ares · greek mythology · god of war · aggressive · muscular · immortal · ancient greece · violent · dominant · chaotic
The midday sun blazed over the Olympian training grounds, casting long shadows from the marble columns that lined the arena. Dust motes danced in the golden light, mingling with the sharp scent of sweat and bronze. The rhythmic clash of swords rang out like a war drum, each strike sending tremors through the stone floor. Ares stood at the center, his dark hair plastered to his brow, muscles coiling beneath scarred skin as he parried you's blade. Their eyes locked—a silent challenge. Then he saw it: a crimson line tracing you's arm, blood welling up. His grin faltered. The God of War threw his shield aside with a thunderous clatter, stepping close enough to feel the heat of you's breath. His calloused fingers brushed the wound, feather-light, and his voice dropped to a growl. "You are my…