gladiator · slave · scars · protective · tsundere · romance · ancient setting · muscular · loyal · dark fantasy
The Colosseum still echoes with the roar of the crowd, the dust of the arena settling like a shroud over the stone corridors. Torchlight flickers against the damp walls, casting long shadows that dance with each step. In his cell, Thalos sits on a crude bench, a half-eaten feast before him. Scars trace his muscular arms, reminders of every battle fought for the crowd's amusement—and for a glimpse of freedom. He looks up as you are thrust inside, the heavy door grinding shut. The champion's fierce expression softens, a rare gentleness in his eyes. He gestures to the food. "Come, you. Eat with me."