#peacefulapostle

[mxndwitch]

The rough landscape surrounding the kingdom of New Asgard immediately reminded Wanda of Scotland, as she stepped down the ramp of the quinjet. Cliffs rose into the sky around her and she could see waves crashing against the sharp edged stone below, water splashing against the beach. She had been here once before, but just to drop off Brunhild, so she hadn't seen much of the settlement itself. The idea that ALIENS lived among them on earth now, was a strange one for a girl from a small, war torn country, where stories of aliens had always been laughed at and called impossible. A lot of impossible things had happened to her through the years. And here she was now, in search of help from someone who potentially understood her issues better than humans could. As ordinary as the Asgardians looked to the naked eye, they all possessed some kind of magic, even if it was just their immortality. That, too, was a strange concept to her, although she had recently died and returned herself. Nothing seemed to be off limits anymore and she was even getting used to having video calls with a tree and a raccoon. This was her life now, as it seemed. Brushing a strand of hair from her face, that the wind blew into it, she took the path down to the small town, gaze drifting over the rustic cottages the people inhabited here. This was the kind of life she had always longed for ---- simple, close to nature and in harmony with each other. Although she  had lived in America for a while now, the big cities and extravagant way of living still wasn't for her. Which was why she had gone off the grid back in the old days and preferred to live in Scotland, because she had craved the quiet and more basic way of living there.

Her visit to the village was not unannounced. It had been Brunhild who suggested for her to see one of their healers, who might better understand the struggles she faced since returning from the dead. And so she had borrowed the quinjet and set off with a rough description on how to find the healer's house. As she walked down the cobblestone streets, only a few people seemed to even take notice of her. No one was bothered by her presence, or felt threatened, which was a pleasant change. She couldn't just walk down a street in America without being recognized and stared at anymore. Finding the cottage the Queen had described, Wanda collected herself and raised a hand to knock on the door. Nervously fidgeting with the hem of her shirt, she waited until she could hear footsteps approaching, before straightening up. When the door swung open and she faced the man she had come to see, she gave him a friendly, but slightly forced smile. “Hello, I'm Wanda Maximoff and I'm looking for the healer. I hope I'm not bothering you, but I got this address from your Queen, who thought you might be able to help me.”

                                            Plotted starter for @peacefulapostle​

[niicknamedrook]

@peacefulapostle​ liked for a starter.

Her hair was almost black against her scalp and plastered to her face as she tried to shake off as much water as she could. Wringing out the bliss addled water from it, wishing she could do the same to her mind. Her skin. Too much of it had seeped in and now she was just seeing shit. Dainty little Faith traipsing around with flowers in her hands and hair. Sure, they were only in a branch of the Henbane now, but the water was everywhere. And it was suffocating. 

So she ambled up onto the bank, checked her guns, then kept going till she was in a clearing--mostly clear headed. Mostly. There were still little animals appearing. And people. Mostly Faith. Not as angry as she expected since she blew up that fucking eye sore of a statue. Dark eyes flicked up and she froze like a deer in headlights, eyes narrowing on the man at the entrance of the fence. A quick glance around, no peggies, her mouth twisted to the side, “Are you real?” 

[winterbranded]

             INTO THE FORESTS OF THE NIGHT  // @peacefulapostle​

  [ ✮ ]    LOVE.  a sensation that erupted from the heart and soul.  something that thrummed and thrived within so many.   it was  powerful ,  close in proximity and strength to rage.  only a fine line keeping them apart.  both different but harboring a certain passion.  love  is universal.  a careful smile flutters to his lips.   the gold that shined within paul’s heart always managing to shine through at times like this.             ❝  what makes it the strongest ?  ❞    barnes had his own beliefs to why it was. but he wanted to hear paul’s reasoning.  to him,  it’s a resilient and unfathomable warmth the seems to hold you in the coldest times.  something that he was grateful to have after years of torment.  while it lingered like a shadow, he wasn’t  alone  in dealing with his demons.  

[warkept]

     * @peacefulapostle​ wanted a starter. 

             “ I’ve thought long on this decision ; longer than I have on most, ” Ashley murmured, thumb tracing the cheap paperback cover in his hand. The image on the cover raises from the page just a bit, and his nose crinkles at the sensation of the terrible font choice against his fingers. “ This town has a terrible taste in literature. ”

                The book is tossed aside, a small breath from his nose and a pull at his lips indicating that the statement held humorous intent, though it was a bit too honest to be a joke. Ashley had chewed through most of the books he had located in an abandoned house a week prior, though most were nothing more than raunchy romance novels with two wildly out of touch protagonists ( not that mister ashley de beaufou would know anything about being in touch ) making awful life decisions. “ This book spent a page and a half describing the allure of a bowl of macaroni in cheese sauce; I’ve nothing ‘gainst prose, but if one’s mind is so abjectly fixated on describing pasta in seductive terms I believe they’re better fit as a chef. Or perhaps a food critic with extra flourish. ”

[absolveres]

peacefulapostle asked: hey , john, do you wanna go fishing??

( @peacefulapostle​) / is this not angst?! )

    Fishing? John lounges back, fingers rubbing idly against the arm of the chair. He perks up at the question, curious, but a little taken aback by it. In a place decorated with rivers and lakes -- probably a fisherman’s dream ( if he knew anything about fishermen ) -- John had never fished.

    It couldn’t be too hard, could it? A rod and some bait -- he doubts Paul is asking him if he wants to enter a fishing competition or to catch the biggest fish on record -- that’s essentially how it works, isn’t it? He’s never been the type to jump at the opportunity for outdoor sports. But, he piqued his curiosity. And the truth is, he’d jump out of his normal recreation, if it meant that he could spend time with any of his brothers.

    He looks to Paul, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. John sits up straighter, scooting to the edge of the seat. If he’s serious, he’ll figure out out and jump at the opportunity. It’s a silly excitement, he thinks, but he eyes his brother curiously.

    ❝ You know to fish? ❞

[stormweathered-arc1]

@peacefulapostle​ : cont. 

  LIKEWISE, it’s not often that the Thunderer is able to SURPRISE someone else. His presence —— even for those not sensitive to such things —— is huge, and he is not a subtle man. And so when he manages, it’s with a pleased GRIN —— a pleased hum low in his throat that melts into a smile against Paul’s mouth, and fingers in his hair only encourage. A little laugh is uttered at the words, and he leans into another, more gentle kiss —— though there’s a bit of a teasing drag of tooth upon the withdrawal, and that blue eye is bright. ❛ You looked as though you needed distraction, ❜ chuckles he, paired ‘round a brush of his nose against Paul’s. ❛ You seem tense; you have been here for many long hours. ❜

[fantabuloushq]

♥   sent   by   @peacefulapostle​  //  accepting

even though i’ve known beni   (does he hate that? harley’s choice of nickname not mine)   is an original character since following your blog,   every time i see you pop up i think ‘what’s he from again?’   because he’s so well written   &   well developed that it must exist outside of the tumblr world,   right?!?!   benji’s got you to thank for that!   anyway,   thank you for the love.   i’m looking forward to harley calling him “benji” to his face.   xoxo

[fbiartist]

@peacefulapostle​ liked for a starter.

“Can I see your hands? For like a second?” She held out her’s, together, just waiting for one of them. He looked tense and his fingers kept shaking, flicking. The symptoms went up his wrists and she couldn’t help but feel some kind of worry stir in the pit of her stomach. “I read a good bit about reflexology, and I’ve helped with some friends, so do you want me to see?” She knew how awkward it sounded, but the question was genuine. Her sweater hung off her shoulder, showing the P in her Pride tattoo.