#c: phantasos

[vampirecatboy]

Hello yes tell us about cthonic gods please

ok ok so

clarification for those that need it: Cthonic deities in Greek Mythology are gods and goddesses and entities that reside in the Underworld

first off i want to say that Hades game was such a godsend for me, because to have such a popular, well-made piece of media that is all about my special interest is like the best gift an autistic person can get

i'll start with my two favorite boys: Hypnos and Thanatos

they are twins, first of all, two sons of Nyx, personification of night, and Erebus, who is darkness (i don't know if Hades game ever touched on this but Hypnos' mom was literally within shouting distance)

Thanatos hates mortals because they hate him (he is not the god of death he just is death, and not many mortals like death) and he hates the Olympians because they can't die, juries out on if he hates his own twin but there is this really cute painting that shows them asleep together, so i would guess ol Thanny is fond of his brother

now also the thing about Thanatos is that he is the personification of peaceful death, it's the furies who deal with violent death, like he's giving people a peaceful passing and they still hate him. death is death i suppose

also i know Thanatos is a love interest in Hades game, but in actual mythology he had no consorts and no children, truly aroace misanthropic king

now onto Hypnos, the personification of sleep, who did fuck, and had at least three children but i'll get to them in a sec

he lives in a grotto on the river Lethe, the river of forgetfulness, one of the five rivers of the Underworld (the others are the Styx, of course, Cocytus, Phlegethon, and Acheron), he has his own court of minor gods and goddesses, including one of my personal favorites, Aergia, goddess of sloth and laziness, truly a "yes girl give us nothing!" moment honestly

there's also this story that i love, related to a mortal man who was also the lover of Selene, the moon. his name was Endymion, and in the more well known story, he was so beautiful when he slept, that Selene wanted to keep him in a state of eternal sleep, and they had 50 children, somehow, but the version of the story that i like (for reasons that will be very obvious lol) is that it was actually Hypnos who fell in love with him for the same reason as Selene, so he put Endymion into a state of eternal sleep, specifically with his eyes open, because he loved gazing into them (gay ass) no clue if their relationship was ever consummated like with Selene but one can imagine, this is Greek mythology after all

now Endymion wasn't the only lover Hypnos ever had, he also fell in love with one of Hera's graces (attendants?) whose name was Pasithea, and showing some remarkable restraint for a divine man in Greek myth, instead of abducting her or taking her by force, he asked Hera if he could marry her, and she agreed on the condition that he help turn the tide of the Trojan war (which is not my special interest so do not ask me about it, i know nothing lol)

with Pasithea, Hypnos had three sons, the most famous of which was Morpheus, god of dreams, his other two sons were Phobetor and Phantasos, but they all represent different aspects of dreaming, objects, beasts and people. Morpheus was specifically people in dreams, but he was the clear favorite and sort of took up the whole mantle from the other two Oneiroi

actually, addendum because i looked it up to check and the Oneiroi are the sons of Somnus, Hypnos' Roman equivalent, in Greek mythology they are his brothers. the rest of that is accurate though

so to summarize: Thanatos, aroace king, Hypnos, respectful if a bit weird bisexual, Aergia, just hangin' honestly

the twins have been depicted many ways, sometimes old men, sometimes babies, but i think most often they ended up being depicted as epheboi, teenagers

also it is very important that you know that Hypnos has head wings in a lot of his depictions, i forget if they depicted that in Hades but honestly who cares his design slaps either way

onto the most interesting thing for me about Hades game: Zagreus. he's obscure in Greek mythology, like all of Hades' alleged children, Macaria and Melinoe being the two i can remember. some scholars believe Zagreus to actually be Dionysus, because Dionysus also has ties to the underworld, i think in relation to his mother, like he had to rescue her from there or something? kind of a reverse of what Zagreus is trying to do in the game

i.... i think that's all the info i have to dump

i will not advocate for the accuracy of everything in this ramble (especially not the Zagreus/Dionysus bit, the stance among scholars might've changed since i acquired this information lol) but i certainly had fun thank you so much for asking me about this

[spiteweaver]

Phantasos: I am NOT embarrassed about the number of guys I've slept with. I am obviously embarrassed about the quality.

(source)

[shardclan]

Local wildclaw already cute af, shamelessly flaunts luminescent freckles. 

[a-frozcnlight]

[ ♛ ] send me a url and i'll tell you the following; starlightofdream

Send me an URL and I will tell you  ( still accepting ) - @starlightofdream

my opinion on;

character in general:  Oof, I can’t say much about that tbh xD All I really know from her muses is Kunikida, but their ( didn’t find your pronounce anywhere, so please tell me if I should change it;; ) multimuse is a really interesting mix tbh ° - °)/ 

how they play them:  As already said before, I don’t know a lot about Regulus or Phantasos. However, I really enjoy writing with Amy’s portrayals of them ( and Kunkikida of course ) nevertheless c: Despite not knowing anything of their fandom or the muses themselves, it feels easy to write with them. Often I have a little troubles to interact with Crossovers at first ( even if they have a verse for the fandom I’m in too ( BSD in this case ), but its not like this with hers…. I hope that made sense, LOL. 

the mun:  I didn’t really interact a lot with the mun tbh, but Amy seems actually pretty nice? And they also seem like somebody, who truly does their research when it comes to their muses!

do i;

follow them: yup c: rp with them:  We have three threads I think? So yup, we do ° - °)/ want to rp with them: Already doing so as said c: But I’m always open for more threads ( though, I still have to reply to our current ones, LOL )

ship their character with mine:   Wwwhhh, I’m somebody who hardly ships my muses instantly ( unless its already in a plot or platonic ) as I’m really more chemistry based. But who knows? I definitely wouldn’t say no neither I guess xD

what is my;

overall opinion:  I can’t truly say a lot there tbh, sorry, but can whole-heartly recommend people, to start RPing with Amy and her muses.

**Note: Mun’s answer are all to be completely honest. Don’t send url if you don’t want brutal honesty.

[rakpolaris]

(Please click on the image to see it better, Tumblr resized it and looks weird :’c)

{ I am more active on 🌼 Instagram 🌼 Twitter 🌼 DeviantART 🌼!! }

I needed to draw something just to relax, so here's Phantasos looking for El Cid... maybe she wants to show him her new bra, who knows xD I'm also thinking of doing another version without the bra, tho... Hmm...

[yg-hayi-blog]

— All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream. —

this is also a starter call (up to 5!). Press ♥ to dream of Phobetor.

A. Na forma humana, por estar acostumado a sempre se apresentar como animais ou monstros em pesadelos que toma parte, Phobetor se identifica com o gênero neutro (neutrois)  e qualquer forma que assuma não faz muita diferença. Basicamente escolhe sua forma humana em uma roleta.

B. Gosta de pregar peças e tirar aos pouquinhos a sanidade das pessoas, implantando nelas alucinações de medo e paranoias, eventualmente fazendo suas vítimas sofrerem de terrores noturnos e paralisias do sono, além de, é claro, pesadelos. Faz isso por diversão e não vê maldade, afinal, é a natureza dele como Deus do Medo e Pesadelos. Normalmente tem a atenção chamada por deuses maiores.

C. É tratado quase como uma criança problemática dado os seus poderes, principalmente pelos irmãos Phantasos e Morfeu. Mas ao mesmo tempo, é incorrigível. 

D. A despeito de seu lado sombrio, Phobetor é incrivelmente amável e sorridente. Vive em um mundo completamente paralelo (talvez literalmente, já que ajuda a governar o Reino dos Sonhos, Demos Oneiroi). 

[bibliophilicwitch]

Morpheus // Μορφευς

A revival polytheist’s introduction to working with Morpheus including mythological background, Hellenic (Greek revival/recon polytheism) basics, and a starting point of offerings, prayers, and spells for the Shaper of Dreams.

M Y T H O S

The Oneiroi are dark-winged daimones of the underworld and are the personification of dreams. They are able to take the form of animals at will and are said to leave Erobos each night like a flock of bats. The Oneiroi leave Erobos from one of two gates, either the gates of horn which emit prophetic, god-sent dreams, or the gates of ivory, which emit false dreams without meaning.

Parentage and siblings depend on which of the Greek or Roman epics, essays, or plays one refers to. In Hesiod’s Theogony, the Oneiroi are the children of Nyx by parthenogenesis while in Cicero’s De natura deorum, they are the children of Nyx and Erebos. In Hesiod’s Theogony, they are the siblings of Hypnos while in Ovid’s Metamorphoses, they are the children of Hypnos and Pasithea.

In the Metamorphoses Ovid gives the names of three of the Oneiroi including that of Phantasos, who takes the form of inanimate objects in prophetic dreams, Phobetor, the god of nightmares, who can take the form of beasts and monsters, and Morpheus, the god of dreams, who can take the form of men and is seen to be tasked as a messenger to the gods.

Ovid, Metamorphoses 11. 585 ff (trans. Melville) (Roman epic C1st B.C. to C1st A.D.) :  "[Hera commands the messenger Iris summon Dream :] ‘Iris (Rainbow), my voice’s trustiest messenger, hie quickly to the drowsy hall of Somnus (Sleep) [Hypnos], and bid him send a Dream of Ceyx drowned to break the tidings to [his wife] Alcyone.’  Then Iris, in her thousand hues enrobed traced through the sky her arching bow and reached the cloud-hid palace of the drowsy king [the God of Sleep] … Around him everywhere in various guise lie empty Somnia (Dreams) [Oneiroi], countless as ears of corn at harvest time or sands cast on the shore or leaves that fall upon the forest floor.  There Iris entered, brushing the Somnia (Dreams) aside, and the bright sudden radiance of her robe lit up the hallowed place; slowly the god his heavy eyelids raised, and sinking back time after time, his languid drooping head nodding upon his chest, at last he shook himself out of himself, and leaning up he recognized her and asked why she came, and she replied : ‘Somnus (Sleep) [Hypnos], quietest of the gods, Somnus, peace of all the world, balm of the soul, who drives care away, who gives ease to weary limbs after the hard day’s toil and strength renewed to meet the morrow’s tasks, bid now thy Dreams, whose perfect mimicry matches the truth, in Ceyx’s likeness formed appear in Trachis to Alcyone and feign the shipwreck and her dear love drowned. So Juno [Hera] orders.’  Then, her task performed, Iris departed, for she could no more endure the power of Somnus, as drowsiness stole seeping through her frame, and fled away back o'er the arching rainbow as she came. The father Somnus (Sleep)  chose from among his sons, his thronging thousand sons, one who in skill excelled to imitate the human form; Morpheus his name, than whom none can present more cunningly the features, gait and speech of men, their wonted clothes and turn of phrase. He mirrors only men; another forms the beasts and birds and the long sliding snakes. The gods have named him Icelos; here below the tribe of mortals call him Phobetor. A third, excelling in an art diverse, is Phantasos; he wears the cheating shapes of earth, rocks, water, trees–inanimate things. To kings and chieftains these at night display their phantom features; other dreams will roam among the people, haunting common folk.  All these dream-brothers the old god passed by and chose Morpheus alone to undertake Thaumantias’ [Iris’] commands; then in sweet drowsiness on his high couch he sank his head to sleep.  Soon through the dewy dark on noiseless wings flew Morpheus and with brief delay arrived at Trachis town and, laying his wings aside, took Ceyx’s [ghostly] form and face and, deathly pale and naked, stood beside the poor wife’s bed. His beard was wet and from his sodden hair the sea-drips flowed; then leaning over her, weeping, he said : ‘Poor, poor Alcyone! Do you know me, your Ceyx? Am I changed in death? Look! Now you see, you recognize–ah! Not your husband but your husband’s ghost. Your prayers availed me nothing. I am dead. Feed not your heart with hope, hope false and vain. A wild sou'wester in the Aegaeum sea, striking my ship, in its huge hurricane destroyed her. Over my lips, calling your name–calling in vain–the waters washed. These tidings no dubious courier brings, no vague report: myself, here, shipwrecked, my own fate reveal. Come, rise and weep! Put on your mourning! Weep! Nor unlamented suffer me to join the shadowy spirits of Tartara (the Underworld).’  So Morpheus spoke, spoke too in such a voice as she must think her husband’s (and his tears she took for true), and used her Ceyx’ gestures. Asleep, she moaned and wept and stretched her arms to hold him, but embraced the empty air. ‘Oh wait for me!’ she cried, ‘Why haste away? I will come too.’  Roused by her voice’s sound and by her husband’s ghost, now wide awake, she looked … but found him nowhere … She cried, ‘… He is dead, shipwrecked and drowned. I saw him, knew him, tried to hold him–as he vanished–in my arms. He was a ghost, but yet distinct and clear, truly my husband’s ghost, though to be sure his face was changed, his shining grace was gone. Naked and deathly pale, with dripping hair, I saw him–woe is me!’"  [N.B. Ovid uses the original Greek names for the three gods of dreams.] – Theoi.com

Sources (further reading): Oneiroi (Theoi.com), Morpheus (Theoi.com), Oneiroi (Wikipedia.com), Morpheus (Wikipedia.com), Phobetor (Wikipedia.com), Phantasos (Wikipedia.com)

U P G

UPG is an acronym for unverified personal gnosis and refers to interactions with entities that are not supported by the original mythos. Here I explain what I have found deities tend to expect and how I recommend starting a relationship with Morpheus.

There is a general consensus by revivalist or reconstruction polytheists that deities prefer to be honored in a modernized equivalent of how they were honored in their ancient culture – though this certainly isn’t the rule. Some deities are more specific and demanding than others while some really do not care. Morpheus has been found to be rather easy-going though he really prefers at least an attempt and, the more effort given to that attempt, the happier he is. The term used for the reconstruction/revival of the ancient Greek religion is called Hellenismos and more information can be found below.

Building a relationship with a deity is where one often starts to part with traditional lore and become influenced by others’ and one’s own UPG. So while you use the framework of Hellenismos for your worship, you use the UPG of others, and later your own, to form connections to build upon with the deity. Starting a relationship with a deity is a complicated business and often varies from person to person, but when I am asked how to start, people are often asking me about ways to approach Morpheus. I recommend starting with a small offering to Him. This post includes a list of associations for Morpheus, suggested offerings, and spells that can be used to offer and/or honor Him. I also recommend musing over what Morpheus means to you in your spiritual and personal development (Is he a messenger? Is he a teacher for astral travel, lucid dreaming, etc? Is he a symbol of hope for you to encourage you to reach for the stars and dream big? Is he a symbol of escapism? Is he just a god of dreams?).

Quick while still on the topic of UPG. When I first started working with Morpheus there was very little available to me. I ended up considering that as the god of dreams it would follow that daydreams would also fall to him. Daydreams are our fantasies and dreams. Those fantasies and dreams can spark some amazing art and writing or drive us to achieve the futures we dream up, so I often associate Morpheus with the arts and see Him as one of our biggest supporters in finding the strength and courage to achieve our dreams.

H E L L E N I S M O S

Hellenism 101 Pt 1 & Pt 2

Miasma, Katharmos and Preparing for the Gods

On pollution and purification

Purification in Hellenismos

Basic Hellenic Offering Ritual

On Khthonic Worship

Greek Phrases for Worship

A S S O C I A T I O N S

Epithets: Μορφευς, Morpheus, Shaper of Dreams, Sandman, Mildest of the Gods, Balm of the Soul (Ovid p. 165), Oneiros, Kai’Ckul, Lord L’Zoril, Shaper of Forms, Lord Shaper, Prince of Stories (The Sandman, Neil Gaiman), Dream Giver, Sleep’s Guest, Lord Shaper,  Father of Dreams, Lord of the Night, He Who Tells Mortals Stories, Formshaper, Shadowmaker Animal: Cats, Fireflies, Moths, Butterfly*, Racoons*, Wolves*, Crows Colors: Black, Blue, Gold, Purple, Silver, Red Crystal: Amethyst, Herkimer Diamond, Scolecite*, Hematite*, Lapis Lazuli* Celestial Body: Moon Day: Night Direction: West Element: Water Incense: Opium, Lavender Moon: New Number: 6*,7* Plant: Chamomile, Dandelion (in seed), Lavender, Poppy Season: Winter Sun In: Pisces Rules: dreams, daydreams, lucid dreaming, meditation, astral travel **, imagination, creativity, inspiration, wishes, encouragement, communication, divination Other: feathers, wings, skeleton keys, stars, night, horn, ivory, tea, baths, sweet coffee

NOTE: A lot of this could actually work as associations for Hypnos, the Onoirei, Ikelos/Phobetor, Phantasos, and some could work for Nyx. Additionally this was originally posted to my old blog now an archive.

* Notes items not listed in lore or shared with other followers of/workers with; feel free to reblog to add personal commentary ** Depending upon one’s understanding on the astral; some may have an understanding that wouldn’t work with associating the astral with dreaming.

D E V O T I O N S / O F F E R I N G S

track your dreams on a calendar

keep a dream journal

get enough sleep

turn off your electronics one hour before bed (gets you in a deeper sleep faster)

perform an evening ritual

learn/practice lucid dreaming and/or meditation

write a letter to Morpheus before you go to sleep

herbs/teas associated with calmness, sleep, or dreaming

crystals/gemstones/minerals associated with dreams

stardust / dream sand

sleep-inducing herbs/flowers/etc

prophetic herbs/flowers/etc

horn and/or ivory (as in the horn/ivory gates thing)

wing/feather related things

sleep-related things (pillows, etc)

prayers

spells

playlists

M I S C

Personal Experiences

Morpheus and Dream Catchers

F O L L O W E R / D E V O T E E S

bibliophilicwitch

dreamingthedoe

Hermaiondiaktoros

kaesdeliveryservice

keysandtorches

nebulouswitch

nihilistic-void

nowitssovivid

occolteyes

oneiropoloi

orriculum

samuel-brien

stormsandsage

E - S H R I N E S

dreamingofmorpheus

midnightandpoppies

the-dream-king

[deadsculs]

( » » tasks | 027 ; because we are mortal. )

“Somebody has me, somebody takes me away, do you see, don't you see, to the courts of dead men. He frowns from under dark brows. He has wings. It is Thanatos.” — Euripides, Alcestis 259 ff

“... One of these [Hypnos], across the earth and the wide sea-ridges, goes his way quietly back and forth, and is kind to mortals, but the heart of the other one [Thanatos] is iron, and brazen feelings without pity are inside his breast.” — Hesiod, Theogony 758 ff

g e n e r a l   —

Diety: Θάνατος ( Thanatos, derived from θνῄσκω meaning ‘to die, be dying’ ) — God of Peaceful Death.

Mortal Identity: Αλεξιος ( Alexios, meaning ‘helper’ or ‘defender’ )

Face Claim: Aidan Gillen

Siblings: Hypnos, Eris, Cer, Nemesis, Morpheus, Phobetor, and Phantasos

b i o g r a p h y   —

Thanatos is one of the many children of Nyx, created on her own in the darkness, that was born before the Titans. A direct descendent of Chaos, he saw the Titans swallow their children and then them being slain or imprisoned by the children they had sought to kill. Cer had her day to reap gods and drink their spilled blood then, but Thanatos was more patient. There would be time to collect his souls, whether they be god or mortal, to carry down to the Underworld and he would have his fill of life blood.

Then the Olympians rose to power. They were squabbling children to him — drunks and liars, adulterers and murderers ( oh, but Cer loved them for all their violence ), braggarts and thieves — young and doomed to fail. Doomed to be cut down by each other or their half-divine children or the monsters they created and abandoned at will. Thanatos knew he would see the end of them eventually.

But he enjoyed the Olympians, Thanatos could reap an endless crop of mortal souls under their rule. He could consume the slowed blood of those who died of old age or long sicknesses or in their sleep ( Hypnos disliked that, giving up the quieted souls in his realm to his twin brother to take to the River Styx, but Thanatos had his appointed time to claim as well ) without any troubles from them. There were even the few instances he could collect the demigods — the children of mortals seduced by gods — and taste their golden ichor, faint but enough to detect in their stilled red, and it pleased his darker side to taste the god’s blood.

However, the king of the Olympians — the child who had killed his father and saved his siblings to become the new generation of Gods and Goddesses — looked down on him. Zeus considered himself more powerful than any of his siblings, or Thanatos himself, who would come to claim him eventually if Cer didn’t. Thanatos wanted to exert his own will, he would decide who to claim and who to not, he was powerful enough to do so — he was owed this after all this endless time. 

He didn’t want to pry the small slip of a soul of an infant boy from his sickly body, and Zeus made him mortal for it. Thanatos could laugh at the absurdity of it, to make Death mortal. Yet he was pulled from his silent corner of the Underworld with his brother, and was placed in a human body, susceptible to the ravages of death. 

Yet Thanatos was patient, he would be there at the end of all of it. He was ageless and he would outlast any petty deity, he would claim them in the end. Thanatos saw the end of the Titans and he would see the end of the Olympians. He didn’t mind the morality, it was interesting to see what the humans lived each day, to see what they clung to so desperately. Zeus’ time would come to an end, and he would resume his rightful place. 

h e a d c a n o n s   —

He’s not all that excitable, has a resting... calm face? He just neutral constantly. Basically this emoji ‘ :| ’ come to life. Or he just looks disappointed in you.

He’s just trying to figure out human things. Like sex, sleeping or eating? They’re weird. He hates eating tbh, remembering to fuel his body is a chore for him.

Thanatos loves his siblings, far more than any of the Olympians or their offspring, although he likes the children of Aphrodite and Ares the best.

p l o t s   —

Hypnos / TBA

TBW

Cer / Olympia

She is his closest sibling, aside from his twin of course, and delivers the other side of the death that comes for every living thing — the violent kind. Sometimes he envies her for taking those who die with hot blood in their veins, he would like to taste a life blood not sluggish and slowed, but he knows he is her calm and Cer is his fury.  

Asclepius / Makarios

Thanatos has to admit, he is impressed by Asclepius. He had hovered over the demigod on many occasions, yet never had a chance to claim him. Instead, this puny little child, not even fully divine, took souls back from him. Asclepius could prevent the soul from losing its connection to the earthly form and this ability, this stealing back of life from Thanatos’ greedy hands, made Death question his role which lead to Zeus casting him down. 

Phobetor / TBA

TBW

Morpheus / TBA

TBW

Medusa / TBA

Medusa once called upon him to take her away from her wretched life but Thanatos found her soul still stubbornly clinging to her body. The violated woman wanted revenge more than a peaceful death, she wasn’t one to let go and give up. Thanatos admired her for that, and felt some measure of pride when she became a monster to defend herself from the evils that pursued her.

Nyx / TBA

TBW

Hades / Aidoneus

TBW

Nemesis / TBA

His younger sister, angry and sudden in her righteous wrath. Her implacable, and unavoidable, redistribution of justice — a balancing of scales to strike down hubris with her whip and dagger. The rush of her wings always made him smile. Others might call her a monster, but he called her something else: divine impartiality. Something sorely needed in this age of Olympians and their favoritism. 

Enyo / Bellona

TBW

Eros / TBA

TBW

[spiteweaver]

Who here remembers Dark!Phantasos? :3c

[spiteweaver]

previous | next

“Come on, hurry up!”

“If you go any slower, you’ll miss it.”

“It’s on the beach!”

“Myrtle says it’s important.”

“Slow down!” Dreamweaver shouted over the rush of wind in their ears, but neither Morpheus nor Phobetor relented. The twins had been flying for mere months, and yet they could outpace even Phantasos, who was struggling to keep them in sight among low-hanging spring rain clouds. “You’re going to pull a muscle!” Dreamweaver tried again. “You’re going to strain, er, something-or-other!”

Beside them, Banrai chuckled, and maneuvered closer, so that his broad wings cast them in shadow. “You’re worrying too much, dear,” he said. “They’ve never flown this far before. Let them stretch their legs--or, rather, wings.”

“It’s all right, dede!” Phantasos called back. “I can fly faster than they can fall!”

Dreamweaver only groaned in response.

“There it is!” Morpheus squealed. “Look, look, you can see it from here!”

As the royal family dipped down below the cloudline, Dreamweaver thought at first that Danu had risen from the depths to speak with them, and that this must be what was so very important. Only when they drew nearer to the shore did they realize that what they were looking at was not a dragon, but an airship, larger and more magnificent than any they had ever imagined. It was Lightning-make, if the sophistication of its machinations was any indication...

...and it was docking just outside of Seaside.

“This is either really good,” Phantasos said, “or really bad.”

The twins were the first to arrive. Morpheus’ landing was clumsy, and Phobetor had to catch them as they stumbled, but they were off the very next moment. Myrtle greeted them with a warm smile. “We brought da and dede!” Morpheus informed brightly. “Can we go and see the airship now?!”

“You promised to let them see the airship?” Dreamweaver said as they alighted in the sand beside their children. “Myrtle, what have I told you about spoiling them?”

“I didn’t think there would be any harm in it,” said Myrtle in his dreamy voice. “It’s not a warship; we examined it thoroughly before clearing it for landing.”

“Then what’s it doing here?” Dreamweaver asked.

“Dreamy, they’re tourists,” Banrai said, squeezing his mate’s shoulder bracingly. “We get them all the time. A clan as large as ours, in as central a location as ours, with as many resources and local attractions as ours--well, it’s bound to attract sightseers.”

“I know that,” Dreamweaver mumbled.

“Then let’s go and watch the landing.”

Unable to find a flaw in their husband’s logic, Dreamweaver dismissed the twins with a reluctant wave of their hand. Before they could charge forward, however, Phantasos had scooped them both up in his arms. “Me and Ozy will keep an eye on ‘em,” he offered, “and I reckon Thal’ll show up soon enough, seeing as his boyfriend’s here and all.”

“Let’s go,” Ozymandias said, and, grabbing his young ward by the scruff of his neck, propelled him forward. “I’ll keep an eye on them--all of them.”

“Thank you, Ozymandias,” Dreamweaver replied.

“It looks like the vendors are already setting up shop at the landing site,” Banrai said, squinting against the harsh midday sun. “We had best go along and make sure they don’t try to swindle anyone out of anything. I’d hate to gain a reputation as a tourist trap.”

So the pair, along with Myrtle, made their way up the shore to where the ship was just beginning to touch down. Its propellers kicked up a cloud of sand in their wake, but this didn’t seem to deter any of the curious onlookers--nor the merchants hoping to make quick coin. Dreamweaver scanned the craft for Lightning weaponry, but saw only smooth, glimmering copper. If it was a warship, it was unlike any they had ever encountered.

“It’s very pretty,” Myrtle said.

“It’s very impressive,” Banrai added. “I’ve never seen one so large.”

“That’s because the big ones are always warships,” Dreamweaver reiterated. “Dragons have little need of them outside of conflict. If they don’t fly, they walk.”

“Don’t be that way, Dreamy.” Banrai pulled them close, and pressed a kiss to their temple. “Even Snappers can grow weary of walking everywhere.”

“I know,” Dreamweaver conceded, “I just can’t stand the smell.”

Finally, with a resounding boom that shook the earth beneath their feet, the airship came to rest in the sand. Banrai took the lead, parting the crowd so that Dreamweaver and Myrtle could pass, and soon, they stood before the gangway, already thronging with eager passengers. As Banrai had predicted, they were tourists, many with children, and Dreamweaver heaved a sigh of relief when they caught sight of the newcomers gawking at them.

“There,” said Banrai, “you see? You worried yourself for nothing--again.”

“Yes,” Dreamweaver agreed, “but that’s my job, isn’t it? Ah, I’ve never been happier to be stared at by so many strange eyes.”

“They think you’re beautiful,” Banrai said.

“They think I’m unusual,” Dreamweaver replied.

“Can’t it be both?” Myrtle asked.

“Welcome to Clan Feldspar and the Analemma Dominions! Enjoy your stay!”

Dreamweaver pursed their lips. “It would seem our son is already making friends.”

Indeed, Phantasos had taken to greeting their guests with perhaps a mite too much enthusiasm. He shook each hand that was offered to him, and was able to point out every last place of interest on every single map he was shown. Meanwhile, the ship’s younger passengers, buzzing with pent-up energy from their long voyage, joined Morpheus and Phobetor in a romp up and down the shore--under Ozymandias’ watchful eye.

“He’s better at this than us,” Banrai said.

“Well,” said Dreamweaver, flashing their husband a nasty grin, “we’ll see how he feels about it when we make him the official welcome wagon.”

Banrai was about to rib them for their mean streak when a call of, “Hey down there!” rang out above the clamor. Dreamweaver’s head snapped up, their ears flicking forward inquisitively. The voice was a familiar one, but the memory of its owner slipped between their fingers like the fine sand under their feet. He stood above them on the ship’s railing, hanging precariously with one arm outstretched, his features obscured by the sun at his back.

Then a cloud bank moved across it, and Dreamweaver gasped.

“Lutece?”

@nostlenne  @serthis-archivist @airris-fr @reanimatedfr @jollyroger-fr @megane-pigeon @griminal-rising @windkissesfr

[spiteweaver]

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“Lutece!” Banrai cried.

“Banrai!”

“Lutece?” Dreamweaver said again.

“Dreamweaver!”

“Lutece!” Myrtle exclaimed.

“Myrtle!”

“Lutece!” Phantasos declared.

“All right,” said Dreamweaver, “that’s enough of that.”

Lutece laughed, and to a crowd of cheering bystanders, leapt from the side of the ship. Dreamweaver clutched Banrai’s arm tightly, their hair growing wild with panic, but Lutece landed before them with all the grace of his lovely mother. (Although they thought he more closely resembled his reckless father, in a number of ways.)

“Delphine and Corentin’s boy,” Dreamweaver said, and immediately pulled Lutece into an embrace equal parts warm and crushing. “I cannot tell you how wonderful it is to see you again, dear one. It’s been far too long.”

“I wanted to come back sooner,” Lutece insisted, “but I thought I ought to get established first--augh!”

“You--didn’t--visit!” Phantasos chided, lifting Lutece off his feet with ease. “You--didn’t--write! You were my first love, you know? You said you’d never forget me, and then you ran off to the Shifting Expanse for two cycles!”

“Am I still your one and only?” Lutece asked.

“Eh, you were taller than me then,” Phantasos replied (Dreamweaver could tell that Lutece wanted to point out Phantasos’ ability to change his height at will, but wisely kept it to himself), “and you could beat me in a wrestling match. I’m pretty sure I’d wipe the floor with you now.” He swung Lutece around, then set him back on his feet. “Case in point.”

“So that’s how you choose your drakes,” Lutece teased.

Looking at him now, Dreamweaver could hardly believe he was the same little Lutece they had known so long ago. He’d grown into a fine young drake, with wild eyes and calloused hands. They recalled him as quiet and shy, always found in the shadows of his peers, but now he kissed Phantasos’ cheeks without a hint of bashfulness, almost seeming to revel in the attention.

Their expression softened, and they guided Lutece back to them (much to their son’s chagrin), brushing the hair out of his face. “You’ve come into your own,” they said. “The Shifting Expanse did you some good, I see.”

“You’re not really allowed to be timid over there,” Lutece replied with another laugh.

“What brings you back?” Banrai asked. “Not that we aren’t thrilled to have you, but I hope it isn’t anything serious.”

“Not at all!” Lutece assured. “I’d always meant to come back! Maman and papa have gone into exaltation, my siblings all have lives of their own, business is booming, and so I thought now was the perfect time!”

Lutece cleared his throat, and Dreamweaver saw a shard of the boy he’d once been in the way he cast his gaze downward. “I wanted to come home once I’d made something of myself,” he confessed. “I couldn’t show my face if I had nothing to offer...”

“Oh!” Dreamweaver took his hand in theirs. “That doesn’t matter,” they said, “we’re just happy to have you back!”

“Stop,” Lutece whined, “you’ll make me cry.”

“We’re the ones who should be crying,” Banrai said, and slung an arm around Lutece’s shoulders. “When we last saw you, you were no bigger than Morpheus and Phobetor.”

“Speaking of...”

Phantasos gave a shrill whistle, and the twins came to him--Morpheus tumbling head-over-heels, Phobetor with their hands shoved in their pockets. Phobetor gave Lutece a thorough examination before asking, “Who’s he supposed to be?” in just about the rudest tone they could manage.

“Brat,” Phantasos jeered, but before he could tug on his younger sibling’s ear, Phobetor had scurried out of reach. “He’s your elder, so show some respect.”

“Respect is earned,” Phobetor retorted.

Dreamweaver smirked. “You’ve taught them to be a bit too independent, haven’t you, Phantasos?”

“Hullo, Mr. Lutece!” Morpheus said, and thrust out their hand for Lutece to shake--which he did, very graciously. “I’m Morpheus, and that’s Phobetor! We’re Phanny’s little siblings!”

“Th-they’re yours, founder?” Lutece stammered. “But I thought...”

“They were even more of a happy accident than Phantasos,” Dreamweaver replied. “We never expected to have another successful pregnancy, let alone twins. Morpheus, Phobetor, Lutece was born in the territories, and now he’s come back; you can trust him.”

“Why’d he leave in the first place?” Phobetor asked, crossing their arms over their chest and jutting out their chin.

“My father was a mechanic.” Lutece squatted, and Phobetor’s bravado wavered. They took a step back, dragging Morpheus with them. “Feldspar wasn’t exactly technologically inclined in those days,” Lutece elaborated, “so him and my maman--that’s my ma--picked up the whole family and moved us out near the Lightning Farm.”

“Don’t let Phobetor’s cold welcome get to you,” Banrai said, “they just take Dreamy’s lessons about ‘stranger danger’ to heart!”

“Bet a ride on Cloud Nine’ll change their tune.”

Phobetor crinkled their nose, but Morpheus peered from behind their sibling’s shoulder with wide eyes. “What’s Cloud Nine?” they asked, their little fingers fidgeting with Phobetor’s shirt.

“My illustrious and esteemed vessel.” Lutece winked. “Want a tour?”

“Really?! I can go aboard?!” Their uncertainty all but forgotten, Morpheus bounded forward to yank on Dreamweaver’s sleeve. “Dede, please, please let us go!”

“What ‘us?’” Phobetor grumbled.

“You’re coming and you’re gonna like it!”

“That’s what you meant by ‘established?’” Dreamweaver turned to survey the airship, once more marveling at its great size and immaculate artistry. Now that they looked closer, they could see its name carved into its side in bold letters: Cloud Nine. “You’re a pilot?”

“Pilot,” Lutece replied, “and captain, and navigator, and mechanic--although I leave most of the technical stuff to my business partner!”

“Business partner?”

“You didn’t think I did all this on my own, did you?” Lutece snorted and rolled his eyes. “Shasta’d kill me if I didn’t give her equal credit--or, actually, majority credit, seeing as she’s the one who designed ol’ Nines. We’ve been working together for, oh, a full cycle now, I’d reckon.”

“Is she cute?” Phantasos asked, nudging Lutece playfully in the ribs.

“Sure,” Lutece replied, “but I’m not really her type. She’d date Dreamweaver before she dated me.” Grinning mischievously, he nudged Phantasos in return, hard enough to make the young heir double over. “We’re thinking about nesting, though, since we both want kids ‘n all. That’s another reason I came back; no better place than Feldspar to raise a family.”

“My spleen,” Phantasos wheezed, “my gallbladder.”

“Those aren’t on the same side, Phantasos,” Myrtle said. “Isaiah would be very disappointed.”

“Hey, you lazy son of a bitch!” As one, the group looked up to where another figure now stood, leaning over the very railing Lutece had leapt from. Judging by the blue-green feathers along her neck, she was a Coatl--and not a happy one. “I know you like playing at being a rogue without a cause,” she spat, “but we need every hand we can get up here!”

“Shasta,” Lutece hollered back, “these are the founders and their children! You should come and greet them!”

“Are you off your fuckin’ block?!”

“Well,” Lutece said, “if she won’t come to you, I suppose I’ll have to bring you to her.” Timidly, painfully so, he offered his arm to Dreamweaver, and they were struck again by how much he had grown, and yet how little had changed. “If you’re amenable,” he went on, “I’d like it if I could give all of you the grand tour.”

Dreamweaver smiled. “I would like that too.”

@nostlenne  @serthis-archivist @airris-fr @reanimatedfr @jollyroger-fr @megane-pigeon @griminal-rising @windkissesfr

[spiteweaver]

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“You’re certain it can’t wait?”

Phantasos looked to Ozymandias, who shook his head. “Positive.”

“Well--” Sighing, Dreamweaver dropped the boxes of scrolls they’d been carrying on the front stoop, then turned to give the pair their full attention-- ���best get on with it, boys. This is an inconvenient time for another catastrophe.”

“It’s not a catastrophe,” Phantasos said.

“Yet,” Ozymandias added.

Phantasos looked like he wanted to cuff Ozymandias ‘round the ears, but thought better of it, settling instead for a withering glance. “Ozy's noticed an unusual presence in Aphaster,” he went on, “and thought you ought to know about it.”

“I don’t mean to be rude,” said Dreamweaver, “but that’s par for the course for both our clan and theirs.” They motioned to the three of them with raised brows. “Exhibits A, B, and C.”

“It isn’t Other,” Ozymandias said, “but it is like no being I have ever met. I’ve yet to catch a glimpse of it. It keeps close to the boy, ah...”

“Invigilavi?”

Ozymandias cursed under his breath. “I can never remember their names...”

“If there’s something weird interested in Lavi,” Phantasos persisted, “we should look into it. I don’t doubt that he and Rebis are capable, but they’re still learning. They need a catastrophe about as much as we do.”

“Dede!”

Morpheus’ cry carried across the busy square, high and shrill with panic. Even before they reached them, red-faced and panting, the trio could see that they were distressed. Had they not been running so hard, they would have been in tears, and collapsed into a shuddering heap the moment Dreamweaver’s arms closed around them.

“We’ll discuss this later,” Dreamweaver said to Phantasos, who gave a stiff nod and knelt at his sibling’s side.

“Hey, Morph,” he said, “what’s up? Where’s Pho?”

“S-s-something’s w-w-wrong with th-th-them!” Morpheus sobbed.

Neither Dreamweaver nor Phantasos wasted time seeking clarification. Phantasos started off in the direction Morpheus had come from at once, with Ozymandias hot on his heels, while Dreamweaver called for Banrai.

Their husband’s head appeared out of one of the upstairs windows. “What’s happened?” he asked. When he caught sight of Morpheus weeping in Dreamweaver’s arms, he added, “Don’t tell me Phobetor’s been picking on Morpheus again.”

“No,” Dreamweaver replied, “something’s wrong with Phobetor.”

It wasn’t hard to guess what Morpheus meant by “wrong.” Phantasos arrived to chaos at the south gate. A group had gathered and were attempting to intervene, but no one dared draw too near. There was blood on the air, and a pitiful whimpering from somewhere in the crowd.

It wasn’t Phobetor’s voice.

“Move!” Phantasos shouted. “If you aren’t going to help me, then get out of my way!”

“You heard the boy,” Ozymandias said, “step aside, or be tossed.”

“Phantasos!” A wild head of pink hair appeared above the throng. Phantasos made for it, nudging aside his stunned clanmates until he could grasp Sirius’ outstretched hand. “Phantasos,” Sirius gasped, “I tried to stop them--t-to pull them off, but--”

“What happened?” Phantasos asked.

“One of the older fledglings called Morpheus--” Sirius cast his gaze down. “He called them something nasty. Next thing we knew, Phobetor was on him.”

“Oh hell!”

By now, Ozymandias had cleared a path for them, and Phantasos charged ahead into the fray. Phobetor’s knuckles were caked in blood, but they showed no signs of slowing. The fledgling beneath them was barely conscious; he’d had the sense to cover his face, though it would offer little resistance against a dragon of Phobetor’s ilk. It wouldn’t be long before Phobetor found their mark.

“You--” Slam. “--stupid--” Crack. “--bastard!”

The sound of bone shattering spurred Phantasos back into action. Steeling himself for the worst, he rolled up his sleeves, looped his arms under Phobetor’s, and pulled. His sibling came up easily, as he was older and stronger than them, but their fists continued to flail wildly, their eyes never leaving their target.

“I’ll teach you a lesson!” they screamed. “I’ll make you pay!”

“Phobetor!” Phantasos hauled them backwards, reaching up to cover their eyes as he did so. This seemed to calm them, or perhaps they had merely exhausted themself. “Phobetor,” Phantasos said again, “can you hear me?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you remember what happened?”

“...Yeah.”

“Good.” Phantasos looked to Ozymandias, and then to the injured fledgling, writhing in a pool of his own blood. “Get him to Isaiah,” he ordered, “I’ll take care of things here until da and dede arrive.”

“He called Morpheus...” Phobetor’s voice was lost in the thunderous rush of Ozymandias’ take off, but Phantasos felt their fingers grasping at his sleeves. Their breathing had grown ragged again, their teeth clenched hard enough to groan. “He called Morpheus a half-breed.”

“Easy,” Phantasos soothed, “don’t get yourself riled up again. Pho, you can’t beat someone ‘cause they called you a name.”

“He didn’t call me anything,” Phobetor said. “He called Morpheus a half-breed.”

“Excuse us. Sorry, it’s an emergency.”

Phantasos was relieved to feel his father’s hand close around his shoulder, and then Dreamweaver’s palm against his cheek. He leaned into it as they stroked his face. “Are you all right?” they asked.

“Fine,” Phantasos replied, “it’s not our blood.”

“Oh goodness.”

“He called Morpheus a half-breed!” Phobetor wrenched themself free of their brother’s grasp, so that they could look Dreamweaver in the eye. “He deserved what he got! He insulted Morpheus, he insulted Phantasos, and he insulted you! He thinks your blood is dirty, dede!”

“Be still,” Dreamweaver commanded. The sternness of their tone ensured Phobetor’s compliance, and they bowed their head low. “Phobetor, cruel words are to be dealt with diplomatically, not with violence.”

“But--”

“You did nothing but prove his point,” Dreamweaver continued. “You became the beast he thinks we are.”

“He’s a bully!” Phobetor insisted.

“Now you’re a worse one.”

“Dreamy...” Banrai touched his mate’s arm gently, and the anger drained from their face. Phobetor’s eyes were full of frustrated tears. Banrai moved to wipe them away, but Phobetor turned their head. “Standing up to bullies is admirable,” Banrai said, “but there’s a right way to do it, and there’s a wrong way to do it.”

“Yes,” Dreamweaver agreed, “that’s what I was trying to get at.”

“I know,” Phobetor mumbled, “but I was just so...”

“Dede,” Phantasos said, noting the slight furrow of Dreamweaver’s brow, “what are you thinking?”

“What did it feel like, Phobetor?” Dreamweaver asked. “Do you remember what you felt when he called Morpheus that word?”

“Um...” Phobetor rubbed their face with the heels of their hands, the only clean parts left with which to dry their tears. “I’ve never been so mad,” they replied. “I hated him. All I could think about was hurting him.” Suddenly, they looked up, their eyes wide. “I wanted to kill him, dede.”

“Phantasos--” Dreamweaver met their eldest son’s gaze, and Phantasos felt something heavy drop into his gut-- “did you notice anything odd about them when you arrived?”

“It’s that, isn’t it?”

“What did you see?”

Phantasos bit his lip, rolled his shoulders, looked anywhere but at his dede. His insides felt like molten metal, sloughing out of a forge, only to miss its mark and fall impotently to the ground. He brought a hand to his lips. His fingers were red. He couldn’t stop staring.

“It was black...” Morpheus shuffled to Dreamweaver’s side, but shied away behind their progenitor when Phobetor’s eyes fell on them. “It was black like smoke,” they murmured, “and I could hear it saying things in Pho’s voice. Pho didn’t want to hurt him; it was the other Pho.”

“No,” Phobetor said, “it was me. Don’t make up stories to keep me out of trouble.”

“You’re both right.” Dreamweaver stood, pulling Phobetor up and into their arms. Morpheus clung to their robes as they strode forward. “Come,” they said, “I have something to tell you both.”

@nostlenne​ @sophiellum-fr @serthis-archivist @airris-fr @jaxxem @reanimatedfr @jollyroger-fr @megane-pigeon @griminal-rising​ @windkissesfr​

[spiteweaver]

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“We can stay until the end of Trickmurk.”

“No, no, the pleasure district’s at its best during Trickmurk!”

“There’s so much to do during a festival. I haven’t made a list for you.”

“I don’t need a list, I’ve lived through enough festivals to manage one!”

“That’s not how it works--”

“Dede!”

Phantasos’ hands came down hard on his progenitor’s shoulders, and for the first time, they were faced with the harsh reality of their son’s exponential growth. He had his father’s grip and their raw magical potential; they could feel it radiating from the tips of his fingers and dissipating impotently into their robes, a sign that he was growing weary of their little game.

“I will be fine,” he insisted through clenched teeth, “so go, or I will make you go.”

“I never thought I’d see the day that my baby boy would threaten me--” Dreamweaver reached up to cup Phantasos’ cheek-- “least of all the one he could make good on it.”

“We aren’t even leaving the territories, Dreamy,” Banrai reminded patiently, though his brows were slightly furrowed in a way that suggested he was as exasperated as Phantasos. “You’ve taught him well. Let him spread his wings a bit. He’ll have a lot more than a single festival on his hands once we retire after all.”

“Who said I was retiring?” Dreamweaver retorted.

“Dreamy!”

“Dede!”

Deciding that they dared push their luck no further, Dreamweaver relented by pressing a kiss to Phantasos’ forehead. “We’ll be back in a week,” they said. “If I hear from Solaire that you’ve gotten up to any mischief, there will be consequences. I’m giving you an adult responsibility, and so you will be punished as an adult should you neglect it.”

“Understood,” Phantasos replied, and returned his dede’s kiss. Then softly, so that only they could hear him, he added, “You’ve earned this rest, so please don’t spoil it worrying about me.”

The two parted, but Dreamweaver clung tightly to Phantasos’ hands for a moment longer. Finally, with a gentle squeeze, they knelt to kiss the twins as well. “Watch after your brother,” they said to Morpheus. “He’ll be less likely to cause trouble with a tattle-tale like you around.”

“I’m not a tattle-tale!” Morpheus cried.

“You tattle on me all the time,” Phobetor grumbled, and made a show of wiping their cheek once Dreamweaver had kissed it. It wasn’t obvious by the somewhat dour expression they wore, but Phantasos knew that Phobetor would miss their parents more than any of the royal children.

“You as well, my dear one,” Dreamweaver said. The look they shared with Phobetor was stern, tempered by love. “You and I have a greater responsibility than any of our kin. Use what you have learned wisely.”

Phobetor’s hands balled into fists, their nails digging crescents into the vulnerable skin of their palms. They gave a stiff nod. “I’ll only use it if I have to,” they promised, “and never on a member of the clan.”

Seemingly satisfied with Phobetor’s answer, Dreamweaver straightened, and Banrai moved in to say his goodbyes to their children. He lingered longest with Silas, who had, until then, stood quietly to the side. “Say goodbye to Winter for us,” he requested.

“He wanted to see you off,” Silas said, “but his classes...”

“We’ll be a thirty-minute flight away in fair weather,” Banrai replied with a wave of his hand. “He's where he ought to be.”

“Send word at the first sign of trouble,” Dreamweaver instructed.

“Yes, dede,” said Phantasos.

“Silas, Samuel, keep him on a tight leash.”

“Yes, dede,” said Silas.

“They don’t need to keep me on any kind of leash!”

“Come on then, Dreamy,” Banrai urged as he shed his glamour, “we’ll be late! Arroyo’s expecting us by noon!”

“No funny business!” were Dreamweaver’s final words to Phantasos, carried on the wind as they soared on the updraft stirred by their husband’s take-off. The royal children watched until their parents were mere blips on the horizon. Morpheus sniffled quietly.

“Well,” Phantasos said, and clapped his hands together, “let’s get started!”

“What are we gonna do, Phanny?” Morpheus asked, wiping their nose on their sleeve. “Dede didn’t give us a lot of options...”

Phantasos smirked. “Dede’s not here.”

“Oh no,” Silas groaned. “Phantasos, for once, can’t we just do what dede asks?”

“We will,” Phantasos assured, “we’ll just also have a little fun!”

@sophiellum-fr @serthis-archivist @airris-fr @jaxxem @reanimatedfr @jollyroger-fr@megane-pigeon @griminal-rising​ @windkissesfr​

[spiteweaver]

9 (Which dragon would stand on a chair to get away from small and harmless bugs? Who would need to relocate the small bugs elsewhere?) & 20 (which dragon has a mancave with zebra-patterned rugs and lava lamps?)

9. Which dragon would stand on a chair to get away from small and harmless bugs? Who would need to relocate the small bugs elsewhere?

Lestat is all about beauty, so if the bug’s not as lovely as he is, he wants nothing to do with it–especially cockroaches. He views them as inherently dirty things, and has a crippling fear of them as such.

Shea, on the other hand, sees beauty in, ah, unusual places. He has quite a fondness for bugs of all shapes and sizes, and while Lestat cannot possibly comprehend what he sees in them, he’s very glad to have Shea’s help when “little visitors” come calling.

20. Which dragon has a man cave with zebra-patterned rugs and lava lamps?

You look me in the eye and tell me that’s not Phantasos’ exact aesthetic.

[spiteweaver]

@cork-fr (who I cannot tag for some reason) shared this nifty RPG text generator, so I thought I’d play around with it!

Here’s the royal family!

[spiteweaver]

It’s so easy for stars to fade and die.