#clamor papyrus

[satellite-starss]

Crux? Will you tell your brother about..the power you withhold? Or no? 🫤

#asks #satellitesart✨ #undertale #crux sans #undertale au #utmv #undertale multiverse #clamor papyrus #i haven’t draw him in so long!!:’0

[punsmaster69]

5/FEB/20XX

"HERE YOU ARE, FLOWERY."

chocolate chips were mixed into the batter per his request, and it's decorated neatly with whipped cream and some fruit.

papyrus delicately set the plate of pancakes in front of flowey with a flourish of his hand and a bow.

"BEAUTIFULLY ARRANGED, PREPARED, AND PRESENTED BY YOURS TRULY!"

my brother never expects a thank you from him, but i notice flowey open his mouth for a second before changing his mind.

apparently motivated by "the prospect of an extra-sugary breakfast" according to toriel, flowey decided to stay the night rather than going home yesterday.

he's surprisingly quiet.

was complaining about a neck pain from sleeping funny and the only comment flowey had was

"You're just old."

"yeah."

after eating, he's gonna go hang out with papyrus. they're already discussing puzzles.

..well. 𝘱𝘢𝘱𝘺𝘳𝘶𝘴 is discussing, flowey is listening. (probably.)

i think frisk's coming over to bug me, judging by the poorly typed texts about some difficult level in a game.

——

they flopped over defeatedly.

"Saansss hellppp meee."

"you're giving up, huh?"

"Wh-"

that snapped something in them. fire returned to their eyes, bolting upright and re-grabbing the controller.

"No way!"

"that's the spirit. get back in there and die a hundred more times."

shushing motion.

"hey, i'll have hope. i believe in you."

putting my hand on their shoulder.

"you'll probably only die around eighty times."

sticking their tongue out at me and shrugging my hand off their shoulder, frisk focused once again.

——

so.

the hard part? they got past it, but...

are now immediately stuck on a different part.

papyrus came clamoring back into the house with flowey in his arms, grabbed something from his room, and was gone in a flash.

giving frisk a quick pat on the head, i rose from the couch and stepped into the backyard to see what the other two were doing.

"YOU COULDN'T JUST WALK?"

"uses magic."

"....FAIR POINT."

"what're you up to?"

"Updating this board game to have more traps and puzzles."

"and you're outside because...?"

"FLOWERY WANTED TO BE IN THE SUN!"

"gotta photosynthesize? i get it."

"I am NOT photosynthesizing!"

"hey, i'm not judging."

"I'm not!"

"like i said, no judgement."

"Ironically."

a gentle breeze blew through. i stopped to take in the nice weather.

"it 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀 feel pretty good."

"i'm bringing frisk out."

stepping back into the doorway of the house. i watched the tv screen and waited until they died again to speak.

"y'know."

a shout of surprise from frisk before they whipped around to face me.

"on days like these..."

"kids like you should definitely be outside enjoying the sun."

"c'mon."

frisk looked between the tv screen, me, and the window. they resigned with a sigh and turned the game off.

"I'll beat it some other time."

one last time, i stepped into the backyard. running, frisk appeared from around the side of the house a moment later.

——

wanting to do something more physically intensive than sit around and make puzzles for a board game, frisk invited undyne and monster kid over to play kickball.

they've only popped one ball thus far, so they're doing well.

i think papyrus'll join them before long.

——

a stray kick sent a ball flying at my skull, so papyrus now has me in a

"BOX OF BROTHERLY PROTECTION!"

of bones under the shade of a tree.

flowey would be in the box too, it's just his pot and their altered board game with me. the flower himself is roaming around the yard doing who-knows-what. stretching his roots, i suppose.

——

"You gotta go home at SOME point, punks. Can't stay here forever."

monster kid and frisk both pouted.

"Papyrus wouldn't mind!!"

"Yeah! Plus the sun's not even fully set yet."

"she's right, kiddos. you really should be getting home."

flowey grumbled impatiently from papyrus' arm. i picked up his pot and offered it towards him.

"you wanna hop in there instead of coiling my brother's arm like a snake?"

"Whenever Frisk quits whining and we can go home I will."

"I'm not whining!"

"That's a hundred percent whining!"

"It's reasoning."

"It's whining."

"Shut up."

flowey used his vines to raise papyrus' arm and make him lift the middle finger.

"!?"

papyrus covered his hand and shoved his arm back down immediately.

"FLOWEY!"

"DO NOT FORCE SUCH RUDE GESTURES FROM ME!!!"

flowey's expression flickered with a look of shock for a second. he let out something like a scoff.

"FRISK, I'M SO SORRY!!"

"It's okay. I know it was that meanie head's doing."

"ok. definitely time for you to go home."

i offered my hand to frisk, and paps put flowey back in the pot.

"i know a shortcut."

undyne pat monster kid on the head.

"Come on, I'll walk you."

——

"Oh! You are home. I do not remember hearing the door-"

i waved.

"I see."

"Greetings, Sans."

with a soft smile.

" 'sup."

"Thank you for bringing them back. I hope they were not much trouble."

i glanced at flowey, who seemed to be thinking about something.

"they're good kids. shouldn't worry about 'em so much."

"I know... still, I am glad to hear that they have been behaving."

"Ah!"

"Do not let me hold you from getting home yourself."

i glanced again to where flowey was, but he and frisk went into their room.

gently, i lifted her hand to my face to replicate kissing the top of it. (with my lack of lips and all.)

" 'night, tori."

before disappearing, and flopping onto my bed.

#undertale #journal #sans #papyrus #flowey #papyrus and sans #sans and papyrus #frisk #frisk and sans #sans and frisk #sans and flowey #undyne #monster kid #toriel #soriel #sans x toriel

[bonetrousled]

i need to find the papyrus “he is going to tell my fucking boss” post where is it. desperately clamoring

#txt

[modelingtale]

Modeling tale ! (lenguage pt br) original story

Part1

Todos sabemos como as Aus se encontram em completas brigas frenéticas e em completo caos e desordens, tantos resetes tantos monstros mortos, Aus brigando entre si, uns tentando proteger o equilíbrio do universo enquanto outros destruindo seus próprios universos…… outros pela metade….

Porem desse gritos e clamores das almas mortes, veio a esperança, longe de todo esse tumulto longe do mundo de Ink sans surgiu uma garotinha, criada da profunda angustia e desejo de paz dos monstros e humano.

Ela não sabia o que estava acontecendo, só se lembrava de ter acordado ali e que seu nome por alguma razão era EEva naquele lugar isolado e totalmente solitária e com medo, quando ela viu de baixo de suas mão vida crescer, aquelas flores brotando no chão  e grama crescendo a seu redor, enquanto andava, logo ela se viu tomada de um grande sentimento de profunda alegria e felicidade, um sentimento de amor e dedicação um sentimento de RENOVAÇÃO, então ela recebeu cores, seus olhos são extremamente profundo como as nebulosas do espaço, seu cabelo longo sem cor virou um cabelo loiro claro e belo, sua pele branca mais macia que a neve, e seu vestido branco e longo.

Enquanto ela andava pelo mundo e espalhando suas belas flores pelo chão, um papyrus de outro mundo teve sua vida arrecada novamente, porem sua alma foi levada para longe, evitando de ser resetado, sua poeira vagou por todas as aus ate sair do multiverso…. Vagou pelo mundo do ink e foi para muito e muito longe…

Então um dia o mundo de EEva e dele se cruzaram, o pó caiu na sua grama e ela ficou curiosa com aquele monte de pó, ela o pegou e se perguntou o que faria com aquilo, pensando em numeras possibilidades como uma brincadeira de criança ela decide soprar o pó para ver ele se Espanha (de forma ingênua claro, por ela ter uma mentalidade inocente e é curiosa) foi então que com seu FOLEGO DE VIDA ela REVIVEU aquele Papyrus.

Quando eles se viram ele se assustou e ficou com medo, pois avia um humano na sua frente, porem ele ficou curioso porque aquele humano era diferente, onde foi cortada sua cabeça ficou uma cicatriz preta permanente, ele perguntou o que avia acontecido, e agarota explicou tudo a ele, então ele ficou supresso, quer dizer era impossível um Monstro reviver como um humano ate então…. Ele ficou completamente curioso.

Ele queria fugir, mas alguma coisa dizia que aquele humano era especial, então dele decidiu proteger aquela garota partir dali ele começou a aprender a abrir portais para dimensões e também trazia material de modelar para distrai-la, porque ele possui muito medo que ela acabasse caindo me mãos erradas, pois ele sabia como os multiversos eram perigosos… se ela caísse em mãos erradas poderia ser muito ruim, então ele tenta manter em segredos.

Foi então que numa dessas viagens ele decidiu trazer massinha de modelar, então a garota quis modelar um coelho (parecido com um dos livros que ele trouxe a ela), porem o coelho era uma bolinha felpuda com perninhas curtas , ela dizia o que ele poderia fazer, fazer tocas magicas especiais para que papyrus não se cansasse de abrir portais para ajudar ela, para que papyrus pudesse descaçar , ele ria e fazia carinho em sua cabeça, enquanto ela modelava ela sentia uma energia em sua alma saindo de seu Corpo então do nada aquela argila se transformou em macios pelos carne e osso, um coelho de verdade!

Au original MODELINGTALE: @teensadventuresstudio @modelingtale

[anechomirrored]

Fandom: Undertale, Underfell

Rating: T

Prompt(s): "Check that again, are you sure?"

Warnings: minor to mid level swear words complements of Red.

Red handed Sans the wrench and went back to untangling several lengths of wire.

They were, once again, in the basement. Concrete walls and bare lightbulbs giving the room all the welcoming atmosphere of a prison.

Even the 'cool shed' back in his own universe was more welcoming than this place.

~heh, his pap hated when he called the interigation shed that.~

Sans raised his head up from behind the cobbled mess of his machine and accepted the offered tool. The shadows under his sockets were terrible even for him.

"thanks, buddy." His voice was tired and scratchy .

" yeesh, you you sound like me. ya've been down here all night, haven't you?"

" maybe? is it still wednesday?"

"it's may now, bud." Red deapanned.

"huh, don't know her. may-be you can introduce us."

Red made a face.

"even your jokes are tired. come on, dinner is almost ready."

"nope."

Red rolled his eyelights.

Did this guy have to be as stubborn as he was? Guess that was how alternates worked, but hell! Sans had turned away to keep sluggishly working on the rear electrical panel.

"look pal, i know getting this clunker fixed is important. hell, its me and my bro's ticket out o' this gooey little universe! But ya can't just stay down here three days in a row and think your bro ain't gonna start worrying over ya again." Red sat down the wires and turned to face the stairs.

The clink of metal tools on metal parts ceased.

"paps is worried?" Sans asked.

Red could hear the all too familiar expression of guilt spreading over his features.

Red sighed.

"he's havin' kittens up there, comedian and you are the only one not making an appearance for dinner anymore." He really didn't want to pull the Papyrus card but he had been here himself before, and that lesson had been much harder learned in his less forgiving universe.

There was a pause and then Sans shoulders noticably sagged.

"...okay." he stumbled out from behind the machine to join Red on the stairs.

As they headed up the stairs Red clapped his weary counterpart on the back.

"I get that you want set this right but-" he was abruptly cut off by a series of beeps.

Turning, Red looked back towards the dimly lighted computer screens. Green text rolled across them as usual but...

A strip of lights had turned green at the top of the control panel.

Those lights were new.

For a minute they both stood there, dumbstruck.

Then both skeletons were clamoring for the controls.

"ya gotta be shittin' me-" Red felt Sans push by him but didn't even bother to growl about it.

Could it really be...

" is it...it's working." Sans murmured, expression still tired but spellbound.

Now Red let out a growl.

"Check that again, are you sure?" He was snapping at Sans but he didn't really care.

After two years of being nowhere close to fixing the damn thing, he couldn't get his hopes up at the first sign of change.

He waited as Sans eyelights scrolled over the lines of data popping up on the screens.

"...yeah...yeah it is." Sans stepped back a pointed to a line midway down.

those coordinates? that's your universe...the systems finally locked onto it.

Red stared at the screen for a long time. His jaw slack, and teeth slightly parted.

They could finally go home.

"heh, well stars be damned."

#fictober22 #underfell sans #undertale sans #undertale au #fixing the machine #late to the party #will write for the prompts when i can though #echoes transcribed

[ao3feed-undertale1]

Frisk the GOAT

read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/53282848 by Confused_Squirrel It's been three years since you fell into the underground and found a family among the monsters of the Ruins. You love your life here with Mom, your ghost buddy Blooky, your prickly friend Flowey, and the host of Ruins monsters who have accepted you as their own, but things can't stay this way forever. Your friends deserve to see the sun, and there's a prophecy to be fulfilled and a barrier to be broken. Your determination pulls you onward. The only trouble is that you'll have to make it through an underground full of monsters clamoring after the red SOUL in your chest, and each day as circumstances become more dire they lose a little more hope. This is a more desperate underground than the one you landed in. The odds don't look good for one pacifist child with a stick. Of course, you aren't completely outmatched. You've spent the last three years training for this moment, and you don't intend to let anyone hit you. Words: 2147, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Undertale (Video Game) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen Characters: Frisk (Undertale), Napstablook (Undertale), Flowey (Undertale), Toriel (Undertale), Sans (Undertale), Papyrus (Undertale), Monster Kid (Undertale), Undyne (Undertale), Mettaton (Undertale), Alphys (Undertale), Asgore Dreemurr, Asriel Dreemurr, And Everyone Else Too Additional Tags: Undertale Pacifist Route, Light-Hearted, Fluff and Humor, puns, lots of puns, I'm serious--so many puns, Undertale but Frisk has pro gamer strats, POV Second Person, If you don't enjoy it I'll give you a full refund read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/53282848

#ao3feed #ao3undertalefeed #fanfic #undertale #undertale-fanfic

[notsohumerusnow]

◀️◀️

send “◀️◀️” to get a glimpse at a memory from my muse’s past.

Red stepped into the house with a flurry of snow and closed the door behind him, taking care to barricade it with that heavy wooden table once again. With that task done, he heaved a long sigh and raked his hand over his cracked features in exasperation. Peering down at his shaking hand, he frowned at the ashes smeared across the rugged bone.

"SANS?" A mousy voice would have made the lumbering skeleton jump out of his skin if he had any, whipping his skull around to stare up at the young skeleton standing at the top of the stairs, his small body silhouetted by the light coming from an open doorway, features only vaguely visible in the contrast. "WHAT'S THAT STUFF ALL OVER YOU?"

"Uh," Red stammered, desperately groping around in his thoughts for an excuse before he managed a jagged grin, "Jus' soot, Bro. Diggin' through an ol' fire pit..." He took pause, swallowing thickly beneath the others gaze before he feverishly began fishing through his pockets, managing to pull out a small but battered box. "Ya won't guess what I gotcha' though!"

"IS IT FOOD?" There was anticipation in that high voice, weak and shrill as the small skeleton hovered anxiously at the edge of the top stair.

"Ya know it is, bro!" Jus' for you!" A fingergun was shot up at him as he began for the stairs, his boots thunking loudly across the floor as he ascended the stairs. "What kinda' brother would I be if I make sure the coolest guy ever got his dinner?" He was ushering his sibling towards the open door, back into his room as he followed.

"IS IT SPAGHETTI?!" Papyrus was hopping around eagerly now, finally clamoring over to sit on the edge of his racecar bed as Red drew nearer, carefully placing the box into his awaiting hands. "YOU KNOW I LOVE SPAGHETTI!"

"Sadly not, bro, they were fresh out... but I got'cha some fries from Grillby's." He hadn't even finished his sentence before the child was ravenously pulling the box open and shoving french fries into his awaiting mouth. When he took pause to offer the large skeleton one, Red declined with a dismissive wave of his hand, "Nah, bro. All for ya. 'm not hungry." he lied. Lying had become less of a challenge as time came on, even as he tried to ignore the desperate hunger that was gnawing at the back of this thoughts. He could wait if it meant his sibling could eat.

#ask #answer #rp meme answer #rp meme ask #Red used to be a good big brother #Papyrus was much smaller than he was #We don't talk about where the ashes came from

[letsgofoletsgo]

for your cheering- up pleasure :3c

Benita: Man, sorry to hear you failed that test Sar :(

Undyne: We should kill those damn people!! D:<<<<<

Alphys: n-now Undyne, let's not be so-

Undyne: hah, I kid babe. you take everything so seriously ;D

Undyne: But seriously, it really does suck that you failed- I mean- not that *you* failed, o' course. Ya tried your best, right? I think that's all anyone could ask for, yeah?

Sans: must've been *wheely* hard. heheheh.

Papyrus: Oh, for love's sake, Brother!!

Sardonyx: Heh, thanks guys. You all really know how to cheer me up!

Benita: Group hug!!!! :D:D

*they all hug!!!!!* ^u^

Toriel: are you guys all ready for dinner at Grillby's tonight?

They all excitedly clamor. And so, the gang make their way to Grillby's. Soon, Sardonyx has xyr sorrows washed away with food, friends, and laughs.

-that2000sgirl

aka your sis ^^

Awww, this is really sweet. Thank you sis

#asks #answered asks

[satellite-starss]

Space boyyyyy

Designing outfits is so fun :D

Original design by @thepapyruscondasore

#SatellitesArt✨ #my refs #undertale #undertale au #clamor papyrus #his outfit is annoying to draw- i’m probably gonna draw him in casual clothes a lot xD

[amlizii]

Sunset Constitution-Characters Part2

(Not formal&Brief Translation)

Bramble: Members of Sundown Mafia.

His seriousness and superior talent in melee combat makes him being trusted by Dream.

Actually he is an orphan who was adopted by Blue.His crown contains Papyrus’s soul.

Ink（22）: The youngest cadre and Dream’s most effective assistant .

Becomes very violent and dangerous when he losts its paint, in this condition, he may even hurt his teammates.

Loves to draw fandoms.(It’s a secret)

Remains busy.

Cross（22）:Member of the Moderate.Used to be an assassin in Sundown Mafia who works for Nightmare.Chara’s partner.(Chara was killed by a sniper and now they share one body.He is a member of the radicals, always clamoring for return to the mafia.Poor cross.:P)

Good at observation.Hearty and Loyal.

Ink’s childhood friend.

#dreamswap #undertale au #sunset constitution

[rainingskeletons]

‘Be wary of traveling through Waterfall without a clear goal in mind... Many monsters have drifted from distraction and lost days in the blink of an eye. Stay on the path, do not loose your way, for the marshes are filled with things clamoring to be found.’

Lookie, a little visual exploration for environments :o

Papyrus takes the lead in guiding Frisk through Waterfall...despite it actually being his first time as well. :>

#undertale #undertale papyrus #undertale frisk #undertale art #slumbertale #Slumbertale sketches #undertale au #undertale au comic #slumberpapyrus #papyrus #frisk #slumberfrisk #slumbertale pacifist route

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Welcome to Backwater ch.11 (spicyhoney)

Summary:  Stretch finally has Edge's address, but as always seems to happen in this town, answering one question only makes two more spring up to take its place.

Read ‘Unconventional Wisdom’ on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

The dog spent all morning napping behind the counter, not rising for broom bristles nudging him nor Stretch stepping over him awkwardly so he could grab a few boxes from the top shelf to fill up the front racks. He did snore loud enough to be heard over the radio, but eh, so did Red so Stretch was used to it.

It wasn’t until the jangling cowbell over the door heralded the arrival of a group of kids that the pup gave up on his snoring and wandering out to inspect the new arrivals, tail already happily wagging. Predictably, the kiddos were enamored of their newest employee, although guard dog might be overstating things a bit. Okay, maybe a lot; it looked like Red hadn’t been able to get back to sleep last night because the once-filthy dog with a mess of tangled fur was now freshly washed and brushed, and he smelled a lot like the shower gel from Red’s bathroom. Cleaned up, he was a handsome dog, looking as fluffy as an enormous toasted marshmallow. Not exactly threatening, fluffykins here was probably gonna spend most of his shift on moral support duty.

The little girl who was currently the main recipient of the dog’s enthusiastic face licking giggled and asked, “What’s his name?”

“uh.” That gave Stretch a pause. He shrugged. “doesn’t have a name yet, i’ll have to ask red what he thinks.”

“Should name him Rover,” one boy put in helpfully.

Another boy chimed in, “Or Bingo!”

“Cheeseburger!” A little gal firmly declared as though no other name would do and Stretch couldn’t help laughing.

“is that a name suggestion or a lunch request?” he teased. All the kids giggled, including the one who’d suggested the name and Stretch gave one of her pigtails a gentle tug. “tell you what, here.” He pulled out a pad of paper from under the counter, flipped past the pages filled with inventory lists and cribbage scores to a blank one and wrote carefully at the top, ‘Name Our Dog’. He set it in one corner of the counter triumphantly, “there! now anyone can suggest a name and red can choose the best one.”

All the kids seemed in agreement that this was the best course of action, each taking a turn to scribble their suggestion on the sheet. He wouldn’t be at all surprised if ‘Cheeseburger’ was at the top of Red’s picks.

The kids eventually abandoned the dog and started a round of intense negotiations over what penny treats to buy today. Stretch left them to it, settling to sit on the stool to wait for them to bring up their selections to the register. His mind wandered idly back to newest side quest: getting to 637 Wood’s End Drive.

He’d already tried to look the address up on his phone’s GPS and wasn’t too surprised to see that it didn’t come up, naw, that would be too easy. So, first was figuring out how to get there and second would be figuring out how to get there. Not like he had a car and somehow, he doubted that Backwater had a thriving Uber economy. Maybe he could hitch a lift with someone? People were always coming into town in those big ol’ pickup trucks and the folks around here were pretty friendly, plus Edge seemed to be pretty well known. They all probably knew exactly where Edge lived and stopped by for pie and tea all the time. Surely someone would be delighted to help out, particularly if they were one of the lookie-loos from Mama’s who wanted to see Stretch and Edge on another man date, thank-you-but-no-thank-you.

That would probably be the easiest way to go about it, but Stretch found he was strangely reluctant to take that route. It felt a little like cheating, considering the roundabout way Edge went about handed out his address.

Anyway, if he’d wanted to go down that path, he could’ve simply asked Red days ago, but that right there was an entirely different can of worms that he didn’t want to share with any of the early birds. Red never forbade him from hanging out with Edge, but he’d been pretty clear time and again that he wasn’t too keen on it, either. Might be best if he kept any mentions of Edge to a minimum unless Red brought him up first.

He’d just figure it out himself, thanks, and he wasn’t any puzzle master, not like his bro was, but he had a little pride buried around here somewhere. Edge set him a challenge, damn it, and he was gonna see it through.

His absent gaze strayed down to the pile of bicycles outside the store, kid-sized, sure, but hey, wait a second—

“hey, guys,” Stretch said slowly, and the debate on whether to get two packs of everlasting gobstoppers or three paused as a half-dozen heads perked up like prairie dogs from a sugary plain. “if i wanted to buy a bicycle around here, where would i go?”

Heads ducked down again in a hastily whispered conversation, then the spokeskid popped up again and said, decisively, “Try over at the thrift shop. Miss Maggie always has old bikes for sale.”

“thanks.” He should’ve known. The only other option right in town was the tractor supply shop and while driving up on a John Deere would make a hell of an impression, it was probably well out of his price range. The kids crowded over with their handfuls of spoils and Stretch dutifully rang them up and if he tossed in a dime of his own to cover them, eh, wasn’t like they’d ever know. He handed over a paper sack of treats to a chorus of thank yous and the divvying began before the kiddos even got out of the shop.

“Oh, Edgar Allen said to tell you hi!” One little girl called back to him. She was gone out of the door before he could even think of a reply, all of them clamoring onto their bikes, their faces chipmunk-cheeked with their spoils.

Edgar Allen, shit, yeah, that was right. He’d pretty much been the first stop on this questline and Stretch’d been meaning to do something for him. He’d already rethought the magazine idea; what if it turned out that scarecrows couldn’t read, kinda insensitive there. He’d have to think of something, though, owing someone didn’t sit well with him even if that person didn’t qualify for traditionally alive.

In the meantime, the dog, bereft of childish companionship, wandered back behind the counter and flopped down with a huff, sighing deeply.

“yeah, go on and take a break,” Stretch told him, “you were working pretty hard there.” He stretched out a leg to pet the dog carefully with his foot and wasn’t too surprised that it didn’t care one bit about his shoe, only pliantly rolled over to give him better access to the belly region.

Stretch obediently kept petting, hell, he obeyed better than the dog. But his thoughts were still on the upcoming journey to 637 Wood’s End Drive.

~~*~~

Red relieved him in the shop a little later than normal, looking a lot like he’d just hauled ass out of bed. His shirt was the same one as earlier, only with a fresh crop of wrinkles and his eye lights were still bleary with exhaustion.

Almost, Stretch offered to stay later and let Red get a little more sleep, considering it was his fault Red got woken up in the middle of night. But the baleful glare Red sent his way was an unspoken warning that such an offer probably wasn’t gonna go over well. He kept his jaw shut tight and took the paper sandwich bag Red handed over before heading out the door. Time to get this side quest rolling, literally, he hoped.

The few times he’d met Magdalen May he’d figured right from the get-go that she, like Red, was a partaker of the Sheriff’s son’s prize cannabis crop. Not only because of her dreamy demeanor but also whenever she came into the store, she was surrounded by an almost visible cloud of pot stank so strong that Stretch got a contact buzz while she was shopping through the meagre selection of yarn that Red kept. By the time she left, Stretch would have a craving for Cheetos so strong he’d be ready to start gnawing on his fingerbones for a cronch.

Stepping into the thrift shop was a little like hot boxing in a hoarder’s closet but Stretch soldiered on, squinting as his vision adjusted from the bright light of day to a dimness barely above attic-levels. He went past shelves of gewgaws and boxes of dusty records, old clothes hanging from racks that looked like they’d been commandeered from a lot of remaindered furniture. There were tables piled high with ancient radios, cameras, electronics that Stretch didn’t know the name of and surely didn’t work, existing only to be parted out by an amateur scientist or an electrician in search of cheap parts. Antique glass was set high on the shelves, catching dusty light and sending a kaleidoscope of color to scatter over the room, freckling it in greens, reds, and yellows.

The entire store radiated a glorious sort of chaos and if it weren’t for the fact that he already felt a little woozy, he would’ve stayed for a while and poked through some of the wares. Maybe even find a new book for Red buried in the nearby piles, see if he’d be willing branch out into cowboy romance for a change.

He heading to the back of the shop where Miss Maggie was sitting in a rocking chair surrounded by boxes and shelves, knitting with flashing speed despite the foggy miasma hanging in the air. Her long white hair was smoothly braided and pinned up on top of her head, her weathered skin tanned dark and leathery. The weave of bright yellow yarn trailing from her needles was spread across her lap in an incongruous contrast to her dark, billowing skirt and the light sweater she wore against the chill of the air conditioning.

“Hello, Papyrus,” she greeted him with the sort of rough, croaky voice made over the years by a thousand packs of Marlboros. She didn’t look up, her attention completely focused on her knit and purl.

That gave him one hell of a pause. “how did you—” Stretch stopped. Great, he was in the soothsayer chapter and hadn’t even had time to prep. Yeah, okay, he didn’t really have any room in his life for another side quest, maybe let this one go. He didn’t actually want to know where she got her intel, not really, especially not with his head already spinning a little. He stuck his hands in his pockets to hide the way they wanted to curl into fists, rocking back and forth on his heels. “heya. i haven’t gone by papyrus in years, it’s stretch, thanks.”

“A wise choice,” Miss Maggie said. She sounded…different, somehow. He’d talked to her a few times now and strangely, today he couldn’t seem to place her accent. It wasn’t like the other townsfolk, all of them had a certain warm, down-homey charm, and usually so did she. Her words today were crisp, sharp-edged, nothing like the dreamy peace he was familiar with when she came into the store for coffee creamer and vanilla wafers. She glanced up at him over the wire rims of her glasses, her gaze as sharp as her tongue. “Names have power. A wise man keeps his true name to himself.”

“um. sure,” Stretch couldn’t stop himself from giving the door a longing glance. This was starting to seem like a bad idea, Miss Maggie seemed to be having a personality crisis, maybe he should come back after lunch. “that’s some very handy wisdom, but i’m here about a bike?”

She ignored that. “You have issues with names,” Miss Maggie told him. She kept knitting, needles flashing furiously in a rhythmic clickity-clack as steady as a metronome. “don’t you.”

“huh?” Stretch didn’t exactly have any flesh to get goosebumps with, but he felt a chill nonetheless, prickling maddeningly over his bones. His head was whirling, everything around him seemed to blur except the old woman in front of him. His tongue felt strangely thick as he whispered a question he didn’t want to ask, “i don’t…what do you mean?”

“Mmm, yes,” Miss Maggie sighed out, “so many names you’ve had and rejected. Had and left behind when you ran away, far, far away.”

“stop,” Stretch said weakly. His soul was starting to pulse with aching intensity behind his breastbone. The room filled with an electric heaviness like a coming storm, the rich green smell filling the room suddenly nauseating. “please, don’t.”

“Brother, lover, yes, but never father, not even once.”

“shut up,” Stretch said thickly. Or tried to, the words seemed to clot and stick at the back of his throat, refusing to travel over his useless tongue.

“And now you’re taking on new names,” she raised her head, and here in the dim, her eyes seemed like dark pools of pure blackness that reflected nothing of the flickering overhead lights. Her grin seemed unpleasant and wide, showing pale pink gums in an endless maw. “Is it friend you seek or something else, I wonder?”

As she turned towards him, her sleeve caught on the sugar bowl set on the table next to her, sending it tumbling to the floor. The burst of sound as it shattered pushed through his dazed distance like the snap of dry twig broken over a knee. Stretch jerked, blinking hard, and all the nebulous emotion in him surged forward, gathering and coalescing into real anger. He was starting to get sick of this shit, if everyone in town wanted to act like this place was Sleepy Hollow’s second-cousin, that was fine by him. He was happy to play along, but not if they were gonna keep sticking their shovels into his past to see what other skeletons they could dig up.

“look, fuck you,” Stretch snapped out. He turned back to the door, tossing over his shoulder. “never mind, i’ll figure out something else!”

“Wait!” And he didn’t want to wait, he wanted to push on through the door, but his stubborn feet suddenly refused to move. Miss Maggie clumsily thrust aside her knitting, hardly noticing her teacup wobbling, spilling tea and leaves out into her saucer in a wild splash. That funky weird woman vibe abruptly eased and so did some of the stench in the air, flavored instead with lavender tea. She waddled over to him, her long skirt dragging on the floor. Even bent over with age, she was impressively tall, hardly shorter than Stretch was, and he was a mini-skyscraper to most Humans. She looked up at him, her eyes a watery, pale blue, surrounded by a sea of wrinkles, how could he ever have imagined they were anything else?

Miss Maggie reached up to touch his cheekbone with fingers nearly as thin as his own.

“Oh, sweet child,” she said with mournful gentleness, and her voice was the smoky-sweet, grandmotherly one he recalled. “S’all right. Ain’t nothing wrong with setting aside a name you’ve outgrown, nor in taking on a new one.”

All his bright, burning anger collapsed inwardly, a card house with the center support removed, and hurt welled in him instead. He was crying, he realized distantly, tears stinging in his sockets, running down his cheekbones to gather on wetly his chin. He didn’t realize he was going to speak until he did, choking out, “it feels wrong.”

“How you feel and how things are don’t always match,” she agreed. She held out her arms, her gnarled hands open to him and Stretch leaned into them, burying his face in the soft, knitted shawl draped over her shoulder. She smelled like weed and lavender, a strange, exotic mixture. “i’ll get you all wet,” Stretch mumbled, muffled into the cloth.

She petted his skull gently, “It’s all right, child. I’ll dry.”

He held on tightly for a long time and when she finally drew back, she lightly touched his forehead with the tips of two dry fingers.

“You can get to his home through the forest,” she said, and it seemed to Stretch he could almost see it, clear as a picture someplace behind his sight. “Follow the exchange down about a mile, you’ll see a turnoff on the left. Don’t you stray from the path, you hear me, sonny?” Those pale, rheumy eyes searched his face for understanding. “Easy to get lost out there.”

“i won’t.”

“Good.” She let him go and shuffled back to her chair to picked up her knitting again. “Now, you mentioned something about a bike.”

For a moment, Stretch stood there, practically wobbling on his feet. He felt like he’d woken up from an unexpected nap, still floating in between the sleeping and waking worlds. Then he blinked, snapping awake, and looked around almost wildly. Until his gaze snagging on one of the shelves, or more specifically, something sitting on it, and held.

“a bike, i did.” Stretch walked over to the shelf where a bandana was sitting, a bright turkey-red plaid, and picked it up, holding it out for Miss Maggie to see. “how much for this, too?”

By the time he left the shop, he was in a fine mood despite his savings being a little lighter. He was pushing a rattly old bike with a squeaky chain and a horn that let loose with a hoarse ‘awhooga’ when the dusty rubber bulb was squeezed. The bandana was stuffed into his short’s pocket and the first thing he was gonna do was deal with that, then he’d worry about some maintenance. Probably better to find out if his new bike was streetworthy before taking his act on the road.

He used the walk back to the store to draw in a few deep, refreshing breaths of the heat-smoggy air, letting it clear his head.

“miss maggie sure smokes some strong shit,” Stretch muttered to himself. He left the bike leaning against the porch around back and headed over to the main road, taking his normal walking route down towards the corn. There were no kids on the makeshift baseball diamond today, looked like they’d headed off somewhere else to enjoy their penny candy.

The grass was yellowed and dying under his sneakers as he went off the beaten path, heading towards the rustling corn. Was it his imagination, or did those whispers get louder as he approached, even eager? The corn got lonely sometimes, Edgar Allen had said, but it didn’t mean any harm.

Somehow, he didn’t think the skeleton they’d found in the fields back in Doris’s day would agree.

“um, hi?” Stretch tried. There was no one around to see him and he still felt ridiculous, talking to the damn corn. “look, i dunno if you can understand me, but if you do, could you see that edgar allen gets this? i wanted to thank him for helping me out and i thought it’d look good on him.”

Carefully, he laid the bandana over a crux of green leaves and stalk, tugging to make sure it wouldn’t simply blow away. He left it there and turned back to town, hoping that the scarecrow got the message; as much as he wanted to thank the guy, he really didn’t feel like taking a second go in the corn maze to do it. He didn’t look back until he got back to the side of the road and there he paused, frowning. The splash of red should’ve been vivid against the sea of green but there was nothing, not so much as a glimpse.

He craned his neck, searching, but it hadn’t fallen to the ground and the wind wasn’t strong enough to carry it off. Maybe the corn had gotten the message after all? Yeah, he was going with that, and he headed back to take a look at his new bike, hands in his pockets and whistling cheerfully, which was a heck of a trick for someone without lips.

Yeah, he felt pretty good today and why not? He had a place to stay, a job, someone looking after him, and a dog. And now he had a bike. Things were looking up, Stretch decided.

Things were looking up.

~~*~~

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #welcome to backwater

[alottanothing]

Left to Ruin: Chapter Sixteen

Summary: The pharaoh Ahkmenrah takes his new queen with ample celebration. Nouke learns of the struggles laid out in her new path.  

Previous Chapters

Word Count: 9684

Warnings: 5K PLUS WORDS OF WEDDING NIGHT SMUT. You younglings stay away, (18+ only)!! Why am I so thirsty? Seriously this chapter is the longest one in the whole story because I’m a thirsty hoe.

Tag List:  @xmxisxforxmaybe​, @r-ahh-mi​, @theultraviolencefan​, @hah0106​, @rami-malek-trash​, @diasimar​, @sherlollydramoine​, @flipper-kisses​, @ivy-miranda-2390​, @txmel​, @sunkissedmikky​, @concentratedsassandcandy​, @babyalienfairy​, @edteche2​ (Let me know if I missed you, or if you would like to be added to the tag list)

A/N:  I-uh-sorta went feral with this one. I got my feet wet writing smut a few chapters ago and with this one I straight up jumped into the deep end. Hopefully you all enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. As always, thank you so much for your comments and reactions! I adore you all! Once 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

When Nouke stepped out into the hall with Setshepsut at her side, dripping from head to toe in finery, she did so with a new wave of confidence, using every perfect step as a moment to reflect. Her childhood was spent roaming the very halls in which she strode, wearing shoddy garb, ignored, and expected to serve men and women greater than herself. She’d come so far from the life of servitude she was born into. Now, Nouke walked freely, poised on a higher tier than a princess. Her rags were replaced with riches: adorned in fine linen and gold—she was someone no one could ignore.

Servants and nobles alike bowed to her as they passed, the crown on her head a sign of the status she would soon carry—its weight a reminder as well. Every piece of her history and the shimmering future laid before her was difficult to wrap her head around, but it thrilled her nonetheless.

Before another surge of hesitance could claw into the pit of her stomach, Nouke cast a studying glance to Setshepsut, watching the elegant way she carried herself. Her inherent grace was much like her brothers, especially when he turned on his pharaoh act. Every line in her body was straight but not rigid. Her posture was precise but comfortable; with her shoulders squared and her chin held just high enough to resonate a calm authority, she was regal without seeming arrogant.

Every step was weightless and fluid like a leaf on a breeze; Nouke walked as though she had rocks tethered to her feet. It took effort to stifle her frown, suddenly overcome with the desire to replicate the casual sophistication.

The chance she could master a paralleled radiance before they reached the council chamber was nil. Too straight of a posture would come across as stringent, and if she angled her chin even a fraction too high, she would surely come off as snobbish: two factors Nouke was keen to avoid.

With some luck and a large amount of diligence, Nouke knew she would be able to find that middle ground on par with the likes of Setshepsut and the rest of her family. Until then, Nouke made a vow to herself to stay calm and mimic Set’s gentle smile, hoping she did not look as foolish as she felt. 

When they reached the set of double doors, Setshepsut took the liberty of opening them herself. The council room was longer than it was wide and decorated with statues of the most important gods. Shelving ran along the wall to her right, housing scrolls of papyrus and other idols. At the rooms center was a long wooden table, which was already filled with a sea of unfamiliar faces.

A sense of panic consumed Nouke when each of the foreign faces turned to appraise her with varying expressions she had trouble reading. To a degree, she expected to be met with a cold welcome. To them, she was a filthy servant—a witch—who seduced their noble pharaoh into giving her a seat in the monarchy. Most of them probably wouldn’t believe her if she confessed to not wanting the crown; she just wanted Ahk.

In spite of the scrutiny, Nouke held her resolve, unwilling to let them upset her. Ahkmenrah chose her to be his queen. She had nothing to prove to them except, possibly, how much love she possessed for the pharaoh: that she would most willingly prove for the rest of her life.

Uninterested in catering to so many probing expressions, Nouke scanned the faces until she found Shepseheret at the furthest end, happily seated next to Maketaten. A grin broke through her protective mask of indifference as she found her mother dressed in finery befitting a noble. She looked so young and healthy the vision was almost enough to fill Nouke’s eyes with joyous tears, but she fought them, not wanting to ruin her makeup.

Beyond them, Merenkahre stood looking calm and pensive, harboring the same confident air Nouke needed to master.

Without a word, Setshepsut ambled prettily around the table to take the empty seat next to a handsome young soldier, leaving Nouke alone in the open space between the head of the table and the wall of shelves. The loss of her closeness triggered more panic to manifest, causing the rhythm of her heart to increase and a lump to build in her throat.

Instantly her mind and her eyes searched the room for a way to remedy the sudden wave of anxiety, wondering if she should join them at the table or wait for instruction. 

Just as she was starting to feel faint from holding her breath, everyone who was seated stood.

The abruptness startled Nouke with a gasp, and before she could follow their gaze to find an answer, Ahkmenrah twined his fingers with hers, throwing her a blinding, toothy smile. 

“Hello, my love,” he said proudly.

His presence easily allayed her unease and suddenly, Nouke felt weightless.

“Hi,” she replied with a dreamy exhale, her awe prompting his lips to curl into a grin until laughter lines crinkled at the corners of his eyes.

“If we now may proceed, my king?” Merenkahre cleared his throat to gain their attention.

There was the slightest hint of an adoring smile playing on the former pharaoh’s lips. No more was his face a mask of dutiful indifference; there was sincerity in his tone and eyes that was a welcomed sight. Perhaps she wouldn’t have to win his approval after all.

“Yes, father,” Ahkmenrah said with a respectful nod.

Merenkahre returned the gesture and took a single step to place himself between his wife and Maketaten.

“In following tradition, marriage contracts are usually written by the fathers of the young man and young woman. However, we must offer our condolences to our soon to be queen and her mother. Ramentukah was a loyal soldier under my reign and a good man.”

The room collectively bowed their heads in a show of respect—a moment of silence that was bittersweet.

“Thusly,” Meren began again. “I thought it more appropriate, that in this circumstance, the mothers scribe this agreement.”

Merenkahre stepped back into his previous place as Shepseheret and Maketaten stood, both smiling.

“Ahkmenrah. Anuksamun. I speak for both of us when I say it warms my heart to see the both of you reunited,” Shep began.

Maketaten brandished a roll of papyrus and laid it on the table as Ahk’s mother continued, “The terms of this marriage are simple. It states that in the unlikely want of a break to this union, any children of royal blood will remain heirs to the throne of Egypt. The homestead of Maketaten, Ramentuka, and Anuksamun will remain their property. Until such a time, the farm's upkeep will be the responsibility of the crown to ensure its longevity.”

“Are these terms agreeable to you both?” Maketaten added.

It was absurd to even speak about the notion of their union breaking; Nouke would never surrender Ahkmenrah, and she knew beyond a doubt he would never surrender her.

“Yes,” they said in unison, causing them both to crack a smile.

A pridefully pleased grin spread over Shepseheret's face as she gathered the marriage document and brought it to their end of the table.

“Then, if you please. Make your marks, your majesties."

Nouke’s heart was hammering as she watched Ahkmenrah scribe his name; the rush of excitement made her feel faint again, and she gripped Ahk’s hand a little tighter to keep from falling. He passed her the quill with another blinding smile, and her hand was shaking so badly it took all of her focus to will it steady as she wrote her name next to her husband's.

And then, it was done. He was hers, and she was his—forever.

Merenkahre spoke then, his smile wide and sparkling, a hint of his son’s expression peeking through.

“Our honored guests, and respected councilmen. It is my pleasure to present to you the pharaoh Ahkmenrah and his Queen, Anuksamun!” 

***

While Nouke found the ceremony to officially mark her union to the pharaoh to be—in a word—underwhelming, the celebration that followed made up for the boring political fuss of signing a document in the confines of the council chamber. The moment she stepped into the great halls of the palace with her husband, the commotion of the festivities echoed through the stone walls in such a way it was difficult to pinpoint their true origin.

Sounds almost alien, bounced around in a muffled and obscured clamor that instilled Nouke with curiosity. The corridors were nearly vacant as they strode; everyone, it seemed, having been coaxed with intrigue to the cause of the sounds pulsing through the palace.

Step after fluid step, the din of celebratory excitement grew louder until the halls of the palace gave way to a large courtyard oasis. Nouke’s breath caught with thrill as she took in the unbelievable sight, the crowd gathered below the stairs she and Ahk stood atop.

Shouts of praise for their king and queen burst from the guests below, in a thunderous roar that triggered a wave of shock to freeze Nouke's movements. Were it not for the proud smile on Ahkmenrah’s lips, the number of eyes suddenly cast upon her would have been even more staggering. His heartened expression was enough to combat the fluttering of butterflies in her belly, and she smiled too.

His sparkling eyes met her with a silent question—to ask if she was ready to keep going—and she nodded. Confidence thrummed from him and into her where their hands were joined, lending her the posture she thought she would need to work at to master. With Ahk at her side, the air of casual dignity came to her with ease.

She felt a true queen at that moment as a hush fell over the crowd when they began descending the stairs. Every person fell in a wave to their knees, parting like a river through sand for them as they slowly tread past.

Ahkmenrah was the paragon of regal as he moved throughout the crowd, his crown gleaming in the burning of torchlight, his golden robes catching the breeze, and sweeping elegantly behind him. Like all those before her, Nouke too was in awe of his presence: so calm and utterly beautiful. And all hers.

When they reached their destination at the center of the grand courtyard—a raised platform of identical twin thrones—Nouke was unsure if her heart was pounding from the thrill, the nerves or simply by the way Ahkmenrah glowed at her side.

There was so much to focus on from their stage and Nouke’s eyes scanned over it all feeling breathless. It wasn’t until Ahk stole a quick kiss that her nerves settled. He proudly drew her into the warmth of his orbit, and out from the tepid eyes surrounding them. The glean in his eyes moved through her entire body, snaking and rooting into her core.

Ahk’s puckish grin spread wider, recognizing her look of want all too easily, and gave her one last peck before turning to address his still kneeling guests. 

“Rise, my loyal, most cherished friends.” Ahkmenrah’s voice bellowed with a robust, prideful vigor that immediately settled between Nouke’s thighs despite the mundane nature of his words.

With a small bereft sigh, Nouke bit her lip and steered her focus to the crowd hoping to allay the heat Ahk’s deep bravado stirred.

“Tonight, I am the happiest man in all Egypt. Fore on this night, I have the supreme honor to introduce to you, my wife.” Ahkmenrah’s glittering eyes turned to drink in her sight, holding her gaze as he spoke again, “Whose beauty could have only come from the gods themselves. She is my greatest love, and your new queen…”

He sounded breathless, completely in awe, and almost in tears when he continued, “I present, Anuksamun!”

Instantaneously a chorus resonated throughout the air, “My Queen!”

Everyone bowed before her, even Ahkmenrah bowed, murmuring a gentle, “My queen,” that curled tendrils of warmth through her body.

Nouke’s mouth hung agape as her eyes flitted over each bowed head, her heart bursting and pounding all at once, overcome with a hundred different emotions, but mostly she stood with disbelief and profound gratefulness.

With a deep breath, Nouke poised herself with all the grace and confidence she could derive from those turbulent feelings inside and prayed her voice would not crack under the onslaught of pressure.

“My lords, my ladies, my new friends. I am humbled by your praise. It is my honor to share this night with each of you.” She paused to take in another slow breath, letting her sight catch Ahkmenrah to gauge how her first official address was faring.

His eyes were wide with admiration; his lips parted and quirked into a three-point smile. The look of reverence instilled a fresh wave of courage, and Nouke continued.

“Thank you all for making the journey to celebrate with us—”

“Let the festivities commence!” Ahkmenrah declared, ceremoniously flailing his arms to the heavens with a toothy smile that put the moons silvery light to shame.

All at once, the large garden erupted with life as every manner of entertainment broke out. Music and laughter sprung up on every side, filling the air with an ample joy that mirrored the sensation buzzing in Nouke’s chest.

With the spotlight no longer on her, a grin unfurled on her face, both proud and glad their guests were suddenly too caught up in the merrymaking to pay her and the pharaoh much attention.

“That was terrifying,” she half-joked with a shaky giggle.

In a fluid movement, Ahk’s arms were around her waist, guiding her against him until nothing remained to part them.

“You, my love, are a natural,” he purred with a smirk before claiming her mouth with his.

The delicate sweep of his tongue over her lip, begging for entrance, cajoled a pleased hum from Nouke’s throat. She was only too willing to open for him--starving for his intimacy after days without it.

His kiss was all greedy tongue and skillful lips, dancing desperately against one another, tasting and worshiping, until it stole the air from their lungs, leaving them panting with desire. Warmth coiled for each of them, low in their abdomen, spurring more quiet and indecent laments to pass—muffled—between them.

It took all of Nouke’s diminishing will power not to ravish her pharaoh then and there for everyone to see. His lips curled into a devious smirk, and his eyes trailed down the deep V of her neckline with a hunger no feast could fill, gnawing his bottom lip to curb his own appetite.

She shivered, thinking he was going to indulge her lewd fantasy and christen her his queen there before all of his subjects. However, the cloud of lust dissipated as quickly as it had formed when Ahkmenrah’s family swarmed them with praise and introductions.

Nouke had only met Ahk’s older sisters once or twice in her youth. Most were married off to important husbands before she and Ahkmenrah were old enough to speak, but she did remember that they were all beautiful, kind people.

While she stumbled through each introduction, confusing names of sisters, husbands, nieces, and nephews, each welcomed her with open arms. As they caught up with their younger brother, Nouke stood at Ahk’s side, her heart swelling every time she found a piece of her husband in one of their expressions. Ahk, Set, and their oldest sister had a tendency to bite their lip before they smiled. His laugh was a perfect echo of his second oldest sister and all of them had strong jaws and expressive eyes. There was an entire repertoire of matching idiosyncrasies that made Ahkmenrah and his sister’s harmonious, and Nouke was never more delighted to be among a group of strangers.

***

Nouke was unsure how far into the night the celebration had lasted when she found herself longing for it to be over. The food and drinks continued to flow endlessly; the guests continued to dance and thrive in the convivial atmosphere without constraint. She alone seemed to beg for an end.

Sleep was far from her mind, yet the thrill of the festivities concluded when Shepseheret and Setshepsut pulled her away from Ahkmenrah, tasked with the obligation of introducing her to all the important ladies of Egypt in attendance.

The burden of duty, she thought, easily recalling each time Ahk had spoken of duty and frowned. At last, she understood. And just like her dutiful husband, Nouke wore a kind face and as regal a posture as she could manage, while her mother-in-law and sister-in-law paraded her from noble to noble.

Each woman greeted her with a respectful bow, yet not all their praise felt genuine, which made for a keenly distressing jumble of introductions and conversations. From awe to abhorrence, their lofty masks split to reveal the truth of how they saw her. Some commended her for coming from nothing, while others made it clear with only their icy tone, that the notion of a commoner queen repulsed them.

“Don’t let them get to you,” Set said in a timely fashion, just as Nouke’s anxiety was beginning to root in her bones again. The negativity and false faces were too much too quickly.

“Some of them are jealous, and some of them are upset my brother chose you over their daughters.” There was a smug quirk to Setshepsut’s lips that was enough to allay a sliver of Nouke’s malaise finding it to be a twin of Ahk’s smug simper.

Still, Nouke’s brows had difficulty not knitting together with inquiry.

“Did Ahkmen not tell you?” Set asked, her brows pulling together in a similar expression.

“Tell me what?”

Setshepsut’s features softened into a genuine, wholehearted smile, and she looked to her mother.

“When the council encouraged him to seek out a second wife, my husband sent for suitors,” Ahk’s mother explained, joining the conversation as they stood amid the sea of guests.

It should not have come as a surprise the handsome, young pharaoh would have a line of women waiting to wed him, and even though she’d married him hours prior, Nouke struggled to keep jealousy from twisting a frown onto her lips.

“Ahkmen denied them all,” Setshepsut assured her, once again swift enough to combat the nagging sensation the thought of suitors conjured. “He was already so in love with you; I'm not even sure he truly looked at any of them.”

Nouke’s smile grew firmer, “When did this all—”

“A few weeks before you showed up,” Set said happily. “It is as though the gods knew you needed one another.”

Nouke beamed, and while her words struggled to compile themselves to form a response, she knew Set was wise enough to understand that the feeling was the same.

“The gods always know what we need before we do,” Shep said in a scholarly tone, full of wisdom and warmth. “Which is why the gods blessed me with three daughters before a son. His kindness comes from all his sisters, and kindness can be just as powerful as any weapon a king could hold.”

The former queen’s sentiment was not lost on Nouke; Shepseheret's knowing expression provided enough context. Her son would always rule Egypt with a level head and no cruelty, unlike his brother.

A quiet moment passed as they idly scanned the crowd around them until Shepseheret’s elegant posture relaxed.

“I do believe we’ve met everyone.” She exhaled, releasing more of her queenly persona, looking every bit as exhausted from the charade as Nouke felt.

“I know those were a lot of names and faces, but it will spare you in the future,” Shepseheret explained, offering an apologetic smile. “It should keep them from showing up unannounced to introduce themselves.”

Nouke frowned, “They do that?”

Ahk’s sister nodded, frowning herself, looking more irritated than sad.

“Mmhm, any excuse to possibly gain more favor with the pharaoh.” Set threw a narrow-eyed glance around them. “Everyone here is not-so-secretly vying for the next-best position of power.”

Nouke’s frown pressed deeper into her features as she glanced at the party-goers through a new lens of understanding. It made so much sense suddenly—the grandeur of every detail—the frock and the praise and the forced well wishes. 

Every soul in the garden was there only for the prospect of selfish gain, be it for a seat at the pharaoh’s council or merely to nurse from the royal teat. They attended only to take whatever they could: meals and drink and entertainment when no guest in attendance ever knew a day of famine.

They owned no golden crown to mark them supreme over all, but they were mayors and governors—lords and ladies—who knew only lavishment and plentiful meals. None of them put in a day’s labor under the sun out of fear of going hungry. And still, they took what was provided freely with heedless greed.

The worst thought was that the pharaoh could do nothing but play along to ensure no offended party sought to overthrow him.

Queen for less than an evening and already the weight of it all seemed crushing.

“I’m going to find Ahk,” Nouke announced, suddenly in need of his warmth after hours of only cold faces.

“Thank you,” she added with a genuine smile, grateful to have them both to ease her into her new life.

A sickly air of melancholy swept over Egypt's new queen as she wandered the party alone, her inner thoughts a tangled web that drastically contrasted the joviality enduring around her. Nouke felt her usual spirit unexpectedly laden: overwhelmed and acutely out of place among a legion of highborn faces. Their mocking expressions could not be overshadowed by the few wholesome gazes that met her as she walked making her spirit heavier.

Every non-distracted face and sober mind bid her a bow as she maneuvered passed, each act making her wonder whether they saw a queen or a servant strolling by.

The envy was easiest to catch on the young faces of potential queens; each one of them beauties Ahkmenrah passed up to tie himself eternally to her. Nouke did garner a hint of pride at that particular thought, manifesting with a well-hidden smirk.

Nevertheless, by the time her feet carried her across the spacious garden to its center where the twin thrones sat, Nouke felt thin—like the threadbare garments, riddled with holes, she wore on her farm. She lingered a moment in the open area between the masses of guests and her throne, letting her focus slip into the distance with a deep inhale, and a slow exhale. Only after several slow, calculated breaths did her spirit find its center once more, bringing a much-needed wave of calm.

The abrupt sound of children laughing quickly stole Nouke’s focus, and the sight she found was enough to devour the remaining traces of melancholy. Instantaneously her face erupted into a grin so wide it hurt to hold. All at once, the heaviness in her heart melted into a warmth that swelled to fill her entire body with adoration. 

Upon the lordly stage, where the thrones sat unoccupied, was Ahkmenrah and a slew of his tiny nieces and nephews. All of them were laughing and smiling as their uncle playfully chased them with a mischievous smirk on his lips, his fingers outstretched and threatening to tickle them. Nouke’s heart fluttered, and tears prickled her eyes as she pictured their children running and giggling as Ahkmenrah chased them; beautiful babes with ringlets, blue eyes and smiles that rivaled the sun. What a wonderful vision.

The smallest of Ahk’s nephews let out a yelp when he scooped the boy into his arms, his cry immediately followed by a barrage of shrieks and laughs as his uncle tossed him into the air. When the pharaoh caught him, Ahk kissed the boy’s cheek before releasing him. The little boy let out another mirthful cry as his tiny legs carried him into the crowd the moment his feet met the ground. Ahkmenrah’s grin was like magic, unfurling slow, with ample affection as he watched his nephew vanish into the sea of people.

Several of the other children ran after the toddler, all carrying on with convivial squeals that somehow made the pharaoh’s grin even brighter. Only one of his nieces remained, older than most of the other kids, but still small enough to warrant her yanking on her uncle's cape to get his attention. Ahk turned his radiant smile upon her, and she matched its vibrance when he scooped her up as well, neatly tumbling backward onto the wide seat of his throne.

The little girl cackled as they expertly fell, reaching with wonderment in her eyes for the golden crown on her uncle’s head. Ahk’s smile touched his eyes as he carefully removed it and placed the headpiece on her head. Immediately it slipped past her ears and nose, causing her to giggle as she pushed it back far enough on her crown to see. She stood in Ahkmenrah’s lap, throwing her arm around his neck for a quick hug before mussing his hair.

A second later, the girl hopped from his lap with an excited squeal and ran to join the other children, her uncle's crown still on her head.

Ahkmenrah chuckled a delightful sounding bellow that shook his entire body with joy as he settled back into his throne effortlessly. He took a long swig from his goblet that was precariously perched on the wide arm of his chair, relaxing.

All at once, the warmth in her chest dripped further down, becoming something much more immodest than the virtuous affection it had been only a moment ago. Never had Nouke been so compelled to sit on someone’s lap. Seeing her husband forgoing his perfect posture for a lax slouch, legs sprawled wide in front of him, with the curls on his head an unruly mess, made her tingle and ache.

He was like poetry in motion, and all hers. 

The keenly alluring sight of her husband perched so prettily on his throne, with a hint of kingly arrogance playing around his upturned lips—brought on by the drink in his hand—was like flint on steel. Sparks stoked molten heat to spill to her core; like a pot boiling over, the wave of longing begged for attention. No routine introduction or beckon of duty was going to keep her from taking advantage of such an enticing sight. The liquid desire coursing through her veins evoked a brazen want that Nouke clung to, allowing it to bleed into her movements. Her sultry gait quickly caught the pharaoh’s attention and the moment their eyes met; Ahkmenrah's playfully arrogant smirk spread into a wide, adoring, and proud smile.

“My queen,” he purred, welcoming her into his lap gladly when she lithely perched herself there, tucking her legs at either side of him.

She swept her fingers through his unruly curls, no longer able to quell the desire to do so, before her hands came to rest at the back of his neck. A gentle hum vibrated from deep in his chest at the glide of her fingers over his scalp, and his eyes fluttered shut as he savored their feel. Just the sound was enough to prickle her touch starved skin in a wave of goosebumps.

As her fingers wove and played absently with the hair at the back of his head, the queen met her king's eyes in a gaze that transcended all others; an exchange marked with wonderment, as though the meaning of life itself was transcribed in the smoldering colors of each other’s eyes.

Nouke’s heart was beating with a familiar, anticipatory fervor; every passing moment without kissing him moved painfully slow. There were hundreds of wandering eyes, but sensibility was lost when she was under the worship of Ahk's stormy gaze. He looked upon her as though she was the only living being in the universe; a mix of awe and affection that coupled sublimely with the quirk of rascally desire on his lips.

Ahkmenrah's own aura was inherently beguiling, effortlessly eating away every rational thought until Nouke found it impossible to douse the growing fire within her, wandering eyes be damned.  

Shamelessly, she took his bottom lip between hers, teasing a brush of her tongue over the sensitive skin until Ahk welcomed the kiss with a hungry sound. Nouke leaned closer, controlling the lascivious play of his lips and tongue, purring agreeably at the delicious taste of her king's mouth under her own. 

Ahkmenrah artlessly abandoned his goblet, the clank of the chalice against the stone ground barely registered when his hands came to moor at the small of her back, and the heat of his fanning fingers consumed all her senses. He drew her closer still, the slight friction against his frame utterly divine as their kiss built with a burst of fervor. It deepened and expanded, her hands holding his jaw as their joined passion became something inevitably bigger than they both could contain. Nouke’s sober mind grew drunk with lust when his heavy breath swept over her skin; Ahk’s low gasp curling around her spine. Every sensitive part of her was tingling. She wanted him. Needed him. 

When they parted to find their breath, the blue of Ahkmenrah’s eyes was narrow; a thin ring around wide pools of black, and he blinked slowly, watching her with feline intensity.

“Are you enjoying the festivities, my love?” he asked once his breathing calmed. His tone was like velvet, warm and luxurious; a bravado that actively attempted to unravel any trace of composure she had left.

Nouke’s lips quirked into a coy smirk as she considered her answer until she decided to reply with a kiss; her words tangled in the haze of her desire. Her hands surrendered their delicate press to the edge of his jaw, blunt nails raking over the skin of his neck, mapping the jeweled wesekh and down further over the lean muscles of his torso until she found the bulge under the silky fabric of his shendyt.

The pharaoh shifted and gasped a choked sound as his eyes fluttered with mild shock, lips trembling into a grin. With a purr and a mischievous simper of her own, Nouke palmed him, the sensation of his girth twitching and growing with even the slightest touch instilled Egypt's new queen with pleasurable power no crown could ever foster.

“I am now,” she whispered against his ear, and when she flicked her tongue to taste the soft lobe, Ahkmenrah groaned.

The strain to keep his kingly resolve in front of potentially gauging eyes only made Nouke want him more. His eyes fluttered shut as she pumped him slowly, watching as he gnawed his bottom lip to combat the need to express his pleasure with a wanton cry. 

Another rampant surge of power tore through her in a wave that heightened each of her senses and dripped to her own arousal. The desire to hear every sound she could coax out of her handsome pharaoh fueled every movement. She worked down his covered length, brushing her pinky over his sensitive tip, and when he moaned, Nouke muffled it with a burning kiss. An impish grin worked onto her face while she sucked and nibbled his bottom lip until her resolve folded as her mind and senses blurred with lust.

Ahkmenrah was quick to pick up the shift in her ministrations, their kiss stealing some of her confident vigor. The distraction of his lips allowed him to gather her dress just enough for his fingers to find her heated center. Without ceremony, he glided two digits through her slick folds, and he grinned.

“So wet for me,” he murmured, his thumb sweeping quick circles over her sensitive nub with enough pressure to make her gasp.

The shock of his delicious fingers was enough to make her forget the scene around them.

“Oh! Ahk!” she bit out louder than she should have. Instantly her vision flashed white and her once preoccupied hands anchored themselves to his strong shoulders.

“Shhhh,” he admonished gently, pumping his fingers slowly and just enough to send Nouke reeling.

All rational thought abandoned her, leaving her to the mercy of her own desires and her husband's gifted fingers. Suddenly, Nouke cared little about who may have taken notice of their less than proper behavior.

Wantonly, she rolled her hips into his cupped hand, its heel providing the friction she longed for. A jolt of pleasure pulsed through her, and her walls squeezed tight around Ahk’s wide fingers, causing them both to moan.

“I do so love the intimacy of large gatherings,” he mused, watching her as she skirted around the edge of unravel, so very close to coming undone already. “Everyone is entirely too caught up in everything else to notice anything. . . peculiar.”

Nouke gasped when Ahk pressed the heel of his hand against her clit with a sweeping motion that triggered a wave of euphoria so grand his name tumbled heedlessly from her mouth again. The pharaoh pressed a finger to her lips to shush her cry, throwing her a devilish grin.

“That is, of course, if you don’t make too much noise.”

Even through her half-lidded, hazy vision, Ahkmenrah’s impish smirk was easy to make out: supremely proud of his innate ability to properly sate her.

In a rapidly diminishing moment of clarity, Nouke drew his thumb into her mouth, tongue curling around the digit, sucking and hallowing her cheeks until the act won her a groan from her husband, giving her a taste of satisfaction. 

Had she been capable of more than a solitary moment of coherent thought, Nouke would have happily gone back to teasing him, but her body was greedily playing into his game; surrendering to desire with eager desperation. Nouke released his thumb when her mouth fell open with another cry of pleasure as her hips bucked against the soft heel of his hand.

The pharaoh’s free hand moved to cradle her throat, the brush of his finger so soft. His warm lips followed his touch, trailing from her jaw to her neck, as his hand fell to palm the globe of her breast. Even through the fabric of her dress, her nipples stiffened wantonly at his contact, her head falling back, body shivering. Nouke husked out a ragged sigh, a helpless cry that wanted to be more, but he shushed her again just as gently as before. Warmth curled through her body, triggered by the timbre of his soft chide, making the muscles in her abdomen so, so tight.

“Come for me,” Ahk murmured low against her ear, his teeth grazing the soft skin of her lobe.

Nouke bit out a sharp inhale when his confident fingers began working her in earnest, steering her with precision to that heavenly peak. Another moan spilled past her lips as everything inside coiled hot, and tense and hard.

“Quiet, my love,” he warned softly, and she could hear his smile.

“Come for me, my beautiful queen,” he encouraged, hooking his fingers perfectly.

That was enough.

The velvet of his voice in her ear coupled with the feel of his hand circling the aching cluster of nerves at her center swelled until it burst, surging throughout her body like lightning from the tips of her fingers to her curling toes. Every nerve was on fire with ecstasy.

The intensity secured her to his shoulders with a white-knuckled grip, afraid she would fall. Her lips parted with rolling whimpers and tiny cries she could not contain, riding out her pleasure as quietly as she could will herself to do.

“Perfect…” Ahkmenrah marveled, completely beguiled by the sight of her undoing.

When the waves of her pleasure shifted into small tremors of aftershock, Ahk withdrew his fingers, leaving Nouke suddenly bereft. She whined on account, blinking slowly until her vision came back to her.

Despite the threat of wandering eyes, Ahkmenrah pushed each slick digit into his mouth, indecently sucking and licking them clean, his expression utterly smug.

Little by little, the entirety of Nouke’s senses returned to her; the lusty haze dissipating enough for her to lay her focus on her handsome husband who was ogling her with playful arrogance.

Immediately she cursed herself for allowing Ahk to get the upper hand. He ruled every night they spent together—not that she minded; Ahkmenrah was an attentive, generous lover. However, Nouke felt it more than fair she got a chance to be smug, to send him reeling. No longer could he hold over her the guise of the powerful pharaoh who did as he pleased. She was a queen, and she was going to prove it.  

Nouke shifted in his lap, a sly gambit to test the state of his arousal. She licked her lips feeling his hard length beneath her; the peak of her tongue making Ahk’s lewd smirk grow. Nouke matched his arrogant grin, and the change in her body language sent a devious twinkle into Ahkmenrah’s lust dark eyes.

Before he could, Nouke kissed him, pushing her lips on his with prurient vigor stemming from the irresistible need to be the master of his undoing. The phantom feel of his fingers inside her encouraged her movements, her wet center grinding against his clothed cock. A low groan rumbled from deep in his chest.

“Shhh,” she admonished teasingly.

Nouke grinned when his blunt fingernails pressed into her hips in an attempt to quiet his own cries as her body continued to roll against him. She kept her hands at either side of his face to hold him where she wanted, controlling every movement of their kisses.

Ahk’s tongue was warm and velveteen like his voice, the inside of his mouth damp and hot, and when he made another low groan, it wound around her with warmth. Ravenous need began to whirl and tighten deep in her belly once more, and for a moment all traces of playfulness was scoured away leaving only breathless need.

Nouke willed herself to focus, breaking their kiss long enough for the haze to settle, carding her fingers through his dark hair as she met his eyes. They were half-lidded and sparkling—the blue-gray she loved nearly consumed by black. The more or less smug twist on his kiss swollen lips did well to lend Nouke a rational thought: a reminder not to let him win the game again so quickly.

Once more, her hips rolled against his pulsing length, coercing soft hums and groans past his lips in a beautifully soft fanfare that worked between Nouke’s thighs as she fought off a cry of her own. She tugged his bottom lip with her teeth before moving to the heavenly angle of his jaw, her tongue tasting its sharp edge from his chin to the soft skin behind his ear.

Ahk inhaled sharply, his mouth falling open as her name spilled heedlessly off his tongue in a tone too loud to be a whisper. His hips bucked in helpless abandon, arousing another strangled moan deep in his chest, and Nouke stopped.

The pharaoh’s breath hitched at the unexpected end to her ministrations, and the sudden loss of her body against his prompted a whimper. Nouke reveled at the sight of his blinking, wild eyes searching her face for an explanation while she nonchalantly took her time re-situating her gown and jewelry.

Right where I want you, she thought, stretching her legs to allow blood to flow.

Her husband was still blinking, looking profoundly bereft and confused when she threw him a coy smirk. A flash of her tongue to tease and wet her lips caused him to swallow—hard—and his mouth fell open, as though he wanted to speak.

All Ahk managed, however, was another choked whine.

Nouke held his gaze for only a moment before turning without a word, ambling into the crowd with an air of mystery she knew would see him venturing after her—once he’d calmed himself down first. 

This time, as the new queen strolled through the mass of party guests, her spirit was buzzing with a puckish charm that carried her feet across the garden in a buoyant stride leaving her oblivious to any mask of disdain thrown her way.

It wasn’t long before she found a vacant corner, free of guests and guards; a quick discovery that made Nouke smirk. Ahkmenrah was right, there was a certain level of solitude that correlated to large gatherings, and she was abundantly grateful.

The sounds of celebration faded into the distance as the fervent beat of her heart grew more prominent in her ears. Only a few minutes passed, but Nouke was impatient. Every nerve in her body was aching to finally have Ahkmenrah buried deep inside of her; ready to feel that coiling spring snap for a second time as she was lost in the feel of him.

However, neither she nor her husband would know that satisfaction until he paid for what he’d done; defiling her proudly and publicly—the perfect justification to have her way.

The moment he found her leaning against the high stone wall; Ahk's eyes devoured her. Nouke recognized the look of animalistic need on his face—she felt it in herself—and the second he stepped into her orbit, heat pulsed to her core. Hastily, she clenched her thighs in an attempt to deter her own want.

Make him yours, she reminded herself.

But Ahkmenrah’s hands and mouth were already on her. He pressed her against the wall with avid hunger and a low, sensual growl that was almost enough to steal the teasing Nouke had in mind. The pharaoh was so decadent and rich to taste—a nectar that was so sweet; it made her feel helpless each time his kiss was deep and full of passion. It took all of her will power not to drown in the luxuriousness of his tongue and mouth.

 “I do not like seeing you walk away from me like that,” he scolded, his pouty upper lip close enough to brush against hers as he spoke.

The bass note of his voice dropped sinfully low, and the lascivious fire in his eyes was difficult to look away from. His words prompted a chill to work down her spine as he pinned her harder against the wall.

Slowly, a familiar haze began to cloud her mind when his warm lips seared a line of wet kisses down her neck, sucking and nibbling until soft purple marks burnished the surface of her skin. Each one he tasted with a wide sweep of his tongue, making her hum gentle encouragement—sinking further into his ministrations.

Nouke’s nails dug into his biceps, leaving tiny red crescents, her body bucking wantonly against his—betraying her rationale. Ahk had a talent for unraveling her resolve.

With what clarity remained, Nouke pushed through the haze. Her fingers sunk deeper into the muscles of his arms, sureing her grip, and with a calculated spin she pinned him against the wall.

The sudden rush of power was like a drug in her veins, spreading wild with desire she couldn’t quell. An impish smirk drew her lips with a curl seeing the look of shock in his big, beautiful eyes, and she quickly covered him with her whole body. Her nails raked possessively down his arms as her hips rolled against his middle, relishing in his hard length pressed against her center.

When he moaned, she kissed him until the air was taken from his lungs, leaving him panting and thirsty for more. Ahk hissed and bucked under the friction of her undulating movements, and Nouke’s lips trailed down the line of his throat, suckling on his fluttering pulse.

“My queen…” he sighed raggedly with exuberant praise of encouragement.

Her mouth climbed inexorably upward, along the column of his neck to the edge of his jaw, and Ahk’s head rolled against the wall. She coaxed a groan from his lips as she suckled her own marks on his flawless skin, tasting each before mapping the rest of his enticing throat with her mouth.

While her lips explored, Nouke’s hands wandered the lean plates of his chest and torso, calloused fingertips raking over the tight muscles of his abdomen before venturing lower, untying his fanciful belt with practiced ease.

Ahkmenrah’s moan was low and loud when she gripped him through the fabric of his shendyt, the sound eliciting tendrils of warmth to pool in her center. Nouke stroked him lazily over his silky garments, her focus lost in every guttural sound she was able to cajole out of him.

Her hand stilled, prompting a whimper and she blazed a line of kisses to his ear.

“Would you like your queen to kneel before her king?” She grinned when his skin erupted in goosebumps, inspiring another wave of power to envelope her.

“Yes,” Ahk swallowed.

“Yes, what?” she murmured, sliding a single finger under the waistline of his shendyt.

“Yes, my queen,” he husked out just as her fingers dipped bellow the fabric and curled around his cock.

A string of profanities spilled from his lips and his head rolled against the wall; Nouke watched with avid thrill as he unraveled with every slow stroke she offered. She surged forward to kiss him in a hasty brush of lips before tasting her way down his body, humming pleasantly at the feel of his muscles shifting under her mouth.

Every sound and instinctual movement of his body chasing the pleasure she stimulated rushed through her own like fire. Nouke's thighs were slick with her own arousal, her core ready and begging to accommodate him.

A sort of sigh escaped Ahkmenrah’s mouth when she released his throbbing cock to kneel in front of him. She could feel his lustful gaze upon her, and she met it, tugging gently at the fabric that hid him until the garment slipped past his slim hips, all the way to his ankles.

His freed cock jutted proudly, and she licked her lips taking in the sight of his kingly grandeur—there truly wasn’t a part of him that wasn’t perfect.

When she glanced to meet his gaze, she found it half-crazed with lust, pleading for her to touch him. A mischievous smirk quirked onto her lips as she leaned to press soft kisses to each of his hip bones, causing him to whine until finally, she took mercy on him.

Gently, she curled her fingers around him, letting her thumb swirl the pearly bead of precum over his sensitive tip, feeling him shiver and hiss from the sensation. She squeezed him to reacquaint herself with his girth before stroking him once, delighted with the way he trembled against her.

He was a vision of licentious need, and Nouke was certain no queen ever felt so powerful on her knees as she did then.

Nouke kept eye contact as her tongue unfurled to taste him, licking his entire length before taking him into her mouth. A haggard string of curses tumbled off of his tongue, groaning as he pushed his hands into her hair to keep her head still against the slight thrust of his hips, fucking her mouth slowly until her tongue swirled over his tip.

Ahk’s body stilled and tensed as Nouke dipped and suckled, cheeks hallowing as her hand worked his base until with an impetus shove, he pushed her away.

“I need you,” he proclaimed urgently, pulling her to her feet and into a sloppy kiss.

“Yes,” she agreed against his mouth without protest. 

Nouke welcomed his weight when he turned to pin her to the wall, the swift gesture awakening something dark and primal in them both. Without ceremony, Ahkmenrah freed her breasts from the gown she wore, humming delightfully, his palms instantly molding to the globes like his hands were made to hold them. He kneaded and pinched until her nipples stiffened, and when he leaned to kiss the soft underside before dragging his tongue over the stiff peak, Nouke moaned loudly feeling his smile of satisfaction.

Every part of her was more sensitive to his touch than ever before, his hot breath tingled over her skin as he kissed his way up her torso to her mouth. Her fingers trembled as she gathered her dress before swinging her leg around his waist to draw his center against hers.

In a single perfect thrust, Ahk glided to fill her, completely engulfed and could go no further. They moaned in unison, the sudden pleasure almost enough to work them over the edge in one fell swoop.

His movements were slow at first, surely an attempt to draw out every moment of their pleasure, and she tightened around him at the same rhythm, watching his eyes darken and flutter until his thrusts became the paradigm of desperation. Nouke’s head rolled against the stone wall, staccato moans of absolute lechery spilling from her mouth as her husband fucked her hard.

The pharaoh buried his face in the crook of her neck, his teeth nipping the darkening spots of lavender he’d kindled previously, each bite shooting a luscious chill throughout her whole body.

Nouke gasped and keened, free to make any and every sound he coaxed out of her this time, and he did the same. Every hungry thrust teetered precariously between calculated and clumsy. One, a mindful push that aroused glorious friction, while the next was a carnal shove that yielded both pain and pleasure.

Her fingers twisted into the short hairs at the back of his head, pressing against him to better angle herself to meet every thrust. Immediately she was rewarded with a fresh wave of heat that seeped to where they were joined, arousing a moan to pass between them.

“Ahk,” she cried, so close and almost in tears from the intense waves of pleasure he sparked with every thrust like nothing she’d ever felt.

Nouke clung to him with an iron grip despite her rapidly diminishing strength. She choked out another moan when his hand hoisted her other leg around his waist, creating a new angle that found her sweet spot every time his hips hammered into her.

Sweat beaded to cool her skin, provoking more chills to work down her spine, coupling euphorically with every other sensation vibrating through each nerve ending.

“Ahk…” she husked out again in a plea, the muscles in her abdomen constricting, her walls growing tighter around his cock as her climax built.

His lust-filled eyes took several moments to find their focus as his hand moved to cradle her throat—a gesture of prideful passion—squeezing just enough to propel a fierce jolt of heat to every hollow and shadowed place inside her. Nouke’s muscles grew impossibly tighter, back bowing in reaction.

Ahkmenrah’s hand was still on her throat when he found the focus to drink in the sight of his queen. The lewd intensity in his black eyes was something that, even through her hazy vision, made Nouke powerless against him.

“This time I want you to scream,” he demanded with a growl and a crooked smirk. “Come for your king, and scream so everyone knows you are mine.”

As he spoke, his hot breath scorched across her overly stimulated skin, causing the build-up of tension to snap at once. She screamed as everything uncoiled in a white-hot rush. Nouke’s vision tunneled, forcing her eyes shut, tears ruining the kohl as they streamed down her face at the manifestation of her joyous pleasure.

The erratic pulse of her walls worked Ahkmenrah to the brink, hips trembling as he reached his peak a moment later. He cried her name into the air with a chanted refrain that echoed the movements of his thrusts until he filled her; hot cum coating her walls, mixing with her own.

Her head rolled forward onto his shoulder, its weight suddenly too much to manage as she came down from her high, sounding a haggard but satisfied sigh. Ahk mimicked the motion, resting close enough to plant soft, barely there, kisses to her neck and shoulder as he held her with all his remaining strength.

“Did I hurt you, my love?” he asked in a calming murmur that was free of his previous, dominating bravado.

After a couple more steady breaths, Nouke raised her head to meet his gaze; his eyes were blue again—the lusty blackness chased away. There was a twinge of concern on his compassionate features that made her heart swell as he searched for an answer in her expression.

A gentle smile spread over her lips as her fingers mapped the line of his jaw in feather-light touches; her eyes fixated on his, enchanted by the kindness glistening in them.

“No,” she said, her smile growing. “On the contrary.”

Ahkmenrah beamed and joined their lips in a lazy passionate kiss.

Incrementally they unwound themselves from the other, and immediately Nouke missed the feeling of him inside of her. By the look on his face, Ahkmenrah shared the bereft feeling and made a point of keeping himself pressed to her body as they stood.

“Do you think anyone heard us?” Nouke asked with a coy smirk playing around her mouth and eyes, unable to look away from her husband's swollen lips.

He teased her with a flash of his tongue, making them shine deliciously in the starlight. Ahk stole a glance around, then met her with a cheeky smirk.

“It doesn’t appear so,” he paused. “Perhaps we should try again?”

His brow hoisted high into a playful arch as his hands wove behind her, giving her ass a firm squeeze.

“If you think you’re up to it.” Nouke matched his grin and tangled her fingers in his thick hair, gently massaging his scalp.

Ahkmenrah closed his eyes and purred at the sensation of her blunt nails working the crown of his head. He stole a quick kiss before his entire face erupted into a toothy, arrogant smile.

“You doubt your king?”

“Never.”

Nouke claimed his lips again, feeling each of their impish grins mold into a soulful and demanding show of effortless passion. It took only the sweep of his tongue begging for entrance to prompt the familiar heat to begin to build once more, and when he moaned, she did too. They were blatantly aware how easy it would be to chase their pleasure to completion a second and third time, and both of them didn’t care. They were making up for lost time.

Ahkmenrah was already semi-hard; the growing length of his cock pressed against her making her ache, and she whimpered impatiently.

“Always so eager,” Ahk mused, reaching as he dipped a finger between her slick folds; the surprise almost enough to send her careening back over the edge.

Before Nouke could bite out a witty response, the sound of Setshepsut’s voice broke their serenity.

“Nouke!?”

The sudden sound rendered their roaming hands and lips immobile and Ahkmenrah cursed under his breath with a defeated smirk.

“Apparently, my sister heard us.” Although his tone was annoyed, his expression was amused.

When Set’s call came again, it was closer, causing the king and queen to scramble in a rushed attempt to make themselves look respectable; as if the purple and red marks on both their necks weren’t evidence of their rendezvous.

“Nouke?!...Oh! Ahkmen, have you seen Nou—”

Ahk was still tying his shendyt when he turned to cast her a grin. And while Nouke couldn’t see it, she knew it was undoubtedly gushing with shameless gusto and telling enough to match his hastily adorned attire and wayward curls.

“What’s the matter, Set?” Ahk asked as he casually bent to retrieve his discarded belt and refastened it.

Setshepsut’s eye watched him, blinking, mouth slightly open as though her words were suddenly lost.

“I—um—heard Nouke scream…” she decided on, abruptly looking as though she regretted investigating the sound.

The pharaoh tossed a quick look to his queen behind him, then met his sister with a prideful smirk, “I assure you; we are both quite well.”

Set nodded, casting a swaying glance to them both, “I see that.”

She paused to give her brother a mock look of disapproval, “I am aware the future of Egypt relies on you producing an heir, but some of your guests have noticed your absence. I suggest you finish this up.”

She eyed them both with a quirk tugging the corner of her lips that made it clear she was more amused than dismayed.

“Of course, Set. We were only doing our duty as king and queen,” Ahkmenrah teased further, and Setshepsut rolled her eyes.

“Mmhmm,” she hummed as she turned away to make her way back to the party.

“We probably should go back,” Nouke sighed as she smoothed out the wrinkled front of her dress.

The allure of staying tucked away with Ahkmenrah was almost too much to ignore, but the beckon of responsibility was stronger. When he glided effortlessly into her orbit, wrapping his arms around her waist, she reached to comb her fingers through his hair in an attempt to tame the messy curls she couldn’t keep from touching.

“Mmm,” Ahk purred, brushing the tip of his nose over her’s gently. “We do have the rest of our lives to spend together.”

He never looked away from her, his eyes crystal clear.

“I think we can afford to share the rest of this night with people who came to celebrate us,” he added as he pulled her into one last kiss that drifted into a slow draw that embodied the depth of his love.

“Are you with me, my love?” Ahkmenrah wove their fingers together as he spoke.

“Now and forever,” Nouke nodded. 

Next Chapter-> Chapter Seventeen: The Blessings We Deserve

#Ahkmenrah #Ahkmenrah x Original Character #Ahkmenrah Fanfiction #Night at the Museum #NATM #NATM Fanfiction #Left to Ruin #Rami Malek Character #Rami Malek Character Fanfiction #Rami Malek Fanfiction #Rami Malek #Smut #Ahkmenrah Smut

[septic-skele]

US - Doomed To Repeat

Summary:  When Papyrus comes down with a fever, it brings back old and eerily familiar anxieties for Blue.

This wasn’t happening again. It was going to be fine! Blue swore fiercely as he heaped a handful of medicine bottles from the cabinet. With Blue taking such magnificent care of him, Papy would be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed again in no time (though he had neither eyes nor a tail.) He would be well and all would be fine and Blue wouldn’t allow such doubts to seed in his mind again.

Until the next time.

One of the pill bottles slipped through his hands, clattering and popping to spill its contents into the sink. Blue faltered to a stop as the precious little capsules circled the drain.

One by one by one they bounced out of sight and…he continued to watch.

Why was he just standing there? Why didn’t he set aside what he already had in his arms and do anything to stop them? Fool. Papyrus might have needed those pills, those in particular, and now Blue would have to rush to and from the pharmacy for more.

The nearest was almost halfway across town and the car was low on gas from his excursion yesterday, a lovely outing with his new human friends. He should have made a stop to refuel on the way home. Why hadn’t that idea occurred to him then, when it was important?

Didn’t Undyne live closer to the pharmacy? Could Blue call on her to make that trip? She was what the humans called a “night owl”; surely she would still be awake at this hour. She would answer her phone. Blue knew how dear his brother was to her. If she knew how poorly Papy was doing—

But he wasn’t! Desperation clamored to insist. He wasn’t doing poorly; he’d been in worse shape before, at least, and Blue wouldn’t allow it to go any farther.

How could he have let it come so far already? Senseless, useless clod. You never learned a thing.

That only meant he had to try twice as hard. This was just like any other battle; he could hold the line here. He would prove just how capable he could be on his own. Undyne didn’t need to be bothered.

The sound of wet, grating coughs from the other room stirred his restless soul. He didn’t dare waste any more time, crossing the hall and shouldering open the door to dump the rest of the medicine bottles onto Papyrus’ nightstand. Papy flinched at the jarring noise, eye sockets cracking open into narrow slits. As soon as he took note of the bottles, he cringed deeper into his blankets.

“Nnnh…no…” he slurred pleadingly. “No more, dun’ make me take an’more, please…”

“These are only precautionary, brother!” Blue assured him with false cheer, his hands skittish as he arranged the bottles into a neat row, each an inch apart. He measured the distance twice to be certain. “I’m making them easily accessible if you should need them. But you won’t! Your—Your fever will break sometime in the night and you’ll be your proper self again by morning. I’m sure of it!”

Hadn’t he believed that last time, when he almost…? But Blue was older and wiser now. He wouldn’t be making any of those same mistakes; that had to count for something.

“Dun’ make me.” Papyrus didn’t seem to absorb a word that had been said. “S’too much…all at once, all th’ time…It stings…”

Blue stiffened.

He wasn’t sure why.

There was no reason to think that sounded familiar, that Papyrus had ever described anything like that to him before.

“Stinging, needles, needles all over. Cold…! Ow, ow, oww…”

If he had ever said such things, Blue surely would have listened. Surely he would have cared and understood and realized exactly what Papyrus needed and that was what he would have done for him.

If he hadn’t been so unforgivably stupid.

“Heh…heh, hey now, there’s no need to kick up a fuss, Papy,” he assured him lightly, jaw aching for the sake of his smile. “I’m here to help you. That alone should be a boost for your spirits!”

There was an unseen hand of guilt squeezing at the back of his skull, mocking him. He hadn’t even noticed anything was amiss when he came home. He had assumed Papyrus was sound asleep as usual and hadn’t even taken a meager second to indulge common decency to check in on him. Had he done so, he would have seen that both the couch and Papyrus’ room were empty.

Muffet would have noticed. After those many years with her “bone hatchlings” secure in her web, she would have discovered something improper in an instant. She would have heard the pipes running. What are you, deaf or witless? Too wrapped up in your happy little head to think of his safety, home alone all that time?

Perhaps growing up with her overseeing had made Blue complacent. How much time had he squandered with his inane little nightly routine before ducking into the bathroom to find his brother…?

Clutching the edge of the nightstand for balance as the room seemed to swerve, Blue tried for a hasty breath to center himself. Papyrus’ room was stuffy with sweat and old smoke; there wasn’t enough clean air to fill his ribcage. His soul churned and trembled, barely audible under the memory of roaring water.

Pawing at the limp form sprawled in the growing puddles, gasping at the way his bones burned under his touch.

“Papyrus? Papyrus! Can you hear me, brother?”

It was a memory of a memory, a living nightmare returned to beat him down again, to tear away control, to finish its job after all these years. Blue couldn’t do this again, he couldn’t face it. This time he would lose him, he would fail him again and there would be no rescue, no coming back—

Trembling fingertips brushed his arm and he startled, reeling sideways to smack the hand Papyrus had outstretched. A millisecond later he realized what he had done and grabbed for it, shamefacedly pressing it between his own. Sticky, sickly heat radiated from Papyrus’ palm, bleeding into his, but he couldn’t let go now. It was his anchor.

“I’m sorry.” That couldn’t be his voice, could it, tense and tremulous? Had he even said that aloud or was it only one of the many thoughts crowding his head?

Just look at him. Look at him, he’s more important. Hold onto him, have to make sure he stays real.

Papyrus’ sockets were half-lidded, eyelights drowned out by the amber glow in his cheekbones, but beyond the exhaustion there was a watery spark of lucidity that made him twitch his fingers, trying to squeeze.

“…Sans?”

Papyrus’ voice was little more than a fragile wheeze through chattering teeth but it was enough. Not “Blue,” he had said, but “Sans,” which meant that even through the haze he could discern something was wrong.

Stars, Sans couldn’t even keep a modicum of composure for him. Was he always so pathetic? He couldn’t afford to show such weakness, not now, when Papyrus needed to lean on him.

“Your help will be the most vital for him. He’ll need your spirit and your strength to lean on every day.”

“Something’s wrong with me…Why can’t I be strong like you are? Why am I like this?!”

“It’s alright,” he choked out, throat hitching to betray him. “You’re alright. That’s really all that matters, Papy, is that you’ll be alright. Please, don’t trouble yourself with anything else.”

___________________________________

A/N: This is sort of an exploration of Blue's repressed/subconscious trauma from the events of Heed The Signs. If you haven't read that one, basically babybones Papyrus got really sick and Blue, being a kid himself who didn't know any better, made some poor choices while trying to care for him. He couldn't really forgive himself for his mistakes, even after Pap recovered, so seeing him in that position again just brings all of his ingrained fears back to the surface.

The poor guy needs a hug.

#undertale #underswap #fanfiction #sans #sans undertale #papyrus #papyrus undertale #swap sans #swap papyrus #sickfic #whump #angst #brotherly love #self esteem issues #self doubt #hurt comfort #sans needs a hug

[unconsciouscelestial]

More than Fellows

For @adorible Sorry this took longer than I anticipated, I hope you like it

      You had been dreading this week for quite some time. Your horribly racist cousin David was getting married, and your grandparents desperately wanted you to come. He was racist in every which way, monsters, humans, just a right xenophobic asshole. But your grandparents hadn’t seen you in a while, and didn’t have time to visit outside of the wedding. You had agreed originally to go with the idea that your partner at the time would come along, but just two weeks prior you both had called the relationship quits. You sat at your desk, listening to some Type O- while searching dating profiles. You didn’t really want a real date, just someone who would come along as a friend but pretend to be a real date. Then a profile popped up that made you cackle with glee! A scary skeleton monster with sharp teeth. Oh this would really rub David the wrong way, but he wouldn’t really be able to do boo with the family there. Hopefully this skeleton dude would go along with it? You figured honesty was best policy here, all cards on the table. You reached out and messaged them.

[You: Hey. I have a proposal if you’re up for it. You seem like a cool guy, and I need a as-friends date for a (racist) cousins wedding. Really piss him off ya know? You’d have to pretend to actually be my date though, I know it’s kinda cliche but no pressure. ]

The reply was instant.

[Sans: what do i get outta this?]

Oh. Huh. You hadn’t really thought of that.

[You: I dunno... I mean obviously free food and drink? But what would you want that would make it worth your while?]

You hit send before you realized the implications that could be taken from that. Shit. You hoped that he wouldn’t notice or use that to his advantage. You worried at your bottom lip thinking of something else to offer, when the notification of a response went off.

[Sans: free food & drink is good. I wanna bring my bro too though. He can be 2nd date if ya want]

WHAT?! I mean, that be hilarious as heck, but the gossip to be had for months about you after that...screw it. It’s totally worth it.

[You: you know what? That sounds freakin hilarious and awesome to be honest. Sure. Bring your brother along. Do you guys wanna meet up sometime before the wedding to talk things over or something? It’s in five days]

[Sans: hahaha srsly? You’re killin me. Alright. There’s a band I like comin' to town, quiet little bar though. Wanna go to that?]

[You: sure, heres my number. Txt me the details. xxx-xxxx]

     The two of you texted back and forth for a while, he added his brother to a separate group chat too. His brother Papyrus came across a bit blunt and intense but it was refreshing, and kind of cool. You thought it was a bit odd that Sans called Papyrus Boss, but they shrugged it off and you put it to rest.

     You guys all met up at the bar in the middle of the week, it was good food and drink. There had been some time to discuss plans while eating, and you quite enjoyed the kickass music. Both Sans and Papyrus seemed to have a good time, which made you feel better about the whole thing. You would even say that you could do this again, they were pretty awesome guys to hang out with.

     The morning of the wedding you got ready in excitement. You were wearing a high waisted crimson pantsuit with big black buttons. You had left the jacket open to show the gorgeous black chiffon blouse you wore. It had a high neck with ruffle detail, and a soft crimson rose and faded black leaves pattern. On your feet you had thrown on ankle high flat leather boots, and you had done your makeup and hair just the way you liked. You were pacing around in your foyer, all your doubts starting to creep up on you. What if David decided to say something anyway? These guys were cool, you really didn't want to put them through that. Your thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell, and you grabbed your wallet, phone and keys and answered the door.      Both Sans and Papyrus were waiting for you at the door, and your jaw just about fell off. Papyrus was wearing a black satin suit and dress shirt, the jacket lined with crimson. He had a crimson tie and gloves as well, and his black leather belt was adorned by a gold skull buckle. Sans was wearing black slacks and dress shirt, a crimson vest, and black suspenders. His suspender clasps were little gold bottles of mustard. 

“Ya got a little somethin there...” Sans chuckled, while pointing to your chin. 

You felt your face flush, and you swatted his hand jokingly away from you. “Shuttup I do not.” “YES, WHILE THE STATE OF YOUR SHOCK AT SANS ABILITY TO 'CLEAN UP' IS QUITE AMUSING, I BELIEVE WE MUST BE OFF,” Papyrus pointed out, gesturing toward a black 2021 Chevrolet Camaro. He opened the passenger door for you to slide in the back. You opted to sit behind Sans as you figured Papyrus would need the leg room.

     You arrived at the venue, and after finding parking (Papyrus didn't trust the valet) you walked in with a skeleton on each arm. You found your grandparents and approached them, quietly introducing Sans and Papyrus. Your grandpa just huffed but shook both their hands anyway. Papyrus kissed your grandma's hand however and she almost burst into a fit of giggles, and she winked at you. You all shared a row, another couple sitting on either end. The wedding was okay; the furious look David shot you while he was waiting for his bride, filled you with a sense of justice. After the wedding at the reception you were relieved to find that you were sitting at your grandparents table. There was a moment where the ushers almost didn't let Sans and Papyrus come in, but when you made it explicitly clear that they were your dates you were all let through. Both skeletons went to pull out your chair, but you had pulled out two for them on either side of you. You all grinned sheepishly and sat down. In hindsight you were glad that you were all at an “extra” table so the fact you brought two dates was okay. Just goes to show you how David really felt about you and your accepting grandparents. Supper and speeches went by relatively quick compared to what you've witnessed in the past, and soon it was time to dance. The bride and groom had their dance, and went on to socialize with their guests. Papyrus stood, and offered his hand out to you to dance. You placed your hand in his and he led you out on to the dance floor. Papyrus was an amazing dancer and you told him as much.

“You Aren't So Bad Yourself Y/n” he said softly on the top of your head.

The song ended before you knew it, and you two were interrupted by Sans. The next song was slower, and Sans pulled you in close.

“you look stunnin' tonight y/n, just wanted ya to know,” he hummed in your ear. You were glad your face was in his shoulder, it hid your warm face well. The dance was rudely disrupted by the announcer calling out for the bouquet toss. You got the heck out of dodge and tried to avoid the clamoring group starting to gather. You stood back enough that you hoped you wouldn't get trampled. However, just as the bride tossed the bouquet, Sans playfully pushed you into the group and the flowers fell right onto your head and bounced into your arms. Sans was damn near rolling on the floor, and even Papyrus was covering his mouth attempting to cover up his chuckling. You grinned, and took the opportunity for humour. Clutching the flowers tightly you ran across the dance floor throwing individuals flowers back at the group chasing after you. The bride was laughing so hard she was crying, but David was seeing red. He grabbed the microphone from the announcer and spit furiously into it, “ENOUGH!! Y/N, GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WEDDING AND TAKE YOUR FILTHY HORRIBLE MONSTER SCUM WITH YOU!” 

Your grandparents, quite a few people from both sides and even the bride stared at David in shock. Sans’ eyelights had gone out, and Papyrus looked like he was itching for David to say more. You threw the rest of the bouquet on the floor as hard as you could, dusted yourself off, and stuck both middle fingers up at David. 

“Get wrecked you xenophobic prick” you called out, and pulled your dates out the door with you.

     Sans teleported the three of you to a nearby empty park. After the initial shock of teleportation, the three of you spent the rest of your night chatting away while stargazing and eating a box of petite fours that Sans had nabbed. You got a message from your grandparents at one point, apparently the bride threw the ring at David's face after y'all had left and you grinned. You watched the skeletons bickering for a moment and you felt happy, cozy and warm. Maybe this was going to be more than you bargained for, but you didn't mind one little bit.

#personal writing challenge #Undertale #underfell #undertale au #writing #reader insert #sans #papyrus #wedding date trope