☾

-

“Honey, all of your blood is the same to me, I don’t care who you are or who you aren’t. You just happened to be the fae that I came across first. How lucky for you.” Azagi grinned, watching as the other moaned in pain. “I’ll take that back, thanks.” The demon spoke, holding her hand out expectantly for the dagger.

-

Darcy could not help the small rise of her lips. Oh, you will definitely care. She needed to go home and figure out what she could do to Azagi by using her blood. Before giving the dagger back, she wiped the blade with her jacket, not willing to give the demon even more of her blood. When the blade was clean, she held it out for the demon to take. “And they say we have a reputation for being unreasonable,” Darcy said with a false smile. 

Lobo was sore from an unwanted shift that he had just come out of and was eagerly walking back home in hopes of getting a good nights rest. With only a sweater on and sweatpants that he had found abandoned on the street somewhere after coming out of his shift, Enrique didn’t hesitate to slip the clothes on and hurry home. But the smell of blood reached his nose quickly as he passed a shadowy area. Frowning, he slipped his hands out of his pockets and jogged to the area, freezing when he saw a body laying there clearly in need of help. Without hesitating, Lobo reached Darcy and bent down next to her with his eyes scanning her body and where the knife was sticking out. “How can I help….What do you need me to do.”

-

Darcy was so relieved when someone stepped out of the shadows, the iron in the dagger was burning her, and she felt herself frozen in place. “Pull it out!” she replied through gritted teeth. “Please...” She never begged for anything, but it hurt so much, she could barely think. Her brown eyes looked up at man, not able to recognise him, but it did not matter as long as he got the stupid knife out of her. 

“The rot isn’t coming from my kingdom!” She spat out, losing her temper for a brief second. Her eyes bore down on the fae for a second, before she cleared her throat, composing herself to a the level she always did. “The rot came from above - from the surface. They may be our troubles now but the trouble didn’t originate below.” Daya raised a hand to her face, pinching at the bridge of her nose in frustration. A minor miscalculation on her part, attacking a fae, but the damage was done now. “You may not have been there, but somebody knows something. We find out by any means necessary as ordered directly by Queen Saylor.” With a swift motion she grabbed the knife from the fae, wiping off the blood with the same handkerchief she had used to dab the wound, careful not to get any on herself.

-

She raised an eyebrow at the aggressive reaction, it was obvious that the merfolk was being targeted, but she refused to allow any of the blame to fall on the fae. “Maybe you should remind Queen Saylor that it is not wise to bite the hand that feeds you,” Darcy shot back with a glare. “Like I said, we have no reason to hurt you.” It was true many fae did not like the merfolk much, but they had a deal, and no one seemed willing to break it. “If we wanted to, we would condemn you to solely live under the water, away from any power in this place,” she pointed out. 

All Hector could hope for was that wasn’t a dream, that he wouldn’t wake up from if it was so. In his eyes Darcy was everything, no one would ever compare even if he and his wolf couldn’t physically have her… they were hoocked on Darcy. The kiss it was more then he had imagined, her lips as soft as silk, plump it was like kissing clouds. Feeling her I such away, he knew it wasn’t a dream

Hector would allow her anything in that moment, she could take anything from him and he’d be thankful for it. He was trying to be careful he had misunderstood her tone before, got the wrong impression but his wolf, the beast inside purred as another kiss was taken it wanted to be let out of its cage so it could consume Darcy. Stumbling backwards and on to his couch he watched with Lia as she straddled him. She looked like a goddess sat on his lap, hands trailing up the side of each thigh “I want you… all of you. We do this and it will be almost impossible to get rid of me” he needed to make sure she knew… make sure she knew this wasn’t a game for him, he wanted to be with her in every sense of the word

-

Hector had been to the right only for a few rounds before he got over with it. No one he cared for was fighting was the main thing, so he left early. He hated how he felt since the ball, it was like he was injured and no magic could cure it. He could have done anything, but he had gone home to chill out before his shift later that night

He hadn’t expected a knock at the door, everyone was at the event watching eachother fight, so who could it be….Darcy, it was Darcy at his door beautiful as ever and there he was looking so unimpressive. what was he meant to say? They were just stood there look at eachother like they hadn’t seen eachother in years. Then she kissed him… kissed him! In the last the only contact he was able to get before she pulled away was small and now she was giving him this! He wasn’t going to back away from the contact in fact he made to most of it, kissing her back a hand on the small of her back bringer her close to him “ how close do you want me to be?”

-

Darcy had not expected him to protest, no, but she was still relieved when he responded ardently to her kiss. It fought off some of her fears, most of them ridiculous, but some very real. He could have found another. It had been a few months after all, and she had practically openly rejected him. She was lucky Hector still wanted her. He could have moved on to some beautiful witch, or a werewolf, someone with whom he might have a future. Yet she could feel it in his kiss that he had not. “As close as you can possibly get,” she muttered against his lips, stealing yet another kiss. She felt drunk, and while she did have a few drinks earlier, it was nothing that could give her such a buzz. “You are not even allowed to be even one inch away from me.” She kept her lips on his as she pushed him backwards, Darcy barely knew where they were going, but she almost purred in satisfaction as he collided with his couch. She pushed him down to sit and quickly straddled his lap. “Actually, I want you closer than close,” she declared with a smirk, her fingers stroking his cheek.

“You want an explanation!?” Rhys yelled out not caring if it drew attention to them in that moment. It was long over due, almost 300 years over due and he felt like supernova that was about to explode. The only question was would he shine when he did or would he turn into the black hole that threatened to claim him. It always got stronger whenever he was near his mother and he knew that was a risk that he was taking when he came back to this city. This godawful city… 

When her finger came to his chest he grabbed her wrist keeping it firm and gentle before prying her off of him. “It’s too late for you to try to be a mother now so don’t even bother with the sad sob stories on how you looked for me or gave a damn that I was gone. We both know you didn’t care if I was hurt or not, you only cared because it made you look bad.” At least in Rhys’ eyes thats all his mother cared about; control and how she looked to others from the outside. As long as they bought every sad story she was off scott free. Again, at least how that’s how he saw it all his whole life. Besides if she even did care, like she was quote un quote ‘claiming’ that she did, she would have seen the signs of his depression years ago. 

No, that wasn’t the issue now. Not the time. 

“You want an explanation?” This time his voice was calmer as he took a few deep breaths trying to keep himself from exploding. “Leo, like myself, has a parent who is the absolute worst. Except of pretending to care about him, his father banished him and sent him away.” Rhys wasn’t sure what was worse the lies that came from Darcy’s mouth or the truth that came from Leo’s father’s. “He had no one so I ran with him because I love him. I know that is a foreign concept to you, mother.” The word was practically hissed out feeling like poison in his mouth. “Lia knew where I was. We passed letters the whole time I was gone and I even sent her small gifts of my travels….call me all you want but I would rather be a man like him than someone like you.” Perhaps it was a low blow but right now as he stood in front of his mother like this, the rage bubbling up inside him he knew it was true. Out of his two parents he would rather be like his father than give into the side that she gave him no matter how much it called out to him. 

-

Her mother had once told her that she became obsessed with things, that her ambitions blinded her to everything else, and Darcy knew it to be true with her children. After Zale ran off with his mistress, she only had eyes for his seat, a petty act of revenge, a means to prove herself strong without her husband. She had allowed Rhysand and Cordelia to slip through her fingers, not out of want, no, but simply because she could not be a mother while giving her all to get that seat. Once it was all done, it had been too late to waltz back into their lives, and expect them to welcome her back with open arms. They resented her for the choice she made. “You believe that I do not know you,” Darcy concluded coldly. “You obviously do not know me either.” Of course, she cared about his safety. She hated that she did, knowing it was softness, a weakness, but still she did not have it within her to not care. 

Not only was she angry Rhysand had left without notifying her, she was also angry on behalf of Cordelia, even if she knew her daughter would forgive her brother time and time again. “Oh, how benevolent of you,” Darcy growled. “As if trinkets and letters can make up for the fact you left her behind!” Sometimes, she had imagined Zale’s return to Myre Grove, she knew he would probably attempt a similar tactic, if he looked for forgiveness for all he had done to them, to her. “You might have inherited his talent for running away, but it is not him you take after, is it?” she asked, her tone flat and uncaring. She felt so numb now the anger had passed, knowing there was nothing she could do to mend the gap between them — while also knowing she would still die trying to protect him or Cordelia. In fact, she believed that would be how her life would end. An enemy of hers would spring forth from the woodworks, quickly figuring out the twins were her weakness, and use them against her, and she would sacrifice herself to keep them safe. No matter how Rhysand felt about her, she could feel he was more alike her than he’d ever confess. “I know you take after me, I can feel the darkness in you, dear,” Darcy observed, a part of her sad that the darkness had infected her child. She did not care about her son’s reasonings, all she cared about was that he had run away, maybe for more reasons than he realised himself. “You can run to the end of the world trying to get away from it, but trust me, it will always find you.” 

Ever since the Winter Ball, she had taken a turn for the worse in regards to almost everything in her life. She made bad decision after decision, drinking a little too much, hooking up, doing anything to forget how broken she really felt inside. She had tried to fill the hole in her chest with her position on the high court, but now that she had it, there was nothing to distract her from how empty her life was. Her ex-husband gone, her children hated her, and she had not let anyone come close enough to actually care about her — except for Hector. She had gone into a panic when he made it obvious that he cared about her, that maybe he even wanted to be with her, and even that she had managed to screw up. She had pushed him away out of fear, wanting to protect herself from hurt. At this point, she was unsure what she was protecting herself from. Surely, anything was better than that awful apathy, and deep inside, she missed Hector. She missed his smiles, his touches, the calming effect he had on her.

open; slaughter ring (between rounds) @calamitousstarters​

Copper and sweat clung to the air in thick, delicious layers. Sebastian’s head had been swimming throughout the entire night. He loved a good bloodbath. Add in drinks and a frenzied crowd and it was making out to be a perfect evening. He had a good spot for a few separate rounds, watching with darkened eyes one bloody fight after the next. A few conceded but he supposed that was to be expected. Not everyone was here to get their heads torn off like a trophy. Pity. Still a few matches managed to pique his interest. It wasn’t too hard to entertain him really. Between rounds he made his way to the bar setup, needing something bitter on his tongue.

“I’m starting to regret not signing up.” He muses to the person next to him, tapping his finger on his glass as he glances back over his shoulder at the ring with a sigh. “I didn’t realize I’d be itching for such a fight.” His tone was almost mockingly sad. “I suppose there’s always next year though. What about you. Think you’d be able to last?” He looks at them expectantly, an easy grin across his lips.

-

She had wanted to jump into the ring herself during the first round, her hands sweaty and her heart beating fast as Rhysand stood there in front of a nephilim. She had placed herself close to the ring, willing to interfere if necessary, willing to do anything to protect her child. Most looked at her with fear and sympathy when her son conceded without a fight, probably expecting her to be disappointed, and while her face was strictly neutral, she could only feel immense relief. She enjoyed watching a bloodbath, but not when it involved any of her dearest ones. After his exit, she could go back to enjoying the event. “Sign up next year, or simply jump in, no one really cares about the rules anyway,” Darcy said with a shrug. “Of course, I would if my job did not require a certain level of... diplomacy, should we say,” she answered with a smirk. “However, if I did sign up, I bet you that I would win without ever needing a weapon.” It did sound very cocky, of course, and she definitely was, but she could think of some dark magic that would make her a powerful contender. “What weapon would you use?” she asked, tipsy and satisfied enough to willingly make some small talk of the darker variety.

-

“There’s a good girl, that can be arranged. I’ll even give you an empty vial.” Azagi smirked, pulling another from her pocket. “Now you’re gonna want to be quick, because I’m not ripping my flesh open for you again, so if you miss it that’s on you. Ready?” Not everything is a game, Azagi… but it is fun to treat it as one. Still, nail tore through flesh as too dark blood started to flow freely.

-

She took the vial with an annoyed huff and caught the dark blood, already knowing Azagi would live to regret it — unless another use than petty revenge popped up. After collecting it, she put the vial in her pocket and removed the dagger from her leg while biting her lip to prevent herself from moaning in pain. “Next time, target one of the faelings,” Darcy grumbled while getting up on her feet. She brushed her coat as if it had not already been ruined by the blood from the wound. “They are less of a threat to you than me.”

Just trying to see how far I can get you to go… He pressed his lips together into a thin line as he looked up at her.  Once she stopped a foot away from him, he slowly grabbed on what he could, the nearby desk, the edge of the chair, anything that might be sturdy enough, and forced himself into a standing position. All the while, grunting and letting out hisses from the pain. 

He reached out and grabbed her by the arm, yanking her towards his body. “Never underestimate me, Darcy Darkwood.” He hissed, the pain continuously radiating throughout his body. But he knew how to gather strength; he knew he could beat whatever odds she had placed on him. 

When she pulled the knife out of her leg, he sighed and leaned back so he was standing. He was only an inch or so taller than her but as she sat on the ground he towered over her as he stood, giving the boy almost like a sense of authority; that she couldn’t control him anymore. “Coward?” The younger fae’s voice raised some as he scoffed and shook his head. “It was not a coward motion, mother. He needed help and– you know what, no. I don’t have to explain this to you.” Rhysand doubted that his mother could understand true love and why he dropped everything to run with Leo when there was no other choice. It was lose the man he loved or go with and it had taken him less than a second to make that decision. Why stay in a city that had nothing else for him when his life was about to walk away? “While I am pleased,” lies, “that you approve of my engagement, we had no idea that his brother was to be king when I asked.” Rhys had gotten down on one knee in Costa Rica five years ago asking Leo to be his husband before all the drama here exploded, before Saylor had picked the man she wanted to marry. He had no idea that when Leo said yes that he was to be married to the brother a king one day. So no, he didn’t do it for her and it did indeed irk him that she saw it that way. “You would have to ask him,” he said taking a step back so she could stand not offering any help. She was a grown woman she could do it herself. “I’m leaving the planning to him,” which was why it was taking five years to do so…

-

She could feel her own anger bounce off his, the hurt of his sudden exit, the worry-filled nights, and these feelings only kept growing as he spoke. She tried to listen, but all she could hear was the blood rushing in her ears, and all she could feel was the pain from her leg. “Cut the crap, you owe me an explanation after all these years!” Darcy suddenly exploded angrily, now surrendering to her most primal nature and taking off the mask of indifference. It would seem sudden to Rhysand, but years of hurt and frustration had built up and refused to be contained any longer. “Imagine how it feels to be told by someone else my son is gone, maybe forever, imagine not knowing where the hell he is or if someone has hurt or killed him after he skipped town.” She had gone into full meltdown when he left, scrambling to gather information, to get it confirmed that he was alive. She had been locked up in her office for days, but when she finally had come out, she had acted as if nothing was the matter. “Goddammit, Rhysand, I have had security on your ass since you were a child. When you left then you went out of my reach and I knew nothing.” She had so many enemies and every night for years, she dreamed someone got to him and killed him in relation for something awful she had done in the past. “You are no better than your father,” she accused while poking him in the chest with her finger. “Vanishing without a trace, leaving your sister behind, not caring who you hurt in the process.” Darcy could live with her children hating her, she could take all their taunts and punches, but damn it, she could not deal with them going beyond her protection. “One of the first things you do upon your return is twist a knife deeper into my flesh... How very symbolic, don’t you think?”

i never trust a narcissist but they love me so i play 'em like a violin and i make it look oh so easy 'cause for every lie i tell them they tell me three

                 the scene is not one that she expects to stumble upon - though she can’t say she is entirely disappointed by it. the smell is intoxicating after all. and it has been quite some time since she has sampled such a delicacy as fae blood. 

                               better not. 

       she was smarter than that. saw value in more than just a quick snack. even if she might fantasise about it for at least another century. dark eyes take in the surroundings, she has not survived this long out of sheer luck, and she is always listening to those senses that warn her of danger. nothing stands out. whoever has attacked this creature has since fled. lucky her. 

        closing the space between them, fallon crouches down next to the injured woman, curious gaze lingering on the pale features that grow increasingly paler. a delicate hand traces the fae’s cheek, head tilting as a smile graces crimson lips. “this is quite the predicament you have found yourself in, my love.” 

-

She pulled her cheek away from the stranger’s touch, she generally loathed being touched, but it was much worse being touched by someone she did not know. “Keep your nasty little hand away from me,” Darcy barked. She put her hand on the hilt of the dagger, but the pain was too much to bear, so she gave up on pulling it out. “I can get myself out of it, so feel free to take your leave.” It was clear this was no friend of hers — and she really did not need the threat of even more bodily harm. 

-

“That depends on what you consider deranged.” He let out a hiss as his forehead pressed against the cool floor. The pain was still there, radiating throughout his body, forcing him to stay down on the ground. He took a few deep breaths, focusing on anything else other than the pain. “And you are awfully needy for someone who just magically cursed someone else.” He chuckled as he pushed off of his hands and sat down on his knees. “Come here.” His voice was harsh, his eyes flickering up to meet hers. The pain was causing his muscles to spasm, his whole body to tense and lock up. And honestly, he hadn’t really wanted to fuck her before now. But now, he needed to, to prove a point. 

-

Darcy did not comment on his words, but she definitely did believe laughing like a maniac while being basically tortured did fit the profile of someone being deranged. Jasper was certainly dangerous, it was so important she kept him away from Cordelia, by all means necessary. She looked at him with a raised brow as he demanded she come. “I thought the agreement was you had to get to your feet,” Darcy replied cynically, but she did move from her seat on the desk. However, she stopped one step away from him, just out of reach. She tapped on her wrist with her finger to indicate he was running out of time. “Your minutes are almost up,” she proclaimed with a dramatic sigh. “If you cannot get up, you will have to accept defeat and leave. I do not let losers have their way with me.” 

-

“No, I don’t know who you are and I don’t much care for it either. Calm yourself, fae. I’m not doing this without offering a trade, I know your blood is precious. How about some of mine in return? Good poison for a vampire and I’m sure you could work it into something with your little magic.” Azagi countered, quickly capping the vial once it was full and putting it safely into her pocket. “Come on, little fae, there must be something you want from a demon rather than attempting to kill me. This dagger wound will be superficial at most. I know, I’m good with them. Though… If you do decide to fight, please remember I can get away in a blink of an eye. We don’t need to make a fool of ourselves now, do we?”

-

“You can flee me now but you would not be able to run from me forever,” Darcy retorted, her anger not waning. She cared more about being bled than the actual attack, she did not want anyone to possess her blood. It was far too risky to have it circulating among magical creatures, but she also knew the demon was right. Thinking fast, she was struck by an idea. “Fine, if a deal has to be struck, then I want a vial of your blood.” All she could focus on now was revenge. “I do foresee some vampire business in the future,” she lied smoothly. 

-

Dayanara gave nothing away with her expression, only looking down at the injured woman as she lay there, bleeding. “Hmm,” was the only sound that Daya made, looking away from the fae for a moment in thought. It was a quick enough answer that it must be true. A moment of honesty from someone in peril. “My apologies Ms. Darkwood,” Daya knelt next to the woman, pulled a small handkerchief from her pocket and dapped gently at the blood. It wasn’t going to help at all, but it was a nice enough gesture. Maybe. “You’ll understand my haste given the current situation with my people but I’m finding answers difficult to come by, and cooperative people even more so.”

-

Gods, she had really begun to loathe the merfolk, they were far too arrogant considering how much they relied on the fae to give them their legs. Darcy were one of the people to question whether the deal was truly fair or not — and she would definitely not soften her stance after this encounter. “Those are your troubles, you should not go around throwing knives at others to try and solve what’s rotten in your little kingdom,” Darcy huffed before pulling out the dagger and holding in her scream. “My people have no cause to hurt you, we have an arrangement, remember?” She would not forget about this, she swore. “I was not even at the bloody wedding.”