#millennicl

[xhelenaxleblancx]

@millennicl cont. X.

          For Helena LeBlanc this was just another GOOD OL’ FRIDAY NIGHT -- Daddy had parked the trailer out in the boondocks that skirted the border of New Orleans. Wanted to be as FAR AWAY from civilization as possible. As to teach his daughters the way a’ the Lord without JUDGMENTAL EYES. Even the other Christians would look down on his methods -- when they involved locking his girls in closets for weeks, starving them, beating them, and the occasional nightly visit to Helena’s bed. To teach her how to be STRAIGHT. Suffice to say, after the lights went out and daddy was knocked out drunk on the floor -- slobbering all over the place like a FILTHY Saint Bernard, the redhead hoisted the window open and climbed outside. A regular occurrence. 

         Next few hours were filled with Brit (one of her whores she’d called up), booze, meth, and doing doughnuts through tall grass in her beat up ol’ Chevy. SCREAMING RECKLESSLY along to punk music. No care in the world if she wound up in a ditch somewhere -- a few times the blonde bimbo had pointed out how “spooky” it was. In which the sociopath LAUGHED IN HER PRETTY FACE. She didn’t believe in all that hocus-pocus bullshit.

          Now, here they were, parked in the middle of the crops -- Brit was passed out drunk and high. Three orgasms had wore the poor (lucky) thing out. Leaving Helena BORED. “Hey, wake up. I’m horny an’ bored.” Emaciated redhead reached across the center-console of her truck and slapped the bitch across the face. NO GOOD. She was out cold. Letting out a loud, CHILDISH sigh, she fumbled with the handle -- pushing the driver-side door open. Plunging out into lengthy grass. Bottle of vodka gripped firmly in her hand. “Yer no fuckin’ fun.” In her intoxicated state, she EASILY lost track of time. Roaming ‘round. Swatting at grass. Catching bugs. Backing swigs off booze. Thinking she heard something, only to trip over feet and LAUGH. “Brit really got in my head. Ain’t no so such thing as ghosts.”

          What she happened upon, was WEIRDER than a ghost. Some crazy person setting up Satanic markings in the field or some shit. Candles. Symbols. Doped up fucker couldn’t even tell if this was REAL or some sort of HALLUCINATION. If it was a hallucination, it was the most obnoxious one she’d ever had. Brows shot up and hands raised defensively, “Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm the fuck down, lady. I come in peace.” Helena even held out the vodka as a ‘peace-offering’. “Jus’ breathe. Count ta ten. We’ll get ya back ta the crazy house where ya belong, promise.” DRUNKEN LAUGHTER tumbled over lips and she moved closer, shaking her head at the display. Kicking one of the candles over. “If y’were try’na summon the Devil, ya succeeded. I’ll give ya three wishes but ya gotta take yer clothes off.” 

[highbredblood]

@millennicl

[+] So contrite for a soul, revived. The hazel in her gaze has been woven thick with absence from this loss. For the constant fight to prove that she remains loyal to her sisters, yet she continues to be shunned for mistakes made by a jaded, Hollywood witch of her past. It’s not at all strange to find a likeness in an enemy, Michael believes, but rather a quintessential cocktail of intrigue and potential. “They use you.” It’s a wonder, how that silken voice can sound so unbearably blunt in it’s finer moments. Circling around the corpse of Behold, jeweled hands meet at the small of his back, the hard wood floor of his childhood home creaking beneath his paces. “They sent you here because they consider you disposable, and yet you aim to return to them with all that you’ve learned here.” Her shoulder is met with the soft touch of digits, fanning over the exposed flesh there as a whisper slithers into her ear. “What a cruel way to live, striving for acceptance.. It wasn’t until I’d abandoned that idea, myself, that I was truly blissful.”

[seraphicae-moved]

     SHE LEANS OVER THE STARLET’S CORPSE , gently smoothing tangles of blonde hair back from her face . Zoe didn’t have to do this –– she knew that . Kyle had tried to convince her of such , and he made a valid point . If Madison wouldn’t do it for her , why should Zoe do it ? But she would never have been able to sleep peacefully if she didn’t , and she’d explained that back to Kyle . He’d given in , telling her where Madison’s body was and it wasn’t long before the girl had been laid out on the grass and Zoe prepared herself to perform the spell . It felt oddly disrespectful to keep Madison’s murderer in proximity , so Zoe had sent him away . Alone , she could focus . Alone , she would bring Madison back . ❝ I’m here , ❞ she whispers , carefully leaning over her as eyes shut and she focuses on the    V I T A L U M   V I T A L I S    spell , breathing life back into the other witch .  

&& @millennicl​ !

[baxterwitch-blog]

@millennicl

It wasn’t everyday that you got sent to a secret witch boarding school, was it? However, for Sabrina, she wish she hadn’t been sent at all. She was satisfied with her life at Baxter High-- in Greendale. Sabrina didn’t care about witch training. Wasn’t she get enough of that in the books her aunties had given her? What kind of school was this anyway? Sabrina needed to learn more than magic-- how was she going to have a normal life? Or was math not apart of that equation? 

On second thought, maybe a witch boarding school wasn’t so bad after all. Sabrina hurried up the steps to the building-- it didn’t look like much of a school. In fact, it wasn’t much bigger than her own house.

Upon entering the home, suitcase in hand, the young witch was greeted by a woman claiming to be the Headmistress of the Academy. This must be the woman her aunties were telling her about-- the one they’d spoken to on the phone.

Immediately, Sabrina was met with continuous praise and sweetness from the Headmistress, such things like ‘We expect great things from you, Miss. Spellman’. Apparently her family had had a surprisingly magical history. Its strange-- why was she just hearing about it now?

When Sabrina had developed her abilities, her aunties finally confessed their lineage to her. The Spellmans were a powerful family within the magical world long ago. So, why was she the only one with abilities? There was so much Sabrina still didn’t understand about this world she’d been so abruptly thrown into.

It was then, when Sabrina was looking around the room, that’s when she spotted something she recognized.

“Hey!” Sabrina hadn’t meant to interrupt the Headmistress, but she couldn’t help herself. There was a girl, sitting in the large windowsill on the left side of the room. She didn’t look particularly amused. “I know you! You’re Madison Montgomery, right?”

[shesurvive]

@millennicl​

         AT   LAST  ,   THERE   IS   AWARENESS   !   she    knows    something    has    gone  horribly   ,    horribly    wrong    before    she   even   opens    her    eyes    .          FAINT    IS    THE   SOUND     OF    RAGGED    BREATH     ON    HER    LIPS    ,   the    drumming    of    her    heart     in    her    ears   ,    a   low    and    steady     thrum    ,    is    all    she    hears    .       there    is    no    resurrection     for    those     already    living    !         she    raises    a    hand     as    she    lingers    in    quiet   ,      begs    MERCY    from    the    agony    in     her    skull    .       a      hiss    uttered   from    cherry    glossed     tiers     ------   her    hand    retracts    like    she’d    been   bitten   ,     forgetfulness    a    venomous    snake   !       the    digits    come    away    clean    ,   because   a    wound      has     already     dried     shut    .

        honey    hues     find    darkness    when    she    opens    them    .     not    pitch    ,   the   silhouette    of    the   chandelier    above    her     is    outlined    from    the    presence     of    the    moon     ,      the    air    is    still    ,    RIPE    WITH    THE    SCENT     OF    DEATH    .        her   body    goes    on    full    alert     ,     memories    flood    like    a    dam    had    SHATTERED    ,     she    knows     what    lay    around    her    ,     she    knows     and    she     can’t     bring     herself     to    look    .      yet     she     does     stir    anyways   ,     responsibility     overbears    fear    .       it’s     harder    to    push    into     a    sitting    position     than    she    anticipated    ,     the    thrum    in    her    head    grows     aggressive     .        AIR    FORCES   from    her    lungs    as    she   chokes    ,    eyes    befell    fallen     sisters    ,    their    white    gloves    stained     red     .     some    bore    puncture    wounds     from   nails    ,    from    charmed    jars    ,     from    nails     she     had    thrown    .       these    witches    !     their    blood   was   spilled    from    her    own    carelessness     !      

               the    smell       is     overwhelming    ,     weakened   limbs    twist    as    she    turns    to    heave   ,    face    contorted    in   agony    .     it     was     silent    as    the    dead     ,    apart    from    dry    coughing    .     her    gaze    falls     on    queenie’s    still    figure     ,     her    heart    screams     for     the    fallen    witch    ,    for    a    dear     sister    .      air    hisses    through    her    teeth    as    a    sob    works     in    her    chest    ,     she   inches    on    injured   palms    and   scuffed    knees    ,    desperate    to    close    the    gap    between     herself    and    queenie    .             ❝         no     ,      no  -----------   ❞            tears    turn    into    sounds     as     she   cries   ,    a    loud   ,    hollowed     thing     that   echoes     in    still     walls    .               she     knows     !      MICHAEL    HAD    PROMISED    ,     THE    ANTICHRIST    A    MAN     OF     HIS     WORD     .           damned     are     agents     of    the    devil    ,     sentenced    to    the    unknown     by    his      right    hand    ,    his    voice    on    earth    .            she     knows     that     place     ,     a    familiarity    she    would    never     wish    upon    anyone      .           

                 she     senses    another    before    she    sees    them     ,    an    ability     not    fully    mastered    ,    but  close     to    it    .            the    arrival    has    her    forcing    her    hand    against     her    lips    to    stifle     the    noise    ,     she     feels     her     heart    thrumming     in    her    chest    .        she     fears     the    worst      ,    has   he     come    back    to    finish    what     he’s     started      ?    -------    were    there    still    OTHER    WITCHES   beyond     these     walls    ?             the    suggestion    has    her    pushing    away     from   queenie    ,       to    inch    around    carnage    in   a   slow    crawl     towards     the    door    .          hands    and    knees    graduate    to   shaking     feet    .      zoe     grips    fast     to    the    door      frame    ,     afraid    to    take    another     step    forwards     without     the    stability    under    her    hands    .           an     easy     target       yet    again    !      a    sitting    duck     for     someone    who     already    had     the    upper     hand    .

[adversariie]

@millennicl  ♥ this for a starter.

A heavy-lidded gaze watches the familiar blonde enter Robichaux. Last Mallory had heard, she was gone--and the other one...she was lost in the Hotel Cortez...and there was Misty...someone Zoe had mentioned, yet here came Cordelia with ALL of them. Though Mallory is...happy, she has this overwhelming sense of dread. That something bad was going to happen. There’s a troubled expression on her face as she walks from the window to take a seat on her bed. Unfortunately, Mallory wasn’t aware that the room she had settled in was once Madisons.

[bluntache]

i. plotted starter ft. @millennicl

the school on the news seemed the best place to start . he’d seen the big wig cordelia on the news advertising a school for special girls but he hadn’t thought much but a cheap joke about it being a sexy special school . truly , he hadn’t thought about much about it after that . not until rumors of the end started circulating . until the hunter’s network started catching wind that special was code for witches & the witches knew something , or at least that’s why the hunters thought . he raised his hand , knuckles just about to touch wood as it opened . striking beautiful , blonde  &  dressed in black , he nearly steps back , surprised .  was he expected? were they mind readers too ?

“oh - shi- i mean , uh , i’m dean - i.”      he swallows hard . embarrassed by his lack of finesse . he was never this thrown off . but something in her eyes was hard to place . he cleared his throat , throwing on a classic fake smile . his best good boy impression .  “i’m dean winchester -- i was hoping to speak to ms. goode.”

[enouxment-a-blog]

@millennicl

           “gotta light??” his lighter just WASN’T WORKING today. quite frankly, he’s pissed about it. but what’s he going to do about it now?? nothing except ask for a light. he glances over at the stranger, eyes running up and down her frame. “what’s with all the BLACK getup?? goin’ to a FUNERAL or somethin’??” like he had room to talk. he almost always dressed in full black - in fact he was today.