#language barriers

[envy-of-the-apple]

Dark!Naga!Gojo Satoru x reader x Dark!Naga!Geto Suguru

Top of the Food Chain

I've always wanted to continue my naga!mha fic but considering i dont write for deku+co anymore, i decided to move my au a couple fandoms over:D 1.8k wc

Part two

(Warnings: animal deaths, blood, obsession, dark content, slight gun threat but not rlly, polyamory, gender ambigious!reader) 

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Despite being here for nearly a week, you still don't think Satoru understood how delicate you are. 

He's overbearing, in that sense. Constantly poking and prodding and squeezing until your lungs give and you're forced to squeak. You can't blame him for not understanding. He's an animal, after all. Inhuman. Despite his skin and hair, the scales coating his tail give away just how different he is. He was probably born fighting, kicking, and screeching his way through the foliage, hunting, chewing, and biting. 

He's not like you when all you knew when you were younger was coddling and softness. You can see it in his scars, and bruises, and marks. 

Luckily, for you, Suguru had an inkling that you weren't made for sharp claws. 

It's not a fight, you can tell when they're fighting, it's more like a warning? A minor disagreement. Suguru hisses at the other naga, scrunching up his face, showing his teeth. Satoru is quick to respond, but a little more playful. Fortunately for you, the black-haired male seems to win the argument. Satoru's coils loosen around you. Air stops fighting its way to get into your lungs. 

You finally go lax in his hold. Satoru seems to enjoy that, dipping his head to bury his face into the base of his neck. The first few times he did that, you were afraid he was trying to bite off your jugular. Now, you think it's just another way he can soak up your body heat. 

Maybe you've been here for longer than a week. At this point, you couldn't really tell. Hope that you'd be found was starting to slowly fizzle away. The explosion had been massive. The ship had sunk in a matter of minutes. With a disaster that huge, you doubt anyone would still be looking for survivors. Especially on an uncharted island, where myth had turned into reality. 

 Satoru had been the one you'd woken up to. Washed ashore, barely conscious. You were half-certain he was planning on eating you with the way he held your leg, watching your muscles bend and turn. In his defense, he must have thought you were dead. Your shrill scream quickly convinced him otherwise. 

It was barely a fight. More or less, a pathetic kidnapping as he grabbed your body, slinging it over his shoulder. You've never remembered screaming and crying so loudly before, convinced you were about to be eaten. Suguru probably heard you before he saw you. 

Satoru's mate was a little less impressed with you. Back then, they didn't bother learning your tongue, speaking in hisses and snarls, unaware of your misery. Suguru's frown was glued on his face, but the naga never let you run away, always keeping a hand or a tail on you at all times. It was a rough first day; you didn't know they weren't interested in eating you until they tried to feed you. 

Things were much different back then Nowadays, they are a lot more considerate of yourself and your soft body. You think you've come to an understanding with these strange creatures. 

Suguru was the nicest out of the two. In that, you mean the least rough. Compared to his counterpart, he's a bit smaller, but that's not saying there's any real difference. If it comes down to it, you are more than certain he'd be able to kill you off as quickly as his mate. You thought he hated you, at first. Now, you think he has a hard time showing blatant affection. His touches typically come in the dead of night, when you're barely conscious. A clawed finger gently raking over your soft skin. Large hands sculpting your face. 

Satoru's eyes were the first thing you noticed about him. Glittering like blue sapphires. You had a feeling they weren't just for show. Time and time again he's proven that he can see better than Suguru could. He smiles a lot more, but you're starting to wonder if that expression translates across species. He can speak your tongue slightly better than Suguru could. It most likely has to do with his insistence on staying with you. The more time you spend with him, the more you have to say 'No' 'Don't touch there' 'Stop'. 

In the rare times you manage to escape their hold, you like watching them interact with each other. They often sunbathe for hours, lazing around hot rocks to soak in the heat. They like touching each other. Sometimes it's aggressive, like when Satoru chomps on Suguru's neck and you're suddenly much more aware of how careful he is with you. Other times it's: soft, unintentional, meaningless. Languid cuddling when you are finally able to braid Suguru's hair. 

At this point, you've surmised they won't eat you. At least, not for the moment. You don't exactly know what they think of you. Do they have the concept of pets in their worldview? Maybe that's the closest thing you can place yourself as, at least in their eyes. They must think you're helpless. To them, you have no claws, no fangs, no venom. They probably don't know you come from a species that's hunted others to extinction and currently burning down the planet. You must be the first time they've ever seen your kind, stripped away from your weapons, when you're the least dangerous. 

"You should be more scared of me, you know," you once whispered to Suguru in the dead of night.

He was dozing off, blearily keeping his eyes open to stare at your moving lips. There was a grunt behind you, and Satoru tightened his arms across your waist. Greedy for affection, even in his sleep.

"Humans are terrifying," you said, reaching out to touch, "top of the food chain."

Suguru had smiled at that. You found yourself smiling back.

"You're lucky I didn't have a gun on me. You probably don't even know what that is." It's dark humor to press two fingers into his forehead. Your way of coping maybe.

Or perhaps your actions prove that humans will always desire to be violent, no matter how perilous their fight may be.

"Bang." He leans into your touch, unafraid. Oblivious to the threat that you are.

You're guessing Satoru only let you go because of the food Suguru brought.

You're able to feel the ground again as he glides over to Suguru having just come back from a successful hunt. The carcass of the largest deer you've ever seen is slung across his back. The smell of blood already makes you nauseous. 

You think Suguru had been the most panicked when you refused to eat, clicking and cooing while he tried to force-feed you the bloody leg of a bear. Back then, your communication was even worse than it was now. You were smeared in crimson by the time he relented. Practically dripping in it. 

Now, Suguru knows you have different tastes than them. You're not a big fan of raw. The fish and the handful of berries are more than enough to sate you as you gather the items he's given in your hands. 

"Thank you," you say. You reach out, touching his face with warm fingers. He purrs into your touch. You smile. It's the least gratitude you can give him. After all, he's not asking for much. If they hadn't found you, you would have been dead long ago, or at least, significantly less weaker. It's the least you can do. 

For a moment, you delude yourself into thinking they were your pets. It'd certainly be easy too. They have little to no regard for personal boundaries, much like dogs. They're more animalistic than they are human. 

It's funny to think of these monsters as lovable pets.

"Thank you," Suguru repeats. You giggle. It's not like they actually understand you. It's simple mimicry. Like talking to a parrot. 

"Thank you!" Satoru chirps, never one to be left out. He pushes his mate out of the way, eager for your pets as well. Suguru hisses, but doesn't argue. You've learned they like to be scratched right there on the bottoms of their chins. 

Suguru's less obvious, but Satoru has no desire to pretend. He melts into you, practically slumping his weight into your weak hold. It's a little adorable actually. You give a little laugh. He seems even more pleased at that. 

They're fun to be around, but this can't last. You belong with other humans, far far away from this island. So far, you hadn't seen any boats in the horizon, but you hope one would come by soon. A plane would be even better. Close enough to give you hope. Maybe if you built a big enough fire, it'd reach someone eye. 

Hopefully, in just a few weeks, these creatures will be a very cherished memory. 

You frown when Satoru reaches over to grasp at your food, the meat specifically. You glare, moving away from his hold. He titters in clear disappointment. You hate seeing him sad but you already have so few food sources. It's best to conserve whatever you get. 

"No," you pointedly tell him, "It's mine. Mine." 

His frown deepens, and he opens his jaws to let his fangs pop out. 

"Mine," you repeat. 

He leans back, huffing. You laugh because you know his expression is more out of frustration than any actual anger. Again, animals. You pet his head in apology, before turning away. You'd have to start a tiny fire to start cooking. Raw fish is edible, but it's hardly desirable. 

A hand grabs yours, clawed, the grip is tight around your frail skin. When you look back, Satoru is staring at you. Eyes wide. Eager. 

"Mine," he says, but it's more like he's testing the word. Tasting it on his lips. 

You scoff, unamused. "That's my arm. Not yours." 

Satoru smiles. Sharp teeth. You suddenly remember he's a carnivore. 

He's slow when he draws you in, practically dragging you into his arms. You're used to his spontaneous hugs, tight and suffocating. You can't fight him off, so you typically wait until Suguru has enough of his behavior and drags him off you. 

"Mine," Satoru repeats. Alarm bells ring in your head but it's easy to brush them off. It's mimicry. They can't understand. It's like talking to a parrot. 

You feel the weight of the other naga at your back. His arms wrap around your waist, pushing you against Satoru's chest. You stiffen when Suguru's fangs lightly graze up your neck. Never quite punctures, but is terrifyingly close.

"Mine," Suguru says into your skin. 

You laugh again, but it comes out less hesitant. More airy. Amid their hold, a sudden thought comes to you.

If you weren't at the top of the food chain anymore, then who was?

#yandere #dark content #yandere jjk #non con touching #yandere gojo satoru #yandere geto suguru #dark gojo satoru #dark geto suguru #naga au #naga gojo satoru #naga geto suguru #animal death #language barriers #polygamous relationship #Top of the Food Chain

[cute-pluto]

watching old philza videos and realizing yd was upon us the entire time

#i think its really interesting how idont really grasp the scope of influence new creators have on qsmp. due to not noticing them bc of #language barriers #like uhh like cellbit turning out popular but at first i was like. who? lmao. like never seen this guy in my life #yd seems tp have been popular enough to be in multiple mc lives like huh. lookie that. #qsmp yangdding

[thegirlwhorideslikeasamurai]

YOI-meta: Viktor's apparent insensitive reaction to Yuuri's love confession & what it might mean

There are several ways to read Viktor's comment on Yuuri's love confession depending on the level of his knowledge of the Japanese language and culture at this point in the series. While his words seem insensitive and blunt at first glance, plausible explanations for the choice the creators made here align rather with Viktor's character and the concept of the show than Viktor only caring about Yuuri's appearance in one of the most significant moments of their relationship.

So let's break this down!

1. Language barriers

The press conference of the Japanese Skating Federation, where the skaters participating in the Grand Prix Series present their season theme, is broadcasted on Japanese TV for a Japanese audience. Hence, Yuuri speaks Japanese in this scene. By now, Viktor has been living in Japan for about 5-6 months, and while he possibly knows enough Japanese to get along on his own and communicate with Yuuri's family about basics like food or the weather, complex speeches are probably still beyond his abilities.

Besides Russian, Viktor speaks English and French, so we can assume he has a knack for languages. But whereas Cyrillic and Latin characters have some resemblances, Japanese has three different types of characters (hiragana, katakana, and kanji), and these differ vastly from Western scripts. Beginners spend a hell lot of time learning these in addition to vocabulary and grammar. It's not a stretch to assume that Viktor understood parts of Yuuri's speech but not enough to connect the dots. Like "here, Yuuri presents his season theme which is about love... Oh, I heard my name! He's talking about me now! ... Was that something about a gold medal and Grand Prix Final? That's my Yuuri! He's so fierce! I love this! But ugh, he really needs a new tie! That hideous thing doesn't fit his new image at all!"

2. Utter shock

That face...

Looking at this scene, Viktor is either completely shocked because he didn't see this coming or trying hard to understand Yuuri's speech. While in my personal headcanon, language barriers keep him from understanding the speech, a person who is described as a genius and already speaks three languages might be able to follow the speech after living in the country for several months (I'm not sure about this though, but some people learn at lightspeed once they start obsessing over a subject). In this case, his reaction is a coping mechanism due to overwhelm. So far, Yuuri has said a few sweet things that showed Viktor how much he matters to Yuuri, but this is a whole new dimension of expressing affection, especially coming from someone so reluctant to voice their feelings. And while Viktor undeniably has been hoping for Yuuri to love him back, seeing his love confessing his feelings live on national TV is quite something to process.

Which leads me to...

3. Viktor doesn't take Yuuri's love confession seriously

This interpretation falls into the category of "Did we watch the same anime?" and I will briefly explain why using some past instances of Viktor's reaction to Yuuri using love language:

Episode 2 "I want to eat katsudon with you!":

Episode 3 "I'm going to become a super tasty katsudon. Please watch me!":

Episode 4 "I want you to stay who you are":

We see the occasional confusion, which is attributed to the fact that Viktoir is still familiarising himself with Yuuri's unique way of expressing his feelings and desires. However, in all these scenes, Viktor is genuinely happy that he means so much to Yuuri. Although Viktor can be insensitive at times, he never mocks Yuuri, which speaks volumes about his character. Not even when Yuuri says things like "Katsudon is my eros!" It's not in his personality. So far, throughout the series, Viktor has helped Yuuri become more confident and express his feelings. As soon as he understands Yuuri's speech and has processed the meaning, he would burst with happiness because Yuuri loves him back and pride because of how confident Yuuri became. But mocking Yuuri for his necktie when he just expressed the full dimension of his feelings? Just nope. He's not JJ.

Bonus: Viktor's reactions after episode 5 (the pattern continues)

4. The necktie is a metaphor

This interpretation came up in a Twitter discussion with @maetae2288 (kudos to her for bringing this up!) and it can coexist with interpretations 1 and 2. If you tell a story that needed to be condensed to 12 short episodes, you don't waste precious air time on throwaway lines.

For this interpretation, I would like to refer to Tumbleweed's translation errors master post. It's a super long post, so I quote the relevant part:

「 初めて自分から繋ぎとめたいと思った人、それがヴィクトルです 」 [...]'For the first time in my life, there’s a person I want to hold on to. That person is Victor.’ Also, while I think this word choice is the best choice, 'hold on to’ doesn’t quite get all the connotations of 繋ぎとめたい across. Tsunagi tomeru is composed of two words, tsunagi = bind and tomeru = stop. It means tying the subject to something and stopping it from going away. Since he added 自分から, 'from/by himself’ in front of it, it infers Victor being the first person Yuuri wants to reach out to and bond with, and with those bonds, bind them together so that they would never part.

I highly recommend reading the full post if you're interested in the linguistic nuances of translations from Japanese to English regarding Yuri!!!.

In his speech, Yuuri voices his desire to form an inseparable bond with Viktor (it's quite a lot like "stay by my side and never leave" if you think about it, although he uses a different vocabulary). Bonds are often symbolised by a knot. In this sense, the necktie comment would refer to the new bond Yuuri and Viktor will form henceforth.

It's unclear when Viktor learns Japanese love language and dating culture (you can read my post on Japanese dating culture in YOI here). In episode 9, Viktor correctly identifies Yuuri's (accidental) marriage proposal, but when did he brief himself on these things? In fact, he uses love language as early as episode 3 ("I love katsudon"), but was he aware of this? Whether or not he is, it's beyond doubt that the creators knew what they were doing when they gave him this line. In this light, his necktie comment suggests that he understood Yuuri's kokuhaku very well and gave a unique response that refers to their future bond and is true to his character. This is top-notch storytelling.

To sum this up, whether Viktor understood Yuuri at once and responded accordingly, or this line foreshadows that he will understand somewhere between episodes 5 and 6, his comment implies that they will start dating soon after. And we see the result in episode 6.

If you enjoy my meta posts, please consider giving my blog a follow or checking out my works on AO3(link in bio). You will find the results of my meta musings in there!

#yuri on ice #yoi meta #my yoi meta #katsuki yuuri #viktor nikiforov #anime #meta post #interpretation #viktuuri #language barriers #love language #love confessions

[jomiddlemarch]

Willow, weep for me

He’d survived pirates, plague, shipwreck. Abandonment by his captain. Abandoning his own children.

Starvation, capture, eluding the executioner’s sword in the nearest of ways. 

He could survive this.

John followed Lady Kiku into her private chamber, keeping his eyes fixed on the embroidered hem of her scarlet robe.

That it was supposed to be every man’s most extravagant fantasy, intended as a boon from his liege lord, did not ease the weight in his chest, the sick feeling in his stomach. He heard Mariko’s voice, the pauses between her words, the devastating candor with which she imbued the courtesan’s disquisition, and his wavering faith was shored up, as for certes, it could only be his soul which ached so terribly, which longed to answer her.

She had gone away, demurring when Lady Kiku had invited her to come inside, and it was not that he wished she had agreed but rather than he wanted, most dearly, to have turned and followed in her wake, even if the night would yield nothing more than dreams or another recitation of the Lord’s Prayer. She would say he ought to grow accustomed to being denied his heart’s desire. She would say he ought not have a heart’s desire, but only faith and duty and the ability to retreat to a hold so deep within it could never be breached.

He thought she would have said that, before Lady Kiku spoke and gave utterance to the devastating truth of Mariko’s soul.

Now, he had no idea what she would say. She had gone and, in his mind, she was silent, her face turned away. If he had called after her, she would not have come. Lady Kiku had led him into her room, a most elegant environment for debauchery, and he must needs allow her to make free with him, for he was still being watched and it would not do to have questions raised about his virility or allegiance.

There was some jest to be gleaned from it, he whoring himself with the whore his lord had secured for his satisfaction, but he could not find even the darkest amusement in it. He had broken his vows to Mary and perhaps to Fuji, but he cared only for what Mariko wanted; she would likely not see his coupling with Kiku as worth remarking upon or would only consider it the sin the priests warned of.

He must lie with the most exquisite doxy in the Japans and he felt only that he wanted to vomit.

Lady Kiku perceived nothing of this or perhaps all. She bade him sit, so he sat, and she moved about the room in a way that might have been the most irritating fussing, save that she was so graceful he could have gladly watched her for hours, if that was all that was he required of him. She was exaggerating for him, he knew, for he’d not noticed anything when she’d poured out the tea and now he saw how she could make herself appear as a blossom floating on breeze, a swan gliding across a lake. He wished he could tell her he appreciated her skill, her beauty elevated and refined, and that if she intended it to arouse him, she was wasting her time.

It might have been soothing, except that he knew what was expected of him. Appetite, rutting, a great beastly noise to signal his climax, confirmation of the hairy animal they found him to be, albeit one canny and worth training to the lead. Lady Kiku would report on his response, how base he was, how malleable, and he must let her believe it so, must make her believe it so, or risk not only himself, his men, still imprisoned and beyond his succor, but also Mariko, whose honor he understood would be impugned if he refused the courtesan’s attentions or failed to display the ready cockstand her tutelage had ensured she could command.

He would have prayed, except he couldn’t construe that even a Protestant God would be very sympathetic to his plight.

Lady Kiku knelt in front of him, regarding him steadily. Her skirts were spread around her, too vivid to remind him of blood. There would not be laces or knots to contend with, he might muddle his way through to her skin without much effort, and she should take that as evidence of his hunger. He began to reach out, hoping his reluctance looked like appreciation or wonder, the daring of a young boy incredulous at his luck.

She took hold of his wrist in her hand and stopped him. With her other hand, she touched his cheek and then the skin beneath his eyes, indicating her interest with the slightest dip of her chin, a parting of her lips.

“They’re blue, that’s how we say it,” he offered. She’d not understand a word. Mariko had learned some English already, her Portuguese fluent, her Latin as good. She’d known azul, learnt blue the first time he said it, unable to entirely restrain the delight she took in the knowledge, a smile curving her lips as if she tasted a sweetmeat.

Kiku sidled closer, her hand moving back down to alight on his shoulder. She pushed him gently, meaning for him to lie back upon the wadded up silk coverlets that must serve as bedding and he let himself fall back clumsily. She rose above him, straddling his hips, and leaned over, her face very near his own. One hand braced on his shoulder and she used the forefinger of the other to lightly touch his eyelids, the gesture telling him to shut his eyes.

He didn’t want to see her. It was his only joy to be able to acquiesce and know that he’d pleased both of them. He could only achieve that in this one way.

He would have to trust she could rouse his cock to congress, her training sufficient to her needs.

“I am Mariko,” she said slowly, enunciating the words with immense care. 

He would have understood them if she’d rushed, but she was cautious. 

She brushed her lips very softly against his own, almost chaste. She pulled back and spoke again.

“I am Mariko,” she repeated and then kissed him again, the hand she’d used to close his eyes now stroking his temple and then cradling his head. With the caress, she licked at his lower lip, sucked at it like it was a rare and tempting fruit. Startled, he opened his mouth and she swooped in, kissing him deeply, with a consummate confidence and a curious tenderness. 

If he had not ever kissed Mariko, if he had not held her tightly in his arms and felt her taste him, tentative and then eager, taking from him as she gave herself, he might have been persuaded by Kiku’s assertion.

He was a fool, yes, but he could not be fooled.

Kiku continued to kiss him, her hands moving deftly to draw his robes from his body, her touch on his bare skin appreciative, coaxing. He let her do what she would without interfering, his eyes still closed; he would not have to see her revealed in the amber lamplight as Mariko had been. He would try to pretend, as she urged him to; he’d choose to find it a kindness and not a snare that would tighten around him every moment after he left the Willow World.

His flesh was more willing than his mind. With every caress, he recalled Mariko in his arms. The way her hair had tickled his chest, how she had been ardent and also unexpectedly tentative, how his every response had emboldened her. She had made of him the man he liked best, strong and not brutal, thoughtful, accomplished, inquisitive. She had been quiet, her gasps and sighs guiding him, but he’d begun to prattle the giddiest lovesick nonsense in English; she had told him not to speak but he meant for her not to understand.

Dearest love, you’re like a fragrant posy, sweet as May, my tender dove, you’ve my heart entire, he’d murmured, his hands seeking her joy, learning her pleasure. There had been nothing practiced about her reaction. Indeed, she’d seemed new to carnal delights though she’d been a wife over a decade before she’d been widowed. He knew now Buntaro had never been able to stir her, had likely been rough and quick if the wounds he’d given her were any indication of his temper, his frustration with her withdrawal. For John, she’d allowed herself to move beyond the poised bedmate who’d come to him in silence into the woman newly roused. She had trusted him to know when she needed gentleness and when she wanted his vigor, his fervent thirst for her unslaked.

“I am Mariko,” Kiku said, now a warning, their bodies bare, her thighs spread above his hips. She’d worked him well enough, his lance raised, and settled herself down upon him with ease, riding him without urgency. The scent of their sex was heavy in the air, inescapable. There must be worse ways to be possessed, he was well aware, but still he wished to turn his face away and hoped she would make him spend quickly. She didn’t fondle him or try to kiss where she might, as he and Mariko had done together, their closeness desirous of an even more compleat union, love superseding lust, putting the flesh in service of the heart.

He hoped Kiku did not understand, but she must, to say what she did and how, in a tongue she knew he struggled to master. She was giving whoever watched the performance that was expected, a set piece of theater, and John could not be sure what he would owe her for it. It was a debt doubled, one part Kiku’s, one to his heart, for putting his life and the honor he gave to Toranaga above his affection for Mariko.

John was not certain he would ever have the proper coin to pay it.

He felt the tear that slipped from the corner of his eye to his temple. Kiku might not notice. Anyone watching was likely to think it sweat engendered by the coupling. It should not be a risk.

“Anjin-san,” Kiku called out as she tensed her quim around his cock. Her hand on the crest of his hip tightened and she’d mastered him. He let himself grunt with the peak, a sound audible to any listeners. 

He might yet have betrayed himself but he hadn’t made it easy for anyone to spread filthy rumors about perversion or weakness. What Kiku would do was much as a storm cloud on the horizon, something he could see yet do nothing about. The wind might lash him, the ship might founder, or the ominous darkness might dissipate, a clear dawn painted with gold and crimson beckoning him onwards.

He opened his eyes.

Kiku moved to his side, balanced on her hip and elbow. She was beautiful, her skin gleaming like pearl. He had never felt more alone. She touched the tearstain on his skin and then his lips. He lay still, the male animal in repose. She pulled the bedclothes around him, and began to withdraw.

“Arigato, Kiku-sama,” he said. Something flickered in her gaze, something she must keep hidden.

“Blue,” she replied, looking at him keenly, nodding in the slightest acknowledgement.

He closed his eyes again and slept.

“Please tell Lady Kiku I don’t have words to thank her,” he said the next morning. It was a grey morning and he’d slept poorly, dreaming dreams he dare not recall when he woke.

Mariko translated. She did not say what he had said and she did not tell him what Kiku’s reply was. It was a relief, to hide within her deception, to feel himself concealed by her, when last she had walked away, his fingers grazing her hand.

“I did not shame you,” he said, after the exchange was done and they were making their way back to his home. 

“I did not think you would,” she said. They had not looked at each other direct and her tone was measured, without any of the previous night’s poignancy, nor the warmth of the night they’d spent together. There was not even a hint of the woman who’d recited the Lord’s Prayer and then laid her palm upon the paper pane like a petal alighting. He felt the fatigue of the night upon him, a coldness in his marrow, at the base of his skull.

“I had a bath arranged for you,” Mariko said. “In your rooms. The maids will have seen to it and they will leave you to your own devices.”

“You are required elsewhere?” he asked. He could not ask her to stay and Lord Toranaga might have need of her.

“No,” she said. “I shall be there when you finish, Anjin-san.”

#shogun 2024 #fx shogun #john blackthorne #toda mariko #john x mariko #romance #angst #kiku #willow world #marikothorne #tw: noncon #canon au #deleted scene au #language barriers #1x06 #how john deals with the encounter with kiku #kiku is extremely canny

[where-our-stories-start]

Meet Kirsten (Janet Beeler Shaw) // "A Lesson on Love" (Nikita Gill) // Outlander 4x05 // Ella Enchanted (Gail Carson Levine) // liminalpolytheist // Tarzan // "Darkness and Trees Reprise" (Come From Away)

#web weaving #language barriers #surpassing language barriers #american girl #kirsten larson #meet kirsten #nikita gill #outlander #ella enchanted #tumblr #liminalpolytheist #tarzan #come from away #cfa

[haveyoureadthisfanfic]

Summary: When Zim's universal translator stops working, he has no choice but to learn how to speak English. Dib offers to help, but for a price.

Author: @dizplicity

#official fic poll #haveyoureadthisfic #pollblr #tumblr polls #fanfiction #fandom poll #fanfic #fandom culture #internet culture #language barriers #invader zim

[darlingwhump]

The Raid

CW: kidnapped whumpee, conditioned/helpless whumpee, pirate whumper, mermaid whumpee, anxiety, language barriers, whumpee thinks caretaker is new whumper, a teensy bit of dehumanization, character death

Whumpee shivers in fear as yet another blast sounds from above deck, rattling the entire ship and creating a ripple in the wooden tub that had served as her prison for gods know how long. She sinks as far underwater as she can get, taking deep breaths through her gills in a last-ditch attempt to calm down.

BOOM! Her sanctuary is shaken, and through the water Whumpee can make out muffled shouting. They sound angry. Her breathing grows quicker. THUD! A body falls to the ground right above the room where she is being held. In shock, she pops her head above the water as if she could see what was happening, and within seconds, another BLAST sends her underwater again.

She hugs her tail as best as she can with it being chained to the side of the tub. Whatever was happening up there, it wouldn’t end well for Whumpee. The Captain doted on her, claiming that she was their crew's most precious treasure, but she felt a lot more like a punching bag.

She had long since accepted her helplessness. If there was a mutiny, frustration would eventually be taken out on Whumpee. If the crew was being raided or attacked, and the ship sunk, she would not be able to unlock the chain that confines her to this cabin, and would be doomed to starve. Even if she was so well behaved, even when the crew was getting along and living lavishly, a reason would still be found to torment her. To pirates like them, treasure was nothing other than spoils of battle to admire and play with.

She is torn out of her thoughts by the sound of footsteps making their way towards the Captain’s cabin. There are no more blasts, but Whumpee hears unfamiliar voices arguing with Captain Whumper just outside.

“It’s over…” Whumpee has only learned a bit of the common tongue, Alman, since being in captivity, but she hangs onto every word she can, placing her hands on the edge of the tub to get closer to the door, “give...everything you have and we…allow…on a lifeboat…”

Whumper says something too quiet for Whumpee to make out, but it angers whoever is attacking. Blades are suddenly clashing against each other, and water sloshes as Whumpee jumps back. Oh gods, oh gods, Whumpee’s mind is racing and the ship is being raided and Whumper is upset and what if she’s stolen again--Whumper and the crew are going to be so so so mad either way.

She is so lost in her thoughts that she doesn’t even realize that the commotion has stopped. After a few moments of silence, she hears shuffling around the room, no speaking, not any she can make out anyways. Drawers opening, keys jangling, and more footsteps up on the main deck. Uncertainty hangs in the air, seeping into her days-old water and making it feel acidic against her scales.

Keys are shoved into the door to her tiny cabin off of the Captain’s. Involuntarily, Whumpee whimpers and shuts her eyes. She typically dreads each time the door clicks unlocked, but this time, she really hopes it’s Captain Whumper. She can’t bear to be stolen again.

The door creaks open, and Whumpee holds her breath.

“Shit…” the unfamiliar voice muses, obviously taking in the sight of a mermaid before them. It was going to happen again, and just like last time, she had no way out. “Whumper…lying…quite the collection.” Whumpee tries to keep up with the Alman grammar, but the voice speaks with a dialect and she can’t understand. Would she have to learn another language now?

She slowly opens her eyes to see a humanoid figure with long, curly dark hair. Their hair, along with their face and clothes, are plastered with blood and soot, and in the distance, Captain Whumper has been impaled, laying face down on the carpet he once punished Whumpee for spilling ale on. Everything goes numb. Whumper is dead.

“...little one?” The figure asks, and Whumpee’s heart drops into her stomach. She wasn’t listening.

“U-uh, sorry,” she struggles to find the words in her haze. So many things are happening at once, and she can’t move or think. She averts her eyes to the water,  “did not…hear, sorry.”

The figure crouches down a bit closer, blocking Whumpee’s view of the dead Captain, and Whumpee’s shoulders tense. “It’s alright. I just asked…name?”

“Name…name is Whumpee…” she paused, unsure of how to address her new captor. Would they even capture her? Whumpee notices the glint of another dagger at the person’s hip. Or…would they just kill her like they did with Whumper?

“Alright, Whumpee…is that name Aquan?” The figure questions, and Whumpee nods sheepishly. “I never…Aquan…talk to our Captain later.” Whumpee’s eyes dart to where Captain Whumper is lying dead behind the figure. “Hey…it’s okay.” They pause, looking down at the bruises that litter her skin, the chain around her sprained tail, her swollen gills and bloodshot eyes, and let out a sigh. “He hurt you, didn’t he?”

Whumpee’s eyes well up with tears. She has been hurt. So much. She nods again, much faster this time.

“...Well listen, once…clear out…get some help…healing…okay?” Another nod from Whumpee. All she can do is nod now, her mind racing with thoughts of Whumper’s death and being punished for the blood on the carpet and this raider asking her questions and her water being dirty and being hurt for so long and it’s all too much. But healing and help…sounds nice. Even if it means being captured once more.

“Caretaker!” someone yells out, and the figure looks behind them.

Another raider enters the small room, glancing surprisedly at the mermaid before conversing too quickly for Whumpee to understand. The conversation ends with a hearty laugh from Caretaker and they turn to the wooden tub once more. “We…business…but I promise after…help get the chain off…to our ship.” Caretaker takes Whumpee’s frail hand in theirs and squeezes gently. “...be right back.”

Caretaker exits and shuts the door to shield Whumpee’s eyes from the dead Captain, but the clicking of the lock isn’t heard. Still feeling overwhelmed, Whumpee sinks under the water once more, curls into her tail, and lets out a sob.

#whump #mer whump #mermaid whumpee #pirate whump #rescue #morally grey caretaker #captive whumpee #abused whumpee #caretaker new whumper #language barriers #scared whumpee #pirate whumper #cruel whumper #helplessness #I got so many whumperflies while writing this #so I think I'm finally doing this right #darling writes

[viccyfics]

Barriers chapter 1

Mountain

"Let's go!" Aurora squealed. Today was the first time she and Phantom were having a lake day, and they wanted to make the most of it.

"Wait," Mountain said, stopping her. "Phantom, can you grab my thongs? I forgot them."

Phantom stared at him, his eyes wide.

"Your thongs?"

Mountain nodded, "They're in my wardrobe. You can't miss them."

"Um…okay. Any particular colour?"

"I only have two pairs. Grab whichever you see first."

Phantom headed down the hallway to Mountain's room.

It wasn't that strange that Mountain wore thongs, but he was already wearing a pair of trunks.

Maybe he wanted them for afterward? But he didn't have any other clothes with him.

READ THE REST ON AO3

#Ghost band fanfic #Aurora ghoulette #Phantom ghoul #Mountain ghoul #Australian mountain #Vic fics #Language barriers #Ghost BC fanfic

[cinnamoncountess]

In regards to whether or not the actresses and actors were allowed to change the dialogue spontaneously, without anyone noticing or caring.

Maciej: No. Bo and Jantje they really want to know everything what's going on there, so there was a whole system created in order for us to like not change the words or if we change for them to know it at the exact moment. So each time like, uh, Miguel [Bernardeau] was doing a scene there was someone from Spain like always in contact with Bo. I had also a special person dedicated, she was always on the set when we had scenes so it was created in order to, you know, not let that happen, actually. But they were okay with us, like, proposing things. So, if we wanted to give something we could consult [them].

source

#1899 #1899 spoilers #maciej musiał #miguel bernardeau #1899 languages #language barriers #1899 cast #1899 interviews #netflix 1899

[envy-of-the-apple]

ive been really obsessed with your gojo/geto naga oneshots and asks lately it feels like literal brain rot at this point its so good. ive reread it 6 times lol

i was wondering though, what would Geto do if Gojo was just a little bit too heavy handed with you? to the point of a sprained or broken arm or leg. Would he get mad at Gojo or just mad in general that reader was hurt? Also how would they act in response to the injured reader who can't do basic tasks themselves, I personally think they would enjoy the fact she relied on them even more to even move now.

Reminder requests are still closed!!!! I just love this idea so so much holdon lemme-

Part one

(Yandere, dark, implied forced relationships, noncon touching, biting, language barriers, drugging(?))

Top of the Food Chain pt2

Dark!Naga!SatoSugu x reader

Two days later, Satoru still wasn't allowed inside the cave.

You can hear him, hissing and clicking, right outside, hovering just behind the invisible line Suguru refused to let him pass. If you weren't already in so much pain, you would have found pity on the poor thing. He wasn't allowed in his own home, even though the incident wasn't entirely his fault.

Technically, Satoru saved you. It was yet again another escape attempt. Something you'd been doing a lot these days once you've figured out these beings' intentions with you. You'd gotten past the rock quarry this time, a new record. Your plan was filled with holes: there was no way to truly escape the island. You had no boat, no way to call for help. Still, you ran, forgetting that there were more dangerous things on this island other than two territorial serpent men.

It was a monster. There was no other way to describe it. Big, ugly, shiny spikes and sharp teeth, eyes dripping with bloodlust. You would have been eaten, killed, maimed, if Satoru hadn't caught up with you in time.

The only collateral was the loss of nearby plant life and your broken wrist.

That had been Satoru's fault. He'd pulled at you too hard at the hand. The remnants of adrenaline from the fight, his anger, anger made him too rough on your fragile body. He froze at the wet snap, and then you started screaming. That was how Suguru had found you. Despite how much Satoru clicked and hummed and tittered, from his mate's look, you doubted it helped his case.

Another lonely coo made you wince. Suguru only huffed, wrapping you tighter in his coils. They were already warm from your body heat. The numerous animal pelts helped your comfort too.

"Make him stop," you beg, "he's been going on for hours."

At that, Suguru lifts his head from the base of your neck. He tilts his head as he surveys you, and you can't help but think how awful you must look. Sickly-looking from the pain, clammy skin. He can't do much about your appearance, but the least he could do was shut Satoru up.

"What want?" Suguru asks, "water?"

At that, he picks up a sack filled with sea-smelling water. You wrinkle your nose, turning away, cocooning yourself within his coils. With the increased pain, your appetite has decreased, as well as your thirst. The stress of being trapped like this along with your broken wrist was starting to take its toll on your body.

Suguru makes a sound of disapproval, shuffling around behind you. You know he's still mad about the escape attempt, but he's concerned enough for your well-being to put his anger to the side for now. He'd helped wrap your wrist, using something stretchy and soft.

You raise your wrist up, inspecting the thin material wrapped around your wrist. You're not sure what it is, it's too silky to resemble cotton. It must be from the foliage around the island. Yet, another strange thing you'd never find the answer to.

There's another rumble coming from the Naga's chest. He wraps a hand around your chin, bringing your face closer. In his other, he holds the dripping sack.

"Suguru," it's too soft to be anything more than a whine, "it hurts too much to take anything right now. Stop."

"Hurt?" he asks.

To that, you gesture to your broken wrist. It may not have been broken, you were no doctor, so you couldn't say for certain. But considering you'd been in the same amount of pain for two days, it really didn't matter to you.

A click, before he's tossing a glare at the entrance of the cave. He'd already given Satoru a beating right before coming to coddle you. Despite being bigger than his mate, Satoru is docile enough to take them. Suguru had been acting more aggressive lately. You had a feeling it was your fault.

He'd been inspecting your wrist every so often, but you see a different look within his brown eyes now as he takes your injured hand. He carefully turns your palm over, pressing slightly into your wrist. When you yelp, he retracts.

"Hurt." Suguru confirms. You can only nod.

"Hurt. No drink? No eat?" You don't like the way he's talking. As if he's putting a puzzle piece together. Coming to a solution you won't like.

When you go to pull away, his grip only tightens.

"No hurt," he says it like a promise, as though you're a toddler and he's coaxing you into drinking a sour-tasting medicine. His lips part, revealing the fangs you've often seen him use on meat, on Satoru.

Never did you think he'd ever use them on you.

"Suguru," you're pleading, trying to move away when he bends down, his hair brushing your sweaty forehead. You can feel his breath on your neck.

"No hurt," he repeats, and then he bites down.

He lied, of course, he did. His teeth puncture your skin, tearing through like paper. You think you screamed, or maybe it was more akin to a pitiful whimper. In the background, you can hear someone hiss, Satoru maybe?

For a second, you feel everything, the pain, the puncture wound, Suguru lightly licking your neck.

And then, you feel weightless.

It's hard to describe, but your brain feels like it's turned to mush. Your body feels like you're on a soft cloud, just there, floating. In the back of your mind, you remember how dazed Satoru would get whenever Suguru bit him. At the time, you just thought he was lovestruck.

When Suguru pulls away, he's smiling. A trail of blood, your blood goes down his lip. You can barely keep your eyes on him, close to falling asleep.

"No hurt," he says. When he leans down to kiss you, you accept without a single fuss.

You don't remember much after that, but you remember accepting whatever Suguru put in your mouth. The panic in your body was non-existent as he held the water-sack above your lips, watching as your throat bobbed. You think he kissed you a few more times, but you're not too sure. You were a lot more averse to kissing before. It'd make sense he'd take advantage of it.

When you wake up again, you're in between two bodies. The pain in your wrist is still there, but not as horrible as before. You're still groggy, mind fuzzy. Whatever Suguru had given you was still in effect.

Satoru is the first to notice you're awake. Suguru and him must have made up during the time you were unconscious. He props himself up, peering down at you. With how dim the cave is, you can barely make out his features. He looks just as guilty as he had two days ago.

"Sorry," he mutters, "is sorry."

If you weren't still high, you might have laughed. When you continue to stare, he takes it in stride, leaning forward to kiss your cheek, then your lips. You wince in distaste, leaning back.

"Stop," you say but don't fight when he licks at your jaw. You can barely move your fingers.

Panic is still far away, a distant call than anything alarming. It should worry you, but you still can't feel anything.

Suguru is at your back. You can hear his scales move across the cavern floor. He gives a hum, content as he curls himself around you. He doesn't seem to mind Satoru's touches. Your theory that they must have made up is unfortunately starting to strengthen.

You could barely manage Suguru's coddlings. You don't think you'll survive Satoru's.

"Sorry," he mouths into your neck. You can feel the grip on your waist starting to tighten. He stops, rising up to stare at you.

Blue, almost glowing.

"But no more leave."

You're coherent enough to piece together what he means. You can't escape Satoru. You can't escape Suguru. You can't leave this island. Running away is useless.

The nagas understood it. It's time you did too.

"Yes," you finally say, "no more leave."

#yandere #yandere jjk #dark content #dark gojo satoru #dark jjk #non con touching #implied drugging #yandere gojo satoru #yandere geto suguru #dark geto suguru #naga au #naga gojo satoru #naga geto suguru #language barriers #polygamous relationship #yandere satosugu

[memento-morieris-carpe-noctem]

October 5th

#dracula daily #dracula #van helsing #language barriers #when you're an old dutch man surronded by English speakers #my memes #October 5th

[thegirlwhorideslikeasamurai]

Someone who is beta-reading a secret project of mine just told me that the giveaways that English isn't my first language are barely noticeable. I've always thought it was so obvious and that it would put people off 😭😭😭💗💗💗

#writing #fanfiction #writerslife #language barriers

[grim-faux]

I know the weird speek mechanic throws a lot of readers off for TuNe the TraNsMIsSioN, but I have thoroughly enjoyed playing with the dips between what the children internal monologue is like, and the shift of the narrators description.

There is this obscure palpitation where the third-narrator checks out, and the kids internal thoughts sweep into the more simplistic, feral ‘ideas’ - I guess that’s the best way to describe it. It doesn’t represent anything distinctive that the reader needs to internalize why the kids do that, except that in high-stakes, panic induced situations, the kids don’t really have formed words or dialogue. Everything is basic cues on the environment.

Flee. Hide. Noise? Lost. Shadow. Hole. Door? Window!

That’s a string of words that’s not conveyed in english, but it’s translated for - blah-blah-language-go-brr.

It’s tricky trying to determine how much to translate out for the reader, so a particular situation is conveyed, but also maintain some consistency. And there are times where I like the ambiguity - sometimes I want the reader to think hard about something I child is regarding and studying, because that other perspective is interesting to offer for interpretation.

#writer #writing #feral mono #feral children #its a big criticism #aside from all the drama going down #language barriers #communication

[richo1915]

The First Act of the Mercenary Army in the Truceless War with Carthage.

“Throw!” For the Carthaginians being always accustomed to employ mercenary troops of miscellaneous nationalities, in securing that an army should consist of several different races, act wisely as far as the prevention of any rapid combinations for mutiny, or difficulty on the part of the commanders in overawing insubordination, are concerned: but the policy utterly breaks down when an outburst of anger, or popular delusion, or internal dissension, has actually occurred; for it makes it impossible for the commander to soothe excited feelings, to remove misapprehensions, or to show the ignorant their error. Armies in such a state are not usually content with mere human wickedness; they end by assuming the ferocity of wild beasts and the vindictiveness of insanity. This is just what happened in this case. There were in the army Iberians and Celts, men from Liguria and the Balearic Islands, and a considerable number of half-bred Greeks, mostly deserters and slaves; while the main body consisted of Libyans. Consequently it was impossible to collect and address them en masse, or to approach them with this view by any means whatever. There was no help for it: the general could not possibly know their several languages; and to make a speech four or five times on the same subject, by the mouths of several interpreters, was almost more impossible, if I may say so, than that. The only alternative was for him to address his entreaties and exhortations to the soldiers through their officers. And this Hanno continually endeavoured to do. But there was the same difficulty with them. Sometimes they failed to understand what he said: at others they received his words with expressions of approval to his face, and yet from error or malice reported them in a contrary sense to the common soldiers. The result was a general scene of uncertainty, mistrust, and misunderstanding. And to crown all, they took it into their heads that the Carthaginian government had a design in thus sending Hanno to them: that they purposely did not send the generals who were acquainted with the services they had rendered in Sicily, and who had been the authors of the promises made to them; but had sent the one man who had not been present at any of these transactions. Whether that were so or not, they finally broke off all negotiations with Hanno; conceived a violent mistrust of their several commanders; and in a furious outburst of anger with the Carthaginians started towards the city, and pitched their camp about a hundred and twenty stades from Carthage, at the town of Tunes, to the number of over twenty thousand. The men at once hurried to make a meeting; Spendius and Mathōs delivered violent invectives against Gesco and the Carthaginians; their words were received with every sign of approval; no one else could get a hearing; whoever did attempt to speak was promptly stoned to death, without the assembly so much as waiting to ascertain whether be intended to support the party of Spendius or no. A considerable number of privates as well as officers were killed in this manner in the various émeutes which took place; and from the constant repetition of this act of violence the whole army learnt the meaning of the word "throw," although there was not another word which was intelligible to them all in common. The most usual occasion for this to happen was when they collected in crowds flushed with wine after their midday meal. On such occasions, if only some one started the cry "throw," such volleys were poured in from every side, and with such rapidity, that it was impossible for any one to escape who once ventured to stand forward to address them. The result was that soon no one had the courage to offer them any counsel at all; and they accordingly appointed Mathōs and Spendius as their commanders.

#polybius of megalopolis #polybius histories #carthage #carthaginian mercenaries #truceless war #throw #languages #language barriers #humour #rome #roman #spqr

[harrison-abbott]

#lols #language barriers

[whymasi]

49

English lessons by dragon_lady24 (AO3)

Yuki, really, really need to work on his English, because there is no way he really means what he says in those interview. Or at least that's what Pierre tells himself

Given the amount of chaotic older sibling-younger sibling energy this pair has, and sometimes their interactions leave much to think about (ahem), it’s :( that there aren’t many fics for the Alpha Tauri boys. Even in fics where Yuki appears alongside Pierre, Yuki’s mostly a side character (as a friend of Pierre) to Piarles.

To read a fic that has these two feature as the main pairing made me really happy hahaha, especially when the main idea revolves around the seemingly questionable 🤔 stuff Yuki says at times. It’s most probably due to a somewhat literal translation of the expression Yuki wishes to use from Japanese to English without being fully aware of the connotations brought about by popular media. Still, it was fun 🤣 to see this chaotic take on some ICONIC quotes from Yuki (cue: sleeping at Pierre’s house, boyfriend/girlfriend kind of feeling...)

The fic’s quite short too, so it makes for a quick but mood-lifting read 👍🏼

P.s. I really liked the last sentence jsdghjkl, what a cherry on the cake; it’s so sassy (and totally believable for Yuki’s character, just saying)

#alpha tauri #yuki tsunoda #Pierre Gasly #language barriers #or so we thought #f1 #Formula 1 #Formula One #f1 fanfic #AO3 fanfic