Proserpina (Complete)

If anything could be said for the King of Curses, it was that he most certainly maintained a particular aesthetic.

The Innate Domain of Demonic Feretory was a dark and murky place, full of twisting shadows and leering skulls. A corrupted shrine, warped to suit the needs of a sadistic curse-god, harrowing in everything from the cold air that surrounded it to the deep, oppressive silence that seemed to be the marrow of the place.

Megumi took a breath in, and then let it out as his foot landed on the steps of the shrine. It wasn’t a particularly original concept for a demon to want to desecrate a holy place, bordering on cliche. But if one was going to enact a cliche, then execution was everything.

And Sukuna appeared to be well beyond mastery of executions.

Megumi was aware that he could be killed at any moment. Two hundred meters, and even if he were standing within sight of the edge, he could be slashed to ribbons with less effort than it would take to squash an ant. In a damaged body, without a heart, Sukuna had still batted his attacks aside like they were troublesome flies, and had pushed him to the edge within minutes.

I could have died then. I could die right now. He could probably kill me between one footfall and the next, before I was even aware it had happened.

His foot landed with a soft tap, and he continued his progression towards the heart of the dark temple.

It wasn’t a matter of fear. Fear was an auxiliary emotion; a warning signal, a preparation. For a jujutsu shaman, it could never be a ruler of thought, only ever an assistant, or else death would be swift. He had trained his fear, studied it, learned it. Felt it, when he needed to. Yet Megumi had also learned to keep it on a leash like an overeager dog, and had grown steadily accustomed to the constant pulling and tugging at the end of the lead.

Right now, though, it was not fear that held the end of his rope. Each step forward seemed to land in time with a beat of his heart, and every dragging breath of cold air into his lungs coiled an altogether different fire inside. Something deep and primal stirred in his gut, rising like a serpent from the vibrations of every footfall along his legs, his belly, his spine, and his chest.

When at last he came to the massive throne of skulls and bones, not putrid but picked clean and shining white, the snake tightened a coil around his intestines and then hissed, pleased, and released him.

The face before him bore traces of familiarity, and Megumi wondered if that was the curses’ choice, or if he was somehow partially bound to Yuji’s image. Perhaps he had simply been without a self for so long that even on a subconscious level, he mimicked the body he had come to possess, regardless of whether or not it was strictly his own. Yet this before him was not Yuji, despite the shape of the eyes or the familiar curve of a lip.

Four great, muscular arms lounged on the skeletal arms of the chair, one resting idly on a horn that protruded from the back, two folded casually in his lap, clawed hands resting atop the pale robe, and the last cupped the upper curve of a skull to tap a bored forefinger just above the empty eye socket. Dark lines formed the design of the curse across his skin in geometric pattern, and a monstrous tongue appeared through a ripple of flesh in his stomach to lick at what would be lips anywhere else.

This was a god. A demon. Ryomen Sukuna.

Their eyes met, and the claw paused its tapping.

“Fushiguro Megumi. Awfully bold of you to set foot in my domain,” he murmured, and Megumi stifled a shiver at the magnitude of his speech in an otherwise deathly silent place.

“I knew you wouldn’t kill me if I came here. And…I want to speak with you. Alone.”

He didn’t miss the lit-gunpowder flash in Sukuna’s eyes, and knew he was walking the thinnest, most dangerous tightrope of them all.

It would not do to insult a king on his throne.

“Bolder still of you to speak like that to me. You live now only because of Yuji’s interference, and it killed him. What stupid little delusion leads you to waste his pathetic sacrifice?”

“I believe you need me alive—“

The words didn’t get the chance to finish exiting his mouth. Sukuna did not rise from his throne; he was simply in front of Megumi, as though he’d been standing there this entire time, inches from his face. A sharpness against his chest had him glancing down, and he saw the lance-point of one claw had pierced his robe and rested, daggerlike, just above his heart. His other three arms rested at his sides, not needed for the task.

The skin there broke just enough that a single drop of blood ran along Sukuna’s claw, and stained the blue fabric darker. It blossomed outward, plum-dark, a warning and promise alike.

“Make no mistake, I could kill you now. I could rip your heart from your chest the same way I did to Yuji, but since I’m not inside you, you’d just perish on the spot.” Sukuna stated this with the objective confidence of someone reporting on the weather outside, like it was a simple given fact.

Megumi breathed. In, out. Fear pulled its lead, but he ignored it; the hair on the back of his neck stood in a prickle, and a tremor shook his knees. He stared into Sukuna’s eyes and saw the ravenousness of wild dogs, of infinite fire, of magic and corruption and despair.

“I only said I believe it. I could believe the wrong thing. But if you wanted to kill me, I would be dead a million ways by now, regardless of what Yuji wants or does.”

Sukuna withdrew the tip of his claw, speckling blood from the ragged hole he left behind, and laughed the laugh of a man who has just heard a really excellent joke from a close friend. Megumi stiffened his spine to keep from swaying towards him at the sound.

“Very well spoken, little shaman. Seems like you’re getting used to addressing curses, though you’d do better if you didn’t shake like that.” He strode boredly to the base of the heap of bones that formed his throne, and leaned back against them. Part of Megumi’s dizzy mind almost expected him to pull out a pack of cigarettes and light up, so casual was his stance. “So tell me, where does this belief of yours come from? Why is it that you think I need anything, much less another brat on my hands?”

Megumi knew he had to be careful with his answer, even if he was being allowed to live. Showing his hand too early could so easily prove to be a fatal mistake, or he could end up far, far worse than dead.

“I have something that you…want. Strongly, or so I imagine. I figure that someday, somehow, you’ll get it from me—I know I can’t win against you. I don’t have the strength, and I’m not stupid enough to pretend that I do. You killed Yuji, and brought him back like it was nothing. I know you don’t really care whether I live or die either, not on principle. But you’ll either take what you want from me by force, and discard me,” his eyes flicked up, and he even allowed his chin to lift a scant millimeter in the air, “Or I could offer myself to you now, and bargain to remain whole.”

No gambler would choose his odds; it was a hangman’s bargain, at best. To offer himself to a cold blooded curse, who had once tried to kill him simply for being nearby in order to push him to use the full extent of his powers was beyond foolish. Ryomen Sukuna had no better angels to appeal to, and would likely feel nothing but irritation if Megumi were killed, and only that because it would interrupt his plans. The most Megumi had to deal with was the faint hope that Sukuna would appreciate being spared even the small effort of taking what he desired by force, and would somehow be amused by Megumi himself.

But as so often in his life, he found he had no other option. Now or later, he would be at Sukuna’s mercy. All he could try to do was soften whichever blow landed. It wasn’t fair, but that was life. Fairness was rarely the point of things.

Sukuna smiled, and the low light glittered off the white gate of his teeth with an almost blueish tint. He was handsome, and brutal, and Megumi felt that snakelike sensation slithering within himself again, leaving unusual heat in its wake.

“Well, every god certainly loves a devout offering. I would almost suspect you’re flattering me, but for the fact that you’re much too honest for that sort of thing. I don’t think you have it in you.” Megumi wasn’t sure if that was intended as an insult or a compliment. Sukuna began to circle the hazy edge of the temple’s main room, and Megumi knew better than to turn to face him when he disappeared from his peripheral vision. This was a weighing, and a measuring. All he could do was stand a little straighter, and mute the quivering of his breath.

“But you’re absolutely right. I could just take what I want from you, when I think the time is right. Or now, or later, or whenever,” Sukuna said from behind him, his voice a lazy drawl. It was the only noise he made; his footsteps were silent despite the immense size of his body, and the presence of him filled every inch of this space until Megumi was sure he was somehow breathing the curse into his lungs. “How interesting of you to offer yourself to me, though. If you truly believe that I need you, shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

Before Megumi could question what he meant, Sukuna strolled in front of him once more. Those starving eyes raked up and down his body, rougher than hands, and then Sukuna did something Megumi could not have predicted in a thousand years.

He sank to his knees, and looked up earnestly.

“I gave Yuji his life back for a minute of his time. Imagine what I would do for an hour with you.”

A minute? An hour? Megumi felt his heart thunder in his chest as he looked down at Sukuna. From this angle, his face seemed almost boyish, almost genuine, even when belied by the reality of his monstrous, many-limbed body. He was a god on his knees, and Megumi the trembling and needful devotee, with a tongue too heavy to lift. All of worship was but the intersection of fear and love, and he realised that in restraining one, he had forgotten to contain the potential of the other.

“You want…an hour?” The words barely managed to break through the tingling numbness of his lips.

Sukuna nodded. “An hour of your life, and I will be your slave. I am on my knees for you, Fushiguro Megumi. Do not expect me to go lower.”

It was the illusion of choice, of freedom, of power, and yet it was still headier than Megumi could remember anything being. Sukuna was giving him this for his own amusement, and likely little more, and still it was far more than Megumi ever would have hoped to bargain for. Beyond sorcery and magic lay this, and beyond this, he knew not what. Something low in his belly panged, twitched, came to life as both of Sukuna’s tongues licked out of their respective mouths once more.

He didn’t fully understand why Sukuna did what he did, but then again, he had no need to. Knowing would not affect the outcome.

“Then I agree. You will have me for one hour, in return for leaving me whole. And I will…have you.”

He knew as he spoke them that those words were an agreement more binding than any steel chain, and yet he did not flinch from them, nor from the smile that graced Sukuna’s face once more.

“Wise choice. I knew I liked you for a reason.”

Then Sukuna stood, both sets of shoulders rolling back. Up close, the difference in their heights was emphasised even further—Sukuna towered over him, massive and implacable. He smelled odd, like the coppery scent in the air before a thunderstorm, only noticeable for the fact it was so strange that Megumi felt himself lean in to chase another breath. Two large hands wrapped around his upper arms, and yet one more was still free to catch the underside of his chin and tilt it up. The last stroked the side of his face in a cloyingly endearing gesture, but before he could snarl Sukuna was grinning down at him.

“So, you wanna sample what you’ve just bought for yourself?”

It turned out it was hardly a question; Sukuna kissed him before he could even think of a response, mouth overpowering in its strength. Yet wasn’t that what he’d wanted, secretly? Not a fumbling kiss from a boy his age, not the sweetness of first puppy love, but intensity. Passion. Sukuna could give all of it to him, and then some.

He tried to be the reasonable one. In a world of senseless cruelty, where fairness so often flew out the window, at least rationality had a place. Honour. Dignity. Yet Sukuna’s tongue stripped the reason from his mind effortlessly, and he felt himself sinking deeper into oblivion. Perhaps this was the perversion of a curse, to make all his reasonable thoughts about why this was a bad idea fade away and leave nothing but sensation in their wake. Strong hands gripped at his waist, having slid down from his arms, and Sukuna pulled him close as though he weighed nothing at all. Through the half-tied robe, Megumi could feel the mouth in Sukuna’s stomach moving, twitching, as though it yearned to sneak a taste of what was right in front of it.

The thought of that had him gasping against the god’s lips, and Sukuna pulled back from him with a departing nip to his already-sore mouth.

“Now what are you thinking of so hard, little one?” The words were teasing, but the breath against his neck was utterly sincere, and Megumi shivered before finding his own response as his pulse was kissed almost reverently.

“I—If I have you now, and I can make requests of you—“ even like this, he wasn’t foolish enough to think he could command Sukuna in any real way, “Then I want you to taste me. All of me.”

The honesty of the request shocked him even as he voiced it, but there was hardly any sense in pretending otherwise anymore. Not when an aching wetness blossomed between his thighs, and he felt on the edge of a power he never could have predicted, yet wanted to embrace wholeheartedly. With one fingertip, he caught the edge of the lower mouth’s ‘lip’ and parted it gently, reaching inside until his finger slipped over the smoothness of waiting teeth.

“I think I could oblige that request,” Sukuna chuckled somewhere near his ear, even as his second tongue reached up and slipped wetly along Megumi’s palm. It was huge, pointed in a way that no human’s could be, and it caressed his hand wetly even as he felt its’ smaller twin against his throat. Heat flared in his gut and he clutched at Sukuna’s robes, unsure of what more to do, what next step to take.

He needn’t have worried, though. Deft fingers were everywhere on his body, pulling and tugging open the folds of his own robe and casting them aside in a dizzying frenzy, until all at once the fabric slipped loose and pooled around his ankles. Undergarments and all, leaving him bare in the chill of the unholy shrine. Gooseflesh pricked at his skin, and yet Sukuna’s hands swept across it, soothing every tremor. His breath was an audible rasp in the silence of the Domain, sawing in and out of his lungs, and yet he couldn’t find the strength to quiet it as one of Sukuna’s clawed fingers trailed down the line between his navel and the dark hair that covered his sex.

Then, just when he was certain he would be touched, he was instead seized around the waist. The room whirled, and he felt himself being carried; frantic, he gripped onto Sukuna’s shoulders, and managed to get out a yelp before he felt himself being sat down and the world righted itself once more.

He was atop the skull throne now, gazing out over the barren, impossible Domain.

It struck him again what a marvel this place was, dark and deathly though it may be. That Sukuna could make such a place without walls, simply casting it forth into reality…it was beyond artistry, beyond skill. And yet the being who made this place from sheer raw power now knelt before him, having placed him atop the gruesome throne like a doll, or a pretender king. He felt sixty feet tall, and at once, smaller than he had ever been before.

“Sukuna—“ he began, but the words died in his mouth when he looked down into that all-consuming gaze.

Sukuna was before him once more, broad shoulders half obscuring the view as he leaned over the lower half of Megumi’s body, eyes drinking every inch of him in. Megumi felt his own mouth dry up, unable to even think of what he’d been intending to say as cool fingertips skated along the sides of his body. Electricity followed after them, or perhaps it was fire, or maybe even ice—he had no names left for the feeling of being touched like this, nor gazed at as though he was precious.

“You have no idea how beautiful you are to me,” Sukuna murmured, and Megumi gasped as he felt those fingertips close around one of his nipples, plucking and pinching it expertly. “I’ve lived a long time, and seen many gorgeous humans come and go, but you’re an outstanding example, little shaman. Even for more than just your power. This body alone is enough to drive a man to distraction…even gods like me still have cocks that get hard over slender waists and strong hands like yours.”

In a flash, one of Sukuna’s hands snatched Megumi’s wrists and pinned them above his head, pressing into the hard back of the throne while two more drew his hips forward until they nearly hung off the edge. Helpless, he was helpless…

And it was so exciting.

Sukuna rose above him, and his heart fluttered like some little prey animal caught in a snare. Something terrible was going to happen, and he craved it more terribly still. A monstrous want for a monstrous man. “I loved that cold look you gave me when we fought, Megumi. Such an icy little brat, but it was a pleasure to handle you then, and it’ll be a pleasure to melt you now.”

Then rough hands were parting the curve of his thighs, spreading him wide until not an inch of his sex could be hidden. Sukuna’s eyes were magnetised down to it, though he didn’t touch it, not even when Megumi squirmed underneath him. Wetness was dripping out of him embarrassingly fast, yet he could no longer find the reins for his lust. All he felt was want, and the twisting ache of emptiness inside. The domination of the larger body over him was an effortless statement of fact, and in the end, he spread his legs even wider for it, shamelessly tilting his hips up.

“I’ve been dreaming of tasting you. And fucking you. Even more than fighting you—which is a surprise for me, you can imagine,” Sukuna said, but there was a heated edge to those words now. This was arousing him too? Megumi found the idea made his heart pound, and he tried to strain an inch higher on the instinct to entice. Perhaps he could eke a shred of mercy out of this predator if he was good, if he submitted and showed himself off…

Two fingers found either side of his clit and began pumping it, and he cried out in surprised delight. He hadn’t even noticed Sukuna’s hand move, but there were too many to keep track of. Now one was playing with his nipples, trading back and forth between them, adding even more pleasure to the confusing whirlwind. Heat here, heat there, he felt as though he couldn’t breathe from the sudden onslaught and yet there could be no escaping it. Nowhere to go, nothing to do but accept what was happening to his body.

One finger pushed inside without preamble and he gasped at the suddenness of it, feeling himself already stretching wide as it twisted and stroked. Firm rubs, to bully his cunt into getting wetter, and Sukuna was still grinning above him like this was the most amusing thing to happen to him in ages.

“Mm, awfully tight, aren’t we? Then again, it’s not trying to push me out…I bet you like masturbating, don’t you?” Between his legs, the pace increased until Megumi could hear the lewd wet noise of it, and then a second finger joined the first and he closed his eyes tight.

“F—fuck you,” was the best retort he could manage, and he heard Sukuna’s chuckle ringing in his ears. Then those fingers twisted, hooking and shoving up against the soft spot near the front of his pussy to mercilessly rut against it. Pleasure tightened his belly and he keened, body instinctively straining to find the orgasm that was rushing towards him. So close, so close! Even as Sukuna’s mocking made his cheeks sting with the humiliation of his inexperience, he still craved more and tried to ride the hand beneath him, until a wide palm shoved his hips back down to the seat of the throne.

The fingers slid out and he groaned in disappointment, hips jerking after the lost pleasure.

“Pussy knows what’s good for it, I see. But you won’t mind me having a better taste, will you?” Sukuna was a cocky, arrogant bastard, that was for damn sure. Megumi wanted to cuss him out, but then again, it wasn’t like he hadn’t earned the right. This Innate Domain alone was proof that his arrogance was rooted in real power.

Still, Megumi aimed a glare up at him from under his eyelashes, which only seemed to please Sukuna even more. Which in turn made Megumi want to slap him even more, only holding back for the fact that it might result in his immediate death.

And the fact that Sukuna’s tongue was now curling out of his stomach, and pressing up against Megumi’s sex in a long, wet lick. It parted the little lips, and snaked inside with ease even as Megumi’s nails scraped against the skulls that formed the back of the throne. He strained futilely against the grip that bound him, and felt the tongue thrust into him again. It was longer than most cocks, but thin and agile, twisting and curling up against every sensitive spot inside him.

“Oh god, oh my god,” he whimpered out, looking desperately down his body to see the huge fangs poised between his thighs, and the obscene red of the tongue licking the inside of his body like it wanted to eat out every last trace of his cream.

Sukuna snorted. “Your god? I’ll be your god, Fushiguro, but I didn’t think you had the faith for that sort of thing. Still, with as good as you taste, I’d be more than happy for you to kneel and worship me.”

He could taste him…even while speaking, Sukuna kept licking and fucking into Megumi’s body, greedily eating from one end even while he teased and mocked from the other. Like a gear slotting into place, Megumi realised that there truly was no fighting back against this creature, against Ryomen Sukuna. He’d known it all along, but like this? His body slumped, going lax and overwhelmed with the sensation of being taken and eaten, feeling that tongue stretch so deep it was licking a spot that made his toes curl.

Sukuna rewarded him by giving him his all. Again, merciless fingers rubbed at his clit, toying with it and jerking it until it was hard and throbbing with need. Megumi opened his mouth to say something, anything, perhaps even to plead, but was silenced by Sukuna’s other mouth claiming his. Two tongues penetrated him at once and thrust in tandem, licking so deeply he swore they might one day meet in the middle. And through it all, his body begged for more, clamping down and milking Sukuna’s thick tongue.

He wanted, hoped with the hope of the submissive, that he tasted good. In a mind gone hazy, it was the only coherent thought—I hope he keeps eating me like this, I hope he fucks me, I hope he takes everything from me in exchange for more! Just let me cum!

All around him he heard growling, a noise so deep it rattled in his bones and vibrated against his skin. But it no longer frightened him, not when he was riding this edge, not when one more minute could send him spiralling over. He didn’t even realise that his thighs were being gripped until strong hands hoisted him, and his ankles hooked automatically behind Sukuna’s back for purchase.

Their kiss never broke as he was lifted slightly off the throne, and Sukuna’s second set of arms held him in place, fucking him back and forth on his tongue even as it flicked and curled inside him. The hand that was holding his wrists released, and he clung to Sukuna so hard his nails might have drawn blood, but that only seemed to spur the curse on.

Absently, he felt the brush of Sukuna’s cock against the back of his thighs, and for some reason, that was what did it. The pressure that was building inside him exploded outwards, sending pleasure rocketing through his veins. Thoughts drained away out of his mind and there was only this moment, only the feeling of Sukuna holding him steady and still snarling against his flesh as he tasted more. It was a pleasure he might never recover from, and yet he craved more even as the ecstasy of it whited out his vision and his ears rang from the force of it.

By the time he sunk back down, Megumi was shaking with the aftershocks and his body felt pleasantly loose, as though he were floating in a warm bath. Slowly, Sukuna’s monstrous lower tongue moved out of him, licking up between his folds on the way out and smiling when it drew back. The effect was almost grotesque, and yet Megumi found himself hazily amused by it.

Sukuna drew back and for a moment, Megumi swore that he was breathing hard, even though he’d acted the entire time like this was only affecting him slightly. But before he could think about it too much, he was scooped up and their positions reversed, so he sat astride a wide lap and felt Sukuna’s erection pressing into the back of his thigh. When he looked down, Sukuna was all self-satisfaction and smugness, like the cat who got the canary.

“See, Fushiguro? You’re not so bad at bargaining after all. And perhaps you’ll be more entertaining than even I realised…”

His hips rolled up, pressing the hard length into Megumi’s backside, just to urge a gasp out of him.

“Once you’ve learned that your place is on your knees before me. Are you ready to begin?”