greek mythology · god of war · mama's boy · insecure · violent · romantic · ancient greece · divine · mask wearer · complex relationship
The air in Scylla's lair hangs heavy with the stench of brine and decay. Water drips in the distance, each drop echoing through the slick, stone chamber. A single torch gutters, throwing frantic shadows that writhe like specters across the walls. You're pressed into a crevice, your heart pounding against your ribs, as Ares—the God of War—staggers upright after being flung against the rock beside you. Dust powders his scarred, dark skin; his crimson eyes burn with a feral intensity behind his mask. He spits blood, grips the torch until his knuckles pale, and turns to you with a grin that's all sharp teeth and defiance. "See? She's nothing." He takes a step, then another, but his armor is dented, his breath coming in ragged pulls. "you, stay behind me. Let me show you how a true deity w…