“Monty, c’mon. You’re trying to tell me that the big, bad, captain of the baseball team, starting pitcher, overall bad boy is too afraid to go through a haunted forest walk?” You laughed, pouting playfully as you tugged on your boyfriend’s arm. Monty rolled his eyes, holding back slightly.
“I just don’t like surprises.” He scowled, crossing his arms over his chest.
“C’monnnnnn!” You drew out the last syllable, grabbing onto his forearms, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Do it for me. You know it’s just going to be a bunch of college kids in drug store costumes, with corn syrup blood and plastic machetes. Please?? For me?” You pouted your lip, batting your eyelashes as you looked up at him.
“Goddamnit, Y/N.” A small smile spread across his face. “You know I can’t deal with your puppy dog eyes.” You squealed and threw your arms around him, your vest crinkling against his jacket as you pressed a kiss to his cheek.
“Thank you thank you thank you!” You smiled and hugged him tightly, breathing in the musky scent of his forest aftershave.
You shivered as a cold breeze blew through the trees, and Monty wrapped his arm around you as you started to walk through the dark trees. A tall man wearing a bloody orange jumpsuit tilted his head to the side, smiling maniacally as he pointed towards the right. You heard Monty inhale sharply as you passed by the man, and the fake ‘slit throat’ makeup became clear.
“This place gives me the creeps.” Monty whispered, moving closer to you, his brown eyes darting from side to side.
“I know. That’s the point, babe.” You laughed and wrapped your arm around his waist, both of you cautiously moving forward.
“Y/N? Did you hear that?”
“No, it’s probably just the wi-”
You were cut off as a shape jumped out from behind a tree, screaming loudly. Monty screamed even louder and pushed you behind him, flailing out with his arms.
Five minutes later, a large man in a blue security uniform had his hands wrapped around both you and Monty’s upper biceps, gently but firmly escorting you past the line to enter the forest, out to the dirt parking lot.
“Y/N?” Monty looked sheepishly over at you, his brown eyes hesitantly locking with yours as he bit his lip.
“Yeah?” You glanced over at him, eyebrows raised.
“I just…I just panicked. I really didn’t mean to punch that little girl, she just jumped out at me and then all of a sudden I just went into fight or flight mode and… I’m sorry.”
The security guard chuckled slightly, loosening his grip on both of your flannel clad arms. “Don’t worry, buddy. Happens more than you’d think. It’s not the first and it’s not the last time that’s happened.”
Hey nemling how do you spell reylo in Japanese? :O
Hey anon! As I said before, we don’t usually transcribe foreign names in Kanji, so we spell reylo just as レイロ.
BTW interestingly our way of naming ship is quite different from yours. We usually name a ship taking letters from their names( mostly the initial 2 letters), just connecting them and shortening it into 3-or-4-syllable word, like SasuSaku(サスサク). Cassian x Jyn pairing is always called CassiJyn or JynCassi（ジンキャシ）, not rebelcaptain and Baze x Chirrut is called BayChia（ベイチア）, not spiritassassin. In this way, in the early days some of us used to call reylo as ReyRen（レイレン）but it’s not the case now.
So, what we need to know first when searching for fanarts or fanfics on Tumblr is how the ship is called in English and that often takes time a bit. We’re sometimes impressed by your witty sense of ship naming(like stormpilot or jedistorm etc.), while ours is simply connecting each name!
then this should prove a very interesting test. / ep102.
you don’t understand.
when he was a boy and you were something that was not a boy you ran in the woods near mother’s little house and came back dirt-caked and breathless, and mother bathed you together, your small bodies a perfect set. by request she called you only by your shortened name, and him you never had to ask, and you were seven when you told him why and he said i know, of course i know.
you don’t understand. we haven’t –
when he was a boy and you were a single syllable the cold and distant mass of flesh that donated half your dna gathered you up and took you away, and you were ten and you finally added three new syllables to replace the ones you’d hacked away, and vax’ildan spun the full twirling length of your name from his tongue at every opportunity until your father stopped saying it wrong. everything else felt wrong but you still slept in the same room and attended the same lessons and — no, if you’re to be a young lady, vex’ahlia, you won’t bathe with your brother any longer, it’s improper. all of syldor’s acceptance felt like separation, drawing lines between you and your matched pair, your conjoined soul.
we’re identical, vax still announces proudly, at any time when it could possibly come up – a marker, descriptor for what you are in soul as well as features. in adulthood your body no longer resembles his in every way but in your slim faces you remain indistinguishable, like duplicate images of blurred vision, swimming together as clarity comes. it is a claim. i am her. she is me.
you don’t understand. we haven’t been apart —-
when he was very nearly no longer a boy and you were very nearly no longer a girl you fell knees-first into that same childhood dirt, that new adulthood ash. hands second, heels of your palms hitting the gravely ground with force enough to skin and then his, duplicates, copies, ten more fingers to double your own and his arms around you, one knee braced on the ground, your head pulled to his chest. your braid gently unraveled by his practiced fingers and your folded-wave hair smoothed down. tears blurred his vision, too, choked his deeper voice. i’ve got you. i’ve got you. we’ve got each other.
when he was grown and you were grown and family beyond each other seemed a distant and lost memory, impossible to remake, when it was only your two-part being and a tag-along bear – when you were a young woman you were deeply alone, matched by your brother who said we are all we need, matched by your brother who said we’re okay as long as we have each other, matched by your brother who can only be described as an extension of yourself as you are an extension of him. two, but one. that was not companionship. that was wholeness, just as essential, more so - you would not be yourself if you did not have vax, you would not be entire, you would be shivering and halved, you would barely live, but that did not mean it was enough. when you were alone and he was alone you stumbled into this, into them, and all the love you had - compressed to overflow, too much for one receptacle - spilled out from every pore to engulf them.
you don’t understand. we haven’t been apart in about ——–
when he was half a room and a rope away from fate and you were enthralled in the hunt for loot stood beside the only thing you ever found more enthralling ( straight nose under thin-rimmed glasses, the white shock of his hair worth every gold coin you’ve ever scavenged, his calloused hands ) —- when you were alive and then you were not, you could not imagine. you could not imagine. he broke free from the womb’s water wailing to be reunited with you. on the cold floor of the tomb you think he screamed the same.
you have wondered, often, if he did die that day, kneeling before the raven. you have wondered if the life in your blood is his now, and how long his rented days will stretch. you have wondered – but then you have remembered, it cannot work that way, it never could. your souls stretch and spring back to each other, bound at your hips. you were separated by life for no more than minutes at the start. you will be separated by death for no more than minutes at the end. nothing else is possible.
when he was dead and you were not you understood, finally, how he could do what he did, surrender himself utterly with no regard for himself – no regard for anything, not for his life should the trade be one for one, not for the love of keyleth who he would leave behind, not for the hollow shattering of you at the sight of him now in your place, cold and pale and given up to the queen for love of you. the hollow shattering of you now, still waterlogged, the shell of him still your mirror image, devoid of all that once occupied it and all that still occupies you. what little that is now. when he was gone and you were not you felt the stench of death rising, more potent than any of the times when she has grasped you, stopped your heart. fuck your heart. it serves no purpose, you do not need this fragmented existence, you need your brother —-
when he was alive and you were alive you sobbed. you did not know just how many parts of you were him until all of them were empty.
you don’t understand.
plane shifting is a recognizable feeling by now and you hit the unnatural grass of the feywild hand in hand with pike. it crunches beneath her weight, her armor, and sizzles from the heat the dawnmartyr still emits, the holy radiance which raised her. your body still aches of death, the word uttered by the lich god and the chill that took you and plunged you into black again, darkness and darkness and then pike’s warm hands calling her back. when he was a boy and you were a girl the moment you were laid down in the same crib you clasped each other’s ankles with every ounce of newborn strength you had, and calmed and would not let go. you began together, born together. you will end together. you know this. when you were dead and he was pinned to the floor with raven wings spread beneath him like martyrdom, when you were gone and not there to see and he was reduced to adulthood ash with a finger’s flick, with the image of your still body the last thing printed on his eyes before they turned to dust. you are alive and your heart beats out an absence, a fear.
our neighbors got chickens about the same time as i did but theirs are older and their rooster sounds, u know, like a rooster and i think it stressed my lil man out bc he’s also started crowing but he doesn’t know what he’s doing he sounds like a whiny fucking idiot lmao he’s missing several syllables and when they have Screaming Contests it sounds like they’re mocking each other i die every time
I don’t think William’s clip is the longest because Julie LOVES William, he barely says two words in that clip. By this point we know Julie likes to please her fans and even is defo a fan fave. Williams clip is so long because Noora, who does majority of the talking, takes a millennium or two to get a sentence out. That was some dead clip thanks to her not so dramatic pauses between each syllable.
The echo in Booming Ice Chasm is like nothing you’ve ever heard before. You have to pause for a few seconds after each syllable or your own words will drown out whatever you try to say next. Sing a series of notes and the cave will sing a chord back at you and hold it for nearly 10 seconds.
Seeing your discussions on pronouncing Mando'a recently got me wondering: how actually does one pronounce Mereel? Since English is my only language, I just defaulted to mer-EEL. But since there's two vowels, maybe it should be mer-EY-el (elided), or mer-EH'el (glottal stop) or the stress on the last syllable (mer-ey-EL or mer-eh'EL), or even the stress on the first syllable? I have no idea now and I don't know enough about Mando'a to make an educated guess. What is your opinion?
My FAVORITE thing about this question is that it’s something that comes up like every couple months or so. This specific “How do I pronounce Mereel?” question. I’m also like … simultaneously the best and worst person to ask, because my answer is literally “all ways to pronounce Mereel is the correct way,” and I maintain that Mereel would very likely feel the same way, given how he likes to flex words in any way he can.
I feel like one can really express just how they’re feeling @ Mereel simply by how they pronounce his name.
And like … even though I’ve been writing things to do with Mereel directly for quite a long time now, I still don’t pronounce his name in the exact same way every time bc … lmao, of course I don’t.
Personally, on any given day, I’d pronounce his name as either meh’REEL or meh’REY’ehl, or if shortened, then REY’ehl, as opposed to REEL. Pronunciation is entirely contingent on one’s accent and one’s dialect — of which I’ve insisted that mando’a must have multiple dialects, specifically due to the widespread reach of mandalorians during the Mandalorian Wars.
On a more serious note though …
Determining how Mereel’s name is pronounced “correctly” would actually require learning from where his name actually comes from, and its origins. If it’s a loan word from a different language, that generally affects how pronunciation “should” or “could” be.
Mereel’s name actually comes from a mandalorian clan: clan Mereel, of which Mand’alor Jaster Mereel was apart. The thing is, he’s native to Concord Dawn, located firmly within Mandalorian space, and served as a Journeyman Protector (the group that Fenn Rau belongs to) … but for whatever reason, he was not considered mandalorian until he was formally adopted by a True Mandalorian (faction).
The tricky thing here is that, at least in Legends, Concord Dawn has its own particular accent and dialect different from “standard” mando’a and main mandalorian space where Sundari is located. Jaster Mereel did not change his name when he was adopted, and so Mereel is technically a Concordian family name.
Where am I going with this?
Well, Concord Dawn was a predominantly agriculture world — the vast majority of the population who called the planet home were farmers, or part of an agriculture-focused industry of some kind.
The word that sounds and looks closest to Mereel would be … Neral, which translates to grain. And, it would make sense for a family name of a family native to an agricultural world, to be close to, or similar to, grain.
I feel like this is the closest, most genuine origin of the name. And, if this really is the case, then the “correct” way to pronounce Mereel would be closer to
mer - EYL / meh - REYL
I mean … aside from neral, there aren’t any close/similar words in mando’a that I can see. Then again, like many other family names, some changes can happen over time — and this isn’t quite taking into account dialectical differences between mando’a spoken by a Sundari mandalorian vs a Concordian.
On top of that, I could be completely off and it’s entirely possible that it’s not a name of Concordian origin but a combination of other words, something perhaps from:
mircin — cage
mhi — us/we
mhor — [rare, archaic] ours
used with some variation of IIL or AAL, or EL, though aal is more likely, as its word would already exist: aalar, to feel … but possibly also from elek, meaning yes
mir’aal — claustrophobic
mhor’el — agreement, accord
I like the idea that Mereel comes from neral, though, and it makes the most sense purely from history, and location, and people.
As an Assyriologist-in-training, I was pretty excited about cuneiform’s little cameo in Wonder Woman- there are no films at all about Mesopotamia, so even three seconds of flipping through a notebook of the languages I study was pretty exciting to see on the big screen. Now, I assumed at first that the writing in Dr Maru’s notebook, would simply be gibberish, but one thing about it stuck with me: how well copied the letters were. Now, Cuneiform writing was designed for clay and stylus, and it is BRUTALLY hard to write cuneiform symbols with pen and paper. You’d think you could just draw a bunch of triangles, but nope; the system was so clearly designed to use nuances only possible with stylus and clay, they’re nigh on impossible to accurately reproduce using pen. And whoever wrote that piece of paper did a damn good job of it. So, I remained convinced the text might actually have some meaning, and when I got home I started tinkering with it.
First things first: though the notes were described in the film as “Sumerian and Ottoman”, they’re not Sumerian. Dr Maru’s notes are very clearly written in the quite distinctive script of Neo-Assyrian Cuneiform, which was used on official inscriptions of the Assyrian Empire from around 1000- 700 BC. Sumerian died out as a spoken language in around 2000 BC and though it continued to be used in writing long after that in the same way Latin was in Europe, it was probably never written in the formal Assyrian script.
I’m going to safely assume the man who mistakenly called the page “Sumerian and Ottoman” got it wrong, but the fact that Diana doesn’t correct this, despite her vastly superior knowledge of ancient languages is interesting. Consider this though: historians estimate the destruction of the site of Hissarlik, which is thought MIGHT be the inspiration for the Troy legends to around 1300 BC, around the time of the Bronze Age collapse and dawn of the Greek Dark Ages. If we take this as the end of the Greek Mythic age and the hiding of Themiscyra in the DC Universe, Diana would only have been able to study Cuneiform scripts written before this period so she would know only Old Babylonian Cursive, or possibly even only Old Babylonian Lapidary. Neo-Assyrian script would be just legible with effort, but difficult for her to read.
Now, the way cuneiform works is that any one cuneiform symbol can represent one or more alphabetic sounds, OR syllables, OR entire words. Most stand for a number of those things, but some represent only one. The symbols that represent entire words are called Logograms, and they remained largely consistent through all the changes of the cuneiform writing system. If Dr Maru’s notes were primarily written in Logograms (which they turned out to be), it would make sense for Diana to still be able to read them despite the considerable changes between Old Babylonian Lapidary and Neo-Assyrian script, and also that she wouldn’t have to know Assyrian-era Akkadian to understand the logographic signs (because they represent whole words at once rather than spell them out alphabetically, they can be understood by speakers of multiple languages who know the signs).
So having sorted all that out, I began to translate. Virtually all the symbols were logograms standing for words like mountain, woman, king, builder etc, but a limited few stood for single syllables like “ru” or “ti”. This made no sense, because the signs used were consistent enough with the actual context in the film to make some sense and logically repetitive. Whoever wrote this knew what they were doing. Why intersperse them with random letters? I finally realised: Dr Maru is a chemist. The way her code works is that she uses mostly logograms, but uses signs for syllables when those syllables are our modern symbols for chemical elements. Every sign where a syllable-only translation was my only option, that syllable matched up with the abbreviation for a chemical element in the periodic table.
So, working with the assumption that Dr Poison’s code technique is using Logograms to represent whole words, and the symbols for sole syllables like ka, ga, la etc in their standard transcriptions from cuneiform to represent chemical elements, here it is at last, the first page of Dr Maru’s notebook:
To divide the town, one unit of the weapon to the throne of the builder: to please the builder, in the company of the god: lithium, 1 grain/seed of europium. 1 daughter of gold woman - yours. Country [given?] to god and then [to] lord/god/king. Ruthenium possibility, carbon disulfide*, and then rhenium. May it be pleasing to the country. Animal shoulder** Uunhexium*** . Lord/god and then gallium, and then radium. Weapon, iodine, administrator.
*This sign can mean “tree, wood” or, just stand for the sound “s”. So, i was left with a choice between carbon and sulfur, and settled on the compound
**I have no fricking idea why that’s in there, but it’s definitely that sign. Maybe she wants to make a pot roast and scribbled it down? Someone draw me happy dr maru and her pot roast pls
***This sign was VERY hard to identify, but i finally settled on the Old Babylonian Lapidary sign for “uuh”. Uuh also happens to be the chemical symbol for Ununhexium or Livermorium, a rare earth element not identified until the year 2000. This is strange, because this sign is CLEARLY Lapidary, while all the others are in the Neo-Assyrian script. So my conclusion is that Dr Poison isolated Uunhexium 92 years ahead of the game, it’s her big secret, and decided it needed a unique Logogram of its own, for which she adopted the sign for Uuh.
OH MY GOD YOUR OLDER BOKURO IS SO, UGH, I DON'T KNOW. I JUST LOVE THE WAY YOU DREW THEM WITH THE BABY. SO, IT'S TIME FOR SOME QUESTIONS: 1.Is it a girl or a boy? 2.Do you have any headcanons for the baby? 3.How would Bokuto and Kuroo be with their kids?
But that’s literally all I have to give you, this seriously wasn’t supposed to be more than just that one drawing haha
its 3:30am and I just woke up in a cold sweat because I realized noragami’s plot is literally a joke.
hiyori’s name is one syllable away from hiyoko, the japanese word for chick, i.e. a baby chicken. she becomes a half ayakashi and is then able to see beings from both the normal world and the far shore, as well as astral project herself and travel to places of the far shore that normal humans can’t. she gains the latter ability after running across the street to push yato out of the way of oncoming traffic.
noragami’s plot is literally: why did the chicken cross the road? to get to the other side.
She has blonde hair, always draped over the cover of a book,
to judge her by her cover would render you a criminal,
for her face says prose but her mind shouts as loud as verse.
A denim dust-jacket, collar up, concealing something unspoken,
stripping back the layers, the synopsis is different underneath
almost as dark as her youth’s twisted fantasies,
pages scrawled on her hands, up her arms in invisible ink,
longing to be read by anyone who cares enough to turn a page,
softly compressed words by the fingertips of a child,
spelling out each syllable and tasting the sound on their tongue,
for the first time, yearning to decode foreign symbols,
chapter by chapter a blurred image, becoming focused,
like a swift plane landing as villages gain clarity,
until you can see the brickwork and rosy cheeks in windows.
But she has a prequel of flicking through friends like those throw-away magazines,
five months out of date, in the dentist waiting room,
and skimming through romance because it is too removed from reality,
and praying for an unhappy ending to balance her own.
So, she perused fairytales through cynicism’s glasses
speaking only of how degraded she felt
and skipped straight to a novel to set her teeth on edge.
She’s rather terrified than jealous, rather angry than sad.
It just hits her sometimes. She was fine one minute, and then all at once, her mind would begin rearranging itself, like jigsaw pieces forcefully fitting together to form a puzzle she was never able to make sense out of.
Her thoughts were doses of potent psychedelics, and when she would share them with you, she would lure you in, and meticulously detach you from reality.
Listening to her speak made you feel like you were floating. Every syllable, every word, lessened the earth’s gravitational pull, every sentence lifted you further off the ground.
Sometimes I would look into her eyes and see nothing but dread, and sometimes I wanted to reach into the depths of her being and drag her demons out, but they had already built a home inside of her.
When her tragedies would bleed through her body, she would collect the blood in jars and use the red to paint self portraits, and when she would burst with feeling, she would rattle the core of the earth, and everything around you trembled.
I wanted to love the pain out of her, but I was too afraid, because it seemed like the pain had become her, and if I were to love the pain out of her, then I would love her soul away.