#replies;phobetor

[elysiumxii]

hypothetical starter for @okajibana ft zeus & phobetor (but it's not really hypothetical)

With a leatherbound notebook against his palm and the gold dipped ink nib of his pen slowly scratching across the paper in intricate, slow swirls of penmanship and prose, Phobetor writes up his notes as he slowly paces the dimly lit room of his apartment. Lit by one, yellow-glow lamp in the corner of the room, casting tall shadows of furniture against the walls, the majority of the god's lighting comes from the long, single pane window beside him. Outside the quiet city scape is illuminated by the high, silvery moon, as the Greek slowly paces and considers his words.

He was writing up the notes from one of his first meetings with a different sort of client. Not one who'd paid for his body, but instead, for his ability to conjure fear itself. Slowly, as his client list from previous years had dwindled away, the god had taken up a different sort of work. Now he was using other skills, with his same, calming company as the backbone. Fear therapy. Phobetor had realised some centuries ago that he was able to understand and read the visions of fear and nightmares that his presence could conjure within others. To share it with him he was able to understand the root of the individuals fear, and help them face it. A counselling of sorts, reading fear.

It is as his pen writes one last swishing letter, finishing the sentence with a tapped full stop, that Phobetor feels a chill run up his spine and his pacing feet come to a still. He knows that feeling... but it couldn't be.

His dark eyes slowly lift from the page just before the whole room is illuminated in a shock of white, and outside furious thunder rumbles. His eyes dart to the window in alarm, as a soft rain starts to patter against the glass, and trees sway in the wind. That was a very ominous sign. His eyes squint as another flash illuminates his outline and he slowly turns to the window. He may not be able to feel fear, but he could definitely feel unsettled.

The rumble of thunder is interrupted by Phobetor's old style rotary phone on his desk as it gives a shrill ring for his attention. Dragging his eyes from the window he makes it on swift, long legs to the phone and plucks the receiver from it's handle.

"Hello, it's me... oh, a client? Tonight?"

Frowning the god looks down at his watch before he sighs with a nod. "Understood... I will be there in an hour".

A VVIP could only usually mean one thing, very very important deity.

[thevampiremarie]

So I can’t find this reply to my post anymore so let me set the record straight. The statement that “Morpheus was the Ancient Greek god of dreams, god son of Hypnos, and was actively worshipped in Ancient Greece” is FACTUALLY INCORRECT.

The VERY first mention of “Morpheus, the god of dreams”, IN HISTORICAL RECORD, appears in the work Metamorphoses by Roman poet Ovid. Metamorphoses, a Latin language epic poem, was composed in the year 8 CE, in Ancient Rome during the Ancient Roman period.

In Ovid’s text, Morpheus is actually the son of Somnus, not the “god son” of Hypnos. Hypnos was an Ancient Greek deity, Somnus was an Ancient Roman deity.

Hypnos’s name literally means “sleep” in Ancient Greek. There WERE Ancient Greek dream spirits, referenced by Homer in the Iliad (composed in about 8th century BCE, so 800 years before Ovid) as dream messengers from Zeus to Agamemnon. They were called the Oneiroi. Oneiroi translates from Ancient Greek to English as “dream”. While Homer does not list the genealogy of the Oneiroi, Hesiod does in his poem Theogony (composed in 730-700 BCE, so even older than the Iliad by about a century). In Theogony, which is one of the definitive ancient sources we have on the Ancient Greek pantheon, Hesiod states that the Oneiroi are sons of Nyx, with no father, and are brothers to Hypnos.

Morpheus in Ancient Greek would translate to “fashioner”, not “sleep” or “dream”, both words that existed in Ancient Greek already.

Edward Tripp, author of the book Cromwell’s Handbook of Classical Mythology (1970), calls the three brothers Morpheus, Phobetor, and Phantasos, from Ovid’s Metamorphoses, “literary, not mythical concepts”.

Firstly, I am an actual classicist. I have studied Ancient Greek mythology in university. I have read Theogony. I own a translation of that and one of Hesiod’s other works, Works and Days. I have multiple translations of the Iliad and the Odyssey. I have multiple translations of plays by Sophocles, Euripides, and Aeschylus. I am a reconstructionist Hellenic polytheist, a contemporary, community member, and friend to some of the foremost learned individuals in our religious community.

I have also read Metamorphoses by Ovid. You can attempt to debate with me a variety of things regarding history but this is actually something you can’t debate or argue because there is very well documented history. In fact, I would love it if you would google it yourself because I believe you will refuse to believe me. Please do NOT believe everything you read on Wikipedia or Tumblr or watch on Tiktok as an authoritative and accurate source on ANY HISTORY, much less the history of various ancient civilizations and their religious pantheons and practices.

[smallraindrops-blog]

If I may ask

What made you decide to make Icelos her own character?

From what I've read, Icelos/Ikelos/Icelus (so many different spellings) is another name for Phobetor, and it's seems in myth Hypnos never had any daughters, only sons. (I might be wrong, so please feel free to correct me)

I love what we have of her so far and wouldn't want anything to change, but I was curious and wanted to ask.

Long reply.

Honestly three reasons:

One. I got tired of writing of he/him, he/they pronouns. I needed a break lol. Also I think every family need one wild child who happily go in the mud chasing frogs and that is Icelos lol

Two. I thought it they were going each be split up depending on what dreams they were in charge of, it made more sense to me separate Icelos and Phobetor especially since I feel like nightmares are an incredible powerful thing and there are so many animals.

Three. So Hypnos and his kiddos are an odd butch regarding their mythology and stuff. ( I am going to ramble from the notes of my own research, if someone see a mistake, please correct me.)

So fun fact. Dreams were seen as not a personified thing in most cases in ancient Greece. It seems like it seems any gods could send a dream.

The first time we see any mention of the kiddos is during Roman times in Ovid’s Metamorphoses. A Roman writer in 8ce so at least a couple hundred years from the brozon age.

So the children are a Roman addition, it seems. Not a Greek one

Oneiros do existed in Greek but they were seen children of nyx, brothers to hypnos.

So I decided to do a Stanley Pines and write myself a permit to do whatever I want lol.

Tbh I thought of other children for hypnos (along the the attendants becoming their unofficial adopted kids as well)

So maybe the thousands of kids will end up being true. Hahaha.

[firstofthenewguardians]

God of War: Echoes of Suffering

(Chains of Olympus Rewrite)

5 years into his service to the gods, Persians attack Greece and Kratos defends his homeland against the Invasion under the charge of Athena. After driving the Invaders back, Kratos receives a vision from Athena attempting to warn him, but it is quickly cut off as the sun disappears. Now Kratos has to fight off a horde of living nightmares manifesting from an endless black fog.

The Ghost of Sparta was nearly enveloped by the black fog, until a small figure drove them away with a blast of light. The small figure in question looks almost exactly like Kratos’ deceased daughter, Calliope. Kratos tries to reach out to her in melancholic desperation, but she runs away, Kratos giving chase after his shock fades.

Kratos chases his “daughter” throughout the city until they reach a massive structure that looks as if it almost crashed into the ground. Inside the temple, Kratos is haunted by the melody of his daughter’s flute echoing through the halls. He was almost driven to the brink of madness until A woman drenched in red and orange light appeared before him, she called herself Eos - Bringer of the Dawn.

She informs Kratos that her brother Helios has been taken by Phobetor - The New master of Dreams, and all the Olympians have been lulled into a never-ending sleep. Few gods are awake to rule, so the world has been plunged into chaos.

Eos requests that Kratos use the Primordial Fire within the temple to release the Fire Drakons in exchange for a favor. 

Once the Fire Drakons began to burn once more the temple glowed with blinding light, Kratos realizes he’s on the sun and tried to rein in the burning beasts, but his hands burned the second he touched the reins.

Just then Eos appears in front of Kratos and pulls reins of the Fire Drakons pulling the Sun Chariot to the sky driving back the horde of nightmares that enveloped the cities. Once they reached the heavens Eos informed Kratos that her brother was taken to the Underworld and he would need to get there in order to save him. Kratos argued why she could not have gone there herself, replying that as a goddess of light she had no power in the sunless realm. Kratos reluctantly agrees to the request in hopes that Eos would convince the other gods to free him from his suffering. 

Eos contacts Hermes, one of the few gods still awake, and transports Kratos to the Underworld where he arrives on the shores of the River Acheron where he meets a soul which at first glance reminds him of an old friend from his Spartan days.

After short greetings the soul offers to be Kratos' guide to Phobetor, just then a blaring sound is heard and all souls on the shore gather to a dock. In the distance a gigantic boat appeared with a titanic figure at the helm; the guide refers to the figure as Charon, The Ferryman. Just before the boat was about to dock the guide cast a spell on Kratos to conceal his identity as a living, but once the shade cast the spell Kratos felt himself getting weak. Once they got onto the ferry they were accompanied by dozens, possibly hundreds of other souls each with blank or unmoving expressions.

The journey lasted for what seemed like days and during the trek Kratos fell into a slumber, in his dreams he saw his wife and child slaughtered by his own hand. It wasn't only them, his mother and his brother were among the bodies that were felled by his blades. As he breathes erratically, he can hear a voice taunting him from the dream's darkness, calling him a brute, a savage, a monster.

Just as the boat docks Kratos wakes up, he looks around and realizes that he and the guide are the only ones left on the vessel. The Guide and Kratos looked out past the dock and the only thing that could be made out was sand, nothing but swirling sand. The guide tells Kratos that this is Desert of Dreams; the section of the underworld where Phobetor has taken over. As the two arrive they are assaulted by a plethora of lesser Oneiroi and living nightmares which they must rip through to make it to the Ebon Citadel, Phobetor’s greatest fortress.

After barely surviving, they encounter an old man, sticking out amongst the almost infinite gold with wings of gray sand. He told the two traveler’s that Phobetor cannot be killed so they need something to contain him. Just then the elder began to dissolve into the sand but before he completely disappeared he left them with a small piece of advice,that they must confront the darkness in order to wake up. 

Once the old man left a glowing amulet took his place, Kratos grabbed the jewel and the two continued on. After fighting through even more nightmares they reached the top of the citadel.

Once the two got to the top and opened the doors, they witnessed Phobetor: an amalgamation of screaming black faces forming a vaguely human shape, exactly wht a god of nightmares would look like. There, he was siphoning the energy of a tortured Helios.

The nightmare god had his back turned to them but the second Kratos and The Guide entered the room he lunged at them both with terrifying speed. Kratos used his blades to slice the spectator but it was pointless the creature mended every attack. It was then that Kratos realized that the amulet could be used to harm the god. As the spartan brought the nightmare to his knees, he used the amulet to imprison the horrible spector. After it was done, the Guide that had followed Kratos for most of his journey; began to laugh in an ominous way, calling Kratos the Great Tool of Sparta as the drkness left from Phobetor entered the soul's body. Kratos was then transported to a field surrounding by glowing golden sand, there he heard the song, the same one that had been haunting him, only now it was sounded more comforting.  

Because of Phobetor's great acquisition of power, the Desert of Dreams had exapanded into parts of Elysium, and so, Phantasos transported Kratos to a little Oasis, and there Kratos was shocked to see the one thing he though he never see again: his daughter, Calliope. The two of them embraced in a hug, and for a short while, the Ghost of Sparta felt joy. Unfortunately for Kratos, this Joy was short-lived, Calliope began to wince in pain, her being fading in and out of existence as the sand grows ever closer. Just then, a woman drenched in warm inviting light appears before Kratos and his daughter, this was Makaria, first born of Hades and Persephone, Goddess of Blessed and Peaceful death, and Queen of Elysium. The goddess had informed Kratos who his "Old Spartan friend" really was: Phantasos, Master of Illusions, and the mastermind behind this whole conundrum.

Makaria explained everthing. Wanting the power to control the waking world, Phantasos manipulated Phobetor into overthrowing their brother Morpheus and seizing control of the Desert of Dreams. By consuming the power of his brother had taken, Phantasos’ power grew exponentially, allo him to lull the gods into a deep almost unending slumber. Now Phantasos had the power of the dream realm, the sun itself, and the Ghost of Sparta in his grasp. Now he wishes to let the Desert of Dreams consume everything until he and only he was the supreme god.

Kratos had to come to an impossible crossroad of descisions: stay in this fleeting paradise with his daughter forever while another mad god tries to take over the world, or leave Calliope, again. He didn't have a choice, but in his mind, in that moment, he chose to leave her. It took all of his strength to pry his daughter away, as she cried and begged him not to, but it was the only way. With tears in both eyes, the mighty and powerful Ghost of Sparta hugged his daughter one last time. Makaria gently extended her hand and Calliope went with her to Elysium.

Kratos made his way back to the citadel, agrier now than ever before. As he entered the building Phantasos tried to keep up the illusion of Kratos' spartan friend but it was pointless, the ghost of sparta usd the amulet to reveal Phantasos' true form, a cloud of smoke with shifting masks for faces, he threw daggers at Kratos in retaliation.

The illusion master used Kratos’ worst nightmares as weapons, visions of his wife and child berated him until he was brought to the floor. Only through his sheer rage was Kratos able to break through the illusions, and attack Phantasos.

Their fight broke Phobetor’s castle and brought them to the Desert of Dreams and Phantasos hid within the flowing sands, mocking the Spartan. Only after the dream god dared to say that Calliope deserved to die was Kratos able to grab Phantasos and pummel him into the ground. As The Ghost of Sparta pulled out the amulet, Phantasos, using all of his power, cursed the man with eternal nightmares, and just before the Illusion Master was sucked into the amulet, he berated the now broken warrior, telling him that his suffering shall never end.

Once the two Oneiroi were imprisoned within the amulet, the gigantic sandstorm that enveloped the desert began to settle and the elder from earlier appeared in the center where the citadel once stood, and and the swirling sands of the storm coelesed around the man showing the form of a gray figure with enormous wings, revealing himself to be Morpheus, the God of Dreams, he thanked Kratos for relieving him of his brothers, but it fell on deaf ears. Kratos begged the god of dreams to free him of his curse, but unfortunately it was impossible. Morpheus explained that Phantasos had his own power combined with Phobetor's and the power of the sun, nothing can remove Kratos' curse not even Morpheus.

Keeping his own promise to the gods, Kratos returns Helios to the temple. But he is left with the knowledge that he we never be free, forever plagued with visions of his family.

Weak from the days of battle, Kratos falls unconscious from the sun chariot, but is suddenly stopped before striking the ground. He was placed on the cliffs he later would jump from in the original God of War. Three figures approach the unconscious warrior, two of them revealed to Helios and Athena. The Gray Goddess retrieves the amulet as the Sun Titan removes the spell placed on the Spartan. Both Gods contemplate helping Kratos further but a shadowy figure behind them interjects saying that the Ghost of Sparta must “Walk his path alone.” The three beings exit through a portal leaving Kratos lying on the shore near the Aegean Sea. 

[ryqoshay]

Putting on Hairs: Post Production - Theater Infiltrator

Primary Pairing: N/A Starring: Dia Also Starring: Saito, Phobetor Rating: T Words: 674 AU: Theater, Monsters Prompt: Company

---------

Summary: Dia investigates an infiltrator at her theater

Author's Note: Primary entry for the 14th

---------

“Kurosawa-sama.” A voice emanated from the æther.

Dia’s eyes snapped open. “What’s wrong, Phobetor-san?”

“You asked me to inform you of incidents involving the individual known as Saito-san.” The fallen angel’s familiar explained. “She is attempting to infiltrate the theater.”

“I see. Thank you.” Dia sat up.

“I will be informing my Master next.”

“Of course. Please tell Yoshiko-san that I will take care of this matter.”

“Understood.”

Dia pushed out of bed, changed quickly, and found an artifact gifted to her by Nozomi. It would allow her to teleport to the theater from anywhere, and while it was nice to expedite the morning commute, it was very useful in emergencies such as this.

---------

Saito slipped her lockpicks into her pocket. Then, she crossed her fingers and pulled open the door. No alarm. Well, no audible alarm. She would still want to be out quick just in case.

After Umi had confirmed she, and others employed at the theater, were monsters, Saito decided she needed tangible evidence to prove as such to her editors. And to the public at large. Umi’s threat of leaving her in the Void had to be risked for the sake of revealing the truth.

She wasn’t quite sure what she was looking for, but trusted she would know when she saw something.

Something landed on her shoulder. A tentacle? Wha…

---------

Once again, Saito was surrounded by nothingness.

“So, this is your greatest fear.” A voice came from everywhere and nowhere.

It could have been Dia’s voice, but it sounded deeper, more… monstrous.

“So, you’re a Void thing as well.”

“I am not.” Dia materialized before Saito.

Saito’s gaze was first drawn to the tentacles sprouting from Dia’s bulbous head. It was like someone had replaced her head with the full body of an octopus. Her purplish skin shimmered with a sheen, suggesting it was slick with something. And her eyes. Saito swallowed hard as searing emerald seemed to bore into her very soul.

“And this is not the Void.” Dia continued. “This is your own mind. Specifically, your greatest fear. It would seem your encounter with Umi had an impact.”

Saito sneered.

“Yet you did not heed her warning.”

“The people deserve to know the truth.” Saito stated. “Monsters live among them.”

“Not all truths need be known to all people.” Dia replied.

“They need to know that they are in danger!” Saito insisted.

“Humans and monsters have peacefully coexisted for over a century and a half. At least here in Japan.” Dia explained. “As with any integration of differing groups, even strictly among humans, there have been some incidents. Thus, groups have formed to monitor and address these incidents.”

“And who watches the watchers?” Saito asked.

“If you truly wish to know more, I can have one such group contact you.”

“And I shall write on my findings.”

“I would advise against such actions.”

Saito scoffed. “Of course you do. You’re just trying to protect you and your fellow monsters.”

“Umi-san and I have indeed sworn to protect our company, and more importantly, those we employ, to the best of our abilities.” Dia said. “In fact, that is why I am here. I cannot have one such as yourself snooping around our theater.”

“Afraid I’ll show everyone what despicable creatures you are?”

Dia sighed. “I shall reach out to the local Hunter chapter. You may expect a visit from one of their members as early as tomorrow.”

“Hunters, eh? Oh, I’ll be sure to tell them they need to hunt down every last one of you beasts.”

“Enough.”

Saito’s world went black.

---------

Saito opened her eyes.

Looking around, she realized she was in her bed. What a strange dream. Or was it? What had it been about again? Had it actually been a dream? She shook her head, trying to lift the fog in her mind. It didn’t feel like dreams she had forgotten before. Rather, this felt like something had consumed a part of her memory.

Then a knock came from her apartment door.

---------

Author's Note Continued: The theater was the first company that came to mind with this prompt. However, I do not recall why I decided to go this route with it. Maybe I was itching to use one of the prior prompts and/or was worried about not being able to use them later in the event? I dunno, but this was not exactly how I intended to reveal Dia's monster type. Que zura, zura.

Mind you, I have dropped a hint or two so far, e.g., I've had Dia mention that she sensed someone's mind at least twice so far.

Anyway, for Dia and Umi, I wanted two monster types I could easily use to let them defend their theater and employees. And while I've long forgotten why I made Umi a void beast, I do recall wanting either her or Dia to be an illithid. This was so they could maintain a sort of "Someone Else's Problem" field around the theater to help prevent patrons from learning the truth about the monstrous nature of the employees should something happen during a production. This would also allow the use of monster powers as special effects and them being more easily explained away as theater magic.

Prior Prompts Used: Dream Memory Forgotten

[spacecadetspe]

Nov. 21, 2024

Another dark night before the dawn. Time may not heal all wounds, but the wounds do heal.

I've been watching Re: Zero lately, and I came to an episode where the main character is so traumatized by what is happening to him that he enters a state of madness and despair.

And... I felt that. Deeply. In the past handful of years, I've watched my whole life do a massive turnaround, and not always for the better. My business partner and godfather of my son died by Samael's hand, his business closed, and I lost my job. I left a ten-year marriage and moved in with my mother. I fought my way through my divorce and a year of EMDR. I lost my best friend and fellow Virtue, Patience, to pride, cowardice, and anger. My beloved Phobetor pushed me away so far I contemplated suicide. I've come and gone from multiple jobs. I lost my grandmother, and this year, Morpheus died and my beloved pet was diagnosed with cancer.

And it all seemed so pointless. It was too heavy to bear. I watched the show until midnight, and then watched my dog weave and wobble and totter back to the bedroom to go to bed. She's refusing the food in her bowl, and hadn't had pain medicine since she ran out a week ago. She lay down next to the bed, and I kept my hand on her back until nearly one in the morning.

As I lay there in the dark, thinking of all the things weighing me down, I kept thinking how I've been trying to move forward despite all the resistance.

If I could just get Fortitude to do something about his record... "You don't have any right to ask him to do that. You don't have a job, and he's supporting you."

If I could just have a place to live that wasn't so expensive... "So move back in with your mom if it's so important."

If I could only have a productive job... "So teaching isn't productive or important?"

If only I could cure my dog's cancer... "Just because you CAN do anything doesn't mean you should. Just because it isn't nice doesn't mean it isn't right."

I cried myself to sleep. I cried out for help from wherever I could get it. Michael. Anshel. Morpheus. Whoever would listen.

Michael showed up and grabbed me by the arm and half-dragged me to see Raphael. The latter clicked his tongue at me; I had dislocated one of my wings, and the cracks in my chakras had grown infected again, despite having several astral guides' help fixing them.

When I woke up, it was all over. The pain had settled somewhere outside my body, and my emotions had stabilized. The only remaining discomfort was my period, which was a little easier to do something about.

Upon my descent from my chambers, I walked into a heated discussion about where the dream spirits stood in the scheme of things; whether they were acting according to Nature's will, or meddling in affairs that would affect the future.

After trying to calm them all down, one of the dreamlings asked what their father would do... and I didn't know. So I thought to ask someone who knew Morpheus better than I did; the Rejoicer, his astral guide.

She revealed that Morpheus had long since figured out how to reintegrate and keep his form; he'd just been staying in the Sanctuary with her and several other guides. And she was allowing us to see him.

I was hit with a feeling of mild annoyance that he hadn't returned, despite my repeated pleas. I spent every night in his bed, and... it wasn't as warm without him. But I walked through the door all the same, and there he was. There were new markings on his face; designs from the astral that marked him as a student of the Divine Sage. He opened his arms, and for the first time in months, I held him again.

"I missed you, you jerk," I whispered.

He petted my hair sweetly. "I figured you could use one less jerk hanging around," he replied.

"You always make up for it somehow."

His children swarmed him, knocked him to the ground to cuddle him. And even Njorun came in, grudgingly at first, and finally deigned to give him a big hug too.

I'll admit I'm still miffed that he didn't join us again, but he will. He says he'll see me again at Muspelheim. He's learned to process Astral Guides, and Surtr is next. There's a certain weapon that's going to take extra power to create; one that will rival the Reckoning. The Iniquity of the Ages.

With all this going on... I'm going to need more sleep.

I hope after all this, Phobetor will still see me. He doesn't seem like the jealous type, but... the anxiety lingers.

At least, with all that weight gone, I'm feeling kinder. I trust Fortitude more. And I won't push so hard for a future that's not ready for me.

Time. Time will bring it to me.

[elysiumxii]

Phobetor can steadily feel the choking cloak of fear lift, and steadily ebb away from the other god, as he touches his warm skin and helps send a lifeline for him to drag himself out of that terrifying quagmire. It was quite the acute reaction to just a little darkness. Especially for someone that could conjure light! There was much more to be understood here and it seems as if Baldur was doing nothing to help fix himself, but instead was thrown into these panics and rendered utterly lost by them.

Soon the lights flicker back into life and their forms were once more illuminated. The god of nightmares needed very little light to see, so he had already had his sharp gaze on the other god, but as Baldur's lift to him, he sees the look of surprise over take him. Yes, the spooky god of nightmares had not taken advantage of his fear. What a surprise.

His hand remains lifted as Baldur pulls back, fingers slowly curling back in before he steadily lowers his hand, and arches an eyebrow at the rather obvious observation. "So they are.." he murmurs back with his usual droll tone. With the light the idiocy seems to have returned. "A power cut, I believe. There have been a few in this area over the last few days" he still does not appreciate being blamed just because it got a little dark.

Darkness was surrounding him. An embrace that had been unwelcome and now choked him. Every time when the lights went out, Baldur lost all reason and sanity, his only reaction was to spin along with his fear until the light returned or his nightmare ended. When the episodes ended and he awoke, he promised that he would be ready and bring the light himself the next time, but when the fear grabbed him by the throat, Baldur always forgot that he had his power within. Baldur could illuminate the world just by being there.

While lost in his own dark thoughts, Baldur did not feel the other God in the room approaching. Phobetor had always been stealthy —or so the Nordic thought— and perhaps it was part of his nature, but this time Baldur did not even feel him when his fingers touched his temple.

All he could feel during those moments was the invisible hands pressing down on his throat and preventing him from breathing, slowly releasing. His heart calmed down, his heartbeat returning to normal. The eyes of the God of Light were closed as he only followed the velvety voice of Phobetor guiding him out of his fear and out of his waking nightmare, where the Greek was the villain but also the hero saving him from the abyss.

As his mind and heart found serenity, the public restroom's lights began to flicker, slowly relighting the dark walls and the faces of the two trapped Gods. Baldur opened his eyes, the lights stabilized along with him, and he could finally see the other in front of him, touching his skin and commanding calm.

Baldur swallowed the saliva that had accumulated in his mouth, but his heart skipped a beat, and the chill running through his body warned him. A different warning, his cheeks changed colour and took on a pink hue, all Baldur could react to was to take a step back, away from the tall presence of nightmares.

"Shit-" was all that came out of his mouth, not because Phobetor was hurting him, but because now what the God of Fears was making him feel was a different sensation, one that Baldur was not used to. "I mean- what I'm trying to say is... the light is back." He stumbled, his feet and his words stumbled over themselves.

Baldur had lost his stability completely, and this time, it was Phobetor's fault.

[mptim]

[ brush ]

nonverbal meme / closed, thank you for your submissions ♥ [ gesture ] phobetor brushes his fingers through tim’s hair

tim fell asleep for a moment. it was not like him to fall asleep in the middle of the day while waiting for someone, but he has had sleepless nights. the stress of the upcoming competitions and exams got to him, and made it impossible for him to have a goodnight sleep. actually, he probably slept about three hours in the last forty-eight hours. he stayed up to finish a sculpture and some notes. it was a miracle he even remembered he had to meet the god, but he was taking too long. tim thought it would be safe to close his eyes for just one second, but he ended up falling asleep in his exhaustion. however, he did not sleep for too long.

when he felt cold fingers running through his hair, he was startled awake. but he did not move right away, because he enjoyed the gesture too much. sometimes, he felt like a cat. he opened an eye and noticed the dark figure of the god nearby. he thought it was safe to close his eyes again, and hum a little at the gesture. “do not stop,” he mumbled, it was not like he will fall asleep again. at least he did not think he will. but he wanted to bathe in the affection for a little longer before he had to force himself to wake up and actually participate at this date.

[thelovers-thedreamers-and-me]

phobetor replied to your post: Post the selfie. We thirst.

Bobbie, you know we’re thirsty ass motherfuckers. Give us the selfie. <3

one SEC i'm putting TAGS on it so i get ATTENTION, sheesh

[nanashiii]

Heron x queen!reader

So this is my first fandom contribution ever and even if it sucks I'm happy with it lol, it's kinda of a wip and since english is not my first language...well, it may just worsen the whole thing :,)

@zen-gordon I'm sorry it took so much time to write it 😖😖

↠ Wc: 1.7k

↠ Chapter 1

↠ Warnings: none yet

There was something to be revealed to you, the new queen of the polis, your mother wanted to warn you about who you really are.

She seemed to be delirious that night, it was a celebration, everyone was partying, the Palace in an uproar for some successful hunt or something of the same relevance for the nobles.

"Y/n, my ... daughter, listen to me, please ..." she was disheveled, so different from her usual self, eyes trembling. You thought it was the drink's fault, the wine must have been too strong.

It was a foolish judgment, the queen had been poisoned that same night, during the feast.

You guided her to the royal quarters, your mother's speech becoming more and more vague. And waiting for her to fall asleep, you stared at the night sky.

An eagle watched both of you from the top of a tree, which years before, had been struck by lightning. The bird was abnormally big, aside from the fact that it was nothing nocturnal.

The observation lasted a few minutes - a clash of swords and shields made you jump from the bed, which you have sited next to the queen - the woman lulled into an apparently peaceful sleep.

A maid - Lamia, the queen's most old and loyal lady, entered the room like a gust of wind, her eyes wide and blood on her robes matching her panicked face.

She was crying, her hands trembling as she grabbed yours in an attempt to get you out of the room.

You were on your feet instantly.

"My sweet child." The maid sobbed. "I can't let them kill you too."

"What?!" You felt the air escaping your lungs way too fast.

"The king is dead ... the queen ..." the woman staggered, trying to contain her crying. "Poisoned. There was poison in her food and drinks and ..."

The world seemed to shatter around you, at least, you world, the servant's words becoming distant murmurs. You turned, almost falling on the queen's bed, grabbing a hand that was already cold and purple with some grotesque poison.

Before a scream broke from your throat, someone covered your mouth, dragging you out of the room. You couldn't tell if it was the maid or a guard. Everything looked like a blur between tears, howls and a metallic smell that was beginning to approach.

The guards who remained in the stable placed you at the maid's side upon two black steeds, assuring that they would follow the new queen, you, soon. But first they would need to find the murderer.

The night had never seemed so terrifying to you, but Lamia tightened her knuckles, her eyes red with tears lit by the moon.

"We will take refuge in the Palace of your Aunt, in the neighboring polis." She will give you all the support you need." Lamia said, looking back one last time, you followed her movement.

Something in your heart seemed to sunk, as if someone had staked it there, tears flowed hot, sobs broke out and somehow now your horse was on the trail of the other steed.

It was a nightmare, Phobetor was playing with you.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>><<<<<<<<<<<<<<

He wasn't.

The next morning was so real that you almost felt ill. Taken by the shock, you arrived at your Aunt's palace in the polis that had heavy rain clouds but, strangely, didn't let not even one drop touch the soil. Even so, nothing seemed to matter at that moment, you were guided to a new room, an aunt dismayed and angry at what they did to her brother, shouted orders to your own remaings guards and when things calmed down days later, she decided that you coronation should be done there and soon.

The aid of a noble should always be questioned, she would probably ask for favors during the next years, but you couldn't even bear the thoughts of dealing with it, so the best option was to ignore your aunt's apparently innocent help.

"My queen, may I suggest something?" Lamia mumbled, she have spent more time by your side since that cursed night.

She couldn't ignore your current state, the sleepless nights and nocturnal fears were claiming it's own price. There were always creeping nightmares waiting for you, so the wandering nights inside your aunt's palace seemed much more appealing than a nightmare filled sleep. Soon both of you would need to go back to your truly palace, it seemed that your aunt's mercy was coming to an end more quickly than what you have expected.

"What is it?" You didn't even blinked an eye as you replied to the maid, one commotion down the plebe stands catching your attention as the sound of shouting voices started to reach your ears.

It seemed like a group of men harassing a lonely woman - well she looked a bit like an outcaster there, with everyone turning their eyes to the explicit violence against her.

"A guard's switch, my queen." Lamia approached your side.

What was making her so absorbed after all? The servant questioned herself, seeing nothing but a normal day at the polis.

"I think that, with a personal guard selected by yourself will bring you some peace, most nobles do this when they ascend to the throne" Lamia explained.

When the woman was brutally pushed by one of the five men, an young man appeared, he came running and as fast as he reached the group, he punched and even used a knife at some point. Almost slicing someone's throat.

He helped the woman to rise again, with some caution.

The two left, disappearing from your view.

I may need warriors like this one.

No...

I need this one.

He was ...

"I accept your suggestion, Lamia, can you organize everything so I can meet and choose them during the next week?"

"Of course my dear queen, I'll start it immediately." Lamia bowed, now questioning what could possibly have happened for the queen's complexion to light up. Nonetheless what has caused it she was glad for.

"And Lamia, make sure that they know about how generous the new queen is when it comes to payments."

"Yes, I'll be sure they hear about it" the servant bowed a second time and then left you, it didn't take too much time to another servant to come and replace her.

Your thoughts seemed to run more wildly as the day passed by.

The sudden attraction to the man made you question yourself, was it because he was the one who made you wake up from an aphatic state?

You weren't sure.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>><<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Zeus, in this case and in this form, Elias, was once again wandering drunkenly through the streets of the polis, enjoying the few pleasures that an old mortal could give himself and also maintaining his disguise.

He had overheard the conversation of one of the servants of the new queen, queen who was Demeter's and a mortal's daughter mortal which the goddess decided to deny the existence, handing her daughter over to a sterile human queen.

A demigod, just like his own son.

The two shared a strangely similar past, even when it came to traumatizing nights.

The disguised god walked back to his lover and son's home, the new queen's offer was too tempting for Heron to refuse, no matter how stubborn he could be. He had declined Alexia's offer, and perhaps the regret would make him choose right this time.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>><<<<<<<<<<<<<

Lamia had organized everything just as the queen asked, her aunt did not hide the relief that you were leaving soon and wandered happily around the room in which the three of you were.

"The men in my polis make great guards, excellent warriors." the mourning for her brother had dissipated quickly, and it also increased your desire to leave that place, now the cloudy clouds seemed to worsen your mood.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>><<<<<<<<<<<<<<

You were waiting for them inside a kind of canopy like bed, Lamia had murmured something about only the selected ones seeing your face. It was a strange security issue and the day was particularly hot making you hate the stupid idea even more. But there was something, making your afternoon a little more tolerable.

The chance of seeing him again.

A few remaining men from your old guard positioned themselves near the door and soon it was opened, the first candidate entering the room, an undoubtedly strong man, but it wasn't the one you're seeking to see.

Your frustration almost materialized right there, and a doubt arose, what made you believe that he would appear?

As you were selecting the most competent ones, or at least apparently competent, your hope of seeing him again was being drained as the hours passed by, soon you would have to leave the polis and perhaps you should have to accept the fact that you would not see him again.

Besides, as a new queen there would be more important things to deal with, and soon this sudden...

The door opened again, the last one to be chosen and you had to control yourself not to tear the canopy.

It was him.

You were silent for a while, observing every possible detail through the fine fabric, his frame but what has made you literally frozen were his eyes - a vibrant blue, as if the sky and the ocean were inside those irises.

"My queen?" A servant called, waking you from your almost trance.

You composed yourself. Continuing with the same questions I had repeated so many times earlier.

"Your name?"

"It's Heron."

"Well Heron, you must already know I'm not from this polis, even so, are you willing to work as one of my guards?"

Tension filled your brain, after all he could simply deny it, you remembered the woman he helped, could she possibly be a relative?

He stayed silent for some seconds, his face was doubt itself but soon with was replaced by calm and determination.

"Yes, I'm willing too." Heron replied.

"Great." your response didn't matched the sheer happiness that you were feeling. You proceeded with the other questions about what weapon could he wield, combat experience...

You weren't really listening to Heron's answers, still mesmerized simply by seeing him close enough, even so, you managed to inform him that you all would be departing soon and he should prepare for doing so.

"You can go now."

He left the room and so did you, watching from a safe distance as he kept walking down the aisle, there was definitely something different about him.

Something that seemed weirdly familiar to you.

What was it?

[elysiumxii]

Quelling his discomfort, Phobetor forces himself to face his problem head on, quite literally. With a small tilt of his chin, his eyes slowly follow suit and two, obsidian black orbs lift to Zeus' as they stare so intently at him. Fear was unquantifiable for him, but this discomfort and unease was palpable. Zeus embodied so many problems for him. This attention, it put him and his friends at risk and he had been frantically hiding from it for so long, it was foolish of him to now appreciate that Zeus would realise.

"You honour me with your complements" he says softly, diplomatically, with a small bob of his head forward. To refuse Zeus' advances too outwardly would be a mistake, as after all he was as volatile as the storms he represents. Zeus has so many beautiful things to enjoy... why could he not have simply grown tired? Perhaps it was for the very reason that Phobetor had never given in, he had made himself a conquest.

Before he is able to answer questions on why he had hidden, a body steps to his side, a bottle of red shown and he glances down at the label with a small nod and a soft "thank you". The silence to that question filled with the squeak of a cork as it is steadily unplugged, and their glasses begin to be filled. Phobetor's gaze returning to Zeus', as the liquid glugs into their glasses. A moments repreieve for his brain to work, though as usual, even his wit is laid to waste in Zeus' company.

With the glasses soon full, he spares a small nod of thanks to their waiter, before reaching out to pluck his own glass by the stem, and lift it from the table. "May I propose a toast, to your storms darkening the sky-" he hums softly with a small smile, before he lifts the glass to them to take a sip. Of course, being a creature of the night, he liked dark skies...

Zeus nods at the offer of wine — red — but already thinks less of the quality before he’s even seen bottle or brand. Nothing could compare to the vines managed, maintained, and harvested by his great son, Dionysus. Nothing ever could. But it is the gesture that appeases him more so than the wine itself. Even more appealing is the one who provides him this courtesy. As sturdy and still as an ancient mountain, the God King does not so much as shift in his seat now. Instead he watches Phobetor as one would watch a wild and exotic pet bird kept in a gilded cage. Would it sing? Would it try to fly again? Would it cower upon its perch with its heart beating out of its chest? He waits to find out. 

Aside from whatever action Phobetor may or may not take, the elder god notes just how beautiful of a thing he has become. From a mere wisp of smoke to the corporeal, breathing, breath-taking creature he beholds now, he would not have believed it if he had not already bared witness to the great feats of his fantastical pantheon. Perhaps he ignores the fear Phobetor houses within himself, or perhaps Zeus does not notice it at all. Be it either, he has no hesitation about voicing his praises for the other. The wine would come in its own time; he needn’t any to voice his opinion, nor does he politely pause in speaking when the server returns to their table. 

“You have become quite the beauty. I saw this potential in you since the days of old. How is it that you’ve hidden such from me for so long,” he tests, only half-expecting an actual answer. It would be no stretch for Phobetor to feel admiring eyes upon him, picking him apart down to the bone. The miles and miles of leg as they cross do not go missed. Zeus notes the tailored clothing and the way it clings to slender thighs, wraps comfortably around Phobetor’s narrow waist, and feeds even higher into his long torso and broad shoulders. 

“How fine a figure, and yet you continue to hide in the small, dark corners of the world. This is such a waste, Phobetor,” Zeus gently scolds with an absent stroke this beard. When his gaze finally crawls up his escort’s person, they settle upon the wide, doe-like and nervous eyes that seem reluctant to linger upon him. That reverence and fear is delicious, but devouring this handsome entity would taste so much better. 

@elysiumxii

[elysiumxii]

Mr. Phobetor, even though it’s unnecessary, what Halloween costume most interests you to wear?

“Oh, I see this is going to continue… well I suppose you may have 5 minutes before Anubis arrives to shoo you away” the god sighs before sitting back, folding one long leg over the other as he looks back at his guest.

“Perhaps, something amusing in its contrast to my usual self? Such as.. an angel? I hear that is does not necessarily need to be rightful. Though me in all that white sounds frightful enough…”

[phobetorxmp]

Nightmare Help | cont from here w/ @mpairmid ft Phobetor & Airmid 

Lifting an eyebrow as the woman leans against him, Phobetor’s chin lowers a little to gaze down at her, before chuckling softly as he sees that dreamy look of alcohol clouding such lovely eyes. It was no wonder the men around her seemed helpless but to try and impress her, more than likely annoying her with their enthusiasm. Still, hearing that someone had irritated her, Phobetor is more than happy to step in and help. 

“My sobering face?” He replies, eyebrow arching even higher before he takes her hand gently from his cheek and presses a kiss to her knuckles. “Why, I thought I looked positively giddy tonight” He replies, but quickly his lips are cracking with a smirk, showing his tease. “Watch this” he whispers, before his eyes lower to his feet and with a gentle wave of his hand a shadow breaks away from their joined casting on the floor. Quickly it moves, like a shape under water, across the floor and through the many feet, to find the man who had been antagonising the goddess with his irritating attempts to woo her. 

Not long later there is a yell of terror, his trick having come to fruition, leaving the god to chuckle happily. A harmless trick, as the man is yelling in the distance “did you see that?!” His frantic cries confusing those around him and causing a ripple of chuckles as they watch him. 

[smallraindrops-blog]

Y/N and Hypnos with a demigod!child, who looks almost identical to Y/N, their eyes hold the same intensity, but the child’s eyes are the same color as Hypnos’ 🫶🏻

I’m obsessed with this oc you created demigod!child is just jjgjfjjsnswhwh SO SO PERFECT

Putting my reply under a readmore

aww, I’m glad you love them. Like i said, you the reason they exist so have fun with them.

Yeah, twins are hereditary, but only for fraternal twins. It doesn’t apply to identical twins, I think. Icelos and Phantasos are fraternal twins in WMFTD.

And that is actually how Phobetor looks, like Y/N with Hypnos’ eye color. He also doesn’t have any scars like his father, and will actually be taller and a little more bulkier than his father by the time he is done growing. 

But maybe the Demigod twins could be more like Hypnos, more slender with curls but with their coloring leaning toward Y/n’s with Hypnos’ eye colors (I headcanon that all of Hypnos’ children will have some shade of golden eyes.)

if the demigod has a twin, maybe they won’t become a god. Or if they do, maybe it will be a god for something like the out-of-body-experience.  Which I imagine mortals would have mixed feeling about the demigod twins.

Also LMAO i think this how Hypnos ended with like a thousand children in the mythology.

[exmpairmid]

sacrifice ;;

@phobetorxmp continued from here:

Humming softly as he reclines back in his Nordic design leather arm chair, Phobetor slowly swirls the dribble of red Merlot gathering dust in the bottom of his glass. The grape sloshing a he aerates it with little regard for bringing the glass to his lips any time soon, as he gazes away, deep in thought. With one long leg folded over the other, his foot idly bounces, before he is brought back to earth by a voice as his dark gaze again focuses. “Would you say I am overly chatty normally?” He hums, teasing smirk lightly tugging at the corner of his lips as his eyes linger, head tilting a little.

“I was thinking...” he explains a moment later, on a deep sigh as he lifts his strong gaze from the goddess keeping him company, over to the many books stacked high on his shelves. “The old days, do you miss them?” He muses aloud, before another playful smirk tugs at his lips as his chin drops and gazes falls to her once more. “Did you ever receive young men as sacrifice?” He teases, grin only widening.

visiting phobetor is not something she does often of her own accord - usually he is the one somehow initiating these meetings - but after being gone for six months, it seemed like a thing to do that would bring a smile to the other god’s face.

theirs was a long acquaintanceship, and though at the very beginning she’d been wary of him, that had slowly changed over time, until they came to the point where they are now; visiting each other and having conversation over a glass of wine - or several glasses, more like.

she scoffs when he asks if she thinks he’s overly chatty most of the time, but deigns a reply unnecessary - they both know she will nod her head and he will take it as a sign to keep coming around and to keep talking regardless. she doesn’t really know how his mind works. which is proven once more when he continues talking, asking her those questions. those ridiculous questions.

“you may be able to give people nightmares, mo caraidh, but don’t think even for a second that i can’t make your every day life a waking nightmare should you piss me off.” her eyebrows rise ever so slightly above the glass of wine she brings to her lips to take another sip. the threat has long lost its venom, having become more of a running joke between them now than anything else. but once upon a time she’d said it and meant it, and it had been her only defense against a greek god whose essence pulsed at her in dangerous vibrations.

“we did not ask for sacrifice. people did not fear us, unlike your kind. if they needed our help they just had to ask and they would repay us with food, with clothes, with whatever their hands could make. i was not a god as you are, droch-aisling, i had no wish to rule nor enslave.” she lowers her glass to the little table at her side, as her lips curl into something of a teasing grin of her own.

“and even if i had and i did receive male sacrifices,” she says then, “i would most certainly not tell you about them. you’d be too enamored.”

[ryqoshay]

Tri-Arame: A Bone to Bite

Primary Pairing Trio: YuuAyuSetsu Rating: G Words: 576 Fandom: Love Live Nijigasaki Parent Fic: Tri-Arame Time Frame: Sometime after college Event: Promptober 2022 Event Source: Idol Fanfic Heaven channel on Discord Prompt: Ninja

---------

Author’s Note: Bonus 2nd entry for Oct 15th

Summary: The trio head to the pet shop with their cats

---------

“Welcome back, Seiiki-chan, Yasashii-chan!” The pet store clerk greeted the grey and black cats running up to him before stooping to pet them. His gaze then followed the leashes up to the humans who held them. “Always good to see you three as well.” He said as he stood.

At the sound of a familiar voice, the cat in Yuu’s arms turned and extended a paw out toward the man.

“There we are, Kyuuka-chan.” He said, accepting the exchange of a pink furball.

Ayumu smiled as she watched Yuu’s cat nuzzle into the arms of one of the few people she trusted outside their household. “We were hoping you were working today, Ryoushi-san” She greeted the clerk.

“What can I help you find today?”

“Seiiki managed to break her harness.” Ayumu explained. “Which is why she’s wearing Kyuuka’s. So, we need to find something stronger for her.”

“And we would like to get a similar one for Yasashii-san.” Setsuna added. “I’m surprised she hasn’t managed to break or wriggle out of hers.”

“I see, so you two are being troublemakers again.” Ryoushi said, chuckling as his playful accusation was met by a pair of innocent looks from the cats at his feet. “Well, let’s go see what we have in stock.”

Two fittings, several treats, and much affection later, the cats were exploring the toy aisle with their humans.

“Let’s see what they have…” Ayumu spoke as she examined the display before she felt a tug on her leash. “Eh? Seiiki?” She found her cat trying to dig into a different display. “Seiiki, no, those are dog toys. The cat toys are on this side of the aisle.”

The grey cat pawed at a bin of chew toys meant for small dogs.

“You want this one?” Ayumu questioned, picking up a decidedly plain toy in the stereotypical shape of a femur.

“Merow!” Seiiki responded, trying to take the toy from her.

“Alright, if you insist.” Ayumu laughed. “But you can’t have it yet, I have to buy it first.”

“Merow!” Seiiki clearly cared nothing for human social expectations.

Ayumu glanced up to see Yuu had selected a soft mouse toy for Kyuuka, which was already being held in the paws of its soon-to-be owner. Setsuna had found a colorful ribbon teaser toy which she was already using to entice Yasashii to play with.

“Alright, I guess I can let you have it now.” Ayumu let her cat take the toy. “But I’m going to need to take it back for a moment so the cashier can ring it up.”

“Did we all find something?” Yuu asked.

“We’re ready.” Setsuna replied.

“Us too.” Ayumu agreed.

As they all headed toward checkout, Ayumu couldn’t help being amused by Seiiki’s proud prance as she carried her new toy.

---------

“It’s good to be home.” Setsuna said, stooping to remove her shoes before kneeling next to her cat.

No sooner had Setsuna unclipped the harness, than Yasashii leaped toward Seiiki. She snatched the toy from the other cat’s mouth and disappeared into the house like a tiny, furry ninja. The five who remained stood in silent shock.

“Yasashii-san!” Setsuna called. “Come back with that! Seiiki-san, Ayumu-san, I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Setsuna-chan.” Ayumu assured as she removed her cat’s harness as well. “Go find her, Seiiki!” She encouraged. “Get your toy back.”

Seiiki didn’t have to be told twice and ran off to pursue the bone thief.

---------

Author’s Note Continued: I spent wa~y to long deciding a name for the pet shop clerk, when I remembered I already had one for HL. And Yohane and Riko are in Tokyo by the time they bring back Prelude and gain Phobetor. So why not just use him?

Also, I can’t help being amused by Setsuna using -san with the cats. Or by Ayumu talking to Seiiki like she’s a person; iirc myon got me on the headcanon that she talks to Sasuke. Setsuna also talks to the cats as well, because of course she does. Yuu probably ends up doing so as well after so many years of being around the other two who do.