smithgod

[smithgod]

extremely low activity!   hi,  i’m sorry to have done this,  but i’m kicking this blog to extremely low activity,  mainly because my muse is elsewhere !!  i’ll still be around to do replies,  because i love all of my mutuals’ responds so much,  but not frequently at all.  thank u all so much!

[smithgod]

Margaret Atwood

I was so alone that every day was like eating my own heart.

Junot Diaz

James Baldwin, Giovanni's Room

Outline In Color, Eat Your Heart Out

Euripides, Medea

[smithgod]

APHRODITE

despite her dominian, marriage had never been something that aphrodite had ever truly wanted. she’d never once pictured herself a sweet little housewife, doting on a husband ( or wife, for that matter ). really, she had quite enjoyed everyone falling all over themselves for her, begging her for a mere chance to have her as a wife. she’d been almost resentful when zeus had given her away as if she was a trophy. she’d been even more resentful that it was clear he had picked hephaestus for the only reason that he clearly felt some guilt about something that had nothing to do with her. as if she was a toy a deadbeat dad could pick up in an attempt to soothe a kid he’d abandoned.

and if she had been resentful over that, she’d been furious when hephaestus did not seem suitably grateful that he’d gotten her as a wife. anger seeped in further when he seemed almost eager to be rid of her. did he not think her suitably attractive? ( despite being the goddess of beauty, aphrodite had always felt comically insecure about this - always compared to others, always the go to whenever a guy needed to flatter his lover about how his lover is simply more beautiful than aphrodite … ) side note aside, aphrodite grit her teeth when he remarked they did not have to acknowledge it.

❝ i have not truly thought about what to do with this marriage. ❞

it was a bitter statement ( and a lie ), delivered in a sickly sweet manner. her smile was brittle, like a tree in the dead of winter. it was bordering on contempt. she had thought about it, actually. she’d been consumed with how she’d managed to start a fight with her mere existence. how badly so many people had wanted to impress her. and yet he did not seem interested in doing so. it frustrated her that he seemed to have no true interest in her, even if she was nothing more than an apology note from a father who clearly sucked at his job. ❝ surely you do not want to be rid of me so easily, right ? ❞

she is sharp :   clearly a goddess who knows what she wants.

hephaestus does not flinch under her answer,   though his head lowers the longer this interaction continues,   chin moving closer to the top of his collarbone.   he supposes,   outwards looking in,  there would be no other way to describe this subtle action aside from dictating it as a sign of submission.   for the smithing god however,  it is simply   -    a helpless effort to hide.

but how can he,  really ?   with a burly body,  and an ugly demeanour ?   he is as obvious as a sore thumb;   as eye-catching as,   he believes,   she is attractive.   where she goes,   hephaestus is sure,   many gaze follow.   he knows the feeling.   but she is enchanting,   captivating to the eyes,   easy to worship and admire.   what a pair they’ve made.   his mother’s husband is certainly cruel,  to have them be tied together.

and hephaestus is the fool who’d said yes;   who had thought that the ruler of all olympians were merely pulling at his leg.    idiot.

❝    getting rid of you would   ...   would be the last of my intention.   ❞    he admits,  and though he does not meet her in the eyes,   his freckled cheeks burn scarlet.   shame courses through him,  thinking of how awkward and ridiculous he must look :   this misshapen god revealing even a speck of desire to be with the goddess of love and beauty.   even after everything   ...   he dare seek love ?

❝    i am   ...    unfit.   ❞    he pats his chest  -  a huge motion,   and he feels it,  the despair and anguish at the centre of him.   how he wishes,  so desperately,  he were   ...    more.    something someone will not discard;   something someone would not mock at with a sham marriage hoping,  surely,  to humiliate him.   to humiliate his wife.   oh,  his wife.   she does not deserve the title   -    she does not deserve to be dragged into this cruel trick.   

but how could he fix it ?    what,   truly,   can these beastly hands do ?

hephaestus feels broken over,   a rock in his throat.     ❝    you    ...    you do not   -    have to be chained.   to me.   to this   -   union.    unfit.   i am   -   i   ...    i apologise.   ❞  

[smithgod]

" what are you doing ? " - aglaea

she is  ...    radiant.

something untouched,   and gentle.   hephaestus feels   ...    not shame,   but it is near,   to think that she would step foot in the smithy,   that she should want to :   where things are full of soot,   and ashes,   and the heat can be overwhelming.   he turns away,   but never quite able to do so fully,   because as much as he would like to hide himself and this wretched unwanted body,   he still    (   so childishly   )    wants to see her.   the closest thing he has had to a -  a pleasant companion.

why is she here,   he wonders ?    to ask him what he is doing ?    but why the interest ?   perhaps it is only mild curiosity.   they are allowed that,   do they not ?    hephaestus should not get ahead of himself to think that perhaps her interest may go further.    that,   much like the time they’ve crossed paths,   he had built himself enough of a decent reputation to perhaps attract her to   ...   to him.   just him.  not the angry god,   and not the broken thing that was cast away.

❝   leaving.   ❞    he answers simply,   head bowed.    ❝   this union   ...   ❞    he refers to aphrodite,   and resolutely does not think about her wrapped in ares’ arms,   his supposedly half-brother.   it is good that he has not yet fallen for his    ...   wife.   if he does,   he wonders how much hurt will it add into the already searing pain of having been betrayed ?    ❝   ...   it will not last.   never expected it to.   ❞  

   unprompted,  always accepting.

[smithgod]

also,  hello to all new and old mutuals !  welcome 2 my angry boi,   here are some ways for a quick interaction :

currently accepting :   folklore sentence starters

last round of :   starter call

the only :  permanent plotting call ,   because i’d like to try and be better at approaching my plot-driven mutuals !

[smithgod]

somebody: likes hephaestus for all that he is, his quietness, his burliness, never minding that he’s physically a bit bigger to hug and cuddle, tells him that his freckles is fine, isnt afraid to touch him, makes him laugh, and gets to watch him trying his best to do A Lot for that person, like him making jewelries or weapons or anything that person wants me:

[smithgod]

rules updated.

# on writing divinity.

# union with aglaea.         -     including how my portrayal works with or without aglaea as his wife.

[smithgod]

Euripides, tr. by Anne Carson, Grief Lessons: Four Plays by Euripides

[smithgod]

i was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere

❝   the designer to your own ruin ...   ❞    and hephaestus cannot help from it though he knows it is not what tony desires :    but in that sullen,   tragic way,   he does remind the god of smithing tragically of his brother.   the only one,   the god of war,   ares.

for so long,   it was so simple to be blinded by hatred :    by this easy assumption that his brother must’ve had it all.    their mother’s love,   the crowd’s easy adoration,   the many battles won praising his name.   even the goddess of love had been a constant lover of the god of war,   that it must’ve felt like a mockery when the one she’d tied the knot with    -    though forcefully   -   was with   the son of hera nobody wanted.

and yet   ...     years later,    perhaps centuries,   hephaestus sees the truth.    how jagged his brother has become,   how hateful he can be sometimes of himself at the instruction of his father.   their self-loathing runs differently ,   the brother :   ares could still stand a mirror,   and puff out his chest if need be.   hephaestus runs from reflection,   and he does not groom this body for anyone but for his own self-satisfaction.   and yet ,   the self-loathing runs the same.

he sees it    -     in stark.

not due to shame ,   (   more so it is guilt for having seen it ,    for somehow not being able to stop it even for a second time    )    the god of smith turns away.    he sits there by one of stark’s many tables and inventions ,   and he looks down to the hands that were holding a plan of some sorts.   it seems moot now.   if only this mouth would work ;    if only hephaestus is much more equipped with kind things to say,   and not only the dreaded history of what his birth mother has done.   stark   ...    deserves much more.

❝   tell me     -     more.    i    ...    cannot help,    not much.   but   -   listen.  i   ...   i am able.   ❞ 

  * folklore starters    /    accepting !

[smithgod]

and i can go anywhere i want, just not home

❝   why      ...   why not ?   ❞    he is honest,   to the point.

brows crinkling ,   and hephaestus ,   for once ,   pauses on his work to look up to the boy.   he   ...    does not exactly know how this boy had managed to find him,   let alone be bold enough to wander in and made his presence more   ...   permanent these days ,    but the god of smithing does not mind the company.   he rarely ever does.   the only time he’d remembered being a little prickly was when dionysus had came in completely drunk,   pleading at hepheastus to join a feast or another to which he knows he will not enjoy.    he ended up going,   of course.   and he ended up regretting it,   as he’d expected it so.

(    how else would one feel left out if not during such an event like those ? surrounded by god-like creatures such as himself ,    hephaestus is sure that all they’d seen was fine dine and perfectly enchanting crowd ,    the smith god sees nothing but what he lacks.   what he will always lack.   a life that was supposed to be his a long time ago,    this divinity,   this spirit of immortality,   but was not allowed to ;    not when his own birth mother had cursed him the moment she discarded him.   a life full of guilt from things he cannot help with.    )

anyways    ...     it has been   ...   a while.    ever since lemnos fell to make way for the modern world ,    it is ever so rare that hephaestus had allowed guests which are not his siblings.   there had been the few wonderers,   certainly;   those who had came by after hours of having been lost,   or taken the wrong road.   they had even been a few stray friends,   who,   years later,  came back to hephaestus all crinkled and knowing.    but it is rare,   and the stories always ends up the same one way or another,   and yet   ...    hephaestus is attentive.   he gives space to the young   —    smith ?    no,   not quite.

he is a builder like hephaestus himself,  though.   a crafter.

so the god of smith had given him space and tools and a place to work.   it is not much.   not when you have the power that you do,   and the will to do it.   hephaestus looks to the boy again a bit more properly,    his curioisity is loud    (     why not home ?    what could be wrong with a home ?    )   ,   before his eyes gently swipe across the floor and he returns back to the drawing of a new design.   nothing he hadn’t seen before;   but he very much like tinkering with things.   it gives him something to do,   and if it brings life to his smithy,   all the more welcome.

❝   to live    ...    without a home.   it    -    can be    -    freeing.   as much as it is   ...    lonely.   ❞     and he would know,   wouldn’t he ?     body of an immortal god,   heart of a child who just wanted to be loved.

   * folklore starters    /    accepting !

[smithgod]

i can see you standin’ honey

the word honey catches him off guard.   how could it not ?   hephaestus may not be so    ...    well-adversed   with the advancement of humans' speech,   but he is not nearly as ignorant enough to not understand a term of endearment when it reaches his ear.   it seems silly,   for a god known from his silent anger and skills in being a craftsmen,   that he blushes easily :  freckled skin burning as he ducks his head down to gently sip at the ale that has been given to him.

they are currently   ...    having a celebration,   hephaestus believes.   the commune.

he is not quite sure what of   —    is it to celebrate the complete circle of the earth ?   or a harvest’s festival ?   or perhaps it is a celebration of a union of a couple somewhere that he is not quite aware of.   all that he’d known was that he had been invited that afternoon,  and the desire to have not let the eternal  (   druig,   his name is,   he has to remind himself,   because it is a name now.   it has become something he knows.   )   down by disappointing him with his lack of attendance is   ...    overwhelming.

hephaestus have been let down before.   it is not a pleasant feeling.

now that he is here though,   severely feeling like he is underdressed and soot probably still marring bits of his clothes though he had tried his best to find the cleanest thing he’d owned,   he is sure he sticks out like a sore thumb.   it is not   ...   helpful,   he thinks,   that this    ...    druig    ...    has come to him and point this out.   yes,   the smith god knows he is merely standing when everyone else is laughing,   cheering,  clapping along to the beating of the drum.   but to be called on it   ...   to be added that term of endearment,  more so.

hephaestus wants nothing more than to hide behind his forge,  right now.

❝   i   ...   dancing.   it is not   ...   ❞     he struggles with the words,   and he is sure he is simply getting redder.    what a catastrophe he must appear to be to the eternal :    the god who stutters.   ❝   watching.   i can do.   how   ...    how of you   -   ...  druig ?   ❞     

he   ...   does not need to add a term of endearment on his end too,  does he ?

    * folklore starters    /    accepting !

[smithgod]

starter call  ,   perhaps ?

[smithgod]

taylor swift * folklore starters

THE 1

i’m doing good, i’m on some new shit

and if you wanted me, you really should’ve showed

but we were something, don’t you think so?

and if my wishes came true, it would’ve been you

in my defence, i have none

but it would’ve been fun if you would’ve been the one

if one thing had been different, would everything be different today

CARDIGAN

when you are young they assume you know nothing

i knew you

baby kiss it better

you put me on and said i was your favourite

a friend to all is a friend to none

chase two girls, lose the one

you drew stars around my scars

but now i’m bleeding

tried to change the ending

i knew you’d haunt all of my what-ifs

cause i knew everything when i was young

and i knew you’d come back to me

THE LAST GREAT AMERICAN DYNASTY

how did a middle class divorcée do it?

there’s only so far new money goes

their parties were tasteful, if a little loud

there goes the last great american dynasty

who knows, if she never showed up what could’ve been

she had a marvellous time ruining everything

there goes the most shameless woman this town has ever seen

she stole his dog and dyed it key lime green

i had a marvellous time ruining everything

EXILE

i can see you standin’ honey

and it took you five whole minutes to pack us up and leave me with it

i think i’ve seen this film before

you’re not my homeland anymore

now i’m in exile seein’ you out

i can see you starin’ honey

like you’d get your knuckles bloody for me

those eyes add insult to injury

i’m not your problem anymore

so who am i offending now?

we always walked a very thin line

you didn’t even hear me out

i never learned to read your mind

MY TEARS RICOCHET

even on my worst day, did i deserve babe, all the hell you gave me?

i swear i loved you

i didn’t have it in myself to go with grace

and if i’m dead to you, why are you at the wake?

you know i didn’t want to have to haunt you

cause when i’d fight, you used to tell me i was brave

and i can go anywhere i want, just not home

you had to kill me, but it killed you just the same

you turned into your worst fears

MIRRORBALL

and when i break, it’s in a million pieces

hush

you’ll find me on my tallest tiptoes spinning in my highest heels

i know they said the end is near

i can change everything about me to fit in

i’m still trying everything to get you laughing at me

i’m still a believer but i don’t know why

SEVEN

please picture me in the trees

i was too scared to jump in

are there still beautiful things?

cross your heart, won’t tell no other

and thought i can’t recall your face, i still got love for you

love you to the moon and to saturn

and i’ve been meaning to tell you

i think your house is haunted

i used to scream ferociously

AUGUST

i never needed anything more

are you sure?

never have i ever before

cause it was never mine

and i can see us twisted in bedsheets

cause you were never mine

i remember thinking i had you

wanting was enough

for me, it was enough

so much for summer love, and saying “us”

cause you weren’t mine to lose

THIS IS ME TRYING

i’ve been having a hard time adjusting

i didn’t know if you’d care if i came back

i have a lot of regrets about that

and maybe i don’t quite know what to say

i just wanted you to know that this is me trying

they told me all of my cages were mental

so i got wasted like all my potential

i was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere

but i didn’t pour the whiskey

at least i’m trying

it’s hard to be anywhere these days

ILLICIT AFFAIRS

make sure nobody sees you leave

tell your friends you’re out for a run

take the road less travelled by

and that’s the thing about illicit affairs

like you don’t even exist

but they lie, and they lie, and they lie, a million little times

don’t call me kid

don’t call me baby

look at this godforsaken mess that you made me

for you, i would ruin myself

INVISIBLE STRING

i used to think i would meet somebody there

were there clues i didn’t see?

all along, there was some invisible string tying you to me

you ate at my favourite spot for dinner

something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire

one single thread of gold tied me to you

hell was the journey but it brought me heaven

MAD WOMAN

what did you think i’d say to that?

what do you sing on your drive home?

every time you call me crazy, i get more crazy

and when you say i seem angry, i get more angry

what a shame, she went mad

no one likes a mad woman

you made her like that

it’s obvious that wanting me dead has really brought you two together

cause you took everything from me

the master of spin has a couple side flings

good wives always know

EPIPHANY

just a flesh wound

___, i think he’s bleedin’ out

something med school did not cover

doc, i think she’s crashin’ out

and some things you just can’t speak about

to make some sense of what you’ve seen

BETTY

but i think it’s cause of me

it’s like i couldn’t breathe

you can’t believe a word she says

the worst thing that i ever did was what i did to you

would you have me?

would you want me?

would you tell me to go straight to hell?

i’m only seventeen, i don’t know anything

but i know i miss you

just thinking of you

i dreamt of you all summer long

the only thing i wanna do is make it up to you

PEACE

i never had the courage of my convictions

as long as danger is near

but i would die for you in secret

the devil’s in the details

but you got a friend in me

your integrity makes me seem small

and you know that i’d swing with you for the fences

and you know that i’d sit with you in the trenches

and you know that i’d give you my wild

and you know that i’d give you my child

is it enough?

all these people think love’s for show

would it be enough if i could never give you peace?

HOAX

this has broken me down

stood on the cliffside screaming “give me a reason”

your faithless love’s the only hoax i believe in

don’t want no other shade of blue but you

i am ash from your fire

you know i left a part of me back in new york

you knew the hero died, so what’s the movie for

you knew it still hurts underneath my scares

you knew you won, so what’s the point of keeping score?

darling, this was just as hard

you have beaten my heart

no other sadness in the world would do

[smithgod]

THOR​

it   seems   his   morning   of   his   home   will   never   fade   into   the   dark   abyss   of   which   it   dissipated   into   .   he   cannot   blame   anyone   for   the   curiosity   of   asgard’s   undoing   or   wanting   to   show   some   semblance   of   condolences   .   it   is   appreciated   .   not   all   gods   where   their   heart   on   their   sleeve   like   thor   does   and   in   ways   those   certainties   can   make   the   sentiment   a   little   more   awkward   than   it   should   be   .   

still   the   god   of   thunder   has   had   to   pick   up   the   pieces   of   his   own   shattered   heart   ,   after   he   let   himself   spiral   ,   to   be   the   KING   that   his   people   needed   .   wasting   five   years   of   progress   within   the   community   of   NEW   ASGARD   isn’t   what   he   had   intended   but   heartache   had   a   different   plan   for   that   mixed   so   toxically   with   the   stench   of   FAILURE   .      there   is   much   to   make   up   for   and   thor   isn’t   sure   that   he’ll   ever   truly   do   his   people   justice   .   

part   of   him   had   ALMOST   run   away   with   the   guardians   so   he   didn’t   have   to   truly   face   the   brunt   of   his   poor   leadership   .no.   he   is   no   coward   and   he   would   stay   to   face   it   all   and   turn   over   a   new   leaf   in   the   wake   of   all   the   destruction   and   grief   .   help   them   all   find   their   place   just   as   he   hopes   to   find   his   own   .   thor   appreciates   the   words   and   sentiment   offered   .   he   bows   his   own   head   in   acknowledgement   then   he   sips   on   the   glass   of   ale   in   his   head   .   

❝      thank   you   ,   my   friend   .   ❞   he   isn’t   sure   what   else   to   say   about   the   matter   at   hand   or   the   need   for   condolences   .   dwelling   on   the   past   has   proven   detrimental   for   him   .      ❝   moving   forward   is   the   only   way   to   survive   .   the   pain   was   enough   to   drown   in   ,   for   us   all   ,   but   we   are   still   here   and   that   is   what   matters   most   .      ❞

hephaestus has never mourned so much for what he lacks until that moment.

always the god smith that was driven mainly by anger :    he was the one who had dared to entrap his own mother to the throne just at the thought of having been abandoned so carelessly by her.   then,   he was the god smith who had ensure his brother and wife who were in bed together were humiliated by the contraption he made,   so sure of their infidelity,  and so angry of the arrogance that they have displayed to him.

now he had wished,   more than anything,   that he was the god of mercy.   maybe the god of kind and wise words,   instead of the grunts and short replies he is used to.   though thor is generous enough as to not point these flaws out,   hephaestus feels more bare than ever with all his faults.   he wrings his hands under the table,   and he listens.   that is all he could do   —   uselessly,   hopelessly listens.

❝   hm.   ❞     he could not imagine.

while olympus was not fully his home   —    no,   that was in lemnos,   a long time ago,   with the mortals who had equally worshipped him as much as they had been family,   teachers   —   it was still a place he had   ...   he had rested,  and worked,  and found his true strength at.   and,  more importantly,  it is where his siblings belonged in.  the only reason hephaestus had bothered returning for the most part.   to have it gone    ...     to see the sorrow in any of his sisters or ares’ faces.

hephaestus’ expression is pulled into a deep frown.    ❝     is there    ...    help.   i    -    my hands.   you know i am    -    skilled.    do you    -    require any    ...   ?   ❞     this is what hebe would have done,  right ?

[smithgod]

AGELESS ?​

                 awareness     preceded     interest ,        smug     traces     yet     kept     at     bay     at     odds     with     plain     words     to     cut       through   silence   grasping   split - seconds   of   thus   far   pleasant   afternoon .        in   contrast   to   other   periodic   visitors ,        current   one   beared   something   different :         ancient ,       nonmortal   much   like   eternal   presence .       [   &  powerful   alike ,        moving   under   threads   to   mismatch   earth’s   self   made   and   so   called   heroes   ] .        being   before   him   was   no   simple   mutant        ―        nor   result   of   human   interaction ,       born   or   made :        but   rather   godly ,        enough   to      set   motion   upon   protective   instincts      cultivated    throughout   millennia   to   run   under   druig’s   skin .

blue   to   gold ,        minds   were      subdued   and   united   under   the   weight   of   unfading   one           ―        expressionless   features   to   hold   stranger’s   presence   within   the   course   of    a   broken   moment ,        not   friendly   nor   hostile ,        but   carrying   a      subtle   warning   aback   vacant   traces  .        even   as   stance   shifted ,        reigned   by   bashfulness   or   apprehension ,        druig’s   remained   the   same :       aloofness   holding   head   up   right ,        hands   crossed   behind   his   back   whilst   standing   still   between   his   people   and   the   outside  world .

                                    ❝    a   strange   place   to   have   a   smithy …      or   to      go   for   a   walk  ,       don’t    you    think ?    ❞

the olympian smith does not flinch at the other’s words,   although he feels,   had he been any other person,   any other entity,   he might’ve had.

it isn’t that this   ...   ageless ?   @druisg​  (    what do they call him ?    hermes must know.   helios.   anyone.   hephaestus suddenly could not help from blaming himself from never asking more on what has been happening.   perhaps then,   he would be prepared.   perhaps then,   he would be able to speak more properly and know what he is dealt with.    )     is particularly fearful,   but attention is attention all the same.

and when it does not come from his siblings nor the curious   -    but usually kind   -   demi-gods who are looking for an answer to their heritage,   hephaestus wishes he could have the power of invisibility.   just so there is no reason for anyone to voice out their suspicion whenever he seeks to escape,   or point all the focus on him.    why must he be born ugly ?   he could not help the sudden thought from emerging.   why must he be so big,  and so bearded,  and freckled,  and one leg wrongly shaped ?  

maybe then,   if he’d been anybody but himself,   those eyes   ...    that voice    ...   it would not have him wish he would not use this way after all.     (     maybe the legends should take away all what is said of him :   call him the cowardly god.   call him the one who has been abandoned,   and how he has lived in the ghost of it for centuries.    )

❝   i’ve   ...   smithy   ...    plenty.   ❞      many places,   is what he meant.   he just wouldn’t think this path to the one in the forest would be occupied.    ❝    if it is   -   burdensome.   i can   ...   another path.   i shall go.   ❞

[smithgod]

DEMETER ...   THE ETERNAL,

                           reminded      of      the     asgardians     ,     demeter     sits     quietly   :     listening        to     his      words      before     thinking       about       the      similarities       that       they         possess.       the      greek       gods    ,       they’ve       always       been     here   …      the     prayers        she’s      heard         and       the    worshiping    she’s      invoked  ,      being      present       /       they       looked      at      her       as    if     to      represent        the       greek        god        demeter      ,     a       completely        different       figure      than       herself.                “      does      that     mean    ,    you      are     free      of       burden ?      ”    while      she      follows      the      words      of     arishem    ,      demeter    questioned    their    involvement    to    an    extend.        

                           scarier  ?      whiskey       hues      gaze    at    his     face       “     what   about       me   ?          am     i    scary     or    . .    ”      she    holds      the    cup     to       her    mouth    ,       taking     a    sip.       brows    raise  ,    hoping    to   hear   his   answer.     she   really     didn’t    give    off    a    terrifying    feeling.       the      complete       opposite    actually   !      maybe     a    little    obsessed      with     creating       something      new    but       that         was      it!

hephaestus is a body of shame  —   he wishes he knows more.

wishes he could answer more thoroughly on why the olympians have mostly kept themselves hidden.    would demeter,   the goddess the smith knew,   not want to speak up when there is another with the same name and similar skill to her ?   or,   like the likes of athena,   hephaestus can imagine her merely smiling a secretive smile had she known,   content and wise all at the same time.   knowing that even if they’ve spoken up on it,   nothing of the circumstances would change   ...    ?

was this why the olympians never interject ?   despite the similarity in these eternals with the people hephaestus knew ?   he could almost feel his cheeks burn under the weight of his beard   -   do they not have an eternal with hephaestus’ own name and skill,  as well ?    how curious.    though hephaestus hopes that the eternal is more equipped to walk among mortals.   less clumsy than hephaestus is,   and    ...    he hopes that eternal shall never know the burden to live with knowing the taste of abandonment.

❝   burden   ...   ?   ❞    hephaestus hums.    ❝   does conversing with zeus count as one ?   ❞  

a joke.   a terrible one.   as soon as the smith god says them aloud,   he coughs.   turning his head away from the curiosity in her eyes.   how would this eternal    ...    demeter,   her name is,   so familiar yet so different     ....    know of what zeus is like outside the whispers of his mythology ?   although,   the tales itself must speak plenty,   does it not ?   still,   to assume   ...   hephaestus is,  once again,   ashamed.

❝   no,   ❞     he answers honestly,   trying to catch her eyes,   before it slithers away.   outside of his siblings,   he is unused of any attention.    he is not flattering to look at,   hephaestus :   burly body with a freckled and hairy face.   what is there to look at ?    ❝   easy.   you are   -   easy   ...   t’ talk to.   and   -   kind.   your speech.   ❞  

[smithgod]

BROTHER,

                                 what       hasn’t       the      ruler    of    olympus      done    ?     once      again   ,     the     insatiable      war      god       was      cast      out      of      such     festivities.      a        war     won         and       yet     ,      he’s       merely        a         war      dog       . .        covered       in     blood.       the        fiercest      survived     ,       the       gruesome      acts     of    war   . .       no     other    god       wanted       him      to     sour      their       moods.      he       left      a      certain      goddess      alone      and       the    irony    ?       he    stands      before      the       very       god       that     was     betrothed      to     her     …      an     act       they      tip    toe      quietly       about.       to     have       finally    met       his       brother    ,      oh     …     the      shame      because     he       truly      did      care     for       the     seclusive       god.        he      cared      for        all      his     siblings     /       butted      heads       the       most      with      his        favored        sister.

                            “     ah   ,     what    hasn’t     he      done    . .   brother   ?       —–      he       orders       for      a       war      and      acts     as        though     he      won       the   battle.      ”      stature      towers    /      solid     …   strong     ,      his    skin      like    marbel    . .     sits       down     against      one    of       his     brothers       chairs       that        creak       under     pressure.           “      thank       you,     ”      legs   stretch   ,      the        fearsome    god     . .   digits     run    across        his      chin            “        the      spoils       of      war       . .       ”     fingers      snap     ,       he     does     not      care        for      such     sacrifices       but      objects       such       as        gold     ,     food     and       other      things      they     could    think      of      to      please      him.        he         shares      with      the      other          “     have     it      . .       i’ve    no     use      for     it     brother          —       surely,    they’ll      be   of     greater         use       to    you.    ”         he      doesn’t    think    of   it     as    charity    ,    the     god     was    well    off      . .     living     humbly.       for       ares,      he      doesn’t      visit       empty      handed.            “         once       in      a      while,     you     should   bask      in      the      sun.        you      should      visit      thrace,     i’m     sure      they’ll     be      pleased     to       see      your     work.      ”

zeus is   —    peculiar.

hephaestus does not deny that he is not envious of the strength the ruler of all olympus possesses,   more so the power he holds having done what he did when he’d banished cronus right into tartarus.   to have such strength,   and to have the conviction to lead such a long war into victory,   and to walk out from it with all the confidence a god could muster    (    and why not ?   when you have defeated a being so powerful after so long    )     ...     yes,   there is much to be envied.

and yet,  the one hephaestus takes note most is the fact that,   it is that same power from everything zeus has done,   is what,   he’s sure,   has made his birth mother,   hera,   stays.    even though the many affairs,   even though    -    what hephaestus has heard from the grapevine    -     every betrayal he has laid upon her feet.    why else would anyone would after such a horrendous treatment ?    were all gods this forgiving of such frivolous and lacklustre behaviour ?    that seems like a joke.   them,   forgiving at all.

❝   hm,   ❞     he grunts    ...    spoils of war ?     and he is slow,   hephaestus takes his time,   but he examines what has been brought.    ❝   —   i’ve no need for gold more than you do.   ❞    mortals are strange creatures that way.   hephaestus could understand the fascination behind it;   after all,   do the gods not model some of their best possessions over what mortals collect ?   shiny things and all.   and yet    ...    he sees no true value in them.   never has.   a cloth on his back,  a few food to be shared around with the villagers,   and a warm place was all he’d needed when he was in lemnos.   

unless,   of course,   the gold would bring a smile to any of his sister’s face.   or ares.

the offer to visit halts his thinking.    hephaestus pauses.   he does not address the sudden shiver of fear that runs down his back at the thought of being anywhere where he could be seen.   moreover,   to be seen next to ares.    he is fond of his brother,   true    -    but shame is a fickle thing,   the smith finds.    and what would others say should they see him,   a god crippled,  next to a perfect one ?   

❝   my leg    ...   ❞    is all hephaestus says,   his back to ares.   ❝   ...   it is grotesque.   i am not sure those of thrace would be pleased if   ...   if i am there.   ❞