#like what word is being translated as such

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Words You Always Have to Look Up

Nonplussed

Means “perplexed.”

But there is a further point of confusion that can send someone to the dictionary: since the mid-20th century, nonplussed has been increasingly used to mean “unimpressed” or “unsurprised,” and this use, though often considered an error, has made the confident deployment of this word a fraught issue for many.

Anodyne

Sometimes words sort of seem to telegraph their meaning: pernicious sounds like a bad thing rather than a good thing, and beatific sounds like something to be desired as opposed to something to be avoided.

This is all fairly subjective, of course, but the sounds of words can have an effect on how we perceive them.

Anodyne doesn’t give us many clues in that way. It turns out that anodyne is a good thing: it means “serving to alleviate pain” or “innocuous,” from the Greek word with similar meanings.

Supercilious

Used to describe people who are arrogant and haughty or give off a superior attitude.

It comes from the Latin word meaning “eyebrow,” and was used in Latin to refer to the expression of arrogant people, and this meaning was transferred to English.

Amusingly, the word supercilious was added to some dictionaries in the 1600s—a time when many Latin words were translated literally into English—with the meanings “pertaining to the eyebrows” or “having great eyebrows.”

Stochastic

In scientific and technical uses, it usually means “involving probability” or “determined by probability,” and is frequently paired with words like demand, model, processing, and volatility.

Comes from the Greek word meaning “skillful at aiming,” which had become a metaphor for “guessing.”

It’s a term that had long been used by mathematicians and statisticians, and has come into more public discourse with stochastic terrorism, the notion that accusations or condemnations of a person or group can lead to violence against that person or group. This allows those who make the initial accusations to seem innocent from any specific violent act, but stochastic terrorism is a way to identify the motives for such an attack as being set in motion by the words of another person.

Anathema

Means “something or someone that is strongly disliked”.

Initially used to refer to a person who had been excommunicated from the Catholic church.

Came from Greek through Latin into English with the meaning of “curse” or “thing devoted to evil,” but today refers to anything that is disapproved of or to be avoided.

There is a strangeness about the way this word is used in a sentence. Because anathema is usually used without an or the, as in “raincoats are anathema to high fashion” or “those ideas are anathema in this class” it may seem just odd enough to send people to the dictionary when they encounter it.

Bemused

So close in sound to amused that they have blended together in usage, but they started as very different ideas: bemused originally meant “confused” or “bewildered,” a meaning stemming from the idea of musing or thinking carefully about something, which may be required in order to assess what isn’t easy to understand.

Many people insist that “confused” is still the only correct way to use bemused, but the joining of meanings with amused has resulted in the frequent use of this word to mean “showing wry or tolerant amusement,” a shade of meaning created from the combination.

Words with meanings that seem to crisscross or intersect are sure to send us to the dictionary.

Solipsistic

Means “extremely egocentric” or “self-referential.”

Comes from the Latin roots solus ("alone," the root of sole) and ipse ("self").

As this Latinate fanciness implies, this is a word used in philosophical treatises and debates.

The egocentrism of solipsism has to do with the knowledge of the self, or more particularly the theory in philosophy that your own existence is the only thing that is real or that can be known.

Calling an idea or a person solipsistic can be an insult that identifies a very limited and usually self-serving perspective, or it can be a way to isolate one’s perspective in a useful way.

It’s a word with an abstract meaning, which is a good reason to check that meaning from time to time.

Tautology

A needless or meaningless repetition of words or ideas.

It’s a word about words that can be used in academic writing or as a hifalutin way of saying “redundancy,” as in “a beginner who just started learning.”

Since we value both clarity and originality, especially in writing, tautology is a word that usually carries a negative connotation and is used as a way to criticize a poorly formed sentence or a poorly argued position.

Perspicacious

The ability to see clearly is a powerful metaphor for being able to understand something.

Being perspicacious means having an ability to notice and understand things that are difficult or not obvious, and it comes from the Latin verb meaning “to see through.”

Means “perceptive,” and is often used along with words that have positive connotations like witty, clever, wise, alert, and insightful (another word that uses seeing as a metaphor for understanding).

Peripatetic

Means “going from place to place,” and comes from the Greek word that means “to walk.”

You can say someone who moves frequently has a “peripatetic existence,” or someone who has changed careers several times has had a “peripatetic professional trajectory.”

The root word “to walk” is usually more of a metaphor in the modern use of this word—it means frequent changes of place, yes, but it doesn’t necessarily mean that you are wearing out your shoes.

The original use of this word did use “walking” as a more literal image, however: it was a description of the way that the philosopher Aristotle preferred to give lectures to his students while walking back and forth, and the word has subsequently taken on a more metaphorical meaning.

Source ⚜ More: Writing Basics ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[ylangelegy]

unknown / nth ⭐ minghao x reader.

your boyfriend gives you a language lesson before bed.

★ minghao x translator/interpreter!reader a.k.a the lost in translation couple ★ word count: 1.9k ★ genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, conversation about mandarin (my reference). takes place post-lost in translation! not entirely necessary to have read the fic prior to this. title is from hozier's song of the same name. not proofread. ★ footnotes: minghao did a brief weibo live and i've been missing lost in translation for quite some time now, so i jammed this out really quick 🚬🦆 may write more for/about this couple in the near future, so take this as the first of many! ♡

“I think Cold Love really represents me well. It’s probably because I’m an INFJ.”

You press your palm to your mouth to stifle your laugh. Minghao doesn’t react visibly, but his hand waves at you off-camera. A wordless reminder of Be nice. 

The two of you are across the room from each other— him, perched on the couch of his hotel room, while you’re already tucked in bed. Minghao had promised his fans a quick Weibo live to discuss his most recent EP, leaving you to your own devices for the next hour or so. 

You didn’t mind. It was one of life’s simple joys, listening to your boyfriend talk. 

He spends the next thirty minutes or so discussing his creative process and answering fans’ questions. You don’t bother him, knowing you’ll have all the time in the world later to tease him for some of his remarks. Like his indignance at growing taller or his jabs at his age. 

As you busy yourself with mindlessly scrolling through your phone, you relish in the familiar sound of Minghao’s Mandarin. It’s probably your favorite version of white noise, really. The mellow tone of his voice contrasts the rapid, sharp way that he speaks. Despite being well-acquainted with the language, there are still some words that elude you. You make a mental note to ask Minghao about them later. 

Less than an hour has passed before you hear Minghao beginning to wind down. “Good luck on all of your exams. To the people working, keep working hard! Make lots of money,” he says hurriedly. “And good luck with love, too. I hope you all find someone who loves you back so you can experience all sorts of feelings.” 

He’s never been the type to drag out his goodbyes, so you’re not surprised when— after a final heart sign and wave to the camera— Minghao is finally clocking out of his live. 

Immediately, he slumps back onto the couch like the whole thing had drained him. Sure, lives weren’t necessarily one-sided, but he did have to hard carry when it came to the talking part of the affair. You flash him a sympathetic smile as you sit up in bed. 

“Done, xīngān?” you call out. 

Minghao doesn’t respond right away. You don’t hold it against him. He sometimes needed a moment, needed a minute or two to pull himself together. 

After staring at the ceiling for what feels like forever, Minghao lets out a shuddering exhale. “Done,” he responds, and he’s moving before you can register it. 

He gets to his feet and crosses the room in a few, quick strides. Once he gets to the bed, he wastes no time in reaching for you. His knees sink in the mattress; his hands dart out. 

You let out a slight squeal when Minghao tugs you into him. 

“Sorry,” he says, not sounding very sorry at all. This had been a premeditated act. You can tell in the way his arms immediately snake around your waist. 

You let out a defeated sigh against his chest, but make no move to pull away. “Tired?” you ask, your hands resting on the small of his back as you return his embrace. 

He hums a quiet ‘mhm’. “I’m not built for this anymore, xīngān,” he whines. 

The two of you know that’s a bold-faced lie. Still, you indulge your sulking boyfriend lest he begin to pout even harder. “My poor baby,” you coo, running your hands up and down Minghao’s back in a show of comforting him. “Gonna blame it on being an introvert?” 

“Shut up.” 

You let out a small laugh. You can’t see it, but you swear you can feel the curve of Minghao’s smile as he presses a chaste kiss to the top of your head. 

“Thank you for being here,” he says after a moment of comfortable silence. “It means a lot.” 

A part of you wants to insist that it’s nothing. It’s not every day that you can steal away to his hotel room, though. In between your own work of interpreting for the boys and working on subtitles for videos, there’s also the added layer of keeping your relationship on the down low. 

Tonight, Minghao had just tried to asked. Texted a couple of hours ago that he wanted to see you. And you could never really deny him anything, not even on your best days. 

“Anything for you,” you respond as you stroke the short hair at his nape. 

Minghao buries his face in the crook of your neck, his smiling mouth warm as he mumbles against your skin. “Don’t give me that much power,” he warns. “I’ll abuse it.” 

You chuckle. “I don’t doubt that.” 

The two of you lapse into another bout of quiet. This had always been your way, even back when the two of you were friends: Comfortable silences, unspoken agreements. Your new relationship had only given you two the carte blanche to be a little more touchy during your shared moments of peace. 

You’re fairly sure that Minghao has fallen asleep when he speaks up again. “How do you think I did?”

“With the live?” 

“No, with cuddling. Yes, with the live.” 

“Ask nicely.”

“Please?” 

You put Minghao out of his misery by returning his earlier gesture— leaving a quick kiss, this time to the line of his jaw. “Stellar as usual,” you reassure him. “I didn’t pick up on everything, though.” 

“That’s new.” Minghao shifts around on the bed until he can prop himself up on one elbow. He rests his chin in his hand but doesn’t stray too far. He stays hovering over you, his free arm remaining around your waist. 

He goes on to goad, “Your Mandarin must be getting rusty.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, shooting him a half-hearted glare. “How can it be rusty,” you retort, slipping into the language as if to prove a point. “When you’re always insisting that we use it?” 

No matter how many times that you speak to him in his mother tongue, Minghao always seems momentarily startled. The surprise always fades into affection, evident in the fond way that he gazes down at you. 

He matches your code switch without missing a beat. “I’ve told you, haven’t I? I love it when you speak Mandarin,” he says, punctuating his words with a quick pinch to your side. 

You swat his hand; he giggles down at you.

“Which parts did you miss out on?” he asks. 

It takes you a moment to recall the terms and phrases you’d wanted to question him about. “撒娇?” you ask, the unfamiliar word sounding almost hesitant on your tongue. Sājiāo.

A thoughtful ‘ahhh’ escapes Minghao. “Think of it like aegyo,” he offers delicately. “It’s— often in the setting of a relationship. Acting cute to be endearing.” 

“Like when you gripe about me not responding fast enough.” 

“Examples aren’t necessary,” he says wryly. “But, yes. Like that.” 

You flash Minghao a grin before snuggling a little closer to him, entangling your legs. The added touch makes his expression softens in the way it only ever does when it’s you. 

“Anything else?” he prompts. 

It’s not everyday that Minghao gets to play the ‘teacher’ role in your relationship. In the beginning, you had been his Korean tutor. In the longer run, you had helped him translate and transpose words that he couldn’t reach. Every so often, you would run to him for some Mandarin help, and you could tell that he relished in the shift in dynamic. 

The thought pushes you to keep asking, even though the words are inconsequential. “You used the term 暖男,” you note. “What was that one?” 

“Nuǎnnán,” he echoes, correcting your intonation. You repeat the word as he said it, and he gives a small smile of approval.

“It’s our version of ‘nice guy’,” he explains. “But it’s rooted a lot in culture. A nuǎnnán is a man who can be considered inherently warm-hearted in an otherwise patriarchal society. And no—” Minghao’s tone takes on a more chiding quality when he sees you about to interrupt. “Do not try to call me a nuǎnnán.” 

You jut out your lower lip slightly. “Why not?” 

The arm that Minghao had around your waist rises, just enough so he can tap the tip of your scrunched nose. “Don’t pull out sājiāo on me,” he scolds. 

It’s not necessary for you to act cute. Your boyfriend would be endeared by you either way. 

You chuckle at being caught, and Minghao’s sternness mellows. “One last.” You hold up a finger as you try to nail the phrase that had first caught your attention. “裸婚?” 

There’s a flicker of surprise on Minghao’s expression. “That was from a fan making a joke,” he warns before repeating the word himself. “Luǒhūn translates to— hear me out, okay?— ‘naked marriage’.” 

The sight of your raised eyebrow draws a sharp laugh from Minghao. “It’s another one of those cultural things,” he says. 

When he doesn’t add onto his words, you shoot him an incredulous look. 

“What?” he asks with feigned innocence.

“That’s it?” you prod. “You’re not going to explain what ‘naked marriage’ means?” 

“You have access to the internet, don’t you?” 

“Xīngān.” 

“That’s me.” 

At Minghao’s continued evasion, you merely huff and give up. It’s getting late, anyway, and he has to be up early in the morning for sound check. Come tomorrow, you’ll have to slip away before anyone can come looking for either of you. The boys aren’t privy to your relationship yet, and God forbid any of the other staff find out.

“Fine,” you say, unable to resist the urge to just be a little haughty. “Let’s go to sleep.” 

Minghao is undeterred by your contempt. If anything, it only makes him smile a little wider, gives him an excuse to pull you into his chest. He goes to cradle the back of your head, his fingers playing with the strands of your hair. 

You lean into his touch, burying your face into the front of his shirt. There it is again. Those few, precious moments where the two of you can just bask in each other’s presence. 

The silence stretches on this time. You’re properly drowsy by the time Minghao speaks up, his words quiet as he mumbles them against your shoulder. 

“No house, no car, no fancy ring,” he murmurs, his tone contemplative and sleepy. “Luǒhūn.” 

“A naked marriage,” you respond mid-yawn. 

“Mhm.”

“Nothing but love.” 

“You got it.” 

The conversation feels like it’s teetering on the verge of something consequential, something of value. But with the two of you already halfway asleep in each other's arms, there’s not much you can do besides exchange some light pecks and mumbled words.

“I think I’d want at least a house before getting married,” you say. “Or, like, an apartment.”

“What, you wouldn’t live out on the streets with me?” he teases lowly. 

Your eyes flutter close. “You would have to convince me,” you shoot back. 

Minghao responds with a lingering kiss to your forehead. 

“How long will it take to convince you?” 

It’s a little too early in your relationship for the topic of marriage to be seriously brought up. It’s fun to dream about, though. To talk about in hushed tones, to toy with in Minghao’s mother tongue. 

To imagine a time where this might be your every night— falling asleep in each other’s arms. 

“Might take you years and years,” you answer, a giggle rising from the back of your throat. 

Minghao’s arms shake as he laughs. His lips stay on your head, almost like he can’t bear to peel away from you for a minute too long. 

“I don’t mind,” he says as the two of you begin to succumb to sleep. 

The last thing you hear is his affectionate, soft promise of, “I’ll start working on convincing you, xīngān.” 

[mejaemin]

nonchalant- jeon wonwoo

wc: 0.9k

summary: clingy wonu /ᐠ - ˕ -マ

warnings: streamer!wonu, writer!reader, fluff, not proofread !!!

an: i can think of so many ways to make a pt.2 to this… will i? nope!

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the letters on your laptop’s keyboard are surely to start fading any time soon, but it’s worth it. especially right now. there’s yet to be a single time where you’ve felt this much inspiration in your entire career, so you refuse to let this go to waste. your eyes flicker to the notebook sitting next to you, information on the paper translating in your mind and being typed out into coherent sentences on the document.

you’re really proud of what you’ve written so far. you had your boyfriend read your unorganized thoughts you had set out for the plot and what not, and he thinks it’s good too. once your brain felt ready to start writing the real thing, your fingers were flying. you slipped your headphones on, essentially blocking out the entire world as you worked. you started when it was still light out, and you’ve only gotten up to use the bathroom, really. it’s dark now, and although he’s not working quite as hard, you can still sense your boyfriend moving around the house, making commentary as he pre records gaming content.

he’s left you alone so far. he’s not the type to nag you too much about taking care of yourself, especially when he’s already learnt his lesson about interrupting you when you have one of these moments of inspiration. not to mention he has times like this too, even if it was for something like a long term livestream. still, he treats you how he would want to be treated in the same situation. by that he means undisturbed… with the occasional interruption, of course. he likes to have his game time but if he isn’t filming he still wants to be with you.

your phone is on do not disturb, keeping wonwoo’s obnoxious friends and their instagram reel notifications from disturbing your work, so when a message notification dings through your headphones you know who it is.

won🖤: Are you almost done yet?

won🖤: I’ve finished recording.

you: no, sorry love :( i still have some left in me.

you: just a little more, okay?

won🖤: Just a little more. I try not to be that guy, but you really should stop soon. Eat something

you reacted with 👍

setting your phone down, you crack your knuckles with a sigh. you were reaching the end of your inspiration spark, so you really wanted to rush to get whatever you could in. it’s extremely rare that this happens, and you couldn’t stress it enough. you’ve got deadlines to meet, and for this to happen to you was literally perfect. you’re basically set, and might even be able to take a day off tomorrow.

you’ve gotten back onto your groove, putting the music on high while you work. you’re typing word after word, paragraph after paragraph flawlessly. everything you’ve been mapping out for weeks is finally coming to fruition, and it’s doing so perfectly. you’re so zoned in that you don’t notice when wonwoo comes in, only taking note of his presence when the weight shifts on the bed and his head lands on your shoulder.

you pause, pulling the headphones off your head. “do you need something?” you ask, hand instinctively coming to brush through his hair.

he looks up at you, and you’re sure he doesn’t notice the way he’s pouting. it’s rare that he’d be like that voluntarily. “how far are you? you’re almost done?”

“mm, i don’t think so.. sorry. i really need to make the most of this or else i’ll never get this finished.” you kiss the top of his head, and as soon as you put your hand back towards the keyboard he grabs it.

“you’ve been sitting here all day.”

“yeah, i noticed. but i’ll do just a little more, ‘kay?” you kiss his crown and return to work.

you finish the second to last plot point you had mapped out, and now you’re just revising what you done so far. even by your own standards you’ve done enough, and since wonwoo is indirectly begging you to spend time with him (in his own way) by clinging to your side, you suppose you can stop for now. it hasn’t even been that long and you can see him looking from his phone to you every three seconds. it’s cute really, how he’s trying so hard to be nonchalant about it when he wants to spend time with you so bad. every time he wants your attention, he sort of hovers around you and stares at you until you give it to him. he’ll never say it out loud, but he’s definitely going to be obvious about it in other ways.

you shut your computer and set it on the night stand, turning towards him fully. the corners of wonwoo’s mouth twitch as he tried to hold back his smile, but you know he’s happy that he’s won.

“you’re done now? are you gonna go back to work, or are you really done?” he asks, sitting up and readjusting his glasses.

you giggle at his cuteness, kissing his cheek. “yes, nonu. you’ve got my full, undivided attention now, ‘kay?”

he’s already up before you are, rambling about how excited he is to spend the rest of the night with you, even if it’s already late. he’s walking into the kitchen to make ramen for you, talking about eating it together while watching something, and then stopping to ponder about what to do after. you trail behind him, a smile on your face. your nonchalant, black cat boyfriend who uses very few words will throw it all out the window if it means getting your attention and keeping it for a good moment.

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[peachylynnie]

garlic

word count: 1.4k

synopsis: in which sylus feeds you too much garlic

contains: sylus x reader (doesn't have to be mc, gender neutral), an obscene amount of garlic (slight crack fic), mentions of cooking, eating, and love of food, suggestive at the end, and cussing.

a/n: i was rewatching wgm the other day and the male star did this to the female star. couldn't help but feel inspired to write this for sylus since he would totally tease us. do NOT copy or translate my work. sylus does NOT endorse plagiarism. reblogs and comments always appreciated :)

you love sylus' cooking. even before you started dating, you always thought his cooking was immaculate—so immaculate you can't help but wonder why he even had a private chef. rich people shenanigans, you like to conclude. you also wonder if rich people put a lot of garlic in their food. because there are a shit ton of garlic slices on the linguine pasta sylus just served you.

by no means are you a picky eater. heck, you love garlic. it's a blessing to humankind. garlic bread, fried rice, pesto, you name it. so many foods have garlic in them, and you enjoy all of them. but this? this was way too much.

sylus raises a brow as he sits next to you, wondering why you haven't picked up your fork yet. "something wrong, sweetie?"

"what's with the garlic, sylus?" you turn to face him, leaning back in the leather high chair.

he looks at your plate, then back at you. "is there something wrong with the garlic?" picking up his own fork, he goes to inspect your food. you stop him by holding his wrist.

"no," you shake your head, laughing a little. "it's just... this is a LOT of garlic." you nudge your head towards the incredibly noticeable pile of garlic slices. "did the tutorial really call for this much?"

sylus chuckles, returning to his own plate. meticulously, he twirls the pasta with his fork, leaving you to admire his sturdy forearms. not only do you love sylus' cooking, but you also love WHEN he cooks. why? because this absolute godsend, silver-haired, ruby-eyed, strong-nosed, supple-lipped, and deep-voiced of a man rolls up his sleeves when he cooks. his veins protrude and his muscles flex whenever he chops some vegetables with a knife. you don't pity the buttons that hold on for dear life to keep his sleeves together whenever he maneuvers a pan. resting an elbow on the kitchen island, you set your head on your hand to admire the current view.

you're taken aback when sylus holds up his fork to your mouth. normally, you would gush at such an action. the ruthless and relentless head of onychinus, offering YOU the first bite of HIS food. oh, you would happily accept, eager to taste absolute heaven in your mouth because sylus always makes great food. but, this time, you frown, noticing the mini TOWER of garlic slices on top of the noodles wrapped around his fork.

"i didn't take you for a picky eater, sweetie." sylus teases as he tilts his head. your jaw drops, flabbergasted by such an accusation. not that there's anything wrong with being a picky eater; it's just that sylus should know you by now. he's cooked for you plenty of times before. he's seen you eat plenty of times before. he should know by now you generally enjoy most food, and it takes a lot for you to even hesitate to pick up a utensil.

"i'm not picky," you cross your arms, a slight pout forming on your lips. "there's just too much garlic."

"there's no such thing as too much garlic," sylus quips. as if to further prove his point, he lifts the fork closer to your mouth. you begrudgingly accept, not without giving him a look, of course, because only you would accept a mouthful of garlic offered by sylus himself.

it's not necessarily bad. that's the first thought you have when you close your mouth. except you immediately change your mind after you bite down. holy shit, it's just straight garlic. you grimace, immediately uncrossing your arms to cover your mouth. you can't even taste the linguine. groaning, you try not to spit out the food. no matter how bad a dish may be, you wholeheartedly believe it's rude to spit it out in front of the person who made it. furthermore, this was sylus we're talking about; you're fricking boyfriend. you scrunch your shoulders as you painfully swallow, instantly reaching over the counter for a glass of water. after you relieve your mouth of garlic hell (it didn't help at all), you face sylus, glaring at him with all your might.

"that's too much garlic!" you snap, using one hand to slap sylus' shoulder and another to cover your mouth, overwhelmed by the smell. trying to ignore sylus' snickers, you drink more water. this motherfucker dares to laugh at your agony. you swear the next time he calls you over for some parmesan garlic linguine, you're going to tell him to shove a garlic braid up his ass.

"oh come on, sweetie," sylus jests as he twirls some more noodles with his fork before offering them to you again. "it can't be that bad."

you look at him with wide eyes. there's no way he's serious right now. "why don't YOU try then?"

"gladly," sylus says smugly. he takes a bite and lets out an obnoxious "mmm!" you scoff when he goes back for a second bite, unable to believe the audacity he has.

"there's no way it tastes that good," you say as you jerk your head away, determined to stay mad at him. "you just want to flatter your cooking."

"you're missing out," sylus says nonchalantly as he takes another bite. "besides, garlic is good for your health. it can provide a lot of strength. in fact, laborers were fed garlic back then, so they could have enough stamina. "

you roll your eyes. of course, he brings health into this. not that there's nothing wrong with it. you actually admire how much sylus takes care of himself. he's quite the competent man. but you know what he's doing. he's making fun of you. your eyes can't help but twitch as you look down at your plate. good for your health, my ass. no way an entire plate (sylus has massive plates by the way) topped with heaps of garlic is good for anyone. not even five serving spoons can rid your plate of its garlic slices.

suddenly, you get an idea.

"hey, sylus," you say as you reach over the counter for the serving spoon he used earlier to serve your plate. "since you like your linguine soooo much, mind if i feed you?"

sylus doesn't look up from his plate, clearly too occupied with his own making. "sure, sweetie."

you giggle, setting the spoon against the edge of your plate before scraping only the garlic slices onto it. given how much garlic there was, it doesn't take long for you to fill the giant spoon with it—garlic and garlic only.

"don't do that."

"don't do what?" you don't stop scraping.

"that," sylus answers as he warily eyes the spoon your hand is now holding up to his face. that was, indeed, too much garlic.

"come onnnn," it's your turn to tease. "there's no such thing as too much garlic, right? besides, it's good for your health. what good is the head of onychinus if he doesn't have enough stamina?"

"i have plenty of stamina," sylus insists. "and that," he juts his chin towards the spoon, "is too much stamina."

you snort as you nudge the spoon closer, ignoring him entirely. "say ah! eat and gain lots of stamina! you need it!" you chirp as you lift your free hand and extend it underneath the spoon, hoping to catch any stray slices.

sylus' eyes flicker from the spoon to your face. he leans in, acting as if he's going to listen to you. though, not before asking, "where will i use all this stamina? will you use it with me?"

you choke, immediately retracting the spoon. "what?!" you dump all of the garlic back onto the plate, avoiding the amused look on sylus' face and also the imagery of exciting... stamina-related activities involving him. "pervert," you grumble, a rosy hue appearing on your cheeks.

"i was talking about training, sweetie," he smirks.

no fucking way. you gape at him, not believing a single word.

sylus stifles a laugh, enjoying the hilarious expression on your face. look at you, so cutely flustered over the idea of taking your relationship to the next level. yes, he was talking about whatever was going on in that head of yours. no, he wasn't talking about training. but hiding such a fact was worth it, given your embarrassed state. wanting to admire your adorable face some more, sylus grips your chin before tilting it up.

"although, i'm not against what you have in mind, sweetie."

[bonbonly]

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬

a/n: this is for my desi girls, and my first full length proper fic! translations are at the end of the fic, so just scroll down whenever you see something in spanish! pairing: king!carlos sainz x apsara!female!reader ; tw: fingering, cunnilingus, p in v, overstimulation, dirty talk in spanish, use of slut in spanish word count: 6k apsara definition: a supernatural female being, either the mistress of a soul in paradise or a succubus

"hurry up! hurry up!" meenakshi cries out. she's grabbing her saree, wrapping it around her wet body as she cranes her neck around a tree to see if there were any onlookers. you laugh, splashing some water onto her feet which has her squealing, her right foot kicking up into the air before she's stomping her foot, pouting at you, "i'm not kidding, come! what if someone sees us!"

"that didn't stop you the last time when the great sage was walking back home," you tease her, splashing another wave of water. she's blushing at your words, averting her eyes to the small flower besides her. she had been sent by one of the gods to remind this sage that despite the knowledge he had, his arrogance was still that of a mere mortal and to prove a point, meenakshi was sent to illustrate that the sage had not yet controlled his desires like he was supposed to. meenakshi had walked into his hut under the pretense of wanting some water, and walked out with a satisfied grin as the sage's cum dripped down her legs. even with the amount of times she was sent by the gods to fulfill whatever they asked of her, no apsara was more the favorite than you. you were created by many gods, who each spent extra time making sure that you were the perfect apsara to ever exist. their own lust could not be controlled when you stepped out of the flower that you bloomed from, and needless to say, you were their prized possession for a good two weeks before they let you roam the mortal world.

you're in a river, taking a bath like you always did with your friends. renuka had left earlier to collect some fruits, and dhanalakshmi was playing games with the little girls near the village. dhanalakshmi's story was one of pity, though. she yearned to be a normal mortal, to mingle with the others, but an apsara's curse was that their beauty was just too much for a man or woman to handle. the mortals were not ready to live with the apsaras, and that's why their lives were so mundane. you glance over to meenakshi who's still anxiously looking around.

"you worry too much! come, come take another bath with me!" you laugh, swimming on your back. the water surrounded your full breasts, your hair floating like the leaves of a lily flower. meenakshi sent you a scowl, shaking her head,

"you play too much! come, before a mortal sees us! i've been hearing talks from the gods that this one king wants to take over the forest! and he's not even from here!" meenakshi grabs your white saree and brings it over to you, carefully holding it out so that the fabric doesn't get drenched. you stop your movements, letting the still water engulf your frame as you stare at her.

"what do you mean take over the forest? the forest is ours! the gods gave us a place to stay! this is our land, not the mortals!" you cry out.

"i know, i know," she beckons you with her hand to swim over to her, "which is why i'm begging you to come out of the river. we can go pray at the temple near by and see if the gods will answer our concerns!"

you step out of the river, letting the water cascade your naked body as meenakshi is quick to wrap the saree around you. she grabs the flower from the ground, plucking a bit of the stem off before placing it in your wet hair, right above your right ear and then she's holding your hand and navigating through the forest. you hop over some roots, and smile as the butterflies flutter around your hair, kissing your skin. meenakshi turns around and laughs,

"must be one of the former kings who satisfied their lust through you and now they are cursed to be butterflies!" and you giggle in response, cooing to the creatures,

"beautiful nonetheless, are they not? they're always welcome," and the butterflies dance around your head as a form of gratitude at your kindness.

when passing by a long abandoned hut, you see renuka laying there, her clothes on the floor of the forest. she's breathing heavily, a grin on her face as her legs are spread apart, her cunt still clenching around the cum that some mysterious man has offered her. meenakshi and you both scurry over to her, and while your friend is tending to the poor spent girl, you're giggling hysterically as you crouch down to her level.

"someone had fun in the forest without us, hm?" you smile and meenakshi's swatting your arm, a frown on her face,

"stop that! she needs to get back home. why would anyone ever be intimate in the forest, look at her back!" she flips renuka onto her stomach which causes the apsara to giggle a bit dazily. there's marks on her back from being held up against a tree, and you bite your lip, your mind wandering to some very unholy thoughts. renuka's waving meenakshi away,

"no, stop... stop, i'm fine. i'm very much fine, don't worry about me. i was sent by indra to come destroy a saint's abstinence. he was a young boy, couldn't be more than 19. he was good," she pauses, stretching her arms before giggling once more, "really good. (y/n) you would've loved him." and meenakshi's glaring at both renuka and you,

"enough with this nonsense! come now, we have other more important matters to deal with. dhana's waiting for us back at the temple," she stands up and walks away, leaving you to wrap renuka up in her clothes, a knowing smile on both your lips. when you finally get to the temple, dhana's there making a flower garland to place on the deity and she turns to look at her three friends approaching.

"finally! i thought you all would never make it! i was waiting for so long!" she cries out, and meenakshi's rolling her eyes,

"we would've gotten here sooner, but you can already guess what held us back," and she sends a scowl to both you and renuka, who are hiding your laughs with your mouth. dhana sighs, lighting a small lamp before praying carefully. one by one, the apsaras close their eyes, murmuring their concerns and within seconds, a large glow appears in front of you all. you open your eyes first, having always loved to have conversations with the gods. however, you frown, when you see it's god indra, the one you hated the most. he was always teasing you, toying with you in the worst way possible. you pout your lips and turn your head to the side, chest heaving in anger and he's already laughing,

"oh my dear (y/n) come now, don't be like that! i thought you'd miss me!"

but meenakshi, the ever loving friend, clears her throat and saves you from a conversation with him, "we wanted to ask about what's to come of our forest. are the rumors true? will our home be destroyed by a foreign force?"

indra stares into the sky, taking a deep breath in before nodding his head, "i'm afraid the rumors are true. very much true. there's not much we can do to stop him, but we're trying our best to intervene. this is the home we gifted you after all, i wouldn't want any of you to get hurt."

"what do you mean by 'him'? who's 'him', who is he?" you ask, snapping your head to face indra. he's raising his eyebrows, a smile on his lips as he sees your feisty attitude,

"apsara, he isn't like the other men you've dealt with," he clears his throat before continuing, "he's more dangerous, you know? he's a king from a distant place, very distant. he's travelled the seas, he's shown the qualities of a true warrior and for a king who takes acres of land left and right for the expansion of his kingdom, he sure does have morals."

"no man has morals, we have learned that countless of times," dhana chimes, "surely, he is someone that can be defeated, right?"

"of course, of course! but the gods cannot do it without your help! and your help is very crucial, very much so," indra begins and renuka steps forward,

"we'll be very helpful like always, this is just another-"

"this isn't just another scenario," indra scoffs, "i'm worried about you all. for once in your lives, you may be seduced by him, not the other way around."

the apsaras stare at him in disbelief, confusion settling in all their faces. what did he mean by that? no man ever stood a chance against an apsara, and no apsara ever bowed down to another man after the deed was done. renuka turns to look at you, "i think (y/n) should do it. she never cares for any man. her entire world is this forest, she cares more than any of us."

and before you can argue that there's probably a better candidate, the god floats to stand besides you, tilting your chin up with his finger so that you can see his tall stature.

"i was thinking the same thing. come on (y/n) i know we've had our differences in the past, but you know you're always my favorite, you know that right?" he exclaims, gently brushing your cheek. you turn your head away in disgust, snarling at him,

"you're not my favorite. you never have been and you never will. but i'll still do it. not for you, but for my friends. for my home," you respond, and he clasps his hand,

"as long as you do it, i shall be fine," he sighs, and dhana nervously chews on her finger,

"what does he looks like?" she asks, and indra is moving back to where the deity stands,

"you'll know when you see him... she'll definitely know." and just like that he's gone. meenakshi turns to look at you with scowl,

"i now see why you hate him. how will we know? how will you know, (y/n)?"

"i guess i just will..." you whisper, turning on your heel.

dhanalakshmi stopped going to the village outskirts in a long time. renuka rarely ever leaves her small hut, and meenakshi never joins your invitations when you're bathing in the river. so all alone, you swim around, pressing flowers into your hair and laughing whenever the butterflies come back to accompany you.

"you poor creatures," you tease them pointing to a blue one, "i remember you... you tried to trick me, and i convinced the rishis to curse you! look at you, helplessly flying around because you could not get to me. shame, such shame. i might as well let your wings roam over my body, you won't have hands for the next 1000 years."

the butterfly flies up all into your face, making you laugh as you stumble backwards into deeper waters. "someone's upset," you snicker, and the blue butterfly flies away. your eyes follow the insect before it lands on a white steed, neighing. you frown, looking around you to see if any of your friends are there to convince you that you're not dreaming. you swim over to the majestical animal, ducking beneath a broken log when the horse turns to your area. when the horse looks the other side, you slowly raise your head and let your eyes travel along the golden reins. the saddle is that of a rich velvety red, with encrusted gold patterns. when you had once seduced a sage under the orders of one of the gods, the sage had found out and cursed you to be curious. in any other circumstances, this would seem as barely any punishment, but no. no, this was a type of punishment that only your future would suffer from. so with the nagging feeling in your mind, you raise from the water and approach the animal, gently brushing its soft coat. a very well maintained horse, and you're definitely impressed. your fingers dance along the reigns and when you look past the horse, you see a man cutting through the leaves of a bush with his sword. each swing of the weapon makes your heart ache and you feel for the poor plant that's suffering this abuse. you stretch out your hand, about to yell stop when your mind starts buzzing. you feel it in your heart, this is the man that you're supposed to stop. you gulp, realizing that you're not prepared for the occasion and you jump back into the waters which startles the horse.

hearing the restlessness of the horse, king carlos sainz runs towards the sound and he catches a glimpse of you swimming away, your hair chasing after you as if it was your own shadow and he has to blink a couple times because now you are gone. as if you were an illusion. he barely saw anything, but he swore you were naked? with flowers in your hair and a scent that made him crave for more. he shakes his head, turning back to his horse.

"oi, cabron, what's wrong?" he snorts, and the horse snorts back, stomping its foot, "enough with the attitude. come, we have things to do." and he's tugging the reigns, dragging the horse deeper into the woods.

"i saw him, i saw him!" you're pacing renuka's hut, shaking uncontrollably, "i didn't see his face clearly but i know it's him! i was so sure of it! i felt it within me!"

"then why didn't you do something about it?" she asks, and you groan out loud,

"right? when i'm naked after a bath, i should just go up to him and - oh forget it, that's your style. that's not mine!" you hiss, "i like to plan these out, i like to be prepared no matter what happens."

and you know you're prepared when you catch a glimpse of him the next day, and the following few days. you're stalking him, watching him prance around on his horse as you're perched on a tree. you take a bite of an apple, trying to understand his patterns, his mind. what was he doing in your home? to think he could storm in and take what was rightfully yours! the audacity of mankind. and yet as the days pass by, you fear lord indra is right. you're starting to crave this king. his hair looks soft, combed neatly and sometimes the wind pushes his hair back so that you could get a closer look at his big brown eyes. his jaw is sharp, lips big and you nearly fall off the tree ogling at him. renuka, meenakshi and dhana all see him too occasionally when they're hiding behind the trees, and all they can do is fawn over him. his beauty had renuka envying him.

"mortals shouldn't be this beautiful, this is a curse by the gods! they're trying to test us," she scoffs, and you're sighing out loud,

"a test indeed. i don't think i can spend any longer chasing after him. my mind is unwell. do you want to seduce him? i am more than happy to gift this burden to you," you exclaim but renuka shakes her head,

"no, no. the gods have chosen you. they're getting angry that you have not done your duty as an apsara. don't delay it any further, come on (y/n), it's your time now." she informs you, before picking the ends of her saree up and walking back to her hut.

you decide to finally confront the stranger that has been tormenting your mind for the past week. you let your hair down, the biggest hibiscus flower you can find in your hair and you wear your precious anklets, the one that you only wear for occasions like this. you delve into the woods, fingers brushing against the bark of the trees, each with a story of their own. and then you hear the unmistakable sound of someone chopping up leaves and you know it's time for you to spring into action. you move towards the direction of the sound, pushing the big leaves out of your way and you make sure that each step you take is harsh, just so that the music of your anklets can echo through every corner of this forest. as you turn the corner, a warm figure presses against your back, followed by the coolness of the sword against your throat.

"Qué tipo de criatura eres*?" the voice behind you asks, and you stand there, not understanding the language that he's speaking. you remain quiet, and after a few beats he asks you, "mmm, let me help you out, what type of creature are you?"

"i am no creature," you respond, "i live in the woods, this is my home."

"what are you? some sort of bear to be living here?" the voice behind you derides, and his sword's blade digs just a bite deeper into your throat which makes you gasp out loud, "you're a strange creature. what is it about you, hm? i've been seeing you lurking these wooded areas for the past week."

he inhales your scent, the one that he's been craving for an entire week. the one that he smells whenever he knows your nearby, and it drives him insane. he nuzzles his nose into your hair, lips finding the shell of your ear before he begins to nibble, "say, creature, how do you live like this in these woods?"

"this is my home. and once again, do not call me creature. you make me sound as if i am a monster, and the only monster here is you." you hiss, and he's chuckling into your ear, his voice low,

"perhaps, i am the monster, but you fascinate me. why don't you tell me one thing, were you sent by anyone? hm? is this some sort of a game that you and your friends play?" but his questions are met with no responses since you are too focused on the sword against your throat. he seems impressed at your resilience - or stupidity - and he removes the metal, spinning it in his hands before sheathing the sword. you take a step forward, ready to head back home and send meenakshi to do the deed instead but he grabs a chunk of your hair and pulls out back to him, which causes you to wince.

"where do you think you're going?" he's asking you, "i found you, and i want to know more about you."

"this is not the way to do so," you mumble, and he spins you around to finally see your face. you're stricken by his beauty, his features sharp and clear. you cannot help but press your body against his, being drawn to him in a way that you had never done so before. but you know that what you were feeling was wrong. apsaras never found love and if they did, it was doomed from the start. and considering the way this man was staring at you, love was not in the picture but lust sure was. you gulp, pushing him away from you, "you cannot take my home. you must make a promise."

he raises an eyebrow, cocking his head to the side as he's circling you as a predator would to its prey. the butterflies sit on the branch of a tree, eagerly waiting to see what's about to happen. "i cannot guarantee anything, but give me a good reason."

"my friends and i live here. the gods have gifted us this place as our home. no mortal is to ever see us unless we are to carry out a specific duty. mortals cannot usually withstand us, not even the most powerful sages can." you explain, and he's placing his hands on his hips, laughing at your words,

"i'm resisting you, i can stand you. not all mortals are that desperate, mi amor," he stops right in front of you, taking in your appearance. his eyes rake over your body, and he wants to touch you, see if you were real or just a figment of his imagination. but he knows that his words would then be futile. you can see the conflict in his eyes and you smirk for a brief second, and he notices it. he catches it, which makes him even more desperate to have you as his. to tame you, to see what it is about these woodland creatures. he had heard stories from the villagers nearby that the beauty of the forest was to be avoided. he didn't understand it then, but he sure did now. damned be the warnings they gave him, he just wanted a small taste.

you take a step backwards, which causes him to follow suit. you frown, looking around the forest to see if meenakshi would show up but the king grabs your wrist and yanks you close, pressing your body against his once more, "creature, i want you. i need you, right here and right now."

his eyes are blown out due to lust, and you're sure lord indra is happy that you have carried out his request perfectly. you could happily indulge the king all you wanted now. he'd cum in you once and then he'd leave as all the other men had done before. this was nothing new to you. you nod your head, "i shall give myself to you so long as you leave my forest and never come back, never taking what belongs to my friends and I."

"anything you say mi vida, i shall find land elsewhere," he promises, and you're unaware that he's crossing his fingers behind his back. how could he possibly leave this forest when he's seen you now! you bite your lip, eyes glancing to his lips. the ones that you've been dreaming about for a whole week and with much hesitation, you lean forward and capture his lips into yours, nipping his bottom lip and tugging every so often which has him laughing at how eager you were being. especially for a creature that seemed disgusted by his presence just a few minutes earlier. he cups your face, making sure you cannot turn away when the kisses become more heated. his lips trail to your jaw, and then down your neck. he kisses over your clothed breasts, down your stomach and then the inside of your thighs. he brings his hands up to grab at the fabric, but the gods must've decided to help you for now the wind is dancing around you. your hair lifts up into a spiral as the garment is slowly unraveling around you as if you were a present just for him, and there you stand naked before him as his mouth is watering at the sight. he shoves you to the ground, and you groan at the feeling of crunch leaves on your back. it wasn't your particular favorite feeling, but there's not much time when he's yanking you by your ankles close to him. he spreads your legs apart, shaking your feet to hear your anklets that are singing into his ears. he kisses your feet, whispering that every step you take on this world must be a blessing to the dirt. you're speechless at his praise, and his lips are inching closer to where you are aching for him. he blows a few cool breaths on your wet cunt, mumbling about how wet you are and if any man in the forest had ever managed to ruin you like he was about to.

"you are probably the 1000th man in my entire life that I have given myself too," you comment, watching his eyes darken, "i doubt you can make yourself memorable, but we shall try."

he takes it as a challenge, feeling his ego get bruised at your words. he’s going to make sure that if you ever bed any other man, you’ll still be craving him. so when you expect him to take out his manhood and call it a day, instead he has his lips around your cunt. he licks through your folds, sucking and pulling your clit that makes you gasp out loud, followed by a very loud moan that shocks even you. you glance down and can only see his black hair masking the sinful actions his tongue is doing. he’s wrapping his arm around your legs, bringing you closer to him as he’s diving his tongue deep into your core, shaking his head against your cunt which has you mewling. when you eventually cum into his mouth, he pulls away and licks his lips, loving the way you’re in shock at how intense the orgasm was. he brings his fingers to your mouth,

“Open for me princesa, i want to feel your spit on my fingers,” and you nod your head, completely under his trance. he smirks at your compliance, and pulls his fingers out of your mouth and dragging it down your body. his touch sends sparks flying through your body and when he shoves two fingers into your tight cunt, you throw your head back and cry out loud,

“you’re doing too much! listen you mortal!” you cannot finish your sentence since he’s curling his fingers, scissoring your cunt. he pulls out and slaps your face, gently,

“Your highness, you must call me your highness,” he grins, shoving his fingers back in you, and you’re tossing your head to the side with a large moan. this man had magic in his hands, there was no other explanation for this! he goes faster, adding a third finger as his thumb toys with your puffy clit. he sees your desperate cries to cum and he leans forward to capture your nipple in his mouth, sucking as if he was expecting milk to pour out from you. the gods had cruel ways to manipulate you, and you really hope they do not follow through with whatever this man was lusting for. your thoughts are quickly silenced as you feel that familiar coil tightening within you, and as his fingers slider in and out, curling and spreading the gummy walls of your cunt, you scream out loud as you cum once again, squirting all over his hands. the sleeve of his royal coat is drenched in your juices and he pulls away from your marked chest to stare into your eyes,

“you’re making quite the mess, mi vida. ruining my coat like this. debería castigarte por eso, mi pequeña zorra**” but his words mean nothing as your mind is turning into a blank mushy mess. he lifts you off the ground and places you against a tree. you suddenly remember the marks on renuka’s back a week ago and now you find yourself growing wetter at the thought of what he’s about to do. he runs a hand through his hair, beginning to undress. he tosses his coat, and then his vest and then his shirt onto the horse’s saddle and takes off his pants as well. his cock, once free, springs upwards and hits his stomach before swaying with each step he took towards you. he lifts one of your legs and lets you drape it over his arm while the other leg is made to root firmly onto the ground.

“you’re so wet, fuck,” he groans, sliding his cock against your folds. you whimper, still over sensitive from the previous orgasms but he tunes it all out and lets his aching cock bury into your cunt. he doesn’t give you time to adjust, making sure that the only thing your brain can think about now is the cock that's splitting you in half. he pulls out and slams right back into you, cock burying to the hilt and you're screaming with each thrust, unable to form words. his pace quickens, and he presses his chest against yours, going deeper into your poor cunt as the bark of the tree kisses your back roughly. he hoists both your legs up over his arms and as he's pounding into you, he keeps laughing the entire time.

"creature, i thought you'd be mysterious and quiet!" he brings his thumb onto your sensitive clit, rubbing furiously which has you screaming his title once more, begging him to slow down or else you were going to cum once more. "that's what i want, zorra, i want you to cum a million times around my cock. milk me for what it's worth. 1000 men you say? i do not know much about you, but i know from now on i am never letting any man touch you. damned be what the villagers said, i'm keeping you to myself."

your eyes widen in shock, having never heard someone want to possess you. perhaps this is the mentality of foreigners, wanting to take what wasn't rightfully theirs. you're sure the gods would never someone else take their beautiful creation, but a part of you... a part of you wanted him to take you. to let you go beyond this forest. you bite into his shoulder as you reach your climax, your liquids spewing out once more. he continues to drill into you, prolonging your pleasure. his thumb doesn't stop either, and you're sobbing uncontrollably telling him that you cannot take it anymore, that you cannot physically keep up with him. mortals would tire out before the apsaras, but this man had the strength to match the gods! no wonder indra was so worried about you having to deal with this king!

king carlos pulls out of you, and throws you over his shoulder. you limp against him, feeling yourself growing exhausted but you knew the job was far from done. the man tosses you into the water, and dives right in. he clasps onto your waist and brings you towards another bruising kiss, hands groping and squeezing wherever he could touch. there's a boulder near the end of the stream, and he swims over there with you holding on to his neck. within seconds, he has your face against the rock, ass in the air as he's rutting into you once again. you're losing your mind at this point, thinking that he's bound to make you so cock drunk that you'll never remember any of your friends ever again, only the feeling of the veins on his cock pulsing within your walls as he moves in and out of you. one hand grabs your hair while the other is kneading your ass. he looks down at the sight of your ass bouncing with each of his thrusts and he groans,

"oh creature, you cannot convince me that you weren't made just for my cock." his thrusts are harsher, he's not holding himself back anymore and you're audibly wailing at how you're unable to keep up with him, "mírate, tan hermosa, tan perfecta, tan buena puta de mierda para mí.***"

you don't know what he's saying again, but you can feel another orgasm building up as he's going deeper. it's like he plans on having his cock lodged into your guts permanently at this rate. you shake your head, trying to get up but he pushes you back down with his hand, a firm smack on your ass.

"i c-can't c-cum anymore," you whimper, though you back your ass into his crotch, as if chasing after something you fear might ruin you forever.

"yes, you can, puedes y te correrás para mí****" he growls, his thrusts becoming erratic. he grabs your arms and pins them behind your back, pulling you flush against his chest as his cock bullies into you. he licks the tears off your cheek, kissing and sucking at your skin and telling you that you were the most beautiful creature he's ever seen. "i'm going to take you back to my kingdom. i'm going to make you my queen, and you're going to be filled with my cum every. single. day," he punctuates with his thrusts, making you scream out loud as you're orgasming once again, your body shaking. he wraps his arms around you, "i never asked for your name in all of this. i need to know the name of my queen."

as he kisses your shoulder, you're gasping for air as you try to come down from the high, "i-it's (y/n), my name is (y/n)." and he's raising his eyebrows,

"never heard of the name, but it still sounds beautiful. i am king carlos, and i'm going to make you mine," he groans out loud as he's spilling his semen into you. he thrusts into you a couple more times, letting his cum splatter into the walls of your overworked cunt and he pulls out, enjoying the sight of your leaking pussy. he walks around the boulder to head back to his horse, and you see him begin to dress himself.

"if i have you, why would you need this forest, hm?" he asks, glancing at you as he's buttoning his shirt.

"this forest was gifted by the gods for my friends and I to stay safe from mortals. usually those who wander here are punished by the gods through us." you reveal to him, voice still hoarse from all the screaming you just did a few seconds ago. he laughs, a rich laugh, at your words,

"punish? mi vida, if this is your punishment, then i might as well take over your forest. do your friends have sweet cunts like you do? maybe i should get a taste of them all," he snickers, and watches you frown at his words, "don't be jealous, amor. you're the only one i want anyway."

he walks over to you after he's fully clothed, and cups your cheek, "come with me. i meant it when i said i want you as my queen. you won't have to live in this forest, you will have all the luxuries you could ever ask for."

"and this forest?" you ask.

"i'll still take it, but i won't do much harm if you're so fond of it," he replies, but it is not enough for you. consciousness settles into the crevices of your mind, and you realize you have overstayed your welcome with this king. you pull away from his touch, sending one final glance to him before jumping into the waters, swimming away as the butterflies follow you. king carlos watches you flee from him, confused that you just rejected such an amazing proposal. he wasn't even one to do so, and he laughs at his own foolishness to be chasing after some unknown creature in the woods. but his feelings remain the same, he wants you as his, no matter what happens.

as he moves towards his horse, he sees the white cloth that had been adorned on your body and he picks it up, inhaling that scent of yours that made his knees weak. he wraps the cloth around his hand and hoists himself onto his horse.

"i'll find her again one day, and the next time, i won't let her escape. she will be my queen, you hear me?" he says to the horse, who merely snorts and stomps its foot in response.

"oh, shut up," he hisses, before tapping the sides of his shoes against the horse's abdomen, and rides off deeper into the woods.

* what type of creature are you ** I should punish you for that, my little slut *** Look at you, so beautiful, so perfect, such a good fucking slut for me. **** you can and you will cum for me

[storiesaplenty]

Who fucked you better? (18+)

141 Task Force x f/Reader

Call of Duty Masterlist

This has not been proofread. Please enjoy though.

Warnings: swearing. Smut below the cut. Unprotected sex. P in V. Oral. Creampie. Anal sex. Use of toy. Recording sexual acts. Oral (m receiving) cum swallowing. Ball sucking. Cowgirl.

WC: 1740

Divider by @strangergraphics

©️ storiesaplenty 2024: do not repost or translate my work. This is the only place I post my work.

Captain John Price

"Yes love, let them all hear you." John groaned as he fucked into you from behind. You are flat against the bed, your hips slightly raised just enouh for him to pound you into his mattress.

His hips slamming off your ass making you cry out his name as you reach back and place one hand on his stomach to try and get him to slow down, but he has a point to prove, not only to himself, but to you and his men.

He slapped your hand away, reaching around your body to grip you by the neck and pull you against his hairy body.

"Who the hell do they think are? Huh?" His thrusts were now hard, rough, choppy.

"John please." You whined.

"Asking if I can take care of you? Think they can love you like I can?"

"No." You whimpered, your pussy clenching around his cock at how possessive he was being."

"Think anyone of those 'boys.' can fuck you like I can? Make you cream the way I know how? Bet they couldn't make you squirt? Oh no, only I can." John groaned into your ear, is end drawing near.

"Bet none of them can make you go stupid with just their cock? My smart woman goes all dumb the moment my cock is in one of your pretty, little holes."

"John!" You practically scream as you came. Your pussy clenching so tight around his cock that John followed right behind you.

His hips stilling against your ass as he cums inside of your pussy, making you softly moan at how he is filling you.

"You better?" You finally asked, pulling away from him with your wobbly legs, to go over to the dresser and turn off the camera, hitting send to send to the group chat that you have with the guys.

"Much better darling." John said, as he grabbed a cigar and lit it, hearing your phone vibrate as you kiss your way down his hairy, sweaty body, taking his softening cock in your mouth and sucking.

"Can't wait to see what you do with the others. Those lads trying to prove how good they can fuck you, compared to me."

Sergeant Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

"Relax baby. I got you." Kyle said as he trailed his hand down your back, as he pushed his thumb in your tight, ass.

You were trying to relax, you really were, but it has been a bit since he fucked you there.

Kyle put the tip against the hole as he pulled his thumb out, and slowly started to push in, making you gasp out his name.

He had his phone set up to record the two of you as he slowly pushed his cock into your ass.

He had another spare phone, pointing at your ass to record him sinking into your ass, until his hips were flushed against ass.

"Oh fuck." He quietly moaned as every single inch was inside of you. Your body was trembling at how full you fell.

He put a vibrating dildo in your pussy earlier as he has seemed to turn up the vibration making your eyes screw shut as you moan out his name, squeezing his cock with your ass.

"Gonna make me cum before I can give you a proper fucking." Kyle warned as he pulled back and thrust his hips forward, forcing a whine from your lips.

Kyle kept the slow pace, making you go crazy, as you needed more, even though by now you didn't know how to voice it, going dumb on his cock.

You moved your ass back each time he thrust back into you.

"You need me to go faster love?" He asked with a smile on his face.

"Yes, faster. Need it." Came the jumbled words spilling from your lips.

That was all Kyle needed to plunge his cock over and over again into your hole, making you scream his name, not caring about if anyone could hear you.

You collapsed forward, turning your face towards the one phone, your mouth hanging open as he fucked you.

Kyle placed one foot on the bed, making him feel even deeper inside of you.

He was groaning behind you, but you couldn't make out what he was saying as you cried out his name as another orgasm was pulled from you.

Your pussy and ass squeezing the dildo and his cock as he fucked your ass through your orgasm.

You lost track and how much you have cum by the time Kyle stilled, flushed against your ass as he groaned, loudly as he filled your hole with cum.

He couldn't help himself as he pulled back just to push back in a few times.

Kyle pulled out and brought the phone down to watch as his cum leaked out of your stretched hole, the vibrating dildo still in your pussy.

"Mmmm, I like to see any of them top that." Kyle said, issuing another challenge to the final two.

Sergeant Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

Johnny's name came out like a prayer as you rode him. His strong hands gripping your waist, helping you set the pace which you both need.

You have nothing idea which angle he is filming the two of you from.

"It's a suprise." He told you as he wrapped your hair around his fist as he fucked your face earlier.

The remnants of that drying on your lips and chin. The taste of him still fresh on your tongue.

But that seemed like a distant memory as the tip of his cock seemed to be nudging your cervix, making sure you remember him for days after this.

Your third orgasm of the night already knocking at your door as you grinded in his lap.

"So deep." You cried out.

"Yeah I am love." Johnny said, smugly, as he braced his feet on the bed and started to thrust up into you, making you brace your hands on his chest, digging your nails into his skin, leaving little indents there.

Suddenly, he wrapped his arms around your waist, flipping you the two of you over, so he is hovering above you.

Johnny leaned back, his cock still nestled inside your pussy, as he gripped your calves and pushed your legs towards your chest, making your eyes roll into the back of your head at the first hard thrust.

Your mouth hanging open as he fucked you at a rough, brutal pace that had your mouth fall open in a silent scream as he pulled another orgasm from you.

Your body shaking at how intense this orgasm is.

"Fuck." Johnny grunted as he pulled out, jerking his cock as stood up on the bed, to stand above you before sitting on his knees, which are now placed on either side of your head.

You take his balls in your mouth as he jerks his cock off above you.

Johnny is looking down at you, as you pull your mouth back from his balls, making a popping sound.

He moved down a bit just to place the tip of his cock on your tongue just as you closed your mouth around the tip.

Johnny's moans seemed to bounce off the walls as he came in your mouth, you quickly swallowing as fast as you can.

"Fuck me." He groaned as he got off the bed, grabbing a phone from one of his hiding places.

He trailed it up and down your body, until stopping at your face.

"Oh, you missed a bit there." Johnny said as he swiped his cum from the corner of your mouth with his thumb, placing it in your mouth as he closed your eyes, sucking his finger clean.

"Yes, that's it." Johnny said to you, tossing his phone to the side to go for another round.

Lieutenant Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

"Si," You couldn't even get his name out, your head leaning against his chest.

Your arms were reaching behind you, holding onto his neck, his hands spreading your thighs wide as his cock was nestled inside your pussy.

That is already sensitive due to Simon spending what felt like an eternity between your legs, making you cum on his and fingers twice.

All of a sudden, Simon stood up, his arms moving under your thighs, moving you up and down his cock, like you weighed nothing.

Simon moved the two of you, never once leaving your oussy as he halted in front of the full length mirror.

"Open your eyes." He grunted, you not even realising that your eyes were closed .

You forced your eyes open to watch as he moved you uo and down, his cock disappearing in and out of you.

You could see how wet you were as your juices coated his cock.

You couldn't believe that you could actually take all of him inside of you.

The others are big, but Simon, Simon is thick and long.

"Look at how well you take me, eh love."

He moved you up and down on his cock, faster and faster until you became almost limp on his arms as you came around his cock.

Simon quickly pulled out of you and turned you in his arms, before tossing you on the bed, you landing on your stomach.

Simon moved you onto your knees before grasping your hips and thrusting inside you once more before you could even blink.

Simon fucked you like there was no tomorrow, and you swear you blacked out every few moments.

"Yes, squeeze my cock lovie." Is what you heard as you woke up to you coming around his cock, him fucking you through your orgasm.

Simon changed the angle of his hips and was hitting that spot inside of you that had you screaming his name as he pulled orgasm after orgasm from your quivering body.

Simon finally stilled, his hips flushed against your ass as he came with a grunt.

His cum filling you as he smacked your ass a few times, making you yelp, and squeeze his cock with your pussy one final time.

"Shit love." Simon groaned as he pulled out of you.

You collapsing on the bed, not watching where he was walking too.

You felt your phone land next to you, and you could see the screen lighting up from the group chat.

They were each asking the same question.

'Who fucked you better?'

[bdafic]

Ghilan'naelvish II

(This took me much longer than expected, sorry guys)

Once Rook & friends hack Razikale down to a sliver of health, Ghilan’nain snarls, “They take too much,” and commands her to return. Razikale is melted down, reformed, then returned to the moat, emerging as the Eborsisk from [ the 1988 movie, “Willow”. ]

Again, Ghilan’nain has two lines here:

"Essana ellath vallan."

(Spoken as Razikale’s previous form is manipulated into something else)

This one took me forever, not only because the phonemes are so common but also because of how little sense it makes. This line reads more like ‘words’ than ’dialogue’. Eventually I realised that may actually be the point: it's an incantation.

Essana = change/reform

This one I'm pretty confident of. I found multiple, completely different, ways of translating it that all break down to some variation of “become something else”.

e (v. inf. be) + sa (another, again) + nas (soul, self ; from) literally: from (you/yourself) become again

Ellath = Requirement ; force

This sounds like it’s being pronounced with a soft 's' (/s/ = simple, sun) rather than the ‘th’ (/θ/  = thing, thought) that’s shown. That might make more sense, as 'lath' is almost always used for love, lovers, and intimacy. I did find a (canonical, if archaic) reference of 'lath' as “need”, not necessarily romantic or sexual, and if that’s the case, ‘El’ could be the article or superlative rather than a possessive "our".

90% of my time was swapping out various interpretations of this word. Here's a few:

El + lath = The need (as in, ‘there is need for’) ; our needs ; requirement El + ath = piece, small amount (superlative + divide, part, fraction) El + lath = the love ; our love ; obsession ; devotion El + las = force (superlative + give, grant) ; bestow ; gift Elas = can/may, conjugated E + las = become hope ; memory ; ambition e + la + ath = being / become (v. to be + intensifier + noun from verb action - though this is kind of like making a word out of “ing”, “epic” and “ish”).

I trust you see the issue.

In context, “need/requirement�� makes the most sense, but doesn't scan as well. As an incantation, the words stand on their own as commands.

Vallan = summon / invite

vall (v. bid/invite/order/summon) + an (suff. location/place) ; an (posessive) vall (same, but conjugated)

Without the ’s’ this is probably val/valla, as it was used by the guardian spirits in Trespasser. If the Inquisitor knows the passphrase, they stand down and invite you through with, “vallem (vall + em “[I] welcome/invite/bid”) as part of the phrase, "atish'all vallem". Somehow I can't imagine Ghilan'nain politely asking Raz to go stand on their marker, pretty please with a cherry on top, but if paired with ellath, it may tie together as "demand" or "order".

I can't say with 100% confidence what each word in this line means -- the context is doing most of the heavy lifting -- but there's enough to get what it's trying to say conceptually.

~ "Reconstruction is necessary, heed my order"

“Vallasan inall lasa!“

(Spoken authoritatively as Razikale reappears on the battlefield)

Vallasan = place of life ; body

vallas (life) + an (location suffix; possessive suffix)

Vallas as a root word has multiple meanings. We’ve even seen “vallasan” in canon — it’s the name of a unique bow in Jaws of Hakkon — though we have to infer its meaning. What’s weird about Ghilan’nain’s use of it here is that's [ very clearly not what she's saying ]. Whatever word she's using has two syllables; the "lla” has been dropped. That said, I think this is a line read error rather than a captioning error -- the translation makes more sense as shown.

Inall = dwellers / lives

ina (v. to live, to dwell - conjugated) ; + al (may indicate collective grouping)

Lasa = grant/allow/give

= "Bring me the bodies (of the living)"

Ghilan’nain’s Elvish

People seemed to enjoy the psychic bitchfight post so I figured I’d do one for Ghilan’nain’s lines in the ‘Siege of Weisshaupt’, too. Once again, I'm no expert, all glory goes to to [ FenXshiral ], and remember this is a vibe-based language so results vary with context, inflection, speaker and so on.

In the lead-up to the boss battle, First Warden Jowin will show up to take Davrin’s place as final sacrifice, only to be snatched up by Ghilan’nain before he can deliver the blow. After remarking on the quality of his blood, Ghil rips out his heart, turns it into an archdemon strength buff, then drops the used-up Warden like hot garbage. A moment later Wyrm!Razikale emerges from the moat to start the fight.

Ghilan’nain has two lines in this cutscene:

“Lasa hedallin ghellara”

(Spoken either to or about the First Warden as she manipulates his blood/heart).

Lasa = grant/allow/give

hedallin = blood of a noble kill/sacrifice; blood of [your] defeat

1. hel/hell (adj. noble, moral, just) + dala (v. kill, destroy) + lin (n. blood, person m.)

or 2. [hela (v. contest, oppose, fight) + dala (v. kill, destroy)] + lin (n. blood, person m.)

The use of ‘noble kill’/‘blood of your defeat’/‘sacrificial blood’ feels very deliberate here. Just before Ghilan’nain grabs him, Jowin recites the Grey Warden motto, “In war, victory! In peace, vigilance! In death, sacrifice!” . She’s throwing his words back at him, saying his ‘sacrifice’ would’ve been a waste... she'll put it to better use. She even taunts Rook with this later in the fight: “Witness! A Warden’s blood to birth your own destruction.”

ghellara = [my] beast more strong

ghe (n. monster, beast, creature) + elvara (v. to make difficult, hardy, sturdy, complex; from adj. elvar) + el (more, much, many. Used as a superlative) + ara (pron. sb. poss. my)

= “The blood from your sacrifice will strengthen my beast.”

"fenathra mellas”

(Spoken as Razikale’s transformation completes)

The natural assumption is fen = wolf, which would result in: fen (wolf) + ath (embodiment of) + ra (prn. it) or ara (my, possessive), making it, ‘the wolf’ in a kinda roundabout way. More like, “that wolf guy” or even, "my wolf guy" instead of a name or title. But I don’t think Ghilan’nain is invoking Solas or "the wolf” here. He isn’t an opponent at this point in the game, and neither her nor Elgar’nan see him as a real threat anyway. Additionally, the way she says the word ‘fenathra’ is quite soft — almost wistful — especially by comparison to the deep, guttural, delivery of, “mellas”. I think the root word she’s using here is actually ‘fenor’.

She calls Razikale her greatest creation. She mourns her death; pitifully telling Elgar’nan that Rook took her away. Razikale is more than just important to her — she is the very embodiment of the word 'precious'.

fenathra = My Precious One

fenor (precious) + athe (used to change the meaning of an existing word into, ‘physical manifestation of’, or ‘embodiment of’, eg. “the dead” from death) + ara (my)

Mellas = Allow now / Go!

melana (adv. now, in relation to ‘time’ or ‘when’) + lasa (v. grant, allow, give, let - imperative verb form)

= “Go, My Precious One!”

I've been working on her remaining lines for several days now and am currently tearing my hair out about it, but I will add them to this post as a reblog once I finish!

As a bonus I'll throw in Solas' dialogue to Davrin when he briefly joins your party at the end of the game.

Dialogue source: Solas Interaction with All Companions [ x ]

"Mala shivanas ar athim"

mala (your) shivana (to do one’s duty, conjugated) ar (I) athim (humble, humility)

The Elvish scans in Solas’ Hallelujah cadence, so I preserved it for the translation.

= “I am humbled by your duty," or, "Your sense of duty humbles me"

[sgiandubh]

I love your style, intelligent, down to earth, very practical, not in the 5-10 children in 7 years part of the fandom. Guess that’s why I’m very intrigued by your take on recent events. I feel a massive shift in their public behavior, very different from the last 6-7 years where they tried very hard to separate themselves from their characters and each other. Why do you think that is?

Dear @i-ship,

Thank you very much for the kind words. I try to keep things in check and base my opinions on solid facts. Not 'FACTS', mind you, but as much as possible publicly available documents and data. The not so public things (meaning you have to pay for those, which indicates a different confidentiality level) I keep for myself, because I am not an idiot: in no way, however, do they contradict the rest, in which case I would immediately recalibrate my analysis. I also know very well that confirmation bias has often been mentioned as a sad excuse across the street, when things didn't look good for them. That is wishful bullshit, because no legal professional would prostitute their skill in order to shoehorn reality into a given scenario. Papers speak by themselves - there is no need to stretch the information they contain, but yes, you can (and you should) interpret them. Therefore, all I did was to translate in everyday English what is often not accessible to everyone and wrap it in a bit of context. This is, apparently, a mortal sin and I know it is the main reason I am being hated with a passion, by many.

All of the above just to stress the fact that I am not easily swayed by sensational pics, tidbits and gifs. I may sound like a damned party pooper to you, but I prefer to patiently follow what I think is interesting, rather than childishly bounce on my chair every single time people see what they really saw a thousand times before, in eleven years of saga. Nor do I need to have confirmation four times a day of something that simply exists, irrespective of the fact I know about it or not.

I will say only this: C definitely looks as she DGAF about the whole circus anymore. It started with the piggyback pics, on March 25, continued with the Taylor Swift concert (the only time I allowed myself to oooh and awww at 4 AM) and is now seemingly confirmed by these new promo pics and interviews. Yes, they screeched 'it's fan service', but as far as I know nobody forced C to behave the way she clearly intends to show everyone. It's Season 7B, for Christ's sake, the script is hogwash and the acting is not so good (yes, I will need a rewatch to write something decently balanced about it), the audience numbers are dwindling and OL is on its way out. Hard truths, no matter how you turn it: why would she open again the door to 'speculation' (ah, but what's in a word?), especially considering this cesspool of a fandom's obsessive-compulsive collective behavior?

Unless...

Unless, @i-ship. Let's not write the script, but you got me. I hope this answers your question - at any rate, it was a pleasure trying to.

[completeoveranalysis]

[8]

FUN to find out that the entire reason Yuuko kept the store running in the first place was to help pay the price for Sakura’s existence. 

Also very interesting that, I think, the world of dreams is ‘the first’ world. Which makes a lot of sense, if every other world was built out of the promise of a dimension of dreams - which also explains why this place still exists if the rest of reality is broken or shattered. 

I’d love to hear a bit more about how she ‘warped’ the world. Like, does she mean by her existence or her actions? Was her pseudo-resurrection itself what warped the world of dreams, or does she mean that she took a part of the dimension and warped it into her store? Because I like that too! It threads a lot of connections behind the disappearing store that only appears when you need it, and Watanuki existing there just fine, and how it started to fade away when either Yuuko or existence itself started to crumble fall apart. 

There's also a little quirk of the wording where "in this store" kind of implies that they're in the store right now - which I suppose might as well be true. If the store is warped out of the world of dreams, and they're in that part of it now, then it makes sense that that's where Yuuko kind of still exists for the moment.

And THIS is fun too! Clow not even MEANING to try and break the universe to keep Yuuko (though that would have been delicious). Clow just being so infinitely powerful that his grief overtook his emotions and he just thought that he’d like her back and that was enough. That one unconscious wish was all it took to freeze her in time and crack a hole in the universe. 

No wonder he wanted to give up his power. No wonder he traded it away and broke it up and gave it to different people and hoped other people would do better. 

OH. Though that also confirms that it was not a wish granted by Evil Wolverine, as implied a few pages ago. I guess they translated the phase "that wish" without thinking about how it sounded in the moment.

Also - fascinating that Clow accidentally did Yuuko’s revival without even trying, but didn’t WANT to do the full thing. And Evil Wolverine has spent all this effort trying to Actually Do the real thing and having to shatter everything around him to get it to even partially work. Like, Evil Wolverine has done ALL this to try and FORCE the universe to do what he wants, and Clow was afraid of accidentally doing it by just thinking it too hard. 

Something something look what they need just to mimic a fraction of our power something something

I don't know what that's from

Oh and this page winds it back up with what I was just talking about earlier - Clow wanting to disestablish his own power because of how dangerous it was to reality itself. 

OOF. WOW. 

I was not expecting these reveals but like. I suppose if there’s only so many chapters left THEY WERE GOING TO COME SOON WEREN’T THEY?

FINAL VOLUME STARTING STRONG

[zyxelia]

Whispers Of Forever — Hajime Iwaizumi x Fem! Reader

Starring: Hajime Iwaizumi x Fem! Reader

Summary: After your marriage, you and your husband have your own drawer beside the bed. One day while cleaning, you see something on the drawer that looks like... A love letter? Oh, how could it be? You thought you already read all his love letters for you! (Spoiler: Curiosity gets the best of you!)

Word Count: 498 Words

Things To Note(s): -

Estimated Reading Time: 2-3 Minutes

a/n: It's almost new year!

Main Masterlist | Haikyuu!! Masterlist | Main Series Masterlist

My precious one, iwa-channn!!

To you, my dearest love.

For the first time in my life, I am enchanted— caught in the kind of spell I once thought existed only in dreams. Before you, everything felt distant and muted, but with you, the world feels softer and gentler, as though every corner of it has been touched by your light. You’ve filled the empty spaces within me with something so pure, so full of warmth, that I can hardly remember the cold that came before.

Whenever I think about you, it feels like a soft melody playing within me— a song only I can hear, yet it feels as though the entire universe is in tune with it. You’ve healed parts inside of me I thought would always stay broken, and in their place, you’ve brought light, love, and hope. There is a lightness in my soul now, a peace that I had long since forgotten was even possible. You make me feel whole again, like a puzzle whose missing pieces were always meant to be found, and you— my love— are the key that completed it.

Your eyes hold a gravity that draws me in, leaving me suspended, weightless, and unmoored. They hold stories, secrets, and worlds within them, and I feel privileged to be the one who gets to see them. The world fades away when I am with you. I lose myself in the depths of your gaze; I could spend an eternity simply losing myself in you.

It’s also the way I am fascinated by your voice. Every word you speak lingers in my heart like a melody I wish to never stop hearing. Each time you speak, I find myself drawn closer, wanting to hear more of your thoughts, your dreams, your fears— every piece of you that makes you the person I love more than anything else in this world.

It’s you.

Always you.

In the whispers of yesterday, the embrace of today, and the endless horizon of tomorrow, it will always be you. No matter where life takes us, or what challenges we face, you are the constant thread that ties me to this life.

You are my light in the darkness, my constant in the chaos, and the love I will cherish for as long as my heart is still beating. You are my beginning and my end, the keeper of my heart and soul, the one I will choose forever.

Upon meeting you, I have found my home, my peace, and the endless beauty of what it means to be truly alive. My love, in your arms, I have discovered what it means to truly live— to live not just with my heart, but with every part of me.

I have to admit, writing this letter is easier than speaking it directly to you. Thank you for being everything I never knew I needed, for being my dream made real, and for loving me in ways I could never have imagined.

You are, and always will be, my everything.

©️ zyxelia, 2024. Please do not translate, modify, or repost my work on any other platforms without asking. Thank you for understanding.

[quinnkdev]

i wrote a short thing about OFF, and my relationship to it as its translator; thoughts ive wanted to put into words for a while.

you can read it here as well, under the cut.

wait! wait... there is more to be said about OFF than, at the time of my previous review, i had the bandwidth for. i had, temporarily, reached a point of saturation with it - you only regurgitate a game's text again and again so many times until you start getting a bit weary of it, after all - but now that the bomb has burst and the remake is public knowledge (i kept that stuff secret for 2+ years!), i have the peace of mind to really unpack this. OFF was my companion for the late end of my teen years and more or less the whole of my current adulthood. the better - maybe even the best parts of my life - were (at least in part) shaped by adoration for and dedication to this game and its story. OFF survived the beginning and end of several friendships and relationships (romantic or otherwise) throughout my life, and i project it will survive many more - if not me, as a living human being. and i hope you understand that this is a lot to put into writing. can you imagine? something you did at 16 years old, because you were bored and liked a video game; a text someone else made, passed through you like a pamphlet - outgrowing you like that, becoming larger than you may ever be? i wrestle with that feeling frequently. some would grow resentful of the object of this kind of ruminating, especially as a writer and gamedev themselves- but i can't find it in me to ever hate OFF, no matter how often i hear about it; there simply is nothing like it. OFF has created several core memories that i can flash back to. i remember the knot in my stomach at its ending. i remember that it was time to sleep, and i remember staring at the ceiling, closing my eyes, and seeing void behind them, with white bedsheet ghosts floating there. i remember the resolve to translate it. i remember: "i have to show this to decon" (a friend that i've long since stopped speaking to). i remember isaiah (friend i lost touch with, number 2) asking me to keep working on the translation because he loved the game and wanted to know what happens in zone 2. i remember a vacation in france i mostly spent on a shoddy laptop my grandmother owned, on slow (maybe dial-up) internet, tinkering in RPG maker 2003, trying to make more headway in a language i only barely knew better than the one i was translating from. i remember this more than the majority of the relationship that introduced me to the game. that's sad to consider, isn't it? can a story be more significant than a person? i was very unwell for large parts of the time i spent working on this translation. i had dark thoughts; i feared impossible and possible things both. i was depressed, and i made very real attempts to turn the world in the only window i know - my eyes - off. permanently. and maybe- that is why OFF is larger than me. because in the negative space of its conclusion, in the turning of the final switch from ON to OFF, there lies a question: "is all this despair, all this hurt, all this misery and all of this unsolvable injustice of this world worth it?" and OFF, in my opinion, says: yes. or at least, for me it did. i'm not letting go of these memories, or of these stories, or of my adoration for this game. i love it more by the day. i owe a lot to it. this isn't a funeral, it's a celebration. thank you, OFF, and thank you, mortis ghost. i would not be here, i would not be this, and i would not be me without you.

[azelsdoormat]

Azel Radwan Main Story

► Preview

This translation is fanmade and strictly for entertainment purposes only. All media and original content belong to Cybird. Do not use, claim as your own, repost or reupload onto other platforms, reblogs are welcome.

<< Azel’s POV >>

True love— to me, is the most evil of curses that must never befall me. 

I have yet to come to know love.

But I want to someday fall in love and understand what it is. 

A passionate love like a rose set ablaze, and a fierce love that stays on for eternity like a woven tale. 

...

<< Emma’s POV >>

??? (Azel): I have some unfortunate news for you, who yearns for love and thirsts for knowledge of what it is.

???: Love is not the grand blessing it is often proclaimed to be. 

???: At the very least, love is something I would very much rather do without.

???: — For I am a god incapable of loving people. 

...

Clavis: Emma, you’re going to Tanzanite soon, right? 

Luke: Honestly, I didn't expect that you’d go without him tagging along. 

Rio: I really do want to go with her!! What if something happens to her when I’m not there…!? 

Rio: But if staying behind will help Emma feel more at ease on her trip, then I… I’ll… 

Clavis: Haha, you can be rest assured about that.

Clavis: Because we’ll be her bodyguards in your place. 

(Seriously, what's going on here!?) 

After fulfilling my duty as “Belle”, I set off for the dazzling kingdom of Tanzanite with the bookstore’s owner and self-proclaimed bodyguards—. 

That land was home to the one and only god revered by all its inhabitants. 

…

Azel: If you’re interested, I could divine your future for you.

Azel: Please, allow me to repay you for going out of your way to come to a place like this. 

I thought he was a benevolent and kind god. 

However—... 

…

Azel: It’s time for collection. 

Emma: C-collection of?

Azel: Don't tell me you thought I performed the divine art of fortune-telling for free?

Emma: But you said it was a token of gratitude…! 

Azel: Shall I let you know what happens when you defy me?  

His true nature turned out to be that of a money-obsessed and ill-natured god!? 

Fooled by his scheming antics and caught in his trap like a prey, I fell into a life of servitude, being worked to the bone like a slave… 

…

Azel: Be that as it may, I have another errand for you.

Emma: Another one!? I just came from shopping.

Azel: How pitiful. But I’ll have you remember that you’re indebted to me. 

Azel: You would be spared from running any more errands if you could repay your debt in full, however…

Azel: That's not at all possible, now is it? 

…

Azel: Delicious. 

Emma: Snacking is forbidden! 

Azel: Doesn’t matter whether I eat now or later. 

Emma: It’s bad manners. 

Azel: Preaching manners to a god? 

Emma: It doesn't matter whether you’re a god or human. Your feelings will never be conveyed effectively if you don't speak up. 

Emma: Sneaking bites of food or using me as a shield to fend off women, I’m not happy about either of those! 

But as I spent more time with this living god in his isolated castle in the desert, I came to realise something. 

…

Emma: First of all, you have an abnormal sense of personal boundaries. 

Azel: Huh? What does that mean? 

Emma: No one behaves like this with someone who's merely an acquaintance.

Emma: You said that you’d “hate if I fell for you”, and yet you have… a strange sense of personal boundaries. 

Emma: I’m surprised because you do many things that people normally don't. 

Azel: … Because I’m a god. 

Emma: That explains why you’re so detached from reality— 

Emma: *incoherent words* 

Azel: (muttering under his breath) —... I only did it because you looked cold. 

…

Emma: … By any chance, did the living god himself carry me to bed? 

Azel: … No.

Emma: Then what about the part where I was clinging onto you— 

Azel: That one is true.

Emma: “That one”? 

Azel: … 

(... I think I might be starting to understand Azel.) 

Before I knew it, an unfamiliar feeling began to sprout in my heart. A feeling different from the frustration I’d felt before… 

That feeling marked the beginning of a tragedy. 

…

Emma: … Countless people are suffering right before your eyes. 

Azel: And what about it? I’ve said it before, haven't I? I’ve long been disgusted by humans. 

Azel: If you think god is supposed to be some kind of benevolent entity, you make me laugh. 

Azel: Whatever happens to mere mortals is none of my concern. 

…

Azel: Akatsuki, I advise you to leave Tanzanite before the full moon. 

Akatsuki: … Are things about to get worse?

Azel: Indeed. It won’t be long before they do. 

The changes in the world grew closer with every passing moment. 

And then, the moment I discovered a truth hidden deep within the isolated castle in the desert — I came to know about a “curse”. 

…

Azel: You touched what you should never have.

Azel: Did you think you could get away with it unscathed? 

(After crying my heart out, I have to make a choice.) 

(Will this be where I bid farewell to Azel? Or…) 

…

Azel: When and where did I start going down the wrong path? I never intended to love you, not even in the slightest… 

Azel: I’ve lost my way… how terrible. And the worst part is that I can bring myself to hate it. 

…

The god started off praying to never know love, and eventually wished to know what love was in the end.

Is true love a curse that turns people into beasts, or—? 

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (XVIII)

Chapter 38: ‘They are elsewhere beyond the night way higher than day in the blinding brightness of their first love’

Hi! Here is a new chapter! Time for an… eventful second date! Also, I couldn’t find a decent translation of that poem, so I made one myself… sorry if it sounds a little clumsy.

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so no minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 3120

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Les enfants qui s’aiment

The children who love each other Kiss standing against the doors of the night And the passers-by who pass by point at them But the children who love each other Are not there for anyone

And it is only their shadows That shiver in the night Exciting the passers-by’s rage Their rage, their disdain Their laughter and their envy

The children who love each other Are not there for anyone They are elsewhere beyond the night Way higher than day In the blinding brightness Of their first love

Jacques Prévert

You looked at yourself in the mirror, considered your tenth outfit.

Yeah, that was the best one, you reckoned. You would settle for it. And even if it wasn’t the best one, you had already spent an hour getting ready and trying to pick your clothes for your second date with Andy, that was enough. He had literally seen you today at work, you had been friends for months, he had seen you naked at this point… your outfit was good enough. He knew what you looked like… you felt heat spread across your frame at the thought that he knew what you looked like under these clothes.

Better not think about that now, this activity was scheduled for later tonight. Now, you were ready to get going, head for the restaurant where you had booked a table for two. Andrew had planned the first date, you were the one to handle the second. Something much simpler, you hoped he wouldn’t mind. You had booked a table at a delicious Italian restaurant, knowing how much Andrew loved Italian food. You had bought him flowers, were planning on inviting him for the rest of the night. God, your body trembled at the memory of your previous weekend, of the pleasure that had spread throughout the night and morning following your first date. Andrew was definitely something else…

You cleared your throat, grabbed your purse and the flowers you had bought. You were the one to pick up Andrew tonight, you wanted to surprise him with the restaurant, he didn’t know where you were going.

So, you headed to his apartment, heart pounding, struggling to breathe, a strange mix of nerves and excitement. And love. So much love. What a lovesick fool you were…

You knocked, waiting for a reply that didn’t come. You frowned hard, rang the doorbell. Maybe he hadn’t heard you. You were starting to panic already, doubts about yourself and your own worth messing with your busy head.

But now the door was being unlocked, you relaxed again. He had simply not heard you knocking, everything was…

Andrew flung the door open, eyes wide with panic and fear. He was wearing sweatpants, hair messy, glasses lopsided on his nose. He looked at you with a puzzled expression. He blinked, eyes lingering on your body before settling on the flowers, which made his frown deepen. And then he looked into your eyes again and panic only grew, making his eyes impossibly round.

You had to admit that you were disappointed… you were going on a date, you had spent so much time getting ready… was he really going to wear sweatpants?

“Oh my God…” he let out in a breath.

“Hi!” you forced a smile, hiding your disappointment.

“Hi,” he answered automatically. “Christ… what time is it?”

“Erm… 7 p.m…”

“Christ! Holy shit…”

You raised a surprised eyebrow… but then the wave of disappointment that rushed against your heart could not be hidden.

He had forgotten about your date…

“I’m so sorry… I… I need to cancel for tonight.”

Cancel?

“What?” you mumbled, blinking tears away.

“I…”

But then you heard a whimper coming from inside his home, saw the look of terror in Andrew’s eyes.

“I was about to leave,” Andrew added, and he was frantic when he reached for his car keys, his jacket, his wallet, a cap…

“What’s happening?” you asked, voice fragile even though you didn’t want to look that way, even though you wanted to be strong and be mean and petty and go home to cry your heart out…

He stared at you for a moment, frozen in his movements.

“Are these for… ?” he trailed off, and you handed him the flowers.

“Yes, they’re for you.”

He blinked at you, stared at the bouquet as if he tried to understand the meaning behind your words, as if he couldn’t figure what it all meant.

He took the bouquet, you saw that he was blinking tears away.

“Oh… thanks, that’s very sweet,” he told you, voice soft and deep, making your heart melt.

But then the whimper came again, you noticed it was coming from the living room.

“What’s going on?” you asked again, but Andrew merely rushed to the room.

He let you follow him, put down the flowers on his coffee table.

Elwood was lying on his side on the carpet, eyes shining with tears, slightly panting.

“He’s sick,” Andrew mumbled, voice trembling with panic. “I don’t know… I don’t know what’s wrong. Everything was fine, and then we came back from our walk, I took a shower, I was about to get ready for our date when I heard him crying, and he was like this… I don’t know what’s going on…”

And then everything became clear. Instead of being disappointed, relief washed over you.

You weren’t the problem, he hadn’t forgotten you. Elwood was ill, he was about to head to the vet, Andrew was clearly panicking, he had not thought about warning you…

“We should take him to the vet,” you said, kneeling next to the dog and soothingly stroking his head to keep him calm, to reassure him.

“I was about to leave. Christ, I’m so sorry Y/N, I forgot to call to cancel for tonight…”

“That’s alright, it’s not your fault… Let’s take care of Elwood, yeah?”

Slowly, he nodded. You noticed the tears in his eyes, the way he was trying to remain calm, but he was clearly close to surrendering to panic.

“He’s gonna be alright, don’t worry.”

Your voice was soothing, reassuring, and when Andrew nodded, you noticed how his breathing became more regular, how he regained control of himself, for a part, at least.

“I’ve called the vet, they’re expecting us.”

“Okay, let’s get this good boy in the car, huh?” you cooed at the sick dog, and he closed his eyes as you stroked his head the way you knew he liked.

Andrew picked the dog in his arms, let you close the door of his home behind him. He had to slow down a couple of times on the way to the vet, fear making him drive above the speed limit. But your hand on his thigh seemed to help, you noticed how he let out long exhales whenever your rubbed circles there.

The vet was waiting, indeed. Andrew apologised for the late hour, but the vet was quick to reassure him. After a couple of minutes spent examining the dog, the conclusion was that Elwood must have eaten an object of some kind. An ultrasound scan revealed that he had indeed eaten a small screw. The vet was reassuring, there was no internal damage of any kind, but the form of the object and the relatively sharp edges were the cause for the dog’s pain. You were sent back in the waiting room while the vet was pumping Elwood’s stomach. You sat down in the chair next to Andrew, and he reached for your hand as soon as you were seated. Your hold on his fingers was as tight as his on your hand.

You were both quiet for a while, Andrew’s eyes fixed on the white ceiling, his expression unreadable. He seemed so big in the tiny waiting room, in a chair that seemed too small for him. A true giant.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

His voice was deeper than usual. Soft, gentle. You loved that about him. That he looked so big, so physically intimidating, but that the second he opened his mouth he was revealed as a gentle, kind soul. His voice was warm, reassuring. Quiet, most of the time. The sound always soothed you, anchored you, calmed you down. You felt safe whenever you could hear his voice, its softness wrapping around you like a cocoon.

“For coming here with me,” he clarified while giving your hand a squeeze. “I was… I was pretty scared for a moment.”

You gave him a reassuring smile, even if his eyes were still fixed on the ceiling, on the crack that ran through the white paint.

“You were about to shit your pants, you mean,” you teased, and it did make Andrew chuckle.

“Yeah, for a minute, I kind of was,” he admitted.

You studied the angle of his jaw, the length of his throat that extended like this, with his head tilted back. His hair was a messy bun, he took off his glasses to rub at his eyes with the back of his hand and didn’t put them back on just yet. He blinked a couple of times, looked up again, the back of his head resting against the wall behind his chair. Your eyes lingered on the freckle above his eye you could glimpse at from where you sat, on the corner of his lips that was still turned slightly upward after his laughter.

“I should have called you to cancel for tonight. I’m so sorry,” he went on, and the trace of his smile was gone for good.

“You should have,” you nodded. “But you were upset, you weren’t thinking straight. It’s okay.”

“Are you mad?”

“No, I’m not mad. I’m just relieved Elwood is going to be okay.”

“I still have no clue where that screw is coming from…”

“He’ll be okay.”

“I know… I know…”

“He’s going to deserve lots of treats and petting…”

“Like he doesn’t get lots of those already. I spoil him.”

You laughed.

“Yeah, I bet you do.”

A minute passed in silence. Andrew rubbed circles into the back of your hand.

“Can we still go on a date? Like… can we reschedule?”

“Of course.”

“Our real second date will be good, I promise.”

“I have to admit that I wasn’t expecting a vet appointment tonight,” you laughed again.

“Me neither,” he winced. “What had you planned?”

“Italian restaurant.”

“Fuck…”

As if on queue, his stomach let out a low rumble, and you both laughed at the sound.

“I love Italian food.”

“I know,” you nodded, and he finally turned to you.

You exchanged a tender smile, before he would lift your hand to his lips and kiss your knuckles. You grinned at the tender gesture.

“I mean… we could still order some pizza,” you offered. “Watch a movie or something.”

He seemed surprised by your offer.

“We’ll have to go to my place, I want to keep an eye on Elwood.”

“Of course.”

He nodded, clearly refraining a smile.

“I’ll make our real second date good. I promise.”

You heaved a sigh.

“Andy… I don’t care…”

You shook your head, tried to gather your words.

“I don’t care about what we do. I know what’s going on in your brain. I know you’re trying to convince me to stay or something… but you don’t have to. Not everything has to be perfect. It just needs to be us. I’m not going to leave simply because our date is not going according to plan, alright? Stop putting so much pressure on yourself.”

A tinge of playfulness lit up his gaze, tugged at the corner of his lips. He was about to become a cheeky, adorable menace, you knew he was. Still, you read in his eyes the gratefulness he felt at your words.

“So… I can come to our next date looking like a mess, like that? Sweatpants and disgusting hoodie?”

You couldn’t refrain a laugh.

“Forget what I said. Put pressure on yourself. So much pressure!”

You mumbled your next words, and he made you repeat them so he could understand them.

“Even like this, you look good,” you repeated, making him blush.

“You’re gorgeous, by the way,” he spoke tenderly, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles.

“Thanks,” you smiled.

“If we go back to my place, and have pizza and a movie, I’ll dress properly for you.”

“You don’t need to.”

“I feel foolish next to such a beauty.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart was stammering.

“Right…”

Soon enough, Elwood was free to go home. He would need a lot of rest in the coming days, but all was well now. Andrew carried him to his car, and then to his apartment, even though the dog was able to walk on his own now. He spent a while with his dog, petting him, speaking reassuring words while Elwood was lying on his cushion on the floor, and Andrew was sitting beside him. He waited until the dog was asleep, and then he joined you on the couch. You had let him take care of Elwood, feeling that he needed a moment alone. You could hear the quiet snore as the pet slept, tucked in his bed, close to the wall of the living room.

“Alright, I’m gonna get changed,” said Andrew. “You can order whatever you want for tonight.”

“You’re sure?”

“Course.”

“Then… pineapple on pizza it is…”

He spun around, waved a disapproving finger at you.

“I draw the line at slaughtering Italian food, be careful.”

You laughed, ordered your meal while he was getting ready.

When he reappeared with his hair brushed and falling on his shoulders, wearing a turtleneck and some brown trousers, you were too stunned to speak for a second. You let your eyes roam across his frame, studied the way his outfit complimented his body.

Your mouth watered, and you struggled to regulate your breathing.

“So… when is the crime against humanity being delivered?” he joked, sitting by your side again.

“Not too long now.”

“Grand. I’m starving.”

You cleared your throat.

“You… you look amazing, by the way,” you mumbled, trying to hide your reaction to him.

He smirked, leaned closer.

“Can I kiss my gorgeous girlfriend then?”

You nodded with a giggle, letting him close the space between your lips and his. The scent of his cologne was driving you crazy, the brush of his thumb across your cheekbone made you tremble.

Your food arrived sooner rather than later, you settled on the sofa to watch a movie while you ate and talked. Once your pizza (without pineapple) had disappeared, you cuddled into his arms, feeling his lips pressed to your hair every now and then.

“Thank you again for the flowers,” Andrew broke the comfortable silence that had settled between the two of you while you watched the movie. “I had never been given flowers before. That’s nice.”

You watched the bouquet that rested there, on his coffee table. He had put the flowers in a vase after coming home from the vet, they were a little wilted after spending some time without water, but Andrew didn’t seem to mind.

“It’s a silly gendered norm.”

He hummed in agreement.

“Thank you.”

You stopped paying attention to the movie when Andrew reached for your chin, gently guided your head towards his so he could kiss you once more. He tasted of the tomato on the pizza, of the red wine you had been drinking with your meal. His hold on your waist and chin tightened as you deepened the kiss, reached up to run your fingers through his hair.

You weren’t sure how you had found yourself straddling his laps, but you were now, the movie still playing behind you but it went on unnoticed. Your back was to the TV, the voices were drowned by your laboured breaths, by the blood thumping in your ears, by Andrew’s soft noises, a mixture of sighs and small growls.

And God… he was such a good kisser…

You shuddered when his hand slipped under your clothes to touch the skin of your shoulder. You paused, took a minute to find back your breathing although you didn’t move out of his embrace, merely rested your forehead against his.

“You’re okay?” he asked in a whisper, voice so deep it made your head spin.

You nodded, hummed.

“Can I be honest?” you asked, and Andrew was quick to encourage you to speak again.

“I really want to stay the night,” you whispered, making Andrew chuckle and nod, his nose brushing against yours in the process.

“I was hoping you would stay,” he admitted, and your heart made a happy jump at his confession.

“Someone’s trying to get laid…” you joked, and Andrew exploded with laughter, throwing his head back in bliss when you ridiculously wiggled your eyebrows at him.

“I should defend my honour as a gentleman,” he answered, grinning from ear to ear and struggling to speak as he still laughed, “but I would then be lying through my teeth. And we can’t have that.”

You laughed too.

“What do you want then?” you asked, your tone still playful, while Andrew was struggling to calm down.

“Oh… terrible things. Very… sinful in nature, definitely.”

He was holding your waist, cradling your cheek. When he blinked up at you, you felt so loved…

“You know, I… I know I kind of… ruined our date, but…”

“It’s not your fault, I’m not mad.”

“I know. And I… I’m grateful for your understanding, and for helping me tonight, for still being here. But I… Actually, I’m spending a very nice evening with you, despite the chaos I’ve provoked.”

You chuckled at that.

“I’m having a very nice evening too,” you nodded in agreement.

He brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, you felt your breath get caught in your throat at the sweet gesture.

“I know it didn’t go according to your plans, but… I’m very happy right now,” he spoke in a quiet, deep voice that made you feel safe and warm.

“I’m happy too,” you nodded.

“Can this still count as our second date?”

You laughed in surprise.

“Hmmm… yeah, okay. Only I have a couple of conditions.”

“Conditions?”

“Yes! First, we go to the Italian restaurant I had planned on taking you to for our next date, cause you’re going to love it.”

He nodded with a grin, and your heart made a happy jump at the thought that he was excited for another date with you.

“And second… we move to your bedroom now. Because… there are things that I want to do with you… and I can’t do them with Elwood in the same room as us.”

You noticed how Andrew’s cheeks turned crimson, he laughed good-heartedly at your joke, but couldn’t disagree.

“Sounds like a plan,” he nodded, before letting his gaze fall to your lips. “God, I want you so bad… you have no idea what you do to me.”

You bit on your lip, wore a suave voice when you reached for his cheek, tilted his face towards yours slowly. You noticed how his breathing became more irregular.

You heard him audibly choking at your next words.

“Why don’t you show me then?”

[meadow-sea]

here is part 2 of my glorious harumasa and ether aptitude regression syndrome (again calling it EARS) hcs because im not finished yapping (beware of possibly unclear and vague wording im not writing an essay here)

- harumasa sometimes experiences something like a phantom limb sensation where he feels sections or even his entire body is that of an ethereal. like his physical body stays the same but he feels he is in an ethereal body with all the ridges and warped limbs and proportions which makes interacting with things harder. (reason number 546 to avoid work)

- this translates over to my next hc that EARS will sometimes cause harumasa to just exist. from the perspective of an ethereal (thanatos specifically). like he'll keep his mind and memories but his senses will be replaced by an ethereal's. words will lose meaning, or gain new meanings, he wouldn't be able to talk much, if at all. ethereals exist in chaotic unstable hollows so it would be difficult for one, and harumasa by extension when in this state, to like do things. he knows what he is supposed to do hypothetically but executing it is another matter. (reason 471 to avoid work). like tf is a coffee machine, the carpet is coffee, chairs aren't chairs, everything is fixed to the ground and the ground is fixed to the sky and the coffee is and the coffee is and coffee type of shit. harumasa beats himself up over it. a lot. but not where anyone can see ofc.

- from his demo and trust events, we can infer that harumasa has trouble sleeping. i imagine that he has weird ass out of body dreams and paralysis. like having sleep paralysis, from the perspective of the sleep paralysis demon which is thanatos. roaming around new eridu as thanatos. that kind of stuff. i bet he's dreamt before of being in a my neighbour totoro situation where he's totoro, as a thanatos, at a bus stop with either soukaku or two random kids

- harumasa definitely has some ethereal like mannerisms to me. his dash attack is literally like thanatos. the way he moves is inhuman, smooth, unnaturally fluid in a way that training alone cannot achieve. very uncanny if you look closely. his direct gaze can be unnerving. this def isn't something he stresses about and practices to avoid why would you ask aha ha. his natural talent with archery is partially attributed to EARS along with sharp senses, observation skills and reflexes

- all of the above become more extreme depending on how long he’s been exposed to ether and to what level

believe it or not i am still not finished. i will continue the yap later so yet again i ask you to stay tuned. pretend i give you a charming wink as you read this. alsooo this post is linked to another so maybe read that one. i did say this is a part 2

[oqwomyo]

Butler's wedding party. Haures' card translation.

Part 1.

- Devil's Palace Garden -

- A Few Days After the Party -

*Step step step*

Haures: Tomorrow is finally the day I can spend time alone with Master...

Haures: Fufu... This will be fun. Being alone with Master after a wedding-style party...

Haures: In a way, it's like a vacation with family...

Haures: ...Oh my god, what am I saying... Phew... I'm excited.

Haures: I'm a butler... Moreover, I'm a leader who should set an example for other butlers.

Haures: I should always try to act like a butler.

Haures: Alright. After that, I need to check the plans for tomorrow again.

Haures: I need to make careful preparations so I can have a great time with Master. In the morning, we'll head to town by carriage...

Haures: ...Huh? This is...

***

When I was walking in the garden... I noticed Haures crouched down, looking at the flowers. He seemed lost in thought. Even when I approached him, he didn't seem to notice.

You: Haures, what is it?

Haures: Eh...? Ah, Master...

Haures: My apologies. I didn't notice you...

You: You were looking at the flowers.

Haures: Yes... It looks like Ammon planted some new varieties.

Haures: These flowers seemed familiar to me... I couldn't help but stare at them.

You: What kind of flowers are these?

Haures: No... In fact, I don't even know their names...

Haures: When my sister was little... I distinctly remember her giving me a flower just like this.

You: Lady Tricia...

Haures: Yes. It happened when she was very little.

Haures: Oops... Sorry. I talk too much about myself...

Haures: Master. Tomorrow is the day we'll spend time together.

Haures: If you don't mind, I'd like to show you around the city using the plan I prepared.

Haures: Do you have any requests, Master?

You: As long as we're together, I'm fine.

- I'll leave it up to Haures.

Haures: Heh... Okay.

Haures: As Master's butler... I'll do my best to make sure you enjoy this day.

Haures: Well then, Master. I have some preparations to make, so please excuse me.

You: Uh-huh, I'll be looking forward to it.

Haures: Thank you. Then...

Haures bowed to me, and then... He left after looking at the flowers once more.

That night... I was planning to go to bed early to prepare for tomorrow... Suddenly, Haures came to my room.

Haures: My apologies, Master. Forgive me for visiting so late.

You: What happened? Haures.

Haures: Yeah, to be honest... We were planning to go to the city tomorrow, but...

Haures: The plans have changed a bit. Could you please spend some time with me at the mansion?

As long as I can spend time with Haures, I don't care where I am, but...

You: Okay, but what happened?

The reason why he changed his mind... It was bothering me.

Haures: Uh... To be honest...

Haures: Looking at the flowers during the day... I mentioned that I remembered a moment from the past.

You: It was about Tricia.

Haures: Yeah. Actually, these memories...

Haures: This flower is from my sister... I remembered her asking me to marry her.

You: M-marry..?

Haures: Yes. Of course, Tricia was just a baby then...

Haures: She didn't really understand the meaning of that word... I think she was just imitating what she saw in a picture book.

Haures: ...Still, she loved me as an older brother... She made that clear...

Haures: It was so touching to see her express her love so sincerely... I was happy.

Haures: Remembering how I felt back then... I thought about it.

Haures: Sometimes, in order to make the other person happy... It's important to express your feelings...

You: To be honest about your feelings...

Haures: Yes... When I was thinking about it... I decided to change the plan.

Haures: That's all I can say for now. This story will continue tomorrow...

Haures: Well then, Master, I apologize. Have a good rest today.

You: O-Okay...

After Haures left... I repeated his words in my head many times. "To make another person happy, it may be important to honestly express your feelings." While I was thinking about these words... I didn't notice how I fell asleep.

Part 2.

- Devil's Palace Room -

The next morning... I was in my room, waiting for Haures to come get me.

Haures: Master. I've come.

You: Come in.

Haures: Good afternoon, Master.

Haures: Sorry for the wait. It took me longer than I expected to prepare.

You: Don't worry.

Haures: I see... Thank you for understanding.

Haures: Then, Master. As I said yesterday...

Haures: I'd like you to spend time with me in the mansion today. And what we... will be doing...

Haures: Master. Is it okay if we go to the garden?

You: The garden?

Haures: Yes. There's something... That I'd like to give to Master.

When Haures said that... His eyes were as serious as yesterday. When I looked at those eyes... Without asking why, I would follow him to the garden.

You: Okay, Haures.

Haures: Thank you.

Haures: Then... Let's go.

Being a little nervous... I went to the garden with Haures.

- Devil's Palace Garden -

- A few minutes later -

After we arrived at the garden... Haures asked me to wait. He said that he would bring what he wanted to give me. I glanced at the flowers that Haures was looking at yesterday. The flowers that brought back memories to Haures... The pale petals leave a beautiful impression.

You: Beautiful flowers...

When I thought about it... I heard a voice behind me.

???: Heh... Does Master think so too?

When I stood up and looked around... Haures was standing there holding a bouquet of flowers. The one tied with a ribbon... They were the same flowers we saw. Although I was confused... I couldn't help but sigh at the beauty of the bouquet.

You: How beautiful...

Haures: Fufu... Thank you, Master.

Haures: It seems Master liked it... I feel relieved.

Haures: It's just a bouquet of wildflowers, so it may not be as colorful as the flowers that are used for gifts, but...

Haures: In order to convey the feelings of the precious Master... I thought these flowers would be perfect.

Haures raised his head... And turned to me with a serious expression.

Haures: This may not be the appropriate choice of words for a butler, but... Please allow me to say it this way.

Haures: ...I love you, Master.

Haures: You have a kind and beautiful heart... The fact that I serve you...

Haures: I will always be proud of it.

You: Haures...

If you look... Haures' eyes were serious.

Haures: Master. If you can, I beg you...

Haures: This bouquet of flowers contains my feelings... Could you accept it?

Haures: To me, you are... Such an important person.

Haures: If Master wishes, I will...

Haures: Forever and ever... I promise to always be with you.

Haures handed me the bouquet. His eyes showed his incredible sincerity... I could feel his trust in me. When I received the bouquet of flowers he gave me... I took a step closer to him.

You: Likewise, take care of me from now on.

- I promise, Haures.

Haures: Master...

When I answered... Haures finally relaxed his face. His expression was completely different from before, with a calm smile on his face... And a feeling of comfort spread across my chest. Looking at me... Haures also narrowed his eyes happily.

- Devil's Palace Room -

- Later -

To decorate the room with a bouquet of flowers... Haures and I returned to the mansion.

Haures: Master. I'll bring a vase.

Haures: I'm thinking of decorating the room with the flowers I gave you earlier... Is that okay?

You: Sure.

Haures: Okay. Then I'll do it.

After saying that... Haures untied the ribbon and took off the wrapping of the bouquet. And the untied bow... Haures looked at it as if he wanted to say something.

You: Is there something wrong with the bow?

Haures: Ah... No, nothing.

Haures: But, um... The bouquet took so long to wrap...

Haures: However, it can be unwrapped in an instant... I was thinking about that.

You: Maybe this bouquet...

- Has Haures wrapped it?

Haures: Yeah... Honestly, that's it.

Haures: I'm not very good with my hands... I wanted to ask Ammon to wrap this bouquet, but...

Haures: In the end... Although I failed many times, I wrapped it myself.

Haures: Wrapping the flowers with someone else's hands to convey my feelings to the master... It felt wrong.

You: Is that so...

Haures: Yeah. I'm just ashamed of how clumsy I am.

You: That's not true.

- Thank you for doing this for me.

Haures: Master... Thank you.

Hearing my words... Haures smiled happily. But that smile... As Haures began to arrange the flowers in the vase, his expression gradually began to darken.

Haures: Um... Trimming the stems a bit to fit the vase...

He was having a hard time handling the flowers... I could tell he was taking it seriously. His awkward sincerity... I felt so happy.

You: ...Hey, Haures.

Haures: Yes. Master, what is it?

I took one of the flowers he gave me... I extended both my hands to him.

You: I love you too.

- Haures is important to me too.

Haures: ...!

Haures closed his eyes, and then... He blushed a little.

Haures: Fufu... Thank you, Master.

Haures: I got to meet such a wonderful person... I'm happy.

Haures: And, this... I feel a little embarrassed to say this myself, but...

Haures: I... I'm happy that Master thinks of me as someone important.

Haures looked at me... He narrowed his eyes in a friendly manner.

Haures: Um, Master... My plans for today...

Haures: When we drink tea together... Can we rest together?

Haures: I want to calm down and talk about various things with Master.

Haures: Like talking about memories...

You: What about the future?

Haures: Fufu, yeah. I think it would be fun to talk about it.

Haures: Master, please... Let's continue to be together forever.

Haures: Master is more important than anyone... I will make you happy like no one else...

After saying that... Haures carefully took the flower I offered him. This flower in his hands... It became bright and delicate.

[oddyseye]

I agree with your position on Calypso being childlike in Epic is detrimental to male victims of sexual assault, but it *is* within Homer's original work that the suitors had malicious thoughts about Penelope in a similar way. He didn't focus on it so explicitly like Jorge is going to do in Epic, but there are several times when Penelope mentions how much of a threat they are to 'us', and an additional moment where the suitors *do* deliberately express desire to have sex with her, and wait until she has left the room to speak in such a manner. From Wilson's translation:

She [Penelope] went back to her room, and took her son's uneasy words to heart. She went upstairs, along with both her slaves, and wept there for her dear Odysseus, until Athena gave her eyes sweet sleep.

Throughout the shadowy hall the suitors clamored, praying to lie beside her in her bed. Telemachus inhaled, then started speaking.

"You suitors, you are taking this too far. Let us enjoy the feast in peace. It is a lovely thing to listen to a bard, especially with one with such a godlike voice."

From Fagles' translation:

Astonished, she withdrew to her own room. She took to heart the clear good sense in what her son had said. Climbing up the loft chamber with her women, she fell to weeping for Odysseus, her beloved husband, till watchful Athena sealed her eyes with welcome sleep.

But the suitors broke into uproar through the shadowed halls, all of them lifting prayers to lie beside her, share her bed, until discreet Telemachus took command: "You suitors who plague my mother, you, you insolent, overweening... for this evening let us dine and take our pleasure, no more shouting now. What a fine thing it is to listen to such a bard as we have here --- the man sings like a god."

I do wish that Jorge had left in that aspect of Odysseus' time trapped with Calypso intact, as well as his time with Circe. The musical suffers without it because this then does seem to be like a sensationalism thing. Anyway, I have enjoyed reading your breakdowns so far! I hope to see more with the next saga coming out in a few days. Wishing you all the best.

Okay, first off, thank you for being respectful, unlike half the brain-dead trolls who can’t read. I appreciate that you came with receipts, and you know what? That’s rare around these streets, so kudos for that. Seriously. You clearly care about the material, and that deserves respect. But now, let me roll up my sleeves because I do have some things to say.

Here’s Wilson’s translation again, from the same scene you mentioned:

“The suitors made a din throughout the shadowy halls, each man praying to lie beside her in her bed.”

Praying. Highlight it. Circle it in red. These losers were not planning anything; they were fantasizing. Not plotting, not scheming, not planning some coordinated assault. Praying. These morons are fantasizing about her like horny teenagers, not predators with an actual plan. Because that is what they are. Youth.

Even Fagles, who’s more dramatic in his language, sticks to the same tone:

“The suitors broke into uproar through the shadowed halls, all of them lifting prayers to lie beside her, share her bed…”

Lifting prayers. Again, they’re fantasizing, not attacking. These guys are scum, but they’re not warriors. They’re lazy, spineless leeches who drink Odysseus’ wine and stuff their faces with his food while posturing like kings.

The original line goes as follows:

"οἱ δ᾽ εὐχόμενοι πάντες ἐπ᾽ ἀλλήλοισι λέγοντο κοιμηθεῖν."

Translated literally, it says:

“And they, all praying, said among themselves to lie with her.”

Let’s focus on εὐχόμενοι (euchomenoi), the main verb here. It’s crucial because it doesn’t mean “plotting” or “planning.” It means praying, wishing, or hoping — a nonviolent, internal desire directed toward the gods. These guys weren’t conspiring to assault Penelope. They were sitting around fantasizing and asking divine forces to grant them her love (or, more likely, her submission).

Now, let’s look at κοιμηθεῖν (koimethein), which translates to “to sleep”. It is...not even sexual. It is literally a normal verb, “to sleep.” Homer had plenty of vocabulary to describe acts of physical aggression if that’s what he wanted to imply. Words like βιάζω (biazō, meaning “to force”) or ἁρπάζω (harpazō, meaning “to seize”) are all over the Iliad and Odyssey. If the suitors were intending rape, Homer would’ve used more explicit language. He didn’t. Let me contrast this with an actual moment in the Odyssey where sexual violence is implied, when he recalls his time on the island of Calypso:

“ἔνθα μὲν ἀμφ᾽ ἀνάγκῃ, τῇ δὲ θεὰ ἐρῶσά μιν ἔσχε.” (“There he stayed out of necessity, for the goddess, in her love, held him there.”)

Notice the two parts here. Odysseus stayed out of necessity, not because he wanted to. And why was he there? Because Calypso held him. That’s not love. That’s entrapment. Homer makes it clear that Odysseus had no agency in this situation — he was kept there against his will.

Homer uses the same word when Odysseus describes his time with Circe:

“ἀλλ᾽ ἔμεν᾽ ἐν σπέσσι λαῶν ἀνάγκῃ.” (“But I stayed in her halls by necessity.”)

The word ἀνάγκῃ is usually translated to “necessity,” but its meaning runs so much deeper. It implies force, constraint, distress, even violence. This isn’t a neutral word, and it sure as hell isn’t romantic.

When the gods finally intervene in the situation with Calypso, Hermes doesn’t mince words:

“ἀλλ᾽ ἤτοι δὴ νῦν οὔ τοι θέμις ἐστὶν ἄνακτα θνητὸν ἀνδρῶν ἐρύκειν.” (“It is not lawful for you to keep a mortal man here.”)

The gods themselves have to tell Calypso to let him go because she won’t do it willingly. That’s not the behavior of a tragic lover — it’s the behavior of someone who refuses to relinquish control.

Even when she finally agrees to release Odysseus, she doesn’t make it easy for him. She says:

“καὶ τὸν ἔασα πονεύμενον οἴκαδε νοστῆσαι.” (“I will allow him, suffering, to return home.”)

Notice that word — πονεύμενον (poneumenon), meaning “suffering” or “toiling.” She’s not helping him. She’s forcing him to work for his freedom, as if she’s making him earn the right to escape. And what does she give him to leave? Not a ship, not safe passage — she hands him an axe and tells him to build his own raft. But anyway, back to the topic at hand. They suitors, yes, they are lusting after Penelope, but there’s no plan of attack here. They’re scum, but they’re cowardly scum. They want Penelope to hand herself over to them, not because they’re forcing her physically, but because they think they can break her spirit. The whole point of the suitors is that they’re lecherous freeloaders who don’t actually have the guts to do anything.

And let’s talk about context. Penelope is a queen. She’s surrounded by her maids, she has her son in the house, and she’s got the weight of Odysseus’ legacy protecting her. The suitors know they can’t just drag her off to a bedroom without consequences. They’re playing a long game of manipulation and coercion, trying to wear her down until she chooses one of them. That’s why they’re so frustrated by her weaving trick — because she’s outsmarting them at their own game.

If Homer had wanted to imply a real physical threat, he would’ve. This is the same guy who wrote gory, brutal battle scenes and didn’t shy away from dark topics. He wasn’t subtle. If the suitors were planning to physically assault Penelope, we would know. Instead, what we get is a bunch of entitled men sitting around, praying to get lucky.

Now, does this mean the suitors aren’t a threat? Of course not. Their presence is invasive, degrading, and psychologically abusive. Penelope has to endure their constant disrespect and their lewd comments, and that’s horrifying in its own way. But we have to call it what it is: harassment and coercion, not rape.

And I know some people will argue that it’s “just a retelling” and that Jorge has the right to make changes. Sure, he does. But if you’re going to adapt one of the most iconic texts in Western literature, you have a responsibility to understand what you’re working with. You can’t just slap modern trauma narratives onto these characters without considering the implications.

So yeah, I disagree with you. The suitors weren’t planning to rape Penelope. That’s not what Homer wrote, and it’s not what the story is about. The fact that so many people jump to that conclusion says more about our culture than it does about the text.

That said, I do appreciate your thoughtfulness and your willingness to engage in this discussion. It’s rare to see someone actually care about the nuances of the Odyssey, even if we don’t agree. Thanks for that.