yandere genshin oneshots!

☏ butterfly dreams - yandere albedo + impostor albedo

! Modern AU !

Trigger warning; Gore, eating disorders, sh, verbal abuse and general yandere stuff.

this is frustrating to write because I have issues with how I feel about my body, but I want more people to see this problem and recognize it. If you see symptoms of an ED, please call it out.

I had no direction with this.
Take it, and acknowledge that the next one will make more sense.

- • -

Everything you eat is store bought.
You don't eat much.

A meal held in silence, a window cracked, a flower in my palm. I feel like a stranger. I feel like I know you. I feel like I'm anywhere but in between. The camera clicks. The image saves. The only things you can stand the taste of. I know you'll vomit afterward, and I know I'll have to leave instead of provide the comfort you need.
And you'll say you need to be skinny to dance.
And you'll ignore me, even if I'll love you regardless.

I pull away from your window and flip through the pictures I took of you. They'll serve as great references in my artwork. And, since you are no longer in my class, you won't see. And I won't have you to stare at, to fall in love with. But even dropping out won't stop the growing fixation I have on you. And I can't wait until the day we fall in love. Until I can finally see..

"Why I was made to be this way."

Home-cooked meals, hand-made ballet slippers.
Everything you love comes from your own hands.

Click.
Click.
Click.

I can't stop taking photos.
I want to remember you like this.

Today you cooked grilled cheese. All by yourself. You only ate half, but it's a start. I'm proud. I want to leave before you regurgitate it all, but I need more photos. I need more references. I need more of this happiness engraved in my mind. I need you. I want to paint pictures together, to share this moment.
I want to be there with you, and I want you to see me.
And I want to be somewhere else while you barf it all up.
I don't want to see the bad.
I don't want to see this disgusting side of you.

"Please, just eat one more bite."

Manufactured by the dozen, three paints out of twelve million.
Three colors that were made by a machine.

I paint your iris, then that strand of hair that's always out of place. A painting of you, one of you being free, makes me feel so caged. Trapped and fluttering in the corner. Barely breathing. I can't help it.
My professor commented on the piece. He said he adored it, and how elegant the woman looked. I want to slit his throat, for not seeing the bigger picture. For not seeing what was wrong.

But I'm the problem.
I'm the problem because I know, and won't tell him.

I feel like I'm dying.
I feel like my lungs are closing in.
A blonde man on the floor, papers thrown everywhere.
My limbs match their energy, and are amiss. I can't think. I can't hear. I want to see you dance again.
The hospital taking me away, to be cured.
Awaking from a dream.

A door like many others. I painted it in flowers, but you did the real work. You bought the door, the house, the paint.
I knock.