#Mr.Scarletella

[pla-v-illgame]

【文字化化】赤い傘の男 / fanart

赤い傘の男

強引ぐまいうぇいなツギハギ男くん。 連れてかれる主人公ちゃんを目撃した赤い傘の男さん。 …まだ続く…？

Mr.Scarletella

Going My Way, Mr.Stitch! Mr.scaretellea witnesses heroine being taken away. …Also Continued…?

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[nana-mania]

"GLITCHED DESIRE" he will always chase after you.

╰┈➤: ̗̀➛ oneshot

࿐*ೃ feat : mr. scarletella

࿐*ೃ fandom : homicipher

࿐*ೃ extra : fem! reader, fluff

╰┈➤: ̗̀➛ Flickering lights buzzed above you as you made your way through the dilapidated corridors of the building. You'd long since stopped hoping to find an easy way out—this was a mysterious building, and escape was rarely straightforward. Still, you refused to give up. Each door, each hallway, could hold a glimmer of hope. Or a trap.

Your steps echoed faintly, swallowed by the oppressive silence that surrounded you. You were focused on the cracked map in your hand, one you had drawn yourself, trying to decipher its faded markings when that familiar, unnerving sensation crept up your spine.

Someone was watching you. Someone was following you.

You turned quickly, scanning the barely lit hallway behind you. Nothing. No sign of movement, no shift in the shadows. But you felt it. You always felt it before he appeared.

With a sharp exhale, you turned back to your map, trying to focus on the task at hand. But when you did, he was there—Mr. Scarletella, mere inches from your face. His presence distorted reality, the air around him rippling like a corrupted video file. His eyes, void-like and unblinking, bore into yours, and the world felt like it had stopped.

You flinched instinctively, a shiver running down your spine. “Really? Again?” you muttered, more exasperated than afraid. You had gotten used to his tricks, his sudden appearances meant to jolt you into fear. By now, it was more annoying than terrifying.

Mr. Scarletella tilted his head, a slight smirk curling his lips. “What, you do?” he asked, his voice dripping with curiosity.

You didn’t even bother looking up as you replied casually, “Way out.” Your tone was deliberately flat, your attention divided between the map and the faint sound of a creaking door somewhere far off.

He didn’t seem deterred by your lack of interest. If anything, it only seemed to amuse him. “So focused,” he murmured, his voice almost a purr. “So serious. Why, escape?”

You ignored him, taking a step forward to investigate the faint sound. But as soon as you moved, he glitched again. One moment, he was behind you; the next, he was directly in front of you, blocking your path. His smirk widened, and his eyes sparkled with mischief—or something far darker.

“Excuse me,” you said, attempting to sidestep him.

He mirrored your movement effortlessly, leaning in just enough to invade your space. “Don't be cold.” His voice dropped to a near whisper.

You rolled your eyes, refusing to give him the reaction he wanted. “You’re wasting your time.”

“I, am?” His tone shifted, playful yet persistent. “You, waste time. Not me, darling.”

The sudden endearment made you falter for a split second, your focus breaking. Where did he learn that?

He noticed. Of course, he noticed. His grin grew sharper, and he leaned closer.

“Surprise?” he teased, his voice a velvet caress. “Don't run. Stay here, with me.”

You forced yourself to look away, your heart pounding—not from fear, but from something you couldn’t quite place. Annoyance? Frustration? No. It was something more dangerous. You didn’t want to acknowledge it, so you kept walking, determined to shake him off.

But, as always, he followed. Like a shadow, like a curse, he trailed behind you, his steps unnervingly quiet. His demeanor shifted as he walked, from predatory to almost... eager. Like a puppy following its owner.

“You,” he started again, “Me, can help. But, I don't. Why?”

“Because you’re bored.”

He chuckled, a low, melodic sound that made your skin prickle. “Wrong. Me, you, interested, (Y/n)."

You sighed, stopping at a locked door and fiddling with its rusted handle. “If I’m so interesting, why don’t you do something useful for once? Open this door.”

“Hmm...” He tilted his head, pretending to consider it. “What, in return?”

“Peace and quiet,” you shot back.

He laughed again, a genuine sound that caught you off guard. It was rare to hear anything from him that wasn’t dripping with menace or mockery. “Funny,” he said. "Me, like you.”

Ignoring him, you moved to another door, only to find it locked as well. He leaned against the wall beside you, watching your every move with unnerving intensity. You could feel his gaze burning into you, even when you refused to meet it.

“You enjoy, right?” he said after a moment, his voice soft, almost contemplative, “Our, little game. Me, chase you.”

You turned to glare at him, finally snapping. “Enjoy? You delusional. You’re the reason I’m stuck here in the first place!”

He shrugged, unbothered by your outburst. “Maybe. Me like you, a lot. Want you, stay here.”

Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you in an instant, his face mere inches from yours. His smile was gone, replaced by something darker. “Tell me,” he said, his voice a low murmur, “You can escape..will you, leave? Will you, miss me?”

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding against your ribcage. You wanted to snap at him, to push him away, to deny whatever game he was playing. But his eyes, those endless voids, held you captive.

“I—” The words caught in your throat, and you turned sharply, forcing yourself to walk away. Your footsteps echoed louder this time, as if trying to drown out the sound of your racing heart.

He didn’t follow immediately, but you could feel his presence lingering, his gaze heavy on your back. And then, just as you reached the end of the hallway, his voice called out to you, soft but insistent.

“Run, darling,” he said. “You come back. Always do.”

You didn’t look back. You couldn’t. But his words stayed with you, echoing in your mind long after his presence had faded.

࿐*ೃ thanks for reading this scenario! likes, interaction and reblogs are deeply appreciated ♡

[fundashnee-rott]

Giggling my ass off at the idea that mr.scarletella take you on an ice skating date but doesn't know how to ice skate and it's just this 8ft mf and his 5ft long legs just being a cartoon trying not to eat shit on the ice but also trying to be seductive. Endless entertaining thought to me.

[stephin-horni-zone]

Nsfw headcanons [Homicipher, grabbag]

Characters included: Mr.scarletella, Mr.crawling, mr.slivair, mr.gap, mr. Machete.

Headcanons count: 4.5

1. Mr.scarletella and mr.crawling both do pup play but mr.crawling based his dogsona a companion/herding dog so I think he'd love to do the more playful things dogs do. Where mr.scarletella would be more into the role play I can see someone putting on one of those yard leach things on him and he just run back and forth barking at strangers who he could see through the fence.

2. Mr.scarlella would be a whiney bottom, like I can see him throwing a tantrum that you didn't wreck him hard enough or that you finish inside him.

3.Mr.Slivair and Mr.machete tag teaming me would fix me.

4. Mr. Gap has an adjustable dick (something about filling in a gap)

5. Mr. Scarletella could probably use his body as bandage rope but doesn't because he wants to be the one tied up.

[jackle-fundashii]

It's a good thing that mr.scarletella isn't real. That man would have me acting like a grandma. Like he be over there like "I want your name." And I'm 100% gonna hit him back with "Well if you eat your greens."

[artsqaudlol]

Ok ive made my beginners chart of so far fav characters in homicipher game.

I don't vibe with scarletella...simply no.

Silvair...I dont hate him but he gave me a horrible feeling at the beginning before I could translate him of "this hoe gonn' kill you!"

Mr.Gap...neutral cause ive had 2 half decent endings with him involved being helpful...he's good and bad depending on situation and how willing you are to sacrifice your limbs.

Mr.Chopped: he's so good! But he gets lost easy and kept getting stuck in dumb sitations...tho not a bad critter just sitationally challenged.

The bride, is queen energy! I love her she's so good, I wish she had more interactions cause she's lovely! ♥️♥️♥️

Mr.Crawling...my husband and I love him! The first time I accidentally thought I killed him I restarted entirely until I found out he doesn't die he just hides away.♥️♥️♥️

[satori-runa]

—The red means I love you.

Summary: Mr Scarletella doesn't like to wait anymore and makes his move.

Tags: Mentions of blood, yandere behaviour, obsession, slight stalking, fluff, slightly ooc

Words: 1,6k

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Blood dripped from your fingers, soaked into your clothes, and splattered across the floor in your wake. It didn’t matter if it was yours or someone else’s anymore. All that mattered was surviving in this weird place.

You paused to catch your breath, the cold air burning your lungs as another wave of dizziness hit you. Somewhere in the distance, you heard it—the soft, shuffling footsteps that never seemed far behind. He was still following you. He had been for a while now, his presence a constant shadow.

Mr. Scarletella.

He rarely spoke, but you could feel his pitch black eyes on you, his gaze almost tangible as it traced the lines of blood staining your clothes. The quiet creaking of leather shoes echoed through the hallway, growing louder. You turned, the crowbar raised defensively, and there he was—standing just a few feet away, partially hidden by the dim lighting.

He was a spectacle in crimson, the vibrant red of his suit blending almost seamlessly with the blood that covered the ground and the red light on the walls. His head was tilted slightly, a mess of scarlet hair falling over one eye as he stared at you. His smile was small, twitching at the corners, as if he were struggling to hold it back. And then there was this scarlet umbrella he was holding…

"You," he mumbled in his own language, his voice barely above a whisper. He took a small step closer, the leather of his shoes slick against the wet floor. His eyes were wide, pupils blown out in a way that made him look unhinged. He raised one gloved hand, fingers twitching, as if he wanted to reach out and touch you but was restraining himself.

You took a step back, crowbar still raised. "Stay back," you ordered, though it sounded more like a plea than a command. You weren’t even sure if he could follow your demands.

His head tilted further, almost like a curious dog. "Like," he muttered, the word shaky and filled with awe. His gaze fixated on the blood staining your shirt. "Like... you."

It was a childlike declaration, simple and obsessive, as if he couldn’t fully articulate the depth of his emotions in the language he spoke. He took another step forward, and this time, you noticed the way his hands shook, almost vibrating with excitement.

He pointed to the blood on your clothes, then back to himself, his smile widening. "Like... same," he murmured. He gestured between the two of you, as if connecting invisible threads. The blood. It was all the same to him. You were the same. You were his. You did this for him. You were like that for him.

You swallowed hard, backing away. "You need to stop following me," you said, but even you could hear how empty the words sounded. He wouldn’t stop. You knew that. You could see it in his eyes—the absolute devotion, the unblinking adoration.

His smile faltered for a second, his brows knitting together in confusion, almost like he didn’t understand why you were upset. "You," he stammered, taking another step. He was so close now, you could smell the coppery tang of blood that clung to him like perfume. "With... me."

He reached out slowly, fingers splayed wide, as if he were afraid you might shatter if he touched you. The moment his hand brushed against your cheek, it was cold and wet with blood. “Me like you.” He sighed, the sound almost blissful, like he’d been waiting his whole life just to be this close. “You like me?”

You flinched away, slashing out with your crowbar, but he was faster. His appearance glitched and before you knew it, he teleported. He caught your wrist in a tight, almost bruising grip, his expression twisting into something unreadable. His smile had disappeared, replaced by a wide-eyed, manic look that sent a shiver down your spine.

"No," he muttered, his voice barely audible, like he was scolding a child. He pulled you closer, his grip unrelenting. "Mine. Like you. Same."

It was almost pathetic, the way he whispered it, like he was pleading with you to understand. He pressed his forehead against yours, his breath shaky and uneven. The blood from his gloves smeared across your skin as he cupped your face, his touch almost reverent.

"Stay," he breathed, the word cracking at the edges. "With... me."

For a moment, you thought you saw tears welling up in his eyes, but then he blinked, and they were gone, replaced by that disturbing, gleeful smile. He didn’t need your answer; he’d already decided it for you.

You tried to pull away, but he only held you tighter, his fingers digging into your skin. His smile stretched wider, as if he were thrilled by the struggle.

"Like... you," he whispered again, almost lovingly, his voice broken and raw. "Together."

You realized then that there was no escape. Not from him. Not from the Otherworld. And as his laughter echoed down the hall, low and guttural, you knew he’d already decided your fate long before you’d even realized he was watching.

“Me grateful for you. Me like you. Me want you.”

You kept your crowbar close, tucked against your side, but you knew it was useless. You’d tried to fight him before, slashing at his chest, hitting at his arm, but it never seemed to faze him. If anything, it only made him more excited, more desperate to keep you close. His suit was stained with both your blood and someone elses, merging into a deep red that matched the look of obsession in his eyes.

His pace slowed as he pulled you into an empty room, the door creaking shut behind you. The walls were stained with splatters of old blood, the floor sticky beneath your shoes. He stopped, turning to face you fully, his hands coming up to frame your face as he dropped the umbrella for a moment. You could feel the wetness of his stained fingers against your cheeks, the metallic smell of blood overwhelming your senses.

You tried to pull away, but he only leaned in closer, his nose almost brushing yours. "Pretty," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "You... pretty. Blood." His thumb traced a line down your cheek, smearing blood across your skin. He seemed mesmerized by the sight, as if he couldn’t look away.

"Mr. Scarletella, please," you managed, your voice trembling. "Let me go."

He frowned, the expression so out of place on his usually smiling face. His grip tightened slightly, almost as if he were afraid you’d vanish if he loosened his hold. "No," he whispered, shaking his head. "No... like you."

He brought your face even closer, his breath warm against your lips. You could see every detail of his face now—the tiny splatters of blood on his skin, the way his pupils were blown wide with an intensity that bordered on madness. He wasn’t blinking, wasn’t even moving, just staring at you like you were the only thing that existed in his world.

You tried to turn your head, but his fingers dug into your jaw, forcing you to face him. It was almost gentle, the way he held you, but there was an undercurrent of possessiveness that sent a shiver down your spine. He tilted his head, his smile returning, small and soft, as if he were looking at something precious.

You’d been trying so hard to avoid his gaze that you didn’t notice how close he’d leaned in until it was too late. You moved suddenly, trying to wrench yourself out of his grip, but the motion was too quick, too abrupt. Your lips collided with his, and you froze.

It was just a brief, accidental kiss—barely a brush of lips—but it felt like time stopped. His entire body went still, his eyes widening in shock. For a second, you thought he might pull away, let you go, but then his hands tightened around your face, fingers trembling.

"Y-You," he breathed out, his voice cracking with something raw and vulnerable. "Kiss... you kissed."

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way your heart was pounding in your chest. "It was an accident," you insisted, your voice hoarse. "I didn’t mean to—"

But he wasn’t listening. He was staring at you, his expression one of pure, unfiltered adoration. His lips parted slightly, his breath shaky, as if he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. He let out a soft, broken laugh, the sound almost joyous, as if he’d just received the greatest gift in the world.

"Like me," he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. His voice was so quiet, so full of desperate hope. "You... like me."

He didn’t give you a chance to respond. He leaned in again, his lips hovering over yours, his breath mingling with yours. It wasn’t a kiss—not really. It was like he was waiting for permission, waiting for you to do something, anything, to confirm that this wasn’t just in his head.

You could feel his heartbeat racing against your own, the warmth of his body despite the cold, damp blood soaking his clothes. You knew then that he wouldn’t let you go—not now, not ever. In his mind, that accidental kiss had sealed your fate. You were his now, just as he was yours.

And as he pulled you into a tight embrace, humming softly under his breath, you realized you had no choice but to let him hold you, his face buried against your neck, whispering broken, loving words that would haunt you forever.

The minute he let go of you, you took the umbrella he dropped into your hand, glancing at the scarlet color before Mr.Scarletellas hand touched yours. A promise to keep you by his side.

[sheilder]

You_what_name?☔️☔️☔️

[milkmily]

Can I have a request for Mr scarletella with female reader is on top of him? (Smut) 👀

Inspired of this:

https://x.com/phoenix_0524/status/1858542195609043209

All yours

ᝰ.ᐟ❣️⋆˙──────────────────────────

Mr.Scarletella x Fem reader

SMUT oh my lord 🫣 and yes you may hehehehehe imma make him in that route where he forgets everything. But he's pretending 😏 just so he can be with Reader. Honestly i feel like he faked to forget everything because that was really ig the only way to get with MC like come ONNNN I need someone to write a fanfic about ITTTT

Mr. Scarletella. All under your control.

Isn't that just amazing?

He was so obsessed with you, madly in love with you, chased you everywhere and for what? For your name. Just so he can have your soul and have you under his control.

And now, it's different. He had forgotten everything, himself, his name, even you. His purpose is now long forgotten. And you gave him one. To be yours and to listen to everything you tell him to do like as if he was your own pet. You had him like a puppy with a leash around his beautiful neck. He was under your control.

And here he is, whining and Whimpering as he humps the bed while he eats your pussy. “So good…ah fuck!” You moan and push his face further on to your pussy lips. Mr Scarletella held on to your thighs tightly as he sucked on your clit. You moan and arch your back. He opens his eyes and looks at your face as you moan and whine. He sunk his nails into your skin as he ate your pretty cunt. He whines as he feels a tug at his hair. “Don't do that.” You say in such a cold tone that it makes him shiver and he loses his grip a bit. He nods and kisses your pussy lips. “I sorry.” He spoke.

You smiled and pulled his face Away. “Hmm, you were so good to me today.” You spoke and tilt your head. “Maybe you deserve a reward.” You spoke. He didn't understand half Of what you said except for good and reward. He knew he'd be getting what he has been wanting because he's been good to you. Loyal to you. Like always and will always be.

He lays down on the bed as you gently pull down his pants. His cock jumped out, already wet from his own precum from when he humped the bed. You still had your white coat on. You had planned to go out and murder but it seems There were other plans. You get on top of him and sit down on his cock, his cock in between your wet folds. He shivers and looks at you. He softly gasps as he feels your hips move back and forth on his cock. He needs to be inside of you so good. He's been good all day. Why can't he be inside of you? It's driving him absolutely crazy.

“Not yeeet~” you sang as your wet juices coat his hard cock. You giggled as his hands tried to grip on anything. He knew he couldn't grip on your hips And rock you back and forth. That would just ruin the reward he was going to Get. He has to be good to you. But his poor cock is begging to be wrapped with your wet cunt. He starts to move his hips with yours as he gasps and groans. You put more pressure on your hips to lower his own to prevent them from moving. You shake your head as you whimper And giggle.

After some rubbing And teasing, you stood up and grabbed his cock, seeing how wet you got him, your juices mixed with his precum. Finally, oh! Finally, he can be inside of you and feel your warm and wet walls suck him in. You positioned his cock at your aching pussy and sank in it. He jolted up, goosebumps all over his body as he let out a whine. You whimper as you feel him stretch you out and sit down fully on it.

You gasp and start to move your hips back and forth slowly. He holds on to the bed sheets as you ride his cock. You moan and move your hips faster. His cock just felt so good. He whines and throws his head back as you move faster and faster. You move your face closer to him to Look at him. “You feel so good…ah oh my-” you moan. Your chest pressing against his as you move your ass up and down. He groans and looks at you with a grin on your face. You moan and bring him in for a kiss. He whimpered and slipped his tongue in your mouth. Saliva drooling to the corner of his mouth as he kissed you.

You pull away, a string of saliva connecting you two as you moan. He held on to your hips as he looked at you. You look so beautiful right now. So gorgeous. You felt so good and you made him feel good too. He wants you forever, he wants this feeling forever and ever. With you and only. You were starting to get tired from all the moving so he lips his hips up and moved them up and down, your eyes went wide as his cock was brushing just where you wanted it to. You moan louder at every thrust. He looked up at you and brought one of your Nipples into his mouth as he sucked on it, his eyes closed. He lets out a muffled whine as his Hips thrusts become more harsher and faster.

You cup the breast he was sucking and pull it away, earning a whine from him. You moaned and brought the wet and hard nipple back into his sweet warm mouth. He knew you were close by how your pussy was starting to squeeze him, the way your moans turned louder and louder at each thrust. He waa close to himself Too. He groaned as he felt you put more weight on his hips, causing him to stop. He pulled away from your tit and looked at you. But you had your eyes closed as you rode his cock, your mouth opened as you let out those sweet, sweet sounds. “Oh, ah- I'm close I'm-” you scream as you bite your lip and moan. You keep riding him faster until you cum on his cock, covering His cock with your juices. He grabbed your his and moved them for you, cuming inside of you right after. He groaned and jolted his hips up as he filled your pussy up with his warm cum. You two were breathless and tried to catch your breath as you stayed there for a couple of seconds. You whine and stand up from his cock, his cum and yours dripping out of your pussy down to his lower stomach. You grabbed some tissues the best you could and cleaned yourself and him.

You lay down on the bed as you pant and try to catch your breath. You needed to stand up though. Get ready to go out. You needed blood. But you felt so exhausted, your legs sore. You felt Mr Scarletella's hand on your hips and his lips on your ear behind you. “Want your name.” He whispers. You quickly turn around and see the grin on his face.

Oh.

He never forgot.

He simply pretended to.

But you liked that and grinned.

“I'm not giving it to you.” You say as you grab his face with one hand, a tight hold on it that had him grinning more. “You're all mine. You said so.”

“You, mine.” You spoke in his language that caused him to shiver. “Me like you.” he said. “Me like you.” You say back.

Guys I'm sorry it's taking me a while to post 😔 i shall try to catch up. Love you all hehehehe❤️

[theaveragepsychoticbitch]

Cutting Tools

AFAB!Reader x Mr. Crawling/Mr. Chopped/Mr. Hood/Mr. Gap/Mr.Scarletella || NSFW || Scissoring, masturbation, some crack elements, pussy eating (receiving), a wee bit of plot in some of these, and obviously, AFAB characters ||

A/N: Watched playthroughs by Hello Yinny on YT! Check her out! Based off the poll!

Mr. Crawling isn't sure there's a word in either of your languages to describe how he feels when you present him with a pair of baby pink panties, a cute little bow adorning the front of them. And when you remove your clothes, revealing your matching pair, he knows for sure there isn't.

Sitting cunt-to-cunt, you on top, with his knees pressed to his shoulders and his large hands desperately grabbing at your calves and thighs, you figured you'd be just fine dying here and now.

You can feel his hole flexing through his panties, clenching and unclenching erratically. You haven't even started moving yet, and already his arousal soaked through the pink fabric, making it cling to his cunt. The very sight was lewd, even more so as you pressed into him, watching the outline of his lips squish as they kissed yours.

Long nails scratch your skin as you rock back and forth, slowly at first, studying Mr. Crawling for every little reaction he had. The bob of his adam's apple in his throat, the twitch of every muscle you could see as pleasure shot threw him, the way his back begins to bow, even restrained as he was. He was crying, wailing, pleading your name till it was mere babble even in his own language.

Taking a deep breath, you resist the urge to chuckle. He was about to cum– you could feel it in the way his hole fluttered –and you.... You haven't even sped up yet.

Mr. Chopped.... Doesn't have a body. But he does have enthusiasm, and what's sex without excitement?

You can't decide if he looks better with the underwear on his head, or over his face.

But, you suppose it doesn't matter now. Either way, he has a crystal clear view of your lithe fingers rubbing slow circles around your clit, a heart-shaped stain blooming in the orange fabric.

"Cute!"

His smile is so wide and genuine when he says it that you let it go. You're not sure if you would have accepted that description from anyone else.

Throwing your head back and spreading your legs wide, you slide realllll close, close enough that the print of your pussy through the panties is so clear, you might as well take them off. So close that had your finger not been busy abusing it, your clit would be touching the tip of his nose.

He can smell you, and it's making his mouth water. Your skin as sweat begins to drip from it, the intoxicating aroma of your arousal, so close yet so far. He wants to taste you, and you can see it in the wide-eyed stare he gives you as your hand slips past the lacey band and spreads your lips, slivers of each just barely peeking out the sides. Free of obstruction, arousal pours till it pools on the sheets below.

Want. One word he didn't have to teach you. When he said it, it was as clear as if he'd said in your own language.

"Want! Taste!"

His whining got louder and louder, tears beading as you scooted just out of reach right as he stuck his tongue out.

Aww, he's so desperate. It's mean to tease him like this. Hey– if you put the panties over his face, would that still count as scissoring?

Once again, it doesn't matter, because you're already stuffing his mouth full of your cunt, with the panties still on. And naturally, he's already slurping it like a man starved. His eyes are wide and excited, his tongue curious and rough. Orange irises dash between your face and your cunt, and you can feel him trying to speak as you grind along his tongue. He manages to push your panties to the side, his tongue bullying its way into your hole. He's eager, and you're close, and soon, your fluids are gushing down what's left of his throat, across his face, and wetting the matching lace panties you fit across his skull.

Later that day, you find he won't let you take them off. When he asks, "Me cute?" You can't bare to tell him no.

Mr. Hood... Also doesn't have a physical form. But you've scissored with less. Brought matching panties for less, too.

Wearing nothing but creamy brown lace panties, you figure this might be your most accurate twin yet. You almost couldn't take him seriously with that little brown bow attached to his hood. But you had to match somehow!

When you sat on top of him, cloak still on, an idea crossed you. Peeling the cloak back does nothing; but reaching in, you feel something. Trailing lower and lower, eventually, you find something. Something that could make Mr. Hood shiver and shake and gasp and moan.

To keep the cloak on and his form tangible, you had to let him get on top. He towered over you, flowing robes hiding much of your own form. But when your cores touch, it's worth it. When he rests on you, fully seated in proper scissor positioning, you're surprised to find how heavy he is. His lips kiss yours hard through the panties, the slightest of movements hitting your clit head-on.

Caring as ever, he checks on you when he sees you flinch.

"No... Good. More."

"Hurt?"

"Good?" His voice is surprisingly breathy, and you realize he's panting. His hips give a seemingly experimental roll, and you moan loudly.

"Yes, good! More!"

"More." He sighs it almost contentedly, his pace getting slower, his thrusts harder. It's mind blowing, and you soon find that you're the one left whining.

He's not silent either though; gasps are starting to escape, and in your attempts to meet his thrusts you find what must be his clit. His back bows, a noise rising from deep in his chest to fill the air between you as he grips the bedframe. You work hard to hit that same spot over and over again.

He's talking, but you can't hear past the pleasure. He feels so good, and he's so wet, and the lewd sounds coming from where you meet seem to make you more sensitive. It's somehow hotter when you can't see what's happening. Only feel it, left to imagine how his hole must look as it leaks and drools, his face as you fuck him back.

Then, he hits your clit hard. You scream as you cum, chants of "Yes, more" swimming at the edge of your consciousness as your vision goes white. For a few moments, you're floating. And when he cums on you, borderline babbling,

"Good. Yes. More. More. More," ...

You ascend.

Mr. Gap was a hard guy to catch, and even harder to put panties on. Like, what color would you even get them in? Broken vent grey? Hole in the wall white? Super scary shadow black? But he had a body. A hole, even. And you had a goal.

Deep in the darkness of what you would assume was a gap, you and Mr. Gap fight for dominance. Unfortunately, it's not nearly as hot as it sounds.

"Put these on!"

"Give heart."

It wasn't even a question! He has the audacity to tell you, like he has ANY authority here!

"Rrghhh-" you grit your teeth, groaning as you hold up the matching pair of black panties, line with white lace and adorned with a cute little black bow. At the center of it? An even littler white heart. Far too cute for this ungrateful ass.

Searching for the words, you attempt to communicate your frustration—

And then, it hits you. Kind of.

"...Me give... Me?"

His single visible eye blinks, confusion and interest blossoming in his gaze.

"Come here."

He does, and finally, you feel him. Freezing skin, a thin body, and... A warm cunt. It's a hassle to explain how you wrestled those panties onto him, but... There's emphasis on "wrestled."

At last, you have his legs locked tight around you. One over your shoulder, the other wrapped securely around your waist. You could hear how quickly he was breathing as if he were right next to you, feel every shudder of anticipation as if they were yours. You're beginning to think that this "gap" isn't just a space he resides in, but in some form, it is him. A part of him, at least. And it was feeling everything you did to him just as much if not more.

You roll your hips, and it seems as if the whole space pulsed. God, he's sensitive; that one thrust made his back arch, broken nails clawing down the skin of your thighs hard enough to draw blood. He didn't moan, but his sharp intake of breath told you plenty. You couldn't see what you were doing, but it seems like you should keep doing it.

Once more, and you feel as if you're inside him, being clenched and gripped as though he'd never let you leave again. He cries out this time, and it's your name that leaves his lips. It's not often that you hear anyone say it, let alone him, and it catches you by surprise

"[Name]..... Give... Heart?"

'Old habits die hard,' you guess. You sigh, grinding backwards reallllllllll slow, drawing out a long moan from the spirit beneath you..... And then starting straight into the most brutal pace you can manage.

The reaction is immediate; his back arches high and hard, and you're leaning over him to hold him by it. His cries become screams, pleasure tearing his vocal cords to shreds as you mercilessly fuck him. The friction of the panties, the knowledge that they matched, and the complete loss of sight left you in a similar state. It was too much, you were too sensitive, he felt too good, he needed you too badly. You didn't mind when he clawed at your back to ground himself. It'd turn you on again later, seeing the blood on his fingers, the scars on your back.

Both of your legs begin to tremble, the pulse of the space numbing your brain to all but the feel of his pussy against your own. It was electrifying, to the point you didn't realize you'd cum till your limbs failed to hold you up any longer. Mr. Gap was in even worse shape; he'd cum a long time ago. Overstimulation had fried his brain, his eye glazed over and unfocused.

You can't even find it in you to be mad when, however long later it was, he whispers, "You.... Not give you."

How'd you say it again in his language?

"You lose."

Mr. Scarletella was more than eager to dress up for you. Any chance to see you was a blessing upon his evil soul, and every chance to please you was an opportunity to make sure you never need, or want, anyone else, ever again.

Mr. Scarletella didn't just have on red underwear. He was wearing a full lingerie set.

Caging you onto the bed with his massive form, his nose brushed yours with every heavy exhale he released. Blood red eyes more haunted than the very building you inhabited stared at you, hungry for something you were oh-so ready to give him.

Your gaze carried a similar hunger. It made him love you that much more.

Your hands hold his face far too tenderly, a sort of daze coming over you. All you wanted was to touch and feel and taste and have and keep and- was this you thinking, or him?

Your hands run over red lace, silk straps snapping against his skin as you pulled them. You only let one hand continue far enough to cup his cunt; it emitted warmth enough to burn you up, and bless if it didn't excite you.

"Change."

He listens, eager to please. Now he lay flat on the bed, you between his thighs. Your eyes sat heavy on his core, watching arousal gradually soak through until when you touch it, a thin string connects you even when you pull your hand away.

Red panties, red lace, red bow. You kiss him, in more ways than one. First, mouth to mouth; it's a stretch, but it's worth it to feel his intensity all poured into a single touch. Then, cunt to cunt; you cage his thighs beneath your own, savoring the sigh of relief you both give when your pussies meet. The touch is soft, the intensity high. You want no more than to fuck him like this, until peak after peak rolls by, until you can't move, until Mr. Scarletella can't speak, until he tells you his name.

And so, you do. There was never going to be a slow start with him. He's all fire and passion and pumping blood and beating hearts, and merely being around him leaves you infected with the need to do and touch and please and have and-

"Love..."

His voice is a shadow of its former self. A breathless husk, just barely caught and kept long enough to say one word.

"Love... Me?"

"Yes."

"Together... Long?"

"Of course."

"You...." His voice cracks, then breaks, the shards of his sentence lost within the echoing cries that rip from his throat as he cums.

You can feel his clit twitching against yours. Your own tears begin to pour, your own orgasm crashing into you, yet your hips don't so much as stutter. It's as though they were possessed by a separate entity, one that intended to bleed you both dry.

Hours continue like this, and his ability to speak is lost completely. At some point, your body fails you too, your ability to move now gone. Peak after peak have gone by, but...

In the silence of the room, hours, days, years later, he finally mumbles something.

"Hm?"

"Me..."

You don't even have the strength to open your eyes, but you imagine yourself quirking your eyebrow while tilting your head in confusion.

"Name...."

Wait...?

"Me... Give."

You don't have time to react. Before you realize, he's saying it, and your life has changed forever.

------------

A/N: believe it or not, Mr. Gap is my favorite. But Mr. Scarletella is special to me. I don't even LIKE yanderes! Mr. Silvitair not included cause I don't really like him as much lol :P

[pla-v-illgame]

【文字化化】 🎅MerryChristmas🎄 / fanart

【文字化化】 MerryChristmas🎄

主人公ちゃんサンタがみんなにプレゼントをお届けです。

HEROINE Santa Claus delivers presents to everyone.

[valeriascoat]

Mr.Scarletella x Reader

Ummm ehhhehe... Red guy, hawwooo.... Sorry for cringe 🙏

Your palm feels incredibly warm and alive compared to his own. A steady grip of your fingers, a focused face and a noticeable satisfaction with what you are doing – painting his nails.

Scarletella didn't quite understand why you were doing this, but just your attention to him was already an incredible wonderful, making the ghost's chest shrink into almost forgotten feelings. He didn't dare even move, for fear of spoiling something or knocking you off with even brush strokes. He just stared, as if fascinated, his eyes wide open.

And you, in turn, feel a hint of something adequate in this strange world. The simple act of painting your nails was surprisingly relaxing and allowed you to forget for a while about your frequent headaches and the oppressive atmosphere of ambiguity.

_

The "ghost in the red coat" became your "victim" on his own, as soon as he appeared in the hallway after you left the room with (strange words on walls) a makeup bag. You will not experience the fear of him that you had the first time you two met. Now, you meet him only with silence and a desire to get rid of his presence as soon as possible; he bowed his head owlishly in front of you and pointed at you in another attempt.

– Name… Say name.

The answer was silence and your action: suddenly taking his palm and looking at it closely. A second later, and at him too.

– I want to do good you.

Your language skills have improved, it's nice to know. Scarletella grunted questioningly, slightly arching his eyebrows. He didn't quite understand, but you were already satisfied that he didn't refuse.

_

And now he's sitting on the floor with you, obligingly letting you do whatever you want to do. In the process, he gradually began to enter a kind of trance, carried away by the noise of your breathing and random sounds from you.

But everything comes to an end, and your palm finally leaves him, signaling the end of the "beauty salon". Scarletella looks at you with his frighteningly empty eyes, in which there is an almost naive misunderstanding.

You chuckle, nodding your head at what you've done.

– Done. Look.

The ghost obediently raises his hands in front of him and curiously examines his nails. The red and black colors in his clothes are identical to the lacquers. It looks neat. Nicely. What you have done is always beautiful. You always do your best for him.

– You like?

The ghost wants to smile softly, as you always do when something turns out well and feels good for you. But his smile stretches crookedly and looks completely different from what he probably expected. You've known for a long time what he's trying to do.

– I like. Like. Very. I like!

A chuckle escapes your lips again. It's nice when the work is evaluated properly. He knows how to please, it turns out. How nice.

A moment later, Scarletella stops almost incredulously, feeling the warmth of your palm on the top of his head. He knows this gesture (by the way that scrawling guy did it, which he definitely doesn't want to think about next to you). But just touching turns into stroking, to which the ghost reacts suddenly with a quiet hum of static. It even seems that if he had the opportunity to breathe, he would hold it in amazement. It is clear from him that he wants to express something, but is absolutely unable to formulate words, his eyes widening in admiration.

Because then you laugh good-naturedly, not loudly, not even in a voice, only with sighs and rhythmic lifting of your chest and shoulders. How charmingly stupid this menacing ghost looked, it was only necessary to make such a simple gesture. You even want to call him cute.

Scarletella could have sworn on his damned soul that he felt his heart beating in his chest and his body getting hotter. It absorbs every sound and movement that you make, trying to remember everything completely. Empty eyes are now filled with something that amuses and… bores you every time, to your regret.

The stroking stops, the innocent moment ruined by his extra feelings, and you quickly stand up, taking your makeup bag and crowbar before he can do anything. But the only thing he can do is to break out of the trance.

And stare openly.

– Goodbye.

You say quickly and disappear from view. You would like to admit that you didn’t really want to, because for the first time you managed to touch another part of him that was not connected with some sick mania to pursue you. But alas, one hint of this ruined all the charm.

You don't need it.

At the same time, Scarletella finds himself overwhelmed by the growing vines of adoration for you. His hands shake slightly, as if he’s trying to remember the warmth of your palms on them.

How much do you love him if you treat him so well?

Give him more.

[fundashnee-rott]

I like the idea that mr.scarletella isn't chasing you because he's yandare but because he desperately wants to do the caramelldansen dance but can't really do it because he doesn't want his umbrella to get dirty and then he sees you and is like "please hold onto this."

[mimicstarghost]

Mr.Crawling and Mr.Scarletella 🖤❤️

[jackle-fundashii]

Mr.scarletella night time fit would be like this;

[whokilledsamara]

i need fluff for mr.scarletella !!!

we all know he would watch us sleep before or during a relationship but what happens if mc has a nightmare? like subtlety twitching in her sleep, eyebrows furrowed, in a fetal position.

NIGHTMARES

a hc response for Mr. Scarletella x reader { an: ah this is so cute! }

warnings! : none! simple fluff and cuddling. very sfw. queen is used as a petname, though no pronouns specified.

as stated, he definitely would watch you sleep. both before you accepted him {so he thinks} and after.

he finds you adorable, watching your body move as you breath, and the cute little position you stay in while you sleep. he enjoys being there and making sure you are safe. in his.. own creepy way.

the moment he sees you twitch, he doesn't react. he thinks it is just a thing humans do at random during sleeping hours.

though, when he hears a small whine slip from those pretty lips of yours, he stills. your brows furrow and you curl closer to your knees, clearly in distress.

he pauses, not quite sure what to do. for a second he thinks about finding Mr. Crawling or Mr. Silvair, but decides against it. he calmly sets down his umbrella against the wall, slipping off his coat and sinking to his knees next to you.

he watches you for a second, thinking against his next actions as he dislikes contact, but moves forward. he slides next to you, pulling his coat around your much smaller form as a makeshift blanket. his hands slip on your waist and he presses you close to him, curling his body around you.

comforting you the best he can without waking you. you are his queen after all. he would do anything for you.

before you can wake up he would be gone, but that is as expected. hopefully next time you can willingly cuddle with him.

{ made by @whokilledsamara }