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#french makes it so whenever i have to make a gendered verb or adjective i switch between them
zealfruity · 2 months
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ATTEND
did you ever watch any TCW with the french audio
If not, IT IS FUNNY
Par exemple, nôtre adoré: Fives. Son nom. Il change pendant la série. La choix intélligente, c'est "Cinq", raison? TU PENSERAIS, MAIS NON.
D'abord, il s'appelait Carré de Cinqs JE LE JURE c'est BIZZARE c'est FOU parce que quand s7 est arrivée BAM il était "Fives" encore.
ABSOLUTE MADNESS with that lad. I gotta watch more of that.
I NEVER DID NO, THATS SO SILLY
J’ai juste entendue des clips ici et là, dans quelques edits et quand j’ai voulu entendre les voix en français pour le fun.
I’m going to watch it in French this is making me lose it. Carré de Cinq, mon clone préféré ❤️ Mon pookie dearest ❤️
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vintage-bentley · 4 months
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Dunno if it makes things easier, but from my personal experience, in russian dubs Muriel and other female non-human characters are referred to as she/her (it's also not just the pronouns, but adjectives and verbs as well 'cause our language is extremely gendered).
Some studios that are trying to play along with gender nonsense end up using he/him which creates a dissonance so obvious nobody buys it, lmao
Whenever I get sick of general gender-worship in GO fandom, I find reprieve in russian-speaking fandom spaces, because most people there still recognise Beelzebub, Muriel, and others as female characters, and in general nobody gonna harass anyone for "wrong-speak".
I know that in many other dubs non-human female characters are also unambiguously female, and it got me thinking about whether people from other non-english-speaking fandom spaces are as obsessed with gender bs as english-speaking fans or not. Language shapes the way we think, after all.
I’ve heard about that with other heavily gendered languages too! Cue that screenshot of nonbinary being translated into Spanish and getting two results, one “masculine” and one “feminine” result lol.
I can’t imagine seeing any of the female characters on screen and trying to think of them as male. Isn’t it funny how that kind of shows how male is considered the default? Because if a character is supposedly nonbinary and you need to give them gendered pronouns, wouldn’t she/her be just as acceptable? Why is it so offensive to call a female character she/her?
You have a really good point about perspectives changing based on language. I wouldn’t be surprised if non-English speakers are much less concerned with what gendered labels to use for themselves…but also I know that there’s a push with Spanish and French speakers for gender-neutral pronouns to be introduced.
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pellucidity-is-me · 3 years
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Peter Pettigrew and Latin
Summary: Final installment in my Marauders and Latin series. Part 4, but works as a one-shot. I’m working through each Marauders’ relationship with Latin, and this is Peter Pettigrew. I’m also writing a very long story about the Marauders’ years at Hogwarts—you can find the link on my blog description!
Wordcount: 2111
Peter Pettigrew doesn't really ever find out what Latin is.
And he doesn't really care, to be honest.
The first time he has an actual conversation about the language is in the dormitory with Remus Lupin, who is Peter's best friend. They both adore James and Sirius, of course, but they can recognize that they're the underdogs. They aren't as loud and brash and bold as their dark-haired counterparts. It's always been James-and-Sirius, and then Remus-and-Peter. Remus and Peter are the afterthoughts, but that's okay.
Well, that's what Remus says, anyhow, but Peter knows the truth.
It's actually closer to James-and-Sirius and Remus, and also Peter. Remus and James are close because James loves having someone ill to take care of (and Remus is always poorly, for reasons unknown). Remus and Sirius are close because Sirius loves to vent about his parents, and Remus is a very good listener. Peter and Remus are close because they're similar (again: Remus says so, but Peter thinks he's just being kind). Remus has special and separate bonds with each of the other Marauders, but Peter is only close to Remus.
And it's so annoying. Peter spends more time around Sirius and James than Remus ever will. Remus is either ill or visiting his ill mother all the time. Remus doesn't join in on some of their more boisterous pranks. Remus sometimes prefers to spend time in the library rather than with his friends. It's Peter who gets into trouble for the sake of James and Sirius. It's Peter who claps for James when he does a fancy trick on his broom—Remus either reads a book or teases him. It's Peter who spends as much time as he can with James and Sirius, and Remus who is only their friend when he feels like it. So why is Peter still treated as an add-on? It's not fair.
Peter doesn't resent Remus, though. How could he? Remus is kind to Peter when nobody else is. Remus talks to Peter when nobody else will. Peter is always Remus' first choice, and that means the world.
James and Sirius are in a detention today, and Peter is doing schoolwork with Remus. They're talking about spells, and Remus says something about Latin roots. "What are Latin roots?" says Peter. "Are they like tree roots?"
Remus doesn't laugh, even though James and Sirius might've. He leans forward slightly and his eyes light up, just as they always do when Remus gets excited about something (they didn't used to, but now they do. Peter wonders what's changed). "It's a language," says Remus, "a very, very old language." He presses his lips together, and Peter knows that he's about to make a joke. "Older than Professor Dumbledore, even."
Peter laughs, but Remus isn't done yet. "Older than Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall combined. And older than Sirius, even though he thinks he's so old and wise just because his birthday is before ours." Remus smiles at Peter's laughter before continuing. "It's nothing like English. In English, we change the endings of verbs when the subject changes. In Latin, you change the ending of nouns, too—and adjectives have to agree with gender, and there's a whole separate tense just for when you aren't sure about something..." Remus rambles for a bit about the wonders of Latin, but Peter zones out for a bit. He doesn't really understand. "...But even though it's so different from English, a lot of the words we get—and a lot of the magic spells, especially—come from Latin," continues Remus. "Especially the big words. So when you know some Latin vocabulary, then you can guess what a word means based on the parts of Latin in it. That's a Latin root—it's part of the word that stems from Latin."
Root. Stem. What's up with all the plant terms? "Sounds complicated," says Peter.
"Oh, it is. Terribly complicated. I learned a bit of it before I went to Hogwarts, but I was never particularly good at it. I worked hard, though."
"Why'd you learn it, then?" asks Peter. He can't fathom the way that Remus' mind works sometimes. Who would learn for fun?
"Well..." Remus seems to be thinking very hard. "Sometimes languages are difficult to learn because they're always changing. Like French and English and Spanish and things. The vocabulary and slang changes all the time. But Latin isn't changing at all—it's been the same for years, and it'll never change again." He pauses. "And then there's the rules themselves. Latin has a lot of rules, but that means that it's predictable. It has relatively few exceptions to the words. And... I always found it fun to memorize things." Remus shrugs. "My life before Hogwarts was always very predictable, so Latin was comforting, in a way. Things that are constantly changing are a bit like moving targets, aren't they? My life's not predictable anymore, of course," Remus finishes with a laugh.
"It's not?"
"Are James and Sirius ever predictable?"
"Well... no." Peter smiles, but he's a bit concerned. "Does that mean you don't like us?" He dares to use the pronoun us, even though he knew that Remus was chiefly talking about James and Sirius. Peter likes being lumped together with his friends.
"That's not it at all," says Remus, waving his hands. "I think you're great. It's not what I'm used to, but maybe... it's better than what I'm used to. Moving targets are a little more fun, I think."
Peter disagrees, but he'll never say so. He thinks that his own relationship with the Marauders is a bit like a moving target—and, unlike Remus, Peter isn't quick enough to hit it. In fact, he's not even quick enough to see it until it's far too late. The expectations are always changing. The Marauders are too quick for Peter, too fast for him, too bright. Every time Peter feels like he's caught up, his friends have already moved on.
But Remus can keep up. Whenever Sirius makes a snide comment towards Remus, Remus can fire back with one equally snide. Whenever James starts babbling about things that Peter doesn't understand, Remus can keep up and ask questions without seeming stupid. Remus is a lot like Peter, but there's just something there—and Peter doesn't think it's intelligence, but it's something akin to it—that makes him a good, exciting friend.
And whatever it is, Peter doesn't have it.
At first, Peter tries to be just like James. He copies James' excitement and nonchalant attitude. He runs his hand through his thin, blond hair (it doesn't have the same effect, but he does it anyway). He thinks that perhaps he'll play Quidditch someday. He could be on the same team as James. Wouldn't that be grand?
Then Peter realizes that he's started too high. James is perfect, so Peter needs to aim a bit lower. So he makes jokes that he isn't entirely sure are kind, just like Sirius. In second year (after they'd already found out about Remus), Peter makes a rather unsavory joke about werewolves to Remus' face. Remus jokes about werewolves all the time, but there's something about Peter's joke that makes him go pale and shaky. He laughs it off, but Peter feels awful. He stops trying to be like Sirius. Sirius sometimes makes Peter feel bad about himself, and he doesn't want to do that to anyone else.
Peter decides to aim even lower. He's going to be like Remus, who seems to fit in without even trying. Peter tries for Remus' brand of deadpan humor. He sits with his hands folded, just like Remus. He lets his mouth twist upwards when he's happy instead of breaking into a huge grin. He tries to be kind to everyone, even when it isn't true. He starts lying a little bit more, just like Remus—about tiny things, just like Remus. Peter even begins to do schoolwork more, like Remus.
James and Sirius seem playfully exasperated about Remus' desire to do well in school. "That's our Moony," they say, shaking their heads and going outside to play Quidditch. But when Peter stays in to study, they look at him and scoff. "It's not that hard, Peter. You don't really need to revise for the Potions exam. It's the first one of the year. It's gonna be easy. How thick can you get?"
So Peter stops trying to be like Remus. He isn't sure what secret ingredient Remus has that makes James and Sirius love him unconditionally, but Peter has no good relationship with his friends. Even Remus seems to prefer James' company to Peter's on occasion, even though Remus and Peter are supposed to be best mates.
After a while, Peter starts to notice flaws in his friends. They are no longer the paragons of light that he once thought they were. Peter, ironically, notices flaws in Remus first.
Remus is self-pitying and self-centered. Everything always has to be about him. Whenever Peter tells him something even remotely sensitive, he can tell that Remus is pitying himself in his head, even though he doesn't say it aloud. Remus' life is worse; Remus' life is always worse. Peter doesn't mind at first, because Remus is right. But... after a while, it gets tiring.
And Remus pretends that he thinks something of Peter, but Peter knows that too much of it is a farce. Remus is better than Peter. He has suffered more, and he has still come out better. He is a harder worker, a better listener, and better with people. Peter's too slow, too hesitant, and not funny enough for Remus' tastes. And Remus knows it—he's just too polite to say so.
That hurts more than Sirius and James' disparaging comments, actually. With James and Sirius, it's obvious that the three of them are not on equal footing. But Remus seems to offer Peter crumbs of friendship that taste sweet in Peter's mouth and turn to plastic as they go down. Does Remus even like Peter? Peter isn't sure.
Oh, perhaps he's overthinking things. Perhaps Remus is a much better person than Peter thinks he is. Perhaps they all are. After all, Sirius makes exactly the same belittling comments towards Remus as he does Peter—the difference is, Remus can laugh them off, and Sirius respects him for that. And James may be conceited, but there's something much brighter underneath. James is so empathetic that it almost hurts.
Peter almost wishes that he were a werewolf.
Forget almost. Peter wishes that he were a werewolf. Maybe that's the certain something that Remus has and Peter doesn't.
James and Sirius may be the mascots of the Marauders in public, but Remus is the mascot in private. He's the glue that holds their little group together. James and Sirius would never get rid of him: no, it's too much fun to be friends with a werewolf. They love it.
James bends over backwards to take care of Remus when he's poorly. Sirius relishes the danger of having a werewolf friend. Everything is always about Remus, and Peter wants everything to be about Peter. He doesn't even need all that much; he only wants people that genuinely like him. Peter is only a Marauder because of a mixture of chance and Remus. Chance gave him position: it was the reason that he was placed into the same dormitory as the rest of them in the first place. Remus gave him means: he was the one that convinced the other Marauders to treat Peter nicely, even though Peter is now trapped in a group that isn't anything like him.
Well, he's not trapped. But he wants to be.
Peter wants to be equal with his friends more than anything. He wants it so much that his heart aches. He's happy to have friends, of course, but sometimes he feels as if he is merely witnessing a friendship instead of participating.
Peter doesn't know much about the Latin language, but he does know that a moving target is much harder to hit than a stationary one. "I think I'd like Latin," says Peter.
Remus smiles—closed-mouth, as he always does—and folds his hands on his lap. "So did I," he says, "but there are better things, aren't there? And much more useful things. Like this charm, for instance—I think you're waving your wand a bit too much. Try a smaller movement. There, that's it..."
Peter resolves to enjoy his friendship, as strange as it might be. He will not be self-pitying like Remus. It doesn't matter in the long run, does it?
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