Chapter Text
***
Fresh smiled as Nightmare looked over the two documents. One a document that meant everything to the multiverse, and one a document that meant the multiverse to Fresh.
Nightmare was glad for the excuse to avoid the unfortunate - shudders - festivities occurring in his home.
“Now then~” Lust said, grabbing Fresh’s shoulders and herding him out with a smile, “Time to get you into proper attire, young man~!”
“But I don't wanna!” Fresh bemoaned, like a Grian being told to finish the back of his base- wait, who is that- Regardless, Fresh pouted, pulling his best cute face, “Please, Papi-Lust broski?” Shades reading, ‘PLS-...?’ and even going so far as to conjure literal star shaped attacks to shine around his face.
Lust actually cackled. Cackled at his valiant attempts of deflection! The nerve!
“You’re not getting out of this one, kiddo,” Lust jumped up to catch Fresh’s neck in the crook of his elbow, proceeding to noogie him.
How dare. Fresh does the noogie. He is not the noogied! His retaliation was swift. But their powers were equal. A draw. For now.
When Error himself tossed what he had just completed knitting at Fresh, covering his face, his fate was sealed. Not like it wasn’t already, but let a guy complain, will ya?
Pulling the cloth from his skull revealed its true form. It was a rainbow striped shirt.
“N-N-N-Not a chance,” Error smirked in agreement with Lust. “For the sake of multiversal peace, p-p-p-put your baby clothes on.”
“Pfft,” Chaos giggled, not looking up from their game but clearly listening in.
“B-Baby clothes!” Fresh stepped back dramatically, gaze cast down and darkened, “Yo, you wound me deeply, windows vista. Revenge be coming for you in the form of a glitter bomb one o’ deez days.”
“Just keeping you h-h-h-humble, rainbow upchuck,” casually said, but the tell tale sweat drop spoke of his shakenness at such a devastating threat.
“For crying out loud,” Nightmare pinched the ridge of his nasal bone, “Just put the ducking shirt on.”
Fresh sighed.
“... fiiiine, Mr. Noot-Noot, broski, sir.”
Lust whooped, offering an enthusiastic high five to the serious Guardian of Negativity. It was, with great reluctance and a mighty sigh, that it was returned with minimal effort.
Nightmare sighed, “And stop with the undignified nicknames.”
“No can do, Mr. Noot Noot, broski, sir.”
Unlike Fresh’s outing with Black of the Alpha Timeline, he didn’t grab the doorframe in complete protest. He had a peace treaty to uphold after all. He left with dignity. He left with grace. He left of his own free will.
He looked himself in the mirror as he tried on his new signature outfit.
The puffy vest from Black reminiscent of Marty McFly, a striped - and criminally soft - sweater from Error, a rainbow band-aid across the nasal ridge from Asy, and the rest he made himself via commands. He truly continued to be the most colorful skeleton to his knowledge.
But he could go further.
Being as he was switching up his fit anyway, maybe he should also swap out his hat for the pink fedora he had worn in the mafia AU? Maybe not. Ooh - tye-die bucket hat! Perfect! Oh oh- and adding some lights to his wheelies could be cool, as for the pants, maybe something more skater-like. Ripped jeans with bleached splotches, chain belt, nice nice-
No wait, focus Fresh. This isn’t about fashion- it's about a statement. How was he supposed to be respected if the first thing peeps saw him as was a kid? He was the heckin Admin! Who was going to take him seriously now?
And with this thought in mind, in order to counteract the stripes, Fresh equipped a barbed wire, minorly paint-splattered baseball bat to sling across his back. One that could transform into a guitar to disguise itself in peaceful worlds or when he’s not working. Because why not.
***
(A/N: old art versus new art - the things experience teaches you. i’d say i’ve improved at least a little in the nearly 3 years since the last drawing XD
…
Now i feel old, let's forget how long i’ve been working (and not working) on this fic
Laptop touch screen non-functional this time so back to mouse drawing i go sigh - at least i had a lovely art of mine to trace- i mean base my new art on lol)
***
He took far too long putting that together.
When he got back to Nightmares office he took up residence on Nightmares spare chair, arms crossed, feet up on the desk and cheekbones puffed out. He pointedly looked at the wall. Because he couldn’t act happy about his digs, even if he knocked it out of the park.
Lust snapped over a dozen photos and left to brag about his new son.
Well … it was in the name of peace. As prices go, it was … bearable.
“Y’know, broski’s?” Fresh said with a wistful smile, “I’m glad this all be over with at least, yo. Gives us some time to chillax. Its been a long …” He starts trying to count the hours on his hands and gives up, “last few days, yo.”
Nightmare lifted Fresh’s legs with a tendril to retrieve the documents he was continuing to pretend to be busy over, deadpanning at Fresh.
“Quite.”
Looking over the documents again caused him to pause. There was a change. A small, but important change. A signature had been added.
The rest were as they were …
Vita of Life. Reaper of Death. Ink of Creation. Error of Destruction. Dream of Positivity. Nightmare of Negativity. Core of Omega Timeline. Fresh, Admin. [Penguin, Unofficial Editor - Hensforth Hacked In.]
But that one signature … the rumoured … the legend …
Hidden, Server Owner.
Nightmare closed his sockets, took a slow, cleansing breath and when he opened them … it was still there.
“Sup?”
A mysterious figure was in the room, staring just away from actually looking at anyone there. They exuded raw accidental charisma and enough awkward cringe vibes to cripple a nation- oh who am I kidding; you already know who it is. Tis I, Hidden, the Server Owner.
Sup?
The others in the room turned to the intruder. Much like Core, their presence both was and wasn’t there; impossible to recall the moment they appeared, but once noticed, was secured as factually being present. Purple jacket, brown hair, blue eyes, with ears and tail that couldn’t be distinguished between cat or dog or some combination there off, and a gender that was just as ambiguous.
Unlike when Fresh had caught a glimpse of them in Cafe Blanc et Noir, they did not wear a red hat.
Error froze, nearly looking like he had crashed with the shock.
“W-W-W-What are you doing here?”
And then did crash. Probably with all the world ending possibilities running through his skull. Hidden, with a wince, answered regardless. Surely the others would fill him in later right?
“So, Fate escaped,” Hidden said nervously, pitch and speed increasing as the sentence ran on, “She’s headed toward UnderHacked and has kind of amalgamated with the Hacker Mary Sue after she thought Fate’s imprisonment was a lore easter egg, but at least she still doesn’t have her deity access?”
Hidden flashed the group a double thumbs up, “Good luck, Admin and Co - m’k’bye-”
As if Fresh would let them disappear so suddenly this time. Especially not after that bombshell!
“DENIED, BROSKI!” Fresh shouted as he football tackled Hidden to the floor, pinning them, “Chaos! Flex tape this unrad flight risk! You still got it, right?”
Hidden’s gaze met Chaos’s over their game switch. Chaos smiled.
“Yessir~” Chaos replied, dropping their Switch, and pulling the tape out of their inventory, “Reapertale Gaster helped fix it after you broke it.”
“Wha- that was a throw away line in an Ask! Those aren’t canon!” Hidden refuted.
Chaos merely smiled on.
“... you have too much power. So thats why my electricity bill is insane-” Hidden realized.
The two OP individuals worked in a chaotic tandem to secure their target. Hidden was too fearful of what they created to protest.
It was at that moment that Lust decided to return to dote on his new son, a Classic tagging along.
Chaos with a self satisfied smirk and aiding Fresh with a captive slung over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes to transfer them to a chair, Nightmare looking to the ceiling as if pleading with it to collapse with a far to serene expression, and Error still crashed out.
And Hidden, eyes pleading fearfully to their - hopefully - saviours.
“Um,” Lust started to close the door to avoid being dragged into the insanity.
Classic merely raised an eyebrow, as nonblase as usual.
“Don’t just pretend you saw nothing!” Hidden said. Calmly of course.
Of all people, it was Nightmare who dragged the two back into the room with an extended tendril, locking the door behind him.
He didn’t say a word, but his gaze conveyed it all, ‘This is your son now, take responsibility.’ Classic was just a collateral witness, and amused at the overall situation.
“My hero,” Hidden said gratefully.
Nightmare rolled his eyelight.
“So, Fresh,” Lust asked, “Who’s your … friend?”
Fresh answered while placing them on the chair, “A radical pally I'm totes keen on not letting give me the slip on the sly again, yo.”
He crossed his arms and raised a pointed eyebrow at the figure, indicating they should stay put if they knew what was good for their extended health.
Hidden sighed in defeat.
“Are they … dangerous?” Lust asked, hesitantly.
Hidden gave a pout at the pink skeleton.
“Worse, broski,” Fresh answered gravely, “They’re…” he paused dramatically, “... in charge.”
Hidden sighed as if the weight of a world hung over their shoulders, and not the colorful skeleton child they had indirectly dumped the work on. Granted, one with OP powers, but still a child. No wait- that was Void. All Void. Yup. Right before Void went for the Metaphorical Milk.
“Where have you been all this time?” Nightmare asked, “And why will you not be staying?”
Hidden took a good look around the room. Odds of escape without repercussions?
0%
They took a slow, centering breath.
“F-”
***
(A/N: hElp- [transmission disconnected was here]
Anywho … tee-hee?
Sorry ‘bout the long wait between episodes, things are pretty unpredictable and i got caught up with things … totally wasn’t dragged into the story and am writing this in post - thats too much of a wall break, even for me)
***
“-or crying out loud …” Hidden muttered, eyes shifting, “Is the name too subtle? Does it not scream ‘introvert’ hard enough?”
Classic snorted, “more screams ‘absent parental figure.’”
Hidden gasped in offense. That was Void's role!
“In charge … of what?” Lust asked Fresh for clarity.
He couldn’t possibly mean-
“In charge of the radical slice of existence known as the multiverse, Lust-Papi, bro,” Fresh gave jazz hands in their direction to highlight the introduction, “And I got some questions I wanna take up with the management, yo.”
<Higher Management is Management. Hidden is Server Owner.> The system said in a pop up only visible to those who can see code.
The correction was vital to the system's priorities for some reason.
“That ain’t what I meant, HM-bro.” Fresh responded.
Queue awkward laughter on Hidden’s part.
Lust looked around the room to see the others confirm the revelation with nods or winces.
Hidden sighed, as Chaos continued to flex-tape them to the chair. Just as the level of restraints were about to reach the level of ‘cacoon’ hidden finally protested.
“Oi,” Hidden narrowed their eyes at Chaos, “Don’t use it all,” they then muttered under their breath, “No wonder there’s such a shortage.”
Chaos paused, looked them in the eye, then created a bow out of the last of the tape and slapped it to their forehead.
“Make me~” Chaos dared.
Giving a squinty look from under the ribbons of tape that was probably meant to be intimidating but fell short, Hidden replied, “... tempting. I could, y’know. Debates about the nature of free will have already been brought up by the deities. Do we test it?”
Chaos decided to go back to their Switch with an eyeroll. They returned with it an- oh my god it was now a switch-blade. Hidden didn’t even know it could do that.
“Do we?” Chaos echoed.
Hidden contemplated. They changed the subject.
“With the flex tape shortage,” Hidden said, “it's no wonder Fate could amalgamate with a Hacker. Stupid, silly thin wall.”
Chaos said nothing, the blade still in Hidden's face.
Their eyes locked with a pair of eyelights not too far away.
“Classic … help.”
They called for help.
Classic pulled a newspaper out of his pocket and pretended to browse, “wonder if they got any good crosswords or comics today … oh penguin was here…”
Help was more interested in other things.
“... traitor,” they pouted - ahem - frowned at the skeleton.
Classic ignored them. Serves them right for not erasing his memory with the Multiversal Reset they did. Sure, the last timeline was literally collapsing so it’s a net positive, but it's the principle of it. No one should have all that power. Though at least they sent a note so he didn’t think he was crazy. Weirdest pen pal he’s ever had, including the timeline where he replied to a message on a fishing pole.
Fresh crossed his arms looking down at Hidden, sunglasses blank. “... i have a few choice words for ya, broski.”
Hidden nodded defeatedly, pretending there was no way out of this.
“What d’ya wanna know?”
“First things first, broski, the big question,” Fresh said, “Why ain’t you being a team player and helping with fixin up this rad multiverse, yo?”
All eyes on the literal Owner of the Multiverse.
“Its simple really …”