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physalian · 23 days

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The Hero with Dead Parents is not Cliché, it’s Necessary

The staggering number of protagonists in sci-fi and fantasy with dead parents grows every single year. Frodo Baggins, Harry Potter, Luke Skywalker (before the retcon in ESB), almost every Disney Prince and Princess, the Baudelaire children. Beyond the realm of fantasy into action, thriller, romance, mystery, slice-of-life, and bildungsromans.

Dead parents, or parent, is the curse of being the hero of the story and for a very good reason:

Parents are inconvenient as f*ck.

Unless the mom and/or dad is the villain of the story or the entire story is about the relationship with the parent/parents, the “dead parent” trope serves many purposes and while it may be “cliché” that doesn’t mean this trope is bad or, in my opinion, overused.

It’s one less liability the hero has to worry about protecting

It’s one less obstacle in the hero’s path to their adventure

It’s one (or two) less characters to find excuses to stay relevant in the story

It’s a juicy backstory a lot of people can relate to

Trauma. Is. Compelling.

It’s an excellent motivation

And their murder is an excellent inciting incident

Living parents and guardians get killed off both for internal plot reasons, and meta writing reasons: Living parents are a pain in the ass to keep up with. You’re stuck with a character your hero should still keep caring about, keep thinking about, keep acting in relation to how their actions will be seen and judged by that parent. That parent becomes an obvious liability by any villain who notices or cares.

Living parents can of course be done well, unless they’re the villain, but they just kind of sit there on the fringes of the plot, waiting around to be relevant again and they kind of come in four flavors:

There when the plot demands for pie and forehead kisses (Sally from Percy Jackson)

A suffocating but well-meaning obstacle in between the character and their independence trying to do right (Abby from The 100, Katniss’ mom from Hunger Games, Spirit from Soul Eater)

A mentor figure (Valka from HTTYD 2, Hakoda from ATLA)

The only rock this character has left (Ping from Kung Fu Panda)

*Notice how many of my examples lost their partners shortly before or during the plot, thus still giving the hero the “dead parent” label.

Most of these are self-explanatory so I’ll say this: I think this trope gets exhausting when the parents are written out without enough emotional impact on the hero. These are their parents and a lot of the time, the emotional toll of losing them isn’t there, like just slapping a “dead parents” sticker is all you need to justify a character’s tragic backstory and any behavioral issues they might have.

Like, yes, the hero has dead parents, but you still have to tell me what that means to them beyond obligate angst and sadness. When the “dead parents” trope reads as very by-the-numbers, usually the rest of the story is, too.

How present the parents were in the character’s life should be proportional to the death’s impact on the narrative (as with any character you kill off). If they were virtually nonexistent? No need to waste a ton of time. If they didn’t matter to the character before, they don’t need to matter now unless the plot revolves around some knowledge or secret their parent never shared.

Sometimes, the hero’s dead parents are a non issue. Frodo being raised by Bilbo doesn’t impact his character at all. It’s a detail given and tossed away. On the other hand, sometimes the entire centerpiece of the work is revenge/justice/catharsis surrounding the parent’s death—Edward and Alphonse Elric’s entire story is defined by the consequences of trying to bring their mother back from the dead.

As someone who kept one of my protagonist’s parents alive and didn’t make them villains just to spite the trope, I have all the more respect for this enduring legacy of fiction. You can of course keep the parents alive, but I don't think it's seen as lazy or cheating or taking a shortcut just killing them off, so long as you remember that your hero is human and should react to losing them like a real person.

#writing advice #writing resources #writing tips #writing tools #writing a book #writing #writeblr #character design #character development #fantasy #scifi #dead parents

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underground-secret · 4 months

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The Hunter and the Witch~ Dean Winchester x f!reader

Description: Just before they leave Kansas the group decides to eat and rest before continuing, giving Y/N the time she needs to visit her mother’s gravestone.

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, dead parent, visiting a graveyard, lonely, angst with a happy ending (the happy ending almost didn’t happen)

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld , @okayiamkassandra , @fablesrose , @ada--44

Word Count: 2022

Reunion

(Master list, Previous ch, Next ch)

I sit in the backseat of the Impala, the wind blowing from the open window, messing up my hair and the book I have in my lap. My spell book. I look down at the hard brown book, only minutes ago did I have a small fight with Dean about what to do with it but even now the urge to do something itches at my bones.

With a small huff I open my bag pulling out a pen before flipping open to the page, on the top left corner I write “April 2005–bags did not work on a house haunted with a poltergeist.” The small warning did nothing to ease me but it would have to do for now, because to rip the page would be to destroy a piece of my mother and a piece of myself.

Dean was right, I'm not afraid to admit that, I am afraid to admit, however, that I acted harshly to his remarks. I knew I shouldn’t have reacted like that, I knew it even in the moment but the words left me too quickly for any rationale to hit me. I felt bad, it must have been hard for him to see his mom again and then there I was causing an argument to rub salt in a wound. Most of all I pity myself for getting like that, an awful anger festering in my gut.

"Hey, how 'bout we grab a bite and take a breather?" Dean suddenly speaks, breaking the silence of the car. I look up from my lap, where the book rested, I meet his eyes in the rear view mirror giving a small nod. I was hoping we would stop somewhere for a while so I could sneak away and visit someone. Sam agrees too so we drive on for a while.

I watch the view from my window the whole time, watching the trees and buildings go by when it suddenly becomes very familiar. I don’t know if it was on purpose or not but we pulled right up in front of my favorite diner, I always went there it had become a go-to very quickly. Different memories flash in my mind to the many times I went with my brother, friends, and even Dean. It’s then that I think it must have been on purpose but instead of happiness filling me it’s a sort of dred.

Even so nothing more is said as we exit the car, but just as I close the door behind me I say, “You guys go ahead, I'm not hungry.”

Dean gives me a confused look but it’s Sam that speaks up, “Do you want us to save you something?”

“No no it’s okay, thanks” I shake my head, clutching the strap of my bag to me. “Could you just text me whatever motel we’ll be staying at, in case I come back and you're not here”

“Where ‘you heading off to?” Dean asks, confusion and concern written in his eyes.

“Oh, I’m just gonna walk around” I half lie with a tight lipped smile to finish it off. Still Dean looks at me skeptically, which I suppose is completely fair, but he doesn't say anything about my blatant lie either. With a simple bye I walk away swiftly, feeling the burn of their gaze on me, only slowing down when I'm out of sight.

My feet guide me, the route so familiar I could do it blindfolded. I spent so many years in this town, and yet it all seems so foreign. It was like I was walking back in time directly toward my past, except nothing is exactly as I remembered it to be. I hate to admit it but I never thought I’d be doing this again.

At each crossroad I wait at, my heart feels like it’s being squeezed. A desperate sadness filling my lungs, how was it possible for something to be so familiar yet so foreign? It didn’t make sense. Yes time changes all things, and yet I think I expected it to still be the same like it couldn’t possibly change because this is where I grew up. Maybe it was because I never thought of this place anymore, hadn’t needed too. My past died here and I moved on because it was the only thing left to do. I never came back, never visited, never wondered what my friends who I met here were doing.

It hurt too much to think of Kansas when out of all the wonderful memories only the worst ones stuck out, branding itself to this place I called home.

I slow to a stop in front of a flower shop, the same one I always went to. I enter the small establishment, the bell ringing as I open the door. The strong aroma of all sorts of flowers hitting my nose, I don’t need to look around to know exactly what I want. What I came for.

I walked up to the counter immediately noticing the owner wasn't behind it, I remembered she always was and she even refused to hire any workers because this was her store and she didn’t want any “hooligans” to ruin her work. I have to remind myself that it’s been years, not a week or a month but years since I’ve been here. She probably retired or…no. I won’t let myself think that.

I leave with my bouquet of forget me-nots and white roses, my moms two favorite flowers. I hold the assortment gently as I continue my long walk. My mother loved forget me-nots she would gush over the meaning and the many poems and analogies she had heard, she was a romantic so the meaning was never lost on her. I definitely got that from her.

Eventually I arrive at the cemetery, the large black gate creaking as I push it open. I carry on the path taking a couple twists and turns before arriving at the gravestones. It was unkempt with dead leaves covering it, the sight alone made me want to cry. I wipe away the leaves that lay on top of it, using my shirt to clear the dirt from her name not caring about it getting dirty. I sit criss-cross right in front of her, “Hi mommy” I smile sadly, tears already filling my eyes. “I brought you flowers” I lift them slightly in emphasis.

Feeling it to be too improper to just lie them down, I produce a glass vase filled with water. Carefully I take the plastic wrapping off the bouquet, freeing the flowers from their restraint before placing them in the vase just beside her grave stone.

I let out a heavy sigh, “I missed you…I’m sorry I haven’t visited you since I moved away”

“God.” I sigh, looking up to the blue sky, fluffy clouds scattered over it, trying to prevent the tears from falling.

“You know” I laugh sadly, looking back at her, “This whole time we were here I planned on seeing you and I thought of so many things i’d like to tell you about, but now.…” I breathe out. “I don’t know.”

“There’s hardly a day that goes by in which I don’t miss you, It’s gotten easier since, well, you know.”

“But being here.” My voice trembles, “I feel as if I could lose my mind to the grief, I thought I was past that. Past being so…lost. Alone?”

I laugh, tears falling from my eyes, “I could really use one of your hugs right now”

I wiped my face, my cheeks feeling stiff from the tears, “I met your friend Missouri, she’s great, I'm surprised you or dad never mentioned her before.”

“Um. I’m with the Winchesters right now, helping ‘em out” I tell her, trying to think of the positives right now instead of the squeezing of my heart.

I swallow down a sob, my throat feeling tight with emotion once more, “I know you’d like to hear all the good in my life but being here, I can’t— I just. I miss you”

“I don’t care if that’s redundant when it’s the truth, I just…I’m so lonely” A sob breaks through my lips, and the tears flow down my face rapidly only this time I don’t try and conceal it. “That sounds so horrible to say because I’m with people I love and care so deeply for, yet something feels wrong. Something is missing and I don't feel quite whole.”

More tears fall, my eyes blur with it. Her gravestone and the flowers turn into a gray, green, blue, and white mix. “Have you ever felt that way?” I ask her even though I know I won’t get a response.

I sit there in silence for a few moments not really knowing what to say or what to do. I don’t want to leave just yet because I don’t know when I’ll be back, and to leave would feel like turning my back on her all over again. I scoot the way I sit so that my back is resting on the side of her gravestone with my legs extended in front of me. I lean my head to the side to rest on the frigid stone.

“I figure I’d find you here” A deep familiar voice suddenly says. My eyes shoot up from my fingers, watching Dean's approaching figure, a cup of something in each hand. I swiftly sit up, wiping at my face quickly trying to remove any evidence that I'd been crying, “What are you doing here.”

“Well Sammy bailed on me for some beauty sleep after you left. Noticed you were off, especially when you skipped out on one of your favorite diners.

‘Figured you’d end up here.” He’s closer now only a few paces away, I stand up to meet him. I don’t understand why he came or how he even remembered where her grave would be, “No offense but why’d you come here?”

He shrugs all nonchalantly, “Didn’t want you to be alone.” It was sweet he was here but it almost felt awkward, like this was too private of a moment. “I can leave if you want” He offers, sensing my hesitance.

“No! no it’s okay, thank you for coming, that's really sweet of you.” I spill out quickly, leaving out the part that my mom wouldn’t mind him being here either.

He shrugs again, “You’d do the same for me.”

“Also, I brought you a milkshake for old time sake. Wasn’t sure what flavor you’d go for, but knowing how indecisive you are anyway I got you a vanilla chocolate mix thing.” He extendeds one of the blue paper cups towards me and I knew he got them from the diner.

I take the cup from him, the coolness immediately seeping into my hand, “You know me well” I smile looking down at the milkshake not being able to meet his eyes. Now sweet wasn’t even the right word to describe him, he brought us milkshakes because when we hung out we would almost always go to a diner and get them with fries or a whole meal depending.

“I told you I did” He responds, reminding me again of our previous “fight.”

I look back at my moms grave, the flowers I brought sitting in the vase somehow the scene feeling lighter now. “We can stay, drink these here, if you want.” He offers, again sensing what I’m thinking.

I turn my head back towards him, this time meeting his green eyes, “No it’s okay.” And it was, I knew my mom would want this. She would want me to walk away now when I was happier and with someone I loved—that romantic in her shining through again. He nods and we begin to walk away, I take a sip of the milkshake, “God that’s good” I smile and he laughs.

We walk silently mostly, “Sorry about before, with the spell book. You were right.”

He swings his free arm around my shoulder tugging me closer to his side, “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.”

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why-do-i-like-the-bad-guys · 5 months

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A point no one ever touches on about Flint:

The fact that he was raised by his grandfather.

Now, maybe it was common back then, but from personal experience; losing your parents at such a young age makes a huge impact on a person.

People argue that “Flint” was created because of the loss of Thomas Hamilton. But I’d like to think it was when he lost his parents. The only difference being, Miranda and Thomas allowed him to come out of the shadows, out of hiding. He had that rage inside him before he lost Thomas, his boss in the Navy said so himself after he beat up a guy in the bar. He had a darkness in him that not even he understood the depths of.

I can definitely relate to that statement and mindset, I think as a kid instead of acting out on his aggression; Flint used books and stories to try and escape his reality, so he wouldn’t be alone with his own thoughts. I do the same with TV shows and stories I write.

But then he found Thomas and Miranda and he didn’t need the books to crawl into, he was accepted by them, welcomed. And as someone who was adopted themselves, it’s extremely hard and sometimes it feels impossible to believe that someone could love you as you are or for who you are. Not only that, I think he found family within them, something sometimes hard for someone who loses their parents.

Flint tried to fit in by becoming an officer, upholding the standards of the law and whatnot, to be like everyone else. But deep inside, I think he felt very out of place and alone. He saw the world as it was, the cruelty within the people, and he ended up showing that to Thomas who was quite oblivious to it. But Flint knew the world was cruel at an early age.

They come from different backgrounds, but together they get to see the world through each other’s eyes, and that is a world that they can see being happy in.

Now, I know a lot of people like to think it’s purely queer rage that drove Flint, but I like to think it was something much deeper than that. Yes, he loved Thomas, inside and out, but I think Thomas was the first person who he didn’t have to pretend with. He was the first person who made him feel as if he wasn’t alone: that he was worthy of being loved. Then he was taken away and James became Flint and took Miranda away with him out of England.

Her ghost even says that first to him, she was a mother, and that’s why he was so ruined over her. He lost his mother again. I think it just shows that his reasons are a lot deeper than just being ostracized for being queer in that time. I think his rage goes beyond that, it goes all the way to his core of who he believes he is because of the loss of his parents. He came up from nothing, his grandfather wasn’t well off, he didn’t have a mother figure, that can be extremely damaging to a child growing up.

And sure, he had his grandfather, but growing up without parents also makes it extremely hard to figure out who you are. And it doesn’t specifically say how he lost his parents, but personally I like to believe that he lost his mother in childbirth, maybe his father died before he was born. It does mention that his father was a carpenter’s mate (worked on a ship) and that James himself had no schooling growing up. Which means, he learned everything himself because his grandfather was a fisherman and probably wasn’t well educated either. So he came from literally nothing and made something of himself, yet I don’t think he was content. I think he kept climbing the ranks, hoping it would give him a sense of meaning or purpose within his life, give him the peace he wanted, fill the hole within that losing his parents left.

An additional to that would be that James McGraw was a personality he put on, much like he did with Flint.

I also think he saw Gates as a father figure, a mentor, someone he trusted and respected more than any one else. So I think when Gates betrayed him, it broke something inside of him and he felt alone again.

He also says that England took his home; and I don’t think he meant the physical place, I think he meant Thomas. But I also think he meant his final security within himself. With Thomas and Miranda he found family, he found love and trust.

When Miranda was murdered it was the absolute last straw for him. It was like his mother dying all over again; except this time she was murdered, and now no one was safe from his vengeance. And people might think he went overboard, but think about it: someone insinuated that she was a slut and he almost beat the man to death. I think it was well within his rage now he burned the entire place down after she was murdered. Hell, those people got off easy.

He also talks about where the name Flint came from. A man that was never seen again. I think he chose it because in his mind, identity was something you could change, something you could toss away when done with. But closer to the end, he realized, he was Flint, Flint was him, and there was no throwing it away and starting over.

He tells Silver that he shouldn’t be afraid that he (Silver) will be his end because I think he already realizes that he’s already his own end. That there is no other way other than to die, in order to get rid of Flint. I think he knew at some point, that Silver would have to kill him and he was oky with it, but as long as the war was won or Silver carried on with the efforts of the war, so Flint would no longer be needed. Or Flint would just off himself when the time came. It was like passing on the torch, only Silver blew it out in front of him.

And for the offing himself part, we all know he would do it because at the end of the first season he tried to drown himself, he gave up hope. So he does have it in him to do that. (Not so fun fact: adoptees are 4x more likely to attempt suicide)

And I think it’s another reason Flint allowed himself to trust Silver in the first place. On some level, he knew that Silver understood what it was to have no solid identity, to have a background that made something inside of you missing. Silver had no problems shifting his position on the ship in order to stay relevant, which is why they made such good partners, because they understood one another in a way that Gates never could. But the thing with Silver was that he couldn’t see the ultimate bigger picture like Flint could, he didn’t have the loss Flint had, the sacrifices that Flint made, all he saw in the end was the destruction, not the new beginning coming out of the ashes.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

#toby stephens #captain james flint #black sails #adopted #dead parents #john silver #hal gates #but seriously I need more people to talk about this or figure this out #Flints character #james flint

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adastraetretro · 16 days

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"What were they like?"

"They were going to change the world."

#prompt #prompts #writing prompt #writing prompts #short prompt #story prompt #dialogue prompt #fic prompt #dialogue #writing ideas #writing dialogue #creative writing #writing #excerpt from a story i'll never write #excerpt from a book i'll never write #it's giving “child asking about their dead parent(s)”#dead parents #why is that a tag #for some reason i'm imagining the two characters sitting outside on the front steps while watching the sunset and chatting

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cult-of-the-eye · 4 months

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I love doing things to disappoint my mother cause she's dead so she can't do anything about it apart from seethe

#life hack #stay toxic #dead parents #dead mum club #shitpost

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youweremadetosoar · 10 months

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I think the difference between the frequently compared Batman and Iron Man is that Tony Stark does not have the secret identity that Bruce has managed to maintain.

From almost day one, Iron Man has been synonymous with Tony Stark in the public view and that’s problematic because Tony had already established himself as a playboy to the general public. In contrast, while Brucie Wayne is Gotham’s favorite rich kid, he also receives complete respect, or at least fear, from all the criminals he faces as Batman, because nobody links womanizer Bruce Wayne to the Dark Knight.

When people see Tony for his money, reputation, and status, it becomes hard to separate Iron Man from that and respect him as a hero. This also, in my opinion, contributes to the Civil War divide due to the fact that Tony, and Steve as well really, are both having to consider what the public thinks of them for their actions instead of perhaps just doing the true right thing.

Batman’s secret identity gives him a level of untouchability in the choices he makes and in the things that he can bring to his team. What he lays on the line is fair game but what he chooses to keep close to himself stays hidden and that allows him to make the decisions he believes are best without worrying about becoming a target of public opinion.

Another point I’d like to bring up is that “Tony Stark: Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist” and “The Batman” are both, for lack of a better term, facades that both Tony and Bruce use to cope with their parents deaths. Parents, I might add, that were killed in strikingly similar yet very different circumstances. The difference between these two personas is that the public knows Tony’s parents died and, if they wanted to, they can trace all of his decisions back to that point and judge him for it. Batman, however, (since he maintains a secret identity) is not under the level of scrutiny that Tony receives because it is not widely known that his parent’s death caused him to become a vigilante, so he is not looked down upon in that regard.

I think this is a really interesting topic, that when you think about it is very integral to every part of these characters’s stories and lives.

#bruce wayne #batman #tony stark #brucie wayne #iron man #dead parents #secret identity #vigilante #superhero #thoughts #they’re both rich

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