Chapter Text
You feel more than you See what happens before waking up in a cold sweat. An all encompassing feeling of loss hits you before you’re even out of bed, stumbling out and gasping for air. It comes from the core of your very being, unable to lie to yourself that this is only a nightmare. That it’s not a vision and you’re just being paranoid over nothing.
Trembling hands hover slightly, having nothing to grab onto before falling back to your sides. You find your footing, and with silent trepidation you start to move towards the entrance of your room and slowly head out. The moon is still out, and the light it grants is enough for you to forgo a lantern that could have provided a better source.
Honestly you’re not thinking straight, and the urgency in which you move only doubles as your chest lurches you forward. Something is wrong wrong wrong, and you’re not fast enough. Even as you start running you know that there’s no point. Not anymore. Not in the way it matters.
You only slow down when the cella appears before you, and in doing so the scene becomes that much clearer. Both in your mind’s eye and in the reality of the situation at hand.
A murder has been committed. A murder between gods no less.
Stunned silence is all you can provide as an audience of one, unable to move from your spot lest you wish to fall to your knees. You are stone still, wondering if perhaps your presence has been overlooked but no. Even with the god still standing and facing his downed opponent, you know that he has made an account of you being here.
That, and you can’t help the sob that rips through you at seeing your patron god slain beneath the statue that holds his image.
“Took you long enough,” and oh, how you hate that voice right now. The voice that has taunted and teased you in ways unrefined for a god, knowing that you belonged to someone else. To the one that lays in a pool of his own ichor while the instrument of his demise settles in the other’s hand as an extension of his arm. “Got a bit worried there that you wouldn’t show up.”
No he didn’t. He knows that your arrival is instrumental for his plans. An unravelling of shattering emotions that have you in a chokehold. All while he makes his way down the steps, his handsome face twisting into something cruel and indifferential as he blocks your view from the scene he has caused.
“No, you can’t-” and before you can even start moving his hand flies up to grasp your chin, keeping you in place. Fingers digging into mortal flesh enough to bruise, enough to hold you down even though all your instincts tell you to pull away. To move and try to do something, anything, even if it ends up in failure.
There’s nothing you can do for the dead, not when their fate is sealed by a god.
“You know, I can see why he wished me to spare you.”
You feel a sharpness in your chest, jagged lines and missing pieces floating. Drifting. Your hand wrapping around his own as you try to pull him away, and all of a sudden you’re struggling against his hold just as fiercely as you look back at him.
He clicks his tongue, and suddenly you’re floating and unable to breathe. Choked sobs leave your lips as he holds you up, unable to do anything as he is now the one that holds your life by the palm of his hand.
“None of that now. You’re smart enough to know that fighting is a waste of time from both our parts.” He keeps you suspended for a few more seconds before letting go, your body crumbling into a heap of coughs and gasps. Teeth gritting as you look up and there he is, standing before you in all his unrepentant glory.
“Funnily enough, he never did catch on.” Why is he still talking? “And the other gods weren’t foolish enough to get in my way.” Please stop. “They had no reason to. Didn’t really gain anything from coming between me and what is rightfully mine.”
No.
“But see, therein lies the crux of the problem: The Signless.”
Nothing but a body now, crimson eyes unseeing as he stares back at you.
“Admittedly I didn’t think I could pull one from under him, seeing as he is– oh sorry, was– particularly protective of you.”
How cruel.
“As his oracle you hold power. Power in your words, your scriptures, and being able to give life to believers. Something you did exceptionally well, might I add.”
His praise means nothing to you.
“Me taking an interest in you has nothing to do with me hating him but everything to do with hating his ideals.”
…What?
“Would you believe me if I told you that this only took the better part of ten years to plan?”
Premeditated murder.
“Then again, as soon as you moved into his temple your fate was practically sealed.”
This…
“Planting that seed of doubt in his mind about your wellbeing, and in doing so making sure he ends up visiting the temple at any sign of danger.”
…isn’t happening.
“He never thought about another god doing him in, and that ended up working in my favor.”
This isn’t happening.
“And now, here you are. At my feet, with absolute devastation written on your face. Tell me, Kankri-”
This isn’t real. You see him kneel before you but this isn’t real.
“How does it feel to have the one you devoted your life to suddenly be stripped away?”
You feel his hand caress your face, wipe away your tears and hold you gently in a mocking show of care and worry.
“Actually.”
His hand moves lower.
“I can simply look.”
It rests against your chest.
“You don’t mind right?”
The pressure against your chest intensifies, fluctuates and suddenly there’s a glowing pink hand pushing through.
Your mouth opens but no scream comes out. The pain you feel is abstract, invasive, and suddenly your soul is laid bare for everyone to see. For him to see.
“Oh, that’s…you loved him dearly,” and it’s not a question but merely a fact as he handles your soul with such care that it leaves you breathless all of a sudden. “Hm, this will be tricky. Your devotion runs deeper than I thought it would. To sever it completely will render you useless to me.” He smooths out his fingers against something tangible in your chest and the gasp you let out has his rapt attention.
“I would rather not have you become a mindless puppet,” and his fingers move again, twisting in a way that has you letting out such vulgar sounds against your will. “Luckily for you I have prior knowledge and experience in handling tricky souls like your own.”
The amusement in his smile offers no comfort. You do your best to quell the dread settling in your bones.
You notice him move, shifting his weight and carefully pulling his hand out of your chest. The faint glowing of his hand recedes, and you take the opportunity to lunge-
“Ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
He’s suddenly straddling your lap, and you don’t remember how this happened or why you’re suddenly laying flat on the floor. You try to move your arms but they refuse to comply, stuck in their position above your head as the god above you gives you a pointed look.
“...Please…”
Your own voice sounds distant in your ears. A pitiful attempt at begging, so you try again.
“Oh ye merciful god, please-”
“Say it.”
You blink in confusion. “What?”
“My name. Say it.”
Only a second passes.
“...Dirk.”
You feel him roll his hips against you and suddenly it all clicks into place. Your body thrashes against his own, a worthless attempt at getting him off you. A fresh wave of tears fill your eyes and he has the audacity to smile down at you.
“This body of yours is not as tricky to decipher.” You see one of his hands lower and your breath hitches at the sudden pressure between your thighs. Your struggling stutters to a halt, and his smile only sharpens. “There we go. Relax. Let go and maybe enjoy yourself a little, hm?”
His words leave your brain foggy, and you wonder why you started struggling in the first place. A hand finds way towards your chest once more, and as it dips deep into your core you buck into the other hand pressing against your cock. You feel your eyes flutter as a moan leaves your lips, and it’s only when Dirk laughs that you go back to focusing on him.
“That’s it, much better,” and his voice is now right next to your ear, lowering from its usual cadence as hot breath hits your skin. His hand shifts through your robes, between the slip of cloth as he now firmly takes your length and gives it a languid stroke. “I will show you the ways in which your soul will benefit me, and in turn you will show me the ways in which one can love so deeply and indiscriminately.”
Your only response is another moan, and he greedily devours it with a kiss.
His hands move in tandem, a set of fingers working on your soul while the other works you up to the point of an erection. The overstimulation jarring as he brings you to completion after just a few simple strokes.
This, of course, doesn’t deter Dirk. If anything it spurs him on as he continues to stroke you, ignoring the soft whining leaving your lips at the discomfort.
He’s careful in pulling his hand away, even when your hips cant upward and you’re left a needy mess. “For someone who’s never been touched, you desire just as much.” Eyes of molten hue look directly at you as he licks along the side of his hand, taking as much of your essence into his own mouth before leaning over and parting your lips with his tongue.
The kiss lasts long enough to get a better taste of yourself, and when he pulls away you let out a pathetic little noise that has him leaning back down to press his lips against yours.
“Kankri.”
The fingers along your soul suddenly move, and in an instant you’re acutely aware of everything and everywhere all at once.
“My gift to you.”
They dance along the fibers of the soul that keeps you whole, and without warning there’s a pinch and a shift that has you going past the point of no return.
You can’t hear yourself, but know that you’re screaming all the same. Something presses against your lips, and liquid fire flows down your throat with the intensity of a thousand suns.
“A life for a life.”
The fingers dancing on your soul vanish, having done their job. Your heart beats in your head and the comfort of modesty is finally stripped away. Now laid bare before the one that has carefully and meticulously weathered you down to the very essence of your being.
“You will learn to forgive me in due time.”
Something presses against your entrance, slick in the intrusion but nonetheless eliciting a drawn out groan from you as it starts to thrust and move.
“It’s better this way.”
You open your eyes. When did you close them? You open your mouth to say something, anything, but all you do is moan as another finger presses against you. Pushing through the ring of muscle before joining the other as they spread you open.
“If only you could see yourself right now.”
There’s a third finger, and together they press against a certain spot that has you seeing stars.
“Oh, Kankri…”
They’re gone as soon as they appear, and the loss is palpable enough for you to call out Dirk’s name. A trembling hand reaching out, and the relief you feel when he curls his fingers around yours.
(When did he release you?)
“If only he could see you now.”
Something else presses against you now. Something more solid. You hear yourself gasp sharply as Dirk starts to push in, and your hand grips him tightly when he’s fully inside you.
Your body moves against his own with every roll of his hips. Every thrust drawing out moan after moan of his name from your lips, and not once does Dirk look away from you. He’s seen your soul, taken your body, and nothing is left hidden from him now.
He hikes your legs up and you wrap them around him. Bringing him closer, deeper. Hands now reaching up and running through his hair as you’re the one to finally pull him in for a kiss. Gasping out his name against feverish lips, you take all of him just as he’s done the same to you.
A promise soaked in spilled blood.
You come undone without him even touching you, crying out his name as he continues to move against you. Finding his own release not long after but never letting go. Only pulling out when he’s satisfied, but you know it’s only a fleeting moment. He will never be satisfied, and you find it in yourself to be okay with this.
“I love you.”
You feel the smile against your neck, and his arms wrap around you. There’s a buzzing in the forefront of your mind, but Dirk’s presence is enough to quell it.
You set your grief aside, and your soul feels lighter for it.