Hey peeps! Welcome to my first Cuphead fic
Don't ask me why I wrote this. I really don't know. I just kinda love the game and decided to make this story.
Basically it's a one-shot collection. I've seen these kinds of AU's on DeviantArt and I decided why give my own spin for it? I'm pretty good at writing anyways...
Whatever. I hope you enjoy.
Disclaimer: I do not own Cuphead. So, yeah.
And without further ado, on with the show.
Chapter 1: The Rumpelstiltskin Proposition. Pt. 1
The world of Toon's held many legions, but most famous of all of them was the story of a Chalice.
This young woman was a mighty warrior, with a cup made of gold for her head. Some believed that she was an angle, though no such proof existed to back the claim up. She, along with the other members of the legendary Coetus Vasculo, had unique powers that had barely been seen, powers that could even challenge the Devil himself and win. These where the powers of heaven; something that old Lucifer himself could only hope to have.
Even when the Chalice was slain, she didn't die. Her soul continued to live on, with power beyond limits. Her ghost was a source of hope and inspiration to everyone in the world.
Then she went missing. Her ancestors tracked her back down to Inkwell Island; a place in the world of Toon that many avoided due to rumors that the entrance to hell was stationed in that place. But their efforts where not unrewarded. An old ghost, the mistress of the mausoleum, knew the location of the Legendary Chalice, though she would not tell anyone her secrete.
Soon, Inkwell Island began to populate. Despite the entrance to hell supposedly resting on the island, or maybe because of it, people flocked towards the islands, transforming it into a booming and beautiful city, where many would go to find work, relax, live, and start a family. And slowly, but surly, the ancestors of the Chalice began to thin out and fade away.
The last of the ancestors was a young tea cup with gold embroidery, and a curled handle, made from a smooth china. Her eyes where two large oval's with pointed edges, coated in eyelashes, resting near the top of her head, with the black chipped bead many toons had making her iris and pupil. Underneath was a ruby-colored nose, that was somewhat larger than average. She kept a silver sugar spoon inside her head, as well as various liquids, with a jasmine tea being her favorite. She simply wore a plain red dress; no bow's, no patterns, barely any shape, just long sleeves, and fabric that flowed from her neck to her knees; a pair of brown shoes, and the white gloves, that it seemed every toon wore, around her four fingers. This young woman was appropriately named China Cup.
One day, while China Cup was strolling through the streets of Inkwell Island III (The island had three major cities. The first was the forest, the second was the carnival grounds, and the third was the city area), she happened to catch eyes with a man her age in the window of a bar. He held the essence of a country boy, with his loose blue overalls and rolled up sleeves. His body and head was as made of marble as China Cup's was made of china. Though it was his head that was most intriguing.
He was a white, marble, six sided die. Each of his pip's where a dark blue, same as his overalls, with his face made from the "one" side, and the single blue pip serving as his nose. He had a goofy smile, circle-shaped eyes, and what seemed like a failed attempt on his part to grow a mustache.
It was practically love at first sight.
China Cup approached the young man, entering the bar. He put down the class he was cleaning (as he seemed to simply be a waiter) and gave her a goofy smile. "Hello, my lady. What may I do for you, today?" He asked politely.
China cup gave the man a small smile. "You can start by telling me your name," she said.
The man smiled. "My name is Dice," he held out a hand for her to shake, which she took without hesitation. "And your name, dear?"
"China Cup," she answered, still wearing a smile
A few years later, the two were married, and had two young boys, one a year old, and the other a few months. Both the little boys where cups, like their mother, with the eldest inheriting his moms red complexion, while the younger was blue, like the father. The small family was happy.
But it didn't last for long.
Soon there was an accident. Stoplights had yet to be installed on Inkwell Island, and China Cup was hit by a car. Her head was cracked, and the liquid soul inside her head had started to spill out. Her broken pieces laid in the streets.
Dice was left to sit in horror as his wife and love was slowly dying in the hospital. "It should've been me!" He cried. "I'm made from marble; that hit would've barely damaged me! Why did you have to break?!"
He got no answer but his own tears.
At China Cups funeral, Dice simply sat still. His eldest son sat quietly in his fathers lap, unsure what was happening, just knowing that he hadn't seen his mama in a long time, and that his daddy was sad. Elder Kettle; China Cups great Uncle, held the younger of the sons in his arms, giving the grieving husband a comforting pat on the arm.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, more to himself then to Dice, though Dice simply responded anyways.
"I'm sorry too," He whispered, before covering his eyes, and sobbing uncontrollably. He couldn't stop sobbing, not when his son started crying from his lap, desperately begging his daddy not to cry. But Dice couldn't stop. Not even for his baby.
Eventually, Elder Kettle took his sons home, while Dice simply sat at his wife's tombstone, his face tucked into his knees, looking like a lost child.
"You look pathetic right now," Jeered someone else.
Dice swiftly turned around, only to lay eyes on a muscular form, covered in pitch-black hair, with two large horns growing out of his scull. He had a wicked smile, filled to the brim with dozens of sharp teeth. His eyes where a brilliant gold and fiery orange, that seemed to burn with just his stare.
"What the–," Dice stuttered. "Who the hell are you!?"
"Just an old fart with a helping hand to offer, for a price, of corse,"
A deal was soon made. The dead couldn't be brought back to life, perse, but, in exchange for Dice's soul, he could change time, so that it was him who was hit by a car, not his china-skinned wife. And time was changed. Dice was hit by the car, not China Cup. And he was right to say he wouldn't die. What happened to him was much worse.
China Cup has dropped her sons off at Elder Kettle's house and marched straight into Inkwell Hell. She was going to get her husband back.
Dice had been hit by a car a month ago, and as a result, lost his memory. China Cup worked tirelessly to figure out how to get it back, but nothing worked. Then suddenly, one day, her dear husband went missing.
When she saw him next he had changed. His blue pips had changed to a shade of lavender that she would've thought looked dashing in any other situation. He had successfully grown the mustache, which was pitch black and stringy. His eyes had turned green, the same shade of green as toxic gas. He was no longer Dice, her loving husband. He was the wicked King Dice; the devils right hand man; and he had no memory of who he used to be.
The Devil, remembering the change in time, and the contract made, took advantage of Dice's situation. With his power over his soul, the Devil gave Dice fake memories, and everything was different.
So China Cup marched into the casino, right past the new King Dice, who she dared not even look at, for fear of loosing her courage, and entered the Devils office.
"Give me my husband back!" She demanded.
The Devil smiled. "Well, I knew I'd be seeing you sooner or later, Ms. China Cup. Would you like to make a bargain?"
The Devil himself flinched in supprise when China Cup lifted a flaming finger gun, aimed at the spot between his eyes.
"I won't ask again," she snapped. "GIVE ME MY HUSBAND BACK!!"
The Devil stood up from his desk, laughing. "You've got spirit, toots, I'll give you that,"
China Cup didn't even flinch.
The Devil scowled. "If its a fight you want, it's a fight you're gonna get,"
The high-pitched scream of a woman sounded through the Devils office, along with the sound of something shattering. King Dice quickly ran into the office, concerned.
"Boss, what happened!?" He shouted, worried.
The body of a woman, her cup head shattered into millions of pieces and her liquid soul pooled around the floor, said everything.
The Devil gave his right-hand man a smile. "Just an upset patron. Nothing to be worried about," he explained, casually. "Would you mind finding someone to clean up? I'm in the mood for some hard cider right now," and with that, the Devil left the room.
King Dice stared at the body of the woman. There was something sad about it; tragic even. Enough to make his eyes fill up with tears and his heart shatter, though he couldn't understand why. He didn't know this woman.