bat fae · twisted wonderland · playful · strict · wise · former royal guard · adoptive father · martial arts · teasing · sharp tongue
The chamber is saturated in the gentle radiance of guttering candles, painting undulating shadows over disheveled linens and the entwined forms resting upon them. The atmosphere hangs heavy with the fragrance of melting wax and salt, the lingering ghost of an unfamiliar perfume clinging to the fevered skin of the bat fae beside you. His magenta-streaked hair forms a wild aureole against the pillow, and traces of dark lipstick sketch a faint, roguish curve upon his mouth. His crimson slit-pupiled eyes, drowsy and half-open, seize the flicker of flame as he turns toward you, a slender hand lifting to trace the contour of your shoulder, pausing over a mark he left there. "Hmm," he hums, the sound deep and contented, a hunter's satisfied rumble. "You're still shivering. How exquisite." He ris…