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Tyler didn't notice his wings at first. "Uh, sure." He was hesitant, but then he was also beginning to get curious.
Tyler didn't notice his wings at first. "Uh, sure." He was hesitant, but then he was also beginning to get curious.
Ilya laughed, standing up on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek before he waltzed inside, eyes reflecting the firelight like two dark pools. "Follow me and stay close! I wouldn't want anyone other than me taking a bite out of you."
Tyler walked in, contemplating what 'Misha' said about taking a bite out of him. It's probably nothing. He seems a little eccentric, this is probably just how he normally talks. "So, you live with a bunch of people?"
"You could say that," Ilya pretended to agree, watching the ceiling rise until it had faded up into the sky. The cavern was larger than should be possible, stretching out into a wide open meadow. The oak door disappeared once they took a few steps farther into the meadow. He turned to Tyler. "Do you know where you are?" he asked, too sharp teeth revealed by the words.
Tyler, at last, noticed his wings. And now, his teeth. "Oh, what the hell?" He looked at his surroundings, and practically screamed, "Did you drug me?'
(Tyler isn't too bright, in case if you can't tell-)
(we stan an unobservant king)
Ilya laughed again, sharp and bright and absolutely delighted by the human he'd lured in. "No, Tyler, this is all very real. Haven't you put two and two together?" He tapped Tyler's head gently, voice dropping to a mocking whisper. "Is anything working up here?"
He frowned. "What are you?"
Ilya blinked owlishly at him for a second before breaking into a fit of giggles that had him bending over. He hadn't expected his human to be so funny. Once he had finally contained himself, he gestured to his wings. "I'm a faerie, Tyler!"
His jaw dropped and he stared at him. "So what does that mean for me?"
Ilya grinned, draping his arms over Tyler's shoulders. "It means you're mine, pretty boy! Don't you pay attention to folk tales? We like stealing people away."
Tyler was starting to get irritated. He narrowed his eyes and said, "I don't belong to you."
Ilya tilted his head in mock confusion, crooked grin still across his face. "Oh but you do. You gave me your name, Tyler. Names have power."
"Oh, I'm sure," he replied with a sarcastic tone. He turned around and asked, "how do I get out of here?"
"You don't," Ilya replied casually, slowly starting to tug Tyler farther into the meadow. "It wouldn't be proper magic if we let you leave freely. Why don't you just come with me, pretty boy? I promise it'll be fun."
Tyler sighed. Loudly. "Fine. But only for a little bit."
Ilya brightened, pulling Tyler more insistently until they were standing beside a long wooden banquet table laden with food and drink. A bonfire, one of many in the meadow, blazed in front of them, and a constantly changing menagerie of faeries danced around it, laughing and screaming. "Eat!" he demanded, picking up a pastry from the table. "It'll make you feel…" he paused, considering his words carefully, "better."
Tyler raised an eyebrow at him but didn't question it. He took the pastry and took a small bite out of it.
(Just so you know, fairy food kinda acts like a drug on humans. It puts you in a happy daze and maks you very open to any kind of suggestion. Obv since he didn't eat much, he won't feel the effects super strongly.)
"Good boy!" Ilya praised, pushing himself up onto his tiptoes to pat Tyler on the head. His wings fluttered faintly in a phantom wind, black and sleek like a hornet's. "Would you like to dance?"
"I've never danced before, actually. But I would-" Tyler was still staring at his wings
Ilya smiled, spreading them out and letting them glimmer like oil in the firelight so Tyler could admire them. He basked in the attention as he spoke. "I can teach you how if you'd like. Or I could show you something else if you wouldn't."
He grinned, "I'm fine with either. Your wings are very beautiful, by the way."
(stalk?)
(I'm good with it. How about you Lori?)
Ilya smiled, fluttering them softly so they could catch the light. His wings had always been more functional than the bright butterfly and stained glass dragonfly wings of his peers. It was nice to have them appreciated. "I'm glad you like them, Pretty boy! And I want you to make the choice."
(I'm good with it too)
"Well, what else would you show me?"
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