Somewhere in the middle is the epiphany that happens when you're nowhere near technology. The heavens part and the gods bestow the most perfect line/scene ever imagined. You need to repeat that line to yourself over and over and over like a madman as you dash to the nearest writing implements, hoping you don't lose the inspiration.
And then you promptly forget it the minute you cross a threshold.
Jacob met a child for a whole ten minutes and then was like "damn, being a single mom who works too hard, who loves her kinds and never stops really takes it out of you doesn't it. That kids gonna be the death of me even though I've only known her for point two seconds and we have beef"
Fun fact: if you, as an adult, tell miserable children that their youth is the best that life will ever be, and that it's all just downhill from there, there's a percentage of them who will hear this and think "well, I guess I better kill myself before that happens." And a certain percentage of those will proceed to do that and succeed.
Anyway what I'm saying is that any time you feel tempted to say that, you should instead consider shutting the fuck up. Just because you peaked at 16 doesn't mean anyone else did. Most peoples' lives get better than that.
Synopsis: As lies unravel and the kingdom stands on the brink of collapse, Jacob is forced to confront not only the truth about the sea beasts, but about himself.
Word Count: 1,874
Genre/Warning: Slow burn, hurt/comfort, eventual romance, falling in love, mermaids
Author’s Note: This is only an excerpt from the full multichapter version on AO3. This series is divided into two parts. The published chapters (1-8) are reader-insert on the movie. Future chapters (part 2) will contain a post-movie storyline that focuses on the romance between reader and Jacob.
MASTERLIST
Jacob never questioned why teal made his chest ache.
Water reflecting it never frightened him. Even after taking down beasts, he finds comfort during the time of the day when the sea is in a perfect shade of teal.
Somewhere, a very long time ago, he was saved by the sea long before he learned to conquer it. And it had done so gently.
In your arms, Maisie coughed. For a moment, Jacob could only stare—at the mermaid appearing openly in the day, at the impossible color of your eyes.
You swam closer, water lapping softly against the hull. You lifted Maisie carefully, holding her up toward him.
“She’s alive,” you said, voice calm and clear above the waves.
The sound of it—human, gentle—shattered whatever disbelief Jacob had left. He reached out and took Maisie, pulling her into the boat, “Maisie—”
Maisie clutched him, coughing once more before looking back at you, eyes wide with awe, “Jacob… she saved me.”
Jacob looked up. You were still there, half-submerged beside the boat. Your eyes met and for a long heartbeat, neither of you spoke. And then their boat lurched.
Jacob’s gaze dropped instinctively. Water was pooling at their feet, seeping up through a hole in the boat. He tells Maisie to bail but the young girl had other plans. The idea came to her all at once, bright and unafraid.
“Miss mermaid,” she said. “Could you… Could you ask Red to help us?”
Jacob looked at her like she had two heads, “Maisie—”
Maisie leaned over the side of the boat, completely ignoring the man. “We need to get to Rum Pepper Island,” she told you. “There are ships there. If Red could take us… just this once.”
You did not answer at once. Your gaze moved from Maisie to Jacob, and back to the girl. “You should ask her yourself,” you said softly.
When the girl responded with curious disbelief, you nodded, “She listens better that way.”
You rested your palm against the water beside the boat. The sea answered immediately—rippling outward in slow, deliberate rings til it reached the Bluster who was looking in the distance, watching, guarding, and making sure the Purple Crustacean would not return.
“She knows your voice,” you told Maisie. “She remembers kindness. Fear makes the beasts restless. But honesty…” Your lips curved, just slightly. “That steadies them.”
Maisie proceeded to talk to the Red Bluster, using actions to convey what she wished to say, while Jacob continued to negate her, especially when the Red Bluster dove back into the water, as if swimming away. And you did too, disappearing into the depths without a word.
“Well, if she does understand ya, she don't wanna help,” Jacob said, referring to the beast. “Bright side? She didn't eat ya. The mermaid is gone too; now, get bailing.”
But before Maisie could begin bailing, the Red Bluster swam back up, carrying them on its back. The air was filled with Maisie’s joy and triumphant laughter that even you could hear from below the water.
“The world is wide, Jacob. And you don't know everything.”
Jacob, indeed, did not know everything. And there are things he couldn’t remember—memories stolen and forced to be forgotten.
Only after Maisie had successfully steered the Red Bluster towards the direction of Rum Pepper Island did you reveal yourself. You rose slowly and deliberately—enough for the sunlight to catch you.
Your tail cut through the water just beneath the surface, flashing like something the sea had always meant to keep hidden.
Jacob does not respond to Maisie’s I-told-you-so. He stood near the edge of the Bluster, eyes fixed not on the horizon—but on the water beside them.
You felt his attention like a weight, warm and unnerving. Humans often stared. Hunters always did. But this was different.
You swam closer, just enough for your shoulders to break the surface. Saltwater slid down your skin. Your hair clung darkly to your back.
“It was you,” he said quietly. You did not answer.
“The Brickleback,” he continued, eyes never leaving yours. “The day Crow almost drowned.” Jacob stepped closer to the edge, “That was you, wasn’t it?”
For a moment, you considered lying.
It would be easier—safer. Mermaids had survived for generations by being unseen and forgotten. Truth had a way of anchoring people to things they did not yet understand.
But Jacob Holland was already anchored. Not by memory—but by color.
“Yes,” you answered. The word fell gently, like a stone dropped into deep water.
Jacob’s breath stuttered. His eyes searched your face—not for confirmation, but for something else. Something familiar that refused to surface. “You have a name?”
You hesitated only a heartbeat.
“(Y/n).”
The way he repeated it—quietly, carefully—felt like a promise he did not yet understand, “(Y/n).”
“That’s a pretty name,” Maisie jumped from behind, as if stating a simple fact. Then her eyes dropped to where the water hugged your waist.
“(Y/n),” she said, testing it again. “Can you… do that thing?”
Jacob’s attention snapped to her, “Maisie.” She ignored him completely.
“You know,” Maisie gestured vaguely at her own legs, then pointed at you. “Like in the stories. Can you turn your tail into legs and walk on land?”
You studied Maisie’s face—earnest, hopeful, untainted by fear. A child of hunters, yes, but still a child. Still capable of asking without wanting to take.
“Yes,” you said simply. “I can.”
“Really? Then—then do it!” Maisie pointed down at the Bluster’s broad back and then patted the space beside her like she was inviting a friend to sit. “Come up here! Wouldn’t you get tired of swimming all the way through?”
You did not answer right away but you drifted closer to the Red Bluster’s broad fin, one hand resting lightly against its hide. Maisie watched with open wonder.
You inhaled once, deeply, and let yourself rise higher. The sea clung to you for a moment longer, reluctant. Then the change came as naturally as breathing.
Your tail dissolved into motion and light, scales smoothing, reshaping. Where your tail had been, legs emerged—bare feet touching the Bluster’s fin. Water streamed down your skin as you steadied yourself, one hand braced against the fin’s ridge.
Jacob turned away immediately. Too fast. Too obvious.
His ears burned. His jaw clenched as he stared very intently at the horizon, at the clouds, at anything that was not you. “Right,” he muttered. “Yeah. That—uh. That tracks.”
Maisie, meanwhile, beamed. “It worked!” she laughed, clapping. She looked you over with practical concern then she turned sharply on Jacob.
“Jacob,” she said, hands on her hips.
He did not turn around, “I’m not lookin’.”
“Good,” Maisie said. “Now give her your clothes.”
Jacob sputtered, “What?”
“She can’t just—” Maisie gestured vaguely at you, then down at the Bluster, then at the open sea. “She needs clothes. You have clothes. Therefore—”
Jacob finally risked a glance—just long enough to confirm what he already knew—and immediately looked away again. He yanked off his shirt in one swift motion and held it out behind him, arm extended like he was handing it to an invisible person.
“Take it,” he said gruffly.
Maisie took the shirt from him and handed it to you. “Thank you,” you said softly.
Jacob still stood with his back to you, arms crossed tight over his chest, staring stubbornly at the horizon as if it had personally wronged him.
“Jacob,” Maisie sing-songed behind him. “You can look now.”
He hesitated, “You sure?”
“Yes,” she said, rolling her eyes. “She’s dressed. Mostly.”
That mostly did him no favors. Jacob turned and promptly forgot how to breathe.
You stood on the Red Bluster’s fin, barefoot, wrapped in his shirt. It hung off you shamelessly oversized, the hem brushing mid-thigh, the sleeves spilling past your hands until only your fingertips peeked out. The collar dipped far lower on you than it ever did on him.
Your eyes met his and something in Jacob’s chest ached. Not sharply—no, this was dull and warm and spreading, like a memory pressing against the inside of his ribs, begging to be remembered.
Maisie looked between the two of you, then sighed dramatically.
“So,” she said, hands on her hips. “Are you just gonna stand there, or are you gonna help her up here?”
Jacob blinked, tearing his gaze away from you as if burned, “I—what?”
“She can’t exactly sit on a fin forever,” Maisie pointed out, gesturing emphatically. “Help her up.”
You shifted your weight, fingers curling slightly into the edge of the Bluster’s fin for balance. “I’m alright,” you said gently, though the current tugged just enough to betray the lie.
Jacob leaned down and held his hand out for you. You grabbed it, stepping on the Bluster’s side as Jacob pulled you up easily like you were just a piece of cloth.
As if sensing the moment—or perhaps simply amused—the Bluster adjusted its course. The movement was subtle, a rolling swell beneath you, but it was enough for you—who’s unaccustomed to legs—to slip.
For half a breath, the world tilted—sky and sea trading places—and then you were stumbling forward.
Jacob’s hands closed around your arms just as your balance gave out completely. The impact knocked the breath from both of you as you collided, his boots sliding slightly on the Bluster’s back before he steadied himself.
You ended up far closer than either of you had intended. His hands were warm—solid—one gripping your forearm, the other braced at your waist through the thin fabric of his shirt.
You could feel his breath hitch. He could feel the rise and fall of your chest. Saltwater dripped from your hair onto his knuckles.
Jacob realized then that he was holding you. Very aware of how he was holding you.
He cleared his throat and only once you were steady did he step back, rubbing the back of his neck like he’d just survived another hunt.
To distract himself, Jacob went on to fix their boat. However, from time to time, he finds himself sneaking glances at you. You were talking to Maisie and helping her remove the spears from the Red Bluster’s hide.
“You ever done that before?” he asked, nodding toward Maisie and the spears on the Bluster.
“I’ve helped mend worse,” you said simply. A beast returning alive after encountering the Inevitable was rare but not impossible. Other mermaids don’t even dare swim where it sails.
Jacob swallowed, “You don’t… hate them?” The question slipped out before he could stop it. Hunters. Humans. Him.
You considered him for a long moment. The wind tugged gently at the loose hem of his shirt around your thighs.
“No,” you answered at last. “I hate what fear turns people into. Not the people themselves.” That landed somewhere deep.
Jacob exhaled slowly, as if he’d been bracing for a blow that never came. He nodded once and turned back to the boat, hands tightening around a loose plank, “You’re… awfully calm for someone traveling with a hunter.”
“You’re awfully gentle for one.”
That earned a short, surprised huff of a laugh, “You haven’t seen me work.”
“Oh, I have,” you said lightly. When he looked up, confused, you added, “I’ve watched your ship before. From very far away.”
Synopsis: As lies unravel and the kingdom stands on the brink of collapse, Jacob is forced to confront not only the truth about the sea beasts, but about himself.
Word Count: 1,874
Genre/Warning: Slow burn, hurt/comfort, eventual romance, falling in love, mermaids
Author’s Note: This is only an excerpt from the full multichapter version on AO3. This series is divided into two parts. The published chapters (1-8) are reader-insert on the movie. Future chapters (part 2) will contain a post-movie storyline that focuses on the romance between reader and Jacob.
MASTERLIST
Jacob never questioned why teal made his chest ache.
Water reflecting it never frightened him. Even after taking down beasts, he finds comfort during the time of the day when the sea is in a perfect shade of teal.
Somewhere, a very long time ago, he was saved by the sea long before he learned to conquer it. And it had done so gently.
In your arms, Maisie coughed. For a moment, Jacob could only stare—at the mermaid appearing openly in the day, at the impossible color of your eyes.
You swam closer, water lapping softly against the hull. You lifted Maisie carefully, holding her up toward him.
“She’s alive,” you said, voice calm and clear above the waves.
The sound of it—human, gentle—shattered whatever disbelief Jacob had left. He reached out and took Maisie, pulling her into the boat, “Maisie—”
Maisie clutched him, coughing once more before looking back at you, eyes wide with awe, “Jacob… she saved me.”
Jacob looked up. You were still there, half-submerged beside the boat. Your eyes met and for a long heartbeat, neither of you spoke. And then their boat lurched.
Jacob’s gaze dropped instinctively. Water was pooling at their feet, seeping up through a hole in the boat. He tells Maisie to bail but the young girl had other plans. The idea came to her all at once, bright and unafraid.
“Miss mermaid,” she said. “Could you… Could you ask Red to help us?”
Jacob looked at her like she had two heads, “Maisie—”
Maisie leaned over the side of the boat, completely ignoring the man. “We need to get to Rum Pepper Island,” she told you. “There are ships there. If Red could take us… just this once.”
You did not answer at once. Your gaze moved from Maisie to Jacob, and back to the girl. “You should ask her yourself,” you said softly.
When the girl responded with curious disbelief, you nodded, “She listens better that way.”
You rested your palm against the water beside the boat. The sea answered immediately—rippling outward in slow, deliberate rings til it reached the Bluster who was looking in the distance, watching, guarding, and making sure the Purple Crustacean would not return.
“She knows your voice,” you told Maisie. “She remembers kindness. Fear makes the beasts restless. But honesty…” Your lips curved, just slightly. “That steadies them.”
Maisie proceeded to talk to the Red Bluster, using actions to convey what she wished to say, while Jacob continued to negate her, especially when the Red Bluster dove back into the water, as if swimming away. And you did too, disappearing into the depths without a word.
“Well, if she does understand ya, she don't wanna help,” Jacob said, referring to the beast. “Bright side? She didn't eat ya. The mermaid is gone too; now, get bailing.”
But before Maisie could begin bailing, the Red Bluster swam back up, carrying them on its back. The air was filled with Maisie’s joy and triumphant laughter that even you could hear from below the water.
“The world is wide, Jacob. And you don't know everything.”
Jacob, indeed, did not know everything. And there are things he couldn’t remember—memories stolen and forced to be forgotten.
Only after Maisie had successfully steered the Red Bluster towards the direction of Rum Pepper Island did you reveal yourself. You rose slowly and deliberately—enough for the sunlight to catch you.
Your tail cut through the water just beneath the surface, flashing like something the sea had always meant to keep hidden.
Jacob does not respond to Maisie’s I-told-you-so. He stood near the edge of the Bluster, eyes fixed not on the horizon—but on the water beside them.
You felt his attention like a weight, warm and unnerving. Humans often stared. Hunters always did. But this was different.
You swam closer, just enough for your shoulders to break the surface. Saltwater slid down your skin. Your hair clung darkly to your back.
“It was you,” he said quietly. You did not answer.
“The Brickleback,” he continued, eyes never leaving yours. “The day Crow almost drowned.” Jacob stepped closer to the edge, “That was you, wasn’t it?”
For a moment, you considered lying.
It would be easier—safer. Mermaids had survived for generations by being unseen and forgotten. Truth had a way of anchoring people to things they did not yet understand.
But Jacob Holland was already anchored. Not by memory—but by color.
“Yes,” you answered. The word fell gently, like a stone dropped into deep water.
Jacob’s breath stuttered. His eyes searched your face—not for confirmation, but for something else. Something familiar that refused to surface. “You have a name?”
You hesitated only a heartbeat.
“(Y/n).”
The way he repeated it—quietly, carefully—felt like a promise he did not yet understand, “(Y/n).”
“That’s a pretty name,” Maisie jumped from behind, as if stating a simple fact. Then her eyes dropped to where the water hugged your waist.
“(Y/n),” she said, testing it again. “Can you… do that thing?”
Jacob’s attention snapped to her, “Maisie.” She ignored him completely.
“You know,” Maisie gestured vaguely at her own legs, then pointed at you. “Like in the stories. Can you turn your tail into legs and walk on land?”
You studied Maisie’s face—earnest, hopeful, untainted by fear. A child of hunters, yes, but still a child. Still capable of asking without wanting to take.
“Yes,” you said simply. “I can.”
“Really? Then—then do it!” Maisie pointed down at the Bluster’s broad back and then patted the space beside her like she was inviting a friend to sit. “Come up here! Wouldn’t you get tired of swimming all the way through?”
You did not answer right away but you drifted closer to the Red Bluster’s broad fin, one hand resting lightly against its hide. Maisie watched with open wonder.
You inhaled once, deeply, and let yourself rise higher. The sea clung to you for a moment longer, reluctant. Then the change came as naturally as breathing.
Your tail dissolved into motion and light, scales smoothing, reshaping. Where your tail had been, legs emerged—bare feet touching the Bluster’s fin. Water streamed down your skin as you steadied yourself, one hand braced against the fin’s ridge.
Jacob turned away immediately. Too fast. Too obvious.
His ears burned. His jaw clenched as he stared very intently at the horizon, at the clouds, at anything that was not you. “Right,” he muttered. “Yeah. That—uh. That tracks.”
Maisie, meanwhile, beamed. “It worked!” she laughed, clapping. She looked you over with practical concern then she turned sharply on Jacob.
“Jacob,” she said, hands on her hips.
He did not turn around, “I’m not lookin’.”
“Good,” Maisie said. “Now give her your clothes.”
Jacob sputtered, “What?”
“She can’t just—” Maisie gestured vaguely at you, then down at the Bluster, then at the open sea. “She needs clothes. You have clothes. Therefore—”
Jacob finally risked a glance—just long enough to confirm what he already knew—and immediately looked away again. He yanked off his shirt in one swift motion and held it out behind him, arm extended like he was handing it to an invisible person.
“Take it,” he said gruffly.
Maisie took the shirt from him and handed it to you. “Thank you,” you said softly.
Jacob still stood with his back to you, arms crossed tight over his chest, staring stubbornly at the horizon as if it had personally wronged him.
“Jacob,” Maisie sing-songed behind him. “You can look now.”
He hesitated, “You sure?”
“Yes,” she said, rolling her eyes. “She’s dressed. Mostly.”
That mostly did him no favors. Jacob turned and promptly forgot how to breathe.
You stood on the Red Bluster’s fin, barefoot, wrapped in his shirt. It hung off you shamelessly oversized, the hem brushing mid-thigh, the sleeves spilling past your hands until only your fingertips peeked out. The collar dipped far lower on you than it ever did on him.
Your eyes met his and something in Jacob’s chest ached. Not sharply—no, this was dull and warm and spreading, like a memory pressing against the inside of his ribs, begging to be remembered.
Maisie looked between the two of you, then sighed dramatically.
“So,” she said, hands on her hips. “Are you just gonna stand there, or are you gonna help her up here?”
Jacob blinked, tearing his gaze away from you as if burned, “I—what?”
“She can’t exactly sit on a fin forever,” Maisie pointed out, gesturing emphatically. “Help her up.”
You shifted your weight, fingers curling slightly into the edge of the Bluster’s fin for balance. “I’m alright,” you said gently, though the current tugged just enough to betray the lie.
Jacob leaned down and held his hand out for you. You grabbed it, stepping on the Bluster’s side as Jacob pulled you up easily like you were just a piece of cloth.
As if sensing the moment—or perhaps simply amused—the Bluster adjusted its course. The movement was subtle, a rolling swell beneath you, but it was enough for you—who’s unaccustomed to legs—to slip.
For half a breath, the world tilted—sky and sea trading places—and then you were stumbling forward.
Jacob’s hands closed around your arms just as your balance gave out completely. The impact knocked the breath from both of you as you collided, his boots sliding slightly on the Bluster’s back before he steadied himself.
You ended up far closer than either of you had intended. His hands were warm—solid—one gripping your forearm, the other braced at your waist through the thin fabric of his shirt.
You could feel his breath hitch. He could feel the rise and fall of your chest. Saltwater dripped from your hair onto his knuckles.
Jacob realized then that he was holding you. Very aware of how he was holding you.
He cleared his throat and only once you were steady did he step back, rubbing the back of his neck like he’d just survived another hunt.
To distract himself, Jacob went on to fix their boat. However, from time to time, he finds himself sneaking glances at you. You were talking to Maisie and helping her remove the spears from the Red Bluster’s hide.
“You ever done that before?” he asked, nodding toward Maisie and the spears on the Bluster.
“I’ve helped mend worse,” you said simply. A beast returning alive after encountering the Inevitable was rare but not impossible. Other mermaids don’t even dare swim where it sails.
Jacob swallowed, “You don’t… hate them?” The question slipped out before he could stop it. Hunters. Humans. Him.
You considered him for a long moment. The wind tugged gently at the loose hem of his shirt around your thighs.
“No,” you answered at last. “I hate what fear turns people into. Not the people themselves.” That landed somewhere deep.
Jacob exhaled slowly, as if he’d been bracing for a blow that never came. He nodded once and turned back to the boat, hands tightening around a loose plank, “You’re… awfully calm for someone traveling with a hunter.”
“You’re awfully gentle for one.”
That earned a short, surprised huff of a laugh, “You haven’t seen me work.”
“Oh, I have,” you said lightly. When he looked up, confused, you added, “I’ve watched your ship before. From very far away.”
Genre/Warning: Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Slow Romance, Slow Burn, Falling In Love, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Inaccurate Ancient Greek Myth
Author's Note: This work is inspired by Poseidon and Amphitrite's story in the myth but I changed it up a lot lol. While in the myth, their relationship was portrayed as more transactional than loving; in this work, it's nothing but pure romance.
PART ONE
Valhalla had seen many grand gatherings, but few as extravagant as this. Unlike the great council held once every thousand years to decide the fate of humanity, this was a celebration—a rare moment where gods came together not for judgment, but simply for indulgence in their own divine existence.
It was a display of power, of status, of opulence. And what was a divine gathering without entertainment?
From the grand stage at the center of the hall, Hermes stepped forward with his usual effortless grace.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the divine realms,” he announced, his voice smooth and inviting. “Tonight, we are graced with a performance as timeless as the tides.” He gestured toward the far end of the hall, where the performers stood, waiting in the shadows.
“Daughters of the deep and dancers of the waves—the Nereid sisters!”
A hush fell over the hall.
A melody, soft and ethereal, rippled through the air like the first touch of waves against the shore. You stepped into the light, your movements effortless, as if the ocean itself carried you forward. The flowing silk of your garments shimmered in hues of aquamarine and pearl.
With each step, each sway, you embodied the rhythm of the sea—gentle, endless, unknowable. Your sisters moved beside you, a synchronized display of grace and harmony, their voices blending like the whispers of the current.
The serenity of the deep, the vastness of the unknown—it lived in your every movement, in the melody that left your lips like a song carried by the waves.
The vast hall shimmered with golden light, reflecting off the countless goblets of wine and adorned figures of gods seated across the chamber. Some leaned forward, intrigued. Others watched with mild amusement, as if already predicting what was to come.
But you did not see the way certain gods paused mid-drink to listen. You did not notice the fleeting moments of silence that followed in the wake of each note, nor the way some of the most hardened warriors in the room found themselves relaxed.
And most of all, you did not see the god who ruled over your home.
Seated high above the gathering, Poseidon observed in silence. He had not come for the festivities, nor for the meaningless socialization that the others so mindlessly engaged in. The only reason he tolerated his presence here was because Zeus had demanded it.
And yet, when his gaze fell upon you, something shifted. It was not intrigue, nor admiration. Not curiosity or fascination. It was something nameless.
Poseidon had never cared for the existence of the Nereids. They were nothing more than specks in the vast ocean he ruled.
And yet, he was looking at you.
You stood among your sisters, your movements flowing like the waves themselves, your voice intertwining with theirs like the steady pull of the tide.
There was a grace to you, a stillness within the storm of beauty and movement. A softness he did not associate with the sea and yet, he did not understand why he had not looked away yet.
When the final note faded into silence, it wasn’t long until the hall had transformed into a grand feast. Laughter and conversation wove through the air.
Your sisters had drifted among crowd, easily swept into the tide of admiration and praise. Gods and goddesses alike sought their company, offering them drink, laughter, and words of appreciation.
You, on the other hand, remained at the periphery. You had always preferred it this way—the quiet, the stillness.
“Amphitrite,” the voice that called your name was warm, familiar. You turned to find Apollo approaching. His ever-present aura of confidence was softened by the faint trace of gratitude in his smile.
“I’m glad you accepted my request,” he said. “Your performance was… exactly as I imagined it would be.”
You gave him a small nod, your voice gentle, “It was an honor.”
“And an honor for us to hear,” he added, his eyes sweeping over you as if memorizing something unseen.
Then, with an easy chuckle, he tilted his head. “To think—such gentleness, such serenity, comes from the ocean. One would never expect to find creatures so peaceful in waters ruled by Poseidon.”
It was a simple remark, not meant to carry weight. A passing thought from a god who did not dwell in the sea, who did not know the depths beyond the surface. You thought nothing of it. But someone else did.
Across the hall, standing near the great pillars, Poseidon had heard. And for the second time that night, he was looking at you.
You did not notice. But Hades did. He took a slow sip of his wine, his eyes gleaming with something unreadable as he followed Poseidon’s line of sight.
“Well, now,” Hades mused, voice low. “You don’t usually look at things you consider beneath you, brother.”
Poseidon did not answer. But he did not look away.
Days passed since then. Perhaps longer. Time did not matter to Poseidon. He was a being untouched by the trivialities of change, unmoved by the passage of days or the whims of others.
Yet, something was different.
It was a mere flicker at first. A passing thought. A memory that surfaced without command. He would find himself thinking of that night in Valhalla—the way you stood apart from the others.
It was not fascination. It was not longing. It was irritating.
Poseidon dismissed it at first. The thoughts meant nothing. They were as insignificant as a drop of water in his endless sea.
And yet, they returned. Again. And again. And again. Like the tide, like the waves crashing against the shore—relentless. Unyielding. Unwelcome.
Until finally, he had enough.
Seated upon his throne in the depths of his vast undersea palace, Poseidon issued a command, “Summon Amphitrite and her sisters.”
His attendants exchanged glances—brief, hesitant. It was unlike him to call upon others. One of them dared to ask, “For what purpose, my lord?”
Poseidon’s gaze sharpened, ice-blue and unforgiving. “They will perform,” he said. “For me.”
MASTERLIST
Part Two will be out soon! Comment if u wanna be tagged on the next part!
I am painfully aware that as soon as I start daydreaming about someone, I will have effectively begun to dig my own grave.
And in being a fervorous lover, I will keep digging, happily, so long as the dreams are sweet.
All the while I know that once the dreaming is over and reality sets back in, I will inevitably come to find myself alone again, kneeling between walls of my own making, with nothing but fistfuls of cold dirt to show for my foolish labor.
head/heels for karasu @zaczenemiji - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
