Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

After everything, when the panic attacks recede and it feels like maybe things are normal again, Zolf goes swimming.

Not from the temple, he’d had enough of that: he’d stayed clear of any kind of organized religious association, hadn’t adressed a word to Poseidon. But his legs were still there and Zolf could still feel them immersed in the water. The god was still there, was still watching over him, and as angry as Zolf had been, as confused as he was, he couldn’t entirely deny his relationship with the deity.

And he’d missed the sea.

Zolf had been a good swimmer before he’d lost his first leg. He’d enjoyed fishing with a harpoon when the food got rare on the ship, and he would go for a dive from time to time when they got ashore. He hadn’t been good enough to learn again with a wooden leg, though, and that had been the end of it.

The legs help more than normal legs would, and at this point he probably shouldn't be surprised but, well, at least it's a pleasant surprise to realize he's going at least twice as fast in the water as he ever had.

It's freeing, feeling the cool cocoon close around him as he work his muscles gently, feeling every inch of his body, the tip of his fingers tingling as they scope as much water as they can and the muddled sensations his enchanted legs transmit to his brain. Tension sweeps out of him as he plunge deeper under the surface, the pressure all around him feeling like a tender embrace. He wishes he could have done this sooner, there's probably no better way to honor Poseidon than to abandon oneself to his native element.

He's been swimming around aimlessly for half an hour and is barely even starting to tire when he decides to challenge his new legs a bit more. He isn't ready to leave the water yet and there's a small island not too far he can probably reach without too much strain. So he takes the time to get his breath back under control and starts toward his goal.

He’s gliding in the water easily, his sea legs making it easy to propel himself smoothly and quickly, making him feel as if he completely belongs to the element.

One by one, he can feel all of his doubts, invasive, anxious thoughts being washed away by the water. He can feel his mind empty until there exist nothing but the burn in arms and the air trapped in his chest; no sound echo but the calm violence of the sea, a tomb of tranquility deep under and a never ending battle of the waves against the gravity over the surface. Zolf is only a body, gliding in the immensity, and for once, he feels light: free.

He’s about halfway to his goal and the water under him is a deep, dark pool of mystery. Zolf watches it as he moves, admiring the small banks of fish swirling together and the gentle dance of algae floating at the meeting point of two currents.

Then something moves. Zolf barely catches it at first, and thinks maybe his eyes are tricking him, but a moment later, the shape moves again, a darker shade of blue in the ocean.

It’s huge.

Bigger than a shark.

Bigger than anything should be in those relatively shallow waters.

And - a shiver moves through Zolf - it’s not alone. As he watches, he can see another shadow moving alongside the first one. There’s at least another one of those things. Maybe even two, if Zolf is unlucky enough for his eyes to be true to reality.

It’s okay, he tries to reason himself through the beating of his heart, most creatures of the sea don’t care about puny dwarves. With his weird, unnatural legs, he probably looks or smells nothing like prey. They have no reason to try and approach him.

He looks at the island he’d been heading for. It feels a lot farther away than it did a few moments ago.

It’s okay, he tries to tell himself, he just has to keep going. Surely the beasts below won’t care for such meagre prey. It’s okay, he repeats over and over again in his mind as he keeps swimming towards the island: he’ll soon be on land and he can panic once he’s there.

He doesn’t feel like he's moving nearly as fast as he did moments before, but he resolutely looks straight ahead and pushes his arms forwards and back, work through the pain in his muscles to keep going, to escape the ocean, to be safe again.

He has the time to think he’s going to make it, that the moment has passed, that he had nothing to fear after all.

And then, suddenly, the water sucks him in.

Zolf opens his eyes to a world of blues, and wants to cry. There are huge, swirling shapes around him, bigger than he’d even seen at first, and so dark Zolf can only see their contours against the blue expanse.

His first thought, of course, is to escape. To find the light of the surface and try to break it before those beasts can bring him back into the depth. But as he tries to move he’s met with a resistance. When he looks he sees nothing, but it feels like a pair of strong arms are keeping him in place, pinning him at the bottom of the ocean. He tries to struggle, of course, to free himself from the invisible grip, but one can only muster so much strength when engulfed in water, and his movements are too slow and sluggish to do anything. He tries to come up with any spell that would free him, but they all require a spoken word and he can already feel the water try to break the barrier of his mouth, eager to rush in and drown him.

Zolf has seen a lot of people drown; drowned his fair share himself.

It’s not a fate he wants for himself.

Calm down, child .

He tries to invoke the memories of his brother, the awkward pats from Sasha, Hamid’s smile… the wind in his hair… his heart is hammering and his lungs burn. Soon enough, his body will break under the pressure and force his mouth open, only to kill him in a last ditch attempt at life.

The water is my home. It won’t harm you.

The reflex kicks in and Zolf sends a final apology to his loved one as he feels his liquid death take him.

Only, it doesn’t.

Zolf opens his eyes in surprise when the water inside of him runs through his system like a fresh brise instead of a killing blow. He’s not breathing - that would require air - but he’s not drowning either, and his vision feels less blurry that it should be.

You silly child. Why would I kill what’s mine?

“Poseidon?” Water rushes from Zolf’s mouth, but no sound comes out.

I wouldn’t turn around if I were you. You’re still mortal after all.

A laugh like air bubbles disturbing the peace of the water enters Zolf’s ear, and he wants to squirm. The dark shapes are still circling him, getting ever so slowly closer as he watches.

There aren’t a lot of stories of mortals getting so close to a god and making it out alive. Zolf wouldn’t hold his breath for himself to be any luckier, even if he still could.

"What do you want?" He tries to say, with no more success than the first time.

Again, this laughter.

You never did learn manners, did you?

One of the dark shapes extends a limb. It’s long and large, and still so dark it might as well be made of pure shadows, and slowly closes around Zolf’s waist. There’s nothing he can do to stop it.

What do you think I want, Zolf?

The member around him engulfs him in a tight embrace and the brief he’d been wearing are shredded with the movement. He’s starting to wonder if Poseidon saved him only to have the pleasure to squeeze the life out of him.

I saved you.

He remembers: a warm wave pulling him up. He hadn’t wanted to be saved, hadn’t wanted to leave the corpses of his comrades rot alone at the bottom of the sea, but he’d been grateful, afterwards. Grateful for the touch of a god that had chosen to show him a life after death.

I made you mine.

Zolf gasps as much as he can when he feels other limbs touch him, take hold of his arms and hold them away from his body, putting him on display. Even his sea legs are kept apart without anything seeming to separate them from the general aquatic environment he is in, leaving him entirely unable to close what’s left of his tights.

“What are you doing?!”

You are mine. Poseidon’s words roar like a wave colliding with the shore. I made you, and you forgot that, Zolf!

The limbs around Zolf change for new ones. They’re not as huge and bulky as the first ones were, slithering around his body like a hundred eels. He can struggle against those no more than he could with the bigger one, but they feel closer to his body, their oily skin rubbing his in a way he would almost call intimate.

You are special Zolf. A mortal I was proud to call my own. One of the tentacles runs down his back slowly, the pressure against his spine making him shiver. But you keep questioning me. You keep pushing me away.

The tentacle goes all the way down, and just as Zolf is realizing what is happening, slips between his cheeks.

It’s time you remember who you belong to. Zolf tries to cry as he is slowly breached, but it is lost to the water invading his mouth. And this time, I’ll make sure you won’t forget.

Chapter Text

Zolf tries to yell against the intrusion, but the water muffles the sound, making him entirely helpless as the tentacle inside his ass wiggles deeper. The member stretches him, too gently to hurt him, but like an inevitable tide, an unstoppable force against his body, that he can’t hope to escape or avoid.

This way , the god behind him is saying, his voice like an undercurrent, you will never forget who you belong to, Zolf .

There’s a second tentacle probing at his ass, and Zolf can only expel more water as he feels it glide in, pushing the walls of his hole even further apart. The hands on his body - that he has to assume are Poseidon’s - roam his torso, tracing the lines of his scars gently, like a lover. He closes his eyes tightly, trying to ignore the sensations, but it only exacerbates them, and he gasps when the two tentacle inside him suddenly fuck in deeper, brushing his prostate.

I’ll make sure you remember this, Zolf. That you always remember you are mine and only mine.

Zolf’s eyes fly open when he feels other limbs start to touch him, brushing over nipples, wrapping themselves around his arms, slithering over his neck. The water around him is now filled with those appendages, shadowy tentacles that feel smooth and cool on his skin, lavishing attention over him. There’s one going straight for his face, and before Zolf can realize what’s happening and close his mouth, it surges forward and penetrates it, forcing his jaw wide open as it hits the back of his mouth and starts to slither down his throat.

This time, when Zolf’s body twist to try and escape the pressure, the bounds around his limbs allow him to move, but none of the tentacle lose their grip on him, and he can only writhes and try to bite the member invading his mouth as the one inside his ass wiggle deeper, putting unprecedented pressure in his prostate and drowning him in more pleasure that he can fully process.

You belong to the sea, Zolf. Every part of you . Poseidon’s voice is directly in his ear, like a whisper in a echo chamber, bouncing in his head and making him fell diy with it. As the deity speaks, Zolf feels something touch his cock and slowly curl around it, pumping him and making him arch his back.

Yet another tentacle enters him and he whines around the member lazily fucking his mouth as he feels it pushing against his already stuffed hole, forcing it wider, focring itself deeper and bringing the pressure on his prostate to almost unbearable levels.

The tentacle around his cock strokes him faster and faster, swirling around him in ways that send jolts to his brain as he's being fucked from all sides, in every way possible. Zolf tries to hold it it, to hold on to his dignity as he’s being violated by a literal god, but his orgasm slams him in the chest and he can only convulses in the hold of the dark, slimy limbs as he comes violently.

Everything seems muted for a second.

Then Poseidon makes a sound behind him and a wave crashes against Zolf with tremending strenght, pushing him flush against the deity's phantom's chest. It feels like it spans for miles, and rarely has Zolf felt so small and fragile; so... mortal.

Zolf, the way Poseidon pronounces his name - like he’s the one praying, like Zolf is the one being worshipped - makes him feel dizzy. In his daze, he can feel the tentacles in his ass retreating, leaving him feeling open and gaping for a rush of cold water to fill up the void they left behind. The one in his mouth leaves him as well, and suddenly he feels as though water is traveling through him freely, a cold, continuous circuit filling him up completely, a cold path he could retrace from his esophagus to his stomach, all the way to his anus. I made you a holder of destiny, I blessed you and made the water your cocoon. You belong to me!

The water around his hips solidifies around the phantom hands that have been holding onto him. In an instant they've become two large, shimmering limbs, looking like a pond full of ripples and reflects. Zolf barely has the time to be surprised or awed before they drag him backward and he is being impaled on a huge member.

He tries to cry out, but his scream, like everything else, is smothered by the blue ocean pushing at him from all directions. Poseidon is huge and smooth, and as he bottoms out it feels like solid water is forcing its way into Zolf, leaving the river traveling through his body seemingly undisturbed as the god starts to fuck him.

It comes and go like a wave, and despite the feeling of being split in two, the pain comes and recedes with it like the tide, leaving Zolf breathless but ultimately unhurt as he is being fucked by a literal god.

Poseidon passes a hand over his stomach, and Zolf looks down with terror to see the skin there distended and bulging, growing with the rhythm of the god thrusting into him.

You are mine, Zolf. I will claim you over and over until the weight of my mark on you is all your body can endure .

Zolf doesn’t know if somehow Poseidon can hear his whimpering through the water or if he’s simply able to feel him tremble in his hold, but he responds to it with a rumbling laugh like a puff of warm water in Zolf’s ears.

He just came and the press of the deity’s cock over his prostate is nearly painful, but still Zolf feels himself getting hard again. At first, it simply feels like his body’s valiant effort at riding the waves of too much endorphins being sent to his brain, but soon, the sensation starts to morph into something else. It feels like water - the water that has been coursing through him this whole time - is suddenly gathering up into his cock, pressing into each of every one of his most sensitive spots from the inside, and forcing him to get hard and burning him with oversensitivity. The more he tries to gasp and breathes in water, the worse the sensation gets, and everytime Poseidon thrusts back into him, inevitably connecting with his prostate, the shock goes through Zolf’s entire body, blinding him an instant with the unbearable mixture of pain and pleasure.

He can’t tell if the water he feels pressing against his eyelids are tears or if the sea has found yet another way of infiltrating him; of making him a simple toy - a simple vessel - for this extension of his god’s body. Nothing makes much sense anymore, in the delirious state his overworked brain is sent into: the water traps him a in world where gravity is but a concept, where down might as well be up, and the only thing he can anchor himself to is the same painful grip pleasure has on him, the same one that’s making the world a wobbly concept.

Poseidon is still talking, and Zolf can hear his voice rumbling inside his mind, echoing through his skull and taking hold of yet another part of him, but he cannot decipher any of the words, only perceiving the tone of them, roaring in his head like the crashing of a gigantic wave.

Zolf comes again, the orgasm ripping through him like a spear - much more pleasurable, but almost just as painful. And while the pleasure starts to ebb after a few seconds, the pain only gets renewed over and over again by Poseidon still thrusting hard and fast into him, until he can hear his own screaming despite the water muffling every sound but the soft chuckles of the deity behind him.

Don’t forget this is a punishment, my treasured. How else would you remember to stay faithful to me?

The weight behind him settles against his back, warm and all-encompassing, and one of the god’s shimmering hands travels to his chest. Poseidon is now completely encircling him, it feels, and Zolf feebly grips the oversized hand to center himself as he tries to ride the wave of painful overstimulation.

Don’t worry. I wouldn’t truly hurt my chosen one.

All the same, Poseidon doesn’t stop, and Zolf can feel his throat getting sore as he tries to battle the waters to protest against the treatment. The deity wrings another painful orgasm from him before he even starts to quicken, the grip on Zolf’s body becoming almost painful as it hardens.

The sea itself seems to vibrate as Poseidon comes, a rush of cold spreading in Zolf’s body far deeper than any natural come should be able to. Zolf is hard again, and his whole body feels raw, like a battered bruise in and out. The water inside of him still runs in a violent current, a never ending cycle lighting his insides with a strange tingling feeling that is more than too much right now. Poseidon seems happy to stay inside of him as well. Even as it is softening, his cock feels as though it is splitting Zolf in half.

He’s exhausted. Poseidon has made his point.

Did I? If I’ve learned anything this past months, Zolf, is that I could hardly have picked someone more stubborn than you. I’d rather lavish you with gifts, but I gathered it wasn’t enough. It seems to me you needed a more personal approach.

The hand that Zolf is not currently gripping like a lifeline to his sanity runs up his side, a finger caressing his skin until it reaches his neck and buries itself in his hair.

Can I trust you to stay true to me, Zolf? To your destiny?

Fingers card through his hair, rubbing over his scalp in a motion almost soothing enough for Zolf to forget his burning body. He wants to say yes, to cave in to this god, his god.

Do you really?

He does, he really does.

Well, I suppose I have no choice but to have faith in you, my precious pearl . There’s a touch of humor, it seems, in Poseidon’s waterfall of a voice. Zolf opens his mouth to the cold current as he feels something wrap itself against his dick, tugging it painfully. He squirms into Poseidon’s grasp to try and escape the sensation, pleading the god to let him go, to stop this torture, but his captor is unrelenting, shushing him with gentle tones and whispered pet names.

Take my parting gift Zolf, and remember this,

It takes a while, a long, painful while of pleading with his god, of praying like he hasn’t in a long time, before Zolf arches into one more tortuous orgasm at his hands. It seems to be finally too much for his brain to handle, and he gratefully sinks into the darkness conquering his vision, only having the time to hear the end of Poseidon’s sentence before he is engulfed by the briny depths.

Zolf opens his eyes to a burning sky. He blinks, and the fire turns into a flaming sunset, coloring the horizon with gorgeous oranges and reds.

Zolf shivers and the sand beneath him shifts, abrasive on his still tender skin…

Zolf suddenly sits up, remembering all at once his encounter in the water. Inside of him, he can feel something, something like water sloshing in his stomach, like a cool current coursing through him and making him conscious of every part of his body. The sensation makes him shivers violently - part disgust, and part some kind of sick, twisted pleasure.

A mark, Poseidon had said, a claim.

Well if this is it, Zolf isn’t going to forget it, that’s for sure.

His legs are still there, still watery, impossible limbs. But they shimmer differently now, like they actually have any depth beyond the small circumference of his limbs. Apart from that, they feel fine, and Zolf isn’t quite sure he wants to hang out by the sea much longer.

As he tries to get up, though, he realizes he’s been holding something in his hand, his grip tight and almost painful.

Curious, he slowly opens his palm. Inside of it lays a shimmering pearl -very slightly tinged with a blue iridescence. Looking at it, he can hear the last words Poseidon had whispered into his ears again, resonating like the rushing sound of waves.

You’re mine

He doesn’t go for any other swims after that.