Tumgik
#sans x anomaly!reader
juniemunie · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
more deltarune sansnomaly cuz its feeding the ideas a lot
bonus:
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
majorpatheticcas · 15 days
Note
May I have this dance? 🌹
Tumblr media Tumblr media
"I gotta be honest with you, kid. I'm not the smoothest dancer, but hey, at least we're dancing, right?"
Anon design by: @htsan
641 notes · View notes
greedy621 · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Sans fucked up png anomaly and dialogue idea from @htsan
961 notes · View notes
fudgelling-away · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
Let's get straight to the point. Some of my posts have been reblogged with demeaning tags. And yes, I can tell if it's playful bickering or plain nastiness just fine.
I like playful. I do not like angry and condescending.
Now, I wouldn't care if those were sent to me as a private message, but tags are read. by. other. people.
Do not dare to use my art to shame other people.
And if you think I am or anybody is oversensitive (I hate that term) - people look into entertainment for a reason. Life is hard. Everybody suffers one way or another. Many people are hanging by a thread. You never know what will make somebody snap. Life is not safe, so we go and try to find a little safe spot for ourselves with some nice people. When you get attacked there, it hurts.
I remember how it feels to be vulnerable and have the thing you enjoy soiled. I remember the exact moment I left one of my previous fandoms as a child and how ashamed it made me feel. It was like 10 years ago, but I remember what was said and who said it. Nobody was speaking up. There were friends, yes, but silent when something was happening, because they were afraid to be shamed as well.
Years later I have my voice now and I'm going to speak, be it through text or art. And if my work makes at least one single person smile and feel validated, then all the hours I have spent on it have been worth it. It's always worth it.
That's why I do not tolerate pointless cruel mean comments, no matter how small or mild. Get your negativity elsewhere and fix your issues so you don't keep spreading it.
And that is the only rant I am going to post on this blog.
Only more fluff from now on ♡
720 notes · View notes
n01r-kn1ght · 3 months
Text
A very late happy birthday to IJAG by @htsan
Enjoy this lil skele-smooch by the one and only snas understory >:3
366 notes · View notes
robots-are-kinda-hot · 4 months
Text
I’ve been wanting to post these for a while!!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
BEHOLD! tWO ANOMALY AUS!!!!
((Anomaly by @htsan!!!!))
to be honest, either concept could just be for a reader in general, but the first thing I thought of was sansnomaly so!!! yeah
feel free to ask me stuff about either of these AUs!! The general info is down below but I do have more ideas for these! Depending on how well this does I might make more drawings, but if you want more feel free to ask!!!!
So the Hades AU is pretty simple. Sans is our Persephone, getting dragged down to the underworld with us!! I chose to make my Hades anomaly a lonely and nervous person, but the anomaly is literally us, so the personality is up to you!!! You can choose to follow the stuff I put in text, or not. Either way it’s more sansnomaly :)
The second one is a little more obscure- it’s a Coraline AU! We give Sans this little world where he can be happy for a while before he returns (we aren’t gonna hurt him or anything like the Other Mother dw!!!) to his own! Also, there are multiple anomalies!! Unfortunately, we’re all stuck in the Other World. This causes some anomalies to… become a little unhinged. They still don’t hurt Sans, but they take on more and more spiderlike qualities as they get more and more possessive of Sans :( The anomalies who have more doll-like attributes still want Sans to stay with them, but if he is put in harm’s way they will let him go.
Also, yes the spider anomalies have the Other Mother’s hands. Those things are fucking gorgeous how could I not
192 notes · View notes
lemonchip · 20 days
Text
Tumblr media
Down bad
png anomaly design by @htsan
119 notes · View notes
fuushhh · 11 months
Text
an idea I had in my sleep and wanted to draw it
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
little extra lower!!
Tumblr media
375 notes · View notes
desertrose244 · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
It's Just A Game by @htsan has got to be one of the most creative fan piece I have seen in ages! It's an interactive, choose-your-own-adventure fic and my goddd its so goooooooddd. You'll be using different sites (If you play your cards right) and its got 9 endings!
Its just such a cool concept, and a bit of a sad one :')
Go look at HTSan's art too please I beg of you
273 notes · View notes
amalia-uwu · 24 days
Text
Real
Undertale by Toby Fox
Drabble inspired by this comic
By @leafwateraddict
Just a small drabble. It came to my mind while looking at your comic! I hope you like it! Please let me know what you think! 💙
Warnings ⚠️ : angst, hurt no comfort, (sorry)
It's been 3 years now..
I look at you... You don't...
.... I've been imagining you. Writing about you. Drawing you...
But you are not real.
Why? Why must you hurt me like this?
Why must you break me like this?
Why?
How come you can be both a blessing yet a torturous heartbreak?
I wish... I could hug you.. even if just for a moment.
A real hug.
A real touch.
Just be real for one moment..
Please..
.........
................
You can't..
Heh...
Hehehe....
You can't.
Of course you can't.
What a fool I am for believing that... For even a second..
You are just a character I can toy with to satisfy my tendencies.
No matter how many vessels I have created. No matter what I do. You are not real..
You can't touch the real me.
I've been a foolish human for believing that.
Life can be cruel. So cruel..
I look at you to take a little comfort. I stretch my hand in anguish.
You can't comfort me.
Why must you beak me like this?
WHY CAN'T YOU BE REAL?!
WHY ARE YOU HAUNTING ME LIKE THIS?!
WHY MUST YOU BE A TORTURE!?
I looked at my phone.. At the picture I have of you and me.. Fat hot tears blurred my vision. They roll down my cheek.
With an anguished angry roaring scream
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAGGHH!!!!!"
I threw my phone on the wall.
The screen cracked..
Just like my heart and soul.
Like my emotions for you.
Why Sans?
Why can't you be real?
WHY CAN'T YOU BE REAL ?!?!?
I fell on my knees. You can't hear my anguished cries.
You can't comfort me.
I can't even draw you well...
It's been a couple of minutes? Who cares...
I crawled to my phone. I see you from the cracked screen. Heh, seems like you do too..
.... Im sorry Sans. I wish things were different...
I put my phone away.
I got up and walked away..
With nothing but a heavy heart and a shattered soul..
.
.
The end 😘
Thank you for reading! 💙
If you have a different scenario you may tell me or write it, draw it.
Comments, Constructive Criticism, Feedback, fanarts, fanfics are welcomed! 💙 Just please don't use vulgar / bad / blasphemous language.
14 notes · View notes
hyacinthmonster · 1 year
Text
Mild rambles at first)
I love Sans. He's been who I daydream about the most aside from his bro Papyrus whom I simply don't daydream as much of.
I was obsessed with Undertale when I was younger so I know alot of small things about the game and different AUs because I thought that stuff was super cool, but everything eventually got all muddled together in my head. Sometimes I'm unsure if I actually have any idea of how the cannon characters would act or I mix them up. I probably do fine with my interpretation of all the characters. Well almost all. I have no actual humor, I don't joke that much aside from sarcasm and even then I don't often. So Sans is my favorite, but I can't get his character right, ever, when daydreaming unless it's a him that doesn't really make puns or anything like that. Even then it feels a little off somehow. So I ended up making this: Aggregate!Sans.
Aggregate means "1. a whole formed by combining several (typically disparate) elements... 2. a material or structure formed from a loosely compacted mass of fragments or particles." (Definition from from Google dictionary.)
This is the rough draft I made but I'm uncertain if I should clean it up and post it or just make it for my view alone. The anomaly is a slight self insert, I'm just kinda warning I suppose.
(clicking will probably make it look better)
Tumblr media
Just not sure what to do...
I mean I'll probably continue drawing him for me from time to time but I kinda wanna share, I suppose this is me seeing if anyone would be interested in it. I still might post about him from time to time just not in this kinda way...
95 notes · View notes
galaxiesofobsessions · 3 months
Text
So I just watched this movie called “Auggie” and it gave me an idea of an Sans x Anonmaly:
Imagine your an AI that can only be seen through virtual glasses. Sans buys these virtual glasses just so he could have somebody to talk too.
He can’t believe his sockets. A virtual person only he can see. This can be platonic, romantic! But the truth is…
….your not real. You never were real and yet how he feels about you is…
Anyone can expand beyond this I’m not good at writing.
8 notes · View notes
roosterforme · 10 months
Text
The University of Sugar | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
Summary: You take Bradley to a work happy hour, but nothing about it makes him happy, since your boss is clearly flirting with you. Was that man blind? Could he not see your engagement ring? Bradley was ready to fuck some sense into you. And you were so willing to let him.
Warnings: Fluff, swears and smut
Length: 2700 words
Pairing: Beer Boy and Sugar! Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)
This is a one-shot to accompany my fics Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time! This was written for a request. Banner by @mak-32
Check my profile for my masterlist
Tumblr media
Bradley was exhausted. He'd had such a long week, stayed on base late almost every day. He was ready to get undressed, take you to bed, and pass out for at least twelve hours. But when he unlocked his front door and walked into the living room, you were standing there in a cute little dress, all made up. Maybe he could squeeze in a quickie before he passed out. 
"You look like you're ready for me to take you to bed," he said with a smirk as he started to untie his boots. But then he remembered something that you had said... about... a happy hour? Fuck.
"You need to get changed. I don't want to be late," you told him, checking the time on your phone while he groaned. Now he remembered. He promised you weeks ago that he'd go to the happy hour with your coworkers from the math department at San Diego State University. But right now, he was dying to get in bed and stay there.
"Sugar," he whined, "Baby, I'm exhausted. Can't we just stay home?"
"No!" Now you didn't look pleased at all as he made his way closer to you. "Go get changed, Beer Boy."
He wrapped you up in his arms and pulled you snug against him. "Come on, Baby," he crooned. "Doesn't our bed sound better than happy hour? I promise I'll make you cum. Twice."
You kissed him and smirked devilishly. "I'll hold you to that. After we get back from happy hour."
"Fuck," he groaned releasing you and heading to the bedroom to get changed. There was no way he was getting out of this one. He was going to have to chat with your coworkers all night. A bunch of boring math nerds. Because there was no way there was more than one hot, interesting math nerd at your school. You were an anomaly. You'd cornered that market. 
Plus, Bradley just knew he was going to feel like an idiot all night. You were smarter than anyone he knew, and it would be like a bunch of clones of you walking around sounding extremely intelligent. He didn't even know what he was going to talk about. 
"Ready?" you asked with a smile when he reemerged from the bedroom. You took him by the hand and led him out to the driveway. "I can't wait for you to meet everyone."
---------------------------
It was worse than Bradley thought it would be. Apparently the median age of college math professors was eighty. He held tight to his bottle of beer while you introduced him to way too many people whose names he would never remember. He tried to smile, but he had to stifle a few yawns while he followed you around the small auditorium on your campus.
Everyone knew you. Everyone liked you. Everyone wanted to talk to you. Which was all fine and dandy until Bradley got cornered in conversation with Professor Rosenthal while an extremely handsome man walked up to you and gave you a lingering hug. 
"Who the hell is that?" Bradley asked, completely cutting off Professor Rosenthal.
"Oh," he sputtered, turning to see where Bradley was looking. "Oh, that's Professor Philip Harding. The department dean." 
Bradley's brain was buzzing now as he watched Professor Philip Harding put his hand on your lower back while you laughed. You had mentioned him before. Many times. You told Bradley that you frequently ate lunch with Phil on the benches outside your building next to the rose garden. Bradley was the one who lovingly packed those lunches for you.
He watched as you slowly took a step out of Phil's reach. "That's a good girl, Sugar," he muttered, now completely ignoring Professor Rosenthal. 
But Phil closed the gap and was already next to you again. Was this guy blind? Or just stupid? Did he not see the engagement ring on your finger? Could he not comprehend that you were in a relationship?
"Fuck," Bradley growled, glaring at him as he set his empty bottle down and tore across the room. Phil was tall, dark and handsome, and Bradley knew you liked that kind of thing. Plus, if he was the department dean, he was probably as smart as you were. 
Jealousy pulsed beneath his skin as he came up behind you and wrapped his hand around your perfect hip. "Hey, Sugar," he rasped, leaning down to kiss your neck. He loved the way you melted into his touch, but Bradley kept his eyes on Phil who cleared his throat loudly. 
"Hello," Phil said, looking at Bradley with a thoroughly unimpressed expression. But he could just fuck right off, because Bradley wasn't impressed either. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Dr. Philip Harding."
You smiled up at Bradley. "Phil is the department dean. And his office is next to mine." Then you turned to Phil, and Bradley had to watch his gaze dip down to your chest as you said, "Phil, this is Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw."
"Her fiancé" Bradley added, rather too loudly. 
Phil just smirked at him. "Ah, yes. I believe I've heard mention of you before. You work on submarines or something?"
Bradley clenched and unclenched his fist. "I'm an aviator," be ground out. "A pilot. I fly an F/A-18."
"Right," Phil replied cooly before turning back to you and asking you a question about your calculus lecture. And then Bradley had to stand there and listen to you laugh while he felt like a complete idiot. 
After a few moments of listening to Phil's annoying voice, Bradley pulled you a little closer and said, "Please excuse us," effectively cutting off the conversation and luring you back toward the refreshment table.
"What's wrong?" you asked. "You're acting so weird."
Bradley's eyes bugged out. "I'm acting so weird? Sugar, what the fuck, Baby? That guy is flirting with you right in front of me."
"No, he's not," you replied with an eye roll. "He's always like that."
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" he growled. "Because it does not. In fact it makes me feel worse."
"He's harmless, Beer Boy. I eat lunch with him all the time."
Bradley managed to speak through clenched teeth. "The way you described him, I pictured a geriatric nerd with a receding hairline and fucking dentures!"
You burst into laughter, planting your hand on his chest as you cackled and gasped for hair. 
"He's not old at all!" Bradley complained.
"No," you said, trying to reel in your laughter. "I think he's forty."
"He's handsome!"
"So are you." Your hand slid up to the back of Bradley's neck as you grinned at him.
"He wants to fuck you!" 
"So do you," you replied calmly. "You're jealous."
Bradley took a few deep breaths. He would never, ever admit to that out loud. "He touched you," Bradley growled. He didn't even care if he was causing a scene right now. You were going to be his wife, and he would be damned if Phil didn't leave here tonight knowing damn well where he ranked with you. 
"I told him to stop," you said sincerely. "I don't think he'll do it again."
"He better fucking not."
You leaned up and kissed Bradley's chin. "I can't believe you're jealous of him. You have no reason to be." You searched his face and sighed, that needy little sound you made when you were ready to go. "I love you. And you look so hot right now."
Bradley's cock twitched for you, and he pulled you snug up against him so you could feel that he was hard. You moaned softly, and Bradley glanced over to see that Phil was looking this way. 
"Let's go fuck in your office," Bradley told you, possibly loud enough for someone to hear. And then he kissed you hard, slipping his tongue into your mouth until you were pulling him toward the door. 
"I don't know what's gotten into you tonight," you whispered, ducking your head as you led him out into the hallway. "But I'm not mad about it." 
Bradley followed you down the hall to your office as you clicked along in your high heels. He was very familiar with this room, and when you unlocked the door, he pushed you inside but not before he noticed Phil was also in the hallway. 
Bradley winked at the other man before he slammed the door shut behind him. You had a smug, needy look on your face as the fluorescent lights started to warm up and brighten the small room. 
"You're mine, Sugar," he stated simply, caging you in against your desk. "And next time you eat lunch with Phil, I want you to think about this," he whispered, reaching down so his hand was underneath your dress, grabbing the back of your thigh and making you break out in goosebumps. "And this." 
You moaned softly as he gently pressed his lips to yours in the sweetest kiss. "Bradley," you whined as his hand slid up to the front of your underwear. "I thought you were exhausted from work."
"I got my second wind," he promised, leading his gentle kisses along your jaw and to your ear. "Now pull your underwear down, bend over, and tell me how hard you want it."
The strangled noise you made had him laughing before he sucked on your neck. But sure enough, you started yanking down your own underwear, and then you turned your back to him. 
You looked up at him over your shoulder, smiling sweetly as you said, "Hard."
Bradley was working on his own button and zipper as quickly as he could. "That's my sweet Sugar," he crooned, and you bent over your desk, moaning his name. He carefully pulled your dress up so your ass was beautifully on display for him. His cock was gliding through your wet pussy as he gently kicked your legs a little further apart. 
You wobbled a bit on your high heels as Bradley ran his big palm along your ass, cupping and squeezing you. "Bradley," you gasped, wiggling yourself back against his hand. 
"You want it hard, Sugar? First, you need to promise me that if that asshole Philip Harding ever touches you again, you tell me immediately." Bradley knew his tone was a little rough, and when you met his eyes over your shoulder, you nodded. 
"Okay." Your voice was soft, just like your skin beneath his palm. Bradley squeezed you before spanking you one time. "Bradley!" you screeched, biting your lip and moaning. 
"Promise me," he demanded. "He never touches your lower back or any other part of your body ever again." His fingers skimmed up along that exact spot on your back.
"I promise!" you groaned, still pressing back against him. Bradley thrust into you, hoping like hell that Phil was still out in the hallway. He wouldn't mind one bit if the department dean heard everything he was doing to you. And if your current volume was any indication, then perhaps everyone else in the small auditorium would be able to hear you, too. 
"You wanted it hard," he grunted, absolutely slamming into you. "You're mine. Gonna be my wife."
"Yes!" you screeched, grabbing along the top of your desk, trying to hang on as he fucked you. Bradley ran his hand along the spot where he spanked you feeling the warmth there. 
"You're smart, Sugar," he praised, slipping his hand around to your clit and bending so his front was pressed to your back. "Now tell me who you belong to."
"You!" Your voice sounded a little hoarse, and he could hear it quiver as his fingertips spanked your clit. 
He growled next to your ear as he alternated between tapping and rubbing. "Say my name."
"Bradley!" 
"Good girl," he praised, pinching your clit until you screamed. And then he spanked your pussy through your orgasm, tapping just hard enough that your legs started shaking. 
"Fuck," you groaned, the single syllable loud and drawn out as Bradley took you by both hips and fucked you so hard, you were whimpering. 
"Mmm," he hummed, palming your ass. "I'd love to cum all over your pretty face right now, but you'll get that when we get home. I'll spread it all around. Mess up your makeup and let you lick my fingers clean."
"Bradley, please?" you begged, but he spanked your ass and shook his head, fucking your harder as he got close. "On my face!"
"No. You insisted we come to happy hour, and it's already going to be obvious what we did without my cum all over you, Professor Sugar."
"I love it when you call me that," you crooned, clearly enjoying this entire interlude. "Now fuck me until you come."
It didn't take long after that. He came inside your tight pussy, painting it up and chanting your name. His hands were tight on your hips, and as soon as he withdrew, Bradley knelt down behind you. He kissed along your ass and your thighs as you tried to stand upright on your unsteady legs. 
"Easy," he crooned, watching his cum drip out of you as he eased your cute underwear back up your legs. You spun to face him as he pulled your dress down. Your hair and makeup were a mess, your lips were a little puffy, and you couldn't stand up straight. You looked down at him, still kneeling before you. "I love you," he promised as you let your hands rest on his shoulders. 
"I know, Beer Boy," you whispered, voice hoarse from screaming. "I love you, too. And I love when we fuck in my office or the study rooms on campus. It's kind of our thing."
Bradley stood and kissed you softly. "Academia really suits me. I went to the University of Sugar."
You bit your lip and giggled as he led you toward the door. He took your left hand in his and spun your pretty engagement around on your finger as you made your way back to the happy hour. When Phil exited the men's bathroom a few doors down from your office and wouldn't make eye contact, Bradley smirked. 
"You were loud as hell," Bradley informed you just before rejoining the group. "And you look so fucking dissheveled, I can't wait to bust a nut on your face later."
"Beer Boy!" you gasped, following him with wide eyes as Bradley made his way back to Professor Rosenthal with a fresh drink. He had accomplished what he set out to do, and now Phil would think twice before he touched you again.
"So sorry we got interrupted before," Bradley said to the older man. "What were we talking about?" Then he listened to Professor Rosenthal talk about the politics of the math department, his upcoming retirement and his hip replacement. And all the while, you kept eyeing Bradley with a very satisfied look on your face. 
----------------------------
"Okay, Beer Boy," you muttered to yourself, sitting on a bench in the rose garden next to your building on campus. You were unpacking the lunch Bradley had made for you, which included a note with huge handwriting.
Sugar, Can't wait to get my hands all over you later. Love, Beer Boy
You snorted and tucked the note into your pocket. This is what he did now. Every day since he met Phil, Bradley wrote you a dirty lunchbox note. The first note last week had been about how Bradley wanted to fuck you in the Bronco when he picked you up from campus. And sure enough, he had done just that, in the parking lot behind the student union building. 
Of course Bradley knew what he was doing, because Phil had accidentally seen that note. And he hadn't eaten lunch with you since then. But now you were waiting for your new lunch pal, Professor Rosenthal.
"You win, Beer Boy," you whispered, texting him a photo of the note along with a little message from you.
I want your lips and tongue, too. 
You smirked and ate the lunch he packed you, excited to get home later. Excited to marry Bradley. Excited for everything. 
----------------------
Love checking in with Beer Boy and Sugar from time to time! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32
@hotch-meeeeeuppppp
@swthxrry
@chassy21
@yaboid19
@solacestyles
@avoirlecoupdefoudre
@daisyhollyxox
@throwinsauce
@awesomebooklover17
@wintercap89
@whosyourgnomie4
@rosesinmars
@blog-name6996
@bcon24
@wishfulwithwine
@backinwonderl4nd
@tetragonia
@gingerbreadandpaper
@emptyloverofmine
@apparently-sunshine
@chaoticassidy
@missmirandafe
@changlingkhat
@sugarcoated-lame
@callsign-jupiter
@avada-kedavra-bitch-187
@katiebby04
@marantha
@averyhotchner
@abaker74
@andycanbeemotional
@heli991113
@k-k0129
@noz4a2
@tallyovie
@shanimallina87
@starlightstories
@teddyluvs2sing
@little-wiseone
@ccbb2222
@lilyevanswhore
@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o
@xoxabs88xox
870 notes · View notes
jessamine-rose · 9 months
Text
‧͙☽˚⋆⁺*˚꒰ Moonrise ꒱˚*⁺⋆˚☾‧͙
Surprise, surprise, the epilogue for The Spider and the Fly was finished early!! To everyone who loved Yandere! Miguel x Variant! Darling’s story, pls enjoy this short continuation which takes place after the events of ATSV (◞ꈍ∇ꈍ)◞
Tw:: YANDERE, unhealthy relationships, self-deprecation, Stockholm Syndrome, mention of nsfw, babytrapping
Note:: Female reader, ATSV spoilers, LYLA and Darling definitely have BFF keychains
♡ 1.6k words under the cut ♡
Tumblr media
“He did what?”
“You heard me correctly.” LYLA flickers in front of you, her expression serious. “He escaped to another dimension. So now Miguel is looking for Miles in Earth-1610 while everyone else is scattered across the multiverse.”
“I see…” Your gaze drifts to the empty side of the bed. You can’t help but feel both worried for your lover and impressed by Miles Morales.
“But here’s the good news: Your desk wasn’t damaged when they chased him around HQ! Though you’ll be very busy once you get back to work. There will be a lot of multiverse jumps in the next two days, not to mention damage control.”
Never mind, Miles must be stopped as soon as possible.
The mere thought of all those incoming reports is enough to stress you out. What more for Miguel with the fate of the multiverse?
“And of all days, this has to happen while I’m on sick leave.”
As if on cue, you are interrupted by another coughing fit.
“Do you feel worse?” LYLA quickly does a medical scan, but your results are only slightly better than yesterday’s. “You should get more rest.”
You drink more water, shooting her a grateful smile. “Thanks for the update.”
In the dim bedroom, Miguel’s AI assistant is the brightest source of light. The Nueva York skyline appears gloomy, owing to the heavy rain. Is the weather similar in Earth-1610?
“Is Miguel going to be okay? It sounds like he’s already been through a lot.”
“You know how he is. He won’t go down without a fight.”
She’s right. And based on the records of Miguel’s previous missions, Miles and The Spot will be dead once he catches them. It will be difficult to watch.
There is a moment’s hesitation before LYLA continues speaking.
“He left a message for you: ‘Get well soon. And don’t try anything funny while I’m gone.’”
Now that puts a smile on your face. “Of course. Tell him I understand.”
Two days, less supervision. A stronger ______ would definitely plan an escape attempt while Miguel is distracted, notwithstanding the tracking devices and LYLA’s surveillance. But such an opportunity is wasted on you.
If anything, you already miss him.
…Though it is nice to imagine a break from Miguel. There are only so many warnings, so many hours of his sole company, so many ruined sheets and scarlet restraints before your apprehension resurfaces. His love is as intense as it is twisted.
Regardless, the previous months have been the happiest days of your life. Not even the increase in Anomalies could get between the two of you. There is a certain bond to be found in stressing over the same reports and drinking gallons of coffee together and getting jointly reprimanded by LYLA for “overworking yourselves, amongst other forms of self-neglect.”
Your status in the Spider Society has also changed thanks to the public knowledge of your relationship, sans the dark details. It hasn’t really bothered you, apart from the friendly jokes and knowing looks you get before your regular visits to Miguel’s laboratory.
Thinking about it now, Gwen Stacy has also asked for your help in convincing Miguel to let her visit Miles. Hopefully, she is doing well in her home dimension.
Then again, she is much stronger than you. She can handle this.
A holographic screen pops up. Reading it, you follow the scheduled reminder and take your medications. At least your cold has subsided.
LYLA watches you. “You’ll make a full recovery in no time. I’ll inform Miguel.”
“That’s good to know. Can you please relay another message to him?”
“Sure, what is it?”
“‘Good luck. I’m counting on you.’” You finish your cough syrup and close the screen. “‘And please take care of yourself.’”
Even today, he made time for you. A spoon-fed breakfast. A hands-on medical examination. Caldo de pollo and other healthy pre-cooked meals. Brief video calls. A text message explaining that he would come home late due to The Spot, now unsent.
“At least it means I can delay the news.”
LYLA gives you an inquisitive look. “What news?”
You open the bedside drawer and take out a used pregnancy test.
She gasps. “Are you…?! But your medical scan—”
One line.
“Oh.” She double-checks the device for confirmation. “Another negative, huh?”
“Yeah.” After returning it to the drawer, you lie down and wrap yourself in more blankets. “Can you keep it a secret this time? I want to tell him myself.”
“Sure.” She looks at you with renewed concern. “Hey, you okay? It’s not your fault.”
“I know.”
Still, you’ve grown tired of seeing the same result or more precisely, Miguel’s reactions. How many more times can you watch his gaze shift from hopeful to disappointed? By now, you’re already taking fertility drugs and discussing adoption—not that there’s anything inferior about the latter, but your Variants were able to conceive their child. Why can’t you?
Just last week, you noticed a medical article amongst his holographic screens. Miguel had highlighted a paragraph about the connection between stress and fertility. You don’t know if the research was for you or him; but either way, nothing can be done about that.
Worst of all is the relief you feel every time you see that single line. It feels like a secret betrayal, the final shred of your sanity in collaboration with your reproductive system.
“How did she do it?”
“What?” LYLA gives you a confused look.
You lie on your side, facing her. “My Variant. I mean, she was obviously healthier and also in favor of having kids, but…how did she manage? Wasn’t she ever scared of making a mistake with Gabriella? Is it even possible for us to raise a family as happy as theirs?”
“Hey, you’ll figure it out.” She gives you a kind smile, the perfect simulation of sympathy. “It’ll be Miguel’s first time, too, you know. Your pregnancy, your baby, and everything else will be just as new to him. And you can always count on Jess or Peter B for advice.”
“He did say that I’ve warmed up to Mayday…though she still prefers Miguel.”
“Nah, that’s only cuz he lets her treat him like a playground.”
Sitting up, you look around the room. It has undergone a few redecorations since you’ve moved in, under Miguel’s permission and LYLA’s encouragement. Everywhere you look, your personal items are mixed with Miguel’s.
The desk holds a jewelry box, one of your first belongings in Nueva York. The bottom drawer holds an assortment of rings, most of which were purchased on your last shopping date.
It wasn’t anything romantic. For someone who can read several reports and statistics at the same time, Miguel looked almost overwhelmed by the variety of clothes and accessories which caught your attention. LYLA’s opinion was more helpful and fashion-literate.
…He did call you pretty in the fitting room. The comment was totally unprompted for a dress which looked no different from your usual outfits. Up until that point, you had been observing your reflections with a mix of critical looks and pleased smiles.
After blushing, you quickly brushed it off as a matter of preference—LYLA did say that he likes your personal style more than your Variant’s. It’s more suitable for Nueva York.
Never mind that his gaze was on your face, not the dress.
Maybe one day, a special ring will be added to the jewelry box. Hand-picked by Miguel, made of any material except pearl, a perfect fit for your ring finger. It will be deserving of a place in the hidden compartment, where you keep your collection of pretty red spiderwebs.
When you receive it, it will be a special moment exclusive to you and your Miguel O’Hara—the versions of you who met on a moonlit night in the shadows of New York City.
Whatever happens, he still loves you. You, despite your flaws and every trait which sets you apart from his Variant’s wife. That is a promise you can believe in.
The room is too cold, so you adjust the air conditioner and take out another blanket. It won’t be as warm in Miguel’s absence.
You should get more rest. The sooner you recover, the sooner you can get back to work and give him one less thing to worry about.
After his mission, you’ll welcome him home as always. He will reciprocate your kisses, call you by your special nickname, and appreciate the food you prepared—his favorites, to celebrate another saved universe. If he looks tired or stressed, you will be the one to comfort him.
…Then you will show him the pregnancy test.
The hope will appear and vanish from his gaze. There will be reassurances directed at both you and himself. Miguel will give you a hug and soft kisses, which became part of the routine after the second test. After that, he will move on to a new topic or suggest a movie night.
Then during your next ovulation, you will be confined for a different reason. You will have to deal with Miguel’s company, his passionate touches, his lovesick declarations, his desperation for your own version of domestic bliss. A small, pathetic part of you has begun to look forward to it.
If he defeats The Spot and Miles Morales.
“Hey, LYLA?” you whisper.
She moves closer to your face. “Yeah?”
“If this continues…he’s not going to alter my DNA, is he?”
“…That’s the last resort. But we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”
Prologue ft. Wife! Darling ๑ Side Stories
So did I jumpscare y'all with the early release of Moonrise?? It’s part of a double feature with Sunset, hence the contrasting titles and simultaneous ideas. But aahhh little did I think that I'd finish this fic ahead of schedule~
Lots of love to my beta-reader @diodellet!! And thanks again to everyone who expressed their love for my Miguel O’Hara writing. May my next idea be less painful for all of us :’>
Tag a Miguel O’Hara enjoyer!! @yanmaresu @yandere-romanticaa @yandere-daydreams @bweoo @kocherry @oofasleep @h2o2-and-baking-soda @yandere-wishes @hisachuu @weebsinstash @handsomeunderwear-art @literaree @pumpkin-toffee @curesi @miggyyyyohara @abyssalrot @letskidaddle @miguelswifey04 @skeleton-on-wheels0
483 notes · View notes
n01r-kn1ght · 9 months
Text
It’s finally finished-
Anyway, sans x anomaly y/n but their an alien instead
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
It actually turned out pretty good inmyopinion and it’s interesting to see how different the drawings look between the time I took
Anyway, this was heavily inspired by I Really Want to Stay at Your House from Cyberpunk Edgerunners
As well as @htsan ‘s human sans
Also background on its own cause I’m really proud of it
Tumblr media
566 notes · View notes
robots-are-kinda-hot · 4 months
Note
Hanomaly(?) Hades anomaly? Falls in love with sans because he is a skeleton, a symbol of death, yet he is still alive and well. A contradiction of its own.
They dont even know if Sans is a god or a mortal being.
awwwwe, I love that!!
Tumblr media
I can imagine Sans teasing the shit out of Hades for thinking he’s a god because he’s a skeleton monster. I can also imagine him right after, giving a millennia year old god (sitting in like. a kiddie chair or something) a lesson on how monsters, and how skeleton monsters in particular, work. …huh. maybe I should draw that sometime.
I’ve been watching clips of Steven Universe and ooooh, the diamonds… •/////• giant women… (fans myself) I wasn’t going to make Hades so big at first but once I got the idea I couldn’t resist
oh yeah, the original anomaly is by @htsan! (is it okay to keep tagging you for AUs like this? Or should I only tag you in original anomaly stuff?)
close ups under the cut!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
88 notes · View notes