#samic

[sugarbear2001]

I might need to write a fic about Samira and Eric; their chemistry is insane.

[possessivesuffix]

Crossposting from Twxttxr: some interesting news about ongoing research by colleagues, from a workshop "Diversification of Uralic" just this Thursday and Friday

Do the Permic languages have loanwords from Old Norse? e.g. ONo. ár ~ Komi & Udmurt ar 'year'. This would've been sensible during the brief time when Norsemen originally from Sweden were in charge of trade along the Volga and settling in inner Russia, forming the Rus' (later Slavicized, but as we know from Byzantine sources they remained Norse for centuries) — and also the Norwegians too were known to conduct exploration + trade along the Barents Sea at the time, our oldest written reports of "Bjarmia" come from them after all.

Do the Finnic languages have loanwords already from Pre-Proto-Germanic into Pre-Proto-Finnic? My first reply would've been "yes surely", this has been discussed for half a century and there's dozens of etymologies out by now. Turns out though that there's still a lot of room for skepticism if we try to assemble a big picture. Most of these could be (and have been proposed by other analyses) to be proper Germanic after all, or from some non-Germanic kind of Indo-European, or even incorrect. There is unambiguous evidence I think at least of loans lacking *ā > *ō, but that's already though to be one of the latest common Germanic innovations, perhaps barely post-PG. [Follow-up question: do we even know where Pre-Proto-Germanic was spoken? might not have been anywhere convenient for contacts with Pre-Proto-Finnic.] — A few similar problems also in the less discussed supposed layer of Proto-Balto-Slavic or pre-BSl. loans, but by areal considerations it seems obvious to me there must've been Uralic/IE contact somewhere in the Russian forest belt for ages already, even if it might not have left enough evidence to clearly distinguish from things like pre-Indo-Iranian loans.

Do the Samic languages have loanwords that are not from any historically attested branch of Scandinavian, but some sort of a lost variety entirely? This could be an explanation for an unexpected sound correspondence *j → *ć in many loans; it might also explain some loans that look surprizingly archaic, e.g. lacking any reflection of Siever's Law. One example showing both is indeed *Tāńćə 'Norse', from some sort of a *Danji- variant of Proto-Germanic *Daniz.

Several new hypotheses on the history of of sibilants in Ugric, adding to the growing tally of evidence that traditionally reconstructed *s > *θ and *ś > *s "in Proto-Ugric" are actually later developments. A paper supposed to be coming out soon!

No linguistic evidence so far, but a 1670 travelogue by de La Martinière appears to still report seemingly pre-Uralic populations along the Barents Sea coast — and even on Novaya Zemlya, traditionally thought to have been uninhabited (as reported by other early modern explorers) before some Tundra Nenets briefly settled there in mid 19th century. Apparently there's been no real archeological investigation, but also at least two stone labyrinths are known as signs that humans still must've at least visited there sometime in the past. [By current knowledge, labyrinths from Sweden and Finland have mostly been built in late medieval and early modern times though, so they don't suggest especial antiquity either. Could the ones on NZ in fact have been left behind by some of these historical Northwest European expeditions?]

Various discussion also on the development of Samoyedic. Nothing particularly all-new (maybe on Nganasan, more on that in a PhD thesis to appear later this year though), but a few main results include 1. clear recognition that there is no "North Samoyedic" group (as has been suspected for several years now), 2. confirmation that there is regardless a narrower Nenets–Enets group, and 3. some development of a model where all three of Nenets, Enets and Nganasan may have moved to the tundra zone independently from further down south (as is certainly the case for Northern Selkup, the most recent northern expansion of Samoyedic speakers).

[possessivesuffix]

If you're thinking about the "suprasegmental palatalization" of Skolt / Kildin / Ter Sami, yeah it goes leftward thru arbitrarily many consonants; but it does get realized also on them (yielding also a cross-linguistically rare /nʲ lʲ/ ≠ /ɲ ʎ/ contrast in the process), and is just a floating feature anyway instead of an entire segment, so would not really count as "metathesis" by any measure I think.

FWIW there are theories about locality-of-sound-change that attribute Germanic umlaut in particular and maybe metaphony in general to a similar process too, so that, say, *kukkaz >> *kokk goes thru *kukᵃkᵃaz first of all with an a-colored allophone of /k/ extended leftwards, and only then *u > o / _Cᵃ, but this also doesn't really involve metathesis of anything in there.

I have seen a 189X proposal that pre-Proto-Samic *-äC(C)e-, *-oC(C)e- >> modern Sami varieties' -ieC(C)â-, -uoC(C)â- would start by a way-leftward "metathetic metaphony" to *-êäCCê-, *-êoCCê- (circumflex for close-mid), but that's long since obsolete: lack of lowering and then unconditional *ä > *e > *ē > ie, *o > *ō > uo in stressed syllables works internally just as well and areally better (cf. *ee > ie, *oo > uo in Finnish; in Southern & Pite Sami, *ē > ie, *ō > uo also in unstressed syllables).

(conditioned-by-stress? seems kinda weird to call something "unconditional in X position" actually)

— Northern Finnish has varieties that metathesize *h pretty far leftwards, but all intermediates are on show in other dialects for it to be clear that it's really multiple metatheses all in a row; i.e. something like ⁽*⁾kirvehen (standard Fi kirveen, gen.sg. of kirves 'axe') > kirvhe(e)n > kirhven (phonetically variable, e.g. [kirfʋ̥en], [kirʰfen]). IIRC in most advanced forms in some particular phonological contexts even (equivalent of) > kihrven, but don't quote me on that just yet.

(Also, I'm sure if we left Northern Finnish alone for 500 more years we would find some varieties metathesizing this all the way further to word-initial aspiration.)

Yo linguists, anybody got languages where a segment regularly undergoes metathesis across multiple segments of a given class, or anything basically equivalent to that? A plausible example that comes to mind is like [+high]C₀V -> [+high]C₀ʲV -> [+high]C₀jV, or perhaps jC₀V -> C₀ʲV -> C₀jV, or anything of that general nature. I just need features jumping across substrings of arbitrary lengths. @yeli-renrong @siberian-khatru-72 @possessivesuffix? I vaguely recall something like this from... some Sámi language?

[dremlikpocesku]

Drahý čumblre, máme tu zase ornitologické okénko, protože, prosím pěkně, cestou na vlak jsem u nás na Sázavě narazila na trans kačera.

Začneme základy - samce kachny divoké od samice odlišíme takřka vždy s naprostou jistotou podle zobáku, který je u samců sytě žlutý, zatímco u samic je zabarven do oranžova nebo hněda a většinou na sobě má tmavé skvrny. Proč se řídit podle barvy zobáku a ne prostě podle toho, že je samice celá hnědá, zatímco samec má výraznou zelenou hlavu a tak dále? To proto, že na jaře začnou samci přepeřovat a "obléknou si" krycí šat, který je shodný se zbarvením samic. Právě v tuto chvíli se dají kačeři od kachen rozpoznat právě jen podle toho zobáku.

A teď k jedinci na fotce. Když se podíváte na zobák, můžete vidět, že je oranžový s tmavými skvrnami, tedy typicky samičí. Zbarvení peří by ale odpovídalo na samce, byť hlava není zelená celá, ale je zelené pouze její temeno a zátylek. Na tom však není nic až tak zvláštního, v období přepeřování samci pochopitelně nemají hned zase zelenou celou hlavu.

Problém je v tom, že teď je únor. A v únoru už mají kačeři přepeřování do svatebního šatu dávno za sebou, jedince, co nemá zelenou kebuli, byste na rybníce hledali horko těžko. A druhým problémem je tedy "nesmyslná" kombinace zabarvení zobáku vůči zabarvení peří.

Takže... Co se stalo? Inu, tenhle jedinec se docela jistě vylíhl jako kachna, samice. A s největší pravděpodobností mu v průběhu života selhal vaječník, specificky levý (ono totiž ptáci jiný ani nemají). V těchto případech dochází k tomu, že jedinec začne přebírat chování samců a zároveň tedy i jejich zbarvení, je temperamentnější, dokonce se i může snažit spářit s kachnami-samicemi. A teď k tomu komplikovanějšímu a ne tak probádanému. Podle všeho u těchto kachen může dojít i k tomu, že jim naroste penis, který by dle všeho mohl být zřejmě i funkční. Bohužel se toho o této problematice neví tolik, aby se to dalo říci s naprostou spolehlivostí.

Ještě bych chtěla dodat, že trans nemusejí být jen kachny divoké, ale třeba i jiné druhy vrubozobých. Tento jev byl zaznamenán například ještě u kachniček mandarínských, kterých je jen tak mimochodem jak nas*áno v Brně.

[possessivesuffix]

Confirming much later: yes lah táágu is clearly Inari, you can also tell from the word-final h which doesn't exist in Northern Sami orthography either, where 'you are' is leat (even if in many dialects still pronounced [lea̯h] rather than [lea̯ʰt]).

Tangentially, áá is by now kind of vestigial in written Inari really; it used to stand for distinct /aː/, but this merged with /æː/ (ää) in the mid-20th century — probably since that's the closest equivalent in Finnish phonology, which has been influencing the development of Inari Sami for a solid few centuries now.

Will not openly spoil the phraselist here, turns out I can figure out about a third of the Skolt just from knowing general comparative Samic and it becomes fairly easy really once given also the English translations…

Greenlandic-Skolt Saami phrase list

Hopefully all you Greenlanders/Nigerians found my previous Kalaallisut (Greenlandic)-Yorùbá phrase list useful, although with a combined total of 30 million speakers it’s probably a bit mainstream, so I thought I’d offer up a short Greenlandic-Skolt Saami phrase list to commemorate another recent trip I took.  Combined speakers of both languages are about 57,500 (sadly in a ratio of about 115:1), but unlike the last list there are probably a few more things culturally in common between these groups in terms of lifestyle, given their common Northern latitudes.

Greenlandic (Kalaallisut) - Skolt Saami (Nuõrttsäämas) phrase list

Ippernaq ataaseq qasulerpoq.      Õhtt čuõškk levvji. 

Sivisuumik angalavoq.   Mäˊtǩǩ leäi kuˊǩǩ.

Arsarnerit tuttut nerisimavaat.     Kuuskõõzz leˊjje ääld poorrâm. 

Aputeqaqaaq.      Jõnn muõtt lij.

Uinngiarneq inerteqqutaavoq.    Njorggam jiâ sååvaž sij.

—

The sentences are:

A. The journey was long.

B. There is a lot of snow.

C.  One mosquito grew weary.

D. They do not allow whistling.*

(* I should imagine.) 

E. The Northern Lights had eaten the reindeer.

—

All very useful phrases! But they are not in the same order as the Greenlandic - Skolt Saami phrase list above. A special mention to anyone who can solve the challenge and put A-E in the right order!

Note also that the second language on the border sign is Skolt Saami, and it is also the third language on the map. The second language on the map is probably Inari Sami (Anarâš) - I believe Inari Sami has a double “á” but North Sami does not, but would probably need someone else to confirm this.  

(Skolt Saami phrases taken from: A Grammar of Skolt Saami, Feist, T. (2010).    It’s a recommended read!)

[bottnarna]

Ante Aikio: How did Lapland become Saami? Reconstructing the interaction of Proto-Saami, Proto-Norse and Palaeo-Laplandic language communities in the Iron Age

Unfortunately a presentation and not a full paper, although a very interesting one nonetheless.

[internet-goblin]

Princezna Angelína totální sigma samice. Plně fixovaná na mamon a vlastni obohacení, žádný štráchy s tím. Když si ji odnese čert, tak mu na féra řekne, že na něj nevěří. Sbalí knížete pekel na svatbě vlastní ségry. Ikonické chování. Vrcholové královnino hovno.

[piercexd]

Samic and shadow🦔‼️🎉

[13as07]

Dearest #1

Gaara Sabaku

[Artwork is not mine! Credit to Samice]

Requested by: Anonymous

Word Count: 4,081 Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

It’s sort of what you asked for; same themes as my Birthright story but darker in a sense? It’s less unaware/returned love and more abuse aware/unwanted alinement story lined

Nick Name(s): Dearest, Little Hare, Bastard, Lord

Sibling Incest

Father/Child Incest

Betrothals

Verbal, Physical and Sexual Abuse

Rape (oral and intercourse)

Hair Pulling

Let me know if you want more parts

———————————————————————

“What’s the point of marriage?” Our Lord booms, his voice reaching every corner of his bed chambers. My eyes roll before I can stop them, getting me a pointed look from my Maid and I’m sure a silent prayer sent to her God, thanking him for having my Father’s back facing me.

“To show our solidarity to the village,” Kankuro – the oldest of my brothers – answers, his tone as lazy as the limbs he has hanging off our Father’s reading chair. The blazing sun shines through the large windows that make up a wall of the bedroom, lighting up the purple streaks on his face like fireworks. My Maid always says it’s unfaithful that I insist Temari got the better of our brothers, but that doesn’t stop me from holding the thought. She’s not the one that has to deal with Garra’s tantrums and mood swings.

“To waste my time and take my freedom,” the oldest of the batch grumbles, getting a pointed look from her maid in response. It also gets her a glare from our Father, who focuses on the four of us instead of the overview of the village he gets from his wall of windows. Way to go Temari.

“To increase our power,” Gaara answers this time, his eyes flicking toward me. The emptiness of his features quickly sharpens with anger, his eyes torn away from me quick enough that I’m almost convinced he didn’t actually look at me.

Our Lord’s patience is wearing thin, Gaara’s anger reflecting on our Father’s face.

“To produce,” I butt in, trying to smooth out the anger quickly bubbling into the room, for once not just coming from my brother. “An heir for the village,” I add on, my hand fluttering in a fast rhythm to fan myself.

It’s one of my favorite ‘gifts’ from Gaara – my hand fan. Its main color is a dark red with pale sandy-colored lace framing the top edges and the transition from the fan itself to the gold metal that spreads the material out. It’s as elegant as everything else I own, showing off the generational wealth my family has built throughout the centuries of leading the village. Not to mention it makes a good nervous tick; it’s not like anyone would find a Desert Princess fanning herself weird.

“For when Gaara and I are no longer capable of ruling. Than Kankuro’s and Temari’s children - ”

“Child,” my sister cuts me off, her anger adding to the glares aimed at me.

“ - will stand as a spare, in case tragedy strikes us. Sickness, war, death, or anything else Gaara is unable to protect us from.”

“There’s nothing I’m incapable of protecting you from, Dearest,” Gaara growls, the venom in his voice so thick I can almost see it spilling past his lips. If I didn’t know any better I’d think he’s possessed by a venomous river frog instead of a one-tailed sand raccoon. Egotistical little as –

“Good job, my Little Hare,” Our Lord coos, his anger melting back into his usual expression of disinterest and disappointment. At least it’s better than his anger.

I despise the nickname Father has given me. It’s a play on two things; his wish for Gaara and me ‘to breed like rabbits’ and my shinobi style - or lack thereof. I don’t have a unique hobby like Kankuro, I’m not “in touch” with wind chakra like Temari, and I don’t have a beast settled next to my soul like Gaara; I have the speed of a rabbit and a good handle on how to use a knife. The moral of the story, I do well at basic taijutsu and ninjutsu, not so much the flashy stuff.

Not that it matters any. Father says being an active shinobi “risks the future of our village”. When I point out Gaara being active does the same thing, it tends to get me a lecture and one too many bruises. I think he just doesn’t care enough to give me the same training as my siblings. He makes it pretty clear that they’re the prodigy children of Karura, a strong shinobi of our village, whereas I’m the daughter of a civilian of our village, with no special chakra to “bless me with the skills of a shinobi”. Besides a good consort looks pretty and soothes her Kazekage’s mind. All I “need” is the ability to protect myself until Gaara can get to me.

It’s bullshit.

A lot better bullshit than if my Mother would have had a boy. Rasa needed a wife for his heir, not a bastard son.

I think that’s why Temari and me butt heads so much. She sees her betrothal to Kankuro and position as my advisor as a cage, whereas I see my betrothal to Gaara and my position as Consort Kasekage as a blessing, even if it does act as a double-sided sword. That, and the distaste of it being soaked in the anger of my siblings and Father alike. The only one who seems to not care is my oldest brother. If anything, he seems thrilled with the idea of Gaara becoming the next leader of our village instead of himself.

“Since you’re so smart, Little Hare, what makes a good wife?” Our Lord’s question ticks anger up my spine. I’m capable of being more than a good wife, more than his bastard of a daughter.

“That depends on what Gaara considers a good wife,” I answer, my fan flicking faster as my anger grows. Screw Rasa for being an abusive paranoid control freak, screw Gaara for living, screw Karura for dying, and screw my Mother for having no spine. Life wouldn’t have been that bad as a peasant girl.

“That’s a political answer.”

“I’m being raised to excel at political duties, am I not?”

“You’re being raised with a smart mouth,” My Father hisses, the anger I always see in Gaara leaking out of the man in front of me. “Do not think just because I graced you with the title of future consort, that you get to speak to me how you wish. You’re still nothing more than a bastard, only useful to be bred and beaten. Perhaps you need to be reminded of that.”

My anger quickly ices over with fear, the fan in my hand falling still as Our Lord marches across the room, beelining toward me. “I assure you I don’t need to be reminded, Father,” I rush out, my tongue feeling heavy and my feet feeling glued to the floorboards.

“Oh,” he cackles, a smug smile crossing his face. The sharpness of his teeth and the wickedness of his expression only dripping more fear into me. “So now you think you know better than me?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“But it is,” Father’s chilled voice caresses me, his footsteps stopping inches away from me. His hand moves slowly, almost kindly as it runs along my hip, crawling up the side of my body. “Maybe I’ve been too lenient with you, Little Hare.”

Absolutely not.

It’s a constant reminder to me that my Father favors Temari over me, just as it is with Gaara and Kankuro. He’d be a happier man if he stopped after two; his respectful, golden child, legitimate daughter, and his first-born son, the spitting image of himself.

It doesn’t take long for Our Lord’s hand to stop being gentle, harshness quickly replacing the almost loving touches. His fingers jump up, fisting a chunk of my hair he uses to drag me across the room.

“I’m so sick of my children being disrespectful brats!” He screams, the volume of his voice seeming capable of shaking the whole room.

My fan falls out of my hand, the band wrapped around my wrist and connected to the bottom of the item stopping it from falling to the ground. “Father, please,” My begging begins, my hands now busy trying to loosen his hold, or at the very least, soften the ache starting to form at my roots. “I didn’t mean anything disrespectful by it.”

“Now you’re calling me a lair!” He shrieks, throwing me onto the bed situated in the middle of his chambers. There’s no time to get my balance before Father is over me, his frame pushing into my back, pinning me to the perfectly made sheets. “I’m lying. You’re not disrespectful, I’m simply lying!” He continues to yell, his hands shoving their way between myself and the bed.

“I’m sorry! I won’t disrespect you again, I promise, Father. Please!” I wail, my hands gripping the bedding, trying to drag myself out from under him; it was a dumb mistake, one that only angers him more.

“And now you’re trying to get away from your punishment! I should have listened to my advisor when he told me not to have another child, but no. I wanted to show my love for my son, to give him a fraction of what his birth promised, to at least let him have his wife since everything else was gifted to his brother. Do you not want me to love your brother?”

“Of course I - ”

My mind shuts off right alongside my tongue at the feeling of Rasa’s fingertips wrapping around my waistband, shoving down my bottoms and everything under them in one harsh movement. My thighs sizzle at the roughness of the material against them before they too fall quiet.

I so wish my mind would stay off, but I’m not blessed enough for that to happen. It turns back on at the sound of him moving behind me, his clothes shuffling around until they join mine on the ground, still wrapped around our ankles.

“Apologize,” he hisses, his hands firm on my hips as he lines himself with my body. “Apologize,” Rasa repeats, his tip making itself known, sliding back and forth through my intimates with the threat to push in.

“Father,” Gaara’s grizzly bear voice rings out, stalling my assaulter’s actions and pulling my attention toward him. His eyes are hard, sand turned to stone because of the storms going on around it. His chest pumps faster than usual, his temper shown from the strain of his muscles to the beat of his lungs. “Don’t you think she’s been punished enough?”

He stays frozen for a moment, almost shocked to hear his youngest son speak to him. Maybe he is shocked. I can only remember three – maybe four – times my brother has ever directly spoken to our Father, all of which held tones of anger and resentment, unlike now. Now, his voice is even, calm, almost deadly as he makes his thoughts known.

“No, I don’t,” Our Lord finally responds, shoving himself into me. My eyes water, tears decorating the edge as the pain sets in, already starting the aches that’ll live between my thighs for the next week. “But you are more than welcome to take your sister’s spot and be a good husband to her.”

For a second hope flickers through me before I remember the type of family I was born into, before I forget it’s my own Father causing this torment, before I’m able to forget my brothers and sister are present in the room and the only one that said anything said it out of ownership, not protectiveness.

Gaara’s eyes lag on me before he pulls them away again, glaring out the windows lightening up the room. His jawline pops out from his tan skin, just another body part feeling his rage instead of our Father. How can he instant he can protect me from anything and then turn a blind eye to an assault within the same five minutes? He truly is his Mother’s child, turning a blind eye to Rasa’s behaviors.

My body turns aflame, following every touch to it, trying to burn the sensation off my skin. It doesn’t do much, only leaves me more uncomfortable as I play an unmoving part in my own life.

Our Lord wastes no time making himself feel good. He thrusts his hips against mine, filling the silent room with the sound of his skin slapping against mine. His pants for breath ghost over my ear, acting as another reminder of the dog he is. One hand grips the fat of my hip, promising his fingerprints to be left behind as the other one skates up my back, finally resting a grip around the back of my neck, my hair cut between and being pulled in time with the pattern he’s set.

My body refuses to ease up and accept the assault, my muscles tightening every passing moment. Like usual, Father takes this as a challenge, shoving himself into me hard to chase what little euphoria he has left in life. To no one’s surprise, my body gives in quicker than his determination, parts of me ripping and dripping out slow but thick salted drops of blood. Finally, my tears drop alongside my bloodshed, my eyes decorating the sheets as my wounds decorate the bed skirt.

“You truly are good for breeding, do you know that?” Rasa asks, more of his weight pushing into my body, the weight added to his grip threatening to snap my neck under the pressure. “Gaara is a lucky man.”

My eyes focus well enough to stare at my betrothed, something I almost regret doing. His body is still tight, eyes still glaring out the windows as the sand ever present around him slithers, spinning around him like a tornado threatening to start another storm that’ll leave the manor with a month’s worth of repairs. Slowly, my eyes tear away from him, skipping through the room before settling on my oldest brother. Kankuro’s body isn’t any loser, his once loose arms are now formed into steel, trying to choke out the parts of the chair they’re wrapped. His eyes flicker quickly, almost as if to fight back tears he refuses to let Father see.

When I can’t take the sight any longer, my eyes switch focus again, searching the room for my sister, searching the room for her understanding. After all, her favoritism might save her from punishments as harsh as mine, but it doesn’t save her from punishments like mine. When I find Temari, her attention is already set on me, eyes glued to Our Lord and me. Her expression is set and so deep you could mistake her for a marble statue. It almost seems like envy is what she’s holding so close, but that can’t be it. It must be a play on the light or a screwed vision from the tears still dropping out of my eyes.

“Dear Gods, Little Hare,” Rasa rumbles, his grip on me tightening before he uses it to shove me down, forcing me to meet his hips. The pain the added force causes is enough to force a yelp out of my throat, a sound that’s encouraged by a grumbled moan that silks across my cheek. “You’re a useful whore like your mother,” the insult spills out right along with his sperm that warms my inners and makes the wounds he caused to sting instead of just ache.

A laugh echoes in the room that’s been left silent since Father stopped moving. The sound seeming like nails on a chalkboard, pulling everyone’s heads toward my sister. The giggle ends instantly like it wasn’t supposed to exist in the first place. If it wasn’t for everyone else looking at her, I’d think I made it up.

“What’s so funny Temari?” Rasa asks, slowly lifting the weight of his body off of me.

“Nothing,” she rushes out, her voice shaking and eyes skating around the room, trying to look anywhere but Father.

“It was funny enough for you to laugh,” he points out, slowly dragging himself out of me, taking his time so he can soak up the feeling of me unwillingly wrapped around him. “Maybe you need your mouth cleaned out, it should help you tell the truth easier.”

“Father,” my sister murmurs, our abuser’s attention on her long enough for me to squeeze out from under him. He doesn’t notice or simply doesn’t care now that he’s caught himself another child to fixate on.

I scurry off the bed, my movements repeatedly tripped by the clothing still wrapped around my feet. Despite the obstacle setting me back, I still beeline for Gaara, or more specifically, his sand, like I’ve been conditioned to my whole life. As expected, the element meets me the second my foot touches the floor, the grainy material wrapping under me to keep our Father’s touch and the eyes of everyone off of me.

It wipes at the blood seeping from me quicker than before, doing its best to soak the stickiness caused by both Rasa’s and my bodily fluids. The next layer to wrap around me does its best to shove my clothes up, making it easier to dart towards its’ owner.

A cry bubbles in my throat when my body collides with his, even if his muscles are still pulled tight and his body heat reflects the temper brewing below his skin. If it was possible, Gaara would draw himself tighter because of my touch against him, but he can’t, so he doesn’t. He simply waves his hand, his sand slithering between us to pull my body off of him without the need to touch me himself. “Pull yourself together, Dearest,” his whisper is harsh but soft, barely audible over the mixed sound of Temari crying, Kankuro yelling, and the tsking sound of his sand moving around us. “You’re just setting yourself up to his target again.”

Tears well in my eyes again, my body craving the comfort I haven’t received since being ripped from my Mother. How long has it been now? Two years? Five? Ten? The world seems to move differently, being confined to the manor and left alone. My presence is rarely requested, demanded for village events, martial and political lessons – like this was supposed to be, the off chance Father is bored and wishes to bred me, or the almost nonexistent times Gaara wishes for company.

Gaara’s sand releases me, its layers thinning out slowly as if it doesn’t want to release us from the shelter it’s providing. Sadly, it does eventually stop its safety, choosing to worm figure eights between our feet instead.

My attention is pulled to the scene in the middle of the room, despite not wanting to focus on it. I can’t help it though, even if I wish I could.

Father has settled on the bed, his legs spread wide enough to force my sister between them, her head shoved down by the hand he has gripping the ends of her ponytails. Temari’s hands grip his thighs, her nails digging into them as she chokes down the part of him that was just forced into me. I can feel the sickness settle in the back of my throat as I think of the taste of him and my blood mixed on her tastebuds.

Her gargles are mostly covered by the sound of Kankuro fighting with our father, his voice screaming for him to stop and let Temari go. His yells are all he has to fight back at the moment, Our Lord’s sand wrapped around his son, using the element to hold him in place. Still, our brother tries to fight it off, struggling to free his joints from the position they’re stuck in. All Father does in return is chuckle, his hand jerking up and down to force his oldest daughter to shift up and down himself.

Despite the scene in front of me, all I can feel is jealousy and envy, rooted in the fact that even though Kankuro knows he can’t do anything to stop Father, he still tries. That’s more than Gaara has and will ever do for me. At least Temari knows her betrothed loves her, well mine wouldn’t even use his sand to try to put the fire out if my clothes caught.

Temari got the better of our brothers and I don’t care if that makes me unfaithful.

“If you care so much I’ll give you the same proposal I gave your brother; you are welcome to take her spot, to show her the sacrifices a husband is supposed to make for his wife.” Rasa’s eyes settle on us during the second half of his little speech, his words shooting daggers into Gaara like he failed a test set just for him. Maybe he did, but I doubt it. Our Father is a man who likes to cause pain in any way possible.

“Gladly.”

The single word that probably lights Temari with gratitude, boils my blood with more jealousy, especially when Rasa allows it. Within the blink of an eye, my sister is curled on the ground, coughing and huffing for air while Kankuro quickly slides into her place, his hands softer against our shared parent’s thighs and his mouth sliding into place without the force our sister needed to “encourage” her to provide.

“One of these days,” the voice of the cruelest man I know, comes out softer than it has all day. “I need to enjoy my favored son and favored daughter at the same time.”

Good riddance.

Maybe if Temari was put through the same torture as me, just once, she wouldn’t laugh at my pain so easily.

Almost complete silence fills the room again, the perfection destroyed by the slushy sound of Kankuro providing and the occasion cough from my sister. Even the fractions of perfections are destroyed, smashed even smaller by Father’s small curses as he finishes down his favored son’s throat.

Just as I did, my older brother jerks away from Rasa, putting as much distance between himself and the monster without tempting him to lose his control again.

“Get out,” the monster hisses almost instantly, his chest still popping from his wind down.

He doesn’t have to ask us twice, the four of us quickly heading toward the door. Luckily for me, I’m the first one to slide out, my Maid hot on my heels. Temari quickly follows, her servant in tow too. Kankuro follows his wife close behind, his steps filled with more anger than fear, unlike the butler he’s occupied to serve him while in the manor. Gaara is the only one that lags, his steps stopping as soon as the door slams shut.

I glance over my shoulder for a moment, catching a glimpse of my ordered lover whispering to Baki – my siblings’ trainer – before the jonin starts his path toward me. Fear grips my chest, egging to move faster, to get to my room sooner, to itch more with the feeling of Rasa’s touch still on my skin.

“Lady Sabaku!” Baki yells after me, the sound of his shoes picking up pace echoing down the hallway. I pretend not to hear him, almost dashing down the corridors of the manor.

When the last corner to my room grows closer, the fear in my chest loosens.

At least it does until I turn the corner and slam straight into Gaara. My balance breaks, quickly put back together when his sand wraps around me, stabling me before I can fall. “It’s impolite to ignore someone when they’re speaking to you.”

“You would know, wouldn’t you?” I snap, my tongue hanging loose before I gather myself enough to restrain it.

His eyes flicker closed, the hands clinging to his biceps tightening just like the sand wrapped around me. As soon as the pressure is present against my body, it’s wiped away, Gaara’s sand falling to dance around my feet instead of clinging to my skin. “Dearest,” he hisses, the ever-present venom thicker now than it was in our Father’s room.

“Gaara.”

His eyes snap open, the green of his irises digging into my soul, slowly ripping it apart piece by piece. “Baki will be providing you medical attention.”

“Maybe I don’t want it.”

A hackle of a laugh spills from my assigned husband, a smile wicked enough to compete with Rasa’s spreading across his face. “You haven’t figured it out by now? You have no choices in your life. You do what you’re told regardless of who here gives you the orders. This is especially true when our darling Father or I give them. You’re nothing more than property, Dearest.”

———————————————————————

[hana-loves-bumblebees]

Kdo vymyslel, že samice od psa je fena??? Jako pardon, ale naprosto jistě to měla být ✨psina✨

[tiredpoet7]

15.11

700 kcal, 10.000 kroków, 30 minut ćwiczeń

bardzo dużo dzisiaj się u mnie działo lol

jako że pamięć mam raczej słabą, to pewnie pominę połowę wydarzeń. zacznijmy więc od momentu jak wyszłam ze szkoły, kulturalnie czekałam na przystanek i pewien powszechnie znany facet w okolicy zagadał do mnie i koleżanki. powszechnie znany — ma on prawdopodobnie coś nie tak z głową, jest bardzo pozytywny, NAIWNY i szuka dziewczyny. pyta się każdą napotkaną samice o numer telefonu xD. zapytał czy mamy jakieś ładne wolne koleżanki, a moja kochana znajoma wskazała na mnie, mówiąc, że nikogo nie mam. wjebała mnie porządnie, więc zaczęłam się tłumaczyć, jak to nie jestem świeżo po zerwaniu i nie jestem gotowa na związek. wpadłyśmy jednak na genialny pomysł i podałyśmy mu numer do "Natalii lat 19" która oczywiście nie istnieje. numer należy do chłopaka tej koleżanki, który nieźle się zdziwi jak dziś zadzwoni do niego jakiś napalony facet xDD

po szkole od razu pojechałyśmy z siostrą i mamą na cmentarz, a potem do ciotki posiedzieć. bawiłam się z 10 letnią kuzynką która ma przyznam talent do jakiś rękodzieł. sama robi świeczki, bransoletki, jakieś maskotki z włóczki i oczywiście zostałam hojnie obdarowana. najwięcej mam chyba świątecznych naklejek. mój case na telefon wygląda jakbym kupiła go w wiosce świętego Mikołaja.

następnie zajrzałysmy do mieszkania babci i dla mojej mamy było to bardzo ciężkie, ja też niechętnie siedziałam tam przez atmosferę. odmówiłam wybrania się na jedzenie, mało o nim myślałam, a wieczorem udało mi się zrobić trening. 20 minut takiego czystego spalania i 10 pilatesu. umieram ze stresu przed francuskim, ale postanowiłam tylko szybko sobie powtórzyć. uczyłam się codziennie od niedzieli i nie powinnam dostać złej oceny. w każdym razie życzcie mi proszę powodzenia xD

[sm0lg1rl]

Dobra obiecany post z pasożytami którymi można się zarazić przez nieumyte warzywa i owoce oraz brudną wode

1)Glista ludzka

Po połknięciu w jelicie z jaja wykluwa się larwa i migruje przez sciane jelita z krwią do wątroby, potem do płuc-> powodują kaszel. Są odksztuszane i spowrotem połykane. Potem larwy są znowu w jelicie i tam dojrzewają a samice produkują jaja(ok 200tys dziennie!!)

Objawy:

Na początku bezobjawowy, dopiero jak sje dostaną do płuc do jest kaszel z plwoxina podbarwiona krwią

Poza tym to: bóle brzucha, nudności, brak apetytu, wymioty, biegunka. A toksyny wydzielane z glisty powodują objawy neurologiczne- bezsennosc, drgawki, pobudzenie, i alergiczne- pokrzywki, obrzęk powiek, zapalenie spojówek.

Również powiększenie brzucha(bo gdzieś te robaki muszą się zmiescic), czasami niedroznosc jelit- czyli masz zapchane jelita glistami, a podczas wymiotow czopowany jest przelyk

W masywnej glistnicy te robaki muszą w końcu wychodzić i robią to przez otwory w ciele- wszystkie serio

2)Włosogłówka

Objawy: niewielka infekcja(<100)bezobjawowo, w cięższych przypadkach- krwawa biegunka, nudności, czasami wypadnecie odbytu, przewlekła choroba może prowadzić do duża utrata krwi co może prowadzić do anemii

3)Toksoplasmoza

Nie tylko możemy się tym zarazić przez joty(żywiciel ostateczny) ale też i przez kurczaka, krowę i inne ssaki i ptaki(zywiciel posredni)

Objawy: gorączka, wysypka, powiększenie wątroby i śledziony, wymioty i biegunka, zaburzenia widzenia

A u osób z obniżona odpornością może jeszcze być zapalenia płuc, naczyniówki i siatkowki

4)Kryptosporadioza

Źródłem zakarzenia jest zazwyczaj zanieczyszczona woda(pitna i jakieś baseny)

Objawy: samoograniczająca się biegunka, gorączka, wymioty, utrata masy ciała, duszności i kaszel

5)Pełzakowica jelitowa

Tym akurat abytnio nie zarazisz się przez brudne jedzenie(jednak jest to mozliwe) ale głównie przez kąpanie się w brudnej wodzie

Ogólnie to bezobjawowo, ale przy ostrej pelzakowict wystepuje: krwawe biegunki, bóle brzucha nudności, wzdęcia, biegunki 10/12x ma dobę, bolesne parcie na stolec, spadek masy ciała, a poważne zarażenie może prowadzić do śmierci przez perforację jelita cienkiego( czyli ci pęknie jelito). I w sumie najważniejsze to owrzodzenie jelita cienkiego

Również gdy jest już źle to wystepuje pelzakowate zapalenie wątroby, gdzie watroba jest powiększona i tworzy się ropień watroby

6)Tasiemczyca

Wywołany przez tasiemca uzbrojownego, zarazisz się jedząc zakażone mięsa świni

Może doprowadzić do wagrzycy mozgu: objawy neurologiczne, zaburzenia w krążeniu PMR, wodogłowie, napady padaczkowe. Też do wagrzycy galki ocznej- i wtedy albo z tym żyjesz albo wycinasz cała gałkę

Tasiemczyca- tasiemiec nieubrojowny, zarazisz się zjadając zakażone mięso krowy

Objawy: nudności, brak łaknienia lub nadmierny apetyt, bóle brzucha, spadek masy ciała, ale może być też beobjawowo

7)Echonokokoza/bąblowica

Wywoływane przez tasiemca bablowcowego. Zarazić się można przez spożywanie zwierząt roślinożernych

Lokalizacja: watroba, pluca, śledziona, mozg

Ogólnie powoduje on powstanie bąbla w którym się rozmnaża, a przy jego pęknięciu umierasz

Dobra mam nadzieję że was trochę kochane aniołki uświadomiłam. Trzymajcie się chudo🤍

[dremlikpocesku]

Obrázeček obrázek a popisek instagramovej (to abyste se mohli taky vzdělávat): I přes chřipku, kterou si z neznámých důvod nyní procházím, jsem napatlala tohle drobné zvířátko. Vakoveverka bezblaná je ohrožený druh malého vačnatce vyskytující se v Austrálii. Jejich budoucnost bohužel moc zářně nevypadá, dokonce se odhaduje, že do pár desítek let zcela vymřou. V minulosti se dokonce dlouhé roky věřilo, že už vyhynuly. Tyto vakoveverky žijí v rodinných skupinách čítající asi deset jedinců. Přes den spějí společně v jednom pelechu, v noci se vydávají shánět potravu, kterou tvoří různé bezobratlé potvůrky. Hlavou rodiny je matka. Ta ale bývá poněkud agresivní vůči ostatním členům rodiny, především vůči svým dcerám, přičemž čím jsou dcery starší, tím matčina agresivita vzrůstá. Musejí proto poměrně brzy opouštět hnízdo, což však ústí v poměrně vysokou mortalitu a také to, že počet samců v populaci je výrazně vyšší než počet samic. A proč to s nima jde z kopce? Stejně jako mnoho jiných zvířat nemají vakoveverky bezblané prostě a jednoduše kde žít. Jsou vázány na lesy a hlavně na tromy s dutinami. Tyto stromy jim poskytují nejen úkryt, ale jsou pro ně důležité i z hlediska potravy. Lesy v těchto končinách ohrožují nejen požáry, ale také těžaři, které nějaké "malé myšičky" samozřejmě ani v nejmenším nezajímají, protože dřevo je dřevo a peníze jsou peníze. A aby toho nebylo málo, ohrožují je ještě lovící toulavé, respektive zdivočelé kočky domácí, kterých je na australském kontinentu požehnaně. Záchranné programy samozřejmě existují, pokud se však nepovede zachovat lesy, v nichž vakoveverky bezblané žijí, pak jsou snahy záchranářů bohužel takřka bezcenné. A když vymřou vakoveverky bezblané, vymře i jeden druh blechy, který ani nemá český název - Stephanocircus domrowi, anglicky goblin flea. Žijí totiž právě jen a pouze na vakoveverkách bezblaných. Věděli jste, že suprčupr zdrojem obrázků (nejen) méně známých druhů zvířat je moje milovaná stránka inaturalist?!

[galleryofart]

The Samic Sibyl

Artist: Abraham Janssens (Flemish, 1575–1632)

The Samian Sibyl was the priestess presiding over the Apollonian oracle near Hera's temple on the Isle of Samos, a Greek colony. The word Sibyl comes (via Latin) from the ancient Greek word sibylla, meaning prophetess.