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whore-ibly-hot · 1 year ago

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Yan!Farm-boy x Reader

'City Boys ain't worth nothin'

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Smut, NON-CON, mentions of exs, p-in-v sex, mentions of religon, mentions of conservatives, bondage, mentions of marriage, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of divorce, female and male genitalia, female reader, pet names, sub-par writing of southern accent.

(AN: Had fun with this one!)

Sitting on your porch, you sip from a cup of sweet tea provided by your lovely Aunt May, when you hear the sound of a truck approaching. A cloud of dust can be seen flying up from the dirt road as the beaten-up yellow pick up from the McCall farm rolls up the edge of your aunt's driveway. A freckle faced, redheaded boy parks the car, and hops out, his face and arms already red from having been working in the sun all day. You huff, but call out to your aunt. "Aunt May! That McCall boy's here!" You yell, a twinge of annoyance in your voice.

Ever since your parents split up, you moved from the city to live with your aunt May in this godforsaken hick town. You've always seen yourself as a city-girl, and just the thought of spending even a month on some dusty farm in the middle of nowhere made you want to gag. Despite the fact you've been here for several months now, the feeling has not gone away. Aunt May is nice, but you miss your friends, and you would rather die than go to another country-bumpkin harvest festival or Sunday service. Your predicament isn't helped by Joey McCall, the youngest son of the McCall family. From what you've gathered, the McCall's have been the largest family in this county for years. While not necessarily rich, they are well-known as salt-of-the-earth people, always willing to help. The McCall family has six kids, with the oldest four already married and starting their own families in the county. It seems that's Joey's goal too.

Everyday, even before you arrived in town, Joey was hired as a farmhand for your aunt, tending to animals and mucking the horses. He took pride in his work, and it only furthered his position as a town darling. When you arrived, despite your arrogance and clear disgust at your new life, he feels that you just need to see how great it is to live in a community like this. Joey hadn't really ever felt anything serious for the girls from town, and some would even say he didn't seem like the romantic type. This was far from the truth, as it was plain as day what he wanted when he would go doe-eyed at the preachers sermons on marriage, and god's purpose for it. He hasn't relented since he met you. Flowers, offering you baked goods, offering to do your chores, whatever you need to get him on your good side. Frankly, you can't stand him. It's not that you hate him persay, but you want nothing to do with this community of red-necks, and you would NEVER sink so low as kissing one of these country bumpkins sons.

Joey hops up the porch with a grin, adjusting the strap of his overalls as he approaches you. 'Aunt May, please hurry up and give him his chores already!' You think, trying to suppress rolling your eyes. "Mornin', stranger!" He teases. "It's a nice morning, sun's not too hot neither..." You nod, trying to simply wait out the conversation. He waits for you to speak, and when you don't, he sighs, but is happy to do the talking. "I'm glad I ran into you, I hadn't seen ya the last few times I visited. I-I sure hope you're not avoidin' me!" He laughs awkwardly, his grin faltering a little when you don't deny that this was your intention. He clears his throat, and quickly turns around, grabbing something from his back pocket. He thrusts his hand out, and a bundle of mixed flowers and weeds rests in it, still covered in dirt. You look disgusted at the half-dead bouquet.

"I don't want that." You say. His hand shakes a little, and he rubs the back of his neck with his free-hand. "Yeah, I understand. I was actually riding Maisie this morning, and by the time I saw these out in the field, she'd trampled right over em' with her hooves." He tosses the bouquet away over the porch, and it falls apart immediately upon impact with the ground. "It was stupid a' me to think ya'd like em'. Worth a shot though!" You open your mouth to retort, but before you can your aunt finally comes to the porch.

"Mornin' Ma'am!" Joey greets, and she responds sweetly, before pointing out a few things round the farm from her spot on the porch she'd like him to get done. He nods, and after grabbing the toolbox he'd always leave by the stairs, he sets off. You decide you've had enough off outside for today, and head back inside, placing your now empty glass on the counter.

Several hours go by, and as you flick through the channels on the tv, (most of which are static due to the terrible signal out here), you hear your aunt call you from the kitchen. As you enter, you can see she's finishing preparing lunch, a salad bowl to her left and a knife in her hand. Her free hands steadies some lettuce on the cutting board. "Hiya kiddo', how's your day been so far?" She asks. You don't hate your aunt, and lie to protect her feelings. "Fine. Just fine." You lean against the counter. "That poor McCall boy has been out there all mornin', hasn't even come in to ask for a glass of water." She sighs. You roll your eyes. "Be a dear and bring him this sandwich, would ya?" You want to say no more than anything, but when your aunt raises her brow and gives you that look, you quickly take the plate and scurry out to the barn.

As you approach, the sound of hammering and heavy breathing can be heard. As you enter, you see Joey trying to patch the gate on one of the horse-stalls. It seems he sent the horses out into the field, as the barn is empty save for you and him. "My aunt wanted you to have some lunch." You say coldly, placing the plate on top of a turned-over bucket which you considered to be the only place clean enough for it. Joey looks up, eyes wide in appreciation. "Well, thank ya' very much! I'll admit, I've been getting might hungry sittin' out here tryna' fix this darned gate." He huffs. He thinks it's a problem with the hinge. You let out a 'hmm', in response, and begin to leave, when Joey abruptly hops up and grabs your wrist. As soon as he sees your face change to one of disgust and shock, he recoils.

"Sorry to spook ya', I just wanted to ask you something before ya' ran of like ya' always do..." He places the hammer down, and his hands come to fidget at his side. "There's a party being held soon, outside the church. It's a picnic on the lawn sorta' thing, we have one every year. It's a real big deal." You raise an eyebrow. "I guess what I'm tryna' ask is if you'd considering going with me? I could show ya' around, help you meet some of the other townsfolk. Hell' ya' could even meet my sisters! I bet ya'd get along swell." His smile become shy, his freckle disappearing into his skin as a bright red blush covers his face. He hopes you think it's just a sunburn. You sigh, and shake your head. "I'm sorry, Joey. I don't think so..." You say. He frowns, but quickly nods. "Nah, I get it. It's kind of a big event. Maybe we could start with something smaller, maybe just the two of us? Say- I know a real nice spot north of the creek, I could take ya down there, a-and we could-" You let out a loud groan, and stomp your foot.

"No, Joey! It's not that I don't want trampled flowers, or I don't want to go to some big event with all you hick's, it's that I don't want you!" You exclaim. His face falls immediately, that light in his eyes extinguished like squashing one of the fire flies you'd see in the fields on a hot evening. "What..." He mumbles, shaking his head a little. "I don't want to date some small-town guy, okay! I don't even want to be in this town. I have a life back in the city, where I belong. Shit, I've got a BOYFRIEND!" You yell. His sadness at your rejection falls for a minute, and he seems to freeze his panicked breaths. "Ya- Ya' gotta' beau already?" He asks, his voice trembling as he swallows heavily. "A beau? What the hell does that mean, some kind of country talk? Yes, I have a boyfriend, and a very handsome one from the city at that." You sneer, turning your nose up at the boy.

"He pretty?" Joey mumbles, licking his lips as his gaze falls to the floor. You raise an eyebrow at the odd question. "Yes, he's very handsome." You respond. "S' got a lotta' money?" He asks. You nod again, not bringing yourself to be able to speak at Joeys sudden change in demeanor. When Joey does finally look up again, his face is no longer blushing red, but red with shame and embarrassment. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes. "W-well, it ain't gonna work out. I know how boys from the city are. They only want one thing from girls... that's what the preacher says." He points out the barn door. "You know Peggy, from the grocery store? She went and ran off with a boy from the city once. H-he knocked her up and left her alone, no where else to go. She came back to town, and she eventually married my brother Samuel. She always says he's the best thing that happened to her. He saved her..." Joey whimpers, his fist trembling at his side. You scoff. "Please, boys from the city have plenty to offer-" He cuts you off. "MORE THAN ME?!" He yells, a sob cracking his voice. "Have you done it with your pretty beau? Has he made you feel good?" You gasp, shocked at his vulgar question. "I don't have to tell you that..." You exclaim. "I'm not asking, I'm tellin' you to tell me." His voice is now filled with an equal tone of contempt, though you don't think it's direct at you, but rather the image of your boyfriend he's conjured up in his head. "He has. We've had sex before, he was my first." You say, swallowing nervously as you try to stand your ground.

"Then lemme ask you one more thing..." Joey huffs. "Is he gonna' marry you? Get ya' a nice house, some pretty dresses, keep ya' safe?" You shrug. "Uh, we're only twenty, we don't need to think about that." Joey shakes his head. "Cause'... Cause' that's what I'd do for ya'. Get you a nice ring, somethin' to match all your pretty dresses and clothes from the city. I'd build ya' a house right on my ma and pa's land, make sure we're still close to the family, but still give us some privacy..." He swallows harshly, taking a few steps towards you. "But most of all, I'd make sure you were safe, safe from any city boy who'd try to get off in ya' and then leave." He's now only a few inches from you. "And I intend to do that." He whispers.

You gasp as his calloused hands grab your wrists, turning you around to face the barn wall. He frees one of his hands up and moves to the stall door he was working on, bumping it open with his hips and shutting it behind the two of you. "L-Let go you brute! Get off of me!" You yell. He rips the red patterned bandanna he usually wears around his neck to keep the sun off, and quickly shoves the cloth in between your pretty, soft lips. As you try to kick, your feet only seem to bounce off the boys firm chest. "That's one thing about us farm boys, we're pretty strong. Firm, ya' know?" He whispers. He forces you to turn over, and you sit on the floor of the stall with your back to the wooden wall of the barn. Joey fumbles around, looking for something. His hand brushes across a rough rope for leading the horses mixed into the hay of the stall, and in just a few moments your hands are bound up to a horse feeder, just above your head. You whine through the gag, tears beginning to fall down your face. He shakes his head.

"Nah, c'mon now... don't cry. It's gonna be okay, I promise ya'." He whispers, brushing away one of your tears with the pad of his thumb. "Don't be scared, I'm not gonna do anything that hurts ya', I just wanna prove to you how good I can be. I realise, I can give you all the things that I said earlier, but... but I know the one thing that city boys have given you." Your eyes widen when you understand his words. He smiles softly. "I know the pastor says we should wait till' marriage, but I kinda need to convince ya' to marry me, and I know now to do that I have to prove that I can give everything some city boy can, and more." His hand comes to rest on your knee, before he uses the palm of his hand to bunch up the fabric of your pink skirt, now smudged with dirt. "Sorry about the location, didn't want anyone to see us. I-I'll buy ya' another dress after this, one even prettier, okay?" He says. Hiking up your skirt, your trembling thighs are visible to him, and the sheer lace of your panties allows him to see you without even taking them off. "Wow, I've never seen something as pretty as this..." His fingers trace the top of the lace, brushing your outer lips slightly. Despite your fear, the contact with a sensitive spot makes you whimper through the makeshift gag. "Maybe I don't wanna get ya' a new dress, maybe I want to see ya' in more of these." He laughs a little, rubbing the back of his neck.

His rough hands try to pull down the fabric around your womanhood, though your resistance makes it hard. Eventually, he groans and simply rips the lace in two, tucking it into the pocket of his overalls. "Surely, since this is damaged now, ya' won't need it." He mumbles. He toys with just the fabric in his hands for a moment, his curiosity evident, before he turns back to you. "I'm gonna get a look at ya', okay? See what exactly a pretty girl like you is workin' with." He roughly slots himself in between your knees, making closing them impossible. His large fingers part your folds, giving him a full view of your moist, aroused pussy. He bites his lip, letting out what can only be described as whimper. "G-geez, darlin'. This is definently better than them' health videos they used to show us in the schoolhouse..." He sighs. Joey's face falls for a moment, suddenly insecure.

"I guess you'll be wanting to see me now, too." He removes one hand from your inner thigh, and unclasps the shoulder straps of his overalls. "I-I'll admit, I know there's a little more to all this, but I only really know the basics, so I'm gonna show ya' what I know how to do. Rest assured though, I'm a quick learner." He stammers. His hand is shaking, and it takes several seconds for him to even undo one button on his overalls. Eventually, they fall, resting just below his wait. He lifts his button up shirt slightly, revealing a pair of briefs, and a very prominent bulge. He blushes as he looks down at it, and your eyes widen at the size. "Y'know, I've never had to deal with these before I met ya'. But, sometimes I go home and thinkin' of you is the only way to get em' to go away." His face is even redder with shame. He pulls the briefs down, allowing his cock to spring free. It's thick, and veiny. Somehow, it's freckled, much like his face. He spits into his hand, shivering as he rubs it down his length. "Sorry I don't have something better than my spit. I know it's kinda' gross, but, we are doin' it in a barn." He pulls his hips forward a little, rubbing the tip of his cock against your entrance, which against your will is now soaked with arousal. "See, I've already got you wet, I can do whatever that boyfriend back home can do for ya'." He says.

"Listen, I know ya'd said you've had sex with him, but I know it can still hurt a little. So, I promise to be real gentle with ya'." He stroke your face with his free hand, and presses his chapped lips to your forehead in a tender kiss. "I'll never get over how much softer you are than me..." He whispers. He begins to hump his manhood against your entrance, biting his lips each time he angles away from you instead of penetrating. "Huh, this is a lil' harder than I thought..." He seems upset at the idea he is under-performing. He takes his hand, and with a solid grip on his member, he pushes the tip just past your hymen, making you squeak into the gag. Before he's even fully got the tip in, his legs are shaking at the feeling. "Oh... Oh lord..." He stammers, fighting the urge to put himself in you all at once. He musters all his strength to pull out, then go back in, just a touch deeper this time. After a few thrusts, he's almost bottomed out in you. Despite your shaking head, your pleas for him to stop, muffled by the gag, soon turn to wanton moans. He places his hands against your hips, allowing him to work himself in and out of you. "God, you're so wet, a-and it's tight... God, didn't know you'd be this tight." He shakes his head though, and leans forward. "Not bad though, not a bad thing, darlin'. You feel so good around me, do I make you feel good too?" In a moment of weakness you nod, prompting him to grin widely. He's so overwhelmed in the moment, from the pleasure and happiness, that his eyes begin to swell with tears. He quickens his pace, almost sobbing now. "My pretty darlin', taking me so well. Making me feel so good, such a good girl. Not city boy could give you what ya' need, not like me..." He huffs. He angles his hips up just a bit, so his tip smacks against a spot deep inside you.

At this, you practically convulse, making him continue once he notices your reaction. "I'll make you finish, don't worry. That's what a good beau does, makes you finish..." He groans, his pace now rapid as he hammers at that spot. Both you can him feel a coil forming in your stomachs, ready to burst. "Hah, I think I'm gonna cum to, you wanna' come together?" His minds fills with thoughts as he thinks more on this while chasing his high. "I already said I-I would marry ya', build ya' a house. We could add on an extra room, for a baby." Your eyes widen in panic at the thought. "Don't worry, I wouldn't leave ya' if you got pregnant from this. That's what that city boy did to Peggy, remember?" He moans. "I'd help ya' the whole way. Build our little one a crib, get them clothes, and I'll bet you'd still be beautiful, if your worried about that." He assures you. You can feel his cock twitching inside you, as as the coil inside you bursts, you feel yourself cumming around him. He gags, inhaling a breath at the feeling. Soon, you feel him convulsing to, a warm liquid filling your caverns as he groans. "God, you're milking me, taking all my seed. So good for me... C'mon baby, just let me stay in a little more, fill ya' up." He groans. After a few seconds, he finally pulls out, and pants, wiping some sweat from his brow. He makes sure to close your legs, wanting to keep in all the seed. He chuckles a little. "Y'know, I'm sure that seed'll take pretty quick... my dad says all the McCall boys are fertile..." He pauses .

"That's why I've got so many siblings."

#reader insert #tw.dark content #tw.yandere #x reader #yandere #yandere content #yandere fanfiction #yandere oc #yandere boy #yandere farmer #tw.religion #tw.breeding #tw.noncon #oc Joey #yandere farmboy

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call-memissbrightside · 11 months ago

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As a single parent, you worked overtime to make sure your son had a great Christmas… toys, clothes, all a good mixture of needs and wants.

The warm mug of much needed coffee was cuffed in your hand as you pretended to be at awe of all the presents Katsuma unwrapped.

His excitement made up for being woken up so early, a sleepy smile on your face as you watched Katsuma thank you over and over again for all the things you got him.

Christmas was usually a quiet thing in your household, Katsuma would unwrap all his presents, you’d unwrap whatever craft he made you in class, then the two of you would cuddle on the couch to watch Christmas cartoons. Katsuma would fall back asleep tucked into your side, and Christmas would be over.

Yet—

You hadn’t thought of what Christmas would be now that Katsuma had his father in his life.

A text from Katsuki in the early morning hours explained how he’d be a bit late coming over, something about a bank heist?

Right when Katsuma opened his last present did the doorbell ring, both of you perking up.

“It’s Daddy!” Katsuma’s excitement spiked, and he tumbled over all his toys and wrapping paper scattered across the floor to open the door.

“Ho ho ho brat!” Katsuki’s voice boomed, heavy boots from his hero costume mimicking the jolly man’s costume.

You explained to Katsuki that he shouldn’t go overboard with presents, Katsuma really didn’t need a swimming pool nor an electric car because he was just five, so you really thought he’d simmer it down when it came to gifting presents.

You were dead wrong.

“It’s a puppy!” Katsuma jumped around as his father carried in a small puppy in his arms, you noted how he must of just came back from a mission due to the fact that he had scratches and a rising bruise forming on his face. Nonetheless, your ex looked just as happy, carefully handing over the pup to Katsuma.

“A dog?” You were going to kill him.

Katsuma begged for a dog or any pet every year, but you just couldn’t do it. You worked all the time and lived in an apartment, plus all the responsibility would fall to you because Katsuma was five.

Katsuki had his famous smirk on his face, red eyes taking in your disbelief.

“Yea,” he said nonchalantly. “It’ll live with me, but can come visit when I come over.”

Relief made you fall back against your couch, visions of chasing around a teething puppy evaporating as quick as they formed.

Katsuma forgot all his other presents, now all his attention was on the small puppy.

“Mommy hold it!” He shoved the poor puppy in your lap.

Sensing you weren’t as excited as Katsuma, it curled up in your lap and fell asleep once you started petting his head as your son quickly excused himself to go, quote, “take a leak!”

Laughing, you looked at Katsuki. “You’re rubbing off on him.”

Katsuki snickered, collapsing next to you on the couch, clearly tired but still reached out to stroke the puppy on its head.

“Damn right, he’s my kid.” Katsuki smiled.

He truthfully hadn’t been this excited for Christmas in years, and seeing his sons reaction to his present made up for the fact that he had to fight off some lousy villains in the morning.

“A puppy? You trying to make me look bad?” You joked, still in disbelief that Katsuki ‘won’ Christmas. Not that it mattered, but you knew when Katsuma was asked what he got for the holiday, he’ll bring up the puppy rather then all the other toys you got him.

Katsuki tipped his head back to laugh.

“It’s my first Christmas with him,” he shrugged. “I wanted it to be memorable.”

Katsuki took something out of his pants, before handing you a small box.

“Oh Katsuki, you didn’t have to—,” you were quickly cut off.

“Just open it woman, sheez,” katsuki rolled his eyes.

Opening the box, you gasped, inside was a beautiful necklace with Katsuma’s birthstone and a small ‘k’ dangling next to it.

“So you’ll always have him with you, even when the brats at my house playing with my awesome present.” Katsuki knocked your shoulder with his.

You were touched by the sentiment, and the necklace was beautiful. It was thoughtful, and sweet, but you had something up your sleeve.

“Box on the left, it’s yours.”

Katsuki groaned as he got up to retrieve it, but returned to sitting next to you.

“Katsuma? Are you okay?” You called out to your little boy, slightly worried he was taking some time in the bathroom.

“I’s okay mommy!” His little voice called out. “I got a big dump!”

You and Katsuki both laugh, and the hero opens up his present.

It was a photo album of Katsuma over the years, you smiled fondly of all the photos you remember taking of your baby as Katsuki looked at every page. The last four pages had recent pictures of Katsuki with his son, some sly photos you took when they were together.

“I’m always going to be sorry I held Katsuma from you when he was born,” you explained, the similar guilt weighing heavily on your chest. “But,” you jutted your chin to the photo of Katsuki helping Katsuma ride his bike, “I hope we can make more memories together.”

Katsuki was silent. You worried for a moment you did something wrong when he didn’t say anything. Then—

The puppy barked unhappily from being startled when Katsuki hugged you tightly to his chest.

“Thank you,” he mumbled against your forehead. “This is the best present ever.”

You smiled, eyes becoming teary.

“I guess I ultimately won Christmas,” you teased.

Katsuki barked out a laugh, letting you go and petting the puppy again lazily, flipping through the pages again of the scrap book.

“I guess I can live with taking second place.”

#bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo katuski #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #dad!katsuki #dad!bakugou #bakugo fluff #katsuki fluff

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phantom-dc · 2 years ago

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Batman had to act quickly.

At first he was happy that Jason had been coming over more, and being more agreeable. When Dick asked about his good mood, Jason admitted he had been seeing someone for a little while now. Bruce had been happy for Jason, worried his rage would prevent him from finding love. But that was before he did some digging.

Daniel Fenton. Son of ghost hunters. That fact had worried Bruce. Did he know about Jason's situation? Was he a threat? He couldn't take any risk, not when it came to his children. Batman was going to have some questions for him.

When he had dropped behind Fenton in the alley, things had gone south quickly. Fenton wasn't afraid of him at all. In fact, he had started to taunt him! B was ashamed to admit, something caused this kid to get under his skin. He threatened to make sure Fenton would regret it if he ever hurt Jason, but then Fenton said something odd:

'Why? It's not like its illegal!' Fenton explained the Ecto-acts and the G.I.W., to B's horror. Appearantly everyone could take away his son and torture him in the most gruesome of ways, and they wouldn't get so much as a slap on the wrist! Fenton had 'reassured' him, saying he was just 'observing' Jason... for now. That had earned him a black eye but Batman had bigger things to deal with. Afraid Jason wouldn't believe him, he made sure Nightwing and Signal kept an eye on Fenton. He wouldn't hurt Jason. Bruce had to call a meeting with the JL and JLD. Once those Acts are gone there will be nothing protecting Fenton from prison. He had to be quick.

Meanwhile 2 dead guys were sitting on their couch, one putting a cold compress on the others black eye. 'So let me get this straight. B found out your parents hunt the dead, he interrogated you because he was worried for me, and you insinuated that you were going to vivisect me?' Danny leaned back into Jason. 'I never said I would. I just said it would be totally legal if I did!' Jason laughed. 'You know he's going to go full Batman on you now, right?' 'I don't care, he made me drop my coffee!'

#batman #danny phantom #dc x dp #dp x dc #jason todd #red hood #danny fenton #dead on main #dp x dc prompt

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oraclefreak · 6 months ago

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I think we, DPS fans, don't talk about Charlie during the school's tribute to Neil enough.

He's not singing.

Meeks, Pitts and Knox are singing, letting all their feelings out.

Cameron is singing a little calmer. You can see the sadness in him though.

Todd is stuttering words, not even singing—but he's trying.

Charlie does not sing.

I'm sorry for the picture's quality.

At first I thought he didn't sing because he was angry at Neil for leaving all of them; the Dead Poets, Keating and his dreams of becoming an actor. We saw at the beginning of the film how Charlie tried to convince Neil to speak up to his parents. I think he really wanted Neil to be happy, and he knew he wouldn't be if he stayed silent and pursued being a doctor because of his father.

During Neil and Mr. Keating's talk in the office, Neil mentioned Charlie: "We are not a rich family like Charlie's" (quoted by memory). Charlie tried to make Neil pursue acting when they had different social backgrounds; Charlie could go against his parents and not ruin everything. But Neil was an only child from a family that was mantained by his father and no one else... and not particularly wealthy either.

Even if they had those differences, they didn't separate them. And both of them were boys with dreams they couldn't follow easily. Charlie was more rebellious (especially when it came to school's authorities). Neil was more of the type to go with whatever people wanted. Charlie was more risk-taking. Neil's risk in the whole movie was participating in the play (yes, the club wasn't a Neil risk; it was all of the poets').

Charlie was really proud of Neil for finally following his dreams.

"He's good. He's really good."

Sounds familiar?

"I was good. I was really good."

This parallel makes sense to me, especially if we analyze the very first scene of Charlie and Neil in the movie. As I said, Charlie wanted Neil to speak up to his father. And when he did and it all broke apart; Neil said words Charlie had said about him during the play.

Obviously, Charlie disliked Neil's dad. We can be sure about that, definitely.

The school's tribute to Neil was either Mr. Perry's idea or he gave the permission to do it. The authorities thought of Neil's death as the institution's problem. Keating was suspicious from the beginning because of his unconventional teaching methods (plus Mr. Perry thought Keating told Neil to keep his place in the performance, which he did—but he made it look like it was a real problem... 1950s, let's go).

Charlie didn't think this event of singing words of grief and so on was for Neil. Neil didn't die to be missed. Neil died because he would miss out on what he wanted to do. But that reasoning didn't even come across the authorities' heads.

I think of Charlie as a person who has an internal philosophy, a reasoning that most people wouldn't think of. So, when every single one of his friends are singing because they miss Neil; Charlie does not sing because this is a way to pay respects to Mr. Perry for losing his son. A way to say the authorities are right. A way to say "Neil... poor boy." Neil was miserable because he wasn't free. And his only way to be free was... not living.

I believe this "Charlie wasn't singing" thing can be interpreted in many, many ways. I probably overanalyzed it because 6 years of DPS make someone go insane eventually. What I do think is clear is that Neil and Charlie's friendship was very obvious from the start. And yes, the not singing thing is something to observe and think about... but their whole friendship isn't very talked about in the fandom! And I had the idea to write about not only the movie's scenes that have both of them, but also how I perceive it (hence why I would describe this post as a theory rather than facts).

I would love to see other people's takes on this subject too !!

#dead poets society #dps #dps boys #dps fandom #charlie dalton #neil perry #grae's old interests<3 #grae blogging era

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notjustjavierpena · 1 month ago

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Ofrenda

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Happy Day of the Dead to all of my followers! I hope you’ll take this time to reminisce about the loved ones that you have lost, and smile when you think of them. I thought of my mom the whole time while writing this, and it makes me sad to know that I live in a country where we view death so gloomily when life should be celebrated. I have written this with utmost respect for the Mexican tradition, trying to do endless amounts of research. I have also written this with endless gratitude to be able to express my love for Javier and his family as well as my own mother at the same time. We never get enough time together, so this beautiful holiday is so heartwarming. Hope you like it ❤️!

Summary: You make an altar with your family for Javier’s mother during Día de Los Muertos.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18, depictions of grief, loss of a (grand)parent, family dynamics, so much love in this little family, domestic bliss, non-explicit descriptions of sex, love confessions

Word count: 3k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60151243

Ofrenda

You are in the kitchen, cutting the stems of marigolds on an angle into the sink. The scent of the flowers is citrusy and slightly spicy, complimenting the lemon cookies that are in the oven and nearly done. Beside the sink lies several bare stems too because Lucas is holding a bowl of their petals in his small hands.

He shows it to Inés, “You need to take a handful.”

“But I want cookies,” she only looks down into the bowl of orange for a moment before her attention turns to the oven, her little hands reaching out until you manage to stop her. She makes a noise of complaint but the mood of the room makes her dial down on how much she wants to fuss about it.

“The cookies are not for us!” Her brother replies with a serious look in his eye, clearly feeling authoritative in the task at hand, “They’re for Abuela (Grandma).”

“I’m sure you can have a few of them. She won’t mind,” Javier declares with a chuckle as he enters the kitchen too. His presence makes you smile to yourself, another burst of citrus filling the room as you cut yet another collection of flowers. You’ve filled almost two vases with them, have chosen the ones decorated with your favorite patterns, and fluffed them to look like two balls of sunshine.

“But she needs them. If she doesn’t get them, she doesn’t know where to go,” Lucas insists with a pout when his father crouches down between the two of them. He gives a look of concern as if he is the only one taking this seriously. You look over your shoulder and feel a flash of pride at how sensitive a boy you have made, but you don’t intervene because you know Javier has the situation under control.

“Sí, mijo (yes, my son),” he places a hand on the back of his son’s head, pulling him in to kiss his hair, “They’re for her but I am sure she’ll be happy to see you enjoy them too. She liked sharing with whom she loved.”

“Cookies for grandma and Inés,” Inés says proudly as if she finally understands the importance of the baked goods. Lucas’ expression eases a little as he stares at his baby sister’s longing but then he says her name.

When she whips her head around, he shakes the bowl of flower petals, showing them to her again. You can see how much Javier loves how he is taking this to heart.

“Just a little handful, okay?” Lucas encourages.

Inés’ little fingers dig into the petals, bringing up a much larger fistful of the bright orange marigolds than intended. She stares at them with wide eyes, enchanted by the strong color. Her little mouth falls open with a quiet pretty and she nods seriously. Lucas nudges her with his elbow, directing her back to the task, “Come on, we gotta put them on the ofrenda (altar) so Abuela knows we remember her.”

They exit the kitchen and make their way to the small altar you’ve set up in the living room. You check the timer on the oven but there’s still eight minutes to go, so you and Javier take a vase of flowers each and carry them to the table that’s been draped with a bright, woven cloth, and adorned with pictures, candles, and memories of Javier’s mother.

As you set down the vase of marigolds, you spot the tiny figurine that you have come to know so well too; a figurine of La Virgen de Guadalupe. She stands by the picture of Javier’s mother, face tipping towards her as a silent protector. The photograph of her is from when she was young enough to be just a few years out of high school, smiling widely with her dark hair tied back like you have seen so many times in other photos. She looks so much like Javier and how you remember her from the very first photo you saw of her, the one that you sneakily glanced at back at Don Chucho’s ranch on Javier’s desk in his teenage room. The one that the figurine stood guard over. That was before you knew what kind of life awaited with her son but you’re sure it was when you realized what kind of husband he would be.

Javier sets down his vase as well, his eyes lingering on the photo of his mother for a moment before he busies himself with adjusting the flower arrangement, testing out a few angles. You touch his shoulder in silent support and smile gently at him. It earns you a little smile in return, one that seems full of gratitude and love.

“You okay?” You mouth.

Javier nods. He finally lets go of the vase and at the same time, a deep breath of air, suddenly satisfied with his work because his heart feels lighter. Not long after, he leans in to kiss you briefly on the lips, eager to make you giggle as he steals another peck while you complain about being covered in specks of flour and sap from the flowers. It’s messy, you say. He thinks you’re perfect.

As you draw away from each other, Inés and Lucas scrunch up their faces and crinkle their noses at the display of affection. However, even so, you can see the tiny smiles hidden behind the mock outrage. They stand by a little impatiently as they watch you smooch, a drizzle of orange petals trailing Inés due to her getting distracted and forgetting they’re still in her hand.

“Inés!” Lucas has the same exasperated look on his face as earlier when he notices the mess. You said earlier that it would be Inés’ first year of joining in on creating the altar and understanding its purpose, and Lucas has taken his role in it very seriously. He is clearly feeling the responsibility of teaching her the tradition right now.

“Sorry,” she drags out the word, a guilty expression on her face, and tries to bend down to scoop some of the petals into her palm again, only seeming to increase the mess.

Lucas puts down the bowl of petals to help her, coming off as slightly distressed. He has furrowed his brow as he concentrates, acting as if the entire success of this moment is relying on him, “Abuela can only visit if you put the flowers on the table!”

“Luke,” you crouch down after exchanging a look with Javier. You soothe your son by running a hand up and down his back, “Abuela is always with you. This is just to do something extra special for her.”

“But what if she can’t find her way?” Lucas asks with concern on his face as he puts down the bowl and starts gathering marigold petals, “We have to make it special.”

“Mamá’s right, we are making it special, mijo, because of all the care you’re putting into this. That’s what’ll guide her here tonight, not whether the cempasúchiles (marigolds) are perfectly placed on the table,” Javier reassures gently and crouches down beside the two of you, Inés mirroring him immediately. All four of you start picking up the remaining petals from the floor and Lucas visibly relaxes a little more, reassured that things might not be catastrophic after all.

Your husband takes Inés’ small hands in his and guides her through the process of gently scattering the flowers across the table, their vibrant color standing out beautifully against the crisp white cloth. The orange and gold complement the papel picado on the wall behind the altar too.

“Flowers for Abuela,” Inés scans the sight before her and then claps her hands with a big grin. She beams with pride, so much so that even Lucas finds her joy infectious and smiles as well. Inés points her little fingers to her work, “Making it special!”

“She’ll see those flowers and know you put them there for her,” Javier explains, still crouching on the floor next to Inés. She leans into him. He wraps his arm around her and pulls her even closer so he can plant a little kiss on her cheek, tickling her with his mustache until she giggles.

“Did Abuela like flowers, too?” Lucas asks and moves onto his father’s other side, resulting in him also getting dragged closer. From the look on Lucas’ face, you can see that it has been his plan all along

“She loved them,” Javier answers with a reminiscing smile, “You remember how many flowers there are in Abuelo's (Grandpa) garden, don’t you?”

“Yes!” Both Lucas and Inés say right after each other.

“Abuela planted them and she loved them just as much as she loved lemon cookies,” their dad recalls fondly and there’s a twinkle in his eye as he adds, “Well, almost just as much.”

At the same time, the timer in the kitchen dings. Inés whips her head in your direction expectantly and you laugh softly as she itches to tell you to get a move on,

“I’ll get the cookies,” you say to make Inés sparkle with glee. You give Javier’s shoulder a gentle squeeze before slipping back into the kitchen. You can hear your children chatting softly with their father as they stay by the altar.

In the kitchen, you take the cookies out and place them on a cooling rack, enjoying the familiar scent of sugar and butter that wafts through the kitchen. The cookies are still very hot to the touch but you carefully transfer a bunch of them to a plate.

“Here we go,” you say as you reenter the living room.

“And she had this laugh… Oh, when you really got her going, it would echo through the whole house,” Javier shares.

“Like Mom,” Lucas says and follows you with his eyes.

“Much like Mom, yeah,” Javier agrees and you smile shyly as all eyes land on you. They have shifted to sit down on the floor in front of the altar, moments ago staring up at the colorful display while Javier told stories of his mother. Now, the three of them have stopped talking when they see you place the lemon cookies on the table, anticipation on their faces.

“Hola, esposa (hello, wife),” Javier says with a soft smile, the kind that makes your cheeks warm because you know he loves you.

“There are plenty of Abuela’s favorites left in the kitchen,” you say as you take four cookies from the plate and make sure the rest of them look presentable. Then you kneel down next to your family, handing each of them a still-warm cookie, “Careful, they’re still hot.”

With the altar complete, the four of you sit together on the floor, a quietness settling over you. Between the picture of your mother-in-law, the lit candles flicker and cast soft, dancing shadows. The combined scent of the marigolds and the lemon treats makes the room smell lemony and spicy, and small decorative butterflies catch the eye between the paper banners.

Inés nibbles on her cookie, looking deep in thought, so you reach out to brush her hair out of her face. Her soft voice finally asks, “Do you miss her, Papá?”

Javier stops right as he is about to take another bite of his cookie. He takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly, his expression unreadable for a moment. It seems like a gut punch but one that he has learned to expect from having small children. He thinks for a second then nods. When he speaks, his eyes are shiny as they prick with tears and you can hear a slight trembling in his voice, “I do, baby. I miss her every day.”

Inés looks shocked at having caused her father to cry. She puts her cookie down on the floor and you quickly scoop it up. She crawls to sit in front of him on her knees, wiping away a tear that has made its way down his cheek after reluctantly escaping the corner of his eye, “Are you sad?”

“Yes, sometimes,” he breathes and looks down, sniffs, “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to say sorry,” Lucas argues, looking to you for reassurance.

You nod and move to sit closer to Javier, pulling him into an embrace which he returns by holding your arm. You look at your son while resting your chin on top of Javier’s head, “Go on, Luke.”

Lucas takes a moment to find the right words, visibly skimming through the lessons you have taught him to find the one that applies here. He joins the hug, “Mom says that it's okay to feel sad when we miss someone because it means you really love them… It makes me feel good to miss Mom when I am at school because then I remember her.”

Inés, who has been quietly observing, joins as well. She rests her head against his shoulder, "We love you, Papá."

“I love you too,” he says and the words seem to give him a little courage, “Of course, it makes me sad, mija (my daughter). But having you, your brother, and Mamá here. It helps.”

“I know I say it all the time but I wish I could have met her,” you chime in and kiss the top of his head repeatedly, trying to keep it together yourself, “She sounds like an amazing woman.”

“Inés and I wish that too!” Lucas adds, “We can do this every year!”

“Make cookies!” Inés exclaims excitedly. They both eventually pull back after remembering the baked goods. Returning to lemon cookies laid out near the ofrenda, they chew happily. You snicker at Inés' excuses to eat anything sugary and squeeze Javier tightly before drawing back too.

“I think she’d like that,” Javier sighs with a little smile, taking in the picturesque view of his family.

A few more minutes pass and you gently remind your children of the time, “Alright, it’s getting late. Let’s say goodnight to Daddy and Abuela.”

They exchange hugs and kisses with their father, and then - while she is perched on your hip - you hold Inés near the altar. Both of your kids lay their palms on the table, talking gently.

“Goodnight, Abuela,” Inés says and pats the cloth.

“We love you,” Lucas adds tenderly.

They follow you upstairs to brush their teeth, wash up, and get into their pajamas. You finish bedtime routines with much more hugs and kisses, tucking the both of them in and thanking them for a nice day. Inés still has questions about her grandmother but you tell her that it’ll need to wait for tomorrow. When she seems restless, you trace your finger over her face until she dozes off.

When both kids are asleep, you return downstairs dressed in your own sleepwear. You find that Javier has cleaned the kitchen and is sitting on the couch in the living room. He glances at the ofrenda out of the corner of his eye, looking thoughtful and melancholic. You can see how much Inés resembles him in the evening light.

You silently go to sit down beside him, holding his hand between the two of you.

"Thank you for today," he says softly, leaned back into the sofa and his head turned towards you, "For helping the kids understand."

“You are so wonderful with them,” you reply with a gentle smile, "They love her because you love her, and because she's a part of who you are."

“Still, I couldn’t do this without you, mi vida (my life),” he stresses and inches closer, slowly removing the gap between the two of you. You lean in and rest your forehead against his, a sigh of relief escaping him at being so close to you, “You make everything better.”

You don’t respond with words. Instead, you close the remaining distance between you and your husband, kissing him lovingly in the glow of the altar and the moonlight shining in through the window.

Yet Javier seems to have more in mind when he reaches up to cradle your cheek with his large hand. He rubs his thumb along your cheekbone, eager as he deepens the kiss. It earns him a chuckle from you as you draw back slightly.

“Not in front of your mother,” you whisper to tease playfully.

“She’d probably tell me to make sure I’m treating you right,” he laughs quietly, thumb still caressing your face, “Keeping you happy.”

“Then you are succeeding,” you tell him with sincerity, keeping all the playfulness he has ignited at bay to show love instead. He responds by getting up from his seat and pulling you by your hand, making you giggle girlishly as he brings you to blow out the candles for the night while whispering in your ear.

Then he leads you upstairs and makes love to you, slowly and passionately. It’s all long, slow kisses and quiet gasps as you arch your back when he touches you to orgasm. He knows you inside and out, what you need, and what you feel. You’d like to say that it’s the same the other way around, that you know him just as deeply.

In the afterglow, you rest your head on his chest and feel his hand caressing your hair. His heartbeat is slow, his breathing almost steady again. You look up at him and feel so much affection that your head swims. An idea pops into your head in the beautiful clarity that follows being with him like this, “Tomorrow we could go to the cemetery if you like. We could take your dad too and get him to bring some flowers from his garden.”

“I’d like that,” he replies, his fingers playing with and brushing your hair to the side absentmindedly, “Pop would appreciate that. It’s been a while since we all went together during Día de Muertos. Yeah, let’s do that.”

“That’s settled then,” you kiss his chest.

“Fuck, I love you, esposita (my little wife),” he says happily, absolutely in disbelief at your perfection.

“I love you too,” you respond with a shy grin.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

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whetstonefires · 2 months ago

Text

Thinking about the parallels set up between Wei Wuxian and Mo Xuanyu, and how actually most of them are oddly specious.

The sketch of the backstory lines up, but on close examination they're mirror images.

Wei Wuxian wasn't kicked out of his sect, he left it. Wei Wuxian didn't hate the house he grew up in, he loved it, and getting the people there killed was the absolute last purpose for which his dark powers were ever intended.

Jiang Cheng was no Mo Ziyuan--his jealousy was a complicated thing all twisted up with love, and while he would lash out at Wei Wuxian both as a casual means of shit communication and more damagingly in moments of high tension, he had neither the desire nor the ability to bully him, and in general respected his boundaries almost too well.

When Wei Wuxian destroyed himself about Jiang Cheng, it was to give him cultivation, and protect his life and happiness. He would never have killed him.

Madam Yu was a domineering aunt-like figure, who hated Wei Wuxian for reasons of reputation, and because she had resented his dead mother, but she crucially did not have the power to actually disrupt his lifestyle to any significant extent.

Mo Xuanyu was shut up in a small room to rot; Wei Wuxian didn't even attend classes unless he wanted to. Mo Xuanyu was weak and disliked; Wei Wuxian was brilliant and popular.

Mo Xuanyu's uncle is a cipher of a figure, without character or agency, a nonentity who is resented to death apparently mostly for what he didn't do; in theory he is the master of the house, but he certainly never protected his wife and son's punching bag from them.

And this is what got me thinking along this track: because people keep interpreting Jiang Fengmian as this, as exactly like Mo Xuanyu's nameless uncle, a nonentity who lets his wife make all the decisions, and is contemptible therefore.

He shows up in fic characterized this way all the time, handled narratively as a gap rather than a person, an absence where there should have been a parent, and it's...totally inaccurate? The man only has a few scenes but the things that are most firmly established about him are:

he regularly goes out of his way to protect Wei Wuxian

he's extremely fond of Wei Wuxian

he cares a lot about ethical behavior

he's conflict-avoidant and gentle

he can and will overrule Yu Ziyuan when he's made up his mind, and there's nothing she can do about it

his communication skills are mediocre at best

he doesn't understand jiang cheng

he has a dumb sense of humor

Now almost none of this made it into cql besides point 4 and maybe 6, 5 is technically there but buried by the cinematic framing, so I totally get why the fandom on the whole struggles to characterize him well, and it's easier to write him off.

But it keeps bugging me to see him and Yu Ziyuan squashed into the mold of the Mo, because not only is that boring and reductive and kind-of-missing-the-point, it's like. Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng's characterization suffers a lot when you alter the environment and take away the influence exerted by their shared father figure.

Jiang Fengmian was Wei Wuxian's primary adult role model and it shows.

Jiang Cheng's relationship to his own sense of ethics is fraught because 'teaching him good ethics' was his dad's number one parenting goal, but they misunderstood each other so badly (partly because Yu Ziyuan kept loudly misinterpreting them to each other, which is so realistic I can't get over it, that's exactly how it works good lord) that Jiang Cheng has a direct association between the concept of 'doing the right thing even when it's hard' and a feeling of personal inadequacy.

The fact that Wei Wuxian got their dad-person's approval for being exactly himself and Jiang Cheng not only couldn't do that, he couldn't even get that same level of approval when he really pushed himself to rise to expectations, because Jiang Fengmian did not intend that warmth as a 'reward,' and so never realized he was withholding it, and therefore misunderstood Jiang Cheng's visible jealousy as a dangerous sense of personal entitlement that had to be carefully restrained, which reinforced his distrust of Jiang-Cheng-the-person and fed into a shitty loop where they were less and less able to relate to one another--that's fantastic. That's so human! I love it so much.

Both their failures are their own but at the same time it would never have gotten so bad if Yu Ziyuan hadn't been interjecting herself in there, in the middle of their relationship, fucking it up. That's family, baby.

I would ofc like if there was more fic engaging with the subtleties of all this because it's so good, mxtx did such elegant work here and it is not sufficiently appreciated. But it's the kind of thing that's hard to write good fic about; I am struggling with it myself.

So mostly I wish there was just more fic that didn't impose Mo Xuanyu's cliche angst backstory on Wei Wuxian, who has a whole different thing going on.

#hoc est meum #mdzs #jiang family values #jiang fengmian #wei wuxian #mo xuanyu #narrative parallels #mirror mirror #jiang cheng #jiang sect #relationships #writing #i keep posting about this #meta #i am at the crisis point of this special interest asl;kfajkl;

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help-itrappedmyself · 9 months ago

Text

Dead On Main AU Part 4

Masterpost

Jason listens carefully to Jazz’s half of the conversation, but Jazz seems to be mostly listening. Jazz says he’s taking him to Nasty for dinner, which Jason can’t say he’s excited about. He doesn’t know if Nasty is supposed to be describing the food or the place. Either way it is not comforting that whatever Nasty is, it is somehow a better source of food than his soulmate’s house.

Eventually Jazz hands the phone back to him.

“Everything good?” Jason asks.

“Yeah, your dad, Dick, and Tim are going to be driving me over, but It’s a long drive so Jazz will get you dinner and then you can do whatever. I have a gaming system, and you’re welcome to use my bed. If you need help finding clothes, or really with anything, then Jazz will help you.”

“Got it.” Long drive with B, Dick, and Tim. They’re all going to interrogate him immediately. While he’s trapped in a box with them for hours. “Hey, my family is really nosy and they will pry and they have no emotional cues so they will not know when to stop. Just… Tell them if they’re bothering you, and you don’t have to answer anything you don’t want to.” Jason doesn’t know who will be worse in this scenario. Bruce is going to interrogate him for literally everything, Dick is probably going to be all relationships and feelings, Tim is a nice in-between which just means he’ll probably support any and all interrogating.

“Same goes for you. Jazz is studying to be a psychologist, and my entire family forgets that we’re not all test subjects for whatever they’re working on. Mom and Dad with their gadgets, and Jazz with her… studying and analyzing you. There are no boundaries.”

“Oh, I’m familiar with that concept.” Jason chuckled.

“Well, given the circumstances I’d say if we can survive each other’s families that’s probably a pretty good sign.”

Kid is probably right. Fate and everything.

Jazz goes out to clear a path to the door, making sure there are no weapons to run into. When she gets back she leads Jason out, but when they get to the ground floor Jason is grabbed.

“Happy Birthday Dann-o!” The person holding him is tall. Very tall compared to Danny, and taller than Jason in his regular body. He has black hair and it looks like he's wearing a jumpsuit. After squeezing to the point where Jason couldn't breath for a second Jazz gets the man to put him down.

“Dad, this isn't Danny right now.”

“What do you mean princess, of course it is!”

A woman comes around the corner to stand next to the man, she is also in a jumpsuit but she has Jazz’s red hair.

“Guys, it's his sixteenth birthday.” So Danny's parents remember his birthday but not how old he is? Could be that they’ve forgotten the significance of a person’s sixteenth birthday, but given it should be an important day in a child’s life, they should have remembered.

“We know it's his birthday dear.” The woman comes over to give Jason a hug as well, but this one is less painful. And she's tall too, Jason is not used to feeling this short anymore.

“Mom, Dad, this is Jason. Danny’s soulmate.” The both of them just blink for a second. Jason, this is Drs. Jack and Maddie Fenton, Danny’s parents.”

“Nice to meet you both.” Jason gets out.

“Well, this is wonderful!” Dr. Fenton-Maddie says. “Figures Danny would be the younger one. Are you going to be here for dinner?”

Jason glances over at Jazz.

“No, you told us that you would be busy, so we already made plans.” Jazz sidesteps the invitation. Jason couldn’t tell if that was true or a lie to get him out of the situation. Would they tell their son that they were too busy to have dinner with him on his birthday? He wants to think the answer is no. “Shame Danny will be missing out, but we’ll save his presents for him.”

“Alright, well you kids have fun then!” Maddie and Jack left as quickly as they came, rambling about something that Jason could not understand.

“They didn’t want to know where Danny is? Who he’s with? Where we’re going? Anything?” Jason turned to Jazz who had a pinched look on her face.

“Neither of us get up to much trouble, they’ve trusted us for a while now.”

“Trust him to be magically transported who-knows-where?” Jason is almost stupefied by the utter lack of regard for Danny’s well-being. He is insulted on his soulmate’s behalf. “He could be in another country for all they know! They didn’t even ask!”

Jazz nods. “Best not to think about it. Everything is turning out alright anyways. Now come on, let’s get dinner.”

Jason is seething, but doesn’t think it will do much good to argue with her here so he decides to calm down. He startles a little when he realizes how easy it is to calm down in this body. Just decide to, and then move on. None of the lingering churning in his gut or fog in his mind.

He frowns as he follows Jazz out the door, hoping that Danny’s not having too hard a time in his body.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #my writing #fanfiction #red hood #danny phantom #soulmate au

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scary-grace · 29 days ago

Note

the boy anon spooky prompt here and it would be very cool to see it reader x shigaraki if possible. I just really like the way you write it and i think it would be interesting.

Hi! Thank you so much for the prompt! I had to go check out the movie for this one, and I agree -- it was really interesting to write! I hope you enjoy this take on it. Happy Halloween! (dividers by @cafekitsune)

d-o-l-l-h-o-u-s-e

You need a job and a place to hide. The Shimuras need a nanny for their five-year-old son Tenko while they take a three-month trip abroad. It's a match made in heaven -- or it would be, if it wasn't for the fact that Tenko's been dead for seventeen years, and they want you to look after a doll that looks just like him. It wouldn't take much for you to be convinced that the doll's haunted by Shimura Tenko himself. And it is haunted. Just not the way you thought. (cross-posted to Ao3)

You’ve been on and off apprehensive since you stepped off the train at Kurouzu station, and more on-apprehensive than off since the directions you printed off pointed you straight out of town, but when you actually reach the address you’re aiming for, the nerves kick into high gear. This is the Shimura family’s estate, all right. The address is right, and so is the sign. And you know the Shimuras have money, or else they wouldn’t be able to afford paying a broke twentysomething to live in their house and watch their son – but still, you weren’t expecting their house to be this huge.

It feels iffy. Is it actually iffy? Or do you just want it to be iffy because you’re into self-sabotaging and you’re nervous about babysitting a five-year-old for three months? Whether it’s iffy or not, you still need money. And somewhere to stay. And you made a promise. You take a deep breathe, then ring the doorbell.

The door opens so fast that it gives you whiplash, and you find yourself staring up at a tall, dark-haired man with fine features and a mouth that’s primed to frown. “Mr. Shimura?”

“Yes. You’re late.”

“I’m – sorry?” You stumble on the words. “I thought I was – just a few minutes –”

“You’re fine, sweetheart.” A pretty, brown-haired woman appears over Mr. Shimura’s shoulder, a nervous, strained smile on her face. “Kotaro’s just a little anxious. It’s been years since we took a trip, and he’s still a little worried that something’s going to go wrong.”

“Yes,” Mr. Shimura agrees. There’s a pause. “Come inside. Tenko is quite anxious to meet you.”

Right. The kid. You put on a smile. “I’m excited to meet him too.”

The Shimuras’ house is pretty on the outside, fancy on the inside – but dark. All the curtains are drawn, and the lights aren’t bright enough to compete with shadows. It doesn’t look like the kind of house that a five-year-old lives in. You don’t know a lot of people with five-year-olds, but you’re pretty sure that five-year-olds are messier than this. There should be toys around. Or kids’ books. There should be brighter colors, better lights, maybe an open window or two. It can’t be good for Tenko to have things this dark.

What do you know? You’re not a parent. Then again, you’ll be the one responsible for Tenko for the next three months, so maybe you can make a few changes around here. You bought a book on developmental theory to read on the train, but instead you ended up watching TikTok videos until the 5G vanished. Maybe you’ll start reading it tonight after you put Tenko to bed.

“So, um –” you start, as Mrs. Shimura leads you up the stairs. “Can you tell me a little bit about what Tenko’s like? I mean, obviously I’ll ask him, but –”

“Oh, we can tell you!” Mrs. Shimura’s voice is bright. “He’s –”

“After you meet him,” Mr. Shimura interrupts from behind you. “Wait here.”

You pause, and Mr. Shimura slips past you to join Mrs. Shimura up ahead. They duck into a particular room, and you can hear them talking quietly. In the meantime, you take stock of your surroundings. The Shimura house is sparsely decorated, but on the wall opposite from you, there’s a family portrait hanging. It’s a good one. Mrs. Shimura, Mr. Shimura, and two children. The boy, the smaller one, must be Tenko. But there’s another one. A girl.

She doesn’t look that much older than Tenko. Is she old enough to go on a European tour with her parents, or is she staying with somebody else? If she’s staying with somebody else, how come Tenko isn’t staying there, too? Before you can really wind yourself up over something that’s none of your business, Mr. Shimura steps out into the hall, followed by Mrs. Shimura, who’s carrying Tenko. He must not be very heavy – she’s beckoning you forward with one hand.

“He’s a bit shy,” she says, apologetic. You have a split second to realize that something’s off about the kid’s position in her arms before she steps forward, fully into the light. “This is Tenko, our son. Say hello.”

You can’t say anything at all. All you can do is stare, because Tenko’s not a little boy like you thought he’d be. Tenko’s not a boy at all. Tenko’s a doll.

“A doll?” Manami asks. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure,” you hiss into the phone. It’s a big cordless phone, and you’ve got it pinned between your ear and shoulder as you pack and unpack your suitcase over and over again. “A big, creepy doll. Why would I lie about this?”

“I mean, I don’t think you would,” Manami says. She sounds bemused more than anything else. Maybe you need to say “creepy” again, with more emphasis. “How big is it?”

“Like, kid-sized. They put it on the bed at night.” You can’t think of the whole bizarre ritual Mr. and Mrs. Shimura demonstrated for you without feeling like you’ve lost your mind. “They have a daily routine for it – I’m supposed to wake it up in the morning, and take it out of its pajamas and put it in its clothes and make it breakfast –”

“Why do you have to make it breakfast? Dolls don’t eat.”

“I know dolls don’t eat. Everybody and their mother knows dolls don’t eat! Even little kids only fake-feed their dolls.” You want to scream. “But they want me to make it breakfast. And play music for it. And read aloud to it – and make it lunch and dinner and read it a bedtime story like it’s a real kid. I’m even supposed to give it a goodnight kiss.”

“But it’s not a real kid,” Manami says. You hit your head against the bedpost, producing a hollow thunk. “Why do they have you taking care of a doll like it’s a real kid? Do they even have real kids?”

“They do. Did.” You wouldn’t let the Shimuras leave without giving you an answer about that one, and because they really wanted you to stay and look after their creepy doll for three months, they didn’t screw around. “Two of them. Tenko – the one they named the doll after – and an older girl named Hana. They both died in an accident seventeen years ago.”

“Oh, that’s awful.” Manami sounds like she’s tearing up. You probably would have teared up, too, if the Shimuras hadn’t told you that after they’d handed you the creepy doll they named after their dead son. “They lost both their kids at once? I would go crazy too.”

“That’s the thing. They didn’t,” you say. “Not all the way. There’s only one doll.”

“That’s kind of weird,” Manami admits. “Why wouldn’t they make one for Hana too?”

“It gets weirder. Hana has a shrine. I’m supposed to take care of it.” That’s the least weird part of your job. If all you were doing was taking care of shrines to the Shimuras’ dead kids, you’d be perfectly happy. “They don’t have a shrine for Tenko. And the only picture they have of him is in this big family portrait on the wall.”

“Huh,” Manami says slowly. “Rich people are weird.”

“That’s all you’ve got to say?” you ask, exasperated. “Rich people are weird?”

“They are. Poor people wouldn’t make a life-sized doll of their dead kid and pay somebody to take care of it like it’s alive,” Manami says. You think she’s probably right. You’re poor, and if you had a kid who died, you – well, you don’t know what you’d do. You definitely wouldn’t do that. “Does it look like him?”

“Yeah. Creepily like him.” When you were racing upstairs to drop the doll on the bed and lock it in, you were unnerved enough to stop by the family portrait and check. “And creepily accurate, size-wise. Like, if you didn’t look too hard, you’d think he was real.”

“He is real,” Manami says, and you almost drop the phone. “I mean, the doll is real.”

“Right.” The doll is a little too real for your taste. “I think I meant alive.”

“That’s creepy,” Manami says, and you breathe a sigh of relief. You called her looking for validation, and you got it. You should have expected her to ask for details first. You would have. “What are you going to do?”

“I can’t stay here,” you say, but even as the words leave your mouth, you know they aren’t true. “I can’t leave, either. I need the money. And I need to be – away. For a little while at least. Until everybody forgets.”

“Until he forgets,” Manami says. Your ex-boyfriend, everybody. He’s so popular in town that they might as well be the same thing. “He came around last night looking for you. Danjuro told him off.”

You were already on edge over the doll thing, but that piece of news soaks you in an instant cold sweat. “Did he say anything?”

“Danjuro or Keigo? Danjuro would never,” Manami says, offended. You try to pace your breathing, praying you won’t hyperventilate. “Keigo said he was just worried about you, because he didn’t see you come to work yesterday – and when he asked everyone said you’d quit – so he thought he’d stop by –”

“Fuck.” If you could go back in time and give your past self one piece of advice, it would be to send the town’s youngest police chief in history packing when he asked if he could buy you a drink. That one bad decision spiraled into a nightmare you’re still struggling to escape. “I don’t understand. What is it going to take to make him stop?”

“You’re doing the smart thing. Going away, letting things die down,” Manami says. “I know this new place is creepy, but you picked it for a good reason. They’ll pay you cash, so Keigo can’t trace your cards. It’s a small town off the map, so it’ll be hard for him to find –”

“And I’m supposed to spend all day playing house with creepy Tenko, so no one will be able to tell him they saw me.” You’ll wear a disguise if you have to go out into town. Now that you know Keigo’s still looking for you, you need to be even more careful. “I just wish I wasn’t stuck here. And I wish it was a real kid.”

“Real kids pee their pants and cry,” Manami says practically, and you manage a wheeze of laughter. You knew talking to Manami would make you feel better, even if nothing has changed. “Trust me. You’re better off with the doll.”

You might be better off with the doll than a real kid, but for the first week or so of your stay in the Shimura house, you neglect doll Tenko in a way that real Tenko would never have let you get away with. Real Tenko probably wouldn’t have put up with being locked in his room all day, or being fed breakfast at two pm because you stayed up late and slept in later the night before. And real Tenko definitely wouldn’t have tolerated being schlepped around feet-up because you don’t like having his scary porcelain face so close to yours.

Then again, real Tenko probably didn’t like listening to classical music at max volume, either. Real Tenko’s also been dead for seventeen years. It’s probably safe to stop worrying about what real Tenko would think of how you deal with his freaky little homunculus counterpart.

Whenever you’re not conspicuously ignoring Tenko’s schedule, you’re getting to know the rest of the Shimura house – and outside it, the Shimura estate. It’s beautiful, so beautiful that you have a hard time imagining how anything in Europe could measure up, and when the weather allows it you spend a lot of time outdoors, poking around on the trails that cover the property and watching whatever animals wander by. The animals here aren’t very scared of people. The Shimuras probably don’t allow hunting on their property, and based on what the mailman does when he stops by every afternoon, nobody in town likes coming near the property for too long.

One person does, though. The Shimuras let you know that somebody comes by to deliver groceries – and bring your payment – once a week, and you’re coming back from a walk on a grey, foggy day when you see him. He’s balancing four grocery bags in one arm and trying to unlock the door with the other. You hurry forward. “Here, let me get that. I’m sorry.”

“I rang the bell.” The delivery guy’s face is completely concealed by the pile of grocery bags he’s toting. “No answer.”

“Yeah, I was out for a walk.”

“I thought you were supposed to stay inside. You know, since Tenko’s allergic to the air the rest of us breathe.” The delivery guy steps through the door after you unlock it, then drops the bags on the kitchen table and looks around. “Where is the kid, anyway? He’s usually attached to Mrs. Shimura at the hip.”

“He’s, uh, taking a nap.” You look the delivery guy up and down, noting blue eyes and spiky white hair, along with some burn scars and a ton of facial piercings. “I’m sorry, they didn’t tell me your name.”

“It’s Touya.” He holds out a hand to shake, and you copy him as you introduce yourself. “Yeah, Mrs. Shimura mentioned that someone new was coming, but I wasn’t sure you’d still be here. They’ve tried out a lot of nannies, but Tenko’s kind of picky. Or so I hear.”

“Are you making fun of me?” you ask. Touya’s eyebrows lift. “We are talking about the same Tenko here, right?”

“The d-o-l-l? That’s right,” Touya says. You give him the weirdest look you can manage on short notice. “Yeah. The Shimuras get pissy if we don’t talk about him like he’s real, so we all got in the habit. You will, too, if you’re here long enough.”

“We,” you repeat. “How many of you are there?”

“Me and my siblings. The Shimuras hire us to do stuff,” Touya says. “The weekly deliveries are usually my thing, but Fuyumi or Natsuo might fill in sometimes, since they can drive, too. Fuyumi helps with their garden in the summers and Natsuo does maintenance shit. I won’t bring the brat out here until it’s time to chop firewood. One of these days I’ll get lucky and he’ll lose a limb.”

You think Touya’s joking. You’re not sure. “Which one’s the brat?”

“Shoto. My baby brother. Daddy’s favorite.” Touya scoffs. “He gets all the pocket money he wants. He doesn’t even need to work, but does he let that stop him? No. He makes me drag him out here anyway –”

Touya breaks off, glances at you. “Do you have siblings?”

“Yeah.” You have siblings the same way the Shimuras have kids, but you don’t bring that up unless you’re forced to. “I’m the oldest. I’m guessing you are, too?”

“That’s right.” Touya runs a hand through his hair, spiking it up even higher than it was before. “Not that I care too much about your backstory, but you must have something really shitty going on to make this the better offer.”

“Yeah. You could say that.” You’re not too interested in Touya’s thoughts on your backstory, either. You collect the envelope with your pay and sort through it quickly, confirming that it’s all there, then look up at Touya. “Do I need to tip you or anything?”

“Twenty percent is customary.” Touya doesn’t let that crack stand for very long. “No. The Shimuras might be off the wall, but they pay well for everything – grunt work like what I do all the way up to caring for their precious little boy.”

There’s a thud from somewhere upstairs, and you jump out of your skin. Touya startles, too, but he recovers faster. “Sounds like the monkey just fell off the bed. You should probably go check on that.”

“Yeah. It was, uh – nice to meet you,” you say. Touya snorts. “See you next week.”

You don’t actually think Touya would steal your money, but you take the envelope with you when you race up the stairs to the second floor, and drop it on your bed before hurrying into Tenko’s room. You spend as little time in here as possible. It’s like a time capsule, frozen on the day the Shimuras decided to replace their dead son but not their dead daughter with a photorealistic porcelain doll, and it gives off some of the worst vibes you’ve ever felt.

You leave Tenko in here most of the time because looking at him creeps you out, and in spite of Touya’s joke about monkeys on the bed, he’s exactly where you left him. What’s fallen over is a mostly-empty bookshelf, and there’s something behind it – a little alcove in the wall, with a pile of old, dusty toys. Action figures, mainly, along with a single plushie. You go to investigate, and discover that while you’re not much of a comic-book fan, you recognize almost all the action figures. They’re from Adventures of All Might, a cartoon your brother used to watch. It’s been off the air for ten years at least. What are toys from a show that old doing in a five-year-old’s room?

The answer occurs to you, and to your displeasure, it makes you even more uncomfortable than the question. This isn’t a five-year-old’s room. Shimura Tenko died when he was five years old – seventeen years ago, when Adventures of All Might was on the air. If Tenko was alive, he’d be about as old as you are. The thought weirds you out so badly that you nudge the action figures to the side and pick up the plushie.

Getting a decent look at the plushie first involves violently shaking the plushie until the dust comes up in a big cloud. Underneath the dust, the plushie’s dog-shaped, or more accurately, corgi-shaped. There’s a piece of yarn around its neck, with a cardboard tag hanging from it. You hold it up for a look and somehow manage to decipher the handwriting of a long-dead five-year-old. “Mon,” you say out loud. “That’s a good name.”

It's a good name, but thinking about it makes you miserable. A big, creepy doll might be all that’s left of Shimura Tenko, but Shimura Tenko was a real person – a little kid who liked cartoons and handmade a collar for his plushie, who’d be your age if he’d had the chance to grow up. Your eyes are stinging from the dust. You spend a few more seconds brushing it away, then carry Mon over to the bed and set him down beside Tenko.

You’re surprised at how much less unsettling the sight becomes now that you’ve added a toy to it. It’s improved enough that you feel okay spending a little longer in Tenko’s room, righting the bookshelf that fell and arranging the action figures on top of it, before you go downstairs to put away the groceries.

The Shimura house is old. Old houses make noises – weird noises, a lot of the time, and that’s just something you have to live with. You’re good at living with it most nights, but tonight, as the first really big storm of autumn rages around the house, the noises you hear sound less like old-house creaks and groans and more like footsteps. And voices. And laughter. No matter how hard you try to distract yourself, you can’t.

You tried to call Manami, but the phone lines are down, and while you haven’t tried the lights, you’re pretty sure they’re out. All you can do is huddle up in bed, the door to your room barricaded, mumbling to yourself like an actual lunatic. “This is fucked up, this is fucked up, this is so fucked up –”

You’re fucked up. You think something’s haunting this place? The ghosts of a five-year-old and his seven-year-old sister, who didn’t even die in here? Some haunting. It’s your overactive imagination putting you through hell, and you’ve got proof – your shitty ex-boyfriend Takami Keigo is very much alive, and your mind’s been telling you that one of the laughing voices belongs to him. If you were faced with a choice between a living Keigo and a ghost Keigo, you’d pick the ghost in a heartbeat. Ghosts can’t stalk you when you try to take a break from the relationship and enlist the entire town, police force included, to their cause. And you could probably exorcise him, which would be a lot easier than whatever you’d have to do to get rid of real Keigo for good.

The sounds get weirder, and they’re coming from all over the place – the ceiling above you, the hallway, the rooms on either side of yours, even inside the walls. Maybe you’ve got rats or something. You’ll ask Natsuo about that when he comes over tomorrow to clear leaves out of the gutters and branches off the roof. It’s fine if there’s rats tonight, right? You can take a rat in a fight. Probably even ten rats. You’re not going to get eaten alive by rats. Ghost Keigo could be dealt with. Rats can also be dealt with. It’s just your imagination. You need to get it together.

It's just past three in the morning, and you think the getting-it-together is going okay, when a particularly big gust of wind rattles the house. There’s a colossal bang from somewhere, but only one. The windows are shaking in their frames, producing an odd, warped sound, and somewhere beneath it, there’s another sound, a sound that’s got no place in this house. Someone’s crying. It doesn’t take much or any stretching of the imagination to convince yourself that it’s a kid.

You decide instantly that you’re not going to waste time trying to talk yourself out of it. You’ll go check on Tenko, confirm that Tenko is in fact still a doll and not a real boy, and then you’ll go to bed and sleep in as late as you damn well please.

The wood floors in the hallway are cold beneath your feet, but it’s only a short walk to Tenko’s room – and then you have to double back, because you don’t have a flashlight and the lights are out. You’re already spooked and already frustrated by the time you open the door to Tenko’s room, and when you open the door, you’re ready to be mad. You click on the flashlight, raise it, and pan it over the room. And then you freeze.

Tenko’s room is trashed. Multiple shelves have been overturned, toys and books spilling everywhere, and the curtains over the boarded-up window hang in tatters. The shade’s off the lamp on the nightstand, and the dresser drawers yawn open – or else they’ve been pulled free and scattered across the room. The sheets are askew on the bed, the bed itself shifted at a weird angle. Tenko is nowhere to be found.

“Tenko?” you say hesitantly. You pan the flashlight again, and for a split second, you see a shadow crouched atop Tenko’s bed, far too big to be the doll. You don’t need to see any more than that. You drop the flashlight and scream.

The storm drowns out your scream, and you run out of air eventually – and then you’re tired of it. Screaming’s not doing anything to help, and if the shadow was going to kill you, it would have done it by now. You crouch down and feel along the floor until you come up with the flashlight, which still works. You check the bed first, but there’s no shadow there. There never was. The only things in this house are you and Tenko, and neither of you was up on the bed like a gremlin five seconds ago. You keep looking for Tenko. He has to be in here somewhere.

And he is. You find him behind the door, Mon-chan in his arms, his knees drawn up to his chest. “Hi, Tenko,” you say, like a crazy person. “Did you get scared?”

He doesn’t answer, of course. Because he’s a doll. He’s a doll, and you’re crazy. Knowing that doesn’t stop you from looking around at the wreckage of the room, thinking about how scary it would be to have to go back to bed in here if you were a kid. Thinking about how you used to be scared of lightning and thunder – maybe still are. “If you’re still scared,” you start, “do you want to stay in my room for tonight?”

Five minutes later, you’re setting a line of pillows down the middle of your bed, leaving one half for you and one half for Tenko. And Mon-chan, because you felt less weird about inviting a doll to sleep in your bed if the doll has its plushie, too. Once you’ve got Tenko squared away, you block the door again. “It’ll be daylight soon,” you tell yourself. Then, to Tenko: “We’ll fix your room up and everything will be fine.”

Tenko’s eyes are open. His eyes are grey, like they are in the family portrait, with long lashes. You reach out and close their lids carefully. The chances that you’ll be able to get to sleep are slim, but they’re zero as long as you’ve got a doll staring at you.

“It’s weird, right?” you say anxiously as Natsuo scans the mess in Tenko’s room. Most of the Todoroki kids don’t come inside the house, but you managed to lure Natsuo inside by mentioning the really loud bang you heard last night. “The wind couldn’t have done this.”

“Not with all the windows boarded up, yeah.” Natsuo looks wary. “You sure you don’t sleepwalk or anything?”

“Never,” you say. “I just – it was like this when I came in.”

“This is creeping me out,” Natsuo says, but he doesn’t look away. He’s looking around the room. “Where’s Tenko?”

“I moved him. In there.” You nod toward your room. “Things got wild in here last night. I kept thinking I was hearing voices, or laughter – or kids crying –”

You sound like a lunatic, again. Why does everything that happens to you make you look and feel crazy? “Have any of the other nannies mentioned things like that?”

“No,” Natsuo says, backing away from Tenko’s room. He glances into your room again. “Hey, Tenko. What – wait, you found Mon-chan? I remember that thing.”

“Huh?”

“That used to be his favorite,” Natsuo says. “When he was alive.”

You didn’t get much sleep last night. You’re a little slow. “Wait, you knew him?”

“We all did. Hana, too.” Natsuo starts down the hall, aiming for the stairs to the third floor. “They’re the richest family in town, and our shitty bastard of a father only wanted us to associate with the best. We all played together.”

You wish somebody had told you that earlier. “What was he like?”

“I don’t really remember,” Natsuo says with a shrug. “I was four. Touya would know better. You should ask him.”

He disappears up the stairs, and you chase after him. You don’t spend a lot of time on the top floor – it’s the master bedroom, and Mr. Shimura’s study, and a lot of stuff you feel like you shouldn’t get involved with. Natsuo doesn’t seem to have the same problem. “The attic’s open,” he calls. You climb the last few steps. “I bet the thud you heard was the trapdoor coming down.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right.” The trapdoor and ladder look heavy enough to produce the sound. “Can you fix it?”

“I’d have to climb up in there.” Natsuo looks really wary now. Out of the three older Todoroki siblings, he’s the one who’s least comfortable with coming into the house. “How about you climb up and look at the hinges? I’ll tell you what to look for, and I’ll come up if there’s anything wrong.”

You don’t want to go up in the attic, either, but you also want to make sure this doesn’t happen again. You nudge past Natsuo and climb the ladder into the musty dimness of the attic. Dimness, not darkness – there’s a skylight, the first window on the upper floors of the house that’s not boarded up completely. The attic itself is cluttered and dusty, but there aren’t any cobwebs that you can see. Small favors.

You crouch down by the trapdoor. “Okay. What am I looking for?”

Natsuo tells you, but even without his instructions, you probably could have figured it out. One hinge has been completely sheared away, dangling by one barely-there screw. Natsuo climbs up to study it with you, frowning. “This doesn’t look like metal fatigue. And the wood’s still in good condition. I don’t understand why it would just break.”

“I don’t know,” you say. “Can you fix it or not?”

“Yeah,” Natsuo says. “You have to stick around, though. I’m not staying up here alone.”

“Fair enough.”

While Natsuo works, you investigate the rest of the attic, trying not to sneeze and create a dust storm. At least half the attic is taken up by objects labeled as belonging to “Mom”, but they’ve been there way too long to be referring to Mrs. Shimura. You blow some dust off of a big picture frame to see what’s inside and find yourself looking at a poster that could be from a circus. The background is black and yellow and grey, the lettering ornate but still legible. Psychopomp, Medium, Illusionist: See the Spectacular Shimura Nana!

The next picture frame in line has a picture of Shimura Nana herself, and it’s immediately clear to you where Mr. Shimura got his looks from. Shimura Nana is gorgeous, dark-haired and grey-eyed with a bright, almost cocky smile on her face, and there’s a birthmark just below the corner of her mouth that looks familiar. When you think about people who can talk to the dead, you don’t think of them as looking this happy.

You carry both picture frames back to Natsuo. “Did you know their grandma was a magician?”

“No.” Natsuo glances at the frames, then flinches, almost dropping his screwdriver. “Shit. If I were you, I’d get out of here.”

You raise your eyebrows, and Natsuo gives you an exasperated look. “Somebody who could talk to the dead used to live here. The people who own this place have a doll that they treat like their dead son. And last night something trashed their dead son’s room. Haven’t you ever seen a horror movie? This place is haunted.”

“Don’t say that. I have to live here.”

“It’s gonna be haunted whether I say it or not.” Natsuo gives you a weird look. “Is it just the money thing? There are other ways to get money.”

“It’s not just money. I have to stay out of the way,” you say. “There’s this guy – my ex – he’s a cop –”

Natsuo’s mouth turns down at the corners. “I get it,” he says. “Our piece-of-shit old man is a cop. Our mom couldn’t get away, either.”

Your stomach drops. You know cops talk to each other. “Please don’t tell your dad that I’m –”

“Are you kidding? I barely talk to him. No way am I telling him that.” Natsuo says. He glances at you. “I get why you feel like you have to stay here. This place is still haunted.”

“Yeah,” you admit. You don’t know what’s haunting it – Tenko’s ghost, his sister’s ghost, his grandma’s ghost, or all three plus however many ghosts Shimura Nana summoned to hang out with her – but you have the same thought you had last night, and this time, you say it out loud. “I’ll take my chances with the ghosts.”

You get Tenko’s room reordered, and when the next storm comes, it doesn’t get trashed again. Then again, you go and grab the doll from the room the second you hear the first clap of thunder – not because you really think there’s a scared five-year-old ghost haunting it, but just to be safe. That same night, you retrieve Tenko’s schedule from where you abandoned it a month ago and read over it. Again, just to be safe.

It’s not that bad of a schedule, really. It’s not that weird. Most of it just involves moving Tenko from place to place around the house. You’d probably want a change of scenery, too, if you were a ghost haunting a doll. You don’t mind playing him music, but you play stuff you like, at a volume that’s a little less than earsplitting. You don’t mind reading aloud, so long as you’re reading your own books, and editing out the parts that aren’t kid-appropriate on the fly. And because he’s just there, and he’s not going to give you any feedback, it’s okay to think out loud.

At first it’s just whatever thought pops into your head, but as the days slip past in the second month of your stay at the Shimura house, you find that you’re getting into some stuff you haven’t talked about with anyone. And then, one day when you’re in the kitchen making your own dinner and setting out a plate for Tenko that you’ll inevitably throw away, you find yourself talking about something you swore you never would.

“I used to be a big sister,” you tell him. “Not like you and Hana. A bigger sister. My brother was five years younger than me, and he was my parents’ favorite, right from the start. That always used to confuse me. They liked him better even before he did anything.”

Confused is downplaying it. You were hurt. You still are, when you scratch the surface even a centimeter down. “I wanted to be a good sister, but it seemed like everything I did was wrong. I played too rough, or else I wasn’t playing with him at all. I didn’t share my toys, or I gave him toys he wasn’t supposed to have – and when I took them back, he’d always yell. And then my dad would yell. And I’d cry. But my brother was crying, too. And my mom always went to him.”

You glance back over your shoulder at Tenko. He’s sitting and waiting, like always, expression still and remote. You can’t look at him and say this next part. “When it happened, I was nine,” you say. “He was four. I was playing marbles, and he kept trying to grab them from me. He could talk by then – a lot – so I made a deal with him. He could pick any marble he wanted to play with, and let me have the rest of them. So he picked one – this big shooter, my favorite. Right out of my hand.”

The echo of your nine-year-old self’s anger still echoes through you, made all the more sickening by what happened next. “I tried to get it back, and he stuffed it in his mouth so I couldn’t. And then he started choking.”

You couldn’t get it out. You tried, screaming for help the whole time, but nothing you did made any difference. Nothing your mom did made any difference, either, and your baby brother was blue by the time the ambulance got there. Your parents didn’t blame you. You thought they were going to. You expected them to. But in their version of the story, you were barely there. You were their only kid again, and they couldn’t afford to hate you. Your brother grabbed the marble and swallowed it, and choked, and died. You just happened to be there. It wasn’t your fault.

But it was. You were the one who offered any marble he wanted. You should have known he’d pick the one you were holding – one that was too big to fit down his throat, one he’d try to keep away from you at any cost once he had it. You’re the one who couldn’t save him, and thinking about it doesn’t even make you cry. You’d say it makes you feel sick, but sick is too small of a word for the hollowness inside you. The place where you used to be a sister. The place where you used to be good.

“Today’s his birthday,” you tell Tenko, dry-eyed. “You’d be twenty-two like me if you were here for real, and he’d be seventeen, and I never told anybody that I gave the marble to him until just now. I don’t even know why I told you. I guess I thought you should know that it’s a good thing you’re not a real kid. Because I really don’t have great luck with those.”

You set Tenko’s plate down in front of him, knowing the food won’t be touched, then turn away to fill yours. When you turn back, the entire plate is gone.

You’ve gotten comfortable with the fact that the Shimura house is haunted. As comfortable as it’s possible to be when you don’t know exactly what’s haunting it. You put up with weird sounds at night, and with things being moved around, and you put up with some of your stuff going missing – but a whole plate of food vanishing because you turned around for two seconds? Nope. Not a chance. “Put it back.”

“He knows.”

You almost drop your plate, then tighten your grip. You’re losing it, officially, but you’ll be damned before you drop a bunch of food all over the floor. If you’re going to the mental hospital, you’re going well-fed. “I didn’t hear anything,” you say aloud. “I’ve just been talking to myself. That’s it.”

You stuff one bite, two bite, three bites of food into your mouth, and something speaks again. “Your brother. He knows.”

It’s not a little kid’s voice. Not the voice you’d imagine for Tenko as a ghost – but it doesn’t not sound like Tenko. It keeps talking. “He knows you tried to save him. And it matters that you tried.”

“How do you know?” Your voice rattles around the question, and there’s no answer. The strange voice doesn’t speak again, and the plate doesn’t reappear. “Please –”

“He knows,” the voice says. “He’d forgive you. If there was anything to forgive.”

The hollow place inside you has been there so long that you’ve forgotten what it’s like to have anything there. When something floods backs in, it hits with such violence that it drives all the air from your lungs. You shove your plate to one side and double over, gasping for breath. Your eyes burn and your throat closes, and before you know it, you’re crying.

You don’t really cry. Keigo always said something was wrong with you, that you didn’t show your feelings and he wasn’t sure you even had them. Crying feels awful. The headache it generates is all-encompassing, and you put your head down on the kitchen table and shut your eyes, waiting for it to stop. It seems like it’ll never end, and somewhere amidst the pain and embarrassment and relief, you find a shred of hate in your heart for Keigo. You never cried in front of him? He never made you feel anything worth crying about.

When the crying stops, the headache remains, and you sit up, rubbing at the crick in your neck. You must have fallen asleep; it’s dark outside, and the kitchen’s gloomy along with it. Not gloomy enough, though. Not so gloomy that you can’t see Tenko’s plate sitting back in front of him, wiped perfectly clean. The glass of water you poured for him is empty, too. And something clicks into place in the back of your head, only slightly warped by the headache.

Hana has a shrine. Hana’s shrine has offerings on it. Maybe the food you leave for Tenko is an offering, too. “Did you like this?” you ask. Your voice sounds awful. “I can make it again sometime.”

You have to start paying more attention to what Tenko eats, if he eats any of it. It’s the least you can do, after what he told you today. Even if it isn’t true, even if the ghost haunting the Shimura house decided to tell you a lie, this is the first time you’ve ever been able to think about your brother without feeling like you’re the one being choked to death. That’s worth a meal or two, in your opinion. You might actually need to learn how to cook.

You clear Tenko’s plate away, and on an impulse, lean down to kiss his forehead. “Thank you,” you say. It feels weird to be kissing a doll, especially when you’ve been skipping the goodnight kiss so religiously, but this is a special occasion. “I feel better now.”

“Wow, have you lost it,” Touya says, laughing. He drops the groceries on the far end of the kitchen table, well away from where you and Tenko are eating lunch. “You know he can’t eat, right? He’s a doll.”

“I know. But he’s dead, so it’s like – an offering,” you say. “Since he doesn’t have a real shrine.”

“Yeah,” Touya remarks. He opens the fridge and starts shoving things in haphazardly. “Real nice piece of work on his dad’s part.”

That reminds you of something Natsuo said a while back, something you’ve been meaning to ask Touya about. “Your brother said you all knew the Shimuras. That you played together. Is that true?”

“Yeah. My assclown father and their assclown father both fell out of the same assclown tree.” Touya shuts the refrigerator, then opens the freezer. “We’d play together sometimes. Go to the birthday parties and shit. Hana went to the same school as me and Fuyumi. That’s about it.”

He glances sideways at you. “Natsuo said you were going to ask. What do you want to know?”

“What were they like?”

“Hana – she was cool. Nothing threw her off, and nothing kept her down. Everybody liked her. Even my shitheap father, which is really saying something.” Touya shuts the freezer, too, and turns to face you. “Tenko, though – he was kind of a crybaby. Everything made that kid cry. Didn’t matter if it was good or bad. If he had a feeling for longer than two seconds, there went the waterworks.”

You didn’t have a real idea of Tenko’s personality in your head. You had what Mrs. Shimura told you – shy, sweet, playful – but you threw out most of what she said on principle because she was saying it about a doll. “He was a lot,” Touya continues, “but he didn’t have a mean bone in his body. It makes it kind of hard to believe the official story about what happened.”

“The official story,” you repeat. “The Shimuras just said it was an accident.”

“Yeah, they would.” Touya leans back against the kitchen table. “Both their kids drown in the well on the same day? Better be an accident.”

Your stomach lurches. “They drowned?”

“Both of them.” Touya pats his pocket, then comes up with a pack of cigarettes, followed by a lighter. “There are three schools of thought about what happened, and they all start with the well cover. I can take you out to look and prove it, but trust me when I say that thing’s a bitch – 20kg at least. The first school of thought says that Tenko got the well cover open and fell in, and when Hana heard him calling for help, she ran to help and fell in, too. And they both drown in there.”

You don’t understand why they need more than one school of thought. The first one is awful enough. “The second school of thought says somebody else opened the well cover and both kids fell in – and in that case, the question is who? The third one says that Tenko opened it himself and pulled Hana in after him. Guess which one the Shimuras went with.”

“They think he opened a 20kg well cover so he could drown himself in it and decided to take Hana with him, too?” You can barely believe it. You can’t imagine ascribing that kind of malice to a little kid. “I mean – I never met them, obviously, but – I don’t think he would –”

“I did meet him, and I don’t think so either. None of us do,” Touya says. He glances around the kitchen, his eyes lingering on Tenko for a second before drifting back to you. “Something really fucked up happened here. Fucked up things happen in the house I grew up in all the time, but not like this.”

He’s frowning. “My dad plays favorites, but he’s indifferent to the rest of us. Hana’s dad hated Tenko. You could tell.”

“How?”

“Because Hana wasn’t scared of him. Tenko was.” Touya lights his cigarette and takes a drag. “I wouldn’t spend too long thinking about it, if I were you.”

“I don’t know how I’m going to not think about it,” you say. You wish you’d asked what happened to Tenko and Hana sooner. “Is that why they’ve only got the one shrine?”

“Couldn’t tell you.” Touya shrugs, then heads over to the pantry to start unpacking the dry goods one-handed. “I can tell you this, though. When they went down into that well to get the kids out, they only found one body. And it wasn’t his.”

As if this couldn’t get more horrible. Picturing the children’s bodies floating together in the cramped quarters of the well is bad enough, but picturing just Hana, knowing that Tenko’s lost somewhere in the depths, never to be found – your skin crawls. You start unpacking the dry goods alongside Touya, trying to get through it quickly so he’ll leave. You need to be alone to think about this. You can’t talk to Tenko about it while someone else is here.

“One more thing,” Touya says under his breath. “Natsuo told me and Fuyumi about the thing. Dad cornered Fuyumi on it and she caved. So –”

So now a cop here knows that you’re hiding out from another cop. Your hands shake so badly that you drop the bag of rice you’re trying to put away. “Keep it together,” Touya warns. “We fucked up but we’re fixing it. The brat’s going to keep his ear to the ground, and we’ll keep an eye out. You should get as much advance warning as you need.”

“Okay,” you say. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank us,” Touya says. “Just think about what you’re going to do when the Shimuras get back.”

Right. You can’t stay here forever. It’s not like the Shimuras are going to let you keep taking care of Tenko when they’re here to do it themselves. Your expenses here are zero. By the time they come back home, you’ll have saved a lot of money, enough to do – something. Like get out of the country and never look back. Or hire someone to put a hit on Keigo so you never have to look over your shoulder again. Either way, you’ll be getting out of here. And you won’t see Tenko – or hang out with his ghost – ever again.

The thought shouldn’t make you sad, but it does. But nothing could possibly make you sadder than the thought of the Shimura kids trapped in the well. No matter how they got there.

Some part of you knew it couldn’t last – the part of you that’s familiar with the kind of guy you almost married, the one who always gets what he wants and can’t take no for an answer. Some part of you always knew Keigo would find you. But you weren’t prepared for what it would feel like to actually see him standing inside the kitchen of the Shimura household, surrounded by grocery bags and wearing a self-satisfied grin. You’d stammered out a question about what he was doing here, and Keigo smiled at you. “The police chief here’s a good guy. He let me know that his kids handle some of the work around here, and I offered to bring the groceries by so we’d have a chance to talk alone.”

He’d nodded meaningfully at Tenko, who you were holding. “We are alone, right? That’s just a creepy doll.”

You said yes, if only because you didn’t want Tenko anywhere near whatever you and Keigo were going to talk about. And now you’re in your room, under Keigo’s watchful eyes, packing up to leave.

The door to Tenko’s room is closed, but you’d be crazy to assume that his ghost couldn’t hear you no matter where you are in the house. “I can’t just leave,” you say for the millionth time. “This is my job. I made a commitment.”

“To take care of a human child. Not a doll.” Keigo is smiling, but his eyes are hard and glinting. “Getting out of here with me is the sanest thing anybody in your position can do. He’ll be fine.”

“No,” you say. Keigo raises his eyebrows. “They’ll be back in a month. Let me finish doing my job, and then I’ll come back.”

Keigo shakes his head. “I’m worried about your mental health. When I talked to the police chief here, and he told me his kids were helping you take care of a porcelain doll in a big house with boarded-up windows, I got even more worried. And I don’t want to be the one to break this to you, but the Shimuras were never planning to come back.”

“What do you mean?” you ask. Keigo reaches into his back pocket and produces a letter – one that’s clearly been addressed to Shimura Tenko, and one that’s already been opened. “Hey. You can’t just open people’s mail.”

“If it’s linked to illegal activity, I can do whatever I want.” Keigo slides the letter out of the envelope and clears his throat. “Dear Tenko, We are heartbroken to tell you that we will not be returning home. We can no longer live with what you have become. The girl is yours – the girl. That’s you, right?”

You can’t think of who else it would be. Keigo keeps reading, projecting his voice. “The girl is yours. She is yours to love and care for. May we all be forgiven. Yours, Mother and Father.” He lowers the letter, raises his eyebrows. “They’re sacrificing you to the memory of their dead son. You know, the one who was so sick and crazy he drowned himself just so he could drown his own sister?”

“That’s not what happened,” you say. Keigo laughs at you. “Shut up! You weren’t here –”

“Neither were you,” Keigo says. “I’ve read the police reports. The statements from the parents –”

“The ones Touya’s dad took?” You remember Touya and Natsuo comparing their dad to Tenko’s dad, and not in Mr. Shimura’s favor. “Sure. I guess they have to cover up for each other, or none of them would get away with it.”

“Okay. That’s it.” Keigo lifts the last pile of clothes out of your arms, drops them unceremoniously into your suitcase, and zips it shut. “The sooner you get out of this house, the better. We need to be far away from here by the time it comes out.”

“By the time what comes out?”

“This isn’t just the Shimuras’ goodbye letter, it’s their suicide note. Their bodies were recovered yesterday.” Keigo looks almost gleeful in the always-dim light of the Shimura house. Or maybe you really are just losing your mind. “Lawyers are going to be all over this place any day now. Let’s go.”

He pulls the suitcase off the bed with one hand, then grabs your arm with the other. “Come on. Don’t make this so difficult –”

“Give me the letter,” you say hopelessly. “I want to read it to Tenko.”

“You want to read a letter to a doll.” Keigo looks skeptical. “What’s that going to do?”

You invent something on the fly. “Closure.”

“Closure?” Keigo repeats. “Huh. I guess if it keeps you from fixating on this the way you fixate on everything else, sure. Go read the doll his parents’ suicide letter.”

Despair keeps your footsteps heavy as you make your way across the hall into Tenko’s room. You settled him on the bed with Mon-chan, like always, and you sit down on the end of the bed, the same as you do when you read him a bedtime story. “Tenko,” you start. “Um, I have to go. And I have something to tell you. I feel like you should hear it from me and not somebody else.”

You lay out the situation carefully, fighting back tears. “I’m sorry to leave like this. I don’t want to, but Keigo’s here, and he says –”

“Don’t want to?”

You haven’t heard the ghost’s voice since it talked to you about your brother. “I don’t want to,” you say. “Keigo says I have to.”

“Don’t make me sound like a dictator. I want what’s best for you,” Keigo says from the doorway. “That’s enough. Let’s go.”

“No.”

That was audible. Keigo should be able to hear it. “Keigo, did you hear –”

“You talking to yourself? Yeah.” Keigo grabs your arm, yanks you sharply away from the bed. “You went crazier than I thought in here, huh?”

“No.”

This time Keigo hears it. You can see it in his face. A split second later, the lights go out.

Keigo’s grip on your arm tightens. There’s a crash from somewhere else in the house, and his grip tightens further. He drags you out of Tenko’s room through the darkened house. “Did you plan this or something?” he asks you as you stumble down the stairs after him. “It’s a good show. If you put this much effort into making our relationship work –”

“NO.” The lights in the front hall switch on, revealing something standing dead center in the hallway, between you and the way out.

Keigo curses and rocks back a step, but you know instantly what you’re looking at, who you’re looking at. “No,” Shimura Tenko says. “No means no.”

Tenko doesn’t look very much like the doll anymore. His grey eyes are red, and his black hair is white, but you recognize his features. They’re the same ones from the doll, from the family portrait, from your memories his parents and the poster you saw of his grandmother. He’s thin, almost skeletal, his hands and limbs spiderlike. He looks filthy, and his clothes are ragged. If you’d had a nightmare of what might haunt this house the first night you moved in, it would have looked exactly like this.

You’re looking at Shimura Tenko. Shimura Tenko’s supposed to have been dead for seventeen years. You don’t know how or why he’s here, but you know one thing, one thing that’s been true since you realized the Shimura house was haunted: You’d rather take your chances with a ghost. “I don’t want to leave,” you say to Tenko, ignoring Keigo when he orders you to be quiet. “I promised I would stay.”

Tenko’s crimson gaze shifts from you to Keigo. “She stays,” he says in that strange, not-quite-human voice. “You leave.”

Keigo laughs. “Sorry, I don’t think you get it. We’re leaving. You’re staying right where you are.”

He starts down the hall again, your efforts to fight free barely making a skip in his stride. The front door opens a crack behind Tenko, and you can see a white-haired someone peering through. One of the Todorokis, maybe Touya or Natsuo who promised they’d warn you if they saw Keigo coming. Touya points at you, beckons. “I’m going to tell you this one more time,” Keigo is saying to Tenko. “Get out of the –”

Tenko lunges at him. Keigo lets go of you. And you run straight out the front door, down the front steps. Past the Todoroki siblings. As far and as fast as your legs will carry you, until you trip on something, hit your head on something else, and black out on the ground.

Smoke stings your nasal passages, and you wake up coughing. Someone is breathing raggedly next to you, and someone else is shaking your shoulder. “Come on,” Natsuo is saying under his breath. “Come on, come on –”

“No, be careful, she hit her head –” Fuyumi is patting your hand. “If you can hear us, we need you to wake up. It’s Tenko.”

Tenko, the doll? No, Tenko the – whatever he is. The thing that’s alive. The thing that’s real enough to challenge Keigo to a fight. You sit up with the worst headache you’ve had in maybe your entire life and look around. The grounds of the Shimura estate are eerily backlit, and when you glance over your shoulder, you see that the Shimuras’ house is in flames. “What – happened?”

“Tenko killed the cop,” Natsuo says. You look blankly at him. “Touya said we should burn down the house to hide it, and we thought Tenko understood. But then he went back inside.”

“He won’t come out,” Fuyumi says. “Touya’s been yelling for him, but he’s not responding. If we don’t get him out soon he’ll die. If he won’t listen to Touya, then –”

“Maybe he’ll listen to you,” Natsuo says. His expression twists. “He used to be normal. What happened to him?”

You don’t have a clue. Tenko’s alive. Somehow, some part of him – something that looks like him, or is him, or answers to his name. Tenko’s alive, and Keigo is dead, and that’s so difficult to process that your mind skips straight past it. Or tries to. Tenko is alive, and Keigo is dead because Tenko killed him, and for some reason Touya thought it was a good idea to try to burn down the Shimura house. You squeeze your eyes shut and try your hardest to compartmentalize. You can’t stop the house from burning. You can’t bring Keigo back to life. But there is someone alive in there. You can do something about that.

You get to your feet unsteadily and turn back towards the house. The top floor is in flames, light flickering behind the boarded-up windows, and although there’s smoke flooding the grounds, the lower floors of the house look clear of fire. It’s safe for you to go in. Safe enough. You duck past Touya, who’s been hollering up at the windows for Tenko to get “his creepy man-spider ass” out here, and in through the front door. And from there you have no idea what to do.

If you knew anything about who Tenko really is, you’d know where to look. The habits of doll Tenko tell you absolutely nothing. When he’s moved, or been moved, there’s no rhyme or reason to where he’s ended up – except for one time, the first time the doll ever moved from the place you left it. You climb the stairs, turn down the hall, dart past your room. The door to Tenko’s is open, the room itself trashed all over again. The only thing still in place is Mon-chan, sitting on the bed.

You grab it, in case it helps. Then you turn back to the place you found Tenko last time, and sure enough, he’s there. Right behind the door. But while doll Tenko could conceal himself perfectly in the space, the real Tenko is too tall and gangly. Even hunched in on himself with his knees drawn to his chest, there’s an elbow sticking out of the shadows in one spot, a foot sticking out in the another. His red eyes stare out blankly through the tangle of matted white hair. He’s not moving except to cough.

You’re coughing, too. It’s hard to speak. “Tenko, come on,” you say. “It’s not safe anymore. It’s time to go.”

“Dead.” His voice sounds even less human now. “They left me.”

His parents. “That doesn’t mean you have to stay here,” you say. “You don’t have to die because they did. You can come with me.”

There’s blood on Tenko’s hands, on his clothes. It’s smeared on the lower half of his face, draining from his nose and from a cut on his forehead. You pull your sleeve down over your hand, reach forward, and wipe it away, clamping down on the shiver that runs through you when he turns his head against your hand. “Come with me,” you say again, and he shakes his head. “Okay. Then move over.”

Tenko looks up, startled. “I said I didn’t want to leave you,” you say. “I meant it.”

You were wondering, all this time, if you’d know you’d finally lost your mind when it happened. The answer is yes, and the magical thing about losing your mind is that you don’t care all that much. The ex-boyfriend you were running from is dead. The house you were staying in is burning to the ground. You’ve spent the last three months taking care of a doll in a house you thought was haunted by a ghost, only to realize that everything you’ve been doing for the doll, you’ve been doing for the man it was modeled after, too. The world is upside down, twisted, backwards. Nothing and everything make sense right now.

“Either we both go,” you say, coughing harder now, “or we both stay. It’s up to you.”

You pull your hand back from wiping at his face and hold it out for him to take. He looks at it, then at you, and you wonder what he’s thinking. You wonder if he’s even scared of dying, if dying matters to something like him, whatever he is. If he really is Tenko, he’s died once before already, hasn’t he? Is it any harder to die again? Whether it is or not, Tenko doesn’t seem interested in finding out. He takes your hand, lets you pull him to his feet, and then yanks you out into the hall himself.

The air is thick and grey, and the flames are catching up, but Tenko’s fast as he drags you down the hall to the stairs. You stumble over a body at the base of them and make the mistake of looking at the face. Or what’s left of the face. Tenko doesn’t let you look for long. He pulls you past Keigo’s body to the front door and shoves you out of it – and then, before he can retreat, Natsuo and Touya seize him by his arms and yank him out after you.

The four of you tumble down the steps, landing in a heap in the driveway. Tenko is coughing, a wet, horrible sound, and while you’re able to get to your feet, he barely moves. You and the Todorokis have to drag him away from the house, down the driveway until all you can see of the house is the pillar of flames billowing up from the roof. You stop to catch your breath, and the others stop, too. You and Fuyumi, Touya and Natsuo, and Tenko sprawled on the ground between you.

It’s quiet for a second. “Wow,” Touya says to Tenko. “You’re even weirder-looking than I remember. And you reek.”

Fuyumi smacks him. Natsuo’s got bigger things to worry about. “What are we going to do with him?” he demands. “If that’s even him. If it’s some kind of monster that’s bad enough. If it’s him, he’s been dead for seventeen years – and he just killed a guy!”

“That guy was a fuckweasel,” Touya says. He glances at you. “Right?”

You don’t want to say yes. “He wasn’t a very nice guy,” you say, and Touya snorts. “I was scared of him.”

“And you’re not scared of that?” Natsuo demands.

“He’s not a that,” you say. “He’s –”

You don’t really know what. Tenko bleeds red like a human. Based on the way Tenko was yanking you around, he’s really strong. He’s so thin that he’s almost a skeleton, and he smells like he hasn’t showered in seventeen years. But whatever he is, he’s alive. That’s where you’ll start from. “He’s Tenko,” you say finally, for lack of a better way to phrase it. “I don’t know what his deal is, but I’m not scared of him right now. If I do get scared, I’ll deal with it then. I’m not leaving him here.”

“No one thinks we should do that,” Fuyumi reassures you. “We just need to think of where to put him. I know a place.”

It’s quiet for a second. “No,” Touya says suddenly. “He’s not staying at my place.”

“Just for tonight,” Fuyumi urges. “We can sneak him in now – Dad won’t be back for hours, he’ll be coming to investigate this – and clean him up before we figure out what to do with him.”

“She can stay there, too,” Natsuo says, nodding at you. “If Dad comes by, she can answer the door, and Dad will be so thrilled at the idea that you’re having straight sex that he won’t bother you for a week.”

Touya snickers at that. “Fine,” he says to Tenko. Then, to you: “You can borrow some of my clothes for him, but I’m not helping you give him a bath.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to,” you say. The idea of giving doll Tenko a bath felt so weird that you never did it. The idea of giving adult Tenko a bath is less weird but still something you aren’t looking forward to. You can hear sirens in the distance. “We should go now.”

Tenko’s semiconscious as you and the Todorokis load him into Touya’s car. Nobody wants to sit in the back with him, but someone has to, so you and Tenko have the backseat to yourself while all three Todorokis jam together up front. Tenko buckles his own seatbelt, but as soon as Touya pulls onto the main road, he unbuckles himself and crawls across the backseat towards you. You retreat, but there’s only so far you can go. “Uh –”

“Guys, he’s climbing on her!” Natsuo’s keeping an eye on you. “Leave her alone!”

Touya meets your eyes in the rearview mirror. “Need me to pull over?”

You shake your head. Tenko’s settling into the seat next to yours, and he buckles himself again before twisting sideways to face you. He looks awful, and somehow worse than that, he looks scared. You can’t tell if it’s a childish fear or not. Tenko hasn’t left his house in seventeen years – it wouldn’t surprise you if he was agoraphobic. And if you’d just left the only home you’d ever known in flames behind you, you’d be scared, too.

And you remember what Tenko said to you, after you told him what happened to your brother. He probably wasn’t talking to your brother from the beyond. But if the story Touya and the others believe about how Hana and Tenko ended up in the well is true, Tenko knows how it feels to have an older sister who tried to save him. Maybe it’s still okay for you to believe that your brother, wherever he is, feels the same way, too. Tenko didn’t have to give you that, but he did.

You open your arms slightly, and Tenko collapses forward into them, his spiderlike hands grabbing fistfuls of your shirt and hanging on tight. He’s too tall to hide his face in your shoulder, like he seems to want to do. His mouth ends up pressed against your ear instead. “I’m not a doll anymore,” he says. His voice is roughened with smoke, but there’s a softness to it, incongruous enough to make your skin crawl. “I can take care of you, too.”

It could be a child’s innocent insistence on fairness, a man’s confident assertion, a monster’s implicit threat. As Touya’s car speeds down the road, you come to the conclusion that it might be all three at once, and something more – the promise of a lover, sealed by cracked, bloody lips pressing against your cheek.

#asks #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x you #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura x you #tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x you #tenko shimura x reader #tenko shimura x you #shimura tenko x reader #shimura tenko x you #x reader #reader insert #man door hand hook car door #anons #halloween 2024

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sitepathos · 2 months ago

Note

What if Y/N was a dad before Bruce figured out he was gone? Like would he rush to see him and his grandchild? What if the child was like rose being able to control the mold and Y/N now has to deal with Bruce and his sons?

Ok, wow, was not expecting that! But, this ask was too good to pass up! But, let me do you one better: instead of baby Rose, you have an adopted daughter like Eveline, complete with the need for a family and everything! Have fun with that!

You first met Eveline when you stopped at a pit stop at night, craving a slushee, but you saw her, a ten year old girl in wet, torn up clothing and no shoes to protect her bloody and scratched up feet, on the side of the building, looking incredibly weak and filthy.

You immediately got out and started attending to her, asking where her parents were and trying to tend to her wounds.

“Mommy and Daddy said I had to wait in the woods,” she weakly says, coughing in between words. “They said it was a game.”

You immediately realize this wasn’t a game. They left her for dead in the middle of the woods, either to die from starvation or predation.

“ I waited for five days. Did I win?”

“You did, sweetie,” you responded, not wanting to upset her.

(She does not have long,” the Megamycete said as you tried in vain to keep her awake. (She has been without proper care for too long. But she can be saved. All you need to do is inject her with some mold. It will heal her.)

Part of you didn’t want to do that. That making her like you would be cruel without explaining it to her, but she was dying. And no kid should die that young.

So you do it, placing some mold in her body through one of her scratches, which immediately begins healing her.

When she opened her eyes, she latched onto you and refused to let go, apparently having imprinted on you like a bird.

Your first thought was to take her to the nearest authorities so they could take it from there and arrest her parents, but both she and the Megamycete disagreed whit that.

“No,” she cried while wrapping both arms around yours. “Don’t send me away! I promise to be a good girl!”

(We object to your proposal. Keeping the girl would be the most prudent course of action.)

“Alright, you can come with us.”

“Thank you! I promise to be the best girl ever, Daddy!”

The name rubbed you the wrong way. For fuck’s sake, you’re 18! You should be her older brother, not her “daddy.”

But Eveline wouldn’t call you anything else and after an hour of trying to argue with a 10 year old, you finally conceded defeat.

And that’s how you started your weird little “family,” complete with a sentient mushroom in your body and a moldy 10 year old girl as your “daughter.”

Over time, you learned that Eveline had an obsession with the idea of having a family. Apparently, all she wished was for her parents to be like the ones on cartoons, loving their daughter with all their heart, reading her bedtime stories, walking her to school, and baking cookies.

“But now I have you, Daddy! And you’ll be perfect than my old one!”

Not gonna lie, you teared up at her wish for a family. You know that feeling more than anyone. Maybe being a “Daddy” will be good for the both of you.

You just gotta get use to the looks you get when you say she’s your adoptive daughter.

Over the four years, you two became close, doing everything she thought happy families do, from baking cookies and playing games to reading bedtime stories and kissing her goodnight.

When she started showing her powers (mycokinesis, hallucination manipulation, shapeshifting, and superhuman strength, stamina, and durability), you made it clear that she’s never to use them unless in a life or death situation and helped train her to control them.

She took to her new life right away, excelling in school and showing interest in your hobbies, loving the nickname you gave her Eevee (after your favorite Pokémon).

Of course, her obsession with families never left her, always staying by your side and never straying far from home, even at the tender age of 14.

Of course you told her about your Momma, how you lost her, and were forced to live at Wayne Manor where you were treated horribly.

Hearing her Daddy, the nicest person she knows, be treated like that pissed her off. She wanted to go to Gotham and tear Batman and the others apart.

Of course, you couldn’t let that happen (no mater how much you thought of it).

“We’re here, now, Eevee. And they can’t get to us.

“Ok, but if they ever show up, I’ll rip them apart!”

Then, the night of the Gamer’s Gala happened, and oh boy, was it something to behold.

She had been looking forward to meeting Alfred after all the stories you told her (of course, you didn’t tell the poor butler because that’s something you don’t say over the phone), but when she saw Bitch Wayne (her nickname for Bruce) sit next to her, she screamed so loud that everyone in the hall heard her.

She immediately pounced on the man and screamed all sorts of insults and threat at him, leading to security having to pull her off the legendary millionaire.

She wanted to summon a mold tendril and squeeze his head off or create an hallucination so bad he’d claw his own eyes out, but she promised her Daddy she’d never use her powers unless it was life or death.

It was at the security room that Bruce learned that she, a 14 year old girl, was your daughter. Adoptive, sure, but still your daughter.

And oh boy, did that man have so many questions.

But that girl is your daughter, and therefore a part of his family (holy shit, he’s a grandfather!), so he tries to bring you both back to Gotham.

Now, at this point, I can see this going 2 ways.

One: Eveline remains loyal to you and fights side by side against the Bats.

Or two: Eveline falls victim to the Wayne’s manipulation, tempting the poor girl with a big family that would give her all the love she could ever want.

You’re her Daddy and she’ll always be grateful for what you did for her.

But, she still has an uncontrollable need for a family, complete with a Granddaddy, a Great Granddaddy, aunts, and uncles! And pets! And a huge house! With a huge yard!

So, she helps them bring you back to Wayne Manor, her powers combined with the Bats’ gadgets and skills bringing you down.

Of course, all of them are astounded when you both display your control over the mold, but they have you and her, so what doesn’t it matter?

“We’re a big, happy family, Daddy! Isn’t that great!”

#yandere batfamily #asks #from gold to mold

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whateverisbeautiful · 3 months ago

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♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#37: The Good Kind Heart (1.04)

gif cred: @kimwexlersponytail

This scene right here just exudes warmth and I love it so much. 🥰 It was food for the soul seeing Richonne all cuddled up like they've always loved to do. And best of all, it was great to see them finally having a heartwarming conversation about their baby 🥹...

Danai wrote some of the best dialogue since The Walking Dead’s prime. It’s excellent and her pen was especially on fire in the remainder of this bedroom scene, featuring my favorite Richonne content ever. 🔥

Like a lengthy scene with just Rick and Michonne in bed and fantastic dialogue - that is my exact cup of tea and I see exactly why it was said that this episode was for us. And it's for anyone who enjoys quality content too. 😊

So first; the visual of Rick and Michonne holding hands in bed just instantly makes me so happy. 🥰 I love how they feel right at home being back in each other's arms. And it's sweet seeing them be so at peace even despite the fact that this building is on the verge of going down. Again, when they're together the world and crumbling buildings can wait. 👌🏽

And I’ve always said it cuz it’s always been true - in each other's arms is where these two are most meant to be. 😌

Then, it never fails to elate me to hear that the first thing Rick says is, “He looks like me?” 🥲 Now there is the man I know who would absolutely want to talk about his son.😊 And it’s so cute the content way he says it.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

I love that he asks this question specifically too. Because RJ really is his mini-me and it’s like he’s getting this joy in knowing that he definitely contributed to that little boy even if he hasn’t been around to raise him.

Michonne laughs when he asks because she knows RJ is Rick’s little twin. And then Rick makes Michonne laugh again when he teases, “So he’s really good-looking?” 😊

First - I love seeing Richonne back to laughing and being lighthearted. Second; there’s never been a cuter couple ever. They're just perfect together inside and out. Third; it always tickles me that Danai wrote something that acknowledges how attractive Rick/Andy is lol. I mean, the fineness needed to be recognized. 😌

gif cred: @riickgrimes

It is so sweet the way Rick’s face lights up when he makes Michonne laugh and how she’s always just so smitten by him.

Another thing I always love seeing in this moment is just how comfy Michonne seems. Like she just appears so gorgeously glowy and relaxed and like she’s been able to return to herself in a new way after their moment of intimacy. And a lot of that is because her safe space is back. 🥲

gif cred: @perryabbott

And now that he's stopped trying to act like what they have is broken, Rick also just seems so refreshingly relaxed and released from at least a little bit of the pain he'd been carrying.

Michonne answers him saying, “It’s nuts how much he looks like you. Save for the light brown skin it’s hard to tell I had anything to do with it - Oh but he does have my eyes.” This is the Richonne parents' content I signed up for! 🙌🏽

gif cred: @riickgrimes

I adore seeing Rick and Michonne finally get to just talk as RJ’s mom and dad and happily chat about the features they gave their baby. 😭

gif cred: @riickgrimes

And I feel like TWD and TOWL def gave enough indication that Michonne’s eyes are one of Rick’s favorite things so I love that he gets to learn that his son has her eyes. I’m just beaming watching how precious this whole exchange is.🥰

gif cred: @riickgrimes

I love how attentive Rick is as she tells him about their son and how Michonne always has such a radiance about her when speaking about her kids.

And then Rick, knowing who RJ is made up of, has a strong feeling he knows one of his son’s traits when he asks/says, “And he’s stubborn?” I love the way he asks it like he already knows the answer. 😋

gif cred: @riickgrimes

And Michonne’s face again lights up as she immediately nods and says, “Just like his daddy, yes.” So so so cute. 🥹

I love the melodic way she says it and the way Rick instantly laughs because even tho he knows he was asking based on who RJ’s mom is, he also knows she’s right about him being stubborn.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

You can very visibly see how much Rick likes hearing that his son is just like his daddy.

But then it becomes even cuter when Rick says, “Like his mama” and kisses Michonne's shoulder. Y’all, 🫠.

Inject this whole moment into my veins, please. Their smiles here are everything and hearing them call each other RJ’s daddy and mama. The absolute best. 😭

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Rick’s “like his mama” with the shoulder kiss and Michonne’s smile live rent-free in my head for real. I love it. They’re so tender and warm with each other even when teasing and it’s perfect. Andy and Danai really made every right choice in this entire scene. 🤩

I adore how Rick and Michonne both think the other is stubborn but that they so clearly love that about each other. And it’s true - Richonne is stubborn as all get out which was clear throughout this episode especially. But it works because with each other they’re always willing to eventually meet each other where they’re at.

In season 10, Michonne told Ezekiel that she and him wouldn't have worked out because they’re both too stubborn and I remember back then thinking 'Rick is stubborn too tho'...but Rick and Michonne’s brand of stubbornness actually complements each other well.

(And Rick is stubborn but 99% of the time he's not stubborn with Michonne 😋)

Richonne basically survived that CRM helicopter crash because of their stubbornness - Rick being stubborn about getting Michonne home alive led him to talk to her cash crazy which then led Michonne, who was stubborn about not leaving without him, to yank them both out of the helicopter.

And even tho RJ didn’t have many scenes in TWD I feel like his adorable stubbornness was still hinted at occasionally. Like how Daryl told Michonne that RJ was refusing to eat his vegetables.

And this year I saw a s11 clip where RJ covers for Judith and the little guy will not spill his big sister's whereabouts. It’s cute. 😊 He gets his stubbornness from both his parents.

Also, I like how knowing RJ is stubborn and good-looking is how Rick most knows this is a Richonne baby. Those are two strong qualities Rick and Michonne both possess lol. And I love that Rick already seems like such a proud dad over RJ and proud knowing that his son's mom is Michonne. 🥰

gif cred: @nat111love

After years of wanting to see Rick and Michonne joyfully talk about their kid it was so so special to see that finally play out here.

And then this scene was already giving me everything I wanted with Richonne being all happy, playful, and snuggly while talking about their baby boy, and then it gets just a million times sweeter when Michonne then turns toward him and softly says, “He does have your good kind heart though. That’s what reminds me the most of you.” Absolutely Beautiful. 🥹

Like the visual with Richonne wrapped in each other's arms and their faces so close together, the words, the delivery, the lighting, the moment, all just so beautiful. 👏🏽

gif cred: @riickgrimes

I adore hearing Michonne tell Rick that their son has his heart. And the Richonne tones are back in full force which you know I’m always here for. It’s also so powerful for Michonne to say this cuz there were a few moments in this episode where Rick’s good kind heart was MIA but Michonne never stopped believing in his heart.

She knows that his good kind side is still in there because it can’t help but show itself like in the moments Rick would check on her while they were running through the building.

It’s also so sweet that this means whenever Michonne would see RJ being good and kind, she would see Rick. 😭

And Michonne has an extremely good kind heart too but she loves Rick so much that for her she feels like RJ got that heart from her husband. 🥲

She says it so sincerely too and it’s clear Rick’s good kind heart is something she loves most about him and her son. Me too. 🙋🏽‍♀️

And seeing Michonne smile as she shares this, the love for her boys is so evident. When she says it too it just feels like something she’s been longing to tell Rick for years - That their son has his heart.

I adore that Rick gets to know that while he and Michonne have been apart, she hasn’t been entirely without him because every day she got to wake up to his little mini-me who had his smile, stubbornness, and most of all, and best of all, his good kind heart. She still had a piece of Rick’s heart, flesh, and blood with her. RJ is such a gift. 🥹

It’s also so sweet to then see Rick’s response to his wife’s beautiful words about him and their son. The way Rick looks at Michonne after she says this, you know he heard the ‘I love you’ in her words.

I really get the sense that Rick too is moved by how much Michonne loves and believes in his good kind heart even despite some of his previous treatment this ep. There’s a reason Rick’s dreams constantly reminded him of Michonne’s belief in him because she really does support and believe in him like no other.

So then another top tier Richonne moment occurs when Rick then raises up and pulls Michonne closer to him as they share this precious look and have their most precious kiss. 😍 Like to say I adore this whole moment is an understatement.

I of course always love Richonne’s hungry make-out sessions but something about those sweet and simple single kisses is just as mesmerizing. 🤩

And this one here - I call it the “Baby, we made a baby” Kiss, because the way Rick and Michonne look at each other and smile and then have this tender kiss, it just feels like a moment of them sharing in the joyous acknowledgment that they really did have that baby they dreamed about.

I love how as Rick pulls her closer before the kiss she like softly hits his chest. Then I really love the way they look at each other after the kiss. It is just sweetness personified to see them both be so taken by each other and present in this moment. 😍

Rick is in full lover-boy mode the way he smiles at her, bites his lip a little, and rubs her stomach. I loved seeing that movement after he didn’t get a chance to be there to rub her stomach during the pregnancy. 🥲 In this moment it just feels like he’s so aware and appreciative that Michonne carried his child.

gif cred: @nat111love

And Michonne’s smile up at him. 🥹 Just so much love communicated. Also, I always love that the bullet casing can be seen in her hair. After all those years of finding these little ways to stay close to Rick, now here he is with her in this bed as close as can be. Won’t He Do It. 🙌🏽

And then y’all, since they’re always in sync they’re both ready for a hot and heavy round two when they go in for that second kiss. 😏

gif cred: @lousolversons

I love how quickly they’re ready to match each other's energy with Rick starting to lift the sheet off her and Michonne putting her hands in his hair before reaching down somewhere and wrapping her legs around him which...

That second kiss is instantly hot and they are both fully ready to go another round…but then a hilarious interruption occurs when that roomba comes riding in with its beeping noises. And Rick’s startled reaction is comedy. 😂

gif cred: @taiturner

Michonne thinks Rick’s reaction to the cleaning device is humorous too as she lifts up and laughs, explaining to her country-boy husband that it’s just a Roomba. Rick looks straight up bewildered as Michonne tells him about Roombas and what they do.

And of course, the modern city girl Michonne had one herself from before. I love even learning little details like this about Michonne’s pre-ZA life. 😊

Like anytime Michonne drops a new detail about her life before, even about cleaning tools she used to own, my extra self is always intrigued and all-ears like...

Michonne says, “That explains why it’s so spotless” as she gives Rick another amused look and lays back down. It’s cute how you can tell she finds his perplexity cute here. 😋

And so while the Roomba distracted them from another round a bit, there still could have been hope of them maybe picking up where they left off…but then this next conversation happens and we’re reminded Richonne still has a whole lot to unpack. 🤕

As for this good kind heart scene tho - Perfection. Loved every second of it and it just portrayed so much of what makes Richonne such a beautiful pairing. 👏🏽 Seeing Rick and Michonne have this lovely moment as RJ’s parents was sublime and I’ll forever adore this heartwarming exchange. 🥹👌🏽

#richonne #towl #reveling in richonne #1.04 #RIR (37)#the ones who live #twd towl #michonne grimes #rick grimes #rick x michonne #twol #michonne #rick and michonne #twd: the ones who live #twd #richonnefandom

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esoteric-oracle · 1 year ago

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//long rambles ahead!

I think what really lingers with me about MDZS is that it's not a novel with a cathartic ending at all. It's a bittersweet story that leaves you slightly hollow. Yes, it's a beautiful and epic romance. It's a piece of social commentary interwoven with a love story and murder mystery. It's a cautionary tale. But it is also very much a tragedy. It's a story about being too late, second chances, and moving on.

By the time the truth of everything JGY and JGS did comes to light, it's 13 years too late. Everything that mattered has already happened. Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan are long dead. Jin Ling is still an orphan. Wen Ning is dead, and sometime in the future, his death will be permanent. Wen Qing was burned to death at the stake for no fault of her own. Nie Mingjue has already spent ten years in a no-doubt agonizing state of un-death, and Lan Xichen will have to bear the guilt of loving both Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao, and by doing so, forsaking them both. Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng's once-close bond is irrevocably broken, and the woman who sowed the seeds of resentment when they were still children will never face the consequences of her vitriol.

People sometimes say MXTX was too hard on the side characters, and only gave the Wangxian a happy ending, but what stuck with me after finishing the story is how… sad things are. Yes, Wangxian finally get the happy ending they've deserved for nearly 20 years - but at the same time, it's not a happy ending where the people who've wronged them get the consequences they deserve.

Wei Wuxian will spend the rest of his life haunted by guilt and loss, over what happened to Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan, over the loss of the Wen remnants. The rest of his years won't even be lived in the body his parents gave him.

Lan Wangji will spend the rest of his years wondering if he'd chosen to stand with Wei Wuxian when it mattered - would his son have had to grow up without his birth family?

Nie Huaisang is left wondering if his brother had been a little less trusting and had never taken Meng Yao in as a Nie deputy, would his brother have died a less wretched death? Would he have been forced to stoop to ruthless machinations and manipulations to seek some semblance of justice?

Wen Ning will have to live with the knowledge that if he'd been a little less kind, if he'd let Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng die that fateful day - his family would still be alive. The Wens would've won the war; Wen Qing might've even succeeded Wen Ruohan.

No one really gets the ending they deserve. MDZS isn't a story where good people get happy endings, and bad people get their dues. Sure, Jin Guangyao's crimes are revealed and he faces the consequences of his actions. But what about the people who stood by and made him into a monster? If anything, the side characters and antagonists who survive get better than they deserve. The real villain of MDZS - society - will never face retribution. Those cultivators who always believed in their own bigotry and righteousness over and over again, will never face justice.

Do you think those cultivators and the public will ever feel any regret for the innocent people they condemned to death in their own prejudice and blind self-righteousness? Do you think the people who gathered at Nightless City to call for Wei Wuxian's death considered for one second that he was the biggest reason they won the war? When the cultivators who sacked the Wen settlement at the Burial Mounds threw the bodies of the Wens into the blood pool, do you think that was a sign of shame?

Do you think Jiang Cheng will ever regret leading a siege on a small settlement of innocent farmers? Do you think he's haunted by condemning to death the same people whom he owes his life to?

Do you think those people like Yao-zongzhu will ever feel an ounce of remorse for so easily believing rumours and hearsay, and spreading speculation and vitriol about innocent people?

Do you think that unnamed cultivator out there will ever lose a single minute of sleep over smashing in Wen Popo's head?

In the years that follow, Wen Ning will have apologized a hundred times for lives he did not take, crimes he did not commit, because of the name he bears. People, both in-universe, and even readers, will condemn him for actions he could not help, for doing the right thing. But did Jiang Cheng ever apologize for killing his family? Did the Jins ever apologize for their horrific treatment of people in the labour camps?

People will continue to demand that Wei Wuxian apologize for causing the deaths of their friends and family. But how is Wei Wuxian meant to do that? No one ever apologized to him for taking his family away. No one ever apologized for condemning the Wen Remnants to death for crimes they took no part in. The Wens were his family too.

There's so much potential for bitterness and corruption in MDZS. Instead of saving everyone, Wei Wuxian could've stood aside and let the people who tried to kill him die. MDZS could've been a story of succumbing to hatred and grief, but it wasn't. MXTX could've gone on and on about how society wronged the protagonist, but she didn't. The narrative is one of forgiveness and moving beyond past grievances. The story chose to close the story on a positive note. I truly love that aspect of MDZS, where MXTX leaves just enough room for hope and love at the end.

A-Yuan will finally get his closure about the family he lost as a toddler. Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian get their happy ending together after being separated by nearly two decades by war, miscommunication, cruelty, and death.

Wei Wuxian will never regret protecting survivors of an attempted genocide, because it was the right thing to do.

And Wen Ning will still stand in the way and take a fatal blow meant for Jin Ling, despite everything the Jins and Jiang Cheng did to the people he loved.

Because they chose love. Characters like Wei Wuxian and Wen Ning and Lan Wangji have the chance to move on and live a happier life because when they could've succumbed to hurt and fury and resentment, they chose to be kind and do the right thing. Wangxian get their happy ending because they learn to recognize the toxicity of the cultivation society's self-cannibalizing prejudice, and chose to pursue righteousness above personal benefit.

MDZS isn't a story about good people getting good things. Just look at what happened to Xiao Xingchen. There's really nothing satisfying or cathartic about everyone's fates at all. There's no promise about society facing the consequences of their mob mentality or Wangxian actually changing the world together. Even in TGCF, for all its makings of a love story, we get the promise of societal change once Jun Wu is deposed.

It has all the makings to be a tragedy or tale of vengeance of epic proportions - but instead, it's a love story. It's a story about making the best of what you've got, and staying true to yourself and your morals, even if that's sometimes a bitter pill to swallow. It's a story where everything that could go wrong went wrong, but the characters still managed to fight their way to a better ending by choosing kindness. At its core, MDZS is a testament to choosing compassion over cruelty no matter how tragic and hopeless life gets, no matter how long the journey gets. Even though the happy ending is more personal and only applies to the specific characters, even though we don't actually get the promise of their society becoming a better place - we still have the hope that Wei Wuxian's second chance brings. The hope that sometimes, no matter how cruel the world is, some people who deserve it still get their happy endings. That's what makes MDZS such a memorable work of art. That's why it stays with you.

#mdzs #wei wuxian #lan wangji #nie huaisang #jiang cheng #wen ning #musings #Can you tell I really love the narratives MDZS took?#tragedies #mdzs thoughts

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blue-mint-winter · 3 months ago

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About Alyssa Targaryen

Alyssa Targaryen, daughter of Jaehaerys and Alysanne and mother of king Viserys I and Daemon the Rogue Prince, is a character recently talked about due to her brief appearance in the TV show. The fan opinions about her seem strangely very positive. She's seen as a cool character and a good mother to her sons, because she took them dragonriding soon after giving birth. In relation to her younger sisters Alyssa is also seen as the better one or lucky for having a happy marriage with her brother and avoiding a more tragic fate. Certainly she's regarded as the most successful among the daughters of Alysanne because her descendants continued the dynasty. I've seen opinions that Jaehaerys and Alysanne only failed as parents to their younger children (from Daella and younger), who caused many problems, but they raised the older ones - Aemon, Baelon, Alyssa, Maegelle and Vaegon - to become good and decent people. There are also voices that she's just another dead mother, her character is uninteresting/unimportant compared to other sisters and she only exists in the story to have sex and birth future main characters.

After I read about Alyssa in Fire and Blood I found that all of the above opinions feel distinctly off the mark, especially in regards to her good character. Alyssa came off to me as rather unpleasant, mean and obssessed with sex, however the in-universe book's author, maester Gyldayn, doesn't portray any of her bad qualities as bad or undesirable in a princess, while at the same time he's very critical of her sisters' displaying similar faults.

Instead Gyldayn's portrayal of Alyssa focuses on showing her as a good sisterwife to Baelon and mother to Viserys and Daemon. That's what maester Gyldayn and Jaehaerys' propaganda want the readers to think about Alyssa while at the same time telling them that she was the most unfeminine woman she could be. That creates a powerful dissonance while reading about her as compared to others.

This post will be an analysis of Alyssa, her role in the family built on incest and how it affected her and her siblings, her relationships with focus on Baelon and Vaegon, her behaviour and causes of it, her effect on her siblings before and after her death. There will be some extrapolation and theorizing, but I hope it's within reason and will make a coherent argument that Alyssa wasn't like what Gyldayn presents her or what many fans think she was. So buckle up, this will be a long one.

Alyssa's role in the family

Alyssa is the second daughter, but she was born after Daenerys died (in the end of the same year, 60 AC), so functionally she's the eldest daughter, but the shadow of Daenerys hangs over her. Alyssa was her replacement in her mother's eyes until Alysanne realized when Alyssa was 6 years old that she didn't take after Daenerys, but Baelon. From a young age Alyssa preferred boy activities and didn't want to spend time with other girls.

The princess did not act like a girl, however. She wore boy’s clothes when she could, shunned the company of other girls, preferred riding and climbing and dueling with wooden swords to sewing and reading and singing, and refused to eat porridge.

One fundamental, glaring difference between young Daenerys and Alyssa was exactly the type of sibling dynamic they had with Aemon and Baelon. Daenerys was their older sister, a little queen and she was bossing them around.

The young princes loved their sister to distraction, it was plain to see, and Daenerys delighted in the boys, “especially in telling them what to do.”

Alyssa was the younger sister who was seeking her big brother's attention. She trailed after Baelon and, as it turns out later, she never really stopped.

Just as Baelon had once followed Aemon everywhere, Alyssa trailed after Baelon. “Like a puppy,” the Spring Prince complained. Baelon was two years younger than Aemon, Alyssa nearly four years younger than him…“and a girl,” which made it far worse in his eyes.

At this point in their lives she was just an annoying younger sister to Baelon.

Daenerys was a leader of her brothers, Alyssa - their follower. Even in the role of the older sister Alyssa was nothing like Daenerys. She wasn't a leader to her own younger siblings, instead she spurned them and stayed distant from them. It's also mentioned 3 times in the book that Daenerys told her pregnant mother that she wanted a younger sister. Alyssa reacted in an opposite way to Deanerys - she didn't want anything to do with her younger sister Maegelle and refused her company.

A gentle, selfless, and sweet-natured girl, and exceedingly bright, she soon attached herself to her sister Alyssa in much the same way that Prince Baelon had attached himself to Prince Aemon, though not entirely as happily. Now it was Alyssa’s turn to bristle at having “the baby” clinging to her skirts. She evaded her as best she could, and Baelon laughed at her fury.

Alyssa's shunning of other girls and having interest in boys' activities sets her apart from her sister. Maybe it was a result of young Alyssa wanting to be different in her mother's eyes than the dead sister she never knew. Probably she just wanted to spend time playing with her brothers so she emulated them. Also, she could have noticed their close bond to their father and tried to earn his love and approval by being like them. It is noticeable that, after losing Daenerys, Jaehaerys was less involved with raising his new children.

On the surface level, it's assumed that Alyssa is just another Arya-type, but I think she has a lot more in common with Cersei in her characteristics and relationships, even though her physical description (mismatched eyes - violet and green, crooked nose after an injury) is reminiscent of Tyrion. Perhaps Alyssa's description is meant to highlight that she's Lannister-coded.

Does the parallel between Alyssa and Cersei foreshadow a similar contrast between Cersei and Daenerys Stormborn in the future books? Perhaps Daenerys will be bossing around both Jaime and Tyrion like her namesake did with Aemon and Baelon.

Alysanne and Jaehaerys announced the betrothals of their older children in 68 AC. That's when it was decided that Alyssa will not take Daenerys' place as Aemon's wife. Instead, Alysanne planned to recreate her own relationship with Jaehaerys by deciding to marry their second son to second/eldest living daughter.

“Alyssa is for Baelon,” she declared. “She has been following him around since she could walk. They are as close as you and I were at their age.”

So a 7 year old Alyssa is told by her mother that she will marry Baelon, her favourite brother, that she's meant for him. That sounds similar to Cersei's belief how she was one with Jaime, that they belonged to each other. Cersei also switched with Jaime, pretending to be him to go to swordplay lessons. Only difference is that Alyssa was encouraged to pursue a romantic relationship with her brother, while Cersei was separated from Jaime and had to keep the affair secret. Alyssa was raised to be her brother's sisterwife and giving him children was the only expectation placed on her by her parents.

The Vaegon Incident

Another similarity between Alyssa and Cersei is that they tormented their little brothers. When I read about the incident with Alyssa pouring wine on Vaegon, I thought it was rather mean and too much. He only said something insensitive to Daella. But one incident of Alyssa being mean can be excused because she defended their younger sister. On the other hand, when she tomented him again, I had to take notice:

One day, mayhaps in an attempt to spur Vaegon into making more of an effort, he brought his sister Alyssa to the yard, shining in man’s mail. The princess had not forgotten the incident of the Arbor gold. Laughing and shouting mockery, she danced around her little brother and humiliated him half a hundred times, whilst Princess Daella looked down from a window. Shamed beyond endurance, Vaegon threw down his sword and ran from the yard, never to return.

Alyssa was 14 and Vaegon was 11. He was training with Baelon for a year at the insistence of their father. The maester claims that Alyssa humiliated Vaegon so badly because of something he'd said a year ago and she'd already punished him for? Either it's true and Alyssa holds grudges like Cersei or... she just hated Vaegon. And I think it wasn't really because of Daella.

Let's rewind to the pouring wine on Vaegon incident.

“I would never marry her,” the boy said, in front of half the court. “She can barely read. She should find some lord in need of stupid children, for that’s the only sort he will ever have of her.” Princess Daella, as might be expected, burst into tears and fled the hall, with her mother, the queen, rushing after her. It fell to her sister Alyssa, at thirteen three years Vaegon’s elder, to pour a flagon of wine over his head. Even that did not make the prince repent. “You are wasting Arbor gold,” was all he said before stalking from the hall to change his clothing.

Notice that Alyssa pours wine on him, but she doesn't say anything like "this is for Daella" or "how could you say that to her". It's only maester Gyldayn's conjecture that she was defending her sister (in his efforts to paint Alyssa as the good one among her sisters and completely unlike the simple-minded, promiscous or vain and ambitious ones). Alyssa and Daella weren't close, Alyssa had no interest in hanging out with her sisters and Daella was scared of her.

Her sister Maegelle became her guiding star, and she worshipped her mother, the queen, but her sister Alyssa seemed to terrify her.

To further prove that the close sibling bond between Alyssa and Daella just didn't exist and was entirely imagined by Gyldayn, let's move on to later years. Daella died in childbirth in 82 AC, I wonder what was Alyssa's take on that if she was such a sister protector and she had her own dragon? Rhaena flew on Dreamfyre and threatened Rogar when her mother, Alyssa Velaryon, died in childbirth and that woman robbed her of the crown. There was a huge rift between Rhaena and her mother for many years and she still came to her mother's deathbed and was deeply affected by her loss. I don't hear anything about Alyssa taking Meleys to the Vale to avenge Daella. Most probably she didn't care that much about Daella. Notice how we never hear anything about her ever interacting with her sisters except that she didn't like Maegelle trailing after her when they were little. Even the so-called defense of Daella happens without Daella being present. Was it really about her at all or was Alyssa just dunking on Vaegon because she had a good pretext? I think the answer is obvious.

If defending Daella wasn't the motivation for the first Vaegon incident then what could have caused Alyssa to lash out at him?

I think it was because Vaegon rebelled against the sibling marriage that was forced on him by their parents.

“Be sweet to your little sister,” King Jaehaerys told the prince when he was five. “One day she will be your Alysanne.”

So Vaegon was told that he's meant for Daella, just like Alyssa is meant for Baelon, but unlike Alyssa, he protested the match and he made sure that everyone knew about it. Gyldayn did say that Vaegon was no coward. It was certainly brave of the boy to defy their parents' will in a public setting. Alyssa never did anything like that. To be fair, Gyldayn never mentioned what was Alyssa's reaction to her betrothal to Baelon. As a child, she might not have understood what it really meant and just agreed. He was her favourite brother after all. In Vaegon's case things were different as he and Daella disliked each other. On Baelon's side of things, he was too dutiful to Alysanne to refuse the match.

At the time of the first Vaegon incident Alyssa is 13, she's older and she understands more about what marriage to Baelon means for her. Maybe she wishes she protested it when she had a chance and now it's too late and she's jealous that Vaegon got to refuse Daella. Maybe she's already so indoctrinated into believing sibling incest is their destiny as Targaryens that she wants to "correct" Vaegon for rebelling against their entire system of belief. What's worse, he wasn't punished for his defiance and forced to marry Daella anyway, but instead he got his way. Alysanne listened to him and convinced Jaehaerys to search for a different, unrelated bride for Vaegon. And Alyssa probably knew that Alysanne was never going to call off the marriage to Baelon.

What's interesting is that first Vaegon incident happens same year that Baelon is knighted, receives Dark Sister and claims Vhagar. Baelon gets the holy insignia and is the new Visenya of his generation. Baelon, not Alyssa, the tomboy who likes swordfighting, who is a Targaryen, a future sisterwife raised on the story of the Conquest. Even if it's not outright said in the text, Alyssa probably idolizes Visenya (like Arya did) and wants to be like her. Aemon will be a king like Aegon, Baelon took the spot of Visenya and all Alyssa has left is to be their Rhaenys and become a mother (also she will like sex in a marriage of love with her brother and die early like Rhaenys). And in fact, her son Viserys became the next king and was similar to Aenys. I wonder if Baelon's knighting happens before or after the first Vaegon incident. In any case, Baelon just took tomboy Alyssa's dream away from her and it will affect her future actions. He's not even a girl and he gets to be Visenya. Just how frustrated and angry Alyssa must be? And who she's going to take it out on? Maybe the younger brother she hates and can bully without any consequences?

After the first incident Vaegon was forced to train with Baelon and spend time with him for a year, but the yard incident was the first time Alyssa was included despite how much she loved training swordplay in her younger days. I'm going to assume that at 13-14 and knowing she'll marry at 15, Alyssa wasn't allowed to train anymore (or her time in the yard was greatly reduced) and instead she was forced into princess/wife lessons, learning to do things she always despised doing (like Cersei). So she sees Vaegon, getting to spend time with Baelon, her favourite brother (is he still her favourite at this point? well, she has no one else she's close to), doing things she likes doing and having absolutely miserable time of it. Alyssa must have been pissed - Vaegon gets to live her dream life at the moment and he dares to complain, he dares to dislike it. She'd kill to be in his position. She's just boiling with anger and envy. If only she was the third son, she wouldn't be forced to play her brother's perfect little bride. She could be just one of the boys and their relationship would remain as it was, uncomplicated. Maybe if she beats Vaegon, it would show everyone that she's better than him, better at being a son. Maybe her parents would realize it and something would finally change.

And of course nothing changed and she was cruel to her little brother for nothing. That's why I called the parallel to Arya rather surface, she never did anything like that to Bran or Rickon, while Cersei's hatred of Tyrion is well-documented. Also, both Vaegon and Tyrion are the bookish younger brothers with no real interest or ability to be warriors. No one defends them from their sisters, not even their parents.

Baelon completes the reenactment of the Lannister sibling dynamic because just like Jaime, he is complicit in the humiliation and traumatizing of his little brother (Vaegon - yard incident, Tyrion - Tysha incident). He brought in Alyssa, he made it happen. I wonder if Jaehaerys told him to do it, like Tywin did with Jaime. It would certainly make sense as Jaehaerys wanted Vaegon to toughen up, so using Alyssa to "motivate" him (train harder, a boy can't be beaten by a girl) could have been his idea all along.

It seems that Alyssa is the answer to the question "what-if Cersei was a Targaryen". And we know Cersei is not a good person at all. There's no evidence in text that Alyssa was a good person beyond her role as Baelon's wife. On the contrary, her treatment of Vaegon, furious rejection of Maegelle's company and non-existent relationship with Daella, who was scared of Alyssa, all prove that she wasn't a good sister to her younger siblings.

The parallels between Alyssa and Cersei are apparent. Even their two sons have some similar characteristics. Viserys and Tommen are seen as weak and soft, Daemon and Joffrey are bloodthirsty and violent.

The parallel of Alyssa to Rhaenys works as well with her son Viserys who is a weak king like Aenys and has warrior, ambitious younger brother Daemon, who was even called "second Maegor" by his contemporaries.

Marriage and dragonriding

After marriage Alyssa claims a dragon, Meleys (name starting with M like Meraxes, Rhaenys' dragon) but at first she wanted to claim Balerion, however the dragonkeepers talked her out of it.

Like her brothers before her, Alyssa Targaryen meant to be a dragonrider, and sooner rather than later. Aemon had flown at seventeen, Baelon at sixteen. Alyssa meant to do it at fifteen.

Again, Alyssa trailing after her brothers, trying to outdo them.

Meleys was as swift a dragon as Westeros had ever seen, easily outpacing Caraxes and Vhagar when she and her brothers flew together.

That really all sounds like a competition that Alyssa is constantly participating in against her brothers, but it's all in her head. She didn't claim the bigger dragon, so she took the faster one. Even her exaggerated bragging about sex sounds like she's trying to be manlier than Baelon.

Speaking of the real competition, Alyssa wasn't a participant, but she was a vital part of it. The competition from the start was between Baelon and Aemon. Baelon was always following his older brother. He started to learn swordfighting early to catch up, had public duels with him, got knighted and claimed Vhagar - a bigger and stronger dragon than Aemon's Caraxes - at 16, so he did it at an earlier age than Aemon did (he was 17). He wanted to outdo his elder brother and marrying Alyssa was a part of that competition. Baelon gets a dragonriding sisterwife, the eldest of their sisters, the one that Jaehaerys intended for Aemon the heir. Aemon marries only their aunt with a small amount of Targaryen blood and without the Valyrian look, who will never claim a dragon. So all around, for Baelon the marriage to Alyssa is a big win over his brother. He's more like their father King than Aemon is, he's more worthy of his love (being the heir).

Young Alyssa saw how close Baelon and Aemon were - it seems natural that she wanted to be included in their competition. But the brother she focused more on was Baelon, not necessarily Aemon (though outdoing Baelon is almost guaranteed to be the same as outdoing Aemon as well). She was trailing after Baelon, she wanted to be as close to him as Aemon, have that sibling bond. Her idea to claim Balerion, the only dragon bigger than Baelon's Vhagar, not to mention the Conqueror's dragon, would have allowed her to outdo both of her brothers. Choosing Meleys, a red dragon just like Aemon's Caraxes, but faster than both of their dragons, puts her on at least equal footing with Aemon, and as a superior to both of them in terms of speed. In the air, they aren't better than she is.

Aemon marries Jocelyn when he's 15 and she's 16, while Baelon is 13 and Alyssa is 9. Alyssa marries Baelon when she's 15 and he's 18. Looks like the wedding was rushed a year because the other princesses married at 16. The reason might be that after Rhaenys was born Jocelyn became unable to give birth again so the king and queen wanted Baelon and Alyssa to quickly make a future husband for Rhaenys. Or Jaehaerys already decided to pass over Rhaenys in succession and saw Baelon as Aemon's heir, therefore Baelon needed a male heir too. Or it was all still part of the brotherly competition of who has a son first.

It's also interesting that Alyssa didn't get pregnant right after the wedding despite the reported frequent sexlife of the couple. She gave birth to Viserys in 77 AC, when she was 17, so she waited around a year before getting pregnant. Daemon was born in 81 AC and Aegon in 84 AC. There was some family planning involved with these mostly even rest periods between pregnancies. For example, Rhaenyra had her second son after a year and the third son was born after 2 years. It's most likely that Alyssa was drinking moon tea, while Baelon was enthusiastic to have sons (and get a win over Aemon). All I'm saying is that this marriage wasn't just pure passion on her side. Alyssa agreed to give children to Baelon, but she controlled when it happened (unlike her mother who was forced to birth Valerion in 77 AC, same year as Viserys, then Gael in 80 AC). That's another similarity with Cersei, who admitted to controlling her own procreation, whose children she had, how many and when.

I think Alyssa wanted to have the time in between pregnancies to pursue her hobbies. Within fortnight after birthing her sons she takes them flying on her dragon and it's not because she wants to give them legendary beginnings - it's probably because she wasn't allowed to fly for months during the pregnancy and she was just impatient to do it again.

Despite claiming a dragon, Alyssa was still excluded. She wasn't allowed to help her brothers and father during the 4th Dornish War. They would never risk her dying like queen Rhaenys in Dorne. Alyssa never used her dragon or sword skills for anything (except humiliating Vaegon). When she tells Baelon that he's made for battles and she for birthing his children, I wonder if it was how she really felt inside? Was she just resigned to her fate at that point? That no matter how much she tried, she will never be a son to Jaehaerys or an equal partner to Baelon and Aemon. She will never be Visenya.

We know that if Cersei or Arya had a dragon, they'd go apeshit with power and go off burning their enemies. And you tell me Alyssa never had a thought to fly to Oldtown and burn the Citadel as the last "fuck you" to Vaegon? Never wanted to burn the Dornish ships alongside her brothers? Never dreamed to go exploring the world? Maybe she was satisfied with Baelon and he kept her home like an anchor. She wouldn't fly off without him. Maybe he and Vhagar ensured she stayed put in King's Landing. Alyssa fully accepted her role as the mother of Baelon's sons. She bent the rules of conforming to her gender, but she couldn't truly break them or she would have lost her privileges.

The truth of Alyssa's character is that in the end she always followed the rules set by her parents. In that way she was a dutiful daughter.

Sex and dragonriding

Sex and dragonriding were Alyssa's favorite activities and she spent hours on both. In her own words she likens them to each other. She says she mounted and rode Baelon and after claiming Meleys she compares herself to her dragon saying that they were both mounted and so lost their virginity.

“Red maidens, the two of us,” the princess boasted, laughing, “but now we’ve both been mounted.”

There's no mention if adult Alyssa still continued sparring, climbing and other masculine activities she preferred in her youth, but most likely she had to give them up in order not to risk any miscarriage. Instead she spent her time on sex and dragonriding - both physical activities that she was allowed and expected to perform. But the way she did them so much, so excessively is rather odd and has implications on her state of mind.

The princess was seldom long away from the Dragonpit after that day. Flying was the second sweetest thing in the world, she would oft say, and the very sweetest thing could not be mentioned in the company of ladies.

Except she did mention it when she announced that she rode Baelon and was going to do it again.

It seems that Alyssa replaced sparring in the yard with another activity she was doing exclusively with Baelon - having sex with him. Moreover, she puts emphasis on riding him, being on top. It suggests that she was still trying to outdo him. It was definitely a way for her to take control of some aspect of her life and their relationship.

Some readers dismiss passages about Alyssa's sexlife as just Gyldayn being gross and perverted. Her sexual behavior is brushed off as unimportant despite how uncommon and even unique her actions were. I can't think of any other female character in ASOIAF acting this way (let me know if there was one), even among the ones who liked sex.

The bride was fifteen, the groom eighteen. Unlike their father and mother, Baelon and Alyssa did not wait to consummate their union; the bedding that followed their wedding feast was the source of much ribald humor in the days that followed, for the young bride’s sounds of pleasure could be heard all the way to Duskendale, men said. A shyer maid might have been abashed by that, but Alyssa Targaryen was as bawdy a wench as any barmaid in King’s Landing, as she herself was fond of boasting. “I mounted him and took him for a ride,” she declared the morning after the bedding, “and I mean to do the same tonight. I love to ride.”

Alyssa is a 15 year old child bride who was so loud during her first time having sex that everyone in the castle heard it and talked about it, then she told them all her favorite sex position. And she was boasting about it. That is not a normal behavior of a girl that just lost her virginity. Gyldayn is weird not because he reported her abnormal actions and words, but because he tries to make them sound like a good thing and not something actually concerning. Just because she's so eager to have sex with her husband, it's all good and fun. And even then, she's compared to a bawdy barmaid (I'm not exactly sure from this wording if Alyssa is boasting that she's bawdy like a barmaid or Gyldayn compares her to a bawdy barmaid because she was fond of boasting about her sexlife). Gyldayn treats this story like a humorous anecdote.

Even if Alyssa was just a horny teenager, why was she so shamelessly discussing her wedding night in public? The reasons I could think of are:

An attempt to act more like a man than a woman by boasting of a sexual "conquest" (another question is if she even knew how women act, she wasn't close to any, but I'm going to assume she knew normal conduct and chose to act differently on purpose).

To say: "I was on top, so I'm the real boss in this marriage".

To embarrass and shame the gossiping courtiers (maybe? But then she kept having loud sex so maybe not).

As a passive-aggressive form of rebellion against her parents - "you can make me marry, but I'm going to act in a way that's as scandalous and embarrassing to you as possible while technically obeying the rules and doing what I'm supposed to do".

Because she feels so euphoric after the sex and she has a poor impulse control, so she's oversharing.

Because being shameless and bawdy is a part of her personality now.

Alyssa's unusual sexual behaviour is dismissed as her just being a horny teenager or having high sex drive or being so in love with Baelon or all of the above. The fact is that Alyssa's sexual habits didn't change until she died at 24 after complications from childbirth.

Alyssa's promiscuous behavior could be caused by her still emulating Baelon and following his lead like in her childhood. When they married he was 18, older and more knowledgeable. Baelon was a lusty lad, so she became bawdy like a barmaid to match him.

I think it can be argued that Alyssa exhibits signs of sex addiction.

Prince Baelon had not ceased smiling since his marriage. When not aloft, Baelon and Alyssa spent every hour together, most oft in their bedchamber. Prince Baelon was a lusty lad, for those same shrieks of pleasure that had echoed through the halls of the Red Keep on the night of their bedding were heard many another night in the years that followed.

One thing is being newlyweds, the other is spending many hours having sex and making it a habit for 9 years of marriage. From the sound of it Alyssa's life revolved around dragonriding and sex, excluding any other activities and company of other people. It seems extremely unhealthy. Spending this much time and focus on sex sounds like she's addicted.

Against all advice, his mother clapped the boy in swaddling clothes, strapped him to her chest, and took him aloft on Meleys when he was nine days old.

Unnecessary risky behaviour resulting in child endagerment? Check. That's what an addict would do. Their inhibitions and impulse control are often lowered.

Another sign of sexual addiction is "engaging in sexual behaviors that go against your personal values, religious beliefs or what society deems appropriate". Alyssa's loud sex and boasting about it definitely aren't what Westerosi society deems appropriate.

Next sign of sex addiction is engaging in paraphilia, like exhibitionism, voyeurism, sadomasochism. Alyssa's behavior is almost exhibitionistic. She's definitely skirting an edge here. She doesn't expose her sexlife to other people's eyes, but to their ears.

“They call me Baelon the Brave,” the prince told his wife at her bedside, “but you are far braver than me. I would sooner fight a dozen battles than do what you’ve just done.” Alyssa laughed at him. “You were made for battles, and I was made for this. Viserys and Daemon and Aegon, that’s three. As soon as I am well, let’s make another. I want to give you twenty sons. An army of your own!”

This quote says a lot. Baelon praised her for being so brave, because childbirth is dangerous and women died because of it - their grandmother Alyssa Velaryon, their sister Daella just died recently, their mother had difficult births with Valerion and Gael. Alyssa just laughs it off, dismisses his worry. She doesn't see the danger. Well, she survived it 3 times, so she's different than other women (she's not as she later doesn't recover and dies at 24). She wants to get back to it ASAP - or rather to the babymaking. That's a risky behavior that disregards her health in pursuit of what she's addicted to. She wants to get her fix.

All of this put together paints Alyssa as at least sex obssessed if not sex addicted, especially the amount of time she dedicates to it and her risktaking, reckless attitude, against justified worries of Baelon or maesters advice. Gyldayn could be exaggerating. Or he's just saying it how it was but makes it into a humorous, romantic tale. Of brother and sister that do nothing but fly on dragons and have sex. That's their entire marriage life. But the focus put on it really makes it look unusual. Jaehaerys and Alysanne had 13 children, but there are no "heartwarming" tales about how much time they spent in the bedroom.

Alyssa expressed a belief that she was made for giving birth, for procreation. She accepts her assigned role in life and finds as much enjoyment as she could in fulfilling it. There's nothing else. She was raised to do only this and the indoctrination worked too well. Alysanne wanted the couple to be like her own marriage and Alyssa emulates her by planning to have a bunch of kids, even though Alysanne was so much more to Jaehaerys - advisor, diplomat, lawmaker. Baelon even told Aemon that he leaves making law to him, because he prefers to make sons.

“I will leave the making of law to you, brother,” Prince Baelon declared, whilst drinking to Prince Aemon’s appointment. “I would sooner make sons.”

Apart from her environment and fulfilling expectations what could be the other causes of Alyssa's sexual behavior? It could be related to many mental health problems and we know Targaryens as a family have a predisposition to them. If she's addicted, it could be a response to personal trouble. A tomboy is forced to be a traditional wife, giving up her dreams. It could be a coping mechanism if she was feeling depression. Sex raises mood like alcohol. An addict wants to forget his troubles and just feel good. Alyssa's younger sisters, Saera and Viserra, also showed signs of addiction, both getting drunk when they were young teenagers. Saera at 12, Viserra at 15.

Alysanne was pregnant with Valerion and Gael around the time of both of Alyssa's pregnancies. I wonder what does it do to a pregnant woman to watch her mother be forced into risky pregnancies, having difficult labour and recovering for half a year after that? Did she feel like she was seeing her own future? That this will be her in 20 years? But it's too depressing to think about, so she had to ignore, repress, deny it. She was different, younger, stronger, she was in control of her body, Baelon wouldn't do that to her. This is her battle and she was made for this, she's a warrior. Her mother survived it 13 times, so Alyssa will too. Better stop thinking about it and go have sex or fly on a dragon.

Alyssa having depression may seem like a leap but as I said - she has a good reason. She's a tomboy turned housewife at 15. What are her real feelings on the marriage? Gyldayn never provides anything substantial. He says outright that "Prince Baelon had not ceased smiling since his marriage" and links it with all the sex he was having. Why didn't he say instead "Baelon and Alyssa were smiling", just Baelon? What about Alyssa? She's constantly dragonriding or having sex. Both of those activities are keeping her way from all other people except Baelon. It looks like she's isolating herself. When she interacts with others, she's bawdy and boasting about her sexlife (after wedding night, after claiming Meleys) or reaffirms her role in life as a childbearer (to Baelon and in front of the maesters after she gave birth to Aegon).

Alyssa's solitary activities after marriage and over the top enthusiasm for sex may be covering up her feelings of dissatisfaction with her life. Look at the similarity to her son Daemon, he had a reputation for his abundant sexlife and patronage of brothels when he was unhappily married to Rhea Royce. He couldn't even hold any position on a Small Council for long and Otto was undermining him and taking the spot as his brother's chief councilor. Daemon had plenty of reasons to be unhappy and dissatisfied with his life and that's when he was behaving promiscuously. Then it all disappeared after Rhea's death and him choosing a new wife for himself. It's likely Alyssa passed the predisposition to sex addiction to her son.

Other character acting similar to Alyssa in the series would be Robert Baratheon - a chief example of a depressed sex addict, but he was masking it by feasting and getting drunk all the time. Alyssa's main parallel, Cersei, became an alcoholic, which is just another type of addiction. Cersei also exhibited risky sexual behavior by having an affair with Jaime, having his children and everything that followed from that (like sex in the Broken Tower, her affair with Lancel).

Taking into account all of the above I'd say it looks like Alyssa developed a sex addiction and any type of addiction signifies deep personal trouble that one tries to forget/cope with.

Gyldayn portrays the marriage as happy, but the only one who was shown as happy was Baelon. Gyldayn sees that Alyssa liked sex, satisfied her husband's sexual needs all the time, accepted her role as a mother and gave birth to sons so he treats it like a successful marriage. But he doesn't care about what Alyssa felt, only Baelon.

Alyssa - the role model for Saera and Viserra

Alyssa resembles Cersei because of her "I'm not like the other girls" attitude. She wants to be in the boys' club with Aemon and Baelon and has nothing in common with her sisters. And she's said to avoid other girls' company. It's all rather strange. In a way she's like Alysanne, who was purposely deprived of female friends in her childhood by her mother, however in Alyssa's case it was a choice.

Despite Alyssa's distance she had a profound effect on both Saera and Viserra as their older sister. She was supposed to be their role model as a Targaryen princess. They were probably constantly compared to her and told that she's a good wife. If they want to be successful, they should be like Alyssa. Unfortunately for the younger girls, Alyssa is in fact a terrible role model.

Saera is the most similar to Alyssa out of all their sisters. This comparison is explicitly stated in the book, as according to her maesters Saera was:

as strong and quick and spirited as her sister Alyssa.

The similarities between the family's problem child and the parentally approved older sister are also in their behaviour, which Saera was probably copying off Alyssa. Saera even wanted to claim Balerion like Alyssa initially did before the dragonkeepers changed her mind. It's also interesting to note that:

Septon Barth tells us that Saera’s sisters all misliked her to various degrees.

That means Alyssa shared the common dislike for Saera despite keeping general distance from all her sisters and the 6 year age gap. What reason Alyssa would have to dislike Saera? I think the most possible reason was that Saera became Jaehaerys' favourite and could get anything she wanted, despite her general mayhem and misbehavior. Meanwhile, Alyssa's efforts to please him, first by being like the boys, then obediently marrying Baelon, didn't get her anything she wanted, apart from a dragon that she wasn't allowed to use for battle or for any other purpose than leisure flying. Jaehaerys was never the same after Saera's escape to Essos but there was no mention of his reaction to Alyssa's death. It's clear that Saera had his affection without trying, but Alyssa didn't, so Alyssa had a good reason to be jealous of Saera and dislike her.

Going in chronological order, the first similarity between Alyssa and Saera was their cruel and humiliating treatment of those who couldn't even defend themselves from them - their own siblings. Alyssa was cruel to her little brother Vaegon and humiliated him so badly that he completely gave up on learning the sword despite keeping up with it for a year, but no one ever mentions her actions as something bad. Vaegon was an unpopular, bookish and unhappy boy that wasn't good at traditional male activities like fighting, so Alyssa could bully him without any repercussions and even with a tacit permission from their father (reminds me of Sam Tarly situation). No wonder he lost confidence, closed off and took the first chance to leave the family that didn't love or protect him. No wonder he only visited when he was summoned and his letters to Alysanne were perfunctory.

Was Saera emulating Alyssa's cruelty? It's very possible. Saera was 6 and 7 years old when the two incidents of Alyssa bullying Vaegon happened. Saera might not have seen them (it's likely she did), but she definitely heard of them and saw how Alyssa was unpunished. It must have emboldened Saera's own cruel streak. Her first childhood victim was Daella who she kept scaring with her pranks (the prank with hiding bees in a chamberpot was definitely dangerous and cruel). Daella was an easy target as she was mentally disabled and delicate. Septon Barth noted Saera's jealousy of the attention Daella was getting from their mother. After Daella left, Saera started playing cruel and humiliating pranks on another mentally disabled person, the court fool Tom Turnip.

It's also worth noting that both Vaegon and Daella were in Jaehaerys' disfavour because they both failed to meet his expectations. Both were avoiding marriage in their own ways, Vaegon lacked martial talent and Daella's mental disability was the proof against the king's Targaryen supremacy propaganda. Jaehaerys was the driving force to send them away from their home, never to return. It seems that Alyssa was used by their father to teach Vaegon a lesson. Saera not only picked up on Jaehaerys' dislike for Daella, but also on his quiet approval of Alyssa's bullying of Vaegon. She knew it was allowed.

The next similarity between sisters was in their hypersexual behaviour. Saera was 8 years old when Alyssa got married and the tale of her wedding night spread. She must have heard some of Alyssa's boasting about sex, saying how much she loved it, or the often occuring loud sex sounds coming from her bedroom. It continued until Alyssa's death when Saera was 16, nearly 17. Saera's formative years were spent influenced by her sister's sex-obssessed example. Alyssa's behaviour was accepted by all, approved by their parents despite how unusual it was. It's no wonder Saera took a cue from her older sister and began her own sexual explorations as a teenager with her group of friends. She even sought out the older and more experienced Braxton Beesbury to be her Baelon substitute.

Like Alyssa, Saera also exhibited signs of sex addiction - risky sexual behavior, sex with multiple partners, sexually humiliating pranks on Tom Turnip (voyeuristic in nature - she wanted to see him naked, to see him having sex). We know she had an addictive personality as she became alcoholic when she was 12 years old.

Saera's scandalous sexual conduct was caught by her parents after Alyssa's death, in the same year. And she even used as one of her justifications that "Baelon used to kiss Alyssa all the time", proving that she took notice of their relationship and how sex-focused it was. She learned from them that a happy, successful marriage is based on having sex all the time. At the same time, the only other example she had was her parents, who were becoming distant from each other and stopped having sex (and their reasons for disagreeing were Daella's death and Jaehaerys forcing 2 risky pregnancies on Alysanne, which endagered her life). Aemon and Jocelyn lived on Dragonstone, so they couldn't serve as a more normal example of a married couple for Saera.

Viserra was also affected by Alyssa's bad example. She witnessed Alyssa's marriage from the age of 4 to 13 years old, so for most of her young life. According to Alysanne:

"She aims much higher, our Viserra. I have seen the way she preens and prances around Baelon. That is the husband she desires, and not for love of him. She wants to be the queen.”

So Alysanne started losing it because she thought that Viserra wanted to be the queen, while Aemon was the heir and married, so marrying Baelon would not make her a queen. Unless she suspected the sly Viserra to have a plan to get rid of Aemon and Rhaenys to get to the throne after marrying Baelon. However, the one who explicitly stated that she wanted to be a queen was Saera, not Viserra. Alysanne was confusing her daughters. Previously she had more accurate insights on her children. Maybe she was spending less time with them and focusing more on young Gael.

Alysanne statement has to be taken with a grain of salt, it's not entirely factual, but rather her opinion on Viserra. She can't allow Alyssa to be replaced in Baelon's heart, as she fashioned their marriage in the image of her own with Jaehaerys. She believes that Baelon and Alyssa are the true love story, so he can never remarry. Her solution to the danger of Viserra replacing Alyssa is to betroth her to the old lord Manderly. That way she'll stay far away from Baelon and Alyssa's memory will be preserved.

Viserra understandably protests the betrothal, but her parents are unyielding, so she decides to seduce Baelon by sneaking into his bed naked and drunk. The thing is, that behaviour wasn't Viserra's usual MO. She was known for playing with boys like puppies, manipulating them to do what she wanted and sending them on foolish quests. She wasn't a seductress. Then why did she take this straightforward approach with Baelon and just jumped into his bed?

“He married one sister, why not another?” Viserra told her closest friend, the empty-headed Beatrice Butterwell. “I am much prettier than Alyssa ever was, you saw her. She had a broken nose.”

This quote proves Viserra's interest in Baelon and also provides a lead to the reason for Viserra's actions. Based on what Viserra saw of Baelon's relationship with Alyssa, she concluded that Baelon only cares about sex and the only way to get his attention is to offer him her body. Viserra doesn't know how to interact with or romance her older brother. Alyssa spent most of her time with him by having sex, so that must be how it's done, right? It sounds like Viserra is unaware if there was anything other than sex between Alyssa and Baelon. She even thinks that he wouldn't care which sister he's having sex with.

It's important to note that Viserra is vain, but she is not stupid. She's described as sly and capable of manipulating people to do what she wants. A skilled manipulator has to be observant and notice things about people. And those are the conclusions she drew about Baelon and Alyssa's marriage which she observed for most of her life - that all he cared about was having sex with his sisterwife, that all a good sisterwife had to do was to be sexually available. It's possible that Viserra didn't understimate Baelon's actual loyalty to dead Alyssa, but only his sense of duty and honour. He didn't take advantage of her, even when she offered, but if his parents ordered him to marry her, he'd probably obey them like he always did.

Alyssa is seen as different and better then her younger sisters despite all the evidence to the contrary. The positive spin on her qualities is like the opposite of the negative spin on her sisters' characters. Basically, she gets special treatment (from both her parents and Gyldayn) because she married Baelon and fulfills the traditional role of wife and mother. On the other hand, when her sisters follow her example or want the same things she had, they are villainized. Saera is called "an evil child" by her septa, then "a whore" by her father and heavily punished, forced to watch her father kill her lover, Viserra is labeled as ambitious and manipulative by her mother.

Maegelle, Alyssa and the incestous family planning

Maegelle seems to most people like the sister that had the least to do with Alyssa, had a good life as a septa and was lucky to escape her sisters' various tragic fates. However, she was heavily impacted as a child by Alyssa and also their parents' plans for both of them.

Alyssa broke the chain of younger siblings trailing after the elder. Baelon followed Aemon, Alyssa followed Baelon, but when Maegelle tried to follow her, Alyssa was completely against it. Probably she just didn't want Maegelle joining the dynamic Alyssa had with their brothers, getting close to them and taking away their affection.

Maegelle joined the Faith of the Seven in 73 AC when she was 10 years old. It can be argued that Alysanne was always going to send one daughter to Oldtown, but did it have to be Maegelle and not Daella, Saera or Viserra at a later date? Maegelle could have married Vaegon or someone else, so why didn't she?

Jaehaerys' idea for arranging marriages was pretty simple, he wanted to pair them up by the order of birth - eldest son to eldest daughter, second son to second daughter and so on. It was Alysanne who had to intervene and tell him who liked who, he had no clue about the relationships between his children. According to Jaehaerys' matchmaking plan, Aemon would have married Alyssa, so logically I assume next would be Baelon and Maegelle, Vaegon and Daella. Alysanne must have seen problems with that, like the age gaps - 6 years between Aemon and Alyssa, 5 years between Baelon and Maegelle. She also made Jocelyn sit next to Aemon during a feast for his investiture as Prince of Dragonstone when he was 7 and saw that the two got along really well. So that is one example of Alysanne's successful matchmaking and arranged well in advance before the betrothals were made.

It's likely that Maegelle's future was sacrificed to appease the Faith so they wouldn't oppose another full sibling marriage - between Alyssa and Baelon. And that's why when the betrothals were made in 68 AC, Jaehaerys told Vaegon that he will marry Daella, not Maegelle who was older.

I wonder if Maegelle became pious because she was being prepared for her life as a septa or it had something to do with Alyssa rejecting her company. Maybe the religion provided Maegelle with some comfort and friendship. Maybe she didn't want to marry her brother or anyone at all and becoming a septa allowed her to avoid that fate. The opposite was also possible, what if Maegelle only wanted to please and imitate Alysanne, who was pious herself, but she didn't actually want to become a septa? Maybe she became pious because she was praying for something specific, had some wish? The point is we will never know what Maegelle wanted to do with her life as she was never asked and the choice was taken from her before she was grown enough to make it. And the same thing happened sooner or later to all the other siblings. In any case, Alysanne removed Maegelle from the marriage plans so that Alyssa could marry Baelon.

Was it fair to Maegelle to decide her whole life for her when she was so young? Was it fair to do the same to Alyssa or any of their other siblings? The moral of the story of all the children of Jaehaerys and Alysanne is simple - that parents controlling their children's future and deciding their whole lives and careers when they are 5-10 years old is unfair, awful and often has tragic consequences. Maegelle is as much of a victim here, she was said to be bright and studious as a child, she had intelligence and potential for greatness that was squandered by sending her to be a septa. Funny that Alysanne didn't notice that Maegelle, not Alyssa, was the most like her out of all her daughters. Maegelle with her gentleness, caring for the weak like Daella, charitableness could have been the next Good Queen.

Maegelle is regarded as the only sister that got away from tragedies of her siblings. But she was made to join a religious order as a child. She never had a choice or an opportunity to be anything different. When she died, nursing patients with greyscale, she was only 34 years old. She didn't even reach middle age. She lived only 10 years longer than Alyssa. Ironically, Saera could have outlived them all, as the last time she was mentioned, she was alive at age 34 during the Great Council of 101 AC.

Alyssa despite being portrayed as accepting of her duty and even enthusiastic about having more children, isn't the happy exception, the successful daughter. She has to give up on any of her previous dreams and aspirations, she has power - a dragon, that she's not allowed to use in battle as equal with her brothers. Despite having the role of Rhaenys she can't fight alongside her brothers, she has to stay behind and be protected by them. She's reduced to being just a wife and mother and it seems to me that her enthusiasm about sex is at best her simply finding pleasure and control in what little she's allowed to have and do. She makes the best of what she has because what else she can do? It can be even argued that she showed signs of sex addiction and was hiding her dissatisfaction and depression. She dies at 24 from complications after childbirth.

Both Alyssa and Maegelle were obedient daughters who spent their lives fulfilling their parents' expectations, following the paths they didn't choose, and died as a result without even reaching middle age. They are both tragic, but their parents, Gyldayn - and through them the book readers - don't realize it.

After Alyssa's death

After Alyssa's death her shadow is cast over her younger sisters. Saera and Viserra are condemned for pursuing what was once granted to Alyssa. They can't have a brother, a lover or a dragon. They aren't allowed to fill her shoes. Alysanne projects herself on Alyssa and won't let a younger and prettier queen take her place. You know she just hates the idea of Jaehaerys marrying a new woman after she's gone, because it would disprove their eternal love, so Baelon has to be forever Alyssa's.

Alyssa isn't just a distant elder sister and bad role model for her younger sisters (who get punished for acting like she did - that's a big parenting failure of Jaehaerys and Alysanne). Her ghost deeply affects Baelon who isn't allowed to stop mourning her for the rest of his life. It's written like a proof of their great love that he couldn't move on, but what if he eventually wanted to? Baelon couldn't find happiness again after Alyssa because that would disappoint Alysanne and he was too dutiful to her. So he was stuck in this loyalty to a dead wife for 16 years (85 AC to 101 AC).

Though shattered by his loss, Baelon took solace in the two strong sons that she had left him, Viserys and Daemon, and never ceased to honor the memory of his sweet lady with the broken nose and mismatched eyes.

I find it interesting that only Baelon's reaction to her death was mentioned. Compared to the other siblings dying, usually we are told Alysanne's and/or Jaehaerys' reaction. They probably mourned her, but didn't see her death at 24 due to complications after childbirth as overly tragic. They probably thought that these things happen and there was nothing they could do. They don't realize that expecting Alyssa to keep having more children was what killed her. She had two sons, but to carry on the family tradition of sibling marriages, they needed her to have a daughter. Baelon wanted a girl, a sisterwife for his son, to continue the cycle in the next generation.

Gyldayn's description of Baelon's reaction to Alyssa's death seems overly sugary. He's trying to make their relationship look as romantic as possible, but calling her "sweet lady with the broken nose and mismatched eyes" ruins the effect. In what way Alyssa was ever sweet to anyone? Calling attention to her broken nose and mismatched eyes is rather weird, as they are physical imperfections. It's causing the whiplash, a dissonance between what was told and shown. How much of this statement by Gyldayn is even true?

Conclusions

Alyssa Targaryen is a complex character beyond being a wife and mother. She's distant from most of her siblings but has a significant influence and impact on their lives. The only one she's close to is Baelon and she tries to compete with him and Aemon. She bullied Vaegon, furiously rejected Maegelle, scared Daella and set a bad example of sexual behavior to Saera and Viserra. What's more, Alyssa's character isn't good or nice or even responsible. She's cruel, bawdy and competitive, avoids company of other girls and her sisters, because she thinks she's different (better) than them. She dismisses the danger of childbirth and unnecessarily risks her newborn sons when she takes them dragonriding.

Alyssa is deeply indoctrinated by her parents to believe in Targaryen supremacy ideology and accepts her role as a sisterwife and childbearer. She follows the rules set by them and is rewarded and praised for it. Despite that, she's likely depressed and coping by having sex or dragonriding. She exhibits signs of having a sex addiction, which is likely because her younger sisters and son Daemon also had addictive personalities. Her marriage life consists of having sex for most of the time and only her husband is mentioned to be happy with it. She's not allowed to express and pursue her own goals and the cases of her bullying Vaegon seem to be her lashing out because he rebelled against his parents' plans for his future.

Many existing similaries prove that the Alyssa is the answer to the question: "what if Cersei was a Targaryen?" She also resembles queen Rhaenys in her dynamic with her older brothers.

Alyssa's death isn't seen as tragic, despite her dying at 24 after giving birth to a third son they didn't need. She died young and for unnecessary reason. Her death was in vain as the child didn't live through infancy. The only one who was said to be mourning her was Baelon, who became a martyr of their great, lost love, and a sad widower for the rest of his life to appease Alysanne, who saw his marriage to Alyssa as a mirror to her own marriage with Jaehaerys.

Alyssa is not the one good, unproblematic daughter that Jaehaerys and Alysanne raised. Their bad parenting affected her as well as every single one of her siblings, even Maegelle, whose future was sacrificed so that Alyssa and Baelon could marry.

Jaehaerys and Alysanne weren't good parents to any of their children, including Alyssa. They decided their children's future paths when they were still too young and didn't finish growing, and then expected them to follow those plans. In result, most of the siblings died, either due to obeying their parent's will (Daenerys, Aemon, Alyssa, Maegelle, Daella) or rebelling against it (Viserra, Gael). The 3 remaining ones (Baelon, Vaegon, Saera) didn't die, but endured much suffering and hardship in their lives as an effect of their parents' control over them.

I worked on this for a week, so I hope it's interesting and at least provides some food for thought. I'm open to questions and more discussion, so you can send asks. I might write more analysis on Jaehaerys and Alysanne's bad parenting method and maybe some other topics related to their reign.

#alyssa targaryen #fire and blood #asoiaf theories #asoiaf meta #maegelle targaryen #vaegon targaryen #baelon the brave #baelon targaryen #king jaehaerys #jaehaerys the conciliator #alysanne targaryen #saera targaryen #viserra targaryen #my meta #my thoughts

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