Hi, i can’t help but request this because you write so beautifully.
So I just had the idea of a former ballerina being sacrificed to Sukuna. She does her work good and gracefully but she longs for old times where she was able to dance and feel like she’s flying again. So she does it in the evening in Sukunas garden. He of course notices and as culture lover he is he makes her his personal dancer. And a cute lil love story forms from this scenario.
I would be so thankful if you form this to a proper story because i don’t have enough imagination. Love your work
Thank you for the compliment! I apologize in advance for my butchered descriptions of dance scenes and hope you like what I came up with anyways <3
Swan Lake
Sukuna x Reader
Word count: 6.3k
Tags/warnings: gn! reader but the words maid, whore and bitch are used, true form! sukuna, bullying, fluff with a very brief and soft smut scene at the end!
Sukuna doesn't care where his servants come from. People get offered to him all the time, and he takes them when he feels his palace is understaffed. And that happens quite often, considering how eagerly Sukuna gets rid of his servants for the smallest inconveniences. His staff is disposable to him, having no value beyond the services they provide him with.
So he doesn't know about your past. He doesn't know you were once an esteemed entertainer. He doesn't know that you were touring the world, sharing your art with audiences of all different classes and ranks in society. He doesn't know you were once the star of the stage, hypnotizing people with the fluidity of your movements in rhythm with the music. He doesn't know you were snatched from fame, taken against your will and brought to him to pay your capturer's debt. You're not sure he's even properly looked at you, much less heard your capturer tell him who you are. You were that worthless to him.
Now you are but a maid. You spend your days on your knees, mopping blood soaked floors. At night, you share chambers with dozens of other servants. Privacy is a foreign concept in Sukuna's palace. You are not entitled to it even in the bathroom. Everything is shared for the servants. There's no space for you to even try to indulge in your beloved profession, even as a hobby. Except...
The garden. Most servants are in bed, prepared to sleep, but your eyes linger on the windows. In every way, going to the garden would be to your own detriment. Losing sleep was dangerous, it could lead to getting caught slacking off, or being ratted out about it. And the consequences for that... well. One could only imagine it wouldn't be a simple slap on the wrist.
Still, you longed for this. The work you did during the day drained you, it was repetitive and soulless. You weren't made to clean floors. You were made to dance, it was your destiny. Since childhood, you don't remember a period of time as long as this one, where you haven't had the opportunity to enjoy your passion. Tears stung your eyes as this revelation found you. Every day, you could feel your life slipping through your fingers. You were alive, but your energy, your liveliness, your personality, all of it was dissipating in the pools of blood you were forced to clean.
''Can you be quiet? Some of us are trying to sleep.'', a servant who sleeps in the bed next to yours snaps you out of your thoughts. You are sobbing. You apologize quickly, and snuggle in bed, trying to muffle the noises against your deflated pillow.
But sleep just doesn't take you that night. You grow more and more frustrated, as time passes and you toss and turn in bed. Eyes wide open, fixed to the window across you. The garden lures you, calls for you. Damn it. You have to try. This is not much of a life anyways, you think. Sooner or later Sukuna or Uraume would find faults in what you're doing anyways, and you'd be served for dinner. You don't exactly have a lot to lose.
Sneaking out of the chambers is easy. You spent your whole life on your tippy toes. No one moves in their sleep as you cross the room, open the door and slide through the crack. Quietly, you make your way around the mansion. Outside, you're greeted by a light summer breeze. The garden is eerily peaceful, lit by the moonlight in this late hour.
You start to warm up, hopping, circling your neck, swinging your legs. Feeling the stretches in muscles you forgot you had. The grass tickles your legs as you splay across the ground and reach for your feet. Then stand and shift your weight to your toes, feeling out how rusty you've gotten in the time you've missed out on practicing. It's not too bad.
So you start out slow. The music plays in your head and you mouth silently, counting the rhythm. Your eyes are glued to the ground, you're trying not to trip and fall on the uneven surface. Your movement feels as smooth as it did before, but you can't see yourself in the mirror to check your form. You close your eyes, surrendering to the cadence of your motions. The music carries you, and as you turn into a poised second arabesque, time seems to slow. It's only a moment, but when you turn back to continue...
Slam. So hard you start to fall back, but his arms catch you around the waist. If you weren't scared out of your mind you would've wondered how did he even show up there without you noticing. But of course, he's Sukuna. You look at him with eyes so wide you think they may fall out, and he stares back with an amused smirk. Then he bites the air in front of you, clanking his sharp teeth together, and you scream in response. His hand flies to your mouth in an instant and he shuts you up.
"Quiet now. You wouldn't want to wake your colleagues up, would you?", he tilts his head, observing your terrified expression. "Or do you want everyone to slack off with you tomorrow?"
"I-I won't slack off I promise!!!", you panic, hands shaking as you bring them up in a defensive stance. Tears pool in your eyes as you stare death in the face. He is... weirdly beautiful, lit by the moonlight. And he holds you sturdily, but gently. It doesn't hurt. And he doesn't seem particularly mad.
"Is that so?", he asks. There's a smile on his face, but it feels dangerous, threatening. Like everything else about him. "Then just what do you think you're doing outside at this hour?"
"I was- I was dancing -", you stutter, struggling to form coherent sentences. Why are you so close to him? You're pulled flush against him. You can almost feel his -
"I didn't know I had a dancer in my ranks. Why didn't you say so?", he says, and surprisingly lets go of you.
You're so sure he's playing with his food. You're so sure he's going to slice you into pieces. You've already crossed so many lines, broken so many rules. You look to the ground, only now remembering eye contact with him was strictly forbidden.
"Speak.", he growls, audibly irritated by your refusal to reply.
You didn't think he was genuinely asking. What the hell are you supposed to say? Why didn't you say so? Maybe because you wanted to see the light of day again? "I ... A lowlife such as myself has no place speaking to your Highness.", you duck your head low in an apologetic manner. And he seems satisfied, smiling playfully again. Except you don't see it, you feel it. Sukuna's presence pulls the most demeaning, self-depricating things out of people's mouths.
"Humble.", he comments and walks a couple steps around you. He's huge. "Go on then, dance for me."
You stand frozen. It's not that you're ashamed... you've performed for audiences bigger than you ever could've imagined. But the weight of his stare is harder to bear than that of hundreds. And the stakes are higher than ever. He has to like it, or else...
"Dance!", he orders sternly, and crosses his arms over his chest. So you give it your all. Remembering where he interrupted you, you get back into position and start. Dance. Your life depends on it, doesn't it? Well if there's one thing you can do to save your life it should be this.
But it's not like before. Fear seeps into every muscle in your body, and your movements are unsure. Every jump is fleeting, every landing shaky. Tears blur your vision, and it's so hard to keep your breathing steady when you're struggling not to cry. But you're a ballet dancer, you were trained to endure. You finish the variation, cross your legs and gracefully bow.
Sukuna watches intently with narrowed eyes, like a predator stalking his prey. You can't see the sly smile on his face, but you can feel it.
"I apologize, your Highness.", your voice trembles. "It wasn't my best."
Sukuna huffs in amusement and waves his hand dismissively. "Go to sleep.", he orders.
You bow before him again, and quickly turn back towards the mansion. You don't feel relief from his piercing stare until you disappear behind a corner in the hallway.
You can't shake the feeling when you're back in your bed, snuggled in the sheets up to your eyes. You just survived a close encounter with Sukuna. And he must've liked what he saw at least a little bit, if you're still alive.
The next morning, you wake up and start getting ready for work with the other servants. The bathroom is busy, and as there's little else to do in the servant circles, gossiping starts immediately.
"Did you hear the scream last night?", the servant taking up the sink next to yours says, tapping foundation into her skin.
"Screams come from Sukuna's chambers all the time. It must be a new pet getting used to him.", another one replies. You shiver.
"Everyone knows how that sounds. This was different!", the two maids exchange a look.
The second rolls her eyes. "So, he killed someone. Nothing new.", she shakes her head.
"No. Uraume would've called someone to clean it up immediately.", the first servant continues. You really, really wish they would just drop it, until... "Hey you.", she turns to you. "Your bed was empty last night, did you hear anything?"
Your blood runs cold. "I was... feeling sick. And went to the bathroom.", you say quickly. "I probably couldn't hear... over the sound of throwing up."
"Hm.", both of them look at you now. "Well you look sick too.", one of them says. "Be careful with work today.", then they finish up and leave. You breathe a sigh of relief and finish up getting ready.
The next few days pass spotlessly. You don't cross paths with Sukuna. But some nights, you feel his presence in the garden. You stretch and practice simple movements in the bathroom, when no one's around. And the variations, you save them for the garden. At night. The only time you feel alive, the only time you feel like yourself. Human. Free. You think you might just get away with no one knowing, but then...
He walks past you and another maid while you're scrubbing the floors in the hallway. Both of you freeze as he passes by, assuming a submissive position and greeting him. You pray he won't notice, pray he won't know you by your voice, but he stops. Right by you, and then there's a moment of silence. He lifts his foot, touching your chin, and nudges you to look at him.
"Oh.", you watch his stern expression soften. "It's a shame for a talent like yourself to waste away on their knees.", he says. You look to the servant next to you, and she mouths a silent 'what?' as she turns her head in your direction.
You swallow your shame. It's not the first time you had to in front of Sukuna. "Its an honor to serve you, your Highness, even if it's on my knees.", you say.
Sukuna hums. "What a good servant you are.", an amused smile graces his face once again. "Well, get to rubbing then.", he nudges your face back downwards with his foot, and walks away.
You and the servants keep rubbing intensively, until he's out of sight and a couple minutes have passed. Then she grabs you by your shoulders and gives you a look that is both terrified and angry. "You did what with Sukuna?", she asks.
You frown, offended. Why does everyone in this mansion immediately think of that? "He knows I'm a dancer.", you say simply and look back to the floor, rage brewing in your chest.
"When did you do it. Was it you screaming? Oh my god it was!", the revelation hits the servant and she puts her hands on her cheeks, looking at you in shock.
"It wasn't me!!", you lie, agitation showing in your voice.
"Does he really have two dicks?", she asks.
You drain the washing rug and smack her in the face with it. "You disgusting pervert, how dare you ask that about your master!"
"You hit me! Whore!", she smacks you back, but harder, and her rag is full of dirty water.
"I'm not a whore!!", you cry, and wipe your face with your dirty, wet hands.
"Dancer. Yeah right, I can only imagine!", she throws the wet rag on you, and it sits on your lap, soaking you in the nasty liquid. "And you're a liar too! How shameless!"
"What is this commotion about?", a voice calls from the back of the hallway, and you turn around with teary eyes. Uraume looks like a blob of white in your vision, nonetheless they're recognizable.
"Tell them! You hit me, you little bitch!", the servant slaps your shoulder. You don't have it in you to fight back. The injustice pains your heart, and you can't bear the embarrassment.
Uraume smirks, noting your disheveled appearance. Your whole uniform is soaked now, even your hair. There's a pool of water forming around you as the liquid seeps out of the rags. "Clean this mess immediately. Master will be notified of this issue.", they say, and walk past the two of you.
The servant looks at you with contempt burning in her eyes. Then spits in front of you. "Clean.", she says, takes the rag you hit her with and starts cleaning.
Sukuna sees you that evening. He sits on his throne, head in his hand, and looks down on you and the other servant. He hides his inner smile, the joy he takes in executing power over others. And it's you again. He asks what this is about, and the servant wastes no time pointing her finger at you, saying you hit her first.
Sukuna's critical stare turns to you. ''Is that true?'', he asks, scanning you from head to toe, noting the state you're in. He's not particularly happy to see you like that.
You timidly nod, admitting your fault in the situation. Your stare is fixed to the ground, where dirty water drips down from your soaked clothes. You smell, and look like a rat, all of that in front of Sukuna. You wish the ground would swallow you whole and spare you this humiliation.
But he knows you. You've captivated him. Otherwise he wouldn't have cared to ask if you have anything to say in your defense. You tell him, omitting the details of her perverse question, you simply say she was slandering his holy name.
Sukuna moves, leaning his elbows on his knees. You care about his name? How lovely. So what is this slanderous thing his servants fought about?
Silence. You and the servant exchange uncomfortable looks. If there was one thing the both of you could agree on for the day, it was that repeating it in front of him was too vulgar. With that, Sukuna quickly grows bored with the situation. When he raises his hand, both of you flinch, expecting immediate punishment. However, nothing happens when he flicks his fingers. You're dismissed.
Quickly, both of you scurry away, leaving the throne room and going back to your jobs. The rest of the day is harrowing. The rumor spreads among the servants quickly, and you are the butt of every joke. You hear whispering and giggling behind your back, and everyone's stares linger on you as you go about your day. The culmination happens next morning, when the servants are getting ready in the bathroom, and the insults start getting more direct.
''Show us how you dance for Sukuna, why don't you?''
''Did you take both at the same time?''
''He didn't like you very much if you're still working as a servant.''
And then everyone goes quiet. When you turn around, you see Uraume at the door, their eyes fixed on you. ''Come.'', they say quietly, and leave without waiting for you to catch up. Well, it seems your punishment is due. You gladly leave the bathroom and follow them down the hall, anything is better than spending another second with the other servants. But now that you think of it, where is the servant that shares your punishment? Have you even seen her this morning? Or after the meeting with Sukuna at all?
You turn a couple corners, and stop at the end of the hallway. Uraume opens the doors to a room, and ushers you inside. What is this? It's furnished. Modestly, but... You open your mouth to ask a question, but you're quickly cut off.
''Make yourself at home.'', they say, and turn their attention to you.
''What about my things?'', you ask, looking around the room, then back to Uraume.
''You won't need them. Do you have good table manners?''
''Uhh.. yeah... I think.''
''Great. You dine with Master Sukuna tonight.''
''Huh!?''
''Your outfit is on the bed, be ready by sunset. I'll come to pick you up.''
Then the door closes and you're left alone in your new room. This isn't what a punishment should look like. Not when a beautiful kimono waits on your bed. Not when there's a barre fixed onto a mirrored wall, and there's a box on the ground, and when you open it, you find pointe shoes. Multiple pairs. He didn't know what size to get you. Ribbons, a sewing kit, glue, scissors... everything you need to break them in. Under that, a simple black leotard and a wrap skirt. By all means... this looks more like a reward.
You try everything on, find the perfect pair of shoes, and test them. It's not a big room, but there's enough space for you to practice with the bar. For the first time in so long, time passes quick. You're doing something you enjoy. It feels like in a blink of an eye, your shadow gets long on the wall opposing the window, and you have to get ready for dinner. You put the kimono on to the best of your ability - you don't have the opportunity to wear it often as a servant, being usually restrained in a uniform. And then reality hits you. Sukuna wants to have you over for dinner. This... is this a date? Unless he was planning to eat you, but you suppose he wouldn't have bought you shoes and furnished a room specially for you if that was the case... Come to think of it, what are you eating tonight?
Uraume knocks on the door, and takes a long look at you when you open. They fix your collar and nod, taking off down the hallway and expecting you to follow. They lead you to the dining room, vast and expensively furnished. You hear your heartbeat drumming in your ears. You only let your eyes explore for a second, before you fix them back to the ground and lower your head in Sukuna's presence.
''Your Highness.'', you bow in his direction.
''Master from now on.'', he says, and stands up to greet you. Master. You've only heard Uraume, and occasionally his pets, when he'd walk by with them, call him this by this... less formal title. He towers over you as his hand touches your shoulder, urging you to turn around. You follow obediently, making a circle and displaying your outfit.
He hums in approval. "Suits you much better than a cleaning uniform.", he says, and pulls your chair out for you to sit. You mutter a quiet thank you and sit down, already overwhelmed by the interaction.
He sits on the other side of the table, facing you. You can't bear the intense eye contact, and the silence that spreads across the room. Your eyes are fixed to your hands in your lap. ''Don't be shy now. I didn't invite you to sit there and be quiet. I reserve such duties for my pets.'', he breaks the silence.
''Master. Sharing a meal with you is a privilege, and I want to thank you for that. I'm not sure I'm deserving of it, though, and how my company may be of use to you.''. The kitchen servants scatter around the table, bringing food and pouring drinks. Various appetizers decorate the table, and only now do you notice you're hungry. You shyly pick the foods that catch your eye the most.
And your humility draws out a smile from him. ''You are an artist. And I am a man who takes great joy in consuming art.'', he says, and taps his finger against his glass, watching you pick. He's getting to know you, through your taste in food.
''I didn't know that about you.'', you say and look to your plate. You feel your hand shaking as you reach for the cutlery. You know Sukuna is judging every move. He was in your territory when you were dancing, now you're on his. And he will recognize the smallest mistake.
''Oh.'', his tone changes. It sounds like he didn't particularly like that comment. He finishes chewing. ''Did you take me for a savage?'', he narrows his eyes. More food is brought to the table, plates come and go quickly as the conversation progresses, and the tension grows.
You stutter, reading his volatile mood. ''I've only heard rumors.''.
He huffs in amusement again. ''I've heard rumors about you too.'', he says, leaning into the table. ''To be fair, I was asking around.''. So he took interest in you. ''They say you were the best there was, until you got captured.''
You chew slowly, taking his story in. He continues. ''They asked about you. Asked if I knew where you are. I said no.''. Sukuna watches as you grow visibly distressed by the mentions of your team. ''The best there is? What a wonderful prize. I'd rather keep you to myself.''. Oh. So that's what this is about. He gets off on the thought of owning you, the best there is, just for himself. You curse whoever told him about you. ''You showed me your worst, and mesmerized me. I want you to show me your best. Dance for me. Convince me you're worth my patronage.''.
The servants bring the main dish, and your head droops, stare fixed into the finely decorated red meat. You touch it with your cutlery, feeling it's texture. Sukuna eyes you as you cut a slice and bring it to your mouth, expectantly waiting for your reaction. You chew slowly, savoring the taste, but your expression is puzzled. ''What is this?'', you ask. And to make sure it doesn't sound like you're unhappy, you cut another slice. Truthfully, the food is incredible, but... you can't quite place the meat.
Sukuna bares his sharp teeth in a grin. ''Veal.''.
The conversation steers into a different direction then, and you quickly forget about how powerless you felt just moments ago. Sukuna is nothing like you've imagined him. He's right, you did take him for a savage. After all, everything you've heard about him pointed to a monster, who only took pleasure in wreaking havoc and destruction. Now, you find him to be eloquent, knowledgeable, and quite sophisticated. In a way, he appears similar to the other people you've met through your job. But way more powerful, and with it, way more intriguing.
Once again, time passes quickly, slipping through your fingers. The dinner is over, and you're facing Sukuna at the door. He seems to be pleased with your company, if you can read his face at all. ''Should I consider my offer accepted?'', he inquires. ''Everything will be provided for you. You just have to dance.''.
Well, it doesn't sound half bad, does it? You're not sure if the terms of the offers convinced you, or his presentation during the dinner. It might just be him. He made you feel you wouldn't be a jester, but a respected entertainer. And not for just anyone, but for a man as thoughtful and cultured as Sukuna proved himself to be. ''For you, gladly. Master.'', you smile at him. And he smiles back, taking your small hand into his, and planting a soft kiss to your fingers. You bow to him, wish him a good night, and you part ways.
Later, in your new bed, you find yourself replaying the interaction. Tracing his features in your memory. It's the first time you've had the chance to observe him, without fear of consequences. And he was beautiful. So elegant in the way he dressed and carried himself. Like a true king.
From then on, life in Sukuna's mansion is a game. Sukuna courts you in his dining room, feeding you delicacies from all around the world Foods that are hard and expensive to come by, that you've never heard of before. He courts you with the things he allows you to do, and the gifts he gives you. You dance and eat and walk around his garden and library. You don't dine with him every night, but when you do, rest assured that a new outfit is waiting for you in your room when you get back from practice.
And you court him on the floor, with feathery leaps that leave him on the edge of his seat, and dizzying turns that force him to focus all four eyes on you. You court him when you finish the variation by bowing before him, on one knee, a breath away from where he's sitting. And when you look up at him, he sees a lover rather than a personal dancer. Even though he's never touched you, or pressed his lips to yours.
There is love in the foods he picks for you specifically to enjoy, and there is love in the way you let him watch you practice. Even if you mess up, misstep and fall out of rhythm. Even if you stumble and fall in the most unceremonious of ways. There is vulnerability in letting him see you fail. It only happens a handful of times, but when you slip before him, you feel more naked than you would ever feel with your clothes off. And the relationship that the two of you foster grows intimate, despite the formal distance you keep from each other.
And that distance closes in, one day when Sukuna is there during a particularly nasty fall. You yelp when you hit the ground, and reach for your ankle, checking for injury. You only notice Sukuna when you feel his hand on your shoulder, and his brows furrowed in worry as his head looms over you. Your eyes meet for a moment, and you're hypnotized. Then you look away quickly, feeling your face heat up from the closeness.
''It's nothing.'', you say, and look down.
''Sure?'', Sukuna asks and stands up. You nod, and he offers you a pair of his hands, to help you stand. You take them, and he hoists you up effortlessly. And now you're face to face with his chest, and you're still holding his hands... ''That should to for today.'', he says, and when you look at him, there's a tender smile on his face. It sounds like a suggestion, but you've learned Sukuna is subtle about giving you orders. You nod, dust yourself off and untie your shoes.
That night, you recall his touch on your skin. Long fingernails ghosting over your shoulder, sending shivers through your whole body. You never expected Sukuna to have it in him to be gentle. But, that wouldn't be the first time he's broken the mold you thought he fit. And now in the cold of night, you find yourself craving him.
The next time you're invited to dinner, the tension is almost unbearable. ''Aren't you a sight to behold?'', he tells you when he welcomes you into the room. He always gives you compliments, but tonight they weigh heavy on your heart. You look across the table and curse every plate and glass that stands between the two of you. You look at him with quiet longing, and you think he knows. Because his smile is victorious, almost teasing. And when you accidentally hit his leg under the table, you start to credit it less to his size, and more to him deliberately crossing into your space. Subtlety is not a word you ever thought you'd attribute to Sukuna, but it seems this is the way you've established communication. You resist the instinct to remove your leg apologetically. So they stay touching.
Unfortunately, this little interaction slowly turns your brain into mush. By the last bite, your hand is trembling and you know you don't have the precision to pick up the last piece of food with your chopsticks. So you leave it on the plate, and wait for a moment when Sukuna is at least a little bit distracted, to attempt eating it again.
But such a thing doesn't happen. Today, he looks at you like you're the food on his plate. "Come on, eat it.", he nods in your direction. You can't read his expression, but it seems benevolent.
"I'm so full.", you make up an excuse.
"Just one strip.", he nudges your leg under the table, and you flinch, cheeks heating up.
"I.. I think I'll combust.", lies.
"I'll be offended.", Sukuna plays along with your game.
"Ah...", he wins, and you pick up your chopsticks with shaky hands. But as hard as you try, the little piece of food keeps escaping you, traveling through the plate.
"What makes you so flustered today?", he asks. "Is it the leg?". You blink at the plate, and feel your face going as red as the wine in your glass. "Come.", he waves his finger at you. You lean into the table, used to following his commands. And in no time, he is looming over your plate, one hand picking the last piece of your food with his chopsticks, and the other gently taking hold of your chin, nudging your mouth open. You part your lips obediently, and he places the bit onto your tongue, never breaking eye contact. His face is mere centimeters away from yours, observing you as you chew.
And the moment you've swallowed, and opened your mouth for air, he seizes you in a kiss. Slow, as he tastes your lips, and lets you adjust and catch up with him. He feels you go tense with the initial shock, then relax in his hold and kiss him back. His tongue brushes past your lips, and you think you'll sink right through your chair, and into the earth beneath the floor. The taste, the smell of him, so expensive and intoxicating. If this moment could last forever -
Foolish you. So much stress and tension, and you barely notice how quickly it passes. , how quickly his lips leave yours. His eyes scan your face, making sure you're alright, and then he's back in his chair. "There.", he says, "Have something to be flustered about."
That night, you think about his lips, slipping away from yours and moving to your neck, collarbones, shoulders. Not stopping until they've explored your whole body and touched your soul.
In the meantime, you practice your chosen choreography to perfection. And when you're standing in his throne room and awaiting the music, and your deciding performance to start, it's the first time in a while that you recognize feeling nervous. Uraume is there too, and his other disciples and guests. But he is the only one that matters. The only one your life depends on. Although the times when your life was truly on the line are long gone, Sukuna is still your patron, and now it's your turn to either satisfy or disappoint him.
The music starts, and the nervousness wanes as you start dancing. Sukuna's gaze is heavy, critical. He's seen you do this times and times already, but now it's final. Now, he's telling you, ''Bewitch me.''. Now, you're joining it together, one seamless show just for his enjoyment. And with every spin, you keep your eyes fixed on him. Enticing him with your movement, seducing him.
And for once, time passes quick for Sukuna as well. He finds himself lost in your dance. In your quick glances, in the way your body moves, contorts, withstands your weight on your tippy toes with so much grace and fluidity. You make it look easy. You nail the landing you failed so many times before his very eyes, perfectly, effortlessly. He almost wonders if you fell intentionally when he was watching you. And he's captivated. By the end of your performance, you earn his smile. You earn the clap of his hands, you even earn his standing ovation. The king himself, honoring you with the highest form of praise.
''It takes quite a performer, to entertain a crowd all by oneself.'', he comments later, over dinner. ''You've convinced me. You're worth keeping.''
''And when I can't dance anymore?'', you ask.
''You'll still be able to eat with me.'', he says.
At the doors, he bends down to kiss you again. You anticipate it, and accept it, kneading your hands through his hair. He asks if you're tired, and you shake your head no. He asks if you want to come with him. Yes, please yes, you've wanted to for so long. You almost thought he'd never ask. Again, his face lights up in a victorious smile.
He walks you through the halls, to his quarters of the mansion. Vast, and decorated with various works of art. They hang on the wall, or stand on the cupboards in forms of statues of various sizes. Sukuna likes to collect things, if that wasn't evident by your presence in the mansion.
''You're dragging behind. Did you have a change of heart?'', he asks, and extends his hand towards you. You step closer, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. You're standing at the doors of his bedroom.
''I was just admiring the interior.'', you smile at him, and take it upon yourself to cross the doorstep. His bedroom overlooks the garden, through a tall set of windows, little plants sitting on his windowsill. And his bed is massive. You think it could fit four people of your size. But then again, Sukuna is not a normal sized person. Your hand finds the mattress, testing it's sturdiness. And when you turn around, he's right behind you. Towering over you, and forcing you to look up at him, like the king he is. But you're not scared. You have no reason to be.
''Lay down.'', he orders, but his voice doesn't sound stern. Still, you obey, climbing into the bed. And he follows, letting you ease into the pillows only for a moment, before he settles above you, urging your legs apart. You welcome him, finally feeling the closeness you've been craving for so long. His body, big enough to enclose you completely under him, so carefully pressed against yours. Light enough not to hurt, but heavy enough to establish power. To give you what you want, what you've craved for a very long time.
He never lets you forget whose grasp you're in. He folds your smaller body with ease, adjusting you to his liking. And you let him, trusting him with your body and pleasure. He takes you gently, slowly, making sure you're comfortable in the process. You feel so full of him, but it's not enough, not enough until all of your senses are overwhelmed with him. You feel up his muscled arms and back, wrap around him, pull him closer with every stroke, every swipe of his lips against yours. Sukuna draws the moans out of you with practiced thrust of his hips, hitting spots inside you you didn't know existed. In no time you're seeing stars - his four eyes, never leaving yours as you come apart.
And Sukuna is stoic for the most part, but by the end of it, even he is loosing his composure. Hungry moans slip past his lips, his brows furrowing as he concentrates, trying not to let out too soon. You encourage him, babbling sweet nonsense into his ear. This flustered Sukuna, completely engulfed in the chase of his own pleasure, is as close as you've come to seeing a god. Moments later, his hips still, and you feel his muscles tense as he reaches completion, deep grunts filling your ears like the sweetest music.
You lay in his embrace, and trace your fingertips over his tattoos. Your stare is fixed on him, as he tells you various anecdotes from his long lifetime. You enjoy the opportunity to admire his beauty from up close. His eyes, so unusually benevolent as they stare outside the window and turn to you from time to time, to check if you're awake. The curve of his nose, the glimpses of his sharp teeth, his strong, masculine jawline. He is an art piece on his own.
After a while, he notices you struggling to stay awake. His hand on the back of your head nudges you to lay on his chest. He whispers you a good night, and runs his hand through your hair as you drift off. It's been a long day you've dedicated entirely to him, so he finds you worthy of this special treatment. After all, it isn't often that someone claims the title of both Sukuna's personal dancer and his lover, much less in the same day.
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Porcelain Steve - Part 6
Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six🦇Part Seven🦇Part Eight🦇Part Nine
Even though he's expecting company, Eddie still jumps and yelps when his front door flies open without so much as a knock, revealing Dustin and Will.
"I know I said to let yourselves in, but a warning knock would have been nice," Eddie shoots them a glare, not bothering to stand from the couch where he'd been pretending to watch whatever terrible daytime movie was playing.
"Sorry," Will apologizes sheepishly while Dustin just laughs.
"Which of your moms dropped you off? If it's Claudia, I'm filing a complaint about how you were raised."
"Har har," Dustin says, swinging his backpack off and knelling down to unzip and dig into it. "We biked here."
"Lucky you, then. The complaint will wait."
Dustin wrestles a blanket from his backpack. Unwrapping it reveals Steve, hair rumpled but otherwise unharmed. "Alright. Delivered safely. We gotta go meet El and Mike now but we'll see you on Saturday, right?"
Eddie sets Steve on the couch, angled towards the TV. "Yeah. I get the feeling if I don't show for the barbeque that Joyce will show up here and drag me there by my ear."
"She would," Will confirms with an easy shrug. The boys turn to leave before Will exclaims, "Oh! Almost forgot!" before digging into his pocket for something, turning around to give it to Eddie.
"What?"
"El and Steve spoke again. He had a lot of things to say. I spent a good portion of the last three days writing down everything as El repeated it to me. This is your letter," he says, having successfully pulled out what looked to be a folded piece of paper out of his pocket.
"Oh," Eddie takes it, and realizes it's not just one folded piece of paper, but three. "Wow."
"Seems you are Steve's second favorite," Dustin grins at him from the doorway.
"You are first, I assume?"
"No. Robin is. She got five pages."
That tracks, actually. Eddie's not surprised Robin got the most pages.
Soon enough, the boys are off and Eddie returns to the couch, pulling his legs up to sit crisscross. "Alright, Stevie, let's see what you have to say."
He unfolds the pages completely and is met with Will's now familiar penmanship scrawled across the sheets of wide rule paper that has clearly been ripped from a composition notebook. He's seen Will's handwriting plenty over this last year, quickly scribbling notes during DnD sessions and on the little item cards Will makes himself to hand out when he DMs.
Will's handwriting isn't always the neatest, but this looks like Will took time, wanted his writing to be legible. Flipping through the papers he sees it is two pages, front and back, of a letter, and the third page is a list of questions in a different, neater handwriting. He gets the feeling that Will probably didn't paraphrase anything. How many people got letters? How much of Will and El's time was devoted to doing just this?
Eddie feels emotional over this, misty-eyed and a lump in his throat, and he hasn't even read the damn letter yet.
"Shit, Stevie, do you even realize how loved you are?" Eddie asks out loud, turning to look at Porcelain Steve like he might answer him this time. Blank hazel eyes stare forward. Eddie shakes his head, to clear away his thoughts, and gets to reading. Not out loud, because he doesn't want Steve to hear how wet his voice will sound.
Eddie,
I guess the first thing I want to say is thank you. I was kind of freaking out when I first woke up like this. It was calming, that day on the lawn, after Robin and Nancy found me. You were so chill and just chatted my ear off like you would have if I were, like, there. I mean, there there and not like, doll-there, if you get what I mean.
Shit, man, being stuck like this would have been a hell of a lot worse without you, I'm certain. Everyone's been great, of course, and, like, no offense meant, Will and El, but you act most normal. Helps me feel, well, I don't know how, exactly. Describing emotions is not something I'm like, good at. Robin's great, too, but she catastrophizes, you know? And since I can't speak back, she can get herself pretty worked up about this and I hate that. Hate that I can't do anything to help her.
Shit. This isn't your issue. Don't include that. No, wait, do. Sorry, El. (It is here, off in the margin, that Will has added 'I wrote everything word for word. Enjoy the asides to El and me.) Hanging out with you helps her, I think. She seems less anxious on days we spend with you. So, I guess, I also want to thank you for that. For being there for Robin when I can't.
Eddie has to pause there because he had no idea. Robin has been a grounding force for him this whole time. He had no idea he was doing the same for her. She never said, or let on... well, that was probably her goal and now Steve's spilled the beans.
This is getting easier to say, even if I still don't know how to feel about the other two people who are going to be privy to everything said, or I guess from your end, written here. (Here, Will has transcribed a conversation they seemed to have had in the middle of writing this up.)
Oh. He means us. - El
Yes. Don't worry Steve, we'll do our best to forget everything you've said once it's written down. - Will
Steve laughed and says thanks. - El
I appreciate that but- well, being honest there's some things I want to say but I don't want anyone else to hear. Those conversations are better left face to face, anyway. So, uhh, what else did I want to say?
Oh! Yeah, I told Robin she could drive around the Bimmer, so she can have a car while I'm- so she doesn't have to bike everywhere but knowing her she probably won't take me up on that offer. Maybe you can talk her into it? Or, maybe she'll be willing to drive your van around and you can take the bimmer.
"Jesus, Stevie, can't you just be okay with existing?" Eddie says it under his breath and tenses instantly. For a moment, he forgot that Steve was right there on the couch with him, could hear him. Now he has to explain himself because Steve's already heard, and without the context of how Eddie really means those words, they can sound judgmental. "Shit. Sorry. I just read the part about your car and, dude, you just don't know how to not try and be helpful, huh? I bet it's destroying you on the inside that you can't do anything. But Steve, you gotta know, we don't care about you because you're useful."
Steve, of course, can't reply, so Eddie goes back to the letter.
Uh, what else was there? Oh! Yeah! I don't get migraines here. Or, in this body? Or, whatever it is. I haven't had one since this happened. Also, no hearing issues. Though I find myself wishing to be completely deaf sometimes. I get that Max can listen to Kate Bush for a week straight, but I'd like a little variety. God, what I wouldn't give to listen to the Top 40 again. Don't say anything, Munson. I can already see your judgmental face at my music taste. Unlike you, I have the ability to like multiple types of music. The Top 40 AND that one song from, uhh, shit. Might not have migraines or hearing issues at the moment, but the memory is still as it was. Which means it is shit. That one song by that metal band where their name sounds like it's metal? You know who I mean. (In the margin, Will has just written five little question marks in a row ?????)
"The band you were thinking of, it's Metallica," Eddie says.
Not important. But, uh, the reason for telling you this. I was hoping you might smuggle me to a show the next time your band plays at the Hideout? Last time I tried to go it was too loud and gave me a migraine, you remember, but I think that I could listen to your whole show like this. We might as well take advantage of the perks of this shit situation, right? So, uh, I wouldn't mind if you did that. Or, like, had Robin or someone else bring me. Whichever.
Actually, wait, I lied, I do care which way. I've already had them pen down Robin's letter, so you'll have to pass this on, but I want Robin to take me. So, I can also watch the show, not just listen. That was the part I liked most, when I went last time, before I had to leave. Wait. Scratch that. Ask Argyle. Other than you, he seems like the only person willing to be caught holding me in public, mostly because I don't think he even knows how to be embarrassed. Jesus that was such a weird sentence to say. Holding me in public. Such a weird thing to experience, too.
Uh, anyway, I think that's it for now. Thanks for everything, Eddie.
"I think you're handling this loss of bodily autonomy rather well, Steve. This letter is a lot more positive than the one I would have written if our roles were reversed," Eddie says with a sigh. He can't help but wonder what Steve would have said in this letter if it hadn't had to be filtered through two teenagers first.
He looks to the last page, the list of questions, and is surprised to see that, mixed in with questions about which sports team is winning (he is not going to watch Sportsball for Steve. There has to be a line drawn somewhere and this is it. He will ask Wayne about it later and hate the glee he sees in his uncle's eyes because now he's going to have to pretend to like sports for the unforeseeable future) and for honest updates about their friends are questions about Eddie's campaign that he's rambled on about since Steve can't escape. Steve wants spoilers, wants to know what Eddie has planned.
Steve has actually been listening. He'd been operating on the assumption Steve just tunes him out when he gets going, unable to stop his brain to mouth filter when it comes to talking about Dungeons and Dragons and his current campaign.
"I'm at your list of questions now. I can't answer anything about sports, and don't think I'm unaware of how you asked me and not Lucas. I see what you are doing and I'm not going to fall for it. So, your first non-sportsball question here; How is Dustin doing, really? Well, that's a whole thing but overall, okay."
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During his emotionally charged speech in the van, Will says one particularly potent line.
"When you're different... You feel like... a mistake."
This line is highlighted visually by the camera shifting positions to outside of the van, a shot that is only used one other time to punctuate the end of the scene. This line holds extra weight and the show wants you to know it.
I already made an analysis on the word mistake and what that means for Will, but I want to look at the word different, which feels emphasized in the delivery of the line as well.
"When you're [pause for effect] different..."
It's popular headcanon among st fandom that "everyone in Hawkins is gay!" which sometimes bleeds from into their belief of real canon. Sexuality headcanon lists suddenly are seen with an air of truth to them, and a number of fanon queer ships are accompanied with evidence of their supposed endgame status.
I realize that this is kind of a... weird post to make. I'm not really making this to tell people to stop doing something, this is more of just a rattling off of some opinions I've had for awhile.
I do wanna start off with the obligatory: Do whatever the hell you want. I'm not here to stop you from doing something or tell you that you are wrong for thinking that a character is gay or for shipping something. You are allowed to ship whoever you want, think whatever you want about any character, any ship I don't like I have filtered. But I'm also allowed to not like these ships, or disagree with how others view certain characters. Just as others are allowed to have and express their opinion, I'm also allowed to have and state my opinions on the opinion website.
I think the important thing regarding Will being different is the fact that he is different. As my good friend @karenchildress once put it, if everyone were queer, it would cheapen the message the show is trying to give. Sure, the show displays a variety of ways of being different, but being gay is, among other things Will has been through re: being taken into the Upside Down, is Will's way of being different in Hawkins.
And of course Robin is gay as well, and while there is some crossover, the lived experiences of a gay man is different from that of a lesbian woman, which the show does touch on. Will's story is part of an extended AIDS metaphor, and Robin struggles to gain the attention of women in a world that seems to revolve around the attention of men.
It might be nice to have a moment between Will and Robin, although that alone won't solve Will's problem, i.e. his belief that being different makes him a mistake. Cause that's the thing: the resolution is that being different is a good thing.
If everyone character were queer, this would cheapen the message. Suddenly the resolution isn't that being different is a good thing, but that he isn't different after all.
So then, are queer stories meant to have only token characters?
I think it depends on the type of story, and what it's trying to say. Heartstopper has an eclectic queer cast, but it's also a show that embraces finding community and other people like you. Sex Education has a variety of different sexual identities, but it's also a show that aims to explore a lot of different perspectives.
And there are also queer stories where the queer character's disposition, and their struggle because of that, is a big part of the story. I believe this is what this show is trying to do— highlight Will's difference and how that pertains to his personal struggle and the resolution of that.
One argument that I hear against Will with powers is the idea that making him more different would be bad for his character, because he hates being different. But the thing is, Will is going to learn that his differences are a good thing, which may include any possible powers.
Of course Will isn't the only one with powers, and he also isn't the only gay one. El, Henry, and Kali all have powers, and Robin, Vickie, and Mike (and maybe Henry? I haven't seen TFS myself so I'm not commenting on that) are all gay. So while he's not alone, these things are still a rarity. It's not a case of a headcanon list with mostly everyone gay and some token straights.
"Characters are not straight by default."
This sentiment isn't unique to the st fandom and also didn't originate within this fandom, but it is something that I hear often. And it's... not really true, although it kind of depends on the piece of media we are talking about. It might be easy to say this about a show made in the 2020's, although this same sentiment is hard to state about, well, most shows made before the 2020s. And even then, it depends on what the show is going for.
People being not straight by default is a true statement in real life. You shouldn't assume a sexuality for anyone, gay, straight or what have you. But characters are made by people, and people have different biases on how these characters should be written. Calling the Duffers "two straight men" would go against what I just said, although I don't think that the show was written with everyone being gay in mind. Aside from the 4 (maybe 5) I listed, the other characters are not written to be queer. They just aren't.
All of the queer characters have arcs that feature their queerness. Will's queerness has been mentioned since season one. Robin's romance becomes part of her plot in season 4, and Vickie is introduced as her love interest. Romance has always been an important facet of Mike's story since season one, and his failure in a straight romance is highlighted in seasons three and four. Chekhov's painting of season 4 seems to solidify a gay Mike.
Elmax and Ronance as endgame options not only have no lead up but are also mean spirited towards Lucas and Vickie. Elmax gets together, breaking up Lumax, which has been built up since season two, and Lucas is supposed to be okay with this because????? Ronance get's together, effectively writing off a queer character that the show had introduced, and she can't even fulfill the reason she exists in the first place? Rockie is not the most well developed relationship out there, but it's the one that the show has decided to go for. Maybe Ronance could work, in an alternate universe where the show actually wrote that in.
For those that argue that both Max and Nancy are queer I simply... disagree. And you can disagree with me too, we'll both just agree to disagree. I'm not against headcanons, which are usually harmless, but also usually driven by the desires of the headcanon-er and less so the canon of the show. Which again, is fine, but it's also these headcanons which are being used to drive an argument for actual show canon. Usually the argument for any character being queer that wasn't already listed in canon rests solely on vibes, not any concrete evidence that may suggest actual attraction to the same sex.
More substantial evidence usually comes when someone applies a queer lens to a certain character, but an interpretation can be different from authorial intent. And sometimes, the viewer may be so focused on the metaphorical, that they fail to see the literal.
I do think that you could easily apply a queer lens to El's story. Her story is about, in her words, "not belonging," in society, having to remain in hiding, and deviating from feminine norms. I can easily see how you can derive a queer message from this, but all of the traits listed above are a result of her having powers and being raised in a lab, not being attracted to the same sex. Metaphor alone cannot prove that she likes girls.
Going back to Nancy, Nancy's romantic options are between Jonathan and Steve, although the show seems to make it clear that it's going with Jonathan in the end, what with Jancy holding hands at the end of season 4. Steve get's brought up in conversation between the two, alluding two some unresolved tension that's likely to be brought up in season 5, and Robin is... at the high school with Vickie. That is the end of the season establishing the arcs and romances for the final season.
"Gay people didn't exist in the 80's."
That's an argument on the opposite end of things that just isn't true, although I've also heard the counter for this argument, that gay people did in fact exist in the 80's, as evidence that everyone is gay. I'm not really here to argue whether or not gay people existed in the 80's (they did) I'm just here to argue what I think the canon of the show is presenting.
That being said, the show taking place in the 80's is still significant. It may not be a hyperrealistic depiction of the 80's, but the show does seem to understand the idea that at that time, it was very difficult for gay people come out and to start relationships. It's the reason that Robin can't just go up to Vickie and ask her out, and it's the reason that Will can't just say that the painting is from him. It's the reason why Mike hasn't quite yet left his relationship with El and accepted himself. It's the reason why Rockie has to discreetly flirt through peanut butter sandwiches. A character who hasn't had queerness built into their plot, or a relationship that has no buildup, isn't suddenly going to become canon in the last season.
I was talking about this once with a friend who used the show Only Murders in the Building as an example. In the shows second season, Selena Gomez's character is revealed to be bisexual and dates a character that Cara Delevingne plays for most of the season. The show doesn't build up to her character being bisexual, she doesn't come out as such, the other characters don't make a big deal out of it, she just is. So why can this show do something like that but Stranger Things can't?
Well, Only Murders is a show that takes place in present day, and is a light-hearted comedy (albeit with murder). A character suddenly being bisexual with no set up makes sense for the tone that the show has established and when it takes place. Stranger Things takes place in the 80's and establishes within it's first season and maintains it throughout that gay people get killed and are seen as social pariahs.
It's not that I don't understand where the desire to have more characters be queer comes from, especially characters that people already like and relate to. I don't think it's harmful to think that these characters are queer, I'm making an argument purely with regard to authorial intent and the actual outcome of the show. Again, feel free to disagree with me and continue to do whatever you want, these are just some thoughts that I have had on my mind for a while and wanted to put out.
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