What is your undertale au the lost souls even about
It's about what would happen if the souls who fell down before Frisk (mostly) survived and lived out their lives in the Underground.
This leads to things like the Bravery soul (Ash/Aisling) marrying the Integrity soul (Morgan), and them adopting the Kindness soul (Katie-Rose).
The Perseverance soul (Peter) is a little mad scientist, who's doing his best to break down the barrier.
The last arc I worked on had the Justice soul (Daniel) fall down. The story would be about his life, trials and tribulations before Frisk finally falls down a few years later.
But, uh... I kinda ran out of steam so it's on an indefinite hiatus until my brainrot/motivation comes back ^^;
The Monochrome Soul of a Keeper's child split in two halves, in black and white.
With their charcoal hands, our masked parent crafted vessels for these halves:
a pair of lifelike dolls, put together with porcelain, pearls and diamonds, silver, and fine silk.
And thus we were born.
The Monochrome Twins of a Single Soul. The Storytellers of the Cosmos. The ones who spread the Crimson Threads across the Realms.
We are Prophecy Lux-Nox.
We are Prophecy Nox-Lux.
We are a pair, and we are one. The narrators of Comedies and Tragedies.
For there is darkness in light, and light in darkness.
For there is deception in truths, and truth in deceptions.
We are witnesses of the History of this Cosmos, and tell the tales for those willing to hear, and those willing to find [light] in [darkness].
So come and take a seat, LightSeekers. And allow us to tell you [Their] stories...
You run a café on the edge of life and death. Souls who have been departed from their bodies temporarily, such as in comas or near-death experiences, can relax in your quaint cafe for as long as they need before they can either return to their bodies or begin their journey to the afterlife.
You don’t quite know how you got here or what you were doing before.
All you remember is that one day you awoke in a space that was entirely blank and featureless. You weren’t dead, probably. And you also probably weren’t alive either. You just ended up somehow caught up in a space between.
One thing was sure, though...
You REALLY wanted some coffee.
As soon as that thought entered your mind, a cup of steaming hot coffee appeared in your hand. You took a sip. It was... alright. Not great but not bad. It could do with some whipped cream, though. And maybe some chocolate sprinkles on top.
And, just like with the coffee, a bottle of whipped cream and a jar of chocolate sprinkles appeared near you. You took the floating items and set to work on making improvements...
---
“Hello, I hope I’m not- oh...” You look up from your cup of tea to see a young man in front of you. His icy blue eyes scans the surroundings. A gentle smile forms at the corner of his mouth. “I... see you have made yourself at home here.”
You glance at the lounge area you have made for yourself. You’re seated at a small round table, next to a wide window which has a view you remember seeing once when on a hike. The warm glow of evening streams in, even though time is irrelevant here. The passage of time, even if it is something you have to control manually, brings you peace.
“I suppose I have.” You respond, taking another sip of your tea. After a momentary pause, a plush chair poofs out of existence at the opposite end of your table. “Would you like something too?”
“Oh!” He blinks in surprise as he sits down. “Yes I would like that. I have always been very curious about- well...” He chuckles as he scratches his head. “That may be a story for another time.
What would you recommend?”
“Hmm...” You take in his features. His eyes, which seemed cold at first, now seemed pleasant and warm. You have a feeling that he’s much older than he appears.
You also have a feeling that he probably should get more sleep.
“You look like you need an espresso.”
“Oh.” He eyes the steaming cup in front of him. “It is... smaller than I thought it would be.
N-Not that there’s anything wrong with that!” You barely hold back a chuckle as he waves his hands quickly.
“Don’t judge something based on its size. That cup will be more than enough, I promise.”
“Are you sure?”
“Just take a sip and see.”
You lean back in your seat and watch as his eyes widen and he gives a small shudder.
“... You may have been right.” His voice comes out as a croak, while his leg starts bouncing up and down.
“Never underestimate the power of caffeine.”
“I never will again.”
---
“You know, I was thinking-”
“No, I still haven’t made my mind up yet.” You answer with a roll of your eyes.
“Oh, no, I wasn’t going to ask about that. You can take your time when it comes to these decisions.” The man who calls himself Pax smiles gently and pats your hand. “But actually... you are not the only person who is in this situation. A lot of people are like you out there, unable or unwilling to... change places. And, well, it might be a bit boring for them to be stuck in an empty void. So I was hoping-”
“That they could come over here?”
“Exactly!” Pax nods energetically. You consider removing the espresso he is nursing so tenderly from his hands. “You could make so many people happy here and-”
“Okay.” You give a small shrug of your shoulders.
“Wait, really? Just like that?” His eyes widen in surprise. It’s always funny to you how he sometimes seems like an excited little kid, a confused puppy, and an old man who has seen too many winters. Sometimes all within a single sentence.
“Yes, but on one condition: you work with me too.”
“... I...” His mouth falls open. “But... but I don’t know the first thing about running cafes!”
“Neither do I. We can suffer together.”
“But I kind of have another job!”
“You can work part-time, you know.” You take another sip. It’s so lovely how drinks never get cold here. At least, not unless you want them to be. “I’ll try not to intervene with your full-time job too much, just come by when I call out for you, okay?”
“Hmm...” He pursed his lips, then took a large gulp of his espresso. “Okay then.
So how do we start?”
“... I don’t know.”
---
“And I can have any flavour I want?”
“Any flavour you want.” You tell the excited child with a smile. Her eyes positively sparkle as she thinks over the possibilities.
“Oh! Then I want... a galaxy flavoured milkshake!”
“Like the chocolate bar or-”
“No, silly!” She shakes her head with much enthusiasm. “I want one that tastes like a whooole galaxy! I want to know what stars taste like!”
Wow, kids really were something else... most adults wished for a mocha latte or something like that.
You frown in concentration. Galaxies were a mix of searing heat and bitter cold. Of stardust and ice. They had the most fantastical colours to them too, with clouds of purple, blue, pink and sometimes even shades of green, yellow and red within them.
The drink ends up looking purple and shimmering, just like the stars in the night sky. You squirt some cream on top and decorate it with sprinkles, because otherwise it’s just not a milkshake at all.
“Here you go.” You hand the tall glass to the girl. “I hope you like it.”
She takes a sip. Her face falls.
“Bleh.”
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s dusty.” She pushes the glass away from her and sticks her tongue out. “And it’s too hot and too cold. I don’t like it.”
Actually, that would make a lot of sense now that you think about it.
But you don’t want the little girl to be unhappy, especially since you don’t know exactly how she got here. The fact that she’s not the first child you’ve seen here doesn’t exactly sit well with you either. Not that there’s a lot you can do to change that situation. All you can do is change how enjoyable this experience is for her.
“What did you want it to taste like?” You ask, readjusting the glass.
“For my birthday party, my parents made me a galaxy cake! It was sooo pretty - I helped pour all the icing on top and I flicked lots of stars onto it!” She beamed. “It was the bestest cake ever!”
“Well in that case, I want you to close your eyes.”
“Mhm.” She obeyed immediately.
“Close them very, very tight and imagine that taste again...”
“I am!” She screws her eyes even further shut, scrunching up her nose as she did so.
“Now try the milkshake again.” You slide it across the counter to her once more. After a moment’s hesitation, she feels around for the class and takes a sip. Instantly her eyes widen and she stares down at the glass.
“How did you do that?!?!” She whispers, her voice full of awe and reverence.
“I didn’t do anything.” You reply with a small shrug of your shoulders. “It was all you.”
---
“Something the matter, Cynthia?” You ask as you replace the hot chocolate mug next to the woman with another one. Technically you could just refill it again, but there is just something nice about making or doing things yourself. It’s why you have kettles and frothing machines, and fridges for all of the milk, cream and desserts. Sure, you don’t NEED them, but they feel nice to have anyway.
“Hmm? Oh.” The middle-aged woman is roused from her thoughts, her greying hair catching in the evening sunbeams as she turns towards you. “Never you worry, dear...” She forces a smile and pats your hand, “I’m just being silly, that’s all.”
“Cynthia...” You pull up a chair and sit beside her. If this were a real cafe, you might be scolded for shirking your responsibilities to chat to one of your first customers... but this place can run itself more or less, and at any hour since people don’t need sleep or rest here. “You know that won’t work on me. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“... Nothing gets past you, does it?” She gives a wry smile and fashions some tea and biscuits out of thin air for you too. You take a custard cream and munch in silence. “Have you ever heard voices here? From other people?”
You shake your head. You have been wondering about that too, but for all you know, you have only just been rendered unconscious. Time is irrelevant here, after all. Maybe you’re still on your way to the ambulance, even now...
“I have.” She smiles softly, though her lips wobble as she does so. “I hear them all the time. My husband Ernie. My kids Lucy, Sophia, Katie and Matthew. Even some of my grandchildren. They tell me they love me. And they miss me. And they sometimes tell me about their lives. It’s the only way I can really tell how long I’ve been... here.” Her smile fades. “I think it’s been two years. And I hear mostly happy things and loving words. But, heavens, today Ernie was in quite the state.”
“What happened?” You ask, a lump forming in your throat.
“He screamed at me.” She stares down at her cup. You fashion some tissues out of thin air and she blows her nose on them. “He told me that it’s our anniversary today and he told me to wake up. And... I know I should, and I’m trying to-”
“You don’t need to force yourself. It doesn’t matter what anyone else says.” You whisper, “Take as long as you need, or else you might end up taking the wrong exit out of here.”
“I-I know...” She sniffles, “But it’s just... oh heavens, I miss them so much. There are so many smiles and moments of laughter that I haven’t witnessed. So many birthdays and celebrations. When you reach my age, it’s those family gatherings that always mean the most to you, and the fact that I am missing so much because of... this...” She gestures vaguely at herself, “And I am probably making you worry too, aren’t I?”
“Don’t you worry about that...” You huff, before pulling her in for a hug. “Focus on yourself and your own recovery. That’s the best thing that you can do for everyone, myself included.”
“But then... I’ll leave here, won’t I?”
“And that’s good.” You smile. “This is a place to have a drink and some snacks. It’s not a place to live at forever. Sooner or later you’ll have to leave, and that’s not a bad thing at all.”
“But... it’s so nice and pleasant here.” She mumbles, stuffing her half-used tissue inside of her sleeve.
“And it will be pleasant when you reunite with your family again.” Pax gently responds as he crouches down in front of her, taking one of her hands in his. You hadn’t even heard him come back again. Not that you ever did. “You still have more of your life to live, believe me. And you will see us again sooner or later. But for now there is no rush.
I am sorry that your husband lashed out at you.”
“It’s fine, I forgive him. Times have been hard for everybody.”
“Including yourself.” He taps her gently on the head. “You’d best ask for an apology once you awaken again. Even if he didn’t mean it, you deserve better than to be screamed at.”
“He always apologises in the end.”
“So this has happened a lot?” Pax’s eyebrows narrow in concern.
“... Do you have any ideas or tricks so I can awaken sooner?”
“It’s... not really my area of expertise.” Pax mutters as he scratches his head. “But I think that what would help me would be to have a goal to work towards. Maybe an event. Something that you know is a few months away and that you can work towards day by day.”
“Hmm...” Cynthia gives a small frown as she thinks. “I want... to be up and about again by mine and Ernie’s anniversary next year. It will be our 40th anniversary and there’s no way that I will miss it.”
“Do you want me to serve you subpar drinks in the meantime, so it gives you more reason to leave?” Your smile widens as Cynthia laughs.
“That won’t be necessary, but I appreciate you wanting to help.”
“Any time.” You respond. “And you can stay in this cafe for as long or as short as you want. Just remember that.”
“... Thank you.”
---
“Is there anything else you want to do?”
“Hmm...” Luke stared at the ground, “I did hide and seek with my friends here, I ate all the peanut butter milkshakes I could and you gave me lots of piggyback rides too. I... think I’m okay now.”
“Are you ready to meet Auntie Ellie again then?” Pax asked as he took off his cafe apron and put on his black hoodie again.
“Auntie Ellie?” Luke’s eyes widened, “But... she’s... am I going to-”
“Hey, shh...” Pax pulled him in for a hug before the tears could start rolling down the boy’s face, gently rocking him back and forth as he did so. “It’s okay. How about you tell me about her?”
“She... she used to make the best pancakes in the world.” Luke reached out and hugged Pax back. “With chocolate chips inside and chopped bananas on top. Oh! And maple syrup!”
“Those sound delicious.” Pax chuckled. “Do you want to try them again?”
“Can I?” He hesitated, “But she’s been gone for so long...”
“She isn’t gone, she’s just been out of sight for now. Like all the socks and pens you lose. And she’s excited to see you again.” He gave Luke a small boop on the nose. “She told me so herself.”
“R-Really?!
... Oh, but what about Mum and Daisy?”
“You’ll see them again soon too.” Pax smiled and ruffled his hair. “Not right now, but soon.” Luke said nothing, but he gripped the man tighter. “Are you ready to go? It’s fine if you need more time, you know...”
“No, I... I’m okay now. I’ll see everyone again soon, won’t I?”
“That you will.”
“One last thing.” You managed to say, despite the lump in your throat. You held out a glass for the small boy, earning a gasp from him when he saw how large it was. “A peanut butter milkshake for the road ahead.”
“Oh wow, thank you!!!” He cheered as he took it, forsaking the straw and taking a large gulp at once. “It’s delicious! Thank you so so much!!”
“Any time.” You responded, eyeing the cream moustache he was now sporting, “Thank you for being a most honoured patron of our little cafe.”
“No problem!” He smiled contentedly and offered a sip to Pax who graciously accepted.
“You have good taste, young sir.” Pax grinned. “Now remember to say bye to everyone, okay?”
“Bye everyone! Thanks for having me!”
You gave a wave back and watched as he exited, still in Pax’s arms, through the back door of the cafe. Your eyes lingered on the two figures walking further and further away across the grassy hills illuminated by golden sunlight... until they disappeared from view.
So that was that, then...
You let out a breath you didn’t realise that you were holding in. You take the dirty dishes and cutlery and start washing up.
---
“You know that you don’t need to do that, right?” Pax asks upon returning, you glance out of the corner of your eye to see him lower his black hood again and hang it up behind the counter, next to where his apron was.
“There’s a lot of things I don’t need to do here.” You scrub at a particularly stubborn stain. “But I do them anyway.”
“Why?”
“You’ve been around humans enough by now,” You look up long enough to give him a brief smile, “So why don’t you tell me?”
“Hmm...” He leans against the counter and puts the glass you just finished cleaning onto the drying rack. “I suppose it’s for the same reason that you build sandcastles or dig holes when at the beach, even though there’s no point to either of them and the tide will just wash them away in the end. Humans like creating things, even if there is no point to them.”
“There is a point to those things - it’s to have fun.”
“And washing dishes is... fun?” He tilts his head.
“Not the process, no. But seeing a clean space afterwards feels rewarding. And it’s a good way to pass the time and occupy the mind.”
“I see...”
“Do you?”
“I think so.” He sighs as he puts on his apron. “But I could be wrong too and I don’t want you to tease me again if that’s the case so I’ll keep my reasoning to myself.”
“So what about you?” You ask as you see him struggle with tying up the apron string into a bow from behind. He was much better at doing it than he was when he started, but he still had some way to go yet. “You didn’t need to come here and help me out, so why did you?”
“Because I wanted to. And I made a promise, didn’t I?”
“Not really.” You both huff out a laugh at that. “It was more like a weakly veiled cry for help that you picked up on, since I’m pretty sure that threat didn’t affect you at all.”
“True, it didn’t...
I guess I was just curious. What kind of person would open a cafe here?”
“Someone who was bored and wanted some coffee.”
“Then you would have just produced a cup out of thin air and that would be that.” Pax gives a small wave of his arm while his other hand starts drying up the cups. “But you went well above and beyond what you needed to.”
“Is there a problem with that?”
“No- oh, you missed a spot.”
“Oh thanks.” You dip the cup back into the wash basin again.
“But you must know... you can move on to either place if you want to. You can reunite with family members and friends on earth or in the afterlife. Why stay here?”
“Well, time doesn’t matter here, does it? That’s what you’re always saying, right? It’s why you can relax here for so long even though you have billions or trillions of lives to take care of all the time.”
“I think it’s approaching the quadrillions at this point...” Pax mutters into the now clean and dry plate in his hand.
“So I think that my answer is that... as long as there are other people here who want a cup of tea or coffee... then I’ll stay here and serve them.”
“What a lovely answer...” Pax smiles. “You’re definitely an interesting person.”
“Aww, you flatter me.” You both perk up at the sound of the doorbell ringing.
You press your gun against the back of a man walking down an alley “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you and rob your corpse.” He replies “I have no reason that would satisfy you but if you take my life, you must take on my unfinished business. The bucket list is in my pocket.”
Then you pull out your own bucket list from your pocket. You show it to him with puppy eyes and he sighs and hands over his wallet. You cross 'rob a man at gunpoint' from your list.
You then both decide to finish your bucket list ideas together. You receive each other's phone numbers and discuss the details and intricacies of each item. But as you talk, both of you seem to add on more and more items to the list, but you are determined to see them through.
Years go by, the list narrows down, and you finally reach the last item on both of your lists. You admittedly didn’t meet in the best of circumstances, but strangely enough things worked out. You rejoiced together. Cried together. Howled in frustration together over the worst movies known to man.
And now it has come down to this.
You smile as you take his hand and gently slide a ring onto his finger. The gold compliments his skin beautifully. With a chuckle, both of you scratch off ‘get married’ from your respective lists.
“So what do we do now?” He asks some time later. Most of the guests have gone and now you are both standing hand in hand, admiring the way the moonlight shines upon the lake.
“Hmm?” Your warm, intoxicated brain needs a moment (or several) to register what he just said.
“Well we’ve done our bucket lists. What now?”
“Hmm...” You gulp down what is left of your champagne. “I guess right now... we just... live.”
“Whaddya mean?” He asks with a tilt of his head.
“You know... live for the sake of living. Embrace the warmth and the cold. Enjoy the good times and the bad.” You let out a hiccup. “Carpe the diem, and all that.”
“... Huh.” His gaze turns to the lake once more. The sounds of frogs hopping from the lily pads into the water is the only noise that breaks the warm silence. “That would’ve seemed unbearable before. Now? It doesn’t seem so bad.”
“Likewise.” You smile and pull him in for a hug. “There was a time where I didn’t care much either... but then you uprooted my life, like you always do. So... thank you.”
“Yeah...” With a grin he holds up his champagne glass. With a small roll of your eyes, you smile back and clink your own against it. “Thanks for everything.”
A silent Spider-Man is a terrifying Spider-Man - if he’s not cracking jokes, then it means he’s 100% focused on taking you down. You, a run-of-the-mill two-bit hoodlum, are running for your life from a Spider-Man who has not uttered a single word.
He’s gaining on you.
Moment by moment, that damn hero is drawing closer. You can hear the telltale sounds of the web shots, the creak of the web swings...
But the one thing you don’t hear are the jokes he normally cracks.
You fucked up.
You fucked up badly.
You curse under whatever breath you can manage before it’s torn out of your lungs again immediately afterwards. You’re swimming with sweat. You don’t care where your feet are taking you, so long as it’s AWAY.
And so, of course, you end up turning into a damn alleyway and in your panic-stricken mind you wonder why oh why you didn’t just move to the country with your aunt. The rent would be lower and you’d have neighbours you actually tolerate. The only reason why you didn’t do it is because you don’t like dirt.
But you just realised that you hate mortal peril a lot more.
“W-Wait...” You gasp out, jumping a little as your back hits the wall. “Just wait a sec... we can talk this through!”
He doesn’t even seem to hear you. He draws closer moment by moment.
Damn... taken out by a man dressed as a spider. How’s everyone else going to react when they hear about it?
The silence drags on and on.
“Come on... just... just say something! I know I shouldn’t’ve robbed that ATM, but-”
“You know what you’ve done.” Spiderman finally replies. You pause as you catch your breath.
You really don’t.
“I really don’t.” You say redundantly. “Was it the gun?”
“No.”
“Was it when I threw the trash can?” But that didn’t even hit him!
“No.”
“Umm...” You scratch your head. “Was it when I pushed you?”
“No!”
“... Give me something to work with here, I got nothing!”
“It was the joke!”
“The what...?” You rack your brains, which is a much easier process now that you’re at least 90% sure you won’t be killed by a guy who chooses to dress in a full-body leotard.
Things were normal. You were doing your standard minion job. Spiderman showed up, cracking jokes as he kicked your ass, as usual. And then... wait...
“Is this because I said your jokes aren’t that funny?” You realised.
“Yes!” Came Spiderman’s reply as he folded his arms and - wait - did his voice just crack?
How old was Spiderman, anyway? It was hard to tell since he never shows his face.
“I’m... sorry?” The next thing you know, you’ve been webbed to the wall. Again.
Dammit, this will take ages to wash off...
“Yeah, well...” Another shot of web covers your mouth. “It’s alright, I guess... just think before you speak, okay?”
You watch in webbed silence as Spiderman shoots a web into the air and slings away again into the night.
tysm to the lovely @loki-hargreeves and @that-sarcastic-writer for tagging me, i feel like some kind of fanfic guru after filling this out lmao. tags: @deathmotif @psychedelic-ink @eloquentreverie @eupheme @refined-by-fire @mothdruid @heartsofminds
"Stop saying 15 year olds with weird interests are cringe, they're 15" this is true however you should also stop saying adults with weird interests are cringe because who gives a shit
I want to share some wisdom from my high school art teacher.
In my AP Art class, there was a girl who was just starting to experiment with mixed media. At this point she was still playing around, trying to decide what direction she wanted to go with her portfolio. So one critique day, she brought in an abstract canvas with some rhinestone highlights and painted and real peacock feathers. She loved sparkles and peacock feathers so she thought she’d try introducing them a *little*. And after everyone had given some input, the teacher gave her his advice, VERY roughly paraphrased here:
“So here’s the thing… I do not like this style. These are just elements that do not speak to me personally, but I see that you like them, and you’re doing interesting things with them.
“My biggest critique is, I only merely *dislike* this piece. I want you to make me HATE it. Go crazy with the things that you like. Don’t hold back trying to make it palatable to people like me. Because I am NEVER going to like it. And if the audience does not like it, it should drive them crazy seeing how much YOU love it.”
Her portfolio was chock full of neon colors and glitter and rhinestones and splashes of peacock feathers and it was a delight. Our teacher despised every piece lol, but she got great marks and I think even won some awards. And more importantly, she was happy and proud of the results. Because she didn’t limit herself by trying to appeal to people who were never going to enjoy what she enjoyed.
Takeaway here: be as cringe as you want. Don’t limit yourself based on other ppl’s tastes. They’re not you, and you are incredible 💕
The Lost Souls AU (and I still sometimes do stuff) @tymki - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
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