#the g is pronounced with a Y sound

[diroxide]

Ah, some more MorphoGala! If that's okay... :D

Battlefield accident

[worshippedraindrop]

Character Creation. . .

"Start by imagining a place in the distant past. . . This is where your worship will begin to flourish."

Like I said in my campaign notes post, I wanna set this on an island that's kind of inspired by Neverland -- which means the people here are also inspired by Neverland (and I suppose, to some extent, the Lost Boys and also the pirate presence.) This island should be thriving -- it's in a tropical sea during a time when pollution hadn't wracked the skies and the wild spaces thrived. But it does not thrive; the seas here are dark and empty. No one would choose to live here, unless they had no where else to go.

And the people arriving have no where else to go. They are outlaws, hunted and haunted by their regrets, by their mistakes and by the ways they were broken before they ever had a choice in the matter.

And this island that no one would choose is the perfect place to hide, if you are a nobody.

"Then think about how your god came to be. . . "

When the runaways first came to the island, there was a drought; they did not mind this, because they had stores from their travels, and because they were a vicious lot who felt no mercy for the merchant ships that would pass by.

But it was a hard life. It was rough, and cold -- a hell the lot of them thought they deserved. And when the rain broke, it was a reminder of something soft within them, something peaceful. Calm rippled through them.

"Even hell on earth has to abate itself sometimes," they murmured to themselves, "Even the harshest life has it's peaceful days."

Even going about their work, the cool dampness was a blessing more than a burden.

It was this peace that made me open my eyes; a sudden breaking of misery. A sudden gratitude for the small blessings of life.

And that's how they called me -- Evloyia. The one who said it first -- who left out flowers for me -- said it was greek. He was a gentle man, compared to the others, full of a softness to his words and his eyes that belied what they all did when they went out to sea. The others listened to him, even if they did not respect him, because it was always so sad to see him falter in disappointment if you did not hear him out.

"I do not mind asking for another blessing in life," he said; "I do not mind asking for a little peace. Lord knows there is enough pain in this life."

And so I calm people down; I soften their aches -- I give them a little peace.

The man who first gave me flowers is called Aire; he is always following after another man, Winslow, like a puppy -- so much so that the other men sometimes seem to think it's love. Perhaps it is, but Winslow is a hard man to love -- cold and unforgiving, with his eyes perpetually fixed on the horizon, and he does not like me much. When the other men speak of me, he drinks from his bottle and scoffs, and I think that breaks Aire's heart a little bit inside.

There is someone else like me on this island, though I have only caught glimpses of them. They appear sometimes as a man and sometimes as a bird and for all the peace I bring, I can not stop them from instigating things -- causing fights among the men, or bad luck or nightmares. They call themself Hael, but that's all I know.

There are things I can do -- I can soothe pain, and I can summon rain. I can numb a person like drink, making them forget their troubles and themselves.

There are things Aire has given me -- a crown of flowers that I won't let wither; a small shrine decorated with shells and a rustic set of reed pipes (I don't know how to play them.)

And there are stories the men whisper among themselves. How Aire set out a dinner for me, and when I ate it they argued about whether there were animals on the island to have done it or whether those animals could have gotten it so fast. I shushed them, and they dropped it, but every now and then . . .

How Winslow was raging one day -- rampaging like a demon -- until the scent of rain picked up, and then he stood out as it misted, tilting his face to the sky, and whatever pain had been clouding his eyes seemed to vanish when he returned to their small camp on the beach.

How late at night, they'll hear music from my shrine even though no one is there, and they'll go to Aire and Aire will tell them silly little stories about nymphs and faeries.

And there is someone who sometimes comes to the island from the mainland, on days when I feel sleepy and lethargic. So far, he has not met the other men; they pass by each other by hair's breadth, and I try to keep it that way. But I think he senses trouble, or he senses me because he will speak to me. He calls himself Tochtli, and he seems to think the island is cursed.

I do not know why he insists on investigating it, but he draws in the sand when he wants me to come to him -- a palm leaf with a large globe of water clinging to it's fringes. He is seeking something, and believes I will keep him safe.

[arminsumi]

I want to kiss you / キスしたい

G. Satoru

NOTE: i recently started learning to write in japanese for not much reason other than to occupy my mind with something new. this little daydream came to me and i can't stop thinking about it, i think falling in love despite a language barrier is one of the purest and sweetest ways to fall in love.

WARNINGS — it might be fem reader idk, kissing 👍, ur married w him at the end, not proofread lol i'm snuggled up in bed ok

Satoru cant speak english and you cant speak japanese; Suguru is the translator friend. You met him online years ago, who knows how. But you hit it off, and four years of friendship rolled by.

Satoru heard all about Y/n and saw you many times when Suguru facetimed or called you. You and him had many cute, playful interactions, ranging from making hearthands at each other to flipping each other off and laughing about it. Sometimes Satoru would be sat off-camera, overloading Suguru with things to translate, because he had a lot to say to you. One time, Suguru left for a few minutes to get a pizza delivery, and then Satoru got very quiet and the two of you blinked at your screens.

"Hi."

"Hi."

And then you two for some reason started laughing with your whole chests, Suguru walked in with a confused smirk. He joked, "Sooo... what did you and Satoru talk about while I was gone?" He asked, gentle accent coming through in soft waves. "The mysteries of the universe." You replied. Satoru was already diving into the pizza box, but he still listened to you speak; he wondered what you had said, maybe you used some fancy words to say that you liked him? He'd be lying if he said he didn't memorize variations of "i like you" after that. He was paranoid that he could miss you saying that you liked him.

You managed a slow, meticulously-pronounced nice to meet you in Japanese when you finally visited Tokyo. It was at the airport. You and Suguru had shared many hugs — good grief, you'd seen height comparisons many times but none painted a real idea of just how big these boys were. But Satoru? He was loudmouthed on a screen and surprisingly shy in person. Eventually he hugged you and didn't let go. He even got so comfy as to hang and cling to your body like you saw him doing with Suguru in countless photos and videos.

Though you could barely pronounce the little Japanese that you picked up, Satoru felt giddy to hear your pretty voice in his language. He listened to you like you were reciting love poetry to him, fists under his chin and eyes starry. But you were just saying basic phrases, boring things — nothing that articulated your thoughts properly.

He was far too embarrassed to try and speak any English when he first met you, even though after developing a crush on you he did start learning some English on the side. He knew quite a bit, but listening was so impossibly difficult it frustrated him like nothing else. He was also self-conscious of his English accent, though Suguru tried to assure him that he sounded very cute and almost oddly British.

So often instead of attempting to speak tiny phrases to you, Satoru threw a lot of hand motions and signals your way which got the two of you and Suguru laughing — poor Sugie, he was always translating even the smallest things you said even if you muttered them under your breath, because Satoru was eager to know every little thought and expression you had, even if you were simply commenting on the weather.

Once you commented that it was so hot, you were visiting during a heatwave-filled summer. Satoru raised his brows at Suguru expectantly, and you heard a familiar translation;

暑い。

It's hot.

There was such a frustrating language barrier between the two of you, it became more evident when you had finally flown over the sea to meet them.

Yet you and satoru fell in love silently and beautifully, your love flowing like a river in the most unexpected directions. You felt his affection emanating from his irises. You and him joked around, and talked — though you had no idea what the other meant most of the time. Sometimes the two of you gave up and you talked in English, he responded with Japanese, and it went on like that very comedically until Suguru came back to bridge the gap.

Lots of time was spent putting your heads together over your phone, reading translations of what you wanted to say to each other.

One day, when Suguru left the two of you alone in his apartment kitchen so that he could hop to the convenience store, Satoru typed something into the translator and let you read it. Your face warmed up.

キスしたい。

I want to kiss you.

He looks at you expectantly.

You type back to him.

Then kiss me.

それからキスして。

He blushed and hesistated, the two of you making electric eye contact for a while before he boyishly pecked your lips to test if you liked his kiss, but oh that's all the two of you needed to realize just how much you liked each other. You melted into each other like your bodies were made for nothing else but to embrace and be one. He shook a little, tentatively gliding his lips over yours. His hands nervously cupped your cheeks. With the way he handled you so carefully, you'd think you were made of porcelain.

Your reciprocation meant everything to him. His confidence flourished. The soft smacking, wet sounds got louder when he kissed you more passionately. Those gentle hands found their way to the back of your neck, and he softly pressed you closer to him as if he was scared you would pull away. What if you changed your mind mid-kiss? He was overthinking and you wouldn't have even guessed it, because you thought he was in the same blissed out dream state as you were. So high on kissing that the world fell away.

The two of you started smiling embarrassedly, grinning so hard that you couldn't continue kissing. Then the two of you just giggled against each other's faces — a subconscious realization swept him; laughter and kissing are their own languages.

Yes as years passed and you visited time and time again, your Japanese improved and his English improved. When you moved to Japan, eventually you adopted a messy mix of Japanese and English with Satoru. He liked showing off how perfectly he could pronounce things, and you liked showing off that you could write very neat kana.

Years and years and years passed and when you and him were married in your own little apartment, starting a life together, a very fluent Satoru reminisced about how the two of you fell in love despite barely speaking to each other.

"It was your eyes for me." You said.

"Oh really? It was your voice for me. I didn't know what you were saying, but it sounded nice." He said.

"Mmm I liked your voice, too." You said, snuggling your head on his shoulder. He basked in the attention, though it was common, it always felt special for him. The smallest hand touches and wrist kisses made his heart lurch.

"Remember when I always nagged Suguru to translate every little thing you said?"

"Yeah, you worked him to the bone." You chuckled.

"I just wanted to know what you were saying. I had such a crush on you, looking back now it was even ridiculous how much I liked you considering the barrier and all."

"Ooh, did you?"

"How is this surprising? We're married??"

"Oh yeah."

[bbkoolkatz]

𝖋𝖆𝖙𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖊𝖓!

comment to be added to the taglist for this story!

»»————> presenting;

pairing: barbarian!prince! Katsuki Bakugo x chief!daughter! reader.

synopsis: an arranged marriage to the prince of the barbarian clan to save your kingdom from being wiped out... cliche innit. stem's off the MHA fantasy au!

content warnings: FEMALE READER! strangers to lovers! slow burn! MHA fantasy AU! adult themes! arranged marriage! sexual content! rough n gruff Katsuki! mentions of blood in a lot of scenes! rituals! dub-con in some scenes! (for caution, because y'all can't understand each other) if u're religious, PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION!!! angst! fluff! smut! WARNINGS APPLY TO ALL CHAPTERS!!! and are there to exercise caution!

updated on Wednesdays and Saturdays!

𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊↓; 2.5k+ words

»»————> LORE! [you can continue without reading all this]

the barbarian clan is known for conquering any village, kingdom and/or empire. they are brutes, usually settling anything by waging war and desecrating the land.

the barbarians speak in old Norse! conversing is difficult...

Katsuki is the only son and prince of the barbarian clan.

barbarians are stronger and bigger in size than regular humans.

your kingdom is ruled by your father—called cheif instead of king—who's a big softy and doesn't see the point in things like war... he prefers to talk things out and leave casualties to a zero. even if that means marrying off his only daughter...

you are the only daughter of your father which only makes you more precious and worthy of bearing the heir of both your kingdom and their clan.

tetsugami; a huge, semi intelligent crab. [there are few now as people have hunted them down to the double digits.]

crimson dragons; giant flying lizards. [they are very friendly despite their mean looking faces & their scales are extremely valuable.]

(more coming soon)

Old Norse Alphabet;

1. A/a- Pronunciation: ah as in "father."

2. B/b- Pronunciation: b as in "bed."

3. D/d- Pronunciation: d as in "dog."

4. Ð/ð (called eth)- Pronunciation: Soft th as in "this."

5. E/e- Pronunciation: eh as in "bed."

6. F/f- Pronunciation: f as in "fox." Between vowels, pronounced as v.

7. G/g- Pronunciation: g as in "go." After certain vowels, it softens to a y sound.

8. H/h- Pronunciation: h as in "house."

9. I/i- Pronunciation: ee as in "see."

10. J/j- Pronunciation: y as in "yes."

11. K/k- Pronunciation: k as in "king."

12. L/l- Pronunciation: l as in "lamp."

13. M/m- Pronunciation: m as in "man."

14. N/n- Pronunciation: n as in "name."

15. O/o- Pronunciation: aw as in "law."

16. P/p- Pronunciation: p as in "pen."

17. R/r- Pronunciation: Rolled r, like in Spanish or Italian.

18. S/s- Pronunciation: s as in "see."

19. T/t- Pronunciation: t as in "top."

20. U/u- Pronunciation: oo as in "moon."

21. V/v- Pronunciation: Often interchangeable with f, pronounced like English v.

22. Y/y- Pronunciation: Similar to ee but with rounded lips, like French u in lune.

23. Þ/þ (called thorn)- Pronunciation: Hard th as in "thorn."

24. Æ/æ- Pronunciation: ai as in "air."

25. Ö/ö- Pronunciation: ur as in "bird" (without the r).

M-LIST!

𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 1 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 2

marriage. the best thing that could ever happen to a girl. all your life, you'd imagined being a bride; delicately decorating your hair with wild tulips, adorning your body in silver and white silk. spending the rest of your life with the person you love most.

now you're here, kneeling in front of a bonfire beside a complete stranger, cloaked in boar fur and animal skeletons, as the thick, warm blood of a lamb is poured over you. your marriage ceremony... filled with unfamiliar faces—including your now-husband—and traditions. drinking, dancing, and celebrating the union.

"nú ger hana konu þína!" a spiked-blonde woman, with an uncanny resemblance to the man kneeling beside you, announced, raising her hands in the air. you looked around confused as ever, as he leaned in, blood-stained fingers pulling you in by the back of your neck. your nose scrunched at the metallic taste of blood that his tongue shoved past your teeth. you push him away, gasping at the foreign feeling.

"hvat í helvíti, kona!?" he frowned, turning away from you, mumbling something under his breath, that you didn’t quite catch. not that you'd understand what he was carrying on about anyways...

the spiked-blonde woman—whom you guessed to be some sort of priestess or elder—shot you a sharp glare, her arms lowering slowly as she spoke in a hushed yet commanding tone. her words were incomprehensible to you, but the crowd seemed to murmur in agreement. your husband huffed, his frown deepening as he looked at you over his shoulder. you were kneeling there, with eyes pressing on you from all directions. the fire crackled in the silence, and the warmth of it did little to ease the chill settling in your chest.

two women approached you, their faces painted with intricate swirls of red and black. they tugged you to your feet without a word and began guiding you toward a tent decorated with bones, animal pelts, and dried herbs hanging from the entrance. inside, it was dimly lit by a few small lanterns. the air smelled of earth, smoke, and something sweet but unfamiliar.

they gestured for you to sit on a low stool and began pulling at your ceremonial garb, their movements quick but not unkind. your protests fell on deaf ears as they stripped you of the heavy fur cloak, wiping the blood from your skin with damp cloths. one of them muttered something, shaking her head as she scrubbed at your face. it was clear they didn't understand you either, but their disapproving looks were universal.

by the time they were finished, you were dressed in a simpler gown of rough-spun fabric, a far cry from the silks you were used to and had imagined for your wedding night. the older of the two handed you a wooden cup filled with a thick, bitter scented liquid. she pointed to it, then your mouth, her expression stern. reluctantly, you sipped it, grimacing at the taste. the woman nodded, seemingly satisfied, before they left you alone in the tent.

you sat there, staring at your hands, trying to gather your thoughts, but instead, they drift back to just a few mere hours ago...

-

"arranged?" you seethed in disbelief, looking at your defeated father, seated across from you at the council table, surrounded by old wrinkled elders.

"yes, daughter," he affirmed, voice devoid of emotion. "war against the barbarian clan would destroy everything we've built—"

"so they made a proposal, a very very rare one," one of the wart ridden elders interrupted-

"to make an arrangement," another continued-

"one that cannot be broken once forged," -

"a marriage,"-

"your sacrifice would save us all, child," the eldest croaked, concluding the proposal, "and as the chief's daughter, it is your duty to your people." one after the other, they all slowly turned their heads toward you, kneeling at the center of their godforsaken grey gazes.

your eyes flickered between them, their crinkled foreheads making you feel sick to your stomach as their words wrung your heartstrings. "marriage is sacred... it can only happen once. i don't know this person that you'd like me to be bound to for the rest of my life..." you snarled, stating the very obvious to those expired raisins.

"i'm afraid you misunderstood us, girl," the eldest fumed, weakly slamming his fist down, "it is arranged. you will wed the heir of the barbarian clan. that is why you have been summoned." firmly raising from his seat to intimidate you.

"that is my daughter you're speaking to, elder... as old as you are, mind your tongue." your father shifted his attention to you. "unfortunately, he is right, my dear. it's already been arranged, and you are to be wed at sundown."

dumbfounded... that's the look on your face. they we're giving you away to complete strangers... and at sundown!? despite all the colorful words that wanted to fly out your mouth, you grit your teeth and settled with a curt nod. you do have a duty to your people.

though it wasn't supposed to happen like this. it was supposed to be the happiest day of your life. you only get married once in your entire life after all.

-

the sound of heavy footsteps outside the tent snapped you out of your thoughts. the flap was pulled aside roughly, and your husband stepped in. his presence filled the small space, his broad shoulders and wild blonde hair almost brushing the top of the tent as his crimson eyes bore into you, a mixture of frustration and curiosity in his gaze.

he said something, his voice sharp and demanding, but you could only blink up at him in confusion. "i don't understand you," you said softly, shaking your head, as your voice trembled, despite your efforts to stay composed.

he huffed, combing a hand through his hair before pointing at you and then gesturing to the pallet of furs in the corner of the tent. his tone suggested he was giving you an order. when you didn't move, he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"leggjask. sofa." he barked, his frustration very much evident. when you still didn't respond, he crossed the space between you in two long strides, grabbing your wrist and pulling you to your feet. the roughness of his grip made you wince, but he didn't seem to notice as he guided you toward the furs. he pointed again, his expression leaving no room for argument.

you hesitated, thinking that maybe he wanted you to lie down, and slowly you lower yourself onto the makeshift bed. he stood over you for a moment, his intense gaze making your skin prickle, before he turned and left the tent without another word.

you let out a shaky breath, your heart pounding in your chest. you were alone in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by strangers who you couldn't even get to know, married to a man you didn't understand. tears pricked at the corners of your eyes with the overwhelming thoughts, but you blinked them away, refusing to let yourself break down on your wedding night.

the two women that cleaned you up earlier came back with him, and they began to remove his furs. you quickly averted your eyes, feeling a heat crawling up your neck, as the thought of them removing more than just his cloak tainted your mind.

"nei!" the old one scolded, "Þú verður að líta!" ... why are they babbling their jibberish when they know you don't understand them... "she said, 'you must look'," the younger translated, seeing the confused wrinkle in your brows. oh thank the gods! you smiled briefly at the familiar words before coming back to your senses.

"must i?" you blush, slowly turning back to them.

"yes," she smiled, cleansing your huge husband before your eyes, "if you do not, you give chance for another woman," she carefully rubbed the damp cloth over his bloody forehead while you let the thought sink in.

"leave," you softly ordered, "I'll take care of my husband," and without hesitation she whispered to the old lady, they dropped everything and left. ain't no way you were about to let your husband be seduced away on the night of your union...

gently, you wrung the cloth of most of its water and brought it back up to his face, wiping away the dust and dried blood that covered little scars freckling his almost perfect face.

his eyes burned through your skull with his staring, slowly scanning over the curves and dips of your body as you moved. your finger danced over his skin, tracing the scar on his right cheekbone, moving down to brush past his thin lips, wiping away the remnants of dirt on his well built, chest. he seemed to relax against your touch, closing his piercing crimson eyes, and hanging his head back to let you do your work.

so soft... and smooth... the texture of his skin isn't what you expected. who would've thought that such a rough looking barbarian had the skin of a baby? would explain all the scars though. like this one running down his neck to his collarbone, and these over here trailing down his firm biceps. you almost forgot you were supposed to be cleaning him up... you've finished the upper half and tugged at the leather holding his pants up, struggling to get them undone.

a low chuckle rumbled in his throat and your eyes shot up up to his smirking face, "what's so funny?" you quiver, frowning, as he shifted to stand, undoing the leather and dropping his pants to the dirt floor. "þar," he rasped, smug at your flustered state.

having those women clean him up was starting to seem more and more reasonable now... nevertheless, you dippied the cloth in the bowl of warm water and squeezed it, before wiping at his lower abdomen. you're so adorable between his legs like that, avoiding his eyes at all costs, while you wipe your way down and around, to his back. again, your hands moved of their own accord, twitching along the scupletd bumps on his back.

he grunted softly as your fingers worked over the knots in his shoulders, his broad frame shifting slightly under your touch. emboldened by the lack of protest, you continued, pressing harder into the muscles along his spine. his head dipped forward, and a low sigh escaped his lips, sending a wave of warmth through you. he brought a large hand up to yours on his shoulders and guided you in front of him.

both your eyes reflected in each other's for a long moment before you tried to break the silence, your words sounding like nonsensical ringing in his ears. he pulled you into his chest, just holding you there in an attempt to shush you, closing his eyes as his brows pinched over them.

"what's your name?" you asked softly, your voice barely audible over the crackling of the distant bonfire. you paused, waiting for a response, but he didn't seem to react, his eyes still closed as if savoring the moment. you tried again, a little louder this time, "what is your name?" you pointed at his chest.

he peeped through his eyelids, a sliver of vermilion meeting yours with a flicker of confusion. "nafnið mitt?" he asked, the foreign words rolling off his tongue. he tilted his head, as though trying to piece together what you were asking.

you frowned, gesturing to yourself. "i'm…" you said your name slowly, pointing at your chest, then gestured to him, raising your brows expectantly.

he blinked, mildly confused, before a smirk tugged at his lips. "Katsuki," he said, his voice low and rough. he tapped his chest, meeting your eyes again. "Kat-su-ki," he repeated, in the same manner you pronounced yours, ensuring you understood.

"Ka-tsu-ki…" you tested the name on your tongue, the unfamiliar syllables feeling oddly satisfying. his smirk widened slightly, pleased that you had caught on.

you nodded, offering a small smile in return, then gestured to yourself again. "my name is…" you repeated your name slowly once more, hoping to bridge the language barrier. his brows furrowed, lips moving as he attempted to mimic the unfamiliar sounds. his effort was clumsy but endearing, and you couldn't help the small laugh that escaped you.

his frown deepened at your amusement. he murmured your name under his breath a few more times, his pronunciation improving with each attempt, until he finally said it with enough accuracy to make you grin.

"that's right!" you cheered softly, nodding in approval.

he held your gaze for a moment longer, his expression unreadable, before his hand came up to gently brush against your cheek. his touch was surprisingly tender, his calloused fingers rough against your skin, but warm.

"sofa," he murmured again, his tone softer this time. he gestured toward the furs, his crimson eyes watching you closely.

you hesitated, unsure if he was commanding you or simply suggesting something. this is it. you thought, heart racing, as you slowly nodded, giving him a glance over your shoulder, before crawling onto the makeshift bed.

he stood for a moment, watching as you adjusted yourself among the furs, before he joined, sinking beside your head with his weight on his palms, caging you in under him. his hair fell beautifully over his narrow, glowing eyes, his nose brushing against yours as he lowered to your quivering lips, sucking them between his, tugging at your plump bottom lip with his teeth.

footsteps thumping right outside your tent made your heart race, thinking someone was coming, but he didn't stop, nor did he care, he hiked up the thin fabric of your dress, his large hand caressing your upper thigh as he shed the leather covering his— good god... you look down and your eyes widened. he smirked and hooked the strap of your dress with a finger to pull it down, and expose your heaving chest.

"Katsuki!" the blonde woman from earlier yelled, barging into the tent, "Tak hendur þínar af henni, þú þarft at vera við ráðsafn. núna!"

"För Guðs sakar, kona!" he yelled back, moving himself off you to sit. he looked up at her worried frown... "Ek kem..." you had no idea what was happening... eyes darting between them as their words flowed out of their mouth and their hands moved in frustration as they spoke.

katsuki looked back at you, a worried expression overtaking the lustful one he had mere seconds ago. he kneeled down kissed you, then threw on his cloak and left. the woman rested a comforting hand on your shoulder, gently smiling before she too headed out, leaving you alone, following behind your husband.

»»————> 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖘𝖑𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘; <————««

❈ "Nú ger hana konu þína." - now make her your wife

❈ "hvat í helvíti, kona!?" - what in the hell woman!?

❈ "þar" - there

❈ "nafnið mitt?" - my name?

❈ "leggjask" lie down

❈ "sofa" - sleep

❈ "Katsuki! Tak hendur þínar af henni, þú þarft at vera við ráðsafn. núna!"- katsuki! take your hands off her, you need to be at the council gathering. now!

❈ "För Guðs sakar, kona!" - for gods sake, woman!

❈ "Ek kem..." - I'm coming...

hope u enjoyed and look forward to more! don't forget to comment to be added to the taglist! mwah~♡

mlist!

[the-froschamethyst4]

Baby talk

𖤐Pairing: Husband! Price x Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, daddy Price, married couple, children, language,

𖤐Summary: Y/n was on a girls trip with her friends and Price was told by his wife that when he's not around his daughter Iris talks, so he tries when Y/n is away.

————

—————

"Okay, you got everything?" Price asked his wife.

"Yes, I have everything, do you have everything under control?"

"Yes, my love, I have everything under control, now go have fun," Price hurried his wife out of the house as she went to her best friends car. "Bye-Bye, see ya' Saturday night," Price kisses her lips and pats her butt as she walked off the porch.

"MAKE SURE MY WIFE COMES BACK IN ONE PIECE PLEASE!!"

"WE'LL TRY!!"

Price walked back into his house and saw his 12 month old daughter Iris, sitting on the ground hitting her knees and kicking her feet as there was a cardboard book sitting at her feet.

"Baby girl," he coos getting her to look up at him, she smiles and kicks her feet again. "Come on, baby," he claps his hands and grabbed the book from her feet and laid next to her.

"Okay, baby, I was told by mama, that you are talking...I bet I can get you to say dada before mama gets home...I should not say m a m a in front of you first off," he says. Iris laughs and kicks her feet. He smiles at her and gently pinches at her plump tummy.

"Huh? Dada...dada...da...da..." he says, by Iris laughs and crawls on her hands and knees to grab her stuff lion that sat a few feet in front of her. "Iris, baby girl, say dada for me please. M a m a, says you can talk, you've talked before, say dada." Price begs her but she doesn't listen.

Price let's out a groan and fell on his back arms out wide and he looked up at the ceiling. Price mumbled to himself as Iris waddled to Price, she squats next to him and then gets on his chest.

He gives out a soft huff as she plopped on his chest. She laughs at him.

"Are you laughing at my pain?" He asked, looking up at her, she just giggles. "You are such a giggly girl," he says.

Price picked up his daughter, she laughed and kissed Price's cheek. "Aww~, thank you, baby girl," he says, kissing her forehead.

--------

Iris sat on the couch next to Price, he was watching his football match (soccer for the Americans). Price looked down at Iris and picked her up on the cushions and made her look at him, she was giggling kicking her feet and bring her fists to her mouth.

"Ah! Don't do that, you're too old to do that," he says, giggling at her and pulling her hands from her mouth.

"Ah!" She coos.

"...Dada?" He says.

"Ah!" She coos again.

"Okay..." he sounded like he was going to give up but wanted to keep trying. "Can you say football?"

"Ah!"

"Come on, I know you can talk, baby girl."

"Ah!" She points at the Christmas decorations and pointed to an ornaments on the Christmas tree. He gets up and holds Iris to his chest.

"Which one, baby?" He asks, she points to one that had all the classic Disney dogs like Tramp, Lady, Pluto, Pongo, Max, Copper and Bolt. In the middle was a picture of Iris when she was first born.

"What's his name?" He points the classic dalmatian.

"B-Bongo," she says. It shocked Price hearing her speak.

"P, baby. Pongo."

"Bongo."

"Close enough," he chuckles rubbing his noses on hers. "Who's this one?" Price points to the white dog.

"Bolt!" The one she could pronounce.

---------

Price had called Y/n and she thought something was wrong but luckily Price was able to reasure her.

"No, my love, everything is fine, she finally talked!" He says, excitedly.

"Oh, Price, that's good news," she says, he can feel her smile through the phone.

"Her first word is bongo."

"Bongo?"

"Not so long story, we were looking at that ornament with the dogs on it."

"Oh the Disney dogs?"

"Yep," he says popping the 'P'.

"Well, not really, Price. Her first word was mama."

"WHAT!?"

"I told you that, remember?"

"I honestly think I was half asleep when you told me that." She giggles at him. "Man, I wanted her to say dada first."

"You're a little late in the game there, daddy."

"Don't tease me like that."

"Like what? Daddy."

"Y/n."

"Price~" Price was trying to hold back some words of his own but he was interrupted by Iris whining from the couch on where Price might have gone.

"I'm being called, I'll talk to you later?"

"Maybe~" she teases. He shakes his head.

"Bye, my love." He says, hanging up. He places his phone down on the marble counter and goes back to his daughter picking her up and kissing her forehead and cheek to tell her he was back and everything was just fine.

"It's okay, baby," he says as her whines slowly disappeared.

"Mama," she whines.

"I know, baby, mama's away right now, she'll be back soon, I promise," he says.

---------

"UNCLE SOAP IS IN THE HOUSE!" Soap calls out kicking the front door open and holding bags in his hands.

"Don't kick his door, you fucking idiot," Ghost hits Soap upside his head.

"Ow."

"Hey, fellas," Price said, picking Iris up. Iris immediately makes grabby hands towards Ghost. His mask fascinates Iris. He takes her from Price's grasp, she's immediately trying to take his mask off. But he does it for her exposing his face that was slightly covered in scars and a busted up bottom lip.

"What happened to your lip, Simon?" Price asked, taking the bags from Soap.

"He got into a bar, fight." Soap says.

"I didn't know she has a boyfriend."

"Ohh~ Simon," Price says.

"She flirted with me first," Simons says.

"Can we start cooking? I wanna watch the game," Soap asks.

--------

The guys had made burritos for the night, their own style and Iris was eating some food Price had made for her some mash potatoes, mashes peas and some diced carrots.

She sat between Price and Simon eating her food, she was pushed against the back cushions, her plate on her lap and sat ate the peas and carrots, Price leaned back to look at her as Simon leaned on his knees and turned to look at her as well.

She just eats her carrots with her plastic pink fork and looked up at her father and gave him a big smile. Simons' heart fluttered seeing her smile.

"See what I mean, Simon?"

"It's the baby fever," Simon says, leaning back against the couch cushions and looking down at Iris.

"COME ON!" Soap yells making the other two men see what they are missing and yelled with Soap, Iris didn't know what was happening and wanted to yell as well.

So, as the grown men yelled, you can barely hear a high pitched scream over the loud men. Once the goal was made the guys cheered some more and Price looks down at his daughter smiling at her.

--------

Saturday

"Mama's coming home," Price says to his daughter.

"Mama?" She says.

"Yep, mama," he says, kissing her puffy cheeks.

As Price and Iris stood by the kitchen window they saw Y/n's best friends' car pull up into the driveway. Price opened the front door as Y/n was getting out of the car.

"My baby!" She calls out. Iris giggled and kicked her feet as Y/n took her from her father's arms, she kissed her daughter's forehead and kissed Price's lips.

Price got her bags from the car and waved 'goodbye' to her best friend and they went back inside the house. Y/n kissed her daughters cheeks again and rubbed her nose on her cheeks as well.

"You smell like lavender baby," Y/n says.

"I just gave her bath," Price says, coming up behind Y/n and holding her waist as Iris placed her head on Y/n's shoulder and played with her necklace that Price gave her on their honeymoon.

"I'm missed you two," she says, cupping her husbands face with her right hand and kissing his lips and looking down at her daughter in her arms.

"Dada!" Iris says, looking up at her father.

"HUH! YES, ME DADA!!" Price takes his daughter and peppered kisses all over her face.

[seokch4n]

jake talks u thru ur orgasm

jake x afab reader

CW: switch!jake and y/n, dubious consent(kinda idk), no plot like straight to fingering lol, dirty talk, pet names, vaginal fingering, edging, pussy slapping, cunnilingus, handjob, position switches, spit as lube, unprotected sex, overstimulation

a/n: i think i got notified someone sent this in and there was more to it but i only saw that he talks u thru an orgasm😭 alsoooo this isnt beta read, ENJOY <3

3 of his fingers take up space in your hole off the bat, you throw your head back in a moan. jake chuckles at your reaction “feel that good, babe?” he twists his fingers just right. “ah- YES, right there”. you moan as soon as he grazed your g-spot.

his fingers get faster and his thumb rubs your clit. you let out a breathy “fucc jake”. “want me to go faster, luv?” you didn’t even pronounce the y in yes before he almost pistons into your cunt. each intrusion u let out a “ah” or “yes”. you’re almost there “JAKE fucccc”.

he stops to circle his finger around ur clit. u whine and jake teases, “u were sooo close i know” he pouts. the rubbing pauses and u feel a smack right on your clit “FUCK” and 4 fingers enter you “puppy pls”. with a airy voice you plead “pl- AH let me cum, i’ll be so good”. he slows his fingers down “do you think you deserve that, pet?” he’s moving his fingers up and down your cunt, occasionally dipping a fingertip inside. you try not to sound too impatient “yes, yes, i’ll ride you so good after i promise. suck you so good” u throw ur head back, catching ur breathe. not seeing jake move his body lower onto the bed, his face level with your cunt.

he sucks your clit and you SCREAM “YES YESSS JAKEY HARDER”. he obeys then plunges 3 fingers back in your hole, moving his hand as fast as he can. he stops his suction, slowing his hand down “hmm idk hun, maybe I should fucc u thru it”. he’s rubbing atop ur cunt making a thinking face.

you’ve had enuff.

out of frustration you lift jake up so you’re face-to-face and roll over to switch positions. u sit up and reach behind you to upzip his fly and rub at Jake’s erection. he sucks his breath in looking up at you. “fucc y/n” you move ur body so that ur cunt humps his erection.

“you wanted this didn’t you?” jake nods and bites his lip. you smirk down at him and take his dick out his boxers, spit into ur hand and move it up and down the long, hard shaft.

“babe I thought you wanted to dominate today?” u tilt ur head and he mumbles “i do, i really do”. u hum and spit into ur hand one last time, rubbing his dick one more time and lining it up with ur cunt. you drop down, circling ur hips. Jake moans “so fuccin tight, even after all the prep”. you wiggle ur hips and he smacks ur ass “fucccc babe do that again” u do it again still getting used to the fullness.

after a minute of this jake gets impatient and pulls h down eating your face. u reciprocate in no time letting ur tongues circle eachother. he moves before you know it you’re rolled over to your original position and jake is putting your leg atop his shoulder, pulling out and slamming back in.

“PUP FUCK do that again” jake slowly pulls out and smacks ur hips with his once more. “YES” he continues his harsh thrusts. “thought you could get to me today, huh?” he breathes in and out. you nod quickly “you’re always so good to me ja- FUCCC right there, RIGHT THERE”. each thrust grazes your g-spot. “cum for me doll” your stomach tightens and you’re creaming all over Jake’s thick length. “so fuccin good for me” he looks up at you, noticing you’re holding your breath “breathe kitten, breathe, been waiting all day to see u like this” Jake slows his thrusts to lean over and kiss your nose and top lip. He backs away with a smirk, putting both your legs over his shoulders.

Jake continues his harsh thrusts. the overstimulation making it almost hurt. he bites his lip, “i’m almost there bby, sooo close” each drag feeling just right. his thrusts quicken and he pulls out just in time to cum all over your stomach.

he lays beside u kissing your shoulder, “let’s go get cleaned up”.

reqs are open!!

a/n: my edging kink jumped OUT in this lmaooo

[alexanderwales]

When you have a small child, you do a lot of interpretation, but the most difficult one I ever ran across was when my son was two years old. The word sounded like "autonomy goose".

Me: Autonomy goose? Him: Autonomy goose. Me: You're saying autonomy goose? Him: Autonomy goose. Me: I don't think I know what that is. Him: Autonomy goose.

So this was a mystery for at least a week, especially because he kept saying it, and there were some variations in how he was pronouncing it, but it was just utterly opaque to me, and apparently important to him.

And then one day it just came to me:

Me: When you're saying "autonomy goose", do you mean "construction vehicles"? Him: Ya.

And after I understood, it took some time to break down what was actually happening. The key insight was that it was "y goose", i.e. /iˈɡus/, a word on its own, since I'd been hearing the word break wrong, if it was there at all. So "vehicles" without the "h" is /ˈvi.ə.kl̩z/, the "v" is dropped, the vowels get simplified, and "k" and "g" are right next to each other (voiceless vs. voice velar stop), same with "s" and "z" (voiceless vs. voiced alveolar fricative).

And "autonom" to "construction" was even weirder (/kənˈstɹʌkʃən/ → /ɔˈtɑ.nə.m/). Surely part of this was just me trying to listen extremely carefully and having no idea what the word actually was, and some was poor articulation from a boy who was still learning to speak. The complex cluster /stɹʌk/ gets simplified, both "k" sounds get deleted, the number of syllables remains roughly the same, and it was just easier for him to say, maybe because it becomes consistent consonant-vowel patterned.

So this was what was so important to him at two that he kept trying to get us to understand: there were construction vehicles.

[wolfytae-exe]

Ouija. (S) (A)

summary: in which your boredom leads to stupid decisions and dangerous consequences.

warning: fear, anxiety, predator & prey, seance, dubcon, dacryphilia, breeding(?) kink, name-calling(cutie, darling, little human, dollface), degrading(slut, whore, nasty), sadism, forced orgasm, death, gore, marking(if you squint), praise at some point, jjun really enjoys the mcs pain, master kink, biting, aphrodisiac,

paring: Incubus! Yeonjun + afab! Reader

wc: 3.4k

Playlist

It’s cold; was October always this cold? You shiver in your living room, a mug of freshly brewed coffee steaming in between your sweater-pawed hands, allowing the apartment to smell like pumpkin spice.

Your TV replacing a fireplace and warm fairy lights are the only thing lighting the area around you as you relax on the couch, the cushions cold as you struggle to afford a heater.

You’re fresh out of school, majoring in linguistics had you living off waitress tips and your savings at the moment, but as badly as it stresses you out, you can’t help but feel content, affording yourself and your life is enough for you to enjoy your coffee and warm lights in autumn. Not to mention it’s your favorite time of the year, Halloween time.

You already had your Halloween candy out, sitting in a big bowl with purple and orange candies on it, waiting for the clock to strike midnight so you can enjoy Hallows Eve in the best fashion, an Ouija board. You knew there was no need to freak out, you messed with the board a couple of years back with a group of sophomore college students during a Halloween party, and the lack of movement in the planchette caused an embarrassment like no other that night.

with one last sip of your coffee, you checked your watch. 12:02 AM October 31, 2023, you sat up and set your coffee down grabbed the box holding the board, and placed it on your coffee table. With a sigh, you pulled the board and planchette out along with the instructions.

After glancing at the paper a shiver ran down your spine. ‘DO NOT USE ALONE.’ scribbled in bold all over the page, you couldn’t make out the other words all over it. “What kinda sick joke?” You muttered as you held up the planchette. It’s Halloween, this is supposed to be creepy, you told yourself before placing it on the board.

You placed your fingers in the planchette and took in a breath. “Is there anyone here with me?” You asked with a slight shake in your voice, anxiety racked you as the room dropped in temperature and the planchette began to move slowly. The sound of the wood rubbing made you want to let go, the planchette didn’t do this before, what the fuck what the actual fuck.

The circle of the planchette hovered over the word ‘YES.’ “O-Okay- Uh, are you nice?” You asked, knowing it was dumb to ask a spirit, why would it ever say it’s bad? The planchette didn’t move for a moment before moving to the letters. ‘H-U-N-G-R-Y’ You gulped, lump in your throat refusing to move. “I-I’m sorry about that uh- what’s your name? Who am I talking to?” You tried to change the topic as goosebumps rose on your skin from the cold.

The planchette didn’t move again for a moment before repeating itself. ‘H-U-N-G-R-Y’ then it moved again, staying on the Y extra long. ‘Y-E-O-N-J-U-N’ the planchette froze. “Is that Korean? But you speak English? Interesting..” You breathed. “What are you Yeonjun?” You asked, pronouncing the name to the best of your abilities as you were rusty in the language, your anxiety lessened the more interesting the spirit became.

The planchette moves. ‘D-E-M-O-N’ never mind, anxiety was back and stronger than before. “O-Oh.. And what do demons eat” You pant, actually terrified now as the planchette moves faster, more fluid, like the control wasn’t in your hands anymore. ‘L-E-T G-O- H-U-N-G-R-Y- L-E-T- Y-E-O-N-J- Y-/-N- D-E-M-O-I-N-C-U-B- L-E-T-G-O -H-U-N-G-R- GOODBYE.’

Your stomach dropped and you could no longer see, unsure whether to let go or not as your lights flickered and switched off, your teeth chattered as you shut your eyes and tried not to cry. “Yeonjun! I don’t understand!” You begged, knowing you weren’t going to get any answers, you were going to die. Your fingers slipped off the planchette, covering your ears as you couldn’t handle the silence.

Eventually, your light flickered back on and the board seemed fine, you seemed fine, you deducted from your ability to breathe, see, hear, and feel. “What the fuck..” You sighed before grabbing the planchette and board and putting it back in the box. Yeah, you were done, it’s time to sleep and throw that board away in the morning.

And that’s exactly what you did, you showered, changed into a warm hoodie and shorts, and tucked yourself right into your bed, ignoring the feeling of being watched and chalking it down to just being paranoid. It took you a while but you were able to put yourself to sleep.

Unbeknownst to you, however, you had a guest, a very hungry and awake guest. Yeonjun watched as you slept, tossing and turning every few minutes. God, he was starving, you looked so cute and tasty he just wanted to ravage you. Yeonjun hid in the shadows of your room a bit longer before giving in to his hunger.

As the demon moved into the light of your nightlight and onto your bed by your feet his clothes disappeared in the dark red smoke surrounding him. His eyes began to glow a sharp red, in contrast to his black hair as a long tail and sharp horn twisted from his lower back and hairline, the sound of his bones maneuvering and crunching to fit the additions along with a deep moan following it filled your room and invaded your dreams.

Your blanket moved over you, hovering over your frame, you curled up, whining before slowly opening your eyes to see why your warmth was gone. A scream left you fast, ringing loud into the room as red glowing eyes stared back from under your blanket, a grip on your hips coming quick, the feeling of the sharp nails causing a whimper to leave you. “P-Please..” You cried for your life, you’re too young to die. “Spare me please.” Tears fell from your eyes, sliding down your cheeks helplessly.

“Yeonjun please,” You knew using his name would do absolutely nothing. “So cute~” His voice rumbled from under the covers, a taunting purr etched into his tone. “You’re not dying yet, Y/N,” He wickedly chuckled. “You just have to feed me, and maybe I’ll let you live longer.” The eyes under the bed darkened, pupils in slits like cats and blood red in hunger.

“I-I- Anything please, I’m sorry I’ll feed you,” You pleaded, attempting to move only to yelp at his nails digging deeper into you, drawing blood. “Ow! I said yes! Yes! Let go please!” You panicked, kicking before the pain seeped into you deeper like you were being branded. “Ah- Stop!” You kicked harder but his grip never loosened. “I like it when humans fight~” A dark chuckle filled the room as he rose.

His horns being the first to catch your eyes, twisted and coiled into the sky, what you didn’t expect was his face, foxy eyes, and plump lips curled into a smile, he was beautiful. But the demon still had you pinned and in pain.

He rose higher, face to your chest and you noticed the bareness of him, his thighs brushing against yours. “Wh-“ You gasp out as you feel his hard cock pressing up against your clothes heat. Tears well up in your eyes again as he slowly ruts into you. “What- What are you..?” You whimper, too scared to let your voice go over a whisper.

Yeonjun cooed before pressing small kisses to your neck and cheek. “I told you,” you let out a sob as he spoke, a moan coming from in as a response. “I’m a demon, a very hungry one at that. An Incubus if you’re asking for my breed. Speaking of breeding.” He moans out, thrusting harder. A yelp leaves your lips as he grabs your hair, pulling back so you are level with him.

“You look so scared, but I can smell it, you’re so aroused~” He smiles, the red glint in his eyes lighting up at the way your legs shook under him. “That’s why you summoned me, isn’t it? You just wanna get dicked down, let go of all your stress?” You couldn’t respond, trying hard not to burst into more tears at the way his cock left you wanting more, wasn’t this assault? Why do you want him to stop and just fuck you already?

“Please… Stop- I don’t want this,” you plead, you knew you were lying, he knew you were lying, he’ll help you relax. “Shh, calm that pretty head little human.” the demon whispered before leaning in and kissing you, you fought, squeals leaving your throat as your hands lifted to hit him, only to be pulled back and pinned to the bed. A sob left you again, you wanted him to leave, you wanted to turn back time and never use that board again.

His tongue pushed through, long and snake-like, you could feel his saliva slide down your throat with ease, numbing the back of your tongue on the way down. Once he pulled away and took a good look at you he smiled. “Huening would eat you up, I’m so glad I answered you instead of that freak.” He knew you’d feel the effects soon, his saliva working as an aphrodisiac slowly but surely. “I got to you first and I don’t share my food.” His sharp tooth grin was the last thing you saw clearly.

Your mind almost instantly felt foggy before a pulse of pleasure shot through you. “Oh- God! What- What did you do to me?!” Your thighs attempted to slam shut on the demon, a rush of arousal ruining your panties. “God won’t save you, Y/N, you have to ask the devil for forgiveness this time.” The demon taunted as he watched your skin turn clammy, sweat dampening your forehead.

Your chest rose up and down, breathing uneasily. “I-It’s hot- ” You panted, the heat you wanted so much ran over your body in waves making you feel suffocated, the pressure in your lower tummy making your head spin. “Relax cutie, it’s just an aphrodisiac, don’t worry your pretty little head.” Yeonjun dipped down, head in between your neck now. You didn’t even feel him at first, mind blown over with disgusting, distasteful, explicit scenes.

“You’re so hot.” Yeonjun chuckled into your neck, licking and kissing at it before biting down, his sharp teeth ripping into your skin and holding on like a vice. You screamed, screamed like hell, there was no pleasure, no arousal; just raw searing pain. Hot tears ran down your face as you clawed the demon, you could feel your blood rushing out be wound like a broken dam, you could feel Yeonjun lap it up, moaning and growling at your taste.

When he finally pulled off his bloody face looked up in pure pleasure like your blood was his aphrodisiac. “Your soul will be such a nice dessert. I won the jackpot tonight.” All you could do was cry, blood stained your sheets and pillow, you couldn’t breathe and you felt like you were gonna die. That was until another wave of heat crashed over your body, you tensed, a whine ripping through your sobs as you felt the teeth marks on your neck closing up, skin building back fast and rough, stretching and burning until completely sealed into a scar of his bite. You were marked with his scent, with his life.

You could have sworn you blacked out, the pain becoming far too much to handle, too fragile as your heart beat fast, pumping back the blood you lost. By the time you came to, you were naked, sprawled out into a star shape, and unable to move. Yeonjun was nowhere to be found but the phantom of his bite and the tightness in your stomach lingered. A sob left you once more, unable to stop when the realization that this was all real crashed into you like a truck.

The more you moved your neck to see yourself, you realized how badly your body was used, bruises and bites riddled all over your arms and legs, scratches all over your torso, hips, and breasts. Your body burned, and arousal pooled under your ass as the aphrodisiac continued to move in waves, as disgusting as you felt you knew you needed Yeonjun. He did this to you, he knows you need him too, that’s why he left. You didn’t deserve this, everything was a mistake, you didn’t know an actual demon would be coming to torture and kill you, you just wanted to celebrate the spooky season.

“Why me..” You sobbed harder, tears rolling into your ears and hair. “Because you’re just so fun to play with darling~” You flinch, Yeonjun's voice vibrates through the walls, a rush of arousal and fear finds its way to you just at the sound of him.

“Stop this…Please..” You mutter helplessly. “But don’t you want my cock? Wanna be filled with my cum?” The demon taunted, still failing to show himself.

“I’ve cum so much in the time you’ve been out darling, your body is just so tasty I couldn’t help it.” You can hear the smirk in his voice before you see it, he’s crouching just at the foot of the bed watching your cunt push out more arousal. “Want me to fuck you?” He grins evilly, “Maybe I’ll keep you if you’re a good fuck, feed me so well.”

A whine leaves you at the thought of him splitting you open, nipples rubbing against one another as he thrusts, legs stretched wide and open for him to take you fully and completely. “Please- Yeonjun please-“ You needed him, needed him in you, anything to stop this sickening edge. “N-Need you-“ You whimper, as much as you wanted him you were terrified of what would happen afterward. You knew he’d kill you, but would it hurt, is it as painful as this? Is it as painful as knowing you’ll never see your friends and family again but all you can do is get dicked down beforehand.

Maybe this was a sign you were a shitty person after all, after the attempts to be a happy woman and live life to the fullest you still were horrible enough to suffer this way. “Get out of that pretty little head and look at me,” Yeonjun growled, eyes glowing in the darkness, his cock pushed against your folds so nicely, your slick way more than enough to help the stretch.

You let out a moan at the feeling of his cold cock, everything was cold about the demon, just another reminder he was anything but human. “Mmm so full already, you must not get good cock often.” The demon teased as he rubbed his cock against your sore clit. A whine was your only response, your hips unable to move. “Shh, Let master take care of you,” Yeonjun whispered before pushing in nice and slow.

“B-Big- too- Ah~ too much~” You moan out as the demon bottomed out into you. You were so close, so delirious, you could feel him everywhere. “Let me take over you, mmm yes~ Just like that, give in to me, melt under my cock.” Yeonjun growled as you clenched and shook. Slowly he dragged out of your soaked hole, letting the pull be nice and slow, he wanted you to feel it all, the veins, the way he emptied you and made you feel like nothing but a shell without his cock inside you.

“Please~ M-Mmmaster~ More please please please~ need you, nothing without your cock please-“ Your begging was cut fast as Yeonjun thrust himself right back into you, filling you so quickly you felt him in your throat. Your eyes rolled back as Yeonjun sped up, hitting that one spot that gave him such an incredible burst of energy. “You love master's cock huh? Say it! You love my cock don’t you?” Yeonjun’s hand found its way to your throat and his thrusts never slowed.

You were turned to mush, unable to even breathe as his hand tightened around your throat. Strained whines gargled from the back of your throat as you attempted to answer him. A loud “Nghh-yesss~“ left you as your toes curled and your pussy clenched around his cock that just would not stop ramming into the spongy part of your heat. Your orgasm hit like a truck, you couldn't hear or see Yeonjun anymore, and your body tingled like pins and needles pricked you all over.

It took a couple of seconds for your high to come down and soon you could see Yeonjun's changed, darkened, expression. He was still, staring at his fist that stayed closed slightly on your throat. Before you could draw in a breath, his eyes began to glow brighter, so bright you could make out the features on his face a lot better. They were sharper than before, his soft face long gone and replaced with the features of a true demon.

His cock stayed buried in your cunt, keeping you nice and full and his fist began to close tighter, causing panic to run through your veins and your lungs to burn as they pumped against each other fast for relief. You couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't think, you were going to die; he was going to kill you, you knew it. “Did Master say you could cum?” His voice was rough and deeper than before, leaving your already sore cunt to clench around him again.

“Oh~ you like when master has to threaten your life?” Yeonjun growled, completely unamused. Soon enough when he could hear your heart pick up in pace he let go of your throat, watching you gasp and shudder for air. “Be a good slut and lay pretty.” He growls out before digging his claws into your hips and beginning to abuse your sore, overused cunt again.

Your mouth fell open, whines, squeals, and mewls pulled from your burning, dry throat as he thrust fast and hard without reprieve. “This the good fuck you wanted huh? Give you my hot cum before I take that soiled little soul of yours.” Yeonjun leaned down into your face, forehead pressed against yours as he moved his hands to wrap your legs around his waist. You sobbed in response, completely numb in your lower half. You didn't want to die at all, you’ve barely even hit your mid-twenties.

The sight had Yeonjun reeling, his long snake tongue slipping out to lick the big fat tears that ran down your face with a hum at the saltiness. “Keep crying dollface, you're so tasty when you're this scared.” The demon taunted before pressing kisses to the violated side of your complexion.

You whimpered, unable to handle the fear of the fact that he not only was going to kill you, but he was going to enjoy every bit of it and make you orgasm again in the process. “Ah- yeah suck me in like that~ bring yourself closer to your last breath.” He moaned with a chuckle at the end, “Make master cum in your needy pussy,” he continued before throwing his head back at the way you clenched tighter. “Yes- oh yes just like that- mm~ you're so good~” Yeonjun whined before his heavy hips stuttered and stilled deep in you.

More tears fell, sobs loud and broken as your throat couldn't take the torture. “Nononono- please nnnah~” you begged the demon not to cum, not to stop and end your life. Your wails and cries did nothing as he spilled more and more cum deep into you, coating your gummy walls in his hot sticky seed. “Ah~ Yes~” Yeonjun sighed at the release he felt before thrusting just a bit more to milk out more of his cum, a ring of your creamy orgasms mixed against his balls.

“Mmm~ all done, dollface~” Yeonjun smirked as he watched you pant and scream for help. “Ngh~ yes keep begging, feels so good~” Yeonjun moaned out before pressing kisses against your jaw and cheek. “Wanna live! Please- I wanna live!” You begged him and turned your head to face him. “So cute~ But my mind is made up.” Yeonjun smiled before his jaw opened up wide and inhumanely.

You attempted to scream again, fear being the last emotion you felt as his chest puffed slightly, and your breath left you once again. You could feel your heart slow and your veins slowly rub against each other as your skin grayed out. You couldn't move or speak, just watch with teary eyes as he slurped up a wispy, white, and smoke-like ball. The moment he swallowed he pulled out of your mummified corpse, feeling full and satisfied. “Tasty to the end.” Yeonjun sighed before disappearing under those pesky covers.

it's cold

okay, I had to repost this so it could get out there. If this doesn't fix the issue I don't know what will to be honest.

[sammyluvr]

makes you wonder — sam winchester

cw : gn!awkward!reader, fluff, uses y/n, some of the lore/history is totally made up, swearing, workplace bullying/verbal harassment (i’m so sorry if your name is mark, he’s the asshole character), likely contains a few mistakes, mentions of canon typical violence and monsters, 5.2K words. requested !

summary : you’re the local expert on ancient weaponry, and fake fbi agent sam needs your help finding a certain dagger for a case. pronunciation guide (using scottish gaelic) : each-uishge — yahk-oosh-ga (hk is pronounced in the back of the throat like loch). biodag — bidag (the g is almost a k sound) [ disclaimer, i found these pronunciations off of the internet! i’m not scottish nor do i speak scottish gaelic, so if anyone can correct anything i got wrong, i’d be super grateful for it! ]

certainly including the fact that it’s exactly what you want to be doing, working as a curator at your city’s history museum is near total perfection for you. not without much hard work and research, you were able to get a job that focuses on your specialty. historic weaponry. plus, your extra knowledge and fascination with mythologies and folklore gave you the perfect edge (pun intended) during interviews.

as a plus, you’re also able to spend minimal time interacting with people, even less so with those who don’t share the common interest of at least museum curation. of course, even that can’t magic away your awkwardness, and you still dread team meetings, but none of your coworkers save the resident asshole care at all when you stumble over your words or speak in clunky sentences. you’re smart, kind, and good at your job, so everyone except mark lessinger is more than happy to have you around. mark, the aforementioned resident asshole, is only around still because he’s the single person for miles who cares about the bland history of the town that is “strongly encouraged” by the local government to be kept in the museum. you’re sure he doesn’t do anything other than watch tv shows at his desk, lounge in the museum café. and make snide comments about anybody he can, because that exhibit hasn’t been updated in years and likely never will be unless something spectacular happens.

when you hear the click of the office door opening, you glance up from the work on your desk on instinct. it’s no surprise to see the devil himself (a mean and entirely pathetic thirty-four year old white man) walk through the door. mark was probably off slacking in the café like he does whenever he can get away with it, which is often considering he has nothing helpful to offer anyway. 

it’s the man who follows him that snags at your gaze and keeps your eyes lingering on the doorway for a second longer than usual. in the split second that you take his appearance in, you’re surprised by how much you want to keep looking at him, rather than the diagram of a seventeenth century revolver you’re hoping to include in the exhibit you’re planning for next fall. the gun is fascinating to you, moreso than just about anyone who could walk in that door. but something about this man is beautiful, so much so that you don’t want to look away. then both mark’s and his eyes fall on you, and you snap your chin back down to refocus on your work. this, of course, doesn’t work, because you can still feel them looking at you.

“that’s them right there. you know, weapons are the only thing that they’re useful for,” mark begins to ramble, and now you know without a doubt that they’re headed towards you, “which, unfortunately, isn’t very helpful at all most of the time. but maybe they can do you some good, agent.”

that word is what catches your attention; you don’t even blink at the condescending tone to his voice or the fact that he doesn’t make any sort of attempt to hide his criticisms from you or this agent. you don’t even look up until the two men are right at your desk, so you miss the judgemental look that the stranger gives to mark’s unsavory comments about you. the idiot obviously misses the look too, because he’s smiling down at you all smug and patronizing when you give him your attention.

“this is agent giles from the fbi. the federal bureau of investigation,” he begins, cocking his head in a way that makes him look like he’s got a knot in his neck, rather than intelligent and important as you figure he intends. you just nod as the agent flashes his badge, resisting the urge to examine the tall man like one of your exhibit pieces. “well, he’s looking for a certain type of knife–” mark says slowly, like you don’t understand what he’s implying. you, on the other hand, couldn’t care less about him as you look the agent up and down, trying to look casual. you’re usually far more into ancient weaponry than men, but he is straight up gorgeous, you conclude. 

“–so, you should help him look for it. it’s very important, so don’t make us look like fools by saying something weird.” you grimace internally, but don’t show much of a reaction because all you can really think about is how much of an idiot he is. and how agent giles is too pretty to be an employee of the federal government. that part is far more important than mark’s rudeness, as you’re fully aware that he has nothing of value to offer, while you absolutely do.

“i’m sure y/n will be very helpful,” says agent giles firmly, and for a moment it surprises you that he knows your name before you realize mark must have given it earlier, “thanks for the sandwich recommendation mr.” he clears his throat because he’s clearly forgotten mark’s last name, “linser.” you stifle a laugh at both the insult of this agent remembering your name, but not mark’s, and the image of mark recommending an fbi agent his favorite sandwich from the museum café.

“lessinger,” he corrects with a stupid, haughty smile that suggests he has no idea that the agent thinks he’s a dumbass and couldn’t care less about him. he doesn’t even get the memo that he’s supposed to leave until agent giles clears his throat again and gives him a pointed look. “well, if y/n can’t get you what you need, i’m sure i can figure it out, so just let me know if you need anything else,” he lands a final insult before scurrying away to his own desk.

“it’s very bad,” you say with a matter of fact tone and shake of your head, once he’s finally out of ear shot. 

the agent raises his eyebrows in question, like he’s not one hundred percent sure what you’re referring to. “him?” he scoffs, “yeah, he’s a total asshole.” agent gile’s tone is much lighter and pleasant when he’s talking just to you, though he certainly means what he’s just said.

“oh, well, no. i mean, yes, he is a complete asshole, but i meant to say that– um, well, the sandwich. it’s very bad,” you repeat the sentiment in earnest after realizing you started speaking almost completely out of context. now you feel the need to explain, “he always gets the same sandwich, and it’s not a good one. if you’re hungry you should get the superfood salad. very healthy, and really good– or, i mean, if you wanted a sandwich, the blt is quite good, especially if you add avocado,” you trail off and realize you’re completely off topic, “but, uh– that’s not what you’re here for, obviously. i’m sorry, i don’t mean to waste your time, agent. uh, how can i help you?”

“no, no, that’s okay,” he says, his pretty hazel eyes full of sincerity, “i am in fact hungry, but i’d never take his recommendation, so i’m glad to have yours. i love salad,” he smiles.

“oh, thanks,” you relax, before wondering if that’s a normal response. but, instead of trying to correct yourself like you normally might, you stay silent to avoid going off topic again and preventing him from getting to the point.

“i’m looking for a certain type of dagger,” he begins, and you realize it’s taking quite a bit of effort to keep looking up at him from your seated position. he’s so tall. “i saw your museum has a weapons collection and was wondering–,” without thinking, you stand to alleviate the pressure on your neck. he pauses in his speech, but is quick to realize you’re simply just standing and that he’s free to keep talking, “–if you’d be able to help me find out if you have any. i hear you’re the weapons expert?”

“yep, that’s me!” you say, unable to completely tamp down your excitement about the topic. only then do you realize that your timing to stand up was slightly odd, but you forge on for the sake of daggers. your favorite subset of weapons. “um, what sort of dagger are you looking for?”

“a scottish dirk?” he answers like he’s asking a question, as if he’s not sure how odd it is to ask that. it is sort of odd, only because you can’t understand exactly what the fbi’s interest is in scottish daggers, but you couldn’t care less. 

your eyes light up and you grin, “we have plenty. actually, it’s quite a collection for a small museum like ours. uhh, let me show you! we have one on display, but personally, i think the ones in storage are the ones you’ll want to see,” you brush past him and head out into the hallway towards storage. 

he follows behind as you continue talking, “i mean, of course the one on display is incredible, it’s just that the best one doesn’t quite fit into the right time frame for this particular exhibit,” you explain, though you think a moment after that he surely couldn’t care less about those details. then, your curiosity gets the best of you, “so, am i allowed to ask why the fbi is looking for scottish dirks? i just didn’t think they’d be something the u.s. government would be concerned about for any reason. oh, well– not that it can’t be! you can certainly investigate anything you want, obviously,” you stop yourself there before you can say anything else borderline embarrassing.

“well, it may be connected to some odd deaths we’re investigating here. we’re just following every possibility.” his answer is completely cryptic and absolutely no help in calming your curiosities. you can’t think of any possible way that sixteenth century scottish daggers could be connected to unexplained deaths.

“you mean the… body in the lake?” you question aloud when the news article you read last week pops into your mind. the word “body” is used lightly; they only found the woman’s liver floating on the surface. you swipe your key card to open the door to storage and lead him inside, then you register that he said “deaths,” plural. “there was more than one?”

“yeah, over the course of the past … few years. the one from last week is just the most recent, second to the one we found this morning.” you’re not sure why he hesitates over the word “few,” but you figure he’s got all sorts of reasons to act secretive. 

“o-oh,” you stammer out, as everything suddenly turns so morbid, “i didn’t know that,” you reply as you stop without thinking at the right storage container. from the desk behind you, you grab a pair of gloves and ask him to put them on as well before you carefully extract the three long knives from their shelf. “so, what? you think someone’s using a scottish dirk to cut people up and throw their livers in the lake? odd considering the dirk is a thrusting blade. wouldn’t be very effective for such a task. well, uh, not that i’d really know. well, i do because i– but not like that! obviously, i’ve never used a scottish dirk to– nevermind.” you let out a little breath that’s half laugh half sigh and force yourself to focus on unwrapping the blades in front of you, each around at least a foot long.

you completely miss the endeared look that the agent gives you. sam only came in to see if the museum had the dagger and figure out how to steal it after hours to complete this case, but you’ve completely occupied his attention. he wants to hear you talk, loves the way you got excited when he asked about the dirk, thinks it’s sweet the way words tumble out of your mouth and your eyebrows change when you realize it was an awkward way to say things. and as a plus, your knowledge of the blade and its history could very likely be helpful.

“we’re not sure exactly how the dirk fits in, but that’s helpful to know,” he says kindly, peering down at the daggers. they’re beautiful and well-crafted, one with a particularly intricately carved handle. “that douche back there,” he begins, and you laugh a little at his unprofessional language, “he said you were interested in “fairy tales” related to weapons. i assume he meant folklore and mythologies? is there anything you can tell me about the folklore behind these?”

you almost cringe, thinking agent giles must find you silly until he proves just the opposite.

“yes, definitely! mark—the douchebag—loves to make fun of me for it, but it’s an important part of the job,” you explain, “it’s just, you might have to interrupt me, i get kind of excited about this kind of thing and, uh, i might start rambling,” you warn with a sheepish smile.

“any information helps,” he reassures. with that, you can’t help yourself, silently apologizing for the pure shitload of nerdy information he’s about to have dumped on him.

“well, if you insist. don’t say i didn’t warn you, but i’ll do my best to stick to the highlights,” you glance at him fleetingly and send him a smile you hope isn’t too awkward. you can’t help but notice he sends back a similar expression. so worried about your own behavior, you hadn’t realized that he’s also sort of awkward. it’s sweet and it makes you feel a bit more relaxed as you turn your attention back to the topic at hand. 

“the dirk, biodag in scottish gaelic, is a particularly important part of traditional scottish highlander culture. it was very common for warrior cultures to swear their most important oaths on their swords, but for the highlanders, it was done with their dirk. these oaths were binding with what was called the force of a gaes, which involved severe supernatural consequences were the oath to be broken. the iron of the dirk was considered to be holy, which stems from the folk superstitions that iron can protect against mythological creatures. these two,” you point to the simpler of the three knives, “are 17th century dirks, crafted with soligen steel, as there was a sort of magic ascribed to the forging of germanic steel that became popular in later centuries. 

“but, this one is a very early version of the dirk from the early 16th century, and made frompure iron,” you smile as you move on to talk about the third dirk, the one sam had noticed to be particularly ornate, “and therefore more aligned with traditional scottish folklore, as iron is considered to be stronger than any sort of alloy, like steel, against supernatural forces. this one’s definitely my favorite, just don’t tell the others,” you finish off with satisfaction, and even an affection that sam secretly finds adorable.

“it is a beautiful blade,” he agrees, in a way that makes you think he genuinely appreciates its value. “now, is there any sort of supernatural creature that the dirk specifically is used to kill?” sam knows the answer he’s looking for, but he’s always eager to confirm any sort of lore that he’s not intimately familiar with, so he asks despite the weirdness of it all.

this question is certainly very odd to you, and you can’t understand why he’d need to know, but you answer anyway. “well, it can depend on who you ask or what records you look at. in many cases, any old thing made of iron, or silver, depending, would do, especially because most folklore dates back to before the development of the highland dirk. but, there are definitely accounts of supernatural creatures being killed or warded off using a dirk, especially one used for a blood oath that was never broken. some believe the strength of an oath fulfilled made the weapon stronger and able to kill creatures otherwise thought unkillable.”

he takes in all of this information with such a serious and straight face that you really begin to question how this could all be about unsolved murders. he seems to think the folklore is going to help him solve real life mysteries, or maybe he’s just secretly interested in this sort of thing and using the opportunity to learn about it.

“and do you know anything in particular about a creature called the each-uisge?”

“each-uisge?” you repeat, unable to stop yourself from laughing a little in surprise. now you’re perfectly sure this federal government investigator is just a secret nerd with an interest in niche folklore. even his pronunciation is decent, though he neglected the back-of-the-throat sound of the “ch.” 

“well– i mean, yes, there are accounts of each-uisge being warded away by both silver bullets and an iron dirk,” you indulge, “i know less about the each-uisge themselves than dirks, but i’ve never read any account of one being killed. though, i do suppose an oath-strengthened dirk might be just the thing to do it.”

he nods intently. “listen, i’m sure this is a long shot,” agent giles begins, gesturing haphazardly with his gloved hands, and you wonder what sort of strange thing he could ask this time, “but is there a way of knowing if this one,” he points to the pure iron dirk, “might have been used to fullfill an oath?”

at that you can’t help but snort out a laugh. “what, are you trying to hunt down a each-uisge?” you tease. “you know that they’re only located in scotland, right? … i mean, if they were real, obviously.” by the end, your tone is no longer playful as your mind returns to the news of missing, presumed dead people, with nothing left but their livers found in the nearby lake. then you think about the history of the town, once heavy with scottish imigrants when it was founded in the early eighteenth century. and finally, all in just a second or two, you fully recall the story of the each-uisge, a vicious, shape-shifting horse that drowns its victims at the bottom of the nearest lake and eats their whole body except the liver, which floats to the surface. a chill runs up your spine before you tamp down the ridiculous suspicions that fill your mind.

“right, obviously,” agent giles laughs too, but it’s sort of stiff, like he wasn’t really joking when he asked. you’re certainly not laughing anymore. “as for the dirk?”

you raise your eyebrows, “hm?” is all you can manage as your mind goes sort of blank. there’s absolutely no way that what you’re thinking about could actually be true, so you brush it off and try to listen to the agent—if that’s really who he is.

“can you tell?” he asks again.

“uh– tell what? oh– oh! if it was used to swear an oath?” you prompt. he nods. “well, i mean, ha. not really, not for sure. we have tested, and there are traces of blood on the blade,” you gesture towards it vaguely, “but, um, that could be from anywhere, not just an oath, you know? lots of fighting…and stuff, uh, those days,” your voice trails off as you laugh and nod a little awkwardly, starting to feel more and more confused about this agent giles, no matter how pretty his soft-looking brown hair is. you tell yourself he’s just curious, but he just looks oh so serious, despite the fact that he’s trying to seem casual and normal about this unconventional conversation.

“hm,” is the only little sound he makes in response, like he’s almost disappointed and considering something weighty you don’t know about because of your unsure answer.

and because you hate to see that little frown on his face, you keep talking, “but, it’s more than likely that this blade was owned by a high ranking clansman, possibly even the chief, as indicated by the ornate nature of the handle and overall high quality. oaths were, in retrospect, decently common to make, even more so for high ranking clansmen.

“which means it is very likely that at least one, maybe many oaths have been sworn using this blade. of course, there’s no telling whether each oath was fulfilled, but considering the cultural importance of loyalty and honor and the roles of oaths in such, it wouldn’t be far fetched to consider this dirk as the kind strong enough to kill a each-uisge. if, you know, you wanted to know a random, cool, and totally niche fun fact about one of my favorite weapons in this museum’s storage room,” in the last sentence, you speak in a clunky, awkward sort of way as you run out of interesting tidbits to info-dump and your mind instead wanders back to the undeniably peculiar circumstances surrounding this conversation. the laugh you let out at the end is quiet, and far more nervous than humored.

the smile he gives you then is sympathetic, like he knows this is all weird and maybe a little alarming if you’re willing to question your non-belief in the supernatural. you’re no longer sure at all that he’s an fbi agent, but strangely enough, you don’t find yourself feeling distrustful of him. your gut tells you that he’s good, and you decide to trust it.

“all of this was a big help,” he says, the sincerity in his voice almost tangible, “thank you.” that makes you feel good, because it seems to you like he’s just trying to help people. with what, you’re not sure, and then you sort of wish that he’d made some sort of joke about how this last part of the conversation wasn’t actually helpful, just interesting. interesting and completely irrelevant to the livers on the lake. 

you swallow hard, “of course. glad i could be of help to you, agent.”

“sam,” he corrects. “just sam is alright.”

“oh. right. just sam,” you nod and wonder if the feeling in your chest could be your heart fluttering. your eyes flicker from his face to his broad shoulders, to his pretty, big hands and the way his right middle finger taps against the side of his thigh. then, worried you’re staring, your gaze flits down to your own hands, resting on the table, then to the daggers you know so well. yet, you look at them different this time. you’ve certainly wondered about the oaths that may have been sworn by their blades and their connections to traditional superstitions. but now you look at them and wonder if it’s real. if one of these blades had been used to ward off a real-life myth in the past, or been magically strengthened by blood and kept promises. sam—you think sam fits him so much better than agent giles—has shifted your perspective of the things you’ve been studying and learning about and loving for years and years of your life.

it’s true that you’ve always been one to daydream, to wonder; that’s where your fascination with folklore and fairy tales comes from. always, you’ve looked for rumored mythological weapons in the real world and marveled at the less historic possibilities of the things you study. and you think that if it were anyone else, or if he talked to or looked at you in a different way, you wouldn’t be questioning your reality like this, but you are. maybe you’re predisposed to believing, or just too curious for your own good, but you know at that moment that you won’t be able to let this go.

sam clears his throat to break the awkward silence, and he thinks he can see the gears in your head turning, the way they have been since he asked about the each-uisge. he hopes desperatly you won’t ask him if he thinks this is all real, all because he doesn’t think he could lie to you anymore. there’s something about your authenticity, your intelligence and innate curiosity, and the goodness that you so clearly carry with you that simultaneously makes him want to tell you everything and protect you from the truth. the latter option is always his go-to, rightfully so, but he can’t explain to himself the way that he purely just wants to share with you, bring you closer to him through a shared understanding of the world. sam thinks he must be crazy, because he just met you and thinks it would be entirely possible to fall right in love with you if he got the chance to get to know you.

then he realizes that he’s the one staring. “right, well… i should get going. you know. i’ve got another lead i need to follow up on,” he forces the words out like he doesn’t want to go, and it’s true. he doesn’t, but if he spends more time with you, he’ll have to keep lying, and he doesn’t want to do that. more importantly, he doesn’t want to expose you to anything more that could put you in danger.

“right. right, of course,” you nod, and you’re practically breaking his heart because you fail to hide the disappointment on your face for a split second. he hadn’t realized he was looking at you that carefully to catch the look, but he doesn’t regret it. he’s discovered that he likes looking at you enough to not care much about that sort of thing. “would you like me to show you out, or do you remember the way?”

“i’m alright,” sam answers on instinct before his heart breaks doubly because your eyes look sad again for a moment, “but let me walk you back to your office. or, no, let me buy you that superfood salad for taking up your time,” he amends quickly.

“i already ate lunch, but– shit,” you interrupt yourself, cursing when you realize he was flirting. then you get flustered, “no, i mean– uh, well– okay! er, no, that’s okay, i mean,” because there’s no taking back the fact that you already said you ate lunch already. you take a breath to steady yourself, “but you can definitely walk me back to my office, let me just put these away, it’ll be quick–,” your hands rush to wrap up the daggers before you remember their fragility, “oh– sorry! thank you for the offer, though! that would’ve been completely unnecessary, i’m just glad i could help. not that i wouldn’t– uh,” you gulp anxiously, “not that i wouldn’t eat lunch with you, of course– well, if that’s what you were implying which maybe it wasn’t, which, in that case–”

sam who cuts you off, “it’s alright,” he reassures before you can keep rambling, “that is what i’m implying, but…” he quiets for a split second, only because he’s a littly shy, “it’s okay. maybe, yknow, when the case is over, we can go for lunch, if that’s alright with you?”

you inhale sharply, nodding silently before remembering you should answer aloud too. when you do, your voice is a little breathless, “yeah, yeah, that sounds good.” then, you’re fighting back a grin.

“great,” he doesn’t hide his own smile as he dips his hand into a jacket pocket and hands you his card. “call me tomorrow, we can set up a time.” you accept the card with a shy smile, and one beat, two beats of silence pass before the both of you realize you’re staring at the other.

in sync, you snap out of it, gazes jerking elsewhere and hands flying anywhere to get busy. you turn to the blades on the table and he focuses on fixing up the black jacket of his suit. you try to ignore him as you put the artifacts away, expecting for him to have said goodbye and left by the time you turn back to him. when you look at him in confusion, the corner of his mouth quirks up when he realizes you’ve forgotten that you said he could walk you back to your office.

he vaguely motions towards the door, “shall we? i’ll walk you to your office, then i’m good to find my way out.”

“oh! right, of course!” you nod, “yeah.” with your lips pursed in an awkward smile, you turn to the door and walk towards the exit without looking to see if he follows. but you don’t have to, because a half-second later, he’s right by your side, which you can attribute his long strides to. you like the way he lingers close to you, closer than he did when you first walked in together, even if it makes you feel flustered so that your hands mess with the hem of your shirt.

you stop at the office door, turning to him and expecting your goodbye to happen surrounded by the empty, white walls of the hallway.

but, he points to the door with his chin. “i’ll walk you in,” he explains, “show that asshole, mark, that you’re friendly with an fbi agent.”

“oh,” you sigh out through a smile, “you don’t have to do that, yknow. i know he’s an idiot.”

he laughs at that. “yeah, he absolutely is,” he agrees readily, “but, i still wanna. i think of it as part of my job to scare off assholes.” especially from pretty people like you, he wants to say. he’s just too shy for that, thinks it would be too soon to say it.

“well then, be my guest,” you smile as you open the door and let him follow close behind you.

“thank you for all of your help,” sam says, repeating what he said before, louder than he has to so that mark, a few desks away from yours, can hear it all, “you really helped move our investigation along. i think we’ll be able to wrap it up soon, thanks to you.” you’re sure that he’s over-exaggerating, but you certainly aren’t going to stop him from proving a point to mark.

“it was the least i could do,” you play along, trying to hide your grin from your coworkers, because you can feel all their eyes on you. when you sit, sam looks down at you with nothing short of affection, just for a moment before your eyes settle back on his pretty face.

“have a nice rest of your day,” he smiles before turning away. then he reaches the door, not too far away, he turns back around and speaks for everyone to hear, “don’t forget to call me, yeah?” before disappearing and leaving you a flustered, grinning mess. you can’t help but steal a look at mark and feel satisfaction run through your veins at his utterly shocked expression. 

he looks to have gone through the five stages of grief in a matter of seconds, and it’s frankly hilarious. he can’t seem to possibly consider the fact that you absolutely just pulled a (not?) fbi agent, not to mention one who’s that tall and just plain attractive. you can’t wait to catch whatever comical expression he wears when he sees you greeted by sam in the museum foyer during your lunch break for a date (because surely he’ll be sitting in the café watching people walk in and out as he’s chewing on his nasty sandwich).

part two : now you know

[hapalopus]

"Is gif pronounced with a soft G or hard G?" Actually it's pronounced with a Danish soft G, which sounds like an English Y consonant. Enjoy your yif.

[vivwritesfics]

How about a Lando story in the NNTA universe?

Okay idk if this means we just learn about lando or like a proper fic, but I need fluff rn so I've gone with proper fic - bc Y/N is used ik NNTA, reader in this one is gonna just be she/her and landos sister is never mentioned by name 🤙🤙

Series Masterlist

She wasn't meant to be there, that much was clear. As Lando sat in the dark corners of his club, sipping his drink, he could tell.

The man she arrived with was paying her no mind as he oogled the dancing girls. But she stood there uncomfortable, arms folded in front of her chest. Lando really felt sorry for her, and he didn't often feel anything.

He placed his drink on his table and strode over, an aura of calm surrounding him. She didn't notice him at first, not until he laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Can I help you, Darling?" He asked, not quite pronouncing the 'g'.

She turned around to stare at the handsome man behind her. It was incredibly difficult to look away once she saw him - his blue eyes entrancing her.

"Oh, no," she said suddenly, somewhat bashful. "I'm just waiting to be taken home."

"Come with me to the back office and I'll call you a cab."

That sounded suspicious enough, but she had no other choice. Her date clearly wasn't going to take her anywhere. Plus, if this guy goes for her, she could always kick him and run.

But he did just as he said he would and called her a cab. Plus, he kept her company while he waited. He did most of the chatting, thank god, but soon she realised that he just really needed someone to talk to.

Turns out his sister was place into an arranged marriage, one he couldn't stop. "Do you know the guy?" She asked him, trying to at least offer him a bit of comfort.

Lando let out a dry laugh. Turns out he did know the guy, and their families hated each other.

Eventually her cab turned up and Lando walked her out of the club, to the curb outside. "If you ever find yourself in need of company late at night, this door is always open," he said as he pointed his thumb back towards the club.

"Will you be there?" She asked as she climbed into the cab.

Lando pulled a card out of her pocket and handed it to her. "Call this number first and I definitely will be."

If ya'll want this to be a whole thing, let me know and I'll work on it ;)

Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @multi-universe21 @formulas-bitch @gills-lounge @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @carlossainzwho @f1lov3r @samaib11 @charli123456789 @queenofmanydreams @ironmaiden1313 @vellicora @glitterf1 @80sloverry @lightdragonrayne @moonayu @bellsalabanccini @hiireadstuff @handsupforamiracle @cmleitora @jenniferrvsesi @barcelonaloverf1life @sbella13 @nicolettecallednikki @darleneslane @thehufflepuffavenger1 @champagneproblems17 @aespie @yukheizcigarettes @rewmuslupin @hollie911 @ashy-kit @ririgy @stqrgir1 @zaynzierulez @minkyungseokie @rafaaoli @carolinesainz @ashies-ln4op81aa22 @measimp @mizelophsun11 @eviethetheatrefreak @andydrysdalerogers @chonkybonky @shobaes @celesteblack08 @watermelonworries @gracielukey @cassie0sstuff @goldenharrysworld @venusesworld @sparklyperfectionstranger @evans-dejong @graciewrote @formulaal

[justtwotired]



The girl with the silent smile

Summary: she doesn't talk, she doesn't laugh, she listens and nods. But mostly, mostly she smiles, it's what Regulus likes about her, her smile, she never told him her name, so he just called her, the girl with the silent smile. He talked to her, she listened, when he couldn't talk, she waited, she waited without complaining.

Regulus Black x reader

Idea: so, I had this idea because I work in a coffee shop and I have a regular client who always calls me "the girl with the silent laugh" I changed it to smile, as I thought it was a wonderful title and then decided to make this story of it.

She/her pronounce

Warnings: mentions of death and murder, mention of cutting of a body part.

Wattpad

Regulus sighed as he was finally done with his classes for the day. As he wondered what he could do, he remembered the girl he met not long ago.

She hadn't spoke to him yet, but she listened and gave him a soft smile as he spoke. She was always at the same place, the seventh floor at the big window.

No one ever came there. People said it to be haunted, which Regulus thought was ridiculous because the entire school was haunted with ghosts, who -mostly- where kind and polite.

Though, people said the place was haunted in a bad way, two boys had almost died many years ago after breaking the glass, they said the thing attacking them was invisible. Ten years later a group of students dared to come there but as nothing happened, they painted on the wall and three escaped but one was badly injured and had to go to St. Mungos.

But it's where he had found her, over and over again, whenever he would come, she would be there, smiling at his arrival.

And just like every other time, she looked up at the sound of his food steps. He smiled at her and she gave him one back. "Good afternoon." He greeted, she gave a small nod in return.

"It surprised me that you always manage to be here whenever I am. I never see you anywhere else, what house are you in anyway?" He asked, yet she didn't answer, of course.

"Right, still no talking, shall I just talk then?" He asked and she nodded. He started telling stories, ignoring the cold he felt, as he started to get used to it, assuming it was because of winter and sitting near a window.

He told her about his day, about professor Binns being annoying as ever and about Barty jumping out of the window with charms 'to test if Wingardium Leviosa could make him fly' he had later told Regulus and Evan.

She had the brightest smile when Regulus told her this and she made a small noice, it's sounded like a giggle. She quickly stopped and he gave her an amused look.

She looked down a bit embarrassed and he chuckled slightly. "No need to be embarrassed, it was rather cute." He said and her cheeks flushed red.

He grinned and continued the story. She paid close attention and he suddenly noticed her eyes drifted to something behind him.

"Mister Black, Miss L/n." Nearly headless Nick greeted, she gave him a polite nod and Regulus flashed him a quick smile.

"L/n? Is that your last name?" He asked and she nodded. "Well it gives me at least one clue." He sighed and nearly headless Nick chuckled.

"I see you befriended dear Y/n here, no one ever talks to her, I think she likes you." He said. "You know her?" Regulus asked.

"Oh yes, she's been here for centuries." Nick nodded. "Centuries?" Regulus frowned and then looked at Y/n. "She's dead?" He realised and Nick nodded while the girl just looked sad.

"Yes, poor thing was murdered, it was believed she was killed by her own brothers after she had refused their needs. They cut out her tongue before they did it." Nick shook his head in sadness and disgust.

"But- but you look so... Alive." Regulus said, not realising it might be a bit offending. The girl just shrugged and suddenly turned transparent. "I didn't know ghosts could do that." Regulus pointed out.

"Most can't, no, but few are able to, her being one of them." Nick told him.

Regulus didn't think anything different of the girl and continued to visit her over the years he spent at school. He had talked about his home life, and when he got the dark mark, he showed her and she had comforted him the best she could as he sobbed.

Sometimes, she left her place on the seventh floor to visit him wherever he might be at that moment.

On his last day he had also come. "I came to say goodbye." He told her and her smile dropped. "I promise to visit you, I'll come back the moment the dark Lord is defeated." He whispered softly.

She nodded and gave him a smile, a last smile. It was not happy, as it was most of the times, this time it was sad, though still hopeful as he had promised to come back to her.

Regulus thought back to this interaction as he stood at the Cliffs Of Moher. He hadn't gone back, he had promised he would come back.

He took a deep breath in and stepped inside, Kreacher close by him. He would make it out alive, he would visit her.

She waited for him, she supposed it would take a while, but months turned into years and years turned into decades.

Sir Nickolas had told her to stop waiting. "He died, Y/n dear. It's all over the daily prophet and big news, even around the school." He explained, yet, she believed Regulus would come back, because he had promised he would, and Regulus, he never broke his promises.

She lost track of how long it had been as she sat at the window, looking outside and seeing the students make their way across the ground. Pushing each other and laughing. Hurrying to classes and clutching books to their chests.

Some chased their pets that had run away, some followed each other around, others preferred to keep to themselves, always keeping themselves small and their head low.

Yet, this was not what Y/n was looking for. No she was looking for the black haired Slytherin, though he'd probably be older then she remembered. She never lost hope that he'd return, she always believed he'd come back, just like he had told her he would.

She was still waiting, her hopes getting higher and higher as weird things happened at Hogwarts, she heard whispers of Voldermort and a boy named Harry Potter.

Potter... she had heard that name before. Regulus had mentioned it when he talked about his brother, about how much he missed his brother and how jealous he was of that Potter boy.

Soon, the story was that Voldemort had returned. Y/n noticed that suddenly, there where less students on the grounds. And which students there where, most of them weren't so happy as they once where, she never saw someone travel alone anymore, they where always together, and pets, they where never on the run anymore as the kids kept a closer eye on them.

Students who where normally happy and giddy, where now sad and worn out. Some students disappeared. Only a day ago she had seen two girls sobbing as they walked past.

'That's weird' she had thought to herself. 'Where is their other friend? They where always with the three of them...'

It was late as Y/n watched the grounds, a few birds had landed. Exploring the large grass field.

Suddenly she heard sobbing and she turned to the source of the sound and saw a boy, he was a bit older then when Regulus had just found her, he had blonde hair and grey eyes -which where full of tears- he frowned a bit at her and then narrowed his eyes.

"Who are you?" His voice was demanding. It reminded her of the time Regulus found her sitting alone. "And who are you supposed to be?" He had questioned in a sceptical tone of voice.

She gestured the boy to sit down, supposing inviting him to sit with her at the window was the best option, to watch the students- or well, birds at the moment- and to talk to her.

He introduced himself as Draco Malfoy,

She smiled at him.

[clarkeyhill]

☹️Thinking of you| George Clarke (sad) TW mentions of mental illness, su!c!de, therapy

[ You and George were best friends, had been since being children, although you knew eachother inside and out, there was always things George didn't know about you, how sad you were and how unable to cope with your emotions had you feeling, until one Tuesday morning when he stumbled upon a letter you left]

M o n d a y: 9am.

You wandered around your flat, a feeling of melancholy rose over you as your mental health had taken a dip recently, being unable to enjoy the things you normally would. Your phone buzzes, it's a text from George.

G:"Hey, we're having a games night at the flat if you're not busy, the lads asked if you wanted to join? x"

Y/n: "hey, what time? I'm a bit down so I could use a pick me up x"

G: "4pm, but I can come and see you beforehand? We can go shopping or grab a bite if you wanna escape your mind for a little while? x"

Y/n "I would love that geo, is 12pm okay? I wouldn't mind a stroll to some shops, only if you're not busy? x"

G: "my days free, even if it wasn't I'd make time, see you at yours for 12 x"

Y/n "🤍"

-

And with that your mood slowly lifted, although you knew after you go home tonight it would just plummet again, you suffered a while with low moods and just can't seem to escape the feeling of the world being better without you. A lingering feeling of annoyance to those around you and being a burden. You're in therapy 3 days a week to try and conquer your mind, nothing seems to help. You decide to try a make yourself feel better by looking better, you throw on some flare ripped jeans with an oversized hoodie over the top, your hair tried back into a claw clip as you apply minimal makeup, just enough to cover the black circles around your face.

The door knocks as you open it to reveal a smiley George who immediately embraces you into a hug, making you stumble from the force. "Nearly had me on my arse then geo, you that excited to see me?" You chuckle for the first time in weeks, George always seems to make you more happier every time you see him.

"Why wouldn't I be excited to see my bestie?" He says pulling away and ruffling your hair "where we off first?" He asks looking at you with content "I was thinking we could grab a bite first and then go explore? I don't have many places in my specifically" you say with a smile "okay, sounds good, I have one shop i definitely want to go to" he says with a mischievous smile "oh yeah where's that?" You ask "it's a surprise, now come on!" He says holding out his hand.

You both make your way to a quiet coffee shop on the main stretch of London and order a coffee, you know George wants to talk about how you're feeling. As he nurses his cup in anxiousness, "so, what's been going on lately? Why the need of a pick me up" he says taking a sip of his latte, you sigh as you know as a part of your therapy you must speak to people "I just feel so, unimportant to the world at the minute geo, my life seems very, I don't know, pointless I guess" you say unable to look at him, his face whitens as your words "y/n, you know deep down that's not true, you're important to a lot of people and your life is just starting to work out" he says with a reassuring tone "I know, but I just feel, stuck. Like if I wasn't here it wouldn't be much of a difference to the universe and it sort of settles me, I know it's not what you want to hear" you say with a sad expression, George's face turns even whiter "I need you here, me and the boys need you here, we all love you, has there been thoughts crossing your mind that I should know about?" You hesitate as his words, unable to pronounce them to him without your heart shattering, you mumble "there has been, but I'm trying to work through it" George's eyes become glassy, his palms sweaty as he hovers his hand over yours. "I need you to stay y/n, please don't leave, talk to me for gods sake, I would literally move heaven and earth for you if it means I can ease your pain" he says a tears dropping for his sad eyes, your eyes become raw "I know geo, I'm just tired of suffering right now and it just seems the only way-" George interrupts you "no!" His voice now cracking as he speaks sternly your eyes widen "George please don't make this a big deal" you say lowering your head "a big deal?! You're telling me you feel like the world would be better without you and you want me to act calm? You're my best friend! And I care!" Unable to match his gaze your head hangs in guilt, trying to fathom how to respond to your pleading best friend in hopes he would help you rethink your feelings towards yourself. "I'm sorry" you say, George sighs "you don't need to be sorry, I just want to help" he says looking at you with doe eyes "let me try and help" he advises.

You finish your coffees after a heated conversation, you feel strange and awkward around him, you've never felt like this before "I'm going to take you to the shop I wanted to, okay?" He says wrapping an arm around your shoulder "okay" you say softly, you both walk towards a familiar shop you've seen before on passing. It was a jellycat store, something you've always dreamed of visiting ever since you moved to London. Your face lights up in joy "the jellycat store!" You say looking at him, he smiles down at you "pick as many as you want" he says looking at you like you were a kid in a candy store. You hover round the store hoping to find the one you wanted, it was a small but sentimental plush for you, it was the pickle jelly cat, you see it poking out of the shelf as you hurry over to it "this one!" You say holding it up to show George "a pickle?" He says chuckling "yes! isn't he cute?" You say smiling, "yeah he is a little cute I must admit" George laughs "I want this one please" you ask "no more?" George says furrowing his brows "nope, just this little pickle" you say toodling over to the counter, George pays for the plush as they place it into the bag.

"You happy?" He says looking at you "yeah! Thanks geo" you say hugging him tightly, you held the hug for longer than normal, a feeling of warmth wraps your body as if you've never been hugged before, George doesn't let go until you do. "You're welcome" he smiles. You both walk round London for a little while, talking and catching up. George checks his watch "it's 3pm we should head back to the flat, the boys will be coming round soon" he says, you look at him with a pouting lip, enjoying the hustle and bustle of London. "Okay" you say shuffling along the pavement.

You arrive at the flat and George makes you a drink, awaiting the boys to turn up from filming. "I hope today's made you feel a little bit better" he says "it has geo, Thankyou. It'll be a long way before I'm back to my normal self but I think I'll get there with you by my side" you say, but the lingering thought of leaving still sits in your mind, although you were happy in this moment. You still weren't going to be happy forever, a sudden wave of guilt washes over you not wanting to hurt George with your actions or words. The boys walk in as they all embrace you for a hug "we're glad you could come" Chris says smiling at you "yeah me too!" You say back to him, you start off by playing monopoly, making your way through most of the games in the world you decide at 9pm to call it a night "I'm going to go home guys, I'm a little tired" George looks at you worried "you can stay here, in my bed, don't go yet!" He says, urging you to stay as he was worried about your feelings "thanks geo, but I prefer my own home comforts, bye guys" you say waving, George rises from his seat as he walks you over to the door "please don't go, I'm worried about you" he says "I'll be okay geo" you plant a kiss on his cheek "love you" you say walking away as tears form in your eyes, you felt wrong to tell him you'd be okay, you knew you wouldn't be. You clutch the jelly cat he bought you as you get into the lift.

You arrive home to your full, lifeless flat almost resembling yourself in its entirety you toss your keys on the side, not locking your door. You place the plus on your dinner table as you sit down with a notepad. Your eyes form the title reads.

"To Geo, this is everything I didn't say to you"

You start listing all the things you loved about him, the way he made you laugh, the way he lit up every room, the memories you shared, the love you had for him as you sign off the note

"Sorry I couldn't have stayed longer to watch your wings blossom more, instead mine needed to grow, I'll watch you forever and always and protect you for as long as I can, Thankyou for being my platonic soulmate in this life and hopefully the next, I love you more than I could've ever expressed in my whole time of knowing you, keep being amazing and filling those rooms with joy, I love you Geo x"

You take yourself to bed and release yourself from all your suffering, your flat still lifeless as you wallow in it. The door still left unlocked and your jellycat perched on the mantelpiece with the note beside it.

--

T u e s d a y : 11am

Your phone rings multiple times, George is calling you, multiple messages appear on your phone

G - good morning pretty x

You not awake yet?x

Y/n?

Hello?

I'm worried, call me

Please answer me

Your flat remains full, yet empty with your presence missing, George tries to call again with no answer. he begins to panic, calling the police to do a welfare check on you, they arrive busting down your door to discover you laid in bed, peaceful with no emotion. George is not far behind them as they deny him access

"Where is she!" He shouts at your door "I need to know she's okay" he bellows ones more, the police officers tell him that unfortunately you were physically here, but your presence wasn't. He falls to his knees in devastation " I knew I shouldn't have let her leave my flat last night!" He sobs, the officers comfort him as the coroner's arrive at your flat, George sees the jellycat perched on your mantle piece as he breaks past the officer to grab it, the note beside it. He clutches the paper as his tears drop to the floor. He opens the page as he starts to read the note you left, he sobs once more as he cuddles the plush he got for you less than 24hours before, it still smelled like you. The officers make George leave as they take you out of the flat, his body turns to jelly as he looks away, not wanting to picture you anymore than a happy bubbly girl who he loved dearly.

He goes back to his flat, as he calls the boys to come over, he opens his door to the with puffy eyes as he bursts into tears "she's gone, she's really gone" he says clutching the plush "who?" They all ask in unison, "y/n, she's gone" they all look confused "gone where?" They all say "she-she's passed away" he says, they boys all rally round him to comfort him as they come to terms with the news together. George decides to post into his insta to signal a break from posting.

Liked by Chrismd10,arthurtv,arthurnfhill,italianbach

Georgeclarkeey: if only you knew how loved you were, I'm sorry I couldn't take away your pain, you will forever be my best friend and I will miss you forever more, I'll make sure I live my life 10x more so you live through me, my platonic soulmate in this universe and any other always, your geo x (I am taking a break for a while)

Chrismd10: ❤️‍🩹

Arthurnfhill: ❤️‍🩹

Arthurtv: ❤️‍🩹

Italianbach:❤️‍🩹

---

If anyone of you are struggling please reach out to a mental health team or helpline, there's is many out there. Don't suffer alone ❤️

(I'm sorry this is deep but I have been feeling pretty much the same and I wanted to express it into writing)

[elen-benfelen]

welsh remus guide pt.3

Third Lesson

Right then, lads. It’s alphabet time.

Often, when looking at Welsh place names, it can seem confusing and overwhelming for anyone who is unfamiliar with Welsh. Sometimes, the confusion comes from not realising that the names are in Welsh. 

Visually, we use the Latin alphabet and so it’s easy to make the assumption that the Welsh alphabet is exactly the same as the English. 

It is not, my dudes. 

To begin with, the following letters do not exist:

K, Q, V, X, Z

Secondly, these are the vowels:

A, E, I, O, U, W, Y 

(Occasionally H is also a vowel but I couldn’t tell you when or why??? I usually go off of vibes) 

Next, are the double letters. They count to us as single letters and each make a unique sound:

CH, DD, FF, NG, LL, PH, RH, TH

NG as in thiNG

PH as in PHil

FF as in Fun

RH as in RHiannon

TH as in THat

Now comes the uh, more complicated sounds. 

For those familiar with German words such as Nacht or the name Brecht, the Welsh CH is that same sound.

CH as in naCHt

DD is like a harder TH sound. It is NOT a D sound. 

LL sounds like hissing. I genuinely don’t know how else to explain this. It straight up does not exist in majority of languages but there are some out there with the same sound (sometimes shown with a different letter). 

To hear it and learn more here’s a better explanation.

This is a really fun video on the different accents but someone mentions the town Llanelli so it’s also a good example of the LL sound. 

And so in full we have:

A. B. C. CH. D. DD. E. F. FF. 

G. NG. H. I. J. L. LL. M. N. O. 

P. PH. R. RH. S. T. TH. U. W. Y. 

There’s no K because the C is always a hard C sound.

There’s no V because a single F is always a hard V sound. 

J is a modern addition to help us with new modern words we’ve loaned from English. Such as Joke becoming Jôc. 

G is always a hard guttural G sound. 

Despite misconceptions, Welsh is actually vowel heavy and we tend to stretch vowels. If a letter has a little roof on it, like “ô” or “ŵ” then it’s an extended/longer sound. 

This means, when speaking English, our vowels are more likely to be elongated. 

Similar to the “r” in Spanish, the Welsh “r” is rolled and therefore many will still roll their Rs when speaking English. 

For a reason I have yet to discover, despite H being perfectly clear and pronounced when speaking in Welsh, when we speak English, a lot of areas have a habit of dropping the H sound. 

“Here” becomes “Ere” or “Yere” 

I am guilty of this. Why do I do this? I genuinely can’t tell you. 

For the reasons above, the following words sound stupidly similar to each other:

Ear

Year

Here

Hear 

As with any language, understanding the basic sounds helps you understand the core of the accent. 

In terms of character dynamics, I would take note that the “CH” and “LL” sounds along with our supposed “lack of vowels” is usually what the language is mocked for. Usually by English folk but other folks, including non-Welsh speaking Welsh folks are perfectly guilty of this mocking. 

Fun fact: I didn’t realise W and Y weren’t vowels in the English language when I was a small child. So I really didn’t get why they thought there wasn’t any vowels in our place names. 

Another thing to note is that the Welsh language and accents are very up and down. It’s not usually flat or monotone. A lot of people also describe them as melodic. Sing-songy even.

Colourful alphabet video with BSL

Shorter alphabet video 

Note: I am not the collective consciousness of every Welsh person. My experience is not universal - especially when it comes to North Walian things. This is just meant to serve as a general guide. Hope this helps and good luck with your writing!

pt.4

[maochira]

Happy birthday to me! - uhm, us. (twin!Shidou & twin!reader)

Synopsis: You weren't willing to miss out on celebrating your birthday with your brother, only because he's in Blue Lock at the moment. And you surprising Shidou is definitely the best present you ever gave him.

Characters appearing: Shidou, Rin, Karasu, Zantetsu, Loki, Tokimitsu, Nanase (PxG, basically)

Tags: gn!twin!reader, reader looks very similar to Shidou, soft!Shidou at the end, a bit of swearing, this is during the Neo Egoist League

This is the last part of my Shidou birthday countdown event! Aka, it's his and my birthday <3

You've celebrated every single one of your birthdays together with your twin and you weren't willing to end this streak only because he's in Blue Lock at the moment.

It definitely took a lot of back and forth and tons of convincing, but you somehow managed to get the permission to visit Shidou on your birthday.

The thing is, not once has he mentioned having a twin to any of his teammates. So you can imagine everyone's surprise when you run onto the soccer field out of nowhere while the team is at practice.

"Ryu!" You call his name as you jump on him, tackling him to the ground. "Happy birthday!"

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Your brother asks in surprise, but he looks happy to see you.

"Fuck. There's two of them." Rin curses under his breath, but still loud enough for his teammates to hear.

"Hell yeah! There's two of them!" Karasu cheers.

Zantetsu adjusts his glasses and tries to sound intelligent. "Well uhm, technically they're one of each. Except for if one of them is a clone."

"Well, I don't think one of them is a clone..." Nanase adds to that and quickly afterwards he finds himself listening to a very unlogical explanation by Zantetsu why neithet you more Shidou is a clone. Even though the most obvious explanation would be that cloning isn't possible.

Rin decides to ignore what Zantetsu is talkibg about and looks over at Loki, expecting for practice to continue soon. But unfortunately for him, Loki has decided to end practice a bit earlier today so you and your brother get to celebrate.

Rin already knows he's not going to join that. Instead, while the rest of the team and you go over to one of the rooms that can be used for your celebration, he's staying on the field to continue practicing on his own.

"I didn't know Shidou has a twin." Karasu says while taking a closer look at you. "Damn, you look very similar to him."

"You never told them about me?" You say to your brother, acting as if you're offended by this. "Ryu! Everyone should know about your favourite person!"

"I never thought it was necessary to let them know!" Shidou sounds defensive, but he's joining in on the joke.

"Never thought it was necessary? Oh come on!"

Before your brother gets to talk back, Tokimitsu gets between you and Shidou to interrupt your 'argument' because he believes both of you are being serious.

"G-guys calm down- Hey uhm, (Y/N)?" He sounds as if he's unsure about pronouncing your name right. "Maybe... your brother never got the chance to tell us about you? But... you seem very nice."

Even though he misunderstood the situation, Tokimitsu's words immediately melt your heart. So you can't help but pull him into a hug.

"Ryu! Your friend here is so cute!" You giggle and hug Tokimitsu a little too tight, barely letting him breathe. Also, calling him "cute" put a bright blush on Tokimitsu's face which he's definitely going to get teased about as soon as you're gone.

The celebration itself isn't something that special. The team gathered some snacks and put on some music, but besides that there's not much going on. Well, you did get to talk to all of your brother's teammates and got to know them a little bit better, so that's something.

But you don't mind it not being a big and special party. It feels nice to just see your brother again.

Also, at some point you notice Rin joining in the room. But he just stands there and doesn't do much. Although sometimes, he looks as if he's about to approach you but never acrually does it.

At some point a bit later, you somehow find yourself talking to Loki. "I hope my brother isn't causing you too much trouble. I know how overwhelming he can get."

"Oh no, don't worry." Loki responds with a smile. "I've found my way to manage everything, somehow."

"Are you sure? I mean, he is a handful to handle."

"I heard that!" Shidou, who's standing a few meters away from you, calls out.

"I'm telling the truth, idiot!" You yell back.

And that's hos the sibling banter starts once again. Except this time Karasu joins in, just for the fun of it.

Time passes by way faster than you'd like it to. It feels like barely an hour has passed by when you realize it's almost time to leave. In no way you're leaving the small mess that was created.

While cleaning up, you end up in a little conversation with Nanase. It's not much, but he's so sweet, you pull him into a hug like you did with Tokimitsu. Those two definitely have won a little place in your heart.

Saying goodbye to your brother was a whole thirty minute process. More and more hugs, more and more goodbyes, and generally just repeating how much you'll miss each other over and over. But in the end, Shidou lets you go from his embrace - his hugs are just as strong as yours are - and you leave the room to walk down the hallway.

And just as you're about to open the door to leave, you hear someone running after you. You expected it to be your brother or maybe Karasu, but no. It's Rin. Definitely a surprise to end the day - but not one to complain about.

He looks a little embarrassed but is trying to hife that. "I haven't uh. I haven't said happy birthday to you so... Happy Birthday."

A soft smile spreads across your face. "Thank you, Rin."

And then, you turn around to open the door but stop once again when you hear someone else's footsteps running in your direction. Just this time you don't even get to turn around.

Suddenly, you feel your brother hugging you from behind, causing you to let out a little chuckle. "Oh Ryu..."

His arms around you tighten a little more as je pulls you closer. "Thank you for coming... I miss you already."

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[rosyjn]

"I'm not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention," JAKE SULLY X READER SMUTTTT (MDNI)

(Btw this was inspired by one of @carpecaelo ‘s fics I’ll put the link in the replies!)

You sit by the fire, leaning back onto the tree trunk behind you. A leaf with pieces of teylu lays in your lap. You chew your food and look down at the fire, poking it around every few minutes with a stick.

You're sitting criss cross applesauce, as the smell of the fire and the sound of Pandora fill your senses. The light glows a bright orange, illuminating the forest in the night. Its warmth comforts you. It is calm and peaceful, unlike how the day had gone.

You have this moment all to yourself. This tranquil moment to contrast with the typical Na'vi life that you live.

"Hey, Y/N!" Jake Sully's footsteps approach you from behind trees and he awkwardly adjusts his loincloth from the back. You turn your head, see him, and turn back around. His idiot grin interrupts your calmness.

You set your teylu down next to you and sigh. His big feet rush over to you and he kneels.

"I got something for you," he smirks and holds up a glowing white flower. "Tawtsngal," through his American accent, he excitedly pronounces the Na'vi name for Panopyra.

"You know what this is, Jake?" you roll your eyes and touch the flower.

"Yes, of course yawne, it is a natural aphrodisiac. A flower of love," his voice is lively and comedic. His joking tone annoys you. However, he's learning, and he's excited to show it. He's learning about his new life on Pandora and his surroundings. He's also learning how to make his wife happy, so he holds the flower closer to you, to smell.

"Stop playing," you push it away. "Who told you the name for that, Mo'at?" you ask, shaking your head.

"No, Norm did," he smiles and leaves a sloppy kiss on your cheek, only for you to hiss and slap him away.

"Jake, please," your ears fold back. His eyes widen like a puppy dog and his smile fades. You watch him through the corner of your eye. You don't WANT to be mean to him, but sometimes, having a mate is hard.

He looks down into his lap and fiddles with his hands.

"You normally call me Ma'Jake..." he mumbles.

You're irritated right now, and you're tired. But you can't do this to him. He's trying his best. You know he has good intentions.

"Ma'Jake," you sigh, tilting your head and looking at him. His eyes light up again and his idiot grin returns.

"Yeah! Okay, you're not mad at me. Thank g- Eywa, thank Eywa my girl isn't mad at me," he leans into you and buries his head into the crook of your neck, nuzzling you shoulder with closed eyes.

"Were you going to say 'thank god'?" you ask.

"Yeah, but I corrected myself because I have a new life with my beautiful mate," his hand travels to your waist and he kisses your shoulder.

"Move it," you slap his hand away. He pulls himself off of you completely and sighs.

You two sit there in silence for a second. Until you feel a soft fingertip press into your thigh. You take a deep breath to control yourself.

"Jacob Sully." your nostrils flare as his finger pulls away.

"Not my name anymore, honey," he pokes your thigh again. Your pupils contract with annoyance.

"Tsyeyk te Suli," you turn your head to him and he smiles at you.

"You're so cute when you're mad," he presses little polka dots into your legs and torso. "Mated for life, remember?" he teases. You ignore him.

""I'm not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention," his smirk grows more mischievous.

"What? What does my childish Toruk Makto want? The strong leader who led the clans to victory against the sky people is a big baby!" you scold. You finally turn to him, looking in his eyes.

"And my love makes me that way," he strokes your cheek.

"Don't be sappy," you don't bother to turn away or slap his hand. Instead, you just accept his physical affection as your ears perk up with his touch. Your harsh tone contrasts with your soft features, and your eyes that glow in the amber light of the fire.

"What happened today? Hmm? What happened that made you irritated like this? I'll listen to you. Come here, please. I'll listen," his arms cage your body and you melt like putty into his embrace. You can't resist being held by him. You can't resist his warm body in the cold nighttime breeze.

"It was... just crazy today, Ma'Jake. Eywa hates me so much, my body has been all over the place since I got mated. Mo'at told me that I should get 'with child' soon. My heat cycles are going crazy! Also, Za'ulanou is sick. I'm worried. I prayed at the spirit tree for him!" you tuck your face into Jake's chest and clench your eyes shut, overrun with emotion. He listens attentively, comforting you.

"Oh, I-" he begins, rubbing your head. "My girl, it's okay. We'll heal Za'ulanou. We'll pray and forage medicine for him. Wouldn't that be nice? To help Mo'at out a little bit?" he presses a kiss onto your hair.

"Yes," you quietly hum into his abs, feeling relieved.

"But uhm, run back that first part for me, real quick," he says. You nod.

"I think you heard it," you pull away from his chest and look in his eyes.

"You want me to help you with that? I can... give you a child," he pushes your hair out of your face and your eyes widen.

"I don't know," you look away.

"Make those pesky little heat cycles go away," he suggests.

"Even if the seed doesn't take-" you begin. Jake's eyes widen with your use of language, reminding himself he's on another planet. You notice his face and giggle.

"Ma'Jake, it is our way. If the... intercourse-" you say that word with uncertainty, hoping to make sense to Jake. He nods, assuring you that he understands.

"If the intercourse does not give me child, it would still help my cycles. The Na'vi way, I will tell you. We can make sex, and not have babies. But if we make sex and tsaheylu at the same time, I most likely will become with child," you tell him. Jake listens closely, without judging your English at all. The same way you never judge his Na'vi.

"I'm proud of you, your English is so good," he remarks, kissing your forehead.

"Are you listening or not?" you shake your head.

"Yes, keep going, beautiful girl," he rubs your back.

"Sex without tsaheylu is common among the Na'vi. It is good for the bodies. It relieves the hormones, the cycles, without having to commit to a baby," you place a hand on your stomach.

"I see what we should do," he smirks. "Lay back, mama," he slowly pushes you back, crawling on top.

"Ma'Jake, I don't want to become mama, so no bonding, only sex," you tell him sternly as you lie down.

"Of course," he unties your loincloth to see your swollen, wet pussy, aching for him.

"Mmm," you whine and squirm desperately. His erect cock pushes through his loincloth rubs up against your leg.

"Jesu- Eywa, how long have you been like this?" he leans and gets near your heat.

"Every heat," you mewl and buck your hips when he pulls his face away from your cunt.

"Every time your pussy gets wet like this, every time you get irritable because no one's balls deep in you, every single goddamn time you're horny, come straight to me. I'll drop whatever I'm doing and fuck your brains out," he drops his loincloth and his dick stands straight up, intimidating you.

"Yes, I will," your pussy aches and throbs with desire and your legs tremble.

"I'd fuck you any time. We could be in the middle of dinner, hunting, ritual, prayer, or even a goddamn battle. Just call for me. Because I will hurry to you," he gets down, positioning himself in front of your entrance.

"And when I get to you-" he teases your slit with his tip and you whimper.

You place your hands on his shoulders, looking down. He kisses your cheek as he slowly thrusts inside of you. You let out a mewl and he grunts. Your cunt stretches to take him and your toes curl.

He breathes heavily against your face and his pre cum teases your cervix. As he gradually goes into you further, your legs wrap around his waist. You throw your head back and moan, you can feel your skin getting hot.

"When I get to you, I'll bend you over a log, or lay you down on the soil, or fuck you up against the wall of a cave. Goddamn, I'd fuck your tight pussy any time. You will never have a bad cycle again, I swear," his eyes wield shut as he thrusts into you again.

The pressure in your stomach builds up. You yelp and your heat pulsates.

"I'm gonna-," you whine. You can't continue. You're too cock drunk to speak.

"Do it," Jake's strokes become turbulent and desperate. He whimpers against your face.

Your orgasms hit you guys like a bus. You cry out and grab on tight to him, while an electric feeling pulses through your body. Your cunt squeezes and clenches Jake, while a contracting feeling takes over your abdomen.

Jake groans and plops his weight onto you, his cum squirting all over your cervix and filling you up with warmth. A similar contracting feeling takes over him, while his arms tremble.

He pulls out of you, breathing heavily.

"All better?" he asks, panting and breathless.

"All better," you reply, the same way.