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Proserpina (Fic Preview)
🕑 Added 2021-08-11 20:43:08 +0000 UTC(My first JJK fic! This is a preview of a work someone commissioned on Twitter, but I figured I would let you guys have an early look. The pairing is Sukuna/Megumi, no /specific/ warnings but uh…Sukuna is a very, very dangerous being. So like it’s consensual but probably not all that sane lmfao)
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“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 bargain 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.
“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 low 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.
“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.”
