#death of a father

[madarasthicc]

Severed Ties: To Die Alone

//art work by @kankuroplease I just love this one so much!!! God the feels. Ages in this chapter: Tajima 42, Madara 20, Kuro 17, and Izuna 14. Im thinking of doing a lil piece of Tajima as he’s dying but idk yet.

Now at the age of twenty Madara was used to death. Having lost half his family, and many of his comrades, it wasn’t anything new. He faced death during battles, faced death carrying the fallen back home. Nothing in a shinobi’s life was guaranteed but eventual death. It was certainly a dark outlook on life but a true one. Hidden at night he still couldn’t help but think of aspiring dreams of peace and a village of clans. But he no longer had anyone to voice these thoughts to. His thoughts often then drifted to Hashirama, who he still saw but now on opposite sides of the battle field.

Madara stood in front of his brothers. They both still looked so young - only seventeen and fourteen. He began to adjust Izuna’s armor; he still needed to grow into it to really fit. Thankfully they were with his squad, at least he could keep an eye on them. He was about to speak with them when he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. It wasn’t often someone caught him off guard and no surprise it was his father.

“You fuss over them too much.” Tajima said firmly, a frown on his face. “They’re old enough to battle, they don’t need you mothering them.”

“Seeing as I practically raised them, I think I’m allowed to fuss.” Madara grumbled under his breath. He and his father never quite mended their relationship the older he got. Things were said, physical altercations between them lead to a deep disconnect. Tajima had grown cold compared to the man Madara remembered him being before his mother passed. It was hard to connect who he used to be versus who he had become. Plus he didn’t think his father really ever forgave him for putting him in a genjustu when he had been sixteen.

“Don’t think you can sass me.” Tajima hissed. “They are grown men, shinobi for the Uchiha. They don’t need to be mothered by anyone, least of all by you.”

“I’m just ensuring they’re ready.” Madara huffed, turning to fully face his father. “You’re the only one making a fuss over it.” He pointed out, looking around to see the rest of the shinobi paying them no mind.

“It’s not your job to fuss over them like their mother. Your job is to lead them into battle.” Tajima said, his voice was clear with his disapproval of Madara’s actions.

“And that’s exactly what I plan on doing. But I’m not going into a battle knowing they’re not fully prepared.” Madara said, hating they were just going in circles at this point. This back and forth bickering was grating on his nerves. “You’re just itching to start a fight with me, no matter what I do or don’t do. Maybe you should focus that energy on the battle ahead and not on fighting with your own son.” Madara said, waving him off and turned back to his brothers.

“You do not turn away from me until I dismiss you.” Tajima grabbed his shoulder and yanked him back. “I am your father and your Clan Head, you do not just walk away from me while I am speaking with you.”

“You’re my Clan Head, but you’re hardly my father.” Madara hissed, crowding right into Tajima’s space. He wasn’t much taller than his father but was wider than the older man. “I will do as I please, seeing as this conversation is over.” He said, again turning away from him. Both Kuro and Izuna were watching closely, soon others were watching the interaction. Again Madara was about to speak to his brothers when his head was yanked back - his father had snagged a fist full of his hair and pulled.

“I have had enough of your disrespect.” Tajima growled, forcing Madara to face him. “You will show me the respect I deserve as your Clan Head and as your father. Do you understand me?” Madara gritted his teeth as his father shook him by his hair. Kuro held Izuna back as they stood and watched, neither knew what to do. Sure things got heated between Madara and their father but never quite this bad. And especially not in public like this.

“Fucking make me.” Madara sneered, face splitting into a feral grin. Once his words sunk in his father’s face turned a lovely shade of red and then purple. Tajima raised his fist with every intention to rain it down on his son’s face. Madara kept his dark eyes open, focused on his father’s waiting for the hit to come. When suddenly someone pulled them apart.

“Perhaps it is best to continue this after we’ve returned. No need to waste your energy when we have an enemy to worry about.” The man, Hiro said to Tajima, looking between them.

“We will continue this when we get back.” Tajima hissed, stalking off to his own squad before they took off.

“Must you antagonize him at every turn?” Hiro sighed.

“If he didn’t insist on being such a bastard, no.” Madara huffed. “He is who is in the wrong most of the time.” He pointed out, shaking out his hair. His father had gotten quite a grip on it.

“Mind how you talk. He is still Clan Head, talk like that and people will think you’re thinking about staging a coup.” Hiro said, eyeing Madara closely.

“That is dangerous talk indeed. I have no intention of taking the clan over. Not anytime soon.” Madara said firmly. “Father is only forty two, he’s got plenty of years as Clan Head ahead.” He pointed out. Now that people were beginning to disperse, squads one after another were taking off. They didn’t have a lot of time. One last look over his brothers and he deemed them ready. They took off with the rest of their squad, he put all thoughts of his father behind him.

—

They arrived back at the compound by nightfall. The battle had been a nightmare. More so than normal. He had lost sight of Izuna for a time, thankfully not for too long. But it had been long enough Madara thought he was going to have a heart attack. The thought of what his mother must have suffered came to mind when he thought he had lost Izuna.

It had been a losing battle, they lost a decent chunk of land and part of the river they normally used as their border. But other than that, his own squad had fared well enough this time. He stood at the compound door watching as shinobi began to enter. Those wounded were taken to the medic tent, while the dead laid so they could be identified. It was strange he hadn’t seen his father yet. His dark eyes shifted red to watch each man and woman that came through the gates.

Finally he received the news that father had died and it sent him reeling. His strong and fierce father laid low by some unknown face. Apparently some unknown clan took advantage of the confusion during the scrimmage. At least that’s what reports coming in were saying. It was hard to believe his father had let his guard down enough that someone had gotten the better of him.

Gathering together, Madara led the men back to the battle front to collect the wounded and dead that hadn’t been brought back initially. He felt an odd sort of detachment seeing his father like this. He laid in a pool of his blood, stabbed through his back and into his lungs. There had been no one at his side, most of his men either dead, dying, or retreating from the losing battle.

He just stared down at the body of his father before someone nudged him. It was quiet as he and another carried his father’s body back to the compound. His dark eyes set ahead, only thought of moving one foot in front of the other. He had no parents left. Mother was gone ten years earlier, and now his father was gone in a single moment. He couldn’t help but think of the last time they had spoken - it had been in anger. He couldn’t even remember the last time he and his father had had kind words for each other. He should have felt sadder than he did. But he supposed the father he had loved as a child died with his mother.

His brothers were somber when he told them the news. Neither showed much emotion. It wasn’t much of a surprise. Their father had been a changed man after their mother had died - Tajima hadn’t been the kind and loving man he had been before. Even after the confrontation between himself and his father, Tajima was still distant with them. But thankfully had saved all his aggression for Madara. He had thanked the gods above for small miracles.

It wasn’t until he was back in the safety within the compound’s walls that it brought on an even more startling revelation: he would be Clan Head. Twenty was young, he felt too young to be a Clan Head. But there was no one else to take his father’s place. Even those who held more experience than he, weren’t close to his raw power. He and his brothers had climbed through the ranks over the years. He was seen as one of the most powerful, Kuro wasn’t far behind him and Izuna showed so much promise at his age. It was only natural that the clan would look to him. Kuro was only seventeen, and Izuna was just now allowed on the battlefront at fourteen. It had to be him.

—

It was that coming spring that Madara was named Clan Head of the Uchiha. It wasn’t a celebration as he imagined- this should have been for Myoko. It’s what he had always pictured as a child. Seeing Myoko take the mantle of Clan Head. Even after her death it wasn’t something he dwelled on. His father had a number of years ahead of him, strong in both body and mind Madara never imagined taking over at such a young age. Honestly he never pictured seeing his father dead. He always felt so larger than life

What’s more, it felt like a second funeral for his father rather than celebrating him ascending to leader. It was by far one of the most somber events within the compound. Congratulations felt hollow and forced. Not that his clan’s members thought he would turn out as a poor leader but Tajima had led them for fifteen years and now he was gone. Far sooner than any had thought. Far too soon for Madara liking.

Sitting in on a council meeting was nothing new. After Mykoto’s death he had begun to join his father at these events. But it was strange to be sitting at the head of the table instead of to the right. Which now seated his brother Kuro and next to him Izuna. It felt surreal to have every dark pair of eyes on him now. He had to lead his people. Not just in battle but their day to day lives. Being a leader meant so much more and he wished he had his father, or even his mother at his side for help. So much more than went into being a Clan Head than he had imagined - it wasn’t just about battles and strategy. He had to think of food, supplies, clothing, home repairs, distribution of land among farmers, readying for winter and hardships ahead. So many more things than he ever expected now thrust upon him with no warning. He held his breath unsure how he could even think through all this, much less breath.

“Madara-sama?” A councilman said finally getting his attention. He wasn’t sure how long he had been staring off into space.

“Yes, sorry, let us proceed.” Madara said after clearing his throat. The title felt too large for his shoulders, he suddenly felt like a child all over again. He forced himself to breath and picked up the meeting agenda. And so his duties as Clan Head began.

[ohnaistars]

The Opal Thief

The Valentine’s Day before my Father died, he gifted my Mother and I each a ring. I got my birthstone: a ruby flanked by diamonds on a gold band. My Mother received a stunning opal set with earrings, a necklace and a ring.  These gifts were meant to show just how special my Mom and I were to my Dad and any normal child would be thrilled to receive such gorgeous jewelry as a gift.  However, I…

[chloesimaginationthings]

You know Henry’s final speech went hard in FNAF

[ciderjacks]

dad issues

+

(I think they were all fundamentally affected by what they saw and just collectively decided not to share the upsetting details)

[lynxgriffin]

Mightier Than The Sword

Gerson had one regret, but now Alvin has many. A fancomic about my thoughts and theories and who -and what- the Knight is!

While not directly connected, I'd say this one is in the same vein as the Deal With The Devil series! Hope you enjoy!

Alt text for this comic under the read more:

Page 1

Panel 1 - Wide shot of the interior of the Boom household. Several monsters are gathered in a clean-looking hall, dressed in somber clothing and talking quietly in small groups. The monsters include QC, Cat Mom, Toriel, Asgore and Mayor Holiday. Father Alvin stands waiting at a door in the hall as his sister, a red-headed turtle monster in a pink dress, exits through the door and speaks to him. “Alvin…he’s ready for you.”

Panel 2 - Mid shot as Alvin prepares to enter the room. Ms. Boom steps out of the way, and puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Both of them look somber. 

Panel 3 - Alvin enters the room, mostly dark and lit by a few candles on a nearby desk. Gerson Boom is lying on a bed ahead of him, watching him enter. Alvin closes the door behind him and says, “Father, I’m here.”

Panel 4 - Alvin approaches his father, lying in bed. The bedroom has a few amenities, including a footstool set off to the side, a large rug bearing the delta rune, and a massive bookcase filling the entire back wall. A few books and papers litter the ground. Alvin bows his head, and says, “The hammer is ready for…for afterwards.”

Gerson just smiles, and responds, “Wa ha, is it? Well, it’ll do fine, I suppose.”

Panel 5 - Closer shot of Gerson extending his right hand towards Alvin. He’s smiling still, content with where he is. “Come here, son.”

Page 2

Panel 1 - Closeup as Alvin takes his father’s hand in his own, and clasps it tight. “Whatever you need…I’m here,” he says from offscreen.

Panel 2 - Alvin kneels by his father’s bedside, still clasping his hands. Gerson says, “Of course you are. Wa ha…you’re such a good and kind man, Alvin.”

Panel 3 - Closeup on Alvin as he just holds on to his father’s hand. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes. 

Panel 4 - Focus on Gerson as he holds up a hand to conspiratorially whisper to Alvin. “And I know I can trust you with a secret, right?”

Panel 5 - Closeup on Alvin as he looks back up, face earnest. “...Of course.”

Panel 6 - Gerson holds up one finger as he speaks to Alvin. “I told your sister I had no regrets, but that was a BIT of a fib! I’m afraid I have one regret…”

Panel 7 - Side view of Alvin as he learns closer, his face now worried. “Father?...”

Page 3

Panel 1 - Focus on Gerson as he leans back on his pillow, looking up at the ceiling. “I wish I had started earlier. Writing stories, I mean. Seein’ you an’ your sister’s eyes light up whenever I read you a new chapter…and then seeing all that joy from so many young folks after those stories were published!” he says, looking wistful.

Panel 2 - Alvin watches on sadly as Gerson continues, “It was the greatest feeling in the world, Alvin. It’s what life’s all about, y’know. Helping the young folks grow.”

Panel 3 - Gerson closes his eyes and looks back towards the ceiling again, still wistful. “So, I wish I’d started writing stories sooner.”

Panel 4 - Closeup on Alvin as he bows his head, still holding Gerson’s hand. “I truly do cherish those times you read to us, father…” he says.

Panel 5 - Closeup on Gerson as he closes his mind with happy memories. “Me too, Alvin. It’s a shame…I’ve still got so many tales to tell! But–”

Panel 6 - Gerson is interrupted by a round of hacking coughs. His time is fast approaching.

Panel 7 - Gerson settles back in to his bed and says, “The Angel’s given me SO many good, happy years. Doesn’t seem fair to ask for more.”

Panel 8 - Closeup on Alvin as he continues to hold his father’s hand tight. “This doesn’t seem fair, either…” he says, tears still pricking at his eyes.

Page 4

Panel 1 -  Insert closeup of Gerson as he smiles at his son. “That’s life, Alvin!” He doesn’t seem bothered by his imminent passing.

Panel 2 - Side view as Gerson leans in closer to Alvin again, hand raised, back to sharing his secrets. “But, knowin’ my secret…there’s something I’d like to ask of you.”

Alvin faces his father with seriousness. “Anything,” he replies.

Panel 3 - Closeup on Gerson, as he looks hopefully at Alvin. “You have a good heart, Alvin. I want you to know this joy, too.”

Panel 4 - Gerson continues in the next panel: “Please try writin’ stories of your own, alright?” Closeup on Alvin as he looks shocked and a bit worried by the request.

Panel 5 - Mid shot as Alvin holds up a hand to Gerson in protest. He says, “Father, I…I have no talent for writing fiction. Not like YOU.”

Panel 6 - Closeup on Gerson as he refutes his son: “Hogwash! I know you can.”

Panel 7 - Wide shot as Alvin stands up, and looks around the room. “No, I…”

In the foreground, there’s Gerson’s desk, currently showing some lit candles, some paper, an inkwell, a notebook, and his favorite fountain pen.

Page 5

Panel 1 - Closeup as Alvin grabs two objects off of the desk: the small notebook and the fountain pen. Offscreen, he says, “If you just…”

Panel 2 - Back at Gerson’s bedside, Alvin pulls up the footstool and puts the pen and notebook in front of him, intending to use it. He faces his father, and says, “Tell me your ideas, I could write them down, and–”

Gerson interrupts him: “‘Fraid it doesn’t work that way, Alvin!”

Panel 3 - Gerson holds up both of his hands and smiles as he explains: “My tales are between my soul and the pen. You’ll need to make your own.”

Panel 4 - Gerson watches as Alvin, tears in his eyes, looks down at the notebook and pen in hand. “I–I cannot…” Alvin starts, looking despondent.

Panel 5 - Side view of Alvin as tears continue to stream from his eyes. He says, “Not without you!” In the background, in grayscale, there is a scene from Alvin’s memory: Gerson reading a book to his two children by the fire. Gerson looks happy, and both kids are enraptured, with Alvin clinging to a cat doll that looks like Seam.

Panel 6 - Closeup on Gerson, his face now more worried and pleading towards Alvin. Gerson says, “Y-you can… It’s all I ask…”

Panel 7 - Gerson turns away as he’s again interrupted by a round of terrible sounding coughs. Alvin stands holding the notebook and pen in the foreground.

Page 6

Panel 1 - Horror comes over Alvin’s face as his father continues to cough loudly, clutching his chest. He realizes that his father might be close to death now.

Panel 2 - Wider overhead shot as Alvin turns away from Gerson, looking frantically around the room. “No! Not yet!--” he says desperately. Gerson is still racked with coughs.

Panel 3 - Closeup as Alvin grabs the candles from the desk–

Panel 4 - And then pulls a book from the bookshelf, with the delta rune on the front –

Panel 5 - And then finally pulls out what appears to be a beaded rosary, with the delta rune made of beads at the end of it.

Panel 6 - Wider shot as Alvin places the objects in front of him, candles to the side, holy book in front of him. Gerson can only lay there as he does so, trying to catch his breath.

Panel 7 - Front view of Alvin as he clasps his hands together in front of his face, the rosary threaded between his fingers. He closes his eyes and bows his head in prayer. “Angel…Angel above! Please, heed your servant’s prayer!”

Page 7

Panel 1 - Closeup on Alvin as he continues to pray, the candles glowing around him. He keeps his eyes shut even as tears well in them. “I know you call back my father’s soul, but please! Please refrain!”

Panel 2 - Gerson desperately reaches a hand out towards his son, shaking, but unable to reach him. In the foreground, the fountain pen sits on the footstool between them. “A-Alvin…” Gerson’s voice is shaky now.

Panel 3 - Aerial shot as Alvin prays over the book, and Gerson is still confined to the bed, only able to watch. “This world still NEEDS his gifts!” Alvin says. “I pray to you, don’t take them from us now!” The shadows around Alvin start to grow strange, not matching the candlelight.

Panel 4 - Gerson continues to hold out a hand, now not looking well. “No…”

Panel 5 - Closeup on the candles as they spark to life, now glowing stronger.

Panel 6 - A strange bright glow begins to emanate from Gerson. Behind him, the books in the bookcase all rattle and shift as if in a localized earthquake. The colors of the room grow brighter and stranger.

Panel 7 - Still reaching out a desperate hand, Gerson lets out a soft breath. His soul, an upside-down white heart, comes up from his body. On the footstool in the foreground, the fountain pen also begins to levitate, as if by magic.

Page 8

Panel 1 - Front shot of Alvin as he continues to pray desperately, his head bowed and hands together. “Grant us the love shown between his soul and the pen!” Behind him, the colors have grown stark and bright, and a shadow resembling the angel looms behind Alvin.

Panel 2 - Alvin looks up to discover something amazing and terrible: Gerson’s soul has been drawn to the fountain pen, and begins to flow down into it.

Panel 3 - Closeup as Gerson’s soul is completely absorbed into the pen, hovering high over the bed.

Panel 4 - The candles turn strange blue and pink colors, and the books in the bookcase shake and rattle relentlessly.

Panel 5 - Extreme closeup on Alvin’s eyes as he sees this miracle; the light of his father’s soul reflected in his eyes.

Panel 6 - Closeup as the pen suddenly drops, and clatters back on to the footstool.

Panel 7 - Wide aerial shot as the room very suddenly goes completely dark and silent, the bright colors and lights now gone. Alvin stands up and backs away from the bed, still clutching the rosary, his face filled with horror. Gerson now lies unmoving in his bed, having passed away.

Page 9

Panel 1 - The same shot as the first panel of the first page, with the other monsters waiting in the hallway. No one says anything as Alvin emerges from the bedroom, leaning on the door for support, his head bowed. Everyone in the room knows that Gerson has just passed, although they don’t know the rest.

Panel 2 - An establishing shot of the forest and mountains surrounding Hometown…the skies are a dark, gloomy gray.

Panel 3 - Above shot of Gerson’s newly dug grave. At the bottom of a small pit lies Gerson’s hammer, covered in his dust. Politics Bear stands over the grave, holding a shovel. 

Panel 4 - Closeup as the shovel begins to dump dirt over the fresh grave.

Panel 5 - Another closeup of Gerson’s headstone, with bundles of fresh funerary flowers laid in front of it.

Panel 6 - Wide shot of Gerson’s funeral. Alvin stands over his father’s grave, reading last rites from one of his books. Lots of monsters are in attendance, including Alphys and Undyne, Napstablook, the Holiday and Dreemurr families, and more. A very young Kris, Noelle and Asriel are present, but Dess is not. Everyone is dressed in dark mourning attire.

Panel 7 - After the funeral, Toriel approaches Alvin and puts a hand on his shoulder. She says, “Beautifully said, Alvin. I know your father is watching proudly by the side of the Angel.” Alvin looks distant and mournful.

Panel 8 - A closeup of the fountain pen laying forgotten on the desk in Gerson’s room. Gerson is, perhaps, not actually with the Angel right now.

Panel 9 - Back at the funeral, Alvin bows his head, eyes closed. “You are too kind, Toriel,” he says.

Page 10

Panels 1-3 - We see the seasons pass through the changing of the trees…from the barren white trees of winter, to colorful pink blooms for spring, to the bright oranges and reds of fall.

Panel 4 - Sometime much later, Alvin again enters his father’s old room, alone.

Panel 5 - Much of Gerson’s room has remained untouched. The fountain pen still sits on his old writing desk in the foreground. Alvin steps inside, and carefully turns on the overhead light. “It’s been years,” he says.

Panel 6 - Alvin cautiously approaches the pen, which seems to loom large ahead of him. He hesitantly picks it up.

Panel 7 - Alvin places some blank pages on the writing desk. “Surely…”

Panel 8 - Alvin sits in front of the blank pages, still holding the pen cautiously. “Surely by now, I can do it.” He’s going to try writing.

Panel 9 - Closeup as Alvin dips the pen in the inkwell, and it comes away full of ink.

Panel 10 - Closeup as Alvin holds the pen over the blank page. The pen trembles slightly in his grip.

Panel 11 - Alvin tries to put pen to paper, but he’s still trembling. He looks down with great anxiety. “I…I…”

Panel 12 - Closeup on Alvin’s face as he looks more panicked, shaking and sweating. In the background, his memory of his father’s soul being absorbed into the pen plays back at him. This is still his fault.

Panel 13 - Closeup again as Alvin’s hand shakes uncontrollably, and the pen with it. Ink spots begin to dapple the blank page–

Page 11

Panel 1 - Alvin’s shaking hand accidentally knocks over the inkwell, and it spills black ink all over the blank page.

Panel 2 - Alvin picks up the ruined paper and folds it in half to try and stem the ink spillage. He quietly curses to himself. 

Panel 3 - Closeup as Alvin holds his head in his hand. It’s clear that this isn’t going to work. “I can’t…” 

Panel 4 - Closeup as Alvin puts the ink-stained paper back on the desk, and quickly grabs up the pen and inkwell.

Panel 5 - Taking the pen and inkwell, Alvin exits his father’s room again, head bowed and expression sad.

Panel 6 - Left behind, the folded paper slowly peels apart and unfolds…

Panel 7 - To reveal that the spilled ink has created a rorschach ink blot image of a titan. 

Page 12

Panel 1 - Wide shot as Alvin trudges down the streets of Hometown, alone. His head his bowed, and he’s still clutching the articles he took with him. It’s almost nighttime, and the sky is dark. “I cannot bear this kind of burden,” he says to himself.

Panel 2 - Shot from behind Alvin as he approaches the school building. It’s dark, and no students or teachers should be there. “Maybe you belong where you always have…”

Panel 3 - Now indoors, Alvin continues down the empty hallway towards a particular destination. “With the youth.”

Panel 4 - Alvin opens the door to the storage closet at the end of the hall. It opens with a soft creak. “Teaching. Telling stories,” Alvin continues to say to himself.

Panel 5 - Alvin places the fountain pen and inkwell on a small shelf in the storage closet. The closet is almost completely black. 

Panel 6 - The inkwell and pen are left on the shelf as Alvin closes the door behind him. His expression is mournful as he locks these reminders of his father away. “Inspiring someone better suited,” he says, hoping this is a suitable escape of his responsibility.

Page 13

Panel 1 - But in the storage closet, the objects are subject to something else already there: the grand Dark Fountain. The pen, ink and papers all fall into the darkness of the fountain–

Panel 2 - And start to change, the pen seemingly turning into liquid itself–

Panel 3 - As the pen falls deeper and deeper into the dark, the liquid begins to reshape into something new, something resembling a person–

Panel 4 - Until it lands on empty ground, now a person in knight’s armor, knelt over and holding his head in his hands.

Panel 5 - The Knight comes to, and starts to become more aware. He’s dressed in armor resembling the dark metallic sheen of the fountain pen, his mask resembling the pen tip. A bright deep red cape flows from his shoulders, and a single red-orange feather tops the helmet. “Where…am I?”

Panel 6 - The Knight again touches his helmet with both hands, as if not sure exactly what he is.

Panel 7 - Interior shot of the helmet, which reveals a figure much like Gerson…but much younger, more idealized-looking, with colors not matching his actual self. A Dark World interpretation. “WHY am I…?”

Panel 8 - A closeup of the Knight’s hand, slightly trembling.

Panel 9 - The Knight stares down at his own hands as realization begins to flood him, or at least something that looks like realization. “Wait. I see why. I KNOW.” he says.

 Page 14

Panel 1 - The Knight holds up his hand, and a sword appears in it in a flash of lights. The sword resembles the tip of a fountain pen, almost split neatly in two. “I serve the Lightners! That is my purpose!” Says the Knight. 

Panel 2 - The Knight draws the sword back with great fervor and determination. His thoughts echo around him in strong letters: “A purpose so bright, so clear…”

Panel 3 - In the final panel, the Knight drives the sword into the ground, causing an eruption of black ink-like material to spew from the ground…the creation of a new Dark Fountain. In the fountain itself, words reflect his purpose: “I EXIST TO GIVE THEM STORIES FOREVER.”

[bixels]

Learning that fans hated Applejack and called her "boring" is crazyyy to me because I genuinely, unironically believe AJ's the most complex character in the main six.

Backstory-wise, she was born into a family of famers/blue collar workers who helped found the town she lives in. She grew up a habitual liar until she had the bad habit traumatized outta her. She lost both her parents and was orphaned at a young age, having to step up as her baby sister's mother figure. She's the only person in the main gang who's experienced this level of loss and grief (A Royal Problem reveals that AJ dreams about memories of being held by her parents as a baby). She moved to Manhattan to live with her wealthy family members, only to realize she'll never fit in or be accepted, even amongst her own family. The earlier seasons imply she and her family had money problems too (In The Ticket Master, AJ wants to go to the gala to earn money to buy new farm equipment and afford hip surgery for her grandma).

Personality-wise, she's a total people-pleaser/steamroller (with an occasional savior complex) who places her self worth on her independence and usefulness for other people, causing her to become a complete workaholic. In Applebuck Season, AJ stops taking care of herself because of her obsessive responsibilities for others and becomes completely dysfunctional. In Apple Family Reunion, AJ has a tearful breakdown because in she thinks she dishonored her family and tarnished her reputation as a potential leader –– an expectation and anxiety that's directly tied to her deceased parents, as shown in the episode's ending scene. In The Last Roundup, AJ abandons her family and friends out of shame because believes she failed them by not earning 1st place in a rodeo competition. She completely spirals emotionally when she isn't able to fulfill her duties toward others. Her need to be the best manifests in intense pride and competitiveness when others challenge her. And when her pride's broken, she cowers and physically hides herself.

Moreover, it's strongly implied that AJ has a deep-seated anger. The comics explore her ranting outbursts more. EQG also obviously has AJ yelling at and insulting Rarity in a jealous fit just to hurt her feelings (with a line that I could write a whole dissection on). And I'm certain I read in a post somewhere that in a Gameloft event, AJ's negative traits are listed as anger.

Subtextually, a lot of these flaws and anxieties can be (retroactively) linked to her parents' death, forcing her to grow up too quickly to become the adult/caregiver of the family (especially after her big brother becomes semiverbal). Notice how throughout the series, she's constantly acting as the "mom friend" of the group (despite everything, she manages to be the most emotionally mature of the bunch). Notice how AJ'll switch to a quieter, calmer tone when her friends are panicking and use soothing prompts and questions to talk them through their emotions/problems; something she'd definitely pick up while raising a child. Same with her stoicism and reluctance at crying or releasing emotions (something Pinkie explicitly points out). She also had a childhood relationship with Rara (which, if you were to give a queer reading, could easy be interpreted as her first 'aha' crush), who eventually left her life. (Interestingly enough, AJ also has an angry outburst with Rara for the same exact reasons as with EQG Rarity; jealous, upset that someone else is using and changing her). It's not hard to imagine an AJ with separation anxiety stemming from her mother and childhood friend/crush leaving. I'm also not above reading into AJ's relationship with her little sister (Y'all ever think about how AB never got to know her parents, even though she shares her father's colors and her mother's curly hair?).

AJ's stubbornness is a symptom of growing up too quickly as well. Who else to play with your baby sister when your brother goes nonverbal (not to discount Big Mac's role in raising AB)? Who else to wake up in the middle of the night to care for your crying baby sister when your grandma needs her rest? When you need to be 100% all the time for your family, you tend to become hard-stuck with a sense of moral superiority. You know what's best because you have to be your best because if you're aren't your best, then everything'll inevitably fall apart and it'll be your fault. And if you don't know what's best –– if you've been wrong the whole time –– that means you haven't been your best, which means you've failed the people who rely on you, which means you can't fulfill your role in the family/society, which makes you worthless . We've seen time and time again how this compulsive need to be right for the sake of others becomes self-destructive (Apple Family Reunion, Sound of Silence, all competitions against RD). We've seen in The Last Roundup how, when no longer at her best, AJ would rather remove herself from her community than confront them because she no longer feels of use to them.

But I guess it is kinda weird that AJ has "masculine" traits and isn't interested in men at all. It's totally justified that an aggressively straight, misogynistic male fandom would characterize her as a "boring background character." /s

At the time of writing this, it's 4:46AM.

[sarahwatchesthings]

I love British mystery shows set in beautiful peaceful quaint idyllic towns full of simple happy folk who are constantly murdering the shit out of each other.

[nolvini]

death junior

[manquesit0]

INDIE KIDS 🌟

[basalting]

after jasons death bruce "accidentally" slips harvey a crowbar while hes in arkham and kisses his cheek and says, voice soft and colder than ice, "make him hurt for me honey"

it takes 6 guards to sedate and drag two face off the joker the next time two face sees him and for the rest of their lives as soon as harvey sees the joker he goes after him like a rabid dog.

[hmura-hmara]

“You were right. You were right about me. Tell your sister…you were right.”

[dyinggirldied]

You know, imagine Danny decides to take on millions of jobs (that never last long) just so he can have something to put on his resume and to also experience life in a weird way after he makes peace with his half-death.

One of the jobs being the background actor. Usually no one bothers him much until this one crazy man, the director who insists on him doing the main role of his upcoming movie.

And what's that movie you may ask? The movie about the life and death of the tragic Jason Todd-Wayne.

Meanwhile, the one doing the role of Bruce Wayne is none other than Jason Todd, or whatever fake name he is using. He was caught by the unconventional director whilst on his merry way.

[lotus-pear]

free will is drawing ur two favorite characters together and making them gay

[greenbloods]

love how both tywin and ned are genre definingly different from the predecessors from their houses. lannisters have always been the clever house, from lann the clever swindling casterly rock to tyland lannister splitting kings landing's treasury. but tywin's 'low cunning' and use of brutal crushing military force to solve his problems which he employs in the reyne-tarbeck rebellion and the scouring of the riverlands and the red wedding is different from the historical version of house lannister. it's a new brand of lannisterism, tywin's version, and it is this version of lannister legacy that he passes on to his children.

ned on the other hand very much likes to distance himself from the stark features of the wild and the wolf's blood, which other starks like brandon and rickard and cregan and even lyanna are defined by, adopting instead an ethos of duty and honor more like the tully words or his foster father jon arryn. he does this because he thinks that it is this wolf's blood that killed them in the end. just like the lannister kids contend with their father's idea of a good lannister, the starklings contend with their father's idea of a good stark.

[kimanukii]

cute games and scary games ily

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

Clone

~

Danny has heard about Superman's dislike for his clone,

Dead men do tell tales.

Danny grows angry with Superman,

There he was showing hate to his clone, his flesh, his blood,

Conner wasn't in the wrong,

He was just a child

He didn't ask to be created this way.

Danny hated Clark Kent

More and more with each story he heard from the ghosts around him, Danny knew what it was like to be cloned to feel that violation of his person, but he could never hate Ellie,

His clone

His cousin

His sister

His daughter

His family

She was precious to him and her being a clone would never lower the amount of love he held towards her.

So to see this hero, this adult, not give two shits about Conner?

Oh that burned

So he decided to do something about it, If Superman didn't want Conner then he would take him, show him the love and care that should have been his from the very beginning from what should have been his own family.

Danny could teach him more about Krypton than Superman could ever wish to know, show him his birthright.

~

Danny & Ellie on their way to surprise adopt Conner: "New family, new family~!"

Connor: "Why do I feel like something very important is going to happen?"

~

Superman feeling like he's being followed

The Krypton ghosts following him around being disappointed in him, and going back to the King to tell him all the things he's done.

~

The Justice League summoning King Phantom

Danny takes one look at Superman and is ready to give him the beating of his life

Danny: "You want a deal? Sure! In return for it I want 20 minutes alone with Supes over there, no reason why!

~

Danny seeing Superman after another ghost told him how bad he's been treating Conner:

~

Just an Idea