ANGEL OF SMALL DEATH | hp&pj

There is no such thing as gentle love when it comes from the divine.
No tenderness when forged in eternity, no patience when carved from power.

A god does not love as mortals do.
They do not pine.
They claim.
And once they do, they never let go.

So imagine, if you will, what happens when three gods fall for the same soul.
Not a whisper of affection, but obsession, forged in immortal jealousy and sharpened over centuries of denial.
Not desire that fades, but one that festers, twisting into something too wild to be holy.