HugleTale

HugleTale is an Undertale AU, created by StacyCPR1704, where Echo Flowers are replaced with Gem Flowers. The name, HugleTale, is an acronym that represents the 5 main characters of the AU.

H - Hate
U - Useless
G - Greed
L - Lies
E - Envy

In HugleTale, their souls were also portrayed here as gems, each with a different type, and along them were special flowers that gave abilities to anyone who consumes them.

Based on their references, Sans (named in the AU as Olen), was a mage, a riddler at that, who becomes a prince after an incident that took place Underground, which was caused by his father, the royal advisor, Dark!Gaster. Frisk and Chara in this AU were saviors-turned-to-ambassadors of the Underground. In the end, however, because of the said incident, they were back to living on the Surface, unconscious to the resets happening Underground.

Like every AU detail I put in my AU-based oneshots, this is based on what I knew and researched, so please correct me if I'm wrong. 😅

I hope you all understood, while you guys might not understand my naturally rushed and organized chapter, lezzgo!! :D

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

       One sat amongst the evergreens, wistfully gazing at the horizon, as he--who was seated in fair serenity and all--gently caressed soft petals of purple hydrangeas, all the while engrossed to scribbling crystal blue ink on worn out paper. Hydrangeas...

       Hydrangeas are flowers in many forms. Its vividness present in both scent and sight--although they vary in all types of figures, hydrangeas are, but of the same class, a flower amongst all, and appreciative to its origin of phase, its types, mere details yet to be known to make up a whole.

       Of blues, of pinks, of white and all, one shall go shillyshally, baffled to know; Which one could tell my dear the best story? And that of which it presents not just emotions, but me in a way of a comforting presence?

       For every medium he sent with a bit of extras here and there, it enlightened me to see the process formed unconsciously, as he did not send the flower in subject as a single form. An offering he wrote; his first letter went as such;

       Dear Frisk, --that he scribbled.

             I send this to you with blue hydrangeas.

             I know it must have been hard for the both of you, with you sister, Chara, I mean, but know that Owen and I are rooting for you. I beg you, fortify admirable Determination. We may have lost all rays of hope, but let us imagine you as our flames of candlelit guidance, our hopeless fantasy, the long awaited quench to our thirst on eternal salvation.

             Let us share your pain, sympathize on loss, as it may be a blather to us, but with you involved, we cherish as if we were the ones in place of you.

             You are but our fore sought luminosity, until again, I shall update you with brisk, Frisk. ;)

Sincerely Yours,

Sans

       Of course, not only he received back an air-transmitted sugar sweet smile, but also a particularly much longed attention was seized by his genuine empathy, sealing their fate, their eyes meant only for their own to seek. And must she have to fall to a worthwhile creature like him? To have been helplessly tugging heartstrings due to some cliché message of bare encouragement? As I have always told them--you, dear reader, well... why not?

       Sending her letters, moment by moment, it was of professional uses, the usual report, and nothing more. At times, he sends back a blue flower, it has always been blue, and even once as white--though it was to congratulate their bountiful success--hydrangeas. Not until, he sent a different one this time; it was pink, known most vivaciously lovely above all Flora Kingdom.

       Dear Lumen, --even she was surprised.

             I send this to you with pink hydrangeas, as rosy as I shall expect in return a fluster from you. For so, your reaction I will take as your call, you felt the same as my soul jittered in glee.

             How absurd, yes indeed, of someone as hollow of a creature, dead in the eyes as me to be blinded by the very definition of light. You are, but radiant sun flares, passing through gaseous fractures with persevering ease, reaching out to melt my depressing winters away from frosted, stone cold clouds of grey.

             It was you to whom my undead features flourished with life--my soul accepting to beat only to the rhythm of your incoming strides, you'd say I was alive, but a heart is what I do not have in possession. It was never within my reach, nor existence--I knew it was with you all along, your frame unconsciously frolicking, never bothering to notice my heart healing as it was hung onto your Golden grasp.

             I would love to express my sincerest gratitude for keeping me, a man devoid of life, filled to the brim with unmeasurable vigor, over a cup of tea? Meet me, anywhere and anytime you want, I long for your fluster to appear, dearest Lumen.

       PS: Maybe we can blow up potions during the day if ya wanna...? O-O' I'm sure you'll have a blast!

With Immense Love,

Olen

       I'm sure even you are curious to know if she ever answered back? She was overjoyed, the beautiful cliché scenario, sprinting to meet his open embrace, accepting the reality of what it meant to be hers, and his. It made me smile, for that day, what remarkable surprise, pink hydrangeas were tucked neatly behind her ear. Those flowers, they knew, a secret language saying "I love you too.", it was more than lovely, an everlasting beauty none can object in view from all sides, free of flaws—but, you do remember what hydrangeas are, don't you?

       Alas, the fate of every flower, very dastard to a feeble dream.

       Even hydrangeas—love can wilt its wasted deceivingly healthy petals. Any living thing would soon have no choice but to agree, knowing we to, sag as seasons were spent. So what will you do? Will there be fertilizers of the heart, nature's preservatives to keep our love from flagging to null? Do I, you, we have any reasonable right to regain what was lost, do we??

       Dear Lumen,

             I send this to you with...

       Dearest Princess,

             You know who I am...

       Dear Sweetheart,

             I'm worried you-...

       Dear Frisk,

             Will you even answer my calls? ...

       Dear Lumen,

             When will you retur-...

       Dear-...

       "AAAAaaagh!" he yelled on top of his non-existent lungs. He was the one who suggested to send her away, to be one with sunlight and rain alike, in attempts of preserving her weary consciousness, to save a flower—he chose this, I knew it's hypocritical of him to kneel in front of regret for an action he implemented himself. Why are you so frustrated, Olen?

       He wrote letter by letter, each either with flowers of grief, or pink. But none was sent to his distant receiver. Don't ask me why, he didn't send them, wasting ink on paper to meet a crumpled destiny in a trash bin. With the passing of time, one shan't believe how many letters were written by him each day, if you did not notice the fields of Hydrangeas—once were fields, alas, it's no longer, nothing but beheaded stems on drooping tall green grasses. Someone might tell him to learn about conserving the said flowers, but nay, he was too deaf by whispers of grievance, plucking flower after flower, he's dead without the light once more...

       Dear Frisk,

            I send this to you with purple hydrangeas.

             You may not know why I send you a flower, it's as a friend, your companion, Sans. I did not wait for so long to see you approach, never once knew you. However, it would be fate's fault if I felt to have longed for your arrival. This is my first time writing such a letter between us, two people of separate and unfamiliar lives... I wanted to be your friend, and start anew, if that's alright with you. It's a tad much for me to ask, but even just a glance, I wanted to see who you are, and why you're always in my mind every night and day for no reason.

             Please... Give me that, I longed for a reason to see you...

Somewhere Yours,

Sans

      He gazed once more at the lavender flowers in his grasp. It was long wilted, losing its radiance and scent, as it the last of its kind... Along with the letter, he crumpled, then threw, and who knows which fate it landed into. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

A/n: Don't mind me, this is just a oneshot submission for StacyCPR1704's HugleTale anniversary event, which I put up here as a free chapter... Again. O-O I know you, pinksterz💕 are waiting for the next unlocked oneshot to arrive, but, school is not giving me any slip or sleep, so, really sorry, I couldn't finish it... I might undergo hiatus for awhile because of this, I'm sorry. TwT

Also, it's best you guys knew about what the flowers meant;

> Pink Hydrangeas - Passionate Emotions

> Blue Hydrangeas - Sympathy and Apology

> White Hydrangeas - Boast/Proud

> Purple Hydrangeas - Longing

I'll get back to everything if I have the chance, don't worry! 😅