#soulstcne

[mecharex2]

"As it was, clerics transformed into the most hideous beasts"

[huntrcsss]

@soulstcne

“...Please tell me you got some strong coffee, like - wake me from the dead kinda coffee.” Least, something she can mix with the irish creme in a small bottle in her bag.

[nightmdic]

      “I’m sorry to be keeping you up like this - suppose I just needed some company for a bit...”

@soulstcne

[unvendaval]

@soulstcne gets donna sheridan !

mama said france wasn't the big thing . but donna , she felt mesmerized about the very pavement she walked through . platform boots on one hand , her bag in the other , she's having her walk of shame from some boy's apartment to , hopefully gather her things & finally , head to kalokairi . a calling like no other , she smiles with the thought . she sits on a bench , only then realizing a lady had occupied it before her . donna sighs , honey hues looking around before the intrusive thoughts win , and she talks to the other .

" don't you think it's cool here ? wait . are you french ? i don't really speak french - "

[chingonaclawsarchive]

@soulstcne.

Laura's never been a big fan of the 'magic' elite as she'd call them. She doesn't like when someone can see into the future, or predict an outcome. To her, it's better left unsaid, better left undone. Had she known or been any the wiser she would've lost everyone and anyone she ever cared for, she's not sure she would've handled the loss as well -- not that she's been particularly sane about it, in fact some might consider her unhinged. However. She's far more calm than she would've been had she known there was nothing that could be done to halt the losses. In her world, death isn't particularly final -- but it still adds a shot to the gut.

Laura's been at it for hours, punching, kicking, clawing at the many bag she'd gone through, allowing her frustrations to pour out in grunts and growls -- knuckles red with faded bruising and remnants of her claws. She sits against the cold brick wall, sucking in a deep breath before her eyes meet the other, a firm, exhausted and knowing glare.

"What do they want?" The Avengers, Tony...any of them...

[peakyblinder]

@soulstcne​​ :   nightmares﹕ sender  wakes  receiver  from  a  nightmare .

𝐭𝐡𝐞  𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲  𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠       of  their  shared  car  trundling  down  unkept  roads  lulls  the  weary  soldier  to  sleep .    deprived  of  two  night’s  sleep  with  untold  fears  and  bound  stress  clawing  at  the  back  of  heavy  eyes  had  knocked  tommy  into  ravenous  dreams .     there’s  no  peace  for  him  in  sleep ,     there  his  mind  has  scope  for  greater  tortures  than  the  waking  thoughts  that  drip  drip  drip  permanently  into  his  mind  like  water  from  a  leaking  tap .    broken ,    indeed .    tommy  was  fucked  long  ago .

his  embellished  memory  is  worse  than  the  event  itself .    it  wasn’t  that  bad ,    he’d  tell  himself ,    but  it  is  a  half  hearted  lie  that’s  started  to  wear  thin ,     it  barely  worked  anymore .    dirtied  fingernails  claw  at  his  throat ,    bury  into  his  flesh  and  pull  to  expose  what  sits  beneath ;    hell ,   pure  hell  bleeding  from  his  bones ,   seeping  into  his  skin  to  mark  everything  he  touches .     the  enemy’s  hands  are  upon  his  soaked  throat ,   applying  their  weight  to  block  the  shelby’s  airways .    there’s  no  strength  in  him  to  fight  back ,    barely  an  ounce  of  will  to  survive  the  prolonged  death  sentence  unto  him  years  ago .    but  then  they  stop ,   their  weight  harshly  removed  from  his  windpipe  to  sit  back  and  view  the  state  of  the  dying  man  beneath .    his  broken  lips  part  to  speak ,    to  beg  they  finish  their  work .   heavy  arms  lift  from  the  muddy  floor  to  find  their  hands ,   dragging  them  back  to  the  red  of  tommy’s  exposed  neck .    with  little  strength  he  applies  pressure  to  their  bloodied  fingertips ,   pressing  digits  into  his  throat  to  make  him  choke  on  poison  air .   he  can’t  stand  it  when  fingers  slip  from  beneath  his  hands ,    their  smile  bringing  frustrated  tears  to  bloodshot  blue  eyes ,    a  tremble  to  lips  doused  with  iron  and  whiskey .     he’s  sick  of  the  taste .     there’s  no  time  to  register  the  swift  movement  they  make  above  him ,    hands  punching  down  hard  upon  his  chest  to  break  the  skin ,    to  break  muscle  and  bone .      a  ringing  voice  dulls  the  sound  of  breaking  flesh ,     a  concern  that  cannot  be  paired  with  the  grinning  mouth  of  the  soldier  above  him .     mr  shelby !   wake  up !

he  lurches  forward  in  his  seat ,     gasping  for  air  as  hands  are  thrown  to  his  chest .    gloved  hands  meet  a  solid  surface  where  he  expects  mulch ,    and  wide  blue  eyes  instinctively  survey  blackened  gloves  for  blood .    tommy’s  lost  in  the  moment ,    overcome  with  bewilderment  and  a  foul  glimpse  of  disappointment .      eyes  find  the  passing  landscape  first ,   then  to  the  back  of  his  drivers  head .                               ‘  mr  shelby ? ‘                            now  he  feels  dread ,     an  apprehension  for  the  concern  his  eyes  are  to  be  met  with  when  he  finds  her  seated  beside  him ,   her  hand  still  upon  his  arm .    he  swallows ,     and  merely  glances  at  her  from  the  corner  of  burning  eyes  to  nod .                               ❝  i’m  alright .   just  a  dream . ❞                          

[acertainfemininemystique]

 ☁️  𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬  ☁️

@soulstcne asked: ❛ Be all the beautiful things you are, and be them without apology. ❜

SHE'S BEING nice , she reminds herself . she's just trying to be nice . raven lets out a slow sigh .

❝ look , ❞ she starts , as gentle as she is capable of being , ❝ i - - appreciate the sentiment . and that you're trying to help . but i have heard a lot of preppy platitudes in my life . they kinda lose their efficiency after awhile , you get me ? ❞

[lindscys]

@soulstcne​ ♡’d for a starter (still accepting) ! song: fourfiveseconds, rihanna & paul mccartney.

“i’m just tryna make it back home by monday morning.”

[crowshoots]

@soulstcne said — what more can be said? what other pleas or comforts can be offered to bring about some sort of an understanding, a firm assurance that they can trust her? it's impossible to think of them. not when they face so much danger every single day. kaz might wake up in the morning with a new plan. wylan might create a phenomenal device that could have half of ravka pounding at their door. nina's powers, inej's reputation as the wraith, matthias's past... it's nothing any one person should bear the brunt of. nothing that someone of jesper's abilities should have to face alone. she glances at her, then, hesitantly, reaches out and touches their shoulder. her voice is just as gentle as her touch, a sincere, concerned whisper: " jesper... "

ㅤㅤthey're running on fumes.

ㅤㅤjesper knows that much. they all know it, all of them teetering on the edge of exhaustion, but they've got to keep going. there's no way for them to stop now, no place to hunker down just for a breather. jesper knows he signed away the very concept when he came onto this job.

ㅤㅤnormally, she'd be cleaning her guns. or pouring over something, rearranging something else, doing anything to keep her hands and head busy, but jesper can't find the will to do anything besides just knock her head against the back wall and stare listlessly at the ceiling. it's why she doesn't hear aisling at all, her footsteps blending in with the blank noise that's settled over their head and the ever - present background hum of ketterdam.

ㅤㅤhe hums half of an affirmation in response to his name, waiting for the follow - up. it doesn't come. jesper just slides his gaze sideways and sees aisling looking, face full of worry, and something tumbles around in his stomach, unwelcome and uncomfortable.

ㅤㅤjesper squashes it. he tries for a smile. " you up for a late - night stakeout? "

[couldfight]

a starter for @soulstcne !

eleven sits in her room , colouring pencils spread out on the desk in front of her . she prefers this to the classes they make her attend & the training they make her do that leaves her body sore & her head aching .

the sound of hurried footsteps outside has them jumping up , scurrying to the corner of the room . the people here are still unfamiliar ; intimidating & harsh , but as the door bursts open , all they see is someone that looks concerned .

[barrelcrow]

@soulstcne said: “ ❛ so, to what do i owe this pleasure? ❜ " {♠️ x 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ||  accepting x}

"I'm not sure I'd call this a pleasure," Kaz shrugged, leaning his back against the wall, though never letting his attention slip. They'd both been aware of each other for a while now; of course they had been. Although their methods differed wildly, they were both Barrel bosses and had to know who they were dealing with at any given time. Well.. Strictly speakingKaz wasn't a boss yet, but it was only a matter of time until he'd take over. And with Per Haskell holed up in the Slat, the Bastard of the Barrel was, by all means, the face of the Dregs.

However, he'd only recently learned that there was one thing they did, in fact, have in common: Pekka Rollins. 

What exactly her motivations were, Kaz wasn't too sure. Neither did he care. "I'm here to tell you to back off. Rollins is mine."

[proofwhisky]

@soulstcne​ sent: after hours of healing his wounds, tending to his condition, and casting frantic, incoherent prayers to numerous deities for his speedy and complete recovery, aisling isn't sure if exhaustion or desperation play the bigger part in her inability to leave his bedside. but, in the early hours of the morning, when he finally wakens from whatever battered, dreamless sleep he'd found along the way, aisling is still by his side, hands stained with his blood, hair messed, tear-stained cheeks filling with a small, relieved smile as she registers his consciousness.      " hey. you gave me quite the scare last night... how are you feeling? "

THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS A DREAMLESS SLEEP for Thomas Shelby.    His mind is always trapped in war,    in the endless stream of gunfire and bombs and screaming.    There is blood on his hands that no one can see but him,    and it soaks through his skin and deep down into his very bones,    staining them red and searing them with that dull copper stench.   

He is trapped beneath the ground again,    forced into that animalistic state of kill or be killed.     His heart races.     His blood surges through his veins.    His muscles strain against the neck of a poor young man who has no more fault in this war than Tommy does.     A young Prussian boy with green eyes.    The first life Thomas Shelby ever took. 

Tommy jolts awake with a gasp,     face bathed in a light sheen of sweat,     and it seems to take him a solid thirty seconds to remember where he is.    The pain in his body helps with that.    He relaxes forcibly,     blue eyes wandering around the room until they fall on Aisling ;    tear stained and lovely as the day he’d met her. 

“ Didn’t mean to scare you. ”     he mutters around an impossibly dry tongue.    He turns his head slowly,    tenderly,    taking in his surroundings as if trying to recollect the events of the night before.

“ What happened ? ”

[seesgood]

      she doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to this. people knowing her. people touching her. fingers brushing along her hair, over her skin as if she’s some sort of thing. people have already given her various propositions for her time. for her company. for her beauty. like she’s a trophy. like she’s not a person. but at the same time, they whisper about her. roll their eyes, sigh and murmur under their breaths that she’s a waste. a mistake. the other victors --- the one who fought and killed and sacrificed for their titles, they give her distance. as if she’s a disease that can be spread. fortunately, however, it means that she can at least slightly slide under the radar. but it also means that it’s her sole duty to seek out her own company. 

it’s strange to be in the company of so many people that she recognizes. victors are practically celebrities, but she’s never taken to them the same way that the rest of the capitol does. there are only a few she can actually remember rooting for, one of which is standing a short distance away from her. familiar brown hair, soft features, kind eyes. they still roll replays of aisling’s tragic victory in the promo packages. caroline swallows, toys nervously with the skirt of her dress as her eyes dance over the rest of the party’s occupants before she heads over to aisling.  ❝ i’m sorry about your boyfriend, ❞  it seems an appropriate  ( although somehow equally inappropriate )  place to start.   ❝ i’m caroline. ❞  although she doubts she needs to introduce herself anymore. everyone watched her win. the useless victor.  ❝ is it...always like this? ❞          /          @soulstcne​   +   plotted things :) 

[joyfulmagic]

💕 for bucky!

@soulstcne // send 💕 to me and i’ll list 5 things my muse would do special for your muse if they were a couple!

1. Bucky speaks all five traditional love languages, but the way he expresses affection the most these days is cooking for someone. He really enjoys making old dishes he grew up with, despite them being Depression Era meals. He doesn’t really make that connection fortunately, But yes! He’d cook for Aisling.

2. Bucky loves nerdy shit (this is canon haha), and he’d figure out what nerdy stuff Aisling likes and buy her some small things like funko pops or something like that.

3. This isn’t exactly something special he does for Aisling, but instead something he just does by habit now that impacts her. In Wakanda, he was taught how to take care of his beard with oils and such. So if he has facial hair, he’s nice and soft for Aisling to kiss.

4. He likes curling up with Aisling and watching traditional animation movies with her, as they make him feel like they can escape everything bad together with the power of love...even if that feeling only lasts the duration of the movie.

5. Bucky gave Aisling one of his dog tags upon receiving them back from the Smithsonian. He told her that way she’ll always have part of him with her, good him as he puts it.

[acertainfemininemystique]

In honor of SPOTIFY WRAPPED,  send me a number 1-100 and I’ll write you a starter based on the song.    

@soulstcne​​ asked:                     10 for the spotify wrapped!

                                                       ________________

                                    10. i’ll see you in awhile - brooke bentham                                                        ________________

                SHE  CAN’T      put  into  words ,  but  there  is  something  about  the  woman  that  makes  raven . . .      feel      ,  feel  something  as  nebulous  as  the  word  itself .  it  sets  her  on  edge ,  but  it  also  makes  her  curious .  about  this  woman  that  is  so  strange  yet  evokes  such  a       FAMILIARITY      as  well . 

                ❝    what - - -  are  you ?    ❞  she  asks ,  finding  her  voice  coming  out  uncharacteristically      soft     .  

[hexsrealityarchived2]

@soulstcne inquired: 👌 ( IN A RESPECTFUL WAY THO -- )

send me 👌 if your muse would bang mine ⤷ Accepting!!

“The feeling is mutual. I, too, think so as well, Aisling. Respectfully.”