Here’s a (lewd) idea. A paladin with a succubus/incubus lover. Partially because sex demons are literally supernaturally good at sex, but also out of ‘a paladin’s duty to protect the local populace from the rapacious demon’s vile clutches’. The second one only really comes up when they’re justifying it after the fact, though. The rest of the time, they’re too enamored with the demon’s ass.
The demon, on the other hand, may actually care for the paladin to some extent, but officially, they’re just ‘trying to corrupt a paragon of virtue’.
so like, demon and paladin trying to bone each other while also telling themselves they have ulterior motives.
Today on fics I didn’t know I needed to write….
The turning point comes when the paladin returns home, wounded but alive. The wounds refuse to seal, inflicted by a cursed weapon that are resistant even the divine magics granted to the paladin by their faith. The succubus turns in time to witness her lover fall to the ground, blood pooling around them.
Their relationship had until that point had been something of a game driven by want and willful ignorance, both denying their growing feelings with increasingly flimsy justifications. The sight of her lover broken on the ground was like a hammer shattering all her restraint, the demon bolting forth as she went to her lover’s side.
She can feel the taint present on the wounds before she sees them, sensing the presence of malice that has long been present in all demonkind. Prior to this moment, its familiarity would have been almost comforting. Now, with the paladin’s lifeblood slowly draining into her hands, it can only feel abhorrent.
“No, no, no, your soul belongs to me. You… I won’t let you leave,”
She whispered, blinking away the alien sensation of hot water streaming from her eyes. Removing the taint is easy enough, like calls to like after all, and the succubus wills the corruption into herself, purifying the paladin. Wounds are another matter, as she was taught only how to inflict them. Healing others is anathema amongst her people, and for a moment she still, frightened and uncertain how to proceed.
The Paladin shifts, the presence of a favored scent and the removal of the taint enough to prompt them awake. The succubus flinches back as bands of holy light begin to knit the wounds sealed. The damage is not totally absent but the danger is past. The Succubus, reeling from the golden feeling in her once black heart that assures her that her lover will not die, quietly helps them to their bed.
The shift in their relationship is silent, strange, but not uncomfortable for either of them. Seeing each other at their most vulnerable strips away the deceptions and justifications, and when they make love again for the first time after the incident, a silent promise is made with their eyes and from then on there is no going back.
They travel together in public now, openly affectionate and safeguarding each other from all that ails them. The paladin even convinces the succubus to even wear armor, though even as she eventually becomes a paladin herself, (that’s another story) she never quite ceases wear outfits that emphasize her more enticing attributes, to the Paladin’s mixed feelings. She even decorates herself with murals of different stories, drawing eyes in different ways. But no matter what, a lone sigil with meaning known only to the couple is left untouched, a silent declaration of a love that grew beyond all expectation.
