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mountphoenixrp · 2 months

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We have a new citizen in Mount Phoenix:

Morpheus, the Greek God of Dreams. He is the chair of the Faculty of Arts at Phoenix University.

FC NAME/GROUP: Xiao Zhan/Xiao Sean GOD NAME: Morpheus PANTHEON: Greek OCCUPATION: Mount Phoenix University Chair of Liberal Arts DEFINING FEATURES: Midnight eyes reflect the night sky, stars behind his gaze like a universe is inside him. Mysteriously always seems just a bit taller than his company regardless of whom they may be. Carries with him an otherworldly and pleasant scent that is an ethereal blend of poppies, lavender, sweet vanilla, heliotrope, chamomile, and valerian root. Soft spoken and comforting, baritone voice that is like a purr and barely above a whisper. Though shoulder-length hair is usually kept in a messy bun, the strands tend to always appear as though they are floating in water.

PERSONALITY: Gentle and whimsical are generally the first words that come to mind when interacting with Morpheus, though one may also notice a bit of melancholy that he covers well with a smile. Despite how charming he may seem, there exists elements that are clearly reserved and introverted–however, he does come across as rather friendly. Morpheus responds very well to creative individuals who enjoy the literary and performing arts. He certainly has a soft spot for children (especially HIS children). However, given how exhausting it is for him to maintain a physical form in the Waking Realm, he is aware that his lack of true tangibility is annoying to some, though he attempts to make up for this with his vivid illusions. When he feels actions must be taken–or if he feels very strongly about something–he will not hesitate. Despite his quiet demeanor, Morpheus experiences emotions very deeply and often internalizes what he feels. Though he certainly knows how to delegate to his brothers, it is quite the weight to bear when it comes to managing the collective consciousness of all living beings which leads to him being fairly introspective and quiet, and at times it may seem that he is not paying attention or that his mind is elsewhere. It is not uncommon for him to disappear mid-conversation or to leave a situation unresolved in favor of tending to ‘something more important’–though, if he is with someone he respects, he will excuse himself prior to departure.

It is nearly impossible to determine whether or not Morpheus is physically present in the moment or if he is subsisting through the consciousness of his company and those surrounding to create an elaborate illusion, making it seem as though he is there when he is not. However, he does have a few ‘tells’ that give away which is the truth. When he is not present, both his apartment and his office at the university are completely barren, just empty spaces; but when he is there, visitors are practically transported to another realm, the interior becoming however he wills it to be.

HISTORY: In times primordial, Hypnos had a thousand sons. The Oneiroi resided primarily in the caves of Lemnos with their father in a pocket realm near the mouth of the Underworld. Out of a thousand brothers, one demonstrated phenomenal skills above them all and was chosen as their leader. Thus, Morpheus was deemed the king as only he had the power to influence and shape the dreams of the gods. Such power made him both feared and beloved, but overall respected as even Zeus had confessed he feared Nyx and her brood, and the essence of his grandmother could be seen each time one looked within the eyes of the dream king to see the night sky.

Beyond his brothers, his first friend was a beautiful goddess named Leto; the goddess befell unfortunate circumstances (as many ladies did) at the whim of Zeus and, once discovered to be pregnant, earned the ire of Hera who then forbade any land to harbor the goddess as a giant serpent chased her out to sea. To protect his friend, Morpheus created an island between realms to serve as a sanctuary for her as she gave birth to and raised her twin children, Apollo and Artemis. Though with his friend and her children safe, Morpheus directed his own anger toward Olympus and both Zeus and Hera were promptly reminded just WHY the brood of Nyx should be feared as the king of the Oneiroi reigned terror upon the dreams of the gods, refusing to let them wake from a seemingly eternal nightmare until Zeus apologized to Leto for his transgressions and then to Hera for his infidelity.

Morpheus, being the only among the Oneiroi with the ability to influence the dreams of kings, was the architect and orchestrator behind the dreams of many influential persons throughout history, sometimes even appearing in the dreams personally to deliver a message in the guise of a familiar face. Agamemnon, Phillip II, Alexander III, Pericles, Solon, Leonidas I…all of their dreams purposefully curated by Morpheus per the decree of the goddess of Wisdom and War, Athena, another deity who he greatly respected and even more so admired for her ingenuity and creativity. Like his friend Iris, he served as a messenger for the gods.

Though he primarily spent his time in the Dreaming realm, he was not without love of his own, occasionally meeting and bonding with a beautiful mind; rarely, he would cross the bridge into the Waking world to spend time with them which did result in a child on more than one occasion. In times more modern, a new island sanctuary for demigods had been created, one that would become a home for those who needed a place to belong, a place for guidance. Morpheus ultimately opted to aid in the education of young demigods by becoming the Liberal Arts chair at Mount Phoenix University, advising young creative minds toward goals best suited to balance both needs and talent.

POWERS:

Master Illusionist–Able to craft extremely vivid illusions affecting all the senses to lead one to believe it is reality.

Dream Architect–Constructs and manipulates dreams in their entirety, from setting to cast to plot; he may change this however he sees fit.

Subconscious Tap–As dreams come from the subconscious, he is able to interpret what someone is trying to convey when words fail, leaving spoken language unnecessary.

Realm Shift–Able to shift between reality and the Dreaming via the subconscious of his company, leaving one to question whether he is truly present or a figment of their imagination.

Somnolence Manipulation–The ability to put someone to sleep or to wake them from sleep.

STRENGTHS: Creative, wise, compassionate, charming, natural leader WEAKNESSES: Dark, brooding, elusive, aloof, intangible

#cpop rp #crp #xiao zhan #sean xiao #x nine #mp; welcome

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woogoo-mood · 1 year

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#icons #moodboard #x nine #kpop #kim wuji #ator #azul bebe

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hypertechnica · 4 months

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gay people never flirt normally its always gotta be shit like this

#star trek #deep space nine #deep space 9 #ds9 #star trek ds9 #quark #odo #quodo #quark x odo #this is from s2x06 Melora

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khruschevshoe · 4 months

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The way that Jack, Rose, and Nine feel far more like a poly trio in late Season 1 rather than any sort of love triangle is INSANE. The vibes are FERAL and IMMACULATE. The kisses in Parting of the Ways. The sharing-story banter in Boom Town. The flirting. "Buy me a drink." "Continue on with whatever you were doing." The dancing. Jack dancing with Rose. Rose dancing with Nine. Nine offering Jack a dance. Everything Ninerose related. "Before you, I was a coward." The fact that Jack only makes sure that Rose is safe before dying for them, Rose brings him back to life, Nine's every interaction with either of them in the finale...honestly the way that Ten interacts with Jack in Utopia (ESPECIALLY the scene in the radiation room/Jack's reaction to hearing Rose is alive) makes even more sense if you realize that he and Jack are exes and that they once loved each other and Rose equally and then the Tenth Doctor WRECKED that by leaving Jack behind

#ninerose #ninth doctor #captain jack harkness #tenjack #tenth doctor #rose tyler #nine x jack x rose #ten x jack #tenrose #i was picking up ot3 vibes at age 13 before i even knew what polyamory was #doctor who #jack harkness #the parting of the ways #utopia

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deadsetobsessions · 4 months

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Danny Fenton is so damn sick of rich fruit loops. It’s worse now, since he’s one of them.

It’s not Vlad that he’s with, thank the Ancients, but Danny isn’t sure that this is better.

Because he’s Timothy Drake, a baby, and he’s been reincarnated after the Ancient of Reincarnation accidentally drank too much wine.

He’s going to kick their ass so hard when he gets back.

Danny huffs. He rolls over, ignoring the silent manor. Sure, he’s read the comics. Sure, he laughed and imagined being adopted by Batman- come on, Danny had black hair and blue eyes even back then, he was totally adoption bait- when his parents gave him reason to lose trust in their love. But that’s it, that’s all he thought it was. A day dream, a wish for a universe that didn’t exist.

Danny hadn’t understood the reality of the whole Infinite Realms thing, a place he was now the King of. Batman? Real. Danny? Reincarnated. Hotel? Trivago.

Like, this wasn’t what he meant, dammit.

And now he’s stuck as Timothy Drake, and Ancients, he was starting to see parallels.

——

Danny tried photography. He really did. He wanted to at least stick to the source material. But that’s not who he is. Even with the shiny new brain that memorized, catalogued, and put together clues at the snap of his fingers, but Danny’s never been one to take photos. It’s a respectable art, for sure, but Danny preferred to live in the moment instead of capturing it to remember forever. It’s just-

He watched the Graysons fall. He watched Dick Grayson turn into Robin. And Danny can’t and won’t ever betray his Obsession like that, ever again. He can’t let Jason die for his “story” to begin. That’s not how Danny works.

He’s there to protect.

Danny hasn’t ever been just Tim. Danny was also Tim and the Ghost King without a haunt. But now? Gotham is his haunt. He, in lieu of an actual city spirit, is Gotham. He’s also a Drake. And Drakes were meant to hoard.

Batman and Robin? They are his.

He claimed them, as a Drake. But that claim is weak. So he claimed them as their city, and that is a claim that will never be able to be challenged.

Danny’ll be damned before he allows some lanky starved clown beat the life out of one of his Robins. So, for the first time in his nine years on this planet, Tim-Danny goes ghost and flies.

“Who- who. Are you?” Robin slurred from his place in Danny’s hold. He is broken, yes. But not dead. Danny infuses some of his vitality, his ecto, into Jason’s injuries to help them heal.

“Gotham.” Danny replied, layering his ghostly voice with those of the city.

“Goth’m?”

“Gotham. Sleep, little bird. Your city has got you.”

When Robin, Jason, settled with a sense of trust that tugs at Danny’s core, Danny carried him to Batman, whose eyes were wild and manic. He glared menacingly at the green and white ghost in front of him, who was holding his broken and beaten son-

Well, it’d be menacing if Danny hadn’t watched him eat bricks and mortar, crashing into a building while using his grappling gun.

“You-”

“I am Gotham.” Danny cut him off. Despite his wary nature and natural paranoia, Batman settled at his city’s gaze rested on him. Danny knew that Batman recognized his city. Batman’s head bowed, but his eyes stayed on Robin. “You were supposed to take care of Robin.”

“I- I know.” And that voice was all Bruce Wayne the Dad instead of Batman the Vigilante. Danny gently placed Robin in Batman’s arms, taking in the tremors as he held his son close.

“Go back, Bruce. And make sure Jason knows how much you love him.”

He laughed as Bruce whipped his head upwards. “I am your city. You are mine as much as I am yours. I’ve known of you before you were born.”

Technically? Not untrue. But Bruce will chalk it up to weird magic shit. It’s not like it’s a secret that Gotham’s kind of curse. Besides, this way, Danny will be able to help out more often. And Bruce won’t be able to connect Tim Drake to the “Spirit of Gotham.”

“Return, my knight. This is not your city. I can not protect you as well as I can in Gotham.”

“Thank you… Gotham.”

Danny sighed. He wondered when he’ll have to field questions from a John Constantine. He’s pretty sure Bruce will call in magical help, even if it was his own city he was investigating.

Batman’s lucky Danny liked him enough to allow it.

#Danny is Gotham #danny phantom #Jason Todd #Jason Todd as Robin #joker is about to get haunted #bruce wayne #Gotham’s knight #batman #bamf danny phantom #ghost king danny #dc x dp #Danny is Tim Drake #he’s like nine #Jason Todd lives #joker? probably not #the bats: hmmm suspicious #also the bats: Gotham loves me! I’m doing the right thing!#dp x dc

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badxwolf · 3 months

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Christopher Eccleston on Junior Mastermind (x)

#i love him som uch #<3<3 #christopher eccleston #doctor who #ninth doctor #rose tyler #timepetals #ninerose #nine x rose

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hattersarts · 2 months

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heres a seven/raffi collection ❤️ (commissions for @theofficeghey)

#star trek #star trek picard #seven of nine #raffi musiker #seven x raffi #realised i had posted none of these to here

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little1005village · 1 year

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Forget Me, No?

#xiao zhan #xiaozhan #xiao zhan肖战 #肖战 #肖战xiaozhan #肖战daytoy #sean xiao #daytoy肖战 #daytoyxiaozhan #x nine xiao zhan #x nine #The Longest Promise #Sunshine by my side #Oath of Love #The Untamed #Where Dreams Begin #Legend of The Condor Heroes #Gucci Cosmos #i died

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confessedlyfannish · 7 months

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DP x DC Writing Prompt #5

Damian does not glance back at Bruce when he knocks on the door. Instead they both wait in silence.

After a moment, the door opens.

"Hello," Jasmine, Jazz, Fenton greets politely, unsurprised to find the Waynes on her doorstep. Damian's expression grows ever darker at this revelation.

"Hello Ms. Fenton, are your parents home?" Bruce asks, placing a firm hand on Damian's shoulder, to ground as much as to restrain. To his credit he does not shake it off.

"No, they're out of town for a conference," the eighteen year-old says, opening the door wider. "But I think you'd better come in."

Bruce would normally decline, but Ms. Fenton is a legal adult and he has already, even unknowingly, waited 16 years. Damian makes the choice for him, striding past the threshold.

"Please take a seat," Jazz says as she leads them to the living room. She ignores Damian's swinging head as he takes in the home. It is deceptively large, a 90s style house filled with modern furniture. The walls are bright, with purple and green accents that would normally feel garish but somehow work. The stairs leading to the second floor are lined with family photos that Bruce yearns to take a closer look at. "Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?"

"No, that's alright, thank you," Bruce says, taking a seat on the long plush couch. A men's windbreaker lies haphazardly thrown across one of the arms. A closed container of Oreo cookies sit on the coffee table next to a physics textbook open to chapter 16, half covered in highlighter and filled with sticky notes. There's a child's painting framed next to the tv, a handprint made to look like a thanksgiving turkey in bright blue.

For the home of experimental scientists, it is cozy and well lived-in.

Damian repeatedly glances at the stairs through the doorway.

Bruce clears his throat. "We were hoping to--"

"I've texted--oh, I'm sorry," Jazz says, having spoken at the same time. Bruce gestures for her to go on.

"I've contacted Danny, he should be here soon. He was out with some friends." Jazz explains. As she hadn't pulled out a phone in their presence, Bruce can only deduce they have some sort of camera at their front door. This also explains Ms. Fenton's complete lack of surprise at their appearance.

"So you know who we are." Damian says, the first words he's spoken since they arrived at the house and the longest sentence he's spoken since they arrived in Amity Park.

"I do," Jazz says, calm in the face of Damian's clearly simmering anger. Bruce trusts him not to attack Ms. Fenton, but he still watches him carefully.

"He told you about me," Damian says. It is the same question, but it is also not.

"He did," Jazz says.

Damian swallows. "I see," he grits out.

Jazz's neutrality slips and her face softens in sympathy. "Damian," she starts hesitantly, but before she can say anything else the front door opens.

A moment later Bruce's son walks through the doorway, and Damian is on him.

This is what Bruce hoped to prevent, but despite his numerous checks of Damian's luggage his son has still managed to smuggle a small dagger, which he now produces and swings in a calculated arc at Daniel Fenton's jugular.

Danny dodges cleanly, and dodges every swipe thereafter in a manner that speaks to continued practice long after his time at the League. Damian is a perfect product of his training, but it is up against Danny his flaws come to light. He is just as good as he always was, but Danny is better.

In a matter of seconds Damian grows frustrated and sloppy in his attacks, completely atypical for him. Danny takes Damian out at the knees and pins him down with one arm, pressing his face into the carpet.

"Calm down," he orders. His voice is deeper than Damian's at sixteen to his twelve, the accent that still traces Damian's words completely gone from his speech. Damian growls and thrusts his head back into Danny's face, meeting it with a sharp thunk. He rolls up as Danny recoils, putting distance between them. Danny glares at him from several steps away, hand to his forehead. Damian tosses the dagger into his other hand as he charges, and to Bruce's surprise Danny does nothing more than turn his face to the side, allowing Damian to draw a sharp line down his cheek.

Damian stops dead in his tracks.

"Are you done?" Danny asks, blood beginning to pool at the seam of the cut.

Damian's expression is stricken, eyes stuck on the blood starting to drip down his brother's face.

"I said, are you done, Damian?" Danny asks. His voice is cold.

Damian hears him this time, and he flushes red. "I--you--"

Danny sighs. He looks at Jazz, whose expression is back to carefully controlled.

"Are you alright?" he asks her. She nods.

"You left me," Damian accuses, standing there holding his bloody dagger limply.

Danny turns back to him, raising an eyebrow.

"You left me," Damian repeats louder, rapidly blinking.

"Yes. I did." Danny provides no excuse nor any explanation. His stance is unyielding.

Damian's eyes bounce wildly, shifting to Jazz and Danny slides smoothly in front of her, protectively. He looks at Damian warily, not as if he is his brother, but as if he is a danger. Damian flinches.

Hope is the last to die, Bruce thinks, watching as that last bit of hope Damian had is extinguished, the knowledge working its way through every inch of his body like ice in his veins. His eyes darken. He turns and runs from the room, the front door slamming shut not a moment later.

Jazz stands up, pulling a few tissues from the box on the coffee table. She presses them to Danny's face, cupping his cheek until he holds it himself. "I'm going to go get the first aid kit," she says gently. It is a thinly veiled excuse to leave them alone, and Bruce is grateful for it as she heads for the stairs.

They both wait until her footsteps have faded, taking each other in. Bruce looks at his mother's eyes and the sharp turn of Talia's nose. Damian's everything, four years older.

"You shouldn't have come here," Danny says, throwing himself on the armchair Jazz has just vacated.

"You know who I am," Bruce says carefully.

Danny glares. "I've kept your secret. She nor my parents know."

"I know," Bruce says. "That's not what I meant. You know who I am. And who I pretend to be. So you know I am familiar with masks."

"And?" Danny asks, looking vaguely bored.

"And so I can recognize when someone is wearing one. Damian will too, once he's calmed down."

Danny's expression sharpens. "No, he won't. Because you are going to go to back to whatever bed and breakfast you're staying in, pack up, hop in your private jet and fly him back to Gotham immediately before the League realizes you've gone. If they haven't already," he mutters.

"This is about the League then," Bruce says. "Do you not believe I can protect you?"

"I don't need your protection," Danny snaps, and watches Bruce actively extrapolate with a dawning resignation. "So this is the World's Greatest Detective at work," he says, slumping bonelessly into his chair, the first teenager-y thing he's done.

"Damian's in danger from the League," Bruce says. Danny glares from his slump. It's almost cute. "And as long as the League doesn't know about you, he's safe."

"Draw your own conclusions," Danny says, baring his teeth. Damian often makes the same face. "As long as you leave."

"I can protect him. I can protect you both," Bruce says. "Let me help you."

Danny closes his eyes. He centers his breathing in an exercise someone has clearly walked him through in the past. Bruce would bet money on the adoptive sister waiting patiently upstairs.

"Mr. Wayne. You are not my father," he says. "My trust in you extends to the point that I left Damian in your care, but that is where it ends. And that was when it was sanctioned by the League. By coming here you have endangered those sanctions."

Bruce disregards the sting, doubling down on his analysis. Talia had left Damian with Bruce well after Danny had left the League. But Danny speaks as if the decision had been his.

Or perhaps, Bruce realizes, it is not that Danny decided upon it, but that Danny allowed it to continue.

Bruce takes a second to review what Oracle had gone over with him before they left for Amity. Daniel Fenton had by all accounts, since leaving the League, lived a fairly normal life. His adoptive parents were eccentric scientists dabbling in the occult but their findings that bordered pseudoscience circulated a very niche community of like-minded eccentrics. The bulk of their income came from alternative energy, a more viable source of study that they'd veered harder into in the past year or so, a government contract with the EPA currently in the works. This had in part funded a vacation to an all-inclusive resort the family had taken that past summer.

Danny received average grades in school, above average in science and mathematics, declining sharply in his freshman year and sophomore year before evening out around the second semester. He had gotten into fights repeatedly with one student in particular, suspended for two weeks following an incident that resulted in a the student receiving a black eye. Teachers reported him to be highly intelligent but distracted and removed. They had recommended he be evaluated for an attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder. He had no social media. He had missed multiple picture days. The ones he had attended he was sneezing, or a blur of movement, even going so far as to fall off his stool, legs flailing. Bruce had drank up every last one as Barbara had waited patiently.

A normal life. A family vacation to Bermuda. Average grades.

His freshman year, distracted and removed. The same year Damian had arrived at Bruce's home. Masks upon masks.

"You have informants within the League," Bruce says. Danny, to his credit, has no discernible tell. But there is no other explanation. "What will you do, if they find out you are alive?"

"That is none of your concern," Danny says, but he might as well be saying whatever I have to.

He never stopped practicing, after all.

"If they go after Damian, it is my concern."

"And that is why you need to take Damian back to Gotham before they do." Danny says. "I will take care of it."

Damian had barely spoken since he had realized Danyal was alive. But Bruce had seen the reverence in his eyes as he looked at the file.

"الوريث الصحيح" he had murmured. The rightful heir.

"You are proposing going after the entirety of the League with no backup," Bruce says. "Even if you think they won't kill you, you won't win either."

"Maybe they will," Danny says lightly. "Kill me. That would also work."

Bruce inhales sharply. "Danny," he starts.

"Go home, Mr. Wayne," Danny says, pushing himself up with one hand. The other still clutches the wad of tissue to his cheek, partially soaked with blood. "Go take care of your son."

"I'll go," Bruce says, "I'll take him to the Watchtower. And then I'll come back."

"Mr. Wayne-"

"I should've come for you," Bruce interrupts. "Sixteen years ago. I should've come for you."

Danny's brow furrows. "You had no idea I existed."

"But if I had. I would've come. I never would've left you there. And now that I know, I am not leaving you now."

For the first time Bruce watches Danny be completely caught off guard. He openly gapes at Bruce.

"You would've died," Danny lands on, voice thin. "They would've killed you."

"Unlike you, I would've brought backup." Bruce says, mimicking Danny's lightness.

He's lying. Sixteen years ago he would've thrown himself at the League to save his newborn son without a plan, without a thought beyond rescuing his baby.

Danny barks out a laugh. "You would've laid siege to Nanda Parbat with The Big Blue Boy Scout?" he looks wistful. "That would've been rad."

Bruce sees his opening. "Danny," he stands, eye to eye with his son. "Let me help you."

Danny evaluates him. "The Batman," he says softly. "I didn't want you to come, then. I didn't need one more person I had to prove myself to. All I wanted was to live amongst the stars, in the quiet of the cosmos."

"You want to be an astronaut," Bruce says. At Danny's cocked head, he says without shame, "I read your essay on personal heroes. You wrote about Edward White. Ad Astra Per Aspera."

Danny smiles slightly, sadly. "It is a rough road."

"You can be whatever you want to be," Bruce says. "I won't stand in your way."

"Even if I want to be Danny Fenton?" he asks.

"Even then."

Danny sighs. "I don't need your help Bruce," he says. "No," he says as Bruce opens his mouth. He pulls the wad of tissues away from his cheek. Underneath the splotches of dried blood the gash in his face has cleanly knit itself together, a faint white line now all that remains.

"I don't need your help," he says clearly. He holds a palm forward, and a green fire grows from its center, until the flames are licking delicately up his fingers.

"I know The Batman does not kill. But I am not a Robin. I am something else entirely," Danny says, his eyes reflecting the green of the flames. Or not, as he looks up at Bruce, his eyes green all on their own. They are sad. This is why he stayed away, Bruce realizes. Not out of fear. Danny is not afraid. Danny is tired.

But for his brother, Danny will wake up.

"And If the League takes one step towards Damian, I will raze them to the ground."

#Danny I AM RETIRED FROM MURDER Fenton #the informants are ghosts #the thing about deductive reasoning is sometimes you deduct incorrectly #particularly when you don't know about the ghosts #danyal al ghul #damian wayne #danny phantom #batman #dp x dc au #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #dp x dc prompt #bruce wayne #this is an au where damian doesn't get blown up and lose most of his vital organs #like bruce still isn't a super responsible parent but no nine year olds blow up so that's something #danny: he only blew up once so he can stay with you #batman: he did get speared straight through but we fixed it #danny: he wHAT #i wrote this instead of eating dinner #because drafts are for the mentally healthy #tbh i don't think his name would be danyal al ghul in this one #he's trying really hard to stay under the radar I don't think he would choose essentially a homonym

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