#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.

[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.

[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.

[spacecadetspe]

Oct. 23, 2024

The oneiroi clearly do not like my bosses. The last dream was bad enough. This one was much the same. It painted my other boss at the music school as an active shooter, hiding behind children in an attempt to shield himself from accountability from his actions.

I was warned about this from the teacher who came before me. She said he has a bit of a delusional streak, and will try to bully teachers and parents alike to get them to buy into his performance program.

I didn't think I would see much of it, myself. And now, partially employed though I am, it's begun to make me nervous.

One of my students is seventeen and already has a full plate. She has been a student on and off for the past five years, and her last instructor was more interested in jamming out than teaching her much of anything. So when he finally parted ways with the school, she fell into my lap, so to speak. Unfortunately, she has a long list of activities that she's doing, as well as preparing for standardized testing and helping her mother run the family business, so she'll be quitting at the end of this month.

My boss' complaint was that she was quitting because I hadn't signed her up for the performer program. I spoke to S about this (among other topics) and his reply was "There's no context in which that makes sense." And he's right.

So I'm wondering whether I'll be put in another scapegoat position where I somehow become responsible for the actions or inactions of my students.

I don't want to be unemployed. I want to pursue my passions. I don't want to be idle or anxious, or constantly feel like I'm not wanted in this world. Fortitude says I'm just going through the motions at this point, and it kind of sucks.

I got to snuggle up to Phobetor before he went to bed, at least... maybe I'll sleep soundly tonight.

[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

[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

[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

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

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

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“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.

[elysiumxii]

Sinday Ask: Phobetor, taking into consideration your… preferences, would you be interested in a thorough trouncing from Beomsoo? 👀

"Come in, please, take a seat" Phobetor hums as he sits comfortably, one long leg folded over the other, an espresso cup on a dish in his palm as he lightly bounces his foot. "Sinday was it? How curious-" he muses before lifting the small cup to take a sip.

"That oaf? By the gods, no. A thorough trouncing as you call it sounds to me more like concussion from a headboard. All that beast knows how to do is jab his cock at something. No, he lacks the... experience I enjoy. Lacks the skill of bringing ones partner to submission through that I like to call the three main ingredients of a successful tryst. Restriction, pleasure and of course... pain" his lips slowly curls as he sets the cup back down on the dish.

"Anyone can doll out one singularly, only a true artist can deliver all three. Most can be taught to reach the three semi-successfully and a true maestro can do it all on their own and then... then there are those that are unteachable". Shaking his head a hand lifts to wave the notion of Beomsoo away dismissively.

"You however..." he purrs, leaning forward to set the saucer down on the coffee table as his smirk turns predatory. "I sense you have the ability to make me what I want..."

[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]

Letting himself be pulled up for a kiss, Phobetor enjoys playing with his tongue as Orion's form was all but shaking with his need. It was rather cute, to have him this rattled and desperate. It made him want to tease even more the way the other whines for him. He'd waited for him? He was like a sweet little pet, begging for treats after a job well done.

"Mmm.." Phobetor hums, lightly sucking on his tongue before pulling back to listen to Orion's fragmented thoughts and requests. What he was asking for made complete sense to the god, however, and despite his teasing methods he was happy to comply. He, too, had desired this over the few days they'd been parted. "You want to taste my high?" He whispers against his lips, hand still stroking him but he'd slowed it, keeping it at a brimming pace to keep his pleasure tingling, but not bring him any closer to cumming just yet.

"You have been good, so I shall give you what you want. To start the night off" he nods, because cumming just once wasn't the complete buffet Phobetor intends to give the other. He could feed from him as much as he wants tonight. His body was Orion's play thing until he was full and satiated. Slowly he sits back a little, slipping off his shirt with one hand whilst the other presses against Orion's bare chest, commanding him to lay back once more.

With that done he moves on to slipping down his boxers, tossing them away easily before sitting up onto his knees and turning, throwing a leg over Orion's chest as he does. "You can work for it, however, make me ready to consume" he purrs and slowly bends forward again to lick the underside of Orion's cock from head to base, where it lays hard and needy against the demon's toned abdomen. Lifting his own ass for a tasty starter as he does. A 69 seemed the perfect way to commence, because then they can both feed him with their pleasure.

There are heavy sighs, breathy moans and his body moves, flexes and writhes with the pleasure being fed to him. He needs more after four days of being starved - even if that was an exaggeration and really the last day and half is where he’s felt it most but still - Phobetor is his. At least with his hungry mindset and lust filled gaze those are his thoughts, that he should have been there. Why is he being punished?

Head dipping back and eyes rolling closed as his cock is fisted and the question is asked, stomach flexing as his hips meet his hand as best he can, Orion isn’t ashamed of being desperate in front of Phobetor, Orion can be anything and any position at anytime. If he wants to take this role and tease him until he snaps, fine.

He doesn’t get a chance to answer though, not between a skilled hand and mouth and four days of built up and decaying. He does look to watch his cock lay against such a pretty face, “Fuck, fuck…” grunting the words as he pets back the others hair, his brows pinched as he watches Phobetor keep busy with his sack and Orions cock throbs against his cheek. “I waited for you…” his voice a whine more than anything, sitting up some to pull away though, Orion doesn’t hesitate grabbing Phobetors face and bringing him up to kiss him, fuck cumming at this point. He wants to touch the other now, he’s too hot and charming and good looking and Orions brain can’t concentrate on one thing. Four days makes it easy to work him up, too easy with someone he has built a form of trust with. His lips find the others again, it’s a heated and messy kiss and he doesn’t care if it’s not up to Phobetors standards, Orion wants messy.

“I need you to cum.” Is what he finally breaks the kiss with. Which, was true. Orion fed more off other people’s orgasms but he’s a demon and selfish and wanted his own as well and it definitely didn’t hurt any but he just needs one of them to finish and then he can enjoy the rest of the build up and night. Although is Phobetor wanted he could overpower Orion… “Please… let me… or you…” he doesn’t care who fucks who or how, he staved and it shows. Shaken fingertips trace the others cheek and his other hand palms Phobetors crotch. “I want you.” The switch of word may be unnoticed to all and even to Phobetor but it says something to Orion. Sec is always a need, of course it’s enjoyable in most circumstances but it’s rare for Orion to want it… if killing wasn’t something he was more sick of he’d find another way to keep his form from decaying but there were only two ways… and right now it’s not even as much another himself.

[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.

[spacecadetspe]

A snippet from last year...

Sept. 9, 2023

I'm fully aware of my fallbacks and breaking points.  That being said, it came as a surprise that Aset's incarnation decided to comment on a particularly vulnerable post I made on one of my social media accounts about one of my trauma responses.  The gist of it is that I know my story, my truths, are fantastical, even unbelievable.  It's this knowledge that drives me to work as hard as I do, even to exhaustion; I don't feel like people will believe in me except in that I am reliable when it comes to work.

Her reply lacked any insight I had not already considered; that my reputation is more at risk when I overextend myself and suddenly don't have the energy I need to complete a task, and that I should "know myself" so to speak and recognize where I have the proverbial "spoons" for what is asked of me before I comply.

What set me off was that this very incarnation of hers was the one who rejected me as a spiritual teacher, simply because in my application I came to her with my very vulnerable truths and trauma.  I'm human.  I have trauma.  And I thought honesty would work in my favor instead of having it turned on me like I'm less knowledgable, less reliable as an instructor.  So it was extremely difficult for me to find any compassion for someone who literally triggers that very trauma response to her benefit.

So I came home seething and tired from aches and pains that had plagued me on and off through the week.  I tried to calm myself down and play checkers with W, but that backfired.  He was asking me repeated questions about why we had taken his phone and why he had to do chores, etc.  So I had him sit down and write out what his expenses would be if he were living alone.  Who was going to pay for his car?  Who was going to do his laundry, his dishes, or clean up after him?  

"A maid," he replied.

"Where will you get the money?"

"I'll work with Daddy."

I told him flat-out that a salary like X's doesn't pay for maids.  Or a Bugatti.  Or any of the lifestyle he wants.  And no one he currently relies on is going to be around forever.  He needs to know how to survive before that happens.  But at some point during the conversation, he covered his face.  By now I know that means he's stopped listening, and that just activated the trigger I was trying to calm down from again.

Fortitude appeared and allowed me a break, and I retreated to my bedroom to have a private meltdown.  I drew my weighted blanket up around my shoulders and let it push down on me, and I began talking, just to air all the things that were bothering me.

"I want someone to believe me.  I want to not feel this.  I want to get out of this vicious cycle and be someone new.  I want to be understood.  I want my friends back.  I want Phobetor."

I felt him appear, and I started sobbing.  I told him I couldn't do this anymore, break myself down anymore and pretend I was doing fine.  I begged him not to disappear again, and told him that I needed him in my life, in whatever capacity that meant.  

To my surprise, he drew me in and held me.  That only made me cry harder.  I missed him so much...

I told him the trigger cycle I was in, and he asked, "What made you call me?"

I thought about it seriously for a moment.  "Because... you walked through fire for me at one point, and I don't know where that changed.  It hurt that you somehow took every affection I'd shown you and turned it into something... that abhors my very existence."

He sat at the edge of the bed and pondered this.  "I wasn't aware this had hurt you so badly."

I told him of all the times I'd expressed my truth, only to turn around and somehow be made into a villain... a monster... a crazy or dangerous person... and how that had impacted my ability to survive.  How X had taken my beliefs and gaslit me.  How I'd been ostracized by my peers and bullied in middle school.  How I had been trapped in multiple relationships because I was too scared or felt too powerless to leave the person who had emotionally held me hostage.

He shook his shaggy head and looked at me with his glistening black eyes.  "So... why did you call me?  I recall... doing precisely that."

I paused, not sure I was willing to tell him.  "Because... I knew what you were going through; a crisis of identity.  And I wanted you to know that I still don't want that person to change."

"Why not?"

I glanced at him over my weighted blanket, eyes still red and wet with tears.  "What is life without 'reasonable fear'?" I asked.

He considered me, and then nodded.  "There's no survival mechanism."

I nodded back.  "Every being becomes infinitely more reckless, fighting to take up space, to greet, to breed... throwing themselves at danger regardless of consequence.  'A reasonable fear' sustains existence."

He harrumphed.  "I'm no angel, Hope."

"No, that's exactly what you are.  You're one of us.  'God Sustains'."

He looked at the wall across my room.  "And you... love this person."  It wasn't a question.

"Yes."  I wiped my face.  "What did you expect when I came out to greet you that day?  To have a spear in hand, ready to slay you like St. George and the dragon?"

He nodded briefly.  "And instead, you sang to me."

"Yes."  I shifted uncomfortably and he reached out again.

He picked up what looked like a thin, sharp wire.  "You're bleeding," he noticed.  "This is probably why you've been so tired lately.  You should go to the infirmary tonight."

"I don't want you to leave."

"They may not allow me in, Hope."

"Then will you stay with me until then?"

"Should I lie down with you?"

"I don't care.  I just don't want you to go."

He sat with me until the moment passed, and I got up and went back to my family.

I learned, after a bit, that the razor wire he had started pulling off me was cutting into my skin and causing me to hemorrhage energy from different places on my body, most notably the center of my chest, my right temple, and my throat.  No matter how I pulled at it to alleviate my discomfort, it continued to wrap around me until I was in enough pain to have physical reactions, and was exhausted from the blood loss.  

I gave most of the wire I found to my friend Eitri, a dwarf, who could likely put it to better use than I would, but I still knew I had to find the root of the problem before I got stuck in another vicious loop.  It felt like I was constantly walking into a sharpened spiderweb... and then I'd suddenly feel a sharp pain in my head or my back, and the mati Phantasos had given me would start ringing shrilly.

When mati cause ringing in the ears, it means there's something evil around.  And I was not disappointed.  I've called angels and aspects to defend me, Harmony and Reckoning to counter, and I've gone to battle numerous times, enough to know that no amount of fighting is going to help me win against this monster.  

I'm tired.  I don't want to fight anymore.  I already know who it is, and I'm sure whoever is listening out there is tired of me thinking I'm X's victim.  Fortitude says "He can't do anything.  You're Hope, aren't you?"  Sure.  But saying he can't do anything is just untrue.  He can and does still hurt me.  Just because he can't stop me doesn't mean he can't make me suffer.

Mother offered me a vision of the sea, and me being the captain of a ship, as she says I'm captain of my own peace.  I was attacked by a flotilla and managed to come out with more ships and more crew than I went in with.  I told them I would behead one crew member every thirty seconds until they told me where their admiral was.  A few put up a good show of loyalty, crying "I'm the admiral!" before I executed them.  One finally looked around at the carnage and pled for me to stop, and took me to his commanding officer.

"Why did you attack me?" I asked.

He started listing off all the reasons I was the most dangerous person alive, and I shook my head.

"So you came into this fight knowing that if you struck first, I'd strike back and win."  I gestured to his crew.  "Look at what you've done.  All this loss of life, because you couldn't just let me exist."

His minions began to shift into grotesque forms, corrupted by their officer.  "What life?" he asked.

"So you're using them," I said.

He shook his head.  "Nobody forced them to do this."

"That doesn't change the fact that you're using them."  I looked back at him.  "I could've taught you something.  I could have meant something... besides being a caged animal.  And the fact that you put your pride and your honor before being kind and empathetic just shows how stupid you are."

Mother finally intervened.  "You're trying to reason with something that can't be reasoned with," she said.

I sighed and nodded... and executed the fleet's admiral.  I had my crew cannibalize what they needed from the flotilla, and invited the enemy crew to join me.  Those who did survived.  I stranded those who didn't.

It's all well and good, but I can't do that here.  I can't kill my attacker.  I can't make him stop.  The funny thing is... I don't even wish him ill.  I just want him to leave me alone, and be able to let my guard down and not think about him anymore.  I'd love that.  Just to be able to be with no interference.  Maybe he and I could have been friends if that were so.  But no, I had to tell him my truth and teach him my ways.  I taught him to project his will like this... I earned these scars from trusting too deeply.

And it infuriated me that Fortitude tried to reiterate those empty platitudes; that I'm Hope, and I can do anything, and I'm away from that place and can live my life free from this.

But not while he's still capable of bullying me.  Taking potshots at me from afar and then pretending nothing's wrong.  I would absolutely love it if X were just... someone else's problem for awhile, and not mine.  Thanatos would be a better keeper than me.  But how he gets to that point is out of my hands.

[elysiumxii]

"Ah" Phobetor lets his lips part as he softly exhales on a chuckle, lifting a finger to lightly point in agreement to the doctors point. Paion possibly wasn't making a joke with his pro bono comment, but it was amusing none the less. Despite his someone intimidating exterior, Phobetor has quiet the sense of humour, especially when a joke is dry and scathing. "By the night, please-" he coos softly to correct, drawing his lips together with a few soft tuts. He was not a cheap by the hour whore, his clientele could afford to pay up until sunrise.

As Paion begins his verbal examination, the other god's head tilts as he looks back at him, as if he could watch the cogs turn and the medical assessment sheet be filled out all behind those lovely eyes. How his patients must feel soothed by that handsome face looking back at them. Full of care and compassion... at first he would find such things weak, but it was in his nature to underestimate such things, after all.

What was that? Concern? For him? Laughing softly Phobetor shakes his head, taking a hold of his coat with one hand, removing it from being draped over his arm and reaches out to lay it over the nearest chair. Offering more of a view of himself as he looks back to his fellow deity. "He fell Paion" he reiterates, but there is mirth in his voice. Supposing that knowing what Phobetor does, it was logical to be concerned when doctors visits are bolted on the end. They weren't lying, he really did fall.

"An old football injury, I believe, left the socket weak to dislocation. He tripped over a rug and well, I was a little tied up at the time" he hums, arching an eyebrow, assuming he does not need to insinuate much more, before his arms open, gesturing to himself. Stood fit and well for the doctor to see, if it made him feel better. "I feel pain yes, but you're wrong to insinuate it sits so far away on the spectrum from pleasure" he teases a little. Was the doctor so straight laced he didn't know that? "Would it make you feel better to examine me? Make sure I'm not hiding any deep seeded scars-" the corner of his lips curl, keeping his hands a little lifted by his sides.

that was one way to describe olympus. the place didn't hold its appeal, especially with the sludge that inhabited it. who knew gold could rot so horribly? at the mention of zeus, paion can't help but sneer. he and the stupid oaf never got along. the god of thunder was both parts calculatingly cruel and stupidly airheaded. paion never understood why humans held him in such regard other than out of fear. i wouldn't have let him touch you paion wanted to say, but he had no right to say that since he had been banished from the summit.

the fellow deity was correct in his appraisal of the human realm and its propensity for bringing together beings that were decidedly nonhuman. paion knew from experience that earth was populated with powers of all sorts. vampires, charites, lycans, nymphs, demons, their hybrid children... it was easy to find immortals if you knew what stones to turn. and it was obvious that phobetor knew where to look. he had found paion, after all.

"not sure you can call it pro bono if you're still charging by the hour, phobetor," the doctor replies. "so what's your ability like on earth? you can feel pleasure, which means you can most likely feel pain..." creatures were like that. if one side of the coin can be experienced, that meant the whole coin could be thrown into the pot. sizzling and intense. "do you sustain that pain? does it affect you?" well aware that weighing his pound of flesh so vulnerably could end in disaster, paion decides to do it anyway. he was used to phobetor slapping away gentle hands. what was one more welt, at the end of the day? his arms drop, instead resting hands on the table behind him.

"do you need my help?" there it is. a perpetual good samaritan, paion cannot turn someone away who was, for all intents and purposes, alone in this world. especially someone he felt an inexplicable kinship in. "i need to know if it's going to be a regular thing. so i can schedule you in. or make sure i'm in during certain nights.

[mptim]

❛ i’m not a monster. ❜

angst meme / accepting

tim rested his chin in his palm, observing the other. the words came as a surprise, given he did not even say anything yet. he was simply fascinated by him, staring a little too much. technically, he was a monster. but then, so was tim. everyone could be a monster given the right (or wrong) circumstances. he heard stories about him or should he call him ‘it’? he had a metamorphic body, like a cloud which could take the shape of your worst or happiest memories. the shadow that lurks in the corners of your mind when you are half-asleep – in a daydream. tim saw him too, walking around, reflected multiple times in the ice. long hands, claws, open ribcage – he thought he was madly cool. he thought he was beautiful.

“ma faute*, I just find you pretty,” he answered, quite honest. his lips curled in a smile that for once was not half-a-smirk. he would have touched him, but he was unsure if he should. his hand reached out, but stopped halfway. he pretended to reach for a napkin instead. “do you feel like a monster?”

_________ *trans. my bad/fault