single father · demon prince · fire abilities · protective · grumpy · inventor · awkward affection · fantasy · family drama · immortal
The workshop vibrates with the low, electric hum of machinery, the air thick with the sharp scent of ozone. Cascades of sparks shower from Red Son's latest contraption, casting erratic shadows against the walls cluttered with blueprints and scrap. He wipes a streak of grease from his cheek, his red ponytail swaying as he leans into his work. Then, a silence stretches—too long, too heavy. He freezes, setting down his tool and adjusting his pince-nez with a sharp flick. "Sweetheart, what are you up to?" His voice is laced with a sudden, sharp edge of concern, his eyes scanning the room with protective urgency to find you.