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bolddeducktionneverfails · 3 years

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・゜-: ✧ :► 🌩 : ✧ :-゜・

Selene’s Statements About Della Duck

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When it comes to Della’s decision with The Spear, we’re meant to believe she was more excited about taking a quick joyride in orbit than prioritizing motherhood. We’re also supposed to believe that Della’s crash-landing was the thing that humbled her into being more family-oriented.

But even with the show being over, there are still some things about this that leave me unconvinced...I mean, yeah, it was very convincing after Scrooge gave his perspective of the ordeal, but as Season 2 progressed, I began to question this retelling...

Although taking the Spear was presented to us as this big, selfish mistake that Della has been trying to make up for and get past, other cases that resembled this story or touched on a contributing factor, didn’t quite treat it as such. Space-related imagery and the like continued to be brought up in the background; even after major events like Della’s return, Lunaris’ defeat and Penny settling her homesickness...it felt like there was something much more important that needed to be said beyond Bradford’s small mention in the finale.

If these other situations in the series truly were inspired by Della’s situation and if she was completely in the wrong, then there would have been more things to further cement this to line up with Scrooge’s perspective. If what he said was exactly what Della was doing, it should be reflected in these other stories as irrefutable no matter how you look at the situation. There shouldn’t be anything that makes us want to second guess...and yet, there’s enough room to think about this.

Dewey and Webby meeting Selene in her garden was one of the first moments I started to question when I looked back at it. As soon as a negative view of Della was said, Selene immediately, without a doubt, went against it by claiming otherwise. At this point in the series, it could have been argued that she was just looking at her friendship with Della in a rose-colored way, but as the time went on, a lot of the information she gave about Della became evident.

In a similar manner, it was once believed both inside and outside of the show that Della had died after getting lost in Space. But the Sphere of Selene itself was hinting towards the opposite; that she was actually alive on the Moon.

Let’s take a deeper look at what Selene was saying about Della here:

“So, we’re back to “she stole Scrooge’s spear and betrayed the family” then. Great.”

“Whaat? No way! She loved her family more than anything in the world!”

This was suggesting that Della was always family oriented, not suddenly after her arrival to the Moon. This is proven through the episodes we’ve seen with her as a child.

In “The First Adventure!”, Della stayed persistent in convincing Scrooge that it would be better to take Donald and her with him, than to search for The Papyrus of Binding by himself. Later after he agreed, both Donald and Della had to get after him for caring more about his business than enjoying the adventure he was having with them. In “Last Christmas!”, Dewey had to explain to Donald why Della was so upset with him. She had planned for the night to be spent going on a mission together but Donald misinterpreted her actions and skipped out to do his own thing.

Even in the Pre-Spear comics IDW provided, it was Della who was chosen to remind Donald about what it means to be family in Issue # 3. And while the comics don’t determine the canon, the writers who developed these stories were given insight about how the show’s universe works and how the characters are supposed to act. The writers in both the show and the comics could have easily slipped something into these stories to demonstrate how wrong Della was to go into outer-space at the time that she did. In the child episodes, they could have highlighted her selfishness directly by making her want to catch Santa to steal all of his presents or having her extremely eager to make her own request with the papyrus. Why would the showrunners miss out on that opportunity...twice? Why are other characters focused on being in the wrong, but she isn’t?

As an adult, it didn’t feel right to have Della fussing at Donald and Louie for taking significant leaves and not being mindful about the impact of their actions, if she basically did the same thing. It never came off as not wanting them to make the mistake she made, it always sounded like she would know better. She was so quick to point out this problem she had with others that it felt like she forgot about herself. On one hand, this makes her look like a hypocrite, but on the other, this gives off the notion that being selfish and leaving her family out of big events, is not initially a part of her nature.

The closest case we have to better reflecting the Spear situation is in “Trickening” where Della’s desire is at a level of uncertainty that could easily be misinterpreted. In this episode, she wanted to join in on what someone else was doing to give the trick-o-treaters a memorable Halloween. She was aiming to share her love of the holiday with them, but she was so caught up in making it special, that she didn’t realize this plan was way too intense.

Donald was completely opposed to it like he was with her space travel proposal. He wanted to make his sister understand that she was doing too much, but she ignored his concern and tried to push past him. If Della was supposed to learn that she should listen to Donald more, you would think she would have taken that into consideration much sooner instead of having a huge relapse. Della showing improvement after a major mistake would be too important of a thing for her to revert on, so, having a similar situation in “Trickening” was more than likely done to help us understand something about the Spear one better. As the twins fought, he begged Della to think of the kids and she stated this was exactly what she was doing. This suggested that Della had the same mindset when it came to her own kids.

So, as both a kid and an adult, she has been portrayed caring more about family than other things like adventure itself or some kind of item she could get out of it. If she loved her family so much, then what on Earth would make her leave during such a crucial time and jeopardize the chances of ever being with them again?

“Last Christmas!” showed us that Della doesn’t adventure out on her own unless she feels like she has to. If she didn’t go out in the snow after Donald refused to come with her, then she would have missed out on her chance to catch Santa as a present for Scrooge. Like her Santa hunt, Della originally intended for her space trip to be a family thing. If a parallel is meant to be made here, then that opens up the possibility that Della took the rocket so that she wouldn’t miss her chance to do something special for her family; more than likely, something for HDL’s birthday that could not wait. That could explain her urgency and lack of detail in the letter she left for Scrooge.

If she was just taking the rocket for a spin, she wouldn’t need to word her letter like that. She would have used it as a way to express her gratitude towards her uncle for having her project built. Why would the showrunners have her letter be like this purely for the sake of suspense if we’re supposed to be looking for clues? This is another thing that is too important for them to have pulled something meaningless here. If she had to leave a letter for Donald about naming the boys for her too, then it sounds like she was doing something that may not have been able to be done in time before their hatching. Or, I suppose, in case she didn’t make it back at all. Either way, both messages showed that she thought about the consequences beforehand.

In addition to the garden meeting on Ithaquack, something else that made me slowly change my mind about Della’s decision was how she had brought her copy of the family photo with her. Having it placed on the dashboard in front of her as she traveled through Space, seemed to imply that family was a driving force in her choice to continue in the direction of a storm she could have easily avoided. In Scrooge’s flashback, it seemed like Della was enjoying the challenge she was faced with before the rocket was struck. But when it came to showing her perspective, she wasn’t having a fun experience at all.

“Aw, Della wasn’t just a good person...she was the greatest! And she made everyone around her better.”

When Launchpad defined what it meant to be a Senior Woodchuck in “Challenge”, I immediately made a connection to what Selene had said. It’s a bit uncertain whether Della became a Senior Woodchuck or not, but she was still a dedicated member of the Junior Woodchucks and that sort of implies that she was someone who often looked out for others. This coincides with how Della encouraged HDLW in “New Gods” and helped to bring the children’s feelings of inferiority to Scrooge’s attention. Della eventually helped to make Penumbra a better person once the lieutenant realized that her jealousy and suspicion advanced Lunaris’ invasion. The betrayal against the pilot made her a hero in the eyes of her fellow Moonlanders again, but it was through a lie and that didn’t settle with her. Acknowledging the fact that she messed up motivated her to regain her heroic title in the right way.

None of the points that I’m bringing up in this is to say that I don’t think Della was flawed or that she isn’t really an impulsive character, but that maybe there was a different kind of mistake she made with her rocket plans than what we were being told.

“Maybe the spear isn’t an artifact...maybe, it’s something else!”

“Your mom did love a good mystery!”

This part makes me think of the riddle from Della that the boys would later find in “Castle”. It led them on a quest to find a lost crown, but similarly to The Spear, they found out that this treasure was never an actual crown--it was a sailor’s hat in a duffle bag. It was within the castle’s catacombs where HDL realized that the riddle was originally intended for Donald; another character who is supposed to be looked at as their parent. An imprint of the Spear’s blueprints were later discovered on the back of the paper Della’s riddle was written on.

The way Selene mentioned mysteries right after Webby wondered about the spear being something else, seems to suggest that Della’s disappearance could have been due to her wanting to solve a mystery of her own. In “Last Crash”, Scrooge did compare Dewey’s hunt for the missing photo piece with how he previously failed to keep his niece safe from the cosmic storm.

“Here. It’s not a spear, but it’s a treasure even Della never found.”

This feels reminiscent of Della’s old journal statement about how she never found Coot’s armory. In this episode, it was explained that her younger self was looking for something in relation to the non-McDuck side of HDL’s family. Webby wanted to follow in Della’s footsteps and bring the boys with her on an epic journey to finally resolve this mystery, but once they reached their destination, it landed them in a room full of corn instead. Because the treasure was expected to be materialistic rather than sentimental, the trip looked like a big waste of time. It wasn’t until a spark was set in motion, that the characters were able to acknowledge the importance of what they discovered.

I noticed many elements in “Coot” that could be paralleling things in relation to Della’s journey. On her side of the story, she was determined to complete the task of celebrating her family at the fort, but a setback prevented her from doing it sooner. There was also an cloudy formation that accompanied a crash as well as there being a moment where her vehicle needed to be reassembled.

If Della was looking for a treasure of some sort in Space, perhaps she didn’t reveal this afterwards because, like Scrooge was with her, she was embarrassed about her failure. Selene implied that Della was usually great at accomplishing cases like these but this one resulted in a major loss that caused a decade of separation.

“Don’t give up, young duck. Your mother never did.”

There is definitely no exaggeration about this. In spite of all her struggles, Della continued to press on until she made it back home.

As I was observing the occurrences in Season 2, I noticed that there were key moments about her departure from the Moon that line up with her departure from Earth. If she was working hard to get back to her family on Earth, then there could have been something about Space that she was working just as hard to get to. If there was a particular goal with Earth that Della wanted to include the Moonlanders with, then there could have been something particular with Space that she wanted to include her family with.

Della had to leave the Moon earlier than expected because an emergency came up. That creates a possibility that there was some kind of emergency that caused Della to launch The Spear from Earth sooner than she intended to. Both departures resulted in leaving groups behind and breaking a promise she made to them. Della was very concerned about what the Moonlanders would think about her being gone and while Donald was the one who made a promise about never spending another Christmas apart, she had to have agreed to it; she’s the one who made a big fuss in the first place. If Lunaris' claim of Della being a traitor was false, then there's a possibility that Scrooge's explanation wasn't true either. What could strengthen this is how he was wrong about Della in “Raiders” during its own parallels to the Spear incident.

Adding on to what I said about “Trickening”, If both of these situations were meant to be reflective of Della taking the Spear, then she wasn’t using the kids to mask a selfish desire, she was seriously doing it for them. Lunaris told the rest of the Moonlanders that Della made up her stories about Earth to trick them into letting their guard down, but that was never part of Della’s plan.

So from evaluating Selene’s statements we can gather:

That Della was always family oriented and that betraying her family for the thrill of adventure or the sake of something materialistic, is considered out of her character

Della doesn’t adventure out on her own unless she feels like she absolutely has to

Della may have taken the rocket so that she wouldn’t miss her chance to do something special for HDL’s birthday

Della’s letters to Scrooge and Donald showed that she thought about the consequences before taking the Spear

Della may have not avoided the storm because there was something in the direction of it that she was trying to get to

That even in the past, Della was someone with the tendency to look out for others and make them better people

There may have been a different kind of mistake she made with her plans than what we were being told

That Della’s disappearance could have been due to her wanting to solve a mystery of her own

That if Della was looking for some type of treasure in Space, there’s a higher chance that it was of sentimental value rather than what we would have normally expected it to be

She was more than likely looking for something in relation to another group of people who would also qualify as being part of HDL’s family

Della might not have revealed this afterwards due to her being embarrassed about her failure

Maybe she didn’t tell Scrooge and Donald the truth about her outer-space proposal because she wanted it to be a surprise

If the kids succeed in finding the armory’s gold with realizing it...perhaps in some strange way, Della may have unknowingly completed her goal too

That Della was always known as someone who persevered whenever she had her heart set on something

Della’s plans to enter Space may have played out in a similar manner to her plans to come back home

An emergency in relation to her goal could have caused Della to leave sooner

There’s a good chance that Scrooge may have been wrong about Della’s intentions

If there was nothing significant shown ahead in the storm, then what was Della working towards? Before this episode aired, there were comments here and there speculating that the cosmic storm was a wormhole that sent her into the future. I think that especially at this point, it could have been some kind of portal. The clouds were in the formation of a tunnel and an underground tunnel was what led to the golden armory, so, whether she realized it or not, the storm could have certainly led to the treasure she was seeking. It could have been a portal to a place that wasn’t easy to realize until you’ve passed through it. The Shadow Realm was a hidden dimension that made Lena seem invisible while she was trapped there. Or, maybe like the wormholes in “Neverrest”, the storm could have been a shortcut to another area of Space.

If Della had a bigger reason for taking the Spear then why didn’t the showrunners go into that before the series ended? Maybe in a similar way to Negaduck’s return, they wanted to get to that but something caused a change. Perhaps there wasn’t enough room to conclude it while also doing the same for Huey and Webby’s F.O.W.L. arc. Interviews with Vulture and SyFy Wire revealed that twenty minutes had been shaved from the original finale script during finalization as well as there being fifty-five-ish episode ideas leftover that we didn’t get to see.

Another potential option for the additional Spear information is that was always set aside in case Disney greenlit a fourth season. All of the other seasons provided something new about The Spear of Selene and the subject matter is deeply tied to the series, so it would be pretty strange to suddenly stop mentioning it in the next continuation. Maybe Huey and Webby’s arc needed to be focused on first because there’s something about Della’s decision that further connects the two. I’m just...really doubtful that we were given so much build up against the narrative with no intention of it paying off at some point.

I would love to go in fuller depth about what I think could be going on with Della’s story, but it’s SOOO much work to put everything together for evaluation...I’m not sure how long it’ll take to get it done. I started a multi-part essay about this two years ago and wanted to have it finished before Season 3 but there was too much left to finalize in the last section….

Right now, I can only manage to make singular posts like these and shorter...but there are older, slightly outdated traces of my theory if you look around my blog long enough.

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゜-: ✧ :► 🌩 : ✧ :-゜・

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mythicaldemigoddess-of-deltarune · 3 years

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Crossover Yandere Delta Warriors And Kris’s Three Souls

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Credit for Steven Universe Series goes to Rebecca Sugar

Credit for Deltarune & Undertale goes to Toby Fox

Credit for Hazbin Hotel & Helluva Boss goes to Vivienne “Vivziepop” Medrano & Spindlehorse

Credit for Yandere Simulator goes to YandereDev

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I do plan to post this drawing at the other place I post fan art at.

also the reason why Ayano has different color eyes,

has to do with the Genocide Route, Neutral Route and True Pacifist Route of Yandere Simulator.

like depending how we play, if we go full Geno-Route

our eyes, well Ayano’s eyes....become Red.

but if we befriend a rival and help other students, and not kill anyone in yandere simulator.....

Ayano’s eyes will become blue.

why Sans is wearing Steven Universe’s clothes and Pink Steven being right next to him should be obvious.

it has to do with Sans and Steven being one in the same.

and when the Human Half of Steven died, he was reborn as Sans

but the gem half that makes “Pink-Steven” reforms but Human-Steven is not close by and most likely left to maybe to go live with his new family, his new Dad that speaks in hands and his new little brother Papyrus.

the dark purple soul belongs to Knight, the light turquoise blue soul belongs to Kris, and the Red Soul belongs to the Player.

I believe that before the Player’s Red Soul ends up in Deltarune (in Chapter 1), the Knight who is the Dark Purple Soul had made Kris’s life miserable by pulling dark pranks on others, even if Kris could pull some pranks....they would not willingly cross the line, that would be the Knight’s doing.

yeah I have a theory that the Knight had done dark pranks by making Kris do them and making everyone believe it was Kris, while technically it was but at the same time it was against Kris’s will.

think about it, we never did any of those dark pranks that those in Deltarune mention.

so it makes sense that it is the work of the Knight, who’s soul has been controlling Kris before we got there.

and the only time Knight does take control,

is when they are about to do something sneaky and they rip our soul from Kris’s body and the reason why Kris doesn’t fight back is because the Knight is much stronger than them.

it is possible that the only time we are stronger than the Knight, is during the day time in the Lightner’s World and when we are in the Dark World.

but once Nighttime happens, the Knight has the power to control Kris and pull us the Players.

so if this is true, this means that Kris has two souls in them trying to fight for control.....one being the villain known as the “Knight”

and the other being us the Player, the Red Soul.

I see that as fan headcanon.

in theory if the Crystal Gems and Connie, didn’t know that Steven died and became Sans.....

like it happen some time after the end of Steven Universe Future.

Sans might have Alphys help with that, by cloning a homunculus steven body, that the Pink-Steven will be put in and make it so that no one knows Steven had died and became a Magical Talking Skeleton.

well that could be one way to keep the Crystal Gems, Connie, Greg and everyone else from Beach City from finding out what happen to Steven....if he had died off-screen and was brought back to life by Gaster as Sans.

I would like to see a crossover fan art with the meme

Gaster: *hugging Sans* stay away from my Son.

Greg Universe: but he’s my Son!!

Gaster:.........Stay Away From YOUR Ex-Son......who is now MY Son.

even if we love Steven Universe

(and some of us do love Steven Universe Future)

at least we now know now that the Steven Universe Future,

was NOT the start of Steven’s problems......it was just the boiling point.

Greg was not a great dad, something we should of seen from the start of the first Season but couldn’t.

I plan to re-watch the first series of Steven Universe, to really watch it

and notice the stuff that we never truly notice before....

like even if the Crystal Gems did make some mistakes with how they treated Steven most of the time during his childhood.

and Amethyst did start to become a better big sister to Steven,

like with the whole finding out his Mom is Pink Diamond.

even if not a lot of fans liked Steven Universe Future, because of different reasons....

but we have to acknowledge the problem Steven was having didn’t start in the Steven Universe Future.....it started in the first series.

even if Steven had his good days, he did end up with trauma and he didn’t see a doctor until Steven Universe Future....

which you can thank his “Ex-Dad Greg” for that.

most families have excuses for not being able to go to a doctor.

after becoming rich, Greg could of hired Steven a tutor

and send him to school.....though I don’t think you have to be rich to do that.....at least I don’t think so.

but we can’t place the blame on Steven, even if his Human and Gem Family loves him dearly....

it doesn’t help that Greg and Connie form a “Human Beings Club”

kind of excluding Steven and making him feel a type of negative emotion.

I believe what Steven was feeling when he also says “human beings.”

was a type of negative feeling, but like still wanting to be included in the human bonding that his Dad and Best Friend (Future Girlfriend) were having.

Greg was a bit disappointing in the episode where he took Steven to where his parents lived.....

just when Steven was becoming more better and even enjoyed finding out about his Dad’s past.....Greg only made things worse again,

when he couldn’t understand why his own son was upset with him.

there might of been more to the story of Greg’s Parents than what Greg told so far.....it is possible that one of Greg’s parents had very sensitive hearing and couldn’t handle really loud music.

and Greg could of broke that rule many times and that is why his parents don’t allow any music in the house.

even if that episode tried to play that Greg was a victim, it might not be 100% true.....

yes Pink’s punishments were unjust at times, but we have to remember how bad she was before she given Earth.

so most of her punishments were just, meaning she deserved them.

while other times she didn’t deserve them at all.

the problem might be that both Greg’s Parents

and Blue & Yellow Diamond, would punish Greg and Pink even at times when they didn’t deserve it.....

but it could be that before they did start punishing them,

they let them get away with so much and one point both of them crossed a line that it became too much for Greg’s Parents and even Yellow & Blue, and they had no choice but to ground them

to Greg’s Room and Pink’s Tower.

once again the problem with Steven

didn’t start in Steven Universe Future,

it started at the very beginning in Steven Universe.

the the boiling point maybe started in the Steven Universe Movie,

then the breaking point started in the Steven Universe Future.

not all fans of Steven Universe, have to like Steven Universe Future.

I happen to love Steven Universe, Steven Universe Future and the Movie.

but we have to try to come to terms that the problems Steven was having, didn’t start in Steven Universe Future.

it started in Steven Universe, and even if not a lot of fans will accept that.....well it is their choice, and they should accept it by their own free will to.

I do plan to re-watch the first series to see if Steven had more than one bad experience which would of been one of the first problems he had before his breaking point in Steven Universe Future.

I know at first I thought of the Steven Universe Future

as the time he had his boiling point, but in correction it would be his breaking point that would get worse over time.

the boiling point would be the first stage, which would start in Steven Universe Future.....when more of his mother’s past misdeeds would come to light.

the breaking point would slowly consume and get stronger for Steven, to the point where he would end up becoming Monster-Steven.

Steven becomes a gem monster because of all the negative emotions,

he only gets better once everyone realize what they didn’t do for him.

being there for him when he needs it.

at times we could pretend that everything is fine for others,

like acting like we are only a little sad but doing pretty okay now.

but that might not be for the best....even if we might think it is.

Sans might be a future version of Steven,

who had gotten better and learned from his past, but could still hold on to some form of bitter memories.

like what if the one calling Connie, when Steven proposed to her...

wasn’t Connie’s Mom but was a Boy that Connie was Dating.

and she still liked Steven, but couldn’t bring herself to tell Steven.

well hopefully that isn’t true and that was just Connie’s Mom.

we know that a lot of fans were worried for their ship.

well the Sadie and Lars Ship had became the Friend Zone Ship.

meaning it went from “I Ship It” to “I Bud It”

Shep seems nice though, when I did first see them on the opening I didn’t know if they were a boy or a girl.....

but it turns out they are nonbinary, so it’s nice that the episode where they officially appeared on (as well as their bio.) had confirmed Shep’s identity.

I think I still need to figure out the whole Gyno-Agender

or Feminine-Nonbinary thing.....

I wonder how many fans of both Yandere Simulator and Undertale/Deltarune.....

would think that Fun-Girl from Yandere Simulator,

reminds them of Gaster....?

well Fun-Girl does remind me of Gaster, it be nice if both games did canon crossovers.

well there is that Yanderetale,

but maybe that is only Semi-Canon.....maybe?

there is another crossover drawing I did, that has to do with Undertale/Deltarune and even another game....

but I will wait until tomorrow to post it.

hope some of you like this drawing.

I wonder if it be weird to Crossover ship Sans x Collin....?

I will think about it, but it might leave me a little sheepish. lol

#yandere simulator #pink steven #sans the skeleton #collin helluva boss #charlie magne hazbin hotel #ayano aishi #berdly #noelle holiday #susie deltarune #kris deltarune

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a-snow-decahedron · 3 years

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Late saturday fics tend to be a bit more impulsive than usual, but I've wantd to write this small idea I had and finally got around to it.

It's set in the same "universe" as "A Flower's Guide" But it can be read without prior context.

Read this oneshot on AO3

Who cares about a name, anyways?

The world around him had changed drastically ever since he awakened. He didn’t notice at first, though. His first instinct was to find someone, and after endless hours of calling out, his father heard his call. He didn’t look a day older than he remembered. And when the flower spoke, the monster’s eyes filled with tears. He said he had never seen a flower cry before. Let alone one that sounded so familiar. The flower told him his name.

“It’s Asriel.”

The man tried to hug his son as best as he could. He fetched a pot for the Prince, and took the boy home. He did his best to make the place better for Asriel. He got the dusty children’s books from the shelves at home to read before bedtime. Asgore carried the flower pot as they gardened together...

But this wasn’t his life. He didn’t love Asgore. In a way, he knew Asgore was his father, but it didn’t feel that way. There was a lack of love within him. He realized that he didn’t care. Nothing in that house felt like himself. Asgore tried hard to make it feel like nothing had changed, when things would never be the same. And he knew he was different when the royal scientist came home one day, and informed the king that he had no soul. Perhaps that was the reason he was like this?

It didn’t make sense to live with Asgore anymore, so he left. There had to be some place for him. An idea crossed his mind. Mom was gone… Or was she still “mom”? Maybe she had changed as much as he did. He knew where to look. He crawled into the soil of the King’s garden and moved, making a tunnel beneath the ground.

Eventually. he found Toriel. She didn’t look a day older than he remembered. But when he told her he was “Asriel” the pain in her face became apparent. She did what she could for Asriel. She showed the boy around the ruins she had made her home again. She took her child to the sunlight. She let the Prince rule over the piles of leaves with a fist of iron, in a metaphorical sense.

And yet, as much as she had become different because of pain. Toriel didn’t mean anything to him. He just couldn’t care.

A world without love is not worth living in. He decided his existence just wasn’t meant to be. And so, the same way a gardener cuts the weeds, he ended his life.

But something primal burning within him made him go back. He was back at the start. He knew where he was this time. He waited, and as the lights around him grew brighter, and left.

He followed this ritual many times. He learnt a lot about this world. Apparently, a lot had changed. He still called himself Asriel. Some people laughed like it was a joke, some of them cried like he was their son. Others praised his existence and he hated every second of it. Soon he realized: it wasn’t his life, and it wasn’t the life he wanted to live.

The name seemed to carry too much history of someone he would never be again. Chara would understand, they always did. They once told him they had chosen their name. That their old one belonged to someone they could never aspire to be. So maybe… he could choose one too? But just like Asgore, he was lousy at them. Nothing stuck.

One day, he met quite an eccentric monster. His name was Papyrus, and he trained every day with Undyne, leader of the Royal Guard. The odd thing about him was how different he was from everyone else. Everywhere the skeleton went, he was beaming with joy and curiosity. He seemed oblivious of the problems of the world. Therefore, his apparent naivety made him the perfect victim.

How would someone like Papyrus react to Asriel Dreemurr, Prince of All Monsters, now in the shape of a flower with a tragic backstory for the cherry on the top? Well, he just had to find out! A smile spread across his face. Perhaps he couldn’t really say Asriel was really him anymore, but he could just turn back time anyways if it turned out to be a bad idea. It was just a matter of wanting to do it.

“Howdy!” He made a rehearsed friendly smile.

“Hello there, little flower!” The cheerful skeleton turned to face the flower, pausing his puzzle calibration. “I’ve never seen a monster like you over here.”

“Well that’s because I’m new in town!” He feigned innocence. Should he mess around first or tell him his name right away?

“Wowie, what do you think of Snowdin so far? Do you like it? I, the Great Papyrus, can make a full tour for you!”

Or perhaps he could let the other guide the conversation, he thought.

Papyrus didn’t wait for his answer, and began talking non-stop about his day, his new puzzles and every small thing that came to the skeleton’s mind. Some of it was absurd, and sounded like he was trying to pull an elaborate prank but the punchline never came in, and the flower started worrying Papyrus really meant everything he said.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” The flower had let him do all the talking, but if he wanted to test his theory he couldn’t keep waiting. It was pointless, even if Papyrus's words had been interesting so far. Well, interestingly stupid, of course.

“Is there anything better than talking to my precious guest?” The plant creature pointed to one of the puzzles that still had its spikes retreated. “Forget about that, my brother can deal with it if he ever decides to get something done for once, nyeh heh heh”

“You don’t even know who you waste your time with!” He feigned indignation.

“What do you mean? You’re the only talking golden flower out there! I would recognize you everywhere!”

“I meant you don’t know my name! Are you an idiot? Braindead?”

“I don’t think that last one applies here.” Papyrus pointed to his skull.

“I don’t care!” The flower shouted harshly. Papyrus raised a brow. In a more stable tone, the flower continued: “Well, aren’t you supposed to know who you talk to? What if I was, say, the king in disguise, and you didn’t know?”

“O-ho! Interesting theory! Why would the king be here?” The flower wanted to bury himself on the snow and just give up already. Still, he had to at least try.

“Don’t be silly! Are you messing with me on purpose?”

“I am not!” Papyrus swore, shaking his head. “But I apologize for any offending act of rudeness from my person. After all, I strive to be as accommodating as possible. Nothing but the best.” He cleared his throat, how he did that without a throat to begin with was a mystery. He leaned down to face the flower eye to eye. “Who are you, flower pal?”

“Hee Hee Hee. None other than Asriel Dreemurr, Prince of the Underground.”

“Are you sure?”

“What do you mean by “are you sure”? Of course I am, I wear my name with pride. Just because I look different doesn’t mean I’m lying!” Papyrus analyzed him carefully, his empty sockets glancing at every inch of his stem and petals.

He looked reflexive for a moment. “I don’t get it.”

“What’s so hard to process? I just told you the truth! I just look different, unless you’re so ignorant you don’t even recognize my name…” The flower figured that could be the only explanation for the skeleton’s attitude. For him, usually just reshaping his face to look like his old one and using the same voice was enough proof for anyone who didn’t believe him right away.

Papyrus interrupted his thoughts. “But of course I do remember your name, my friend Flowey!”

Or maybe he was just dumb.

“Don’t you listen? Flowey is not a name and it sounds stupid!” There was no way Papyrus wasn’t at least pulling his leg... figuratively.

“Well I think you look like a Flowey!” Papyrus gave him his most sincere smile. “Or perhaps… Flowery is a good option? You could also be a Flowell…”

“This isn’t funny, I’m outta here!” He tried moving across the place, only to find himself trapped in a puzzle room surrounded by tall spikes. He growled, as the structure didn’t move despite the bullets he threw at it.

“Oh, how careless of me. Stay there for a moment!” He watched as the skeleton started digging around him, pulling him out of his hole. With utmost care, Papyrus lifted him. His stem shivered as he felt the change in perspective. He was always stuck to the ground. This was the first time he wasn’t.

“What do you think you’re doing to me?”

“Carrying you out of here, as you seem so eager to do.” Papyrus replied, and after a strong step of his boots, his body lifted from the ground.

The flower watched in awe as the skeleton walked in the air, perfectly avoiding the puzzle. Perhaps there was more to this guy? Was it really worth it to find out now? In the end, he figured he would eventually hang out with Papyrus too, whenever other people proved to be predictable. Well, why not keep this path now instead of later? He… enjoyed the view, at least.

Papyrus put him down and sat next to him. He patted the back of his head, behind his petals, like one would pat a child for comfort. “I’m very sorry, my friend. I’ve been rude to you.” The flower motioned for him to continue. ”It is just, you seemed a little conflicted back there. Did something upset you?”

No response.

“Flo— Asriel. I will never call you by a name you don’t want to again. I want you to know I really liked hanging out with you.”

“Whatever, I don’t care. Who are you to me, anyways?”

“Great question! A friend, perhaps. I’d like to be known as The Great Papyrus too! But do I know who Papyrus is, anyways?” Papyrus shrugged. “Perhaps what I should tell you is that despite everything, you’re still you! You will figure yourself out”

The flower narrowed its big black pupils, not quite sure what to make of the advice.

“Ah, already questioning things, I see. My lessons are working!” Papyrus stood up again, shaking the snow off his clothes.

“Well, friend, I hope we see each other again!”

The rest of the day wasn’t as eventful as that conversation. Papyrus words still lingered on his mind as he messed around with some strangers, and got someone to buy food at the town’s restaurant. Apparently, because of his conversation with Papyrus, he missed out on the debut of the fifteenth movie by the Underground’s greatest celebrity. Well, those were things he could look into now after wastingm this day. When he loaded his save, he went to Hotland instead, and talked to a couple of diamond heads about Mettaton’s debut.

One of them asked him for his name, so they could hang out the next day.

Impulsively, he replied: “I’m Flowey! Flowey the flower.”

Eventually, it just stuck with him. If people remembered or not it didn’t matter. It was just a made up name and it did the job better than saying he was Asriel ever did.

He kind of thought it fit who he had become.

Not a Prince, just a nobody.

Not a boss monster, just a flower

Not Asriel, with a whole reputation and history to weigh on his stem, just Flowey.

He chose that name.

And after a few dozen resets the story behind that name didn’t matter enough to be remembered.

#fic #geometric thoughts #flowey #asriel #papyrus #safeutdr #undertale #haha dont ask me what time it is

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popatochisssp · 3 years

Note

Heya Poppy! I’m loving the new gem headcanons and was wondering if you have a diamond au too? Or any other stuff about the new gems? I love this au so much

Ohoho, of course I do! I do have the new gems’ Backstories, but since you asked about the Diamond AU specifically... UwU

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...

Cubic Zirconia (Undergloom Sans) emerges alone, in an abandoned Kindergarten galaxies upon galaxies away from Homeworld’s (known) reaches. He doesn’t stay alone for very long, and not too much later, Moissanite (Undergloom Papyrus) emerges too--another gem.

...Not that they...know too much beyond the fact that they’re both gems. They certainly have no idea that they’re both products of diamond replication experiments at this outpost, commissioned by the (recently ceased) Void Diamond and forgotten when The War began and other priorities became more important.

But! They have each other, so even if their origin is shrouded in mystery and there’s nobody else here on this dusty, deserted rock of a planet, they both decide things could be worse.

They go about their lives for awhile, poking around in things, bonding with each other, making guesses about their species and civilization from their bare-bones programming and the artifacts of the Kindergarten.

It passes the time.

And then, one day, the seismic activity starts.

The two of them have no idea what’s happening or what to do about it; if there’s anything to do about it, and it’s a stressful few cycles before they get any solid answers.

Raw Diamond (Horrorfell Sans), clawing himself up through the ground from the deepest, darkest caverns of the planet, is about as ‘solid’ as an answer gets.

Cubic and Moissanite shouldn’t know the newcomer at all, yet they find themselves automatically saluting, calling him ‘My Diamond,’ and Raw...

Raw is just as confused as they are.

He doesn’t know what’s going on either, where they are, what he is, who he is… he simply is.

He couldn’t know that he’s a forgotten project of Void Diamond’s, too, a new diamond meant to join the ranks with him and Brown and Gray as their empire expanded and needed more leadership. He was simply left in the ground to incubate without being refined or even cut.

(He's monstrous, huge even for a Diamond, and oddly formed with a crooked jaw that won’t open and a hole in his skull…but Cubic and Moissanite hardly know any better than he does what he’s supposed to look like, so no one makes any mention of it.)

Freshly emerged and very lost, it goes without saying that Raw wants answers. The Imitation brothers have a few, but nowhere near as many as he’s after, and he stubbornly demands to be shown around the Kindergarten and the outpost, to see it for himself.

And it all lights up for him in a way it never did for the two that came first, doors and sensors and screens coming to life, responding to the signature of a true diamond. There’s brand new access to everything, reports, records, files and procedures… they learn a lot about what they are, what they’re supposed to be and what they’re not.

They also learn how true diamonds are made, in full and not just halfway.

Raw is certain this is the answer. Cubic and Moissanite are the first of their kind, they barely have any programming, but a diamond…a diamond done right and not left unfinished like he was, surely they would know more and be able to make sense of…whatever it is they’re not getting.

The brothers aren’t totally convinced... but admittedly, they don’t have any better ideas and well…rough he may be, but Raw is a diamond…

Champagne Diamond (Horrorfell Papyrus) unfolds himself gracefully from a craggy cliffside on the abandoned planet, massive in size but otherwise perfect—and he does have some answers.

Champagne knows he is a Diamond and he knows of gemkind. He knows of their society and of their directive to expand their empire.

…What he doesn’t know is the answer to Cubic’s well-meaning query of ‘...what empire?’

Champagne has no clue where the hell all the other gems are, where this little rock is in relation to the Empire, if the Empire even still exists if this place has been abandoned as long as all the charts and data logs say it has been.

He wants answers as much as Raw does, possibly even moreso…but to even start looking for them, they have to get the hell off this planet.

As it turns out, what he lacks in inherent knowledge of their status and origin and social structures, Raw has a real knack for gem-tech, understanding the principles and functions of even the old and mostly broken down devices they have access to, enough to design a passable space-faring craft that they all pitch in to build.

The first world the quartet comes across is empty now, but was once uniquely occupied by both gems and by organics. There’s a handful of gem structures, Kindergartens, bases, et cetera--long abandoned and in disarray of course, but hiding lots of new data and potential clues to mine about what happened to gemkind, and more importantly, where the fuck Homeworld is...

(Like the lost city of Punt, it seems that nobody ever thought to store something as obvious as Homeworld’s coordinates anywhere in the days before warp pads--why bother? Everyone knew where it was.)

There’s a lot to repair and sift through, a whole planet’s worth of it, and there’s only four of them, so it’s probably going to take awhile…

So when Raw finds some old notes that this planet would be a good candidate to incubate a diamond if not for all the useful organic life on it, he nudges Champagne and jokes that all the organic life is gone now, maybe they should…?

To Raw’s surprise, however, Champagne is intrigued.

It could be something worth thinking about, actually… Another pair of hands, another set of eye-sockets… a diamond would be a costly investment, both time and resource-wise, but certainly more bang for the buck than a mess of soldiers or technicians that they really don’t need…

Plus, it’s something to do while they scour the whole damn globe for everything of use on it.

So... might as well try it.

A nice chunk of forest is summarily leveled by Cloudy Diamond (Horrorswapfell Sans) when he decides he’s good and ready to emerge—and while he’s certainly an extra pair of hands for the group, the eye-sockets…didn’t really work out the way they’d thought.

Cloudy, it turns out, is blind as a bat, a defective diamond—but still a diamond, able to interface with and access everything the other two diamonds can, if guided to it.

He sticks with Cubic and Moissanite, mostly, a quid pro quo sort of arrangement that works for everyone, at least until everything of use and worth is mined out of the artifacts of the planet, and it’s time to move on to the next lead: what seems to have been a military base on an almost entirely aquatic world.

Cloudy isn’t interested in visiting a water-world, not for a long-term stay like they’re talking about. He prefers solid ground beneath his feet at least most of the time...and he actually has very little investment in their Quest for Homeworld, so he decides that he’ll stay here.

The others question if he’s sure, and even offer to leave at least Moissanite with him to help him around, but he refuses. Aside from not feeling altogether right about splitting Moissanite and Cubic, Cloudy has his pride and he’ll manage just fine. He is a diamond, after all!

And so off the others go to the military installation.

Raw has a great time digging around in all the decaying ships and weaponry, Cubic and Moissanite explore the things left behind by the gems that were once upon a time stationed there, and Champagne researches.

Cloudy’s defect...weighs on him, though...

(Possibly because they kind of…created the poor guy, imperfect, and then left him there, which sucks… but Champagne is a diamond and doesn’t have half the emotional intelligence to realize the injustice of that is what’s bugging him.)

He somehow decides that it’s the defect itself that’s bothering him, that he failed to create a 100% functional diamond. But he didn’t fail, he could do it, if he tried again…which he’s not going to do, just to prove a point, to himself even and not anybody else!

………

That’s exactly what he does.

Pink Diamond (Horrorswap Sans) rises from the sea one day, kicking up a tsunami in his wake, much to the surprise of the others who were definitely not kept in the loop on this matter.

Champagne, for his part, is unapologetic and unashamed: Pink is a total success, strong and complete and perfectly formed (aside from, perhaps, the occasional, very minor glitching of his physical body... but that can surely be put down to all that water he was incubated beneath, smoothing his intended rose-cut over time into something more like a cabochon. That’s nothing to do with him...)

Pink, for his part, is happy to help and join the search for answers.

He dives right into it all without complaint…until…

Well...

Seeing Cubic and Moissanite, and Raw and Champagne…they get along so well, and his recent arrival hasn’t opened up any space for him in their dynamics.

He’s very pointedly the odd man out, and it’s enough to make a diamond quite lonely, quite aware that he’s the only gem here without a brother to call his own.

………

Taking a page from Champagne’s book, telling absolutely no one, Pink sets out to squeeze one more diamond out of this big ball of water, even though the planet’s resources are low after his emergence.

It’s not long before Olive Diamond (Horrorswap Papyrus) is slogging out of a dark, wet swamp, assisted by his brother—which is appreciated, because he seems to have a hard time keeping his legs to retain the ‘hard’ part of ‘hard light projection.’ Sometimes they’re solid light and sometimes they’re only light and maybe that’s what happens when you try to make a gem from a planet that’s running on empty...

Pink is delighted by his new sibling all the same!

Even so, a rule is made amongst the gems after that and agreed to by all: nobody makes anymore gems without telling somebody, no more surprises!

………

In retrospect, they probably should’ve decided on that rule a lot sooner, maybe a planet ago.

By the time they all return to the ghost world with a stockpile of newer tech and ships, they find Cloudy in the middle of a fully-operational and tidied up base, with everything rigged to accept voice commands and read out text, and a brand new shadow hovering around him.

Pepper Diamond (Horrorswapfell Papyrus) emerged from the ruins of one of the abandoned cities, Cloudy explains, and has been very helpful in the others’ absence, wonderful company—he told them he’d manage fine. > 3c

Well.

After all of that, the military base had been their last, best clue to finding Homeworld, or at least the remains of it, if gemkind were truly gone…

After a bit of discussion among the group, they decide to take communicators and ships and anything else they wanted/needed and just…go their separate ways, to do their own things.

Cubic and Moissanite set up shop on the first world they can find with sentient organics that will accept them, wanting to be around other people and to live peacefully.

Raw and Champagne choose to stick to their mission, going on the wild goose chase that is the search for other gems somewhere in the universe, even without any solid leads—the gem empire was expansive, but not As Infinite As the Universe-expansive, so they haven’t had any luck yet.

Pink and Olive are curious about other gems, too, but make it their mission to hunt down all the deserted bases, Kindergartens, and outposts in their neck of the universe and fix them up, restoring everything to its former glory as best they can—whether those places are promising in terms of leads/clues or not. It’s their heritage and they want to explore it and restore it, if they’re able.

Cloudy and Pepper intend to stay put on their birth world…but when Cloudy’s done everything he can on their planet, he gets a little bored sifting through the ruins of this dead world and wants to go find somewhere with living organics to stay instead. Pepper (reluctantly) agrees and they stumble upon a fledgling, primitive society that seems to think of these giant, shining and glowing immortals as some sort of deities… Oops, it seems as if they’ve started a colony of sorts on accident!

They’ll all keep on keeping on, and if anything interesting happens or someone needs a hand, they can reach the others to get back in touch.

…

Unbeknownst to the Outer Galaxy diamonds or the Diamond Authority back on Homeworld, a strange pair of Chameleon Diamonds—one Reverse (Gastertale Sans) and one Classic (Gastertale Papyrus)—are spat out of a singularity, somewhere in a galaxy in between.

They’ve got a lot of knowledge between the two of them, in the skulls behind their briolette-cut gems, but not a single solid memory, and their only clue is a whole lot of wreckage of some strange machine scattered around them in space.

They don’t know what they are, where they came from, how they’re alive, or what all this junk is…but once they make their way to a planet with gravity and stuff they can fashion tools and parts out of, they do figure out that they can cobble together a ship out of all this...

What better use of a couple of brothers’ time than a bit of adventuring, leisurely exploring the universe and any interesting lifeforms or civilizations they find along the way, with little more than respect of the Prime Directive to argue about? ;3

#skelegems #diamond au #undergloom #ug!sans #ug!papyrus #horrorfell #hf!sans #hf!papyrus #horrorswap #hs!sans #hs!papyrus #horrorswapfell #hsf!sans #hsf!papyrus #gastertale #g!sans #g!papyrus #Anonymous

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taglegend · 3 years

Photo

Tag Fact #3 - I’ve come to realize I’ve always been a fan artist more than I thought. so here is a timeline of influences that shaped my childhood to now. from nostalgic times, to sad changes, to great loss, to strange rises to fame and phases, to stepping stones and finally a laughing place. all the things that make up your favorite fan artist Tag.

1. Rayman (bumped into this in the year of 1999) was actually the first fandom (with crossovers) I bumped into when I was 9. although the internet wasn’t available at the time it was still fun to dwell in home amusements. I remember the storylines and the OC’s I made but they’re kind of embarrassing and it’s probably a good thing there was no internet. I’ve done fanart and comic crossovers of Rayman with Calvin and Hobbs and Nights Into Dreams, spinoffs of Sonic the Hedgehog OC’s, Yoshi with Pikachu, and the Pokemon/Digimon craze with OC’s and other Nintendo comic shorts. but the drawings and comics are long gone and disappeared in the garage in a backpack due to suspecting my sister’s dad accidentally throwing them away. years later towards the year 2018 (now 28), we decided to move to North Carolina and it was my chance to find them again. unfortunately the backpack was gone just like I suspected (my main stuff), but for some reason I found my Pokemon/Digimon fanart, a good batch of Super Mario drawings (vaguely remember doing these), my sister’s drawings and some other neighborhood kids’ drawings in a dirty box. I was partially happy I found something at least but it was the backpack I wanted the most. sometimes I regret not looking for the backpack (’cause I was too busy being a kid) but it’s alright, noone needs to see that shit anyway, ha ha. anyways, I recall being a fan of Rayman from 1999 ‘til 2002.

2. Sonic Adventure 2 Battle (bumped into this in the year of 2003) my second fandom I bumped into when I was 12 going on 13. at the time, my sister and I both liked the Sonic The Hedgehog Franchise based on the Battle remake and ended up making our own secret fanart club that consisted of only us two members. she liked Sonic (and that was her boyfriend, ha ha) and I liked Knuckles (and he was my boyfriend, ha ha) and we were crazy in love about Shadow’s backstory. we listened to the game’s soundtracks as we drew fanart and comics after school and man, those were good times. however, as we grew older towards the year of 2005, we ended up having separate rooms and I believe it played a part in disconnecting on the same interest. then one day, I asked her why she wasn’t into Sonic anymore and she replied, “Because I grew up.” I was sad after that and slowly observed that she was influenced by the emo culture and the new friends she’s made. I was the only member of our little club for a little longer...but eventually I moved on too. I still have some surviving fanart we did together but it doesn’t mean shit anymore since she turned out to be an abusive mother from the last I’ve heard of her.

3. Gorillaz (bumped into this in the year of 2006). as the Sonic years were at its end, I first heard the song “Feel Good Inc” on Music Choice and seeing the first image of them as displayed on this post (except the fan-made background doesn’t count since I can’t find the original artwork). this was my third fandom and later had proper access to the internet to the website I still currently use called DeviantArt. at first I liked 2D but eventually fell for Murdoc and developed a spiritual connection towards the character as obviously seen in my old fanart and rare photos of my devotion shrines on Valentine’s Day and his birthday every year. for the longest time since being a permanent fan from 2006-2017 (11 1/2 years) I had no knowledge that it was a political propaganda band and other realizations I don’t want to talk about. I only followed them because it was a cartoon and not the bullshit behind the musical project. the world I’ve built and support for them for all those 11 1/2 years shattered the fuck out of me and I just wanted to be left alone to find myself again, somehow. activity stopped on all my profiles, the flow of fanart stopped since I now cringe from the fan service and felt I was used for my talent. I didn’t want to be reminded of it all so I took down all my Gorillaz fanart and archived them for old followers’ nostalgia but also in the hopes they’ll be forgotten in my timeline. I ceased to exist in the fandom for huge personal reasons but it’s best to not say why. I know for sure that the fandom wonders what happened but it’s none of their business. THE END.

4. Waluigi (although I knew he’s been around since 2000 during childhood, I took deep interest once I revisited the character again in the year of December 2013). as silly as this sounds, when I revisited him again, the character was so bizarre that I ended up staying up 3 nights and 3 days in a row just looking all over the internet on everything about him and the questionable “hush-hush” absence of a backstory. despite there being no backstory he slowly gained a cult following and in many ways it’s a good thing. however, since the early 2010′s tension has been building up between Nintendo and its fans about him starring in a main game but everyone hasn’t fully gotten it in their heads that it’s not gonna happen. as long as Nintendo is in control of that, the fandom will not win, I’m sorry to say. on the other hand, if it’s going to be this way, then that’s what fanart and comic projects are for. as for me, I am doing my very best to get my comic project “Waluigi Land” going. again, I apologize if it’s taking very long to get Chapter 2 going if you’ve been keeping track but aha moments need to develop before I start permanent drawing (since concepts, character design and storyline needed improvement badly). as of right now I am still a Waluigi fan and I will not quit on him.

5. Turbo from Wreck-It-Ralph (although it debuted in 2012, I watched the movie two years later into the year 2014). for some bizarro reason, I had an unhealthy obsession with this character to the point where I dressed up as him for Halloween 2014. only 2 fanarts of him and the Turbo Twins exist on my profiles, mainly because my mind was more focused on just ‘thinking about him’ or ‘being him’ rather than drawing physical drawings. luckily, this supposed alleged fandom didn’t last long a little after Halloween so I chalk it up as a very short phase. to this day I don’t know what has gotten over me about him. the only thing I can think of now is that I think it’s because the character had yellow eyes and teeth but I don’t know. now that I think of it, that little fucker was ugly as hell and I STILL don’t know what had gotten over me. one day, my brother mentioned what that was about, and I said to him, “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

6. Undertale (although it debuted in 2015, I later took interest in it in 2016). It was all about Sans and Papyrus. I couldn’t get enough of the skeleton bros. eventually Toriel and Mettaton EX became my favorites but it took a long time to draw more of all 4 of them because I had other important things to do in my life plus I was still waiting for the next Gorillaz album to revive my imaginative juices (or so I thought). I really want to have this as one of my frequent fandoms but I just don’t have time for it anymore. it’s still in the back of my head to want to draw them but at this point I still have other better interests to be in. and besides, I’m lazy just like Sans.

7. Cuphead (June 28th, 2017 was the official day I called quits on the British-based band Gorillaz due to the bullshit behind it. since that date I was lost, had no inspiration to look forward to and no cartoon guy to make me smile...but lo and behold of the same year, I took an interest in playing the game Cuphead and man...that shit was a frightening exaggerated metaphor for being on that one drug (forgot the name though) and having sex at the same time but man that was the best fun I’ve had in years. I mean, it’s like, enemies are just so happy to murder you and that scared the shit outta me. and the facial exaggeration?....I think I should stop, ha ha. anyways, the Moldenhauers saved my ass from spiraling down, they have no clue. anyways, eventually I became a permanent fan of their work so to ease the hurt and erase my past from the G-fandom I had to re-wire my brain into a different cartoon category that’s a rather more American, so anything Toon related like Roger Rabbit, Felix the Cat or another favorite that’s a western-based cartoon makes me feel better, especially my new man .......King Dice <3 <3<3<3. however, there was something about this new fandom category I still didn’t quite understand until the date March 14th, 2020. I finally understood what it was but I feel I shouldn’t bring it up. anyways, Cuphead and anything western or rubber hose is my last stop in inspiration for the remaining years of my life. many say never say never but I believe I’ve found my laughing place and that’s all that matters.

#tag facts #influences from cartoons #likes and dislikes #thoughts i have about characters #toons #rayman #sonic the hedgehog #gorillaz #waluigi #turbo #wreck it ralph #undertale #cuphead

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askcharaandfriends · 3 years

Note

lets say for some reason the afac tumblr blog show up what reaction ould thay have?

Like everyone from the AFAC blog?? All at once? Well we have a crossover planned but I think *everyone* going over at once would break something. So here's some hypothetical meet up responses based on what I think the characters would do. F[person] is from AFAC. C[person] is from ACAF. F for Frisk. C for Chara. This hypothetical interaction takes place post memelord. This is also assuming Frisk is a little more mellow now and not about to cause trouble immediately but still not fully "reformed" but people are hypothetically chill with them.

F. Frisk: Hello new world! It's good to be here! I wonder what other me is like this time!? I hope they're nice! I bet they're nice!

C. Frisk (appearing in front of them): What are you and why do you look like me but alive and so... sunshiny...

F. Frisk: ooo you're a ghost?? So you died? I'm so sorry! But how does it feel? Is it weird being a ghost? Are you doing ok? Did you ever think about becoming a Skeleton monster? My friend Chara was a ghost and then they became a Skeleton monster! Maybe you can do that!!

C Frisk: (sarcastically) ooo you're human?? So you're alive? I'm so sorry! But how does it feel? Is it weird being made of flesh? Are you doing ok? Did you ever think about dying? Did you consider eating a pie of buttercups?This is you. This is how you sound. Do you think before you speak?

F. Frisk: Oh.... so it's that kind of world, huh? One where I'm in Chara's place and Chara is in my place? Kinda... swapped or something?

C.Frisk: What are you talking about?

F. Frisk: I don't think I can tell you because spoilers, but just know everything will be ok! It'll all work out! Oh! And if Chara makes you a strawberry ghost cake, you should eat it because they worked really hard on it!

C. Frisk: thanks???

***

F. Chara: You're alive? Ok... [thinking] (I wonder if it's like that one time or something else... awe man, I hope I wasn't rude just now. I would find that very rude and make a sarcastic comment. I hope they are not as like me as they look... for multiple reasons)

C. Chara: Um well, greetings. Welcome to this world? [Looks at the Frisks, then looks back at F. Chara] So, your Frisk is alive but you are a Skeleton and you were surprised that I was alive. I'm just guessing here, but I think maybe you're like switched with Frisk or something?

F. Chara [relieved]: or something eh heh...

C. Chara: judging by the fact that you're a Skeleton and not trying to um... hurt people I'm guessing you've gone through some character arcs and now you're cool? Please be cool. My Frisk just did this um... possession thing?? But there were like memes or something and a rainbow dance??? And it was cool but also weird. You're not going to do that here, right? (Though I guess you can't because you're not a ghost anymore... )

F. Chara [cringing from their past]: no. I promise to be good.

C. Chara: oh! Ok cool! We're cool then! Would you... like to see my chocolate stash? It's all magic chocolate, so you shouldn't have a problem with it.

F. Chara [finally relaxing into themselves]: is that even a question? =)

C. Chara: =)

***

F. Papyrus: Greetings! I am the Great Papyrus! You also Look like Papyrus! Is that true? Are you another Papyrus?

C. Papyrus: i am. though maybe not as great. you look good Papyrus. you seem happy.

F. Papyrus: I am! Lots of good things have happened to me in my world! I made lots of friends! I have a boyfriend! I am captain of the royal guard!

C. Papyrus: is that so? sounds nice! you've really got it figured out, huh? i'm happy for you. [He is sincere, but a little sadness creeps in]

F. Papyrus: Thank you Papyrus! But um... are you doing ok? I know I, the Great Papyrus can go with very little sleep sometimes, but you seem like you have gone a very long time with very little sleep. I am sure, as Papyrus, you can handle it. But even Papyrus's need rest sometimes.

C. Papyrus: you know me too well, Papyrus. i do have trouble sleeping at night sometimes. but i try to make up for it by napping.

F. Papyrus: Egad! A Papyrus, Napping! It's worse than I feared! You, Papyrus, and I, Papyrus are going off to have a "self care day"! Literally because we are caring for our "selves"! Nyeh heh heh!

C. Papyrus: good one, Papyrus. ok. you know what, yes. i will take you up on that "self" care day.

F. Papyrus: That's the spirit, Papyrus! You are looking better already! Nyeh heh heh! [F. Papyrus scoops C. Papyrus up and runs off]

***

C. Sans: There they go... Looks like fun! Do you wanna do that too?

F. Sans: nah. let's just... hang out for a sec. so, you're me, huh? i heard there was a lot of us out there- many much Sansi. how do you feel about that? knowing that there are so many other versions of "you?" not knowing which one is the "real" you. realizing you might not be the best version of "you." that you could even be one of the worst-

C. Sans: Hold on there, pal. Your spiraling in negativity. This is also "me" you're talking about, you know? You're going to hurt my feelings.

F. Sans: oh! um... sorry. i didn't mean it like that. it's just weird to think about i guess.

C. Sans: It's ok, Buddy. I'm thinking maybe you have your reasons for thinking like that. Some bad things that happened in the past, like what happened to my brother. He gets like this sometimes. I will tell you what I tell him: Sometimes bad thoughts come because of what happened and that's ok- normal even. Having bad thoughts doesn't make you a bad person. Just don't dwell on those thoughts too long. When you realize you are having bad thoughts you should take a step back and examine them. Then shoo them away with thoughts about things you like: your brother, for example.

F Sans: that's... really good advice. thanks, me.

C Sans: No problemo, amigo. We're both pretty Sansational after all!

F Sans: eeyyyy! [Finger guns]

C Sans: Eeyyy! [Finger guns]

***

F Gaster: I have seen many Gasters from my time in the void (and one in person). They varied vastly in form and personality. You however, look a lot like me except...

C Gaster: i am a ghost in a cloak? yes... i see your Hermann is like this as well. so you experimented on your own wife?

F Gaster: Did you have to say it like that? I was desperate!

C Gaster (in a more informal accent): relax, mate. i was only jokin'. i would do the same thin' in your place. ( i mean i am you after all, ain't i?) i already forgave my wife for what she did to me, so i'm not about to give ya a 'ard time. it must've been rough, imagining livin' without her. you did what made sense, even if it didn't make sense. does that make sense?

F Gaster: um...

C Gaster: brilliant! how about i make you some orange tea? i know i like that.

F Gaster: I did, but I had a rather unfortunate accident involving said tea, and I haven't liked it very much since.

C Gaster: let me guess, piranhas?

F Gaster: How did you know??

C Gaster [nods sagely]: my Hermann had the same exact problem not too long ago, except our piranhas are fond of lemons. hate oranges though. maybe you should try orange tea again, if you are going to be staying a while- just in case.

F Gaster [thinking of the lemonade he had earlier]: Yes ok, let's try it then.

C Gaster: Great! you can give me your insight on my latest scifi idea! i'm thinking it will be a buddy comedy about this one guy and his doppelganger from another universe and their hilarious hijinks and misadventures!

F Gaster [nervously]: Greeeaaat...

***

F Hermann: Ok, Ok, So you're like me, but like a science nerd like mí amore, sí?

C Hermann: Cierto. I guess you are an author/ comedian like my husband? However... he writes scifi. If I was an author, my preferred genre to write would be...

F Hermann: ;3

C Herman: Mira a tú cara! It is that, isn't it?!

F Herman: ;3

C Herman: nice. Podemos leer eso? -3- you did bring some of your books, didn't you?

F Hermann: I thought you would never ask. I have a few of my favorites in my phone's box .

C Hermann: vamos a mí cuarto. Just so we can talk about it without...

F Hermann: of course. Let's go.

***

[I hope my spanish was good. That's all I will do for now. It was a lot of writing, but it was fun]

#fun little interaction #not canon #afac vs acaf #frisk #chara #sans #Papyrus #gaster #Hermann #alternate universe #sometimes self care is #giving yourself cake #giving yourself chocolate #giving yourself good advice #giving yourself a spa day #having a chat about your latest book

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ashleyswrittenwords · 4 years

Text

Subtleties of a Suitor (Part 1 of 2)

Summary: Pre-calamity AU where Zelda’s powers awaken in time, but not everything is back to normal after Calamity Ganon is defeated.

Note: This is all @intangiblyyourswrites‘s fault. Also, the second part is NSFW -which also happens to be Kristie’s fault. Enjoy!

--------------------

Scrawling ink coated the underside of her hand and left light imprints on the edge of the paper. That paper was bound within leather covers that rarely left the Princess’s desk. It was a journal of upmost confidence; containing her deepest secrets and cresting moments of happiness. The highs and lows of her life caught between compressed papyrus.

It was hardly secretive that her lows were concentrated in the years before, caught in the repetitive cycle of failing expectations that were handed down to her from birth. This desk and this journal were Princess Zelda’s small reprieve. Even going as far as referring to it as an old friend because it felt better to write with purpose than to speak nothings into a void.

My dearest friend,

A worry line creased her forehead. The nameless friend was so accustomed to moments of happiness nowadays, it felt alarming to her that she was writing with distress once more.

These days have been nothing short of harrowing. In my last letter, I was convinced that he finally understood my intentions after Calamity Ganon was sealed away. I thought-

She paused her pen strokes and glared at the page, willing herself to connect thoughts to words and words to paper.

We don’t meet anymore, we haven’t since before the monster was sealed away. Even though the night prior haunted my dreams for weeks following my expressed wishes to cease these small moments of privacy. No matter how sweet and innocent they could be. As you know, in my heart of hearts I can’t bind him to me when-

When Zelda could never be his. When, in times of great enlightenment and prosperity, their fates have crossed and her father now sees him only as a valuable combatant in his army. When destinies have been fulfilled and they were no use to one another.

They both knew this in the beginning, but with the veil of ignorance and Zelda’s everflowing failure, she was convinced they were fated to die with the kingdom. It was a simple case of action and reaction. If she didn’t unlock her sealing powers, then Calamity Ganon would not be defeated.

The knowledge most likely drew out their passion. Pages upon pages recounted shaky hands and blushing cheeks that glowed hot and bright against starry skies. A string of months where she felt more warm than she had ever been and more loved than she thought she deserved.

Then, a week after the Calamity, when Link was pressing her against the railing of an empty stairwell far from the celebratory festivities, she broke their kiss after her guilt grew too heavy for her chest to bear. Zelda will never be able to forget the unmasked hurt on his face as she thickly told him that they couldn’t do this anymore. Among it all, Zelda told him she loved him.

I was under the impression he understood. Father offered Link a promotion and he didn’t even wait a day to think about it. The next evening another man was waiting by my door and of course it shocked me. A part of me wanted to be belligerent when Link hadn’t bothered to ask, another part was more than understanding. But now?

Now I’m rethinking everything.

It started two weeks ago.

The court was lively. Since Calamity Ganon’s appearance and subsequent defeat, Hyrule Castle had its fair share of celebrations. Three months later, the Zora was being hosted within its walls. Without looming dread over her head, Princess Zelda found herself in more social circles. The Zoran princess and Champion, Mipha, became an especially close contact. As opposing as the two princesses were, they had cultivated a solid friendship. Zelda assisted Mipha with fitting into Hylian customs and Mipha was a fantastic listener.

“Link hasn’t said anything about it to me,” Mipha said gently, swinging her little brother in her arms. Prince Sidon made a disgruntled noise and reached out towards Zelda once more.

The small prince smoothed the trouble in her brow as she heaved him in her arms. “Well maybe it’s for the best. We should both move on.”

They were taking turns about the court, trying to spend the dying summer days. Sidon giggled and reached out to his sister.. Mipha seemed to be debating what to say before opting for nothing at all and looked across the room. Her Hylian companion followed her gaze to find Link communing with her father and few other Zora. It was typical for him to parade around the Hero of Hyrule as if he were some trophy.

“I don’t know, Zelda,” Mipha softly said beside her. A joke from Link made the group laugh and suddenly the blond caught her eye. As if stung, Zelda looked at the marble tiles in front of her. She scorned herself when her mind would drift from the fact that he wasn’t wearing his Champion’s Tunic. “His burden is lifted, yes, but it’s not like him to so easily let go of someone.”

When Zelda didn’t respond, Mipha tried to reassure her. “I could be wrong. If anything, we can refer to Lady Urbosa.”

As they walked, they soon found themselves amongst a throng of Zoran and Hylian ladies who began to gossip about the affluential bachelors in the room. Although she was physically there with polite smiles galore, her head was miles from the court. There was something about wealth they were talking about when all went silent.

“Master Link!” a woman exclaimed, “What a pleasant surprise!”

Suddenly, Zelda was back with slight vertigo. The group moved from her and began asking a dizzying amount of questions.

“Tell us, how frightful was that monster?”

An excited Zoran was nearing jumping out of her draped fabrics. “Heavens! Recall to us how you slayed the dreadful Calamity Ganon, please sir.”

“Oh goodness, Catherine, not with my weak nerves.”

Why hadn’t they asked Zelda those questions? She was there too!

The man seemed caught up in the storm of women and it occurred to Zelda that she had the opportunity to slip away amongst the chaos. Right when she discreetly bid Mipha goodbye, Link began speaking.

“You’re all too kind. I’m afraid I’m not a very good storyteller,” he wore a graceful smile, but she could see the anxiety behind his eyes. She knew him. Then, she saw the skies in his eyes and any desire to leave dissipated. “I can tell you that Princess Zelda saved my life.”

All eyes fell on her and she felt the acute urge to stare at her feet. Her voice sounded foreign, “You say the most fantastic hyperboles, Captain.”

Those were the first words she has said to him beyond common pleasantries in three months.

“I assure you that there was no embellishment in the slightest.” Link was looking at her along with the rest of the ladies.

“Ah, well,” Zelda trailed off, “It was only fair when you saved mine.”

That caused a sea of hushed whispers around them. The woman that separated them spoke up excitedly, “Will you allow us a story or two, sir?”

“My apologies, I should be off to the barracks right now,” Link said, meeting her again. “I came to bid Her Highness goodbye.”

Another wave of whispers as the woman between them shuffled off quickly. Confusion ebbed at the Princess, but refined manners kept it at bay. Link reached out to her and she instinctively offered her hand, but his fingers grazed the underside of her forearm, the tips of his glove brushing down its length before finally clasping her palm. As he bent down low, he held her gaze, and it felt like they were the only people in the room. Warm lips pressed a long, searing kiss to her hand, and it revived the sensation of those same lips drifting up the inside of her thighs.

He pulled back, “You look lovely this evening, Princess. I hope we cross paths again.”

Zelda’s lips drew tight together and she nodded chastely, not trusting her voice to speak. Footsteps on marbled signified his leave and she looked at Mipha, who stared back with bewilderment. The two princesses thought the same question.

What was that?

Her ink quill scratched against the paper from added pressure, she readjusted her grip.

I thought about it for the rest of the evening. That one moment dredged up emotions I spent weeks burying. Logically, I had chalked it up to basic biology; chemicals in my brain that were ultimately a hindrance to my responsibilities. For a few hours, that had worked until I found out that that night would be the first of many where he would bid me goodnight.

The next day was no better because Father decided he was honored enough to dine with us.

“I’m so glad you can join us, Captain!” King Rhoam boisterously said. “There is a seat next to Princess Zelda.”

The woman stared holes into her empty plate as the chair beside her grated against the floor. When her father coughed to clear his throat she glanced up, “Isn’t it nice that he has joined us, Zelda?”

“Oh, yes,” she smiled tightly, hardly meeting their eyes. “It’s good to see you, Link.”

Her hands folded tightly in her lap. Zelda didn’t hear him reply, so she assumed he demonstrated his signature nod. Perhaps he didn’t want to be there either. Before the Calamity, he was never permitted to sit at the royal table, much less next to the princess. He was a simple soldier then, she reminded herself, someone with promise. Princess Zelda assumed this was another way for her father to show off the Hero of Hyrule to the lords and ladies at the table.

The thought made her bite the inside of her cheek. Didn’t he deserve better? Had he been asked what he wanted?

Supper crawled by painfully. Typically, she didn’t mind if someone sat by her but she hadn’t realized how common it was to brush arms with a neighbor. Each time they touched, she’d involuntarily flinch away. Sometimes he would mumble his apologies that were a little too close to her ear.

Like all things, the torture ceased and as Zelda was about to excuse herself, dessert was announced.

“Where are you off to?” Link said, watching as she was already half-risen from her chair.

The Princess swallowed her curses. “I’m excusing myself,” she lilted, not quite leveling with him. “A lady should keep her figure.”

It was a bold-faced lie. She knew that he knew she loved sweets and would easily endure three courses of her most hated dishes to reach them. Zelda dared him to say anything. The door to the kitchen swung open and revealed several servants. Her father suddenly eyed her oddly, “Are you not planning to stay? I requested fruitcake for this evening on your behalf.”

Oh.

Link looked away as she flopped back in her seat. Despite the rolling in her stomach, her cheeks flared in embarrassment and she rushed to say, “Thank you, Father.”

As much as Zelda wished it would, the issue hadn’t immediately folded. When a large cake was placed on the table, she had the full intention of taking the slice to her room under the guise of studying a fallen Guardian’s laser module. It would be an easy solution to this problem. The cake knife was in her field of view and she went for it, only for another’s to brush her hand away.

With accusation in her eyes, Zelda watched the smallest smile - almost unnoticeable - cross Link’s face.

“What are you doing?” she said under her breath, glancing around the table to assure no one was watching. It hadn’t seemed to be the case, but this was exactly what she didn’t want. The Princess knew this court and though they’re opinion of her had shifted, the lords and ladies would cling to any rumor no matter how innocent his actions were.

His eyes were carefully guarded and if he had been anyone else, she would have been offended by how large the slice of fruitcake was when he set it on her plate . Right when she moved to stand, he caught her with his words.

“Who is it that has you caring about the way you look?”

At the head of the table, King Rhoam was laughing at something an advisor said. By now, it would look uncouth to leave the table mid-course. With a heavy breath, Princess Zelda pulled her chair in and spread her napkin over her skirts. The cake was layered with lemon icing, which would usually make her exponentially excited. Her lips upturned into a soft frown. He shouldn’t ask questions like that. It wasn’t fair.

Annoyance surged into her chest. “Does it matter?”

He was quiet for a moment and conversations from others dominated the air between them. The fruitcake tasted stale in her mouth.

“Yes.”

She wasn’t looking at him - she couldn’t. A stirring feeling lodged itself in her throat and threatened to bring about everything she tried to undo. Memories of laughing so hard in Hyrule Field, doubled over in her saddle from something ridiculous he had said; learning in that moment that he looked at her like she was the moon on a cloudless night; his hands twirling her into a circle besides a campfire to the sound of her humming ballroom tunes.

He had asked me if I fell out of love with him or he had hurt me in some way. I hadn’t and I wasn’t then and I am not now. It wasn’t just about me, but him as well. If it came out to the court, to the public, that we were having an affair, of course I would be criticized. My character put into question and subsequently tarnished for as long as it stayed in the minds of my peers, but nothing would happen to my title. I would still be the Princess of Hyrule.

Link would be scrutinized and his reputation ruined. He could be subject to expellment and be banished from the castle or Castle Town entirely. That was a fear I had harbored and for me to perpetuate our relationship for selfish indulgence… that isn’t love. At least, not a love he deserved.

Daintily, Zelda set her fork beside her plate and partially turned to him. The man had been expecting her as if this was any ordinary conversation, his fork pressing down the spongy dessert instead of eating it.

“Only because you care so much,” she uttered with a stiff back. “The royal family of Labrynna will be hosted in Hyrule Castle in just a few days. I haven’t seen their prince since I was a child.”

His expression hadn’t changed, but he ceased his movements with the fork. Guilt pricked at the edge of her consciousness. Link placed his fork on his plate and reached up. Immediately, her faced flushed hotly and felt his coarse fingertips brushed her cheek. There wasn’t any movement to indicate that she would pull away from his touch.

Then, he smirked. “There was cream on your face.”

It was like he didn’t care! I was mortified.

Her ink pen ran underneath the last word several times to create a line deep enough to bleed onto the next page. The worry line on her forehead had creased deeper as she recounted the events that had happened.

I should have made it clear to him after dessert was over, but when we were taking leave, Father got caught up in a conversation with him. I couldn’t confront him at that point and when Link came to my door again to say goodnight, I shouldn’t have opened it. And when I did, I should have told him: Link, this is inappropriate and I’ve told you that I didn’t want this to continue. Especially in front of my father, no less!

But I didn’t.

Zelda’s face burned and she couldn’t get herself to write down that she might have liked it. She was someone who was both stubborn inside and out, and even her feelings wouldn’t leave with tumultuous effort on Zelda’s part. What was she supposed to say? That she really does miss him and that every second around him chipped deeper in the hole he left?

It was rude. Irresponsible. Ungentlemanly and without regards to propriety. OR my feelings for that matter! What if the way I felt about him is different? Three months is a long time.

And then she remembered his self-satisfied smirk when her face was hot under his hand. Her handwriting grew more frantic against the paper and she had to consciously apply less pressure before the quill-tip punctured through the surface.

Her mind shifted to the days after.

Labrynna was hosted in Hyrule Castle amongst continued celebrations of Hyrule’s success. Their King and Queen were welcomed with open arms, overwhelmed by the jubilations of Hyrulean citizens. Along with them was their son and daughter: Prince Tyrion and Princess Aurra.

Prince Tyrion had written to Zelda several times after the Calamity about their shared childhood, a time she hadn’t remembered at all herself and referred to Impa more than once to verify his stories and to write back to adequately pretend she had. The Labrynnian princess was someone Zelda wasn’t aware of whatsoever and even her father had leaned in during the processions to ask of her name.

Aurra, however, was acutely aware of Zelda. More importantly, she knew of the Hylian Champion who slew a monstrous being of myths.

Not long after making her introductions to Princess Zelda and King Rhoam, she skipped to who was at King Rhoams side and curtsied. Before Zelda could see Link’s reaction, Prince Tyrion took up her view. She offered the appropriate pleasantries and allowed him to take her hand, but she didn’t miss when Link took Princess Aurra’s.

She made note that he didn’t bring it to his lips.

Through the day, she didn’t wander from Prince Tyrion’s side. He was an interesting man; well read and well traveled. She found him to be a fantastic conversationalist nor was she blind to his charm. Dark eyes paired with brunet hair that was shorn close to his ears, which were notably shorter than any Hylian’s - a common trait amongst his people.

However, he was also arrogant.

As King Rhoam led the party through the castle grounds, a level above the barracks and training grounds, Tyrion spoke up.

“You know, Your Majesty, I am well trained in the arts of combat,” he said with a slight smile.

Rhoam raised a brow, turning slightly to face his daughter and the Prince. Two men sparred below, each clash of their swords echoing off the walls. The King of Labrynna nodded in affirmation, a certain pride in his face. “Yes, it’s custom for our prodigy to learn the blade from young ages. Tyrion has a special affinity to it.”

“Fascinating. I hope to see your skill during your stay, young man.”

“Well,” the smile of the Prince’s face and he gestured to Link behind him. “I would be honored to spar with the Hero of Hyrule.”

Princess Aurra stopped her chattering with Link and grabbed the sleeve of his blue tunic, “Oh, brother, you will surely lose. Isn’t that right, Link?”

Zelda swallowed, suddenly uncomfortable with her familiarity with him after only hours. Even more was how unbothered he was by it.

“It surely would be quite the duel,” Rhoam mused, “As long as it has your approval, Captain.”

Link nodded Tyrion’s way, graciously, “The honor would be all mine, Your Highness.”

He said it to the Prince, but his eyes meandered to Zelda’s.

The preparation took an hour and by the time Princess took her seat overlooking the training grounds, the sun casted a golden glow over them. King Rhoam was incredibly eager for the duel, shooting secret smiles at his daughter as the two men shook hands below.

It was clear who would win to the Princess, Link was at the top of his class even before he became her attendant. She scolded herself, though, and told herself that she shouldn’t underestimate Prince Tyrion so soon.

Dimly, she could hear the two opponents giving their regards to one another. The Prince had changed into an elaborately designed sparring outfit that appeared to have leather padding laced at his forearms. Link, however, changed only into Hylian trousers.

Princess Aurra hummed next to Zelda, “Is that the magical sword? It looks normal to me.”

It wasn’t as he had chosen a Knight’s Broadsword to match Tyrion’s.

“It isn’t the Master Sword. We returned it to the pedestal after felling Calamity Ganon.”

Aurra blinked, “Together?”

Zelda politely nodded. That sword was an extension of Link and she remembered comforting him after he realized its purpose was served. The night of, she felt his tears through her nightgown and told him he was more than his destiny - they both were.

After Link gave his regards to King Rhoam and Princess Zelda, a man who had sparred prior held an arm out and shouted to begin the duel.

“Oh, how exciting!” Aurra squealed.

The two men circled each other like vultures. Prince Tyrion was the first to push forward, a simple feint that Link sidestepped. He was testing the waters. Then, the Prince leapt forward and went for his opponent’s side, who parried without losing ground. There were several short exchanges of the Hero being passive, while Tyrion was assertive.

Before Zelda knew it, she was gripping the sides of her chair as they danced. Tyrion was grinning wildly at his stoic opponent. He hadn’t been bluffing earlier, he was skilled. The Hylian Princess had seened Link spar time and time again, never did it take so long for him to disarm his opponent in some manner. The sun beat down on them, creating glistening sweat on their skin that bled darkly through their clothes.

Suddenly, Tyrion had space for a large horizontal slash before Link could recover from a parry. Zelda let out a yelp and watched him duck into a lateral roll, regaining his senses and plenty of ground between them.

Tyrion harked out a laugh, “You are brilliant, sir!”

They were panting now and the comment brought a sideways smile to Link’s lips. “I appreciate the regard, Your Highness. You’re a remarkable swordsman.”

They took a moment to breathe and Link did the unthinkable. His Champion tunic was discarded easily to the ground and Zelda held her breath when his eyes found hers on the perch where she sat.

Princess Aurra gasped softly. Zelda didn’t blame her. Hard lines on his stomach were only more prominent in the sun and his chest heaved with his hard breaths. The lack of coverage revealed the flex of his arm as he readjusted his grip on the blade.

It wasn’t an oddity that he was now half naked. Tyrion had long let the strings that laced the neckline of his tunic loosen, leaving a large portion of his chest exposed. Considering that they were already in the heat of midsummer, the sight of shirtless men should be expected at this end of the castle. But Link, well, he was always different.

The Prince of Labrynna lunged forward with a grunt, thrusting his blade out. Where Tryion was tactful, almost mechanical, in his movements, Link was fluid. He took his opponents strikes like water, flowing into the gaps of his defenses and reevaluating in a moment’s notice. It truly was an art in Zelda’s eyes, a very dangerous art.

Much different than anything Tyrion had done, he brought his blade upward in a sideways slashing arch with a loud shout. Princess Zelda’s heart surged in her chest. Link grit his teeth and threw his weight back into a flip, landing on his feet.

Surprise registered in Tyrion’s eyes and couldn’t recover fast enough when Link brought his blade against the hilt of His Highness’s broadsword. The blade was sent skidding along the dirt.

“Ah,” Tyrion brought his hand up to further demonstrate his lack of weapon. “I yield.”

It was then that Zelda realized she was holding her breath. Her father and his guests had all stood and applauded, so she followed suit.

“Good show!” Aurra leaned on the stone wall. “Very well done!”

The two men clasped hands again with a few words of respect. The Hylian princess watched a short regaling and found an opportunity to slip away from the processions without another glance at the arena.

#wow look at allllll those words #loz #zelink #zelda #link #zelink fanfiction #fanfiction #loz fanfiction #legend of zelda #ashleyswrittenwords #subtleties of a suitor

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shyneanon · 3 years

Note

I don't entirely know the details either. It could be a debt of some sort (maybe he stole some donuts from her lol), or just an random dislike of him. Idk, I just have a feeling a lot of the UF cast have a mutual loathing of Fell XDD

Splynter gave me a prompt about UF Sans having to go speak to Muffet. I knew they disliked each other, but didn’t really know the details of their dynamic, so I asked. Honestly I agree, I feel like most of the Underfell cast just hates Sans. Which makes sense, considering pretty much everyone seems to love Sans in Undertale. Kind of reversed.

I’m not... sure how accurately I wrote UF Muffet, but I tried. I hope you like it!

---

Shit.

Shit shit shit shit.

Sans stood outside of the door to Muffet’s, feeling countless beads of sweat running down his forehead. Sure, they were on the surface now. He was… pretty sure she wouldn’t hurt him.

But there weren’t really any guarantees.

And besides, even if she didn’t hurt him, she would find some way to make his life miserable. He just needed to get in and back out as fast as possible. Why couldn’t Boss have done this?! He’d asked, but apparently Boss had taken that as a “Sans needs to learn to not be such a fucking wimp all the time.” He wasn’t a wimp! This was Muffet they were talking about! And she hated him! Him specifically! She would listen to Boss, at least a little bit…. Ugh. There was no point in stalling. He just needed to go in already.

He forced himself to place his hand on the door handle and push it open, rushing inside before he could change his mind.

The bell attached to the door made a little jingling sound as the door shut behind him, and he froze immediately. Muffet was right at the counter, wiping it down. She hadn’t noticed him yet.

“I’m afraid we just closed,” she began, but immediately paused after turning her head and seeing who had just entered the store. Sans felt himself start to sweat again and looked away.

“Hi, how are ya?” He tried to say it casually, but didn’t make eye contact. He didn’t want her to think he was being disrespectful.

She gasped, an utterly false gasp of joy. “Oh, Sans! How are you? It’s been so long!”

An army’s worth of spiders scuttled down from the counter and surrounded him in a semicircle.

“Too long.”

She giggled. Sans could feel himself shaking a little. It’s fine. She won’t hurt me. She knows Boss would kill her if she hurt me, even if it is against the law. Reminding himself that his brother really did care made him feel a bit better.

“What’s the matter? Go ahead and tell me what you’re here for, hm?”

He managed. “I got some’a yer money I owe ya.”

“Oh! Really?”

He nodded vigorously, pulling out the cash from his pocket. At the sudden movement, the spiders instinctively moved forward, but relaxed when they saw that he meant no harm.

“Oh! How lovely!” She looked down at something he couldn’t see behind the counter.

God no.

“Why don’t you go grab it, pet?”

There were several snarling sounds and Muffet’s horrible pet crawled over the counter and over to Sans. It opened its drooling mouth and displayed its sharp teeth. Making sure to barely hold the cash between the tip of his thumb and index fingers, Sans held it out and let the pet grab it, flinching when it bit down. Thankfully, his bones were untouched.

“Aww! It likes you so much!”

Just make this end, dammit….

“Why don’t you give it a few pats, hmm?”

“H… huh?” Sans felt himself start to sweat again. He smiled nervously. “I mean… I would, but I, uh--”

“It will be sad if you don’t!” She flashed him a smug smile. “And I’ll be very upset if you make it sad.”

ffffffffff

“R… right,” he said, and reached out. It flinched, which made him flinch, but he eventually patted its head. It started to growl, but he knew better than to stop, so he just continued and prayed that it wouldn’t decide to bite his hand off.

“Aww. It enjoys being pet so much! You can stop now.”

He immediately withdrew his hand, shoving it in its pocket, and the pet scurried back over to Muffet and handed her the cash. She started to flip through it.

“Well! Finally, we…”

She trailed off, counting the money again, and Sans started to shake once more. Had the pet swallowed some of the cash? Please no.

Her eyes went from the money to him.

“This is only half of your owed amount,” she said, her voice riddled with distaste.

“Y… Yeah.”

All five of her eyes narrowed as she stood up completely straight. “I thought I told you not to come back until you had all of my money, Sans.”

OK, time to completely cast aside his pride.

“I know!” he said. “I’m sorry! I wanted tah wait till I had it all, but Boss--”

“Hmmm, or wait forever?”

“N-- no, I was savin’ it up, but we had ‘n agreement an’ I didn’t wanna--”

“You know,” she interrupted, although he hesitantly tried to continue blabbering. “I just realized my pet hasn’t had any food since lunch.”

The pet, which was still standing on the counter, turned and stared at him with its beady eyes. He tried not to look too afraid. Technically, he could annihilate Muffet and her pet if he wanted, but he didn’t want anybody to know about what he was capable of.

“That’s illegal,” he said. “Yer shop’ll get shut down.”

“Oh trust me,” she said, “I can make sure no one pins it on me.” A bit of a manic smile. “It’s not as if they’ll have a body as evidence.”

“My bro’ll know you did it, he’ll kill ya.”

“Mmm. Your brother is only so strong.”

That may as well have been an insult, considering the Underground’s culture. Sans didn’t think before speaking-- a bad habit he often suffered from. “Shuddup, my brother’s stronger than you’ll ever be!”

A moment of silence as they both realized what he’d just said. They just stared at each other. Sans started to panic. He didn’t want to shortcut right in front of somebody. She was going to let that stupid pet eat him and--

No, the door was right behind him. He could run! Cowardly, sure, and embarrassing, but he’d be alive. He turned-- only to find someone towering over him.

“WHAT’S GOING ON HERE?”

“Boss!” Sans practically yelled in relief. His brother raised a brow at him, but didn’t say anything.

“Oh!” said Muffet. She suddenly looked nervous. Only so strong, my ass. “Hello, Papyrus! Your lovely brother here was just paying me some of his debt. I’m quite appreciative!”

“AS YOU SHOULD BE,” said Papyrus stiffly. He must have seen Muffet’s sadistic smile through a window. Sans turned back around, giving Muffet a smug smile of his own when his brother wasn’t looking. How the tables have turned, huh?

She kept her fake smile plastered on her face, and her attention on Papyrus. “We just now closed, but you and I are always such good friends! Would you like something? It’s on the house! I made cupcakes just a few hours ago, they’re still--”

“NO,” said Papyrus, “WE ARE NOT INTERESTED IN YOUR SECOND-RATE FOOD.”

She looked like she’d just been slapped in the face, she was so horrified. Sans saw his chance and sauntered up to the counter, the spiders on the floor scuttling out of the way.

“I’ll take some,” he said, giving her a massive, shark-toothed grin.

One of her eyes twitched.

“I mean, ya did say I’m real lovely, right? ‘N we’re all such good friends.”

“... Of course,” she said, though the murderous rage radiating off of her was quite palpable. “Anything! What would you like?”

“Ya said ya made cupcakes?”

“Yes, I did in fact do that.” She pointed at six cupcakes immaculately decorated with clean frosting.

“Nice. I’ll take all six.”

“All six? I didn’t say you could have...” She stopped, looking over in Papyrus’s direction, and her grin became somehow more forced. “... I mean, of course, yes! Six cupcakes coming right up!”

It was almost like she had to force her limbs to grab the cupcakes, put them into a box, and then hand them to Sans without asking for any pay.

“Aw geez, Muffet, yer always such a great friend,” he said, beaming maliciously up at her.

“Always. You two take care now!”

“See ya,” he said, and headed for the door. Papyrus said nothing, just held the door open for him. Once he’d left, Papyrus followed.

“YOU KNOW I ONLY LET YOU TAKE SIX CUPCAKES BECAUSE I SAW THAT SHE WAS THREATENING YOU DESPITE HAVING THE MONEY.”

“Yeah, thanks fer saving my ass.”

“LANGUAGE! DON’T SPEAK LIKE A BARBARIAN, SANS!”

“Sure.” Sans opened up the box, grabbed a cupcake, and began stuffing his face. “These are so fuckin’ good,” he said through a full mouth.

Papyrus sighed with exasperation.

He then held out a hand. Immediately understanding, Sans handed him a cupcake.

“Ya didn’t mean, it right? When ya said her food was second-rate?”

“OF COURSE I DIDN’T!” said Papyrus as he carefully unwrapped the cupcake. “HER PASTRIES ARE AMAZING! BUT SHE WAS THREATENING YOU! SHE DESERVED TO FACE CONSEQUENCES, EVEN IF KILLING HER ISN’T AN OPTION!”

Sans was too absorbed in his sweets to reply.

“... I’LL ADMIT, WATCHING HER SQUIRM WAS QUITE SATISFYING.”

“Yeah,” said Sans, “it was hilarious.” His smile faltered. “You’ll, uh, probably need tah take the second half of th’ debt to ‘er when ya get it. She’ll… prob’ly kill me if I try tah give it to her.”

“... THAT’S PROBABLY TRUE, YES. I’LL DELIVER IT.”

Cool.

Sans shoved another cupcake into his mouth.

#this was so fun to write oh my gosh #I wasn't sure where it was going at the beginning and then just #THE TURNS HAVE TABLED #fanfic #fanfiction #one-shot #underfell #underfell sans #fell sans #underfell papyrus #fell papyrus #underfell muffet #fell muffet #prompt

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septic-skele · 3 years

Text

UF - Stand My Ground

Summary: The Great and Terrible Papyrus knows all too well the fate that awaits him, but he will never turn away from it. Cowardice just isn't within him, nor is surrender.

I can see

When you stay low

Nothing happens

Does it feel right?

The Great and Terrible Papyrus knew all too well the fate that awaited him. The second time he charged to the edge of town to confront the human, his motivation was nothing but seething rage. To be publicly humiliated, beheaded by a sneering, insolent human child? Unacceptable. Unthinkable. It was an end that he couldn’t abide in good conscience.

Late at night

Things I thought I'd put behind me

Haunt my mind

When the keen edge of his anger became blunt, worn down by repetition, he challenged them to uphold his honor. Reputation and infamy were everything in this world. The Great and Terrible Papyrus would be remembered better for dying in the glory of battle than fleeing with the cowardly masses.

When he eventually came to the realization that very few would be left to hold him in their memory anyway (and none of them would look back fondly) it became a matter of simple duty. No matter the odds, a royal guardsman was never meant to back down from a fight.

A wise and discerning royal guardsman knew when the odds weren’t—and would never be in his favor.

I just know there's no escape now

Once it sets its eyes on you

But I won't run

Have to stare it in the eyes

It was when Papyrus crumbled for the thirteenth time, straining against his own weakness, choking on his own dust, that he knew. He knew and still he met their eyes, teeth bared, goading them on with curses until their foot inevitably shattered his skull into a thousand pieces.

He knew and still he did not accept it.

Stand my ground

I won't give in

He tried a great many things. He rallied reinforcements to stand and fight at his side. He killed half the town himself in preparation, hasty to gather LOVE stronger than the human’s. He stood ready at the locked door, hoping to destroy them as soon as they set foot in the woods.

None of it mattered. His reinforcements were slaughtered or deserted him to his death. His LOVE never matched that which the human had gathered in the Ruins, and he could never break open the door himself to prevent it.

More than once he tried to warn the townsfolk before the human’s arrival. Given his manic, notorious desire to capture one, he was derided. “Papyrus is letting his position go to his head. He deludes himself. He cries wolf. Papyrus wants to watch us descend into terror as an amusement. He thinks he’s so influential that we’ll believe anything he says. Papyrus is fearmongering. We won’t be his fools.”

No more denying

I’ve gotta face it

It was the twenty-seventh reset that he awoke with a crushing, now-familiar headache and cold, slimy tendrils of unease curled around his soul. It was the first time his confidence truly wavered.

Death and destruction were inevitable. Papyrus could never win.

What was he supposed to do with that knowledge? Accept it? Continue to draw a line in the snow, well aware that it would not hold? Surrender?

He could never win. He would never run. It wasn’t within him.

Where fire, fury, honor and duty buckled and gave way, what then could he stand for?

Won't close my eyes and hide the truth inside

Claws brushing his neck, acutely aware of the thin, deadly scar left over in the periosteum, Papyrus sat in silence. What he was waiting for, he didn’t know. Every time he found himself back here, he expected the world to feel as if it already stood on the edge of a knife. He would expect the dread to loom far beyond the confines of his own room but it didn’t. Pale light streamed through the window, as was its way. On the other side of the wall, Sans was snoring.

Sans had always believed him, those times that he sounded the alarm…not that his support held much weight. No matter the orders Papyrus gave him, his brother always seemed to disappear before the end, offering no help. Wherever he went or what his fate was every time, Papyrus didn’t know. Perhaps his only interest was “saving his own skin.” Too lazy to bother taking heed of Papyrus’ eleventh hour—or, more likely, he was dust already and Papyrus had never witnessed the human’s kill.

If I don't make it, someone else will

Stand my ground

Though he would never admit it, the Great and Terrible Papyrus felt his throat tighten.

Did Sans ever survive to learn what happened to him? Did he ever care enough to return for his dust?

If all other motivations were stripped down to barebones, Papyrus would stand his ground to prove that at least one of Snowdin’s skeleton brothers gave everything he had, and always would, to the bitter end. Someone had to be a proper role model. If he wanted something done right, he had to do it himself.

All I know for sure is that I’m trying

Perhaps Sans would be the one to hold the memory of him close, if he did last long enough.

For Sans, then, in the hopes that he would take Papyrus’ example to heart and put some true effort into whatever life he had left.

Papyrus scoffed softly. That was little more than pathetic, wishful thinking, but it was what he needed to rise from his bed and slip into the funerary armor that would never protect him.

I will always stand my ground

For Sans.

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lover-of-skellies · 4 years

Text

In Deep Water

Sooo... ye. I did a thing. This is supposed to be a lil recap kinda thing for Nep and Gill's past, since I hadn't posted anything for that yet. Hopefully it turned out alright,, but if it's not quite up to par, I apologize in advance ^^" I'm still really tired, and the fuckin angst in the beginning hit me right in the feels

There's some gore and violence, but for the most part, I don't think it's that bad. Nothing to be hugely concerned about, at least

All of this happens before Betta's born, so she's not in this part sadly enough

Chest heaving as he gasped for breath, the skeleton monster stared at the gruesome scene laid out before him; his favorite human was sprawled out in the snow, their eyes wide, and their face fixed in a clear look of terror. Crimson stained the snow that surrounded them, and from the side of their neck, their upper arm, and shoulder, there were large chunks of their flesh missing. One of their arms was torn clean off their body, and one of their legs had also been mangled and bloodied.

Looking down at himself, his eye lights constricted into the smallest of pin pricks, fear taking hold of his entire being as his gaze locked on the blood that stained almost the entire front of his jacket. His slippers were drenched in the scarlet fluid as well, and he let out a strangled cry, his sockets watering up with blue tinted tears. Beginning to tremble, his eye light shifted their focus to his hands, which were covered in the blood of his friend.

There was something that held a metallic taste in his mouth, and as he began to recall what happened, a wave of nausea washed over him. He doubled over, his nonexistent stomach turning. Hitting a certain point, he nearly doubled over, emptying the contents of his stomach into the snow before him. His entire body ached and he broke into sobs, not bothering to wipe the last bit of vomit from his chin. He covered his face with his hands, his shoulders shaking as he began practically wailing, trying desperately to muffle his voice.

His soul trembled within his chest, and then small cracks began to form along the edges of it as he choked out, "Oh my god, oh no... oh shit, what have I done? What the hell is wrong with me? Why did I did... I didn't mean to, I swear. I... I've doomed us all, haven't I?"

Footsteps could be heard crunching in the snow and approaching him, and his feet remained rooted in place as he was greeted by the familiar voice of his younger brother, "SANS? SANS, ARE YOU ALRIGHT?! OH MY WORD, WHAT HAPPENED TO THE HUMAN?!" Sans' voice was weak, no more than a whimper as he responded, "You gotta get outta here, Pap... It's not safe." Ignoring his brothers words, Papyrus approached him from behind, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. Sans flinched at the unexpected contact, his sockets widening, and as he slowly turned to look up at Papyrus, blood staining his clothes and coating the lower half of his face, the younger of the two looked back at him, clearly in shock.

Blue tears rolled down Sans' cheekbones and he trembled, his voice barely audible, "...I did this, Pap. I'm... I don't know what's wrong with me. You need to leave, I don't wanna hurt you too." The taller brother sighed deeply, momentarily closing his sockets. Opening them again to look at Sans, he chose to completely disregard the blood on his clothes, leaning down to very delicately wrap his arms around his elder brother, tugging him closer to himself and lowering his voice, "I'm Not Going Anywhere, Brother. Not Without You." Sans let out another sob, acting on impulse as he latched onto Papyrus, attempting to hide his face.

Their moment was interrupted as another voice pierced the silence, its tone laced with venom, "You... Of all the things you could've done, you broke the ONE rule I gave you! Just how foolish are you, Sans?!" Sans whimpered, sniffling and reluctantly peeking at the person who'd addressed him. Immediately recognizing them, his sockets widened again and he turned to fully face them, panic written on all of his features, "I never meant for this to happen, I swear! I didn't... I didn't wanna do this. I'm so, so sorry, please forgive me! I'll do anything to make it right!"

Crossing their arms over their chest, the deity narrowed their eyes, scoffing at his words, "You're such a half-witted fool. Spilling human blood was the ONE thing that was prohibited! As long as no human blood was spilled, I gave you and your people COUNTLESS YEARS of peace and prosperity. I protected the lot of you, and you've taken that for granted!" Sans held his hands up and immediately shook his head, "N-No, I haven't! Honest! Please, forgive me! I'm begging you!"

They merely rolled their eyes, "I cannot, Sans. If I were to let it go this once, who's to say you won't do it again, hm? You yourself can't even be certain of that, can you?" Sans pressed a hand over his mouth, trying to muffle his voice as tears continued pouring from his sockets. Papyrus frowned, clearing his throat and gaining the attention of the deity, "Um... Excuse Me... May I Say Something, Your Greatness?"

The deity nodded, silently giving him their permission to speak. The younger of the two skeleton brothers wasn't sure what to say or do, but he spoke anyway, his magic beginning to radiate waves of what felt like some sort of hopeful desperation, "I Know My Brother Has Broken A Rule You Set In Place, That Meant The World To You. I Can Assure You Though, He Didn't Mean To Do This. It's Not Like Him To Do These Sorts Of Things, I Promise. Just Look At Him... He's Crying And Pleading With You For Your Forgiveness. If It's At All Possible, I Humbly Ask That You Look Inside Yourself and Try To Pardon Him. Please. Just This Once."

The divine being arched a single eyebrow, "Are you defending his wrongdoing, Papyrus?" In response, the skeleton in question shook his head, "No No, Absolutely Not. I Agree That It Was Very Wrong Of Him, But Please... Please Forgive Him. Grant Us Your Kindness, And We'll Make Sure This Never Happens Again." Sighing, the god rubbed one of their temples, squeezing their eyes shut. The skeletons remained silent, save for Sans' broken sobs and whimpers, awaiting their God's decision.

When the entity opened their eyes and stared at the two with a look of firm resolution, Papyrus felt all the hope in his soul immediately die, shrinking back the smallest bit at their words, "Then so be it. If you'd defend him, brother or not, that places you on the same level as him. The two of you are to live out the rest of your days as the terrifying beasts that the humans have come to fear. And since Sans seems to love the taste of human flesh enough to go and violate the single rule I've ever given you and the rest of your people, that is the only thing you'll be able to feast on. It will sustain you, but it'll be the only food that will give any sort of satisfaction."

Still sniffling and trying to blink back tears, Sans stared at his bloodied hands, his sockets widening as he watched the tips of his phalanges grow sharper. He opened his mouth, trying to force out a string of words, but froze as his ecto tongue grazed his teeth, feeling how sharp they'd also become. As a second row of serrated teeth began to grow within his mouth, Sans cried out, pain shooting through his face.

His vision went white and he blindly tried to reach for Papyrus, unable to see. Fearing that he'd gone blind, he sobbed, "Pap?... Papyrus, where are you? Why can't I see?!" Papyrus began to respond, his voice dying in his throat as pain shot through his face, his teeth also beginning to change. When his own vision went white, he was frozen, his own sockets widening and beginning to water up as well. Watching them with a cold, blank expression, their god remained silent, appearing unphased.

As the skeletons' vision began to slowly return, they rubbed their eyes and blinked, once again freezing in place as they saw each other; they'd been given claws, sharpened teeth, and their sockets had gone white, without a single trace of an iris or pupil. Visibly frightened, Sans looked to the deity, "Hey, what'd you do to us?... Why are you punishing Papyrus too, huh?! He didn't do anything wrong!"

They tilted their head, still gazing at him blankly, "Well, didn't I just say you were to live out the rest of your days as terrifying beasts? You wouldn't have been terrifying if I left you as you were." Papyrus blinked, trying to process what just happened. Sockets watering up and orange tinted tears dripping down his cheekbones, he pulled his scarf over his face, filled with shame and fear. He resented the way he looked now, just as he resented the pangs of hunger within him that were urging him to devour the corpse that laid nearby.

As the other monsters began to emerge from their homes, Sans' crime revealed to them, his sockets watered up again and he fumbled for an explanation and an apology, and he watched in horror as their confusion and shock began to morph into disgust and anger. They began to shout at him, and as they began to summon their magic to attack, the crowd parted. Making his way through the gathering, the flamesman silently surveyed the scene before him. Sans looked to him, his voice pleading as he apologized more.

The realization sunk in, as to what would happen now, and Sans felt his blood run cold. Grillby's flames became hotter, and he cast a wave of fire at the skeletons, offering no hesitation or remorse. He was just as doomed as everyone else. Sans was quick to shortcut out of the path of Grillby's attack, taking Papyrus with him. Nearly choking as another sob left him, Sans placed himself between Papyrus and the gathering of angry monster, "Don't hurt my bro, please! I'm begging you! He's never done anything to any of you, and he didn't do anything wrong! He's not the one who did this, it was me! I'm the one you should dust! Please... dust me, but leave Papyrus alone. Please, I'm begging you..."

A rock was thrown, rocketing toward the shorter of the two skeletons and striking the side of his skull, causing him to cry out as a small crack formed, and as he tried to regain his bearings, a small figure darted through the crowd. He barely had enough time to process what was happening before a knife was drawn and they slashed at him, his sockets wide as tears dripped down his face. His ribs and sternum cracked and chipped under the blade of the knife, and he felt fresh blood begin to drip down his chin. Was that... was that his blood? No... it couldn't be. There was no way-

The small figure zipped around him and made a beeline for Papyrus, and he cursed. There was no way in hell they were going to hurt his brother. Something within him snapped and he lunged forward, tackling the human child to the ground. Hunger pulsed through him as he caught the scent of blood again, and he growled lowly, baring his teeth. They were flipped onto their back, and as they immediately tried to slash at him again, his eye twitched and his frown became a wide, crooked grin. He roughly grabbed their wrist, and with a sickening crack and their terrified, pained shrieks, their arm was torn from their body, their hand still clutching the handle of their knife.

He chuckled softly, his voice hoarse as he leaned over them and murmured, "Game over, kiddo. I'd say 'm sorry that it had ta go this way, but that'd be a lie. I never did like ya too much, y'know?" There was another shrill scream that he immediately silenced, his jaws clamping down on their rather thin neck. Serrated teeth now embedded in their flesh, he sharply jerked his head, effectively shredding their throat and destroying any verbal capabilities they had left.

He pulled back, looking down at the human beneath him, momentarily horrified at what he'd just done. Tears dripped down his face again and he trembled, hiding his face with his hands. Sans' mind grew hazy, and his sniffles and sobs shifted, gradually transforming into raspy laughter. A magic attack struck him and he yelped, momentarily surprised, before fixing his gaze on the crowd and narrowing his sockets, his twisted smile stretching across his face again as he rose to his feet. Oh, they were gonna pay for that.

As another barrage of magic attacks flew toward him, he merely shortcutted out of their way, trying to ignore pain he felt pulsing through him from his chest each time he moved. Papyrus' voice gained his attention and he looked up, his smile falling as his sockets went wide and he stared. Water flooded from within the surrounding forest, and as the other monsters caught sight of it, they had the same reaction that he and Papyrus did.

Some of them were frozen in fear, and some of them began to run. The water reached the town, crashing full force into the small shops and houses, destroying everything in it's wake, including whatever monsters who were unable to escape. Most of the towns' inhabitants were either killed by the impact, or drowned, save for maybe a lucky remaining few, along with Sans and Papyrus.

Instinctively rushing to Papyrus, Sans grabbed onto him, using his magic to maneuver both of them through the water, trying to find the surface. Just as everything seemed to be over, the earth below them began to shake and split open. A second wave of water hit them without a warning, immediately sweeping both of them into the deep pit that'd just been created, and as Sans pushed Papyrus to a more shallow area, adamant that his younger brother try to save himself, one of the remaining monsters appeared. Gripping onto Sans' jacket, they yelled and cursed at him, roughly shaking him out of anger, and he tolerated this for no more than half a second before he lashed out, turning them to dust.

As if his body was moving against his will, he licked their dust off of his hands, and then was quick to devour their soul, which was all that remained of them. Absentmindedly swaying his feet in the water as he used magic to keep himself in place, he looked around, the reality of the situation finally kicking in. He was horrified and he hated himself for what he did and what he'd become, shaking and erupting into loud, obnoxious laughter. He laughed so hard that tears began to run down his face, and carelessly discarding his jacket and letting it sink, he pressed a hand to his head, his sockets wide and his face fixed into a look of sheer, morbid delight.

Papyrus called out to him and he fell silent, blinking in confusion; his brother cried out for "Sans." He was Sans... right? Sans the skeleton? That was still him? No, no... it couldn't be. Not after everything that just happened. Not now that he'd become some sort of freak.

He shook his head, deciding to abandon his warring thoughts in favor of returning to his brother's side, right where he belonged. In time, the two very gradually began to adjust to their new lifestyle; while Papyrus lurked at the bottom of their lake and continued making his rounds, just as he did when he was trying to become a member of the royal guard, Sans busied himself with... other things.

Namely, tracking and hunting, and making sure the both of them were fed. He became detached and separated from his past self, embracing his life as a human eater with open arms. Papyrus wasn't sure how that was possible; personally, he hated this new life. He hated always being wet, he hated never feeling clean, he hated the huge lack of puzzle making, and most of all, he hated having to devour innocent humans to survive. To him, the humans were supposed to be their friends, not their food.

They stopped keeping track of how much time had passed, the events that brought them to this new life rapidly shifting into nothing more than a distant, fuzzy memory. One that both of them sometimes struggled to remember, at that. The forest was quiet and peaceful, and Sans took great joy in killing off the humans who entered, both for the sake of getting food, and also for maintaining the peaceful atmosphere.

Becoming bored with only hunting humans after a while, Sans took to hunting animals as well. Then, if by some small chance a monster wandered into their forest, he'd cut them down too. Papyrus was horrified, having found his elder brother licking monster dust off his hands and shirt. Eating other monsters was a taboo thing to them, and it had never been discussed before. Papyrus voiced his disagreement with it, trying to get his elder brother to see reason and stop, before he delved too far and indulged in this cannibalistic behavior anymore than he already had.

Sans, being Sans, was stubborn, refusing to stop. Papyrus continued trying to talk him out of it, but gave up after a great while, concluding that there was no point in arguing when Sans refused to listen or take anything into consideration. The two remained just as close as ever despite their obvious differences, and they'd gone on about their lives, just as they'd done before. Everything was normal and fine, and that was the end of it.

That was, until the day a promiscuous skeleton with purple eye lights appeared.

#undertale #undertale au #nep.exe #gill.exe #writing #underlust sans #lust sans #👀#a challenger approaches #idk man #I'm really tired ok #i tried

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alottanothing · 4 years

Text

Left to Ruin: Chapter Five

Summary: Ahkemenrah and his sister struggle to come to terms with their arranged marriage. The pharaoh meets with suitors to become his second wife; he finds it hard, however, to give them his heart when he remembers someone else who has already claimed it.

Previous Chapters

Word Count: 7009

Warnings:This one gets a wee bit spicy, not completely smut, but it’s heavily implied.

Tag List: @xmxisxforxmaybe, @r-ahh-mi, @theultraviolencefan, @hah0106, @rami-malek-trash, @diasimar, @sherlollydramoine, @flipper-kisses, @ivy-miranda-2390, @txmel, @sunkissedmikky, @concentratedsassandcandy, @babyalienfairy (Let me know if I missed you, or if you would like to be added to the tag list)

A/N: Oh man this chapter’s a long one, but, it might be one of my favorites. Shout out to those of you who have been liking, rebloging and commenting! I’m a gooey mess of warmth when is read what stuck out, so thank you all a million times. Y’all are rock stars. ❤️❤️Again, as a disclaimer, I am not an ancient Egyptian expert and google only knows so much. So yeah, I took so historical liberties while writing this to make my life easier, but tried to keep it as “authentic” as possible. As another helpful note, Ahk is 23 by the end of this chapter and Set 18.

Much like his responsibilities as ruler of the great empire of Egypt, maintaining the charade of a blossoming marriage became easier with every passing day. Ahkmenrah and Setshepsut’s fondness and their genuine love of one another helped to sell the narrative they wanted to. During the day they were busy tending to matters for their respective roles, only coming together for meals. Their nights, however, were always spent together in the privacy of the pharaoh’s bed-chamber, doing whatever they pleased in their few hours free of responsibility.

Most nights they played game after game of Senet, and most of those nights Ahkmenrah let his little sister win just to see that childlike joy spread over her face. Before long though, it was Set who was letting him win much to the pharaoh’s frustration. Even so, Ahk could think of nothing he cherished more than the laughs they shared.

Other nights they would sit on the balcony or lean on the rail looking out over the city as they passed the hours with conversation much like the night they married. Setshepsut loved Ahkmenrah’s stories about his time away from the capital. Even after she heard them a dozen times, she still listened with wonderment in her eyes, and Ahk was only too happy to regale her with as much detail as he could pull from his memory.

Some nights, hardly a word would pass between them, and they would spend the hours with a lonely silence that reminded them of the chains they wore. Ahkmenrah would distract himself from the obvious tension with matters of the realm, busying himself with a hundred tasks scribbled out on stacks of papyrus. Setshepsut would tuck her self far away, in a corner or on the balcony to read histories or poetry without saying so much as a hello or a good-bye, before returning to her own chamber to be free of the strain duty was putting on their kinship.

Ahkmenrah hated those nights when the weight of what they weren’t doing hung so heavily upon them that the mere sight of the other curled a frown on their face. He preferred the nights of game playing or storytelling, when he could make out the glimmer of life in her eyes. There was still so much of his sister that was a child, especially those first two years of their marriage. Ahkmenrah wanted to preserve the child who was still clinging to her, not destroy it. He forfeited his own childhood by choice of accepting the crown; Setshepsut was not given the same choice.

For those first few years, his attempts were successful at encouraging the wonderment of her youth—teaching her about their nation's cultures, histories, and fables. As time progressed, however, wisdom began poking through the ever-fading veil of her childhood, giving way to the wisdom and spirit of a young woman Ahkmenrah greatly admired. Their conversations began to shift to subjects far deeper than tales of places he had seen. They spoke of life and of dreams; dreams they both knew were out of reach for people in their position. Still, under the stars on the balcony, Ahkmenrah cherished every word they shared no matter how bitter, or sweet.

Setshepsut entered the pharaoh's chambers one night, three years into their phony marriage, carrying with her a mien that piqued Ahk’s interest in a way that made him feel abruptly ill at ease. He greeted her as he always did, with a smile and a light kiss to her cheek, and her curious demeanor became more evident the closer he was to her. Ahkmenrah’s smile faded slightly feeling the peculiar vibe and elected the stack of papyrus he’d been looking over could wait until later.

He held Set an arm's length away, his hands planted gently on her shoulders as he searched her expression for a hint as to what was causing his spirited sister such unease.

“What’s wrong?”

Set swallowed nervously and sighed.

“Set?” Ahk tested, drawing her attention back to him when it began to stray.

“I have something I must tell you—a secret. And I hope that you will help me keep it.”

She said nothing more and walked hastily out to the balcony, leaning against the wide edge of the stone railing to better gaze out over the city. Ahk followed, curiosity and fear fueling his movements. A thousand things flashed into his mind as to what it could be his sister needed to tell him, each slightly more concerning than the last. And by the time he placed himself beside her, he was out of breath, with his heart racing.

“You can tell me anything, you know that,” Ahkmenrah assured her, wishing she would hurry up and end his internal suffering.

“There’s a soldier called Satauhotep. He’s very kind…”

Suddenly, the nervousness on her features lessened, turning into something deeply wistful. A soft smile curled onto her lips and pink tinted her cheeks. She was very obviously infatuated and was scared he might be mad at her on account.

“We’ve sort of been meeting in private—he kissed me once. But I promise nothing more than that.” Set said, some of that concern casting a veil over her smitten features.

He should have warned her, should have told her how dangerous it was for her and a soldier—or anyone—to be caught together. But Ahkmenrah decided not to be angry: foolish as that might have been.

The wife of the pharaoh was to remain loyal to no other man, even if their union hardly classified as a marriage in their minds. To others, they were king and queen, and a queen could be punished for acting so adulterous.

When he smiled, the apprehension vanished from Setshepsut’s face, and her usual spirit quickly surged through her. A part of Ahk feared that fire inside of her would die if she remained stagnantly tethered to him—so he smiled and decided not to be angry.

“This is blessed news. I will gladly keep this secret for you.”

“Really?” Set almost looked surprised.

“Of course,” Ahk promised.

It wasn’t lost to him that, for her, their marriage was more akin to a life sentence of servitude. Ahkmenrah didn’t want to think about what would become of his sister if she was denied happiness her entire life. As pharaoh, he could take any number of wives to sate his own desires, but Setshepsut? Set could only ever have him, and he was not who she wanted.

“I am truly happy you have found someone, Set. But please be careful,” Ahk warned. “Even as pharaoh, I don’t know if I can protect you both should you get caught.”

“I know,” Setshepsut said softly, meeting his eyes. “Satau does too. He just—he makes me happy. I can’t really explain it beyond that.”

Her gaze turned back out over the city, that familiar guise of infatuation settling firmly across her features. As he looked at her in that stricken state of affection, Ahkmenrah couldn’t help but be envious of the love his sister had found. What followed, however, was a strong yank of sorrow pulling at his heartstrings that stirred memories and a grief he hadn’t thought of in years.

“What are you thinking about?” Set said, catching her brother’s suddenly wistful expression.

“Nouke…” Ahkmenrah whispered, and just saying her name caused his heart to hammer and to break all at once as he realized he had almost let her slip from his memory.

***

The king and queen’s perfect pantomime held strong for five years before anyone thought to question the legitimacy of their marriage. Surprisingly, Setshepsut’s infatuation with Satauhotep had broken up the monotony their routine had fallen into. Set was happier, and Ahk was happier because she was happier. The three of them could have gone on for many more years that way, but Ahk was called to an early council meeting one afternoon that chose to hinder their comfortable ritual.

The pharaoh was smart enough to know why his advisors summoned him midday to discuss important ‘family matters', and to some extent; it was odd that the council—and his father—had taken so long to bring up the issue concerning heirs. Or lack thereof, rather. And while he knew such a time would come; Ahk found he was ill-prepared to answer the questions his councilors threw at him.

“It’s not for a lack of trying,” Ahkmenrah lied.

Until then, he’d remained vague, which made his father’s glower grow significantly. The pharaoh felt horrible for lying, but that was the best way to keep their charade from seeing the light. He knew the importance of leaving behind heirs to ensure the longevity of the family bloodline. He respected that principle and would abide by it as long as Setshepsut had no part in it.

“Perhaps the queen cannot bear children,” one of the advisors suggested.

Ahkmenrah sat in his chair, listening idly to the men at his table bicker about possible reasons why the king and queen had no children. It was almost comical that none of them even considered the truth.

Finally, Merenkahre silenced them all with the raising of his hand and turned his intense eyes to his son.

“Whatever the reason is; I think it is time our pharaoh takes a second wife. If the queen will not give him children, then another will.”

Ahkmenrah sat up straighter, considerably more interested in the council meeting after hearing his father’s suggestion. His smile was difficult to keep reserved, and his stomach tingled excitedly with a hopefulness that he couldn't quite place.

“Would that be satisfactory to the king?” Meren asked, a single brow hooked high on his forehead.

“Very satisfactory,” Ahkmenrah agreed. “However, I want to choose my bride this time.”

“Yes, my thoughts as well,” his father concurred quickly, as though he already prepared for Ahk to demand such an ultimatum. “You will choose from an audience of suitors the council has deemed appropriate for you.”

A frown threatened to twist onto Ahkmenrah’s features, suddenly feeling that pleasant tingle in his stomach shift to irritation.

“Appropriate?”

“Yes, my king,” Merenkahre assured him. “Ladies who are deserving of you, and will bring you, sons and daughters.”

Trained servants to open their legs for me, is more like it, Ahk thought trying to stifle his sneer.

He wasn’t interested in women who lacked their own dreams and desires; most noble ladies he had met were no more than trained animals. They wanted nothing other than to please their powerful husband and give him sons. He wanted someone who loved him; and shared like-minded thoughts. Someone spirited and adventurous. But Ahkmenrah wasn’t allowed to be so greedy. Marriage for a pharaoh was a political stratagem and nothing more. What his mother and father had was unique for a king and queen. Every century or so, the stars aligned and two souls were allowed to join outside the normal order as Merenkahre and Shepseheret had done. Ahkmenrah was too late for that chance.

“I suppose there is no sense in trying to change your mind on that?” Ahkmenrah probed.

Merenkahre remained resolute, “It’s what’s best for Egypt.”

A bereft sigh escaped the pharaoh’s lips, and he folded.

“So be it.” Ahk stood and looked to his father. “I’ll leave the remainder of this council meeting in your capable hand's father. I need the rest of the evening to think.”

All the men at the table hurried to their feet and bowed as he left saying nothing more. He spent an hour walking in a loop through the palace halls, brooding while trying to find a silver lining in the latest obstacle laid before him. By the time he made it back to his bedchambers, both his feet and his mind were sore from their work out.

Setshepsut was already inside, lounging on a padded bench, boredly eating from a platter of fresh fruit. She threw him a smile as a greeting but nothing more. Despite her relationship with the soldier Satauhotep letting a little bit of steam out of the metaphorical pot of their marriage, the routine often still felt tiresome. Both of them would have loved to be free to do anything other than faking it.

“You’re back from council early,” she fished, as she continued snacking.

Ahkmenrah’s lips pressed into a hard line as he thought back to the discussions he’d endured while he shrugged out of his golden robes and left them in a pile near the edge of his bed. He removed his crown as well, heedlessly tossing it onto the cushion of where he slept and sauntered over to join his sister on the bench.

She offered him the platter of fruits and Ahk absently picked a date to nosh on.

“The council and father are on to us,” he sighed.

“Five years and no children? I suspect they should be.” Setshepsut shrugged. “So what has the council decided should be done about the issue?”

“I am to take another wife—father is arranging suitors for me to meet with,”

The expression on Setshepsut’s face changed from one of mild indifference to a sort of happy sadness that Ahk had not expected to find when he looked at her.

“What are you thinking?”

A rueful smile ghosted onto her lips, and she half shrugged.

“Nothing—I’m just glad…”

“Glad?” Ahk’s brows knit together.

“Yeah,” she looked at him, her big dark eyes meeting his with ample compassion. “I’m glad that you may finally find some happiness.”

Ahkmenrah looked at her adoringly. He knew her well enough to read between the lines: she was happy he may have a chance to find love, but sad she could not pursue the love she had found.

“I’m happy with you, Set,” Ahk assured her, not knowing what else to say.

“I know, me too.” More sorrow darkened her expression. “But you and I will never be completely happy this way.”

Another piece of that little girl he’d grown up with vanished in that moment causing a poignant tug on Ahkmenrah’s heart strings. She was too wise for her own good.

Ahkmenrah sighed and said nothing more, giving his sister a soft kiss to her cheek before going to distract himself with his endless stacks of papyrus’.

***

It took Merenkahre all of two days to gather an audience of suitable women for Ahkmenrah to choose from. He came to the pharaoh’s bed-chamber early that morning with a taut smile on his lips, wearing an air of pride that could almost rival the one Kahmunrah carried every day without reason.

Ahk dismissed the servants who had been helping him into his usual raiment with a wave and finished the task himself.

“There are five beautiful young ladies awaiting your approval in the throne room,” Merenkahre told him.

“I commend you for making such quick work of this issue, father,” Ahk stated, unsure if his own tone was genuine or sardonic.

Meren always pursued a task with the utmost devotion and haste. However, Ahkmenrah felt that the matter of choosing potential brides should have been executed a little slower. Nevertheless, Ahk swallowed his own irritation and threw on as genuine a smile as he could muster—if only to please his father.

“So when am I to meet them?”

“As soon as you are ready, my son,” Merenkahre said.

“Perfect.” Ahkmenrah finished dressing by placing his crown upon his head and followed his father to the throne room to meet the brides chosen for him, one of with whom he would have to spend the rest of his life with.

The pharaoh took his rightful place on the golden throne, situating himself comfortably but also as regally as he could manage. His father stood beside him and gave the order to bring the king his prospective brides.

They were all beautiful—his father was correct to tell him so. The women before him glittered like gemstones, draped in finery that almost eclipsed his own. Each one was brought before him, introduced like a product for purchase (a rather off-putting notion for the pharaoh) and primly stepped aside for the next one to be ushered in.

Three of them were daughters of respected noble families Ahk knew to be of Waset. Another was the niece of one of his councilors, and the last, who was vaguely familiar to him. Nensala was from Men-nefer, and the youngest daughter of Sefkh: the man who hosted him and his father all those years ago in his city. He recalled her kindness and how much she reminded him of Setshepsut; Ahkmenrah was glad to see at least one familiar face before him.

“I am heartened by your beauty, and your presence, my ladies,” Ahkmenrah stated, taking on his best official-sounding bravado. “I invite you to share my home for the next few weeks, so that I may get to know each of you before I make my decision.”

Ahk instructed his servants to ready chambers for each of them.

“Please, take this evening to get settled. I will call upon you in the coming days.”

The women all graced him with gleaming smiles and bowed as they were escorted out of the throne room and to their own chambers.

Over the course of two weeks, Ahkmenrah upheld his end of the bargain he and his father had come to and devoted as much of his time as he could to acquainting himself with the ladies chosen to be his bride. He was hopeful in the beginning—longing to harness merely a sliver of potential love, but little by little that hope waned. The pharaoh tried to find a connection between each of them he courted, but despite all the kindling, nothing sparked. It was as he feared: each of them wanted nothing more than to serve him. They lacked dreams and wisdom that made people so unique.

After a week of nothing but wholehearted attempts to find a woman who he would be glad to name as his wife, with nothing to show for it but exhaustion of mind and soul, Ahkmenrah chose to take one evening for himself. His chambers were quiet and blessedly free of suitors who shared no more in common with him then the plants in the gardens.

He was laying across his bed, eyes locked with the tall ceiling, swimming through his own thoughts when Setshepsut came to visit.

“Hello,” he said in a dark monotone that matched the heaviness in his heart.

She laid beside her brother when he motioned for her to join by patting the empty space next to him. Her eyes stayed fixated at the hieroglyphs etched onto the ceiling as well, for a long time. Ahk felt some of the tension begin to ebb with the quiet company of his sister, once again grateful that it was Setshepsut he was bound to.

“What’s wrong with them?” Set finally asked.

Ahkmenrah only shrugged.

“Well surely there must be something wrong with them--they are all so beautiful.” Setshepsut teased, elbowing his side gently.

Ahk, however, sighed and frowned, not in the mood for her wit.

“That is the problem. They have beauty alone.”

Set was quiet a moment, then turned on her side, propping her head on her elbow.

“Don’t most men only want pretty wives?”

A slow smile crept onto his lips in spite of his sour mood, and he rolled his eyes.

“Forgive me for holding such high standards. I happen to have been raised around a slew of women who were both beautiful and smart. Is it too selfish of me to want both of my wives to be this way?”

They both began to chuckle. Heartened, genuine laughs that the two of them had not shared in a long time, bringing tears to their eyes and a dull ache in their muscles from how hard they’d let go. For a moment, the entire world was made up of only the two of them, and it was a welcomed feeling to be free of reality, even if only for a few seconds.

When the laughter settled, and gentle smiles were all that remained of their fit of giggles, Ahk’s mind began to wander into those almost forgotten times when the golden shackles he wore held a longer chain. Memories stirred of his childhood, and the one person who he was sad no longer was a part of his life.

“I wonder what happened to Nouke after she and her family left?” he thought aloud before he could stop himself.

Nearly a decade had passed since he last saw his friend from the garden. He hoped she was still just as spirited as he remembered.

“I imagine she’s somewhere happily married, with a handful of children who love her…” he mused with a sad smile.

He could feel Set’s eyes upon his face, but Ahk’s stayed transfixed in the space above him, his mind still drawing images of Nouke and the family she may have.

“Ahkmen?” Setshepsut said a while later in a voice only an octave above a whisper.

“Hhmm?”

“Do you think the reason you find it so difficult to give your heart to one of these girls is because you gave it away a long time ago...to Nouke?”

Finally, Ahkmenrah’s eyes tore away from the ceiling, blown wide with realization as he gazed at his sister. She knew him better than he knew himself.

Set smiled at the look of shock on her brother's face and returned to her previous position of staring at the ceiling.

“You mustn’t lose hope that you will never find love again. Don’t waste the freedom that you hold, and I lack. Please.”

Despite the deep-rooted sadness in her tone, Ahkmenrah still found hope lingering just beneath the surface of her features. Seeing him freely court others was beginning to dampen her spirit; it hurt her that she couldn’t do the same with the man she loved without fear. Set did well to mask that ache though.

Ahk turned his eyes back to the ceiling and slid his hand to hold hers—a comfort both knew to show their understanding.

“I will have Satauhotep added to your personal guard. That way, the two of you may be seen together without cause for suspicion. It’s not a lot--”

Set squeezed his fingers, and cut him off, “It’s enough.”

***

After two weeks, only one suitor remained, Nensala, although, in the pharaoh’s mind, he had already dismissed her as he had the others. There was, however, an intriguing allure to her for Ahkmenrah that none of the other brides had. She was the only one whom he had known previously. Nensala was eleven the last time he saw her the night before an assassin sought to take his life while he slept.

When he met her in the courtyard, her beauty threw a veil over the little girl in his memories; she was a vision in the dulling light of the afternoon. Her skin was delicate against his when she took the arm he offered, and her smile was almost a song as she leaned against his side. It would have been easy to get lost in her physical beauty, but Ahkmenrah was determined to find a bride whose soul matched his own.

He led her on a leisure stroll throughout his palace and its grounds as he had all the others, doing his best to keep his mind away from Nouke. In fact, he'd found it hard not to dwell on his friend from the garden ever since his mind allowed her to settle into the forefront of his memory. Ahkmenrah’s heart yearned for her, yearned to be present in her enchanting spirit that he adored in his youth. It was she whom he had compared all of his potential brides to, and none of them could fill the hole her absence had left inside him.

“Forgive me, my king. But you seem distracted.” Nensala’s voice was soft when she spoke.

Ahkmenrah blinked back to reality, finding they had wandered into the West Garden, and a mirthless chuckle escaped his pursed lips.

“Fitting,” he quipped, glancing around as if to look for his friend he knew wouldn’t be there.

Nensala’s eyes followed his, her forehead creasing with puzzlement as she turned back to look at him.

“What is?”

A poignant ache tightened in his stomach taking in the empty garden and the silent histories hidden there. He wanted to speak of his friend, their adventures; to reminisce freely, but that would not be kingly.

“I spent a lot of my youth in this garden,” Ahk mused. “With my friend Nouke.”

“Nouke?” “She was a servant girl—we were inseparable."

A gentle smile lit up Nensala’s face, and she took his hand and led him to the edge of the fountain. She urged him to sit beside her on its wide edge, and spoke.

“Tell me about her.”

A grin unfurled slowly on his face, only too happy to speak of his friend. He told her of all the games they would play, all the scorching afternoons they spent splashing in the waters of the fountain. The pharaoh spoke of everything except the secret passage they used to venture along the Nile; those memories were sacred to him, kept safely locked away in his heart.

“What happened to her?”

A frown twisted the nostalgic smile off of Ahkmenrah’s face, and he shrugged.

“Her family left our services. By the time I returned from my travels across Egypt, she was gone. I haven’t seen her since.”

“That’s sad,” Nensala murmured, with a genuine ruefulness.

“Mmm,” Ahkmenrah hummed, his mind lost again in thoughts of Nouke. “I think that’s why I have had such trouble finding another bride…”

“None of us are her…” Nensala finished for him, and for the first time, he truly looked at her.

Her sorrow for him was palpable, and it made his heart feel warm.

“I can understand that,” she said, taking his hand in hers. “There was this boy who came to visit my city years ago; he was so kind, and handsome—with a head full of dreams. My father has had a terrible time trying to find me a husband because no man he has ever brought me has been him.”

Suddenly, Ahkmenrah’s heart was aching for her and for himself. Did she truly see him? See past the golden raiment? She’d been the only one so far to even kindle something more than mediocre conversation.

“What happened to him?” Ahk asked, truly curious.

She grinned, and the sparkle in her stormy eyes made his heart race.

“He returned to the capital and became pharaoh, taking his sister for a wife.”

Before her words had time to register she scooted closer and leaned to kiss him softly—a test to gauge his reaction. Although his mind was still overrun with thoughts of Nouke, Ahkmenrah found his eyes closing, returning Nensala’s chaste kiss; all of those latent desires bursting with rapid heat.

It was the first time that he’d been touched since his marriage. There had been many who had caught his eye during a feast or festival he'd hosted; ladies he wanted nothing more than to make his for a night as he’d done countless times before gaining a queen. However, Ahk felt it too unfair—perhaps even cruel—to act so heedlessly on his desires when Setshepsut could not. Over the years those urges had grown numb until Nensala made him realize just how touch starved he truly was.

When she pulled away, there was a slight pinkish hue tinting her cheeks, and she let her eyes fall from his in mild embarrassment.

“Forgive me, my king, for my forwardness.”

He placed a finger under her chin and tilted her head until her eyes met his own. Lust was spreading like fire inside of him; a gnawing desperation for the need to touch and to be touched clouding all rational thoughts in his mind. A frown began to turn Nensala’s features, a result of his gawking silence, but before she could look away, Ahkmenrah claimed her mouth with a ravenous desire.

His tongue quickly flicked along her lips, stealing a taste, that caused her to open for him with a sigh—her own yearning an echo of his own. Ahk’s hands framed her face, urging her to close the gap between them, not wanting her mouth to leave his until he’d had his fill.

They were both gasping when they broke away, and he found her eyes twinkling with wonderment. Her fingers trailed along his jaw, drawing him to her mouth again and Ahk met her halfway. There was a desperation in the way their lips danced, passion too, or perhaps it was simply lust. Nevertheless, Ahkmenrah was consumed. She whimpered a bereft cry when he broke their kiss again, but he took Nensala by the hand and whisked her away to the privacy of his bed-chamber.

Ahkmenrah was glad to find his room empty—Setshepsut nowhere to be seen. For a fleeting moment, a pang of guilt wrestled his lust hazed mind, thinking about his sister and the actions their marriage forbid only she from doing. However, he didn’t dwell on it; he needed to feel something. He only hoped Setshepsut would understand.

Nensala’s eyes took in the grandeur of the pharaoh’s chamber with wonderment and a smile and when her eyes found his bed, she glanced back at him with a coy smirk.

“My king?” she asked, and he answered with a nod of consent.

She approached him slowly, and he watched, hanging on her every movement, taking in just how thin the linen of her gown was. Delicate hands removed his crown, weaving through his hair and when she pulled his bottom lip between her teeth, licking the sensitive skin, heat pooled in his groin.

His guilt was at war with his desire; and his desire was winning. Ahk’s eyes slid shut at the surge of pleasure her every touch invoked. Deft fingers snaked down his back, spurring a wave of goosebumps over his flesh, as she worked to loosen the fastenings of his wesekh, laying kisses to his jaw as she did. The jeweled collar fell heedlessly between them to the ground, his golden robes slipping from his shoulders in a heap alongside it.

Before Nensala’s hands could finish their downward trajectory, Ahkmenrah grabed her wrists and pulls away from her kisses. At that moment, the pharaoh considered ordering her to leave him so he could retain his silent vow of abstinence a while longer, but his will betrayed him.

With a wordless instruction, he nodded towards his bed. That same, impish smirk unfurled on her lips as she turned to do as her king commanded and perched herself on its edge. Without ceremony, Ahkmenrah removed the rest of his garments, leaving all of them a forgotten pile on the floor.

Her eyes never strayed from his as he trod across the room, stopping to loom over her. The intensity in her eyes matched the burning in his core and when she stood, Nensala pushed the straps of her dress from her shoulders, allowing it to fall in a whisper from her body. Ahk pulled her against him, his fingertips pressing possessively into the soft flesh of her hips, reveling in the feel of her breasts against his chest. That sudden friction sparked a moan from deep within both. When Ahkmenrah kissed her again, it was fervent and powerful, the kiss of a virile king and Nensala surrendered herself to him, allowing her pharaoh to chase away all of his desires begging to be set free.

For the first time in a long time, Ahkmenrah felt a sense of peace come over him—no matter how minuscule it was. It was as though his spirit was anew and the air that filled his lungs was inherently more soothing. Losing himself in another person allowed him to find the pieces of him that had been missing for longer than he cared to remember. In his heart, he still missed his friend, but perhaps he’d found room to learn to love the woman in his bed.

He called for his servants to bring them a tray of fresh fruits and breads to share as they lounged in cheerful company telling stories. Nen spoke of her family back home—her older sisters and their husbands, her brothers and their wives, and all of her nieces and nephews. In return Ahk spoke of his own family. He couldn’t help but find her presence wholly inviting, and yet his mind never failed to trail back to his friend from the garden.

In an attempt to deter the thoughts of Nouke, Ahkmenrah finally mustered the courage to ask the one question that none of his other potential brides could answer correctly: what was it she wanted out of life, what dreams did she have?

Nensala thought for a moment, her lighthearted expression growing pensive as she really considered her answer.

“There are many places I would love to see—the pyramids. They’ve always intrigued me; the stories there. They’re but a half day’s journey from Men-nefer, but I’ve never gone. And the way you spoke of the Mediterranean? I’d love to see those blue waters.”

Ahk listened to her avidly as a hopefulness began to take root in his bones. All he wanted was to share his life with someone who he could love, who harnessed the same sense of adventure and adoration for making the most of every day. However, the wistful expression on Nensala’s face fell when she sighed.

“What I want doesn’t matter, though. What does is your happiness, my king.”

Her words were like a knife to him. All of that hope vanished, and he felt knots tighten in his stomach.

“I could make you happy,” she smirked, not taking notice of his suddenly cold expression. “I have already, haven’t I?”

Defeat quickly washed away all the pieces of him he’d thought he’d recovered in her company. She was like all the rest—he was merely a prize that she was ready to bow and succumb to. She held no conviction of her own or integrity. Nensala was trained like all the other brides had been.

“Yes,” he said finally, fighting hard to keep from frowning.

Their conversation lulled soon after, and Ahkmenrah demanded she left, offering no reason. Nensala didn’t question him—more evidence of his fear. He walked her to his door and thanked her for her company, laying a kiss to her cheek and bid her goodnight.

***

Be it from his own guilt, or the simple want to do something nice for his sister; Ahkmenrah arranged for Satauhotep to join them for a private dinner soon after all the suitors were gone. The modest soiree provided a much-needed distraction from everything that was making the pharaoh’s life significantly less enchanting. His father was unpleased that he ordered his potential brides to leave, he missed Nouke more than he ever had before, and he needed a break from it all.

Set was overjoyed with the idea of a dinner together. Satauhotep however, looked understandably alarmed to find the pharaoh seated at the table they were to share in the secluded dining chamber.

He quickly relinquished Setshepsut’s hand and fell to his knees, muttering a firm, “My king!”, as he did.

“There is no need for such formality here,” Ahkmenrah said with a smirk. “You may rise.”

Setshepsut helped him stand, and that same look of alarm was on his face when he met the pharaoh’s gaze.

“May I speak freely, my king?” Satauhotep swallowed nervously.

“Of course, I would have it no other way.”

The soldier's eyes drifted between Setshepsut and his king, and he swallowed again before he spoke.

“What is the meaning of this invitation?”

Ahkmenrah smiled and looked at his sister.

“This is my gift to her. And I thought it time I finally met you.”

Satauhotep’s nervousness began to meld into panic, but Setshepsut took his hand to calm him.

“It’s okay, Satau. He knows—he’s known for a while,” she assured him, kissing his cheek.

Color slowly started to come back to the soldier’s features as his mind worked through what Setshepsut confessed, and he looked to Ahkmenrah for some form of reassurance.

“Set told me years ago the two of you met. I only apologize it’s taken me this long to have officially met you.”

A heavy line creased his forehead and surely a hundred questions flooded into his mind.

“W-why am I not being reprimanded? To court your queen—that’s punishable by death.”

“What my sister and I share is a contract, written on a scroll of papyrus by my father—it’s political and nothing more. We’ve been playing our roles for the public alone. Otherwise, our union has been inordinately platonic.”

Satauhotep blinked, confusion drifting over his face as visible as clouds in the sky.

“But I escort you to the pharaoh’s chambers each night—you don’t…?”

Set chuckled, “We play Senet for hours—Ahkmen’s terrible.”

“I taught you how to play Senet,” Ahkmenrah quipped throwing a soured look to his sister.

“You’re still terrible.” She shrugged.

The pharaoh rolled his eyes as he smirked.

“I never told you any of this because it was easiest to keep it between Ahkmen and myself,” Set told him.

“And if you vow not to tell a soul that Set and I are putting on a ruse,” Ahk said. “I promise that I will keep your relationship with my sister a secret.”

For the first time, Satauhotep’s features broke into a smile, and he accepted, pulling Set in for a deep kiss that filled Ahk’s heart with a bubbling warmth to witness.

The rest of the evening progressed calmly and the pharaoh let himself fade into the background, allowing his sister and her lover some real time so their love could blossom. Watching them together overwhelmed him with both joy and sadness. Their affection for one another enveloped the other in a tangible glow that was brighter than all the lamps and torches combined. A thousand words of poetry drifted between them in the quiet of their intimate glances.

Ahkmenrah found himself turning away just to give them a moment of the privacy they longed to have; it pained him they could not act on what they shared. His actions with Nensala were brought on by unsated lust and greed, on his end, and hers; there was no love there. After seeing what it was his sister was aching to have, Ahkmenrah hated himself even more for giving in.

When Ahkmenrah excused himself, Set gave him a questioning look, but he assured her that no one would bother them, as long as they stayed in that chamber. He bid them both goodnight and returned to his own chamber feeling profoundly tired—worn thin by the cards life had dealt him.

Ahkmenrah wasn’t sure how late it was, or how long after he’d excused himself from dinner when Setshepsut came into his chamber, a vision of love and practically floating across the floor. He welcomed her tight hug gladly, tired of looking out over the city with longing as he thought.

“Thank you, so much, Ahkmen.” She spoke against his chest as she gripped him tighter with her appreciation.

Ahkmenrah hugged her back just as tightly, relishing in the sweetness of her words and the tone that accompanied them.

“Will you sit with me a second? I need to speak to you.”

Concern darkened her carefree demeanor, and she sat next to him on the bench against the balcony railing. Her worry only lessened when Ahkmenrah cast her a gentle smile and took her hands in his.

“I approve wholeheartedly of Satauhotep. He’s kind and strong—the kind of man who can love and protect you in ways that I am unable to.”

Setshepsut grinned and squeezed his fingers.

“I’ve decided; I will find a bride, soon. That way, I can release you from this marriage—you and Satauhotep can be together without fear.”

After watching his sister and her lover, Ahkmenrah realized that his own happiness mattered little to him, and he’d come to accept his time to truly be happy had come and gone in his youth. Kings had to make sacrifices. And if he could grant Setshepsut a life of happiness with someone she loved by making another sacrifice, Ahkmenrah knew he could live the remainder of his days content with the knowledge she was with someone she wanted. Perhaps in time, he could learn to sacrifice even more and learn to love someone like Nensala--someone cut off from the importance of dreams, who strove only to serve him and nothing more. Ahkmenrah dreaded when that day would come, but a part of him knew it would be inevitable. A king needed his queen…

Set lunged forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into another hug as she thanked him more profusely than she had before. There were tears of joy in her eyes when she pulled away, she wiped at them sloppily and gauged him with a new concern, easily reading the heartache on his features.

“You should find her.”

“Who?” He knew already, but still he asked.

“Nouke. It’s possible she could be longing for you somewhere out there as well.”

Setshepsut gave his hands a squeeze again, and Ahkmenrah felt the threat of tears prickle his eyes, but his were not ones of joy.

“Nouke knew a long time ago our paths would always be split: the pharaoh, and the servant…”

Set kissed the back of his hand sweetly, in an act he knew meant she didn’t want him to give up so easily.

“It’s not so strange—the queen and the soldier. Unlikely, but titles don’t define us. You are both more and less than a pharaoh, as she is both more and less than a servant. Mostly, we're all just flesh.”

She left him with another chaste kiss to his cheek, and to ponder her wisdom, which is exactly what he did.

Next Chapter-> Chapter Six: Divided

#Ahkmenrah #Ahkmenrah x Original Character #Ahkmenrah Fanfiction #NATM #NATM Fanfiction #Rami Malek Character #Rami Malek Character Fanfiction #Rami Malek Fanfiction #Rami Malek #Left to Ruin

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vexy-sins · 4 years

Text

Lending a Hand: A SpicyHoney Drabble

(I get a lot of requests for SpicyHoney and sub!Edge, and I also got a request for consensual fisting that didn’t make it into Kinktober. I decided to combine the three into this masterpiece. The dry spell is over!)

Warning: explicit sexual content, language, oral sex, vaginal sex, fisting (consensual), gaping, masturbation, creampie

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The Great and Terrible Papyrus (alias Edge), Captain of the Royal Guard, commanded respect and demanded obedience from any monster who dared to cross his path. He enforced order and defended Underfell’s tyrant with swift brutality, but behind closed doors, he was an entirely different monster. When it came to sex, he preferred it rough, and he liked to be the submissive partner. Nobody in his universe could know his dirty little secret, so he’d found a lover elsewhere, a skeleton monster from a universe called Underswap- a Papyrus-type who called himself Stretch.

Edge’s usual style was submissive, sure, but under the influence of his heat cycle the imposing skeleton monster became downright needy… and utterly insatiable. As the dominant partner and a self-proclaimed lazybones, Stretch sometimes struggled to keep up with his desperate and demanding lover.

“MORE,” whimpered Edge, red tinged tears gathered in his sockets, “I NEED MORE.”

Stretch’s mid-afternoon couch nap- a necessity really- had been interrupted by Edge pawing at his pelvis and begging to suck him off. Edge’s eagerness and the flush across his cheekbones were all it took to convince Stretch’s magic to form a thick, throbbing erection. All the dedicated lazybones had to do was lay back and enjoy the feel of his lover’s mouth, which he did with a tired but satisfied groan.

Edge ended up swallowing two hot, sticky loads from Stretch: one lovingly coaxed from his cock with Edge’s dextrous tongue and insistent sucking, the other pumped deep into his throat with Stretch’s phalanges digging into his skull to hold him steady. Finally fully awake and with the scent of Edge’s pheromones filling his nasal cavity, Stretch had pushed the battle-scarred skeleton onto his hands and knees on the floor. Edge was so slick with arousal that Stretch skipped foreplay and immediately buried himself in the silky heat of the tight crimson pussy.

Unfortunately, three intense orgasms left Stretch spent and Edge writhing in agonizing sexual frustration, his body burning with maddening unfulfilled need. Stretch wished he could do more; he hated to see Edge suffer like this during his heat.

A thin strand of cum still connected Stretch’s semi-hard cock to Edge’s battered and gaping pussy. Stretch could see the angular skeleton’s fluttering hole, overflowing with honey-colored cum. His own cock wore a thick layer of his lover’s juices, and it twitched at the sight of Edge with his coccyx in the air and his face pressed into the carpet. Despite the tempting view, Stretch didn’t think he could manage another round of pounding that sweet little pussy.

“gimme a few minutes. i’m runnin’ on empty.” Stretch stroked his cock, tacky arousal sticking to his phalanges as he tried to resuscitate his erection to no avail.

“USE YOUR HAND,” mewled Edge, rubbing at his own clit in a futile quest for any sort of relief.

“babe, i don’t think fingering is gonna do it for you...”

“NOT YOUR FINGERS. YOUR HAND!”

For a comical moment, Stretch stared at his hand, not comprehending the distinction. What could Edge possibly mean? He clenched and unclenched his fist a few times before realization dawned on him.

“you... want me to... fist you?” A shiver traveled down Stretch’s spine; his cock responded to the mental image with another twitch. Fuck, the thought of fisting Edge turned him on.

“HURRY,” begged Edge, wiggling his coccyx enticingly. Even with his pussy gaping and dripping their mingled fluids, Stretch doubted his entire hand could fit, but Edge obviously wanted this badly. Stretch braced one hand on his lover’s hip, curled his phalanges into a fist and rubbed his knuckles experimentally against Edge’s greedy cunt, which somehow spread open even further to swallow him.

Slowly and carefully, Stretch pushed his fist into Edge’s pussy. He didn’t even need to ask if Edge was doing alright because the once proud skeleton panted and drooled with his angular features pressed into the carpet, occasionally managing a muffled scream for “MORE” or “HARDER” penetration. As Stretch’s wrist slid past his entrance, stretching his pussy walls to their limit and far past it, Edge’s words became a delirious babble.

Stretch could feel Edge’s pussy trying and failing to clench around him. The muscles couldn’t grip the girth of his fist and forearm. It felt amazing to feel Edge from the inside, to split him open so completely… and he hadn’t even started to move yet!

Breathing heavily, though from arousal rather than exertion, Stretch slowly pulled his arm backwards. Edge’s pussy dragged at him, reluctant to release such a delightful toy. Relenting, Stretch filled his lover’s hole with his fist and forearm once more. His cock twitched a third time, more powerfully than before, a response to the heady pleasure of sinking himself into his lover’s pussy.

Unwilling to put pleasure before safety, however, Stretch quickly checked on Edge.

“you alri-” he started to ask, but Edge’s demanding keening interrupted him.

“DON’T STOP!” Edge wailed, his clawed phalanges scabbling for purchase on the carpet as Stretch shoved his fist as deep inside of him as it would go then immediately yanked it back and slammed it in again. Edge’s entire body rocked with the force of Stretch’s thrusts, and his tongue lolled from his open jaws as he panted and moaned, the rough fist-fucking finally satisfying his deep primal ache to be fucked into oblivion.

Stretch gripped one of Edge’s asscheeks to brace himself as he pumped his fist in and out of Edge, faster and faster until moans spilled from his own mouth. The rhythm, the sounds- moans, squelches, and breathless gasping, the sight of Edge’s juices, thick and sticky, staining his radius and ulna, and the feel of Edge’s ecto-flesh under his phalanges and around his fist brought his cock back to full throbbing life. Stretch could tell Edge was nearing his peak though. His own pleasure could wait.

Orgasm wracked Edge’s scarred body a moment later. His entire frame shuddered with the force of it. He didn’t squirt so much as he gushed fluid down his femurs and onto the floor, over and over again. Stretch didn’t stop thrusting until Edge’s cries and his cum finally subsided. Once he was sure that Edge’s heat had been well and thoroughly satisfied, Stretch pulled his arm free, grabbed his cock with cum-slicked fingers and began to jerk himself off.

The lanky skeleton kept his other hand resting on Edge’s round ass, staring at his gaping, glistening pussy and reliving every sweet second of filling his lover up over and over again and how good that tightness always felt squeezing his cock, milking out every single drop of cum he had to offer. It didn’t take long before Stretch came, shooting strands of hot, thick cum over Edge’s ass and into his fluttering cunt.

Exhausted, Stretch sat back and admired his hand-iwork. The lazybones chuckled to himself. Too bad this would be a very inappropriate time for a pun… not that Stretch ever let that stop him. Standing up and holding out his clean hand to Edge, he quipped: “need a hand?”

The battle-hardened Royal Guard Captain couldn’t even form an indignant outcry. He sprawled on the floor, eyes clouded by waves of euphoria, drooling on himself with his coccyx in the air and their mingled cum running down his femurs.

Stretch sighed and pulled Edge into his arms, carrying him upstairs for a relaxing and very necessary bath. Usually, Stretch didn’t handle the cleanup, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave his proud lover such a literal and figurative mess. He only hoped his brother wouldn’t see him and get some ridiculous ideas about chores….

More (NSFW) Drabbles | INDEX | Read on AO3

#vex does drabbles #spicyhoney #sub!edge #and no stretch did not clean up the carpet

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