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if-loves · 2 days

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不老梦 (unaging dream)

// Yandere Dan Heng

sum: “How many meetings receive their worthy ends?”

wc: 3379

warnings: idk OOC dan heng ig 😢 and fem! reader

a/n: this was a shower idea ngl and also i yapped too much someone stop me

also inspired by the song 不老梦 (and some influence of 锦鲤抄 (no one ask me how many times i’ve played this song)) by 银临! i highly suggest giving both a listen (≧∇≦)

likes and reblogs appreciated :)

Dan Feng adored you.

Dan Heng knows that much. He knows that Dan Feng’s first and last thoughts were about you, pondering your whereabouts, your health, and a longing to see you once more. He knows that Dan Feng would, without fail, set aside time solely for you. No matter how busy his schedule was, he always had time for you. If Dan Feng knew love, it was because he knew you.

Dan Heng doesn’t understand why.

He knows that you’re a long-life species like Jing Yuan, that you’re someone who has accompanied every reincarnation of his ever since you had met them for the first time. He vaguely remembers that the rest of them had not felt anything more than platonic affection for you, but Dan Feng, the singular oddity, harbored far more romantic affections. Dan Heng, on the other hand, feels nothing.

Or so he thinks, until he is forced to revisit the Xianzhou Luofu.

It’s at Scalegorge Waterscape that he sees and meets you for the first time. You accompany Jing Yuan as he arrives, and your eyes immediately lock on to him. He sees them widen, and your lips whisper the name of his predecessor. Although almost silent, he hears your voice, and something in him tells him that it’s the most beautiful sound in the universe.

(He makes no move to deny.)

Your meeting is brief, no more than a sentence exchanged. You dip your head in respect, and nothing more than a simple greeting is said. He merely nods in acknowledgment, and yet while he has never learned it, he yearns to call your name.

You dutifully follow Jing Yuan as the group goes deeper into Scalegorge Waterscape, and Dan Heng can’t help but glance at you. He wonders if you know his name, and not that of his predecessors; he is not, and never will be, Dan Feng.

He thinks it’s odd that you don’t try to speak to him. From Dan Feng’s memories, he sees that you were both very close, perhaps even lovers at some point. Your wide smiles and sweet laughter are all etched into his brain, and he desires nothing more than to hear and see them for himself. He hopes you’ll give him the pleasure of smiling once more.

During the battle with Phantylia, he feels fear in his heart. He is concerned for the Express, concerned for Jing Yuan, and concerned for you. Was there really a need for you to be there, with everyone at the frontlines? Surely their group was enough already? Why didn’t Jing Yuan leave you behind or make you go back with Yanqing?

Plagued by his worries, he can’t help but keep his eyes on you as much as the battle allows. You stood at the very back, likely providing support and aid for your comrades in the front. Seeing you like this sparks another remembrance, of the days you’d delicately put ointment on Dan Feng’s bruises or gently tend to his wounds, all while chastising him about being more careful with himself.

It’s after the battle with Phantylia that he manages to find the courage to speak to you. He feels like a child with the way shyness has overtaken him, and he catches sight of Jing Yuan, although injured, seemingly enjoying his fluster.

“It’s… it’s been a long time.” He cringes at his first words.

“So it has, Imbibitor Lunae.” Your voice, a symphony of the galaxy’s most captivating sounds, enchants him further, and although not usually one to blush, he feels heat rising to his cheeks.

“Dan Heng. My name is Dan Heng.” He can’t help but correct. He has been relinquished of that name, of the sins that it bears. He is not Imbibitor Lunae, he is merely the Astral Express’ Dan Heng. “I… am no longer Imbibitor Lunae.”

“…Dan Heng, then.” Is it foolish to be happy at how one says your name? “Is there something I can help you with?”

“I…” Dan Heng doesn’t quite know what to say. He wants to speak to you, to hear you for the rest of time, but he doesn’t know how. He doesn’t know how to speak to you without the possibility of widening the rift already between you two, undoubtedly the fault of a certain Vidyadhara High Elder.

“If there is nothing more to say, then I shall be on my way. I wish you and your crewmates safe travels.” You say simply and easily, like you don’t hold his heart. You say it like he’s a stranger, and not even your eyes are willing to show a hint of familiarity. What heinous crime did Dan Feng do to you that even to this day, you’re unwilling to forgive?

“I’d like to know what happened between you and… my predecessor.” The word leaves a sour taste in his mouth, like he’s saying the name of the competitor for your love. Your eyes widen in shock, and you look at him as if he had just asked to return to the Luofu permanently. He is acutely aware of the absurdity of the situation, that he looks exactly the same as the sinner that undoubtedly did something to you, that this same face is acting as if he hadn’t done anything to you. The real irony was in asking for the list of crimes.

“…There’s nothing more to be said, other than that he betrayed Xianzhou.” You don’t offer him the kindness of an explanation, and he thinks the way you can’t bear to even meet his eyes says all he needs to know about your feelings. Dan Feng had hurt you so greatly, that years later your heart is still hurting.

Dan Heng desires nothing more than to understand you the same way all his predecessors did, for an intimate connection the rest of them had, but he knows that for as long as he resembles him, you’ll never offer him that opportunity. And so, he makes a request.

He makes a request to meet with Jing Yuan privately. Said man is now your boss, and if you had told anyone about your connection to the traitor, it would be Jing Yuan, the only one who would welcome you with no judgment, only understanding.

“It was quite the surprise to learn of your request, Dan Heng.” The white haired man sits on his seat, a calm expression on his face. The Seat of Divine Foresight is devoid of people, the space cleared for this meeting. The General seems to have recognised some urgency in the request, or perhaps it is because he is a reincarnation of his old friend. You are also nowhere to be found.

“Thank you for accepting my request, Jing Yuan.” Dan Heng is stiff in his reply.

“There’s no need to be formal, you did help save the Luofu after all. Consider it part of a repayment for your predecessor’s crimes.” A bird comfortably nestles itself into the nest of his hair, and he makes no move to rid it. “Your request mentioned something about (Y/n). I imagine that it has something to do with Dan Feng’s past with her?”

“Yes. I tried to ask her, but she refused to give me anything more than the vague answer of his betrayal.” The black haired man’s hands clenches on his knee, looking straight at Jing Yuan as if his life depended on the answer. “Please, Jing Yuan, I need to know.”

I need to know how I can fix his mistakes.

“I must apologize, for I can’t exactly help much either. As far as I know, she has mostly kept to herself. Back when everything had yet to go awry, while the five of us were close, only Dan Feng was close to her.” Jing Yuan replied, mindlessly staring at a stack of paper on his desk. “I only came to really know her after what he did, when she was seeking a change of jobs and came across a position as my assistant. From what little I can recall of the past, I can only confidently tell you that she, at the very least, held strong affections for him, even when he broke his promises or left her alone.”

Dan Feng… broke his promises to you? Dan Feng… left you alone?

“This seems like quite the news for you.” Jing Yuan chuckles at the dumbfounded expression on his face. “Perhaps I can help with sorting through some memories?”

“Everything I can remember from him is nothing more than sweet memories and strong yearnings to see her again. It… I cannot remember anything of that sort.” Dan Heng is frankly horrified and beyond furious. He just couldn’t wrap the idea that Dan Feng didn’t prioritize you the same way his memories and dreams had shown him, that he would willingly break promises to his supposed lover so often that you gave up.

“Oh? That’s interesting. Is it possible that during the reincarnation process, all of his negative memories of hurting her had somehow disappeared, only leaving behind the ones he cherished most?”

“That would seem to be the case.” Dan Heng has a new determination. He knows what he must do. Standing from the seat, he bows politely at Jing Yuan. “I know what I must do. Thank you for the valuable information, Jing Yuan.”

“No thanks needed.” The General waves him off, seeing the body of his old friend disappear behind the doors. With a bitter smile, he silently mourns bygone days, but it doesn’t soothe the ache in his old heart.

~~~

You’re a little afraid to go to work now.

With the knowledge that your ex-lover’s reincarnation who happens to look exactly like him is still roaming about in the Luofu, you kind of don’t want to step out of your house for fear of running into him. You had desperately hoped that, by some miracle, he couldn’t recognise you, or even better, completely forgotten all about you. Alas, the will of the Aeons will always be like a child’s, fickle and ever-changing, never leaving a second thought for their toys.

The weekend has you hiding in your house, praying to Lan that the Express has departed, allowing you to be free from the reminder of the dream you once cherished with the one you loved. The dream that was once so beautiful, so precious, was now tainted with the stains of yesteryear, never again to be dreamed of by any of its dreamers.

You’re settled on the couch, reading a collection of poetry when there is a knock at your door. Never one to keep guests waiting, you immediately jumped out of your seat to rush to the door, forgetting the crucial reminder to check the knocker. It is this one fatal mistake that seals your fate forevermore.

“(Y/n).” His voice is the same as you remember, reverent, loving (as if you meant the world). He looks the same, the blue horns atop his head that he would only allow you to touch, the teal eyes that could always read you as if you were an open book, the long, black hair you loved to braid. You used to lay on his lap, one of his hands holding yours, the other caressing your cheek with a gentleness reserved for delicate flowers, lulling you to your shared dream.

Your name from his lips sounds so right, yet, yet, like the forbidden fruit from the Garden of Eden, a tempting yet unpardonable sin. Your name sounds as though it was specifically intended for his lips alone, but the taint of the past sours the feeling. He’s a traitor to the Xianzhou, he is exiled. He… is dead to you.

But… Why is it that you yearn for him? Why is it that your body longs to be in his embrace once more, that your heart desires to beat in sync with his?

“I love you.” This dream, cruel and twisted and evil in all its forms, has you weak. You can’t see straight, and the world is turning into a blur. How could he say that, while he looks like him? How dare he? Has Aha taken the form of your regret, and decided to make you THEIR victim?

You don’t realize the tears running down your face until he, holding your face with both hands, much like a lover would, wipes them away.

“Please don’t cry. I don’t like seeing you sad.” The sunlight shines upon him angelically, a frown marring his face. His eyes are panicked, unsure of what to do. He, so similar yet so different, knows not what a lover should do.

The panic in his eyes morphs to confusion when you weakly push his hands away, trying your hardest to compose yourself in front of him. He is not the same person you once knew, and he deserves freedom.

Wiping the last of your tears away, you invite him into your home. He is visibly shocked, accepting your invitation without hesitation, following you to the couch. You offer him a drink, tea, but he refuses.

“I learned some things from Jing Yuan.” He starts, quietly. He looks at you, and there is a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “Please, I need to know what he did, the promises he broke, the sins he committed. I… need to make things right.”

“You do not need to repent for the sins of your predecessor. A child does not bear the responsibility of righting the wrongs of their parents; you do not bear the responsibilities of righting his wrongs.” You speak to him firmly, a sudden strength in your voice. “Please, Dan Heng, be free from me; be free from the Luofu.”

“But I love-”

“You do not love me.” An anger flashes in his eyes briefly, and had you blinked you would have missed it. The anger, ever so brief, on his face is the same as you remember. “You love what your predecessor loved about me. All your memories of me are his, and you are not him. You have the chance to love freely, to meet all kinds of people from all walks of life - I am but a speck of dust in the tempest of your life. Soon I will be nothing but a memory, perhaps bittersweet, and you will find something, someone, that you’ll love.”

You hope, desperately, that he understands. He says he is not Imbibitor Lunae, that he is not Dan Feng; then severing your ties with him would be the final nail in the coffin, the true death of the High Elder of the Vidyadhara, and the birth of Dan Heng, a member of the Astral Express who freely travels the galaxy with his companions.

“…I don’t want it.” Now it is your turn to be shocked. Has he lost his mind?

“Dan Heng, I have tried to be kind considering your situation. However, you seem to not be understanding.” Your reprimand is immediate, tumbling out of your mouth as if they were prepared beforehand.

“And I don’t want it. I need you, don’t you understand? Even… even if I deny him, he, and the ones before him, will always have a hold on me. The hold is you. We can’t live without you, none of us have. Don’t you know? As pointless as it may be, Vidyadharas mate for life; leaving without you would be akin to condemning myself to an eternity of heartbreak and misery.” He pleads, even taking your hands in his. “Even if my love for you is, thus far, only brought upon by his memories, it is fate, destiny, that I will fall in love with you again and again and again.”

Your heart hurts all over again, and you make no move to reply. Your head hangs, your eyes staring at your lap, at your intertwined hands. Gently, delicately, he brings your hand to his heart, and it beats in tandem with yours.

“Remember the vows he swore to you at that festival, many years ago?” He, Dan Heng, you must remind yourself, moves you to his lap, and you’re reminded of the many times you’ve shared this position with his lookalike. There is the same tenderness and warmth, the same comfort and protection it brings, yet you are reminded all the same that he is not the one you love.

“Those are — were his vows to keep, not yours.” You remind once more, but your words seem to reach deaf ears when the only expression on his face is that of a lovesick, diseased man.

“His vows were of reunion and love, and he has promised you eternity. If there is something of his I am willing to uphold, it is his vows to you.” He takes the hand on his heart and brings it to his cheek, leaning into your hand. Slyly, he moves your ear to his heart, and you find that the beating of the muscle doesn’t quite bring you relief. No, something brews inside your heart, and it feels closer to fear.

“Dan Heng, I d-”

“Say my name again.” He demands, his eyes, the bright teal eyes you once loved, harboring a hunger you had never seen before, not even from him.

“Dan… Heng…”

“I remember reading a story in the archives once. A pair of lovers, forever forced to part, doomed to the cycle of reincarnation. In every life, they found each other, but not every meeting was as joyful as it should have been.” He murmurs, his tail wrapping around your waist. His eyes are half-lidded, and he looks as if he has ascended to another plane. “In one of their happier lives, they grew old together. One posed a question to the other as they lay on their deathbeds, destined to continue their cycle of eternal existence. Do you know what the question was?”

Silence rings louder than it has ever been, yet still, he patiently awaits your answer. He knows that at the end of the day, you fall to him. He knows that you will speak.

“I do not.” He is right.

““How many meetings receive their worthy ends?” I have pondered this question since the first time we met at Scalegorge Waterscape, and I have decided.” With a strength you often forget he has, he picks you up and walks out of the door, ignorant of all the stares and whispers that plague his appearance. “I have decided that this meeting will receive the end it is worthy of.”

Everything else he says thereafter is nothing more than white noise.

~~~

Jing Yuan seemed more than happy to let you go with Dan Heng, and the Express was more than happy to welcome you aboard. Dan Heng, having reverted back to his more casual appearance, sticks close to you. Not that it matters, for you rarely leave the Archives.

March 7th is a peppy girl. Himeko is a kind woman. Welt Yang is a knowledgeable member. The Trailblazer is a resilient being. And Dan Heng…

Dan Heng is your captor, holding you to a vow from centuries ago. You have yet to have a moment of rest, a moment where you could finally breathe, but every time you look at him you are reminded of the real person behind the appearance. He is, first and foremost, a dragon, and dragons are primitive creatures; their rules of existence follow simple principles of eating when they are hungry, fighting when they are angry, and taking what they desire.

“Fortune granted our union amidst a crowd of ten thousand,” he reads, your head on his lap. Your eyes are closed, you can feel his fond gaze. A fate of being struck by the mara would be a better fate than being a prisoner of your regret.

Lately, he has taken a liking to the poetry collection you brought with you. His reading has soured the otherwise bewitching poetry, yet you don’t wish for the deception of sleep — you know that it will only bring you the sweet dream you are trying to escape.

“I’d rather break my heart and bathe in flames,

than to break the thought

of night’s drizzle and water lilies by your side.”

#yandere #honkai star rail #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr #hsr #yandere x reader #dan heng #yandere dan heng #dan heng x reader #fem reader #female reader #imbibitor lunae

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vvanillavveins · 2 days

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I'm just going to say it: i love Good Omens for its ace-coding (and/or potential aro-coding, too). And, i think that it's very easy to view Crowley & Aziraphale as queerplatonic. When i say that, i don't mean that people are wrong for seeing their dynamic as purely romantic, i'm not at all dismissing the pair's obvious love and care and devotion towards one another. All i mean is that, if you want to, it's easy to read that love and care and devotion as platonic, i.e., a love for the other person's soul, above anything else. And that aspect of it heals a little part of my own soul every time i watch it.

Idk, it's just something about all of their little rituals, the thoughtful compliments, the favours and the gift-giving- done out of genuine kindness, not expecting anything in return except for getting to watch the other smile. Every interaction is full of symbolism and meaning, yet without being based on overt romantic love. It's also about how they can admire each other without touching- not because they don't love each other exactly- but because they are already so aware of their inherent togetherness that there is no real need to prove it through touch. Their relationship transcends physicality in the same way it seems to go beyond the boundaries of traditional romance. Even with the kiss in season 2, we know that it is not part of their established ways of showing affection, and we are shown that neither of them are comfortable with it because of that.

They've spent 6000 years cultivating their own unique love language, and the show goes to great lengths to keep expanding on that- not just throw it away or completely change it once Heaven and Hell are less involved in their lives on Earth. Crowley & Aziraphale's development together really is a beautiful thing to watch- and idk about any of you- but positive or even just neutral portrayal of non-traditional, sexless relationships feels like a rareity, especially when it comes to television. That's why this show is such a big source of comfort for me personally.

I'm autistic- so this might just be yet another case of me just not 'getting it', since i can't read faces or tones of voice- and therefore i'm just not seeing what everyone else is, but i'm hoping at least one other person out there interprets it this way too.

...

[I am talking about the TV show here; their asexuality felt a lot more overt in the book]

#especially when you compare how differently they behave in comparison with other angel/demon pairings like Gabriel & Beezlebub #i know that the show pushes the more romantic angle a lot harder than the book does - but it still isn't explicitly romantic either #asexual #aromantic #acespec #arospec #queer platonic relationship #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #asexual crowley #asexual aziraphale #asexual ineffable husbands #aroace ineffable husbands

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citruslullabies · 1 day

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hii, I hope you're well! idk if you are still accepting requests, but if you are, i wanted to ask you for a dogday x reader inspired by the song "100 years" from the clover álbum (made by Or30) Where dogday before being...dogday, was reader's husband, who never showed up again after going to work one day, i think that song I would fit very well for this

(sorry for my bad english btw)

💜🐈‍⬛

Of course darling! And no worries, your English is good!

Trigger warnings: none that I can think of

Romantic/platonic?: romantic

Requested by: mauumeow

Category: angst

Ship (romantic or platonic): Dogday x reader

Word count: 1021

100 years

The cabin was still and quiet as you stood in the kitchen, dicing up carrots for dinner only for one instead of two.

The table had two chairs, and your bedroom had a bed meant for two and two night stands. Clothes meant for you and clothes meant for someone else who couldn't even wear them anymore, left untouched in your closet. You sighed and shut your eyes for just a moment as sorrow that attacked you every day came in for battle. It had been ten years, and yet you could still never get over him and it was pitiful for you to admit you still loved him.

You still remembered the day he left like it was yesterday, August 8th 1995. You were in the kitchen making breakfast for two, having two plates out and two servings made, two napkins and two forks. As you cooked your scrambled eggs and flipped your bacon, a smile creeped onto your lovely face as you felt arms come around your waist and a nuzzle against your neck.

“G’morning…” Your husband tiredly mumbled, his large hands delicate against you no matter how rough and calloused. You chuckled and glanced back at him, admiring how he looked so put together but acted as if he wasn't ready to face anything let alone the day. You continued to cook and pressed your lips against his temple delicately.

Adoration wasn't the word you'd use to describe how you felt, or love. Those words just simply didn't feel strong enough to use but you knew no other words for it. “Good morning, handsome. Sleep well?” You cooed to your husband that acted like a dog, loyal and loving every day and struggled to tear himself away from your side.

He nodded dazily, and smiled as he smelled the air. He reached over to grab a piece of bacon which earned him a swat to the hand, making him groan and pout. “You're so mean to me.” He complained. You simply rolled your eyes and giggled while continuing to prepare breakfast for the two of you as he took a seat and adored you from afar. You were his everything, even if you two got married later than some. You were 38 and he was 42, only having been married for two years but he wouldn't have it any other way. His brown eyes glimmered with happiness as he saw you approach with two plates, setting them down as you kissed him in which he happily reciprocated.

During the kiss, you separated your lips just momentarily to reply to his previous comment. “Love hurts, Rich.” You hummed before kissing him for just a moment more, taking a seat when you were done and left him in a daze. Even after being with you for so long and married so short, you still had him in the puppy love phase and he couldn't drag himself out of it. He playfully poked your ribs and started to eat his pancakes first. “Yeah yeah, I know.”

The morning went smoothly as always, with Rich scarfing down his breakfast and just adoring you while you finished up. Then his least favorite part came which was leaving, he sighed as you fixed his tie and hair while he was at the door. “Maybe I should call out today.. just spend the day here with you.” He murmured, causing you to raise an eyebrow and hum in amusement.

“Well, while that would be nice.. we can't really afford it right now Rich. Just go in and I promise, we can cuddle and watch a movie on our DVD player when you get back.” You said softly, since you still had a rented out DVD player to put to use. He nodded and gave you a kiss with a delicate squeeze to the hips, before leaving.

That was the last time you ever saw him. Now here you were in the kitchen alone in a cabin you two had bought together, 48 and getting grays and wrinkles. You still loved him after ten years and didn't dare touch anything that was his after he left, the thought of getting rid of anything hurt you more. It was 2005 and today marked 10 years, and honestly you hoped he came home most days. Others you honestly hoped you developed dementia early just to forget about him but it wasn't that easy.

You still felt his touch lingering on your skin, still felt his lips pressed against yours and your neck and the house still smelled like him in a way. Your loved ones had tried so desperately to get you to move on, go on dates and go to clubs but it never felt right. It always felt like you were cheating on a man that wasn't even there anymore.

You lost your appetite which was a normal occurrence since that day, but finished cooking before putting the leftovers in the fridge. Your body wasn't the same as it used to be, with age and loss of appetite from a broken heart. The floorboards creaked beneath your feet, aging with you as you waited and walked into the living room. You sat on your spot on the couch, looking over at the one beside you that you never allowed anyone else to sit in. With a soft sigh you glanced at the window and waited patiently, like you did that night. You waited for hours and didn't fall asleep, not once and you fretted the worse may have happened and maybe it did. Your heart yearned for him and it ached no matter what you did to fill it. Nothing could remedy it and you knew that.

You still loved him, but the memory of his face was fading and all you had to remember it were photos from your wedding but they hurt to look at. Everything around you caused you nothing but pain and memories that you wished you could claw out of your brain and start anew but you stayed.

You stayed and waited just a little bit longer hoping he'd come back.

Thank you so much for requesting!

#poppy playtime #smiling critters #poppy playtime x reader #dogday #dogday poppy playtime #dogday x reader #poppy’s playtime x reader #dogday x y/n #dogday x you #poppy playtime dogday #sunnyangel #poppys playtime #poppy playtime fanfics #poppy playtime fics #poppy playtime fic #dogday smiling critters #smiling critters dogday #pre!dogday x reader

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peachseashell · 2 days

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Heyyy!!

Idk if this counts as nsfw but I actually want it to be comfort but consider my request how you you please

I wanted to ask if you could do kazuha x hypersexual reader.

As comfort for reader because they think that they're unlovable because of this trait.

Nothing sexual!

Hello anon , I hope you're doing well , how are you ? If you feel that way I promise you are not unlovable , you cannot control being hypersexual. If anyone ever tells you that , it's not true.

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ 💕

If anyone ever feels that way , please do tell someone you trust , or my asks/messages are open for vents if you need comforting words !

Ps: if anything in this fic is incorrect (?) about hypersexuality , please do tell me so I can fix it and I'm really sorry for how short this is my mind isn't working I think I have writers block ...

· · ୨୧ · · content warnings: reader has very upsetting thoughts about themselves , gender neutral reader ! Can be read as platonic or romantic because relationship was not specified , petnames such as 'dove' are used.

Taglist : @yoshiyomi

"I don't know...I just don't feel very lovable most of the time."

Your words hurt Kazuha , they broke his heart in two. How could you say that ? When Kazuha has loved you all this time , you seriously think that?

And for such a silly reason , he thinks. It doesn't bother him. Kazuha has never been bothered by your struggle , he understands and it pains him to see you suffer and doubt your self worth.

"Don't say that , dove. I love you." Kazuha's words lifted your mood a little. "Even if I'm , different ?" you earned a sincere nod from him, maybe you could learn to accept that he loved you.

"everyone is different , (Name). That doesn't mean you aren't lovable, I promise." Kazuha's face grew a soft smile, his fingers reaching up to brush a strand of hair away from your face. Kazuha's hands were very tender towards you , like you were his most precious gem. Because you were , in his eyes.

"That's nice of you to say, thank you." When you finished your sentence , Kazuha pulled you into a very warm hug and kissed the crown of your head gently , "Don't worry anymore , okay? Nothing is going to make me stop loving you. "

It's going to be hard , you know that. But you're sure with Kazuha by your side everything is going to be okay.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #fanfiction #x reader #genshin impact x female reader #genshin impact x male reader #kazuha x female reader #kazuha x gender neutral reader #Kazuha x male reader #kazuha x reader #hypersexual #hypersexuality #kazuha fluff

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arliedraws · 3 days

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Do you think Harry was in love with Sirius? Something more intense feeling at least than just friendship/fatherhood? Because the intensity is burning across the pages and it really reminds me of being much closer to real love than any mentorship thingy, idk how to say. Now, I don't want to be so brainrotted that any platonic relationship is just shipping material. I wouldn't even say Harry's feelings were the same as the canon romantic relationships like Harry/ Ginny and Ron/Hermoine but being someone's main person, apart from parents and kids (which Harry never really got) is often the husband/wife/significant other

look at the transference in ootp, when Sirius pulls back from giving good advise to Harry and Harry withdraws too, and in the end Ginny helps Harry out with the ,,am i possessed part,, something he asked Sirius before. Later after Snapes woret memory bit, Harry confides no one why he doenst have occlumency lessons anymore but tells Ginny he wants to talk to Sirius. Its interesting to me that, Ginny took over some of Sirius's emotional duties and filled a void after Sirius's emotional withdrawal and and Harry grew in love with Ginny later. I think those are linked but that's me.

Also the books are littered with how often Harry remarks upon Sirius's handsome self so that doesn't really help. If Harry was in love and after the war he and Sirius got on with a quiet secluded life somewhere where they could see the sky, do you think Sirius could have developed the same love in return? I'm into Sirry waters here now I guess, but there's something that just keeps reminding me that Sirius was Harry's true main love, wether romantically or otherwise coded. I don't think it'd ever go into sex or stereotypical husbands sharing a flat like wolfstar is but def more closer than best friends. A secret thied option?

Canonically? No, I don’t think so.

I joke that Harry has a crush on Sirius but unfortunately, I don’t think his constant pointing to Sirius’s attractiveness is actually Harry speaking—I think it’s Rowling illustrating the “waste” that is Sirius’s life. She’s trying to show us the consequence of good looks and too much cleverness, as if to say that Sirius has nothing left. Because Harry doesn’t call Sirius handsome post-Azkaban—only pre-Azkaban Sirius is handsome (lol sure Jan). It’s funny to me how she built some really wonderful, complicated characters but did not really understand who they were.

Anyway, as much as I find Sirry fun, I don’t think Harry was in love with Sirius romantically, but he did LOVE Sirius more than anyone else. You could link emotional closeness with romance, I suppose, but I personally feel that it’s simply that Harry sought Sirius’s advice and support because Sirius is like a father to him.

Now, I could see Harry and Sirius living quietly together as adults, coping with their traumas and simply escaping the limelight for a while. Sirius, in my opinion, is Harry’s parent. The only reason I take to the Sirry route sometimes is when I am feeling feral and want to shred stuff with my teeth.

#sirius black #harry potter #hp meta #asks

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biohazard-inevitable · 2 years

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Fellas is it gay to have a crush on your queerplatonic?

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shima-draws · 2 months

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Currently in the middle of reading a Lawlu soulmate fic and it’s SUPER cute so far but the best thing is that Law is also Cora’s (platonic) soulmate, and Cora’s got the ‘You won’t see in color until you meet your soulmate’ kind of bond. Except it fluctuates depending on Law’s health, and Law runs purely on caffeine and spite, so Cora will text him being like “Hey. For some strange reason I currently cannot see the color red. Would you happen to know anything about that” and Law is just like “Uhhh. No??” and Cora’s like “Law I swear to GOD you’d better stop pulling all nighters do not make me come over there” LMAO

#I LOVE this concept so much oh my godddd #Cora’s ability to see in color all dependent on Law #So he’s got a RADAR. He KNOWS when Law isn’t treating himself well #Cora: Can currently only see in pastels. Law.#Law; sweating: In my defense I HAD to be up all night. Okay??#Cora: EXCUSES!! GO TO BED!!!!!!#FNNSNFNS #It’s called ‘Not a Ball or a Chain’ btw!!#I really love the concept they’re exploring too of like. Not WANTING a soulmate. Not wanting that bond to be romantic #Bc I know a lot of people’s gripes with soulmate AUs revolves around forced destiny and characters HAVING to end up with each other #Idk I just like it 👉👈#One Piece #Lawlu #Also the idea of platonic soulmates makes me soooo happy #Law and Cora are absolutely platonic soulmates 🥺#Shima speaks

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wu-does-art · 1 year

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miwi!! they def judged people and rolled around in flower fields together

#miwi #stranger things #stranger things fanart #byler #mike wheeler #st mike wheeler #will byers #byler fanart #mike wheeler stranger things #st mike #st will #pre season byler is so cute no matter what age #little idiots #and dorks!!#the little heart can be read romantic or platonic ig but either way its love #my take? i mean idk what age they are here but something between 6-8 maybe #and i think they starting having budding feelings by 7/8 and when they where 12 it was like haha i am experiencing crush symptoms #so here imo its like. yeah he jus loves him alot #but like in a i love this person way with a lil budding crush in the bg but thats it if yk what i mean #mike grabbed wills are while they were snoozin btw #just yanked it #claimed it #will was too tired to notice #yes those are bruises on will in the 3rd pic #yes its from lonnie

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i-make-fun-of-spn-characters · 1 year

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Take my "How much of an eeeevil hardcore stan are you" uquiz

According to MEEEEEEEEE

#PSA: on this blog a hardcore stan is someone who simps for a char so hard #that they blame other characters for the bad things their fave did or hate everyone else like pretty intensely and probably in a somewhat.#warped way.#For those who don't know how I use the term #this has been my joke since forever in my don't feed the stans after midnight tag but some may be unaware <3 #just loving a character or saying they did nothing wrong should not get you a result about hating the others.#idk how sensitive the poll results are either tho since it's basically like a pass/fail tho so *shrug*#i think this is an issue also for samcas (platonic or romantic) which is SUPPOSED to be an option but apparently they are getting served #accusations of being cas haterz my apologies 😔#poll #don't feed the stans after midnight

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emblazons · 16 days

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(I do. love you).

Phoenixflare Week || Day 7: Free Day Joshua's Influence on Dion + Futile Devices

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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 2 months

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Blanche (Yandere Oc)

tw: depiction of abuse, stalking, heavy gore, violence, captivity, torture, human excrement, like really gross stuff, lots of words 4.5k

"Oh, why, hello my darling dove." You approached the man with the kindest, deep blue eyes you have ever seen. He sets his notebook and pen down on the table nearby. He stood up from his garden chair and opened his arms wide as he smiled, his sweet, downturned eyes closing into crescents. The corner of his eyes and mouth wrinkled in genuine happiness upon seeing you.

You hugged him, allowing his gorgeous, tight curls to brush against your arms. You wonder how he could maintain such Rapunzel-esque hair that reaches the back of his knees, especially when it's deceptively short. You remember unraveling one of his curls, to find out that it's twice as long than it originally presented itself as. If it was straightened, it would be pooling around his feet like a massive flood.

"How are you, my sweet? Did you have a wonderful day?" He asked, his voice honeyed and at a higher pitch than how he usually talks to others. His long, natural nails gently raked through your hair, while you played with his pitch-black but streaked with the lightest of grey strands.

You told him that you were thirsty, and you asked if he had anything for you to drink.

"Of course, my beloved flower. Come, let me lead you to my kitchen." You removed yourself from him as he wrapped his fingers around your hand. The man picked his cane up that was resting on the side of his chair. He then hummed a happy tune to himself as he leisurely walked away from his resting spot in the garden, bringing you along with him.

You peered up at the tall, loving man. You always thought that he had a peculiar sense of fashion, especially in this modern day. He looks like someone straight out of the romantic era, around the 1800s. The man, who you know as Blanche, would never be seen without his dark brown waistcoat, a tailcoat of a similar color, white frilly cravat, and long beige trousers. Likewise, he brings his antique, wooden cane wherever he goes.

You don't think you have ever seen him wear anything else other than his polished leather shoes and black garden boots. You certainly never seen slippers around his cottage home.

"Here you go, my darling." He handed you a cup of fresh juice. "I just squeezed them this morning. I can only hope to have my oranges as sweet as you, but I believe it should at least taste decent." Blanche caressed the side of your face as you drank, kissing the top of your head.

Once you're done, you grin and thank him earnestly. He simply nuzzled his charming Greek nose against yours. "You're very welcome, my dear dove."

You like how calm he is, it's evident in the way he speaks; he speaks slowly and softly as if there wasn't a single rush in the world, perhaps sometimes it's frustrating that it takes him an eternity to finish a sentence, but living in a reality where the fast and the furious is greatly rewarded, Blanche is a nice escape for you. Especially when you're exhausted and anxious.

His movements too, remind you of a carefree snail. He takes his time doing anything ever. You watched him pour himself some juice for himself in the same cup, you would have done it in half the time he took to do so.

"My light, are you hungry?" He asked before taking a sip of juice. You said yes, you're a bit famished after making that long trek into the forest to find his home, you just came right after your classes too. "That's wonderful. I just made a blueberry pie today." He walked to the kitchen window, where you saw a delicious, golden brown pie slowly cooling. Blanche picked it up and set it down on the chipped, dining table.

"How was school, my dear?" Asked Blanche as he opened his drawers and cupboards agonizingly slowly to find the appropriate cutlery for you and him.

You reminded him that you're studying in university, He seemed to ignore that. So you continued, telling him that it was exhausting and boring, you wished that your lecturers would be a bit more entertaining in teaching the materials.

"That's quite a shame." He cut a slice and placed it on a ceramic saucer with painted floral patterns on it. Blanche gently sets it in front of you, putting a small dessert fork on the same plate.

You then went on to tell him the good news: the creep who has been trying to get into your pants for the past few days must have given up because you didn't see him around anymore.

"That's nice, dear." He smiled, gathering a couple of serviettes from a drawer nearby and setting it on the table.

You dug in as always, the man smiled at you, feeling his heart swell in glee as you enjoyed his baking.

He gave himself a slice too and sat in front of you. Then, you asked him about his day.

"Oh, the usual. Deary and dull before you come along and fill it with such vibrant colors. I'm so happy that you're visiting me today, I was lonely." He replied, cutting the slice into small pieces first.

The way you met Blanche was somewhat bizarre, but you're glad that you met him. he's the comfort that you need in this world. You would always go to him when things get tough, he will tell you that everything is going to be okay; and you would only believe him, no one else.

You met him online, there was this website where people from all walks of life visit to make friends. You initially used it to date or do one-night stands to try and fill the void in your life, but you end up finding sweet, old Blanche. You find it humorous and sad that his own profile described him as a very lonely and eccentric middle-aged man, who is looking for someone to love. He didn't specify what type of love he is seeking, but he expressed his displeasure and sadness towards previous online 'friends' of his taking advantage of his kindness and desperation to have a companion- stealing his money, robbing his house and even beating him up numerous times because he was perceived as this weak, old man.

You felt your heartstrings being tugged at as you read the words, he was really begging whoever was making those numerous fake accounts to stop harassing him. Apparently, some younger folks thought it was funny to cyber bully him, reveal private information online, send him death threats, and send him disgusting, gut-wrenching hate messages just because he wasn't as well versed in the internet as the others.

Luckily, one day, they just stopped. Ceasing all torment towards the kind man. No one knew what happened, but from that day on, no one tried to talk to him anymore. It's all radio silence.

Until you came along and decided to give it a try. It takes him a good amount of time to type a string of text, but it's always meaningful, poetic, and beautiful. He sends paragraphs as if he's writing a letter to be sent through a carrier pigeon.

The first time you met Blanche, you were filled to the brim with anxiety. Shaking and gnawing on your fingers as you take the bus to the cafe you and him were supposed to meet. This isn't someone who's the same age as you, he is much older and you feel... Weird. There isn't anything wrong with seeking friendships with him because you're an adult, you know what you're doing.

But it's so... Different. You don't know what to expect.

You definitely didn't expect the instant warmth that brought your panic and anxiousness to an all time low. Something about his vibes, his looks and the way he carried himself was so soothing. He didn't have to say anything, all he did was look your way and gave you such a genial wave along with a toothy smile.

The afternoon went swimmingly, it wasn't awkward at all; it was as if you were talking with a close, guardian-like family member. You were comfortable, maybe a bit too comfortable because you realized you overshared after you went back home. You really didn't have to tell him about your stomach problems you're suffering at the moment in such detail.

The next time you met up with Blanche, he gave you a wooden box filled with teabags of his homegrown herbs. He claimed it will help cure your condition as long as you drink it.

You didn't really believe him, thinking he's just some old fart who practices pseudoscience and most likely doesn't agree with the use of vaccines. But you decided to brew some of his tea anyways, since he seems so excited to share you a part of his world.

To your surprise and embarrassment, it got rid of the symptoms. You're no longer bloated on most days and you feel great.

Now, you would just describe to him whatever is plaguing you; it could be insomnia, a common cold, or even your crippling mental health crises. Blanche would always have something growing on his land that would cure it.

That is where you learned that he lives in a cottage, in the middle of a forest. His garden is extensive, planting all sorts of trees, shrubs, shoots and flowers. He has the greenest thumb you have ever seen. You once gave him a pot of succulents which you thought were dead, due to your failure to water it at all. Blanche looked positively horrified at the condition of the poor plant in the beginning, but he assured you that it's okay, he can help it.

You were confused, you gave it to him because you thought he would use the clay pot. But instead, he returned it to you with its planty resident healthy and plump. You knew it was the same one because it looked exactly like how you first bought it.

Blanche gave you a handwritten card of instructions on how to take care of your new, leafy friend. You tried your best to follow it, but ultimately, you gave it back to him. It now rests on the windowsill beside his bed.

Your friendship with him grew as months went by. He would have you in his cottage, you would have him in your shared dorm. To which, he prefers not to step foot into the biohazardous student kitchen. That's why, you're usually visiting him, instead the other way round.

Blanche is lovely to have in your life. Whenever you visit him, you will always leave with a week's worth of groceries; mostly vegetables and fruits that happily grew on his plot of soil. But also, there would be containers upon containers of ready-to-eat meals he cooked prior to your visit.

You became healthier and your grades went up, thanks to the convenience of his delicious cooking. Although they're mostly vegetarian since he's almost solely using produce from his back yard, it's still so tasty even the average carnivore would scarf it down without hesitance.

You're also convinced whatever he adds into his meals are making you smarter. You get to focus on your classes better and you could retain much more information than before. He would excitedly tell you all about the strange and whimsical spices he added into your dish, describing what chemical compounds might be the culprit in helping you form more brain cells.

Aside from planting, he would crochet, knit or sew. And he would churn out items fast. It was so jarring to see his hands move like the insides of a racecar motor when you could fit five eye blinks in one of his own. He was the person who crocheted your laptop bag, your favourite winter and summer top, knitted your beanie, your comfiest pair of socks and your snow gloves.

Whenever there is a rip or tear in your clothes, even if the shoulder straps of your bag fell off, you could simply bring it over to his cottage and he would return it good as new. Being friends with Blanche allowed you to save up a substantial amount of money, you would then use it to buy him a new smartphone. It may not be the most luxurious, but it's definitely worlds away from the yellowed brick phone with a numerical pad he owns.

You think it is time for him to transition into the modern world, and you care for him enough to bust a hole in your already very empty university student wallet to help him. The next thing on your agenda was to buy him a new computer or laptop because he is using one that is ridiculously thick and cuboid; with a terrible screen resolution. It took him half an hour just to access the internet.

He was over the moon upon gifting it to him. To the point of tears, he was indescribably happy. You were worried as to why he was on his knees, hugging you close to him as he sobbed loudly on your shoulder. Initially, you thought you triggered something traumatic or did something to offend him, but Blanche assured you that wasn't the case.

Only after he calmed himself down, prepared a teapot of his homemade tea blend for the two of you, did he explain:

You are his one true friend, who consistently showed up for Blanche, cared for him, showed interest in his character, never hit him, and did not try to swindle money off him. It was surprising and melancholic, to say the least, that this was the only gift he ever received out of love and kindness; without the other party wanting anything in return. It was so nice for once to have someone around who isn't only after his wealth or free labor.

You didn't get how the world could be so cruel to such a kind spirit. It made you angry how he was badly mistreated in the past, but he simply smiled and told you that everyone must move on. Blanche has you, and that is all that matters to him.

You still weren't satisfied. You asked if he had gone to the police, told their parents, told their workplace- anything! They can't just get away without any repercussions, it makes your blood boil and heartache for your friend.

Blanche merely smiled, albeit ominously. He told you not to fret over them, as they eventually "Got what they deserved." He didn't elaborate on that further, you simply assumed that he said what he said due to his overly forgiving nature and not wanting you to worry about his torment.

It wasn't easy teaching him how to use the smartphone, though. Every little thing, he would call you using his rotary phone on how to use it; "Hello, darling. This is Blanche speaking, Could you please come over sometime this afternoon to guide me through the steps on how to surf the interweb on this lovely gadget you gifted me? I seem to have forgotten how to do so."

You think he's just using that as an excuse to hang out with you. Because there is no way he would forget how to tap on a couple of things after the 16th time.

You did ask him about his family. Blanche would tilt his head to the side and give you a saddened smile. Before telling you about how his parents weren't good people, he ran away from home and didn't know the fate of his other siblings. Because of his background and peculiar personality, he found it hard to create lasting bonds as they would always wound up abandoning him or abusing him. He said that he must be excreting some sort of pheromone that attracts people like these.

But he held no ill will towards them, as they "got what they deserved". You brushed that off again as Blanche being too nice to the cruel world.

You're concerned, though. It really seems like you're his only ally. He is definitely clingier now that the friendship has deepened. You're worried that you're going to have to say "no" to some of his requests to have your presence here as he grows more and more unbearable, it's definitely going to break his heart.

"My rose?"

You were snapped out of your thoughts upon feeling Blanche's fingers gently pushing your hair back. You're now back to the present, where you and he are comfortable with light skin-ship, you also liked how he would call you all these pet names. It made you feel so fluttery inside.

"Are you alright, dear? You seem to be distracted with something." He cupped your cheeks and inspected your face further. His eyebrows were knitted in concern.

You said that you were fine, just thinking about your daily obligations and how you should get going soon.

He frowned. "Must you go?" He whispered. "I'm so lonely out here. Please stay for a while longer."

You can't because you have a work shift starting soon. Plus, you have to complete that assignment that you're putting off because you were too busy accompanying Blanche in his isolated Cottage with the world's worst internet connection.

He sighed, looking miserable. "Please wait for a few minutes, I have something for you." Blanche stood up and made his way upstairs.

You watch him ascend the stairs with one hand on the handrails, and the other on his cane. You think that this might be an extremely dangerous lifestyle for a man like him to live, what if he trips and falls? He wouldn't be able to call for help, especially when phone reception out here is atrocious.

You continued eating your slice of blueberry pie, even taking another slice from the dish for yourself. You knew Blanche wouldn't mind, and you knew that he was going to make you bring the entire thing home anyway.

He came back down a few minutes later, holding a brown envelope. Immediately, you went on to reject it. You already knew what was in there and you didn't feel comfortable accepting it.

"Please, I insist, my love." He tried slipping it into your bag, but you wrestled it away from your belongings. You said that you have no use for it, you can make your own money.

For the past few weeks, he has been giving you regular allowances. It isn't anything to scoff at either, it's always one grand per envelope. Now you can see why there were so many people who tried to siphon as much funds out of Blanche as possible.

"I have no doubt in my heart that you are capable, but I... I'd like to buy your time, please." He clasped his hands around yours, bringing your fingers to his soft lips. "I want to spend more time with you, I want you to stay longer. Will you do that for me, my love?"

You paused, it was hard to say no to those big, pleading eyes of his. But you have to, even if you don't necessarily have to work with Blanche's financial help, you still need to put in effort in your studies to not fail.

So with a heavy chest, you said no. You promised that you would visit him again very soon, you just need to get your assignments out of the way and you will be golden.

His shoulders sagged in defeat as he softly whimpered under his breath.

"Alright." He muttered, before reviving the loving smile on his lips.

He opened his arms, to which you gladly threw yourself in. He laughed, picking you up and pressing kisses against your cheek. Blanche tenderly twirled you around, letting your legs dangle in the air as you too giggled. You rubbed your face against his frilly cravat, also enjoying the feeling of his lips on the crown of your head.

Blanche is now alone in his garden. His lips were pressed in a thin straight line. You left a few minutes ago with his personal cart filled with his fresh produce for the week. And also the remaining blueberry pie that is stashed away in a container for convenience. He hopes that the eggs he gave you are enough to last until your next visit, his chickens are producing a bit less than usual.

He picked up his pen and notebook he left on the garden table earlier. Blanche then tucked the cane under his arm before marching away without wasting any time. Without you witnessing, Blanche actually moves scarily quick, his graceful agility allows him to traverse the span of his garden speedily without damaging any of his crops.

Blanche walked deeper and deeper into the foilage until the sunlight could barely be seen through the dense vegetation.

Eventually, he reached a dilapidated wooden shed. Blanche stood right in front of the door with a heavy lock and took out his golden stopwatch from his breast pocket. The male noted the time before writing it down in his notebook.

He kept them away, Blanche then fished out a key, along with a hairband from another pocket in his trousers. His lower eyelid twitched as he tied his voluptuous hair into a large, very messy bun. But at least it's not going to interfere too much with what he's about to do.

He unlocked the door and pushed it open using his shoulder, it was hard to move it as the hinges had rusted to a considerable degree. Blanche dusted his sleeve off before taking out his notebook again, noting that he had to replace its parts soon.

Finally, he kept everything back in his pockets. Blanche tightened his fists in anger as pathetic muffled screaming and wailing reached his ears.

"Oh, be quiet, will you?" He snarked, a complete 180° from the Blanche that you're used to. Luckily, you're not here to see it.

He turned around to see your harasser. Completely naked and covered in bloody, infected lacerations. His face and body were blue from bruises and other injuries. He was gagged using his own clothes that were cut up by Blanche. His victim couldn't escape if he wanted to, as he was tightly bound by metal chains that were cutting circulation around his wrists and ankles.

There was rot, maggots, blood, and excretory products all around him as the bodies of Blanche's ex-friends decomposed around the creep. He was squirming in his own puddle of urine and vomit, as Blanche has kept him there since yesterday, right after you went home from your last class.

He is used to the smell of death. He worked with natural fertilizers, after all.

Blanche took long strides towards his trembling form, which only shook even more the closer he got.

He lets out a shout when Blanche strikes him using the end of his cane, the force is so strong that it instantly breaks the skin on his head, making him bleed profusely.

Blanche's eyelids twitched even more, he suddenly discarded his cane before pulling out two brass knuckles from his left pant pocket. He hastily puts them on before throwing powerful punches against his current, human punching bag.

Cracks, screams, and crunches resonated throughout the small space as Blanche let out all his frustrations on him. All his hatred towards the world, his anguish, and misery of not being around you, all of it- your harasser has to bear. Just because he chose the wrong person to mess with.

Blood, spit, and other fluids splattered on his once pristine clothing, dying his cravat red.

"Fucking disgrace." He mumbled as he managed to beat the man to a pulp, striking him hard and long enough to expose the broken bones to the stagnant air. Blanche continued scraping the flesh off his bone using the brass, there is an easier way to extract his bones, but he would very much rather use this method to relieve him of his rage. And, this delivers the maximum amount of pain and fear into your offender, a justified punishment for him, for disturbing Blanche's precious flower's peace.

Sweat beads down Blanche's forehead as he went on whaling on the unconscious, deformed mass that was starting to lose heat. Ichor pooled around his shoes, mixing with the other foul fluids around him.

Once he has managed to liquefy his flesh from his repeated, rapid pummeling, Blanche dug his bare fingers into the gory heap to extract the bones, gathering them in his arms and not caring that he has dirtied himself greatly.

He grunted as he ripped the bones from its weakened ligaments, spraying scarlet all over the already viscera-covered walls.

Blanche panted as he stood up straight, one arm holding his yield, the other hand taking out his once clean pocketwatch, now he's soiling it with bloodied fingerprints.

Five hours. Five whole hours of brutalization to pacify Blanche from his sorrow of watching you cut your visit short, due to some silly little assignments. He shook his head, he could have used all that time doing something else, but he needed to take care of this bastard anyway.

Now that he's not as upset, he took his time documenting whatever he did in his notebook which is equally covered in biohazardous grime.

He then turned around, and picked up his cane, not bothering to face the mutilated, unrecognizable mass of meat behind him one last time. Blanche was already thinking about what to do next as he locked the shed up, the previous bloodied fingerprints on the pad were washed away by the rain a few days prior.

He lets his mind wander to you, thinking about what you're doing right now. Blanche knows there is zero chance of you calling or contacting him through the phone because he knows that you're now at this stupid house party instead of working on your assignment like you told him.

Blanche isn't as tech-illiterate as you think. He is also not that gullible, he knows more than you believe or could ever imagine.

He wishes that you would be a bit more truthful towards him. But as of now, he's content with the amount and quality of bones he managed to harvest.

He made the long walk back to his cottage in the dark, his eyes already adapted to the darkness from decades of 'gardening' at night.

Blanche was mentally calculating the amount of time and heat needed to dehydrate the bones, to make them into bonemeal for his chickens. He suspected that they weren't producing as many eggs as usual because their calcium count was low, so the shell wouldn't be developing properly.

But thoughts of you kept interrupting his head. Blanche would smile, looking forward to your next visit. He would definitely have enough eggs for you by then.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere male #yandere concept #tw yandere #yandere x you #yandere oc x reader #male yandere oc x reader #oc Blanche #ngl idk if i should make it platonic or romantic #but i guess this old man is my first platonic yandere #well maybe its in the same vein of yandere older brother #where the love is pretty dubious??#i too would like to sex the old man

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