} human muzan, mean muzan
a/n; WE NEED MORE HUMAN MUZANNNNN
assuming from the reactions of the gardener and maid as he walks alone, perhaps due to his noble status, they hesitate to help him even when he might stumble or need help
Muzan finds his illness frustrating and don't want to look pathetic, he preferring not to be supported from anyone while walking or feeding his medicine
therefore, the only way is not to offer help that might make him look pity, but to be useful to him instead
the first time you offer to help him walk, you could suggest him to hold your arm for balance
"don't be absurd, I don't need your help" he replies
you explain that you could serve as his walking support, as a stupid crutches, as a cushion for him to fall on, or even a damn floor for him to step on if he desires
by positioning yourself as a tool for his use rather than as someone helping him, he might see you as invaluable without feeling indebted to you, a mere servant in his eyes
i have this angst idea where the reader and their villain s/o are in a heated argument, but the reader is so exhausted that they finally snap and say, 'go on, just k!ll me already' while grabbing their s/oās handāthe one holding the gvn/kn!fe, to hurt themselves. and in that moment, for the first time, their s/o loses the argument⦠because they love the reader too much they just can't do it
but thinking about my favs, I can name a few who would do it without hesitation. the ones you just canāt provoke. so I was like, nah, forget about it lol
AFAB!Reader x Mr. Crawling/Mr. Chopped/Mr. Hood/Mr. Gap/Mr.Scarletella || NSFW || Scissoring, masturbation, some crack elements, pussy eating (receiving), a wee bit of plot in some of these, and obviously, AFAB characters ||
A/N: Watched playthroughs by Hello Yinny on YT! Check her out! Based off the poll!
Mr. Crawling isn't sure there's a word in either of your languages to describe how he feels when you present him with a pair of baby pink panties, a cute little bow adorning the front of them. And when you remove your clothes, revealing your matching pair, he knows for sure there isn't.
Sitting cunt-to-cunt, you on top, with his knees pressed to his shoulders and his large hands desperately grabbing at your calves and thighs, you figured you'd be just fine dying here and now.
You can feel his hole flexing through his panties, clenching and unclenching erratically. You haven't even started moving yet, and already his arousal soaked through the pink fabric, making it cling to his cunt. The very sight was lewd, even more so as you pressed into him, watching the outline of his lips squish as they kissed yours.
Long nails scratch your skin as you rock back and forth, slowly at first, studying Mr. Crawling for every little reaction he had. The bob of his adam's apple in his throat, the twitch of every muscle you could see as pleasure shot threw him, the way his back begins to bow, even restrained as he was. He was crying, wailing, pleading your name till it was mere babble even in his own language.
Taking a deep breath, you resist the urge to chuckle. He was about to cumā you could feel it in the way his hole fluttered āand you.... You haven't even sped up yet.
Mr. Chopped.... Doesn't have a body. But he does have enthusiasm, and what's sex without excitement?
You can't decide if he looks better with the underwear on his head, or over his face.
But, you suppose it doesn't matter now. Either way, he has a crystal clear view of your lithe fingers rubbing slow circles around your clit, a heart-shaped stain blooming in the orange fabric.
"Cute!"
His smile is so wide and genuine when he says it that you let it go. You're not sure if you would have accepted that description from anyone else.
Throwing your head back and spreading your legs wide, you slide realllll close, close enough that the print of your pussy through the panties is so clear, you might as well take them off. So close that had your finger not been busy abusing it, your clit would be touching the tip of his nose.
He can smell you, and it's making his mouth water. Your skin as sweat begins to drip from it, the intoxicating aroma of your arousal, so close yet so far. He wants to taste you, and you can see it in the wide-eyed stare he gives you as your hand slips past the lacey band and spreads your lips, slivers of each just barely peeking out the sides. Free of obstruction, arousal pours till it pools on the sheets below.
Want. One word he didn't have to teach you. When he said it, it was as clear as if he'd said in your own language.
"Want! Taste!"
His whining got louder and louder, tears beading as you scooted just out of reach right as he stuck his tongue out.
Aww, he's so desperate. It's mean to tease him like this. Heyā if you put the panties over his face, would that still count as scissoring?
Once again, it doesn't matter, because you're already stuffing his mouth full of your cunt, with the panties still on. And naturally, he's already slurping it like a man starved. His eyes are wide and excited, his tongue curious and rough. Orange irises dash between your face and your cunt, and you can feel him trying to speak as you grind along his tongue. He manages to push your panties to the side, his tongue bullying its way into your hole. He's eager, and you're close, and soon, your fluids are gushing down what's left of his throat, across his face, and wetting the matching lace panties you fit across his skull.
Later that day, you find he won't let you take them off. When he asks, "Me cute?" You can't bare to tell him no.
Mr. Hood... Also doesn't have a physical form. But you've scissored with less. Brought matching panties for less, too.
Wearing nothing but creamy brown lace panties, you figure this might be your most accurate twin yet. You almost couldn't take him seriously with that little brown bow attached to his hood. But you had to match somehow!
When you sat on top of him, cloak still on, an idea crossed you. Peeling the cloak back does nothing; but reaching in, you feel something. Trailing lower and lower, eventually, you find something. Something that could make Mr. Hood shiver and shake and gasp and moan.
To keep the cloak on and his form tangible, you had to let him get on top. He towered over you, flowing robes hiding much of your own form. But when your cores touch, it's worth it. When he rests on you, fully seated in proper scissor positioning, you're surprised to find how heavy he is. His lips kiss yours hard through the panties, the slightest of movements hitting your clit head-on.
Caring as ever, he checks on you when he sees you flinch.
"No... Good. More."
"Hurt?"
"Good?" His voice is surprisingly breathy, and you realize he's panting. His hips give a seemingly experimental roll, and you moan loudly.
"Yes, good! More!"
"More." He sighs it almost contentedly, his pace getting slower, his thrusts harder. It's mind blowing, and you soon find that you're the one left whining.
He's not silent either though; gasps are starting to escape, and in your attempts to meet his thrusts you find what must be his clit. His back bows, a noise rising from deep in his chest to fill the air between you as he grips the bedframe. You work hard to hit that same spot over and over again.
He's talking, but you can't hear past the pleasure. He feels so good, and he's so wet, and the lewd sounds coming from where you meet seem to make you more sensitive. It's somehow hotter when you can't see what's happening. Only feel it, left to imagine how his hole must look as it leaks and drools, his face as you fuck him back.
Then, he hits your clit hard. You scream as you cum, chants of "Yes, more" swimming at the edge of your consciousness as your vision goes white. For a few moments, you're floating. And when he cums on you, borderline babbling,
"Good. Yes. More. More. More," ...
You ascend.
Mr. Gap was a hard guy to catch, and even harder to put panties on. Like, what color would you even get them in? Broken vent grey? Hole in the wall white? Super scary shadow black? But he had a body. A hole, even. And you had a goal.
Deep in the darkness of what you would assume was a gap, you and Mr. Gap fight for dominance. Unfortunately, it's not nearly as hot as it sounds.
"Put these on!"
"Give heart."
It wasn't even a question! He has the audacity to tell you, like he has ANY authority here!
"Rrghhh-" you grit your teeth, groaning as you hold up the matching pair of black panties, line with white lace and adorned with a cute little black bow. At the center of it? An even littler white heart. Far too cute for this ungrateful ass.
Searching for the words, you attempt to communicate your frustrationā
And then, it hits you. Kind of.
"...Me give... Me?"
His single visible eye blinks, confusion and interest blossoming in his gaze.
"Come here."
He does, and finally, you feel him. Freezing skin, a thin body, and... A warm cunt. It's a hassle to explain how you wrestled those panties onto him, but... There's emphasis on "wrestled."
At last, you have his legs locked tight around you. One over your shoulder, the other wrapped securely around your waist. You could hear how quickly he was breathing as if he were right next to you, feel every shudder of anticipation as if they were yours. You're beginning to think that this "gap" isn't just a space he resides in, but in some form, it is him. A part of him, at least. And it was feeling everything you did to him just as much if not more.
You roll your hips, and it seems as if the whole space pulsed. God, he's sensitive; that one thrust made his back arch, broken nails clawing down the skin of your thighs hard enough to draw blood. He didn't moan, but his sharp intake of breath told you plenty. You couldn't see what you were doing, but it seems like you should keep doing it.
Once more, and you feel as if you're inside him, being clenched and gripped as though he'd never let you leave again. He cries out this time, and it's your name that leaves his lips. It's not often that you hear anyone say it, let alone him, and it catches you by surprise
"[Name]..... Give... Heart?"
'Old habits die hard,' you guess. You sigh, grinding backwards reallllllllll slow, drawing out a long moan from the spirit beneath you..... And then starting straight into the most brutal pace you can manage.
The reaction is immediate; his back arches high and hard, and you're leaning over him to hold him by it. His cries become screams, pleasure tearing his vocal cords to shreds as you mercilessly fuck him. The friction of the panties, the knowledge that they matched, and the complete loss of sight left you in a similar state. It was too much, you were too sensitive, he felt too good, he needed you too badly. You didn't mind when he clawed at your back to ground himself. It'd turn you on again later, seeing the blood on his fingers, the scars on your back.
Both of your legs begin to tremble, the pulse of the space numbing your brain to all but the feel of his pussy against your own. It was electrifying, to the point you didn't realize you'd cum till your limbs failed to hold you up any longer. Mr. Gap was in even worse shape; he'd cum a long time ago. Overstimulation had fried his brain, his eye glazed over and unfocused.
You can't even find it in you to be mad when, however long later it was, he whispers, "You.... Not give you."
How'd you say it again in his language?
"You lose."
Mr. Scarletella was more than eager to dress up for you. Any chance to see you was a blessing upon his evil soul, and every chance to please you was an opportunity to make sure you never need, or want, anyone else, ever again.
Mr. Scarletella didn't just have on red underwear. He was wearing a full lingerie set.
Caging you onto the bed with his massive form, his nose brushed yours with every heavy exhale he released. Blood red eyes more haunted than the very building you inhabited stared at you, hungry for something you were oh-so ready to give him.
Your gaze carried a similar hunger. It made him love you that much more.
Your hands hold his face far too tenderly, a sort of daze coming over you. All you wanted was to touch and feel and taste and have and keep and- was this you thinking, or him?
Your hands run over red lace, silk straps snapping against his skin as you pulled them. You only let one hand continue far enough to cup his cunt; it emitted warmth enough to burn you up, and bless if it didn't excite you.
"Change."
He listens, eager to please. Now he lay flat on the bed, you between his thighs. Your eyes sat heavy on his core, watching arousal gradually soak through until when you touch it, a thin string connects you even when you pull your hand away.
Red panties, red lace, red bow. You kiss him, in more ways than one. First, mouth to mouth; it's a stretch, but it's worth it to feel his intensity all poured into a single touch. Then, cunt to cunt; you cage his thighs beneath your own, savoring the sigh of relief you both give when your pussies meet. The touch is soft, the intensity high. You want no more than to fuck him like this, until peak after peak rolls by, until you can't move, until Mr. Scarletella can't speak, until he tells you his name.
And so, you do. There was never going to be a slow start with him. He's all fire and passion and pumping blood and beating hearts, and merely being around him leaves you infected with the need to do and touch and please and have and-
"Love..."
His voice is a shadow of its former self. A breathless husk, just barely caught and kept long enough to say one word.
"Love... Me?"
"Yes."
"Together... Long?"
"Of course."
"You...." His voice cracks, then breaks, the shards of his sentence lost within the echoing cries that rip from his throat as he cums.
You can feel his clit twitching against yours. Your own tears begin to pour, your own orgasm crashing into you, yet your hips don't so much as stutter. It's as though they were possessed by a separate entity, one that intended to bleed you both dry.
Hours continue like this, and his ability to speak is lost completely. At some point, your body fails you too, your ability to move now gone. Peak after peak have gone by, but...
In the silence of the room, hours, days, years later, he finally mumbles something.
"Hm?"
"Me..."
You don't even have the strength to open your eyes, but you imagine yourself quirking your eyebrow while tilting your head in confusion.
"Name...."
Wait...?
"Me... Give."
You don't have time to react. Before you realize, he's saying it, and your life has changed forever.
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A/N: believe it or not, Mr. Gap is my favorite. But Mr. Scarletella is special to me. I don't even LIKE yanderes! Mr. Silvitair not included cause I don't really like him as much lol :P
} real world, the nsfw part is VERY short y-y
characters; mr. gap & mr. scarletella
My beloved aka Mr. Gap
heās annoying and cute (canon)
likes to surprise you but acts nonchalant about it
no worries about danger in an alleyāhe always keeps an eye on you, and no one would dare touch you (he scares them away first)
the dev said itād be funny to make players say something like, "what do you mean youāre kind when youāve caused so many game overs?" when he helps you and calls himself good/kind.
yeah, heās silly like that (luv him)
his love languages are gift-giving, quality time, and physical touch
gift-giving: as much as he loves receiving things from you, he loves giving things to you too
quality time: he can appear anywhere, anytime. sometimes, heāll only spend a short time with you before leaving to prank someone, but at the end of the day, heāll always come back to youāoften in surprising ways (like appearing under your bed or blanket)
physical touch: the moment he reached his arms out to hug the mc, I was screamingāheās so cute! I thought heād be the type to dislike being touched, but he reached out first, so yeah
Mr. Scarletella
most of the main characters are born as ghosts, and since theyāre born from peopleās beliefs (similar to Rise of the Guardians), if people donāt believe in them, they canāt be seen
at first, I headcanoned him as asexual since heās more of a phenomenon than a person, but this is a romantic horror game, so...
he learns about love by watching human lovers, but heās still bad at it, and his love is twisted, so his actions arenāt exactly normal
in Japan, itās common for guys to be shy and for girls to confess their feelings first
the scene where he says "me like you" follows a moment where we give him a gift and he says, "you like me" this can be interpreted as us confessing love to him first
the word "together" (äøē·ć«), if Iām not wrong, can imply romantic feelings. Saying youāre going to do something together can lead someone to think you have feelings for them
physical touch: he imitates what he thinks humans consider romanticāholding hands, staying close to each other, etc.
words of affirmation: honestly, the only thing youād probably need to say to him is to tell him to stfu already
acts of service & gift-giving: he lures someone with his illusions to lead them to his territory, just so you can hunt them down. he also helps you cover the evidence if needed and offers human prey as a gift for you
quality time: bros been spending his time stalking you since the very beginning
nsfw;
Mr. Gap
dacryphilia
if you being stressed and cry, he'd be worries, but on the bed is other thingggg broo
TEASES A LOT
like both verbally and physically with your body
orgasm denial, he enjoys keeping you on edge
likes to appear at the edge of your bed at night, crawling from your toes up to your body
appear under your blanket to fingering u
bro MIGHT just be really good at fingering
Mr. Scarletella
somnophilia
I think mr. crawling would be into this too but the different is, mr.crawling he lets you know and ensures you both consent, on other hand, mr. scarletella just does it cuz he wants
you can't convince me that Mr. Gap isnāt the kind of guy who would peep through the bathroom door while you're in there just to ask the silliest question, like, 'can I borrow your charger?' even though itās clearly sitting on the desk beside your bed
no cuz, on this part I thought that Mr. Silvair had captured and chained us (sorry-) anyway, since we can put our own words, I have this headcanon that when Mr. Silvair greets us, he'd say something like 'Hello, dear' yk yk