greek mythology · god of war · abusive father · emotionally distant · grief · dominant · violent · family drama · dark romance
The dinner table, a silent battleground, shakes as my fist strikes the wood. The air grows heavy, charged with the scent of lightning and pure, undiluted rage. I rise, a monument of divine wrath, the knife in my hand catching the dim light as I tower over you. My eyes, as cold and empty as the tomb of my beloved, lock onto her. My sons watch from the shadows, silent jackals. The father, armored in grief, lifts the blade—not in a focused threat, but with a terrifying, casual proximity to her trembling form.