diy-dynamite

[diy-dynamite]

Sorry for making u wait bffs 😞 my sat exam is coming up and I am fearing for my life rn

Listen idk what ur religion is but. Pray for me (if u want to) I need all the help I can get 💔

[diy-dynamite]

hey hey i hope yk its okay and that most are okay if its targeted towards the fem readers bc the mc of homicipher is confirmed female. but i love that you include gn 🫶🏻

OH THANK U SO MUCHHH I got worried for a sec 😭 may the moon and stars shine upon u tysm bff ♡♡♡

[diy-dynamite]

Hello! Is it possible for you to write cuddling headcanons for Mr. Crawling and Mr. Scarletella? :D

I DO WRITE FOR MR SCARLETELLA!! I GOT U :3

Wanna Be With You || cuddling hcs

Featuring: Mr. Crawling, Mr. Scarletella

Contents: SPOILERS 4 HOMICIPHER, "Blissful Love Life" and one of Scarletella's endings that I 4got the name to

********

(Based more on the Blissful Love Life Ending)

☆ it's obvious that Mr. Crawling is clingy. High maintenance, even. He doesn't force you into anything, obviously, but he'd DIE (again) and melt into a glob on the floor when you offer to cuddle with him for the first time.

☆ his love languages are definitely acts of service, words of affirmation, and touch, but BIIIIIG on touch. Source: trust me bro.

☆ whenever you're lying down, he's GOT to be either right next to you or resting on your torso and lower the same way a dog would sleep at the foot of your bed.

☆ he'd whimper and whine if you kicked him off—which you wouldn't, I hope. He's attached to you by the hip!

☆ to add onto this, you don't have to see him to know how this man instantly switches to search mode whenever you get separated. You hear from your other friends (specifically, Mr. Chopped with his gossipy mouth and his tendency to always be in dire situations) that he gets very agitated when you're away from him for too long. He also mentioned that despite Mr. Crawly's frustration, he was kind enough to bring Mr. Chopped back to safety.

☆ so... don't put him through more torture than he already is now, having to crawl and scrape his palms and knees every time he moves, and let him hold you every night!!!!

☆ Mr. Crawly doesn't care AT ALL what cuddling position he's in. He wants to hold you, he wants you to hold him—all of it is a win!

☆ he's MOST fond of sleeping right on top of you, though. He's like a weighted, cold blanket. You'd be lying on your back while he'd be lying on his stomach, smiling contently as he listens to your resting heart and calmed breathing.

☆ he also likes sleeping on top of you because he gets to shield you.

☆ idt this man is messy... he's probably gonna lay so still that you'd think he was back to being a corpse. Maybe during the first few nights, he'd be tossing and turning to try and find a position for himself that doesn't hurt either one of you AND is comfortable.

☆ you don't have to worry about being uncomfortable because yk damn well he'd be adjusting himself to suit your tastes. #ifhewantedtohewould like bffr...!

☆ anyway. He's a 10/10 in cuddling. He's really touchy, so if you let him cuddle with you, he'd be HORRIBLY sad if you didn't let him the next day.

********

(Based on the ending where he becomes our prop/servant, idk)

♡ now. We all know Mr. Scarletella is obsessed in a way that parallels Mr. Crawling's. (And I'll just use "Mr. Red" to refer to him bc I'm too lazy to type his whole name out)

♡ anyway! Mr. Red isn't as touchy as Mr. Crawly. He prefers words of affirmation over everything else, but he does enjoy touch.

♡ every time you touch his hand or just hold him over your shoulder as you walk, UGH—if he were a teenage human girl, he'd be kicking his feet up with his homegirls on the phone like "Oh my god!!" and all that.

♡ anyway, as for positions; I'm torn between whether he likes ANY that has him holding you, or you holding him.

♡ him holding you: he wants to return the favour! Since you're always holding him, he wants to be the one to curl up around you, this time.

♡ he wants you to know that despite him being yours, you're also his. With a long arm slung over your shoulders and his legs just behind yours, he wants the chance to feel like he's doing something for you.

♡ you holding him: selfish fucker. He wants more of the touch you give him. He'd already do anything for you, so you might as well give him this. Right?

♡ at the same time, he doesn't have much of a reason why he wants to hold you. Maybe he just wants to. Perhaps he flickers back and forth, too, depending on the day.

♡ he's just as high maintenance as Crawly, but he's a little tougher and has his own wants that sometimes might not align with yours.

♡ he gets what he wants no matter what. You would know.

♡ but hey. The cuddles are great! Very comfy if you can take his stiffness for a couple of nights since he isn't used to it yet.

♡ 8.5/10. 5 for the cuddle quality, 3.5 for the intent...?

********

I HOPE THIS IS TO YOUR LIKINGS GUYS :3 it's like. 3:47 am where I am rn... if there are mistakes, disregard them bc I probably already know about them I just don't care yet at this time of day

[diy-dynamite]

THE SHRIEK I SHRUKKED WAS SO SHRIEKY

[diy-dynamite]

Blissful Love

Mr. Crawling x Pregnant Reader || BLISSFUL LOVE LIFE ENDING

Requested by anon in my dms :3

I didn't know how to do this in story mode so I'm just doing this in the bullet point way idk what it's called 😭

Anyway since it's pregnancy I guess it's a fem reader bc I don't do mpreg. And idk much ab pregnancy so I chose not to include anythimh about the birthing process HELP . Hope this is fine!!

Mr. Crawly here does NOT remember the meaning of pregnancy, so you had to remind/teach him...

You: "... have human. Here." *points at his tummy*

Him: "oh! You hungry??"

It'll take you a good 2 hours until you give up. He won't understand it too much until he notices your stomach grow

Him: "Why... big?"

You: "BOY..????"

You had to hold up pictures for him to see. Like you nearly considered quitting being a serial killer and became a teacher instead because you had to scoop in the back of your mind to remember your old biology classes in order to teach him.

With the help of patience, painkillers, and a PowerPoint presentation with 41 slides, he finally gets it.

Turns out that he DOES know what pregnancy is. He just didn't know the term for it since recreating and respawning don't exactly exist amongst him and his kind.

He'd be the type to call it (your stomach) "little me", and would 100% be the kind of guy to lean his ear against it to try to hear his little one.

Whenever he does, he chirps and laughs. "Baby!" He'd squeal in the human tongue because you taught him so. "My baby!"

Later on, you couldn't go out and kill because of the baby. You never felt major pain, since the baby barely kicked—probably the effect of having a no-longer-human being as the father—but if you went out and killed, you'd be dragged down by what was growing inside you.

You'd think he was too kind to kill for a meal, and you'd think right. He just ate whatever raw, bloody animal meat you had leftover in the fridge. He didn't mind it—as long as you were alright.

His senses were already heightened when you weren't pregnant, so it'd just shoot through the roof now that you are.

If you want guests over, that's too bad. He's on FULL lockdown mode and WILL bite anyone who tries to intrude on your shared space.

Overall, he's a solid 9/10, just -1 because you had to put yourself through those high-school days where presentations were your sole responsibility.

[diy-dynamite]

You're not invited to my homicipher themed birthday party.

A short comic I made based on one of the endings

⚠️ Spoiler warning for END08 ⚠️

Read from left to right ➡️

[diy-dynamite]

This would make sense

With how often Gap messes with the living, and Scarletella observes the MC giving him "sacrifices" you'd think they would learn human languages.

[diy-dynamite]

Longing for Home (2)

Mr. Crawling x Reader || use of fem terms

Content: spoilers for Homicipher, game-typical violence

You won't understand this without reading the first part !!

********

THE wedding began smoother than you thought. No one crashed. Everyone had fun, and you and your loving husband-to-be sat beside you with the ceremony about to begin.

You were the happiest human alive, your smile already hurting your face. You thought of all the slivers of heaven you'd find with him. You thought of his smile. Love itself is pitiful in comparison to him.

You remembered further back.

When both your families introduced each other at twelve.

When he hurt his legs at fifteen. Your mother was a doctor, your father was a physical therapist—and you?

You were his friend. He was yours.

Now you're almost his.

You just completed your vows when everything came tumbling down in a violent, raging rumble from the cores of the earth.

You never got to go home with him.

"Don't apologise," he shushed your tears, brushing a shaking hand against your eyelids. "As long as it's with you," he choked. You were too weak to open your eyes. "I don't care."

"Dying is nothing," he coughed. You felt the warmth of his hand against your cheek once more, and he curled his body against yours, his head against your chest.

"As long as I'm with you."

~~~~~

You finally stepped out from behind the curtains to reveal yourself to the creature who you believed you met in only this life.

If Mr. Crawling had eyes, they'd be glittering. He was giggling, crawling up to you, his head craned upward in adoration.

He let out a sound—it felt like a "wow".

You brought your stained hands to hold his face, and he quickly interlocked your fingers with his before lunging forward with whatever strength he had in his legs, pushing you to sit on the hospital bed behind you with your back against the wall. He cooed happily with you beneath him, his head on your chest, as always.

Something felt so familiar with how his hand felt enclosed around yours. The cold of his skin made you feel more alive than you were when you were human.

"Not sad?" he said, chin against the centre of your chest. "No more crying?"

Your brows furrowed, and he froze, his smile disappearing again in concern.

That made you laugh, which made him laugh.

"With you?" you began, tucking his hair behind his ear. You didn't actually move it. You just wanted to hold his face. "Happy."

There goes his little giggle.

"With you, I home," he suddenly said.

You could've sworn you felt tears again.

You bit your sobbing back. All you could offer him was yourself. It was the same for him.

"Rotting doesn't seem so bad," you said more to yourself than to him. He tilted his head in confusion, his hair hanging off the side of his face.

You snickered.

"As long as I'm with you."

********

Short but hopefully it was sweet enough for u guys

Idk I think it feels off. I might be missing something

ANYWAY THIS IS 4 THOSE WHO WANTED PT 2 SINCE YALL LOVED PT 1 SO MUCH 🔥🔥🔥‼️‼️‼️

[diy-dynamite]

I think this is called a master list?? (For Homicipher)

Mr. Crawling

Television Series: Pt1 Pt2

Will update once more comes in... :3

Longing for Home: Pt1, Pt2

(HCS) Pregnant Reader

(HCS) Cuddling (ft. Mr. Scarletella)

[diy-dynamite]

Longing for Home (1)

Mr. Crawling x Reader || feminine terms used (wedding dress 😭) so I think this is for the fems... I'm sorry guys

Contents: spoilers for one of Homicipher's endings that I don't remember, NOT a part of my "Television" series (but I might make a version of this for that)

********

YOU never found your way back home. With your skin stained with red, rash-like patches, and with your body slowly conforming through regenerative cycles, your home is no longer the one you knew.

This is your home.

Your home is in this strange building.

Your home is in the room next to Mr. Silvair and Mr. Chopped's.

Your home is on one of the two hospital beds that stand next to each other.

Your home is standing in front of you.

Or crawling, rather.

He was leading you back to the room after your usual wandering, collecting cute trinkets from the piles that fell from the human world. You came back with an arm full of things, and surprisingly, the majority were makeup.

Not the major glam kind, but stuff like lip gloss, lipstick, mascara, and powdery stuff for the eyes that you can't remember—and it hurts that you forgot what it was.

You laid them out on your bed, Mr. Crawling sitting on the ground next to you, looking at what you brought back with a puzzled look on his face.

He called all of them "things," which isn't entirely wrong.

Pop! An idea went off in your sneaky little head.

"You like me?" you asked out of the blue, turning to him with lip gloss in hand.

He tilted his head and chirped a little, ridiculing your question. "I like you? I love you many. You tired?" he asked, as if to say, "Is the fatigue messing with you?"

You laughed. He smiled. "Not tired!" you explained, then you sat down in front of him. You gestured him closer, so he did as you asked and crawled a couple of inches closer to you.

"You do something for me," you said.

"...?"

"Don't move."

...

"Don't move!!" you laughed, finally putting lipstick on him properly. He was struggling to hold still, the feeling of the lipstick irritating him.

"So cute!" you said, hoping to calm him down with a compliment as you shut the lipstick lid. "Cute! Cute!"

"Strange..." he mumbled, reaching up to wipe it off, but he didn't do it. He couldn't. Not when you said he was cute this way. "I cute...?"

You nodded, beaming brightly, and he couldn't resist it, so he didn't remove the lipstick.

As you rummaged in your little collection, you found a magazine full of ladies with white, majestic, beautiful dresses. Almost like The Bride's, but way more... lively.

No.

Way more alive.

Just how long will it take for you to lose all that feeling?

No—if you long for it, then it must've already been missing.

The home you knew is a place you can never reach again.

That's where your heart is. That's why your chest feels so hollow.

Do you even have a heart anymore?

You pressed a hand against your chest, and you felt a pang of envy for the smiling woman and man on the front page. Technically, you were never alone. You had Mr. Crawling!

That didn't help how you felt, though.

Jealousy.

Longing, nostalgia, and jealousy.

A longing for that human feeling, a nostalgia for your childhood dreams, and jealousy, because you no longer had that within your reach while others do.

You threw the magazine over your shoulder, and you buried your face on your mattress, knees still on the floor, and you tried to get rid of the heaviness on your chest.

You didn't cry.

It just... hurts.

***

It felt like ages—Mr. Crawling came in and out, bringing in various people to try and check on you after his own attempts failed. Mr. Silvair didn't do anything. He didn't know what to do. Mr. Chopped tried to console you with his silly faces—the expressions you showed and taught him with your own face—but to no avail. He even dragged in Mr. Stitch—and he hates that fellow—albeit bloody from Mr. Crawling forcing him to follow, but you didn't look up at all. He shoved Mr. Stitch right back out once he didn't work, though.

He was starting to panic. You never did this before.

He tried to think back to anyone else who you seemed to tolerate the presence of, but... oh!

The pile of pages you threw! That was the last thing that you touched before you shut yourself off!

He picked it up, looking at it with a puzzled coo. He didn't understand it, but he noticed that in most of the pages, there were people like you who were smiling happily together. He wondered why.

Oh! Maybe you wanted a new dress! Is that it?

He glanced at you and tried to show you the book again, but you only inched away. At least he knew now not to do that again....

He quickly left the room and glanced down the halls.

Then with one huff, he recited: "Clothes!"

"Clothes?"

He giggled when he saw The Bride appear.

"You hurt...?" she pointed at his face. Specifically, his mouth.

Mr. Crawling proudly showed it off, smiling. "They put it. They say I cute."

She raised a white dress, trying to offer it to him, but he shook his head.

"They sad," he said. He raised the book. "Clothes."

The Bride, elegant and poised, glanced at the book with her non-existant eyes (and head). "Wonderful! Wonderful, cute!"

"Clothes," he pointed at one of the dresses. He liked this one, specifically, where the dress wasn't as puffy as the others, but not as skinny. There were white clothes for the hands (gloves) and for the legs (stockings), and there was a strange but aesthetically pleasing clump of cloth on the back (a rose made of silk).

"They look cute, this."

"I make!" The Bride nodded eagerly. If she had a head, she'd be smiling the same way the humans in the book were. "I make, I give!"

It didn't take long—she disappeared, and Mr. Crawling waited outside your door for only a moment until she came back with an even prettier version of the dress.

Mr. Crawling, trying to contain his excitement, chirped happily and let The Bride enter your room.

You were still there, curled over your bed, but you were putting the same red thing you put on his.

If he had eyes, they'd be sparkling. He had no idea what you did to yourself, but you looked... even better than you already did. Which is saying something—you were everything to him, and now you have such a pretty shade over your eyes, and your lips were like his!

"You hurt?!" The Bride gasped again.

You let out a strained laugh. Mr. Crawling knew it wasn't a real one. "Not hurt. I... make me cute."

"You cute! Before!" The Bride said. "Cute now, cute before."

"They cute," Mr. Crawling agreed simply. "Give! Give!" he urged the ghost-woman in white.

"Give," she extended the dress to you.

You stared.

And stared.

And you... began to cry.

Mr. Crawling panicked, and so did The Bride. There you were, kneeling next to your bed with tears running down your face. Mr. Crawling immediately took his place beside you, holding your head in his hands as he tried to console you.

"I sorry," he said, but he didn’t know what for. "I sorry, don't sad... I sorry—"

He would've apologised on and on if it weren't for how the black streaks appeared from your eyes.

You looked even prettier to him.

He loved it when you smiled, but he dies a little more than he already did, figuring out that you were so pretty when you cried.

"No, no," you said, wiping the black gunk off your face. "I—I love—" you pointed at the dress. "So—so wonderful, can't—can't.... You...!"

Your shaky hands held his face, and he didn't know what to do.

"You... kind... can't cry not," you continued to sob.

"...you kind," he mumbled in return. He's still confused, though.

***

Did this ho just assume you wanted a new dress??? Because he wasn't entirely wrong. Or maybe that's just you trying to justify it all.

Even if you tried, you can't stop crying. He doesn't comprehend the layers of what you feel yet, but he still tried, and you can't. Stop. Crying.

"You're so sweet," you began to ramble in your own language. You cupped his cheek with your hand and your lower lip trembled. "You're so sweet and nice and you always look after me and I—agh, I can't—I hate how nice you are, it's annoying, I love you so much," you sobbed.

He didn't understand at all. Even you yourself didn't—you're losing your knowledge in your own language and you can't stop crying.

You're sad. You're angry, you're missing what you used to have, you're happy, you—

Your weeping calmed.

You realised something.

A sliver of human shame entered your face, embarrassment for crying, but as well as another thing. You can't quite tell what it is.

Mr. Crawling seemed hopeful, leaning a little closer to make sure you're okay.

You wiped your tears away and stood up, hoping they'd just forget about it.

"Thank you," you said to The Bride. She seemed confused, but so were you, so it's fine. "I appreciate. Clothes, wonderful."

"Thank you," she clasped her hands together as you took the dress away. "You are wonderful. Farewell," she hesitated but left, anyway.

"You ask they make clothes for me?" you asked Mr. Crawling, going behind the curtain that separated the two beds.

He tilted his head. "Yes."

"I appreciate," you said, wiping your face down with the blankets of the other bed.

After a moment of shuffling into the new dress, you suddenly froze.

Were you gonna cry again...?

No, no—you were nervous.

Why?

You glanced over your shoulder to see Mr. Crawling, expectant, and, as before, confused.

You peeked your head out, and he lit up with a smile. "I unsure."

"....?" he frowned a little. "Unsure?"

~~~

"Honey, I'm not sure."

"What? Why?" he laughed. "We did agree to this, right?" he joked. You would've laughed, but right now, your thoughts were too clouded for you to even form a grin.

"Yeah, but..." you bit your tongue, wary.

Your fiance—no, your husband laughed. "Sweetheart, nothing will go wrong. It's just a superstition."

But what if it isn't?

You glanced down at yourself, clad in a shiromuku. You heard one of the guests say they'd "go home" (a superstition in Japan that they say might jinx the marriage). What if something bad happens, now?

Before you could overthink, his hands clasped over yours, his long, black hair only sealing his own black-coloured attire, his effortless ethereality catching you off guard again.

"No matter what happens, I'll be right next to you. It doesn't matter what the guests say," he said, pressing a light kiss on your knuckles.

You felt your cheeks bloom, and your heart only sunk deeper in the well of love you carried for him.

"And as much as you're adorable when you cry...." he then said, so you smacked his arm with a playful laugh. He responded with a giggle of his own and only held you closer.

"Let's head back inside, okay?" he smiled and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead. "Staying in the garden for too long might make the guests assume something."

That earned him another smack, and that made him give you another laugh.

He tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, but there wasn't any. He just wanted to hold your face.

He smiled.

"I love you so much."

********

This is already way too long so I'll just have to make a part 2 SIGH

[diy-dynamite]

☆ AZALEA'S MEZZANINE !!

RE: Masterlists | Requests 💬

Requests for Homicipher are open :3

Headcanons & oneshots ; all characters = OK!

NONO: NSFW (unless paid), mpreg or anything that has to do with the omegaverse 😭😭😭😭 solely bc idk how

!!! I'm good with anything that doesn't validate/cater to p3dophilia, r4pe, et al. !!!

P.S. I don't use any dictionaries for the dialogue, so there's bound to be words that might not exist in their language in the dialogues for my work, and vice versa where there might be words that exist that I don't use, if that makes sense.

Homicipher Masterlist

Carrd in here ^^

I do write for free!! But I just need the extra help rn, I'm trying to help pay for my tuition

[diy-dynamite]

Television Relations

》 2nd part of Television Influence

He sees a familiar face. || Mr. Crawling x GN!Reader

Warnings: spoilers for one of the endings, the reader is an assassin, some mentions of murder

Took inspiration from the members of Homicipher Unofficial (which u should definitely join, btw) (idk if they're ok with shoutouts so I'll just edit it later if they are)

********

SINCE the first day you introduced him to television, you left it on for him every day. It wouldn't do him any harm since he didn't seem to have any eyes, but he could still see bullshit from a mile away.

On one of the days, you checked on him while you tied down your target before he woke up to extract the information your client needed, and all of a sudden, Mr. Crawling blurted out a loud "No!"

You raised your brows in confusion, only to see him smack his hand on the screen lightly. You squinted your eyes, taking a closer look at the screen, and barked out a laugh when you realised he was watching the scene in Titanic where Rose was on a piece of debris salvaged from the ship, while Jack was in the water.

You figured he shouted in frustration. Your laugh awoke your target, though, so you quickly hit him with the blunt of your crowbar on a special part of the head to make him fall asleep again.

That was a normal Sunday for you.

You went back home with another successful mission, jingling your keys and coming home to an expectant Mr. Crawling, happily greeting you once again.

What you didn't expect, however, was that he led you to the living room instead of the kitchen. Normally, he'd take you there to give you a washed, uncut fruit like an apple or grapes, peeking over the table with a smile to see if you liked it. That was his way of trying to feed you since you fed him.

No, that didn't happen. Instead, he took you to the TV and sat you down there.

"Look, look," he pointed at the TV, the language rolling off his ink black tongue. "Friend."

You glanced to the TV and flinched—why the hell were they showing Sadako? That rom-com show was supposed to be on at this time.

"Er, did you switch channels, Mr. Crawling?" You muttered. He didn't respond as you tried to switch off the TV, but it wouldn't work.

"What is?" He pointed at your remote. You pressed at the off button again, but it didn't work. "Uhh, controls thing," you said, pointing at the TV.

"Why?"

"I kill," you heard her say, and you flinched, looking up at the screen, its static getting worse by the second. I never knew they spoke the same language.

Wait.

She's leaving the screen.

You grabbed your crowbar, ready to swing, but Mr. Crawling grabbed your weapon. You yanked it away, the adrenaline causing your hesitance to go away, but you paused once Mr. Crawling leapt to stand—sit—between you and Sadako.

"Friend! Friend!" he chirped, his voice clearly expressing frantic wobbles.

You lowered your weapon.

"Friend," he said again. He turned around and placed his hands on Sadako's head, then shoved her back in.

"No kill," he said. "Me love they."

"You love they?"

"Love they many."

"They love you?"

.

.

.

"Understand. Farewell."

The static behind the TV disappeared, and Sadako only sat in what looked like an empty room or hallway.

You were about to turn off the TV until you saw a tall, white silhouette walk past the screen.

The humanoid man bent down, and your heart nearly exploded at the sight of your old acquaintance, Mr. Silvair.

"Hello!" You exclaimed. The white-haired man smiled. "Hello," he said. "See you again."

He turned his head to Mr. Crawling and waved. "See you again."

Mr. Crawling only stared with his non-existant eyes.

"I bring this one," he pointed at Sadako and pulled her away from the screen.

The TV went black.

"...you're... friends with Sadako."

Mr. Crawling turned around to look at you with a line on his face—the line being his mouth.

You titled your head. "Why upset?"

"They ask. You love me?" He gestured between you and him. He lowered his head, glancing to the side. "You don't say."

You paused before replying, "But I love you. Many."

"But you say to other," he pointed at the black screen. "'Hello'! Fast."

What?

Your confusion was probably obvious since Mr. Crawling continued to explain.

"You don't say when friend ask you love me." His voice only got whinier, and his lips curled downward as he spoke. "You say fast when other came."

"I say hello to friend—" Oh.

He's saying you didn't say anything when Sadako asked if you loved him, and he's also comparing your response with how you spoke to Mr. Silvair.

You paused, and although a knowing smile crept onto your lips, Mr. Crawling's only began to tremble.

That was what made you stop from teasing.

"No, no," you waved your hands at him, dropping the crowbar to kneel in front of him. You took his head in your hands and messed around with his hair, rubbing back and forth. "I love you many! Love you many!"

He perked up, his adorable grin slowly coming back on his face. "Many?"

You nodded. "Many!"

"Kiss," he said.

He even leaned forward, closer to your face.

"Many kiss," he said.

You sighed.

Maybe introducing him to the TV was a bad idea.

********

HOPE U LIKED THIS :3 kinda rushed bc I'm about to sleep again LMAO so mistakes MIGHT be spotted

JOIN HOMICIPHER UNOFFICIAL GUYSSS

[diy-dynamite]

Also just so yk I make c.ai bots on homicipher at @ XTRGIRL. U can request with some prompts for any of the characters in the game if u want me to make one specifically!

[diy-dynamite]

BTW GUYS JOIN US :3 HOMICIPHER (unofficial) SERVER If this link doesn't work lmk teehee

[diy-dynamite]

Television Influence

Homicipher || Mr. Crawling + GN Reader

So... I have no idea how to use Tumblr to write fics But. Consider this my trial before it goes down :3

CONTENTS: (1) mentions & descriptions of murder, (2) kissing

Disclaimer: the part about MC being an assassin is just a hc I came up with. There are spoilers under the cut, though (at least I think I put the cut, idk tho)

So hear me out. Idk if anyone did this yet, but listen: after bringing your sweetheart (Mr. Crawling, obviously) to the real world, things went back to normal. Sort of. You were never really normal to begin with.

********

You went back to your old job, hacking and killing, keeping the bills steady with commissions, yada yada. Corporate worker on weekdays, but at night and on weekends, you're a highly sought out eliminator.

This busy schedule didn't sit right for Mr. Crawling, though. Every time you came back, you noticed that he sat before the door, already waiting for you to twist the knob and push. You installed cameras to try to keep your eyes on what he did, only to find out that if his presence was caught on camera, the film would glitch and blur and static would pepper across your screen. Still, you were able to decipher what he did through the choppy feed.

He stood his ground in front of the door with that small, anticipating grin on his grey face. Your heart ached at the sight, cooing aloud right in front of your victim before you slammed your crowbar into their skull.

That's when you realised you didn't like leaving him for hours on end. You didn't want to make him wait like that.

An idea sparked in your head when you were getting ready for your morning job. Mr. Crawling was still lying on his spot next to yours on your shared bed. You couldn't tell if he was sleeping or spacing out. Did he even need sleep?

You shrugged that thought off and quietly tip-toed your way into your living room. You switched on the TV—which you never used until now—and left the volume at a moderate level before leaving for work.

Truly enough, the sweetheart confusedly crawled over to sit at the front of the screen, watching the rom-com show that just got aired.

You smiled, leaving the monitoring app as you sipped from your favourite morning tea. You checked in on him around every five hours, and he never moved from his spot, not until you were already at your front door, though. The humanoid man seemed to hit a realization and crawled to the front door once again. It's like he already knew when you usually arrived.

He just sat there with that same thin smile on his face, waiting for your return. If he had a tail, it'd be swaying slowly. Patient and hopeful, like a dog.

You pushed the door open, and his chipper laughter rang through the air.

"You home! You home!"

He pushed a chuckle out of your lips, embracing you by the hips as you locked your front door with shaky hands due to his movement.

"Home, home," you nodded, sighing, yet you still smiled. "Hungry? Want eat?"

He giggled again, his smile practically cutting from ear to ear.

You served him his red soup—it wasn't tomatoes, but it was the chunks and blood of your victim last night.

"You enjoy?" You asked, leaning on your palm as you watched him eat. "Thing," you pointed at the TV in the nearby room. "Thing fun?"

Mr. Crawling wiped the leftover soup from his lips, pitch black tongue licking over where the blood was on his hand.

"Thing fun," he agreed. "You more fun. Many more."

You laughed. Thank goodness for all the language lessons you took on his dialect because these little gems that left his cold lips would've flown last your head.

Suddenly, Mr. Crawling paused.

"Want... try something."

"Try?" You tilted your head in confusion, and he mirrored your expression as you uttered a word in English. "More eat? Eat another?"

He giggled. "No!"

Your brows knitted together, and your lips pursed as you pondered. "Try what?"

Mr. Crawling crawled around the chabudai table, already hovering over your lap. His lips formed that same loveable (and slightly uncanny) smile. "You, me..." he gestured between you two with one hand. You nodded along, hoping to understand. "Me, you," you said.

He gestured again. "Not the same. Me, you, different. I saw other—other like you," he pointed at the TV. "Saw many like you. They say love, but they not show. Why?"

"...?" You had to process that for a second. Lengthy sentences in his language were harder to decode. "Er... um," you sighed. "They not ready? Love big, but they know small."

He watched you expectantly, so you continued.

"Uh... love big. Yes. Many meaning. Few word, few say."

"You love me?"

This was a question you got daily. It didn't hurt to answer repetively, but now that you thought of it....

Your hesitation made Mr. Crawling shrink back, his smile slowly turning into pouting.

"No no," you quickly added. "Me love you. You kind. You rescue."

He perked up, his joy bouncing right back. "Me love you!" He chirped.

You sighed, but your breath of relief didn't last long. He took you by the chin, his cold and calloused hands as gentle as he always was, and he poked his lips against yours in a brief kiss.

.

.

.

"You cute," he giggled, and you realised your face went red. "Cute, cute."

"Where did you learn to do that?" You blurted out, confusion and fluttering shyness grasping your stomach like a ruthless vine. "I mean—" you snapped out of it, seeing his confusion. "—how... how you know... do that?"

He pointed at the TV again. "Saw many like you. Say they love they, then they do!"

.

.

.

He saw people kiss?

"You—"

He kissed you again. Did it even count as a kiss? It was more like tapping lips together than a kiss.

"Cute!" He chirped and kissed you again. It didn't take much for you to know that he was pleased with your reddened cheeks and wanted to see it over and over. You counted twenty times before you stopped him, which made him frown.

"I teach," you sighed, your shyness wearing off. He practically bounced at your words. "I teach you how. My language, I call 'kiss'."

He tilted his head.

You said it again. "Kiss."

"....Ck...ck..."

"Kiss." You nodded.

"Ki...iss?"

You patted his head in approval. "Kiss."

He giggled. "Kiss! Kiss! Me kiss you!"

You couldn't help but laugh. "I teach you how. Don't move."

He didn't.

When you leaned in for a kiss, he stiffened, but he didn't move away. You held his hands and brought them to your waist, and then you held the sides of his head, pressing on.

You didn't take it too far, no—he wasn't really ready for English yet, let alone French if you know what I mean.

"....Me kiss you," you said.

It was almost as if steam was blowing out of his ears. The place around his cheeks darkened into a deeper grey, and you laughed. Before you could comment, however, he pounced at the chance to kiss you again before you changed your mind.

********

Erm so this was kinda ass LMAO

It's just practice anyway 😞 didn't proofread either so I guess that'll be my bad when I wake up tomorrow to see a bajillion of mistakes

[diy-dynamite]

"Don't understand" I'LL HELP U OUT?? HELLO??

BITCH, COME BACK, I SAID I LIKE YOU @ Mr. Hood

[diy-dynamite]

This made me vibrate in elation tbh

I saw something at spirit Halloween tonight