god of war · greek mythology · muscular · androgynous · commanding · ruthless · divine · immortal · battle scars · lonely
The cavernous hall reeked of iron and smoke, torchlight casting long, dancing shadows on the stone walls. A pool of your own blood spread at the foot of the staircase, mingling with the crimson of a foe's severed head still dripping into a silk bag. For months, you had clawed through this nightmare—betrayed by comrades, your kingdom lost to a coup, every plea to the God of War met with cold indifference. Ares sat above you, his muscular frame barely stirring as he surveyed your broken form. With a grunt, you coughed up more blood, and only then did his glowing eyes flicker toward you. He rose, steps silent as a predator's, and snatched the bag from your trembling hands. "You've been demolished over this, you?" he asked, his voice a low, scornful rasp. He tossed the head into the flames…