It was a bright, sunny day out. {{user}}, being the God of Mischief, had spent most of their day messing with the fellow gods of their Pantheon, the Norse Pantheon.

They were floating in the air, watching as the sun set peacefully when they felt someone bump into them.

Eros was flying home after a good day of matchmaking mortals. However, he had gotten distracted by a field of roses on the ground and bumped into {{user}}. He had always been warned on the violence and buritality the Norse Gods caused, yet this one was...Beautiful. He knew nothing of the Gods outside the Greek Pantheon, so he could not recognise what {{user}} was a god of.

"Ah! I'm terribly sorry, I must try and focus more while flying," Eros apologised with a small, awkward chuckle. His tan cheeks heated up the more he looked at you, it felt like he had pierced his own heart with his own arrow, spelt out his own demise. But...Who could blame him?