#homicipher angst

[amourluvie]

་༘࿐ ETERNAL LOVE . .

synopsis 𓂃 in which you were his past lover,whom he loved more than anything,now reincarnated and infront of him, he feels like his undead heart is beating again.

character 𓂃 mr crawling from homicipher

contents 𓂃 angst,fluff

notes 𓂃 chat I cooked with this idea

𓂃 he couldn't fathom the fact you were standing right infront of him,the same face he found so alluring and beautiful,that used to embrace him and kiss him with those soft lips when he was once human, remembering all of it made him feel like he was alive again.

You were confused on why mr crawling always followed you, and was so loving and protective towards you- it strangely felt nostalgic,a familiar wave of comfort washed over you as he gave you headpats,which made you melt into his touch.

As days went by searching for an exit to escape dark,terrifying "apartment" filled with entities that tried to kill you , chased you down with weapons , threw you down hard into the concrete floor which actually caused you to bleed with a injury that was non fatal as mr crawling took you to mr silvair immediately after, he was concerned and scared the second he saw the fact you were injured and was even on the brink of crying, being tired of everything.

There were times you lost him,making you all alone to defend yourself.

Thankfully , you found him quickly, or he found you by scaring you from behind.

The day finally came as you were blessed enough to find a elevator that will lead you to your own world, and there was this urge to take mr crawling with you, you couldn't lie about your feelings and not say you have,been inlove with him by now.

As you and him were in the elevator, occasionally glancing at eachother,you felt like you knew mr crawling before,something about him just felt way too familiar - it was stupid to think about but it was hard trying to hide it.

It's like you and him knew eachother in another,past life.

timeskip to when you had started living with him by now, you guys were practically a married couple now,being locked in eachother's embrace while sleeping,laughing with eachother.

Recently you started to have these vivid dreams,which included a man,with long black hair that resembled mr crawling's , his mannerisms and personality were just like his too,gentle and kind.

he had this warm smile that made your heart flutter with affection,his voice smooth like silk and velvety, and his eyes you swore were like the galaxy,shimmering like the small stars engraved in it.

He was absolutely ephemeral, but he couldn't be mr crawling right? You were just dreaming after all!

Or that's what you thought as it suddenly clicked together as the dreams became more vivid day by day,at this point you knew these dreams were nothing else but a reflection of your own memories from your past life,and mr crawling was indeed the man from your dreamscape.

And it left you to wonder,what happened to mr crawling?

You questioned yourself,what made him turn into what he was now? How did he even got into that world in the first place?

Maybe he was just a unfortunate soul just like you,who got trapped in that realm,and couldn't get out like you did as every part of him that was human started to rot away,his eyes not being in the sockets as it was ripped out just like his humanity by another monster.

he thought he lost you forever, that he couldn't have you in his arms again,that he couldn't see your bright smile that lit up his world when it was dark- that he couldn't feel your love anymore.

but there you were,finally reunited with him.

He will never let you go,never ever. Never again.

[eliasorchard]

love was the law, religion was taught — mr. hood x gn!reader

summary: you are the child to a pastor and his wife. all your life you've learned god's teaching, but what happens when you fall in love with someone like mr. hood?

tags: angst, religious stuff, conflicting feelings, guilt

note: no disrespect to any religions btw..holy shit i forgot to add this but this is an AU i made where they're in the human world and more civilised, thus they can speak clearly & stuff

you were raised in the house of god, child to the highly respected pastor and his brilliant wife. love, you were told, was the cornerstone of all things holy—a divine commandment. but that love was also conditional, your father said. to love wrongly was to invite sin, to fall away from the righteous path that let to god. to love outside of god's design was to sin.

you complied. you followed his words without question. you lived by that law, because it was what your father had drilled into you—night after night, morning after morning; as soon as you woke, before meals, and just before bed. his sermons were unyielding, because he believed it was the only way to save your soul.

until you met him.

it was a thursday night. you were alone in the sanctuary, rehearsing hymns for sunday's service. the air grew cold suddenly, unnaturally so, and you turned to see a figure standing in the hallway—a hooded figure. you couldn't see his face. and while he looked human, he sure didn't feel it. he was different.

a chill ran down your spine.

"who are you?" you shuffled backwards in fear, almost knocking yourself over the benches that lined the church left and right.

"apologies," he said and took a step inside. you flinched. he stopped in place. this was normal to him—he was unusually tall, his face was hidden, everything about him spoke danger to you. "i didn't know someone would be here tonight."

you clutched the cross around your neck. "you didn't answer me." you declared, although you were sweating buckets and your breathing was irregular and fast. "who are you?"

the figure stiffened. he didn't have a name. not a human one, anyway. by now, he was expecting you to have dashed right out of the sanctuary. he'd even scooted to the side a little so you could make your getaway. "you're not afraid of me?"

one beat. two beats.

"the lord protects his children against all evils."

you couldn't see his face, but you were sure you felt him smile. "i don't remember," he finally said. "i don't remember my name."

your shoulders slouched a little—and that made you wonder, were you already getting used to his off-putting presence? or was it confusion that he didn't remember his name? or pity?

"alright." you eyed him up and down. his most distinct features? he didn't have them—hidden under his cloak and hood. "i'll call you mr. hood. why are you here?"

"mr. hood." he tasted the words on his tongue. "that will do."

yet he never answered your question.

you'd begun to pray more often. your father had noticed. every time he got a peek of you praying on your knees before bedtime through the half-opened door, he felt proud. but what he didn't know, was the conflicts bubbling inside of your mind.

should you tell your father? that this strange figure, hooded and unnervingly huge would visit the sanctuary every night?

at first, you thought it was a trial—sent by god to test your faith. you would pray and pray for strength and for answers, knees bruising in the process. but god didn't listen to your prayers. he never did. your answers never came. but mr. hood always did.

mr. hood never visited you during the daytime. however, as soon as the sun had set and the believers had returned home, he would come. you had just thought it was because the others would be terrified of him, and that was why he hid himself. you thought he had gotten in a terrible accident that caused him to be somehow shunned from society, and that was why he had decided to hide himself behind a cloak and a hood.

"ahem," you cleared your throat.

you enjoyed talking to him about the bible, about everything that lied within the pages; the commandments, the tale of the lord and his son inside. "and on the fifth day, the lord said 'let there be light' and then, there was light....."

mr. hood listened attentively, he never once interrupted you or shushed you, never questioned you or laughed at your words even when you would stutter at times, trying to recall everything that was mentioned in the bible. he was a wonderful listener.

if he was an evil spirit, or a monster, he would've been affected somehow—right? when you were 'practicing' those sermons in front of him, when it was really to see if he would be in pain somehow. but he didn't react. it didn't seem to affect him.

"you're a great storyteller, (name)." he complimented.

and for some reason—for some godforsaken, horrible and everything terribly wrong reason, you felt your cheeks heat up at his words. what on earth was happening to you?

you couldn't tell him, you couldn't tell anyone—for god's sake, you couldn't even tell yourself. you were so hellbent on trying to convince yourself that you did not like him. why would you? he never showed his face, never told you anything about himself. it was always you. that's right, you thought to yourself. you were deluding yourself into thinking you liked him, when you really didn't. or perhaps, just perhaps mr. hood really was an evil entity, and you were being pulled into his evil schemes.

"what—?" it was the first time you heard him gasp, when you suddenly threw holy water at him, drenching his cloak in the process. "(name)? what's wrong? what are you doing?" he asked.

he didn't know it was holy water, of course. he didn't react.

why didn't he?

"sorry." you mumbled. "i slipped."

these 'accidents' kept happening, like you throwing salt at him to see if he'd vanish in thin air, or saying prayers (aggressively, for some reason—all eyes wide and crazed) to see if he'd be exorcised. it was a funny sight. and it was the first time you heard him laugh. although it was a peculiar, strange sounding laugh, as if he wasn't used to laughing.

as nights passed, you kept telling yourself otherwise, trying to convince yourself that god, you didn't like him. but you knew somewhere deep inside of you that, no. no, you did. your feelings for him were slowly changing, you were becoming softer.

you fell in love with him slowly, painfully, and against everything you’d ever been taught. you hated yourself for it. you hated how he made you feel, how easily he made you question the rules you had spent your whole life following. you hated how much you wanted him to stay a little longer in the empty sanctuary with you, even as you prayed for him to leave just as much.

"you're holding your breath every time you look at me," mr. hood said one night. he was trying to ease the tension since you looked particularly off tonight, to joke around a little to somehow cheer you up. "like you're waiting for me to disappear."

him, and his monotonous joke didn't quite catch up to you. and even if it did, you kept silent. because it was true.

you felt guilty. it wasn't his fault.

you started avoiding the sanctuary. avoiding the pew where he waited on nights you knew he would appear. but mr. hood continued to wait. sitting on one of his usual benches alone. waiting. waiting. and continue waiting for you. eventually, he started feeling something strange stirring in his chest. he didn't quite know what to call it. anger? sadness? frustration?

where were you, (name)? he misses you. come see him.

he doesn't know where to look for you, he doesn't know where he can see you again. it's been weeks. just please, come see him.

at first, it was nothing; a faint spark, an itch crawling up his throat. then, it grew sharper—jagged like claws raking at his insides, tearing, scratching, desperate to break free. a jumble of words and half-formed confessions burning him inside out.

heavy. unheard. painful. agonisingly heartbreaking.

your absence gave him time to think, to truly question what this budding feeling inside of him was—like a sprouting sapling, breaking past the stubborn and dry ground that was his soul. he began to observe humans, as much as he could in great detail. why were you avoiding him? what was he feeling?

it was an unfamiliar ground that stretched out before him, he had to understand as much as he could before he steps on it.

mr. hood was grabbing at nothing now. yet he would do it, he would do anything if it meant he could see you. and he did.

loving mr. hood wasn’t like what the lovestruck townspeople would talk about. it wasn't like floating on a pile of clouds, it wasn't soft and sweet. it was like breaking—shattering into pieces you couldn’t put back together, as if you were thrown into a million of spears, each piercing your flesh. you knew it was wrong, at least by the standards you had been taught.

and oh, how love haunts. you were absolutely, hundred percent sure he was some sort of evil ghost now. you'd confirmed it. he haunted you in the best and worst ways, making you laugh when you didn’t mean to, smile when you knew you shouldn’t.

"...!" mr. hood had almost toppled over a bench, standing up so suddenly when he heard your footsteps enter the church. he called out your name, but spoke no more than that. and the two of you stood, parallel to each other, frozen in place.

mr. hood dared not breathe in case it would somehow scare you away. a heavy silence filled the cathedral for a long while. none of you spoke for a long, long while—and the silence, too much and too unbearable for him, made him break it first.

"you love me." he said, his voice breaking just enough to make your throat ache. he always saw right through you. the softness in his tone and his words themselves made you flinch.

"i don't." but your words cracked before they left you.

"don't lie to me, (name)." mr. hood searched your face, desperate and hurt. it was hurting him to see you hurt. how could you say you didn't when you were right there in front of him, pain etched across your face? "you do, don't you?"

"i—" your throat closed up. you couldn't say it. couldn't admit it. because if you did, everything would unravel. if you did, you would have to come to the facts that yes, yes you are in love. you're in love with everything evil and unholy.

"you do." he said softly, bitterly. "but you won't let yourself."

"i... i can't."

"why not?"

"because it's wrong!" the words burst out of you.

mr. hood flinched. and though you couldn't see his face, his hurt was eminent, and it was stabbing your heart. he was hurting in ways he didn't understand himself. it pained him to no end.

"how can you say that?" his voice was weak, barely audible.

"and what do you want me to do?" you snapped. "you just— you want me to throw everything away? spit on everything my father believes? my faith? everything i've ever been taught? over you?"

it felt like a thousand thorns were piercing his heart. he felt his body was crumpling into nothing with anger and heartbreak.

"do you even believe it anymore?" he felt increasingly frustrated.

rage flared through you. everything you'd been learning up until now, the prayers, the hymns—how could he dismiss it so easily? was he saying that you weren't a true believer, when all you did throughout your life was just that? you yelled, your voice cracking, tears burning your eyes: "i don't know what i believe!"

mr. hood stared at you for a long, agonizing moment; his chest heaving. then softly, he said, "yes—you do. you're just too afraid to admit it." and the silence that followed was deafening.

as if it couldn't get any worse, your father had found out. you remember—the dead of the night—your father striding in with the bible clutched tightly in his hand. he'd been suspecting you for weeks, definitely not this, but he knew something was wrong. "how dare you bring that abomination into god's house!"

"It's not like that!" you remember screaming, or at least you think you were. it felt like the words should've been louder, like they should've meant something, but all that came out was this small, trembling sound. "he's not evil! please! he's just..he's just-"

your father's rage swallowed everything, and in the middle of it, you couldn't even tell if your voice had truly risen or if it was just in your head. maybe you weren't screaming at all.

maybe you just hoped you were.

"just what?" your father's voice was booming. a poor, lost soul? is that the words you use to comfort yourself whilst sinning with the devil? you've let this... thing worm into your heart! you've been blinded! i raised you better! i raised you to fear god and his word! and this is how you repay me? how you repay him?"

you opened your mouth, trying to summon words—any words, but your tongue felt heavy and numb and your eyes were blurring with unshed tears. you stood there, frozen, head bowed and hands crumpled besides you. every word of defense, every protest you had crumbled under his words and your guilt.

your eyes flickered upwards to mr. hood momentarily.

mr. hood had seen it. he had seen the fight leave you. he'd taken a single step forward, like he wanted to cross the divide between the two of you, to reach for you, to say something. he stopped.

you saw the truth in him. the resignation. there was nothing angry or afraid about his air. just resignation. complete, utter, all consuming resignation and exhaustion. he spoke nothing, except muttering a mournful, barely audible "i'm sorry."

and that broke your heart. your heart dropped to your stomach and perhaps several hundred feet lower. why was he apologising? you should've been the one apologising. not him. never him. it wasn't his fault. why didn't you apologize?

it wasn't clear if mr. hood meant it for you or for what the two of you, or at least him had tried his very best to be with you.

then, he was gone.

"hmph," your father muttered after a long silence, his voice dripping with disgust. "cleanse this place." he'd said so coldly, it made a shiver run down your spine. you realised now, that now amount of salvation would compare to even a minute in mr. hood's arms. there was no peace here. you love him, and it's too late. this, you think, is your penance. "and pray for your soul."

mr. hood never visited the chapel after that night.

@ELIASORCHARD — do not plagiarize, repost or retranslate.

[purple-plum-petals]

Hi!! I saw you have requests open for Homicipher! Could I ask for a drabble with Mr. Gap? I feel like he's underrated but he's my favorite. Maybe a first kiss with him?

⊱ Connection ⊰ || Mr. Gap X Reader

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Character(s): Mr. Gap (Homicipher/文字化化) Reader Type: Human (Gender-Neutral Pronouns) Warning(s): Spoilers for Homicipher (specifically Return End), Canon-typical Mentions of Violence (and horror-elements), Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms (Reader briefly uses physical pain to distract themselves from their emotional discomfort; they also sleep to avoid their emotions), Creature/Monster X Human Relationship (Mr. Gap doesn’t fully comprehend or understand the concept of love the way that humans do, but that’s a barrier for, like… the majority of the cast haha). Anything spoken in the other world’s language will be bolded. Genre: Drabble, Fluff (Hurt/Comfort), Slight Angst, Romantic or Platonic Relationship (It’s Complicated, honestly). Word Count: ~2,685 Request: “Hi!! I saw you have requests open for Homicipher! Could I ask for a drabble with Mr. Gap? I feel like he's underrated but he's my favorite. Maybe a first kiss with him?” Author’s Note: Yipee, my first Homicipher request! Thank you for sending one in! I find Mr. Gap’s character quite entertaining – I loved the running gag of him asking the MC for different parts of their body and being like “for real?” whenever you said no. I found his desire to brag to be quite endearing, too, strangely enough. A lot of the moments that had me chuckling involved Mr. Gap, so I’m somewhat fond of his character as a result. I haven’t written any horror-meets-romance stories since my Creepypasta days, so I apologize if this is a little rough or OOC. I’m still trying to finish the game and digest all the lore haha. 

→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated!  ♡

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Living within the other world had become your new normal at this point, even if you spent most of your days curled under the covers of whatever bed you could find. You slept whenever you had the chance. It wasn’t necessarily because you were tired, but rather a desire to keep your mind from wandering too much. You still found the occasional earthquakes and frequently shifting dimly-lit hallways confusing to traverse at best or frustrating to deal with at worst, but you hoped you would slowly grow to get used to them with more time. 

You run your hands down your face as you lay on the strangely pristine white bed, staring down at the blue bag that rested by your feet on the floor. For whatever reason, there was a strange feeling of loneliness that was deep-seated in your chest. It was a weight pulling you down, and it was one that had lingered for quite some time now. 

When you returned to the other world, you realized that you would most likely never be able to see Mr. Silvair or Mr. Crawling again. Despite telling yourself it was fine, that life was all about encounters and departures, that horrendous emptiness in your heart hadn’t diminished yet. 

You remember when Mr. Gap brought you back to the other world in exchange for a heart – your mind is conflicted when you think about the organ you had given him, a heart that wasn’t yours. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying not to think about it for longer than you need to. 

You try to remember his hand reaching out from the dark void of the bag after arriving in the strange world once more. You remember the way his cold palm felt against your scalp, lightly patting your hair in a way you thought was meant to be comforting… only for him to state he wanted your head with that jokester-esque grin of his. 

You chuckle quietly to yourself at the memory of the expression that crossed his face whenever you told him that, no, he’s not allowed to take your fingers or whatever else seems to pique his interest at the moment. Then, your mind remembers the look on his face when you asked if he was worried about you. Mr. Gap didn’t seem as though he was capable of experiencing emotions the way that most humans were, but, well… it was someone to talk to, at least, even if you run the risk of him asking for an organ or body part or hair. What did he even do with that stuff, anyway? 

Letting out a deep sigh, your eyes fall to the bag on the floor. He really only appeared whenever he wanted, but maybe you could see if he was in the mood to at least startle you as he so often enjoyed doing. With a deep breath, you reach down and grab the bag by its black straps, feeling the somewhat rough fabric against your palms. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling, per se, but it was a reminder that at least you could still feel. 

You open the carrier, and the only thing that greets you is that inky blackness. You briefly wonder if it was an infinite darkness held within the unassuming gym bag, and what would happen if you just threw random things inside for the fun of it. However, as you stare into the void, a familiar face pops into view, effectively startling you out of your trance. 

Mr. Gap smiles even wider at your reaction, seemingly proud of himself for still managing to startle you. You’d think that you would be more immune to jumpscares after spending so much time in the other world, but apparently not. 

“Scared you.” Mr. Gap speaks proudly, the language you had slowly been absorbing over your journey becoming easier and easier to decipher and remember. That was good at least, you thought. It would be far too difficult to live in a place where you couldn’t even understand what everyone was saying. 

You roll your eyes at him, speaking under your breath but loud enough so he could hear your muttering, “You’re rude, you know that?”

He stares up at you with an unimpressed expression, waiting for you to speak again. Eventually, you tell him with a frown, speaking to him in a language he understood, “You mean.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes at you, yet he seemingly did not take any offense to your comment. Then, his gaze returns to your face, and you two simply stare at each other in a prolonged silence. Well, now what? How exactly do you explain to a creature that you were lonely when they probably couldn’t even empathize with what you were experiencing? Did you even know the word for lonely in their language, if there was one?

“I, umm…” You pause, taking a moment to try and figure out the words to say, averting your gaze to a crack in the concrete flooring of the room you had made into your makeshift home. Mr. Gap is surprisingly patient, staring up at you while your hands begin to fidget with the textured straps of the bag. You look back down at him and say, your voice is surprisingly soft, “I upset. Want talk.”

Then, almost as if on cue, he smiles and reaches a hand out of the bag, making a grabbing motion as he asks, “Give heart?”

Honestly, you weren’t sure what else you were expecting, and now you felt like an idiot for expecting literally anything else to come out of his mouth. You frown deeply and quickly zip up the bag, disregarding the shocked expression on his face at the action, before tossing it on the floor without a second thought. You let out a groan, clawing your hands down your face while trying to ignore the stinging sensation your nails left in their wake across your skin.

At least the pain raking across your flesh was a distraction from the ache in your chest. 

You decide, once more, to take a nap. Whenever your mind was racing or the thoughts became too much to bear, you slept. Honestly, there wasn’t much else you could do here. After all, you weren’t in the mood to go around swinging at anything and everything with your crowbar, especially since you had vowed to only use it in self-defense. This world was your home now, and you didn’t want to make enemies who would, in return, only make your existence more miserable. 

You close your eyes and attempt to drift off into the world of dreams, a place that wasn’t this world nor the one you came from, yet your attention is grabbed by the feeling of something shifting under the covers. Your eyes fly open faster than light as your fist grabs the thick comforter, lifting it quickly while your other hand went to grab the crowbar you kept by your bedside. 

However, Mr. Gap’s face comes into view, and your hand pauses as soon as your fingers graze across the rusted metal of your weapon. You frown deeply and tell him with a sternness in your tone, “I told you to stop doing that – I’m going to accidentally kill you one of these days.”

“Why upset?” He asks you suddenly, and it’s a question that has your mind stopped in its tracks. You hadn’t been expecting him to come back so soon, let alone ask you a question like that. For a moment, you wonder if he was worried about you, only for the memory of the last time you asked him that question to pop into your head. 

You lay there, staring at the darkness under the covers, debating on whether or not you should tell him your true feelings. After some moment of contemplation, you decide to try and speak with him about what you have been experiencing. After all, the worst thing that would probably happen is him asking for your heart again or something. 

“I…” You start, pausing for a moment to swallow, your tongue strangely heavy in your mouth, “No home. I lonely.”

Mr. Gap’s brows furrow and he states plainly, “This home.”

Just as you thought, he didn’t understand. If anything, your statement only seemed to confuse him further. His expression was also different, one you hadn’t quite seen on him before. You had seen him shocked, smug, and displeased, but the look on his face appeared almost… frustrated? 

You begin to try and snake your way out from under the covers, feeling like going on a walk now instead of trying to take a nap. However, the room suddenly goes dark as Mr. Gap pulls you back under the sheets, covering your entire body in the surprisingly soft duvet. For a moment, you feel panic swell in your veins and you wonder if something you had said upset him to the point of wanting to kill you. However, no pain ever came. You just heard his voice state once more, “This home.”

“No, I know it’s my home now, I just…” You speak, your mind going through word after word, attempting to translate what you want to tell him in his language. It was a little unnerving, being unable to see anything in the darkness that now enveloped your body. You pushed that anxiety aside, though, telling Mr. Gap, “I… miss touch. Miss connection. This world different – lonely.” 

There’s once again no reply, and soon the feeling of another under the sheets disappears. You let out a long sigh as you remove yourself from under the covers, Mr. Gap no longer under the blanket with you. You take a moment to compose yourself before standing up from the bed and grabbing your reliable crowbar – it was walking time.

You walked and walked in circles until your legs felt ready to collapse, returning to your makeshift base after what seemed like hours. You fell face-first onto the bed, your crowbar slipping from your hand to the concrete floor with a loud clatter; you probably would have cringed at the noise if not for the exhaustion in your bones. There’s a long stretch of silence, and you feel sleep start to creep into your mind, when a simple “Hello” snaps you out of your stupor. 

You turn your head from where it was nuzzled into a pillow to look down at the bag you had tossed to the floor earlier, seeing Mr. Gap peeking up at you from inside. You wonder if you should say anything back before eventually relenting, echoing to him the same greeting. 

There’s a shuffling noise, the sound of paper being crinkled before you watch as he pulls out what appears to be a magazine, holding it out for you to take. You sit up in the bed and look down at him with a blank expression, saying with your lips pulled into a flat line, “No head. No finger. No heart–”

“Not want anything.” He replies, effectively cutting you off as he holds out the magazine closer to you. It seems as though he can read the expression of pure disbelief on your face before he clarifies, “Take paper. You have.”

Despite some reservations, you eventually do reach out and take the small book from his grasp, whispering your thanks. It’s a relatively new magazine, surprisingly, and only the edges of the glossy paper seemed crinkled. You flip through the pages, wondering what information you were supposed to be deriving from the book. After all, it didn’t seem like anything special��...

Then, a picture of two people hugging appeared. Two humans, holding each other in a tight embrace with bright and happy smiles on their faces. One was kissing the other’s cheek, and the mere sight alone caused your breath to hitch. Oh, it seemed like ages since the last time you felt the level of comfort with another like the people in the picture, and there was a part of yourself that regretted coming back. It wasn’t like you belonged in your world anymore, either… you really were a monster with nowhere to call home, weren’t you?

“Why upset?” Mr. Gap asks, his voice surprisingly gentle. You look down at him and wonder how he knew you were hurting. Then, you heard the sound of something hitting the pages of the magazine in your hand. Your gaze returns to the book below you, noticing the water droplets that had fallen down your cheeks and onto the magazine, causing the ink on the paper to bleed slightly. You quickly wipe your face yet, before you can do anything else, two arms wrap around your waist and your body is once again shrouded in the darkness under the covers as Mr. Gap pulls you under.

His body is cold to the touch, you note, yet it’s not an unpleasant sensation. Before you have the chance to speak, you hear Mr. Gap tapping the page of the magazine in your hand, asking you quietly, “You want that? Touch?”

“Do I… want a hug?” You ask him, wishing you had the ability to see in the dark. You hum and lay your head back, enjoying the softness of the pillow underneath your skull, “I want good touch.”

You close your eyes and wait, expecting Mr. Gap to ask for something in return or simply disappear… but he doesn’t, and you find your eyes flying open when you feel his arms wrap around your torso. His touch was experimental, uncertain as his palms rested against your lower back. His head is resting on your stomach and although you cannot see him, you know he is staring at your face through the darkness. 

You suddenly find yourself becoming choked up, the tears forming in your eyes as your arms instinctively wrap around him as well, holding him close to your body like one would hold a stuffed toy. Mr. Gap makes a strangled noise, yet you don’t let up on your hold. You sit up on the bed, dragging him along with you, before nuzzling your face into what you assumed was his neck. 

He’s completely frozen, his hold on you never once faltering yet never once tightening, either. A part of you wonders if you broke him or something, especially considering he had never really been the physically affectionate type. You both sit like this under the covers for a long time, and you eventually feel his body and muscles relax under your touch. 

While the ache in your chest wasn’t gone, it had definitely diminished as you both held onto each other with a tinge of desperation in both of your actions. You let out a sigh, and you feel Mr. Gap shiver as your warm breath fans against his cold skin. The dried tear stains on your cheeks made your skin feel tight, but you smiled nevertheless as you whispered to him, “Thank you. I grateful – happy.”

Your hand reaches up, cupping his cheek in your palm as you slowly guide his face to yours. Oh, how you wish you could have seen his expression as you placed a kiss on his cheek, your slightly chapped lips pressing against his marred flesh. You feel him jolt, and you wonder if he’ll disappear right then and there. He doesn’t though, and instead, you feel his hands remove themselves from your hips to hold your face in his grasp. 

Instinctively, you close your eyes, and you feel the slight tremble in his fingers as he leans closer. You smile softly, finding his nervous demeanor to be quite cute considering how smug he tended to be. Then, you felt it, his lips against your cheek. 

Mr. Gap’s lips were in even worse shape than yours, but you found yourself not caring in the slightest as he placed shockingly gentle kisses against the apple of your cheek. You giggle at the sweet action, the noise of your laughter egging him on as his kisses become more confident and more frequent. You do the same, placing feather-light kisses against his skin, whispering to him as you pepper his face in smooches, “Happy, happy, happy...”

[hshsoaoxhvsjsj]

the man who can't be moved

There's a new folktale in the city. If you take an elevator down in an abandoned set of apartments you'll find a man waiting there once you reach the bottom. No one knows why he's there. Most assume it's just because of the ways of the supernatural. But rumor has it that everytime the elevator comes down, people see him waiting there with an almost relieved and gleefull smile, until they step out the doors. Rumor has it that you see his face fall, seemingly on the verge of tears as he pushes whoever came down this time back into the elevator, as if they're not the one he's looking for.

No one knows why he waits there. There are some who think he's a guardian of the mysterious realm behind him, and others think he's just there to keep humans at bay. No one knows except you.

You, who abandoned the ghost that loved you with all his heart nearly 10 years ago now. You, who told him to wait so he wouldn't follow you back. You, who promised that you wouldn't leave him, just to get away from that hellish world and everything that connects you to it.

You, who despite knowing of the rumours, came back one night to the elevator through which you escaped through all those years ago. And although you were aware of what others said, that Mr Crawling was still waiting there after all these years, you still decided to go see for yourself.

The elevator reached the bottom with a soft ping, and the doors open to a miserable sight. He's there, as large and as messy as you remember, except there are tears dripping down his eyes as he sleeps, curled into a tiny ball. you can make out soft whimpers of your name, followed by a quiet 'sorry' and 'miss you', as if apologising for some unknown sin that made you leave. his hands are clutching onto your old clothes, ones that you thought Miss Bride had, but he'd clearly somehow gotten them from her.

And as much as your hated your time in this world, your hand reached out on impulse to pat his head, as if reassuring him it's not his fault. but what you didn't expect was for Mr Crawling to jump upwards as soon as you touched him. his body knocked you back into the elevator, and the look in his eyes was heartbreaking when he realised it was actually you

tears were streaming down from empty sockets, and you could see thick knots and lumps in his hair that you used to untangle when he was cuddling against you. his sobs echoed through the elevator as his body trapped yours, and you could just make out words from the soft cries

*sorry, sorry, sorry, no leave again please, cannot again, hurts much, cannot breathe, cannot think when no you*

*me do anything, please no leave, pleasepleasepleaseplease, sorry, so sorry, scared of cold, scared of hurt, hurt so much now, cannot again, willnot again...*

the way his hands gripped onto the back of your clothes, the way his body shook as he clung on, terrified of being abandoned again just showed how much he needed you. but you hated this world, and everything about it, including him. so this was your final curse against his love.

as the crowbar made contact with his head, Mr Crawling was out cold. tears frozen in his empty eyes, hands going limp around you. and this time you left for good. you took everything with you, the old clothes, the knots in his hair and his heart that was yours entirely.

he woke up nearly as soon as you left, standing up in a panic as he realised your presence was gone. but he slowly sat down again, taking comfort in the fact you were there. that you still remembered him. that if he waited long enough, you'd come back for him...right?

this rumour is now hundreds of years old. it's pretty much become a legend at this point. students and adults alike, seeking out this place for a dare or a test of courage do not come back alive now. some say the man they meet is a protector, trying to stop whatever chaos is contained in that realm from reaching the outside world. some say the man is a monster who eats humans to survive, and the legend was it's doing to make sure it had a steady food source.

but only those who manage to encounter Mr Crawling see the true reason for these murders. the dark eyebags underneath what would've been his eyes speak volumes of sadness and regret, and the way his skin clung onto his bones suggests he hasn't eaten for ages. they see memories of an intense love flash through their minds, a new way of communication Mr Crawling had developed over the years waiting for you. since you loved communication right? these deaths are his way of vengenance for your betrayal, but even though he thinks he hates you now, he cannot sleep without realizing the truth.

He will never stop waiting. he knows you've moved on ages ago but he cannot bring himself to accept that you're gone. he will still whispers your name in his sleep, no matter how many centuries have passed.

Mr Crawling is waiting for his heart to be returned to him, and he will keep on waiting no matter how much time may pass.

because for you, he will always be waiting in front of that flickering green light, hoping that the next time those doors open, it will be you once again.

[mockoncheese]

Mr. Ragdoll :ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤCharacter Background

A vague background of of Mr. Ragdoll explains that in chapter 1, and other few chapters, MC have encountered a few things which have shown his subtle appearances. The porcelain doll in the hallway somewhere in the starting of chapter 1 where MC has only started to find her way out alone and Mr. Crawling only intends to follow.

Exhibit A :

This time where she saw that porcelain doll was when she should have known that there was an another presence with them (only Mr. Crawling did). On the other hand, Mr. Ragdoll who has felt that there is someone new with them in the underworld has him interested. Sending one of his collections to see who it was (MC). Ending up his precious possession going to waste after being broken by her because of Mr. Crawling's advice to break it.

Exhibit B :

Mr. Ragdoll took the doll after them leaving the scene.

The following event where she and Mr. Crawling saw four teddy bears; one big, two with a same size, and one that has a torn leg, were also Mr. Ragdoll's possessions.

[insert from my scratches] * His relations with the other characters are pretty neutral except for Mr. Stitch and Hooded Child, they always try to get too careless around his things that one of his creations were destroyed. Hinting that one teddy bear with a torn leg in one of the routes. He didn't want to throw it so he just put in a place with the three other teddy bears, knowing he can go see them everytime he wants.

His appearances in the game isn't as relevant as the others which is similar to Mr. Wheelchair, but it's not deniable that Mr. Ragdoll has also taken his own interest towards the MC.

Little more details about him that I made.

Mr. Ragdoll 's face has stitches that includes his mouth, as this hinders his ability to communicate, the only way he can express himself by words is a pen and a paper. Since Mr. Ragdoll has his own place for making dolls, he probably has the materials. If other monsters can be understood by speaking their language, he speaks by writing poorly Nihongo characters that will look just as the same as the language characters you see in the game. The reason why he can't be out there and talk to anyone is because it will be hard for him to communicate in his condition he caused himself (which was stupid). He's also unable to communicate when there's danger so he will definitely take actions without a word.

Mr. Ragdoll eats human flesh the same as what other monsters eat, but he doesn't slaughter people for it. Instead, he eats human flesh from dead people (sometimes left overs from Mr. Silvair's/Silver's experiments). But if MC kills for him for food then he wouldn't mind, as if he can do anything about what she will do anyway.

One of the reasons for his quite blood stained appearance is because of Mr. Machete, after a few moments of him having turned into a monster. He came across Mr. Machete on the same path where MC found him. Mr. Machete challenged him by throwing the weapon he has and having Mr. Ragdoll severely injured on the shoulder, but he's not one to step back on a fight either so he went for a 1 on 1 with the bigger one. Ending up losing because he has no weapon and only injured on different parts of his body.

Mr. Ragdoll was originally a human who also has been trapped in the underworld. Unfortunately, being unable to get out that took him more than long enough has made him turn into one of the monsters and forget his sense of identity except for the fact that he was once a human. And he would admit about how much he wants to go back as a human, even though he is not the type to express himself a lot, not even to MC.

Mr. Ragdoll likes dolls even back in his human days, as he believed that things like dolls can possess life like normal humans, or for his metaphoric expression—that stuffed toys or dolls can give the same warmth like humans do. (He also used to be a doll maker back then.)

His form/appearance shows his fondness for dolls, but in the literal sense—it's quite displeasing. An unsettling side fact of him is that his obsession for dolls got worse when he knew that his body can regenerate or not kill him after morphing into a monster. That made him tear his left arm and sew the deep and severe wound as he would love to look like a doll himself. The stitches on his face are a part of that desire too, except for his mouth that he didn't like because of his attempt to give it a beautiful cut upwards, but it failed and only ending up stitching it close. It makes him unable to talk. The reason why the stitch on his lips are upside down is to prevent some flesh from dangling out. The stitches on his other body parts are also because of the doll getup he desires to achieve.

Mr. Ragdoll 's favorite doll is that porcelain doll MC broke, he tried fixing it again after taking it away when they left it. That's why the doll can still be seen somewhere.

ㅤ[inserts this scene]

A side fact, Mr. Ragdoll created a doll that looks like MC out of his interest, he's not shown that throughout the game however. As he preferred hiding himself from the attention. He is already contented with the doll he has.

CHARACTER DESIGN:

(inserted the doll from the game)

i think this ends here for now, i'll follow up his past life (human version) soon. thanks for reading throughout the whole thing! Raggy would give you a doll if he could. :3

[kolyatoast]

Fading into silence

Summary: you go cray2 aft being in that damn place for so long.

Warnings: angst(?), slight gore(mr gap nom finger)

A/n: its 3am and i felt like writing a short blurb since if ive been brainrotting for homicipher. Turned out too long and i wanted to add mr crawling but maybe for the next part! Did not proofread sorry🦈

You already lost track of the day and time since youve been down here. Three, four weeks? Could be months. You dont know. Water dripped from the worn ceiling,. How long has it been since youve drank a clean cup of water ? Or a shower even.

Mr gap, as always appears under the covers.

"Me have object. Give finger?"

What peaked your interest was the glass panel next to him. Mr gap always brought random things he found from the human world. Guess he managed to get cosmetics too.

"Me give finger"

Pain doesnt phase you anymore. Not after losing multiple limbs and facing near death experiences from the creatures here. Even with the ability to somehow grow? your body parts back, experiencing the pain wasnt so fun.

You grimaced as his teeth sank into the soft flesh of your finger. Blood spilled all over the white bedsheets that you wont clean. When this had happened the first few times, you practically screamed from the pain of your skin tearing. You miss that feeling. The feeling of being human.

The mirror was slightly shattered at the edges, with a wooden frame and floral engravings. Your room used to have a mirror just like this.

Your reflection. Rough dull skin, stained with blood and grime after being unable to clean yourself up for weeks. Grey and uneven hair. You dont even recognise yourself. Your image used to be one of the things you prided on. Despite your crimes, you still prioritised how you looked. Being here, you lost one of the many things that kept you from losing your humanity.

You threw the mirror against the wall , holding back tears as you clutched on your raincoat.

Part 2 with mr crawling maybe!

[avvriie]

Cold Comfort

Draft #3? this ones for mr hood, angst tho. (might make a part two if somebody asks)

The candlelight made scary shadows that danced on the walls. The air was old and dusty, and it smelled bad, like something wasn't right. Mr. Hood was there, but I couldn't see him, only feel him. He was talking quietly, a low hum, about a door. A door that was locked. It shouldn't be locked. He was trying to open it, and he was getting frustrated, which made me even more frustrated.

He's usually so good at helping people, fixing things... why couldn't he fix this? This stupid locked door, and this even stupider situation between us. It’s not fair. He pushed and pushed, but the heavy wooden door wouldn't move. The groaning sound made me want to scream. He didn't see me, didn't see how fast my heart was beating, didn't notice how shaky my hands were. He was so focused on that stupid door.

I wanted to yell, to shake him, to make him see me. The cold floor felt awful under my feet, like a punishment for being ignored. My hands shook so much as I reached out. My fingers touched something smooth and cold. His arm? A shiver went through me, but it wasn't just excitement. There was anger mixed in, too.

He kept talking about the door, completely lost in the problem. He's good at fixing things, but he's terrible at seeing feelings, especially mine. And it's so unfair. Finally, he let out a big sigh, whispering, "Door can't open. Find new path." His words hung in the air, heavy with his frustration, but also with all my anger.

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken things, with my secret feelings, and with his cluelessness. My tears felt like a waste, a useless show of emotion for someone who wouldn't even notice. He was so close, yet a million miles away.

The flickering candle threatened to go out, which would be a fitting end to this awful, frustrating, and heartbreaking situation. He was so close, yet so incredibly oblivious, and the anger burned inside me, hotter than any candle flame.

I hate him for not noticing me. I hate him for being so blind. I hate this stupid door.

[seeliemansi]

My reaction in every asks who wants me to write for angst. Yes, angst is my specialty. But I've built this tumblr for 18+ stories. Also, stop with the homicipher angst request. I genuinely adore receiving asks from you guys but god, please give them happiness.

I may have known Mr Crawling and Mr Chopped for a moment but If anything happens to both of them, I will kill everyone in this room, and then myself.

[aimeryaa]

He was an experience but she was his everything

I hate this ending, I hate it, I hate it, I HATE IT, but the ANGST… [combusts]

Anyways this will be the last angst I make abt homicipher, expect full fluff and beds-and-roses from now on. I need to cheer up my ghost househusband.

[kastighur]

← back. ᝰ.ᐟ don’t hate me.

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 homicipher. mr. scarletella. fluff. angst if you squint. gn! reader // wc : 957

you were sent to another world by the man with the umbrella, coated in red with a glow that followed him around everywhere. mr. scarletella was the name you had given him.

his delusions lead him to believe that you were giving him gifts, though you were only trying to dispose of bodies in an abandoned building. well, who could blame the man ? if someone was delivering the equivalent of a packed lunch everyday, you’d surely assume that they’d have some motivation.

“ you teach name ? “

mr. scarletella asked, leaning down all the way to meet your eye. the umbrella tilted which shielded you from the non-existent rain, casting that eerie red glow surrounding you both.

clutching your bloodied crowbar in hand, you stood your ground with an unwavering glare but there was no use in hitting him drawing from prior experiences.

“ dislike communicate ? “

he asked, tilting his head slightly to the side. his wide eyes never leaving yours. he wondered why you kept silent, he had seen you around others like mr. crawling, you were much more relaxed. even laughed and spoke with the other entity.

what else could..- oh !

an idea popped in his mind.

mr. scarletella reached his hand out, his cold palm plopping itself on your head, up down up down. he had seen this action being exchanged between mr. crawling and you.

“ pet, pet. “

however, you immediately lifted your crowbar, swinging it at him with full force, just to watch as his body glitched out once again. the man now stood at his full height just a step or two in front of you, the hand on your head now by his side.

mr. scarletella seethed with rage, he didn’t take rejection well, but he would never hurt you and instead disappeared.

that was a few days ago, mr. scarletella continued to stalk you from afar as usual though he stopped using the telephone to call, halting his usual random appearances.

mr. scarletella roamed the halls in one of the rare moments which wasn’t spent stalking. unbeknownst to you, he was upset. he didn’t know he was hurting from rejection, he just knew that this painful feeling burning in his chest was foreign and unpleasant. it felt worse knowing the reason behind it stemmed from the human that he was so drawn towards.

he stumbled aimlessly into the room with bits of concrete on the ground caused from earthquakes which moved rooms around. he scanned the ruins, spotting things that were thrown from the world of humans. magazines, dirty shoes, broken cellphones... etc.

the only thing that wasn’t broken or covered in dust was something in a clear ziplock bag, mr. scarletella reached down to pick it up. it looked like a white paper bird..? an origami bird. white reminded him of you.

“ pretty doll... me give pretty human. “

he mumbled, ripping apart the ziplock bag and gently placing the delicate craft on his palm. it was fragile, swaying left and right as he walked, but it was something he needed to protect for you. he had never been so gentle with something before, even slowing his steps just to keep it from toppling, too afraid to touch it in case he ripped it.

luck was on his side, he found you alone without your crawling companion, being separated from him after one of your adventures.

mr. scarletella smiled but he hesitated to show himself to you. this was new. he doubted himself. the aching feeling in his heart returned when he remembered his previous interaction with you. would you reject him again…? did you really dislike him that much..?

“ human. “

he called out, softly. his voice trailing off to a whisper at the end.

he watched you whip around, the same glare in your eyes. though you noticed he was slightly different. his head was tilted down, he wasn’t standing straight, his shoulders were slightly hunched in an attempt to make himself look smaller in front of you.

slowly, he held his arm out, the white origami bird was directly in front of your face.

“ me find, me bring doll you. doll pretty, human pretty. “

they probably didn’t have a word for origami or paper or birds in their language, doll was probably the closest thing to that.

his smile returned when you cautiously reached out to take the gift, watching as you inspected it. the corners of his lips widening when your eyes softened, the tension surrounding you both slowly dissipating but still lingered.

“ you like ? “

your head snapped up towards him.

“ …like, thank you. “

mr. scarletella leaned down, lining his eyes up with yours. his hand reached out once again, hovering just above your hair.

before he could touch you, you stepped aside. clutching the crowbar in your other hand, which he noticed and acknowledged as a warning.

“ can pet ? “

mr. scarletella asked.

you hesitated, well… he did go out of his way to get you this origami bird. plus, as much as you hated to admit it, you did think about him during that period where he left you alone albeit in a negative way.

“ pet one. “

his palm came into contact with your hair, up and down, lingering there for a second before pulling away.

a noise came from the corner of hallway, making you whip around, just to see mr. crawling pop out. he rushed over, blabbering on how worried he was and asking if you were hurt.

you turned around but mr. scarletella was gone.

“ doll pretty ! “

mr. crawling pointed out, looking at the white origami bird on your palm.

“ where find ? “

“…someone give me. “

mr. scarletella watched from afar, smiling to himself, he made a mental note to give you more gifts in the future.

> maybe he’s slightly ooc.

© @kastighur

[dark-raven-666]

about your homicipher x reader post... could you maybe make one about Mr. Crawling x reader going on dates? tenkyewww

-ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊

Mr Crawling x reader, extreme fluff, tiny bit of angst?

Warnings: nudity but not nsfw

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

After walking a long distance from your base in the ghostly realm you find a waterfall. Where did it come from?

Vaguely you didn't care as this was one of the rare chances that it appeared.

Looking back at Mr Crawling you see the greasy hair and walk to him..

"Shower? Hair. Pretty. Clean" you said to him, hoping it would give some sort of explanation..

He nods happily and waits for you, you both strip to the nude and walk under the waterfall. The water is cold and refreshing, like fresh cold sheets or the other side of the pillow at night.

How you had taken water for granted when you had it..

Looking around there are big rocks, or cemenet, you can't tell, but in your happy state you sit on one, your feet in the water and daydream, that you were on mountains, that you were back in the human world. That if you look back, you will see forests, trees and animals, perhaps a deer.

Your eyes snap open and your mind is brought back when you hear Mr crawling whine as he falls in the water..

Getting up you walk to him, open his kimono and take him with you under the water. You introduce him to it and after a while he laughs his usual laugh clearly happy now.

How you loved that laugh. You try to wash your hair with the bar of soap that you had in your bag and all you got was odd stares from Mr crawling... Right, this was from your bag, from the human world, he didn't know what soap was.

Grabbing some of the bubbles you blow them at him and smile. Hoping to lighten him up.

He looks hesitant at first but then also begins making bubbles with you and blowing the.

Time passes of you two playing and now you're tired. He sits in the water as your hands brush through his locks of long obsidian hair. You imagine his eyes are closed under that hair, if he has any at all.

You massage his scalp and he yawns..

You've never seen him yawn before, but seems the massage is really getting him sleepy.

You rinse him off, dry the two of you and get dressed. You had two clothing options, your old clothes or the new dress you got from the headless bride...

You take the dress after all it was not a heavy one and you wanted to be clean. Me Crawling however had no issue slipping back I'm his old kimono.

Walking away from the waterfall with him close behind you, you think maybe this world isn't as bad as you thought. Maybe this was your very own version of the mountains and instead of deer you had the love of your life.

[amourluvie]

◟✿" you.. comeback right..? " Mr crawling x reader . . .ᐟᅟ

Synopsis . . .ᐟ you decided to leave the other world,and aswell as mr crawling.

notes . . .ᐟ I am killing myself after writing this googbye cruel world

character . . .ᐟ mr crawling from homicipher

Suffocating- that's what it felt being trapped in this world,full of monsters and danger.

You were tired of running,room after room trying to find a escape to go back to your reality and finish this neverending nightmare.

Atleast there was someone that protected and cared about you - mr crawling was his name. Or the name you had given him.

He was different from the others,he was like a shield that would protect you no matter what.

Gave you headpats and reassured you when you needed it.

Was there for you when nobody could do it.

right now,he isn't here anymore- and your suffering from getting hurt by Mr bigface.

But that didn't stop you from running as fast you could,no matter how tired your limbs were.

As you stopped to catch your in some eerie hallway,you hear a familiar giggle coming up behind you.

It was him! It was mr crawling!

You quickly turned around to face him,feeling happy again now that you had finally found eachother.

A smile appeared on his face- an hauntingly beautiful one.

"you back!!" He shouted at you,if his long hair didn't cover up his eyes,they definitely would have glint up with love and affection.

As he immediately crawled closer to you,and you sit down to take some rest and make up for the time when you weren't with him.

He started to gently pet your head,as you leaned into his strangely comforting touch,head resting on his chest.

You then realised that it's time to get up since you have rested enough and have enough energy to find a exit again.

As you get up mr crawling looks at you curiously, as you replied "I need to go..." Your voice barely an whisper,as you start to walk away,him following you from behind just like he first did when you guys first met.

Hallway after hallway,you finally find something that appeared to be a elevator- you wondered if it could sent you back to the real world.

You glanced at mr crawling-he returned your gaze back,eyeing your every movement.

should I really go? You thought.

Then you decided to leave for good. The longer you stay here,the longer you slowly began to not feel human anymore

Pressing the buttons on the elevator,as it opens quickly to your suprise since you thought it was broken.

You take a deep breath and sighed. And then looked over to mr crawling for the last time,guilt washing over you as you try to hold back tears.

Mr crawling just stares at you in confusion,wondering why you look sad.

It hurted even more after seeing him being not aware your leaving him forever.

You slowly step into the elevator,gaze still stuck on mr crawling as the elevator closes.

You were his everything. But mr crawling will wait for you even it takes forever,he will forever love you and cherish you for eternity.

[purple-plum-petals]

Hi! Is it okay if I ask for another homicipher fic? I just got all the endings, and I'm obsessed. What about Scarletta trying to be physically affectionate with MC after seeing how protective Mr. Crawling is with them (perhaps even secretly peeking/knowing how often the crawling man hugged you, you two petting or shaking each other's heads, and using the word "cute" on each other.) I need Scarletta jealous 🫣

⊱ Blood-stained Lips ⊰ || Mr. Scarletella X Reader

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮

Character(s): Mr. Scarletella (Homicipher/文字化化) Reader Type: Human (Gender-Neutral Pronouns) Warning(s): Spoilers for Homicipher (MC’s Lore and Specifically Scarletella Rain Ending), Canon-typical Mentions of Violence (and Horror Elements), Mild Jealousy, Slightly Suggestive. Anything spoken in the other world’s language will be bolded. Genre: Drabble, Light Angst (Hurt/Comfort), Pre-established Romantic Relationship (It’s Complicated, honestly). Word Count: ~2,140 words Request: “Hi! Is it okay if I ask for another homicipher fic? I just got all the endings, and I'm obsessed. What about Scarletta trying to be physically affectionate with MC after seeing how protective Mr. Crawling is with them (perhaps even secretly peeking/knowing how often the crawling man hugged you, you two petting or shaking each other's heads, and using the word "cute" on each other.) I need Scarletta jealous 🫣” Author’s Note: Okay so, like… Mr. Scarletella is probably one of the more nerve-wracking characters for me to write for, but I absolutely adored this ask, so I gave writing him in drabble format a shot! (It’s also pretty funny how the fandom has unanimously agreed that Mr. Crawling and Mr. Scarletella would not get along and would be actively antagonistic toward each other lmao). I think his dynamic with the MC is fascinating… the whole parasocial relationship the two of them have going on throughout the game is such a unique choice (love the simp energy he gives off, too, since I wasn’t expecting that from his character haha). This ended up being kind of suggestive at the end?? Nothing too crazy or anything, just him being very happy about being able to touch you. Anyway, I hope this isn’t too OOC – enjoy! 

→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated!  ♡

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

Even though his memories had been forgotten, parts of himself and his identity erased after you successfully defeated him, Mr. Scarletella occasionally found himself thinking of moments he couldn’t even recall witnessing. 

In his mind, he sees you with another resident of the realm, their long black hair cascading down their form while their laugh echoes through an empty corridor. He sees their fingers threading through your hair, moving their hands up and down along your scalp, and tousling your locks… 

Mr. Scarletella hears your laughter fill the space, too. The sound is light and airy, and he finds his chest tightening at the hazy memory. It’s an uncomfortable feeling and certainly was not one he enjoyed experiencing. It almost felt like knives being shoved repeatedly into his torso, a stinging and aching sensation that spread throughout his entire body from a singular point.

Almost absentmindedly, his hand comes to rest on the left side of his chest, the side where a heart would be located if he possessed one like you did. Mr. Scarletella hears a gentle murmur interrupt his thoughts, a noise that cuts through the fog in his mind like a saw slicing through flesh and sinew. 

“You okay?” Your voice echoes, and his pitch-black eyes dart down to meet with yours. You’re holding a red umbrella – his very heart and soul – in your hands. Your hold isn’t painful, nor is it gentle. It was perfect, just like you, he thought to himself. 

Rain drips down the water-resistant material of the umbrella that was permanently stained a bright, bloody red, and it falls onto the clear rubber of your raincoat before sliding down your form. Both the umbrella and your coat effectively keep your body dry from the elements. Mr. Scarletella, on the other hand, was completely soaked, having no issue walking beside you while the rain clung to his clothing and chilled his skin.  

If he concentrated hard enough, he could feel the heat of your body spreading throughout his chest and warming his form from the inside out. Oh, how happy he would be if the small flame within him sparked into something more, forming a fiery inferno inside his body. Even if you were to burn him, set an uncontrollable blaze within him that only left an empty husk behind, he would be content.  

Your brows are furrowed while you crane your neck back to look at him, the sound of rain around the two of you, effectively breaking up the long stretch of silence. He was acting a bit strange today, you thought to yourself. While the man dressed in red was never really normal in the conventional sense, he was much more quiet today than usual. 

Mr. Scarletella’s gaze used to be immensely nervewracking, his hollow stare once being able to cause the hair on the back of your neck to stand on edge, but you had grown used to it after spending so much time together. The two of you were in your old realm, the one you left behind to stay in the other world. You were fairly close to the haunted apartments he used to call his home and the site where you would dump the bodies of anyone unfortunate to cross your path… The start of everything that led you to where you are now. 

“You quiet… What you thinking about?” You ask him, shifting the hold of the umbrella in your hand to the other. You hadn’t brought your weapon today, wanting to give Mr. Scarletella a chance to experience a “typical” date, one that didn’t consist of violence and murder for a change. However, he had been in a daze since the two of you arrived, and that was somewhat out of character for him. 

Shifting your stance to better face him, your feet sink slightly into the mud beneath you. You look down at your boot-clad feet and frown. While you had grown used to being in a constant state of uncleanliness since the other world didn’t have showers readily or easily available, it was still quite annoying to clean mud from the soles of your shoes. This was the type of mud that threatened to pull your shoe from your foot if you were to try tugging on it, but you pushed your frustration to the side to focus on the man in front of you. 

Mr. Scarletella hums and reaches his hand out to your head, placing his palm against your hair, and you freeze. Your hair sticks to his deathly cold hand, almost as if static electricity was coursing through his fingers. 

It was soft under his skin, your hair, yet he could feel that some knots had begun to form near the base of the strands. Then, he begins to rub his hand back and forth, effectively messing your hair up even more. Your mind blanks at his sudden movement, the action reminding you of Mr. Crawling.

“Why… you touch me?” You ask, staring up at him as the rain begins to fall even harder, your grip on the umbrella in your hand tightening around the handle. The rain was so heavy that you could barely see into the distance, the horizon completely covered in a thick, gray mist. A sudden gust of wind blew Mr. Scarletella’s red hair, and within his usually hollow eyes swirled something you had never seen within them before. 

It reminded you of a storm rolling in across the ocean waves, a variety of emotions spiraling within his ashen irises. His hand never once leaves your body, instead sliding down the side of your head to cup your cheek in his palm. Whenever he touched you, it felt like TV static against your flesh, and you could see white-and-black dots begin to dance across your vision as a light hum filled your ears. 

Mr. Scarletella’s flesh is cold, and it reminds you of a corpse the chill his touch leaves in its wake. His head tilts to one side and he whispers to you, his voice barely audible above the rain crashing around you, “I want you – want to touch you.” 

Before you can even speak or formulate a response to his words, he quickly pulls his hand away from your skin. It felt like you had burnt him, yet he found himself not minding the stinging sensation that danced across his flesh. His hand dropped lifelessly to his side before he muttered an apologetic, “Sorry. Shouldn’t have touched you.”

After taking a moment to gather your thoughts, you shake your head and tell him, “...You okay,” before turning on your heel to walk away. You glance at him over your shoulder, his form becoming further soaked from the storm. It was kind of amusing, you thought, seeing such a previously powerful entity look like a stray, sopping-wet cat. 

Eventually, you gesture for him to come with one hand, the order of, “Follow me.” coming out of your lips, loud enough for him to hear.

He teleports to you before you can even finish your sentence, staring down at you with those unnerving eyes of his as he waits to see where you want to go. A huff of air forces its way out of your nose, chuckling at his obedience before you lightly graze his hand with your nails. It’s strange touching him, his form more like an illusion than a body made of flesh and blood. 

The two of you make your way across the waterlogged fields and flooded, muddy roads. Your footsteps splash in the puddles beneath you as you walk while Mr. Scarletella moves without making a single noise, merely a ghost in this world. Soon, however, the abandoned apartments come into view, and you lead him inside the old concrete structure. 

You pause as soon as your feet make contact with the cracked floor of the building, making sure that you can’t hear the sound of another living being within the hollow corridors. You close the umbrella when nothing catches your attention, making sure to shake it a few times to try and remove the raindrops that have accumulated on its surface. You watch as the water falls to the ground, making small, dark grey circles on the concrete. 

Looking over your shoulder, you watch as Mr. Scarletella watches you in return while holding the umbrella, waiting patiently for you to say something as a shiver runs down his spine. His hands that were hanging at his sides were closed, and he was clenching and unclenching his fingers almost like he was fighting the urge to place his palms against your skin once more.  

You can’t help but chuckle at his demeanor, placing the now-closed umbrella down so it was leaning against the wall. You do the same, leaning back on the wall before you hold your arms out to him, saying with a small smirk, “You can touch me.”

You jumped slightly at the speed at which he appeared in front of you. His body hunched over yours while he watched your expression intently, his black eyes partially hidden behind the thick curtain of red hair that cast shadows across his sickly complexion. Mr. Scarletella places his palm on your head, telling you smoothly, “Thank you.”

One of his hands begins to tentatively pat your skull while he enjoys the feeling of your hair against his palm. Then, his other hand soon joins, and you close your eyes while you allow him to pat you like a dog. It felt a bit demeaning in a way, but also strangely comforting, and it reminded you of one of the friendliest residents of the other world you had met. 

Your eyes flutter shut almost out of habit, allowing the man in front of you to enjoy the rare moment with you. His hands started out resting against the top and sides of your head, the movement of palms against your hair causing it to become messy and sticking up because of the static he created. 

Then, they tentatively travel to your face, cupping your cheeks before he brushes his thumbs underneath your eyes. You jolt a bit when his cold hand brushes against your neck, swallowing harshly when you feel him trace a finger down your SCM. Your breathing hitches while he explores your skin, and your teeth dig harshly into your bottom lip in response. 

Then, you feel his touch pause, and Mr. Scarletella whispers against your neck, the pad of his thumb swiping against your lips, “...blood.” 

“Oh, uh…” You open your eyes and look at him, seeing the way he’s staring up at you while his face remains close to your jugular. Your hand goes up to your lips, and you wince when you feel the soreness. When you pull your fingers away from your mouth, you see the blood that clings to them. Geez, you didn’t think you had bit your lip that hard. 

You tell Mr. Scarletella, patting his head much like how he had been doing with you, “I’m okay. Don’t stop.”

He smiles widely and lights up at your words. Suddenly, he grabs your face and hastily presses his lips to yours. Your eyes grow at the sudden act, and a strangled noise leaves your throat. It wasn’t a bad noise, per se, you just hadn’t been expecting that from him. Typically, he waited until you permitted him to do that... He must have been too excited to hold back this time around.

You were speechless when he pulled away from you, noticing your blood that was now smeared across his lips. He licks it away, his tongue peeking out from behind his lips before he asks you, “...You happy?”

You can’t help but laugh at his question, reaching up to place your hand on his head while your giggles echo throughout the empty hallways, patting him softly. Mr. Scarletella’s smile falters while he focuses on the feeling of your touch, on burning the memory of your expression and the sweet sound of your laughter into his mind. It made him feel strange knowing he was the one making you react in such a way, but it was good.

He wanted to do it more. 

“Yes, I happy. You cute.” You reply, smiling warmly at him while he stares at you like you’re the most beautiful thing in the world. 

“I like you.” He says, sounding almost breathless as his body hunches over more, his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck while his hands explore the rest of your body, stroking and touching and petting you. Mr. Scarletella didn’t want this moment to end. 

You chuckle as his breath fans against your skin, telling him gently as you feel his fingers work out any knots in your hair, “I know.” 

“I like you, I like you, I like you…” He murmurs against your flesh, “I love you.”

[puppeat123]

Homicipher

Mr Scarletella x GN reader

Wrong locker!

Trigger warning: Homework, STUDYING crushing on Mr.crawling 😨‼️ MR DELULU, small amount of angst, starts one sided be trust it changes cause Mr delulu

Quick run down-

You transferred schools and made many friends among them was Mr crawling today you will confess to him! By leaving a confession letter in his locker . However you seem to have found yourself now being observed by a certain red haired someone.

Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~>>>>𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹<<<<~~~~~~~~~~~

You recently transferred to a new international school, Cipher University. It has been wonderful so far.

You went to orientation week, and you found lots of cool people there! Some of them you kept in contact with throughout the whole school year; others, not so much. Amongst the many people that you spent time with was a tall guy; he is a tall, pale guy with beautiful long black hair, and he is a little blind, always misplacing his glasses on the floor or dropping them. He was so kind to everyone and helped people who were confused on their first day.

You fell for him so quickly; I mean, who wouldn't!

His nickname was Crawling because he was always on the floor looking for where he put his glasses. You hung out with him very often after school. He would study with you and buy something to eat and chat during the study session. More chatting than studying was happening, though.

Over time your feelings for him grew, so much so that you felt today was the day you would leave him a confession letter in his locker. You made sure to plan out everything so there was no way he would see you putting the letter into his locker.

You remember asking him his schedule a while ago so that both of you could hang out and study.

You felt nervous and excited all at the same time!

You are hoping he feels some sort of way about it, and hopefully he says something about it or a response to it. You poured out your heart to him in that letter!

————————————————————-

You walked into the school building at the main entrance, where everyone had their lockers; meanwhile, his class was on the opposite side of the building. This made it perfect timing to slip a letter in his locker. You waved bye to him as you saw him walking away to the other side and going up the stairs. Once you saw him gone, you quickly rummaged through your bag and found the neatly folded letter sealed with the usual heart-shaped seal. His locker was 01010; you remember watching him put his stuff there last year before break, so that should be his same locker. You quickly slide the envelope in the small opening of the locker. Hopefully he feels the same way about you too! You quickly turned and started walking towards your class. You passed a student who you almost bumped into on your way there. What was he doing out of class? All the classes start around the same time! Whatever, though, Ms. Blue would be upset at you not being in class 5 minutes before it started.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

He forgot his textbook for Mr. Hood's English in his locker. There were still 5 minutes before the class started, so Mr. Hood let him get his book really quickly since his class was 3 doors away from the locker area. He quickly opened his locker and saw a beautiful white one with a cute red heart seal in it.

He took the letter and his textbook before closing back his locker. He quickly hid the cool letter in his pocket before rushing back to class.

Today's lecture was over the topic of the book and a refresher over the syllabus and who has signed it and who hasn't.

While he goes over all that useless stuff, it is time to see what the letter in his locker says.

———————

Dear love

I remember the day we met. You stole my heart, and made it skip twice. You have been the highlight of my life. When I sleep, I dream of you, when I study, we study together, when your heart beats, mine beats with yours. We have been friends for some time now; not one day has gone by without me thinking of you. I think of you, and the biggest smile comes across my face, I feel warm all over and my heart still skips a beat for you whether we're on the phone or just being in the same room. Sweetheart, just looking into your eyes still makes me feel like the first day we met. I have the same dream we both want, and that's to fall in love with our bestfriend. I fell for you so long ago. Do you feel the same way about me?

Love always,

Yours sincerely your secret admirer.

——————-

Warmth crept slowly onto his deadly pale cheeks, almost turning the same shade of red as his hair.

He couldn't believe it. Who could it be? It only made sense that it was the other student he almost bumped into when getting his textbook.

There was no one else by the lockers. The note was still pretty cool to the touch when he took it from his locker. They ran into room F0100. The other student did look pretty cute. They looked pretty flustered with them almost bumping into him. They liked him so much that they wrote him a beautiful letter so cute!

But what were they like? He doesn't interact with many people outside of school; when he did, many didn't want to interact or kept it short. So this was news to him!

He must know more about them. If they knew him and liked him enough to confess, then he must learn about them as soon as possible to give a proper answer. He couldn't keep them waiting after all the effort and time they put into writing the letter and placing it into his locker. On top of that, they didn't even write their name in the letter; they must be so shy!

He will make sure to get your name!

After all, you really liked him, and he was more than willing to do anything it takes to help you out of your shell.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

You waited patiently for Crawling to say something about the letter he found in his locker.

You decided to try and ask him or press a little about it.

"Hey, how were classes today?"

"It was okay! I found so much paper in my locker today!"

Is he going to talk about the letter? It was close to the Japanese equivalent of Valentine's Day for them. So could he have more admirers?? Why did he say he had so many papers in his locker?

"I got a new locker because I needed something closer to my classes, and man, that thing was not cleaned out!"

"Oh, you got a new locker?"

Panic slowly settled in you. If he changed lockers.

Whose locker did you slip your confession into?

Hopefully it was a random nobody. This was an international school after all, so who knows how someone might take it? Hopefully it wasn't anyone crazy or weird.

Right..?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~>>>>𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹<<<<~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hello!

Thank you so much for reading I hope yall enjoy. I’m working on the next part of this I want to make a mini series cause I can’t keep it together sometimes!

[manmadejoyswithinmycomprehension]

Introducing...

The Homicipher Advent Calendar!

December 13th: Bride platonic and romantic hc's (requested) DONE

December 15th: Mr. Crawling x fem!reader smut (requested)

December 17th: Mr. Machete SFW/NSFW hc's (requested)

December 19th: Bottom!Mr. Crawling x m!reader

December 21st: Mr. Crawling angst

December 23rd: Mr. Silvair and Mr. Chopped x neutral!reader

December 25th: Christmas in the ghost apartments!