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

Without You (Red Son x MK)

TW: Character Death

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Red Son stared at the dancing flame on his palm, a miniature representation of the one he had lost—MK. The flickering fire took on familiar contours, shaping itself into the image of his beloved. Red Son couldn't help but watch, his eyes reflecting the play of fire as it twirled on his hand, echoing the presence he so dearly missed.

Its fire gleamed and made a comforting crackling noise. The demon stared at it longingly; His luminous eyes reflected the fire and watched as it twirled on his hand as if it was dancing on his fingertips.

The fiery silhouette illuminated Red's distinct facial features, showing the puffiness of his eyes.

The silhouette was a painful reminder of what life truly is. Red Son loved MK profoundly, the only human being that made him open his eyes and that the world could offer so much more, so much love—but the reality of his absence lingered.

He longed for his presence, he hated how he dearly missed every aspect of his beloved mortal, even his corny puns or the way MK used to laugh so loudly that it would hurt his eardrums.

Oh, how he missed every inch of MK.
Even all the flaws, that irritated him.

The demon let out a bitter chuckle, it had been years since his untimely departure— time was such a cruel mistress.

Hot tears streamed down his cheeks before evaporating into steam. Oh how, he would give his soul to have his lover in his arms!

He trembled down as his knees shook, being crushed by his weight.

Pain and grief surged through him, the flames intensifying in response, seeping through the surroundings, consuming everything in its path.

The fire that was once on his palms, spread across the house, devouring pictures, gifts, and mementos shared with MK. Red Son's cries echoed in the fiery chaos, the pain of loss overwhelming him. Clenching the fabric over his chest, he felt the searing agony, the fire of grief burning as fiercely as the flames that now engulfed their shared home.

Amid the devastation, Red Son looked up, his tear-streaked eyes fixating on the vivid image of MK, replicated in the flames. It beckoned him with an outstretched hand as if urging him to rise. Red Son, hesitant yet desperate, reached out, finding solace in the warmth that didn't fade away this time.

Together, they let the house burn to ashes, the physical remnants of their shared life turning into memories consumed by the flames. Grief overwhelmed Red Son as he allowed both his internal and external worlds to be engulfed by the all-consuming fire.

He let the house burn to ashes, with him in it—the memories turning into ashes.

What was the point of trying to save it?
What even was the point of trying to save himself? It only gave him pain. Looking at the sweet little trinkets and knowing those stayed longer than his lover, what a bitter reminder. He cried out, letting out all his cries, his screams.

Red son couldn't live without him.

His throat hurt, it burned but he couldn't help it, he screamed out in pure agony.

The grief consumed his entire body, the same way as he allowed his flames to consume him all.

In the end, only fragments of memories remained, a poignant testament to a love that had been, and a pain that persisted even in the ashes of what was once their home.