u know im always gonna send you a prompt when you ask for them love haha. how about some supernatural au mavin? Michael needs some ingredients from the Fae world. good thing he has his own personal Fae to lead him through it. Michael though knows how to listen to the rules of the fae and keep himself out of trouble. though he still manages to attract a lot of attention just by being a human in the Fae world. And making his boi feel far more protective than he thought the Fae ever could feel
Uhm…. I like the world of the Fae a lot more than I thought. This description is based on fantasy stories I’ve read and legends I’ve had the privledge to be told while I lived in the world that still believes in the Fae (England, Scotland, and Ireland). I ate them up like candy, I’m obsessed, and they colored this image quite a lot. So some of this is based in “fact”, if you can call the whispers of an old man on a rocking chair “fact”.
The world felt colder here. That was the first thing that Michael always noticed when he passed through the portal to the other side. It didn’t feel dead, no. Dead was the wrong world, for the world of the Fae was always bursting with color and life. But the life seemed /wrong/, twisted somehow, unnaturally merged with magic that kept it in a state of tortured bloom for far, far longer than any natural thing should exist.
Gavin always seemed different in the world of the Fae, too. He sparkled a bit too much. His teeth were just a bit too sharp. His eyes glowed a bit too much with a wicked sort of mirth. A look Michael would find incredibly amusing and appealing in His world is now terrifying. Everything in this world is terrifying and unnatural. It’s not for Him. He shouldn’t be Here.
But he is, because there are ingredients he needs to fetch. If they needed invisibility potions for their next heist, he had to harvest some of the lily blossoms that grew only near a specific spring in the world of the Fae. Gavin Owned him, at least in the Fae concept of ownership, and so Michael knew he was safe. Theoretically. Time seemed to drag like it wanted to keep him here and the fruits, hanging large and appetizing down on the trees would spell his death.
There were a lot of hidden dangers in the Fae world. Things that watched when you weren’t looking. That whispered sweet promises in your ears on the dancing wind. Michael knew this and didn’t listen. He never once let go of his Fae’s hand, knowing Gavin would protect him.
But there were things in the Fae world that even Gavin would get swept up in, calls to his base nature that were extremely difficult for him to avoid. The Dance was one. The Fae loved to frolic and make music. Their dance happened every night on the Fae full moon - and every night on the full moon was the correct phrase, for their merry-making would last for weeks, months, even /years/ in the human world.
Once - and only once - Michael almost got swept up in it. They passed by a group of Fae gathering for a dance and Gavin had almost run to join them. The fiddles were already going, their haunting song growing through the night. If Michael had grabbed hands with one of the dancers, he’d be gone. He’d dance forever, until he died where he stood. That was the plight of the Faerie Dance. That was the doom of the dancers.
Gavin had saved him in the end. Come to his senses and realized his human wasn’t made for such merry-making. He had managed to tear Michael away from the music, shoved wax in his ears until Michael could think again and lost the dewy, star-struck look in his eyes. A kiss warned the other Fae away and, like scavenging wolfs backing away from their prey, they retreated into the woods, until their eyes were the only things left. Watching. Waiting for a human to stumble and be pulled into their trap, feasting like wolves on the life-force of the unwary. Those too easily entranced.
It took months before Michael crossed back over after that, but with Gavin’s protection - worn like a cloak of gossamer gold over his shoulders - he wasn’t bothered much again. Gavin fought to keep him away from wandering eyes and enchanting hands and Michael felt safe with him. His boy rarely felt deep emotions but here, where everything was amplified a hundred times, the human emotion in him was too. Gavin was like a wolf and would tear apart any who approached them, teeth sharp as knives and smile just a bit too wide.
To get to the spring and the flowers they needed to harvest, they had to pass through the Court. Michael had never been there. Gavin assured him that was the Court of a minor Flower God and that they didn’t need to worry. He just had to stay close. Michael never was disobedient, not in the world of the Fae. He didn’t know enough. Gavin just warned him again to keep his mouth shut. A promise here was binding. A boast was a sealed death warrant.
Everyone knew the story of the best bagpiper in the world who got sucked down a Faerie hole to learn from the best and then was never able to leave, playing perpetually in their world for their dance forever more. Sometimes, legend has it, you could still hear him playing on the marshes of Scotland. Michael wasn’t sure how true the story was when he heard it on the concrete streets of Los Santos, but he wasn’t about to risk it. The rules of Fae ownership were fickle and he wasn’t about to break them.
The Flower God was naked. Most Faes were. Michael wasn’t bothered by this. Honestly, it made the man more appealing. It made him want to lay in the lush grass at the man’s feet and open his body up to him. That was the lure of the Fae, their charm. It was only when one looked closer could you see their sharp teeth and wicked claws. They were predators and Michael was a prey animal through and through. Shivers ran up his spine. He didn’t Belong Here and he knew it.
Gavin - with a low hiss - staked his claim, drawing blood from Michael’s body and smearing it over his lips. His. Michael was his, sealed with a bloody kiss. The show was morbid and ceremonial, but it appeased the wandering members of the Court from getting any closer. The whispers of pleasures beyond Michael’s knowing faded away and he was released from their spell. The smell of fragrance faded from his nostrils, replaced by the crimson tang of his own blood. Gavin’s blinding gold shimmer faded but for a moment, Michael could see the tendrils of satin wings fade back into his body. His little Faerie had sharp claws. He had to remember that.
They leave the village on the other side that they had come and time seems to minutely speed up, leaving them in a copse of never-dying trees. Gavin is breathing hard, crimson blood still on his lips, looking vicious. Michael just squeezes his hand. In the Other World, he’d have comments. Now, it felt like his tongue was tied to the roof of his mouth. He couldn’t speak even if he wanted to. A wrong word here spelled imprisonment, entrapment, death.
Even drowning in pleasure was drowning all the same.
When they emerge out into the spring, it trickles and runs like diamonds down a waterfall of magic. Michael’s almost dizzied with it. Gavin bends down and drinks straight out of the pool like some sort of animal. His body sparkles and he is rejuvenated. With a grin and a cock of his head, he dips his hand in until a few drops of the magic water - the water of the Fae - glimmer on his fingers. He gently returns and presses the droplets against Michael’s lips and he suckles greedily on the fingers. The water is like a shock, like the purest water and the most potent alcholol. It’s heady and intoxicating and he licks all he can get off of Gavin’s fingers and then - without stopping himself - licks what remains off of Gavin’s lips.
Gavin allows him two greedy kisses to steal what’s left of the droplets before stopping him. Sex is an Act here, a Right of Passage that Michael cannot transgress on. It’s another form of body magic and another way to steal a human’s soul. Stealing a droplet of magic water is one thing and that’s another.
Michael understands and goes to collect the lilys while Gavin strips down, skin tan and glowing gold as he bathes in the stream, the real reason he comes. The water falls off the gorgeous curves of his body and Michael is forced to look away or else fall victim to the promises of this world. The Temptations.
Gavin’s completely dry when he steps out, just another secret mystery, but looking rejuvenated, healthy and strong. The scars and stresses of the human world that had gathered on his skin are gone. The waters of the spring had restored him.
Holding out his hand, he brushes a kiss on Michael’s knuckles. Bag full of lilies, Gavin throws his hands up and incants an ancient ritual Michael would never be privy to know. A faerie ring is formed. Holding Michael close, they step through...
And collapse in the woods near Mount Chillad, falling on the dusty ground. It’s less vibrant. The ground is painful and dry, aching for the water of the magic spring across one magic barrier of time and space. Gavin’s Faerie ring is verdant and beautiful and surrounded with little mushrooms - the perfect trap for a curious hiker.
It’s only when they’re lying on the dirt, gasping, does Michael let out a long laugh. Gavin chuckles too and suddenly they’re kissing, all the adrenaline and fear they both felt fading. Back to normal, a witch and a displaced Fae. Not a God-being and his follower, but two men with strange abilities.
The World of the Fae is a dangerous place and woe betide those who dare to test its mysteries unaccompanied, lest it swallow you whole.
