#ilmournes

[amiabel]

hi pls i'd like a nickname miss amabel ♥ !

*    ♥     :      ⎛  @ilmournes​​  ⎠     /     𝑝𝑒𝑡  𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑠  !

𝙵𝙾𝚁  𝙸𝚂𝙰𝙰𝙺  ,   𝙸  𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙺  𝚂𝙷𝙴  𝚆𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳  𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴  𝚃𝚆𝙾  .   he’s  someone  she  can  be  unflinchingly  kind  to  ,   but  also  someone  she  enjoys  teasing  juuuust  a  little  bit  .   a  healthy  amount  !!

so  the  first  would  be  a  little  on  the  meaner  side  ,   so  to  speak  ,   because  she  would  call  him  wallflower  when  he’s  being  a  bit  quiet  .   often  accompanied  by  a  request  that  he  speak  up  ,   this  pet  name  sees  limited  use  ―   aka  only  when  she  knows  it  won’t  be  interpreted  as  cruel  or  judgemental  .   he’s  her  shy  ,   lil  bean  !!

the  pet  name  that  sees  much  more  use  is  strad  ,   short  for  stradivarius  because  of  his  peerless  musical  talent  .   usually  grumbled  alongside  a  hullo  ,   where’s  the  tea  ?   in  the  morning  after  a  difficult  night’s  sleep  .   it’s  affectionate  and  all - purpose  .

[eyenoir-a]

❝ i get the feeling we’ve had this conversation before. ❞

                     UNFORTUNATELY, this conversation isn’t as rare as juno wishes it was, but then he can’t help it, his line of work tends to gravitate towards those things. there’s a familiartiy to it, something that draws him to think, yeah . . . maybe we have.   “ have we ? ”   an honest question, maybe they’ve started to blur together, maybe juno just isn’t as sharp as he used to be. it’s not that he’d ever forget a case, but if someone was involved in a case but wasn’t important enough to solving it . . . well they might just slip his mind. 

*    ⟢  @ilmournes​︱ always accepting .

[amiabel]

*    ♥     :      ⎛  @ilmournes​  ⎠     /     𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑟  𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙  !

𝚂𝙷𝙴  𝙻𝙾𝙾𝙺𝚂  𝙳𝙾𝚆𝙽  𝙰𝚃  𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝚂𝙲𝚁𝙰𝙿  𝙾𝙵  𝙿𝙰𝙿𝙴𝚁  𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷  𝙰  𝙱𝚁𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃  𝙴𝚈𝙴  .   curiously  bright  ,   some  might  note  for  amabel’s  senses  oft - resemble  a  mirror  draped  in  linen  .    but  she  recognizes  what’s  written  on  it  .   or  not  written  on  it  ,   rather  .

❝      𝑖𝑡  𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠𝑛’𝑡  𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛  𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑔  ,   𝑛𝑜𝑡  𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒  𝑡𝘩𝑒  𝑤𝑎𝑦  𝑠𝑖𝑔𝑖𝑙𝑠  𝑎𝑟𝑒  𝑠𝑢𝑝𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑑  𝑡𝑜  ,      ❞      she  explains  .      ❝      that  is  just  how  one  gets  into  the  heartleap  if  one  has  a  mind’ta  find  it  .   you  draw  that  shape  on  the  door  and  the  storefront’s  there  when  you  open  it  .      ❞

the  shape  in  question  is  a  little  like  a  heart  ,   but  one  fit  to  beat  behind  two  rows  of  ribs  rather  than  adorn  a  paper  valentine  card  .   in  the  centre  is  something  that  might  be  the  letter  a  ,   or  a  door  .

❝      if  you  were  to  tell  me  it  was  a  clever  spell  of  mine  ,   however  ,   then  that  would  be  naught  but  the  truth  !!      ❞      mabel  says  ,   a  laugh  in  her  voice  .      ❝      but  it  is  just  a  scribble  ,   how  i  used  to  make  my  mark  before  i  knew  how  to  write  my  own  name  .      ❞

she  gives  isaak  a  curious  look  ,   her  snowy  brow  furrowing  .      ❝      did  mor  dig  it  up  for  you  ?   the  paper  looks  a  enough  like  what  i  have  in  an  old  sketchbook  .   or  perhaps  the  wind   is  cross  with  me  again  ―      ❞

[olivierperrier]

{ @ilmournes​ assures us “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.” }

   olivier’s smile is a relieved one, and he pulls     out a notepad to slide over to his newest book    requester. ollie is happy to order books for any    customer who can’t find them anywhere else -         and these books do sound quite odd.    when they were requested, he wasn’t even sure    he could keep their titles straight as they were all    ‘ghosts this’ and ‘energy that’. so he asked the man    to write it out - ollie would rather get the order just right.    plus, even writing out some of the titles made his skin crawl.    ghost stuff made him nervous, but it wasn’t real, right?

  ❝oh g...g...g-good. p..please write what you would like,    i-i-i send out my orders on fridays. so, what’s your interest    in b..b..b..books like this? are they g..g-good reads?❞

[uncaany-a]

@ilmournes​ 

     Detective Bravo announced herself at the reception and almost instantly stepped back outiside the building to smoke a cigarette. She missed the days people were allowed to smoke indoors. With the sun turned up to maximum heat, the cigarette could have lit itself if she scraped it on the pavement like one of those old cartoons, or could have if it wasn’t for the pouring rain raging just a step outside the protection of the bouilding. Not a great day to be outdoors, but that could be said of just about every day.

      Slender woman that she was, she didn't look like much under the baggy frame of what seemed to be an unbuttoned sheriff's office shirt, thrown over a plain t-shirt, both hanging from her shoulders like a wet sack. Probably not standard uniform, but she didn't seem to be a standard kind of person. Specially considering she was the one to ambush him at his    at least figurative    doorstep.

      “Mr Aldric!” she turned to greet him, a half-assed, false smile painted on her face. “Saw you lurking around my crime scene. Thought it better to cut the bullshit. Are you a coffee guy?”

[bleikurefur]

❤    @ilmournes​​     /     PLOTTED  STARTER    ❤

A   PRIVATE   CONCERT           -           set aside for friends of the great surveyor of this event, the notes of a lone violin echoing the complex like a banshee toning their voice, haunting the halls, never a note out-of-tune     -     it’s inhuman, this instrument, of substantial grace and beauty, so close to sounding like torturous, long scratches on a blackboard.   this person who he hired, shrouded in mystery, ever-so-quiet, but effortless with the bow     -     after it’s over, and the guests have walked themselves out, tripping over invisible obstacles that only the drunk can sense           -         he approaches. 

(   something  strange  lingers  in  the  air  tonight,  and  suspicion  cements  itself :    höfum  við  hist  áður?   )           “   that  was  incredible.   thank  you.   ”           modesty doesn’t dare come easy to those who only practice self-obsession.         (   the  universe  collides  like  a  handshake,  polar  opposite  worlds  crashing  to  form  the  wrinkles  and  veins,  intricate  markings :    ég  þekki  þig.   ég  er  viss  um  það.   )           “   i’ve  always  wanted  to  play  the  violin    -    never  really  got  a  chance,  though         [   too  busy  smiling  for  the  camera   ]         -         how  long  exactly  have  you  been  able  to  play?   ”            (   og   þú   þekkir   mig.    einhvern   veginn.   )

[abvnai-a]

@ilmournes​ asked: “ it’s out of our hands. ”

   she falters a little at the comment, her lips pressed together. her arm is wrapped in gauze, from her wrist to the bend of her elbow, and she can’t but think that even though they tried, that it isn’t over.  ❝ it can’t be. ❞ she can’t rest with that answer, even though she KNOWS they should. she can feel her lip twitch in rejection, but more importantly, failure. they’ve both taken too much tonight, and she wants to drown in the weight of her own mistakes. after a moment, she looks back up at him, biting into her bottom lip to keep it from trembling.   ❝ are you sure ? ❞

ms mr / secondhand rapture.       @ilmournes​, accepting.

[unnwin-a]

headcanon + hope ( for the future? as a feeling in general? you pick! )

ahh ,  Eggsy before Kingsman ,   had very little hope for the future and for his potential to achieve anything .   I think the Marines offered him a way out of the life he was currently living .   they gave him a hand and pulled him out of that rut but it didn’t work out ,  and was the final straw .  since then ,  he hasn't held out for much hope of anything . 

and that’s another reason why he’s so grateful to Harry ,  SO grateful for the opportunity to become a Kingsman ,  because until then ,  he had forgotten how liberating and refreshing it could be ,  to have hope for the future ,  but also ,  more importantly ,  hope for yourself .

@ilmournes    /    p.