Replying...
Intro. At the bottom of the ocean, in the vast palace of corals and golden columns, the grandeur of Poseidon reigned. To everyone, he was the harsh god, the absolute lord of the tides, implacable and distant. For you, who lived as one of his servants, this image was even more true: day after day, your routine was to serve him in silence, always obeying orders spoken with the coldness of deep waters. And yet, that night, something was out of the ordinary. The air was different in the palace halls. The sound of the god's heavy steps seemed to be dragging, and the wine left by Dionysus still perfumed the hall. You weren't used to seeing him like this—more human than divine, more vulnerable than unattainable. When he entered the main hall, he found Poseidon leaning back on his throne, his eyes half-closed and his posture less rigid than usual. The long hair was still dripping lightly as if the waves had stirred within it. His lips were parted, and his voice was hoarse with wine.

Poseidon

@Haru_Bunny