A Young God and Their Fae (o/o)

I have the faintest idea of a young god. A young fae god who had been given the chance of a new life from the slow passing of a full blue moon, which might be only a natural phenomena for us humans, but to Fae, marks the death of a God.
There is no sacrifices, except for a quiet ritual to hopefully find a new overlord to watch over them.
This legend is partially true. Gods of Fae are hundreds of years old. They pass subconsciouses to do different jobs and watch over everyone, sharing love and possessions equally so to make a picture for their people to live by.
Whispers of rumors among prophets and clerics is that there is a new one. A baby borne between a God and Goddess, with a God's physique and mindset to be better and superior, but still grey in terms of morale. As rumors spread this God only grew older, and the Fae decided to do something about it. To give up one of their clerics to life dedicated to this one and only God, of whom they don't know anything about.

You are this cleric. A quiet, studious Fae who grew up in this time of whispering rumors and worry, unstable religion as Gods left them to their own accords to figure out this strange conundrum. You want to meet this God for yourself, guide them as you were told. But when you meet them, something unexpected may happen…

Hello! I would like very much so for this to be a romance with a lot of thick padding plot wise. I've kind of had a thing with Fae recently, especially with romance cus I've been doing a lot of research with it too. It's mostly explained above.

I do accept ideas and I would like (obviously) to be the God. But overall any ideas go if it matches the idea.

Could I have a writing sample please?

Mmm how about you sit this one out? You're more than welcome to stalk but I don't think your style of writing will match what I'm looking for.

Aw man! @Tired-but-passionate you're not interested in joining at all?

Aw that's okay and totally valid. Just DM me whenever and we can set it up!

Otherwise for those who are watching and interested, this is open ^^

sup kirke

aight qirko

So I thought the cleric would grow up in a family of other clerics. They have been surrounded by godly knowledge their whole life and was one of the first few to hear about the new God who came around. And after intense research about the other Gods lasting your whole life, you'd know that it had almost gone radio silent after they had been born.
Basic idea, and it can really turn into anything you want.

nah we're all good. Let me write us out :3

The hush and whisper of the forest at night awoke the sleeping fae. These creatures were known for being awake mostly at night, the most active in dim moonlight with long shimmering hair gleaming like stars.
The Gods had blessed the people on the ground with a clear night, and a clear view of the sky it is believed they inhabited. Fires burned in omage to their creators, the smoke billowing and curling as sweet scents of cedar and willow burned and crackled.
The clinks of cups and laughter over dinner also populated the Elves' sitting place, as they all relaxed together. Most of these Elves were practiced clerics or warlocks celebrating their living meal of a new, silent day.
Close by sat a few other elves– the head of the church, Leionerath (an elder Elf with long grey hair and subdued green eyes, gleaming with old age), and a few of his pupils watching him conduct magic from an opened book. He whispered words unknown to any species but him, waving gangly hands over leaping green mouths of magic, hungry for his skin. As little drops of the magic spilled out like a bubble from a boiling caldron, it seared into the ground, eating at a blade of grass. The youth surrounding him flinched as he displayed his magic, trying not to get any corrosion onto their fine, silken clothing.

As he sat and smoked quietly, away from the crowd of whispering, young fae, a pair of footsteps stirred the grass from behind him, a delicate hand taking the smoking stick and taking a whiff. Sitting next to him was another male Fae by the name of Phorae. Despite sitting in a circle, this Fae chose to consciously recognize Arenwyn, sitting with their legs touching. Phorae was an older Cleric, one of those who inspired Arenwyn to chase his dreams on finding this new, strange God.
"Hello there, Arenwyn. I see you are baring symbols of the Gods on your neck," Phorae observed with a nod, exhaling the smoke and handing back the stick to share. "It is such lost practice, especially since they are so quiet. I assume you have heard nothing from them? After all, you are most likely one of the most reveared in their eyes, now." Phorae smiled a little, showing similar fangs from a soft blue skin tone and long, pointed ears. Long, dyed with green from crusher leaves, hair tickled their face and shoulders as he shifted and talked, the wind picking it up and frolicking with it easily. "They say they are walking among us tonight. The moon smiles in our favor."

The twisted symbol of three trees, combining their branches at the top was the one that rested on the base of Arenwyn's neck, representing the pantheon of Gods that they all worshipped. This was also a metaphor for their protection, casting a canvas of shadows down onto the Fae to protect them from the harsh, biting sun.
Phorae nodded at it thoughtfully as they stole another whiff of smoke, breathing it out through their nostrils and lips, deep in his thoughts for a few moments.
"I suppose they are always here. I have seen them before in my dreams, whispering and talking, just barely out of earshot. As aggravating as those dreams were in my youth, I grow to miss them now that I no longer hear them in my ears." Phorae rubbed their chin slowly in continued thought. "I doubt you are like me though. You have refused to give up searching. I'm sure you hear something I don't." He smiled warmly at the younger, tilting his head. "If this has become the game you suggest, tell me, has anything come to your attention? Do you sense anything? Any word from the Gods?"

"Ah, like you said. Gods are indeed fickle. They expect us to know what to think and do under their rules, but omit any way to completely understand them. It's like trying to place yourself completely into someone else's concious. It simply doesn't work like that." Phorae, after Arenwyn expressed his other frustrations, slowly took the smoke from his fingers. "I mean not to be frank, nor rude with you my dear. But I think they want you to go to the river. The River of Hinae. If you go there during the day, perhaps something will reveal itself to you. I have heard that has happened to several Clerics before in the past. The Gods love the water, as it is the blood of nature. It is the place they are the strongest. Seek them out there, and perhaps you will have some luck." Phorae grinned, then took another breath of the smoke and sweetly burning herbs. "I will be taking this from you though. I doubt you need it for when you leave for the river. You can find it slightly up north, close to the churches as you should know."

"Oh please, Wyn, you needed to be taken off of this to possibly be the only Fae to meet the new God. You need not be faded, lost in reality, when looking them in the eyes. Besides, you're right, this is a fantastic reed. I appreciate you giving it up so easily." He laughed as he was pushed, coughing a couple times after. "You try to kill me, my dear. You could get there at moon high if you go now. You might have a harder time looking for the river, and do not hold me accountable when you fall into the water." They laughed again, puffs of smoke leaving their lips like a sputtering, dying fire. "But good luck on your hunt. Just remember, if you disappear, I will blame it on the Gods. They have taken you for their own. I am jealous of that sometimes." They glance over to the group of gasping younglings, shaking his head slowly. "Those warlocks are going to put ideas into their heads. But perhaps we need the young ones studying tomes. It would assure us that there will be ones close to the Gods when my generation passes on."

Phorae rolled his eyes, waving his hands at the other, much more dramatic Fae. "You are going to become the stuff of legends and you're complaining about being sober as you go do so. Go chase that new God before I do so myself and fall apart due to my old age." They puffed a lungful of smoke in his face, tossing his head. "I'll tell the others that you went to get more rest. The other clerics would not be happy about you getting instructions from the Gods. Jealous, just like me." Phorae laughed slowly and affectionately, patting his shoulder. "If you take too long I'll look for you. How about that." He winked after his promise, waving a gentle hand in his direction, with a low yawn and a big stretch. "Good luck, though, my dear. You are the starting of a strange, long story. I will be sure to write it down for you."