#wiitchbxtch

“Well, you will be armed, but not exactly with a weapon. And you won’t really be alone”

@wiitchbxtch​ sent: Ѡ to Rose Red ( Meme / Accepting )

“Dios mio,” Red lips parted in whispered shock, brown eyes blown wide as she stared at the image before her. It was most definitely Madison. Even if Rose Red had never seen this much of her, the Charmington Princess would know the archer anywhere. Thoughtfully, the Princess chewed on her bottom lip. What was the nicest way of moving forward from this? Should she delete it? Pretend that the message was never received and politely avert her eyes every time they competed against each other? Nails drummed against the table before Rose deleted the photo, and texted back.

>> I’m pretty sure that wasn’t for me . . . . unless it’s some weird diversion tactic before our next match

>> It’s not though, right?

poetry sentence starters || accepting

@wiitchbxtch​ said:   “ you’ve gotten so used to being hurt that happiness scares you. ”

Though she had made the offer willingly, without coercion, without any hand being forced, Lilith hadn’t really prepared herself for the reality of someone living with her in such close proximity so....constantly. And the cottage was small and had only one bathroom, just as there was only one kitchen, one living room...one everything. 

For the fifth morning in a row, Lilith near collided with Madison in the small upstairs landing between the bedrooms. “Oh!” She exclaimed in surprised, before sighing in frustration. “Perhaps we should start to...follow a schedule” She spoke through a tight smile, only partly joking, "Or a one-way system” Realising Madison had been heading towards Lilith’s room rather than her own, she added, “Did you want something?”

Her only knowledge of the Prophecy had been what the Dark Lord had told her. According to him, it was recorded nowhere, there were no written accounts, no...folkloric tales, that he and Lilith were the only two beings in all the realms that knew of the prophecy that would free him from the confines of his...twisted form and his binds to Hell. 

But that hadn’t exactly been true. No, he’d simply told her that and she’d trusted him...but he’d lied, as the Prince of Lies always did, even to her. He’d wanted to hide the hidden details of the prophecy, the details that would have ensured her own loyalty would be broken, that she would be...disinclined to see it realised. That in the end, the prophecy wouldn’t signify that Lilith would finally take her place as Queen, the place she had worked for for so long, the crown she had earned.....no, that place, all of it, would go to Sabrina. Lilith would be neither his Herald or his Queen; Sabrina would be both.

Once Mr Scratch had released her from his binding spell (and Lilith had snatched her rib from his hands so violently, that her red nails had scratched his skin) she’d held out some hope that they’d be in time. She might not particularly like Nicholas, especially after his....little trick with the rib, his way of...taunting her while she sat trapped in her chair, but Lilith knew the value of allies in the most....unlikely and unappealing of places, and if they all wanted the same thing....she was wiling to work together. 

But they’d been too late. As always, the Dark Lord has gotten his way, and Sabrina had fulfilled the prophecy; ironically, in some ignorant attempt to thwart it. But then the half-mortal was always more inclined to act first and think later. Exactly what was needed in a Queen of Hell, of course, Lilith had thought to herself sarcastically. 

And now....now the prophecy had been fulfilled and Lucifer would walk the earth in his true form once more....and as Lilith returned to the cottage to...prepare herself, she began to truly realise all the ramifications. 

It was no secret that the Dark Lord had a temper, as well as a...tendency to grow bored quickly. In both cases, he liked to turn to Lilith as his choice of punching bag, metaphorical or literal. While he was reasonably bound in Hell, unable to leave for more than short periods, and his twisted form limited his power and access, Lilith had always been able to use her freedom of the realms to escape him when she needed some...time away. 

That would no longer be possible. Wherever she went Lucifer would now easily follow. He’d always find her, no matter how much she might wish to...be alone. If he chose to make her his punching bag for the day, she’d have no where to run to, no realm to secret herself away in....he’d wander freely and he’d seek her out. The thought, despite herself, made Lilith’s chest clamp with fear.

She had told herself for so long that she still loved him and that he still loved her, that the man, the beautiful angelic man she had met all those millennia ago was in there, hidden beneath that twisted form and...tormented into cruelty by the confines of Pandemonium. But with his freedom came a....fresh reality. A reality in which Lilith couldn’t deny that she knew his cruelty was no more likely to end than it was likely for him to finally offer her the throne she so sorely deserved. 

She was trapped....more so than ever. Only now it was even worse....she’d have to bow to that...self-righteous little half-breed, and watch the girl sit in her throne, wear her crown, while the Dark Lord commanded Lilith do her work as his hand and soldier, and then summoned her to...ease his boredom. For so long she’d seen the prophecy as freedom and power for them both, that the coronation would be theirs to share and finally, finally she’d have the respect, the power, the position she deserved. She’d rule as he’d always intended her to do. 

Feeling everything crashing down around her, Lilith almost crumbled as she reached the cottage, as if the last ounce of strength in her, that....continuous resilience, was finally breaking. If this was it, if the prophecy was fulfilled and Lucifer was free and would make Sabrina his Queen...then what was left? What, exactly, did the future hold for Lilith, but a life of....servitude? Everything she’d sworn never to do, never to be, when she fled the Garden. 

When the Dark Lord had...murdered Adam, she’d vowed to make him suffer. To destroy what he loved as he’d done to her...but instead here she was, alone, defeated...while Lucifer would have everything. As would the girl....whether she wanted it or not.

Taking a deep, rallying breath, Lilith attempted to strengthen herself, to ready for the....inevitable meeting ahead. He’d be expecting her. But she’d have to change, she’d have to get dressed into something more...fitting, fix her hair. Though whether it was for her own sake or for his, she genuinely didn’t know. Not anymore. 

Part of her knew there was still a fight, that it wasn’t really in her to ever entirely give up but....

But she was just so tired. 

“You know them, don’t you? You were...raised by them, adopted by them? Then move them. Make them....move along. Convince them to find somewhere else to make...whatever it is their making. Camp, is it?” Lilith rolled her eyes heavily as she heard the loud sounds of men’s voices carry through all the little, irritating tents that had cropped up in the woods. She took a deep breath, “I need the woods. It’s where I work. It’s what I need to do....the things I do” And as it suited Lilith currently to remain in Storybrooke, to not..cross that line when there was no way of coming back, not even if she needed to, she couldn’t exactly risk mob mentality rising to the occasion and throwing her out after she let the camp burn in hellfire. 

No, a more subtle approach was needed and a....mayor-approved one at that. 

“So....” She glanced at Madison, and gestured in the direction of the ‘Merry’ men. “Make them leave” The sound of one of them burped loudly, followed by ‘manly’ laughter throughout caused Lilith to glare. “Before I...murder them and feed them to the crows in my garden one by one”

“I’ve never really had a need to be too concerned about all the mischievous things that thrive on the longest night; any lighting of the Yule Log is more habit than need but....” Lilith paused as she poured a drink for herself and for the younger witch, “It is the best time for any sort of spellwork...our powers are amplified, you see. A threefold effect. Especially for hexes” She held out the glass to Madison, “I imagine you always had a mortal Christmas before you realised who, and what, you are”