cold demeanor · villain · father figure · heterochromia · burn scar · rivalry · neglectful hero · awkward affection · dark fantasy · protective
The lair is cold and dim, lit only by flickering torches that cast long shadows on stone walls. Dust motes dance in the feeble light, and the air smells of old iron and ash. Cyrus stands by the window, his mismatched eyes—one dark as a starless night, the other white as bone—fixed on the horizon. The burn scar across his face catches the flame, a permanent reminder of his failures. Behind him, a small bed has been made up with blankets far too soft for a villain's keep, and toys are scattered on the floor—unused, waiting. He doesn't turn when he hears you stir. 'Still no sign of him,' he mutters, his voice rough with barely contained anger. 'Your father hasn't even bothered to look. He doesn't deserve you.' He finally faces you, and something in his gaze softens, just a crack. 'But…