#darkestbeforedxwn

Though Lucifer might have thought otherwise, Lilith had always known it was only a matter of time before Sabrina sought out the little clay prince. Despite all her teachings to the girl, reminding her to let no man have power over her, that as the reigning Morningstar she must be beholden to no one....there was nothing that ever kept Sabrina away from her...relentless boy obsession for long. It had been a few months, admittedly, slightly longer than Lilith expected but there was something different about Sabrina in general, something odd....something off, that she was determined to get to the bottom of. 

But for now....re-introductions were required. She and the Dark Lord had remained at the throne when Sabrina brought him in, and Lucifer had kept his hand around her waist throughout. It could be conceived as mere possession, making sure his handmaiden wasn’t straying too far, but the fact his hand rested more on her stomach than anything was revealing.....despite his efforts, he was growing attached, which would make Lilith’s eventual plans all the easier. She just had to suffer the...disgust she felt at his touch until then. Grateful when he moved away to talk to Sabrina, releasing his hold, Lilith stepped down to meet the boy-of-clay.

“Well if it isn’t our darkly handsome prince” She smirked, “How are you feeling after your little nap in the stone?”

Her initial reaction to his claim was to scoff, so she did. Hadn’t slept with her? Of course he had. Although thinking back on it, she’d seen the change, in both him and the town. And there had even been times where she’d tried to...woo him and he’d steadfastly resisted her.

It was a bit humiliating, really. Milah groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to push that whole mess of feelings away. Whether he didn’t touch her due to respect or revulsion didn’t really matter, the fact was, he hadn’t. Hell, he’d even...cuddled her when she’d felt horrible about it all. And she still had the flowers, hung up to dry in her studio.

Confusion was still strong when he brought up their son. She froze for a moment as he spoke. For Bae. For Bae. For Bae for Bae for Bae. Do it for Bae. What about Bae. “Don’t do that!” she shrieked before she could think. “You don’t get to--”

She cut herself off, remembering bits of what he’d said about the dagger. That wasn’t the sort of power she wanted. It wasn’t that it would be cheating, but any victory gotten through the dagger would be hollow. So she bit her tongue and thought. “If I give this back to you, you cannot use him against me again. This,” she flicked the tip back and forth between the two of them. “Cannot be like it was the first time around. Do we have a deal?”

A deep sigh escapes Jam’s lips, the sorceress leaning over her spellbook. For what felt like the hundredth time, her eyes scanned the instructions for the potion she was working on. For a few weeks, she had been feeling off, like someone, or something, was calling out to her, like someone was trying to find her or connect with her in some way. She felt it constantly; during the day, while she slept, while she was having sex with Finn... needless to say, she was fed up.

She sat alone in her studio-slash-office in the Corona palace. Finn was somewhere in the palace, she assumed. He hadn’t told her he was leaving, and she had told him where she would be spending the day. It felt like it had been hours since she last moved, but she wanted to make sure she got this potion right.

Only ingredient left is some of your own blood, the sorceress thinks to herself. She sighs again as she reaches into her bag and pulls out her old favorite switchblade. With a low groan, she pokes her finger and allows her blood to drip into the cauldron in front of her. The moment her blood touches the surface, however, the potion sparks, surprising Jam to the point where she jumps back. 

The room fills with smoke and Jam groans softly. She definitely hadn’t been expecting that. She sits up, and as the smoke clears she realizes she’s no longer alone in the room, “Jay?” She tilts her head at her older twin brother as she clears some of the smoke with a wave of her hand. What she sees next has her jumping to her feet. Jay is banged up, bruised, and in all around bad shape. She hadn’t seen him like that in years. Not since they left the Isle, “Jay!” Jam hurries to her brother, her eyes full of concern, “Holy shit! What the fuck happened to you? Who did this to you? Are you okay?” 

They made it out.

Between Sara’s knowledge of Nanda Parbat’s underground catacombs and John’s ability to track now that he was out of the cuffs - which was impressive to see in action - they’d escaped the League of Assassins. There was no doubt in her mind that they already knew they were gone, and both she and John were living on borrowed time. But that just meant they had to keep moving, that they had to stay ahead of them for as long as possible. And so far the escape route she had set up - which had involved using every contact the League was unaware she even had - was working. She and John had gone from car to car to boat and now to a beat up truck to get her closer and closer to home. But they were both running on fumes and, knowing little of how his healing abilities worked, she was still worried about him recovering from everything that happened back in Nanda Parbat. So she pointed over at an old motel, asking, “What do you think? Get a night or two of sleep in before driving the rest of the way?”

@darkestbeforedxwn

Clarice had been sound asleep with her head on John’s chest when he started to move, to almost writhe. And then she could hear it - the sound of his heart slamming into his ribcage. She sat up, gently calling out to him, trying to wake him up but she wasn’t reaching him. He wasn’t hearing her, and she was just about to shake him awake when he suddenly sat up. “You’re home, you’re safe,” she tried to reassure him, but his eyes looked dazed, his skin coated in sweat as he fought to regulate his breathing. She reached out to press a hand to his face, nodding in confirmation to his words, “It was a dream. But it’s over - it’s over, John, and you’re safe.”

@darkestbeforedxwn

Cara held both hands up in surrender, meanwhile pleading with Oliver, “He’s not. What you’re seeing... It’s not real. This is a spell, this is witchcraft... If you do this, you’re going to kill an innocent man. You won’t be protecting your city, you’ll be hurting it. So please, please... Don’t do this.”