House of Memories

If you're a lover, you should know
The lonely moments just get lonelier
The longer you're in love

The first time she returned, she saw it as a blessing. A wonderful, divine second chance.

She doesn't think it that way anymore.

She doesn't like remembering. She doesn't like watching the monster arriving at her coming of age ceremony. She doesn't like time turning against her.

So when she dies by the second son's blade again and the clock begins to tick, she doesn't fight back.

She opens her eyes to the maid poking holes into her arms again. She grabs the needle from her and drives it into her skull.

When she realizes what she has done, warm blood dripping from her hands, she laughs.

She laughs and laughs and laughs until someone walks in and screams, bringing the Eckart sons to come check.

She doesn't remember what happened after, but she wakes up again to the maid poking her arms again.

That's just the start.

I don't want to be afraid

She's good at killing, she discovers. The fact thrills her.

She takes her time with killing the staff. First the maid, then the chef, the butler took a while to get right, but she got it eventually.

Her next target is the knight who pushed her off the duchy walls, but curiously enough, he's already dead by the time she gets to him.

She's disappointed, and tells her escort as much.

He's as still as an ice statue. "I don't understand, my lady."

Iklies Khan Delmaine. A former prince with a grudge against the empire that ravaged and ransacked his home.

She smiles a little too wide. "I hope you broke his legs at least!"

—

A sorry excuse of a knight beats Iklies for breaking a wooden sword.

He's dead the same night, strangled to death. The bruises on his neck signs the murderer to be on the smaller side.

"Just returning a favor," she says innocently when the news gets out, and her escort watches her much more closely after that.

There is something wrong with her.

He sees the red under her nails, the way she moves without sound, the thin curtains that do little to hide the insanity in her eyes to anyone who cares enough to pay attention.

But he gets hit again, and she kills again.

He steps ever so closer to the volatile flames.

The deeper that I go
It takes my breath away

The flames don't burn.

Is this taboo?

She's dressed in crimson red, as if she's wearing the blood of everyone she's killed and flaunting it to all the clueless people around them.

He holds his hand out for her. Without much hesitation, she takes it and they're dancing through the ballroom with every pair of eyes on them.

He spins her as he takes a glance at all the nobles present. He'll kill all of them. Slowly. And he'll burn their precious empire right before their eyes.

He looks away when her hair, glinting in under the chandelier, catches his eyes. It's the color of the sky at sunset, and her eyes are a dangerous green as it begins to cloud with bloodlust.

He follows her gaze and sees the first son at the end of it, glaring darkly at them. What a sight they must've looked, a deranged woman and a slave knight dancing together.

He hides a sneer, and suddenly takes her into a dip, delighting how red the bastard's face becomes in anger.

She knows what he's doing, and she plays along, pulling herself closer and placing her hand just a smidge more intimately on his chest. Her hand is cold but feels like fire on his skin through his clothes.

She has a smile on her face that comes before either a kiss or a slit throat.

Something begins to burn.

Soft hearts, electric souls
Heart to heart and eyes to eyes 

They don't speak a word of affection to each other.

Instead, she drapes herself over his shoulders and complains about her chapped hands.

Sometimes he grabs her wrists too tight and looks ready to kill her. She stares straight into his eyes with a wrong-looking smile fixed on her face.

He never really gets around to killing her.

Instead, he pulls her in and rests his chin on her head as she laughs and giggles at random intervals. Sometimes she screams.

Sometimes she cries.

He still holds her.

Is this taboo?

It's when he kills the first son in front of her and presents her his corpse that she grabs his face and drags it down to meet her lips and kisses him until they can't breathe.

His hand wraps around her waist, and the other, drenched with blood, is on the back of her head. It gets in her hair.

The taste of metal fills their mouths. He doesn't let go. Neither does she.

Baby, we built this house on memories
Take my picture now, shake it 'til you see it

They set fire to the duchy.

She kills anyone who tries to escape, and he drags out the rest of the Eckarts.

They are horrified. They plead. They curse.

He smiles—not like her—calmly.

And when your fantasies become your legacy
Promise me a place

Have they forgotten that even a mad dog knows how to bite?

In your house of memories

—

You remember one (1) dabi x villain oc animation and then you end up with a whole ass fic that's not even about them

.

I had to abandon what little I had left of my morals and values to write this