My one inked drawing for October! I wish I could make clean lines in traditional art, but my hands are too shaky! So, my focus is to just make the art look decent enough. :3
So, have a Ramon and Rayman! Strange...have I seen this scene somewhere before?
Notes: i wrote this while high and didn't edit it so sorry if it's funky
WC: 792
Notes: Yandere, implied kidnapping, implied death (not of reader), nonconsensual kissing, Mahito being a menace.
“Look what I got you!”
The words that left Mahito’s mouth instantly have you on guard. You warily turn towards your captor, narrowing your eyes at the generic bag that he excitedly shakes in your direction. Anything Mahito gave you was never what it seemed - there were no gifts without strings, nor was anything given to you without purpose. Whether it was to terrify or to sicken or to make you beg for him to stop, there was always a reason.
Mahito ignores your expressions and bounds over to you, dumping the bag out all over the couch cushion next to you. It takes you a moment to register what you’re seeing, your eyes darting between Mahito and the pile on the couch.
Next to you sits a pile of various items, the one thing they had in common being their reason for existence: the celebration of 2024. The new year…? It couldn’t be. It’d… there was no way it had been that long. Mahito kept the time and date from you, but you swore you’d been somewhat accurate in counting the days that had passed. You want to ask him if this is some kind of joke, but no words make it past your scratchy throat.
You look up at him, mouth parted - and the unnaturally large smile that seems to span his entire face answers the words that refuse to pass your lips. Mahito’s hand comes to your face and for one millisecond you think it’s all over before he simply squishes your cheeks together with his fingers.
“Are you so happy you can’t speak?” Mahito presses his fingers into your cheeks upward to push your lips into a crude smile, only stopping when he presses so hard that you whimper. “There you go. If you can’t speak, you can at least give me a smile after I went to the trouble of getting you this stuff.”
Mahito grabs one of the accessories from the pile - a party hat with a generic New Year quote - and places it on your head, adjusting it so that the band under your chin is just so. He grabs a noise maker for himself and startles you by leaning forward to blow it in your face, leaning back to cackle when you jolt away.
“You know, this is one of those human holidays I don’t really get.” Mahito waves the noise maker as he speaks, specks of glitter falling to the floor. “All the humans I took this stuff from seemed to be having fun. Especially the couples.”
The humans…? Your blood turns ice-cold in an instant. While Mahito rambles, you force yourself to look back at the pile. You hadn’t noticed it before, but there was a faint, metallic smell in the air. It was different than the sickeningly sweet stink of rot that clung to Mahito.
It smelled fresh.
If you looked hard enough in the pile, there’s no doubt that you’d find several things spattered with blood.
Mahito startles you out of your shock when his hands are suddenly on your shoulder, the icy cold chill of his skin biting even through your clothing. “Hey. Are you listening?”
You nod, still unable to speak, but Mahito doesn’t retreat from your space. He presses in forward until his lips nearly rest against yours, and you struggle not to recoil at the scent of iron that clings to his mouth.
“We were supposed to kiss at midnight, but since you don’t know what time it is, now is as good as ever.”
Mahito places his lips against yours, surprisingly chaste, and pulls away. “I forgot to tell you. You’re the only person I’ve kept long enough to see a new year go by with.” He gives you no time to react before he leans in again to capture your lips in a domineering kiss, ignoring your groan of discomfort when he wrenches your mouth open with his inhuman tongue and licks the inside of it. He stops again, pulling back in full this time.
Mahito places his hand on your shoulder like you’d seen him do before to the many humans he’d mutilated and forced you to watch. Paralyzed by fear, feeling ridiculous with the hat on your head that had most definitely belonged to a now-dead person, you finally manage to squeak out a plea for mercy. “Mahito, please don’t hurt me!”
“Calm down, cutie. I just wanted to wish you a proper new year for our first time together.”
Mahito lifts the noise maker he’d shoved in his pocket to his lips and blows it hard, giggling like a child when he pulls it away from his mouth.
“Happy New Year! And if you’re lucky, you’ll be here next year too~”
Frantic fingers spindle across the inky blackness, taking hold of taut strings the colour of poison. You retch slightly as they pull apart in your hands, bursting like blood vessels and staining everything they touch with the stench of death.
You snap wires.
And all the while, his voice bores into your skull, wheeling and dealing even as he tries to kill you. Even as you try your very hardest to give him what he wants.
You snap wires.
SOUL burning hot like a phoenix in its final moments, shooting down offer after offer, pleading with this jittering, broken creature to stop, stop, please stop before one of us does something we're both going to regret...
You snap wires.
You can't remember how long you've been doing this for. You don't even know what you're doing, why you ever listened to his words in the first place. What had he promised in the space between his outbursts... and to whom?
And still, you snap wires. It's either that or die.
So you snap, and you snap, and you snap, and you
snap
Then there's only one left, shimmering in the darklight, so gossamer-thin that you cannot comprehend how it can still support the clanking, man-shaped junk it's attached to. He spins around it like a demented ballerina, professing heartfelt thanks to the friends he was trying to murder mere seconds before. Pleading with you to cut the final cord, to make him a real boy.
Your fingers move before you can respond. And the sound of his cold, lifeless body slamming into the ground stays with you for the rest of your life. The shock is so great that you almost collapse yourself, adrenaline finally loosing its death-grip on your body.
You are wracked with a great and terrible sigh, before you--/
/--snap wires.
...strings the colour of poison... bursting like blood vessels... stench of death.
...you've been here before, you realise, as you snap wires.
He wheels and deals, firing everything he has at you in a vain attempt to get you to give him what he wants. You would if you could... if it had ever been in your power to do so.
All you can do now is snap wires. And that is all you do.
Your fingers move on their own, as if compelled by an outside force. Pinch and twist, reminding you of shelling peas with your mom before Sunday dinner.
You can't recall the last time you saw her. You think that perhaps you should apologise to her if you ever make it out of here alive. You were always such a wilful child. Always getting into trouble of some kind or another.
And now here you were, making deals with something you couldn't even begin to fathom.
You cannot hear your friends anymore - they do not respond to you calls. And the salesman seems to become all-encompassing before you, drunk on ill-gotten power - power you helped him acquire. You close your eyes as he makes you an offer that you are unable to refuse.
Pain washes over you, and you--/
/--snap wires.
Poison... Blood... Death... this could be the fifth time; it could be the five-hundredth time. It doesn't matter, because all you can do is snap wires.
The salesman screams at you, and your SOUL screams back, roaring with anger and pain and frustration. Does it want the same thing as you do? Is it... trying to help? Or... or is this just a game to it. Fighting the same battle again and again, trying for a high score?
You ponder this as it makes you snap wires.
Perhaps this was punishment for trying too hard. For trying to help somebody who seemed to be suffering. You never understood what your mother meant when she told you the road to hell was paved with good intentions. To your child's mind, not yet versed in the world's wicked ways, this statement was a nonsense, an affront.
But now you get it, as you snap wires. Oh God, do you understand.
You always knew he was the same as you. Something BIG had seized his heart, just as it has seized yours. Prisoners of a destiny that was not theirs. You saw a caged bird crying for release, but you did not see the venomous spider using its corpse as a suit. In trying to make him more like you, you exposed yourself to the risk of becoming more like him.
Damaged. Deranged. Desperate. Dangerous.
And as your fingers become snared in his wires, and you stare transfixed into each other's eyes, you see the fate set out before you, and scream.
He was once friends with the previous owner of his Souljam. His friend gave him the souljam before they left for unknown reasons. While exploring his friend was fatally injured in a explosion. He is unaware his friend has passed away and believes that they're still out there.
