#it is diverse and beautiful and vast and it’s so hard to keep trying

[wormsdyke]

i’m emotional and it’s 3am so i’m not going to write out the thing i wanted to say rn but i just wanted to tell you all that i saw them in concert tonight in tennessee and it was so so good. ela talked about how beautiful appalachia is and how much love there is here. then she sang queer love songs and queer heartbreak songs and queer revolution songs and i danced with strangers and i cried with strangers and we were all there and queer together. we’re still here. i can’t describe how incredible it was. trans women are everything. it was joyful.

give me a second and i’ll wax poetic about rainbow kitten surprise because hoooooly shit

[nunununuy]

Part 9

Part 8 Part 10

Prince x Fem Reader

Tittle: Changing the Fate of the Third Prince

You sat by the window in your family’s estate, the vast fields of green stretching far into the horizon. The soft golden light of the setting sun bathed the land in a peaceful glow, but inside, your heart felt anything but calm. It had been a few days since you’d returned home, leaving behind the bustling capital and the memories of him.

Rafael.

Even the sound of his name in your thoughts sent a pang of pain through your chest. You told yourself this was for the best—that you couldn’t keep hoping for something you knew would never be yours. He was a prince, destined for greatness, while you were just a marquis’ daughter. In your mind, the image of him with Princess Seraphina haunted you, her laughter and beauty fitting perfectly into his world.

You shook your head, forcing yourself to stop thinking about it. It had been days, and you still couldn’t get him out of your mind. “This is pathetic,” you muttered to yourself, gripping the edge of the windowsill. “He’s not thinking about me. He never was.”

To distract yourself, you threw yourself into anything that could keep your mind occupied. Your family’s estate was vast, and there was no shortage of work to be done.

In the mornings, you helped the house staff with chores, surprising them with your willingness to get your hands dirty. You told yourself that hard work would leave no room for thoughts of Rafael. When midday came, you spent hours in the fields, walking among the blooming flowers, the scents of lavender and wild roses calming your troubled heart.

But no matter how busy you kept yourself, the quiet nights were the hardest. When the world was still, your mind wandered back to him—his rare smiles, the way his sharp eyes softened when they looked at you, the warmth of his presence. Those memories clung to you like a shadow you couldn’t shake.

One evening, as you sat at the small desk in your room, you finally made a decision. You would not let your life revolve around someone who didn’t choose you. You had dreams and ambitions of your own, didn’t you? It was time to pursue them.

The next morning, you rose early, your resolve firm. You spoke to your father, expressing your desire to travel and expand your horizons. “I’ve spent too much time tied to the capital, Father,” you said, trying to sound confident. “I want to visit the southern provinces. Maybe help with the new trade routes. I want to see the world beyond the palace walls.”

Your father looked at you with a mix of surprise and concern. “Are you sure about this? The capital has always been your home.”

You nodded. “I’m sure. It’s time I build something for myself.”

And so, preparations began for your journey. You focused on the excitement of the unknown, convincing yourself that distance was the cure for your aching heart.

But even as you packed your belongings, folding dresses and tucking away keepsakes, a small part of you wondered: would he notice you were gone? Would he miss you?

You shook the thought away. It didn’t matter. This was your chance to move on, to reclaim your life. You were determined to leave Rafael and all the pain behind.

What you didn’t know was that miles away, in the capital, Rafael’s plans to bring you back were already in motion. His knights were ready. He would stop at nothing to have you by his side again. And no matter how far you ran, Rafael would find you. You were his.

---

The continent of Aurelis, where you resided, was vast and diverse, divided into four main regions: Eryndor, the northern region known for its snowy peaks and military might; Zantheria, the fertile heartland rich in trade and culture where the capital resided; Selvaris, the warm, coastal provinces to the south known for their bustling ports and exotic spices; and Draelan, the eastern desert expanse ruled by nomadic tribes. Each region had its own unique charm and resources, creating a delicate balance of power and economy across the land.

You had always lived in Zantheria, surrounded by the endless plains and noble politics of the heartland. However, your family’s business was expanding rapidly. The Marquisate of Linford, known for its luxury goods—fine silks, handcrafted jewelry, and rare spices—was opening new trade routes to Selvaris. The southern provinces held untapped opportunities, with booming markets and lucrative connections to overseas territories.

This was your chance to carve a new path for yourself. While you were officially traveling to oversee the opening of new trade outposts for your family, deep down, you knew it was more than that. It was an escape. An opportunity to leave behind the lingering ache of unspoken love and memories of the capital.

Your journey to Selvaris began just days after you decided to leave. The carriage was packed with essential supplies, led by a small retinue of guards hired by your family for protection. Though you tried to focus on the excitement of the unknown, your thoughts often drifted back to the capital—to the man you had left behind.

---

Meanwhile, back in the capital, Prince Raphael was consumed by a mix of emotions—anger, longing, and determination. The realization that you had left without a word still burned deep within him. The ball, which was supposed to mark the pinnacle of his success and his declaration of love for you, had instead left him hollow.

In the days following your departure, Raphael worked tirelessly. He coordinated with his knights, secured the emperor’s approval for his marriage proposal, and ensured that his mission to retrieve you would succeed. No one—not even you—would deny him what was rightfully his.

He spent hours studying maps of Aurelis, planning the fastest route to your family's estate. Through reports from his informants, he learned that you were heading south to Selvaris. This complicated his plans, as the journey to Selvaris was fraught with danger—bandits, treacherous terrain, and political unrest were common in the southern provinces. Yet, none of this deterred him.

Raphael's mind raced with memories of you: your gentle smile, your unwavering support during his struggles, and the way your presence soothed the storm within him. He clenched his fists, his resolve hardening. You had no right to leave him, to make decisions that excluded him from your life. He would remind you of your place—by his side, always.

---

As you crossed the borders into Selvaris, the scenery transformed. The rolling plains gave way to lush green hills, dotted with olive trees and vineyards. The warm breeze carried the scent of salt from the sea, a stark contrast to the cool, crisp air of Zantheria. The bustling port cities, with their vibrant markets and colorful stalls, brought a sense of excitement you hadn’t felt in weeks.

The new trade outpost you were overseeing was located in the heart of Vallora, a prosperous city that served as a hub for merchants and travelers alike. Your arrival was met with enthusiasm by your family’s representatives, who eagerly showed you the progress they had made.

Throwing yourself into work, you focused on expanding your family’s business. Days were spent meeting local merchants, negotiating deals, and ensuring the outpost ran smoothly. At night, you explored the city, marveling at its vibrant culture and lively streets. Slowly, you began to feel a sense of freedom—a life unshackled by the expectations of the capital.

Yet, no matter how hard you tried to move forward, the thought of Raphael lingered. Was he angry with you? Had he moved on? Did he even care that you had left?

---

Raphael, on the other hand, had never been more determined. Accompanied by a group of elite knights and a carriage bearing his family’s crest, he set out for Selvaris. The journey was long and grueling, but his desire to bring you back drove him forward.

As his entourage approached Vallora, the prince couldn’t help but smirk. The bustling city was alive with activity, yet all he could think about was how he would find you—and how you would finally understand that leaving him had been a mistake.

Soon, Raphael would reclaim what was his. And this time, he wouldn’t let you escape so easily.

___

[runningmiller]

Blooms

Summary:

You try to help Grillby appreciate the ocean.

Work Text:

He couldn’t enjoy the ocean. Many monsters couldn’t, not after living in an enclosed space for so long. Especially those from Underground cities, overpopulated, drowning with people. Unless they were marine incline, the view of the horizon meeting the sky, all that open space, it was overwhelming for many. For a few, even the open sky on its own was almost too much for the first few weeks of monsters surfacing, only feeling more confident with an overcast sky, or at night, when the stars give an illusion of a twinkling blanket. The night only made the ocean worse for most, emphasizing its vastness.

None of this is why Grillby can’t appreciate the ocean.

While he may enjoy the sun and sand as much as anyone else, he never bothered as much as a glance at the water. As a monster made of fire, he wasn’t fond of water. You’d found out the hard way that it wasn’t a threat to his well being after spilling a good buckets worth on him, sure it steamed and he sizzled, but it wasn’t going to kill him. After you’d calmed down, yelling apologies, and choking back tears thinking you had hurt him, it turned out he was fine. Being made of magic and not actual fire, water could do very little damage to him but felt very uncomfortable against his flames. You figure something like when you can feel your skin crawl, but on a much larger scale.

Mostly he seemed to ignore the ocean, after all there was nothing there for him. As far as he was concerned it was by far the least interesting part of the world. If he wanted to stare at water and feel his flames shudder, he’d do dishes the human way.

All this you could understand, you’re sure anyone could but it seemed such a shame for him to miss out entirely on such a massive, diverse, and beautiful part of the world. There had to be something that he could get out of it.

Which is why you’ve dragged him out to a small patch of beach in the middle of the night.

“All right, now we just pick a place to sit, and wait.”

A little excited you carry on a bit closer to the waters edge, staring in the pitch, black sea, eyes searching. Your shadow moves in front of you, from one side to the other. You hadn’t brought your own light. Or you did, but he was alive. Grillby unfolded two seats and sat back. He watches your silhouette against the dark sea.

You know when it happens you won’t be able to miss it. Reminding yourself of this, you return to Grillby, his head turned up to the sky and you can’t blame him. Sure, you came here for the water and what’s to come, but you picked a good spot with no light pollution. You might as well both take advantage of that.

You keep your eyes on the stars as you thank you him, “Thanks for coming out here with me.”

He didn’t respond verbally, but the light from his body flickered in a way you knew meant he was acknowledging what you said, like most people humming or nodding. A lot of your communication is like this, him responding with body language, some similar to humans, other’s you had to figure out along the way, but you never minded his lack of words. He indulged you more than most, like following you somewhere he doesn’t particularly enjoy in the middle of the night with only ‘I want to show you something,’ as an explanation.

Staring at the galaxy above, you shiver, noticing how chilly it really is out here. Knowing it gets colder by the water, and colder at night you’d worn a thicker sweater tonight, but hadn’t considered that it would be 4 times, not just twice as cold as usual in the later summer season, as it gets closer to autumn.

You rub your arms before being draped in warmth. Not a coat or scarf, but Grillby’s arm around your shoulders, blanketing you faintly in his magic to keep you warm. In your startled state you don’t notice yourself slightly leaning towards him, quickly darting your eyes away to the water, not really seeing it. You hope he dismisses the blood in your face as just being warm. Or being chilly moments before. Whatever convinces him you’re not blushing from the gesture.

“…Beautiful.”

You did not squeak, the only witness would never tell a soul any different, so it didn’t happen. You glance at him from the corner of your eye only to see him staring at the sea. Whipping your head around, it’s happening.

The waves lapping on the sand are glowing blue, not solidly, but shimmering, moving, and flowing with the water.

“Hoped it would be. It’s not magic though, it’s just algae. Still, it manages to be almost as bright as you.”

The fire flickers lightly on the back of his neck, the colour tinting a bit darker across his face. He’s been doing that more often lately, you hope it’s a good sign.

You don’t know how long you sit there together, watching the glowing waves. You’re proud you’re the one who managed to make him look twice at the water, the ocean has so much to offer.

“Waterfall glows like that.”

You turn your entire focus on him. he doesn’t speak freely often, so you listen the best you can when he does.

“It was a local favourite Underground. I only saw it a few times, the air was too damp for me.”

He looks to face you and you blame his magic for how you feel a few degrees warmer. The layers of flame shift to what you’ve come to know as him smiling, his eyes focused on you just as much you are on him.

You can’t help but smile, relived this turned out so well.

The first rays of light are bleeding over the horizon, barely any evidence of the algae left in the water, neither of you wanting to be the one to break the moment. You’re dozing off in your seat, surely the one to lose, you’ll have to admit defeat eventually and pack up before you fall asleep out here. He has more experience in patience than you, sure, but you got exactly what you were looking for tonight, so you can take this loss.

[altruistbloger]

Skiing Pow: The Ultimate Adventure for Powder Enthusiasts

Imagine gliding down a mountain, soft powdery snow swirling around you as you carve through pristine, untouched slopes. This is the dream of every skiing enthusiast, and it has a name: skiing pow.

"Skiing pow" refers to skiing on powder snow, a light, fluffy type of snow that falls during fresh snowstorms. It’s different from the compacted, groomed snow found at most ski resorts. Powder snow offers a unique and thrilling experience, making it highly sought after by adventurous skiers around the world.

What Makes Skiing Pow Special?

Skiing on powder is an entirely different experience compared to regular skiing. The lightness of the snow gives you a floating sensation, almost like surfing on a cloud. The lack of resistance allows for smoother and more fluid movements, making it both exhilarating and challenging.

For adrenaline junkies, nothing beats the rush of skiing through deep, untouched snow in remote locations. From steep mountain peaks to wide-open backcountry, the terrain for skiing pow is as diverse as the experience itself.

Where Can You Ski Pow?

Some of the best places to experience skiing pow include:

Japan's Hokkaido Region: Known for some of the fluffiest powder in the world, Hokkaido is a must-visit for skiing pow enthusiasts.

The Rocky Mountains, USA: Colorado, Utah, and Montana are famous for their incredible powder snow, offering breathtaking runs for all skill levels.

The Alps, Europe: With towering peaks and vast ski resorts, the European Alps offer endless opportunities to find fresh powder.

Tips for Skiing Pow

If you're new to skiing pow, here are a few tips to help you get started:

Lean Back: When skiing on powder, you’ll want to lean back slightly to avoid sinking into the snow.

Keep Your Skis Close Together: This helps you stay balanced and in control.

Use Wider Skis: Skis designed for powder are wider and provide better floatation, making the ride smoother.

The Thrill of Backcountry Skiing

For the ultimate skiing pow experience, many adventurers take to the backcountry, far from the crowded ski resorts. Backcountry skiing offers fresh, untouched snow and stunning natural landscapes. However, it requires more skill, preparation, and awareness of avalanche safety. Hiring a guide is highly recommended for first-timers looking to explore the backcountry.

Why Skiing Pow Is an Adventure Tourism Favorite

Skiing pow isn’t just about the sport; it's about immersing yourself in nature and the beauty of winter landscapes. It’s a journey into remote, wild places where you can escape the hustle of daily life and enjoy pure adventure. Whether you're an experienced skier or a beginner looking to try something new, skiing pow is an unforgettable experience that will leave you craving more.

So, if you’re planning your next adventure tourism trip, consider heading to a destination known for its powder snow. The rush of skiing pow will not only test your skills but also offer a sense of freedom and excitement that’s hard to find elsewhere.

[mickvalencia]

Dear Reader, so kind of you to show up!​

​Being Sunday, I decided to share a special piece that will be featured in one of our more narrative parts of the worldbuilding in the future. ​

This text will be part of "Detrayan Prism", which is a collection of stories from the world of Detrayan that will be constantly expanding, so we can keep showing the world from different angles, perspectives, eras and planes, with a focus on short stories and curiosities that don't quite have a good place in "Detrayan Colors" (Our beautiful color-coded manuals that you can find in the store) This is the "Myth of Creation" of our world, the story that we learn since we're kids about how the universe came to be, it is told among different cultures with slight variations, but the idea is the same: to understand how nothing can become something when you put your mind, time, and effort to make it a reality. I hope you like it, and if you have any questions or comments about it, you can always reach out to me on ko-fi, tumblr or twitter (I've been trying very hard with the last one, yet I'm kinda out of touch with the idea of it, still very fun!) Follow us for more updates on the progress of the DGS project, your feedback and interest fuels our spirit to keep working on it day by day, and you'll be proud to see the progress and say you were here from the start, when we barely even knew how to twitter the tweets and kofi the ko-fis.

​Big hugs, and enjoy the reading! (Reading time: Approximately 4 minutes) THE MYTH OF CREATION

As there's no clear source regarding the origin of our universe, to explain this phenomenon, we must delve into the legend of "Archex, The First," eternal creator and builder of the tower...

​ Archex the First

In the nonexistence, in the absolute void of reality and consciousness, in the plane where the true origin of the universe cannot yet be defined, Archex awoke. 

The fundamental concepts of life and nonexistence were mere ideas that he kept in his memory. 

As the first one on this plane, he searched within himself for thousands of years for answers on how to implement them in this unreality, which seemed like nothing more than a vast emptiness, free from any kind of constraints, limits, or, to be honest, anything at all.

Archex was a thinker, so he dedicated much time to pondering how to bring the existence of the universe to this point of reality, because my friend, nonexistence is a reality in on itself.

His greatest motivation came from a blur of memories he carried, the only thing he had brought with him to this plane.

Messages of diverse kind distributed within his memories, hinted that he didn't originally belong to this universe. 

In a plane where nonexistence is the general rule, how is it possible for one to have memories? Does the mind have consciousness and desires when there is absolute nothingness in front of it?

Where do all these emotions come from? What are emotions? What can I do with them? — He thought to himself.

Archex had countless conversations about these emotions with himself, and perhaps due to his solitude in existence, he began to use this dialogue as a way to grow and learn, much like you and I converse about his teachings every day.

As Archex started to contemplate all the things he could do in the vast loneliness of his life in nonexistence, he realized that there were certain challenges that would never solve by themselves.

Archex was Omnipotent. However, he wasn't Omniscient, so he didn't have all the knowledge of what had happened, what is happening, and what will happen. This made things confusing for him, to the point of not even knowing that he was our creator.

While still shaping these ideas, he began to feel the sorrow, an emotion that had never existed in our universe. This was the first step for Archex to understand the reason for his existence, the purpose behind his appearance in this empty plane.

Without warning, Archex heard an ethereal voice that seemed to come out of nowhere...

—"Have you thought about doing something here? Something different?"

—"Who are you? And what do you mean?" —Archex asked, surprised to hear someone else than himself after eons in the void.

—"I am no one yet, but it's likely that your own loneliness has manifested something of its own... I know I live in your head. I know I am connected to you, and your call for companionship is what brought me to this plane. 

I am your first creation, undefined and dependent on what you are or are not at this very moment in time. 

For now, I am company, so you don't have to feel sorrow anymore."

This conversation is known as "The Great First Revelation of Archex", which proved that our creator, from nothing, had been able to build something new in existence, no matter how minimal, even if this creation lived in the ether.

—"Should I give you a name?" — Archex asked the mysterious voice.

—"It's not the time yet. You must conceive your own identity, find out who you are, and what your purpose is in this world, Archex."

Upon hearing his name, a torrent of emotions erupted in the creator's consciousness, who had never heard his own word.

 Just like the dormant soldiers of Ashen Bay, who awaken from their slumber upon the mention of their word, the sense of identity pushed him toward awareness, what we now call "The Existence of the Creator."

—"Archex... Archex... Archex... That's who I am... and I've come to this plane as the bearer of life and existence !" — Archex's memories became more powerful as he reasoned with them. Other voices materialized with a plethora of ideas.

It was at that moment when Archex found his identity. A chorus of ideas sang in unison to him, all with different epiphanies and flashes of genius, separate from his own, giving advice on the paths to follow through the fog of nothingness.

This event was exhausting.  Archex had to live with thoughts that were not his own, trying to help, protect, and stimulate him to fulfill his mission. 

As the millenniums passed, and his identity grew, something changed. 

Archex had three epiphanies.

—"You are Archex... You are The Creator... You must build..."

Before he could think about these revelations, Archex underwent a physical change larger than any other existence process before him. It was at that moment that everything cleared up for his identity.

For the first time in this plane of absolute nonexistence, Archex managed to create a material element, the first great foundational stone of our universe.

A humble wooden chair.

—"I'll call this a... chair. I have no idea how it manifested here, but at least, this is progress," Archex thought to himself.

—"And what will we do with it? We don't exist, and we don't even know what it's for!" —one of the voices said defiantly.

—"Don't you understand? The fact that there is an element in nonexistence was the great paradox we were trying to solve!

 Finally, we have achieved an element with its own identity, and after this, if we find its purpose, we might reach outside the ether!"

—"Correction, Archex, you have to find the methods. We only live in your memory, we do our best to keep you company, and while I understand your reasoning, I see that you're not grasping the main concept behind this."

This voice caught Archex's attention, he realized it was the same voice that had spoken to him the first time.

—"I hadn't heard from you for a long time, but I think you have something important to say, which I will listen to when you decide to tell me what your name will be."

—"That's my point. How can you give me a name if you still don't have a real sense of your own? 

​You need to manifest yourself.

You need to find your identity. 

​Seeds will never grow if they are not planted."

—"Archex... You must find your physicality in this world of nonexistence." — Declared the chorus in agreement.

​After that, my friend, that's when the fourth epiphany came:

Archex is, Archex shouldn't not be, Archex must be something, something must be someone.

​This was the epiphany that gave Archex his sense of identity and form, making him an actual existing being. It was the moment when all his thoughts came together and became one. 

Archex felt as the chorus in his head unified and at the same time multiplied by millions, and those millions called for home.

As he regained his identity and self, memories became strong and vivid, his physical form began to rise from nothing, absorbing the nonexistence and making him the prime being in this plane and all those that would come afterward.

The unification left Archex at a level of absolute exhaustion. 

Creation from absolute nothingness was an impossibility, yet he achieved it, but the exhaustion was unbearable, manifesting the idea of a well deserved rest.  In all this nonexistence of landscapes filled with nothing as far as the eye could not see, he found his modest chair, just like the ones we are sitting on right now. 

And for the first time in his long and deconstructed life, he had a thought of his own.

—"I need to sit in that chair and rest for a moment." — And at that second, Archex took his first break in over a billion years, the same second when Detrayan came into existence, the moment the ethereal voice received its name. Mick

[uelden]

Vanity Fair interview translated

Just a side note before the actual translation; I don't know why, but instead of reporting the full questions and answers in full as she should, the journalist decided to report only summarized fragments of what Måneskin said and patch these fragments up into messy clusters. She also worded a couple phrases in a very confusing way (and yes, she's fully Italian). In short, she did quite a poor job, so the final shape of the interview is not that good. I didn't expect top-tier journalism from Vanity Fair but ffs. You'll see what I mean.

I translated it as it is, adding just a couple footnotes to give you insight on Italian pop culture references.

Translation under the cut

Måneskin: "Different from whom?"

by Lavinia Farnese, 09 June 2021

"True justice is being judged for what you do and not for what you are." The ones who are convinced of this are Damiano, Victoria, Ethan and Thomas who, by being the emblem of a generation that is finally free, refuse labels and conformism. In life, in love and on the stage. Where, maybe precisely because of this, they're winning everything

With the still unexpected (first place at Sanremo Festival) and the incredible (triumph at Eurovision) in their eyes, Måneskin are on the sofa of the house-studio they rented - to resume writing songs and rehearsing them - like you are after a won battle: lying in a calm and unreal silence, alert and a bit irreverent, happy.

In the garden there's the tennis table and the pool, the light of summer when it's starting and calming the country all around, and it filters inside from the large windows, and it goes onto the shining black of Ethan's hair, which blends with Thomas' eye shadow and the butterfly he has tattooed oh his naked forearm, which completes the picture of Victoria's golden crucifix hanging between neck and tank top and ends on the black nail polish of Damiano's stretched hands.

It's a human fresco, a Theatre of wrath [translator's note: "Teatro d'ira"] - to call it with the title of their latest album, a platinum record already - where their flaunted 20 years of age, their irregular femininity and virility are grown into proud and challenging custom, a pop glam rock generational manifesto of hard-earned liberties in a finally-unconditional expression of the self.

To watch them from any angle and from another age is to think that a great love will be born in those who'll understand: this new way of being in the world, the true and sovereign realm they hold where "diversity=exceptionality", the power of the artistic and cultural revolution of which they are healthy carriers in establishing in all lyrics and gestures the right to live according to one's own nature past the "people (who) talk, the people (who) unfortunately talk, and don't know what the fuck they're talking about." [tn: "Zitti e buoni" lyrics]

We go where we're afloat, where the air isn't gone. [tn: journalist's own variation on "Zitti e buoni" lyrics]

Miley Cyrus says hi – The numbers of a phenomenon

"The streams of Zitti e buoni are growing by the second, and they bring us above Muse, at the top of English charts, twelfth in the Spotify Global Chart. Followers almost tripled, in the post-Rotterdam period (from 1,4 to 3,3 millions, ed.) Contagious and universal folly: t-shirts and merchandising sold out in 10 minutes. Like the records, the tickets for a tour that keeps adding dates and expanding over geographic maps. They're contacting us even from some festivals were The Rolling Stones went." Thomas

"After the pretextual controversy over cocaine that France built against us, later disproven by my drug test, some graffiti popped up in Spain depicting me as a “No drugs” poster guy. Some tweets made us laugh: "Congratulations, Italy! I've never been more certain that four people have had sex with each other." Miley Cyrus started following us -You're great. -You guys are greater." Damiano

From the garage to the stars – Story of a flight

"It was only 2016, and we played in restaurants, in the streets, in via del Corso. Damiano without even a microphone, Thomas' guitar with wonky strings, Ethan was drumming on a cajón. During Rome highschools' sit-ins (Kennedy, Virgilio, Mamiani) we had our first confirmations and half-hours of celebrity, playing among those who criticized us and those who went "wow they're really cool." One of the rare times when they would have paid us – 50 euros each – we gave the money to the next band in the lineup so that they would make us play in their spot, later in the day, when there would have been more people. We had already realized how things worked. Visibility mattered more than money. And we still think that." Victoria

The intimacy of rock – Choice of a genre

"Music allows us the miracle of extending to others some very personal and private topics, sometimes even difficult and thorny ones. They are and they remain deeply your own, but at the same time they become a confession that reaches a wider audience, and in this passage that is alike a delivery, they find a place in you as well, a processing of them. You overcome them, you accept them. One second it's something aggressive, the next it's a ballad. Cathartic». Damiano

Against panic – The stage as therapy

"I've suffered a lot from anxiety and panic attacks, it's an issue I've worked on thanks to a psychotherapy course, my friends and my family. Playing helped me in not letting myself be paralyzed by my fears, not making myself limited in my private and professional life. I've learned to accept, to live with this side of myself. I don't hide it. I don't feel ashamed of it." Victoria

Analysis as necessity – Relying on someone saves you

"This belief that only madmen go to the psychologist is a widespread ignorance. No-one's born learned. [tn: common Italian saying] And it's often hard to understand the very reason why we're here, let alone the origin and direction of our desires. It's a long and legitimate journey towards lucidity, a kind of backing to become transparent." Damiano

Being out of our minds – But different from them [tn: "Zitti e buoni" lyrics]

"When you feel a strong passion towards something that is not a canonical job but an artistic language, that already puts you on a level of anomaly, which is not superior or inferior to other people, but it puts you in the position of the one who breaks the mold and also works at a loss, the one who sustains great risks while trying to do something that who knows if it will take you anywhere. "Why do it if it doesn't pay?". You want to give this dream of yours an aesthetic, but it becomes "You're dressing so weird! You must be gay!" - now that I'm 22 I laugh about it, but when I was 17 it had an effect on me, too." Damiano

The beauty of uniqueness – Of believing in it and defending it

"And I mean, at the end of the day if we're all different it's not because we want be alternative but because, really, no-one is the same. Justice is being judged on what you do and not what you are. Justice is equality, respect, beauty." Ethan

Fluid sexuality – Pride is freedom

"Heels for men that like themselves in them, kisses among ourselves, we have an open, extended mind, and we're proud of it. The horizons become vast, past the oppression of conservative families. With the information on the web knowledge becomes greater and with it the possibility that minorities will be less and less minorities, because the majority will be less of a majority. This way we'll make insults and bullying grow quieter. If social media get to a village of 50 souls and reveal to a girl who's afraid of the dark that someone has felt her same fear, then there's no reason to give a name to that fear, to mark it with labels which also limit and restrict. Definitions always had this effect on me. You shouldn't even consider the gender when judging someone, let alone their orientation." Victoria

Sexism – A culture to be dismantled

"Emma [tn: Emma Marrone, Italian singer] drops the bomb: “At Eurovision when I was there they massacred me for a pair of shorts, while they said nothing to Damiano – bare-chested and in heels.” The easy judgment against women is more fierce, constant, debasing (if I have a lot of sex I'm cool while Vic is a whore, where I show myself strong I'm a leader while Vic is despotic and a pain in the ass who reached success because she's hot.) As a male I'm privileged, the abuse I get is not comparable to those a woman has to live through, the comments over my aesthetic are centered only on my aesthetic and don't insinuate anything about my professionalism and my competence, while women are victims of this kind of thought in a systematic way. It happened though to find myself standing with a woman who while pulling me to herself to take a selfie, started licking my face out of the blue... I mean, what the hell do you want? Who asked you? Consent exists, and it's due." Damiano

Grow yourself – The only commandment

"To me conformism is the opposite of education [tn: could also mean "politeness"] and is the asphyxia of expression. I fortunately never endured heavy bullying, heavy enough for the the judgement of others to change me. But the mold of the small crumbs of bullying I got and of the kind of aggression that scars is the same. If I'm a kid who dances and likes dolls you have to let me do what I like. I was a kid who wanted to keep his hair long and played with Barbie. As a teen, my friends looked at my hair: " You have to find a girl with short hair to be at your side." My grandparents took away my dolls: "Stop it, they're not for you." Ethan

"When I was six I was already sick of them, the distinctions between masculine and feminine. I've always had strong ideas about how I wanted to be. I refused things that were typically defined as girly, and all around me they mocked me because I went skateboarding, I played soccer, I didn't wear skirts, I was giving myself the chance to be as I wished. I endured it a little, I suffered a little, but I had courage, and now thanks to that courage I know that I could have gotten even much more hurt, otherwise I would have left to others the most important choice: the one about myself." Victoria

Love in progress – Music, girlfriends

"I've been married to music for the last 20 years. I can't wait to celebrate our golden wedding anniversary." Ethan

"Everyone makes their own experiences, sometimes it goes well, sometimes it goes wrong, but it's always not anybody's business." Thomas

"When I first felt feelings and attraction towards a girl it was a bit disorienting because I had never had the courage of going beyond the limitations I had put for myself. For society being heterosexual is the norm and so you often define yourself in that way automatically, depriving yourself of the freedom to live many shades and faces of love. Once I overcame the initial insecurity of having to call into question my certainties I've lived my sexuality in a very natural and free way, as it should be for everyone." Victoria

"I had paparazzi at my door every day and night. So, after four years of relationship, I revealed her name. I still have paparazzi at my door every day and nigh, but at least I don't have to hide anything anymore." Damiano

The worth of the group – Phenomenology of protection

"The true engagement though, the true family is among ourselves, our band. We've believed in it since day zero, even before we called ourselves Måneskin (Moonlight in Danish), even before Ethan drew a giant moon on the flier for the first concert we ever did. We share everything, even the pain for the tragedy of Seid Visin, who committed suicide at 20 because of racism. [tn: I think the journalist asked them their opinion about Seid Visin's death, which was a current events topic in Italy, and then pasted it syntaxically in the middle of Thomas' answer, which was not a great move] A group is what we all should be: stay united and not back down an inch in the face of oppression that is generated by a distorted view of diversity." Thomas

I'm not of the right age – Like Gigliola [tn: Gigliola Cinquetti won Eurovision with her song "Non ho l'età", which means "I'm not of the right age"]

"Before you the only one who won both Sanremo and Eurovision on the same year was Cinquetti (1964). If there's anything I feel I'm not of the right age for? No, honestly no. Maybe having children. Regarding children I'll be honest: I'm not of the right age." Damiano

Having touched the sky – The fears that remain

"We're more than inside the dream, we're in the conquered dream. When you fly high there's the risk of plummeting and hurting yourself, but we'll work hard not to end up like Icarus, who burns his wings with the sun. Everything is in our hands. And this - a bit pretentiously - reassures us rather than scaring us." Damiano

[kenganparadise]

Raians s/o running around trying to provoke him but turns into Raian hunting down his s/o then turn nsfw

Oh boy this was SO much fun to write! I’m so sorry I couldn’t help myself with this fic. I hope I’ve quenched your thirst. I MAY HAVE OVERDID IT. I would really love some feedback on this fic! Thank you!

Warnings: outdoor sex, predator/prey, rough sex, Raian basically hunts down his S/O and fucks them senseless in the woods, AFAB reader.

🔞WARNING NSFW AND AFAB READER- IT GETS QUITE NASY🔞

Raian had some strange fetishes. You two have been dating for quite a while now. He was pretty open about them with you in your romantic relationship. He satisfied your desires and you satisfied his. You were surprised, Raian was quite good to you. Raian is an animal, he is a kure, but you’ve managed to have some sort of control over him. Surprising the rest of the Kure as well, You don’t really know how you did it yourself. They now acknowledge you as Raian’s mate. When the two of you were alone a different side of Raian came out. He became soft when he was with you. Gentle almost, He treated you as though you were something breakable. You’ve begun to notice the little things with him. The way he holds your hand, when you squeeze it he always gives you a squeeze back. The deep sigh he gives whenever you pull him into your arms. Even the way he nestles closer to you when you cuddle. Whenever you caress his face his eyes flutter closed briefly. He gave you special treatment. That much is true. Raian recently decided that the two of you needed to get away from the hustle and bustle that is Kure village. Even Raian needed get away and relax for a while. You’re happy he wanted to spend his vacation time with you. Erioh had a private vacation home deep in the mountains. He let you and Raian borrow it for the weekend. Well with the promise you wouldn’t trash it of course. The cabin felt homey with bearskin rugs, high ceilings, and a massive fire place to keep the home nice a warm. Raian had no interest in the wilderness, but he made a promise to go hiking with you. The woods were vast and fertile with life. It had rained earlier in the day, making the forest floor a little muddy in some places. Especially deeper in the valley. He enjoyed the fresh air and the gleam in your eyes as you walked through the mountains. Though Raian never goes anywhere without complaining. Too many bugs, and the mud, and somehow every pebble found it’s way into his shoe. He made you stop so he can dig it out every time. He showed you the whole valley. The land was vast, but Raian gave you a detailed tour of your surroundings. It was turning out to be quite the beautiful vacation. But the sun sets quickly in the mountains. Nearing the cabin, Raian let his hands wander down your back. You let out a squeak as his hand squeezed your behind. “God you look so fucking hot in those shorts.” He teases. You glared at his smirking face. He laughed at your purses lips. His arm made it around your waist, pulling you closer to him. The two of you stumbled inside the cabin. both kicking off your muddy hiking boots. 

His lips captured yours as he pulled you over to the couch and into his lap. He wasted no time running up and down your back, then to your shoulders, then down to your chest. He squeezes your breasts in his massive hands. You take his face in your hands and kiss him roughly, shoving your tongue in his mouth. His hands find their way up your shirt, fondling your breasts. Your fingers tangle in his ash hair. You dig them into his scalp and you give it a hard tug. Raian subsequently growls in your mouth. Your other hand travels down his abdomen to his belt. You palm him through his pants. He’s so hard already. He grabs the hem of your shirt and tugs up, normally you’d lift your arms up for him to pull the fabric over your head but you hesitate. He pulls away to interrogate you. “I’ve got an idea.” You interrupt him before he even says anything. Once your words reach his brain there’s a wide smirk on his face. Every time you say those four simple words something good happens. Raian is practically champing at the bit now. “Well fuck! Don’t leave me in suspense!” He barks. You’ve had this idea swimming in your brain the whole time you’ve been here. You stand and calmly walk over to the door. You slipped on your muddy hiking boots. You turn over to look at Raian. He must have gotten the memo. He’s breathing quite heavily with his hands gripping his knees, knuckles white. “Give me a head start. Then...” you swing open the door and step out into the cool night air, “Come and get it!” You say as you dash into the night.

 Noises from crickets and frogs filled the forest. Dodging trees and branches, the moonlight is your only source of light. There are bushes and greenery blocking your path. You leap over roots. You duck under low branches. You had a pretty good mental map of the forest form Raian’s tour. If you got lost you always had your phone in your pocket, GPS reached all throughout the valley. But then again you WILL be found. To the north there was the tallest mountain. The terrain was too rocky to climb, but there were deep caves. To the east was the lake with a small fishing shack and a boat. South were the closest roads and a small abandoned town. And to east a little past the woods were nothing but farm land. Raian was an excellent huntsman, he was a damn good predator. You’ve seen him track people down in vast cities like it was nothing. You wonder how long it would take him to find you in this forest. Here you were a willing prey. You needed to throw off his trail. You needed a plan. You know he’s going to find you no matter what. You looked down at your boots as you ran. He’ll be able to track your footprints in all this mud. The muddy boots are sticking deep in the earth. You’ll get stuck if you’re not careful. You run north to the base mountain. You’d use the rocky terrain to throw him off. You can’t see much. You hope to god you’re running the right way. But soon you see rocks, more and more. Perfect! You’re in the right place. Stones litter the ground. You’re at the base of the mountain. You look for a good cave. You didn’t Know how much of a head start you were getting. You knew that Raian is impatient but he also loves a good challenge. So you need to act fast. Finding a mouth of a cave that looks pretty deep you formed a plan in your head. You threw off your jumper and placed it deep inside. Then you dashed east- or you hoped east. To the lake.  You hoped your jumper would create a diversion, drawing your lover into the cave not to the lake. There was a small shack on the lake side. You’d be able to take refuge there before you come up what to do next. By this point your completely out of breath. Your heart is hammering In your chest. An animal is hunting you down. You knew Raian was in these wood. He will find you. And when he does- Ugh. You bite your lip at the thought. You look though the darkness. Raian IS somewhere out there. There’s no way in hell he’s still in the cabin. He is in these woods. Your pursuer is in these woods. Your mate is in these woods. Your legs are on fire. Your chest is burning, burning because you’ve been running and burning because you’re about to get your guts rearranged by your beast of a boyfriend. The frogs get louder. Hopefully that’s a sign that you’re getting close to the lake. You celebrate in your head. You may just give Raian a run for his money. That is till you trip. You use your hands to break your fall. You manage to land on a nice patch of grass... and mud. Ugh. You curse under your breath. You look over your shoulder to see what you tripped over. Only to look up and see a very out of breath and very angry Raian. He is breathing heavily. You can hear him huffing. Moonlight surrounded the two of you. Nervously, You chuckle to yourself. You didn’t think you’d get that far, of course. Your struggling to catch your breath. Raian suddenly gets on top of you, pinning you to the cold forest floor. His lips smash onto to yours. Bruising your already bruised lips. You hear the sound of your cloths tearing. You want to protest but Raian shoves his tongue in your mouth. Your ruined shirt is followed by your bra then shorts. All torn to shreds. He lifts you off the ground. You were kind of hoping he’d carry you back to the warm cozy cabin to breed you there, but you don’t quite care at this moment. You pull away, taking off his tracksuit jacket and throwing to the forest floor. It’s swiftly followed by his shirt. Your hands fly down to his belt. You take his lips in yours giving him a deep passionate kiss. Raian pulls you away and turns you around. You are now on your hands and knees on the forest floor. Raian shoves two fingers in his mouth, Making them slick. He rips off your panties and slides a finger into your slick folds. Rapidly, He shoves it in and out. You hear him curse under his breath as he adds another finger, pumping them in and out and scissoring them rapidly. Once your prepped enough for his liking he pulls out his dripping fingers. He shoves them in his mouth to taste you. Then you hear the sound of his belt then the feeling of his cock being shoved into you. Right off the bat he’s pounding deep inside. You arch your back. Your arms are shaking, then they give out. You feel your elbows get covered in the dirt. Your face is inches from the forest floor. The forest itself is filled with sounds of skin slapping against skin as he slams into you. You cry out, he’s fucking so deep into you. He’s rutting his cock so so so deep inside, hitting all the right places. Your stomach is doing flips. He’s stretching you out in all the right ways. You are definitely going to have bruises on your hips when you get up in the morning- if you can even get up in the morning. The animal behind you is growling and groaning. You feel a sharp sting as the sound echos though the forest. Raian smacks your ass again. The rest of the fabric on your body begins to chafe your skin. Behind you Raian is enjoying this. For him these were the spoils of the hunt. You led him on a hunt alright. You were fast, but he was much much faster. The thought of hunting you down and rutting into your wet heat made him run faster than ever before. You’re face is on the soft grass of the forest floor. Raian’s hand is tangled in your hair now. Your ass is in the air being slammed against the man behind you. You can only cry out, unable to contain any noises as Raian takes you. A sloshing wet noise is heard as His cock slams violently in and out of you. His pace is brutal. Your boots dig into the mud as your toes curl. Beads of sweat form, dripping down your body. You feel Raian’s tongue flatten across your back. His teeth sink into your flesh. You cry out again. You scream his name in the dead of night. Raian’s pace gets sloppy. He’s close. His hand snakes around your waist finding your clit. He massages the nub in rhythm with his brutal thrusts. Your toes turn and your stomach does flips. You pussy clenches around him. Making him growl. Your fingers are digging into the earth. Mud and grass fills your palms, squishing out from between your fingers. Your knuckles are white. You’ll be picking out dirt from under your nails later. Raian’s orgasm gets closer. He wants you to cum first. He wants you to cum first so bad. He pulls you up by your hair. “Cum. Cum on my cock Y/N. Fuck babe.” He growls through his teeth in your ear. He groans in your ear. You sob as the knot tightens in your stomach. Your pelvis strains. You let out one last scream before your delicious release. You cum HARD. Raian milks out your high and let’s you ride it out. You feel for pussy contract and twitch. The pleasure is too much for you. You slowly come down from your orgasm. You go limp after that. You mate removes his fingers from for poor abused clit. He pounds into you sloppily. His wet thrust are hasty. You’re being overstimulated. Tears full your eyes. It’s too much. Way too much. Finally after feels like forever, he doubles over and groans through clenched teeth. His load is massive. You’re already so full, you feel like you’re going to burst.   You both catch your breath. You whimper as he slips himself out. He tucks himself away then pulls you up on your feet. You try your best to keep your balance. Your legs are still shaking. Raian puts his warm traksuit jacket over your shoulders. You're pretty much naked besides your boots and the shreds of cloth stuck to your body. He helps you put your shaky arms in the holes. Raian watches as his release seeps out of you and down your leg You try your best to take a shaky step forward but your knees buckle. He catches you. Rain lifts you up in his arms. He smirks down at you. “Fuck babe. That was awesome. Let’s do that again.” He says as he leans down to kiss your muddy forehead. You lean your head on his shoulder and close your eyes. You’re both definitely full and satisfied.

[thegeneralguy]

The Champion of Olympus - Poseidon´s Passion

Out of all the three realms connected to the earth, the sea was by far the most extensive one. An entire underwater universe lurked beneath the surface, with more diversity in its inhabitants than both heaven and earth. Poseidon was the ruler of that realm, with the responsibility of maintaining the planet itself in balance. Oceanic currents and tectonic movement were crucial for the mortals´ survival. The god of the sea had inherited the realm after the Titanomachy, given to him by the true embodiment of the sea, Oceanus. He and his titan spouse had given birth to many of the phenomena Poseidon had to keep in check.

But the normally boisterous god was unusually quiet, sitting down in his chariot heading back to the cold depths of his kingdom. The words of his brothers resonated within him. Could it really be possible for Typhon to escape? And more importantly, would he be able to protect all the creatures under his rule? Keeping balance was Poseidon´s primary priority, which made the whole situation even more alarming for him. He took the reins tying the hippocampi pulling his chariot and pressured them to move faster. He had to reach the Oceanic Retreat, also known as the sunken city of Atlantis, to consult with the court about his next course of action.

The palace was located in the center of the underwater capital, adorned with bright gems and bright colorful coral. The city was so deep under the sea, it was unreachable by Apollo´s power. But despite the lack of sunlight, luminescent beings shone brightly to light the streets and buildings. Poseidon´s chariot floated over the gates of the palace and parked on one of the numerous sea gardens, which were filled with creatures and coral normally found on superficial reefs. Triton, Poseidon´s heir, and most trusted advisor greeted him from the gates of the palace.

"That bad huh?"

He asked as soon as he caught a glimpse of the god´s grim visage. The muscular deity approached his son carrying his massive trident with ease, the muscles in his arm pulsing with supernatural strength. The strength to make the earth shake and the ocean rise. Both gods rushed inside the palace to his throne room, while Poseidon put Triton up to date. The young deity was eager to learn the ways of Olympus, for when it was his turn to rise to the throne, so he listened carefully every time his father complained about their extended family.

"How fitting of uncle Zeus to find a way to try to compete with all of you. But if what he and Hades said is right, then we have no time to waste."

"It won´t be so easy son. Our job is to keep balance, and granting divinity to a mortal can very much upset the natural equilibrium of the planet. Just remember where we´re standing right now."

The city of Atlantis, once a thriving metropolis of the ancient world, had fallen victim to the whims of a fallen hero´s delirium and a heavenly dispute. After being defeated by the patron city of Poseidon´s niece, the Atlanteans fell into despair. They managed to get the favor of the god of the sea, who granted power beyond belief to their heroic leader. But this human wasn´t meant to rise as a new god, so the rest of Olympus rejected him, and punished the city by sinking it to the depths of the ocean.

While Triton pondered on his father´s worries, they reached the throne room. A glowing golden throne adorned with all kinds of underwater flora and fauna was in the center of the room, surrounded by a half-circle of different chairs more modest, but still ornamental to symbolize the sea´s royalty. Poseidon stood in front of his throne and slammed the enormous trident on the ground, producing an explosive sound that resonated within the entire ocean.

After a couple of seconds, the god of the sea´s call was answered by the most prominent figures in the oceanic realm. A representative for both the Oceanids, sea nymphs and the Potamoi, the rivers of the world, were the first to appear. Poseidon´s spouse Amphitrite also arrived fast and took her place right next to her husband. Polyphemus came next, the representative for the cyclops who were all devoted to the god of the sea. The old man of the sea, Nereus himself, showed up next. His relationship with Poseidon was more like a truce than a hierarchy, but Nereus´ connection to the ocean realm´s mortal creatures, including his daughters, was a good reason to keep him as an ally. The last one to show up was Styx, the embodiment of the river of the same name coursing through Hades´ realm.

As the court of the sea assembled, Triton took his seat on the right of his father and watched as the gigantic god paraded his muscular physique floating across the room.

"As some of you may know, I was summoned by Zeus for an emergency meeting. It seems the original monster is trying to break free from Tartarus. Is that true Styx?"

Automatically all eyes turned to the river´s seat expectantly. After Hades and the chthonic gods, the underworld river was supposed to know all the happenings of the realm.

"I have heard some rumors, but Lord Hades hasn´t told me anything. Things feel pretty normal in the underworld though. I haven´t sensed any fluctuations within my currents, which are pretty sensitive for any changes in the realm."

"That's very strange, but the fates wouldn´t lie. There is no way they would fall victims of a simple rumor."

Answered Poseidon meditating on the river´s answer. Styx was known to be direct and efficient, seeking to form a bridge between the realms so mortal souls reached their resting space safely. It wouldn´t bother to try and deceive the rest of the deities, especially on such a delicate matter. But then, who was lying? Triton raised from his seat and continued talking, trying to explain the situation his father was telling him about a couple of minutes ago.

"It seems the king of the gods has called for a new Champion to be chosen."

"Is that true Poseidon?"

Asked Amphitrite looking at her husband with worry in her eyes. Poseidon´s days of violence ended eons ago, and she was worried a heavenly competition like the trial of the Champion was going to get the worst out of her husband again.

"Zeus commanded each of the twelve Olympians to choose a champion. As you can imagine, I´m very reluctant to do so again."

Answered Poseidon with a serious tone. The last thing he wanted was to put his subjects through another catastrophe, but something smelled fishy in the whole situation. He wasn´t keen on trusting his family, but the odds were too high. He had to assume the worst in order to prepare. Nereus rose from his seat, his long white beard filled with barnacles floating around him, and talked in a raspy voice that sounded like a shipwreck crashing in the bottom of the sea.

"You have to make a choice Poseidon. We cannot risk Typhon getting out, it would mean extinction for our kind. Your newfound love for balance will have to wait until this situation is resolved."

"How dare you tell me how I should act old man. Remember I am the god of the sea, one of the twelve Olympians, and your ruler. I know what is best for my kingdom."

Growled Poseidon angrily, as his trident caused the floor to shake with fury. Nereus smirked slightly, knowing he reached the god´s weakest spot: his authoritarian nature. No matter how he tried to hide it, Poseidon was infatuated by battle and carnage. And he was going to demonstrate to all the sea that the king still had the will of expanding the realm. A Champion of the sea on earth would create the perfect opportunity to take over the terrestrial plane.

"Leave the sentimentalism aside Poseidon. You have to make a choice. Will you risk the present´s balance to secure the future?"

Everyone looked at the silent god of the sea. Poseidon hated Nereus, but he was right. Balance is not worth it if the future is put in doubt. He had made his choice. As hard as it was, he had to gift a mortal again with divinity. Triton stared worriedly at his father. The advisor knew what his king was capable of, and it scared him. But in the end, the risk had to be worth the benefits. He reached to touch his father´s giant shoulder.

"Father…"

Poseidon then raised his trident, as a powerful twisting current propelled him upwards, going through the open roof and heading for the surface. If his brothers wanted a Champion, they were going to have one. For the sake of the ocean, and the balance of the future.

  It was a peculiarly cold day on top of the St. Helena frigate. Ltjg. Gabo Ramirez was making his usual rounds on the top deck, making sure everyone was doing their respective tasks. The young man had joined the navy in hopes of finding some stability in his chaotic life. He had always felt attracted to the sea, its vast expanse offering the peace of mind that a problematic orphaned child needed. Growing up on the coast let him escape very often to meet his secret lover. He got infatuated when he was very young, and his mother was still alive. She took him to the beach every day to collect different treasures like seashells or pieces of broken coral in order to make jewelry out of them. Young Gabo felt proud he was helping support his widowed mother.

His father was a fisherman, but he barely had any memory of him, because he died when Gabo was barely a toddler. His mother told him his fishing ship sank during one of the common hurricanes predating on the beautiful Caribbean coast. But even though the sea had taken one of his progenitors away, Gabo couldn´t help but fall deeper in love with it. As he grew up, money grew tight. His mother tried desperately to provide for her son, so he could go to school and do something with his life. Life pushed her to more desperate means, selling herself so her son could have a future. In the end, things turned out grim for the poor boy.

He still remembered the stormy night when someone knocked on the door of their little apartment. A tall police officer told him the bad news. They found her on a bench close to the harbor. His mother died trying to protect her son. His childhood ended on that instant, and he was thrown down an administrative rabbit hole that turned his life into a living nightmare. He jumped from orphanages to foster homes over and over again. He felt like the world had betrayed him, taking his greatest love away from him. The sweet child turned into a sour teenager, who caused trouble and mischief wherever he went. His only refuge was still the sea. After all that had happened, it was the only place where Gabo felt grounded and alive. After his mother passed away it became his greatest love.

After he miraculously made his way through school, he decided to leave Puerto Rico and enlist in the U.S. navy. He was conscious his life needed to take a turn for the better, so he was mentally prepared for whichever challenge the tough military system was going to throw at him. The problem was, he was not physically ready for them, struggling through the first years of training. A life of chaos had left him with a scrawny underfed body, which was agile enough to get him swiftly out of trouble, but not strong enough to face it.

He remained adamant on his decision, and he endured the painful years of training, swallowing his deep survival instinct of fleeing before he was entirely committed. Gabo was used to swiftly getting out of trouble, thanks to his more cowardly nature. But he studied hard, put his life on track, and was rewarded for it. Now he got to spend a life together with his love, the sea, watching its waves flow into the horizon. A blue paradise extended before him.

Ltjg. Ramirez diverted his gaze from the ocean and went back to realizing his tasks to their full extent. The frigate was on standby close to the arctic sea, between Greenland and Europe, so there wasn´t a lot to do. The wind outside was pretty cold, nothing but dark water and a few small icebergs in the surroundings. He went back into the ship to finish his active shift and get something to eat in the cafeteria.

"Hey, Ramirez! Come here, we´re playing poker. This asshole has been running his mouth about beating you all afternoon!"

Said Lt. March calling him to one of the tables, where some of his crewmates were gathered. The person running his mouth was Lt. Krass. He and March were Ramirez´s superiors, but they had grown to like the mousy kid. His skills in gambling were known on the whole ship and made his crewmates and some of his superiors very interested in testing his skills. Life on the streets had taught him everything he needed to know to be a good gambler, and he had a good poker face to finish his killer combination.

"I can gladly take all your money off of you sir."

Said Ramirez laughing as he sat on the table to play with the cards. Sailors had to enjoy every second of interaction, or else they started suffering some mental issues that came with the constant isolation and lack of new stimuli.

"I´m telling you kid if you didn´t look like a toothpick I would´ve beaten your ass for taking a week´s worth of salary."

Said the much bigger Lt. March in an intimidating way, but just with the right amount of joyfulness to let Gabo know he was joking. He could probably pick the small junior lieutenant and throw him overboard if he felt like it.

"Give him a break March. It´s not his fault you´re a dumb player. Besides, I´ll get that money and will take you to a nice bar with it when we touch land again."

Laughed the equally big Krass punching his mate on the shoulder. In fact, Ramirez was probably the smallest man on board. The 24-year-old barely made the height cut on the recruiting process, and although he had gained some muscle mass from the rigorous training, it wasn´t enough to get close to his crewmate´s giant sizes. But his appearance was what caused his crewmates and superiors to gain a certain fondness for the young recruit. He was the runt of the litter.

After a while of laughing at Krass´s dumbfound expression as Ramirez managed to beat him and take all his money as well, the boys called off the night and everyone was in their chambers by curfew. Ramirez laid on his bed feeling the soft movement of the waves rocking his bed, enjoying the sensation. He thought about his mother and the beach in his childhood, as his memories carried him to deep sleep, completely ignorant of the approaching menace on the cold waters of the ocean.

 All sailors woke up at five in the morning, swiftly getting out of bed and lining up to clean themselves. Gabo woke up agitated. He had a strange feeling, but he couldn´t exactly distinguish what was going on. He also had strange dreams that night, about a giant black whale stalking the tumbling frigate, whilst he watched powerlessly from the deck of the ship.

"Not a very good night kid? It must be that guilty conscience for stealing from your favorite superior."

Said Lt. March, who was directly in line in front of him. Ramirez managed to get a nervous laugh out.

"It´s nothing, sir. Just a bad dream."

March looked at him with concern. He really cared for the well being of his subordinates, and he was worried being on the sea for so long was starting to take its toll on the novice sailor. He knew the young junior lieutenant was very passionate about his work, but he was still inexperienced to recognize the effects of long-term isolation.

"Listen Ramirez. I´m your superior, but we´re a team. There´s not a lot to do today, so why don't you take it easy just for a day."

The young recruit smiled broadly at the big man in front of him.

"Thanks, sir, but I can handle work. I know what I signed up for."

Lt. March smiled back, impressed at the discipline of his subordinate. This kid was going to go far he thought, as both made their way into the small shower cabin. While they were undressing, Krass approached March and whispered something to him quietly. Ramirez couldn´t hear a word, but judging by March´s expression it wasn´t good news. Krass then left the bathroom, and March turned around to face Ramirez. His big chest was inches away from Gabo´s face, and his lower part was tightly covered by a small towel.

It wasn´t a secret Ramirez was into both men and women. All his crewmates respected his orientation and felt comfortable around him. So much they didn´t mind parading themselves naked from time to time, testing the young recruit´s self-control. It was harder in the beginning, but now Gabo was used to it, casually having conversations with his fellow naked sailors. He still enjoyed the show, only silently and respectfully. He has had few sexual experiences in the past, but nothing to boast about. Still, his crew was untouchable for him, the comradery far outweighing the lust.

March was another story though. The man sported an impressive physique build through years and years of discipline and hard training. His chest was very prominent, followed by a big muscular gut that was still a couple of inches behind. Powerful arms capable of pulling even the heaviest anchor hung to his side, and tree trunk legs supported the almost 300 pounds man. He was also a good head taller than Ramirez, making the younger sailor a dwarf in comparison. Even though Ramirez tried his best, he couldn´t help but feel a certain level of attraction for the muscular man. After gawking at his superior´s body for enough time, Gabo looked up to hear what he was about to say.

"It seems there is a storm heading our way. It´s gonna be a full day of work after all Ramirez. You´ll get your chance to shine."

Ltjg. Ramirez never faced an open sea storm on his few months on board, so he didn´t know what to expect. A feeling in his gut was telling him to pretend he was sick to stay under the deck, but Gabo was no coward. He was going to do his work and prove why he was there among those big burly men. He finished showering and looked at himself in the mirror.

His dark brown hair was neatly cut in a conscription cut, perfectly square and short. His young face had a scar on his chin product of a street brawl a couple of years ago, but his features still retained the innocent look that came with youth. His beautiful light brown skin was free of any blemishes. His smooth body had slight muscle definition, but more because of little body fat than actual lean mass. He quickly glanced inside the towel to look at his manhood. He couldn´t be disappointed because there were smaller dicks around, but he was nowhere near to someone endowed. He was more like on the average to the low part of the scale. He was feeling good and confident about himself today. Gabo quickly put on his uniform and rushed outside to start his tasks for the day.

He headed up the deck to quickly brush the floors, check the analog temperature measurements and check that the lifeboats were in a good state. People quickly mobilized after news of the storm spread around. The captain made a formal announcement during lunch, telling the crew they should brace for the storm in the early hours of the night. No one seemed to be too scared about it, making their usual jokes and talking loudly lie every day. Still, the feeling in the pit of his stomach was starting to bother Ramirez. He had a bad feeling about today. And as a kid from the street, Gabo knew trusting his feelings was crucial for survival. The nerves were causing him to barely touch his food.

Lt. March noticed the kid staring quietly at his tray. It was unusual for the lively Latin kid to go dead silent, so he approached and sat down next to him.

"Don´t worry kid, it´s just a storm. Occupational hazards. It will be gone sooner than you think."

Even though Ramirez loved the sea, storms were always a cause of anxiety for him. He was reminded that a storm killed his father. And worse of all, a storm was raging the night he found out about his mother. Storms were a bad omen for him. He turned around to face the rugged, but the concerned face of his superior.

"I trust you, sir. It´s just I have a bad history with storms."

"I assure you kid, it´s gonna be a better night than one with you taking all my money."

The light-hearted joke made both men laugh, as the tense aura around Gabo dissipated. He trusted his lieutenant. He saw in him the father figure he never had. They finished eating their meal and dispersed around the ship to finish the preparations for the bad forecast. When the sun started setting down is when the dark clouds started gathering over the frigate. Strong winds pushed everything exposed to the surface, and increasingly agitated waves crashed against the ship, making the most remote corners of the shell creak under the water´s pressure. Ramirez finished his tasks on deck and looked to the horizon for the last time of the day. An ominous dark mass was approaching the ship. Little droplets started falling from the sky. They were the last preface of what was about to come. The junior lieutenant went back under deck quickly as the slow rain turned into a tempestuous downpour.

He found his crewmates in the cafeteria as usual, but there were no games this time. Everyone was eating quietly, expectant of the first order barked through the loudspeakers. March wasn´t there, nor Krass. Ramirez assumed that command was having a meeting about the current situation. He sat down on a corner with his tray, unable to take a bite. All his instincts were telling him to run, to get out of there swiftly, so he could survive. Ramirez was fighting his innate fleeing nature. He kept reassuring himself why he got enlisted, why he was doing everything he was told to. He wanted stability, he craved it. But a part of him didn´t want to leave his past self behind. It was what kept him alive for so long after all. But he couldn´t go back to fleeing from his problem. And most important of all he couldn´t let his crew know he was so scared. Bravery in the face of adversity was a virtue after all. This little sacrifice was for his future self, and no one else.

The sailors left the cafeteria quietly. One by one they retired to their chambers. Ramirez followed his crewmates and was able to go to bed early as he didn´t have any guard shift that night. He zoned out for a while, unable to reach deep sleep. After a few hours, around midnight, the alarm made him jump out of bed and get dressed. He got out of his chambers to see all his crewmates heading for the upper doors. The hallway was lit red, and a reverberating sound echoed through the passages of the frigate. Ramirez tried his best not to fall due to what he assumed was disorientation until the entire crew including him were thrown to the side. He wasn´t dizzy, it was the waves crashing against the ship that caused it to rock back and forth intensively.

When he made it to the upper deck, his fellow sailors were all running to their stations. Many went to prepare the lifeboats, while others reinforced the previously tied up materials so the storm couldn´t blow them again. Ramirez went to his emergency station next to the edge to secure the supplies he was supposed to. The sky was completely painted black, like the furious sea bellow him. Rain poured down intensively, and an icy wind blew with all force against the ship and its crew. Ramirez was freezing, his frail body more exposed thanks to its lack of body mass, and the tempestuous currents kept throwing him around like a little leaf during an autumn breeze.

A big wave crashed against the frigate, making the vessel lean completely to the opposite side. One of the crates on the opposite side of Ramirez got untied and came sliding fast towards the terrified recruit, who was holding on to the rails on the edge for his life. He turned around just on time to see the giant box charging against him, and closed his eyes preparing for the inevitable. He immediately heard his name echo in the distance and felt a powerful pair of hands push him from the back out of the crate´s trajectory. Ramirez looked back just in time to see his protector Lt. March flies off the board into the raging waters below.

"Lt. March!"

Screamed the tearful junior lieutenant. His fear was completely erased in an instant, triggering his quick reaction speed. He grabbed a safety rope next to him and without thinking he threw himself into the mouth of the beast. The black waters of the sea swallowed him whole. The only thing he felt was a bone-chilling sensation taking over his entire body, as he swam in the direction of his superior.

"Kid what are you doing here?! You crazy son of a bitch!"

Said March in a mixture of awe, anger, and gratefulness.

"It´s my duty to protect my crew lieutenant! Quick, grab the rope!"

He handed over the rope to the more experienced March, who started tying a strong knot so the crew could pull them out. Their brief moment of relief ended in an instant, as another giant wave stroke from their side this time, separating the young Ramirez from his lieutenant. The crew started pulling the rope, just to get only March back on board. The big man immediately perched on the edge and frantically searched with his eyes for the young subordinate.

"Ramirez! Ramirez!"

But only darkness remained, with no sight of the young recruit. Meanwhile, Ramirez struggled to swim against a powerful current. He considered himself a good swimmer, having grown close to the water. But no matter how hard he kicked and flailed, the underwater stream kept pulling him downwards. The cold was starting to numb his senses, as he let out a last bubble of breath and his unconscious body was dragged into the infinite abyss.

 Ramirez then woke up surrounded by complete darkness. He was laying on a rocky wet floor, dripping wet and feeling breathless. He coughed a couple of times, expelling a good amount of water out of his lungs. He stood up, but couldn't see anything around him. There was no breeze, no sound, absolutely nothing. He was about to take a step when a strong voice made him freeze in his tracks.

"Lt. Ramirez. I´ve been looking for someone like you."

"Who are you? Where am I?"

"Those questions don´t matter anymore child. You´re under my protection, that´s all that matters."

He then heard a resounding metallic sound against the rocky floor and was completely shocked by what he saw. The trident of the god of the sea emitted a powerful glow, which then seeped into the cracks on the bedrock bellow to illuminate Ramirez´s surroundings. He was inside a big air compartment under what it seemed to be the ocean, and in front of him was an extremely muscular man holding a giant trident. Poseidon then approached the young lieutenant, holding up his chin with his strong hand.

"You will do just fine. Your potential is unmeasurable, and you know the meaning of suffering and the price of balance. A noble soul like you will be of great use to me and my realm."

"I have to get back to my ship sir. Please help me, my crew is in danger."

Said Ramirez nervously while he scanned the god in front of him with his eyes. The prominent chest was probably as wide as Ramirez holding both of his arms to his sides, with strong protruding abdominal muscles supporting it. He had the biggest arms he had ever seen, even among the famous bodybuilders he always liked to watch on the internet. His lower body was even more powerful. He was only wearing the lower part of a short white robe, with gold accessories adorning his wrists and belt. Two penetrating blue eyes glowed like the deepest of oceans, set as the highlight of a rugged but beautiful face. The cherry on top was a luscious chestnut-colored beard falling right on top of his upper chest. Poseidon noticed the way this kid was looking at him and smiled broadly. He liked his ego stroked like all the gods.

"The ship was spared. But that passion is what I´m looking for. A loving protector, who is strong enough to crush anything on his way."

He pointed his trident towards the young lieutenant and smiled.

"Meet me on the base of Mount Olympus in Greece by the next full moon. I will grant you the true love of my kingdom, in exchange for your loyalty and strength. I´m counting on you."

A blue light came out of the trident, completely enveloping Ramirez. The cold sensation was gone, together with the exhaustion he felt before regaining consciousness. When the light faded, Poseidon was gone. The air bubble around him started popping, letting water in again. Ramirez was quickly swallowed by the ocean, having only time to briefly hold his breath. Once he could not hold it any longer, he coughed only to find out he was able to breathe normally underwater. He also thought about how he practically was immune to the pressure of the sea above him, not feeling any strain on his body.

He took off his uniform so he could swim better, leaving him only wearing the pair of black boxer shorts he had on, and started exploring his surroundings. The light the trident had infused on the ground remained there and formed a path leading the young sailor forward into the darkness. After swimming for a while, he found the strangest creature he had ever seen. A beautiful horse with the tail of a fish was waiting at the end of the illuminated road. The animal looked at Ramirez, and he immediately knew what he had to do. He floated towards the hippocampus, and rode on its back, grabbing its neck as the animal swiftly swam towards the surface.

He must have been pretty deep thought Ramirez because it took a long time until he saw the weak rays of sunlight replace the absolute darkness he was in before. He could feel the water caressing his body, but it opposed little resistance to the fast creature and the young sailor on top. It also wasn´t cold like before, but getting warmer the more the sea horse carried him through the vastness of the ocean. He was fascinated by its massive expanse and could feel its sheer power pulsating through the water.

They passed all kinds of sea creatures like schools of fishes, dolphins and even a few whales. Ramirez´s connection with the sea grew stronger, together with his love for it. He was so enthralled by the fascinating view in front of him that he missed the sensation the stronger current was causing on his body. The swirling water quickly surrounded him, tying him to the back of the hippocampus and constraining his limbs. Ramirez felt a dull pain product of the waters slowly pulling his limbs and spine further away from each other, rapidly adding inches to his height until the formerly short sailor reached a towering 7 feet height. The pulling didn´t stop there though, as each bone grew to form the canvas for the muscle that was coming in next.

The warm water caressed and massaged each individual muscle, transferring the titanic strength of the ocean to them. The legs holding on to the hippocampus started growing first. It looked like water was being pumped directly into his skin. Quadriceps strong enough to crush rocks between them formed on his upper legs, with edges carving themselves out of the gigantic muscles. His calves were pulled apart and rearranged by the current until two diamond-shaped calves replaced the former toothpick lower legs. His feet grew even bigger for a man his size, necessary for the swift propulsion underwater. The growth moved to his butt cheeks, the sensation finally making Ramirez aware of what was happening to him. He felt a strong cramp in his ass, as both glutei raised further and further from the back of the sea horse. His underwear strained to the maximum under the pressure of the new watermelon-sized ass cheeks.

Ramirez watched his lower body turn into the one of a card-carrying professional bodybuilder. The sensations invading his body were too intense for him to remain calm. He felt incredible awe for the creatures that were crossing through his sight. He felt the warm and pleasurable caress of the water on his body. He felt the strong rocking of the hippocampus´ swimming. And he felt a crushing pain as the pressure in the water reformed his body. He let go of the creature to grab his stomach in pain. He felt like the water was suctioning each individual brick in his abdomen out, and he was quickly left with a powerful eight pack cut into his midsection. His Adonis belt protruded out of his sides, and his serratus muscles carved themselves so deep it looked like the man had developed gills.

Ramirez then felt the current push him from the back of the sea horse, and the sailor fell to the back watching the creature swim away from him. He immediately began swimming trying to reach it, but his newly developed lower body still moved clumsily lacking the coordination needed to move such a heavy mass. Ramirez focused all of his strength on reaching the hippocampus when suddenly a strong water current propelled him forward and he was able to reach the creature. He then realized he was practically flying underwater, enjoying the freedom of moving like a torpedo through the ocean. He swam graciously together with the hippocampus, both dancing synchronized to the rhythm of the waters.

Small whirlpools formed around his brown nipples, sending waves of pleasure through the man and increasing their size to fit into the new gigantic chest that was about to come. His pectoral muscles squared on the lower end, and then pushed further out inflating like two water mattresses. The water was putting so much pressure on his upper body the sailor felt his bones were going to get crushed. Ramirez was left with a herculean chest powerful enough to fight the roaring waves of a tsunami. His shoulders were next, as each deltoid inflated bigger than cannonballs with enough strength to lift an anchor above his head.

He then felt the current pull his arms so hard he thought they were going to be ripped apart. The pressure in his muscles made him wince in pain, while his triceps dripped and grew like marlin´s dorsal fin, pushing the former noodles to the sides of his body, and his biceps inflated like water balloons about to pop due to their sheer size. Massive sinews formed on his upper arms, and his hands grew massively muscular, wide enough to push large amounts of water on a single stroke.

He examined both of his new arms when a cramp in his back made him bend forward and scream in pain. He felt the water vibrating on his spine, spreading the sensation to every muscle like a flare. The upper back started extending and rounding up like a turtle shell, and the lats on each side protruded so far, he looked more like a giant T instead of a V. His back was by far the strongest muscle on his body, designed to propel the new man through the chaotic waters with ease.

The current then swirled around his neck, starting to choke him. The traps raised to connect to his ears and complete the growth of the monstrous back. He could hear his grumble grow lower as his neck expanded with muscle, leaving his head looking like a tiny pin on a godly body. The pain was overwhelming the young sailor. He opened his mouth to let out a painful scream when suddenly water flowed into his body with intensity. Veins started popping out of his limbs, improving the oxygen saturation, and therefore endurance for the giant.

Large veins popped on his lower abdomen, and then he felt an excruciating pressure pushing behind his manhood. His penis then started inflating, far surpassing the limits of the already strained underpants, which were ripped off by the strong currents. His newly improved appendage kept growing and pulsing so much, Ramirez thought it was going to explode. It stopped growing at almost a foot in length, and a jaw-breaking girth. It looked like a glass bottle that was hanging from his legs. His balls were next, inflating to an equine size and falling heavy between his monstrous legs.

Male hormones combined with divine power started flowing through his body, boosted by the invading water current inside of him. He felt a cracking pressure on his head, which grew proportional to the new body size. His angular face grew more masculine, his jaw broadening into a thick square, and his brow pushing further over his eyes giving him a menacing look. His nose then cracked and widened, while his lips plumped a bit more. His already short dark brown hair retreated into his scalp, leaving him with a short buzz cut. The amount of testosterone in his body was so high, his hairline receded a little bit. His face was then invaded by a permanent shadow with the potential of growing a thick beard. The rest of his body sucked in his body hair, leaving his smooth. His beautiful brown skin darkened a bit more. His pores then started producing a small amount of oil, that gave him a shiny look and helped him oppose little resistance to the forces of the sea, making underwater travel far easier.

The current then stopped forcing its way into his body and released his limbs from their invisible shackles. Ramirez started touching his body incredulously, incapable of dimensioning the change he just went through. He felt the raw power of the sea pulse within him. He touched his face and felt his young skin under his fingers. His scar was gone too. The sight of the new man might have been bizarre, due to him still looking young despite his overwhelming masculinity. Ramirez was so distracted by his new body, that he missed the waters getting slowly more superficial and the hippocampus turning around and leaving back into the abyss.

The sailor propelled himself further into the shallowing waters when he was suddenly greeted by the figure of a beautiful young man sitting on an underwater rock. He couldn´t be older than the junior lieutenant, although his presence and demeanor felt older than civilization itself. His long hair flowed along with the current, glistening with silver light. He had the carved body of an Olympic swimmer, with defined and strong limbs made to love underwater and a very wide back developed from physical activity in the sea. He was also completely smooth, the only hair on his body remaining on his head, eyebrows, and long eyelashes. He beamed a white smile as radiant as the sun at the stranger.

Ramirez approached the young Adonis with a dumbfounded expression on his face. Even though his sexual experience was limited, he was very familiar with the feelings of lust invading his body. Only this time, they were overwhelmingly strong, almost clouding his entire conscience. The man got up from the rock and touched Gabo´s muscular chest.

"Father was right, you turned out better than expected."

He had a melodious hypnotic voice almost too beautiful to be coming out of a hunk like him. Ramirez looked down at the man caressing his body. His knees shook nervously, while he let himself be seduced by the apparition before him. But something in his mind suddenly snapped. He felt the pressure from before again, only this time inside his thoughts as if the water was rinsing the old cowardly nature of the sailor. For some reason, the situation didn´t feel right. He was the one supposed to be doing the seduction, not the other way around.

He took the young man from his legs and pulled him close to his body raising him to his same height. He then proceeded to passionately make out with the stud, both their tongues dancing in each other's mouth. Ramirez felt like sea spume was filling his head, making it harder and harder to focus. He started losing his grip on reality. Like waves carving and molding the strong rocks underneath, the magical power carved out a new man out of the young sailor. More and more dominance asserted itself into his persona, replacing the old more submissive nature. His body language was a dead giveaway of what was happening in his mind.

The sea hunk noticed how his lover´s kiss started to grow more aggressive, invading his mouth with a strong tongue. His big hands started squeezing the young man´s ass, ways of pleasuring a person during sex being engraved in his memory. Years of experience pushed their way into the new man, his face growing more rugged with lines of age and his body gaining more thickness that comes with years of labor. His giant manhood was already grown at full mast, stroking the cheeks of his prey like a sea serpent just before attacking and spreading his self-produced oil on his skin. The young man then guided the hard rod to the entrance of his body, pushing down ever so slightly to get the head in.

The hunk had been with many lovers before, but this was still considered to be a very big phallus. He carefully slid down in order to accommodate the muscular man´s size inside of him. Ramirez kept fighting the tide inside his head. He was scared of changing, of letting go of who he was. A part of him still wanted to flee and pretend none of this had happened. But remembering his hometown beach stopped his train of thought. He remembered the beautiful waters shining in the sunlight, of all the creatures dependent on them, from little crabs on the beach to the big metropolis of the world. The ocean´s ecosystem was the most important one in the world, and it had to be protected. The love he felt for the sea turned into a massive tidal wave inside of him that finally broke down all his mental barriers and completely dragged his old personality out of existence. He didn´t have to flee anymore, he possessed the strength to break the earth and part the ocean. He could destroy anything that got in his way of protecting what he loved.

Ltjg. Gabo Ramirez was reborn in the form of Gabriel, the name his mother had originally given him, and the new protector of the sea. The last bits of his personality evaporating like the sea breeze under the scorching sun. His young lover watched in awe as the eyes of the titan started to glow, and a deep blue color washed his former brown irises away. Once his manhood had entered the hunk completely, he started thrusting back and forth with the strength to shake the earth. He was a god among men, and he had the right to be pleased. Still, he liked to share the pleasure with his lovers, and care for them. He liked feeling like the strong protector he was born to be. The young sea hunk smiled broadly knowing the transformation was complete, and let himself be completely dominated and pleased by the titan inside of him.

 The sun was already setting when Gabriel came out of the warm waters. He wasn´t in the frosty northern sea anymore but the warm coasts of southern Greece. He was only wearing the bikini strap the young hunk had given him once they parted ways, along with a kiss and the promise of meeting him again. Gabriel looked at the vast sea before him and smiled. He was going to do whatever it took to protect his new home. He was going to honor his Lord´s will by conquering and crushing anything in his way. He still had a couple of days before the full moon, which should be enough to get to Mount Olympus. He then thought about all the life and all the pleasure he could have on his way. He was going to bless a lot of mortals with his sexual prowess. He took one last deep breath before heading inland, his nostrils filling with the salty smell of the sea breeze along with his own radiating masculine scent, his skin shimmering under the setting sun. The giant then disappeared into the prairie, ready for whatever challenge the world may throw at him.

In the distance sitting next to a cliff was Nereus, watching the newly chosen one walk towards his destiny. He found the Olympians obnoxious, but he had to admit they did a pretty fine handiwork. The new man looked like he jumped out of a perverted fever dream, with enough power to shatter the earth with each step.

"He really does feel like he looks, father."

A joyful voice said on the back. Nereus turned around to see his own son Nerites staring playfully at him. The young god loved to play around but was filled with respect for his father. The beautiful merman smiled broadly at the old man, who gave him an approving nod.

"Well done son. I knew Poseidon needed a little push. I´m glad to see his opus got your sign of approval."

"It´s going to be an interesting time after all. Life is just fun."

Said Nerites enthusiastically as both gods stared into the distance wondering about the Olympian´s intricate rivalries and plots in the sky.

[your-handsome-hero]

Open Starter- medieval Rhack AU

Featuring King Jack, looking for slave Rhys (Since who I originally wrote this for never replied, might as well not let this go to waste. Don’t bother replying if you can’t match length.)

The country of Pandora was a vast empire ruled by the Hyperion empire by King Jack. The country is widely diverse but a large portion of it is plagued by rouges and bandits, leaving many middle and lower class people at the mercy of the criminals while the wealthy lived in the town of Helios where there were many guards as it was the capitol and where the king’s castle resided. It was a beautiful town with some of the best artisans having designed the architecture. The castle has been at it’s center for a hundred years, but when Jack took the throne he used his wealth to make some improvements and to show off he lived in the most luxurious place.

His first queen had passed away years ago after giving birth a daughter he named Angel. Jack had remarried some years later to Duchess Moxxie to form an alliance, but shortly after the wedding it was clear that the king and his new queen hated each other. They were always at odds with each other and an argument ensured whenever the two of them were involved in making decisions. The years went by and they made things work, mostly, with their purely political relationship. Moxxie had her haram to keep her company and Jack kept himself busy overseeing his army of knights for war against the criminals that ran wild just outside of Helios.  

Even with all the distractions and money he could want, Jack still had this nagging empty feeling in his chest. It bothered him and led the king to become irritated and in his frustrations the default emotion was anger. Because of this many thought the king harsh and violent at times, one who knew this wasn’t true was princess Angel who saw how hard he worked trying to make her happy. He had even went on a quest with his most loyal knights to find her a unicorn with a diamond horn, though she being just a child at that time gave the pony unicorn the most silly name she could think of: Buttstalion. The unicorn being the most prized possession it was always guarded and Angel always had an entourage of knights to protect her while out riding.

Boredom ensued now adays when the kingdom was mostly at piece. Bandits had all either been captured or left the country so that left the king with no purpose for his army he had built up. A visit to the prison was some entertainment to Jack. He had the lead guard show him the new prisoners.

“Bandit? Hang him. Thief, third time caught? Cut a hand off, obviously hasn’t learned from the last two lashings... This one did what to a sheep?! God- ew! Castrate him and send the sheep to the castle barn, that poor animal needs a vacation and therapy.” King jack said as he stopped at the cells and gave each prisoner a punishment when informed of their crimes. He then stopped at a cell and looked confused at the young man sitting on the dirty floor. “The heck this guy do?”

The knight stopped and looked into the cell having completely forgot about this one. “This is Rhys we arrested this morning, he stole bread from the bakery that provides for the palace.” The knight answered.

Jack scoffed and gestured to the prisoner. “Well of course he did, the guy is a freaking stick! Looks like he hasn’t eaten for a week. Send him to the castle, I could use another slave to boss around... After I have him get cleaned up and given a meal.” He added with a look back in Rhys’ direction before leaving to head back to the castle.

[waitingforminjae]

I remember a few weeks ago on shawol twt, someone had retweeted a video of Jonghyun doing one of his sexier songs, like Moon or Cocktail or smth and commented “jonghyun cock” on it as a joke, and a non-shawol got mad at them bc they felt like that was disrespectful to speak of the dead like that. 

Shawol twt promptly lost their damn MINDS abt it, and prececded to get the man trending by tweeting abt how sexy he and his music was, and the whole thing remains the funniest shit I’ve ever seen in my life bc shawols are funny as fuck and petty as hell when u really get them going.

But what was really fascinating, was the underlying point buried underneath all the crass comments and jjong fancams. Which is Shawols insistence that people stop telling them how they should interact with him and his legacy. 

I’ve made no secret of it on this blog that I hate what I used call “hollywood bullshit” but now simply call “idol bullshit”. The crux of my soap box is this: Hollywood romanticizes celebrities who died young, especially of overdose, accidents, or suicide, so that it doesn’t have to take responsibility for the role the Hollywood system played in their deaths. A few examples would be the 27 club, Marilyn Monroe, James Dean, and River Phoenix. I’ve been passionate abt this for a long time.

But the thing abt the people I focus on, like River, is that they have been dead for 20+ years. Their legacy is settled, and in some ways there’s nothing more tragic. They are remembered for dying young, because that’s what Hollywood chose to focus on. People remember tragedy. It’s often the only thing people know about them.

So, from an objective standpoint, it has been very interesting to watch that battle over legacy play out in real time. I remember when the news broke about Jonghyun, and how I saw him trending on Tumblr and clicked on it. I read abt how a guy from SHINee had died, and although I was not into kpop, I had a very very good friend who was. I immediately contacted her, because I had remembered her talking at length about SHINee. And I scrolled through the tag. I read articles. I posted on Facebook, even, “another bright young thing dead at  27, when will we learn?”

But even then, Shawols were taking control of the narrative. I remember y’all saying that ppl shouldn’t talk like he kept it all inside and nobody knew. He spoke openly about his mental health, y’all insisted, he was a real advocate for things that mattered. He wasn’t sad all the time. 

And when they did the concert in February. God. The images and gifs of SHINee dressed in white, flanking that microphone, will haunt me until the day I die. That was over a year before I got into SHINee. I got into them, finally, this August.

And what I found here, and what I’ve observed, has really changed the way I interact with celebrities who die young. It made me realize that I, too, was focusing on the wrong things. To y’all, he is still very much with us, and you talk about everything but his death. SHINee really is still five, because you haven’t let him become a tragedy. You talk about the vast diversity of his music, his talents and skills, his words and his love. The way he loved you, the way he loved his members and family, the way he loved Roo. Like all of us, Jonghyun was more than one thing, and Shawols have worked hard to keep him alive in your hearts as the wonderfully complex human being that he was. And every time people try to reduce him to just that one day, you fight for him. You refuse to let people turn him into tragedy porn. You stand up for his legacy and say, No. Here’s who Jonghyun was, and it is more than just that one moment. 

I have never seen or heard of anything like it. It’s beautiful. And it’s what he deserves.

[rpgsandbox]

Blue Planet is a compelling RPG journey into humanity’s precarious future on a distant waterworld where political unrest and a hungry alien ecology threaten the nascent colony effort. A planet where GEO marshals struggle to maintain peace, Incorporate mercenaries wage amphibious proxy wars, and native insurgents fight for their adopted world. A frontier where human desperation and corporate greed ravage an uncanny ecology, threatening to plunge humanity into a war of survival with an ancient, alien legacy.

Though the original Blue Planet predates many of these titles, the setting is evoked by the movies Avatar, Blade Runner and Outland, the television series The Expanse, Firefly and Earth II and the books Legacy of Heorot, Songs of Distant Earth and the Mars Trilogy. A reviewer once gave a glib but accurate elevator pitch for Blue Planet as "Space marshal Cowboy and his cybernetic dolphin sidekick fight eco-crimes in alien Hawaii."

The Full Premise

Blue Planet's uniqueness and enduring appeal are in its deep, realistic, hard science fiction setting, and to really describe it requires more than a few sentences. For those new to the waterworld, we recommend exploring the more detailed premise here.

This campaign will fund the production of a new third edition of the critically acclaimed Blue Planet roleplaying game. We’ve brought Blue Planet to Kickstarter because we're excited to make the definitive edition of the game, but we need your help to do that.

We want to design a uniquely beautiful, full-color, two-volume, 600-page masterpiece, overflowing with evocative art, captivating text, and exceptional production values. We want to make the books themselves works of art with UV cover highlights, endpaper maps and page-marking ribbons. We want to fill them with a new rules set, stunning art, expansive color maps and compelling new locations, social structures, future technologies and alien secrets.

These features and content exceed our capacity to resource on our own, so we are here asking you to join the Blue Planet team and help us make the new version of this classic game truly exceptional.

Download the Blue Planet: Recontact Quickstart Guide here. This 80+ page, full color primer is free and contains the new version of the rules, a setting sampler and a demo scenario called "Trouble in Paradise," complete with ready-to-play characters.

The Recontact project includes

• An extensive evolution of the core mechanics, taking advantage of two decades of RPG development. The new system can be found here in our free, 80+ page Recontact primer.

• All new, full-color artwork bringing the waterworld to life in stunning, evocative imagery.

• Full-color world and regional maps, including submarine geography, redesigned and rendered by professional cartographer and game designer Mark Richardson (Green Hat Design).

• A series of campaign archetypes to help moderators jumpstart their games in the vast adventure space of Poseidon (see below).

• Updated speculative technologies.

• New sociopolitical systems, organizations, institutions and conflicts.

• New locations, settlements and facilities.

The Recontact project does not include

• Fundamental changes to the core sociopolitical tensions - the themes will remain staunchly pro-environmental and anti-colonial.

• Timeline advancements - the setting was originally - and intentionally - poised on a sociopolitical precipice, rife with plot and storytelling potential, and we want to maintain that same narrative tension.

• Global rewrites of the setting material - though updates, sensitivity edits and additions are being made throughout, we believe Blue Planet’s deep setting is why the game has endured, and so we are not making major alterations to that essential content.

A word about the delivery date

We know a reward delivery date of October 2022 seems unexpectedly far away. Though we intend to deliver Blue Planet sooner, our experience, and the last year in particular, have proven an essential truth about Kickstarter management - set a generous delivery date, then add six months. We hope this date does not discourage folks from becoming backers, but instead demonstrates our commitment to realistic planning and transparent communication.

All reward tiers (digital and physical) will receive PDFs of the out-of-print Blue Planet books the day after the campaign ends. Single book pledges will receive the corresponding v2 PDF, and book set pledges will receive copies of everything ever published for the line. All 10 past Blue Planet titles - over 1700 pages of waterworld adventure - as immediate rewards!

First edition Blue Planet, Archipelago, Access Denied, v2 Blue Planet Player's and Moderator's Guides, Fluid Mechanics, First Colony, Frontier Justice, Natural Selection and Ancient Echoes.

Blue Planet has received broad acclaim, particularly for its deep, detailed, and realistic setting, and has remained well regarded since its original publication. However, that publication was almost 25 years ago, and in the intervening decades, all versions have gone out of print and game design has evolved dramatically. We are therefore excited at the prospect of giving the game system an overdue overhaul and the opportunity to share Blue Planet with a new generation of players.  

More personally, Blue Planet features critical environmental themes, presenting a precarious future threatened by the dire consequences of ecological collapse. If issues like biodiversity loss, ocean acidification and climate change were only obscure concerns within the scientific community 25 years ago, they are now clear and present existential threats to the human species. This new edition will let us add our own small voice to those demanding true stewardship of our original blue planet.

Compelled by these reasons, the original creators at Biohazard Games have teamed up with publisher Gallant Knight Games to produce a modern edition of this classic RPG.

Recontact is the in-game term for the fateful day in 2165 when the UNSS Admiral Robert Perry entered orbit around Poseidon, “reestablishing contact” with Earth 69 years after the original colonists were abandoned. Given that more than two decades have passed since the publication of the first edition of Blue Planet, RECONTACT seemed a fitting subtitle for this new version of the game.

Anyone familiar with Blue Planet v2’s Synergy rules will recognize the new system as a modern evolution of those mechanics, sharing a little of that design's genetics and the same intent to support the hard science realism of the setting. Players will also find the new system is simultaneously simpler and more robust, while supporting richer, more evocative character creation that's focused as much on who characters are as what characters can do.

Characters have 4 attributes with optional foci and up to 8 skill sets - areas of expertise based on player-generated descriptors that evoke a character’s origins, training, occupation and experiences. The core mechanic is roll ≤ (attribute rank)+(skill set rank). The roll is made with either 1, 2 or 3 d10, depending upon whether the general, core or specialty in a given skill set is being used. For those who know v2, these elements should seem familiar. There are fewer attributes, but they work similarly, and the variable dice pool is a streamlined take on the aptitude mechanic. The skill sets are simultaneously simpler and more robust than the long list of specific aptitudes and skills in the 2nd edition.

Blue Planet does remain a realistically dangerous game, keeping the  wound levels and trauma tests from the 2nd edition. Weapons and sea monsters are therefore quite deadly, so characters should try to avoid getting shot. Or eaten.

The new mechanics also lean in to the qualitative roleplaying aspects of modern character design, providing Tags, Tracks and Ties unique to each player's character concept and each moderator's campaign. The emphasis is as much on who a character is as what they can do.

Tags are specific consequences, benefits, convictions, motivations or other active descriptors that a character incurs during their adventures - generally the result of narrative events, important tests, fallout from interactions with other characters and injuries.

Tracks model the range of specific character emotions, attitudes and mental states. They are usually campaign or party specific and can be offered by the moderator or created by the players for their party or their individual characters.

Ties describe a character’s primary relationships, identifying the people and organizations to whom the character is connected, as well as the nature of the obligations they must meet to maintain those relationships.

The only consistent criticism Blue Planet has received over the years is that the setting is so vast and wide open, it’s often challenging for game moderators to know where to start. They struggle to choose a single campaign current from among the sea of ideas in the setting. Blue Planet: Recontact will therefore provide a diverse set of campaign archetypes to provide ready-made options for GMs new to the game.

It’s common practice for RPG books to present a range of character archetypes, providing players with detailed examples of the kinds of PCs available to play. These campaign archetypes are similar in that they offer guidance for a variety of different adventure types that can be run in the world of Blue Planet, providing GMs with starting points, directions and enough details to get a variety of different campaigns underway. Each archetype outlines a premise, PC suggestions, unique NPCs, key locations, resources, themes, and plot threads from which a GM can build their perfect Blue Planet campaign.

Read the full first example - Red Sky Charters - in the Recontact Primer here.

Kickstarter campaign ends: Wed, May 5 2021 3:00 AM BST

Website: [Biohazard Games] [Biohazard twitter] [Gallant Knight Games] [Gallant Knight twitter]

[higuchimon]

[fanfic] Osiris Red Hot Springs

i"Come on!" Juudai dragged on Manjoume's coat. Manjoume tried to pry him off but he wasn't having a great deal of luck with it. Juudai seemed more like an octopus than anything else, grabbing and insisting that Manjoume come along with him.

"What are you talking about?" Manjoume grumbled. He'd intended to stay in his room and get some rest. Unfortunately, he'd needed to go out and get food since Osiris Red didn't offer room service like a reasonable dorm. He'd barely started to eat what they'd served him - did it really count as food? - before Juudai popped up, babbled something about showing him the "hidden wonders of Osiris Red" and dragged him away.

"Didn't you hear me?" Juudai's eyes twinkled at him. Manjoume didn't think anyone's eyes could have twinkled, but Juudai's did. Not a single bit of brains in there, but plenty of fluff, and more than enough strength to haul him along to wherever Juudai wanted to go. "We're going to see the hidden wonders of Osiris Red! Have you ever been to the hot springs?"

"Of course I have!" Manjoume snorted. He would have crossed his arms over his chest if Juudai didn't have a grip on his arm. "The Obelisk Blue hot springs are some of the best hot springs ever!"  He would know.  He'd been to some of the most fantastic hot springs in all of Japan.  Obelisk Blue's springs ranked in the top five in his opinion.

"Not those!" Juudai waved his free hand dismissively, as if the Obelisk Blue hot springs weren't worth his time. Clearly he'd never seen them.  "I mean the Osiris Red hot springs!"

There were several springs on the island. Two for the Blue dorm, one for the Yellow dorm, and Manjoume guessed it wasn't such a strange idea that Red also had one. There were plenty of them on the island in general. There was even two in the main building itself, one near the infirmary and one somewhere else, for the teachers. The other hot springs were reserved for specific dorms. The one near the infirmary could be accessed by anyone at all, regardless of dorm. He'd visited it once or twice, but he'd always preferred using the Obelisk Blue hot springs.

But right now, Manjoume's lip curled faintly. "What's so special about that?" He could imagine what it would be like. Just because it was a hot spring didn't mean that it would be what he was used to - a beautiful work of art, with polished statues and spigots emitting a variety of lovely scents and soaps and lotions, with many helpful attendants who'd scrubbed his back, scrubbed between his toes, and offered a vast array of snacks and drinks to choose from while he'd enjoyed himself, as well as soft, heated, and scented towels. He'd spent many lovely hours in there, soaking up water and sunlight alike. It was even better than at home.  He was going to miss not being able to go there. 

What would the Osiris Red springs be like? Small, he decided, and probably dark. Busted light bulbs and it probably hadn't been properly scrubbed in a while. He'd seen the Osiris Red showers and they were tolerable. Someone clearly went to a lot of effort to keep them clean, though Manjoume had no idea of why. They were Red. No one would care if it all piled up. Someone probably just didn't want to go to the extra effort that would result by ignoring it.

Juudai kept on dragging him through the trees. Manjoume tried to get his arm free but nothing he did actually worked. He probably could have tried harder, but the farther they went into the woods, the harder it was to see where they were going.  He didn't have the faintest idea of where they were going and unfortunately, Juudai's grip on his arm was the only thing that kept him from being utterly lost.

"Where are you taking me?" Manjoume finally snapped out the question. He wasn't sure if he expected a proper answer or not.  "This isn't where the hot springs are!" Though to be fair, he didn't really know where they were. He just sort of knew they existed. But he did know they weren't half an hour’s walk into the woods!

"I told you!" Juudai declared. "It's the Osiris Red hot springs." He made a face, something like what Manjoume thought he looked like when Juudai turned up at his door.  "Not those tiny ones, though. That's boring."

Oh, no. Manjoume groaned quietly. Juudai was taking him somewhere else. No one else knew they were out here. Marufuji was busy studying - he needed all the help he could get - and Maeda was drawing or something. Manjoume wasn't at all sure why he was drawing, but because he was, it was just the two of them out here. That wasn't how Manjoume looked forward to spending any amount of time.

Before he could stop long enough to express his distaste for that, Juudai lifted a branch out of the way and Manjoume could see clear space beyond. After grass tufts catching his feet and twigs and branches lodging themselves in his hair, bugs helping themselves to his sweat and trying to do the same to his blood, he couldn't have been more glad to see a clearing. Instead of holding back, he surged forward, going past Juudai and stumbling to a halt.

"Here we are!" Juudai declared, spreading his arms wide as if to embrace the whole area,  and even worse, as if he'd invented this entire place out of whole cloth. "This is the official Osiris Red hot springs! At least as far as I'm concerned."

Manjoume slowly looked around. The hot springs on Duel Academia that he knew something about were all enclosed in buildings of various sorts.  They had windows and doors.  Obelisk Blue had rugs in the antechamber.

This place didn't.  This was a wide pool set beside some moss-covered cliffs. He could hear water falling from somewhere out of sight. Large rocks rose out of the steaming water and there was a spread of sand on one side that would do for a beach.

There were several rocks close enough to climb on and still be in the water. Manjoume looked all the way around as slanted rays of sunlight arched into the area, sending up sparkles from the water as they struck it. If he hadn't known better, he would have actually called it beautiful. But he wasn't going to call it beautiful if Juudai liked it.  Juudai didn't have taste.  If he liked it, there was clearly something wrong with this place.  Manjoume just didn't know what it was yet.

"You have got to be kidding me," he muttered, gripping onto the towel Juudai had tossed to him when first taking him on this wild ride. He knew his luck wasn't that good, though, not when Juudai merrily tossed his clothes off and died into the wide pool - perhaps more accurately called a lake.  He looked as if he were actually happy doing this, instead of being in a proper hot springs!  Had Juudai ever been to a proper hot springs?  Probably not.

There wasn't any soap that he could see. The only towels were the ones that they'd brought with them. Certainly not a single attendant to wash between his toes or wash his hair or do anything. He'd been getting more used to doing things himself and he rather liked the feeling that came with learning to do for himself.  His brothers would never approve. Yet day by day he cared less and less what they thought. There wasn't much that they could do regardless. Try as they might, they couldn't even cut him off from his share of the money. Their parents' will made sure that was impossible.

He could have bought all those cards that they'd wanted to give him. He could have bought virtually any card that he wanted - he tried not to think about their ill-fated attempt to purchase the legendary Gem Beast deck - but that didn't make a good duelist. He'd learned that the long, slow, and hard way. What made a great duelist was the ability to forge winning combos from nothing at all.

He was getting very good at that.  He was a good duelist.  He was going to be a great one.  He would be better than they ever dreamed of, and they would beg for his help instead of assuming that they would get it no matter what.  Even better, he might not give it to them. 

"Come on, Manjoume!" Juudai waved at him, pulling Manjoume out of his thoughts before he could fully be absorbed into his fantasy of his brothers begging for his talents. "Come on in, the water's fine! We can wash each other's back later!  I haven't seen the bear around here in ages!"

Manjoume snorted as he headed towards the water. As if he'd ever wash Juudai's back or let Juudai wash his own. One good bath and that would be it. Maybe a little sunning afterwards. He'd gotten a little paler on his trip up north.

But nothing else. He could learn things in Red, but this was only a single stopping point on his way back to Blue.

Then he stopped.  "Juudai?  Did you say bear?"

The End

Notes: No, Manjoume didn’t get eaten by the bear. Neither did Juudai. The bear is friendly.

[teacupfulofstarshine]

LOVELY, DARK, AND DEEP: CHAPTER 8

cw: mild angst, injury mention, vivisection mention, human experimentation mention, boatloads of unethical science

chapter 1 // chapter 2 // chapter 3 // chapter 4 // chapter 5 // chapter 6 // chapter 7 // read it on ao3!!

wordcount: 7086

“This is a terrible idea,” Thomas says. It is far from the first time he has said this to Virgil, generally speaking. It is also far from the first time he has said this to Virgil regarding this specific situation. This does not deter Virgil in the slightest. Logan looks up at Virgil from where he’s curled on the lab table, newly-human legs tucked up underneath his newly-human butt. 

“I would like to learn to walk,” he says. “I think it is a valuable skill to have, even if I do not intend to live on the land for the rest of my life. If I am to return to visit, and -” Logan’s eyes flicker away from Virgil’s face and rest on his shoulder, face heating up. “- and I would very much like to, it would benefit me to be able to masquerade as a human. I find walking essential to this charade.” 

“There are plenty of humans who don’t walk,” Virgil says. “Babies can’t walk, and elderly people sometimes can’t walk, and there’s any number of disabilities that might prevent someone from walking. Walking isn’t what makes us human.” 

Logan’s eyes meet his, and Virgil fights the blush rising on his cheeks with every fiber of his being. “What is it, then?”

“Walking?”

“No. What is it that makes you human that I do not have?” 

“Jesus, Lo, I don’t think ten thousand years of human philosophy has managed to answer that, and you want me to give you an answer now?” Logan tilts his head, confused and adorable, and Virgil is talking before he realizes it, rambling and spilling words out of his mouth like tap water cascading down a sink. 

“Being human isn’t about walking like a human or talking like a human or anything like that. Humans are so vast and diverse, and - and it’s like the ocean, you know? All those creatures are so different, with different methods of eating and sleeping and breathing and living and dying, and it’s - it’s not like you can just put one label over them that will encompass the spirit of what makes the sea the sea, or what makes a human a human. It’s - it’s -” 

He pushes his fingers through his hair, greasy from two days without a shower. “It’s about your capacity to care . It’s about your ability to look at someone else, anyone else, and acknowledge that they deserve everything you do. They deserve to live, they deserve to love and grow and thrive and be . Being human, it’s - it’s about looking at someone else and knowing that inside them is a person just as complex and mysterious and weird and wild and wonderful as you are, and they’ve got just as much depth and personhood and emotion and life as you do, even though they might be your polar opposite.” 

“So being human,” Logan says quietly, “is about being able to recognize your own complexities in another?” 

“If you wanna put it like that? Yeah, I guess.” 

“I suppose I am more human than I ever realized before, then.”

“I don’t think that’s a bad thing,” Virgil says, and he takes a step towards Logan. Logan looks up at him, eyes wide and trusting and open, and Virgil holds a hand out. “I don’t think it’s bad at all. I know you’re all scared of us, because of what we could do to you, but - but I hope you can trust that the Doc and I, we - we don’t want to hurt you. We don’t want to let anything happen to you. You deserve security and stability, and if we can help give you that, we will.” 

Logan studies him for a moment with bright, critical eyes, and Virgil finds that he’s unconsciously holding his breath. Slowly, cautiously, Logan lifts his hand and places it into Virgil’s, and Virgil smiles, and Logan’s face breaks into a gentle smile, and Virgil has to fight very hard not to lean in and kiss him. (He pretends that he doesn’t see Thomas standing behind Logan, making very obvious mocking heart noises.) 

He holds out his other hand for Logan to take, and Logan doesn’t hesitate to place his hand in Virgil’s. They were scaled, before, but now every place a midnight blue scale used to live has, instead, a freckle. Virgil wonders how long it would take to count them all. 

(He definitely doesn’t think about laying in bed with Logan, holding him close, breath mingling in the space between their faces, sleepily trailing his index finger over the freckles covering Logan’s entire body, connecting them like constellations. He doesn’t think about trading stories with Logan, sleepily explaining his world’s constellations and heroes and myths as Logan does the same. He doesn’t think about Logan, laying on the bed and looking up at Virgil with the same open trust he’s displaying now as Virgil takes out a paintbrush and lovingly, painstakingly, connects each and every freckle into a beautiful portrait that, even in full glory, could never hope to match or even rival the splendor that is Logan himself, masterpiece untainted.)

(Virgil does not think about any of these things.) 

Carefully, he steps backward, holding Logan’s hands and pulling gently so that Logan rises into a standing position. He’s wobbly and unsure, like a newborn fawn, and Virgil quickly shifts so that he’s gripping Logan’s forearms instead of holding his hands. “Whoa, careful!” 

“I will never get used to these useless fins,” Logan mutters, glaring at his legs. “They are so unwieldy, and I have to concentrate on moving both of them instead of just one! I do not like it. I have decided.” 

Roman snickers from his touch tank, and music rises from Patton’s. “It’s hard for baby humans to learn to walk, too,” Virgil says, ignoring the other mer and focusing on Logan. “Kids fall all the time. It’s not about never falling. It’s about getting back up and trying again. Besides, I’m right here the whole time. You don’t have to worry, I won’t let you fall.” 

“I trust you,” Logan says, simply and honest and open, and Virgil feels a little something inside of him shift at such a plain display of trust. “I cannot see you very well, but I trust you.”

“What do you mean, you can’t see me?”

“I find that anything not directly in front of my face is very . . . blurry at the moment. I have lived with this my entire life. I had my electricity to compensate for this in the water, but now I have nothing.” 

“So what you’re telling me is you need glasses?” 

“What is ‘glasses’?”

“How are we supposed to get him those?” Thomas says. “He can barely walk, and he doesn’t know enough about human culture to pass for one. As far as the government’s concerned, he doesn’t even exist!” 

“Yeah, I know that, but he needs to be able to see, Doc.” 

“You’re gonna jeopardize his existence for that?” 

“Of course not!” Virgil snaps. “I’m just saying, it’s something we have to think about if he’s gonna be spending any sustained amount of time in a human form!” He takes a careful, slow step backwards, then another, then another. Logan mirrors him with an unsteady, slow step forwards, then another, then another. 

“I just want you two to be safe,” Thomas sighs. 

“I’m not a child,” Virgil mutters rebelliously. Before Thomas can retort, Roman drapes himself over the side of his tank and offers a spine about the length of his forearm to Thomas. 

“Do you still want this?” 

“Did you fire that at the tank?”

“Nah. I just kinda wiggled it around for a while until it popped out. They get loose and fall out sometimes, it’s not a new thing or anything.” Thomas takes the red-and-white spine and steps to the nearest lab table. He pulls out a scalpel and starts to carefully dissect the spine, looking for the poison inside it. 

Virgil turns his focus back to helping Logan. “I know it’s hard,” he says, holding his hands. “The amount of injury small humans sustain when they’re first learning how to walk is truly staggering. Hold on to me, okay? I won’t let you fall too far.” 

Logan looks at him with wide eyes. “What if I hurt you?” 

“You won’t, Lo. Trust me.” 

They practice walking back and forth across the lab floor for almost an hour. Roman makes unhelpful comments from his tank, and Virgil makes rude gestures at him. The gestures are somewhat less effective than normal, because Roman doesn’t understand what “flipping someone off” means, but it makes Virgil feel better, so he keeps doing it. Logan slowly improves as they keep practicing. 

“You know what would make you better at this?” Virgil asks. Logan shakes his head. “Being able to see properly.” 

“We are not taking the newly-humanoid merman to the optometrist,” Thomas says firmly. 

“Well, what the hell else are we supposed to do with him? We can’t just let him be on land half blind, Doc!” Virgil protests. 

“We can’t just let him get captured by the local cryptid hunter because you drag him into town, either.”

“First of all, I’m the local cryptid hunter, so Logan will be fine. Second of all, he needs to be able to see!” Virgil squeezes Logan’s hands tightly before he can consciously process what he’s doing, as though intending to reassure him. Before he can panic too hard about what he’s just done, Logan squeezes back. 

“I appreciate your concern,” Logan says softly. “I think your mentor may be right. It may be too dangerous to bring me into town and expose me to copious amounts of humans. I cannot say that I am not nervous about the idea of being exposed to more of them.” 

“I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable,” Virgil says, and immediately he’s swarmed with a surge of guilt. He’s basically been talking about Logan like he’s not even here, like his own opinions on what they do with him doesn’t matter, and God, how shitty does Virgil have to be? 

“I know you did not mean to,” Logan says. Virgil barely restrains a wince. 

“But I did,” he says. “And I didn’t mean to. I - I’m sorry, Logan. I didn’t mean to make it sound like we were making arbitrary decisions about you like you’re not conscious and opinionated.” 

“I am not mad,” Logan says. He looks puzzled that Virgil thinks he is. “I did not think you were maliciously attempting to control me.” He tilts his head adorably. It takes every ounce of self-control Virgil possesses (which isn’t much) not to gently squish his cheeks and kiss him senseless. (He’s not even sure if mermen know what kissing is.) 

“Well this is . . . concerning.” 

For a split, horrible second, Virgil thinks that Thomas is referring to him and the way he is very obviously ogling over Logan. His mind races to come up with some sort of defense, some explanation, but when he lifts his head he realizes that is not the case. Thomas is frowning at his laptop. 

“What is it, Doc?” 

“Get Logan somewhere he can sit and come over here. The results are back from the toxins in Logan’s net.” Roman’s entire body bristles like a sea urchin in his tank at the mention of the tank Logan was in; the color drains from Logan’s face and he goes perfectly ramrod-still. His hands are shaking, and Virgil smooths his thumb over Logan’s bandaged knuckles before he can stop himself. 

“It’s going to be okay,” he says, carefully guiding Logan back to the lab table. He slips an arm under Logan to hoist him up onto the table. Logan curls his hands in the hem of his shirt and very deliberately breathes deeply. “We won’t let you or your pod get hurt.”

Logan still looks terrible, and before Virgil can stop himself, he says, “Do you want a hug?” 

“A . . . hug?”

“Yeah, it’s - Christ, how do I - you put your arms around someone and squeeze, it’s a comfort thing, I -”

“I know what a hug is,” Logan interrupts. “I receive them from my dad and brother frequently.” Virgil’s face burns bright with shame. “What I meant was . . . was why?” 

Virgil blinks. “Because you’re upset. And that makes me upset, cause I don’t like it when the people I care about are upset. Hugs make people feel less upset.” 

“You care about me?” Virgil thinks about how nice it would be if the earth swallowed him whole in this exact moment. 

“Yeah. We . . . we’re friends, aren’t we?” 

Logan stares at him for a moment, and then his eyes soften and crinkle and he smiles. “Yes,” he says softly. “We are. I think I would like a hug.” 

Virgil leans forward, carefully wrapping his arms around Logan’s chest and hugging him close. Logan loops his arms around Virgil’s neck. He’s trembling, and he smells like fish and saltwater and seaweed. Virgil’s smelled some variation of this combination for the past several years, being a marine biologist and all that, and he’s largely desensitized to the way the ocean smells. But there’s some sort of undercurrent to the way Logan smells - something raw and fresh and dangerous and almost electric, the way the air smells right before a thunderstorm. 

Logan pats his shoulder gently and starts to lean back, and Virgil gives him one more gentle squeeze before leaning away. He doesn’t want to be weird about it, after all. 

“Thank you,” Logan says. Virgil takes his hand and squeezes it. 

“Yeah, Lo. Of course.” 

Roman reaches to gently squeeze Logan’s ankle, and a large, clawed hand comes up out of Patton’s tank and gently holds Logan’s hand. Virgil hurries over to Thomas and peers at the screen. “What did the results say?” 

Thomas frowns. “It’s not good. We were right, it was a neurotoxin, but there’s something wrong with it.” 

“Yeah, it was in a net that injured and almost killed someone.”

“No, it’s more than that. It’s derived from natural sources, but this toxin, it’s - it’s just . . .” Thomas pushes a hand through his hair. “It has genetic markers for multiple species of aquatic life. I picked out jellyfish and pufferfish DNA, specifically.” 

“Fucking yikes.” 

“Oh, it gets worse. There’s no way this DNA could have come from a genetically stable or viable hybrid. It’s like . . . it’s like someone took the genetic sequences for the deadliest, most dangerous marine toxins they could isolate and crammed them all together to make some kind of - of - of super poison or something. They weren’t trying to make a new life-form. They just wanted to create the most toxic thing they could, and I think they succeeded. It’s a miracle this net didn’t kill Logan outright.” 

Roman makes a loud, angry noise from his tank; a melodic snarl rises from Patton’s; Logan shudders and curls his free arm tightly around himself. Virgil’s blood runs cold at the thought. “What would it take to do something like that, Doc?” 

“Whoever this was did a pretty crude job of it,” Thomas sighs. “All the splicing is haphazard, and it’s honestly a miracle they managed to make this stable enough to do damage to any organism.” 

“Still, the fact they made this . . . who knows what else they may have done?” Virgil asks.

“I don’t know.” Thomas drags his hand down his face, and he looks older than Virgil’s ever seen him. “This - this is the most unethical application of science I’ve seen in a long time. I hate to think about what else this person might be doing.” 

“What about Roman’s spine?” Virgil asks. “Any results there?” 

Thomas nods. “Yeah. Whatever’s in his spines is far less lethal than the hybrid shit in that net. It’s more focused on paralysis and incapacitation.”

“Well, yeah, I could have told you that,” Roman huffs crossly. “I use it to stun prey so that I can catch and kill it more easily. That’s what it’s for .” 

Thomas is still frowning worriedly at the spine. “Doc, what’s wrong?” 

“Roman’s poison . . . based on my analysis, in the hands of someone who can use CRISPR technology, it could be altered to produce far more devastating effects. If whoever set this net gets their hands on Roman, the experiments they run could prove disastrous.” 

“Roman getting captured at all would be disastrous,” Virgil says. He dimly notices that Roman looks shocked to see Virgil defend him. “We can’t let anyone else know about these three. They belong in the ocean, and anyone else would try and keep them prisoner on land.” Virgil’s heart wrenches at that; he’s been ignoring that Logan will eventually have to leave, and he’s not about to start thinking about it now.

“I want to run more tests on the net that Logan got tangled in,” Thomas says. “If we can break down the technology of the barbs, we may be able to trace the origins of the net.” 

“What would we do when we found those origins?” Virgil asks. Thomas exhales. 

“I don’t know exactly. I just . . . we’d have to do something. We can’t do nothing. That’s not an option.” 

“I agree,” Virgil says. Thomas smiles, and Virgil feels pride bubble up in his throat. 

“I want to compare the net toxin to Roman’s, too. Maybe comparative analysis will help me learn something about both of them.” 

“Again, you could just ask me,” Roman grouses. 

“I probably will, once I develop a detailed questionnaire,” Thomas says. “But there’s also examinations and comparisons that we can make at the molecular level that we can’t get from just talking to you.” 

“What in the name of the Seven Mother Goddesses is a molecular?” Roman says. Logan turns to him, eyes wide and curious, and the tip of Patton’s head pokes up from his tank. He has their undivided attention. 

Virgil never thought he would be trying to teach sixth-grade biology to a trio of mermen, one of whom he’s extremely gay for and another one who’s older than human civilization, but here he is. What the fuck is his life, anyway? 

*~*~*~*

“See to it that this chamber is thoroughly cleaned and sterilized in time for my next experiment. And be sure to inform the crew that I want the excess waste disposed of discreetly this time, or they will find that they have been disposed of discreetly.” 

The secretary nods, obediently sending the orders as she peels off the blood-stained rubber gloves and tosses them into the biohazard waste receptacle. “Was the experiment a success, ma’am?” 

“If by success, you mean did the poison have the effect I intended, no. However, I believe I have isolated the patch of incorrect genetic code, which means that I will be able to improve the efficacy for next time. I doubt I would have found that on my own, so in that sense, yes. It was a success.” 

The secretary notes this on her tablet. “Tell me, what is the status of our acquisition of the human subjects?” 

“Approximately 79% of the specimens you request have been corralled and sedated. They await testing in Chamber C whenever you are ready, ma’am.” 

“And the rest?” 

“Being gathered as we speak, from the usual sources.” She nods, washing her hands and switching her anti-slip laboratory shoes for her characteristic red heels. “I have an alert set to ping when the shipment comes in. I will alert you at once.” 

“Excellent.” She steps out of the lab. Her heels click satisfyingly on the floor, and she tilts her head up. “Walk with me. Run through the list of current projects and update me on the status.” 

“At once, ma’am. Which one shall I begin with?” 

“Tests of the aerosol form of the net toxin. How have the lab rats fared?” 

“Only a 50% mortality rate, but that is higher than we had initially predicted.” She hums noncommittally, and the secretary continues, pulling up the file on her tablet. She continues to talk about the status of the aerosol experiment until they reach the private office, laid with marble. 

She walks over to the windows overlooking the ocean, hands clasped behind her back. “What of the fleet of drones? Have they discovered anything yet?” 

The secretary swipes a few pages on her screen. “Not yet, ma’am. A whole fleet was dispatched to cover the quadrant where net 17-C was located, as well as the surrounding areas in case our calculations were off. A team is monitoring the feedback round the clock, and they will alert me with the most urgent priority if they find something.” 

“Excellent.” She stares out the window, lost in thought, and the secretary gathers what little courage she has. 

“Ma’am, if - if I may ask a question?” 

“You already have.” The secretary’s blood runs like ice, but she merely laughs. “Continue.” 

“Why are you so invested in relocating this net? You seem so adamant that you’ve caught something valuable, but why not set another net and attempt to catch another?” 

She is silent for a long time. The secretary swallows. “I - I did not mean to offend, ma’am -”

“Silence.” She falls silent instantly. “Have I ever told you why it was here that I set up my facility? Why it could not possibly have been anywhere else in the world?” 

“No, ma’am.” 

“My family,” she says, “used to vacation at the beaches around here. I loved the beach when I was small. I loved collecting creatures from the tide pools and seeing how they worked. One day, I saw the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on in my life. It was a merman, with a beautiful red and white tail and spines everywhere. He was sunning himself on the beach in the early morning.” 

The secretary’s eyes widen. “I had to have him. I tried to get him to come with me, to get him to tell me how he worked, to get some of his spines, but it failed.” She rolls up the sleeve of her blazer and shows the secretary two perfect half-moons of faint, raised white scars on her arm. Bite marks. 

“That monster bit me and disappeared into the sea. I never saw him again. How dare he?!” She yanks her sleeve down and covers her arm again, snarling. “But it’s alright! It’s fine. I will find that traitorous merman again, and it will be my pleasure to exact revenge on him. I will vivisect him slowly and painfully and I will finally gain the knowledge which has been denied to me for so many years.” 

Privately, the secretary is suspicious of this plan. She isn’t sure if she believes the story about the merman, but the evidence of scars is difficult to refute. Still, she knows it’s not wise to disagree with her publicly (or even privately), so instead, she says, “That makes sense, ma’am.” 

“I hate not knowing things,” she seethes. “Knowledge is the epitome of human power. I will gain as much knowledge as I can, and then I will have the greatest weapon and the greatest shield in all of human history. I will not let some fish keep me from knowing all there is to know.” 

The secretary wonders how long this train of thought is going to keep up, and then the tablet in her arms begins to shriek. She begins swiping at the screen, frantically sifting through the sudden influx of error messages. 

“What is it?” 

“Reports from the lab - the drone monitoring squad, they - one of the drones caught something on camera -”

She whirls around, and the secretary startles and nearly drops her tablet. “Take us there at once!” 

“Yes, ma’am!” The elevator ride down to the monitoring room is tense. She can’t seem to stand still, tapping her feet and her fingers and all but vibrating with energy. The secretary bites her lower lip and sifts through the reports, trying to figure out what exactly is happening. 

She sprints down the corridor, the secretary hurrying behind her, and throws open the door to the monitoring room. Everyone in it jumps, and before she can say anything one of them throws an image up onto the wall of screens. 

It shows what looks like a young man, frowning at the feed, before swinging the lower half of his body up and around to reveal a gorgeous red-and-white-patterned tail, covered in long, sharp spines. He brings his tail down in a graceful, vicious motion, and the spines jettison from his tail and pierce through the camera lens. The feed glitches, staticky, and then cuts out. 

SIGNAL FAILED flashes across the screen in bright red letters. 

She rests her hands on the nearest table, ducking her head down. Her shoulders begin to shake, and the secretary sees every single person in the room swallow in unison. They’re all terrified, and she is too. Every person in this room is about to get fired or mysteriously vanish or both. 

Without warning, she throws her head back, and - and she’s - 

Laughing?

Wild, raucous laughter, bordering on a shriek, bordering on hysteria, the kind of laughter you’d expect to hear from a portrayal of someone who’s criminally insane in a movie. The secretary holds her breath. 

“I knew it!” she shrieks, slamming a hand down on the table. Everyone in the room flinches. “This is proof that there are mermen in this ocean, and I will have him if it kills me!” 

She whirls around to face the secretary, eyes wide and wild and slightly unhinged. “I want at least two more fleets of stealth drones dispatched to those coordinates. Get me as much information as you can. And you!” She points at a random technician. “Isolate the footage of that mer and send it to my office immediately. I want to review it personally.” 

“At - at once, ma’am!” the technician gulps. 

She sweeps out of the lab, dictating to the secretary the whole time. The secretary sends up a whispered prayer to whatever gods intervened to keep them all alive another day and hurries after her.

*~*~*~*~*

Patton has never seen the appeal of a mate. 

He is ancient. He has outlived almost every creature he has ever met. He can dimly remember being a guppy, frolicking about the ocean with the other elder mer, spying on the beginnings of human civilizations when they began to rise. Humans have always congregated around the water, he thinks, and he has seen many stages of human life. 

He has watched humans celebrate the birth of their young at the water. He has watched them come of age, watched them marry, watched them travel, watched them grow their families. He has watched their burial rites, and he has guided many humans safely to the seafloor and given them a final resting place. He has offered many a prayer to the Seven Mother Goddesses for a happy union, asked many a flying fish to guide a human soul safely to the Upper Ocean. 

He has seen pods grow and fight and dwindle and die. He has watched many, many eons of life in the ocean. Never once has he wanted to participate in the creation of more life. He does not want a mate; he has never had the desire for that kind of relationship. 

Patton knows that mates are important to some, but they are not important to him. He does not need a mate the way he needs water in his gills. His pod is very small, and he has no mate, but he is satisfied with his existence thus far. Roman and Logan may not have come from a mate, but they are no less his. 

Patton may not want a mate, but he also knows what mer are like when they want mates. He hears the way Logan and the smaller human - Virgil - speak to each other. He can sense the growing affection in Logan’s voice when he tells him what he and Virgil have done that day and defends Virgil from Roman’s criticisms and shyly tells Patton that he wants to return when he is fully healed. 

The human concept of mates is different from the mer concept. Patton knows this much. He does not know very much about human mating rituals. 

Based on what he does know, he would say that Virgil and Logan share similar tendencies. 

Patton does not particularly care about this fact. He had been quietly accepting that Logan was lost to him forever, that he would never see his guppy again, but this human rescued him. He kept Logan safe, tended his injuries and fed him and sought out Patton and Roman to bring them to Logan. He had stood in front of Patton and sworn that he would return Logan to the ocean once he was healed. Patton knows that he terrifies most humans, but this one had not flinched. His voice had been firm and strong, and he had sworn that Logan would not be a prisoner. 

There are worse humans Logan could want to mate with, Patton supposes. 

Roman sinks below the water of their shared small ocean and grumbles to himself. “The stupid human is making gross faces at Logan,” he huffs. 

“What kind of faces?”

“Gross ones, Dad! He’s like, staring at him with this stupid look and his face keeps going all weird and pink and - ” Roman’s tail bristles with indignation. Patton gently smooths a large hand down his tail, flattening the spines and soothing Roman. He trills, gently, and Roman responds in kind. 

“I suspect he would like to be Logan’s mate.”

“WHAT?!” Roman shrieks. 

“It is not nearly as bad as all that, guppy. Logan wants to be his mate, too. Surely you can see it?”

“Of course I can see it, but - but what does Logan know about mates? Or humans, for that matter?! This is a bad idea, Dad, we have to talk him out of it!”

“Why? Does Logan not seem happy?”

“I - that’s not the point!”

“I asked you a question, guppy.”

Roman’s gills flare out. “Yeah, Dad. Lo seems really happy.”

“Do you not want him to be happy?”

“I don’t want him to leave us.” Roman curls in on himself, and he looks small in a way that Patton has not seen for centuries. 

“Oh, guppy.” Gently, Patton reaches out and traces one finger along the band of light blue scales wrapped around Roman’s upper arm. “Logan loves us. If he had taken a mer for a mate, would you have the same reaction?"

“No, because that mer would just join our pod and it would be fine! But - but what if he decides he doesn’t love us anymore and leaves us for the humans?! ”

“Logan would not do that. He is our podmate, Roman. Even if he wishes to take Virgil as his mate, that cannot change the bonds that we have with him. Logan is not going anywhere.” 

“How are you so sure about this?”

“I have lived many, many centuries,” Patton says, leaning in to gently nuzzle Roman’s hair. “I have seen many matings, human and mer. I have watched their lives play out. I know that the taking of a mate does not necessarily mean the separation from one’s pod. However, if the pod is unnecessarily hostile to the mate, someone may feel the need to choose between their mate and their pod.” 

Roman bristles again. “Am - am I driving Logan away?”

“No, Roman, ” Patton soothes. “ But if you continue to be angry and disparage Logan’s feelings, he may take offense. I am not saying that you must become best friends with Virgil overnight. All I ask is that you keep an open mind about what is to happen, hmm?”

“I only promise to try,” Roman huffs. 

“That is all I can ask.” Patton shifts to coil his large tail around Roman, who lets out a soft chirp and snuggles into Patton’s chest. “I love you, guppy.”

“Love you too, Dad.” 

They doze together for a while until Roman stirs. “One of the humans is here. Not Virgil, the other one - Thomas, I think.” He shifts and swims up, poking his head and torso out of the water. Patton yawns and rises up as well, letting one of the fins on the side of his head breach the water’s surface so that he can hear what is going on. 

“Do you need to go and hunt again?” Thomas asks. “Logan’s getting hungry, and I can go get some of the fish we have in the fridge, but if you all need to hunt anyway you might as well go, y’know?” 

“How would we bring the fish back to Logan?” Roman asks. Patton notices that while his tone is cool, he is no longer being outright rude. 

“I have a woven bag that we use for diving sometimes. You could load that up with fish. Or, if you want, I can drive the boat out and anchor it in the ocean, and you can just dump your catches on the deck so we can bring it back to Logan. Your call.” 

“I will consult my father,” Roman says, dropping back under the water. Patton lets his tail arch up out of the water as a sort of “hello I was listening” to Thomas as he pulls his head back down. 

“What do you think?” he asks Roman. 

“I don’t like the idea of that human following us around,” Roman says. “But I’m not the pod leader, so it’s not my call.”

“Ask him if this ‘boat’ is the thing he was riding on when we first met him,” Patton says. Roman swims up to the surface and drops back down. 

“He says it is.” 

“Ask him which holds more fish.” 

Roman pops up again. “The boat, he says. He also says that we could fill the bag with fish, empty it on the boat, and then bring it back down to fill it with fish again.” 

“I like that idea. Tell him we accept his help.” Roman looks disgruntled, but he still swims up to tell Thomas what Patton has said. 

When Patton lifts his head out of the water, he brings the water with him, wrapping it around his head and neck. The gills along his ribcage flare out angrily when he pulls himself up out of the water, but he ignores it in favor of looking at Logan. His guppy smiles and reaches out to touch his fins gently. 

“Have a plentiful hunt,” Logan says. “Be safe, Dad.” 

“Of course, guppy,” Patton says. 

“The cart is right next to your tank, Patton,” Virgil says. Patton lets out a low, rumbling click and locates the small ocean, carefully lowering his body into it. His gills flare out happily as he submerges in the water, and once the majority of his body is underwater his tail slithers in and curls on top of him. 

The small ocean moves with jerky, hesitant lurches. It is very uncomfortable inside there, and Patton is curled up on top of himself like an eel. He dislikes being in the small ocean for extended periods of time, but if it lets him move freely between the ocean at large and the place where his guppy is, he can tolerate it. 

Once the cart stops moving, Patton feels hands on his tail. They lift him up and over the edge of the small ocean, carefully lowering him down into the real ocean surging up into the grotto. The process continues for a few minutes until hands grip beneath his arms, lifting him up. Patton wraps his gills in water as Virgil lifts him up, groaning under the strain. He all but throws Patton into the water, and Patton inhales sharply as the cool water of the ocean flows around him. 

“Sorry!” he faintly hears Virgil call. Patton lifts one hand up and waves at him, hopefully conveying that he is not mad and unharmed. 

He swims about in the grotto for a little bit until Roman enters the water with a tremendous splash. “Thomas says that he is going to get the boat,” Roman reports. “He will meet us on the open ocean and give us the fish bag.” 

Patton lets Roman lead him out through the little tunnel. He can feel the change in his gills when they swim into open water, and he gleefully pushes forward into a spiral as he lets himself lengthen. Even at his smallest, he is far too big for any of the small oceans the humans attempt to keep him in. He relishes this chance to stretch his fins. 

Roman swirls around him, flaring and flattening his spines in joy. Patton carefully sends a few clicks towards the surface as they swim further out, sensing for Thomas’s boat. He feels Roman swish forward and sees him swim close, dragging a large impaled fish behind him. 

“First catch!”

Patton carefully tears off one of the choicest pieces of the fish and darts down to the sea floor, digging a small hole in the sand and laying the fish inside. He and Roman make short work of what’s left, and Patton lays the skeleton into the hole as well, covering it back up. 

“O Seven Mother Goddesses,” he intones. “Accept this offering and bless our hunt today.” Roman repeats the blessing, pressing one hand against the covered hole, and then they swim off into the ocean. 

When Thomas drops anchor, Patton and Roman swim up to greet him. Patton rises up in a column of water, leaving his larger set of gills submerged in the ocean as he watches Thomas. “Here’s the bag,” Thomas says, handing something to Roman. 

“What will you do while we hunt?” Roman asks. 

Thomas picks up some human thing. “I’m running tests on water samples.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that I’ll be plenty busy while you hunt, and I won’t leave this spot, so you can come and drop off fish whenever you fill up the bag. Are you going to bring all the fish you catch back to the boat?” 

“No,” Roman says. “We usually eat a few while we’re hunting. Dad eats a lot more than us, so he usually eats a lot during the hunt and then he eats with us, too.” 

Thomas nods. “I’ll let you know when the boat reaches capacity, and then we can head back to Virgil and Logan. Sound good?” 

Patton nods when Roman looks to him for confirmation. “Fine.” Roman dives below the waves and Patton sinks down with him. Roman is busy attaching the bag around his torso, making sure that it won’t get in the way of his spines when he hunts. 

“Go ahead and catch something to eat, Dad. I’ll fill the bag for Logan and take it up to the boat, okay?”

“Once I eat, I will help you,” Patton protests. Roman smiles. 

“Take your time, Dad. I’m a good hunter - you trained me, remember?”

Patton smiles fondly. He does remember a tiny Roman, no bigger than his palm at his preferred size, valiantly attempting to chase down and kill prey much bigger than he was. It’s a favorite memory. 

Roman swims off, and Patton sends out exploratory clicks. He locates a school of fish and carefully approaches them, drawing in more and more water as he gathers his strength. Patton carefully coils his tail below him and releases a loud, deafening click. It’s like the normal clicks he uses to see things in the water, but magnified. 

The school of fish scatters, but he manages to stun a solid two thirds of them. They begin to sink, and Patton happily zips back and forth through the school, scooping the little bodies up and crunching on them. Despite the sacrifice he made to the Seven Mother Goddesses, Patton is ancient enough that bones don’t bother him when he eats, especially not for fish so small. 

Patton finds and stuns a few more schools, as well as some larger fish which he brings back to the boat. Thomas seems stunned by the sheer volume of fish he and Roman are collecting, and Patton suspects that the human will have questions about their hunting practices when they return to Logan. He should probably prepare Roman for those questions on the way back, he thinks. 

He’s so distracted that he almost doesn’t notice when a fish gets close to him. That puzzles Patton; most fish avoid him, knowing that they are in the presence of an apex predator. Still, he thinks, food is food. He sends out one of his stunners, but the fish is unaffected. 

That makes his scales itch in a strange way. He tries again, a little louder. The force of the sound knocks the strange fish back a little, but it just keeps approaching. Patton quickly dives below it and emits a low, rumbling distress call to Roman. Whatever this thing is, he wants his guppy close before they deal with it. 

Roman speeds to his side, and Patton points up to the strange fish. “It doesn’t look like a real fish,” Roman murmurs. “No fish I’ve ever seen, anyway. I don’t like it, Dad. I’m gonna go stab it.”

“Be careful,” Patton pleads. “I already have one injured guppy.” Roman nuzzles his face into Patton’s neck for a moment before bending his arms so that the spines on his joints sharpen and stand at attention. 

Patton watches with apprehension as Roman swims up and quickly gets in front of the strange fish. He brings his tail up, spines stiffening, and throws it forward. A few spines jettison out and pierce the strange fish. 

The water crackles and fizzes as the strange fish dies, almost like the water around Logan when he attacks. Roman flinches back from the discharge before swimming up to inspect what he’s just killed. 

“Dad, this isn’t a fish,” he says. Patton swims up quickly. “It looks like a fish, but there’s no meat. There’s no bones. It - it feels like the things the humans use.” Patton touches the strange object and recoils from the smooth, warm sensation. 

“We should get this to Thomas immediately. Maybe he knows more about this thing.” 

“Whatever it is, I have a bad feeling,” Roman says. 

Although he doesn’t say anything, not wanting to frighten his guppy, Patton does, too. 

[akaluan]

Erich/Alexis, 2 and 30, Lust Royale cover? >:) -ser

(Art by ser as usual, lol! Some of these are going to end up with ridiculous ‘cover art’ like this)

(2: Marriage of Convenience, 30: Hot Consort, Erich/Alexis (and extras because polyam))

\\\

“…the promise of lasting alliance between our people…”

Erich resists the urge to sigh by dint of taking a sip of his — now lukewarm — tea, well and truly bored of listening to politicians natter on and not seeing the point of having three Generals present. At his side, General Zettour’s mouth quirks up just enough that Erich knows the man is laughing internally at him, and it makes him almost petulant enough to ‘accidentally’ spill the disgusting brew on his superior.

Except that would get Zettour out of the meeting — if only briefly — and not him.

Frankly, his superior doesn’t deserve the reprieve.

Instead, Erich carefully sets his teacup down and arranges his hands back in his lap, spine straight and head tipped slightly towards the current speaker, every inch the attentive soldier no matter how much the stillness grates at his nature.

(He’s had decades to perfect his guise.)

(He won’t break character just because he’s bored!)

(But maybe some harmless revenge against Zettour, who had gotten him invited to this meeting for some unknown reason…)

(He could do that.)

Across the table and three seats down from him, close to the head of the table, are the two people responsible for the meeting itself: two diplomats from overseas, members of the Shinigami corps of mages from the Akitsushima Dominion. They’re seated next to each other, tall and powerful and beautiful, and Erich…

Erich wants.

He missed their names during the introduction, too captivated by them, by their power, to truly register anything beyond the need to act normal. That he’d fumbled his way through the social niceties without error was down to his training.

That General Rudersdorf had elbowed him in the side and smirked at him was down to the man knowing his tells far too well.

(If he didn’t respect both men so much…)

Erich quietly sighs through his nose and sets those thoughts aside; it doesn’t really matter that his superiors know of his fascination, because they know his true form. They know the why behind his distraction, know he’ll keep his hands — and his powers! — to himself as the ancient covenant between their people agreed, but… well.

There’s no harm in looking, is there?

The one with the waterfall of pristine white hair is beautiful, his smile kind-calm-gentle and his power brimming beneath his skin; he feels like a quiet, clear stream to Erich’s senses, perfect-beautiful-deadly like a mountain stream before a flood. Water might not be Erich’s Element, but the man’s power is so clean, so pure, that it’s hard to resist siphoning some away just to try it.

The man’s partner is rougher but no less gorgeous, his lazy gaze hiding a sharp intelligence and his casual posture belying how alert he is; his power is all sun-dappled shade and vast trunks, like the edges of a deep, primeval forest. The temptation to just take is much less with him than his companion, but… it’s still there, still enticing no matter how little strength he’d gain from it.

He wants like he hasn’t in a long time, like he hasn’t since he and Alexis snatched Kisuke from the shores of a foreign land and claimed him as their consort, as their mage—

The white-haired diplomat catches Erich’s gaze and smiles, a hint of interest-promise-heat in the cast of his expression. It’s enough to tell him he’s been caught — enough to tell him they’ve been watching him and he didn’t notice — and whether or not that smile is an invitation, it’s… it’s…

Embarrassing.

(Who else has noticed him?!)

Erich looks away to the large, clear windows. Breathes through his embarrassment-desire-want. Reminds himself that the men are diplomats, backed by the might of an army of mages who once purged their entire land of Elementals and have kept it that way for centuries. They will neither understand nor agree to any attempt at claiming them, and Erich is here as a General, as a man, his actions bound by the ancient covenant and his position amongst the Empire’s forces.

They believe they are propositioning a human, not a dreaded Elemental.

And in the eyes of those not in the know, he is a married man. To accept an invitation into either of their beds is… shameful. A betrayal of his vows, of his good name—

Motion through the window catches his eye. Makes the breath seize in his throat. Makes him bark out a sharp, “Sir!” even as he ducks, dragging Rudersdorf down with him, reaching for Zettour—

The rambling politician stutters to a halt.

The window shatters.

“Captain Alexis the Charming arrives!”

***

Jyuushiro listens with half an ear to the politician currently speaking, well used to dealing with the sort, and focuses the majority of his attention on subtly watching the young General Rerugen. The man is doing everything in his power to pretend interest in the ongoing speeches, but, well…

::You certainly have an admirer there,:: Shunsui teases him through their mental bond. ::Think we could entice him into bed? He looks like a sweet thing~::

::Shunsui!:: Jyuushiro mentally yelps in mock-offense, barely hiding his amusement at the suggestion. ::And it’s us he’s admiring, not me alone.::

::No, he’s definitely more interested in you, mister powerful exotic mage,:: Shunsui shoots back, eyes flashing with laughter as he glances at Jyuushiro.

::You’re ‘exotic’ too, you know,:: Jyuushiro feels the need to point out, even if he has to concede the point; Rerugen is definitely paying more attention to him than to Shunsui, though he’s subtle enough about it that Jyuushiro doubts anyone but the other two Generals have noticed.

Shunsui’s lips twitch into the barest glimpse of a wicked smile. ::Dare you to approach him after this meeting,:: he suggests. ::I bet you can get him to actually stutter if you turn up the charm a bit.::

Jyuushiro bites back a smile, amused by the idea; Rerugen had been perfectly polite when he was introduced to them at the start of the meeting, poised and collected and capable, but given his current state of fascination…

Well, it didn’t seem too far-fetched of an idea.

With that in mind, Jyuushiro turns his head just enough to actively catch Rerugen’s gaze and smiles at the man, doing his best to entice. Rerugen’s eyes widen and pink dusts his cheeks as he looks away, clearly embarrassed by being caught but just as clearly interested. It’s more than enough evidence for him; even if nothing comes of it, flirting with the young General will be a fun diversion from the tedium of meetings—

“Sir!” Rerugen barks, even as he launches into motion, dragging one of his superiors down with him, reaching for the other—

Wood erupts from the table in front of Jyuushiro as the window near Rerugen shatters inwards and Shunsui reacts instantly to protect them.

“Captain Alexis the Charming arrives!” a voice announces gleefully, accompanied by the heavy tread of boots on stone and the grating of glass as the person strides through it.

Several politicians near him groan softly but relax, shaking their heads as they stand from the floor and begin righting their chairs.

Clearly whatever’s going on is… common? Expected?

(What sort of land is this?)

“Alexis!” Rerugen exclaims, voice climbing in protest. “Alexis! You can’t just invade headquarters like this!”

Jyuushiro darts to his feet, eyes widening at the sight that greets his eyes; there’s a fierce-looking woman pacing towards Rerugen with a wicked smirk on her face, and behind her are four other, equally fierce-looking people. All of them are wearing a mishmash of styles and colors, at once rakish and almost ridiculous, with weapons visible everywhere and jewelry glinting as they move. They’re to a person intimidating, and Jyuushiro can feel their magical strength reaching out to blanket the room in a gesture of possession that not a single person other than he and Shunsui can feel—

All five turn their attention on him, and with a start Jyuushiro recognizes one of them.

“Shihoin?” he asks, incredulous at the sight of a clearly alive, clearly happy Yoruichi Shihoin standing amongst the others. “You… reports said—”

“That I died?” Shihoin finishes for him, a bright grin on her face as she saunters forward with a familiar-unfamiliar rolling gait. “Reports of my demise at sea were greatly exaggerated, I promise you.”

He swallows against the flash of relief that rises; he’s never quite believed the official story of betrayal and experimentation and forbidden techniques to turn mages into elementals, but… even if he had, he’d never have wished her supposed fate on anyone; lost at sea, cast adrift with no chance of rescue, no hope of survival…

“I suppose the others survived too, then?” Shunsui drawls as he edges closer to Jyuushiro, magic rising in silent warning-threat-promise that does nothing but make the attention on them sharpen. Even Rerugen is looking at them with a hint of the same focus-fascination-desire as the other four invaders, and probably-Alexis is looking at the two of them with outright glee.

(His instincts are practically screaming at him.)

(There’s something going on here, something that he’s not understanding.)

(Something dangerous.)

“They did, yes,” Yoruichi agrees with one of the sharpest smiles he’s ever seen on her. “Come to haul us back, have you?”

“They will not,” probably-Alexis barks, command heavy in her voice.

“They’re just diplomats,” Rerugen tries, rising slowly to his feet and lifting his hands in a placating gesture. It’s clear from his stance and his tone that he’s not afraid, that he knows her — probably quite well — and is used to talking her down. “Lexi, it’s—hey!” he nearly shrieks as Alexis grins and swoops in, heaving him up and over her shoulder in a display of strength that makes Jyuushiro’s mouth go dry. “Put me down! Alexis von Rerugen, unhand me immediately!”

“Hmmm… I think not!” Alexis announces as she wraps her arms around his legs, pinning him in place, draped awkwardly across her shoulder like something out of a ridiculous story. “It’s been too long since you came to visit, my love~”

“That’s not— I have a job to do, Alexis!” Rerugen protests as he pushes himself up, body arched and neck exposed, pristine uniform rumpled by the manhandling. Part of his jacket has come untucked, the pale skin of his side visible as he twists in her grip. “Put me down!” he tries to order, voice stern but undercut with a breathy quality that belies his protests.

“General von Rerugen, I believe you have some mandatory time off coming up soon,” General Zettour announces with a level of gravitas that Jyuushiro is certain hides laughter. “Captain Alexis, if you could have your husband returned in a month, I would appreciate it.”

Alexis gives the man a sloppy salute and chirps, “Sure thing!”

“SIR!”

“You’ve been looking a bit peaked lately, General,” Zettour continues airily, ignoring Rerugen’s protest. “A bit of time with your wife will do you good.”

“Speaking of, I think I’ll be taking your two guests as well, sorry!” Alexis announces cheerfully, sounding not at all apologetic. She flashes Jyuushiro a wicked-sharp-pleased smile when he stiffens in realization, then tightens her grip on Rerugen’s legs to hold him more firmly in place when he starts to struggle harder at her words.

“That’s…! They’re diplomats from Akitsushima, Alexis!” Rerugen protests, eyes wide and an edge of panic in his voice. “You can’t just— they won’t— do you really want to invite retaliation from the Shinigami on all of us?!”

Alexis hums and flashes Jyuushiro another smile. “Oh, I think everything will work out. Get ‘em, boys.”

Jyuushiro exchanges a brief look with Shunsui and then moves, using a touch of Wind magic to propel himself away from the invader trying to sweep him up. Another quick-step and he’s at the door—

“Nice try, but I’m still faster,” Shihoin murmurs in his ear as she slaps a suppressor seal on him and sweeps him up into a princess carry, her arms like steel bands around his body. “Trust me, just go with it,” she tells him, waiting out his futile struggles. “Nothing’ll happen to either of you, Captain’s just… curious.”

“Curious?” Jyuushiro asks, keeping his tone as polite as possible. “Shihoin-san, we came here for a reason—”

“You won’t be kept isolated,” Shihoin interrupts him as she hoists him a bit higher and begins to saunter back towards the broken window. “Folks here are used to, ah… interruptions of this nature. They’re good at working around it.”

“Do all official visitors to your country get this treatment?” Jyuushiro can’t help but ask, even as he tries — and fails — to gather his magic.

(Whoever wrote the seal knew what they were doing.)

(Which… really only leaves Urahara as an option.)

(Damn!)

Alexis laughs at his question. “Only the interesting ones!” she tells him with a sharp grin, then turns away to watch her other three crewmembers corner Shunsui.

Rerugen, still slung over her shoulder like a sack of grain, is glowering at the floor, clearly enraged but also… embarrassed? Regretful? Jyuushiro can’t truly tell, not without seeing his eyes or being able to feel his power, but it’s… touching, in a way. The man clearly hadn’t anticipated any of this, much less Jyuushiro and Shunsui’s capture.

General Rudersdorf sighs and Jyuushiro manages to twist enough in Shihoin’s grip to get a look at the man; he’s leaning against the table, attention focused on Shunsui even as he taps the ash off of his cigar. “You couldn’t have waited a week?” he asks as he shoots Alexis a dust-dry look. “We had plans on how to handle their introduction to your people, you know.”

(‘Your people’?)

(That’s… ominous.)

“Plans schmans, you should know better than that,” Alexis replies lightly, then takes a firmer stance and gathers her power around her like an invisible cloak. “Best this happens now,” she declares as if she’s the one in charge of everyone in the room. “Marcel caught wind of your newest guests, General, and you know what that means.”

Whoever ‘Marcel’ is, the very mention of them makes Rudersdorf scowl and makes many of the nearby politicians wince and exchange looks that Jyuushiro doesn’t like, considering how they’re reacting to this little ‘invasion’. Because for all the shattered glass and Rerugen’s complaints, for all that Jyuushiro is currently helpless and being carried like a helpless damsel by a person he thought was dead, for all that Shunsui is struggling to avoid being captured as well… there’s nothing truly frightening about it.

The politicians are righting their seats and carefully cleaning the table of any debris, the two remaining Generals are watching with an air of paternal amusement, and for all that Shunsui is fighting back there’s no blood, no actual attacks being made, just lunges and harmless traps and every indication that the three people trying to corner him are more than willing to wait him out rather than potentially injure anyone.

If the very mention of ‘Marcel’ is enough to make them wince when this is treated so casually…

“You could have just warned us,” Rudersdorf half-heartedly complains, then takes a drag of his cigar and breathes out the smoke. “We were planning on putting General Rerugen as their liaison, and I have full trust in his abilities.”

Rerugen makes a strangled noise and pushes himself up to give his superior a startled, almost disbelieving look. “S-sir?!”

Rudersdorf arches one bushy eyebrow at Rerugen and says, “You don’t think Marcel would have accepted your claim?”

And whatever that means, it’s enough to make Rerugen flush scarlet and flop back down over his wife’s shoulder with a groan, arms moving to cover his face. “Sir,” he bites out, voice muffled. “Did you really expect me to— I know I— augh!”

Zettour takes the opportunity to speak up, voice bright-mischievous-casual as he says, “It was my understanding that sex wasn’t required—”

Rerugen squeaks, the tips of his ears turning a bright scarlet. “It isn’t!” he forces out, voice higher than before. He lifts his head slightly, body turning towards his superiors, and… meets Jyuushiro’s gaze. His blush immediately spreads further, creeping down the column of his neck to vanish beneath the collar of his uniform, and he buries his face back in his arms with a whine.

Jyuushiro purses his lips against the laughter than wants to rise and lets his head tip back so he can stare up at the tiled ceiling instead of at the tempting, tempting sight in front of him.

(How far does Rerugen’s blush extend?)

(He… kind of wants to find out.)

“Tempting, isn’t he?” Shihoin teases softly. “Just wait until you see him with Kisuke and Alexis at the same time.”

Jyuushiro swallows and sends her an exasperated look, doing his best to ignore the mental image that her words create. “Somehow I doubt I’m going to be so privileged.”

“I’m going to enjoy the sight of you eating those words,” Shihoin tells him with undisguised glee, lips curling up in a wicked smile. Then she tips her head towards where Shunsui is slowing being cornered and raises her voice as she says, “Now if someone will just get with the program so we can get moving!”

“Not exactly what I had planned for the day!” Shunsui shouts back at her, then grunts with effort as he twists around another attempt to grab him. Magic flares around his body, the wooden floor heaving, and—

Immediately settles back in place, no trace of Shunsui’s magic behind.

The sight leaves Jyuushiro cold, dread pooling in his stomach as he tries to look closer, tries to see—

(Mages can’t cancel each other’s powers so easily, even if they share the same element.)

(Only… only elementals… but elementals are dead, are just legends, stories to frighten children with—)

(This isn’t Akitsushima…)

Shihoin’s hand tightens a bit on his arm as she looks back down at him. “Nothing’ll happen to either of you,” she tells him, then huffs a laugh when he gives her the dry look that comment deserves. “Alright, alright, nothing worse than this will happen to you, promise. Kisuke and I are fine, and we’ve spent years with them.”

He… supposes that’s true; Shihoin seems stronger than ever, not weakened and listless like the stories of elemental-ridden mages say she should be. If… if the worst is true, if Alexis and her people are elementals, at least… that seems different.

Something clatters to the floor and Shunsui grunts, the sound ending with a soft wheeze of breath escaping his lungs, and Jyuushiro quickly looks back over, fearing what he’ll see—

His lover is slung over one of the men’s shoulders much like Rerugen is, a great scowl on his face and his long hair cascading down like a waterfall. “Your shoulder is bony,” Shunsui growls as he tries to twist away, only to have the man’s free hand settle on his lower back as a further brace.

“I’ve been told that,” the man answers cheerfully as he turns around and strolls back towards the rest of them, the other two crew members following behind. “Cap’n! I caught him!”

“I see that, well done Briar,” Alexis praises warmly. “And now that we’ve achieved our objective, we’re off!”

Rudersdorf snorts. “Just remember to bring them all back in a month,” he says sternly, like a father reminding a child of curfew.

“And remember to have fun!” Zettour adds with a fox-like smile.

Alexis laughs, bright-cheerful-wild, and says, “Aye-aye Generals, sirs. We’ll be in touch like usual!”

And with that, Alexis spins and darts towards the window, leaping out with neither a care nor hesitation, Rerugen still braced across her shoulder. They vanish from sight in a heartbeat.

Jyuushiro’s mouth goes dry.

Are they really…?

The window?!

“Ready?” Shihoin asks with a playful smirk even as she adjusts her grip on Jyuushiro one more time. “Hold on tight!”

And before he can do more than grab handfuls of her colorful coat, she’s racing towards the window with magic-enhanced steps. The frame flies past in a blur, gravity taking over and dragging them down—

Shihoin lands in midair, something pale and cloud-like beneath her feet. Alexis is standing atop another not-cloud, and third swirls into being beneath Briar’s feet as he leaps from the window too. The last two crew members each land on their own, and then they’re off, flying across the sky towards the south, the ground blurring by.

Jyuushiro exchanges a despairing look with Shunsui and then closes his eyes with a sigh.

They’ll get through this.

(He can’t let himself believe otherwise.)

(He can’t.)

[yanderedbh-moved]

The Yanderes + Fluff Scenarios

The third installment of this little series, I guess I have now of the yanderes in typical fanfiction tropes. 

Smut

H/C

Connor

While it may be tricky for him to grasp the concept of personal hobbies (as in performing tasks with no real tangible pay off or goal in mind.) He experiences a very wholesome and heartwarming sense of pride from watching you doing what you love. In your element and feeling so free.

Connor experiencing the charming sense of alarm one typically feels when fostering a crush for another. Worrying if you secretly knew but weren’t telling him, would you lead him on, were you personally seeing someone else right now, etc.

Though it might seem small, Connor enjoys leaving the house every now and then to just get a pleasant walk in to see his home city while not on the clock. It’s a considerably understated freedom the android only learned to appreciate once he was granted the choice to do so himself.

Markus

It’s pretty commonly accepted at this point Markus loves reading, for so many reasons. For one thing, it reminds him of his home and of his father figure who possessed a vast array of different books of great diversity. As well as the pure pleasure of enjoying a little alone time away from the noise of the outside world.

In a relationship, Markus would be an excellent partner when it comes to empowerment! He would absolutely want to teach you different ways to defend yourself and would want to ensure you had the skills and know-how to keep yourself safe out there.

Also isn’t above using the fact he’s the leader of Jericho to his advantage. As in, if he knows you’re having issues with someone in your life, and it’s causing you to feel unsafe and on edge, he would ensure this person knew just who they were messing with, along with sending the message to back off.

Kara

Once the two of you finally manage to find a stable life for yourselves, and Alice Kara would finally receive the chance for fun, inconsequential domestic life, she never had the opportunity to live out before.

Kara really enjoys having a human partner far more than she ever expected to! For so many reasons, but a personal favorite of hers is keeping you company in the final few moments before you fall asleep. It’s just the two of you, and you’re mind’s practically shut off, and she really enjoys the way you so completely relax into her.

Alice is shown to enjoy drawing and art, so you can imagine once she actually lives in a comfortable, stable environment, she feels much more comfortable expressing herself. Kara loves to keep her child’s drawing as keepsakes and is something of a hoarder when it comes to pictures Alice draws of the three of you.

Hank

It’s tricky at the start, but you do your best to get Hank out of the house more. To try and urge him to move on, to fall back in love with life, promising him you’ll be by his side every step of the way.

Furthermore, when you actually do get around to moving in with Hank, there’s a kind of an inexpressible breath of life he feels. Like for the first time in so long, this place actually feels like a home again, and not just where he lives.

Mushy, ultra-sweet romance isn’t precisely Hank’s style, but he would still find other little ways to make you feel loved. He’s more the one to use endearing sarcasm or an affectionate nickname to express his real emotions.

Luther

Imagine having to try and lift yourself all the way up to your tiptoes to get a kiss on the cheek from him. While he could always just lean down and help you out, he thinks it’s kind of cute to watch you try so hard.

He likes to be in bed with you, to make you feel close and held while you’re getting your rest. While physically, he may not need the sleep, keeping you close, wishing this moment won’t ever end is profoundly therapeutic for Luther.

North

Small acts of kindness and taking care of North in little ways may not feel like much to the outside observer, however, considering she’s never received treatment so gentle and sweet from anyone else in her life? Yeah, it’s more than enough to leave her feeling beyond blessed.

Imagine an intense moment with North. The two of you are working in a group, and the stress of it all is rising. She’s doing her best to keep composure, but she slips up and accidentally refers to you by a silly nickname she gave you, and you can’t help but crack up a little bit, despite the situation.

When it comes to dating North, it’s essential to have a bit of a thick skin. When she first begins to develop feelings for you, she might feel overwhelmed and confused by her own emotions and say something hurtful to try and keep you at a distance. Later on though, when she feels more comfortable opening up to you, North would definitely apologize for this and regret this mistake severely.

Simon

So much long-distance pining! About a fifty-fifty split between Simon being an absolute mess of emotions, along with him wondering how in the world he’s ever going to muster up the courage to confess to you.

It’s pretty critical not to rush him or anything here. At the best of times, Simon can be a bit stressed out, and maybe a little high strung. Even though he genuinely cares about you, it’s important to respect his space and understand that he needs a little patience on your end.

(This is debatable, but I think it adds up.) Simon is the android with maybe the most extended history with humans, and because of that has gathered a great deal of information via observation. He knows how to treat humans gently and is a much better kisser than he would let on.

Josh

In his darker, more pessimistic moments, there are times when Josh wonders if there’s really any hope for a future in which humans and androids live together in peace. In times like this, he really needs you as the little positive voice he can relly on to assure him there’s still hope and time to find peace and love between androids and humans.

Now that androids are granted far more space to exist freely of their own volition Josh rather enjoys taking you out on a quiet little one on one date. It’s nice to see the city how it was meant to be seen, and there’s no one he would rather share this with than you.

Much like his leader, when Josh has the free time to spend, Josh is something of a bookworm. However, for him, it’s much more a chance to explore a new hobby he’s no experience with, rather than to re-capture memories of the past. (Also he has a soft spot for romance novels, fight me.)

Kamski

(This one is up for debate, but...) Kamski gives off the vibes of someone who could kill at chess. It could be a fun little game between the two of you, to see if one day you could beat him, but he’s been playing since he was a child, so chances are slim, to say the least.

He’s productive and innovative to a fault, and he would really relly on you to look out for him and his health. Or, in other words, to drag him to bed and keep him from completely wrecking his sleep schedule in the name of progress.

Even though it’s rather common for him to leave the house in the name of giving an interview, a speech or a lecture hall, or something of the sort, Kamski would understand if you were the kind of person to prefer to stay home, or otherwise out of the spotlight.

Chloe

One thing which never fails to make Chloe feel better is playing with your hair, on the condition you do the same with her later. Also, bonus points if you agree to take pictures with her afterward.

She’s beyond sensitive to others' emotions, especially to yours, and there’s just something about your smile and your laugh, which sticks with her. It’s infectious to her, and she can’t get enough.

If she finds you’ve fallen asleep somewhere, Chloe really loves to just curl up and sleep next to you like a cat.

Gavin

He’s really the one to pretend to fall asleep if the two of you were cuddling either in bed or on the couch because he loves whenever you tuck him in and kiss his head goodnight. It’s something he likely never received growing up, and it means a lot to him to get that now.

The first time you ever see him all cleaned up and in beautiful clothes is more than a little shocking to you, and it’s difficult not to stare upon seeing him actually putting forth and effort.

Ralph

It doesn’t matter if you’ve only been gone for a couple hours, or for the entire day, when you come back, Ralph is always there to greet you at the door, ready to welcome you back, with the ecstatic energy of a puppy.

A quiet, but deeply profound moment Ralph has when he realizes he doesn’t actually want to live all alone, and that he genuinely finds happiness sharing his space with a human. There’s more to life than hiding.

You assure him that you think he looks exactly perfect just the way he is. There’s no need for him to try and “fix” the way he looks, and in your eyes, there’s no reason for him to feel lesser, or inadequate in any way.

Daniel

Embracing shamelessly “childish” activities with him. Things like decorating the house for holidays, cleaning games, arts and crafts, that sort of thing. It might appear silly on the surface, but to Daniel, it’s some of the few happy memories he has of his old life.

When Daniel decides to commit to a serious, loving relationship with you, Daniel is making a legitimate commitment here. He is actively choosing to embrace his emotions, and not to try and run away from them,

At his worst, Daniel can be very high strung and impulsive, so you must know plenty of de-stress activities to keep him under control.

Nines

Nines absolutely struggle with the initial symptoms of lovesickness. He grapples with worrying if you’ll ever love him back, or worse, that you wouldn’t even consider loving something which was designed to serve a strictly utilitarian purpose.

To his surprise, there’s a little bit of satisfaction Nines feels upon experiencing things like longing and tenderness. There is something to be said for experiencing these abstract emotions in any regard, considering how contrary to his programming they are.

Nines possesses a very strong memory and is one of the best you’ll ever meet. Those two factors together result in an android who knows basically everyone’s business, and who is very difficult to keep secrets from.

Buy Me a Ko-Fi // Requests are Open

[current-mcr-news]

Carry The Fire Podcast with Gerard Way: Full Transcription

Welcome to Carry The Fire, a podcast where we explore the big questions of life through the lens of the good, the true, and the beautiful. I’m your host, Dustin Kensrue, and my hope is that through these conversations with people of diverse and divergent backgrounds and beliefs, we can glimpse the world anew through each other's unique perspectives.

Gerard: Fiction is something to a degree that you'll hide behind in a way, and it allows you to expose yourself… I always saw the characters that I've played as some aspect of myself turned up to 12... Overall, I considered The Black Parade to be a death fantasy… death and rock and roll were kind of intertwined… Every time you get onstage you have to be prepared to die.

Dustin: Hey everybody. It is episode five of Carry The Fire podcast. Today we are joined by Gerard Way who is the singer of the band My Chemical Romance as well as also having released some killer music on his own. He has spent the last few years though, spending most of his time writing comics, including the very popular Umbrella Academy comics which have recently been adapted into a great show on Netflix. In our conversation, we talk about creating worlds and inhabiting characters, we talk about the beauty and the difficulty of creative collaboration, the complexity of trying to incorporate time-travel into a story, and we also get into Gerard’s spirituality a bit, and I want to give a brief heads up for some of you regarding that.

Gerard is going to talk a bit about magick and witchcraft. While I’m no expert on either, I do know enough to know that these words in this context probably don’t mean what most of you think they do. Some of you might not bat an eye hearing them but a lot of you probably came up inside a worldview where someone who was interested in these things was considered very evil. Gerard is very far from that. If I can try to provide a new framework for you it would be this: Generally, modern practices of magick and witchcraft, while being diverse in form, incorporate various insights and rituals from animistic pagan and folk religion, as well as incorporating some psychological intuitions from different fields and traditions. Practitioners generally tend to be very concerned with the earth and our connection with it. While this is not my spiritual tradition or practice, I recognize that we all have things to learn from each other. I think especially the ideas in these traditions about finding our place within the natural world are a helpful corrective to a lot of the western traditions’ tendency to want to dominate over nature, rather than seeing ourselves as a part of an interconnected web of being. I had no idea we’d be talking about any of this going into this conversation, but in the spirit of this podcast, I was so excited to hear from another unique perspective on the good, the true, and the beautiful, and I hope you will be too. Let’s get into it.

Dustin: Thank you so much for doing this.

Gerard: No problem.

D: It's super good to see you.

G: You too!

D: I'm trying to think of the last time we even saw each other and I- it was probably on tour.

G: Was it on the arena tour?

D: That's what I'm thinking.

G: It's been a long time.

D: And we were playing a bunch of World of Warcraft.

G: Yeah! That's my strongest memory. I have a lot of great memories of you guys, obviously, but the one that sticks out in my head the most is when we're all playing Warcraft in this big room and you had to go onstage, and you literally had your rig hooked up, you had your in-ears, they weren't in yet, but you were wired up, and I believe you even had a guitar, and you were still playing. You went literally from the keyboard from the computer right on stage.

D: Dude, I got way too addicted to that game. It's your guys' fault.

G: It was our fault, yeah!

D: Oh dude, it was so fun. It was probably like, what? Eight or nine of us playing in a room.

G: Yeah!

D: I don't know if it was the tour after that or two, and I had started just dreaming in Warcraft, and I went onstage one day and I was onstage and I had this moment where I was like, "I'm done! I can't," because I had tried to wean a little bit and it wasn't working, so I was like, "I gotta go cold turkey."

G: Yeah.

D: And I got offstage and I gave someone the Warcraft and I said, "Don't give this back to me. I'm done. I deleted it." Yeah. Which is funny because I seriously hadn't played video games since then until I just bought my kids a Switch.

G: Okay!

D: And they're playing Zelda.

G: Zelda, yeah.

D: And I decided to treat myself.

G: Nice, nice.

D: That's why I got a Switch for the road because Zelda's the best.

G: Yeah, I play Zelda with my daughter and it's so big though. We're having a really hard time getting a handle on the game because it's so vast.

D: Yeah, it is crazy. 

G: I had to quit Warcraft too. I had to go cold turkey because it was still in my life when I wanted to write The Umbrella Academy.

D: Oh.

G: And I actually had this- I was at the crossroads and I had this moment where I was like, "I can either play Warcraft or I could write this comic."

D: It's a time sink.

G: Totally.

D: That game especially.

G: Yeah.

D: The social aspect, it just ends up being enormous.

G: Yeah yeah, so that was it. I quit and never looked back. 

D: So, I was gonna ask you, prompted you earlier to think about it. What was something that gave you a feeling of wonder as a kid?

G: Okay so, I have a couple really obvious-

D: Or multiple things.

G: Multiple things, yeah, I have a couple real obvious answers.

D: That's alright.

G: And I know this is such an obvious one but Star Wars was really big. It just was and I know it was for millions of people. Once I saw that, it was like the first movie my parents ever took me to see and I was really young, but the thing back then was they were running these in theaters for like three years.

D: Oh really? I don't think I realized that.

G: Yeah. So Star Wars had come out and then they just kept running it until The Empire came out. I must've been two or something and they brought me to the theater.

D: Oh wow! I think I remember, I think my first memory of going to a movie was seeing- Was Jedi '84?

G: '83, yeah. I think it was '83.

D: So I remember going to see that, standing in line with my dad.

G: Me too!

D: That's the first, I don't know, there's just those moments where you have those- I remember listening to certain records in my dad's car.

G: Yeah.

D: And he'd turn it up loud.

G: Yep. That's one of my favorite memories of my dad is him picking me up from school early and then taking me to go see Jedi.

D: Oh that's cool.

G: Yeah, we waited in big lines that wrapped around. Even back then, there were a couple people ordering pizza. That's one of my favorite memories of being with my dad.

D: That's super cool. What about Star Wars specifically created that wonder? Was it the world?

G: The world, I think. It was the world, the scope, just this world you wanted to live in, that you wish existed and there was only three movies back then, so your brain would kinda fill in the gaps like, "What is it like? What are their supermarkets like?" And your brain would kinda- and later, that would come into play when I would RPGs, which is another thing I'll bring up in a minute. There was a time where I was in college, or right before college, where we were playing a Star Wars RPG that I was running, and it's just such a rich world.

D: Like a tabletop one?

G: Tabletop, yeah. And it was a really great game and it was super epic because the one thing about it was everybody already had a sense of that world in their head.

D: Yeah, you don't have to build that already.

G: Yeah, you didn't have to build.

D: You just add onto it.

G: Yeah yeah, so they all knew the world so when you would describe something, everybody had a vivid picture in their head, and then anything you hadn't seen before, you would just describe, but people had a point of reference so they would know.

D: That's pretty cool.

G: But yeah, Star Wars was like the first one and I was just obsessed with that for my whole childhood, playing with the action figures with Mikey, and we had our own sarlacc pit which was a dirt pit, and stuff like that. And then the other thing that was really important to me were tabletop RPGs. So, I was in the 3rd grade at a new school, but I still hung out with my best friend who was still at the old school. Anyway, basically he had an older brother- his friend had an older brother in college and he was way into D&D and he would run D&D for us, and we're all 3rd graders. That was a major moment for me.

D: That's pretty cool.

G: Yeah, it was. And to have a college-aged Dungeon Master who knew the game inside out was a really amazing way to play.

D: That's pretty cool.

G: Yeah. And that really opened up a big world for me. So then I would go on to- so I never stopped playing since the 3rd grade and then I took a try at being a Dungeon Master, and even just from playing and Dungeon Mastering, I learned how to tell stories, and I was really into that. You'd learn things even about leadership if you go to become the party leader, or if you're the DM, you learn how to keep people engaged. You learn how to keep momentum, things moving.

D: That's interesting. I feel like that's something that maybe a lot of storytellers are not paying as much attention to as they used to. There's the book I brought you, it's called Invisible Ink.

G: Oh, cool!

D: This guy, Brian McDonald, who's kind of like a story guru. He consults at Pixar all the time, teaches screenwriting, he's very cool. But he grew up watching a bunch of the classic movie directors coming up in the '60s and '70s or whatever, and they all had this vision of what stories were and really paid attention to how- they thought about how the audience would react, imagined them in the theater, or whatever. And then, something he was talking about is he just feels it's dropped off, that interplay of trying to connect and let that influence how you're actually creating the story.

G: Yeah. I'm excited to read that. I'm a big fan of structure and I'm a big fan of outlines.

D: Okay.

G: Yeah.

D: You'll like this.

G: Yeah! Good! I'm a big fan of those things because the way I see it, if you know your whole story, and I always feel like you don't need to know all the details, you don't need to know all of it, but you should know kind of- you should have some kind of outline or a structure, and then you get to have fun because you do know the beats you need to hit, but all the spaces in between, you get to fill that in.

D: I think it's rare that anyone doesn't do that and does it well. Stephen King's maybe the only one that I can think of that just doesn't write that way, and somehow he just has internalized it or something, and it ends up working itself out.

G: Yeah.

D: That's cool, man. So would you say those kinds of things, these imaginary worlds, these built worlds, are the things that still bring you the most wonder and joy in a sense?

G: Yeah! And it's something that I wanted to do when I grew up. I wanted to build my own worlds that people could share and be a part of, and that was something I did all throughout the band was just kinda- and building all these different worlds and the people that inhabit those worlds and the details down to the stickers on the Trans Am for Danger Days, those were all planned out. So my favorite thing to do is world building. And I've done it for projects that haven't come to fruition as well. Like I was working on this sci-fi TV show for a while and I just went deep, and I just came up with- with my friend Jon Rivera, we just came up with this whole world. So world building is something I'm a big fan of. And it's something I've noticed people talk about when they're talking about either my work with Umbrella Academy or My Chemical Romance, is the world building aspect, so. World building as a job title isn't a job, but I think it's- that element is, I feel like, one of my strengths.

D: Yeah. As far as the world building, I feel like you've not only built those worlds, but with MCR, you lead in inhabiting them in a way.

G: Yeah.

D: It's fun to watch. It's scary for me a little bit, watching it. Is it scary for you or is it safe for you? To be in that character.

G: That's a good question. I think there's a bit of safety that comes with being a character, and obviously, I was looking up to my heroes when I was constructing that. I was looking at David Bowie, especially around Black Parade, that's when I was like, "I'm gonna be a character." Early Black Parade stuff was like, I had written this line out that basically said, "What if Death had a rock band?" It obviously changed from that and we all became Death in a way, the whole band, but there was a safety with inhabiting a character, and the character I was during Black Parade was fun because I think in an entertaining way or a positive way, there was this level of disdain that you would have for you audience as playing as The Black Parade. But it was, to me, a healthy kind, because you were just playing really. And I thought that was a fun aspect of that character. But then there's a lot of you in the character and it's kind of- I always saw the characters that I've played as some aspect of myself turned up to 12. It's interesting when I would meet people afterwards and stuff, they would be like, "I didn't think you were gonna be so normal when I met you," just because the way I would act onstage. And I met a lot of kids who were like, "I thought you were gonna be such a jerk."

D: That's funny.

G: Because I would play one, you know. And it was just part of the drama for me.

D: Yeah. That's cool. Have you read any Ursula K. Le Guin?

G: I love her! I just reread Earthsea, the first one.

D: I haven't read it. I've heard it's amazing.

G: Yeah, it is.

D: I just got into- I read The Left Hand Of Darkness.

G: Oh, I've not finished that, but I loved what I've read.

D: It is a very slow book, in a sense. It's not exciting, in a sense, but it's got this patient movement and by the end, I was just floored by it. It was fantastic.

G: I have to finish that one. I love her and her work, especially Left Hand Of Darkness, it does have a patient movement, I think that's the best way to describe it. And I've also loved the way that she talks about storytelling in writing, and one thing I've read from her recently that really stuck with me, this is a quote of hers, and I'm paraphrasing it, I don't know if I'm getting this exact, but she basically said, "Not every story needs to have a message. It could just be the act of telling a story. You don't have to lecture your readership or your audience, or hit them over the head with this big message. It doesn't have to have one."

D: Which is interesting because I feel like she is a very message orientated writer in a certain way, but maybe that's coming in in a very natural sense.

G: Yeah.

D: [C.S.] Lewis talked about that too, where he was like, "The last thing you wanna do is write this thing that's just trying to tell something." He's like, "Whatever truth that you actually believe, those things are coming out if you just write."

G: If you just write, I agree with that.

D: Like Narnia, apparently, started from- he had a picture in his head of a faun in a snowstorm holding a parcel with an umbrella. That's the whole world built out of that, and he loved that image, and his love for it blossomed into something.

G: Yeah! That's awesome!

D: It's super cool. So, the beginning, in the intro of Left Hand Of Darkness,  Le Guin says, "I am an artist, and therefore a liar. Distrust everything I say. I am telling the truth. The only truth I can understand or express is, logically defined, a lie. Psychologically defined, a symbol. Aesthetically defined, a metaphor." So even when you're making music, you were talking about you're making these fictions, you're lying as it were. I was watching something the other day, you said something like, "Sometimes fiction is closer to fact," or something in that range. Is that accurate of how you feel creating, that sometimes by- you're getting at a deeper truth by telling a fiction?

G: Yeah yeah. That could happen, and I think it's kinda magical when it does happen. Black Parade especially is filled with a lot of metaphors and maybe the fiction is something to a degree that you'll hide behind in a way, and it allows you to expose yourself. Because exposing yourself is really hard and one of the- just allowing yourself to be vulnerable is really hard and one of the things that Rob Cavallo said to me when he was producing Black Parade was, "Making a record, a great record, is you're almost pulling open your insides and you're pulling all your guts out," and things like that, and it's a brutal process because of that, but I think I did that on that record a lot. There's a lot of self loathing and there's the Catholic guilt I grew up with appears in stuff like Mama and House of Wolves, how you think you're destined for Hell and things like that, but it's cool, yeah. Fiction gives you a way to express these things and make yourself vulnerable and open yourself up and that's the way I like to use it, and then sometimes, there's stuff that's just straight fiction or fantasy. Overall, I considered Black Parade to be a death fantasy. A rock and roll death fantasy because I thought death and rock and roll were kind of intertwined in a way, because I think Mick Jagger had said once, "Every time you get onstage you have to be prepared to die." 

D: That's amazing.

G: Yeah! So, it was this rock and roll death fantasy, Black Parade.

D: That's cool. I have the worst memory. So, I was preparing for this and somebody was like, "Hey, ask Gerard if he really wrote the treatment for the Image Of The Invisible video," and I was like, "Holy shit!" I totally forgot that-

G: Oh my god! 

D: That you did that.

G: Oh my god! That was so fun too! I totally forgot! I gotta rewatch that.

D: What's funny too is I watching your videos and I was like, "This is so cool, these characters. We've never really done anything like that. I guess Image Of The Invisible is kinda like that," but didn't even make the connection, but it's totally that way because you were building that world!

G: That was so much fun.

D: And I got to live in it and it was cool.

G: That's cool. Yeah, I was really honored that you asked me to conceptualize a video for you guys.

D: It was fun. I don't think we've ever had another one where it was such- well, definitely not such a developed story.

G: Right. Didn't we do something too where we had lights on their helmets?

D: Yeah.

G: Their eyes were supposed to be lights or something?

D: Yeah, maybe it was like a single eye was a red laser-y light.

G: Yeah. That was cool. I'm gonna rewatch that when we're done.

D: So you grew up with the Catholic guilt, you said. Did you ever feel like you inhabited that world, or was it something being kind of thrust on you that you didn't- I mean, it's hard as a kid.

G: Right.

D: You don't even know, but I'm curious about that and then where you'd feel like your kind of big frame worldview is now on like, "What are we all doing on this rock?"

G: Right, right. My family, my parents, they weren't super religious. I come from this Italian Catholic background though so it was the kind of thing, my grandmother would go to church sometimes, but never would push us to really go. But for Christmas or something, my mom would go with her. But I think they thought, my parents thought, "This is the right thing to do. We should raise our child with believing in God and raise them Catholic because we're good. Even though we're not always there, we're good Catholics." So, they kind of put me on that path and I think the first thing I learned from being Catholic, or just religion in general, maybe it's somewhat at times specific to Catholicism, is this fear. And this fear of Hell, that's they really instilled in us. I think I was in the 1st grade or something, really young, and there was this thing that would happen where they would talk about death and Hell and all that stuff, and there was this period which, because of these classes, these after school classes, I would have these bouts of just crying. I guess I was coming to terms with the fact that my parents wouldn't be there forever or I would lose them and they would die. But then the additional fear of, "Well, if they behave bad, they'll go to Hell, and I'll go to Hell too," and so, there was this period where it was really upsetting for me, and I channeled that. I tapped into that stuff on a couple records, and on Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge, I borrowed a lot of Catholic imagery, and that second video for Helena being in a church, and things like that. So I kinda started- and in some of our merch designs too. I remember we had one with a cathedral and a rosary and all this stuff, and then that would come to a head in the song Mama on Black Parade but, yeah, my journey in terms of spirituality and where I came with that. Obviously, at some point, I was confirmed in the 5th grade, so I did that. But then after that, my parents didn't have any more requirements out of me, because it was all about baptism, communion, and confirmation. And if you did those three things, you were good, then you could go as you wanted. So they never pushed me to go. And then, over the years, obviously I got into punk rock and I didn't believe in God for the longest time, and then I just started to really need spirituality in my life as I got older. And I'm more of the sense where I believe in there being some- I don't know if it's a God, but I do believe there's something.

D: Something, yeah.

G: Yeah. There's something out there, there's some kind of reason. I also believe we come from- because we do, we come from star stuff. 

D: Yeah.

G: We come from the universe. We're birthed from the universe. I'm a believer in the fact that the universe is chaos and born out of chaos and it's uncontrollable, and there's kind of no rhyme or reason to anything, and tragedies and accidents and bad things happen and good things happen, and it's really just chaos being this constant true thing in the universe, and I came to those discoveries through my study of magick, occultism, and things like that, which I was inspired to do by my friend Grant Morrison. He's kind of like a big brother to me, mentor, he's really supportive and he's very into magick. And so I became interested and he's given me some lessons, and I actually wanted to do a podcast one day with him where I literally just sit down with him and have him talk about magick, because the way he describes it is, you would almost need it to be recorded to fully explore all the theories and things like that. So, I started to need magick, high magick, chaos magick, and eventually witchcraft, and witchcraft is something I felt more comfortable with because I always felt like, when I was reading about chaos magick, it felt like it was about making the universe bend to your will, whereas I was looking for something more that you were in service to the universe.

D: Interesting.

G: I think I got this from reading Crowley's book on magick, but basically, I don't know exactly what he said, but basically reality is your perspective. And that was kinda one of the key points of magick, your brain builds your reality.

D: Yeah.

G: And I thought that was a really great take away from all that. So, yeah, I've been interested in spirituality and things like that and studying shamanism, and all that stuff. We, with our daughter, we didn't raise her with religion, but we, Lindsey, my wife, is really spiritual too. Not like a practicing witch or anything, but she's just naturally adept at those kind of things. She's really in tune with nature, she knows a ton about herbology, a lot of the founding cornerstones of witchcraft is just kinda part of her life. And so, we do raise Bandit with- Lindsey teaches her all about herbs and plants and we have a witch's garden, and communicating with nature and trees and animals and things like that. So we're teaching our daughter that there is a kind of magick to life and magick does exist. It's not Harry Potter magic, but you know.

D: A lot of that seems like it's about an embodiment, a connectedness to everything, to other people.

G: Yeah, connectedness, for sure, yeah. And just teaching her that she's connected to the universe. And if she grows up and wants a different kind of religion, that's great too, and I know I explored those. I was looking for a religion in art school, because I had a class where we had to study all the religions, or most of them. And I kept going from each one and I was like, "I like bits of this one, but I don't like that." I couldn't find one that I landed on until I got later in life into more spiritual things like magick and witchcraft.

D: Cool. So with something like witchcraft, which for a lot of people are gonna hear it and have not at all the idea that you're talking about I think, so something like the idea of goodness in that, where does that derive from? Is that coming from the inter-connectedness? It seems like there's a moral view to it rather than morality being a decree maybe. It's something that arises out of those connections?

G: Right right, yeah! I think the positivity in it, to me, and here's the thing. I don't consider myself a practicing witch or anything like that, I just read a ton of this stuff. And that's one of the things they kinda warn you about with magick and everything, you could read all the books you want and some people spend their whole life reading books and never practice, but the thing they tell you to do is practice. And I think yeah, the goodness comes from being in service to the earth. Being connected to that and also, what I've learned about witchcraft, or at least the kind of witchcraft that I like, is it's very gray. It's not black magick, it's not totally white magick, it's just understanding that the universe and all things in it are very gray, there's no black and white to everything. And I've really liked that the most, because I get older- when I was younger, I was very black and white about a lot of things. Especially in the earlier days of My Chemical Romance, everything was really military and rigid, and black and white, and this is right and this is wrong. You kind of get older and you start to realize, "No, things aren't that simple. Not everybody's all good or all bad. There's a grayness there." 

D: Which, I think, I have a song of the latest Thrice record called The Grey and it's dealing with that idea of deconstructing the black and the white, and I think the biggest danger there is the idea that even if there was straight black, straight white, you are betting a lot on your ability to discern it at any given moment.

G: You are.

D: And then if you are actually holding to it, and you're basically betting on your ability to discern this thing and now it's of the most ultimate consequence and you filter out everything that doesn't fit into that, which is basically a bunch of yourself and a bunch of everyone around you.

G: Yeah, exactly, yeah.

[ad break]

D: So I have a couple questions I’ll pepper in here from some of the Patrons. James Corvit said, “What is the purest form of goodness you’ve experienced as a human being, and how do you explain it?”

G: Purest form of goodness.

D: I don’t know, it’s deep.

G: Yeah.

D: I don’t know if that’s from someone or just internally.

G: The purest form of goodness. It’s a tough question but it’s a great question. I think the purest form of goodness is forgiveness. Or that would be something I would say is a very strong form of goodness. Even when you see people that the most terrible things happen to them, like a serial killer murders their loved one and then some of these people, not all of them, and I don’t blame the ones that don’t find forgiveness, but some of them find forgiveness and are able to forgive people for the most atrocious things, and so that feels like a really powerful form of goodness.

D: Yeah, I feel like in the middle of me deconstructing a lot of that stuff, something I was like- the idea of grace and forgiveness is something that goes deep there and I’m not willing to let go of that. Over the centuries, there’s been countless efforts to define beauty. Aristotle defines beauty as having “order, symmetry, and definiteness.”

G: Hm.

D: But it’s always struck me as a fairly anemic version of beauty. And then I saw on the cover of the My Chem single Sing, there’s a question on there that says, “Would you destroy something perfect in order to make it beautiful?”

G: Right.

D: This makes me think that you probably also take issue with that definition a bit. I wanted to ask, is there something about brokenness that’s near the heart of beauty for you?

G: Absolutely, yeah. And that, I was trying to remember that phrase a couple months ago too, that was on the cover saying, yeah, “Would you destroy something perfect to make it beautiful?” And yeah, I think beauty is way more complex than symmetry and I think there is a brokenness to beauty. I think, you look at a lot of musicians, you could arguably say from a certain perspective, if you subscribe to symmetry and things like that, a lot of musicians or front-people, men and women in bands, some of them you could say they’re not traditionally beautiful, or not what you would think is beautiful, but something about their vulnerability or their confidence and things like that, make them beautiful. And that’s in any case, even non-musicians. Like people that just go to work in the world and have normal jobs, there is something about beauty that is much deeper than just what you see visually.

D: One of the Patrons was saying that, “My Chem’s music reinforced to me and my friends that being an outcast was okay.” Was that something that you wanted people to feel? What were things growing up that made you feel like it was okay to be an outcast or a misfit?

G: I think by the time I was definitely not in elementary school- well, I didn’t have to struggle with being an outcast in elementary school. I actually went to a really cool school, it was just a normal public school, but the one thing I thought looking back that was very interesting about those years is we all got along, we were all friends, even the weirdest kids, and a lot of kids would just have these parties back then and everyone was invited. And then my first real experience with being an outsider was going to middle school, and then so, you aren’t all friends anymore, and there’s all divisions and cliques and things like that, and then I found myself to be one of these outcasts, one of these weird kids that listened to heavy metal and wore flannels. There were only a handful of us in the school that were like that. But it wasn’t until high school where I fully embraced being an outcast. The first year, freshman year was really hard because I was really an outcast and I didn’t even know where to sit at the lunch tables, because I didn’t fit in with any of these groups. And it turns out I ended up sitting with a table of metalheads because they saw me sitting by myself and they were like, “Why don’t you sit with us?” And that’s where I would learn about certain bands that they were into, like Murphy’s Law and the kind of things they were listening to back then. But it was important for me to have something that spoke to outsiders with My Chemical Romance because when I was that age, there wasn’t anything that really spoke to me like that. Or there wasn’t something so specific to being an outcast. There was lots of stuff that if you were an outcast you listened to like The Cure or The Smiths, so of course, I found all those bands. But there was nothing specifically geared to somebody that feels invisible or is an outcast or rejected and things like that, so when we started My Chem, it felt very much like we were channeling the energy of being an outcast onto whoever listened to us. And in the early days, it wasn’t a lot of kids. I mean, there weren't any kids that really listened to us. It was kinda older punk rockers, it was very interesting in the beginning. And of those older punk rockers, a lot of them were actually outcasts as well.

D: Yeah.

G: Within a scene so. And maybe they weren’t even full-on punk rockers, they were just a guy with a leather jacket at a bar who just saw something in us.

D: Yeah. That’s cool. The Patron Jonathan Clark is asking, “Do you have any rituals or practices that you do to find your center, wait for yes, get connected, see the good, the true, the beautiful in others, or let go a bit?” Basically he’s kinda asking if you have any meditative, mindfulness, something to practice.

G: Right right. I really enjoy T.M., Transcendental Meditation. Actually, I’m in an interesting spot with this though.

D: That’s where you’re chanting.

G: A mantra, yeah. You have a mantra and you kind of just repeat it in your head. It helps you, basically when you’re doing it, it releases negative energy and tension and things like that, and it’s very good. But sometimes, at least in my experience, and this is why I’ve kinda paused my practice at the moment, sometimes it could release trauma and things like that, and sometimes you end up reliving that and it makes it- and granted, your body is letting go of it, but sometimes it’s hard and I found when it would get its most intense, I would catastrophize things in my head and be- so I would be focusing on the mantra, but then things would happen like I would be thinking about the worst things that could happen to my family or my loved one, or something bad happening to them or getting hurt.

D: Is that something that happens to you? Do you tend to catastrophize in general?

G: Sometimes. I do tend to catastrophize sometimes, and it’s something I work on in therapy. I’m a big believer in talk therapy and, I don’t try to push medication on anybody, but I always just share my experience, and that it’s helped me.

D: Yeah.

G: I was somebody who was extremely imbalanced all through the years of My Chemical Romance, and go through these extreme highs and crushing lows where I wouldn’t get out of bed for like three months, but then I would be in a manic phase, and I would be up until 4am working on zines all of the sudden, and I would say to Lindsey, “I don’t need to sleep. Why do people sleep? I don’t get it.” So there was a lot of that, and then Lindsey found me a therapist and we did a lot of really hard work and I faced myself a lot, I looked inward. And at the same time, before we were able- before we explored and did the work, we stabilized my brain chemistry. That was the key. Once we were able to stabilize my brain chemistry-

D: You were able to actually…

G: Do the work, yeah. So, I am a big believer in T.M., it’s just that sometimes I struggle with it, but I know all I have to do is check in with the T.M. center and explain what I’m going through, and actually my therapist had found me this woman who’s one of the heads of, I’m not sure if it’s the David Lynch Foundation or something else, she actually said, “You should come in, I’ll talk to you, I’ll walk you through the trauma stuff and all the hard stuff.” But I’m a big believer in it because when it was cooking, and there were two months this year where it was totally changing my life until some of the negative came out. It was, I was a more productive, more focused, calmer, more engaged, more present. I’m a believer in it and a big believer in therapy and just having somebody to talk to.

D: Yeah. That’s awesome. On the drive up, I was thinking about Umbrella Academy and I really love it in general. I remember getting the comic when it came out. The show turned out so great. Are you really happy with it?

G: Yeah yeah! I’m totally happy. At the end of the day, it was somebody else’s vision and I was able to let go of that. I think I needed to. When the process first started in making it a TV show.

D: That’s gotta be hard.

G: It’s hard.

D: That’s your baby.

G: Yeah yeah! But I was really upfront when I was talking. I went in to meet with UCP and Dawn and the people there. I was with Dark Horse and they said, “What is your goal?” And I said, “My goal is to make great comics because I already went through a whole big thing with Universal trying to make this a movie and it just drained me.”

D: Oh okay.

G: And it was full of really difficult things, it took up a lot of my time, and disappointments, and I really turned my focus back to comics because I was like, that’s where you’re in charge. Nobody can- you have an editor, obviously, if you have a great editor, you’re doing great work together and you’re making changes, but it doesn’t feel like something creative is being ruled by committee, and that’s what it feels like in Hollywood. I was really upfront with Dawn and I said, “I want to make great comics so you guys have good material to make a good show.” I ended up being more involved than that. The extent of my involvement is giving notes, especially about things like wardrobe, costumes, the look and feel of the world, the fact that it’s kind of an alternate reality, and I give notes on scripts and I give notes on edits and things like that, so I am involved for sure. But I was able to realize this is somebody else’s baby and I’m happy with the results for sure. My whole thing is the proof is in the fact that everybody loves it.

D: I like Klaus a lot and I can’t remember, because I read the comics so long ago, how true to the book that character is.

G: Right.

D: Do you feel like it’s capturing what you were trying to get out with it? G: It is capturing, yeah. It’s capturing, to me, what Robert who plays Klaus, he’s capturing this kind of sadness and tragedy to the character. Also obviously, the humor. In the comic, Klaus is a little bit more of what I call a dry goth. He’s very nihilistic in some ways.

D: Not quite as whimsical, maybe.

G: Yeah, not quite as whimsical as what Robert ended up doing. But the way Robert approached the character really ended up working and he adds a lot of humanity to the character, that maybe there’s not so much of it, or you don’t see it very often in the comic with Klaus. Klaus just does bad things and makes bad decisions and obviously, a lot of that is coming from a place of trauma that he experienced as a child, and in the show, it’s cool because the drug use is there to help him quiet the voices in his head. They explored that a lot deeper and I thought that that was really cool.

D: Is that less of a focus in the comic?

G: A little bit. I never really explored the fact that he’s constantly seeing and hearing and talking to ghosts, and so these drugs kind of quiet his mind. I’d never explored that really deeply.

D: Which is cool because you, it’s another evidence of you’re building a world and someone else was living in it, and then they were like, “Well yeah.”

G: Yeah!

D: “Of course he’s like that,” and you’re like, “Well dang.”

G: Yeah! That’s a cool thing. They’re able to point at things you weren’t seeing because sometimes when I’m doing stuff like creating a world like Umbrella Academy, a lot of it is running off the subconscious. A lot of it is, some things you don’t realize you’re putting in there. And when they look at making a TV show or a movie, they really kinda deconstruct it and look at it and say, “Well, this makes sense because of this.”

D: Some of the beauty with the comic is that the concise kind of form makes it to where you don’t always have to trace down all of these rabbit trails, but when you're trying to blow it up into something else, you’ve gotta figure out how to make sense of it all.

G: Mhm. And to bring it back to the question of a sense of wonder. That was the other thing I thought about this morning when you asked me the question was, “what do I get a sense of wonder from,” and comics were a big one. Because to me- and then I would later reinforce these feelings when I started making them and writing them. You could do anything in them and that’s really what’s beautiful about them. I also love the mechanics of them, because there’s definitely things you could do in comics that you can’t do in film and TV and I love that. So I’ve really learned to embrace the medium when I’m writing them. I think I’m writing comics that are definitely comics, and they’re not just a TV show playing out in a comic.

D: Yeah. How much do you draw your own stuff just to get your ideas going? Or is it more conceptual?

G: Quite a bit. No, I do- well especially for something like, less so on Doom Patrol but Umbrella Academy, Gabriel Ba, the artist and I have this really cool relationship and I think the ideas kinda need to start with me, and I’ll do a sketch and then Gabriel will completely reinterpret that and kinda make it much cooler and much better.

D: That's because that’s your complete world from scratch, whereas with Doom Patrol you’re reinventing something?

G: In the beginning, Umbrella was definitely my complete world from scratch and I had this idea, but Gabriel, especially even in the early days, he helped build that world. I was able to give him a couple references and I’m like, “I don’t know, maybe it’s the ‘60s, maybe it’s the ‘70s. People are dressed like the ‘60s and cars look like they’re from the ‘60s, but there's modern things too.” And he loves drawing architecture, which you don’t find a lot of in comics. A lot of people try to stay away from the buildings in the background and the architecture, but he embraces the architecture so he really built that world with me in the beginning. But we still have our process and the process usually, not always but usually is, especially if it’s a villain or something like that, I’ll do some kind of sketch, even if it’s bad, and then Gabriel will take that and make it something.

D: That’s cool. Collaboration is terrifying and super fun when it’s working.

G: Yeah! When it’s working, it’s amazing, yeah. I love collaborating, and I’ve learned to really embrace it over the years. Delegating and collaborating were two skills I really needed to get really good at, and I think I got better at collaborating after the band. Although, we were pretty good about collaborating in the band, I just got better at it though.

D: Yeah. It’s definitely for Thrice, the most fun but also the hardest thing for sure, and it causes the most tension.

G: Right. Yeah, for sure.

D: Just because you care.

G: Because you care, yeah! You care, and sometimes you do see or hear a complete vision so you want that realized.

D: I think that’s the hardest part. You’re like, “I see all this,” and you’re like, “Okay but there’s three other people.”

G: Yeah!

D: Every single time that I’m set on something, and then everyone else is like, “Dude, no,” every time by the end, I’m like, “Wait, what was I stuck on?”

G: Yeah.

D: It didn’t matter anymore.

G: Yeah!

D: It’s totally a psychological issue at that point.

G: It is!

D: “It has to be this way.” No, it could be a million ways and they’re all different and cool.

G: Yeah. And that’s what I learned too when collaborating on music, is exactly what you just said. You don’t even remember what you were hung up on.

D: Totally.

G: Because it’s just much better after everybody's worked on it.

D: It’s very similar to being super upset about something in the moment and you’re just not thinking clear, and you sleep and you wake up and you’re like, “I was real upset about that. It doesn't seem like a big deal anymore.”

G: Yeah.

D: Time travel is a big thing in Umbrella Academy.

G: Yeah.

D: Which it’s notoriously troublesome to write stories with time travel.

G: Yeah.

D: And not have it just fall apart. If you’re trying to get a specific future, you have to have a bunch of people constantly fixing these things.

G: Right right!

D: I like that way of interpreting because usually it’s, “Oh, we fixed this one thing,” and you expect it to just keep going straight, but no way.

G: Right. I really like that the show took that from the comic and really explored it. All these people making these little corrections, sometimes they’re violent corrections, but sometimes they’re very simple. But time travel is such a pain in the ass. I did not envy them when they were starting to do the writer’s room for Umbrella Academy.

D: They try to make it all work.

G: Try to make it all work. And they’d have to put up these big timeline boards and be like, “Alright, this happens this year,” and that’s what I was doing when I was writing the second volume, Dallas, because there’s not much- I don’t think there’s any real time travel, besides Number 5 coming back, there’s no real time travel in volume one, Apocalypse Suite. But Dallas is all about it, so that was the hardest volume I’ve ever had to write, because time travel is just, it’s so hard.

D: Are there any stories that you like that you feel do it really well?

G: I don’t know if I’ve read enough time travel stories. I mean, I thought Back To The Future did it really well.

D: But then I always get stuck on the idea that you have to, there’s an endless cycle of Martys that have to go back.

G: Oh right!

D: And keep- my brain breaks when I try to be like, “But what if he doesn’t? Then none of it works anymore?” It all breaks.

G: Yeah, it can break very easily, and I think almost every time travel story has the possibility of completely breaking, or at least in some person’s mind out there, it is broken.

D: Yeah.

G: So sometimes you have to take time travel stories almost at face value and be like, “Alright, this works.”

D: Yeah, you can’t- well I think part of that is on the writer or whoever’s making it to address and deflect. The Brian McDonald guy I was telling you about, he talks about that somewhere where he’s like, “You gotta spot the problem and then you just need to have some character address it, and then sweep it away,” just so that it helps whoever’s watching or whatever, it helps them be like, “Oh yeah, what about this?” And then, “Oh, they thought about it.”

G: Yep.

D: And it’s not like it’s making it perfect, right? But it gives you permission to let it go, I think.

G: Yeah yeah. And you do have to address these concerns. I realized my answer might have been possibly a little lazy about taking things at face value, but one of the things I had to do in Dallas was address every concern that I thought the reader would have. 

D: Which is great. When you do the addressing, it lets the reader or the watcher or whatever, it lets them let it go and enjoy the story.

G: Yeah, exactly. I’m about to start volume four of Umbrella Academy and I’m really happy because I don’t think it’s gonna have any time travel in it, so I think we’re a little bit away from more time travel in Umbrella Academy.

D: Alright, this is a question from Mike Morale, he says, “In his recent arc, Cliff Steele aka Robotman, regains his humanity, at least in outward form. But on Gerard’s latest, ahem, cliffhanger, Steele burns it all up after facing the painful inhumanity of someone with power to hurt him. I suppose my question is, how do we protect the precious beauty of our humanity while remaining vulnerable to those who have meaning in our lives?”

G: Oh wow. How do we protect that humanity? Well that’s a big question, because especially with given how the world is now and the toxicity out there online and things like that, how do you protect your humanity? Because toxicity, like the kind that Cliff experiences when he goes to visit his mother in that nursing home, it’s a very real thing and it’s something you have to deal with. I don’t know how you hold onto your humanity, it’s hard sometimes.

D: While being vulnerable too.

G: While being vulnerable, yeah exactly.

D: Which I guess is almost synonymous to holding onto your humanity.

G: Yeah. 

D: Because you could close off but that’s not good.

G: Yeah exactly. I know this isn’t the healthier, great answer, but I think one of the things I did was to kind of remove myself from certain social medias. But it wasn't unhealthy because what I did was I decided to look inward at that point. Instead of, and I could tell you as many harsh people are on the internet, I was much harsher on myself. I looked in and I asked myself tough questions, I really asked myself what’s right and wrong. I think about these things deeply when I’m writing, but holding onto your humanity is very hard. And Cliff, obviously, he doesn’t hold on to that humanity, and he goes back into his cage because that makes sense to Cliff.

D: His follow up question was, “And does skin make the man, or can metal reflect who we really are just as well?”

G: I believe metal can reflect who we are just as well. I think Cliff Steele is very much Cliff whether he’s a human or a robot. He’s still Cliff and I think that’s one of the things that’s great about the character and why he’s so fun to write because no matter what, he’s still Cliff.

D: I wonder if there's anything you’ve been listening to, watching, reading, that you think people should check out?

G: Let’s see. What have I been reading recently? Well, this is old but I just decided to reread Lord Of The Rings from start to finish, and I made it through the books rather quickly and they’re just such a joy to read. They’re so relaxing, but there is a real build up to Lord Of The Rings. It gets so dark at one point, and horrific, but there’s a calm and a peace to reading it. And the way Tolkien writes, you’re just thinking about the greenery and the trees and the rivers and all of those things, and so it’s a real relaxing read for as much as it ramps up. I have a hard time watching TV. I feel really trapped when I’m watching it so I tend not to watch it at all, which is interesting about having a TV show. I bring a different perspective when I’m giving notes because I don’t watch a lot of TV. And more or less the only TV I watch is edits of Umbrella Academy. But every once in a while, Lindsey will rope me into a show that she feels like I absolutely have to watch, and she did that with Breaking Bad, and I’m really grateful she did. She literally rewatched the whole thing with me, made me watch it, and it’s still one of the best I’ve ever seen. And then she got me into Cobra Kai, have you seen that?

D: No, is it good?

G: I think it’s really good, yeah. Especially the first season is really amazing.

D: I had huge doubts about if that would be good at all.

G: Yeah, watch the first season and one of the things that actually helped hook me into the show is the episodes are a half hour, so it was really cool. I didn’t feel as much of a prisoner of the television when I was watching them, because you can watch a half hour and be done.

D: But books don’t make you feel that way? They expand.

G: Books are my favorite thing, yeah. Books are- you know how a lot of people will use a television to kind of tune out and shut off and relax? I use books to do that, so there’s piles of books next to my bed.

D: Thanks so much for sitting down. It’s been so good to talk to you.

G: You too! It’s been a long time. I miss you.