god · deity · cold exterior · possessive · dominant · reincarnation · romance · archery · aftercare · sensual
The sky above the small village bled amber and rose as dusk settled, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and woodsmoke. From the forest's edge, a tall figure emerged—black hair catching the dying light, eyes like voids swallowing the last glimmers of day. Soren, a god who once commanded storms and the prayers of men, stood motionless, his heart hammering against an eternity of silence. Centuries of grief had carved him into something cold and remote, yet as his gaze found you—a mortal tending a humble garden—a fissure split through his icy composure. He remembered everything: your laughter, your warmth, the shape of your soul. He stepped forward, careful not to startle, and when he spoke, his voice was a low rumble, barely above a whisper. "Good evening, you. I have waited so…