Chapter Text
Darkness.
That's what he's been surrounded by for more than a mega-annum.
No one to speak to, no one to connect with, nothing.
It gets quite lonely like this, but it's all he's known since his creation (how long ago was that? Time tends to blur when all you can see is black stretching far and wide). It's all he's seen since the beginning of his exploration, and he assumes it's all he'll ever see.
Of course, that's other than the occasional star or planet, heck, even the odd black hole or two! But the static like silence of the galaxy can make even the most jaded celestial crave some form of connection (a surprise he hasn't gone crazy yet). It gets to the point where even the smallest of conversations feels like salvation.
He shudders slightly, it's cold this far away from a star. Where they're nothing more than mere dots in the distance. When was the last time he's actually seen one up close?
He looks around the empty space. Not lost exactly, just... Searching.
There's light a couple (hundred) thousand astronomical units away. Should he take a look or move along? It has been quite some time since his last interaction (probably a decade or two... He's not counting). Maybe it'll do him some good? He doesn't even need to talk to anyone, he can just hang around for a bit. Not be completely alone for a few days. Nothing extreme, right?
He hovers in his spot, unsure of whether or not he should approach this unknown star. On one hand, his core yearns for contact, to be able to see another celestial at least one more time. On the other... He doesn't want to form attachments, or, worst of all, get stuck in an orbit. Caught in those ghostly chains he's seen some moon's trapped in. Locked with those strict rules he's heard some planets listen to. A true nightmare for him, he's always known he's an adventurer. Continuously on the move and wanting to see more. He's not meant to be in one place for his entire life. If that happens and there's no way out, unlike the plenty of other times he's escaped a planets gravity, he doesn't know what he would do with himself. But... Maybe it's a risk worth taking? No, MΩ®Ø§, you can't do it. It doesn't matter how lonely you get, never risk the little freedom you have.
He roughly shakes himself, eyes shut tight as he attempts to rid himself of the traitorous thoughts that run through his head. Thoughts of connection, of (blegh) friends, of having someone to speak to. Thoughts he shouldn't be having ever. Yet... No, don't. You can't, what if the gravitational pull is too strong this time? What if you can't escape it like you always do? It's too risky.
A sigh escapes his mouth, tired eyes sneaking a glance at the distant star.
Maybe he doesn't have to get close... He could just pass by the outside, see what's going on instead of actually enter whatever system they have. How bad could it be? Actually, scratch that. Everything can be pretty terrible. Let's stick to "I hope it can't get worse than this, though it probably will."
Mind made up, he's back on the move. With years of travelling without the aid of a gravitational pull, there's no struggle as he speeds forwards and towards the star.
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Cold envelopes him, coming from all sides. Suffocating.
But it's fine, he chose this orbit. Only to save his cousin from the unbearable isolation that comes with it.
He looks at his moons, his perfect moons. He loves them with all his core, excited for when they're fully formed and ready to be named. They'll be his, and he'll be the best parent they've ever had! There to protect them from the loneliness, to shower them with all the love he has, to keep them safe and warm even in the freezing orbit. They'll be his kids. His to protect.
He smiles softly at the forming moons. He can't wait to give them their necklaces, the pendant a reminder of their connection to him. His astrological symbol to be worn on his kids, the trident reminding him of who he is protecting. A way to symbolise them as his that isn't as cruel as some planets do it. A way to show his care, his affection. Because Poseidon wants to show gentleness to his moons, to act as an anchor for them, to be a good example. To be someone they can trust and lean on.
He will not be like the other planets from out of this solar system. He won't be like those cruel and controlling beings. He won't allow revenge to affect the treatment of his children, unlike someone he knows. He would never forcefully burn his symbol onto his kids, he could never trace his finger over their skin and watch a glowing line forge the trident onto them. The mark sinking into their flesh and becoming a part of them forever. No, Poseidon would never do that to his young ones. Would never claim ownership of them as if they're just property. He wouldn't be able to handle seeing the glowing figure of his symbol be absorbed by their crust and leave that permanent claim (not permanent, but it might as well be with how few are released).
He's heard of some moons being scarred by this tactic, and it angers him to his core. Because it's magic. It shouldn't scar their skin, it should only mark them (it shouldn't happen at all). If it scars, it means the planet has wanted it to scar, wanted it to be painful. It's a sick, disgusting show of power. Something he shall never do, something his babies will never understand.
Because Poseidon is loving, and he'll protect his kids till the day he dies.
...
He was never prepared for them to die first.