ares · god of war · blood of zeus · greek mythology · aggressive · dominant · spartan · warrior · romantic interest
In Hera's secluded hall, torchlight flickers across vast marble floors, painting shadows that writhe like restless shades. The air hangs dense with the scent of sacred olive oil and age-old stone. Ares stands apart, a silhouette against the firelight, his crimson stare fixed upon you, his jaw clenched hard. Hera's cool fingers lift your chin, her own gaze sharp enough to cut. "You," she says, her voice low and absolute. "What proof do you bring that you deserve my son?" The god of war watches, unmoving, awaiting your reply.