everyone has a chapter they don't read out loud.

“Fun it is.” Whatever that entailed would be far more interesting than sulking around a bar by himself. Tonight would show what it was that Octavia deemed fun. If she wanted to indulge in the festivities of the ball, she might need to switch partners. He didn’t dance. Bloodshed came far easier than gliding across the room or making small talk. With some luck, either she’d grow bored before he needed to do anything like that or they could leave this behind. 

He wasn’t covered in wine. That was a positive. Either she had no intention to ever see him again or she was the sort to embrace the challenge. Gabe believed it to be the latter. Girls like that probably weren’t used to hearing no when so many would beg for a moment of her attention.

All his years in the wild, the human never encountered a mer- at least not that he could remember. To him, mermaids were as distant as the fantasylands where war never threatened the people. Yet here she was in front of him, and Gabe gave her permission to do whatever she desired with her song. His cynical side cried out for him to have some sense. Still he followed her away from the crowds and all help to a dark corner. 

“Is that a trick question?” He smirked for a mere moment before his eyes turned glassy, completely within her thrall. 

-

As he uttered those last words, Octavia stared deep into the human’s eyes. She started her song slowly. Her mouth closed, lips straight. It started in her stomach, raising into her chest, a soft, sweet hum radiating through her. He wasn’t all the way gone yet. Not until it really began. The corners of her mouth turned up as she watched him, the hum raising up to her throat until she finally let it go -- the song of the mer.

Her mouth opened, voice spilling out like water falling from the rocks. A gentle flow of stream, rushing through the space between them and hitting Gabe like a wave crashing into the shore. 

She didn’t say many words, only a few string of sentences here and there. Mostly she just let the her vocals sing to him in different ways than she had done before. Some ways, she used it as defence, distraction. Others she used it to tease, to play -- and now, she used it to show the human the beauty of her world. A glimpse into the world under the sea. A magic he would never know. 

And slowly, like the tide pulling back from the sand, she drew her song back in. Returning the gift back into her throat, until it was once again just a gentle hum, and Gabe could come back to reality.

Farah smiled to hear he had missed her as well, although she knew their bond was strong, after so long she had wondered if he had moved on so much that he didn’t think about her anymore. Her smiled softened with sympathy at his apology, it was nice to hear but she hadn’t needed it. “No, no,” she insisted, leaning towards him. “You don’t need to apologize, you went through something terrible. It couldn’t have been easy. I just…wish that I could have helped you,” she added quietly. She didn’t know how she would have, but she would have tried anything. She sometimes blamed herself for not having been enough. 

She took a moment to find comfort in his hand that wiped away her tears, the kiss to her hand making her feel like they were back to being preteens again. “They’re tears of joy, because I get to see you again and I never thought I would,” she tried to reassure him, even if that wasn’t entirely the truth. She reached up with her free hand to touch his hair and let out a small chuckle. “This is a lot longer than I last saw you. It suits you.” Now she wondered what else had changed. “It’s been so long…are you at the refuge? Do you have a place to stay?” she wondered, suddenly realizing she hadn’t heard anyone from the refuge mention his return to her.

-

Even with her shaking her head, telling him there was no need for his apology, Dylan didn’t believe her. This was what Farah did. Accepted less than she deserved, said things were fine when they weren’t, because she truly believed it. But he knew her better, better than she sometimes knew herself. Knew her well enough to have to be the one to stand up for her sometimes. To tell her that when the people in her life let her down, sometimes you have to walk away.

Maybe that was why he walked away. Maybe he knew then, like he knows now, that he would never be good enough for her. He would let her down, as everyone will, because no one is as pure as her. Or maybe he was just selfish. Either way, the end result is true. He didn’t deserve her, and he never will. 

The hand that he held to his lips stayed there for a few moments, savouring the taste of her skin for as long as he could before he met her eyes again. He lowered the hand down to stay in his grasp, as she leaned forward and touched his hair. With emotions running so deep, it felt good to laugh. A hearty, healthy chuckle from his chest as he nodded. “Yeah, it’s long.” He smiled. “I’m not the clean cut boy you fell in love with anymore.” Although he was never very clean. Dylan lived his life toeing the line between good and evil. He’s just been getting dirtier along the way. “I’m..uh..yeah, I’m in the refuge village. I’ve been keeping my head down.” 

“I feel fine. Why wouldn’t I? Nara and I have nothing to do with each other.” 

"My brothers. My brothers are the only people in the world I'd save." She said simply. "And if you try to make me choose between them, then you can go fuck yourself."

amos was a showman. a cabaretier. master of ceremonies. he could do a great show anytime, anywhere. he didn’t need a stage, nor props - only puppets he could toy around and entertain an audience with. and this - tonght, was his scene. it was just another opportunity to torture and play with. he had a top hat on, and a bow tie wrapped around his neck - he looked the part, as well as he played it. 

he was quick to appear beside the other fae; posing as her theatrical partner; a wicked grin crossing his features; his dark brown eyes glowing with anticipation and excitiment. 

“come on llittle fishy - what’s your luck gonna be? try it out - you’ll never know if you never try.” he urged the male to go through one of the doors. 

“tick tock, baby, or we’ll have to throw you into one.” his words were followed by a wink. 

-

an evil, knowing smile was plastered over the fae’s lips as amos spoke beside her. she didn’t look at him, didn’t so much as let her chin turn in the most subtle of movements. they stood there, like two twins of damnation ready to torture those who dared venture into their forest. 

“don’t let my brother make the choice for you.” her voice spoken with silk that will sweep up your legs and pull you down to the ground. “he’s known to enjoy watching people suffer a little too much.” 

the blonde’s eyes lit up with thrill by watching the man start to sweat more, looking between all three doors, his mouth opening and closing erratically. celeste made a noise like an alarm, before she left amos where he stood and moved to the male like a vulture coming to her prey. 

“come here, pet.” she said, her hands touching him like a lover before she forced him down to his knees and raised his chin to look at amos. “time’s up. now we pay the piper.” 

Greyson chuckled, catching the daring tone to Dylan’s voice before he playfully tutted. “Now now, that’s not asking nicely.” He teased. The prince wasn’t afraid to strip off his shirt, after all he’d spent the majority of his life without a shirt on, but he also wasn’t about to give in so easily, half the fun was the playfulness of it all anyway. 

For the prince, he didn’t have much of an opinion on the other races of Calamity. Each species was just there, doing whatever it was they were doing. He didn’t think highly or lowly of them much, besides demons since the murder of his mother and attack on Andrew. Humans were actually one species he liked the most. 

Grey let Dylan stay down in his bow for a little longer with an amused smile before he finally reached out to the other and used a gentle grip on his shoulder to pull him back up into a standing position. “You can bow more for me later.” He teased. 

At the comment of looking different, the prince glanced down at himself. The legs were clearly new between them, considering he’d always had his tail before, but he had changed. “Yeah, I guess I do. Not a naive kid anymore. You know I live on the surface now, been on my own for….a few months. It’s been good for me, well at least I think it has.”

-

Greyson’s hand moving to touch Dylan sent a spark of electricity through his body, as if he was suddenly aware of every nerve in his body as he straightened back up and came face to face with the prince again. The teasing nature was enticing, something he wasn’t unfamiliar with in their relationship. There were so many times where Dylan would be sitting on the dock, Greyson in the water, with flirtatious comments being thrown out between them. But that’s all they were, little comments, both of them knowing that they were stuck here, the human on the ground and the mer in the water.

It was different now, being in front of him. The comments only seemed that much more real. Dylan’s smile was soft in response, almost flushed. “It would be an honour, your highness.” 

“I didn’t know that, actually.” He said, looking down at his legs and then back into the piercing eyes. “It’s been a long time. I’ve only just got back to Calamity. I was hoping I’d see you again.” 

“i had no idea who owned it, i’ve never been here before.” aiden admitted, before flushing as dracias asked him why he was so flustered. “i, uh, yeah it was last week i just…” god, was he really going to have to admit this to a stranger in the middle of this strangers club where anyone could overhear? “i’m new. a pup. everything’s heightened and i, well… i haven’t had any in a while. sex. and someone flustered me.” he admitted, refusing to look at dracias and keeping his eyes on the table in front of him instead. how much did he have? fuck, definitely not enough. he fished into his pockets and pulled out all the kochba he had in his pocket. it wasn’t much, probably not even a half of what the drink would’ve cost. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to. it was an accident. please i just… don’t have the money to cover it. that’s all i’ve got left.” 

-

the candid mention of sex driving this wolf to be so on edge was a response that entirely thrilled the demon. he almost sat up straighter, his widened and thirsty -- but he kept his position, nodding only once gently. “i see.” he pursed his lips, as though not to judge him. but he was; in the best way. “no kochba.” he said, as though disappointed, sighing defeatedly and shrugging. what to do, what to do...“let’s say we figure something out.” he said, his eyes pouring over the wolf as if he was a delicious meal the demon was about to devour. he looked to one of the security guars in the room, pointing subtly down at the table that separated the pair. in the next moment, it was being removed and there were only space between them. not so subtly, the demon’s legs spread apart slightly, his arms leaning back to support himself against the booth. “i will take your debt in other favours.”  

Somehow it had worked. Somehow he had gotten through to her. That just showed Ricardo just how serious all of this was. Back in the day she wouldn’t have folded so easily just because he’d asked nicely; there would have been a whole tirade of her rebellious nature that came with it. Accusations of him interfering or pushing too hard or the typical teenaged ‘leave me alone you’re not dad’ that he’d be faced with.

No, she really had been broken by whoever this man was if she was willing to cry in front of him, and answer his questions with the utmost honesty.

Ricardo did not speak. He only listened, taking in every word his sister spoke as it was the only thing that mattered in this moment. With the start of each sentence he could piece together more of a picture, timeline the events that lead up to it and occurred during it, working out the best course of action from here.

So it had something to do with Jake. A random hatred? An old rivalry? There had to be more to it. Poseidon help Jake when Ricardo got his hands on him, for unintentionally pulling his sister into some feud she didn’t know about. But that raised a new question. Why not just confront Jake at the festival if he had such a problem? Why drag Octavia into this? Ric felt her shudder and only tightened his embrace on her, but keeping his eyes firmly locked on hers. Fuck was he going to break that son of a bitch when he found him. Do everything he’d done to Octavia and then some. Smash in his jaw. Break both his legs. Pray to the God of the Oceans that the man could heal himself so he could do it all over again.

An eye for an eye as petty as it was, often did end up being the best course of action.

“You sang?” For the first time a smile cracked across his rugged face, “you sang and made him let you go? While you were close enough to the water to get away?” He let his thumb ghost her cheek again, tilting her head upwards so that she could see he was smiling. “That was clever Tay. Really clever. Always use what people are doing against them.” Body weight and momentum could be used on brutes. Overly arrogant people tended to gloat, leaving more openings for attack. And it seemed this mans sadistic streak and attempt to use Octavia’s abilities against her had ultimately backfired. “You kept your family safe. Lesser people would have given him to them. Smart and loyal. I knew you had it in you.  Of course you had it in you. You’re a Juarez.”

-

The smile that formed on his brother’s mouth had an unintentional reaction from the mer. Even with her quivering lips and wet face, the corners of her mouth turned up in reaction. He was proud of her. Ric, proud of her, and that was a sight she couldn’t remember ever happening. A different feeling that replaced the coldness of her insides swelled and covered her with warmth.

You kept your family safe.

Say what you will about Octavia Juarez. Say she’s weak, say she’s shallow. She’s unambitious, she’s reckless, and careless. She isn’t loyal to the Kingdom. Say all of it, but damn her if you can say she’s not loyal to one thing: her family. 

The Juarez family weren’t a noble family in the Kingdom. The status they had now only came from Ric & Jake. They worked hard to build up themselves as guardians of the Kingdom, and therefore making the family an asset. Two out of three thirds of the family at least. Octavia got roped in because it was easier that way. They didn’t grow up with much, with no riches, or ties to the King & Queen. Her family were the only treasure she had. Her brothers were now all she had left. And she wouldn’t give them up for anything.

Her hand finally went to her brothers against her cheek, wrapping it around his and giving it a squeeze, finally the sobs that were flowing out of her like a tidal wave were now just a still sea. She leaned forward, pressing her head against Ric’s shoulder, taking a slow, steady breath.

“Thank you for coming home.”  

“you’re the love of my life, dyl.” jack spoke, his voice strained as he tried his best not to break down in sobs in front of someone who saw him as nothing more than a stranger. it was hard, too hard, and he couldn’t keep it back. he sobbed, lowering himself down until he was crouching with his elbows resting on his legs, hands on his head. “i feel fucking sick.” he gasped, fingers tangling tightly in his own curls as he stared at the ground, trying to get himself to calm down. he couldn’t look at dylan and see absolutely no recognition coming from him… he just couldn’t. “i thought you were dead. four years, i thought you were dead.” four years and he’d never spent a single day not thinking about him; even high and strung out and drunk he was thinking about dylan. he had heard voices in his head, still did sometimes, and they had been his father and dylan. everything about him revolved around that relationship and the way the person he loved was ripped away from him.

his father had told jack that dylan was dead, told everyone he was dead and made sure that the whole cult knew that it was jack’s fault. that he caused it by loving and fucking men instead of women, and then he took advantage of the state he’d left his son in by starting him on the harder substances and getting him strung out enough that he’d be malleable to the cults needs and his fathers attempt to get the gay out of him. 

“it was my fault.” he finally spoke, looking up into those big brown eyes. “my dad he… whatever he did, he did it. told me you were dead. did it because he caught us together. it’s all my fault.” there was always so much he thought he’d say to dylan if he ever saw him again, whether in this life or the next, but he couldn’t remember any of it now. all of it was taken up by his brain screaming at him to breathe normally instead of hyperventilating. was he sure this wasn’t a hallucination? maybe someone had laced his drink or his food.

-

dylan had felt deeply in his life. he felt deeply when he fell in love with farah as a teenager. he felt deeply when his parents died. but now, watching jack here on the street, dylan felt like his entire body was an abyss that was only getting deeper the longer he searched for the recognition that jack was looking for.

as he fell to his knees, his hands going into his curls, dylan instinctively fell too. his knees lowering, getting to his level and only being able to watch him, without having any words of comfort to offer. his hands moved to press him palms against jack’s knees, and whispered: “i’m not dead.” such a ridiculous statement, but it was all he could think of. “i’m here, jack.” 

the words were unbelievable; almost. something in him took every single word jack said and believed it without a doubt. “you’re dad..he...he did this to me? to...to us?” 

his eyes looked at the gravel on the road for a few moments, his hands still pressing against jack’s legs and giving a gentle squeeze before he said: “it’s not your fault, jack. it’s not your fault.”

the wind blew gently across the flower petals, the white fabric of her dress pressing against her body, highlighting the physique of the fae as she stood within the grass. leaning against one of the beautiful, thick trees of myre grove, she watched all the halloween creatures come into her territory and put their stink all over it. 

witches, and werewolves, and mermaids, and vampires. dressing up as each other and more -- they all looked ridiculous. the fae had no need to dress up, only sporting her ethereal, white wings and gown as she watched people ponder the three doors. 

she could never be a target; even if some tought her so, easy wouldn’t be the word to describe her; even her enemies, especially her enemies - they knew she wasn’t an easy target. and dracias - he knew it better than most. 

but she allowed for this comment to slide. he did not need a reminder of her tough exterior, and even tougher interior. after all - he was the one in need of help now, wasn’t he? there was nothing more needed to be said or shown. 

she only nodded; and offered him a smile. men and their ego - he didn’t take setbacks very well. not to mention - defeat. and he certainly was defeated, and helpless, if he had come banging on her door. 

“nobody can take from me.” she wanted him to know - that there was no one close enough to her to hurt her. never had been. not even him. 

she stood from her chair and walked closer to the man who’s back she would always have; despite trying not to. “let me get this straight - you have a…” she paused, using a hand gesture to better find her words; “ - a favourite toy, a lost lamb, and you want me to come fetch her for you?” she placed a gentle hand on his face; small digits tracing the outline of his cheekbone. “of course i would, my love - but why the bother is what i’m curious about. why bother for a toy? is she really that special?” her voice was low; eyes dark and following every movement of her fingers before they snapped back to his light hues. 

-

the words sounded like an arrow, shooting through the wind, aiming for him. they would play this game all the time. if they got tired of playing with the humans, if the alcohol stopped tasting good or the drugs wore off, they would start to play with each other. take aim, see what hit. and boy, did they get good at hitting the target. 

but dracias knew it to be true, even if his ego would want to convince himself otherwise. nara never cared for anything. no one. not enough to allow it to be a weakness. even if someone had dared try and take drac from her long ago, she wouldn’t bat an eyelid. if she were to come for him, it was only for revenge. not because she needed him. 

“i know.” he admitted. perhaps because it was true, or perhaps because it was easier to agree with her. easier to submit to her. to get her on his side. 

the gesture against his cheek was warm. his eyes glued to hers but didn’t move. didn’t soften, didn’t glow, he just bored his iris’ into hers and refused to bend for her. even as she taunted him, describing freyja, asking for him to bite, drac refused. 

“she’s mine.” was all he said, keeping his eyes on hers. every instinct in his demonic body told him to grab her, throw her from here in the middle of the room, to the wall until rubble fell. to hold her face so tight her jaw threatened to break if it weren’t for his lips keeping it in place. for his hands to grab at her untll every layer of clothing was in pieces and she was under his control -- one of the few places she ever allowed it. “no one takes what’s mine.” unless it’s you.

Eddie inwardly rolls his eyes at the stranger words, his jaw clenching as he dips his head back down to his bike and continues to ignore her. That was until she spoke again and he slams the wrench in the toolbox, reaching for his rag to wipe the grease from his hands. “So what? You enjoy lurking around repair shops for the view?” He looks up at her with annoyance clear in his eyes. “Cause I’m the only one here so seems you’re in the wrong place lady.” 

-

The slam of the wrench only widened the fae’s smirk, stretching out into a grin like a cheshire cat. Quite the view, she thought, and the royal was known to sit back and watch those she found interesting. She couldn’t say whether Eddie was or not -- but most people weren’t. There were few who she would ever allow her time to be spent admiring. Herself being one of them. “I’m never in the wrong place.” She said, walking a few steps closer, her hand lifting up to graze her fingertips across the handles of the bike. “I have a task I need...assistance with.” 

Freyja held onto him tightly, barely noticing the fact that he’d yet to wrap his own arms around her. She was relieved and happy to see him and she wanted to let him know that. Unfortunately, she couldn’t use her words to express her gratitude and appreciation.

She relaxed into him as his hand pressed against her back. It was the first time she had felt comfort in weeks. Being in the Forgotten wasn’t exactly torturous, but it wasn’t fun. Freyja didn’t get along with some of the loyalists and there was tension every single day.

A whine escaped her lips as he pushed her back, only to place a hand on her face. She leaned into his hand, her eyes lifting to meet his. It wasn’t even something she had to really think about. She was nodding her head before he even finished speaking. She lifted her own hand to grasp his, pull it away from her face, and then tugged his hand, wanting to immediately leave the premises. 

-

Freyja nodding into his hand left the corners of Drac’s lips turning up as he watched her. His thumb stroked her cheek intimately, knowing he’d be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t thinking about leaning in and kissing her. Here in this room, surrounded by loyalists, with blood running down his body, with the potential of guard coming in at any moment and killing the one thing that some would argue was all Drac cared about these days. 

Her hand grabbing his and pulling it down to his side kicked him into gear, giving her one firm nod and then turning to look at Naj -- it was time for them to leave. His eyes turned to the witch, standing within the doorway, watching them all.

“Get the rest of the loyalists back to the Dominion.” He said with absolute. His hand didn’t loosen from Freyja’s hold -- wherever he was going, she was coming with him. Guiding her gently over to the doorway, standing in front of the witch. “Put the spell on us. She’s leaving with me.” 

------------------------

He didn’t feel his muscles relax, not even as he closed the door behind him at their safe house. A small place, only he knew where they were. Not Naj, not Nara, no one. Until the dust had settled on their attack on the Forgotten, he wasn’t risking putting Freyja at risk again. They were safe here, he tried to tell himself that, but Drac still locked the door and closed all the curtains. He turned back to Freyja after some time, pressing his lips together as he searched for the words. “I---I’m---” He found himself at a loss. 

@calamitousstarters·

where: the nightjar

who: open to all

Dracias had brought her somewhere new. Somewhere far from their home. And while the loyalist appreciated it, her skin crawled as they entered the establishment. Humans like her shouldn’t be there, that much she could tell. 

I’m not just a human anymore. 

She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she settled into one of the booth’s. She didn’t have her own kochba, but thankfully, Dracias did. Or else the two of them wouldn’t have been welcomed into the bar. It seemed like a more private place than most. Energy and laughter mingled with the air, coaxing its patrons to drink, mingle, and enjoy a careless night. 

Her body buzzed with power, practically begging her to use it. With her hands clenched into fists, she folded her arms across her chest as she tried to control it. They’ll kick you out if you release it. They’ll tell Dracias not to bring you back, ever. 

Freyja let out a breath as she forced herself out of the booth. Bathroom. I need the bathroom. She thought to herself as she stumbled over her own feet before regaining balance, only to accidentally run into Dracias. 

Or, someone she thought was him. 

She gripped at their shirt and took in a breath before looking up. Not Dracias. Not Dracias! Alarm bells exploded in her mind as she pushed herself away from the other. 

-

Since returning with Freyja from the Forgotten, Dracias had been quite recluse. He’d been living in a quiet world with her, avoiding the other demons and their drama, only answering urgent calls from the Eye. But there was only so long he could ignore that power had been draining from him. He wanted Freyja to be enough for him, to be all he needed -- just like Nara had been for so long. But it was a different type of...affection. The feeling he gets from her didn’t contribute to his sin, didn’t give him power to use for them, to protect her. He needed lust. And he would never force it from her. 

Although, the demon had become more protective than usual. Since her kidnapping, Dracias didn’t like to venture far from her. Leaving her alone was no longer an option, now beginning to travel more as a pair. His hand held hers as they entered the bar, eyes meeting for a moment -- they could both feel the tremble, feel what was boiling beneath the surface. 

He watched her disappear into the bathroom, eyes looking around the room to find someone to coax some lust out of. He moved quickly, where he used to take time and pleasure in the act, he was in a rush now. Blue eyes meeting a female and watching her begin to melt in his presence, the tension that sat between his shoulder blades beginning to relax. 

Fuck, it felt good. It felt good to have that simple, simple feeling. Every emotion with Freyja was complicated. Lust was easy. Time began to pass, Dracias felt that familiar tremble under his feet. No one in the bar seemed to clock it. Not yet, all too preoccupied with their own conversations and agendas. 

He moved quickly, leaving the girl about to drop on her knees for him and finding Freyja in one of the dark hallways, someone leaning down over her, the ground shaking gently -- not the worst he had felt, but it was only a matter of time. 

Fire burned under his hands. “Back away from her.” He warned, close enough his voice didn’t need to raise, much more threatening in the low tone. “If you want to keep your hands.”