#with the tree obviously

[starswirly]

Info dump on Saucer, please!!!! Give me all the information you want!! I want to know more!!

FEED ME

Also, if you want to, you can also info dump on the ship with Nightmare and Saucer! I think it’s called Rotten Apples, right?

Anon my BELOVED holy moly of COURSE I WILL AUGH!!! (And yes their ships is Rotten Apples :3c)

URGH MY SILLIES- I have slight issues and may have accidentally decided to create an entire alternate Dreamtale so my silly oc and Nightmare could have a tragic childhood friends to lovers arc, I promise I’m so so normal- I really really want to write it out in fic format one day, so I don’t want to spoil it but hmmmmm

Saucer lore- quick facts! From Dreamtale, came to the village when they were ~8 (which, there’s a whole lot for the Lore of this alternate Dreamtale [I’ve convinced myself there a lot i don’t actually know-] but basically the incident happens when they Apple Twins are in their later teens, with a much minor [but still impactful] incident happening when they were 6.) they had run away from home on a quest to become a healer, and met Nightmare that way (ish. Again, details.) the two bond and grow pretty close! Saucer is outgoing and a bit mischievous, but also socially awkward given their upbringing-

which is its own thing- Their parents are a human and a nature elemental, and had lived a pretty secluded life. Naturally, while Saucer is a very curious child, they aren’t great with people at times because of that!

Jumping ahead a bit, when the actual incident occurs, they technically die- their body is left in a limbo state thanks to Dream’s stone imprisonment (which effects the functions of the entire world. It goes wonky and the world outside of the village sort a just… deletes itself. The things left are left in limbo, slowly decaying away until the multiverse’s positivity surges and Dream escapes- breaking this world out of its purgatory.) Saucer isn’t the only one to survive, and they end up teaming with Dream to NOT die immediately after waking up thanks to still-pissed-and-vengeful …villagers? Again, details getting fuzzy, but you get the idea.

getting out into the wider multiverse, Saucer is dead set on finding Nightmare and figuring out what happened to him- a lot of time had passed and they wanted to know what happened to their friend. Dream and them part ways, as Dream is responsible for the positivity in the multiverse and as much as he wants to find his brother he also knows that it wouldn’t be good for him. He’s got his whole thing- Saucer actually DOESNT think poorly of him, just a bit disappointed.

Saucer and NM have a whole reunion/run in- and while a more canon-adjacent NM might’ve killed them, I’m a sucker for self-indulgence, and Saucer just says ‘yeah no you aren’t getting rid of me.’

Hence them becoming the eventual gang’s healer. (They tend to be much more loyal to people rather than actions- you aren’t getting rid of them if they’ve decided they’re going to be around you.)

THE SHIP THOUGH-

Oh I love them. They’re just. So much history. An understanding of everything you are and who you have been and still being loyal and loving each other because- well, it’s what feels right. Like- Saucer pretty much defying death and trekking through the multiverse to find some shadow of someone they once knew, who had been grieving over someone who should have been dead for centuries and who he never got to say goodbye to. Nightmare never having to say goodbye again- because they survived and didn’t want to leave. Just. Incoherent now, sorry, my brain is rotting-

[jay-wasstuff]

LA's environmentalist lawyers pulling up to Universal:

Update:

Well then, I guess:

[aaaaaaafrogs]

Finally finished my most ambitious Hatchetfield project yet. Every box in the border represents a different Nightmare Time, as well as Hey Melissa, Trail to Oregon, Workin’ Boys, the BBQ monologues and Peanuts the Hatchetfield Pocket Squirrel. The three large boxes at the bottom represent the three main musicals. It’s 18x24” and made with sharpie :]

[rookflower]

starting a petition to end this dichotomy in warrior cats designs forever

[itty-bitty-sunshine]

Happy holidays <3

They are fine. Probably

[s0fter-sin]

trans!soap taking his baby and running away from his rich abusive husband

(cw angst, financial abuse, single threat of child abuse, single mention of transphobia)

he's owned soap for years, since he was a teenager; paid for his medication and all his surgeries and tied them so deeply, soap’s lost hope of ever getting away. he gets even worse when soap falls pregnant. he was always controlling; blowing up at him if he spent too long out of the house or did something without telling him. but he becomes utterly possessive during the pregnancy

soap knows it has nothing to do with his safety or the baby's

he knows he sees his baby as an investment; another being he can control and hold over him

he gets worse and worse but there’s nothing soap can do. there's been nothing he can do for a long time. then a few months after the baby is born, soap doesn’t watch his tone closely enough and his husband threatens to drop his baby in punishment for it

soap doesn't think. he doesn't plan

he takes his baby and runs

he sneaks out of the servant's quarters of the sterile mansion he's been forced to live in for almost a decade and walks down the street without a backwards glance; his baby the only thing in his arms. he knows all of his husband's cars have trackers, all of them in his name since he never lets soap drive or go anywhere by himself, so he walks far enough to be out of view of the mansion's cameras and steals one. it doesn't have a car seat and all he can do is clutch his baby to his chest as he drives

he doesn't know where he's going beyond away

he doesn't know what he's going to do; he doesn't have any money, no supplies for his baby, he doesn't even have water for himself so he can reliably breastfeed him. he's terrified his husband will find them; he’s always felt omniscient, always everywhere and seeing everything he did. if he didn’t have eyes somewhere, he paid someone who did and they always dutifully reported back to him

soap just keeps his eyes forward. just keeps driving and driving, lost to the road and numb until the low gas light pops up on the dash and it all hits him at once

he turns into a gas station he can't pay for, in a car he stole, and parks behind it and his baby immediately starts getting fussy

he can't even call him by his name sometimes; too afraid to get attached, too afraid to lose him. as if he doesn’t love him more than life itself

even throughout his pregnancy, as happy as he was to finally have a baby, he didn't know if he could carry to term and that fear just let his husband dig his claws in even deeper; paying for extra scans he could never hope to pay for, favours on top of favours so he would aways owe him and isn’t he such a loving husband? taking soap in when his parents kicked him out for being trans, looking after him for all these years? you can’t even take care of yourself john, you’d still be a woman without me, john, what is this tantrum about john-

soap tugs his shirt up to let his baby feed, drops his head back and cries

he can't stop it; wails loud and uncontrolled, chest heaving with his sobs enough that it sways his baby, occasionally breaking his latch and he can't even do this right-

he can't save him

a light knock sounds on the window and soap flinches, curling over his baby to protect him from his huband's cruel hands

but it's not his husband outside the window

soap blinks tears from his eyes and looks at the large stranger standing beside the car. a neck gaiter covers his mouth and it should be off-putting… but something about him stops the feeling in its tracks. the stranger takes a half-step back and lifts a chilled and sealed water bottle, pressing it towards the window

soap quickly swipes his face clean and rolls down the window. "sorry 'bout that," he apologises with a choked laugh, the careful front he’s built over the years cracked and bleeding

the stranger gives a dismissive but somehow not diminishing shrug. "long day?" he asks

"could say that," he gives a shrug of his own and pats his baby's back as he makes a disgruntled noise, unconsciously swaying him

he politely keeps his gaze up on his face. "looks like you could use a break."

soap's breath hitches, anxiously darting his tongue out over his bottom lip. "could say that," he repeats uselessly and takes the water with a quiet “thanks,”; his throat dry and screaming for it after crying so hard

the stranger hums, watching him down the bottle and soap doesn’t notice his eyes drifting to the backseat and footwell of the passenger side. doesn’t notice the slight tension in his fists at what he sees. "how long you been runnin', lad?"

soap freezes, the water settling in his stomach like a stone. he swallows thickly and the bottle falls from his lips

"not long enough."

the stranger just nods, looking idly back down the highway

"you know, this place is connected to a garage,” he starts, nodding back to a building attached to the station without taking his eyes off the road. “lotta people drift through 'ere on road trips; too many to keep track.”

soap frowns slightly, shifting his hold on his baby

“funny thing is, plenty of 'em just abandon their car when they break down. like yours,” he adds and finally turns back to him with a pointed look. “got a whole junkyard of 'em. just rustin' away. be pretty easy to convince me to trade ya one."

soap’s mouth parts in a gasp as he realises just what the stranger’s saying. "how easy?" he whispers

he shrugs and even with his face hidden beneath the gaiter, he doesn’t feel afraid. "i'd say this car'd be a good deal. would blend right in with the rest of ‘em; no one’d ever notice it. what say i take it off your hands?"

soap's breath shudders out of him, his whole body going limp with relief. his baby's eyes fall shut with a satisfied hum and for the first time he can remember, he feels the gentle touch of hope

"i think we can work something out."

🧼💀

ghost owns the service station soap pulled into. he wanted something quiet and isolated after he retired and you can’t get much quieter than a backwoods servo surrounded by forest. he hasn’t had anyone pull in in days so he’s quick to notice soap’s car. he’s also quick to notice soap's subsequent breakdown in one of the cameras. the sight of him crying, desperately clutching a baby like they’re all he has left in the world, is so familiar he felt sick with it

he knows someone running when he sees it

if he didn't check on him, if this lad disappeared one day and the baby along with him, he'd never forgive himself. the lad doesn't even have a baby bag or car seat with him, and the personalised sticker on the back window of a lady and a dog is a dead giveaway that the car is stolen

but the lad is terrified. and when he startled him, he didn't turn. didn’t lift his arms to protect himself. no

he covered his baby

like he was afraid he'd be hurt

that's enough for ghost

🧼💀

i'd wanna set this in the 80's or 90's, just to make it even harder for soap to get away from his husband. he's a trans man with a newborn; he has no one to run to and no resources to help him. his husband's bought and paid for everything for him since he was 17; a few whirlwind weeks of unbelievable dates and extravagant gifts and he was living in his mansion, getting married the day after his 18th birthday. he thought it was love. thought he was being looked after and cared for the way he’s always wanted

he was in pain and alone and naive enough to believe the first person who came along and promised to make it better. nothing's in his name, not his insurance or his meds, he doesn’t have a bank account or savings; other than a birth certificate, nothing even ties him to his baby. his husband could take his world away from him with a snap of his fingers and he made sure soap always knew it

he never had a chance of getting away

but ghost is ex-military

he doesn’t know the lad’s story, doesn’t know the details of what he’s running from. he doesn’t need to know

he decided he was helping him the second he pulled into his service station

[luuxxart]

there’s always like. seven

also. under the cut, bonus Nanako persona from my fic and you believe at heart everyone’s a killer bc I just never drew Suseri-hime before now

[cherrirui-official]

"You know... You didn't have to take that with you."

"But I promised him I'd take him out to see the ocean one day."

[the-plague-to-end-all-plagues]

A death for a death!

Flippy's first kill was Toothy. Toothy's first kill was Flippy. They had this neat, visual parallel. Me like, me draw

[catpriciousmarjara]

Okay so there's this dp x dc tumblr post about the JL finding the Ghost King's family tree or something and lots of misunderstandings happening but I can't find it anymore and would be grateful if someone would send it to me... Anyhow I was inspired by it and this is the result!

Also on ao3 if you wanna check it out there!

The Family Tree

"So you're telling me this is just a family tree?", Green Lantern asked with a frown on his face.

Bruce could see Constantine's eyes twitching at that question. As always, leave it to Hal Jordan to annoy people.

"This isn't just anything", the sorcerer said with narrowed eyes. "It's a Class-X magical artifact. If this thing is used as a focus for a ritual, the magnitude of magical energy would rise by at least 80 factors. For those of you non-magical or unfamiliar with magic, that's fucking huge."

Beside him Zatanna nodded, her gaze still fixed on the ancient manuscript. She hadn't taken her eyes off the scroll for more than a minute since she got to the Watch Tower and first saw it spread out on the containment room table. Constantine was the same. Captain Marvel was not present, working along with Superman, Hawkgirl, and Aquaman on a case, but his reactions have always been dissimilar from his magical colleagues, so his case might be anywhere between staying the hell away from it to trying to inhale it.

It was clear to Bruce that Zatanna coveted it, but was sensible and cautious enough to stay away from it. Constantine had no sense so he was a tossup. From where he was standing between Wonder Woman and Martian Manhunter, the Gotham vigilante resolved to keep an eye on the two magicians. They most likely won't try to steal the artifact, considering the heavy dose of 'not messing with that thing' overshadowing the desire to possess it, but the scroll itself might be enchanted to encourage covetous feelings on those nearby. It wouldn't be the first time. Better safe than sorry.

It was Diana that stepped up towards the two JL Dark members to seek more clarification. As both a Demigod and as someone familiar with magic, she was usually the one taking point on such issues.

She gestured to the scroll innocently sitting inside the runic circle the two mages had constructed around it. "You have told us that the artifact is not destructive, that it is merely a record, and that the information it contains is not a spell, or a runic arrangement, or a magic circle. You have also told us that the strange energy readings coming from it are mostly due to the material it's made out of than any catastrophic sorcery enchanted into it. You have at last decoded it as a record of a family tree. Yet it is dangerous, a Class-X relic as you've said. Given all this information, I suppose the correct question to ask here is this: why is a family tree capable of raising magical energy output by 80 factors?"

The two magicians looked at each other. Zatanna finally pried her eyes away from the scroll and faced the room.

"Magic is a force that simultaneously has laws but at the same time adheres to none. It's confusing to explain but for the time being just keep that in mind."

She walked to the center of the room, followed by Constantine, visibly trying to collect her words. Bruce prepared himself for a complicated explanation and activated another one of the batsuit's recorders. He felt the urge to sigh, for a supposed unchained force, Magic was needlessly complex at times, and practically incomprehensible to non-magicals.

At the front, Zatanna took a deep breath and began.

"As you know there are multiple dimensions. But magical dimensions come under a different category. Depending on the overall magical potential of a particular magical dimension, we call it the World State Stable Thaumaturgical Output Capacity, we can classify these dimensions in grades and levels, as either higher or lower, with relation to each other. These levels are dependent on a multitude of variables like space, time, gravity, Events, Proximity, etc and as such are non-linear, and unfixed. That's the first thing."

Bruce could practically see the capitals on the last two. Looks like they would need to hold another meeting to clarify a lot of these concepts. Seeing the dawning of lost expressions on some of the members however, Bruce mentally amended that to many future meetings.

Zatanna continued. "Magical objects from higher dimensions become stronger in lower ones. The inverse is also true. This is all in relation to the Overture and the same polarity orientation of course but we don't need to get into that now-"

On the contrary Bruce thought they really needed more explanation on all of that.

"-In simple terms, a child's toy from a higher dimension could become the focus for an apocalyptic ritual in a much lower dimension, while an apocalyptic artifact from a lower dimension might as well be paperweight in a sufficiently higher one. There are ways around it, but if those methods are not implemented, then this is how it generally goes. The larger the level difference, the higher the power."

Now that wasn't concerning at all. Bruce really needed to update his contingency plans regarding magic.

Constantine continued from where Zatanna left off, looking like he'd rather be anywhere but here.

"The second thing is that when it comes to magic, things that are indefinable or unquantifiable become definable and quantifiable. Stuff like love, hate, happiness, despair, fate, necessity, authority? All measurable. Not always needed of course, But definitely possible and frequently used in a variety of magical fields."

The sorcerer leaned against a nearby chair. "One such thing is Significance. The magic contained in true names for instance is mostly based on significance. A true name is significant to you, its a doorway to your soul, and therefore it holds power. Significance is also what we call a positive, additive factor in magic. In the absence of interfering variables, significance as a quantity is directly proportional to magical output. In other words-"

"-the more significant an object or an event, the higher the magical energy output, and consequently higher the magical power", J'onn finished. He looked towards the scroll. "The information recorded on it, the family tree as you've said, valuable in significance, most likely in terms of whose family it's a record of. In addition, the artifact is from a higher dimension with relation to ours, and that has a cumulative effect."

"Yeah exactly", said Constantine with a raised eyebrow. "Which means that if that hypothetical toy Zatanna mentioned? If that happened to be important enough, like a first toy, or a cherished gift or something like that, its significance increases, its potential increases, and in the right hands, or in the wrong hands really, that potential could be harnessed at a lower level."

There was a bout of thoughtful silence as they absorbed all of the information.

But Bruce felt as if he had been quiet enough and took the chance to ask a question of his own. "You mentioned something called the Overture, and polarity orientation. What do they mean?"

Constantine just sighed. "For fuck's sake Batsy those things aren't really important to the discussion..."

Bruce just stared.

..."Fine", the mage said in defeat. "There are many names for it, the Overture, Exordium, Legerdomain, Nascence...but the most accepted two are the Beforebirth, and the Womb. It's not a something as much as it's a someplace, but then again it's not really a place either. Simply put it's the birthplace of Magic, where it all began and all that. It can't be accessed without the Key and that's been lost for a long time. It's actually a mission for many magicals to find it you know? A holy quest for a lot of them. Some of them are straight up crazy though."

Bruce field that information safely away. Figure out a plan to combat fanatic magicians trying to find the birthplace of magic for sinister reasons. "And polarity?"

"Well", Zatanna began, "its how magic is classified according to the nature of...magic? Or rather the essence? It's hard to put in mundane terms...Anyhow broadly speaking there are two main polarities, the Obverse, and the Reverse."

For a moment, she struggled with the explanation before brightening, seemingly having found an idea.

"Picture a number line, but like on the y-axis! Zero is the Overture, Obverse dimensions are the positive number side, and Reverse dimensions are the negative numbers! The higher up the obverse dimension, the larger its magical output! Similarly, the lower down the reverse dimension, the higher its magical output."

Bruce had hardly parsed through that when their resident speedster spoke up.

"Guys", the red clad hero said, "I feel like we missed the obvious follow up question after Ollie over here...like I feel like this is important, but where exactly is the scroll from?"

As one everyone turned towards the artifact.

Constantine grimaced and Zatanna winced. They looked at each other as if asking who wanted to bite the bullet. Finally it looked as if Constantine lost. The sorcerer cursed under his breath.

"Well which dimension is the scroll from?", asked Wonder Woman.

Constantine took what looked like a fortifying breath.

"It's from the Infinite Realms."

Silence.

"What?", the Green Lantern asked intelligently.

"It's from the Infinite Realms. As in Infinite. As in end of the figurative fucking line, number line whatever!"

Everyone stared at the magicians as understanding slowly dawned.

There was what was essentially a magical nuke in the Watch Tower.

"Now", began Martian Manhunter, "this is unfortunate".

[weird-tea]

Honestly the more you know about the family trees in Arthurian legend the funnier the family tree in the show becomes.

[probablytree]

cake and ice cream is on its way

[tapestryundone]

thinking about the narrators lines in the beginning of the game

"no more birds"

self explanatory. the long quiet is represented through birds, theough feathers. the narrator is represented through birds, but a more grounded version of them. less draconic. but the princess is tied to birds more abstractly- HEA exemplifies this. the construct is her birdcage

birds are highly symbolic throughout the entirety of slay the princess. they represent death, change, the concept of free will. is it any question that the long quiet is a bird, when he acts of his own free will the most?

"no more trees"

the woods are the first thing the long quiet ever truly sees. before awakening, it is the first thing he even knows. trees are the anchor of the construct, and the last to change as the long quiets perception of the princess changes the construct itself. but they are discarded by the heart of the shifting mound- only the cabin is visible, something created of the woods. trees constructed into something new. trees are not static, even as the narrator relies on them being so

just as significantly, the princess is on occasion depicted through vines, and trees. even the shifting mound is highly reminiscent of the shape of a tree. more specifically, she calls to mind a deciduous tree- a tree that changes through the seasons. life that is not static, but is still sturdy, long lasting

the long quiet, however, hears the narrators description of a forest and immediately thinks of coniferous trees. trees that retain their leaves, and remain relatively static through a year. but they still grow. they are still, but not forever. the construct retains the shape of these even as the cabin and the woods erode away, leaving nothing but the imprint of the woods

and perhaps most problematically of all, no more people

ive discussed this before, just how deeply tied to people that the long quiet and the shifting mound both are, so i wont repeat it all, but above all else, the two are deeply interested in and care about people. people are the reason that the nature of reality is questioned at all, and it is the narrator- the original narrator- who grants them humanity at all. the shape of something human. as far removed as either may be or become, that humanity is never fully lost. it can never be discarded or forgotten

being a person is not a "you are or you arent" thing. the long quiet often thinks of himself as a person, but the shifting mound discards it entirely. they are both right, and they are both wrong. because being a person involves the experience of life, but also the experience of death. and yet it is also the capacity to know what you are experiencing, to feel the world around you and to know that it is. the long quiet and the shifting mound arent 'people' in a literal sense, but how else would one describe the experience of being? the ability to care about others? the ability to care about yourself?

'people' are just one lens that can be looked at to interpret the world. the two are many lenses, but those lenses are all their own people. the voices and the vessels are all people that make up the sum of two vast people

the narrator, within his first moments acting in the construct, is calling to mind all the most important things to the long quiet and the shifting mound immediately, intentionally or not. the capacity for agency and free will and the nature of the self, change and permanence as concepts that can and do coexist as forces in nature, and above it all, how these concepts tie into the experience of life itself. a constant that does not last forever and is experienced by and to life. from a writing perspective, it is incredible how one line feels so powerful with the context of the whole narrative

[aflamboyanceofflamingos]

Bart, Kon, and Cassie upon meeting Robin for the first time: Robin is so hyper competent, i don’t think a newbie like me could keep up

Bart, Kon, and Cassie now: I have an album in my camera roll dedicated to various videos and photos of Tim walking into things, and another just for him walking into trees because his reactions to those are the funniest

[carn-e-vil]

oh yeah.... im making aus now.... florist au but al haitham is a part time employee at the plant nursery tighnari owns and kaveh keeps running into him

[gingerteaonthetardis]

my head is so jumbled but there is something in there about lucy watching cooper kill a feral ghoul and not understanding that it is mercy -> lucy being forced to kill martha (also feral) in self-defense and not understanding that it is mercy -> lucy giving cooper his drugs because she believes that is mercy -> lucy killing her mother (also feral) and finally understanding that it is mercy, and how i feel like it's all leading up to lucy being forced to kill a feral cooper. both in self-defense and with the full understanding that it is mercy. and maybe that rationalization is what closes the circle, allowing her to effectively step into his place