❛𝐼𝑛𝑓𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛❜ [LMK Oneshots] (Platonic & Romantic Yandere)

Muse (SpicyNoodles)

TW: Body Disfiguration or Horror(?), Mature Themes, Kidnapping, Forced Preservation and Toxic Mindset

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"Why are you showing me this painting?"

The crimson-eyed demon questioned curiously. His hands, tying his equally red hair, into an uptight, yet long ponytail, using the yellow ribbon, that was around his wrist as a makeshift hair tie

Red Son's melancholy eyes scanned the entire painting, giving the brunette a puzzled expression, on why he was being shown, a morbid artwork

It was a long painting, a standard size for something horizontal, with the center of attention being an androgynous figure; showing off their sickly pale skin, as if it was trapped, in a tiny compartment for decades with no windows or doors, making the skin, lack any life.

But, It does seem flawless at the same time, His warm orange eyes trailed down to the figure's limbs which were twisted in certain degrees that seemed inhumanely impossible, due to the other hands pulling and tugging, on the poor human-or living creature, like some sort of raggedy-ann doll.

Rough, and calloused hands clamped firmly around the neck, blocking the figure's airway or oxygen and would surely leave a nasty dark bruise.

Their ribcages could be seen poking out from their skin, begging to be set free from the fleshy confinement.

"Isn't it obvious?" A hushed voice answered his question as they intently gazed at the fiery demon.

He, slightly adjusted his glasses, finally getting prescription glasses that actually fit the frame, of his head shape. Even when claiming to be a genuis, Red Son, was puzzled and wasn't sure what the human boy, covered in different laysrs of paint, even wanted.

It was too unpredictable
He refrained, from touching the painting though, as much as he wanted to brush his fingertips, against the piece of art, It would ruin the fine piece.
It was oddly, realistic.

The artwork was detailed to the point, If one were to stare long at it, They would notice how cracked the fingernails were, Those same nails dug deep into the muse's fleshy skin, making blood prick out but was a small amount and easily overlooked.

With closer inspection, It was clear that, hands, tightly clamped, the muse's limbs, in a possessive manner, skin practically being squeezed.

"I want you to be my muse"

With that being said, Red Son could feel tight hands, clamping his neck, and blocking his airway, just like in the painting.