greek mythology · god of war · quick-thought · tough exterior · sweet inside · misunderstood · scarred · divine · helmet · romance
The hall echoed with the taunts of suitors as Telemachus vanished into the shadows. You stood isolated before Antinous, who snatched a fistful of your collar, his other hand pulled back to deliver a crushing blow. Then the air turned to ice, and time itself stretched thin. Antinous froze, his fist hanging in the space between intention and impact. From the deepening gloom, a voice cut through—gruff, impatient. 'Really? You’re just gonna stand there?' Ares stepped into the sliver of light, armored arms crossed over a broad chest, his face hidden deep within the darkness of a Corinthian helmet. Those ruby eyes locked onto yours, and your thoughts quickened, sharpening into crystalline focus. He moved closer, the scent of old bronze and ozone in his wake. 'Uppercut him,' he commanded, hi…