Tumgik
#would anyone actually read it if i wrote it?
deadbranch · 1 day
Note
So dumb question time again. I saw where you reblogged the callsign post. But you said y’all just call them nicknames.
When I did the barest do research, I know should’ve looked harder, the only place I really found that used the term callsign were pilots.
(Also I forgot the word pilot and almost just wrote flier but had enough sense to google what are people that fly planes called)
In the COD wikis I’ve read they use the word Alias(es) and not callsign.
Is callsign just a pilot term? Or is it also used throughout the military?
I know I could probably google it more but honestly your lived experiences and even opinions give an interesting perspective on it all.
Sorry your tags got me thinking about where the term that is used so heavily in the fanfic side of the fandom came from and why we use it.
You mean this post?
Ok. Here's where the fandom rage quits my blog:
The term "callsign" is used incorrectly in roughly 99% of military-themed fanfiction.
In the army, a callsign (or call sign) is specifically used in radio communications, not as a moniker or nickname to be used in in-person communications.
More precisely, a callsign is a combination of alpha and numeric characters, like Echo 3-1, Bravo-6, or Watcher-1. Callsigns are also used to ID listening posts, HQs, and permanent telecom installations, such as 620-Kilo in Cold War West Berlin. The radio operator on site would ID as 620-Kilo rather than an individual callsign, and when their shift is over, the next operator ID as 620-Kilo also.
Only field operators use individually designated callsigns, unless the callsign ID the vehicle (like a tank or armored-heavy), which means anyone using the radio for the vehicle ID as the vehicle callsign.
A callword (or call word) is the name of a receiver or station using letters/words but no numbers, like Actual, Cloud Castle, or Whiskey Foxtrot.
U.S. pilots (navy/air force/army air cavalry) are different from most of the military. Pilots get permanent callsigns (not always with numbers) during training and it follows them during their career. To be fair, they spend a lot of time on the radio, so having a permanent callsign makes sense.
Names like Ghost, Soap, and Gaz are aliases or nicknames. They're not actually callsigns.
The Call of Duty fandom fell in love with using the term callsign because it sounds more "military" to their ears than alias or nickname.
In my writing, I avoid using the term callsign because it's usually not the proper word to use in a given scene. To be fair, I have yet to write a pilot fic or one where there's extended training discussion about the proper use of radio-telephone operation in field ops.
My husband was an airborne RATELO (radio-telephone operator) and had a callsign for several years, but no one ever used his callsign unless literally talking over the SINCGARS system with him. I operated a radio for a week and I don't even remember what my callsign was. It was something forgettable from the NATO alphabet* with a number after it.
In the army, in person you're either your last name or your nickname.
SpecOps often call each other by their first names ("what's up, Dave?" LOL), their last name, or a nickname.
CIA & CID use aliases. They call those guys spooks for a reason. You never know who you're actually taking to since they never use their real name.
In the context of Call of Duty: Modern Warfare, I still maintain that Alex Keller isn't Echo-1's government name. He's CIA. That was never his name. And he was never here. :)
*The NATO Phonetic Alphabet, for reference:
Tumblr media
MASTERLIST
124 notes · View notes
agoddamn · 1 day
Text
Tales of Duviri is a storybook written by Euleria Entrati for the purpose of teaching children how to handle the manic flood of emotion that comes with Void exposure.
I pose a question: why does Euleria feel so strongly about this?
Her interactions with her own children are... let's call them wanting, and dialog implies that the negative aspects of their relationship--her denigrating, controlling nature, the distrust, etc--did not begin only after the Infestation brainrot set in.
We also know that she holds her father in extremely high esteem, but Albrecht did not think much of Tales of Duviri (see: him talking about his previous disdain for it in his own Duviri notes). Euleria put resources into writing Tales of Duviri instead of more traditional science, and Albrecht did not think much of it.
So why did Euleria write Tales of Duviri?
Let's rewind a step. Void exposure-induced mania, the whole thing Tales of Duviri is written to help manage.
How was that discovered and studied? It clearly was studied, enough to be a recognized condition and for the Orokin to build the iso vaults and for Euleria to write Tales of Duviri. But who would they have observed this mania in if Void research was an abandoned dead-end line of study?
Perhaps...the man obsessed with the Void who'd survived an unshielded Void dive?
Euleria had patient zero of Void mania sitting at her dinner table. Albrecht is the character who's undoubtedly had the most Void exposure.
Albrecht himself must have exhibited the Void mania and mood swings that Tales of Duviri exists to teach caution of.
And that's why Euleria wrote it; she had this gyroscope of a mood swing at home. She admired Albrecht too much to consciously deride his lack of control as irresponsible and so she channeled her energy into writing Tales of Duviri instead.
The emotion spirals of Duviri are loosely based off of what Euleria witnessed in the Entrati household and particularly Albrecht himself.
I don't believe that any courtier is a 1:1 translation of a member of the Entrati household, but more that their toxic interactions and dramatic heights reflected things that Euleria herself saw--or lived.
This reading of the Duviri characters and story--that they mean things to Euleria specifically--gives us a fun new lens to look at all of the chapters with.
For example, Mathila.
"Two children, and no memory of her husband. Poor Mathila."
Two children like Euleria herself, eh?
Mathila loved her husband. He also textually does not exist. He's not on the screen or in the text. He is a memory, and one that Mathila herself cannot even remember. There is no portrayal of their love.
Pivot to a writer's perspective. You need to write a loving relationship. You look to real life for inspiration, right? If you're a married woman needing to write a married woman in love, you naturally look to your own relationship.
And if you can't find anything to base that love off of? Well...move that character offscreen. Just tell about the loving relationship, don't show. Actually, do you even have anything to tell about? Well. Move the entire loving relationship offscreen, then. She's got amnesia. Nobody needs to talk about the love to sell it or make it feel real now. The narrator can simply mention it as a fact and it need not be challenged. Euleria doesn't have to imagine a loving family life between a husband and wife and their two children and question why that's hard for her. There. Problem fucking solved.
Another parallel that fairly started screaming at me once I started considering that the Duviri courtiers had meaning to Euleria specifically: Luscinia.
"I was created to be Sorrow, written into being, to serve as a lesson... can that change?"
Luscinia knows that she is a tool. As much as she dreams of being more, she knows very well that she is a tool--both a literal narrative element to teach a lesson and within the story itself Thrax's servant (his personal songbird).
Is there anyone in Euleria's life who might have some angst over their position as a tool? A servant who wants to escape the limited definitions of their role?
And so... here I am, back to my old role. The diligent servant. Albrecht would have smiled at that, I think.
Loid. It's Loid.
Luscinia: "This structure and I share much. Both of us once useful, both of us discarded, both of us now derelict. Both forgotten." Loid: "How might this relic make himself useful today?"
Both Luscinia and Loid are also capable of surprising amounts of ruthless violence. Luscinia has no hesitation telling you to kill the Dax or otherwise wreak vengeance on her jailers. Loid's Necramech lines feature him ranging from being excited for ensuing violence to coldly promising the Murmur regret.
The Duviri Tales were a subconscious form of therapy for Euleria herself as well, allowing her to write a story where emotional explosions were a problem that must be addressed rather than a social struggle to be suffered through at the whims of the more powerful.
68 notes · View notes
drizztdohurtin · 3 days
Text
Rolan's First Day As a Father (blurb)
pairing: Rolan x afab!reader ("she", "her", "wife" used)
Okay, I wrote this in the "Rolan: fatherhood" headcanons but erm.... it got really long and turned into a blurb, so I'm releasing it separately so that I can add more actual headcanons to the post (I love when my own thoughts make my stomach hurt)
〚 Masterlist | WIP List 〛
Warnings: this is hella angst, and a little comfort, please buckle in
would recommend reading my 'deciding to start a family, and conceiving' post before continuing
Tumblr media
His attention had been only on you, a never-ending string of loving encouragement falling from his lips as you labored to deliver your baby; your strength and persistence only fueling his own, not allowing the anguish he felt from seeing you in so much pain to get the better of him.
The second he hears those first big cries when your baby is finally born, every single cell in his body is flooded with the parental bond he had been so utterly desperate to feel while you were pregnant. He focuses his attention on helping you get a little more comfortable now that the hardest part is over, praising you for how incredible you did as the doctor and cleric checked over you and your baby.
Rolan looks up with wide eyes to see the cleric carefully handing the newborn to you; a weary but thrilled laugh leaving your mouth upon seeing his beautiful red skin and adorable little tail for the first time.
Rolan goes motionless, staring at you cradling your newborn through the tears beginning to trickle into his vision. Time slowed as the overwhelming waves of love crashed into him - every single fear that he had while you were pregnant going out of the window, never to return again. He hadn't even held his baby and yet he already knew that if he had to take an ice knife to the chest every second of every day until his last day to protect him, he would in a heartbeat.
That night while you slept, he'd sit and rock his newborn, eyes full of adoration, tracing over every one of his features as he slept peacefully in his arms - trying to commit the image of his son to memory as if he'd never see him again.
He eventually works up the courage to gently graze the pad of his thumb over the baby's delicate features that mirrored his own: the light red skin, the bright yellow eyes, the black nails, the long pointed ears, and the tiny ridged tail that was barely the length of his own hand - wondering if his horns would be black like his, too.
If anyone had been watching Rolan at that moment, they'd see an expression of deep contentment and affection gracing his features as he traced his son's face - but then they'd see his smile fade, his eyes widen, and his lip begin to quiver as he fights back tears.
They'd watch as Rolan realized: this was the same sight his own parents had seen before they abandoned him.
When Rolan looked down at his baby boy, he saw the most perfect being in the world, the ultimate testament of your love, a blessing from the Gods that he did not believe he deserved.
And tears began to fall from his eyes as he tried to imagine it.
He tried to imagine watching the person he loved most in the world carry his child for months, laboring every day and night to create their son out of nothing.
He tried to imagine watching you go through hours of pain - pain that would bring even the strongest to their knees in surrender - to give birth to their son.
And then he tried to imagine looking down at his child and seeing anything but perfection.
He tried to feel hatred and disgust for the very being that he'd burn cities to the ground to protect
He tried to feel anything but unconditional love for the perfect angel that you had gone through so much pain to create.
And, obviously, he couldn't.
His head started spinning with emotions - the fire of his anger and pain being doused by the tranquility of his love and adoration for the tiny tiefling in his arms. He did his best to wipe his face without disturbing the sleeping boy in his arms, but it didn't work.
The bittersweet cries rang through his ears, momentarily erasing his own troubles, consumed by the singular desire to provide comfort - offering gentle kisses as he drew his son closer to his chest. He allowed himself to soak up the moment, gently leaning his cheek on his son's head as he rocked him back and forth - only realizing once his son's cries diminished that he had been purring.
Rolan had never been fond of that particular part of his lineage - though he had become less self-conscious about it when he had found out how much you loved it years ago. And now, witnessing how his body had instinctively reacted to calm his crying child, he had never been more thankful for it.
He softly pressed his nose and lips to the top of his son's head, giving him more gentle kisses and breathing in the heavenly newborn smell - before pulling away to look at his sweet face once again.
Rolan knew he'd always love him, that there was nothing his child could do that would make him stop loving him - and he promised this to his son in the gentlest whisper he could muster as tiny, bright yellow eyes peered back into his own.
He promised that he'd always keep him safe; that he'd always keep him fed, healthy, and warm.
He promised that he'd always take care of him and heal him when he was hurt.
He promised that he'd never leave him, that he'd never know the pain he felt growing up.
And Rolan took great solace in knowing his son would never feel the pain and abandonment that he felt as a child - in knowing that he would do everything for his son that his parents didn't do for him.
Tumblr media
49 notes · View notes
tree-obsession · 12 hours
Text
Aventurine, the Waste Land, the black hole, and luck- analysis on aventurine's possible fate
possible spoilers for 2.1 trailblaze mission
possible tws for suicide/suicidal idealization, mentions of slavery, and a massacre
ok there is. a lot to unpack for this mission but I would like to focus on the references to The Waste Land (by T.S. Elliot, fucking amazing poem btw) that were in Aventurine's parts?
First of all the achievements- the "Sibyl, what do you wish for?" and "She answers, I wish to die" or something like that. That is the very first thing in the poem we see- to put a long story short, it's a reference to how there was this oracle named Sibyl in Greek Mythology, blessed to live forever by Apollo. Apollo got angry after she refused to have sex with him and cursed her so that while she would live forever, her body would slowly waste away, eventually becoming dust kept in a jar. A couple of boys one day come up to this prison jar and ask her "Sibyl, what do you wish for?" and then she answers that she wants to die. This could be a reference to Aventurine, who is always so lucky but at that moment truly didn't wish to be lucky, and really did want to die. Yet he was stuck, unable to live- considering he is something of a "chosen" of Gaiathra Triclops, she could be the one who cursed him, in disguise of a "blessing" of good luck.
second, the maze scene. there were two references here, both from the fifth(fourth? it's been a hot minute since I read this poem, the details aren't all clear) part of the poem. it talks about a deserted waste land, where rain never falls, there is only lightning and rocks/sand. this matches up with descriptions of sigonia, as a desert planet that's referred to as "the unclaimed desolation", and also some of those lines are directly said in the white text that floated around the maze(which i'll be referring to as floating text from now on). the second reference was also in the floating text, which talks about how "there is another presence/person beside us", or something very similar. I don't have the direct quotation, but this is also a direct reference- within the poem, there are two travelers in this "waste land", and the narrator mentions feeling a presence that wasn't truly there. According to Elliot himself, his inspiration for this part of the poem was from an account of an Antarctic journey, where the person who wrote the account said he and his men were so out of it due to exhaustion they had begun to hallucinate another presence who wasn't actually there. this is probably referencing how mini-aventurine and present-aventurine both exist, and have existed, but the future-aventurine technically does not exist yet and literally is just popping up, clearly not "real" in the physical sense but definitely there. within the poem, there are a lot of speculations between scholars about why Eliiot decided to add this hallucinated dude in but one popular theory is that it's Christ, in disguise, which is really interesting considering The Family's Christian imagery. something to watch out for when Aventurine returns to the story (he def isn't dead, but as to when he's returning... :( i can't get my hopes up) or if anyone else analyzes this more deeply.
now, why the waste land? it's universally considered a pretty depressing poem, about how the world after World War I was torn apart and collapsing in on itself, and portrays a lot of characters who aren't living life to their fullest at all. it references many famous texts and literary works, pointing at literature as an amalgamation of all other literature and also acting as a metaphor for how everything builds off each other, so one thing collapsing could result in everything collapsing. there are a lot of references to different religions as well. perhaps the best way to put it is that Elliot was portraying a world under threat of total collapse, and asks the reader if there is anything humanity can do to save it, or if we must simply salvage what we can. the ending also implies peace is a far-off, perhaps unreachable thing since everything is so discordant. but you get the idea at this point- the poem is about decay and rotting over time. I don't have the greatest grasp on either this poem or aventurine's psyche, but the 2.1 quest revealed a lot- he is an incredibly lucky person who is in a lot of bad situations but gets out every time, and has never lost a bet (despite his life otherwise being absolutely terrible). the waste land itself could simply be sigonia, and then perhaps aventurine himself is a representation of the characters within the poem. practically all scholars agree that in this poem, all the female characters coalesce into one character, and the male characters do so too, and then there is one uniting character between the "male" and "female"- tiresias, who according to Elliot has "foreseen and foresuffered all". he is described as the most important figure in the poem by Elliot himself. Tiresias is an androgynous figure, but is referred to with he/his. he also is the only one to say "I" in the poem, and despite the fact he is blind he can see all, even the future- in mythology, he was a prophet like the Sibyl. "what Tiresias sees is, in fact, the substance of the poem", as Elliot says- in other words, what he sees seems to be the closest thing to the truth you will get.
now obviously that's pretty valuable, considering literally everyone is lying in penacony (in the livestream they said the entire guest list is filled with question marks in place of names, implying everyone's identities there were fake- other than Sparkle's, but she's a Masked Fool and will trick people just for the hell of it, so not exactly the best ally). however (this is where speculation starts) I think this could be possibly very subtle foreshadowing for Aven's return! and I know this may sound delusional but. it's established he's not dead. his stone is out, but that's quite possibly because he's next to a fricking black hole and also Acheron possibly had "freed" him, in some sense? that conversation he had with her obviously changed a lot of things for him as a character, and she said she could break the harmony's bonds on him... also, clearly if he wasn't dead while waking up next to a black hole, that's certainly a surefire way to tell his luck hasn't run out yet. the entire mission was spent establishing his luck is perfect, given by the goddess of his planet, and will never fail him. this is like near emanator-level shit- obviously not quite in terms of any special power, but he was specifically chosen by this goddess, was born on a special day, and due to sheer luck is the last one standing of his clan (apparently). literally everything was set up against him and he's only still alive due to a literal goddess-given power, which is absolutely nuts and almost overpowered if it weren't for the fact that he also seems to be in many scenarios where luck and gambling is the only way to get out at all. the massacre, the enslavement, killing his old master, the weird warlord thing that got brought up, penacony... his luck is purely for getting out of bad situations, it seems.
that was kind of a tangent. anyway! the whole mission was establishing how good his luck was. he got into this situation where the only solution is to walk into a black hole and see the other side of penacony- that is a classic example of "there is an extremely, extremely narrow chance of getting out alive". acheron did it, or something similar, so clearly it's possible- but luck and chance would be the only way. this is the cycle of his life- he's in an absolutely shitty situation, but he will get out due to luck. imo it's a terrible idea writing-wise to keep him explicitly alive up to the very end and going into a situation- alive- which he can survive in due to his luck, right after giving him fulfilling conversation with both acheron and his past self and seeing the uplifting note from Ratio... just to offscreen him, or kill him for some reason related to this "other side of penacony". it wouldn't line up with all that we know about him now. granted, I can't imagine it'll be pleasant and his mental state will be even worse at the end of it... but he'll be alive, and he's made it through a lot of hellish situations. he might not like his luck all the time, and it can be either a blessing or a curse given the scenario, but he's kind of stuck with it- until he withers away, just like Sibyl. Death does seem to be inevitable, but as of right now it's not knocking on his door.
tldr: for now, our boy isn't dead and his luck might be a curse to him but it's clearly going to keep him alive for quite a bit longer :)
tysm for reading and have a nice day!
26 notes · View notes
polaroidcats · 5 months
Text
Ugly crying & the marauders generation - a pseudo-scientific approach (my marauders crying PhD abstract)
Abstract
In recent days, there have been a variety of claims as to who the prettiest and ugliest crier in the marauders generation could be. This paper aims to address the recent surge in opinions on the matter, and categorize different approaches as well as add a new approach to the scientific examination of ugliness/prettiness when it comes to crying. I hope to provide readers with an overview of the current state of research and encourage all marauders scholars to add their own and I intend to make a contribution to the discourse by committing to the bit and writing a pseudo-academic paper about it instead of actually working on my thesis.
Introduction
In the following paper, the discourse about 5 marauders era characters will be examined in regards to their various levels of perceived ugliness whilst crying. Scholars who may ask why Peter [Pettigrew] is not included in this analysis are advised to refer to acclaimed marauders ugly crying scholar @lynxindisguise's (2023) original poll on the popular blogging website "tumblr.com" which did not include Peter, but rather two non-marauders characters named Lily and Regulus. This paper will follow that approach, since Peter is the nastiest skank bitch I have ever met, I do not trust him and he is a fugly slut. The characters included in this approach are as follows: James Potter, Lily Evans, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Regulus Black.
Following the scientific criteria for ugly crying, as stated by lynxindisguise et. al (2023), the question of the ugliest crier can be answered by observing the crying person and assessing their ugly-levels on the following parameters: (1) unbecoming facial expressions, (2) facial swelling/blotching, (3) unsettling noises, (4) snot factor, (5) tear volume, (6) general loss of dignity, (7) glistening eyes/lashes, (8) Victorian heroine factor, (9) elegant tear-wiping, (10) post-cry glow (ibid).
Criteria (1)-(6) can be categorized as the ugly crying parameters whereas (7)-(10) are pretty crying parameters, creating a false binary between ugly and pretty crying, which may be problematised and addressed in another the paper. In contrast to lynxindisguise’s original 10 criteria to measure the aesthetics of crying, this paper proposes to add (11) explosiveness of cry as another ugly crying parameter, in order to get a more clear assessment of where on the ugly-pretty crying scale a character falls.
The ugly crying parameters
(1) Unbecoming facial expressions
James Potter is mentioned in this category by several marauders scholars: @jaylienpotter talks about his red face and ugly sobbing, @artbyace mentions his “scrunched up cry face” and @sectoren claimes “james (…) is that one handsome guy that when the waterworks get going becomes like. Cartoonishly ugly”, raising the question of upkeeping toxic masculinity in order to avoid having to witness more of James Potter’s crying “mug”.
Though James Potter features heavily in this category, another character who is also mentioned just as often is Remus Lupin: @kaaaaaaarf, @appreciatedmoron and @http-starboy all emphasise that Remus Lupin is the one with a red and blotchy face.
(2) facial swelling/blotching
While there is a definitive overlap between the categories of facial swelling/blotching, unbecoming facial expressions and snot factor, Sirius’ and Regulus’ victorian heroine complexions, which give them an advantage in the homonymous category, may be to their disadvantage in the “blotching” category. This will require further research by other scholars.
(3) unsettling noises
James Potter is mentioned in this category by Jaylienpotter (2023), claiming he not only hiccups when crying but also that “his cries are one of the most heartbreaking things you’ll ever hear” and similarly, artbyace states that “James loves and feels so loudly”, whereas “Sirius is silent”, both sentiments are reminiscent of znelda’s (2023) statements that James “was allowed to feel his emotions freely in a loving household” and “Sirius (…) [is] used to hide [his] feelings and [has] become stoic”.
With several other scholars, among them also @jamesunderwater (2023) raising the point that James may be the ugliest crier due to him being “the only one well adjusted enough to have access to his feelings” this raises the question of possibly introducing another category, maybe of emotional awareness/stability to be able to measure this parameter more efficiently, though emotional vulnerability may also just be a part of the unsettling noises parameter, suggesting that there is a correlation between noisiness and the existing environment being welcoming to and accepting of various expressions of emotions.
(4) snot factor
The most popular winner in the snot factor category seems to be Remus Lupin, with several scholars agreeing that his sobs are the dampest and snottiest out of all the candidates. kaaaaaaarf (2023) writes “he turnes all red and blochty and snot drips out of his nose (…) he cant (sic) not cry with his mouth open as well so there is a lot of spit”, and appreciatedmoron (2023) agrees with kaaaaaaarf on this.
It only seems right to me to include spit in the snot category as well, seeing as they’re both crying-related bodily fluids that add to the ugly-cry factor. http-starboy (2023) also mentions snot in regards to Remus Lupin, which compared to both their comments in (1) opens up the question of how unbecoming facial expressions, more particularly redness of the face and snot factor may be related, as several authors seem to write about both specifically in relation to each other. Whether this is just pure coincidence or not would need further research, for which we currently do not have enough funding. This is only one of the many research gaps in the relatively new field of marauder’s ugly crying studies, which cannot fully be addressed in this paper.
James Potter is also mentioned in the snot category, namely by the marauders scholar artbyace (2023).
(5) tear volume
Artbyace (2023) claims James Potter is “full on bawling” which can only be assumed to refer to tear volume, but the most convincing argument for tear volume comes from the acclaimed marauders scholar @fruityindividual (2023), stating that “tsunami warning tones go off in sirius’ brain anytime remus is close 2 (sic) tears” which already indicates high levels of tear volumes. The author then goes on to specify the volume by claiming that “indeed the ocean wishes rj lupin would jump in and help contribute 2 (sic) rising sea levels”, further emphasizing the volume of Remus's tears.
(6) general loss of dignity
@pastaplatypus (2023) writes about James Potter not being able to do a Melodramatic Bollywood Cry, which is perceived as inherently racist by the crier.
I would like to argue that Sirius Black also deserves to be mentioned in this category. While as of today, with less than 1 hour left to vote, 15.5% of voters agree that Sirius is the ugliest crier, the more outspoken voices all argue for different ugly criers. Due to their upbringing, I am tempted to name both Black brothers in the “loss of dignity” category and look forward to reading future contributions to this discussion.
The pretty crying parameters
(7) glistening eyes/lashes
Undoubtedly Sirius Black deserves to be mentioned in this category. I believe his dark lashes and glimmering eyes are part of what makes him the prettiest crier. Whereas Remus’s eyes also sometimes glisten or appear red, and it is usually attributed to be caused by drug consumption, which more often than not is a wrong assumption, but he happily goes along with the pretense of being a weed-smoking bad boy in order to hide his ugly crying damp tendencies.
(8) Victorian heroine factor
It almost seems superfluous to even mention Sirius (and, to a lesser degree, Regulus) Black in this category. This category was made for Sirius, as is apparent when reading lynxindisguises (2023) description of the victorian heroine factor, in response to a question by the scholar @plecotusauritus:
“the Victorian Heroine Factor is a deeply scientific assessment of the Vibes. Is this person giving tragically beautiful, windswept Victorian Heroine, sobbing gently into their hands while sprawled across a boulder or a well or a fountain of some sort? When they look up at you, do their tear-plumped lips part elegantly as a single tear slides down their cheek?”
(9) elegant tear-wiping
There hasn't been a lot of research in this area, but I would like to propose handkerchiefs with embroidered initials and family crests as another potential factor in favor of the Black brothers scoring high marks in this category as well as the Victorian heroine factor.
(10) post-cry glow
Artbyace (2023) claims “lily is always beautiful (…) even when crying”, which is echoed by znelda’s (2023) earlier claim that “Lily (…) [is] a woman and no woman is ugly when crying.”
Sirius is the other popular choice by marauders scholars for this category, with @in-flvx (2023) stating that he “handsomely handsomes while dying after 12 years of torture hell and another year in shackles”, which would mean that “a few tears would[n’t] stop him from being the hottest person in the room at all times” (ibid).
Additional parameters
I am suggesting to introduce an additional metric in order to further specify and better assess the ugly-crying levels:
(11) explosiveness of cry
@felixantares (2023) introduces the idea that Remus “is the type that very few people have been seen cry because he ignores every difficult emotion hes (sic) ever had (…) and it all explodes at once and its horrible to watch when he breaks down”, a sentiment shared by several of the other authors mentioned above in various other categories.
Further opinions & conclusions
The most popular consensus seems to be that Sirius cannot be the ugliest crier, sometimes also in direct comparison to his brother: @spindrifters (2023) answers the question of the ugliest crier with “obviously it’s regulus”, elaborating that “at least [it’s] definitely not sirius bc (sic) reg is canonically less handsome in all ways” which brings up the question if regular beauty plays into ugly crying. This is contrasted by lynxindisguises argument, that Sirius may be an ugly crier because he’s so gorgeous, and his ugly crying subverts the expectations of beauty:
“the most beautiful man alive looks hideous while crying, and his deeply awkward and perpetually damp bf (sic) is literally in his element while crying – dampness becomes him, you might say.”
This statement raises yet another question – does regular crying make the crier more or less ugly? Can an ugly crier become a pretty crier by practice or are we all born either ugly or pretty criers, condemned to this fate for life?
While this paper has given an overview of the current state of research to ugly crying/pretty crying, it has also raised many more questions. Other topics which may be addressed in future papers also include the philosophical question whether ugly crying is in the eye of the beholder and if it is possible to ugly cry without being perceived, and if it is possible to ugly cry if the person perceiving you doesn’t find it ugly. Since the research field of ugly crying is a relatively new one, we can only hope to read many more opinions on these and other topics in the future, and I look forward to reading different scholar’s approaches to these highly relevant topics.
169 notes · View notes
sciderman · 1 year
Note
Do you think 16 year old Peter and 16 year old Wade would get along?
oohh my god. oh my god. don't you make me bring back my high school au i was writing
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
i have a few snippets of it posted to tumblr here but was RESOLUTE not to start posting it to ao3 until i've finished writing it in it's entirety (i hate having unfinished projects) – i don't know if i'll ever finish it, but the conceit was as simple as... what if peter had a friend in high school. and what if it was wade wilson.
i love high school wade so much - he's - he's been through a lot already, yeah, but he's kind of weirdly more self-assured than he goes onto be in adulthood. pre-military, pre-cancer, pre-weapon x, pre-all the violence and killing that warps him into something he deems entirely unloveable.
i think for both wade and peter, getting their powers kind of is the root of a lot of their problems with self-worth. just like you don't really worry about your place in the world until you hit adolescence, y'know. so peter's getting his powers, and worrying about his place in the world, and wade is still coming at life from a point of innocence - teaching peter that he doesn't need to worry so much.
260 notes · View notes
ramblingoak · 2 months
Text
Found an old Copia x Aether wip in my notes app and I’m debating on if I should finish it or not 🤔
Aether is a fireman and Copia is a professor who keeps setting things on fire. By accident? On purpose? The ghouls are taking bets.
Do you think Aether could throw Copia over his shoulder and carry him out of a burning building? Would you buy the calendar that the ghouls make to help raise money for a local animal shelter? (Bonus question: how many calendars do you think Copia bought?)
37 notes · View notes
automatonknight · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
image id: a two digital drawings of the same humanoid robot. their chassis is mostly white, brown and black and their head is a flat rectangle of sort, it has an awning and a single headphone with an antenna on the left side.on the right side of its “face” there is a yellow visor. the first, bigger drawing shows it walking with one of its hand in its pocket, waving at the viewer. they’re wearing a red skirt, a white button up shirt, a black jacket and a red tie. the other drawing is a lot smaller and shows it posing with one leg bent and raised, its left hand extended at its side and its right hand pointing up, its outfit doesn’t change much except that now it is wearing black pants instead of a dress. the background is black with a light blue square. in the top left corner there is text saying “murphy moore, any pronouns”. end id
165 notes · View notes
daughterofyourdarklord · 11 months
Note
But what if Delphini was at Hogwarts the same time as the trio???
Year 1: 
“Please.” 
She jokes, nudging at her cousin who’s sitting tall besides her in the train compartment. “Harry Potter being in our year at Hogwarts is nothing more than a gift.” She means it too, forcing away that pit of fear that settles in her stomach whenever she thinks about the chosen one. About everything he’s already taken from her family, from her.
Draco goes on joking with their soon-to-be fellow Slytherins. The express is buzzing with energy, though most of the First Year’s look more nervous than excited. 
She runs into Neville Longbottom on their waltz to the Great Hall. He bends directly in front of her, picking up some slimy toad off the stone floor with bare hands. Disgusting. He’s on his knees when he looks up and meets her eye, terror seeping into his gaze. She smiles at him devilishly, pausing for a moment before pushing him aside in an effort to get to what she is certain will soon be her throne room. 
“Delphini Lestrange.”
It’s a horrible cover-up of a last name, an obvious lie to any witch or wizard who knows better. McGonagal calls it nonetheless. There is a weight on her shoulders as she walks forward, the same one that’s settled their since the moment she was born. 
No one is surprised when the hat deems her a Slytherin.
Delphini feels Dumbledore’s stare on her the entire walk over to the sea of green and silver, but it’s Snape’s eyes that she meets when she sits down. 
The tension between Slytherin and Gryffindor is palpable. Worse than it has been in years, or so the older students claim. Delphini knows why, and Draco does too. 
She’s still glaring at the Granger girl when Quirrell asks her to stay after class in a sputter. 
“Of course, Professor.” She answers sweetly, watching from the corner of her eye as jealousy blooms across the mudbloods face. Ever the teacher’s pet. He seals the doors behind them, locking them with a flick of his wrist and casting a silencing charm while he’s at it. 
This time, he does not stutter when he speaks to her. 
Year 2: 
She dreams of a snake all alone, somewhere dark. Crying out for family, for companionship, for someone to listen. Anyone.
Only no one is there.
She wakes up in her dormitory with tears in her eyes. 
There’s been whispers about the Heir of Slytheirn. Talk that he’s returned, that he’s ready to rid the school of all filth that stands in his mighty way. 
Sometimes she wonders how people might react to find out that 'he' is actually a 'she.'
Regardless, it’s not Delphini that’s playing around in the chamber this year. A part of her is wildly unsettled that she doesn’t know who it is. 
It’s no matter, she has far more important things to focus on.
Initially, she almost isn’t allowed to take part in the dueling club. Some poor excuse sprouted up by the Gryffindors, accusations of dark magic and cheating. Unsurprisingly, its Severus that comes to her aid.  
Dueling comes far too naturally to her, and feels oh so sweet. Still she works harder, so eager, ready to fight, to strike. She trains and trains and then trains some more. 
She needs to be enough for Him, when the time is right. 
Potter being a parselmouth is.. Unexpected.
Even Severus seems surprised. Delphini is not sure how to handle the news, she writes home to her Uncle who informs her to stay out of it.
For the first time in a long time, she listens. 
Sometimes, she thinks she's going insane. She hears her father speaking to her through the castle walls, they whisper and she listens. She continues her training.
She will be enough. 
That poor snake. 
Year 3: 
The castle is awake, dementors swarming high above them, eager, hungry.  
She hates them. 
Delphini is determined and reluctant all at once in her venture.
Macnair had just walked out to call for the dementors, readying them to focus their rage. Quickly and quietly she slips into Flitwick’s office. 
They both freeze the minute their gazes meet. 
Eyes clashing from across the room, one hand still resting on the door handle, the other’s chained to an ornate desk. Sirius is the first to break the spell. 
“You look just like her.”
She shifts her gaze away at that, something in her shattering just a little. “I know.” She wants to answer, but she doesn’t have the time. 
“How did you do it?” 
This time, it’s him that doesn’t answer, eyes scanning her face almost wistfully.
“She’d never stop talking about you, you know? Drove the other inmates mad in her rantings, but really I think she just didn’t want to forget.”
And how that just aches. 
She shatters further. “How could you leave her!?” She wants to scream, instead she asks again: 
“How did you manage to escape?” Her voice sounds more desperate than commanding, close to a whisper. 
He smiles sadly. 
“She can’t do it..” Delphini waits for him to finish his sentence. It’s short, and certainly not the answer she was looking for. “I’m an animagus.” 
And that’s all she needed to hear. She squeezes her eyes shut tightly, not bothering to hide her reaction. That familiar weight settles heavily on her shoulders again, for a moment she feels like she might crumble beneath it. Quickly she turns back to the door, ready to race out of the room and pretend he told her anything else. 
She pauses, tossing her dark curls over her shoulder to glance back at his haunting face. 
“Then why wait all this time? Why not leave that place the second you had the chance?” 
He doesn’t answer. 
He doesn’t need to.
Year 4: 
It was gorgeous, the bright green in stark contrast against the dark night sky. Constellations gleaming in its wake, a harmony in the heavens.
A terrorist attack, they had called it. 
Art, Delphini thought. It was the first time she’d ever seen it. 
Something was coming. Lucius seemed certain of this, even Narcissa had given them an exceptionally careful goodbye before ushering them onto the express.
The Triwizard Tournament turned out to be an even bigger let down than she’d imagined. Beauxbatons was a bore, and the Drumstang boys seemed scared of her, which was no surprise really. 
Karkaroff avoided her like a poor case of mumblemumps. 
His time would come, it was not up to Delphini to designate punishment. Not yet.  
Watching Potter almost die at the edge of each of these challenges did add a nice touch to the year. Though, all that anticipation she’d felt in summer dwindled a bit each time he survived. 
It wasn’t until Moody tracked her down in the corridors after hours that things really got interesting. 
Even Delphini was surprised to find Barty somehow alive. 
He doesn’t tell her much. They don’t have a lot of time as it stands, and really she’s just thrilled to have finally met him. He’s full of promises, of course. Lot’s of ‘soons’ and ‘be ready’. Delphini doesn’t get any of the details but she’s known since the beginning of term that it was finally coming. She’s more than ready, more than enough. Isn’t she?  
"The Dark Lord will rise again, Crouch! Throw us into Azkaban; we will wait! He will rise again and He will come for me!"
The scripture scrawled into her very soul. There have been signs everywhere pointing towards His return. Now she knows it to be true. 
“You have her face,” Moody - Barty - interrupts her thoughts, he’s staring at Delphini in near worship, a look so foreign for the professor. “You have His eyes, though.” 
“I know.” 
She meets Him for the first time later that summer and He tells her something similar. It means all the more coming from Him.
Before her father, for the first time, she spins her spells into symphonies, her hexes into homilies, casts her curses to the constellations. Shows Him everything she knows, and all her power with it.
She walks back over to Him when she is well and through, magic still radiating off of her in harsh waves. Her father takes her wand from her hands. 
“I have much to learn.” Delphini offers, and she knows it to be true.
Her father is looking at her wand still. 
Dragon-heartstring, like her mother. Yew, like His own. 
He is smiling when he answers, something proud dancing in those red eyes. “Yes. You do.”
Year 5: 
With the commencing of the Spring Equinox she is finally allowed home. Ostara save her.
Delphini has to brace herself before walking through those large double doors, entirely unsure exactly who she might find on the other side. 
Still, her heart is burning. 
At last. 
Her mother’s embrace is a blessing. A gift Delphini hadn’t known she needed. That sharp look of recognition in her eyes hurts in all its relief. 
She really does wear her face, afterall. They’d all promised her as much, didn’t they?
Father is there, He is watching. Studying them both, studying their interaction.  
Her mother takes her face between her palms like a prayer, eyes shining. She’s full of promises and penitence. Delphini isn't having any of it. Her mother owes her nothing and this, just being here, it's more than enough.
Delphini has never felt so whole in all her life.
She begs to be a part of their plans at the ministry. Anything she can do to further the cause, support her family, put them back into their rightful place - above everyone else.
It's futile. She's far too young, and the logistics of getting her there are far too problematic. There's talk of Azkaban and Bellatrix looks terrified at the prospect of Delphini somehow winding up there.
"Absolutely not. The choice is not yours to make and your Father and I are in perfect agreement that you remain at the school." She turns to her, reaching a hand up to caress Delphi's cheek tenderly.
"We'll celebrate once we return with the prophecy, hm?"
It's the one promise Delphini will accept wholeheartedly.
Year 6: 
Somehow, it’s Draco and Delphini that bear the brunt of the shame brought on from the fiasco at the Ministry. 
Draco is marked, as punishment to Lucius (to Narcissa).
Delphini is not, as punishment to Bellatrix (to herself). 
Her cousin is crumbling under the pressure, Delphini is soaring. It's the same weight she’d felt her whole life, only this time she finally has an opportunity to act on it.   
It takes longer than she would like to mend the vanishing cabinet. Draco was seeing to it personally in the beginning, but with little to no headway Delphini made it her personal mission.
Not that it really mattered anyway. Delphini has other plans entirely. 
Whilst Draco wastes his time casting cursed necklaces and poisoning wine, Delphini is speaking with the stars. 
She will be enough.
When the day of reckoning is finally upon them she can hardly hold back. 
“Expelliarmus.” It’s swift and was fully intended to take him off guard but she’d still expected him to put up some sort of a fight. Immediately, something seems off, its only a matter of sorting out whether or not its something she can take advantage of. 
“Evening, Delphini, Draco. Are you alone?” 
“Who else is here?” She doesn’t bother to entertain his question, though Draco is quick to boast about the Death Eaters holding off the guards down below. Dumbledore assures them he is alone, but the two brooms resting along the ramparts suggest otherwise. 
No matter, Delphini will handle them both. Draco is waxing on, talking about the vanishing cabinet and Rosmerta. Much as she hates to listen to him give them all away she’s taking a moment to study the Headmaster. Something seems off, as he is entirely unbothered to be at the wrong side of their wands.  
“And why have you waited?” The headmaster interrupts after a beat, causing even her cousin to pause. “Those feeble attempts to kill me all year, surely they weren’t you.” He is speaking directly to Delphini now, she knows it.
She smiles. 
Quickly, the other Death Eaters are fast up the stairs making their presence known. 
“It doesn't have to be this way.” The Headmaster continues, eyes only on her despite the others' verbal jabs. “Long ago, I met a boy who made all the wrong choices-"
“My Father, you mean?” She breaks her silence, the other Death Eaters laugh behind her at the revelation. Though Dumbledore is not at all surprised, and why would he be? “There’s no reason to hide behind truth’s any longer, Headmaster. His time has come, and consequently yours is over.” 
And suddenly Severus is there stepping forward to share a look with Dumbledore. A part of her considers testing the potion professors loyalty.. 
..Only, this is her moment.
“Avada Kedavra!” It’s sweet on her tongue, and even sweeter watching him fall. They’re on the move sooner than she’d like for them to be, hardly a chance to savor it.  
On their flight into the forbidden forest she throws a ‘morsmordre’ into the sky like a personal signature. The monogram of her family. 
When she finally greets them, He tells her she’s worthy and stitches as much into the inside of her left forearm.
She is enough.
Year 7: 
It’s beyond refreshing, being who she was always meant to be. 
Watching as Slytherins and now students alike all bow at her feet, that renewed fear keening in their eyes. 
She savors it, relishes in their reactions.
Miss Black, they call her.
It’s nearly perfect. Helping alongside mother and father to secure the ministry this summer, returning to Hogwarts with an honest surname, unforgivables cast at her fingertips without repercussion. 
Of course, there is still the looming prospect of Potter. 
He’s been hiding from them all for far too long, lurking in the shadows despite the growing number of mudbloods father kills. Finally, they manage to locate him at Hogwarts, where boy wonder somehow convince the entire school to fight for him. How cute.
Until eventually, they find a way to lure him out. 
Father calls her to the boathouse through the mark she finally bears. Her mother falls into step with her the moment she departs, Delphini is not sure if she was called but what does it matter? They’re family.
Nagini greets her with enthusiasm, dancing between her legs like a cat. She acknowledges her, of course, but only after she acknowledges Him.
He eyes her mother disapprovingly and Delphini is not at all sure what to make of that. 
“We’ll have him soon, Father. I'm certain of it. He’s far too righteous to let this continue, even if it is good fun. He will come to you. ”
He hums in agreement, long fingers tracing his newfound wand. 
“That he will, Delphini.”
She waits then, she and mother both, giving him the floor to impart his orders.
“You understand, Delphini, that you have proved yourself very valuable to me since my return.” She smiles gently, sharing a warm look with her mother before turning back to Him. “You’ve been right about a number of things, and dedicated beyond my expectations.” He pauses again before resuming his gentle pacing. “One can only hope that that devotion continues with my next request.” 
He falls into step next to her mother, reaching forward to trace along Bellatrix jaw gently. 
“I have concerns, Bella, with how this new wand may cooperate with me when it comes time to put an end to Harry Potter.” Her mother looks confused, leaning forward into his touch.  
“My Lord?” He lingers a moment, appreciating her features before resuming his pacing. 
With it He continues, telling them of wandlore he was able to gather from Ollivander, from Gregorovitch. Delphini’s stomach sinks with every word. 
“You understand, Delphini.” He pauses, stopping directly opposite her on the other side of the small boathouse with an imploring look. “That while you live, the elder wand will never truly be mine?” 
And finally she is crumbling under the weight of it all.
Tears swim in her eyes as she looks at Him without answer, finally broken. She did everything right - exactly as He had asked her to! She did it all for Him - for them! To be everything and more.. To be enough..
Though, it seems she may never be enough. 
“F-father..” Her voice is broken, stubborn tears escaping from her eyes, eyes the same shade as His own. He doesn’t speak, nor does he resume his pacing. 
And then there’s Bellatrix, balancing on the edge of in-between them.
Delphini is too afraid to even look at her, desperation more than evident in her mother's voice: “My Lord. Certainly, there is another way. We can take Potter as prisoner and work the rest out later! How can we trust the word of a two-timing wandmaker? No - there are more, other wandmakers throughout Europe! I will bring them to you and we can find other ways - just like we always do..My Lord.."
His eyes don’t leave Delphini's own.  
“Please.”
64 notes · View notes
legolasghosty · 6 months
Text
So. About a year ago, the lovely Innytoes created a list of spicy writing prompts. And I, being the dorky ace that I am, decided to take it as a personal challenge to see just how UN-spicy I could do some of said prompts. The actual giving of prompts was kept to a few friends, and it was mostly a silly thing back when I could actually sit down and spin up a one shot in an evening. (A few of said prompts actually made it to ao3 at various points, you can read them here, here, here, and here!)
HOWEVER, I took a couple of the prompts off of the list before I offered it to my friends for prompts. Mostly cause I just had no idea how to make said prompts not sexual. But one of them has continued to haunt me for over a frigging year now! SO, here's some little snippets of how one could de-saucy-ify the prompt, "The lube is what flavor?"
Option 1 -
"Okay so what am I supposed to be getting again?" Alex asked, the phone to his ear as he entered the O'Reillys.
He heard Bobby groan on the other end of the call. "We've been over this at least five times, Lex." Alex could feel his exasperated glare without even seeing him.
"I'm sorry," Alex sighed. "I just know literally nothing about car fluids. Blame the gay in me or whatever."
"You do realize I'm gay too, right?" Bobby pointed out. "But again, you're looking for silicon lubricant. And for the love of God, don't get that Red and Tacky garbage Chad 'recommended'."
"I'm sorry, the lube is what flavor?!" Alex demanded, turning onto the aisle marked 'Fluids'.
"You're not supposed to-whatever-just get the silicon stuff," Bobby said instead of answering. "Valvoline usually works just fine."
Alex glanced around at the overwhelming shelves of bottles and jugs. He drummed out the beat to a song Luke and Julie had shown them the day before on his leg as he narrowed down the options. There, that looked right.
"Okay I found it," he told Bobby. "But you're explaining how car lube can be 'red and tacky' to me later."
"Deal," Bobby responded, sounding relieved.
Option 2 -
"-and the vocal folds need to be kept moist," Julie explained.
Luke nodded, but Julie knew she was losing him. His vocal health notes had dissolved into scribbles and half-finished lyrics. She'd better wrap this up.
"So they're naturally lubricated with a really thin layer of mucus," she continued. "And in order to keep that layer thin and stuff, you have to stay properly hydrated."
She paused to pick up the light blue plastic water bottle from the studio floor. But when she looked back up to whack him with it, the mostly full container seeming like a decent way to make a point, he was already staring at her, eyes full of confusion.
"What?" Julie asked, one hand flying automatically up to her ponytail to see if it had come loose or something.
"The lube is what flavor?" Luke asked, mouth hanging open a bit.
"I-what?" Julie asked again, now feeling almost as confused as her bandmate looked.
"The voice cord lube stuff," Luke responded. "You said it's like mucus. But isn't that just... snot? Your voice is covered in stuff that tastes like snot?!"
Julie tried to hold back. She really did. But she failed. She burst out laughing, dropping Luke's water bottle in a futile attempt to hide it. "Luke, mucus is more than just snot," she tried to explain through her giggles. "But yes, that's what keeps your vocal cords moist."
Luke shook his head. To all the world, he may have looked like a man who'd just been told he was colorblind, that everyone else could see a universe of shades his eyes couldn't comprehend.
But only Julie would know the truth. At least some part of her mini-lecture on vocal health got through.
Option 3 -
"Okay, and then pass me the 205?" Flynn requested, holding out a hand to Reggie, who was sitting on the floor along with most of Flynn's tools.
"Um, the what?" Reggie asked sheepishly, glancing around at the various brushes, screwdrivers, and small tubes surrounding him.
"Oh, the switch lube," Flynn clarified, pointing at a small jar. "It's GPL 205G0, and there's lots of types of keyboard lubricant, so we usually just use the numbers to ID them."
"Oh, right, sure," Reggie responded, passing her the container. "Sorry. Computers aren't really my thing."
"Well that's what you have me for," Flynn pointed out, smirking. "I fix your glitchy keyboard, you keep me from failing math."
Reggie laughed and leaned back against Flynn's bed while she worked. After a minute, she passed him back the jar and started fitting the keys back into place. He entertained himself by inspecting the black lid.
"Wait, so the lube is what flavor?" he asked, looking up at Flynn again. "Da-vinny-key?"
"Divinikey," Flynn corrected easily. "And that's a brand, not a flavor. Please don't eat keyboard lubricant."
"Well I wasn't planning on it..." Reggie said, letting his sentence trail off suggestively.
"Reginald Jacob Peters, you wouldn't dare," Flynn warned, shooting him a glare over her shoulder.
He held her eyes for one moment. Two. Three. Fo-
Reggie burst out laughing, with Flynn only a moment behind.
"I make no promises," Reggie wheezed as he got his breath back.
"I'm not taking you to the hospital when it poisons you," Flynn shot back, her grin betraying her words.
Thank goodness Reggie's keyboard was done already.
Thank you, sorry for wasting your time with my brain worm!
18 notes · View notes
friday-answers · 26 days
Text
THIS IS A @universe-friday PSA:
thalia is NOT nor inspired by a pre-existing osemanverse character!
8 notes · View notes
graciousdragon · 2 months
Text
first day back at college updates: class 1 was virtual due to inclement weather, class 2 was still in person but my car and driveway are both covered in ice so my ass is not driving over there (and neither are 90% of the rest of my classmates), and i wrote a public class discussion post about a fanfiction i read that was longer than any of the other posts there
9 notes · View notes
bastard-sweet · 4 months
Text
The point of A Christmas Carol was not to teach morals by example; it was to teach morals directly. Ebenezer Scrooge was specifically made to be a reader insert. The lessons of A Xmas Carol can mostly be divided into 'you don't want to be this guy (he's suffering)' and 'you don't want to be this guy (he's evil, like ultimately, Biblically, very un-Xtian)', afforded by the third category of Basically Everything In The Book 'you don't want to be this guy anymore (he's deeply relatable to the upper-class Victorians the book is targeted at)'. The fact that he doesn't spend money on himself is not a sign that he needs to care for himself more; it's to show that he's so greedy to the point that it is useless, to show that valuing money this much is bad and senseless. The fact that he were to die if he didn't change for the better is an example of Cosmic punishment. Maybe the story does have a hint of teaching Scrooge to take care of himself, but that's only for the same reason that Scrooge is given a 'workaholic billionaire' backstory. The rich like(d) to see themselves as hard-working, and were the target audience, and Dickens didn't want to insult his target audience while trying to teach them basic human decency. So he also took the opportunity to slot that into the 'you don't want to be this guy (he's suffering)' method of teaching.
#that post just frustrates me so i decided to write out my thoughts#ebenezer scrooge is a reader insert!!#a christmas carol#also charles dickens' mindset at the time of writing is fascinating to think about. a xmas carol was written in response to a government#report on the conditions of mines factories and mills for child labourers (which before writing charles dickens also conducted his own#investigation i think). dickens vowed he would deliver a 'sledge-hammer's blow on behalf of the Poor Man's child'#and xmas carol is... not that. from a 2023 perspective it feels really toothless actually. it's about a guy who learns about the magic of#xmas and being nice to poor people. but thats because it's not MEANT to be a sledge-hammer's blow clearly. he reconsidered#and wrote a persuasive letter and it's actually really interesting to pick apart! so there's my recommendation#and regarding accusations of antisemitism: dickens probably was really i havent really read many of his works outside of school so.#but the book is pretty (n yes pretty is doing a lot of legwork here) divorced from that. its antisemitic but thats mostly#because it uses classical Xtian models of morality (eg celebrating xmas) to equate not celebrating xmas to cruelty to show how bad cruelty#is. not to equate cruelty to non-xtianity to show how bad non-xtianity is. yes theres some fucked use of carciature but the antisemitism#i read as very casual? like nowadays. its hooked nose = evil. antisemitism was absolutely not the intent at all its just very much an#artifact of its time. which. i dont think anyones learning nazism from ACC. its not challenging antisemitism but. most books dont even now#sweet talkin'#long tags#sweet whisperin'#charles dickens#classism
8 notes · View notes
Text
So this past weekend I wrote a whole 7 pages, color coded them based on chronological order, and then went back and made it 8 pages on the lore and backstory of portal… would anyone be willing to read it?
20 notes · View notes
aria0fgold · 28 days
Text
Someone fr just... translated my omori fic of Magician in the Mirror to Chinese (they even asked permission first too!) and I'm like... melting... in a good way... brimming with a lot of positive emotionsthat I just burst and melted cuz ohmygod???
2 notes · View notes
stevebabey · 1 month
Note
liking the blurbs from 2019 totally could have been me…. Sorry hehe! When i find an account i like i have to read everything they’ve ever wrote!! You’re amazing <33
HEHEHE no no go ahead!! i mean i do believe i'm better at writing than i was 5 years ago (one would HOPE) but when someone finds the random blurbs, it always takes me by surprise!
i suppose i would think of people going through my masterlist but not just my like writing tag! i'm glad ur enjoying it all :D i hope it kept u adequately entertained for a decent while <3 mwah luv u
2 notes · View notes