#Does anyone speak latin anymore? No?

[fedorabender]

The Shaw packmates and Darlin'

Alvaro, Chadara, Javonie and Karthris

Alvaro(baaabe)

they/them(amab)

anxious mess.

childhood best friends with Chadara(Angel)

Afro-Latina, they speak fluent Latin

5'6 wish they were a little bit taller... they wish they were a baller

Alavaro and Treasure(Porter's listener) are siblings for oc lore reasons

You can't be straight if you have no definite gender silly, idk what you are, though

Chadara(angel)

She/her(trans fem)

A ball of chaos.

Childhood best friends with Alvaro(Asher's mate).

5'2- she did not win the gene lottery gng

Indian heritage. She's pretty disconnected from her culture but she's been reconnecting with her roots, expressing it without shame because there was nothing to be ashamed of. can speak Punjabi-not well but it's getting there

Guy and Chadara are siblings!!!

Chadara does free-style ice skating and wishes to go professional one day.

It took Chadara 15 years to grow out her hair. She rarely ever cuts it

She used to dress very feminine because she had the assumption that if she wasn't as feminine as possible, she wouldn't be seen as a woman. So she didn't go to the gym, didn't wear pants, and didn't speak much, neither was she sexuality active(she hasn't gotten surgery). But when David came into her life, he helped her ease some of that anxiety, letting her know that whatever she does, she will always be a woman.

as straight as the pansexual flag pole

Javonie(Darlin')

he/him(trans masc)

isolated and weary

Trying to get Chadara to leave him alone, but that woman won't budge. if she wants a friend, she will get a friend. Chadara also takes Javonie Ice skating with her, and he is surprisingly good at it. they are a dynamic duo on the ice.

6'3-tall, dark and beefy, awwoga

Nigerian!! moved from Abuja to Dahlia (I seriously have no clue where this is) when he was 5 and was in the foster system frequently. The longest family he's stayed with was the Shaw pack. He speaks Yoruba and Igbo but not as often anymore since he barely knows anyone who speaks those languages.

"Are you a home essential?" "....a what? "..a homosexal"

Javonie is David's awkward foster sibling!!! (in my oc lore)

Karthris(sweatheart)

genderfluid in a magical way(switch between similar forms effortlessly) he/her/them

Ethiopian-fluid in Somali. whenever they meet up with Javonie, they try to convince him to cook something cultural. Still, Javonie doesn't budge, so they cook their cultural foods for him instead.

Extra for no reason, whatsoever.

developed their powers from a ~trauma response~(more lore, but i don't know if I'll have the energy to post)

6'4- humungous jugaloos in every form(enby, masc, fem, all)

beeee whoo youuuu arreeeee! He saw, she conquered, they came

[anonymous-dentist]

I find it amazing how many people are reaction to Pepito and roier relationship, like, expecting him to be the greatest father of all times when he has been dealing with depression for the longest time and now is facing what could only be described as one of the lowest points in his life.

While also forgetting Pepito's own feelings because he clearly wants to get closer to him and worries about him.

It's because they aren't actual Roier fans, because real Roier fans are NOT out here calling him a good father rn. He's fucked up! He needs help! He's doing his best, but he also isn't, and we all know and acknowledge that. Pepito does, too!!

But then we see all these English-POV-Only people taking literally everything qRoier does and going "See? He shouldn't be a father anymore. Let Bad (or Fit or Phil or any English CC) take care of Pepito from now on, they'll know how to do it!!!" And like. That's super fucked up!!!!! Because we had that Otipep bullshit last week that Hispanic fans were understandably really upset about, and then English fans are like "Well actually it was canon and Roier is a terrible dad and his child hates him so Bad should obviously take custody of Pepito because he's perfect!!" like?? That's super weird? Why do people only criticize Roier's parenting rn?

Think about it. Even going back to when Bobby was alive and when even Tilin and Flippa were alive, English fans were discounting Roier's parenting despite Bobby unarguably being the happiest kid on the island up until his dying breath, anyone can tell you that. When Bobby died, everyone said it was Roier's fault. When Tilin died, I saw people saying "Well, this wouldn't have happened if Roier was there instead of Slime. He should've paid more attention." Same for when Flippa died the final time. Some people still don't count Roier as one of Richarlyson's fathers, but they're practically begging for Bad to be one. Or they've been like "Well Roier can't take care of Richarlyson, he'll get him killed just like how he got Bobby killed!" since June

And now we have Roier and Pepito and Otipep's non-canon leaving a sign in English for other parents to see how bad of a parent Roier has to be. qBad saying "Well, Richarlyson is a better parent than Roier is."

But then we have qRoier himself not wanting to be a parent again but taking care of Pepito anyway and giving Pepito cookies when the other islanders could technically take care of Pepito for him. He doesn't trust Pepito at all and he thinks Pepito is evil and a clone or whatever sent to distract him from the Federation, but he's taking care of Pepito anyway, and he's done a pretty okay job at it considering how genuinely depressed and suicidal he is. He's been spending all night every night working on something in secret, but he still went to hang out with Pepito instead of continuing to work on it or instead of sleeping or whatever.

Pepito loves Pepito's dad, and Pepito has been wanting to really connect with him. When ccRoier gets better and feels well enough to get online, I wouldn't be surprised if Pepito stuck close to him to try and cheer him up because! Pepito adores him!! Pepito doesn't want a different father; if Pepito did, Pepito would've hung around Forever or Bagi or Bad all day like Otipep would've (because Otipep hated Roier and wanted a different parent)

But people- and, again, mostly English-POV-onlies, and specifically BBH-POV-Onlies- have decided that Pepito needs to be rescued. Roier is a bad father, Otipep is canon despite several ccs and admins and Quackity himself saying otherwise, Pepito needs someone who can take care of Pepito, and that person? Obviously qBadBoyHalo, who is literally dying in canon. Bad is NOT healthy at all, anyone looking at him can see that.

Not one of Pepito's other parents (who happen to all be Latin American, majority Mexican + Carre the Argentinean.) Not any of the Brazilians or the French. One of the English CCs, who doesn't even speak Pepito's language (because Pepito doesn't like writing in anything but Spanish because! Pepito's parents are all Hispanic! Why would Pepito need to write in English around them?)

So, really, people need to take a look at their attitudes and consider whether or not they think Roier is and always has been a bad father because of his actions or because he's a Mexican man. Same reason why people need to think about this regarding qMariana and Flippa, and qQuackity with Richarlyson.

Because, to me (admittedly as a gringo myself), this all reeks of xenophobia. Why else would a Mexican character and cc and his fans be constantly harassed by overwhelmingly-American fans in defense of a white American man who has not once asked them to do this. Fans demanding Pepito speak in English last night when Pepito was hanging out with Bad and being unhappy when Pepito spoke in Spanish. Fans consistently demonizing the Latin American members and characters and eggs on the server, whether it's the Latin American Hispanics or the Brazilians.

Last night, Bad's fans led a hate campaign against Roier and Cellbit fans on Twitter. They've been pulling this shit for weeks now since Pepito first showed up, and I really think that they need to take a step back and touch some grass and consider their values because this issue goes far deeper than character analysis, I think.

[ambyandony]

Pannacotta Fugo - Monster AU Profile

(hopefully screen-reader-friendly variant with detailed image descriptions)

Pannacotta Fugo, a completely normal human being with a completely abnormal understanding of the supernatural.

Preface about species type:

Fugo is a human being, and as such, there's not much to say in terms of species. You probably know a human. You probably are a human (I won't assume). A majority of humans (unless cursed or blessed) are not born with any innate magical properties or capabilities like some nonhumans are. Although some human beings are capable of magic, whether learnt, spiritual, religious or bestowed, Fugo simply isn't one of them, and does not practise magic, thus making him a completely normal human.

Details related to Humanity:

Being human means that he ages normally, doesn't exceed human strength, and cannot perceive magic supernaturally. Being human does have at least one advantage; a human who neither practises magic nor carries magical objects on their person cannot really be detected by magical detection senses...They're also very frequently underestimated by monsters and other humans alike.

Details about Fugo:

Just a normal human, except he's incredibly smart and incredibly bold.

Incredibly aware of nonhumans and their shenanigans, to the point where he's wildly desensitised and frankly quite sick of it sometimes. He has had it UP TO HERE with this shit.

Nothing fazes him anymore. He's fully, 100% aware that practically everyone around him is inhuman so now he just doesn't care when they do weird shit at this point. Rarely questions this shit anymore. He just Gets It now.

Knows more about nonhumans than he's ever really wanted to. Not afraid of them in the least (anymore) and is quite well-versed with a wealth of folk knowledge, a good majority of which he learnt when he was little from his Nonna.

Particularly familiar with the Gentry. He's incredibly cautious with all his wording, especially when it comes to introductions, and he knows quite a few preventative measures and deterrents, should he ever come to need them for any reason.

Far too hard to trick with snaky language. Excellent with loopholes, too-- he was studying law, for God's sake.

Audacious enough to insult nonhumans and humans to their faces pretty indiscriminately when he thinks it's called for.

Not afraid to speak his mind to anyone and gets away without any repercussions, in part just due to the SHEER AUDACITY, but also because everyone knows what Buccellati will do if anything should happen to Fugo (who is definitely not his son).

Has seen most everyone's true forms (at least to the extent he's capable of perceiving) so he's just used to it. The others usually don't feel a need to disguise themselves when it's just him around.

Knows around 12 languages including, allegedly, Ancient Sumerian (don't ask) and Latin. Comedically he frequently corrects Buccellati when he tries to speak Latin. Often. It just kills him to hear any kind of grammatical errors.

Anaemic. Maybe the lack of iron in his blood is why Giorno wants it so badly...

An excellent strategist. Always thinking of contingencies and worst-case scenarios. This is also known as having anxiety.

Has never given any part of his identity to the Fae and he's not about to start now.

Has a crush on giorno...??? but he also constantly wants to fucking THROTTLE the bitch

So Giorno likes to do this thing where he changes his appearance slightly, just enough to be subconsciously noticeable, bit by bit, just to fuck with people. Problem is, Narancia also likes to do this, so when Giorno tried it on Fugo, Fugo nearly fucking jumped him.

"Buccellati you don't have to say 'be not afraid' every fucking time you wake me up at three in the fucking morning and i see your true form what the fuck do you want"

"Ah. Okay. Fine, Buccellati. Why don't I just stay out here and converse with the Devil, then? Hey, Abbacchio-" "FUGO!"

"What's your favourite colour?" "Snakes, do you like boys?"

Emotionally he's a broke college student, mentally a clever little rich boy, physically, a mess.

Neurodivergent. Autistic. Hyperfixates on a random-ass topic and then if your trust level is at 8 or higher he infodumps at you about literally every single thing he knows on the subject. Aggressively.

Wears tiny mirrors sewn into his tie. They're silver-backed, and serve the function of a sort of countermeasure against certain nonhumans. Obviously it doesn't work for every nonhuman, but if the person he's talking to just straight up doesn't appear in the the mirrors, then they're, of course, inhuman.

Has an ongoing argument with Mista regarding what kind of luck four-leaf clovers bring. For the sake of peace, they've decided that, since Fugo insists that ”four-leaf clovers are lucky" and Mista insists that "four-leaf anything is unlucky", then surely four-leaf clovers must be "absolutely no luck at all".

fugo dismayed, seconds apart: "I BROUGHT THIS CHILD [narancia] IN under FALSE PRETENCES and BOY AM I FUCKING PISSED ABOUT IT!!!" "-hey you stay away from him That is my gremlin brother bitch" "THIS IS NOT HOW MATH WORKS! WE HAVE BEEN OVER THIS YOU STUPID MOTHERFUCKER!!!!"

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Inside Man: Part Two

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst

Summary: The gang is split into two. Sam and Cas continue to look for the cure for the Mark with the help of someone who will do anything to bring you back. You and Dean face off with Rowena but this time, you're going to show her that you're the most powerful witch there is, and damn her if she thinks she can beat you.

Season Ten Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3

x

There's a psychic, Oliver Pryce, who is living in town and who Sam thinks is strong enough to connect to someone in Heaven. He's located two towns over so Sam and Cas immediately head over there.

"Who is this guy?" Cas asks.

"So, back in the '50s, Oliver Pryce was a kid psychic. He performed everywhere--carnivals, Atlantic City, you name it. He was the real deal. The Men of Letters were teaching him how to control his powers when they were killed. The point is, he's one of the good guys. He might be happy to see us."

Sam and Cas approach Oliver's house and see a "No Trespassing" sign on his fence.

"Or not," Cas says.

Sam walks past the fence, walks up the porch steps, and pounds on his front door.

"Mr. Pryce? Oliver Pryce!"

No response.

"I'll break it down," Cas says seriously.

"Dude, chill."

"What? I'm helping." The front door opens and Oliver stands there with a slight glare. "Just follow my lead." Cas turns to the older man. "Mr. Pryce? This is Sam--"

"Winchester. You're Sam Winchester, Man of Letters."

"How did you know?"

"Mind reader, remember?" Oliver's eyes look Cas up and down as he tries to figure out who or what he is. "What are you?"

"I'm an Angel."

"No, you can't be," Oliver frowns.

"Why not?"

"I'm an atheist."

"Not anymore," Sam says. Both he and Cas enter Oliver's house and Oliver escorts them to the living room. There are pictures of Oliver during his younger years hanging on the wall. "Is that you?"

"It was me. I don't do the psychic stuff anymore. Being around people, it's kind of... Hell, all those brains yapping all the time drive a guy bananas."

"Because you can hear everyone's thoughts?" Cas asks.

"Well, not yours. All I'm getting from you is colors. The hippie over here? I'm seeing some creep-ass hobbit-lookin' fella and a prison cell?"

Sam frowns at being called a hippie but lets it go.

"That's Heaven's jail," Cas says.

"Heaven's got a fucking jail?"

"Yeah, it does, and we're looking to break someone out of it. We have an inside man but we need your help to talk to him."

"If I say no?"

"You're the mind reader," Sam smirks.

"I'll get my shit," Oliver sighs. Oliver sets his living room up like one of his seance sessions and sits in between Sam and Cas. Candles cover the surface of the table and a small radio sits in the middle of the table. "Do you have anything that belonged to the deceased?"

"Yeah, right here."

Sam pulls out Bobby's hat and sets it on the table. If anyone will have enough motivation to help you and Dean, it's your dad.

"Good. Now shut up and hold hands."

All three men do and Oliver begins chanting something in Latin. The lights start to flicker, the table shakes slightly, and the candles start shooting flames from the wicks. Once Oliver is done chanting, he opens his eyes and nods to Sam.

"Bobby? Bobby, can you hear me?" Silence. "Bobby, we need your help."

"Sam?"

Bobby's voice comes from the radio in the middle of the table. Sam doesn't know how long this connection will last so he speaks fast and tells Bobby everything that has been happening with you and Dean.

"Y/N is turning into a monster, Bobby. She's soulless and pretty soon, your daughter won't be your daughter. She'll be beyond saving. Anyway, that's the short version of what's been happening. Are you still there?"

"Yeah, I'm here," Bobby says thickly. "What about Joanna?"

Sam looks at Cas.

"All I know is that they're safe. She's a witch again, Bobby, which means she can read minds. Dean and I can't know where they are."

"They? There's more than just Joanna?"

"We don't have time to get into this right now, Bobby."

"Okay, just so I'm hearing this right, you have to figure out a way to get the Mark of Cain off Dean before he turns back into a demon and off Y/N before she goes postal?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"So, just another day at the office for you boys, huh? Put Dean on the line."

"Dean's not here. Y/N isn't either."

"Why not?"

"Y/N threatened her kids. She made him promise not to look for the cure or else she'll find her kids and kill them. She doesn't want this cure, Bobby. Dean's distracting her right now. I never made any promise to find the cure."

"Shit," Bobby sighs. "Alright, what's the plan?"

"Each soul in Heaven is locked in its own private paradise," Cas explains. "That's where you are now. You need to escape. You need to find the gate to Earth and open it. Then you and I will find Metatron, the Scribe of God."

"Hey, Sam, you remember when this job was just chopping up some fang and tossing back a cold one?"

"I miss that," Sam sighs.

"Ditto. So, while I'm playing Steve McQueen, is anyone gonna be looking for me?"

"Everyone," Cas answers. "The Angels will not like a soul wandering free."

"Do you have a way to slow them down?"

"Not exactly. I'm sure you'll figure something out, Bobby. You always do."

"Listen, I appreciate the warm and fuzzy, but I ain't exactly playing on the big leagues these days. I'm mostly drinking and reading the classics. Truth is, I'm rusty and maybe there's somebody better out there."

"Bobby, there isn't. I'm telling you, if you love Y/N and Dean in the way I know you do, you'll do this for them... for me."

Bobby takes two deep breaths before scoffing.

"Hell, I'm already dead. What's the worst that could happen? What do I need to do?"

"You need to find your Heaven's escape hatch. Look for something that shouldn't be there, and that's your way out."

"If I find a way out, then what?"

"You'll be in a long hallway with a bunch of doors. The gate to Earth will be behind number forty-two."

"Okay."

Bobby gets off his ass and starts looking around in the small room he always stays in and drinks. Nothing seems out of the ordinary but there is something on the carpet he only notices until now. A small white string is sticking out of the carpet he's standing on. He reaches down and pulls on it, and a doorway opens on the back wall. White light pours from it and he smirks.

"Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in."

The second that Bobby steps through the door into the hallway, the connection to Bobby is severed. Sam and Cas, after thanking Oliver, head back to the playground. They stay stuck in the shadows so the angels don't suspect anything. All they have to do is wait for Bobby to open the gate and Cas can go through without a hitch.

"This better work. I need my brother and best friend back," Sam sighs.

"You sure he can handle this?" Cas asks.

"He's Bobby. He can handle anything, especially when it comes to his daughter."

The second Bobby sets foot into the hallway, the alarm blares and he bangs his fist on the wall.

"Balls!"

If Bobby doesn't do something now, the angels will come for him and ruin everything. He looks at the endless doors in the hallway and gets an idea. He starts opening up all the doors and calling out for their occupants. Before he knows it, a ton of people are wandering the halls looking confused. That's when the angels come including Hannah.

"What? Find out how this happened," Hannah says to one of the other angels. "Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, I need you to return to your Heavens in a calm, orderly manner."

"Oh, yeah? Well, who made you boss?" Bobby says loudly.

"Right?"

"Who the hell you think do you are?" another person asks.

This causes an outrage where the souls are trying to fight back against the angels. Bobby uses this and escapes while the angels are occupied. He slips into another hallway and searches for door forty-two. When he finds it, he pushes it open. Sam and Cas have been waiting patiently for Bobby to find the door. A rift opens from above the sandbox and the two men jump into action. Sam runs to keep the guarding angels back while Cas runs for the door.

"Go! Go!" Sam says and tackles one of the angels to the ground.

Cas jumps through the door of Heaven and slides on the floor right in front of Bobby.

"Welcome to the party," Bobby chuckles. Bobby helps Cas to his feet and pats him on the back. "So, I need you to tell me how bad it really is."

"Um..."

"Cas, what's happening?"

"Dean is angry all the time. Y/N doesn't have a soul. Dean has it. He sucked her soul out of her when Metatron killed him. He tainted hers as dark as his so we're waiting for her soul to purify before we can put it back in."

"Does Dean know you're here?"

"He knows we're looking for a way to get the Mark off. He doesn't know you're involved. Y/N doesn't know anything. If she does, she will hurt your granddaughters and grandson."

"Wait." Bobby stops Cas from walking and gets tears in his eyes. "I have three grandchildren?"

If he doesn't know about Maryann, he doesn't know about Robert and what happened to him.

"Maryann was born two years after Joanna. She was a twin. Robert, your grandson, didn't make it. He was a stillborn. Noah is adopted. Y/N found him at a time when they needed each other."

"I have three grandkids," Bobby whispers to himself.

"You might not if Y/N continues down this road."

Cas leads Bobby to the prison where Metatron currently is. He looks up when the two men enter and grins knowingly.

"Well, howdy, fellas."

"This is the Scribe of God? He looks like a Fraggle," Bobby scoffs.

"I'm gonna take that as a compliment. That was an excellent program."

"Metatron, we are here--"

"I know why you're here, Asstiel, and I'm not interested. I told you I would rather die than let Dean and Y/N Winchester use me as their personal punching bag again."

"Don't worry. They're not involved. You're gonna be my punching bag," Cas glares.

"Ah, the B team, huh? Interesting. Keys are over there." Metatron points to the keys hanging on the wall. "Chop chop!"

"Are you sure this is the only way?" Bobby asks.

"Unfortunately."

Sam killed both angels so they wouldn't blab to the other ones of what Cas did. He's been waiting patiently by the car for the door to Heaven to open again. It's been about two hours when it finally opens, and Cas steps out with Metatron. Bobby isn't with him. He didn't think he would be.

"Sam-tastic! Miss me?" Metatron sniffs the air. "Oh, smell that? That smells like freedom. Well, let's go. I call shotgun!"

Metatron tries walking to the car but Cas pulls him back by his jacket collar.

"You don't get to make demands, Metatron. You're not in charge here."

"Oh, I'm afraid I am. I know about the Mark. I have your Grace. I make the rules. It's called leverage, boys. Learn it, live it, love it."

Sam and Cas look at each other, and the Winchester nods to the angel once. Without blinking, Cas slides out his angel blade and slices Metaron's neck horizontally. It's not to kill him, no, it's to steal his Grace. He did it so fast that Metatron didn't have enough time to react. Before he knows it, his Grace is trapped in a small container Sam brought.

Metatron is human.

Knowing he won't heal from this, Sam takes out his gun and shoots Metatron in the leg. The former angel screams in pain and falls on his ass while reaching for his bleeding leg.

"Ow! Ow! Ow!"

"We have your Grace, Metatron. You're mortal now. So, you will answer our questions or Sam will, what's the phrase?" Cas' voice deepens angrily. "Blow your fucking brains out. It's called leverage, Metatron."

"Learn it, live it, love it," Sam smirks. "How do we get rid of the Mark?"

"I don't know," Metatron stutters. Sam aims the gun at his head and the former angel backs away in fear. "I don't know! It's old magic, God-level magic! Or Lucifer level, but you can't ask him, exactly, can you?"

"What about the tablets?"

"No, there's nothing in them about the Mark," he stutters again.

"So, when you said, 'The river ends at the source,' that was--"

"I was just making up shit, trying to buy time till I could screw you over. It worked before."

"He's telling the truth," Cas says. His eyes darken. "Shoot him."

Sam raises his gun without question, dead set on killing Metatron.

"No, no! No!" Metatron panics. "Your Grace! I wasn't lying about that. There's still some left. I'll take you to it."

"It's your call, Cas."

"I have to get my Grace back, Sam," Cas whispers.

Metatron is relieved that he isn't going to die today. Cas shoves him into the back of the car but before Sam can get behind the wheel, Cas stops him. He reaches into his trenchcoat and pulls out two envelopes.

"Listen, Bobby asked me to give you these. One is for you and Dean. The other is for Y/N. Don't give it to her until her soul is returned."

"Okay. Thanks," Sam whispers.

If he gives it to you now, you'll destroy this and you'd be heartbroken if you destroyed something you can't ever get back.

x

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[cellarspider]

Qunlat 4/12: Phonology

⭅ Previous =⦾ Index ⦾= Next ⭆

Qunlat pronunciation has varied widely between voice actors, and it seems likely to continue to do so. I’m of the “follow your heart” style regarding this--if you like a certain pronunciation, go for it.

…But if your heart tells you “follow someone else!”, then I’ll try and help out here. You’ll just have to sit through a bit of linguistics history first, while I explain how Bioware has made this complicated.

So. The spelling of European languages started to fossilize with the arrival of the printing press, at about the same time Europeans started inflicting themselves on more people who didn’t use alphabets. How do you tell people how to pronounce “開顛窗”? If you’re writing the first Chinese dictionary published in Europe (c.1670), you spell it “Çai tiēn h'oâm”, based off of how Portuguese was spoken when an Italian jesuit tried to write down Chinese  in the mid-1500s, then you define it in French as “ouvrir une feneſtre du toi🙲 ou une lucarne.”: “open a roof window or skylight”. For the French, you use a ligature variant on "&" so old that some default fonts on modern computers don't include it anymore (hello mac users! You might be staring at a little square that says "01F672" right now, I swear it's supposed to be a C with a fancy hat).

Also you don’t write down “開顛窗” at all, because obviously that wouldn’t help anyone.

These days, if you run into Chinese written in an alphabet, it’ll be using the Pinyin standard. How does it spell “Çai tiēn h'oâm”?

“Kāi diān chuán”. Would you get that from “Çai tiēn h'oâm”? Hell, if you don’t know Pinyin, do you know how to pronounce “kāi diān chuán”?

Pinyin and our ad-hoc 1600s-French-1500s-Italian-Portuguese model of spelling Chinese encounters the problem of attempting a phonetic transcription of a language, trying to write down what they hear so that others can speak it. They also have the challenge of romanization, using the Latin alphabet to write out a language that doesn’t normally use it.

So. Qunlat, arising completely separately from English The Common Tongue, doesn’t use the Latin alphabet, doesn’t use–uh. The Common Tongue’s writing system, I don't think we actually have a canon name for that.⁽¹⁾ So all Qunlat we’ve seen written down is using a romanization. But is this romanization actually phonetic? Romanization doesn’t have to be. If I show you “Meraad astarit, meraad itwasit, aban aqun”, do you know how to pronounce that?

As discussed previously, the voice actors for qunari have all given it their best shot, but come up with different results. We don’t know what the scripts they’ve read from have actually looked like, but we have one potential answer.

And now we have to go back to World of Thedas, volume 2, and meet with my nemesis again.

“MARE-awed a-STAR-eat, MARE-awed it-WAH-seat, ab-AWN AH-kyoon.”

Hooboy. 

This is possibly useful. It’s attributed in the fiction to Philliam, a Bard!, so it’s not reliable, but the fact that it’s been written out implies that the IRL writer behind them was attempting to give people a real pronunciation guide regardless.

This is what we call a pronunciation respelling, where words with ambiguous pronunciation are rewritten to act as a guide to the reader.

…But here’s the problem: How do you pronounce “a-STAR-eat”? It depends entirely on your native language, dialect, and accent, and unless we know who wrote this, we can’t tell what they meant. If you, dear reader, don’t have the same accent, you might come up with something completely different. Just for English alone, wikipedia lists twenty-five different systems, with not a single sound having consistent spelling between all of them.

How do we get around this? How do we write down not just words, but unambiguous sounds?

Welcome to the wonderful world of the International Phonetic Alphabet!

Originally created in the late 1800s, the IPA (no relation to the beer) is a system that assigns letters to sounds based off of how and where sounds are formed. It allows linguists to accurately record the sound of a language, as long as they have a good ear. And from that, other linguists can reproduce the sound of a language, as long as they know how to read IPA. It helps capture accents too: "Car" might seem like a simple word, but in IPA, it's spelled /kɑː/ if you're using RP British English, /kɑɹ/ for General American, [kʰäɾ] for the Scots, and [kʰaː] for Bostonians.

It’s not 100% perfect, but it’s a reliable way to transfer sounds through text. Hell, there’s now ways to plug in IPA to a website and have a little robot voice read it out for you, though they have limitations.⁽²⁾

I, personally, have a hell of a time remembering parts of the IPA. I’m always opening up the IPA Consonant Chart on Wikipedia, because that includes little sound samples of every consonant. The vowel chart is even more helpful, because I can never remember the poxy little bastards.

For a bonus: the vowel chart is mostly pronounced by a single wiki contributor, who speaks loudly and clearly. …But then there’s ɞ and ø̞, which appear to have been recorded by people who were far more shy about it, and ɤ̞ is provided by someone who pronounces it three times, and seems to die a little bit as they finish up. These are the things you entertain yourself with when you’re learning the IPA.

Anyway! If we want to make this pronunciation of Qunlat equally accessible to everyone,⁽³⁾ we should try to translate this guide into IPA.

We’re just going to assume that the writers, when constructing their pronunciation guide, were aiming for a General American or the similar Standard Canadian accent. Those are the regions Bioware is mostly based out of, and they’re the easiest to find phonetic pronunciation. So, for example, “a-STAR-eat” would be transcribed as /əˈstɑɹ.it/, or possibly /��ˈstɑɹ.it/ depending on what they mean by “a-”. Already, you can see we have some uncertainty here because of our starting point, but we can take these IPA transcriptions and throw it in a speech synthesizer to get pretty unambiguous pronunciations!

You'll notice that most of the letters line up with how they're spelled in English, though some of the sounds don't line up with how you'd first think to pronounce them. That's especially true around vowels, so always be aware of that when reading IPA.

Now, one might ask, if it was relatively easy to convert this from a generally readable pronunciation guide into the unfamiliar and technical IPA, why bother? Well because I did in fact start with the easiest word to convert. The rest of these were a lot harder. 

How do you pronounce the Qunlat word “ir-vah”? Because according to Philliam, a Bard!, it's “ihr-vawh”. Does that actually make you feel confident you can say it right? “Aw” has a known pronunciation in English, but what's “awh”? What's the distinction? Is there a distinction?

I'm going to have to make assumptions here, informed by my own background with this stuff. It will, by definition, be an opinion rather than an authoritative source. I’ll go with what I think is the most uncomplicated solution, and we can see whether it sounds like what we expect.

So, to start with, I’ve made a breakdown of the sounds found in this text, and what IPA pronunciations they match up with. When the respelling has included english words as pronunciation guides (ex. “a-STAR-eat”), I’ve directly referred to the General American IPA transcription. When the respelling uses nonce words (ex. “AH-kyoon”), I’ve referred to the Oxford English Dictionary respelling system, as it was one of only two that contained the majority of the nonce word respellings. This allowed me to be consistent, though sometimes the text itself was not. Check out the “Phonetics - WoT2” sheet in the workbook linked below:

Note that some words have multiple pronunciations listed. This can sometimes be contextual (ex. “The” can be pronounced at least two different ways in English), but in some cases the context was identical, but the pronunciation was different. If we want an in-setting explanation for this, we can say the transcription was taken from people with different accents. Even different energy levels or moods can affect pronunciation. But honestly, I do not know if this was intentional. There are phonetic spellings that also work their way into the Qunari romanization as well in multiple places, even with words that were previously established under other spellings.

To hear the sentences spoken, plug one into an IPA synthesizer, though be warned: it’ll be a little janky, and a little jarringly American. I don’t actually think this is what the writer had in mind, but this is what they gave us, so I’d like to make it clear why we prefer using the IPA.

I’ve also created an inventory of the sounds in these excerpts, formatted as we would for phonemic and phonological inventories: a chart of the IPA used, and a list of what letters make which sounds. When the list includes something like /x~y~z/, means that the letter can be pronounced as x, y, or z in the wild. When there's a letter with no pronunciation, it means that it's in some sort of Qunlat somewhere, but it wasn't in these examples.

And I have to reiterate: I've reproduced the implied pronunciations from WoT vol.2 as faithfully as I can, but these pronunciations do not accurately reflect the actual way the words have been spoken in the games! You can compare performances to phrases or words in here, and note the difference in pronunciation and stress patterns. 

So, as before, I say to you: if you prefer a different pronunciation, use it. If you want to systematize that pronunciation, organize it and save it for reference, then use the IPA to help you. I can speak from experience, it will save you a lot of trouble if you note down your language work in IPA, rather than assuming you’ll remember your own pronunciation later. Go forth, and have fun with it.

Next time! Finally, the meat of a language: grammar.

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Footnotes

(1) Okay. I don't have enough material to make a full post on Qunlat scripts, so I'm going to just throw it in here, with a further digression about Common as a bonus. In brief: We have no consistent script for Qunlat. There's one in Those Who Speak which... it's okay? Reminds me a bit of Lontara or an Ulu script, but it doesn't have aesthetic cohesion. Inquisition uses another possible script on decorative horn coverings, which... It exists. I'll tell you right now, I'm working on creating a written script for Qunlat for personal use, and I'm not using either of these.

With regards to Common: the games usually seem to indicate that the Common Tongue is written in a runic script, which is not meant to be read by the players.

In Inquisition we have a weird split, courtesy of Varric's romance novels: Tales of the Champion, which the wiki says is "written in Orlesian", is just in English, and... backwards English on the facing page. It's in tiny squint-o-vision, but it is actually about Kirkwall's history and Hightown, and doesn't seem to be a copy-and-paste from anywhere else in the games. Cool!

But there's another book in the series with Aveline on the cover, which is very different. There's a new runic script there, which is mostly composed of rotations on actual runes, but they don't actually line up with any historical runic script. but there's not enough text available to see if it translates into anything. There's a bit that looks like it's supposed to be Varric's name that might give us the letters "V Te(th)ras", but none of those letters are in the title, so we have nothing else to compare to. The script is okay, but there's some letters I'd alter for visual consistency--runes were generally written using different combinations of just three line angles that remained as consistent as possible throughout a text. There's a letter in here that's just a triangle, and it doesn't fit the angles of the other letters at all. That triangle haunts me.

Here's the thing, though. There's also a couple books from Inquisition that I can tell were just straight-up written in an Anglo-Saxon rune font, then flipped upside down, which reminds me quite a bit of a certain web series I could mention. It's a short, non-canon English text repeated in different paragraph format, with some gibberish thrown in. I wasn't going to bother reading any of it once I realized it wasn't anything canon, but then I noticed there's a rogue "c" that appears to have survived the font change. Most runic scripts have no equivalent of "c", but Anglo-Saxon does, so I realized that had to be a capital C. And that's when I read:

"...that this is *not* the Cirth (Certhas) but the..."

Cirth is the writing system Tolkien made for Sindarin, Khuzdul, and Westron.

I think what we're looking at is part of the setting documentation, basically saying, like, 'we want the Common Tongue to look like Cirth, but not actually be Cirth because the legal department told us not to'.

(2) Many of these IPA-to-text things are language-specific. They’re only loaded with the sounds that are used in the language they were created for–so for this one, stick to english text-to-speech IPA synthesizers. Also, you will definitely note accent differences between different synthesizers, even when given the same input! Some of that is due to dialect-specific restrictions on what sounds they pronounce, but there's also smaller distinctions that the IPA is capable of reflecting, but in practice we don't transcribe things with 100% precision.

(3) Of course there’s the caveat that the IPA is based off of the Latin alphabet to begin with, so it makes the most sense to people who already use some form of it. One of the problems is that alphabets are actually uniquely suited to the task of phonetic writing, for reasons I’ll eventually get into. But I’m not actually aware of any equivalents that have been constructed for use with other alphabets or scripts, beyond a number of neography hobbyists (for Kannada, Arabic, etc.), including that one tumblr user who scared off an insufferable dude in a coffee shop by talking about the IPA equivalent they were making that was somewhat based off of the Georgian alphabet. That person is incredible.

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[cannibaldaughter]

man I wish tumblr existed for religious clergy in the early to mid 1600s

2 notes

✝️ forGodsolovedtheworld follow

does anyone else think pope Urban VIII is kinda hot

#please don’t let my monseigneur see this I’m trying to avoid having to go on another week long fast

0 notes

📿 catholicam-et-apostolicam-ecclesian follow

omg I can’t believe I have to say this but DNI if you have ever read the King James Bible 🙄 Jesus clearly said that priests are meant to be a continuation of his disciples ministry on earth and spread the word to the people, NOT that the people were supposed to interpret the word themselves! Besides king james is problematic

🔁 saintpeterstan follow

wait what did king James do I’m so out of the loop

🔁 catholicam-et-apostolicam-ecclesian follow

he’s literally anglican

#i hate all Protestants if you’re Protestant DNI. #you guys are the reason we don’t have indulgences anymore which means I have to be POOR FOREVER. #agostino speaks

20 notes

🤴kingjamesofengland follow

call me crazy but I think common people who don’t speak Latin should be able to have a relationship with the divine without needing a priest to tell them how to do so

🔁 catholicam-et-apostolicam-ecclesian follow

if you’re too poor to attend seminary just say that

🔁 kingjamesofengland follow

IM LITERALLY THE KING OF THREE COUNTRIES

🔁 catholicam-et-apostolicam-ecclesian follow

L + ratio + I didn’t ask + you’re a sodomite + you’re Protestant + you’re inbred

#agostino speaks #im going to make up a new slur just for protestants… #queue tolis pecata mundi

20,000 notes

⛪️ servite-sister-of-florence follow

do you guys think miriam and zipporah ever explored each other’s bodies

#unrelated but does anyone get a warm sensation in their stomach when they look at statues of mary

4 notes

[moltenwrites]

OC QUESTIONNAIRE TAG GAME

Haven’t done a tag game in a while eh? Sorry about that, life’s been a lil silly lately, I haven’t had time ( or energy ) to do much here lately, but I’ll try to be better!

Thanks @the-golden-comet @willtheweaver and @thatuselesshuman for the tag! This game is simple, just answer the questions from your character(s) perspective. I’ll be answering from Res, Salazar, and Asims perspective today.

Who do you trust the most?

Res - Lyra. Shes been nothing but loyal.

Salazar - I’ve had my trust broken one too many times. I once trusted Fabio with my life, and you can see how that turned out.

Asim - Myself. Even Astera, I can’t trust her with everything. Maybe someday.

Where would you live, if you could choose?

Res - As far away from this shithole as possible. I’d love to live in a kingdom with no connection to ours.

Salazar - Well- I haven’t thought of this much, I don’t often have the ability to settle down. But Itchzak has always been my home, so there.

Asim - Anywhere Astera is happy would make me happy, but if she was open to it, I would like somewhere more rural, though still with a good population.

What keeps you motivated?

Res - I can’t let Exodus get away with it.

Salazar - To make this world fair, its abhorrent way of treating those that call it home is unacceptable. And I am the only one who appears to have the power to fix it.

Asim - In my art, it was the first day I met Astera. I scaled up my projects after I met her, something about her just- no, I can’t discuss this now. I hope my answer was sufficient!

What is your dream job?

Res - I’ve never had a green thumb, but a life as a farmer, or perhaps an artist, would be peaceful. I think that could be nice.

Salazar - Ruling. It is the only way I can change this world

Asim - A painter of course! I love the arts, though I must admit my skills are subpar?

What do you plan for the future?

Res - To make it to tomorrow.

Salazar - If I can, I’d love to make a truly fair world. Currently, I must try to reclaim the throne.

Asim - Uh, well I know it’s a bit sudden, and it is embarrassing, but marrying Astera would make me happy to a degree I find unthinkable.

How many languages can you speak?

Res - 1. Education was never Itchzaks strong suit, and we couldn’t afford it even if it was available.

Salazar - I find force to be the most effective language, but I only speak in English.

Asim - I took Latin in college, though I must admit I’m a bit rusty.

What is one hobby you have that may surprise others?

Res - I don’t have much time for hobbies anymore, but I used to cook for fun on occasion

Salazar - I’ve never quite had the talent, but music has always been fascinating to me!

Asim - I write the occasional poem!

What is one possession you wouldn’t part with, no matter what?

Res - My knife, it was a gift from someone I lost, and it is a reminder to keep living.

Salazar - I find gifts to be fleeting. Once you lose your body, you find that there is not much you must hold on to

Asim - Astera bought me a paintbrush, I couldn’t bear to lose that, at least not before I use it.

What is one supernatural ability you wish you had?

Res - To speak to the dead, there are some people I just need to talk to one more time-

Salazar - Well, aside from the power to correct this world, mind reading would be a blessing. It would greatly help to judge intent in fairness.

Asim - Healing, it would help me in nearly all aspects of my life.

How long does it take before you trust someone?

Res - I probably trust easier than I should, but the people in my life have been overwhelmingly kind.

Salazar - As I recited earlier, I have had my trust broken too many times. Never again.

Asim - I don’t think I’ve trusted anyone fully yet. Trust can push them away.

How bad do you feel about lying to others?

Res - Its a necessary evil, I don’t mind all too much.

Salazar - I am a man of my word, I find lying to be quite unfair

Asim - Sometimes it’s better for people to be left in the dark.

What is one good you could always eat and never get tired of?

Res - I like steak a lot, I don’t get to have it often, but from those moments I could eat it every day.

Salazar - Hm, well as odd as it sounds, I’ve always found grapes delectable.

Asim - I always liked pork chops, they have such a perfect flavor when seasoned correctly!

Annnd that’s all of em, wow that took a minute! If you wanna do this,here are your questions!

1. What place means the most to you?

2. What is the most fun you’ve ever had?

3. Have you ever been betrayed?

Tag list, let me know if you wanna be added or removed

@thatuselesshuman @ddgraywrites @juliana-jones @revenantlore @aintgonnatakethis

@yourpenpaldee @illarian-rambling @autism-purgatory @gioiaalbanoart @the-letterbox-archives

@theverumproject @noxxytocin @joseph-hooser @mk-writes-stuff @yrndrgn

@theslpr

+ Open, as always

[jextell2514]

Hi! Tal here! If you’re feeling inspired to write anything please do! if you need any inspiration I really like your Amber time travel au and also the Jarra and Amber swap. But whatever’s on your mind is good!

ummm for fic recs I’ll read most fics if they’re in a fandom I’m in. Ummm really angst and fluffy stuff is fun! I love hurt/comfort and character studies. I like canon divergence best as an au setting! Esp crossovers idk why lol.

thanks for offering to do this btw!

Of course! Honestly I mostly just wanted some external motivation lol so thanks for providing!

I've been thinking lately about the Jarra and Amber swap because I was talking about it with someone IRL, and I think I actually do want to acknowledge the language barrier because of the angst potential. The snippet I already wrote would probably change a little but not too much because I headcanon that Jarra (like the nerd she is) actually learned English, kinda like how some people learn Latin today. So does Fian, although that's more for plot convenience.

Amber, however, most definitely does not speak Language.

I woke up and looked around wildly. I was in an unfamiliar room, with a strange man sitting by the side of the bed I was in. What had happened? Where was I? Adika wouldn't have let just anyone come to see me, and he certainly wouldn't have let me be taken--

Then I remembered. The package from my mother. Opening it. The voice in my head. The crystal cage, trying to crush me out of existence as my three-year-old self took over my life.

I wasn't in the crystal cage anymore, but I wasn't in my unit either. That meant the imprint was removed, and I was awake, but... since I wasn't in my unit, it might be too late to escape.

The stranger was saying something, but it sounded like gibberish, and I knew it must be the language of another Hive. Elden's Hive.

This man couldn't be Elden, because he didn't look anything like Forge, but he must be working with him to kidnap me to his Hive.

The stranger repeated the same gibberish phrase, but more urgently.

I decided to play clueless. If I could get some privacy, I might be able to call someone for help, explain that I hadn't requested this transfer of my own free will.

"Where am I?" I asked.

The man's eyes widened in apparent concern. He said another incomprehensible word, then tilted his head at me in a questioning motion.

"Where am I? What happened?" I said, frustrated. Not only had they kidnapped me, they couldn't even bother to translate somehow?

He pursed his lips, then pulled something off his sleeve that looked almost like a dataview but wasn't. Maybe they had different dataviews here.

He waited in silence until a blonde boy, about my age, came rushing in, and exclaimed a single word. "Jarra!" Perhaps that was the man's name? The man stopped him from coming right up to me, and they began talking to each other in their language.

Eventually, I gave in to my irritation and said, "What is going on?!"

The boy paused and looked at me. Then, finally, he said something that I could actually understand. "Why are you speaking English?"

"You haven't exactly deigned to imprint me with your language yet," I said acidly, and regretted it. Lucas had said that imprints could damage my telepathy, and I had seen in his thoughts just how vital I was to the Hive.

The boy's brows furrowed. "I'm guessing... Jarra, you don't remember me?"

"My name's not Jarra."

[mrscorcoran]

One more secret won't hurt / Bunny x reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 5: The shores of Metahemeralism

My curiosity gets the best of me, and I take a seat one table closer than I was last time. I’m still carrying the damn Frankenstein book around, the essay still unwritten, so I take it out, both to look less like a stalker and to actually try to do some reading. Most of them are quietly reading as well, except of course for Bunny, who’s talking Henry’s ear off about yet another thing I know nothing about. Thanks to Judy now I can put a name to all their faces, but it only makes me feel even more like a stalker, knowing trivial details about these people I’ve never even spoken to.

Henry seems quite amused by whatever Bunny is saying, his eyes going back and forth between Bunny and the paper he’s holding in his hands. I look down at my book and try to eavesdrop as discreetly as possible.

- “I tell you; this might be my best paper yet. Julian is gonna be all over it when I turn it in,” Bunny’s excited words cut through the silence in the library.

- “Bunny, I’m still not sure ‘Metahemeralism’ actually exists…” says Henry, shuffling between the few sheets of paper in his hands. “Also, why does it look like this? What’s up with all the space?”

- “Huh? Oh! Well, it needed to be five pages long, so I triple spaced it, pretty smart, huh?” I can hear Henry snort and look I up to see him covering him mouth with a hand, trying to remain composed. He lets out a small chuckle. In all the times I’ve seen them around campus, I’ve never seen Henry smile once, let alone laugh.

- “Hey B, you want me to take a look at it? See if it needs any corrections?” Francis offers from behind his pince-nez. I’ve never seen anyone wearing pince-nez in real life. I’m not sure they even make them anymore, so I wonder if he’s wearing an antique pair or if maybe he had them custom made. They just add to his quirky charm. Judy was right. Now that I’m closer I can see he’s indeed very handsome.

- “Nah, don’t worry about it. I just want to turn it in and be done with it. Plus, it took me 2 weeks to write, so I’m pretty sure it’s a masterpiece.” Bunny says, triumphantly.

- “What was it, again? ‘Methemeralism’ I mean,” asks who I assume is Richard, the one Judy likes.

- “It’s ‘Metahemeralism,’” Bunny corrects confidently. “Comes from Latin, it has to do with irony and the pastoral.” They all looked up at him, dumbfounded. I’ve read hundreds of books throughout my life, both for school and for fun, and I’ve never heard about Metahemeralism either.

- “Bun, wasn’t the paper meant to be about John Donne? Are you sure you didn’t mean ‘metaphysicalism’ or something?” Camilla asks sweetly, genuine concern in her eyes, as she closes her book, one finger sandwiched between the pages as a bookmark.

- “Oh, John Donne, John Schmone. I did mention him a couple times, but the star of the paper is definitely Metahemeralism. It’s the glue between the poet and the fisherman!” he speaks with his hands, as much as with his voice; he waves them around and then brings them together, interlocking his fingers, as if they’re the poet and the fisherman being glued together, whatever the hell that means.

- “Let me take a look at that,” says Charles, yanking the paper from Henry’s hands. He skims the paper for a few seconds, and suddenly bursts out laughing. Bunny’s glaring at him, clearly offended by the reaction. “‘And as we leave Donne and Walton on the shores of Metahemeralism, we wave a fond farewell to those famous chums of yore,’” he reads off the paper. “Bunny, you’re right, this is a masterpiece,” he wipes a tear from his cheek, and hands the paper back to Bunny, with a soft pat on his shoulder. The others are all fighting their own personal battles not to burst out laughing. Bunny seems unsure if Charles was being sarcastic or not.

- “Well, we’ll see if Julian likes it, he’s gonna be the one grading it after all,” he says, with a nonchalant little smile. “I’m gonna put the masterpiece away now, unless anyone else wants to take a look at it.”

- “Could I take a look at it?” the new voice startles me at first, but I am completely frozen when I realize it’s coming from me. The six of them fix their eyes on me, just as startled by my interruption. I make eye contact with Bunny and immediately feel my knees betraying me, but I do my best to remain stoic. I’m not sure where the confidence came from when I spoke up, but it certainly abandoned me after the damage was done. Several seconds pass before anyone says anything. From the corner of my eye, I’m pretty sure I see Camilla giggling and sharing a look with Francis.

- “Uh… Sure. Here you go,” he finally answers, extending his arm and offering me the paper. I stand up, walk the few steps that separate our tables, and take the paper carefully with the tips of my fingers, careful not to wrinkle any corners or smudge the ink. He looks confused by my interest in his paper, but still gives me a smile.

He stands there while I quickly read through the paper. It doesn’t take too long, considering he really did triple space it. I feel everyone’s eyes staring at me, expectantly. The paper is a bit all over the place, touching on many topics without actually concluding anything relevant. It could be a good draft; it just needs a little more work connecting the ideas to each other. I’m still unsure if Metahemeralism is even a word, but it’s definitely an interesting read. I reach the end and I find myself smiling widely at the paper.

- “So…?” His voice breaks my trance, and I look up at him startled. “Did you like it? What did you think?” It feels like they are all holding their breaths, waiting for my answer. I suck at speaking in public, or under pressure, or both at the same time, so I take a deep breath to avoid stammering once I begin speaking.

- “I did like it,” I confirm. “I would work on it a little more to connect the ideas more smoothly, but it has potential. I’m not a classics major though, so don’t take me too seriously.”  I realize my mistake a second too late and hope they won't notice and ask how I knew their major. I chuckle nervously and hand the paper back to him.

- “What’s your major?” Camilla asks from her seat, right in front of me. Her big eyes staring at me, making me feel almost as weak as Bunny’s.

- “I’m a literature major.”

- “WHAT?! A lit major! Of course I’m gonna take your opinion seriously!” yells Bunny, beaming at me. Just as expected, his energy is contagious. I beam right back at him. “Nice to meet you, I’m Bunny,” he extends his hand to me. I look at it for a second before I realize I’m supposed to shake it.

- “Oh, right. I’m Y/N,” I shake his hand. “Nice to meet everyone,” I add, feeling their eyes still on me.

- “That’s Henry, and Richard. Over there is Francis, and these are Charles and Camilla,” he points to each of his friends, and I pretend I didn’t already know all their names. A wave of ‘Heys’ and ‘Hellos’ erupts from the group.

- “Whatcha got there?” asks Camilla, and I see her eyes are on my hands. I’m still carrying the damn book, still very unread.

- “Oh, I have to write a paper on Frankenstein and it has to be original and revolutionary so I was trying to re-read it to see if I could come up with anything, but my brain is still blank.”

- “Original? About Frankenstein?” Francis scoffs, rolling his eyes. “They should’ve assigned you a less ancient book if they wanted something original.”

- “That’s exactly what I said!” I exclaim, happy to have someone agree with me, though it comes out more as an excited shriek. Camilla and Francis giggle again, and I feel my cheeks blushing. “Well, I’ll let you all get back to your stuff-” I start saying, feeling bad about interrupting the group of strangers, but Camilla grabs my wrist. I look down at her, confused.

- “Wait, no. Sit down. Maybe we can all brainstorm some revolutionary ideas about Frankenstein, we’ve all read it, I’m sure,” she says, dragging her chair to the left and pulling up another chair from a nearby table, between her and Francis. She winks at me and takes the book from my hands, skimming through a few pages. There's no way I can say no now, so I just take a seat. 

They all start throwing random ideas at me. Most of them are definitely not original, stuff about the novel that has been overanalyzed for 2 centuries already. I still write everything down, every idea counts. Maybe I can combine some parts of an idea with bits of another, and create a new, better idea. I see the irony as soon as the thought crosses my mind.

Through all the chaos and voices speaking over one another, I try my best not to look directly at Bunny for too long, scared of giving them the wrong impression. Now that I’ve spoken to him and everything seems less mysterious, less unreachable, I can finally stop overfocusing on it.

Half an hour later I have a rough draft of what my essay could be about. Henry suggested I analyze what the book would’ve looked like if it had been written by Percy instead of Mary; and Francis suggested I analyze how society would’ve responded to the book if it had been written by a man instead of a woman. I’m not sure how original it actually is, but I’ve never read anything from this perspective, so that’s good enough!

- “Thanks guys. I’ve been trying to write this fucking essay for like a week,” I say, putting the book along with a bunch of crumbled up papers with discarded ideas, into my bag. “And Bunny, thank you for letting me read your paper,” I say, turning to him.

- “Nah, thank you for reading it!” he says, smiling broadly at me. “I’d love to hear some of those ideas to make it smoother sometime…” he casually adds.

- “Sure thing, anytime you want,” I say, writing down on one of the discarded pieces of paper. “Here’s my number, just let me know.” I look at the rest of them, “You can all save it to your phones, in case you need help with anything literature related,” I add, before turning away towards the exit. A wave of ‘Thank yous’ and ‘Byes’ flowing behind me.

Outside the library, I breathe in a mouthful of fresh air. I feel my shoulders lighter already. I knew I only needed to find the courage to speak to them to chase that overwhelming mess of thoughts out of my brain. I remember what Judy said about them when I first asked, and I could definitely see some of it firsthand, like Henry’s seriousness, yet I couldn’t help but liking them all. Sure, they’re a bit strange, but then again, so am I, I guess. There’s one thing Judy was totally right about though.... Bunny is indeed very nice.

[bethanythebogwitch]

I know I think differently than a lot of people, but it is astonishing to me that the child sex abuse scandal didn't destroy or severely damage the Catholic church (this applies to other organized religions that have similar scandals too, like Mormons, the southern baptist convention, and Jehovah's Witnesses). To me it would seem like anyone who believes in god seeing this happen would have to realize one of two possible explanations for this. Either:

A) god does not approve and therefore the Catholic church cannot actually speak for him, or

B) God either approves of child sex abuse or does not care enough to step in and stop it, which would make him undeserving of worship

But not only did nothing really end up happening to the church, it seems like most dissenters leave over stuff like not speaking Latin anymore or being slightly less horrible to gay people. Make it make sense.

Anyway, here Tim Minchin's correct take on the situation

[irelandseyeonmythology]

Dia duit! Do you happen to know of any other blogs about Irish culture and language that aren't racist about it?

Dia is Muire Duit! 

Embarrassingly, I don’t interact with all that many other people who do this sort of thing, mainly for 3 reasons: 

(1) Professional distancing -- Small field, everyone knows each other, which means that if I find anyone or anyone finds me, there’s a not-small chance that we know one another IRL. There’s a reason my palms get a little sweaty when I think about new people coming into Tumblr, and a solid portion of that’s that I don’t want....too much attention on what I do here and, especially, not on my main. (Which I know is the equivalent of holding up a meat stick to a bunch of dogs and going “DO YOU WANT THE MEAT STICK?”) I can’t really vent about my department on main anymore simply because, even though names aren’t attached to things, it’s ridiculously easy to narrow me down if you know what to do. I don’t think I’m doing anything wrong, but there’s a difference between Me On Here VS Me in a Professional Context, and it’s been difficult to try to make that sort of...shift from being a shitposting teenager to suddenly being an Academic™. (But also, I don’t want people to think I’m unapproachable, either -- rule of thumb is “Mutually Assured Destruction.” You know I’m on Tumblr, I know you’re on Tumblr, and we both never mention it.)

(2) Wanting to distance myself a little from what I do Every Day -- Posting on here and interacting with people who are willing to seek me out on here is fine, I like that, I enjoy doing it, I enjoy everyone who follows me, but it’s much more on my terms here. (Hence the inconsistent posting schedule.) When I was younger, before this was my job, I could be around it constantly, and it was a lot of fun, but now it’s like....it’s a Lot, now that it’s my actual life. I check in on the Irish Mythology tag every once in a while, but I can’t really follow it like I used to just because it’s this constant state of *engagement* for me, in a way that, say, French musicals that three people in the world like don’t have. 

Brain tired, brain needs nappy. 

(3) I’ve seen some people on here, when I’ve looked into blogs to follow be....well. Bitches. Especially re: Americans taking this on and, as an American myself who is very serious about my line of work, it does. Rather sting. (I have a lot of complex opinions on the whole business that I won’t get into now, but the tldr is that I get why people can be hesitant, especially with the borderline fetishization of Ireland in the States but, at the same time, the effect is often scaring people who have a genuine interest in this sort of thing away and, when it comes to an endangered language....the more people we have taking the time to learn it, the better.) (But also, if you imply that my degree, which I got from an *Irish* uni is worthless, the claws will come out. I made a lot of sacrifices for that....glorious....piece of poster board in Latin.)

BUT. BUT. 

I do have a few. I want to emphasize that these aren’t all the Good People who do Irish Things on Tumblr, these are just the ones, off the top of my head, I can think of. 

@trans-cuchulainn Excellent resource on the Ulster Cycle, A+ shitposts

@finnlongman Another Ulster Cycle specialist 

@ad-ciu A former colleague and friend of mine, one of the only human beings in the world I trust with Mythological Cycle content. Not on as much these days because they’re doing things like “schoolwork” and “having a life” and “getting a PhD”, but genuinely a wonderful person to follow so you can catch when they do post. 

@amylouioc Wonderful artwork inspired by medieval Irish lit, explicitly anti-racist, multicultural Tuatha Dé, Nuada is a snacc. 

@forfeda-project Another A+ art blog, am considering getting their pub shirt for Fled Bricrenn to wear at conferences. 

@bloctg4 Shitposts in the Irish language, brought to you by Ireland’s own Irish-speaking TV station (or, rather, an intern at said TV station.)

Just want to emphasize -- I definitely don’t believe these are the only non-racist Irish themed blogs on Tumblr, these are just the ones that came to mind, especially since these days I’m the social media equivalent of a hag hanging out in a little cave, sometimes poking my head out to drop a shitpost before returning, shaking my head and muttering. 

[super-hero-confessions]

I can't imagine Gamora being recast in the MCU. Zoe is fine with it, but I just can't imagine anyone else in the role. Gamora is a character amazingly written by James Gunn, but Zoe's acting is what really made the character so loved.

When Wakanda Forever came out, everyone was excited about the hispanic representation, myself included. But not enough people talk about the fact that Zoe is latina, too. Despite being born in the US, her parents are latinos and she moved to Latin America as a kid. That means the first latina in the MCU was Zoe. Sure, she wasn't giving us actual representation since she was playing an alien. But I remember being so happy, all hispanic kids were happy in 2014 to have a latina in the MCU, even those who didn't look like her. This does not undermine the beautiful job they did in Wakanda Forever but I do feel like it goes unnoticed a lot. Everyone was suddenly hyping up latinidad and hispanidad in WF and rightfully so but I feel bad because Zoe does not deserve to go overlooked. Gamora is not a latina character but she was played by the first latina in the MCU.

Any of us could have a conversation with Zoe in Spanish. We consider her a queen and I'm sure there are many talented women out there who could also make an amazing Gamora, but the thought of Zoe not being Gamora anymore brings tears to my eyes as well as many other hispanics and latinos. We adore her version of the character. Fierce, but loving, very much like actual latinas and hispanic women. There is this sense of fellowship between Spanish-speaking countries. Latin America has 21 countries and there is also Spain in Europe. We don't really fight each other like Americans do. Sure, sometimes we call Spaniards colonizers, or Mexicans mariachis or Argentinians wannabes, but it's to share a laugh. We like having a sense of humor, we make fun of ourselves and each other, we share memes, we listen to each other's musicians, we focus on what unites us rather than what divides us. We call it "hermandad". We live happier this way and one of those things we all agree on is the amazing job Zoe did as Gamora. And yes, we were very happy with what was done in Wakanda Forever, we just wish that Zoe's role as Gamora got more praise as well.

If they recast her I'm sorry but I don't think I will be interested. I am not prepared to move on from her portrayal.

[ambyandony]

Pannacotta Fugo - Monster AU Profile

Pannacotta Fugo, a completely normal human being with a completely abnormal understanding of the supernatural.

Preface about species type:

Fugo is a human being, and as such, there's not much to say in terms of species. You probably know a human. You probably are a human (I won't assume). A majority of humans (unless cursed or blessed) are not born with any innate magical properties or capabilities like some nonhumans are. Although some human beings are capable of magic, whether learnt, spiritual, religious or bestowed, Fugo simply isn't one of them, and does not practise magic, thus making him a completely normal human.

Details related to Humanity:

Being human means that he ages normally, doesn't exceed human strength, and cannot perceive magic supernaturally. Being human does have at least one advantage; a human who neither practises magic nor carries magical objects on their person cannot really be detected by magical detection senses...They're also very frequently underestimated by monsters and other humans alike.

Details about Fugo:

Just a normal human, except he's incredibly smart and incredibly bold.

Incredibly aware of nonhumans and their shenanigans, to the point where he's wildly desensitised and frankly quite sick of it sometimes. He has had it UP TO HERE with this shit.

Nothing fazes him anymore. He's fully, 100% aware that practically everyone around him is inhuman so now he just doesn't care when they do weird shit anymore. Rarely questions this shit anymore. He just Gets It now.

Knows more about nonhumans than he's ever really wanted to. Not afraid of them in the least (anymore) and is quite well-versed with a wealth of folk knowledge, a good majority of which he learnt when he was little from his Nonna.

Particularly familiar with the Gentry. He's incredibly cautious with all his wording, especially when it comes to introductions, and he knows quite a few preventative measures and deterrents, should he ever come to need them for any reason.

Far too hard to trick with snaky language. Excellent with loopholes, too-- he was studying law, for God's sake.

Audacious enough to insult nonhumans and humans to their faces pretty indiscriminately when he thinks its called for.

Not afraid to speak his mind to anyone and gets away without any repercussions, in part just due to the SHEER AUDACITY, but also because everyone knows what Buccellati will do if anything should happen to Fugo (who is definitely not his son).

Has seen most everyone's true forms (at least to the extent he's capable of perceiving) so he's just used to it. The others usually don't feel a need to disguise themselves when it's just him around.

Knows around 12 languages including, allegedly, Ancient Sumerian (don't ask) and Latin. Comedically he frequently corrects Buccellati when he tries to speak Latin. Often. It just kills him to hear any kind of grammatical errors.

Anaemic. Maybe the lack of iron in his blood is why Giorno wants it so badly...

An excellent strategist. Always thinking of contingencies and worst-case scenarios. This is also known as having anxiety.

Has never given any part of his identity to the Fae and he's not about to start now..

Has a crush on giorno...??? but he also constantly wants to fucking THROTTLE the bitch

So Giorno likes to do this thing where he changes his appearance slightly, just enough to be subconsciously noticeable, bit by bit, just to fuck with people. Problem is, Narancia also likes to do this, so when Giorno tried it on Fugo, Fugo nearly fucking jumped him.

"Buccellati you don't have to say 'be not afraid' every fucking time you wake me up at three in the fucking morning and i see your true form what the fuck do you want"

"Ah. Okay. Fine, Buccellati. Why don't I just stay out here and converse with the Devil, then? Hey, Abbacchio-" "FUGO!"

"What's your favourite colour?" "Snakes, do you like boys?"

Emotionally he's a broke college student, mentally a clever little rich boy, physically, a mess.

Neurodivergent. Autistic. Hyperfixates on a random-ass topic and then if your trust level is at 8 or higher he infodumps at you about literally every single thing he knows on the subject. Aggressively.

Wears tiny mirrors sewn into his tie. They're silver-backed, and serve the function of a sort of countermeasure against certain nonhumans. Obviously it doesn't work for every nonhuman, but if the person he's talking to just straight up doesn't appear in the the mirrors, then they're, of course, inhuman.

Has an ongoing argument with Mista regarding what kind of luck four-leaf clovers bring. For the sake of peace, they've decided that, since Fugo insists that ”four-leaf clovers are lucky" and Mista insists that "four-leaf anything is unlucky", then surely four-leaf clovers must be "absolutely no luck at all".

fugo dismayed, seconds apart: "I BROUGHT THIS CHILD [narancia] IN under FALSE PRETENCES and BOY AM I FUCKING PISSED ABOUT IT!!!" "-hey you stay away from him That is my gremlin brother bitch" "THIS IS NOT HOW MATH WORKS! WE HAVE BEEN OVER THIS YOU STUPID MOTHERFUCKER!!!!"

[news4dzhozhar]

For Former Friend of Boston Marathon Bomber, a Burden of Shame and Betrayal

**Of all the names of friends from back then, does anyone remember ever hearing this guys name before? I don't.**

BOSTON — Last year, nearly a decade after the bombing at the Boston Marathon, Youssef Eddafali wrote a letter. It had been years in the making, and he agonized over every word, but the hardest thing to figure out was the salutation.

Mr. Eddafali, 29, still was not sure who he was writing to. Was it the friend he had once thought of as a brother, whose journey as a young Muslim immigrant had seemed to mirror his own? Or the calculating killer who revealed himself on April 15, 2013, when he murdered and maimed innocent people in the name of the faith they both shared?

In the end, Mr. Eddafali concluded it was both, so he split his missive into two parts. The first he wrote to “the old Jahar,” the boy he had known. The second letter was written to a stranger. He addressed it to “The Monster.”

“Your betrayal broke me,” Mr. Eddafali wrote to Dzhokhar Tsarnaev, his former friend, who was sentenced to death in 2015 for orchestrating the bombing at the marathon finish line with his older brother, Tamerlan. Tamerlan Tsarnaev died in a gun battle with police four days later; Dzhokhar Tsarnaev remains on death row.

Three people were killed by the bombs loaded with nails and ball bearings that the brothers had made: Lingzi Lu, 23, a graduate student from China; Krystle Campbell, 29, a restaurant manager from Medford, Mass.; and Martin Richard, an 8-year-old from Boston. Seventeen lost limbs and more than 250 were injured in the bombing, which led to a dramatic four-day manhunt that shut down the city; the brothers also shot and killed a campus police officer. An unknown number of spectators, runners and emergency responders still experience emotional trauma from that day.

Another group of people, Mr. Eddafali among them, were affected in a different way: They had known Dzhokhar Tsarnaev and considered him a friend. Many were young people in high school or college, on the cusp of adulthood, when the bombing abruptly turned the world they knew into a frightening and unfamiliar place.

Ten years later, as a changed city pauses to honor those who died and reflect on the passage of time, some of those who knew the Tsarnaev brothers still struggle to define how the experience changed them. A decade after they were plunged into guilt, anger, betrayal and shame, they know one thing: There will be no reconciling their before and after, no understanding how or why.

It is a dissonance felt in the wake of every mass shooting, by those who discover to their horror that they know the killer.

“I watch what people say every time it happens — that they had no idea — and I recognize it, because I’ve been there, too,” said Larry Aaronson, 82, who lived on the same street as the Tsarnaev family and taught history at Cambridge Rindge and Latin High School, where Mr. Eddafali and Dzhokhar Tsarnaev, known as “Jahar,” graduated.

There is little research examining the psychic toll on people who had been close to those who kill. The marginality of their position — close to tragedy but connected to its source — can be alienating, stranding them on the outside as their communities gather to heal, and making it feel unsafe or insensitive to discuss their own baffling experience. A dozen people who knew Dzhokhar Tsarnaev declined to speak to a reporter even a decade later, or did not respond to requests for interviews.

“There’s an element of guilt by association, and a weird dichotomy, because the person they knew doesn’t exist anymore,” said Jaclyn Schildkraut, a researcher who has studied mass shootings and is executive director of the Regional Gun Violence Research Consortium at the Rockefeller Institute of Government.

The experience “is like being knocked into a parallel universe,” she added, “and you can’t get back.”

For friends who were also Muslim immigrants, the consequences have been even more jarring.

Mr. Eddafali and his family had immigrated to the United States from Morocco in 1999, when he was 6, and he spent years reconciling his Muslim faith with his emerging American identity. A standout basketball player in high school, the boy who had endured ethnic slurs and playground bullying after the Sept. 11 attacks now proudly heard classmates chant his name at games. He found he could navigate fluidly among students of different races and backgrounds, an interlude that felt magical.

“When you found the pocket,” he said of that time, “it was bliss.”

Beside him in the pocket was his friend Jahar, the sociable wrestling team captain who had come to the United States with his family from Kyrgyzstan in 2002, when he was 8, and also knew the challenge and the triumph of acceptance. They had met in middle school, when both were becoming chameleons, Mr. Eddafali said, honoring their families’ Muslim faith at home while maintaining separate lives as fully American teenagers.

They trained as lifeguards together, worked together at the Harvard pool, partied with their “boys” beside the Charles River. Both were well-liked, athletic, bound for college, examples of the immigrant success story that progressive, multicultural Cambridge loves to tell.

Until all at once, one of them wasn’t.

So unfathomable was Dzhokhar Tsarnaev’s violent turn that many of his friends did not believe it, even when photos of the brothers flooded the media a few days after the bombing.

Small moments in their shared history made the news seem inconceivable. The lunches he bought classmates who were short on cash. The pep talks he gave teammates when they hit the wall. Even in college, where he failed classes and sold drugs, Jahar still encouraged friends, they said, urging one to develop her talent for drawing in art school.

For Mr. Eddafali, seeing his friend’s face on TV felt like “10,000 volts of electricity coursing through my body,” he later wrote. He felt unmoored by thoughts of the dead and wounded, and, as the truth sank in, by thoughts of Jahar packing a backpack with explosives and dropping it discreetly on a sidewalk packed with families.

“My trust in other people was shattered,” Mr. Eddafali said, “and I couldn’t trust myself, for allowing a sociopath to get so close.”

In Cambridge, where the diverse, ambitious public high school fuels countless American dreams, residents recoiled from the revelation of homegrown terrorism. After Mr. Aaronson, still in shock, spoke to reporters about the seemingly sweet-natured teenager he had known, the retired teacher said he felt stung by a disapproving backlash and feared he had sacrificed his reputation.

“I felt like a pariah,” he said. “People wanted to repress it and forget it, and I thought we needed to talk about it. I had such a deep sense of betrayal.”

If much of the city could choose to set aside its tie to the brothers, Mr. Eddafali did not have that luxury. The F.B.I. soon came to interrogate the stunned 19-year-old about his knowledge of the bombing. His phone was tapped and his movements tracked, he said. Across Boston and Cambridge, other Muslims also faced renewed suspicion and scrutiny, and continuing surveillance, according to advocates.

Mr. Eddafali resumed his studies at Bentley University, outside Boston, in the fall of 2013, but federal investigators came to question him again in November. He appealed to his professors for empathy and flexibility, he said, but failed his exams when neither was granted. His G.P.A. plummeted, and he dropped out of college, amplifying his feelings of shame.

Back at home he spiraled lower, plagued by depression, anxiety, insomnia, stomach ulcers. Constantly worried that others might find him suspicious or threatening, he stopped wearing backpacks and baseball caps, worn by the Tsarnaevs on the day of the bombing, to minimize any resemblance. He felt just as lost as he had at 7, when he could not find a path to self-acceptance after 9/11.

“The separation between me and the rest of the world was chasmic,” he said.

Years later, he expressed his anger at that damage in his letter to the imprisoned Tsarnaev: “Your actions scorched the blooming trust between Muslims and non-Muslims a decade after 9/11,” he wrote. “You grabbed a branding iron and scarred each and every one of us again.”

Mr. Eddafali said he considered suicide, but in time, sought help instead, finding solace in therapy, prayer and meditation, and in taking better care of himself. Someone suggested he try keeping a journal.

“Your betrayal broke me,” Mr. Eddafali wrote to the convicted killer he once considered a brother.

As soon as he began to write, in 2015, he had glimpses of clarity, he said, moments when his feelings did not overwhelm him. It was as if he had been “walking around with an immense weight, and I didn’t know how to put it down.” He filled dozens of pages, energized by a new goal: to tell a different story about being Muslim, in hopes of rebuilding empathy and trust.

“When I put it outside of me, I could observe it in nuanced ways,” he said. “I could release it and go on with my life.”

Others have been moved by a similar impulse. John “Derf” Backderf, a graphic novelist who wrote a book about his high school friendship with Jeffrey Dahmer, who became a notorious serial killer, said he felt driven to explain the staggering impact the revelation of Dahmer’s crimes had on him.

“With the snap of a finger, my entire personal history was rewritten. You can’t imagine how disorienting that was,” Mr. Backderf wrote in an email. “What had been a silly and (mostly) fun high school experience was now dark and disturbing.”

Now staying with friends in southeast Asia while finishing the final chapters of his memoir, Mr. Eddafali has a title, a cover and a Kickstarter campaign to fund its production.

Finally looking ahead after a decade, he said he wants to go back to college, finish his degree and pursue a career as a filmmaker. “I had to get back to the person I was,” he said. “But now I’m ready, because now I have a voice.”

He mailed his letter to his former friend last year as another step in his own healing, with no hope of receiving a reply. The convicted bomber has been held since 2015 at a “supermax” federal prison near Florence, Colo., and is currently appealing his death sentence for a second time.

Asked if he would have become a writer if he had never known Dzhokhar Tsarnaev, Mr. Eddafali grew animated. “No, no, no; hell, no,” he said, eyes wide. “I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.”

Like Mr. Backderf, who said he still switches between his original high school memories and the darker “rewritten history,” Mr. Eddafali has come to terms with his own parallel realities.

Tracey Gordon, a teacher in Cambridge who remembers Dzhokhar Tsarnaev as a model student in her fifth- and sixth-grade classrooms, put it simply.

“Both things are true,” she said. “We want everything to make sense, and it just can’t.”

[licncourt]

do you have any opinions on robert fagles as a translator?

Oh classics questions!! Awesome, thank you!!

I don't have any particular beef with Fagles, I'd say he's in the same category for me as someone like Richmond Lattimore. They're kind of the standard for translation, usually what profs assign for undergrad in particular.

Fagles does a good job I think, he's pretty faithful to the source material (though I can only speak for the Latin texts here) without a lot of artistic license but enough energy and creativity to keep it interesting. I like him more than Lattimore who is getting a little outdated in my opinion.

I'd say he's not my go-to anymore since I think we've kind of exhausted the well as far as the straight white man perspective on classics, but he's a solid starting point for anyone who's overwhelmed by options or needs a reliable, easily referenced translation for study.

[dumbfinntales]

It's funny that no matter the community there's always some kind of beef or drama. I've been studying Latin for almost 3 years now and frequent the Latin subreddit. I'm sorry you have to find out that I use Reddit like this. But seriously speaking that subreddit has been a great resource in my learning and I've learned a lot through it.

But sadly not even a small niche community like that is drama free. It's a bit of a weird place full of hobbyist and genuine Latinists and scholars. There's a lot of fighting between people who like the grammar translation method of learning Latin, and some who advocate comprehensive input. And the fights can get pretty heated, ultimately ending in snarky replies or straight up insults. People take their Latin learning very seriously. More rambling below.

I learned Latin through a combination method, I did get the Lingua Latina Per Se Illustrata books, but I also studied and read up a lot about grammar. Latintutorial on Youtube was a big help! But most of my learning has been through various videos on youtube and reading a lot. That's what comprehensible input is, you just gotta interact with the language as much as possible. Grammar translation from what I get isn't exactly reading it's like solving a puzzle trying to identify each word and their form. That's how Latin has been learned and taught in the past few hundred years. No one seems to care about Latin as a language.

I've seen some extreme opinions that since Latin is dead you shouldn't care about how it's pronounced or its fine details, doing that is cringe and you're a larping nerd. A couple weeks back I saw a guy insulting anyone who wanted to speak Latin "properly", saying you're a pretentious twat if you roll your R's. And today I saw people getting heated up about macrons. Macrons mark long vowels and are important especially when you start out Latin. For example: malum and malum. Do you know the difference? If so where does the long vowel go? What are the two words? Maybe the malum malum example is too stereotypical, but it makes the point. In Latin if you see two identical words the difference between them will always be the long vowel somewhere, but if you don't use macrons how'd you know?

I do agree that once you know Latin well enough macrons aren't necessary anymore. Except with new words I guess. Finnish makes long vowels easy because they're always marked by two back to back vowels. The difference between tuli (fire) and tuuli (wind). Alright that's my Latin ramble, I'm not trying to make any point. People are weird, no matter what community they're a part of. It is what it is!