#indeepertidesif

Your mother was a siren, your father a human. Disconnected from the supernatural world, you grew up in sunny California with your parents teaching you how to juggle your secrets and the truth. Then, at thirteen, your mother died.

In Deeper Tides is a Disenchanted spin-off interactive fiction story that takes place on the sunny coast of California (and the oceans that surround it).

In the aftermath of losing your mother, your father encourages you to reconnect with the family she left behind. At 24, you finally take to the ocean, only to receive a chilly greeting in response.

As you struggle to get closer with your mother’s family and heritage, you get swept up in the aftermath of a whirlwind assassination plot. The leaders of your family’s pod are dead, and you’re stuck in the middle of an ages old rivalry that could tear the sea apart.

• Create your character. Customize gender (full customization, including trans MCs), pronouns, and appearance.

• Story based over stat based.

• Romance any of the eight romance options (details below, profiles coming soon).

• Decide how you cope with your family and pod, and choose which side (or none) in a centuries old rivalry.

Rune Flores, he/him or she/her, a siren. The heir of your family’s pod, whose parents were just assassinated.

Thorne Varela, he/him, a siren. A tailless siren, to be exact. The bastard son of an affluential woman, he might be an unexpected ally.

Llyr/Llyra Silvia, he/him or she/her, a siren. The young leader of the pod rivaling your family’s, incriminated in the plot to kill Rune’s parents.

Talya Silvia, she/her, a siren. The younger Silvia sibling, and by far the most dangerous of the two. She’ll protect her family at all costs.

Malak ‘Mal’ Faris, they/them, a siren. An elite guard tasked with protecting Rune in the aftermath of unrest following the assassination.

Aster/Astra Solis, he/him or she/her, a siren. The spy of the Silvia family accused of the murders and set for execution.

Yan Liang, he/him or she/her, a human. A marine biology major working down by the docks. They’ve seen more than they should’ve, and the consequences might be dire.

Thorne Varela, a tailless siren and heir of the Varela family. Despite his lack of fins, he’s still an incredibly strong swimmer.

It’s here! Be warned, there are tentacles 🐙

READ IT HERE!

(Generous excerpt below, but no real nsfw. The full story on Patreon is explicit, however.)

He glances up from where he lays his head in your lap, a small pout forming on his full lips, “You’re moving too much.”

“I’m sorry,” You say, lips quirking in a smile, “Is your pillow to active?”

“Yes, quite.” He confirms, practically rumbling in content as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, “Though I suppose I’ll allow it.”

“You’re so kind,” You say, running a hand through his long, damp hair.

You push the strands from his eyes and he leans into your touch eagerly. His eyes are bright as you brush a thumb over one prominent cheekbone, taking in the details of his face. You’ve never seen a cetos before him; he’s the last one, after all. Still, you think he’s more beautiful than any other being you’ve ever seen.

A tentacle rises from the water, a blue so deep it’s nearly black. It slides against your leg, silky smooth, and you bite back whatever noise threatens to escape. He glances up at you, curious.

“Is that okay?” He asks, brow furrowed.

“It’s fine,” You say, refraining to mention that it made goosebumps rise on your arms and chills go down your back.

“You shuddered,” He points out, refusing to let it go, “If…the tentacles make you uncomfortable, I can try legs again.”

“You’re holding it all wrong,” Thorne grasps your hands, his lips curled in amusement, “It’s not a sword.”

“I don’t even know how to use a sword,” You complain, “So that comparison is kind of useless.”

“Do you have any combat training at all?” He asks, his eyes roaming over your form.

You shrug, “I did karate for like a month in middle school.”

Thorne chuckles, “So that’s a no.”

The sound is rich and reverberates in your ears; you’d bottle it if you could. The you could hear it whenever you like.

You snap back into reality when he takes the trident back from you. Striding further onto the shore, he makes sure he has plenty of room in all directions before he begins. His footing is sure even on the shifting sand, and when he moves you can barely keep track of him. He twists and turns like the tide itself, the gold of his hair and trident both glinting in the sun.

He comes to an abrupt halt, thrusting the trident in your direction. It’s far enough away that there’s no chance of you being hurt, but close enough that you can see a bead of sweat slip down his forehead.

“Want to try?” He asks, not even breathless.

“Try that?” You look at him incredulously, “Not a chance. I’d fall on my face.”

“Not that,” Thorne stands up properly, rolling his eyes with an easy smile, “That was me showing off. No, I meant some basics.”

He twirls the trident in his hand, effortlessly catching it by one of the prongs and offering it to you by the shaft. You accept, hesitant, still unused to the weight of the cool metal in your hands.

Thorne comes behind you, warm hands shifting your grasp on the weapon and helping you aim. He rests his chin on his shoulder and, though you can’t see him, you’d bet money on his grinning like a fool.

“This is the part where you’d stab someone,” He whispers, his mouth far too close to your ear for your sanity.

“Are you offering?” You ask dryly, trying to hide any and all evidence of the way he affects you.

“Oh, no, no.” He tuts playfully, “I like to remain blissfully unstabbed, thank you.”

“We might change that before the day is over,” You mutter.

You can feel his body shake against yours as he laughs and your heart is beating furiously. He pulls away, and you turn to look at him.

“Now, do it without me.” He instructs, smirking, “I’ll see you competent with a weapon yet.”

“Why are you so insistent on it?” You ask as you try to recall how he’d positioned his hands.

“I’d like to keep you in one piece,” He quips, “Something you’ve made quite difficult to accomplish.”