so what you're gonna do is you're gonna trim the top off a bulb of garlic, using the knife's edge to take off the tip of every individual clove, that's important. you're gonna place the garlic face-up in a square of tinfoil, drizzle with olive oil, wrap completely in foil, place in baking tray, repeat with a copious amount of garlic bulbs. you're gonna put that baking tray in an oven set to 375-400°F, for 30-50 minutes, until soft and browned. you're gonna toast some good bread, slather generously with butter and honey, maybe a tiny lil bit o' salt. and then. you're gonna SQUEEZE. OUT. THAT. ROASTED GARLIC. onto the butter honey toast. and you're gonna eat it. food stolen directly from the plate of the gods. that's what you're gonna do.
The problem with being a Creative Person is I want to create all the things. I want to draw a little drawing. I want to write a fic. I want to write a book. I want to paint with watercolors. I want to paint with oil paints. I want to animate. I want to make something out of clay. I want to sew a dress. I want to play a song on the ukulele. I want to play a song on the cello. I want to play a song on the harp. I want to write a song. I want to write a musical. I want to make a webcomic. I want to make a video game.
I want to do EVERYTHING but I don’t have the TIME or MONEY or MOTIVATION
Can you do a follow-up one-shot of Alastor x Azrael! Reader during one of their secret rendezvous and Azrael visits the Hotel at night and the 2 are just dripping in romance and it ends with them making love and Alastor being a total dom and Az being completely weak for the Radio Demon (which I do not blame him for, Al has so much rizz)?
The room was dark when you arrived, the shadows in his suite pulsed softly. They didn’t frighten the angel; they never had. They greeted you like old friends, curling around your ankles like affectionate cats.
Wings retracted in a flicker of divine light before vanishing entirely, your hair tousled from the wind between worlds.
You padded further in. The radio demon’s suite was a strange place—half 1930s luxury, half liminal dreamscape. Alastor stood with his back turned, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, humming something half-forgotten. The stove flickered with a greenish flame. The scent of spice and smoke and something homey filled the air.
“My dear,” Alastor said without turning. “You’re early.”
The angel of death smiled, heart fluttering in that familiar, involuntary way. “I missed you.”
Alastor turned, face cracking into that smile—razor-sharp and too wide, but never cruel when it was for you. He wiped his hands on a towel and stepped forward, closing the distance. “You always say that, but I never tire of hearing it.” Alastor tilted his head.
You wrapped your arms around the demon’s waist and nuzzling against his shoulder. “It’s our anniversary, you know.”
“I know,” Alastor purred. “Do you think I forgot?”
He stepped aside with a flourish, gesturing toward the table. There, in the centre, was a steaming bowl of jambalaya. Rich, colourful, aromatic. A single candle flickered beside it, casting shadows that danced along the walls. A bottle of something old and sweet.
You blinked, touched. “You made this?”
He was still smiling, but his hands were restless—tugging his cuffs straight, fixing the spoon’s placement, fiddling with the napkin. Nervous. Excited. A bit embarrassed.
Your chest warmed. “You’re sweet,” you said, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. “You pretend not to be, but you are.”
“Horrible slander,” Alastor said with mock offense. “I’ll have to devour someone just to balance out the sentiment.”
The jambalaya had cooled slightly, but neither of them cared. They lingered over it, pausing often between bites to talk, laugh, and touch, not in grand gestures, but in small, grounding ways. A brush of fingers. A nudge of knees beneath the table.
Alastor poured the last of the wine, his eyes were half-lidded with contentment, his grin softening into something far more genuine than most would ever see.
“So,” You said, swirling your glass with a lazy motion, “I heard your last broadcast.”
Alastor perked up, as you spent the next few minutes explaining how entertaining his latest work was. Alastor let out a snort of laughter, then leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand. “And what about you, hm? How many pitiful, struggling souls have you plucked from this month, my darling?”
You leaned back in his chair, stretching with a hum. “Oh, the usual. A few plague victims – there’s this new virus now…. A retired assassin who died peacefully. A mime who choked on invisible popcorn. Seventeen accountants. And a little girl who asked me if I was going to take her teddy bear, too.”
Alastor’s grin twitched, just slightly. “Did you?”
“Of course not,” the angel said gently. “I told her Heaven’s full of bears. She smiled and held my hand the whole way.”
A quiet moment passed. The radio in the corner crackled softly, then settled. “You really do bring peace,” Alastor said. “Even to endings.”
“That’s my job,” the angel replied. “Well, part of it.”
The dishes clinked softly as you washed them. Alastor was in the living room, fiddling with the dials of a ghostly old radio. Occasionally, he’d call out some wry comment, about a rival overlord’s new scandal, or a particularly poetic obituary he’d read earlier but mostly, he just watched you from the corner of his eye.
When the table was cleared and the dishes dried, you padded into the bedroom. The bed was already half-made, covers neatly folded, your own favorite pillow placed beside Alastor.
It was tradition: on their anniversaries, you stayed for the night. You were excited to cuddle next to him again. You pulled the comforter up, smoothed it down. Adjusted the corners…and stopped.
Because there were arms around you…Alastor’s arms. “Al?” You whispered, surprised.
A hum answered you. Soft, almost hesitant. Alastor pressed close from behind, resting his chin against the angel’s shoulder. His hands were steady, one curling gently around your waist, the other trailing downward with slow, deliberate grace.
You inhaled sharply as fingers brushed over the front of your trousers. Not rough or aggressive. Just a touch, like testing the weight of a thought.
Your breath caught, cheeks warmed. “Alastor…” You murmured, unsure.
Because this wasn’t common. Alastor rarely participated in intimacy beyond kisses, not that you minded. After centuries, you found sex a secondary thing to indulge in. Their relationship had never needed that kind of closeness to be whole.
Alastor didn’t speak. He just held you closer, lips brushing the line of your neck. The angel placed his hands lightly over Alastor’s. They were cold, but they always had been. And right now, they were trembling slightly.
“You okay?” You asked, voice hushed.
A pause. Then: “I nearly died, you know.”
You closed your eyes. “I know.”
“I didn’t feel afraid for myself…I kept thinking,” Alastor murmured, “that I hadn’t touched you enough.”
Your heart ached, tender and full. “You don’t owe me this,” you said quietly. “You never have to give me more than you want.”
“I want this,” Alastor said, almost stubbornly. “Not because I think I should. Not because it’s expected. But because… I want you.”
*
You laid on your back, skin flushed with heat and breath caught in your throat, muscles trembling beneath Alastor’s careful touch. You were coming undone with every stroke of the demon’s clever fingers.
Alastor’s eyes glowed faintly, a slow pulse of red watching every twitch, every gasp, every need. He didn't move quickly. No—Alastor liked precision.
His hand, cool against the heat of the your cock, moved in deliberate rhythm.
“You’re beautiful when you tremble,” Alastor murmured, voice low, thick with something dangerous and intimate. “Do you know that?”
You moaned softly in answer, hips rising instinctively. But Alastor’s other hand pressed them down against the bed—firm, unyielding, a reminder of who held the reins.
“No, no, darling,” he chided gently, leaning in. His lips brushed against your ear. “You stay still. I like watching you fall apart for me.”
You whimpered, eyes fluttering. Alastor chuckled.
“That’s it,” he whispered, tongue flicking the shell of your ear. “That’s the sound I wanted. That pretty little noise...”
You gasped and Alastor’s hand moved faster in response, reading every twitch of muscle like sheet music.
He adored this.
Not because it was about sex—it wasn’t, not really. He had no hunger for it in the traditional sense. But the control, the delicate orchestration of power, sensation, surrender? That was a performance worth savouring.
You were panting now, thighs shaking, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the unbearable pressure of nearing climax. Alastor leaned in again, grinning against your throat.
“Go on,” he breathed. “Come for me, my angel.”
And with a strangled cry, you did—arching into his touch as cum spilled across Alastor’s hand, your whole body pulsing with release. When it was over, he kissed your cheek. “You sound even better than I imagined,” he whispered.
“Well,” he said with a sly tilt of his grin, “I do believe there’s the matter of reciprocity to consider.”
You blinked up at him, lips parted. “Huh?”
Alastor climbed onto the bed like a cat circling its prey, but with unmistakable affection behind his glowing gaze. “You didn’t think I’d let you be the only one spoiled tonight, did you?” he purred, pressing a cold palm to your bare chest. “No, no, my dear. You owe me.”
You flushed again, still bliss-dazed, still sensitive. “Owe you?” you echoed, weakly. “I’d do anything.”
Alastor’s grin sharpened. “I know.”
He leaned back, resting against the headboard, legs spread with deliberate ease. His tone dropped to something darker. “Show me.”
You moved without thinking. You slid between Alastor’s legs, eyes flicking up as you undid the buttons of his trousers. When you finally took him into his mouth—warm, reverent, slow…Alastor exhaled, a low, satisfied hum.
And then… they emerged. Tentacles. Black as ink, they slid into the air, four of them, long and coiling. You moaned softly around him at the first touch; a cold caress sliding over your back, down your spine, over your hips.
One tentacle brushed your hair away from your face. Another traced his waist. The third coiled around your thigh, possessive. The fourth ghosted along your throat, not choking, just… reminding. You’re mine.
Alastor let out a breathy chuckle, his hand resting lightly on your head as he looked down. “My darling… so obedient. You really are a perfect little angel, aren't you?”
You whimpered at the praise, hollowing your cheeks as you moved deeper, more eagerly now, wanting to please. Needing to. Every moan, every soft sound from Alastor, was music you lived for.
The angel of death, usually so composed, was trembling as two of the demon’s inky-black limbs coiled around your thighs like snakes, holding you open while the other two worked more intimately, squirting a green liquid on your back hole to lubricate it.
You gasped as one tentacle nudged your entrance, cool and firm, but yielding just enough to press inward slowly.
Alastor loomed above him, as though he were watching a private show—his show. His smile was wider now, but soft. Genuinely pleased. “Look at you,” he murmured, fingers ghosting along your jaw. “You’re positively radiant.”
You whimpered as the second tentacle began to slide in beside the first. A sharp stretch, but not painful. It was… full.
You clutched around him, breath shallow. Alastor leaned closer, lips brushing against your ear. “I wonder,” he whispered, “what it feels like for you—an angel so pure, letting a sinner claim you like this.”
You moaned in answer, a shudder rolling through you. You could barely think. Every muscle in your body was locked in anticipation, back arched, knees shaking from how good it felt. One curled inside to stroke at that sweet spot deep within, and you trembled.
Alastor chuckled darkly, pleased. “Ah, there you are.”
You turned your face, flushed and panting, eyes glassy. “A-Al… please…”
“What is it, sweetheart?” Alastor drawled, clearly knowing full well what. “You want more?”
The tentacles pulsed. Squeezed. Slid just an inch deeper. You almost sobbed. “Yes—yes, please, don’t stop—!”
Alastor leaned in again, tongue darting across your lower lip, savouring the taste of your begging. “My dear,” he whispered, “I’m only just beginning.”
The pace quickened slightly, more fluid, more rhythmic, like a perfectly timed melody. The stretch, the friction, the fullness…it built into something overwhelming. You could feel heat coiling in your stomach, pleasure curling tight around your spine.
Alastor held you gently, almost lovingly, watching every reaction. You whimpered as the tentacles pulsed again, pressing firmly against that aching spot inside you.
“I… I want to make you feel good too,” you breathed as you pulled away, not able to concentrate on sucking him off.
Alastor tilted his head, amused. “Oh, you are, darling. Watching you like this…so undone, so obedient—it’s positively exquisite.”
The pressure built rapidly now. Your cock was hard again, leaking, untouched. But you couldn’t reach down, another pair of tentacles held your hands in place. You could do nothing but feel. You took him in your mouth again, determined to make him come too.
The demon reached down, brushing damp hair from your forehead. The tentacles pulsed again, swirling in perfect rhythm inside you, each movement hitting that overstimulated spot with maddening precision. Pleasure bloomed so intensely and then—it crested.
Your muffled cries were uncontrollable as you came, back arching. Your release spilled across your stomach, hot and shaking, mind blank with the force of it.
But you weren't alone at that moment. You trembled beneath him, mouth still wrapped around Alastor’s length, you felt it— when you cried…the sharp twitch in Alastor’s hips, the sudden tightening of his grip in your hair.
Alastor let out a low, fractured moan as he came with a shudder, spilling into your throat in rhythmic pulses. You swallowed it without hesitation, without thought, obedient and dazed, riding out the last waves of your own orgasm as you held Alastor gently in your mouth.
The tentacles began to withdraw, slowly, carefully, sliding free with a wet, obscene sound. You gasped at the emptiness, at the cool rush of air against oversensitive skin. You collapsed into the mattress, boneless and dazed.
Alastor joined you moments later, curling around your body. He kissed your temple once, softly. “You did wonderfully,” he said.
You could barely speak. You curled into Alastor’s embrace, trembling with aftershocks, heart fluttering. “I love you,” you whispered, barely audible.
Alastor went still. Then, quietly, almost against his nature, he responded. “I know.”
Can you do a one-shot of Alastor in a secret relationship with male! reader who's the Angel of Death, and by that I mean they're like Death itself (as anthropomorphic personification) not only the Angel of it, oh and also in myth the Angel of Death is named Azrael, so that will be what reader is referred to, and also Death! reader is super sweet and loving and chill and a complete sweetie, just with a Gothic hippie vibe?
Alastor x Angel of Death!Reader
CW: Alastor gets injured, m! Reader is simp for Al
Word Count: 1.5k
Notes: Thank you Anon, for this unique request! You didn’t mention if it was sfw or nsfw so I’m leaning towards sfw. I tried to do my best. Fun fact: in some myths, Azrael has 4,000 wings!
On my Ao3 as well.
You descended with the rest of the army, since you’d heard that Adam was planning to target Hazbin Hotel first since Princess Moringstar came to the heavenly court. When you’d insisted on coming along this extermination, Adam had shrugged. “Good for you, Azzie. Get your freak on.”
You recognised Alastor’s shield. You almost smiled.
Adam clearly has had enough of being left out of the battle. “I'm fucking over this.”
Adam launched himself forward in a single, brutal movement. The air cracked around him as he drew back a fist–Boom. One punch. Just one. A shattering burst of golden light tore through the air, and the shield—your Alastor’s beautiful, delicate, stubborn creation—split apart with a crack like a mirror giving way. It didn’t explode. It dissipated.
The hotel stood exposed. Alastor still hadn’t moved. Your stomach twisted. You didn’t show it, of course. You stood there, still and unreadable as ever. Death didn't panic.
Your eyes found Alastor again. He was still smiling—but his posture had shifted ever so slightly. He wasn’t showing it. Not to Adam. Not to the army. Not to anyone. But you knew. You always knew. And gods, you wanted to hold him right now. To brush the smoke from his cheek and say, you did well, darling.
You didn’t move. You couldn’t. Any sign would damn you both. But slowly, so slowly, you let your hand fall from where it had been resting on your belt. It slid just to your side, fingers open. A silent gesture.
He twitched his sleeve, just once. Like dusting off his cuff. I see you too. I’m okay.
It was the only reassurance you would get. Alastor takes a few steps forward to meet Adam. “Adam! First man, next to die.”
“Who the fuck are you?”
“Alastor. Pleasure to be meeting you, quite a pleasure. I'm about to end your fucking life.” Alastor taps his cane on the ground, causing four tentacles to rise up around him.
You really should’ve focused. But your heart did a stupid thing. Your fingers flew to your face instinctively, covering your mouth like you were suppressing a gasp of horror—but it wasn’t revulsion that bloomed in your chest. Because if you opened your mouth, you might sigh his name like a lovesick idiot.
It was a very specific, deeply unprofessional thought: He looks so hot right now.
God, you were weak.
You turned your face slightly, hand still up, as if shielding yourself from some blasphemy. Anyone looking would think you were repulsed—maybe even disapproving.
Alastor caught it. Of course he did. His gaze slid toward you, just a flick, just a hair’s breadth of motion—but his grin curled just a little more wickedly, like he could see right through your little mask of disgust.
He knew. And oh, he was going to make you suffer for it later.
Adam didn’t even try to mask his scorn as he turned to you. “Well?” he barked, his voice edged with impatience. “Aren’t you gonna help me kill that red freak or something?”
You let out a long, exaggerated sigh, lifting a hand to inspect a chipped black fingernail like it was far more important than the obliteration of your lover ten yards away. “I’ll watch,” you said smoothly, voice calm and dismissive. “You seem very enthusiastic. Wouldn’t want to rob you of your moment.”
The lie sat so easy in your mouth, you almost believed it yourself. But you didn’t move to fight. Didn’t lift your scythe. Just folded your arms loosely across your chest and leaned your weight into one hip, looking for all the world like you couldn’t be bothered.
Inside, though? Your chest burned. Your throat itched with all the things you couldn’t say. Adam scoffed. “Figures,” he muttered, turning away. “I’m disappointed that Death is too pussy to fight.”
You didn’t rise to the bait. You just smiled gently, almost beatifically. A peaceful expression that masked how tightly your fists had curled behind your sleeves.
He didn’t know that “the red freak” had held you in silence while you traced the scars on his back. That the demon he scorned had kissed your forehead like it meant something.
It was divine to watch him fight. Alastor moved with improvised violence, sharp and wicked and rhythmic.
You stayed still, arms still loosely folded, pretending to be bored, but your eyes tracked every movement. Every step Adam took. Every near-miss. Every time that blessed blade arced a little too close to where it shouldn’t.
Your jaw clenched. You tensed. You would not let him—
Alastor’s eyes found you. And he shook his head. A small movement. Barely there. It stopped you cold. The furious ache of having to stand there—untouching, unspeaking—as the one person you loved most was in danger…you’ve taken various souls, but never felt anything. But this helplessness was a new feeling.
Adam was done. “I'm going to wipe that shit-eating grin off your face, CAUSE RADIO IS FUCKING DEAD!”
Adam swings his guitar, sending a shockwave towards Alastor. When it dissipates, Alastor’s microphone has been snapped in two. While Alastor is distracted by his microphone, Adam manages to score a hit on him, slashing him across the torso. Alastor flew backward, crashing to the edge of the hotel’s rooftop with a sickening thud.
Alastor picks up the two pieces of his microphone, trying to get back up but was too injured. You gasped audibly. You hadn’t meant to break composure. You’d been so good until now. But when that cruel wave of divine force shattered Alastor’s microphone, you felt your whole chest seize up like it had been punched from the inside.
And you didn’t think anymore. You moved.
In a flash of black feathers, you launched from your perch above, wings outstretched, shielding him. Alastor coughed behind you, low and ragged, and it broke you.
Adam staggered to a stop, blinking in stunned confusion. “…What the fuck?” His brow twitched. “What the actual fuck, Azrael?”
You didn’t respond immediately. Adam stepped forward. “Why the hell are you protecting him? You should be taking his soul, not slacking on your job as you always do!”
His eyes searched yours, and then they widened. “Oh. Oh, I get it now.” He laughed—a short, cruel bark. “You’re sucking the red freak’s dick, aren’t you?”
Behind you, Alastor groaned and tried to rise. “Azrael, don’t—”
“No.” Your voice cut through the air, steady and absolute. You turned just enough to glance back at him. Blood stained his vest.
“Don’t do this,” he rasped, voice fraying at the edges. “You can’t undo this.”
You gave him the gentlest smile.“No secret remains a secret forever, darling.”
Adam’s face twisted into something grotesque. “You traitorous little—”
“Enough.” You lifted your hand, shadows forming at your feet, dark and ancient and godlike. “I’ve played the role asked of me. I do not participate myself with feeble politics of heaven and hell. But it seems like you’ve forgotten to fear me.”
Adam stepped back, hesitant. You got up in his face. “My darling is not going to die today, but you surely are.”
Adam’s voice faltered. “There’s no way–”
You grinned maliciously. “It will be aided by my brother, Lucifer, no else. See you on the other side.”
Alastor’s shadow encompassed you as well. “Radio's not dead, but it is ending this broadcast.”
The world warped. Reds overtook your vision—velvet drapes, worn carpet, that warm, perpetual amber glow of the “ON AIR” sign hanging like a holy relic.
Alastor’s radio booth.
He stumbled. You were there instantly. “Whoa, whoa, Al—sit down.” You guided him toward the plush old chair in the corner of the booth, hands firm but reverent.
Alastor chuckled, though it came out a little breathless. “Ah, my dear, you should’ve let me take the hit with dignity. I’m no stranger to pain.”
You knelt before him anyway, fingers glowing faintly at the tips as you peeled back the shredded layers of his red suit. “And I’m no stranger to fixing it.”
He winced as you exposed the gash—a deep, divine-etched wound that still pulsed angrily. That weapon hadn’t been made to wound. It had been made to end.
“Still smiling,” you murmured, eyes flicking up to meet his, “even with half your guts trying to escape.”
“Old habits die hard, dear heart.” He tilted his head, grinning crookedly through pain. “And speaking of dying, I’d rather not, if you don’t mind.”
“Working on it,” you muttered, your voice softening. A warm, obsidian light glowed beneath your palms, slow and careful.
Alastor watched you in silence for a long moment. His crimson eyes flickered, something rare and unguarded flickering beneath them.“You risked everything.”
“Not everything.” You finally met his eyes. “You’re everything.”
His lips parted. That ever-present smile faltered—trembled, even.
You smoothed your thumb across his chest, near the wound that was now fading into an angry scar.
You leaned forward, resting your forehead gently against his.“I’m here. I’m staying. You don’t have to smile for me.”
He closed his eyes. “That’s the problem,” he murmured. “I don’t smile for you. I smile because you make me forget it’s fake.”
First art I post in like a month, and it's not even the typical stuff I draw either it's fanart for an obscure reddit thing.
The reason why there's two of them is because I got the character's entire species wrong the first time I drew him. Embarrassing. But now I've got two drawings to post, so.. yeah.
It's for a fanfiction called "Crawlspace", which is a crossover between The Backrooms and an r/HFY story called "The Nature of Predators". It's been a long time since I read NOP so I don't remember how good it was, Crawlspace is definitely good tho!
(Also, synopsis about it right here also)
I'm not sure if I should recommend it to my backrooms mutuals and followers, because I know you guys are more into monsters and entities, and the story doesn't really have any (unless you count some kind of eldritch thing as an entity?) I'm also not sure if you can just read and enjoy it on its own or if you need to read NOP first, and NOP has like, 100 or 200 parts to it. Yeah... good luck with that.
I still haven't gotten around to reading the very last parts of it, but be warned, there's scenes of violence, medical malpractice (is it malpractice if everyone thinks they're doing the right thing?), fictional drugs, and probably some other things I'm not remembering. Be advised.
"I can't get no sleep, so could you lend me some?"
Been a while since I got to do a full traditional drawing and actually fill the page up. I LOVE when pages are filled with random doodles or just scribbled messes!
Reminds me heavily of the feeling of doodling in class while completely zoned out...
Okay, how would Digital Circus characters (separately) react to their S/O being abstracted, only to somehow return in normal state?
Headcanons Return to normal state
🚪Pomni x Reader 🃏
Pomni was afraid of what might happen to her in this digital world. She was afraid that she would become one of the frightening, crazed creatures kept in the local dungeon. However, she did not expect that the one who abstracts would be you. She saw you turn into a frightening monster and Caine sent you to the others. The others were planning your wake the next day and Pomni was sitting in her room crying. The realization that she had lost you was hurting her a lot
Early in the morning, she left her room but stopped at your door. Pomni couldn't find the strength to look away, but when the door opened and she saw you, she screamed. Pomni wasn't sure if she screamed in shock or joy, but the next thing she did was hug you. You were fine. You were alive. She pinched herself a few times, trying to figure out if she was dreaming or not, but it wasn't a dream
No one knew how it happened that you came back, because you remembered how you ended up in your room. You remembered how your mind went blank, and then you woke up in your room. It was a real miracle. Pomni was sincerely glad to see you back, squeezing your hand. You were one of the people she immediately became attached to and the last thing she wanted to lose was you
It won't be long before Pomni stops waking up from nightmares where you disappear from her life again. Every time after such a nightmare, she hurried to you, even if it was very late. She needed to see you again and make sure it was just a dream
🪡 Ragatha x Reader 🎀
Ragatha witnessed several of her comrades leave them, but seeing you abstract was especially hard. You were very close to her, perhaps the closest person of all in this digital prison. But you left her too. She didn't know what exactly had led to this, but the fact remained. You weren't with her anymore and it hurt her a lot
In the middle of the night, she was woken up by a scream that came from your room. The most frightening thing was that it was definitely your voice. Ragatha ran to your room while the others were trying to figure out what was going on. She knocked on your room quickly, but when you opened the door for her, she couldn't believe it. You were fine. You stood in front of her with fear in your eyes, but it was you, as if nothing had happened
As it turned out, you didn't know why you returned to your normal state. You didn't have any memories from the moment your consciousness went out until you woke up in your room. Ragatha didn't know if you did something or if you were just lucky, but she was glad that you were okay again
Ragatha started trying to spend more time with you. She didn't want to lose you again, but she wasn't sure if she could prevent it. That's why she tried to at least spend more time with you, not knowing what might happen in the future
🐰 Jax x Reader 🗝
Jax treated many things with caustic indifference. He did not participate in the commemorations of many, but he was shocked when you became the one who abstracted. You and Jax were close and often spent time together, but now all this will not happen. Jax didn't show it, but it hurt. The realization that he had lost a loved one made his heart ache
He sat in your room and hugged your pillow. It was hard for him to accept that you were no longer there. It was like it was just a huge glitch in the digital world. He dozed off with his back against the wall, but woke up to a soft touch on his shoulder and your sleepy voice. You asked him what he was doing in your room. Jax opened his eyes to dispel this illusion, but you were really in front of him
He leaned forward, hugging you. You were real, you were alive. Jax didn't know if it was a dream, but if he saw you in a dream, he didn't want to wake up. It was hard for Jax to admit it, but he was attached to you and didn't want to feel the loss of you again. He asked how you ended up in the room, but you said you didn't remember either. It's like the last few hours have disappeared from your memory. Perhaps it was even better, because you didn't remember how you abstracted
Jax wasn't going to let that happen again. He wasn't sure exactly how, but he intended to protect you. You were his ray of light in this digital circus, and he didn't want to lose someone who made him feel better
🎭 Gangle x Reader 📝
Gangle was so glad when you appeared in her life. She was comfortable with you and didn't worry about anything. You protected her from Jax and kept her company. But your quiet time together ended when you abstracted. Gangle, upon learning about this, could not find a place for herself. It was as if a piece of her heart had been taken away from her. She was sitting in her room, unable to find the strength to leave
Sobbing could be heard from her room and she felt just awful. Your voice outside the door brought her out of her mourning. She raised her head, not understanding how this was possible, but hurried to open the door. You were standing right at her door. You were fine. Gangle couldn't hold back the tears and hugged you. She didn't understand how this was possible, and even if it was just a dream, but she was happy to see you again
When Gangle calmed down a bit, you told her that you had no idea what had happened. You remembered how your mind shut down, and then you woke up in your room. You didn't remember how you got there or what happened. Gangle told you in an uncertain voice what happened, causing surprise on your face. All you could say for sure was that you're glad you're back to normal
Gangle was afraid that you might abstract again, so she often worried about you. You were there for her so that she wouldn't worry so much, because you didn't want her to be distracted by her anxiety. You intended to be close to each other and try to protect each other from what might happen
👑 Kinger x Reader ♟️
Kinger has been seemingly the longest in the digital circus. He had seen many people lose themselves, but he was still relatively normal. Your appearance in this strange place made him happy, because he had a person with whom he became close. Despite all his oddities, you stayed by his side. He felt calmer around you. But that calmness collapsed like a house of cards when you abstracted
The fact that it happened to you knocked him out of his rut. His anxiety increased and he was more nervous than usual. However, he let out a real scream when he saw you. You walked out of the hallway where your rooms were, as if nothing had happened to you. He hid from everyone in his Impenetrable Fortress, perfectly hearing the joyful voices of others. But it was hard for him to believe that it was really you and not an illusion that his mind had created. Kinger was really afraid that if he believed that you were real, you would disappear
When the voices of the others died down, he heard soft footsteps, and then your voice. You didn't break in on him or try to get him to come out. You told him you were sorry you left him. You admitted that you don't remember what happened when your mind turned off, you don't know how you came back to normal, you learned about what you abstracted from the others. All you hoped for was that Kinger wouldn't avoid you
He opened the entrance to his fortress for you, where you sat quietly together. No one could explain how you got back to normal, but Kinger didn't want to figure it out. He was just glad that you were back
🖕 Zooble x Reader 🦿
Zooble rarely showed emotions such as sadness. They weren't insensitive and upset when someone abstracted, but the fact that you became the one who abstracted especially hurt them. They could not have imagined that losing a loved one would be so painful
For Zooble, you weren't just close. You were someone they liked to spend time with, someone they trusted. They intended to have your wake, but something happened that no one expected. You came out of your room as if everything was fine, and you didn't understand why everyone was looking at you so shocked, as if you had died and risen
Zooble told you about what happened to you. Their story shocked you. You had absolutely no memory of what happened to you, but you understood that there was no point in lying to them, especially about such a serious thing. But now Zooble felt much calmer, because you really came back
Preparing the wake didn't make sense anymore and Zooble spent even more time with you. They didn't talk about it openly, but now they have a fear that they might lose you. Abstraction seemed like something far away, but now they were afraid that it might happen again. Therefore, they tried to spend as much time with you as possible, I hope that this can somehow help prevent you from abstracting again
🎩 Caine x Reader 👀
Caine saw how one by one the players abstracted. He didn't treat it as something serious, like a lot of things. But it was different with you. He liked you, even though it shouldn't have been. But when you abstracted, he felt something that he hadn't felt before when it happened to others. He felt the pain of losing a loved one
All he could do was hide you with the others. He would have liked to change everything, to get you back to normal, but he couldn't do anything. But when he saw it, he thought it was a system error. It was only when he touched you that he calmed down. You were really alive, although he saw exactly how you abstracted
Neither you nor Caine knew how it happened. You didn't remember how you abstracted. You only remembered how your eyes started to darken and your mind started to shut down, after which you woke up in your room. Caine understood perfectly well that it was strange and he could not explain what had happened, but decided not to think about it, because it was much more important that you were there again
He discovered an understanding of what he felt for you and now he wanted to tell you about it. Caine didn't know if what happened to you would happen again, but he hoped that he could prevent you from turning into a monster and not lose you again
tags: hurt/comfort, reader survived abstraction, wholesome fluff, pomni is supportive of reader, romantic/platonic
you are an abnormality. something that shouldn't exist in the digital circus. unlike anyone before you, you survived abstraction, but now you're glitched, ending up with some weird and unpredictable powers…
when pomni joins the digital circus, she learns about you last, since everyone else is avoiding you. you're pretty dangerous after all, being so unpredictable
but pomni is still kind to you. partially because she doesn't grasp what's so dangerous about you. but she also can see how lonely you are, being left out by everyone else
pomni is the first person to really show you any kindness! sure, caine still talks to you from time to time, but even he avoids you, if it helps get the others on board with his adventures if you're not around…
through spending time with you, pomni learns about your (failed) abstraction and how it led to your current appearance. and while you hate how you are now, this is the only form pomni has ever known you in! to her, this is you. this is normal. and she… even treats you normally
even as you try to push pomni away, to protect her from you, pomni refuses to leave your side. she knows you are lonely and long for company. and even if you're dangerous, you would never hurt ANYONE on purpose!
pomni even tries to get caine to help you control your powers! your body isn't stable, so you often end up hurting yourself, in an attempt to protect others from your powers. but pomni can't bear seeing you hurt anymore. you've been through enough already…
Ok yes no im dead..everyone literally ignored asgore LIKE WHAAAAT not only tumblr but tiktok,youtube,ao3 and everywhere else TT like when i told my friends if they heard the name undertale they went "oh you mean sans?" ASGORE
but awweh imagine going on a date with him just you resting ur head on his chest after you two are done drinking tea and watching anime cuz I said so and him playing w ur hair
I have some words w this fandom
OH THANK GOD I WAS READY DO DO EVERYTHING AGAIN but I can't..my..doggy..can't leave ma boy alone smh
HAH I would help u with that..mcpeepaw..no-
Oh btw is ur Internet okay now? Just curious and obviously not hormny
-🧅
Wonderful you came by..
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A/n: Yknow I had to do it man,, it was too good of an opportunity not too, but my internet is still out so I won't be able to post anything huge but I can post smaller stuff!!
Warnings: None!!! Simply pure fluff drabble guys ily all
[ masc!reader | masc pronouns used ]
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With the sun dropping down behind the mountains and moon in the horizon it didn't take much convincing for a resigned king to drop the shears in a now empty watering can to simply stare at the lovely marigolds, stroked by the gentle light as if the world seemed to praise the flowers lovely existence, it caused the monster to let out a deep rumble in response catering back. Albeit odd to some within the gardens he'd spent day and night slaving over for the school their ex-wife taught at. The mere thought sent a twinge of melancholic memories to their poor mind, but it did remind the goat about something further important then twiddling his thumbs about the past.
You.. Oh, his darling, such a sweet boy you were truly. Wondering back into his mind like a tidal wave melted all feeling from his body only to shiver in the chilled air, but he seemed to be growing quite warm in the face with slight color peeking from beneath his sheen white fur. Brushing it off only to become more giddy with their movements as Asgore rushed to put away their tools for tomorrow and begin walking down the street back home, eager to see their little guy stare up at him with those lovely doe eyes, that somehow always seemed to be filled with pure adoration towards the king, oh truly did they feel smitten toward his human.
No matter how you two started, with the distaste and solemn sadness plastered in his being when you'd walked into the flower shop. Only for it to morph in confusion after pushing the bouquet you'd asked for far too many opinion on back into Asgore's hands after paying. Back then the certain fondness the boy had sent him before walking out without much more had left them wondering if you'd come back, and then you had. Every other Wensday you'd walk into the shop to buy flowers from him just to never accept it after paying no matter how much Asgore had seemed to insist upon you taking them. It became routine until the point he'd stop even asking you and plopping them into a vase next to the register with fondness, at least until not showing up for ovee half a year. It was so lonely as each Wensday at 5pm they'd sit in the shop simply awaiting you to walk through those doors just to rest you elbows on the counter with buttercups in hand as you'd compliment the shirt he'd put on that day.
It wasn't until Spring the next year Asgore would be graced to see the boy, who had them hooked from the first honey sweet compliment spilled from your lips slow like molasses driving them mad with curiosity and a certain sadness when it all seemed to go away, but what a joy it was after slipping into the store silently to walk up and hold out flowers you'd been growing in your own backyard in attempts to impress the retired king did realization hit them. Though once he did his precious baby boy pressed many kisses along their face passing soft praise and sweet nothings!
The ingrained memory always seemed to paint a lopsided smile on Asgore's face, once gaining sight of your shared home it took much restraint to simply sprint to the door no matter how much pain it'd cause later. Though with your previous scolding in mind the king had taken their time before breezing inside the home silently as to surprise you, but what he didn't expect was snacks to be on the coffee table and a warm blanket to be on the large couch as a TV was playing those add cartoons with a low volume almost sounding like static to their ears. Asgore couldnt help but feel his heart thump within their ribcage at the sight of you buried between the blankets sleeping peacefully.
Slipping off their shoes next to the couch and trying to lower themselves down beneath the covers with you only to have you stir away with bleary eyes from sleep to have a soft fondness at him being there. Oh such a sweet boy you were, after a few moments of you pressing small kisses to the back of the kings hands and a soft yawn you'd moved to sit in their lap with your legs splayed to once side resting your head on Asgore's chest to listen to their soft heartbeat gently drafting back into a blank nothingness of comfort. It wasn't perfect, nor did you two speak many words. But Asgore wouldn't trade times like this with you for the world.
And before the world divides between hating and loving our beloved Jax, I'm sharing this collaboration I did with my friend @kenyapf Who did the line art for one of the sketches in my sketchbook.
I'm not used to painting with such clean line art, so I have to admit the process was quite beautiful and fun 💖💖💖, One of the drawings that inspired me to create Jax's white rabbit was the design by @endomentendo 💖
Beelzebub's middle daughter and the leader of the Gluttony ring's army. Gladiolus is callous, cruel and enjoys endless sadism and destruction. She has a strong dislike for males and views them as nothing more than breeding/feeding machines. She doesn't get along well with anyone in her family except for her mother.
