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rizzizzsins-blog · 5 years

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From the Ashes, Ch 8

Wanna read this on Archive? Click here.

The shopping trip was a success. Asher rediscovered his love of cyberpunk, and he looked like an extra out of Akira . After he and Cinn had lunch at the food court, much to Edge’s dismay, everyone piled into Edge’s Jaguar, and they were off.

“You both have such nice cars,” Asher marveled a bit.

“Don’t compare my brother’s hunk of junk to my marvel of nature!” Edge frowned a little.

“Listen ‘ere, that Pontiac took me an entire year to restore. I’d like to see ya try it,” Cinn smirked.

“That’s not fair! You know I’m not a tinkerer like you!” Edge protested.

“Then quit throwin’ shade at my baby. She’s perfect the way she is, save fer a little dust from this one,” he nudged Asher with his elbow.

“Oh, sorry,” Asher apologized; Cinn shook his head. “I’m just jokin’, princey. It’ll be alright. ‘S a memory, that’s for sure.”

A memory, huh…

“This may be a bit of a drive, so feel free to fall asleep,” Edge remarked, adjusting his mirrors a bit before driving off.

“You got it, bro.”

“I’m not talking to you! I need your help with the directions! The place doesn’t appear on my map apps, since it’s technically a closed business.”

“Yeah, alright. Make a left, then stay on 64 for about 10 miles.”

Asher slowly sunk into the Jaguar’s leather seats. He hadn’t realized how tired he was. The shopping trip had left him completely drained.

Asher was in the community garden; the sun was slowly coming up. Dew dotted all of the leaves, and the tulips were lazily opening, one petal at a time.

It was around the time to harvest the dandelions. Apparently humans treated them as pest plants, but they were quite a good food source, so his glen grew them. It was best to pick half while they were flowering and half afterwards.

As he reached out to them, they shrank away. Asher moved his hand closer, and the plants leaned further away. Frustrated, he reached out and snagged an apple off a tree. As he was about to put it in his mouth, he felt something wet and sticky in his palm.

The apple was decomposing rapidly in his hand, until it melted into a viscous, black sludge. Asher turned to see where he’d walked; the grass was dead in every area where he’d stepped.

“Samara! You’re ruining everything!” His mother shouted, her hands in her hair.

“Mom! I’m sorry! I----” The rot spread faster and faster, crawling up his mother’s roots.

“You ruin everything, Samara. Everything.” Her flesh rots, and her teeth fall out one by one.

Asher screamed himself awake.

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!” Edge pulled over hard, turning off the ignition. “WHAT’S HAPPENING?” His eyelights glowed intensely, and the magic of battle brewed in the air.

“I’m sorry, mom… sorry….” Asher mumbled. He was awake. It was over.

“I shoulda fuckin’ warned him about the nightmares, Boss. It was my fault.”

“No, I could have done so as well.”

Asher shook his head. “Don’t worry… I can’t remember the last good dream I had. They’ve just never been that bad.”

“Yeah… our dad never talks about his. Makes sense, though, since he doesn’t fuckin’ talk about anythin’.”

“Hmph, it is frustrating. I can tell that it’s bothering him. He has the same microexpressions as I do when I’m upset. But he just shoves it all down and acts like an asshole. That’s going to blow up in his face some day.. I hope I’m not around for that,” Edge sighed.

“So… we almost there? Sorry for scaring you.”

Edge restarted the car, and they were off. They were pretty out of the city; the interstate was mottled with wildflowers and tall grass. Large houses with acres of property made up most of the landscape.

“Yes, just one more turn off this exit and it’s the first place on the left.” They rounded the hill next to the exit and…

Jesus Christ. The house was an absolute horrorshow. It looked like the kind of place that a church would run a haunted house in to raise money for charity. How it hadn’t been condemned or demolished was beyond Asher. The shutters were slowly sliding off their windows. Some windows were missing panes altogether, covered by plywood instead. The parking lot was full of luxury cars and retrofitted antique vehicles.

“This is… a little worse than I expected, Edge.”

“I know it looks a bit haunted on the outside, but that’s simply because they don’t feel like fixing it. The inside is a lot nicer,” The captain assured him as they pulled into the lot.

He checked his phone. Goddamn it, a whole bunch of them had dipped out of lunch. Including Vanilla.

Fuming, Edge smiled at Asher. “Excuse me for one moment, Asher.”

“Easy, bro.”

“NO! THEY SAID THEY WERE COMING! WHY AM I THE ONLY ONE TAKING RESPONSIBILITY?”

Edge basically slammed his fingers into the keypad as he dialed someone Asher didn’t know.

“VANILLA! WHAT THE FUCK GIVES?!”

“What can I say? Not interested.” Looks like Edge hit the speaker button in his hurry.

“YOU COULD APOLOGIZE!”

“I’m not the one doing something wrong. You’re introducing some decomposing rando into a house of already half-functional skeletons. And now the queen wants to throw in that psycho? Count me the fuck out.”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, THAT PSYCHO.” Edge’s eyelights went out.

“Oh, you haven’t heard? He just got released from prison, and that’s what Fafriel wants to do with him. You should probably make peace with your old man before he’s wiped off the face of the earth.”

“RIGHT. AS IF YOUR FATHER IS GOING TO LEAVE HIS HOME JUST BECAUSE OF TWO NEW PEOPLE. NOT EVERYONE THROWS IN THE TOWEL WHENEVER THEY FACE ANY LEVEL OF DIFFICULTY, SANS.”

The line went quiet.

“If I have to drag my dad out of that building by force, I will. I’m not losin’ him after just getting him back.”

“OH, YOU’RE GONNA DRAG HIM OUT? HE’LL JUST TELEPORT BACK. OUR FATHERS ARE EVEN BETTER AT TAKING ON CHALLENGES THAN YOU ARE AT RUNNING AWAY FROM THEM. GOOD DAY, SANS,” Edge hung up with a wicked grin.

“Who was that?” Asher asked, wrinkling his nose.

“Vanilla. Cinn’s Tale Kingdom counterpart. We’ve both been on the Surface for the same amount of time and he hasn’t evolved or matured one bit in that time. I for one, am proud of all the progress my brother has made. Vanilla and Honey just seem to go backwards, frankly. I feel sorry for Papaya and Azure.”

“There’s no need to feel sorry for me, Edge! Sans is just going through a rough patch!” A skeleton in a suit jacket, leather elbow patches and plaid orange dress pants put his hand on Edge’s shoulder.

“NYAAAGH! DON’T DO THAT, PAPY!”

“See? You don’t like it when you’re talked about behind your back , do you?” the other chuckled. “Don’t worry! I would have dragged Sans by the ear here if I had to. Brother, come out of the car!”

A dark blue-eyed skeleton skulked out of his brother’s Ferrari.

“Coming.”

“Hello, little dryad! My name is Papaya Aster, Esquire. It is truly an honor to meet you!” He seemed so excited he could barely contain himself, pulling out a fidget spinner to burn off the extra energy.

“Go on, Papaya. It doesn’t hurt to ask,” Edge clapped him on the back.

“A-ARE YOU A HUGGER? E-excuse me, I tend to be a little too clingy sometimes!” Papaya smiled apologetically.

“Oh? Sure. Haven’t been hugged too often, but I like trying new things, hahaha.”

Papaya scooped Asher up and spun him around, before setting him down carefully, making sure he landed properly.

“Jeez. Can’t say I’ve ever been hugged with quite so much enthusiasm. Thank you, Papaya.”

“It’s no issue! If you’re ever wanting a hug, I am always ready to give!”

“Yeah, and that’s just the issue,” his brother muttered. That must be Vanilla.

“Nice to meet you,” Asher smiled, offering a hand.

Vanilla takes it. The others seemed to have expected something to happen, since they were all cringing. But nothing happened.

“Nilla’s the name. I’m one of your landlords, I guess.”

“Right,” Asher swallowed.

“Is anyone else planning on showing up?” Edge sighed, pinching his nasal bridge.

“I believe Azure is coming in. Honey’s… a little impaired at the moment.”

“You can say drunk , Papy,” Edge spat.

“I don’t want to make a bad impression!” Papyrus responded. They weren’t upset, not with each other, at least.

“Considering the unpleasantness that was the phone call with your brother, I think that we can drop all pretenses.”

A car braked hard in the parking lot. A pair of heels stuck out of the door, as well as… a riding crop?

“ESPRESSO! CORTADO! GET OUT OF THE CAR, THE TENANT IS ALREADY HERE!” He shouted, a curt rasp in his voice.Two thumbs up popped out of the windows, before two long, yellow eyed skeletons stepped out of the car. The one yelling stepped out last, needing assistance from one of his brothers to get down from their enormous Lexus GX.

The smaller seemed to be in charge, the other two trailing behind him. One of them was hunched as he walked, his hoodie dipping just a little over his eyes. Headphones sat squarely on his shoulders. The other was much dressed like his brother, walking straight, in a rather futuristic black trench.

“ESPRESSO! PICK UP THE SLACK! WE ONLY HAVE A LIMITED AMOUNT OF TIME TO ASSESS THE TENANT BEFORE YOUR THERAPY SESSION!”

The hunched one nodded, running a little to catch up with his brothers.

The two militant ones squinted at Asher hard.

“CORTADO. HIS STATS.”

Wait, Asher’s stats?! What the hell did they need those for? Were they about to fight him or something?

“Illegible. Nothing but VOID-garbled gibberish, Captain.”

“THEN GIVE ME AN ESTIMATE!”

“Uh… do I need to do something here?” Asher asked Edge.

“No. This is just… their routine. Riesling, do you intend on wasting all of lunch staring at our tenant, or will you introduce yourself like a normal person?”

“THIS IS PERFECTLY NORMAL! CORTADO, I GROW IMPATIENT.”

“DEF 50. ATK 30. HP 30/30. Soul of Justice.”

“PATHETIC! A COMPLETE AND UTTER WEAKLING! GOOD. YOU ARE OF NO THREAT TO OUR FATHER AND MAY PROCEED.”

“Al...right?” Asher wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or insulted. Maybe a little bit of both. He wasn’t a complete weakling, right?

“WE MUST WAIT FOR THE LONE COMMANDER, AS WELL AS OUR COUSIN AND HIS PATHETIC EXCUSE OF A COMPANY,” Riesling sighed.

“You know Scamp and Sliv are always late. Let’s just go inside and get this over with,” Nilla sighed deeper. Cinn gritted his teeth.

“You’se guys go on ahead. I’m gonna need a moment.”

“Fine,” Edge nodded. “Asher, would you mind staying for a moment with my brother? I would like to make sure our fathers aren’t doing anything abnormally dangerous, and set up a bit, before you enter.”

“Alright, sounds good.”

Everyone except Cinn and Asher went into the house. The door practically screeched whenever it was open and shut.

Cinn pulled out a cigar and sat on the hood of the Jaguar. “Y’ want one?”

“I can’t smoke. It’s really bad for plants. Even though I’m more rot than plant, I still don’t want to risk it,” Asher declined.

“Suit yaself.” He snapped his fingers and the tip of the cigar lit up. So he knew a little fire magic…

“.... So that was… a lot. Are you all related? Or what’s the story?”

“We’re all counterparts. It gets kinda messy. Our names started out as nicknames, but eventually we had ‘em all legally changed. Got sick of gettin’ ‘calls for Sans and Papyrus’. How was we supposed to know which pair people wanted?!” He chuckled a bit.

“But, yeah… I’m sorry yer havin’ to go through all this. I’d hoped this would be a little easier than you livin’ on yer own, but all I’ve done is complicate the shit outta your life. This one’s on me, princey.”

Asher shook his head.

“You know, it’s at least been different. I got so used to my routines with Theo that I kind of forgot what life was like outside of that. Sure, not everything’s fun, and certainly not Vanilla, but it’s been different, and in that sense, refreshing. It helps me keep my mind off… this,” he smiled, gesturing to his broken body.

“Yeah. That’s what velcro shoes an’ jackets are for. Ya look right outta Blade Runner.”

Asher’s smile grew a little bigger. “I have mixed feelings about that film, but the aesthetic is top notch.”

“Yeah…” Cinn drew in a big puff, before blowing it out in the shape of a heart. “Hehehe, I still got it.”

“Can you blow it out your eyes?” Asher had to ask.

“Hell no! Shit burns like a motherfucker. Who showed ya that?” Cinn shuddered.

“Me. Nyeh heh, didn’t mean to set the bar too high for ya, shorty,” Scamp popped in and noogied Cinn mid inhale, giving him a coughing fit and stealing his cigar.

“You sack of fuckin’ shit, you planned that!” Cinn growled. Asher could kind of tell they were playing around.

“Brother. Please. We arrived with a duty, and we must perform it.”

“DON’T TREAT IT LIKE A DUTY, TREAT IT LIKE AN ADVENTURE! WE GET TO MEET A NEW FRIEND! HOPEFULLY CRIMSON WON’T INSULT THEM SO MUCH THAT THEY LEAVE CRYING THIS TIME!” It was odd. The two voices sounded like they were from the same person, yet one of them was heavy and flat, and the other was bouncing off the walls. Eventually, Asher was able to see the two skeletons talking. They had showed up in a sporty motorbike and sidecar, removing their helmets before coming to say hello.

“Nyeh heh, you Blue’s side piece now?” Scamp joked with the quieter one. The two motorcyclists looked almost inverted. The quieter one with muted purple eyelights robotically shook Asher’s hand, before the bright-eyed one grabbed Asher’s other hand and shook it vigorously.

“HELLO! I DON’T BELIEVE WE’VE MET! MY NAME IS AZURE ASTER, AND THIS IS MY FRIEND, SLIVOVITZ ASTER!”

“Yeah, here’s my big bro. Well, big metaphorically.”

“Hardee har har. Because I’m short. Very original, brother,” Slivovitz sighed. “I would at least like to supervise Edge making the food, even if he will no longer let me assist.”

“MAYBE IF WE’RE LUCKY WE CAN SNEAK MAKING A FEW SIDE DISHES. COME ON, SLIV!” Azure grabbed Sliv’s hand and basically Naruto ran to the door.

“Well, princey, whatcha see is whatcha get. You still wanna go in that house?” Cinn checked. “Y’ can say no. I’d fuckin’ say no.”

Asher shook his head. “I’m ready. I want to give this a try.”

Without realizing it, Asher took Cinn’s hand, and they walked inside. It was lunchtime.

#fta #from the ashes #ssll inspired #ssll #undertail

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rizzizzsins-blog · 5 years

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Lights from You Spell Disaster (made by me on an old ass account)

Let’s just say I haven’t ruled out bringing him back for FtA

#you spell disaster #from the ashes #revenanttale #dusttale #i mean not exactly #they have their own story #just heavily inspired by dusttale #dust!sans

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rizzizzsins-blog · 5 years

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From the Ashes, Ch 7

Wanna read this on Archive? Click here.

Asher smelled eggs. Was Theo cooking?

“Thanks, Theo,” He mumbled, before cuddling up in bed.

“Err, I think you’re lost, princey.”

Asher squeaked, almost falling out of the bed. “Why are you sleeping with me?”

“You death gripped my jacket and wouldn’t let go,” Cinn shrugged.

“So just drop the jacket!”

“I did. Then ya grabbed my shirt.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have blamed you right away like that,” Asher apologized.

“It’s fine. If there was a weird skeleton in my bed, I’d flip my shit too. Well… technically there’s a weird dryad in my bed right now, but I’m managin’.”

“If you’re in here, is it your brother that’s cooking?”

“Yeah, he never lets me cook unless he’s out. He says it’s because my food sucks, but I know it’s ‘cause he likes cooking too much.”

Asher smiled a little. It was nice to not do the cooking today. He’d come to associate it with stress, anger, and dissatisfaction from his partner.

Ex-partner.

“Well, thanks for letting me stay the night. I’m gonna go hit up a gas station for grub.”

“You don’t need to do that. Breakfast is right here.”

“Your brother’s cooking for you and himself, not the hideous guest you brought over last night.”

“I’LL COOK FOR WHOEVER I DAMN WELL PLEASE.”

How long had his brother been sitting there? There was a smug grin on his fanged face, his leg crossed over his knee. Asher reached up and shut his dropped jaw.

“AND A GOOD MORNING TO YOU TOO, GUEST.”

“G-good morning. I’m really sorry for coming in like I did yesterday! I didn’t know I would be---”

“NONE OF--- Ah. Excuse me. Inside voice. None of that. If Cinn trusted you enough to bring you into our home, then I trust Cinn’s judgement on your character.”

Asher stood up and shook the Captain’s hand. “My name’s Asher. It’s nice to meet you. You really don’t have to cook--”

“I know I don’t. But I want to, so I will. Now, I was going to make french toast, but would you prefer something else?”

Asher’s stomach growled. He winced; it never used to be that loud. He’d never been so hungry for food in his life, even on the streets when he was going without.

“I don’t want to inconvenience you, but could you make me an omelet? Mine always look terrible and I haven’t gotten the hang of them.”

Were those stars in Edge’s eyes? They were only there for a second. Maybe Asher had imagined them.

“I’LL DO YOU ONE BETTER AND SHOW YOU HOW TO DO IT PROPERLY! FOLLOW ME!”

And he was off.

“Hehehe, you got him riled up. Hope you like cookin’ lessons,” Cinn smiled, sighing contentedly.

“I usually associate cooking with fighting,” Asher admitted. “But I want to try.”

“That’s all he needs. Now, go make an omelet, princey.”

Asher almost fell on his ass trying to reach the bedroom door. Cinn floated him his cane.

“Right…. Thanks.”

The cane was hard to get used to. It was poor quality, and he could hear it creak with every step he took. Not that he had the money to buy a new one.

“WHAT’S THE HOLDU--- OH. My apologies. I often forget that not all monsters can keep pace with the Captain of the Royal Guard, nyeh heh heh.”

“No, I should have been faster.”

“I WAS BEING IMPATIENT. IT IS ONE OF MY FEW FAULTS. PLEASE FORGIVE ME.”

Asher just nodded, trying to make this conversation go away.

“NOW THEN! THE FIRST--- the first step is prep. And it’s the most important!” Edge smiled brightly at him, showing off very pointed teeth. It was cute. Scary but cute. “What do you like best in your omelet?”

“Errr, usually just ham and cheese. Bacon if I make a little extra change that week.”

“Have you ever considered yellow curry powder?” Edge grinned.

“I hadn’t. I’m willing to give it a shot, though,” Asher agreed, surprised.

“Well. Reach in the fridge and set out the ham, and whatever cheese you like. I have a very large variety, so if you are having trouble deciding, I will be happy to assist.”

“Probably just cheddar.” Asher was a little embarrassed. Some of those individual cheeses were worth more than he made in a shift, and he was a guy of simple tastes anyway.

“Cheddar’s versatility is highly underrated. There is no shame in choosing a safe favorite,” Edge assured him. “Here. A chair so that you can cut cheese off the block without worrying about your cane.” He floated a chair over to the table so that Asher could cut. Asher thanked him and sat down.

“How much am I making? Just for myself, or are we all having omelettes now?”

“We’ll all have omelettes, and I can take my current leftovers to Honey and Azure’s house later. Also, you need the practice.”

Asher nodded and started slicing the cheese.

“No, no, you’re doing it all wrong.”

“Well, you’re not teaching me in a way that I can learn! There’s a bunch of intermediate steps that you don’t tell me about, and then you get mad when I can’t read your mind!”

“Ugh, forget it. Just make scrambled.”

“I--- we’re halfway through! I don’t wanna waste all our work.”

“You burned the fucking hollandaise! It’s already wasted.” Theo tossed off his apron. “I’m eating somewhere else.”

“ASHER, YOU’RE BLEEDING!”

“What?”

Asher’s spasms had begun again, and he’d sliced his finger open while daydreaming. Black sap, thicker than molasses, poured out of him. It smelled like blood and maple syrup. He gagged on the scent, the look of it, everything.

“Here, I’ll get the first aid kit.”

Before Asher could protest, Edge’s magic gently removed the knife from his hands, pressed his hands down to still them, and patched him up. He was very thorough, disinfecting the wound with immense care. As if anything would ever grow on Asher again.

“That should do it. Would you like to stop for now?”

“I’m eating somewhere else.”

“N-no! I want to learn.” Asher winced, waiting for pushback.

Instead, Edge gave him an impressed look. “Then let’s continue. You got some blood on the cheese, so you’ll have to start over. Do you think you can cut it without hurting yourself?”

Asher nodded, determined to keep his head in the present.

He kept having flickers of arguments in his mind, but he pushed them down and cut enough cheese off the block for every omelet.

“Excellent work. When your hands are not spasming, you have a very good touch for detail.”

Asher didn’t know what to say to that, so his head nodded, then shook.

“The ham is pre-sliced at the deli counter where I shop, so you just need to lay it out so that it’s immediately accessible.”

“I can do that.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Just don’t push yourself too hard.”

Asher’s twitching slowed down, and he was able to lay the ham out with no problems. Nice.

“Now! Do you think that you can cleanly crack some eggs?”

Asher shook his head. He didn’t want to get egg everywhere.

“Then I shall do this part, but there are handy devices that will crack an egg for you. I can purchase one for you in the future.”

Before Asher could protest, Edge moved right on.

“Now, many home cooks do not know this, but you should add just a bit of water to your egg mixture. It will make them fluffier.”

“Really? That seems counterintuitive,” Asher was surprised.

“It does, but it works.” He handed the pitcher to Asher. Asher spilled a little bit of it, but got enough water into the bowl.

“Now, I am not sure you’re within capacity to whisk by hand, so here is an electric whisk. The lowest setting should be fine… whisk until your yolks and whites are completely blended.”

Asher nodded. It took focus to hold the electric whisk, but he managed to work it out fine.

“Wonderful. I have been preheating our pan at high heat. I use copper, but you should probably use nonstick for all of your needs. Grab the stick of butter and rub the tip all over the bottom of the pan until it is completely covered; take care not to burn yourself.”

Asher nodded. The butter hissed a little upon touching the pan, but he didn’t startle and held his hands steady.

“When the butter stops foaming, the pan is ready.”

The butter stopped foaming.

“Now, add the eggs, carefully.”

“I don’t think I should.”

“Then, I shall.” Edge added the eggs.

“Let the eggs sit for a while, then scramble the loose eggs over the set ones a bit.”

He did.

“Now we can add toppings. I shall do this part.”

The ham and cheese was added.

“Now, we only need to flip one side, because the other will flip itself when we slide it onto the plate. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

It had been fun, but painfully eye-opening. What used to be a task he could do in his sleep now required his full concentration and he couldn’t chop cheese right. He couldn’t even pour water right.

“What is wrong? We still have 2 more to go.”

“I--- I’m sorry…. I’ll just get in the way ...”

Edge gently took his hand.

“Asher. I said that I would teach you how to do this. Because I am prepared to teach you, as you are, how to best make an omelet. If you need my magic to steady your hands, or you need me to do some steps, I volunteered to do it, and I want to.”

Asher didn’t know how to respond to that.

Helping him as he was.

An invalid.

Someone useless.

“Get out of your head and back to the kitchen, Ash,” Cinn grounded him, having teleported in.

Asher took a deep breath, and continued to make breakfast until everything was done.

“.... Alright… it's done." The whole thing had worked him up into a light sweat. Cooking. Had made him sweat.

"Grub time, space cadet," Cinn gently nudged him and guided him to his seat.

It was the best omelet he's ever had in his life. Edge had used three eggs for him despite his insistence that one was enough, and he could see why.

Wait, why did Edge know that? Cinn had been around the hospital, so him overhearing wasn't out of the ordinary.

"How do you already know what to do? Every step I take, you seem ready to catch me. You have an abnormal amount of knowledge about such a rare condition."

Cinn sighed. "You're a sharp one, princey. I actually wanted to talk to ya about it. My--- our dad--- has the same condition. So we've been through the motions already."

"Except he wasn't nearly as appreciative of our help and swatted at us when we tried to touch him," Edge grumbled. "I thought I was short tempered and irritable, and then I met my father."

Asher swallowed. "Estranged family?"

"Well, he and many others we know we're hurtling through the VOID, so… yes. That's about as estranged as one can get," Edge chuckled.

"Wait, there are more? Then why did Dr. Dreemurr make it seem so rare?" He asked Cinn, confused.

"Well…. Uh…. It's not as… visible on 'em as it is on you. No offense. But they like to keep it under the rug. We try an' respect their wishes, but bro and I thought it was important this time."

"When did you two talk?"

"I woke Cinn earlier and we charled while you were canoodling."

Asher's face turns darker, yet darker.

"Nyeh heh heh, worry not! I was only teasing you a bit. Anyways, my brother expressed concerns about homelessness with me, and---"

"No. I won't be a burden to you or the Royal Family."

Cinn sighed. "Had a feelin' you would say that… so we came up with somethin' else."

"Our family recently bought a… vintage--"

"Derelict," Cinn interjected.

".... Homely, very small assisted living home, repurposed from a large old mansion."

Asher opened his mouth to protest, but Edge stopped him.

"Now, we do not intend on putting the place back in business. But our father, and his colleagues, as much as they'd never admit it, are finding living there, even on their own, to be far more accessible than living with us or in a regular apartment."

Cinn sighed. "They're going to work, and doin' a little better than when they were livin' with us and our cousins, but visiting is… a bit of a nightmare?"

Edge nodded.

"Anyways, since we've noticed you despise taking something for nothing, our proposal is this: you may have a room and a study in the mansion, and your duty is to keep the house at least a little cleaner than when we last saw it… and try to keep our fathers from killing each other."

Asher paused. He'd just gotten out of a shitty roommate situation, and now they were offering him another, with a nebulous amount of roommates. But it was a mansion, not a one room studio apartment, and they were strangers, not the person who was supposed to be the love of his life.

Maybe he could make this work.

"I want to meet your cousins, make sure they're okay with it, then I want to see the grounds… and at least glimpse the people I would be living with."

"Heh, glimpse is pretty fuckin' accurate. Those guys are like mole rats. They stay in their lab if they're in a good mood, disperse to their studies once they start fightin', and occasionally remember to sleep."

"In the worst possible places, I might add. On the couch, under the couch, in the middle of the hall, in the bathroom… that is probably something you should be aware of as well."

Asher nodded.

"How soon can I meet your cousins and see the grounds? I don't want to keep infringing on your space."

"Hmm… I can ask and see if they can clear their schedules. Give me a moment.

LordEdgeLord: HELLO

LordEdgeLord: I WOULD LIKE TO FORMALLY ANNOUNCE THAT, NO THANKS TO ANY OF YOU, I HAVE LOCATED WHAT I BELIEVE TO BE A SUITABLE TENANT

Nillawafer: you sure that's a good idea?

the fight over the stolen k cups hasn't even been resolved yet

LordEdgeLord: LOOK, THERE WILL LITERALLY NEVER BE A 'GOOD TIME' FOR US TO INTRODUCE CHANGE INTO THAT HOUSE. THE TENANT IS UNDER DURESS AND I WOULD LIKE TO MOVE HIM IN QUICKLY.

Nillawafer: wait a sec

Nillawafer: is this the void accident victim? My answer's no.

LordEdgeLord: AND WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOUR ANSWER BE THE DECIDING ONE WHEN NO ONE ELSE IN THE CHAT HAS SAID ANYTHING

LordEdgeLord: WHAT WOULD PAPY SAY ABOUT YOU SPEAKING FOR HIM?

Nillawafer: you keep my little bro the fuck out of this. He doesn't need to know

PapayaSkeleton95: NEED TO KNOW ABOUT WHAT, SANS

Nillawafer: oh you piece of shit Edge

LordEdgeLord: YES. I'M TRYING TO FIND LODGING FOR A MAN WHO HAS NOTHING LEFT AND I'M THE PIECE OF SHIT.

PapayaSkeleton95: LOOK BOTH OF YOU STOP TYPING I'M READING THROUGH THE HISTORY

PapayaSkeleton95: OK I'M DONE READING

PapayaSkeleton95: YOU HAVE MY BLESSING EDGE

Nillawafer: wth paps?? You know throwing some decrepit beat up void victim into that house is just gonna make all of them feel worse

Nillawafer: the last thing we need is them getting paranoid and working harder towards a cure that doesn't exist

PapayaSkeleton95: SANS THEY WILL CONTINUE WORK ON THAT CONFOUNDED CURE NO MATTER WHAT WE DO

PapayaSkeleton95: YOU KNOW WE CANNOT HELP THEM

Nillawafer: that doesn't mean we have to make it worse

PapayaSkeleton95: WE CANNOT HELP OUR FATHERS. BUT WE CAN HELP THIS YOUNG MAN. HE'S STILL IN COLLEGE SANS, HE'S BARELY YOUNGER THAN I AM

PapayaSkeleton95: WHO KNOWS, MAYBE THIS NEW PERSON CAN ASSIST THEM IN WAYS THAT WE CANNOT

HoneyMcStickyBuns: sorry to interject but that's a lotta pressure to put on a guy who almost died. Just wanted to make that clear

PapayaSkeleton95: OH OF COURSE

I DID NOT MEAN TO INSINUATE THAT THEY WERE REQUIRED TO

HoneyMcStickyBuns: I dunno. I feel like that house is the worst place to recover. how would you feel if you were constantly surrounded by hateful old men who think you're nothing?

PapayaSkeleton95: I KNOW EXACTLY HOW THAT FEELS. I AM A LAWYER IN MY 20S SURROUNDED BY HUMANS THAT WANT TO SEE ME FAIL. I THINK YOU ARE MAKING A JUDGEMENT CALL THAT IS UP TO THE TENANT TO DECIDE FOR HIMSELF

HoneyMcStickyBuns: welp last thing I need is to get blamed for more trauma and shit going wrong so my vote's a no

L00dBerry: I VOTE YES! IF IT'S EITHER THAT OR THEM BEING ALL ALONE, THEN MAYBE OUR FATHERS WOULD BE BETTER COMPANY

HoneyMcStickyBuns: thought I told you to change your name

L00dBerry: SURE THING HoneyMcStickyBuns

Nillawafer: ok if you two are gonna keep fighting then you should log off and do it irl. We have other votes to collect

EDGE: SO FAR 3 YES AND 2 NO

Nillawafer: i counted 2

SinnamonRoll: yeah my vote's yes vanilla

Nillawafer: really Cinn? You know this is gonna end in disaster

SinnamonRoll: actually Nil, I don't

And neither do you, not really, so stop acting like you're fuckin smarter than everyone

Nillawafer: ok Cinn real convincing

SourGrapes333: MY VOTE IS MAYBE. I NEED TO MEET THEM FIRST.

Xxxprxo: agreed

Cortad0: I agree with my brothers.

Scampalicious: yes for me

Vionetta: MY FILTHY ASHTRAY BROTHER HAS SPOKEN WELL ENOUGH OF THIS PERSON THAT I WOULD LIKE TO CONCUR.

F1lmN0iR: MY BROTHER AND I SAY NO. NO ONE ELSE SHOULD HAVE TO PUT UP WITH OUR MANIPULATIVE BASTARD OF A FATHER

sMutty: yeah it's a no for me. Thanks m'Lord

LickmyIliacs: I'M ALWAYS HAPPY TO SEE OUR FATHER BRANCHING OUT.

Rosieposa: yeah poor guy really needs a new playmate

LordEdgeLord: THAT IS IN NO WAY A PART OF HIS DUTIES AND I WILL NOT HAVE YOU TELLING HIM OTHERWISE YOU DEGENERATES

Rosieposa: are you as boring in bed as you are in this chat

Rosieposa was kicked for: 1 hour

LordEdgeLord: ANYWAYS

KissMyAxe: typical of you to not even ask how we feel edgy

SugarSpiceandNice: NoW noW bRoTHER

I THinK it'S a LOVELy iDEA ESpeCIALLY FOR OUr FATHEr. He TeNDS TO selF ISOlatE JUst LiKE YOu!

KissMyAxe: my concern is the kid himself being isolated. that old man seems perfectly happy to spend the rest of eternity staring into space and hiding in his bed but this new guy might not be the same

My vote's a no

SugarSpiceandNice: YES FOR ME

LordEdgeLord: SO WE HAVE MOSTLY YESES AND A FEW MAYBES. WOULD ANY OF YOU LIKE TO MEET THE YOUNG MAN FOR LUNCH OR DINNER

Nillawafer: fine. But it's gonna be at the mansion. He deserves to see what it's really like in there.

LordEdgeLord: YES WHATEVER

Edge looked up. "They want to meet today at dinner, in the manor."

“Jeez, already? That was fast.”

“Yeah, whenever Nilla doesn’t feel like draggin’ his fuckin’ feet.”

“SANS! It’s ‘dragging his mother fucking feet.” Both brothers had a good chuckle at that.

“Well…. I don’t have anything to wear. Besides what’s on me right now.”

Edge looked at him incredulously. “Are you kidding? That’s the easiest thing to fix ever. We’re going shopping!”

“Wh--what? I don’t have shopping money!“

“Well, the King and Queen do, and I’ve already texted them. They’re not taking no for an answer this time!”

Asher sighed deeply. Maybe shopping wouldn’t hurt, not this time.

“Alright. Let’s go shopping.”

#from the ashes #fta #ssll #ssll inspired #undertail

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rizzizzsins-blog · 5 years

Text

From the Ashes, Ch. 6

Wanna read this on Archive? Click here.

Chapter Text

Asher’s hands spasmed hard, ripping the note right in half.

“Lemme see that shit. I swear to gods I’m gonna rip that bastard’s flames right outta his head,” Cinn growled, looking the note over. “Fucking hell, how selfish can he be? You were---”

“In the hospital, I know. I was there,” Asher covered his face with his hands. His body was trembling.

Hands gently took his and pulled them down.

“Hey, easy…. Breathe with me.”

“That shit never works.”

“You ain’t ever done it with me,” Cinn insisted, before pulling Asher into a hug, sitting down. Normally, Asher recoiled from touch in times like this, but he just needed to be held right now.

With his head on Cinn’s chest, he could follow the skeleton’s breathing. Usually shit saying to breathe and meditate just frustrated Asher, but was surprising how much it was helping right now.

“Your soul sounds like a drum. One of those cowhide ones,” he noted.

“Heh, thanks, I think?” Cinn shrugged.

“Sorry… I tend to hear minute differences in soul sounds. Theo always sounded like the pop of a fireplace.”

Asher sighed, before slowly getting up.

“Let’s see if there’s anything else left.”

He opened the closet. Theo took all his fucking clothes. All his sketchbooks. Everything was---was everything gone? There was something peeking out of the bottom of Theo’s closet. Asher opened it.

Panties.

He slammed it shut.

“Piece of shit! ”

“What was it?” Cinn asked.

“Look in there and find out!” Asher fumed.

Cinn opened the door. “Oh, you gotta be shittin’ me.”

“He left that there on purpose. He’s rubbing it in my goddamn face how little I meant to him.”

“Sick bastard probably thinks that leavin’ this here would show how much you “neglected” him,” Cinn corrected.

“Neglected him?” Asher paused. “The hell do you mean?”

“Guys like these? Only ever think ‘bout themselves. If he left these here, he probably thinks they’ll make ya miss him. That you neglected ‘im so much that he turned to other people. It really just means that he’s a textbook fuckin’ narcissist, though. Literally can’t step outside of his own fuckin’ ‘suffering’.”

“Bastard, bastard, bastard!” Asher’s voice cracked again, and he picked up the panties and tossed them at a wall.

“Er, ya sure you wanna touch those?”

“I don’t give a fuck right now. I’ll wear them on my goddamn head if I want.”

Cinn knew he shouldn’t laugh, but shit if that image wasn’t funny.

Asher turned to face him, and he shut his mouth. Until Asher started cracking up himself.

“Oh, man! I can’t believe I actually touched them… I think I’d rather die than wear them on my head, actually.”

“Waita sec, I think I know whose these are,” Cinn chuckled.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Lemme look at the tag.” He checked them with gravity magic, then showed Asher.

They were embroidered. Return to Scamp

“Holy shit. Gimme a second,” Asher smirked. He pulled out his phone.

Your Passenger Wants to Chat!

Accept?

Your Chat Began on __/__/____

Ash3rslash3r: hey scamp

these yours?

Ash3rslash3r sent an image.

Scampalicious: oh son of a bitch! where did you get those? been looking everyfuckinwhere

Ash3rslash3r: my partner jumped ship and left these for me to find in his closet

you want em back?

Scampalicious: look please don’t get pissed off at me. it’s business. i can’t stop guys from cheating.

Ash3rslash3r: O is that what this sounded like? Omg it is

Ash3rslash3r: I’m not mad at all Scamp I know it’s your job. I just wanted to know if he was any good.

Scampalicious: what’s the serial number on the panties?

Ash3rslash3r: There’s a fucking serial number?

Scampalicious: look these things are important pieces of equipment. I gotta keep track of em

Ash3rslash3r: That’s so strange, but true. I never thought of it that way

Ash3rslash3r: They say 345-90-446

Scampalicious: lemme check my ledger

Ash3rslash3r: you have a panty ledger. Like I see how it makes sense that you would but still

Scampalicious: Says here the last time they were worn was with an “albert theodore bunsen”

Ash3rslash3r: Lmao he gave you his full name?

Scampalicious: no I just always look through their wallet. If they don’t pay me I know their full name and license number

Ash3rslash3r: smart

Scampalicious: you gotta be to make it in the business

Ash3rslash3r: can I ask you something?

Scampalicious: as long as I get my panties back

Ash3rslash3r: Yeah of course

Ash3rslash3r: Which name did he ask you to moan

Scampalicious: holy shit how did I forget XD?? He wanted me to moan Albert I’m glad I was so high otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to keep a straight face

Ash3rslash3r: I fucking knew it! Every time he tried to pressure me into fucking him that’s what he wanted

Scampalicious: jeez… that blows

Ash3rslash3r: hehehehe

Ash3rslash3r: Anyways next time I get a ride from you I’ll give them back

Scampalicious: thanks, that shit’s expensive

Cinn was in conniptions, laughing so hard he crumpled onto the floor.

“Albert! Albert! Fuckin’ Albert!” was all he could say.

Asher couldn’t help but laugh with Cinn. His rich, growly chuckle was godsdamn contagious.

“Yep. Albert. Or Al. I’m not kidding.”

“I’m sure there’s some out there, but I can’t thinkuva less sexy name right now!”

“Right? You’d think he’d want me to call him Theo, but no. He needed his Albert fix… not that he ever got it.”

Cinn paused. “Wait, you never banged him?”

“... I tried. My body… I didn’t really like showing it or having it touched before. Now I honestly want to hide in a paper bag, but we never went past me trying and failing to blow him.”

“Wow. Never fuckin’ reciprocated, did he?”

“I didn’t really want him to… see my parts.”

“I’m sure your parts are fine, but… yeah. I don’t know ‘bout that sort of thing. At least you don’t have memories of that little shit banging ya.”

“Yeah…” Asher smiled a little. “It was always such a massive source of guilt for me… and now it’s just immensely relieving.”

“Well… what’s the game plan?” Cinn asked.

“What do you mean? I’m sleeping in here until rent is due and then I’ll hit the streets again.”

“Again? Wait, weren’t the King and Queen gonna cover for ya?”

“I can’t accept that. I… I’m not a charity case. I’ve lived on a bench before and I can do it at any time.”

Cinn shook his head, his red eyelights resolute. “Absolutely fuckin’ not.”

“What do you mean, no? You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Come on, dumbass!” Cinn barked at him. Asher recoiled a bit.

“I… I’m sorry. Look. Princey. Ya might’ve been able to survive back then, but now? ‘S not happenin’. You can’t photosynthesize, and ya can’t work either. I’m not lettin’ ya starve. Hell, I don’t even know how you’d get down the stairs tomorrow mornin’.”

Asher shrugged.

“Look. Stay at my place. Just fer tonight. Lemme find you somethin’ that won’t make you feel like a burden.”

Asher really didn’t want to accept, but the pleading look Cinn was giving him was impossible to say no to.

“F-fine. But only while I have to. And I’m paying for groceries.”

“You got you’se---- you got yourself a deal. Let’s get the fuck outta this shanty.”

“Was that a fucking you’se?”

Cinn cleared his throat. “Maybe.”

“Let’s go.”

“Heh, yeah.”

Cinn had only come out of a barfight with a friend once, and that was the first time he and Sparkby butted heads. Sparks almost bashed his head in with a chair, Cinn tried to crack Sparkby’s with his own martini shaker. The other monsters had emptied the bar, leaving them to kill each other.

After realizing that neither of them wanted to die, Cinn had floated them both a Sea Tea, and they hit it off from there. Sure, they still butted heads, but nothing like the first night they’d met.

Every scuffle at Sparkby’s since then had ended in someone else’s dust in his jacket pockets.

So when his pal had knocked the little sapling to the ground for being mouthy, Cinn didn’t know why he gave a shit. He just knew that he did. A lot. Enough to get sap in his Pontiac and drive him to the hospital. Enough to stay the night and make sure he didn’t dust in his sleep.

He wasn’t the most touchy-feely guy. He held his little bro when he needed it, and that was about that. Sure, he fucked, but it took a lot for him to show his tender side.

Something about this pissed off, wronged-by-the-world dryad made him want to show it all the time.

Even so, Cinn did his best to ignore the low buzz of his magic between his legs. Right now was literally the worst time to make any sort of moves. The little guy looked exhausted, achey, and his tremors were steadily worsening as Cinn drove them to his place.

“Look, yer tired, I can tell. Lemme carry you.”

“No, Cinn, that’s ridiculous.”

“Really? Try an’ stand up.”

His new charge grouchily accepted after almost eating shit, cane and all.

By the time they got up the elevator, Asher was already asleep. Cinn didn’t blame him; he’d had a long week.

“Bro, I’m home. Got my hands full, so wouldya mind undoin’ the locks?”

A crimson red eyelight looked through the peephole.

“HMPH, I’M NOT CONVINCED. WHAT’S SOMETHING THAT ONLY MY BROTHER WOULD KNOW?”

“That yer bein’ a fuckin’ butthead right now.”

A raspy chuckle resounded from the other side of the door, before his little bro undid all fifteen locks on their apartment. Thank goodness Vanilla owned the building. Any other landlord would have thrown a fucking fit.

“IS THAT THE VICTIM OF THE ACCIDENT? WHY HAVE YOU BROUGHT HER HERE? SHOULDN’T SHE BE IN THE HOSPITAL, CINN?” His bro sounded pissed, but that was just his voice. Cinn knew he was trying to hide his concern.

“Look, he’s tired, he don’t have nobody at home anymore, and I can explain all this shit tomorrow. I’m droppin’ him in my bed and sleeping on the couch.”

“.... FINE. BUT I EXPECT SAID EXPLANATION TOMORROW.”

“Sure thing, Boss.”

That never failed to make his little brother smile.

Before setting Asher down, Cinn used gravity magic to change the sheets. Just because he lived in filth didn’t mean the sapling deserved to. He carefully placed the dryad in bed, before tucking him in just the way Edge used to like. Asher started purring. Aw.

As he was about to leave, Asher’s hand weakly grabbed his jacket. He was definitely still asleep, but he also wasn’t letting go. Without waking him up, Cinn pulled off his prized jacket and laid it on top of Asher for extra warmth. He knew how cold Asher would get tonight. Hell, he might as well use the heated blanket while he was at it. Perfect. Maximum comfort had been achieved. His job was done, and he could go crash on the couch.

Asher reached for him again, grabbing his shirt.

“Goddamn it kid, you want me to strip fer you or something?”

Asher made a displeased sound, shifting a bit, but not letting go.

“Fine. I’ll get in. But don’t be a prude about it tomorrow mornin’.”

He shuffled in, careful not to disturb him. The dryad hung on tightly to him, purring hard.

Cinn remembered outlines for two air mattresses in the apartment. When was the last time Asher had shared a bed with his partner?

Even though he was clearly playing substitute for someone else, Cinn didn’t feel too weird about it. It was kinda peaceful, actually, the gentle gray glow of Asher’s body in the dark. His breathing sounded a little the rustle of wind through leaves.

He could get used to this.

#from the ashes #orizzinal content #ssll inspired #ssll

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rizzizzsins-blog · 5 years

Photo

I swear this is the last edit I will make to the scamp pic unless I decide to release an nsfw version

#swapfell papyrus #shagfrick #orizzinal content

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rizzizzsins-blog · 5 years

Text

From the Ashes, Ch. 5

Wanna read this on Archive? Click here.

It felt like an eternity before Dr. Dreemurr knocked.

“Asher? May I come in? I am also bringing some other Royal Family members. You may accept or refuse to see them, and it will be completely alright.”

“No, it’s okay,” he assented.

The click of dress shoes let him know she was being followed. The door opened, and two very different looking goat monsters followed in behind Dr. Dreemurr.They were a couple, with rick dark hair and mahogany eyes that watched him with unreadable expressions.

The woman introduced herself first, holding out a hand.

“How do you do? My name is Fafriel Dreemurr, and I am the current queen of the Underfell Kingdom and its peoples. It is lovely to meet you, and to be sure that you’re alright… well, alright enough.” Her language and enunciation were a little stiff, but Asher could tell she wanted to be there. He shook her hand.

“You’re meant to kiss it,” the male grumbled from back in his chair.

“Gorey, he’s not one of our subjects. He’s not required to follow such outdated protocols.”

“Hmph,” the male replied.

“Come introduce yourself, you curmudgeon.”

He sighed. “You’re right… I’m being unreasonable. Good afternoon, young dryad. I am King Fafgore of the Underfell Kingdom. I am pleased to see you talking and moving.”

“Hehe, am I supposed to kiss your hand?” Asher joked, trying to loosen him up.

There’s a beat of silence. Both women are frozen stiff.

Then raucous laughter from the man. “Oh, goodness! You certainly know how to break the ice. In all my centuries of performing as King, not once has a male monster asked if he needed to kiss my hand, even those attracted to other males. No, you do not need to kiss my hand, but you may if you feel so inclined.”

Asher elected to shake it. This seemed fine.

“Excellent. Now, let’s get down to business…. Dr. Dreemurr, if you’d explain the technicalities.”

The doctor took a deep breath, sighing with relief.

“.... Mr. Asher, you have a serious, irreversible case of VCD I and II. Void contamination disease, and its mental counterpart, Void Contamination Disorder.”

“What does that mean? I didn’t take past Intro To Monster Bio,” Asher admitted.

“It means that the concentrated VOID that the Collider lets into reality to do its work has been completely absorbed into your body. It is now inseparable from you.”

Dr. Dreemurr hands him a very outdated looking brochure.

“I apologize for the datedness of the documentation, but this has not happened in a very long time. Anyways, VOID contamination on your level has enormous consequences on your mental stability and physical functions.”

“Like what? You’re being pretty vague.”

She winced. “I’m sorry…. I just really do not wish to see you suffer, child.”

Asher swallowed. “I can take it.”

She continued. “You have lost the ability to flower. You are infertile.”

These weren’t really bad news, since Asher had never wanted children or flowers in the first place.

“You are infertile both in the sense of reproduction and in a magical sense. You can no longer grow living plants with the touch of your hand, as far as we know, and your bullet patterns… I don’t know what they’re going to look like now, but please be exceedingly careful with using your magic.”

He nodded.

“You will experience symptoms of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, memory loss, nonsensical or garbled memories, memories belonging to other people or timelines, random facts or premonitions that turn out to be true, headaches, and you are no longer photoreceptive. You will have to eat much more food than you are likely used to.”

He nodded, a little more weakly.

“Thankfully, the DTC container did not burst or puncture during the Colliding process, or we would be looking at something much worse, but I understand that this is hard news to bear…. Other symptoms include chronic pain, partial molecular and magical instability, loss of ability to heal others unless they are also contaminated, difficulty exerting your body or magic, and tremors. Considering the severity of your contamination, any of these symptoms are possible at any time. There is little we can do to mitigate these issues other than physical and psychological therapy…. I’m sorry,” Dr. Dreemurr gulped. Tears sparkled in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

“So… I’m guessing I can’t go back to work.”

Dr. Dreemurr shook her head.

“How am I supposed to make rent? Buy groceries?”

“You cannot. Not reliably.”

Asher’s breath picked up. Panic was rising through his roots.

“What am I supposed to do? Am I gonna be put away in some nursing home with a lady spoon-feeding me?!”

“Certainly not. That would be a waste of your remaining faculties, and maddening, I’m sure, for a man as young and alert as yourself,” Fafgore stopped him. “This is where my wife and I would like to come in. We have an alternative proposition for you. You can accept or revoke your consent at any time.”

Asher took deep breaths and tried to listen.

Dr. Dreemurr handed him a cup of tea, his bed manifesting a table to steady it. He couldn’t drink it. His hands almost knocked the cup over until he tucked them under his thighs.

She handed him a silly straw with a strained smile. He took it with his mouth and drank the tea in slow sips.

It did make him feel just a little better.

“We would like to, as the Royal Families, with my wife and I at the helm, offer you a lifelong trust fund and assistance. You would not be wealthy, but you would want for nothing. You could live in any assisted living facility you liked, or with an attendant, but you would retain your independence.”

“That doesn’t sound very independent.”

“It is the best we can do,” Fafgore sighed. “I know how frustrating this must be for you. A close confidant of mine underwent this many years ago.”

Asher’s lower lip trembled.

The last things he’d used to cope with life had been taken away.

“W-with all respect, your Highness…. You can’t.”

Fafgore nodded sagely. “In any case, we would like to offer you our deepest apologies for what has happened, and our assistance. This phone number is a direct line to our house. Please avoid sharing it if possible. You may contact us at any time, no matter the hour, and we will respond.” He handed Asher… a business card, amusingly enough. Asher nodded his thanks.

“Well… we would strongly recommend that you do not drive home. Do you have a ride, or would you like us to arrange for someone?” Dr. Dreemurr asked.

“I-- I can f-find someone on my app.”

“Alright. Your clothes and personal items that survived are in the cabinet over there. Please use the rails if you have difficulty walking to it, but you should have about 80% faculty in your legs or more.”

The queen of Underfell approached Asher, a slightly softer look in her harsh expression.

She took a knee on the ground, and clasped his hand tightly.

“My deepest apologies…. This should never have happened. If you decide to accept our assistance, you will be like my own child. You will want for nothing.”

Fafgore and Asher both bristled a bit at the mention of children.

“Thank you…. I need some time to think, your Highness.”

She shook her head. “Fafriel is fine, child.”

He nodded. Fafgore approached next. He gave Asher a deep bow, then kissed Asher’s hand.

“You do not need to be alone. My wife and I are not the most exciting company, but our assistance will always be available to you.”

Asher nodded again. The royal couple departed, leaving only Dr. Dreemurr.

“I apologize if they seemed a bit over-formal… that is the nature of their kingdom.”

“It’s okay,” Asher tried to smile.

“I recognize this is a bit unprofessional, but… may I hug you?”

That broke Asher. Tears rushed down his face, and he managed a yes between hitched sobs. Her fur enveloped him, and he could feel the fire of her magic imbued in her warmth.

“I c---can’t remember the last time I was held,” he whimpered. She pulled him in closer.

“I imagined… you have no family or partner listed in your records. I heard a young man demanding to see you, but he doesn’t seem much of a partner, if you’ll forgive me for saying.”

Asher just assented, trying to control his breathing.

“I j-just want us to be happy again.”

“Take on one issue at a time, my child. Just one issue, one day, one step at a time. You may want to take some time to focus on your own happiness.”

He stared up at her, terror and pain in his eyes.

“.... How?”

Dr. Dreemurr held him longer still, trying not to cry herself, before letting go.

“Here is my number as well. There is a temporary walking stick by your clothes for you to use as you need it. I hope to hear from you, but you are not obligated to an old lady like me. Please… take care of yourself.” With that, she left.

Asher wiped his tears up. They looked like muddy water in his hands. Disgusting. Every part of him was disgusting.

Even so, someone probably needed this hospital room, so he took his first shaky steps off the bed, reaching for the walking stick. It was a sickly pink. He hated it, but whenever he loosened his grip on it, his knees started to buckle, so he was stuck with it for now.

Even putting on his clothes or opening his app required several attempts, his hands spasming every time he tried to do a button or press a letter on his keyboard.

Eventually, he managed to send a message to Scamp to pick him up.

SCAMP: OFFLINE

Shit. He really didn’t want anyone else to see him like this. To pick him up and wrinkle their nose.

There was a second knock on the door.

“Hey, princey, you still in there?”

Asher hurriedly zipped up his jeans and buttoned his polo.

“Y-yeah, come inside.”

There was a snort, before the door opened. “Jesus, princey…. Let’s get you home, okay?” Cinn sighed, gently helping Asher up. It was hard to get used to the kind of tenderness that people were treating him with lately. Hopefully, gods he hoped it wasn’t pity.

Cinn moves him into the elevator, and they head down to the parking lot.

“Normally you could gimme an address and I’d port ya home, but I don’t wanna move you through spacetime in your state, so driving it is.”

He walked Asher to an ‘86 Grand Prix in nearly perfect condition, a stark contrast to the walking wreck of a Lada that Scamp drove around.

“This is certainly an upgrade.”

“From what?” Cinn sees his phone. “Aww, please don’t tell me you’ve gotten in the walkin’ spontaneous combustion hazard that is Scamp’s car.”

“I have. He’s actually my favorite driver on the app. Law-breaking as fuck, but he gives a smooth ride…. Uh, in the car! As a driver” Asher quickly corrected himself.

“So ya know about Scamp’s side gig too, huh… I highly recommend. His aftercare’s the shit.”

If Asher had been drinking anything, he would have spit it out.

“Anyways, let’s get ya nice and comfy in there.” He scooped Asher up and placed him in the front passenger seat, bundling him up with a nice blanket.

“I’m not an old lady, Cinn.”

“Believe me. Yer gonna be a lot more sensitive to the temperature from now on.”

They slowly backed out of the parking lot, and Asher gave him the address. Cinn seemed to know where he was going, until he took a wrong turn and missed an exit.

“Whoops,” he chuckled, continuing to drive.

After his fifth mistake, Asher caught on.

“You’re stalling.”

“I--err----”

“Nope. That’s all the answer I need,” Asher chuckled dryly. “What I do wanna know is why.”

Cinn sighed, then found a nice stretch of road to pull over in. The car came to a stop.

“Look, I…. I’m not tryin’ ta kidnap you or anything like that. I just…. I know it’s none of my business, but I don’t really wanna take you back to that piece of shit you live with. I know his type. He’s not gonna support you in the slightest. I know you handle his bull all the time, but if he disrespects ya again in front of me like that… I don’t know if I can handle myself.”

Asher pinched his forehead.

“Look, Cinn. You don’t know me or him that well, and even if you’re right, we can’t avoid reality forever. So stop taking the scenic infinity route and just get me to where I need to go.”

Cinn’s shoulders drooped a bit, but he agreed. The Grand Prix started up again, and they were at Asher’s apartment complex in five minutes.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, this place is a walkin’ ADA violation. Is there a fuckin’ elevator in there?”

Asher shrugged.

“What floor do ya live on?”

“9th.”

“Please. I know I’m meddlin’ too much for your taste, but let me walk you up the stairs. I don’t trust that flimsy fuckin’ cane.”

Asher finally smiled a bit. “Hehe, me neither. Maybe next paycheck I can….” he went silent. Cinn accepted the quiet, and they slowly worked their way up the stairs.

As they got on the ninth floor, no thanks to the lack of handrails, Asher’s soul started to pick up. He was finally home. His bed and coffee maker were waiting for him.

He knocked to let his partner know ahead of time that he was home. “Theo? I’m back!”

No answer.

“You wanna open the door? My keys got destroyed.”

B̴̲̙͉̂ȕ̵̞̠t̴̹͆͑͆ ̴̨͋͘n̶͇̮̹̑̒o̷̲̚b̵̨͍̲̌͋̂ȯ̸̡̯̻d̷̜̳̊̇͜y̶̞̻͊ ̷̟̫̭̑c̶̟̫̠̋a̴̩̐m̵̺͚͗͛ȩ̵̢̮͆.̵̮̋̔͠

“Theo? Theo! Look, I know you’re mad, but I really don’t have any keys.”

n̶̹̬͇̅̔o̷̗̐̄̚b̴̢̮̈́̆̚ò̶̬d̵͎̠͆̄̚y̴̖͙̝̍͝ ̷̘̈́̾͊c̵̮͂̄ͅä̸̱͍̪̚m̷̼͋e̶͍̓͝

̸̮̹̫̈͛̎ṉ̶̯ȍ̶̮̔b̶̢̪͛̃͘ȏ̸̺̞̾d̷̗̼̓̂͐y̸̢̖̒͊̋ ̴͇͒c̸̞̹̑̈́a̷̮͖͊m̸̬̮͇̐̃̈́e̵̫͗

̶̠͝n̷̪̪͌̊ō̴̱b̴̻͌ō̶̖͝d̸͍̩̔͊͝y̶̮̞̓͐̋ ̸͔c̴̳͆a̵̖̟̓̚m̵̥̻̻̃̿̈́ę̵̪̹̉͝

“I’m bustin’ the door down. This bastard has some fuckin’ nerve!” Cinn growled. “Can you stand on yer own for a minute?” Asher tested it, and nodded.

“Stand back.”

The big skeleton threw his shoulder into the door hard, busting it right off its hinges.

Air dust flew everywhere, as if it had been settling for…

Days.

“... I don’t hear anything…” Asher’s voice cracked.

“Maybe the cunt’s asleep. Let’s check it out ‘fore assuming anything.” Cinn carefully helped Asher down a couple of steps into his apartment.

It was almost completely empty.

His bed, his CRT television, his vintage coffee maker, his teapot, their minifridge, everything. Everything but dirty dishes, a note, and something crumpled up under one of the closets.

“I tell you to come home at 10 PM.

You decide my word’s worth shit to you and go to work without even stopping by.

A whole week goes by and neither you nor the hospital could be bothered to contact me.

You’re never at home, you’re never in bed, and I’m sick of you neglecting me and acting like I don’t exist, just because I tell you things that you don’t wanna hear.

Sorry, but the fire’s just not there anymore.

Theo.”

#from the ashes #orizzinal content

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rizzizzsins-blog · 5 years

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This version of W.D. Gaster belongs to @wannabuyahotcat

From a defunct account of mine.

#w d gaster #undertail #undertale #I guess this one is appropriate

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rizzizzsins-blog · 5 years

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NSFW VERSION HERE

#shagfrick #shagfrick papyrus #orizzinal content

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rizzizzsins-blog · 5 years

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(㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ) Bats… (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ) We’re bats….. (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

we’re (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ) the (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ) bats……………. (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

(㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ) we pray at night (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ) we stalk at night (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

we’re……..! (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ) the……!! (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ) bats………………!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I’M DA BIGGEST BAT THAT MAKES ALL OF DA RULES /＼ ^._.^ ／\

#rizz reblog #fursona related

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rizzizzsins-blog · 5 years

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@wannabuyahotcat This is the new Priest G!Sans canon.

BONUS -

#rizz reblog #other skeletons #the maka chop is back

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rizzizzsins-blog · 5 years

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Repeat after me: all skeletons are good skeletons

Again: all skeletons are good skeletons

Heeeere’s Inktober day 6! I’m about an hour late! WHO CARES!

Have some redesigned Zarathos… Zarathoses?

Zarathi?

#rizz reblog

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rizzizzsins-blog · 5 years

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From the Ashes, Ch. 4

Wanna read this on Archive? Click here.

“Right. Th-thank you. We’ll be on our way.” *click*

“Who was that, Fi?”

The King of Underfell hid his irritation at being woken at 3 AM. It was part and parcel of being an active king, but it was also endlessly frustrating, considering its frequency.

“Fi?” He asked. “Where are we going at this hour? Those vulture bureaucrats can wait till tomorrow.”

She slowly shook her head, hands trembling as she turned around.

The expression on his wife’s face was one he hadn’t seen since their children had died. As soon as she put the house phone down, she tossed her cell and wallet into her purse.

“Fi, it’s 3 in the morning. What happened?”

Nope. His wife was in a state of shock. She wasn’t going to tell him anything like that. Deep breaths, he reminded himself. Don’t get worked up. Don’t scare her off again.

“Fafriel. What happened.”

Nothing.

Before, he would have raised his voice until she answered him, but he knew better. A hundred years or so of separation had taught him that.

“I’ll call the babysitter.”

Beep…. Beep…. Beep……

What was that annoying beeping sound? Asher reached to turn his alarm clock off, but his arm wouldn’t move.

He wasn’t in his house.

What had happened?

All at once, the memories hit him. The excruciating pain in his body started at his arm and spread like wildfire. He involuntarily screamed and a clearly inexperienced and shaken nurse dashed in, yelling into a walkie-talkie.

“He’s alive! Oh, gods, it’s a miracle, he’s alive!”

Something was blocking his view of her face… something reflective.

The mask and the glass surrounding him told him that he’d been tanked in liquid magic to keep him stable. It really had been as horrible as his mind told him.

“Hello? Ms. Samara? Can you speak?”

He managed to croak his name.

“Asher. I’m really sorry! Can you tell me what day it is?”

“__/__/____.”

“That’s a g-good sign. I’ll be taking care of you for now… Dr. Dreemurr is in a meeting with the other Royal Families.”

Wait, Dr. Dreemurr was a queen? Jeez, being a glen monster really left him out of the loop on stuff. Considering he always saw them on the news, he really should have made the connection earlier.

His stomach flipped.

“G-gonna puke,” he managed.

“G-go ahead, Mr. Asher. The tube attached to your mask will drain it away then self clean.”

The feeling of vomit sitting against his mouth made him want to die, but the nurse hadn’t lied. It was gone in seconds.

“It’s q-quite a handy machine. If the sensors find more fluid buildup in your lungs, th-the tube will get rid of that, as well as any sap you might cough up.”

Now that Asher’s eyes were a little more in focus, he took a look at the nurse. She was a lizard monster, hunched over and anxious. He would be too, but he was too numb. Too drugged out on whatever the hospital put him on.

He felt the steady pressure of liquid painkiller osmosing through another tube suctioned to his arm. It certainly beat needles.

“How’s y-your pain level?”

“Z.”

“Th-that’s not a number.”

“I know…. Just messing with you,” Asher attempted to smile, but his muscles weren’t doing it right. He could feel it.

“I’m g-glad you’re feeling okay enough to joke. That’s always a g-good sign in a patient. Your vitals are gobbledygook, but steady, in their own off-kilter way. Dr. Dreemurr will be in soon. In the meantime, Dr. Clemm will be in to keep you company.”

Clemm? His professor? Was he tripping, or did she just say his teacher was coming into his room? “Why?”

“Oh, you didn’t know? Dr. Clemm teaches classes at your school, but he’s also a trained emergency response trauma psychiatrist and counselor. I h-hope it’s not too awkward talking to your instructor, but he’s the best guy in t-town, I promise.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Every word out of Asher’s mouth hurt his throat. His voice was deeper, phlegmy.

Knock knock. Speak of the devil.

“You can come in, Dr. Clemm.”

“Right. Would you mind opening the door for me, Alphys dear? I have my notepad and phone in my hands.”

“Oh, of course!”

She rushed to the door and pulled it open. Another skeleton? Weren’t they supposed to be rare? Why was Asher meeting one every five minutes?

“.... heh. Fancy meeting you here, Professor.”

Clemm’s already gentle features softened further at seeing Asher. He must be a right mess.

“Alphys, if you wouldn’t mind? If something goes wrong, I’ll press the button.”

“R-right. Confidentiality and all th-that.” the nurse stepped out.

“So… how’s this for more personal?” Asher chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

“You match my younger son to a tee. Always making light of the painful to spare others, I’m sure… but I shouldn’t make assumptions. Yes, Asher, this is certainly more personal than I expected. Now then, you understand your rights as a patient, yes? I cannot, and will not divulge your personal information without your consent, unless I feel that you are going to hurt yourself or someone else.”

“Thanks, yeah. I briefly went to therapy before.”

“Excellent. So… let’s talk. It can be about anything you want. It doesn’t even have to relate to what’s happening right now, but you can talk about that if you want to.”

Asher stiffened.

“...... Do you have a mirror? I want to see what’s left of me.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I’m used to not liking what I see. Just show me. No one else will do it and you know it.”

“...”

Clemm hadn’t expected to get woken at 3 in the morning, but as soon as he’d gotten the reason why, he’d packed his tools and set off in his car. He hated to admit it, but he could no longer teleport that far.

He hadn’t been given much information as to the nature of the accident, to prevent it from leaking to human media. All he knew was that it happened in the science building after hours, to a student janitor. There was a pit in his stomach that told him what had occurred; it would explain the surge in his own magic not much earlier.

There was a stirring in the VOID. And he hoped to the gods that he wouldn’t pull in to pronounce a death.

Now that student was staring him in the eye with his? Her? Dark grey eyes, their foggy white eyelights piercing into him.

He couldn’t say no. It wouldn’t be fair.

“I’ll… go get you a mirror.”

“Just take a picture and show it to me.” There was an age-old heaviness in the student’s face, as if he had lived for a hundred years. Hesitantly, Clemm took a picture with his phone. He had to retake it a couple of times, no thanks to his trembling hands. The student’s hands trembled in their restraints as well. A bad sign.

Each step towards the youth felt like a hundred miles. He really, really didn’t want to be the one to do this, but they would be more at risk if they saw themselves with no one to help them process.

It took Asher’s eyes a couple of seconds to focus onto the picture of him, and when he did, he wished he had never asked.

He was horrible.

The moss in his hair was black like broom bristles. His once vibrant yellow eyelights were a muted white, like steam, and his body looked like it’d been left in a forest fire and dipped in an oil spill at the same time. His soul was a marble of black and purple in his chest, and each beat of it hurt him to his core. He looked dead. He should be.

He wished he was.

He didn’t realize he was crying, but he felt the water dripping from his eyelids onto his face.

“I’m... horrible.”

“Nonsense… you’re----”

“I look like a fucking corpse, Professor. This is what my people look like when we’re buried in the ground. You don’t have to lie to spare my feelings…. I know the truth.”

Bingo, Clemm thought.

“Alright, I’ll have to stop you right there.”

“What?” Asher asked, confused.

“Let’s analyze that statement. You say that I don’t have to lie to spare your feelings, because you look like a corpse. But I have never seen a dryad corpse in my life, so I cannot lie to you about something I don’t have any concept of in the first place.”

“Oh… shit, you’re right.”

“Now, you know what the corpse of your kind looks like. But the truth is based on fact, and as much as your brain says your opinions are the truth, your perspective is warped by the fact that you just went through one of the most horrible events of your life.”

“That kind of helps… not much, but a little.”

Clemm beamed. “That’s what a therapist does. We’re lawyers against the angry voices in your head.”

That got a chuckle out of Asher.

“Look, Clemm, I appreciate it a lot, but I’m starting to get really sleepy.”

“You’ll be out for a couple of days. The tank is putting you to sleep so that all your magic can focus on stabilizing you. I’m glad I got to talk to you a bit before you went out,” the professor smiled. “Don’t worry too much about my class, alright? We can work something out when you’re capable of working again.”

Asher yawned, nodding. “I appreciate it, Prof. Nighty night.”

“Goodnight, Asher.”

Asher gasped himself awake.

There was some dust on his tank, but not too much. Someone put a sticky note on the front.

“When you wake up, press the call button.

-Alphys”

Would he even be able to? Remembering how much it hurt just to move his hand terrified him.

Before he knew it, his arm shakily pressed the button.

P̶̦͕̪͛̏͊r̷̬͓̯͝e̶̺̮̅̀͊s̸͖̯̈͌̄͝s̴̜͌͆̕è̴͚̪̜̱̅̒d̷͚̺̦͗̿̎̉ ̷̡̝̟̥̃̿ṱ̵̯̥̈́͌͛ḥ̵̺͔͍͂͛e̵̢̛͓͙ ̴͉̈́͊̚b̴̗̻̓̂͂͝u̶͙̣̱̬̿̒t̵͕̳̦̯͌̏͊͠t̶͕͓̞͗̕o̸̖̅͒̽ņ̷̣̠͋͝

̷͙͕͑̅̚P̵͐̔͜r̷̻͗ë̴̛͕̟́̅̾s̸͓̤͇̮͛̍̒s̶̳̹̮͙̕ę̸̛͇̲̊͑d̸̦̼̒ ̷̫̜̑͜t̸̘̿̽h̵̰͓́̈́̒͝e̶̮͊ ̶̥̥̈̐͆̅ͅb̵̲̮̀̋̎̓ṵ̵͖͂t̶͇̼́̇̀̐t̶̜̎͊o̸̰͉̖̍n̶͓͕͓͗

̶̞̼̈́̈́B̷͚̖͚̈́͗͊͗ũ̶̡̳͊t̶̼̤͙̋̊͋ ̴̯̠̗̍n̶͍̼̪͋͌ǒ̴̘b̵̯̍̓́ọ̸̅̕͝ḑ̸̲̲͋͌̎y̴̛̝̦̜̟͑́̕ ̵̯̹̂͊c̵͚͇̰̐̓ä̵̠̥́̈́̌͝m̴̹̮̺͔̈́̓͘ě̵̩̣̣͐

̵̤͈̞̲̆B̴̗̱͙͐̽̈́̽ü̶̲̝͇̇͑͘t̷͎̍̆̚ ̴̛̗̤͈͛͌n̸͕̺̱͈̔̀o̷͙̅̕b̴̛̖̒ȯ̶̙̥d̷̦͑̂͝y̸̰͐ ̸̬̓̎͠͠c̸̖̄̇͛a̵͖͇͖͚̒m̴͇̪̟̩̌͛ȅ̴̩͛͝

̴͉͓͓̀͘B̷͚̤̞́̐ṷ̶̈̈t̶̨̯̙̓̈́̌ ̷̦͚̪̓͗̃n̵̻̔̏ǒ̶̼͔̉̇b̶͓̲̕o̶̹͖͓͋͊̎d̵̗̓͌̈́́y̴̞͓̝̓̕ ̷̧͔͎̈ͅc̵̳̋̽͛͘a̴͙̥̋̎͆m̸̹̳̌̈́e̶̘̤̽͂

“A-are you alright, Asher? You’re awake a full day early. Asher? Asher? C-can you see the hand I’m waving in front of you?”

“Huh? What? Oh… hey, Alphys.”

“H-hello! I’m glad you were able to press---- move your hand! That’s a g-great sign already. I’m gonna d-drain the tank, and open the hatch. Will you t-try to sit up for me then?”

Asher managed to nod.

With a hiss, the liquid magic drained out of the tank, and the hatches opened. With some effort, he sat about halfway up before collapsing.

“Hey, that’s okay. A-anyone would have trouble after all your body’s been through.”

Alphys took hold of his shoulders.

“Let’s try it again, t-together. Ready?”

“Yeah.”

With her extra muscle, Asher managed to sit up and stay that way. The tank bent forward like a lawn chair to prop him in place.

“Your vitals are still making their own kind of sense, but you are alive, you’ve displayed 0% risks of immortality, and your body composition is…. Mostly solid. I’m gonna call in Dr. D-Dreemurr, and she’s gonna talk to you about your opt-options.”

Options? What the hell did that mean?

#undertail #underfrick #ssll inspired #ssll

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