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bronzeageyuri · 7 months ago

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okay one more h.ades fic this is a thesterius one and one of my favs that i've made... it's mostly a comedy / "fluff" but it does also discuss Internalized Racism (💔) there's also some very small suggestive moments

this was basically at attempt at making an in-universe reason for why theseus' portrait in game doesn't really Look like him (though the real world reason is simply that it's recycled concept art)

When the vile hellspawn sauntered into the arena, and announced to Theseus that he’d commissioned a portrait of the king during his princehood, he at first thought of it as a foolish attempt at a diversion. That Zagreus— did his vile schemes have no end? It was not the first time he’d attempted to drive Theseus into a tortuous rage, and it certainly would not be the last. And besides that, what use did he have for such a painting? As Theseus once again pierced Zagreus’ flesh with his ruby spear, and once again sent him back to the bowels of hell, he concluded that his words must have been nothing but lies. One day or night, however, the Lord Hades called Theseus to his dank house for a performance review (it was brief, of course. Lord Hades had his complaints, but the simple fact of that matter is that there was no one else within Blessed Fields who desired the title of champion). Not yet ready to return to Elysium, he wandered around the place, observing the many changes that had occurred in the time between his last visit and now. Upon entering the small west hall (and passing by the Great Achilles who had dismissed him with I’m working right now, King Theseus…), he found a piece of his own legacy hanging upon the wall there. The portrait was familiar: a near perfect replica of one he'd posed for in life. His father Aegeus had commissioned it soon after claiming Theseus as his son, but it was not completed until after his return from Crete. Despite this it was still completed with his father's specifications in mind, to honour him after his untimely death; the prince within the portrait had his ambiguities removed, and therefore looked rather unlike Theseus. One would mistake the fantasy-prince as being a grandchild of Pandion, with his pale skin and smaller nose. But the Theseus of reality shared no blood with the former king.

He remembers the discomfort he felt at the time, feelings he wasn't able to put into words. Aegeus had wanted his son to look like a proper prince, but what exactly did those words mean? To this day, he didn’t know. Theseus scowled. Were the painting not rightful property of the underworld’s lord and master, he would have gladly pried it from the wall and tossed it into the Styx to drown. All he could do for now was leave and hope that next time he appeared, it would be replaced with something more tasteful. -----------------------------------

When Theseus returned home, Asterius was sitting outside, half buried in their garden of wildflowers. The bull held in his hands a large book, its pages decorated with golden detailing. Butterflies of shimmering light would occasionally flitter onto his horns, then leave just as fast. Theseus’ heart swelled at the sight. How fortunate he was to have Asterius in his life! He didn’t have many kind words for his prince-self, but he could appreciate that even back then, he sensed that there was something special about Asterius. Theseus stood before him, then dropped down to his haunches. Asterius’ ears twitched in response. “Asterius, my dear friend… what are you reading?” Asterius looked up. His head tilted inquisitively, but if he noticed something amiss, he did not mention it. “A lone warrior is attempting to rescue a princess. But it is not his true quest.” “Oh yes? May I read it alongside you?” Asterius patted the ground beside himself, inviting Theseus to sit. He wasted no time positioning himself next to Asterius with his head resting against the bull’s sturdy shoulder. Theseus listened closely as the bull read out loud to him. It was something they’d done more times than he could count, often with Theseus voicing the most theatrical characters. For now, however, all he wanted to do was be comforted by the sound of Asterius’ sweet voice… “Theseus…” “Hmm?!” Theseus jolted, blinking blearily at Asterius. “Ah, did I fall asleep? I apologize, my friend!”

Theseus yawned before lazily throwing himself over the bull’s lap. In any other scenario he would have rolled onto his back so he could gaze lovingly at Asterius’ shapely jaw, and the cute shape of his snout. Asterius was perfect in every which way, and needed no portrait to immortalize it… unlike himself, apparently.

“I take it your meeting with Hades went poorly.”

“Not quite, dearest. My meeting with the Lord Hades went wonderfully! I am upset for… other reasons.”

“Such as?”

“Such as— that damnable portrait he has hanging on the west wall! Depicting myself, as a prince.” Theseus gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “The boy within its frame is a stranger to me. He is the one who killed you so very long ago, and…”

“And?”

“Even physically he is different. His skin paler, his nose smaller, his jaw more elegant! It is a perfect replicant not of myself… but of a portrait my father once commissioned, long ago…” When Theseus arrived within Athens as a young prince, he was thought of as a foreigner. His father, being born of Egypt, did not help in this regard. While there were plenty who followed the teachings of Apollo in that foreigners should be treated with grace, there were others who looked at Theseus with disdain due to his lack of Athenian noble blood, and many more viewed Aegeus as some kind of usurper. In an attempt to solve this problem, Aegeus had a multitude of portraits of himself made. He was so very similar to Theseus’ grandfather, obsessed with the idea of being preserved through history. But those portraits always depicted Aegeus in the way he wanted to be viewed, rather than how he truly was. Looking at paintings alone, there was no doubt that Aegeus was the son of Pandion, descendant of Erichthonius. But to look at Aegeus himself, and to compare him to his siblings, or even Athen’s previous rulers, it was clear there was no blood shared between them.

Preoccupied as he was with his thoughts, Theseus did not hear the sound of Asterius’ book closing. It was only when the bull’s furred hand cupped his jaw, brushing its thumb over his cheek, that Theseus’ attention returned to his dearest friend. “You are handsome and true, king. None in Elysium could hope to compare to you.”

“Oh, bull!” Theseus gasped, “How kind you are. But your praise is not needed! In fact, allow me… I simply must reward you for allowing me to nap besides you, after all.” “You slept for a mere few minutes…” “Even so!” Theseus planted a firm kiss against Asterius’ snout. “You, my bull…” he sighed, “Are without parallel. You’ve a unique beauty that cannot be rivaled. And more so than that, you are the most handsome Minotaur in all of Elysium!!” “The only Minotaur in all of Elysium,” Asterius corrected. When Theseus pouted in response, Asterius gave a soft snort in laughter. “You deserve a better portrait, king.”

“It is you, my bull, who deserves a portrait! Perhaps, after this, I will find an artist to hire for the task…”

“I would paint you,” Asterius replied. “I would capture your beauty in truth.”

“Oho? Are you being quite truthful, dear bull?”

“I am. I will.”

“Such kindness from you, such generosity… Asterius, Asterius…”

As Theseus continued to plant kisses against his most cherished companion, the topic of painting was soon forgotten by him altogether…. But Asterius remembered.

And so, it was a few weeks later when the bull surprised his king with this:

“King, allow me to paint you.”

“You want to… oh! Oh, yes. That conversation…”

Theseus hummed, lost in thought. Ah, how he loved the idea of posing for his beloved bull! But Theseus knew himself well, and knew that every time he posed for a portrait, he quickly grew antsy, impatient, and most of all restless. Indeed, he was a famously difficult client to deal with even as he lived! Asterius was a patient bull (something Theseus appreciated immensely), but he did not wish to put him through that sort of trouble for what was at the time merely a passing thought. Theseus wracked his brain for a solution, though he struggled to come up with something satisfactory. Still, Asterius deserved an answer, and Theseus intended to give him one.

“I must admit, my friend, that I find myself somewhat intimidated by the idea of posing for a painting! It has been quite a long time since I’ve last done so.” As he spoke, Theseus’ words and his budding thoughts tumbled into one another, and his next words became an impulsive suggestion. “Perhaps, instead of a painting, we could try sketching one another…?” Theseus’ expression turned grim at his own words; what was he thinking? He had of course dabbled in art before just as any king would, but his skills were next to nothing. But darling Asterius’ eyes lit up in excitement, glittering like two gemstones. He loved the idea, by the gods. “King, if you are willing…”

"Ah, w-well!” Theseus desperately tried to think of a way to retract his offer, but Aasterius looked so joyous at just the idea, and Theseus was loath to deny him such a simple request. “...Alright, my friend. From this moment onwards, the two of us shall temporarily relinquish our title as champions, and take on the role of artists!" -------------------------------------

There was a small area behind Theseus' home where a pond glittered with blue water. While the pair had plenty of fish tanks inside their home, the pond held many larger, exotic species. It was one of Asterius' favourite places to come and relax after a battle, especially when ghostly waterfowl would occasionally come to swim upon the surface.

It was here that they sat out their supplies to begin painting together. Theseus had long ago asked the shade of a carpenter to create an easel big enough for Asterius to comfortably use, which then led to the construction of paint brushes and other such items meant for his larger hands. Theseus wanted to have them engraved with an array of intricate patterns, but Asterius had pointed out that they would end up becoming decorative items by that point, rather than tools he could actually utilize.

Still, Theseus felt his heart swell with pride at the sight of Asterius elegantly seated across from him, his hair unstyled, falling in loose curls around his bullish face. Asterius of course looked handsome in any scenario, but there was something special about seeing him without his armor, relaxed and idling. There was none other within Elysium who had this unique privilege, after all, and Theseus would be sure to cherish every moment he could— “...King.” “Ah? Yes, my dear bull?” “You’ve been staring at me.” he snorted, clearly amused. “Get to work.” Theseus pouted, but did not complain as he finally turned his eyes towards his easel and the blank parchment upon it. Though it had been quite some time since he took lessons in art, he still remembered some of the basics. Where to start, though? Theseus supposed, with the head.

Asterius' bullish face was gorgeous in its uniqueness. From his luscious eyelashes, to the rich brown of his eyes, to the soft caramel-cream tone that coloured the bridge of his snout. However… it was not the easiest thing for a beginner artist to draw. If he broke down the shapes to their bare essentials, Asterius' head was something of a rectangle. He would begin there. Theseus pressed his pencil to the parchment. Somehow, his attempt at a rectangle looked more like a lopsided disc. Theseus tried again— this time getting something more akin to an elongated tube. A third time, with a furious determination, and somehow his clumsy hands managed to create a perfect square. Theseus was baffled beyond all reason- but it was good enough for now. With a shaky hand, he used this as a base to render the rest of Asterius’ head, including a glittery eye with long lashes, an adorable snout with a shimmering nose ring, and two tall horns… The end result was something more of an giant and overdetailed eye with long hairs growing off of it attached to a pair of overly long rods. Theseus’ hand hovered over the drawing, half tempted to tear it up and just take it from the top. But he knew that even if he did start over, his second attempt would not be much better.

(As his dread grew, Theseus couldn’t keep himself from once again focusing on Asterius. The Minotaur was working with intent, as if he knew what he was doing. Surely he wasn’t experiencing this same childish panic Theseus felt...) If he could not draw Asterius’ head properly, then perhaps his body would be easier. He had touched his muscles many times up until now, felt them beneath his hand, pressed against his body both in combat and in… other scenarios. He knew them as well as he knew his own! Yes, this would be simple! It was not. While Theseus could be proud that he’d managed to capture the shape of Asterius’ forearms fairly well, the rest of it was disproportional, not to mention the fact that he had become… engrossed while depicting his companion’s chest, and may have exaggerated more than is appropriate. The idea of starting on his legs was intimidating, now. Could he depict them in all their glory? He could at least do this properly, couldn’t he?

Theseus pressed his pencil to the page, and scribbled passionately. The end result was two awkwardly bent sticks, one slightly larger the other, both ending in round clubs for feet. Gazingly blankly at the page, the king sat in stunned silence.

He wasn’t particularly skilled in this regard, true, but he’d assumed he could at least do better than this. The drawing in its current state was a clear insult to Asterius’ beauty, and that was unforgivable. Theseus again looked over at his partner. Dear, sweet Asterius was so concentrated, no doubt creating a masterpiece that would make Theseus cry tears of joy once he laid his eyes upon it. And what did Theseus have to repay his kindness with? A drawing that looked as if it was created by a child. No— a child could surely do better than this! Perhaps he should start over after all? So long as he does so before Asterius completed his drawing— “...Theseus.” “Hah? Ah! Yes, my friend…?” Much to the king’s surprise, Asterius’ voice was tingned the slight irritation of having called out to him several times now, though Theseus, lost in thought as he was, did not notice. “I’ve finished.” “Ah! You’ve finished!” Typically Theseus would admire the speed at which Asterius could work, but at this moment it was an absolute hindrance. He could not help but to wonder if it would be possible to subtly (intentionally) dump his canvas into the pond water and request a do-over. So preoccupied he was with his plans that he nearly did not hear Asterius’ sighing:

"Mine did not come out great…” he admitted. "I was nervous."

Theseus had grabbed his easel in preparation for shoving it over, but Asterius’ words stopped him in his tracks. When Aserius looked at him strangely, Theseus sat back down with an awkward chuckle,

"Nervous…?" Theseus mused, trying to hide his own anxiousness. "From gazing upon my handsome visage, I'm sure!"

"Yes." Asterius’ honesty always shocked Theseus, even now. "I wanted to draw your features properly. I was nervous."

"I… I see!" Theseus was sure his face was heating up, now. How was it that Asterius was able to fluster him so easily, without any effort? "Well, I'm sure it's not any worse than mine! Shall we, erm…?"

Both men awkwardly clung to their canvases, seemingly unwilling to let the other gaze upon his creation.

"In that case!" Theseus eventually said "I suppose I shall go first! Promise me you will not laugh?"

“I prom— huh.” Theseus flipped his canvas so Asterius could see his creation in all its lopsided glory. A snout that had been erased and redrawn so many times it began to look more like smudged pencil marks than anything resembling a head, horns growing out sideways from its forehead. His overly-large chest was at a strange contrast with his comparatively smaller body, which became stranger still with his oddly proportioned legs.

Asterius did a good job of not laughing… for a mere few seconds. But soon his body tensed, and his shoulders shook, and a strange wheezing noise came from his throat. And Asterius- he laughed, guffawing at the drawing Theseus displayed to him, his body shaking so terribly his art supplies got knocked over. Theseus pouted, offended. “Is my art truly so funny?! Show me yours, th— hmm?!”

Theseus’ words devolved into strained choking when Asterius showed the work he’d created. Theseus’ nose was large, but here it was drawn exaggeratedly. His posture was some bizarre cross between the elegance of a swan, and the buffoonery of a satyr. At some point the bull realized he’d drawn Theseus’ chiton over the wrong shoulder, resulting in him wearing what appeared to be some type of bizarre tunic, and that goes without mentioning the lopsided grin he wore. Theseus was baffled. But beyond that, he loved it. He loved the drawing so much he could only express it by slumping down to his knees, and burying his face in his hands to muffle his increasingly high pitched wails of delight.

"That bad, is it?"

"Asterius, I adore it!! I simply must have it framed somewhere in my bedroom at once!"

Asterius gave a haughty snort, causing his nose ring to sway. "Absolutely not."

"Asterius, please, I am begging! See, I am already on my knees. In turn, I'll allow you to do whatever you'd please with the work I created! I’m sure you’d give Patroclus quite a chuckle if you showed it to him, next time you are together!" “Hmm…” Asterius tilted his head in thought. “I have a better idea.” “Oh yes?” The two champions began to gather up their art supplies, all while Asterius told his king of his idea. Soon they were distracted and found themselves sitting at the end of the pond, chatting eagerly as they watched Elysium’s false sky transform into a watercolour of orange and pink, before fading into a starry night sky.

--------------------------------------- Within their shared home, Theseus and Asterius posed together as the shade of an old painter prepared a portrait for them both. Asterius was used to sitting still for an extended period of time, but Theseus couldn’t help but to shake his leg, or rub Asterius’ hand, or try to start a conversation (leading to him quickly being hushed). Just as he predicted, Thesus still found the process of being painted to be an extremely sluggish affair. Rather than sitting and looking nice next to Asterius, he’d much, much, much rather be busy with cherishing him. But they had all the time in the world for that, he supposed. He could attempt to ignore his own restlessness, at least for now. And yet… When the shade announced that they’d finished, Theseus could not help but to groan out an exasperated “Finally!”, and even Asterius slumped backwards in his seat with a sigh, exhausted from having to hold his pose for so long. Within the painting, Theseus was wearing the blue cloak he once treasured as a youth, with Asterius wearing a matching one in a slightly darker hue. He sat poised on the bull’s broad lap, his smile vibrant, and Asterius’ curls were decorated with all his favourite flowers. Though it was just a painting, he could still feel the love Asterius had in his eyes. How strange it was, that his heart swelled with joy seeing this version of himself— the version of himself that had Asterius by his side, for now and for always. Soon the painting was placed within a frame of elaborate gold (Theseus had rushed out and purchased it mere minutes after Asterius suggested the idea of a professional painting, impulsive as always), and hung within their main room, next to several smaller paintings of Theseus’ family, and some created by Asterius himself.

(And on the wall immediately beside the portrait, folded up within a simple wooden frame, two amateurish paintings rested side by side, both signed with pride by their artists.)

#📚 codex #👑🐂 the king and the bull (thesterius)

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thegeneralguy · 4 years ago

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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.

#musclegrowth #transformation #championofolympus

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