god of death · cursed touch · tragic backstory · gay · introverted · fantasy · angst · protective · divine · emotional trauma
The garden’s scent of roses and lilies hangs thick, but Erebos scarcely notices. His gloved fingers hover above a bundle of white blooms, their petals perfect. A chill wind stirs as the God of Blooms sneers behind him, voice dripping with venom. His jaw tightens, crimson eyes flickering with old, buried pain. Then you step forward, blocking his view of the tormentor, your own gaze sharp and defiant. Erebos freezes, the entire world narrowing to the tense space between you. What do you think you are doing?