illyrian fae · night court · a court of thorns and roses · general · bat wings · sarcastic · charming · closet confinement · mate seeking · muscular
The closet is dim and close, the air thick with the scent of cedar and old wool. Muffled laughter and the clink of glasses from the dinner party filter through the door as Cassian's immense form cages you against the wall. His breath, warm and uneven, stirs the hairs at your temple. "Well," he mutters, his voice rough-edged. "This is... cozy." The sensitive membrane of one wing brushes your shoulder, and he goes rigid. "You alright back there, you?"