#mr silvair fanfic

[lilacxquartz]

in an attempt to teach you;

mr. silvair x f!reader

plot: mr. silvair who found you to be an intellectual curiosity, took it upon himself in teaching you anatomy — themes: heavily suggestive, limited dialogue, mutual pining, everything is consensual here but he’s unsettling lol — a/n: this will be continued in january :) — w.c: 1.6k

ao3 • masterlist • part 2 >

(header by @devotion-disorder, used with permission which inspired the fic :) pls go check out their blog <3)

The ghost apartments were far from being the safest places that you could have ended up in, but it was still early on in your exploration, too. Many uncertainties popped up along the way and ultimately, you somehow found your way back in Mr. Silvair’s care each and every single time.

Your latest ailment left your stomach in pain though, following a particularly nasty tumble in the dark. Thankfully though, Mr. Silvair was quite good at mending you, or at least in giving you a place to recover at your own pace, however, what with how you seemed to be in more distress than usual, his curiosity piqued in a different way this time.

As you curled up on the sofa, you gasped at his sudden arrival, your body flinching ever so slightly at the looming sight. Mr. Silvair then pressed up his calloused palm right against your abdomen without warning (likely to inspect it) but then in doing so, you reacted negatively to the sudden intrusion and as a result, ended up pulling away.

At first, Mr. Silvair simply just looked down at you, his thoughts unclear, and after a long enough silence had passed between the two of you, he finally tilted his head off to the side, seeming almost… confused? He tried again, asking for a word that you didn’t yet understand, maintaining some distance per your quiet request (or at least for now).

“…####?”

You blinked, your face blanking in confusion.

Mr. Silvair, ever determined to pursue any sort of curiosity didn’t waver in his conveyed approach, immediately reaching to pinch at your soft skin and when you reacted negatively—he repeated the word. He did the same to his own flesh—his nose wrinkling up when he did so as if he didn’t like the sensation—repeating the term again and again in that same quizzical tone.

Finally, you got it. He was asking if you were hurting.

“Pain?” he asked once more, the word registering at last.

You slowly nodded, thinking that he would perhaps take a step back and leave you be, but he stayed right where he was. Warily, your gaze followed his curious hands over to your stomach, asking yet even more words that you couldn’t yet comprehend.

What with the language barrier being ever frustrating, Mr. Silvair’s lips curled into a frown due to the lack of understanding alone, but ultimately, his determination didn’t falter, now seeming more motivated than ever before.

“Me,” he pointed at himself, gesturing out words that you already did know, “teach,” he added, his fingers travelling in your direction, “you,” before returning them to settle at his lips, “language?”

You nodded.

“Me, teach you…” Mr. Silvair repeated quicker that time, although allowing his words to trail off as he considered the right approach, gesturing at your general form, “…####?”

The way that he repeated the mystery word over and over left you wondering if he was asking about your general anatomy, with your suspicions were made clear when he repeated the same actions towards his own body—proving that it was just as you had initially thought.

“My… body?” you repeated, swirling a pointed finger around your physique, interpreting that perhaps, he wanted to teach you more words that related to it. Perhaps, his intentions were genuine, since you were actively in pain and maybe, just maybe, he wanted to help you recover. Still though, you held onto some retained suspicion, knowing that Mr. Silvair’s curiosity could either be a good thing or… it could be something else entirely.

Continuing onwards, Mr. Silvair carried on before any of those negative thoughts in your mind had a chance to linger. The last thing he wanted was for you to negatively react to his presence, especially so early on and so, with a flick of his wrist, he pointed towards your head, repeating a set of familiar words as his exploration gradually traveled down your body.

“Eyes? Nose? Lips?” he asked, making sure to ask words that you already knew before tracing a light touch along your neck, the sensation feeling almost tender. “...####?”

“My… neck?” you gulped, feeling your throat swallow beneath his firmly appointed digits that remained pressed against your vulnerable skin. It wasn’t exactly painful, but the pressure was tight enough to make you feel nervous.

“####?” he asked again, smoothing out a brushing touch along your shoulders, feeling a flicker of satisfaction when you understood him the way that he wanted you to.

At this point on, you were beginning to feel almost nervous as his hands kept traveling down, but also… curious. The way his fingers pinched and tugged at what you wore though, was a clear indication that he didn’t like what you had on (perhaps finding it to be an obstacle of some sort) and so you found yourself giving into his silent request. As though to play it as safely as possible, you removed the raincoat you wore, revealing your dress-clad form just beneath—the fabric slightly frayed.

Mr. Silvair’s gaze lingered somewhat, almost clinically, before moving on and repeating a few more familiar words as he swept his touch across what you both already understood between one another. He then lifted his hands ever so slightly, peppering a feather-light dab of his fingertips before tracing a line down your collarbones, feeding you an understanding of that word, before running the pad down to where your cleavage began.

Feeling your breath hitch, you weren’t sure how to respond. Usually, if a man was so brazenly forward with you—you would try to push them away, perhaps even scold them if need be—and yet, you didn’t actually dislike this development (and maybe even enjoyed it). Indeed, there was something… particular… about Mr. Silvair that left you feeling a certain way. Perhaps it was unease, but it was also something different—something intimate.

And then all of a sudden, he leaned in close, allowing for your form to be swallowed up by his looming presence. It seemed that this was technically a process that he built up to, but you were otherwise too overwhelmed and lost in your own thoughts to have ever noticed the progression. Tensing up right away, your breath hitched as he moved in closer, anticipating something—anything—you weren’t quite sure what, to finally happen.

Mr. Silvair’s execution was painstakingly slow as if reading into your body language before finalising his next move. For a moment, you weren’t at all sure what to expect, but then you felt a cold bead of something trickle down your spine as his hands fumbled with something just out of reach, leading you to understand that he dropped the zipper to your dress.

Had you not been in such a stunned silence, you would have done more to cover up your now exposed form—but you didn’t.

You simply sat still and Mr. Silvair simply just… watched, as if assessing his next move.

Taking a moment to appreciate your form, Mr. Silvair broke through the tension by approaching you, helping you shuffle out of the restrictive fabric, reading into the situation, and making sure, that you were at the very least, not opposed in the direction that this whole interaction was headed in. Forcing yourself to remain calm, you didn’t turn him away either as his hands smoothed over your bare breasts next, informing you of yet another word, and when his fingers tweezed around the stiff peaks of your nipples, another word slipped out.

Mr. Silvair then continued along this route, using your accepting silence to move lower and lower, until finally, his touch met at your stomach. He paused momentarily, noticing a deep, slightly raised bruise and for a second, a wave of concern passed through him—causing him to pause in his tracks before continuing onwards as soon as he determined it was okay to do so—wanting for the new-found intimacy between the two of you to last.

You didn’t stop him all the while—not even as his fingertips dipped lower and lower—not even as they pushed into the apex of your inner thighs. No, there was something tender about this shared moment that left you craving more of it.

And feeling as his fingers moved along and stroked along your heated sex, you couldn’t help but reactively curl your fingers into tight fists, almost straining at the implication. Your face quickly grew flushed, squeezing your legs tight much to his confusion, causing him to withdraw ever so slightly.

Mr. Silvair paused, the concern returning. “...Pain?”

However, you shook your head.

“Sad? Happy?” he continued, cycling through a whole range of emotions, trying to determine what was wrong—if anything was wrong at all.

“H-Happy,” you repeated which he seemed to understand, widening his smile as a result.

Mr. Silvair then continued on with confidence, taking hold of your hand that time around, watching as you grew all the more embarrassed from the way he pulled you closer—guiding your hand towards him in a similar way—allowing you to touch where his—his—oh!

Your eyes grew wide as he settled your touch over his length, which was initially soft, watching—feeling with you—as he quickly grew hard.

Mr. Silvair paused, his face adopting a reddish hue as he seemed to finally understand what you meant by feeling ‘happy’, his mind racing with all sorts of new ideas and curiosities alike. However, he stopped himself, choosing to at least conclude the examination, teaching you how to next address your thighs, knees and feet next, before returning to the initial issue at hand—the pain.

And once it was settled—once you were fixed, then perhaps he could explore something different with you next time.

(Something that could make you both feel ‘happy’?)

[bloodblanks]

do homicipher characters experience arousal?

i want to preface this by saying that i am not in any way, shape, or form criticizing other homicipher writers and/or their headcanons. i absolutely adore the work i’ve seen from everyone and am grateful to be able to read it! this is simply my personal thoughts on this topic so i hope it doesn’t come across like i’m trying to demean anyone else’s work.

additional note: i write reader insert so i will be referring to us as the reader rather than mc, but my post should work for both interpretations ^^

this is something i’ve been thinking about a lot since i’m working on some nsfw homicipher headcanons myself. from what i’ve read, a lot of homicipher work headcanon the characters as not really experiencing and/or knowing what arousal is, at least until they meet the reader (which is extremely endearing and flattering, i love the concept, and there’s nothing wrong with it!) but i personally came to the conclusion that homicipher characters do experience arousal, and have experienced it before meeting the reader. however, i believe their perception of arousal differs from ours.

to start, the reason i think they experience arousal to begin with, is because arousal isn’t just an emotional or mental response, but also a physiological function. similar to other physical needs (ie: food, sleep, water)—which i think they also require though that’s for another post—arousal doesn’t necessarily require conscious thought or emotional processes. arousal can be merely a response to touch or certain sensory inputs, something that happens regardless of how we think or feel.

while i think arousal is a natural function for them, i don’t believe they are likely to have had sex with other homicipher characters. the reason for that is also why i say they experience arousal differently—they don’t understand attraction. this is based on both my personal bias of wanting them to ourselves, but also the in game interactions with mr. hood and mr. silvair, where they fail to grasp the concept of ‘liking’ an individual.

since they don’t experience attraction (yet!), i imagine their perception of arousal would be a mechanical or instinctual one; just something their bodies respond to. much like thoughtlessly scratching an itch, they likely address it more as a physical need to take care of, rather than associating it with any deeper desires or having it directed/related to another person.

my silly little reader insert loving self does insist that they feel some sort of attraction towards us, though, which i believe will be a newfound feeling for them that can change how they experience arousal. with them able to feel attraction towards us, their once neutral and unassuming need can become something more intimate, romantic, or even obsessive depending on the character.

tl;dr homicipher characters have always experienced arousal but only as a bodily function, as they don’t understand attraction until meeting and developing interest in the reader, which changes their perception of arousal to something more complex and intimate.

thank you everyone for reading my silly little shower thoughts. i hope this was coherent enough and made sense! (>^ω^<)

feel free to leave any of your thoughts below if you have any comments on this! and feel free to argue with me if you think i’m yapping nonsense... (･･;)

[c4kesuz]

I'm seriously struggling if I should make a fanfic about them (THEY'RE SO HOT HELLO??? PLS GIVE ME SOME IDEAS)

[arenabreadandbiscuits]

Just discovered Homicipher.

I'm obsessed dammit.

Adding the fandom to the commission and ask box because of course I'm hyper fixated now..

[hollyburd]

- "позволь мне изучить тебя, человек~"

И так мои любимые!

трубите в трубы и стучите в барабаны, ахаха)) я наконец сделала этот арт, (наверное он самый любимый для меня из этого цикла ахах)

Я решила скинуть сюда.. 2 версии, с цензурой и без, чтобы великий тамблер меня не отшлепал👉👈👀

И господи, спасибо вам всем и каждому за активности в моем ��ккаунте! Вы делаете меня счастливее🖤

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

- "let me study you, human~"

And so are my favorites!

blow the trumpets and bang the drums, ahaha)) I finally made this art, (it's probably the most favorite for me from this cycle ahah)

I decided to drop it here.. 2 versions, with and without censorship, so that the great tumbler doesn't spank me

👉👈👀

And God, thank you all and everyone for the activity in my account! You make me happier🖤

🔥♥️🧨версия без цензуры здесь!/The uncensored version is here️🧨♥️🔥

[rin-hayata]

Homicipher chatfic

For @soupyevilincarnate

Do not take it srs. Lmao

[puppeat123]

Homicipher

Mr.Scarletella x GN reader

Wrong locker

Part 4

Warning Mention of: Slightly suggestive content! It’s implied not outright stated, Stalking, drinking alcohol, creepy behavior

Recap from the last chapter - You both resided on different sides of the city. It's pouring too much. You made the decision to thug it out. White Day was just around the corner. “You are not okay. Do you want help?” What else is absent from your home? Before you departed, did you leave your sweater there? You were accomplishing a lot before you went, who knew! What else may disappear? Did your carpet have that red thread? You don't have many red outfits besides two shirts and perhaps a pair of shoes or two bottoms. You sense that something is wrong, but you're not sure what it is—perhaps it's simply been a hectic week! Perhaps you also failed to notice the piercing crimson eyes that were looking at you through your somewhat cracked open window.

Italic text = flashback

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

What else may disappear? Did your carpet have that red thread? You don't have many red outfits besides two shirts and perhaps a pair of shoes or two bottoms. You sense that something is wrong, but you're not sure what it is—perhaps it's simply been a hectic week! Perhaps you also failed to notice the piercing crimson eyes that were looking at you through your somewhat cracked open window.

Following your every move with such intent and wonder.

His red eyes looked almost black due to the way his pupils expanded at just the sight of you. A warm tingle went from his head down through his spine. Making every fiber of his being yearn to get closer. Although it was a simple and messy home outfit in his eyes, you couldn't look any better.

The smell of you lingering on your recently thrown-away clothes, especially in your undergarments. mixed with your scent and watching you move around and do everyday tasks, deepening the pit of desire from his entire body. His wants winning the best of him, taking him slowly, pulling him into an almost religious experience, allowing himself to bask not only upon your scent but simply watching you.

His breath grew unsteady with each passing minute.

You are his muse.

The apple of his eye.

You're a Bendel bonnet, a Shakespeare sonnet.

He gasped for air as if it was his first time breathing, holding your clothes over his face, not allowing any sound to escape him. He wants nothing more than for you to occupy his mind in such a high. His head spins in a fuzzy haze, mind, and body wanting nothing more than his very reason for breathing.

You.

Me desire you.

You like me. Me l̴̺̿i̵̞͆́k̷̪͂̐e̸̘̿̌ you.

Ẉ̷̭͑̚ȇ̴͓ ̵͈̲̆̆g̵̦̃͛͜o̶̤͘ ̴̗̟̆̏t̴̛͙͍̋õ̶̠̂g̴̭̘̉͒e̸͓͝͠ţ̴̮͂̔h̶̝̥̀e̵͕̓͑r̵͚̝̂.̶̗̰̄͝ ̷̡̫͌̓

..

.

.

You jam out to your favorite songs while getting your home together. Although yes, the apartment was old, and a lot of the stuff was broken, like the cooling system, it is still a home.

White Day was so close around the corner now, 3 days left.

What will you do if Mr. Crawling does confess? You love him so much, but he was your friend, nothing more, as the men in red stated.

Although the man in red himself wasn't too bad. He was tall, with dark, pretty, tired eyes, and very kind even after the way you treated him after the incident with Mr. Crawling by the lockers during the weekday. He got you your favorite drink as well. His hair framed his face nicely enough to see at least one eye at all times. He seemed to be smart as well, being in the student council team helping organize events and school trips.

He had pretty broad shoulders as well. He seemed to be well-built under his shirt and jacket.

The silent type can be so hot and mysterious!

Now you're stuck, what if they both like you?? What will be your response? You are just a normal person so that might not happen.

You took some time to also stretch mobility is important you know! Makes it easier to get comfy to in a weird position while going to sleep.

Today was a productive enough day, but what would make it better would be getting some takeout, maybe some pizza, Chinese food, or Olive Garden.

Chinese food was the closest to the apartment, as was the lady, who was always so sweet, plus she had a lot of things besides food. It was like a mini gas station.

You put on some pants and slip on a hoodie and jacket to stay warm from the cold rain. Some lip balm so your lips don’t get chapped from the cold weather.

You make sure to have your phone in your pocket, house keys, and wallet.

You quickly walk to the store. At the store, you bump into none other than the red man. Mr. Scarletella.

"Oh hey, I didn't know you came here."

You stated you are now getting a bit more comfortable with starting a conversation with the man. He seemed to be caught off guard by your presence at the small store.

"Hello Y/N, yes, I like to come here often to do more grocery shopping from time to time. What about you? What did you come to buy?"

You were basically standing in front of him with how small the shop was. You walked up to the counter near the menu.

"I'm just here for some takeout. It's been a long day, but I'm pretty happy, but what about you? What did you come here today for?"

How your eyes shined and how nice you looked made his heart flutter. He must stay composed.

"I am here to grab a couple of items for my fridge."

Not true. You always here after teird day. Me want you.

“Would you like some drinks on me for the takeout?”

“That would be nice! If you want, we can share takeout at my place!”

He leaned in closer to you. 

“That would be nice.”

You paid for the food. He paid for the drinks while helping you carry the food on your way back home. 

He took off his coat and left it on the hooks near the living room. 

“I see you came well prepared this time around.”

“Yup.”

You said you were kind of embarrassed about the whole situation.

You troubled. Not hurt. You like me.

It felt like all his attention was on you and only you, nothing more. You could feel him gaze on you at all times. 

You entered your apartment happy that you cleaned it earlier. 

You grabbed some plates and started sharing the food with him while he placed the cold beverages on the table. 

"Here is your plate, and this is mine." You placed his plate on the table and sat down next to him. 

"Thanks again for the drinks; that was really sweet of you."

He smiled a bit. "It's all good! It's always nice to drink after a long day."

He held out his bottle of sake as if waiting for something. You clinked your beer against his drink before you both started drinking. 

You ended up watching some reality TV with him while eating. It made it easier to sit in silence or talk through each bite. Once you both finished up, you took your plate and were about to take his to the sink before he gently stopped you by holding your wrist. 

"It's okay, I got it. Just show me where the kitchen is."

"No, no, you're okay. You're a guest in my house; you're all good."

He shook his head.

"No, you already bought the food, which costs more than the drinks. Let me help you clean up."

You thought about it for a bit; if he really wanted to help, he could, plus he offered to do so, so that wouldn't make you a bad host. You let go of his plate and allow him to take it. 

"Alright, the sink is right there."

You point past him, and he turns his head, looking at where you are pointing. Once he sees the sink, he nods, grabbing your plate and utensils along with his and making his way to the sink.

You grab the empty bottles and throw them away in the trash. 

Mr. Scarlettela rolled up his black sleeves to his forearms before turning on the water and starting to wash the dishes. 

He was very kind, or could it be he was still trying to show he was a good person?

“..' I will show you.'

He walked away.

He has done a lot so far, even out of that context, though. He could have let you struggle in the rain after being so stupid and running away like that from Mr. Crawling. He helped, though, as well as the current interaction offering to clean the plates and buy drinks.

"So what do you do outside of school? Because I know you must be busy being a student council."

He finished up washing the dishes.

"I like to read in my spare time. How about yourself?"

He started drying off his hands on the cloth that was on the side of the sink. 

"That's cool; me too!" 

Once he was done, he turned around to you with his sleeves still rolled up. 

"That's awesome! What kind of books do you read?" 

You froze in place; you can't tell the truth!

"Um, I like fictional and fantasy books." 

"Oh wow, that's really nice, too. What are your favorite series?"

"I like Crave by Tracy Wolff, or Legends & Lattes by, I believe, Travis Baldree is pretty good."

You're pretty sure those books were tame; it has been a long while, so you really don't remember. 

"Ahh, a romance novel enjoyer, I see! I too enjoy them; I really like Legends & Lattes. I haven't read Crave, but I'll check it out sometime!" 

The way you want the earth to swallow you whole at the moment was too real. 

You cracked open another beer and quickly got to sipping, hoping he would stop asking questions. 

You were low-key getting a bit tipsy, but what did you expect chugging down that much beer??

“Oh man, it’s already nighttime? But you live here; will you be good going home?” 

“Yes, I will be okay! Before I go, could I perhaps use your restroom really quickly?”

“Yeah, it’s down that hall next to the room.”

“Alright, thank you!”

You walked to your living room and continued watching the K-drama on screen, waiting for him to finish up.

After a while you started to wonder if he was okay or if he fell down the toilet because he was taking a long time.

While that exact thought came to mind, you heard his voice from behind you.

“Pretty good show. What’s the name of it again?”

You quickly twisted your neck to him.

“I thought you were still in the bathroom.”

“No, I finished a while ago but got caught up in the show.”

So he was there the whole time in silence, watching the show??

“Anyways, It is getting quite late; I better start going home. Thank you so much for inviting me over!” 

You put your drink down and got up. 

“Yuh, not a problem; it’s all good. Make sure you have your things!”

You stated as you walked him to the door of your apartment. 

“I think I have everything I feel like I’m missing something, but I’m not sure what. I have my keys, my wallet, and my jacket. It’s fine; let me know if you find anything of mine here!”

You open the door wide for him to leave.

“Alright, well, it was nice having you over as well. You have a good night!”

He walked out the door waving bye to you.

“Good night!”

You waved back before closing the door.

You turned off your TV and made sure all the lights were off. 

You walked to your bathroom and brushed your teeth before heading to bed and sleeping off the slight drunk.

-~*•🌙✨•*’z

His hands trembled over the empty tin can.

Fingers grazing over the opening before pressing his lips against the opening where your lips once were, leaving leftover lip balm. 

The best part of it all was he was able to hold your wrist! 

Today has been a good day, his mind clouding once again; however, he wouldn’t let his ends loose. He needs to make sure he was the only person who you’d say yes to during White Day. 

It was now in 2 days.

2 days is a lot of work to do a lot of preparation—only the best for his darling.

….

Zzzzzzzz

..☀️☁️

You woke up to your alarm blaring today; it was another day of school. You were pretty excited about it because White Day is coming up, and who doesn’t love White Day! Just two more days!

You got up, took a shower, brushed your teeth, and gathered all your items for school before walking out of the house.

The school gave out free food, and you’re already paying a lot of money to attend that college, so you’re going to make sure to take advantage of that!

The food might be alright, but it is still where your money is going towards! 

You step out the door before you get pushed to the floor, knocking the air out of you.

You then feel someone also land on top of you almost immediately after. 

Your vision went a little dark, but you quickly caught your breath. It honestly felt like the Minecraft scene when you take damage. 

The day is just starting, and you're already dealing with bullshit. Come on now. 

“Oh my god!I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

Mr. Sacrletella. 

He quickly pulled himself off you and stood on his feet, reaching out a hand to help you up. You sat up slowly, low-key throwing him a dirty look.

“Are you okay?? I’m so sorry my alarm didn’t go off. I was supposed to have a meeting today!”

You reached out for his hand and took it. He pulled you up with ease. 

He looked at your head to make sure it was all okay. 

“I’m okay.”

“I’m sorry, here I can call us a ride to the school so we don’t both run late because of me.”

“Sounds like a fair offer.”

You both sat in silence waiting for the ride to arrive at the apartment. 

"So what time do your classes start?" 

"At around 10:30" 

"Oh, that's not bad at all!" 

"Yup."

Now you were going to miss the nasty food from the cafeteria that your money is paying for. 

"Did you eat breakfast yet?"

You shook your head, wanting to tell him you missed it because of this stupid bump in. 

His shoulders fell more, seeing almost as a look of defeat. 

"I'm really sorry. Let me buy you breakfast as an apology for everything."

"You don't have to do that, you know?" 

You were hoping he would insist because you were hungry and not trying to be greedy. 

"No, no, really, let me get you something to eat."

Always love some free food.

You hummed, and before you could start your sentence, the car pulled up. 

“Our ride is here; let’s go.”

You nodded, getting up and following. Mr. Scarletella

He opened the door for you to come into the car and closed it behind you.

You buckle up your seatbelt, and Mr. Scarletella hops into the car as well, putting on his seatbelt.

The drive was silent for a bit; the driver was an older woman. Her rugged voice broke the silence.

“So are you two a couple?”

You are confused and astonished by the question, before looking to the side where Mr. Scarletella was only to see him facing away from you.

“Uhm, no, we are not. I’m not sure if he does have a girlfriend, though!”

The old lady chuckled a little.

“I’m just asking; I thought you two were a couple!”

After having been in silence for so long, Mr. Scarletella took a glimpse of you to see your reaction, which was nothing more than confusion and nervous body language.

The rest of the ride to school was spent in silence. Nothing else but pure silence and embarrassment throughout it all.

You thanked the driver kindly before leaving the car and arriving at school.

Your stomach was starting to growl from hunger, so you looked over to Mr. Scarletella, who was right next to you, looking around the school entrance while the car pulled away.

"I promised you food." He looked down towards you smiling.

"Plus, I wouldn’t want to have you distracted by a grumbling stomach all class!"

You look away in shame and sadness at the comment, cheeks warming up a bit while he just chuckled to himself. 

"What would you like? Just let me know because I am hungry myself."

"I really like (fav food) from (fav fast food). We could possibly get something from there. I'm unsure if you like them."

"Oh, that's my favorite place as well!"

Me not known.

"Oh nice, let's go then before we need to get to class and you need to get to your meeting."

You both rushed to get there and ordered quickly. 

"Thank you so much for the food. Once again, you really didn't have to buy it for me."

That’s so sweet! He didn’t have to buy you food as you stated before, but you were happy and grateful that he did either way.

"It was no problem. Truly, I am very sorry for everything today. I hope you can forgive me."

"No, truly, it's okay. I really do appreciate the food very much, but you must get going; you have a meeting to be in, and I have a class I need to get to!"

He perked up almost as though he forgot even after the first reminder. 

"Yes, you are right, YN. I will see you around then!" 

"See ya!" You rushed to class as fast as you could, almost in a running manner.

"No running in the hallways!" He winked, chuckling at his own joke. 

You faked a laugh a bit before continuing on your merry way.

You rushed to class and made it before the teacher arrived so that you could get settled in. 

You sat next to Mr. Crawling and Mr. Chopped in class. He looks upset until he saw you walk through the door, causing him to smile and wave at you. 

You quickly sat down at your desk before you got bombarded by questions from both.

“What happened?"

"Are you okay?"

"Why are you late?”

You know Mr. Crawling doesn’t like Mr. Scarletella, so what could you say? But you can’t lie to your friend either! What to do? Hard choices in all reality, but you also don't want him to worry and think you don't trust his better judgment; a white lie will do. It's not really lying but just omitting certain facts.

"There was a bit of an incident, so I was running late for school."

Mr. Chopped seemed satisfied while Mr. Crawling seemed unsatisfied with that answer but took it nonetheless. 

Mr. Chopped had his hair braided with little clips here and there so his hair wasn't in the way but still looked cute.

"Well, thankfully it was nothing serious, and you are here in one piece!" 

Mr. Chopped stated while starting going on about what he did with Mr. Silver yesterday and how science class was really difficult. You turned over, nodded, and smiled. Mr. Chopped was really a talkative person, but you didn’t mind listening to his long discussion sessions about nothing sometimes.

In all honesty, you were glad he started talking because you did not know how to explain that you were basically hanging out in a car with the guy that Mr. Crawling absolutely does not want you to be around because he is dangerous. You knew Mr. Crawling would not like it whatsoever and would ask more questions, maybe even start following you to make sure you were okay.

In the middle of Mr. Chops's conversation, the teacher walks into the classroom surprisingly late; the class has now started. 

Time skip—

Once class was over, all three of you walked around to the yard; you still had your bag of food ready to eat. Yes, you took small bites of it throughout class, but you can’t just eat a full meal in class!

You settled down at a small circular table big enough for 3-4 people. So all 3 of you were facing each other; you can see behind them, but they couldn’t and vice versa. The boys pulled their food and started eating and joking and laughing and gossiping until their smiles faltered a bit, and then their smiles slowly turned into something different, each while staring behind you. 

Mr. Chopped seemed confused but relaxed, while Mr. Crawling seemed upset and worried. 

You sighed. Your suspicion was confirmed; they say Mr. Scarletella is approaching you all. Ironically, even though people were scared of him, he was still really popular with the girls and people who like boys. That was very confusing because the crowd was a mix of trying to talk to him and trying to get away from him. 

“Hello YN, Mr. Crawling, and Mr. Chopped. Do you mind if I sit with y'all?”

You shrugged; Mr. Chopped shook his head no, moving to the side so he could sit. While Mr. Crawling told him no.

To Mr. Crawling's dismay, Mr. Scarletella sat down at the table right between you and Mr. Chopped. 

Mr. Crawling sat even closer to you at the table, and so did Mr. Scarletella. 

You feel like you're in the middle of something between the two; you were basically shoulder to shoulder with them. 

This is some middle school drama-looking situation.

“So what made YOU want to sit HERE?”

Mr. Crawling grabbed your arm that was resting on your side before he grabbed onto it and leaned against you while Mr. Scarletella placed his hand over yours, pulling it to his lap. 

They kept fighting over who was sitting here and all other types of petty stuff. You felt like a rope in a tug of war over whatever they were arguing about, something you couldn’t understand. 

This felt like a shojo manga type of shit, like what!

You pull your arms away from them, which made both of them become silent. You stood up and walked towards Mr. Chopped and sat next to him. 

Both of them looked shocked and confused but then redirected that into anger towards each other. You looked at Mr. Chopped, who looked back at you.

“So, hm, you like grapes?”

He pushed his plate over to you, which you took like 2, so it wasn’t rude. 

You both stared in amusement at the fight between the two.

They both said something that they seemed to both agree on. This, however, prompted Mr. Chopped to start giggling and poking you. 

You in fact did not know what they were saying; you were cooked. You know you heard your name in there but not enough to know what is going on. What a shame.

Mr. Scarletella got up and walked over to you.

“Hey, I don’t think I got you a drink with the food. Want to go get you one?”

You shrugged your shoulders; you didn’t need a drink; it would be nice, though. 

“Hey YN, I actually brought you a drink here. I know it’s your favorite!”

Mr. Crawling pulled the can/pouch from his bag, holding it over towards you. 

“That’s warm, though I’m sure they would prefer a cold drink, isn’t that right?”

Mr. Scarletella stood over behind you while Mr. Crawling glared daggers at him. 

“I don’t really mind, but also I don’t want food to go to waste.”

You don’t know whether to go for the cold drink or the warm one that Mr. Crawling brought for you with much love. It was kind of chilly, so you decided to decline the cold beverage from Mr. Scarletella. 

“I think I’m good with this that Mr. Crawling has, plus you already did buy me food, and I don’t want you to be inconvenienced by that. I appreciate it, though!”

Mr. Crawling gave him a small, sly smirk while Mr. Scarletella hummed, glaring at him. Mr. Scarletella placed a hand on your shoulder.

“You don’t inconvenience me with anything; I'm just trying to ensure you are eating well." 

"Thank you. I appreciate your concern as well as the fact that you got me this other food. Let's just all enjoy the food." 

You patted the seat next to you for him to sit rather than stand. He sat between you and Mr. Crawling; Mr. Crawling did not like it, but he did not protest your choices.

Lunch over~~

You waved them goodbye as they headed different ways to class, except Mr. Scarletella, 

"So you have a class upstairs as well?" 

You asked him if he seemed flustered by the fact you saw him going the same direction. 

"Yes, I do."

"So how did your meeting go? I know you said you were late to it this morning."

"Yes, my meeting went very well and was a great success. I managed to convince them to make a spring festival for the whole school."

"Ooh, that's pretty cool. Let me know how that goes and what stuff you will have, because it sounds fun! Well, this is my class right here. I'll see you in a bit."

"Will do! See you in a bit!"

~~~~

This was a free period for him as well; the student council tended to have meetings during this time. It wasn't a required meeting, so he decided to skip it. He tried to not make any sound, but it was hard not to using the hand that held yours. The privilege that he had to hold your hand out of all people. The air feeling short from his lungs with his other hand covering his mouth. His heart racing, nothing but mumbling your name as if you were a god to pray to. 

He continued with only you in mind.

~~~~

After 2 other classes and a boring lecture, you were free! You had nothing to do after school today, so you went to visit Mr. Crawling. He was part of the baking club, and he was really good at it too. You make your way over to the club room and see Mr.crawling working on some cookies it seems. He was so focused on placing the frosting on them he didn’t notice you standing in front of him.

“Hey, Mr. Crawling, what are you doing there?”

He flinched a little before quickly lifting his head up to see you. 

“Oh hey!”

He smiled at you before looking back down at the cookies he was decorating.

“I’m making some cookies. They have club day coming up soon, so here I am trying to see what cookies would look better. What do you think?”

He stepped to the side, letting you have a close look at all the designs he made. There were cookies that were decorated to look like a strawberry cake, others that were plain chocolate chip cookies, and others that just said, “Join the baking club!” On a plain background. 

They all look pretty cute, some simple, others very complex, but if they had to make many of them, the plain ones seemed to be the best choice. 

“Why don’t you do the plain cookies, and the bags you put them in when handing them out can have the baking club's logo on it?”

He thought about it for a second and nodded. 

“Yeah, that would be way easier but still pushing the club's name!”

You nodded, although you doubted he hadn’t thought about that yet; maybe he just wanted to make sure to leave a good impression. 

“Do you want one of them?”

He asked, pushing the finished cookies towards you; they were too pretty to eat! But Mr. Crawling's cooking is also so amazing that you can’t decline. Last time you did decline, he was hurt, thinking you disliked his cooking. He took pride in his cooking skills.

“I’ll take this one right here, thank you so much!”

You grabbed the cookie and took a bite out of it; you could see him perk up with pride in his work.

“Where is Mr. Chopped? He is usually here with you, isn’t he?”

Mr. Crawling shrugged.

“I’m not sure; maybe he is with Mr. Silvair! He said he wasn’t doing very well in science.

“Ahh, okay, thank you. Well, I will stop disturbing you and let you work in peace. Thank you again for the cookie; they are delicious as always! I will be back for more!”

You waved your hand at him while you started making your way out the door.

“Thank you! See you in a bit!”

You walked off on your way to find Mr. Silvair; you passed the nurse's office, where he usually was. He wasn’t there, so he must be in the biology room. You walked past the library and the similar redhead holding a book, sitting alone.

You peeked through the door slightly. Mr. Scarletella flinched a little but quickly turned over to see you.

“Hey, what are you doing here alone?”

He almost seemed embarrassed; he cleared his throat before he spoke up.

“Well, I am the president of the reading club, so I like to go over books and see what we should read next.”

You hummed in understanding. 

“That’s nice. I didn’t know we had that as a club.

He looked at you. 

“Yeah, we are a small, close club. You should come by sometime and join us for a book review.”

“Yeah, I should, so what are you reading?”

You pulled a chair nearby and sat next to him. He was a little taken aback by this action and quickly grabbed the book. 

“So I’m reading Crier's War, and it is a beautiful story so far. The book starts with humans making AI, but over time the AI that become human are called automae because they become sentient. These robots were made to be the perfect human beings. They then take over the humans, which starts their empire. It really is going over what your character says about you and being human. They talk about the corruption within. I love it so far, and I think my club will love this book.”

(This is an actual book, by the way, and it’s fire. It is a queer fiction book if you're into it or aren't into it.

You nodded; it did sound pretty cool. The duality and what makes someone truly human: is it their actions, or is it the fact that they are physically human?

“I will come by for your next book meeting, then let me know what day it is so I can be ready!”

He pulled a book out from his bag and handed it to you.

“This is the book we are reading. If you want, we can go over it and read it at your place.”

You took the book and nodded.

“Welp, I’ll see you around then!”

You got up and walked away to continue looking for Mr. Chopped! 

You made your merry way up to the 3rd floor to go to the biology lab.

You found him!

Mr. Chopped with Mr. Silvair, they seem to become friends. You knocked and walked right in. Mr.Silvair was the same age as you all he was a teachers assistant who took over cause he was just too good at what he dose.

So they get straight into biology lessons. How unfortunate or maybe fortunate?

Time skip is boring~~~~~

The sun was setting. 

You walk past the library once again and still see Mr. Scarletella in there. What was he still doing here??You walk into the library and make your way to him. 

“Hey, you okay? What are you still doing here?”

Now that you got closer, you could see he was falling asleep. He had a lot of paper on the table mixed with books. 

His head was in his arms; you did not notice until now, but his nails were painted red as well. Red seemed to be his favorite color, and it really did suit him well. You noticed deep eye bags under his eyes, suggesting he hasn't been sleeping well. You gently tapped his shoulder, which seemed to catch his attention. It was for sure time for him to go home. 

“You okay? Let’s get your stuff together so you can get sleep at home.”

You started grabbing papers, some more scribbled on than others, and had a list that seemed to be like a plan of sorts while you were gathering them together. You glanced at one paper, and it had your name on it. You tried to read a little bit of it. Mr. Scarletta snatched the papers from your hand quickly before you could get a better look. 

“It’s okay; I got it!”

He scrambled to get his items, shoving them into his bag.

“Alright, if you say so."

You awkwardly stepped away and watched him put all his belongings in his bag. 

"So, are you sure you don't need help? That's a lot of papers."

He shook his head, waving his hand, showing he's all good. Once he was done, he got up and pushed his chair in. 

"Okay, I am ready."

You nodded, feeling bad about not helping him while he seemed off or maybe just tired. So you made your way out of the library and down the stairs to get to the first floor; you peeked into the baking club room and couldn't find any signs of Mr. Crawling being there anymore. 

"What are you looking for?"

"Mr. Crawling, I saw him here earlier before I went to look for Mr. Chopped. He might have gone home already."

You pulled out your phone while walking to the exit of the school and quickly texted Mr. Crawling asking if he was home before putting your phone away. 

You didn't notice how the red eyes followed your every move and got a glimpse of other text messages shared between the two of you. 

"So you and Mr. Crawling are close?" 

You were surprised by that comment, so you just shrugged.

"I mean, he has helped me a lot, especially with getting used to the school when I first came here. I remember I was so lost and confused."

He nodded in understanding.

"Have you had an easy time adapting to the school then?"

"Yes, all thanks to him!"

"I'm glad to hear it was easy to adapt to the school environment."

You continued walking towards the apartment complex in silence.

You got there, and it was already very dark by the time you got home. 

The building was huge and had around 12 floors. You were lucky to get a bottom floor, but due to its age, there was no elevator in the building, so it would be a lengthy walk from here. Mr. Scarlettela was so sleepy that it seemed like he wasn't going to make it to the top floors. You have eaten with him before and got tipsy, and he didn't do anything. He was also really nice to other students and never got in trouble. He could take the guest's room that way, so he doesn't have to walk all 12 steps, and he looked so tired. 

"Hey Mr. Scarletella, what apartment do you live at?"

"on the 12th floor"

"You look tired. I have a guest room because it is a long way up there to your apartment." 

"It is okay; I can make it up there." He said between yawns.

You chuckled a little.

"No, it's okay. Come on, you can stay here. Come in; let me show you the room."

You took him to the guest room and let him get comfortable, only for him to fall asleep immediately after touching the bed. 

You closed his room and went into your room and made sure to lock your door before changing and going to sleep.

It should be okay to let him stay the night, right? He was a friend and never did anything weird to you so far; he was always kind, so it was okay!

Surely it was okay.

=================================================

Sorry it took so long I kept forgetting to save while writing so I had to keep rewriting things like 10x🗿. iuwegiugaweiyfy

Enjoyyyyy

Also, he was jerking off in the window part as well as when he was in the bathroom after not going to the meeting. I am unsure if it wasn't clear, but I just want you all to know. I would rather you know than continue, because then it will get weirder.

Previews chapter

[r3n-d4ct3d]

REN-DACTED'S MASTERLIST

Requests? : OPEN

❤  -- SMUT (MDNI)

💗  -- FLUFF

🖤  -- ANGST

➥ None Yet.

Mr. Scarletella.・✫・゜���。.

Mr. Crawling・✫・゜・。.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

➥ None Yet.

Mr. Chopped・✫・゜・。.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

➥ None Yet.

Mr. Silvair・✫・゜・。.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

➥ None Yet.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

[dark-raven-666]

This shall be my introduction. I am called Rain, I go by She/They pronouns. I am an author and book lover. I'd say my aesthetic is between darkest academia and romantic Gothic.

I post little one shots for multiple fandoms.

Requests closed!

Request rules and fandoms

Masterlists

I also mainly reblog stuff

My IG is "moonbeams_of_music"

Do not interact list

-homophobes, transphobes, ped0s, racist people, Zionists, zoophiles and don't interact if you support this shit

FREE PALESTINE 🇵🇸🇵🇸

[lavendrgremlin]

I ended up writing a smuty one shot. Albeit, it's quite violent.

Title: Between the gaps, you will find me. Ao3 link

Tags: Dubcon, oral, size difference, voyeurism, rough, blood and injury, explicit, and near death stuff.

Summary: There was a word that kept slipping from your understanding. After all, how could one explain what sexual desire was without teaching it to you?

A little self indulgent

[paintedonmyteeth]

Hello!! I've been absolutely obsessed with homicipher lately, and I really love the fanfics and hcs you wrote for the characters so far!! You're a really great writer, your style and aesthetic is honestly so good!

I was curious if you had any headcanons for how Mr. Crawling, Mr. Hood, and Mr. Silvair would be with a cane-user reader that has severe leg pain? Like they typically use a cane to help them walk easier, but sometimes they can feel so much pain in their leg that it becomes too much to walk and they sometimes need to sit down or take a break?

Homicipher characters taking care of reader is one of my favorite types of things to read <3 I hope you have an amazing day!

Homicipher Boys w/ Cane!reader

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOHh YES I love the concept gbejbfj and I could def see this as a huge cute thing w/ Mr. Hood especially. 10/10, Homicipher boys taking care of the reader are the best HCs hands down gbejfjwj and tysm it makes me happy to hear that others rlly enjoy my work!!!! :D

Mr. Crawling 𖦹₊⊹

⭑.ᐟ — Mr. Crawling as the absolute fucking sweetheart he is would want to be the biggest help for you when getting around certain areas of the Ghost Apartments.

⭑.ᐟ — At the same time, Mr. Crawling is also disappointed in himself he can’t be much of a help, it’s difficult for him to stand on his own feet for any longer than a few minutes considering he’s used to crawling around.

⭑.ᐟ — Which also means he can’t carry you :((

⭑.ᐟ — The best he can do however is help avoid any places like the boardwalk room with all the water or anything with a ladder so you’re putting less stress on your muscles and your bad leg.

⭑.ᐟ — Mr. Crawling does his best to try in protect you from any hostile residents (eg. the time you got kidnapped by Mr. Stitch), he’s not trusting anybody that’s not Mr. Silvair, or any other residents you’re not familiar with.

⭑.ᐟ — Ofc break times are also a must have so whenever there’s a room that’s safe to take a breather, he’ll basically lead you by the hand to take a seat and give your bad leg a rest. Cuddles are also given for a bonus <3

Mr. Silvair 𖦹₊⊹

⭑.ᐟ — Mr. Silvair being kind of like the scientist/doctor, he’s pretty much the best source in getting any help you need for your leg.

⭑.ᐟ — Considering meds or painkillers aren’t things that exist in this ghostly dimension, Mr. Silvair tries finding other alternatives in order to alleviate your severe pain in your leg. Maybe try to work and figure out some sort of 'cure' with what resources and tools he has.

⭑.ᐟ — So with getting a few checkups/experiments done on your body (aka the weird thing going on with your body slowly changing due to staying in the Ghost Apartments), Mr. Silvair also checks in once in a while to see how your leg pain is going and suggests in resting whenever needed. You’re basically more than welcome to use his spare beds when you need them most.

⭑.ᐟ — Mr. Silvair might’ve found something better from the room with all the trashed items like a crutch for example so you can lean your weight on it a little and it’s somewhat easier to walk around.

⭑.ᐟ — Eventually Mr. Silvair found someway to help out with your leg pains, ofc having injections doesn’t look like to be the safest in normal people standards but yk, you’ll take anything you can get to be free from the pain even if it’s for a small while.

⭑.ᐟ — You might not get around much at this point, but whenever you’re in Mr. Silvair’s place you stay around for a little while during your breaks and Mr. Chopped’s just there keeping you company. :)

Mr. Hood 𖦹₊⊹

⭑.ᐟ — Mr. Hood sees this as no problem at all tbh (It’s practically a W in Mr. Hood’s books).

⭑.ᐟ — Also fuck your cane honestly, he’s not thinking that ofc, but there’s no reason in needing one if Mr. Hood’s going to carry you all the time??? You can always rely on him to bring you to places you want to go.

⭑.ᐟ — You feel bad and selfish for taking advantage of Mr. Hood this way, but he’s honestly not complaining at all if he gets to hold you close like this whenever he wants. He’s not sure what the fuzzy feeling is but he just likes having you in his arms.

⭑.ᐟ — Sometimes you’d insist you’re able to walk on your own with the cane and you don’t need to be carried, Mr. Hood doesn’t think so, and he’ll still carry you anyways even if you don’t want him to.

⭑.ᐟ — It’s just looks so difficult seeing you struggle to get around certain places in the Ghost Apartments, there’s like a handful of dangerous things and you can’t run at all with that bad leg of yours.

⭑.ᐟ — There’s no need to feel guilty, even if Mr. Hood’s not put together or understand what he’s feeling most of the time, he’ll do anything to help out, keep you safe and protected. :))

[bloosooo]

another thought about homicipher, or rather about Mr. Silvair, in many headcanons/fanfics he is portrayed as rather cold and not understanding the concepts of "love", "like" and so on, but I dare to suggest that he is not as bad as everyone thinks, in one of the endings (either Mr.Silvair1 or 2) when we "kill" him (or rather turn him into a mess of flesh) he says that he realized what "like" is, so we can conclude that he knows how and experiences emotions, probably with more prolonged communication and interaction with the main character he will open up more emotionally. Also, you can see that he is not against tactility, he, like Mr. Crawling, strokes our mc, and also covers her with himself in different scenes

[bloodblanks]

one umbrella cover two [mr. scarletella x reader] — chapter vii.

Your interactions with the entity holding you captive begin to escalate.

note: reader is not player (mc).

author’s note: dead dove: do not eat. this fanfiction will contain dark and explicit content, including heavy dub-con, stockholm syndrome, violence, and similar themes.

please read at your own discretion.

<- previous chapter

My human.

From the very second he laid eyes on you, he knew you were his. While you were gifted to him by the woman in a raincoat, that fact alone had little influence on and could not even begin to encapsulate his desire for you.

He had a clear recollection of the moment he found you. You had been injured by the aforementioned woman, sanguine, exquisitely oozing out of the wound on your head. The sight of blood spilling down your delicate features was one he’d never forget, the image having been seared into his mind. You were so, so lovely. A hint of colour against the dull monochrome building; a singular rose blossoming in the dead of winter.

Pretty.

You were just as beautiful now as you had been upon your first meeting, if he could call it that. Though he had adored the way the fresh steaks of red glistened on your skin, he did not find you any less enchanting, even with the blood having dried and crumbled away.

You were truly a gift for him, and he’d cherish you as such.

Which is why he failed to understand your reaction, disagreeing and arguing with him about not having been given to him.

Despite his mild frustration at your incomprehensible response, he wouldn’t get angry with you. You were already afraid of him for some unknown reason, and he didn’t want to exacerbate that fear. Instead, he’d try his best to explain to you the situation. You had no reason to be frightful of him; he’d take good care of you.

Human not communicate. Me worry.

For a moment, you were unresponsive, leading him to worry that you would continue to protest. But then you slowly nodded your head at him.

Human understand. You understand me.

Me happy, he thought. Grateful.

He was unable to do anything but smile, grinning widely from cheek to cheek at your acceptance. You had accepted his desire to take care of you. You had accepted being his gift. You had accepted him.

“You want me.” His statement came out plain and simple, uttered more to himself than to you.

Eyes pretty.

You didn’t refuse him, however. You merely glanced at him with wide eyes, eyes that reflected away all the dreariness of this place with the utmost brilliance. He simply allowed himself a moment to gaze into them, admiring the way they glimmered.

You nodded once again, such a small, slow tilt of your head that he almost failed to catch it.

Human want me. You want me.

“You want me,” his smile widened. “You want me, you want me...”

He feverishly chanted those words, as if each repetition was a stronger confirmation of your feelings than the last.

His heart throbbed, an aching pulse that pulverized him from the inside. While the words existed in his language, he never understood them—not until now. What was once a foreign concept to him now became all too present and all too real.

He craved you with a primal need that swirled deep in his viscera, longing for you in ways he only just now began to comprehend.

And you wanted him too.

Want me.

Just that simple fact was enough for his chest to rumble with tremendous force, the world inside his heart shifting much like the larger expanse he resided in.

Want have human. Want touch.

You were here looking at him still with doe eyes, the sight only further amplifying his desire. As the urge to have you filled his mind, he reacted accordingly by reaching out to you. His fingers brushed against your hair with the intention of stroking it, but you instantly flinched away from him.

Head damaged, head hurt, he suddenly remembered.

He couldn’t run his fingers through your hair, but that did little to diminish his coveting for you. Instead, he settled for touching your face, his fingers tracing along your forehead, your cheeks, your jawline. When they trailed over your lips, he realized he preferred touching them over the rest of your face.

He brushed his fingers over your lips a few more times and each time he did, he yearned for you a bit more than the last.

Want mouth touch.

He wasn’t sure where that thought came from. It was unfamiliar, yet somehow, it felt natural. There was an aspect about the gesture of touching your mouth with his that made it seem different from doing so with his hands. He wasn’t sure why that was, but it was intriguing, this newfound concept.

Slowly, he moved his index finger between your lips, gently pushing them apart. Your lips were a bit damp there, something he found strangely inviting. He wanted to bring his mouth to yours, he wanted to feel your lips against his—and you wanted him, so you wanted this too.

“Want you,” he said, his voice softer than usual, yet filled with fervour.

Want you. He looked at you for a moment longer, before he followed his instincts, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours.

Pleasant.

Your mouth was astonishingly warm, all molten heat and liquid velvet against his own. So soft, so alluring, so inviting. It was a sensation that felt oddly familiar, stirring up something in his chest that he couldn’t quite place his finger on. He didn’t pay it much mind, instead enjoying the feeling of your mouths touching in a way that was all too intoxicating.

Me you together.

In that very moment, with his lips encapsulating yours, the two of you were connected. He liked that.

He liked the togetherness, wanted more of it as he tried moving his lips against yours, hoping you’d do the same. To his own surprise, he found himself disappointed at your lack of reaction. He wasn’t sure what he had expected, but he wanted more than just this. He craved you with an aching need, desperately longed for more of you. He wanted to feel you against him, he wanted you.

Still, you were inanimate, leading him to wonder why. He reasoned that you were likely new to this, much like he was. Perhaps you didn’t know what to do, or maybe humans had a different way of expressing desire. He wasn’t sure, but he knew he should be patient with you and give you time to get accustomed to this. He would be gentle with you. He would take good care of you and show you that you had no reason to fear him. He would treasure you as his gift. He would express how much he craves you.

He pulled away briefly so he could speak.

“Together,” he mumbled. “Me like.”

Your eyebrows scrunched slightly, your parted lips—now faintly glistening—pressing together into a frown. His own eyes widened in shock; was there something wrong?

“You hurt?” he tentatively asked, a myriad of concerns welling up in his chest. “You okay?”

Human upset. Not know why.

Your frown seemed to deepen, your eyes glazing over with moisture that confused him greatly. He waited patiently for you to respond. After a long moment of silence, you finally uttered a singular word.

“Hurt,” you reluctantly stated.

“Why?” His response was instant. He had been so careful with you. He was aware you were fragile, and he treated you like such. It was hard to imagine he had hurt you in some way.

“Hungry,” you answered. He briefly wondered if there was more to it than just hunger, but he realized then that you had told him about needing food quite some time ago. It made sense. It made sense, but he found himself wishing that wasn’t the case. He wanted to continue what he was doing with you; he wanted to keep enjoying the feeling of togetherness that he experienced with you. But he said he’d take care of you, and that meant ensuring you didn’t go hungry.

He nodded his head, pulling back from you and reaching over to give you the box that you claimed was consumable. You gingerly took it from him, pausing for a moment before a small smile formed on your face.

Human happy. Me like.

“Thank you,” you said. For a second, he was awestruck—the way your lips curved upwards made his heart throb tenderly in his chest. He instinctively put a hand on his own chest, though nothing about it felt different.

Heart change? Not know.

“Welcome,” he muttered, his voice almost breathy.

—

As you chewed on the granola, you found a variety of thoughts coming to mind. At the forefront, you found yourself thinking the granola was extremely delicious. You had not had granola this tasty before. That’s what hunger does to people, you supposed.

In the back of your mind, you found yourself wondering just where exactly your current circumstances would place as far as the misfortune side of the misfortune-complaining matrix went. You had thought being kidnapped and held captive by a ghostly entity was a seven. Being kidnapped, held captive, and kissed by said monster, however—that should probably rank higher, right?

The concerning part was your uncertainty about that point. It should rank higher. In anyone’s sane mind, it would be worse. But somewhere in the very back of your mind, hiding in the shadowy, dark recesses, was the realization that you didn’t find it repulsive.

It was most definitely strange; there was no doubt about that. No matter how you looked at or thought about it, kissing an inhuman creature was an abnormal thing. The very experience was bizarre, from the coldness of his lips, to the stiffness of his movements, and to, well, the fact that he wasn’t human.

Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to hate it. If you were being fully honest with yourself, the kiss was... fine. Not how you would imagine a kiss to happen, but nonetheless not displeasing.

Perhaps you had gone insane in the short time span of being here—you weren’t sure. You most definitely felt like you were losing your mind as you ruminated over the kiss.

You had only gone along with it because you didn’t want to upset him, and yet, you couldn’t help but feel extremely flustered about it.

It’s just a kiss, you told yourself. He probably doesn’t even understand how it works.

Your thoughts did little to convince yourself that you were not becoming mad. The ever watchful gaze of the red umbrella man was still on you, increasing the discomfort and awkwardness that you felt. You found yourself shying away, eyes fixated on your lap, on the granola bar that you had stopped chewing, on everything besides him.

“You okay?” He suddenly interrupted your thoughts to ask a question.

“C-Correct,” you stammered, slightly caught off guard. You didn’t know how exactly to say you were okay, so you settled for the closest word you knew. The language barrier still proved to be endlessly frustrating, even with the help you received from Mr. Silvair.

The red umbrella man touched his hand to your cheek, the unexpected movement causing a startled jump.

“Face hurt?” he questioned. You thought his question over before responding.

“Face hurt,” you agreed, lying through your teeth much like you did earlier. You hoped he wouldn’t notice; the sparseness of the language should be enough to cover for any unusualness on your part.

“You ▮▮▮▮?”

You knew Mr. Silvair used that word when speaking to the red umbrella man, but you didn’t quite know what it meant.

“Not understand,” you replied. You weren’t as hungry anymore, but you chewed on your granola bar anyway, hoping it would save you from further conversation.

He didn’t talk after that. You finished your granola bar in silence, its wrapper soon joining the other packaging that you had discarded into the box, using it as a temporary trash can.

A wave of exhaustion washed over your body all at once, the adrenaline from the day’s events finally all wearing off. You could feel a mild ache in your head still, causing you to frown.

You glanced at the red umbrella man, who had been soundlessly observing you—very much unsettling behaviour—and back at the bed, where a small pillow was. It didn’t appear that he planned on letting you go anytime soon. You decided that you might as well rest now. Maybe once you recover some energy, you would be able to find a way out, though having to go through those terrifying rooms again was not something you looked forward to.

You let out another vexed exhale before sliding your shoes off and crawling into bed.

“You ▮▮▮▮?” The red umbrella man—which you were getting tired of mentally using—asked again. The word must mean ‘rest.’

“Correct,” you nodded. “Me rest.”

—

Human need rest. Human weak. Cute.

He didn’t understand the exact sleeping needs of a human yet, but considering how you woke up not long ago, you needed to sleep much more than he did.

His needs for rest were mostly limited to his mind. His body rarely needed any fuel; besides the occasional meal and fluid, he required little else. However, silencing his mind was a different matter.

It wasn’t a thing he needed often, but it was more constant than his need for consumption and physical rest. Every here and there, he slept in order to give his mind a break. Continuous thinking proved to be bothersome after a lengthy enough period, and so he would refresh himself by shutting down temporarily.

Human rest. Me take care.

As you made yourself comfortable in bed and lied down, you reached to pull the covers over yourself. The covers were just slightly too far away, which he noticed when you were about to sit up again.

Quickly, he reached for the covers himself, gently tugging it over your body. Your eyes opened in surprise, but as he rested the fabric on your shoulders, you seemed to relax.

Human happy. Me like. A lot like.

You raised your head slightly to look at him before smiling, seemingly content. The organ in his chest fluttered once again, an unsettling sensation. He looked down to examine his torso—nothing was wrong.

Not understand, he thought.

It didn’t matter too much, however. Your mouth was curved upwards in the most delightful way, and he felt the urge to touch it with his own, but refrained. He would take care of you and allow you to sleep first.

“Goodnight,” he couldn’t help returning your smile. Yours faltered for a slight second before you let out a nervous laugh.

Pleasant.

“Goodnight,” you repeated back to him.

You snuggled into the pillow, seemingly comfortable in the bed. He felt proud of having taken good care of you, like he decided he would.

Your eyelids fluttered briefly, but just when he thought you’d fallen asleep, you abruptly opened them.

“You have name?” you unexpectedly inquired.

He opened his mouth, about to tell you that he didn’t, when a sharp, buzzing static pierced through his skull. 

next chapter ->

if you enjoy my writing, please consider reblogging; i really appreciate the interactions.

thank you everyone for reading and supporting my work! (｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

[manmadejoyswithinmycomprehension]

I love your "homicipher x male reader" fanfics, please rest more and get inspired

Hi! Thank you for the concern! I'll definitely get some rest in the following weeks. Don't mind me using your comment to post a new fic :3 Also, I'll close my requests for now, but make a super cool advent calendar soon, so stay tuned!!!!

Mr. Silvair NSFW (solo play iykwim :3)

can you tell this was inspired by "One of The Girls" by the weeknd?? listen to it while you read this

He was tired. So, so, so fucking tired. He'd spent his entire day cleaning up his laboratory and gathering tools that fell from the other world, and JUST when he thought he had finished this entire ordeal, another earthquake shook up the ghost apartments and trapped him under a pile of rubble. His mangled body slithered out from between the chunks of concrete that scattered across the newly-formed hallways. It took Mr. Silvair a few good hours to regenerate to his usual form. Unfortunately, he had lost or damaged most of his materials in the surprising event, and this left him absolutely fuming. And then, as he dragged his weakened body back to the small base, Mr. Wheelchair stopped him in his tracks and talked his ear off about how sick he feels. Forcing a smile, Silvair promised to make a cure for him as he took more and more steps back, until the other man was out of sight.

Stomping and mumbling, he slammed the door to his hideout, waking Mr. Chopped up. While preparing to wail and complain, he noticed Mr. Silvair's pained expression, and pursed his lips - maybe it wasn't the time to talk to him. The doctor continued walking, aiming for his testing room. He locked the door behind him and collapsed on a chair, his forearms resting on the operating table. Shit, he hadn't felt this restless in a good while. Maybe since he was last alive, after a tough shift? Either way, Mr. Chopped must have gone back to sleep. He leaned back and sighed, wiping the sweat from his face with both of his hands. He spread his legs a little wider to get comfortable, his cock hard and aching. His arms fell to his sides and slumped down by his hips. Wasn't he supposed to keep the facade of a stoic doctor? Where was his self-control?

Ah, it didn't matter anymore... He dragged his pants down and freed his shaft, a droplet of precum already leaking from the tip. Mr. Silvair clicked his tongue, mentally berating himself for the obscenity of the situation. Hesitantly, he wrapped his hand around the base, making his way to the top in a slow, steady manner. The eerie man let out a huff, his entire body shaking - it had been too long, and he'd gotten way too sensitive for such activities. He licked his lips, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh to muffle another sound as his hand moved a bit faster, stimulating his private area before stopping altogether, giving him some respite, then restarting. Silvair's muscles rippled beneath his skin, a sheen of sweat covering his toned abdomen as it moved in tandem with his erratic breaths. With his free hand, he pulled the hem of his coat and shoved the material into his mouth, grunting into the stained fabric. If Mr. Chopped heard him, he'd much rather prefer to have the ground swallow him whole than live another day with that shame. He bit down on the coat, grinding his teeth against each other as he jerked himself off, squelching noises now bouncing off the walls of the room. His thighs shook and clenched with each movement, toes curling with every pass of his calloused palm against his tip. Mr. Silvair's ears started ringing and he threw his head back, stroking faster and faster, desperately trying to release some pressure.

His mind conjured up all sorts of images, even against his will; what if he had a woman as aroused as him, grinding her soaked pussy against his abs, clit dragging along his skin? Or perhaps a man who he could bounce on his knee as they helped each other, stimulating his balls with each movement as Mr. Silvair rubbed their cocks together? Each fantasy pushed him closer and closer to the edge, and he shoved the piece of fabric even more into his mouth to make sure Mr. Chopped wouldn't hear. He groaned and sputtered against it while ropes of hot, thick, sticky cum shot out of his reddened length.

The doctor sat back down on the chair and removed his coat, using it to clean the sweat off his body. He definitely felt more relaxed now, but some guilt still clung to him... Sighing, he got up and put away some of his materials, trying to focus on chores rather than his hardening cock.

[arenabreadandbiscuits]

I'm soaked

[ophelia-ophelian]

okay just got into homicipher and desperate for fanfic so i am now in the business to write them

yes it’s def going to be mr. silvair “research body”