that wafts in every time Klaus even breathes in your direction. They're normal. Just a couple of young adults trying to make it in the big city after presumably running away from daddy. (Mid 20s?)

That's... right. You see, you recognize these three. You haven't seen the others around yet, nor is there any guarantee that they even still live in this city anymore, but after the last 'pocalypse you sneezed yourself out of, you landed yourself here, right in the heart of it all. Why? Because they're your brothers.

In this timeline, Canada won back in 1812. Ooooooh. Bummer.

See, none of this would be a problem, if not for the sudden appearance of a highly intoxicated and mildly injured smelly boy man on your couch. He's sobbing. He just shot at you the last timeline ago!!! "Auuuuggghhhh uhuhu, waaahhhh!!!!" He cries under the mask. "Why'd you fuck up our timeline(s) *hic*, now I have to uhuhu~~ Kill youuuuuuaaaaa aaaaaaaawhuhu!!~~"

That's right! After isekai'ing into a near identical Umbrella Academy to that of the hit Netfix show of the same name, you were nearly forced to grow up just as traumatized as the rest of your seven pseudo siblings as you recovered your memories and sense of identity! Then your 'brother' went on to go found the fucking same corporation that wants to kill you! And now he's pretending he's a field agent when he's really the fucking founder!

"I don't wanna do it, Eight! I don't want to have to, to huurrrrtt youuuuu aaaaawwwhuhuhu!!~~" He sniffles, ripping off the mask. "Just... just stay with me, okay? Just, we'll hide you in the thirty sixth floor of my tower just, just staawwpp running uhuhuuuuuuuuu!!!~~~~"

Well this is news to you that he actually has some semblance of care for you, actually. When the little bitch is sober he's usually trying to lodge a bullet in your skull! Or apparently only pretending to. Reginald. What in the fucking world did you do to this man(baby). Why is he acting like this. He's usually so terrible and cold and uncaring and not nice (and smart) but right now he's absolutely fucking pathetic! You know you're in deep shit when a tentacle bursts through your wall. "Hey!!" Ben yells, not having any concept that this is his brother 5 that died on a mission when they were children. "Shut that frignart up, fuckshit!"

Ah yes. Gen kthulu slang.

"Aww is that habibi? Tell 'em I said hii~" "Fuck you." Ben hisses at Klaus.

When Five starts to dry heave on your couch from choking on his own crying, you know you have a problem.

Dear god. Please let the next universe be normal.

[t4tklonoa]

you're one of the most based coroika fans ive ever seen . What are your thoughts on (and hcs for maybe?) the best 8

Thank u v much!!! I try my best.......

AND. I absolutely love the best 8 I think they are so silly. the designs are super cool (even if they ar just the promo kids) and their personalities are v distinctive and fun

although I think the group is alitttlle too big ? and I miss the side characters that are part of the teams getting at least a little spotlight like with Avi (I only rll hav this problem with the hierarchy). I am not asking that every side character gets one but at least one or two since the important teams are doubled would be nice. and from the looks of it (slight spoilers for chapter 75) Wire doesn't have a v important connection to any of his teammates.... BUT also it's v early to determine if any side characters will get more attention ! so u can tots just ignore this part (also buzz glasses and polpo may be the lucky ones since they appear alot with their captains)

also headcanons under cut bc I'm supppper normal abt the coroikers and hav one million headcanons ^^ (also haven't been able to read the most recent inkling almanac. some hc's may make no sense considering the new info)

MITSU !!!

It is so genderqueer ur honor. slaps she/it pronouns on her

she grew up along Kojake they are siblings... Mitsu and Kojake developed their own kind of sign language to communicate, it's v bare bones but they are living their best life out there man

I refuse to believe it collects junk as a hobby only. Poor thang doesn't have a house it lives in junk yards with Kojake

not a headcanon but she's so cool. wow

HORNMET !!!

TRANSFEM ! she has facial hair and rll enjoys showing it off

has a crush on Mitsu maybe? maybe you'll never know (she does she is alesbian)

looooves collecting rocks and sharp things

girl who bites

BARRELEYE !!!

considers all of his teammates as family :]

ABSOLUTELY. loves Polpo to death he's always talking abt how great his punk rock sis is the best

has a huge scar that goes thru his face. why? he fell off the stairs when he was little and landed on smth sharp

one million neos but orange's fav one is pop/popself

SHELLMET !!!

transfem also. she is besties with Hornmet

autism stares at u forever. also chronic :3 face

rll good at anarchy, especially clam blitz (SOMEHOW)

she's the oldest out of the best 8, due to this all her teammates are younger than her, they are all little siblings 2 her

she met her teammates when she randomly matched with them for a clam blitz round. they were rll struggling so she was like 'y'know what. I could help u get better ar this mode!' and then she adopted them

SHADY !!!

the most nonbinary to ever nonbinary. uses they/it/ika

Also autism stares at u forever. when ika met shellmet for the first time it was like !!!

missing a fang, got in a nasty fight to defend Flannel (they get bullied :( )

8 BIT !!!

exgender !!! goes by it/its and lots of neos (also goes by dynamo/dynamoself like Rider in my headcanons so they both get v confused when ppl refer to them and they are like. in the same room)

Also goes by many names ! Blaze and Flame are it's fav ones besides 8 bit

chronic fatigue, scorch is always drinking energy drinks

has a weird friendship with trisun... they talk nonstop for some months and then for some months they don't talk 2 eachother.

thang who bites

is rll into art and crafts, doesn't get the opportunity to do stuffies often but it rll loves its hobby (also boom encountered Goggles once in an art and crafts club once. boom was so akward abt it lol)

OCHO !!!

Hemigirl ! goes by he/they/bird/sparrow

has a special interests in birds, owns one million pet birds (rich kid) he loves them all tho (I have to get around to deciding their names and species ough).

had a crush on trisun but now he doesn't know how they feel abt xem (it was v one sided, Ocho barely talked to trisun. later on I think they would b qpps tho!)

doesn't have friends. has been like that their entire life... till bird met Wire ! kinda. he rll wants to get closer to them but Wire is a complex individual and Ocho has no idea how to socialize

WIRE !!!! (get ready for my autism)

nonbinary swagger. they/them

they are mute !!

fast learner, really flexible. they play many different weapons but prefer playing as support most of the time

was trained by shellmet for a bit, developed a huge ego due to this. they think they could've made it as far as they did without shellmet, bc why did they surpass her (lie they believ. they are both as strong) if they aren't just. naturally talented amIright ? (they have problems)

owns aloooot of bracelets. including chewy ones bc they rll enjoy chewing on stuff.

constantly chewing or licking their lips and fingers, they hav alot of scars around their mouth, on their lips and fingers due to this

thang who bites (u)

they have a pet Sparrow (that's how they and Ocho met) and a pet sea slug (Yellow edged polycera)

(chapter 75 kinda spoilers for tha next headcanons)

they and their team have known eachother for most of their life (paralleling blue team!) they are not the same age tho. (buzzcut is the oldest, Wire and punk are middle and the youngest is double-bun) ALSO. they all know ASL

punk does a lot of the talking for them if the ppl they are hanging out with don't know ASL or Wire is too tired to sign (punk knows Wire v well so they can tell most of the time basic stuff Wire wants to say)

[yeli-renrong]

According to Coupe 2020, Northern Sangtam has /tʙ̥ nm/, as in the following examples:

tʙ̥āŋ 'needle'

tʙ̥ʌ̀ 'fence'

tsútʙ̥ū-ɹʌ̄ 'relative-ANMLZ'

léktʙ̥ʰīŋ 'bat'

tʙ̥ʰék 'cut by placing a blade on flesh and making a long straight incision'

kʰítʙā 'hip joint'

lītʙʰʌ̀ 'arrow'

nàŋtʙ̥ìŋ 'deaf'

tʙ̥ʰāŋ 'drum'

kūtʙ̥úk 'grey'

kʰítʙ̥á̰k 'groin'

síŋ-tʙ̥ák 'plank (wood-flat)'

nmʌ̄tʃʌ̀-pà 'forget'

à-nmʌ̄ 'body hair'

à-nmʌ̀ 'spirit/soul'

More from the data, not mentioned in the paper itself:

tʙ̥ʌ̀ 'be relieved'

tʙ̥ʰʌ̀ 'unkempt'

tʙ̥ʰʎ 'plate'

ātʙ̥á 'mother'

àtʙ̥ʰíŋ 'fin'

There's also a dictionary, but the signup gate is obnoxiously heavy, by which I mean I don't have a burner phone and don't give websites real data. Thankfully, there's STEDT:

anbü atsa 'fine hair'

chomilatpü 'widower'

anilatpü 'sister (younger)'

anüyotpü 'bride'

apülatpü 'sister (elder)'

atpa 'mother'

atpachi 'quiet'

amtpo 'hair (of body)'

ketphü-uza 'sparrow'

nangtping 'deaf'

nitpü 'wife'

nitpü-khyo 'married'

tpha 'pull'

tphüting 'naked'

tpü 'fence'

tpü 'garden'

tsulatpü 'daughter'

anbü 'soul, spirit'

nbüchü 'forget'

nbükhüm 'shadow'

(The first two words are from Kumar; the rest are from Marrison. Words like tpü 'fence', nbüchü 'forget', and tphang 'drum' confirm the reading of <tp tph nb> as /tʙ̥ tʙ̥ nm/.)

Where are these consonants from? Bruhn 2014 reconstructs *p(j)aŋ 'deaf' and *a-pjak 'flat', suggesting *pj > *pt > *tp > tʙ̥ for nàngtpìng and -tpák - and Bruhn notes that PCN *-aŋ can give Sangtam -aŋ, -iŋ, or -e, so the correspondences look regular - but two words isn't strong evidence.

(Why does Bruhn's discussion of Sangtam ignore these segments? He transcribes nangtping as naŋ-tə-piŋ, writing that "[t]he strange db/tp cluster in both Sangtam transcriptions likely represents a fast-speech compression of a prefix + root collocation", but it doesn't.)

Lotha and Yimchungrü preserve pj-. Are there Lotha cognates? Let's see... the dictionary on archive.org, bizarrely, translates banns but not bat. The Lotha Bilingual Dictionary (PDF) has otsolov 'daughter', which reinforces the suggestion of a -tpü prefix (for feminine kin terms?) in Sangtam words like tsulatpü.

Lotha words that look potentially related:

nopüng 'deaf' (but presumably from *paŋ rather than *pjaŋ)

epi 'fence' (probably not)

epyakü 'flat' (e-pyak-ü?)

tssanpyok 'gray (n.)'

mhechoa 'forget' (note also nnmhechokhoko /nm̥etʃʰokʰoko/ 'memorable', unless this nn- is a prefix?)

ophi 'plate' (maybe?)

On second thought, let's just search STEDT again. Within the 1.3.1 Central Naga group, we have:

tʙ̥āŋ 'needle': Yimchungrü tüpean, Lotha opyam ~ opyim. Why do none of these finals match?

tʙ̥ʌ̀ 'fence': Chungli Ao atsü (*py > ts? unsure, but Bruhn reconstructs only *p(ʰ)w *t(ʰ)j *lj for Proto-Ao)

léktʙ̥ʰīŋ 'bat': Longchang Mongsen Ao alepti; Mangmetong Mongsen Ao aləptì (maybe a Wanderwort?)

kʰítʙā 'hip joint': Lotha repyak (the Sangtam word would have to be mistranscribed for this to make sense, which seems unlikely since the final syllable has a mid tone rather than a high)

nàŋtʙ̥ìŋ 'deaf': Yimchungrü nükhünpeang

tʙ̥ʰāŋ 'drum': maybe something could be done here with e.g. Maring phung, Khoirao tung, Tangkhul p(h)ung? But these are likely unrelated even to each other - PCN *tuŋ 'stem, trunk' (via 'log drum'?) and PKC *khuaŋ 'drum'.

síŋ-tʙ̥ák 'plank (wood-flat)': PCN *a-pjak, Lotha e1-pjak2-, Yimchungrü amüpeak

nmʌ̄tʃʌ̀-pà 'forget': maybe a relation to PTB *b/m-la:p 'forget'? But I don't know if this would be at all regular.

tʙ̥ʰʎ 'plate': PTB *pu; Lotha Naga o1-phi1 'plate' or opfhu 'dish, pot'... but there's Lepcha fyu < *pu. IIRC Lepcha has preinitial *s- > medial yod (in some cases?), so given mhechoa < PTB *g/s-ma-t/n there could be something here? But probably not.

Overall, I don't see anything trivial and obvious, but based on 'needle', 'deaf', 'flat', and maybe 'hip joint', maybe they're from sequences of a labial initial and a medial yod?

[ifyougochasingrabbits]

TW: Death mention. Feat. Meloran Dowell

Meloran felt his leaden gaze barely slide over to acknowledge the familiar flash of white in his peripherals, only for them to snap back towards the figures below. Maybe if he ignores her, she'll cease to exist. Despite this, his voice escapes him right as she passes, "Been a while. Where might you be headed?"

White stopped mid-skip, her head whirled around at the sound of his voice. The corners of her lips slowly curled into an eye-squinty smirk as her foot planted itself on the ground, but not for long. She strolled on over, swaying side to side. "Nowhere! I was walkin'. Around. Are you people watchin'?" She slapped her hands onto the railing, lifting her head to peer down at whoever might be below.

Meloran released a breath slowly through his nose. "Mm," he grunted in agreement, hand raising to slip deft fingers into his curly locks. He rubbed at his scalp, muttering low, voice rolling, "Aint much happening."

White rolled her eyes over his head, looking from his curls down to his face. She turned, leaning her hip against the railing, lazily tossing her hands up with a shrug. "Everyone's out watchin' the fights. Why aren't you? I thought you liked watchin' people." She swung a weak curled right-handed fist, swinging it out in front of her. "Knockin' the shite out of other. People."

Meloran felt the answer would become readily apparent to her as his gaze languidly shifted to take her in. Watching him gave the initial impression that he was bored, restless... the speed in which he moved told a different story. Not all there, not one bit. He cleared his throat, golden hues snapping back to any kind of movement down below. "Didn't feel like it today," He sniffed, tongue clicking against his teeth. Watching her punch the air seemed impossibly funny. Meloran couldn't seem to will himself to laugh, however. "Why aren't you watching the fights?"

White upon meeting his gaze lifted not one, but two— both of her brows a little. Only a little. "Sparrow~" she cooed. Taking half a step towards him she jerked herself around, dropping her arms upon the stone half-wall, looking out at wherever he had been. "The same reason as you. I stopped by. I did." Lowering her chin into either palm scrunched up her shoulders. "But it wasn't fun. Not one bit. It doesn't look fun here either. I think your face is startin' to get stuck. Like that."

Meloran blinked, inhaling slow. He worked his jaw from left to right, thinking quietly to himself. He felt himself bristle at the nickname, teeth clenching around a portion of cheek until it hurt. "S'them sitting, have been. Not a peep neither." He grew quiet for a long while, lost in thought. "Wanna walk...?" See if they can't find something interesting to watch.

White looked around. It did seem pretty dead down there. "Not a single one?" Straightening her arms she craned her head back over her shoulder, peering at him in some sideway-almost-upsidedown manner. She stared at him wondering if she heard him right. She did. That smirk of hers returned, growing even wider. "Yes! We can. Walk." With a spin on her heel, she step, step, stepped around him, next to him where she stopped, back to the pillar. "After you~"

Meloran pushed off of the pillar, stepping forward idly. He stopped briefly for a moment, as if considering which direction he'd like to go in. He started off without much word, but a few steps in he stopped--- just to be sure she was following him ---before he continued onwards.

White skipped to catch up, taking wide steps beside him to match his pace. "Can you see where you're goin'?" she teased.

Meloran felt his brow knit at her, a face to follow with a mocking shake of his head. "Can I see where--- Yes. Of course I fuckin' can," he muttered lowly. He stopped on the steps to look out upon the others situated above the court, regarding them with a hazy look. "Mh." He huffed, stepping backwards into the hall with a squinted, paranoid gaze. Disapprovingly grunting, "Uh-mh.... Mh, mh, mh..." Meloran pauses once before he course corrects into the other direction.

White had taken a glance at the people. Then him. His face. Yep, they weren't going to cure his boredom. She followed once again, giggling at his cursing. "Are you sure? I think they're lookin' a bit like tomatoes." Another giggle broke free from between her smirky smile. She let him wander ahead a few steps, waited for him to take half a step more before catching up before he could stop and say anything about her lagging behind. Or he could. "We could go watch paint dry."

"Wh--- Tomatoes...?" Meloran frowned at her giggling, nostrils flaring in distaste. White? Having a laugh at his expense? No, can't be having that. "Where in the city would there be wet paint, s'all mostly brick innit." He kept walking, enjoying the movement... and the conversation, despite his grimaces.

White nodded. "Tomatoes!" Bending at the waist she held her hands behind her back, arms straight. Her voice lowered. "They can get so very red, sparrow." Standing up, she puffed out her chest like the proud little 'rabbit' she was. Her hands fell to either of her sides, giving a shrug. "I'unno. Maybe they're paintin' it. The brick. Somewhere." She swung her hands out in gesturing, letting them fall again. Her right one. She flexed it by her thigh. Slowly. The two middle fingers took longer to follow the others into and out of a fist. Over and over, three times.

Meloran felt his eyes distractedly follow her hands as she moved them, leaden lids blinking heavy and slow. He didn't quite put two and two together, nor did he feel like probing her further on what she meant. Yes. Tomatoes were red. So...? And suddenly he had a craving for biting right into one. A bit of salt... Yeah. That'd make for a good snack. "You feel like searching for wet paint to watch? I don't. So unless we come across it, I guess we're shit out of luck, eh?"

White looked around. At what? Many things. Her arms swung by her sides like a pendulum. "Would you? Really watch paint dry. If we found it?" She grinned up at him, one of those kind that told him she didn't believe she was asking it, but was none the less amused. He was pretty. Amusing. Leaning her head his way she laughed. "What color would you watch?"

"White." Meloran answered, squinting down the steps. He stopped, blinking three times before correcting his answer, "I'd watch white paint dry, not you dry paint." Yeah. Anyway, he made his way down the steps pretty comfortably, looking past the railing as best he could to see what goings on were... going on. "How's about yourself? What color?" Then, in the same breath, "Fuckin hell, every step looks the same." Gods forbid he take a tumble in front of her. So, he rested his hand against the stone. Meloran couldn't quite see past what was at his hip, so if there were anyone lining the wall below he was ignorant of them. "...Is everyone out watching that tournament?"

White opened her mouth to ask wha— oh. Her brows furrowed her face into a puzzled expression. "I'd. Pick— I knew you couldn't see! I did. Do!" Her words fell out among laughter. Pressing her weight into her hands she pushed herself, her feet up off the floor, trying to get a look over the stair's railing. "It was busy! When I went by. Even the fight tree had people. Fightin'. Not as many as the other place." She dropped to the steps, turning around to seat her rump against said railing. "Red." Colors. "Or yellow! No. Orange. If it's on the brick. Blue would be pretty."

"Blue wouldn't match," Meloran muttered, looking down at the carpeted steps. "...Nothin' bright anyway. Red would be too much." Yellow was an idea. Gold and red always looked good together. "I can see," he muttered, making more progress down the stairs. "When everythin' aint lookin' the same as the next."

White watched him head down the stairs, rolling her eyes. He of all people would know what would and wouldn't match. But— "Why not? It can!" She hopped down the stairs step by step from one foot to the other past him, hopping yet again up! Onto the stone. She leaned to the side, waving her hand in front of his face. "You've lived here how long? You should know it like the back of your hand! Or. Are you not payin' attention, little sparrow~?" She teasingly tsked him. Running along her palm, from above the heel of her palm near the padding under her fingers marked a scar. A pink one. Fresh.

Meloran lazily watched her as she hopped up onto the stone banister. "Long enough," he answers, non-committal. "You think about the steps everytime you go down them? I'm fine," he dismissed, his nose scrunching alongside a lip curl. But the moment she waved her hand in front of his face he felt his focus zero in on it. A hand instinctively reached out to snatch her by the wrist, tugging her one way--- then the next when he noticed the scar on her had at closer inspection. Meloran felt his brain struggle to comprehend the addition--- had this always been there? Surely he'd've noticed beforehand... then again, scars on the hand weren't uncommon. Even he had a few nicks here from random, daily tasks. He turned her hand over, observing it. Though whether the information would stick in an addled brain was questionable.

White was easily moved wherever he liked as if she was a pretty little doll jerked one way then the next. She didn't mind, though another puzzled look might make others think differently. That was a them problem. "What. Are you lookin' at? Whatareyoulookin'at?" Halfway through hearing her own question, it dawned on her. Right. He’s looking at that. She folded her fingers over the scar, staring at him. Smiling a stern, knowing smile. "Did you miss my hands? That much." Whatever had gifted her palm with the scar generously gave another on the other side among the valleys and hills of her scales. On first glance, even more after it could easily be missed.

"You know what I'm looking at," Meloran snapped back, brow furrowing. "'Else you wouldn't be hiding it." He had half a mind to pry open her fingers if she played dumb, to dig is thumb in. The scar looked fresh enough, her hands thin enough. It'd hurt if he did it, even if the scales got in the way, he was sure. "How'd you get it?"

White kept. On. Staring. Unflinching as he snapped at her. Her fingers remained folded. "Why do you care." came out with a sharpness at its tip pointingly stabbed at his ears. "Are you jealous, sparrow? That you didn't get to make it?"

Meloran frowned. "You wanted me to see it, elsewise you wouldn't've stuck your hand in my face." He imagines that, that's the closest to displeased he'll ever hear from her. "I could do worse than your hand. What, then? Couldn't keep your mitts off of something you weren't 'sposed to touch, was it?"

White shook her head, letting out a 'nuh-uh'! "I was tryin' to get your attention." She wiggled her head at him. "Not that it's hard to. With you. When you're not over powerin' your nose. Can you even breath?" She hopped right over his words with her own.

Meloran felt more than just a twinge of irritation at her words, something plain as day on his face. Despite himself, he sniffed, dropping her hand as if it'd burned him. "Just fine," he answered. There was something double annoying about the way she evaded his questions. "Fine, then. I've lost interest. I don't wanna know." He does. He really does.

White's hand fell into her lap. Slid off her lap, using it and the other to push off the stair railing she hopped off of. Stepping past him they softly swung forward, back, then forward again, throwing them into the air! Dramatically shrugging before they fell to her side. She twisted halfway, gazing at him over her shoulder. "I fell." It wasn't a lie.

Meloran believed her, at least for now. His addled brain was pleased enough to recieve an answer that questioning the validity of her statement. Later, though, that'll be be a different story. "Trip over yourself doing one of your flamboyant little turns, did you?"

White nodded, her smile forced itself into something wider. Something patronizing. That also wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the full truth. Later him could figure that out. Or not. She didn't care. "The ground can't get enough of me!" she laughed out.

Meloran thought briefly about tossing her down the stairs. He stared off blankly down the steps, deciding against it. "Someday you're gonna get put into it." Was that a joke, or simply a fact? He took a few steps, asking, "...Where would you wanna be buried, if you had the choice?"

White didn't follow, not this time. She just stared. Again. She continued to stare as she silently filled her lungs through her nose. Where was her grave? She asked when he told her, didn't she? ...no, that detail was left out. Because she didn't. It didn't matter.

Meloran continued to step off, totally ignorant to what was going on in White's little head. After it'd been too quiet, he lifted his head to look at her. A groan. "What? Is that what you're squeamish on?"

White lifted her head a little, whatever distance expression that claimed her face blinked away. Literally. She blinked, pausing a beat longer. "Where is she?" Before he had the chance to open his grumpy mouth she clarified as she approached him, "Her grave." He knew who. She knew he knew somewhere in that addled head of his.

Meloran paused, the world coming to a stand still--- and yet it spun in the back of his head. In a split instant he felt his stomach drop, something indiscernible crossing his face. He didn't know who exactly she meant, but in a surreal snap of reality he gained clarity on her question. Wrong she. Right, she. "Lichyard," he answered, quieter than intended, "The girls n' I pay her visits when we can." He wants to question her about it, but for once he held his tongue on the matter.

A puzzled look returned to White's face, a veil that covered a look even she wouldn't be able to explain. It pushed down upon the corners of her smile. The smile was a little stronger, sitting lopsided on her lips. "Why?" she asked, brows furrowed in confused question. "You can't talk to her. She. Can't talk to you. Or them." Her gaze dances across her face as if she could find the answer on it without him speaking. She still wanted him to. White hovered a foot over the step below while she waited.

Meloran felt his face grimace before he processed her words fully. "The fuck do you mean 'why'?" He spat out, the bridge of his nose snarling. "That's what you do when someone's died. You visit them. You think it'd be any better to leave her there, alone, beause she can't talk back? Why even ask where she's been buried?"

White took half a step towards him, staring up at him with a face that might as well ask what pissed in his drink. If he had a drink. "What do you mean, whatdoImean?" She leaned in, closer. An uncertain chuckle slipped free, like she couldn't understand. She didn't. "What's. The point? Of visitin'."

Meloran stood straight, his face pinched and screwed up entirely. This conversation, and subsequently the discomfort it brought, served only to stoke his ire further. He felt smothered by it, half choked on it. It faltered slightly, seeing her face--- and for a moment in his frustration he pitied her for not understanding. He stared down at her, teeth bared, chest beginning to heave. "It's what you do." He paused, trying to think of any other answer, but each brought him dangerously close to being vulnerable. Vulnerable to her. A sign of weakness, some soft thing he knew she'd dig her fingers into. A wound he'd sooner protect by breaking her wrist than allowing her to pick it apart. "Maybe you ought to give it a go yourself, huh? There's no better teacher than experience," he grunted.

White watched and listened. Listened and watched, studying his face. Her own fell some, just a little. She straightened up at his answer and suggestion, but mostly at his suggestion. "That's silly." Jokes on her. "She won't talk back." she added, heading down the step. She veered to their left in the direction of the weaver's guild's aetheryte, listening for whatever harsh, angry reply she expected to spit her way.

Meloran followed after her despite himself, huffing and puffing all the while. "It's not silly," he hissed, "She existed. She was real. She deserves respect for having lived, regardless of whether she speaks back to us or not. That's not the point."

White stopped, then whirled herself around, meeting his gaze. "I know." Came out between a smile. It sure as hell didn't sound it, more like a hammer's head dropped against a table, startling herself to blink. She straightened herself out, letting her arms hang by her sides nonchalant-like. "She. Exisited. Did you forget where I worked? Maybe you'd like to."

Meloran felt his eyes roll back, any further and he's certainly be looking into his own head. "This conversation's over," he stated bluntly, his frustration reaching its peak. Despite how loud the build up was, the moment in which he gave into his rage was strangely quiet. Golden hues fell back onto her, staring down at her with a cold, dead gaze. "S'fucked, thought you two were close enough for you to give at least one, single flying fuck about her after she's passed," he made a face. Meloran leaned in to spit his vitriol at her, mouth more akin to a snarl what with the way his lip curled around each and every word, "You're like every other selfish cunt that really only cares about herself, the dead be damned even in their memory." With that, he stood straight--- only to skulk off like a dark little cloud in some other direction. Clearly not keen on the idea of being followed.

White didn't move. It wasn't a surprise she'd been called every name under the sun at some point, having the standard list circle back around a few times at this point in her life. She'd bet half of it came from him. But she didn't like it this time, a stern look on her face stared back. Her smile faltered. Lowered so much the slight lopsided curl might as well be nonexistent. She didn't say anything as he walked away, her head following him. Watching him until he could no longer be seen. For a bit after she lingered, eyes on the air where his back had faced her. Then she turned and wandered off to who knows where. She wasn't sure yet.

[ahungeringknife]

365: March 24

I like intellectually know Marcus is like... a very capable Hunter and shit. On the other I can't help but imagine him just being the biggest self absorbed bastard who is WAY too smart for his own good and WAY too obsessed with sparrows and SRL.

---

It really was something getting a call from Didi to come down to part of the Hanger now because Kass was busy blowing up Marcus' workshop. The Ghost didn't even seem harrowed for the destruction she was explaining either.

Grey still booked it down there. When they arrived there was exploded sparrows everywhere and fire and Marcus and Kass having a yelling match over a burning pile of metal and scrap. Or maybe it was another new prototype from Marcus, hard to tell. Kass was positively radiant in fury and Grey had no idea what had happened.

They grabbed the fire extinguisher on the wall to start with. Grey wasn't Solar inclined and used it to wade through the scorched workshop. They were ignored by the two fighting parties and they weren't even sure what they were arguing about. Something serious to have made Kass so damn mad.

They sprayed Marcus across the back with the extinguisher making the skinny shit jump in fright and when he cleared the way they sprayed Kass down too. "Okay, that's enough," Grey said loudly before she could start yelling again. "What the fuck is going on here?"

"She lost her mind and started blowing up my work!" Marcus cried.

"He's a piece of shit," Kass pointed at Marcus accusingly.

"Just because you're insane doesn't make me-

Grey sprayed him in the face with the extinguisher. "Watch the mouth, bucko," they said cooly. Then they turned back to Kass who was wiping the extinguisher foam off her, "Whatever he did isn't worth burning down the Hanger. Cool your jets," they said.

Kass looked around at the fire absolutely starting to grow beyond the room and with a loud huff like a great puff of air all the fire went out. Which... was terrifying if Grey thought about it too long. They didn't know any Hunter who could do anything like that living or dead. A Warlock maybe. But a Hunter? Terrifying. "I am not sorry," she said, folding her arms. "Do not call me again, piece of shit," she told Marcus and stalked off.

That left Grey alone with Marcus covered in extinguisher foam. "What the fuck did you do, Ren?" Grey asked him.

"Nothing!"

"Doubtful. Didi, what'd he do?" they asked his Ghost.

"Kassandra brought him a nice Dawning gift and Marcus laughed at her," Didi said.

"Hey! That is not what happened," Marcus cried, furious.

"Is that what this is?" Grey kicked what had been between them. It was more or less some cloth that was nearly burned to a crisp.

"Yes," Didi said. "She got him a new cloak."

Grey blinked at Marcus. "And you laughed at her?"

"I did not," Marcus steamed.

"He said he thought it was a joke and was surprised Kassandra took this so seriously. He also didn't accept it."

Grey smiled dangerously at Marcus and the SRL racer looked nervous. "My sweet Kassy took your relationship serious and you laughed at her?" they said. "Is this a fucking joke to you, Ren?"

"What? It was just a fun winter league thing," Marcus said.

Grey narrowed their purple-gray eyes at him. Giving a new cloak or armor piece to your partner was a symbol you wanted to be serious with them. Lightless always said it was akin to 'marriage' but Guardians didn't get married. "She's right, you are an asshole," and they sprayed him in the face with the extinguisher again. "I see you bothering my baby girl again and I'll carve up that stupid face of yours," and for good measure threw the extinguisher at Marcus' chest where he caught it with a grunt. They walked off to go find Kass.

[saint-14s-gay-pigeon]

Dressing up as Mr. Bloodborne for Halloween

[panthera-tigris-venenata]

The super-self-indulgend crossover of The Umbrella Academy and Descendants.

@lyramundana

Here you go, enjoy.

At the end of the 3rd series, Five doesn't lose his powers, at least not right now, not entirely- he has enough for one last jump, one last desperate attempt to save his powers, the word as he knows it, and maybe his life. It's not spatial jump, not even a time jump, it's something way more dangerous, prohibited by every Commission rulebook there is, and no sane person would ever try it, but Five has moved beyond „sane“ a long time ago.

He jumps through dimensions.

Lila, the mirror, follows him within seconds. She doesn't care for dying any more than she cares for the rulebook: she read them once and decided they suck.

Klaus crashes the dimension they landed in after about two days of continual deaths, at least five screaming matches with god, and good deal of closely-unspecified drugs.

He never read the rulebook.

He did, however, read his fair share of fairytales, so he recognises the dimension they found themselves in the first. Or maybe he is still of his rocket, hard to know.

Either way, he falls down on the decrepit, dark street, pulls himself upwards, not bothering to dust himself, and looks around.

„Hey! You look like Malefincent! Like, horns and all!“ he informs a tiny woman who os passing by in flaring robes. She turns around and glows her eyes green at him. She also almost hits him with her scepter, but Klaus is very good at dodging.

„Oh!“ he beams at her, „You are Maleficent!“

She attempts to hit him again.

„Have you seen my brother here? Tiny man, grumpy, kidna cute when he wants to be? Can jump through time and space? Can slaughter a whole room of grown men with a fire-emergency axe? Asks for a black coffee every half an hour?“

...And the Maleficent woman is gone. Nice.

„Someone? Anyone?!“ he yells through the ally. And Klaus was so sure he got the right dimension this time!

Eventually, someone drags him to the Slop Shop in the port, where Five is, sure enough, drinking the disgusting thing they call coffee.

Klaus is well aware the kids attempt to rob him blind, too, but jokes on them, he has nothing worth stealing.

„Hi little man!“ Klaus rushes to hug his brother and take a sip his coffee. Turns out Five has already spiked the disgusting bitter thing with something. „Finally found you!“

„What the hell are you doing here, Klaus?“ Five asks instead of greeting. Rude.

„Why, looking for my favourite brother, of course! Well, second favourite-“

„...Ben has been dead for years,“ mutters Five and Klaus proceeds to ignore him.

„Anyway, did you meet Maleficent yet? She is such a lovely lady!“

Five almost chokes: „Maleficent?!“

...And that's how the brothers find out they accidentally crashed a nightmare dystopia version of happily ever after.

Lila knew already. Probably. At either rate, she has been vibing with Facilier sisters the whole time. She was also the first one to discover that the kids of this dimension got their powers. Suddenly. Apparently, they had no powers before, and magic doesn't work on the Iske, whatever the Isle is.

Good for them, decides Lila, as she still has her mirror powers.

She also decides she will be having few strong, ehm, words of choice, with whoever made the Isle. The words being „yelling till their ears bleed“, „some strategically applied torture“, „defenestration“, and maybe „arson“ and „explosives“.

...Yeah, no. Those are not gonna be words. Lila's gonna kill that bloody bastard.

Anyway, the Facilier sisters?

They are kidna cool.

One of them, Celia, Lila thinks, got her power, the mirror. The other sister got the weird raven-thing one of the Sparrows had going on. You know who, that kidna hot goth girl? With the sunglases? Yeah, that one.

So, yeah. But the Facilers are making it work! They've had their powers for about two days and they have enough blackmail material to get half the Isle do their bidding!

Well, enough new blackmail material. They were decently stocked even before.

At this point, a fight breaks out in front of the, ehm, coffee Klaus and Five are sitting in: a dark-haired boy and a blonde girl, a bit younger than him, are yelling at eachother in frankly admirable volume; Klaus winces and raises his hands to his ears. Ow.

Another girl, that looks like a mixture of them both, trails a bit after them, smirking, and casually picking up the daggers they threw and other weapons they dropped. Sure. Looks fun.

Oh. And the younger girl starts spitting. Nice.

„Don't spit at your brother, Calista!“ scolds the older girl, „Not even if your saliva makes him see things! Especially then-“

They boy protests and they move to yell at eachother somewhere else. The space around them is suddenly completely empty, which might or might not have something to do with the sudden suffocating feeling of dread Klaus is feeling: his head hurts, too, and he has trouble breathing.

„What was that?“ he whines.

„That, brother dear,“ answers Five, putting down his spiked drink, which is not worthy of the name coffee, „I have been trying to figure out for the last two days, up until you showed up and told me that apparently, you have met Maleficent, and that the shop across the street is run by Ursula the sea witch.“

A group of ragged teens enters the gruesome estabilishment, so loud that the Umbrella brothers have no choice but to have the displeasure to hear their conversation:

„So... Our Captain suddenly has tentacles?“

„Sure.“

„Well, she's half sea witch anyway, so I would worry about that too much.“

„I'd worry about that! Especially if the tentacles are creepy af and want to rip people apart!“

„...Still no real change here.“

„Besides, the only creepy thing here is the fact that our firts mate finds it hot.“

„...I hate you all and I hope you all burn in hell for reminding me of that.“

Klaus chokes a laugh and the teenage pirates continue talking:

„Hey, speaking of creepy things, have y'all noticed the weird creepy feeling you get when he looks you in the eye? It low-key makes me wanna die.“

„Sucks for you, mate. I stopped looking Harry Hook in the eye years ago.“

„... That's fair.“

The teens grab their drinks and exit the shop without paying, rapidly pursued by a couple of angry... Goblins? Well, those creatures are absolutely creepy enough to be goblins, so, yeah.

Five pours another shot of alcohol into the pitiful remainer of his coffee and mutters something like „can't catch a fucking break“, „gotta find a way out of this mess“ and „at least the bloody apocalypse had rules.“

Now, ehm, some of the TUA powers I gave to Descendants kids? Maybe some „interesting“ bits of trivia as well?

Freddie Facilier got Fey's birds. She didn't lose her sight, though. And she is having quite a lot of fun with her new spies, thank you for asking.

As is Celia, who got Lila's mirror.

None of them has tried to get the birds through the Barrier yet, but if it is possible, well, the Beast would be losing his eyes very soon. And the Remote to the Barrier immediately after. Probably also a good deal of the less gaudy royal jewels.

Look, all three of them are opportunistic bitches (affectionate) and I love them. That's why none of the Facilier sisters got Klaus's immortality and ghost powers.

Speaking of Klaus's immortality and ghost powers, I was thinking either Carlos de Vil or Claudine Frollo.

CJ Hook got Jayme's Nightmare Venon and it's my favourite thing. Just. Imagine it. Tiny half feral pirate child CJ Hook, literally spitting at her enemies. And she'd have a blast viewing their hallucinations, too.

Harry got Christopher's Existential Horror. But he is not a cube. Uma would probably break the universe to kill the creator if her boyfriend first mate suddenly turned into a cube.

To get the full brunt of Harry's powers, you need to look him in the eyes. He takes to wearing sunglasses around Uma and Gil.

Speaking of Uma. She gets Ben's Horror, because, come on, her mother is half-octopus. I don't have the energy to figure out anything more complicated.

Harriet, well, idk. Honestly, the funniest scenario is if she gets none, because look at it:

The Hook siblings fight, again. And this time, they apparently added a few crocodiles in the mix to make it „more exciting“.

Five is just starting to figure out that the kids really have the powers like his siblings and the Sparows do. He even pinned some of them down, most notably Harry and CJ, who make no effort to conceal their powers and also apparently feel the need to be the center of attention all the time.

Now he is focusing on their sister: She has just picked up a crocodile with her bare hands and throws it across the street.

„So this one clearly got superstrenght,“ Five mutters.

„Oh, no,“ answers Anthony, making heart eyes at Harriet from the sidelines of the fight, „She could always do that.“

„...What?!“

The Tremaine boy shrugs and says that it comes from a lifetime of wrestling crocodiles, and, excuse me, what?!

What the fuck is wrong with this dimension?!

„Sure. She could always do that. Do you have any alcohol?“ Five compromises, looking around. Anthony pulls out a flask without missing a beat.

So, yeah, she might or might not have superstrenght, but Anthony is biased, so we will never know.

He also comforts her later when she complains that her siblings got powers. This is what he precisely says: „Harriet, you are the scariest person I know, even without mind-altering powers.“ (and it works)

The other option considered for her was the Rumour.

But also.

Evie with the Rumour. Hear me out, Evie with Allison's Rumour. Girl knows how to speak, how to close any loopholes. (Her mother was bored, so she actually taught her stuff-), so, yeah. Evie with the Rumour would be terrifying, but also, she wouldn't abuse it. Too much.

Jay got Diego's power.

Idk, as you can see, I'm obsessed with the pirates (which apparently includes Faciliers and Tremaines, too), so, yeah, this is what I've got.

The rest is like. No plot. Only vibes ✨

And various people rightfully yelling at King Beast and Fairy Godmother.

Maybe a bit of arson.

Oh, of course. Five, Klaus, and Lila help the Isle kids get out of their prison. Because they are decent people, right?

Klaus also takes one look at the Isle kids and goes: „Oh. I guess I'm a parent now.“

So do Lila and Five, but they don't say it out loud.

Five almost gets a heart attack when Lila casually greets him on the streets a day later, because what do you mean you have been here the whole time?!

„Yeah, and?“

Klaus is pretty happy to see Lila and attempts to hug her. She alnost stabs him before dropping the knife and awkwardly patting his back.

And of course, the "we ended the word" conversation I'm bringing back because I think it's hilarious:

Five, trying to get Isle kids to cooperate: „Y'know, we almost destroyed the world three times. We blew up the moon once.“

90% of Isle kids in earshot: „Cool. Can you do it again?“

CJ Hook: „Can you teach me how to blow up the moon?!“

Klaus: „...Ok everyone, I'll be holding a yoga class next morning and a support group after lunch.“

(Against Five's expectations, this conversation does not, in fact, make the Isle kids behave. Not even a bit. Harriet and Ginny show up on the yoga class with a bottle of wine though.)

Yeah, that's all I've got.

[captnjacksparrow]

Sparrow, after reading your post about anti SS I have a doubt Could it be Sarada an experiment child? I mean Sasuke who doesn't give a shit about her or Sakura. Does Naruto knows about it?

Kishimoto definitely created the suspicion among the readers that Sarada might have been conceived Artificially...

It all started from this panel...

Look at Shizune's regretful and hesitant face when asked about Sarada's birth history... I mean, why in the hell everyone pulls up this regretful face around this Girl????

Then this Visual symbolism of equating Shin and Sarada... Both wears Uchiha Clan crests, one already has Sharingan... And the other will eventually awaken it in the upcoming chapters...

But are they truly a descendant of Uchiha?????

Then this entire panel... Intentionally including Sarada when Kakashi was speculating about when that Shin is an Uchiha or not...

"So if he had the Sharingan... That's only mean .... though very unlikely... That he's a descendant of the Uchiha or he's another one of Orochimaru's experiments.."

Am implication or this author's way of planting a seed of doubt that whether Sarada was the true descendant or an experimental kid???

"Connections aren't built by time and blood, Are they??? There are stronger things than those!!! Thoughts/Feelings. That's all you need"

And finally we get the conclusion that, "Whether you are experimental or natural born... It's doesn't matter. Feelings/Love is all that matters"

Look at Sakura's word choice... "Damnit! You're my child.. No doubt about it."

I wonder why can't she say 'You're our kid'???

But look at Naruto's hilarious face... LOLOL. I can't even figure out what he was thinking here....

As for whether Naruto knew about it....

I don't think he cared about Sasuke's personal life with Sakura... or what he was doing with her...

Which is evident by this panel...

"Rather than me saying it... I think it would be better for Sarada to explain"

So, Naruto truly didn't know whether Sasuke was visiting his family or not. He simply don't care about that.

And then this curious and suspicious face when Sasuke was associated with another woman. LOLOLOL. (It explains why Naruto was always coming inbetween Sasuke and Sakura during their Academy days).

And yet after knowing that Sarada and Karin's DNA got matched up... Naruto didn't go off to convince Sarada that Sakura & Sasuke were her true parents or something... He simply ignored that part and started to convince her about Bloodless Bonds.

So, Again... He simply don't care about Sarada's birth here. Or he didn't bother to know.

Naruto was not at all needed here in this panel... And yet he was inserted here... only to give off this knowing 'Bitch!! puhhh-lease!!!' face.

So, I think... whenever N and S meet each other... They will never talk about their dysfunctional family... That explains why Sasuke don't even know about Boruto's name until he met him.

I think the purpose of this whole drama was that the Author wanted to instill that Doubt about Sarada's Birth (SS relationship in extension) inside readers mind for 6 chapters... With Shin clones wearing those Uchiha clan crest just like Sakura & Sarada.... With Sasuke can't able to identify his own kid's face... Ooops!!!! And then only for the Author to finally say, 'Never mind!!! I just joked. It's all just nothing'.

So, I feel there's nothing more than this to it. Sarada is indeed a child born to Sasuke and Sakura. But if she ended up as an Artificial kid in the future plotline (Which I doubt very much), I wouldn't be surprised though.

[tua-braindump]

Here is my fill for Day 2 of FFC 2023! Prompt: forgotten what we were fighting about

TUA Fic set in S3. Female!reader x sparrow!Ben established relationship.

Read it on AO3 HERE!

WORKING TITLE: You can't just - it's not important anymore.

The moment you stormed into the academy, the rest of the siblings made themselves scarce. You didn't get mad often, but when you did, it never went well. Both you and Ben were equally stubborn and there had been a couple of shouting matches since you two had started dating. The last time someone (Sloane) had tried to intervene, the two of you had turned your fury on them instead.

"WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING? YOU KIDNAPPED THEIR NUMBER ONE?"

"WELL THEY TOOK MARCUS!"

"ARE YOU SURE THEY TOOK MARCUS OR CAN YOU JUST NOT FIND HIM???"

"WHERE THE HELL ELSE COULD HE BE? ALSO HE WAS LAST SEEN TALKING TO THE TINY ONE."

"YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE THE GOOD GUYS YOU CAN'T JUST GO AROUND KIDNAPPING PEOPLE BENJAMIN!"

"HOW ELSE WERE WE SUPPOSED TO GET ANSWERS?"

"I DON'T KNOW, MAYBE BY ASKING NICELY LIKE A NORMAL PERSON???"

"HERE WE GO AGAIN WITH THE 'NORMAL PERSON' BULLSHIT"

"JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE 'SPECIAL' DOESN'T MEAN YOU CAN DO WHATEVER YOU WANT!"

"YOU CAN'T POSSIBLY UNDERSTAND WHAT I'M GOING THROUGH RIGHT NOW!"

"YOU KNOW WHAT, YOU'RE RIGHT ABOUT THAT! AND MAYBE I DON'T WANT TO!"

"FINE!"

"FINE!"

He turns his back on you and you stomp up the stairs to Sloane's room, knocking angrily. Your hand barely has time to leave the door before it's swinging open and you're being pulled into a tight hug. You exhale loudly, tension leaving your body as you melt into the embrace.

Sloane slowly guides you back into her room and shuts the door gently, locking it behind her. She sits down in mid-air and motions you to the bed.

"Maybe I shouldn't have said anything. He really does mean well...mostly. And they were really nice to Luther! Other than the whole kidnapping thing."

You sigh heavily and shake your head.

"I really care about him, but sometimes he's so impulsive and stupid. It's like he doesn't think about the consequences of his actions at all! I don't know, Slo, maybe this whole thing is too much trouble for both of us."

Sloane frowns at you. "I don't want to tell you what to do, but he's become so much better since he met you. It's not his fault that we grew up being told that we were special. And you know how he is. He puts up this front of cockiness but he really just wants to do what he thinks is the right thing."

"I know. He has a good heart under all that prickliness, but sometimes what he thinks is the right thing is so far from that."

Sloane reaches out and takes your hand in hers. "I know, but he is trying. He has changed so much and a lot of that is because of how much he cares about you. I've never seen him like this with anybody else, not even with Fei and she's his favorite sibling. And it's clear how much you care about him."

You're about to answer when there's a frission of energy in the air. Both you and Sloane look up, alarmed as a wave of blue energy ripples out from somewhere in the academy. There's a beat of silence before it is quickly sucked back the way it came.

"Did you-?" Sloane looks at you concerned.

You nod, scared.

There's another weighted pause before the two of you rush to the window.

What was previously a busy street is now silent. You spy the ice cream cart that's always on the corner, but the owner is nowhere to be seen. On top of that, there's an abandoned ice cream cone melting on the floor by the cart. You exchange alarmed looks with Sloane before you basically sprint out her room and down the halls. You almost run over Fei and Jayme, but you don't stop, ignoring the disgruntled noises they make as you charge past. You burst into Ben's room and he startles, sitting up in his bed.

"What do you want now?" He snaps, eyes narrowing in annoyance.

You're too relieved to see him to even remember what you were fighting about before. You hold in a sob of relief before basically flinging yourself at him and wrapping your arms around him, ignoring his sounds of confusion. He does his best to extract the book he was reading from where it's jabbing him in the ribs between you and wraps his other arm around you, concerned. He tosses the book to the floor as he hauls you up so he can see your face.

"Are you crying?" He asks, incredulous.

"NO!" you choke out, sniffling as you bury your face back into the crook of his neck and inhale his familiar scent.

"I thought you weren't done being mad at me." He murmurs as he smooths your hair back from your face.

"That's not important right now," you mumble, "I'm just so glad you're alive."

You feel him stiffen beneath you. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Before you can answer, there's a knock on the door frame and you hear Sloane's voice.

"Ben, I think we have a problem."

February Ficlet Challenge 2023 Prompts, Day 2

The February Ficlet Challenge prompts for February 2 are, “Caught in the rain OR Forgotten what we were fighting about.”

Write a ficlet of at least 200 words within 24 hours of seeing this prompt, and post your ficlet to this collection.

One month. Twenty-eight prompts. Twenty-eight pairings. One ficlet a day. Write Fast.

[lukas-crowsong]

@sharkpupsblog buckle up!!!

anne = i have to admit this choice was influenced by the croaking webtoon which has a character similar to anne in personality (uptight, put-together, commanding) who is an albatross. but besides that, i found the distance of this bird's flight without rest..... an interesting comparison. (years without touching land, sleeping in the air, touching down only briefly on water.) wandering albatrosses have the largest wingspan of any living bird which could match her horse being the only one other than mc's to have wings in normal canon. it's a superstition among sailors that killing an albatross brings bad luck, another superstition being that they're supernatural because they can fly for so long without even flapping. ALSO SOME ALBATROSSES ARE SAPPHIC. (i'm gonna stop before this whole post becomes me infodumping about albatrosses heh)

lisa = out of all sparrows that live in texas year-round (as in they don't migrate out of the state) rufus-crowned sparrows have the most intricate song, as well as beautiful subtle speckling on their wings that could reflect lisa's birthmark. i focused on sparrows because they're one of the smallest and most common songbirds :) also vibes (i was going to make lisa a dove which was really tempting... it came down to a spinning wheel in the end 🥲)

alex = i would've liked a bird associated with storms, but other than fictional birds the only one i could find is an australian 'storm bird' that lands before rain. so, woodpeckers seemed more appropriate in their attributes such as tenacity! as well as their physicality (not many birds attack trees literally head-on). also, fun fact, tongues of woodpeckers are one of the longest in the bird world as they wrap around the bird's skull to cushion it against hammering!

linda = owls seemed an obvious choice, but i choose the little owl specifically because they're the sacred animal of the greek goddess athena, and so the cause of owls being associated with wisdom. also, she smol :)

maya = puffins are hard little workers! living on cliffs and being preyed on by bigger birds like gulls can't be an easy life. but they survive regardless! they have quite close-knit connections among flocks, and are adaptable enough to spend time diving for fish then return to the air. the atlantic puffin's orange beak matches maya's hair :) (that's not my only reason i swear lmao; they're most regional to areas similar to jorvik. which is probably the second and last instance i've factored in location)

evergray = red knots are associated with spirituality in quite a few different cultures/mythologies. they also symbolise long journeys and adventure

ydris = magpies are nasty bastards that steal shiny things. tell me that's not ydris

avalon = honestly he seems like the type of guy to bury his head in the ground 😭 i suppose i also view him as quite tall and lanky so vibes-wise it felt like a no-brainer to me lmao

justin = look at this man and tell me he doesn't have the energy of the kind of idiot that would hang out in a crocodile's mouth

big bonny = another owl would be sensible, but i have to be honest: there are so many to choose from. i couldn't make up my mind ':) meanwhile blue jays are actually very intelligent birds that also capture bonny's intensity!

elizabeth: fun fact, robins are regarded as the most mothering birds of the bird world! also, in england (i don't know about other countries) there's a myth that each garden has one robin, and its death brings bad luck. no other robin will visit that garden afterwards

pi = ravens are symbols of death, deceit and destruction. does that not sum up pi? (even if i think they're just cool birds and don't deserve that bad rep 😭 i can't ignore connotations)

[stone-cold-style]

I don't believe in Fairy Tails, but I believe in you and me

Summary: this takes place immediately after the end of Duchess's diary, so if you haven't read it, I recommend doing so. Sparrow comforts the Duchess after her own failure makes the royal question her choices and even her role in Ever After High

Warnings: some swearing

Word count: 1360

@feline17ff Look! I'm writing fanfic too!

The Swan slammed the door behind her, throwing herself on the bed as warm tears full of rage ran down her face.

"Wh-what the hex?" A familiar voice exclaimed.

"Don't you say anything, don't you see that I'm devastated, you stupid bird?" Sparrow crossed his arms with a serious expression that didn't match him. It's not everyday that you see a crying Duchess invading your dorm in the middle of the day. 

"Yeah I have eyes, I just don't know what that has to do with going into my room out of nowhere. I could have been changing y'know, imagine if you saw me changing."

"I'm not gonna imagine that" she threw a pillow at him "Now can you please be a gentleman and ask me what's wrong?" Said, managing to sound even angrier. God, this probably was a mistake, she shouldn't have allowed Sparrow to see her in this vulnerable state. She shouldn't allow anyone, for that matter.

Sparrow tilted his head. On one hand, the Duchess was prone to temper tantrums and drama and this could very well be one of those. On the other hand… crying wasn't really her thing, especially not in front of others.

"What happened?" He asked then, sitting on the bed by her side. Satisfied, she sat up and cleaned some of her tears.

"Remember that presentation for The White Queen that I told you about?" The thief thought for a while.

"The one where you had to inspire people with your story?"

"Yes. I. I did this whole thing, I acted like a true white swan, I was kind and humble and everyone loved it and it was so nice" said, her voice full of melancholy.

"What's the problem, then?" He said, not understanding where she was getting at.

"Let me finish!" She exclaimed, but her eyes went to sadness again and she sighed.

"Apple, that stupid princess, did a ballet presentation right after mine and she knows that ballet is MY thing! She could've done absolutely anything but she just had to go with ballet it's like she was trying to be outshine me!"

"Well, White is a goody two shoes, I'm sure she didn't mean any harm"

"That's not the problem, Sparrow!" She said exasperated, turning to look him in the eyes. "It's that. It seems like it doesn't matter how much I try, I'm always forgotten, ignored, overshadowed! I'm not like them, I don't get a happily ever after, I don't get the guy and I definitely don't get the kingdom! All I get is a stupid legacy and my ballet, and now not even that I guess! I don't want to die just to be forgotten!" The words rushed from her mouth, as if they've been stuck in her throat for a long time, desperate to let out, to allow vulnerability and fear. "Hell, even a commoner like you gets a happily ever after in your tale, it's not fair" added, because she had to be at least a bit mean or else it wasn't the Duchess speaking. Sparrow, however, seemed to ignore that last part, too focused on looking for the right words.

"I know a thing or two about being forgotten" said, the softness in his tone a secret that would stay between the two, just like many others "But I won't forget you, Duch. It's hard to forget such a mean bitch" she hit him with a pillow again. And again.

"You're. Awful. At. Being. A. Gentleman" said, and with each word, she hit her friend again with the poor pillow. "And also an awful liar" continued as she calmed down, not looking him in the eyes "I know I'm just a forgettable, desperate swan for you, just like for everyone else"

"If that's what you see, then maybe you're trying to impress the wrong people" shrugged, laying down on the bed with his arms behind his head.

"What the hex is that supposed to mean?"

"You're trying to be remembered as a kind and nice princess and that's not really what you are. You're more of a…

"Black Swan" she concluded the phrase for him, looking down at her hands, feeling like crying again. "That's what Faybelle said. That I'm destined to be the Black Swan, the villain. Cruel and selfish, only able to get her prince by deceiving her way into romance" as the words left her mouth, realization hit and she looked down, a single tear tracing it's way down her face "That sounds exactly like me doesn't it?"

"I mean-"  Sparrow started, but she was quick to interrupt.

"I tried to be good, kind and humble and what did I get? Nothing!" she snapped, her voice full of uncertainty and frustration "So maybe they're right! Maybe I'll make a better villain!" She felt the urge to cover her mouth like uttering those words alone was an offense against good costumes, but instead simply allowed it to sink in. 

After a moment of tension, Sparrow opened a smile, excited and threw his hands in the air.

"Yeah! I could even make you a villain song! And you could dance to it!" 

"And I would finally have a happily ever after." Said, again with the feelings that those words where a crime, ignoring Sparrow's optimist perspective "But at what cost?" Added more to herself, to remember that as tempting as that sounded, she still had responsibilities.

"Hm… Basically none? Unless you care about befriending White and her crew" The Duchess's face immediately turned into a frown of disgust upon hearing those names, but she tried to remain composed.

"I- I don't know Sparrow. I just don't know. If I'm the Black Swan then people are right to hate me, and as much as I don't care for the people at this school, that would mean I'm destined to be despised. Then… I'll never have friends, I'll never be included, I-"

"That's stupid! You already have like a shiton of friends" he started to count on his hand.

"You have me, Faybelle, that one ballet girl-"

"I don't think Justine sees me as a friend, I would say rival at best"

"Doesn't matter, you also have… hm. Well, you don't have many friends but you have good friends" 

"You can't just self proclaim yourself as a good friend, Bird brain, that's not how this works"

"I'm trying to be nice here. Take the fucking compliment"

"Okay" she rolled her eyes, but with the smallest smile. He was right, like it or not, she didn't make much friends but she would do anything for the few ones that she had.

"Besides you can" he changed his voice to a poor imitation of Raven Queen "choose your own destiny" she gasped.

"Are you suggesting I become a Rebel?" Asked as if his words alone were a crime. 

"I am, but if that's too commoner for you, then let's just say no. I'm saying you still have time to decide if you want to be a white or a black swan. Or a bit of both, whatever"

"A villain and a hero…" she reflected on those words. As contradictory as it sounded it also didn't sound… wrong. "A bit like you then?"

"That's offensive" he exclaimed, a bit too loudly "I'm not a hero!" 

"Well you did save my mood" she playfully tilted his hat making it fall over his eyes "so it's a start" 

"Keep doing that and I'll tell everyone that I saw you crying" threatened as he fixed the green hat.

"Do that and I'm taking your guitar for a dip in the lake" joked with a mischievous smile getting back on her feet.

"You wouldn't!" Said, now sounding genuinely offended. 

"Try me, bird brain" replied, already on her way to the door "anyway, bye, I need to find some way to have my revenge for Apple, when I need you for the plan I'll let you know" and with those words she left, not before doing a gracious spin, showing that she really was in a good mood again. He rolled his eyes, but with a smile.

He was a good friend, the Duchess thought to herself. But it's not like she would ever say that out loud.

[west-tokyo-incidents]

Of all things, Paresse had never expected to see another version of himself. He's still not sure it was real.

Especially not like this. Half destroyed and barely hanging on, sphere hemorrhaging the soul within through cracks just too big enough to be salvageable, eyes full of tears, something about his outline jerking and glitching like he's a hologram struggling to materialize.

"Protect them."

"Who?"

He doesn't know why he asks. He knows. His self makes a face. This duplicate of himself knows that, too.

"Protect them." He repeats, angrier, with a scrambled mechanical noise, his voicebox damaged. He winces, "Forget your sin. Something bigger is coming. Just. Save them."

The blackness fades out and the corpse left behind is no more. Flickering out of existence. Leaving him alone in the alleyway, staring at the damp remains of trash, stinking of stagnant water from the rains three days ago.

"Hey! Useless idiot douji, what're you doing?"

Paresse looks up, Mizho much further ahead on the road. Right... They're on their way to the meeting at Sparrow Place. She must not have seen what he saw and kept walking, while he had frozen in place.

He doesn't know if he should tell her, so just starts walking again. She snorts at him, annoyed, and they keep going.

He doesn't forget, though.

He feels Jealousy's eyes burning into him the entire meeting, but he ignores it. His eyes are too busy staying focused on Rage and Fusataro.

Rage calls him out on it. Calls him a creep again.

Forget your sin.

Paresse just huffs, "You and your master quit being pretty, then."

Desir bursts out laughing voicing an agreement, Fusataro chokes on an intake of smoke, Mizho groans, and Rage sputters, genuinely flustered.

He feels Jealousy's eyes shift away from him.

He gets closer to them, watchful for danger. He tells Mizho what he saw eventually. The four grow closer than anything. Paresse eventually tells them, too. He feels happiness, joy even. He understands how Vice feels about Kia, now...

He understands why it ends like it does.

It's useless. Nothing could have stopped it this time. Especially not a tired, jaded war veteran of a sloth douji left on his own.

He hates himself as he's left, half broken and dying, staring at the distant form of Rage’s ICON, torn to pieces a strewn across across dead city. He knows the fate of the master inside, too. Her scream echos in his head. His own master's corpse is sitting in his chest. Even after losing them, like Vice had lost her, he was no match for the end.

He hears that end roaring, like static in his ears before Rage's lightning strikes, like the rushing sound of the ocean before a tsunami.

As he slips away, he hates himself, more than anything, for asking that vision of himself 'who?'

Instead of 'how?'

[itunesbooks]

Her Doctor Mate - Tasha Black

Her Doctor Mate Seasoned Shifters #3 Tasha Black Genre: Paranormal Price: $2.99 Expected Publish Date: April 18, 2019 Publisher: 13th Story Press Seller: Steven C. Voelker He craves her madly, but she’s only pretending to be his... Dr. Ryan Stevenson has a dream career and a house to match. By day he saves lives at Springton Hospital. By night he runs with the Tarker’s Hollow wolf pack. But from the moment he lays eyes on grad student Addison, the rest of his life feels meaningless. He knows that only Addison can fill the emptiness in his heart and bed. But her innocence makes him fear she won’t be able to handle the truth about what he wants. When Ryan's dying grandmother asks if there is anyone special in his life, he accidentally spills the beans about his newfound love, but doesn't mention the fact that his intended mate isn’t aware of his feelings.  Addison Sparrow is head over heels for Dr. Stevenson, but he seems to deliberately ignore the electricity between them. When his grandmother unexpectedly arrives in town for Thanksgiving week, Addison is shocked that Ryan asks her to pretend to be his fiancée. But she finds herself unable to refuse an opportunity to spend more time with the sexy doctor.  As the events of the season throw them together, Addison and Ryan must put on a cheerful face for Grandma Stevenson, even as their close contact throws them into a tsunami of temptation. Will Dr. Stevenson keep playing it cool? Or will his desire for Addison push the bubbling tension between them to the boiling point? Experience Required.  If you like wolves, magic, strong women, and alphas with experience, you’re going to love Seasoned Shifters , set in the steamy shifter world of Tarker’s Hollow .  Her Teacher Mate Her Lawyer Mate Her Doctor Mate Her Professor Mate http://bit.ly/2XlvDpK