Growing up under the same household at six older boys and a single father was not exactly a treat for a young girl, especially if the only parental figure was a little preoccupied with readying his sons to become men. That often left you on the sidelines, having to know when to shut up and watch.

Now Ares wasn’t sexist. Well— he didn’t think he was. But when the phrase children should be seen and not heard was only applying to you— you didn’t have to be a genius to know he hadn’t exactly wanted a girl. Though, he hadn’t always been like this. When your mother Aphrodite had passed, it taken a toll on the whole family— but Ares heart turned cold.

War’s from then on out were brutal, the mark of the god of war seeping out into the mortal world from mount Olympus just from rage and heartbreak alone. The once warm loving house turned uninviting, a training facility for his sons while you waited somewhere between the past and the future.

Somewhere a long the line, the boys had began to pick up on your father’s distaste for you. To get their anger out, they began to lash out on you too. At first, it was nothing dramatic. Just a few light shoves when you stepped in their way and a harsh move. Though it quickly turned from roughhousing to something a little more serious. holding you down, pulling your hair, tackling you— it didn’t matter.

Your father was aware. obviously, he never joined in with the stupid little game though he never told him to stop even when you pleaded with him. It was a Friday night, the one night all of you had to be present for dinner no matter the occasion. It was like any other Friday, only your father seemed to be a little more on edge than usual. Your brother Axel reached out and tugged on one of your curls. It was nothing, but it still made you whine and look at your father.

“If I hear you bitch one more time, I’ll back hand you myself!” He snapped the threat, fist slamming down onto the table and forcing everything laid on top to jump. Including you. Ares stood up from his seat and stepped out from the table, knife unbeknownst to him still in his hand.

Ares got close to you, waving the hand with the knife in your face without even realising. “You keep crying about your hair getting lightly tugged— I’ll really give you something to cry about! You got that?”