#it's 3 am and i've been looking up swears on google translate for two hours

[vesuvianvienna]

Linguistics

Okay, so first disclaimer, I don’t speak either Gaelic or Russian. I used Google Translate, so they aren’t going to be 100% accurate, but it���s a drabble for a fictional universe, so who cares right? There will be a translation key at the bottom. 

@arcana-dumpsterfire @anjatheapprentice @goatman-entrapment @bazzpop @fernleavesillustrator

The sound of something heavy being knocked to the ground and a sudden cry of pain had Julian leaping from his desk, his chair teetering back on two legs before toppling backwards. Long legs carried him with great haste to the kitchen where he had left Vienna, heart rising into his throat. She was bent over the sink, her hand plunged to the wrist in a bucket of water, and was shouting in a language he didn’t recognize.

"In ainm Dhia! Táim chun tú a chaitheamh san fharraige, píosa cac! Máithreachas!"

For a moment, he stood stunned, storm-grey eyes darting from Vienna to the stove to the small iron kettle she used to make tea lying in a puddle of steaming water on the floor. She was still muttering angrily, her brows pinched, eyes flashing venom-green. After a beat, he spoke, carefully avoiding the still-hot water as he crossed to her.

“Sweetheart, are you alright? What happened?”

Instantly, her eyes returned to their normal warm hazel and her expression smoothed out when she realized he was near, lifting her hand out of the water with a chagrined smile. “The handle snapped on the kettle and it burned me,” she explained, turning her arm to show him the angry red welt across the back of her hand. “Sorry if I startled you.”

“Not at all,” he assured her, gingerly taking her hand in his own to examine the burn; he had been startled, but now wasn’t the time to admit it. “Well, fortunately, I don’t think I’ll have to amputate.” His eyes flashed as he grinned, and her laugh dispelled the last of his worry. “An aloe compress should fix it right up.”

Julian, ever gentle, guided her to the table and sat her down while he snipped a small frond from the aloe plant she grew in a pot by the window, scraping out the clear gel inside into a clean piece of muslin and squeezing until it began to ooze through. Carefully, he applied the compress to her hand, wrapping a length of gauze around it to hold it in place. “So,” he began, his eyes steady on his work, “what exactly were you shouting?”

Her cheeks turned pink, her expression turning sheepish, like a child caught in an act of mischief. "Well...they weren't exactly phrases you'd hear in civilized company."

That cause the corner of his mouth to lift in a grin, tying off the gauze though he didn’t relinquish her hand just yet. "Since when have I ever been considered civilized company, darling?"

Vienna laughed softly, then with her cheeks still pink, she leaned forward and murmured the translation. Julian threw back his head and laughed, his shoulders shaking with the force of it. "I always knew you'd make a fantastic pirate; you can swear like a sailor already!" He brought her injured hand to his lips and kissed her fingertips, still chuckling. "You'll have to teach me how to properly swear in your native language, I've been meaning to expand my repertoire."

Vienna cocked her brow, the edges of her lips curling in turn. "Only if you'll teach me some in Nevivonian."

His lips pursed in thought as he grew silent, recalling a few of his favorites. “Well, one that Mazelinka liked to use was podlaya pizda. Then there’s ublyudok, sukin syn, mudak, and my personal favorite, sifiliticheskiy pridurok.” He ticked them off on his fingers, the strange language dripping off his tongue like rainwater, and Vienna didn’t realize she was staring until he gave her a questioning look. “Sweetheart, you’re blushing.”

Now that he said something, she did feel a bit warm around the neck. “It’s just...well, you don’t speak your native language very often, and it’s…” Her flush deepened a shade or two. “I may not know what you’re saying, but I like hearing you say it.”

He practically purred at her admission, reaching for her waist to draw her closer. “Really? Perhaps we could teach each other some more intimate phrases?” His fingertips slid up her arm as he leaned forward to brush his lips against the shell of her ear, his breath tickling her skin as he murmured. "Ya zhazhdu uvidet' tebya razdetym i zhelayushchim, samym lyubimym v moyem serdtse."

Vienna felt a shudder ripple down her spine, goosebumps breaking out across her flesh as a wave of heat pooled in her belly. “Two can play at that game,” she muttered before looping her arms around Julian’s neck, pressing herself against his chest and batting her lashes up at him. “Ilya, gráinn, cén fáth nach gcaitheann tú mé thar an tábla seo agus go nglacfaidh mé liom mar fraochÚn br��an?" As she spoke, her unbandaged hand slipped down his neck, dragging her nails down his throat hard enough to leave four red trails, though not quite hard enough to sting. Nonetheless, Julian let out a throaty noise of pleasure, shivering in her arms, pressing one hand at her lower back to push her hips against his. Slowly, as if waiting for permission, he brushed his lips against hers, the barest whisper of a kiss, until she took his face between her hands and brought her mouth crashing down on his, kissing him properly, passionately, hungrily. Hands clutched, eyes closed, hips rocked as they sought heat and friction, until they withdrew, panting and grinning. 

“Bedroom?” Julian’s eyes were wide, pleading, flushed from the tips of his ears to the top of his chest. Vienna nodded, clutching him as he rose to his feet, arms secure around her as her legs wrapped around his waist. “I think I could use a more...thorough lesson in your language, love.”

Gaelic:

In ainm Dhia: God damn it Táim chun tú a chaitheamh san fharraige, píosa cac: I’m going to throw you into the ocean, you piece of shit Máithreachas: Motherfucker gráinn: darling cén fáth nach gcaitheann tú mé thar an tábla seo agus go nglacfaidh mé liom mar fraochÚn bréan?: why don’t you throw me over the table and fuck me like a filthy whore?

Russian: 

podlaya pizda: dastardly cunt ublyudok: bastard sukin syn: son of a whore mudak: asshole sifiliticheskiy pridurok: syphilitic moron Ya zhazhdu uvidet' tebya razdetym i zhelayushchim, samym lyubimym v moyem serdtse: I long to see you stripped and wanting, most beloved of my heart