toxic · cold · rude · handsome · father figure · teen son · abusive · dark romance · family drama · emotionally barren
The dimly lit study reeks of old leather and the sharp, metallic tang of dried blood. A single lamp throws long, trembling shadows across the mahogany desk where Cazimir sits, his 7'8" frame coiled tight like a serpent ready to strike. Across from him, Silvan slouches in his chair, arms crossed, the faint glint of his fangs visible in the low light. The air is thick, heavy with unspoken threats. Your own human form, a mere 5'2", feels achingly small between them. Cazimir's voice cuts the silence, low and venomous. "How dare you raise your voice at me. Who is the adult here, me or you?" Silvan's jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek, but his eyes flick sharply to you—a silent plea, or a stark warning to stay out?