A sea of obscure sorrows @leurcoupdefoudre - Tumblr Blog

((Yes yes, I’m going to revive this blog too. RIP my sanity.))

@coruscato

Also, mon coeur...

(And you know who you are, I presume.)

The weather being what it is and always continuing to do so, you shan't make any snide commentary about it upon pain of death as a form of conversation.

That's a fair touch too English for me and then you'll be expecting me to do something absurd like...queueing.

#The National British Competitive Sport #coruscato #[Richard]

365filmsbyauroranocte

Le Monde vivant (Eugène Green, 2003)

bloodycrumpets:

[This better not be expensive, because he’s necking it.]

[Darling, he never gives you expensive wine. It would be like pouring it down a drain. Neck away.]

...so. They seem to be...getting on well.

#bloodycrumpets

[Hahaha...]

tfw you want to do something like The Chosen End, but for Auld Alliance but you doubt your ability to write a decent Scotland RIP

#ooc #[Someone stop me or help me; either will do.]

andhungry

richard siken sentence starters.

quotes are all taken from various poems out of richard siken’s poetry book crush. feel free to change pronouns/etc if needed.

❝ tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us. ❞

❝ tell me we’ll never get used to it. ❞

❝ there are so many things i’m not allowed to tell you. ❞

❝ i swallow your heart and it crawls right out of my mouth. ❞

❝ i want it back now, baby. i want it back. ❞

❝ i’m sorry. we know how it works. the world is no longer mysterious. ❞

❝ that’s a nice touch. ❞

❝ i like him and i want to be like him. ❞

❝ i’m sure you remember, i was on the phone with you, sweetheart. ❞

❝ history repeats itself. ❞

❝ there are many names in history, but none of them are ours. ❞

❝ you could drown in those eyes. ❞

❝ but damn if there isn’t anything sexier than a slender boy with a handgun, a fast car, a bottle of pills. ❞

❝ sorry about the blood in your mouth. i wish it was mine. ❞

❝ i couldn’t get the boy to kill me, but i wore his jacket for the longest time. ❞

❝ you wanted happiness, i can’t blame you for that, and maybe a mouth sounds idiotic when it blathers on about joy but tell me you love this, tell me you’re not miserable. ❞

❝ there is no way to make this story interesting. ❞

❝ i want to tell you this story without having to confess anything, without having to say that i ran out into the street to prove something. ❞

❝ tell me we’re dead and i’ll love you even more. ❞

❝ you will be alone always and then you will die. ❞

❝ i’m sorry i came to your party and seduced you and left you bruised and ruined, you poor sad thing. ❞

❝ who am i? i’m just a writer. i write things down. ❞

❝ i take it back. ❞

❝ here is the repeated image of the lover destroyed. ❞

❝ you still get to be the hero. ❞

❝ what more do you want? ❞

❝ love, for you, is larger than the usual romantic love. it’s like a religion. it’s terrifying. ❞

❝ no one will ever want to sleep with you. ❞

❝ you know that recently we have had our difficulties and there are many things i want to ask you. ❞

❝ you had not expected this. ❞

❝ walk a mile in my shoes. ❞

❝ a man takes his sadness down to the river and throws it in the river but then he’s still left with the river. ❞

❝ you are weak and hollow and it doesn’t matter anymore. ❞

❝ hush, my sweet. these tornadoes are for you. ❞

❝ that sounds overly valorous. ❞

❝ do you love yourself? ❞

❝ i don’t have to answer that. ❞

❝ you wanted more. ❞

❝ i had a dream about you. ❞

❝ there’s nowhere to go. there’s nowhere to go. ❞

❝ in these dreams it’s always you: the boy in the sweatshirt, the boy on the bridge, the boy who always keeps me from jumping off the bridge. ❞

❝ will you love me even more when i’m dead? ❞

❝ you didn’t show up. i kept waiting. ❞

❝ i swallowed crushed ice pretending it was glass and you’re dead. ❞

❝ i don’t really blame you for being dead but you can’t have your sweater back. ❞

❝ you can sleep now, you said. you can sleep now. you said that. i had a dream where you said that. thanks for saying that. you weren’t supposed to. ❞

❝ hello darling, welcome home. ❞

❝ please keep him safe. ❞

❝ i just don’t want to die anymore. ❞

❝ you want to die for love, you always have. ❞

❝ you didn’t think you’d feel this way. ❞

❝ you saved my life. i owe you, i owe you everything. ❞

❝ please, just for one night, will you lie down next to me, we can leave our clothes on, we can stay all buttoned up. ❞

❝ you’re all i ever wanted and worth dying for, too. ❞

❝ drive into that tree, drive off the embankment. ______, make something happen. ❞

❝ we are not dirty. ❞

❝ you keep singing along to that song i hate. stop singing. ❞

❝ here is the sink to wash away the blood. ❞

❝ this is not harmless. you are not breathing. ❞

❝ i will come back from the dead for you. ❞

#inbox meme

kimigayo-archive-deactivated202

indie APH Japan・18+, canon-divergent/historical・READ FIRST

#promo #I Love Graph™

pytmeddet

@leurcoupdefoudre

Ragnar’s eyes pierced the low hanging mist of the early morning, staring with a gaze as fiery as the words he bellowed. The humid air dampened his voice, making all reverberation fall stale, but Ragnar appreciated the anechoic atmosphere. It singled his voice out above everything else, and his small but rowdy band of men grew quiet behind him.

‘Come down and meet me!’ the “young” viking Chieftain thundered to the top of the Parisian city walls, holding his arms out from his sides as if in offering. His accent was thick as his tongue struggled around the unfamiliar intricacies of this silky, foreign language. ‘Or are you too much of a coward?’

Ragnar could not see him, but there was one person in particular that he was addressing. He knew that Hilduin probably wouldn’t take the bait: it was so plain, so predictable … but perhaps that was the point. There was something unspoken, mischievous and perhaps a little bit sinister lurking beneath the Dane’s intent.

Ragnar couldn’t contain his wicked, jeering grin. His eyes gleamed.

‘No men have to die today! Fight with me, just the pair of us, and when I finally claim your city, I’ll drink mead from bowls rather than from the skulls of your dead.’

leurcoupdefoudre

“He speaks well for an idiot,” Hilduin commented. His arms were folded, one wrist hanging lazily over the edge of the parapet railing while he rested his chin on his forearm. The wind dragged a tangle of blond curls across his eyes and he swept it behind his ear with an impatient motion, still peering curiously down at the Nords outside his walls.

“They sailed up the Seine,” an aide from the assembled throng told him immediately, as if he didn’t already know. “The defences have been routed since their last attacks on Frisia and Dorestad--”

“Those were ages ago!” Hilduin shot up, fixing the aide with a furious stare. “You mean to tell me that we’ve been subject to these raids for over a decade because the garrisons are unmanned?!” The aide opened and closed his mouth several times before stuttering to a stop and bowing his head. Hilduin retook his seat slowly, his expression sour.

“We have only just finished one cause and likely we will be asked to pick up another,” he began. Speak softly, his mother’s voice whispered, and make them listen because your words are precious. “We are at the brink of change beneath the banners of uniting kingdoms. We cannot-- we will not win every battle,” Hilduin said calmly, locking gazes with every man in the room, inclining his head in acknowledgment. “But I’ll be damned if I see us lose this war.”

He paused for a long moment, drumming his fingers over the worn stone of the parapet railing, turning again to look down at the Norse milling just outside the walls, their proud leader facing them with outstretched arms as though he expected them to fall simply to please him.

“Tell the king I’m going down.” His icy blue stare cut through the sudden clamour of protests like a heated knife. “Fetch my gauntlets and my spear; meet me below.”

He rolled his shoulder beneath the spaulder strapped to it, his face twisting at the awkward fit. Like many things in times of scarcity, it would have to make due. His fist clenched spasmodically over his spear’s grip, where it was balanced on the crest of his shoulder and he felt the golden bead woven into the leather ties. The metal was tarnished and pitted with age, the etched runes so faded that perhaps only he could have still deciphered them.

He’d cut it from her bloodied hair after a battle that began much like this. A better memento of her final moments than the memory of a fear in her eyes that he’d never seen before as she hid him in the false bottom of a wagon and bade him not to move until she came for him.

After, he’d cleaned the mud from that single bead with trembling fingers, numb and shaking as he pried her hand open to take her spear as his last defensive weapon against that solemn silence and the imagined enemies lurking in every ominous shadow. The Romans died as easily as their Gauls, and when he turned to look at her one last time, she was gone.

This, centuries later, was no different. It could never have been different. Like her, he would sell himself dearly to protect what he held in the broad circle of his arms. As he had inherited her likeness, so too would he one day inherit her fate. But not so soon. And not so cheaply.

His armour was the bare minimum, cinched in and strapped to him tightly where it could, freeing him to manoeuvre his spear as needed. Hilduin steadied himself, mouthing a silent prayer with the sigh of breath that left his lips, and straightened, going forth with his helm in his free hand and his chin lifted high and proud.

Not so soon, he thought to himself. And not so cheaply.

“I gave you no leave to come,” he called to Ragnar, voice ringing. “And yet here you are. Do your northlands find you as foul that they will house you no longer?”

#pytmeddet #verse: for valhalla #Siege of Paris RP

@bloodycrumpets From here (X)

“I imagine I might’ve,” he replied idly, more obviously fascinated with the horrific contortions Arthur’s face could make at will. “With the proper incentive. As it stands, you’re really not inspiring enough to cause me to violate statutes of secrecy. This is, of course, assuming that I knew.”

#bloodycrumpets

leurcoupdefoudre

-Wraps an arm around the Frenchman's shoulder, look how friendly and appealing the Scotsman is.. he's smiling his very best smile.- So whit if I tald ye I ha'e a wan time in a life time opportunity fer ye. Wan so grand.. so amazin' that ye ced ne'er turn it doon..?

[Goodness, he might even be somewhat charmed if this wasn’t all so very Highly Suspicious Behaviour.]

…mon grand.

We had an agreement, did we not, that you were to never try to foist your brother off on me again?

Because I recall this conversation very vividly.

thistlewhiskey

Aight but.. consider this.. if ye dae it.. I’d offer ye a favour.

-If it wasn’t his brother needing a good pounding Hugh probably would be up for it. But it’s Arthur. Arthur Kirkland. Englishman. Brother. The man who owns his lands and he’d rather fuck a sword than him.-

leurcoupdefoudre

A favour.

That would almost be intriguing, save that I question your willingness to make good on such a thing. Oh, and what it would require on my part as well. How distasteful.

#thistlewhiskey

bloodycrumpets:

If I’m that bad then get the fuck out of my face.

And miss the inevitable eruption? Darling, really.

#bloodycrumpets

empathmoineau

leurcoupdefoudre said: How…fascinating.

What exactly is so…fascinating? Forgive me if I seem impertinent…

leurcoupdefoudre

I had no idea you were such a...prolific consumer of artistic erotica, ma bichette.

#empathmoineau

leurcoupdefoudre

-Wraps an arm around the Frenchman's shoulder, look how friendly and appealing the Scotsman is.. he's smiling his very best smile.- So whit if I tald ye I ha'e a wan time in a life time opportunity fer ye. Wan so grand.. so amazin' that ye ced ne'er turn it doon..?

[Goodness, he might even be somewhat charmed if this wasn’t all so very Highly Suspicious Behaviour.]

…mon grand.

We had an agreement, did we not, that you were to never try to foist your brother off on me again?

Because I recall this conversation very vividly.

thistlewhiskey

Aight but.. imagine this..

Ye dinnae ha’e te talk te him or look him in the eye.. Ye jist hae te bend him o’er n’ gi’e him a ged fuckin’. Wouldn’t that feel ged Darlin’?

-Hugh doesn’t remember this conversation, it’s conveniently filed away in “shit Hugh wants to forget when it’s not convenient to him.”-

leurcoupdefoudre

Oh, if that’s all, I don’t see why you should bother with a third party at all, darling.

You could achieve it much more simply by doing it yourself.

thistlewhiskey

Aight but… consider this..

Artie is my fuckin’ brathair n’ that’s fuckin’ gross..

At least yer no related te him n’ yer handsome n’ ye probably wednae dae anythin’ tae outrageous te him.

leurcoupdefoudre

“At least”.

Do consider this: if you cannot deign to do it, I’m certainly of no mind to degrade myself.

#thistlewhiskey #((I'm laughing RIP Arthur))

leurcoupdefoudre

-Wraps an arm around the Frenchman's shoulder, look how friendly and appealing the Scotsman is.. he's smiling his very best smile.- So whit if I tald ye I ha'e a wan time in a life time opportunity fer ye. Wan so grand.. so amazin' that ye ced ne'er turn it doon..?

[Goodness, he might even be somewhat charmed if this wasn’t all so very Highly Suspicious Behaviour.]

…mon grand.

We had an agreement, did we not, that you were to never try to foist your brother off on me again?

Because I recall this conversation very vividly.

thistlewhiskey

Aight but.. imagine this..

Ye dinnae ha’e te talk te him or look him in the eye.. Ye jist hae te bend him o’er n’ gi’e him a ged fuckin’. Wouldn’t that feel ged Darlin’?

-Hugh doesn’t remember this conversation, it’s conveniently filed away in “shit Hugh wants to forget when it’s not convenient to him.”-

leurcoupdefoudre

Oh, if that’s all, I don’t see why you should bother with a third party at all, darling.

You could achieve it much more simply by doing it yourself.

#thistlewhiskey #((GET REKT HUGH))

-Wraps an arm around the Frenchman's shoulder, look how friendly and appealing the Scotsman is.. he's smiling his very best smile.- So whit if I tald ye I ha'e a wan time in a life time opportunity fer ye. Wan so grand.. so amazin' that ye ced ne'er turn it doon..?

[Goodness, he might even be somewhat charmed if this wasn’t all so very Highly Suspicious Behaviour.]

...mon grand.

We had an agreement, did we not, that you were to never try to foist your brother off on me again?

Because I recall this conversation very vividly.

#asks #thistlewhiskey