#in scenarios where the audience would not be able to tell | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kenjakusbraincum · 1 year ago

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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.

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fluff #sukuna fluff #soft sukuna #sukuna x you #see i love ballet. i even know a little bit about ballet #but WRITING ABOUT IT?? HELLLLLP #i just didnt know how to incorporate terms specific to it so everything is super vague #tons of dialogue in this one too!!#and the first fic i write where sukuna genuinely considers reader to be his equal and not a subhuman pet lol #it was fun to consider how he would act with someone like that #the dining scenes and the whole courtship thing? 100% inspired by hannibal.#dont ask me about it or i will write an essya

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harukyuu2 · 16 days ago

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hello hello could I request for an Ivantill x Gn!reader (poly) who’s like so drop-dead gorgeous but like they’re sensitive when people try manipulate them and then Reader has to sing against Luka and Both Till and Ivan are lwk worried for reader

So when the round starts reader seems to keep moving away from Luka’s presence appearing very uncomfortable but Luka just keeps following them and getting into their personal space like grabbing their waist and moving closer to them, now making reader more distraught and feel worried. Then there’s this one specific moment where Luka started to imitate Till/Ivan keeping reader in a daze and Luka seeing this starts to manipulate reader by holding the sides of their face closer as if taunting reader but luckily reader was able to snap out of this and moved away and started to sing again.

Till and Ivan very obviously saw this and feel concerned for reader and the round ended up being in a tie so reader survived and Ivantill go rush to comfort reader who’s still kinda shaken

Ivan and Till are basically happy reader survived lmao

THIS IS KINDA LONG IM SORRY

HII ANOONNN no worries!! i loved the request and the fact that its long gives me a good idea for the scenario, anywayss hope you like it <3

Our little crybaby !! - IvanTill x Reader

!! - Fluff, some angst moments, comfort, neutral reader, three parts of the story!! before, into, and after the round <3 - the after of the round could be a little cringy...IM SORRY, reader is really sensitive

two hours before the round...

"I-im alright..!" - You said with a twitching smile while your voice breaked, telling a whole different story to the two guys in front of you "No, youre not..." - Till murmurs with a sigh while Ivan tries to reassure you by caressing your arms The two guys you loved the most were in front of you, trying to help you overcome this. It was gonna be a harsh round since your opponent was Luka, the ruler of the stage. Even if you had a beautiful voice and face— making lots of aliens like you, those two understanded very well how sensitive you can be, a very big problem against Luka, who knows very well how to manipulate the emotions of his opponents while being subtle. You kept trying to reassure them over and over, saying you'd come back and things would go back to your usual cuddle sessions and those relaxing moments together. But when the guards grabbed your arm to get you ready for the round, the last thing you saw was a hint of concern on their faces. Now, you're not even sure if you or they ever believed your own words... Make your bets for the round, aliens!! The start of the music was slow, enough time for Luka and you to wave at the public and grab your microphones, even if you tried keeping your distance from the blonde guy— the way he smiled to you, so gently and terrifying at the same time, made you know that he was up to something already, the paranoia starting to eat you alive slowly as the rhythm of the song went in.

Already feeling a little shaken by that, you tried to calm yourself with a deep breath before opening the song with your voice, giving your all already for the start to keep the eyes of the aliens on you But Luka is quick one when it comes to stealing glances, already set on invading your personal space. Instead of using his microphone to sing his first line, he pushes you against his chest, wrapping an arm around your waist to trap you, while his other hand intertwines with yours, bringing your microphone to his lips.

Starting to get a little busy and focused on trying to survive against the man in front of you, the audience started to blur from your eyes. Not noticing the two persons watching all this scene, Till and Ivan— who are not only concerned for you, but also hating the man on your side While Ivan kept a neutral expression, the way he pressed his hands together said otherwise—he wasnt neutral about it. While Till? was a lot more expressive of his disgust for Luka, remember his guitar named Freddie? he regrets destroying it against the floor. It should had been Luka's head in this moment The round keeps going, no matter how many times you tried to escape from Luka's hands, he always gets a way to lean closer to you without losing points. You leave a shaky breath, feeling overwhelmed but still trying your best to keep your voice at the best it can give. You couldnt keep eye contact with him, not when he was murdering you with his eyes— yet he always made your gazes encounter, waiting for you to fold into him, to embrace your death sooner or later The ocean of lightsticks in front of you shone almost identically in both your colors, making it hard to tell them apart—and Luka didnt like that. He could tell you were sensitive. Your eyes were already glossy from just a few light touches on your arms, keeping you from singing. He guided your movements by gripping your waist, stealing small flinches from you, and the lack of distance made you visibly nervous—it was all too easy. The only challenge for him was that your vocals and beauty could easily rival his. But if he managed to make you fold… then you werent gonna be a worthy opponent. The bridge of the song was coming, a part where the public had to sing more than you two if they were hyped— and so they did. Luka took advantage of this moment to once again, come closer to you. But his gentle smile, that gentle smile that still showed some fiery stuborness remembered you of no one else than Ivan. You leaved a shaky breath trying to lean back, but Luka is quick— quick to pass an arm around you, almost ghosting the small of your back but still giving you the sensation he was there. Just like Till usually hugs you since he is still kinda embarassed of physical affection

Luka was imitating them so well that your breath got caught in your throat, your chest tightening as your vision blurred. Was it even worth trying to keep fighting? Luka was clearly winning against you—what a worthless human you were to your guardian. His hand traveled up your neck, forcing you to look up, giving your throat a slight squeeze before making you face the lightsticks you had been ignoring. The color that represented you was slowly fading into Luka’s one...

Still on a daze thinking you should just let Luka win because it wasnt worth fighting against a ruler of the stage, a little conmotion taked you out of it. Seeing the capsules where the other participants were watching, you noticed Till just punching the thing trying to call your attention, the desperation in his face was very noticeable— he was really concerned on how the round was going. Turning your gaze slightly, you also saw Ivan—he seemed calmer, or at least pretended to be. But the lack of a smile and his sharp, unwavering stare at the stage told you clearly that he wasnt liking what he was seeing. Those two were so worried about you, they couldnt lose you— they craved for you to continue fighting, to come again at their arms once this is over

Luka noticed where your empty gaze had drifted and quickly turned you to face him, cupping your face close to his. You could feel his breath as he sang so gently, almost as if he wasnt threatening you with his eyes. But it was too late for that—he had already hurt you too much. Your chest ached, your vision was still blurry, and sweat clung to your back, yet, because of them, you pushed him away again.

In the final minutes of the song, your light returned—stealing the spotlight from Luka. The audience erupted, the aliens hyping you up as you blinded anyone who dared look at you directly. A fleeting sense of relief settled in Till and Ivan, but it didnt last long. The song wasnt over yet, and you still had to recover the points you had lost

Luka wasnt going down, though. He kept singing by your side, his expression more serious now that his plan hadnt worked as expected. Still, he found amusement in your desperation—you were running out of time to regain points.

But you refused to give in. You raised your voice, stealing moments from him. The hologram displaying the scores began to glitch as the numbers between you two kept shifting nonstop. Sweat trickled down your forehead, yet surrendering wasnt an option—you had promised you were fine, hadn't you?

The song closed with a high note where you managed to surpass Luka in, he looked at you with widen eyes. Catching your breath, Luka just stayed in silence— the song ended and the only sound was the cheers of the Aliens, but neither of you two were shooted yet. Looking afraid at the score while the public screamed, you see the result: Its a tie. After The Round...

Sitting alone in a dark room, you were waiting for your guardian to come for you. Still catching your breath, you could feel the sweat sticking to your skin, making you uncomfortable. Hugging your knees, you couldnt breathe through your nose—the panic from the round still lingered, making your heart race. Your eyes were a little glossy from the small tears threatening to fall. You had survived, but that lingering fear Luka had left in you wasnt going away. Your mind was blank, the only thing you felt was a white noise that you arent sure if its because your ears possibly got hurted from the loud sounds in the stage. Your attention traveled to the door being opened letting some light enter the dark room, it wasnt your alien but instead those two. In other circumstances you would had smiled, but all you could do is hug your knees tighter while averting your gaze from them—moments ago you were about to just let yourself die without fighting even if you had two persons that cared lots for you outside of the stage. Did you deserve a praise for winning? You had to apologize? you had to plead them for forgiveness? you werent sure. But they didnt ask you for nothing of that, how could them? It was stupid from you to think that. Instead, they sitted each one on your side and leaved you securely in the middle of them. The first one to make an action as always, was Ivan— who decided to move a strand of your hair that was sticked by the sweat of your forehead behind your ear. "You feeling good..?" - Ivan asked looking at you, at the clear shake of your head that you gived him he leaved a small laugh - "Yeah, I supossed it." You looked at him curiously. He was giving you such a gentle smile that it left you a little confused about what he was thinking. Ivan had always been unpredictable, but that was part of what attracted you to him. Still, you couldnt help but raise an eyebrow when he suddenly looked at you playfully, before saying simple yet confusing words "Now, now Till! youre taking pretty long from what we planned..." - You blinked confused until you realized he wasnt looking at you— but instead at the huffing guy at you side. Receiving a quick kiss on the cheek, you turned to see Till— even in the darkness of the room, you could notice the redness in his face and how he averted his gaze embarassed "See! it was easy" - Ivan says playfully while seeing you two be embarassed of simple actions, Till huffs again looking at Ivan "Shut up for a moment!" - Till returned his gaze to you after that, hesitating for a moment before cupping your cheeks and slowly stroking them even if he was pretty nervous of doing those interactions still. He wanted to reassure you, to bring you back to reality after all the pressure you probably felt on the stage "You were great back there, you can rest for now...I'll do my best to hold you." - Till whispered like a sweet melody pressing his forehead against yours, reassuring you that he was there for you You felt Ivan hugging you from behind while Till continued to caress your cheeks, pressing his forehead against yours. It felt warm—it felt right. The knot in your throat, which had been there for a while, finally snapped. It had been threatening to make you sick, but instead, it came out in tears. It didnt matter—you werent ashamed of crying with them. After all, even if you were gorgeous and your voice could almost rival Luka’s vocals, you were still a crybaby. Their crybaby, the one they’d reassure anytime it was needed.

#Ivan x reader #alnst ivan x reader #alnst x reader #alien stage x reader #alien stage #alnst #alnst ivan #alnst till #till x reader #alnst till x reader #Ivantill x reader #ivantill

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ghostboneswrites2 · 10 months ago

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Safer

Summary: After the fall of the prison and a brutal assault, Daryl cares for you.

NOTE (please read): A mutual requested this a while ago. Took a long while to write, and tbh I considered turning the req down given the premise and my firm stance on writing graphic SA which you can find here. However, they explained to me that they are a victim of a violent s*xual assault, and they expressed it would be healing in a way to have a story where they were cared for by their comfort character. After some consideration, I decided to go for it. I'm sure a lot of us have been victimized by people who couldn't control their urges, or those who lacked respect for our boundaries, bodies, and consent. Myself included. So, this story is for us, to those of us that can stomach it.

DISCLAIMER: There are no scenes of graphic SA, only the aftermath. While I will not be telling any descriptive scenarios of being assaulted, I do want to clearly express that this is a generally heavy story and it may not be suitable for all audiences. Please consume responsibly.

**I will not be tagging anyone on the taglist due to the content of this story**

18+MDNI || WARNINGS: non-graphic allusions to SA, violence, mild nudity descriptions, generally heavy content so I can't say it enough: TW!!!

Banners credited on my masterlist!!

Daryl's vision was blurred as he blinked himself to consciousness. It took him some time to gather his thoughts and recognize his surroundings. His wrists and ankles were bound together, his mouth gagged with a cloth that tasted of sweat and filth. He stared up at the treetops towering over him. It was dark outside, save for the dim light of a dying campfire a few feet away. He lifted his head from the forest floor and looked down past his feet. Lumps of sleeping bodies under raggedy blankets and torn sleeping bags rested around him. His heart raced as his memories crept back in; of you, screaming his name, of him fighting off the group of men who caught him off guard, of twigs snapping and a searing pain over the side of his head. Was that why his face felt so sticky? Was it dried blood?

His eyes strained in the fading light of ember and ash. Where were you? He noticed a crumpled form at the foot of a tree. Her breathing was shallow and her clothes were torn, pants not even pulled up over her bare behind. That much, he could see. His throat tightened. His eyes watered. What the hell had he let them do to you? How could he have let this happen? He had to get you out of there, and fast. If they hadn't killed him yet, that was surely on their agenda.

He began to squirm and writhe against his restraints. Whoever tied him up had experience. Just as hopelessness began to set in and cloud his judgement with fear -- real, genuine fear -- he noticed a reflection in the leaves. Just a few feet past his boots, a man was curled up on his side, snoring lightly in the calm breeze. His back was turned to Daryl, and behind him set a grungy backpack with a blade sticking out of the smallest pocket in the front. He glanced back to you, shivering on the ground, unsure if you were awake or unconscious or simply passed out from the exhaustion of prior events.

The sight of you in your disheveled mess was all her needed to kick him into gear. Carefully and hastily, he scooted himself down toward his only chance at redeeming his status as a loyal protector of the weak and vulnerable. Ideally, he'd be able to accomplish this in silence, but he was not in an ideal situation. His circumstances were heavy, laced in sweat and angst. The leaves beneath him rustled as his back slid across the ground, twigs snapping or moving to the side as he made his way closer to the large hunting knife. He'd pause between each scoot, studying the sleeping men around him for any sign of movement or wakefulness. When he'd decide the coast was clear enough, he'd resume. It felt like an eternity, but he made it there.

His core muscles strained as he sat himself up. He realized how sore he was. He must have taken a good beating. Seemed fitting, though. He was never one to go down without a fight. He left that sort of weakness in his past.

He guided his shaky, bound hands over to the bag. He slowly slid the knife out of the front pocket. His heart raged against his ribs. He didn't dare take a single breath until it was secured.

Slow. Slowness. Slowly. He repeated every variation of the word in his mind as he positioned the knife between his palms and dragged it back and forth until the rope finally severed. A silent breath of relief escaped him as he ripped the gag from his lips and worked on the rope tied around his ankles. When he was free, he stood and counted the sleeping bodies beneath him. Excluding you, there were four.

He considered waking you up and running for the hills, but he couldn't leave any loose ends. No, he thought of it like when your t-shirt has a loose thread. You could leave it to keep unraveling, or you could burn it at the base and extend the lifetime of your clothes. He decided he needed to burn this string before it could unravel any further.

Starting with the man closest to him -- the one who so graciously left his knife in plain sight for the archer -- he krept over and crouched down, plunching the blade into the base of his skull. Then, he moved on to the next, and the next one, and the one after that, until they were all a problem of the past. Until that pesky little thread could do no further damage to the rest of the shirt.

When the dirty work was behind him, he dropped the knife and rushed over to you. Your wrists were tied like his, but you were tied to the tree so you couldn't run. He eyed you over and gulped. With your pants not fully covering you and your shirt all ripped up, he could see the finger-shaped bruises littering your skin. There was blood on your inner thighs. Your lips were swollen and cut. His blood heated until it hit a boiling point. His hands trembled as they hovered over you. Touching you felt like a crime, but he had to wake you. He had to get you out of there.

"(Y/N)." He whispered as he laid a hand on your shoulder. You were shivering in the cool air, but a thin layer of sweat blanketed your exposed flesh. He gave you a gentle shake. "((Y/N), c'mon. We gotta go." He pleaded softly.

Your body jerked and you jolted awake. You gave him no chance to explain as you scrambled to your knees and cowered away against the tree.

"(Y/N) it's me. It's Daryl." He attempted his most soothing tone of voice. "C'mon, let me get ya cleaned up."

He outstretched his arm, offering you his hand. Without making eye contact you made a move to take it, but you were stopped by the restricting force of the rope that kept you anchored to the tree trunk. He moved quickly for the knife he tossed to the side earlier and returned with it. Without the pressure of remaining silent, he had your hands free in seconds.

He wasted no time helping you to your feet and averting his gaze as he slid your pants up where they belonged. He found he had a hard time keeping his mind straight and focused as your weeping filled the quiet campsite.

"Shh.." He cooed, keeping one hand on your upper back as he ushered you along with him to gather his things and yours. A smart man would have rummaged through the belongings of the ones he killed, too, but he wasn't concerned with making a smart call at that point. He was only worried about you.

"It's alright. C'mon. Let's get ya somewhere you can rest. It's alright. C'mon." He felt useless as ever, repeating the same generic words of comfort as you limped along beside him. He never urged you to up the pace, he didn't drag you along or have you carry your own bag. He felt like the least he could do was shoulder the weight of survival on behalf of you both. He couldn't get the image out of his mind of ou laying there,caked in blood, sweat, and bruises. A girl like you should have been caked in perfume and makeup. You hair should have been done up nice for a Sunday brunch, not matted with leaves and dirt. Your clothes should have been pristine and well fitting, unlike the filthy torn clothes that were beginning to hang off your frame like tender meat falling from the bone. You didn't deserve this. You didn't deserve any of it.

Eventually he found an acceptable spot that looked like it could have been a den for a hibernating bear. It was a big shrub by a little stream, perfectly indented to give you both enough room to crouch under its foliage. He gently set you down, dropping his bow and your bags beside him. He crouched down in front of you and scanned you, worry written articulately over his features.

Your eyes remained glued to the ground. Your nose was upturned in disgust but your eyes told a different story; one of pain and despair and mourning for the person you were before that night. Your frown was deep enough to leave a scar.

"(Y/N)..." He breathed. Your eyes slowly found their way to his and welled with tears all over again. Of all things you had -- meaning, being alive and away from those men -- there was nothing you were more grateful for than his blue eyes staring back at you. You hated the way he looked at you with defeat and pity, though. You hated that he had one more thing to worry about. Still, he was there, and he was welcome. "Let's get ya cleaned up, okay?"

You nodded once, if absentmindedly. Your thoughts were elsewhere. You couldn't pinpoint their location, though. They were scrambled, swarming all around you, like gnats you couldn't swat away.

He pulled an old shirt from his bag and leaned over to the stream, getting it nice and wet before wringing it out. He turned back to you and brought it up to your cheek, gently dabbing and swiping away at the dirt, grime, sweat, and blood. He moved on to your neck and hands, then he paused. You both looked down at your jeans. You knew it needed to be taken care of, and he did too, but the question was really about which one of you would be brave enough to work on the gruesome scene between your legs.

One look at your expression and he knew it couldn't be you. But, how could it be him? He couldn't put you in such a vulnerable position. No, not him.

That's when the lightbulb went off over his head. The stream, of course.

"Here." He offered you a hand. You took it slowly and he led you to your feet. "Wanna get in the water?" He asked. You stared down at the serene flowing water, trickling just before your feet. He cleared his throat. "I don't gotta look."

You almost could have laughed. After everything that had happened, Daryl seeing you bathe wasn't really a concern. Still, you had to maintain some shred of dignity, and washing those men off of you was a much needed stride toward leaving that horrid night in your past. So, you nodded, and he turned away to start a fire where you could warm up after rinsing off.

The button was busted off of your jeans. You guessed they couldn't waste their time with something as simple as undoing a button. You let out a shaky sigh and gritted your teeth. You moved to bend over and slide your jeans down, but a searing pain shot through your insides. You whimpered. "I can't." You barely managed.

"Huh?" He asked over his shoulder.

"I can't." You spoke up with a tremble. "I can't get them off. It hurts."

His throat tightened up. Had they really been so cruel to you?

"Ya want me to..." He trailed off.

"Please." You whispered and shut your eyes. He stood beside you and pulled your pants down to your ankles, kneeling down as he did so.

"Grab my shoulder." He instructed softly. You did. "Left leg." He said. You pulled it out. "Now the right."

With your jeans off, he stood up and looked down at your face, which you his from him, avoiding his gaze.

"Your -- Uh.." He glanced down at your underwear. You nodded, not needing to see what he meant. He followed the same process with those and turned away as soon as he was done. You cleared your throat.

"Can you help me sit?" You whispered. He sucked in a breath. It wasn't that you were annoying him. Anything but that, actually. He was glad to help you in any way you needed. It was the simple fact that you needed the help that was eating him alive. The thought that those guys could hurt you in this way, to this extent, was infuriating and heartbreaking.

He turned back to you and hovered behind you, placing a hand under each arm to support you while you lowered yourself down into the water. Once you were sitting on the creek bed, you adjusted yourself and sighed.

"Just, uh, watch for snakes, okay?" Was all he could say before turning his attention back to the fire finally.

Your frown deepened as you stared down at your bloodied thighs. A plop beside you startled you before realizing it was just the old shirt he was using to clean you up.

"Figured ya might need it." He mumbled.

You gripped the cloth in your hand and stared at it. Blood and filth stained it. Your lip quivered as you ran it over your inner thighs, scrubbing your own dried blood away and watching it disappear in the gentle current. You hissed and winced as you cleaned yourself where you were really injured.

When you were done, you peered over your shoulder, where Daryl stared at the small flame. He felt your eyes on him and he looked up at you.

"Need some clothes?" He asked.

"Please." You replied. He nodded once and rummaged through your bag. He could only find a semi-clean shirt, but no more pants. He pulled his own bag forward and searched for the new two-pack of boxers he'd scavenged awhile back.

"I, uh, didn't see no more pants, but... You can have those." He said, holding your shirt and the fresh boxers out to you.

"Thanks." You pressed your lips into a thin attempt at a friendly smile.

He turned away again so you could change your shirt, but you needed his help with the boxers, which he did without you needing to ask, and without a single peek at you.

He helped you back over to the den where you could warm up by the fire. You kept the blanket in your bag, so he made sure to wrap it around your shoulders while you sat.

"Ain't got no food." He broke the silence after a little while. You nodded.

"Not hungry anyways."

"Mm." He hummed. "Get some sleep. I'll keep watch."

----

By midday, you were on the move again, trailing right behind him as he stomped slowly over the underbrush so you could keep his pace. He'd stop every now and then, and though he didn't say it, you knew it was because he didn't want to overwork you.

By late afternoon, the sun was on the far end of the sky, casting an orange glow over the woods.

Daryl had barely been able to look at you, and you couldn't exactly claim any different. You two had taken a break again, sipping water and scanning around for any game or edible plants.

"I want ya to know.." He cleared his throat, shattering the thick silence that glazed over you both all day. "I want ya to know I didn't see it. None of it."

"I know you weren't looking." You deadpanned.

"Nah, not at the stream. I meant -- I didn't see none of it." He clarified. He had a sneaking suspicion the reason you couldn't bare to look at him might have been the possibility of him seeing what had happened to you. He, however, just hated seeing you look so broken, knowing had he been more vigilant yesterday, none of those guys would have been able to sneak up on him. You looked at him finally.

"I know. They hit you over the head 'cause you were fighting them."

"Mm." He nodded. "I just... I need to tell ya I'm sorry." His voice cracked as he looked down at his hands and back up to you. His leg was bouncing anxiously and his gums must have bled from how hard he chewed at them.

"Why?" You pushed your eyebrows together.

"I shoulda been lookin' out. Shoulda protected ya. Shoulda--"

"You were. You have been." You cut him off. "You've looked out for me every day since the prison. You've been protecting me since the quarry. You protect everyone. That wasn't your fault." You insisted. He just looked back down at his hands and sniffled, blinking back tears. He scolded himself for being the one to cry, when you were the one who got hurt. "Hey." You pressed on. "Listen to me. You got us out of there. You took care of them. You saved me. Then, you still took care of me. If we were still back there, they would have killed you and robbed you by now. And, if they hadn't killed me yet, I'd be wishing I was dead. I wouldn't be here without you. I would have never survived even before last night without you, and I wouldn't be sitting here telling you that today if it weren't for you."

He looked you in the eyes as you spoke every word. It was a great relief to him that you weren't angry with him -- that you didn't blame him. Still, he felt so uneasy.

"Can we camp here?" You asked suddenly. He shrugged.

"Yeah. We can." He agreed. His voice was still broken.

"Can I sit with you?" You asked. He looked confused but he still nodded, even if he was unsure what you meant.

Ignoring the aches all over your body, you crawled over to him and sat in front of him, between his legs, leaning your back against his torso. He was stiff, unused to being so close to someone, but he didn't resist. As you settled in and got comfortable, he rested his arms by your sides.

"You didn't fail me, Daryl. Nobody makes me feel safer."

Join the taglist || Masterlist

#tw: implied abuse #tw: implied sa #daryl dixon #daryl x reader #daryl x female reader #daryl x you #daryl x y/n

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allfearstofallto · 8 months ago

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(Writing more about my OC cause I have a problem, mostly his backstory though!!)

Yandere! Male OC x Reader

Yuri used to be a knight. Although, that was a long time ago. Very few people know about it and even less are willing to ask him for details, if they do he shushes them with a gentle smile and calmly changes the conversation. He'd rather not go into the details. But the subtle change in his eyes says that it's a rather sensitive subject.

He was immediately born into hardships. Terrible eyesight and poverty, it wasn't long before he lost his parents, becoming an orphan wandering the streets. There were few places he could go without schooling and schooling he couldn't afford without a job, it was a viscous cycle. Becoming a knight was his last choice and the only thing that turned out right for him.

The white haired man was known for his brutality, for his lack of care and empathy on the battle field, for his efficiency and ability to get things done quickly. So much so that he was recognized by the king himself. His highness welcomed Yuri up for an audience and offered the man whatever he desired, he deserved it for all the work he'd done for the country.

Yuri answered without a beat, "I wish to be discharged."

Muttering filled the room, immediately silenced by the raising of the king's hand. If that's what he wanted, them so be it. Yuri was honorably discharged and allowed to leave the knights without being considered a defector. His pension was small, but it was something, it was a start, and it'd keep him from going back to the streets.

He thought he'd be once again in a scenario where he was desperate for work, but so much wasn't the case. Almost immediately after his audience, he was greeted by your father. An older gentleman, his hair greying from age and stress, he immediately asked for Yuri to work for him, and for a pretty penny at that.

Initially, Yuri thought he was being hired for mercenary work, a line that he truthfully didn't want to get into. But instead he stepped into a carriage and was taken to a place he'd never been before, a place he didn't think he'd have the opportunity to go to: school. A training school for butlers in specific.

He expected to live his life in servitude of the sword, only to instead be living it in service of another. At times, his training to be an acceptable butler was harder than basic training for the military, but he was being paid to be here and his schooling was paid for as well, he couldn't abandon the job.

Six months passed and he was finally able to meet you, his lady. You were not to know of his past, the idea of how much blood he'd previously had on his hands would frighten you, your father was sure of it, but Yuri was still to keep his sword close. He chuckled at the thought, realizing just what he was being used for, not just a butler, but a bodyguard as well. A personal knight without all the formalities, with all the work your father put into him, his loyalties were surely only going to lie with you.

You greeted him the day after your birthday, the only daughter of the Duke, it was obviously they spent a fortune on your etiquette classes, not a single thing was off about the way you introduced yourself to him. As much as he wished in hindsight that it was love at first sight, that he fell for you upon seeing you on that very first fateful day, that wasn't the case.

It took months before Yuri viewed you as more than his employer, something that seemed to upset you. He could tell you wanted to be closer to him, and the way you smiled, laughed, and even playful begged broke down his walls. He found himself doing more than working for you, serving your tea, arranging your clothes, and planning your schedule, he found himself doting on you.

So when you watched as he placed a few light snacks in front of you, your eyes lingering on his fingers and specifically the large amount of callouses he had on them, he knew you were going to ask.

And ask you did, oh so sweetly, "Why are your hands so rough, Yuri?"

He merely chuckled as he continued to serve you. He'd never tell you that his hands had killed, that he knew the grip of a sword better than he knew how to hold a teapot. He'd never tell you who he was before, it was the life he left behind after all. The him you knew now was all you needed to know, and he loved you far too much for you to look at him differently.

"I supposed I don't take good care of them, my lady," he answered smoothly, quickly changing the subject before you had the chance to ask anything more, "I heard the tailor will be coming soon. Why don't you tell me what you're planning to have made?"

#maiistalking<3 #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere oc #male yandere #yandere male #yandere aesthetic #yandere imagines #yandere character #yandere #original character #original work

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anxietycheesecake · 2 months ago

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The lack of media literacy in this fandom is wild.

They basically said 'in your wildest dreams, here's a scenario that could have been the ending. And to highlight just how much this couldn't or didn't happen, here are two other endings that couldn't possibly happen' and people somehow came to the conclusion that this scene was remotely canon when it was the exact opposite.

It was imperative to somebody that the show fully clarifies that Nandor and Guillermo do not and will not fuck. They need the audience to know that and The Guide was once again used as a wedge to drive home that Nandor and Guillermo are platonic and only platonic. Nandor finds The Guide physically attractive and is romantically attracted. Whether his motivations are selfish and would fizzle upon realization is irrelevant because it's canon that he is into her and if you drew a venn diagram with his feelings for The Guide and Guillermo, there would be little overlap. That was the entire purpose of Guidmor this season and nearly the only purpose The Guide served. Friends, best friends, partners, in love with The Guide - they are circling this shit with a bright red marker.

And yeah, much of the direction they've taken on Nandor and Guillermo's relationship and taking jabs at shippers is because the fanart, fanfic, and general shipping made Simms uncomfortable and I'll die on that hill. The 'ick' is palpable in every one of those interviews where he says it wouldn't be profound enough, 'do people really want to see that? Really?' or that it would be problematic. They literally pivoted in the aftermath of season 3 and 4 because of the reception.

Tell me that in a world without social media, in a world where they didn't see how fans reacted, Nandor and Guillermo's relationship would have played out as it did. Tell me that it was in good faith and not damage control. Tell me they didn't want to kill that narrative while not losing viewership.

Tell me that this isn't the very manifestation of queer content being fun until it's more than a joke.

It's actually okay to be hurt if you create fan content and it makes a homophobic person uncomfortable, instead of telling yourself that couldn't possibly be how a showrunner, writer, or company really feels about something you care about and have invested in. It's a hard, shitty thing, especially when they dangled that ship to the point of using 'Nandermo' in promotional material. It's okay for others to be upset by this and have a myriad of personal or impersonal reasons for being offended, sad, angry. Our reaction isn't an attack on fans who are satisfied, and you don't have to rationalize an ugly truth when somebody is in the wrong and hurting real people. Simms is the one in a position of power here, not fans on Tumblr. He can absolutely steamroll the writers and actors on this if he wants to, and it can be seen in interviews, such as the one with Stefani. As I said in my previous ask, Harvey is a real gay person who has to smile and nod while his boss repeatedly uses these talking points to delegitimize gay relationships right in front of him like we're in the early 2000s.

Fuck that shit. This conduct is appalling and you have every right to be disgusted.

Thank you so much, bestie, the gaslighting got me thinking I was insane. Like good for people who are satisfied, but I think you should be able to see the whole picture beyond your own feelings. If nandermo had gone canon and everything else was the exact same, I'd complain about the lack of proper development and closure for everyone else, while being ecstatic for my beloved blorbos. Because you can aknowledge when shitty things happen even if you personally find them gratifying.

#wwdits #nandermo #wwdits spoilers #wwdits negativity #discourse

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starlight-bread-blog · 8 days ago

Text

Okay I'm gonna go full conspiracy, but some of y'all are way worse so I'm doing this. Listen up. Will Byers and Mike Wheeler are fictional characters. Meaning, that everything they do, everything they think and yes, everything they feel has a purpose. So let's look at the facts as they are. Mike couldn't tell El that he loves her, and Will is in love with Mike. Right off the bat, with Will, this fact could lead to two things:

Mike is also in love with Will, and there will be a love triangle with Mike in the middle.

Mike is not in love with Will, and Will will either end up alone, or die, or find another queer boy to love.

With scenario 1, everything is fine. But although on paper, scenario 2 makes sense, we should take into account that everything that Will feels is a carefully thought out decision.

Let's remember the themes and the message of Stranger Things. This show is about the freaks of society, the losers, the outcasts. How people may l give them the side eye, but they have each other. And they'll stand by each other no matter what. So, how does this relate to Will and Mike? Will is a gay boy in the 80s, which not only makes him an outcast, but an outright freak in the eyes of the public. It would go against Stranger Things' message to write a freak trying to find love in his best friend, the one who's supposed to be by his side forever, and having him rejected. In real life, this would not be a problem. If someone is straight, they're straight. But in fiction, the sexuality and or love interest of a character is again, a choice with ramification on the quality of the story. And writing Will, a "freak", having his heart broken by someone who he considered another freak, when you're telling a story about how freaks empower each other by sticking together, is not a smart writing decision.

(There is also the matter of the van scene, where Will's supposedly unrequited feelings are being used to repair El and Mike's relationship, as Will cries over not being able to be with Mike. In other words, if Mike isn't in love with Will, the outcast's suffering is used to fix what's more socially acceptable. Do you see the problem? I don't know how many times I'm going to repeat myself in this post, and I hope it's not getting annoying, but I need to make this as crystal clear as possible: Fiction is not real life. In real life, a gay boy could use some words of affirmation regardless of how they feel, it's just being nice. But in fiction, you have a job to do. You have a story to tell. You have a message you want to put out into the world. And this scene is not compatible with the message).

But let's look at Mike. In season 4, El confronts Mike about him not telling her that he loves her. And throughout that whole scene, not even once, does he just say that he loves her. In the end he does, but the reason as to why he stopped saying it, or why he didn't say it when she confronted him, is never explained. In real life, it's okay if Mike wants to deal with whatever he feels and the reasons behind it with himself. But this is not real life, this was deliberately written to be understood by an audience. It was written to serve a purpose. Mike not being able to tell El that he loves her was a serious conflict in season 4, and the cause behind it is left unknown. This is bad writing, plain and simple. Unless, there is some other factor we are not yet aware of. Unless, he could possibly have feelings for someone else. Maybe that someone is Will.

With that theory in mind, remember when Will and Mike met after a long time of not seeing each other? Will was gonna hug Mike, but Mike just went for a fist bump. There was a very awkward atmosphere in that moment. Why would there be? Once again, I'm not talking about real life. In real life, it could just be awkward because they haven't talked to each other in a while and Mike needs time to adjust. But this is fiction. Every emotion has a purpose, every bit leads to something. And so far, it led to nothing. There was just one awkward moment, with no explanation, and it's never brought up again. There is no reason for it to be there. It's common knowledge that unnecessary story bits shouldn't make it to the final cut. If this wouldn't be expanded upon in some way, it'd be bad writing. It wouldn't be the worst thing to ever happen, but combined with him not being able to tell El that he loves her, it's all very confusing to say the least. But the story is not over, and maybe, all will be explained. And just maybe, that awkwardness could be described as tension between the two. Maybe Mike is in love with Will. That would be the most logical explanation.

#will byers #i'm back on the shipping bullshit #i hope i'm not reaching lol #this is getting out of hand #mike wheeler #mike wheeler x will byers #will byers x mike wheeler #will x mike #mike x will #byler endgame #byler nation #byler meta #byler tumblr #byler is canon #byler is real #byler is requited #byler is endgame #stranger things #byler

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zsakuva · 6 months ago

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Do you have your top 3 favorite series your doing/have done and if so, why are they your top 3?

The Noble Trials/Zaros

I have a feeling this series will always have a special place in my heart solely because of the concept, the challenges, and the voice actors that have lent their amazing skill to the project thus far. I love telling stories, and though it can be done with two characters (the speaker and corresponding Listener), it can get repetitive and boring. There's only so much depth you can dive into when you can't hear what the other person is saying. It's more than words; their intonation is critical in a medium where you can't depend on facial expressions. So the bigger cast allows for more conflict and in this story, gives it more weight.

Plus, viewing The Noble Trials as an episodic audio drama is so much fun, especially when finding the appropriate soundtrack for scenes (which can be a chore in itself, but is incredibly rewarding!)

2. The Broken Classmate/Niall

As the only M4M series on my channel, Niall was a driver to explore certain topics I couldn't do with anyone else. Battling with past trauma, internal struggles, and fear of coming to terms with who he is was paramount when writing him. And as a gay man myself, I wanted to share a story that might have started with tragedy, but ended on a hopeful note.

Much of his character is shaped by what happened in school; even though he has a supportive family, it's not enough to heal him. And for some people, the wounds are too deep. With Niall, his fears forced him to isolate himself, and I wanted to see how this man would be able to slowly break free from his own cage.

And when I read comments about how much people could relate to Niall, and how it helped with their own identity and closure, Niall served his purpose.

3. The Gang Lord's Son/Elias

This started as an experimental series. I knew I wanted a bigger cast simply due to the character Elias is and the conflict he finds himself in. I love stories where there are risks and stakes, and I wanted to incorporate an interactive experience for the audience. But I knew that the majority would vote for the best path no matter what, so this series allowed me to tackle something new as to how I told the story, as well as not being limited by the best case scenario which is... you guessed it. Boring.

As a character, Elias is quite fun to write as well. He's driven by many ideologies and fears, and some seem to clash within him. There are times I don't know what he'd do until I write it, and characters that surprise me are always great!

#zsakuva #sakuverse #audio roleplay #zaros #zaros atha'lin #niall #elias #the noble trials

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queenvhagar · 2 months ago

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Does questioning why someone would record the chosen king as a rapist in the history books disprove the claim that Aegon wasn’t a rapist in Fire & Blood?

May I also ask how you would respond to the question: ‘Why would you side with King Aegon, a rapist?’

"Even though none of the sources in the book say he did it, I'm going to headcanon that he probably did in fact do it, and every single person in history worked together to hide this fact because he was king briefly before being poisoned and this story being written. This fundamentally redefines his whole character in my mind and should also in yours, and this characterization I ascribed discredits the entire Green cause."

Some next level gymnastics of trying to hate on a character 🤸🏼‍♀️ 🏆

Breaking down the sources by the way just one more time regarding Aegon:

Septon Eustace, sympathetic towards royalty in general but more favorable to the Greens, present in KL at the time: Aegon had a cared-for paramour

(likely Green biased)

Mushroom, Rhaenyra's court jester, favorable to the Blacks, tending to tell outrageously unbelievable and sexual stories to entertain his audience, who had been on Dragonstone for years preceding this point: Aegon likes child fighting pits and little girls

(likely Black biased)

Grand Maester Munkun, Hand of the King to Rhaenyra son Aegon III, who came to court during the Hour of the Wolf: Aegon was at his revels on the Street of Silk, known area of wine sinks, brothels, and pleasure houses (similar to Daemon's and other Targaryen men's previous solicitations of the street in their youth)

(he wasn't there, but the account doesn't necessarily sway either way in terms of bias, likely a deliberate decision to placate the post-war court, but if anything, he would be more sympathetic to the Blacks as Rhaenyra's son now ruled)

Given the three sources, if any of these stories are accurate, it would be Munkun's account.

Regarding how he was characterized before this moment, Aegon is described by sources as being interested in women at court and prone to fondling serving women. Obviously by modern stories this in inappropriate and considered sexual harassment. In the ASOIAF universe unfortunately this is not some extreme outlier behavior that indicates willingness to commit sexual violence towards women. In ASOIAF, there are various characters who fit a type of a Westerosi man who enjoys sexual encounters with women, including prostitutes, serving girls, and common folk. Robert Baratheon and Theon Greyjoy are two such characters who are described in this way. While this aspect of their characterization doesn't a send a very positive message about who these characters are and is generally seen as a flaw, it's considered overall acceptable behavior in Westeros and is described as such in the source material. These characters aren't considered particularly evil or deviant for being given these traits. It's quite a far step, then, to say that all the men described in this way in the book are automatically rapists, especially when there is no explicit evidence indicating such violence occurred. Like sure, you could headcanon scenarios where these characters are capable of that kind of thing, but in the text there is zero indication of this.

The same is true of how Aegon II is described and characterized. You could headcanon that he was capable of something like that, and you could rely on the show's account which solely accepts Rhaenyra's fool's heightened, hyper-sexualized/perverted version of the event that he made up despite being away from the city for years at this point. But textually there is little reliable information to suggest that Aegon is an outright violent rapist and abuser of women. This is why many reject the show's characterization of Aegon and are able to not only support him and have sympathy for his character but also support the Green cause and/or oppose the Black cause.

And I honestly doubt that GRRM would have purposely set out to have one side of his Targaryen civil war led by a violent rapist, since it would distract from his real intentions with the Dance: portraying a morally gray anti-war story of a family destroying itself, lead by two ideologically opposed factions. Making one side obviously good and the other obviously evil goes against his whole system of creating characters and contradicts what he's said about his stories in the past. He would not have the Greens figure-headed by a violent rapist, as he knew that would tilt the scales in favor of Team Black and encourage side-choosing, which would erase the moral ambiguity of the conflict and lessen its intrigue. As Shireen said about the Dance, it was the choosing of sides that was bad. That was kind of GRRM's point. Neither side was entirely correct or wrong, and both were responsible for tragedy and death. He was intentional in creating his sides, the characters, and the motivations they had for doing what they did.

#asks #anti hotd #hotd critical

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kinardsevan · 1 month ago

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How confident are you about BuckTommy getting back together? How do you think it might happen?

I don't know that I've put a number on it. And on one hand, it's because I live in this weird limbo where I'm positive they're getting back together because that's just how you tell a story. but I'm also one of those people who struggles to trust the writers not to fumble shit. So... I mean it's definitely more than 50/50. if I had to choose a number, I guess somewhere around 85/90%. because realistically, that number has only strengthened with my resolve over time (aka the hiatus).

now, I don't have a crystal clear idea on when they get back together. in fact, I spent roughly an hour on a video chat last night throwing out all the various scenarios that I think play into how it happens. hear me out:

so I think I was the first (and possibly only) person who commented on the fact that 806 being when they broke up signaled the end of the opening arc of the season. we're now in the midseason, telling that part of the story, and then obviously 807-812 will be the mid-season, and so forth with 813-818 being the final third. You can even arguably flex the middle part back into 811 if TM really wants the finale to be a multi-episode arc, as has been suggested. that all said, I think there are a few things that 805-808 set up for the rest of the middle of this season.

we got a lot of suggestion toward something happening. I'm really kinda sold on a helicopter crash actually happening midseason, mostly because I feel like holding it off for the finale would piss off the people who would be like "Tommy's not a MC". I also think that (unfortunately) not everyone views Tommy in the same blorbo shape we do, so as much as we would enjoy a three episode arc with a helicopter crash, coma, etc.,....it's just not going to shake out that way. Not even if all of this has been done (the break up I mean) as a push for the network to pony up more money to add him to the main cast (that's my own theory, there's absolutely no proof of it).

I know I've listed all of these in previous asks, but just in case this is the first one you're seeing, let's go through the list:

805: "having a crew like this around you when things go wrong" "especially when things go wrong" // "our people are what make our lives worth living

806: "no matter how badly I want it to be, I'm not your last" "they can be the same thing" // (Buck's entire understanding by the end of the Glee scene that yes, he is in fact in love with Tommy, even if he didn't say it)

807: ALL the baking. We have to reference back to 705 when Buck told Eddie "I kinda can't stop thinking about him", which then translatd in 807 to "whenever I think about calling Tommy, I channel it into something positive" (i.e., the baking), and we also know he's constantly baking. Even in 808, he has the entire basket that he shows up to Eddie's house with, which very much suggests, he's trying to move on, but is still very much in love with Tommy. ALSO, the "what if he's hurt and needs my help" 808: I honestly feel like the only real scenes that we got in this entire episode that moved the plot forward at all were the scene (sort-of) with Eddie and Brad (which honestly should've been Bobby/Eddie, but whatever), and the scene with Buck and Eddie. There's also this fascinating conversation that could be had about Buck with the whole "I'm still jonesing for it"/wanting to keep baking. There's so much out of 807 and 808 that really point to Oliver's commentary with the post-806 interview where he talked about Buck swinging like a pendulum, trying to figure out if he should reach out or just let go. But here's the thing: there's no closure on this. Given that we follow the story through Buck's eyes, the show is telling us that Buck has not been able to shut the door on this relationship, which really serves us (the audience) then, with the need for this to be hashed out, for Buck to say his piece, and then let pieces lie where they may.

Now, the naysayers will argue that this could just be a final conversation of goodbye, and they're welcome to feel that way. Except.

"No matter how bad I want it to be" // "We don't have to get engaged or married" -- Even as a general audience member, I think people can understand that these are serious statements. They're both saying that they want a future together, but Tommy's fear (and Buck's steamrolling) have (temporarily) put a stop to that. I think there's also a point in some of the statements that came out of that same post-806 interview, where TM said Tommy was setting Buck "free" to explore his sexuality and learn more about himself.

now, there are a million and a half interpretations to this. some people think that Buck absolutely needs to seek out and understand more about himself (and by extension, Tommy). some (like me) don't feel that this is a show that's ever going to publicly acknowledge Buck having a scene where he says the words "I'm bisexual" out loud. I've also seen a take recently that was half meta/half fic kinda looking at the idea of Buck's questioning in 806 being because he didn't fully understand the engagement of the outside world to their relationship. the only problem with that rhetoric is that we have 705 and 706. we have the coffee date, where he holds Tommy's hand and publicly asks him on date, and then we have him kissing the other man in public. if he's done it once, he's done it a million times after six months, so I don't think you're facing a situation where he's uncomfortable with who he is, especially when he openly outed himself to every person he loves with said boyfriend. (granted, there are complaints about the whole "I noticed you didn't" conversation, at which I feel the need to remind people that, in the grand scheme it may not seem like that conversation makes much sense, but Buck is the vehicle through which the show was using to get to the story about Abby; also there's a difference between asking someone about their sexuality versus asking them if they've ever been with x gender. I also cannot stress the importance in that particular scene of, Buck is and always has been bisexual. Even if he's only recently come to understand that's what it is, he has ONLY EVER KNOWN having the concept of being sexually attracted to both genders, even if he didn't think that dating men was an option before Tommy. [and also, there's such a full-on essay I could write about this issue alone, given his upbringing]. I think in relation to that, you have to be understanding to his "I noticed you didn't", because he probably can't conceptualize a version of people who are only straight or gay, because he's always looked at both the same way.)

THAT ALL SAID:

obviously I've commentated on the fact that we're going to get some kind of injury/accident/etc. Another quote that stays in my mind with the interviews post-806 was the final line in one where Oliver made the statement that "it's 911, there's always trauma coming". (I'm butchering that, but it's the general point). granted, we can take that as we choose/view it through the lens of Maddie's kidnapping... except, someone asked @nqueso-emergency recently about the episodes that had been directed by the directors of 809/10, and looking at that list as I was literally watching several of those episodes really led me to the idea that there's the possibility that we're been fed a swerve with what we know about the coming episodes. we've been told Maddie will be kidnapped, and even shown those scenes. I've personally questioned/theorized whether that will somehow feed into the b/t of it all, and Buck's situationship he's going fall into. obviously because we don't actually have answers, there's a million different ways that could pan out.

when I tell you I have a million and a half theories... I have a million and a half theories.

Like... what if Buck also gets kidnapped and it has to do with the situationship? Or what if it doesn't, but he still gets kidnapped? Or what if Tommy is kidnapped along with Maddie, and it is or isn't related to the situationship, but generally has something to do with Buck and Maddie? I just keep coming back to this thing of the eventual rescue that has to come out of the kidnapping, and the different ways that can play out. One of the things I was thinking most about lately was how I feel like you could see the episode end similarly to 610, where things feel like they've settled and they're going to be okay (Maddie's been found; Tommy and Chimney going after the Buckleys to bring them home, helicopter crash being the final scene of the episode), which would then tee up an entire episode where you can play out the drama of the break up, whatever confessions came through the kidnapping, etc. because that's my other thing: I genuinely feel like whatever disaster is going to befall Tommy that leads to him realizing that these people are also his people, is going to be with Evan. TM has done this before (most notably with Judd, from my own memory of LS). crashing the helicopter with the two of them together and forcing them to survive while having unresolved issues really forces them to lay things out to one another. now. will that necessarily be how the show does it?

who knows.

I've also flirted with the idea of Chimney and Tommy going after Buck and Maddie (because at the end of the day, this is a rehashing of Doug kidnapping Maddie, so we know Buck will go after her), and there not being a helicopter crash, but Tommy getting into trouble for taking government property (again), but this time getting in actual trouble for it. if they wanted to play into the entire "Eddie going to Texas" storyline, they could demote him, ship him back to the 118 (I just keep hearing Chief Alonzo tell him "since you love the 118 so much, you can go back there"), and the following episodes really playing into OS' slow burn of them not being together but also having forced proximity, which obvs would ultimately lead to them getting back together by the end of the season. this also really tees up the option that people like where we get storytelling on Tommy's past through him and Buck just generally being forced to engage more in a way that isn't romantic. and then obvs by the end of the season, Eddie would come back, Tommy would do some heroic shit that would get him back to the 217, and so forth.

the last little idea I've played with most recently, post-810, is the idea that they do the kidnapping, the resolution (without Tommy at all), and we see a massive time jump. Truth be told, I don't think they'll skip over baby Han #2's birth, but I also was kinda like "...but what if they did?" what if we skipped ahead in the timeline a year or two? Eddie going to Texas, Madney having their baby, Bathena's house being finished, Henren having their time with their kids, and Buck having his "discovery stage".... only to circle back around to the fact that over the course of a year (or two, etc), he's still in love with Tommy. Sure, the infatuation is quieter now in his head, not as prominent and the grief doesn't hurt as much... but any time they run into each other on-scene or in public, that pang is still there. the love is still there. you could really parlay that into something akin to when Maddie went back to Chimney in 218 to reconcile, which I think is an option. Maybe even twist it into a version of "you were my first, and I still want you to be my last".

the only other version of this I have personally conceptualized is the idea that the kidnapping happens (once again without any involvement with Tommy), things are working out, Buck is having his situationship... and then the helicopter crash happens. I've definitely flirted with idea leaning towards Buck/Josh because I think the bones are all already there, at which point you then get some level of a scene where there's a group scene, the news of the crash is heard, and you swiftly get this acknowledgment of "welp, that's over". because I am not at all putting it past this show to use a NDE to be what pushes b/t back together. especially because, at the end of the day, these are two people who told each other they want to spend the rest of their lives together (refer back to my barriers comment above). I will not put it past them to have what shakes Tommy's resolve is one of them almost dying and realizing he'd rather be scared and alive than know one of them could be dead and not have had that time together.

anyway....i've word vomited for ages now. this took me like an hour to write. you're welcome.

yall really gotta stop sending me these asks b/c then I just hyperfixate and go all "look at my brainmap!"

#anon ask #ask me anything #mel's musings #bucktommy #911 abc #911 speculation #911 season 8 #my asks are always open #you guys really just like to make me ramble #like it's super obvious at this point lol

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chaifootsteps · 8 months ago

Note

some tags relating to a post about Stolas bitching Blitzo didn't come save him:

#Plus#Stolas didn’t really try to fight back against striker until he was stabbed#he took a whole horseback ride to and through wrath relaxed enough to contemplate on strikers hotness#Ask about theme songs#And have a banter#he even shows that he can kick striker strong enought to push him around a bit while waiting for blitz#he just didn’t see the need to

and honestly that's a good point. Not only did he do a lousy job defending himself for no reason, not only did he act totally casual on the phone for no good reason - he didn't even try to put up a token resistance or attempt to get away, call for help, etc.!

Also, I feel the urge to point this out - he never told Blitzo where the horse was heading or where he was currently. But he just expected Blitzo to be able find him?

idk if the writers thought they were cooking with that line or if they really wanted the audience for hate Stolas' guts for it, but looking back on Western Energy it really seems like yet another Loo Loo Land scenario. Stolas puts in either no effort or a token effort to protect himself despite having godly powers, then just calls up his imp booty call to handle the dangerous and deadly stuff and gets pissy if Blitzo has other things on his hands right that second.

It really seems like he expected Blitzo to drop everything to come save him right. Even the way he talks on that phone call - 'so I think you should come and save me!' He's so assured of his own power that he just assumes he's not in much real danger, that he can snap his fingers and have Blitzo come running and fulfil his bodyguard fantasies.

like what was his plan here? he gives Blitzo a woeful amount of info and expects him to come save him, but if Blitzo couldn't do it he was just going to sass Striker about his being poor and then get stabbed to death because he couldn't be bothered breaking out the eye powers on someone who was trying to shoot him when it would have been the smart thing to do?

Exactly. Neither of them gave a shit when he asked Blitzo to come help him because Stolas did so with absolutely zero urgency, but he's choosing to blame Blitzo for it now because Blitzo had the sheer audacity to tell Stolas that he treated him poorly. Fucking disgusting.

#Anonymous #viv stuff #stolas critical #actual blog post #apology tour

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cyb-by-lang · 2 months ago

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So just for a quick ask about the eventual big reveal scene about kei being a real ninja to class 1A assigned to babysit/ protect them. would it go like deku would start putting the clues together during the school training camp or would the reveal go like at the last minute, while saving bakugo or someone else, her anbu mask breaks and reveal her identity to everyone in class scenario. Kinda like what happened in the manga where Naruto shattered tobi mask to reveal it was a not quite dead obito all along

In Shell Game, Izuku and Hitoshi manage to figure things out between them because they know Kei/Turtle in two different contexts and are able to link the clues together the instant one of them has suspicions in earshot of the other. That it happens after the camp arc is just a function of when the pair can actually get time to talk. This carries through to Deluge, where the internal puzzling happens before the divergence starts.

I'm not telling you what will happen in Cascade because, frankly, that's not something an audience gets to know three chapters into a work in progress.

#cascade #shell game #deluge #keisuke gekko #asks #anonymous

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swordfright · 10 months ago

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Tell me about how the structure of the medium impacts the story 🔫

My brother in Christ, prepare yourself for the most boring essay you could possibly imagine. I'm going to over-simplify a few things here for the sake of Getting To The Point, so bear with me.

I think a good starting place is that DSMP is an example of New Media. The go-to definition most folks use is this one: that New Media are stories told via "communication technologies that enable or enhance interaction between users as well as interaction between users and content." In other words, NM is basically this category of stories made up of convergent elements, which satisfy a multimedia requirement, and are heavily reliant on both participatory fan culture and recent advances in technology that allow creators/audiences to communicate with one another instantly.

There's a couple ways you can understand DSMP as a New Media, but as far as I'm concerned, one of the most interesting is prosumption. The term "prosumption" describes a creative situation where a piece of art is being produced (at least in part) by the same people that consume it; they're both audience and creator. DSMP is a really great example of this phenomenon, because A) it's serial and therefore the CCs had ample opportunity to respond to and engage with the audience's reception of their story; and B) because the chat feature allows CCs to interact directly with their audience during roleplay rather than after the fact. These features, among others, kinda set the stage for DSMP to function as a highly prosumptive piece of media.

In particular, the stuff that interests me is the stuff to do with storytelling convention (genre, perspective, etc) and how prosumption turns all that on its head. There are a number of altercations in DSMP canon where the course of the story is altered because of real-time interactions between the CCs and their chat - particularly times when a CC's chat warns them about events happening at the same time elsewhere in the server. In this kind of scenario, the CCs are static, they can't really leave their own stream. Their viewers, on the other hand, are able to jump between streams and talk to each other to figure out what's happening in the overarching story. When this happens, viewers have choices to make: are they going to tell a CC what's going down on the other side of the server? If so, how are viewers going to communicate those events? Viewers are biased, they directly inform CCs, and the information they divulge (as well as how they divulge that info) goes on to influence CCs' actions and thus the events of the story, to some degree. In my opinion, this is a pretty new and exciting way to prosumptively construct a narrative! Media has always been interactive to some extent (especially serial works), but the interaction being live and in real-time is pretty significant in my view because it can exert unique pressures on a narrative.

Speaking of audience choice, that brings me to the next thing I want to yap about: ergodic storytelling, a term that refers to stories “negotiated by processes of choice, discernment, and decision-making.” For reference, a good non-MCYT example of this would be hypertext fiction, because it's generally characterized by the ability of the interactant (that's the reader, in this hypothetical example) to explore material provided by someone else, either as a kind of conceptual landscape (think setting in a video game), or as puzzle pieces that must be put together in order to give the interaction the "big picture" of the story. Basically, with hypertext fiction, there is a core text (the main document that forms the skeleton of the story) and there are multiple hypertexts branching off of the core text - and whether the reader ends up reading those branches, and in what order, inevitably shapes that reader's perception of the whole story.

So here's where it gets tricky. In the case of DSMP, where is the core text located? Is there any one identifiable core text at all? Or is it more appropriate to consider each individual stream or VOD as its own singular core text, with the related Twitch channels and Youtube recommended in the sidebar being "branches"? Alternatively, if the streams and recordings distributed on the server members’ official channels are the central text in the grand hypertext fiction that is DSMP, then can adjacent spaces where audiences do the work of creating and archiving lore be considered their own story branches? I don't have answers to these questions. No one does. That's part of what makes DSMP exciting.

To translate the above quote out of Academia Hellspeak: in an ergodic story, the audience has agency, but the agency enabled and allowed by the text varies in its intensity and mode. Yes, stories told ergodically necessitate choice — and therefore enable agency, turning the reader or viewer into interactant — but that element of choice doesn't always look the same. Some hypertexts are more choice-reliant than others, or are choice-reliant in different ways. So, rather than being a choose-your-own-adventure story, DSMP is more closely analogous to a story where the audience chooses the perspective through which they view plot developments, in addition to having some influence over how plot developments unfold.

(☝️From a 2021 Polygon article, if you think I sound crazy☝️)

The web of choices DSMP presents to viewers is very complex, even compared to other forms of choose-your-own-adventure game. Because each CC approaches the task of story-creation from their own angle (bringing their own narrative baggage to the writers’ room, so to speak), those shifts in perspective this Polygon article describes often also constitute shifts in genre. For instance, cc!Wilbur brought his music production experience and interest in musical theater to the server, cited operas and stage musicals as some of his main inspirations; and accordingly, much of c!Wilbur's most crucial arcs observably draw from those sources. When you watch a c!Wilbur stream, you’re watching a story about statecraft, about revolution, about the triumphs and tragedies of ego that play out during the process of nation-building. On the other hand, cc!Quackity has repeatedly identified Breaking Bad and Better Call Saul as his primary influences; accordingly, his RP character’s story is closer to a piece of gritty prestige television in some places (especially LN series). Unlike with c!Wilbur, a lot of c!Quackity's tension does not revolve around a romanticized fantasy of revolution but around more personal conflicts: securing your place in a new regime, navigating exploitation as both exploited and exploiter, etc. In terms of both plot beats and character arcs, Wilbur and Quackity’s respective storylines embody many of the genre conventions the content creators are working within.

Moreover, a shift in genre often entails a shift in style or mode. Because cc!Wilbur was heavily inspired by musical theater, the presentation style of his character’s storyline is correspondingly both theatrical (i.e. only loosely scripted, nearly always televised live, and improv-heavy) and musical (featuring multiple instances of Wilbur singing in-character ballads and anthems.) On the flipside, Quackity’s streams (especially the later ones, since I'm mostly focusing on Las Nevadas era here) demonstrably mimic the prestige TV shows the CC draws his inspiration from, with lore sessions being pre-recorded rather than televised live, featuring distinctive sonic and visual aesthetics popularized by neo-Western thriller dramas. So, where a piece of media like DSMP is concerned, shifts in perspective entail shifts in genre, which in turn entail pronounced shifts in style. I don't think it's an exaggeration to say it's an entirely new story depending on which character the viewer decides to follow. In that regard, what initially appears to be a single choice (whose perspective to watch a plot event through) has the power to determine a wide array of other elements, as viewers’ responses to the options presented to them will decide the overall tone of the section of the story they're about to watch.

While I think the genre-switching is genuinely super cool, lately I'm a lot more interested in perspective-switching and how it's related to viewer empathy. One side-effect of DSMP being televised live is that yes, you can watch a plot event from 30+ different POVs, but you can't watch every POV live. Typically, you either have to switch between multiple streams, or you need to pick one streamer to watch live and maybe later you'll watch other characters' POVs as you see fit. This has an impact on your perception of how that plot point went down because watching something live feels very different from watching something after-the-fact. I haven't done study on this, so what I'm about to say is mostly conjecture, but I wouldn't be surprised if viewers felt greater empathy for (and greater degrees of kinship with) characters whose POVs they watched live.

The choice of which character to follow also has observable impacts on other kinds of narrative conventions (who is the main character of DSMP? the boring answer is c!Dream because the server's named after him, but the real answer is the protagonist is whoever's POV you watched most of the major plot events through) but to be honest, those questions don't interest me as much.

So, going back to perspective and empathy. I think viewers' reactions to Exile are a really solid way of exemplifying the thing I'm trying to say, so this is the part of the yapping where we gotta bring up the dreaded Exile discourse.

Even though the Exile VODs are available and new viewers can go back and watch them, those viewers experience the Exile arc in a way that is fundamentally different from the experience had by viewers who had to wait in between updates as the videos were being streamed serially in real-time. I would argue that viewers who were “present” during the whole arc noticeably felt the brutality of c!Tommy’s treatment to a greater degree, because the audience was effectively forced to sit in exile alongside Tommy’s character - stewing in anxiety, looking forward to the possibility of appearances from other characters, and living in fear of Dream’s next visit, etc etc. Obviously you could also make this point using c!Dream's time in Pandora as an example, but I'm using Exile here because I've actually seen a lot of fans bring this up when discussing the arc: "people who didn't watch live Don't Get It," "the reason newer fans don't see Exile as scary is because they didn't have to watch it live," that sort of thing. And while I have certain qualms with some of the implications here, I do think these are really fascinating responses! These sorts of responses show that viewers consciously perceive their viewing experience as having been fundamentally different from others' based on a temporal element that's unique to serial fiction!

This instance of a divergence in collective fan experience is an example of choice being rendered unavailable to viewers by virtue of the story’s structure and means of distribution; audience members who happen to accidentally miss streams or who begin following the story after major events have occurred will never be able to engage with and witness those events as LIVE viewers, merely as retrospective ones. They don’t get to make that choice, but they do get to make choices about which perspective (and therefore genre) they get to experience the story through. So it follows that each aspect of DSMP, a semi-ergodic story, can be categorized as either ergodic or non-ergodic, and whether a particular storytelling element is ergodic can change depending on WHEN the viewer began tuning in to the story.

I have a lot more shit to say (shocker) but I'm gonna cap it here for now. Though I do want to add that this is kinda why I have a lot of patience for the crazy diversity of interpretation you tend to get in DSMP fandom. If you took a random sample of fans and asked them what they think of various arcs, characters, and plot events, chances are they would all have fairly different things to say. To me, that's a feature, not a bug. Obviously I have my own opinions, and obviously I do think it's possible for a given interpretation to be "bad," i.e. not grounded in the text - but I have a lot more patience for it here, in a fandom where agreeing on what "the text" EVEN IS presents a challenge. We can't all agree on who the main character is, so I don't ever expect us to agree on more nuanced questions of theme and conflict resolution in the narrative. Again, that's a feature, not a bug. I don't think it was ever possible to reach a consensus with a piece of media like DSMP because of how inextricable the audience is from the story.

#dream smp #tw cc!Wilbur mention #in case anyone wants to avoid that right now for obvious reasons #sorry for yapping for so long but I did warn you #also sorry for letting this sit in my inbox for ages #I got so busy and it was hard finding a spare moment to sit down and collect my thoughts #dsmp exile arc #asks #long post

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