This idea was going to haunt me if I couldn’t get it out of my head so have this. I will probably write a full fic on this at some point.
you’re a keeper of the God of Night’s temple
the most diligent of all the keepers, you keep the temple in perfect condition, you pray to your god regularly
and your devotion does not go unnoticed
one night, in the middle of your prayers, Night appears
he praises you for your devotion and commitment
he offers you a reward and you try to deny it, try to tell him a mortal such as yourself could never be worthy of a gift from a divine
you’re not sure what you’re expecting but it’s definitely not for him to pull a goblet from thin air and cut his palm
Night lets his blood, his ichor, drip into the cup before handing it to you
you don’t question him, your trust is unwavering
it tastes like nothing you’ve ever had before
actually, it’s less of a taste and more of a feeling
like a small piece of divinity, like every nerve ending is singing
after that, he visits you regularly, praising you for your devotion and rewarding you with more ichor
“My keeper, my star in the darkness, let me offer you a taste of more than you could ever know”
you dream of him in ways you know you shouldn’t
waking with the memory of his ichor on your tongue
he appears in the temple as usual
but this time he asks you to fall to your knees
there’s no goblet now, he cuts his palm and holds it out to you
you take his hand carefully, reverently
press your lips to his fingertips, his knuckles
before latching onto the cut, lapping at it like you can do nothing else
and he just watches you, petting your hair and whispering words of praise and encouragement
when you pull away, golden ichor painted across your lips, he finally gives in to what he’s been trying to deny himself
Night bends you over the altar
lets you taste more of his ichor as he fucks you
“Oh my star, say my name, let the heavens hear who you belong to”
