nightmare.

beautiful nightmare.

[phobetorxmp]

[phobetorxmp]

mposiris​:

[ friendly ]

“maybe i am more dog than man, how would that make you feel, pho?” he counters the accusation, but his smile only widens with the amusement behind his words. there is no bite to his words for he is not willing to in any way change this softness between them. and when phobetor’s fingers so tenderly touch the side of his head, his eyes close automatically and any sign of amusement is replaced by the soft glow of appreciation as he leans into the touches fully.

he only opens his eyes when phobetor speaks again, to mention the troubles that have been kept at bay, and he wishes it would not have to be discussed - came here specifically so he could sleep and relax and not think about it - but he owes it to his friend to at least be honest.

“i am not my brother,” he says simply, but though his tone is soft it’s also a little final, as if indicating this is the only thing he wishes to say on the subject. “i do not relish in death nor destruction. it was a necessary evil.” it was, and he knows, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that the council’s on his ass about it and he has to continue defending his position to people who have an absolute zero of involvement in any of the horrors that had been going on. immortal people who might never understand the value of a life lived without evil interference.

“my discomfort will pass,” he adds after a bout of silence, softening up a little again since he knows phobetor is only trying to help. he appreciates it greatly, which he tries to wordlessly communicate by nuzzling into the crook of his friend’s neck again. “you being here with me helps, if that is your worry.”

With a gentle frown Phobetor watches as with his reply, complex and quite dark emotions pass over usually such a carefree face. His eyes looked dark with a brooding seriousness that was unsettling. It did not feel good to see someone usually so happy show a dark side, or presence of dark thought, when Phobetor sometimes relied on Osiris to be the opposite - the light to his dark. At the mention of his brother, Set, deep wounds were visible for just a moment, before he tries to smooth over them again once more. 

Phobetor remains laying pliable, letting the sleepy god pull him closer and cuddle to him as if it dispelled something, but the Greek god’s worries are not put to rest so easily. “Should it not-” he murmurs after a few moments, turning his head to rest his lips against Osiris’ temple as he speaks to him, not needing to see his eyes to know he was listening. “Should you feel worse or still burdened, you must tell me” he tries to press with all seriousness, because dark things brew in his dreams and they could not be ignored forever. 

The last thing he wants is for Osiris to continue to push these things aside and not deal with them, before it becomes too late. 

[phobetorxmp]

mpxtohil​:

It is just another fun and casual evening spent with one of the gems of Babylon. By “fun and casual”, it means really fun and casual, with drinking cold beer, playing games at the arcade, roller skating at the rink, getting some snacks, talking, laughing, then dropping the escort off at the fancy lobby of Babylon just right before the bought time runs out. 

Tohil is waving the escort a smiley goodbye when his eyes land on the figure of someone stand-leaning against a pillar, looking quite displeased at the state of his employee. There isn’t enough light in the lobby - since when there is enough light at Babylon? - but Tohil’s hawk eyes are still able to figure out the owner of that sharp, brooding, rather intimidating, and openly mysterious face. They have never talked, not on any occasions Tohil can remember. If Tohil has always stood out from the crowds with his loudness, then this individual has made his presence noticeable by the typical quietness of a reserved observer. To the Mayan fire god, the other god is quite sexy and intriguing, but he’s been so busy with his messes that until now, they were just somewhat familiar faces in passing. 

But tonight, it seems like the other god is interested in making a change. For better or for worse, Tohil doesn’t dare to say for sure just yet, although he has a feeling that this will end up at least not ugly for them. 

“Yes, Phobetor?” The sound of the other’s name tastes so foreign on his lips, for it is probably the first time he says it aloud since the day he’s learned its existence. His response is decently polite, Tohil assumes, especially when the Greek god of nightmare is looking like he’s about to kill him and get away with murder right there. If that default intimidation has any effects on Tohil, then it’s safe to say it ignites the fire god’s curiosity, conveniently tickling his sense of adventure. Like a big cat spotting a potential playmate, Tohil observes the way Phobetor approaching him, with undisguised amusement glinting n his eyes.  

The question posed after comes as a minor surprise. Surely, he’s always known Babylon is Phobetor’s business, but Tohil hasn’t expected to see the Greek god being this dedicated to what he’s doing. A soft chuckle leaves the fire god as he shifts his gaze from the upstairs direction Phobetor is pointing at and back to the nightmare god’s dark eyes. 

“Oh Pho, my friend, I can’t fake a smile. You saw me waving at that lovely young man like a puppy, did you?” He indeed likes his companion of the night, and he can say the same to all other of Phobetor’s escorts, and he totally understands the implication in the other god’s question and gestures. Tilting his head lightly to take in another angle of Phobetor’s chiselled features, Tohil flashes his trademark foxy smile, “And I’m sure you know I book your escorts for us to have fun together out there, not for me to have fun with them upstairs. You don’t expect me to just fuck demigods who are probably younger than my daughter, right?” 

“Pho-betor-” the Greek corrects lightly, dark, sleek eyebrow arching only higher at his new found, unwanted nickname. On the few occasions he had managed to wind up with a nickname or a shortening of his name, they have not usually lasted long. Caused, perhaps, by the steely expression the nightmare god currently supports.  

Still, he lets Tohil continue. The fiery god gesturing to the young demigod employee who had just left them, and Phobetor’s eyes do indeed track up the stairs after him. Looking as loved up as they usually do, having returned from some time out with the Mayan fire god. One after another he had seen them all come back, spouting nonsense and giggling, all being waved off by one and the same, Tohil. With one of those sweet as honey smiles, like the one he currently supports - boyish and charming. What could have them all so giddy? Phobetor will never understand. The other god was going to do more to ruin Babylon’s reputation for mystery and alluring intrigue than if Phobetor ran an open house event! 

Slowly Phobetor’s dark, sharp gaze tracks back to the man before him as he explains his reasoning, eyebrow only piquing at the use of such colourful language in his serene lobby. So it was the age of his escorts that’s put the god off? Not many other deities had that issue. Besides, they have a god on their books! Though, it was him... 

“We do more than fuck here, Mr Tohil, as you so eloquently put it” he replies, eyebrow remaining arches as he slowly lets his gaze meander down the man. “Besides, surely you’re handsome, with enough charm, you shouldn’t need to hire your company for fun ‘out there’”. He notes before his gaze lifts to the other god’s again. “They would be more than willing, I bet-”

[exmpmarklee]

the Nightmare’s assistant

[exmpmarklee]

A starter for future boss @phobetorxmp

Mark is having cold feet. 

Just a few days ago, he was still a ball of excitement filling up and sending his resume for the assistant position of the Greek god of nightmares. What’s got into him to do that while he’s still completely happy with his job at LOCO Motion? Mark would blame it on his inherent workaholism. While being a dance instructor gave him the fun and the zest for life he was always searching for, the Celtic demigod felt like he still had a little too much free time to spend. He needed to be busy in order to keep himself together, so even though his former experiences have very little thing to do with the duties given in the job description, he still decided to give it a try. 

But since the unexpected phone call telling him to come for an interview with Phobetor himself, his anxiety level suddenly reached its peak. He couldn’t sleep well last night, but nervousness and the desire to do things well keep him wide awake. ‘It isn’t like you’re starving and desperately in need of a job’, Mark’s inner voice tells him in an attempt to slow down his racing heartbeats, ‘just do your best and don’t embarrass yourself, you can do it!’. 

After a couple more of such self-encouraging words, Mark has arrived at Babylon. Looking up at the mysterious building, he realizes this is going to be his first time coming back to this business in a long, long while. Before today, he’s only ventured inside a few times, the first time out of curiosity, and the few later for…personal interest, of course. But maybe, Mark believes, he just wasn’t born to be a regular of such places. Ironically, now he’s attempting to get a job that if he successfully gets, it will get his life attached to this business probably in more than one way. 

Mark looks down to give his outfit a check for the last time. Polished dress shoes, checked. A decent suit, checked. Tie, checked. Hair, well it’s clean and neat at the last time he checks, and let’s hope that there is no stray lock of hair coming out of nowhere during the interview. After taking a deep breath, with his heart still racing like crazy in his chest, Mark steps into the building. He’s then guided to Phobetor’s office, and the next thing he knows is he’s standing in front of the god, looking even more intimidating than he is in Mark’s vague memory. He has seen Phobetor at some social functions, standing in a dark corner and seeming to scrutinize the partygoers for their potential mischiefs. Mark had to admit that he was slightly scared by this mysterious god, but now when Phobetor is in his element, Mark has to fight off the urge to run. 

“Good evening, sir. My name is Mark Lee, and I’m a candidate for the assistant position.” Mark hears himself saying what he has been practising since the phone call, or to be exact, right after he managed to calm himself down enough for it. Based on what his own ears have listened to, the volume of his voice is decent, not too loud it startles the whole building, but not too soft that only he can hear it. His experience as a waiter has prepared Mark to maintain a good posture. Mark’s right hand is holding his left hand’s wrist, which is pressing just slightly against his belly. Oh, and he’s smiling, a soft and polite smile, good. Now Mark only needs to pray that he won’t make any mistakes or faint away, at least not until this interview ends.

[phobetorxmp]

Phobetor’s life had become a little hectic as of late. With two grown children to constantly fret over, despite how competent they may be, and a booming business to run, the god finds very little time to focus on one thing or another. Not to mention his personal life had taken a nose dive off a cliff. When he worked at Babylon he was sought after. Skilled in his trade booking an evening with him was an event... now he feels more like a gremlin, sat behind this desk, bathed in shadows. 

His office, like his home, was his sanctuary, of course. Lit only by a few, low glow lamps to protect nocturnal eyes, the walls filled with the books he loves and subtly erotic art that keep him grounded to the pace of the world he’d built around him. The furniture dark and ornate and the walls even darker, Phobetor’s ink nibbed pen scratches at paper as the god works well into the night keeping his empire afloat. What he wouldn’t do for some help. 

It was this idea, and a little help advertising with modern technology from his son, that Phobetor had put out the advertisement for an assistant. Someone to help run his life with the efficiency and lunacy that kept the god happy. Keep him happy, keep him fed and keep Babylon running so he can return to doing things he enjoys... and maybe getting a date now and then.  

It was this journey that had lead the Greek to where he now was, as the faint knock comes to his door and he watches as a young man is lead in before him. With his elbows propped against the arms of his chair, long fingers entwined, Phobetor leans back against the back rest as he watches him step forward. “Good evening, Mark Lee. I am Phobetor” he hums softly in reply, liking what he sees so far. A good stance, chin well raised and a good pace to a melodic voice. So far so good. He had passed the vetting stage, through his son Changmin, so there must be something here that the young demigod of fear thought his father would enjoy. 

“Tell me, Mr Lee, who’s child are you?” He asks, finding that an appropriate place to begin. 

[phobetorxmp]

mpairmid​:

he asks for a dance, and though it is definitely unexpected - which shows on her features that are much more unguarded in her tipsy state - she doesn’t hesitate in the slightest to accept, a wide smile replacing any other expression she might have had before. “absolutely,” she agrees, putting down her half empty glass and getting up as she takes the hand he reaches out to her. her other hand takes hold of the champagne glass he’s still holding to leave it next to hers, a duet of glasses and a duet of deities.

she lets him guide her over to where they have the space to dance, before turning fully towards him and then putting her other hand on his shoulder. it moves as if automatically to the side of his neck, palm resting against the bare skin there for her to almost instantly imbue him with the natural energy that floats all around them. what a wonderful feeling it is, after all, to feel someone regain all of their energy and strength right there under her touch, to know that one she calls a friend is healthy and safe.

she smiles up at him then, saying nothing as she lets him lead the way into whichever dance he wishes to have. it doesn’t matter to her, she is very skilled in following the motions of another person and letting them guide her to wherever they wish to be. and phobetor she trusts, so he can take her quite literally anywhere.

Happily taking the goddess by the hand, Phobetor holds it aloft as he leads them to the centre of the dance floor and turns her to him as they take their positions. Feeling her fingers by his neck and the light tingle that comes with it, he chuckles softly before setting his own hand on the centre of her small back, ready to lead. “You should be careful with things like that” he murmurs, but there is still a playful curl to his lips as he continues. “You know these things can go both ways-” he warns softly. It wasn’t always safe to open a connection with a dark god, after all. The last thing he wants is for a little of his darkness, of which he is literally made from, to leech into her beautiful light. 

“Now, let us show these children how it is done” he whispers, flashing the softest of winks, before drawing a foot back to begin leading the goddess into a waltz. There is nothing he quite enjoys more than dancing with a woman. The feel of a slighter body fitting like a perfect puzzle piece against his masculine form. The sensation of flowing skirts with each executed turn and the trust and companionship of being able to lead another in a dance. 

There was never enough proper dancing these days. 

[phobetorxmp]

mposiris​: 

he can’t help the laugh that leaves him when phobetor grumbles that he is the troubles, shaking his head and then leaning in to contently nuzzle his friend’s jaw, soft in his affections and touches both. luckily he’s given a proper answer to his question as well and it has him smiling warmly, softness filtering in to every single one of his features because he is just happy to be here, to have this friendship he can rely on.

“i’m not hungry,” he replies, denying it just the same way he had the offer of a bath. “i have everything i need right here.” as if to make it clear what he’s talking about, he hugs phobetor a little closer and then settles his head down on his friend’s shoulder. he’s rewarded with a hand running through his hair, though it comes with a comment that judges its current look.

“why?” he hums. “i like it like this. it’s soft and fluffy and it makes people like you run their fingers through it, which makes people like me extremely happy.” he grins a bit smugly as he says it, gently pressing his head a little better into the touch as if to quietly request phobetor to keep it up. he could die right now just to get some more of those gentle affections, fingers through his hair or a hand just running up and down his back. it sounds like heaven itself to him, and he hopes that phobetor will be fine with giving him said moment of paradise, because he’s not sure what he’ll do if he’s really kicked out of the bed and told to start on his day.

“You are being obstinate” Phobetor retorts as the Egyptian claims to not be hungry, just as he also did not want a bath. It was very difficult for him to care for the other man when he refused to allow himself to be cared for! Especially when Phobetor feels so out of his depth with trying to be tender and caring. Still, as Osiris’ arms wind tighter around him with notions of having all that he needed to feel better in him, it does simmer down most of the nightmare god’s worries. Leaving him instead to murmur “flatterer” under his breath. 

As talk turns to his hair, Phobetor’s eyebrow arches high at Osiris reasoning as to why this floppy mess of hair was his desired look. “You sound more like a dog than a man” he teases, before letting his fingers run down to the shell of the god’s ear, running the crook of his knuckle along the soft skin slowly before over to what skin of his cheek he could reach. There were things he wanted to ask the other, concerns he has. He had kept Osiris’ dreams deliberately empty, but that did not stop him from reading what plagued his mind. 

He lets the other god lie for a little longer, before his chin turns towards soft, floppy locks, sinking into it before he murmurs “you are troubled by what happened”. It was not framed as a question, because he knew. Osiris was carrying far too much for him to deal with alone. 

[phobetorxmp]

mpxinvidia​:

♮

   There is he is, that little minx, laying lazily across his chaise couch near the large window of his room staring out at the people that pass down below on the street. Things are peaceful, beautiful, and serene as he floats in post-coital bliss from an earlier session with a mystery visitor. Aaaaaaaaaah, sweet, sweet tranquility.

‘INVIDIA!’

   His name sounds from somewhere outside his room and the sinner’s head lifts quickly. There’s only one person with a voice like that in this whole city. “Oh, I have errored.” Standing up he moves to collect a silk robe that flatters him best but is also appropriate for going down to talk with his boss, tossing it on and making his way to the door in time to be greeted by the assistant who gives him a little sympathetic wince of a smile before he walks him down the hall, down the stairs and into the belly of the beast. The office door opens and he sees Phobetor still standing and looking more than a little upset as he glares at him from the desk. Whatever it is, he knows he probably did it.   “Forgive me, Phobetor, for I have sinned,” he says mocking the sanctity of another thing before he steps nearer but doesn’t sit down just yet in the chair before the desk. “To what do I owe your displeasure today? Surely it is not that I am not turning enough revenue.” He knows he does his job very well, and he knows his worth on top of that in all respects so whatever grievance he has caused is to do with a question of who he’s bedded.   Unafraid, curious, and ready to own up if he needs to the demigod keeps his amber eyes on Phobetor’s face.

“Do not be glib with me, Mr Duval” the god hums, his more dangerous tone. Silky soft and low, as he slowly straightens from the desk, hands lifting from his paperwork with the smooth movement as Invidia set solely in his sights. Revenue, or someones ability to bring it in, though it must be checked and kept account of, was very rarely a motivator for Phobetor. He values skill above all things and he will readily admit the young man has it, but he would hate to see an attitude flourish because of it. 

Setting a hand down on his paperwork, long, pale fingers spread, he turns the writing towards the demigod with a twist of his palm, before beckoning him closer with a crooked finger from the other hand. “Kim Rowoon” he says the name lowly, before his finger curls in to tap the paper with his nail just above the print of said name. “Two nights ago he entered this establishment and hired your company-”. His statement sounded very much like an accusation. “-I was not aware Rowoon knew of the existence of my premises, so now I find out not only does he know and that he has been here, but that your name is attached to it”.

Phobetor knows he is over protective but he would be exactly the same with his own son and he dreads the notion of Camazotz ever finding out! “Explain” he demands, hoping for something like a chess game to be the excuse. 

[phobetorxmp]

A Cold Flame | starter for @mpxtohil​ ft Phobetor & Tohil 

“Again? What time is it?” Phobetor mumbles to his assistant as they pass, Phobetor stood lent against one of the large pillars in Babylon’s expansive lobby, collecting shadows as he does. With a small flourish of his arm the Greek god draws back his sleeve to gaze down at the face of his watch, before dark eyes lift again to watch his employee conclude his fratanisation with a certain perplexing individual. His gaze slowly tracks said employee as they move to the stairs, before his coal black eyes dart back to centre on the god in question. 

Just what is his deal? Is his product not good enough to partake in properly?! This isn’t a dating service, after all. 

“Excuse me” Phobetor calls out, drawing himself up to walk with purpose across Babylon’s marble lobby towards the fire god as his chin lowers. Demeanour as intimidating as usual, even without his intention. Sure he had seen the other god around. Tohil was loud and vivacious, he was hard to miss at public functions. The antithesis of the demure, dark god who more often than not watched from the shadows - yet the two had never really spoken. Still, if he intends to visit frequently but not complete a proper transaction, even if he was paying, this became Phobetor’s business. 

“Did my employee not please you today?” He hums, coming to a stop before the man as his long arms slowly fold low across his body. “I cannot help but notice you have yet to venture upstairs” he hums, hand lifting to gesture to the staircase behind him with a slow uncurl of his fingers. 

[phobetorxmp]

mpadaline:

A Problem Shared | The Phobetor Clan!

Adaline’s thoughts are far removed from the couch she’s sitting in and the two men in her family that are scattered in the living room. She is instinctively aware of where each of them is, so that she can open a different app lest they come closer, but her hearing is not tuned in to them and her attention is fully on her phone for the time being. That is, until her father’s grumbling voice is finally followed by her brother’s, and she thinks perhaps she should pay attention if her father is talking to them.

She tunes in just in time to hear Changmin mentioning that Phobetor wouldn’t like the cleaner and her eyes instantly go over to the kitchen, where their father has clearly been grumbling while going through the cupboards. “Which cleaner are we talking about?” She asks a bit belatedly. “Is it the hot one?” Doubtful, but one can never be too sure, after all. “Also it will take a millennium for anyone to ever figure out how to do things exactly how you like them so if that’s what you want you better look into hiring one of your fellow gods for the purpose.”

She chuckles lightly at her own joke at the expense of her father, before pushing herself up from the couch and tucking the phone away in her pocket so she can go over to her father to help him find whatever’s missing. As she reaches him, she instantly slips her arms around his middle and rests her cheek against his shoulder, looking at the kitchen counters to try and guess what he’s been up to. “What did you lose, papa?” she asks him, gaze going over the rest of the kitchen before it returns to him and she adds with clear laughter in her voice: “Except for your dignity having had to dig through all these cupboards yourself just now.”

“Hmmnn...” Phobetor grumbles as Changmin reminds him that he had indeed warned him that he would not enjoy having a cleaner poke around in his things and organise to flawed logic. The flaw being it wasn’t his, and they weren’t in his head. “They do not have to move my tea things” he mutters, almost under his breath with a little petulance, because he knows Changmin is right. Of course he is, after all he is his son. 

Hearing his daughter pipe up with her question, the god tuts and shakes his head with a “really Adara” he mumbles, disapprovingly. He does not need his daughter finding anyone he hires ‘hot’! Having given up on the logical place it might be, in with the other tea items, the god moves along to start investigating the cutlery draw. “-and which god would you suggest, princess?” He answers absentmindedly because it was not helpful. “There wasn’t a god of organising, the last time I checked” he comments, pulling a pronged pasta spatula from the draw and eyeing it curiously before slowly putting it back. He doesn’t cook and some things are just better off not querying. There was actually a lot in this kitchen he has never even seen before, let alone know the use of!

With his daughter now joining him in the kitchen, Phobetor sets a hand on the side, leaning against it and she against him as he looks down at her with a small arch to his eyebrow, before lifting his arm from her cheek, letting her rest against his chest and his fingers sweep a little of her lovely dark hair behind her ear. “My tea leaf brewer, and I wouldn’t have to search for myself if you or your brother would help me” he teases a little in his own slightly lighter mocking voice, bringing their noses close before he glances over to the TV. “Great, now I am missing the revelation of who fathered Joon-ah’s illegitimate child!” He laments because the adverts had finished and he does not have a pot of tea brewing ready for his soap opera! 

“Arestos, do the thing-” he requests with a wave of his hand, looking from son to TV and gesturing between the two. Pausing live TV was something he needed help with, he doesn’t understand the symbols. Ancient Greek he can read, play, stop and pause buttons confuse him. @mpchangmin​ @mpadaline​

[phobetorxmp]

Out of Bounds | starter for @mpxinvidia​ ft Phobetor & Invidia 

“Mm thank you-” Phobetor murmurs softly to his assistant as the newest accounting reports are set down on his desk in front of him. Slowly he sits forward with a creak of his leather chair, and sets down his tea cup, the porcelain chinking softly against it’s saucer as his eyes drift to the printed numbers in front of him. The all important ledger of what was coming in and what was going out. Monthly sums of client retainers and importantly bad debts. Phobetor has rather unique was to make sure people settle their debts, so the red is nearly non-existent. It does help to have a steely glare that can terrify without his abilities with fear ever needing to be mentioned. 

With the high quality paper crisply turning under his fingers, the nightmare god lets his eyes scan the rows as they do, seeing familiar names, happy clients, all good... before his gaze stutters on a particular name, printed there in black and white. “What-” he sits forward with a jolt as his eyes widen. “Ro-” he begins to say the name, before his eyes scan across the line to see just who had tempted that innocent boy through the doors of his establishment. 

“INVIDIA!” He roars, setting his hands on his oak desk as he stands. The shadows of his dimly lit office only darkening and no amount of chamomile tea was going to sooth this one over. “Get him in here!” The god snaps to his assistant as his sheepish head pokes around the door and his brows lower into a line. His bark was worse than his bite... usually.  

[mptim]

【 pretty nightmare / t && p 】

[mptim]

“it must be wonderful for gods to walk in and out of time at any moment,” there was admiration in tim’s voice, and perhaps a little envy. it was not as if he was too keen to experience the past and the present at once, but he would have at least liked the option. his jealousy did not last, it was a mere fleeting feeling like many others. he was far more interested and engaged in other things, other words, and him. when the god took his hand, he felt as though a thousand cold oceans turned inside him and washed him dry. there was a terrifying thrill that ran through his veins, it was so powerful tim almost saw it move under his skin. he has never touched a god, and he could not have imagined how it would feel like.

maybe it was phobetor’s power to make the touch feel like that, or maybe tim was far too lost to notice it was as simple as a human touch. but no, it could never be that simple. his skin was as soft as silk, and tim’s lips parted in admiration just slightly when his fingers could finally trace the pretty features of a formless mist. it was the curiosity of an artist, tracing small patches of skin, every single inch making him feel as though he swallowed a little bit of darkness. this could have been completely uneventful for the god, but for tim it was close to an experience of a lifetime. how could he leave with the touch of a god lingering on his fingertips? it was addictive.

he was not afraid. whatever fear he had must have died in his throat the second he touched the god’s face. when he opened his beautiful eyes, tim felt as though he has uncovered a second universe. one that was the ocean and the sky, one with ripples of water and ribbons of stars. a universe that belonged to phobetor alone, perhaps it was his realm of darkness. tim took a while to respond, he was too fascinated by the sight to find his words again. “I would love to see it,” he did not know if he signed up for some death pact or for his own destruction. he did not care as long as he got to touch him more, as long as he could keep the memory of his godly skin on his fingertips.

[phobetorxmp]

With Tim’s answer an affirmative, Phobetor’s smile only widens as his eyes remain pitch black holes to a soulless existence. He is very pleased with this answer and the awe he sees reflected back in such an honest, lovely, hazel gaze. Now this was pleasing to his showman side, to finally find someone willing to plunge head first into darkness to enjoy what he could show them. To experience with him. This was what being a god was about. 

“Then close your eyes” he purrs back, voice having taken on a deeper, more distant tone as already the room around them began to fade from the edges, darkening around them. Like a spotlight shone above, illuminating only their table in relevance.  “Sleep” he murmurs, though it was a laced command. As a child of Somnus no one was safe from nightmares, when Phobetor can plunge them into them. 

As soon as those pretty lashes fall, they’re gone. Very little changing in the waking world, but for Tim falling asleep at the table, though as they now stand in his realm, Phobetor happily catches the demigod against his chest, one arm looping around Tim’s middle as the other still holds the hand to his cheek. “You can open your eyes now” he murmurs playfully given their proximity, before his head turns a little to brush lips against Tim’s knuckles and he continues to support him until the demigod finds his own feet. Now stood on the midnight beaches of Ancient Greece. The lazy waves lapping at a quiet shore and birds cawing over head. A battleground fallen silent, funeral pyres burning not far in the distance, floating, deserted war ships creaking as they bob out to sea or ground ashore and the bodies of the unclaimed still floating face down in the salty water. 

“Welcome to Troy..”

[phobetorxmp]

cont from here w/ @mpxposeidon​ ft Phobetor & Poseidon 

“My fantasies?” Phobetor repeats playfully with a raise of his eyebrow, before chuckling gently as Poseidon finishes his silly antics. Luckily Phobetor had known his fellow Greek long enough to deal with his harmless, yet overbearing charm and sees the playful side behind it. “That would make you a thing of nightmares, dear sea king-” he hums teasingly before flashing him a wink. 

“Then again-” the fear god muses aloud with a slow slosh of his drink, eyes lifting as he thinks. “I could see it. For what is more terrifying then the seas deepest creatures. The crash of a whale, the crushing grip of a giant squid” he hums, eyes lowering to Poseidon again as his teasing smirk grows. “You could be quite terrifying”. Though in Phobetor’s book, that was a high compliment indeed. 

[phobetorxmp]

mposiris​:

he opens a single eye at phobetor’s comment on the value of the bed, glancing in the direction of his friend to see whether the snippiness is temporary or will last. in the end phobetor simply moves to lie back down and osiris closes said eye again with a content smile. “guess you think i’m worth thousands of dollars a night,” he utters teasingly, but with great somewhat smug contentment as he drapes his arm back over phobetor’s chest and nuzzles into the crook of his neck once more. 

he’s asked whether he slept well and without troublesome dreams and he instantly lets out a groan of delight at the thought of his solid night’s sleep. “i did,” he agrees with even more contentment than before, clearly utterly delighted with this reality. “you kept away all the evils of the night,” he teases a little more, opening his eyes just so he can look up at phobetor properly and there’s nothing but a warm sort of teasing in his expression then, that speaks more of love than of any will to bug his friend.

“did you get some sleep?” he questions then, because he was so out of it phobetor might as well have lain there all night with his eyes open staring at the ceiling and he wouldn’t have known. “did i keep away some of your troubles at least in return?”

“You are my troubles-” Phobetor mumbles in reply, having been scooped up in yet more of the other gods clingy cuddles until his weight is resting atop him. Though glancing down he sees Osiris’ boyish grin and returns it with a roll of his eyes that shows he was not being serious. “I slept fine” he hums, because truly Phobetor does enjoy sharing a bed it had just been ever such a long time since he had done it - in any capacity! Osiris could have even been a little more cuddly to suit the nightmare god’s tastes, but he’s not going to say that out loud.

“If you are hungry we can order some food” he offers, as his idea of a bath had been refused he wants to make sure the other god is still looking after himself, at least a little. Osiris doesn’t seem to want to get up, however, so a little food in bed could be aloud and no doubt Babylon could rustle something up. They’d looked after him often enough when work had taken over everything. 

“You need a hair cut” he mumbles absentmindedly as a hand lifts to run long fingers through the other god’s floppy hair. It was getting so long.  

[mp-ryo]

Anything but Ordinary | Phobetor & Ryo

@phobetorxmp

[phobetorxmp]

mp-ryo​:

How kind. Well Ryo had his moments. He was the observant type, and he wouldn’t go out of his way for many people just those that he had good feelings about. Phobetor may be his boss and they may have butt heads from time to time - since Ryo was not very afraid of the god - but they have been working together for a while now. Running his own shop now he understands what stresses can come with a owner status. So the witch empathized with the older. “Heh..I am nice when I want to be.” he laughs a little but does watch closely as the handsome god takes the moment to smell one of the blends he made.

“Its true…you are not always up during the day, but feel free to use these for your nocturnal needs as well.” he adds while he watches and while he wonders what the god is thinking he hears the next comment about his second job. “Oh yes, I do enjoy it very much. Not just for the art of tea but for the things I can make. I tend to have specialty teas for certain people that come through. Not to sound too much like I’m living a different kind of fantasy but its like potion brewing.” he explains softly before he’s taking the other canister which held the calming tea to turn and start the process of brewing a cup for the god. Ryo doesn’t mind doing it at all, he actually wonders if he could show the other the talent he had perhaps he’d become one of his customers as well. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around Yue..but it also probably doesnt help that we dont stay open very late.” he laughs a little.

“No well-” the god shrugs softly before offering a nod. Early closing hours would bar him on most days after all. Looking down he plucks his pen again so he can finish his current work and devote all of his attention to his guest. “-my daytime outings are usually in the company of Osiris and that oaf is the last person you want handling your dainty tea cups” he hums, an amused glint in his eye though his stoic features show very little. Osiris was one of the few people Phobetor would brave the daylight hours for, but he usually tags along with wherever the other god wanted to go. Yue’s had not been suggested yet, but maybe he will bring it up. 

With one last flourish of his signature, Phobetor sets the pen aside, clicking its lid in place and files away his paperwork before leaning back in his chair with a tired sigh. “Perhaps I should request a blend for vitality or energy” he mentions in passing because he does find all this office work and paperwork very exhausting. Working at Babylon, it turns out, was much easier than running it! 

Setting his folded hands on his abdomen, the god remains reclined, watching the demigod begin the magic of brewing once he has the set up organised, intending to enjoy a little break in the work. 

[phobetorxmp]

baldurxmp​:

Phobetor’s voice raised, and the God of Purity could feel a chill running down his back, not sure if it was because of his physical state, or fear. It would be ridiculous for a God to be scared of another God but the tall figure of Phobetor could be intimidating.

Baldur hummed softly, he had no intention to upset the other with his words nor his actions, but somehow he did, and just like a scolded puppy, Baldur looked down as he was helped to get inside of the car in silence, following Phobetor’s instructions.

He tried his best to hold his hand up but the loss of blood was making it hard for him to use any strength. He doubted if to speak again or not, he didn’t want to make Phobetor explode again, yet, he could feel how his body was giving up despite his efforts. “Pho… Please don’t yell at the driver… I need to sleep. Wake me when we arrive, is it alright with you?” He said as his head slowly tilted to the side, resting on the God of Nightmares’ shoulder.

“I am not yelling at the driver!” Phobetor replies, still in an angry tone, but more indignant this time. He was not the type to stomp around the place yelling at people. Can the silly Nordic god not see that he does all of this out of worry for him? Out of frantic panic to get him to hospital! No, of course, he’s the scary god of nightmares and everything he does chills and terrifies the people around him, he thinks sarcastically. For once he would like to be seen as the helpful, caring god he thinks he is! 

However his anger quickly dissipates as he looks over to Baldur and sees him easing into sleep, which simply will not do. “No” he snaps, taking a hold of the other god’s wrist again and this time tugs him up from his slumped position and against him. “You will not sleep” he commands, fearing that where he to fall asleep now it would surely spell the end of his living body and he does not want the god to be stuck in that lost, non-corporeal position. I could be ages until they got him back. “Only you would be foolish enough to try and sleep with the god of nightmares near” he murmurs to him, free arm looping around the god’s middle. Now he here is, playing up his own scary image. 

“Wake up, Baldur” he snaps, giving him a little jostle to keep him awake. “Sleep now and you give in. Have you no fight left in you?” Trying to rouse him the nightmare god does one thing he can think of doing, and slips a hand down to pinch his butt. “I said wake up!”

[phobetorxmp]

mpairmid​:

phobetor states he thought he looked giddy tonight, and all airmid can do is snort out a chuckle that turns into a warm laugh of amusement. giddy is the last word anyone would ever use to describe him, no doubt, except perhaps those who knew him so well they could read the giddiness in his stoic expression. airmid definitely isn’t one of those people, but she’s never minded it either.

when he tells her to ‘watch this’, she follows his gaze to his feet, to see a shadow breaking off there and flitting away across the floor. unable to follow it any further once it disappears behind the many feet crowding the room, she simply watches the crowd until there’s a sudden yell. for a moment longer she remains serious, but when the man can then be heard asking others if they’ve ‘seen that’ she’s instantly smiling again.

“serves him well,” she says, before focusing her gaze back on phobetor to grin at him brightly. “my saviour of the evening,” she says with some added reverence. “tell me, how can i repay you for such a nice gesture to me?” she vaguely motions her hand before chuckling again and simply lifting her glass to have another sip.

Despite his indeed rather stoic expression, Phobetor allows himself a small smirk as his trick has the desired effect and a man nightmarishly persistent with women who are in no way interested, and in Airmid’s case way out of his league, experiences a little nightmare of his own. “Well deserved indeed” he hums, returning his attention to her in all her tipsy silliness. He rather enjoys being called a saviour. Despite his frightful reputation, Phobetor is often seeking to help where he can and quite likes the idea of his heroic persona... with a few, select individuals that can see through all the darkness he shrouds himself in. 

“A dance, perhaps?” He replies to the offer, eyebrow lightly lifting before he offers out a hand for her to take. After all at an event like this what is more satisfying than leading a beautiful woman in a waltz? He is quite fond of dancing after all. A more whimsical side of him.

[phobetorxmp]

mpmoonseong​:

In Greek terms Moon Seong could possibly be likened to Narcissus, he loved the attention. He enjoyed seeing others fawn over him. Scenes like this, tempting well off people just with his body, smiles and seductively chosen words… This was where he shone and fell at the same time, but it was like a drug that he couldn’t resist. With his gifted power of his voice there was few people he could not get to like him, and seducing a god like Phobetor… Now that was the pinnacle of his achievement, he felt glorious. 

Watching the young man sit, Phobetor’s chin slowly lifts, drinking in the sight of his lovely broad shoulders and the lovely tone of his skin. Alive and sunkissed, youthful and so eager, he was enthralling just to observe.

With lips pressing to his abdomen, kissing a slow trail down the curves, bumps and ridges of his own musculature, under deathly pale skin, Phobetor allows his shirt to slip off his shoulders and to the ground, as his fingers thread into the demigods soft hair. Watching Moon’s fingers stray to his own trouser fastening, the god takes in a deeper breath as he watches him, the hair pushed back from that lovely face