#helps with pronunciation and spelling though

[fingertipsmp3]

Might fuck around and learn Welsh

[sunnami]

the (poly) marauders + lily as reversed tropes.

a/n: i tried moving to a new blog.. possibly got shadowbanned... that other blog is now my dump blog, LMAO. pls enjoy this drabble!

i. academic rivals except it’s two teachers who compete to have the best class.

“It’s driving me mad, Prongs,” says a frazzled Remus Lupin, pacing back and forth in his nearly-empty classroom. Sirius watches from where he sits backwards on a wooden chair—not at all concerned with the woes of his lover, rather preoccupied with the derriere of the DADA professor, hugged beautifully by his trousers. (He makes a mental note to thank Lily and her shopping sprees in Muggle London later. And, thoroughly.) Lily eyes Remus warily, ignoring the way James is tugging at her newly-trimmed hair like a lovesick fourth-year. 

“I’ve fought in the bloody war, what do you mean my ‘pronunciation could do with some work’?” Remus scoffs, a bewildered expression on his flushed cheeks. Then, he points to the basket of lemon poppy-seed muffins, “And, the gall to send me that. Can you believe it?”

“No way,” Lily widens her eyes in mock outrage, gasping for melodramatic effect. “How dare anyone send our sweet, darling Remus homemade muffins?”

Remus dangles the swing handle of the wicker basket by his hand, nose scrunched in disgust as though it could turn him into a werewolf for the second time. “It’s not about the baskets, Lily! It’s a fear-mongering tactic—a threat, if you will. If Gryffindor doesn’t win the house cup, I might as well resign from my post.” 

James chortles, leaning back against his seat to fully stare at Remus. (And what a lovely face he has.) “Don’t you think you’re going overboard there, Moony? We’ve won the bloody thing every year—and if we’re running behind Hufflepuff, I can always give ickle Harry a hundred points for being our son. Quite a feat, wouldn’t you agree?”

Lily smacks him on the arm. “Don’t you dare, James Fleamont Potter!” 

Sirius whistles. “Full name. Yikes. You’re on your own there, mate.” 

James glares at him. “I’ve had my tongue down your throat, don’t call me ‘mate’.” 

Grinning, Sirius diverts his attention back to the pouting werewolf, struck by whatever magical spell you’ve cast on him—and their happy little wedded bunch. (He particularly likes the way you raise your voice when the Weasley twins charm your greenhouse with the colors of maroon and yellow. The upturn of your nose and raw fury in your eyes does something funny to his heart.) “Be honest, Moony, you’re just frustrated because our favorite professor is wearing those bell-bottom jeans that make their legs look just utterly delectable,” he grins salaciously. 

“Can confirm,” replies Lily with a chirpy nod. “The back view is even better.” 

“Well, yes, but that’s beside the point, my love,” Remus splutters with a cough. “It’s a matter of legacy and pride now. If—”

“While I appreciate being the topic of conversation, I’ve come to collect my students’ papers on Hinkypunks and Dugbogs,” you enter the fray with a knock on the door, startling them from their conversation; a wide smile on your face and a yellow scarf around your neck. “You see, I like to give them points myself when they score above a hundred percent. It really motivates them for the end-of-year exams.” 

James beams at your arrival, like a sunflower blooming under sunlight on a summer day. He stretches his arms wide, a space perfectly carved for you. “Come here, darling,” he calls out for his spouse, quickly affirming that the jeans you’re wearing is a blessing to the wizard kind. (He wonders if you’d let him peel it off you tonight.) As you perch yourself atop his lap, James nuzzles the crook of your neck, pressing soft, butterfly kisses to your skin. “How was your day?”

He captures your lips and you eagerly lean into his warmth. “Perfect now that I’ve found you all. Why were you hiding here, anyway?” you ask innocently, fluttering your lashes at Remus. “Did you get my gift, Moony? The elves helped me with it last night.”

“He’s just cross because you’ve become the entire castle’s favorite teacher in your first year,” Lily points out treacherously, flashing her doe eyes at Remus. (Great, now he’s got two pairs of the prettiest eyes on earth staring into his soul. He’s so beyond in love with everyone in this room.) “Not even the Malfoy kid complains about you, and he still grumbles when I have to do my yearly check-ups.”

You laugh knavishly, beckoning him over. “Is it my fault that I’m so lovable?” 

Remus scoffs, yet finds his feet drawn towards you in long, impatient strides. He leans down until the scent of ambrarome and coconut overwhelms your senses. You tug on his duck-printed tie, smiling as he grumbles lightheartedly into your lips, “Not at all, darling.”

“Shall I lock the doors now?” Sirius offers mischievously. “I’ve always wanted to do it in a classroom.”

ii. it’s too hot to cuddle!

“Mmmrgh, Lily, get off, you fiend,” you groan into the sweat-soaked pillow, suffering from one of the worst heat waves Godric’s Hollow has ever seen—swatting your wife away as she throws her leg over your thigh, impishly nibbling on your neck. On any other day, you’d relish the feel of her skin on yours, the tendrils of her flaming red hair tickling your bare arms—or the times you’d wake up to a tangled mess of crimson in your mouth. But today is just not that day.

Lily sniffles. “Ah, woe is me. My own son doesn’t want to hug me anymore, and none of the people I married want to cuddle me on this dreadful—what ever happened to ‘til death do us part’, you traitors?” 

You roll over on the bed to face her with an incredulous glare—the pretty witch has the nerve to smile at you. “Don’t be so dramatic, Lily. Just cast another cooling charm, or something.”

Lily flops onto her side of the king-sized bed, breathless and flushed, arms splayed out like an octopus—wincing apologetically when she hits you in the face by accident. “I already did. We might just have to get naked to put up with this heat.”

James pokes his head through the door, glasses forgone and black hair messily strewn over his eyes; the damp fabric of his white shirt clinging to chiseled, dark skin. (Ah, the joys of marrying an active Auror and former Quidditch prodigy.) “Did someone say get naked?”

“Way ahead of everyone,” says Sirius as he steps out of the bathroom, having taken his fourth shower today, and wearing nothing but his birthday suit, face towel strung over his shoulder and toothbrush in the side of his mouth. 

“Oh Gods, Sirius!” Lily squeals as she throws a pillow at him. “Get back in there and put some clothes on!” 

“What?” he retorts quizzically, swirling around to give everyone a show—and a generous view of his abs and firm backside. And, well, the other thing, too. “It’s not like you haven’t seen any of this before.”

Last to join the party is Remus, who barely spares a second glance to the naked Sirius Orion Black. “Pack your things, I got us a room at a Muggle inn for an hour. Harry’s downstairs waiting for everyone. He says he’ll rip off the stuffed Padfoot’s head if no one accompanies him to the pool later.” 

That is all he says before swiftly exiting the room.

You stare at the spot where he had been standing previously, whispering in awe, “God bless the Remus Lupins of the world.” 

iii. too much communication.

“—and the thing is,” you say through your weepy blubbering, nose swollen and eyes stinging from crying for the last thirty minutes. “When you guys get all secret-ey and start avoiding me, it really makes me feel like shite. And. . . and then—!” you pause to hiccup, breaking down into sobs once more when Sirius gathers you into his arms, laying his love all over your skin, kissing your tears away as he coos into your ear. “And then, Gilderoy Lockhart comes and says that you all hide away in this h-house, or shack, or whatever and meet your secret girlfriend there! I know you said it was just us and you’d never, ever cheat—and I trust you all more than life itself! But I have to know why you disappear from me every month on a particular night. A-Are you tired of me or something?”

Sirius hushes you with his lips, brows contorted—as though he’s in pain because you are in pain. He cradles the back of your neck, placating your worries with whispers of devotion. “Oh, darling, I’m sorry. We didn’t mean for it to get this far. We just wanted to keep you from harm. You’re our world, our entire heart. If you’re hurt, it hurts worse for us, little love.” 

Remus kneels by your feet, grabbing your hands in his; eyes dripping with fondness and warmth. The gold flecks in his eyes glimmering like stars in the night sky. “There’s something you have to know about me, love. We should have told you this long ago—but I was afraid you would look at me differently.”

You end up in another crying fit, overwhelmed by his kindness and sincerity. “I’ve seen you when you had food poisoning, Remus Lupin, I was the one who cleaned your vomit on the floors—nothing on this earth can make me look at you differently.”

Remus chokes, before gathering his bearings, hiding wet chuckles in your lap. “I’m a werewolf, my darling. That’s why we avoid you during full moons. To keep you safe. Your safety is always going to be one of my highest priorities. I’d die before I would let Moony harm a pretty hair on your head.” 

“Is that it?” you croak, whimpers subsiding as relief floods through your veins. “Truly?”

Remus nods. “Truly.”

“Oh, our poor love,” Lily murmurs, delicately running her hand through your hair, a worried knit in her brows. “I’m sorry we let it get to this point. Look at you—you’ll cry yourself sick.” She procures a daintily-embroidered handkerchief from her skirt pockets, gently dabbing at your damp eyes, eyes creased with love. “I’m sorry,” she says once more, pressing her lips to yours until all you feel is her instead of hurt. “No more secrets, I promise.”

James scratches the back of his head with a crooked grin. “Well. . . there is one more. Remember that time you saw a stag in the corridors? That was me. And, the dog trying to get a look under your skirt was Sirius.”

You blink. “What?”

iv. child hero has very involved parents.

Harry James Potter is known as the Boy-Who-Lived, the beloved Chosen One of the wizarding society, if you will. He has a destiny to follow and all that—well, if he could actually do anything heroic.

“What do you mean there’s a basilisk in the castle!” you shriek, a poor vase in Dumbledore’s office shattering to a million pieces. Harry drags a hand down his face—this is going to be a very long night. Suddenly, he regrets writing a letter to home about the happenings in the castle. (How was he supposed to know that all five of his parents would march into Dumbledore’s quarters the moment they heard about the blood on the walls and the petrified students?) “Why haven’t you shut down the school yet? Are you waiting for more students to get hurt?” you press on heatedly, James and Sirius flanking your sides like protective bodyguards. 

“Have you taken any protective measures?” Lily asks worriedly, holding onto Remus’s hand that’s resting on her shoulder. (Honestly, Harry thinks, rolling his eyes inwardly. The lot of you are worse than Molly Weasley at this point.) She turns to Harry, “What about Hermione? Is she safe? Oh, her parents must be worried.”

“You know what,” you say standing up, pivoting on your heel as your flock of lovers follow in suit. “We’re leaving, Harry dear, let’s go.” 

“Go?” the twelve-year-old echoes dumbfoundedly. “Go, where?”

“Home,” you reply with no room for arguments. “Until the matter is resolved, you are staying home. And tell Hermione she’s welcome to stay with us, too. And, Ginny. Ronald, as well. Actually, darling, why don’t you just tell all your friends the Potter manor is open to them whenever.”

Harry thinks you’ve just decided that on a whim, but he knows that Lily and his fathers will go along with whatever you want, regardless.

Your gaze slices to Dumbledore with a low hiss, venomous enough to rival a Slytherin’s taunt. “Fix this or I shall hunt down that basilisk myself.” 

Harry’s shoulders slump. 

So much for fulfilling prophecies and defeating dark lords.

a/n: drabbles are so fun!! this was so fun to write (but not trying to set up another blog.. NEVER AGAIN, I AM STAYING HERE!) i might do some more drabbles since my brain is fried after my last few fics which were long as heck.

[mariacallous]

Last year, the lead singer of The 1975, Matt Healy, managed to offend a whole lot of Gaelgoirí (Irish speakers) when he appeared to mock a fan’s name – Dervla – at a meet-and-greet.

Healy isn’t alone, though, when it comes to anglophone bafflement at Irish names. A recent study based on an analysis of Google searches revealed the words that British people have the most difficulty pronouncing. The names Aoife, Saoirse, Niamh and Siobhán occupy places in the top 10.

And it’s not exclusively a British problem: I always cringe watching US talkshows where the host quizzes their Irish guest (usually Saoirse Ronan) on the pronunciation of their and other Irish names.

I’ve heard every possible variation of my own name from non-Irish people. It’s not uncommon in Ireland; in secondary school, there were four Niamhs in my class. But I rarely come across an English person who is familiar with it, despite the proximity of our two countries.

In case you don’t know, it’s pronounced “Neev” or “Nee-av”, either is perfectly acceptable. The prefix Ní means “daughter of”. My surname is trickier, and has even tripped up a few Irish people; it can be translated as Herbert, and is pronounced “her-a-vard”.

When I was living in London, I quickly learned that saying Niamh at the counter in a coffee shop or over the phone to make a booking simply wouldn’t fly. This led to the invention of what I call my “Starbucks name”. Anything easily pronounceable with a simple spelling would do. Mia, Sophie and Rose were among my common aliases.

Speaking to others reveals a litany of similar experiences. Aoibhe Ní Shúilleabháin, a designer and teacher, spent two years at college in England having her name mispronounced and disrespected. (Her first name is pronounced “Ay-vah”.) More than one lecturer resorted to calling her “blondie”.

She tells me: “I was asked to say, ‘Three hundred and thirty three trees’” – a tongue-twister that does the rounds on TikTok – “more often than I was asked to repeat my name.” She recalls the lack of interest when she attempted to explain that Irish and English are different languages with different pronunciation rules.

Clearly, the sensitivities at play here are rooted in history: Ireland was colonised by the English and our national language was all but wiped out. A language revival began in earnest in the 19th century, but it’s never quite recovered. Ireland’s most recent census shows that about 40% of Ireland’s population can speak Irish. The English destroyed our language once before, so every little throwaway comment and scoff at our names hurts a little bit more – and ultimately becomes just tiresome. A handful of people even remark, “Oh! I didn’t know Ireland had its own language,” when I tell them about my name.

Writer Darach Ó Séaghdha is all too familiar with these difficulties. (The “rach” in Darach is pronounced like “Bach”, he says.)He hosted a podcast called Motherfoclóir, a podcast about the Irish language and culture, and whenever there were guests on with Irish names, “inevitably the episode would turn into group therapy”. There was one bad experience, he recalls, when he was told that his surname “looked like a wifi password”. But he decided to give his children Irish names, too. It’s a common trend, he says, “because parents with Irish names have been battle-hardened”.

Like the others I spoke to for this piece, writer and director Rioghnach (think “Ree-nock”)Ní Ghrioghair believes that a sense of superiority among English speakers is to blame for the constant mistreatment of Irish names. But she’s defiant. “We are going to scrutinise the British for any transgression regarding the pronunciation of our names,” and other things, she tells me, like British media claiming Irish actors as their own during awards seasons.

There is no easy crash-course I can give to you on the pronunciation of Irish names, but you can always try out “how to pronounce”-style websites (which themselves can be contested). But the simplest and most reliable solution is perhaps just to politely ask an Irish person – and listen attentively to what they say. I may have accepted that English people are very rarely going to get my name right on the first go, but I appreciate a well-intentioned effort. Just don’t laugh at it, please.

[olderthannetfic]

Now I'm wondering how countries like Japan and China teach literacy.

Since kanji / hanzi don't really have that much in the way of phonetic elements, they kinda have to teach them by memorization and I don't think they have many reading comprehension problems over there.

(Although both countries do have supplementary phonetic writing systems in the form of bopomofo and pinyin for China, and the kanas for Japan)

--

FAVORITE SOAPBOX TOPIC UNLOCKED!

RELEASE THE KRAKEN!

It's a little closer to teaching vocabulary than spelling, but the same kinds of principles apply: You teach the building blocks, like the traditional radicals, which aren't so different from teaching Latin and Greek roots in an English class for English speakers.

And, as a matter of fact, lots of those radicals do predict pronunciation, just not in every single case. They can also be clues to meaning, but again, not absolutely consistently. Many characters have a sound-cueing radical on one side and a meaning-cueing radical on the other. It's just that only some are still useful in the modern day, while others are more like the English word 'plumbing' where knowledge of Roman lead pipes explains why this word comes from the one for lead, but the root probably wouldn't help a kid learn the word in the first place.

One similarity to teaching phonics would be teaching students to tell very complicated and similar characters apart: you want to help a student spot all the little building blocks of the character and then spot the ones that are different, not just glance at the whole character and get a general overall vibe. If you do a whole look-based approach, too many characters are too easy to mistake for one another.

Remembering a bajillion Chinese characters is hard if you're trying to memorize them in a year and not all of elementary school, but I think people who don't read them underestimate how many component parts there are and how approachable they can be if you start by learning fundamentals, not just memorizing a few individual characters as though they have no relation to anything else.

They're actually pretty systematic, just in the way that English spelling is with its overlapping systems and historical artifacts, not in the way that highly regular Spanish spelling is.

Having taken a lot of Japanese classes, I will say that Japanese as a foreign language textbooks often do a piss poor job of this and totally do teach kanji in a sight words-y way... But my Mandarin class started with important foundational concepts that served me well in Japanese later even if I bombed out of Chinese class at the time.

Can you tell how irritated I am by all the foreign language learners who think characters are sooooo hard when, really, it's just their crappy textbook? Haha.

They're moderately hard in the way that learning a full adult spectrum of vocabulary is hard, but people do that for foreign languages all the time. The countries that use characters do tend to make sets that are smaller for certain kinds of applications, same as we have things like simple English wikipedia, but a literate adult will always know lots more, whether it's from their career in engineering or their predilection for historical romance novels.

Uh... anyway, the answer is "Bit by bit in elementary school, just like in any other country".

[factsinallcaps]

I have to know-- what's ur opinion on this

LOOK, I'M JUST GOING TO, RIGHT HERE, ANSWER THE MANY, MANY "BUT COULD YOU PRONOUNCE THIS A CERTAIN WAY IF YOU PRONOUNCED ALL THE LETTERS DIFFERENT THAN THEY SHOULD BE PRONOUNCED" MESSAGES I'VE BEEN GETTING

THE ANSWER IS NO, YOU CANNOT TAKE LETTERS-AS-USED-IN-ONE-WORD AND TRANSPLANT THEM TO PLACES IN OTHER WORDS AND EXPECT THEM TO BEHAVE THE SAME. THE W IN "ANSWER" IS THE SAME W THAT'S IN "WALL." THE "H" IN "GHOST" IS THE SAME ONE THAT'S IN "HELP." "T" IN "LISTEN" IS THE SAME ONE THAT'S IN "TANK," AND THE EXTRA "A" IN "AARDVARK" IS NO MORE SILENT THAN THE SECOND "O" IN "DOOR." TWO A'S IN A ROW MAKES A DIFFERENT SOUND THAN ONE A IN A ROW.

THE REALITY IS, IF YOU TOOK THOSE LETTERS OUT OF THOSE WORDS, AND PUT THEM TOGETHER AGAIN TO SPELL "WHAT," THEY WOULDN'T BE SILENT ANYMORE, BECAUSE THEIR PRONUNCIATION, OR LACK THEREOF, IS BASED ON THE CONTEXT OF WHERE THEY FALL IN THE WORD, AND WHAT THEIR ETYMOLOGY IS. IF YOU TOOK ALL THOSE LETTERS AND REASSEMBLED THEM INTO "WHAT," IT WOULD BE PRONOUNCED LIKE "WHAT."

A LOT OF PEOPLE KEEP ASKING THESE QUESTIONS BASED ON THE CONCEPT OF WHETHER IT'S "VALID" TO PRONOUNCE CERTAIN LETTERS SPECIFIC WAYS, BASED ON THE FACT THAT THEY'RE PRONOUNCED THAT WAY IN CERTAIN WORDS. UNFORTUNATELY FOR THEM, LETTERS HAVE NO INHERENT PRONUNCIATION WHATSOEVER. THEY'RE PRONOUNCED THE WAY WE PRONOUNCE THEM BECAUSE OF A COLLECTIVE AGREEMENT BY SPEAKERS OF ANY GIVEN LANGUAGE TO PRONOUNCE THE LETTERS USED IN THAT LANGUAGE'S ALPHABET IN MUTUALLY AGREED-UPON WAYS.

SOMETIMES THERE'S SPECIAL-USE CASES THAT COME FROM A WORD'S ROOT LANGUAGE-- FOR INSTANCE, "J" IS PRONOUNCED DIFFERENTLY IN SPANISH AND ENGLISH. THE WORD "FAJITA" EXISTS IN ENGLISH, AS IN ITS ORIGINAL SPANISH, AND THE J IS STILL PRONOUNCED THE SAME WAY AS IT WAS IN SPANISH

AND, CRUCIALLY, THERE IS ALREADY A MARGIN-OF-ERROR IN WHAT WE ALLOW RE: PRONUNCIATION. THIS IS HOW DIFFERENT DIALECTS AND ACCENTS FORM. MY APPALACHIAN COUSINS AND I UNDERSTAND THAT EVEN THOUGH I'M SAYING "WIN-DOH" AND THEY'RE SAYING "WIN-DER," WE'RE BOTH SAYING THE SAME WORD: "WINDOW," BECAUSE -OW AT THE END OF A WORD IS PRONOUNCED DIFFERENTLY IN MY ACCENT AND THEIRS. WHEN SOMEBODY WALKS UP TO ME AND SAYS "LET ME ASK YOU A QUESTION" BUT THEY PRONOUNCE IT LIKE "AXE," I KNOW WHAT WORD THEY'RE USING.

I'VE MET PEOPLE NAMED, FOR INSTANCE, ROXHINA AND UXHINE, PRONOUNCED IDENTICALLY TO THE ENGLISH NAMES "REGINA" AND "EUGENE," BECAUSE IN THEIR FAMILY'S LANGUAGE, THOSE LETTERS WERE PRONOUNCED DIFFERENTLY.

I HAVE ALSO SEEN PEOPLE SPELL THINGS INCORRECTLY, IF SERVICEABLY, IN WAYS THAT IT'S EASY TO LET SLIDE BECAUSE IT'S CLEAR THEY WERE GOOD-FAITH EFFORTS TO COMMUNICATE THE MEANING OF THE WORD-- FOR INSTANCE, IN A BAR I SOMETIMES WORK AT, THERE IS A BOX LABELED "CHAMPAIGN GLASSES." THAT'S NOT THE CORRECT SPELLING, BUT ANYBODY WHO KNOWS HOW TO PRONOUNCE THE WORD "CHAMPAGNE" IS GOING TO UNDERSTAND WHAT THE LABEL MEANS. THAT'S ALL LANGUAGE IS-- A GOOD-FAITH EFFORT TO CONVEY MEANING BASED ON A SHARED UNDERSTANDING OF WHAT WORDS MEAN AND HOW THEY ARE CONSTRUCTED.

ALL OF THIS WAS VERY EASY FOR ME TO ACCEPT! BUT IF SOMEONE FROM APPALACHIA, WHO SPEAKS THE SAME LANGUAGE AS ME, WROTE THE WORD "XHOWL" ON A PIECE OF PAPER AND EXPECTED ME TO UNDERSTAND THAT IT MEANT "GIRL," BECAUSE IN ALBANIAN "XH" IS PRONOUNCED "G" AND IN APPALACHIA "OW" IS SOMETIMES PRONOUNCED "ER," I WOULD NOT FEEL LIKE THEY HAD MADE A GOOD-FAITH EFFORT TO EFFECTIVELY COMMUNICATE THE WORD "GIRL."

SO MY ULTIMATE ANSWER HERE IS THAT I DISAPPROVE OF ATTEMPTS TO FIND ESOTERIC WAYS TO PRONOUNCE LETTERS OR SPELL WORDS THAT MAKES IT IMPOSSIBLE FOR SOMEONE TO MAKE THAT GOOD-FAITH EFFORT. WHETHER IT'S "YOU CAN SPELL FISH AS GHOTI, AS LONG AS YOU SAY ALL THE LETTERS WRONG," OR "YOU CAN PRONOUNCE 'WHAT' SILENTLY IF YOU DON'T SAY ANY OF THE LETTERS" I AM GENERALLY NOT IN FAVOR OF THESE FAKE-DEEP, DESPERATE-TO-BE-CLEVER ATTEMPTS AT SAYING "YOU KNOW, IF YOU DISRESPECT THE LISTENER AND/OR READER'S GOOD-FAITH EFFORT TO UNDERSTAND YOU BY MAKING AN INTENTIONAL EFFORT TO BE DIFFICULT TO UNDERSTAND, THEN ENGLISH HAS NO RULES!"

IF ANYONE IS INTENDING TO SEND ME A "WHAT ABOUT--" SORT OF MESSAGE TO THIS, REFER BACK TO THE BEGINNING OF THIS POST AND THEN KEEP READING UNTIL YOU DON'T SEND THAT MESSAGE.

TL;DR - ANYONE WHO SAYS SHIT LIKE THIS WAS ALREADY MOCKED IN THIS COMEDY SKETCH AND I ROUGHLY AGREE WITH MESSRS. FRY AND LAURIE

[yandere-kokeshi]

Can i request platonic yandere 141 x darling who has a speech impediment? When they go out and the waiter asks him what he wants he gets nervous and struggles, often goes mute etc. How would they feel if the darling asks them to talk for him?

Warnings: yandere behavior, feat of being made fun of, and Platonic fluffiness — NOTHING ROMANTIC

A/N: Even though you requested for male, there are no pronouns stated; hope you can still enjoy this <3. I had fun writing this!

To start, they don’t bat an eye nor care that you have a speech impediment. It’s just another thing to you, the same with scars or appearance. Of course, they do know that snide comments are expected, especially in public, but they’ve shown many times to be all respectful, and not having an ounce of frustration when it comes down to you.

With words and pronunciation, they know how difficult it can be. 

This said, whenever you are talking about something, and get stuck on a word — their eyes flicker at you, before one of them will give you a synonym that’s easier for you to pronounce. Letting you continue on with a second-thought. 

With their own ways of showing affection, it’s the same with helping you. Simon and Kyle are often the ones that try to let you do things on your own, but also step in if needed. As for Simon, he’s quieter when helping you, especially if you’re having trouble. A rough hand will grab yours, and he’ll avoid your gaze with silence, only giving you a small nudge to resume your story. Now, starting with another letter or giving yourself a short break to try once more. 

Gaz is more gentle, looking at you before guessing the word or filling it in with a description of the word; laughing when you nod frankly at his finishing. He also helps you through pronunciation, spelling it out with baby steps, and ensuring that you don’t feel embarrassed or bad for going slow. Everyone learns at their own pace, and their own way. 

As for Price and Johnny, both of them can be quite overbearing. They like to take advantage of you asking for help, which makes them talk through every interaction in public. 

Price is more prominent to jump in, spewing out what you were going to say — before looking at you with a questioning look when he notices that it annoys you. When you try to talk to him about it, he gently waves it off, saying that: “I was helping ya’ kiddo, no need to be embarrassed for asking for it. We know you like the back of my hand, yeah?” 

With Johnny, he has a tendency of guessing your words, spewing them out like a machine gun; which only frustrates you more. Towards the end, he gets it right. But it doesn’t mean it is incredibly annoying. 

When eating out all together, especially at a place that can be busy, all of them take patience really seriously; they know how mean people can be. So when eating at a restaurant, they let you talk until they read you can’t do it anymore; Soap actively making jokes to the waiter to ensure they’ll wait. 

But, when it comes down to the waiter, who's only giving you the ‘eye look’, or simply being impatient. Price or the others will step in and finish it for you, looking at you with a nod and a gentle smile.

Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking. It helps me as a creator!! Stay well!!

© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.

[luckyarchivist]

Ais helps Kuras in the clinic~

And I haven't been able to stop thinking about it for a while!! I was gonna write a fic but then I was like "Don't you have a Tumblr? Just make bullets lmao" so that's what I did and here's my HCs about Kuras and Ais in the clinic <3

Ais will just drop in on him sometimes. Like, no warning, Kuras will get back from picking up more laudanum or whatever he uses and Ais'll just be sitting on the counters, kicking his feet (but respectfully not letting his feet hit the lower cabinets).

He also never really gives a reason for being there. Always chalks his appearances up to boredom or loneliness. But then again, Kuras knows that for Ais, that's probably all the reason he needs.

They don't talk much while they're in the clinic together—just silently enjoy each other's company. Ais is also surprisingly good at organizing when he chooses to be, and Kuras has started putting away his supplies the same way Ais does subconsciously.

Ais does like to check in with Kuras to make sure people—and Monsters—haven't been harassing the clinic when he's not around. Kuras is perfectly capable of taking care of any problematic patients or unruly loiterers, but he appreciates the concern nonetheless.

When good patients visit the good doctor, Ais sometimes will play nurse: counting people's heartbeats, disinfecting minor wounds or injection sites, rewriting prescriptions so patients can actually read them. Regular patients recognize Ais, while occasional visitors have no idea who he is: both groups are a little scared of him, but also a little charmed by him.

When problems decide to show their faces, Ais acts as bodyguard instead. He certainly doesn't need an excuse to beat someone up, but he likes that helping out Kuras gives him one. Kuras always tells him to go easy on people, though, and Ais doesn't want to make more work for him, so he can't go all out unless someone's a real danger, instead of just a nuisance.

When Ais finishes beating somebody up, Kuras will take a moment before accepting another patient to inspect Ais for any injuries. Pressure is applied to cuts until the blood starts to coagulate. Kuras usually holds off on disinfecting or bandaging anything until Ais is about to take his leave, to make sure he doesn't immediately ruin Kuras's hard work.

On slow days, Ais will talk to Kuras in whatever language he's practicing or feeling like speaking. Kuras will converse back and, if he's feeling preachy (or like being a troll), correct Ais on his incorrect conjugations or lazy pronunciations. Ais keeps trying, but he has yet to find a language that he knows better than Kuras.

Just like his arrivals, there's no way to predict when Ais will leave. Sometimes he stays until the clinic closes; other times, he'll keep Kuras company for less than an hour. It all depends on his mood. For however long he chooses to hang around, Kuras tries to make sure Ais knows that he appreciates his presence.

And that's all my thoughts!! omg just rereading this checking for spelling mistakes i was like "i love them sm. i love them <3" in my head~

[sumerianlanguage]

Hi there! I’d like start with a thank you for taking the time and effort to help people who are interested in all things Sumerian learn! :D I’m not sure if this has been asked before, but what were the names given for the months of the year by the Sumerians? I’m curious as to how a lyric from a song like "Do you remember the 21st night of September" would translate into Sumerian

Hello, and thanks for the kind words!

The Sumerians used a system of twelve or thirteen lunisolar months, similar to other lunisolar calendars like the Hebrew calendar. (In fact, many Hebrew-calendar months derive their names from the Babylonian calendar, a later standardization of the Sumerian calendar months.) In most periods, the months started with the first visible crescent moon (right after the new moon) closest to the spring equinox; months could be anywhere from 28 to 30 days long, depending on when the next new crescent moon was sighted. The months would be:

Barazagngar 𒌚𒁈𒍠𒃻 (~March-April) Ezemgusisu 𒌚𒂡𒄞𒋛𒋢 (~April-May) Sigushubbangar 𒌚𒋞𒄷𒋛𒊒𒁀𒃻 (~May-June) Shunumun 𒌚𒋗𒆰 (~June-July) Neizingar 𒌚𒉈𒉈𒃻 (~July-August) KinInanna 𒌚𒆥𒀭𒈹 (~August-September) Duku 𒌚𒇯𒆬 (~September-October) Apindua 𒌚𒄑𒀳𒂃𒀀 (~October-November) Gan'gane 𒌚𒃶𒃶𒌓𒁺 (~November-December) Abe 𒌚𒀊𒌓𒁺 (~December-January) Ziza 𒌚𒍩𒀀 (~January-February) Shekinku 𒌚𒊺𒆥𒋻 (~February-March) Dirishekinku 𒌚𒋛𒀀𒊺𒆥𒋻 was the intercalary month, only included in some years, to keep the lunar months in line with the annual solar cycle

Note that each month had any of a wide variety of variant spellings, and the system above was pretty unstandardized until the later Babylonian era. The initial 𒌚 sign is the determiner for months and is unpronounced.

I'm having some trouble finding a consistent pattern for "on the #th day of [month name]", but the general way to say "on the #th day of the month" is ituda ud #(-kam), literally "in the month its #th day". Assuming we can slot in a month name, say Duku (the most likely month for late September to fall in), alongside ngi "night" and nishdish (my best guess for "21", whose pronunciation we don't know), then Dukua ngi nishdishakam would be "The 21st night of Duku".

Using one of the words for "remember", pad, you could say Zae Dukua ngi nishdishakam ibpaden? "Are you remembering [what happened] on the 21st night of Duku?" Though note that this would almost never correspond to our own September 21, for which you'd have to calculate the exact date for each year; I think for 2024 it'd be the 18th of Duku based on my quick counting, but it could fall anywhere from the end of KinInanna to the start of Apindua. I hope that's helpful!

[angstylittleb1tch]

Who am I, to you? (Aether x creator!reader)

Summary: It is an imposter sagau universe where creator!reader escapes from her acolytes to the far corners of Sumeru and decides to start a flower shop but an unexpected guest comes for a visit...

Note: This is my very First Fic EVER. I do admit I'm no master at writing but I'm trying to learn and am open to criticism so please don't hesitate to correct me in my pronunciation, grammar, spelling or knowledge on any mentioned topic. Thanks!

Warnings: Yandere? (If you squint), mentions of swords, vines used as binding equipment (not bdsm you lil shits)

Pt 2

The sky today was just as beautiful as it was every day. Granted it never really changed due to teyvat basically just being zero's and one's but no one but you knew about that so better not to mention it.

Previous to your 'decent' into teyvat, you were just like any other gacha gamer who stumbled upon Genshin by accident and became addicted to it in a short span of time. Naturally, that had let you to explore more about this fandom which had eventually landed you to the sagau corner of Genshin fanfics which is why being teleported or rather isekai'd to teyvat wasn't a very shocking experience.

However, you weren't just going to walk into Mondstadt like the other fanfics, no. You were much calmer and more grounded not to mention clever. Never once were the acolytes alerted of your presence in teyvat as you slowly over the span of a few months made your way to Sumeru, making sure to stay hidden for days on end and to take all the longer but less active routes.

In your first week in Sumeru, you had found out that the traveler had yet to cross paths with the dendro archon and was still in Inazuma, so you had a general idea of where in the timeline you were.

Since you had no family or even proof of birth or existence in teyvat, finding a job was increasingly difficult along with keeping your identity hidden. However, as if you were blessed by some all-knowing power, higher than gods, you encountered an old yet very kind lady who allowed you to live with her at the outskirts of Sumeru so long as you helped her run her little flower shop.

Months passed in the blink of an eye, and you found yourself growing soft towards the lady you grew to see as your own grandmother. She insisted you call her that and you happily obliged. Your trust and love towards her grew so much so that eventually you decided to tell her the truth about your origins and status of creator in this world.

Though shocked at first, she never treated you any differently than before, and appeared to be more understanding of your situation. Both of you lived your life in happiness, away from the world. However due to being cut off from the world you were late to know that the traveler had successfully taken care of the Shouki no Kami and saved Sumeru from the scheming Akademiya.

Neither did you have any idea about how frivolously Aether had been turning teyvat upside down trying to look for you.

Unlike the other acolytes, Aether held a deeper connection with you, the creator. He was the first one you guided and the first to get to know your aura. There was absolutely no way he wouldn't find out about your arrival to teyvat. It was honestly better the others didn't. Imagine if everyone knew the creator was just walking amongst the common folk. That would certainly cause a panic amongst everyone.

He had to find you before the others did. He had to know. He had to see your face in person. One he had seen through the illusion of the sky way too many times before. One he had grown to love.

Yes, Aether was indeed in love with you. He had fallen not too long ago but he had fallen far. How couldn't he? You were just perfect in every way conceivable. Your eyes? Absolutely beautiful, he could have one glance and an eternity would have passed for him. Your smile? Mesmerizing. Oh, what he wouldn't give just to see a glimpse of it. He was sure he'd slay even the mightiest of gods, even Celestia, if it meant he'd be rewarded with one of your smiles.

It was entirely safe to say that when he'd gotten wind that there was a flower shop located at the ends of Sumeru said to house flowers no one had ever seen before, he was beyond intrigued. Especially since some poor soul he saw in Sumeru city had the same flower his sister always wore in her hair just laying around, claiming he bought it from your shop.

Now he just had to figure out what kind of a person would sell such a rare and practically impossible flower to get your hands on so freely. So, without thought, he soon found himself Infront of your little flower shop in the middle of nowhere with his eyes set straight at the door.

He could definitely feel your presence, it was everywhere. The plants, the flowers, the animals and even the air itself felt.... purified. It had to be your work. There was no doubt about it. Even Paimon didn't say a word for once in her life. She was too curious and perhaps a little uneasy at what kind of a deity she was to face now.

Unlike Paimon however, Aether could barely contain himself enough to stand. After a while of trying to gather courage to step in, he finally opened the door and was greeted by a view equivalent to the Fields of Elysium.

The sun rays fell through the windows lighting up the place, vast arrays of flowers were laid bare anywhere the eye could reach, wisteria flowers were hung from the ceiling as if they were growing from the skies above.

Never once before had Aether truly felt at home anywhere before more than here.

"I'll be there in just a second!" A sweet voice called out to him breaking him from his trance. It was you; you were talking to him. Addressing him. Before he could fully fathom what was to happen, you came out from the back of the store finally giving him a full view of your face.

"Hello there, how can I be of help today?" You greeted him.

Despite keeping up your calm, aloof and cheerful persona, you were panicking inside. Never once did you think you would meet him today. Him. Aether. Of course, you knew who he was. If his bright blonde hair wasn't a dead giveaway, then the floating ball of joy next to him definitely shouted out his identity to you.

You wanted to shout, to scream, to go up and crush Aether in a bone wrenching hug. You wanted to tell him how sorry you were for not being able to help him on his journey to find his sister. You wanted to hold him and take all his pain away. You wanted to tell him that you would be there for him.

That you Loved him. That you Love him.

Alas you couldn't, because there was no way in the entirety of teyvat that he would be able to let a stranger do that.

That's all you were to him of course. He didn't know you. There was no way he would. No one knew who you were, otherwise, you wouldn't be alive in this shop right now.

"Uhm hello?" You asked him, finally getting out of your own thoughts and noticing that he had been silent the whole time.

As if something snapped by your words, Aether finally came to his senses and responded,

"Ah! Yes! Oh, hi hello ahem I'm totally not staring."

You chuckled at his nervousness. "Never said you were."

If Aether's cheeks and ears weren't red earlier, they definitely were now. Your laugh was so pretty. He could never get enough of it.

"So, are you looking for any specific flowers? We have tons of variety; some I can assure you've never seen before! If you need, I can recommend you if you're buying for a specific occasion or I could just show you some general-" You smiled as you talked on and rambled about the flowers and Aether wasn't even sure if he was listening.

You looked absolutely ethereal, and Aether was so sure he was in heaven right now or somewhere close to it because archons were you beautiful. Even the Archon of Love would be jealous of your allure.

It's as if you were an enchantress, and in all honestly Aether wouldn't mind if you were, all because of the look you were giving him right now. He was already in cloud 9.

"-and so, I would definitely recommend the peonies. Hey? Are you even listening?"

"Hmm? Oh! Yes of course, Peonies, right? I'll take a bouquet."

"Alright just a moment, by the way, you never told me how you got here? I mean this place is pretty off the map, quite hard to stumble by it."

You knew exactly what you were doing, there was no way Aether just stumbled upon your shop out of nowhere. It was too out of character for him. Was there a reason he came here? Did he know?

"Oh, uhm I was uh recommended! Yes, I saw another traveler I came across in Sumeru own a rather unique flower, so I asked him where he got it, and he told me it was from your shop so here I am."

"I see, what flower was it? If you liked it so much, I could give you a few, consider it on the house."

"Are you sure? It's completely fine, I'll pay for them."

"No, it's alright, you can have them for free, don't worry about it. So which one was it?"

"Ahem, well it's the 'Inteyvat'"

"Oh. That flower.... I see you have an eye for flowers huh."

"Not really, it just... holds sentimental value. How about you, how'd you come across it?"

"Ah well you see, the seeds were given to me by my grandma, i suppose it's a family heirloom."

Both of you knew that neither of you told the entire truth however addressing it would cause a LOT of explanation, one you just weren't ready for, not before your coffee at least.

"So, what did you say your name was again?"

"Why? Are you trying to take me out on a date?"

"Would you say yes if I were?"

"Paimon will pay for the food!"

I guess everyone's a little bold today.

"I'm sorry did I hear that right? You? Paimon? The one who has less mora than Zhongli? Will pay for my date? That is only possible if we're going on a date in my dreams."

"WHY YOU-! Fine! Paimon won't be paying for your food then since you're such a big meanie to Paimon. And excuse you- Paimon isn't broke ok! Infact Paimon is richer than the traveler!"

"Paimon, how many times have I told you, those 'primogems' of yours are not actual currency."

"AGH-! Paimon's had it with you today! First you make Paimon fly the whole way here without telling why and now you're making fun of Paimon! That's it, Paimon is going to tattle to xiangling about how you actually threw away the Black-Back Perch Stew she made for you and only pretended to eat it because you were so full from Sara's cooking!"

You watched stifling your giggles as Aether's Face dropped into a terrified expression.

"NO! I'm sorry Paimon, please don't tell xiangling about that, she will murder me if she finds out. You don't want me dying.... do you?"

"Hmph"

"Please Paimon I'm begging you I don't want to die so young! I'll never make fun of you again! I'll even stop calling you emergency food so please! Anything but xiangling's wrath...."

You just couldn't hold it in anymore. If anything, Aether's pleading added to your amusement, and you burst in a fit of laughs.

Aether had almost forgotten you were here. His gaze turned to you and a smile creeped up his face which soon turned into and embarrassed look as he realized you had front row seats to his predicament.

"Hey! It's not that funny y/n! I'm serious! Stop making fun of me- Oh just great now Paimon's laughing too!" Though Aether was seeming to be embarrassed he was happy he could make you laugh like that.

That was until your smile disappeared from your face as you registered what he said.

"I never told you my name."

Both Aether and Paimon looked at each other as the atmosphere took a turn for the worse. There was no humor in your voice and your face looked cold, completely contradicting your laughs and smiles earlier.

"I- Please let me expla-"

Just as Aether took a single step in your direction vines sprung at him, securing him in his place as they wrapped around him. Paimon tried to pry them off but to no avail. He looked back up towards you but all he saw was a pure black sword pointing at his throat and a dark look in your eyes.

"Who am I, to you."

Well, that went well. I think? I'm still trying to figure out how I want to end this fic but I'm not completely clueless. I will be making a nice lil happy ending though. Anyways if you have any suggestions on how you want this fic to end then I'm open to them. Gosh Writing is hard, my respect for authors just skyrocketed.

Also, just a reminder that THIS IS MY FIRST FIC so please be nice and generous in your criticism otherwise if you don't like it them you can fuck skedaddle right off, Thank you very much.

Anyways, I'm gonna go sleep now It's like 2 am rn and I have to go on a trip in like a day so yeah, until I decide to post the next part fellow beings.

Signing off.

Also, PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT IM BEGGING YOU I NEED TO KNOW IF THIS WORK IS EQIVALENT OF SHIT OR IF ITS ACTUALLY DECENT.

[liliesof-the-valley]

How do you say…

They react to the fact you can speak another language. So sorry if this isn’t really accurate or that good, I just had the idea and seemingly needed to write it down! Other brothers will come later, in order. As well as side characters!

─── ୨ৎ────

Lucifer

Lucifer already knew that you could speak another language , considering he had gone through your files when he was selecting you as an exchange student.

Though he didn’t exactly pay this information any attention, that is until he heard you speaking this language. The first time he heard the words coming from your lips he was quite stunned. What did you say?

Nonetheless, he is quite amazed at the fact you can speak another language and if you can speak multiple, his pride in you just skyrockets.

In my opinion, he would most likely be able to speak a multitude of other languages, hell, there’s probably a spell to understand and speak different languages in the devildom.

Yet you, someone who has learnt and understood a different language and did so without any form of magic— more likely just hours of memorising grammar rules, pronunciation and translation, isn’t it obvious that he’s going to show you off?

At parties hosted by Diavolo, occasionally you can hear your name uttered by lucifer, a grin on his face—undoubtedly he is boasting about you.

He also does love to hear you speak it, how the pronunciation rolls off your tongue, how you annunciate the vowels, anything really about it.

What stunned you however , is how one day whilst you were watching a series in said language lucifer appeared and sat on the couch next to you. Then he began to speak and that’s when your emotions turned into a mix of stunned and impressed.

If your ears didn’t deceive you, you heard lucifer speaking in your language, fluently it seemed. ‘What are you watching?’ Was uttered , a soft chuckle following afterwards at the sight of your raised eyebrows and confused expression.

Afterward, he explains how it was just a temporary spell he used to speak the language for a period of time. Once he asked you to teach him some of your language and he got the hang of it almost instantly.

Mammon

The way mammon found out is when you were stuck on dinner duty and he was helping , you had needed to ask him to pass something when the word couldn’t translate into English in your head.

‘Whatcha need me to get then?’ He asks, heading to the kitchen cabinets

‘The, uh, the thingy’

‘What’d ya mean the ‘thingy’?’

‘You know…the thing that’s used to season stuff’

‘You’re gonna need to be more specific... There’s about twenty-somethin’ things that could be that ‘thingy’’

‘Get me the chili flakes’ you say, though ‘chili flakes’ is said in your language. He looks back at you, even more confused. Finally, you give up and head to the cabinets pulling out the chili flakes.

‘Yo, that’s not what they’re called , is it?’

And then the realisation that you were speaking in a different language set in but he was still a little confused ‘why’d ya say it in a different language if you don’t speak another…YA SPEAK ANOTHER LANGUAGE?’

I mean, I feel like pride is one of the things that all the brothers would feel when learning this piece of info. Mammon is very much enjoying the fact that you, his human was fluent in a different language , by Lord Diavolo he was absolutely thrilled. Could he somehow market this , let’s see… translator maybe? Well, then he realised he’d have to share your ability with the world and hid din takes over. No one’s gonna hear you speak this other language other than him, ya hear?

Though, his efforts to hide this from his brothers are all ruined when he accidentally spills it whilst in conversation over the dinner you’d just made. Actually, it wasn’t like you were keeping this a secret, mammon was but well, that didn’t go as he planned.

Needless to say he is very excited to hear you speak it,finding your pronunciation and you in general ‘decent enough’ (he means incredibly attractive) and frequently asks questions like

‘How do you say lucifer needs to gimme more money for allowance?’ Or ‘how’d ya say *insert swear word/profanity*’

I also feel like he’d be the type of person to ask ‘how do you say my name in your langauge’ as if it wouldn’t be the same 😭😭

He had had a case in which when he was mad / irritated at one of his brothers he swore at them only in said language and after he was done cussing them out, burst your door open and with his hands on his hips and a devious grin on his face.

‘What did you do?’ Is the first thing uttered from your lips when you saw him

[grey-sorcery]

Suggested Reading

Threshold Theory Energy Work Fundamentals The Subtle Body Spell Design Spell Dictation Sigils: How-to Intro to Gnosis Anchors

What is a Spell Circle?

Spell circles, while they aren’t necessary, are a tool that is used as a focal point for a working. They are also very helpful in aiding in headspace via the implementation of aesthetics. Spell circles are technically hypersigils, or a complex sigil that is typically constructed of multiple sigils in tandem. They are typically constructed of three parts: Incantations, foundations, and root sigils. They are used in a ritual format, typically with each practitioner having a standardized approach to using them for spell work. 

How do they work?

A spell circle is similar to a sigil in the way that there is an incorporation of intention, energy, passion, and focus in their creation. Spell circles operate most effectively within the energetic model or something adjacent. The psychological model will be entirely ineffective; at least as I have prescribed their creation in this article. They often contain sigils as well as some other elements that serve to connect the circle to the overall working. These elements include incantations, words, phrases, symbology, geometric/organic designs, numerology, etc. 

Incantations, words, or phrases can be said out loud as part of the working (provided that doing so doesn’t break gnosis), or written out and burned into ash and incorporated into the working through that process. Though they can also be incorporated in other ways as well. As an example, you could write a song and record it and have the tablature or staff wrapped around the perimeter of the spell circle. You could then listen to the song while casting your spell using it as a centerpoint of your gnosis.

The other elements of a spell circle are used to enhance the threshold of the root sigil or purpose. Each additional element adds a node, or correspondence, to the threshold of the spell. Doing so helps refine the accuracy and potency of the working. 

Designing a Spell Circle

If you have experience working with sigils, then designing a spell circle can be pretty easy. I highly recommend using programs like procreate to make these, or drafting tools! Freehanding them can be quite difficult without any experience with technical drawing. I use my tablet to draw them digitally and then trace them onto a burnable substrate such as paper.

Incantation(s)

An incantation is a phrase that is said that astutely states the intent of the spell. It is important to have this memorized, if you use them. Without having them memorized, using them will pull you out of gnosis by disturbing your focus. Incantations are like the thread that binds the spell circle to the rest of the working, especially if you use other tools, sigils, etc. When I construct my spell circles, I use the pronunciation of my sigils as the incantation, which are all aspects of a conlang that I developed. This can be seen as a sigil chain. So long as the incantation is written somewhere on or near the circle, then it is capable of being connected to the burning of those sigils via the incantation. I find that having the incantation encircle the root sigil is the most aesthetically pleasing for me. 

Root Sigil

This is a sigil that is at the core of the circle. It should represent the base goal of the spell. This sigil is connected to the rest of the circle via the Foundation(s). Like all sigils, it is important that it is drawn while channeling its meaning through your mental state, emotions, and subtle body to be most effective.To create them, I will draw the enclosing circle first before drawing a grid within it. This grid is then used to ensure that the root sigil is centered and scaled appropriately. The sigil is always the first part that I draw. Here are a few examples of sigils I have used for spell circles:

Foundation(s)

Foundations are simple designs that each have their own correspondences. Some foundations use numerology to derive their meaning, others are given their meanings based on how they interact with the root. The foundation(s) used should also align with the purpose of the spell; but more specifically, to describe the means of manifestation of the spell to some degree. They can also be used to expand the context of the root sigil, ex. Whether it is intended to be a blessing or curse. I am always sure that when I draw them in the grid, that they appear to be a part of the sigil, yet also behind it by having the lines stop and continue any shapes that are a part of the sigil, like circles, triangles, and squares. Here are a few foundations that I use:

Associative Symbology

These symbols are things I don't really implement in spell circles myself, but include things such as astrological symbols, alchemical symbols, magical alphabets, color, and imagery. These symbols are typically incorporated in equal distribution around the circle in radial fashion, but can also be used in other configurations. The number of symbols can be implemented with numerology in mind as well. Colored line-work can also be used to further the correspondences. Imagery such as pictographs can also be used, following similar implementation as other symbols. 

Applications

Spell Circles can be used for all sorts of workings, typically in a ritualistic fashion. However, they may also be used as passive sigils, meaning that they are placed and affect a specified space gradually over time. If they are used in this fashion, they will need to be revisited and charged periodically. When using a spell circle in a ritual, place them underneath the central spell elements such as cauldrons, candles, bowls, etc. Please use discernment. Fire safety is of the utmost importance. Once the spell is in motion, use the incantation that connects the circle to the working. I highly recommend rehearsing your incantation until it is memorized so that your spell’s effectiveness isn’t hindered. I highly recommend placing a spell anchor onto your spell circle as well so that there is a direct medium holding it. This way the spell can be recharged, broken, or altered as necessary.

Ritual Closing & Disposal

As part of closing any working, it is important to close off all energy that is connected to the working other than the anchor. Part of this is disposing of the spell circle in a responsible manner. This can be through responsibly burning it and burning the ashes, burying the spell circle itself (Provided it is on a biodegradable medium), soaking it in water to dissolve the ink and then cleansing the medium, or if it is drawn on a dry-erase board you can just erase it and cleanse it. When burying the ashes of your working, try to use your discretion as to which direction it is buried relative to your sleeping place or place of casting. 

Identifying a Spell Circle

A few popular designs for spell circles have been misidentified in the past, specifically those of John Dee, who was a prolific cryptographer. These designs have a lot of the hallmarks of spell circles; however, they are enclosed with 72 latin letters, which don’t have any magical or mystical correspondences, but are very common in encryption wheels, and then are encoded through biblical reference. The influence his work had was very substantial in the development of spell circles and their design. While his encryption circles can be used for magic, like any other design drawn through intention, passion, and gnosis, it is obvious that it was not intended as such given the historical context of his life. 

Interested in my other articles? You can find my masterpost here.

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[journey-to-the-attic]

3rd anni req 18: [DDVD] lucifer / lost child

ao3 link

note: reminder: zhao calls ik "a-ke", and i also realised while writing this - in jtta, she's called ik because it's like an anglicised pronunciation of her birth name, but in ddvd they never move to england... i've thus decided that in this au, ik got her nickname from mammon right at the start of the year. that or they all speak chinese and ik is how i, as author, have transliterated her birth name. anyway, this takes place early on in the exchange year

∎ ∎ ∎ ∎ ∎

“Zhao’s upset,” is the first and only thing Satan has said to Lucifer today.

He’ll let his little brother off the hook for being rude, even if only just this once - what he wants to know is what Satan expects him to do about it. Lucifer is a student council officer, not a school therapist, and it is not his responsibility to deal with sad pupils. Even if they live under his roof.

Though it turns out that ‘sad’ is not the correct word for whatever emotional wringer Zhaoxi is currently putting himself through. Lucifer runs into him at the end of the same corridor he’s just passed Satan in, and he looks as if he hasn’t slept in weeks. Somehow there are shadows under his eyes that weren't there this morning.

He isn’t an expert, by any means - he's only consulted a few textbooks, and since the start of the exchange program most of his human research has been about the tiny ones - but that’s definitely not normal. Surely one school day can’t be that taxing.

“Ahem,” He says loudly as Zhaoxi powers past him with barely a glance in his direction. “Is something wrong?”

Zhaoxi pauses, mutters something very quickly that he doesn’t understand, then turns to run off again. Lucifer catches him by the shoulder before he can disappear around the corner.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, more insistently this time. “There are club meetings going on. You’re going to cause a disturbance.”

He mumbles a half-hearted apology and takes off his glasses, as if he doesn’t want to look at him in too much detail. “I can’t find A-Ke.”

“You lost her?” Who misplaces an entire child?

“She learnt how to open the door,” Zhaoxi says a little miserably. “And A-Ke is very quiet. I didn’t realise she left the room.”

Privately, Lucifer can’t fathom how she even reached the handle. He sighs. “...very well. I’ll help you search. We can’t have children running wild around the school.”

Zhaoxi blinks, then abruptly shoves his glasses back on. Behind them, his eyes are possibly the brightest thing Lucifer has ever seen. “You will?!”

No one else has even offered? He thinks, and makes a note to perhaps suggest to Diavolo that they remind the student body of the concept of compassion. (He has a feeling it wouldn’t be very welcomingly received, though.)

“I know most of the popular hiding spots,” He says. “In the meantime, you should consult someone from the Newspaper Club. They tend to know what’s happening around the school before even the demon it’s happening to.”

“You aren’t busy?” Zhaoxi asks anxiously.

“I'm only doing routine checks.” He glances at his half-complete inventory sheet, then sends the clipboard away with quick spell. “It can wait. The school won’t explode if I miss one day.”

He gives him directions to the Newspaper Club’s usual classroom, and Zhaoxi thanks him with what was probably supposed to be a earnest handshake, but delivered with such little force that it felt more like he was just having his hand held. Lucifer pauses to think about that for a moment, then very abruptly turns on his heel and makes for the library.

Zhaoxi’s daughter is not hiding in any of the gaps between the bookshelves, nor is she under any of the tables. Lucifer thinks about checking the canteen next, then finally realises just how gargantuan this task really is.

Yes, he knows the common hiding spots - of full-grown demons. Human children have far more options.

He heaves a sigh and drags a hand down his face. This is exactly the sort of situation he’d predicted, back at the start of the exchange year. The whole scene is practically seared into his memory…

He’d stood up just as the summoning spell ran its course, leaving the new arrival shivering in the middle of the circle. Diavolo had stepped forward with widespread arms. “Welcome to the Devildom! You— oh, that’s a baby.”

Satan had promptly dropped behind the table with a silent cackle. After a moment, Zhaoxi, trembling as if standing out in a blizzard, said in a tiny voice, “She’s three soon.”

Lucifer had gone through the full rehearsed explanation, trying very hard to ignore the tiny thing with giant eyes watching him intently throughout. And he’d succeeded in hiding just how perturbed he was - up until everyone else had left the council room.

“We need to talk about that exchange student,” He’d told Diavolo sternly.

“Zhaoxi? I thought he was quite pleasant. I’m sure he’ll settle in just fine.”

“Were you paying any attention? He looked as if you had a sword to his throat. He has a child. How do you expect him to cope?”

“We’ll figure something out,” Diavolo had said without dropping his smile in the slightest. “Human children are fascinating, aren’t they?”

“It’s miniscule.”

“Don’t be rude, Lucifer. Besides, we’ve welcomed him already - it hardly seems right to send him away now.”

“The child is barely bigger than your head.” It was hard to stop thinking about. He didn’t think something the same shape as a demon could get that small.

“Come now, that’s exaggerating. Besides, she’ll grow! Eventually… I think.”

It would be convenient if she could grow up NOW, Lucifer thinks now, aggravated, poking his head into a fifteenth classroom and beginning to wish he’d just taken a different corridor an hour ago. But a job taken is a job to be done, and he is nothing if not thorough. Onto the next.

…anyway, it’d reflect poorly on him - and the council as a whole - if the situation wasn’t resolved. He continues, apparently with enough grim focus on his face that the usual suspects don’t even attempt to bother him.

He’s on the verge of actually calling Solomon for help - banking on some kind of human-human sixth sense that only sorcerers can tap into, which he’s about half-sure could exist. He’s thinking so hard about how much he doesn’t want to resort to that he almost misses his breakthrough.

Thunk, thunk, thunk. The sound is incessant, but quiet enough that anyone making any noise in the corridor wouldn’t be able to hear it. He hovers on the spot for a moment, listening intently, then follows the sound around the corner, to one of the Potions supply rooms.

Thunk, thunk— thunk! It speeds up as he approaches the door - hearing his footsteps, perhaps. ThunkthunkthunkthunkthunkthUNKTHUNKTHUNK!

He sees what’s happened here. All of the supply rooms lock as soon as they’re closed, for security reasons - only the faculty and certain senior students know the charm to open them. If someone were to toddle in after some irresponsible demon had left the door ajar, only for their movement to make it close, they’d be trapped inside.

With a deep sigh, he presses his hand to the metal plate where a doorknob would usually be, and mutters an incantation. The door swings open.

There’s a brief silence. Then IK zooms out of the door, and very determinedly latches onto his leg.

“Wh—” He stiffens, then does his best impression of a tree. “...hey. I’m not your father.”

IK doesn’t respond. If anything, her grip tightens.

“Oi.” He lifts his leg. No dice. IK clutches on, crushing the fabric of his trousers (he just ironed them yesterday) in her tiny fists. He quickly returns his foot to the ground, a little worried about the integrity of his belt.

He knows better than to do so, but asks anyway, “Have you been in there this whole time?”

IK, of course, does not reply. IK does not speak to anyone apart from her father. (Either that, or Zhaoxi is capable of producing that tiny voice, and only does so when he's alone.)

Lucifer attempts to take a step. IK doesn’t let go, but she closes her eyes tight and allows herself to be dragged along. Her grip is surprisingly fierce - if only his brothers approached their duties with the same dedication.

He makes it about halfway down the corridor when he finally decides that, even for him, this is a bit too callous. The little human’s face is beginning to darken with the strain of holding on so tight.

“...alright.” He comes to a halt. “Don’t expect this to become a regular thing. Come here.”

He bends down and extends his hands. After a moment, IK opens her eyes and blinks at him owlishly.

“You know how to do this, don’t you?” He asks, and makes an effort to offer a friendly smile.

Somehow, it works. After another long moment, IK unwinds her arms, then reaches up for him.

…it feels more like he’s picking up a particularly robust toy than a living thing. Like when he has to clean up Levi’s room (because no one wants to do the chores around here, and it’s a bad sign when his floor isn’t visible under all the debris), and he has to move one of those branded plushies that he spends far too much Grimm on.

“This is why you shouldn’t go wandering around on your own,” He says sternly as he continues on his way down the hall. “You’re lucky I heard you, or you might have been stuck in there all night. Is that what you want?”

IK hums - which is the most sound she ever makes in his presence - and taps idly at his school badge. He lets her, hoping silently that he’ll run back into Zhaoxi soon. If only he hadn’t left his phone in the council room.

“You are two.” He decides to continue as he walks. “That is too young to be going off on your own business. And the R.A.D. is dangerous - some demon might see you as a very convenient snack. Next time, tell someone, and they can accompany you, and don’t worry your father like that again...”

It’s unusual to have such someone listen to one of his lectures without interrupting. He’s almost enjoying himself. He wonders how many words IK knows.

“You’re supposed to be engaging in play behaviours at this age,” He says aloud, thinking of the most recent book he consulted. “Asking questions. Learning to count. What do you even do with your free time? I can’t imagine your hands are large enough to play with anything down here.”

IK is two and does not know how to respond, if she’s even listening. She leans back a little, peers curiously up into his face - then reaches up and attempts to stick her hand in his mouth.

“Pf—” He jerks backwards, then pushes it away with a firm, “No, we don’t do that. That’s rude.”

IK tilts her head at him, then makes a grab for his nose instead. When Lucifer ducks away again, she quickly shoots for his exposed left ear. He expects himself to get angry, but he just ends up begrudgingly engaging in the game.

This is new. IK is an oddly serious two-year-old, and so far Lucifer has only seen her willingly play with Simeon.

Which is am improvement, perhaps - Simeon is a good-natured angel, and he’s always had a way with the younger fledglings. Lucifer, on the other hand, has a scary resting face and an even scarier frown, and has made more than one grown demon cry without even really trying to. He's almost proud of the step-up in bravery.

Hmm. This human has very different developmental milestones to the ones he’s read about.

It doesn’t weigh on his mind for long - soon after that, Lucifer finds Zhaoxi standing helplessly outside an empty classroom (apparently he hadn’t even found the Newspaper Club), and hands IK off to her father, reminding him to be more vigilant next time. Then he walks them home, retreats to his office, and soon the ordeal leaves his mind entirely.

And that could have been the end of that, but it is not. The next morning, Lucifer walks into the dining room, and is promptly met by unsteady footsteps, then the already-familiar weight of something crashing into and clinging to his leg.

“Hello,” He says, and is too tired to put up any fight. He leans down and allows IK to practically clamber up into his arms. At the table, Zhaoxi freezes mid-apology.

The room falls dead silent. Levi and Mammon look at him, then each other, then him again.

Satan regards him with what can only be described as revulsion. A piece of food slides off Beel’s suspended fork.

“...hi,” IK mumbles into his collar. Somehow it makes the looks on his brothers’ faces unimportant in comparison.

[writingquestionsanswered]

How do I show mispronunciations and correction of said mispronunciation? Specifically when the mispronunciation is how you would assume the word is actually pronounced. For example, the title ‘Bangabandhu’ is actually pronounced ‘Bongobondhu’. How do I show this mispronunciation and it’s correction without confusing the reader?

Illustrating a Mispronunciation

Readers routinely encounter words in fiction that they won't know exactly how to pronounce. When reading, the onus is typically on the reader to figure it out, unless it is an invented word and the pronunciation is critical, in which case you might find a way to hint at the proper way to pronounce it.

So... when a character in a story mispronounces a word that the reader also might not know how to pronounce--like Bangabandhu, for example--what I would suggest is using phonetics to illustrate both the wrong and right way to pronounce it. Kind of like you did in the example, only phonetically spelling out the mispronunciation, too.

"Wasn't he the bang-abbad-hoo, though?"

"Bongo-bond-hu," she corrected. "He was Bangabandhu."

The second sentence shows the proper pronunciation along with the proper spelling so the reader can associate the two in the future. You can find other creative ways to structure that, as well.

I hope that helps!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[casuallyawkardd]

hello dear, how are you?, could you write a picture where miguel discovers that you are learning spanish to show that you care about him, if it doesn't go well. thanks for the attention ☺️☺️

After my trip, I'm a little tired and sunburnt, but it was all worth it! Ngl, imma be needing to write something wholesome after the shit I've been writing so here you go 😂😭

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x GN!Reader

Warnings: fluff that is all, also I'm still not fluent in Spanish so feel free to correct grammar/spelling

For Miguel, he thinks you're ignoring him. You're blowing him off to go do something else and when he tries to pry you tell him to 'quit being so nosy.' He's already annoyed, so he doesn't pick up on your teasing tone.

In reality, you've been trying to learn Spanish to surprise him. You don't expect to be fluent anytime soon, but some simple phrases and a few terms of endearment are a good start. Those moments when Miguel is talking to you and thinks you're ignoring him, are actually you listening to your Spanish lessons. Whenever you're 'blowing him off,' you're just sitting in your room practicing your pronunciations.

Lyla catches wind of what you're doing before him, overhearing you at HQ when you thought you had found a quiet place to practice. She even offers to help you out and you gladly take her up on the offer. You had had one too many dreams of the Duolingo owl in the corner of your room as it was. Little do you know that your nightmares only now come to life, though that could just be you being dramatic.

Unlike the little, green owl app, these lessons talk back. Sometimes it feels like she critiques you too harshly, especially when you practice writing in Spanish. You wanted to be able to put cute, little notes around his platform. Her shrill voice reminding you when and where to put the accents on letters and that you have to add upside down exclamation and question marks at the beginning of a sentence wakes you up in the middle of the night. However, Lyla is also extremely helpful at the same time. Teaching you the more 'casual' way to say certain things, as opposed to the generic, robotic responses you had been learning. Even some swear words because why not?

The day finally comes when you're ready to reveal your little surprise. Miguel is reluctant, back to you as you try to get his attention.

"Oh, so now you have free time?"

It's a bit endearing that he missed your presence, you say as much. 'Yo también te extrañé, mi amor.' I missed you too, my love.

His head snaps in your direction, confusion written on his face. Slowly, he steps towards you, eyeing you as if expecting you to say something else. Which you do. 'Quería sorprenderte aprendiendo español. ¿Es eso mala?' I wanted to surprise you by learning Spanish. Is it bad?

Everything clicks into place and he's sighing in relief, grasping you by the upper arms to pull you in for a kiss on the forehead. He holds position, letting the kiss sink in before pulling away, running his hands up and down your arms.

"Agradezco el gesto, de verdad. Gracias amor." I really appreciate the gesture. Thanks love.

You ask why he was giving you the cold shoulder moments ago, Miguel sighing heavily before explaining his side of things. How he had assumed you were ignoring him and that he might've gotten a little bit salty about it. You laugh, realizing your mistake. '¡Soy embarazada!' Miguel's smile drops a little after that, looking like he's trying to keep it just for you.

"Yeah, you definitely have some more practicing to do, cariño."

Tags: @prettylittlebrowngirl @khaleesihavilliard @leahnicole1219 @edgycatx @graysonshaven @qiaipia @3zae-zae3 @melovetitties @jebsoxnoshansk @thedevax @erissco @its-carlerrr @muimui06

[h0neytalk]

Practicing the Arabic Alphabet

I honestly lucked out so much taking Arabic in college and learning basic MSA reading/writing/grammar from an excellent professor but I’m gonna compile the most useful things we did in class here to help people learning on their own (this isn’t focused on resources, just strategies, might do a separate post with worksheets and videos but they’re pretty easy to find):

Get the alphabet in front of you. We had a packet with a page for every letter with the letter written in the three positions, pronunciations, names, and lines to trace and write like 100 times. And then a page with all the diacritics. These sheets abound for free online. Make yourself an alphabet packet. Watch copious videos/listen to recordings going over the letters and how they sound. Repeat it back. Work in chunks and don’t move to the next set until you can recognize and write the current set.

Tracing! Learn to write the letters right to left and with the proper order from day one. This sounds obvious but people in my class were still drawing letters left to right as isolated shapes next to each other so idk maybe it’s not. Having nice handwriting in Arabic is both satisfying and absurdly helpful. Learn how the letters connect. Spend more time than you think is necessary on this.

Write English words and sentences phonetically using diacritics and Arabic letters. Do not worry about translation and spelling. Just make the connection between shape -> sound. Use anything you have. Lists of names, entire pages from books and magazines, texts from friends, menus. Literally anything. Work through how to make those words with the new alphabet. You will learn a surprising amount about the language and pronunciation by doing this. How do you translate sounds that don’t exist? What about multiple sounds where English only has one? Read it back with the accent.

Transcribe English phonetically. Same as above but do it without the English in front of you and just listening. Make that voice to visual connection.

Hand write word lists once you get to vocab. Then type them on your laptop and phone (if you want to be able to type in Arabic, also highly recommend a keyboard cover with the letters next to the Latin alphabet). Copy all the diacritics even though that’s not necessarily how native speakers do it. I have a notebook that looks like it belongs to lunatic toddler because it just has the same words and snippets written over and over again lmao.

Finally, transcribe Arabic. If you can use something with a transcript or captions to check your work even better! But don’t check for perfect spelling, check you used mostly the right letters and marks. You will definitely smash some words together and miss a silent or elided letter or something but try and hear the difference between ع and ا or ق and ك etc. The more sources you use the better.

We did this for one full semester of 50 minute classes 3 times a week while sprinkling in some basic vocab towards the second half. It felt like forever at the time but I never lost my ability to phonetically read and write in Arabic despite 4 years of complete non-use while living in America in an area without any significant Arabic-speaking population or language presence. It is absolutely CHISELED into my brain.

[mindutme]

T’owal T’uesday #5

Last week’s post was part one of T’owal translations of bits of the Epic of Gilgamesh from this post. My translations are of course from English translations, not from the original text! Today I’m showing a translation of the second fragment, which was translated by Herbert Mason. Here’s Mason’s translation, followed by my own:

Who are you? You are no one that I know. I am Gilgamesh, who killed Humbaba And the Bull of Heaven with my friend.

If you are Gilgamesh and did those things, why Are you so emaciated and your face half-crazed?

I have grieved! Is it so impossible To believe? he pleaded. My friend who went through everything with me Is dead!

No one grieves that much, she said. Your friend is gone. Forget him. No one remembers him. He is dead.

Enkidu. Enkidu. Gilgamesh called out: Help me. They do not know you As I know you.

“Yád hné? Hox hú hné sín ol tso su.” “Gílgamesh hú sú, hú sú sín k’ep ma we o iya su Humbaba a Besye Yen.”

“Os hú li hné Gílgamesh a tlé li fén xu, be úkye des hné, be p’úbxod don hwá hne?”

“Fyút sú fén udsen k’et! Pxu hox ól hné byóx ot?” sém mó ót. “K’ét we íya su athdas we o su fen ex!”

“Sín hox údsen e geson xu,” lál bós ót. “Dné we íya hne. Kxókyo oth mó. Sín hox fdál mó. K’ét we mó.”

“Énkidu, Énkidu!” k’ú Gílgames ót a í, “Nún oth sú. Ól hox il su mó hné.”

Below are a few notes on some aspects of the translation that might be interesting.

T’owal words are all one or two syllables long, and it so happens that the three proper nouns in this text are all three, setting them apart. In addition, T’owal doesn’t have the sound /ʃ/ (sh), so when it borrows a word with it I usually spell it as sy. This can be ambiguous within a word, as the sequence /sj/ does occur in T’owal, but as it occurs at the end of a word in this case it’s clear. A one-to-one transliteration of the T’owal would be Gílgamesy, but I went with sh to make it clearer.

I’m not certain how the name Enkidu would have originally been pronounced (and I’m not sure how well established that is by linguists anyway), but following T’owal’s strict pronunciation rules it ends up as [ˈɛŋ.kɪ.dʊ] or [ˈejŋ.kɪ.dʊ], depending on the case—all T’owal words have initial stress. However, since it’s a borrowed name it could be written as Enkídú/Énkídú to get [i] and [u] sounds instead, if not a later stress.

The opening question, yád hné?, is a fairly rude phrasing—though it can mean “who are you,” it can also mean “what are you.” A more polite version would be Sín yad hú hné?, literally “What person are you?”

The phrase k’ét we shows up twice in this text to mean “is dead.” However, it’s more literally “has died,” as T’owal generally just uses past tense forms in situations where English would use a participle. The same word k’et “to die” actually shows up twice earlier. First is k’ep ma we (with assimilation of the final stop). This is the causative form, so it means “killed” (as before, we marks the past tense). Second is in the phrase Fyút sú fén udsen k’et!, which is how I chose to translate “I have grieved!” More literally, it’s “I feel/have felt a death-sadness,” so in this instance k’et is being used as the noun “death.” There are actually several ways that “death” could be translated into T’owal, but that’s a subject for another post.