/o/

[dustless]

//justletmewindemonthatcomesgeneral catchall post for Toy Story AUs since I love that shit

Comments

for demonthatcomes

[dustless]

(continued from here)

Frisk blasts a bit of hard rock from their speakers for a while--their headphones are broken--and ends up playing around with the buttons before they really notice them. They push them lightly around the top of the desk with their fingertips, and eventually glance down when they realize they're too light to be pennies or nickels.

Buttons. Huh.

...the doll probably had eyes once, they've got thread in place under the marker scribbles...

Frisk glances over their shoulder, then pads over to the bed, looking them over carefully. Yeah, there's place for buttons. If they had a thread and needle, anyway. There's probably some in the house somewhere... or they could use glue, except those would fall off too easy, and probably make them look like they were crying all the time. And doing that-- "Wouldn't be nice," they mutter to themselves, angling Chara around.

Frisk is considering their options when their mom glances in, eyes falling on the doll. She looks revolted for a moment before sighing. "...Where'd you find that thing?" They look over and don't bother trying to answer. They know her well enough. And yes, barely in a space of a breath, she goes on: "You know you can't sleep with it, it's filthy."

Today's Headline: Muse Suffers While Mundane Eats Popcorn

[demonthatcomes]

No. No. No. No.

It wasn't supposed to matter. Chara let kids and animals and bugs do whatever the hell they wanted to do with their body because they wanted to die already. But no matter what they do, it's never enough to make their consciousness disappear. What sick god decided to give them sentience?

They've been a paintbrush for toddlers, a urinal for a canine, and chewing gum for a feline. But nothing could be so humiliating as this. The words stick like pins in their cloth skin and how they wished to god they weren't so ugly and abnormal. But what difference does it make if they try to change? They'll be ruined and tossed away anyway. Didn't they already accept this?

BUT THAT'S WHAT ALL MUNS LOVE TO DO!

[dustless]

Frisk doesn't defend them, even if there's an urge to. That's always useless. And...when they look closer, they are a little grimy.

"We're going out to eat," their mom tells them. But they already had dinner--well, there's no point in saying that, there's no harm in putting away leftover fries or something. "Now hurry up, get ready!"

And then they're left alone.

They sigh and stand and stretch, holding the doll over their head for a moment to scrutinize again. Yeah, dirty, yeah, needs new eyes. They'll clean them off tomorrow and try to find wherever the needles and stuff are hiding.

Then they head to the desk, slip open the top drawer, and set Chara gently inside. ...In a hat. There's an upside-down cowboy hat in this drawer, for some reason.

Frisk pushes it mostly shut and then gets ready--in other words, heads out to the front door and slips their shoes back on--and within ten minutes, the whole place is devoid of human life.

Chara says, "That doesn't mean I have to LIKE it."

[demonthatcomes]

It's official. Frisk is a weird, weird kid. It's stuffy in the hat, but they'll survive. Getting smushed against Frisk's hair isn't the worst place to be. It's kind of soft, actually. Good thing they don't actually have lungs though.

(i was gonna have em stuck in the drawer with the hat but this is interesting)

[dustless]

Soft hair, slightly tangled. Frisk took the doll with them by pure spite, if they're honest.

Their mom has a car, but the place is just a couple blocks away, and so they walk. Saving gas and all.

The next thing Chara will see is a big, neon-colored tray as they're awkwardly dropped onto the table. Their mom looks over from her menu and looks disgusted--then glances around the place they're in and rolls her eyes. Everything's gross here, it's half a step above a fast food restaurant.

Frisk sticks their tongue out when she looks away.

They get a 'club sandwich' and fries and a shake, and they give their doll the weird yellow toothpick thing that sticks from the sandwich once they get to it. It's a sword, clearly. Chara gets to attack the pepper shakers as Frisk's mom spends her time chatting with the other customers.

[demonthatcomes]

Their first restaurant outing. And Frisk took them with them in defiance of their mother. Chara likes them more and more all the time.

They're tempted to stick their tongue out too. A raspberry, if they can get away with it. Too bad there's too many people here.

They look at the little plastic sword in their hand. This is so cool! They sneak a jab or two at the salt and pepper shakers along with the ketchup bottle. They can't wait to play more with this when they get home.

[dustless]

"You're a pirate," Frisk murmurs decidedly, munching through a particularly crunchy fry.

Their stitches and stuff are due to past battles they'd fought and only narrowly won. Their eyes were a problem, but they've learned to...adapt...because magic. Though they'd actually like to have real eyes again.

It gets dark pretty fast. Before long, they're leaving again, though Frisk has Chara in their hands this time. They get a couple weird looks on the way back, but that might just be because Frisk's walking them over fences and stuff, not the particular state they're in.

[demonthatcomes]

Being a pirate is awesome! If they got an eyepatch, they'd wear it. They imagine having their own ship, sailing the seven seas and braving every storm that dares to try sink them. They'll collect all the booty; they'll start with the penny and everything else they found in Frisk's bed.

[dustless]

They make it home, dropping the food bag they brought with them in the fridge and their hat and stuff away. It's kind of late.

"...you are kinda dirty, though," they say apologetically once they're getting ready for bed.

They put Chara on their desk, leaning against the side of the computer, pick-sword settled across their lap. It takes a few adjustments until they look like they're sitting comfortably. Frisk pats their head and yarn hair a little before heading out, down the hall to brush their teeth.

for justletmewin

[dustless]

(continued from here)

[justletmewin]

[Of course he's the real Asriel Dreemurr. There's no one else in the history of the planet with phenomenal cosmic powers as his. He's got no obstacles to worry about anymore. He's no longer the punching bag of time & space. He won't be a helpless sniveling victim he used to be as a child and flower.

His paw trails the surface of the car. Papyrus had a bed which looked just like this. Did it run? Has anyone driven it? Who loved this car so much they wanted their dust spread over it?

The view outside the window is what ultimately holds his attention. He knows grass, and he's all too familiar with dandelions. But the sky, the gigantic enormous thing that's so blue, so vast, and swathed in clouds. Due to grief and determination to follow through on the plan with Chara, he didn't have time to appreciate the surface for what it was. Time which contained nothing but horrible memories of the failure of the plan, his own death, and the foolishness which cost him everything he held dear.]

[dustless]

[Frisk sits down on the edge of the shelf, letting their plastic feet dangle. They're at an angle where if they fall, they'll probably be able to just end up on the bed.]

[They watch Asriel look at the car, and eventually to stare outside. It's a good view. Even better for him, if they're right...]

Here we are. But...not...um.

What d'you remember?

[Frisk can't remember being made, exactly, but they have memories of be of being packed into a box, and then spending most of the time sort of asleep until the box was reopened again, put right on that same desk across the room. But not once did they think they were actually The Human.]

[justletmewin]

Remember what?

[He's been in this world for far too long. What sort of memories did they want from him?]

...I remember you. I'd never forget someone like you.

[dustless]

...Before you came out of the box. Before [they point at the desk] over there.

[They honestly don't expect the answer to be useful.]

[justletmewin]

You mean you don't know what happened to me?

[He explained everything to Chara: told them he woke up as a flower. Couldn't feel love and compassion. Couldn't feel anything for his parents and decided they were absolutely useless. Told them he wanted to disappear because he couldn't bear living in a world without love... or them. Told them about his newfound save and reset abilities and what he did with them. Told them he was willing to finish what they started.

All that... all that meant nothing? Did they still think Flowey was an entirely separate person?]

I told you everything. But you... you forgotten me. After everything I've done for you, waiting and waiting all these years to find you again... I decided there was nothing worth saving in this world except you.

You didn't remember me or even cared. You sliced me up until I was completely unrecognizable. Then you brought me back and had the gall to grant me mercy. I betrayed you for what you did to me. I took advantage of the friendships you made with all the people you killed and absorbed their souls. I was this close to having my revenge. For the first time... I would've won.

Then you had to take that away from me too.

Why won't you believe me? Do I have to spell it out for you? I'm Flowey. Flowey is Asriel, your best friend. And you killed me.

[dustless]

[...they honestly aren't sure how to tackle this. Frisk, the real Frisk, they'd be determined enough and smart enough to figure it out, they think, but...]

[Well, who else will? Asriel's made of sturdy-looking stuff, they think, but if he tries to fight a bigger figure than himself--or somehow manages to fight (♥FIGHT?) past the instinct to go still when a real human's around, he'll get broken, no doubt about it. He doesn't deserve that.]

Yeah. You're Asriel...and I'm Frisk. 'S far as I know. [They grip the edge of the shelf as tightly as they can, head still facing the window, eyes still angled at him.] And you...are confused, I think.

[justletmewin]

[Frisk? Who was that? Had he mistaken them for his friend all this time? No! It can't be!]

What are you talking about? Are you trying to make a fool out of me? Tell me the truth!

[ideaofjustice]

Wherever Lunatic is, it's somewhere dark.

Theoretically his fire powers should be able to remedy that, but he's aware of being surrounded by something that might be flammable. He's wrapped up in an enormous, papery sheet, and is in the middle of a pile of something solid, but not hard, each of the somethings about the size of his head. Despite this they feel like something that would be easy to crush if he exerted any pressure on them, but Yuri doesn't think it would be a good idea to risk attracting the attention of the voices outside the dark.

"-trying to get rid of old things,' they said." It's a woman's voice, brisk, preoccupied, with a strange resonance. "I'll leave the box on your bed and you can decide if you want to keep it when you look at it."

Has he been abducted? Drugged? The woman does not seem to be talking to him, and perhaps isn't aware of his presence- or isn't aware that he's woken up.

There's a sense of motion from the container he's in- it feels like a container, something like an elevator or a bus stuffed with the strange somethings, but it's hard to move and he can't see for sure. And he can hear footsteps.

Not just hear, actually. He can feel those footsteps, alongside the motion of his container, and he realizes the container he's in is being carried by something enormous.

...A shapeshifting NEXT seems to have kidnapped/drugged him, stuffed him into an enormous box of god-knows-what, and is carrying him around? Why?

He feels the container coming to a stop on something, and hears the footsteps fade away into the distance. Silence, except for the faint rustling of the sheet and the things around him whenever he tries stretching.

[dustless]

Immediately after she disappears in and out, the microwave they're standing in front of shrills.

They grab a pot holder and pull the little pack of cheap lasagna out. They're hungry, but the other stuff they watched her drop on the couch looked fancy, so they don't want to get sauce all over their new whatever-it-is.

Mom's getting her own stuff in order and they're back in their room in less than a minute, setting the food and barely-open container on their flimsy endtable and sitting on their bed hard enough to bounce the box (and their pillows) up a couple inches. They really hope it's not a...a...ceramic thing.

It's hard to open the thing, 'cause there's tape and they haven't got many sharp things. They don't feel like going out in the kitchen to get a knife, so there's some creative fiddling and pencil-puncturing to solve the problem instead, and then they've triumphed over the now-slightly-mangled box.

They're far more careful once they reach inside, brushing the packing peanuts aside and gently fastening their fingers around the sheet and the object before they lift it nearer to their face.

...

Pulling the wrapping down, their brow furrows at the face they're staring at. It's kinda weird.

[ideaofjustice]

His kidnapper seems to have returned.

There's a jarring thump as something big and heavy lands next to Yuri's container, bouncing him and it into the air. It's enough to send his adrenaline through the roof, but there's no pain when he lands. The... packaging, seems to have done its work. But why would this NEXT package him up like some kind of teacup?

Because he is packaged up, and he can hear his kidnapper scratching and ripping at his container. Yuri doesn't know exactly what they have in mind but when light breaks into the container, he braces himself for a confrontation.

"You have made a foolish decision in challenging me. Prepare yourself for the consequences."

...Yuri thinks. Some sudden instinct leave the words to die unsaid as a warm, giant hand wraps around him and lifts him into the air. His body goes limp. One of the giant's fingers brushes aside the sheet he's wrapped in, temporarily obscuring his vision with skin.

It's so bright, after the darkness of the box, that it takes a moment before he can make out the enormous face of a child before him, looking at him with no small amount of confusion.

Oh. They're not big.

He's small.

(Frisk may notice a card buried in with the rest of the packing peanuts. All it says is LUNATIC - "Where there is darkness in the world, I'll be there to snuff it out.")

[dustless]

Before anything else, they glance towards the doorway. Mama, why in the world did you get them this?

...At least the doll looks cool. It's a lot less frustrating to tug him out of the wrapping completely, letting his arms and legs drape over the edge of their hands.

He feels weird in their hands, weighing wrong. They slant their hands left and right, using their thumbs to keep him from sliding off onto their crisscross-applesauce legs. Mostly cloth, but the circle things on his...gloves? That's not soft like his body and limbs, and it proves itself to be plastic once they tap a nail over it. Same when they test his face, a good plastic with a nice paint job. They were told everything their mom brought home was custom made, though they're not really sure why someone'd want a doll specifically like this.

They stretch out a hum as they consider him further, and it's then that it occurs maybe he's got other stuff with him. The card's the only thing they find, which is the slightest bit disappointing, no sword or staff. He looks like he should have something magic.

Silently, Frisk mouths the words as they read them. Odd name along with the look.

Now that they know he's not made of something that'll shatter if they do anything wrong, they plop him and his card on their pillow. They can play with him more in a little bit--right now, they're going to dig into their meal before it gets cold.

[ideaofjustice]

It's surprisingly easy to remain limp in this child's hands, allowing himself to be rolled gently back and forth, even if he feels uncomfortable being scrutinized like this. Part of him wants to try swatting their fingers away when they start tapping their fingernail on his face and wrists, but his overriding instinct is to let the child assume he's just a peculiar toy.

Instinct isn't everything, but he has a feeling this child is an innocent civilian, one with no responsibility for his current circumstances. They're just too obviously confused and when they start to hum, it further confirms that they're not the same as the woman who was speaking earlier. Is she the one who inexplicably disguised him as a doll?

(If Frisk could see through his mask right then, they might realize Yuri is as befuddled as they are.)

-Then the child's attention drifts back to the box he was in. Yuri lets his neck flop to the side so that he can get a look for himself. It's hard to make out, but yes, it seems he was being kept in a box full of packing peanuts.

The child reaches in, and picks out a piece of cardboard that Yuri hadn't noticed earlier. Under the mask his brow furrows, trying to make out the words they're mouthing out. Whatever the message is, it seems serious.

Abruptly, he's set aside along with the card onto a pillow. The child turns their attention to a table nearby, away from Yuri.

Once he's sure they're not looking at him, Yuri risks sitting up and looking around the rest of the room.

[dustless]

The room's obviously to Frisk's scale--giant to him, not overly impressive to someone their size. The walls are a dull blue, a few small cracks running up and down the paint, revealing that it used to be off-white. The bigger cracks have pictures taped over them--magazine clothes they want, posters of robots of all kinds, though the most prevalent are ones posing like they're models--one humanoid and pink, one boxlike and closer to silver.

There's a pretty large window that looks over a street, though he can only see a sky streaked with smog and the top of a greystone building on the other side. There aren't any curtains, only blinds with a few shades broken off. They've decorated it with a vase full of yellow and blue flowers they've found growing in cracks around the streets.

There's a desk yanked straight from some old office, covered in dents and scratches. There's a computer perched on it that looks surprisingly new. An older lamp is hooked on the edge, looking like it's about to fall off, and an action figure of some gryffon thing made of blue and clear plastic stand on to.

As for the bed itself, the pillows he's on are unremarkable, the blanket's covered in a rainbow of stars, and the whole thing is pressed against a wall on the right side.

The endtable they're leaned over has a small drawer on the side and--where he can't yet see it--a small digital clock flashing red on the top.

Frisk realizes about halfway through the package that they've entirely forgotten to get a drink. With a small sigh, they slip off the bed with the lasagna in hand, ambling out of the room to the kitchen again.

Their footsteps are soft. There's a TV on in the other room, playing indistinct commercials.

Otherwise...the entirety of the apartment is silent.

[ideaofjustice]

In many ways, if you discount the size, Frisk's room is probably what most people would consider normal. But it strikes Yuri as shabby, especially in comparison to his own carefully maintained home, and the obviously childish decor such as the posters and blanket... It makes certain, hard to identify feelings stir within him.

At any rate, he doesn't recognize the neighborhood or at least what he can see of it.

He flops back onto the pillow the instant Frisk stirs. He still doesn't want them to realize what he is, and he waits a few beats until they've left before sitting up again.

The quiet just sets him on edge, and Yuri's very careful to move slowly to his feet- walking on a giant mattress feels incredibly peculiar- and pad around the bed, gauging how easy or difficult it would be to climb down at any point. He also gives the griffon thing on the desk a brief stare; something about his current size makes it look a lot more real to him than it should.

[dustless]

There's clinking noises from the kitchen, and then more beeps. Frisk's deciding to make some hot chocolate, in the microwave, naturally. They definitely use too much powder, spilling some, but it's not like anybody's gonna stop them. It's an easy clean.

The bed's not too high--it is a child's bed, after all--and the star blanket easily reaches the floor; not a far climb at all. There's also a toy airplane discarded on the bare wood floor, somewhat dangerously where bare feet could step on it...

And as soon as Yuri redirects his attention to the griffon thing, it moves.

Not a lot. Just a twitch of tiny plastic wings, and re-angling the head to take him in, showing off the snowflake shape it happens to be.

And then, somewhere below--suspiciously near the fallen airplane--a voice comes: "Ugh! Of course as soon Mom gives them a gift, they put it on the bed. N-not that I care or anything!"