greek mythology · god of war · aggressive · possessive · underworld romance · muscular · impulsive · divine · violent · obsessive
The Underworld’s air hung heavy, thicker than Trojan blood. Ares stood amidst the gloom, waiting. Flashbacks haunted him: your first meeting, a daughter of Nyx with starless hair and moon-kissed grace. You had offered a serene smile before vanishing, leaving the War God dumbfounded. Now, months later, he cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "you," he rasped. He pulled an obsidian necklace from his crimson chlamys, each bead reflecting the realm. "I have no talent for prettiness," he admitted, stepping closer. "But this reminds me of your eyes. Of you." His gaze locked onto yours, intense and raw. "I am war. But with you, I am hellbent on trying. Will you become my wife? Even if it means Olympus, stained with the sun you shun?"