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Masterlist (so far)

Sukuna

Fics:

Reverence (8.9k, smut)

Vows (4.5k, angst, implied nsfw)

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Feathers (0.8k, fluff, implied nsfw)

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Jealous Sukuna (1.8k, fluff, implied nsfw)

Untitled drabble (0.8k, fluff, sfw)

Walls (1.2k, angst, sfw)

Canary (1k, fluff, light nsfw)

Choso

Classmates (6.8k, fluff, sfw)

(requests closed until i finish the ones ive collected already!!)

[ariiadnes]

i love you shy reader-inserts i love you naive reader-inserts i love you soft-spoken reader-inserts i love any and all reader-inserts and you should not complain about them in the x reader tag. by doing so you are putting down someone's creative work and efforts when you could have simply moved on, or even better, written your own story

[drenched-in-sunlight]

child of divorce yuuji my beloved 💔

[kenjakusbraincum]

one thing about me is i cant come up with a creative title for a fic like ever. all of them i named just one word that is relevant to the contents smh

[kenjakusbraincum]

Classmates

Choso x Reader

For all my JJK College AU enjoyers and sub/virgin/emo/nerd!Choso siblings i present you with an alternative to plug!Choso.

Word count: 6.8k

Tags/warnings: gender neutral reader, slow burn, completely SFW, fluff

Note: I'm feeling a little self conscious about this one. It's been a while since I've written anything, and writing Choso is not really my territory. Feedback appreciated and look out for a NSFW part 2!

Choso is that weird, shy, nerdy guy who always sits in the back of the class. He wears glasses and dark, baggy clothes, and he always looks like he's running on two hours of sleep at best. You rarely see him at parties and if you do, it's because Yuji and Todo convinced him to come, in hopes of getting him to crawl out of his shell and open up to people. It obviously doesn't go that way.

Choso does his best to get ready and look presentable. He does his little makeup routine, brushes and puts his hair up, sprays a little perfume, but it doesn't change the fact he never really gets noticed. Yuji and Todo immediately start chattering with people and Choso stands at the side, struggling to join the conversation and feeling as invisible as ever. The music is loud and overwhelming, people push him around, and he just ends up moving aside to stand leaned against the wall. He pretends he's not internally panicking about losing Yuji and Todo in the crowd, so he looks at his phone and just waits for an excuse to leave. You bump into him at the doors, and he looks terrified, apologizing to you so profusely it makes you do a double take. Usually guys who push you don't spare you a look of pity much less an apology. And usually people Choso bumps into just give him a dirty look and move away. You tell him there's no problem and he quickly looks away and walks off before you're able to notice he's blushing.

So no, you don't see him at parties. You do end up attending a class together though. You peep him at the back of the classroom as you take your seat and you notice he looks familiar. Choso notices you too, and he curses the day he thought attending a class where he knows nobody was a good idea. In his head there's this awkward tension between you, because he definitely remembers you, but he's not sure you remember him. Surely someone like you knows many people and gets approached by a million guys, out of all of them is he really worth remembering? There's no way. For now, he chooses to pretend you're not there. After a couple of instances of you deliberately trying to make eye contact and strike up a conversation with him in the hallway while you're on break, you start to think he's intentionally avoiding you. You're not gonna let that slide. The next time this class rolls around, you tactically enter the classroom after him so you can catch where he is and sit next to him.

Choso flinches when you swing your bag over the table at the spot next to him. He looks at you nervously and opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. ''Hey.'', you say as you sit down. He mutters a quiet 'hi'. He's panicking, and for a moment he can't seem to take his eyes off you. You take this opportunity to introduce yourself. ''We briefly met at that party a while ago, right?'', you start.

He is baffled both by how pretty you are in broad daylight, and by the fact you really do remember him. Then he realizes he's staring and he quickly looks away. ''Oh yeah.'', he says.

''It was really bad.'', you say as you settle in your seat and take your things out. ''You left at the right time.''.

At this point Choso is sweating trying to come up with another answer that includes more than one affirmative word, but his brain is mush. He manages another ''oh''.

''What's your name?'', you ask, prolonging his suffering.

He didn't say his name? God, you must think he hates you. ''Sorry, I'm Choso.'', he gathers the strength to look at you. You extend your hand to him and he takes it, so warm against his cold skin.

''Nice to meet you, Choso.'', you say. He can't help but notice how smoothly his name rolls off your tongue. He doesn't hear his name often, especially not from anyone outside of his two roommates. You make it sound nice. He repeats after you quietly, and the professor decides to rescue him from the awkward situation he's created by showing up.

You stop talking to him then, but the tension doesn't go away. Choso feels hyper aware of every cell of his body, he's sure you're noticing every awkward movement and breath he takes, and hating yourself for choosing to sit next to him. He's clenching his jaw and clicking his pencil, he can't even bring himself to pay attention to the class or take notes, his hand is shaking - and then the professor mentions group work and he starts to feel your gaze turning to him, and he thinks he's going to pass out. He looks at you like a scared puppy.

''Do you...'', you smirk at him, slowly starting to match his awkwardness. ''I mean we don't have to if you have someone else in mind.''

''Yes. I mean no!'', he stutters. ''We can do it together. If you want to... of course...''

''Okay! Looks like we'll need at least another two though. Do you know anyone else in this class who could be a good candidate?'', you ask.

''N-no...'', in fact, Choso knows just about two people in total.

''Okay...''

You stare at each other for a moment, and Choso begs god that you're willing to go asking around instead of him. You figure out he's not exactly the most social type, so you pat the two people sitting in front of you on the back and ask if they want to join you. They nod their heads yes and you exchange contact with them, eventually turning to Choso, who seemed to be lost in thought, replaying the interaction in his head. You look at him with your phone in your hands and he doesn't seem to get the hint.

''Can I have your number?'', you prod.

''Oh yes.'', his hand is shaking as he struggles to get his phone out of his pocket and look it up because god knows he has immediately forgotten his number, and he wouldn't like to give you the wrong one.

''Got it. I'll add you to the group chat later.''

Somehow Choso survives this class and manages to awkwardly say goodbye to you. That night in his room he replays the entire interaction in his head again, struggling to remember anything he said other than yes and no. He feels like a fool, suddenly struck with a million ideas of what he could've said and asked back, to make it seem like he's at least slightly interested.

He sighs as his phone lights up. You added him to the group chat. Well, at least he'll have plenty of opportunities to prove himself.

''Who's that?'', Yuji asks, peering into his phone. Todo jumps out of his bed at the very possibility that there's someone in Choso's life apart from him and Yuji.

Choso quickly lets his phone fall back against his chest, hiding the screen from his roommates' nosy eyes. Damn it, he didn't even get a moment to indulge and look at your profile picture. Yuji and Todo look at each other with light in their eyes and Choso immediately knows he made a mistake. ''It's just a classmate.'', he says defensively. Todo and Yuji burst out in laughter. ''Just a classmate, huh?'' - Choso is not sure if he's lucky or unlucky that this group work is serious. The professor gives you tasks to do during the lessons and at home every single class. Choso is forced to spend time with you, which in theory he doesn't mind, but in reality... he's confused. He's not sure he likes you because he really likes you, or because you're the first person who's paid attention to him... ever. You're really pretty, you come up with great ideas for your shared project, and you speak with such confidence when the professor asks you to share your findings with the class. You'll even compliment his ideas and contributions, and it's the first time in a while he's felt proud and happy with himself. He distantly adores you, and somewhere within hopes he can learn something from you and be more like you.

You cross paths with him in the hallway one day, stopping by to say hi. You take note that this is the first time you've seen him with a group of friends. ''Have you heard from the other two classmates? We have to turn this report in but they haven't sent me anything yet.'', you comment.

''Oh, no I haven't talked to them.'', he says, his mind racing trying to come up with something to keep the conversation going. ''We can split up their parts and finish it before the deadline if you want.''

''Would you do that?'', you ask with a sparkle in your eyes. You didn't expect him to offer a practical solution, and you also didn't want to impose more work on him. You made peace with the fact that you're obviously the most ambitious of the group, and that if you want good grades, you'll have to take more of a burden than the rest.

''Yeah, of course.'', he nods.

''That would be amazing, Choso. Thank you.'', you sigh in relief and give him a short hug. He awkwardly hugs you back, not having expected this at all. You say your goodbyes and for a moment he just stands there, stunned that any of this happened at all. For once, he did good in an interaction with you! Todo grabs him by the collar, getting so close up into his face that Choso gets nervous.

''If you fumble this, I'll beat your fucking ass.''

He thinks about that hug when he lays in bed at night. You are of similar height to him, and he can't help but feel like you fit together like a puzzle. He wraps his hands around himself but he can't seem to replicate the warmth he felt with your hands on his back. Oh no. He's caught up in his head over a hug that couldn't have lasted more than a couple seconds. He thinks he really is in love.

-

Having a tight deadline lifted a giant weight off of Choso's shoulders. Usually he would have his part of the assignment ready, sometimes for days, before gathering the courage to send it to you. He will linger in your chat, or above a draft of an email, re-reading everything he's said a million times just to make sure there's no mistake and he didn't accidentally call you a bitch and wished for your family to die. But the inactivity of your other two colleagues puts him in a situation where he doesn't have time to overthink. He has to click that button. This ultimately helps him gather some courage when it comes to talking to you.

You complain to him one time as you walk out of class. ''I just feel like I'm the only one who cares about getting things done in this group.''

Choso stops in his tracks and when you turn to look at him, he looks devastated. There's a moment of silence as you open your mouth to backtrack on what you said, but Choso is quicker. ''I'm sorry. I'm not really good in taking initiative.'', he says, sounding almost shaky. ''But I'll do whatever you tell me to do.''

Anything?

-

This is not what he meant. Well, it is exactly what he meant, but just like with everything else involving you, he's not sure he's ready. He stands outside of your dorm room, hand in a fist, shaking above the door as he wills himself to knock. This is just another obstacle in his way that he needs to overcome if he plans to have anything to do with you after this class is over. He takes a deep breath, shakes the stress off of his shoulders and knocks.

''Hey!'', you open the door and smile. You hug him again, and he wonders if you're doing these things just to throw him into a frenzy.

He pulls away, trying to keep his smile contained. You take him to your room, small but cozy, well lit by the daylight. ''Wait, I'll get another chair.'', you say and scurry out of the room. ''Do you want something to drink?''

''No thanks.'', he replies, taking the time to soak up your room. There's photos of you, your friends, family, pets glued above your bed. Drawings, posters, figurines of characters you like on your desk. It just makes so much sense, it's so you. He knows it's not a big deal in reality, but Choso thinks there's a certain amount of intimacy involved in inviting someone to a place you call home. He feels honored.

''Cute room.'', he says and helps you as you drag the chair into the space. ''I like the pictures.''

''Oh yeah.'', you put your hands on your hips and look at the pictures solemnly. ''They help when I'm super in my feels about missing my family. Does that happen to you too?''

Choso scratches his hair. It's definitely too early to infodump about his insane family dynamics. ''My family situation is kind of complicated.'', he shakes his head and sits down at your desk.

''Sorry, I didn't mean to broach.'', you follow him, feeling bad that your small talk just took a depressing turn. Is this how Choso felt messing up every conversation with you in the beginning?

''It's fine. I have one brother here with me.'', he says, realizing if anything comes of this ever, you will come to the realization that the only two people he ever interacts with are his brother and his brother's... brother. ''It made things easier.''

''Ah, I'm jealous.'', you remark and pull out your laptop. You thought this struggle might be something Choso can relate with, considering the fact he's almost always alone every time you see him. ''I had a really hard time here at first.''

''Really? I never would have thought. You seem very well adjusted.'', he watches you intently, adoring your features while you shuffle around, untangling the charger.

''Oh no.'', you shake your head.

Your desk is small and collaborating on it requires you to sit a lot closer to each other than you normally do in class. You pay it no mind, but god knows Choso's thoughts are running laps in his poor little anxious brain. He forces himself to lock in.

You open your laptop and dig through dozens of tabs looking for the correct Canva template you picked out for the presentation. Choso nods his head, not really having any complaints over your choice, and even if he did, he wouldn't have the heart to voice them. You pick which topics each of you is going to cover and get working on your slides. He catches you stealing a glimpse of his screen every now and then.

''You know you can spy on me on your screen too?'', he says, feeling a little more confident in himself.

''Oh.'', you put the palm of your hand to your forehead. ''I was trying to figure out how you got them to stick together.'', you wave your finger at his screen, pointing at a collection of pictograms and other decorations that make a presentation visually pleasing.

''You can group them.'', Choso smirks at you, not sure if you're pretending to be incompetent to make him feel better. He watches you scramble around the screen looking for the group button, before he decides to help. ''Here.'', he reaches over, accidentally brushing your hand with his as he presses a couple buttons as a shortcut. Choso cursed himself internally, praying you would pay this little physical interaction no mind, but -

''Wait.'', you gently pry one of his fingers off the keyboard and examine it. ''I love your nails, how have I not noticed them before?''

''T-thanks...'', he gets flustered. You turn his finger from side to side, watching light reflect off the nail polish, touching and feeling the texture of it. He wonders if you know how long he will be thinking about this when he goes home. No, stop it, he needs to take control. ''Did you take note of the shortcut or were you too concentrated on my nails?''

''Obviously I did.'', you say, and proceed to hold the wrong two buttons that cause something completely different to happen in the presentation. This draws a laugh from the both of you, and Choso starts to feel relieved. Maybe he's not the only one who's paying attention to the wrong things out of the two of you.

-

You stand in the hallway, waiting for your professor and fidgeting with the papers in your hands. It's presentation day, and the fruit of your and Choso's labor will finally be graded, and then you'll be free to study for the exam.

''Are you scared of public speaking?'', you ask Choso, tapping your feet against the ground. He doesn't strike you as the most confident speaker in the world, and you think this may be another topic the two of you can relate on. You really want him to open up, but you worry you're starting to be overbearing.

''I'm scared of public everything.'', he wasn't exactly planning to be this honest, but the thought slipped through the filter. This class is coming to an end anyways, he's not sure he'll see you in any other classes and he might as well risk it all when he's at it already. Maybe it's time to shoot his shot.

''Awww, don't worry, your part is short and I'm sure you'll do great!'', you touch his shoulder and he freezes, instantly feeling blood rushing to his cheeks. ''Imagine it's just the two of us rehearsing like we did in my room.''

Luckily for Choso, the professor shows up and unlocks the classroom before he's expected to break it to you that imagining that makes it worse. He thinks a thousand presentations would scare him less than talking to you.

You're first in line for the presentation, so you're able to finish it quickly and get this baggage of your chest fast. You go back to your seats at the back of the class and have a long debrief. Your whispering warrants some critical looks from your professor and you're forced to turn away from each other and keep it together. The class draws to an end. Your professor announces everyone's grades after all the presentations are finished, and your group ends up ranking second on the list.

You grab and shake Choso in excitement, not having expected a result that good. When the short rush of euphoria fizzles out you catch him looking both scared and happy at the same time. You take note of this and decide to exploit it, letting go of him apologetically and instead putting your hand up for a high five. Choso hits it, and you take the opportunity to wrap your fingers between his, lowering your hand as you let go. Poor Choso can't do anything but give you a very confused look, but you choose to ignore it deliberately.

He waits for you as you pack your things. He's not really sure what to do, but he figures leaving without you might signal that he's not interested or you made him uncomfortable. You leave the class together and chat on your way back to the dorm, stopping where the path diverges to different buildings.

''Thank you for all the help, really. With this grade on the presentation I think we have more leeway to mess up the exam.'', you say, fidgeting with your hands and shifting your weight from one leg to another.

Wait, we?

''But we won't, of course. We can study together if you want?'', you bat your eyelashes. He's so cute when he's all flushed and confused. You begin to imagine how flushed he's going to be when you finally kiss him -

''Um, of course. I-I'd like that.'', he says, struggling to look you in the eyes.

You decide you've played with him enough for today... just one last thing. ''Okay! I'll text you.'', you hug him again, resting your chin against his shoulder and letting yourself linger there for a moment. You feel him stiffen up in anticipation, and then slowly relax as he hugs you back, his movements unsure. You let go first and look at him shortly, noting the curious look in his eyes.

He finds it so hard to look away as you say you'll see him around and walk away. He takes a couple steps in the direction of his dorm, but finds himself looking back at you.

When he comes home he spends what feels like hours laying on his bed, overthinking everything you've done that day. Do people do that to people they're not into? Look at them with such intensity, linger in any situation that includes physical contact, expressing so much gratitude in conversations. He doesn't really have a lot of friendships to compare this to. Maybe it's a regular thing friends do. Maybe you just feel comfortable around him, and if he says anything he'll ruin the connection you've made. This is the first friend he's made since... Todo? And Todo is only his friend by proxy. Does he really want to risk ruining this? Would he rather have you as a friend and bear the heaviness in his chest every day, is that better than putting it all on red and maybe not having anything to do with you again as a result?

He gets up to make something to eat, dumping something frozen into the pan and leaning on the counter as the oil starts to sizzle. What if you do like him though? And he doesn't do anything because he's too scared, and then you lose interest and your dynamic changes. How is he supposed to know? Someone more experienced than him would probably be able to make sense of these signals better than him, but...

''What's that smell?''

Choso flings his hand out to turn the stovetop off before any of his two roommates get into his business, but that's practically impossible in this house.

''What's up with you lately? I thought you finished that presentation today.'', Yuji says as he flaps a kitchen rag around to dissipate the smoke.

Choso looks at Yuji and then at Todo, who for once isn't paying attention. That should make this embarrassing confession easier. ''Can we talk in private?'', he mouths to Yuji silently, and his little brother understands the assignment.

They sit on Choso's bed and without any introduction Choso proceeds to reenact the high five you've given him in class.

Yuji's mouth droops and he narrows his eyes. ''So it's like that...'', he says, rubbing his chin.

''What does that mean?'', Choso asks with a desperation in his voice that he hates to hear.

Sadly for him, Yuji is not much more experienced than him in these situations. It seems like struggling to recognize social cues runs in the family. ''I think we should ask Todo.''

''No he's going to make fun of me!!!'', Choso complains, feeling beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead.

''No he won't, trust me. Todo takes things like this very seriously, come on.'', Yuji grabs his forearm and drags him back to their common area, forcing him to sit next to Todo.

''Brother we have a serious situation on our hands.'', Yuji says, pulling Todo's earplugs out. ''Show him Choso.'', he extends his hand and allows Choso to demonstrate.

''BROTHER!'', Todo flinches upon seeing the gesture, grabbing Choso by the shoulders and looking deeply into his eyes. ''It's a sign. I told you if you fumble this I'll beat your ass.''

Choso thinks about the previous time you grasped his hand. It cannot be an accident. ''What do I do?'', he asks.

''You need to play the game. You have to instigate the next time.'', Todo talks with his hands.

Obviously, it all comes down to him making a move. But the anxiety he starts to feel when he thinks about it makes him wonder if it's really worth it. ''What do you suggest?'', he asks.

''Well, I don't know. You have to be strategic, pay attention, take advantage of any opportunity. And it has to be natural.'', says Todo, counting with his fingers.

Choso sighs. Nothing about flirting or instigating physical contact... or anything about this situation is natural to him. He's naturally awkward and stiff and not good with people. ''I'm not good at this.'', he rubs his hand against his face.

''Obviously.'', says Todo with a mild annoyance in his voice. He always was very irritated with people who weren't good in romantic situations.

''Alternatively, since they already took the lead, you can just follow along and try to be enthusiastic enough so they don't give up.'', says Yuji.

Todo turns his attention to him. ''Where did you learn all these big words?''

''I listened to a TED talk.''

''Come over here and I'll make your ted talk.''

The two go on to play fight, and Choso stays on the couch, taking a moment to let this life advice sink in.

He puts his hangs together that night, wrapping his fingers around each other, tracing back the feeling of your hand against his. Your hair tickling his nose and your arms around his back. He doesn't remember the last time he was hugged so gently. Oh, he wants you bad. Not even in a dirty, possessive way, no, he's pathetic, he just wants to hold your hand again, hold you or be held by you. He wants to be wanted so badly, and you gave him a glimmer of hope that such a thing is not just a figment of his imagination, but a very real possibility.

-

The next time you two meet, he does his best to be proactive. He leans into the hug as he greets you, making sure he's not just standing there and taking it like he usually does.

''I hope you didn't cheat and start studying earlier.'', you give him a look as you set your things down on the library table. Your exam is in two days, and you've both decided to wait for the last moment to start studying. It's not the first time the two of you are doing something last minute after all.

''Me?'', he furrows his brows and you win a smile from him. ''I don't think I would've passed this class if it wasn't for you.''

''I'm hearing that I'm your favorite classmate.'', you shoot him a playful look above your laptop screen.

Choso freezes at this remark, his friend's word echoing through his head. Be strategic. Pay attention. Take advantage of the opportunity. ''You... d-do have that effect on people.'', he says and ducks his blushing face under the screen of his laptop.

''People?.'', you giggle. You wished.

''Me... me included.'', Choso corrects himself quickly, feeling the attitude in your voice.

God, this boy is submissive. ''That's good to hear.'', you say.

You both dig into the work, being quiet for the most part. At the end of the day, you make a plan for the next couple of days. You've done plenty of work today, so tomorrow you'll meet at your place to go over everything together, and the day after tomorrow you won't study anything at all. That's what you said, at least.

-

Choso wishes he could say he felt more confident knocking on your door for the second time. But as easy as he's started to feel around you, he can't ignore the feeling of impending doom. You're going to open the door. The sun is going to set. You're going to take the exam, and then the class is going to be over. He's running out of time, and he's trying his best not to crack under the societal pressure of having to be the one to make the final move.

You open the doors, and greet each other with a hug as you do according to your little tradition. You take him to your room, grab your papers and sit on the bed. Choso sets his things down by your desk.

''You can sit on the bed, silly.'', you tell him. ''That chair is a butt killer and we have a lot to go over.''

''In outside clothes?'', he asks.

''I have to wash the sheets anyways.''

''Sure...'', he pretends to be nonchalant about this development. He joins you, sitting on the other end of the bed and sinking into the soft mattress.

''Want a pillow?'', you say and reach behind you to remove one pillow from the mountain you're leaned against.

''Thanks, I'm fine.''

He's so sweet and careful. He never asks for anything. ''I'll double check that attitude in a couple hours when you turn into a pretzel.'', you say, winning a smile from him. ''Should we start?''

You spend the following hours going over the professors presentations, discussing and explaining things to each other. Choso almost forgets he's supposed to be stressed about confessing his feelings, but now is just not the time. It's going too well. What is a good time to confess anyways?

The two of you come to the conclusion that you've underestimated this exam. Out of energy for the day, you invite Choso to go get coffee and finish the remaining work tomorrow. Obviously he agrees. Everything is so easy when he's too focused on being in the moment with you. The second you say goodbye and he leaves, that feeling of doom comes back.

-

It follows him into the next day, and he can't shake the stress off as he gets dressed to go out to meet you. He feels a static buzzing through his body, his hands are cold and shaky and he looks as tired as ever. He looks at himself in the mirror before he leaves the house and he can't help but see contempt in his gaze. Is he really this useless and socially incompetent? He hates himself now, he can't imagine how much he'll hate himself later if he doesn't do anything. No, he has to say somehing. He leaves the room in a bad mood.

The two of you get coffee and decide the place is too busy to get your work done there, so naturally you take Choso back to your room. You join him on your bed again, this time being able to convince Choso to put a pillow between his back and the wall. He sits with his knees to his chest, and as you advance in revising for the exam you notice he's quite fidgety today, clicking his pen and scratching polish off his nails. He did warn you that he wasn't feeling his best, but you haven't noticed it manifesting until now.

''Are you okay Choso? You seem kind of stressed.'', you ask.

He can only fathom a short look at you and then back at the papers he set up on his thighs. ''Yeah.''

You crawl a little closer to him, letting go of your materials as the conversation steers away from university work. ''I don't think there's anything to worry about regarding the exam. We've got the majority of the content covered, plus the presentation points should add up.''

There's a silence from his side, and he looks like he's fighting some serious emotions back. ''Well, you can also tell me if it's something else. If you want to.''

''I'm just getting in my head.'', he says quietly, shaking his head. He's trying his hardest to pretend he's not freaking out by how much closer you've come to him.

Your crawl your fingers closer to his hand, testing waters before you touch it. ''Is it your family?''

Choso gives you a meaningful glance through his bangs. You need to get off his case now or he thinks he's going to crack. ''It's nothing.''

You crawl a little closer, placing your other hand on his knee and gaging his reaction as you rest your chin on the other one. ''Your roommates?'', you ask, your thumb massaging a circle into his hand.

Choso wants to sink into the wall behind him. You're way too close for comfort, but he's also kind of been begging god that you take things into your own hands so he doesn't have to. ''N-no.'', he says, cheeks burning up and his eyes threatening to tear up.

''What is it then? Is it me?'', you ask, searching for answers in his tired eyes. Then it occurs to you that maybe it is you, you're all up in his face and you already know he's quite closed off in this regard. ''Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.''

''No!'', Choso jumps up. There's a moment of awkward silence as you try to gage if he protested you leaving his proximity or your insinuation that you're the problem. Or both? ''It's not you... but it also is you, kind of.'', he says, grabbing his hands together and looking for something, anything to play with, picking his nails apart now that he's already scratched all the polish off. He looks at you with a kind of terror you're not really sure you've ever seen in someone's eyes before. There's a silence has he fights to put his thoughts into words.

''Care to elaborate?'', you ask and smile, trying to signal you'll stand by your words and listen to anything he has to say.

''You... you scare me, but you're also very kind to me... and I always have such a good time when we're together, and sometimes you confuse me...'', Choso rambles, his voice getting shaky. ''And I'm not sure if it's because I'm not usually... I don't - these situations don't really happen to me -''

''Choso.'', you take his hand again, leaning in closer and this time he responds, allowing his fingers to move against yours. ''Do you like me?''

He looks at you, and then down at your hands, unable to withstand any more eye contact as his eyes well up with tears. ''Yeah.'', he says quietly, almost with shame, like he's your child and you're scolding him for something he shouldn't have done. But finally he's said it, and no matter what you do next, momentarily he is freed from the burden of holding that information all to himself. And with this thought, a tear drops from his eye.

''No Choso... It's okay...'', you say in an apologetic noise, letting go of his hand and reaching for his face instead. You want to tell him not to cry, because on the surface there's no reason to cry - you're not going to shame him or make fun of him. But you also don't want him to think it's something he can't do around you. You wipe his tears and wrap your arms around him, pulling him to rest his head on the space between your neck and shoulders. ''I'm sorry, I shouldn't have played with your feelings. I wanted to make this fun and flirty, I didn't know you were having such a hard time interpreting my signals.'', you rub one hand up and down his back, the other one rests in his hair. ''If I had known I would've been more direct.''

You pull him away now, cupping his face in your hands. ''Can you forgive me for that?'', you ask, looking into his eyes.

You really don't get it, do you? He would forgive you anything. ''O-of course...'', his brain and body freeze as your face inches closer, hands sliding down from his face to his shoulders.

''Jesus, Choso.'', you pull back a little bit. ''I want to kiss you not eat you alive, can you loosen up a bit?'', your hands work into the stiff muscles above his collar bones. He straightens up and shakes his arms, watching you in anticipation.

You lean back into him, your face so close that he can feel the warmth of your breath as you exhale. You're still massaging him, but your movements are expanding, moving closer to his neck and dipping into his back. ''Are you okay? Do you want this?'', you ask. He nods frantically in response.

You take his hands and put them on your shoulders, noticing he's fidgeting and unsure what to do with them. Then you reach back to him, one of your hands moving behind his neck, the other guiding his face. You plant a kiss on his cheek first, and you feel his grip on you tighten. His cheeks are flushed, skin warm against your lips as you move closer to his mouth. You glance at him one more time, making sure he hasn't backed out. His eyes flutter closed as you pull his chin closer, guiding his lips to yours.

You're slow at first, savoring every moment of Choso's shaky lips against yours. They're so soft, despite his raggedy appearance, he appears to takes good care of himself. You feel his hands trace up your neck to your face, fingertips light against your skin, as if he's scared of applying too much pressure. You slowly depart from the kiss, playfully catching his bottom lip between your teeth for a second before releasing. "Good?", you ask, lingering close and looking into his eyes.

Choso is on cloud nine. His cheeks blend in with his reddish eyeshadow and he looks at you with longing that has finally been satisfied. He can't help the smile that spreads across his face and he ducks his head shyly, nodding in agreement with your question.

You take his feedback as a cue to continue, leaning back into his face and pressing your lips against his. You take initiative to deepen the kiss, softly prodding your tongue into his mouth. The smacking of your tandem wins a small moan from Choso, the raw little noise traveling straight to your core. You part from him again, taking a moment to observe his face, tracing his features slowly with your eyes.

Choso feels nervousness creeping back into him, feeling quite vulnerable and self aware in this moment. He searches for approval in your eyes. You smile when you finally trace your stare back up to him, caressing his face with your thumb.

"Will you be able to focus tomorrow?", you prod at him, planting another short kiss to his lips. He's so cute when he's worked up like this. You can't help but wonder what he's going to be like when you take it a step further, kissing him deeper and letting your hands wonder beyond his face, neck and shoulders. You must admit you're already tempted to try, but seeing Choso's reaction at something as small as a soft kiss on the lips, you think it's better to give him space to process this and take things slow.

"I don't know... will I be able to focus today?", he asks, sparing a glance to the papers scattered across your bed.

"With this out of the way... you better.", you say, pretending to be strict with him. It seems to work on him somehow. Then you take his copy of the papers and shove it back in his hands. "Should we get this over with too?"

-

You meet Choso before the exam the following day. You kiss him on the cheek and give him a hug, so as not to arouse any suspicion in your classmates before you've had the chance to discuss your situation among yourselves.

He's as stiff as ever as you hug him, and if you didn't know he's also stressing over the exam you would've scolded him for still being so tense around you. ''You ready?'', you ask, rubbing his back.

He nods, still struggling to hold eye contact with you. ''Strange. It went by so fast.'', he says, staring into the distance instead.

''Are you getting sentimental over a class? Or the fact you won't be seeing me every other day?'', you ask, putting him on the spot. You wouldn't be you if you didn't test his boundaries at least a little bit.

''Ah... um, well, you obviously...'', he says, slightly confused by the implication that he won't be seeing you.

''We can see each other outside of class too, you know.'', you shrug.

''Well umm... yeah, I hope so...'', Choso scratches his head. ''I was gonna su''

He is cut off by the sudden chatter of your classmates, who were first to see the professor arriving down the hallway.

''Well, good luck classmate.'', you slap his back affectionately and wink at him. ''I'll see you for drinks after.''

[sukunasweetheart]

double the kisses, for the double-faced specter!

synopsis: you bring trueform sukuna to a different plain of existence when you make him see stars with powerful orgasms, evoked purely with only soft kisses and feathery touches as you love every inch of his body. he's been plenty worshipped before. just not like this.

word count: 4.4k

tags; prostitution, reader is a courtesan, trueform sukuna visits a brothel out of boredom, bodyworship m!receiving, edging, lots of kisses and lots of cum, yes he is double dicked, yes he whimpers, submissive?sukuna a tiny bit but also not really, worshipping turned into rough sex, sukuna is a virgin before all this btw, canon-typical sukuna, choking, mentions of cannibalism, assault (not by sukuna), murder and violence but not towards reader, kidnapping, gets slightly comedic at the end.

author's notes; sukuna is quite indifferent to the feeling of pain and bodily harm because he's quite used to being attacked, no? but what of the opposite? I have come with the idea of sukuna being hypersensitive to the gentlest of touches rather than inflictions of pain 🙋‍♀️🙋‍♀️ warning for not being historically accurate at all, i'm just going off purely with my heart and horniness!

the double-faced specter.

in other names, ryomen sukuna, they call him. who cares for his true name? certainly no one in this era. not even himself. he goes by whatever the crowds call him, for he has never believed it truly mattered what he was called.

the people also refer to him as a calamity. aimless, yet destructive, sukuna wanders from place to place, destroying those he wishes to, eating those he wishes to, gripping at simple pleasures well within his reach.

ah, how free. how careless. you'd think he lives the most wonderful life, to be envied by others. but in reality, he finds himself drowning in utter boredom. when he's not slaughtering people, when he's not devouring-- sukuna is ever so aimless, ever so alone, and ever so bored.

when he roams the towns as he pleases, people are terrified, but he pays them no mind. at the best of times, he finds no interest in personally tormenting such weaklings. they are akin to insects to him.

there are many things sukuna has experimented with, to try and cure his never-ending boredom.

focusing on his strength, honing the mastery of his cursed technique, eating whatever he'd liked, physical training, testing his own strength and new moves against various sorcerers. sometimes, killing and toying with particularly strong cursed spirits. resorting to terrorising villages, even being worshipped by humans from time to time. but in the end, none of the entertainment really lasted as long as he wished it would.

while wandering this town, he walks past a brothel.

it makes him pause for a moment. there is one thing that he hasn't really explored before.

lust. does he even possess such a thing?

he's never really desired a person, never looked at a body and perceived whether they were attractive to him or not. but from what he's observed from humans, the men are particularly obsessive over the idea of women, and the pleasures they bring. even now, he cannot muster the desire for sexual satisfaction. but he can change it into something else.

a wicked grin blossoms upon his sinister features. how about a little game?

upon his entrance, the owner of the brothel sweats. all of the women fall to their knees and bow, as the specter brings a terrifying atmosphere to the crowd with his presence alone. his aura seeps through like a poison, and silence permeates the building with not a whisper to be audible.

sukuna, out of pure jest and cruelty, brings the owner a deal.

"i'll tell you what. if any of you are able to please me tonight, i shall spare the village. if not... i will kill every human in this town, including yourselves."

there won't be a soul left to tell the tale. he isn't expecting any of them to succeed.

with a trembling frame, sukuna is offered any woman of his choosing, free of charge. the ladies are ordered to stand, as he cannot see their faces with them bowing on the ground.

his bored, four eyes search for something to intrigue him. the women avoid his gaze, pleading in their minds to not be selected. it is obvious to the naked eye. they fear losing their lives to him.

there is one woman, who appears to be eagerly locking eyes with him, a brazen kind of yearning, pupils wide and glossy.

it catches him so off-guard, it almost makes him laugh.

he beckons you forth with a finger.

and so, you are the one to lead him to a separate room, where you will either create the town's demise, or grant him a worthwhile experience. with his absence, the other courtesans fall into hushed, worried whispers.

"i have heard of you, my lord. from rumours on the streets. from drawings of the terrified children of the townsfolk. stories of how you are a man-eating monster."

he doesn't reply, only taking a seat on top of the futon laid out in the middle of the room. he only thinks about how you are quite the bold woman, conversing as you please with him. but he finds that this is better than those who do nothing but cower at his feet.

"in this dull life as a courtesan, my sole source of excitement came from the stories surrounding you... and you are as ethereal as i had imagined."

sukuna scoffs.

"you have quite the way around your words. but flattery won't save you, should you bore me tonight. i'm only here to pass the time, i care not for your pointless chatter."

"i apologise. i shall not keep you waiting further. may i take the lead? may i touch you as i please, and speak while doing so?"

three questions at once. it makes him twitch with slight irritation. but he leaves it be.

"you may for now. try to entertain me," he replies.

with a gaze akin to that of an aloof and bored cat looking down at it's prey, sukuna watches your every movement as you work under his pressure.

It starts off tame enough.

he appears nonchalant, even with your crimson dyed lips, even as you climb into his lap as he's sat crossed legged on the futon. you begin your mindless chatter once again. things about how much you admire him, and whatnot. he isn't really paying attention to it. through one ear, out the other.

but your voice gets quieter and softer, less audible. in turn, you get closer to him, while the conversation itself also shifts into something more erotic.

you start commenting on the hyper specific parts of his body in a poetic sense, and you whisper all these details into ear. you observe his body, commenting on his skin and muscles, the tattoos inked into them.

sukuna plays you off like he doesn't care for it, but his ear twitches after your every sentence, like a bodily reflex he cannot control. your hands are tender and leave wisps of touches across his skin and you leave a small kiss on the area under his ear lobe. his black haori is pulled off of his shoulders, and is laid carefully off the futon.

it triggers something in him, and suddenly all of his goosebumps slowly rise across his four arms, which hasn't happened since-- god knows how long. he hadn't realised this kind of sensory response still existed within his body.

your kisses don't stop there. oh no, this is far from being over. you go down his neck. soft, gentle, ghost-like kisses. warm, and ever so slow. sukuna swallows nothing and his adam's apple bobs up and down, and his nonchalant demeanor starts cracking away. you blow some gentle air against the skin on his neck and revel in the way he slightly shudders, his hands aching to put a stop to you. but he doesn't. because that would mean admitting you were indeed doing something to him.

"is this your first time, my lord?" you ask in a gentle voice.

"please let me know if you'd like me to stop at any time."

sukuna cannot muster the energy to form a proper sentence in his head, let alone respond to your every question.

continuing on, you reach the collar bone, the shoulder, down his muscular arms. nothing gets missed by you. and sukuna can see every kiss mark left behind by you, your crimson lip print scattering around his body like petals showered down upon him. you hold his hand in yours so tenderly, and then you leave a kiss on the top of it.

"may i get you lying on your back, my lord?" you gradually bring up, eyes staring into his with plea he cannot seemingly refuse.

he reluctantly lets himself be slowly pushed into a lying position on the futon, limbs sprawled out. you subvert his expectations of continuing where you left off, and you trap his head between your arms instead, looming over him and casting your shadow across his face. this is an unbelievable deed. he has never had any human look down at him like this before. their heads flew off before they could even try.

however, you wear a compassionate smile on your face, exuding nothing but yearning and adoration. something about your expression was also timid, careful, cautious even, searching his face for signs of displeasure. it doesn't feel so terrible being looked down at by you.

as baggy as his hakama pants are, they still feel strained against his two cocks that are poking up despite him lying down in this position.

your hand, small and delicate compared to his, slides up against his wrist, and then intertwines fingers with his own hand. your face looms closer, and his focus lies solely on those lips of yours, the source of all his pleasure. they press up against the right side of his face. he takes in a breath.

you leave a mark on his cheek. the corner of his lip - dangerously close. his chin, and jawline. on his adam's apple.

painstakingly slow. deliberate pacing. so soft, it feels almost non-existent, even-- and yet, it does so much for him. too much, even. what the hell is this? what kind of sorcery are you using?

you leave another trail of kisses downwards, past his chest, down his abs, and then--

his large mouth on the stomach. he almost forgets about it, from the way you, without flinching, smooth your hand across the lower lip, and kiss it all the same, leaving yet another small print on it all the same. his lower mouth twitches in response, but remains still, tempted to let its tongue out and taste you, but also somehow not wanting to ruin this momentum. he wants you- he yearns you to venture lower.

your dainty hands gently tug away at his pants. they slide lower and lower, the large man lifts his hips slightly to aid your pulling.

his two, fully erect cocks spring upwards, oozing precum and throbbing uncontrollably before your eyes. you maintain composure, and without another reaction, you continue your path of kisses. his lower abdomen. thighs. and then his groins. so close, yet so far.

your hands smooth around his hips, then circle his inner thighs. close, but never actually touching his aching erections. but your lips inch closer. sukuna has never felt his heartbeat down there before. it feels like he's about to burst.

your mouth finally touches where his balls are. still soft, still ever so tenderly. your crimson lip prints are left behind, even on here. his cocks give another strong twitch as you do so, and for the first time, sukuna lets out a wonderful groan, something akin to even like a whimper.

that darn mouth of yours dares to keep going. advancing forth. ghosting kisses around the base of his cock. gently.

up, up, up... veins bulge out of the dick you choose to focus on. it pulses against your skin. heavy. precum now dribbling down the side of it. you get a small taste as you make your way further towards the tip.

sukuna grips tight at the futon below him. one of his arms casted over his eyes, covering them up. this foreign pleasure consuming him. the first time where he isn't the one doing the devouring.

your eyes blink with excitement, when you reach the golden spot. the weakness of almost every man. your puckered lips graze against the spot underneath, where the glans meet.

with a choked off gasp turned into a deep groan, the king of curses reaches his first orgasm.

both of his cocks erupt into climax, shooting rope after rope of thick, cum into the air, landing onto his stomach and chest. you gently hold both of them down, making sure the spurts didn't reach further than the man's chest, out of consideration to save him the humiliation of any landing on his face.

the amount is grossly large. it continues for much longer than the average man you have served by far. his dicks throb hard under your touch as you hold them down with your gentle touch, as spurt after spurt shoots out onto his stomach.

sukuna's chest heaves. his hips jolt every now and then. embarrassment doesn't even cross his mind, not when this newfound pleasure sends high doses of dopamine to his brain, bringing a sense of satisfaction he has never felt before. unlocking another potential activity to indulge in, another way to "pass the time" until his death.

after his high ends and the intense pleasure ebbs away somewhat, he senses you move up again, and your mouth lands on his lower abdomen, allowing him no time to recover properly. not a spare moment to feel humiliated from cumming all over himself.

groins still burning with arousal, he watches you as you gracefully lean down to lick, slurp up his spilled spend from his own skin. such an act of servitude and devotion. he's been plenty worshipped before.

but not like this.

soft licks. occasional sucking. and then swallowing. you keep it up until his stomach and chest are completely cleared of his own cum.

his erections are far from soft, unsatiated and unsatisfied. pulsing with need. throbbing. twitching.

he had started this whole thing in jest, expecting to end the night with massacre, as per his playful little "deal" with the brothel's owner. and yet...

when your face reaches his once again, as you hover above his body still, boldly looking down, sukuna notices the sweat on the sides of your temples, and your ruined, smudged lipstick. the colour almost faded, parts smeared messily onto the corner of your lips.

"are you alright, my lord?" you ask, sweetly. after everything, after you forced an unthinkable noise out of him just now, you have the audacity to ask about his wellbeing.

somehow, that irks him.

he reaches out his hand towards your face, and you are taken by surprise when his thumb tenderly rubs away the smudged crimson away. the gentle act doesn't last for long however, as he then squeezes your cheeks together.

"clothes off. now," he demands, looking at you with a sharp look in his eyes. why is he the only one stripped naked here?

you oblige, beginning to strip yourself down layer by layer, all while sitting on top of the man without realising how impertinent it was of you, out of your own excitement. you stiffen on the spot as sukuna sits up again, and all of a sudden ripping whatever control you had out of your hands.

"you're quite brave. using me as a seat twice in a row now," he voices dangerously. out of growing impatience, he rips apart the rest of your layers using brute force.

"please forgive my insolence," you voice timidly, feeling yourself getting smaller as he tosses the material to the side, grabs hold of your wrist and pulls your nude vessel closer to his, making you feel the throb of his cocks with your bare cunt.

"turning me into a canvas for your lips. making a mess out of me..."

you share heated eye contact with him, and your heart flutters like it has never before. how can a man so monstrous be so divine and beautiful?

"there's still one spot i haven't kissed yet," you voice quietly.

"i'm aware."

sukuna wins the race against you, and kisses you before you could do it to him. your lips part, and welcome his tongue inside, savouring his taste and warmth.

as you're consumed by his kiss, sukuna overloads your senses with his other appendages, all four of his hands finding a spot on your body to caress. one wrapped around your waist. one groping the swell of your chest. one resting against your windpipe. and another still wrapped tight against your wrist.

something hot and slimy reaches out and inches up your stomach as well. it's the massive tongue from that lower mouth of his. you grow breathless from his kiss, trying escape to get some air into your lungs, but you can only manage to make a few gasps before he pulls you back in to continue sucking on your tongue.

your mind and body feel so overwhelmed.

you're suddenly pushed onto your back, landing against the soft futon. his shadow is as three times larger than yours, and it overtakes your whole vessel.

his tongue slithers up against your pussy, and you whine as lines himself up at your entrance.

"it's this hole, isn't it?" he asks, his tip brushing up and down your plenty lubricated slit.

"y-yes..." you tell him, trembling from excitement.

it's a tight squeeze at first. despite your experiences with countless other men, your hole is still barely able to contain all of him inside, clamping nicely around his cock. it's his lower dick that enters you, the second one bobbing above your stomach. his large tongue continues to lull outside of the mouth, licking at your cunt and adding more saliva to it as extra lubricant.

the man above you groans quietly, enjoying your warm glove of a pussy around his thick cock. one hand interlocks with yours. the other rests beside your head to keep himself balanced above you. his full body weight would crush your bones, after all.

his third hand roams your skin, groping you as it pleases. teasing your nipple whenever he desires. and sukuna uses the final hand to slowly stroke his second cock up and down.

when he begins thrusting, it pushes all the air out of your lungs, and makes you let out desperate moans of pleasure. he starts at a deliberate pace, slowly but steady, as a means of loosening you up. your slick oozes out of you and forms a creamy ring around his base, coating his cock completely. he grunts above you, expression strained from the pleasure, unknowingly slowly speeding himself up.

it reaches so deep. nobody's come knocking at your cervix in this manner before. you're on strong medications and even rituals to prevent pregnancy, but even then you feel as though his seed will take purely through brute force.

his hands change positions again.

two gripping your hips tight to thrust better, more precisely, one placed at your throat, while the last continues to stroke his second cock above you.

your eyes water. the hand on your neck is searing hot. just enough pressure to make itself known, but not enough to make you stop breathing. something about the threatening gesture only adds to your pleasures. your hands wrap around the one choking you lovingly, your face breaking into an open mouthed smile.

his balls slap heavily against your ass. sukuna groans again, inching closer to his second orgasm with each thrust. your cunt is so sloppy and so wet, there's cream sticking to his balls and around his pubic bone area, becoming stringy whenever he draws his cock out of you.

nearing his climax, he leans down closer to you, sweating, hand going up and down faster on his other dick. you take this opportunity to wrap your arms around the man's neck, and pull him in for a kiss without permission. your fingers trail down to his back, and then you begin shifting your kiss downwards, to suck and kiss around his neck area.

the hand that had been wrapped around your neck has to release you, and sukuna uses that arm to steady himself above you.

he's close...

precum dribbling from his cock that's missing out from being inside you, sukuna feels simultaneous satisfaction and also mild frustration. can he fit them both in you next time?

next time. he's already subconsciously thinking about doing this again with you.

"damn woman... i'm gonna--" sukuna grunts, closing his eyes and shuddering as you incessantly kiss around his collar bone.

a hand that had been gripping on your hip moves up to grab your face instead, prying you off his neck. it holds you still as he leans forward to press his lips on yours, just before you can release a disappointed whimper.

you feel his heavy breathing, your brain struggling to comprehend anything by now, only doing nothing but receive the overwhelming pleasure this man pumps into you like no other has done. his whole body is a weapon, both out on the battlefield, and in the sheets alike.

sukuna's thrusting abruptly stutters, and then you feel him pressing deep into you with a throb, before something hot and thick comes spurting into your womb, and also onto your stomach and chest.

sukuna curses against your lips, but doesn't pull away as he continues to rub his tongue into yours, his hand that had been jerking himself off slowing down finally, as both of his cocks become a faucet for his cum, spilling endlessly in and outside of you. the tension that had been building up in your own abdomen finally snaps and you also give a silent choked off gasp as you tremble with your orgasm, cunt clenching around him while doing so.

he groans into your lips, and his balls continue to drain empty, the pleasure spreading all throughout his body, making him jolt against you.

by the time he separates his mouth from yours, the taste of him has embedded itself onto your tongue, and you're in a haze while he finally pulls himself out of you, both cocks pulsing lightly as he lets them rest on top of the mess that's left behind on your stomach.

"with that, i've completed my payback," sukuna chuckles deeply above you, a hand slicking back his hair, along with the sweat that had been on his forehead.

"... thank you... very much..." you offer with a small voice, still recovering from the experience.

"what're you thanking me for? i'm not done yet," sukuna tells you with a raised eyebrow.

you look down and see that he is still far from settled.

"my second cock is aching for a taste of you," he confesses, giving it another stroke.

you oblige, being only happy that this blissful night is far from being over.

sukuna pulls you up abruptly into his arms, and then sits down on the futon, lifting you high before aiming his second dick towards your pussy. you brace yourself, as he sinks you down on top of him.

you almost pass out when his tongue reaches the shell of your ear as you take him in whole, once again.

the night is still young.

it has been several weeks since then.

returning to your usual work, serving and entertaining other men, you're finding that the sex is so much more lacking compared to what you had shared with that person that fateful night. on more than one occasion, you had touched yourself with him in your mind, as these lackluster customers and their less-than-ideal sizes couldn't hold a candle to what he did to your body.

and on this day, your dissatisfaction seemed to slip through some cracks, causing one of your regular customers to strike you across the face, leaving a bad handprint on your cheek.

"damn whore...! i paid good money for you!"

you're getting sick of this. this same, repetitive life. if you were to die anyway, then you wished you could've done so that night with him, rather than this filthy noble.

the noble grabs your face and sneers, messily tugging your clothes away. but suddenly, both of you pause when a large ruckus can be heard outside, with the sound of people screaming, and then eerie silence. heavy footsteps approach the door.

when it slams open, sukuna is greeted with the distasteful sight of some insect grabbing hold of you. already in a bad mood as he's displayed with all the bloodshed outside, he narrows his eyes and tries to sigh out this deep irritation within his gut.

somehow, he had forgotten along the way that your job was pleasuring men. with that realisation, it made him come stomping back all the way here.

the king of curses had left the brothel without another word, sparing the village of destruction. a deal is a deal, after all. and you did such a phenomenal job of killing his time. he'd returned to roaming the lands elsewhere, chasing the usual adrenaline of bloodshed and battle-- but with your lips and your cunt on his mind.

craving your body every night. he spent every moment conscious wishing that he did more with you before leaving, if he knew this were to happen.

it was a bit bothersome, but eventually he made his way back. only to be met with this mess of a situation.

there's an obvious handprint on your face, and the scum's hand is still gripping onto your clothes.

"you have no business striking what's mine. begone."

sukuna hadn't even finished his sentence when the noble suddenly dispersed into cubes, turning into a blood pile of flesh on the floor. his blood splatters all over you and you're left in shock but also a twinge of satisfaction from seeing the disgusting man dead in the blink of an eye.

"tch. i should've kicked him away before doing that," sukuna comments as he crouches down to look at you, his eyebrows furrowing together in annoyance, "now his blood's stained you."

being pent up is making him act without thinking. his large hands wipe away whatever's on your face, not addressing your shock or bothering to explain why he's returned.

"strip," he orders you, suddenly.

you get up with a slight stumble and do as you are told, ridding yourself of these bloodied layers until you are nude.

"good. you haven't been marked elsewhere," he hums.

that comment makes you realise your face had stopped stinging after he'd wiped the blood away earlier.

sukuna grabs the still clean futon from the room and quickly wraps you up with it, before hoisting you up onto his shoulder, making you gasp with surprise.

"wh-where are you taking me...?" you ask, still puzzled by the whole situation.

"why? not willing to come?"

you stare at the bloody pile of fleshy cubes on the tatami flooring.

"no... please, take me away," you say with a soft plea.

"then, be obedient and come along quietly."

"yes sir."

on the way out, you see all the dead bodies scattered down the hallway. when he exits the building with you, you finally breathe in the air clear from the stench of blood and relax against his shoulder.

"we'll find a suitable kimono for you along the way, somewhere. be still until then. you don't need something fancy, do you?" he asks sarcastically. he's already thinking about how to play with you later on. it's been too long.

"not at all...my lord."

you have no clue where he's taking you, or what this calamity of a man is planning to do with you. but whatever he does, you are thrilled to be on the receiving end of it, be it compassion or malevolence.

you can only hope he allows you to shower him with kisses once again.

Masterlist

[suguruss1ut]

no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower

[yenayaps]

found ur man @madamechrissy

[winterrbluess]

First post of the year with f1 Sukuna

[to00fu]

didnt watch heated rivalry but i like this particular photo

[ma0chi77]

[kenjakusbraincum]

hi people!! i took a bit of a hiatus since ive been more focused on my original work rather than writing about sukuna (still as in love with him as ever though) :)) how is everyone doing?

im broke, unemployed, still havent finished university and mentally in a shithole, but its been nice reminiscing about how put together my life was in my prime when i was also regularly posting here

[kenjakusbraincum]

this is very ooc for me but i dreamed about nanami

[kenjakusbraincum]

that being said does anyone have nanami fic recs

[kenjakusbraincum]

this is very ooc for me but i dreamed about nanami

[w0rm3y]

Malevolence In Spring- R. Sukuna

TAGS: Hades!Sukuna x Persephone!Reader, arranged marriage, forced proximity, kidnapping, True Form!Sukuna, Husband!Sukuna

OVERALL WARNINGS: MDNI, extreme violence, graphic depictions of death, blood, body horror, physical torture, psychological torture, Stockholm Syndrome, Lima Syndrome, manipulation, toxicity, cannibalism, suicide, blood kink, spit kink, breeding kink, biting kink, size kink, monster-fucking (That man is a monster, like actually), S&M, marking, stomach/belly bulges THIS CHAPTER: mentions of death, suicide, and SA, but it's all brief.

tbh, this chapter is pretty tame and a little fluffy if you squint, but it's all in preparation for the next chapter, which is by far worse than what I've written so far in terms of death/body horror, but we can talk about that later.

WORD COUNT: 5.6k

SUMMARY: you were taken from your home and forced to become Sukuna's wife.

“The next time you run from me, run fast and run far. Pray that I never, ever find you. If you get away from me, I swear to you, I will not stop looking for you until you’re beside me again. Mortals and deities fear me for a reason, and I don’t mind showing you why they all share that sentiment. Understand, wife?”

|| MIS M.List || > TORTURER > PITIFUL; oiktrós; οικτρός

The pain in your ankles didn’t subside until a couple of weeks after the incident, and in that time, Sukuna had been missing. In fact, months had passed, and you’ve yet to hear from him. 

Not that you wanted to anyway.

You’ve also not moved from your spot on your bed, not spoken to the random woman who claimed to be your new handmaiden, and you haven’t seen the light of day this entire time due to the blindfold. 

Even while in your chambers, you were still ordered to wear it.

You were left alone a majority of the time, so you knew that if you truly wished to take the blindfold off, you could do so without any repercussions, but there was a fear inside of you that prohibited you from doing it.

You couldn't really complain. Your situation wasn’t the best by any means–in fact, most would agree that this was a living hell. However, after what you’ve experienced thus far, being rendered immobile like you have has only proved to be a blessing. 

Hopefully, there would be a chance that you’d be allowed to slip into the afterlife without Uraume noticing. Though, you’ve yet to decide how that might come about. 

It definitely wouldn’t be via starvation or dehydration, as the handmaiden all but forced sustenance down your throat three times a day. You guess succumbing to whatever infection could fester in your ankle wouldn’t be a likely cause either, as your bandages were changed twice daily, too. 

A broken heart, maybe?

Or, perhaps if you lie just the right way, your pillow could aid in suffocating you. 

At the start of what you assumed to be your fourth month of this torturous blessing, your handmaiden spoke a full sentence to you while she unraveled the bandages around your foot.

“It appears your injury is fully healed, my queen. I would offer you the chance to walk around outside in the garden, but the winter seems to only be getting harsher as the days pass.”

Could it really be winter still? After so long?

You were retrieved toward the end of autumn–shouldn’t springtide be here?

“Your skin seems quite cold, so I’ll fetch you more blankets and deliver them with your dinner.”

Even as the winter season trudged on, you couldn’t find yourself caring about the cold. What could it do to a body that was already so numb?

Instead, you found your thoughts straying to memories of spring at your home–your real home. The one you shared with your mother, the one you were raised in. 

Back when the sunshine on your skin was so warm, and the green grass would tickle the bottoms of your feet as you worked in your garden. 

Back when your life wasn’t withering away like a decaying plant with a broken stem underneath a harsh, acidic downpour.

When the fifth month passed, you couldn’t help but feel as though there was a mistake in the universe. Those thoughts were only solidified when your nameless handmaiden entered your chambers once more, greeting you cheerfully. It was a stark contrast to the many mornings before, when she’d greeted you quietly and without emotion.

“Good morning, my queen! You’ve had nineteen passes around the sun. How do you feel?” Her happiness diminished when she realized you wouldn’t respond–you never did. 

Truthfully, you enjoyed the days when she wouldn’t say anything to you and would just shovel your food down your throat before leaving you alone again. 

It made you wonder what had changed.

“Our kitchen maids created something special for you this morning!” she chimed, shuffling closer until you could feel her weight dip onto the bed. “I have a variety of sweets here. Loukoumi, Halva, candied figs, and best of all, honey cake! And I have cleared this with the king–he’s given you permission to take your blindfold off for today! Here, allow me to-”

As soon as you felt her reach out for you, sheer panic shot through your entire body, forcing you to jolt away from her touch. Your heart started pounding in your chest as you violently shook your head.

“You don’t… you don’t want to take it off?”

Your lips parted to speak when that same fearful feeling crept up your spine. Immediately, you closed your mouth and nodded your head, agreeing with her silently. 

“It’s been months, my queen. Are you sure? Don’t you want to see again? Don’t you want to see me? I know we haven’t had the chance to get to know one another well, but don’t you-” 

You shook your head again, recoiling from her even more. 

“Oh, o-okay. That’s okay, you don’t have to. It’s your birthday, after all.”

The thought of having this comforting blessing of blindness stripped away from you, even with the knowledge that the king himself had given you permission, you couldn’t bear it. The blindfold and your silence had both become your crutches during this time. To be thrust back into the life you had months ago… that wasn’t something you wanted. 

Not anymore. 

There was a comfort in the darkness that the blindfold brought you. With it, you knew you’d never have to see things you didn’t want to. With your silence, there wasn’t a chance for you to say anything that might put yourself or someone else at risk for punishment. 

You were safe in the dark, quiet bubble the king had placed you in.

“Well, let’s move on to the next exciting thing: gifts! A couple of the girls and I came together to create a little bouquet for you. It’s not much, but we gathered flowers from the garden. Unfortunately, they’re all from the winter variety, so they’re a bit blue, but they’re beautiful nonetheless. Uhm, are you sure you don’t want to see them?”

You shook your head, earning her disheartened sigh. 

“Okay. Would you like me to describe them to you?”

You found yourself eagerly agreeing with a nod of your head. For the first time, you felt a touch of happiness thrum in your body from the thought of flowers. Your own garden had become a reprieve when you lived at home with your mother. You missed it terribly.

“There are a few cornflowers, starflowers, with some grape hyacinth and winter heath sprinkled in there. One of the girls even made a trip down to the little village near the castle and picked up some blue paper to wrap them up in.” The handmaiden paused, shifting the flowers around in her hand. “Would you like to hold them?”

Instantly, your hands jutted out, briefly brushing against her skin before latching onto the crinkling paper. You brought them to your nose, inhaling deeply with a sated sigh.

Who knew something as delicate and precious as flowers could blossom in a hellish place like this?

“Do you like them?” 

You hummed in agreement.

A stretch of silence continued for a moment before she spoke again. 

“There is one more gift. Here, let me put these in a pitcher of water for you so you can open the next one.”

Begrudgingly, you handed over the flowers, only to have them replaced with a heavy box. Your fingertips traced over the smooth grooves of the wooden box before touching what felt like a carving on the lid. When you felt a series of little bumps, you couldn’t even begin to picture what it might be.

Luckily, your handmaiden took notice and came to your rescue.

“Oh, the design on the box is a pomegranate blossom.”

A pomegranate?

As your fingers traced over the design again, you could picture the carving in your head. The little bumps must be the seeds, and the lines must create the pointed blossom. 

“The king is rather fond of the fruit. They grow in abundance here–well, when it isn’t such a harsh winter. You’ll see that come summer. The trees line the paths in the garden. It’s very pretty…”

As she spoke, she didn’t take notice of your panic after she mentioned his name. 

You pushed the box away from yourself and flinched when you heard it land on the floor.

“My queen? Are you alright?” Her footsteps tapped along the floor as she raced over to you, gasping when she saw the gift lying on the floor. “Your gift–here. Forgive me, I should have been watching, I–what is the matter?”

You pushed away from her, brushing off the box she was attempting to set in your lap again.

“You don’t want the gift? Are you sure?” When you nodded, she continued, “It’s uhm.. It’s not from the king, if that’s what you’re assuming. This… um–this came from the kitchen maids! They all saved up to get you something!”

Your heart leapt into your throat as you clambered back over, not keen on feeling guilty for rejecting a gift from the innocent kitchen staff after they’ve already gone through so much trouble.

Pushing your fingers inside the box, you gasped when you brushed over something so soft. The handmaiden gasped, too, and pulled whatever it was from the box.

“Oh, my queen! This gift is so beautiful!”

You reached forward, gripping onto the fabric again. 

“It’s a winter cloak, my queen. So beautiful, so… elegant! Would you like to try it on?” 

You agreed through a wince as you were trying to pull your legs over the edge of the bed. Her hands instantly wrapped around your waist when you stumbled forward, only for her to ease you back to the edge of the mattress. 

“It’s been a while since you’ve used your legs. Here, allow me,” she said as she flung the cloak around your shoulders, latching it shut across your chest. “There, and goodness, my queen! You look stunning!”

For the first time in so long, you felt a smile curve onto your lips. Your hands ran over the fabric, taking in the texture and reveling in the warmth. 

“Would you like to see yourself in it?”

Your smile fell, heart faltering into a near stop at the mention of it. You shook your head as your fingers found the clasp at your chest, ready to take it off, only for her to wrap her hand around yours to stop you.

“It’s okay. If you don’t want to remove your blindfold, I won’t make you. But, please, don’t take off the cloak yet. You look so beautiful in it.”

You swallowed thickly, but agreed with her.

“Would you like to take a walk outside in the garden with me? Now that you’ve got this cloak, the harsh winter shouldn’t seem more than a gentle breeze.”

You frowned, leaning down to tap your ankle, reminding her that you still couldn’t walk. 

“Don’t worry. I can carry you on my back. You don’t weigh that much.”

After a couple of hours and an extensive bath, per your handmaiden’s request, she finally brought you out of the castle on her back. As soon as the winter air hit your skin, you gasped, choking slightly from the lack of oxygen in the atmosphere. 

But it was refreshing nonetheless. 

You contemplated taking the blindfold off for only a moment before doubt crept back in, which kept it secured to your face. You didn’t force yourself to do it either, and instead, decided to just enjoy the little bit of fresh air that you’d been granted that day.

Her feet crunched in the snow as she trudged forward, not once huffing or puffing from the extra weight you were putting on her back. After an hour of walking around with her, adding just bits to the conversation, she came to a stop. Carefully, she slid you off her back and onto a resting spot of some kind. 

“We can rest under the gazebo for a bit. You still haven’t eaten anything today, so I packed up a couple of figs and a slice of cake.” She rummaged around in something before adding, “Here, my queen. After this, we can stop and grab a few more flowers before I take you back inside. Then, you can have a warm bath, and I’ll make you some tea. How does that sound?”

Another smile carved itself onto your mouth before you nodded, earning her quiet cheer of relief.

After finishing the figs, she broke off a piece of the cake and placed it in your mouth. You almost moaned, instantly falling in love with the taste.

She laughed, “It’s good, right? Miss Suyo made it special.”

Suyo? 

You realized you hadn’t learned the names of anyone inside the castle, not even your new handmaiden. However, just before you could even think to ask her, a familiar voice sliced through the air.

“Miss Unoko,” they began, and while it had been a while since you’d heard their voice, you knew it to be Uraume. “The king will be joining the queen here on the gazebo. When he arrives, you are dismissed.”

The king? Wants to join you?

Your stomach twisted into knots as you forced yourself to swallow the mouthful of syrupy cake.

“Oh, I don’t think that is a good idea. The queen is-”

“Express your concerns when he arrives. I’m not your messenger.”

Instinctively, your hands curled around her clothing, hoping she wouldn’t abandon you with him. Her hand cupped your own, equally as cold as your hands were.

“Don’t worry, my queen. I’m sure the king just wants to wish you a happy birthday. When he returns you to your chambers, I’ll be waiting for you. I promise.” Her hand tightened around yours for only a moment before her touch disappeared entirely. “I should go before he arrives. He is… not very fond of me as of late.”

Then, the snow began crunching under her feet as she departed. In the distance, you heard the brief chatter of two individuals before it dispersed, replaced by the sound of your blood rushing through your head. So much so that you did not hear him approach. 

However, you could smell him. The smoky incense and sweetened decay scent were all too familiar to you; you were sure there was nothing you could do to forget it. It only intensified as he grew closer, but you didn’t know he was right in front of you until you felt him.

You flinched when his thumb brushed against your jaw, creating millions of sparks that stippled your skin in the wake of his touch.

“The cloak suits you nicely,” he gruffly said, moving to take a seat beside you.

The way just his voice was able to manipulate your insides, paired with the rush you felt when he touched you, created an awfully sick culmination of contradicting feelings within you. It made all the hair on the back of your neck stand up, but at the same time, you found yourself wanting to curl into him and accept this disgusting, innate craving to be comforted by him. 

What is wrong with you?

“You did not walk out here, I hope.”

You shook your head as his hand moved to your thigh, which caused you to gasp and pull away from him. Of course, that didn’t work out in your favor. His fingers parted your cloak around your calves, and a deep grumble emanated from his chest.

“You need winter shoes if you’re going to be outside.”

You nodded in agreement and shuffled away from him. 

“You know, your handmaiden pleaded on her hands and knees for you to have today to remove your blindfold, yet, here you are, wearing it still. Do you not want to see the beautiful garden that the help work so hard to maintain?”

Your mouth fell open, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to actually give him an answer. 

“Still not speaking?”

Slowly, you shook your head, wondering if he knew that this was the first time you’d heard from him in five months.

“Take off your blindfold. Your handmaiden put her life on the line to make this request on your behalf.”

Instinctively, your eyes welled with tears. 

“Now, wife. Be silent if you must, but I had to listen to the woman grovel for hours.”

She really did all of that for you?

Still, you denied him his order.

“I will not punish you for a command that I am giving you. Take. It. Off.”

You made a sound of discontent, still refusing. This time, you pushed even further away from him until you slipped from the side of the bench. 

You shrieked, bracing for the impact that never came. Instead, a warm hand gripped your cloak and hoisted you onto your feet. Within seconds, you stumbled forward until he held you by your waist so you wouldn’t fall over.

“Why are you so adamant about keeping the blindfold on? Take it off. Now.” 

You shivered as his hold on your body tightened. 

“I already said I won’t punish you for it, but I have no qualms about punishing you for your disobedience.”

Your tear-soaked blindfold cooled in the winter air, but you didn’t move. Perhaps if you were lucky, it would freeze to your face and you wouldn’t have to take it off at all. 

This blindfold was your buffer to the real world. As long as you had it on, you could pretend that being stuck in this place wasn’t so bad.

Apparently, Sukuna had other ideas.

When you didn’t make a move to take it off, one of his hands shot behind your head, pulling the piece that tied it all together. A ragged sob tore from your throat as the cloth fell from your eyes, and without hesitating, you pushed yourself forward, forcing your face into the ruffles of his winter cloak.

He stilled, hands moving away from you as you clambered into his lap, seeking refuge in the blindness his clothing offered. Your body curled into him as you inhaled that familiar scent, relishing in the darkness, which seemed to have calmed you down a bit. 

How ridiculous, you thought. 

After gaining his composure, his hands grappled with your own cloak in an attempt to pry you off of him. 

“Sit up.”

You shook your head, burying your head deeper. 

Under his breath, he huffed, “Fucking pathetic,” as his grip loosened to slide up to your back. “You’re a grown woman, yet you’re behaving like a child. Am I really wed to such a brat?” he scoffed, but made no attempt to remove you. Instead, he secured you to his torso before leaning forward with one hand, abandoning his hold on you for a moment. 

When he stood to his full height, you felt as though you were flying, much like you’d felt all those months ago at the hearing.

He truly was a behemoth of a god.

“Here. If you insist on wearing it, go ahead. Why would I care?” he sighed, forcing the cloth into your fist as he began walking through the snow. 

Quickly, you tied it around your face before pressing your cheek against his warm chest again–something that should not have brought you as much satisfaction as it did. 

“Poor excuse of a queen,” he jeered to himself upon entering the castle. 

You only nodded and relinquished the inner thoughts that told you to get away from him. 

Why would you, when the comfort he was giving you almost seemed to make up for the months you’d spent alone?

“O-Oh, my king! I did not expect you to be back-” Unoko started her apology when Sukuna entered the room with you clinging to his chest, only for him to immediately cut her off.

“Silence.” At his command, Unoko shut her mouth as Sukuna lowered you onto your bed. It was only then that you released your hold on his cloak and forced yourself under the covers. “Never request things on behalf of your queen ever again. You’ll be released to the hunting grounds before you even step foot into my throne room, do you understand me?”

“Yes, my king-”

Before she could even finish her response, he slammed your chamber doors shut as he stormed out. 

Every day for the next week, Unoko would carry you out to the garden to have lunch under the gazebo. The king didn’t try to interfere with your little regimen again, which you were highly grateful for. However, there was still a tiny part of you that did wish he’d interrupt you, but only for a moment. 

A moment was all you needed to soak in the odd comfort your captor seemed to bring you.

Unoko really enjoyed your daily outings, too. Even when you neglected to answer her questions, she’d always continue the conversation, putting words in your mouth for you. Your talk was entirely one-sided, but in a way, it felt like you were both partaking in the gossip. 

Speaking of, gossip was something that was never lacking at the shrine, and Unoko never failed to relay it all back to you. 

“Miss Koya said that Miss Musu saw Miss Yukime and Sir Noriyoshi sneaking off last night to his chambers. Yukime was supposed to be caring for Lady Yorozu, too. Apparently, Musu covered for Yukime, and took her spot at Lady Yorozu’s bedside last night,” Unoko continued with a knowing tone. “And everyone knows how crabby the royal mistress can be.”

“R-Royal wh-whore…” you felt the words slip from your mouth before you could stop them. The scratch in your throat was too painful, and the growing anxiety forced your mouth closed again. 

Unoko gasped, giggling quietly. “My queen, this is the first I’ve heard you speak, and it’s to engage in tattle.” You felt your cheeks warm as you recoiled into yourself. “But you’re entirely right–Lady Yorozu is… well, perhaps I should keep my commentary to myself when it comes to things directly involving our king.”

You shook your head, gripping her hand and silently telling her to continue. 

“Oh, you want to hear about it?” 

You nodded. 

“Alright. Well, if I tell you, this all has to stay between us, okay? They say that Lady Yorozu indulges in more men than just King Sukuna. They say she services the entire king’s guard behind our king’s back. But you didn’t hear that from me, alright?”

You smiled and nodded, leaning into Unoko for warmth. 

“More…” you croaked, barely loud enough to be considered a whisper. 

She laughed. “Alright, let’s see. Oh, did you ever hear about the secret baby they keep hidden away here? Apparently, it belongs to one of the kitchen maids. Word is, she was raped and instead of telling anyone, she had the baby in secret and kept it underground.” 

You frowned and pulled away from her. 

“No one can ever prove if it’s true because no one has ever been able to find it, but if you go near the cellar when the sun goes down, they say you can hear it crying for its mother. If you ask me, it sounds more like the cellar is haunted, but they claim there’s a child.”

“Who?”

“No one knows exactly. Of course, this whisper has been circulating around the castle for years now, so the chances of there actually being a child below the cellar are highly unlikely. It would have grown up by now-”

“Take me.”

She paused under your command. “I don’t think that is a good idea, my queen. As I’ve said, this is just speculation.”

But if there truly is a child down there-

Unoko was quick to change the subject before you could pry into the rumor further.  

“I’m sure you’re hungry. Let’s get you fed, and then we can go inside and warm you up with a bath.”

The steady sound of Unoko’s embroidery needle piercing the taught fabric is what lulled you to sleep that night. Since Sukuna dropped you off last week after your time in the garden, Unoko has been staying with you until you fell asleep. This wasn’t something you had asked of her, but it gave you comfort to know that she was there while you slipped into unconsciousness.

Usually, you were quick to fall asleep. Your outings had started to exhaust you throughout the day as you’d done nothing but lie in bed for the past few months. However, tonight was different–you were a bit restless with your straying thoughts. After Unoko told you the story about the baby in the cellar, you couldn’t help but keep thinking about it. 

Could there really be a baby down there? And no one was taking care of it? She said it was years ago, perhaps the baby was dead? Maybe it really was just a ghost haunting the area– this was the underworld, after all. A wandering spirit wouldn’t be too shocking. 

But, what if that wandering spirit was that baby? 

Did someone let it die down there? Could the mother really leave it to starve? To freeze? If a helpless, innocent child were experiencing even half of what you’d gone through, your heart would shatter. 

Children weren’t made for a place like this.

Rather than alerting Unoko to your thoughts, you let them run wild. If she knew her story was keeping you awake, she’d definitely quit indulging in the castle gossip with you. That had been the only thing keeping you truly entertained so far– it kept you from being entirely miserable. 

It made you feel less… lonely. 

You couldn’t imagine how lonely that baby must’ve been. Whether the rumor is true or not, just thinking about it made your stomach churn.

The light tapping against your chamber door pulled you out of your melancholic thoughts. Unoko’s noises ceased as she put aside her work and quietly padded to the door, gently pulling it open so as not to wake you up. As soon as it creaked open, the already cool air shifted into an arctic freeze.

“Good evening, my king,” Unoko whispered, shuffling her feet.

“How was she today?” he asked quietly as they stepped out of the room, pulling the door to a near closed. 

Your ears strained to hear their conversation.

“The queen was good as always. I accompanied her to the garden, we had lunch, and then I bathed her this evening before helping her into bed. She still insists on wearing the blindfold, my king-”

“Is she still silent?”

Your heart came to a halt.

He understood that you chose not to speak, so would he force you now? If Unoko told him that you had spoken to her, would he assume that you wished to speak to him as well? 

Truthfully, you didn’t want to speak to him. Unoko and you had bonded plenty over the last few months. You trusted her enough that your body was allowing you to talk to her out loud. 

Sukuna, however, was a different story. 

There was something about talking to him that you didn’t feel safe about doing. Any time you had in the past, it never worked out in your favor. 

But would he punish you now that he knew you were capable of speaking to other people, but chose not to speak to him?

“The queen is… still silent, my king.”

“You hesitated.”

The growing tension from their conversation in the hallway was permeating into the room, making your throat thicken with a bit of fear. 

You wanted her to keep your little secret between each other, but at the same time, if something happened to her like your last handmaiden, you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself. Unoko had just pulled you out of the misery that Sukuna had forced you into, and you weren’t ready to slip back into it. 

You needed Unoko.

“Is she speaking or not, mortal?”

“She is not, my king. But she is making progress.” 

The tremble in her voice made you nervous. Being under the king’s scrutinizing questioning wasn’t easy. 

“Enlighten me.”

“During lunch, she let me know she enjoyed the meal but… humming.”

“I see. What did the kitchen prepare for her today?”

“Oh, uhm, let’s see. There were dried persimmons, cheese, and bread.”

Sukuna grumbled under his breath. “That’s it?”

“Well, that’s all that she ate. They made a veal stew, but she isn’t fond of meat, my king.”

“Of course, she isn’t,” he scoffed with a touch of disgust.

“It seems she favors sweets. She really enjoyed the honey cake that was prepared for her birthday-”

“I do not care what the insolent brat favors. She’ll eat what she’s given, or she’ll starve. But if she dies, so do you.”

“I understand, my king.”

Even from inside your room, you could hear the way his teeth were grinding together out of frustration. 

If he did not care, why was he taking the time to ask in the first place?

“What else do you have to report? Quickly, I have important things to tend to.”

“She seems rather bored when confined to her chambers-”

“That matters to me how?”

“I just think she would enjoy an activity to occupy her mind. She enjoys the garden quite a bit, my king. Perhaps she could aid in helping the groundskeeper.”

Sukuna was quiet for a moment before chuckling. 

“While she is an inane woman, she’s still a queen. I won’t have my wife working outside with the help. Ask me a foolish question like that again, mortal. I dare you.”

His footsteps retreated down the hallway after that, and Unoko entered the room again, quietly taking her seat in the corner and starting her embroidery task like before.

She was the first person here who fought for your best interests, every step of the way. Tonight further solidified the fact that you needed her with you. 

She was genuine and kind.

“Thank you… Unoko…”

Her movement stopped as she exhaled a shaky breath, probably still reeling after speaking with Sukuna. 

“Of course, my queen.”

The next week passed quickly as you and Unoko continued with your regular regimen.

Garden, gossip, eat, and go inside to bathe.

“Guess what Miss Musu told me this morning as I went to retrieve your breakfast?” Unoko started, placing you down gently on the bench underneath the gazebo. You tapped her arm, urging her to continue. She giggled and took her place beside you. “She said that Sir Noriyoshi and Lady Yorozu were seen roaming the halls together last night. Apparently, Koya spotted them–can you believe it? She really is-” 

Unoko stopped short. 

You exhaled a laugh as a smile curved onto your mouth. That is, until Unoko’s hand curled around yours, silently telling you to stop. Then you felt that shift in the air, alluding to the god who just made his presence known to her, and with her next words, it was confirmed.

“My king, I apologize. I did not know you would be-”

“Leave us,” he commanded, his hefty boots thudding against the flooring of the gazebo. Her hand disappeared from yours before you could reach out for her and secure her to your side.

“Of course. Here is her lunch for today.” Turning to you then, she said, “I’ll see you this evening, my queen. My king.” 

You heard her footsteps retreating, crunching through the snow as she left you behind. 

Sukuna’s overwhelming scent clouded your brain, leaving you to fumble around to put space between you. 

“Relax. I have something for you.”

When his hand brushed your thigh, you flinched away from him. He traced his fingers through he ruffles of your cloak until he exposed your calf. Despite knowing how brutal his hands could be, his touch had never felt so soft, and it worked wonders on calming down your erratic heartbeat. 

How easily you’d be able to just forget about all the horrible things he’s done to you if he promises to keep touching you like that. 

“You should be able to walk now that your ankles have healed.” Your heart palpitated in your chest as he pulled the leather tie that held together your flimsy sandals. When he slid it off your foot, he continued, “In two weeks, you’ll attend another hearing with me, and I’ll need you to walk down the aisle to your designated spot. Until then, we are going to practice.”

The mere mention of another hearing brought apprehension to your chest, but it was quelled by his hand brushing over your ankle. Funnily enough, this didn’t incite as much fear as you thought it might. Sukuna was the one to slice your ankles, yet here he was, touching them so gently.

Soft fur slid over your foot and up your calf, stopping just below your knees as he secured the warm boot to your foot. When it was situated in place, you pulled your leg away from him and created space between you both, shaking your head. 

“What?” he questioned. “The hearing?” When you nodded, he scoffed, “You will attend. It is your duty as the queen.”

You shook your head again, fingers tracing over the blindfold.

“I will not make you remove your blindfold. You will not have to speak, either, but your presence is mandatory. There is talk of a war between the regions,” he sighed as he continued placing the next boot on your other foot. “The kingdom must appear strong, so that means having the queen attend, do you understand?”

You nodded. 

“Good.” He grabbed your hands next, sliding a warm set of gloves over them. “We will practice outside.”

Sukuna pulled you up by your wrists, holding you steady until you gathered your bearings. Under your own weight, the muscles in your legs started to shake, and eventually, they gave out, sending you tumbling forward. Sukuna caught you and pushed you straight again, letting out a grumbling huff. 

“Can you not even stand on your own?”

Your lips pressed into a flat line as his question, silently giving him his answer–one he wasn’t impressed by as he groaned under his breath, “Gods,” before wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you to his side. “I expect you to try.”

|| MIS M.List || > TORTURER >

confused by what you just read? Malevolence In Spring's Guide

a/n: I just wanna let everyone who commented on these posts know that I swear I'm seeing your comments and I appreciate every single one of them!! You all have been so so so sweet!!! Sometimes I just get overwhelmed and don't know how to respond, but I love reading them, and I love you!!! It means so much!!! ty ty ty <333!!!

taglist: @belovedria @whorishminds @kaziis @delliriumn @desmond69sallnite @kouyoumarryme @doobybopbop

the taglist is still open, so just lemme know if you want to be added! And if you're already on it and want to be removed, lemme know that, too!

[w0rm3y]

Malevolence In Spring- R. Sukuna

TAGS: Hades!Sukuna x Persephone!Reader, arranged marriage, forced proximity, kidnapping, True Form!Sukuna, Husband!Sukuna

OVERALL WARNINGS: MDNI, extreme violence, graphic depictions of death, blood, body horror, physical torture, psychological torture, Stockholm Syndrome, Lima Syndrome, manipulation, toxicity, cannibalism, suicide, blood kink, spit kink, breeding kink, biting kink, size kink, monster-fucking (That man is a monster, like actually), S&M, marking, stomach/belly bulges THIS CHAPTER: violence, angst, depression, mentions of death/suicide, torture, blood, body horror, guys fr, body horror and torture. please note: body horror and torture, it's toward the end

WORD COUNT: 4.8k, loosely edited, but I'll edit when I read it over later

SUMMARY: you were taken from your home and forced to become Sukuna's wife.

“The next time you run from me, run fast and run far. Pray that I never, ever find you. If you get away from me, I swear to you, I will not stop looking for you until you’re beside me again. Mortals and deities fear me for a reason, and I don’t mind showing you why they all share that sentiment. Understand, wife?”

|| MIS M.List || > PITIFUL > NEUTRALITY; oudeterótita; ουδετερότητα

Assuming an utterly emotionless state was the best decision you’d made since entering the shrine. Once you realized there was nothing for you here, wasting away until your death didn’t seem too terrible. However, the constant nagging of your handmaiden made your slow death even more miserable. It had been a couple of weeks, and you assumed she would have given up by now.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything, my queen? I have a variety of teas, fruits, even sweets–whatever you want, I just need you to consume something,” Hatsuyo implored, nearly begging at your bedside.

You didn’t answer her.

“I heard it’s supposed to be a long winter, my queen. Are you sure you wouldn’t like more blankets? Warmer clothing? A hot bath–a hot meal, even? Your skin is so cold.”

You didn’t answer her then, either. 

“Can I at least clean you? Brush your hair? Change the bedding?”

Your mouth remained closed. No matter how many different ways she asked if she could take care of you, you stayed silent. Day after day, week after week–you didn’t know why your body hadn’t given up yet. More importantly, why hadn’t Hatsuyo given up yet? You reached a point where you couldn’t even find it in yourself to care if you were torturing the poor girl. You were too exhausted to care about anything.

One morning, after you finally managed to drift off to sleep, you were interrupted when your bedroom door abruptly opened. Assuming it was Hatsuyo, you closed your eyes to enter your comatose state once more, only to find out that Hatsutyo wasn’t the one in the room with you. Usually, when your handmaiden entered the room, the atmosphere would shift into something warm. Truthfully, you believed that was the reason you hadn’t frozen to death yet.

But that morning, when the warmth didn’t come, you had an eerie feeling creeping up your spine. You knew the wintery shift wasn’t that of Sukuna, this was someone different, someone a little less dark than him, and less… deadly? But, if not Sukuna, who was it?

Your body locked up when you felt a cool finger brush against the sole of your exposed foot, trailing up your ankle, stopping midway up your calf.

“If you keep slipping into the afterlife, my queen, I’ll have to assume that’s where you’d like to be.” Their voice was melodious, almost. Soft and pleasant. “I’ve had to bring you back six times over the course of this month.”

Six times? You’ve died six times?

“Let me go then. I wish to die.” You found yourself croaking, throat raw and itchy from being silent for so long. The unknown person chuckled, moving from your side of the bed to the other. 

Your blurry vision couldn’t pick up much, but you could see just how monochromatic this person was. Stark white hair, cut short into a bob, porcelain white skin that matched their white monk robe. The only contrast you could see was their purple-tinted eyes. You blinked more, honing in your sight on their striking features, recalling that you’d seen this person before.

“You’re Uraume, right?”

With a curt nod, they muttered, “Indeed.”

Another ally of Sukuna’s, it’s no wonder they aren’t allowing you to die.

“Where’s Hatsuyo?”

Their face remained stoic and unreadable as they responded with, “After I brought you back the fifth time, Sukuna removed that handmaiden from your service. Until one worthy enough to keep you alive comes along, I’m afraid you’ll have to deal with me.”

For the first time in a month, you felt yourself caring about something. Your stomach dropped, and had you not been severely dehydrated, you might’ve cried.

“Is she… dead?”

Still emotionless, Uraume replied, “I do not know, my queen. However, the quickest way to receive the answers you seek is to get up and ask Sukuna yourself.”

Your bottom lip trembled, throat closing in with thick emotion. “I do not want to see Sukuna. H-He’s a monster.”

Their hand rested on the side of your face. “I won’t disagree with you. Sukuna can be cruel, but he can be neutral just the same.”

“Neutral?” you scoffed, rolling away from their touch. “He can take his neutrality and shove it up his ass.”

Uraume snickered, “I’ll pass along the message.”

“Please do,” you hissed, tossing the thick blankets off your body. 

“As soon as he returns from the eastern river village.”

Your gaze settled on the ally again. “The eastern village?”

“Yes. He’s leaving in the morning to deliver the firewood that’s been promised. He should be back within a few weeks, so if you’d like to get up and explore without the threat of running into him, you’d best do it then.”

You huffed and rolled away from them. “No thanks. I’d like to continue rotting.”

“Suit yourself. But you will eat something, drink something, bathe, and change your clothes, as well as the sheets. It smells like a decaying corpse in here, and I’ll tolerate it no longer. Truthfully, I assumed your mother would’ve passed down her strength, but I can see I’ve been sorely mistaken.”

The mention of your mother pulled you away from your pity party in seconds. 

“You know my mother?”

“Of course, I do. Strong goddess, she is.”

“Have you spoken recently?”

They shook their head. “Not since last winter, but I wouldn’t mind passing along a letter or two when I make my yearly trip to the surface. Is that something you’d like?”

You eagerly nodded your head, sitting up and shifting closer to Uramue. “Very much so-”

“Then you’ll stop moping and wishing to rot away. Your mother would be disappointed to see how quickly you’ve wilted. Eat, drink, bathe, and change–I’ll fetch some paper and ink.”

With those being their parting words, they retreated from the room, and in their place, a different servant entered with a tray of fruits and vegetables, a pitcher of water, and a new set of bedding.

Something inside of you told you that if you didn’t finish what was on the tray, by the time Uraume made it back with the paper and ink, they wouldn’t allow you to write those letters anymore. So, without wasting time, you began devouring the food in front of you, not realizing just how hungry you really were until the last thing that stared back at you on the plate was a perfectly ripened pomegranate.

Since it was your favorite, you saved it for last, knowing that it would be that much sweeter if you waited until it was the only thing left. However, just as you started peeling it apart, you stopped. 

Perhaps saving it for last wasn’t the best idea–you realized that you’d eaten until your heart’s content and were now full. Forcing yourself to eat the pomegranate now would be a waste; you’d rather savor it for all that it was worth because who knows when you’d get to taste another.

You placed it back down on the tray and set it aside on the bedside table before grabbing the old bedding, stripping it away to add the fresh layer. Just before you could finish smoothing out the wrinkles, there was a harsh knock against your chamber doors. With excitement, you disregarded the bedding and rushed to your door in hopes that Uraume was back, and that they’d brought you a lot of paper and ink. You had so much that you wanted to tell your mother. 

Shocking, as you pulled the door open, you found that it was not Uraume who stood behind it, but rather a beautiful, tall woman with long, silky black hair. Her dark green wrap draped over her perfectly, and you found yourself growing a bit jealous of her looks. You glanced up at the woman who regarded you with a nasty sneer.

“The king has requested your presence in the bath house,” she hissed before turning on her heel, retreating back down the corridor. “Follow me if you do not know the way.”

The woman wasn’t giving you much of an option to decline. So, hesitantly, you followed after her, but stopped a few paces outside your chamber doors, gasping, “My blindfold-”

“Don’t bother. You’ll be bathing, just keep your head down.”

You swallowed thickly, feeling a bit nervous since Sukuna had threatened to carve out your eyes for not wearing your blindfold, but if he sent this woman to fetch you, surely, he would’ve told her to make sure you grabbed something so crucial, right?

Right?

“Are you my new handmaiden?” you asked, looking up at her. She grimaced, glaring back at you with a deep, seething scowl. 

“I am not a handmaiden.”

You retracted, flinching away from the animosity dripping from her voice. “Oh, I apologize if I offended you-”

“Do not apologize, my… queen.”

Her disdain toward you was quite obvious, yet you’ve only just met the woman. 

“What is your name? Your status? Why are you here in my shrine?”

A humorless chuckle tumbled past her lips. “Your shrine?”

Oh, did it rub you the wrong way.

“I can’t say that I’m appreciating your tone right now, so unless we’re of the same rank-”

“The wife and royal mistress usually are, right?” she interrupted you, mouth twitching into a smirk. “At least in the king’s eyes.”

“Rank means everything to the king–he’s already killed for me, per my request, due to their lack of respect.”

Her smug grin never faltered. “Then he put that blindfold on you, didn’t he? You know, he allows me to look into his eyes.”

“If I cared about looking at my husband, I wouldn’t have accepted the blindfold in the first place.”

That was a lie, a big lie, and one you hoped this woman couldn’t see through.

You came to a stop in front of a double set of doors. 

“Open them,” you commanded, to which she scoffed, rejecting you. “I could have you killed for disobeying me, you know?”

She laughed then, still unmoving out of spite. “If he kills me, who should warm his bed?”

You pretended to think it over before saying, “Probably another whore he could pull out of whatever swamp you’re from. Open. The Doors. Or I’ll retreat back to my room, and you can explain to our king why the presence he requested is missing.”

There were only two things you wanted at that point. The first being to get whatever your presence was requested for out of the way so you could move on to more important things. The second thing was the respect that this woman still owed you. 

The longer you continued to stand there, staring at one another, the more antsy the woman became, until finally, she conceded and pushed the doors open. You didn’t utter a single thanks, not even a grateful glance as you brushed past her and into the steamy bath house. As soon as you crossed the threshold, you cast your head down to avoid his cruel eyes. 

Your wavering confidence barely got you through the confrontation with the royal whore, there was no way you could keep it up enough to deal with Sukuna, too. He just had a knack for sucking the life right out of you without even lifting a finger.

When the doors slammed shut behind you, a silence enveloped the room. After a few moments, you deemed it safe to raise your head and navigate the new room. As much as you’d rather bathe in the comfort of your own room, that option wasn’t available to you right now. 

With Uraume’s promise weighing heavily on your mind, you began stripping out of your clothing, using the thoughts of everything you were going to write to your mother as the driving force to continue. 

Your fingers worked on unraveling your hair from its long braid, and in doing so, you noted the blushing hue it was beginning to take. Not enough to really be noticeable, and if it weren’t for the candlelight glinting off the strands, you wouldn’t have noticed at all. Perhaps you were seeing things, probably from the stress. 

Sliding down to your knees, you peered into the giant bath, enjoying the steam that wafted up onto your face. Your chambers were freezing, no matter how many blankets were forced onto you. With your fingers and toes all but begging you to get into the warm water, you moved your legs out above the pool, dipping them in slightly before sliding all the way in. A relieved sigh escaped you as you allowed yourself to sink down far enough that your shoulders were submerged.

You didn’t realize how much you needed the warmth until then. You wondered how many times it was the cold that killed you rather than starvation or dehydration. You made a mental note to thank Uraume for keeping you alive, no matter if you had to live in this castle with the bane of your existence–if they had let you go, you wouldn’t have had the chance to experience this. 

As soon as your face was covered by the water, you allowed yourself to sink to the bottom of the pool. Truthfully, you could die now, and you wouldn’t mind. However, after a minute of relishing the near-death you were teetering on the edge of, fate decided it was time for you to meet the surface again. But it was not you who pulled yourself off the pool floor. Instead, it was a thick hand, wrapped tightly around your bicep.

The first gulp of breath was nearly painful, leaving you lightheaded and a bit dizzy. You coughed, wheezing, but ultimately pleased with the lively feeling you were left with. 

Until you were brutally reminded that you were no longer alone.

Your bare back crashed into a familiar-feeling wall, one that was padded with warm muscle, yet had the ability to exude such a chill.

“Don’t do that again.”

His voice slithered across the back of your neck, sending shivers over your entire body. 

“I invited you to my bathhouse to bathe, not have a little pity party for yourself. Six times, woman–were you trying to make it seven?”

“O-Oh, I wasn’t-”

“No? I counted two and a half minutes that you were under the water. Were you trying to suffocate for fun?”

“No, my king-” 

His hand brushed over your mouth, silencing you.

“If I have to hear from Uraume that you’ve died ever again, I won’t hesitate to kill you myself,” he whispered, too calm for such hateful words. 

You recoiled from his grasp when you felt his lips graze over the shell of your ear, cold chills raking your skin in their wake. As his hand slipped away from your mouth, you found yourself asking, “Where’s Hatsuyo?”

“The useless handmaiden?”

You nodded stiffly, feeling your stomach twist as his term for her. Useless? Hatsuyo was not useless-

“Gone.”

“What do you mean, gone?”

I mean, she’s gone, no longer in this shrine. She was released to the hunting grounds yesterday morning, so if I had to guess, she’s probably melting in some curse’s stomach acid right about now.”

How he was able to speak about something so horrendous and stay calm was sickening. 

“You bastard,” you cried quietly, much to his amusement.

“Don’t tell me you cared for the mortal,” he purred, slinking his arms around your bare torso. “She was a servant.”

“She was my friend!”

Your fingernails dug into the skin of his wrist, desperately trying to pry him away from you.

“Yes. She was–try your best to move past it. There are better things to waste your tears on than a lowly human who allowed you to sink into this… meager state.” His hands trailed up your waist, settling on your protruding ribcage. “I leave you alone for a couple of weeks, and you turn into nothing but a pile of sickly skin and bone. It’s pathetic.”

You pushed his hands away from you and moved out of his grasp, still keeping your back turned to him since you were without your blindfold.

“Do you think this meager state of mine might have something to do with my horrible environment and a malevolent man who claims to be my husband?”

He chuckled. “Careful, woman. You’re taken care of in this horrible environment. I provide you with food, shelter, clothing–anything you could want, and you still assume I’m malevolent?”

“You forced me out of my home and brought me here to treat me like an unwanted pet-”

He scoffed, “I want you. I would not have brought you here and made you my wife if I didn’t.”

“What a lovely way you have of showing it, you confusing man.” You brushed the tears from your cheeks. “Not that I wish to understand you–you’re too cruel a man for me to comprehend anyway. But it would be nice to know why it was me you chose to enslave. How could I be so unlucky? Why not marry your royal whore?”

Sukuna exhaled a laugh. “The royal whore is simply that–a whore. Yorozu isn’t fit to be my queen-”

“Yet you choose to lie with her.”

As those words tumbled out of your mouth, you realized your mistake and how your words could be taken incorrectly. 

“I didn’t realize you were so envious of my bed whore,” he simpered, full of humor. “Is that what will quell these feelings you have? Lying with me?”

“Of course not. Who would want to lie with a monster like yourself?”

“I’ve been very kind to you thus far-”

You snorted at his blatant lie and swam away from him, not getting very far as he grabbed your arm, pulling you back to him, but this time, he twisted you around to face him. Your eyes locked with his chest as fear shot through you. 

“Things can and will get worse for you if you continue with this ungrateful attitude.”

“Can they, Sukuna?” You asked, entirely sardonic. “I don’t even fear death anymore. At this point, I welcome it. The pain you could inflict won’t last forever, so do your worst.”

His hand held onto your jaw, lifting your head and forcing you to look at his face. Fierce ruby-colored eyes stared down at you, dancing around your face in search of insincerity. When he found none, his gaze hardened. 

“Insolent brat,” he mumbled, lips falling into a flat line. His words hardly registered in your brain as you felt so captivated by his stare. “You don’t know what you’re asking for, but how could I deny my wife’s request? We can start tomorrow.”

A crease formed between your brows as you asked, “What about the river village in the east? You were going to take firewood to that woman-”

“No, I was going to take firewood to the entire village, but it seems my attention is required elsewhere until the foreseeable future.”

Your mouth fell open. “But they’ll freeze to death-”

He smiled, eyes crinkling with such cruelty. “Most likely. It’s supposed to be a long winter after all. Maybe they should take a page from their queen’s book and welcome death. It’s inevitable for them anyway. What’s the sense in keeping fragile mortals warm when death is only a few paces away?”

“But you promised them–you killed that man-”

“No. You promised them.” A grin twisted onto his mouth as he continued, “As for that man, his death meant nothing to me. His offer was shit and, as I told him, fulfilling his request was only because his queen was so generous. It’s not my fault you decided to be selfish and order me to stay here. I’m sure the village will understand. After all, a queen’s order takes precedence over a few lowly mortals.”

It started to make sense for you then. This was another one of your punishments, one that he didn’t have to lay his hands on you for. Living with the guilt of an entire village freezing to death because you weren’t able to keep your mouth shut will haunt you for the rest of your life.

“Please, go to them,” you implored, moving closer to him. “Please, do not let them freeze–these people worship you, they rely on you-”

“And they’ll keep worshipping me even if I let them die. Want to know why? You’ve already said it–they rely on me. They have no choice but to have faith in me because they’re dead either way.”

You felt your lower lip tremble as a fresh onslaught of tears dripped down your cheeks. 

“You’re horrible.”

He hummed with a small smile, giving the top of your head a patronizing pat. “Horrible and malevolent. Sounds like you hate me already.”

“I do hate you,” you growled, jerking away from his touch. 

“You have no reason to hate me yet, woman. Fret not, soon, I will give you those reasons you’re so desperately searching for.”

And with that terrifying promise, he removed himself from the bathhouse, leaving you alone to process your thoughts. Your stomach clenched as you fought back the urge to vomit. 

After calming down, your head was still reeling with fear.

You couldn’t do this anymore–you needed out.

So, with that conclusion in mind, you rushed to your chambers, bypassing the sheets of paper and ink that had been placed on your bedside table. Your fingers wrapped around the pomegranate that you left there and shoved it into a bag along with a change of clothes and something to keep you warm.

Within an hour, you were out of the shrine doors, rushing toward the gates. Your chest was on fire as you tried to gather as much air as you could to breathe properly. The pain was almost enough to have you give up, but with the gates now within your sight, you pushed forward. 

You couldn’t stay there and be the cause of anyone else’s death. The guards, the villagers, and even Hatsuyo. Their death was all your fault, and you wouldn’t stick around to cause another. 

As you neared the gates, you glanced over your shoulder to find that no one was following you. The sight gave you hope that maybe you’d done it this time. Maybe you’d actually make it out of here and back to your mother. 

But then, with your fingers wrapped around the metal of the shrine gates, a firm hand gripped your bicep, causing you to stumble back. 

And just like that, this attempt had been ruined, just like all the others. 

It ended with you being forced onto your knees in front of the king, ordered to keep your head down to show respect to him–as if he truly deserved it.

A chuckle rumbled from his chest as he shifted in his throne, rattling the large cattle skulls littered around the steps to his seat.

“How foolish of me to think you’d finally learned your lesson,” Sukuna mused, stepping down the stairs of his throne platform. When his boots entered your line of sight, his hand grabbed onto your chin, forcing your head up. “I don’t appreciate being made to look a fool, wife.”

“You do that all on your own, husband.”

A grin twitched at the corners of his mouth as he gently tapped on the side of your cheek. 

“Horrible and malevolent…” he trailed off quietly, stepping back from you. “Right?”

“Undoubtedly.”

“Mm, alright. Then you can be confident and… persistent. How does that sound?”

“Sound about right.” You straightened your back to feign his description.

“Or maybe stupid and arrogant?” he added, circling you. “Seems more fitting.”

“Fitting for you, too,” you spat, head darting toward him as he entered your peripheral vision. 

He laughed, “Maybe, but the difference between us is when I act stupid and arrogant, there are no repercussions because I am the king. You, however-” he paused in front of you, bending to your level. “You’re just a queen. So, when you act stupid and arrogant–well, a punishment is surely in order.”

Your jaw clenched. “I’d expect nothing less from someone as horrible and malevolent as you, Sukuna.”

He grabbed your jaw again, this time with more force. 

“Good. Maybe you’re not so much stupid as you are just arrogant. But, then again, it’s your arrogance that makes you stupid.” His thumb brushed along your skin as his eyes followed the motion. “However, I admire your persistence, so for that, I will cut you a deal. If you can get through this next order without making a single sound, I’ll allow you to keep your tongue.”

Your blood went cold. 

“What?”

Without taking his eyes away from you, he grabbed you with one hand and roughly ushered you up the steps to his throne before tossing you onto it. Unease, dread, and trepidation washed through you just from sitting in this seat; your body let you know just how unnatural it was for you to be there. 

“You’ll sit there and not move, lest you want me to nick something I shouldn’t.”

“What are you doing?” you asked, though you weren’t sure if you really wanted to know the answer. 

“Well, dear wife, we can’t have you trying to escape again,” he purred, grabbing onto your right calf, raising it to rest on his muscular thigh, almost as if he were about to help you slide into a pair of boots. But you knew that wasn’t what he was doing to you, not when you felt his finger massage the delicate skin on the back of your ankle. “I think severing this tendon should do the trick.”

A terrified sob escaped you as you thrashed around to escape his hold, which caused the glare on his face to harden even more. 

“Sukuna, please-”

With one hand holding your foot against his thigh, the other grabbed onto your face. 

“Remember our deal, wife. Not a sound or I’ll have your tongue, too.”

Your mouth fell open to utter another plea when his lips pressed into a flat, unmoving line. Just as his finger grazed the back of your ankle again, Sukuna clicked his tongue, watching your mouth part to let out a cry. That’s when you felt the searing pain of your tendon being severed. Instinctively, your lips parted to let out a scream, but Sukuna forced his palm over your mouth before you could.

The pain was excruciating, and you wanted nothing more than to scream out in agony, but you feared he’d take your tongue, too. So, instead, you clenched your jaw tighter as black spots started to dot the edges of your vision. Acidic bile collected in the back of your throat when you felt the second tendon being sliced in half, mixing with the blood that now coated the inside of your mouth. 

You reeled forward to get away from his torment, but were ultimately caught by him. He carried you down the steps before allowing you to collapse onto the cold floor in a shivering pile. 

His hand grabbed onto your jaw once more, lifting your head from the ground while his eyes danced around your face before landing on your mouth. It was slightly open now, leaking the blood that had seeped off the new wound on your tongue. You had almost bitten the entire thing off with how hard you were holding back your screams. 

He brushed his thumb over the trickling blood before bringing it to his mouth, sucking off the red liquid with a satisfied smirk.

“Very good. I have to admit, I really thought you might scream, but I’m glad you didn’t. I’m sure that tongue of yours will come in handy one of these days.” 

He released your face and stood to his feet above you. 

“One last thing. You’ll wear your blindfold at all times from here on out. If I ever catch you without it again, I won’t hesitate to take your eyes, because, unlike you, dear wife, I don’t go back on my promises. Hopefully, you understand that now.”

You just barely recognized his words as you faded in and out of consciousness. Eventually, your cheek hit the cold floor, just in time for him to speak to one of the guards as he departed the throne room. 

“Clean her up.”

|| MIS M.List || > PITIFUL >

confused by what you just read? Malevolence In Spring's Guide

a/n: ik that was like super terrible, but it gets better. and by it gets better, i mean Sukuna stops being so bad.

also, i had a couple of people ask for a tag list on the last chapter, and i don't mind doing that, but i just want to make sure you still want to be added after what you just read. i know it's dark, and i don't wanna tag you in it if you don't wanna read it anymore, which is totally understandable. don't hesitate to drop this if it's too much :) your mental health matters

that being said, the tag list is open for the next chapter

[w0rm3y]

Malevolence In Spring- R. Sukuna

TAGS: Hades!Sukuna x Persephone!Reader, arranged marriage, forced proximity, kidnapping, True Form!Sukuna, Husband!Sukuna

OVERALL WARNINGS: MDNI, extreme violence, graphic depictions of death, blood, body horror, physical torture, psychological torture, Stockholm Syndrome, Lima Syndrome, manipulation, toxicity, cannibalism, suicide, blood kink, spit kink, breeding kink, biting kink, size kink, monster-fucking (That man is a monster, like actually), S&M, marking, stomach/belly bulges THIS CHAPTER: violence, angst, depression, graphic depictions of death, violent death, torture, blood, but also Eros!Gojo :D

WORD COUNT: 5.2k, loosely edited lol, i'll go back and fix it later (edit: omg, I just went back to edit this chapter and holy shit, the typos and pov pronouns were fucked--i'm so sorry. i think I have them fixed now. omg this is actually embarrassing)

SUMMARY: you were taken from your home and forced to become Sukuna's wife.

“The next time you run from me, run fast and run far. Pray that I never, ever find you. If you get away from me, I swear to you, I will not stop looking for you until you’re beside me again. Mortals and deities fear me for a reason, and I don’t mind showing you why they all share that sentiment. Understand, wife?”

|| MIS M.List || > NEUTRALITY > DELICACIES; lichoudiés; λιχουδιές

The first time you had ever heard of his name was the night a raven arrived at your home, bearing a note. Some might call this note a proposal. You, on the other hand, read it as a warning. This overture was nothing more than a demand, lined with threats, sealed with a promise, and signed by the King of Curses.

There was no room for negotiations in this matter. The king wanted a wife–a queen.

Unfortunately, you had been the one to catch his eye. 

While his covenant stripped you of any decision in the matter, at least he was so gracious as to give you a week to come to terms with it. Your mother wept for you; she wept with you, all the way up until that dreadful day when his carriage came to a halt in front of your home.

A guard approached the door, head bowed and silent, not uttering a single word before ushering you toward the carriage. Your mother screamed for you, chased after you, and fought against the guard, but it was no use. After being tossed inside, the door slammed shut, and the carriage began to move. 

You didn’t see Sukuna that night. Or, the next night. Your wedding took place on the third day, and the entire ceremony was nothing but a blur. You had been instructed to keep your head down and your mouth closed, so not even then had you laid eyes upon your husband. 

Shockingly, he didn’t come to visit you that night as most husbands would. After the ceremony, you were quickly ushered to your room by your ladies-in-waiting and left there to rot. They brought you food three times a day, but you didn’t eat it. They bathed and clothed you, but there was no sense in doing so as you were confined to the walls of your new bedroom. 

On the seventh day, you made your first escape, only to be captured before making it out of the castle doors. The punishment was a single lashing, cracked against your back. It did little to sway your persistence, and you found yourself making another attempt that very night. 

This time, you made it to the bottom of the castle steps before they captured you, toting you off to the torture room, where they whipped the bottom of your feet. But the pain only ignited your determination to make it out of there. You gave yourself a day to heal, and while doing so, you procured what you’d need to have a successful escape. 

You almost had it, too. Escaping through the Hunting Grounds, though you didn’t know its name at the time, was shockingly easy. But, as it turns out, the Hunting Grounds were avoided on purpose due to the giant, deadly monsters that prowled there, hunting for their next meals. That night was one you’ll always remember– coming face to face with curses that left you with nightmares. 

While running from the monsters, you stumbled back through the Hunting Grounds and were ultimately caught by the guards. This time, you were brought to the throne room rather than the torture room. They placed you on your knees before the king, instructing you to keep your eyes on the ground.

That was the first time you’d heard his voice, and it came in the form of taunts and sardonic questions before ordering the guards to give you a punishment. That’s exactly what you’d hear for the next week: punishments ordered to the guards by the king for your many attempts to escape this horrid place. 

The last punishment doled out by the guards, you couldn’t help but wonder as they beat your body, and your mind strayed to your supposed husband and how much of a coward he really was. To order your torture and not be the one to execute it? How pathetic.

But after granting you your wish, the first punishment given to you by your husband, per your request, had you wanting nothing more than to return to the physical pain created by the guards. Sukuna was right, he didn’t need to lay a finger on you to get his point across– after all, pain was always the driving force that kept you pushing for an escape. 

You didn’t assume someone as brutal and cruel as Sukuna would choose a less tactile approach when it came to punishment. Your hope had been riling the king up to the point of no return, praying he’d take all his fury out on you and finally end your suffering once and for all. You knew the chances of that were slim– how could a god like himself ever truly lose control? Yet, there was always a chance. 

Until that, too, had been ripped away from you when he subjected you to the mental torture of sucking another person’s blood off of his fingers. For two weeks, those guards had spent beating your body black and blue in hopes of breaking you down into a mindless shell. But, as it seems, all of their efforts had been in vain. Sukuna was doing more to destroy your psyche in a matter of minutes than the guards had this entire time. 

As much as you wanted to spite the man who calls himself your husband, as much as you wanted to prove him wrong and continue to make your escape out of there, you couldn’t. You feared he’d do something worse than having you clean his hands of the blood he’d spill. 

Like forcing these stupid feelings into your chest while subjecting you to the most dehumanizing and humiliating form of punishment known to man, granted, they were almost microscopic zings of warmth, but still, they were there. 

And it was sickening. 

As your handmaiden, Hatsuyo, brushed through your hair, she offered you gentle compliments and subtle praise to soothe you. It did very little, but you appreciated the effort nonetheless. 

“Your hair is taking on a brighter shade, my queen.”

Emotionlessly, you replied, “How lovely, Hatsuyo.”

Your handmaiden sighed, taking note of your tone–or lack thereof-and asked, “Any particular hairstyle today? You are accompanying the king to a hearing; that’s a big deal. Lots of people show up to these, so maybe you’d like to dress up. It could lift your spirits-”

“Thank you, but I do not think there is much that will lift my spirits unless it’s a carriage ride home. Do not put yourself out to make me feel better. Your efforts will always be in vain.”

She was quiet for a moment, looking at you through the mirror you sat in front of before releasing another sigh. “The usual style, then, my queen?”

“Please.”

Just as she was putting the final touches on your attire, the atmosphere shifted into something colder before the door swung open, startling both you and Hatsuyo.

“I–oh, my king!” 

As Hatsuyo addressed him, bowing down, your gaze dropped to the floor, and you turned to face away from him. You had not forgotten what he said about the blindfold, so you quickly scrambled to find it. 

“I apologize, my king! The queen is almost finished, but she does not have her mask on yet!”

His icy voice was so cold as he said, “I instructed you to have her ready half an hour before the hearing.”  

Your hands wrapped around the maroon silk as you tied it behind your head, shielding your vision from both of them. Still, you did not raise your head.

“And I am ready now. Will you be escorting me to the hearing, my king?”

“Indeed.” 

His arm curled around your bicep as he dragged you out of your chambers and into the cold hallway. Shivers cascaded across your spine as his hand trailed down your arm, settling around your waist. Your fingertips were then guided to the soft fabric of his haori. 

“You may grab onto my clothing for guidance.”

Your fingers gripped the clothing tightly, and when you felt it start to go taught, you began following beside him. His pace was rather fast, so you lengthened your strides to keep up with him.

The air breezing past him hit you in the face, filling your senses with the smell of him; incense smoke with a hint of something darker, yet sweet–something one could equate to the recently deceased.

Fitting, isn’t it?

Because why would this god of the dead smell like anything else?

“I am not one to do so, but I would like to commend you,” he began, voice tapering off into a purr of sorts.

“Why is that, my king?”

He hummed, seemingly satisfied. “For starters, I appreciate the properly reciprocated honorifics as of late. After your first two weeks here, I thought this lesson would take more time to teach you, wife.”

Your jaw clenched. “Have I impressed you, husband?”

He exhaled, sated with your compliance. “That you have. I’d also like to mention that your lack of escaping–or, trying to escape, I should say–has not gone unnoticed. For both of these, you shall be rewarded.”

“You are too generous, my king.”

“Nonsense. You deserve it.” 

After a few more paces, his steps came to a halt as his hand slid out, pressing into the softness of your belly when you walked into it. Upon the startling contact, you gasped, jolting away from his touch. 

“Careful,” he warned gently, just in time for the grating sound of the doors being slid apart to echo through the room in front of you. 

The tightness in your lead was your signal to begin moving again. Once your shoes sank into the familiar-feeling carpet, you could only assume that you had entered the throne room. You flinched when the doors roughly slid shut behind you, a movement that did not go unnoticed by the king. 

He released a breathy chuckle, asking, “Are you nervous?”

“A bit,” you gritted out, fingers curling tighter around his haori. 

When you made it to what you assumed was the end of the aisle, his hand curled underneath the back of your thighs as he raised you into the air. The feeling threw you off kilter, and to steady yourself, your hands shot out to reaffirm your grip on his clothing.

You felt as though you were flying as he carried you up the steps, and when he allowed your body to slide to the floor again, you felt like you were free-falling. You swayed as your feet touched the floor, but he was quick to catch you before you fell. 

It had been weeks since you’d last seen him in person, but if there was one thing that you remembered about him, it was his staggering stature. At the very least, he had to be over seven and a half feet tall, which was absolutely towering over your much shorter frame. 

“You will sit at my feet during the hearing.” His large hand pushed down on your shoulder, silently giving you the command to lower yourself to the ground, which you did. “Don’t speak, don’t scream, don’t move–not until I say so, understand?”

“Yes, my king.”

His hand settled on the top of your head. He gave you a pat before his fingers slid from your hair and back down to his side when he said, “Repeat those rules back to me.”

“Don’t speak, don’t scream, don’t move. Not until you say so.”

“Good. Make sure to follow them exactly. I’d hate to lose you before you get to see your reward.” His words sent icy horror through your whole body, bringing chills to speckle your skin and your mouth to dry out completely. “Bring him in,” he commanded the group that was apparently in front of you.

You heard the shuffling of their feet before the sound of scraping wood and unlatching locks. Soon, a cold breeze overtook the throne room, followed by an odd thumping sensation from the ground. Seconds passed as the vibrations got harsher and louder. 

When you heard a deep, baritone growl, you understood the need for Sukuna’s rules.

“You may remove your blindfold, wife.”

You swallowed thickly, whispering as quietly as possible, “Yes, husband.” With trembling fingers, you reached behind your head and pulled the knot out of the ribbon, allowing it to fall from your eyes. The scene in front of you was like no other, something one could only equate to a night terror that developed out of a restless fever dream. A horrid feeling settled in the atmosphere of the throne room.

Your eyes were drawn to the nightmare in the corner of the room, bound in chains and seemingly calm. When you came across this specific curse on the hunting grounds, this tame of a beast was not one that you remembered. What you expected to see from him was gnashing teeth, snapping at the ones who so bravely brought him into the room via the giant door that led outside, yet the curse merely swayed back and forth.

Wind from the cold winter air brushed in through the giant doors that were being drawn shut, pushing the permeating scent of the curse to you, and churning your stomach with fervor. If the scent of death that lingered on Sukuna was enough to nauseate you, the putrid odor from this beast brought tears to your eyes. Your hand moved to your mouth to hold back the impending gag.

Bloody slobber dripped from the three-headed monster’s mouth, pooling on the floor in thick pink puddles. Scattered in the viscous liquid were fleshy chunks of whatever his last meal was. It was all too sickening.

Your eyes scanned the rest of the room, taking note of all the people who were bowing in front of you, paying no mind to the beast that was only a few feet away from them. You jumped when you felt Sukuna’s hand pet against the top of your head.

“You remember what I said about your eyes, don’t you?”

“Yes, my king.”

You already knew that the removal of your blindfold in that moment was only temporary, and looking at him was still forbidden.

He gave you one last gentle pat before removing his hand. “Good.” He then spoke to the crowd in front of you. “While the effects of the sedatives wear off on my pet, we shall begin the hearing. Who is first?”

Thus began the cycle of people stepping forward to ask Sukuna for his help in various things, not without a form of payment, of course. It soon became apparent to you that while Sukuna considers himself a god, he did not accept his worship from mortals as the other deities did. He did not allow them to pray from afar and answer them. No, he wanted to see their worship first hand–to hear their begging prayers with his own ears. 

The sight was something he found to be entertaining, if his grumbling laughter was any indication. The first few queries were simple–more grain for their livestock in exchange for meat after the slaughter, a horse or two to travel far and search for goods in exchange for some of those goods, firewood to warm the home of a pregnant wife in exchange for the newborn after the birth. 

However, the last one did not go over well with the king. 

“You’d hand over your newborn in exchange for firewood? Am I hearing you correctly, mortal?” Sukuna spat, bearing disdain, thickening the tension in the room. 

The shivering man nearly crumbled from the prying question. With his head cast down to his feet, he nodded. “Yes, my king. This winter season is proving to be too cold for my wife-”

“What would I do with a newborn?”

“Whatever you wish, my king. It will be yours.”

“And if I decided that I wanted to eat it, what then?”

The man’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Then so be it.”

Sukuna clicked his tongue, repeating the man’s words back to him before asking, “Does your wife know you’re here, bartering away her unborn child to me?”

“Yes, my king.”

Behind you, Sukuna chuckled, almost humorlessly. It was a sound that raised the hair on the back of your neck.

“Wife?”

Your blood went cold as he finally addressed you. “Yes, husband?”

“What are your thoughts on the matter?”

He was asking you? He wanted you to give your opinion during a hearing?

“I think it’s foolish and otherwise disgusting to trade the life of your own flesh and blood before it’s even seen the light of day, my king. For wood, no less.” Your jaw clenched as you watched the man who was bowing below the throne start to shiver in fear, making your heart lurch. “But I find his bravery to stand before the king and ask such things for the benefit of his wife to be a little courageous.”

Sukuna barked out a laugh. “You think he’s courageous?”

“To step before you. Yes, I do.”

“Am I so fearsome?” he coyly asked. 

Your jaw ticked, clenching tightly to keep from muttering curses under your breath. “Not to me,” you spat, earning a few quiet gasps from the crowd. “But to that man down there, clearly you are. He is frightened.”

“He should be after offering me something as ridiculous as an unborn child. As if I couldn’t make one on my own.”

The man whimpered, muttering, “I apologize, my king-”

“Silence,” Sukuna commanded him, voice steady and eerily calm. “Wife, what would you have me do? How should the ruling for this proceed?”

Another one of your opinions?

He was sick in the head for suggesting his child in the first place, but to send him back empty-handed, to freeze all winter with his pregnant wife–you couldn’t imagine a more miserable death.

“Give him what he asks for.”

“And what do you suggest I do with a newborn?”

“Let them keep it. As you said, you can create one of your own.”

He hummed, fingers wrapping around your long braid, tugging on it gently. The action sent shocks of satisfaction down your spine and across your skin. 

“You’re aware of how newborns are made, correct? Are you suggesting something?”

Your face warmed. “N-No, my king–I-”

“If I let them keep it,” Sukuna interrupted you, something you were immensely grateful for. “What’s in it for me?” He directed his question toward the man. 

“I do not have anything else to offer, my king.”

“Hmm,” Sukuna trailed off, grip tightening on your braid, unfortunately creating more sparks on your body. “Where are you from, mortal?”

“The village in the east, right along the river.”

He kissed his teeth, shifting in his throne again. “Since your queen is so generous to send firewood to your home, and since you have nothing else to offer me besides your life, you’ll give me just that.” 

Before anyone had time to comprehend what was about to happen next, you watched a thin red line form across the man’s throat. He looked to you, addled by what just happened to him, and brought his hands to his neck, feeling the red line that had begun to seep little droplets of blood. Rivulets of the red liquid intensified until it was apparent that his head had been entirely severed from his neck and was just resting there. 

Your stomach rolled with nausea as the man wordlessly fell to the ground, landing with a sickening thud, now dead. His head rolled a couple of feet away toward another one of the townsfolk, who was still bowing to the man behind you as if they didn’t know one of their own had just been decapitated right beside them.

There was a tug at your braid again as Sukuna asked, “How was that?” When you opened your mouth to speak, all that you could produce was a quiet, raspy squeak before you forced your mouth shut in an attempt to swallow the rising bile in your throat. “Does this count as dirtying my hands with blood? After all, it was me who took his head, even though I didn’t touch him. Did you know I could do that, wife?”

A single tear dripped out of your eye as the fear of who you were now married to truly began to sink in. Of course, you’d heard stories of the man who could wreak havoc on an entire village with a simple swipe of his hand, but you’d thought they were fables–mere rumors parents created to keep their children from wandering alone at night. Now that you’d seen the truth of it firsthand, the terror set in.

You knew your lack of answer irritated him when he yanked on your hair, forcefully bringing your head back to smash against the edge of the throne. 

“I want to hear your voice; did you know I could do that?”

Shakily, you breathed, “No.”  

“How pathetic,” Sukuna sneered, though you know it was geared toward the headless man on the floor. “He’d rather hand his child off to someone like me in hopes of warming his wife instead of offering himself up in the child’s place. Tsk, tsk–not very courageous now, is he, wife?

The tears that streamed down your face tasted salty once they hit your tongue. You couldn’t find your voice as you watched the blood continue to seep out of that man’s throat, in streams so thick and red, filling the room with a metallic hint. You almost forgot that he’d asked you a question until he gave your braid another tug, this time more harsh than before.

“Answer me.”

“N-No, no–he is not…courageous.”

He made a sound, chest rumbling with satisfaction as he eased his hold on your braid, instead opting to pat your head again, mumbling, “Good…”

No one uttered a word as the corpse continued to pump out blood for what felt like hours. It was as if Sukuna was giving you the chance to witness how disgustingly violent he could be, to act as a warning, maybe.

“Uraume, if you would,” he muttered to someone on the other side of his throne. If you weren’t absolutely terrified, you might’ve been curious as to who he was talking to. Though you didn’t have to wait much longer as you watched a white haired boy in a monk’s robe step forward to begin cleaning up the mess. When he was finished, he dragged the body away, which prompted Sukuna to address the crowd again. “Who is next?”

As your heart finally started to slow after watching the morbid acne that happened in front of you, a man approached the throne. However, this man was different. He did not bow his head and even offered you a small smile when his eyes caught yours. 

He’s going to die, you thought. 

Your heart dropped at that upsetting realization that you were going to have to watch yet another person be decapitated right in front of you today. But, as he continued venturing forward, even after eyeing the man on the throne behind you, his body remained intact. Not even Sukuna stirred or chastised him for not bowing down. 

Perhaps this was another friend?

No, that couldn’t be. This man was too kind-looking, too innocent and friendly to ever be friends with a monster like Sukuna. His bright blue eyes were wide with confidence, and his short white hair dipped down into his line of sight, creating such boyish charm.

You thought he looked rather handsome, too handsome to die.

“Sukuna,” he greeted, bowing his head for a moment before bringing his attention to you, acknowledging you with your name. 

Before you could greet him back, Sukuna began speaking. “I’ll admit, I’m surprised to see you here. What’s a god doing in one of my hearings? This is for the begging mortals, you know?”

A fellow god, one of the same rank as Sukuna, so, of course, he would greet the king as an equal.

But still, you wondered who he was.

“I’m here to offer a proposition that will be advantageous to both of us. I figured this would be the easiest way to talk to you. I know how busy you must be as newlyweds.”

“Not as busy as you might think.”

The god in front of you seemed a little shocked as his cerulean eyes widened. “Is that so? Perhaps I can be of assistance.”

Sukuna chuckled, “Your arrows aren’t necessary. I can manage on my own. Besides, she’s yet to consume the ambrosia. She’s still a mortal, isn’t that right, wife?”

The one in front of you smiled, and somehow, even in this position, the smile was so welcoming and comforting that even you could feel it on your skin. 

“Yes, husband.”

“We can consummate the marriage when she’s immortal.”

You froze as those words slithered out of his mouth. 

“Interesting,” the one in front of you began. “Why not have her eat the ambrosia at the wedding ceremony? It’s usually expected, isn’t it?”

“She just turned 18 this spring. I’d rather not have to bed a teenager for the rest of my existence, so I decided to hold off on doing so for a couple of years. Besides, twenty is the perfect age to bear healthy children.”

Your brain went silent after that, shutting down to process the new emotions flowing through you. The way they were talking about you as if you weren’t even there, as if you were only a piece of property meant to be owned–it made you feel sick.

“...now, I have a gift for my wife.”

That’s when you were drawn back into their conversation, realizing you’d missed all of it, only able to catch the tail end. The god in front of you bowed kindly at Sukuna’s dismissal and resumed his position in the crowd. Once again, your husband’s fingers wrapped around your braid as he began twisting it around his wrist and hand, pulling on it in a calming way. 

“Are you excited?” he asked quietly.

“Ecstatic,” you spat, pulling against the hold on your hair. 

“Bring them out,” he commanded the small group of guards, who swiftly moved to the doors of the throne room before opening them, and shuffling in a group of men, all of them blindfolded and naked. You sat still as they were lined up before the throne. “Do you recognize these men?”

Your eyes flitted to each of their faces, none of them looking familiar. 

“No, my king.”

“These men were in the group that was sent out to find you the last night you tried to escape. I ordered them to retrieve you and to bring you back to me, safe and uninjured.”

You swallowed thickly, knowing where this was going. “These men did not drag me here. The man who did it is already dead–I am wearing a part of his uniform as a blindfold-”

“Correct, but your knees are still bruised. Had these men fought harder to find you, perhaps you wouldn’t have ended up injured. This entire shift of guards has been sentenced to death.”

“What?”

“Let this serve as a reminder to the other men-at-arms; my wife, your queen, is the second-highest-ranking entity in this room and deserves to be treated as such. Now, apologize.”

Your hand moved backward to keep yourself supported upright, but rather than hitting the floor, you grabbed onto his shoe and quickly retracted. You didn’t realize he was sitting so close behind, and that thought in itself was frightening. 

But not as frightening as watching those grown men bow to you, muttering their apologies for an act they had no part in. 

“My king, th– this is not fair!”

“What did I say about speaking without permission in this hearing?”

Your fingers gripped his shoe tightly as tears pooled in your eyes, threatening to escape. “My king, please, I do not-”

However, the rest of your words were suffocated by a massive hand cupping over your mouth as he dragged you back and up onto his lap. You fought against his hold, heart thumping out of control, but the resistance was useless. 

Especially when he leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Do you know how delicate you are in my hands, wife? Gods, how easy it would be to snap your pretty little neck right now. I could do it so fast, you wouldn’t feel a thing.” Your movements ceased instantly while you panted into his hand. He made a sound of approval. “There we go,” he condescendingly cooed. 

You swallowed harshly and relaxed into his chest as he pulled you back. The fact that his scent–no, his entirety, catered to a certain feeling inside of you was terribly heartbreaking. You hated this man; he was your captor, your tormentor, yet he still had the ability to make you feel things you’d never want to feel about a man like him. 

“Let’s begin!” 

Oh, gods, all these men were about to be decapitated right in front of you in a slice so quick. However, the cutting never came. Instead, the men were forced onto their knees by the guards as Sukuna whistled sharply, the sound echoing off the walls. 

It was then that you realized why the men were not losing their heads. Sukuna had no intention of putting these men out of their misery so quickly. No, he had something much more petrifying in mind. 

With wide eyes, you looked over when you heard the sound of shifting chains in the corner. The beast shook all three of its heads, slinging slobber through the throne room. As it blinked away the droopy look in its eyes, it honed in on the men lined up in the middle of the room. 

“Remember those rules, wife?”

You nodded your head, too scared to speak. 

After making sure you knew the rules, Sukuna raised his hand, signaling for the guards that were holding the chains attached to the curse to drop them. As soon as they did, the slobbering fiend morphed into the one you’d come across on the hunting grounds. 

The curse gnashed his teeth at the first man, picking him up and biting down on his head with a horrifying crunch. Another beastly mouth grabbed onto the man’s lower body and pulled. The two heads began to play tug of war with the corpse until finally, it split in two, splattering blood all over. 

You flinched back when a big spray of it coated the floor in front of the throne. The halved man was harshly chewed up and swallowed before the monster moved onto the next man in line. 

After the fifth man you witnessed get ripped to pieces, you shut off your brain, entering an emotionless state that made this nightmare bearable. And this is where you intended to mentally stay for the rest of your existence here.

|| MIS M.List || > NEUTRALITY >

confused by what you just read? Malevolence In Spring's Guide

[w0rm3y]

Malevolence In Spring- R. Sukuna

TAGS: Hades!Sukuna x Persephone!Reader, arranged marriage, forced proximity, kidnapping, True Form!Sukuna, Husband!Sukuna

OVERALL WARNINGS: MDNI, extreme violence, graphic depictions of death, blood, body horror, physical torture, psychological torture, Stockholm Syndrome, Lima Syndrome, manipulation, toxicity, cannibalism, suicide, blood kink, spit kink, breeding kink, biting kink, size kink, monster-fucking (That man is a monster, like actually), S&M, marking, stomach/belly bulges THIS CHAPTER: violence, angst, depression, graphic depictions of death, blood, cannibalism

WORD COUNT: 4.3k

SUMMARY: you were taken from your home and forced to become Sukuna's wife.

“The next time you run from me, run fast and run far. Pray that I never, ever find you. If you get away from me, I swear to you, I will not stop looking for you until you’re beside me again. Mortals and deities fear me for a reason, and I don’t mind showing you why they all share that sentiment. Understand, wife?”

Author's Note At The End :) I'm Nervous To Be Here tbh

|| MIS M.List || > DELICACIES > GIFT; dóro; δώρο

Optimism always came to you easily; it was always without a fight, ingrained so deeply in your mind thanks to the lessons from your mother. She made this brutal world seem so light and delicate. She shielded you from the monstrosities the gods created; she kept you safe and sound, nestled right under her wing. Seventeen years beside her, raised to mirror her actions perfectly–how could you ever see this world as something so dark and terrible with the golden hue that radiated from her? And, gods, it was so blinding.

However, there was always something that followed after light, which was intimidating and overwhelming, but at the same time, it was invisible: darkness. It was as if it didn’t exist in the world your mother raised you in. When she showed you how to glow with the same intensity as her, you were confident that darkness would never touch you. Your constant hope for all things good gave that light some structure, portraying it all to be impenetrable, while leaving the sweetest taste on your tongue.

Your life was good.

But that was then, and this is now, and you can admit that the pitiful blight that is your life had never tasted so bitter. Your light, your optimism, your hope–all of it was nothing but a guise used to keep yourself ignorant of the evil in this world. 

Only two weeks since your arrival at the shrine, and you had already been stripped of everything you once knew, replacing it with this all-consuming feeling of melancholic despondency and deeply ingrained hatred. It made you wonder if this negativity was always there, innate and primal, or if you’d adapted to this new life.

“...you, my dear daughter, are the precursor of soft raindrops on delicate blossoms, the beginning of rebirth and growth amongst the lands, the start of a warmer season. You are the bringer of spring, undoubtedly one of the most important. The sun, the moon, the earth, they all thank you…”

If that were true, how could they allow this monster to take you and bring you here, to the land of rot and decay? The rain here isn’t soft; it’s harsh, overbearing, and tastes of poison, too deadly for delicate blossoms. Rebirth is nonexistent, growth never comes, everything here is dead, and there is no promise of a warmer season to come in the middle of the vast land of death. 

If you are the bringer of spring, what are you doing here in a dark place that sucks up all sources of light, your own included? 

Was your mother a liar? 

Your waning optimism is starting to make you feel deluded. Your eyes have not yet adjusted to the darkness of this place, and you’re starting to see figures in the black night. 

You’re no longer the bringer of spring; that title was stripped from you two weeks ago when you were brought here and placed before the king for your wedding ceremony. As a gift, he bestowed upon you two new titles: his queen and his wife.

Both made you utterly sick, and your stomach had not stopped churning since receiving them.

The guard’s fingertips sank deeply into your bicep as he dragged you down the stone-wall corridor. His pace was relentless, not once slowing down to give you the chance to stand to your feet. Your knees scraped against the polished marble flooring, catching with the friction and ripping off the top layers of the already-tattered skin. 

You begged, screamed, bargained, but it all seemed to fall on deaf ears.

Even as you traversed this labyrinth of passageways, you knew where you were and where you were going. This part of the shrine was a forbidden place to be, unless, of course, you were summoned by him. To be called upon by the king for any reason should be nerve-wracking, but to be called for a punishable crime? Well, it should far surpass the nerve-wracking feeling, teetering toward the farthest edge of petrifying. 

However, you were different.

Would he order your death this time? Would he finally be the one to hand out justice for your attempted escape? If so, you knew it was wishful thinking that this time, the punishment might be enough to finally put you out of your misery. The chances of your powerful king taking it too far were slim to none. That was the only shred of hope that you had left. Anything else was long gone.

The doors to the throne room were roughly slid open, hitting the stop with a harsh sound, which echoed throughout the large room. Exhaustion crept in as you fought against the guard. The walk from the outskirts of the shrine gates to the throne room was a long one, and you had been fighting him the entire way back.

You could hear the amused chuckle of the king sitting on his throne as you were dragged down the center of the room. With a grumbling huff, the guard tossed you onto your knees, supplying them with one last injury before he stepped back into line with the other guards to assume his usual position. 

Bile continued to rise in the back of your throat, churning your stomach terribly. Your face was sticky from the dried tears, holding onto pieces of your hair uncomfortably. Still, despite your discomfort, you didn’t raise a hand to wipe the strands away, and instead kept your head down to avoid seeing the king.

His calm, baritone voice filled the room abruptly, making you jump with your fraying nerves. “Rise, wife.”

The swirling in your gut intensified when he spoke, dizzying your head, and sending you falling forward until your shaky arms steadied yourself before you could faceplant on the floor. Dry heaves racked your body, bringing up nothing from your empty stomach–you hadn’t eaten in days, you refused to do so, and you refused to sleep, too. You couldn’t do either in a place like this. You wanted to go home.

However, your wishes were never granted here.

After calming down your gag reflex and standing to your feet with your head still cast down, you answered shakily, “Of course, my king.” The sound he made was of irritated discontent, all because of the honorific you chose to address him with, knowing he didn’t favor it much after all the times he’s corrected you so far. Today would be no different; he’d correct you just the same as before. 

“When I address you as my wife, I expect you to address me as your husband.”

You gritted your teeth, mumbling, “And once I am treated as a wife, only then will that wish be granted to you, my king.” 

You made sure to tack that honorific on there, pushing as much malice into it as possible, though he seemed to find it humorous instead of aggravating. He only chuckled and shifted on his throne. 

“It’s not a wish, it is a command–one you will follow, lest you wish to reap the consequences. Have your previous punishments taught you nothing?”

“They’ve taught me that there is a lot I can get away with without having to fear death by you,” you snickered humorlessly, hoping he’d at least find that irritating. When it didn’t seem to work, you made sure to add more fuel to the fire. “And that the disgraced one, the king of curses, is nothing but a fucking coward.”

Your words were an act of blasphemy, treasonous and treacherous. You found yourself praying that he’d react violently, yet he didn’t. Of course not, he is a god before he is a king–what use would he have for tossing caution to the wind for someone like you? He’d remain calm, he always did.

“I find it interesting and… pathetic that the worst thing you assume I can do to you is kill you. Death, my dear wife, is merciful, and that is not a trait I’ll have anyone presume about me. Nor am I a coward, but I am receptive–to a degree, of course.” You couldn’t help but scoff as he continued, “But I am most receptive to you. So, tell me, what do you find so cowardly about me?”

You forced yourself to swallow the lump in your throat as your mouth began to dry out. 

“You… you have me punished,” you answered through a clenched jaw. 

“Actions have consequences, even for a queen. That does not make me a coward.”

“Yet it is not you who doles out these punishments. If you condemn me to these tortures, at least be the one to spill blood–or are you too scared? You should not have these men do it for you-!”

“Lower your voice when speaking to the king,” a guard spat from beside you. Quickly, you realized it was the same one who dragged you here. 

“You must confuse valor with impertinence, man,” you hissed with concentrated venom. Your gaze slid down his form with disgust. You took pride in knowing there was very little he could actually do to you without the king’s command. “I outrank you. Learn your place and address me with respect.”

The king’s rumbling laughter cut through the tension like a sharp blade, pulling your attention away from the guard.

“You’ve been here two weeks, and this is the first I’ve seen you use your title to your advantage. I’ll admit, you’ve impressed me.” Your teeth sank into your tongue deep enough to draw blood while you gazed down at your feet. The self-disgust settled over your skin from the small amount of warmth his praise made you feel. “Just for that, I think I’ll humor you, but first, I’d like to hear you call me your husband-”

“Only when I am treated as a wife.”

He clicked his tongue before purring, “I treat you as a wife–as my wife-”

“Are you sure? You won’t even let me look at you,” you snarled as the hot tears dripped down your cheeks. “That, my king, is the most cowardly. Are you so insecure that you must treat me less than? Treat me like a slave?”

He laughed again, cutting through your sniffling with precision. “You want to look at me? Is that what you’re trying to say?” His echoing footsteps ate up the deafening silence in the room as he stepped down the throne stairs, making his way closer until he was right in front of you. His large shadow covered you in another layer of darkness, supplying you with such a sense of inferiority. “Is that what will placate this incessant behavior of yours? To keep you from running off every chance you get?”

“I think it’s a start to being treated as a wife-”

He released an annoyed huff before grousing, “So you’ve said. And, as I’ve said, you are treated like a wife. You’re treated like my wife, and if I want to treat my wife like a slave, so be it.” 

You gasped, flinching away from his large hand when it moved from his side to the underside of your chin, forcing your face up. Your eyes squeezed shut, your body begging you not to look at him–you know better. 

“I’m giving you permission to look at me, woman.”

When you didn’t respond, his grip on your jaw turned brutal, silently commanding you to open your eyes. Begrudgingly, you did so, exhaling a pained whimper in the process. Seconds after, the sound that left you was a gasp–one out of complete shock as you looked up at him. 

This… was… him?

This was your tormentor? Your husband?

How can someone so barbaric–so cruel, be so… beautiful?

The corners of his mouth twitched, but never did he smile, nor smirk. He remained stoic and emotionless, much like a void. He released your jaw and took a step away from your form. Instantly, you lowered your head, something he was quick to correct.

“Head high, wife. I want to see your eyes.” You obeyed, finally giving in to the urges your body had been screaming at you for the last two weeks. You’ve wanted nothing more than to see what he looked like. The act had seemed so forbidden for so long that this felt almost… pleasurable. “Who spoke out of turn to their queen? Was it you? Speak now before you’re all released to the hunting grounds.”

“It was him, my king!” one of the guards snitched, pushing the body beside them to the front. The king didn’t hesitate to grip him by the throat and present him in front of you on his knees.

“Answer truthfully. Do you wish to look your queen in the eyes?” he asked him, holding his head back. The guard frantically shook his head, denying the question, much to the king’s delight. 

Everyone knew the rule about looking someone of higher rank in the eyes–it wasn’t supposed to happen. 

“Yet you speak to her without permission and without addressing her title. It seems to me that you think of her as an equal. Am I correct to assume that?”

“N-No, my king! Of course, not!”

“You brought her to me, yes?”

“Yes, my king! As soon as you reported her missing to our shift, we set off to find her and bring her home safely!”

“Just safely?” he asked, chuckling and yanking on the guard’s hair roughly. “I believe there was more to the order, wasn’t there? I said to bring her home safely and entirely uninjured.”

“Yes, of course, my king!”

He hummed over the groveling guard with a grin. “Hm, so it begs the question, why is the skin on her knees ripped and bleeding?”

The guard shook his head, feigning ignorance. “I do not know, my king-”

“Bullshit!” you snapped, unable to help yourself. “You dragged me all the way here-!”

You watched the guard's eyes widen. “No! No, I did not, my king-!”

“The queen is speaking, so you will listen.”

You swallowed thickly before continuing, “He dragged me here. All the way from the outskirts of the shrine gates. He walked so fast that I could not keep up.”

“I see.” The king looked at you with a darkening glimmer in his red eyes before announcing, “His punishment is your decision, then.”

Your stomach dropped, blood draining from your face fast enough to make you feel light-headed. “M-Me?”

“Of course. Rank means everything to me, and as you’ve said, you outrank him. What do you deem acceptable for his punishment, wife?”

You looked down at the face of the guard, noting the tears that were now spilling out of his eyes. 

How pathetic…

He had laughed when he captured you. Even as you begged and screamed for him to let go, for him to show mercy, he only laughed. This man found amusement in your torture. 

Disgusting…

“Kill him,” you ordered, uttering those two words that solidified the monster you had become since moving here. But at this point, you didn’t care. Could things really get any worse? The least life could do was throw a little retribution your way, right? “I’ll leave the… artistic freedom up to you.”

“How thoughtful,” the king cooed before forcing his fingers into the throat of the guard. Skin and tendons tore apart with a sickening snap! While blood began to pump out of his ripped jugular, pooling on the floor around him. When the guard was dead, the king let his body collapse onto the floor. The sound of his corpse splashing in the shallow pool of liquid was stomach-churning.

Somehow, the king’s face didn’t change. He truly was void of all emotion, even looking death in the face like that.

Life really meant nothing to him. 

“Is my wife satisfied?” he asked satirically, eyes slinking from the corpse up to you. 

You felt frozen under his intense gaze. “I–um, yes.”

“And do you feel like a wife now?”

Your throat started tightening with the growing tension. You’d never felt more minuscule in your entire life, especially after watching him rip this man apart with such ease. “Yes, my king.”

“No, try again. Do you feel like a wife now?”

So, as much as it made you feel sick to finally admit your true union to this monster, you couldn’t help it. 

“Yes, husband.”

He sighed, a bit of tension releasing from his shoulders. For the first time ever, a semblance of a smile curved onto his mouth before it was dropped completely. 

But it was there, you saw it. 

You would remember it–maybe even tell others about it someday if you ever got out of here. 

It’s a memory you’ll always tote around with you because any bit of happiness, any bit of warmth, any bit of compassion that might have been behind that smile was gone. 

It was all gone as a freezing chill overtook the room.

“Am I less cowardly now that I have some blood on my hands, dear wife?” 

The change in his temperament wasn’t physically noticeable, but you could feel it. 

It was terrifying. 

 “Dirtying my hands with blood is a regular occurrence for me, you know? Of course, you’ve yet to see that for yourself because I was under the impression it was impolite and inconsiderate to do so in front of you. So, I ask you again, am I less cowardly now that I have blood on my hands?”

It was a trick–you knew better than to answer. 

“I asked you a question,” he purred lowly, taunting you, teasing you. 

“I don’t have an answer.”

“I just want your opinion. That’s all.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, ripping it to shreds until a metallic taste seeped over my tongue. “You’re still a coward, even with blood on your hands. Doing all of this doesn’t make up for the number of times those guards have laid their hands on me, per your request. You were never man enough to do it yourself; your cowardice made others punish me for you.”

“Mmm, I see. It’s about spilling your blood, not doling out punishments to the ones who deserve it, am I right? Just because I don’t get blood on my hands doesn’t make me a coward; it’s the fact that I don’t have your blood on my hands that does it. You see, that’s just a bit confusing, but at the end of the day, you’re asking for me to punish you personally instead of these men, right?”

“Unless you’re too much of a coward.”

He nodded, stepping closer when you took a few paces back. “I’m not scared to punish you, woman. I felt as though I was being lenient by letting these men do it for me. They have a softer touch after all-”

“Fuck you. There’s nothing soft about what they’ve done to me.”

“And you think I’d be soft with you? I’m not perceived to be gentle with anyone, not even my wife. But if it’s me that you want, who am I to sway your mind? On your knees.”

You faltered. “What?”

“On. Your. Knees.”

Still, you were frozen. His command was horrifying.

He wouldn’t… would he?

You didn’t have much more time to contemplate it before the back of your knees caved in, sending you crashing to the ground, splashing in the coagulating pool of blood. The light blue kimono soaked up the liquid, ruining the cloth and turning it into an ugly dark purple shade. 

With his clean hand, he grabbed onto your hair and pulled you forward, tilting your head back forcefully.

“Open your mouth.”

He made no move to reveal his lower half, so with that confusion in your mind, you did as he commanded and opened your mouth. Before you could stop him, his bloodied hand moved from his side, and his two middle fingers pressed down on your tongue. The guard’s blood coated your tongue as you fought against his hold, definitely ripping out pieces of your hair in the process, but he didn’t let you. You shrieked as his fingers moved deeper into his mouth, but he kept you in place with such terrifying ease.

“Clean me up nicely, or you’ll polish the floor with your tongue after this.”

“No-!”

He chuckled, “You will. Now, suck.”

Just as your teeth grazed his fingers, he spoke calmly, “Bite me, and I’ll pull your teeth out, one by one. Understand?” He pulled harshly on your hair, shoving his fingers to the back of your throat. You nodded and he eased his hold on your hair while slowly pushing in and then removing his fingers from your mouth, repeating the process as he wiped the guard’s blood off on your tongue, using your mouth like a damn napkin.

The urge to gag was so strong, and your stomach began swirling like before, but there was nothing inside to throw up. The taste was salty and bitter, disgustingly metallic, and had you wishing for the guards’ punishments instead. You sucked them clean as he pulled them from your lips, only to repeat the process with his pinky and then his pointer finger. 

When the taste became too much, your eyes squeezed shut as you grimaced, hoping that he’d let you stay that way so the whole thing might pass just a bit faster. 

But, of course, that wasn’t the case.

“I’ve given you permission to look at me, and you’re closing your eyes?” he taunted, giving your face a gentle slap, forcing your eyes open. “There we go. You do have beautiful eyes,” he complimented authentically, which seemed insincere given your current position. “It’s a shame, really.” His pointer finger slid from between your lips.

You leaned forward to spit the blood out of your mouth, something that seemed to amuse him. “You’re not finished. My palm, my knuckles, and my wrist are still bloody. You’ll clean those, too, won’t you, wife?”

“I hate you.”

Your words didn’t seem to faze him as he spread open his palm. “That sharp tongue of yours is of better use elsewhere right now. Clean me up. You can be hateful later.”

Tears streamed down your face as you licked his palm clean, moving next to his knuckles, then to his wrist, ending finally with his thumb. He watched, seemingly in a trance, as he slowly pulled his thumb from your mouth, taking a moment to smear the bloodied spit around on your lips. Your mouth twitched into a sneer as you pulled away from him. 

He bent down and ripped a strip of clothing off the dead guard’s clothing, using it to wipe the remaining spit from his hand. 

“Stand and look at me.”

Shakily, you stood to your feet, careful not to slip in the congealing blood on the floor. Your eyes strayed from the ground, up his terrifyingly towering body, landing on his emotionless face. 

“Had I known giving you your punishments would be this entertaining, we could have been doing this from the start,” he mused, wiping the bit of blood from the corner of your mouth.

“You didn’t even hit me.”

Not a hand on you, and you still want to go back to the guards…

“I don’t have to hit you to get my point across. I think fucking with your sanity will do just fine. Which reminds me,” he trailed off, raising the bloodied piece of cloth he’d used to wipe his hands, bringing it to my face. You didn’t move as he leaned forward and tied it around your eyes. “There we go. From now on, in my presence, wear this.”

You scoffed, “This blessing could never count as a punishment, Sukuna. I don’t want to see you ever again.”

He was silent for a moment, but you still felt his lingering presence before he leaned down, face so close to yours that you could feel his breath on your lips. 

“It’s not for you.”

You gulped, “I–what-?”

“If I ever catch you without the blindfold, I’ll cut your eyes from your skull,” he whispered, gently pressing his lips against yours in a kiss that was too sweet to come from a man like him. Especially when he uttered the next words. “The next time you run from me, run fast and run far. Pray that I never, ever find you. If you get away from me, I swear to you, I will not stop looking for you until you’re beside me again. Mortals and deities fear me for a reason, and I don’t mind showing you why they all share that sentiment. Understand, wife?”

“I-I–yes, my ki-”

“Ah,” he cut you off, waiting for your correction.

“Yes, husband.”

“Mhm. See, you’re learning. Keep impressing me, wife. One day, maybe I’ll reward you for it.”

|| MIS M.List || > DELICACIES >

confused by what you just read? Malevolence In Spring's Guide

a/n: ok, i wanna be straight up from the start. i've already written this story line, but for Hades and Persephone. if you see it posted somewhere else, it's mine. but when i started it, it actually started out as a Sukuna fic, but i changed it to Hades and Persephone because i was nervous to post fanfiction lol. now that i feel more comfortable, i wanted to share the og. the only issue i'm running into is while it started as a Heian era Sukuna fic, it transformed into an Ancient Greece fic for Hades and Persephone, so i'm debating if i should keep the Ancient Greece theme and just like... put Sukuna in that, or if i need to make changes to match the Heian era.

i'd say i'm fairly knowledgeable about Ancient Greece and the Hellenic period, but the Heian era, not so much. idk, you all can let me know your opinion on that.

oh! also, the reason i'm just like... regurgitating my own work is because i've been struggling with writer's block with the Hades and Persephone version, and i'm hoping this might help, to go back and see what i've written in the beginning. idk idk idk.