Captain Robert Walton, in a letter to his sister, November 9th, 1793:
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imagine just IMAGINE being Robert Walton’s sister; your brother has gone off to the arctic, possibly leaving you alone, for months: and the letters are like “okay hes not dead” and then suddenly out of NOWEHERE the letters are like
“Dear Sister today I pulled a twink from the ocean and he said hes gunna tell me a story. Keep you updated”
and then you receive the story you’d be so concerned like “wtf is he ill? has the wind gotten to him is he on the verge of death?”
and these letters of “dude this ocean twink is wild” keep coming until it ends with “then his 8ft man came and took him and I think they both died… wild huh” imagine just the sheer confusion- because these letters probably take MONTHS to arrive too-
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i haven't used this site in a short while but i'm in my literature class right now and my teacher just wrote robert walton's name as 'walter' and now i'm imagining breaking bad x frankenstein au like,,,, 'jesse, we need to reanimate the dead...'
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straight friend groups: (brunette girl) (frat boy) (“the funny one”) (kyle) (blonde girl)
gay friend groups: (The Modern Prometheus) (The 8-Foot Homunculus) (The Beautiful Italian Orphan) (The Poet Boyfriend) (The Falsely Accused) (The Gay Sailor) (Th
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Homoeroticism I notised while reading Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein (spoiler warning):
“His full-toned voice swells in my ears; his lustrous eyes dwell on me with all their melancholy sweetness; I see his thin hand raised in animation, while the lineaments of his face are irradiated by the soul within.” (Robert Walton about Victor Frankenstein)
“He appeared about fifty years of age, but with an aspect expressive of the greatest benevolence; a few grey hairs covered his temples, but those at the back of his head were nearly black. His person was short, but remarkably erect; and his voice the sweetest I had ever heard.” (Victor Frankenstein about M. Waldman)
“His manners in private were even more mild and attractive than in public.” (Victor Frankenstein about Henry Clerval)
“Excellent friend! How sincerely did you love me, and endeavour to elevate my mind until it was on a level with your own! A selfish pursuit had cramped and narrowed me, until your gentleness and affection warmed and opened my senses . . . ” (Victor Frankenstein about Henry Clerval)
“His eyes sparkled as his cheek flushed with pleasure; and at that moment I thought him as beautiful as the stranger.” (Frankenstein’s creature about Felix De Lacey)
“Clerval desired the intercourse of the men of genius and talent who flourished at this time.” (Victor Frankenstein about Henry Clerval)
“His fine and lovely eyes . . . ” (Robert Walton about Victor Frankenstein)
“I have longed for a friend; I have sought one who would sympathise with and love me. Behold, on these desert seas I have found such a one . . . ” (Robert Walton about Victor Frankenstein)
“My unfortunate guest regards me with the tenderest compassion.” (Robert Walton about Victor Frankenstein)
“His eyes sparkled, and his cheeks flushed with momentary vigour.” (Robert Walton about Victor Frankenstein)
“Margaret, what comment can I make on the untimely extinction of this glorious spirit? What can I say that will enable you to understand the depth of my sorrow [at Frankenstein’s death]?” (Robert Walton about Victor Frankenstein)
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You know how when your friend gets a crush on the most mid (or even below mid) individual in a way that alters their ability to perceive reality?
That's Robert Walton and his crush on Victor Frankenstein. Sir, he is a stray cat you yoinked out of the landfill, 'he had a halo around him' NO THE FUCK HE DID NOT! That was the angels hanging around him because he was in a constant state of being one strong breeze away from dying!
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robert walton: but i have one want which i have never yet been able to satisfy, and the absence of the object of which i now feel as a most severe evil, i have no friend, margaret! well, these are useless complaints; i shall certainly find no friend on the wide ocean...
victor frankenstein:
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robert walton laid down in his bed and wrote every letter gushing about victor to margaret in this pose
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