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yandere-daydreams · 10 months

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Title: Sacrifical Bride.

Commissioned by the very lovely @yanmaresu.

Pairing: Yandere!Hades x Reader (Record of Ragnarök).

Word Count: 3.0k.

TW: Fem!Reader, Non/Con, Forced Marriage, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Emotional Manipulation, Rough Sex, Unprotected Sex, and Mentions of Kidnapping/Prolonged Captivity. Not Canon Complacent. I Have Never Met Canon But I Hear She's Very Nice.

The wedding was a solemn affair.

Not dull, because nothing that had your heart beating so violently could ever be considered ‘dull’, and not dreary, because despite the many, many things you could say about your kidnapper-turned-husband, he wasn’t one for bland affairs. No, your dress was of the finest and most vibrant silks, your veil lined with pearls and rubies and the gown’s train long enough to swell and ebb behind you as you walked down the seemingly never-ending aisle, unaccompanied by any escort. Wreaths of shining ivory lilies and blooming chrysanthemums encircled marble pillars, low-burning lanterns casting the chapel in long, wavering shadows. The pews were empty. The only guests were his ghastly servants, and they’d never once said a word to you.

There was no officiant. Hades waited for you at the brimstone altar alone, a gentle simper playing over his lips as he watched you drag your feet and fight the urge to bolt, to run, to do the very thing that’d left you trapped in his arm in the first place. It was tempting, albeit pointless. You’d always been swift footed, but there was nowhere to escape to in Helheim. At best, you’d spend a few days hiding and struggling to survive in the empty plains that surrounded his looming fortress of a home. At worst, you’d find yourself without direction and beyond the reach of his control, hopelessly lost and stumbling through fields of fading dead and gnarled beasts and things that would make the man in front of you look hospitable, in comparison. You tried to remind yourself of that as your body begged you to flee.

As you reached the altar, his smile grew into something that could’ve been convincingly genuine, had it been able to reach the pits of lifeless ice that were his eyes. Rather, the gesture only seemed to add to the coil of dread growing tighter in the pit of your stomach as you stepped beside him, clutching your bouquet to your chest in a white-knuckled grip. He’d let you pick that out yourself, at least, and you’d taken a truly irrational amount of joy in picking wildflowers and trimming roses and breaking every rule of decorum your mother had ever taught you. Now, though, the shadows of his hall seemed to dull your vision-searing colors, and it was difficult to take joy in such a simple pleasure knowing the man in front of you sought to ensure you’d never braid daisies or sleep beneath open skies again, when he was staring you down like yet another precious gem he planned to add to his ever-growing collection. It was a cruel comparison, but not quite as hyperbolic as you would’ve liked.

There was a shallow sigh, a hand brought to the edge of your veil. He toyed with the fabric for a long moment before taking the hem in both hands and pulling it away from your face. If he recognized the terror stitched into your expression, he only deemed it worth a slight shake of his head. “Oh, beloved.” His hand fell to your cheek. “You’re as radiant as the day we met.”

The day he plucked you from your mortal life and dragged you into the depths of the earth, the day he’d forced the awful seeds of that terrible fruit down your throat and promised you would never see another living soul again. You swallowed back your nerves. “Please, don’t draw this out.”

You were lucky you’d fallen into the hands of such a mild-tempered captor. He let out an airy chuckle, turning back to the altar. It was decorated sparsely; an overflowing cornucopia posed in one corner, a standing thurible slowly releasing nauseatingly sweet incense into the stagnant air sitting in the other. Between them was only a bottle of dark wine and two twin chalices, crafted of only the finest bronze and polished until they shined in the low lighting. He filled both to the brim before looking towards you, a glint in his remaining eye as he took a chalice in either hand.

You’d been wrong when you assumed they were identical. Where one had a line of aimless, curling thorns following the rim and plunging down the length of the handle, the other was embellished with roses, abstract and nearly shapeless, forming neat columns across the body of the cup. He extended the latter to you, its contents threatening to spill as you took it in your trembling hands. You’d managed to talk him out of the more elaborate ceremonies he’d suggested, but it was difficult to remember that this was a preferable alternative now that could feel the chill of his wine seeping into your palms.

You brought it to your lips, held it there for a moment, then pulled back at the hint of a more familiar scent than that of his dizzying incense. “Pomegranates?”

“I thought it would be a nice touch.” For him, maybe. He’d always struggled to see things from your perspective. “Forgive my sentimentality.”

You wouldn’t, but you were smart enough to keep that to yourself. When he raised his chalice, you did the same, mirroring him when your own will failed you. “To us, darling.”

You nodded. “To us.”

He took a long sip from his chalice, seeming to savor the rich wine, while you drained yours in a single breath. Try as you might to enjoy it, you could only seem to taste ash.

A few vows were exchanged, a kiss pressed into the back of your hand when you flinched away from his attempt to communicate his affection more directly. Finally, he took your arm and guided you back to your shared chambers, lingering in the doorway while you collapsed onto his bed – your marital bed, now, you supposed. You buried your face in the silken sheets, letting out a soft groan. There would be a celebration later on, a feast with all of his many gloating brothers and prying sisters in attendance, but the worst of it was over. You were bound to him, for better or for worse. All you could do was weather the consequences.

You’d hoped he would be kind enough to leave you alone while you consoled yourself, while you took all that you knew and all that you didn’t and recontextualized it with yourself as the mortal bride to the God of Death, but a hand on your shoulder dispelled that fleeting fantasy. With no small amount of reluctance, you pushed yourself upward and turned your attention back to Hades. This time, without the pretense of custom, he didn’t settle for your hand. His mouth found its way to the dip of your shoulder, then the crook of your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin as he pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses into his chosen targets.

When he started to move towards the curve of your throat, you moved on instinct – your hands finding their way to his hair as you dragged him away from you before he could do anything you wouldn’t be able to forget as soon as he left the room. “Please,” you said, not for the first time that day. “I… I’d rather be alone, right now. If it’s all the same to you.”

His smile didn’t waver. “You know that, if it were up to me, I would bend to your every whim,” he spaced the words out generously, as if worried your feeble human mind might not be able to understand. “But we aren’t done.”

Your expression fell. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me. I wore the dress, and—and I took your vows, and—”

“My love,” he cut you off swiftly, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek. “Our union will have to be consummated, eventually.”

You felt your throat begin to swell shut.

“I know that, but—” You laid your hand over his, trying to call upon whatever pale imitation of sympathy might’ve existed in his heart. “—does it have to be consummated now?”

You watched as his gaze softened, as his head lulled to the side in that endeared-yet-condescending manner he seemed so fond of. Slowly, with a painstaking gentleness, he brought you closer to him, ghosting over the top of your head and lingering there, even as he started to speak. “I think,” he started, his voice muffled by proximity. “that it would be in your best interest not to keep me waiting any longer.”

It wasn’t a threat, but it was posed like one, dredged up from somewhere deep in his chest and accompanied by his hand on your waist, nimble fingers slipping underneath the sash binding your gown together. When you jerked back, reflexively trying to escape his advances, he was quick to chase you, to let his softened smile spread into an amused grin as an arm wrapped around your midriff and dragged you, willingly or otherwise, into his lap. “I don’t want to hurt you.” And yet, your safety didn’t seem to cross his mind as his blunt nails bit into your waist, as he dragged you close enough to feel his chest press into yours, to become uncomfortably aware of the stiff outline against the loose fabric of his pants. “If I rely on my own self-restraint for another day—” Another kiss, this one to the tender patch of skin above your jugular vein. “I’m afraid I might end up doing something we both regret, when the time comes.”

“Less than a day,” you pleaded as he buried his face in your neck. There was a blur of movement, the ghost of his touch along the curve of your spine, and your bodice fell away in tatters, the ruined fabric collapsing to your waist. When you moved to cover yourself, Hades clicked his tongue and you froze, letting your arms fall back to your sides. Begging him to change his mind was one thing. Going against him so transparently would only make things more difficult. “Half a day. An hour. I just— Hades, I can’t do this right now—”

“My love.” Swift, blunt, merciless. You’d been a fool to ever think he was one of the kinder gods. “I think I’ve waited long enough to claim what belongs to me.”

Any protest you might’ve had died in your throat.

You’d been a fool to ever think he was anything less than the cruelest of his kin.

You wanted to scream. If you couldn’t run, then you would yell, raise your voice and tell him that he already had you, that he’d gotten everything he could’ve possibly wanted, but anything you might’ve said was torn away and ripped to shreds as his head dipped low, his teeth latching onto the vulnerable skin of you collar bone and sinking in. He didn’t draw blood, but he didn’t have to. A bolt of pure, stinging agony shot from your chest to your core, only dulling as he pulled away with a low groan. “Have I ever told you how much I adore the sound of my name on your tongue?” You felt his hand on your hip, then your thigh, the remains of your dress cut through and disposed of with little fanfare. He gave your bridal lingerie (pure white and so obnoxiously lacy, you’d had to wonder if this was all some sadistic joke as you slipped it on) more attention, his thumb running along the delicate trim before his fingers slipped underneath it, tracing the length of your slit before doing away with the barrier altogether.

Dread and panic dulled your reactions, but it would’ve been a lie to say the feeling of his mouth on your skin had left you completely unaffected. He chuckled as he gathered your slick on his fingertips, two of which were soon pressed into your clit with a brutal sort of precision. “And you tried to play coy.” He teased the sensitive bundle of nerves mercilessly, the patterns he traced into your clit too slow and too fleeting all at once. You wished he wouldn’t touch you at all, but if he was going to, it was the least he could’ve done not to draw it out. “That must’ve been why you seemed so rushed during our ceremony. If you’d asked me to make love to you on that altar, I happily would have.”

Hot, humiliated tears welled up in the corners of your eyes. You attempted to deny it, but a cracked moan slipped past your lips instead as two of his fingers were forced into your cunt and spread, splitting you apart. Your hands shot to his shoulders, trying to stabilize yourself, but he only saw your desperation as an invitation – bowing his head and pumping his fingers into you at the kind of languid pace that left you fighting not to rock against him, not to make up for the urgency immortal creatures so often lacked. “You’re a vice,” he muttered, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear, his tone low and lecherous. You wondered, briefly, if words that fell from the lips of a god could be considered sinful. “To think my own wife would’ve had me neglect her so severely for so long.”

You shook your head. You were married to him, sure, bound to him. But you couldn’t afford to think of yourself as his wife. You couldn’t afford to think of yourself as something so limited, something so purely an extension of him. “I’m not—”

“Don’t try to spare my feelings. I can see that I underestimated just how much attention my little mortal would need.” His wrist quirked, another digit pushing past your entrance and stuffing your pussy full as his fingers curled and ground inside of you. Against your will, you felt a tight heat begin to twist and writhe in the pit of your stomach, pangs of burning pleasure coursing from your cunt to your core. Now, you cried unabashedly, embarrassment and shame burning in your cheeks and fueling the unsteady stream of tears that Hades was so agonizingly quick to coo over, to kiss away as your hips bucked unsteadily against his hand. “What a sensitive wife I have.” That word – that awful word – was enough to earn a ragged sob, but if he recognized the connection, he didn’t deem it worth his concern. “I promise, you’ll never feel so unloved in my care again.”

You would’ve given anything to be able to pull away from him, to be able to shove at his chest and swear to all the gods you’d once worshiped that there was no part of you that could ever feel loved with him, but in the end, he was the one to let you go, to throw you onto the center of his great bed and leave you whining involuntarily at the sudden loss of stimulation. He’d never been one to deprive you, though; in a moment, he was in between your open legs, one hand wrapped loosely around your thigh while the other pulled feverishly at his own clothes. His coat fell away first, then his shirt. You heard fabric shift and metal clink and, in a daze, saw him wrap his fist around something he could not have possibly planned to fit inside of you. Half out of terror and half out of instinct, your gaze flickered from his cock to his face – to the wide, fanged grin he’d been wearing for as long as you could remember.

He moved to kiss you, and you drove your heel into his stomach.

The blow would’ve been weak by human standards, but it caught him off-guard. Out of reflex, he reeled back, and you took the opportunity to scramble off his bed and towards the door, to any part of this forsaken place where Hades wasn’t. You made it a step, maybe two before something caught your shoulder, before your body buckled under a weight greater than your own. You were dragged onto your knees before you could so much as think to slip away from him, your cheek forced against the cool marble of the floor before you could hope to make your descent more dignified. You felt his broad chest press into your back, his snarling lips against the curve of your throat. You wondered if the insult would be great enough to warrant taking your life, but the thought was dismissed quickly.

Hades had never been the kind of god capable of showing such mercy.

“I would’ve made love to you like a queen,” he spat, his tone all manic venom and overdue obsession. “But, if you’d rather be fucked on the ground like a whore, I’m more than happy to oblige.”

You weren’t allowed the luxury of bracing yourself, this time. In one brutal movement, he thrust into you, splitting you open on his cock with the kind of harsh, unforgiving force better suited to a wild animal. There was no time to adjust, no time to sob, only Hades groaning against your neck as he bucked against you, never daring to pull out completely. Whatever agony his fingers had sparked was now ten-fold. Your legs shook, your body threatening to collapse entirely, but Hades kept your ass raised and your thighs spread, his focus entirely on bucking into you as deeply and as roughly as he could.

It almost surprised you when one of his hands shot to your head, his fingers tangling themselves in your hair as he forced his mouth against yours. You tried not to cooperate, but two fingers pressed into your clit and your mouth fell open in a guttural cry, providing an opening he seemed content to take advantage of. It was a deep, lingering, messything – all tongue and teeth – but his cock ground against something soft and vulnerable and you failed to suppress the wave of pure heat that flooded through your battered body as you clenched around him, as you came undone around the cock of your kidnapper, your captor, your husband. Hades wasn’t far behind, his composure shattering no more than a second after the walls of your cunt clenched down around him. You could only choke on your misery-tinged pleasure as his hips pressed into your ass and he came inside of you – his awful warmth soon tainting every fiber of your being.

You tried to tell yourself that, at the very least, it was over - that he’d had his fill of you and now, you’d be free to console yourself elsewhere, but your hopes were once again dashed when Hades failed to release you, failed to pull out of you, failed to do anything but press himself into your back and trail his lips idly down to the nape of your neck. “Once is a pitiful amount for a king. Don’t you agree?”

You felt his hips move back, then rock against you just as quickly.

“You can forgive me when we’re done, love.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #yandere record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok imagines #record of ragnarok x reader #hades x reader #yandere hades #yaanderecore #yancore

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sparklingblu · 13 days

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Eroverse

Pt.5 - Eclipse

Chaewon x Male Reader (ft. Kazuha)

The nightmares won't stop.

Ever since your return from the underworld, you always find yourself back in the gloomy land of the death in your sleep. The unnerving faces of the skeletal warriors haunt your dreams and sometimes even the three headed beast. The drawbacks of being chosen by the Mark of Asmodeus are just as powerful as its upsides.

These horrible dreams are just one of your numerous problems and it's not even the worst one. There's the fact that you have become the underworld's most wanted and you don't want to think about what will happen if Hades found out you have banged his wife and stolen his helmet. In a way, she's the one who started it all but you doubt you can reason with an angry god. You might have just booked a guaranteed spot in the fields of punishment. Or even somewhere worse. Dying is the last thing on your mind right now and that's speaking from experience.

Having the mark seems like a blessing at first but you are starting to feel the consequences of bearing such power. Sure, it helps you screw angels and godesses but on the other hand, those are all the glamours to hide one single truth. You are just a servant of Eros. Maybe not like the cherubims but you have to carry out his so called quests and that blonde brat doesn't even explain the reasons behind all this. A god stealing another's god possesion doesn't really seem like a good prank. Or maybe Eros thinks it is.

After going through the quest and bearly coming back alive, you seriously start to reconsider the choice you have made. Eros have given you the life any mortal would wish for - one where you no longer need to worry about surviving everday and making ends meets. You don't even need to jerk yourself off anymore if you get horny. You can just call Lisa to do your bidding. Now, they don't really seem like a fair compensation for the job you have to do. You might sound like an ungrateful bastard but after dying, resurrecting and losing sleep for a week straight, anyone would start to get agitated. The feathery bed isn't much help and neither are Lisa's blowjobs. You even start to get tired of waking up to your dick shoved in the angel's throat and that's a lot coming from a pervert like you.

As you wake up in cold sweat from the usual torment of your dreams one afternoon, you decide you have suffered enough and set out to find a way; anyway to fix your problem. You would have asked Eros for help if he has not been missing for over a week since you return from the quest. (Fuck you, Eros) None of his angels have any idea where he is. Not even Kazuha. The only contact you have had so far is that message about 'taking the virginity of a goddess'. Frankly, you are not in the mood to use your lightsaber dick again. The helm of darkness you have stolen is nowhere to be found either. Your best guess is that Eros took it with him.

As if to mock your suffering, a storm have been raging outside forever. The building might shift from one place to another but the weather doesn't seem to be getting better anytime soon. The rhythm of raindrops splattering the glass along with the roar of thunder make an ugly backdrop as you make your way to the bathroom to freshen up.

Looking at the mirror, you find yourself looking like a ghoul - sunken eyes and ghostly pale. The insomnia have taken quite a toll and you wouldn't be surprised if your heart just stop beating at some point. Even the mark can't save you from that.

You let the cold tap water wash away the drowsiness though you know it will eventually return at some point. Still, it's better than nothing. You desperately need some kind of escape. Something to stop you from being a dead man walking. The jacuzzi might help except the fact that you are too tired to set everything up. The television is just as useless, playing rom-coms or lovesick songs in every channel. (Fuck you, Eros)

There's your phone too, which might have just become the most useless gadget after Eros have restored it. Apart from the lovey dovey wallpapers that change without your consent, the connection is awful here. A literal god owns this place and he can't even afford a decent wifi. Totally ironic. Maybe Eros can live off watching Titanic everyday but he can't seriously expect others to have the same horrible taste as him. (Fuck you, Eros)

With the lack of entertainment, you are left with the only choice to wander around the building. So far, you have discovered a corridor in the hall that leads to a sauna and another to an art gallery full of paintings by different renowned artists. There's even the Mona Lisa which looks too real for a replica. You wonder how Eros manages to get his hands on that one. However, all the doors that line the wall apart from your room's are locked tight and they are all diffetent designs and colours. There's even a vault door. The strangest thing, however, is the fact that even though the building easily looks more than ten storey tall, you can't find a way to go to the other floors. There are no stairs nor elevator. When you asked Kazuha about it, she simply shrugs.

Speaking of Kazuha, you have found a couple other angels apart from her and Lisa. Obviosuly they are all in the forms of idols from different gens. You even saw a few first gen ones. Most of them tend to stay away from you like some sort of infectious disease and you are ok with that. You have had your fair share of experience with their kind who wants you dead and you are not ready to relive the experience. So far, Kazuha is the only one you can communicate with and for Lisa, she uses her mouth in other tasks.

After freshening up, you put on one of those designer shirts and khakis in your wardrobe and exit the room. There's no need to lock the door because there isn't even a doorknob. It swing opens when you get near. Just another thing that doesn't make any sense around here. The marble statue of Eros in the hall with that smug grin on his face gets you even more riled up. You already have enough reason to hate the god and adding another to the list doesn't exactly help.

You turn the narrow corridor into the main room, where you have first landed on your arrival. The room is eerily quiet — the silence only penetrated by the ocassional crackling of thunder. All the lights have been turned off —the flashes of lightning momentarily illuminating the room, derived of its usual cheerful atomosphere now replaced by a dreaful one. The whole thing reminds you of the gloom of the underworld and the thought makes your stomach churns.

Near the glass wall, you spot a dark figure with its back turned, peering over the landscape of ancient Pompeii with the volcano that brought the city's demise looming in the distance. Turns out the building can teleport to lost civilizations too. Arcs of electricity flare through the dark sky and the brief glow reveals the figure as Kazuha.

In her white sport tops that display her figure perfectly and the raven hair flowing over her back, she really does look like an angel. In normal circumstances, you would have gotten hard seeing her tight ass in those jeans but currently, your hazy mind won't allow you the pleasure.

"You are awake" Kazuha says without turning her back, the sudden intrusion catching you off guard.

"I doubt you can call me that" you reply, pouring yourself a glass of water from the jar on the kitchen counter. Hopefully, it isn't sweet like the rest of Eros's snacks here.

"Still having nightmares?" Kazuhas asks, though her tone lacks the sympathy.

"They won't stop since my return from the underworld" you admit. "I just wanna die"

"Trust me, there are worst things waiting for you after death. You won't really be the most welcomed soul in the underworld"

"I guess so" You take a sip from the glass. Thankfully, the water tastes normal.

"What you have done have serious consequences" Kazuha turns around, arms folded. In the dim light, her expression is unreadable. "You have stolen the power symbol of a god. That's like putting pineapples in a pizza. You have insulted him"

Kazuha's serious tone makes you hold back the protest about your opinion on pineapple pizza. You don't want to get smitten. "Hey, it's not my fault.That was all Eros's idea"

"It might be his idea but you are still the one who did the deed. You will be pointed out as the culprit regardless if you intend it or not"

"Wonderful" you sneer. "I'm starting to hate this 'apostle' job even more. It should have been called 'errand boy' "

"Think positive. Not many people gets to fuck the queen of the underworld"

If Kazuha is trying to comfort you, it's not helping. "Sure because it turns out great. I shouldn't have taken this job in the first place. Congrats! You have the mark of Asmodeus! Now you can go around banging gods and stealing things for me!"

Kazuha doesn't flinch at your sarcastic remark. If it's possible, the darkness of the room looks thicker around her. "It's too late to back out now. And it's still your first real quest. Eros still have many plans for you"

You snicker. "Let me guess. More quests that involves burgling? Won't be surprised if I have to steal the holy grail next. Anyway, where's Eros?"

"No idea" Kazuha replies, furrowing her brows. "He said he's out to plan the next part of your quest but I haven't got any contact from him"

"Would be great if he never comes back"

"Watch your words" Kazuha scowls and thunder roars, lighting up the sky. "The gods are angry. They are searching for you in every corner of the earth. You would be dead already if you are in any other place"

"Should I be honoured?" Yet another saracstic remark. At this point, you don't even care anymore.

"Are you kidding me? We are in serious trouble right now. Gosh, that idiot Eros. If he gets caught somehow......" Kazuha drifts off and the fear in her voice gives birth to a strange sense of distress within you. If an angle is panicking, you are in even more trouble then you initially thought and even that's a shit ton of trouble already.

"Hold on. Are you actually worried about Eros right now? That dick?" It's no way to address your boss but it's not like he's around. On one hand, perhaps he is. Afterall, he's a god. He might have super hearing or something. You push the thought aside. No use cramming your brain with one more dreadful thought.

"You don't get it" Kazuha exhales, her stoic face softening just a notch lower. "Sure, he's not exactly the boss of the year but it's not like I have a choice. Being an angel is not all rainbows and sunshines like you mortals think. Especially not when you have to serve a god who's always finding new ways to brew up trouble. If the gods find out Eros is behind all this.... ." Kazuha pauses, conisdering her choice of words. "Let's just say it will have dire consequences on me too"

"What do you want me to do then?" You ask, being rational for once.

"Obviously try not to get you killed. Without you Eros's big plan will go up in smoke-" Kazuha quickly stops, realizing she has slipped her tongue but it's too late.

"What plan?" You ask. You are already sick and tired of this mysterious game Eros's playing. If you are gonna be a part of it, at least you need to know your role in it clearly.

"Look, it doesn't matter. What's important is that you stay alive and complete your quests with the help of your mark. Everything will be revealed at the right time"

"So what? Am I just some kind of-" Your complaint is cut short as the whole building shakes as if an earthquake has come out of nowhere. You would have fallen face first if you haven't hold onto the kitchen counter. Kazuha isn't so lucky. The angel is thrown off balance and land with her back onto the hard marble floor. Seeing the wince on her face, it seems like angels are no different from humans when it comes to tolerating pain.

"Fuck" Kazuha curses as she gets up, rubbing her back. "They are here"

Without a doubt, you know 'They' could be nothing but trouble. Anything that brought an earthquake along with their entrance couldn't be anything pleasant. But you ask the question anyway. "They?"

Kazuha must have been thinking the same thing because her expression shifts between uncertainty and panic, finally settling on fear. "The Hunters. They-" The building shakes again and this time, the power cuts off. Every single source of light dies out, leaving you surrounded by darkness in every corner. Strangely, the experience reminds you off the darkness that comes before you pass out when you use the 'Ero' app. You can't decide whether it is a good thing you are not losing your consciousness this time.

"Stay still" You hear Kazuha's voice from somewhere in front of you. It's hard to say where exactly because even the flashes of lightning can't seem to penetrate the murk. Sensing Kazuha's the best chance in whatever is happening, you obey without questioning.

"Don't go anywhere. I'll be back" This time the voice comes from behind, sounding more and more distant as Kazuha leaves the room. You are left alone in the dark room with nothing to do but stare at the skyline of Pompei beyond the glass wall. Your terror is nothing compared to what those citizen might have felt when they saw lava raining down on their city. Still, you are barely containing the urge to run after Kazuha.

A minute passes, then two, then a couple more. The silence is deafening, only interrupted by the splatter of raindrops and the ocassional claps of thunder. As you start wondering what's taking Kazuha so long, the building trembles once again and you, deep in thought, isn't able to react fast enough this time and go sprawling across the floor. Luckily, you land on your knees and the fall isn't too painful though it leaves your legs feeling like jelly.

Somewhere far away, you hear something explode followed by the clashing sound of metal against metal. As you lift yourself off the floor, battle cries flood into the room as if a battle is taking place right at this moment. The corridor is light up by a momentary burst of white light and what you see in that split second confirm your thoughts.

Kazuha has her gladius pressed against the blade of a female dressed in black, the flickers of light dancing around them whenever their weapons clash. It's hard to say who's winning because all your eyes can catch are bits and pieces of the duel. But it doesn't seem to be the only one because farther behind, you can catch glimpes of numerous colourful gleams that vanish as quick as they disappear. If you are doubting before, you know now. The place is under attack.

And what do the chosen one with the mark of Asmodeus do? Stand and watch, of course. It's not like you can just activate the mark anytime. And even if it does activate, you doubt you can fuck your way out of this. At this instant, you really wish the mark provides you with some sort of power apart from being a universal impregnator.

The gleams from the clashes scattered around the building becomes more frequent. From time to time, you would see white humanoid shapes of light combusts with a sound like a thousand firrworks exploding at once. Light means angels and if they are blowing up, it's deifinitely not good news.

Kazuha's still locked in clash with the warrior dressed in black. Their duel is moving dangerously close to where you are standing and you back off until you are pressed against the glass wall. Kazuha's opponent doesn't give her any time to think, bringing down strikes after strikes which Kazuha's barely managing to block with her own weapon. With the glow that Kazuha's gladius continuously cast, you finally manage to make out the features of the warrior. She looks no older than 25 with bob hair that sways with each of her fluid movements. After seeing the cheetah like facial features with another glow, you have no doubt. It's Chaewon, the leader of Le Sserafim, trying to kill her own member. You know both of them are obviously not the real idols but still, it's pretty fucked up.

You have no time to make the whole thing make sense because Kazuha's getting closer and closer to the glass wall with every second. Chaewon doesn't waver, each strike of her sword precise and deadly. On the other hand, Kazuha's momvements are growing sluggish. Any moment now, she's gonna be impaled by Chaewon's sword.

Sensing the impending doom, you do the stupidest thing possible. "Hey" you call and Chaewon, oblivious of your presence in the dark, turns her head just for a split second. Kazuha seizes the opportunity, kneeling Chaewon in the stomach, the force throwing her off-balance and down to the floor. Kazuha raises her gladius for the finishing strike until-

"Enough!" A woman's voice booms and the whole building flood with light. Not from the overhead lighting though. It is as if the place has been enveloped in a silvery cocoon of light; warm and pale.

Before you can process what's happening, a sharp cold edge press onto your throat. Chaewon gives you a wistful smile, moving her blade father up your chin. Your eyes dart to her feet, where Kazuha lays sprawled out. As she begins to get up, Chaewon points the gladius in her other hand at Kazuha. In this millisecond, she has managed to tackle Kazuha and seizes her weapon. How she did it, you have no idea. "Follow me" she orders. "Both of you"

Left with no choice, you oblige, walking along the narrow corridor into the circular hall with Kazuha as Chaewon follows closely behind. You wonder why Kazuha can't just snap her fingers and teleport both of you out of here. Afterall, she's a fucking angel. But seeing her worn out face and her slumped shoulder, you doubt she can even summons a spark.

The whole hall smells like someone have forgortten to turn off the stove. Multiple bodies of unconscious idols aka angels, scatter the floor. Inky scorch marks imrpinted on the floor where they lay. You cough, trying to eject the smoky smell that enters your lungs. The statue of Eros in the center has been sliced in half so it now looks more like a mixture of amputated legs and a wing. This might just be the only benefit this whole destruction brings. To you, at least.

The strangest sight, however, are the warriors. There's at least 10 of them, postioned around the disfigured statue of Eros, swords strapped to their backs. All of them wear the same outfit as Chaewon; black crop tops and jeans. Then you realize it's not just their clothes that match. Everything about them does. In other words, all of them are Chaewon. Each one a perfect replica of the other.

There's one that stands out though. She's also Chaewon but in a different outfit; an emerald green mesh top and a leather skirt. A chain necklace dangles over the opening at the upper part of her top. She doesn't have any weapon but that doesn't make her any less intimidating. You can feel the pure energy radiating off her, making your skin tingle. Instantly, you realizes she's the one who has stopped the battle with the slivery glow. Beside her kneels none other than your boss, Eros, his toga ragged and dirty. His once beautiful face is now full of cuts and his blonde hair a tangled mess. A golden chain bind his hands to his back. Nevertheless, the god gives you a smug grin as soon as he spots you like this is a very normal occurence.

"My Lady" The Chaewon holding you hostage walks forward and kneel before the different Chaewon. "I have brought him"

The green top Chaewon moves forward, her eyes fixed on your exhausted form. "So, you are the infamous one" she muses. Much to your surprise her voice comes out deep and cold, different from the warrior Chaewon. "You give us quite a lot of troubles upstairs, you know. Not gonna lie, I was kinda impressed. Coming back from the death is one thing but raping a goddess and stealing a possession of a god? That's pretty badass"

You don't know if she's praising you or being saracsstic. It's hard to tell with that stoic expression on her face.

"Hey, don't give him all the credits! I did most of the work" Eros calls from behind. This guy is still cracking jokes in a life or death situation. You wish you have that kind of courage.

Chaewon gives him a glance and the corner of her lips nearly curves into a smile but she quickly sheathes it. "Sure, you do. If you haven't sneaked up to my dimension with that little helmet of yours, it would have taken me longer to find Michael here. Thank you"

"You are welcome" Eros replies, his face showing no sign of fear or anger. "Maybe you can get me out of these chains, if you are actually thankful"

Chaewon ignores him and continues. "It would be such a shame to get rid of someone so powerful. But the mark brings nothing but trouble. This time is no different from the last"

"What do you mean?" You ask, confused.

"You are not the first one to possess the mark. The one before you..." she trails off. "Nevermind. It's not like you need to know. You are going to die anyway"

Your tongue loses the ability to speak. Normally, you would have begged or try to strike a deal. But this time it's different. Chaewon isn't like all those otherworldly beings you have met before. She shows no signs of hostility yet you know she will stay true to her words. A moment of silence passes before you gather your thoughts again and ask.

"Who are you?" The first question that comes to your mind. You are not even sure if you have the permission to ask someone as powerful as her. Nevertheless, curiousity killed the cat.

"Artemis" Kazuha interrupts before Chaewon can answer your question. "Goddess of the hunt"

"And the moon" Chaewon adds. "Very good, dear. You did your homework"

Not the first goddess you have met but you feel like this is the first one who lives up to her status. The last one you have met is pretty powerless apart from being able to summon some plants. Artemis is a stark contrast compared to Persephone.

"And them?" You ask, gesturing at all the other Chaewons in the hall.

"They are my hunters" Kazuha explained . "My soldiers and my sisters"

If she means sisters literally, you absolutely believe it because they look no different from each other.

"You speak too highly of your group of virgins" Eros voice appears once again. Chaewon shoots him a sharp glare and you realize Eros have struck a nerve there.

"Don't you dare speak ill of our pure maidenhood" The fury in Chaewon's voice makes you take a step back. If she starts doing whatever a goddess do when she gets mad, you don't want to be in the line of fire.

"Oh, come on. Where's the fun in living for milleniums and not getting laid even once? I get you hate men and all but you don't need to go this far" Eros pushes on and Chaewon's brows creases into an icy stare.

"We are hundred percent better than you filthy men" Chaewon snaps. "All of you are no different from pests compared to us. Fragile and weak. You, a minor god, have no right to question my choice"

What Chaewon's saying is starting to sound more and more like a feminism lecture. And if she's a goddess, that means she might be the oldest feminist in existence. An alpha feminist? The idea wrecks your brain cells.

"Oh, really? Hmmm...let's see. The first person to walk on the moon is a man. So is the one who invented electricity. Not to mention every single president of the United States are men. What else?"

For the first time, Eros words doesn't have any of his usual mischief. Hearing how he retaliates Chaewon (or Artemis, whatever) insults factually, you feel a tinge of admiration for the guy. Maybe even a bit of respect.

Chaewon's face turns a deadly hue of red, clearly not expecting a sensible retort from Eros. "I should have finished you long ago. You talk too much for your own good" Chaewon extends her arm and out of thin air, a faint silvery glow starts to manifest, soon taking the form of a recurve bow; curved out of what you guess is a mixture of bronze and gold. She holds the grip tight and pulls the string, summoning a glowing arrow of light along the path.

Chaewon has resort to violence, not being able to make a comeback from Eros's argument. She aims the luminous tip of the arrow right at Ero's chest, ready to strike down at any moment. Anyone would be terrified out of their wits if they were at arrowpoint but apparently, it's not the case for Eros, who's still smiling like a madman.

"Aren't gods like...immortal or something?" You whisper to Kazuha.

"They are" Kazuha replies. "That is....until someone take them down with the sufficient force"

"Must suck"

You are beginning to see the true nature of those otherworldly beings more clearly. Angels and gods; the figures of power are just as fragile as any mortal.

"Seriously, Artemis? You bring a weapon to a debate? Come on" Eros whines and Chaewon pulls the bowstring so taut it threatens to snap in half.

"Spare me your nonesense, Eros. Your job here is done. You are no longer needed" With those final words, Chaewon prepares to strike Eros down until-

"Woah woah woah. Hold on" Eros falters, his tone no longer mocking though it still has a mischevious edge. "How about we make a bet?"

Chaewon scoffs. "You can stall all you want Eros. I have all the time in the world"

"Look, we both have our opinions and views. Let's see who can prove their point"

If Eros is blabbering more gibberish to delay the inevitable, it works because Chaewon lowers ber bow. "Go on"

"Let Michael participate in your tribunal games" Eros says. "And if he can defeat your hunters, you have to let us go"

Chaewon is speechless for a moment then breaks into laughter. Even some of her hunters join in. "Eros, I know you are an idiot but this is beyond madness"

Eros ignores the insult. "Michael is a male so if he can defeat your hunters, that will prove my point. If he's defeated, then I will admit you are right"

You feel like a toddler in the middle of adult talk. As usual, you have absolutely no idea what they are talking about. They might as well be speaking in a foreign tongue.

"Hold up. I have no idea-"

"Think again Eros" Your interruption is reinterrupted by Chaewon. "I can give Michael a painless death here. If he's in the games, well, not so much"

"Scared?"Eros questions, tilting his head.

An expression somewhere between annoyance and amusement flashes across Chaewon's face. "Your little friend Michael is the one who should be scared. You are sending him to a place of no return"

With each word of the conversation, your panic level rises. Whatever place they are talking about, you are certain it's not an amusement park.

"Why don't we just get to the point? Yes or No?"

"Alright, if you are that eager let's do it" Chaewon instantly shoots back.

"I hope you keep your words, Artemis"

"Speak for yourself"

"Oh, I'm a man of my words" Eros says it like something so obvious.

Chaewon raises her arm. "Alright, I will-"

"Wait!" Eros calls. "There's one condition"

"What is it again?" Chaewon glares, the frustration evident in her tone.

"Michael will be up against ten of your hunters and you, a goddess. Don't you think it's a bit unfair?"

"It has always been the way" Chaewon answers. "And it will always be"

"But Michael isn't like the rest of your tributes right? He's not a rapist nor a cheater" Eros complains.

"Yeah, like he didn't rape a fucking goddess"

You hear Chaewon swears for the first time and for a moment, you almost want to chuckle. The sound of a curse on the ever well mannered goddess's tongue comes out so odd.

"Yeah but it's not completely his fault" Eros inists. "And don't you have beef with Persephone or something?"

Chaewon thinks for a moment. "It's not like I like that snobby underground goddess anyway. Fine, Michael can choose a partner. If there's a partner for him to choose that is, and obviously not you, Eros"

You are surprised at how quickly Chaewon changes her mind. It's like Eros knows just the right keys to turn to bend people's well. Maybe it's a part of being a love god.

"Fine by me" Eros replies. "Since you murdered all my angels except one, Kazuha, you accompany Michael in the games"

Is that fear you see in Kazuha's eyes? You can't be sure but there's no denying what's up ahead can't be anything pleasant.

"What's happening?" You ask Kazuha but she just purses her lips as if muffling a scream. Not a good sign at all.

"Don't worry, Michael. Kazuha will explain it to you once you are in the games. For now, goodbye. Don't die"

With that last message, Eros turns his eyes down to the floor.

"Alright" Chaewon turns towards you. "Let's begin"

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

After a week, you finally get to be in some place other than the shifting alive penthhouse of Eros.

With a snap of her finger, Chaewon blurs the surroundings and when your eyes come back into focus, you find yourself in a different place.

The first thing, you notice is the silence. So silent that it's deafening. It doesn't sit quite right with the forest that looms all around you. Dark wouldn't be the right word to describe the place despite the fact that not a spot of sunlight penetrates the violet leaves of pine-like trees that rises to the sky. The entangled branches reminds you of old withered hands. It doesn't make the place any less creepy.

A dim glow like the one back in Eros's place envelopes the whole place, casting faint shadows here and there. The air is cool but not pleasantly so. It's the kind of cool that gives you the chills before something disastrous happens. The air smells like a mixture of freshly baked cookies and toast. Compensation for the whole haunted atmosphere of this place, perhaps. You look down and find yourself knees deep in the tall grass that covers every single inch of ground. Thankfully, you didn't choose to wear shorts.

"Over here" Kazuha voice snaps you out of your thoughts. She stands, propped by a tree nearby. Her eyes dart around as if a predator will emerge at any moment and that can possibly be the case. You make your way towards her, which is not really easy with all the grass brushing against your legs.

"Alright. I'm sure this isn't where Artemis send people for vacation. Can I get some explanation now?" You demands. If you are going to be a part of whatever game Eros made you play, you are gonna need answers.

Kazuha looks around like she's checking for anyone eavesdropping. "We don't have much time so listen carefully" she begins. "As you already know, Artemis is a maiden goddess which means she vows never to give up her virginity"

You remember Eros's message about taking the virginity of a goddess. Did he mean Artemis?

"So are her hunters. They vow their absolute loyalty to Artemis and to preserve their maidenhood. In return, they gain eternal youth and immortality"

"Does being turned into Chaewon comes with the package?"

"I don't know. Ask them next time" Kazuha shrugs off your question. "In the old days, when a man commits a crime against a woman; say a rapist or a cheater, Artemis makes them play her tribunal games"

"Is that like the ancient vesion of hunger games?"

You can swear Kazuha almost smiles. "In a way, yes. She takes them into her 'verse' and-"

"Hold on. Verse?" You ask.

"Dimensions created by the gods. Remember the places you get taken by the 'Ero' app? They are the verses of Eros. Or Eroverses, like he calls them. This place, is a verse of Artemis"

"Ok, get it"

Seriously, Eros should take notes from Artemis how to actually create a verse that's not a tiny room or a boxing ring with a deadly angel.

"So, here's how the tribunal games work" Kazuha continues. "Artemis takes her chosen prey into her verse and her and her hunters hunt down the unlucky guy"

"Great, how do we beat it?"

"That's the problem. We don't. The game ends when the guy dies"

"Wonderful" you remark in saracsm. "So we just wait till they kill me?"

"Don't be rudiculous. We need to keep moving. At least until we find out what to do. Afterall, you are the chosen one"

Right. Chosen one, you think. The chosen one with a magic dick that's pretty useless most of the time.

"Aren't you an angel? Can't you just get us out like you did when Yeji tries to kill me?"

"I can't" Kazuha answers. "This verse has its own rules set by Artemis. Apparently, they don't favour angels. And even if I can get you out of here, I won't. Because then Artemis will kill us all"

"Well...let's take a walk" You stride ahead into the forest, trying to enjoy nature for perhaps, the last time ever.

"Wait up" Kazuha calls, running after you. You stop to turn around.

"This whole place is full of traps. One wrong step and you are doomed. After me" Kazuha walks past, each of her steps slow and calculated. You follow her pattern as you wander deeper into this deadly playground of Artemis.

After a few minutes, you notice the place isn't completely silent like you thought before. The faintest rustle of grass would emerge evert few seconds. Earlier, you haven't noticed it but now with the air eerie with the threat of making one wrong move, it's as clear as ever.

"What's that sound?" you whisper to Kazuha.

"Shhh" She brings her index to her lips, gesturing you to shut up. "Just keep moving"

A few more minutes go on. There still isn't a change in scenery. The place stays cold and haunted with the gloom the pines cast. The silvery light a reminder of Artemis's absolute power.

Despite the cool of the place, you start sweating. Maybe it's the fear. The fear of not knowing what to fear. You still haven't run into anything dangerous or lethal till now and you feel like your luck is going to run out anytime.

After a few more minutes, your whole body is drenched with sweat. Your feet feels like they are on fire. "Can we stop for a while? It's getting.....tedious" you pant. Kazuha gives you a look that means seriously?

"Fine, we can rest. But just a few minutes" Kazuha plops down at the base of a tree, her eyes still scanning the surroundings. Even now, she's still as alert as ever.

You follow suit, taking your place beside her. You blow out a puff of hot air. "Why aren't they grouping up on us yet?" you ask.

"The hunters? Oh, Artemis likes to take her time. Waits for her victims to feel safe enough. She strikes when they least expect it. That's why I'm keeping my eyes and ears open" Kazuha answers and you can't help but notice the fatigue in her voice. She's tired too. She just hides it better.

"So does Artemis hate men in general or is there a specific reason?"

"No idea" Kazuha's eyes land on you. You know it's not the time but you can't help but admire her gorgeous facial features. And her exposed tummy.... "All I know is she rejoices in proving herself better than your kind in quite.....brutal ways"

"Forget I ask" Then you suddenly remember what Artemis have said. "Artemis said I'm not the first one to possess the mark. Is it true?"

A solemn expression loom over Kazuha's face. Her fingers toy with the grass covering the ground. "It's better if you don't know. Trust me"

Just then a cold breeze brush your face. The feeling is pleasant, almost soothing enough to make you forget about the danger you are in. Not a second apart, a sound similar to a boiling kettle emerges.

"Duck!" Kazuha yells.

A silvery arrow cuts through the air with alarming speed and if you were just a nano second late, it wouldn't be the tree's trunk the lethal tip impales in.

"Kazuha, you are an angel" you praises.

"Run!" Before you know it, Kazuha is sprinting ahead and you have to use every ounce of strength left to match her speed. It doesn't help that more arrows are heading your way and it's getting harder and harder to avoid them.

Your speed wavers and another flock of arrows rain down on top of you. You embraces yourself for the pain but with a shimmer, all of them go up in flames. No doubt the work of Kazuha.

"Kazuha, you are an..."

"Shut the fuck up" Kazuha catches an arrow in mid air and snaps it in half. "Keep moving!"

You don't stop running. Neither do the arrows which keeps chasing you down. One grazes your shoulder and you stumbles from the stinging pain. Nevertheless,Kazuha grabs you from the arms and keep you moving.

Your lungs are on fire. Your legs are on the verge of giving out. The will to survive is the only thing that keeps you going and even that's starting to fade. Surprisingly, you find yourself wishing for the mark of Asmodeus to emerge. Not for sexual purpose but rather for protection.

Suddenly, Kazuha halts and you run straight into her back, sending you sprawling on the grass.

"Why do you-"

Your question is cut short when you realize why Kazuha has stopped. Right in front of her, standing on a small hill is none other than the goddess Artemis herself.

"At last" she makes her way slowly towards you. "Eros's little pet is cornered"

You get back to your feet and when you turn around, you find out she's right. The hunters have formed a ring around you, their bows drawn.

"So much for Eros's talk about men being superior" Chaewon flicks her wrists and silvery light dance between her fingers. "Such weaklings"

You search Kazuha's face for any sort of reassurance. But there's no hope. She has already told you she's pretty much powerless here. Is this finally the end for the great one?

"Finish the angel first" Chaewon orders. "I will take care of our little Michael here"

The hunters act instantly. All of them draw their blades and charge towards Kazuha. Amidst the chaos, you can't help but wish for the mark to emerge. You are at the brink of death once again, why has it not shown itself?

Kazuha summons a blazing sword of light in an attempt to reflect the rapid strikes of the hunter but even she can't hold out against ten angry feminists. One slash cuts across her arm and another graze her abdomen. Golden blood pours out from the wounds.

Meanwhile, Chaewon is making her way towards you gracefully, taking her time. In her hand, she twirls a double edged sword. Her gaze icy cold, a hint of amusement within them.

"You know, I thought it would be harder" Chaewon muses. "With your mark and all"

Yeah, the mark. The blessing which betrays you in most desperate time.

"Where's your little mark, hmm? Or is it too scared to make its appearance?"

"You are not playing fair" you replies. Nearby, a hunter kneels Kazuha in the ribs and she stumbles.

"Who said anything about playing fair?" Chaewon steps slow as the distance between you narrows. "If you want to blame, blame Eros"

She stops and studies you like a predator capturing its prey last moment. Then with a flick of her fingers, she sends you flying upwards.

Your back meets the trunk of a tree with a loud thud and you land with your face on the cushion of grass. You feel like every single bones in your body have turned to powder. A shar pain creep up your legs and you groan in agony.

"What's wrong chosen one? We are just getting started"

You lift yourself up wearily at Chaewon's challenge. You can't feel your legs but you manage to stand up. A few feet away, Chaewon stands, her hands on her hips. She gives you an exaggerated smile.

"You are not already giving up, are you?"

"You little-"

You are not able to finish your words because once again, Chaewon lifts a finger and an invisible force drags you backward until you crush into another tree.

You stumble, kneels shaking and your face graze the grass. Your mind is a jumble of anger and fear. But it is soon overwhelmed by the pain that leaves your mind blank.

"Get up"

For some reason, Chaewon's voice seems distant. You use the last bit of your strength to lift your face off the ground and your eyes catch a blurry sight of Chaewon and the sword in her hand. Your eyes move further back and your heart twitches painfully.

Kazuha has been overwhelmed by the hunters. Golden blood is pouring out of even more wounds all across her body and her gladius has scattered off away. Her only futile attempts to keep alive are the blasts of light she often summons to drive away her enemies. But it is obvious that shes going to fall victim to their razor sharp blades very soon.

Maybe it's the power of friendship. Maybe you are just scared out of your wits. Neverthless, you feel the all familiar burning sensation that originates from your pelvis and spreads through your whole body. However, this time, lust isn't the only thing that accompany the mark's wake. There's another feeling that you can't quite put a finger on. All you know is that it's ancient and have been buried deep inside you for god knows how long. Now, it's finally making its presence known and you happily welcomes its emergence.

All the pain in your body have been washed away. Every broken bone and raptured vessels heal. You bring yourself back to your feet and crack your neck. Strangely, it gives you a sense of contentment.

"What's this madness...?" Chaewon mutters, her pupils wide like a deer in the headlights.

You look at yourself and mutter the same thing. The warm golden glow that envelopes you is there. A reminder of the invulnerability the mark offers. It's a sight you have grown accustomed to. However, there's an addition to the package this time. Every single vein in your body is glowing and humming with power. You can see the tiny rivers of gold that wound all over you. In this moment, nothing else matters except the fact that you have become one of the most powerful beings in existence. You feel invisible, untouchable. You feel like a.....god.

Chaewon spreads her palms, shooting out silvery tendrils towards your direction but they quickly diminish once they reach a few feets away from you. She tries to summon her bow and launch a volley of arrows but they follow the same fate as her earlier attempt to harm you.

"Don't waste your efforts. We both know it's not gonna work" You muse as you slowly close your distance to Chaewon.

The hunters attacking Chaewon has frozen with shock; all of them staring at the scene unfolding before them. How dangerous are they now if even their mistress is powerless against you?

"What are you staring at? Charge!" Chaewon's order break the hunters out of their trance and all of them charge at you at once, their blades drawn.

A voice inside you orders and you clasp your hands, sending out a radiant wave of red that wash over the hunters. For a moment, everything is still. Then, the hunters start acting in the craziest way possible.

Their faces flush a deep shade of red like those caught comitting a deed they are not supposed to. Their legs start trembling. "Fuck. No. What-" One of them mummur as she tries to stop her legs from quivering like crazy. Another cover her mouth with her hands to muffle a moan. Much to your surprise, a wet stain is growing at the crotch of all their jeans.

Not a moment later, all of the hunters have collaspe onto the ground, desperately pulling off their jeans. Some even rip the fabric apart. Thats when you see your handiwork. All of their pussies are wet and glistening; clenching around nothing as if asking for something to fill them up. Some of them start to dig a finger or two into their wet holes, pumping to compensate for the pleasure that only a cock can bring. The others are still trying to hold on to their dignity but it's clear as day that they are fighting a losing batttle. Without a single movement, a geyser of squirt erupts from a hunter and she lets out the most primordial scream. The less composed ones even start to make out with each other; their bodies pressed together and their fingers digging deep into each other aching cunts.

You feel like you are in the wet dream of a Chaewon stan. Not a single Chaewon but ten are giving you a free webshow. All of their dignity have been thrown out of the window. The only thing that matters now is to satisfy the need their pussies demand. In this moment, those hunters are no different from camgirls.

"You fool! What have you done?" No matter how much she tries to mask it, the panic in Chaewon's voice is crystal clear.

You shrug. "I don't know either but it seems like your hunters are horny"

Her face twitches in anger. "I will kill you" She unfolds her palms, sending out tendrils of blinding light in your direction. You close your eyes to avoid getting blinded and when you reopen them, nothing have changed except the fact that Chaewon stands, dazed.

"What- what the fuck?" Chaewon swears and you almost want to laugh but you gotta assert your dominance.

"Well, I thought you already know. The mark makes me invisible"

"It's not possible. The last time I-"

'The last time'. Once again, you can't help but wonder what she means by that.

"Last time?" You ask for the second time. This time, Chaewon doesn't brush off your question. Instead, she stutters.

"No...no...it can't be. That power. It's impossible.."

"Well, as you can see, it's not"

Wasting no time, you advance on Chaewon slowly, each step calculated and measured. There's no need to rush. It's clear who's the victor here.

It doesn't take long for Chaewon to realize her disadvantage. Wasting no time, she pulls out a dagger from her belt and lunge at you with inhuman speed. That's her mistake.

As soon as she reaches a few feet away, she's thrown off balance like an invisible barrier has stopped her. The mark doing its job very well.

"For someone who knows a lot about the mark, you are pretty stupid" You say as you hover over her limp form that lies on the ground.

"Stay away from me, you filthy animal!" The goddess threatens but both of you know it has no real bite to it.

You hear a loud moan and your eyes dart to where Artemis's hunters are having the craziest orgy. A couple is scissoring, their pussies rubbing against each other in a frantic and almost animalistic way. Their faces distorted like bitches in heat. One Chaewon is eating out the other who lays sprawled on the grass while another take a seat on her face. And one lays propped to the tree, her fingers deep in her pink hole and squirting a fountain with ever pump. It's a sight to behold.

Further back, Kazuha sits under a tree, panting. You feel a pang of worry after seeing all her bloody wounds but at least she will live. And you have another task to focus here.

Chaewon takes your distraction as an opportunity and throws a jab from down below but you quickly grab her waist and pin her hand to the ground.

"I must say, I do admire your persistence"

"Let go of me!"

Her voice is so desperate, so demanding you almost let out a chuckle.

"What is it you say again? Men are filthy? Well, now that filthy man is going to take away your precious virginity"

The reality of your intention dawns on Chaewon and her pupils contract with fear. No more is the triumph, cocky goddess. What lies beneath you is nothing but another immortal who has fallen victim to your power.

"You can't be serious"

"Oh, I am" You touch her top with a single finger and in no time, it burns to ashes, leaving her upper body bare. You can get a clear view of her pink perky nipples that seems to be demanding your mouth on them. But that can wait.

"Stop it!" Chaewon's free hand strikes you again but you repeat your earlier motion and pins it down to the ground. Now, both of her hands are trapped. She spits in your face but you couldn't care less.

"Snappy, are we?" You take one of her now erect nipples into your mouth and bite down with just the slightest force, eliciting a mewl from her.

"I swear I will - mmph" Chaewon's protests are silenced as your teeth sinks once again, this time a bit more harder. Your tongue swipes across the pink bud then around her aerola.

"You little - fuck!" Your mouth makes its way to her other nipple, which is no less stiff than the other. For someone who's being all defiant, her tits are telling a different story. You take your tine tasting every inch of Chaewon's nipple before finally pulling back after a particularly forceful bite.

Chaewon's face no longer have the initial fury. Instead, it has been clouded by a lust filled haze. She pant, beads of sweat trickling down her temple. Her mouth has been parted slightly but her vocal cords betray no sound.

"How is it, hmm? To be used by a man?"

You ask, closing your indexes and thumbs around her nipples before giving them another pinch. Her body jerks upward, legs trembling.

"You....you...have no idea....what you are..."

Her voice is so low it can be mistaken for a breath. Her chest heaves with each word, as if talking has become the hardest task in her life. Her lips part again but before she can mutter more nonsense, you shut her up with your own lips.

"Mmmmph" Chaewon's words get slurred, reduced into nothing but jumbles of muffles and moans when your tongue invades her oral hole. Your tongue explore, tracing every inch of her warm wet hole before it finally found its mate; her very own tongue. Your muscles interwined, greedily lapping up anything Chaewon can offer: the drool, the warmth, the whole squelching wet mess.

Your hands aren't mandatory either. A single touch with your index on her pants and much like her top, it burns away to crisp. As much as this new ability of yours is handy, you really wish it wouldn't be activated all the time. You don't want to end up stripping someone acciidentally.

As soon as her lower body is bare, your fingers snake their way along her inner thighs - tracing the supple path of skin on your way to her core. It doesn't take long for you to find her unprotected pussy despite your lack of vision. The wetness and these smooth folds are unmistakable.

You stop the finger fucking, just to imprint Chaewon's expression in memory before you fuck her up in all the right ways. The goddess is left panting like a bitch, lips parted and drool spilling. Not a trace of pride left in those silvery irises.

Your middle and ring fingers dig into her folds and even before you get their whole lengths in, Chaewon's already moaning like it's your cock which has entered her virgin hole. Perhaps this is a sample of what she will be like when you actually pound her to oblivion; screaming your name, begging and begging until she can't anymore.

It's the perfect revenge.

"For someone who hate cocks, you are already leaking like a faucet"

You mock before pulling your fingers back and ramming them back into her hole, earning another mewl from her.

"Cat got your tongue?"

Another thrust and thsi time, she actually speaks.

"Stop....stop....I..."

"Can't hear you"

And with that, your fingers go back to work, pumping her hole steady and in rhythm. Her pussy really lives up to its reputation of being a forbidden treasure to man. It's apparent in the way its tighteness engulf your fingers in a deadly grip.

The first few thrusts are tedious, her walls blocking the way with their millenial old tighteness. But after a few more pumps, all the protection crumbles and her hole becomes nothing but a playground for your fingers. And perhaps, for the first time, start spilling her womanly fluid.

You add your index, now fucking her with three fingers and it produces the most sinful of gasps and breaths from that shrewd tongue. Her cheeks are red; not a blush but rather an indicator of the heat you are pumping into her with every thrust of your fingers.

You allow your eyes to waver your attention from Chaewon's slut face just a moment and see the strangest scene unfolding. All of Artemis's hunters; all the Chaewons, who are acting like whores just a moment ago has now reached a new level of ecstasty. All of them lay sprawled out on the grass, their moans combining into a orchestra of lewdest sounds. Their legs are spread open and every moment or so, a geyser of squirt would erupt from their dripping pussies.

Wanting to test something, you abruptly stop the finger action on Chaewon. Then everything go still. The hunters stop being the rowdy ones they were just a few moments ago. The panting is still there but no more squirting. You almost burst out laughing.

Just as Artemis has said, they are really 'sisters'. They are 'one'. Not like you are a psychologist but you recognize they have a hive mind, which helps them coordinate their attacks perfectly. But the downside is, it also works when one of them is getting treated like a slut. If their mistress gets fingered, so will they. A brilliant flaw for you to utilize.

Eager to try out this new feature, you waste no time digging your fingers back into Chaewon's soaking cunt, instantly producing groans and moans from her hunters. Meanwhile, their mistress is far gone - pupils dilated and mouth hanging open like a fish on land. Even when your thrusts increase with each second, all the reaction you can get out of her are the momentary jerks and writhes of her legs. You have completely broken this goddess.

Nonetheless, you don't need anymore sign to realize that she's teetering on the edge. Her pulsing walls, the increased quaking of her thighs - all give the approaching end away. It doesn't take long for you to finally give her the release she so desperately seeks. With one last pump of your fingers, you make her crumble.

It seems to never end - the shower of juice erupting from her wet depths. It gets all over your clothes and your hair. But you just stand there, smiling like a madman as you take in the view of another goddess becoming prey to her own pleasure. Just another day for the chosen one.

When her orgasm finally subsides, Chaewon is left a mess - chest heaving and eyes rolled up. Her body is slick with sweat, glistening despite the misty haze of this place. Further back, her hunters has followed the same route. Their bare bodies lay limp on the grass, spent. You admire your handiwork for a moment before you move on to the next step.

If anyone thinks you are finished here, they would be wrong. This is just the prologue to your grand plan of deflowering the goddess. And even if she weren't a virgin, you would have still done the same. Because the mark of Asmodeus is hungry. And the lust it has brewed up in you needs to be satisfied.

And the mark knows it too. Because with a single will, all the clothes on your body shimmer in a blinding light and disappear. And that's when you see it; your cock, which has become the hardest material in the world. All your throbbing veins have become visible, glowing plae gold and enveloped by a faint halo. Not to mention the mark, burning a deep shade of scarlet. This is no longer a male sexual organ. This is the weapon of a god.

Triumphantly, your fingers entangle in the goddess's raven hair, bringing her face close to yours. Is that a slither of resistance you see in her eyes? It doesn't matter. This is your hunting ground and she is the prey.

"Tired already? We are just getting started dear"

Chaewon mutters something that sounds like something between a moan and a huff. It's hard to say with her broken voice.

"Say something bitch"

You spit in her face, a revenge for earlier. Still, the goddess is silent except for incoherent raspy gasps. She just stays there, her pupils dilated like a lifeless doll.

You should be proud of the job you have done. How thoroughly you have ruined Chaewon with your fingers alone. But seeing her this broken ruins your mood. Sure, you are still gonna fuck her. But where's the fun when the only reaction you can get out of deflowering her are bits and pieces of sound. It's a complete turn off.

And then there it comes again. The voice inside you. No. A tug would be more suitable - an urge that manifests so suddenly. Without thinking, you touch Chaewon's forehead with your index finger.

Much to your horror, a line of red starts to burn just below her neck. It wounds into a circle on her skin then trace a straight line across it. After a while, you realize. The mark of Asmodeus is being carved on her skin - the very mark on your plevis.

After the imprinting is complete, the mark flares to life. But unlike yours, it doesn't glow scarlet. Instead, it shines a brilliant blue. Chaewon's eyes open and for a moment, you panick.

Have you acidentally transferred your mark to Chaewon?

"Master"

The words that leave Chaewon's lips leave you confused. It's like the goddess have become a different person. She kneels, looking up at you with eyes full of life. The silver of them replaced by blue.

"How can I serve you?"

That's when you understand what this new mark actually does. It has turned the goddess into a slut by completely altering her will. Just how powerful have you become?

You decided to leave the question for later, focusing on your new servant instead.

"You can start by putting that mouth of yours to good use"

"As you wish, master"

Chaewon's fists close on your cock, starting off with a full fingers handjob. She pumps your pole slowly, admiring all those veins glittering gold. The pace is slow and yet, you find her touch addictive. Maybe this is what a goddess's handjob feels like.

"Master cock is so big....so beautiful..."

With that praise, she brings her face a sucking distance from your cock. Her lips are hovering just above your tip and you can feel her warm breath that tickles your length. If this is foreplay, it's doing its job very well. After a couple more languid stroke and tantalizing breaths, you can't take it any more.

"I think I told you to suck me off"

"Sorry master"

Her soft lips finally closes in around your tip and there isn't any words to describe how heavenly the feeling is. The way those pink things drag along your tip only to pull it back in - it's the emboidment of ecstasy. You could have just let her focus solely on your tip and blow a load into her mouth. That's how good it is.

But Chaewon have different plans. Her mouth suddenly takes more than half of your length in one swift bob. The action causes her hair to fall in strands around her face but she looks even more beautiful that way. Messy face, all her assests exposed and mouth stuffed by your pole. This is your favorite form of art.

"Fuck, Chaewon. Don't stop"

A moan reasonates around your cock - the vibration sending a shiver down your spine. You don't know if it was a muffled sound of graitude or a planned act but you enjoy it nonetheless. If not, you want her to do it again.

You take a moment to study your surroundings as Chaewon works her magic. Among the tall grass, propped by the pines are the hunters, who have been now tied up with translucent lassos. Not like it's necessary. They are too horny to even lift a finger.

The work is, without a doubt, done by Kazuha. And speaking of Kazuha, she nows sit on the ground, looking no less ragged than before. At least the bleeding have stopped. Her eyes are fixed on the scene of Chaewon blowing your cock. No sign of shame or embarassment on that cold face. The same face she has wore when you fucked her fellow angel Yeji.

You turn away from your audience back to the slutty goddess who's worshipping your cock. Her blowjob has become a total mess all this while - spit bubblig and drool spilling. Ever so often, a gag would comes out distorted whenver your cock hits the back of her throat. You look into those watery eyes and praise.

"Look at you, Artemis. All whiny about being allergic to man before and now you are letting a man shove his cock down your mouth. You must be the biggest liar ever"

Chaewon doesn't seem to understand any of your words so she just keeo bobbing her head. She has been brainwashed into a whore whose only will is to serve your cock. And you can live with that happily.

Chaewon doesn't seem to be stopping anytime soon. She just keeps impaling her hole on your cock again and again and again. Gag reflex seems a million light years away. Is this another perk of being a goddess?

You are becoming too consumed by Chaewon's sloppy head. It's filthy, wet and messy. A perfect brew of your darkest desires. If she keeps on with it, her pussy wouldn't be the place you are storing your load in.

It'd be so easy to get lost in the bliss her skillful tongue is providing but you have other holes to take care of. A s much as it's difficult, you grab a fistful of Chaewon's hair and stops her.

She looks up, chin drenched in her own drool. She almost looks disappointed about the abrupt halt.

"Let's take a look at that tight virgin hole, shall we?"

You ask and Chaewon nods in return.

"Is master gonna take my virginity? Finally fill my pussy with his hot load?"

If the Artemis in the distant past can see the brainless whore she hae become, she wouldn't have even tried to touch you. But now, it's too late.

"That's the plan. Turn around. Show me that ass"

"I can't wait for your cock to stuff me full, master"

And with that she turns, getting on all fours to display those pale cheeks. Her back is slick with sweat and it only gets you pumped up even more. You have no time for foreplay. Not with how drunk on arousal you are. You need to pound her cunt. Hard and fast.

"Ohhhhh fuckkkkk"

Chaewon lets out a carnal groan as soon as your tip part her lips, easing its way in inch by inch. Despite all the juices she has wet herself with earlier, you are surprised to find the grip of her pussy still unyielding. Her walls clench on you in a vice grip and if it's not for the mark, the pressure would have been unbearable.

You start off with a few slow thrusts, getting accustomed to the topography of her unused hole. It doesn't take long until your dick mold her insides to its shape. Getting the first taste of a man's dick, her pussy has already become addicted to the rigid foreign body stretching her out. Her walls are pulsing as if begging you to go deeper.

"Master. I need you to fill me up. Make me so full...nghhh"

You cut off Chaewon's breath by inserting another extra inch to suffice the goddess's thirst for your cock. The fingering earlier has done its job well to coat her walls with a natural lube. Her juice slicken walls allow you to ease in inch by inch.

The initial tighteness was no more. All it's left to do is stretch open the rest of her uncharted depths. You are in no rush. The only thing better than being the first time of someone is being the first time of a goddess.

The goddess who just tried to kill you.

It's sick but the thought is an unbearble turn on that gets your cock throbbing even more. All her daggers and arrows and blades are useless against your cock, opening her up like a gift.

"More. Give me more. Yes, stretch my cunt. Yes yes yessss"

Chaewon's past the point of saving. Cock drunk would be the only word to describe this new toy of yours. She won't stop begging even when she's getting impregnated by the gloriest cock to exist.

And the needy mewls go on when you finally bury your whole length to the hilt. You hold there, balls deep. A second passes. Then two. New status of Artemis: deflowered.

"You are filling me up so well master. I can feel you getting even harder. Are you gonna paint my insides? Put a baby in me? I-"

"Shut up, slut"

The constant nagging of Chaewon's get on your nerves in a twisted way, urging you to show no mercy to this goddess whose holes are the only use she will ever had. With a tight grip on her bangs, you pull her face up, looking into those rolled up bedroom eyes as you pound her hole without mercy.

The verse opf Artemis has become nothing but a backdrop for your impudent act - squelches of your pelvis against her cheeks echoing in every direction. It becomes even more harmonious combined with the raw unfiltered sounds Chaewon's producing.

So this is what it's like to ruin a goddess, you think. Taking Persephone anally was one hell of a ride(quite literally) but it's nothing compared to this. Artemis is a completely different breed. And this time, you don't have to worried about getting caught. You have all the time in the world. And you will spend it wisely.

Your tip kisses Chaewon's cunt as you ram your length into her with increasing force if that's even possible. Her cheeks jiggle like jelly each time you make contact and you can't resist the urge to spank that pale ass.

"Fuck!"

Chaewon mewls as soon as the first slap of many to come lands on her right cheek quickly followed by another to the left. You are memorized by the way her flesh ripples, which leads your palm to work relentlessly. Left, right, left, right and left, right until her round ass has turned scarlet - the proof of your ownership imprinted on her.

Getting pretty bored of her ass, you stop of a moment to turns her around in a missionary position. You give each of her tits a harsh slap before you ram your cock back into her snug cavern again.

"Yesssssss"

Eyes rolled up and tongue hanging out in a perfect ahaego face, Chaewon is no different from a cheap slut anyone can pound with a few bucks. That's how much she has come to love your rigid mamba violating her cherished hole in every way possible. And the best part is, she's loving it.

"Master. I'm gonna...."

You grip her thighs and opens her legs even wider to put yourself in a mating press position. This way, you can spear into Chaewon as deep as you could. When you start pistoning your hips, Chaewon shows her gratitude by spilling her juices for the second time.

You fuck her through her orgasm, not giving her a single moment to catch her breath. Afterall, she's your toy. And toys are supposed to stay there and be used whatever way their owner likes. And Chaewon is a perfect example.

You can feel the mark growing hoter, its red glow bathing Chaewon in a vermillion veil. As if in response, the blue mark on her chest shimmers even brighter. The sight of those two marks; an unbreakable connection pushes you over the edge.

If this isn't ecstasy, you don't know what is. You can feel the adrenaline inside you reaching the peak for a final time as you pump her cunt full of your hot, sticky cum. The first few spurts go straight to her womb soon followed by the remaining seeds in your balls, which are perfectly smeared all over her midriff and tits.

"Master's cum. So hot..."

Artemis mutters dreamily as you spill the few last drops on her face. Her fingers dig into her loose hole, digging out your cum before bringing it into her mouth.

"Mhmm. Delicious"

She collects more of your fluid all over her body, tating it like her favorite meal. On second thought, its no surpirse a slut like her can live on your cum.

You can feel the power already draining out from your body. The mark dims and fades until not a single trace of it is left on your skin. Then comes the fatigue, which hits you like a truck.

The world does a 360 degree around you and you have to hold yourself up on your palms. You could have just lied there and never woke up again. The mark has done its job and leaft you weak and frail.

Surprisingly, the mark have faded on Chaewon too. Her chest is back to the smooth canvas it once was. A stream of cum leaks out of her used hole as she lays there, heaving.

The scenery around you starts to shift. The wood has gone lifeless. The cold calm it once held has been replaced by an uncanny lifelessness. It makes your skin crawl.

Then cracks start to appear out of thin air like glass walls being fractured. The ground rumbles and a loud wail rises up from it. You panick, desperately seeking for something to hold onto.

"Hold there"

Kazuha's voice splits through the air.

"It will be over soon"

Who are you gonna trust if you don't trust an angel?

So you obey, trying not to scream as the whole place starts to crumble. More cracks have appeared and soon the world around you is covered by messy fractures.

Then the rumbling stops and with a sound like glass breaking, the scenery around you shatters to pieces.

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

You blink and you are back to the hall of Eros.

"I would have clapped if my hands weren't tied you know"

Eros is still there, not an inch moved fron his position before with hands bound. That stupid grin has beem plastered on his face - displaying his pearly whites.

"You are welcome"

You retort before realizing you are butt naked and instinctively cover your manhood with your hands.

"Kazuha gets to watch but I don't? No fair"

You would have punched Eros in the face if you don't feel like you are gonna pass out any moment. The audacity of this little fucker to joke around after putting your life on the line.

"Kazuha? What are you doing? Get me out of these"

Kazuha looks like she would have left Eros that way if he doesn't speak up. Reluctantly, she brings down her arms in a wide arc and slash through the chain.

"Thank you"

Eros's tone sound almost mocking as he stands and stretches his arms. After cracking his neck, he looks straight at you with those brilliant blue eyes.

"Well done, Michael! You have accomplished what I exactly hoped for"

"What? Fucking another goddess?"

"Her? Shush. No way"

He gestures to the right and that's when you see Artemis and all her hunters, sprawled out all across the hall with their bodies bare. None of them seems to be conscious.

"Do you know the reason I get caught? Because I intended to"

Another flex. Typical fucking Eros.

"Can you just get to the point? I can't promise you my mind and body will be in contact after a few minutes"

"You always skip the good parts Michael" He sounds almost regretful. "The thing is I enter Artemis's verse with the helm of darkness on purpose to lure her here"

"Wh-"

"Why? You may ask. Because I want her to kill you"

You are really starting to hate that habit of Eros that always seems to refuse giving a straight up answer. The god has to get a little 'creative'.

"Wh-"

"Why? To awaken the mark fully. To bring out its full potential. And you saw it didn't you? All the pain is worth it. It's a small price to pay for absolute power"

You hate yourself for believing the same thing. You would gladly traded all the blood you spilled to unlock the mark's secrets. Only you know what that power, that total certainity was like. It's like nothing else.

"So.....all the torturing Artemis did help the mark to reach its full power?"

"Exactly" Eros snaps his fingers.

"What about the helm of darkness then? Don't tell me you lost it"

"Oh no" Eros spreads his palm and the power symbol of Hades manifests with smoky tendrils. "I gave her a decoy"

Did what Eros said explain everything?

Not at all. This love god looks all jolly and easy going on the outside but sometimes, his action reminds you that you have no idea how twisted he actually is deep down. He has helped you obtained all this power and for what? And also something Artemis had said about someone else possessing the mark before you.....

"Why-"

Your question is interrupted by a loud chime reasonating around the hall. You have absolutely no idea this place has door bells.

"Who......"

Eros trails off before his eyes fix on a single door of many that circles the hall. This one is a set of tall marble doors with numerous designs of flowers and swans engraved on its surface. Seems like something Eros would absolutely love. But the god doesn't look so happy right now.

"Oh...shit"

The doors swung open and bright rays of light flood the room. You have to put up your arms to shield your eyes. The glow finally subsides to reveal a figure, standing with arms crossed.

Anger lines are eteched onto Karina's face - offering a strak contrast to its otherworldly beauty. The leader of Aespa looks like she's going to explode any moment.

"Eros!" She grumbles. "What are you doing?"

The usual carefree look on Eros's face is no more. All you can see is fear and dread.

His lips part and seal rapidly like a seabass, unable to make a sound. After a while, realization dawns on his face that he can't escape this. And that's when he speaks.

"Mom?"

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

(This has been in my drafts for so long and I'm just too lazy to finish it. Might have gone a bit overboard with the word count. This is probably the longest fic I have written lol. Enjoy)

#kpop smut #chaewon smut #lesserafim smut #kazuha smut #male reader #kpop fanfic

593 notes · View notes

kneelingshadowsalome · 9 months

Note

I know we're all focused on Satyr/Faun König but that bull comment... I'm quite partial to minotaur's and whats better than a darling who isn't from the area. Oh yes she's innocent of the crimes against König because she was not raised there.

Some foreign little creature just running blind in a maze trying to see where there might be a way out. It's been days after all and the screaming has gotten quieter and she wonders if she's the last one left alive. He takes his time eating his meals... this can be stretched out for such a long time as she hides herself in a dead end just a short rest... the darling is so tired unaware of the horrifyingly silent steps moving closer to her little haven. It's just her left now.

@kit-williams I've wanted to write for Minotaur!König for ages!

Minotaur!König x Ariadne!Reader Word count: 5 k oneshot Tags/warnings: Sexual tension, threats of violence and rape, implied cannibalism, power imbalance, moral ambiguity. Predator/prey dynamic, Beauty and the Beast elements, Ancient Greek religion & lore. 18+ MDNI A/N: The Minotaur in this story is not an actual hybrid. Reader is Hecate’s initiate. Merry Christmas y'all! <3

EDIT: PART 2 HERE

The screams are the worst part.

They echo through the Labyrinth while you wait and wait and wait.

Even the very stones seem to cry and wail as you place your hope on Theseus who descended to this hell along with you and the human cattle. Seven young men and seven unwed women, meant to satisfy a beast...

And judging by the screams alone, it sounds like the monster is satisfied. It sounds like it's having a ball.

Fourteen lives have been lost, their blood swallowed by the earth as if Hades himself is drinking the crimson of Athenian youth in His feast. The flesh is the beast’s to devour: an underworld demon born of tainted lust.

Half bull, half man, you always thought the stories were only tales told by the fire to scare children. Turns out that the stories, for once, are true. There's something even worse in this maze, something cursed and foul... Hecate herself would shiver if She were here, in the womb of the earth, witnessing what you’re witnessing now.

You don’t actually see the Bull of Crete cut or hack or slash anyone, and you can only imagine what the monster does to the bloody, gutted corpses of the young. The only thing you see are the hollow, dark walls carved out of soil, sand, and clay, the intestine-like route dug deep into the earth. And you don't have to see the massacre: the screams tell you enough. The silence that follows betrays even more.

Your only light is flickering, waning: the candle will hardly last an hour. If the hero from Athens won’t arrive soon, you will have to leave this place.

And oh, how you want to leave… You were a fool to follow him here. Blinded by love and hope, you thought Theseus of Athens would be your way out of Crete, but it’s clear that the only thing the young hero is capable of loving is fame. The only time his eyes turned to yours was when you said you might be able to help him with a small bundle of yarn.

Red as the setting sun or spilling blood, the thin woollen string is your only way out now. It’s ironic how a heap of twine is the only thing that can help you out of this hellhole, but the Fates always did possess a cruel sense of humour. Your silly daydreams might’ve cost your life, and even if you’re sworn to the dark goddess, you would rather die anywhere but here. In the darkness, all alone, with nothing but eyeless worms to keep company to your decaying bones.

The sudden draft from the outside world is warm but threatens to blow out your candle. It’s a sign from Apollo: if you don’t leave now, you’re dead. Theseus has to manage without you because you’re not dying in this underworld prison because of some man’s stupid lust for fame.

There's only deafening silence in the maze as you scurry up, taking support from the wall as your sight darkens for a moment. You rose too soon: you can’t even remember the last time you ate. And it appears that even the sun god has abandoned you because there's a faint echo of steps in the tunnel, and they don’t belong to a man. They’re too thick, unduly heavy, and it’s not a pair of sandals that are thumping against the soil.

So, Theseus is dead...

So much for the legend, the myth, the demigod.

Heart thumping in your chest and in the hollow of your throat, it threatens to drown the sound of approaching footsteps. They’re all dead, the people who descended here with you. The only thing you are right now is prey. You're being hunted; whether the Minotaur knows you're here or not, you know you're being hunted. You can feel it in your gut.

You cover the candle with one hand, hoping that the flickering light doesn’t reach around the bend. The falling thump of the footsteps stops, and you still your breath, hoping that the beast would turn around and search the other way.

You hear it sniffing behind the wall. It's trying to catch your scent in the air, the smell of dread and terror, sweat so thick it must reach his nostrils and make them flare with lust. Your heart is thundering in your chest, and the tunnel is so quiet that that you’re certain the creature will hear that, too. (Your heart always betrays you.)

And your luck is cursed.

The beast shifts.

You can’t see him yet, but you can hear it: the scraping sound underneath his feet as he aligns himself anew, choosing the path that leads straight down to you.

“Hecate save me,” you whisper into the air that seems to grow denser as he approaches, loud thumps of feet now accompanied by metal grating against clay.

“Hear me, flame-bearing guide... Darkness, protect me…”

He’s dragging bronze against the wall, announcing that he’s carrying a weapon with him, the strength of a bull apparently not satisfying enough if he wants to break your bones with metal.

Don’t blow out the candle...

If you blow it out, you’ll die.

It’s a clear message, a knowing voice in your head that says it. It’s not young, it’s not old: just knowing. Alert. Wise beyond ages.

So you still your breath and wait.

Shadows fill the curve of the tunnel just before he emerges: thick like thunder, a darkness so deep that even the name of the twilight goddess escapes your tongue.

And he’s big. Bigger than the bulls you used to dance with, bigger than kings, or heroes, bigger than even Theseus, the man you thought was a myth walking. His head is enormous, bigger than the rest of him, awkward and rough like it’s not quite part of him even though he’s supposed to be half ox.

The gigantic, horned figure stops when it sees you. Vast shoulders tense; the fat, double-edged sword falls to his side when he settles to loom between you and your only way to escape this place. You’re oddly thankful that the horrible screeching stopped, but then you notice that his blade is drenched in blood: actually, his torso, thighs, even the buckskin loincloth – the only garment this monster has chosen to wear – is spattered with red dots.

The bronze tip drips with crimson, and the earth drinks it all. Hades is never satisfied: this beast is never full. Everyone who was sent down here is dead: everyone else has met their doom except you. You wonder if your mother would cry if she heard her only daughter died because she fell in love with a fool.

“I killed your hero,” the walls of hell boom.

His voice is thick like tar, dark and foul like it’s the God of Earth himself speaking.

The flame in your hand quivers from fear, and you slowly remove your palm, the tiny candle illuminating the beast with warm homely yellow, making the prominent muscles of his chest even bigger.

He’s carved like the statues in Athens, only, this giant is far hairier than the painted marble heroes of the city. The hair on his chest is thick and wild; it shoots down his abdomen and disappears underneath the loincloth, spreads over his inner thighs, even covers his shins in dark mats. He looks like a wild man, a beast indeed: sweaty, filthy and thick. But you never knew a beast like him could talk…

“A coward, that one,” he snarls, the voice reverberating oddly like it’s a human man speaking from under a wooden mask or inside a clay jug.

And you believe every word he says.

Theseus was strong and able-bodied, but he had built his strength just to show it off. This man’s body speaks of pure, ripe survival.

A hulking shadow with shoulders that barely fit the tunnels of the Labyrinth, with palms nearly twice the size of yours, he’s the myth walking instead of the hero whose blood now adorns that dull bronze blade. The Minotaur who survived his father’s wrath, his mother’s absence, these bleak surroundings, and all the heroes sent down to get his head… His weapon isn’t even sharp anymore, and still, he managed to cut through the sacrificial humans like butter. And what a horrific death it must’ve been to be hacked to pieces by a dull blade.

Is it evil of you to hope that the death of your “hero” wasn’t a quick one…?

Theseus was a fool and a coward, rotten to the core, but you saw all of that too late. He never cared about the human sacrifices or the king’s wrath; he never cared about digging into Pasiphae’s sorrow. He only cared about getting his face depicted on a pot or having his deeds played out in amphitheatres, his name uttered in song, accompanied by harp and flute.

“I know.”

Your voice gets sucked into the earth: it doesn’t echo from the walls like his. It’s thin, damp, and frail, just like everything else meant to walk under the sun instead of stand buried under the earth.

But the beast before you tilts its head a little. It’s curious.

Why would you say that?

Why don’t you cry from hearing the news...? Why don’t you howl out your hero’s name and beg the gods to heed your grief? Why don’t you run away from a monster?

The candlelight is puny and weak, but it’s bright enough to bring out the eyes of an animal. You draw breath in the dampness of the earth when you finally see it: the bull’s head is devoid of eyes, and yet, the beast still has them. Blue as the summer sky, stern as the death grip of winter just before spring.

There’s nothing but ripped shreds of skin where the eyes should be, and instead of looking at you from the sides, they’re greeting you from the front. The horns are sturdy, but otherwise, the colossal head is a bit skewed... Thick patches of fur sticking out as if it was years and years old, and then – you realize it’s not his head; it’s only an illusion.

There’s a man under there. A full, grown man who’s made himself a terrible helmet out of a bull’s carcass.

“You’re a man,” you say out loud, earning yourself another shift of the colossal head.

“...What?”

The muffled echo confirms it: he’s speaking from inside the bull, moving only slightly to get a better look at you.

“You’re not a monster. You’re just a man.”

His eyes are wild but intelligent; they pierce you from inside the inanimate shield. The large chest heaves, his ribs flare like sails as he draws air through what must be the foul stench of a long-dead animal.

He takes a step, and you shrink, almost dropping your candle and the roll of red yarn.

“You think talking will save you, female?”

He speaks like a man, walks like a man, but his moves are an animal’s. Shoulders slightly hunched like he’s a bull about to attack, you recognize the way his muscles quiver from the times when you used to do bull leaping. You don’t dance with Rhea’s oxen anymore: your tasks at Hecate’s temple are more suitable and less wild for a maiden your age. Back when you were younger and more agile, you used to jump from the back of one bull to the next, clouds of dust swirling around you as you showed your prowess to the priests.

But you can’t charm this ox by dancing. This one can’t be tricked or fooled: he will pierce you with those horns or his brazen sword if you take even a step.

“I can get you out of here,” you wet your lips, noticing that the blue eyes shoot straight to your mouth when you do that. “I know the way out.”

“What makes you think I want out,” he says, so tight and tense that you fear he’s either about to leap at your throat or plunge his sword into your chest.

And you should be concerned about your own safety, not about his sensibilities – if he even has such things – but hearing this beast man’s reply is like drinking bile.

Why would anyone want to stay here?

You don’t know if he eats human flesh; you don’t know if he had to in order to survive. Everyone knows why his father threw him down here, but no one knows he’s not half the things the people above say he is. And if half of it isn’t true, what other lies have been told about the Minotaur?

Even most prisoners see the sun, yet this man has been deprived of that, too. He’s been robbed of mother’s love, of father’s mercy, of friends and foes, of mentors and guides. He’s been robbed of life, of stars, of fires and summer skies, of women’s giggles, of fistfights with fellow men. Of songs and plays, of festivals and games, of bull dances, and maidens that leap…

“Have you ever been up there…? On the surface?”

You turn your voice into soft water on pebbles, a soothing pour of persuasion and goodwill. His pecs contract, strong abs under thin hair and body fat bunch like you’re about to hit him there. You take a step, and now it’s his turn to shun away. It’s only half an inch, but he actually moves away from you.

“I can take you there,” you offer gently. “Have you ever seen the sun…?”

It’s like talking to a starved predator, trying to entice them to follow you with a fresh steak in hand, hoping that the fanged mouth won’t take more than was promised if it decides to accept the offering.

And the beast accepts.

“As a boy,” he grunts, a tad more softly.

Those eyes are fixed on you, reminding you of horses when they’re slightly afraid. The glint of white and blue behind the carcass is fiercely alive, quite unlike the hollow, disinterested stare of the Athenian hero who was only interested in himself.

But this beast is interested. Oh, the Bull Man of Crete is wildly, fiercely curious about you.

“You’ll take me to the sun,” he repeats, an affirmation rather than a question.

“Yes. To the surface. I promise.”

He moves. Like an animal who learned long ago to drive others into the corner so that he wouldn’t get forced there himself, he’s primal, sensual in the way that oracles in a trance are sensual.

Approaching you in silence that’s almost eerie, the hairs at the nape of your neck stand on end by the time he’s only an arm’s length away. Why announce his coming earlier if he can move so quietly?

“You’ll lead me to my father.”

His gaze bores into you, and not even the warm draft from the tunnels can prevent you from shivering. He’s distrustful, and it’s no wonder. It must be odd that some girl with a candle and a bundle of yarn is suddenly waiting for him around the bend, and doesn’t even flee. He’s a behemoth, but he’s not stupid. A stupid man would not have been able to survive, let alone thrive in this place.

And why should he trust you? Who is he supposed to trust in this maze when every person he has seen has either run away from him or tried to kill him? His father will slaughter him if he ever escapes the Labyrinth, so what else is a priestess in his kingdom but a squealing mouse, trying to feed him lies and then guide him to the surface and into a forest of spears?

“No,” you shake your head slowly. “No, I promise I know the way. There will be no soldiers–”

You shut your mouth just before a huge palm closes around your throat.

Gods, but he moves fast when he wants to…

The candle and the yarn drop the instant his hand seizes your neck, strong fingers nearly meeting at the back as he squeezes your windpipe ever so slowly.

And he’s so close now. The carcass reeks of death, but the man underneath stinks of plain human sweat. His musk is a peculiar mix of blood, earth and soil, something both stale and invigorating, the thin sheen of sweat and dirt covering his muscles making him look like a common builder. It’s strange that the bull’s head hasn’t yet decayed in this place, that the man doesn’t reek of bodies and bones that must be scattered around like debris further down the tunnels.

Another thing that’s strange is that he doesn’t seem to want to simply silence you.

He also wants to touch you.

A wide thumb strokes the underside of your jaw as he studies you. It slides down the column of your throat, the blue eyes gleaming with fascination when you swallow against him.

He drinks in the sight of you: the lips that part with fear, the frail collarbones that breathe against the side of his palm. The promising crevice between your breasts, the enticing softness of your teats.

You can hear his breath grow heavy under ox skin and bone, the rugged, vicious helmet he has chosen to wear. What lies under, you can only imagine, wherein he has little left to the imagination when taking in the curve of your breasts, your nipples rising to peaks under the thin white linen only temple virgins use.

Seeing your reaction to his touch makes him growl -- he actually growls like an animal, a deep, low rumble of approval rising up his throat when he sees how different your body is from his. How supple and cushy it is, soft and plump like a peach, covered only barely as if to tease a best like him. You wonder if he ever took pleasure in the maidens sent here by the king… If he ever thrust the sword between his legs into their weak bodies before giving them the mercy of his actual blade. Would he even know what to do with a woman, having lived here for so long?

“Please,” you whisper, bringing his eyes back to yours, the ice in them now liquid sapphire of pure want.

Gods… You need to bring his attention back to your offer of help before he sees it more compelling to just stay here and play with his new, plump little mouse. Virgin or not, you wouldn’t survive a mating with this man.

“I swear on Hecate’s torch that it’s not a trap. You have my word: I’m a priestess soon to be.”

He’s entranced. Hypnotized by your lips. You lick them to confirm your fears true: the man grunts with pleasure, out of instinct, absentmindedly like an animal who reacts to the sight of a fat, meaty bone.

Oh, he might not know what to do with a woman… But he would try his best to find out.

“Priestess…?” He rasps.

“It’s a holy woman,” you explain. “I serve the Goddess of the Crossroads.”

He snorts, either because he’s not impressed or because he’s downright amused by your vocation. The eyes, warmer, more demanding now, are far from the eyes of a bewildered beast.

“Little female of the crossroads... You will take me to the king. And then, I will kill him.”

He puts weight into his words, tries to make you understand.

He wants you to guide him to his father.

To the King who claims his son is half bull, to the husband who claims his wife was adulterous with an ox. To the King who demands tribute as virgins so that he can send them down to hell. The dark goddess screams justice, but you're at a horrible stalemate.

The gods will curse you for this… They will smite you with a bolt of lightning or drown you next time you cross the great sea if they see you’ve helped this half-beast escape. If you guide him to Minos, you’re a participant in kingslaying, and the gods never forget things like that.

“He’s your father and the king of Crete,” you whisper in fear. “The gods will strike you down–”

“Gods?” He spits. “I piss on the gods. I fuck their corpses and leave them to rot.”

You almost choke on the blasphemy levelled at you. The shadows creep closer, the stare behind the black fur is dark and amused, burning with the crooked wrath of a thousand years.

“Perhaps I’ll fuck you too.”

It’s unnerving that you don’t find the threat wholly unappealing.

If anything, your eyes drift down to the hairs of his chest, to the two big muscles that resemble the work of the best sculptors in Athens.

“Are you a virgin, female of the crossroads?”

His eyes search for your response: they want to see your fear and disgust. You swallow again, arduously against his hand, both caressing and testing you.

The beast leans forward, as if weighing if he could somehow insult the gods by pillaging you. The rough hair of his chest meets the white cloth, it brushes against your nipples as he bends down to have a good sniff of you.

“You smell like a virgin,” he growls.

The hand leaves your throat, only to travel down your sternum. He grabs your breast nonchalantly, a little too roughly, the hot palm closing around the teat and squeezing it like it’s a toy. When you don’t react, he squeezes it again, this time hard enough to coax a whimper out of you.

“Sound like a virgin…”

Without warning, the hand dives straight between your legs next, palm forcing its way through your thighs and curving to cup your sex, moulding around it with barbaric thirst.

“Feel like a virgin, too.”

It’s thick, hot, and heavy, how he simply tries you through your dress. Fingers testing your folds, he’s clearly enjoying the subtle wetness he finds down there. You can hear another hitched grunt pushing up his throat, rugged and whiny this time, a broken groan that dissipates because of how dry his throat is.

No man has ever dared to lay his hands on you... Many have wanted, but none have tried. Even drunkards and fools respect women who belong to the dark goddess.

But he doesn’t care about the wrath of Hecate. He doesn’t give a shit about the gods. He simply takes what he wants, what falls into his lap. The fifteenth offering, but he doesn’t seem to be interested in devouring your flesh.

How easily he could simply yank that loincloth aside and drag your dress up. Force his cock into your tight, wet heat without uttering a word. You doubt that he would even take the trouble of laying you down on the ground for taking... Beasts rut when they want to: this man could fuck you against this wall if his loins demanded so, guttural groans being the last thing you hear before the candle goes out.

You don’t know if you have to spread your legs for him before this is over, but you reckon you will do even that if it means you’ll see the sun again. You’ll endure every thick thrust, and gods be cursed, you wouldn’t even be solely disgusted if this half-animal chose to breed you... As shameful as it is, you would somewhat enjoy having him rut you like an animal in heat.

And you’ve gone mad, surely.

You want to touch him too, just to test another theory.

Deciding that it's a good idea to stick your hand into the maw of hell, your fingers lift. They meet his bicep, and the lewd panting stops.

He’s not even breathing… He’s just drowsy and drunk, looking at you with a mixture of soft sleepiness and awe in his stare. Like a dog who has never been petted, even his eyes drift half closed when he forgets to threaten you, now focusing solely on your hand.

And you start to caress him, slowly, so slowly… Tracing the muscle all the way up where it meets the shoulder, you stroke even the thick cord that leads to his neck. The rest of him disappears under the bull, but the man behind it already shivers under your touch. He even bends his head a little in hopes that you would go under the mask and touch him there, and the gesture reminds you of an animal exposing its vulnerable areas, baring its very throat in submission.

Braving a quick peek down, you notice that the buckskin cloth is stretched high and wide. His whole body is tense and immobile: you could cup him through the soft animal skin and he would probably shoot his seed from a single stroke of your palm.

If this is not a virgin, you don’t know what is...

In a way, it would perhaps be wise to shove your hand down and disarm this man. That way, you would be safe for a few more minutes. Instead, you lay your palm over his chest, right over where his heart should be.

“So do you, Bull of Crete...”

His gaze flickers.

The darkness hesitates, widens, nearly swallows the azure pools whole. But he doesn’t look irate or wild... Only shocked.

It’s an impasse. A thicket. His hand on you, your hand on him.

He surrenders first: the underworld budges before the utterly pure. You bless him with grace the instant he withdraws his hand from between your legs – slowly, reluctantly, like leaving a place that belongs to him. Or to which he belongs…

“I promise I’ll help you, Minos Tauros. But I need you to give me something in return.”

You remove your hand too. Softly, slowly, like a horse master who trains and tames wild things. All words seem to have escaped his tongue: he only grunts, unsure of what a beast like him could give you in return for your help.

“You must promise to be kind to me.”

“Kind...?”

“I need you to behave,” you explain. “No bad things on the way up... No fucking.”

Everything else, he seems to accept, but during the last sentence the Minotaur blinks at you, utterly confused.

“But... You smell like you want to fuck.”

Your jaw drops open a tiny bit. Then you remember that a priestess of Hecate doesn’t gawk.

“I don’t–How would you know that…?”

The beast only shrugs. Then he leans forward and takes another sniff as if to prove it’s true that you want his cock inside you.

“You smell good,” he grunts. “Different... Female, not afraid.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to…”

He even raises his hand to inspect the slight wetness there. Fascinated by the thin film on his fingers, he rubs his thumb in it, probably thinking about bringing it under his mask to get a good sniff of your juices too.

You grab his wrist without thinking, mortified to your core by the prospect of him getting high on your slick.

“Look. We need to leave before the candle burns out.”

The obsessive stare threatens to swallow you once more, so you let go of his wrist and steel your resolve. Scooting down to grab your things, you try to ignore the violent erection still pointing straight at you.

Hecate keep you from offering yourself to this man out of your own free will...

And you don’t have a torch, only a candle and a skein of blood-red yarn, but you know the way out, so there’s hope. There’s always hope.

“I need you to promise me,” you turn at the mouth of the tunnel, seeing that he’s still standing there, in the place where he almost took you like his first whore. As if waking up from a thrall, he straightens to his full height, picks up his sword and looks like a half-human, half-bull once more.

“I promise,” comes a booming voice from under the animal skull. “No fucking… I’ll behave.”

You nod. There's a sense of trust in the air. A promise of hope... It's mutual, invigorating -- life-giving, like the sun and blood in your hands.

You don't know if the son of Minos has ever smiled in here, but from the quick glint in his eyes, you suspect that he's smiling right now, the man under that animal mask. Somehow, it reminds you of the stars in the sky.

“Lead the way, maiden.”

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