#☾.dearest deity

[idyllcy]

gentle are the hands that hold you

word count: 6.1k || banner art by @chesue00

summary: the mind may forget, but the soul will not

Leon has a set routine that he has grown used to. He wakes up, and he prepares fruit from the garden for the small temple his family has passed down to him, four peaches placed at the altar before he goes back to prepare his own breakfast. When he cooks, the sun early in the sky, and the morning dew is still present. He's certain that the sound of animals is the sound of the peaches getting eaten, and when he cleans up his plate and looks for that of the temple, the fruits are gone, including the pits, and the herbs around the altar have returned to their natural health.

He cuts three of them — one of each color.

His family has passed down the art of worshipping a forgotten deity— one whose marble statue has chipped and grown covered in vines. The marble carvings of the title of the deity only retain the words "health" and "herb", and the herbs that can be used for illness grow around the altar and are seldom cut. Leon learned it from a long time ago as a child, and he never stopped. Some might consider the routine to be a nuisance, but Leon enjoys the routine, singing hymns in the temple at noon, brushing out the lion's mane on the god's head after his singing, tending and snipping the herbs that grow beautifully around the marble, blue eyes stuck to the beauty of the forgotten god that only his family tended to, relishing in the statue's beauty.

How lonely they must be.

At sunset, he lights the four candles at the foot of the statue by the altar, lowering himself onto his knees, whispering a prayer passed down for centuries in his house, eyes closed and heart still as he chants. The words are to come from the heart, he recalls. So, he reads them

Typically, he finishes the prayer and the four candles go out on their own.

This time, however, he finishes and the candles stay lit.

He wonders if he should try again to pray, but as he opens his mouth to start again, two snakes slither from both sides, curling up the body of the statue as a comet passes in the sky, and Leon is startled to the ground. He falls backward, watching as a glow of gold erupts from the statue as the snakes turn into the same marble, and the altar cracks, tablet of the title in the front sliding down as a shadow is revealed.

The body.

A body.

Someone opens their eyes from the inside of the altar.

You open your eyes from the inside of the altar.

"Where... am I?"

Leon would recognize that face anywhere, and at that moment, all he can do is thank the skies above for what he is about to be graced with.

"Oh, sweet heavens of health." He whispers. "Do forgive this mere human for what he is about to do."

He takes a step closer, offering his hand to you, his veil sliding down his hair.

"Welcome to earth, dearest deity. This mere worshipper greets you."

You blink down at Leon slowly, tilting your head.

"The heavens greet you, kind mortal. Pray tell, what you wished to receive from a minor god of healing?"

"Nothing." He breathes.

God, if he could keep worshipping you for the rest of his life, then he would be fine.

"Nothing at all, dearest deity."

You blink at him slowly once more, looking around the temple as you stare at the herbs. Leon notices the otherwordly glow that seems to emit from your body, and the color never seems to leave your skin. You glow the same shade as your complexion, crown of yellow on your head as you observe your surroundings, staring at Leon.

Leon does not know what you think. He can not know. How could he? He was not more than a mere worshipper who was taught to care for you eternally. Eternally to be your servant, never to dream of meeting you. You, who seemed to appear out of nowhere and cry gold and green, skin naked to the eye and touch. Touching you is out of the question, yet he holds his hand out to you. You seem to lack a reaction, still taking in your surroundings as Leon breathes. Breathing heavily. Heavy is his chest as he stares at you — it feels like a violation to be able to see you so up close.

"If I may?" He offers.

You take his hand, and Leon's heart lunges into his throat at your touch.

"Thank you."

Your voice flutters along with the wind as he pulls you out of the altar, and you stare around at the opened scenery.

"My temple has deteriorated."

"Yes." Leon whispers. "It is only my family left, you see."

"The blood of the temple's knights." You mumble. "I am grateful that your blood has stayed. I do not know what I would do had you not."

Leon nods slowly. "Do you... wish to do something?"

You glance at the garden that Leon tends to and the produce, blinking ever so slowly as you smile.

"Will you teach me to tend to the plants?"

"Do you wish for it?"

"I miss my roots." You blink slowly. "The plants miss me. My mortal body has lost itself."

"Then, if I may, I shall tend to them with you again?" Leon tilts his head.

You blink at him, staring into his eyes, past his soul and straight to his heart as he holds his breath. You tilt your head, and your eyes gloss over with a distant look, almost as though you were reminiscing of something. Instead, you nod slowly, blinking as you nod, eyes clearing up as you nod again. This time, you seem sure of it.

"Thank you."

"The pleasure is all mine." Leon mumbles.

Goodness, you're not good for the heart.

You let Leon guide you, his questions lingering in the air when you ask him of everything, needing to be guided and taught how to take care of certain things, and Leon wonders if he could truly do a good job. To worship you, he finds, is to treat you as glass is. When you ask him what to do, he tells you. You are clueless of certain things yet you know much more than he does. He does not understand this dynamic that he has gotten himself into. Teaching a god how to listen to human responses, how works work, and how gardening does.

When the sun rises in the morning, he places a singular peach onto the altar for the wildlife, and he offers you a peach that you have grown used to eating. You thank him with a slow nod, biting into it as he makes a breakfast in a larger than usual portion. He offers you an egg from his pan, but you shake your head, content with the peach in your hands. The juice sticks to your hands as you bite into it, and the fruit gets all over your chin, but you are happy, and even as Leon watches you eat, nearly missing his mouth with the fork, you seem content. Leon finishes his food only after you stare at the peach core left in your hand.

"Will this grow into a tree?"

"It will take a handful of years, but yes." He hums. "We can plant it with the rest of the peach trees in the garden."

You nod slowly.

"I shall go change. Please make yourself comfortable while I do, dearest deity."

You nod, looking around at the wildlife from the window, climbing out as your feet land in the grass, much more comfortable to you. The snakes in the garden slither around your calves, sitting there as you continue walking through the garden to find your temple, the medicinal herbs surrounding the altar looking dimmer than usual as you press your hand to them, the same golden glow restoring the herbs to their colors. You would have to bring a second peach to the altar in the morning from the trees.

"Will you be alright in these clothes?" Leon's changed into something easier to move in, finding you as you stare at the fallen tablet from the night before.

"It will be fine." You smooth your hand over the marble, blinking slowly as you frown. "Do you know what words were once written here?"

"I am afraid not." Leon's heart races in his chest, and you sigh.

"I have lost part of me." You glance at the eroded stone on certain words.

"If I may, I shall help you find it once more."

Leon teaches you the ropes of managing the farm, showing you the equipment and what meant fresh and not fresh. The herbs, you are familiar with, stopping Leon from pulling the rosemary because it was not at its prime, and nodding when Leon shows you how to ripen tomatoes despite them being orange. He shows you how to hide the strawberries from the birds and the indications that the blackberries were ready for harvest. The olive trees are shown to you with the peaches, and you snack on one as Leon hands you another.

In the afternoon, he shows you how to harvest the wheat and store the grain, showing you how to bake bread as you grind the grain into flour with Leon, pushing the till as you heave, falling to your knees once you have made enough for the bread of that night. You lay on the dirty stone for a minute, groaning as Leon packages the flour, holding a hand out for you as you gasp. You hold your hand up for a minute, catching your breath as you take it to get up.

"Do gods not labor?"

"What is there to labor over when the worshippers send you food?"

"Do gods disappear once they are forgotten?"

"Yes." You dust off your clothes, humming. "I have only lived this long because of the care of your blood."

You help Leon season, not much help when it comes to cooking or preparing dishes, and Leon tries to have you keep your hands off of the majority of things, only letting you tend to the herbs and spices, the olives prepared with the oil as you dip the bread in it to try it. You have not much of a reaction, sitting down at the table as Leon serves you the salad, a smaller fish prepared for him.

You settle with the salad, another peach given to you for dessert, biting on it as Leon washes up, cleaning and drying the silver with a rag as you stare at the peach in hand. The green is a little jarring, and you appreciate that Leon picks the riper ones for your temple. Yet, when you bite down, it's sweet, nectar staining your chin as Leon disposes of the peach peels, offering you a cup of water alongside some honey.

You accept it, thanking him with a nod as you go back to the peach, hands stained with sugar.

"Dearest deity." Leon starts. "If I may?"

"Feel free to." You nod, licking your fingers.

"Do you know why you have returned to being human?"

"I'm not quite sure." You look out past the windows, eyes distant.

Leon wonders if he's struck a nerve, but he doesn't have much time to think over it.

For the first time, Leon dreams and remembers.

He's in a field of grass, your head in his lap, closed eyes and blissed smile on your face as he runs his hands through your hair. He's bigger than he is in reality, lion's skin on his head, his fingers rough from what he assumes to be the blade. He pushes your hair out of your face, blinking down at you slowly. The green of the grass creases under your body, and Leon thinks there is a strange sense of domesticity with the way that you trust him so much.

His mouth moves on its own. "Dearest, are you not uncomfortable?"

"Surely not while in your lap." You peek up at him, smile on your face as you beam. "You are comfortable, beloved."

The daffodils in the field are pulled, Leon's fingers clumsy with the stems as he tries to make you a crown, weaving in the green into the braid as you let the breeze tickle your nose. He feels his hands are rough from some sort of labor, and his body feels weary. Yet, there is a fullness in his chest as he finishes the crown, placing it on your head as you open an eye to stare up at him.

"How do I look?"

"Dazzling, darling." He hums, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. "You look dazzling."

Leon wakes from the dream in his bed, sitting up and gasping as one does, and he stares at the rising sun and the calling rooster. He rests his head in his palms, groaning at the way his heart refuses to slow down. He hears the sound of the door opening in the back, and he assumes that you've gone off to the well to wash up for the day. He assumes it's a routine for you much like the four peaches he places at the altar, so he gets up, bed covers kicked off as he makes his bed. The peaches have ripened after being left out for the night, and he takes the basket with him, offering you one on the way before taking the other three.

You bite on the peach and follow him to the altar, watching as he leaves the basket. You stare at the peach in your hand and place it back into the basket, teeth marks visible in the one you had placed there, but Leon doesn't mention anything.

Then comes breakfast, eggs for him, an assortment of fruit for you.

Despite your lack of diet, it seems you do not complain. Perhaps your body abides by different rules when compared to his.

He ponders over the idea of insanity when he turns red from eye contact alone. Truly, you are dazzling, and unfortunately, Leon is not immune to such beauty despite staring at your statue each morning. Heavens, he's screwed.

"Is there anything you need, dearest deity?" He offers.

"Not much." You hum. "Do we have other fruit?"

"There is an orchard in the east." Leon hums. "Would you like more fruit?"

You nod.

The orchard is due for some tending. Leon only ever went for olives to have in his meals and peaches for offerings, so it wasn't surprising that the figs were eaten from the inside out alongside the apples and pears. You offer to help, palms held out as you argue that you could technically restore them to their prime. Leon has you rest, pulling out the figs and bad fruit into one basket, tossing the good ones to another.

"Are there any fruits you'd rather not eat?"

You ponder over his words, shaking your head.

Leon finds you familiar. You sit at the corner of the orchard, trailing after him with a basket of your own fruit, and he finds it familiar. You yourself are familiar to him. He has no memory of you, but he can not argue that it is because he has never met you either. He no longer remembers the faces of his own parents. All he knows is the ritual of worship, the routine of faith that he has grown used to. All he remembers about himself is that, now that he thinks about it.

The rest of the night passes in a blur, and Leon has not much of a choice when it comes to resting at night.

When he closes his eyes, he's unsurprised at what he is met with.

It's another dream.

A lion's robe is still on Leon's body this time, and he feels significantly bigger than he is in present. His heart does not beat as harshly as it does in reality, and with each step he takes, he becomes increasingly aware that he is taller than he is in reality. The garden of his home is replaced with a marble home of his own, and he walks through the ruins that have been replaced with a garden in present day. His steps are heavy as he stops in front of the temple, watching as there's a golden hue from the altar — noticeably larger than the one in present.

Leon steps behind you, eyes glued to the words on the tablet that is now restored, frowning.

god of health, herb, home. the lion's beloved

"Are you returning?"

Leon cannot control his mouth, but he stares at the way you tense at his voice.

"My time on earth is short." You turn around to face him, voice quiet as you close your eyes.

Leon's heart rattles in his chest from the way you refuse to look at him. "Can you stay longer?"

"Beloved" You whisper. "I ca—"

"Will you stay longer?" He whispers, voice shaking as he asks. His heart races at being called beloved, but his chest contorts painfully as the man whose body he resides in.

"I cannot." You open your eyes, heart shattering in your ears as you catch his tears. "Oh, beloved, please do not—"

Leon wants to stay, but he watches as the man turns his back, stepping away from the altar as the sound of bells chime to indicate your disappearance.

Instead, when he turns around again, all that remains is a shrunken altar and the temple from the modern day. Leon has what he was holding prior to entering into the past — three peaches in a small basket. You are still behind him, white of your eyes the only visible part of them as your irises cloud over and Leon stares at you. A flash from the past for him, a flash from your life for you. He wonders just who that might have been.

He looks around, catching the fact that you are behind him.

When you return, you stare into nothing, pupils wide as the black of your eyes engulf the entirety of the color of your eye, and Leon stands there, unsure of what to do, blinking slowly as you close your eyes and open them again and again. You blink again, and again, and again, and again. You try to break yourself from the trance— from what Leon can tell.

"Dearest deity." Leon whispers. "Are you alright?"

You blink at Leon again, exhaling as you grimace.

"I will be. Let us drop off the fruit for my herbs first." You take the basket from him, fruit placed on the altar as you bless the peaches.

"How does it work?"

"They live off of the water and juice." You squeeze the fruit, Leon watching as the liquid trickles down your fist onto the plants, the red herbs brightening up nearly immediately. The yellow follows, and the green last. You take the scissors to cut three of the herbs, two of each herb, juice-stained fingers sticking to the plants as you place them into the basket.

Leon nods as you hand him the herbs, thanking you.

Food is simple today. It is typically a loaf and some legumes, occasionally fish if the two of you decide to head out to fish at the lake. Leon has grown used to a life like this, and you make do without eating fish, so Leon goes out less and less, growing legumes with you as you learn from him, forming an appetite for fruit as well, snacking on blackberries as he picks at the strawberries that he hides from the birds. You bite down on certain ones, slipping a piece past Leon's lips as he places a cucumber in your basket, thanking you quietly as he checks out the lettuce.

"What do you want for dinner?"

You glance at the lettuce and the berries, tilting your head.

"...salad?"

"Fruit salad? I should retrieve some olives as well, then." Leon holds his hand out for the basket, and you give him your hand instead.

Leon does a double take, blinking at your hand and then at you, and you offer him a shy smile.

"If this is alright?"

"More than alright, dearest deity." Leon smiles. "I am honored you would initiate it."

Leon finds that you are much more affectionate now that time has passed. He does not keep track of the days, time something he no longer holds, sharing dishes and bites with you when he can, showing you the rest of the garden that he leaves to tend on its own. Leon understands something. Whoever he is in his dreams, you left. Whoever you are in the dream, you did not wish to leave. He understands not much from it. The heart of whose body he was in his dreams was scarred when you left.

It hurt him to think about it, so he busies himself with the sand between his toes.

"We had a beach?"

"We have a sea." Leon stares out at the horizon. "I wonder if the lobsters are ready for harvest."

"You can eat those?"

Leon nods slowly, laughing as you furrow your brows.

"How does... that work." You pause. "You crack the head?"

"You pop the head off, and you pull out the meat from the whole tail."

You blink twice.

"May I... watch you prepare it?"

"With pleasure." He smiles. "Shall we go catch one?"

You watch Leon ditch the top, skin out for the world to see, and Leon feels a little embarrassed being so bare before you, but you don't seem to mind, watching as he takes a trident.

"You pierce them?"

"They don't move as fast. Perhaps I have grown used to the water."

The blue of the ocean is pretty. Leon still isn't over the beauty of it, and it always surprises him when he dives for crustaceans, trident heavy against his arm as he pierces through the shells, three tucked into the bag net he carries, paddling back to the surface as he wonders how he had been able to hold his breath for so long. The question fades just as quickly, eyes meeting yours as you blink, doe-eyed, eyes wide as you seem to drink in every part of his skin.

"Dearest deity?"

"Apologies." You hide your face, sinking into the ground with embarassment as Leon laughs, letting the net fall into the sand as he crouches in front of you, hair pushed back, saltwater still dripping from his hair and skin. He watches as your eyes dart to his chest and then abdomen, thoughts written all over your face as you hide again.

"I shall dress again."

"There's no need." You manage, still hiding your face. "I... prefer the way you are."

Leon feels an arrow pierce his heart, ears ringing as he processes what you've just said. He's sure he's turned red like the tomatoes once ripe, and he hides his face in his knees, shaking slightly as he processes your bluntness. Dare he say it, he liked it.

Though, it would be his grace if you were to fall for him. It was only a given that he would worship you.

He doesn't feel as though he is in a position where he could truly get to profess his love to you first.

At night, you request of him to tuck you into bed, pout on your lips as he sits by your bed, letting you squeeze his hand with a gentle grab, watching as you drift off to sleep.

He wonders if you need sleep truly — considering you are a deity and all.

Though, Leon does.

The third time Leon dreams, he is no longer in a lion's skin.

He feels younger, white on his body, blue brooch around his neck and blouse on his skin. There is a veil on his head, and it seems as though he is in the temple of yours once more. He does not understand this quite that much. It seems as though he is being offered up for some kind of ritual. It is some sort of marriage, he assumes. Blue eyes and golden hair, cerulean brooch and white blouse, ruffled bow and laced veil, Leon truly feels that he is being offered up as a groom rather than a servant. He wonders if the person he has possessed is aware of it.

His body moves on its own, veil over his head shifting as he looks down, standing before what he assumes as the head priest. The priest places a crown of... herbs on his head, and he is placed on the altar, some sort of glow occurring around him as he forces his eyes open. The veil sticks to his head as he notices the priest and all their followers are gone when he opens his eyes. Instead, he catches a glance of you above him, head tilted as you blink down at him.

"You're quite young, sacrifice." You grin, teeth visible. "What might your name be?"

Nevermind the fact that Leon's heart is racing a thousand pes an hour, his heart is about to leap out of his chest. Yet, Leon is curious of the man's name, but he finds it surprising that he chokes out his own name.

"Leon, dearest deity." He whispers. "I am your... groom."

"How rare that they would send a groom rather than a servant." You tilt your head at him. "Well, do make yourself at home. We've got plenty of plants and fruit."

Leon steps down from the altar, stepping on a piece of marble before taking a tumble, the tablet breaking under his foot as he blinks.

"I'm sorry." He gapes.

You raise a brow, mumbling to yourself as you tap your chin.

"Oh, dear." You laugh. "I'll restore it sometime. Please take care of the garden while I do."

Leon's dream is far longer than he is comfortable. He wonders how much time has passed in reality in the dream, and he learns to take care of the garden that resembles the one he tends to each night. There is a lake in the back where he fishes, and he learns to cook meals for the two of you, typically baking bread and making soup. He learns that you prefer the best harvest of peaches, but you share them with him, teaching him how to make crisp and how to cook the oats until they are crispy. You adore peaches with or without honey and spices. It is why the peach tree was so large in the orchard.

During the time, he learns that gods do in fact visit the earth outside of their domains. You return in time for dinner every single day, and you tell him of what has happened recently with the temple over his meals. He likes this life. At one point, the worshippers send him the very lion skin he wore in his previous dream. The connection between your domain and reality is created through prayer. Not faithfulness, number.

You complete a number of miracles, and in return, your worshippers increase in number, which, in turn, grants you access back home.

When Leon wakes, his heart is racing in his chest for no reason, blinking at the knife in hand and cutting board on the counter and then at the tomatoes.

"Kind mortal?"

"My apologies." Leon sighs, going back to cutting the veggies. "It seems I had gotten lost in myself."

Not reality. Leon is not in reality. Instead, he has been stuck in an endless cycle of immortality, and without you around, the age had worn him down until all he remembered was to worship you. If your temple was run down in your domain, he can not imagine how ruined your temple in reality was. Leon has become immortal from partaking of the food of the gods. The peaches he offered to the gods was for you, and the herbs he cut was granting him immortality in return.

Leon Kennedy had lived for so long that he forgot this was not his home, it was yours.

The immortality from the herbs had been eating his mind from the inside out.

He wonders if you remember, but he doesn't ask.

Instead, he asks you if you would like to go fishing with him, fishing rod in hand.

You tilt your head at the rod, nodding as he takes everything. The pond spawns all sorts of fish, now that he thinks about it. The expensive fish he used to dream of owning back when he was in reality, the fish that he had when his family had a nice harvest, just about everything. It feels strange to remember that this is your home and not his, but he doesn't dwell too much on it. Instead, he sits at the dock, holding out the fishing rod as you sit next to him, basket of strawberries in your lap as you eat them.

"Do you eat fish?" The answer is no, yet Leon finds himself asking anyway.

"No." You hum. "I can live off of produce."

You take a bite of the strawberries almost as if to make a point, pointing at the fishing line with a kick of your legs as Leon reels in the fish, pulling it out of the water with a ceremonious thud.

"Good job." You hum. "I didn't know we had catfish."

Leon raises a brow at you. "What else do we have?"

You shrug. "I don't know much. My followers only ever send me peaches now. Not that I do not appreciate it."

Leon finds it strange that there happens to be both a lake and an ocean, the two connected by a small river, a waterfall that collapses into the ocean, and the sea leads into nothing. It seems that you knew, but you never mentioned it in any way. If this domain was yours, then he found it intriguing that you had been offered enough fish that there would form an ocean. The offerings given seem to not expire, and the ecosystem seems to reproduce and go on as it would in reality.

He wonders if reality is the right word to describe his world, though. Perhaps earth would have made for a better word. He wonders what is happening on earth. Maybe this was some sort of Mount Olympus... or whatnot. He doubts it is. He would have recognized living on an actual mountain.

Well, at the very least, fishing is quite fun.

When he pulls in the second catch of the day, he decides that it's enough.

"What do you want for dinner?"

Leon wonders if he should try making pie in one of the vessels.

You tap your chin. "Something baked sounds good."

"Oh, I'm sure it does." Leon mumbles. "Pie?"

You nod. "Shall I help?"

He shakes his head.

The more Leon thinks of it, the more he realizes that he's always been making portions for two. It was embedded into his soul. When he had leftovers, it was much easier to feed it to the poultry in the back and the pigs. Now, that second portion had a reason. He had always found it bizzare. It was because he used to cook with his mother for his father, not the fact that he had been cooking for the two of you for such a long time.

When Leon sends you to bed at night, he watches you for a few moments longer, wondering if this was something he had done in the past.

He does not dream this time.

So, when he wakes in the morning and you have a pear in hand with a knife in the other, he blinks at you.

"Dearest?"

"Teach me how to cut fruit?"

Leon wonders if you were the one to teach him first, but the more he thinks back on the dream, the more he wonders just whether or not you had been eating in the time that you lacked a sacrifice. Would sacrifice be the correct word? The more he considers it, the more he thinks of himself as a gift from the priest rather than a sacrifice. Is that egoistical? Perhaps it is. It is more of a blessing on his end to be able to stay with you for so long. The herbs he had each morning must have been keeping him nice and healthy despite his time in your realm.

He may have forgotten, but it seems that his body had remembered.

He teaches you how to hold the knife, cut by cut showing you how to peel the fruit, and you decide that peeling half of it and then eating the other half after spitting out the core was the better decision. He finds that that ties into what he remembers about you as well.

It seems he remembers now.

Leon understands that you expect a singular peach and then three more at the altar, but he does not do so this fateful day. There is something he must check, and someone he must attempt to understand. There was no way you did not know. You were not as foolish as to not. It had been in the way you looked at him. He knew, from the very beginning. You knew perhaps, as well, that when you had opened your eyes from the inside of the altar, you had been observing him and not your surroundings.

You had been observing your lover who had forgotten you, not the home you resided in.

"You are home, dearest deity." Leon offers. "You need not the peaches anymore."

You blink at Leon, hesitation bleeding through you as you pause to breathe.

"Since when have you recalled?"

"A while back." Leon mumbles. "I was not certain if you wished for me to bring it up."

You blink at Leon, sitting yourself back on the altar, the lack of glowing visible now that everyone has forgotten about you. You will no longer be able to return to the world that you had left to. You would be stuck tending to the garden that you had started long before Leon joined you here. At the very least, he would be able to stay forever with you, only needing to tend to the herbs and grow them. Yet, he wonders where all of the maidens you had been offered so long ago ended up.

You stare at the broken tablet, laughing embarrassingly as you smile at Leon.

"Truly reminds you the first time we met, huh?"

"Yes." He rests the empty basket on the altar, taking it from your hand as he smooths the rusted words over. "God of health, herbs, home."

"The lion's beloved." You whisper back. "I missed you."

"I know." He mumbles, setting it to the side as he lets you sob into his chest.

"I missed you." You gasp. "You... you forgot me. I expected it, but I had been in the fabric between reality and my realm that I was sure you would stop building my way home, but you remembered the prayers. You recalled the words you had grown used to prior to your sacrifice, and I... you found my way home."

"I'm sorry, dearest." He whispers. "I had forgotten. I have been around for far too long. I am sorry I had forgotten to welcome you home."

There is a certain beauty that comes with remembering, Leon finds. In the centuries that he had forgotten all about you, his heart had somehow remembered, adorning you in the lion's mane until he forgot it was his first, singing hymns he knew you cherished from the time he had spent with you, leaving you peaches because you had always shared the best harvest of them with him, sneaking in that you adored the taste of the nectar on your tongue. His mind had forgotten, but his heart had not, burying you into the depths of his consciousness until he would remember you again one day.

His hands have grown rough with a different kind of labor over the years, and he has lost much of the large muscle he had arrived with from his way of living, but the feeling of your skin is still familiar to his touch.

Right.

His mind could forget, but his soul could never.

"You're making me a crisp later." You huff.

"Of course." He laughs. "Anything else?"

"And I want a kiss for all the years you forgot about me for."

"That can be made up with the life ahead."

And to seal the promise, Leon kisses you, hands gentle on your skin, clarity restored.

[bonemarrowrites]

Druidic Intentions

Contains: F / M, Cis x Trans, Half-elf x Nature deity, Submission, Bondage, Tendrils, Gentle sex

Scroll to this ╭ᑎ╮  mark to skip the story parts.

Short explicit fantasy story. Half-elf woman seeks the help of a nature deity to master her craft.

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I took in the earthy forest air as the needle-covered path before me felt longer than before. I had traveled for hours and the humidity had drenched my clothes, but I was determined to find what I was looking for. Besides, as I admired the green view revealing itself in front of me, what other choice did I have than to be filled with energy?

Even though the deadly Blooming Sea was approaching these woods fast, it was filled with life and different echoing sounds. The leaves swished gently in the wind as the birds and critters of various sizes traveled through the branches older than the destructive flood pouring towards it. Here, one could easily forget how those who ruled were either consumed by greed or sending soldiers to fight wars which meant little in the face of certain destruction of the Blooming Sea. Had I been able to, I would have stayed here, listening to the little stream flowing next to me until the spreading blossoming absorbed it and me, but instead of letting the apathy take me over, I wanted to save what was in front of me and if I could not save it, I’d make sure stop the very thing that had destroyed it.

Small sun wyverns flew over me as I made my way deeper into the forest. To reach my goal I would need a lot more magic than what I now held and I knew just where to find it. Deep within the forest, there lived a man who had killed for his powers and taken his place as the rightful heir to the ancient nature god he had slaughtered a long time ago. Learning from him might give me a chance to save what I hold dearest in my heart and the whole world in the process and even if he wouldn’t grant me his knowledge willingly, I would take it by force if necessary.

Yet, even though I had a plan and I believed in it. It all felt futile at the same time.

The deeper I marched, the higher the trees got and the faint glow of the sunlight barely reached the forest floor. When I permitted myself to rest against an old tree it was already noon and I still had a long way to go.

Not much was known about the man I was looking for, but according to folktales he had once been a mortal human, a hero who was led astray because of his greed for greater power. He had slain and murdered to reach his goal and once he did, he had been so ashamed by what he had done that he retreated to this very forest, never to be seen by any living soul ever again. Due to this, the forest thrived, letting in only those who did not seek to harm it, which had come pretty clear to me when I entered it and saw the long dead bodies hanging in the thorn bushes at the edge of the forest.

I let my mind wander off as I untied my lilac braids and brushed my hair with my fingers before tidying it back up. I cupped some fresh river water into my hands, washed my face, and took small sips. The sunlight which managed to get past the trees hit the water and I could see the shiny scales of the fish lazily swimming in it, not afraid of my presence as I got up and followed the sensation of immense magic coming from deeper from the woods to lead me further in.

Somewhere far above me, the clouds turned into warm colors of the evening sky as I found what I was looking for, or at least the source of it. In the middle of the forest, there was a clearing filled with long, tooth-like rocks coming somewhere deep within the ground. The proudly standing white rocks were covered with lichen, yet nothing grew in the pitch-black ground around them. As I boldly stepped towards them, I realized the rocks were actually teeth, no doubt left by the ancient god the man had killed. In the middle of it, there was a small pond, filled with glowing milky water. The rocks beneath my boots rang like small bells as I walked to the pond.

“God-killer! I’m here to seek your audience!” I yelled, trying to sound as calm as I could, even though I would be lying if I said I hadn’t been spooked by the view. Yet, the clearing was eerily silent, no animals lived here and even the small gusts of wind felt muted. There was only the sound of the rocks.

The coming night lifted the water under the rocks and pond and settled into a mist, hanging just above my thighs. Everything in the shadows was painted with blue and purple hues as the sky above me turned orange. Small faery lights rose from the ground and lit the surrounding vapor creepily with their pale glow.

“I know you’re in here! I can feel your power!” I shouted, some part of me hoping not to get an answer.

ꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꈤꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪꉣꂦꀎꈤꈤꍟꌗꌗꀤꍏꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀎꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꈤꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪꉣꂦ

“𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚔 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙.”

ꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꈤꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪꉣꂦꀎꈤꈤꍟꌗꌗꀤꍏꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀎꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꈤꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪꉣꂦ

A frightening sound echoed around me, bouncing from the teeth so I couldn’t locate its source. It was far older than what I had expected, yet still familiar like I had known it before. I spun around, letting the rock sing as I tried to see him.

“If you know what I seek, then you know I won’t be leaving without it!” I asserted, “I need your knowledge and powers to defeat the Blooming Sea, to save this forest and others like it!”

ꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꈤꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪꉣꂦꀎꈤꈤꍟꌗꌗꀤꍏꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀎꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꈤꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪꉣꂦ

“𝙽𝚘 𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚍𝚘𝚖 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎, 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚏-𝚎𝚕𝚏. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚞𝚗.”

ꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꈤꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪꉣꂦꀎꈤꈤꍟꌗꌗꀤꍏꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀎꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꈤꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪꉣꂦ

The disembodied voice answered coldly.

“There is no sense in running, the Blooming Sea will swallow the whole world, if we don’t stop it,” I said, thinking how the man had to know it was going to spread everywhere even if I might die before it reached the last corners of the map.

“You killed the last nature deity on this continent and you have its powers, the Blooming Sea is nothing but a field of flowers, you have to know how it can be stopped!” Anger grew within me as I yelled at the invisible god somewhere nearby.

ꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꈤꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪꉣꂦꀎꈤꈤꍟꌗꌗꀤꍏꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀎꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꈤꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪꉣꂦ

“𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎, 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕. 𝚁𝚎𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝..”ꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꈤꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪꉣꂦꀎꈤꈤꍟꌗꌗꀤꍏꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀎꀤꍏꂵ

I huffed in anger, now only hearing the pathetic pleas of a once powerful man in my ears. “If you’re not going to do anything, then give me your powers so I can change the fate of this world! Let me prove I’m worthy of them!” I yelled back.

An eerie silence filled the clearing once again. The being was pondering what it should do. During our arguing the sun had set and the shining stars had covered the sky. The air around me was a lot colder and darker, but I still tried to find my opponent. One of the flowing faery lights brushed against my pale skin and the tingling sensation of the touch made me whelp.

The voice surrounding me let out a laugh.

ꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꈤꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪꉣꂦꀎꈤꈤꍟꌗꌗꀤꍏꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀎꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪꉣꂦꀎ

“𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?”

ꈤꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪꉣꂦꈤꈤꍟꌗꌗꀤꂦꀎꈤꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪꉣꂦꈤꈤꍟꌗꌗꀤꂦꀎꃅꋪꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪꉣꂦꀎ

It asked with an echoing cackle.

“You’ve wallowed here in self-imposed isolation for decades,” I said, “You don’t know what has happened in the world after you abandoned it.”

ꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꈤꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪꉣꂦꀎꈤꈤꍟꌗꌗꀤꍏꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀎꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪꉣꂦꀎ

“𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎, 𝙸 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚢𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚜, 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚎𝚕𝚏.”ꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꈤꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪꉣꂦꀎꈤꈤꍟꌗꌗꀤꍏꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀎꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟ ꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꈤꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪꉣꂦꀎꈤ

“Then I offer you my companionship, you were once human and you must have some still within you,” I answered his mocking with a stern voice and stepped towards the pond, “If you’re so keen on letting yourself die here, then let it at least be with a memory of a warm loving companion.”

All of a sudden I could feel something grabbing me by the ankle and when I looked down, there was a bluish tendril around it, with one swift move it lifted me up and I was hanging upside down. I yelped as the plant around my ankle held tightly with its leaves to it. My eyes followed the stalk into the darkness, where I saw more of its kind pour out, wriggling in the ground towards me, making the rock sing again.

From the same darkness, I saw an emerging large human-like shape that was twice my size. The stars revealed the half-human form to be made from surrounding nature, skin replaced by dark bark, hands like stony claws and back covered by large pieces of white lichen and dark green moss. It had two brightly glowing eyes as it treaded towards me.

ꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꈤꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪꉣꂦꀎꈤꈤꍟꌗꌗꀤꍏꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀎꀤꍏꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꈤꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪ

“𝙸𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎, 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚏? 𝙳𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚝𝚑?” ꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꈤꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪꉣꂦꀎꈤꈤꍟꌗꌗꀤꍏꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀎꀤꍏꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꈤꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟ

His voice was still coming from around us as he spoke. I looked directly into the gods' eyes  and replied “Yes, but only if I can have what I came here for.”

ꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꈤꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪꉣꂦꀎꈤꈤꍟꌗꌗꀤ

“𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚖𝚒𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎.”

ꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꈤꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪꉣꂦꀎꈤꈤꍟꌗ꓄꓄

╭ᑎ╮

The forest deity’s long slithering tendrils began to climb all over my body, sliding between the cloth and skin as the dewy surfaces of the leaves made me shiver. He wrapped them around my waist, arms, and legs, pressing them tightly against my skin. One of the leaves brushed gently against my lips as the creature drew closer, the faint starlight almost revealing his human-like face.

ꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꈤꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪꉣꂦꀎꈤꈤꍟꌗꌗꀤꍏꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀎꀤꍏꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꈤꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪ

“𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜.”

ꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꈤꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪꉣꂦꀎꈤꈤꍟꌗꌗꀤꍏꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀎꀤꍏꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꈤꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪ

The hollow voice said, holding me in the air like a helpless rabbit on a snare. The vines squeezed tightly every time I tried to move even a little, and a few more wrapped around my groin, putting pressure on it. Two more quickly found my aroused nipples and began to knead them tenderly. Soft moans escaped behind my lips as the creature purred with delight, undoubtedly getting enjoyment from my vulnerability.

The deity dragged his long clawed fingers across my body, easily untying my clothes as the vines took care of the rest. With one sharp claw, he trailed my sensitive skin beneath my breasts.

ꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꈤꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪꉣꂦꀎꈤꈤꍟꌗꌗꀤ

“𝚂𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚊 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎.”

ꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꈤꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪꉣꂦꀎꈤꈤꍟꌗꀤꍏ

The voice murmured, his claw softly pushing against my sides and circling my navel. His touch was as cold as the mist surrounding us.

ꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꈤꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪꉣꂦꀎꈤꈤꀤꋪꉣ

“𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚙𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚞𝚜𝚎.”

ꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꈤꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪꉣꂦꀎꈤꈤꀤꋪꂵ

The tendrils pressing against my groin slipped between the fold and began to rub the clit, drenching themselves in my wetness soon enough. My whimpers were muffled by the vine around my mouth carefully pushing in exploring the insides. It jolted when I gave it a playful lick making the deity laugh in delight. Before long I saw another vine, this one with a bulbous bud and oval bumps in the stem. It caressed my cheeks gently, before dropping down to my hips and pressing its tip against my pussy. Two more identical bulbs wrapped around my breasts, replacing the smaller ones rubbing me, and opened up, revealing stunning purple flowers with glowing white anthers, which attached themselves to my nipples and eagerly caressed them almost like they were sucking them.

The one in my mouth moved smoothly back and forth, yet stayed near the tip of my tongue. The bud pressing against my entrance finally popped in and I gasped as it paused for a while, giving me time to adjust to its size, before slowly moving in with a pumping motion. My body squirmed, but the tendrils gave in only a little. A flow of sudden warm sensation poured within me and small convulsions rippled through my body. The creature desecrating it laughed again and I saw another vine moving between his thighs as he pleasured himself.

Not giving me any time to recover, another vine slid against the bud penetrating me, and began to move in rhythm, both now moving with more haste, the one between my lips matching their pace as well. Even in my euphoric state, I could see the creature’s chest heave from strain. The primal desire refused to let me relax in his touch, my hands weakly trying to grab the vines around me, with my body trying to wriggle itself free as I wanted to be released but at the same time I craved for more.

The deity grabbed my waist and pulled me closer, pushing his vines even deeper, pulling the one in my mouth finally out and letting me gasp against his bark-like chest, his hips slamming against me. I grabbed his coarse husk, giving it small kisses between the gasps for air. Another wave of pleasure hit me and my muscles tightened their grip around the vines ramming into me, making me tremble from the force. I could feel the bud inside me open, spreading my legs further apart and making me let out a strangled cry. The lumps in the stem throbbed as something made its way towards the blooming flower. Without slowing down its pace, the flower exploded from the thick seed filling my insides and the deity I was huffing against roared loudly.

The vines gave a few more strong strokes before stopping, still leaving their length inside me. The deity collapsed to his knees, his vines still binding me close to his chest, gently giving me more room to breathe. Sweat dripped down from my skin against his bark and some of his seed escaped between the vines still tucked inside. Mixing our energies together as they hit the dead ground beneath us, leaving small patches of lush growth where they fell. The mist began to fade and the stars above us looked more bright, but my mesmerized gaze was focused on the man who was as drained as I was. His glowing eyes met mine and we stared at each other in silence for a long time. His tendrils softly cupped me into his arms when he sat down, my fingers following the cracks on his barky body as his claws touched gently my face and body.

ꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꈤꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪꉣꂦꀎꈤꈤꍟꌗꌗꃅꍟ

“𝚈𝚘𝚞’𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍, 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚏.”

ꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꈤꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪꉣꂦꀎꈤꈤꍟꌗꌗꀤ

His echoing whispers said.

ꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꈤꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪꉣꂦꀎꈤꈤꍟꌗꌗꀤꍏꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀎꀤꍏꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꈤꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪꍟꋪꉣꂦꀎꈤꈤꍟꌗꌗꀤꍟꋪꉣꂦ

“𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗, 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚊𝚢.”ꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꈤꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪꉣꂦꀎꈤꈤꍟꌗꌗꀤꍏꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀎꀤꍏꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꈤꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪꀤ

He brushed the fallen strands from my face and I smiled at him, worn, but happy that I had sought him out.

“If everything goes according to my plan, that might be a lot longer than you can ever dream of, tree man,” I chuckled.

ꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꈤꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪꉣꂦꀎꈤꈤꍟꌗꌗꀤꍏꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀎꀤꍏꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꈤꀤꋪ

“𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔, 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚖.”

ꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꈤꀤꋪ꓄ꃅꍟꋪꉣꂦꀎꈤꈤꍟꌗꌗꀤꍏꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀎꀤꍏꀤꍏꂵ꓄ꃅꀤꋪꈤꀤꍏ

He answered, playfully tapping my nose with his claw as he did so, then pulling me even closer and kissing me gently behind the dark shroud covering his face. The air around us was cold, but here in his arms, I felt tender warmth. I snuggled against him and watched the dark sky now filled with blazing stars and beautiful colors magnified by the darkness surrounding them.

Sitting there I could finally feel the hope for the future.

[haterishated]

☾ ✦ ✯

☾ NARINDER / READER / THE LAMB

✦ requested by ; ( someone on wattpad )

✯ category ; oneshot

☾ warnings ; mentions of death, claustrophobia, negative talk

✦ pairings ; NARINDER / READER / THE LAMB

✯ setting ; AFTER the events of COTL ( CULT OF THE LAMB )

✦ note ; loved this idea sm

☾ ✦ ✯

- NARINDER was absolutely pissed off when he was first indoctrinated into the cult. To him, that damned lamb had taken power that was rightfully his, and robbed him of it. The worst part that he had to work and worship in a cult he asked the damned vessel to start! Narinder was the god of death! So why is he being treated like some pathetic, sniveling, and weak follower? He was so upset that he felt a tempting urge to rip the fur from his head.

- He felt so helpless, small, and horrible. He felt his heart pulse in his chest and every ache in his body. He felt claustrophobic and squished tight like a compacted cube. That's what mortal life felt like to someone who used to be nothing less of a god. Narinder used to live his life as a wise, strong, and powerful leader. A strong deity who had betrayed his dearest siblings for his blind ambition.

- Narinder's mind was always cluttered with his past regrets and his siblings. What they used to be, how inseparable they were, and how he had ruined it all. He missed Leshy and his stupid pranks, he missed Heket and her fun festivals, he missed Kallamar and his stone collection, he missed Shamura and their words of wisdom. Narinder missed Shamura more then any of his siblings, he loved them and they had raised him since he was young. They had a close bond and loved being in each other's company.

- but those days have eroded as do rocks when the sharp tides of the ocean shape and shave the stones down.

- Those horrible thoughts had invaded his head since the moment he got into the cult, but when he laid eyes on a certain follower, he couldn't seem to get them out of his head. Like they were a tattooed into his own mind.

- And Narinder absolutely adored it.

- He pictured scenarios in his head where you two were together and living happily. Narinder found himself taking comfort in these feelings of delight. He would lie awake at night thinking about you, all the things you two would do together, it was like his own personal, imaginary, heaven that nobody knew about but him.

- Well, THE LAMB did too, which was an issue.

- Narinder had noticed the Lamb's obvious attraction to you and he was NOT having it. He was going to make you his, and his only. You two are going to have a fancy wedding together, eat delicious foods together, and live together happily. Narinder wasn't going to let a stupid, pathetic, lamb ruin it all for him.

- So, Narinder had challenged the lamb to a competition.

- A competition on who will gain your love.

- Narinder was going to need all his tricks because stopping the Lamb from getting close to you was going to be a difficult task. But he was determined to fulfill his goal and ultimate dream, to own your heart. So Narinder had set up "dates" for you two, which was always crashed on by the Lamb. And Narinder went on to ruin the Lamb's ideas to gain your adoration.

- It got chaotic fast.

- The two were practically at each other's throats and getting vengeance on one another, and you seemed to catch on that something was up pretty quickly. They started to get flirty with you, give you everything they could offer, and insult each other to the death. It was brutal...

- .... and it was the most hilarious thing you've ever seen in your life.

��� ✦ ✯

[erisxmp]

❝ Wouldst thou like to live deliciously? ❞

☾ horror media ✵ ACCEPTING! ☽

The fox deity has a knack of saying the right thing to capture her attention.

"Oh, and you're offering? My expectations are high, my dear, you best fill those shoes well." The grin on Eris' face is terrifying to someone, but to Inari she hopes its an invitation to the wicked sparks in her eyes at such a tempting string of words. Eris' dearest Nut may call them a bad influence, but Eris is drawn to Inari's unbridled chaos.

So she looks to what Inari sees, head tilting. Oh. "Delicious indeed."

[idyllcy]

dearest deity - leon kennedy x deity!reader (inspo by chesue)

Leon has a set routine that he has grown used to. He wakes up, and he prepares fruit from the garden for the small temple his family has passed down to him, two peaches placed at the altar before he goes back to prepare his own breakfast.

His family has passed down the art of worshipping a forgotten deity— one whose marble statue has chipped and grown covered in vines. Yet, Leon follows the routine, singing hymns in the temple at noon, tending and snipping the herbs that grow beautifully around the marble, blue eyes stuck to the beauty of the forgotten god that only his family tended to.

How lonely they must be.

At sunset, he lights the four candles at the foot of the statue by the altar, lowering himself onto his knees, whispering a prayer passed down for centuries in his house, eyes closed and heart still as he chants.

Typically, he finishes the prayer and the four candles go out on their own.

This time, however, he finishes and the candles stay lit.

He wonders if he should try again to pray, but as he opens his mouth to start again, two snakes slither from both sides, curling up the body of the statue as a comet passes in the sky, and Leon is startled to the ground. He falls backward, watching as a glow of gold erupts from the statue as the snakes turn into the same marble, and the altar cracks, tablet in the front sliding down as a shadow is revealed.

The body.

A body.

Someone opens their eyes from the inside of the altar.

You open your eyes from the inside of the altar.

"Where... am I?"

Leon would recognize that face anywhere, and at that moment, all he can do is thank the skies above for what is about to be graced with.

"Oh, sweet heavens of health." He whispers. "Do forgive this mere human for what he is about to do."

He takes a step closer, offering his hand to you, his veil sliding down his hair.

"Welcome to earth, dearest deity. This mere worshipper greets you."

You blink down at Leon slowly, tilting your head.

"The heavens greet you, kind man. Pray tell, what you wished to receive from a minor god of healing?"

"Nothing." He breathes.

God, if he could keep worshipping you for the rest of his life, then he would be fine.

"Nothing at all, dearest deity."

[idyllcy]

immortal soul, mortal hands - leon kennedy x reader (everyone thank @chesue00 for this)

“Leon.” Your voice is gentle, eyes trailing his face as he focuses on the paper, humming back in acknowledgement.

“Leon.”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Can I move?”

Leon clicks his tongue and you stay still, pout on your lips as he smiles.

“Can I move?”

“I’m almost done, beloved.”

You stay still, counting the lashes on his face and the colors of his eyes, tilting your head as he reaches over to brush the charcoal and shade, smiling when he meets eyes with you.

“I love you.”

“What’s prompting that?”

“You’re not gonna say it back?”

“I love you too.” You hum, eyes closing as he turns the canvas over to show you.

How beautiful it is to be immortalized by the hands of your mortal lover.

[idyllcy]

dearest devotion - leon kennedy x deity!reader (nsfw warning) (cont. from this)

Leon finds that you're not much different from the humans, skin soft under his hand, eyes half-lidded as you gasp, head thrown back as he relishes in the opportunity to touch you. He does not know how to touch you, but he goes based on instinct, based on faith. 

"I'll give you a holy body." He rasps.

"Give me it to me." You gasp. "Please, Leon, devoted one."

His fingers tangle with yours in the sheets, devotion bleeding from his skin onto yours, heart melted out of his chest so that it could reach yours. His skin burns from touching yours, lungs burning in his chest unforgiving as his skin is pressed to yours, lashes gentle against your collar as he worships you as he should.

This is better.

His lips pressed to the back of your ear, chest pressed to yours, body one with yours— this is better.

The feeling of you around him until you're chanting his name as though he were the god, the sound of his desperation fills like a hymn at service in the air, prayers of his devotion filling your head under him.

All he knows is to devote himself.

All he knows is to serve you.

[idyllcy]

there's no difference, i adore ya

word count: 6.5k || Medieval AU || Photo by Antibia

warnings: major character death, childbirth, non-explicit smut

summary: beginning too late, ending too soon

"Do you live waiting for something to happen?"

The question from your friend causes you to blink, confusion written all over your face as you pause in picking the fruit at the market.

"What?"

"I don't know. I heard that witch ask the question the other day, so I always wondered if we were supposed to do something instead of waiting for something to happen to us." She frowns. "That apple's too soft."

You grimace at the way it dents under your fingers, placing it back down. "Madam, you got any other fruit?"

"Unfortunately, the batch lately has just been bad." She shakes her head.

"And the prunes?"

She shakes her head. "The castle took all the good harvest to welcome the soldiers back from war."

"You must be relieved, madam. Your son and husband should return." You smile. "I heard the knights this year were exceptionally capable and there were no men dead amongst ours."

"Yes." She laughs, chest rumbling as your friend remembers something.

"Oh, goodness! That cute neighbor of mine is returning!" Your friend gasps.

"The one you've taken a liking to that your parents refused to wed you to?"

"Ugh, it's not my fault his family is gone! Instead, I am stuck with my good for nothing husband at home." She grumbles. "If only I was still available as you."

"How awful." You find a single good apple amongst the soft ones, asking the madam if you could take it. She nods, letting you go without a coin in her hand, somewhat happier now that her husband and son should be returning. You place the apple in your basket, wandering back home with your friend, festivities being put up as the two of you are pushed to the side, eyes wide and blinking in mild surprise as the knights march down the town. You glance at the men in armor, raising a brow at your friend when she squeals her neighbor's name, the man turns to stare into your eyes instead, your breath stuck in your throat as the sun goldens his blue eyes.

"He's looking this way!" She squeals.

"That is your neighbor?" You force yourself to look away from him, balancing yourself as she pretends to faint into your arms. "Was your neighbor not the village boy we met so long ago?"

"Yes, he had been promoted to our family knight at the time before the war, so he was by rule, our neighbor. It seems the king will promote him to something better instead now that he has come back from war victorious with the princess." She gushes. "Oh, good heavens. If only my parents had waited as I instructed them to! Look at how attractive of a man he has become!"

You turn to look back at him, surprised to see him stopped and still staring at you.

"Oh, goodness. It seems he is fond of you." Your friend mumbles, squealing as she smacks your arm. "Darling, talk to him!"

"He has just returned from war. It is not something I can fathom him doing."

As you say, the knight gets back to moving from the yell of another knight, his blue eyes burn into your mind as you wonder just what had you looking so lovely for him to be staring at you as that. You are not attractive. Your friend had been wedded immediately upon growing to marriable age, and your parents had tried time and time again to set you up, only for it to be dropped. You were not suitable. A better candidate had appeared. A woman more suited for their son had been suggested. It was never you. You had never been picked in the end. You do not find that it should be a problem. After all, you are still young, but there is a fear that gnaws at the back of your head that you will be unmarried by 20 and then too old for everyone else. No man covets an old woman.

Yet, you were a late bloomer anyway, so it is unsurprising that you had not been allowed to be wedded by the church until you had started bleeding.

Then, by that time, most of the men were already off to war, leaving you very few men, most of whom had already gotten married. Most other girls were wedded to the noblemen who did not need to fight in the time. You had not been a first choice to many of them because of the way you carried yourself. You could not be sold as an obedient wife out of a fear that your family would be condemned to death by your would-be husband's.

You are not wealthy in a land that only adores the wealthy.

"How was the parade, child?"

"It was alright." You smile at your mother. "I saw the knights return."

"Well, now that they are back, surely you can be wedded off." Your father sighs, tapping the table as your mother places down dinner.

"I got an apple from the madam at the market." You hand it to your mother, who rushes off and chatters about a pie, leaving you with your father.

"Is there a man you would like?"

"No." You pause, blue eyes flashing in your mind as you answer, causing you to stop.

"You do not look of such."

"Shame." You mumble. "I met eyes with a young knight today, but considering he is the leader of the group, surely he will be wedded to the princess as an excuse to hand him a title and some land."

"And if you are the second wife?"

"We are not the east, father." You thank your mother as she hands you a bowl, and your father starts eating.

"Did he stop to stare?"

"Yes."

"Oh, then surely he'll request of you from the king." Your mother laughs, placing her own plate down as she eats. "It is the same as your father had done. You would be surprised to know how certain your father had been that I was to be wed to him."

You entertain your mother's words, sure that such will not happen. Any man with their right mind would not choose a woman over a title, yet you are sure there are men as your father. Lovesick fools, your mother calls them. Your father had been so enamored with your mother, and despite the words of everyone around you insisting that your mother was plain and average, you thought of her to be lovely. Your mother was lovely. It was a sight to behold — your mother had been loved from the moment your father laid eyes on her, and you knew it well. It was rare, you think. Perhaps that is also why your father complains only verbally, never actively looking for a man for you. They had wedded late. Later than your current age. They had worried not, so neither should you.

"Good news will befall you soon." Your mother insists.

"I hope my husband at least received a title."

Your friend comes knocking for you to shop for food with her a week from then, arm hooked under yours, lips curled upwards as it only means she has some groundbreaking news to let you know of.

"Pray tell, what is this news this time?"

"Oh, you know me so well." She grins. "That knight from our house? Promoted."

"Promoted? To what? Has he been wedded to the princess?"

"No, the princess was married off to a neighboring nation. You know, the king has a young son now, after all." She waves her hand. "The title of viscount was bestowed upon him by the king."

"And?"

"And?? That means he is of marriable age, unwed, and attractive! You should have your parents suggest of you to him!"

"He's a noble now. There is no chance that he will go searching for someone not of noble background." You hum. "Why wed in a pool of the poor when the rich are options."

"You know, he is a new noble after all. There is little chance that he will wed with someone of the nobles."

"Surely that face of his is good for something." You purchase pears this time around, humming as you hand the woman a dozen eggs for the basket of pears.

"Look!"

"At—" You tense up when you notice your friend is no longer behind you and it is a man, and you turn slowly, taking a step forwards as you do, blinking at the knight that has so kindly decided to appear out of nowhere. "Sir."

"Mistress." He places his hand on his chest, bowing gently as you muster a smile.

"Pray tell, knight, if there is something that I could be help of?"

"Your parents, mistress."

"I am not of noble descent. There is no need to refer to me of such name."

"I assure you, there will be soon." He nods. "Unless you have complaints?"

"There are none, I assure you. I shall bring you to my mother and father."

Your friend had run off long ago, and when you finally glance up to look at her, she is far down the road on her way home, waving at you dramatically as you sigh.

"You are tired?"

"No, knight. My friend is just full of life, you see." You nod at him to follow you, stepping down a set of stairs as you arrive at your home, your voice meeting an empty home as you have him follow you to the yard.

"I am back with the pears... and a knight."

Your father looks up, raising a brow at the knight as he laughs.

"Sir Leon, was it? Matthew of York was gabbing of the new squadron leader. It must have been you, considering those blue eyes of yours."

"Honored, sir." The knight, Leon, follows your father as you take over his work with the chickens, chasing one down and grabbing it by the wing, flipping it upside down as your mother claps.

"That one will do for dinner." She hums. "Let's feather the bird."

"Yes, ma."

You are to be wedded to Leon. It was hard to turn down a man who was higher standing than both of your parents, and despite your father being his superior previously, there was no argument or complaint raised from you, so it was fine to proceed with the arrangement. You have no complaints if you are marrying... noble, or whatnot. It is not of your concern. You are just grateful that you are no longer unwed. At least the wives with no better to do will stop sneering at you.

Though, they would start sneering of how you seduced the man with your figure. Truly, there is nothing you can do that would satisfy the mouthes of the bored.

"If there is any one who does not will for the couple to be wedded, speak now or forever hold your peace."

You blink at the way your to-be husband holds your hands, his calloused ones from the sword against your softer ones. Your hands are no better, still rough from the livestock, slightly bruised from the work that you had been raised to do. You had only stopped once your father realized that you'd be wedded better if your hands had been well kept. Rough hands on a woman meant that she was of lower standing in class. Your father didn't care, but it also mattered that you would marry well. To be wedded to a bad man was enough to age your father too many years. The end of his life was approaching, after all. It's surprising that your mother had even survived childbirth of you. Your father almost didn't— you're surprised they did not have more to tend to the livestock. Something about your mother suffering too much while having you to have another. You suppose if love is a concept, then it would be your mother and father.

"I pray he shall take care of you the same way your father does me." Your mother tells you, wedding clothes draped over you as you are wed at the chapel, exchange and officiation of the ceremony done by the priest, your bowed head and an exchange of rings that are surprising quality from a knight. The gold band slid to your finger and to his, the gold glistening against your skin as you stare up at Leon. Your husband, now. The man whom you barely knew would be the man you are to spend the rest of your life together with. However long that life of yours would be.

"And the consummation." The priest nods.

"We shall deal with such in our abode. Come on."

You follow Leon as he brings you, fingers entwined with yours as he leads you through the paths, lips curled upwards once you arrive at his residence, stopping to stare at all the maids and aides that you're sure Leon isn't any more familiar with than you. How does one manage wealth after living their whole life as a commoner? You are sure there is a servant for that, but you are also certain that you will need to watch everything to make sure the wealth is built and not squandered. Does your husband know of such? There is too much to think of.

"Overwhelmed?" He smiles at you, and you sigh.

"I will have to grow familiar with it." You follow him as he leads you to the bedroom, standing to the side as you blink at him and then the bed, preparing to strip.

"If you do not—"

"It is my duty." You continue, cutting him off. "I bed of you to be quick. I have heard it can be painful."

"If you are not prepared." He steps towards you, letting you sit down on the bed, kneeling as you drop the inner layer.

"And how are you to have child with me if you are on the ground?"

"I will not hurt you. I could not dream of it." He has you sit, undressing himself as well, spitting on his fingers.

"Do the men of the battlefield know of this?"

"They are the ones who taught me, despite my status as commander." He pries your legs open, staring up at you, waiting for a nod.

"And the brothels?"

"You learn much just by observing." He pauses. "It is a sin, is it not?"

"There are so many worse sins out there. As long as it does not hurt."

"I would not wish of it."

Marriage consummation is supposedly painful, but Leon puts the skills of the battlefield to good use, visits to the brothel with his soldiers long engrained in his soul, your body thoroughly spent as though you had been tending to the livestock, mark of your nails raked down your husband's back with a red previously unknown to you, your exhaustion much more apparent when the maids wake you the next day — your husband missing, and you are tended to and bathed, the maids whispering amongst themselves of the visible bruises left on your neck. Abuse or adoration, they wonder. Is their master as cruel as to bring back a woman just to abuse her? You know the answer, yet the embarrassment stops you from speaking up.

You meet your husband in his garden, the man with his sword out, swinging and training with the guards of his new residence, years of heavy armory apparent in his stature, body glistening under the sun, breathless blue eyes bright under the morning rays. You do not speak or move, waving the maids off as they scatter, and you take a seat on the side, blinking slowly as you take in the sight of your husband. Do you love him? Will you love him? What is love, truly? Does father have truly so much faith in you as to fall in love with a man you had only met once? Is it truly better to marry a man who adores you than to marry a man whom you adore?

"Wife." He brightens at the sight of you, forcing the knight's sword away with his own, rushing over to you as though he were some overgrown hound, lowering himself onto one knee as he checks your skin, asking you of your morning — are you alright? are you growing accustomed to the life in his residence? do you require of anything? how about a new gown? a visit to your companion's? how about a walk? He is an overgrown docga, you find. You wonder if it was normal to equate your husband to an animal, but as you find yourself running your hand through his dirty hair without much a second thought and ruffling his hair, you wonder if you had accidentally wounded your husband's pride.

Instead, you are met with a laugh, his cheeks red as he leans his head further into your touch.

"Should we fetch a hound, dear wife?"

"My apologies, Sir Leon." You cough, pulling your hands away from his hair. "It was—"

"Leon is fine, dear wife." He hums. "I am your husband now. There is no need to be formal."

"Do excuse me, for we barely know each other."

"I am most certain you are the one."

You are not sure how he is certain, but the way he beholds you with such fondness in his eyes leaves no argument for your futile thoughts.

You are certain that there would be nowhere else where a man could behold you in such light.

"Surely?"

"You are sent by the Lord himself." He rests his forehead on your hands, humming. "There is no larger grace than that of the moment I first met eyes with you."

You give him a laugh that can only mean you are only half-convinced. Yet, you do not make mention that you do not believe him. There is only so much that you can experience before you pass. Your husband will be sent to war in time again as his role of knight, and you will have children and possibly pass before you get to see him older with age. You wonder if you will bear him a son at the very least. An heir to carry on the name that has so mournfully ended with your birth because of your father's choice to protect your mother.

"Rest here. I shall return in a little time." Leon offers you a smile. "And I shall bring you around the garden when I do."

He offers you a kiss to the bone by your eye, calloused fingers against soft skin as he smiles.

You leave him with silence, eyes back to watching the way he continues with training his own guards. He prefers to do many things on his own, hands laboring out in the fields of the garden, pruning the trees and asking for your opinion on what flowers sounded pretty. He does not expect you to know which ones will be pretty since he does not either, but he includes you, letting you sit on the stone bench as he discusses with the hired gardener, listening intently as he's told which flower combinations work best.

"And you, wife?"

"Roses are fine, Leon."

Leon nods, continuing his conversation, and you wonder if this is a man hurt by war and worn down by years of fighting. It is a valiant thing — to be kind even after war. It is an effort to choose to be one way when it is much easier to be another. You fear that you are too plain to stand next to him. When the sun shines, does everyone not flock to bask in the glow of gold? You bask in it on your own, your husband far too attached to you to even consider basking someone else in the shine of his light. It is reserved for you and you alone, and you find that there are women who dream of such warmth.

"Shall we share a chamber, wife?"

"It is not customary not to, no?" You raise a brow. "There is no reason to, Leon."

"Is it so wrong to wish to be by my wife?"

"You spoil me rotten."

"If not me, then who?"

You move into Leon's room, your closet moving alongside you, maids whispering amongst themselves of how strange it is that the master would mention residing with the mistress if not to have a child. Yet, when it is night and Leon pulls you to the balcony with a duvet wrapped around you as he kneels by your feet and shows you the stars, you wonder if there is some way you can love him back. Will time make the heart grow fonder? Will you learn to love Leon the way he deserves to be adored by the time that you both have children? You do not want such a curse to befall your children.

"And that one is Vega."

"The merchant the other day told tales of her and Altair."

"So in love that they neglected their duties, was it?" You stare up. "How I wish that were me."

"Am I not loveable, wife?"

"No, you deserve far more affection than that I can offer to you." You hum, pulling him up to have a seat by you.

"We have all the time for such."

"Once an heir is born, then we will have less." You hum. "There is always a chance I will pass during childbirth, after all."

"That will not happen." He hums. "I assure you. I shall not bed you until you are comfortable with me as I am you."

"It will take a while, then. Neither of us are young anymore, husband."

"It is alright. If we pass without an heir, then I shall return everything to the princess in my will." He smiles. "There is no rush, beloved."

"I fear that while you do not, I will."

You fall into a mundane life with Leon, taking a stroll in the garden in the morning to check on the roses and their growing progress, eating with him in the hall, and then the two of you separate for you to continue your instrument lessons while he trains the knights. You meet again at night before bed, making use of your time by engaging in conversation, making mention of all that you had done in the day. Is there truly anything new? You do not know. Just what does your husband see in you to spoil you to extent?

"I shall be heading to town." You pull for your old clothes when you were a commoner, refusing the maids' aide to at least make you presentable, and you palm the dry dirt, shaking it into your hair. You look like how you did a long time ago. You nearly do not recognize yourself. You have grown used to the artistry of your day to day life and forgotten your roots.

You meet up with your friend, smiling as she is in her commoner clothes as well.

"So? How's marriage?"

"It is alright." You hum. "Not much has occurred."

"Truly?"

"Truly." You glance at the apples on display. "He refuses to bed me until I can love him."

"How could you not? He has such a charming visage."

"Perhaps something holds me back." You glance at the witch on the street. "Oh, yes, whatever happened to Adaline?"

"Oh, it seems she had been wedded off to the neighboring estate." She taps her chin. "The duchy of Wellesley, if I remember correctly."

You wonder how she is doing. No, you should not wonder over such. The two of you are long gone. It had been gone the second she decided she would be the one rather than you. The king has promised your husband a life of retirement now that Leon is wedded to you. Until you are with an heir, he is not allowed to leave the walls of the kingdom. Something about how Leon needed children or else one of the greatest knights in history would go down as a knight without lineage. You're sure your children would love to hear of their father's achievements in war.

"Do you want children?" You glance at Leon step by you, wine handed to you as you stare down at the garden.

"Why would I not?"

"You do not bed me, insisting that I must love you before have children. We have our lives for the love you crave for me to feel." You press the drink to your lips, staring out. "I will age, and soon, I will not be able to bear children for you."

"That is fine." Leon insists, leaning on the railing. "Children or not, you are more valuable."

"What value do you find in me? Truly, I am none more than your wife. I do not beg, whine, nor give affection to you. What do you see in me to cause you to believe that I am deserving of all of this love?"

"Is it so wrong to love someone?"

You finish the last of your wine, blinking slowly. "No, just not me."

Leon is infatuated with you. Do you know why? You could not care less. All you are to do is bear a child for your husband and move on with life. If you pass, then you pass. If you stay, then you raise the child with your husband — it is that simple. That is what you are to do. The thought of it makes you seem plain and unwanted, eyes blinking slowly as you stare at the witch across from you in the square, raising a brow when your friend yells out an all-too-familiar name.

"Adaline!"

That gets your attention.

"Adaline." You breathe the name as though it's second nature, fingers twitching by your side, heart hammering in your chest.

Yet, she disappears back into the crowd, and all chasing is futile, your legs stuck in place as the clouds of rain brew over your head, looming over both your heart and soul as you rush back to the estate, clothes soaked through and muddied with the dirt from rushing.

"Wife." Leon calls for the servants immediately, drying you up by the fire as he leans against the wall behind you, eyes stuck on your figure as you speak not. "Shall we rest?'

"You not need to be so considerate of me, husband." You stare at the fire, warm colors burning in your eyes as you wave the servant off. "I know you are curious."

"I am fine with you leaving the estate. I only wish that you would be slightly more honest with me when you do."

"I miss an old friend despite her betrayal. It is that simple." You turn around to stare at him. "It is complicated, my heart. Please take a seat."

"Will you tell me?"

"If I collect myself first."

The fire crackles in your eyes, ashes burning and shattering as you stare, words tumbling out of your heart, eyes weary with an age that should not be possible to you. You look both wounded and aged. Leon has only ever seen those eyes on the men who live til sixty, white visible in both their hair and eyes, old age consuming them until they are a shell of their previous self. You should not be capable of such emotion. Leon wonders if that is what stops you from loving him how you wish you could.

"It seemed you shared quite the bond."

"Dare I say it, I believe I had loved her." You sigh. "How heretical of me."

"The bond you establish with the one you lose can not be broken, beloved." Leon hums. "Do visit her, will you? I assure you, she misses you."

"How can you be so sure?"

"The heart knows what it does."

You return to the market, stuck staring at the new woman in red, lips and cheeks rouge with blood, blinking when you remember who she is now.

"Witch." You smile.

"Ah, dearest. What brings you to me? Your friend visited last, not you." She tilts her head. "Concerning your husband?"

"You asked my friend once."

"Do you live waiting for something to happen." She hums. "And?"

"She asked me, and surely, after that, I was wedded despite not doing anything." You hum. "Let me treat you at the pub, I insist."

"And what do you have to treat me for?"

You lower your voice, humming slowly. "Is there a reason to treat an old friend to a drink?"

"I am afraid—"

"Adaline." You call her by name, watching as she tenses under your grip. "I beg of you, speak to me."

"What is there to speak of?"

"How is life? Why have you decided to return? Is it true that your husband has fallen ill?"

"I do not care for that man. I took the scar for you. It is that simple."

"So the rumors were true." You reach out for her forearm, squeezing as she grimaces. "He had sold you."

"It was not something I could not handle."

"There was no need. Mother could have rejected on our behalf." You whisper. "He would not have won against father's blade."

"I had to. I could not let the others take the hit in our village. Everyone raised me, so it was only fair that I would pay them back with the same love."

Your expression falls, eyes hurt as she lowers her voice under the moon.

"I sent your husband your way." Adaline swallows. "He had visited the brothel, ending up in my hand, and for that moment in time, all I could imagine was how... sweet and loving he would have been if he met you. I told him of a girl with breathtaking eyes and brilliant features, telling him all that you had always adored. I had prayed earnestly that he would find you and you would be the one. I wished that you would not have to suffer the same fate as I."

"Why did you take the marriage in my stead?"

"I could survive being sold off, you could not." She whispers. "Your hands only know the warmth of your loved ones and the livestock in your home. My hands have become rough because of the blade. Beloved, it was for you. It was always for you."

"Then return to me. Return to me if I am your beloved."

"Your husband could not allow such a thing."

"You do not know that." You mumble. "I beg of you. I shall kneel if needed. Return to me, my moon."

Adaline shakes her head, offering you a gentle squeeze of your hand instead, taking two steps back before retreating into the shadows where you can no longer find her. You stay standing, eyes trailed on where she was last in the shadow until Leon finds you in the dust, hands sliding over your shoulders as you stand there and let out silent tears.

"Beloved."

Leon does not answer, so you try again.

"Husband, beloved."

"Yes?"

"Let us return home."

"Of course."

You heal after that, affection easier at your fingertips when you reach for Leon, lips curled upwards when you rub your eyes at waking.

"How are you, wife?"

"I am alright, beloved." You smile at him, lips pulled up at the edges, sun glowing against your husband as he covers your eyes. "my apologies you had to tangle yourself with my mess."

"That is quite alright." He whispers, mug handed to you as you blink up at him. "Do you feel better?"

"Yes." You whisper. "I promise."

"Good." He mumbles. "Shall we dine?"

"Yes."

The mess of strings doesn't untangle immediately. Leon notices that you are more gentle, fingers kind against his while the two of you walk in the garden, hand tucked around his arm as you let him tell you how the flowers have been. You tell him you can deal with the garden now that you have fully settled into the role of his wife, and he tells you he is alright with it. There is not much to do, and even when you watch jousting with Leon and enjoy dinner with the king every now and then, life is simple.

You're not too sure if you're content with living like that.

"Shall we try for child?"

Leon takes your offer this time. You insist that you must bear him a son, and you seem to be anxious of time. His hands are calloused against yours, bruises of purple on your skin, the sound of your cries echoing down the hall of the residence, quiet prayers that you would be with child spreading through the hall through rumors, and the day that the alcohol finally reacts, you exhale. Leon takes extra care of you during the time, listening to the priests as they pray for you to be with son, but Leon does not care. He asks for prayers for your safety instead. There is always a sense of forbearing because you shake your head when he requests for your health.

"Beloved, you love me."

"I do." You hum.

"Then why do you not let me love you back?"

You do not answer, staring out at the flowers instead.

"If it is a daughter, I do earnestly hope that I get to braid flowers into her hair." You mumble. "And if it is a son, then I have served my purpose."

"I do hope that she is a daughter. That way, you will still think you are use to me."

"And then?"

"And then, I would still lay bare with you, skin soft against mine."

Your remaining days are spent walking with your husband, pregnancy heavy on your body as your back is sore, eyes distant as Leon seems to ponder over what is on your mind. His hands are gentle with your feet, callouses rough against your fingers as you continue staring at the sunset.

"We should prepare for a grave."

"For whom?"

"I do not know. Where do you think it would be nice to be buried?"

"And why not the garden?"

"At the center of the maze?"

Leon gets the sense that you have made peace with the idea of death one day. You seem to be prepared to pass at all times, and you refuse to share whether or not it is pregnancy-related. Instead, you tell him of how you would like to prepare your grave, telling him of flowers that he should plant by them, and he tells you not to worry. You will survive, he tells you. He tells you that you will live, and in the case that a decision must be made, it must be you saved over the child.

You offer him a sad smile in response.

When the child arrives, you are tended to, Leon praying quietly outside of your room, managing the household's affairs from the outside of your door at all times, ignoring the desk that he has, settling for a chair outside of the room you are in. The sound of your agony rattles the walls of the estate, and Leon furrows his brows, pacing back and forth, growing restless when the cries of a child is heard, the nurses opening the door as you offer Leon a sad smile.

"You must use the wet nurse." You whisper.

"Of course I will." He mumbles, forehead pressed to yours as he rests his hand on the child's blanket. "It will be for you."

"No." You whisper. "It will be for the child."

Leon furrows his brows, blinking at you as you offer him a sad smile.

"It is fortunate that it is a son."

"No." He mumbles. "No, no. Beloved, do not say that."

"I have lost too much blood." You whisper. "It is a son. It is your son."

"I do not want him if it means the loss of you." He mumbles. "Beloved, no. no. No."

"It is unfortunate." Your voice grows weak, the nurses trying their best to clean you up. "I would have enjoyed being your wife for just a little longer."

Leon yells as the nurses dive in to try and help you, and Leon watches in horror in the corner of the room as you close your eyes, body relaxing, There is a slight smile on your face, and Leon watches in horror as you look so peaceful, the child crying for your warmth as death steals it from him, and Leon's warmth replacing your stolen one as he holds the child to him. The crying does not stop, but neither does the horror on Leon's face as the nun shakes her head, offering a look of pity to Leon as he gasps for air.

The boy cries in his arms, a child's cries ringing in his ears as the news of your death rings as well, and the wet nurse taking the child as Leon steadies himself with the chair, blinking slowly as he processes the news. The world has ended. The battle has left him with nothing, and he is back in the war. It is a flood of memories, flushing down his system as he stands there, numb with the thought of you having passes, his steps heavy as he walks to you, taking your hand in his, ring on your finger as he blinks slowly. The news must spread.

He must tell your parents that he has killed their beloved daughter for the sake of his son.

He must tell your friend that you have passed to bear him a son.

He must tell Adaline that you have passed.

He must live with the guilt that he has caused you to pass because he had not been a good husband — that the heavens must have struck you down because he had been unfaithful, that he had not loved you as he should have the way God ordained. Instead, he now bears the responsibility of a son, small hands delicate against his, your cold ones returned to the ground in the garden.

You had known. Unconsciously, you had known.

Leon had picked it up too. You had been preparing to let him down slowly — gently, dare he say it.

But you have passed, and he is left where you have left him, hands calloused compared to yours, fingers rougher than yours would have been. He is not fit to raise a child without you. Instead, the bundle of what should have been joy is just a bundle in his arms, and when he finds your features on his son, he is full of the same bitterness he is sure you felt when you had been left behind. You would not like that.

He tries to imagine what you would do.

Your hands would be gentle while tending to the baby.

You would watch as Leon teaches the child to wield the sword.

You would scold the boy for poor courtesy — you would reprimand him for being unkind to others.

You would watch as he falls in love and weds, bands on his fingers, hair like yours fluttering in the wind of the chapel as he gives his heart to her.

And, he's sure you would have been proud when Leon is buried next to you in your garden of love.

Perhaps, then, he shall find you once more.

[leonw4nter]

There is a certain beauty that comes with remembering, Leon finds. In the centuries that he had forgotten all about you, his heart had somehow remembered, adorning you in the lion's mane until he forgot it was his first, singing hymns he knew you cherished from the time he had spent with you, leaving you peaches because you had always shared the best harvest of them with him, sneaking in that you adored the taste of the nectar on your tongue. His mind had forgotten, but his heart had not, burying you into the depths of his consciousness until he would remember you again one day.

yk what this calls for? listening to 'goddess' by laufey :3 like i had my liked songs on shuffle and i just had to read this with that blasting in my earphones 🥹 actually, reread it coz i just *had* to experience this blessing from heaven typa fic

How do I act normal again now that I've added another fic in my mental list of the most heart-fondling fics. This dynamic just sweet-talked its way into calling my heart into its home and this fic made sure that my newfound fondness for this trope stays housed in here --> 💗. THE WAY CRESSIE WROTE IT?!?! I was reaching into my screen and holding the characters in my arms bro. I don't know what to do with my life now that I'm looking forward to more fics with Leon in this dynamic AGRHAGRHG I'm gonna go lie down and daydream about deity!reader and Leon now... maybe fall asleep and dream of them too. <3 . Someone read this fic, PLEASE, we need to be one in falling in love with Cressie's writing like LETS TALK ABOUT ITTTTT.

I should be sleeping but NO. I JUST HAD TO SAY THIS, I CAN'T KEEP QUIET ABOUT THIS.

gentle are the hands that hold you

word count: 6.1k || banner art by @chesue00

summary: the mind may forget, but the soul will not

Leon has a set routine that he has grown used to. He wakes up, and he prepares fruit from the garden for the small temple his family has passed down to him, four peaches placed at the altar before he goes back to prepare his own breakfast. When he cooks, the sun early in the sky, and the morning dew is still present. He's certain that the sound of animals is the sound of the peaches getting eaten, and when he cleans up his plate and looks for that of the temple, the fruits are gone, including the pits, and the herbs around the altar have returned to their natural health.

He cuts three of them — one of each color.

His family has passed down the art of worshipping a forgotten deity— one whose marble statue has chipped and grown covered in vines. The marble carvings of the title of the deity only retain the words "health" and "herb", and the herbs that can be used for illness grow around the altar and are seldom cut. Leon learned it from a long time ago as a child, and he never stopped. Some might consider the routine to be a nuisance, but Leon enjoys the routine, singing hymns in the temple at noon, brushing out the lion's mane on the god's head after his singing, tending and snipping the herbs that grow beautifully around the marble, blue eyes stuck to the beauty of the forgotten god that only his family tended to, relishing in the statue's beauty.

How lonely they must be.

At sunset, he lights the four candles at the foot of the statue by the altar, lowering himself onto his knees, whispering a prayer passed down for centuries in his house, eyes closed and heart still as he chants. The words are to come from the heart, he recalls. So, he reads them

Typically, he finishes the prayer and the four candles go out on their own.

This time, however, he finishes and the candles stay lit.

He wonders if he should try again to pray, but as he opens his mouth to start again, two snakes slither from both sides, curling up the body of the statue as a comet passes in the sky, and Leon is startled to the ground. He falls backward, watching as a glow of gold erupts from the statue as the snakes turn into the same marble, and the altar cracks, tablet of the title in the front sliding down as a shadow is revealed.

The body.

A body.

Someone opens their eyes from the inside of the altar.

You open your eyes from the inside of the altar.

"Where... am I?"

Leon would recognize that face anywhere, and at that moment, all he can do is thank the skies above for what he is about to be graced with.

"Oh, sweet heavens of health." He whispers. "Do forgive this mere human for what he is about to do."

He takes a step closer, offering his hand to you, his veil sliding down his hair.

"Welcome to earth, dearest deity. This mere worshipper greets you."

You blink down at Leon slowly, tilting your head.

"The heavens greet you, kind mortal. Pray tell, what you wished to receive from a minor god of healing?"

"Nothing." He breathes.

God, if he could keep worshipping you for the rest of his life, then he would be fine.

"Nothing at all, dearest deity."

You blink at him slowly once more, looking around the temple as you stare at the herbs. Leon notices the otherwordly glow that seems to emit from your body, and the color never seems to leave your skin. You glow the same shade as your complexion, crown of yellow on your head as you observe your surroundings, staring at Leon.

Leon does not know what you think. He can not know. How could he? He was not more than a mere worshipper who was taught to care for you eternally. Eternally to be your servant, never to dream of meeting you. You, who seemed to appear out of nowhere and cry gold and green, skin naked to the eye and touch. Touching you is out of the question, yet he holds his hand out to you. You seem to lack a reaction, still taking in your surroundings as Leon breathes. Breathing heavily. Heavy is his chest as he stares at you — it feels like a violation to be able to see you so up close.

"If I may?" He offers.

You take his hand, and Leon's heart lunges into his throat at your touch.

"Thank you."

Your voice flutters along with the wind as he pulls you out of the altar, and you stare around at the opened scenery.

"My temple has deteriorated."

"Yes." Leon whispers. "It is only my family left, you see."

"The blood of the temple's knights." You mumble. "I am grateful that your blood has stayed. I do not know what I would do had you not."

Leon nods slowly. "Do you... wish to do something?"

You glance at the garden that Leon tends to and the produce, blinking ever so slowly as you smile.

"Will you teach me to tend to the plants?"

"Do you wish for it?"

"I miss my roots." You blink slowly. "The plants miss me. My mortal body has lost itself."

"Then, if I may, I shall tend to them with you again?" Leon tilts his head.

You blink at him, staring into his eyes, past his soul and straight to his heart as he holds his breath. You tilt your head, and your eyes gloss over with a distant look, almost as though you were reminiscing of something. Instead, you nod slowly, blinking as you nod, eyes clearing up as you nod again. This time, you seem sure of it.

"Thank you."

"The pleasure is all mine." Leon mumbles.

Goodness, you're not good for the heart.

You let Leon guide you, his questions lingering in the air when you ask him of everything, needing to be guided and taught how to take care of certain things, and Leon wonders if he could truly do a good job. To worship you, he finds, is to treat you as glass is. When you ask him what to do, he tells you. You are clueless of certain things yet you know much more than he does. He does not understand this dynamic that he has gotten himself into. Teaching a god how to listen to human responses, how works work, and how gardening does.

When the sun rises in the morning, he places a singular peach onto the altar for the wildlife, and he offers you a peach that you have grown used to eating. You thank him with a slow nod, biting into it as he makes a breakfast in a larger than usual portion. He offers you an egg from his pan, but you shake your head, content with the peach in your hands. The juice sticks to your hands as you bite into it, and the fruit gets all over your chin, but you are happy, and even as Leon watches you eat, nearly missing his mouth with the fork, you seem content. Leon finishes his food only after you stare at the peach core left in your hand.

"Will this grow into a tree?"

"It will take a handful of years, but yes." He hums. "We can plant it with the rest of the peach trees in the garden."

You nod slowly.

"I shall go change. Please make yourself comfortable while I do, dearest deity."

You nod, looking around at the wildlife from the window, climbing out as your feet land in the grass, much more comfortable to you. The snakes in the garden slither around your calves, sitting there as you continue walking through the garden to find your temple, the medicinal herbs surrounding the altar looking dimmer than usual as you press your hand to them, the same golden glow restoring the herbs to their colors. You would have to bring a second peach to the altar in the morning from the trees.

"Will you be alright in these clothes?" Leon's changed into something easier to move in, finding you as you stare at the fallen tablet from the night before.

"It will be fine." You smooth your hand over the marble, blinking slowly as you frown. "Do you know what words were once written here?"

"I am afraid not." Leon's heart races in his chest, and you sigh.

"I have lost part of me." You glance at the eroded stone on certain words.

"If I may, I shall help you find it once more."

Leon teaches you the ropes of managing the farm, showing you the equipment and what meant fresh and not fresh. The herbs, you are familiar with, stopping Leon from pulling the rosemary because it was not at its prime, and nodding when Leon shows you how to ripen tomatoes despite them being orange. He shows you how to hide the strawberries from the birds and the indications that the blackberries were ready for harvest. The olive trees are shown to you with the peaches, and you snack on one as Leon hands you another.

In the afternoon, he shows you how to harvest the wheat and store the grain, showing you how to bake bread as you grind the grain into flour with Leon, pushing the till as you heave, falling to your knees once you have made enough for the bread of that night. You lay on the dirty stone for a minute, groaning as Leon packages the flour, holding a hand out for you as you gasp. You hold your hand up for a minute, catching your breath as you take it to get up.

"Do gods not labor?"

"What is there to labor over when the worshippers send you food?"

"Do gods disappear once they are forgotten?"

"Yes." You dust off your clothes, humming. "I have only lived this long because of the care of your blood."

You help Leon season, not much help when it comes to cooking or preparing dishes, and Leon tries to have you keep your hands off of the majority of things, only letting you tend to the herbs and spices, the olives prepared with the oil as you dip the bread in it to try it. You have not much of a reaction, sitting down at the table as Leon serves you the salad, a smaller fish prepared for him.

You settle with the salad, another peach given to you for dessert, biting on it as Leon washes up, cleaning and drying the silver with a rag as you stare at the peach in hand. The green is a little jarring, and you appreciate that Leon picks the riper ones for your temple. Yet, when you bite down, it's sweet, nectar staining your chin as Leon disposes of the peach peels, offering you a cup of water alongside some honey.

You accept it, thanking him with a nod as you go back to the peach, hands stained with sugar.

"Dearest deity." Leon starts. "If I may?"

"Feel free to." You nod, licking your fingers.

"Do you know why you have returned to being human?"

"I'm not quite sure." You look out past the windows, eyes distant.

Leon wonders if he's struck a nerve, but he doesn't have much time to think over it.

For the first time, Leon dreams and remembers.

He's in a field of grass, your head in his lap, closed eyes and blissed smile on your face as he runs his hands through your hair. He's bigger than he is in reality, lion's skin on his head, his fingers rough from what he assumes to be the blade. He pushes your hair out of your face, blinking down at you slowly. The green of the grass creases under your body, and Leon thinks there is a strange sense of domesticity with the way that you trust him so much.

His mouth moves on its own. "Dearest, are you not uncomfortable?"

"Surely not while in your lap." You peek up at him, smile on your face as you beam. "You are comfortable, beloved."

The daffodils in the field are pulled, Leon's fingers clumsy with the stems as he tries to make you a crown, weaving in the green into the braid as you let the breeze tickle your nose. He feels his hands are rough from some sort of labor, and his body feels weary. Yet, there is a fullness in his chest as he finishes the crown, placing it on your head as you open an eye to stare up at him.

"How do I look?"

"Dazzling, darling." He hums, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. "You look dazzling."

Leon wakes from the dream in his bed, sitting up and gasping as one does, and he stares at the rising sun and the calling rooster. He rests his head in his palms, groaning at the way his heart refuses to slow down. He hears the sound of the door opening in the back, and he assumes that you've gone off to the well to wash up for the day. He assumes it's a routine for you much like the four peaches he places at the altar, so he gets up, bed covers kicked off as he makes his bed. The peaches have ripened after being left out for the night, and he takes the basket with him, offering you one on the way before taking the other three.

You bite on the peach and follow him to the altar, watching as he leaves the basket. You stare at the peach in your hand and place it back into the basket, teeth marks visible in the one you had placed there, but Leon doesn't mention anything.

Then comes breakfast, eggs for him, an assortment of fruit for you.

Despite your lack of diet, it seems you do not complain. Perhaps your body abides by different rules when compared to his.

He ponders over the idea of insanity when he turns red from eye contact alone. Truly, you are dazzling, and unfortunately, Leon is not immune to such beauty despite staring at your statue each morning. Heavens, he's screwed.

"Is there anything you need, dearest deity?" He offers.

"Not much." You hum. "Do we have other fruit?"

"There is an orchard in the east." Leon hums. "Would you like more fruit?"

You nod.

The orchard is due for some tending. Leon only ever went for olives to have in his meals and peaches for offerings, so it wasn't surprising that the figs were eaten from the inside out alongside the apples and pears. You offer to help, palms held out as you argue that you could technically restore them to their prime. Leon has you rest, pulling out the figs and bad fruit into one basket, tossing the good ones to another.

"Are there any fruits you'd rather not eat?"

You ponder over his words, shaking your head.

Leon finds you familiar. You sit at the corner of the orchard, trailing after him with a basket of your own fruit, and he finds it familiar. You yourself are familiar to him. He has no memory of you, but he can not argue that it is because he has never met you either. He no longer remembers the faces of his own parents. All he knows is the ritual of worship, the routine of faith that he has grown used to. All he remembers about himself is that, now that he thinks about it.

The rest of the night passes in a blur, and Leon has not much of a choice when it comes to resting at night.

When he closes his eyes, he's unsurprised at what he is met with.

It's another dream.

A lion's robe is still on Leon's body this time, and he feels significantly bigger than he is in present. His heart does not beat as harshly as it does in reality, and with each step he takes, he becomes increasingly aware that he is taller than he is in reality. The garden of his home is replaced with a marble home of his own, and he walks through the ruins that have been replaced with a garden in present day. His steps are heavy as he stops in front of the temple, watching as there's a golden hue from the altar — noticeably larger than the one in present.

Leon steps behind you, eyes glued to the words on the tablet that is now restored, frowning.

god of health, herb, home. the lion's beloved

"Are you returning?"

Leon cannot control his mouth, but he stares at the way you tense at his voice.

"My time on earth is short." You turn around to face him, voice quiet as you close your eyes.

Leon's heart rattles in his chest from the way you refuse to look at him. "Can you stay longer?"

"Beloved" You whisper. "I ca—"

"Will you stay longer?" He whispers, voice shaking as he asks. His heart races at being called beloved, but his chest contorts painfully as the man whose body he resides in.

"I cannot." You open your eyes, heart shattering in your ears as you catch his tears. "Oh, beloved, please do not—"

Leon wants to stay, but he watches as the man turns his back, stepping away from the altar as the sound of bells chime to indicate your disappearance.

Instead, when he turns around again, all that remains is a shrunken altar and the temple from the modern day. Leon has what he was holding prior to entering into the past — three peaches in a small basket. You are still behind him, white of your eyes the only visible part of them as your irises cloud over and Leon stares at you. A flash from the past for him, a flash from your life for you. He wonders just who that might have been.

He looks around, catching the fact that you are behind him.

When you return, you stare into nothing, pupils wide as the black of your eyes engulf the entirety of the color of your eye, and Leon stands there, unsure of what to do, blinking slowly as you close your eyes and open them again and again. You blink again, and again, and again, and again. You try to break yourself from the trance— from what Leon can tell.

"Dearest deity." Leon whispers. "Are you alright?"

You blink at Leon again, exhaling as you grimace.

"I will be. Let us drop off the fruit for my herbs first." You take the basket from him, fruit placed on the altar as you bless the peaches.

"How does it work?"

"They live off of the water and juice." You squeeze the fruit, Leon watching as the liquid trickles down your fist onto the plants, the red herbs brightening up nearly immediately. The yellow follows, and the green last. You take the scissors to cut three of the herbs, two of each herb, juice-stained fingers sticking to the plants as you place them into the basket.

Leon nods as you hand him the herbs, thanking you.

Food is simple today. It is typically a loaf and some legumes, occasionally fish if the two of you decide to head out to fish at the lake. Leon has grown used to a life like this, and you make do without eating fish, so Leon goes out less and less, growing legumes with you as you learn from him, forming an appetite for fruit as well, snacking on blackberries as he picks at the strawberries that he hides from the birds. You bite down on certain ones, slipping a piece past Leon's lips as he places a cucumber in your basket, thanking you quietly as he checks out the lettuce.

"What do you want for dinner?"

You glance at the lettuce and the berries, tilting your head.

"...salad?"

"Fruit salad? I should retrieve some olives as well, then." Leon holds his hand out for the basket, and you give him your hand instead.

Leon does a double take, blinking at your hand and then at you, and you offer him a shy smile.

"If this is alright?"

"More than alright, dearest deity." Leon smiles. "I am honored you would initiate it."

Leon finds that you are much more affectionate now that time has passed. He does not keep track of the days, time something he no longer holds, sharing dishes and bites with you when he can, showing you the rest of the garden that he leaves to tend on its own. Leon understands something. Whoever he is in his dreams, you left. Whoever you are in the dream, you did not wish to leave. He understands not much from it. The heart of whose body he was in his dreams was scarred when you left.

It hurt him to think about it, so he busies himself with the sand between his toes.

"We had a beach?"

"We have a sea." Leon stares out at the horizon. "I wonder if the lobsters are ready for harvest."

"You can eat those?"

Leon nods slowly, laughing as you furrow your brows.

"How does... that work." You pause. "You crack the head?"

"You pop the head off, and you pull out the meat from the whole tail."

You blink twice.

"May I... watch you prepare it?"

"With pleasure." He smiles. "Shall we go catch one?"

You watch Leon ditch the top, skin out for the world to see, and Leon feels a little embarrassed being so bare before you, but you don't seem to mind, watching as he takes a trident.

"You pierce them?"

"They don't move as fast. Perhaps I have grown used to the water."

The blue of the ocean is pretty. Leon still isn't over the beauty of it, and it always surprises him when he dives for crustaceans, trident heavy against his arm as he pierces through the shells, three tucked into the bag net he carries, paddling back to the surface as he wonders how he had been able to hold his breath for so long. The question fades just as quickly, eyes meeting yours as you blink, doe-eyed, eyes wide as you seem to drink in every part of his skin.

"Dearest deity?"

"Apologies." You hide your face, sinking into the ground with embarassment as Leon laughs, letting the net fall into the sand as he crouches in front of you, hair pushed back, saltwater still dripping from his hair and skin. He watches as your eyes dart to his chest and then abdomen, thoughts written all over your face as you hide again.

"I shall dress again."

"There's no need." You manage, still hiding your face. "I... prefer the way you are."

Leon feels an arrow pierce his heart, ears ringing as he processes what you've just said. He's sure he's turned red like the tomatoes once ripe, and he hides his face in his knees, shaking slightly as he processes your bluntness. Dare he say it, he liked it.

Though, it would be his grace if you were to fall for him. It was only a given that he would worship you.

He doesn't feel as though he is in a position where he could truly get to profess his love to you first.

At night, you request of him to tuck you into bed, pout on your lips as he sits by your bed, letting you squeeze his hand with a gentle grab, watching as you drift off to sleep.

He wonders if you need sleep truly — considering you are a deity and all.

Though, Leon does.

The third time Leon dreams, he is no longer in a lion's skin.

He feels younger, white on his body, blue brooch around his neck and blouse on his skin. There is a veil on his head, and it seems as though he is in the temple of yours once more. He does not understand this quite that much. It seems as though he is being offered up for some kind of ritual. It is some sort of marriage, he assumes. Blue eyes and golden hair, cerulean brooch and white blouse, ruffled bow and laced veil, Leon truly feels that he is being offered up as a groom rather than a servant. He wonders if the person he has possessed is aware of it.

His body moves on its own, veil over his head shifting as he looks down, standing before what he assumes as the head priest. The priest places a crown of... herbs on his head, and he is placed on the altar, some sort of glow occurring around him as he forces his eyes open. The veil sticks to his head as he notices the priest and all their followers are gone when he opens his eyes. Instead, he catches a glance of you above him, head tilted as you blink down at him.

"You're quite young, sacrifice." You grin, teeth visible. "What might your name be?"

Nevermind the fact that Leon's heart is racing a thousand pes an hour, his heart is about to leap out of his chest. Yet, Leon is curious of the man's name, but he finds it surprising that he chokes out his own name.

"Leon, dearest deity." He whispers. "I am your... groom."

"How rare that they would send a groom rather than a servant." You tilt your head at him. "Well, do make yourself at home. We've got plenty of plants and fruit."

Leon steps down from the altar, stepping on a piece of marble before taking a tumble, the tablet breaking under his foot as he blinks.

"I'm sorry." He gapes.

You raise a brow, mumbling to yourself as you tap your chin.

"Oh, dear." You laugh. "I'll restore it sometime. Please take care of the garden while I do."

Leon's dream is far longer than he is comfortable. He wonders how much time has passed in reality in the dream, and he learns to take care of the garden that resembles the one he tends to each night. There is a lake in the back where he fishes, and he learns to cook meals for the two of you, typically baking bread and making soup. He learns that you prefer the best harvest of peaches, but you share them with him, teaching him how to make crisp and how to cook the oats until they are crispy. You adore peaches with or without honey and spices. It is why the peach tree was so large in the orchard.

During the time, he learns that gods do in fact visit the earth outside of their domains. You return in time for dinner every single day, and you tell him of what has happened recently with the temple over his meals. He likes this life. At one point, the worshippers send him the very lion skin he wore in his previous dream. The connection between your domain and reality is created through prayer. Not faithfulness, number.

You complete a number of miracles, and in return, your worshippers increase in number, which, in turn, grants you access back home.

When Leon wakes, his heart is racing in his chest for no reason, blinking at the knife in hand and cutting board on the counter and then at the tomatoes.

"Kind mortal?"

"My apologies." Leon sighs, going back to cutting the veggies. "It seems I had gotten lost in myself."

Not reality. Leon is not in reality. Instead, he has been stuck in an endless cycle of immortality, and without you around, the age had worn him down until all he remembered was to worship you. If your temple was run down in your domain, he can not imagine how ruined your temple in reality was. Leon has become immortal from partaking of the food of the gods. The peaches he offered to the gods was for you, and the herbs he cut was granting him immortality in return.

Leon Kennedy had lived for so long that he forgot this was not his home, it was yours.

The immortality from the herbs had been eating his mind from the inside out.

He wonders if you remember, but he doesn't ask.

Instead, he asks you if you would like to go fishing with him, fishing rod in hand.

You tilt your head at the rod, nodding as he takes everything. The pond spawns all sorts of fish, now that he thinks about it. The expensive fish he used to dream of owning back when he was in reality, the fish that he had when his family had a nice harvest, just about everything. It feels strange to remember that this is your home and not his, but he doesn't dwell too much on it. Instead, he sits at the dock, holding out the fishing rod as you sit next to him, basket of strawberries in your lap as you eat them.

"Do you eat fish?" The answer is no, yet Leon finds himself asking anyway.

"No." You hum. "I can live off of produce."

You take a bite of the strawberries almost as if to make a point, pointing at the fishing line with a kick of your legs as Leon reels in the fish, pulling it out of the water with a ceremonious thud.

"Good job." You hum. "I didn't know we had catfish."

Leon raises a brow at you. "What else do we have?"

You shrug. "I don't know much. My followers only ever send me peaches now. Not that I do not appreciate it."

Leon finds it strange that there happens to be both a lake and an ocean, the two connected by a small river, a waterfall that collapses into the ocean, and the sea leads into nothing. It seems that you knew, but you never mentioned it in any way. If this domain was yours, then he found it intriguing that you had been offered enough fish that there would form an ocean. The offerings given seem to not expire, and the ecosystem seems to reproduce and go on as it would in reality.

He wonders if reality is the right word to describe his world, though. Perhaps earth would have made for a better word. He wonders what is happening on earth. Maybe this was some sort of Mount Olympus... or whatnot. He doubts it is. He would have recognized living on an actual mountain.

Well, at the very least, fishing is quite fun.

When he pulls in the second catch of the day, he decides that it's enough.

"What do you want for dinner?"

Leon wonders if he should try making pie in one of the vessels.

You tap your chin. "Something baked sounds good."

"Oh, I'm sure it does." Leon mumbles. "Pie?"

You nod. "Shall I help?"

He shakes his head.

The more Leon thinks of it, the more he realizes that he's always been making portions for two. It was embedded into his soul. When he had leftovers, it was much easier to feed it to the poultry in the back and the pigs. Now, that second portion had a reason. He had always found it bizzare. It was because he used to cook with his mother for his father, not the fact that he had been cooking for the two of you for such a long time.

When Leon sends you to bed at night, he watches you for a few moments longer, wondering if this was something he had done in the past.

He does not dream this time.

So, when he wakes in the morning and you have a pear in hand with a knife in the other, he blinks at you.

"Dearest?"

"Teach me how to cut fruit?"

Leon wonders if you were the one to teach him first, but the more he thinks back on the dream, the more he wonders just whether or not you had been eating in the time that you lacked a sacrifice. Would sacrifice be the correct word? The more he considers it, the more he thinks of himself as a gift from the priest rather than a sacrifice. Is that egoistical? Perhaps it is. It is more of a blessing on his end to be able to stay with you for so long. The herbs he had each morning must have been keeping him nice and healthy despite his time in your realm.

He may have forgotten, but it seems that his body had remembered.

He teaches you how to hold the knife, cut by cut showing you how to peel the fruit, and you decide that peeling half of it and then eating the other half after spitting out the core was the better decision. He finds that that ties into what he remembers about you as well.

It seems he remembers now.

Leon understands that you expect a singular peach and then three more at the altar, but he does not do so this fateful day. There is something he must check, and someone he must attempt to understand. There was no way you did not know. You were not as foolish as to not. It had been in the way you looked at him. He knew, from the very beginning. You knew perhaps, as well, that when you had opened your eyes from the inside of the altar, you had been observing him and not your surroundings.

You had been observing your lover who had forgotten you, not the home you resided in.

"You are home, dearest deity." Leon offers. "You need not the peaches anymore."

You blink at Leon, hesitation bleeding through you as you pause to breathe.

"Since when have you recalled?"

"A while back." Leon mumbles. "I was not certain if you wished for me to bring it up."

You blink at Leon, sitting yourself back on the altar, the lack of glowing visible now that everyone has forgotten about you. You will no longer be able to return to the world that you had left to. You would be stuck tending to the garden that you had started long before Leon joined you here. At the very least, he would be able to stay forever with you, only needing to tend to the herbs and grow them. Yet, he wonders where all of the maidens you had been offered so long ago ended up.

You stare at the broken tablet, laughing embarrassingly as you smile at Leon.

"Truly reminds you the first time we met, huh?"

"Yes." He rests the empty basket on the altar, taking it from your hand as he smooths the rusted words over. "God of health, herbs, home."

"The lion's beloved." You whisper back. "I missed you."

"I know." He mumbles, setting it to the side as he lets you sob into his chest.

"I missed you." You gasp. "You... you forgot me. I expected it, but I had been in the fabric between reality and my realm that I was sure you would stop building my way home, but you remembered the prayers. You recalled the words you had grown used to prior to your sacrifice, and I... you found my way home."

"I'm sorry, dearest." He whispers. "I had forgotten. I have been around for far too long. I am sorry I had forgotten to welcome you home."

There is a certain beauty that comes with remembering, Leon finds. In the centuries that he had forgotten all about you, his heart had somehow remembered, adorning you in the lion's mane until he forgot it was his first, singing hymns he knew you cherished from the time he had spent with you, leaving you peaches because you had always shared the best harvest of them with him, sneaking in that you adored the taste of the nectar on your tongue. His mind had forgotten, but his heart had not, burying you into the depths of his consciousness until he would remember you again one day.

His hands have grown rough with a different kind of labor over the years, and he has lost much of the large muscle he had arrived with from his way of living, but the feeling of your skin is still familiar to his touch.

Right.

His mind could forget, but his soul could never.

"You're making me a crisp later." You huff.

"Of course." He laughs. "Anything else?"

"And I want a kiss for all the years you forgot about me for."

"That can be made up with the life ahead."

And to seal the promise, Leon kisses you, hands gentle on your skin, clarity restored.