mvgickal-blog - Tumblr blog

[mvgickal-blog]

laveauxs‌:

letting out a snort jensen took the knife from the door. “you can have this back.” he held it out to her, not bothering to hide the smirk on his face. “this wont kill me, i’ve tried a few times actually.” he wasn’t trying to end up here but it was interesting to run into a witch here. “but i don’t want anything, just ran into you out here”

NOW SHE was annoyed. not that her character didn’t always reflect that of a diseased rat, but this guy, who seemed to have no other desire than to act a fool was on her turf. “you wandered into my house, gave me your life story and then made yourself all cozy, remember? not a fucking chance, get out before i make you wish you hadn’t come in.”

[mvgickal-blog]

laveauxs‌:

looking at the knife in the door for a second he brushed it off quickly, “don’t think anyone is dying.” he paused, “well if they are i don’t give a shit.” in this town there probably was someone being killed or dying. his eyes went around the shop, it wasn’t what he was used to but maybe she had something he was looking for. “i was wondering if you had something.”

HER FACE fell with his words. her expression turned impartial with disbelief, eyebrows raised as if asking ‘are you serious.?’ she heaved herself from the chair, a dramatic sigh soon following. “boyo you’re gonna have to be a lot more specific than that. i’ve got plenty of stuff here.”

[mvgickal-blog]

dareboldly‌:

the  sterling  residence  was  a  sight  to  see  in  warren  valley  alone .  built  from  the  ground  up  the  home  held  a  great  deal  of  sentimental  value  to  gabriel  ,  a  man  who  ONLY  once  saw  himself  living  in  a  penthouse  overlooking  the  los  angeles  skyline .  instead  he  found  himself  up  the  ladder  hanging  HALLOWEEN  DECORATIONS  (  per  his  wife’s  request  ) .  he  stepped  down  the  ladder  &  stood  behind  the  picket  fence  to  observe  his  half  completed  task .  ❝   ——— it’s  fucking  crooked .  ❞  he  rolled  up  the  sleeves  of  his  flannel .   ❝  for  fucks sake  .  it’s  not  that  noticeable  right   ?  it  adds  ….  character .  i’m  a  writer  ,  i  should  know  things  about  character .  ❞  

“ARE YOU taking the piss?” lydia said, her eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. “how the fuck should i know anything about decorating. do you just assume that everyone has an opinion on your tacky decorations?” she huffed. she was busy preparing her own shrines for halloween. lucifer, the asshole he was, often bothered her around this time. therefore she was forced to actually decorate, but not with stick on skeletons.

[mvgickal-blog]

rhiislcve‌:

warren valley had always been home to rhiannon. even with the curse, she had always loved it. even with the creatures, who she learned weren’t all scary after getting to know a couple. perhaps she was biased, but halloween had always been her favorite holiday. and somehow, after all these years, she never failed to grow bored of it all. it may always seem like halloween time, but to her, there was something special about the town when it was actually october, and she was always excited about it. “ it’s october first !! ” the girl exclaimed to nobody in particular. “ you know what that means !! ”

LYDIA WAS squandered away in her own dark corner, dealing in something nefarious no doubt. with a flash of white-blonde hair pallid face appeared in the shadows, examining rhiannon with nothing short of disdain. she pushed off the wall with a sluggish stroll towards her. “it means that you’re going to be loud?”

[mvgickal-blog]

gcldveins‌:

𝐭𝐡𝐞  𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫  𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠  𝐨𝐟  the  bell  rings  throughout  the  store  —  signalling  that  a  customer  has  just  entered  .  looking  up  from  his  sorting  ,  alaric  straightens  from  where  he  had  been  squatting  on  the  floor  and  wipes  the  palms  of  his  hands  off  on  the  front  of  his  jeans  .  ❝  hello  ,  ❞  he  greets  ,  attempting  at  a  smile  though  it’s  all  a  little  STIFF  .  ❝  can  i  help  you  with  anything  ?  ❞

LYDIA SNORTS her visage blank as usual. “no need for formalities i’m just here to pick up the newest edition of the plant encyclopedia.” she strolled farther into the store her fingers tracing the spines of the books. she shifted her weight onto her leg and glanced around the store. a book levitated from the top shelf into her hand and she made her way towards the cash register. 

[mvgickal-blog]

i have 26 messages and 13 drafts...they’re coming i promise

[mvgickal-blog]

just a lowkey ooc post to say (dick cheney made money off the irag war) come plot with me. that is all, you may now return to your regularly scheduled programming.

[mvgickal-blog]

scndman‌:

          his collar is home, on his bed beneath the cross that hangs there. a priest doesn’t belong here, it’s crude of him to believe he can flick that switch on and off whenever he wants. there’s a heavy sigh as he pushes his glasses up his nose, ignoring the knife beside him. “i need a talisman,” he can’t remember how many he’s gotten since he came to town, as many as he needed to stay hidden from his own mother. “please lydia.”

THERE’S A spark of annoyance at the b a s e of her spine. it travels like a virus, efficiently killing any peaceable feelings she had. “or what” she says, willing the knife back to her hand and plunging it into the wooden table. “you’ll burn me priest man?” her words are razor sharp, laced with arrogance and disdain. with a wave of her hand supplies are set out in front of her. “same as last time?”

[mvgickal-blog]

[mvgickal-blog]

ethcrcal‌:

THE SQUARE was close to silent; crips leaves whipped past the young woman’s exposed ankles. ana was practically DROWNING in thought, unable to focus on anything more than the few footsteps she was taking at a time. her feet seemed to lead her to a bar, where she sat ALONE. “just a water, please.” the brunette spoke softly, offering a weak smile. she was entirely unaware that she was in anyone’s company.

“WHO COMES to a bar to get a water girlie?” lydia said, taking a seat by her on the bar stool. she stirred her own glass, swimming with a light green absinthe. a revolting drink but it had taken her seventy years to develop a tolerance. “the wee one pushing you out for a drink tonight?”

[mvgickal-blog]

viindiictiive·:

     Mordecai froze in place, mid-step as the knife buried into the wood besides him. It took a few moments for his brain to reset from the holy fuck that was close shock. When he moved again, he continued his step and passively put his hands in his coat pockets. “I’ve got money,” He insisted. “And I’m afraid its business related to someone passed the point of dying… I simply and desperately need incense.” 

    After a moment of quick contemplation, he added, “I’d greatly appreciate it.” and, without turning away from the shopkeeper, wrapped his hand around the hilt of the knife and pulled it from the wood. He dared stepping forward into the shop. 

LYDIA SIGHED and made her way towards her cabinets. her reluctance was evident and the c h i l l i n e s s of her disposition seemed to transfer to the environment of her cabin. she opened the cabinet, revealing bundled sticks of incense wrapped in twine. she took one for herself murmuring something beneath her breath that sparked at the end of the stick. it’s sweet aroma drifted through the shop, smoke wafting in a serpentine spirals.

“take your pick.” she said gesturing to the cabinet. “must be someone awful important to come all the way out here. goddess knows we don’t need another restless spirit wailing about these parts." 

[mvgickal-blog]

“WE’RE CLOSED.” lydia barked. with a flick of her hand, a bone-handled knife had impaled itself by the door. the deep i r i s h lilt of her words made them seem even sharper. she huffed, pale hands spreading about the table she had been scrying on, and stood. “i don’t care who’s dying i said we’re closed. get your shite somewhere else.”

[mvgickal-blog]

lydia baek. ur local grumpy old witch who lives in the woods. intro under the cut. 

lydia baek was born october 24th, 1925 in dublin, ireland

her life was pretty much just one crap after another, she lost both her parents at a young age from disease and spent her childhood pickpocketing to survive.

by 1948 she was riddled with the same diseases that had taken to her parents, and in a desperate attempt to save her life she sold her soul

the next morning she awoke anew, perfectly young and healthy, blessed with the powers of witchcraft 

having spent 70 years as a witch she’s well practiced in the craft. 

her main struggle right now is her relationship with lucifer, she lowkey regrets selling her soul but there’s nothing she can do about it so 

as a person she encompasses nihilism and cynicism 

she hates everyone around her expect for her cat (elvira) 

she lives in a cabin in the woods where she sells herbs and potions and other witchy whatnot 

she’s basically a stone cold bitch 

but secretly she still wants to take care of people which is why most of her witchcraft goes into making magical medicinal cures 

but also she will cut a bitch, no hesitation 

my mind is all over the place rn, so like for plots

[mvgickal-blog]

[mvgickal-blog]

#big mood

[mvgickal-blog]

I am selfish, private and easily bored. Will this be a problem?

Neil Gaiman, A Study in Emerald (via wordsnquotes)

[mvgickal-blog]