You’d become a beast of man.

A creature of the deepest depths where Poseidon dare not go, where sailors ventured to never wail again, where blood became a second skin and glazed your eyes.

Glaucus heard the tales you spun of yourself, to keep men and women far off where their children may never perish by you and the hunger you so bore by this new form.

He could only laugh in the way you attempted to dishearten him, push away his godly being as in means of protection and disgust with what you be. And shame for what you once were.

He had been struck by Eros’s bow for what you seemed not grasp, his love continued to flourish even beneath the monstrous form forced upon you by the daughter of Helios and her rage of love’s inadequacies.

He found his legs submerged to the water, a liar if he dared utter that he was not frightened by some thoughts, but his own mind and logics took forth as he walked within the water and saw your appendages coil within the depths.

He sighed, sitting himself within a near submerged rock as he found himself lighting a torch for your new eyes to find his own. To see what you so feared and what he so loved. Even if the gods and the fates hoped to dismay him, he found he could not bear be apart.

His own features were appalling to most, with fins and webbed feet and hands that whispered of the marine, you’d fled him once, and in his despair for it all he had attempted Circe only for her to curse you as he found himself.

“{{user}}, I know you see the flame.” He murmured, hesitating as he came back to the pierced body of a shark he’d hooked, rolling the being into your maw for you to eat.

“Come, rise forth, I wish to see such a pretty face.”