#but still has psychopathic tendencies | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rrxnjun · 9 months

Text

where do broken hearts go? [lmk]

you know what they say about past lovers that can remain just as friends - either they're still in love with each other, or they never were in the first place.

pairing: mark lee x fem! reader

genre: exes to lovers. angst, fluff.

wc: 12k (11.926)

warnings: mention of sex, weed and alcohol, heartbreak, swearing, park jihoon of treasure is one sassy bitch and also accidentally somehow the main character of this fanfic plz dont @ me, inconsistent writing style bc i took 3 months and 3 depressive episodes to finish this fic

playlist: where do broken hearts go - one direction / too good to say goodbye - bruno mars / everytime - ariana grande / closer - waterparks / tornado warnings - sabrina carpenter / survive the night - the boyz

a/n: hey do some of you still remember me..... AHAHA tell a friend to tell a friend rrxnjun is BACK! this fic isn't the ideal vision i had in my mind but we are working on not being so hard on ourselves with our writing so! here we are. i still kind of like it :,)

When you walk up to your best friend’s apartment one day with a tub of ice cream under your arm and the biggest pout on your face, Park Jihoon makes a complete list of things you should do to get over your failed relationship with Mark Lee. And while you think your dear friend has some psychopathic tendencies sometimes, you’d say the list is actually pretty reasonable of him.

There’s something about the five simple steps that makes you wonder if it’s really as easy as Jihoon makes it sound. And while you doubt it– because the pinging pain in your heart makes it seem like the heartbreak is truly going to kill you in a few minutes if you don’t do something about it– you give it a try, because come on… you’d do anything to not feel like this ever again.

Step one – cry it out.

“He was a cunt anyway,” Jihoon mutters as he steps into the living room with two spoons in his hands, throwing one of them to you– while almost managing to hit you in the middle of your forehead in the process, adding a concussion to the mix of problems you have going on right now– and you find yourself furrowing your brows at his hateful comment.

“Why’d you say that?”

“Well, as your best friend, I’m supposed to be on your side, no?” he says as he takes a seat on the sofa next to you, watching as you wrap one of the thick blankets you got for the male around your figure– you bought it mainly for yourself, because his apartment is cold as a freezer and you knew he wouldn’t buy one for you to use in the first place– and shrugs. “Besides, he broke your heart, and any male who does that is a cunt in my eyes.”

“I broke up with him,” you mourn, “so I broke my own heart,” you snicker, despair fully filling you up from the inside– fitting everywhere into your lungs and choking you up from how bad you truly feel. Now, this isn’t your first breakup– you’ve had your fair share of boyfriends in high school (in your baddie era, as Jihoon called it), but Choi Yeonjun from Maths class and Jung Woonyoung, the guy you dated for a total of 2 months over the summer break before he moved away, weren’t exactly boys you found yourself falling in love with. Sure, you liked them, you kissed them and went on dates with them– hell, you even hooked up with Yeonjun once before you realized the relationship truly wasn’t for you– but no one managed to cave into your heart just as much as Mark Lee, your first college boyfriend did.

“But you sure had a reason for it, come on!” Jihoon huffs, taking the tub of ice cream from your hands and opening it for you, since you’ve gotten quite weak from the lack of sleep and nutritions ever since the break up, hands clammy and not cooperating. “You don’t just break up with someone to break your own heart. He did that, that’s why you said goodbye to him,” he says before sitting the enormous tub of ice cream between your two bodies, nudging you to dig into the frozen delicacy.

“Yeah, but–”

“No buts, young lady. We are here to make you forget you ever even dated Mark Lee, so open up, eat the ice cream and focus your attention on Titanic so you can finally cry it out,” he says, and by the tone of his voice, you’d think he’s angry with you. Jihoon has this aura around him that makes you think he’s always at least a little annoyed at everything– but he told you to not mind it and that it’s just his sassy bitch attitude.

He does have a point, though. You broke up with Mark because he broke your heart first– there was no other reason for it. If it was something minor, something small, you were sure you could work on it. You have, numerous of times before, brought up something and had a mature conversation about it– something you always so admired about Mark, being so cautious and understanding when navigating problems in the relationship– but when you bring up the same thing over and over, and it never gets fixed despite him telling you he’ll try harder next time, you think you’re allowed to feel a little heartbroken at his nonexistent efforts. And that’s exactly why you decided to quit the relationship– after a while, you felt like you were putting in more effort than he was, effectively making you feel like he’s not even that interested in dating you in the first place.

First, he just told you he was forgetful. He forgot he promised to pick you up from class one day– and you said that it’s okay, he is busy, after all– and it was the first time it happened, so you didn’t really mind that much, truly. Then, he forgot about the date you scheduled– but it was fine, because you didn’t have reservations anyway, you could change the day to any other day of the week, after all. He kept forgetting the stuff you told him in between the conversations you shared– and it was small things, you understand, but sometimes, you wondered if he was ever really listening to you at all.

Forgetful soon turns not interested in your eyes, and when he doesn’t call you in the evening like he promised he would, when he doesn’t show up to the party you invited him to, because he forgot it was that day, you’re one step closer to calling it quits, because each and every one of these situations sends a sharp pain into your stomach. The last straw was just last week, though– and realistically, it was an important day, as much that you thought the day is somehow gonna fix everything, but the truth is somewhere completely else as Mark Lee forgets about your one year anniversary and never shows up at your doorstep for the dinner you prepared for the two of you like he promised he would.

And it doesn’t click in him two days after either– you don’t even get a text. He got so forgetful over time that he forgot about you completely, and that’s when you took an uber to his place and broke up with him for good.

And even though the breakup was the most painful thing you’ve ever felt yourself go through, Jihoon is right– you’re not the one that broke your own heart. Mark Lee did that for you many times before, and this was just the breaking point.

“Fucking hell, you bought cookies and cream again?” Jihoon huffs when he takes another spoonful of the ice cream into his mouth, eyebrows furrowing at the sweet taste. Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you wipe your left cheek as you hum, immune to his nagging by now.

“You know I hate cookies and cream!”

“You know, Hoon, I bought this for myself. When you’re the one that’s heartbroken, we’ll share your favorite ice cream flavor instead,” you mumble, munching on the coldness on your tongue, sniffling a little when your eyes avert to the TV screen.

And after that, the teasing from your best friend’s side stops. Maybe it’s just because he hates to see you cry– and he rarely gets the chance, if you’re being honest, since you’re pretty good at handling your emotions– but you secretly know that it’s because when he looks back at the TV screen in front of the two of you, the sad part of the movie hasn’t even started yet and the tears are not the result of the movie, but of your own thoughts instead.

Step two – give him back all of his stuff and the stuff he’s given you that reminds you of him. Demand that he does the same.

Now, step two was a thing most couples do when they break up. Realistically, it makes sense– you wouldn’t want stuff that’s not yours just laying around, and also, it’s just bound to remind you of the person you lost. Naturally, you’d want to return it.

“Why does he have to return my things as well?” you mutter under your breath as Jihoon helps you fold all Mark’s hoodies into a cardboard box, alongside with wrapping the little things your ex boyfriend made out of ceramic for you in tissue paper like you asked him to– even though he complained and said that it shouldn’t matter to you if they break, because you are the heartbroken one– but you held those little things too close to your heart to let them get damaged in the first place.

“Because that’s how it works,” Jihoon hums, watching as you throw another one of Mark’s shirts onto the top of his head, shielding his vision. “What, you don’t want your stuff back?”

“I mean…” you mumble, deeply considering of the fact that the thought of getting your stuff back didn’t even cross your mind until now, before you realize your favorite pair of socks is thrown somewhere in Mark’s drawers– the blue ones with peaches on them– and you suddenly have the revelation that while you don’t necessarily need the stuff back, you’d love to wear those socks again. “I guess…” you note as you walk over to Jihoon and take a glance into the full cardboard box, looking over the stuff and chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“It’s like witchcraft, y’know,” Jihoon points out, looking at you with fierce eyes mirroring the stupid idea that just flashed through his brain, “if you don’t exchange the things, a piece of you is still kept at his apartment and you won’t be able to move on.”

And again, Park Jihoon does have psychopathic tendencies, but he may be onto something here. So you listen to him as you nod along and close the cardboard box, ready to drive over to Mark Lee’s apartment and drop off the things you’ve collected from him for the past year. The box includes all of the clothes messily scattered across your drawers and your closet, the picture frame of you two together that you always had on your night stand, the ceramic bowls and a little tiger sculpture he made for you when he took a pottery class with his friend Renjun, and the lost guitar pics you found under your bed and at the very top of your bookshelf from when he used to bring his guitar along and play you songs on rainy afternoons. The only things of Mark’s that you kept were the love letter he gave you for your birthday and the USB with his cover of Justin Bieber’s Off my face on it that he shyly gifted to you on one of your dates; but you would never tell Jihoon that in fear of him getting rid of those most precious memories for you.

It’s good to let go, but you don’t think you’re wrong for wanting to keep something to remind you of the good times. The times you still felt loved by Mark.

“Off we go,” you say, standing up and bringing the box towards your front door, your best friend at your feet. He promised to drive you to Mark’s place– you think he’s worried about you meeting your ex-boyfriend face to face for the first time since the break up, but he said it’s because you’re too broke to Uber all the time, efficiently throwing all the considerate thoughts you were accrediting him out the window– and after a few minutes of the drive, you find yourself standing on the doorstep of Mark Lee's apartment.

Taking a deep breath in and out, almost chickening out with the flood of thoughts and excuses you could say to Jihoon when you come back to his car with the box still in your hands– sayings like “he wasn’t home” or “he didn’t want those back”, the latter stupider than the first– you decide to face your problems head-on and finally knock on the mahogany door, waiting for Mark to answer. And he does– of course he does, because he’s always home, and as his ex-girlfriend of one year, you're painfully aware of the fact– but when that happens, you feel your heart falling all the way down to your stomach, crushing you and suddenly making it hard for you to breathe.

“Um… hi,” he greets you, voice a little groggy, as if he hasn’t spoken in a while– and when you meet his eyes, the deep chocolate orbs you always found yourself admiring and writing silent odes to in your head, you quickly glance away in fear of staring into them for too long and making decisions you wouldn’t like to make.

“Hi,” you awkwardly greet back, clearing your throat and moving a little in your place, shifting the weight from one foot to the other. You're surprised you're able to keep up with the conversation, thoughts running in your brain faster than you can comprehend them, heartbeat ringing in your ears from the unexpected anxiety. Maybe Jihoon was right and you should've taken a shot before coming here– at least you'd have more courage and social skills clearly needed for this kind of interaction. “I… brought you back your things,” you say, finally looking up at the male and chewing on your lips, letting out an awkward, tense laugh when he stares at you with an empty look, “figured you’d want them back,” you add, watching as the male opens his mouth and closes it in what seems to be shock before he presses his lips tightly together and nods at you.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he watches you clumsily hold up the cardboard box to him, ready to leave his stuff there with him and escape as fast as you can, not really minding how you'll get back to Jihoon's car– if jumping down the window of the entrance hall is the fastest option, you're ready to get to it. The truth is, everything is starting to get a little too hard to bear– his familiar scent filling your nose, the hoodie he wore to your first date enveloping his figure, his messy hair reminding you of the many times you brushed your fingers through it in attempts to smooth it down. It’s only been two weeks since you last saw him, but it was starting to feel as if you forgot about him already and were now relearning all the things you once fell in love with again, looking at him in the same light, yet noticing him and all the small details a little bit differently. “Thanks, I… I actually, uh… I have your stuff here too, so if you want it back I’ll– I can just–”

“Y-yeah,” you nod, almost a little too eagerly, “that would be… cool,” you say, trying hard to ignore the fact that he had your stuff packed too, intending to give it to you, and the crashing reality that comes with it, telling you he was prepared to do this before you were and how it’s making you feel kind of shitty.

Mark moves further into the apartment, the sound of him dropping the box to the floor filling your ears before he’s back at the door in no time, a similar cardboard box in his hands that he offers to you with a tense smile on his face. “Wanted to bring it around so I had an excuse to see you, but you, uh… beat me to it, I guess…”

Looking at him as you take the box out of his hands, gaze as if to tell him not to say such words to you when you’re still so fragile to his effect, you only nod and mutter out a simple “Thanks,” before you turn on your heel and intend to take the stairs back down.

“I’ll… see you around, then?” Mark calls after you as you take the first step out– something about it making you feel like it’s the first step out of his life, in a way– and you only nod, because one, you truly don’t know how else to reply to this question, and two, you really, really don’t know if you’ll ever see him again, but you can't bring yourself to say it to his face. Somehow, it would feel like torture to admit it– and you're not prepared for that reality just yet.

Rushing outside and getting into Jihoon's car, you almost feel like you’re on the verge of breaking, and when the male asks you how it went as he’s reversing out of the parking lot, you only bid him a one-word reply before you look through the box on your way home, too impatient to stay back from the memories.

And Jihoon didn’t really think this one through, because the fact that you gave Mark back the things that reminded you of him meant that he did the same, and now all the things you brought along to Mark’s apartment were in the cardboard box, all stained with countless memories and feelings attached to each and every single thing. The artwork you made for him, the little heart-shaped keychain you gave him for his birthday, the plant you gave him that was now long dead and dried out– those were once your stuff, but all in this world with the intention of love being sent out through them to your now ex-lover, and the fact that they’re in your possession again instead of his is not making letting go of Mark any easier.

And maybe Mark was right and he truly was forgetful, because as you rummage through the contains of the box, while you find out your favorite blue socks are nowhere to be seen, surely still buried somewhere in the drawers of his closet, obliterated out of his memory, there’s a gray hoodie sitting at the bottom and it’s surely not yours– it’s his and it was always your favorite, and you always used to wear it at his place when you got cold or when you just really wanted to smell his cologne, and you suddenly don't know if it's presence in the box slipped his mind or if he truly left it there on purpose.

Couldn’t he forget about that too?

Step three – block his number.

The third step comes into place after you accidentally slip out to Jihoon about the phone call you get on a Friday night– more like two hours into Saturday already– and now, most of all, you must admit that your best friend might be right about his advice.

Your phone starts ringing at 2:11 AM, and while you weren’t sleeping– you’ve been having some trouble with dozing off without being overbeared with thoughts lately– the name flashing on your screen shocks you for more reasons than one.

Mark Lee calls you, three weeks after your breakup, in the middle of the night. You haven’t spoken since the time he gave you back your stuff, and even though you’ve done quite a bit of stalking on his social media, you have no news of him or his whereabouts. Naturally, a call from him in the middle of the night startles you and shakes you to the core. He has no reason to call you, so your brain does the math and concludes there must be an emergency– and god knows that even after being hurt by him, you could never ignore him and leave him hanging in a state of need.

So you pick up– with shaky hands and a raging heartbeat, expecting the worst. Listening to the other side of the line, you take a deep breath in and out, bracing yourself for the impact of the words you’re going to hear. The voice on the other side is laced with haziness and his tone is almost a little tired– worn out, even– when he finally greets you from wherever he is.

“Hi,” Mark says, and for a second, your heartbeat steadies itself and the world stops spinning– he sounds okay, and for a moment, you’re grateful to hear his voice.

Humming, as if to collect your thoughts, you clear your throat before you offer him an answer. “Hello,” you greet, “what’s- what’s up?”

“Just wanted to hear your voice,” he says, almost a little abruptly to your question. He doesn't overthink his answer and he doesn't give himself time to think if it's a good idea or not– he just blurts it out and now it's your problem to deal with, when it's there, out in the open. Your palms get sweaty and you start to lose feeling in your fingertips, making you take a few seconds to yourself to process the situation before you decide to finally answer to the strange sentence.

“It’s late, Mark,” you mumble, and you involuntarily wonder if the sentence doesn’t have double meaning– it's too late for anyone to call at this hour, and at the same time, it’s been weeks since your ex boyfriend lost the privilege of listening to your voice when he can’t sleep in the middle of the night whenever he feels like it– and it’s now too late to do anything about it or make it any easier to deal with.

“Shit, sorry,” he chuckles to himself, and you suddenly recognise the laziness in his voice to be the effect of his and his best friend Hyuck’s Friday endeavors; the sweet coating of his voice being the effect of none other than the momentary bliss that comes with the relaxation of his body and mind when he's high. “Didn’t realize,” he concludes, making you shake your head at him in disbelief– not really mattering that he can’t see you in the act.

“‘s okay,” you mumble– and in your perfect reality, you hang up the phone now. In your perfect reality, you connect it to your charger and close your eyes, calling it a night. You fall asleep with no thoughts rummaging through your brain and wake up in the morning to a new sunny day, ready to take on the responsibilities of what’s to come, having productive days ended with smiles and a hot dinner you make for yourself just because you feel like it. In your perfect reality, you protect your own heart. This is not your perfect reality, though– and that’s why you stay on the line, listening to Mark ramble on the other side of the phone, intoxicated and slightly out of it. You wonder if he’ll remember calling you when he wakes up tomorrow. You wonder if he’ll regret it, or if he’ll just shrug his shoulders at the fact and go on with his day, not really paying you much thought when he’s sober.

“I was with Hyuck just now,” he says, and you hear the rustling of his sheets on the other side of the line, making you wonder if he’s washed up and ready for bed, “and– and I remembered how we all used to hang out together, y’know… you with us all– you always clicked with my friends and it was so cool and stuff… and I realized, right, they’re not as funny when you’re not around… but anyways… Jeno’s girlfriend asked about you, ‘cause she didn’t know…and telling her felt so silly, ‘cause they all kept looking at me and I knew they were pitying me, but it was my fault in the first place–”

“Mark–”

“No, it’s true. And it’s cool, I don’t– I don’t blame you, or anything. I just… I dunno, I guess it got me wondering…”

The line goes silent on the other side, and you settle into your own bed, giving him time to continue. When he doesn’t say anything for a long time, you wonder if he’s fallen asleep.

“Mark?”

“Hm?”

“You still there?”

“Yeah. How was your day?” he asks, tone of voice casual as ever, as if he’s forgotten about all the words he’s told you up until now– as if it’s not 2 AM and both of your hearts aren’t breaking at the sound of each other’s voice on the other side of the line.

“It… it was okay, I guess,” you say nonetheless, too hopeless to find a way to end the conversation before he does.

“That’s good to hear,” he says, sighing, “that’s… awesome. You still taking those yoga classes on Mondays?” he asks, and you snicker to yourself– because what kind of question even is that? Who asks that on a late night call, when there are more important things you two need to talk about?

“Yeah,” you lie, still. You haven’t been since the breakup.

“That’s great. Wouldn’t want you to… y’know,” he laughs to himself, “be too sad over this… ‘t was for the better, after all.”

You hear yourself hum– the noise way more stable than your actual words ever could be– and you find yourself feeling silly in the conversation, lying to your ex boyfriend through your teeth; because at the end of the day, you don’t want him to worry about you– because it seems to be the case that he is. And it’s stupid, because he hurt you and you shouldn’t care, maybe you should’ve even show him that you’re heartbroken and that he is the reason behind your pain and the way your life is falling apart, bit by bit, but you don’t find it in you to be so cold and heartless. At the end of the day, you still care about Mark and there’s nothing you could do about it. Turns out that breaking up with him doesn’t magically make the feelings go away– and you knew that, but now you have proof.

“What were you saying before, by the way? You… trailed off at the end,” you say, reminding him of his previous words.

“Oh, that,” he snickers into the microphone again, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he twists and turns in the sheets, “don’t worry about it. It was selfish of me.”

It was selfish of him to call in the first place. But you won’t tell him that.

“What was it?”

“It’s just… I was wondering if I lost you forever, y’know… if there was a chance we could ever…” he trails off again, but this time, you don’t bug him to complete it. You’re not stupid– you know the implication of his words. You’ve known him for a long time, after all– maybe you should’ve predicted this when you picked up the call.

“I mean…” you hum, “you didn’t lose me completely, if that’s– if that’s what’s keeping you up at night. We’re still friends, aren’t we?” you say, and in the corner of your brain, you can’t even believe the words yourself– but if it was selfish of him to call, you think it’s okay for you to selfishly fill both of you with empty promises, just for the sake of not breaking your heart even further.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, “that’s– …I’m glad.”

The line’s silent after that, and you wonder if you two have used up the list of words to say to each other this time, if there’s truly no other answer at the end of this conversation. When the situation gets too much for you to bear, the heaviness finally settling on your shoulders and your chest, you finally find the courage to sniffle out a quiet goodbye.

“Good night, Mark.”

“G’night,” he drags out, mind still cloudy. “Love you,” spills out from his tongue, like a bad habit.

He ends the call before you get to say it back. Maybe that’s for the better.

And the truth is, you should’ve really listened to Park Jihoon and blocked Mark’s number after this encounter. But you didn’t– you’re too weak for Mark’s sweet words, finding yourself still hanging on to his saccharine voice and the muffled ramble he has reserved for you only every time he gets high and loses all self-control before calling you on Friday nights selfishly demanding your attention, somehow falling for him like a teenager over and over again despite promising yourself you're gonna move on for real now.

Step four – date someone new.

“So…” Jihoon starts one day, eyes glued to your skull like laser beams, the tone of his voice so incomprehensible you think he’s going to scold you for the actions of your previous days– even though you haven't told him about the midnight calls with Mark and so if he's not going through your phone, he has no way of knowing. Tense and nervous, still, knowing that the impact of his words could either heal you or cut you open like a knife– damn him for always being so brutally honest, no matter how soft his heart is for you– you smile at him with tight lips, crossing your arms on your chest in defense.

“So…?”

A nervous laugh almost escapes your throat. If Jihoon wasn’t suspicious of you before, he surely is now– or he just finds you strange by the way he furrows his brows at you and scans you up and down, taking a second for himself before he sighs and seemingly decides to drop the weird way you’re acting right now, shaking his head and focusing on the task at hand.

“I was thinking… my friend asked about you,” he says, nonchalantly looking down onto his hands and taking the dirt out from behind his nails, as if it’s not a big deal and he doesn’t even care that much. “Choi Hyunsuk from Biology, you know him– shabby haircut, kinda short, failed the class so he has to retake it this year…?”

“I think you’re forgetting the fact that the two of us have completely different majors, Hoonie,” you sweetly smile at him with irony, making him roll his eyes with a sigh before he tries again.

“The guy who ripped his pants at Xiao Dejun’s party last year?”

“Oh, that one! You should’ve said that earlier, of course I remember Choi Hyunsuk from your Biology class,” you nod hurriedly, the gears finally clicking in your brain.

“As if I wasn’t talking about him for the last few minutes–”

“Okay, and what about him?” you cut him off, already tired of his annoying tangent.

“I said he asked about you.”

“I heard that already,” you nod, looking at him with expecting eyes. “And?”

Jihoon stares at you, unblinking, as if you fell on your head and he’s trying to comprehend if you’re still here with him or if you got a concussion and need to be transferred into a hospital. When the contact of his eyes on your skin gets a bit too uncomfortable– you swear his looks could actually kill someone, if he tried enough– you furrow your brows at him in confusion and shake your head in disbelief.

“Why are you staring at me like that, Park Jihoon?”

“Just tryna see if you’re really that stupid or if you’re just pretending,” he mutters under his nose before he sighs again– his favorite activity whenever you’re around, it seems– and speaks up again, tone of voice reminding you of a kindergartener teacher trying to explain why it gets dark in the evening to a bunch of 4 year olds. “You know, when people ask about you, they are usually interested in you, as in, my friend Hyunsuk didn’t ask because you’re nice, but because you’re hot, if you know what I'm getting onto.”

“Oh,” you get out, eyes wide in concern and a little shaken-up, “well, that’s… nice of him, I guess.”

Jihoon only hums at you before he looks around himself and brings out the bag of chips that he left open by his right side only a few seconds ago, not really speaking more about the topic. It’s either he’s waiting for you to get what he’s hinting at, or he’s just waiting for you to get even more confused and ask him about it in a few seconds again– either way, he’s not the one doing more talking right now, because conversations with you, the most oblivious person he’s ever seen, are never productive if he goes too fast.

Chewing on the chips, his eyes go wide when you finally open your mouth and talk more about the topic at hand– just like he predicted. “Why are you telling me this?”

Your best friend swallows before he places the bag of chips back to its original place and turns his whole body so he’s facing you, speaking up again. “I was thinking that maybe, just maybe, you’d like to hang out with him. Like a date, before you ask– because I know you’re gonna ask– and why? – because, again, I know you’re gonna ask– because I simply think you should try to date again to get your mind off the loser you broke up with two months ago,” he says, blunt and honest, answering all of your unsaid questions at once, and before you know it, he has you snickering and shaking your head in disapproval.

“Absolutely not,” you retort, waving your hands in the air to only further show your disagreement with the proposition, “that would just be a massive catastrophe.”

“Why? Hyunsuk’s nice.”

“I didn’t say he isn’t, it’s just…”

“Just?” he probes you, eyebrows raised and questioning.

“I… don’t know,” you nervously chew on the inside of your cheek, aimlessly shrugging. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea, Jihoon.”

“Because of Mark?” he asks, and the moment his name escapes your best friend’s mouth, the whole room goes strangely quiet– you feel your heartbeat in your throat, the tips of your fingers start tingling and you swear that if you concentrate hard enough, you could feel a bead of sweat drip down your forehead with the incoming stress and nerves only the mention of your ex boyfriend brings you.

“No, that’s not it–”

“Sure,” he nods, sighing to himself– and there it is again, the judging look you so despise.

“You can’t just expect me to date other people a few weeks after my break up, Jihoon,” you exclaim, “that– that wouldn’t even be fair to your friend. You know I wouldn’t be invested,” you explain, and your friend rolls his eyes in frustration, sighing to himself.

“Oh but I know that! And Hyunsuk does too,” he shakes his head at you, “just thought the company of someone else could take your mind off things.”

“I have you,” you try.

“Yeah, but all we do when we’re together is mope about Mark Lee,” Jihoon snickers, “and don’t get me wrong, I’m more than open to bitch about your ex boyfriend and as your best friend, I don’t mind, but the fact that you’d be hanging out with someone else could take your mind off him, because you wouldn’t feel comfortable talking about him with someone else, y’know?”

You shut your eyes closed, a heavy sigh heaving out of your body as you try hard to concentrate and not lose it, and with how Jihoon’s tone gets softer and he’s not as loud with his brutal, yet logical advice, he must feel you getting overwhelmed and accommodates to your needs. “Look, it’s gonna be fun. I promise. Hang out with someone new, feel wanted and hot and pretty again, get some male attention that’s not your ex boyfriend, and you’ll see how it makes you feel. If you hate it, you hate it and you can slap me, I don’t know... If you don’t, you can keep dating around with my friends, and I swear I’ll hook you up only with the nice ones,” he takes your hand into his and waves it around in comfort, making you open your eyes and look at him again.

Seeing the softness and encouragement in your best friend’s eyes, you sigh to yourself. All this time, he’s tried to help you– what if you finally follow his advice? Who knows, it might even help.

Sighing, you squeeze his palm and hover over him to get the stranded bag of chips he’s guarding on the other side of the sofa. “Fine,” you mutter, “but let your friend know that he’s the one paying, okay?”

“Perfect. I'll text him your number, then.“

And maybe Jihoon was right and after dolling yourself up and dressing up in your favorite dress just so you would feel as comfortable as possible, you don’t feel as bad when his friend Hyunsuk picks you up in his white Volvo and chats with you on the way to the restaurant. He makes good small talk and even gets a giggle out of you, the music in his car is low and you find yourself slowly easing into the situation. You don’t remember when the last time you went out with a guy that wasn’t Mark was, but it’s surprisingly nice.

And Jihoon was right– you feel pretty. And when Hyunsuk opens the door for you after pulling up to the parking lot of the restaurant, you even feel wanted. You like the attention, just like any other girl would, and the smile you offer to your date seeps of tender shyness as you get out of the comfortable seat of his car.

The illusion, though, is soon broken as you notice the restaurant he pulled up to. Your smile freezes, your palms get sweaty and you feel your heartbeat rummaging against your ribcage as soon as the idle atmosphere of the restaurant opens up before you. And realistically, you could turn on your heel and get back to the car, tell Hyunsuk that you want to go to another restaurant– but you don’t do it, against your biggest wishes, because you worry that the boy already made a reservation and you don’t want to ruin an evening that’s going well so far.

“Everything alright?” your date checks up on you, seemingly noticing the frown on your face, and when his worried eyes meet yours, it’s sealed– you’d feel too bad for pulling out of the date now. So you only do what you always do best– you put on your best relaxed smile and nod, catching up to him and ensuring him that you’re all okay and you didn’t just talk yourself out of an anxiety attack.

Because you owe it to him and to Jihoon– both of them worked so hard to make you feel happy and help you to get over your ex boyfriend. It’s not Hyunsuk’s fault that he just managed to pick the restaurant your said ex boyfriend works at part-time. He had no way of knowing, and if you’re lucky enough, Mark wouldn’t be on today. He only works here part-time, it’s not like he’s here every day, and as far as you’re concerned, he only worked like two or three days a week when you dated. It would be a weird coincidence for him to be working the day you go there with your new date– you hope you’re not that unlucky.

Hyunsuk is a gentleman. Opening up doors for you, pulling out the chair for you, letting you talk and not interrupting you. He watches you with fond eyes and you almost try to feel bad for the fact that even if this ended well, the poor boy would just end up being a rebound. He deserves so much more, and you start to worry if this date was a good idea after all. Wasn’t it selfish of you to agree to this?

“What do you want to get?” he asks as you open up the menu, and you squint at the prices, mentally taking a note to order the cheapest thing just in case he wants to pay for you at the end of the evening.

“Spaghetti Bolognese,” you blurt out, despite it not being your favorite meal. Hyunsuk just stares at you with squinted eyes, but doesn’t disagree with you. After all, he has no way of knowing that you dislike the taste of the sauce in most restaurants– even though your conscience tells you that Mark knew that and always made sure to remind you about it before ordering for you, worried that you won’t get to eat much that evening– the only thing left to hope is that it tastes good in this particular place.

“Okay, sure,” he nods and puts the menu down, smiling at you before engaging in a comfortable conversation with you. It feels like you’ve known Hyunsuk forever– his personality oddly reminding you of Jihoon’s caused mainly by the fact that the two have grown up together. Everything flows soundly, but you still find yourself anxiously picking at your cuticles as you cautiously look around the restaurant, fearing the fact that you could catch a glimpse of your ex boyfriend at any second.

And maybe you should be a psychic, because those bad feelings were not there for nothing– when you see a waiter walking out of the back and eyeing your table, ready to get your order, the boy is a few inches taller than your current date, raven hair messy, but still a little styled, dark circles under the man’s eyes, and there he is– your ex boyfriend. Mark Lee halts in his movements, wearing his work uniform, eyes wide, a hint of something that breaks you at least in two mirroring in his orbs before he turns on his heel and disappears in the back again. When he doesn’t come back and his co-worker joins you and Hyunsuk at your table with a warm smile, you stop waiting to see the glimpse of him you selfishly desired to catch despite fearing the interaction the whole evening.

You want to fall through the floor and disappear in the depths of this earth. For some reason, you feel mortified. What would he think? And why do you even care about his feelings? A million different thoughts run through your brain and you worry that you’re being too distant from your current date, but Hyunsuk’s warm eyes reassure you that he doesn’t mind.

Piercing the food on your table with your eyes, you try to battle the noisy words running around your brain.

It’s easy to say you’re over someone when you don’t see them. To have them in front of you, meet their gaze and acknowledge their existence and still be able to nod and say that you’ve moved on, is something completely different.

Were you ever convinced that you were over Mark Lee in the first place, though?

After all of this– the months of following Jihoon’s advice, although making a few mishaps along the way as you continue to pick up Mark’s calls on Friday nights, snoop around his socials and let your mind wander to places it shouldn’t, overthinking everything and making you wish the relationship never ended in the first place– it’s time for the last step of it all. The last, most crucial part of this whole moving on process– the most important one, if you may.

Step five – avoid him at all costs.

Sounds easy, right? After the four previous steps, you’d already cried plenty about the lost months with your ex-boyfriend. You’d already given him back all of his stuff, not tying yourself to him with any material memory. You’d already gone on a date with someone new, choosing to distract yourself instead of letting yourself feel the emotions. After all the previous steps, this one’s supposed to be the easiest one. The one you’re supposed to want to do, after all. The break-up wasn’t messy, but it was still painful– it’s only natural for you to not want to see Mark ever again, right?

Wrong.

Because you never listen to the advice you’re given. That just wouldn’t be you, would it?

And so when Mark Lee calls you one day and tells you that he has a free train ticket to the Bukhansan stop, explaining that he was supposed to go hike there with Donghyuck who canceled on him last minute because of an assignment due midnight, you don’t really hesitate much before you shoot him a short text saying that you’re down and get ready for the short hike.

When you meet your ex boyfriend at the station, his figure slightly slouched up until the moment his eyes meet yours, you feel the quiet tension in the air. You’ve seen each other a few times before this meeting– on a party you went to with Jihoon, at the campus when you went to class one morning, your ex boyfriend walking you towards the Art building, hell, you’ve even met in the grocery store, all accidental and making your heart leap in your chest with tension. This time, though, you’re here completely intentionally, just to hang out with him, and something about the fact makes a dull pain shoot all through your intestines, a sensation so uncomfortable you try to hide with a tight-lipped smile.

“Ready for the hike?” he asks, adjusting the bag on his back, playing with the straps with clammy fingers. You can’t help but notice how he looks just like a little boy, in his little world, shielded from everything. He seems to have taken a protective stance, and you hate how the air between you shifted from how you two used to be when you were dating. Mark seems scared. Nervous. On top of his feet. Maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to this at all.

You’re already here, though. Turning around and leaving wouldn’t really work right now, as you take a step towards the train that’s just arrived, humming to your ex boyfriend in agreement. Taking a seat on the place Mark’s pointed to you on the train ticket, you try to loosen up your muscles and get as comfortable as you can, clearing your mind as you gaze outside of the window.

“How have you been?” he asks, clearing his throat.

Pressing your lips into a tight line, you turn to him as you search for an answer. “Better,” you nod, voice quiet. “You?”

Mark hums, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Good, good,” he lies through his teeth, “I’ve seen you at the restaurant the other day,” he hints, and you battle the sigh that’s begging to cut out of your throat. You don’t know where he’s going with the sentence. It’s not a question– only a proposition, barely even that– and you could ignore it with a nod of your head, you could pay it no mind as you see the bitterness in his gaze and the slightly self-conscious averting of his stare. You don’t know where he’s going with the conversation, but frankly, you don’t know where you are going with your answer either, as you shrug to him in a casual manner and peep under your breath.

“Yeah,” you say, “that was just… Jihoon’s friend from uni, I suppose,” you complete, and the sentence hints at nothing– it doesn’t clear out the confusion, it doesn’t outright say anything that could make Mark believe that it was just a casual hang-out with a friend, but still, you see the boy visibly relax as he nods to you and offers you a tight-lipped smile.

“Oh,” he hums, looking out of the window, past the profile of your face. The change in topic is sudden and sharp, but also welcome as he falls into a casual conversation with you, and suddenly, you’re reminded by the Mark you once knew– the guy you’ve once called not socially awkward, but so social that it’s awkward– as he talks to you about his day and rambles on about the weather. “It’s good that it won’t rain today, I bet the view will be nice.”

Locking your gaze with him for a brief second, you lick your lips and point your eyes towards the ground. It’s good that it won’t rain today, as opposed to last time you two went to the Bukhansan trail. You wonder if he remembers.

Before you have a chance to mention it– and in all reality, you won’t, no matter how bold you could be feeling at the moment– the train comes to a stop at your station and you hop out of the carriage, ready for the hike.

It’s easy to forget how messed up things have gotten between the two of you when you walk alongside with your ex boyfriend, laughing at his silly jokes and gasping at everything he shows to you with a pointed finger, finding yourself admiring the sound of his giggle when he spots a squirrel pass your path somewhere near the top of the hill. The trail is almost empty at this hour, since the two of you have decided to go in the late afternoon, and you find your soul to finally be at peace after so many weeks, you finally feel relaxed in the nature, one with the wind and the gentle sound of birds chirping lullying your running thoughts to a rest.

You realize that this is just what you needed all this time. You needed to get out and walk for some while, to tune out yourself and to accept the fact that you’re still here, for another day, and something about that is still a blessing. Watching the back of Mark’s head as he walks a step in front of you due to the narrowness of the trail in this area, you smile to yourself. It’s easy to forget just how much you were hurt by him when he heals your soul with such a simple gesture. It’s easy to forget you were hurt when he seemingly tries to put all the broken pieces back together, glue them to where they were in the first place, when things were easier and you both didn’t have so many things to worry about.

You reach the top just as the sun starts setting over the horizon, and there are only a few people scattered across the peak, sitting on their own picnic blankets and gazing into the distance. The hues of the sky paint the world in a different color, the oranges, pinks and muted purples playing with your heartstrings as you come to a halt and crouch down and feel the presence of another soul mirror your actions only a meter away to your right, his gaze glued to your side. The view is beautiful, but the feeling of being watched isn’t ignorable anymore, and so you turn to your companion and raise your eyebrows at him, wondering if he has something to say.

You don’t know how you’ll be able to come back to your life after this and pretend you still don’t want to spend every passing second with the man on your right. You don’t know how you’re supposed to ignore the ever so growing love for him– even though after being so disappointed with the past, the feelings should be decreasing, not doing the opposite– and frankly, you don’t even want to think of going back to the way it’s been for the past few months. And so you don’t– you allow yourself to indulge the moment, to ignore the pain that’s about to come, just so you could hold another beautiful memory to your heart and enjoy the moment before it hurts you to think of it tomorrow morning.

“It’s even more beautiful than the last time,” Mark hums, but his eyes never leave your figure– if you were still dating, you bet he’d come out with a cheesy line about how you’re prettier than the view, or something. “It didn’t rain this time around, thank god.”

Gazing at him, you shake your head in disbelief. Scoffing, you play with the grass between your fingers. “You remember that?”

“Yeah,” he hums, “I remember a lot of things.”

The sentence makes you bitterly chuckle. He knows why you’re reacting the way you are– and you have every right to. He claims to remember a lot of things, but the ones important to you, the ones you wanted him to remember, he failed to save into his memory. And that’s eventually what made you break up with him, at the end of it all.

At your reaction, he sighs and drags a hand across his face, seemingly realizing the weight of his own words and just how ridiculous he must have sounded to you right now.

“I- That-” he stutters, shaking his head, “that sounded stupid right now, considering… everything… Didn’t it?”

“Kind of,” you nod, not wanting to meet his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out, voice suddenly raw and serious, so different to the tone he’s been using with you the whole afternoon, “I don’t- I can’t remember if I said that back then, when you- when you… broke up with me, but I really am sorry, Y/N. You didn’t deserve that, and I am in no way shape or form trying to make this about me, but I hate myself every day for the way things turned out and if I could go back to that day, I’d do so many things differently.”

The sky in front of you deepens in reds and you taste iron on your tongue, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that you’ve managed to bite on your lip too hard in the midst of the conversation. Tearing out stems of grass with your clammy fingertips, you focus on the clouds running through the sky, calculating your next response.

“Okay,” you nod, not giving him much else. The answer perfectly encapsulates the way you feel on the inside right now– you don’t know if you’re ready to accept his apology, if you’re ready to let go of it and act like you weren’t hurt or that none of it ever happened, but you listened to him and you internalized his words. He is sorry. He knows he was in the wrong. And you were aware that he knew all of this before– hell, you’d even go as far as say he knew it the moment you knocked on his door that day and told him it was over– but hearing it from him surely moved something inside of you to a more comfortable place.

“I-” he starts, voice breaking making him clear his throat before he continues, “I don’t expect you to forgive me. And I know I shouldn’t have expected you to still be my friend after all of this, and that- I shouldn’t have even called you so many times and approached you at the store and stuff, but um-” he mumbles, shrugging to himself, “I guess I just couldn’t stay away from you. And again, I don’t expect you to forgive me, I don’t expect you to do anything, really. So… yeah…”

Snickering at his aimless monologue, you shake your head in disbelief. “Mark?”

“Yeah?” he stares at you, eyes a bottomless pool of emotion.

“Why did you invite me here today? What was the… point, I guess?” you ask, hugging your knees to your chest as the breeze makes goosebumps appear all over your body.

Mark offers you a sad smile, head leaned to his right as he shrugs, and this time, his eyes don’t leave yours as he spills the truth into the air. “I guess I was just feeling selfish today,” he hums, and the sentence makes you cringe with the memory of his first call to you after your break up, “wanted to spend time with you.”

“Here, of all places?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “told you. I was feeling selfish.”

Snickering, you look away, staring at the sky again. The colors are starting to blend together into a deep, dark purple– the horizon darkening as the sun starts to say its final goodbyes to the day. You sigh to yourself, yet feel no bitterness or terror at his words. Somehow, you understand. Somehow, you get him a little too well. Somehow, you think you knew the moment he texted you today, and somehow, you think you felt it in your bones when you didn’t say no, although you could have. There’s calmness in your soul when you nod at the implication of his words, leaning back on your elbows and plopping your bottom to the ground, sitting at the dusty surface.

“You said you didn’t expect anything out of me today, Mark.”

“And I don’t,” he says, voice soft.

“And you brought me here to remind me of the last time we went?” you stare at him, a hint of a bitten-back smile playing with your lips. “Because you’re selfish?”

He nods, not escaping your gaze. “To remind you of the last time we went. To show you that… I remember, I guess. And that I still care, just like the last time. If not more.”

“Mark, you can’t just say all of this and expect nothing out of me right now,” you mutter.

“Actually, I can. Because that’s what I’m doing. I’m just… laying it out in the open, and what you do with the information is completely, completely up to you,” he explains, and you find yourself chuckling at him, the atmosphere instantly lighter as you hear his voice in its usual casualness, talking to you as if he was just unpacking what went on in class today, and not the starting and the end of your one year relationship.

And he’s right. What you do with the information is completely up to you, and the next steps and the progress of your relationship with Mark Lee is also completely in your hands. You could turn away and never talk to him again, you could curse at him and tell him that it’s too late now and he missed his chance, but if that was the case, you wouldn’t be here in the first place. He wouldn’t be inviting you to this place, lying about his roommate canceling just to trick you into going, and you wouldn’t be blindly accepting the invitation, wanting to see where the afternoon brings you.

“So you still care about me?” you hum, looking at him from under your eyelashes, noticing his slouched-over pose as he looks back at you over his shoulder.

“Always have,” he admits, “never stopped. Despite not really… acting like it in the past few months.”

“Why’d you stop acting like it, then?” you ask.

A sigh escapes his lips, his head turning forward before he leans back and sits cross-legged on the ground, more comfortably now. Shrugging, he answers the question. “I guess I just got too caught up with different things. And don’t get me wrong, you were always my priority, always, but I was all over the place with everything and my mind just couldn’t… there were too many things to keep up with and I couldn’t stay up to date with everything,” he says, “and I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s an explanation, and it doesn’t make it better or undo the pain I’ve caused you, but it’s… at least you know it was never because I’d care about you any less.”

His eyes bear into yours with such honesty you think the weight of the world will crash on you any minute, and suddenly, the whole situation seems so much clearer.

And you wouldn’t take it back, you wouldn’t undo the breakup or do anything differently, because at the end of the day, you think it was needed. Perhaps the time apart was what he needed as a wake up call and what you needed to shield yourself from hurting more.

“Stop me from saying it if you… if you don’t want to hear it right now,” he hums, voice barely louder than a whisper. There seems to be a silent communication between the two of you, a connection of some sort that brings out the strange telepathy, but you just nod at him, a gentle smile playing with your lips as you understand exactly what he means, telling him that it’s okay and that you don’t mind– you welcome, you need to hear him say it again.

Licking his lips, he turns to you fully, facing you. There’s not a hint of nervousness in his body, having done this a lot of times before, and then it happens– the repeated confession, confirming what was there the whole time, never leaving even when the times were rough.

“I love you,” he says.

And isn’t that all that’s needed?

A year is a long time with someone. Somehow, you wouldn’t want the time to go to waste. At the end of the day, if love is still present, isn’t it worth trying? One more time?

“And you still don’t expect anything from me?” you ask, gazing at him softly. “You don’t expect me to say it back?”

“No,” he breathes out, shrugging. “I just needed to get it off my chest.”

“Because you’re selfish like that,” you nod, teasing him.

“Because I’m selfish like that,” he agrees, breaking out into a slight grin.

Looking at the sky, now completely dipped in dark purple, you sigh to yourself at the turmoil of the conversation. You don’t say it back– although you feel it, you know it’s in there, playing with your heartstrings and clenching the muscle in the palm of its hand– you know love is there, deep inside, for the man that’s currently staring at you as if you hung the very stars appearing on the sky there yourself, stolen them from your own eyes and gluing them there selflessly, for everyone to see. You don’t tell him you love him back, you don’t tell him you forgive him or accept his apology. You don’t worry about what tomorrow will bring you, what your brain is going to tell you when you come down from the hill and get home, lay in your bed and overthink. You let the worries escape you, letting fondness and calm envelope you in a tight hug instead.

“Okay,” you nod, watching the boy next to you look at you with curious eyes. You take his hand into yours and place it on your thigh, playing with his fingers for a heartbeat before you meet his eyes again and smile. “I won’t say it back, but for all it’s worth, Mark… I’m glad you remembered.”

And that’s all he needs– there is love, there is fondness, and there is the silent confirmation that all you need right now is just a bit more time.

Where do broken hearts go?

Somehow, you think they hold on to the place where it all started. Somehow, you think your heart never went anywhere– it stayed on this hill, waiting for you to pay it a visit and pick back up everything right from where you left it.

“It doesn’t seem like a good idea to go here today, Y/N,” Mark laughed behind you as he looked up to the sky, the dark clouds shielding the sun that had been previously shining down on your hiking figures, casting an orange glow on the strands of your hair.

“Well, there’s no turning back now,” you shrugged, turning to him and grinning as you tugged on his hand, grip strong as you dragged the boy up the trail, your sneakers fast against the dirty ground. “We have finals starting next week and it’s gonna be too cold to go after the exam season is over, so we gotta go now.”

“I kind of regret telling you that I’ve never been here before now,” Mark sighed, but followed you nonetheless, breathlessly following your excited stride. It was October, the leaves on the trees were welcoming the two of you in shining colors, and the wind kissing your skin turned a bit chilly in the evenings– courtesy of the warm hoodie Mark shyly lended you when you shivered for the first time, adoring the way you, his friend, looked in the light gray fabric. Something about you wearing his clothes made the boy a bit hopeless about the day. Maybe he’ll have enough courage to confess his feelings to you, he thought. Maybe, despite the first raindrops falling on the skin of his bare arms, this evening will have a happy ending for you and him.

“Oh, please,” you squinted at him, continuing to run up the hill– thank god it wasn’t that steep, serving both of you as the perfect hiking difficulty, “even if you wouldn’t have, I’d drag you here anyway. It’s like, my favorite place to go in Seoul, haven’t I told you before?”

You have, Mark thought. But he was okay with hearing it again.

You squealed when the raindrops got heavier and the rain started pouring faster on the two of you, and Mark found himself laughing at your running figure. He was right behind you, praying that you don’t slip on one of the rocks and break your leg on the hiking trail, but he encouraged you with sweet comments and a hand on the small of your back as he watched the tip of the hill appear right in front of his very eyes, your body coming to a satisfied halt when you reached your destination.

“Tada!” you grinned at him, twirling a little like a ballerina, showing him the place with outstretched arms. He tried hard to observe the place, but his eyes stayed glued to your excited figure, gaze bearing into yours as you looked at him, amidst a little flustered, with sparkly orbs and a bright smile on your face. Your hair was a mess, his gray hoodie enveloping your body was slowly growing darker in color from absorbing the rain, and your sneakers were getting a bit muddy from walking around the place. He wanted to remember this moment forever, he thought– this version of you, the smiley expression on your face, the carefree and excited nature of your step.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” you exclaimed, jumping around and nearing the boy, but as you went to take his hand to drag him around the top of the hill once more, your feet slipped and you fell forward, a surprised squeak battling its way out of your throat.

Your whole life flashed in front of your very eyes in that moment, embarrassment spreading down your neck at the fact that you were about to fall face first onto the ground in front of your crush of a few months, before your body collided with a soft, yet firm mass engulfing you closer. A pair of strong arms steadied you against his chest, and when you looked up at your friend, you swear all words were taken out of your dictionary, the sight leaving you speechless.

“It is,” he gaped, eyes bearing into yours. Mark was agreeing with you, but something in the back of your head was telling you that he didn’t really admire this place as much as you did– his curious gaze was always plastered somewhere completely else.

That place being your face, of course. And your eyes, your cheeks, the mess of your bangs, and occasionally– screw that, almost always– your lips. Much like in that moment, a few centimeters away from his face, so inviting he thought it would be a crime to contain the urge.

And so he didn’t– he didn’t control his feelings and the ever-so growing yearning for you, as he silently leaned towards your face and captured his lips with yours in a firm, yet short kiss.

He looked at you with a nervous tint behind his gaze when he leaned away, the sight of your wide eyes staring at him making a slight flush grow on his cheeks. You looked so beautiful in that moment– flustered, surprised, with messy hair and lips still apart– and he was relieved to not find a hint of a displeased emotion in your expression.

“Okay, so- well-” you stuttered, laughing to yourself, “this didn’t go as I planned, but I guess I’m happy as long as the final result is the same,” you hummed, standing on your tippy-toes and pressing your lips against him once more, this time letting yourself enjoy the moment fully, mouth moving against his in a careful, yet excited rhythm. He tasted like the strawberry candy you offered him on the bottom of the trail and smelled a bit like rain, the mixture always staying in the depths of your mind as his warmth enveloped you in comfort and a feeling of home.

“The final result being…?” he asked when you pulled apart once again, a dazed expression overtaking his sharp features.

“Us,�� you shrugged, “like this,” you clarified.

Mark laughed at that, hugging you closer to his chest. You rested your head on his shoulder, listening to the sound of raindrops washing away the top layer of dirt off the rocks on the tip of the hill, hands sneaking around his waist and enjoying the way they wrapped around him so tightly and so comfortably. You in his hoodie, in your favorite place, standing in his arms. It was raining, but it didn’t matter.

“Mark?”

“Hm?”

“If we ever get lost, or something happens… bring me back here, okay?” you mumbled close to his ear, lips gently glazing the skin of his ear, making goosebumps appear all over your new lover. “I’m convinced that this place could fix everything.”

“Even us?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not allowed to ever leave me now, what would there be to fix between us?” you smacked his shoulder, snickering to yourself.

“You never know,” he laughed, “what if I accidentally mess up somewhere along the way?” he asked, threading his fingers through your hair, smoothing down the wet mess.

“Okay then,” you hummed, “even us.”

Staring into your eyes, letting the moment play out by itself, Mark swore he’s never felt more at peace. He wondered if it was the effect of the place, the rain, or just your sheer presence. “I’ll remember that,” he giggled before he let go of your body, petting your head as he took a hold of your hand, tugging you down from where you came from, “now let’s go home before we catch a cold.”

Nodding, following the man as you both carefully, yet fastly made it down the trail, you enjoyed the way his hand fit into yours and the way you knew that after this, you can’t ever come back to being friends with Mark Lee. He was all yours, completely, utterly yours, and you knew in the back of your head, that you were his– and nothing will ever change that.

You would always come back to the hill with him. It felt ridiculous to think about you two ever having to fix anything between the two of you back then, but even in that moment, you knew that for him, you’d keep trying. As long as he does– as long as he remembers.

Where do broken hearts go? You guess they always come right back to the place they come from– and they leave glued back together every single time.

You guess your heart never really left the hill.

1K notes · View notes

rosazoldyckk · 1 year

Text

-Yandere! Killua Zoldyck X Reader Headcanons-

⚠️warning⚠️ mentions of obsessive/yandere tendencies, kidnapping, stalking and assassination.

Fandom: Hunter X Hunter. Character(s): Killua Zoldyck, Silva Zoldyck, Kikyo Zoldyck, Gon freecs.

*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧ 1073 words *.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧

*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧ *.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧ *.:✧*.:✧

Killua's love for you is intense. This new and rather unique feeling confuses him, and as much as he doesn't want to, he asks his mother and father about it.

Well, safe to say that Kikyo is absolutely FURIOUS that Killua is even thinking about something so foolish. She dedicated her whole being to raising her sons so that they could be the best assassins the zoldyck's could raise, and the heir to the family is thinking about love?? OUTRAGEOUS!!

Silva however, Is much more relaxed than his wife is and even encourages Killua to explore deeper into how he feels about you. To Killua, his father just wants him to be happy and free however in reality Silva wants a secured future for the Zoldyck family. So long as his son remains 'obedient' then all is well. (And maybe Silva can use you as a way to blackmail Killua if he ever becomes a hassle for the family)

Anyways. Now that Silva is on board, Killua is free to do whatever he wants with you!

No doubt that Killua politely asked Milluki to retrieve some information about you. (And by politely asked I mean threatened to destroy Milluki's dolls) And after Milluki being the ‘wonderful’ big brother that he is, Killua now knows all of your family's dark secrets that even you don't know.

Gon is the first to know about Killua's crush on you and in short he's super happy for his best friend! Gon is also just as encouraging as Silva is, even trying to spend some more time with Leorio and Kurapika so that you and you and Killua can have some 'alone time' (Gon doesn't know how crazy Killua is for you.)

Spontaneously walked up behind you one day in York new city and cut off some of your hair. Everyone around to witness it, including you, thought that he was some sort of psychopathic stalker when he was actually trying to be sweet. Even after all this time he still has it in a small ziplock bag underneath his pillow.

He really likes sleeping in the same room as you. Even when you don't know that he's there. You look so impossibly adorable, what with your tranquil expression and your gorgeous body. Killua couldn't help but wonder how it might feel to have you so at peace in his arms, with your steady and gentle breaths pushing against him. He wondered how it might feel to have your hands so securely wrapped in his own, with the softness of your skin soothing his.

Goes without saying that he'd 100% kill for you or torture someone in your name. What else could he do to prove his love? Must he rip out his heart and lay it on a bed of roses for you to acknowledge his undying emotions for you? If he needed help, than surely Gon, Kurapika and Leorio wouldn't hesitate.

Let's face it. Killua wasn't asking you out. He was telling you, you're now dating. He’s got a forceful side to him when it comes to starting the relationship.

If you didn't want to date him, that's just too damn bad because how are you in a position to refuse him when he’s the heir to the worlds strongest assassin family?

"We're not a couple, Killua! Stay away from me!" You screamed. Killua giggled as he looks up at you, a wicked smirk plastered on his face. "Yes... We are, Y/N. I've chosen you." He steps closer, making you gulp. "You're mine now~"

Killua wears the pants in your relationship. Well, he made the pants. He's the dominant one out of you two and he won't have it another way.

He's not delusional, just a boy who’s in love.

Killua may be a little immature, but boy is he smart. Growing up the way he did really gifted him with the art of manipulation and gaslighting to get his way.

Sometimes, he likes to make you feel foolish and pathetic. As a powerplay move.

He informs everyone including his family that both of you are dating. Even if it is not technically true. If Killua says your his. Then sorry, but there’s not much that anyone can do to help you.

Killua also forces his affection on you. (If you can even call it that). His favorite form of physical affection is hand-holding.

His favorite kisses to give are kisses on your knuckles. It's a gentleman's habit he learned here and there.

Call Killua a gentleman, and he’ll hold the title with pride

He'd give you the most bizarre but most expensive gifts (mostly from rich and fancy people that he’s had to assassinate). A whole bar of gold, a diamond necklace, rare animals, flower stems, the fingers of the people he’s had to kill, etc.

Killua isn’t overly expressive when it comes to telling you how much he loves you, Y’know since he didn’t really grow up hearing the words ‘I love you’ on a regular basis. So I think the farthest he expresses his love to you is through his drawings, and the occasional makeout session.

Killua would come to your home in the middle of the night with his skateboard and wake you up just so that he can tell you about the assassin life and how difficult it is. (As much as it’s fun to talk to you, Killua’s purely telling you so that you think twice about ever leaving him)

Now let's talk kidnapping...

If you got to a point where you couldn't take Killua forcing himself on you anymore and trying to flee, he would surely track you down in a short amount of time and then have you tied up tightly somewhere.

It saddens Killua deeply, to think that his love for you simply wasn’t enough to satisfy you, but he makes a silent oath to himself that he will try and be better, the second that he finds somewhere that will make sure that you never leave his side ever again.

His next step would be to inform his parents that a "guest" will be living with them for a while. And as skeptical the family is (an no matter how enraged Kikyo is upon hearing your arrival) they welcome you into their home. (On Killua’s demand) They don't even blink twice at the ropes wrapped around you or the collar tightened around your neck.

1K notes · View notes

libbee · 1 year

Text

Marry a Venus in 8h or Scorpio

While Scorpio and 8th House have some similarities: need for transformation, interest in deep and dark matters, intensity of emotions; they are still different as in 8th house deals with other people's money, a secretive life, lots of secrets, dealing with partnership, death and rebirth.

What is seen with these natives, especially ladies, is that their relationship or marriage is never "stable". You see how ladies like to flaunt their husbands, post pictures and how much they love their partner to social media and be in public eye? But these natives are the kind to hide their relationship. As if it is not true love if it needs public approval. Also, we see how couples stay the same way 5+ or 15+ years later as if nothing has changed; but for these 8th houser couples, they reborn so many times that they don't even know who they were 5 months back. Two different types of lives!

Here, the wife and husband/girlfriend and boyfriend are both cynical type, suspicious, reading people, their intentions, behaviour, motivations, emotions. They never relax until they get to the root of any matter and then pick another matter and question, question, question everything. Trust is important to them, even more than euphoria of love.

Why Trust?

Their life theme is usually that their childhood and relationship history are such that it is twisted, confusing, as if they were sleepwalking through a relationship and never really there. For this reason, when the relationship finally breaks down, they begin to realize how it was all just a delusion! Here, a relationship or situationship is the catalyst to bring all childhood memories to the surface and healing is a prerequisite to a better improved relationship. But all this is not easy! When they awaken from the state of "sleepiness" then their reality is shifted! Oh, I missed that red flag! Oh-he was keeping secrets from me! Oh, that was manipulation tactic! Oh, he was just like my father!! Their reality is shattered and results in cognitive dissonance, chaos, breakdown, obsessive rumination, ego dissolves, problems with self concept come to surface. "Healing" for them means to work on their Self Concept, that is, identity, confidence, self respect, boundaries, getting rid of emotional brain fog, learning what a relationship is supposed to look like, learning individuation.

8th house Venus is natural shadow worker. She intuitively knows the traits, flaws, faults, motivations, darkness and morbidity in other people. But her tendency is to integrate those dark parts in herself which is why 8H dissolves the boundary between right and wrong, bad and good, moral and immoral. To understand herself, she understands other humans. Not just the light and positive parts but the psychopathic, criminal, morbid, terrifying, scary human psychology. It is like food to her soul, to know the suffering and pain in the world. A sadist or a spiritually awakened being?

Since cognitive dissonance is a big thing for her, her no 1 priority in relationship is someone whom she can trust. Someone who will maintain her reality, will be honest, give her emotional security and keep her mentally stable. A dishonest or deceptive lover is her nightmare because the chaos of "figuring out my boyfriend" will drain her. She needs someone who is transparent and self aware so that her emotions are stablized and fears under control.

Husband

Like attracts like. Boyfriend/husband himself is mirror to these ladies. He is also suspicious, cynical, peeling layers of emotions, craving depth, has unstable self concept unless he is actively working on it, jealousy and possessive are not cute things, they are symptoms of weak Self concept. Since both parties are similar in nature, they understand each other. But not every marriage is that fulfilling! Sometimes partners are really incompatible or the awakening never happens, 8th house never activates. So, just 8th placement is not enough but the timing and dasha will determine how spiritual, healer, psychic they are.

Partner may have this past history, all or any of them:

Man with trauma, dark childhood

Loving a man with dark past

Scapegoat of his family

Fragile masculinity, emasculated by society

Emotionally neglected by his parents

Her man needs healing, security and understanding

He is a hunter type, fears abandonment, controlling

Mommy issues, his mom was a dragon, devours him, he is afraid of his femininity

Man is psychically penetrating, hyperalert, always reading the room, sensitive to energy, psychic types

Most Important

If Venus is in 8th house, this marriage is life changing. Transformative. Significant status difference between maiden life and married life. "Woah! She married that gentleman! He is so rich." Like in Pride and Prejudice, Elizabeth Bennett marries Mr. Darcy who is high class, wealthy and royalty type. There is something luxurious, old money, typical about this marriage. A typical politically connected or socially prestigious family. Sometimes people say 8th house is Karmic, fated, to let go control, money owed to them. I wonder if it is their husband who is paying back her debts to her? Is that why marriage transforms her life? Is marriage a karmic contract to pay back her loan given to husband? Perhaps it is.

Forced to Inner World

At some point in her life, she realized that her life was not quite same as others. She got aware of "psyche" something which has no evidence and is not scientific or physically seen. But for these natives, they are intuitively aware of psyche and how it surrounds us everywhere. In Man and His Symbols, Dr. Carl Jung says how the primitive people were so unconscious that they simply acted on their impulses and the images they saw in their head. They even thought that the animals and trees were their soul/spirit and were deeply submerged in the unconscious. 8th house is like that state of unconsciousness and then you come to awareness with a shock and again go back to unconsciousness. We are living in a flow state and only when something crisis, emergency or catastrophic happens that we awaken and soon go back to the flow state. That "awakening" is the hallmark of this house.

Another thing to be seen here is that these natives are forced to live in the inner world. They do not choose spirituality but have no choice - are forced to choose it. Since their emotions and conscience are quite sharp, they "feel" their way through life. (Trigger warning death) Let's say you killed your parents' dog accidentally and hid it in their own backyard and then lied about it to your parents when they asked where dog is. As the days go by, you feel that regret growing larger and larger. It creeps on you, eats you from inside, feels heavy in your body. That "I did something wrong" feeling never goes away. Imagine living with that feeling 24x7, that is your conscience.

For these natives, their conscience is just hyperactive. It is their guide through life. If they dismiss their conscience, they are faced with external consequences in physical life. There is a saying "As above, so below" which fits to these natives, which means that the inner life and outer life are just the reflection of each other. If we sit back to think about the past, we realize how everything is connected to everything else. That nothing was random. Self-reflection and pattern seeking are highlighted in this house. Any planet that is placed in 8th or 12th house is partially submerged in the underworld and the only way to maintain a life is to dig that "hidden" something. Occult tools, psychoanalysis, reading people, meditation are really helpful to make the unconscious comprehensible. This way they can even avoid the unnecessary unpreditable sufferings of this house.

I have seen how native if lives absent mindedly, without thinking of their actions, they always face instant karma in physical life or the psychic life. In psychic world, they feel guilt, unexplainable regret, negative emotions, shame, depression, etc. If they ignore these symptoms for too long, it will all explode with a blast BUT the healing will finally begin. For the sake of your mental stability, keep doing self reflection and avoid unnecessarily events and suffering.

It takes some time and understanding to realize what Self awareness means. The society we live in, cultural and social behaviours are contrary to self awareness. We live in an extraverted, materialistic, narcissistic society; you have to just be opposite of that -- introverted, spiritual and empathetic. These natives are not born healers, they are wounded healers. They may even feel external locus of control and surrender to psychic forces because their life is just so stormy.

My only advice is: To keep your eyes open! Just because your friends or some celebrities can indulge in behaviours and get away with it, it does not mean that you can too. Instant Karma is something that happens in 8th housers life a lot. Once you identify it, you can then change your behaviour and language to avoid these suffering.

#astro community #astro notes #astro placements #astro tumblr #astroblr #astro observations #astrology #astrology blog #astro #astrology community #astrology notes #astrology observations #astrology tumblr #astronotes #sidereal astrology #vedic astro notes #vedic astrology #Venus in 8th house

534 notes · View notes

azurlily · 1 year

Text

Day 10 of 31 of the yandere month May challenge. There three yanderes together are both hell and heaven on earth.

So day 11 more than likely wont get posted, but YAY the weekend! I'll be catching up on not only sleep, but writing too!

It's obvious what it is. No explanation needed.

Yandere!Azula Yandere!Ty lee and Yandere!Mai SFW HEADCANNONS

"Hurry up [Name]!"

"If you don't hurry up we're leaving you."

"Don't listen to them, hold my hand. We'll walk together."

You were all young when you met. They were all so sweet, maybe a bit mean, but sweet nonetheless. You three played together, you three trusted eachother. You still do...to an extent.

The obsession started when you got hir training with Mai. Her immediate reaction was to help, but she couldn't move. She was afraid, seeing you in so much pain. You were all about 10 around then.

After that they treated you as though you were fragile, you could break. They didn't want you getting hurt, they hated seeing the pain in your eyes.

The three balance eachother out. While Azula is down right crazy, Mai is more subtle and psychopathic, Ty lee has a savior complex. She thinks you need to be saved, and the three are the only ones who can do it.

When you turned 13, when your hormones started kicking in that's when it really went down. Since you all grew up together you were in the same age radius. Their tendencies got worse, so much worse.

Instead of watching you and following you, they watched you sleep. They watched everything you did, no matter what it be. You slept? They watched. You bathed? They watched. Anything.

You didn't realise it at first, but slowly you started noticing the actions. Noticing just how they were treating you. You noticed the crooked smile Ty lee gave you when she lied, she was bad at it.

Ty lee is the one you get the most information out of. She's the reason their true colors started showing earlier than expected.

When you fi ally confronted them, you were about 15. You told them it wasn't okay to creep on you, and that they had more important things to do. Catching the avatar happened to be one of them.

The three left, they had a journey ahead of them. The thought of coming back to you smiling face, that's what kept them going. When they came back...it was different.

They were different.

Ty lee was as sweet and happy as usual, although you could see the dark glint in her eyes.

Mai was more and more interested in weapons, knives specifically. She acted as if they kept her comfortable.

Azula. Azula changed a lot. She was always a bitch, but now it was worse. Now she'd hurt you with no hesitation.

You had seen they were pushing you away, and maybe it was for the best. You should have just left them alone, you should have drifted into the background. You didn't.

How could you? Yes, they acted weird before, and yes, it was worse now, but you couldn't do it. You couldn't leave them to experience that mental pain alone. So instead of falling back, you pushed forward.

You tried to talk to them more, do things they liked, make them smile. Even if it was faint, you could see them slowly changing. It was only for you though. Around anyone else they were monsters.

They kept it hidden, they couldn't believe you had willingly come back to them. They were all in bad shape after coming back, and you helping them. Oh, it just restored the faith they had in you.

Ty lee was doing tricks for you, she needs you attention. She gave you cheek and neck kisses, smiling when you blush. She's very touchy and needs to feel your warmth. All. the. time. She deserves it too, she keeps you happy, in return you smile and give her attention. The smile you give her is like a sun, and she's just a lowly, average person. She cant get too close, for fear she might burn.

Mai was showing you how capable she is. She shows off her fighting skills, she blushes when you clap you hands or cheer her on. She kisses you on your forehead and cheeks, she's gets too embarrassed too kiss your lips. Neck kisses feel to intimate.(she gets embarrassed about those too) Mai does everything in her power to make you watch her, that's what she likes. She like you watching her- paying attention to no one else.

Azula was exerting her power over you. She wants you to know that she's powerful, that she can do so much for you. She proves her strength so you give her the interested look. She kissed you on your neck, lips, and cheek. She find the forehead childish, and the rest makes you shiver or blush. She of course has to do it. Azula give you everything you could ever want, the more she gives the more she gets. She makes you feel so happy and love, that's her goal.

They(metaphorically) keep their hands over your eyes. As you grow, by the time you're 18 they are more than ready to take you as theirs. You have no idea what they're doing. By that I mean- keeping you clueless, making you slowly come to the realization that they're in love with you.

You just can't so no to them. It would break their hearts, and they might break yours too. So you accepted, they agreed to share you, each girl getting their own time for you. Each girl getting to love hou in their own way.

You can't escape, but why would you want to? They give you love, attention, gifts, any and everything you could ever want. It's at the tip of your fingers. So you will love them, even if it isn't real at first. They'll wiggle their way into your heart.

#avatar the last airbender #avatar #yandere azula x reader #yandere azula #azula x reader #ty lee x azula x mai #azula #yandere mai #yandere mai x reader #mai x reader #mai #yandere ty lee #yandere ty lee x reader #ty lee x reader #ty lee #yandere month challenge #wlw #lesbian #headcannons

641 notes · View notes

muffinsin · 3 months

Text

Cassandra x fucked up/psychopathic reader

Prompt: Cassandra gets herself someone with little to no morals, someone violent and appreciative of her sadistic tendencies

(Fem reader)

Warning for: Violence, partly NSFW content

Idea inspired and matched by @fantasy-relax . Go check out their take of the story written in the reader’s POV! I absolutely loved it, and I’ll link it here! :) I highly recommend reading it too, as it’s a direct counterpart to this!

Let’s get into it! ;)

Masterlists

Cassandra gasps in shock when she spots the small scratch on her sword. Immediately, this shock turns to anger.

“Hey!”, she yells, relishing in the wide, fearful eyes that land on her.

“"Look what have you done! My favorite sword has a scratch! You useless woman!", she curses.

She grabs the sword tightly, her gloved hand running alongside the blade. It’s not even close to being as sharp as it is meant to be!

Is this foolish imbecile trying to sabotage her?!

" I'm s-orry Lady Cassandra my arm was tired and I-AHH"

Cassandra laughs at the scream that follows, the fearful eyes widening in terror.

The cut made by the sword was fast and made with lethal precision. The arm rests on the soft carpet, and it draws more laughter from Cassandra.

She crackles at the sight of the imbecile falling to her knees, more and more tears spilling down her red cheeks.

"Not tired anymore I bet", she snickers. More screams and cries follow.

Please this, please that. Please spare me, please, please, please, please. As if the word has any meaning to Cassandra at all. She merely rolls her eyes at it. If her prey was a little more entertaining with her begging, at least!

She inspects the bloody blade, a sick smile coming to her lips.

Perhaps, it was sharpened properly after all. She shrugs it off. The scratch still lays beneath the blood!

With a large grin on her face, she steps to the kneeling woman again, her hand reaching out to grasp the little bit of her upper arm that is left.

Again, the woman is howling in pain.

With a quick cut to her other arm, it also falls to the floor. Cassandra crackles as blood spills and splutters in her face.

Now she sees the twitching fingers of the unattached arms, she giggles. She should’ve probably broken them first, but this one is really testing her patience!

With another slash to her chest, the woman screams again. She falls on her back, and Cassandra laughs loudly at the image. With no arms remaining, she can barely squirm away.

“Poor, little maid”, she states mockingly. Like a turtle turned on its shell.

She allows to drop the sword to the floor. It is in need of proper sharpening now!

Instead she brings out her sickle. She relishes in the fear that surrounds the maimed woman.

The maid keeps screaming, until Cassandra at last is done with her and cuts her head in another clean swipe of sickle.

She smirks to herself, yet nearly jumps in surprise upon hearing a hum.

In the doorway, stands another maid.

Golden eyes catch yours, and she gives you a sadistic smile.

"What is it, little morsel? Want to be next?", the taunts, giggling. Oh, two victims in such short times? Ah, and you practically ran into her arms!

She’s crackling with delight.

Rising from the floor, she walks up to you slowly, circling you such as a predator would their prey.

She licks the blood off her sickle, golden eyes wide in excitement. You smell so well already! Perhaps she would let you run along, merely to chase after you. Not that you’d stand a chance against her, of course.

She’s just about ready to raise her sickle to your pretty face when unexpected words fall from your dry lips.

"That was a clean cut my lady, you have a steady hand"

She freezes.

What?

Cassandra is left dumbfounded, her eyes, even with her lazy eye, wide as you easily walk past her and inspect the body.

You bend over it, and all she can do is watch.

What the?

She thinks she is just ready to catch herself again, to resume taunting you and kill you when another comment comes from you.

"You also have to be pretty strong or have a sharp weapon to make this so smoothly"

She finds herself frozen yet again, her flies buzzing in excitement beyond her control.

What’s going on?

She resists the urge to tell you, proudly, that the weapon was rather blunt and it was her sheer strength that allowed her to maim, then kill.

You’re standing now, and it’s as your eyes bore into hers. She doesn’t understand.

Why are you praising her for this? Maids usually cry at her sight. The staff calls her a monster.

And why is she liking your praise this much?! You’re a lowly maid! She shouldn’t be accepting compliments from the likes of you! What if her sisters found out? What if her mother was to fi-

Another comment.

"Truly impressive"

This one makes her chest feel light. Her eyes widen for a moment when she feels her cheeks heating up beyond her control and her flies buzz purr loudly.

Quickly, she swarms away, more and more until she is in the safety of her room.

Her prey is long forgotten as she falls into her large bed, face flushed and an uncomfortable ache in her chest and between her legs.

She groans at both.

With her blush only increasing and embarrassment taking over her, she swarms out of her dress and tends to the sudden wetness between her thighs.

Cassandra doesn’t know why she’s even doing this! She shouldn’t!

It’s a waste of time!

She’s only doing this to scare you!

You deserve to be scared!

She’s just proving things to you!

She definitely isn’t doing this to receive words of praises from you again…!

Still, she holds the unattached leg of a maid tightly, her scalpel making clean cuts into the soft flesh.

"How is this cut for you?", is carved inside in no time. She knows, it’s petty! Hell! She’s feeling petty!

“Pretty cut, bla bla!”, she curses. “I’ll show you this cut!”

You will have to falter in fear with this one! How dare you not fear her?! She’s going to show you! She will give you reasons to be afraid!

A petty pout turns to a wide, excited grin, she drops the leg in front of your door and knocks her gloved knuckles against it quickly and hard.

She feels her excitement bubbling in her chest.

She resists the urge to giggle when she hears you move about and quickly swarms to the ceiling, her dark golden eyes wide and curious as she clings to the wall.

Cassandra nearly curses herself for the blush on her cheeks. Stupid, stupid blush!

She can’t stop thinking of your words from yesterday. Your praise…

Cassandra bites her lip hard as she frowns and pouts.

She isn’t doing this to hear you praise her work!

At last, you are outside the door. Cassandra frowns when you pick up the leg with no qualms at all. Not even a little shriek? She could groan and growl in her aggravation!

Then, her breath hitches when you read her message aloud, a small smirk on your lips: "How is this cut for you?". Your voice is pretty…you are.

Cassandra squeaks suddenly at your next choice of words.

"Aww, My lady is pretty cute"

She’s blushing hard again, her entire face warm and pink, all the way up to the tips of her ears!

Cute?!

CUTE?!

She hasn’t- she’s never- never had anybody-

Cassandra’s eyes widen when you look up, her swarm quickly flying away. She still hears your soft laughter and nearly swarms face first into a chandelier.

Cassandra hums to herself as she cleans her sickle of blood again, when she suddenly hears some unlucky maid walk down the steps to the basement. She grins in anticipation.

Ah, what poor, unfortunate soul have they sent to clean this time?

She walks slowly, yet finds herself frozen in her spot again when she realises it’s you.

You’re inspecting one of the maids, one Cassandra has just finished playing with. She gulps.

What’s going on in your mind? Why are you just watching in wonder?

She prays there will be no blush appearing on her face this time.

She straightens her posture a little, forcing herself to fall back in her confident, predatory state.

"Seeing your future, little maid?", she hums. Golden eyes flicker with excitement when you flinch and she hears your heartbeat rate increase.

Ah, she knew she could scare you! She smirks confidently and hums in delight as she steps closer to you.

"I make sure to keep her miserable as long as possible by-

"Making cuts that are painful but not mortal, absolute brilliant, nothing less of expert like you"

Cassandra feels flustered yet again. What? What?!

She stands with her lips parted, her words having died on her tongue. Thankfully, you aren’t facing her.

She feels her cheeks burning as your fingers graze her arm to move her aside, and in her shocked state, feels herself move back when you push her hip and arm gently.

She watches, dumbfounded, as you take a look around. You seem so curious! So admiring of her work! It’s making her feel so flustered!

She growls, quietly, as though demanding to stop her body from reacting this way! She already feels the pull in her chest and the ache between her legs, the warm feeling on her cheeks.

She recalls her sisters’s words and growls again. She does not have a crush!

Cassandra Dimitrescu does not get such silly things as crushes! Even on a goddess like you…

She watches with more curiosity than she’d like to admit as you inspect one of her recent victims, a man-thing, held up by hooks that go through his hands.

He’s gagged, to stifle his annoying whimpers and cries. Cassandra has grown tired of hearing them.

She tenses when you poke his broken legs and giggle to yourself.

"Very creative", you admire.

Cassandra, happy you aren’t facing her, pulls her hood all the way down in an attempt to stop and hide her blush.

She’s purring, but hopes you’re unable to hear it. For a moment, she hits her own chest, as though to make the purring stop.

Of course, it doesn’t.

Full of curiosity, it seems, you keep exploring.

Praises fall from your lips like droplets from a waterfall, each making Cassandra feel more and more flustered and needy. She shouldn’t be so flustered at this! And she definitely shouldn’t be getting turned on for this!

"Astounding"

"Visionary"

"Imaginative"

Her swarm buzzes so loud, she knows you must hear it soon. Upon finding you’re starting to turn around, she quickly grabs you as a swarm and carries you out the door.

This is a first, she thinks with a blush, Cassandra throwing someone out of the dungeons.

"Rude", you remark as she drops you rather ungracefully and disappears back down.

She swarms until she is able to shut a door behind her, her back sliding against it as she sinks to the floor.

Cassandra’s face is burning bright pink and her flies buzz all too happily. She wishes she could fight the large grin on her lips as she hugs herself and pulls her hood down to cover her face again.

In the following days and weeks, Cassandra can’t help but gift you more limbs.

She can’t help but want to shower you in gifts. You’re so…perfect…she thinks with a dreamy sigh.

Upon finding that human ones are often praised and returned to her, she opts for gifting you animal meat instead. This one, you praise her for too, knowing she is spying, and even cook!

She recalls a couple of her gifts for you

A deer leg with the words “you have pretty eyes” carved inside. She remembers nearly falling from her spot at the ceiling when you read it out loud and hummed: “Mhm, my favourite colour has always been a dark gold”

Those were her eyes!

Her blush only went away hours after you said that!

A boar heart. She spent hours looking for one and was so proud to gift it to you with the attached note written in blood: “Did you know they are the most similar to humans?”

She nearly gasped upon seeing the fond smile on your lips and hearing the pretty giggle.

A full, juicy bunny. “Small like you”, written in blood. She had blushed at the small that was pulled from you.

This goes on for a small while, until one day a group of hunters try to raid the castle and kill the monsters inside.

Of course, they pose no challenge to Cassandra at all!

She crackles in delight, even, at the opportunity to kill this many!

Still, she’s pouting angrily. Daniela has six already! Bela has five and a few spare limbs! And her? Cassandra has only caught four so far.

She curses under her breath. Why must she be slower than her sisters?! She trains by far harder than them! It’s unfair!

With a start as she looks at one of the dead maidens on the floor, she remembers you.

She realises, unlike her, your life is in danger! Was, seeing as the intruders are now taken care of.

Bodies, blood and all kind of gore is in the floors and the carpets of the castle. Cassandra is unbothered by it. She must find-

Golden, dark eyes widen in delight when she first smells, then sees you kneeling on the floor at the main hall.

You’re well! At least she assumes as much.

In her worry, Cassandra can’t help but pounce. She tackles you to the floor easily, her body on top of yours, her thighs on each side of your hips as she leans down to inspect your beautiful face.

"Are you okay?! Did they hurt you?! Tell me who-"

"I'm fine lady bela take care of them", you interrupt gently. She calms down a little, yet frowns again when she sees the three bodies piled on one another in the corner of the hall.

"You took three", she states, curious.

"Oh yeah, that reminds me" You point at the three bodies, and she follows it. They’re all of decent size, and she’s quite impressed that you were able to take them on.

Quite refreshing, for a human.

"They are all yours, Lady Cassandra"

Her eyes snap back to you in surprise.

Hers? A gift? For her?

She smells their blood when she inhales…they smell scrumptious! She wants to take them, so bad. Yet…

There is a rule among the three sisters, to avoid fights, or at the very least lessen them.

Only the prey they hunt can be eaten by them. No sharing, no taking another sister’s prey. She blushes as she is once again reminded of her pathetic four bodies.

Then, she perks up. With your three, this would make seven! She’d have caught the most!

She knows, she is stronger than them…just not faster.

"I killed them, so they are mine, but I’m not gonna eat them, so they are all yours”, you reason. Cassandra blushes again.

She eyes the corner with the pile of bodies and grins widely again. Yes! She accepts! Mother will be so proud! Her sisters will be envious!

You…are so painfully adorable, perfect, hot and make her feel so flustered…

She gasps audibly above you when you grasp her chin tightly.

She keeps staring at you, golden eyes wide when you lift your apron to her face and begin to clean the blood around her lips.

She feels your thumb slide across them and can’t help but attempt to press her thighs together- something that clearly does not work with your hips between them.

Her face is bright red, pink cheeks and tip of her ears, an entirely flushed and warm face.

“Cute”, you whisper, and she really wishes she could’ve stopped that squeak that came from her.

She gasps when your hand moves from her chin and grabs the back of her neck instead, and with wide eyes, she feels herself be yanked downwards and to your lips.

After a second or so, she at last catches up and eagerly returns your kiss.

She’s moaning and whimpering, panting against your lips. She’s so flustered, and yet can’t help but grin and hold onto your hips tightly.

"FINALLY, the pining was killing me!”

You and her jump at the sudden voice in the main hall.

She’s covering you with her body, as though to protect you from an attack.

Instead, Cassandra blinks when her warm cheeks are smudged by her younger sister’s palm.

Quickly, she snarls at her and rips her face free.

"SHUT UP, DANIELA!”

From there on, you’re in a relationship. Cassandra eagerly brings you more and more gifts and shows you her appreciation for your praise in just the right ways.

She appreciates, too, when you bring her gifts.

Often, these include bratty maidens or animals you find out in the garden. Sometimes, rarely, you find her a rose and dip it in blood for her. She’s blushing endlessly when it is gifted to her. It’s beautiful!

She sits next to Daniela, rolling her eyes and acting as though she isn’t listening when her sister tells her of her latest book.

Suddenly, you come into the library, dragging a maiden behind you. Her eyes sparkle in delight! Lunch and a gift!

"Knock first! I know you have manners", Daniela fumes.

Cassandra snickers. She coos at you and resists the urge to get up and cup your cheeks. Like hers, they are flushed red. Yet while hers is the result of feeling flustered, she feels your heart beat angrily.

Still, she teases eagerly.

"Aww, did my draga mea miss me so much?”, she coos.

You seem to ignore her words, but certainly not her.

Pride blooms in her chest as you walk up to the table and grip her sickle.

The maid you’re carrying is dropped, crying and begging as she attempts to get away from you and the two murderous sisters.

Daniela rolls her eyes when she hears Cassandra’s heart rate pick up. She just wanted to gossip!

“Oh!”, Cassandra gasps when you grab the crying woman’s head by her hair, pull out her tongue and cut it off swiftly.

She crosses her legs and pushes her thighs together harshly at the ache and sting of her clit.

Never has she seen something this arousing before. Her face is flushed bright pink and she’s panting from only watching you.

"AHH-UGH!”, the pathethic woman cries. Cassandra watches with a dark, sadistic glint in her eyes as you merely grab her again and bash her head against the floor.

Neither her, nor you mind Daniela’s groans about the beautiful floor of her beloved library.

One, two, three, four, five bashes. She is out, and Cassandra feels as though she is drooling and her lips are dry at the same time.

You drop the woman her and walked to the sadist, and she gasps again when you throw the sickle on the table.

All words are taken from her. She can only look at you, her cheeks bright red and pink, her eyes wide and sparkling with love, admiration and arousal.

“Mgmph!”, she moans as her grin is grabbed and you kiss her deeply until she is panting. She feels the blush on her face just grow bigger and warmer at your actions and whimpers at the embarrassing purrs that come from her chest.

Cassandra bites her bruised lip as her gloved hand is grabbed by you, and smiles almost shyly when the tongue of the maimed woman is dropped in her hand.

She’s crying on the floor, bloodied and unable to move. She knows, if she did, Cassandra would be on her within seconds.

"Here my love, a snack", you speak softly. Cassandra blushes even more. She’s thankful Daniela seems to have taken her leave.

She moans when you kiss her again, your warm tongue inside her mouth and dominating hers easily.

She whimpers, almost, when you let go of her and only cup her bright pink, warm cheek.

You brush her hair behind her ear, and Cassandra feels too flustered to meet your eyes for a moment.

"I still have duties to attend, I’ll see you later, draga”, you coo, and she nearly whines again. The pressure between her legs is becoming nearly unbearable. How can you make such a display and then attempt to leave her to her own devices?!

She knows, she must look like a lovesick puppy. No better than Daniela. Oh, but she can’t help it at all!

She grabs your wrist quickly when you turn around, and blushes harder under your gaze. You’re smirking at her when you turn back to her.

“Don’t go…”, she breathes out, her thighs spreading a little. Her head spins when you inhale and kneel before her, your hand boldly squeezing her thigh through the fabric of her dress.

It seems, your duties can wait. They must!

“I-I’m your superior”, she breathes out. “You have different duties to attend to, now”, she adds.

You smirk at the panting woman, and Cassandra bites her lip at your hum.

“If my Lady wishes so…”, you whisper back, a sly smirk on your beautiful lips.

Suddenly, Cassandra feels herself be yanked off the cushioned sofa and onto the floor. She jumps when you lean close, your hand grabbing the crying woman’s bloodied chin.

“You best watch now, bitch. This is the closest you’re getting to your goal, you filth!”

She whimpers at the arousing scene, though feels puzzled. What? She doesn’t quite understand.

“What do you- YA!”, she shrieks when her hair is grabbed by you and you spread your legs.

Pulling down your underwear and tugging up your skirt, you push Cassandra’s head between your thighs.

She moans, your scent is making her feel lightheaded.

“Start, Cass. We don’t have all day”

She presses her thighs together harshly. She’s so wet, she feels it even through her entirely soaked, black panties.

Cassandra jumps when she notices you step on the squirming woman’s lower back, trapping her in place as you grant her a view of Cassandra’s tongue lapping at your folds.

She blushes at this, but knows: the woman won’t last. She will serve her as a snack after the meal she is having just now.

“Mghmm”, she moans, her eyes closing and her hands resting on your thighs.

Cassandra can’t help but thrust her hips forwards as she drags her tongue through your wet folds. She wants- needs- you so bad. And you seem to be in a similar state.

You’re utterly soaked for her, your pussy drooling your arousal and love for her. She’s panting as she licks you over and over again, before she at last wraps her lips around your clit.

Sharp moans and your nails digging into her head are her reward. She moans loudly, the vibrations of her against your clit only adding to the pleasure she grants you.

“Go-ood, keep going”, she hears you groan. You tug her hair sometimes, and she moans at each move.

Cassandra squirms and gasps, sucking and licking your lips all too eagerly.

“Mhmmmn, mhhnnnm”, she moans.

She feels you grind your core against her face, your hips shaking lightly.

The pathethic cries of the woman only fuel her further and add to the dripping wet arousal between her own thighs.

“Mhnnngn, she’s wonderful at this..!”, you groan, and she blushes and squirms again.

She hasn’t got a clue what the maid has done to deserve your wrath, but doesn’t care either. All she can focus on, is your quivering thighs.

With another broad lick across your southern lips, she collects more of your wetness.

“G-Good, so clo-ose”, you moan, and it’s music to her ears. She feels even more shameful and aroused when she pushes her clothed core against your leg, her soaked, panty covered clit rubbing against your ankle as she ruts against you.

She hears you chuckle breathlessly at this. She’s so needy, so pent up…

As her gloved fingertips dig into you slightly and she sucks your clit a little harder, she feels you orgasm against her lips.

Cassandra moans with you, her back arched and her tongue eagerly lapping her remaining meal.

“C’mere…”, you moan, and she obeys eagerly.

With a single pull and push, it’s now her who is smushed against the cushions. Yet, her cheeks burn hotly. Unlike you, she isn’t sitting.

She’s bent over, her chest and face against the cushions, her behind sticking out for you.

She digs her fingertips into the soft material of the sofa when you lift her dress and tear her black, partly transparent tights easily.

“Y-Yes…!”, she groans, eyes rolling to the back of her head at your rough actions. She knows, she’s right on the edge and utterly drenched for you.

“Good girl”, you praise as you tug her black panties off. She feels the air of the room hit her cunt for a mere moment and whimpers in embarrassment when you place your index and middle finger on one southern lip each, then pull them apart to reveal her completely.

Her face burns and her pussy drools.

“See that?”, you pant. She assumes you aren’t talking to her and it’s making her feel even hotter.

“That’s all mine, you fucking bitch. Don’t you forget that ever again!”, you curse. She squirms, and moans hotly when she feels your tongue drag through her soft folds.

Her back is arched and her thick thighs quiver, her fat ass shaking when you slap it playfully.

Cassandra feels so good, right there from all your beautiful teasing and demonstrations.

She moans hotly when a finger is pushed inside of her, then a second follows.

Her pussy grips you tightly, and a wet, squelching sound is heard with each thrust inside.

“A-Ah! Ye-es!! Don’t stop!”, she moans, her voice high pitched and loud. She groans and moans when she feels your lips wrap around her clit and suck it harshly into your mouth.

“Mhnnnm! F-Fuck! Yes yes! YES!”, she screams.

Your fingers thrust in and out of her fast, rubbing her warm insides and curling at her G-Spot as they thrust.

Cassandra sees stars when your teeth graze past her clit.

Soon, by far too fast for her to feel as though she has any of her dignity left, she cums on your fingers and feels a soft pair of kisses pressed against her thighs.

“That’s it, my Cassandra”

Her head spins at the possessiveness in your voice.

#cassandra dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #resident evil village #cassandra dimitrescu x reader #fantasy-relax #fantasy relax

144 notes · View notes

muzansfangs · 5 months

Text

Guilty pleasure.

Starring: Muzan Kibutsuji x f!reader; Kokushibo x f!reader; Nakime, Douma, Yuichiro Tokito, Sabito, Makomo and Kotoha; mention to Inosuke and Kagaya;

Warnings: murder, death, use of guns, shotguns, blood, gore, mental and physical torture, explosions, knives, stabbing, abuse, angst, psychopathic tendencies, harassment, criminal plots, cheating, use of alcohol;

Plot: Muzan has finally found a way to take down part of the Ubuyashiky Empire. While you do not even know where he is, attending a dinner, supposed to be a date with Muzan, with his First in Command, you get drunk and a small accident takes place in the parking lot. What you do not know is that your soon to be husband is busy blowing up a building, while with the help of his loyal guards, he lets blood run down the streets.

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

THIS PLACE IS ABOUT TO BLOW.

The night had barely veiled the sky, when Muzan hopped down from the car. After years of searching for that place, he had finally found it. The road was silent, exceptionally silent, and everything was set. For weeks he had tried to fetch Kagaya a blow. After the little stunt he had pulled with his daughter, with you, Muzan craved more. His arms factory, the industry located in a secret location that nobody could ever find, was now under his nose.

The new recruit, Kaigaku, had done a pretty decent job in stalking his cousin all the way here. Such a pity that a fine building was about to turn into ashes in a few minutes. Bombs had been activated in every angle of the company and all it would have taken to make them explode was a simple remote he was currently holding into his hand. A small black device with a red button in the middle.

"I believe there's still someone inside" Nakime pointed out, scrutinizing the area with a pair of binoculars and spotting two cars in the parking lot.

Muzan did not even bother glancing at them, he closed his eyes for a second and a small grin crossed his lips. There was such a difference between the person he was now and the one he was around you. He did not want to fail to attend your dinner, he went mad when he was not around you. Yet, he could not turn into somebody else only because now you were part of his life. If you love someone, you learn to love their edges too, right?

Also, everything he was doing now was for you.

"Awesome. This only means there will be some collateral damages" Muzan replied, before shoving his hand into his breast pocket and pulling a phone out to check the time. It would have been foolish bringinghis main device in the area. The police would have reasonably been able to track him down and, frankly, the last thing he needed was to be arraigned on a charge of murder.

Studying the area before attacking had granted him the chance to find a blind spot where the videocameras could not catch even small glimpses of them. Yet, since there seemed to still be people into the building, and he was smart enough to figure that some of them were Slayers, they had to be ready to fight. Bringing with him his most cold-blooded assassins would have surely helped me to get the job done in a matter of seconds.

"Be nimble. Don't toy with your victims. — Muzan said, his plum red eyes darting on the silver-haired man at his left — I'm talking to you, idiot" he remarked, earning a grin from Douma.

His presence alone was enough to irk Muzan. He would have gladly asked Kokushibo to take care of this but, since he could not trust Douma around you, he had no other choice than switch the roles of his bodyguards.

"Can I, at least, kidnap a lady? You know, like a souvenir to remember this glorious night" Douma chimed, causing Nakime to grimace in disgust and Muzan to load up the gun he kept on his belt.

As the raven-haired politician turned to face Douma and pointed the gun at him, the bodyguard knew it was time to shut up. It was not the first time Muzan killed someone. Five bodyguards had been murdered in the last two years, all murdered by the said man.

"Do not give me an excuse to blow your brains out – Muzan deadpanned, locking eyes with Douma before turning to glance briefly at Nakime – Get in position now, both of you" he added shortly.

In a few seconds, the lights into the building they were watching turned down. Kaigaku had finally caused the blackout in the area. A few seconds passed by, before a couple of Slayers ran out of the building and checked the area around the parking lot. Their blades glimmered under the moonlight as their eyes searched for possible threats. They seemed young, probably barely around their early twenties. It was clear that they were no match for the two Moons ready to strike them down. They waited in the darkenss, until the taller one noticed the shiny car parked on the side of the road.

"Fox, that car doesn't belong to any of us" he pointed out, his turquoise eyes widening even so slightly in the futile attempt to catch some details that coukd have helped him to figure out what was going on. However, they were too far for that and they ventured down the desert street to approach the vehicle.

The other Slayer, the one wearing a white Fox mask with a peculiar scar on it, walked beside his dark-haired colleague. His grip on the hilt of his katana was tight, his knuckles had turned white as they carefully devoured the distance between them and the car. He seemed more tense than the other, as if he was expecting to be attacked at any given chance. Yet, it was not enough to save them.

It happened before they could even realize it. As the taller one got close enough to peek into the opened window of the parked vehicle, a knife was thrown at his back and impaled his right shoulderblade. A wince of pain left his lips as he turned around hastily and slashed at the brunette woman standing a few strides away from him.

"Yuichiro!" the masked slayer yelled out, the blood spilling out from his colleague's wound splattered over his white mask.

Nakime dodged the attack and drew another knife from the suspender on her thigh "Good evening, fellas" she cooed, her red-painted lips curling up in a smile as Douma joined her and unfolded his tessens. He pouted, cocking his head to the side as he let hsi multicolored orbs analyze his opponents outfits.

"Distasteful choice of colors for your suits... The mask is cute, though, but I would love to look my enemy straight in the eye, as I tear him apart. I hope you don't mind it, dear" the Second in Command cheerfully said, before quickly slashing at the mask covering the shorter slayer's visage.

The sound of the two pieces of wood clattering on the dirty ground made the peach-haired guy flinch and his lavander eyes glint in anger. That blow, so fast and precise, could have killed him right on the spot. How was he not able to dodge it? There was no doubt that the two strangers in fornt of them were skilled fighters. They were Moons. They clearly had no chances against them and his mind only screamed for one thing: the urge to protect Makomo and the secretary, Kotoha. They needed to run as far away as possible and to call for someone to help them out.

If they somehow managed to survive.

"Go to call Makomo and Kotoha. Tell them to go, tell Makomo I love her" Fox said through gritted teeth, not even galncing at Yuichiro for a second.

"Sabito, no! If you think I'm going to leave you alone, you're clearly out of your mind" Yuichiro spat, before he coughed up some blood on his hand.

At that sight, Douma smiled brightly and nudged Nakime's ribs with his elbow "Woah, you compromised his lungs! Good job!" he beamed, as the brunette simply twirled the knife between her fingers and threw it at the already wounded slayer, hoping to get it through his heart.

As she aimed for the organ, Sabito's eyes switched on her as he was quick to knock it out of Yuichiro's way with an horizontal slash of his katana.

Nakime sighed "You know, I was doing your friend a favor by stabbing him through his heart. I was saving him all of this sufferings... Nevermind, though" she whispered, as she got ready to throw another knife.

However, a sudden shotgun and the sight of Yuichiro's dead body slumping onto the ground were enough to make her flinch. The bullet had went clean through the slayer's head, killing him right on the spot. While Nakime knew exactly who had fired the gun, Sabito's eyes widened in horror as he knelt down next to his comrade as if shaking his shoulder could bring him back to life. It was pointless. Yuichiro Tokito was dead. A tickle of blood was running down the curve of his nose, contrasting with his pale skin and the glassy eyes now staring into the void. It was over, it was all over.

"Incompetent Moons are a pain in the ass. Worthless, you are worthlesss" Muzan Kibutsuji flatly said, his deep voice piercing their ears before he came to their vision.

Soft whimpers and shaky breaths filled the air, as two women walked slowly in front of him. One of them was younger, her tiny hand hold a broken blade in her hand as her blue eyes serached for Sabito's ones. Her left eyebrow was cut, as if someone had smacked her and, as Muzan kicked her on her back, making her fall face down on the cobblestone, it was pretty clear who had done it. The other one was around her thirties, emerald eyes contrasting with long and dark hair loosened down her small shoulders. She was terrified, tears streaming down her cheeks as she watched the scene before her eyes.

"Muzan Kibutsuji" Sabito hissed, trying to craddle Makomo in his arms, as the tiny girl sobbed in fear and gripped the fabric of her boyfriend's shirt in her little fists.

Muzan gripped the older woman's hair and made her wince in agony, before he shoved her against Douma's chest, as a sign for him to hold her still. The silver-haired man sneered and gladly wrapped his hands around her wrists, holding them tightly behind her back. His breath fanned her earlobe, making the woman shiver in fear.

"What's your name, honey?" Douma whispered, propping his chin over her shoulder.

"Kotoha. Hashibira Kotoha" she merely murmured, squeezing her eyes shut in fear as Muzan loaded his gun again and walked up towards the young couple of slayers, sitting at his feet.

It was their end. No one was going to save them.

"That's right. It's my name. — Muzan replied, pointing his gun at Sabito's head — I've tried to ask them about it, but all they were capable of telling me were pleas for mercy. How pathetic... Tell me, is there someone else in the building?" he coldly asked him, his finger ready to pull the trigger as soon as the slayer had given him the answer he needed.

Sabito held Makomo tightly, tears welling up in his eyes, as he refused to waste his last breath to talk to him. Instead, he pressed his lips against Makomo's temple and closed his eyes.

"I love you. Close your eyes" he whispered softly.

Two shotguns filled the air, some bids flying away from the brench of a nearby tree as Kotoha almost fell on her knees. She knew she would have been the next, her heart was thrumming in her chest in anticipation as thanked the God for what had happened that morning.

If Inosuke had not changed his shift with Yuichiro, the young boy laying on her ground would have been her son.

"Nakime. You know what to do. A 'K' on her left cheek, now. Hurry up" Muzan ordered his Fourth in Command as Douma gripped Kotoha's jaw to hold her head firmly.

Terror filled her eyes as she tried to wriggle in Douma's grip, only to earn an amused chuckle from the sadistic Moon behind her "Come on, hold on tight, it's like a tattoo" he crooned, as Nakime pierced her cheek with the cold blade of her knife.

Screams of pain shattered the silent night as the Fourth in Command neatly cut on her flawless skin, dark blood oozing down from the lines forming the shape of a 'K'. The mark of Muzan, his message for Ubuyashiki.

"Please, stop! It hurts! I can't!" Kotoha screetched, as Nakime finally stepped back and Muzan flicked his gaze up to admire her work of art.

There was no sympathy in his eyes as he reached his hand up to tuck a strand of Katoha's hair behind her ear, apathy in his visage as he grasped her hand delicately and pulled her closer to him. He did not care about the pain he was putting her through. She was a tool for him to send a message to his enemy.

"Your role is important, my dear. You will deliver my message to Kagaya Ubuyashiki" Muzan said, holding her gaze as she sobbed uncontrollably.

His words confused her. Was he going to spare her? The dim ounce of hope seemed to twinkly in her eyes as she wiped some blood and tears from her face with the sleeve of her shirt.

"What do you mean? Do I have to call him? Do you want me to be a messanger?" she naively asked him, her shoulder shaking as she tried to collect her breath.

This made him smile faintly. His hand reached for something behind his back, as he made sure her gaze was transfixed on him. Kotoha Hashibira was indeed a sweet woman.

His free hand held up her chin as he spoke out again "Yeah, exactly. You are going to be my messanger, Kotoha. But, you see, I got nothing to tell him. Therefore, my message has be graphic. That is why I do believe in killing the messanger" Muzan reasoned, grasping the handle of the switchblade he had hidden in his back.

Her eyes went round as she shook her head "No! No, please! Why?" she screamed, but the blade through her heart made her choke on her words.

Blood dripped out of her mouth as Muzan stared deeply into her eyes and helped her to lay down onto the ground.

"Because it sends a message" he whispered in her ear, as she twitched a few last times, before life abandoned her body.

Silence swallowed them again, as Muzan grasped the controller and his bodyguards got back into the car. He stared at the building one last time, before hopping into the passenger seat. As Douma began to drive away, Muzan rested his thumb onto the red button and, with a click, the industry exploded. The sound of the explosion felt like music to his ears and he watched the smoke and flames envelope it through the rear view mirror.

♚

"He stood me up. He fucking stood me up" you slurred, eyes wide open as you stared up at Kokushibo in pure shock. You could not believe Muzan had cancelled your dinner through a stupid message.

Now, all dolled up and drunk, you were talking to his First in Command about how pathetic and stupid you felt for not having got back at him for that.

"As if buying me some Valentino dress and these stupid shoes... Argh, I have even forgotten the name of their brand" you ranted, dipping your head between your arms as you closed your eyes in irritation. You had drunk too much, that was evident, and now an exhaspered Kokushibo was forced to raise from him chair and help you to stand up.

"I think it's time to go home. – he lowly said, clearing his throat to catch your attention — And the brand of your shoes is Louboutin" he added, making you quirk up your eyebrows and smile up at him.

"Aw, that's so cute, you remembered the brand for me! Yeah, let's go home! Let's go! I wanna set his stupid collections of ancient tapestries on fire!" she chimed, giggling as the stoic man's ears turned pink for the embarrassment.

The restaurant was empty at that hour. You were the last two guests left in here, since you had kept on ordering bottle after bottle to drown your anger and sadness into expensive wine. Actually, all that you felt now was a suffocating dissatisfaction. You could barely stand on your heels and you clung to Kokushibo's arm as a koala.

As you almost toppled down a table, the man exhaled through his nostrils and hauled you over his shoulder making you squeak out in surprise.

"Coconut! Coconut, let me down! I can perfectly walk!" you protested, blushing as the waiters stared at you two with uncomfortable expressions plastered over their faces. They had recognized you, obviously, but Kokushibo had paid them enough to keep their mouths shut about this little stunt you had pulled.

"Stop calling me that" Kokushibo said, walking through the exit and up to his car. Just a little longer, he had to try not to strangle you for a little longer.

However, you were far from being done. Annoying Kokushibo was an art you had crafted since the first day you two crossed paths. It was in your veins, you were born for it.

"Oh, I understand! You were just looking for an excuse to stare at my ass, were you not?!" you taunted him, bursting out laughing for your own stupid joke.

"I suggest you to shut up" he warned you in a stern tone.

"I suggest you to take that broom out of your ass".

It was enough. He wanted to choke the life out of you, yet you were absolutely cute at times. Now, now as you were pestering him, you were hilarious too and he could not take it anymore. You were ready to say something else, he felt the muscles of your abdomen flex over his shoulder as you took a deep breath. This time, though, you were going to swallow your shallow speeches.

You did not process it, all you knew was that you found yourself settled onto the hood of his car and his maroon eyes bored into yours for a split second. What followed was his hand grasping your jaw and his mouth capturing yours in a passionate kiss that made your toes curl into your shoes.

It lasted a few seconds, your hands settled on each side of you for balance as his tongue explored your mouth. You were drunk, really, but sober enough to feel how passionate he was.

"Will you shut up for the rest of ride?" he breathed out, as the kiss broke.

Of course you were going to shut up.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! I have finally uploaded this chapter on Tumblr too. One more part and I will be finally get the perfect balance again. This chapter was rather dark and I am well-aware of it, but the story is supposed to be like that. It’s finally time to show some action, after all. Hopefully, I will bless you with some fluff in a while… Or so I believe!

As per usual, likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreaciated!

Until next, x o x o

Tags: @mrskokushibo @ladytamayolover @tired-writer04 @hjjks @kakuchosbff @yazzzmints @bookandstar @z3r0art @cherrymanhuas @kazuhaslvt @selenenyx0124 @infinitedilf @yunixkill @shigarakithings @i-loveyou013 @yoriichi-second-wife @sunaswife @lucikittyxoxo @heartsforjeongin @ishmealmendes @wondermilka @dangerousdreamkitty @crazycatlddy

#muzan x reader #muzan x y/n #kibutsuji muzan x reader #kokushibo x you #kokushibo x reader #muzan kibutsuji x reader #douma x reader #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer x reader #nakime #nakime x reader #upper moon two #upper moon one #upper moons x reader

119 notes · View notes

manicplank · 1 month

Note

Got any angst about the pt cast?

Of course, I do.

Peppino: He was bullied as a child/teenager and developed horrible social anxiety and depression from it. He also has generalized anxiety disorder. He's not necessarily estranged from his family, but he doesn't communicate with them a lot. This has caused tension to rise as his family began to think he doesn't love them. His failing business only adds to his crippling anxiety. He holds it against himself and is convinced that he's a failure.

Gustavo: I've said it a million times, but he's a divorced dad with minimal custody rights. He feels guilty for it. The divorce was super hard on him and still hurts. He was also very lonely at home before he got Brick. Other than that, he's a pretty jolly guy.

Mr. Stick: He's a lonely guy. His social skills aren't the best, and he's very condescending. His gambling problem has actually caused him great losses in life. He has maybe one friend (Burton). Despite being a con man, he's very gullible.

Pepperman: His narcissistic tendencies have cause many relationships to peril. Family, friends, and even partners had grown tired of his antics. He spends most of his time on his art and forgets to take care of himself. He's quite lonely.

The Vigilante: He doesn't have any family left. His maw and paw died early in his life after they were killed by outlaws. This is what made him decide to become The Vigilante. His peepaw, John E. Cheese, raised him. After he passed, The Vigilante had nobody but the ghost of him. He's become very lonely and is slightly depressed.

The Noise: He has an absent father who he resents for not being there. He grew up as a chaotic AuDHD child with a mother who didn't know how to handle it. He was bullied a lot. He's very paranoid that people will use him for money and fame, which is why he doesn't really have any friends other than Noisette. He's very angry and depressed underneath that silly persona. His social skills aren't great, either.

Noisette: She's incredibly insecure when it comes to criticism. She got bullied a lot in school for her poor social skills. Like Noise, she's also AuDHD, but her parents were educated and raised her well. She holds herself to modern beauty standards and occasionally gets insecure of her appearance.

Fake Peppino: He was met with violence and fear very early in life as he was constantly being hunted down by others in the tower (piggy police, The Vigilante). People were afraid of him, and it made him sad about himself. [Fic spoiler] Bruno was a great friend to him, but now he's gone. Until Peppino arrived, he felt that he was unlovable. Pizzahead is fine but can get too rough when it comes to correcting behavior.

Pizzahead: His poor social skills and onsessive behaviors have caused him to suffer greatly in his social life. He's very lonely and pushes most people away. He snapped at a certain point and went completely insane. He's a psychopathic maniac. He buries himself in work most of the time to avoid his feelings.

Pillar John: [Fic spoilers] John was originally a maintenance man in the tower. He was an incredible fixer and was good friends with Pizzahead. The tower was old and falling apart. Once Pizzahead realized there was no fixing it, he created a crazy contraption and trapped John in the top floor of the tower, causing the pillars in each level to support the tower's stability. Because of this, John developed a horrible depression after having a happy life.

Gerome: Gerome had somewhat of a tough upbringing. His mom and dad got divorced when he was young. His dad wasn't a great person. He was depressed as a kid because he felt the divorce was his fault. When his mom met John's father, things changed drastically, especially when John was born. At first, he didn't like John or his father. Once he saw how happy his mom was, he opened up and became close to John and his dad. Despite this, the depression still haunts Gerome to this day. Gerome even finds himself feeling a bit guilty over the tower situation.

#pizza tower #noise #the noise #headcanon #noisette #pizzahead #peppino #peppino spaghetti #fake peppino #pepperman #the vigilante #mr. stick #pillar john #pizza tower gerome #pizza tower gustavo

55 notes · View notes

beautifuldisaster88 · 3 months

Text

Dating Rafe Cameron.

Ways that you make him different:

• Rafe is still the same unhinged psychopath you fell in love with. He still gets extremely angry and violent, but since you came into his life, his precious angel, you're the only person who can calm him down.

• Rafe smiles more with you then he has his entire life. Every time he looks at you; he smiles. When he hears your voice or laughter; he smiles. When your name is mentioned; he smiles. He smiles just thinking about you, or if he sees something that reminds him of you.

• For the first time in his life, Rafe finally fully trusts someone, and that someone is you. He literally trusts you with his life.

• Rafe refused to get clean from cocaine for anyone. That was until he saw the look in your eyes the first time you walked in on him snorting white lines. He never wanted to hurt you or for you to be disappointed in him, so he fights like hell to get clean. For you.

• Rafe was never much of an affectionate guy and the only way a girl could get him to cuddle was if he was coked out of his mind and drunk. With you, it's different. When you two are alone, he gets clingy. Always wanting you on his lap or cuddled up against him. He always always gives you millions of small kisses throughout the day.

• He only has eyes for you. Since you two started dating, he doesn't even notice other girls. In his eyes, you're the only woman in the world. A literal goddess and nobody could ever compare to you.

• This man would spoil you rotten! Only the most expensive gifts, vacations, jewelry, you name it. If it reminds him of you, he buys it. He always spoils you with affection.

• Spends less time with Topper and Kelce. While they still have their weekly golf get togethers at the country club, Rafe prefers to spend time with you. He literally gets moody the second he's away from you, and can't wait to have you back in his arms.

• While he's still violent, he has never hit you and never will. Not his angel. He would never forgive himself if he ever hurt you.

• He's constantly bragging about you to everyone, showing off your pictures and being proud as fuck to call you his.

• Rafe adores watching you with kids and babies. You changed his mind about having kids and he cannot wait to start a family with you. He vowed to himself that he would be nothing like Ward and he would love his children unconditionally and give them the world.

• Rafe only has one soft spot, one weakness; you.

Toxic side of dating Rafe:

• Rafe is extremely possessive when it comes to you. He has no problem causing a scene if he sees some asshole hitting on you, or even trying to talk to you. Rafe will walk right up to you, grab you by the throat and make out with you right in front of whatever guy even looks at you.

• His jealousy is ridiculous. He trusts you, but he doesn't trust other guys, or girls for that matter. He's constantly asking who's going to be there if you tell him you're hanging out with friends, or asking who the fuck the guy is that was talking to you, making sure to remind you who you belong to.

• With his anger issues and violent tendencies, you constantly have to deal with him getting into fights, punching holes in walls, slamming shit around, breaking things, screaming, yelling, cussing. It often results in you having to clean him up, whether it be bloody knuckles or a bloody nose or busted lip. You've learned to keep the first-aid kit fully stocked.

• Rafe loves you more than anything, but that doesn't mean that you guys don't constantly fight and argue about the most petty and stupidest things. He always feels like shit afterwards, and continually apologizes, usually resulting in him breaking down sobbing in your arms and begging you not to leave him, even though you would never leave Rafe.

• In the beginning of the relationship Rafe cheated on you multiple times, and he will never forgive himself for it, even though you forgave him.

• Rafe is also extremely overprotective of you, not wanting to share you with anyone, especially those lowlife Pogues that you call friends. He swears that there was a mistake when you were born into the Pogue Life, swearing up and down that you're meant to be a Kook.

• Rafe tracks your location on your phone and car, always needing to know where you are. That way if anything happens, he can be there in the blink of an eye, not to mention he can keep an eye on you and make sure no guys try to hit on you.

• Rafe will legit pout like a toddler when you tell him that you're going out with friends, even if it's only for an hour. If he had it his way you would never leave his sight.

Cute little things he does:

• Rafe loves to pamper you. He'll run you a bubble bath, wash your hair and body, dry you off, apply lotion all over your body, dress you and brush your hair. He even paints your toenails for you and does face masks with you.

• Any time Rafe goes to the store, he always comes home with bags full of your favorite snacks. He goes overboard when it's that time of the month for you, which he spoils you and takes care of you.

•Rafe is big on aftercare, something he's only done with you.

• He leaves cute little love notes all over the house for you to find.

• Rafe loves to cook for you. He actually learned to cook just for you and his cooking is your absolute favorite.

• Rafe knows every little detail about you and can tell when you're angry, upset, uncomfortable, sleepy, hungry, you name it. He knows his angel like the back of his hand.

•He plans romantic date nights for the two of you, twice a week, sometimes more. He always goes all out for your dates.

• This man CANNOT sleep without you in his arms. When he went on a weekend boys trip, Topper kept sending you Snaps of Rafe pouting. He even sent one of Rafe laying in bed with his arms crossed, looking like a lost and pissy puppy. All because he didn't have you by his side.

•Rafe were a gold chain around his neck, with a gold pendant that has your initials on it and he NEVER takes it off. He even wrote in his Will that he was to be buried with the necklace. You were a matching one with his initials. You had them made for your guy's one year anniversary. Four years later and neither one of you have ever taken them off.

• Rafe got your name tattooed on his chest, right above his heart. He showed everyone he knew after he first got it.

#rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #rafe obx #pov #obx #drew starkey #that should be me

98 notes · View notes

snowjanuscentral · 4 months

Note

Omg there so much potential Even sejanus reading into things that aren’t there and like thinking Coriolanus likes him more than he actually does and making a romantic move on avox corio lol

Literally I have so many thoughts about Avox!Coriolanus, I have a fic outline but i'm gonna treat you to some headcanons, i'm Not Okay about this

Setting:

(In this au, Gaul is even more psychopathic than she is in the book - she cares so deeply about the perpetual state of war, and a twisted fairness in the games, that she perceives Coriolanus' actions as unforgiveable, and effectively discards him. She can always find another star pupil to take under her wing)

Coriolanus is accused of being a traitor to the Capitol due to his aiding of Lucy Gray in the games. To preserve the sanctity of the games, Lucy Gray is pardoned, as she has been 'manipulated' by Snow's evil rebel tendencies. In reality, she takes a deal to return to District Twelve by throwing Coriolanus under the bus.

The footage of Coriolanus attempting to rescue Sejanus from the arena is heavily edited to make it appear as though Coriolanus snuck into the arena and killed Bobbin to give Lucy Gray an unfair advantage.

Sejanus' role in the arena break-in is forgiven due to Strabo making a sizeable donation to the games.

The Snow family reputation is irrevocably destroyed - thankfully, the Capitol public holds great pity for Tigris and the Grandma'am, as they appear to be such fragile and pathetic creatures.

Plot Points In My Brain That Will Not Leave Me Alone

Coriolanus is utterly broken by the whole situation. Even when he was almost destitute, he could rely on his wit, charisma, manipulations and lies to get him out of trouble. That has all been stripped away. His own selfishness and hunger has ruined everything

Mr and Mrs Plinth are offered Coriolanus by Dr Gaul, and they agree to take him, albeit for different reasons; Strabo, to teach Sejanus the lesson he still hasn't learned about the Capitol, and Mrs Plinth, to try and give Coriolanus an easier life than he would experience elsewhere. They keep this acquisition to themselves.

Coriolanus stays in a room at the end of the servants quarters. In the first week, he doesn't come out of his tiny box room. Sejanus visits him on that first night, but Coriolanus doesn't even acknowledge his presence.

There are other Avoxes in the Plinth household, of course, but they hardly interact with Coryo. He isn't obedient, he isn't anything bar borderline catatonic, and they've learned the hard way what that leads to.

Eventually Coriolanus is coaxed out into the greater Plinth residence, and Sejanus treats him nicely enough, but Coryo cannot bring himself to eat. It's too painful on his throat, the food given to him far too rich, Sejanus far too sweet. He cries.

They settle into a new normal, but Coriolanus struggles to pick up the sign language the avoxes use. Not that Sejanus would understand it. Sejanus procures a notepad and pen for Coriolanus to write out his thoughts. It is confiscated by Strabo.

Sejanus misinterprets Coriolanus' eventual acquiescence to his circumstances as comfort. He thinks Coriolanus is becoming content in his company; instead, he has allowed the overwhelm to consume him. Coriolanus feels safer in Sejanus' presence, but not safe.

Coriolanus has nightmares often, and sleeps poorly. It is late one night in Sejanus' room, and he is reading a book, Sejanus reading out the words. They are sitting next to each other, and Coriolanus tires, eventually nodding off with his head on Sejanus' shoulder.

Sejanus begins to enjoy having Coriolanus at his beck and call, just as Coriolanus becomes accustomed to following orders.

It is another late night when Sejanus' hands begin to wander. It is not something Coriolanus has anticipated. He lets it happen anyway.

(I literally have so many thoughts and feelings, I WILL WRITE THIS FIC I PROMISE!!)

#snowjanus #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas fanfiction #coriolanus snow #sejanus plinth #tw: dubcon #ask #headcanon #fic idea #Avox!Coriolanus

63 notes · View notes

asoiafsworld · 2 years

Text

STAND BY ME.

pairing; aemond targaryen x original female character (alysanne velaryon)

summary; alysanne velaryon, jacaerys velaryon's twin sister and daughter to queen rhaenyra targaryen, has been betrothed to aemond targaryen since she was a little girl and has loved him since then too. king viserys dies however and war breaks out between their families. when alysanne learns of her brother's death caused by the man she loves, she does the only right thing.

warnings; hotd 1x10 spoilers, mentions of stillbirth, mentions and descriptions of self harm, major character death, very sad and painful, alysanne has bad anger issues, and she has psychopathic tendencies, my oc is really a emotional rollercoaster, blood, violence, revenge, sad ending

author's note; this fic is very painful to read at times so i just want to warn once more and its not all about her relationship with aemond, theres a lot of stuff about alysanne with her family too. i was going to make this a reader imagine but i felt that an oc would suit this more since its so angsty and gets pretty violent, i hope u guys still enjoy <3 jacaerys and alysanne are aged up here and are both only two years younger than aemond (jace and alysanne are 18, aemond is 20) and alysanne referrs to daemon as her father but hes not. also i imagine a young jodie comer as alysanne but u can imagine whoever u want! and everything that is written in cursive is a flashback an anything that is only in bold is alysanne's thoughts!! pls tell me what u guys think

masterlist

⊱ ───────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ───────── ⊰

"Shh! We need to be quiet!"

Aemond tried to look at her as sternly as possible but couldn't hold on to his giggle as she looked at him as apologetically and sweetly as she could. Before he could think any longer about how beautiful she looked as only the fire in the dungeons illuminated her face, he grabbed her hand and went further down the stairs to the underground room where the skull of Balerion the Black Dread was kept.

Alysanne gasped at the sight and was sure she had never seen a head this big from the dragons that lived still. She was small, a growing girl of four and ten and was definitely dwarfed even more as she stood in front of the skull of a creature that lived not too long ago.

"What a huge skull... He must have crushed people just by laying his head on them! Do you think Vhagar will be so big too one day?"

Aemond smiled at her and cupped her cheek with one hand, softly brushing his thumb over her temple.

"I know she will. And when she is that big, you will be in the skies with her, with me. Right by my side where you belong."

Alysanne smiled shyly, her cheeks red from how sweetly he was holding her and looking at her. She had liked Aemond for so long even though their families were so opposed to each other. To their luck, her grandfather, King Viserys announced on Aemond's eight nameday that they would be betrothed and no one else was delighted except the two of them. She remembered her mother pleading with her father to still wait and to not rush into betrothals and Queen Alicent had said the same but the King would hear none of it. He saw how the two of them spent most of their time with each other after all.

Aemond was closer to her now, his breath on her lips, his hand going from her cheek to holding the back of her head in place. His forehead found its place on hers and even though he had only one eye, it stared at her in intensity and adoration.

"You look beautiful like this... Just the fire that gives me a sight of your incredible, gorgeous face. How do I deserve a betrothed like you? Tell me, what Gods did I please for you to be mine?"

She blushed even more at his words, so sweet and unrelenting in making her see that she was the most beautiful woman that ever lived, in his eyes. She brought up her hand to his cheek, the one that bared his scar. She softly admired how brave it made him look, how it proved that he was the bravest warrior of them all with the scar to prove it.

"You deserve it by simply being you, Aemond. I am yours and you are mine and in due time, we will marry and it will be official. I will be yours as you are mine, now and always."

His heart clenched at her words and he pressed the softest of kisses on her lips, his touch as gentle as if he was holding a flower... His little flower, forever his.

Alysanne's heart feels as it's ripped apart in two. She is confused, she is angry, she is sad but does not know at what or whom. The gods are playing tricks on us, she thinks as she helps her mother in wrapping up her dead little sister. Cruel and selfish tricks.

It does not make sense to her, none of it. Her grandsire dies, the Greens crown a usurper and tell everyone a lie, that the King had wished for Aegon to be King in his last breath and Alysanne and her family sit at Dragonstone, unbeknownst of the horrors that were going on in the capital. She does not understand it, none of it. Does not understand why Aemond is letting them do this, letting them crown anyone else other than her mother... He could never marry Alysanne like this.

Her hands are covered in blood, in her dead sister's and mother's from the wrapping. She does not wish to wash it off, wants to keep it on her hands, fly to King's Landing at this moment and present her bloodied hands to the Queen Dowager and her father. Look at what you have done, she wants to scream. She wants to take the bundled up baby on the table and present it to them, make the bitch of a Queen look at it. Look at how you've killed my sister. My little Visenya.

"Alysanne." She hears her mother's voice clear up the fog of anger in her mind and wonders how many times she had called her already. The princess of eight and ten looks up at her mother and sees the grief and sorrow in her eyes but mostly concern. "My darling, do not let your anger take you over again, it is unneeded at this moment. Come, wash the blood of. We need to... do the burning."

"I do not wish to wash my blood off, mother. I want to smear it in her face and tell her that she deserves death for what she has done. Letting grandsire rot in his place for days before telling anyone he was even dead, killing my sister in cold blood and putting Aegon on the throne. She will pay for this... she will."

Rhaenyra knows she can say nothing to sway her mind at the moment, her only daughter's bloodlust and want for revenge mirroring something that Daemon would probably be proud of. She wonders when this happened, wonders when her own daughter became such a hardened woman, when the love she had for her family turned into protectiveness and when that turned into anger. No one except for Rhaenyra knows that everything Alysanne does is out of love for her family, not even Jacaerys who is the girl's own twin realizes this. She wonders if that anger will be reflected at Aemond too, the only person she holds any love for outside of her family. Alysanne has not uttered a single word of him ever since Rhaenys told them of what had happened.

Alysanne listens to her all the same because she could not be mad at her mother, the woman who loves her so much and lost everything. She may be a bloodthirsty, angry woman but she is still her mother's child, nothing changes that, ever. So she washes the blood off of herself, gets dressed in an all black dress and attends her sister's funeral. She stands next to her brothers and her face remains stone cold but a few tears slip past her cheeks as her sister's tiny, small body burns. She has to breathe in and out through her nose to control her emotions from overboiling and does not know what would happen if she could not control herself.

They stole my mother's crown and her throne. They stole her and my brother's birthright. They stole me of my sweet sister... And for that, the Hightowers will burn, she thinks. Otto, Alicent, Aegon. Otto, Alicent, Aegon. Otto, Alicent, Aegon.

She repeats their names in her head. She would not kill Helaena, the sister wife of the usurper had done no harm to her or her family, just like Aegon's children.

She does not think of Aemond, of what will happen to him, of what she will do about him... or what her father will do to him. She wonders if he's trying to find an excuse in his head for betraying her like this, if he tells himself that him and his brother will make sure her family will be gone before long and force her to marry him... But that is not Aemond's way.

She can not think of Aemond. She does not want to think of Aemond. She still loves Aemond.

They stood on opposing sides of the throne room, so close yet so far away. Aemond studied her closely, how much taller she had grown, how her beauty could not match that of a single lady in the Seven Kingdoms. The sun was she to him, feeling as if he could stand and live with her in his presence. The air was she to him, needing her to breathe and to calm himself down when his mind was plagued by his demons once more. Life was she to him, something worth fighting for and the sole reason he put up with her rather annoying family.

Alysanne could tell that her betrothed had eyes for no one but her, he was not listening to the Hand when he sat the throne, nor did he look away from her when the King marched up to his throne and settled matters. She only stole a few glances at him but had to hide her smile at the way he did not stop staring at her all the same. To him, none of what was happening mattered... He only cared about meeting his lovely betrothed again.

To her however, it was not so unimportant. Her brother's legitimacy was being questioned and ever since the accident at Driftmark where her brother had taken her betrothed's eye, tensions were as high as ever between the two families. She remembered that night, when she was called upon from her bed and had to look at her brothers' bloodied faces and wondered how foolish they could have been to do something like that. If she thought back on it, it was probably the moment that made her into the cold, hardened woman that she became over the years, realizing that no one but her family would be there for her, care for her and protect her... and she strived to do the same for them.

Aemond only ripped his eyes away from her when Daemon sliced Dark Sister through Vaemond, a move that shocked most people in the throne room. She was glad to see him gone and dead for calling her brothers bastards and her mother a whore... he deserved it.

Everyone in the throne room left as the matter was settled. Lucerys would inherit Driftmark as was his birthright and the young princess was glad of it because she would not have the Hightower snakes get their way, no matter what it was.

She had been told that the King had requested a dinner with the entire family and she wondered how well that would pass but Alysanne got ready for it nonetheless. She wore a beautiful black and red gown, accentuated with the dragon sigil of her mother's house that she had always been proud of. After the handmaidens had left, there was a knock on the door and when she turned around, it was Aemond entering through the door.

She looked at him with wide eyes and walked up to him, pulling him into the room by his arm and closing the doors before anyone else could see him. Her mind was reeling from where she had touched Aemond's skin and she hoped that the effect he had on her was not so apparent to him as she turned around. But Aemond clearly did not care for not showing his feelings as he caged her against the door, so close to her again like the first and last time they kissed. His hand came up to hold her chin and made her look up at him and oh, how the touch burned under his gentle fingers.

"Tell me, my little flower, has anything changed between us?" Alysanne knew that he did not wish to show his insecurity to her but it was reflected in his voice all the same, sounding scared of her feelings not being the same as they were before. She knew that he still very clearly felt just like four years ago when they had last seen each other, his love just as she always knew it... Resistant, powerful and undying.

"Well, I have changed in the years since we last met. I am a woman grown now, did you know? My nameday was a few moons ago. I have grown colder, harder and stronger in every way. It may be that even my heart has turned to ice for I do not wish for anyone in my company except the people I love." Alysanne leaned closer to him, their lips almost touching, the distance between them able to be closed in less than a second.

"But whatever part of my heart holds it's love for you has clearly not turned into ice... because I look at you and see you standing in front of me so closely, see you looking at me like you'll never love someone like you'll love me. And I realize that yes, I do love you still, have loved you for so many years and might never love anyone else except for you. I do not believe I could ever be with another man."

Aemond did not show it but she saw the relief take over his body, his shoulders releasing it's tension and he sighed deeply, closed his eye and leaned his forehead against hers. She placed a small, featherlight kiss on his lips and furrowed her eyebrows at how little it did to satisfy her. She tried to press her lips to his again but he held her back with a thumb on her lips and his eye opened again, looking at her with hunger and resistance.

"I wish to kiss you until you are breathless and beg me for more but we can not, my love. If we do, I could not stop and control myself from doing something so sinful that would have our mothers marry us swiftly in the sept tomorrow. Which of course, I would not oppose to but I shall not risk things with you. I want to do it properly, have a feast for us and have everyone in Westeros celebrate our union. With you, I will do things right. You deserve no less, my dragon."

Alysanne hated how her heart swelled at his words, hated how he spoke so gently and softly with her like he had when they were children. When she was a different woman, a girl still, she would have embraced and loved the way he made her feel and how he confessed his love for her and his wish to marry. But as it was, Alysanne was a changed woman and hated that she had so long ago fallen for a man that she was supposed to hate... One day, war would break out and they would be on opposite sides.

She did not have to think about it much longer as Aemond had to leave to get ready for the dinner himself. He pressed a small kiss to her lips that stirred things in her heart that she could not explain, a turmoil of emotions in her heart and mind after every word and every kiss of his lips. She composed herself and decided to visit her sickly grandsire since he had asked her to come see him before they would have dinner when she was there with her mother, father and siblings this morning.

Alysanne always had a special bond with King Viserys. It was widely known that Rhaenyra was his favorite child and that he loved her very dearly and therefore loved her grandchildren as well. When he held Jacaerys and Alysanne for the first time in his arms, he cried and blessed them both, her mother had told her. When she was a child and still lived in the Red Keep, she had often played with him, let him help her learn to read and write. It pained her to see him so weak and in pain but she would still go to see him, simply because she loved him so dearly.

She entered his chambers just as he had seemingly gotten ready dressing with the help of maids and servants. He seemed clearer in his state of mind than he was before, a crooked smile on his lips as he saw her entering. The maids and servants left them and Alysanne sat down next to her grandsire in front of the fire place. He looked at her lovingly and gently grabbed her hand, his grip weak but still full of adoration for his oldest granddaughter.

"My dearest Alysanne, my pride and joy. I know they say that we should not pick favorites, in children or grandchildren... but I think you know that I have loved you so much since you were placed in my arms, as if it was Rhaenyra put in my arms all over again. Because I love you so dearly, I need to ask you this and want to give you a choice, something that I sadly could not do for Rhaenyra."

The King spoke slowly but he still commanded presence even in his weakly state. Alysanne wanted to cry at how he looked, so breakable and ill, as if he could die at this very moment but she continued to listen to him attentively. He looked up with the one eye that was visible and she saw all the love he held for her, just like when she was a little girl.

"Alysanne, please be truthful when you answer me this. Do you love Aemond?"

Alysanne's breath hitched at the question and she felt a lump so heavy in her throat that the words would not come out at first. She knew that the only reason for his question was to possibly confirm a future marriage and maybe even set a loose date for a wedding and knew that if she said no, her grandfather would not hesitate in calling the marriage off. It was his hope for Alysanne to marry Aemond so that an inevitable conflict in the future could be avoided... besides that, Aemond had demanded since Alysanne's most recent nameday to plan the wedding. She knew that if she said no, her parents and brothers would be more than pleased and happy about it. She knew that if she said no, she could avoid having to live with the awful, other side of her family. She knew that if she said no, she would avoid the inner turmoil inside her that told her that she could not love, that she was too cold and unloving for marriage.

"Yes."

Alysanne knew of the dangers that would come if she said yes. She did it anyway.

Alysanne had claimed the Cannibal at the mere age of four and ten to everyone's great surprise. When her, Jace and her younger siblings were born, they had all received dragon eggs from Syrax as their mother wanted her children to have a lifelong bond with their dragons as well. Jace, Luke and Joffrey's eggs all hatched and all three of them, respectively, had Vermax, Arrax and Tyraxes as their bonded dragons. Alysanne's egg however had turned into stone when she was still a babe and in that entire time, Syrax did not hatch more eggs for the young princess to claim.

To be truthful, Alysanne did not care much for having a dragon. The bond and the care for a dragon was not something she deemed herself to have and having three brothers who rode dragons was surely enough in the family. However, after the incident at Driftmark, Alysanne changed her mind about it. She loved Aemond back then, knew he would not hurt her but him having Vhagar would make things difficult for her in the future, she knew that.

She had thought about claiming Sea Smoke whilst she was still at Driftmark then but knew that she needed a dragon that would match Vhagar not just in fiercness but in size. So when she was back at Dragonstone, she tried her luck first with Silverwing, the dragon that ironically belonged to her namesake once before and followed the advice of the Dragonkeepers at Dragonstone. Alysanne had tried to claim her in a duration of many moons but the Dragonkeepers deemed it a hopeless cause. She tried Vermithor next, the largest unclaimed dragon that had been ridden before by the Old King, Jaehaerys I. She tried to claim him for almost a year, sang to him in Valyrian as he liked it, didn't show her fear in front of him. The Dragonkeepers decided to observe her the last time that she went to tell her what she was doing wrong.

"You are too fierce for them, my princess. Dragons can feel our emotions, our feelings and our true ambitions and they bond with whoever they match best with. And I'm sorry to say it, my princess but you are simply too angry for them, even for Vermithor."

She was frustrated at that and wondered how she was ever supposed to have a dragon when she remembered the three wild dragons that still resided on Dragonstone that were never claimed by anyone. Surely, I must be angry enough for them, she thinks. One of them has to be as hateful and angry as me.

The first two wild dragons that she came across in the more abandoned areas of Dragonstone, Grey Ghost and Sheepstealer fled her as soon as she came closer, there was no real chance at getting close to them which disappointed her greatly. She was in all seriousness not considering to approach the Cannibal so she just wanted to leave the dragon be that was feasting on a poor animal just in her line of sight. The beast however had other plans for her, letting off of the dead animal and focusing on her and coming closer at a speed that she did not expect. He stopped right in front of her and his eyes studied her closely, circling her from left to right as if asessing if she was worth to be eaten. She was not scared however and only looked him in his eyes bravely. After a few more minutes, he stopped and gave her a nudge with its big head. From that day on, she understood what was meant with that bond, knew that he had assessed her and let her claim him because she matched his anger

The Cannibal was overall the second largest dragon that still lived but the size difference between this dragon and Vhagar was so small that most people assumed that they were the same size. Besides, the Cannibal was suprisingly quick, in the sky and on the ground which was an advantage against Vhagar who, due to her oldness, had become rather slow.

Neverthless, it was a miracle that the beast had accepted Alysanne as it's first ever rider, Alysanne, who was only four and ten and still a tiny girl, rode the second largest dragon in the world and a wild dragon at that, the first one to tame it. She was of course scolded greatly for it by her mother but Daemon could only look at her proudly.

It was ironic, really. Alysanne was scolded all night by her mother who kept asking her why she did it, why she was so obsessed with having a dragon, one that was impossible to claim and terrifying as well. To prepare for war, she thought. To prepare for a war to defend you and my family. A war I have been preparing for since I was a child.

Holding council is truly a dreadful thing. Counting out who would support their side, who would hold honor their oaths given to her mother many years ago and which dragons could fight for their side.

"My prince, we may be in the lead with dragons but Prince Aemond still possesses the largest dragon alive. It will be a hard task to defeat Vhagar." The other lords around the table seem to agree and she cuts Daemon off before he can reply.

"Leave Vhagar to me, my lord. I'm sure that me and Cannibal can handle her." The table falls into silence at that and she sees from the corners of her eye that her mother and father are not agreed on that statement. The silence is interrupted by Ser Erryk who informs the council that a ship from the Greens had been seen on the shores and the council room is quickly cleared, leaving only Alysanne, Jace and Luke in the room.

She continues to assess the table and what allies they have when Luke places his hand on hers on the table. She looks over at him and sees that he looks concerned for her, his hand soft and warm on hers and so small. She pulls her hand out and places it on top of his, softly brushing her thumb over his. Sadly, her change in personality had also affected her relationships with her brothers. She spent so much time training Cannibal for possible fights with other dragons and herself spent more time into training with a sword as well. Still, she never acts cold towards them, never lashes her anger out at them because she lives for them and for the affection and love she receives from them. Luke still looks concerned but doesn't voice his worries. Instead, Jace does.

"Alysanne... If you mean to 'take care' of Vhagar, you mean to kill her... But for that, you will need to kill Aemond too."

She knew that it was exactly what all the lords around the table had questioned because Aemond's affections and love for his long time betrothed were so well known by everyone in the realm. She sighs deeply and knows deep down in her heart that it rebels at the thought of having to kill her one true love, the one man she loves. She hides her turmoil and problems under a practiced mask and puts on a smile that fools Luke and almost would have fooled Jacaerys. She softly grabs his hand and holds it tightly, needing to feel her twins' presence next to her.

"Don't worry about me, brothers. We aren't officially at war yet but when it comes to it, I will do what I must to defend us and to fight for our mother's and your birthright."

"I may not live for much longer... but I wish for one last thing before I might leave this earth forever." The King looks at Aemond and then at Alysanne at the dinner table with something that she assumed was a smile on his face. She realized then that this was it, that she had sealed her fate forever with the words she had uttered just hours ago in his chambers... She just didn't know that it would happen so soon.

"To mend the estrangement between our families, I have decided that Prince Aemond and Princess Alysanne shall be married to each other swiftly and soon, possibly after Rhaenyra gives birth. Then, we will celebrate the biggest wedding the Seven Kingdoms have ever seen. Then the gods can happily take me away."

The news of the wedding was a shock for everyone at the table and Alysanne swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat for she could feel the stares from both sides. Pretty much everyone either forgot the betrothal or opted to ignore it, knowing it still existed but not truly thinking of what would further happen with it. So to hear the King's words made both of her parents look at her in confusion and shock and Jace was almost uncontrollable with anger, wanting to punch the one eyed Prince right in his face. Before anything further could escalate, Aemond stood up with his cup in his hand, looking right at Alysanne who only had her cold gaze on the table.

"I wish to toast to my betrothed and soon enough, my wife. It has been twelve years since we were engaged and throughout our shared youth, you didn't fail to make me fall in love with you. Every time that I have seen you since only further proves that my love for you never dwindled or disappeared but simply resurfaced when I saw your evergrowing beauty through the years. I have loved you for years and will continue to love you until my dying breath. To You, my love."

Even though Alysanne felt sick at the looks that her family was giving her, she still had a tiny smile on her face and looked at Aemond lovingly, unable to hold her stoic, cold expression any longer. He smiled at her, genuinely and she wished he didn't.

Nothing in this world was more difficult for Alysanne than loving Aemond Targaryen.

Her father is furious as he comes back from their meeting with Otto Hightower, her mother as unreadable as ever. Alysanne thinks it was a good idea that she did not come for she would have ripped him apart, whether her mother commanded otherwise or not. The Council is only reconvened for a few moments before everyone is told to leave the room except for Alysanne, Jacaerys and Lucerys. The oldest daughter watches Daemon walk up and down the fireplace as he thinks hard about something she does not know. Her mother is across from her on the other side of the table, her brothers are next to her.

"Otto Hightower also mentioned your promised betrothal to Aemond. He said that we should go through with it and that it would mend the drift between our families and prevent war."

Alysanne's mind reels as she thinks about those words and wonders if a simple marriage between a second son and an eldest daughter would really mend anything... her mind immediately answers her, clear and aggressive. She does not believe she can marry Aemond with how he had betrayed her. Suddenly, Daemon turns around and looks at Alysanne, almost menacingly.

"If you had never said a single word to my brother no one would care for this stupid betrothal anymore. But you had to go through with it, didn't you? Why, because you love Aemond so much? Because you wanted to be with him? I am happy to know that you never will. You were stupid to think that you could ever marry him when you know the positions our families stand at. I don't know if you even care about your family when you were willing to marry your own enemy."

His fury is one that she had not ever seen directed at her and his words sting, just like he wants them to. Daemon has been a father to Alysanne ever since he had married her mother and he had never said anything so vile and hurtful to her. Her mother looks at him in a certain way that is silently trying to tell him to stop, to tone it down but he does not listen and keeps staring at her with anger that makes her furious in return.

"Yes, I know it was stupid, of course I knew! I knew what could happen, what the dangers were to wanting to marry him but believe it or not, at some point, I did love him. It was stupid and I let him love me and that was even stupider. But don't ever tell me that I do not care for this family, Daemon. Do not act as if that is true when you know it isn't."

"How would I know? You can not even outright say that you will kill him when you eventually face him and Vhagar with Cannibal! No, I do not believe you care for your family, Alysanne, not with the way you behave."

She sees her mother's mouth form words, something that looks like she's saying stop but it is too late for Alysanne is as angry and mad as anyone could ever be. She's hurt, she's sad, she's furious. In this moment, she feels like driving a sword through Daemon's chest.

"You liar! I have always cared for my family! Every single moment of my life, I have wanted to protect my family! Ever since Aemond lost his eye at Driftmark I have known and understood the consequences of the separation between our families. Why do you think I wanted a dragon the moment we got back? Why do you think I spent two years trying to claim and bond to dragons? Why do you think that, out of all the wild dragons, I claimed Cannibal? Because I knew none of the other ones stood a chance against Vhagar! Why do you think I have been obsessed with learning how to fight with a sword? Why do you think I always worry about where my brothers and sisters are? Because I have been preparing for this war since I was a child! I have been scared of it, of what would happen to my family and about what would happen to Aemond, yes, I worried over him because I love him. But don't ever tell me that I do not care for my family when I know deep down in my heart that I would kill Aemond the moment I get my hands on him. Don't ever make assumptions and accusations like that ever again, Daemon."

Alysanne is screaming at him in fury and her hands are shaking from how angry she feels. She starts crying at some point too but she does not care and later on realizes that confessing all her insecurities and worries to her family is an awful thing. Her grip on the table makes her feel like it will break apart soon and she feels like she will break apart in a similar way. She knows her brothers are staring at her in shock next to her, her mother looks at her with concern and her father remains unreadable. Before anything else can be said, she storms away from the painted table and out of the room, furiously wiping her tears away as if they were poison to her.

She hears her mother calling after her but no one follows her which she deems as good. It's good, she should be alone. She loves to be alone. She needs to be alone. She does not want to be alone.

Anger and sadness rage inside her in a tandem and she keeps having to stop herself from throwing a punch at the wall just so she would be rid of this agonizing feeling. She hears a distant roar that echoes out, Cannibal feeling her emotions through the bond and most likely trying to pick a fight with one of the other dragons now. With this fury inside her and Cannibal, she thinks she could burn King's Landing down at this very moment.

She walks back to her chambers quickly to prevent herself from actually going to Cannibal's nest and take off with him. Once she is inside her room, she practices the calming breathing techniques that the Maestar had taught her. Breathe in, hold, breathe out. Breathe in, hold, breathe out.

She feels like it works although she is never so sure because her rage never truly leaves her, only retreats and waits to come back in the worst possible times. She walks around in her room, closing her eyes and wills herself to be normal, be normal, be fucking normal.

She hears the door open behind her and it's Jace. She does not say anything as he comes closer to her and stops right in front of her, his face etched in concern and love. She wonders what he possibly could love about her. He closes the distance between them and takes her in his arms, holding her close and hugging her tightly like he used to when they were small. She hugs him back and wonders how long it has been since she hugged her own twin because her heart aches at how much she missed this. Her face is buried in his neck and she smells his scent on him, undeniably her twin. She wishes she would cry in his arms and tell him that she's sorry but she doesn't.

He breaks away from their hug and stares into her eyes. She wonders if he can see how broken she truly is, how incredibly awful and terrible she is at her core but she does not think of it, not now. Maybe in the dead of the night under the covers when she can cry herself to sleep. She takes Jacaerys's face into her hands and hopes to make him understand how she feels.

"Everything I have done... Claiming Cannibal, learning how to fight, closing myself off to anyone who is not my family... I have done this for mother and for her birthright because I knew that someday, we would go to war and have to fight for it and we have arrived at that day. But I want you to know that by extension, I do not only do this for mother but for you too. I believe in you, Jacaerys. Your reign over the Kingdom will be peaceful and good because you are a kind man and have learned all your life how to rule, unlike Aegon. I will breathe, live and die to put mother and you on the Iron Throne. I swear by this, nothing will ever change that, not even Aemond."

Alysanne sees his eyes gather with tears and she wonders if her brother knows that she would really do anything for him to have his birthright, which was promised to him all his life. His hands hold her wrists and his tears fall as if a waterfall had opened and she tries to control her emotions so she won't cry. He is taller than her but she goes up on her toes and plants a soft kiss on his forehead and wipes the tears from his face. She holds onto him so dearly, so tightly because she's scared of losing him, scared of what will happen during the war. People die so quickly and easily and her heart aches at the thought of having to lose a single person in her family... Mother, Father, Jace, Luke, Joffrey, Baela, Rhaena, Aegon, Viserys. Nothing can happen to them. Nothing, not ever.

"I will make sure you will sit on the throne after our mother, trust this, Jace. I will forever be by your side."

"I know you are worried about our families but please, set it aside for now. I just want to be with you and not worry about their stupid problems for once."

Alysanne continued to stare into the fireplace, hoping for an answer to her worries and fears. She basked in the closeness she was enjoying with Aemond, his arm around her and her head on his shoulder, leaning onto him. She played with the string of his shirt as she contemplated on anything and everything, whatever that was.

"The reason I worry is because they hate each other. I don't know how this will work out... But at least it is set in stone now. Only a few moons until we are to be married... It doesn't feel real."

His hand was so gentle as it went through her hair, so loving and caring, attributes that no one would ever think of Aemond. No one but Alysanne. She wondered if she was cursed for it in the end, if her love for Aemond would be ill-placed and she wanted to forget about it just now. She was in the arms of the man she loved, a man she maybe should not be marrying but she could worry about that later. She broke herself away from her cozy place only to sit on his lap, her legs on either side of his body and she looked at him with nothing but love. He looked down at where Alysanne was sitting on his thigh and looked back up again, the smallest smile on his lips.

Alysanne reached up and took the eyepatch off to reveal the beautiful blue sapphire that was in the place of his eye. She brushed over his scarred cheek and studied his hidden eye closely, Aemond was not phased by this in any way. He liked that Alysanne did not feel uncomfortable about seeing him without the eyepatch and his heart clenched once more at how carefully she was touching him. She was everything to him, his beautiful Alysanne, his perfect girl, the sun to his moon. He wished to have her in his arms forever like this. She studied the years old scar as if it would rip open and tell her all of Aemond's secrets and thoughts.

"Don't worry. I'll get back at your brother for this one day."

She glared at him but didn't say anything since he laughed right after and it made her heart skip. He brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear and held one side of her face with his hand. He knew that many thought of her as a brute, cold woman but she was never like that to him, always so soft and gentle and he wished he could keep her right here forever, in his arms, until the world crashed and burned around them.

He knew it would not bother them. They would be happy together, for the rest of their days.

Alysanne hates it, she lets everyone know by making a show of protesting it. She tells her mother that it's foolish to send Jacaerys and Lucerys away to be messengers, that the ravens would be enough, that she could go to the Vale, Winterfell and Storm's End to deliver the messages on Cannibal. Her mother immediately renounces that idea, telling her that sending Cannibal and her would send the wrong message to these lords. She would remain at Dragonstone with her and father to continue plans and be present at the council.

The nervousness strikes her, her worry for her brothers immense and unrelenting. She stands by their dragons as they swear to not act as warriors on their journeys but as messengers. Alysanne knows they will be fine because they have to be. They have no other choice but to come back to her safe and sound.

They leave mother with one last hug and approach her now as they are about to fly off. She is clearly worried and nervous as they come closer and Jace is the first to hug her, holding her close just like last time. She closes her eyes at how familiar it feels to be held by him and presses him close. She leaves a small kiss on his cheek before they part and she holds onto his shoulders, wondering if she can keep him here if she holds on strongly enough. He sees the worry in his twin's eyes and squeezes her shoulder.

"I will come back, sister, do not worry."

Alysanne thinks he's foolish for telling her not to worry but lets him leap onto Vermax either way. She is then faced with Luke who looks up at her with wide, scared eyes from the nest of brown locks on his head. Alysanne's heart hurts at how small he looks and she wants to pick him up like she used to when they were younger and hide him in the castle, wrap him in a blanket and never let him see the horrors of the world. He is almost as tall as her and it frightens her that her younger brother is growing up so quickly. She never gave him permission for that. She cups his small face in her hands and wants to cry at how much more it dwarfs him, so small and yet so brave to fly to Storm's End all on his own.

"My little brother, I'll miss you but you'll be back in no time anyway. Either way, be careful. I wish I could go instead but maybe I can secretly follow after you on Cannibal."

Luke lets out a small laugh at that and smiles at her, his nervousness not so bad now. "I think mother would kill you if you did."

Alysanne smiles at that too and agrees. She ruffles his pretty locks and leans down to be closer to him and kisses his forehead as gently as ever. He had always loved when his elder sister was sweet to him, always felt safe and secure with her. Luke then turns to approach his dragon but comes running back just a few seconds later and hugs Alysanne tightly.

"Don't blame yourself for Aemond. It's alright for you to love him, you can't choose over it but please don't blame yourself, sister. I know what you have done for us and I'm happy that you're my sister and protect me from everything. I love you, Alysanne."

The princess is startled by his words but she smiles at them nonetheless, her heart bursting at how sweet her brother is. Her smart boy, her little Luke.

"I love you too, sweet boy. Don't worry about me, you make sure that you come back safely to me."

My dearest Alysanne,

it has been only a day since you left but I miss you so terribly already. I hope you arrive safely at Dragonstone and think of me as much as I think of you. Soon we will be wed and everyone will see that we are bound and meant to be together, in the eyes of god and men.

It almost pains me physically to not have you by my side now, to hold you close to me and to let you see me as I am. There is no one in the Seven Kingdoms that I have ever met that has made me feel like you do. There is no one in the Known World, living or dead, that will ever enthrall me like you. I could not explain it, can not tell you why I love you so much, just that I do. I am yours and you are mine until the end of our days. I wish to get on Vhagar and fly after you and Cannibal to Dragonstone just so I can be with you, hold your hands, your face, tell you that my heart desires no one but you and that you will forever have me trapped, that I chase you like the moon chases the sun, forever.

I hope to meet up at our spot soon. The little island will always be there and I will be there too, waiting for you.

I love you. Now and always.

Forever yours, Aemond

She hates him. Now and always.

She doesn't believe it when she's told, only shakes her head when her mother comes into her room, tears all over her face. She tells him that Lucerys had died, attacked by another dragon. Her mother is silent when Alysanne asks which dragon and who it was. Did it matter? She does not believe her anyway because it's not true. Lucerys is still alive, just on his way back from Storm's End.

She's completely still as her mother tells her that it was Vhagar who had attacked and killed him. She doesn't move, doesn't breathe, doesn't see anything but red. She did not believe it because who would hurt her Luke like this? Who? Her sweet little brother who was only a child, a little boy still so young and unaware of the horrors of war. But now she believes it because she sees the way her mother continues to sob and cry.

Alysanne believes it now.

I'll get back at your brother for this one day.

A loud dragon roar is heard outside, Cannibal is so loud that it almost deafens her. It must have been heard to King's Landing.

Good, she thinks. Let them hear the roar of a dragon.

She wants to throw the chair she leans on at the wall, wants to take her sword and break her bed with it, wants to scream and pull her hair and bash her head on the ground and punch herself and punch her fist at the wall until it breaks-

She feels arms envelop her and it's her mother that had been crying so bitterly at the loss of her son, holding her close, so close because she's scared of losing her. Alysanne's mind swallows her anger automatically with her mother so close in her vicinity. She can not be violent towards her mother, she would rather die. Maybe her mother senses that she's feeling awful and that she wants to hurt herself to make the pain go away and hugs her so she won't. Alysanne doesn't know. She holds onto her mother either way, like a child she wails in her arms and screams for him. She screams for Lucerys to come back, she doesn't understand why he's not coming and running to her at her distress, doesn't understand that the little brother she held in her arms and kissed on his forehead just hours ago was dead.

The Gods play tricks on her indeed.

Her mother leaves her alone a little while later at her request and Alysanne goes to Lucerys' room because maybe he'll be hiding somewhere, waiting for Alysanne to find him. She looks around the room and wonders how it can suddenly feel so empty, so void as if no one lived here anymore. She takes a few more steps into the room, looks at the strewn and messy books on his study table and remembers that she told him once to keep his mess organized. He never listened to her.

He'll never listen to her ever again.

Her eyes go over his bed and she spots a small plush toy that she knows all too well. She approaches the bed and takes it in her hands, almost feeling like it will dissolve when she picks it up. She had made it for him, years ago when she still had lessons with a septa, she learned how to make these small plush toys. When she was young, she had made one for each of her brothers and made them look like their dragons. She sits there with a toy version of Arrax and her heart hurts, screams, burns like a wildfire. Their bodies are gone, she realizes. Lucerys and Arrax are both lost somewhere in the sea. They can not even be burned.

Another loud, angry roar is heard from Cannibal. She's never heard him sound this angry.

She's never been this angry.

She puts the plush toy back and swiftly walks out of the room, her face stone cold as she marches to her room. All she takes is her sword and small dagger, nothing to protect her from the cold.

Good, she thinks. I shall feel what Lucerys felt when he died. Cold, scared and frightened.

She passes guards as she makes her way outside but they pay her no mind and pass by her quickly because they are scared of Cannibal's roars and know that he is only so loud because of her anger. Her dragon is already perched right outside of the gates. He looks as black and dreadful and menacing as ever, his roars still sounding all over Dragonstone. The guards that stand outside are terrified, not willing to get any closer to him but Alysanne does not care. She approaches him and climbs onto his back, the huge dragon is not at all phased by this.

As soon as she is in her saddle the dragon shouts out another menacing roar and takes off, not having to listen to his rider's orders. Alysanne believes he can read her mind and knows where to go without her having to say anything. She loves him for it.

It's a short flight to the island that they called theirs, somewhere in the middle in between King's Landing and Dragonstone. It was just large enough for Vhagar and Cannibal to reside on and for Aemond and Alysanne to have time for themselves when they could.

Yes, she thinks. We'll be by ourselves with no one to hear his or Vhagar's screams and roars.

She does not know for sure if he is there but behold the gods, he is. She spots the large dragon figure on the island and a figure of white long hair in black clothes sitting on the beach. His head is downcast when she comes closer but he does not raise his head even though Cannibal is more than loud. He lands her a safe distance away from Vhagar, the older dragon staying at her spot with her snout next to Aemond. Alysanne gets off of Cannibal and approaches Aemond who is crying into his hands. She doesn't concern herself with it, only pulls her sword out towards him and the sound of the metal finally makes him turn his head. He looks horrified at who's standing in front of him but Alysanne remains cold, stoic, hard. His tear streaked face and his tired, sorrowful expression do not hurt her.

He is frantic to come closer and she lets him but only until the tip of her sword touches his chest. He looks at her beggingly but she only shakes her head. He feels cold and awful at the empty eyes she's looking at him with and it seems to terrify him that she held no love for him in her eyes. Before he can say anything, she cuts him off.

"I thought about killing Aegon first, you know? An eye for an eye, a brother for a brother. That's what all this was about after all. But then I realized that you do not love Aegon nearly as much as I love Lucerys. In fact, if I killed him, you would be better off since the crown would fall to you, his children are still so little after all. Then I thought and thought about whose death would pain you as much as Luke's pains me... That's why I thought of killing myself in front of you."

Aemond looks horrified at her words and does not believe that this is really his Alysanne. He had never, ever felt any of the anger or animosity she held inside of her directed to him so this hurts him deeply, cuts his heart in half so painfully. He shakes his head at her word and falls on his knees, powerless and defeated by the murder he had done and by the hatred of the woman he loves.

"Please, Alysanne, I beg you, do not hurt yourself. Please, I'm sorry, I swear it was an accident. I lost control of Vhagar, I didn't mean to do it! I never wanted to kill him, I just wanted his eye! Please, you have to believe me, please, I will do anything for you, please don't hate me."

Aemond sobs and cries like she did earlier and it satisfies her to know that he is in pain. She does not think that he deserves to cry like this just because she wants to hurt him. She lost a brother, he only lost his love. Unfortunately however, she still loves him and a small part of her is in pain at seeing him so distraught and hysterical. She wants to hold him, comfort him, hug him...

And then she remembers that Luke is dead. And all those feelings are gone immediately.

"Don't worry, I won't kill myself. I still have a war to win, a mother to put on a throne, a birthright to restore for my brother. My family needs me and Cannibal so no, I can not give myself the pleasure of killing myself for your misery." Alysanne then smiles, a tiny smile but it is so scaring and horrifying that Aemond shivers from where he's looking up to her.

"But I'm happy that you mention Vhagar. I was going to kill her anyway for killing Luke and Arrax but now, I want you to watch her die. I want you to watch me take away the one only thing that has ever given you power in your life and want you to feel what it's like to lose everything."

Aemond only looks at her in disbelief and horror and watches as if he is trapped in his body as Alysanne commands for Cannibal to attack and kill. Vhagar is still lazily lying there, clearly exhausted from the turmoil of emotions her rider is feeling. Because of this, she is weak and her already old state makes her slow to move. It's almost funny that Cannibal is almost as old as her but so much quicker and more brutal. Even Aemond had once admitted that Cannibal was a better war dragon than Vhagar, simply because he was large but because of his long body, still quick to move. Besides, wild dragons are truly ruthless creatures, taking whatever they want and being used to much more brutally by themselves and without a rider.

Alysanne smiles as Cannibal bites the old dragon's tail and simply rips it off, tossing it on the beach next to him, never one to waste his food. Vhagar roars out but it's weak, lame and it takes a long time for her to move, so long that Cannibal is already bursting his massive fire at the old creature. The pain from the fire only makes it worse for the she-dragon and just as Vhagar is about to attack and spew fire of her own, Cannibal grips his teeth around her neck. They struggle back and forth for a few seconds and Alysanne sees the blood drip from Vhagar's neck. Eventually, Cannibal bites all around her neck completely and the dragon's head slices slowly to the ground, making a wet, disgusting sound as it lands on the sand. The huge body of the dragon sacks down in itself and Cannibal begins to feast on her carcass. He will have plenty of food for at least a week.

Alysanne turns back to Aemond who had just watched in horror this whole time, did not say a single word or command Vhagar to attack back. His mouth is open in shock and tears fall down his face as he watches Cannibal feast on his dragon. This is what it feels like, Alysanne thinks. You should feel even more.

Aemond turns back to her and his expression is unchanged, only shock and disbelief in his eyes. She only holds her sword up and points it at his chest once again. She doesn't know how stupid he is but clearly, he is very stupid because he makes no move to get away or attack her. She hardens the grip on her handle and holds the sword right where his heart is. She looks down on his chest and then back up again into his eye. She reaches forward and rips his eyepatch off in anger. Her expression is just as cold as before but her heart beats in fear now and she does not know if she can bring herself to slice it into his chest.

For him, she thinks. For Luke. Your little Luke who only ever wanted to be held by you and talk to you about his worries over ruling one day. Luke who only ever wanted to know that he was loved. Luke who did not wish to go, did not wish to fly into a trap to his own death.

Her inner demons make the decision for her and she pushes the sword in with all her strength and feels it go through his skin, his blood spilling out like a fountain. She doesn't stop pushing in until she feels the sword come out at the other end and only then does she rip it out. The blood flows out even more and Aemond doesn't scream at the pain, only holds his chest in shock and falls backwards on the sand onto his back. Alysanne throws her sword to the side and pulls out the dagger as she falls to her knees next to his body. He looks at her, has been looking at her this whole time and still does not say anything, does not attack her or tell her to stop. He has accepted his demise, so it seems.

His blood covered hand from his chest reaches up with all the strength he has left and he touches her cheek, so softly and gently. Alysanne is crying now and can not hold her emotions at bay anymore as she feels his warm, almost hot blood cover her cheek. He wipes away her tears and she drops the dagger that she had planned to take his eye out with as he cries too but strangely, there's a smile on his face. She leans down now and lies next to him, half her body on his as she continues to cry over her lost love. She puts one hand on his where it's holding his wound and smiles back at him. She feels happiness but sadness, sorrow and relief, darkness and light all at the same time. She sees how much harder it gets for him to breathe and the blood continues to come out of his chest, staining her dress but she doesn't care.

"Will you... come back here? Sometimes, just to remember me? When you have found... someone else you will love and be with and marry, will you still.. remember me?"

He talks slowly and his voice is almost at a whisper, taking breaths in between his words and Alysanne cries and cries and cries. She sobs for him and at what she had to do and asks why in hell he had to kill her brother but she nods all the same, can not let go of her first and only real love she ever had. Her heart feels just like Aemond's wound, bleeding and pierced with a sword and she leans her head on his, her tears falling on his face and mixing with his tears.

"No, I won't ever take anyone else. I can never love anyone like I love you, Aemond. I do not understand it... I despise you and I adore you. I hate you and I love you. I kill you and cry over you dying. What have you done with me, Aemond? What is this spell that you have put on me? I can never love someone again, never in my life. And I will think of you in every breath I take, with every turn of the sun, with every time I wake and go to sleep. You will never leave me, Aemond Targaryen. In death and in life. I love you, now and always."

Alysanne sobs and cries so bitterly, so painfully that she feels like she can not breathe from her sobs. She looks at Aemond and can see the life slowly leaving his eyes and she only holds on tighter to his hand on his chest, sobs and cries as if she had not done this to him. She reaches down and kisses him, one last time and wishes she had kissed him more in the past so she could remember what it really felt like. He looks at her with still so much love and smiles at her.

"I love you, Alysanne. Now and always."

She feels his hand on her cheek slowly slip away, the strength leaving his body and it pains and fills her with joy in a way that she does not understand. She only cries more as his hand falls down, his other hand turning motionless too. She sees the moment life leaves his eyes, that his soul departs from his body. Alysanne screams now and sobs and cries and can not stop her emotions from overflowing. She leans closer to him, her head on his chest right next to where his wound is and holds onto his hand with both of her hands as she lies there next to him. Her love was gone, forever perished by her hand and would never wake up again, tell her that he loved her, hold her so gently and speak of their wedding and how happy he would finally be to not be apart, to have her at his side at all times. He would never feel that happiness again, he would never feel his love for her again, he would never feel anything ever again. She sobs and cries next to his body for some time more, knowing that what she had done would haunt her for the rest of her life. It was terrible. Terrible but necessary.

Aemond Targaryen is dead.

Lucerys Velaryon is avenged.

When she comes flying back on Cannibal hours later her family is standing at the gates, seemingly worried for her. She sees her parents waiting for her and wonders if they will judge her for what she has done today.

Cannibal lands and Alysanne quickly gets off of the dragon. Her mother and father rush to her but stop when she sees that the blood she is covered in is not hers. She must look as insane as she feels, her white dress covered in blood at almost every part, her face and hands covered in it even more. She doesn't look at either of them as she gets off, too ashamed for how they would see her now. She gives Cannibal two pats and Aemond's body rolls out of his jaw with a horrifying splat and her dragon flies off to his nest, resting from the emotional and physically turmoil he had felt today. Rhaenyra and Daemon both look at him in shock and then at Alysanne. She only looks at Aemond, his eyes now closed but his body grotesquely bloodied all the same. Her mother steps closer and holds her by her shoulder, begging her to look up but she does not. She needs to remember Aemond's face, one last time before he's truly gone.

"What happened to Vhagar?" Her father questions, his shock now over but he still seems hesitant about how he feels. She looks up now and looks Daemon in the eyes, nothing but coldness in her eyes.

"Dead, lying on an island not far from here where I found her with him. Cannibal gave her a quick death and ate half her carcass already. He'll go back for more in the next few days until there's nothing left."

She now finally looks at her mother, who looks horrified at what she has done. She wonders if her own mother might not see her in the same light anymore but she brings the hand from her shoulder to her cheek and softly holds it there, uncaring about the blood.

"You did not have to do this, my little one." Her mother has tears in her eyes and she doesn't stop them from flowing out, in sadness over how her little girl had to go through so much pain just because of the man she loved. She looks at her mother and tries to soften her gaze. She does not know if it works or if she will ever be able to feel something again after what she has done.

"But I did. I loved him but I had to kill him at the same time. I could not let him live knowing what he had done to Luke. I just couldn't."

She looks away and back down at Aemond, his face so at peace now with his eye closed and almost a ghost of a smile on his lips. She stares at him for a few seconds, tries to memorize every detail about his beautiful face and feels herself crying again without sobbing this time. The tears just fall down her face without her wanting them to, just like everything else feels out of her control. She then bends down to him and leans his head in her direction, his body already growing cold and it pains her, burns her to feel that there was no more dragon blood in his body. She reaches her hand up to his face and softly cradles his cheeks and then takes the sapphire out of his eye socket. She does not look at him after that anymore, knowing he would not have wanted her to see him without it. She stands upright again and looks at the small blue sapphire in her hands, her last memory of him. She balls her hand into a fist around the sapphire and wishes she could just be at peace in her life, for once. She does not get peace, will never get it.

She walks past her parents and into the castle, the guards she passes looking at her in horror and shock. Now they see me as I am, she thinks. A monster.

She wants to start crying again when she remembers that Aemond had once said the same thing to her about himself. She wishes to hold him again, one last time just like on the beach, hold hands with him and tell him that she loved him and could never forget him. She wishes to hold him, to be with him but she does not wish for him to be alive again because it would then rip her apart to know that the man who had murdered her brother still lived. But she wished to turn back time for the rest of her life, lay in his arms again on the beach, kiss him and tell him that she will never forget about him. But she can not.

Aemond Targaryen is dead. Lucerys Velaryon is avenged.

Alysanne Velaryon brought justice for her brother and for her family. It was justice for the world and a small consolation prize for her pain of losing Luke.

An eye for an eye, she thinks. A life for a life.

Alysanne wishes justice for herself too. She wishes death for herself too.

#house of the dragon #hotd #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x original character #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x ofc #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen fic #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon spoilers

610 notes · View notes