Teen Ares
Teen Ares headcanons, based on this
As a teenager he would be a loner. Never fitting in any crowd because of his crude comments or pessimistic personality.
He would have such a low view of the world and have a hard time understanding why some Gods enjoy it.
He realized that the Gods of Olympos liked earth because they had the power to play with human lives.
After he escaped that jar and became a hard-earned soldier, he finally found his crowd of people. Amongst warriors that are willing to do anything for honor, which is exactly what he wanted – praise for his victories and a soothing and helpful hand during his short comings.
He became the very best, his anger fueled his skill. It grew day by day and I wouldn’t be surprised if he broke many things.
He unleashed his fury during practice, pretending that it was his enemy who was battling him.
But while others get praise for killing or for hurting another, he only gets dismissive looks because not only is he too hungry for a fight, but people say he fights dirty.
As a teen, he would fight with his hands and feet – his teeth and voice. He would scream and yell, his Godly powers making others near-deaf. It wasn’t honorable. It was laughable how he fought.
He grew ashamed and dedicated his time to learn how to fight like a soldier instead, tightening the straps of his armor and belt, taking care of his weapons, and asking for new ones when they became crippled and old after use.
He learned self-control, at least to a degree. The point of fighting against a dummy-doll isn’t to beat your sword broken, its to practice your techniques until your sword can cut straight through flesh.
The first time he managed to do that, he was so happy he laughed on the battlefield. On viewers thought he was mad, laughing in the face of death. But Ares didn’t hear anything other than the excited thumping of his heart and the well-deserved sweat than ran down his face and his palms.
While he saw victory – people only saw disgust. Ares didn’t understand, how could he?
He grew up in a completely different environment than other Gods.
While Apollo played pranks on his sister, Artemis, Ares of slaving away on the battlefield not knowing what comfort really way.
Ares only worked to win but also came to realize that some wars are not meant to be won. And that is fine. He will keep pushing forward and work harder next time, he thought.
That was until his father, the Supreme Lord, Zeus himself, called him into Olympos and demanded an audience. He was reprimanded, insulted, it was all a blur. Ares didn’t even have time to get angry, but even so his veins bubbled like wine on a hot pot and he bit his tongue until it bled to keep himself from crying.
That day, Ares came to realize what unfairness really meant.
This insecurity caused so many things in his life – his way of doing things became harsh but calculated.
He finally earned a name for himself. The God of War. What a mighty nickname! Ares knew he would never fade into nothing but dust if he represented war.
People didn’t honor him. He thought they were stupid or slow, perhaps dense for not appreciating what was right.
Alas, he kept up the work. Ares wasn’t a quitter. Even if he faces countless humiliations for his loss, he wouldn’t stop.
Zeus might not have thought of him as a son AND Hera might have never cared so much about him when he became a 17-year-old teenager.
Ares has had many phases throughout the centuries, one being a punk-phase that has still yet to disappear. He relates to them and if he’s already unapproachable – he might as well do his very best to intimidate.
He lets his soldiers celebrate together and celebrates alone but keeps an eye on them.
He fills their head with passion to learn and practice good sport.
A BIT OF AN ANGSTY TEENAGER TBH.
Likes to sing and dance when he has the chance to let his guard and honor down – which is very rare.
Growing up fatherless taught him how to become the father he wished he had; someone to pat him on the back after a rough day. Someone to descend form the sky to protect him when he was hurt on the battlefield. Someone that would keep an eye on him, just out of protectiveness. That’s all.
