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idesofrevolution · 5 months

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Never Sleep with Your Phone On

Throughout recorded history, humans have been terrified of the dark. They created stories of sordid creatures of the night that would creep out from beneath your bed and drag you to some subterranean lair to languish in your final moments; or slither out of your mirror if you left it uncovered when your lights were extinguished to steal your soul from your snoring lips. The tales and cryptids across all cultures were all effective in terrifying their communities once the sun set on the horizon. Though that is not necessarily to say that every tale was crafted from pure imagination.

When technology bloomed, humans believed that the horrifying superstitions of yore were long behind them. They had evolved past the primitive fears of what lurks in the shadows, where in reality they had become complacent, arrogant, and lulled. Certainly some of the eldritch creatures had subsided, as all creatures do eventually. Though for every dead legend, a new myth sprouts, and each of those grew and evolved right there along with us. Which, of course, brings us to Asher.

Asher West was, by all accounts, a fairly normal guy. Graduated from high school, going straight into college on a modest academic scholarship. He played frisbee golf with his friends on the weekends, studied hard from 9 to 5, and was seldom seen without a cup of Starbucks in the mornings. He had a sizeable social media following, as was expected for someone with a traditionally handsome visage and adequately charismatic personality. Every day he'd happily post a quick selfie, posting for his thousands of admirers a run of the mill shirtless pic, often without so much as a filter. It'd almost become muscle memory for him: tap the camera icon, snap the pic, post with some benign emojis as the caption, and boom. 900 likes as the day meandered on. Did it provide him with a momentary burst of endorphins? Yes. Was it satisfying? Somewhat, at least he thought so. Years of his staggeringly average life had been all but usurped by this second life online, where he was glamorous, exciting, and adored.

It was so much easier to live in that fantasyland than to truly be present in the real world around him. He, as many of us are, was living his life as someone else- and a life that spectacled easily caught attention. It was easy to come across him in the sea of countless names and faces. It was easy to stumble upon that pretty face. It was easy find, attracting more than just starry eyed fans. Skulking in the void between lines of 1 and 0, buried deep in the infinite cosmic vacuum of the world electric and technological, another pair of eyes would befall him.

It had slinked into his vast sphere rather quickly, and it had begun to watch. Watching each and every 'tasteful' selfie, every vapid thought that he'd post, and every like and pin he'd make, it watched him with empty, expressionless black eyes from within a fragment of his phone's memory. It studied him, curious at first. Things of its nature were always curious, always inclined to watch and analyze and replicate. Even as he slept, his phone siphoning it's charge from it's cable, it would read. The more it saw, the more it had learned about Asher. In fact, it knew more of Asher than perhaps he himself was aware of, if not able to admit.

It had seen those intimate moments he'd taken careful measure to hide from the vast majority of those watching eyes. Second accounts under pseudonyms, gave way to countless of hidden alternate lives he lived: Tumblr blogs dedicated to bad-boy thrist traps and queer erotica, Twitter accounts cataloguing pictures and videos of his closest kept kinks, a well used and well loved Chaturbate account with his face tastefully cropped out of frame... all these lives immortalized in the endless archives of the internet. And after all it's patient watching, all the hours of analyzing, all the months of consuming his information, it had grown an attachment.

Asher had come home late one night. Not unusual for him, as the occasional party wouldn't derail his real life ambitions. After a few libations, and no small amount of cannabis, he'd made his way back home to his small apartment above the corner store. Just as he'd done numerous times before, he stripped himself of his shirt, pulling his camera from his jeans pocket, and snapped a slightly inebriated picture of himself. It'd be enough to boost his ego the next morning, enough to power through the long haul of his draining daily agenda.

SNAP. The flash of the camera went off, and his beloved face was shared for all to see. Though, that night, he mis stepped. Perhaps it was the booze, perhaps it was the toke, perhaps he was simply too tired to notice that he'd left the screen on. By the time he'd hit the bed he was out like a rock, collapsed onto the bed and quietly drifting to sleep. There on the brightly lit screen, in the darkness of the unlit bedroom, it saw its opportunity.

From it's perch on the nightstand, the phone began to spark. Small sparks at first, a quick fizzle and quiet pop. Then more: louder, brighter, faster. It began to rumble against the wooden tabletop, sizzling and sparkling as it danced before the screen went black and dead. Slowly, electric crackling gave way to a bubbling sludge. The glass subtly started wave and bellow, as if it were liquified, not taking long to begin to spill over the edges of it's metal frame. The black sludge fell like oil onto the hardwood floors, collecting in a growing, bubbling pool.

From the primordial ooze burst forth a long, slender arm; it's taloned fingers scraping as it braced itself on the ground. A second arm clawed it's way out, and with an echoing slosh, it had begun to pull itself out of the sludge. It's long, emaciated torso and thick muscled legs had slithered out, landing on two massive, clawed feet. It towered above Asher's bed as he slumbered, bent over so as not to hit it's back onto the eight foot ceiling. It stood there, looking at the person it'd observed and studied for so long. The image presented in the world it'd pried himself out of was nothing of what lay before it. From what it had gathered from his more clandestine dealings, it had noted that he was far from the archetypes he'd collected on Asher's behalf.

He did not have the tattoos like those he'd pinned on Pinterest. He was not wearing the dark, heavy clothes like those he'd saved on Instagram. He wasn't well endowed like the video's he'd favorited on X-Tube. He didn't give off the aura of some rebellious casanova like the stories he'd reblogged on Tumblr. To a creature of symmetry and consistency, this was an error to be corrected; a dichotomy requiring integration.

It crouched down above his drooling maw, gently caressing his head to face it's clenching claw. The talons pressed ever so tenderly past his lips and over his tongue, becoming the very black ooze it had crawled out of once more. It flooded down his throat as it's second arm made it's way into his mouth, as if it were being sucked into Asher. He was drinking it's essence, it's aqueous body slurping down into his core. It's torso compressed as it wriggled down his gullet, ringing out splashing squelches as Asher gargled it down.

As quickly as it had entered, it's long legs slithered into his mouth, leaving only its large feet thrashing about in the air. Asher's stomach was bubbling and undulating under the sheer pressure from this invasion, growing to a large gut spilling over the waistband of his jeans. One loud slurp and a crisp pop, and the feet slipped into him, leaving his writhing body squirming on the bed. It expanded within him, incorporating itself into every fibre of his being. Pressing into his arms, his legs, pushing up his throat until it met the top of his palate. The pressure began to mount, black goo dribbling down the corners of his mouth, until a wet crack sounded in his cavernous head, and it flowed into his skull.

It took mere seconds for it to reach his brain, which it flowed freely into throughout the grooves and nooks. Entirely coated, imbued and inoculated with it, the deed was done. Asher opened his eyes, tiredly sitting up in his bed. He looked over at his phone, tapping it with his finger: 3 AM.

At first it seemed like a nightmare. He could recall moments here and there, though the majority of his 'dream' was a blur. From what he could remember, it was nothing visual he could recollect... but it he could recollect the sensations. Wet, slimy, invasive, and cold- much like he felt drunkenly sleeping in his cold sweat. He brought himself to his feet, dragging his feet on the slippery floorboards to his bathroom.

Flipping the switch, the harsh fluorescent light flickered to life above him, as he turned the nozzle on his shower. Immediately, his jaw nearly dropped to the floor. In the mirror, Asher finally caught a glimpse of himself: strange black bruises and undulating bumps were scattered across his body. That pristine, smooth skin was now covered in sprawling web-like lesions from head to toe. He had mere moments to process the horror reflected in front of him before an immediate pain in the gut had him doubled over the counter.

His stomach started to bubble and groan, and through the foggy haze of his blurred vision he saw his feet begin to ripple and swell. He could feel the slick sweaty soles slide across the tile floor as they expanded and grew. As they reached a substantial size 13, the swelling crept it's way up his calves and into his thighs. Asher wobbled on his feet, as if they were filled with gelatin beneath his slippery skin while his knees began to buckle. He collapsed into a crouch, the fumes of sweaty footmusk bellowing up to his nostrils as his legs cracked and stretched above. He'd never truly experienced scentplay as he'd so dearly fantasized about throughout countless hours of edging to such content, nor had this funk ever emanated from his own soles. In the moment, he felt something within him prod into his brain. As if poking the individual folds of his cerebrum with thousands of tiny needles, causing cascades of thoughts to enter his mind- all of which telling him to embrace. In his mind's eye, he could see himself burying his face into his sweaty sole, between his long toes, lapping up every droplet of sweat that was spewing from his pores. The thought was buried deep in his subconscious, pried out with expert measure, by something now within him.

Grasping for anything to steady himself on, Asher gripped the edge of the sink, pulling himself upright once again and now towering above the countertop. He hung his aching head low, watching with strange newfound fervor as his cock began to feel heavier and heavier. Drool started to drip from the bottom of his lip, landing square onto the lengthening shaft. Like a sandbag, his balls dropped and swelled while he got harder and harder. Another onslaught of pinpricks in his head brought forth another command: stroke.

Steam started build in the bathroom as the hot water continued to fall from the shower, intensifying the scent wafting from now both his feet and his pendulous sac. Each breath of hot, wet musk hit like ecstasy, and with bated breath, he softly grasped ahold of his python and began to pump. Each knead of his engorged member was accompanied by a change. His fingers grew long and sinewy, smooth and slick with precum. His arms remained thin but toned, growing longer and packed with lean muscle. His torso lengthened, topped off with a firm pair of pecs above his sinewy abdomen.

As pressure began to build in his balls, his mind began to feel the needles one last time, imbuing his brain with one last injection of a single trait: pride. He didn't need the approval of anyone else, he was aware of how fucking hot he was. He didn't need to heed the rules that society had straddled him with, he always forged his own path. He had no fears of recompense for his attitude, his ego, his spirit- the world would either stand with him, or he would step on top of them. Either way, what bliss. As the last of his inhibitions and fears had gathered in his groin, he cried out in elation as he erupted. Rope after rope of black sludge shot from his cannon, washing him with a sense of relief he'd never before known. He released his grip on his softening cock, hanging at an obscene eleven inches. He smirked at the sludge coating his mirror and pooling beneath his toes. A sight like that would have shocked and terrified the old Asher, though as he stood before his reflection, devoid of any tension, he relented to the entity within him. It had delivered onto him a new self, a new image, a new viewpoint. As tattoos both vulgar and delicate began to sprawl across his skin, he happily admired his new likeness.

The entity had bestowed a gift to him; throughout the horror, throughout the fear, he was becoming the true Asher that had only ever peeked out from the abyss of his psyche. He leered, bringing his thumb and middle finger together before snapping loudly. From his pores, the black sludge began to spill across his body until he was nearly covered from the neck down in what appeared to be a rubber suit before it began to become a bit more defined. A plain white tee shirt, classically fashioned with a black and white varsity jacket from his college. Skinny, weathered black jeans barely containing his sizeable commando bulge beneath it's thin fabric. On his feet, a pair of white socks and tightly tied high top Chucks, quelling the ripe stink of his soles within the sneaker for some sub to pry off and enjoy.

He grinned, posing and modeling for himself, before he finally turned off the steaming water. After the long, arduous, painful process, the entity had incorporated itself entirely within him- now completely indistinguishable from parasitic to symbiotic. It had rewritten him, completely remade him in the likeness of who he had shown the vast virtual world. There was no cognitive dissonance, there were no lies, there was no deception. All that remained was the Asher he had created in his fantasy, now ready to fuck the real world and all within it.

Thus, as our creature feature comes to an end, I leave you with a modicum of friendly advice. Don't leave your phone on as you slumber, for those that are watching, those that are waiting, those that have been learning are a mere sheet of glass away from finding their way inside. Take my counsel, or ignore it. But do so knowing the outcome, and whether or not you are prepared to weather such a storm.

#body transformation #male transformation #original #transformation #musk #punkification #punk transformation #body possession #body invasion #symbiote #male symbiote #virtual cryptid #virtual symbiote #college

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rukafais · 5 months

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pspspsps people who are interested in Forgotten Realms devils have you heard the good word of Brimstone Angels, an excellent series by Erin M Evans that has two tiefling protagonists that are sisters raised by their dragonborn dad who adopted them, and covers Nine Hells hierarchy stuff, what it means to be a devil, life as a tiefling during a specific time period, and ALSO features a specific dragonborn culture?

Cause here's my recommendation, you should read it, it's fucking good actually.

Farideh made herself keep smiling, as if she couldn’t hear Criella’s implication that she ought not to have the book in the first place. “From Garago,” she said, naming the wizard whose book it was. “He lends books to Havilar and me sometimes.”

“Havilar and I, dear.” Farideh bit her tongue as Criella continued. “And where is your sister?”

“Inside, probably,” Farideh said. Criella pursed her lips, and the younger tiefling quickly added, “I haven’t seen her in some hours. She’s likely with Mehen.”

“Does Mehen know you’re borrowing magic books?” Criella asked.

Farideh turned it over and opened it to show the frontispiece. “It’s just a history book.”

“The Legacy of the Skyfire Emirates in the Calim?” Criella said. “What has you so interested in there of all places?”

Far, far to the west, other tieflings sometimes joined the fiery efreets in the Calim Desert in their perpetual war against their enemies, the djinns of the air. Criella didn’t have to say another word—Farideh knew what she was implying: Why was Farideh reading a book about rogue tieflings who aided monsters and known slavers? Didn’t Farideh understand that she—just like everyone else descended from devils and fiends—had to know her place, to stay safe somewhere like Arush Vayem, to be quiet and unnoticeable?

Or did Farideh want to be the sort of tiefling who made life hard for the rest of them?

“He mentioned them,” Farideh amended. “It seems like such a silly thing, don’t you think? For so many hostilities to range around something as unchangeable as one’s nature?”

Criella’s smile vanished altogether. “Ah. Is that something else Mehen has taught you?”

Farideh flushed. “That … the djinn shall always be djinn?” she said as innocently as she could, but her pulse raced. It had been too near to admitting there was something like fear lurking in herself. That the lines of descent that linked her to some long ago and faraway fiend were more powerful than anything she could affect. “I believe that’s why they’re called elemental,” Farideh added.

“Of course,” Criella said, but already she was studying Farideh as if there might be some sign of her true nature unfolding. Farideh blushed harder. Any of the human villagers would find Criella’s scrutiny too subtle to notice. But Farideh’s eyes were like Criella’s—she knew the shifts and flickers of a tiefling’s eyes. Criella wasn’t trying to hide her disquiet.

Farideh longed to tell Criella that she knew. That she hated it. That it was worse coming from someone like Criella, who was a tiefling too. Who had gotten the same scrutiny from someone else when she was Farideh’s age. Who had cut off her horns and clubbed her tail because of those looks and run away to Arush Vayem, a community of tieflings, dragonborn, and anyone else who wanted to disappear. ----

His path crossed a balcony that overlooked the Court of the Sixth, and Lorcan paused a moment. The archduchess herself perched on the throne, carved from the ivory that had been her predecessor’s teeth, her batlike wings curved around her like an icon’s niche. Coppery skinned and dark-haired, Glasya made Rohini look common. Glasya made everything look common. If corruption had a form, it was Glasya, and not a soul looked upon her that didn’t feel the urge to throw itself headlong into that corruption. She radiated like a star and she swallowed up the light around her. To look upon Glasya, Lord of the Sixth and Princess of the Hells, was a special sort of madness.

---

“His destruction would benefit many,” Ilstan said. “It would be a boon to us all, and—”

“Is he like Shar?” Farideh asked. Ilstan frowned at her. “Dahl told me once you worship Shar when grief overtakes you. You give her a little honor so that she eases the sadness through your life. That the evil of Shar is that she’ll try to pull you down into that darkness, to make you stay. Is he like that?”

Ilstan shifted uneasily. “One might say so.”

“Have you given him worship then?”

“I’ve … You can’t ask me that.”

Perhaps, but Farideh could picture it: you pray to Asmodeus in the dark, for protection from the darker things, from the darkness inside you, for the blindness of other gods to the sins of your heart, for a silver tongue and a weight on Kelemvor’s scales, come the day. Freedom from consequence.

Asmodeus is the god of easy paths, Farideh thought. A god of happiness, as he says it.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #brimstone angels

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thegayhimbo · 5 months

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Stranger Things Lucas on the Line Review

If you haven’t yet, be sure to check out my other Stranger Things Reviews. Like, Reblog, and let me know what your thoughts are regarding the show or the upcoming season! :)

Stranger Things Comics/Graphic Novels:

Stranger Things Six

Stranger Things Halloween Special

Stranger Things The Other Side

Stranger Things Zombie Boys

Stranger Things The Bully

Stranger Things Winter Special

Stranger Things Tomb of Ybwen

Stranger Things Into The Fire

Stranger Things Science Camp

Stranger Things “The Game Master” and “Erica’s Quest”

Stranger Things and Dungeons and Dragons

Stranger Things Kamchatka

Stranger Things Erica The Great

Stranger Things “Creature Feature” and “Summer Special”

Stranger Things Tie-In Books:

Stranger Things Suspicious Minds

Stranger Things Runaway Max (Part 1 of 3)

Stranger Things Runaway Max (Part 2 of 3)

Stranger Things Runaway Max (Part 3 of 3)

Stranger Things Darkness On The Edge Of Town (Part 1 of 3)

Stranger Things Darkness On The Edge Of Town (Part 2 of 3)

Stranger Things Darkness On The Edge Of Town (Part 3 of 3)

Stranger Things Rebel Robin Book and Podcast (Part 1 of 2)

Stranger Things Rebel Robin Book and Podcast (Part 2 of 2)

Stranger Things Hawkins Horrors Review

Stranger Things Flight Of Icarus

Stranger Things Episode Reviews:

The Vanishing of Will Byers (Part 1 of 2)

The Vanishing of Will Byers (Part 2 of 2)

Synopsis: Set between the events of seasons 3 and 4, the book follows Lucas during his freshman year of high school as he attempts to chart a different course for his life, taking up basketball as a means of trying new things and getting out of his comfort zone. However, Lucas soon realizes this won't be as easy as he initially thinks: His attempts to blend in with the popular crowd put him at odds with Mike and Dustin, his relationship with Max is deteriorating, and Lucas is forced to face hard truths about how insidiously racism is woven into Hawkins and what it means to be one of the few black kids in a mostly white town......

Observations:

Lucas on the Line acts as a conclusion to what I call "The Outcasts Trilogy," which began with Rebel Robin, followed by Flight of Icarus, and ending with this book. All these Tie-In novels center around three characters (Robin, Eddie, Lucas) who are considered outcasts in Hawkins: Robin is secretly a lesbian in a homophobic culture, Eddie is the town freak due to his interest in D&D, guitar, his low socioeconomic status, and his family's reputation because of his dad's criminal past, and Lucas is a black kid in a society where racism and prejudice are still prevalent. All 3 characters deal with feeling inadequate and unwanted, and attempt to cope with their situations by either blending into the crowd, or else attempting to escape Hawkins. All 3 of them eventually face hard truths and learn to stop denying the aspects of themselves that make them unique.

In Lucas's case, now that he's older and in high school, not only is he beginning to realize the implications of what it means to be black in a neighborhood where racism still lurks, but he's also beginning to understand his family's history, as well as coming to terms with an uncomfortable truth: As much as his friends care about him, they will never truly understand the bigotry and micro-aggressions Lucas is forced to endure as a person of color.

The show has touched on themes of bigotry and racism before, both in Lucas's interracial relationship with Max (which makes him a target for Billy) and the type of bullying he experienced from Troy and James. However, this book expands on those themes by going more into Lucas's fears and insecurities at being discriminated against for being a nerd AND being black, as well as finding someone who understands what he's going through. It also, IMO, deconstructs the "token minority" trope by showing what it's like to be considered that in a group of white friends from the perspective of said minority character, and how dehumanizing it feels.

This book left a lot to ponder. It's not perfect, and there are some flaws in its structure (mostly relating to continuity errors and missed opportunities), but it does inspire discussion, and gives a solid point-of-view to Lucas's character.

Part 1: Lucas's Journey

For as much as this fandom talks about Steve's character development (not that the discussion is unwarranted), Lucas is also another character (next to his sister Erica) who's had subtle but notable growth over the course of the show.

Season 1 had Lucas start out as a loyal member of the Party who was invested in finding Will, but also at odds with Mike and Dustin over El due to his distrust of her (something which got him a lot of flak from fans at the time). All of this came to a head in the junkyard when Lucas realized El was deliberately misleading them so they wouldn't find the Gate, leading to an ugly fight within the group. However, once things settled down, and Lucas realized El's misdirection was her attempting to keep them safe and not an act of maliciousness, he apologized for how he acted (with El also apologizing for lying) and welcomed her into the group, formally accepting her as a friend and member of the Party. Notably, in spite of his misgivings, he never betrayed El to the authorities, demonstrating that his heart was in the right place.

Season 2 continued on with this development. Contrast Lucas's acceptance of Max into the Party and his willingness to reach out to her vs how he initially acted with El in S1. It's notable since, at the time, Mike was hostile towards the idea of Max becoming part of the group. While Lucas had a crush on Max (which is normal for a boy his age), what separated him from the others was his willingness to listen to Max, who had always felt unheard in her house. That conversation on the bus rooftop in S2, where she opens up to Lucas about her home life and how she fears she's becoming like Billy, was meaningful to both of them, not just in Lucas reassuring Max she was a good person, but also Lucas really seeing Max for who she was and loving her for it. And in spite of the threat Billy posed, Lucas refused to be scared off by him (even kneeing Billy in the groin when he pinned him to the wall), and that willingness for Lucas to fight for Max was one of the many reasons Max finally stood up to Billy and made it clear to him that she was done with his abuse.

Season 3 showed Lucas was still navigating his relationship with Max (after getting dumped 5 times), as well as doing his best to advise Mike about his relationship with El. He also got some cool moments, from saving El from the Meat Flayer by chopping off its tendril, to gathering the fireworks to use against the Meat Flayer at the Battle of Starcourt. In spite of this, I remember at the time some fans (including me) wished Lucas had a bigger role in the story. The Duffer Brothers must have heard those criticisms because Lucas ended up getting his own arc in the next season.

There were a lot of great moments in season 4, but Lucas's story was a favorite for me because of how relatable it was. He was in high school trying for a fresh start. He still participated in D&D (Hellfire Club) but also joining basketball because he wanted to break out from being the nerd who was picked on all the time, and because he enjoyed the sport and wanted to give it a shot. He was discovering his identity, which is a big part of the high school experience. Adding onto this, a part of him wanted to achieve popularity as a way of being recognized instead of constantly looked down upon. He got what he wanted when he won the basketball championship............and then experienced firsthand the darker side of popularity, which forced Lucas to ask himself if this is what he really wanted.

Lucas on the Line expands more on the S4 arc by showing the events that led to Lucas doing basketball, and how that put him at odds with Mike and Dustin for a while. We also get to see the circumstances behind his breakup with Max, as well as her spiral into depression following Billy's death.

Something I appreciate is the book doesn't shy away from the trauma and PTSD Lucas is dealing with. The show usually gives that focus to characters like El, Max, Will, Joyce, Hopper, and Nancy, so it's refreshing to see how Lucas has processed everything since Will's disappearance in 1983. The answer is not well. It's even gotten worse since the Battle of Starcourt:

Similar to the way Robin in her novel talks about Hawkins High as a metaphorical monster, there are multiple instances where Lucas makes comparisons between his living situation in Hawkins and the Upside Down:

Granted, this is a metaphor that anyone who's watched the show enough times can pick up on: For as much as Hawkins presents itself as an idyllic neighborhood, there is rot within it, and NOT just from the Upside Down. The town has deeply rooted bigotry entrenched in its structure that takes on many forms (racism, homophobia, bullying, fear-mongering, forced conformity, etc) which the characters are forced to endure on a daily basis. From a symbolic standpoint, the Upside Down is all the nastiness within Hawkins that's covered up with a pretty surface. It may be a town that presents itself as perfect, but the moment you actually take a closer look at your surroundings, you realize that "perfectness" isn't genuine, and that people who present themselves as friendly can reveal just how awful they are in the right circumstances.

I live in a neighborhood like this, and I've been forced to learn time and again that some people in my town (though not all of them) have deeply rooted prejudices and will normalize being cruel because they can get away with it, all the while justifying their behavior as normal. Becoming cynical and cautious is how I've survived it. It reminds me of how Max thinks about her abusive situation with Billy: If you keep the monsters close to you, you're never caught by surprise.

Getting back to Lucas, he's painfully aware of this. Part of his PTSD and trauma isn't just from encountering the horrors of the Upside Down, but also from all the years he was bullied in school:

Lucas explains this to Mike and Dustin on the show, but part of his reasons for joining the basketball team is because he thinks it'll get him in with the popular crowd, and people will stop harassing him. What he doesn't understand (and what Mike and Dustin pick up on pretty quickly) is that even if Lucas changed everything about himself to fit in, he will always be walking on eggshells with that group. If he does everything right, he'll be tenuously accepted, but if he gets one thing wrong, or makes the team look bad in any way (even unintentionally), they will rip him to shreds. I even question what would've happened if Lucas failed to make the winning shot at the championship game: Would the team and the crowd have been as accepting of Lucas for that, or would he have been ostracized on the spot?

I know there are people in this fandom who vilify Mike and Dustin for going to Hellfire Club over Lucas's basketball games. As time has passed, I maintain they made the right call. Not only were they bullied by the basketball jocks way before they joined Hellfire Club (with Jason doing nothing to stop it), but they could see Lucas was deluding himself, and that these were not the kind of people they wanted to be friends with. At least with Eddie, they were accepted for who they were without having to make major changes to their identities to fit in. Even with Lucas, Eddie still welcomed him into the Hellfire Club despite his initial reluctance and the fact Lucas was on the basketball team. He didn't care that Lucas was black (which was a problem for several white basketball jocks like Lee Garroway) or that Lucas had extracurricular activities outside of Hellfire. He just cared that Lucas wanted to be there and was willing to invest in their D&D Campaign.

(SIDE NOTE: This is a big reason I roll my eyes hard at Billy stans who whine about Eddie being a similar replacement for Billy. The major differences between Eddie and Billy is a.) Eddie wasn't a bully, b.) Eddie didn't care about becoming Kings of Hawkins High like Billy did, and c.) Eddie could afford to be in the same room with Lucas for more than 30 seconds without being racist towards him or wanting to attack him. Enough said.)

And it should be noted that while Mike and Dustin are skeptical about Lucas doing basketball, they eventually accept it and even show up to one of his basketball practices (along with Erica) where Lucas does his best and still gets shit from his teammates for how he played.

Both Mike and Dustin saw how Lucas was being treated, as well as the fact Lucas was benched up until the championship, and they rightfully concluded that even if Lucas became popular, a.) It wouldn't change how THEY were being treated (no matter what Lucas told them), and b.) Lucas would forever be trying to live up to expectations from others until he became a shell of his former self. It's a lot like what Chrissy Cunningham went through where she maintained the perfect popular image as the Queen Bee of Hawkins High at the cost of her mental health and well being.

To Lucas's credit, he eventually realizes this at the end. As angry as he was at Dustin and Mike for skipping the Championship, he came to understand why they made that decision. When the time came between choosing Jason and the basketball team vs his friends, he chose his friends:

Caleb McLaughlin even noted this in an interview post S4: Lucas wanted to find acceptance, but the problem is you can't force other people to accept you. Mike and Dustin, in spite of their flaws, accepted Lucas for who he was. Jason and the other basketball players (with the exception of Jay) only accepted Lucas when he either made the team look good, or when they wanted something from him.

This doesn't necessarily mean the book (or even the show) paints Lucas wanting to do basketball as a wrong thing. It was a choice like everything else. Lucas's reasons for wanting to do basketball went beyond just wanting to be popular: He wanted to try something new. He wanted something he was passionate about. Not only did he find that, but he also got to share it with another teammate who understood him: Jermaine "Jay" Demario.

Part 2: Lucas's Relationships with other characters

Jay is a new character from the book who's not only one of the few black kids in Hawkins, but also one of the only basketball players who treats Lucas decently and takes him under his wing. He's the one who encourages Lucas to step out of his comfort zone and try out basketball. He's also one of the few jocks (though he doesn't consider himself a jock in the traditional sense) who's a decent person, and Lucas looks up to him as a mentor the same way Dustin does with Steve. Jay gives Lucas useful advice about balancing his extracurricular activities with other aspects of his life, and he's the one who trains Lucas to do well at basketball, from practicing after school with him, to having Lucas check out videos of NBA playoffs and finals to improve his skills. He also accepts Lucas wanting to do Hellfire Club, and tells him there's nothing wrong with being both a jock and a nerd.

Speaking as someone who made Varsity for cross-country and track & field AND took AP classes during high school, I can relate to that last bit! 🙂

Jay was a cool character, and I'm sad he wasn't in the show. It's nice Lucas was able to have a friend, however briefly, whom he could confide in, and who understood the issues Lucas dealt with because of who he was and where he lived (more on that in a minute).

Erica's relationship with Lucas also gets a bit more time here. She's still snarky towards Lucas, but there are moments demonstrating she cares for him. For instance, despite initially criticizing how Lucas played during a practice, she is pissed when Lee and some other basketball players call Lucas a racist slur:

Later on, after Lucas becomes the target of a bomb threat, there's a quiet scene where Erica comes in to hang out with Lucas. Even though she doesn't verbally say it, it's clear from her demeanor she's genuinely worried for Lucas's safety:

She may exchange barbs with him, but she knows where to draw the line. The fact she also showed up for all of Lucas's basketball games on her own accord (minus the championship) despite Lucas being benched conveys she supports her brother in her own way. I liked the evolution of Lucas and Erica's relationship in S4, and I'm hoping that continues into S5. If the final scenes of S4 are any indication of foreshadowing, they'll likely be working together, so we'll probably get to see more of their sibling dynamic.

Max's relationship with Lucas also gets focus. For the most part, they are not in a good place. Ever since Billy's death at Starcourt Mall, Max has fallen into a deep depression and become withdrawn from everyone, including Lucas. A good chunk of the story is Lucas trying to reach out to Max and make it clear to Max that he's there for her. The problem is he doesn't know how since Max keeps rejecting any attempts to hang out with him, or for him to help her. The dynamic is sadly realistic for anyone who's had friends or family who suffer from chronic depression and feel frustrated or helpless when they try to help that person recover. Lucas does everything he can for Max in the book, from giving her the space she needs, to offering to listen to her. We also get to see Lucas's perspective on why he cares so much for Max (just like Max's novel showed us why she was attracted to Lucas):

What's sad is Max does understand what Lucas is trying to do. She knows he cares about her. At the same time though, she can't pretend things are normal anymore, or that she doesn't feel immense guilt over how she wished something horrible would happen to Billy and got her wish granted (as she admits to Vecna in the S4 finale), or that her life hasn't changed for the worse:

BTW, the breakup between Max and Lucas that's alluded to in S4 happens in the book. It's during Thanksgiving when Lucas sneaks out of his house to give Max some Thanksgiving dinner while she's at the skating park. It's also the first time Lucas hears Max play "Running Up That Hill" by Kate Bush and truly understands the meaning of that song........and what it means for their relationship:

What's admirable about Lucas is that, in spite of what's going on with Max and her attempts to distance herself from him, he still keeps fighting for her any way he can, right up to the end of the book when Vecna tries to kill Max the first time in the graveyard. And it pays off. Those memories she has of her time with Lucas, combined with the moments she shared with her friends, allow her to break free from Vecna, to remember she has something to live for, that she has people who care about her, and that she doesn't have to be consumed by guilt over what happened to Billy.

Speaking of Billy, the few times Lucas brings him up, he does NOT talk about Billy in a positive light. If there was any doubt about whether Lucas hated Billy, this book puts that to rest. One passage in particular stuck out:

I know Lucas is projecting his anger towards Billy in this moment (not that I blame him), but the idea that Vecna/The Mind Flayer was drawn to Billy because of the darkness in his heart is an interesting idea. We know Vecna initially spared El at Hawkins Lab while killing the other kids because he saw a lot of himself in El (both with her struggles developing her powers, and her treatment under Brenner and her "brothers/sisters") and believed El would be grateful to him for "saving her." It's also implied on the show (and by Vecna's actor, Jamie Campbell Bower) that Vecna feels the same way about Will, which is why he has a creepy interest in him. Billy in many ways resembles Vecna in his rage and sadistic desire to hurt everything and everyone around him, and that aspect may have attracted Vecna to Billy. Granted, it's hard to know if that's the case since Billy was initially driving that night to hook up with Karen before crashing by the warehouse where that piece of the Mind Flayer was nesting, but it's also possible Vecna could have sensed Billy before then, and thought he'd make a great candidate to put his plan into motion.

Then there's Lucas's relationship with Jason: Lucas picks up pretty quickly that something's off about Jason, particularly when he's preparing for the prep-rally speech by slamming his hands in the lockers hard enough to leave dents. Lucas also isn't impressed with Jason's speech, and rightfully notes that Jason invokes the Starcourt tragedy for "cheap audience reactions" (which is why Max looks hurt in the scene when Jason brings up Billy). There's also a scene after Jason's confrontation with Eddie in the cafeteria where he and Andy make disparaging remarks about people who live in trailer parks. When Lucas speaks out against that (because Max was forced to move into a trailer park after Neil left Susan), Jason loses his shit:

By the time of Chrissy's death when Jason's organized the basketball team into hunting down Eddie and tortures Gareth for information, Lucas finally understands just how unhinged Jason is, and even compares Jason to Billy:

I know some people defend Jason on the grounds that Chrissy's death impacted him in a negative way, and that Patrick's later death made things worse because it happened under circumstances that couldn't be explained, which is why Jason jumped on the "Hellfire Club is a Satanic cult" bandwagon. While there is some truth to this, it ignores how Jason already had negative qualities brewing underneath, and that Chrissy's death didn't create these issues, but instead brought them to the surface in the worst way possible. Jason already had inherent prejudices against D&D and anyone he deemed as a "freak" (as depicted in the Flight of Icarus book) and the show established that he had a very self-absorbed, hot-headed, entitled attitude even before things got bad. Maybe he was initially able to keep these negative qualities under control, but they didn't magically manifest out of thin air just because Chrissy died.

Regardless of whether we chose to admit it, we all have a dark side. We all have aspects of our personality we're not proud of. Jason is no different in that regard. The problem is the lack of self-awareness on his part about those flaws, combined with his self-righteous belief that he was doing the right thing even though his actions put innocent people in danger.

I could sympathize with Jason over the deaths of Chrissy and Patrick, but my sympathy ended when he organized a Witch Hunt against the Hellfire Club (who had NOTHING to do with Chrissy and Patrick's deaths) and not-so-subtly threatened Nancy at the gun store and made it clear he intended to go after Mike. At that point, I was done with him. Judging by the final conversation between Lucas and Jason, where Jason refuses to hear Lucas's explanations about what's going on because it doesn't fit with his preconceived notions, Lucas was done with him as well:

Jason: "I never should have let you in the door."

Lucas (coldly): "And I never should have knocked. I thought I wanted to be like you. Popular. Normal. But it turns out normal's just a raging psychopath."

Truer words have never been spoken.

Part 3: Lucas's Experiences with Racism and Bigotry

Lucas has been made the target of racism by characters like Troy, James, and Billy on the show, but this book is where Lucas begins to understand the full ramifications of what it means to be black in a world where racism is ingrained into society. We also get to see how it psychologically impacts Lucas and feeds into his worst insecurities.

Take Lucas's introduction to the basketball team for instance: For the most part, his tryout is average (not awful, but not spectacular), but Jason still allows him on the team for one particular reason:

There's always been a question in the fandom about whether Jason was racist in the same way Billy was. I know Caleb doesn't think so, and argued Billy was worse (and given the the amount of mental gymnastics certain fans have done to pretend Billy wasn't racist, as well as Caleb's experiences with racism in the fandom, I get where his position is coming from), but this book suggests otherwise. Jason may not have been as overtly racist as Billy was, but there is a soft bigotry at play here in Jason allowing Lucas on the team BECAUSE he was black as opposed to Lucas's actual skills. Some people will probably argue against Jason being racist because of his friendship with Patrick, but that's basically the "I can't be racist because I have a black friend" argument.

What's depressing is this haunts Lucas for the remainder of the book. In spite of how hard he practices to get better, he can't shake off the idea that he was only let on the team because of his skin color (and because of the stereotypical idea that all black people do basketball), and not because he earned it. This is reinforced by other members of the basketball team, led by Lee Garroway, who not-so-subtly takes every opportunity to remind Lucas of this:

Speaking of which, this book introduces another bully in the form of Lee Garroway, and he's a loathsome piece of work. Like Billy, he is outwardly racist towards Lucas, but he takes it a step further in targeting both Lucas and Jay because he, along with several other members of the team, are pissed that they made it to the subs roster (thinking Lucas and Jay only got that position because they're both black) and could potentially make Varsity, which is a position they all want. This all culminates in Lee rigging both Jay and Lucas's lockers to spray them with glitter, and then later rigs Lucas's locker again with a bomb that almost kills a janitor working at the school. Lucas manages to catch Lee in the act by planting a camera in his locker after the first attack, and even though the footage gets Lee's friends expelled, Lee is still let off the hook because his father is a donor to the school and bribes Mr. Higgins into covering it up. It's similar to what happened in Flight of Icarus when Eddie accuses Mr. Higgins of looking the other way when it came to athletic players like Tommy and Jason who bully other students and are allowed to get away with it because their fathers have the principal in their pockets.

Remember that profoundly stupid comment from the Angela apologist I talked about in my review of Darkness on the Edge of Town?

This is why that comment struck a nerve: Putting aside how this take is completely devoid of critical thought, it misses the fact that the reason bullies like Angela, Jason, Tommy, and Lee feel justified in their behavior is BECAUSE most of the adults enable them. At best, they do the bare minimum in disciplining these teens, and at worst, they look the other way and punish people like El and Eddie who try to stand up for themselves and others.

And I'm sorry, but the "They are children, none of them are responsible for what they do" excuse can take a flying leap into a volcano for all I care. If you deliberately make a bomb that you know will put someone in the hospital (or even get them killed), you are responsible for your behavior. This isn't like Lee was incapable of understanding what he was doing was wrong. To imply otherwise is stupid beyond belief. 🙄

What's infuriating is not only does Lee barely get a slap on the wrist for what he did, but the bomb threat was enough to cause Jay and his family to move, meaning Lucas lost one of the few friends he could depend on.

On top of that, this isn't even unique to Jay's situation. Both of Lucas's parents also have history which involved moving around to find a place where they could, at the very least, be tolerated in their community. All the while, they knew on some level they'd never truly be accepted:

Lucas's parents did the best they could in trying to protect Lucas and Erica and raise them so they wouldn't have to go through the same circumstances they did. The problem though is that racism has become normalized to such an extent that there isn't a way to escape it.

On a related note, this is why I find the current attempts by Conservatives to stop Critical Race Theory from being taught in schools to be vile: These people want to pretend racism is a thing of the past, like it isn't still impacting people of color in the United States to this day, and are perfectly okay trying to whitewash history and limit any attempts at discussion to achieve that goal. It's been an ongoing issue where I live (to the point that last year, three new members were elected to the school district so they could push their agendas and prevent CRT and other "undesired talking points" in schools), and I know it's been an ongoing issue elsewhere in the United States (*cough* Florida *cough*). John Oliver did a brilliant breakdown of this last year, and I highly recommend watching it:

youtube

Just like with many of the other books in this series (Darkness on the Edge of Town, Rebel Robin, Flight of Icarus, etc) Lucas on the Line illustrates that many of the social issues these characters experienced in the 80s continue to be a problem today. Very little has changed, and while people might be more willing to hide their bigotry, or pretend it's something else, that doesn't mean it's gone.

Part 4: Missed Opportunities and Continuity Errors

Like I said before, this book isn't perfect, and has its flaws. I can't speak for what notes Suyi Davies, the author of the book, got from the Duffer Brothers and Netflix, but there were some major contradictions that were hard to ignore.

For instance, there's a flashback where Lucas is supposed to be in third grade and first experiences discrimination against him when the other kids are afraid of swimming with him because they think his "blackness" will rub off on them. While the flashback is effective in showing the insidiousness of how kids can be bigoted at a young age, it's undermined by the date this flashback is supposed to take place in: June 6, 1981. At this point, Lucas would have finished fourth grade, not third grade. On top of that, it's mentioned that Lucas wasn't friends with Mike, Will, and Dustin yet, but that's not only contradicted by other tie-in materials, but also by Dustin's claim on the show that he didn't join the Party until he was in 4th grade, which would have been around 1980. For Lucas to be in third grade in 1981 and not know any of his friends at this point makes no sense.

Then there's the third act of the book, which takes place within the first four episodes of S4: The show establishes the events in those episodes takes place between March 21st-24th, 1986. However, the book changes this so it takes place between April 4th-7th, 1986. The reasons for this are unclear, especially since this book came out AFTER S4 premiered, but I suspect it may have something to do with "Birtdaygate" (i.e. the Duffer Brothers forgetting Will's Birthday was supposed to be on March 22nd). I can't tell if Netflix was trying to retcon the dates because they were embarrassed by "Birthdaygate," or if S4 was originally supposed to be set in April before they changed it to March at the last minute (which begs the question of why they did that), but it is something that's been on my mind for a while now.

Moving past these errors, I was disappointed the book didn't expand more on Patrick's character despite having the opportunity to do so. In the show, Patrick demonstrates a friendlier side to Lucas during their time together, and I know it was speculated at the time that there was more to his interactions with Lucas. However the book doesn't explore that angle, and we don't get a lot of information about Patrick. It's frustrating because, out of all of Vecna's victims, Patrick is the only one that doesn't get his backstory fully fleshed out. We see why and how Chrissy, Fred, and Max were targeted, but it's only implied in Patrick's case. Lucas speculates Patrick had an abusive father, but neither the book nor the show elaborate on this, which makes Patrick come off as a wasted character, especially when his death could have had a bigger impact on Lucas.

Finally, this is just a minor nitpick, but I was unhappy that the book didn't seize on the opportunity of Lucas and Steve playing at least one game of basketball. There's a scene in the book when Steve offers to go one-on-one with Lucas, and Lucas turns him down:

For the story's sake, I get why they had Jay be the one to practice with Lucas as opposed to Steve, but it still feels like a missed opportunity, especially when it was implied on the show that Lucas and Steve's had a better relationship after S2 following Steve protecting them from the demodogs.

Final Thoughts:

Overall, I would recommend this book. It's interesting seeing things from Lucas's perspective, as well as how he views his relationship with others, and how he copes with his trauma. The book does a stellar job exploring how the racism inherent in Hawkins has impacted Lucas's life and well-being, and it's also a relatable journey of finding your identity and rising above the stereotypes people place around you and your community.

As for where Lucas goes from here, I'm wagering that he'll have a role in bringing Max back from the coma Vecna's placed her in, and that they'll finally get that date night at the theaters.

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formyloveoflove · 11 months

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Growing Pains [ATTOYE One-Shot]

SUMMARY: An accidental injury sends both Okoye and Attuma down memory lane

RATING: General

Part 1 of This Water Knows Our Names | Part 2 Here

AO3 LINK

His smile dropped as her knees buckled underneath her. She struggled to rise back to her feet, wincing at the pressure in her right ankle. The same ankle that he swiped with his calf and sent her plummeting to the relentless ground.

He was prepared to laugh. A playful taunt lingered patiently at the base of his throat. He was waiting for her to get up. Because she always does. No matter how hard the hit. No matter how fierce the pain.

Okoye never stays down.

Yet with her ankle already inflamed and bruising, she gritted her teeth. However, she could not silence the sly, “ouch” from slipping past her lips. And Attuma choked on his own tongue.

They had many private bouts. Some scheduled. Some after a cheap shot thrown in their joint training. Some not even fighting at all.

There was one where they sat on a dock. Okoye mindlessly dragged her toes through the surface of the water as Attuma floated closer and closer.

“Do you spend most of your leisure here?” his voice sent ripples through the water. “You look at home here. Near the water.”

“You are looking wrong then,” she scoffed. “I can never feel at home near water. And you are not subtle. You swim too close to me, shark.”

His wet tan skin paled slightly in embarrassment: his impish way of flirting thwarted. But he made no effort to widen the distance between them. Merely blamed it on the current pushing him along.

“Is it because of the swimming?” he leaned on the side of the dock, his elbow accidentally brushing against hers.

“No,” she smiled. “It is because I now know what lurks in the water.”

He joined her in laughter. A lightness that releases the tension in his chest. “You have nothing to fear, Warrior. Talokan and Wakanda are allies now. And we are friends.”

Okoye twisted her lips, considering their circumstances for a moment. She had been bloodthirsty, swearing that the next time she saw this cobalt giant she would tear his head from his shoulders. She would be bathed in his blood because she, too, understood vengeance.

He had come with his people. Took her princess, her queen, drowned her people in their own waters. He sought her out amongst the chaos. Amongst the destruction of her nation’s peace, he pointed his dastard finger at her, and she vowed to remove it from his screaming body.

Yet, here they are: Okoye trailing her toes below the surface mere inches away from the smiling brute shamelessly rubbing circles on her ankles. She never thought she would ever allow someone to touch her again. Let alone a former enemy of Wakanda, but they had their moments.

When Attuma arrived at their shores with a handful of those under his command, Okoye thought they were waging war. Yet, they began helping Golden City rebuild itself. Reluctant rain or scorching shine, they were there, using their strength to return what has been destroyed. In the following months, laughter was in two tongues and friendships in two cultures. Trust bubbled in the air, and talks of a treaty became more believable.

However, some wounds take a little longer to heal than most. And Okoye was known to pick at her scabs.

She was content with reconstructing her home by herself. Yes, it would take her longer, but it gave her something to mediate with. She needed not some grand purpose. Just something to do. She was free from the beck and call of the royal family with the surviving member on pilgrimage. She was released to travel as she pleased. The Midnight Angel suit was hers to use as she wished. But it laid in a box in storage, for she wished for a different life. To be Okoye the builder, to create instead of destroy. To heal instead of bruise.

Her hands ended many lives for which she is ashamed of. And seeing as they created Okoye the Dora, they can create something new for her as well.

Therefore, Attuma’s thundering footsteps were unwelcomed in her partially isolated corner of the river. Despite, he came every day. As he waltzed toward her with a kiddish grin, she returned him a grimace and silence. Whenever he reached for something, she would snatch it out of his hand, barking orders in her native tongue, and pointing away from her.

Every hammer, every bolt, every piece of wood - she wrestled it out of his hands. Sometimes, they got a little out-of-hand. On a fateful night, during the wet season, when the storm forced Okoye to take shelter, she heard the constant knocking of a hammer working. Not even bothering with her shoes, she rushed to the doors, knowing that the mighty general’s form would greet her.

As she forcefully tossed the door on the hinges, she stopped. Her breath caught in her throat. There he stood. His normal blue skin faded under the steady stream of rain. His dark hair coated his neck and shoulders. Water drenched his brown skin. He was gorgeous in his true form without his traditional garb. He was beauty unmatched, undiscovered. Hidden under the curtain of rain, like a secret, that was just for her.

He spared her a glance. Unsmiling as he dared her to stop him. They were frozen. Sizing each other, a quiet moment before she charged at him, and he planted his feet deeper in the mud. He was steady, but she was fast. And he was plummeting to Earth with the most delicious weight pressed against his body.

She mounted him, pressing his wrists to the ground. He was pinned underneath her, and the sorrow on her face was unbearable. She strained her teeth in an attempt to force her tears away. But they dripped. They raced down her cheeks until they mixed with the rain. She was in pain. An ache that threatened to burst from her bones.

Without warning, she released a deathly scream. It sounded of exhaustion, anguish, and all the other extremes of a warrior beyond her years. And Attuma stayed there. Because he understood. He was at her mercy. If she needed to scream at him, he would allow it. If she needed to draw his blood, he’d take it with a smile.

Under the harsh drops of rain, he stared up at her as she wailed in anguish. Stumbling over words he did not know, she struggled to breathe. He rubbed calming circles on her wrist. And was met with a rough punch that cut his lip on impact.

She froze. The talks of a great treaty now halted by her hands. The hands that she swore would create her a new life will destroy her country. Her punch fueled my anger and pain and invited war for her people. A war that she doubted she would be permitted to participate in.

“In akaljantik,” her body shaked. “I’m sorry.”

And Attuma’s heart stopped. He freed himself from her grasping, and snatched her back before she could protest. She was underneath him this time. His robust body shielded her from the rain, and he knew it would not be the last time that he wanted to protect her.

In her wide, frightened eyes, he saw myself. Reflected in all her shame and fear, like they had become one.

“Okoye, I cannot apologize enough for the pain we have caused Wakanda. And for the pain, I have caused you. I will be at your mercy. I will beg for your forgiveness until the end of my days. I cannot right all the wrongs against you. Let me fix the ones I can.”

She did.

That fateful day led to her struggling to lift herself from the ground. Much like the night that they met, she grimaced in pain. Her glare pierced when he made a move towards her.

“I do not need your help,” she gritted.

“You are hurt,” his voice low and stern. She was being irrational. They both knew that, but he couldn’t allow her pride to lead to any more damage to her. “I will help.”

“I do not want it. We are in the middle of a bout. My enemy would not help me.”

His heart sank. “I am not your enemy.”

Her foot swelled with a nasty purple color. She couldn’t look at it, and Attuma couldn’t look away from it. If it was anyone else, he would relish this blow. He - still formidable - was as swift as he was clever. Both the brains and the brawn: nothing could stop him. But her. It could only ever be her.

“Attuma,” she warned. He had inched closer to her. His fingertips brushed over her throbbing bruise, and she winced. “You are lurking too close to me, shark. Back up.”

She tried to sound as firm as she could, but she failed. He was leaving a trail of goosebumps as he glided up her skin. He gently held her knee in place, careful not to disturb her injury. His stare sucked the air out of her lungs. Suffocatingly serious, he leaned into her with a trained eye. His lashes fluttered with every blink, and she was stunned. He truly was beautiful.

With a hand on his chest, she stopped him. “Attuma?” she breathed.

His eyes drifted close. “I am going to pick you up.” She scoffed. “And you’re going to let me. We’re going to see your healers, and you will rest.”

She rested her hand on his as she inhaled. Breathing in him, addicting and titillating, she didn’t know what was happening. The wind quieted, and the birds got quieter. The Earth kept spinning, but she and him and every atom in their bodies remained still. Remained glued to each other.

“Too close,” she whispered against his cheek.

“Impossible,” he replied dangerously close to the shell of her ear. “This isn’t even close enough for me, Okoye.”

Oh. was all she thought. His palm pressed deliciously into her backside as he lifted her off the ground. Sliding to cup her knees and neck, he focused solely on her face, watching for any signs of pain. But all he saw was her sweet mouth agape and her eyes begging. His knees buckled, and she wrapped herself around him like a vice.

And she stayed like this all the way to the infirmary. With her body pressed into his, they were both weightless and yearning for more. So bad that it hurts.

#attoye #attuma x okoye #okoye x attuma #wakanda forever #attuma #okoye #attuma of talokan #black panther #black panther wakanda forever #black panther: wakanda forever

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ladyluscinia · 9 months

Note

In an ideal world, DJenks could build on Lucius’s poly ideas in “we don’t own each other.” and Stede and Izzy’s (super limited) abilities to compromise with each other (via hostages) and they could both be with Ed and everyone in the love triangle is happy, but that seems super delusional at this point, even if it’d be so cool. So, what do you think a realistic happy ending for Izzy would look like?

I think I pulled up a link I wanted to include to answer this like a day or two after it was sent, and then I promptly got distracted and didn't actually type anything. Oops.

Anyway... happy endings.

So here's a post where I kinda speculated on this before that's worth reading. It brings up some tropes that I think are in the mix of possibilities and how I personally feel about them.

For an answer to your question... The way I kind of see the "compromise" situation coming out of S1 is that all the characters are falling on a sliding scale between two not-ideal extremes of piracy philosophy. One end has Izzy firmly planted as the extreme of Edward's default approach - iron fist, emotionally closed off, total focus on skill and discipline, ruling things through a balance of fear and awe that makes them really good at piracy but emotionally and interpersonally a disaster. The other end is probably Lucius as the extreme of Stede's approach - all focus on interpersonal relationships and emotional fulfillment, wanting to have fun and do no work, flaunting hierarchy, and generally failing piracy in favor of self expression.

(Note it's important that Edward and Stede can't truly hit their extremes - Edward is too seeking of attachment and frivolity even as he bristles at vulnerability, and Stede is too emotionally locked up like a clam to practice what he preaches and now has no money to fund a permanent enforced vacation. They don't really want what they perceive as their culture goal, which is good because both their goals kind of suck in different ways. The Kraken is doomed to collapse because it's further out than Izzy.)

The whole crew, Izzy included, needs to make their way toward the midpoint (which, given this is a romcom, is probably not a true middle but skewed a bit toward Stede and silly hijinks) in order to be successful AND emotionally fulfilled. And I think they can do it!

Like Stede's whole vacation boat and enforcing his own unskilled, atypical piracy in the early eps has already caused friction with his crew. They want to be badasses, face challenges, complete raids, etc. The fact they've grown to like him doesn't mean they've decided Stede's hobbies are better than theirs now, it just means they are more open to doing something silly with him and enjoying it than they were in 1x01. I don't think the show is going to end with "retirement" because I don't think any of the characters really want to retire (including bored-as-hell Edward). And if they are still being pirates - in fact, trying to be good pirates - then it's not unrealistic to think Izzy can chill out a bit via character development and get in on the fun.

This is a guy who met Stede and sliced his shirt up as a hello, and then did literally everything he did in 1x06. He's not an inherent buzzkill of a person lol. He's just stressed.

Izzy and Edward working out their shit is probably going to be a extended part of Edward's general character arc, but once they get through that I feel like Izzy's happy ending will be just moving from lurking on the stairs to being in the circle. Give the man a friend, a knife game, probably a boyfriend for the middle aged love parallels... and throw in a real, much scarier antagonist for S3 just to cement him on the Revenge side (*crossing fingers* please be Hornigold).

He'll do just fine.

#our flag means death #izzy hands ofmd #i'm basically thinking his arc is going to look like villain decay except he's not starting out as enough of a villain for it #like none of them are viewing him as a threat to start with so they don't have to shuffle him into the 'not a threat' category #as soon as he resolves his shit with edward though then his reasons for conflict with the rest of them kinda go away #and i think it's kinda ridiculous when people act like the crew is gonna have a major grudge against *izzy* for mostly edward's actions #ask #ladyluscinia

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the-unexplained-orb · 1 year

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The Haunting Lore of Yokai: Unraveling the Terrifying Myths and Legends of Japan’s Supernatural Beings

“How did Japan’s terrifying urban legends come about? What are the myths behind yokai ? ”

Japan is a country steeped in ancient myths and legends. For centuries, the Japanese have been captivated by Yokai a mysterious supernatural creatures that inhabit forests and mountains, lurk in shadows and cause mischief to unsuspecting humans. From kappa to mischievous fox-spirits, Yokai have long been the stuff of nightmares and campfire tales.

In some tales, the Yokai are benevolent spirits who help humans in times of need, while in others, the Yokai are said to be malicious and dangerous. Many believe that the Yokai are signposts of the spiritual realm, and their appearance can be seen as a warning or a sign of spiritual danger. The fear of Yokai is deeply rooted in Japanese culture, and the tales of their encounters are still told to this day. The stories of Yokai are a part of the culture and history of Japan, and they continue to be a source of fascination and terror. The mysterious nature of Yokai makes them all the more intriguing, and their place in Japanese folklore is one that is sure to remain for centuries to come.

Below are 5 such powerful and evil Japanese Yokai. No matter where, no matter the year you’re in, pray that you never encounter any of these frightening Yokai from Japanese folklore.

1. Gashadokuro

Gashadokuro is a yokai that is said to be a giant skeleton made up of the bones of people who died of starvation or in battle without a proper burial. It is believed that these vengeful spirits come together to form a single being that stands over 30 feet tall.

According to legend, Gashadokuro roams the streets at night and preys on lone travelers. It is said to sneak up on its victims and bite off their heads with its massive jaws, or it may crush them in its bony embrace. It is also said to emit a loud ringing sound, which can cause a victim’s eardrums to rupture. One of the most well-known stories about Gashadokuro involves a lone samurai who encounters the monster while traveling through the countryside. Despite his bravery and martial skill, the samurai is unable to defeat Gashadokuro, and he is eventually devoured by the yokai.

Gashadokuro is considered one of the scariest and most powerful yokai in Japanese folklore. Its size and strength, as well as its ability to move silently and attack unexpectedly, make it a formidable opponent. The fact that Gashadokuro is made up of the bones of many dead people adds to its creepy and unsettling nature.

2. Aka Manto

Aka Manto is a yokai that is said to haunt public restrooms, particularly in schools. It is often depicted as a man wearing a red cloak or cape, and a mask that covers its face, leaving only its eyes visible.

It is said that Aka Manto will appear to someone using a public restroom and ask them if they want a red or blue cloak. If the person chooses red, Aka Manto will attack them and cloak them in their own blood until they die. If the person chooses blue, Aka Manto will strangle them until their face turns blue and they die. In some versions of the legend, Aka Manto may also offer other colors, such as yellow or green, and each color represents a different gruesome fate. For example, choosing yellow may result in the person’s skin being torn off, while choosing green may lead to them being dragged into the toilet.

Aka Manto is said to prey on people in a place where they are typically vulnerable and alone. The fact that it wears a mask that hides its true identity also adds to its mystery and fear factor. The vivid and gruesome descriptions of the fates that await those who choose the wrong color make Aka Manto a particularly unsettling and memorable yokai.

3. Kappa

A Kappa is a water-dwelling yokai that is usually depicted as a humanoid with the shell of a turtle and the beak of a bird. They are known for their love of cucumbers, their mischievous nature, and their fondness for pulling pranks on people.

According to legend, Kappas can be both helpful and harmful to humans. They are said to be able to help farmers irrigate their fields by controlling water flow, but they can also drown people who swim in their territory or attempt to steal their prized cucumber offerings.

Kappas are known to scare off people in a variety of ways. They are said to drag unsuspecting victims into the water by luring them with promises of a game or a wrestling match. They are also known for attacking people by pulling them under the water and attempting to steal their souls through a dish-like depression on the top of their heads.

People have reported sightings of strange creatures in bodies of water, which they believe to be Kappas. There have also been reports of Kappa-like creatures attacking and drowning people in various regions of Japan. However, it is important to note that these sightings and reports are likely the result of folklore and urban legends, rather than actual encounters with Kappas.

4. Shuten Dōji

Shuten Dōji is a legendary demon or oni from Japanese folklore. It is said to have lived in the mountains near Kyoto during the Heian period (794–1185). Shuten Dōji is often depicted as a massive, horned creature with red skin, sharp teeth, and claws.

Shuten Dōji and his band of demons would raid villages, kidnap women, and drink their blood. They were said to be so powerful that they could easily overpower entire armies. It was also said to have a magical ability to transform himself into a handsome young man in order to seduce women and lure them to his lair.

One of the most famous stories associated with Shuten Dōji involves a young samurai named Minamoto no Raiko. Raiko and his four companions were tasked with defeating Shuten Dōji and his demons. They infiltrated Shuten Dōji’s lair disguised as monks and were offered sake by the demon. The sake was poisoned, but Raiko and his companions managed to resist its effects and killed Shuten Dōji and his minions.

Shuten Dōji is considered one of the scariest creatures in Japanese folklore because of its immense strength and bloodthirsty nature. The legend of Shuten Dōji and his band of demons has inspired numerous works of art and literature, and his legacy as a terrifying monster lives on in Japanese popular culture today.

5. Yuki Onna

Yuki Onna is a yokai or supernatural creature from Japanese folklore. The name “Yuki Onna” translates to “snow woman” in English, and she is often depicted as a beautiful woman dressed in white, with long black hair and pale skin.

According to legend, Yuki Onna appears on snowy nights in remote areas, and she has been known to help or harm travelers who cross her path. One of the most well-known and terrifying incidents associated with Yuki Onna involves a young man named Minokichi.

Minokichi was traveling with his friend during a heavy snowstorm when they sought shelter in a deserted cabin. During the night, Minokichi woke up to find a beautiful woman standing over him. The woman was Yuki Onna, and she had come to kill him for having seen her. However, when she looked into his eyes, she was struck by his youth and innocence and decided to spare his life on the condition that he never tell anyone about the incident.

Years later, Minokichi had married and had children. One night, while telling ghost stories, he recounted the incident with Yuki Onna. Suddenly, a cold gust of wind blew open the door, and Yuki Onna appeared before him once again. She reproached him for breaking his promise and was about to kill him when she noticed the children sleeping next to him. Moved by their innocence, she spared his life once again and disappeared into the night.

The story of Yuki Onna is considered one of the most frightening in Japanese folklore because of her eerie beauty, her supernatural abilities, and the fact that she can appear in the middle of a snowstorm without warning. Her legend has inspired numerous works of art and literature, and she remains a popular figure in Japanese popular culture today.

Are these still myths or just a mere tales passed down the generation ? It maybe it may not be but it has now become an important part of the Japanese culture and has been an enduring part of the Japanese cultural heritage and will likely continue to be passed down from generation to generation.

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attorneys-against-court-violence · 9 months

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The Tenmas: Simon and Athena Lite

The Monstrous Turnabout is... an episode. It's... certainly one of the Ace Attorney cases of all time... and it has a murder...

Alright alright. I'll pack it in. There's a lot I like about Monstrous; Athena and Apollo's blossoming dynamic, Simon and Bobby's introductions... though those aren't specific to the case at hand - those things could have happened in any case.

There is ONE thing I enjoy about it that I don't see getting much attention in the Dual Destinies fanspace; the Tenmas. As implied in the title, there's a LOT of parallels with these two. But let's introduce them with a quick character analysis first! Spoilers incoming (but hopefully you already knew that!)

Jinxie Tenma

Jinxie Tenma, the first of them we meet, is a woefully troubled lass. A combination of schizophrenia and the yokai-obsessed culture she was born into leaves her shaking with fear most of the time, constantly wary that a monster is lurking nearby to do harm. She carries charms with her wherever she goes, even wearing one on her head, and reflexively slaps one on people who manage to scare her (not a hard thing to do honestly). She's constantly vigilant and her psychosis doesn't lend itself to being easily understood by others. When she's gripped by intense fear, her schizophrenia worsens to the point where she sees yokai inhabiting an entire room, obscuring the moment she found the Alderman dead and her "father" close to unconsciousness.

It's said she lost her mother at a very young age, finding courage in the golden flowers that symbolise her. We'll come back to this, don't worry.

She also has a habit of sleep-walking far from the mansion, rationalising that she had been possessed by a yokai - namely Tenma Taro. Both she and her father have seals on their heads to prevent such a thing from happening - Damian getting the entire top of his head covered in warding seals to prevent Tenma Taro from escaping. We'll come back to this too.

Damian Tenma

A stone-faced man with an intimidating build to match, but a heart of gold to contrast it. He's annoyed by how the former belies the latter but apologises profusely for causing distress. He's also extremely protective of his daughter - especially after his wife passed away. How kind and protective? Well... threatening to break out of the Detention Centre to offer Apollo tea and later to go check up on Jinxie should give you a good idea!

He's adamantly against the merger with Nine-Tails Vale and is quite unpopular in the region. Despite this, his wife was born and raised in the Vale and Jinxie had decided to move there to be more independant and get closer to her mother's origins. Damian doesn't seem to have any objections to this, preferring that her daughter pursues what makes her happy than be overbearing. The pressure-point that pushed him toward the merger was a threat against his daughter's well-being - an anonymous threat from L'belle in his efforts to obtain "Tenma Taro" (a giant gold nugget) from the Vale to pay off his debts. Still wanting to fight the merger without drawing attention, he did so under the guise of the Amazing Nine-Tails who fought against Tenma Taro (ie Nine-Tails Vale would fight against Tenma Town, never to join forces). Notice also that the first time we see him in this guise, he's protecting his daughter from the curse of Tenma Taro. Knowingly or not, he's protecting his daughter from becoming a casualty of the greed Tenma Taro inspires in people such as L'belle.

Up to now, he's shown himself to be a kind man and a loving father. A smart one as well, finding a way to fight against the merger and rally Nine-Tails Vale behind his cause without giving his identity away and resulting in the blackmailer making good on their promises. When his daughter's on the line, he's willing to play both sides to make sure she isn't in harm's way. And when his trial threatens to put her in the line of fire...

Tenma Taro

Alright, this is less of a character and more a persona. "Tenma Taro" himself isn't interesting - an entertaining sequence but not that deep. It's the act of Tenma - no, not this one - NO, not the rock, pay attention - DAMIAN! Damian Tenma! Him taking on this comically villainous persona that re-enforces what we already know about him. For one, it's to protect his daughter. She's far and away the most important part of his life - more-so than his political standing - yet despite not being guilty, he plays the villain to help her testimony hold water, even if it implicates him all the more. For two, he's very good at playing up a character to make his ends meet. The Amazing Nine-Tails is a chilvalrous hero valliantly protecting Nine-Tails Vale from Tenma Taro, swaying the public towards his wishes of going against the merger. It's hammy, sure, but the people seem to buy into it!

Hmm... I wonder if that's a dig at how easily people took to Fulbright's ridiculously heroic visage... hmm.

For three, it's him turning a part of himself he disdains to his advantage. He knows he's an off-putting guy and it bothers him quite a bit, but he's willing to lean into that in order to protect what's important to him. It's resourceful and a showing of how much he loves Jinxie that he's willing to do this. He's even willing to play on his daughter's belief that they are at risk of being possessed by Tenma Taro - an evil that threatens to harm both of them through L'belle's schemes and the one she believes to have killed the Alderman. Nevertheless, he takes the burden of being the villain to protect her.

Now I was going to talk about how Taro could be an alternate personality here... when being asked questions about what Damian saw, Taro draws upon what Damian knows as if he were another person. When he comes-to in the detention centre, he questions why Apollo and Athena are talking to him like he's some evil overlord. I figured "oh, maybe this Tenma Taro is just a yokai-fied explaination for his system of personalities". Buuuuuuut... the ending of DD makes it clear that it is, in fact, a persona, him lamenting that he can't fight himself when people requested "Tenma Taro" face of against the Amazing Nine-Tails.

Referring to both Nine-Tails and Tenma Taro as "himself" is decent enough evidence that this isn't a system of multiple people like Uendo, though feel free to pitch in if I made a mistake here. Chances are I have!

Overall, the Tenmas are a fun pair of characters and their story highlights a lot about them. The tragic daughter of a long-lost mother - trying her best to live a normal life in spite of her condition - threatened by the plans of a supposed aide to steal the rock that would solve all of his problems. Despite his misgivings, a stoic and intimidating guardian takes advantage of his most belothed traits in order to protect this girl he holds so near and dear, respecting her independance despite it going against his stance on where she intends to go.

Hey wait a minute-

The Parallels

Athena and Simon's plight is the beating heart of Dual Destinies. There is no debate. EVERY case in the game has some significant (and even minor) element that ties back to their conflicts. In the Tenma's case, it's almost play-for-play a spin on the very incident that started this mess.

Simon and Damian - responsible to varying degrees for the saftey of a young girl - are forced to take the fall for a crime committed by an unknown force most only know as a supernatural entity. For their respective reasons, this mysterious assailant wanted to steal away a priceless rock from the person they had killed (both very important people in their own right, clad in white and yellow). Said unknown party posed as someone important to this girl in order to get away with their crimes; L'belle disguising as Damian under the Amazing Nine-Tails mask & the phantom disguising as Metis using a Noh mask. These items also have supernatural connotations, with the Nine-Tailed Fox being a key figure in the myth of Tenma Taro and the Noh mask being said to be able to turn the wearer into. Wait for it. A phantom! When push came to shove and the girl was at risk of being indicted for the crime, Simon/Damian leaned into the false acussations, using their naturally intimidating qualities to their advantage in order to either buy enough time for the mystery to be solved or simply to take the fall in her stead.

Finally, the ones responsible for these crimes were thought to be valuable aides to both men; L'belle being the literal aide to Damian and "Bobby Fulbright" being the detective responsible for handling Simon during his conviction.

The Tenmas in this case serve to highlight the undying love and loyalty underpinning Simon Blackquill's actions. Damian is a scary guy but is aggressively polite and puts a great deal of effort in ensuring the safety of his daughter Jinxie. Simon has built quite a frightening reputation himself, but everything he does - from taking the fall for UR-1, to gunning after Starbuck so hard in 5-4, to stepping in and recounting his false confession in 5-5 - is all done to protect the most valuable and beloved treasure of his mentor, and someone he undeniably cares for himself. While prison has changed him quite a bit, he's retained a keen awareness of other's needs and breaks character on occassion to reveal his softer side. In this case, accepting Jinxie's warding charm shortly after threatening to behead her father, likely realising this is a genuinely mixed-up but still kind girl that he's needlessly frightened.

It's also worth noting that despite Damian's seeming dislike of Nine-Tails Vale based on the merger, and Simon's disdain for defense attorneys, both respect Jinxie and Athena's pursuits in a place they're not too fond of respectively. Speaking of, Athena's first reaction upon hearing about her client Damian? Tears. Literal tears. Probably not just for how much he cares for Jinxie - she probably caught the similarities to Simon and was reminded of his dorky kindness. Granted it doesn't take much to make Athena cry but I'd say that's a good enough reason to.

I'm quite fond of the Tenmas myself, though part of me does have to admit it's because they're shadowing a much more important and stirring dynamic. I liken their story to Sasha and Orla's in 5-DLC, oddly enough - one focusing on Simon's side and the other on Athena's. How both of them risk being run to ruins but being completely geniune in their desire to see the other free. Man, now I have to talk about Reclaimed at some point!

Did I mention that Jinxie and Athena are at least some flavour of neurodivergent? At least, that's what's implied on Athena's end. Jinxie's unambiguously schizophrenic. Maaaaaan, I gotta talk about Athena's divergent little brain too... been holding off on that re-write for too long, maaaaaaaaan!

BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY! Just the same as Jinxie found courage in her mother's golden flowers, Athena found a posthumous connection to her mother through studying analytical psychology. It's through that she's able to find the ability to actually help the situation with Simon. Both found themselves enabled to help resolve the situation through their connections to their mothers. And like how people would think Jinxie was possessed by Tenma Taro - both during the trial and during her sleepwalks - Athena would similarly be accused of being the monster that caused UR-1 in the first place. Damian and Simon would protect both from this by shouldering the burden of being the monsters for them - Damian the evil crow man, Simon the phantasmagorical killer.

So yeah, the Tenmas are alright. Now if you'll excuse me! I need to figure out who the Phineas Filch is in UR-1...

#dual destinies analysis #dual destinies spoilers #ace attorney spoilers #aa5 spoilers #damian tenma #jinxie tenma #tenma taro #florent l'belle #simon blackquill #athena cykes #bobby fulbright #the phantom ace attorney

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thiswasinevitableid · 1 year

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Deep Down (Indruck)

The winner of the "mer society" prompt poll was: Cultural differences between surface mers and deep-ocean mers. Duck is based on a Senator Wrasse and Indrid is based on a Gulper Eel). This fic is NSFW and contains mentions of ovipostion, but none actually occurs.

How can anyone live down here?

Duck disembarks the VertoSphere miles below where he’s ever stopped before. It opens into an abyss, so dark and empty he fears he set his coordinates too low and now he’s hovering above the Marianas trench.

He swims forward and bumps into something solid. A wall of glass coral. At his impact, a familiar an unexpected voice floats from a recording above him.

“Hello. This is Vincent Mullidae, head of transportation and Security for the Greater Pacific Region. Welcome to the Midnight Zone. If you are a resident, please feel free to draw the open symbol and be on your way. If you are visiting, please float by for more instructions.”

Duck sets the two, woven bags he’s brought with him on the floor and waits.

“If you know the name of your destination, please state it now.”

“Uh, Indrid Cold’s house?”

A pause, then yellow and pink pinpoints of light flicker in the water beyond the glass, “This color indicates the route to that residence. If at any time the lights go out, you lose your path, or you need to change course, use the tablet provided before your departure to locate the direction. It is advised that any mers unfamiliar with the area stay on the lighted paths at all times. Are you ready to proceed?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

Nothing happens.

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

“Thank you for traveling with the Pacific Municipal Vertosphere System, and enjoy your stay.”

The glass parts and he swims into the unknown. It’s a relief to find that the lamps lighting his path cast a wide circle in spite of their gentle glow.

He’s not a kid. He knows that the stories about deep sea mers lurking at the edges of trenches or the border where the light stops reaching just to drag unsuspecting sunlight mers down to do who knows what with are made up. Relics from a time when mers had shittier communication and couldn’t travel between the levels of the ocean to get to know each other. All the same, it’s hard not to see tails flicking just out of view, or imagine that the other lights he sees–mainly pathways and store fronts, now that he’s closer to the town of Sylvain–are lures meant to coax him to his doom.

Plus he’s pretty sure there are still some big-ass sharks and squids down here.

Now and then another path flickers to life, but as he understands it the local mers don’t really need the illumination to see, since they long ago adapted eyes that could pierce the darkness. It’s both useful and comforting when another path appears–each one in a different combination of colors–since it reassures him that he’s not down here all alone and also gives him a sense of the basic layout of the town.

It turns out his host lives on the end of it, and he swims up to a sea cave with an oddly rectangular opening. He raises a hand to knock at the wooden door, clearly salvaged from a wreck, when a face appears in the porthole.

“Ah, Duck Newton. Welcome” The door opens, revealing a mer with a long, black tail dotted with a line of silver dots along the top. These match his hair, which is half tied out of his face, giving Duck an unobstructed view of his glowing, red eyes and face that reminds him of sharp, pale coral. He’s a good head taller than Duck; unsurprising, given that deep mers tend to be larger than those who live in the sunlight zone.

“Please, come in. Apologies if I gave you a start, I can see the future, which means I’m always a little bit ahead. I did manage to get your room ready before you arrived; as you can see my home isn’t large, but I hope it will be to your liking.”

“Long as it’s got four walls and a roof, we’re good. I stayed some pretty bare-bones places doin’ field work.”

The other mer pauses, “Do sunlight mers also make homes from bones?”

“Uh, not usually? More like decorations or jewelry, since anything real big dies or falls down here. Mostly meant that I stayed places that weren’t much more than a glorified hole.”

“Ah, I follow. Here we are.” The mer gestures to another wooden door. Duck opens it to find a simple, seagrass bed, rock shelves for all his supplies, and plenty of lights nestled into the walls. There’s also a mosaic on the ceiling, shells and bone and debris from human wrecks cobbled together into a stunning,swirling pattern.

“Wow. You make that?”

“I did. I wanted my guest room to feel welcoming.”

“Mission accomplished.” He swims in and sets his bags by the bed.

Indrid trills in thanks, and several points of light flash blue at the end of his tail. Duck doesn’t mean to stare, but he’s never seen a light display before. The deep mers he’s met in the past were always up in his realm, where such flashes either weren’t necessary or were easy to miss.

“A rather odd place for it, I know. I do have these, but they only light up on command, not automatically.” The silver spots on his tail disappear as a row of feathery spines rise, “although these have the benefit of being slightly poisonous if something bites them or I pull one off and jab it into them.”

“Yeesh, you ever had to do that?”

“A handful of times. Mainly to other mers when I was younger and the deep was less…settled. It isn’t permanent, it just induces sluggishness for long enough for me to swim off.”

“Wow. Mers back home will just grapple if they’re really pissed over something, but most of the time you just gotta tell them to back off and they will.”

“Then I shall make a mental note not to wrestle you.” Indrid smiles, suggesting he means this as small talk, “I have some errands to attend to, but please make yourself at home. Anything in the kitchen can be shared.”

“Got it. Thanks, Indrid.”

The other mer swims towards the hall, then pauses, “Oh, and do not go beyond town once a string of red lights to the left of the house turns on. That means the giant anglers are about. It happens once a week or so. Well, see you soon!”

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Everyone he told was surprised Indrid had agreed to host a sunlight mer. None were half as surprised as he’d been when the futures suggested it was a good idea.

A corps of them has been sent down to study various parts of the deeper ecosystems over the course of five months. Indrid fully believes in cooperation between deep and sunlight mers, and has traveled upward on more than one occasion to lend his services as seer. But those trips involved very little contact with sunlight mer society more generally, and even with Duck having been here a few days, Indrid still fears he’ll be too awkward or alien and the other mer will request a new host.

It doesn’t help that he’s been called weird by other deep mers. It’s not his fault that his tail wiggles that way when he’s extremely happy, or that certain fish down here are too gelatinous for his tongue and he’ll refuse them rather than seize any meal that goes by. And he doesn’t mean to have odd manners; it’s just hard to remember all the rules of interaction when he sees others so infrequently. Even with a town in place, many deep mers venture into the sea beyond for weeks at a time.

The first week of Duck’s stay is going well, but he remains nervous no matter how kind and polite his guest is. But today, Duck asked him if he was willing to guide him to an area where certain, dark-loving anemones grow.

They’ve found the spot with little issue, and Duck is now flitting from rock to rock with understated delight.

“Lookit the shape of the base. I wonder if that helps ‘em..hmm, if I can just” he peers at where it's anchored to the stone, “no, ain’t that. Hmmm” As he swims to another outcropping he stops, looking at Indrid, “do you need to go back? Don’t bother me none if you stay but me starin at plants ain’t the most exciting thing in the sea.”

“I’d like to stay. I find it rather peaceful out here.” He settles on a rock as Duck nods and gets back to work. He sorts through some futures, lets his mind wander, but mostly he watches Duck move from spot to spot with a growing desire to see his tail in full sunlight; the green is doubtless dazzling.

“Oh damn, Indrid come look at these!”

He swims over to find Duck shining his penlight on a cluster of pale, swaying shapes.

“Ghost seahorses! I know we have them but I never manage to spot them.”

“Looks like the anemone let’s ‘em live on it. So fuckin’ cool” he makes notes into his recording shell, then waves Indrid over to ask him if that rock is supposed to be glowing (it’s not, it’s an orange spitfish in disguise).

They spend enough hours talking, or simply working and watching in companionable silence, for them both to become ravenously hungry. Once they arrive back at the house, Indrid sets out crab for dinner while Duck puts away his supplies.

“Any chance we could turn the heat up? Think the spot we were in all day was in a colder current than usual.” Duck rubs his arms to warm them as Indrid turns the knob to draw in more heat, once again grateful for whichever of his peers figured out they could guide steam up from the deepest ocean vents to heat their homes when needed.

They’re chatting about Duck’s youthful misadventures hanging out in abandoned human piers when a shape catches his eye through one of the only other windows in the house. He puts a finger to his lips and takes Duck’s hand, guiding him over to the window. He presses a button, sending deep red light across the rocky alcove, allowing Duck to see what he does without scaring away their visitor.

“Holy fuck, I didn’t know umbrella octopuses could be black.” Duck moves closer to the glass.

“As far as I can tell it’s rather rare. I started seeing one this color years ago, and left out food to entice it and other tentacled friends to visit. They are not long lived, so I suspect this one is the offspring of the one I saw when I first moved in.”

“Thanks for lettin’ me see him too.” The other mer glances at him, smile warming him more than a dozen trips sunward.

“My pleasure.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------

Duck’s packing up a box of recording shells to send up to the researchers who stayed in the sunlight zone when there’s an argument at the door. Poking his head into the hall, he sees Indrid’s tail flickering orange and red.

“For the last time, if you want predictions that complex, you have to bring payment with you. The contingencies alone will take me hours to sort through.”

“Fine” The voice at the door snaps, “I’ll bring you something. Keep your tail here until I do.”

Duck bristles at the tone; no one deserves to be spoken to like that, least of all someone as captivating as Indrid.

“What was all that?” He swims to the door as Indrid leans against it, arms crossed.

“A party of mers are going out in search of a giant squid. I assume to sell to humans or to eat. They want my help but keep trying to get out of paying for it.”

“Can’t you just take an IOU? Back home we do that all the time, figuring folks are good for it. Or you do a favor knowin’ they’ll do one for you down the road.”

“I wish it worked like that, but deep mers are still so prone to limited interactions with each other it is hard to trade favors. And an IOU is useless when so many of us are content to disappear into the abyss rather than make a home somewhere.”

“Makes sense. You want me to catch dinner so you can wait for ‘em?”

“Please.”

Duck picks up some crabs–Indrid and he both like them, and he happens to know these ones are pests if you live in a house made of wood, bone, or both–and returns to find Indrid dragging something white through the front door.

“Is that-”

“-whalebone? Yes. And big enough that we can throw out that uncomfortable bench in the main room and replace it with this.”

It’s a good idea. Besides, then Indrid could paint or carve into the bone, really make it nice and, and…

And Duck should stop thinking about that. About staying. About this being his home, too. Eventually he’ll have to go sunwards again. So he should just enjoy his time with Indrid while he has it.

—----------------------------------------------------

“Inside! Get back inside!”

Duck reverses course, backing into the house as Indrid comes barreling towards him. The instant the other mer is in, he slams the door and hurriedly swims to each window.

“What’s-”

“-Biting shrimp, an entire migration of them. And worse, after that subsides three days from now, we have two days of red devil squid to look forward to.”

Duck shudders, “Those come up sometimes to feed and I fuckin hate ‘em. One nearly took a chunk of my tail.”

“Hence my absence this morning and my hasty arrival; I had to warn as many neighbors as I could before the swarm began. Ugh!” He flinches as the first few shrimp hit the windows, “I hate them, the biting is bad enough but they crawl all over you and I HATE how their little feet feel–no don’t open that!”

“I won’t let ‘em in to crawl on you.” Duck opens the side window enough to reach his hand out and grab the black octopus, who wriggles in alarm until he releases it inside.

“Oh. You…you wanted to save Void. I mean, ah-”

“I know you named him, ‘Drid. Heard you talkin’ to him the other day. His kind ain’t feisty, and it’d break my fuckin heart to look out that window and see a squid get him.”

Indrid’s tail flashes light purple, “Thank you. I am sorry, I was hoping your time down here would be pleasant but alas, the sea had other plans. We have more than enough food, so hopefully it will not drive you mad to spend five days stuck in the house with me.”

Duck can tell when a joke isn’t a joke, and so he swims close enough to brush his tail along Indrid’s, “I like your company plenty, ‘Drid. Besides, this ain’t all that worse than seabird season; can be minding’ your own business and then BAM, something dives after a fish and smacks into you instead.”

“Goodness, that would be startling. Even for me.”

“My buddy Ned got one tangled in his hair once.” Duck moves to the dinner table, “wanna play Ten Shells before dinner?”

“Oooh, yes please!”

The first two days don’t feel all that strange. He and Indrid eat their meals and play games and listen to books or nap, often side by side. But by day three his body and brain register that he’s been cooped up instead of out in the kelp forests and reefs (or the crags and open ocean, as the case has been these last few months). Sensing his restlessness, Indrid pulls a surprise from the pantry.

“Coconut wine? Damn, how’d you get this?”

“A friend of mine who’s a cook. He likes to send me care packages since moving upwards.”

Indrid’s bedroom is the most insulated from the sounds of the shrimp hitting the house, so they’ve taken to spending a lot of time there, safe from the skitter of thousands of feet. Void floats after them, in search of either kelp snacks or new items to take apart or squeeze inside of.

The wine goes down easy, so easy that when Indrid suggests they open another bottle Duck is all for it. By the time his tablet shows its sunset on the surface, he and Indrid are well past tipsy, trading stories of their younger days and travels.

“You, y’know, a, a buddy of mine swore he took a summer trip and hooked up with a deep mer that had six eyes and, and six dicks.”

Indrid laughs, “Claiming both is, hic, rather a stretch. I’ve known, hic, a few with four eyes but, hic, never six.”

“What about the dicks?”

“A gentlemer never, hic, tells.”

“Aww, c’mon.” Duck rolls so his head is on Indrid’s shoulder, “always wondered if, if deep mer fuckin’ s’wild as they say.”

“Mmm” Indrid rubs their cheeks together, “because every–hic–one knows sunshine mers only kiss in the clear blue water and, hic, mate after marriage.”

Duck giggles, “Pfft, naw. Get up to plenty of wild stuff. Just, y’know, when you’re all sixteen and shootin the shit, someone always talks ‘bout a friend of a friend who got carried off by a deep mer and came back swimmin’ funny or with bites. Or didn’t come back at all ‘cuz the deep mer was so horny it kept ‘em.”

“Goodness” Indrid’s tail flashes deeper and deeper purple, “we don’t do that. No, hic, no matter how fun it sounds. Unless you, hic, think it sounds scary. Then it’s scary and I’d, hic, never do it.”

Duck nestles closer, blushing “Definitely jerked it a few times thinkin’ about it. And if it were you…wouldn’t be scared of you. Couldn’t be.”

Indrid trills softly, tail a pale blue, “I would never want you to be. No matter how fun it sounds to hunt you.’

“Thought you didn’t eat us.” He teases.

His friend yawns, then curls his tail beneath him, “Some deep mers prefer quick mating, hic, sessions. But others prefer to draw them out, to chase each other down once they’ve agreed to, hic, be together. Both come are holdovers from when it was much harder to find others in the, hic, dark depths. I always preferred the hunt.”

“Let you hunt me anytime, darlin.”

A gentle purr as Indrid takes his hand, “Let’s let the wine wear off first. Then we can talk about it.”

Duck snuggles in for a nap, “S’fine by me.”

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

After a long talk and what felt like an even longer wait, Duck floats in the main room, realizing just how much a courtesy Indrid did him by keeping the lights on all the time. Because with them all off he can’t see more than a few inches in front of him.

He swims forward, unnerved by the fact he has no idea where the other mer is; the house isn’t that big, and Indrid isn’t small. So where the fuck is he?

“My, my. Whatever is a little ray of sunshine doing down here?”

Duck spins to his left in time to see glowing red eyes appear in the darkness, accompanied by a possessive, green flash of the tail.

“I, I don’t mean no harm. I was out for a swim and I got turned around and with all those squid around I had to find shelter.”

“I see…” The red eyes move closer, “and you’re not at all here because you’re a nosy little thing who wanted a peek at some big, scary, deep mers?”

“No” he gasps as Indrid’s tail coils around the base of his own.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you what happens to sweet, warm sunlight mers who wander too far from home?”

“N-nope” He shivers as Indrid’s tail loops tighter. Is it really so much longer than his?

“Then allow me to enlighten you: it is a lonely life down here. My own kind prefer to move, never settling in one place, which makes, shall we say, courtship? Difficult. Which is why some of us like to find a foolhardy mer who swam further than they should and keep them as nice, soft toy. Or place to lay, if that’s one’s preference.”

“It ain’t!” It’s more of a squeak than he means it to be, but all the same he wrenches his tail free and swims as fast as he can away from Indrid. This doesn’t get him very far, and he pretends not to know where the bedroom doors are as Indrid rounds the corner after him. The other mer hits a rock on the wall as he does this, bringing enough light to the space to reveal himself.

If Duck really was minding his own business and turned to see that rushing towards him, he’d be terrified.

As it is, the most he can manage is a moan as Indrid catches him with his arms and tail.

“Such a rude guest, running away from the one who gave you shelter.” He plucks a spine from his tail and jabs it into Duck’s own. It doesn’t hurt, but Duck thrashes to keep up appearances.

“What the fuck was that?”

“Some insurance against you running off again. It’s not as if I need you mobile for this.”

Duck’s tail is barely strong enough to keep him afloat, his arms feel heavy, and his brain is foggy, meaning it feels like a slow-motion dream as Indrid pulls him in for a kiss. It’s shockingly gentle given the context, and even the little nip to the corner of his mouth as Indrid pulls away feels sweet.

“Much better. Come along.” Indrid carefully guides him into his bedroom, pausing as they reach the pile of seagrass that he nests in, “sweet one? Are you certain you’ll be able to respond if it becomes too much?”

“Uh huh” Duck pets his face, “feel a little loopy, but I’m all here.”

A relieved smile turns sharp, “Good. Now let me see what I have to look forward to.” He pushes Duck onto the bed, curling their tails together as his fingers tease the sensitive patch of scales near Duck’s belly. Duck whimpers as they ripple open, revealing his slit and several short, flexible tendrils on all sides of it.

“Oooh!” Indrid trills, tail wiggling even as it holds Duck in place, “you sunlight mers, every part of you is so welcoming.”

“Fuck you.” He gasps as Indrid sinks his teeth into his shoulder. The pain doesn’t let up until he actually cries out.

“Now, now, don’t fuss.” Indrid grins, “If you behave I will have no need to do that again. Here is what will happen. I am going to try you out, and if I enjoy myself, I will keep you.”

“I, uh, I ain’t gonna, I won’t, uh, fuck.

“It doesn’t matter if you enjoy it. I just said it was for me.” a hungry purr, “and how could I do anything but enjoy myself, with a lovely thing such as you?” Indrid moves a hand down his tail, gripping the base of the cock emerging from his slit. It’s thicker at the bottom than at the tip, though there are two short protrusions on the tip, giving it the appearance of horns. Two rows of bumps run along the bottom, which is a new one for Duck.

He tries to back away but the combination of Indrid’s grip and the poison make it impossible. All he can do is lay there as Indrid slides in with a low, possessive trill.

“Nnnnf, oh you are wonderful. So warm, so soft” he digs his fingers into Duck’s belly, “I, I do not know why any of you waste your time up there, when clearly all you were meant for is being willing holes for mers with far harder lives.”

“No, no we’re not.”

Indrid thrusts harder, “‘We?’ Not ‘I’? Interesting. Maybe you did come down here just for this.”

“Uh uh, I didn’t, I FUCK” he moans as the horns at the tip of the dick begin moving on their own.

“Do you like them? They double as ovipositors. Right now they’re, ah, investigating to see if you’re the right place. Ohoh it seems you like that.” Indrid grins triumphantly as Duck’s tendrils coil around the base of his cock.

Duck nods, too overwhelmed by the feeling of Indrid inside him, of their tails twined together, to keep up the ruse of resistance.

“Good. Now, let me see, if they’re positioned like that…”

“AHFUCK” Duck clings to Indrid’s biceps as he fucks him harder, the motion functionally jerking the tendrils off, “fuck yeah, that’s it’s darlin.”

“Oh I’m darling now, am I? I like the sound of that.” He nibbles Duck’s neck, “such nice manners you have up there.”

“‘Drid, please, please I’m gonna cum if you keep doin’ that.”

“That’s rather the point. Well, that and fill you so full you never doubt who you belong to now. But no laying today, I think. We can do that later. It’s not as if you’ll be going anywhere, my lovely little cocksleeve.”

Duck cums with a groan, the sensation heightened by the fact the rest of his body can do little but twitch as it races through him. Indrid pounds into his limp body with a triumphant snarl, tail and spines flashing blue and purple as he cums in him with a trill.

They roll onto their sides, in no hurry to separate, and Indrid coats his face in slow, loving kisses until Duck drops it onto his shoulder.

“Satisfied, sweet one?”

“Fuck yeah. Sleepy too, but I can’t tell how much is from you stabbing me or you just wore me out.”

“Technically both are stabbings.”

Duck snorts a laugh and headbutts his shoulder.

There’s nothing but the faint sound of Void playing with a puzzle cube until Indrid murmurs, “I wish you could stay forever.”

“Me too. And maybe I could, someday. Or maybe you could stay with me.”

“Dearest, your trip ends in two months.”

“So? Don’t even take twenty minutes from here to home in the VertoSphere. We could visit each other whenever we want. There’s some places up there I’m dyin’ to show you. If, uh, if you want.”

Indrid cuddles closer, purring, “You would truly let a deep mer be your partner.”

Duck kisses his nose, “Hell yeah I would.”

#indruck #mermay #duck x indrid #indrid cold/duck newton #mermaid au

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skylarstark4826 · 16 days