I’m watching Splash (1984) which is a romcom about a guy who falls in love with a mermaid, and when she chooses a human name she chooses Madison and guy says “that’s not a real name, but alright” which seems to imply that Madison was not a name until at least the 80’s and all girls named Madison are actually named after the mermaid. thought you should know
I like my protagonists sad, tired, bitter, fully convinced they will never get the recognition they deserve, but they still gotta get up in the morning and be a good person
i had a dream i worked in an underwater restaurant and people kept ordering ice in their drinks and then getting mad at me when it would float away. and i’d tell them beforehand that the ice would float away & they’d be like lol no that’s not how it works just give me the ice. I’m fighting customer service battles never seen before
“Dead Dove” comes from this scene in Arrested Development wherein the character Michel Bluth opens a brown paper bag that reads: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. He looks inside and sees what is in fact, a dead dove. The then says: “Well, I don’t know what I expected.”
In fandom, the tag has come to mean: “pay extra attention to the tags!” And/or “this fic is what it says on the tin!”.
So if, for example, a fic includes the tags: Body Horror, Gore, and Violence along with the Dead Dove: Do Not Eat tag, the author is saying “Hey I’m not joking about these tags! Read at your own discretion!”
The tag acts as an honest intensifier to whatever tags are already in the work, as the author using it wants to give a double warning for their content, that it may be triggering and that the reader should proceed with caution.
One fic tagged with Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, also includes the tags: Seriously, this fic deals with some serious and disturbing content matter, mind the tags
Aka, why Avatar’s story works when so many others don’t.
There are two main paths to redemption: a shift in perspective and a shift in personality. The first is quite common and works very well for a character arc. The second is incredibly rare and should only be used if you’re going to heavily focus on it. Unfortunately, the ‘personality shift’ path seems to be the go-to and, while there is absolutely nothing wrong with this type of story, it requires a ton of work to make it feel earned. Work that is often hand waved away.
To start, let’s define these paths.
A shift in perspective: your character is already a fundamentally ‘good’ person. They just have a messed up view of the world, likely due to their upbringing. During the story, their world view will be challenged, forcing them to realize that they’re on the ‘wrong’ side. The classic example of this is someone raised bigoted and then going to college or moving to a city and turning out accepting after being exposed to people of other races, sexualities, and so on.
A shift in personality: there is something fundamentally wrong with your character. The reasons for this are many and I’m not going to list them out, but they probably know that their behavior is unacceptable. They probably don’t think of themselves as being on the ‘right’ side or, if they do, it’s because they refuse to consider another perspective. During the story, they will have to do an incredibly amount of work on themselves to try and completely change the way their brain is wired. The classic example of this is someone who goes through years and years of therapy.
Now I’m gonna talk about Zuko and Azula from Avatar because they’re extremely well-known characters, so most people on this site can read this without getting spoiled like they might with a lesser known property.
The reason why Zuko from Avatar has such a compelling story is that he’s a case of redemption through a shift in perspective. His personality doesn’t actually change. When we flash back to who he was as a child, it’s the same person that he ends up being as an adult. A loving, kind, honor-driven man who wants to be on the ‘right’ side. His only flaw is that he’s been raised in the Fire Nation, which means that his head is full of lies. Once he’s forced to interact with people on the other side of the war, he realizes that they’re not what he’s been told. This rocks him to his core and he struggles with it, but ultimately ends up giving up everything to be true to himself. To fight for honor.
His sister, Azula, never gets redeemed, but imagine if we put her in Zuko’s place and tried to tell the same story. It wouldn’t work because Azula delights in hurting others, something Zuko viewed as an unfortunate necessity of war. She views ruling as a way to gain power while Zuko views it as a burden taken on from duty to his people. To redeem Azula, you can’t just pop her in the Earth kingdom and make her see things from the other side. She actually does that and all that she sees is a great way to spy! Her redemption cannot be a passive one like Zuko’s was. It has to be an active focus of the story and would need her to want to seek help or have it forced on her.
Of course, there is a spectrum here, but the general principle that you can't lump all redemption stories together is an idea that often goes undiscussed, leading to characters like Azula getting treated like Zuko and it bothers me so you get a tumblr post about it!
When you learned your mother was a goddess, things finally seemed to fall into place. The other demigods laughed at you, the only child born to the goddess of the hearth, Hestia. But your power was so much more than they could dream of.
Being born to a goddess was something I never imagined to have happened to me, and really, least of all to a goddess of virginity, so really, Hestia as a mother? I didn’t believe that.
But dad told me he had been at the oven with papa and they had stoked the fire, they poured wine and sacrifices bread and oil and meats to the flame, and begged the goddess to let them have family together to gather in this home, a family to gather around a hearth and to love.
And listen to their prayers she did, sculpting me from embers and ash and blowing life into me with a spark from her flames, kissing my forehead once before she left, leaving me forever with her mark on my face.
That’s what dad told me, and now it all makes much more sense.
I never ran out of s'more stuff, ya know? Even if I had definitely just used up my last chocolate for a cake, there’d be a new perfectly preserved package of it in my cupboard. Marshmallows empty cause of my hot chocolate? No silly, there is still some left in the box somehow.
I also play the guitar, at the campfires I always played and lead the chorus, but never do my fingers turn to blisters, and I never need to rest my voice.
It also explains why I have always been at home anywhere and with anyone, I could sit down, and I was home where I was and the people with me would be my family.
Other demigods mocked me, I am the child of the goddess of the home, of the hearth, a cooking deity they’d call her.
It was…rude, but it was fine, I could deal with it. I didn’t have a cabin full of siblings, but whoever stopped by was family, right?
And it was totally fine to leave me behind when they went into battle, I am no good with weaponry, but I could still follow them, grab some food for them, they’d be hungry after all the fighting.
And they seemed almost concerned when I ran onto the battlefield barefooted and in my hoodie and sweatpants and apron, rushing towards a dragon and a son of Thanatos.
Their screams were scared when the useless child of a goddess ran onto the battlefield, and this boy actually tried to hold me back, even if his arms were shattered and his skin was scorched.
They were shocked when the battle ended with me.
They would’ve known I can’t get burned from all the times I’d stumbled into the campfire or spilled tea.
They should’ve known I can make anyone and anything calm down quickly enough.
They should’ve known I can protect anyone behind me by raising my hand.
A hearth does not burn, it warms and nutures. A family calms and cares, not aggravates. A home does not abandon, it protects.
I am the son of Hestia, and my mother gave me the ability to be a hearth anywhere I went. It is safe with me, for anyone.
As a villain henchman, the number 1 rule you’re always taught is to never outshine the boss. However, during a small bank heist, you accidentally kill your boss’ arch nemesis, and the legion of superheroes now see YOU as their ultimate threat.
But Piers didn’t know how to explain that to his Boss, or even to Capes Coalition, or the world.
Cuz the act had of course been caught on an iPhone he hadn’t had the brains to destroy even with his powers. Powers he could never use, never allowed to master, and one’s he’s hated until he saw the Bosses message.
All Powers in One’s Hands are Just.
What that had meant became something that inspired him, and he ended up where he was. Working under one of the greatest villains in Mandrake City.
He was one of the top villains, leading bank heist and destroying hero statues, but the Boss’ message Piers stuck to was the always the same.
All Powers in One’s Hand is Just.
His powers had always been a bit... complicated. At least that’s the word he always heard growing up. They were strange and almost invisible at times. They weren’t super strength, or flight, or even one he could really explain outside of weakening others around him. Small bits of fatigue, to full on sleep. A mundane power that some rest and an energy bar couldn’t cure.
But for it to kill Courageous Curtis, a high profile level 5 superhero he had simply shot at during a bank heist gone right?
Piers had looked over to his Boss, the man had been in the middle of his great monologue before he’d felt chills run down his spine.
His Boss, Mordred the Madman, had looked him dead in the eye, confuse morphing into fury as he pointed a finger at Piers, and had yelled at the rest of his henchmen to go after him.
But even the henchmen around him had hesitated, but not by his power, but by the fact that they had all taken a liking to him for the years he’s been with them. Helping plan heist, cleaning guns into the night, and even grabbing coffee for his unit.
The moment had given him enough time to fall back, and run, but the whole world was after him now, and one of the biggest heroes hunting Piers down were the leaders of the Cape Coalition themselves.
Piers couldn’t explain to them how a single bullet took out Curtis, when it showed millions of times through the internet that that man was completely bullet proof.
And now he didn’t know what to do.
-
On the 7th hour of him going underground was around the time Piers felt someone was following him.
Piers had tried to head over to the next town, disappear from Mandrake City, but even he knew it was only a matter of time before he was found. Especially by the greatest crime fighters of the Capes on his tail.
Which is why when he came face to face with Maned Wolf. A man with unknown abilities, very little screen time even when the Capes were interviewed, and the scariest thing about him?
The bad guys always talked. No matter what.
So he’d simply sighed and raised his hands up, but Maned Wolf didn’t move. In fact it looked like the man was surprised when he was spotted by Piers, and once again the young man felt this was not going how it should be.
“Um... you’ve come to arrest me... right?” Piers asked. They were in the middle of the street in a no where town, the only lights coming from a few convenient stores and lamp post around them.
“I... I’m sorry about Curtis I didn’t mean-” Piers stopped, and let out a little laugh. It was a dead laugh, humorless to him. Piers was trying to explain that he didn’t mean to kill a superhero.
But Maned Wolf only watched him the man almost gliding as he stepped closer to Piers.
“You’re young.” Maned Wolf said, his voice gruff and terrifying, just like Piers imagined it would be.
“20 actually.” Piers explained as he lifted his wrist up once again, and Maned Wolf cuffed him without much resistance. “I’ll be 21 in March.”
“Still young.” Maned Wolf said as he grabbed him by the shoulder and began to lead him to well wherever. Piers didn’t have much of a choice now. He began nervously tugging at the cuffs as they walked, and Piers new that keeping his mouth shut was his best move to make, but this was all too much, and it’s not like Maned Wolf wouldn’t get the answers out of him.
So he’d rather it be sooner then later.
“I didn’t mean to kill him.” Piers started, keeping his head down, “Curtis was- He was bullet proof, I don’t even know how I shot him.” Piers glanced at the hand on his shoulder, but he didn’t get a single sound from the man.
“My names Piers... Ivan Piers sir.” He said before taking a deep breath and raising his head up. He’d been lead to a silent floating jet, with three other Cape Members stepping out of it.
With a confidence of a young man who accepted his fate he stepped into the flying jet without another word, and watched the doors close behind him.
In one night Ivan Piers face was known worldwide, and he’d be known as the monster who killed one of the great superheroes of there time.
"I delivered the lost prince back to the reigning monarch, and I expected to never see him again, but now I've been hired as a bodyguard at the castle" AU
I was in charge of the cows, and the goats, and I made the most pleasant of cheeses and butters. It was a lot of work, but it was good work. A craft I enjoyed, and taught to me by my grandmother before she passed away.
Then one day as I was in the barn, after a long night of hard labor for one of my favorite girls (she was a beautiful golden cow named Missy) I heard something else in the barn.
It was a low grown, but still high in pitch, and it wasn’t like any animal I’ve ever heard. And with only a stool in hand I creeped toward the sound, the light in the barn bright enough in the morning as I looked over the wooden door over and spotted the bright red hair I’ve ever seen on a person laying in my hay, face down and wobbly on his hands and knees.
Now I wasn’t that far out of the town. but seeing someone sick in my barn wobbling on all fours would startle anyone, and I let out a surprised shout alerting said person.
Said person turning out to be a wasted prince.
Not just any prince either, an heir with more attitude then grace, and demanding everything under the sun from me. Luckily, I was from a neighboring kingdom, so the only thing I owe this fire haired prince was a curtsy and a whack on the head.
He wasn’t pleasant, but he knew nothing of the common people, or the land, or even how he got into my barn.
I curse kindness I ever agreed to take him back to the neighboring kingdom, but sometimes money talks— he had 20 gold coins to his name, and he offered them like they were only to slices of butter— and I packed what I thought we’d need for this long journey, and a farewell to my neighbor (who's promised to looks after my babies Missy and all) I set out with Princey Boy toward the Kingdom of Edlan.
It was... a journey. Hanging off cliffs, facing off ogres, and creatures I’d only ever heard stories about from my little barn, I hated every minute of it.
But sometimes laying under the expanding starry sky, and feeling warm rain on my skin, it made me realize how small we all are.
The people I meet along the way with Princly Boy was even better then I imagined, and sure there were bandits, and raider, and the occasional assassin, but the end was near once we crossed the boarder of Edlan.
From there it was a few days walk to the great castle, and luckily Princley Boys face was well known that you could just walk in.
The end of my journey, the feeling of my cows fur under my hands was so close, all but one curtsy away from them and I’d never have to see Princely Boy’s face ever again-
“Rise Lady Knight June, bodyguard to his royal Highness Prince Ashton.”
Ten words I never wanted to hear, with a job that paid beautifully until the Princes 18th birthday... which was a year away.
I thought I’d finally been free of this little prince, but it seems my treacherous adventure was enough to convince the King that I was suitable for such a responsibility.
Me a milk maid, and cheese maker.
But even I was curious of what possible dangers this prince could face in his own kingdom.
Dangers I was willing to face, for one more year.
-
I started this, and forced myself to kind of finish it. Started way before the prompt, but eh, it was fun.
Folks let me talk about Crowley and sunglasses, because I have a lot of emotions about when he wears them and when he doesn’t, and Hiding versus Being Seen.
We’re introduced to the concept of Crowley wearing glasses even before we’re introduced to Crowley, by Hastur: “If you ask me he’s been up here too long. Gone native. Enjoying himself too much. Wearing sunglasses even when he doesn’t need them.”
Honestly Crowley’s whole introduction is a fantastic; we learn so much about his character in a tiny amount of time. The fact that he’s late, the Queen playing as the Bentley approaches, the “Hi, guys” in response to Hastur and Ligur’s “Hail Satan”. I like this intro much better than the one originally scripted with the rats at the phone company, but I digress.
Crowley wears sunglasses when he doesn’t need them. Specifically, he still wears them around the demons, and when he’s in hell.
You know where Crowley doesn’t wear glasses? At home.
We never once see him wearing glasses in his flat, except for when he knows Hastur and Ligur are coming. That’s an emotional kick to the gut for me. Here’s one of the only places Crowley’s comfortable enough to be sans glasses, and when he knows it’s going to be invaded he prepares not just physically with the holy water, but by putting up that emotional barrier in a place where he wasn’t supposed to need it.
An argument could be made that Crowley actually never needs glasses. We’re shown that it’s well within the angels’ and demons’ powers to pass unnoticed by humans. Crowley and Aziraphale waltz out of the manor in the middle of a police raid, and going unnoticed by the police takes so little effort that they can keep up a conversation while they stroll through. Even an unimaginative demon like Hastur apparently doesn’t have trouble with the humans losing it over his demonic eyes. The humans in the scene at Megiddo are acting like “this guy is a little weird” and not “holy shit his entire eyeballs are black jelly”
That means that Crowley’s glasses are a choice, just like Aziraphale’s softness. Sure, he could arrange matters so that nobody ever noticed his eyes, but he doesn’t want to. Crowley wants acceptance, and he wants to belong, and he’s never, ever had that. He didn’t fit in before the Fall in Heaven, he doesn’t fit in with the demons in Hell. With the glasses, and with the Bentley and his plants and with the barely-bad-enough-to-be-evil nuisance temptations, he’s choosing Earth. This is where he wants to fit in, perhaps not with the humans, but amongst them.
Even after Crowley is at his absolute lowest, when he thinks Aziraphale’s dead and he’s on his way to drink until the world ends, he takes the time to put a new pair on when the old ones are damaged. He needs that emotional crutch right now, even with everything about to turn into a pile of puddling goo he’s not ready for the world to see his eyes.
Which is why I swore out loud when Hastur forcibly takes them off.
It’s about the worst thing that Hastur could have done. Rather than leading with a physical threat, his first act is to strip away Crowley’s emotional defences. It’s a great writing choice because god it made me hate Hastur, even more than all the physical violence we see him do.
It’s also the moment that Crowley really truly gets his shit together, and focuses all of his considerable imagination on getting to Tadfield and Aziraphale to help save the world. He’s wielding the terrifyingly unimaginable power of someone who’s hit rock bottom and realised it literally could not get any worse than this. He doesn’t put another pair of glasses on after discorporating Hastur, and he spends the majority of the airbase sequence without them.
He puts them back on again, I think, at the moment that he really lets himself hope. When he thinks ‘shit, there may be a real chance that we get through this to a future that I don’t want to lose’.
The vulnerability is back, and he needs Adam to trust him. In Crowley’s mind being accepted by a human means he needs to have his eyes hidden. Someone give the demon a hug, please.
Interestingly, there’s only one time in the whole series that we see Crowley willingly choose to take his glasses off around another person. Only one person he’ll take down that barrier for, and even then he’s drunk before he does it.
Dear God/Satan/Someone that makes my heart ache. Crowley’s chosen Earth, but he’s also chosen Aziraphale. He’s been looking for somewhere to belong his entire existence, and it’s with the angel that he finally feels it.
When the dust settles and the world is saved and they finally have space to be themselves unguarded, I like to imagine Crowley takes off the glasses when it’s just the two of them; the idea of being known doesn’t scare him quite so much anymore.
I reblogged this post this morning, and I’ve literally been thinking about it all day. (I mean what a good analysis @theladyzephyr!!)
In particular, I’ve been thinking about how this idea applies to the sunglasses in the Aziraphale as Crowley scenes. On one hand, maybe the rule of sunglasses as a way to create an emotional boundary doesn’t hold up in these scenes, because we’re dealing with Aziraphale.
Now, personally, I think Aziraphale knows Crowley well enough to knows when and why Crowley chooses to wear his sunglasses. Maybe he doesn’t get every individual reason as to why, but we never see Aziraphale push the boundary with the sunglasses. He doesn’t joke about them. He doesn’t force Crowley to take them off. He just accepts the sunglasses, because he understands and respects that they are important to Crowley.
So we then we have the swap, and Aziraphale!Crowley is brought to Hell.
During Crowley’s trial, Aziraphale chooses to keep the glasses on. This is very in line with Crowley’s character. He’s in Hell, surrounded by demons who want him dead, and he’s just watched the archangel Michael pour him a lovely bath of holy water. This is to say, in this situation Crowley would 100% be scared and need the security of the glasses.
And then we see Crowley in the bathtub.
No sunglasses. This is where we see Aziraphale breaking from Crowley’s character.
Why is this breaking character? Because Crowley, when handling holy water in ep5 to set up for Hastur and Lingur, has his glasses on. Yes, he’s in battle mode, but the directors could have decided that he put on his glasses after Home Alone-ing his apartment. They don’t. Instead, we have this scene with Crowley in his glasses pouring the holy water into a bucket, and I think that it’s partially because Crowley is aware that he could screw up here. He could end up in a puddle of goo before Hastur and Lingur turn up, and part of dealing with that potential reality is by hiding behind the sunglasses.
So back to the bathtub. If Crowley was about to face his extinction in front all of Hell, he sure as fuck wouldn’t take off his glasses.
But Aziraphale chooses to take the glasses off.
There are a couple reasons he might have done this. He might have wanted to keep the glasses free from holy water, like the coat, not wanting to risk potential harming Crowley when they switch back. This is a cute idea truly, but we also know that Crowley has back up glasses and, honestly, Aziraphale would have bought him new ones anyway (again, like the coat).
Aziraphale might have also removed the glasses, because maybe he doesn’t know when or why Crowley wears his glasses. This seems unlikely, because, I mean, this is Aziraphale we’re talking about. He knows Crowley better than anyone.
So that leaves us with the idea that this was a deliberate choice. Aziraphale decided that the sunglasses needed to be removed. And, in doing so, he creates a tremendous amount of power for Crowley. Taking off the sunglasses is a louder fuck you than any ask for a rubber duck or a towel could have been.
By removing the sunglasses, Aziraphale!Crowley has essentially said “I am not afraid of you. I am comfortable as myself. You cannot hurt me.” It’s powerful.
And then there’s one more detail.
Aziraphale!Crowley has also chosen to go full demon eyed, instead of the human/demon eye that Crowley uses throughout most of the series. And I think that this choice was to further reinforce this idea of Crowley taking his power back. The full demon eyes take away the humanness of Crowley (which we, as viewers, know is a good trait, but the demons of Hell see humanness more negatively), but it replaces that humanness with an incredible amount of self acceptance/ confidence. In other words, this is Aziraphale saying “Try me bitch,” while all the other poo their pants.
Aziraphale!Crowley survives, and our bois get back together.
And the sunglasses are back on. This was also Aziraphale’s decision, and, to me, this is Aziraphale acknowledging that Crowley still needs that emotional barrier. He’s back in character. Back to understanding and acting as Crowley, because he knows that his display would be enough to keep Crowley safe for the time being.
Anyway, if I don’t stop here, I’ll never stop talking about Crowley’s sunglasses. But here! Have a gif of Aziraphale walking like Crowley. My treat. Thanks for reading!
Oh I missed this one and it is excellent. Taking off the glasses to get in the bath is a key component of Aziraphale playing Crowley as he sees him: the cool badass. It’s mind-bending what the two actors are doing here. Now I want to go back and, as well as the slightly rolling walk, look for details of how Crowley plays Aziraphale (as an officer, a gentleman, and a badass).