#trying to figure out

[the-east-art]

In Gravity House I can totally see Wendy showing Soos the majesty of arcades in the human realm and she probably gets up to a lot of exploring hijinks in the boiling isles and Soos tags along

[snexy-the-snail]

The Forge

Percy didn't like the forge.

Not because it was hot but because he could handle the heat. Not because it smelled like singed metal and oil; that was kind of the forge's whole thing. It was because when Percy stood in the forge of a god, every part of him that was human shrank. The roar of the flames, the weight of each tool, the precision of every unfinished construct reminded him he wasn't built for this. Not really. Not like the gods were.

He stood just outside the main chamber, fidgeting with Riptide's pen form in his hand. Hephaestus hadn't noticed him yet. Or maybe he had and was just giving Percy time to stop pretending he was fine.

Percy had hoped the buzzing in his head would calm once he left camp, but it hadn't. If anything, it got louder. He hadn't been sleeping — that much was obvious. He'd skipped dinner three nights in a row and barely noticed. When he did eat, everything tasted like campfire ash. Everything reminded him of the pit, of how he had to literally fight to survive.

The forge pulsed with warmth as he stepped in. Steam hissed from a pipe overhead. Sparks scattered across the stone, some briefly brushing with a firey hot touch that was almost comforting.

Hephaestus didn't look up from the automaton he was working on — a hulking, birdlike machine with wings that folded like steel origami. Something that Percy was sure of was to replace the statues they used in the Battle of Manhattan.

"You're three hours early, kid," the god said, voice gravel-thick and rumbling. "Or three days late. I don't keep track."

Percy didn't answer right away. His fingers curled around Riptide like it was the only solid thing left in his universe. Before he forced himself to release it. It wasn't exactly the god's fault that he hadn't been sleeping. The schedule had gotten messed up, and he hadn't approached any of the regulars.

"I couldn't sleep," he answers honestly after a moment. He wondered how much the forge god knew of the arrangement he had going on.

A beat of silence. Hephaestus didn't respond, but his hammer paused mid-swing. The sound of metal stopped with it. Maybe more than Percy had assumed to begin with. Shit.

"Haven't been able to, actually," Percy continued, hoping that talking would keep the questions from happening. The god was normally quiet, after all. The forge was never a place for words. "Every time I close my eyes, it's like—there's too much space in my head. Like someone cracked it open and poured noise in. It's different than demigod dreams; they're always different from what everyone says they have."

Another silence.

Then the hammer came down, gently this time, a final tap sealing whatever part the god had been working on. He set it aside, turning. His face was half-shadowed by the forge light, but his eyes glowed faintly, sorta like twin coals, bright enough to see through the cracks Percy didn't know he was showing.

"You've got that look," Hephaestus said quietly, stepping forward. "Same one I had after the first time I tried to build a heart."

Percy blinked. "You tried to—?" He was hoping to have the god launch in his story, but it faded once the god continued.

"Not the point," Hephaestus grunted. The limp in his right leg was audible even when he wasn't walking hard. Each uneven step thudded in time with Percy's own heartbeat, rising like a drumbeat." The point is that I recognize burnout when I see it. Gods burn differently, but mortals? They flicker. They flare."

His gaze softened as he reached Percy's side. "And sometimes they burn out."

Percy swallowed. He felt smaller again. Not because Hephaestus towered over him, but because he didn't, really. But the weight of knowing Percy was falling apart made it worse than if he'd yelled at him. It was like when Aphrodite had stolen him away; every time, Hermes would look at him like he was a candle burning the last bit of wick away.

"I'm not weak." He defends never liking the association with him being tired of being weak.

"Didn't say you were."

"I just-"

"You're tired, Percy." The name dropped like a hammer. "There's a difference."

For a moment, the only sound was the soft crackle of the forge fire behind them. Percy hated the silence, his heart rate quickening. He knew logically he shouldn't be afraid, but he didn't know Hephaestus all that well.

Hephaestus reached into a side alcove Percy hadn't noticed before and pulled out a thick, quilted blanket that looked hilariously out of place next to anvils and blades.

"Even volcanoes need time to cool." the god begins. "And you, you're burning rather hot right now for a sea child." The heavy quilt settles around his shoulders, Percy not sure how to move. Normally, this would be the part where the god shrank or grew and settled inside like some mythic nesting doll. That wasn't happening this time.

"I can't just sleep. I feel like. I'm scared I'll wake up, and it will be real; all of this is a dream."

"You're missing the moment your body begged you to stop. You're missing the part where this doesn't have to be a war." Hephaestus said, voice gentler now. A warm hand settled on his shoulder, a comforting squeeze forcing his thoughts to come back to the present.

Percy looked down. His hands were trembling just a little. His knees ached in that way that told him they were about to give if he didn't sit.

Hephaestus didn't flinch. Understanding passed through his expression like a forge wind even though Percy hadn't said one word.

"Whether you want it or not, you still need rest. You can't fight off what's coming if your bones are sand." He hesitated, then added, "And I've seen what happens when good people try to carry on without sleep. They lose the pieces that matter." Despite being a god of few words, Percy found that anything that Hephaestus said hit like a crashing wave. It is almost..cooling in a sense.

Something in Percy cracked.

Maybe it was the way the god said it. Maybe it was how the forge, for all its heat and pressure, somehow felt safe. He took a step toward the room, then another. His legs didn't buckle yet, but they felt close.

"Will you-" he stopped, voice thick. "Will you... can I.." He trails off, feeling ridiculous. He had asked gods before why it was so hard now.

"I'll be at the anvil; you sit and wait until you're ready."

Percy nodded slowly and went to sit on a chair. He focused on the quilt, heavy. Comforting. Real.

He lay down, pulling the fabric over himself. The pillow behind him smelled like smoke and iron and something ancient.

But it wasn't enough.

His fingers curled in the edge of the blanket, anchoring himself to the fabric like it could weigh him down enough to stop floating out of his skin. The forge hummed quietly behind him, the sound of metal shifting, fire breathing, and gods working, but inside him, the memories of the pit still haunted him any time he even dared to blink. Still roared within his consciousness.A few minutes later He sat up slowly, the quilt falling from his shoulders.

"Hephaestus."

The god didn't look up right away. "Hmm?"

Percy hesitated, lips parted, but the words tangled. His pulse was too loud. His body was too tired. His voice is too small.

"I need—" He swallowed. "I need you to do something."

That got the god's attention. He turned, the light from the forge casting his face in molten gold and deep shadows.

"I need you to... swallow. Um..eat? I..just hold?" His voice cracked. The last word felt like begging.

Hephaestus blinked, slow, as if translating the request. Hephaestus didn't answer. He didn't scoff, didn't dismiss, didn't even frown. He just regarded him with a gaze older than anything Percy would have known.

"I haven't really slept since the pit," Percy whispered. "I can close my eyes sometimes, yeah, but I don't fall asleep. I don't dream. I just... wait. And the noise gets louder. And I feel like I'm falling again, except nothing catches me this time. There's no river, there's no Annabeth, there's no relief."

The forge hissed behind them, metal shifting in sympathy.

Hephaestus exhaled slowly. His hands, blackened with soot and steel, flexed at his sides. "You're asking me to swallow you."

Percy flinched. "I know how it sounds."

"I know how it feels," Hephaestus said, his voice lower now, almost gentle. "You want stillness. Safety. Something that can't break. And gods, we provide that."

"Can you?" Percy hated how pleading he sounded. First off, asking to be eaten was embarrassing, but the fact he needed it to sleep was weird.

Hephaestus studied him, not like a mortal, not like a thing to be fixed, but like a relic that had cracked wrong under the pressure of something it wasn't meant to survive.

"I can." those few words sense echoes of comfort through Percy's body. He slumps, feeling like a large weight has been lifted. At this point, he was collecting Gods to eat him like the mythological cards Nico had been obsessed with.

"My young ones need it sometimes. You've helped them out a bit, 'especially Leo. I can return the favor." Hephaestus continues. The god stepped forward, his limp echoing through the room like a heartbeat. He knelt, surprisingly gentle for someone who built mountains. And then, slowly, wordlessly, he placed his hand on Percy's shoulder. Warmth spread from the god's touch, not searing but molten, like lava flowing around the edges of something jagged.

Like always, the dizzy feeling of getting small struck the boy. It was normal at this point, like getting a concussion or cut up at training. The hold moved from his shoulder to his entire body, scooping him up. Despite being calloused and massive, the god moved like he was delicate, like a glass statue he was working on.

The god brought Percy closer to his face. His eyes glowed like molten metal. He opened his mouth, and it was glowing like the inside of a volcano. It was less like the normal innards he was used to seeing. Aphrodite and every other god seemed to follow the same format; when it came to innards, Hephaestus was more like a machine in a way. There was no throat the way mortals had one. No slick flesh. Just that same constant, forging energy, folding inward like the mouth of a furnace made to unmake and remake things. They were more like coals than anything else. Percy half wondered if the god used his own body for forging at times. He didn't have much time to wonder as he was slipped inside carefully. The coal-like texture was odd, hot, and rough, dry almost. Nothing like he was used to.

When the god closed his mouth around him with the kind of slowness reserved for something delicate. The light did not fade once as the god's teeth shut around him with a soft clack. The coals beneath him shifted and burned brighter for a moment. It was oddly comforting.

Percy felt like his body was melting, but it wasn't. The feeling made him think of a puddle on the shore, just lost and close to home.

When Hephaestus swallowed, it wasn't exactly like being swallowed. It was more like rolling backward. He slid more into a metal-like tube, sliding down rather than anything else. Some of the coal followed him as he slid more into a room-like space, deep inside the god, until the world outside disappeared. Every inch of him was pressed by power — not pain, but reassurance. Like the feeling of deep water above him or blankets so heavy that they still shake his bones.

And then: silence.

Not absence.

Stillness.

Inside Hephaestus, the noise stopped. The pit quieted. The divine presence around him was heavy but familiar, ancient but kind. It didn't demand. It didn't command. It just held.

"I'm gonna have to keep..a journal on how you all are different." He mumbles, struggling to keep his eyes open. The one weakness he had when he was tired was a god's stomach. It was nearly impossible to stay awake, surrounded by a safe feeling.

Hephaestus laughed, the sound warm and rolling, the space creaking with the movement. It shifted from something hard to more soft and firm, like the couch Leo always went on and on about within his dad's forge.

"I look forward to seeing it, little whirlpool." The god soothes Percy, who is struggling to stay awake. He had a quip that died on his tongue as he finally drifted off to sleep. The last fleeting thought was that he never did help the god with whatever he had requested.

Held by a god, swallowed by ancient warmth, Percy finally slept.

And the forge burned on.

[thievinghippo]

I have played the game three times. You would think I would remember the order of what happens in Commorragh so I don't have to load the game and play through part of it to remember

At least I got to go through the reunion scene again. That's nice :D

[ricky-olson]

i want a bi icon for pride month but who do i make my subject be

[poolofunidentifiedfluid]

just finished season 2 of hannibal. hey. what the fuck

[mystxcfire]

Concept Art

Early 20s John Dory

(Horrible sketch, IK. It’s hard for me to draw trolls for some reason, but I’ll try and draw a better version of it.)

This is just a concept art for Time-Travel! JDs

For 20s JD, he looks more of a teenager as he was very underweight at the time despite being an adventurer. I feel like JD used to wear shoes but as time went on, he decided not to wear them any more.

For how he went grey, it’s basically like on and off type of thing, to the point where he created a lasting effect on him but as he grew older, he gotten better in hiding the long lasting effects of it.

It’s different for every troll when they turn grey. For John Dory, since he constantly went in and out of being grey, the color stayed a lot longer and faded slowly.

[brave-draws]

May touch them up some more, but I got in a drawing mood tonight and drew John Gaius and Harrow from The Locked Tomb!

Also, a small drawing I did of Thorns from Arknights.

[slhsawf]

Sometimes we are attracted to people that mirror something in us that we see that we haven’t quite figured out yet. And by observation, we try to love that person because it’s a part of ourselves we haven’t learned to accept.

[allo-frouto]

Would you rather:

Be cum all over your entire body?

Or

Have your pussy and ass overfilled with cum?

Yes.

[onecooooooolcat]

you would think french to english translation wld be easier for me a native english speaker vs environ 8 annees d'apprendre francais but NOPE i also do not know english (:

[sunflowergirl522]

What do we think about the sleepover starting today and ending the 1st/2nd??

[thievinghippo]

I really want to play DA:O but I refuse to play the game without a mod that fixes the dwarf proprotions and good lord, modding this game is confusing

I'm about ready to give us and simply move on to DA2 :(

[inspectorspacetimerevisited]

The Inspector is trying to figure out why everyone’s gone mad, when someone just strolling along bumps into him.

The man offers him no apologies, just goes about as if nothing were amiss. Viewers immediately recognise him as the man from the tinker’s shop in Covent Garden in 1925. How odd!

[aropride]

(so mad i can’t see straight) Yeah i just don’t think chat gpt is a good classroom tool

[chiptrillino-art]

(ID in ALT text)

Zuko is just playing hard to get