lazybox | Fae Garden Meme

Fae Garden Meme

Garden of the Fae Meme

Forget secret gardens hidden behind rock walls - this is the real thing, a fae master's home full of plants and exotic creatures, all touched by magic in some way. And the garden's Master has a taste for the sensual, the sexual, the things that make your heart pound - a taste that infiltrates the magic in every inch of their land.

Of course, being fae, the Master and their servants aren't particularly prone to understanding human things like consent and choice - only the pleasure matters, for themselves and for visitors. Anyone who doesn't get with the program just needs some encouragement - and if their hearts beat from fear instead of anticipation, if they gasp in pain and horror instead of pleasure... Well, it will all become the same soon enough, won't it?

Scenarios

Why are you here? Are you a lost unfortunate, or someone who thinks they know what they're doing? Either way, there's no real way to prepare for the things that await you within...

-> Lost and alone - You're here by some unfortunate twist of fate- taking a wrong path in the woods at night, or something like it. The place feels kind of creepy, but there's not much to do but explore, right? You're not going to find the way back by sitting around.
-> Looking for someone? - Someone you love has disappeared, and you're determined to find them and bring them back safely. No matter what kinds of obstacles you have to face - or at least, that's what you think before you enter the garden.
-> Taken - You've been stolen away. Why? You don't know! Perhaps the Master of the Garden took a personal interest in you. Perhaps you broke some unknown rule, or simply went out to the forest on the wrong night while the Midnight Hunt sounded its horns. Either way, now you're here to stay - unless you can make your escape.
-> A bad bargain - You made a deal with the fae, and now it's time to pay up. Whether you're kept as one of the master's pets, left to wander the garden, or perhaps even turned to stone to be touched and enjoyed while powerless to resist... The fae take their debts quite seriously.
-> Long-term residency - You've been here for quite a while, long enough that the garden seems normal to you. The idea of the outside world has grown fuzzy in your mind - why would you want to leave? Everything you could ever want, food and drink and pleasure, is right here.
-> Coming home - You never were quite right in the human world. Now, after finding your way into the Garden, you feel for the first time at home, like this is where you belong - but a life in the dull world of humans can only prepare you so much for the world of your kin.
-> Like a dream come true - For years, you've been having dreams of this place, dreams that never seem to go quite far enough to satisfy you. Now, as if by some miracle, you've found that the place actually exists - surely there can't be any harm in indulging a bit before you go, right?
-> Wildcard - Any other reason to be in the garden you can think of!

Partners

A wide variety of creatures stalk this master's garden. Who might you encounter on your travels?

-> Another lost soul - At least you don't seem to be the only person stuck in the garden. Whether it's a fellow prisoner or someone you simply happen upon by chance, the odds are better if you stick together, right?
-> Deceptively close - Or maybe they aren't human at all, just one of the fae exceptionally skilled at looking it, and you won't find out until the clothes are off... Or perhaps even later than that.
-> Predator and prey - Something is following you. You hear it in the bushes, see it out of the corner of your eye, no matter how much you try to lose it. Run, hide, embrace your fate - being caught is inevitable, eventually.
-> You shall not pass - Guardians ward various pathways and gates throughout the gardens, some standing silent, some pacing in their places. It's a lonely job, so perhaps if you have some company to offer, they'll let you pass... Though it's just as likely that they'll try to keep you to themselves for as long as possible.
-> A beautiful doll - Whether it be of stone, wood, or something else, this construction seems almost alive. The carving is so lifelike, you rather expect that it could start to move at any moment... Perhaps, if you touch it, it will.
-> Creatures of the night - Once it gets dark within the garden, even seemingly peaceful residents can change, growing dominating and ruthless. Mad revels and orgies can be heard throughout the garden, enticing you to join them. Of course, if you'd prefer more personal attention, it's certain that you can find someone...
-> A mysterious voice - Harmonious and lovely, with or without accompaniment, you can't help but be drawn in by this voice. But the singer keeps moving, staying just out of sight, even as your desire for them grows... Only when you are enraptured without hope of escape will they reveal themselves, in order to make your sounds of pleasure their new instrument.
-> Master of the Garden - You aren't sure how you know when you see them, but there can be no doubt, as leaves bend to their passing and topiary bows, as flowers burst into bloom at their gaze. Somehow, you've drawn their interest. Whether that will be pleasant or painful for you remains to be seen, but there's no point trying to escape before you find out.
-> Wildcard - There's plenty of other residents of the garden that you might encounter, and few are so strange that they won't show an interest in a new human arrival. Unfortunately, few of them quite understand humans themselves...

Where and when

The gardens are truly expansive - there are many marvels to be seen within, and even more private places for a moment between two (or three, or more) people. Of course, some of those aren't nearly as private as they seem...

-> Do it for the - Vines! Vines everywhere! And the more you struggle, the more you seem to get tangled up, almost as if the pants are intentionally trying to wrap around your limbs and secure you in place. You can keep struggling and hope to win your way free, or accept your fate and wait for rescue... Or whatever else comes your way.
-> Sleeping among the flowers - Something about the smell of these poppies is making you drowsy, your limbs unresponsive. Whether you drift off or fight to move is up to you - but someone's sure to find you eventually...
-> Mirror, mirror - No ripples mar the surface of this stone-bordered pond, allowing it to give a perfect reflection of the trees above, and you, when you stop to look into it. Except, now it does seem to ripple, and your reflection slides slowly out of the water, sitting on the edge more sensually than anything with your face and body ought to be. It's the sort of thing everyone fantasizes about trying once, right?
-> At home in the trees - Finally, a safe place to rest! Situated some twenty feet off the ground, the treehouse can't help but look warm and inviting... Perhaps there's even a real bed inside! But, there's always the chance the owner might come home, and take offense to unexpected visitors...
-> The maze - It's not a magical garden without a hedge maze to get lost in - and you are deeply lost. If you didn't know better, you'd think that the maze is moving on its own to keep you inside - but that surely can't be possible, right? Even so, you can't get rid of the feeling of eyes watching you between the leaves...
-> The greenhouse - While the rest of the garden is plenty warm, the inside of this glass building is outright steamy, condensation on the windows making it hard to peer inside. You could always go in, of course... But if you're not careful, the door might swing shut and lock behind you.
-> Table for two - Didn't anyone ever tell you not to eat the food you find in fairyland? It's hard to resist, of course, with such a long table, such an appetizing spread... Strangely, though, there are only two seats. Who will your dining partner be tonight?
-> The Master's Manor - Somewhere deep at the center of the garden is a manor house, as of course there must be. Cushioned, opulent furniture, silent servants taking care of your every need... It could be easy to stay here for a while. Or forever. But if you displease the Master, you might find yourself in for a worse punishment than joining the maids scrubbing floors.
-> Wildcard - Any other environs you feel appropriate to the garden? Feel free to make use of them! There's plenty of unexplored territory, after all, and only the Master knows the whole of it.

Bonus content

There's all sorts of other things to be found throughout the gardens, of course. Feel free to add these to any of the prompts above, or use them by themselves as a jumping-off point!

-> Sex pollen - It's practically obligatory in a place like this, isn't it? Whether it's literal pollen, the smell of a flower, or something else, aphrodisiacs abound within the boundaries of the garden.
-> Strange fruit - The shapes are a bit more than innuendo, at least the ones you can recognize - plump pairs of breasts, vulva-like petals, and dicks of all sizes and shapes, some of them distinctly inhuman. The unfortunate thing is, you're getting rather hungry... If eating the fruit does do something funny to you, surely you can find something matching your original equipment enough to change back... right?
-> Like a present - No matter how careful you are, the garden seems to have a personal grudge against your clothes. Thorns you were far clear of somehow rip small holes, sap dribbles on you from above... Sooner or later, these are going to be unwearable, if they don't just outright fall off.
-> Or an emperor - Fortunately, you stumble across some new clothes, which seem like they'll be decently covering... At least until you put them on! But once you have, they revert to their true, revealing appearances - and for some reason, they just don't seem to want to come back off! At least it's better than being naked... Right?
-> A lesson in obedience - You don't remember falling asleep, but when you woke, there was something around your neck. Whether an elegant choker or a thick metal ring, or something somewhere in between, there doesn't seem to be any way to remove it. And not long after you wake up, you'll come across someone waiting patiently, someone whose very gaze drives you to your knees...
-> On a string - You don't know when it happened. But slowly, you lose control of your body, as it begins to gain a mind of its own - a mind that seems more in line with the desires of the garden. It's hard to say if someone is controlling you specifically or if the magic is just that pervasive, but either way, sooner or later your flesh is going to take things into its own hands...
-> Turn and face the strange - You were human. You were. Now, though, after spending so long in the garden, it's hard to be sure anymore. Subtle changes in your body are getting impossible to ignore. Just what are you becoming, and is it even worth trying to get home anymore?
-> Gifts from the Master - Sometimes, the Master of the Garden decides to give gifts to their visitors. Refusing them is not an option, and it's always something the Master thinks you needed to enhance your pleasure. Nipple and genital piercings in gold, chastity devices in strangely wrought silver, plugs in wood that slowly swells inside you as though they were still growing... Perhaps you'll be able to remove them eventually, but not until the Master has decided that you've appreciated them enough.
-> Wildcard - Something you want to play with that you don't see here? By all means. Who would discourage such a thing?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[A longtime resident, a deceptively human creature of the shadows... Perhaps even the Master himself?

He'll never tell, but you might be able to find out~ ]

Sleeping was not something he'd ever meant to do in such precarious conditions. Still the manor house had seemed, in many ways, safer than the veritable jungle outside. So many things that creep and crawl and weave into ones mind. It's a lie, the comfort and safety of some piece of civilization. He knows that but something about the luxury of the drawing room he'd found himself in was enticing, warm and comfortable and he doesn't remember drifting off.

When he comes to, however, the cozy warmth is gone, night fallen and shadows cloaking the room. He shivers in the chill, quickly realizing that his leather jacket is missing and, impossibly, it seems like his pants are as well. The weight at his feet no longer from heavy boots but wide leather bands that cinch tight around his ankles, a fine golden chain linking them, giving him enough room to stand with his feet shoulder width apart but no more. A loop on one side is attached to another length of chain, a long leash of sorts that lead away from him and into the deeper shadows of the room.

The leash would be more distressing if he could see it. But the last piece, the last unsettling change to his attire is a heavy leather harness covering his eyes and enclosing much of his head. He lets out a slow, steady breath, trying to listen for any cues even as he feels along the armchair he'd been seated in, hoping for some sort of blanket he could cover himself with.

"Is... Is anyone there?" Cautious, suspicious, tilting his head this way and that, trying to listen. Giving up on a blanket his hands move to the harness, fingers stiff and clumsy, fumbling on the clasps. In the end he just starts tugging at various straps, trying to get something to let go.

Casper has never been quite right in the human world. There's always been something happening to him - ghosts passing by him, pleased to talk to a living human. Blizzards just barely missing his house due to a sudden counter-wind. Finding his way in the dark streets, even when he's been lost. But now... now he truly is lost.

He'd been wandering the streets at night again when a rush of green had engulfed him, the sights of a forest that shouldn't exist in a city whizzing past him. He'd found himself in front of a house covered in vines... well, it couldn't hurt to knock and ask for help getting back, right? But everything had been so confusing, so overwhelming, that he'd simply been guided to a couch by... someone?... and he'd sat there, staring at his hands.

He's not sure why this place feels faintly familiar. He's never been here. But there's some sort of ache in his heart, and he waits. He's not sure who or what he's waiting for, only that someone is going to come... and hopefully he'll have answers.

((Probably chasing his King or Sister, lbr))

Visiting his Cousin had always been somewhat bothersome of an affair, as they lived so far out. In the middle of nowhere, so near all those funny human settlements. All the better for their interests, perhaps. And truthfully, fae across the Courts enjoyed their lovely Manor and all its curiosities, so he was so sincerely hoping they wouldn’t mind hosting something on the winter solstice, what say you dearest cousin.

Anyway, since he’d made the trip, and since Cousin was busy right now with one of their newest curiosities, Laurent takes the time to enjoy the Manor. The horticulture is impeccable, of course, though he’d disagree on animating the hedges to quite that degree (it’s bad for their branches). And the mortal menagerie is different every season. Why, he isn’t one for that kind of pleasure but just the curiosity of what Cousin’s got has him roaming the Manor and its grounds for a taste. Unlike its captives, this man wanders at ease; mesmerising as he is to behold, he strolls like he knows that no door or hedge will touch him. And so it is.

Costlemark Manor really is lovely.

No door or hedge but he ventures too close to the wilder parts of the gardens and a hand catches his arm, grip firm and unyielding.

"It's dangerous to go further without the Master." A warning, simple and polite, a statement of fact more than telling him what to do. But he doesn't let go, doesn't release his hold until he's certain the man won't push to continue forward.

It may be surprising that his grip is as powerful as it is. Laurent would be forgiven for not even realizing he was there for how tangled up in the hedge he is, a forgotten sentry largely over taken by the plant life. Vines coil down his arms, flowers bloom over much of his back and shoulders, sweeping down his arms in delicate lines that seem too pointed to be random. It's hard to say if the large piece of bark at his left is a shield he carries or if it has become a part of him after so long neglected.

Yet here he stands, vigilant as ever, watching his post, duty bound to prevent visitors from coming to harm on the Master's property.

It’s been established that sudden contact is a stabbable offense for Laurent of Vere. But rest easy, for in this AU we are not about to do that- the faerie stays still, hears the sentry out, and generally doesn’t seem bothered at all.

“Fair enough.” He doubts there’s much he can’t handle out here; but Cousin’s garden, their rules. “Now you are adorable.”

Looks like it might be the exact opposite of a stabbable offense, if one happens to be covered in flowers. As he looks over the sentry Laurent’s growing smile is equal parts warm and eerie- like a light in the darkness that one suddenly realises is sourceless. He reaches out, gently brushing some of the flowers on the sentry’s arm.

“But so neglected, poor thing- when was your Master last here?”

What might have unsettled him ages ago means nothing to him now. As eerie as Laurent's smile might be it is nothing to what the Master does to his garden and Gladio seems hardly to notice it.

As Laurent's fingers move over the delicate petals on his arm it may become more clear that the blooms have sprouted up from the dark lines of ink that once covered him, now cloaked in flowers instead of feathers. He looks down at the touch, brows drawing tight, seemingly confused. How long has it been since someone touched him without doing harm?

Such a light touch but it makes him shiver, draws a sigh despite himself.

"I can't say but that it has been ages." Ages of men since he has been called to do his duty.

“Sssh. Let’s see how I can help.”

That’s apparently invitation for Laurent to keep pawing. He reaches up with his other hand to trace the other’s collarbone, shoulder, turning flowers towards him. “Gladiolus dalenii,” he murmurs, amused. “And here….. byzantinus?”

As he speaks, Gladio might feel the intrusion of a new set of magic. It skims over him lightly. The magic of the Master themselves, anchored into place, are untouched; it’s only the overgrowth that’s taken him over that begins to fall away.

"Gladiolus..." He repeats it back, a little distant, a little curious.

He shudders under the gentle touch, the spill of magic that wilts the flowers away. The man beneath seems to flourish under that tingle of magic, the weight of duty lighter, his stance more casual. A smile tugs at his lips, small but grateful.

"Gladiolus... that's my name." A glance down at the flowers lingering beyond the touch of Laurent's fingers, the slightest of eye rolls. "I believe he thought he was being clever."

“That is clever.” He stands by his cousin in faerie solidarity. Laurent steps back, his steps springy as fresh grass, and trots in an appraising circle around Gladio. He chatters as he goes- half to Gladio, half to himself- and occasionally brushes out more plant matter with his fingers, like dead leaves or clinging vines. “Humans have such absurd names. Hieroglyphic, human names. It’s been a while since I last met a human with a decent name- oh, this is much better.”

Appearing back in front of Gladio, the fae clasps his hands and smiles. “You’ve been saved by a prince, you know. How are you going to thank me?”

Of course the blond sides with the Master. Gladio doesn't think it's clever at all, so far as he's concerned it's just obvious. But he stands still, lets Laurent circle around him, slowly shifts and stretches as the weight of the flowers falls away.

"I like my name." A flicker of defiance but there's enough amusement in it to make it clear it's not meant to be argumentative.

He has sarcastic retort all set, oh my hero, knight in shining armor, so on and so forth. But it dies on his lips when Laurent asks for a show of gratitude. He knows how the fae work, he knows what the Master would expect for such a thing. An expenditure of magic for something that doesn't deserve his care. Amber eyes go dark, a flicker of anger before it's shuttered away behind careful resignation.

The wooden shield he carries is set aside, he steps closer to Laurent with a measured breath, fighting not to show how angry he is about the expectation. The Master does so enjoy making it worse when they show displeasure. And then he does precisely what Laurent's cousin would expect. He sinks to his knees in front of him, head tilted back to bare his throat, waiting for inhumanly strong fingers to delve into his hair and drag him where the prince wants him.

“Oh.” It’s a noise of genuine surprise. “I didn’t mean-” The faerie passes a hand over the lower half of his face, trying to hide the colour that tinges his cheeks. The downside of being pale. “I mean, thank you for your respect.”

It’s a line he’s rarely had to say, and the words come with a tinge of flusteredness. Fae didn’t really- go as far as kneeling, to just the princes. They’re all kinsmen, it’s rather overwrought for anyone but the King, but he doesn’t- he’s not…. disliking it. This dear magicked mortal. Laurent places one hand on Gladio’s shoulder, and leans down to place the gentlest kiss on his forehead.

This is good enough to settle that debt. He was only being playful, invoking the rite of favours to see what Gladio would do- just a nice speech would have satisfied him. But, now that Laurent’s /really/ looking at the way the mortal is holding himself, he finds himself trailing his fingers in a line horizontally across Gladio’s exposed throat, suspecting other implications.

“Are you… offering...?”

It's actually a little amusing, seeing how flustered the prince becomes with the show of submission. It's not at all something Gladio had expected. He leans into that gentle kiss to his forehead, surprised at how comforting such a small gesture is.

How long has it been since someone other than the Master touched him? And how long since that touch was anything that could be remotely considered gentle.

Those elegant fingers slide over his throat and he swallows hard, breathing deep and holding it, waiting for his hands to wrap around, to steal the breath from him and so he does his best to prepare for it. But it never comes. That held breath escapes in a rush and he looks up at Laurent in surprise.

"Is that not what you meant?" He's clearly very confused.

“I’m not so demanding. You’ve shown gratitude enough to settle this debt.” If he were more upstanding he’d declare it settled and leave it at that. It’s not very nice poking the mortal around like this. Still, the blonde moves his hand to Gladio’s cheek, stroking it with a thumb- with an unusual lack of force, as with all his other gestures.

He should put in a good word with Cousin tomorrow- it’s only fair, he’s being so very teasing and mean.

“Besides, I don’t consort with mortals so easily.” Laurent removes his hands and steps back, straightening up. Finally giving Gladio space and leave to get up, if he wants to, but still teasing the possibility of something else. “If you want to lay yourself at my feet, I’ll consider it. But you’d have to offer.”

The thumb brushes against his cheek and Gladio leans into the touch so readily, eager like a kitten, starved for touch and affection. As he withdraws Gladio chases the contact for a moment before he realizes what he's doing and sits back on his heels, frowning. Confused, unsure what to do with the sudden freedom he's been given.

If he wants to.

When, since stepping over into the realm of Faerie, has anything ever been his choice, something he wanted. The freedom of it is exhilarating, enough to have him considering for a fleeting moment before smiling, something slow and wicked. He pushes back up onto his knees, hands reaching out to curl around Laurent's thighs, trying to urge him a little closer.

"Then I guess I'm offering, huh?"

Be careful what you agree to, buddy. Agreement is a slippery slope when it comes to the fae.

“Are you now?” Even as he hedges like this his hand is coming up to cup Gladio’s chin, rewarding for good behaviour. Fingers drag over the mortal’s lips; exploratory, lingering with unspoken interest. It’s the only sign of desire- but it’s a pretty damning one.

"But not in the middle of a field, I hope." Suddenly he breaks off and backs up. Not to leave- he beelines for a nearby bench and drapes himself over it, the overgrowth peeling away for him. The fae looks back and tilts his head, expectant, curious. Half-smiles, making the 'come' gesture with two fingers.

"Over here." There's no instruction as to how he wants it done. There's a sense that, again, the point is to see what Gladio will choose to do.

Edited 2018-10-22 03:53 (UTC)

Laurent's fingers move over his mouth and Gladio's lips part obediently, offering the whole of his mouth for exploration if that's what he wants. It's what Gladio is expecting but then Laurent pulls away from him and the Shield is left blinking after him, confused and surprised.

Warm, amber eyes watch the foliage pull back, surprised that the garden responds so willingly for this man that is not his Master. The fae before him must be much more powerful than he expected. Which only makes him more certain that he's made the correct choice here.

But there's another choice to be made now. It's not 5 paces to the bench, such a short distance yet he hesitates for a long moment. Then, slowly, he lets himself fall forward, closing that distance on hands and knees, inked feathers shifting and stretching over the roll of his shoulders, gaze never leaving Laurent's face, hungry for some sort of approval in those distant features.

It’s a matter of semantics, really. A lesser fairy could produce the same result if they knew where the lines lay and which could be pushed- but admittedly the strength of his magic helps. And if what you’re after is a transferral to a different, busier Garden… Laurent is in a uniquely advantageous position.

He, like his Cousin would, notices the hesitation. But Laurent’s face softens instead, becoming a shade more conciliatory. “Don’t feel compelled. If you-“

Gladio comes to him on his knees. O-oh no.

The fae’s pupils dilate with inhuman intensity- holding Gladio’s gaze, perhaps unable to look away, his irises gleaming like lanterns even in the daylight- and he flushes.

Oh no.

He. He has to work on his dominance game, o-okay? He’s trying but it’s hard, especially when the mortal does that. A hand covers the furious blush on his cheeks as he recovers- well, “recovers” enough to continue functioning, he’s going nowhere with those warm eyes on him like that- and eventually, once Gladio has picked his spot next to the bench, reaches out to touch him.

“Good. What a good boy.” His voice is steady, without inflection; the biggest tell is still the Incriminating Blush on his face. Laurent leans his head in close and runs a hand over Gladio’s shoulder, across his broad back, drawing out the touch slowly this time. “Is this what you like?”

Color stains porcelain cheeks and Gladio feels a rush of warmth shudder through him. The intensity of his gaze drifts out of focus for a moment, his own cheeks flushing, color spreading down his neck, not nearly so stark on his bronzed skin as it is on Laurent's inhumanly pale flesh.

He settles on his knees beside the bench, facing Laurent, tilting his face up toward him at the praise. A gentle smile, amber eyes fluttering closed at the light caress over his shoulders, down his back. A gasped breath and he pushes up onto his knees instead of sitting back on his heels, eager for more contact.

Is this what he likes? It's hard to say... "It's been so long." Slow, thoughtful, mind trying to keep up with what's going on, more stimulus than he's had in centuries.

"Yes." Still quiet and uncertain but then he nods, blinks to focus his vision and then he shifts a little closer, tilting his head to rest his cheek on one slender thigh. "Yes."

He’s in no state to look out for blushing in someone else. Gladio’s cheek touches his thigh so softly and he inhales , removing his hands at once- one hand taps out a frantic rhythm on the bench, almost scrabbling against the wood. It’s barely anything. But his leg twitches anyway, the movement barely suppressed, and the fae breathes heavily like he’s suddenly forgotten how to.

He thinks about taking this mortal home. Taking him to bed, even. These thoughts are dark, dangerous waters.

Eventually Laurent's hands find their way back to Gladio again; they just rest in place now, one on his shoulder and the other patting his head, no attempt at carding the fingers into his hair. He focuses on breathing, and not losing it at the feeling of warm skin.

"...forgive me, I've been so wicked." His voice is low. "I think only your rightful master can give you what you want." This mortal doesn't know how lucky he is, drawing Laurent's attention like this- but no matter how fetching, Laurent's not going to bed someone else's creature. He suspects the line is much closer than he'd thought. "I can take you back to him."

The reaction is strange, unexpected, and Laurent is clearly distressed. Gladio blinks up at him for a moment, frowning, wondering uncertainly if he's done something wrong, something that has displeased this fae lord that has been so kind and welcoming to him.

Then he's speaking of returning Gladio to his Master and amber eyes go wide, frightened for a moment. There's a desperate flicker, a thought of pleading, begging Laurent not to return him to the Master, not to taunt him with the promise of touch and need and contact only to return him to a forgotten corner of the garden to fade again, maybe this time lose himself for good to the mindless centuries of duty and naught else.

But it is not for him to say, not becoming to beg, even of the fae. So after a moment he reigns himself in, lowers his head. "I'm sorry if I have displeased you."

He'd thought... he'd hoped this was what Laurent wanted.

"If you must return me to his keeping..." This was utterly inappropriate. "Allow me to share your company for some small while longer."

Foiled once again by his awkward reaction to arousal (slam it into a box and fling the box with violent force over the canopy.) But backing down is appropriate- Laurent shifts the leg farther from Gladio inward, narrowing the gap in the least disruptive way possible. His cheeks are still warm with unnecessary bloodflow.

“No, not at all- I like you very much. But you have a master, so I can’t do as I please. I know your master gets territorial.” If his Cousin gets mad about it, well, he’ll probably get out of it fine, but Gladio will bear that anger and Laurent would rather not risk that. He didn’t come here prepared to take someone home- and Cousin has to say yes, in the first place, and he can’t think of a reason why Cousin would want to let this sweet guy go.

He keeps petting the mortal’s head. He feels rather sorry about leading Gladio on earlier, and now the man looks so sad. “Come up on the bench if you like. Do you not want to go back to him?”

Territorial

It's enough to have Gladio bowing his head further to try to hide the scowl. Yes, how dare Laurent touch something that has not felt any sort of contact in centuries, forgotten in a dark corner of the garden. The fae shifts away subtly and Gladio makes no move to follow, fighting to reign in his expression.

"I would not go back to him." Soft, so careful. And he can't trust his face but he does turn his head, casting a glance back at his post, only discernible for the broad shield that remains there. The overgrowth is so thick it's impossible to even see what had once been an elegant lattice work arch.

If Laurent refuses him he will simply blend back into the background, slowly losing more and more of his humanity until all that's left is leaves and pretty blossoms.

This time Laurent makes a noise of genuine displeasure. He doesn’t like it when mortals are unhappy- he doesn’t know how to deal with it, more so than another with faerie. “Oh, don’t cry.”

Unfair or not, the Master has the rights over his mortals, no? They said yes- whether bewitched or willing. Laurent will say nothing about the ways of his people; they are technically lawful. But he’s tangled up in this incident. With a sigh, he puts his hand around Gladio’s face, tilting it up for access, and plants a single kiss on his lips. Quick, chaste. “Don’t cry, I don’t like that.” It’s not so much a request, in the tone of someone who hasn’t the experience of commanding another so thoroughly. “What is it that you want?”

He may be sad, yes, even dejected but he's not at the point of tears. No he's too resigned to the clever politics to be quite that emotional. It does strike him as strange that Laurent even cares that much. When the fae offers him a kiss, quick as it is, he can't help smiling faintly against his lips.

Oh but he would taste him further if only Laurent would give him an opportunity.

"To no longer be alone." He answers the question honestly and genuinely, with no hesitation or even the faintest thought of lying. It makes it all too clear how his master claimed ownership of him.

He’s nice because he feels bad, for fooling around with a mortal and leading him on. And Gladio’s been so good- it’s only fitting to do him a favour in return. A reward, for a service. But the human asking for something Laurent can’t quite wrap his head around.

“You’d be in company if you returned to your Master,” The faerie asks, clearly bemused. Their politics are tricky but there are certain things even he has taken for granted- they’re not the Unseelie, all the humans in their kingdom come willingly. The definition of “willing” is rather variable, and Cousin is fairly unorthodox, but Cousin’s humans have always seemed so devoted. And this one has been so good. So handsome. He liked that the kiss made him smile, in a childish part of him that takes flattery and that he generally denies. This really isn’t the time or place for that kind of thinking. Laurent gets to his feet, dealing with his feelings the same way he’s dealt with all the other feelings of desire: quickly put his blush out of sight, the blood will go somewhere else eventually.

“I would do you a favour, you’ve earned it, but...“
But since Gladio doesn’t want that he isn’t sure what third solution to cook up- this is a bit more demanding than he has the time of day to provide for. “You can get up. Maybe… we are having a festival here in two months. Someone might want to take you in.”

The fae makes his offer quite sincerely, repaying Gladio’s apparent inability to lie. (It reminds him of his brother. It’s cute, while in the King of fae it had been terrifying.) The human has been exceptionally lucky to catch his attention as is- but unfortunately, everyone knows the Prince doesn’t take human consorts.

You might have to ask yourself. Heaven knows he won’t.

He has to swallow down harsh words, the urge to bite back at the blond, frustrated with him for not understanding. He just hums softly, accepting the sentiment even though he knows it's untrue. Still he accepts the offer to rise, shifting up to sit on the bench beside the fae, still very much in his space.

"A favor?" Soft, curious, as though he can scarcely believe it. Then he takes a deep breath, steels himself for the refusal he fully expects.

"There is no returning to my master. The novelty of my presence wore off centuries ago. I am of no more interest to him than a broken childhood trinket." He shakes his head, hating that he has to compare himself to something so mundane, that he's nothing but a toy to those around him.

"Maybe, during the festival you speak of, someone will be interested enough and brave enough to ask the Master for me but it's hardly the first such festival and no one yet has been willing to consider it." And now he finally looks up to meet Laurent's gaze, bright amber holding that vivid blue for a moment, defiant and unyielding.

"If you wish to do me a favor without taking me from this prison then allow me to touch you, to feel your warmth if only for a moment, something to stave off the loneliness for some small time."

The faerie doesn’t stir at the proximity of another being; Gladio couldn’t hurt him even if he tried.

“Are you aware of how much you’re asking for?” He says eventually, obliquely; it doesn’t sound like a flat-out refusal at least, just a somewhat amused observation. What the observation is, he doesn’t say. There’s a long moment of just that silent consideration, before Laurent eventually continues: “Touch means touch. There will be no fucking. Second, I will stop you as and when my patience runs out. Third- you will tell no one about it, living or otherwise.”

Sorry, he’s a terms and conditions kind of fae. But if one is willing to fill out the paperwork- an unwanted mortal is fair game, right? He’d been concerned about Cousin’s boundaries before, and it appears that Cousin hasn’t even the interest to set some. Frankly, Laurent’s appalled that no one’s noticed this kind of mortal. But it’s mostly just him. Not everyone likes beef, Laurent.

“Frankly, you could do better than me if you’re after affection. But this is my offer.” Daintily, and very visibly, he plucks at the laces at the end of one sleeve and pulls a small section of it loose. Temptation.

He knows that some fae revel in contact, that some despise the touch of mortals. He'd thought this beautiful creature somewhere in between with how willing he'd seemed to let Gladio remain close, how caring he'd let himself appear. Surely part of it was for show, he wasn't stupid but for him to put up so much resistance now.

"I've no one to tell even if I wanted to." A sigh and he knows that to a faerie that will seem like a dodge so he doesn't let himself move until he gives clear, irrefutable agreement. "I understand and accept your terms."

At which point Gladio simply shifts a little closer and leans into the faerie, letting his head settle on Laurent's shoulder, his arm sliding behind the slighter man to take most of his weight. "If you don't want anything more than merely this I will consider myself lucky for this much." And it's not just submissive platitudes, it is honest truth, the warmth of the other against him, feeling the shift of his body with each breath... It's more than he's had in so very long.

Oh. That’s. Hmm!

Why do people never go for quick and nasty makeouts anymore. He’d been mentally prepared for that, he’d been ready to have another go at that poor-decisions-at-a-party experience. Now he has to contend with something….. frankly, vastly superior. It’s startling.

So his first reaction is to go still again- not quite tense, but clearly not relaxed. Not sure what to do, might be the word. But eventually, whatever mental debate the fae has resolves itself and he starts to relax, letting his weight lie naturally against the human.

"....if I don't like what you're doing, don't worry, you'll know." As we've.... found out elsewhere. But for now the response is delayed, and Laurent's voice sounds slightly dazed; this is a much better start, clearly?

((It seems there's a lovely little pond in this garden as well. Plotting first lovelies))

[[Probably the one who wandered in or was taken. M/M for smut.

Though if he is a fae, he's a particularly cruel one after he's broken.]]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Fae Garden Meme

Ardyn Izunia | FFXV

you said you wanted an eagle~

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Gladiolus Amicitia | Final Fantasy XV | OTA

it's fae prince time

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let me know if you want me to change the flowers!!

it's very appropriate that the Master would cover him in his namesake

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Brodie MacCormagh | OC (Kelpie)

Casper LeBlanc Jr. | Scion/oWoD