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Crossed Unders in a Strip Club	By : Revharem Category: -Misc Video Games/RPGs > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 1461 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own, nor make money off of Undertale, Underswap, Underfell, Dreamtale, Underlust, Creationtale, Alchemytale, Instincttale, or X-tale, nor any of the characters depicted. This is purely for entertainment.

Chapter List
- 4
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- 6
(Unknown years prior to the present)
In a universe that was all light colors and smiles, everything was very different. This was an underground out of a fantasy book. The monsters had come together and built a huge castle. The Sans of this verse, Mi’lord, had a twin brother, Jester, and his younger taller brother, Sir Knight. King Asgore Dreamur and his gorgeous Queen Toriel ruled justly and fairly. Lies were never told and somehow, everyone was always happy. The king would often go down into the other parts of the kingdom to visit with his subjects, learning each of their names, personalities, and families. They were never bothered by the fact that they were trapped underground because they were happy with those who were around them.
When the first child fell, monsters were infatuated with her. The entire population adopted and helped care for her and made her feel welcome. She became like a princess and quickly was taken in by the King and Queen, and their son, Asriel. She never had a care or worry in the world.
One day however, shortly after the child was taken in by the royals, she asked if she could see Jester perform. She had heard fantasy stories when she lived above, and colorful jesters had always been a source of amazement for her, but when she looked upon him, she quickly hid her face in Queen Toriel’s dress, crying in fear.
Jester, while being Mi’lord’s twin, looked nothing like his regal brother. Mi’lord was a pearly white skeleton of short stature, and often wore pale blue robes or tunics. He always had a pale silver worked gold circlet upon his head, marking him as one who held significant status among the royals. He was charismatic and beautiful.
Jester on the other hand, had bones that were blacker than a shadow on a moonless night. His eyelights were mismatched, the right one was a floating white iris without sheen. It looked dead for all that it moved and acted like a normal eye. The left was an iris of neon blue, and contrasted harshly against his bones. When he grinned, his teeth where stark white, the only part of him that matched his brother and seemed untainted. He was not pretty to look at. In fact, many shuddered to just be within his presence, through no fault of his own. It was only his relation to Sans that afforded him a place within the castle at all. His relation, and the King’s great pity.
The child’s fear, while not unexpected, still hurt Jester, but when bid by the queen to make his departure, he didn’t let any see his sorrow and merely bowed and left quietly. Jester watched her from afar, hoping one day she may come to not fear him and possibly even befriend him as none below ground ever could, but it was not to be.
As the child grew to be a young woman, she began to want a life more realistic. She remembered where she came from, never having forgotten, and wanted to go back. She feared asking her adoptive family. She didn’t want to hurt their feelings after they had cared for her so well and treated her so wonderfully. In the end, she came across Jester, who longing for any interaction with anyone, was more than pleased to show her the way to the barrier and the exit. In this world, it wasn’t guarded, but it was a small distance from any inhabited part of the underground.
Once there, Jester explained about the barrier and how it kept them all underground. He also explained how it could be broken or weakened. He had sneaked peaks at the royal scientist’s work many times, and had taught himself how to understand it all. If Dr. Gaster had written it, Jester had read it. Once he finished explaining, he asked if she was still sure she wanted to leave. It was a one-way path after all. After looking over her shoulder, she squared her shoulders and said she did. Then Jester asked one more question, one he didn’t think would be asking much of the girl at all. Would she mind using the strength of her soul to help weaken the barrier? It wouldn’t hurt or hinder her at all, but if she wanted to, she could put her will of freeing the monsters into the barrier using the resonance of her soul.
That was when things took a turn for the worse. Jester had made it clear he wanted out so he could find a friend. Upon asking for assistance on getting out, the woman, no longer a child, shot him down with a look of disgust on her face, saying that nobody would ever want to be close to someone like him. A hideous monster, she called him. She never called any of the others monsters, they were people. He was an abomination, a monster, unlikeable and unlovable.
In a fit of anger at the unfairness that had been dealt him, Jester used his magic, which until this point had lain dormant, and implanted a vision of pure terror and anguish in the woman. She collapse on the spot, only seeing the vison that played in her mind. Jester dragged her limp body back to the castle, somehow sure the King would appreciate that he had foiled the attempted escape of the girl and the chance of release she represented.
When the king saw the state the woman was in though. He had only concern for her and disappointment and anger for Jester. He demanded that the vision be removed and to make up for the treatment she had been given, threw a grand banquet to honor the memories that had been made since she first fell. Everyone was sad to see her go, but none stopped her and the Royals actually escorted her to the barrier and let her go without even asking for her to weaken the barrier. A complete waste of a human soul!
Jester was angry, but bided his time. One soul wasn’t enough to break the barrier anyway, so what did it matter. Years passed and the monsters never lost their joviality. Jester eventually calmed down and resumed his role of the jester who never appeared and all was as it used to be. Another child fell, a boy, and the process repeated.
This time though, instead of taking him to the barrier when he expressed his wish to leave to him, Jester immediately reported him to the King thinking that maybe it was his treatment of the last that had caused the king to go easy on her. He tried to explain the science and reason behind why the souls of humans were important to bringing down the barrier to the King and Queen both, but he was brushed aside. What would a jest-less jester know of such things anyway? Leave the thinking to the Royal Scientist was the response he received. Once again the child was released a man who grew up in a fantasy realm and everyone eventually slid back into their roles without the human.
When the third human fell though, things changed drastically. This time it was a girl again. Everything was following the routes of the first fallen child. Jester took her out to the barrier and explained things to her even. The rebuttal was even worse than the first though. She told him, “If humans wanted the monsters to return, they would have broken the barrier by now. It’s the existence of monsters like you that keep you down here.” At first, Jester was horrified. It was his fault that no human wanted the barrier broken? But then he grew angry, how was it fair that he be the one judged. This time he didn’t just scare the woman. For her words, actions, and disregard to how he felt, he slew her before he knew what was happening.
With her now broken and lifeless body laying at his feet, and her soul in his palm, he felt a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe this one soul would weaken the barrier temporarily enough to let him pass. He applied the soul and immediately felt the difference in the air and the barrier. He reached out and put his hand to the barrier, to try and push through, only to be thrown back against a tree. The impact knocked him unconscious for some time.
When he came to, he could hear voices coming up the path and looking around, there was no way to mask the horror that had been committed. Jester did the only thing he could think of doing. He ran. Deep into the woods that had somehow flourished around the habited areas. Deeper than he thought anybody would ever go. The soul hadn’t worked and now he was a murderer of a woman the entire world loved. He would never be accepted back now. And so, Jester disappeared from civilization.
The King and Queen, who had been coming up the road with a few Dogi royal guards found the body. The guards confirmed the last scents in the area were from Jester, but the King told them to let him go. Knowing his sin was punishment enough. They buried her in the royal gardens that were open to the public so everyone could visit her grave whenever they felt they were ready or wanted to talk to her. For a long time, everyone grieved, but like things always did, everything eventually went back to normal.
Almost everything that is. Deep in the woods, once he had calmed down, the once known jester began to realize just how much he was to be punished for his sin. How he hadn’t noticed earlier, he didn’t know, but the barrier must have worked some magic against him for his work against the soul that had weakened it. He now had four new appendages. They weren’t arms, like what Spymaster had, or legs that would make him more like a bug monster. No, they were something that didn’t compliment his structure at all, making him even more terrifying than before. Out of his lower lumbar vertebrae now grew two pairs of what could only be described as tentacles. Their color matched that of his bones, and they were slick, as if covered in a mucus of sorts so they felt almost wet to the touch. He could control them much like he did his arms, individually or together, to move however he wished. They could grow to wrap him as if in a cocoon, or shrink so they were the same length as his own height. He couldn’t get them to shrink any smaller than that. They couldn’t be hidden.
As time passed, he got more used to the new parts of himself until it was like second nature to depend on them like he did the arms and legs he was born with. Learning to live in the woods was a much harder feat, but he got lucky and found a grove of long forgotten fruit trees, likely the remainder of when they had first been locked down in this hole. He found a ruin nearby as well, and that became his home. Living by himself with only the trees to talk to, he grew content. They didn’t judge him, and he didn’t judge them. Some were pretty, some were not, but he kept them all and took care of them whether they needed it or not. Things would be this way for a long time.
Years passed, humans came, grew, and went. Very few left some soul to break the barrier. They now only needed four more souls to join their cause, but the monsters were in no rush, and honestly didn’t think about it much at all. The more they heard about the surface, the less they wanted to go there. It was saturated with lies and false pretenses. Here, they were happy, and true to themselves. There was no need to go to the surface.
One day, while Asgore was on one of his walks through the woods on his own, he found himself in a part of the forest he didn’t recognize. After walking these woods for centuries, he thought he knew them by heart, but there was a minute chance he had not seen them all, he supposed. A grove of well-tended fruit trees heavy with harvest, and a small stone and wood hut out in the woods. It was quaint, curious and cute. What disturbed him though, was the area beyond the hut was dark. Plants withered in varying states of dying or just out-right dead. No Froggits sounded in this part of the wood, no Tsudereplanes could be heard overhead. Listening, the king realized there were no sounds at all.
“Someone’s far from the castle” came a voice behind him. A voice that dripped oily and made his teeth grind. It caused chills to go down his spine and the fur on the nape of his neck to stand up. It wasn’t evil, but it wasn’t good. It was just terrifying.
“Jester? Is this where you live now? What is happening here?” at first the King couldn’t believe that the horrifying brother of Mi’lord had disappeared from his thoughts for so long. The voice brought everything back though. “And why, why did you do it?” he whispered.
“Jester? Haven’t heard that name in a while.” Mused the cool, quiet voice. He said nothing more, apparently not feeling he needed to say anything, or just too lost in recollection of how times were when he went by that name. Now he needed no name, so had none.
“Why did you kill Morgiana?” Pressed the king.
“Hmm, the girl? She scorned me, just like the rest of you all did. She had the ability to help set us free and chose to not use it after all we did for her, so I took her power from her and used it myself. Payed for it too, but I don’t really mind that so much now.” He mused.
Asgore could almost visualize him shrugging. “But why do you want the surface so badly. Is down here so terrible?” the king cried, trying to understand why someone would stoop to murder to get what they want.
“It wasn’t the surface I wanted, Dreamur, it was acceptance. Nobody down here can accept me, so I wanted to try my luck up there. She made it clear what a pipedream that was though. Heh.” He laughed at his own pun, making the king flinch at the wet, choking sound. It was nothing like a laugh, more like a last attempt to breathe through a liquid filled airway.
“I can understand why you’d want to go to the surface Jester, but why did she have to die?” He just couldn’t drop it.
“She had to die for her arrogance. She believed she was so much better than us just because she was able to leave. She deserved it!” snarled the black skeleton. He swung from his branch behind the king through the branches of those around him until he was directly in front of him and then dropped to the ground. Where his feet and the hand he’d landed on touched the ground, the grass withered and died as he straightened and stood to face the king, meeting his eyes and daring him to look away from what he had become. The higher set of his tentacles arced slightly over his shoulders while the lower set reached around his hips under his elbows and just rested, suspended. It was like having his arms hang down for them to set like this, comfortable and natural. His arms were crossed in front of his chest, mismatched eyes watching the king’s face as he took in the changes.
Finally he spoke. “Looks like you found your true self.” He sounded almost sorry. “You are truly a nightmare, not something one wants to see in a dream.” Asgore sighed as he slowly looked away.
“Nightmare, that’s fitting, but anyway, that’s why I stay out here. Why go where you’re not wanted I figure. You live by the same rule. You don’t press for the surface because the humans honestly don’t want you there, so you hide down here. I’m not wanted in either place, so I stay where nobody will look for me or see me.” Responded the dark skeleton, newly named Nightmare.
“But you can be found. I found you. That’s why this must be done. For the good of all.” The king scarcely more than muttered.
Nightmare realized too late what the king was going to do. Even as he realized, he opened a small jump gate, planning on jumping to another part of the woods just to escape, but part way through the king’s attack hit. When he opened his eyes, Nightmare saw nothing. He neither, heard, smelled, felt, or even tasted anything in the air. He was nowhere. This was his nightmare. To be where nothing could reach him and he could reach no one. There was no acceptance, nor distaste. This was void. There was nothing. He tried opening portals, but couldn’t tell if they worked. His portals only took him to another part of the world he was in, but he was no longer in a world, so was he even doing anything.
He didn’t know how long he floated before he started hearing voices. He could hear his brothers, the queen, the king, all of them, but they never quite sounded right. Sometimes they would be saying things, or talking in ways that as he knew them, they never would. One time he heard the queen crying. She was lamenting the death of a child, saying the king and killed another child and why couldn’t he stop? When he tried to listen closer, the voice faded away entirely.
One day however, a blinding slash of light broke through the nothing, searing Nightmare’s eyes. When his eyes finally did adjust, he couldn’t believe what he saw. Now not only one cut of light in his void, but many. Too many to count. And each slash of light cut an opening in a globe of swirling color. Had he been surrounded by this the whole time? Willing himself toward a pale blue sphere, he hesitantly wiped a palm over its surprisingly surface, still unable to feel anything, and like sweeping away clouds, he saw the landscape of Dreamtale. His home was under his palm, a globe of light barely larger than his ribcage in a giant void surrounded by other globes. Willing himself toward another, he wiped it the same as he had for his, and found a world full of dust. He saw a strange looking skeleton that vaguely resembled his smaller brother, but his head was broken in. He crept closer to a crying girl who sat in the snow, probably cold, and then raised a hatchet. Nightmare’s eyes went wide as the weapon fell in a spray of red. The skeleton looked highly amused but Nightmare felt sick. He would have to be careful about these globes it seemed.
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Crossed Unders in a Strip Club