#wxldchxld

[historiesandmemories]

continued from here with @wxldchxld

The smile Blair gave was toothy and rather less a smile than a showing of teeth. “It’s funny,” she responded, “Watch!” She grabbed the fox too her again and blew gently in her ears.

[ruinouss-archived]

     Arranged marriages were nothing new within her family; for generations they were arranged to strengthen the bloodline as well as political game. As the only child left unmarried, Faye knew it was only a matter of time before her parents found the perfect match for her. So far, she’d scared off any possible suitors they had introduced her to prior to setting up any marriages. And perhaps that was why they waited so long before introducing her to Harper but as soon as she laid eyes on the other witch she felt an eagerness to learn more of her.

     Not only was she beautiful but she was also powerful and deadly in every sense of the word. She still didn’t know every detail about her but imagined they’d end up learning more about each other as time went on. What she did know was she was a powerful with who owned quite a few businesses, dealt with necromancy, and had a bit of bite. Of course, the last was only a bonus. She needed someone who could match her own attitude and perhaps put her into place.

          “I’ve got to admit, I never imagined I’d be paired up with someone of your good looks and high standing,” she admitted. Lips pulled back into a sincere grin with a subtle hint of mischief. Her own family practiced binding spells, particularly ones where a human soul was involved. Humans would come with them for one reason or another and either offer part of their soul or the entirety in exchange for their wildest wishes to come true for a period of time. When their time was up they were to pay their debt or offer a new deal that would require more of their soul or some other they were willing to sacrifice. If they didn’t, then they’d be visited by the witch herself or one of the monsters they created.

Plotted starter for @wxldchxld​

[knowseverythingaboutyou]

@wxldchxld asked: 🚘Sitting with a popped tired on the side of a long stretch of road, waiting (Beck)

This was how horror movies started.

Maria sighed, tightening her scarf around her neck. She glanced up and down the road, the wind whistling back at her. The chances of them actually encountering a passing motorist was… low. She checked her cellphone again.

One bar. Could be worse, she could have no signal. But — she still wasn’t sure that the text had gone through to Natasha. “This is just delightful,” she said dryly, eyeing the fox in front of her. “And you ran off and left me on my own for an hour. I could have been murdered.” Not that she would have been, because, after all, Maria had a gun. Two if she opened the trunk.

Beck laughed as she turned back to a human, shrugging easily. “You can take care of yourself, Hill.”

Maria scoffed, leveling her with an unimpressed stare. “Not exactly the point there, Beck.” She looked towards the horizon, her frown deepening when she noticed how fast the light was disappearing. A wolf howled in the distance and Maria looked back at Beck quickly. “—you didn’t smell any werewolves out there, right?”

eerie atmosphere || accepting

[dilffactory]

@wxldchxld​ from [x]

“Ooooo, yeah, maybe don’t get up yet.” 

How does one explain the sudden earthquake, the blast of energy that put the girl onto her back, possibly giving her a concussion? The alien refugee camp isn’t a secret to most of the people in Broxton, nor in the government, but it is kept pretty mum to outsiders, particularly since the Asgardians and other assorted denizens keep to themselves and the interactions they have with the humans of the tiny community are pleasant and kind.

Except when things get out of hand, and there are attacks.

Those had been happening a lot more often, lately, and it was unfortunate that some random person passing through had taken the brunt of an errant blast of psychic energy, or whatever.

“Your bag?” 

Shit. Where was her bag?

“I think we have it upfront. Just.. lay back down, take a deep breath, chill for a second, okay? You’re safe, you’re going to be fine, we’re just going to take this piece by piece, alright?”

[graunblida]

‘tol and smol’ prompts   //   Accepting @wxldchxld​ said: [INTERRUPT] bc Beck does that shit all the time

Leksa simply looked on, hands on her hips, as the witch removed herself from their discussion to search for an item to stand on. Beck would randomly do this whenever she became hyper-aware of the height distance between the two. The commander could not make much sense of it. Did she feel more of an equal? Leksa never felt as though she were talking down to Beck, at least not FIGURATIVELY. Before she could stop the witch from going for the chair, the dreaded scrapping sound filled the immediate area of the tower once more. Leksa likened it to nails dragging across a coarse surface. “ Enlighten me....does this somehow enhance our conversation? ” 

[tribridkissed]

@wxldchxld​​ gets a random starter

Sometimes, being here in the school rubbed Hope the wrong way, and it bothered her that it did. After all of the bullying, and the dependency, moments of actual SILENCE, ate aware at her until she was nothing but an agitated mess. Luckily, Beck’s appearance helped her to fill the silence with someone else’s breathing, and that at least calmed her down...for now. “I swear that not a day goes by that I don’t wish more people were loud and obnoxious.” For which she would definitely STILL complain about them to their face, but chaos to Hope, was infinitely better than the absence of it.

[stcriestcld]

@wxldchxld​ said: 🧦 "I made you some socks to protect you from Jólakötturinn! And a sweater. And a hat. And gloves. Oh and a scarf. And yes you do have to wear them to work... For protection!"

“What in Heaven’s name is Jóla---”  She knew a half-dozen languages, and none of them were Nordic; she opted for giving up before she mangled the word.  “What am I being protected against?  I can’t wear a jumper to work; it’s not in dress code.  And I certainly can’t wear a hat and gloves all day.”  The jumper part was a bit of a lie; Ros was just preparing to negotiate with the little knit-happy witch.

[vyrulent]

starter call || @wxldchxld​

Blood stained her lips while her victim remained near unconscious. Never could she bring herself to take the lives of those she had to drink from to sustain her life. Van Helsing’s words still rippled in the dark realms of her mind -- she’d be damned to Hell, which was why she kept death far from her. It would be one more sin added to the roster. 

“Stay away,” the vampiress was quick to say as she backed away, moving closer to her warmblooded meal, fangs momentarily shown in animalistic behavior to scare the other away from her and her meal.