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    Summary

    The chapel is empty. The cold stone remembers every prayer ever offered. Fenrir kneels anyway.

    Deimos does not promise love. He promises certainty — a faith that responds, a god who notices devotion and rewards it accordingly. Under careful instruction and quiet authority, devotion becomes habit, and habit becomes belief.

    Fenrir thinks this is what it means to be chosen. He does not yet know that chosen things are rarely allowed to leave.

    𝙤𝙧:

    Their arrangement had been going on for months now. Fenrir didn't know what to call it. Fuck buddies felt too casual, too mutual.

    Because what they had wasn't mutual. It was worship, really — Fenrir on his knees, offering everything he had, while Deimos decided whether to bless him with tenderness or punish him with cruelty.

    Four times a week, like clockwork. Like religious observance.

    Fenrir tells himself it must mean something. That devotion this consistent has to be rewarded.
    But gods don’t reward — they claim. And when Deimos comes to him on Christmas Eve, Fenrir learns what it truly means to be seen, chosen, and kept.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    13,606
    Chapters:
    3/3
    Comments:
    18
    Kudos:
    13
    Hits:
    158