#love to put my ocs in an au

[starstruckodysseys]

you and me and the worlds in between

(or: ash has been nineteen a while. mia has been nineteen before, and she will be again, and again, and again.)

The end of the world comes in waves, because a single, all encompassing ending would be too satisfying.

Ash floats over the Atlantic Ocean, racing circles around a statue-esque Mia, whose dark hair flows in the wind the debris brings with it. Her perfect, dark skin is marred by ash - actual ash, not Ashleigh Schneider, who can only hope to touch her in such a way - and the bags under her eyes are such a deep purple they almost look black. She stares, unblinking, at the ocean before them, the water drying up and rocks falling around them, like mini meteors. They’re not strong enough to be anything terrifying, just a more concussive form of hail.

Ash has been nineteen a long time, long enough to have seen this play out before. They’ve watched empires fall and cities crumble to dust and the earth itself end and start back up again, like a movie being put on fast forward. It still leaves a bitter, coppery taste in their mouth every time.

They pause their gentle flapping to settle down next to Mia, and though she hardly spares them a glance, she brushes her hand against theirs, tilts her head toward them in silent acknowledgment. Ash has grown past the need for recognition, reciprocation. They’re content to sit in silence, to watch the world fall around them. It’s a strange place for a first date. Lucky them it isn’t their first.

Mia has been nineteen before, and she’ll be nineteen again, and again, and again. Ash has seen this before, too, watched the cycle repeat and repeat like a skipping CD player. They harness the weight of the world on their back and grin like it’s the first time they’ve been here.

Mia winces as a particularly large piece of rock crumbles down into the ocean. What's left of it, at least. She drags the toe of her boot across the dampened sand, drawing meaningless little lines in the grains.

“How come you chose to come out here?” She asks. There’s no judgment in her tone, only a monotone sort of curiosity.

Ash shrugs. “I wanted to see if it was still here, I guess.”

Here is a rotting, abandoned old beach house, one their parents used to own centuries ago. It hasn’t been kept up with - there’s mold in most of the closet corners, a bird’s nest in the rafters of the open living room, decaying blankets strung across clotheslines that can hardly hold their weight anymore. But it’s theirs, in a sense. The only rock they’ve had in their eternal life.

They don’t know why they’d asked Mia to come with them, though it’s not as if she’s any safer at home than with them. To be fair, her “home” is an empty apartment with a dad who hardly recognizes his daughter, and they don’t even know if it’s still standing. It might be better for her if it weren’t.

Another rock falls down, this one leaving a burnt out crater in the ground, scorch marks visible in its wake. Ash leans over, brushes a piece of dust off of Mia’s denim jacket, and stands up, dusting off their own ratty jeans. She looks up at them, finally, blue eyes meeting green.

“We should go,” they say by way of explanation. “It’s not- I don’t think it’s safe here.”

It’s not safe anywhere, and they both know that. Mia still takes their hand, and the only thing Ash notices as she uses it is leverage is how warm her palm is in theirs. She doesn’t pull away once she’s standing up. Ash isn’t quite sure what to do about it.

They swallow. “You ever wanted to see Pompeii?”

“I mean,” Mia hesitates. “Sure? I thought it was destroyed, though?”

“So is everything else,” Ash says with a shrug. “Are you coming or not?”

It’s a rhetorical question more than anything, because they already know the answer. Mia scoffs out a laugh, some semblance of a smile on her face, and Ash bites their cheek to stifle a grin.

For some odd reason, her hand is still in theirs. That’s alright, it just makes it easier for them to fly her away, up and over crumbling cities and fallen communities, evaporated oceans and broken bridges. The world sits in disarray, suspended in discord, dissonant tones coming together to create disaster. It’s almost beautiful, in a horrible sort of way. Ash has seen creation form in the rubble of chaos enough times to stop worrying about how they get there. They quite literally cannot die - you stop worrying about a lot of things once that happens.

Their hair, dark brown and matted and barely held back anymore by their headband, flows freely behind them. Mia manages to look as elegant as ever, even thousands of feet off the ground. She glances over to them, smiles faintly and fondly, and Ash feels the familiar sensation of their stomach swooping to the point it feels like they’re falling.

Mia’s life is tragedy in B minor - Elle had told them about music terms once, decades ago, huddled together on a piano bench in an era where their love was frowned upon, giggling like the schoolgirls walking down the sidewalk outside the speakeasy. It had been one of the first times Ash had met her. They’ve met countless variations now, of course, Janie and Lizbet and Allison and Ginny and Lila and hundreds upon thousands of others. She’s been nineteen a while. She doesn’t usually get very far past that.

She never remembers them. They’ve stopped expecting her to.

Pompeii is beautiful in a way that maybe only Ash can appreciate. After the second time you watch the world end, it kind of gets predictable, repetitious, redundant. So they’ve begun to pay attention to the details, focus on the smaller picture while they still can. It’ll be there, in some version, when they begin again, but for now they have a girl in her final hours beside them and they’ll be damned if they don’t make the time count.

They lead her down cobblestone pathways, through arches and columns overgrown with moss, to sit at the water’s edge. It’s more peaceful than the ocean, rippling calmly around them. The sun shines down on them, warm and comforting, almost like a blanket. For now, they’re content to sit in this peaceful moment. Mia leans her head on Ash’s shoulder, and they stare out at the volcano looming in front of them and ignore the sheen of tears that clouds their vision, internally blaming it on their glasses and heat flow and a million other things that aren’t the case.

Naturally, this is when the volcano erupts.

The sky turns blood red, which feels a little too on the nose for Ash’s liking. They don’t get to focus on that for very long, though, because smoke and ash fill the air, quickly followed by lava, boiling hot and angry. Ash can’t tell if it’s the smoke or the sulfur stench burning their lungs as they stand up as fast as possible. Mia moves to follow them, but she’s only human and can hardly move as fast as they can. They reach behind them to grab her.

They’ve never been fast enough to save her before. Why should they start now?

Her hands graze theirs for hardly a second, but when they turn around she’s lost to the haze surrounding them, caught in the sea of ash - actual ash, again, because Ashleigh’s never been the one to catch her. They’ve tried, of course, but nature has a plan and when there’s a will there’s a way, so they’ve learned what is meant to happen and done their best to prevent it every time, yet to no avail. They don’t know why they keep trying.

Yes, they do, and their reason is a girl who builds walls around her that only Ash has ever tried to knock down, who acts like she never cares until someone actually asks, who has lived and lived and lived and still manages to draw the short end of the stick every time. She’s one of the only things that’s remained consistent in their long life. They wonder if she knows that, sometimes, when she gets a certain kind of glimmer in her eye when she looks at them.

As they frantically float their way through the clouds of smoke, likely burning their lungs, but they’ve dealt with worse, they eventually catch up to the coughing and choking ahead of them. A moth drawn to a flame; they always have been, always hyper aware of her presence.

“Mia?” They call out hesitantly.

“Ash,” Mia chokes out, and when the smoke clears she’s crawling on her forearms toward them, her legs dragging behind her. “Ashleigh! I-” she coughs, “I lo-

“I know,” Ash soothes, because they’ve seen this film a thousand times. A lump forms in the back of their throat as they float down next to her. “I know.”

The funny thing about loss is that it never really gets easier the more it happens.

Two days after Ash turned nineteen, they fell ill. Deathly ill, everyone said, the healers and the scientists and even the gods, according to their parents. It led to them being bedridden for days that turned to weeks that turned to months. They’d accepted that they were going to die, in all honesty. So had Austin, yet he refused to leave their side anyway.

They couldn’t leave him alone, he said, though the tears clogged his throat so much they could hardly make out the words. They’re his other half, the one to understand him in the huge, cruel world.

Ash had squeezed his hand and apologized and danced around the words stuck behind their teeth.

They’d been more sure of dying than anything else in their life, which is why it had been such a shock when their mother came home, one day, a vial of pale red liquid in her hand. Drink, she’d said, and they had. Why shouldn’t they? Nothing else had worked, yes, and they had lost hope months ago, but their mother and their brother looked at them with hopeful, pleading eyes, and so they sipped the whole thing until it was gone.

To no one’s surprise - or at least, not their own, though they’re sure everyone else was less shocked and more hopeless by this point - nothing happened, the same as everything else they’d tried. But they slowly started to feel better, if better could mean not actively dying, and through some miracle, Ash had lived.

…And lived. And lived. And just kept on living, somehow, and it wasn’t until Austin was getting into his thirties - they’d always had good genes - that he noticed the two of them weren’t mirror images of each other anymore. Ash had felt older, but when they looked in the mirror they hadn’t changed a bit, not a wrinkle or graying hair in sight.

Their mother had unfortunately been gone for years by that point, but their father was still around to explain the potion of immortality she had been instructed to give to Ash.

It had been great, at first, not having to worry about dying - from old age, at least, because the thing they don’t tell you about immortality is that it doesn’t make you invulnerable. But then they’d sat by and watched as everyone they’d ever loved died practically before their eyes. Their mother, of course, was first, and then their father, and then, in a moment they try to forget as much as they try to remember, because it was their last with him, Austin. A piece of them died, that day, because he truly had been their other half, their rock in the storming ocean of life.

They’d found Mia - Eve, at the time - near the river in town, years and years down the line. It wasn’t love at first sight, but her long skirt billowed in the wind and her long, dark hair flowed behind her, and Ash had felt a certain kind of magnetic pull they couldn’t ignore.

It was the first time they’d met, but it certainly wasn’t the last. The world had ended and restarted over and over, but they kept finding their way back to one another, as if they were tied by some sort of string of fate. And, through it all, Ash kept on falling in love, helpless to the whims of whatever powers rested above them.

They’ve lost her countless times - she only stays nineteen for so long, after all. Maybe this time, though, they don’t have to.

Ash reaches out a hand toward the girl they swore their life to years ago, a smile on their face.

[momoiro-hime]

putting my ocs in every AU i want part. 34791

| Do NOT repost or use without permission.

[duty-calls-for-booty]

PSA to all CoD writers

[miss-conner3]

En Español: Aquí

This was going to reference a sibling dynamic meme, but I got too excited XD

Brief context: Height difference in a future where Ando becomes a wandering traveler and the lamb digivolves until it reaches its maximum potential.

Or something similar to that, hehe (ouo)

I hope you like it!

Extra: A little idea regarding my two sheep!

"Forever is a long time, little lamb..."

This is the moment where I comment that I like light angst, but it's rare that I prioritize it, so don't worry (?)

[itty-bitty-sunshine]

Heard it was international father's day, so of course I had to draw the father & daughter duo of all time

[kingzombear]

zombear can we have more infected (or non) ponies from you

Embarrassed to say even tho I promised I'd do a follow-up to my og MLP Infection AU I was like

"What If My Old Cringe Pony Ocs Were A Zombie Survival Team"

Sooo oops this is all I've got rn lol

Prism Leech is an escaped doctor from the Rainbow Factory - the origin point of the outbreak in this AU. (Rainbow Dash isn't affiliated with the Factory in this one, don't worry)

The Spectra Mutagen was originally synthesized in an attempt by the Factory's medical team to maximize harvested Spectra (the raw pigment in ponies) due to a steady decline in Flight School failures over the years.

This mutagen instead, upon infection, overloads the body with Spectra. This induces fever, hallucinations, madness, then finally death and reanimation.

Infected of most stages are easily spotted by the bright over-saturation of their coats, manes, and eyes; along with rainbow blood and bile.

Prism's the team leader and healer, although her bedside manner sucks, as she's thoroughly desensitized to tragedy and gore - a result of her Factory upbringing.

She escaped during a riot by infected prisoner test subjects and plucked her own feathers to ensure she could never return to the sky.

[ricky-mortis]

I’m thinking about supernatural spies again…

[darlingsart]

Anyone else get really emotional about their OCs? 😭😅

Started working on the next chapter of my fic yesterday and I had to stop to draw Pat and Achilles with Max because I just love the little family I’ve made for them! 🥺

[raiiny-bay]

the boys, 80s-ified

[semisolidmind]

Look I gotta agree with the boys reader is so squishy and I simp- I simp for the queen of ffm I shall take my leave now

all hail the queen.

(fr tho i was feelin some kinda way and decided to draw reader. was just gonna be a study where i tried to solidify what body type i wanted her to have, but then i thought this needed rendering. so here's reader during the beach episode or smth)

[cupophrogs]

I'm running backwards up a halfpipe/pos

Welcome to the game, Daneilla (Danny)Darling! I’m still working on her main-world design, so her Space Riders fit is all I have for now. I’m almost done though! I think y’all will like her!

Anyways, Danny is a young Aerospace Welder and Engineer, and lives on the Intergalactic Emergency Sub-Station: a company, and space station dedicated to preserving life and safe travel through the cosmos. When she’s not traveling with other crews as an on-call engineer for dangerous voyages, Danny is dispatched across worlds to complete maintenance checkups on passing ships and other space stations.

Personally, Danny is a flexible, relaxed young woman with a steady hand and a quick mind. She loves her job, and she’s not working or napping, she enjoys dancing and debating silly questions like weather there are more wheels or doors in the world (she will always say wheels). She isn’t put on the front lines often, considering her lack of supernatural abilities, but her cunning and resourcefulness always keeps her opponents guessing. Her favorite drink is Horchata!

(Space Riders au belongs to @onyxonline)

Alt ref and close ups!

[halichor]

I spent an unholy amount of time on this sketch dump, but I got a little too attached to Jehan and Karythos in this au 😔✊

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 12

PREVIOUS

If there was one thing no one would ever guess about FF it is that he unapologetically LOVES Black Friday.

You may be thinking. Ugh Black Friday. Everyone is so rude and tired. The deals aren’t even that good. It can turn into a blood sport at the drop of a hat over a toaster that is 15% off.

You are correct.

That is why FF loves it.

It is the one shopping day of the year where every single one of his instincts are correct, valid, and useful. He has pulled his gran out of the way of elbow drops, he has avoided the gaze of a woman in PINK sweat pants who was looking for someone to steal a blender from, and he knows without a doubt that the cashier hates him already so there’s no need to worry about whether or not they hate him.

It’s like a breath of fresh air!

Everyone is just as antagonistic and awful as he thinks they are!

Shopping is actually the blood sport he always feels like it is!

So there he is standing in a line at the nearest store (Target) waiting to be let in with the masses who all look ready to stab one another for better positioning for a TV. The jokes on them though because his only goal is the grocery section and he deals with the threat of repeated stabbings for BREAKFAST.

He spots an IHOP in the distance and hopes his gran doesn’t feel too lonely. They’ve gotten buttermilk stacks together at the IHOP by the mall for years after the two of them finished Christmas Shopping.

Someone elbows him in the side to get his spot in line but FF does not really care. Again, he doubts any of these people are going to be racing him to the all purpose flour.

It’s 4 AM and the barricades come down.

There’s a rush of people pushing and shoving but FF just steps to the side and watches as they all rush in. He’d mostly stayed in the line because the throng of people made it easier to stay warm. He had left his jacket back at the house because the five hour energy might be making his skin feel super sensitive but he is pretty sure that if he wore his nylon jacket he would die.

The five hour energy also may be upping his anxiety just a little bit.

He walks into the store at a leisurely pace and while the crowd fights over the carts he grabs one of the baskets. He can feel the eyes of other shoppers all wondering if he has some insider knowledge on a good deal that would only require the basket or if it’s a matter of who gets to the back to receive the ‘redeem’ coupon.

He sees a few shoppers get lured in by his siren call and much like a siren following anything that FF is about to do will undoubtedly lead to their downfall.

But FF doesn’t care about that.

He cares about HIS downfall.

So he makes his way to the grocery section and ignores the six different shopping assistants who try and guide him to where he ‘should’ be shopping and each of them only give him increasingly confused looks when he states his intention to go to the grocery section every single time.

Is it easier to ignore their stares when the five hour energy have set his baseline heart rate to something that might be too fast to register as a heartbeat? Maybe.

It is easier to ignore the confusion on their faces when he can see both the past (he asked for TWO favors from Andrew in one day how is he still alive???) and the future (still malleable at the moment apparently. There’s even a future where Andrew actually just is trying to make overtures of friendship but he dismisses that one as INCREDIBLY unlikely and looks at the far more viable one where Andrew at least makes his death quick while he enjoys his great gran’s brownies.)

It’s good to set reasonable goals for yourself.

So he arrives at the grocery section which is deserted aside from one employee who may or may not be asleep against a shelf. FF looks and….not a shelf he needs so he is not about to wake that poor man up.

So he gets everything he needs for his great gran’s brownies (he’s trying to buy his life here so he is not about to assume he can use ANYTHING in the house), the ingredients for a good breakfast (because he really needs to eat something that is not a five hour energy or sugar for the sake of his poor stomach and he may as well get enough for everyone), and (since Captain Neil mentioned it & he is trying to buy his life here) the ingredients to bake another pie.

While he grabs cinnamon he checks to see if they have grandma’s love in stock but, alas, it continues to be unavailable commercially.

He stares at the whipped cream for so long that the employee asleep in the other aisle woke up and asked if he needed help and, startled, he dropped it in his basket. “No I’m good.” He says before power walking out of the grocery department and deciding to brave the Home Goods section to buy some incense so that he can hopefully channel the spirit of his great gran to assist him in this, the darkest of his baking hours.

He arrives at the check out stations and finds the shortest line .

He can feel eyes on him, inspecting his purchases, judging them, judging him, who the fuck goes grocery shopping during the Black Friday rush?

FF.

FF goes grocery shopping during the Black Friday rush.

The cashier looks for hidden cameras but FF has no such thing accompanying him today or ever (as far as he knows.)

After a moment the cashier must look at the ever growing line and decide that whatever scheme they think FF is up to isn’t worth trying to figure out. They offer a membership card, FF valiantly declines to get one despite the two attempts.

He is out the door with four bags of groceries that all have a target on them that feels a little too correct. It’s 6 AM now (he really did lose a lot of time at the whipped cream section) and he’s walking back to the house in Columbia.

He actually feels a little bit better since he at least got to experience his actual favorite blood sport (sorry Exy) and he even got another 2 five hour energies while he was in the check out line so he could replace some of the ones that he had gone through.

“Smith?”

He would like to thank the combined weight of the groceries for keeping his feet on the ground when he heard Captain Neil’s voice.

He turns and Captain Neil is looking at him wide-eyed in his running gear that Smith has seen him in. “You were shopping??” He asks.

FF nods and lifts up the four bags as evidence. “Why didn’t you pick up your phone?” He asks.

FF almost scoffs but he doesn’t, “You can’t be distracted when you’re in a Target on Black Friday. That’s how you take an elbow to the eye.” He responds because it’s like Captain Neil has never experienced the WWE-like environment of Black Friday shopping.

Captain Neil blinks at him.

“Text Andrew or me next time you’re going to go off into the night or just let us know beforehand. Andrew would have driven you.” Captain Neil says and grabs two of the bags out of FF’s hand. “C’mon let’s get back and maybe you can get some sleep.” Captain Neil sighs.

“I’m fine.” FF adjusts the bags so he has one in each hand.

Captain Neil does not say anything so FF assumes that he has accepted that.

***

FF had not been asleep on the couch when Neil had walked through the living room. Neil, in a move that had Andrew fully waking up, went back to the room to check his phone to see if FF had texted him an update on going out. All that greets Neil is the impersonal series of texts that mostly confirmed when practice times had been changed, when the bus was leaving, and spelling on various Spanish words.

FF isn’t a big text person.

He’s more of an in-person kind of friend.

Neil likes that about him most of the time.

“What.” Andrew asks face still half buried in Neil’s pillow.

“Smith isn’t on the couch.”

That has Andrew getting up despite the early hour and their activities the night before. Neil watches as Andrew grabs his own phone to scroll through but seems to come up with the same lack of communication that Neil does.

Andrew does do the extra step and hit the call button.

But all he gets is the confirmation that the VM has not been configured that has greeted them every time FF misses their calls. (Voicemails make FF anxious so when he got his new phone he just…never configured it.)

Neil knew that FF was not pleased with them and somehow the calm request to either stop fooling around or let him out had hit him and Andrew harder than any of the screaming demands that the two of them were usually met with from Nicky, Kevin, Aaron, or any of the other Foxes.

“You said he wasn’t mad.” Neil says.

“He nodded.” Andrew confirms.

“Maybe he went on a walk?” Neil tries as they come out to the living room. They look at the front door and find that it’s locked but it looks like Aaron’s keys are gone. “He probably is going to come back if he took Aaron’s keys since Aaron wouldn’t be the one he’d be irritated with.” Neil rationalizes.

“He didn’t bring his jacket.” Andrew says looking at the black jacket still on the hook by the door.

“We can go and see if we spot him.” Neil offers.

Andrew nods and Neil heads out first since Andrew is still in his sleeping clothes and will need some time.

Neil had not expected to find FF walking back to the house with groceries for breakfast and the pie that Neil had mentioned hoping they could bake at the house.

“Is this for the pie?” He asks looking down at what was in the bags he was carrying as the walked back to the house. Neil managed to shoot off a quick text letting Andrew know that it was fine, FF just went grocery shopping.

FF just nods, “Got everything but Grandma’s love.” He says.

FF is a nice guy to brave the stores on a morning like this but FF also looks like he hasn’t slept a wink.

“Did you sleep at all last night?” Neil asks.

“I’m fine.” FF repeats.

Neil really is starting to understand his friends’ hatred for the phrase.

They get back to the house and Andrew is sat out in the living room. FF stops and blinks at the sight of him sitting there.

It is a well-known fact that Andrew does not willingly wake up early most days unless he has to. Neil is glad that Andrew has a friend that he’s coming to care about the way Andrew cares about FF.

Andrew gets up and yanks the bags out of FF’s hands. “Go to sleep. Today will be irritating if you’re half-asleep.” He says with a scowl and walks to the kitchen to put away the groceries FF had bought.

FF just looks at where Andrew had gone uncomprehendingly for a few moments and Neil figures he’s just tired. Neil feels guilty that him and Andrew messing around in the car like that had rendered FF unable to sleep and the two of them had agreed last night that from now on when FF is in the car they can talk all they want but hands stay on the wheel and eyes stay on the road.

FF is plopped down on the couch when Andrew and Neil come out of the kitchen after putting away the groceries (“These are the ingredients for brownies.” Andrew had noted as he put away melting chocolate.) and he’s looking through his flashcards again and not sleeping. He hears Andrew make a disgusted noise next to him and the next thing he knows Andrew is smacking the cards out of FF’s hands.

“Go. To. Sleep.” Andrew enunciates.

FF stares at him, then down at the flashcards. “I don’t think I can.” He says which is better than him lying and saying he wasn’t tired even if the truth had Andrew’s mouth stretch into a thin line that meant he was beating himself up for something.

“Try.” Andrew orders. “Just lay down and close your eyes. Nothing will happen to you while you’re sleeping.” He says.

FF blinks but nods turning on the couch and laying down. The blanket is still over on the lazy boy that Neil had set it on the night before and Andrew rolls his eyes before grabbing it and tossing it over FF.

“Thanks.” FF says before closing his eyes.

Neil looks to Andrew who nods and Neil accepts that there’s nothing else to be done for now and heads out on his run.

***

FF can admit that he’s a bit adrift in what Andrew and Captain Neil are doing right now.

He really should go grab another five hour energy because falling asleep IN FRONT of an irritated Andrew Minyard feels like a death sentence but “Nothing will happen to you while you’re sleeping.” And having a blanket thrown over him did not feel like a threat even if he can feel Andrew’s eyes watching him.

FF is tired and when he’s tired he tends to make stupid decisions. So FF lets himself drift off to sleep while the man who was likely going to move him to a secondary location sat and watched.

His dreams are not peaceful.

He’s running, can’t escape, an echo of words he should have considered before letting himself drift off and he knows he’s going to DIE.

He wakes up with a start to the smell of bacon, eggs, and hashed browns with Nicky standing over him. “Hey there sleeping beauty! I made you a plate!” He says and hands FF a plate of breakfast that smiles up at him with a bacon mouth, egg eyes, and hashed brown hair.

FF takes the plate and digs in immediately. He needs his strength.

“Today will be irritating if you’re half-asleep.”

Andrew Minyard was going to hunt him for SPORT.

NEXT

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[spaceratprodigy]

Ooh palettes 🥰 Jasper and Faith in either Malabar squirrel or cherry pie?

@darkfire1177 — [ palette prompts ]

✨ The Unplanned Variables ✨

[spotaus]

Okay! This one is less rendered than the other two, but here's some doodles of Tulpa figuring out how to co-exist! (Aka Fresh not taking training seriously while Dream is trying desperately to get his friends to think he's normal.)

When Dream first returns to the Star Sans', he finds himself in a pickle, because he needs Fresh to move his body. Sure, they made a tentative agreement that Dream trusted Fresh not to break, but Dream hadn't been specific enough with the guidelines.

Fresh pilots Dream's body based on the commands from his soul, but more often than not Fresh simply decides not to listen. Sometimes when they're training, Fresh will suddenly make Dream fumble his bow or send an arrow flying way off-target. Dream is always frustrated by this, unaware that Fresh it doing it for his own good and is forcing the guardian to take a break.

Blue was also made aware of Fresh very early on. One day he was passing the kitchen where Dream was cooking and spotted how Fresh's little form was wiggling out of the hole on Dream's skull. Blue made Eye-contact with Fresh, but said nothing since it seemed like Dream was aware and didn't mind. He waited until Dream told him to acknowledge the parasite directly, but suddenly a bunch of Dream's weird actions made sense to him. Blue regularly makes sure to check in on Dream, before abd after he's aware of Fresh, because he knows Dream works himself into the ground.

Dream (eventually) figures out that Fresh was being clumsy for his sake and nearly cries about it (even his mother and the villagers never did that for him, and Blue was the only other person to ever pull him away from training for his own good) so he gets a bit emotional. He feels bad for how angry he used to get at Fresh for doing that, but Fresh never gave him a proper explanation either, so it was a two-way street.

And while Fresh was lienent around Blue and Ink, he never slipped up around Nightmare's gang. Though, he did fight seriously, which to him might look like goofing off, which is completely separate from Dream's fighting style. (For now Dream uses Arrows and his Bow, but I'm thinking Tulpa has a T-Shirt Canon or a Nerf Gun by the time they make-up.)

Ideally Fresh cannot be seen during combat because he actually pilots from around Dream's soul, but sometimes his parasite form expands to support Dream's weak joints and act like a shock-absorber.

[bl0ssom-skies]

Sum oc doodles I did :)

(au belongs to @cuppajj!!!)