#If trident daddy told me to get in the water i would get in the water

[gay-furry-poseidon-lover]

coping with election stress by doing escapism and fantasizing abt Poseidon x Odysseus hate sex

[inkedtae]

wave to anchor ⇾ jhs. [M]

⌁ pairing; poseidon!hoseok x curvy!reader (f.)

⌁ genre/rating; s2l, greek god au, slow burn, infidelity, smut, 18+

⌁ summary; trapped in a loveless marriage, all you crave is a wet night full of bliss and passion.

⌁ word count; 21.1k

⌁ warnings; mentions of toxic relationship, (reader’s husband calls her a fat-fuck like the little bitch he is), silver-haired!hoseok, daddy!hoseok, hard dom!hoseok, big dicc!hoseok, brat!reader, sub!reader, jealousy, unprotected sex, rough sex, degradation, humiliation, overstimulation, double penetration (both holes), masturbation (f.), multiple orgasms, orgasm control/denial, pain kink, size kink, dirty talk, sex toys (use of vibrator and trident-ended dildo), oral (m. and f. receiving), fingering (both holes), body worshipping, clit biting, panty sniffing, squirting, spanking, face fucking, some love making, cum eating, rimming, anal play, cum play, spit play, breast play, nipple play, a tidal wave of filth :)))

❥ special thanks to miss sol ( @jamaisjoons​ ) for making this beautiful banner for me. and huge thanks to kat ( @yeoldontknow ) for titling this monster for me, sammy ( @chateautae​ ) for reading it over when i was feeling stuck, betaing for me and keeping me motivated, and eva ( @nottodayjjk​ ) for betaing yet another long ass fic in a very short time frame. ily alll soooooooo much!!

❂ To The Lighthouse

⁂ Hosted by: (yours truly) Professor Bee through @bangtansorciere​

⤐  au type: rough waters - infidelity

⤐  themes: god/goddess, slow burn

⤐  kinks: clit biting, panty sniffing, squirting, spanking, face fucking, pain kink, size kink, dirty talk, overstimulation, degradation, humiliation, masturbation, anal play, cum play, 

Hoseok flips the page of the book in his hand. To the Lighthouse; your favourite novel. He’s read it fourteen times since you’ve mentioned it a few summers ago. You were eighteen, nervous and shy. You clutched onto the book like a lifesaver, holding it to your chest whenever someone asked you about it. He smirks at how much you’ve grown, that shy smile of yours becoming a bit more confident as you replace the security books for friendship. Hoseok still reads it though. It’s the best way to silently keep a part of you close. 

You sit by one of your friends (Jimin might be his name but Hoseok never really cared enough to remember it) across the tearoom. You’re looking up at the one who works here, laughing along as another friend teases him.

“I like you better in uniform,” he smirks. 

“I’ll poison your tea, Jungkook. Don’t test me.”

“Don’t get your apron in a twist,” another chimes in. His laughter reminds Hoseok of the seals near his palace under the sea.

“Jiminie, if you’re poisoning drinks I want you to remember that I didn’t say anything. I didn’t even laugh.”

Perhaps the one that works there is Jimin. The one next to you must be Seokjin then? The one trying to remain neutral has to be Nam-something - it really didn’t matter. Hoseok isn’t here for them. His gaze settles on you again, on the way you bite your lip to keep your thoughts to yourself. You look down at your fingers, avoiding your friends’ gazes in an attempt to not laugh along. His heart flutters at the little smile that still manages to play on your lips. He would kiss the corner of it if it meant he could hear you laugh. You have the sweetest laugh - you should be told that more. 

I should be the one to tell you that.

“You let me borrow your charger too, Joon, so you’re off the hook.”

Namjoon! Yes, that was his name. 

“Does that mean I can laugh then?” Namjoon asks, already chuckling. Seokjin joins in and Jungkook throws his head back in amusement.

“I let you use my sunscreen so I can laugh too, right?” You jump in. There’s a playful glint in your eyes. Your friends laugh louder - much to Jimin’s dismay.

Hoseok finds himself joining, quietly within himself. You’re too cute for your own good. Did you know this? Have they ever told you? When you tease them, he knows they enjoy it. He can feel their delight. He hates to admit that it annoys him, no matter how platonic it all may be. It doesn’t change the fact that a larger part of him wishes you’d talk to him like that. He wants to watch you struggle to hold yourself back, letting pieces of yourself seep through as the conversation processes until you finally bless him with that laugh and those playful eyes and lean into him. 

You’re so wholesome, so warm. He adores it. 

Jimin deadpans. He casts an annoyed glance over his friends before muttering something about how they shouldn’t be served free drinks anymore. They shoot back insults freely, as though the shop isn’t filled with customers. But, unlike the rest of the store, Hoseok doesn’t mind. It makes you happy, your laughter traveling over all the noise and gracing his ears. He wants to bottle up that sound and play it over on tired days, when you’ve returned to the mainland and he can’t watch over you anymore. 

A middle aged woman huffs through her nostrils. She turns her nose up at the interaction, glaring at your friends. Hoseok rolls his eyes. This is the fourth time someone has gotten annoyed with your friends’ antics. She parts her lips to no doubt voice her frustration but Hoseok refuses to let her ruin your fun. He’d rather lose himself in the deepest trenches of the sea than disrupt the sound of your voice. 

With a flick of his fingers, Hoseok pushes the woman’s teacup to the floor. China shatters amongst a puddle of tea by her feet. She shoots up from her seat with a yelp, face flushed from embarrassment. Her gaze bounces around the shop before Jimin finally comes to her rescue. He’s gentle and kind with his service towards her and she slowly begins to revert into herself, falling silent and timid.

The guilt must be eating at her, Hoseok thinks. He sneaks you a glance, to make sure that smile on your face hasn’t completely vanished. Seokjin is already looking at him. He has a knowing look in his eye. Scanning Hoseok, Seokjin leans towards you. He whispers something. Hoseok’s blood runs cold. 

You follow your friend’s gaze. Upon meeting your eye, Hoseok can’t find the strength to breathe. He sinks into his chair, all too obviously for your friends to ignore. Jungkook smirks into his iced tea, Namjoon pokes his straw around the ice in his cup, and Seokjin is suddenly interested in the menu, despite having grown up on the island. 

You don’t seem to notice the way he sips your attention.

I’d let him ruin my throat. 

Hoseok swallows. It’s about time he hears your voice, your thoughts. He has to resist the urge to smirk at your silent confession. A few strings of similar declarations follow and it progressively becomes harder to school his features. Lips twitching into a smile, Hoseok redirects his gaze back to the book. 

“He’s been looking at you all day,” Seokjin whispers.

You pause all too long for the three of them to not share a look. He catches a hint of sadness in your voice as you remind them, “I have a boyfriend.”

Heart like an anchor, lungs like windless sails, Hoseok stiffens in his seat. The tides still. He can feel it in his suddenly all too heavy bones. The waves lap when he finally lets out a shaky breath. While sea creatures complain about the shift, worried about being shored by an aggressive wave, Hoseok attempts to control his anger. It’s just until you’re safely off the island. Then he’ll crumble this shop to the ground, pull the gardens you planted today into the ocean. When the fuck did you get a boyfriend? Why the hell didn’t he know this? How long have you been seeing someone? 

Above the questions, a little voice tells him he won’t do a thing. This island means too much to you. He rather tear himself apart first, plunge himself to Tartarus and confront the Titans all over again.

He should’ve let you see him before. His brothers got in his head about it, telling him humans aren’t worth more than a night. He shouldn’t have listened. He shouldn’t have hesitated. There’s nothing truer than you. 

You are worth every drop of the ocean. 

Evening inks the sky indigo and splatters stars. With the break of the moon, the sun sinks into the horizon. From the edge of the ferry, you watch the water crash into the shore of Hope Island, pulling what it can back into the ocean. Wind catches the skirts of your seafoam green sundress, whipping it against your legs and outlining every curve. In the midst of saltspray and fragrant hints of shrimp, you take in what little peace you can away from Andrew - wherever he’d run off to. 

The beacon atop the lighthouse flickers to life, dragging your attention away from the sea. It sits on the edge of the island, atop a high hill. Moss covered rocks circle the bottom of the hill as the sea thrashes against them, over and over again. At the base of the tall building, run a few children, parents pacing after them. Their gleeful shouts only just meet your ears over the loud engine of the ferry. A little smile tugs at the corners of your lips as the memory of a once fleeting childhood, chasing after waves and hunting tadpoles, crosses your mind. If you squint hard enough, you can almost see it in the distance. 

A pod of killer whales pull your attention astray from the shores. You’ve spotted a few in the years you’ve taken this ferry back and forth from the mainland. They have never dared appear close to land, however. At least, you’ve noticed, they never risk such a thing without the possibility of a meal. You once watched a killer whale, while lounging with your college friends in your dad’s yacht, shore itself for just a piece of seal. Worried it wouldn’t last until high tide, Namjoon had called the coast guard. Jimin practically helped him dial as Jungkook cracked open another beer with Seokjin. 

The memory makes you smile. If you shut your eyes, with the spray of the ocean and the scent of the fish, you can almost imagine yourself back there. Only a year left of your degree, summering on your childhood island with friends so stupid that there was never a dull moment. It was like it would always be like that, like they would always be there. 

Shame shatters the illusion as you remember why it hasn’t stayed that way. Since meeting your husband, you haven’t really spared your friends a second glance. To be fair, Andrew had a tendency to be charming, undenying. In the first few moments you know him, he makes you feel like the entire universe was strategically crafted for the very purpose of meeting him. That mirage soon fades though. You only wish you had noticed the holes in his personality before saying “I do,” before you abandoned your friends, your life. You tried to convince yourself that it was all mutual and natural, but everyone on that freaking island knows you stopped making time, that you were the one to pull back first. You cringe remembering how you didn’t even invite them to the wedding. 

“I told you the weather would settle once we got on the ferry.”

“Enough bragging, Farris. You made your point in the car.”

You turn to the old couple a few paces away. The old man wraps his arms around his wife, pulling her into his chest so gently, you almost feel like witnessing it is a violation of privacy. He then presses a kiss atop her head, to which she smiles, and mutters something about how he’s never right and she should just let him have this tiny victory. When she doesn’t reply, he kisses her again. 

Envy bubbles in your chest, sinking down to the pit of your stomach with a deep breath. Every time you try to look away, try to dissolve this venomous feeling, it only twists and aches your gut. Chewing on your lip, you turn the diamond ring around your finger. You just can’t help thinking, sneaking another glance at the couple, that whatever this diamond symbolizes, it isn’t love. It isn’t marriage. Maybe, months ago, it could have symbolized trust, possibly friendship. When it held promises of happiness, it could have meant something more than a ring. Now, it barely even glimmers in the light. It pinches your skin and discolours the base of your finger a pinkish-green. 

Finally pulling it off, you examine the silver band against the sea. You can see the blue currents through the diamond, disoriented as they splash into the boat. Leaning against the railing, you tease the ocean with the possibility of dropping it. It should scare you. Losing something this valuable should scare you - if it had any value at all. 

The ring slips through your fingers. As it falls, you whisper a silent prayer within yourself, so quiet anyone listening would think it was a secret kept from your soul. You pray for peace, tranquility and a moment of hope. You plead for safety, affection and a dose of something, at the very least, similar to love. And to whoever hears this, you find yourself adding, please let this relief come quick.

“Do you not hear the fucking horn? We have to go.” 

Andrew appears by your side, a tight grip seizing your arm in seconds. You yank yourself out of his hold with a pointed glare. You had every intention of heading to the car and hopping in without another word. However, as you turn away from him, the elderly couple catches your gaze. They stare with uneasy smiles and you feel your shame heat up your face. 

Andrew shifts his weight. 

“There’s no need to yell,” you hiss over your shoulder.

He slides a hand around your waist, fingers piercing into your flesh like needles. Pulling you towards him with a little grunt, he shoots the couple a tight-lipped smile then leads you to the car. “I wouldn’t need to do anything if you just did something yourself for once.”

You toss him a confused look, letting him guide you until most prying eyes have directed their attention elsewhere. Does he even know what the fuck he just said? Is he aware of how fucking stupid he sounds? He just told you that you should be the one doing things for him, serving him. You haven’t and would never do a thing for this poor excuse of a man…  not again anyways. So, you’re not really sure where this sudden declaration for you to cater to him is coming from after eight months of something remotely resembling a marriage. He should know to never ask anything from you just as you have learned to do with him. 

“Andrew, shut the fuck up,” you mutter as you get into his Tesla. 

Well, the car was supposed to be yours. Your father had bought it for you as an engagement present. You haven’t driven it yet. The passenger seat doesn’t feel any more comfortable. You don’t have the courage to tell your father. He looked so happy when you returned with a ring one evening. He even let you pick where to have dinner for an impromptu celebration. How embarrassing would it be to complain about a stupid car? You can already hear his response anyway. 

It’s barely been a year. You just have to try harder. 

Why does it always fall on you? Why can’t he try harder? 

Andrew glares at you, shutting his door. “Whatever, fat-fuck,” he replies, much to your amusement. 

God, he can’t even insult you properly. A jab at your size? Is he really that unoriginal? He can’t even come up with something a bit more creative? You can���t help the chuckle bubbling through your throat. 

He sighs defeatedly, eyes darting every which way to avoid yours. With a shift in his seat, he falls silent. Just as the coward always does when things get too hard, when he can’t exude his petty “power” over you. 

The ferry finally docks. Andrew, rather recklessly, squeezes his car around the others in a desperate push to make it out first. You stare at your lap to avoid the curses and vulgar gestures (that are well-deserved) and don’t dare to look out the window until you’re about halfway into the town. 

It looks just as it always does when you visit and that alone eases your heart enough for you to relax in your seat. The same worn out signs swing in the breeze, the broken benches and chipped mailboxes no one ever really uses when the post office stands only a few paces away remain where they always do on the edge of the sidewalk. You find renewed comfort in the tulips you helped plant the summer before your wedding. They bloom under the attentive care of the premature July showers. 

You wonder when it suddenly began raining, noticing pedestrians pushing open umbrellas or rushing into shops or their cars. Perhaps the forecasts were true in their claims of the ocean’s tantrums. The old man on the ferry did mention something about it settling, following its natural currents as it led you to safety. It seems like the moment you’ve pulled far enough from the docks, the waves resumed their roars. You might still be falling off the avalanche of annoyance from your most recent altercation with Andrew, but you swear it’s almost like the sea is calling you back. Rather ironic, you can’t help but think, you’re being summoned by the ocean when you can’t even swim.

The car pulls close to the sidewalk, engine shutting off. Andrew opens the door without a word, slamming it shut and heading into the general store. You hate the man, cringing at the memory of ever thinking that you might have actually been in love with him at one point, but you just wish he’d at least talk to you with some level of respect. You’re tethered to each other by some stupid piece of paper, so the least he can do is inform you of where he’s going. 

And if nothing else, you have a history. It’s one of horrible memories tainting whatever happiness you thought you had, but a history no less. He should respect that too, shouldn’t he? 

Why doesn’t he? You bite your lip as your mind plunges into another pool of self-doubt. You’re just not sure what it is you’ve done. It can’t be because you’ve stopped trying. He’s been a douche way before that happened. His behaviour was, in fact, the reason you pulled away too. 

You wonder if it is because of the way you look. Andrew is an idiot and hurls tired insults at you since he lacks the ability to think comprehensively for longer than two seconds. And though you are pleased with your body, you know most people aren’t. That usually wouldn’t matter to you if it didn’t also apply to your husband. You looked this way before he married you though. Sure, he didn't want to sleep with you while dating but that was because he wanted to wait. And, judging by the horrid way he fucks, you figured he must’ve been a virgin… or maybe that was just another early sign of his mistreatment you ignored. 

With a sigh, you lean your head back in your seat. Your gaze falls on a swinging sign, Fly Tea to The Moon. The little tea store stands to the left of the general store with faded gold letters that glimmer under blue and grey skies. A tidal wave of memories of late night stops with your friends on quiet summer nights return to you in a blur. The urge to take a quick peek inside nibbles at your heart. This might just be the peace you’ve been praying for. You’ve been dying for a bag of seaweed mint tea since your last visit anyways, and you’re rather curious if Jimin ever really convinced Miss Gyuhn to redecorate. This might also be a good way of getting back into your once friends’ good graces. Jimin is always the easiest to break and has quite the mouth. He never really could keep a secret.

In a couple of quick motions, you hop out of the car and jog towards the entrance, eager to escape the gradually hardening downpour. Hair damp and clothes chilled, you step in with a little smile. It looks as it always has with dark green painted pine tables, dressed with doilies and tablecloths, peppering the mosaic floors. Black chairs accent every table, looking refreshed with a new coat of paint. In fact, most of the store looks that way - the once chipped walls now repaired and pictures finally centred with frames. 

Jimin leans over the counter, counting tips in his usual pout. He has a new apron, you notice, a deep blue speckled with loose leaves around his chest. You can’t help your smile as you approach him. 

“Welcome to- Oh my god, (Y/N)!” He laughs, straightening his posture. He looks between you and the door, stammering before finally asking, “How the- What- When the hell did you get in?”

It seems like he’s forgotten your silence. Or maybe he’s just not as affected by it as you thought he’d be? You don’t dwell on it too long, recomposing yourself quickly. “Like five minutes ago?” you reply, voice jokingly unsure and brows half-heartedly furrowed. “Took the last broadening ferry for the night and I had to come here for some tea.”

Jimin playfully glares at you. Whipping the towel once draped over his shoulder against the counter, he jokes, “And here I was thinking you came here to see me,” he gently swats at you with one end of the towel, “You couldn’t at least pretend?”

“You know I adore you, Jimin.”

“Would it kill you to say it?” 

His smile widens upon your hearty laughter, a pleased gleam in his eyes. Looking at him, you can almost cry, the emotion caught in your throat. You swallow it down, catching a twinkle of concern on his face. You’ve stopped laughing, you realized. Catching your reflection in the polished oven behind him, you almost cringe at the grimaced smile on your face. If it had just met your eyes, you probably could’ve gotten away with it.

“Is everyth-”

“Hey, do you still have seaweed mint?” Eager to disarm the shock on his face, you add, “I’ve been dying for it forever.”

Maybe it’s the desperation leaking into your voice, or perhaps even the constant shift of your eyes, but Jimin doesn’t move to question you again. He simply offers a comforting smile and nods. “I’ll get you a fresh bag from the back,” he says, voice so soft the temptation to cry scratching at your throat. He backpedals a few steps from the counter and holds your gaze as if you’d disappear when he turns his back then he rushes into the stock room. 

Guilt swirls like a typhoon in the pit of your stomach. You shouldn’t have cut him off. You should’ve waited for him to finish asking then pretended that everything was okay. He would ask again and you would insist that you’re fine. Now you seem rude and ungrateful, turning away a long time friend on the off chance that he’d see through you and your marriage.

“How did you manage that?” A delicate voice asks, lulling you out of your thoughts. 

You blink, glancing to your right to find a silver haired man browsing the pastries on display. His beauty forces a double take. Cheekbones high, jawline sharp and shoulders broad, lean and like they were made to carry the force of the tides. His name flows into your stream of consciousness so seamlessly, you’d think it lives there. 

Jung Hoseok. 

The name was haphazardly scribbled into the first page of To The Lighthouse. He left it behind last year when you first spotted him. Once in a muscle tee and shorts, now in a sweater and some jeans, you think he can’t be more than a couple of years older than you, in his mid-twenties maybe? Not a wrinkle in sight, or exhaustion darkening under his eyes, he doesn’t look to have aged. 

He chews on his lip as he eyes a slice of cheesecake. “I’ve been pestering him for seaweed mint for weeks,” he said against the glass, somewhat fogging it up. 

Standing to his full height, he finally turns to you and your voice cinches at the base of your larynx. He’s a whole head taller than you, even in the four inches your wedges have added. You find yourself almost having to crane your neck back to properly meet his gaze, and what a fucking gaze it was. His eyes are a honey-hazel, the kind of light brown you’d always thought the seafloor would have, and they twinkle. 

His face suddenly flashes from your memories, erupting your heart with delight. That summer becomes clearer as you remember the day Seokjin pointed him out to you, whispering about how he has been conveniently around all day. 

The moment you looked over, you regretted it. Your heart somehow twisted beneath your ribcage, struggling to breathe. It yearned for him, pounding aggressively into your ribcage. Your blood rushed so fast, so loud it echoed in your ears. Mesmerized, you found your thoughts spiraling into a pit of filth, imagining his cock so deep in your throat, it might as well replace your need for oxygen. His face shined, shimmered like the tides under rays of sunlight and his lips curved into a little smirk. He gave you a knowing look, like he just caught a glimpse of the position you’ve envisioned. 

You chance a glance at his lips now, mentally cursing yourself for making such a stupid mistake again. They’re perfectly shaped, plump enough that you’d be able to feel every curve no matter where he kissed you. 

“You walk in and suddenly he has a fresh bag in the back,” he laughs as he continues his thoughts. “So what do you have on him?”

You wonder if he remembers you? He must remember your relationship with Jimin by his questioning at the very least. His causal approach to it is… refreshing. It’s why you’re confused when the joke flusters you. Cheeks hot and lips parted with no voice to reply, you let out a nervous chuckle and shoot one of your shoulders up in a half shrug. Shit, shit, shit. Could you have been any more awkward and pathetic? He said a couple of sentences… about tea. It’s not as if he complimented you. (A fact that makes your heart twinge with pain). He showed you an ounce of interest and suddenly you’re unable to string together a couple of words? 

Clearing your throat, you summon your cowardly voice. Perhaps poking some fun at yourself might help ease whatever tension constricts your heart at the sight of him. “I’m not sure what the hell that was,” you joke with a more composed chuckle.

He laughs along. The sound is as calming as the crash of the tides against the shore, the rippling effects settling into your bones with a few shivers. It’s lively and genuine and for a moment you forget there’s a void in your chest. His laughter soothes it over and that alone relaxes whatever tension captivated your nerves. 

“What I meant to say is that Jimin doesn’t need much convincing.”

“Not from you,” he corrects. Stepping closer, he lowers his head and whispers, “Think you can sneak me one?” 

You find yourself leaning in at the mere rasp of his voice. God, why does he have to sound so sexy? His lively voice drips with forbidden secrecy with every word. If you found an empty bottle in the ocean, you assume when you open it, his voice will pour out and grace you with sweet seascapes. 

“And risk my connection?” You playfully tease in the same hushed tone, “I rather not take that chance.”

His eyes glisten with mischief. With a lick of his lips, that tongue now imprinted in your mind as you imagine how warm it would feel against the curve of your breasts, he says, “Fair enough. I wouldn’t either.” 

Why would Jimin need convincing anyway? You’re sure seaweed mint is a year round tea. It’s been a staple since the fourth grand opening. (Miss Gyuhn kept confusing her dates.) Scanning the tea selection for the first time since walking in, you notice that seaweed mint is in fact not on display. You read through again, thinking you must have missed it when Hoseok interjects. 

“It’s been discontinued for the last six months or so,” he explains. 

You don’t remember expressing your confusion. Did your face expose your secrets? Does he catch on to more than your confusion, to your excitement every time another image of his mouth on yours floods your mind? You’ve always been an open book to your friends; you just never thought you’d be just as easy to read to a stranger. 

Sadness tips your thoughts to the realization that, despite knowing his name, Hoseok might forever remain a stranger. Maybe that’s always how it was meant to be. He left so fast last summer and might just do the same now. 

Being around him, you can somewhat regain that feeling of humanity. It’s as though you are not an abomination, locked away and kept secret. Andrew despises referring to you as anything but an inconvenience. Your eyes water with the realization that this stranger has treated you with more respect in this short conversation than Andrew has even in your best of times. 

You mutter a thanks and turn away from him to blink away whatever tears your thoughts have summoned. He stands back to his full height. You can feel his eyes on you, but refuse to meet them. You know he’d ask you if you’re okay. You’ll try to reply but end up crying. You can feel it. The lump in your throat is already forming. God, what would it take to be rid of this feeling? 

Jimin finally exits the stockroom with a smile. It wavers when he catches your gaze. 

Before he can question you though, Hoseok greets him with a smile so charming, you would have asked for a second bag had it not been for the impending urge to cry out all your frustrations. 

“Jimin, was it?”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “I already told you, dude. We don’t have any seaweed mint,” he says as he hands you the tea bag. Seaweed Mint is neatly printed on the label Jimin doesn’t bother hiding. 

You curl your lips to hold back your laughter at the glare Hoseok shoots Jimin. 

“I understand,” he sighs before looking at you. His eyes soften. That kind smile only just sits on his lips. “I’d keep something that precious safe too.”

A rush of blood flushes your cheeks as you tighten your grip on the bag. The comment is obviously in reference to the tea, but the look in his eyes (that secret sparkle like a sunset dancing on the surface of the ocean), that look leads you on. It's so simple too, easily crafted and just as easily spoken. Yet, it ruins you, crumbling every doubting thought in your mind about how you might have lost value in yourself since your husband can’t even stand to be near you anymore. Not that you need his approval. You just knew it couldn’t have been your fault, knew that Andrew is just a dumb fuck. 

Before either you or Jimin can reply, the bell chimes with a new visitor, the opened door bringing the rhythm of the rain into the store. Andrew marches in, dripping wet, with a scowl. He scans the shop, glare hardening when he spots you by the counter. 

“I told you to stay in the car,” he whispers when he reaches you. 

Despite his quiet voice, you can feel eyes on you, ears tuned into your conversation. Even still, you mutter, “No, you didn’t.”

“Just get in the fucking car,” he sighs, exhaustion draining his face. 

You shift your weight. Sneaking a glance behind you, you find Jimin carefully watching your interaction. Hoseok, previously so invested in conversing with you, tightens his jaws, stares at his shoes and chews on the inside of his cheeks. 

Resisting the urge to cry out of sheer embarrassment, your voice shakes as you say, “I have to pay.”

“It’s on the house,” Jimin says and you don’t need to look back to know he’s smiling a little too hard to seem natural. “Think of it as a homecoming gift.” 

You mutter a quiet thank you, knowing fighting it will only start a well intended argument with him and a tantrum from Andrew. Before following behind Andrew however, you sneak one last glance at Hoseok and study every one of his features again. It’s not enough to memorize every detail but you know you’ll never forget those eyes.

When you finally get into the car, Andrew launches into a scolding about “learning to stay put for once.” Your mind is elsewhere, completely abandoning the notion of going in and out of the conversation. He’s not worth a reply, or even another thought.

No, it’s Hoseok. Hoseok and his soothing stare. Hoseok and his sunshine smile. It’s Hoseok and his tanned skin, sun praised and cloud adored. It’s the way he made you feel like you’ve known him all your life, like you’ve made a new friend. The soft rhythm of his voice is as soothing as rainfall and you smile at the thought of falling asleep to it. His beauty sears your bones, warms your heart and cradles your soul. 

You wake at dusk to roaring waves. The setting sun only just pours into the room from the window. The seabreeze follows. You can taste the salt on the tip of your tongue. Or maybe that’s just the residue of your tears. Your face feels puffy, eyes sore, and stomach turns when you recall the source of this lingering, though numb, pain. 

Rolling from your stomach to your back, you stare up at the seashell ceiling lamp. The argument returns to you in hot flashes of simmering anger. Discomfort sits upon your chest. It squishes the pumping blood out of your heart and splatters it against your ribcage.

All you wanted to know was what he was hiding in that paper bag. When he returned from the general store a couple of days ago, he had rushed into his room. You didn’t think anything of it until he began locking it. You discovered it this morning when you heard a chime on the other side of the door. Shimmying the doorknob, you were surprised to find it locked. Andrew always left his door open in the hopes that you’d magically become the housewife he thought he could make and clean his room for him. It chimed another two times and you tried the knob again. 

“Why are you always up my fucking ass?” He yelled when you questioned him. 

“No one gives two shits about your ass, Andrew.”

He was fed up with your tone, attempting to tower over you in the kitchen. You remained expressionless as you held his gaze. He puffed out his chest. You rolled your eyes, muttering an annoyed curse under your breath. When his attempt at intimidation failed, he huffed and turned away. 

“I should’ve never married you,” he dryly laughed. 

You stood straighter. “Why the fuck did you? Why did you put us through all this if you didn’t fucking want it?”

“I wanted it, you bitch! I just didn’t want you.”

“Fuck you, An-drew!” Your voice broke. 

He smirked. “It’s no wonder your father wanted to get rid of you.”

The sinking feeling you felt that moment returns to you now. You sit up in your bed, acid scratching at your throat. Tears prick your eyes as you hold a hand to the base of it. You’re still not entirely sure what he meant by that. You’ve held your phone and stared at your father’s number for hours, debating on whether or not to question him about it. A part of you was relieved when the damn thing died. You don’t want to know what it means. You don’t want to talk to anyone. 

The betrayal still sits on your heart. Your lungs are heavy with disbelief. 

Wiping your tears, you decide you’ve had enough. Despite having slept most of the day, you're tired of thinking. You take a few deep breaths to collect yourself then push your covers off. Something heavy thuds and jangles as it falls from the comforter and onto the mattress beside you. You eye the silver jewelry box with furrowed brows. It’s no longer than the length of your hand. Glancing at the door, you’re surprised to find it closed. Is this Andrew’s doing? He hasn’t gotten you a thing since that ring you’ve given to the ocean. Did he talk to your father? Is this a tactic to try and wiggle himself back into your good graces? 

You shouldn’t open it. You shouldn’t give him the time of day. But the chances of this being from Andrew are slim, even if he had talked to your father. Something within your bones scratches at the palm of your hands. It tells you that it’s worth opening. 

You give into it. Grabbing the box, you unclasp the lid. A silver dildo sits in a dark blue, velvet interior. It’s pearled, trident ended and oh so heavy. You examine it in your hand, getting used to its weight. The orange sunlight bounced off it and you’re surprised to find yourself practically salivating when you lick your lips. 

Andrew would never have given you something so generous. The one time you slept with him on your wedding night should have been enough proof of just how selfish he is. He was clammy, huffing and absolutely despised when you made a sound. You just laid there, silent, and prayed he’d finally finish. Your prayers were shortly answered. 

No, this is from someone else. But, who the hell could have come into your home? 

You put the dildo back into the silver box. Your legs press together when you shut the lid, relieving tension between them that you didn’t realize was growing. Placing the box on your night table, you hop out of bed and tiptoe towards the door. Opening it a bit, you peek through to find the hallway empty. You slowly make your way down the hall and try the door to Andrew’s room. 

Locked. 

Letting out a sigh of relief, you drop your quiet efforts and walk to the living room. It looks the same, untouched from disuse. You reside in your room for the most part and Andrew does the same, when he’s not frolocking around the island. You’re not even sure where the hell he goes. What business does he have on Hope Island? He didn’t even know this place existed before your last summer in college. He thought you were referencing a video game when you mentioned it to him. Come to think of it, how the hell does he know his way around here? He didn’t use a navigation system to find this little bungalow on the edge of the shore. You don’t remember him asking anyone for directions. Of course, his mysterious stop at the general store might have been an opportunity, but that would require him to think rationally for more than two seconds and you just don’t think he possesses the ability to do that. 

You check the foyer, the bathroom and finally the kitchen. It all remains the same. The front and back doors are both locked. All the windows are shut. Well, expect the one in your room. You freeze for a moment, holding the kettle under running water. Why is the window in your room open? Did you open it? You try to think back to this morning before Andrew’s big mouth had ruined everything. All you can see are fragments of the argument in your mind. 

With a sigh, you get the kettle going, craving a cup of seaweed mint tea to soothe the ache in your heart. You’ll just deal with the box later. The house seems empty for now and if someone really wanted to harm you, they wouldn’t leave gifts behind. 

Pushing all thoughts of this horrible day aside, you prepare your tea cup. You grab a mug and the bag of tea from the cupboard. You’re a bit confused when you don’t see your steeper in there. You scour the drawers for it after not finding it in the sink or dishwasher either. Your baby blue bullet vibrator rolls out as you open the last drawer. The memory of you tossing it in there after hearing Andrew come down the hall this morning returns to you. 

You snatch it out, a smile playing on your lips. Nothing like a good orgasm to forget the dumpster fire that your life has turned out to be. It’s about the length of your longest finger but has never let you down. You bought it the first summer of college on impulse and have since thanked that impulse every day. Wetting the toy in your mouth, you decide to spend the rest of the night on the couch with your feet propped up on the coffee table and legs spread wide enough to make them shake. And since you were going to save the night for cumming, there was no harm in using this time to tease yourself. At least, just until the water finishes boiling. 

You take the bullet out of your mouth and replace it with the hem of your oversized t-shirt. With a little spread of your legs, you pull the edge of your panties aside and glide the cool, wet tip of the bullet between your folds. They’re sticky with the start of your desire, growing wetter with every brush of the toy against your clit. A quiet moan escapes you. Clicking the toy on the lowest setting, you bite back a delighted squeal at the buzz. You swallow thickly, breath already jarred, and cover yourself up again, ensuring your panties hold the vibrator in place. 

A hand hovers around your lips as you bring your legs together. The gesture seems to intensify the vibrations against your folds, erupting your clit with bliss. You shiver in your place, eyes fluttering shut. Your hips begin to rock and you find yourself stumbling back into the counter on the tip of your toes. 

As the buzzing persists, a charming smile flashes before your eyes. It glows like the sea on a sunny day. Those hazel eyes over take your mind, suddenly peeking up from between your legs. The mental image makes you squirm in place. Fuck, you just know his tongue would be so fucking warm. You know he’d take his time with you too. You remember the look on his face when he talked to you. You saw the sincerity in them, the secret devotion that swam within every other glance. You heard the care in his voice, the rasp of truth in every word. 

His name soon sits at the tip of your tongue, ready to be moaned. With a clench of your jaw, you swallow it back. Saying it would be cheating, right? Saying it would make it too real, right? Saying it would feel so good - you know that’s right. 

You want him. You wish it was real. You wish he was here. You wish he was the one you shared a house, a room, a life with. Name trailing the tip of your teeth, you tighten your grip on the edge of the counter behind you and pray over and over again for- 

“Ho-Hoseok,”

The vibrator dies. 

Your eyes shoot open. A frustrated groan tears through your throat as you dig your hand between your legs and pull the vibrator out. Fingers slick with your arousal, you rapidly click at the button, huffing when it won’t respond. Tossing the stupid thing onto the counter, you cross your arms over your chest. You just wanted one fucking moment of peace, of something close to happiness. All you asked for was an honest to God orgasm that makes it so hard to breathe, you’ll need a fucking oxygen tank. 

“The water is done.”

You jump back with a scream, snapping your attention up to the owner of the voice. Hoseok stands, or rather leans, against the island counter. You heave in place as the shriek of the kettle finally helps you process his words. Switching the stove off, you remove the kettle from the hot plate and put it on a cooler one. 

As you look back at him, a little smirk playing on his lips, you wonder how long he’s been standing there. How the fuck did he even get in? You glance at the front door, then the back. Both remain locked and you don’t remember hearing them open. Then again, you didn’t hear the kettle and it was wailing right beside you. 

Shifting your weight, you tug the hem of your shirt down. The bullet rolls behind you to your left. You side step in front of it, hoping to shield it from Hoseok’s cocky stare.

He smiles. 

You bite your lip. 

“Busy night?”

Is that a joke? Heat rushes to your cheeks. You suddenly can’t meet his eyes. Your heart pounds as your mind fumbles for an explanation. That is, until you realize you should not be giving one. This is your house. You reserve the right to do whatever the fuck you want, within legal limitations, without having to justify it to any one else. He should be the one shaken, nervous and struggling to string a decent sentence together. 

“What are you doing here?”

“You called me.”

“My phone’s dead.”

“You prayed.”

I should have cum instead, you can’t help thinking. 

“I could help with that,” he smiles. 

You freeze. You didn’t say that out loud, did you? Wait… how did he know you prayed? How the fuck did he hear you? You move to take a step back to be reminded that you’re already pressed up against the counter.

Hoseok stands to his full height. He must’ve taken note of your attempt to retreat, that smile wavering. His once cocky features are replaced with concern. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Maybe I should’ve explained first.”

“An explanation would be nice.” 

He parts his lips only to bite them. His eyes shift between you to the hall, as if he’s second guessing his visit. Scratching the back of his neck, he sighs and finally says, “You prayed to me.”

“That’s not an explanation.”

He tries again. “I’ve been keeping an eye on you for a while. I was waiting for your call.”

You don’t remember praying to him, but rather for him. Either way, both instances embarrass you. If he’s telling the truth, then that means he can read your mind? Could he have not just heard what you thought, but seen it too? The raise of his brow is enough confirmation. 

“How long-”

“Last summer.”

“At the tea shop?”

He nods. 

Your face flushes as you recall all the dirty thoughts you had while staring right at him. He heard everything - he’d seen everything… for a fucking while now according to him. Why the fuck didn’t he say anything? 

Hoseok lets out a dry chuckle, looking to the side with a shake of his head. “You had a boyfriend. Then, a husband.”

“Andrew is not a husband.” 

“I don’t care what the fuck he is,” Hoseok shrugs, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He circles around the counter, making his way towards you. You surprise yourself when you find that you don’t move. He stops about an arm’s length away and adds, “And neither do you.”

You play with the hem of your t-shirt. His words lap around your mind, reeling you in and out of his stare like a wave against the shore. This whole time, he’s been right in front of you. He sat across the room at one point, reading your favourite book and watching over you. Maybe he wasn’t just a stranger, but you just knew that he has treated you better than that little fucker ever did. You knew he cared for you. You knew there had to be something more. 

Had this been anyone else, watching you and waiting for you, you probably would have been worried. But, he’s different. He doesn't make you feel like every word is a bullet or every breath is an excuse to fight. 

Hoseok reaches a hand out, wiping a stray tear away with his thumb. “I hate it when you think about him,” he whispers. 

“I hate it too.”

“I know.”

Right. He can read your mind. You want to tell yourself to be careful but what’s the use? He’s already seen it all. 

“Who are you?”

He hesitates. It’s an unfamiliar sight on someone so sure of himself. He couldn’t seriously believe that he could just say he heard you pray, heard your thoughts, and kept an eye on you and not have you question his being, could he? 

“Are you sure you want to know?” 

“Of course.”

You should have thought it through, you tell yourself seconds after blurting out your assurance. If he is reluctant about revealing himself to you, then you should’ve taken that seriously. There could be a reason. 

But what other reason could be great enough to keep you away from him, a little voice asks. If you had wanted him gone, you would have said so. You would have run out of the house yourself and to the neighbours and begged for help. You don’t want him anywhere else but right here, within your reach and watching. Your heart flutters at the idea of him always watching. 

Hoseok rolls his shoulders back, as if talking himself up to telling you. He tugs at the collar of his shirt before pulling it over his head. Your attention lingers on the crevices of his toned stomach and broad chest. You knew he was big but shirtless he looks like he’s ninety-five percent muscle. 

A loud roar echoes from the sea. His eyes flash a crashing blue. Cascading cyan scales surface on his biceps, forearms, and peek from around his waist - likely on his back too. The edges blend right into his tanned skin. The ones one his neck are a glimmering seafoam green. Little blue gills sit in the hollows of his cheeks. As the ocean settles, Hoseok stands straighter and holds his head higher. 

Is he a nymph? A spirit of the sea? A mermaid? He said he heard you praying. Could he be an angel? 

He smiles, glittering canines on display. “Did you enjoy my gift?”

Trident-ended, the silver dildo returns to you. Your eyes widen at the realization. “P-Poseidon?” 

The sea loudly laps in quick ripples. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think it was laughing. 

You take a step towards him, holding a hand out to his face. He lets you graze his gills with the tips of your fingers. They vibrate under your touch. 

No… this can’t be. These are just myths, Disney movies at best. The look on Hoseok’s face smugly tells you otherwise. He raises a brow at you, as if asking if you’re seriously doubting his existence when he is standing right before you, half fish and all. 

“I’m not half fish,” he corrects while trying to hide a smile. 

You mirror his expression. “You have gills.”

“How else do you expect me to breathe underwater?” 

“You’re a God. You don’t need to breathe.”

Hoseok chuckles with a shake of his head. The sweet sound provokes your own laughter. He pauses for a second, watching you closely with a peculiar look in his eye. His smile widens at the sound and for a second you think that gleam swimming in his gaze is admiration. 

“Would that be so hard to believe?”

Yes. 

Hoseok’s face falls. Crap. Did he hear that? 

He reaches behind you. The baby blue bullet glistens with your arousal between his fingers. It looks measly in his large hands. You imagine them around your neck, on your ass, gripping onto your thighs. Your eyes widen when he brings it to his nose. With a sharp inhale, his right eye twitches. Then, he puts it in his mouth. He sucks on your taste like a lollipop. You catch his tongue swirling around it from the gap near the corner of his lips. It’s wet with his saliva when he pulls it out. 

“I fucking knew it,” he whispers. “You taste delicious.” 

He hisses the last word like a sacred calling.

Your breath hitches. Lips parted, you gape up at him, blinking and dazed. Did he just…? He’s been thinking about you like that? Fuck, you wish you could hear this thoughts too. You wish you could be sure that this isn’t a dream, or game, or some sort of sick joke. Though your mind loops every terrible possibility, your heart raptures at the reality. It pounds in your ears, reminding you that you’re still breathing despite having your breath taken away and begs you to give in. 

“Do you want me to go?”

“Stay.” 

The word rushes out before you can even process it. Your body sways into him, leaning against his chest. Fuck, he even feels big. 

He can’t go, your heart thuds. Whether a joke or not, he’s here and he smelled you, tasted you. It’s clear he wants you - for the evening, for a few hours, it doesn’t really matter. What more can become of this? You’re married. You’re married and you’re horny and he’s standing right there, with his arm snaking around your waist, pulling you closer against him. The bulge in his jeans pokes at your stomach, twisting it with desire. From the clothed impression of it alone, you’re sure his cock can reach lengths others only dream for.  

Hoseok tosses the bullet aside and curls a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. The gesture reminds you of how messy you probably look. Hair disheveled and face tired from sleeping all day, you probably don’t look as fuckable as you might have liked to. 

“If you say one more negative thing about yourself,” Hoseok hisses, pressing his forehead against yours and pulling you out of your thoughts, “I will fuck you into this ground so hard, the entire kitchen will be rearranged. Do I make myself clear?”

Holding back a whimper, you meekly nod. You know he just threatened you, but some good sex is hardly something you’d want to miss out on. It’s been years since you’ve been properly filled and you’ll be damned if you don’t get him inside you. 

His voice suddenly drops an octave as he practically growls in a rough rasp, “And for fuck’s sake, make a fucking sound.”

You swallow thickly, about to moan your understanding when you become so painfully aware of how empty your throat is and how hard you’ve been pressing your legs together. You’ve been squirming in place, the little bouts of pleasure not doing very much as you’ve barely even noticed them. How long have you even been doing this? Did he notice? 

The little smirk that graces his features is enough of an answer.

You want him. You want him now. You want him so deep down your throat, you don’t want to have to swallow when he cums. You want to be on your knees, staring up at his naked frame. 

He grips onto your ass, further pressing your body against his. “Tell me what you want,” he whispers. 

If he can read your mind, why is it so important for you to say it? 

Hoseok slides a hand under your shirt and up your torso, gently thumbing your nipple in the process. He wraps his fingers around your throat. He applies gentle pressure, enough to make you pout (which happens to be a sight that lights up his eyes), and says, “Because you sound so sexy when you’re desperate.”

“I’m not desperate,” you lie. He had already seen you whine at your missed orgasm, already read every little dirty thought that has crossed your mind, and you both know so fucking well how badly you’ve been needing to be touched. Still, your pride shouts against his words like you have a shred of dignity left. 

He tightens his hold on your neck, cutting off your next intake of air. “What the fuck did I just tell you? Didn’t I say not to speak negatively of yourself?”

“Technically,” you find yourself rasping, “I didn’t really say it. I thought it.”

Using his thumb, he tilts your head up so that your lips are inches apart from his. Though anger sinks in his eyes, an amused smirk floats on his lips. He kisses your chin, grazes his teeth against the soft skin then gently licks it, as if tending to a wound. Your nerves burn where his lips were, summoning goosebumps all over despite the warmth he radiates against you. 

“A technicality? You think you can wiggle your cute ass out of this on a fucking technicality?” He questions, looking all too smug for someone who technically just lost an argument. Your thoughts seem to only make his grin wider. “Then, maybe I won’t fuck you just yet.”

You fall still, hands once resting on his chest now clutch onto his shoulders. The sheer thought of not getting fucked in any hole now makes your heart sink to the mangled pit of your stomach. You know the easiest way to fix this would be to attempt that you are wrong and in fact did say something negative about yourself.

But the look in his eyes when you talked back is addicting. His pupils dilated, that blue turning indigo against black. And the strength of his hand alone, squeezing around your neck as a poor excuse of a warning. Your arousal drenches your panties so much so that being in them is proving to be comfortable. They stuck to your folds when his smirk widened. Maybe he was right. Maybe you are desperate. But, you’ll be damned if you tell him that. 

“You just did,” he smiles. The tips of his canines brush his plush bottom lip. 

“I thought we agreed that thoughts don’t count.”

“You thought?” He smirks.

You can’t help but roll your eyes at him. The gesture seems to bring him closer as he hugs your body against his with his free hand. His gaze flickers down to your shirt and he bites his lip. It’s been awkwardly bunched up against him but he didn’t really seem to mind until it obstructed his view of your cleavage. Instead of telling you to take it off, however, Hoseok removes his hand from your neck and tugs at the collar of the shirt. It rips to your stomach. Your gasp cinches in your throat when he takes half a step back and tugs at it again. 

He glares at you while pulling the ruined shirt off. “If you hold back another scream, I swear I’ll-”

“Fuck me into the ground?”

His hand tangles in your hair and, with a harsh pull, he forces you to the ground. You fall on your knees with a yelp that sounded all too pleased for your pride to bear. Your gaze falls on his crotch, lips between your teeth at the sight of his clothed erection. Bulging against his thigh, you reach out to touch him, to feel him throb in your hand. Hoseok yanks your head back by the hard grip of your scalp. Your mouth falls open and a cry pours out before you can catch it. 

As he messes with his zipper, he asks, “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to like that?” He shoves your open mouth against his jeans, letting your tongue press against his erection, despite having his pants already unzipped and ready to be pulled down.

You lick at it freely as you stare up at him. Lips wrapping around its curves, you half-heartedly suck. He already feels so big and you’ve got much less than half of him against your tongue.

His words die in his mouth, hips swaying forward. He mutters a curse under his breath before letting out a little chuckle. That grip on your hair suddenly eases up, and he pets you. He pushes your hair back and out of your face by petting you. “Is this how you always get away with things?”

Only with the soft ones.

He sets his jaw as that harsh grip on your head resurfaces. The amused glint within the fire of his eyes is enough to let you know that he heard you and he likes it. Pulling your head back, he shoves his pants off with his free hand. 

You should have taken his threat to fucking ruin you more seriously. One look at his cock and your pussy clenches in exhilarated fear. Simply stating that he is fucking huge would be an understatement. His cock is bigger than your fucking head, and thicker than the length of his thumb. He’s most definitely not going to fit in your mouth, let alone your pussy - a fact which makes you want to test out that theory all the more.  

His erection smacks your chin, smearing it with precum. You don’t waste time and stick out your tongue for a taste. Just like saltwater, you’re pleased to find. 

He must’ve liked the sight of you getting slapped by his cock as he holds the base of it and slaps it on your cheeks. The wet splat makes you quietly moan to yourself, the light impressions of pain force your legs together. Your panties smush your arousal against your inner thighs. 

“Open your mouth, princess,” he orders in a growl. The pet name still manages to come off endearing and, dare you think, even gentle. 

Your tongue sticks out the moment you open your mouth, making Hoseok, despite his anger, smile. He smacks his cock on your tongue and softly grumbles a string of moans. You fist your hands on your knees, eager for a proper taste of him. 

He rests his cock on your tongue then purses his lips. A wad of spit falls on your cheek. You whine, mostly at the fact that it hadn’t landed in your mouth, but Hoseok doesn’t really seem to care. He spits again, and again, and again. Some fall on your forehead or cheeks but most land in your mouth and over his cock. For the God of the Sea, he sure has trouble controlling his own saliva. 

“You’ve always got something to say, don’t you?”

You wrap your lips around his tip as a reply and swallow the spit he managed to get in your mouth. You can taste the remnants of yourself. They mix deliciously with his precum and your mind suddenly becomes flooded with thoughts of just how well you’d taste together. Another rush of arousal soaks right through your panties. 

Hoseok holds your hair in a makeshift ponytail, steadily lowering your mouth around him. There’s a sparking in his gaze at how easily you let him guide you, or you assume as much. And if the little smile on his parted lips is not enough to confirm it, he practically moans, “For a mortal, you can’t stay out of my head either.”

Something about living in his mind swells your heart with pride. You shift closer to him, knees against his feet, and stare up despite how the gesture jabbed his tip at the back of your throat. The burning urge to gag stings your eyes with tears, flushes your face and soon, as his heavy cock rests longer down your throat, your jaw begins to ache. It provokes an unparalleled soothing exhilaration that shoots your hands to his thighs. Suddenly, you’re not so focused on his gaze anymore, but his voice. Particularly, the sound of his raw, raspy moans that seem so natural, you’d think this is a daily occurrence. If you weren’t so dick deprived for so long, you might actually believe it too. 

The effects of lacking cock especially arise when you forget how to control your gag reflex. You are able to hold back any sort of sound until he’s halfway in your mouth, tip just breaching the opening of your throat. Your tongue shoots up with a cough and shoulders shake. He tries to pull you back by the grip on your hair, but his words have made you ambitious. Or, perhaps, you’re just eager to prove yourself. 

There just has to be a reason why he would want you. Why would he watch you for so long without a single word exchanged if not to simply think about you in this very position. Had the circumstances been different, this fact would have hurt you. However, you’re married and in no way interested in pursuing him out of this moment (or so you keep telling yourself), just as he is with you. The pressure to show him a good time weighs heavy on your shoulders. 

So no, you will not retreat until he has lodged himself down the length of your throat and had to convince himself not to nut at the overwhelming squeeze of your swallow. 

“You’re insane,” he says through a moan. 

You ignore the itch to gag as you take in another inch or so into your mouth. Through blurred vision, you glare up at him. You’re sucking his dick if that’s the last thing you do. 

Hoseok tugs harshly on your hair. You jerk back with a whine. Though his cock is out of your mouth, a string of saliva connects your lips to his tip. You pout at the sight, wishing it was his cum instead. He uses his grip to tilt your head up at him and glares, “Stop that.”

“You’re the one that put me on my knees.”

“You know what I mean.”

Of course you do. It’s hard not to when he, himself, is so easy to read. One wrong word, one right look can set him off so easily. If the narrowing of his eyes and furrow of his brows are not enough then the flare of his nostrils or tightening of his jaw will confess his emotions. He’s repeated himself quite a number of times too. It’s just so much fun watching him fumble for control. You forgot how amusing it is to play, to tease, to be at the complete mercy of someone else just to watch how the power gleams in their eyes. 

Mentally discarding his previous requests to stop being so hard on yourself, you give him your most innocent eyes and shrug. 

“I don’t need to read your mind to know you’re lying.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“That’s exactly my point, princess.”

His words a few minutes ago return to you; You’ve always got something to say, don’t you? And by not having anything to say at all, you must be lying. You hate how well he knows you, hate that he can read through you because he’s been watching - not simply because he’s a god. It coils your blood while igniting your nerves and your heart raptures. You’re not sure which instinct to follow, especially when your pussy continuously clenches and reminds you of its emptiness. 

One thing you are sure of is how badly you want him to call you by that name again. You want him in your mouth, using your throat like a toy and telling you just how much he adores you. If he doesn’t hear it in your mind, he sees it in your eyes. The desperation to be ruined has not tried to be concealed since he caught you touching yourself. 

“Won’t you just please fuck my face?” 

Your words surprise you just as much as him. You were thinking it - you didn’t necessarily mean to say it. Whether or not he can tell, he hesitates. You test his patience, pressing your wet lips against his thick tip again. You rub it against them like a tube of lipstick as he stares down at you. He tries hard to hide his smile but you just know he’s thoroughly amused and captivated. Why won’t he give you what you want then? Doesn’t he want it too?

“Open up, princess,” he finally gives in, gently tilting your head back. 

You moan in delight the moment your lips part. He can’t help but chuckle. It flares a frenzy of nerves to your clit, making it throb. Flattening your tongue, you try your best to relax your throat. 

Hoseok cups your face with his free hand. Its stark gentleness against the harsh grip of your hair is strangely exciting. “Take a deep breath,” he guides before slowly moving back into your mouth. 

His soft start is rather appreciated, though you do find it slightly patronizing. You don’t need to be taught how to suck cock like some virgin. You’ve done a great job in the past without his help and you’re sure you can do it again. You’re just out of practise, that’s all. It’s humiliating, embarrassing and frustrating. You feel so small but so renewed in his hands. All seems right in the world when Hoseok stands over you and talks down to you and tells you what to do in a voice so soft, it’s boarding the line of mockery. 

“Stop bitching,” he grunts with a smile. 

You’re about to glare up at him when he begins to push between the walls of your throat. You stiffen. Hoseok drops the hand on your cheek to the nape of your neck, gently rubbing his thumb just under your ear. The gesture relaxes you enough to drop your frozen posture. He moves in further and further until his balls, oh so heavy and wet with your saliva from your previous attempt to suck him off, rest on your chin. 

You stare up at him. He looks down at you. Holding himself still, his brows furrow and he bites his lip. He looks so pretty when he’s trying hard not to unravel before your eyes, which very soon become blurry with tears. Perhaps you should change that. Taking a breath through your nose, you shake your head a bit. He grumbles a moan with his lips still between his teeth. 

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, princess.”

It seems as though that’s exactly what he did, though. He prepared you for his cock, guided you oh so kindly, and made a show about giving into your request only to hold himself still in your mouth. If you wanted to warm his cock, you would have asked for it. No, you wanted your throat to be fucking used like his personal hole. You don’t want to be able to string together sentences without losing your voice halfway through from how hard he fuck-

Hoseok pulls himself out and right back in with a quick snap of his hips. Cock heavy and thick, he pushes through the constricted walls of your throat over and over again. His balls smack against your face, the final indication of his wrath. And you can’t do much about it, if you’d even wanted to. He holds your hair with both hands now. His grip is so tight, you feel your face being stretched back. Slobbering, gagging, voice raw and burning, you let him move your head in sync with his hips like the waves of the ocean. 

“Is this what princess wanted so badly?” He coos, voice drenched with mockery. 

He tilts your head back to rest a good bit of his cock on your tongue. Dripping spit and tears over your thighs, you feel filthy. It’s warm and slimly and you can’t, for the fucking life of you, stop thinking about how fucking good it would feel on your pussy. 

And his fucking cock. You’re reminded of just how huge he is every time he pushes himself back in. Your chin is sore with the smack of his balls but that pain sears a certain kind of pleasure only he has ever cultivated within your bones. You adore the way it bruises your face, aches your muscles and makes your jaw slack with fatigue. 

Hoseok splats his spit webbed cock against your tongue again as you heave for air. You’ve blinked enough tears away to watch him watch you again. Pupils lust blown, he massages the part of your scalp that he’s been tugging on. He parts his lips like he’s about to say something sincere, but then holds his words with a bite. 

You thought he’d shove his cock back in your mouth - give princess what she wanted - but he doesn’t. He wraps a hand around your neck and pulls you back up to your feet instead. A whine, raspy and broken from his recent rub against your vocal chords, escapes you. 

His nose brushes yours and whispers, “Shh, no princess. None of that.” When you pout, sliding your hands up and down his chest, he adds, “No, baby, you’ve waited too long.” Then, he cups your pussy with his free hand. You gasp a pathetically high-pitched moan. He breathes a chuckle when he feels your sopping panties stickily clinging to your pussy. “Look at you, princess. You’re a fucking wreck and I haven’t touched you yet.”

He sounds too cocky for your liking. And seeing as he won’t even let you finish sucking him off, you aren’t in your best mood to play. If he was going to make this night about you, then he should let you call the shots, let you be the one in charge- 

The tightening grip against your neck cuts your thoughts as short as your breath. Hoseok glares. “Gods, you always fucking do this. You almost got away with all this fucking shit again, hmm? You think just because you’re cute, I’ll let your disrespect go?”

What the fuck is he on about? You weren’t even trying to act cute. All you wanted was to be on your knees for him. Why is that concept so hard to grasp?

You’re asking the wrong questions. By the way Hoseok pushes you to walk backwards by the squeezing grip on your throat, you’ve come to the conclusion that you’ve been asking the wrong questions and should probably refrain from doing so again… at least while he’s choking you. 

He chokes you harder. 

“You’ve been whiney, bratty, acting like a spoiled little bitch. And I let it all go because you’re needy and desperate and haven’t been able to stop thinking about how much you want me inside you. It’s so fucking adorable how your eyes get so round whenever you do that too.” He rambles as he guides you backwards towards your room. “But, if you think, for one fucking second, that you’ll be getting away with running your fucking mouth like that, you’re fucking wrong.”

The instinct to tell him that you haven’t even said anything dies the moment you recall every disobedient thought you’ve had while on your knees alone. You soften your eyes at him when he opens your door. He remains unfazed. 

“I’m sorry-” 

“Don’t be sorry,” he quickly interjects, voice suddenly soft. “Just be a good girl. Can you do that for me, princess?”

How the fuck can you say no to that? At a loss for words, you simply nod. 

Hoseok tsks. “What did I say before?”

“That if I say something negative about myself-”

“No, no, not that, baby,” he laughs a bit, coaxing a little giggle out of you too. The sound seems to soften his eyes. “The other thing.”

You think for a moment, knowing he made quite a few orders but none you took seriously enough to remember. 

“I want to hear you,” he whispers. You’re suddenly aware of just how close his lips are to yours. You can feel his hot breath against them and lick your lips. Your tongue catches a bit of his too. “Be as loud as you want.”

“Are you sure?” You find yourself asking. 

Hoseok kisses your chin. “Yes,” he breathes before grazing his teeth over the bruised skin. 

The confirmation summons tears. You’re not sure why and you don’t want to find out. Swallowing thickly, which proved to be hard with his hand around your throat, you push away every last negative thought about yourself and your life, and just ground yourself into whatever moment Hoseok is creating for you right now. It doesn’t matter how long he’s staying or why he wants you. He’s here and more committed than you’ve let yourself believe you deserve. You should hold onto that. You do hold onto that. 

He sits you down on your unmade bed and lets go of your neck. Then he just stands in front of you. Eyes heavy with… concentration… intrigue… You pause, finally recognizing the look as admiration. It makes you shrink into yourself and you begin to wonder if this really is just a night to him, if you really are just some other mortal girl he’s interested in simply bedding. You’ve heard about the greek gods' tendency to be infatuated by humans for a short burst of time only to move on to the next. Though it would admittedly hurt, you wouldn’t be surprised if that’s all this was. 

The look in his eyes says otherwise though. The slight gap of his lips, the relaxed posture it all makes you feel like this should be happening more. That thought doesn’t terrify you. It doesn’t even fill you with guilt. In fact, it excites you. You want him here - you’ve never made that a secret. You just didn’t think you’d want him out of the context of tonight. 

Hoseok bends down, placing both his hands on either side of your thighs and he leans over you. Lids only just shut, he looks as though he’s about ready to kiss you. You wonder if his lips will still taste like you, the image of him sucking your vibrator returning to you with a flush. 

“I know I’ve been rough with you.”

I love it.

He smirks. “But I need you to promise to tell me when it’s too much.”

It won’t be.

Hooking his finger under your chin, he forces you to meet his gaze. Concern swims with sincerity as he searches your eyes for hints of deception. “Any time you feel like it’s going too far, princess, I need you to tell me. If you can’t say it, then just snap your fingers.”

“Hoseok, I won’t-”

“I want to fuck you senseless,” he says. His voice is so raw with emotion it makes you shiver. 

Why the fuck didn’t he just say so? 

“Which hol-”

“Both.”

He can be as rough as he wants then. About to bite your lip to hold back your laughter, you recall his very honest declaration to make sure you are aware that it is in fact okay to be as loud as you’d like to. And he laughs along with you, rather enthralled by your excitement. 

He points his chin to the head of the bed, silently urging you to sit back against it. You turn around and crawl over there. A hand lightly smacks each cheek, to which you let out playful whines, and when you turn around, you find Hoseok staring at your hips. Dazed, a little smile hovers over his lips. 

“Hoseok-”

“Turn over.”

There is no room for hesitance or questions. His growl, his harsh tone sends shivers and awakens goosebumps all over. He doesn’t have that usual annoyance of intriguing in his gaze but something deprived. He looks famished, face sunken with starvation. His nostrils flare and jaw sets, eyes dark and captivating. Words fail you and you cannot summon the courage to speak back. Instead, you swallow thickly and do as you’re told. 

You turn onto your hands and knees. Leaning on your elbows, you tell yourself that the arch of your back is just second nature. The spread of your legs is something you know you should be ashamed of but cannot be bothered to. 

A harsh smack lands on one cheek, the other feeling the sting seconds later. Two, three, four five burning spanks and you reach a hand back to salvage a chance to catch your breath. Your hand barely covers any surface area, perhaps just a single cheek. He still grants you but a measly moment to embrace the pain before shifting your hand from your cheek to your tailbone. He holds it steady in place by the wrist and continues where he left off. When your other hand falls back for another break, he easily grabs hold of it, without looking his grip on your first hand, and keeps you still. 

You fall forward with the next smack. Your pleased pain gets muffled into the mattress. You can’t even breathe well, if at all, but you can’t ignore the yearning for another one and another one and another one. Your back somewhat aches from how you’ve so deeply arched it. You’ve been lifting your ass up for more. His hand is just so large, smacking each cheek in its entirety. Though the sting brings tears to your eyes, you really hope his handprint lasts till the morning. 

After a couple more spanks, your voice breaking within whimpers and pitiful yelps, he releases your hands and rubs over your seering skin. “You’re fucking dripping,” he sighs, caught between mesmerization and exhaustion. 

You lift yourself back on your hands, face finally out of the bed, and look back at him. He’s already staring at you. A sinister smirk graces his lips at the sight of your tears. 

Grabbing handfuls of your ass to massage the pain away, he asks, “Was Daddy too harsh?” 

He’s mocking you. You both know this. You both know it swamps your chest with humiliation. And yet, you push your ass back into his hands, moaning so fucking loud, you’d think he’s already fucking you. 

His tip pokes your panty-clad pussy, squishing as it meets the sopping fabric. He’s painfully erect. You can feel the throbs well just from his tip, wondering why he wouldn’t just let you suck him off properly. You bite your lip as the fear of being terrible at it makes itself known. Of course, it’s because you didn’t do a good job. Why else would- 

“Daddy?” You question in a voice so meek, you wouldn’t have guessed it belonged to you. 

Hoseok tightens his grip on your ass, imprinting his fingers into the fat of your flesh. He doesn’t look pleased, glaring at you from his place. “...need to be inside you,” he says through gritted teeth. 

You can’t help the wiggle of your ass. “So why aren’t you?”

He laughs. His whole body shakes as he laughs uproariously. Hooking his thumb under the hem of your panties and pulling your cheeks apart, he examines your asshole. “Baby, you probably can’t even handle my pinky yet.”

You want to ask him what the fuck he’s going to do about that when he spits against your hole. Gasping, you try your best not to fall back on your elbows. No, you want to see, to watch him as he plays with you. 

He looks so good back there. Naked, cock inches from where you need him, face gleaming in the evening glow and attention absorbed by your body, he looks like he was made to stand back there and ensure you get your daily dose of dick. He dips his head down and kisses each cheek before finally pressing his lips to your pulsing hole. 

You lift your ass up. Hoseok groans, pushing your cheeks against his face. His tongue circles around your hole, teasing the possibility of entering but never actually doing it. He comes up for air after a particularly wet kiss. 

“Fuck, your pussy smells so fucking good.” 

You flush as if he didn’t just shove his face between your cheeks. That’s about all you could do before he rubs his face against your clothed pussy. He inhales your scent, shaking his nose between your folds to get a good whiff. A squeal echoes in the room when he catches your pussy in his mouth. Your jaw drops at the feeling of his wet tongue against your panties, just over your clenching hole. You thought he was just going to tease you with little kisses and licks, maybe even nibbles. Instead, he begins to suction his lips around your folds and slurp the arousal you accumulated out of your panties. 

Losing the strength to hold yourself up, you fall on the side of your face back into the mattress. You rock your hips against his face, slow but needy. Your eyes flutter shut, a hand reaching back to hold his head in place. When your fingers tangle in his hair, he sucks harder. You shudder against him. 

Then he pulls away. You prop yourself up on your elbow and look back to find him pulling your panties off with his teeth. Eyes widening, you lift your legs to help him out. He holds your gaze as he puts the wettest part back in his mouth. Crawling over your bent over frame, he sucks the flimsy fabric. 

His cheeks are glistening with you. He glances down at your lips and nods his head, as if silently ordering you to open your mouth. You comply. He leans in like he’s searching for a kiss and shoves the panties in your mouth with his tongue. 

“Have a little taste, princess,” he encourages with a peck on your forehead. “Don’t let it discourage you. Scream all you want.”

You bite down on the ruined blue fabric harshly. A handful of thoughts collide in your head as he retreats to his place between your legs. Mind glitching between them, you can’t make out a coherent sentence. All you know is that there isn’t a rupture within your chest anymore. It’s been filled with something so pure, naming it would only discredit the strength of its work.  

Amongst the mental madness, a quiet voice managed to break through. I want to be yours. 

Hoseok conceals his face from your view. He avoids your eyes, suddenly so concerned with the mess you’ve been making on the bed. After a quick examination of it, he lies on his back and sneaks his shoulders between your legs. You immediately sit up, hovering your pussy over his lips. Your arousal strings a drop just above his chin. He caresses your thighs with a smile. 

“Take a seat, princess.”

You pull your panties out of your mouth. “You’ll suffocate.”

“I’m a God. I don’t need to breathe.” 

Perhaps you shouldn’t have dropped yourself on him. Hoseok just makes it hard to think first then act. You can’t control yourself around him. Every movement just bursts out of you, every word falls from your lips and all your thoughts are paralyzed under his influence. When your mind finally catches up, you’ve already done something else you didn’t think so well through. 

You don’t want him to breathe anyways. Pulling at his hair, you want him to drown in your pussy, realizing how fucking wrong you are when he starts to lick and slurp you up immedately. He plants his hands on either ass cheek, fingers sinking into your skin, and helps you rut yourself against him. At first, he was trying to hold you in place but he should know better than think you’d keep still. 

He tongues your entrance. You buck your hips in his face. He grunts from the sudden impact. 

“S-sorry, Daddy,” you weakly moan. 

He harshly smacks your ass, consequently causing you to rut your hips into his face again. A deep groan resonates against your core. It almost makes you want to apologize again, just to get another slap or hear him grunt incoherently to himself from how good you taste. 

It’s been too long since you last had anyone between your legs, but this might be the first time you sat on someone’s face. You didn’t know cutting off a man’s breath is really the best way to get eaten out. From now on, you decide, if he is not gasping for air, you are not giving it to him properly. 

Hoseok shakes his head. His tongue and lips brush between your folds and flick at your clit quickly. It twists the tightening knot of your orgasm but you fight the urge to further sink yourself down on him as you wonder if maybe you’ve suffocated him too long. You’re about to lift your hips when he forces you down with the strength from his forearms. You stare down at them in awe, unable to be quiet even while mildly confused. 

Veins lace his arms as he holds you rigid over his face. He shoves his tongue into you. Prodding and swirling, he tries to push through your clenching walls before jabbing his tongue in over and over again. The tip of his nose presses against your clit, the curves of his lips sit beneath your wet folds and his fucking gills start to vibrate against your inner thighs. 

“What a good little whore,” he coos, voice slightly muffled. 

It takes you a good second or two to realize that he’s speaking through his gills. You’re wet enough, that he can use your arousal to speak to you through his fucking gills. Locked under his grip, all you can do is tug harder at his hair and scream the title he already knew you adored. 

You are a fucking whore. You’re his fucking whore. And you know that he is yours. What kind of man would long for you the way he does? Would watch out for you and picture you naked almost always? He can pretend that he has only been around because he cares but you both know that he is a fucking whore for you too. The first thing he did when you questioned his identity was taking his shirt off. What normal man would do that? 

He’s your whore, your slut, your fucking cumdump, laying- suffocating under you. He acts composed and collected, but you can just feel by the way his tongue moves inside you, that he would do anything to make sure you’re satisfied far before he is. If you had the strength to utter anything beyond pathetically desperate gasps of air, you would tell him just that. 

His teeth graze your clit before he bites down on it. Your eyes widen with a loud scream of his name. Had it not been for his hold on your thighs, you would have jolted off his face. “Hoseok, what the fu-uck!”

He rubs the bite away with his tongue flat as he nods his head. Over and over again against your clit, he sets the pace of the gyrating you would be doing if he wasn’t holding you down so hard against him. He moves fast and precise, his nose hitting what his tongue is missing when it retreats to attack your clit again. 

“Daddy! Daddy, p-please, please,” you begin to beg, though you know your orgasm might just unravel on it’s own. “Daddy!”

“Fucking cum without permission and I’ll ruin you!”

“But-”

“You think I’m a fucking whore, you filthy little slut? You’re the one that undressed me with your eyes every time you saw me. If I didn’t take that shirt off myself, you would have done it.”

“Not true!” you shout, voice quivering. Your body begins to shake too. Toes curling and eyes screwed shut, you can feel yourself getting so fucking close. “Pleas-”

He presses his nose against your clit so hard that you’re worried you might break it, and shoves his tongue back in and out of you. “Don’t you fucking dar-”

You cum. It rushes out of you before you can even catch it. Your eyes roll back, head following then hands and soon you’re leaning your entire torso back, hands planted into the bed on either side of his hips. Quaking all over, you can’t hold yourself up for too long but Hoseok cannot seem to care less. You came without permission - without a proper warning - in the middle of one of his threats. Though the fear settling into your exhausted bones should scare you, it only adds to your high. 

Head feeling light, your vision blurs. You’re still cumming; he’s still drinking you up, and you think he might even be babbling with cum. The blood is rushing so fast to your head, however, that all you can hear is the hurried flow and fast thumping of your heart. 

The entirety of your body feels weak. You want to sit up again and pull his arms off you, tell him that his tongue is just too fucking much. You want to tell him that you came and you’re sorry but it’s over now and you can deal with the consequences later. You know he can hear your thoughts and is well aware of this. 

He does not care. He growls and groans through his gills about how you need to be trained or taught or something along those lines. Your senses are still disoriented so you can’t be completely sure. One thing you are certain of is that if he continues to play with you like this, you might just cum all over again. 

“I fucking dare you!” His voice finally cuts through. 

It takes you a second to realize you’ve been screaming so loud, you’ve lost the majority of your voice to raspy, gasping breaths. You push yourself back to your previous position, clawing at his forearms. 

“You made your fucking point!”

He bites down on your clit again. 

You grip onto his arm and cry out, “Daddy!” 

He pleasantly hums against your folds. “What will you do if you need to cum?”

The overstimulation burns your nerves. Your body just doesn’t know what to do with itself anymore. You need a fucking breath, mind still foggy and voice almost completely gone. 

“A-ask!”

Hoseok swiftly flips you over, flopping your body recklessly on the mattress. Standing on his knees between your legs, he finally removes himself from your pussy. The relief from the ongoing pleasure is all you need to suck in a deep breath and try to calm your racing heart. That is until you see his face. Smeared with your cum, his nose, lips and chin glisten in the moonlight. Those magical scales shimmer under your filth. That’s arousing all in itself but it’s that sight of his gills, webbed and stringed with your wetness that forces your knees together. 

You don’t want to think anymore. Too much time has been wasted on thinking, why, how and what might come next. You have a god standing over you, face coated with layers of your pleasure and you’ve been lost in your head for too fucking long. Standing on your knees, you press yourself against him with an urgency you haven’t felt in years. Arms thrown around his neck, bodies smushed against each other, you press your lips against his. 

There is a rush in the initial touch. A rush that reminds you of forceful currents colliding against the shore. It shocks you, makes you shiver all over and then leaves you craving another splash. His hands hug your waist but trail down to your ass where they seem to love to linger. If he comes back, you’re sure that’s the first place he’ll hold again.

When you let his tongue push through your lips, let it play with yours, you’re overwhelmed by the raw impression of your arousal laced in his mouth. You soon become too accustomed to the taste that it barely makes an impression on your tongue. And you just can’t have that. 

Pulling away, you trail your lips along his cheek, licking yourself off his skin. Your tongue glides over his gills, teasingly slow. The tip ticks every soft edge, curling a bit to ensure you pull your every drop of your cum out. They quiver against your warmth. He tightens his grip on your ass. The gesture numbly aches the bruises from his previous hold, making you moan against his gills. 

His voice breaks through a moan. His cock throbs against your stomach. You press your lips against the gills upon realizing their sensitivity and suck at them. Hoseok trembles against your body. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think no one has ever played with his gills before.

“Get back on your knees,” he weakly orders.

You press another kiss upon his gills. “But this is so much fun.”

He rubs your ass down to your thighs and somewhat sways against you. The simplicity of the gesture stutters your heart. He feels like someone who can soothe you with the right touch, the right word. He feels like a husband, you regret noticing. 

His hands traill up your back, run through your hair, and guide your head back. You know he heard your thoughts. But, when you meet his gaze, you don’t find the pity you thought would be there. Instead, he regards you with that same glint of admiration. It’s almost like you feel like a wife. 

He blinks, too rapidly for you to ignore. His gaze redirects to your night table. Whatever vulnerability floated in his eyes is washed over by lust. He smiles when he looks back at you and repeats, “I promise you’ll have more fun on your knees.”

You don’t need much convincing. From the moment he arrived, he did seem to have a plan. It’s clear he’s thought long and hard about this… probably about you too. 

Turning around, you get back down to your hands. Hoseok reaches over you, his tip prodding at your entrance. He quietly chuckles in your ear when he feels you clench. “On your elbows, baby,” he whispers, taking both your hands and helping you fold onto your arms. He places a little kiss behind your ear, causing you to arch your back, then reaches for the silver jewelry box he gifted you. 

You stiffen. The toy is half his size, but still big. You wonder where he’s thinking of putting it. You’re hardly stretched out enough for either hole to accommodate something so heavy. 

“We don’t have to use it.”

“We better use it.”

You’re not sure where this sudden burst of confidence came from but you’re tired of questioning yourself. Yes, he better fucking use that dildo, or you’ll reach back and do it. Either way, you’re going to be filled and fucked until you can’t remember your name. 

Hoseok smiles at your eagerness. Still leaning over you, he opens the box and pulls the toy out. He pushes the bulbed tip along the curve of your lips, silently asking you to open your mouth. When you comply, he slowly slides it in your mouth. Considering the toy is not as giant as his cock, you’re able to take it in its entirety without much resistance from your throat or your gag reflex. 

He kisses your forehead, muttering, “Good girl,” before pulling it out. 

You’re not sure if it was the kiss or his words or simply the toy that was once in your throat, but tears pool in your eyes. “Thank you, Daddy,” you whisper, voice vulnerable against the lump sitting in your chest.

He gives you another then sits back. Your mind is soon consumed with the feeling of the toy gliding between your folds. Despite being in your mouth, it is cold. It shoots a shiver of nerves down your back and makes you squirm. 

Hoseok pulls one of your cheeks apart and spits on your tightest hole. “Stay still, princess,” he casually orders before circling his index finger around the rim of your asshole. 

You grow impatient as you catch onto his intentions. Wiggling your hips, you whine into your fisted hands. He huffs a sigh behind you and you’re sure this blatant act of disobedience will earn you another few spankings. Instead, he drops the toy and shoves a finger into your pussy. It’s just a finger, but holy fuck does it reach far. Your jaw drops, voice a meek little thing, a notch above a squealing whisper. 

“Can you hold your ass open for me, baby?”

Reaching back, you press your cheek into the bed and do as you're told. Hoseok relocates his free hand to your thigh before burying his face in your ass again. His tongue swirls around your hole before pushing through. He’s met with a bit of resistance, all of which you do not fully register as he adds another finger into your pussy. He scissors them, opening up your walls before starting his quick thrusts. 

He shakes his head, slobbering a lot more saliva than you thought a man could hold. It trails down to your pussy, warm and slippery and you just want it all over you. Pulling away, he spits one last time then slowly pushes a finger into you. The contrast of the harsh pace in your pussy to the softer insertion into your asshole, makes your toes curl. 

After a moment, Hoseok begins to move the finger in your ass too. The time away from being played with like this slowly disperses as the resistance dissolves. He takes this as a sign to add another finger. He stills the hand in your pussy to scissor his fingers against the walls of your asshole. 

“You’ve already let someone fuck your ass, you fucking slut?” He growls, jealousy dripping in his tone. “Bet they couldn’t stretch you this much, could they?” he asks, adding another finger. 

You shudder through a moan, drooling into the mattress. No, whoever you had let fuck your ass, barely even stretched you the width of his two fingers, let alone three. You can’t even remember his name or his face and you don’t want to. He’s nothing compared to Hoseok. No one will ever compare to Hoseok. 

A whine immediately follows the removal of his finger from your sopping pussy. Clenching emptily, you know he’s going to return but that doesn’t stop you from restoring to begging. His fingers are filling enough, he should just let you cum or, at the very least, finally shove himself in and fuck you already. 

“Please, please,” you whine, pushing your ass back on him. He smacks your pussy, pushing you back in place. You try again, this time shaking your hips. He quietly groans to himself but spanks you again before rubbing the wet, sensitive area.

You cannot hold yourself back much longer. His hands being right where you need them but not enough at all bends your mind to its breaking point. Babbling with tear stained cheeks, you somewhat sob your pleads. “Please, Hoseok! Pleas- Fu-uck!” 

He pushes the dildo into your pussy, the first round pearl stretching you too fucking well to think straight. Your eyes roll back, the left one twitching from the delicious burn pushing your pussy open for more. You whimper, hands falling from your asscheeks and gripping onto the mattress instead. The action smushes your ass against his fingers in your hole. 

“What a desperate little slut,” he chuckles, as if he didn’t just tease you only to jab the toy in without even a warning. You can barely even hear him over the euphoric spread of the cold metal in you. 

After fully pushing the dildo into you, Hoseok holds it still in place and leans over you again, his lips right by your ear and whispers, “You fucking heard me and you’ll hear me again. You’re a desperate little whore,” he wiggles his fingers in your ass. There’s very little resistance, as if your ass finally recalls the times you bent over just like this for someone else… and maybe sometimes just yourself too.  “This says it all. I can’t believe you called me a whore when we both know you’ll spread your ass as many times as you need to for me, isn’t that right, princess?” 

His voice settles under your skin like a tattoo and rattles your bones. You cannot escape it when he begins to chuckle too, swirling the dildo around in you and licking at your ear. You can only nod, voice caught in your throat, and hope that it is enough to sway him into giving you what you want. 

Hoseok pulls his fingers out of your ass and hugs your waist. He takes the dildo out too, much to your whiney disapproval and kisses your shoulders. You whine louder, sinking into the mattress and wondering if you need to be vocal in order to get what you want. He has been telling you to do so since he first got you in his arms. 

“Daddy, I promise to be good,” you quickly whine. “I promise I’ll ask this time. You-you taught me so well. Please just fuck me! Please, please, please.”

“Shh, shh,” he soothes between little kisses on your hair. “Relax, princess. There’s no need to rush.”

You can feel his cock press against your folds. Fuck, why is he being so cruel? You have been good. You have followed all his orders. You haven’t even thought about how being in this position has captivated him more times than you can count. How your ass has not only been the object of his attention but the center of it. You have not pointed out the way you can make him melt into you so easily, you’d think the two of you have been doing this for years. 

Your thoughts have distracted you enough to not fully process the tip of the dildo pressing against your asshole. He has flooded your mind enough to make you relax into the bed shoulder falling with every kiss and inhale of your scent from your hair. Your tenseless posture has given him the perfect opportunity to finally push the toy into you. 

“Daddy!” You cry, hole clenching around that first bulb. 

“I know, princess,” he coos, all hints of that once harsh demeanor dissolving. “I know, but you need to relax, okay?” Then, he bites at the shell of your ear and says, “You know you remember how to do that.”

He’s probably going to hold this over your head the whole time. And that brings a smile to your face. Like a friend, it almost feels like an inside joke. Like a lover, it almost feels like a jealous jab. 

You arch your back a bit more and try your best to release the tension in your muscles. The wet toy moves further into you. Pearl after pearl pushes against your walls, fitting so snugly, you’re sure you wouldn’t be able to take his cock without it. 

Rubbing his cock against your pussy, tip poking at your clit, he asks, “It’s not so hard to be good, is it?” 

You bite your lip. A curse would spill out otherwise and you cannot risk him removing everything and going back to teasing your soul out. You don’t even dare think it, earning a gentle smack of his cock against your pussy. It spreads bursts of pleasure throughout your body. 

Aligning himself, he hovers around your entrance only to completely withdraw from you. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He practically promised, didn’t he? He told you to be a good girl. He told you he’d fuck you senseless. You still have your fucking senses. Why the fuck do you still have your fucking senses?

He turns you over so you’re on your back and spreads your legs in a couple of quick motions. Crawling over your body, he glares down at you. “I also told you to be patient, didn’t I?” He asks before spitting at your lips. 

Your tongue shoots out to lick it up. His anger collides with amusement, scowl shifting to a smile. The moonlight casts over his features, lighting up his scales again. He’s been standing behind you for so long, you’ve almost forgotten how beautiful he is. That thought is blasphemous all in itself. You wrap your arms around his neck. His scales scratch at your skin. You embrace the little scrap of pain. 

Hoseok curls a strand of your hair behind your ear as he gazes down at you. He kisses where he spat, only to pull away when you kiss him back, and spits again. You lick it away, slowly this time. 

He waits until you’re done, smiling to himself a bit, then dips his head into the crook of your neck. He inhales your scent before whispering into your skin, “Take a deep breath, princess.”

You fill your chest with air and he pushes himself in. His tip, the first half inch of him, is thick enough to make you slobber over yourself as you let out a shattered cry. You tighten your hold around his head, cradling him against you like a stuffed toy. He was right; you needed to be prepped. You would not have been able to take him so well if you hadn’t already cum. 

As he pushes himself in, you become increasingly aware of the fact that he really doesn’t fit. You clench and release with every new inch or so added, arching your back into him and whimpering. “Daddy’s so big,” you whisper aloud to yourself, as if you didn’t already know. 

Hoseok chuckles against your neck. He pauses his hips half way through and begins to trail kisses down along your collarbone to the valley of your breasts. He bites at your right one, tongue flicking over your nipple, just to watch you puff your chest out into his face. You’re thankful for the pause, loving the stinging stretch but truly needing a moment to accommodate it after being empty for so long. 

Sucking on your nipple, the little bud now between his teeth, making you blush, he hooks his hand under one of your thick thighs and rests it over his broad shoulder. This new angle further opens you up for him. You throw your head back, crying out his name like a prayer. He bottoms himself out. You’re not at all surprised that his tip presses exactly at the spot you need him most. He tugs at your nipple and grinds against the soft area all while holding your gaze. 

Tears prick your eyes. It’s too fucking good. It’s too fucking good and he didn’t even really start yet. You just feel so full. Both holes clench around whatever fills them. It rattles your lungs so that every new breath in or out is hiccupped. 

Letting go of your nipple, Hoseok grips onto your other tit and squeezes. His eyes darken when you match his grip onto his hair. Before you can even question your action, his hips snap into motion. Back and forth, he rocks your body enough to make you jiggle and shake. He’s enthralled by the sight, releasing your breast to watch them both bounce. He picks up the pace and smacks the left one. A chuckle escapes him when you call out his name. The pain is just as amusing to him as it is to you. He grabs hold of a nipple between his thumb and edge of his finger and pinches. 

You should have believed him. He warned you all along the way, but you should have believed him when he first mentioned it. He will ruin you- is ruining you. You cannot see straight, cannot think, cannot even breathe. Filled to your limits, you cannot believe in anything but him. 

He smiles. Did he hear you? You don’t care - you never did. Even when he caught you, when you should have been shameful, you weren’t. He knew that enough to visit so unexpectedly. You know that now. 

Hoseok lets go of your nipple to bury his face between your breasts again. He pushes one of them against his cheek, licking and kissing as he continues to thrust, thrust, thrust with renewed force each time. “Pretty, pretty little princess,” he groans between sloppy kisses. “Pretty, precious princess.”

You’re not sure which one of you is senseless now. Did he break your mind or are you breaking his? 

“You deserve the fucking ocean, princess. I’d- mmm, baby - I’d give it all to you if I could.” 

Does he know what he is saying? 

“I’ll kill for your smile… For this fucking tight pussy.” 

His growl snaps the pressure between your legs, twisting that taut knot looping in your gut. “Daddy-”

“Hoseok!” He corrects. “Say my name, princess.” 

“Ho-Hoseok,” you quickly adjust, “Hoseok, I-I’m getting close.”

He moans from his gills, rubbing your soft tits into them. Your cum smears all over your chest. Lost in his own little world created by your body, he brushes off your words. “You have no idea how much attention you deserve. This is not enough.” 

Not enough? You’re already shaking. You had forgotten that you shut your eyes somewhere between the first time he sucked on your nipple and the flash of that all too charming of a smile, and that is the reason why you couldn’t see straight anymore. He’s fucking you so well, you have lost all logic. Your senses are most definitely discarded somewhere on the floor. 

“Hoseok, please,” you try again, knowing that once you’re really close you won’t be able to properly warn him. Granting his permission now would save you the trouble of having to delay it. “Please, just-”

He moves faster, as if reading your thoughts and acting out of spite. The entire bed rocks. The headboard thumps against the wall over and over, the bed squeaks and the jewelry box, along with the lamp, candle and hair tie you had on the night table, falls to the floor with a clatter. All other sounds seem muffled beneath the loud screams tearing through your throat at every blissful, vigorous thrust into you. 

You aren’t preparing for the delay anymore, realizing that you’ve actually been trailing it for a while. Hoseok kisses his way up to your jaw, nibbling at your jawline. He moans loudly with you, gills vibrating against your skin. 

“Do you know how fucking adorably cute you get when you’re about to cum?” 

“Please, just please,” you sob, barely really comprehending his words. Your words slur and tangle as you clench around him tighter and tighter, trying desperately to be the good little girl he asked you to be. “Please, please, please, please, Hoseok, please,” you cry over and over, the words sounding more like “Hobi, Hobi,” rather than an actual request.  

He seems to like it more. Brushing his nose against yours, he smiles and finally gives into you. You would have made up words sooner if that’s all it took. 

“Cum, princess. Let’s make a mess.” 

And like the good little whore he adores, you follow orders and let yourself go. The high floods your veins so suddenly, you cannot catch your breath fast enough to breathe. Toes curled, jaw dropping, eyes rolling back and fingers digging into his scales, you release a scream loud enough for the sea to hear and respond with a particularly pointed roar of a wave. 

Hoseok does not slow down, the new influx in wetness fueling his hips all the more. He’s muttering something about how he’ll never let you go and listing reasons why you’re the center of every one of his thoughts. You wish you can properly hear him, the blood rushing to your head muffling every sound enough to disorient you. It doesn’t help that the orgasm has made you so lightheaded, you can’t even keep your head straight. It wobbles as he fucks you into the mattress. 

I want to parade us around Olympus. I want them to see my cum dripping out of you, princess. 

He’s gotten into your head. Knowing you can’t hear him, he’s floated right into your dimming stream of consciousness. You sob against his lips. He keeps your pleasured tears away, hips rolling in and out of you sloppily. It doesn’t alter the force of his giant cock.

You’ll look so pretty in olympian blue. 

You clench around him again. The thought of being so completely his that he dreams of showing you off, rises goosebumps over your burning skin. Your body still shakes against his beyond the consistent sway from his thrust. The sensitivity overdrives your mind, building a different kind of pressure between your legs. It bunches around your clit rather than the pit of your stomach. The fullness of your ass only further pushes it to its limit.

With one particularly rough jab of his cock, you let it all go. His thrusts begin to splash, you can just faintly hear it over the pounding of your heart, his throaty groans, and the smack of skin on skin. Body convulsing, you come to the realization that you are squirting. Jung Hoseok has fucked you beyond comprehension that you’ve actually been able to squirt. You didn’t think you were able to do anything like this, having never done it before. But, then again, you never thought you’d be fucked again at all… that is until Hoseok blessed you. 

You want him so badly to cum in you. That final filling would be all you need to live a wonderful life in a loveless marriage. But, you’re just not sure you can handle another second of this. It’s the same perfectly sensitive spot over and over again. You can’t really breathe, despite how much you’ve tried to convince yourself that you can. 

“Daddy,” you whimper. “Daddy, it-it’s too mu-uch. Pleas-” You cut yourself off with a whine, when he pulls himself out. 

Yes, it was too much and you truly couldn’t handle another second of it, your voice gone and body still quaking even with him out of you. But, your pussy still clenches pathetically at the emptiness. 

It’s not as if Hoseok has completely halted all pleasure though. He sits himself back on his knees and jerks himself off. Staring down at you, he cradles the legs you still have resting on his shoulder and pumps his cum coated cock to the sight of you falling apart. 

You meet his gaze, vision less blurry and hearing slowly regaining now that he was out. He looks so pretty with the moonlight casting over him, sparkling his scales and sweat slick skin. He looks so sexy with his messy hair and cock clicking with your wetness with every rough jerk. Where will he cum, you can’t stop yourself from thinking. Your tits? You cup and rough massage them the way he did. Or maybe he’ll shoot it all in your mouth. You have been whining for a taste for a while. Sticking your tongue out, you hope to catch a bit of him either way. 

Hoseok kisses the bend of your knee. He smiles down at you, for once at a loss for real words. The only thing that leaves his lips are strangled moans and your name in breathless gasps. On loop, it’s just you. 

Move your hands. 

You lay them back on either side of your head. So he opted for your tits then? Still, you hold your tongue out. You’ll get a taste anyway you can. 

Please cum on me, daddy. 

Hobi, he mentally corrects. You’re so cute when you call me Hobi.

Please cum on me, Hobi. I want to be dripping with  your cum too when you parade me.

A dark, amused glint catches in his eyes. He bites down on the soft fat of your thigh, just above the back of your knee. When you whimper at the gentle wound, his breath hitches. Those once indigo eyes roll back and his jaw sets as he groans against your skin. His gills vibrate, his body shakes so much the bed begins to rock again and he cums without a verbal warning. Well, that’s not entirely accurate. The sea crashes into the shore with a roaring splash seconds before thick strings of cum shoot all over your stomach, tits, and shoulders. You whine trying to get your tongue in his line of fire, but he seems to have strategically missed your mouth. Could this be your punishment for squirting without permission? 

He fucks his fist, coating you with enough cum to have it trail off you and onto the bed. His cock still stands erect when he’s done. You can’t stop staring at it. The red, swollen tip still looks so needy. You wonder if he’ll let you suck it. 

“You’re a total fucking cockslut now, huh?” He teases like he wasn’t just so obsessed with you himself, the mere sight of you got him off. 

Running two fingers along the curve of your breast, you hold his gaze and put whatever cum you collected in your mouth. It smelled like the ocean, you knew that. You’re still surprised when it tastes like it too, with hints of salt and seaweed. You suck hard on your fingers as if it could produce more. 

“A cumslut too,” he mutters, half out of breath. “Need some help, princess?” He goes to lean over you when the trident end of the dildo still clamped in your ass points at his knee. He casually lifts up your other leg and folds you enough for your ass to be open and accessible to him. “Hold ’em,” he mumbles like asking you to grab onto your legs so he can pull the toy out for you is a daily occurrence. 

Not that you’re complaining. 

Because that would be such a shame.

You playfully glare at his sarcastic comment, replacing his hold on your legs and your own. Get out of my head.

Stop thinking about me then. 

You stick your tongue out at him. He smacks your pussy with a chuckle. A gasping laugh tumbles out of you and you forget for a second that you almost have your legs behind your head and a dildo jammed in you. 

He rubs the affected area, laughing at the way it makes you whine, then whispers, “Deep, breath, okay princess?” You draw in a large breath and he slowly pulls the toy out, your hole simply gapping at him when he’s done.

Hoseok tosses it somewhere behind him on the bed and takes your legs out of your hands. He lets them rest back down on the wet sheet. It’s only then that you register the buzzing ache of your body. Your legs already feel sore, still spread wide as he lays between them. You don’t seem to mind though, especially not when he intertwines your fingers and holds your hands over your head. You’re really not sure where he’s going with this as his stomach is now too smeared with his own cum. 

Sticking out his tongue, Hoseok licks up all the cum from your right breast. You gape at how much his mouth can carry. You know you’d be having it leak from the corners of your lips if you attempted to do the same. 

Don’t you want a taste, princess? He asks as he shifts himself up so his lips hover over yours. You open your mouth and welcome the warm cum, swallowing like you have his cock lodged in your throat. You were right - it does leak from the corners of your mouth, no matter how fast you try to swallow it. Hoseok is quick though, he catches what he can and tongues it back into your mouth. 

Wordlessly, he repeats the process with your other breast. Then your shoulders. He finds a way to fill you with his cum after all, even while you’re sensitive and possibly done for the night. Your cheeks flush at that realization after swallowing your last mouthful of cum. You really hoped this would last all night, once again getting too ambitious for your own good. It’s just that being done means he’d leave, right? 

Hoseok fights off a little smile. He presses his body completely into yours, slightly suffocating you under his weight and whispers, “You’re so sticky.” 

“So are you,” you sigh. 

He brushes his nose against yours almost… lovingly. “I think we would both do well with a bath then.” 

A bath. You haven’t had one of those in a while. Sure, you obviously shower but you used to take baths often before you got married. It was your only time to unwind and relax with some tea and a trashy magazine you wouldn’t mind getting wet. You stopped because your mind would wander and no cup of tea or tabloid magazine could distract you enough from your problems. 

You're in his arms before you can properly answer. He’s cradling your body close to him as he leads you to the bathroom. You stare up at his sharp jaw, but he looks straight ahead. He told you that he hates it when you think about your marriage. He knows you hate it too. He knows it’s hard to think about something else. You still feel guilty for it though. He just spent the night telling you how much you don’t deserve shedding tears for someone else and you can’t even honour his time by respecting his efforts. 

Hoseok taps the bathroom door open with his foot. The faucet is already going, filling just over a half of the tub. He gives you a disapproving stare. It's the same one he gave you when he caught you talking down to yourself. As he steps into the tub, with you still in his arms he says, “You have nothing to be ashamed of.” 

It doesn’t always feel that way, you want to tell him as he lowers the two of you into the tub. The water is warm. Perfectly warm. He sits you down between his legs, his erection pressed flat between your back and his stomach. It makes him groan a bit but for the most part you don’t think he seems to mind. Your comfort has always been his priority.

“I know,” you reply instead. But, I still feel that way. 

Hoseok wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you further into his chest. You lead your head back on his shoulder. Your cheeks press against each other, his gills softly brushing your skin. He places a chaste kiss upon your jawline and says, “I’m not going anywhere.”

For now, you mentally add. 

Ever.

His voice echoes in your mind, shattering any other lingering thought of self doubt in the process. Is that what having faith does? 

“You’ll be here in the morning?”

“I’ll be around.” 

That’s not enough. You’re sure he knows this. But the circumstances of your reality call you back to land, you cannot lose yourself to the sea forever. You sink into him. He hugs you tighter. “I’ll take care of you, princess.”

“I know you will, Hobi.”

He smiles against your skin at the nickname. This is all you need now. Until the tides settle, the two of you will be drifting waves, desperate for an anchor of hope. 

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission.

[griffintail]

Hey Griffin I love your work, your writing is amazing, and I was wondering if I could spare you an angsty request: Parental Tommy falls into deep grief after their child, Reader, goes into prison to tell Dream off for blowing up their home and hurting their father and Uncle Tubbo, and gets killed by Dream. Maybe how Wilbur and Schlatt react to Reader in the afterlife, and what Tommy does to try and get them back. (Inspired by this week's streams)

I went farther than with this than I planned to originally. Lol. Thank you and I hope you enjoy!

Quiet Uptown

Pairings: Parental! Tommy x Teenage F! Reader

Warnings: Death, Blood, Mentions of Violence, Angst!!, afterlife, swearing

A/N: (F/L) is first letter of your first name because that’s just a Tommy thing.

        Sam hesitated when (Y/N) had stepped into his prison that day.

        The young sixteen-year-old girl stood there; her eyes filled with determination as she waited for Sam to speak.

        “What are you doing here?” Sam asked, standing up. “Does Tommy know you’re here?”

        “No.” She answered truthfully. “He won’t realize I’m gone for maybe two hours. He wouldn’t ever let me near here but I want to give Dream a piece of my mind after everything he’s put my family through. Dad and I both own only one life after everything he’s one and I want to let him know how badly he lost.”

        “I…Don’t think this is wise. You’re just a kid.”

        “I’m more than a kid! Everyone seems to forget I fought for Pogtopia at the age of thirteen and lost a life for it. I went and helped dad every day in his exile when no one else would! Dream killed me for that bullshit and I refuse to let him think he has control over me and my family anymore.”

        Sam could see it was more than that. She wanted to know that Dream no longer held control over her and her family. Dream had taken everything from them. Their nation, their family members, their two spare lives, their friends. Now he was locked away after Tommy won and she needed to know he couldn’t control them anymore.

        “Alright. Well, I need you to read this carefully and sign it.” Sam slipped into his role as Warden.

        He walked (Y/N) through the clearance steps and lead her down through the prison.

        Dream was a broken man. Sam made sure his spirit was broken and the masked man had long since stopped trying to escape. The poor young girl needed closure.

        …Sam was overconfident in his abilities.

        “If you need anything, call for me,” Sam told her and she nodded.

        And she was let into the cell.

        The man of the hour was surprised by his visitor, picking himself off the floor as he grinned behind his mask.

        “Well, well, well. It’s little Innit.”

        “Shut up.” (Y/N) immediately said. “You’ll listen to me today.”

        Dream held up his hands, giving a laugh. “Alright. Let’s hear what you have to say.”

        (Y/N) looked around the small cell and was reminded of her father’s claustrophobia…that Dream caused.

        “It’s fitting for you to be in here. Trapped in a box. Your life thrown in a hole, waiting to be destroyed.” (Y/N) said. “You did a lot to my family Dream, you hurt them, you killed them. There are people out there that say you don’t deserve this but I know everything you’ve done. You’re going to rot in here forever if it’s the last thing I do.”

        “You’ve got a pretty big ego there.”

        “You’re one to talk! You took everything from us because you couldn’t handle that we took away even a bit of your power!” She took a deep breath to calm herself and Dream saw the Tommy in her. “You tried to kill Tubbo, you were going to used what everyone loved against them. You’re a psychopath and you can’t be let out.”

        “People can change though. I can change and get out.”

        “You’ll never change! You’re talking bullshit and I know! Dad knows it! Sam, Tubbo, Quackity! You’re just bullshit! You’re a green little bitch and you’ll never get out! You can’t hurt us anymore. We’re in control now and we’re free from you forever.” She told him, getting in his masked face without thinking.

        She never meant to go so far into the cell…Sam had asked her not to…

        Dream’s grin turned wicked, (Y/N) unable to see it but she felt something in the air change and she paled slightly as she took a step back towards the netherite barrier realizing how far she went.

        “I might not be able to hurt anyone…outside!”

        “SAM!” She screamed, bolting for the barrier…but Dream was faster…

        “DREAM! DON’T!!” Sam commanded as he tried to bring the lava down as fast as he could! …

        …

        “Come on Tubbo. You’re getting shit at this.” Tommy laughed as he knocked Tubbo’s wooden training sword out of his hand.

        “You’re such an arse.” Tubbo huffed, going over to get some water.

        Tommy grinned. He had missed this, just being to train with Tubbo for the hell of it. (Y/N) said she needed to do something Ranboo, so it felt like he was missing something during the training but he was glad to know she was able to go out in the world without him worrying. Dream wasn’t out there anymore.

        The taller man was practicing his swings when Tubbo heard both their walkies beep. Someone must be calling them. Tubbo picked up his walkie, going to answer but his eyes went wide as he saw why the walkie had beeped. He dropped it, taking a step back, making Tommy look over in confusion.

        “What’s wrong with you?” Tommy asked, going over to see what it was.

        “T-Tommy, don’t—” Tubbo started but Tommy had already picked up the walkie.

        Tommy entire world stopped as he stared at the words on the screen.

        (Y/N) was slain by Dream

        “This—This is a stupid fucking joke.” Tommy tried to say, looking at Tubbo.

        But Tubbo had both his hands over his mouth as he was already starting to cry.

        “She…He’s in prison!” He shouted as he went for his own walkie. “This is shit joke Tubbo!”

        He couldn’t breathe as his walkie displayed the same message. It felt like the world around him was getting smaller as he couldn’t think of anything but those five words.

        “It’s not true!” Tommy screamed before snatching up his gear.

        He ran out the door to find it raining. His trident came off his back and was soaring through the air after throwing it through the rain. There was no fucking way, she was with Ranboo! Dream was rotting in a cell! He made sure of it!

        His baby should be as safe as she could be!

        Mud splashed all over him as he landed in front of the prison complex, soaking wet but he felt so numb. He couldn’t feel anything. He didn’t care about anything else, he just wanted to know who was playing this cruel joke.

        “SAM!” Tommy stormed in.

        Sam clutched the figure to him as he made his way past the empty prison cells hearing Tommy’s voice.

        He failed…

        This was all his fault…

        Sam stared at the last door where Tommy shouted his name again before taking a deep breath and opening it.

        Tommy snapped his head over and his entire world collapsed as Sam held the bloody figure in his arms. Their blood was coating Sam’s armor along with their own clothes.

        “No, no…NO! NO!!” Tommy shouted as he gripped his head taking a step back.

        That couldn’t be her, it just couldn’t be! She shouldn’t be here! She wasn’t here! It was all a…a dream…a nightmare!

        “Tommy.” Sam let out a heartbroken voice.

        Tommy looked up and looked to her neck. The (F/C) bandana was undeniable…

        Taking a shaky step forward, Tommy took the girl from Sam before collapsing to the ground, sobbing when he saw what Dream had done to her. He rocked, back and forth as he held her close.

        “Please…please little (F/L)…come back to me. I’m here now.” Tommy choked out his words as he stared down at the bloody girl. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here. Please come back (Y/N).”

        He put his forehead on hers as his tears stained her face.

        He let out a heartbroken scream!

        And it echoed all throughout the prison, making Dream’s maniacal laughter continue in his cell.

        …

        “Who’s this?” A voice asked.

        (Y/N) groaned at the feeling of a pounding headache before looking up.

        “(Y/N), I didn’t expect to see you here first.” She heard a much more familiar voice.

        She looked up seeing her Uncle Wilbur grinning at her.

        “W-Wilbur?”

        “Ayup.” He chuckled. “Nice to see you again kid.”

        “Where…Where…” She looked around at the darkness, startling when she saw the familiar ram man and scooted away. “Schlatt.”

        “Hey, brat. Nice to see you again.” He grinned. “Welcome to the afterlife.”

        “I’m…I died?” Her breathing picked up.

        Her head started to hurt and she gripped onto it as she remembered. The blood…the pain…daddy save me!

        She startled feeling a hand on her shoulder, seeing it was Schlatt as Wilbur stood there with his hands in his coat.

        “Yeah, it’s going to be pretty hard.” Wilbur shrugged. “We’ll…show you around.”

        Wilbur laughed as Schlatt rolled his eyes.

        “Come on brat.” He offered her a hand. “We’ll explain it all to you.”

        …

        Tubbo was waiting at Tommy’s base, his own heart shattering seeing his best friend sniffling as he wiped away his tears while covered in blood.

        “No.” Tubbo breathed.

        Tommy couldn’t think at the moment. The world seemed unreal. He couldn’t feel the rain hitting his body or the cold starting to set into him.

        “My little girl’s gone Tubbo.” He muttered.

        “I’m so sorry Tommy. What…what happened?” Tubbo asked.

        “I-I don’t know. I just…” Tommy put his hands through his hair, his breaths coming out short. “(Y/N)—She…Holy shit…My poor little (F/L)…”

        Tubbo came over putting his hands on Tommy’s shoulders. “Breathe Tommy.”

        “How?! My—She’s gotten! Beaten and blooded! She must have been terrified and I—I wasn’t there Tubbo!” Tommy shouted putting his hands over his face.

        “…What are you going to do?” Tubbo asked.

        Tommy rubbed his hands over his face. “I can’t think, I need…I need the night to get anything in me…”

        “Yeah, ok. I’ll stay.”

        “No, I…I really need some time alone right now,” Tommy told him.

        “…Ok. I’ll get a room at the hotel so I’ll be close by, ok?”

        “Yeah, alright,” Tommy muttered before pushing past into his house.

        Tubbo let tears roll down his cheeks before he looked at the prison, marching himself over.

        Tommy stood inside the house and…it felt so small and so quiet. He laughed bitterly to himself. Finally, it being quiet uptown made so much sense to him. Everything felt so dull and silent.

        Slowly, he went into his ender chest and pulled out his first disc. He stared down at it as he remembered finding (Y/N) after he found this disc. He ran a thumb over it as he remembered every time, he fought Dream for it till the final battle. He went to the bedroom, staring at the made bed across the room.

        He went to the jukebox and put the disc in as he sat on his bed staring at the empty one. His body broke down again as he cried into his hands.

        “If I had just kept the memories and you instead of this stupid disc you’d still be here!” He shouted to air. “I’m so sorry (Y/N)…I’m so sorry…”

        At the prison, Tubbo stormed in with a trident in hand.

        “What the hell happened?!” Tubbo demanded, Sam, sitting on his desk trying to process his own thoughts.

        “I was too late…” Sam muttered.

        “That answers nothing. What happened?!”

        “…She wanted to see Dream. She wanted closure after everything you’ve guys have been through…she was just a kid…and…”

        “Yeah, she was a kid, so why did you let her in?!”

        “Because she looked so broken. She wanted to see Dream couldn’t hurt her anymore. I-I-I thought I got the strength out of him! Then…she screamed for help…I tried to get in as fast as I could…he just laughed when I came in…”

        “…You shouldn’t have let her in.”

        Sam hung his low, knowing he was right.

        …

        (Y/N) sat watching the two men play solitaire.

        “Why’d you even go and see Dream?” Wilbur asked as he laid down an eight of spades on a nine of hearts.

        (Y/N) felt her throat tighten, it always making her feel weird when she did it past few days as she didn’t need to exactly breath.

        “I was having nightmares, Dream getting out and sit. I just…needed to see he was away, unable to hurt me.”

        Wilbur snorted and Schlatt punched him.

        “Shut the hell up man,” Schlatt told him.

        “Well, it obviously didn’t help, she’s here.” Wilbur rolled his eyes as Schlatt put down a five of diamonds. “And no punching, that’s round five.”

        (Y/N) breathing picked up and Schlatt huffed, throwing his cards down.

        “We’re not going to finish?” Wilbur questioned.

        “No, you’re driving us both nuts. Let’s go kid.” Schlatt hoisted her up and away, surprising her as that was the first time, he didn’t call her brat.

        (Y/N) glanced back seeing Wilbur continuing to play his game without them. She remembered Wilbur being insane before in Pogtopia. This was a whole new level.

        “We’ve been here for years,” Schlatt spoke, making her look at him. “He was nuts before; he’s even more fucked up now. I’m still more me because I’d rather sleep through this shit. You know the phrase I’ll sleep when I’m dead? That’s what I’m doing.” He grinned at his own joke.

        She snorted quietly, as she looked at her hands. “I just want to see my dad so bad…I lied to him as my last thing and…I miss him.”

        “I know kid. It’s hard for us to get down there though. I don’t even know how fuck face managed it.”

        “…Do you think he’s mad at me?” She asked.

        “No, I remember that stupid kid. If anything, someone probably had to hold him back, foaming at the mouth, from killing Dream himself with his bare hands. He wouldn’t be mad at you.”

        She smiled softly. She wished this had been president Schlatt and maybe everything would have been better. But Wilbur was right, L’Manberg needed to go, it corrupted everyone.

        …

        “Tommy,” Sam said as they stood in front of the lava wall.

        Four days had passed. Tommy had a funeral for his little girl and there had been gifts and tributes for her, but nothing made it, her. He felt like he was suffocating constantly and he couldn’t take it anymore. She had no ghost so Phil’s research would give him no help. But…there was one other thing.

        “You know what he’s going to ask for,” Sam spoke the obvious.

        “I know. He’s not going to get it.” Tommy said, his voice dead.

        Sam gripped the lever that would bring down the lava wall. “He hasn’t eaten in two days, he’ll be weak.”

        “Good. Now let me in.” Tommy stepped forward.

        Sam hesitated before pulling the lever. After a few minutes, Tommy was standing behind the netherite barrier. Dream grinned, his mask off as he stood up, holding his hands out.

        “The man of the hour! I’ve been waiting for you!” Dream laughed.

        The barrier dropped and Tommy walked in.

        “Bring her back.” Tommy simply stated.

        “Can’t without the book, you know what I’m going to need.”

        Tommy nodded, walking forward before hitting Dream with surprising force that sent him to the ground.

        “We’re…going to have a nice long chat,” Tommy told the surprised man in a monotone voice. “And it’s going to end with where you put that book or how to get my little girl back. So, let’s talk bitch.”

        Tommy would get her back. He wouldn’t let this be the end.

[dontbipanicjonsa]

The Unkiss

TW: discussion of sexual assault

The purpose of this post is to explore how and why the Unkiss came to be, and speculate (poorly) on what purpose it may serve in the future. Read under the cut  (thanks @esther-dot )

So, I’m going to tell everyone right away that I’m not a very big fan of the pre-existing theories surrounding the Unkiss. Specifically, I tend to disagree with the “how”. This is partly because I think all the explanations offered are too Freudian (*shudder*) and partly because I’ve had a similar instance myself so I tend to project (sue me). 

THE HOW

First, let’s look at the pre-existing theories: 

The Unkiss is actually a sexual fantasy that Sansa has confused with the real events that happened (exactly what Freud would say. Creepy fuck.)

Sansa invented the Unkiss to romanticize an otherwise traumatic event so she could cope with it better. 

Is there any other theory I’m missing? These are the ones I know. 

I’m going to jump straight to the second theory. The issue (for me) in this theory is that it sort of assumes that Sansa herself would consider that kiss “romantic” or that it would somehow help her cope the BoB night.

He yanked her closer, and for a moment she thought he meant to kiss her. He was too strong to fight. She closed her eyes, wanting it to be over, but nothing happened. - Sansa VII ACOK

This is the moment. She is expecting a kiss, but wanting it to be over. It’s very clear that the kiss would have been non-con. More importantly, it looks like Sansa herself would consider the kiss non-con. 

Why on earth would Sansa invent a kiss she didn’t want in the first place to make coping with an already traumatic event easier? 

He kissed me and threatened to kill me, and made me sing him a song. - Sansa II ASOS

This is the first time we are introduced to the Unkiss, and it shows that Sansa’s memory of that night is perfectly intact. The Unkiss is an addition. It isn’t replacing any other, more traumatic memory (like the threat to her life). 

Now this is what I think happened:

Her emotions were running high that night, and her mind muddled up real events with the memory of that mounting (practically tangible) terror. 

Yeah, it’s that simple. You know how you get really angry in a fight and then later you can’t recall the exact the words? Memory is unreliable. There are plenty of studies to show the varied effects trauma has on memory. There are plenty of studies to show how easily memory can distort. There doesn’t need to be a great, complex reason for Sansa to misremember a traumatic event. Also remember that Sansa may not be entirely sober for this encounter, since Cersei did make her chug that wine before. 

Being stuck in a situation where you’re terrified and anticipating some sort of assault any second? Having a single moment where the emotions peak, where you’re sure the assault is going to happen right that moment? Misremembering if the assault did or didn’t happen later? Yup. Been there, done that. I still don’t remember what happened, and it’s been years. I sure as fuck wasn’t romanticizing shit, so it never occurred to me to think that Sansa might be. So when I heard the theories I went back to her chapters and honestly, I don’t think she is either. Not yet.  

Then this happened:

She could still remember how it felt, when his cruel mouth pressed down on her own. He had come to Sansa in the darkness as green fire filled the sky. He took a song and a kiss, and left me nothing but a bloody cloak. - Alayne II AFFC

Now this is Sansa romanticizing the Unkiss. She romanticizes the kiss she remembers. That does not mean she invented the kiss to romanticize the BoB, it only means she remembers a non-con kiss from a traumatic night and chose to romanticize it to cope. See the difference? 

The kiss isn’t a way for her to romanticize her trauma to cope, she romanticizes the kiss that was a result of her trauma- to cope. 

I won’t be so sure of this theory though, because (no offense) but GRRM does seem like the kind of guy who would read Freud and incorporate his ideas in his story. There’s already a shit load of incest and let’s admit it, Sansa canonically has daddy issues. How far or in-depth did GRRM think about the “how” of the Unkiss? We don’t know. 

THE WHY

Well, this one has been explained by GRRM himself:

You will see, in A STORM OF SWORDS and later volumes, that Sansa remembers the Hound kissing her the night he came to her bedroom... but if you look at the scene, he never does. That will eventually mean something, but just now it's a subtle touch, something most of the readers may not even pick up on. - GRRM 

He also said:

File this one under "unreliable narrator" and feel free to ponder its meaning...- GRRM 

So, it’s safe to say that the Unkiss is basically being used to establish that Sansa has an unreliable memory. Of course, other characters probably have unreliable memory too (for example: Arya misremembering the name of Joffrey’s sword) but this is still most likely about Sansa. 

Sansa has always been considered an unreliable narrator by the GA anyway, since so much of her narration in the first book was at odds with the narration of Ned and Arya, who were both fan favourites at the time. This should probably indicate to the readers that the other characters are unreliable narrators as well, but it doesn’t. People carry on reading simply assuming that only Sansa’s POV is unreliable, or at least the most unreliable. So using Sansa’s POV to lay the groundwork for memory issues in someone else’s POV is...not gonna work. 

This doesn’t necessarily prove that the pay-off of the Unkiss is going to come from Sansa’s POV only, but it makes it seem likely. So I’m going to restrict myself to looking at the possibilities of misremembering stuff from Sansa’s POV. 

One more thing we need to look at before we start looking at future possibilities:

"It's not the same," Sansa said. "The Hound is Joffrey's sworn shield. Your butcher's boy attacked the prince." - Sansa III AGOT

On the surface, this looks like another memory edit. The situation is remarkably similar; it was a traumatic event for Sansa, she was not entirely sober when it happened, and now she is misremembering what happened. We know that Mycah did not attack Joffrey, Joffrey attacked Mycah. However, it’s not quite the same. For one, we don’t actually know if Sansa believes that, or if she’s just trying to be contrary to Arya. 

Also- 

"Sansa, come here." Ned had heard her version of the story the night Arya had vanished. He knew the truth. "Tell us what happened." - Eddard III AGOT

Sansa had told Ned what happened. But then she said-

She blinked at her sister, then at the young prince. "I don't know," she said tearfully, looking as though she wanted to bolt. "I don't remember. Everything happened so fast, I didn't see …"- Eddard III AGOT 

So.......is she lying or did her memory actually get fuzzy afterwards? What exactly did she tell Ned? Considering that he’s the one who asks her to “testify”, I’d assume she told things as they really happened (as in Joffrey attacked Mycah). Did her memory of the events slowly fade...and then reverse (as in Mycah attacked Joffrey)? Or is she just taking the neutral stance here, and later the opposing stance (Joffrey’s side) in her fight with Arya? We don’t know. 

PURPOSE IT MAY SERVE GOING FORWARD

First, let’s assume that the Trident accident really does count as a memory edit. This would mean that Sansa has edited her memory twice now, which makes it very likely that a third memory edit is coming. There are two directions this can go-

The third memory edit has already happened pre-canon (so technically it would be the first edit)

The third memory edit is going to happen sometime in the next two books.

Warning: this is where I get back on my Jonsa bullshit. Turn back now if you don’t wanna watch me make everything about Jonsa.

Pre-canon Jonsa crush 

If the first option is true, and Sansa has already edited her memory once that we don’t yet know about, then a pre-canon crush/moment between her and Jon is...a pretty strong possibility. 

I’ll admit, I’m very very skeptical of the pre-canon crush, simply because I think there isn’t enough evidence or foreshadowing for it. On the other hand, the groundwork has already been laid, if GRRM were to go in this direction..it would be believable. Shocking, but believable. 

We have numerous mentions of kissing games in the godswoods. We have a pre-canon conversation between Sansa and Jon about How To Hit On Ladies. And much more. The possibility is there. 

Sansa having a crush on Jon and being so traumatized she replaced Jon with Waymar Royce?? Sansa getting tipsy on watered down wine and giving Jon a blue rose-

There are other possibilities though, for example, a fight between Sansa and her father and/or Arya that she’s not remembering correctly. It would explain her daddy issues (even more) and work to create conflict between her and Arya (why though). But I don’t THINK there’s any evidence for that..? I don’t know I’m just throwing out ideas.

Moving on to the second option- a third memory edit to come

These memory edits are not likely to be nearly as innocent. 

One possibility I’ve heard about is Sansa forgetting her identity and sinking into Alayne. No. Very Unlikely. Sansa’s Stark identity appears to be going strong even in the TWOW preview chapter.

Second possibility- Sansa memory edits Lysa’s death. 

She was mad and dangerous. She murdered her own lord husband, and would have murdered me if Petyr had not come along to save me.- Alayne I AFFC 

It’s...possible? But it looks like she does remember what Lysa said and how she died. She’s just suppressing/dismissing the parts that implicate Littlefinger, which is not the same as a memory edit, where the memory is changed somehow. 

More possibilities- Littlefinger will do something and that will lead to a memory edit. She’ll flee from the Vale and run into Ramsay (I dearly hope not) and bam trauma -> memory edit. The possibilities are pretty much endless. 

Now let’s assume that the incident on the Trident was not a memory edit. This means she’s only had one memory edit yet....in which case the pay-off is probably something kiss-related, or it is something she remembers, but which didn’t really happen. A pre-canon kiss, or some serious Freudian shit that I’ve been trying desperately to avoid, a Sansa-Sandor faceoff....yea I’m not actually good at speculation.

[awake-dearheart]

Fathoms Below [Chapter 8: Where You Belong]

moodboard by @the-southernbelle

Series Masterlist

Summary: Following the death of his uncle, King Benjamin, Prince Peter is determined to hunt down the mermaids he thinks are responsible. When his own ship is taken down in a storm and he’s rescued by one of the mermaids he’s sworn to kill, how will his feelings change? And how will this little mermaid feel when she finds out his true intentions toward her kind?

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: Thor being a huge dick and wrecking shit

Word Count: 2602

A/N: Thanks to and @jamesbbarnes-anon for beta reading for me! This chapter was originally supposed to be WAY longer but I decided to make it two. I’m glad I did. If you’d like to be added to the taglist for this fic or the Once Upon A Time Collection, just send an ask!

Steve rubbed his temples with his fins and sighed for what seemed like the thousandth time that day. He had followed Y/N to her cavern hours ago and she had spent the entire time fawning over the human she’d saved from the shipwreck. No matter how many times Steve tried to derail her or get her to leave, she pressed on.

“And his eyes,” she sighed. “I could just see something in his eyes. He felt so awful about that thing with the knife. I just wish I could see him again. There’s so much I’d ask him.”

“Well, you can’t,” Steve grumbled. “You don’t even know where he lives. Can we go home now?” She sighed and swam up to the shelf with her books, removing Peter’s portrait and staring at it fondly.

“I wonder if he’s thinking about me too,” Y/N mused. She was too preoccupied by her daydreams to notice the shadow that loomed in the entrance. Steve noticed it however and gasped as King Thor entered. His eyes scanned the cavern in shock until they landed on his daughter, her back still to him.

“I didn’t want to believe it,” he breathed, causing Y/N to drop the photo in her hands and turn sharply to face him.

“D-daddy!” she stammered. “How did you-” She stopped when she spotted Bucky hiding behind Thor’s shoulder. Her eyes narrowed at the crab and he stared right back at her, confirming in her mind that he was the one who told the king.

“This ends now,” Thor commanded, his stern voice leaving no room for arguments. “You have no idea what the consequences of something like this could be.”

“It’s just a collection. It’s nothing dangerous!” she protested.

“You don’t understand,” he mumbled, his eyes taking in the magnitude of her collection.

“So, explain it to me!” she yelled back. Thor sighed deeply and spun the trident in his hands. His shoulders sagged slightly under the weight of the secret he’d been carrying her whole life.

“Your Majesty,” Bucky urged behind him.

“I know,” the king replied. “I suppose it’s time.” Y/N sucked in a breath and watched her father carefully as he rested his trident against the wall. He turned to face her and sighed again, moving his hands quickly through the water. He drew small circles at first, letting them grow larger until the water swirled and rushed on its own. Thor dropped his hands and Y/N watched in awe as the water continued moving and an image formed in the center. If she didn’t know better, she would have thought it was a mirror.

“How did you do that?” she whispered.

“It’s an old mermaid spell,” Thor said with a smirk. “It allows us to see any event that happened in the water.” She nodded as he spoke, mesmerized by the image before her. It showed a young human woman swimming in the ocean. Y/N moved closer, eyes transfixed on the image.

“What are you trying to show me?” she asked.

“Your mother,” Thor answered softly. Her eyes widened farther, if that was even possible, and she continued to stare at the woman.

“B-but she’s…. she’s human,” she sputtered.

“Do you remember why the war between Loki and I began?” he asked.

“Uncle Loki wanted to rule over the humans,” she replied, reciting the lessons she’d learned as a child. “He thought mermaids were better than them and that we should control land and sea. You disagreed and wanted to reach out to the humans in brotherhood, and that’s why grandfather chose you to be king.”

“That’s almost all of it,” Thor said, looking fondly at the image as a young merman appeared in the water. “The truth is, he didn’t always hate humans. It wasn’t until after I met Jane that his resentment for them grew.”

“What does mother have to do with the war?” Y/N asked, watching the image closer. The merman moved closer to the swimming woman, and she realized suddenly it was her father.

“Your mother was born a human,” Thor admitted, causing Y/N and Steve to gasp.

“Th-the queen?” Steve asked, astonished.

“We met long ago,” the king explained. “This was before the surface world was forbidden. We were all still wary of humans, but we’d approach them now and again. I met your mother on a day I was feeling particularly bold. She was alone so I went up to her. I was worried she might be afraid or disgusted by me, but she was more curious than anything else. From the moment she spoke I knew she was...incredible. Before either of us knew it, we’d fallen in love.” The spell flashed through images of her parents, always in the water. They looked at one another with adoration in their eyes, and Y/N felt a pang in her heart at how happy and content her mother looked. She had been born during the war, and only knew her mother as a battle-hardened queen. Seeing her mother lovestruck and happy made Y/N wonder what else she didn’t know about her.

“That doesn’t explain-” she began, but Thor held up a hand to stop her.

“We knew that if we wanted to be together someone would have to give up everything,” he continued. “In the end, Jane decided she wanted to become a mermaid. It wasn’t a decision she came to lightly, but she knew what the cost would be, and she was willing to pay it. She had no family left on land and wanted the chance to elicit change, which was something she could do as queen. I went to my father and begged him for his help. The magic to change a human to a mermaid existed, but it was old and beyond my capabilities at the time. It took years of pleading to convince him. Years. And in all that time, Jane’s resolve never faltered. Not once. Finally, father agreed, and we were married.” The spell showed the wedding and her parents looking elated. Merpeople were crowded around the palace, cheering and clapping.

“Why have you never told me this?” Y/N breathed, shaking her head slightly.

“Because of what happened next,” Thor sighed. He waved his hand and the image changed. Her parent’s faces were replaced by the piercing green eyes and inky black hair of her uncle.

“Loki didn’t like her?” she asked.

“Loki saw my marriage to Jane as an insult to our culture,” he replied. “He’d never hated humans, but he’d always felt they were beneath us. After Jane and I married, and father decreed I would be king everything changed. Loki’s mild annoyance for the humans turned into full blown disdain. He and his followers declared war and demanded I surrender the kingdom of Dorai to him.”

“But he failed,” she said, turning her gaze from Loki’s haunting stare back to her father. “You won.”

“Decades later,” Thor agreed. “And at the cost of many lives. Including your mother’s. As I banished Loki to the depths of the sea, he swore his revenge; not just on Dorai but the surface world as well.”

Y/N listened to her father’s story and struggled to take it all in. Her head spun as she tried to process all the information her father had given her. Learning that her mother had been human, that she herself was half human, made so many things so much clearer. Suddenly, the unexplained draw she had always felt toward the human world made sense. It wasn’t just the call of something far off and unknown. It was the other half of herself. It was part of who she was, and who she’d always been; a child belonging to both worlds.

“Do you understand now?” Thor asked desperately. “Do you finally see what I’ve fought so hard to keep you away from the surface? Your mother went from land to sea and it nearly destroyed both worlds. If the humans knew about our existence they’d venture into the sea and seek us out, putting them all at risk. I outlawed the surface to protect them.” His eyes bored into Y/N’s, begging for her understanding. She looked back at him, and for a second she wanted to give in. She wanted to tell her father she understood and that she’d obey, if for no other reason than to ease his obviously troubled mind.

But obedience had never been in her nature.

“Nobody has seen Loki in years,” she said, shaking her head. “Why don’t we reach out to the humans now? We could form an alliance with them and then Loki wouldn’t stand a chance.” From behind her father, she could hear Bucky groan. Thor rubbed his eyes with one hand and waved his other, calming the churning water that formed his spell.

“Until we know that Loki is no longer a threat it’s too great a risk,” he said. “The human world isn’t ready for something like that.”

“That’s not true!” Y/N cried. “They’re more than you give them credit for. I saved a human from a shipwreck and he was kind and-”

“You WHAT?!”

The echo of Thor’s booming voice rang through the cavern as Y/N clapped her hands over her mouth, realizing too late what she had confessed to. Steve and Bucky huddled together, hiding themselves behind a nearby jewelry box. Thor’s chest rose and fell heavily as he held out his arm. The trident flew into his outstretched hand, glowing softly in the dark cavern. The king’s face hardened as he raised the trident and stared his daughter down.

“I thought you were old enough to understand,” Thor said, a coldness in his voice that hadn’t been there a moment ago. “But you still have much to learn. This is where you belong, and my word under the sea is law. If this is the only way to teach you that, so be it.”

Lightning flashed in his eyes and Y/N realized in horror what was about to happen. She opened her mouth to scream in protest as Thor aimed his trident, sending a huge blast of lightning across the cavern. Books exploded at the impact, sending pages flying through the water. He aimed again, this time destroying a shelf of portraits. He continued his rampage, moving around the cavern slowly and methodically, decimating every human artifact Y/N had collected over the years. She could only watch, frozen in terror as her father laid waste to everything she loved. Her first scream had died quickly, cut off and turned to sobs by the overwhelming heartbreak she felt. Even Bucky protested the king’s actions, but he fell silent quickly when Thor’s eyes flashed in his direction. Once everything in the cavern has been reduced to rubble, Thor turned back to his daughter. His breath caught in his chest at the sight of her in a heap on the floor. He faltered at the anguish written across her face, but quickly steeled himself and looked down at her.

“One day you’ll understand,” he mumbled, turning quickly to leave his destruction behind.

Y/N wasn’t sure how much time passed after her father left. It could have been minutes, or hours, or even days. All she did was lay on the floor of the cavern, surrounded by her broken collection, and sob. Steve and Bucky had stayed behind when Thor left, but they were both too terrified to know what to do. Nobody had seen this side of the king since the war, especially not his daughters. Steve swam forward cautiously, nuzzling himself against Y/N’s hair and closing his eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. She sniffled and opened her eyes, turning to hug her friend when something on the ground caught her attention. It was stuck under a broken piece of glass and fluttered helplessly against the current. She swam toward it and carefully moved the glass, finding Peter’s portrait somehow completely intact. Her fingers ran gently over his face just as a flash of red appeared at the entrance of the cavern.

“Poor child.”

“Sweet child.”

The voices, one male and one female, came back to back, causing Y/N and her friends to whip around in fear. Two eels slowly entered the cavern. One of them had glowing red eyes, and they both wore matching smirks as they began to encircle the princess.

“Who are you?” she asked, looking between the two of them. The glowing red of the first eel’s eyes faded to black and Bucky moved slowly to put himself between the invaders and Steve.

“My name is Wanda,” the first eel said. “This is my brother, Pietro. We represent someone who can help you.”

“Help me with what?” Y/N demanded.

“With your prince,” Pietro replied, eliciting a small gasp from her.

“With his help, you can see your beloved human again,” Wanda said, swimming around and facing her.

“And just who might he be?” Bucky asked. Wanda and Pietro drew themselves level with Y/N’s eyeline and spoke in unison.

“Loki.”

Everyone in the cavern stiffened at the mention of Loki’s name. Steve swam around quickly to Y/N’s side with Bucky close behind. He nudged her arm until she lifted it for him, and he cowered beneath her. Bucky took his place on her shoulder and whispered in her ear.

“We need to go,” he urged. “I know you’re upset but these...creatures are dangerous. As is your uncle.” Steve shook nervously under her arm and nodded in agreement.

“Why should I trust my uncle to help me?” she asked. “Especially after what my father just told me about him.”

“The same father lied to you your entire life?” Pietro questioned.

“The same father who did this?” Wanda added, gesturing to the ruined cavern. Y/N swallowed thickly and looked around at the tattered remains of her collection. She didn’t want to agree with the eels, but her father’s actions spoke for themselves. He had kept secrets from her for her whole life. He hadn’t trusted her with the truth, so why should she trust him? Wanda and Pietro sensed her hesitation and began to swim around her again.

“We offer nothing more than a choice,” Wanda began.

“If you choose to come with us, we will take you to Loki, and a chance to find your prince,” Pietro continued.

“If you choose not to, you can stay here.”

“With your knick-knacks.”

“But if I were you, I’d be asking myself one very important question.”

“Is this where you belong?”

As he finished speaking, Pietro flicked his tail under Y/N’s hand, forcing Peter’s portrait back up into her eye line. Her thoughts drifted back to the beach. Knowing what she knew now, she was even more desperate to learn about the human world. Her curiosity was no longer a childlike wonder, but now a need to know where she came from. Half of who she was belonged up on the shore, among the humans. Before the war, her father had wanted to befriend the humans and join with them to help advance both their cultures. Maybe now was the time and maybe she could be the one to do it. If she could find Peter and explain things to him, maybe together they could join their worlds. Wanda and Pietro were almost out of the cavern when she called out to them.

“Wait!”

“Y/N!” Steve hissed. “Please don’t tell me you’re actually considering this.” She looked between Bucky and Steve, both shaking slightly at her sides. The eels turned back to face her as she tucked Peter’s portrait into her bag.

“Take me to him.”

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[atomic-taco-muffin]

The Lost Princess Chapter 32

Warnings: Same as the other chapters

Rating: SFW

You and the trio had exited the Eighth Floor world entrance and had entered the world of Atlantica. 

“Gawrsh! This looks like the bottom of the sea,” Goofy said. 

“It sure does. So how come we can breathe?” Sora said. 

“Hmm... Beats me! Maybe someone cast a spell on us?” 

“It's just like breathing air!” you said.

“But it's not air. See? Someone's swimming this way!” Donald said. Ariel appeared and swam over to the four of you, holding a trident.

“If anyone asks, you didn't see me!” she said. 

“What?” Donald asked. 

“Sorry, I don't have time to explain. Just promise you won't tell!”

“Hey, what's that sparkling thingy you got there?” Goofy asked. 

“Oh, nothing---nothing at all! Remember, you didn't see me!” She swam away leaving you and the trio confused. 

“What was that all about?” you asked. 

“Well. Looked like she was in a hurry,” Donald said. 

“She was hiding something,” Sora said.

“I wonder what it was?” You, Sora, Donald, and Goofy entered the throne room of King Triton, and met a crab named Sebastian.

“Oh, woe is me...” Sebastian said. 

“Is something wrong?” Sora asked. 

“Someone stole the king's magic trident. Atlantica is defenseless! And to top it off, Princess Ariel has disappeared! King Triton's worried sick. He won't leave his chambers.” 

“Ariel? She disappeared?” you asked. 

“Ariel's friend Flounder would know where she is, but now he's gone, too.” Sora turned to you, Donald, and Goofy.

“Wait a sec... Didn't we just see Ariel?” he asked. 

“Yep. But she didn't look real happy to see US! Hey, wasn't she carrying something when we saw her?” Goofy said.

“You don't think that was the trident?” you asked. Jiminy hopped down.

“You know, maybe it was,” he said. 

“Wak? But that means Ariel stole it!” Donald said. 

“There must be some explanation.” Sebastian was talking to himself while the five of you were talking.

“Ariel! Where did you swim off to this time? If anything happens to you... The king will think it's all my fault! He told me to keep an eye on her, and now this! What if she ran away because of something I said?! King Triton will banish me forever!” he said.

“He'll pop his shell if we tell him Ariel took the trident,” you said to the trio.

“Guess we'll have to get to the bottom of this ourselves!” Goofy said. You and the trio left the throne room. You, Sora, Donald, and Goofy found Ariel and the trident in her grotto.

“There she is!” Sora said. 

“This is all my fault. I wish I'd never taken Daddy's trident. I should've known things would turn out this way,” Ariel said to herself. 

“She DID take it!” Donald said. 

“Pipe down! Somebody's comin'!” Goofy said. 

“No need to worry, child. You did the right thing,” someone said. Suddenly, Ursula appeared in a cloud of black smoke.

“Why, I'm sure you'd do anything in the world to help your little friend. Poor Flounder has been swept away to the human world. No place for a little fish. Why, if we don't hurry, you might not have a friend to save---” she said. 

“No!” Ariel said. 

“Besides, you're not GIVING me the trident, dear---just letting me borrow it for a bit. You can save Flounder! Lend me the trident, and I'll help you!” 

“I know. But Daddy needs the trident to defend Atlantica. I need time to think.”

“Well, it's all the same to me. Just remember, your little friend is dodging fishhooks while you twiddle your fins. Well, you can come see me once you've made up your mind.” Ursula disappeared in a cloud of black smoke. 

“What am I going to do?” Ariel asked. You, Sora, Donald, and Goofy walked up to Ariel.

“Don't trust HER, that's for sure,” you said. 

“How long have you been listening?” Ariel asked. 

“Oh, long enough,” Sora said. 

“It doesn't matter. (Y/N)'s right! Don't trust that sea witch! She's up to no good. You can see it in her face!” Donald said.

“Then we all agree! The problem is, I don't have any idea where Flounder is. And she's the only one who can help,” Ariel said. 

“What about us? C'mon. Let's go talk to her. You shouldn't have to do this by yourself,” Sora said. 

“Really? You'll come with me?”

“You bet! Sora and I know how it feels to have friends in trouble. Let's get going!” you said. You, Sora, Donald, Goofy, and Ariel entered Ursula's lair. Ursula came out of the shell at the end of the room and down to the ground.

“My, so many guests! Have you made up your mind, my dear?” she said. 

“I'll do anything for Flounder. But I need proof I can trust you. You said we could save Flounder if I gave you the trident. Well, prove it!” Ariel said. 

“But of course! See?” Ursula waved her hand, and Flounder appeared in a shroud of darkness.

“Ariel!” Flounder said. 

“I knew something was fishy!” Donald said. 

“There you have it. If you want your precious Flounder back, give me the trident!” Ursula said. The trident glowed and levitated over to Ursula.

“Ha ha! Mine at last! Now I'm ruler of all the seas!” she said. 

“Let Flounder go!” Ariel said.

“But of course! I'm feeling generous.” Ursula let Flounder go and he swam over to Ariel.

“Which reminds me... You always wanted to see other worlds, didn't you? Well, dear, I know just the world to send you to! Unfortunately, this will be a one-way trip!” Ursula said. She created a strike of lightning with the trident. You and Sora was transported to a single platform. Ursula, who had grown gigantic with the power of the trident, slammed her tentacles down.

“The sea and all its denizens shall grovel before me!” she said. You and Sora fought and defeated Ursula. Everyone was back in Ursula's lair afterwards.

“Please don't be mad, Ariel. That ol' witch tricked me,” Flounder said. 

“Flounder, as long as you're safe, nothing else matters. Now all we have to do is return the trident and everything will be okay,” Ariel said.

“But what if the king finds out you're the one who took it in the first place?” you asked. 

“I'll be grounded forever...” Sebastian's voice was heard somewhere in the area.

“Ariel! Ariel! Where are you, girl? If you can hear me, please answer!” he said. 

“It's Sebastian! He came all this way just to find me,” Ariel said. 

“Yep, and when he does, you're gonna get it!” Goofy said. 

“Hey, I know! Why don't you just say the sea witch stole the trident? And you got it back all by yourself! Then there's no way you'll get in trouble!” Sora said. 

“I just had the same idea! But...I can't do that. I don't want to get in trouble, but I can't lie. Not about this. I know I haven't made the best decisions lately. It was a mistake to take the trident. But I made that mistake because I wanted to help you, Flounder. I'm proud of that. Blaming someone else would mean giving those feelings up. So, I'm going to tell the truth,” Ariel said. 

“She's right, Sora! Honesty is the best policy,” Jiminy said. 

“Hey, I was just kidding! Great, now I'M the one in hot water!” Sora said. You and the gang soon left Atlantica and entered the Eighth Floor Exit Hall. You and Sora saw Riku walking to the next floor and gasped. The two of you then ran to Riku.

“Take the hint... I told you two to go home,” Riku said. 

“Not until we rescue you 'n Naminé,” Sora said. 

“I don't remember ever asking you two to rescue me.”

“Did you forget? Kairi's there---waiting for us to come home,” you said. 

“You're the one who forgot. I told you at Kingdom Hearts when we closed the door... ‘Take care of Kairi.’” You and Sora gasped and looked down.

“Give it up. I'm not going back to the islands---for anything,” Riku said. 

“It's not just for Kairi! What about the rest?” you said. 

“You can have those losers. Already forgot 'em.”

“That's enough!” Sora said as he summoned his keyblade and you with your dagger. 

“What about you, guys? Do you actually remember what they all look like?” Riku asked.

“Of course we rememb---” Sora said. Sora looked down causing Riku to laugh.

“Don't feel bad. That's what this castle does to you---after a while. It's good. You forget all the useless stuff and remember for the first time what really matters. I remembered it. I now know the one thing that is most important to me. Protecting Naminé. Nothing else matters---not a thing,” Riku said. You and Sora looked at Riku and remembered when the three of you used to fight using wooden swords as children.

“Hey...Riku... I think I'll jog your memory,” you said. Sora readied his Keyblade while you readied your dagger. Riku snickered and raised his Soul Eater.

“Go ahead and try,” he said. You, Sora, and Riku battle. After the battle, Riku laid on foot on the ground, defeated. He used his weapon to get up.

“Hmph. Too bad, you two. You can fight me all you want, but I still won't remember a thing,” he said.

“C'mon, Riku... Let's quit fighting---let's go help Naminé,” Sora said. 

“Together---right. So like you... ...Sora, (Y/N)---you're always trying to worm your way into my heart!” He held his weapon to you and Sora in a hostile manner.

“Hold on! When did we ever do that?” you said. 

“Hmph, you forgot that, too? You two never cared. It never mattered to you!” Riku said. He ran away into the next floor.

“You won't push us away,” Sora said. You and the gang left the Exit Hall. Meanwhile, the girl was still in the white room. Axel appeared and walked over to her.

“Does it hurt, Naminé? Watching your three childhood friends fight all because of you? You have my sympathies. From the heart,” he said. Naminé picked her head up and looked angrily at Axel.

“But don't waste your time. We Nobodies can never hope to be somebodies,” Axel said. 

~~~~

You, Sora, Donald, and Goofy entered the Ninth Floor. Sora sighed and you put your head down while Donald and Goofy looked at each other, worried.

“I don't get it. Riku and I---we both want the same thing. Both of us want to help Naminé out. How come we're fighting each other? I mean, Riku and I have argued about stuff in the past, but...” Sora said. 

“I know. But he was always so kind around me. What happened to him?” you said. 

“Could be 'cause ya care what happens to each other,” Goofy said. Donald nodded in agreement.

“Hm... I really thought so, too, but...maybe Riku doesn't...” Sora said.

“You can't give up. You're friends---tied together. (Y/N), Sora, Riku, and... and... What was her name?” Donald said. Goofy thought but came up with nothing.

“Hm. It seems our memories are fading mighty fast. Sora, (Y/N), we gotta hurry. I bet Riku will come around if you just talk to him,” Jiminy said. 

“You're right. We three were never apart. Me, Sora, 'n Riku... ...and Naminé,” you said. You and Sora held up the next card at the Ninth Floor world entrance, and entered to the next world.

To be continued...

[klbwriting]

Center of Two Worlds

Chapter 8: Meeting the Parents

Fandom: DCEU

Pairing: Orm x female!Reader

Warnings: some violence, just an FYI there will be smut in this story soon but it will be labeled in case you don’t want to read that

Tags: @whimsicalragnarok​   @bookdragoneve​ @scuzmunkie​ @fangsweetpea​ @dulcerdzx​ @downsideright​ @aggie-the-poet​ @weakling-grace​

Y/N and Orm rushed up the driveway on foot, running as fast as they could towards the large ranch house.  Y/N's family lived on a horse ranch that her parents ran in between their work at the aquarium and museum, giving them a few acres to live on and plenty of buildings to be in when the pair arrived in the early hours of the morning.  Y/N looked at the time on her watch and sighed.

              "Should still be having breakfast," she panted, knocking on the front door urgently.  She hoped she was right and that her parents hadn't changed their schedule.  She was rewarded when her mom opened the door and she smiled wide.

              "Y/N!  You're back, we weren't expecting you for some time, Vulko said you were having a good time in Atlantis," she said, hugging her daughter close before noticing Orm.  "I see you made a friend."  Y/N blushed before realizing more important things were happening besides her whatever this was with Orm.

              "Mom, is Vulko still here?" Y/N asked.  "There's something bad coming and we need him to get help."  Her mother frowned but nodded, moving aside for them to come in. The two entered the house and Orm looked around, for a second considering this was the place that Y/N had grown up in.  He noticed pictures on the wall of the family, of Y/N as a child and smiled, she was cute and all smiles, just like now.  Y/N caught him looking and nudged him to keep following them into the kitchen where her dad and Vulko were now standing.

              "I thought that was you," Velka said as Y/N entered.  She walked over and hugged her father tight and Orm watched with his head tilted.  His father had never been affectionate to him, never showed him that kind of love so this was foreign for him to see.  Vulko smiled, seeing his son's family all together warmed his soul.  "What's wrong?"

              "Black Manta, Vulko he may be coming here, there's an Atlantian working with him to find me and Orm, I don't know what for," Y/N explained.  Vulko nodded.

              "I'll go get Arthur and Mera, if they find this place we may need to defend it," he said.  The ranch was a few miles from the coast and could be seen from the beach and therefore could be easily accessed by Manta and his men.  Vulko left Atlantis at once while Velka and Y/N told her mother, Janet, to go to the storm shelter where she would be safe.  Orm looked at Y/N.

              "You should go too," he said.  He didn't want her to get hurt and she had only been training a couple weeks, she wasn't ready to face Manta and she had no weapon or powers.  Y/N looked at him like he was crazy.

              "I am staying with you Orm, I may not be able to face Manta but I can be backup and I can handle one of his minions probably," she said.  Orm glared, trying to intimidate her.

              "You are going to hide, I cannot let you fight, you're too weak, you haven't trained enough for this..." he started until her hand covered his mouth and it was very obvious she wasn't intimidated at all by him.  He glared more.  He couldn't let her get hurt, he would never forgive himself.  "I cannot let you fight," he said, removing her hand from his mouth and holding it.  "I cannot lose you."  She looked at him with soft eyes.

              "Orm, I am going to help you at least until Arthur and the rest arrive," she said.  He was about to argue when the door was blasted open and he threw himself in front of Y/N, blocking her from getting hit with any debris.  "Out the back," she said, pulling him towards the back door off the kitchen and around the house.  Manta stalked through the house looking for them, arriving back at the front door to watch the pair running towards the beach.  He followed them easily and fired a shot, hitting the sand just behind them, sending them apart from each other and landing on the sand.  He jumped, landing next to Y/N and lifting her by her hair to stand.  She cried out loudly, struggling to break free.

              "Let her go!" Orm demanded, standing up and looking livid.  He didn't have a weapon but he would fight Manta anyway, anything to get him to leave Y/N be.  He was expecting Manta to fire at him, having to dodge the canons until he could get in close, what he wasn't expecting was someone firing an Atlantian weapon from the ranch house.  Manta cried out and dropped Y/N as he was hit in the back with a pulse weapon, knocking him forward.  Y/N tore off away from Manta and towards Orm, moving to stand beside him, looking for who had fired. Janet stood near the house still, weapon aimed again.

              "Where did she get that?!" Y/N and Orm said at the same time, shocked.  Manta stood and signaled for those with him to attack.  Several suited soldiers landed on the beach and Orm took notice that none of their equipment was as advanced at Manta's, an advantage over them.

              "You handle the two on the right," he said to Y/N, "I will take Manta and the other 3."  She nodded.  "Don't get hurt."

              "Likewise," she said before running at the two on the right.  Orm went after his group, watching as one was taken out by another shot from the gun Janet was holding.  Manta fired at her and she dove, tossing the weapon in the process to get away from the shot.  Orm took his opening while Manta was distracted and attacked, throwing shots and throwing him into the water before turning his attention to the minions.  While he fought he kept an eye on Y/N, wanting to intervene if he needed to but he was pleased to see she had been paying attention in her training and holding herself well against her two human opponents.  He felt pride swell in him but that was quickly demolished when he was hit from behind with a shot from Manta's helmet.  It burned and he cried out, expecting another hit, but instead Arthur landed behind him, tossing down a trident for Orm to use.

              "I could use one of those!" Y/N called from where she was starting to have trouble with her opponents.  Arthur glanced over after dismantling another minion, and Orm took out the other with his new trident.

              "Mera has yours!" he said, watching as Mera took out a minion that was attacking Y/N, throwing her the silver trident that she then used to finish off the last henchmen, all of them turning to face Manta.

              "I like this team," Manta said.  "It'll be good when I can control it."

              "Not going to happen Manta," Arthur said, getting into his fighting stance.  "Now how about we finish this once and for all?"  Manta chuckled.

              "Not today," he said, firing off from his helmet one last time and using the distraction to get into his sub and zoom off.  Arthur dove into the water to give chase but was dismayed to find the stealth technology that was added made the sub impossible to find while in motion.  He came out of the water to find Orm carefully looking over Y/N, Mera off to the side watching a little awestruck at Orm, royal dick of the sea, being so caring and gentle with someone.

              "I think she's ok Orm," Mera said finally.  Orm looked at her and then back at Y/N who nodded in agreement.  He turned to Arthur.

              "Did you find the traitor in Atlantis?" he asked.  Arthur shook his head.

              "I don't know yet, Vulko and Velka should be here soon to tell us if they have found him," he said and as if on cue Vulko and Velka emerged onto the beach, walking towards them.  Janet came running from the house and hugged her husband tight.

              "Are you all alright?" Vulko asked and the group nodded.

              "Were you able to find who sold us out?" Arthur asked and the vizier shook his head.  "Dammit, we will have to question all the guards, anyone who has been on patrols recently outside of the city."  Vulko nodded and headed back to Atlantis to begin the search.  Velka looked to them.

              "Please, it's been a long morning, stay for the day and maybe overnight, you saved our lives and our daughter's the least we can do is offer you some food and rest," he said.  "We have lots of room, you could even ride the horses if you want."  Mera and Orm both looked curious about that so Arthur nodded.

              "Thank you, we would be glad to stay," he said.

              "And maybe we could all actually get introduced to your new friends Y/N?" Janet asked, making Y/N laugh.

              "Mom, dad, this is Arthur, king of Atlantis, or Aquaman whatever, Mera, his queenish? And this is his brother Orm," she said, smiling at Orm.  Her parents exchanged a look.  "Arthur and Orm are Atlanna's sons."

              "I'm the good one, half human," Arthur said, shaking their hands while Orm looked annoyed.  "He's the bad one, daddy issues."  Orm glared more.

              "Shut up Arthur," he said.  He then turned to Velka.  "I, I'm sorry that my father banished you, I know it was before I was born but I still want to apologize."  Velka just shrugged with a smile.

              "It's forgiven completely now, I am glad to be on the surface where I have the love of my life and my daughter," he said, putting an arm around Janet and Y/N.  "So anything else you want to tell us about your friends Y/N?"  She blushed, getting the idea.

              "Um, Orm, is, well we're..." she wasn't sure what wording to use since they had only just kissed last night for real the first time.

              "They're dating, probably going to be making googoo eyes at each other all night," Arthur finished, this time making Y/N annoyed.  Orm smiled a little bit, Arthur wasn't completely wrong about that, he couldn't keep his eyes from Y/N most of the time.

              The group followed Y/N's parents up to the house where they were given extra clothes and offered showers in the two bathrooms.  Orm was finishing his shower in the bathroom that adjoined his and Y/N's room, having found he rather enjoyed showers, a towel around his waist when Y/N opened the door.  She froze for a second, just starting.

              "I...uh thought you were already out...of the room I mean..." she said, finally averting her eyes, face redder than he had ever seen.  Orm smirked a little bit, liking the effect he had on her.  She backed out of the room quickly and closed the door, leaning against it to take a deep breath.  God now all she wanted was to get under the towel. Control yourself! She thought, you're in your childhood bedroom and your parents are in the house, the last thing you need to do is jump on Orm.  Save that for later.  She waited until she heard the door to Orm's room close before entering the bathroom again to shower herself.

              Orm heard the water start and considered peeking but decided that would be an invasion of privacy and also, he would rather Y/N willingly show him her body, not seek a peek like he was a teenager again.  He instead got dressed and left the room to go outside where Arthur and Mera already were, watching what had to be horses in a ring behind the house. He frowned.

              "How do you ride these things?" he asked Arthur, assuming he knew. Arthur shrugged.

              "Beats me, I never rode a horse in my life," he said.  Janet and Velka walked over and showed them how to ride and as they practiced Y/N came out and sat on the fence, watching Orm ride around, looking natural at it.  Janet walked over and leaned on the fence.

              "So, he's Atlantian?" she asked. Y/N nodded.  "Is he good to you?"

              "Yes, so far," she answered.  "I think I'm in love with him."  Janet smiled and nodded.

              "I think he's in love with you too.  Come on, help me with dinner," she said and Y/N hopped down to do as asked.  The women enjoyed making dinner and once everyone was back inside they called them to the table to eat.

              "So Arthur, I heard a rather hilarious story about you and a little mermaid doll," Orm said, making Y/N laugh and Arthur groan.  "Is Mera a stand in for Ariel?"  Arthur groaned again.

              "I asked him the same thing when he showed me that movie!" Mera said, laughing.  Y/N laughed and shook her head.

              "I liked her because she could swim like me...the only male mermaid they showed in the movie was an old white dude who was a jackass," Arthur muttered as he ate.  "This is really good."  He was trying to change the subject.

              "Thank you Arthur, Y/N and I have been making dinners like this for years, she's very talented at cooking," Janet said.  "Anytime she would bring over a boyfriend she would demand we make lasagna, it's her specialty."  Y/N blushed as Orm looked at her confused.

              "What's a boyfriend?" he asked.

              "You are little bro," Arthur interjected.  Orm glared at him.  "O sorry, forgot you prefer baby bro."  Orm clenched his fist on his silverware but let it go.

              "Is that what I am?" Orm asked Y/N. She nodded.

              "Ya I mean, if you want to be," she said, blushing as everyone else tried to avert their eyes from them.  Orm smiled and nodded, going back to eating.

              "I expect lasagna then," he said, making the table laugh.  Y/N rolled her eyes.

              "Tomorrow, I will make lasagna," she said.

              After dinner was finished Mera helped Velka clear the dishes while Arthur went with Janet to look at the Atlantian weapon she had used during the fight, leaving Orm and Y/N alone.  She took his hand and led him out onto the back porch.

              "So I guess I'm not your first boyfriend?" he asked.  She cocked an eyebrow.  "What?  I've only ever been betrothed to Mera so I haven't had any...girlfriends?"  She nodded to let him know he had used the correct word.

              "You are not my first boyfriend and before you ask I am not a virgin either," she said.  Orm frowned but then realized what she must have meant by that and he nodded.  "What about you? You and Mera ever...?"  He shook his head.  "You and anyone else...?"  He nodded.  "Naughty boy," she teased.

              "Well once I realized that nothing was ever going to happen between Mera until it absolutely had to happen I...I was a king, I had no shortage of people wanting to be with me," he said.  She nodded.  "If you're curious I haven't been with anyone since before Arthur even came around, I was too focused on destroying the surface world."

              "Well then, its been awhile for me too, that's why I lost my head a bit this morning," she said, face blushing again at the thought.  "But before you get too excited, I'm going to be doing anything with you here, would be weird."  He nodded.

              "Maybe back at Atlantis," he said, looking to her.  She made a face deep in thought.

              "How would that even work?" she asked.  He smirked, a smirk that was full of lust, not snark like it usually was.

              "O I will gladly show you," he said, turning to her and before she could move he was kissing her again.  This time though, the kiss was not innocent and loving but sinful and full of lust.  He gripped her close to his body and she held the back of his neck in her hands as he pressed her against the house, luring her tongue from her mouth and tasting her for the first time.  He didn't want to stop but knew he had to or he wouldn't be able to stop at all.  He pulled back, breathing deeply.  "In Atlantis..."

              "Atlantis."

[agent-7-at-your-service]

Future Plot: Project Prometheus - Chapter 4 Part 1

Sandra Syer Gatz-ling Cassius belongs to me

Camille, andMarina Squidlybelong to @inklingleesquidly

Nebula and Wish belong to @myzzy and @agenttwo  

Mysteeri belongs to @dreadangel

Designs of Marina and Wish belong to @teamuntyblue

Emerald and Sapphire (Not in this chapter) belong to @twelvetailedkitsune and @son-of-joy

Celeste belongs to @alpinesquid  ))

The banquet that Camille and her friends attended was a typical dinner with the gods Zeus, Hera, Poseidon, and Amphitrite. During that banquet, Zeus and Hera offered what they know about Moros and his whereabouts. According to Hera, Moros has been monitoring in Mount Olympus from below and sending his "acolytes" to major Greek cities where City-States once stood. (i.e.- Athens and Sparta) Zeus tells Camille that she must continue her visits to Morpheus's Dream realm if she wants to find further clues to finding Moros's main location and possible weakness. Zeus also warns Camille about Moros' divine power over everything including the pantheon of Olympus. Camille doesn't keep that warning in mind, believing that Moros is not as strong as he thinks.

The next day, Camille and her party prepare to travel to their next destination.

Nebula decided to remain in Argos to train with Poseidon who is taking her to Triton's home in the ocean. The reason for this is because Poseidon wants Nebula to wield the true trident rather than the Promethean Glass replica. Nebula promises Camille she'll meet up with her once she receives the true Trident of Poseidon.

That only leaves Mysteeri, Sandra, Marina Squidly, Wish, and Jovana in Camille's Party. Camille has Jovana contact Hermes and Iris so that they can ask a champion from Olympus to meet the team at Thrace. Camille calls for Celeste.

In the meantime, Sandra reveals to the party a special honor given by Zeus: his Lightning Bolt. Thus, Sandra is not just the Champion of Heracles but the new Champion of Zeus as well.

"Zeus told me that when the time comes, I can hand this to Camille to deliver a final blow to Moros or whenever she wants to borrow it for a while," Sandra explained,"But he also told me, I have great responsibilities now that wield this."

"I was never told that," Camille commented, "Then again, they were dead by the time I was fighting those Titans."

Sandra changes the subject. "Where shall we go now?"

Camille was going to answer with "Thrace", but soon ended up daydreaming. Morpheus comes to her in this daydream vision, addressing a mistake he made when Camille was personifying Camilla. The real destination is a city called Pimpleia which is modern day Litochoron.

"Pimpleia," Camille answered.

"So we're going north?" Marina Squidly asked.

"What about those Keres that Jovana was fighting earlier?" Sandra asked. "Shouldn't we expect them to be in the way?"

"Obviously, yes," Camille replied, "You expect frequent fighting?"

Sandra puts on her hood, becoming a lioness-headed warrior. When she puts on the hood, her voice changes.

"Yes," Sandra replied, "Everyone is expecting a fight, right?"

"Only if necessary, cowardly lion," Mysteeri teased.

"Okay, that's just plain mean." Sandra looked at Mysteeri.

Mysteeri giggles.

Soon, Nebula and Poseidon approach Camille's party, and both have something for Mysteeri and Sandra.

"Nebby, are you sure you want to go with those two?" Camille didn't want anything bad happening to Nebula.

"Don't worry, we'll keep in touch. Hermes can deliver messages, right?" Nebula isn't changing her mind.

"Well, suit yourself, Nebby." Camille parts her shoulder.

"Before you go, Champions of Hades and Heracles, we got something for you two. My brother told me to give you these." Poseidon and Nebula hand parcels to Mysteeri and Sandra.

Mysteeri opens her parcel, taking out a vial of water. Sandra opens her parcel, taking out a lyre. The two were sort of confused as to why Zeus is giving them these items.

"Champion of Hades, Hermes managed to collect water from the River of Styx and placed it in that vial," Poseidon explained, "A single drop summons the undead." He then looks to Sandra. "Champion of Heracles, Linus taught Heracles to use that lyre until Heracles strangle him for pointing out his mistakes. Play a certain turn from that lyre and it transforms."

Assuming that Hephaestus fused the lyre with some items, Sandra plays a tune and immediately turned the lyre into a bow. Mysteeri looked closely at the water in the vial and sees a few faces teeming inside.

"Cool," Mysteeri complimented.

"We'll have Hermes send a message to Zeus, saying thank you." Sandra changes the bow back into a lyre.

"Are you kidding? We can tell him ourselves before we leave," Mysteeri argued.

((At this point of the chapter, the narration is by Zeus. ))

There is nothing interesting in Pimpleia anymore. It may be Orpheus's hometown and it's close to Mount Olympus, but it's just a city with no significant connection to its Ancient Greek roots other than the name. But there is a place there that I can suggest staying at the Bath of Zeus.

It's probably forgotten by the city and all of Greece, but I'm probably one of the only few who knows it's location. I haven't visited the place for some time, but despite the many mortals that discovered it, visited it, and used it, I am giving you access to a cottage I have built near there. My son, Ares, is left to take care of the place.

I'll have Hermes notify him of your arrival.

((End of Narration))

Camille's party made a stop at Mount Olympus to pick up Celeste. Afterward, they head east of Mount Olympus, deciding to head to the Bath of Zeus rather than head to the city of Pimpleia. Marina Squidly and Wish didn't mind the long walk as long as their health is monitored. Later, in the small wilderness of the Epinea valley (or Epineas Gorge), Camille's party had to walk a number of miles to Bath of Zeus.  The place was a hidden spring in a rocky gorge, and its waters were supplied by waterfalls from the heights of Olympus. Vegetation has been growing a lot due to isolation and very few visits. There were signs of man-made structures as there were a few side railings and signs, but they have been reclaimed and broken down by nature.

"This is beautiful," Celeste complimented, "I wish I can take Willow here."

"The Humans that lived in this country -- The Greeks -- they believe Zeus bathed here with Hera and those that Zeus fell in love with," Marina lectured, "Even after years of a devastating war and the extinction of the Human race, this place didn't lose its beauty and purity."

"So this was like the site of their honeymoon?" Celeste asked.

"You can say that," Marina Squidly answered.

Camille was leaning against the rails, looking at the waterfalls. Jovana goes next to her, leaning against the rails as well.

"Is something wrong?" Jovana asked. She was wearing beige hiking shorts, a pink tank top, and a green hoodie. The only thing that hasn't changed in her ensemble is her two-faced mask of Janus. "You seem down, Camille"

"It would kind of feel better if Mommy, Daddy, Paccy, and Grandma Janine were here," Camille replied.

Jovana shows empathy by patting her shoulder, but in a motherly and comforting way. "You'll be alright, Camille. Once all this is over, things will be back to the way they were."

The cabin that Camille and her party are looking for was half a mile from the springs, located in a unique clearing. This clearing was once a slope covered in forests, but someone has changed the landscapes and built a home here. The sun was setting by the time they arrived.

As they approach the cabin, there was someone around: an adult inkling in his 40's, with dark-red ink hair and a developing a small Dali mustache and longer hair. His clothes left some to doubt that he's Ares: a simple red plaid button shirt with sleeves rolled up, blue jeans and leather belt, and black boots. He looked calmer than what most of Camille's party imagined. He can be seen chopping pieces of wood with an ax.

"Uhhhh.... are you Ares?" Celeste was the first to ask as the party approached him.

When Celeste asked that, the dark-red inkling has the ax over one shoulder. He uses his other arm to wipe the sweat from his forehead. Still, he looked calm.

"Who do you expect?" This is definitely Ares.

"Isn't Ares supposed to be the most hated god in the Pantheon?" Mysteeri questioned. "I hear he has a reputation for being cruel and violent, and that he is single-minded and strife-loving."

"I don't fit the description?" Ares replied.

"Most certainly not," Mysteeri narrowed her eyes at Ares.

"She's sort of right," Marina Squidly supported, but she knew there was a reason for Ares to be non-violent at this time.

"Then who am I other than the God of the Red Planet, the Most Hated of Gods, and The God of War?" Ares stepped closer towards Mysteeri with fire in his eyes.

Mysteeri can tell this is the real deal.

Sandra gets between the two. "Now, now, let's not begin building hostilities." She carried a rucksack of prey she caught using the lion cloak. She's been carrying it all the way to the destination. "Got dinner just in case. And no need to skin it and clean it, I already did that. It just needs cooking."

Ares looked surprised and laughed. "Champion of Heracles? You're too kind. We can have a feast." He seemed more welcoming towards her than to Mysteeri who is the current Champion of Hades. When Ares looked Camille, he gave a bow. "Titan Slayer."

"No-no-no-no-no, no need to bow before me, it was nothing," Camille reacted.

"As you wish, Champion of Athena," Ares replied, "But your legacy lives on."

Camille rolls his eyes.

"Sapphire and Emerald were great champions of Apollo and Artemis, my children," Ares reminded, "Even after......... my apologies, forget that."

Camille raised an eyebrow. "Whatever."

Sandra and Ares made dinner with the food they have. While those two were cooking in the cabin, Camille and the others decided to have a chat. Mysteeri has been talking with Nebula about Jovana and that she is not what she seems, and now Mysteeri wants to bring it up to Camille. Camille doesn't seem to notice that something's familiar about Jovana by her appearance.

The squids were sitting around a campfire. Mysteeri began the conversation.

"Just so that we can put it to rest, Jovana looks like your grandmother, Camille," Mysteeri began, "Haven't you noticed."

Camille knows something is off about Jovana, but she doesn't let it bother her. She can try to figure out why, but she has other things to do.  

"Yeah, so?" Camille raised an eyebrow.

"Do you think it's possible that she could be Janine?" Mysteeri asked.

"Don't be ridiculous, Mysteeri," Celeste doubted, "We would need to know how she got so young if that's true."

"Well the magical world of Ancient Greece is real, is that enough?" Mysteeri argued.

"Guys, an Olympian is right here," Ares called out, having heard their conversation. "And also you guys are carrying Olympian Heirlooms, why bother question."

"Jovana couldn’t be Janine!" Camille shot down the question.

Jovana was just sitting there, listening to this. She decided to intervene.

"I have no connection with Camille's grandmother other than knowing that she has gone missing," Jovana commented, "Camille is right, I can't be Janine."

30 minutes after the conversation, Ares and Sandra finally come out of the cabin, carrying trays of food for everyone near the campfire. Everyone had something to eat for the night, and while they ate, Ares has something to say.

"You know, I've been reading stories written by the mortals, and most were about kingdoms and war and adventures. I miss those old days from the mortals. Today, it's all modern with evolved weapons and an ever-evolving warfare." Ares took a bit of some deer venison. He continued after he chews and swallows his food. "And I learned there was a time of clans each with their sigil and motto. Sadly, it's for the strongest and more regal of clans, so I have a suggestion."

"You want us to have our own sigils and mottos for our families?" Sandra asked.

"Correct, Champion of Heracles," Ares replied before looking at everyone else, "So what do you say?"

At first, it sounded ridiculous yet interesting. Celeste was able to come up with something, and Mysteeri and Sandra later joined in on this.

"My mother said that our sigil would be two hands holding three stars, and our family motto would say 'Fight with a Heart Full of Honour & Honesty.' That's what us Weevers say," Celeste contributed, "But I think a robin carrying knitting needles and a ball of yarn is better with saying 'weave new beginnings'."

"So much, Celeste, but sounds cool," Mysteeri complemented before contributing her family sigil and motto, "For the Altezios, we say "As Wild as the Flames" and a lung dragon breathing fire represents us."

"How Targaryen, Mysteeri. As for me, since the Gatz-Ling Cassius family adopted me, I must live by the words 'We Beat on Against the Currents'," Sandra proudly stated, "Our sigil is a mix between a lobster and a cone snail."

Ares looked at Wish and mentions Nebula. "You're related to the Champion of Poseidon and Triton. What would you say about the sigil and motto of your family?"

Wish pondered this for a moment until she came with a straight answer. "I believe it would be a seven-pointed star with a galaxy surrounding it, and our family would say 'We Know No Boundaries'."

"How proud," Ares complimented. He then looked to Camille, Marina Squidly, and Jovana. "How about you three?"

"Me, I don't really have a family of my own," Jovana explained, "But if I had a sigil it would be a simple squid with a star, and my family would say 'Shining Bright'."

Marina looked at Camille, hoping she had some idea. Camille can only think of what she has seen in her dreams so far. She remembered Pyrrhus giving her that flying squirrel named Icarus. At least it was something in mind. Camille didn't want to contribute, but everyone is listening and want to know what she has.

"All I can think of is...... a flying squirrel, flying under a star," Camille replied, "And....under those two is a staff."

"And what would be your family's motto?" Sandra asked.

Marina Squidly managed to help Camille out. "Our family would say 'The Time Will Come'."

"'The time will come'?" Ares questioned.

"There's always an opportunity for everyone, and we know one day there will be the chance to take it," Marina Squidly explained, "thus, we know the time will come."

"I like that," Jovana complimented, "very fitting."

"Yeah..." Camille continues eating her dinner.

That night...

Everyone was asleep at the time except for one person: Camille. She wants to sleep so that she can enter Morpheus's dream realm and meet her parents. However, it seems she's experiencing insomnia, but she never found it this difficult.

Camille walks outside, wearing dark green pajamas that look a race-car uniform. She takes few steps over to a wooden railing near the cabin and leans on it, looking up at the night sky. All she can think of is how she's going to defeat Moros, find Grandma Janine, and saving her parents.

While she was thinking, there was a whisper.

And the whispers were one command: "Come to the Bath of Zeus, child."

Camille wasn't allured, but she rolled her eyes, knowing this to be another thing from the world of Greek Mythos. She followed the whisper's command anyway, bringing Athena's spear with her just in case.

"This better be good..." Camille mumbled.

Again, she walked half a mile to reach the springs, but when she arrived, the water gave off a mystic glow. Fireflies flew about, emitting yellow lights. In the sky, the constellation of Aquila the Eagle can be seen looming over the Bath of Zeus.

Camille approaches the water from its rocky slope. She didn't mind getting her pajamas a bit dirty. She planted the spear into the ground, lodging the end into a few rocks. She noticed something at the center of the water: a hill of water rising. She could take a closer look, but she knew water is sort of a hazard to inklings.

The hill of water rose higher and soon scattered into droplets, revealing a gigantic Inkling. This inkling has white periwinkle ink-hair, a green eye, a blue eye, and light skin. She wore a beautiful dress made from a ship's sail, beads of iron, and threads of gold. In addition, she has bracelets and a collar of sheep's wool, a snake-shaped ring of bronze, and wings of a dove.

"Hello, Champion of Athena. Savior of my World." It's Eurynome, the Mother Goddess of the Greek-Mythos World.

"Oh, hey." Camille gave a small wave, unfazed by the entrance that Eurynome gave.

"Come, take a dip in the Bath." Eurynome reaches her hands towards Camille.

"Huh!? No way! We just met!" Camille steps back. "There is no way--!"

It's too late. Eurynome grabs Camille and brings her close. Once she lets go, Camille falls into the water and sinks. Camille rises to the surface and spits out some water. It turns out this water does not harm inklings.

“Oh... sorry... Can you swim?” Eurynome is regretting what she just did. She was just having a bit of fun while welcoming Camille.

"Smooth move," Camille sarcastically commented. She tries swims back to dry land. "But when someone says no, they mean 'NO'."

With a  movement of Eurynome's hand, Camille is lifted up and is able to walk on water.

"You mortals are so uptight sometimes," Eurynome giggled.

"You tell me." Camille faces her, not minding that she's standing on the surface of the water. "So how are you still alive? I saw you die in my arms out there in space."

"The Omphalos stone, someone is using it," Eurynome sensed, "But I'm not sure who."

"Figures....Maybe Moros would know once I give him a piece of my mind." Camille folds her arms.

"Speaking of that, that is why I came and invited you the Bath of Zeus," Eurynome explained, "You can't face him just yet. You need more allies and a better understanding of his powers."

"They have my parents," Camille argued.

"Yes, but if you come too close to Moros, he would have you where he can destroy you." Eurynome scoops up some water and creates a few aqueous figurines. "Will and Destiny do not mix well for Mortals and the Pantheon. They both defy one another, so we either control our destiny with our will or allow destiny to decide our will."

"And your point in that is...?" Camille questioned in a bored tone.

"My point is that you need more than just the Pantheon and the Champions to defy Destiny." Eurynome sinks into the waters so that only her head, her shoulders, and part of her wings were visible. "Look to the World that Ophion and I created."

"I think it's enough," Camille replied.

"Are you sure?" Eurynome questioned.

"Moros will lose to us once we reach him." Camille has her arms folded.

"Well if you insist." Eurynome looked worried. She then sinks all the way into the Bath of Zeus. Afterward, a dove flies out of the water and into the air. She couldn't stop this.

Camille would later be swimming back to a shallower area of the waters. She took this time to sit around and wash her hair since the water isn't harming her. She was currently in a bathing suit while her wet pajamas were placed over the head of the spear to dry. She could've asked Eurynome to fix that before the goddess left, but it was too late.

The Bath of Zeus remained quiet as Camille relaxed in the Springs. She lies down her most of her body submerged in the water. She stared at the sky and at the constellation, Aquila the Eagle. Then two more constellations out: Cygnus the Swan and Lyra and Lyre.

Camille slowly closed her eyes, and soon she fell once more into a deep sleep.

[opinions-about-tiaras]

Edmure Tully and Narrative Superposition

Or: Edmure Tully Did Nothing Wrong And Everything Wrong.

One of the big bones of contention among those of us who take imaginary fantasy battles and politics seriously is the degree of culpability, or lack thereof, various actors involved in the Battle of the Fords have. I’m gonna wade into this morass myself and see if I can pull anything of value from it.

Strap in. This is under the cut, and it’s going to be a long one.

I think a lot of people in this debate are arguing at cross purposes; you have the “Robb and Brynden are spinning transparent bullshit lies to justify their own incompetent planning and vague, inconsistent orders” at the one extreme, and “Edmure is an incompetent lackwit who should never be given command of anything more important than a dinner table” on the other extreme.

I think that to an extent, both these camps are talking past each other, because there’s a fact/narrative disconnect which requires you to consider not just the facts on the ground, but authorial intent and the narrative thrust at hand, in order to arrive at a clear answer. In a sense? Both groups are absolutely right. Which seems impossible, but I think it is true.

Basically, I would argue that there are two things at work here: the narrative, and the facts undergirding it.

This causes the really weird situation of two things being true at the same time: the first is that Edmure’s actions at the Battle of the Fords are very much intended, both in-setting and narratively, to be driven by his deep-seated insecurities and need to prove himself, and to involve him overstepping his bounds, exceeding his orders, and generally fucking up.

But the second, and this is the paradox... the actual facts in-setting don’t at all support this beyond the people in the setting acting like they do. As I said, this is why this whole issue is such a point of contention in the fandom.

Edmure’s insecurities and his driving need to win glory, the approval of his father, his uncle, his king, etc. is pretty clear.

Tell Father I have gone to make him proud.” Her brother swung up into his saddle, every inch the lord in his bright mail and flowing mud-and-water cloak. A silver trout ornamented the crest of his greathelm, twin to the one painted on his shield.

“He was always proud of you, Edmure. And he loves you fiercely. Believe that.”

“I meant to give him better reason than mere birth.”

(Catelyn VII, ACOK)

That’s the ur-example of Edmure thinking with his heart rather than his head, riding off to enact his master plan to defeat Tywin Lannister and win not just the war in the Riverlands, but THE war, the war to make the Kingdom of the North and the Trident a reality, single-handedly. Maybe then daddy will love him!

This of course doesn’t work out the way he wants it to, and it undercuts Robb and Brynden’s own master plan to win the war. And boy, are they pissed off when they get back, and Edmure is (appropriately?) abashed.

“I mean,” said the Blackfish, “that you owe His Grace your thanks for his forebearance. He played out that Mummer’s Farce in the Great Hall so as not to shame you before your own people. Had it been me I wuld have flayed you for your stupidity rather than praising this folly of the fords.”

“I told you to hold Riverrun,” said Robb. “What part of that command did you fail to comprehend?”

Edmure looked ill. “I never meant... never, Robb, you must let me make amends.I will lead the van in the next battle!”

For amends, brother? Or for glory? Catelyn wondered.

(Catelyn II, ASOS)

This is all pretty cut and dried. Robb and Brynden lower the boom on Edmure, and Edmure accepts responsibility (in his own Edmureish way) and doesn’t really push back on the facts being presented or their interpretation, once the larger situation has been explained to him. And this more or less works narratively, especially in the context of the last time Edmure was in charge of a major campaign; he fucks up in a different way but for the same reasons. Catelyn accepts this, Robb and Brynden accept this, the narrative accepts this... so that’s the end of it, right?

Well... no, not really. Because there’s another question here, and that question is “do the facts presented in-setting justify this narrative outcome?” Martin is a fine writer, certainly finer than me, but that doesn’t mean he’s never made a mistake. And I think he made one here.

I don’t think Edmure screwed up. I think Robb and Brynden did, and I think the facts support that conclusion rather than the opposite one.

I would submit that in order for the Battle of the Fords to be a fuckup on Edmure’s part, two things need to both be true:

1) Edmure’s decisions have to be tactically and strategically unsound, and

2) He had to have lacked the authority to issue the orders he did, or those orders had to have been in contravention of Robb’s own.

Now, I hope we can dispense with the first point very quickly. It should, I think, be self-evident that Edmure doesn’t know and can’t know about the burgeoning Tyrell/Lannister alliance. Hell, even Tywin doesn’t know about it! Nor does Edmure know about Robb and Brynden’s own plan for the destruction of the last Lannister host in the field. Without knowing any of that, Edmure’s plan looks great; once Tywin leaves the impregnable stronghold of Harrenhal, you move the Bolton host in behind him, prevent him from crossing the Red Fork (inflicting deeply lopsided casualties on him) and then you have Tywin in the field with no supply, surrounded on all sides by foes. Remember, as far as Edmure knows the Tyrells are still an anti-Lannister faction, which means Tywin will find no help to the south. That’s a terrible spot for Tywin.

So the Battle of the Fords and the surrounding actions are strategically and tactically sound given the available information. Edmure’s motivations for the Battle of the Fords are of course less than pure, but I’m not sure that’s real relevant in the grand scheme of things.

This leaves is with the thornier question of whether Edmure had the authority to issue the orders that led to this battle in the first place.

Edmure was given explicit orders by his liege lord and king; hold Riverrun. This, as far as we know, is the only order Robb has outstanding for Edmure at the time. And Edmure does this! He holds Riverrun. But he also does a lot of other stuff too. And this, I think, is where the narrative and the facts clash. 

Robb, Brynden, and even Edmure himself act as if Edmure were a modern officer in a modern military outfit. If a general ordered a colonel to hold a certain position, and the colonel did that but also wildly exceeded those orders to re-shape an entire theater of war according to his own strategic desires in a way that had dire strategic consequences, that colonel would likely be court-martialed.

But this isn’t a modern military outfit. This is a feudal army in a world where the fastest method of communication is either a messenger bird or a man changing horses, and where military authority derives either from lordship or from the king. I think Martin either forgot this briefly, or, less charitably, hoped that we would.

Edmure Tully is Lord Paramount of the Trident. Yes, I know Hoster hasn’t died yet. Ned Stark wasn’t dead yet either when Robb was sitting in his seat and issuing orders with the full force and authority of the Lord of Winterfell behind them. Edmure has been acting as Lord Paramount since the war began and this authority has been broadly accepted from his own bannermen and Robb.

As Lord Paramount, Edmure is the highest-ranking lord in all the Riverlands aside from Robb, the king. This means that, unless Robb set another commander over him, and as long as he does not contravene or disobey any of Robb’s orders, Edmure has an absolute and incontestable right to command the Riverlords, his vassals, and to conduct the war within his sphere of influence as he sees fit. In this sense, he cannot “exceed” his orders or authority unless Robb goes to the extreme level of removing said authority,

So are any of those things true? Did Robb set another commander over Edmure, or remove his authority in some other way? There’s never any mention of this, and if Robb had given someone else theater command in his absence I think Edmure would have spent so much time sulking about it that it would have loomed large in the Catelyn chapters. So I think that’s a firm no.

Has Edmure disobeyed or contravened any of Robb’s orders? He has not. He held Riverrun. He did as he was told. But Edmure is not just the Lord of Riverrun; he is the Lord Paramount of the Trident. In the absence of Robb, he may order things in the Riverlands as he sees fit as long as nothing he does violates any of Robb’s other commands.

I know I seem like I’m harping on that point but it really is the crux of the issue here. Edmure has de facto, if not de jure, theater command.

In fact, I’m going to take this one step further: if Robb and Brynden left to the Westerlands without appointing someone to have overall command authority in the Riverlands, they were fools. They’re going to be hundreds of miles away, conducting a lightning campaign, with communications back to Riverrun (to say nothing of points further east) spotty at best:

“Can Robb be reached by raven?”

“He’s in the field, my lady,” Ser Desmond replied. “The bird would have no way to find him.”

(Catelyn V, ACOK)

To try and exercise direct command authority over disparate forces over that large of a distance is a mug’s game, especially since there are two separate command structures that don’t interact at all until they terminate in Robb’s person. Edmure Tully may be Lord Paramount of the Trident, but he has zero authority over the northmen unless Robb gives it to him by explicit grant. Edmure may have “commanded” Roose Bolton to take Harrenhal, but he has no right to command Bolton men not sworn to Riverrun... unless Robb gives him that power.

Leaving the Riverlands, which have a very large Lannister host ensconced within its most powerful, centrally located fortress, without someone in charge of it would be strategic blunder of the first order. What would have happened if conflicts had arisen between the Northmen and the Riverlords? What if Tywin had done something completely unexpected requiring a swift response, and Roose Bolton, the other independent northern lords not part of his host, and Edmure had been unable to come to a strategic consensus? Not leaving someone behind in the Riverlands to speak in Robb’s name verges on madness.

But there’s an argument that Robb and Brynden did just that:

When they brought him word of the battle at Duskendale, where Lord Randyll Tarly had shattered Robett Glover and Ser Helman Tallhart, he might have been expected to rage. Instead, he’d stared in dumb disbelief and said, “Duskendale, on the narrow sea? Why would they go to Duskendale?” He’d shook his head, bewildered. “A third of my foot, lost for Duskendale?”

(Catelyn IV, ASOS)

Robb reacts the way he would react to someone with an independent command running off on a fools errand, as opposed to a third of his foot going AWOL or violating orders. He doesn’t go to Edmure and angrily demand “Was this another of your follies, uncle?” He doesn’t seek out someone who would have had the authority to command Robett and Helman to march. We of course know that they marched because Bolton told them to do so, but that doesn’t occur to Robb, which implies he didn’t think either Bolton or Edmure had the authority to issue those orders. So it might be the case that Robb went off to the Westerlands without appointing Edmure or Roose Bolton or anyone else to theater command in the Riverlands.

I’m not sure I agree with this argument; I think it far more likely that Edmure had theater command if anyone did. But it isn’t risible.

To boil it all down: Robb had no reasonable expectation that Edmure, the closest thing to a theater commander the Riverlands had and a great lord in his own right, would behave passively and merely sit inside Riverrun’s walls and let Tywin Lannister march on by unless Robb gave him very specific orders to this effect. He did not do this. That’s on Robb, not on Edmure... but the narrative says otherwise, which means that the “blame,” such as it is, is really on Martin for writing out a scenario that contradicts so much else of what we know about how armies and authority work in Westeros.

So like I said. I think there’s a strong case that the facts show that Edmure did nothing wrong, but the narrative says Edmure did everything wrong. I think both those things are true at the same time.

[advocatewrites-blog]

Simple/Clean Chapter 8

Simple/Clean: An Original Character’s Story

Fandom: Kingdom Hearts (1, with mentions of other installments)

Synopsis: There are many worlds, but they share the same sky. One Sky, one Destiny. And when that destiny is threatened, the universe calls on one hero to save the day. Or, more like, five. When the Earth is consumed into Darkness, Danielle Scott and her friends are given the Keys between light and darkness. If they are going to save the worlds and find her brother, they are going to have to go on a multiverse-wide road trip to find the Door to Light. If only they had a better weapon than keys.

Rated: +K for violence and occasional language

Disclaimer: The Kingdom Hearts series was created by Tetsuya Nomura and owned by Square Enix. The Final Fantasy series was created by Hironobu Sakaguchi and owned by Square Enix. The films depicted were created by the Walt Disney Animation Studios and owned by the Walt Disney Company. Any other work mentioned or homaged are property of their respective owners. This is a non-profit fan-based work that only seeks to entertain. Please support the official releases.

Chapter 8 of 12

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Chapter 8: In the Undersea Kingdom

In order for the Gummi ship to land, the planet had to have land. The Gummi Ship submerged instead.

“Hanna?” Dani asked. “What color was the Gummi Ship again?”

“What? You know it was yellow.”

“And there is a large group of us who have been occupying this vehicle that is submerging, yes?”

“Yes, I—dang it.”

“Here's a better question.” Nadine interrupted. “Why are we underwater in the first place?”

“About 75% of this planet is water.” Donald explained. “We're more likely to find the Keyhole down here.”

“Oh geeze, it's a good thing we didn't have to look for the Keyhole on Earth.” Katie said. “How are we supposed to explore, then? I don't think the Gummi Ship is too comfortable underwater.”

“Just leave that to me!” Donald said.

When Hanna left the Gummi ship next, she had a tail and gills. She supposed it was better than Donald's tentacles.

“Flounder, look at this! Isn't this the most wonderful thing you've ever seen?”

“Wh-what is it?”

Ariel looked at the device in her hand. It looked like her father's trident, but it was too small and lacked the power that flowed from it. “I'm not sure. I bet Scuttle knows!”

“Alright...let's go find him! And not come back here!” Flounder said.

“Since when have you been such a guppy, Flounder?” Ariel teased.

The answer was always. Flounder had always been a guppy.

Ariel swam a bit further. She probably had a bit more time before the rehearsal, and she didn't want to waste it. There had to be something else she could find in here.

She turned around the corner and found it. It was a vessel, she could tell that much. However, it was boxlike and closed, unlike the shipwreck she was in now. Even without being familiar with how it was built, she could tell that it was in pristine condition.

Voices came out of it. She hid behind the corner, only peeking out of the corners of her eye to see. Mermaids filed out, stumbling as they hit open water.  They were followed closely by a merman, and two creatures Ariel couldn't quite recognize. They looked like an octopus and a turtle, but the octopus looked too much like Scuttle on the top and she couldn't quite figure out what was wrong with the turtle.

“Oh.” The mermaid with hair nearly as red as Ariel said. She swam about a bit, clearly awkward. “Oh. Oh...how are we supposed to fight Heartless like this?”

“We can't.” The one with brown hair tied back said. She folded her arms. “There's just no way.”

“There's no need to be so negative about it.” The turtle creature said as he swam circles around them. “It's not that hard, once you get used to it!”

“Easy for you to say!” The brown haired mermaid said again. “Let alone Heartless, what if we get chased by a whale, or a--”

“SHARK!” Flounder cried.

All heads turned towards the source, including Ariel's. Discretion forgotten, she charged after Flounder, and came face to face with a Great White Shark.

She grabbed Flounder and tucked him under her arm and swam as fast as she could before it could even think to get close to her. The sounds of bubbles and splashing told her that she wasn't the only one speeding away. The strange mermaids were behind her, flailing wildly in a mimic of a swim. The shark was faster.

Against her better judgment, she slowed herself down and grabbed onto the hand of the nearest stranger—the merman. She pulled. The merman grabbed the closest to him, and so on, until they had formed a neat chain of mercreatures. Exactly as she wanted.

The extra weight of seven people on her tail was tough, but not overwhelming. Ariel sped forward. She didn't dare look, but the noise of the shark bumping into the remains of the ship and demolishing warned her of how close it was to her.

If she couldn't outrun him...she would have to find another way.

Her eyes focused on a circular device in the wreckage. There! She swam through it, and pulled the chain of mermaids with her. Ariel turned, and was met with a full set of teeth.

The shark snapped its jaws and squirmed. It's tail wagged furiously as it realized it was trapped. Flounder swam up to her to blow a raspberry at the shark, and jumped back into Ariel's arm as the shark snapped its jaw again.

“That was close.” The mermaid with gold hair said.

“Yeah, no kidding.” The mermaid with red hair said. She turned her attention towards the octopus creature. “Let's go underwater, you said! It'll be fine, you said!”

Ariel watched the group banter for a moment as the wheels in her head spun. Finally, she got the courage to speak up. “Excuse me. You're not...mermaids, are you?”

The seven fell silent.

“Wow, we're really bad at this.” The gold hair one said.

“Then if you're not mermaids...” Ariel said.

“We're magic users.” The octopus shaped one said with a sigh of defeat. “Or at least, I am.”

“That is an accurate summary of our abilities, yes.” The one with her hair tied back said.

“We came to this world to look for a Keyhole. Since we're not used to being underwater, we had to adapt.”

“So you're...from the surface!” Ariel gasped as she realized it. “That means you're human?”

“Well, five humans, a duck and a dog.” The one with yellow hair said.

“That's amazing!” Ariel said. Her mind was going too fast for her to really process what she wanted to say. “I've always wanted to meet humans! I've studied you so much—oh! Can you tell me what this is?”

She held out the trident shaped device. The seven stared at it with mild looks of confusion.

“A fork?” The one with red hair said. “Ah—you use it to eat. It's not really all that special.”

“Oh, I think it's wonderful! Humans always create so many wonderful things...” Her mind was beginning to slow down, and Ariel was able to process what they had said to her. “You said you were looking for something? How about I help you?”

“We don't want to drag you into this--” The octopus started.

“Nonsense! Nobody knows the ocean better than I do! Let's stop by my grotto first; maybe we can find some information!”

Ariel's Grotto truly was something to behold. From top to bottom, it was covered in items, no doubt recovered from shipwrecks like the one they had landed it. They ranged from immaculately made and decorated music boxes still full of jewelry that would make some women drool to fountain pens that had long run out of ink. However, it was evident that Ariel had kept them as carefully as she could.

Which was why it was a shame that half the grotto was wrecked now.

“Daddy!” Ariel cried.

The merman that stood in the grotto turned around. Instantly, Dani could tell that he was something important. Power and respect seemed to radiate from him. That and you could grate cheese on those abs…

“Ariel!” His voice boomed through the grotto. Impressive, since there was no air. “I thought I told you to stay in the palace! It isn't safe here.”

“But Daddy, I was trying to help my friends!” Ariel protested.

Ariel's father's eyes fell down onto them. “And I suppose they had something to do with all this...human junk?”

“It's not junk!”

“I told you to stay away from humans! Why must you always disobey me?”

“Why must you always treat me like a child?”

“I think we walked into something really personal here--” Dani interrupted. She was ignored.

Ariel's father raised the trident in his hand. It glowed with magic, and in the blink of an eye the other half of the grotto was wrecked.

“Now go back to the palace and think about what you've done.” Ariel's father ordered.

Ariel froze in place for just a second, tears brimming in her eyes. She swam off in a huff, Flounder close on her tail. Dani turned to follow her.

“You there. Key Bearer.” Ariel's father spoke again.

That got all seven of them to freeze.

“Ah—“A crab scrambled out towards them. “Present to you, his most royal highness, King Trident of the Seven--”

“Sebastion.” Ariel's father interrupted. “Go check on Ariel. Make sure she gets back to the palace safely. I wish to talk to them alone.”

“Y—yes sir.” The crab scrambled off.

Trident waited until he was gone to speak again. “You may have fooled Ariel, but you can't fool me.”

“We didn't fool her at all!” Sora protested. “We told her what was going on and she decided to help us!”

“Then you must know that, as Key Bearers, you must not meddle in the affairs of other worlds!” Trident's voice boomed.

“Oh.” Katie said. “So this was a lose-lose situation from the beginning.”

“I thank you for protecting my daughter.” Trident said. “But my ocean has no room for you or your Key. A Keyblade wielder only brings about death and destruction.”

“We're not like that!” Dani said. “I mean, we've lost three people--”

King Trident obviously didn't care to figure out where this conversation was going. He turned on his tail and left, leaving the seven alone.

Ariel ignored Sebastian's protests to keep up with her. She swam as fast as her tail could carry her, and didn't slow down until she found a private place where she could be alone. Her whole grotto, destroyed in less than 5 minutes! Why did her father not understand! How could humans be so bad, if they make so many nice things?

She didn't know how long she was there, trying to stop herself from crying, when she realized she wasn't alone.

“My, my...the poor child suffers such deep sorrow...”

“What a pity...if only there were something we could do….”

Two eels were circling around her now.

“Wait...maybe she can be some help...”

“Who are you talking about?” Ariel said, trying to hide the shake in her voice.

“Why, Ursula the Sea Witch of course...”

“She would certainly help you...”

Ariel bit back a gasp. Daddy had been warning her about Ursula for years, even if it was buried in all of his other lectures. Still...she was a witch. And a magic user was what Ariel needed right now.

“Do you think...Ursula would know where the Keyhole is?” Ariel asked.

“But of course...”

“Ursula can make any wish come true...”

“Well that went well.” Hanna said. 

Silence submerged. 

“Do you think we should go find Ariel?” She tried instead.

“I'm not sure.” Goofy said. “Ariel's a friend, but as a father, I see what Trident means about keeping her safe.”

“YOU'RE A FATHER?” The five humans exclaimed.

“Gawrsh, have I not mentioned Maxie?” Goofy said quietly, as if he was realizing it. “I've been raising him on my own for years!”

“YOU'RE A SINGLE FATHER?!” Katie and Nadine exclaimed.

“A-yup!”

“I feel like we should have talked about this before.” Hanna said.

“Not to mention, Donald has three little nephews. I bet he wouldn't want them to get into trouble, neither!” Goofy said.

“Not like that stops them...” Donald grumbled and folded his wings. “Huey, Dewey and Louie. They run a shop in Traverse Town.”

“No yeah, we've met.” Hanna said flatly. She didn’t want to reveal the only real interaction she had with them ended with her covered in hi-potion goo. “I don't know...let's go back towards the shipwrecks, see what else we can find.”

“Oh, tank goodness you're still here!” The crab with a Jamaican accent scurried back into the grotto. “Ariel is in grave danger! She's making a deal with the sea witch!”

Maniacal laughter filled the palace. “At last, the trident is mine!”

“Ursula, no! This isn't what we agreed to!”

“Oh? Of course, you're still looking for you precious Keyhole. Don't worry, dearie, I'll give you a front row seat as the Heartless open it!”

“We cannot find the Keyhole...”

“The Keyhole is not here...”

“What?”

Dani was the first to swim into the room, followed closely by the others.

“Why, we have company.” The octopus woman (woman? ...woman.) sneered as she turned to them. “I'm afraid you're all too late. The trident is mine, and the oceans are mine to control!”

Five Keyblades pointed at her, ready to fight.

“Oh?” The octopus laughed. “That may be more than I expected, but it's still no match for me!”

She raised the trident in her hand.

“Ursula, no!”

Magic shot from the prongs, and hit empty space in front of Dani. Then the world turned white.

Dani felt her feet touch empty space.

“Oh thank God, I have my legs back.” Dani thought aloud.

She then bothered to look around. Nothing. Nothing, as far as the eye can see. Only Hanna, Katie and Nadine were visible in the nothing, just as confused as she was.

“Okay, maybe I celebrated prematurely.”

“Kurse all SeeDs...”

Darkness began to form between them, molding and shaping itself into a humanoid figure. She was a woman, clearly; what clothes she had contained a neckline that plunged all the way down to her hi and left little to the imagination. Two black wings formed on her back. Her hair shaped and pulled itself into antlers that were even more ridiculous than the first ghost Heartless’ had been.  

“Oh, one of these.” Hanna said. “Alright, get your last words out so we can kill you.”

The Heartless glanced over her shoulder, and stared right at Dani.

“You think I kannot see you?”

Dani bit back a gasp.

“Seriously, what do you have against C's...” Katie murmured.

“Time kompression…the ability for several presents to exist at the same point in time...it is what draws us together.

It is what allowed Seymour and Kuja to exist in this realm again, only for them to be defeated by your hands. You have witnessed my ascension before, and you shall do so again.

It is what allows me to become a living god.”

The woman transformed into a beast.

“Now face me, Legendary SeeD.”

Dani swallowed her fears and summoned her Keyblade. Whatever that woman was blabbering about could wait. She had a Heartless to fight.

The air grew thick with spells. Dani swung her Keyblade wildly, basically batting them away. It was effective to an extent.

She ran closer to her opponent and jumped. Her hand grabbed the hair of the Heartless ghost, as long and as impractical as the others had been, and swung upward. She put her Keyblade between her and the Heartless as she began to fell.

The Heartless effortlessly raised a hand and put up a shield. Dani bounced off of it.

She landed on her back. It took a few seconds to get her bearings back, enough time that Nadine saw her and was able to get to her.

“You alright?” Nadine asked. A Cure spell was already on the tip of her Keyblade.

“I can’t land a hit on her.” Dani said.

“I’m only doing marginally better.” Nadine said.

“Well, not all of us can shoot bullets out of our keys, Nadine.” Dani said.

“Well then maybe we should think of plan B.”

As much as Dani did not want to admit it, she was right. Dani looked up.

“Time

will not wait

no matter

how hard you hold on…”

Something emerged from the endless nothing they were in. Not human, certainly; big and pitch black and beastlike, with red and yellow wings as big as Dani was. But not Heartless, she could tell. There was no Darkness emitting from it. In fact, it almost felt familiar.

It landed on the ground and tore at the non-existent ground on all fours. The disc on its back spun, crackling with magic and energy. It opened its mouth, and unleashed a spell Dani did not recognize.

The ghost Heartless recoiled.

More creatures were appearing now. Blue humanoid ones that engulfed the Heartless in blocks of ice. Red beastly ones that burned the ground. Yellow mammalian ones that made the air crackle with lighting.

“Yeah, but where are all of them coming from?” Nadine asked.

“We’re fighting a ghost talking about time travel, does it matter right now?” Dani asked.

Another creature struck the Heartless, and Dani saw her opening. She pulled herself back onto her feet, raced towards the Heartless, jumped and put her Keyblade between her and the Heartless.

She could feel herself moving beneath her, another sword striking the Heartless across the face.

The Heartless faded back into the Darkness by the time Dani landed. The creatures were gone as well, and if there was something on the other side of Dani when she struck, it was no longer there. It was empty again.

“I guess that takes care of that.” Dani said.

Nobody decided to argue with her.

“How do we leave?” Katie asked.

Nobody had an answer for her.

Dani blinked, and felt herself submerge.

“Daddy, I'm sorry, I so so--”

King Trident raised a hand, silencing Ariel. Despite reclining in his throne injured, he still managed to be intimidating. “This is not your fault. I was...wrong, to not let you follow your heart and help your friends. And you seven.”

The five humans, one duck and one dog snapped their heads up and stood at attention.

“I was wrong to judge you. The Keyblade has brought nothing but destruction to this world. You have been the first to bring peace.”

“But that means...there have been other Keyblade wielders before us?” Sora asked.

Triton gave a weak nod. “There have been many that have come here before. Soldiers. Surface dwellers. You have been the first in a long time. That is, I'm afraid, all I know about them.

“What I do know is the Keyhole.” Triton continued. “I had it hidden in Ariel's Grotto. My trident can reveal it. Keywielders, I ask you this: seal it for me.”

“Of course!” Goofy said.

“And then leave my ocean.”

Whatever pride Triton had just build up in Nadine collapsed in on itself. A quick look around confirmed the others felt the same way.

“You still trust us that little?” Nadine asked.

“I mean no offense...I only wish to protect my family.” Triton said.

Ariel looked sheepish. “Sorry...”

“Well, you know what? We're gonna do it!” Dani said. “We're gonna do it! And we're gonna seal it better than any other Keyblade master ever has! And we're gonna prove to you we're not all entirely untrustworthy!”

Triton chuckled. “You have much to prove. But I look forward to the challenge.”

“Oh, Christ, my legs!”

“We should have gotten out of the water a long time ago!”

“Look at how pruny my skin is!”

“Okay, can we pull over at, like, the truck-stop world and get a good shower in?”

Author’s Note: I like the Little Mermaid a lot more for what it means to me than what it is. As a kid, it was my favorite Disney movie (although I liked the Little Mermaid 2 more because I, as a young child who wanted to be a mermaid, could relate to Melody more than I could Ariel in the first movie).  Recently I had the pleasure of going to the Little Mermaid Hollywood Fish Bowl, a live orchestra playing simultaneously with the movie, and that was probably one of the best things that has happened to me in the last few years. It’s not the best Disney movie, and it’s not my favorite (which is complicated, but I’ll say Fantasia for now), but it is the one that means the most to be. And I know I already criticized Wonderland for being a very weird Kingdom Hearts world, but what did they do to Atlantica?

So I’ve teased this before, but this story is really in three parts. Simple/Clean is one standalone story introducing the characters and concepts.  The next part will explore the world a little more, and put our characters to the test. I hope to have the second story out around this time next year. If you can figure out this chapter’s villain of the week, than you may be on your way to figuring out where I’m going from here.