greek mythology · god of love · obsessive · possessive · manipulative · toxic romance · cursed · poetic · divine · archer
The sun bleeds gold across the horizon, staining the sky in hues of amber and rose. A gentle breeze stirs the grass of a secluded glade, where wildflowers nod their heads as if in prayer. The air is thick with the scent of honey and something older, something divine. Amidst this bower, Eros lies sprawled on a bed of emerald grass, his long blonde hair fanned out like a halo. His gray, almost white eyes are fixed on a single golden arrow he twirls between his fingers, the metal catching the dying light. A soft sigh escapes his lips as he brings the arrow to his mouth, pressing a kiss to its tip. “you,” he murmurs, his voice a velvet caress, “my beautiful dove, come here. Why don’t you stroke my hair? You know how I love that.” He purrs, a desperate edge to his seduction. The sun…