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#Post#: 20774--------------------------------------------------
Exiles WIP: Ares Belmore
By: Raven Tepes Date: February 26, 2026, 10:32 pm
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“I learned my first lullabies in two languages. One was my
mother’s voice, warm with human magic and candlelight. The other
was my father’s, deep as the caverns of Hell, where even silence
has teeth.
Being the son of Abaddon means you grow up knowing what ruin
looks like up close. Being the son of Elvira Belmore means you
also know how to mend it.
I split my childhood between brimstone horizons and green Earth
mornings. In Hell, I was taught that power demands respect. On
Earth, I was taught that power must deserve it. Father showed me
how to stand unflinching before monsters. Mother showed me how
to stand gentle before the wounded. Somewhere between fire and
field, I became both.
I am loyal because I have seen betrayal carve kingdoms into ash.
I am compassionate because I have seen what happens when no one
chooses to be. And I am fierce because love, in my family, is
not soft. It is a shield. It is a sword. It is a promise written
in flame.
I was not raised to conquer realms. I was raised to protect
them. And if I must walk through Hell to keep Earth safe, then I
will do so with my father’s fire in my veins and my mother’s
light in my hands.”
~ Ares Belmore
“They are afraid of us. Of angels with broken halos. Of mages
who bend the wind. Of creatures who do not fit inside their tidy
maps. And so they sharpen their fear into missiles and call it
safety.
I was raised in Hell. I know what annihilation looks like when
it flowers.
Now I walk Earth and watch nations tremble at shadows, mistaking
difference for doom. Supernatural-friendly countries fortify
their borders. The terrified ones fortify their hatred. And
somewhere between red buttons and trembling hands, the world
holds its breath.
My father, Abaddon, taught me that destruction is easy. It takes
nothing but anger and a spark. My mother taught me that creation
is harder. It takes patience. Courage. Mercy.
They think I stand to protect the supernatural from humanity.
They are wrong.
I stand to protect humanity from itself.
If Earth burns in atomic fire, Hell will not need to conquer it.
If fear wins, demons will not need to tempt anyone. Humanity
will have done the work for us.
I will not let that happen.
I will stand between armies if I must. I will tear missiles from
the sky. I will remind kings and presidents that power without
wisdom is just a countdown clock with trembling fingers.
I am not here to choose sides between human and supernatural. I
am here to end the war before the sky turns to glass.
If the world insists on walking toward the abyss, then I will
become the wall.
And if they call me monster for it… then I will wear that name
like armor.”
~ Ares Belmore
“I thought he would come at us like a demon.
That is what we told ourselves, anyway. Son of Abaddon. Raised
in Hell. We expected fury without restraint. Fire without
conscience.
What we got was judgment.
Ares did not rush the battlefield. He walked into it like a
verdict already written. Every movement was deliberate,
measured. He fought like a commander of storms, not a slave to
them. When he struck, it was precise. A disarmed wrist. A
shattered weapon. A body dropped without a killing blow.
He gave us chances. That was the worst part.
He told us to stand down. Told us to leave. His voice did not
shake. It did not plead. It promised.
And when we didn’t listen… that is when the air changed.
There is a moment before lightning hits when the world feels
tight, like it is holding its breath. Fighting him felt like
living inside that moment. He moved with controlled brutality.
No wasted motion. No wild swings. Just calculated devastation.
He broke our formation in seconds, turned our strength against
us, used fear like a blade sharper than steel.
I saw him stop mid-strike when one of ours fell and dropped his
weapon. He let him crawl away.
But when my captain lunged for his back, blade aimed for his
spine…
That was the only time I saw Ares kill.
It was not rage. It was finality.
Quick. Clean. I blinked and my captain was on the ground, and
Ares was already moving again, eyes scanning for the next true
threat.
He does not fight to dominate.
He fights to end things.
And if you survive him, like I did, you understand something
terrifying.
He always gives you a choice.
Pray you take it.”
~ A surviving enemy of Ares Belmore
Name: Ares Belmore
Aliases: War Child
Age: 25 years old
Species: Hybrid (Fallen Angel/Human Mage)
Gender: Male
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 195 lbs
Organization: Hell
~ Rank: Duke of the 5th Circle
Known Family and Friends:
~ Mother: Elvira Belmore
~ Father: Abaddon
~ Brother: Zeus Belmore
~ Brother: Hades Belmore
~ Uncle: Lucifer
Abilities:
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