@mysteriae - Tumblr Blog

Visit Original Link

𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐄 private, highly selective multimuse blog feat. primarily fantasy based characters from various media ( incl. deathless, dragon age, stardust, bridgerton, myths & more ). studying the concepts of: crossing the axis mundi, demystifying our legends, resigning to the call, prohibitions bound to be violated, the war after the war & being dead from the beginning. as written by caliope ( she/her 21+ pst ) affiliated with: @serenaderain & @maeinade

✧ carrd ✧ prompts ✧ sb: @lysius / @ochiathea / @peaceforger

✧ HIATUS UNTIL OCT. 1 activity will be sparse for the foreseeable future

#personals dni #up. 9/19/23 #who am i kidding im not making a carrd #rules & mains are under the cut !

once again im so sorry for the disappearance friends but a comeback is pending for after new year’s! i’ve been incredibly busy with life and lost my laptop with all my files and psds from the past year so 🥲 when i do come back it’ll be much more lowkey and likely going to do a revamp of everything. until then i’m going to be on disco so feel free to say hi or let me know what new or old plots you might be interested in so i can figure out who to keep/prioritize !!

mysteriae

so sorry for the silence! but activity will be sparse until the end of september. i now have three trips back to back, some work related so i won't have much free time, but next week's trip i may pop in more!

#last update I promise but I'm flying back home next monday so will be on hiatus until the end of the month #gonna need a bit of time to get back in the groove I'm just not in the headspace to write but maybe a little revamp / makeover will help #either way miss you guys !! hope you have a wonderful rest of september !! <33

duskildan-arc

don't leave until the sun rises. ( from kiki !!!! )

FEEL MY RHYTHM, ACCEPTING.

the request is not much request as it is demand, softly uttered by her quiet voice and yet administrated straight from one heart into another. how could he not listen? how could he have ever fathomed an existence where he does not bend towards her, wind to branches and branches to earth? even if the whole world could stand against them, could doubt her or think of her not as capable as she exactly is, he could have never turned from that light nor that fire. it is that fierce burn that keeps him tethered to keyleth, that makes him lean his head in and listen to just chase another little snippet of the way her voice sounds when it evens out at the end of a sentence. to be caught in the centre of that voice, of the ever-turning quick pace overgrowth of her mind, and answer a demand he has hoped and wished for too many nights to count. there are fates far worse than this, than his, as long as she holds the thread in her hand for a second.

he is prone to leave before her, ever made for dusk rather than the bristling white light of dawn, but for her he'd make the time of night hours stand still. " okay, " he says and is unsure if his voice comes out steady or with a rasp telling her everything she'd need to know to understand the affect she has on him. even a nocturnal dweller craved that warmth, craved a glimpse of morning here and there, and with her around he craves it the same way his lungs need air. stripping down to his black under shirt and the trousers he always wears anyway, he finds himself far more human than he usually feels. she has that affect on him, too. then he lies down next to her instead of taking vigil at the foot of wherever she decided to rest. " i'm staying, kiki. i'm not going anywhere. not until you wake up anyway. "

mysteriae

lately, something takes hold of her senses -- not shame, not hunger. that's left to the emaciated dogs barking in the ally below the unit's blinded window. they're fighting each other for scraps, while willfully neglecting that their nature wasn't defaulted for aggression and social disconnect. it sets the precedent for what this gridlocked city breeds in everyone. keyleth isn't an animal though, even if government scientists treated her like one, and neither was vax, to be sleeping at the foot of the bed, standing guard even when the hour finally calls for rest; for some humanity ( some progression ).

the request had been a seed nurtured beneath the tongue for too long, and tonight it finally blooms into a need too great to keep from outgrowing the trellis of her teeth. it's not that she thinks he'd refuse her the tenderness, it's that she doesn't know if she should allow herself to hold what he places in her hands. she knows how this is likely to end, but she wants him close. and can't stand the thought of anything separating them now. not even sleep, and especially not daybreak. ❛❛ good. . . but i don't trust you not to skip breakfast. you'll have to stick around for that too, ❜❜ she says, with a friendly smile that pretends it wouldn't be a meager upgrade from the utilitarian bars he keeps handy, or that this isn't just an excuse to have him be the first vision she takes into the day.

laid beside each other, almost nose to nose, her eyes are full of his shadow and her ears are tuned to the sound of them breathing in tandem through the darkness; a comfort that quiets a busy mind, and muffles the drone of flying machines to a soft hum. ❛❛ that's what bees sound like. ❜❜ she whispers the thought aloud. what she means is: ( this place feels wrong and unnatural, but not when i'm with you. ) there's a thousand years worth of latent knowledge and memories beating in her veins. in the lab, the focus had been too much on downloading the ashari's destructive potential from it; but now, when the nights are less mired in the nightmares she still has of that place, a heart set to the downy magic of dusk can dream about the beauty that surrounded her ancestors too. that's the effect he has on her. ❛❛ i wish i could show you how it was before. ❜❜

#duskildan #⧽ 𝐢𝐧𝐭. : keyleth .#hey let me just...... (cries in softe)

morjenstern-deactivated20240131

crown of starlight. ( daniel and nyx !!! )

how his youth championed the beacon of his glorious eyes, as if hemera herself rose through the sphere of them at each dawn. a fit of simmering clouds evaporated under his arrival, presenting her great-grandson to her dais with a warmth worthy of a midnight prince. it is a feat of bravery itself for him to have ventured this deep into the chasm of the dark queen, beyond even the realm that his father inhibited if only to pay his greetings to her domain. the quasars of her eyes study him with attentive interest. they were alike the dark birds and crows of the earthly realm that way, for they did not forget a character of kindness.

❛❛ little one, ❜❜ said the voice that had manifested from this endlessness, a murmur of static that slowly stitched itself together in ancient greek. night had not appeared strictly however; rather she revealed herself in glimpses to protect his eyes and mind, taking the vague shape of a hooded woman who stood three times his size. ❛❛ as you were. stand yourself up and let me see you. ❜❜

for the journey he had risked, and for his obedience in her court, the young dreamer awaited his boon. her amusement was imminent in the ripples through space that surrounded him, amidst floating ruins and doric pillars. ❛❛ i will favour you a boon indeed, and one that you desire alone; now, what will my great grandson ask of me? you may speak. ❜❜

* 🏺 action prompts … ft. daniel hall.

mysteriae

he had the sense to be a little afraid, although nervous may be a better word for it ( a coin with two sides, as his father might say. here, that means equal parts fear and excitement ). after all, even under the pretext of family matters, a young gentlemen knows it isn't polite to invite oneself into a primordial plane and ask for a favour upon a first meeting ; but the intrusion was one guided by necessity as much as a descendent's hankering curiosity, and maybe that makes for a forgivable mixture. so daniel hopes, as he greets the primordial night bowing reverently and in silent penance. a sound, beyond words or music takes shape around him, to form an inky blue lilt from the hum of a hundred stars about to burst, which he understood, without really knowing, to be what a homecoming might sound like.

a weight lifts, and the dreamer smiles to himself, standing straight again at her behest, in his most preferred form ( not a victorian boy, bound up in collared blouses and suspenders, but the astral image of an oneiromancer, in a white exomis, dulled by the toil of his journeying and held together at the shoulder by hypnos' sigil ) daniel gazes up at nyx, the green pea galaxies in his eyes only a fraction of the worlds stored in hers, but still overfull with wonder ; still shining with a mortal's transient and no less prolific promise. ❛❛ hello jaddati, ❜❜ he grins over the vowels of familiarity, and finds a moment to be at ease again, comforted by the enormity of her image and grace ( the way all satellite children must be in the orbit of the planetary mothers that forebear them )

❛❛ were it a matter of my desire, i'd be content with a seat at your hearth, to be granted just a single story of your youth. i'm sure you've seen things no god could dream of. ❜❜ a mistress of mysteries , the demigod knows she who sits on the dais is only a slice of what the goddess embodies ; that the truth of her is shrouded for his own good, as such things usually go. what he wouldn't give to have his earthly form suit the fathomless impossibilities of his kin. ❛❛ but regretfully, i come to you at an hour of need. ❜❜ a quiet but persistent dread lunges through his organs then. ❛❛ my father is missing, at the most inconvenient of times. you see, gaia has set a giant loose upon the dreaming, and it threatens to dismantle all of it. i was hoping you might help me . . . find where morpheus is ? or grant me the means to stop it ? ❜❜

#oddyseas #⧽ 𝐢𝐧𝐭. : daniel hall .#it's the way i always have to immediately respond to nyx #it can't be helped !!#danny boy is THIS close to asking to be reclaimed

lovestereo

Visit Original Link

#⧽ 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐲 : daniel hall .#ok......... ok wait bc #even his voice is on brand for dream..... i think .... i think thoughts are being re-thunk

startercall ✧ . yor forger ( @scythed ) ft. loid forger , accepting

while the forger household winds down for bed, twilight makes quick and grisly work of extracting one last bullet fragment over a bathroom sink, ignoring the uneasy churn in his stomach when he digs a hooked needle through the angry flesh. the stitches are sloppy and syncopated, but enough to stay the bleeding, he thinks; efficiency eludes him where the buzz and flare of fluorescent light is deemed just as unbearable as the task at hand. he's too eager to turn them off, showers the mess and fatigue of a day's work away guided by moonglow and memory alone.

within the briefcase, thrown gracelessly onto his reading chair, latex and body paint waits for a second dressing. he hasn't the energy for it tonight, opts for a long-sleeved sleep set instead; in a dark navy color to soak up any blots of red, should he knick the stitches by morning or fail to keep his laundry out of yor's reach. frankly, it's the injury that concerns him least. headache, nausea, sensitivity : he knows what that spells, and knows it's the beating that was taken ( " from a burly pro wrestler, who refused to get his shots " ) that's keeping him awake tonight -- even if all he wants is to sleep.

soundless footfalls make their way past yor and anya's bedrooms, and, unsurprisingly, bond is found in the living room, curled up on the couch he told him to get down from at least a thousand times before. ( to no avail, clearly. ) twilight sits beside him with a relenting sigh and single pat on the head, then empties out a puzzle on the coffee table as quietly as he can, to pass the time as much as to self-monitor his cognition. on a bad day, it might have taken him five minutes to get through, but on a bad night, his focus can hardly piece the borders together, and he's unsure if it speaks to the severity of his concussion so much as his failures. idle, in the quiet, it's all he can think about.

in all his years, this was the closest he'd ever gotten to not only having his operation blown, but his secret cover, too. he was lucky to be alive; lucky to still have a home to even come to. he knows bad luck isn't to blame for a close call though. all of it could have been avoided if he hadn't made the decision to take a bullet instead of a shot. ( why did you hesitate ? ) he stopped asking himself that question the moment he stepped through the door, too relieved to find his peace was no longer in jeopardy; here, he stops asking again, the moment the answer turns on a light. ❛❛ yor, i-- ❜❜ he squints and frowns, too aware again of the swelling around and behind his eye. ❛❛ i hadn't meant to wake you. sorry, could you maybe dim those down a little ? ❜❜

#scythed #⧽ 𝐢𝐧𝐭. : twilight .#hey yor webmd says u need to monitor your fake husband for the next 12-24 hrs... what do u do 🤔

daylighterarchived

❛ i’m every nightmare you ever had. ❜ ( from mel <33 )

the routine unfolded as it normally did, in that safe-reliable way that meant breathing would be a touch easier as a result of it, with fewer discrepancies to make one's skin itch. if you asked kenneth this was the preferred structured of a thursday afternoon that he had taken off from work to mull over his routine, said ruminating housed inside a small beat-down vila on the outskirts of beverly hills, a thirty minute walk from camp jupiter's parameters. this was the routine: powder, hot water, a terrible amount of sugar, coffee, matched with a buttered toast, picked strawberries, and a jobless entity hovering over his shoulder.

❛❛ i think i've heard that line in a christopher nolan movie. ❜❜ sip, drag, incapacity to share: he kept his eyes out the small window on the side of an antique kitchen, the interior burnished from his valiant efforts to bring the place back to life. the window had been wiped clean and revealed the wide stretch of healthy farmland that belonged to the romans, and the vague shape of melinoë making breakfast sick next to a silo. ❛❛ do you know every supervillain in the world says that? ❜❜

the place wasn't much, but it was a sizeable gift from a sibyl who hadn't wanted it anymore. that was besides the point, when the backdoor was a portal right into the city. thursday afternoon: buy a glue-gun, shove down ten years worth of despair she enlivened. he pushed the plate towards the goddess, food that had been interestingly populated with decay with her nearness. ❛❛ are you still fretting about the earth's eye on your back? ❜❜

mysteriae

the insult doesn't land upon one so ancient, but the name rings a bell. takes her back to a recurrent nightmare from the nineties, where a film student living alone in a flat, much like this one, was tormented by a bug to the point madness. only then was he able to crush it beneath his boot; only then could he come to find that the bug was him, and a larger boot now loomed over his head. ❛❛ if i'm not mistaken, that's the same cockroach who created a thesis to placate me. ❜❜ shadow-spun fingers take form to drum thoughtfully against the tabletop, sending a thrill of black insects to crawl from beneath her sharp finger nails. they infest the shaded space with her amusement before crossing into the sunny outline of the kitchen window, burning away in a cacophony of tiny, agonized shrieks. she hums, unbothered: ❛❛ you know what they say. emulation is the sincerest form of worship. ❜❜

the plague that sets upon his plate is a nuisance as much as a reminder of his duty to hospitality. within her reach, the moldered food becomes a ghostly revival, consumable again, but to dwellers of the underworld alone. ❛❛ she's getting suspicious. thinks i'm being too easy on you and your friends. ❜❜ perhaps gaia was right about that, melinöe thinks, as the apparition of her mouth bites into an equally illusive strawberry. having breakfast with a supposed enemy certainly doesn't help her case, but deathly-grey irises do enjoy the sight of his hidden disquiet, which seems to grow with every visit. ❛❛ she wants me to infiltrate your camp, bind as many as i can to their nightmares. i'll have to abide her, of course . . . you can find a way to keep a third of your best awake. the others are mine, understood ? ❜❜

#daylighter #⧽ 𝐢𝐧𝐭. : melinöe .#jobless entity is going under the list of her epithets im IFGUHSJDSD #they truly do not have the right to be this funny

card of coins ✧ . gwen ( @serenaderain ) | fantasy action prompts , accepting

a castle, carved out of the peak of mount huon, veils itself amidst purple-grey thunderclouds ; a most unwelcoming sight ( for a number of reasons ) to those who stand at the base of the mountain, in a quaint little town known as cloudsrange. the warm mist of petrichor serves as a warning and gentler prelude to the downpour that is to come, so when the townsfolk begin to clear the streets, tristan and yvaine follow suit, finding shelter inside an innkeeper's tavern. the innkeeper is a spritely crone, of an indeterminate age, but rumored to be old enough that she might have lodged the first of the eighty one lords of stormhold when he first came upon the high craigs.

' you mean the first of eighty two lords, ' the crone corrects yvaine, but does not answer to the truth of the rumor, much to her irritation. ' coronation or not, he who holds the power of stormhold be our eighty-second lord. tristan thorn, be his name -- and that's your husband soaking in the tin bath, isn't it lass ? ' knowing eyes warn her against lying, and the bite of fear darkens the star maiden's heart. seeing the dim of her translucent skin, the keeper purses her whiskery lips, and eventually promises to keep their identities a secret as her lady wishes. ' but better leave his mother a note, if he insists on lollygaggin' about for another three years !' the crone huffs as she wobbles off with two jugs of ale, leaving yvaine to herself but under watch.

had it been three years already? she bawks at the thought. despite the plethora of sights and misadventures that the two had journeyed through, it feels like a wink of time to a star, whose poorly set leg and bruised side now ache with a reminder of the start as if it were yesterday. yvaine frowns, mind whirling with the implications, unaware of the stranger who approaches until two coins are laid on the wooden counter in front of her, and a valiant voice calls to the barkeep for a round of drinks. the star's eyes blink at them, a twinkle of light from within the shade of her silver-blue hood. ❛❛ i thank you, good knight, ❜❜ she says warily, accepting the drink out of politeness, but does not take the first swig outright. ❛❛ might i ask where you hail from ? ❜❜

#serenaderain #⧽ 𝐢𝐧𝐭. : yvaine .#an immortal knight buying their immortal future queen who's playing hooky with her husband a drink ???#sounds like a meet cute to me

card of dust ✧ . aerith (@greatgospell) | fantasy action prompts , accepting

a tugging sensation on the warden-commander's sleeve is followed by a hushed yet urgent whisper, reeling her back from the depths of sleep. violet eyes open wide, a gasp leaping from her hammering chest. she forgets that she had spent a night poring over tomes sent from the circle to her new headquarters at vigil's keep. she thinks she's still in the middle of a blight when black flames, dappled with cold stars, ignite around a fist, ready to unleash a blast of necrotic energy upon what she believes to be encroaching darkspawn.

the spooling light of daybreak filtering into her study and a delayed awareness steps in just in time to reveal the imagined foe is a friend. horrified, more so at the thought of what she might have done, asteria unclenches her fist, pressing that palm flat on the cool wood of her desk for grounding, then clears a groggy throat. ❛❛ aerith . . . ❜❜ the name is a greeting, a reassurance, an apology. ❛❛ — i wasn't expecting you. ❜❜

#greatgospell #⧽ 𝐢𝐧𝐭. : asteria .#r ip almost planted a spirit bomb in you bestie

wand of memory ✧ . aya akazawa ( @chthonaya ) | fantasy action prompts , accepting

the boy does not fit in -- a quintessential high school cliche, if not for the fact that he was no high schooler, and his reasons for seeming out of place ran far beyond strange dress or social ineptitude. though a youth by appearance, he was an endless, the lord of dreams who could recall when the first living creature dared to imagine its first idea and would be here still when the last living creature closes its eyes to that final and dreamless sleep. which may come much sooner, he thinks, if he does not manage to find his dreamstones.

clad in white robes, he floats through the empty halls, trailed by starlings and pearlescent cloud smoke, pulled by an ancestral call toward the heart of this school, to where he knows a dormant stone has been kept and stirred awake. to what end he cannot say, but already he notes the subtle shifts of illusion and fragility between planes threatening to rupture. at once, there is the monotonous rows of lockers on either side of him, yellowed and aged with time and vandalism, and then there is the sense of being swallowed, stuck between the comb of a whale's baleen teeth.

the deeper he ventures through them, the more it seems to filter out his intangibility without his notice, until the smoke clears, the stars in his eyes dim to a deep green, the robes begin to shift into a white polo uniform. passing a trophy case, he's distracted by an unrecognizable reflection, staring at the stranger like an animal, tentatively learning its own image for the first time. ( you are still daniel hall, the boy who is and never was. )

he takes note of the photographs of past and current students, all full of promise, smiling brightly beside their tokens of achievement as if they knew, even at this age, exactly where they were headed, who they would be. ( and who might you have been, if the dream king never claimed you? ) the question knots in his brow and somewhere in his chest, but he does not dwell on this unpleasantness for long. a bell rings, loud enough to make him wince and his thoughts scatter. suddenly, he's caught in a swell of students flooding the hall in a hurry and a raucous to get to their next destination, and he stands in the middle, dumbstruck and wide eyed. forgetting where he supposed to go. unsure if he should follow the crowd.

#chthonaya #⧽ 𝐢𝐧𝐭. : daniel hall .#this got unnecessarily long so don't match length but !! aya pls come get the lost anthropomorphic dreamweaver #if he pukes it's on you to clean it up 😭

also please note that daniel is biracial, so despite the comic visuals, he does not have pasty white skin. his mother lyta hall is white (half greek considering she's the daughter of wonder woman and steven trevor in a previous series) and went by the superhero moniker of "fury"; his father hector hall is egyptian, and originally went by the moniker "silver scarab" before he died. for his non-canon verses ( particularly his greek/pjo ) i'll have his mother be egyptian and father be the greek god morpheus, so either way! pastel bf is all white aesthetics and has white hair, yes, but is not pale and will not be whitewashed in his dream of the endless form. i'm keeping him faceless since his age will vary a lot and the options are limited, but if you need a point of reference, think tamino with his resting sleepy boy face, floppy hair, and ken's magic earring, and rami malek's energy and green eyes.

#like oof do not tell me a hero born in egypt and steeped in egyptian mythology is a generic blonde american man #a huge yikes from me but we are once again fixing canon's mistakes

send ♫ for a dynamic playlist ✧ . vax'ildan ( @duskildan ) ft. asteria | prompt , accepting

001. running up that hill, stranger things totem mix: it doesn't hurt me / do you wanna feel how it feels? / do you wanna know / know that it doesn't hurt me / do you wanna hear about the deal that I'm making? / and if i only could / i'd make a deal with god / and i'd get him to swap our places / be runnin' up that road / be runnin' up that hill / be runnin' up that building

002. lose your soul, dead man's bones: you're gonna lose your soul, tonight / you're gonna lose your soul / you're gonna lose your soul / tonight, tonight / oh, you're gonna lose control, tonight / you're gonna lose control / you're gonna lose control / tonight, tonight, tonight / I get up in the morning / to the beat of the drum / i get up to this feeling / keeps me on the run / i get up in the morning / put my dreams away / i get up, i get up, i get up again

003. fate, her: why me? / if you walked a mile using my feet / you would go a little easy on me / you know where i'm coming from, yeah / how come, when I'm lookin' at everyone / they get away with havin' little fun / i'm paying these dues when they don't mean nothing / sweet, sweet fate / i had about all that can take / am i living in the bed that i made / is it yours? i wonder / sweet, sweet fate / sweet, sweet fate / oh if it's really out of my hands (if it's really out of my hands) / can you forgive all of my sins? (can you forgive all of my sins?) / have mercy on me, me

#duskildan #⧽ 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐲 : asteria .#im late but have not forgotten about this !!!!#actually screaming over the badassery that is raven mom and her champion #but i was THIS close to plugging in 'you're dead' by norma tanega for the giggles

godwitch

𓂃₊☁︎ ⊹ I AM THE SUN & MOON, FOREVER CRAVING ! a non-canon & folklore-based portrayal of zoya nazyalenskaya ━ exalted by corazón THE SHARPENED EDGE WHERE DAY & NIGHT SHALL MEET BUT NOT BE ONE

#ON MY KNEES FOR ZOYA AND CORA!!!!#are you seeing this????? the vision !!!!! the talent !!!! truly unreal #⧽ 𝐞𝐱𝐭. : promo .

at work thinking about how daniel and his character arc is the literal antithesis to morpheus. morpheus starts out as one of the oldest entities in the universe, detached from humanity, rigid, cold, unchanging, and then through circumstantial exposure to humanity he's slowly but surely influenced by it in a positive way and well on the path towards becoming a more balanced individual until that arc gets cut short. his essence is transferred to a literal baby, the closest you can get to a pure and innocent life form who then grows up in the dreaming, is so kind, so open, and now you're back on that character arc of becoming a balanced individual but from the complete opposite end of the spectrum.

daniel is likewise inhuman and in need of change because he's too kind, too open and trusting, too detached from reality, and circumstantial exposure to inhumanity then influences him in a negative way, so he becomes less pure and innocent BUT if he can manage to not snap under that change, not mirror that inhumanity, that's when danny and morphy can fully harmonize as a whole and complete being and when you're looking at a true dream king, who isn't perfect, but is actually worthy of his station and should be respected.

#anyways here we see the sandman as a study on the human condition ! morphy journeys through it from the nihilistic / cynical end #and danny is the idealist but the point is to get pastel bf to become a realist #i want to see him face the most unhinged things and be so close to going apeshit and overboard so close to repeating morpheus' mistakes !!!#but then.... find a way to do better without being a naive pushover you feel? a true neutral dream king indeed

rainystarters

* ☔ : action prompts inspired by FANTASY, NOBILITY, ETC. some prompts are usfw. add reversed for the muse receiving the meme to perform the action instead. ( adjust scenarios or specify details as needed. )

crown of dawn. sender swears their fealty to the receiver.

crown of silver. sender congratulates the receiver on their political engagement, hiding their true affection for the receiver.

crown of midnight. sender dances with the receiver at a masquerade.

crown of glass. sender meets the receiver while their true identity is concealed.

crown of shadows. sender controls the receiver through magic or blackmail, making them their pawn so they can rule from the background.

crown of ink. sender meets the receiver for the first time after they are joined in an arranged marriage.

crown of starlight. sender kneels before the receiver to receive a boon.

crown of rot. sender accuses the receiver of failing their people.

crown of sorrow. sender tells the receiver they are the new lord/queen/etc. as those ahead of them in the line of succession have died.

crown of blood. sender stands before the receiver to be judged for their crimes.

crown of lies. sender accuses the receiver of not being the true heir.

crown of thorns. sender crowns the receiver after killing the previous ruler.

crown of nightshade. sender consumes a poisoned drink meant for the receiver.

#still primarily on koschei ftm but !! will try to get to these this weekend #⧽ 𝐞𝐱𝐭. : prompt .

✧ . some preliminary profile notes on daniel hall

fair warning !!! major sandman spoilers ahead. please im me if you want this tagged for his posts. genuinely don't mind, but won't do so if no one requests it

overview: daniel was originally the son of hector hall and lyta hall, both of whom were trapped in a pocket of the dreaming when they conceived him, leaving daniel to develop within the dreaming and be claimed by morpheus as his child by proxy when he eventually dismantled this pocket. the king of dreams said he'd someday come for him, but lyta swore to never let that happen. when loki and puck kidnapped the child, she assumed morpheus was responsible and thus brought on the series of events that led to his demise. however, as one of the endless, necessity bade that his essence continue on in a different form. this form was the young daniel, who is now an endless, embodying morpheus' essence while still being a wholly separate person albeit with foggy remnants of morpheus' knowledge and memories. he functions as the new dream of the endless, but must first locate all twelve dreamstones in order to stabilize and fully synchronize with the dreaming.

#mmhmm mmhmm a little obsessed w him #⧽ 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐲 : daniel hall .

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs