#hclywcrs

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ME BUT SOBBING??? Reese u are a saint ilysm <33333333

[youngragnar-blog]

@hclywcrs. cont.

her answer comes simply enough: with a kiss. ragnar likes to drink, there’s no denying such a truth, but he likes his woman more and he isn’t about to disappoint her on a day like this. his finger trails down past her cheek and to her jaw, where he cups her face with one roughened hand. he smiles. ‘ and we will celebrate like we’ve deserved. ’ the tip of his nose brushes against the side of her own. ‘ i will leave the ale to my men. some of it. ’ 

[apocryfal-blog]

when i gain a follower

when that follower is @hclywcrs

[curatiive]

@hclywcrs. call.

        ‘ you look like a drowned rat. what happened to you? ’ 

[ofblackfyre]

[ a starter for @hclywcrs ]

    Lyanna walked slowly with two buckets of fresh water in either hand. The ground was uneven. With due care, she tried her best not to spill any of it. The trek was hard enough to do on its own; Lyanna didn’t want to have to do it twice. Each step was a careful one. As the home of her slavers came into her line of sight, she lost her footing and toppled sideways. Drenched in water and covered in mud, Lyanna groaned and just stayed there for a moment or two.

     After calming herself down, she stood up and grabbed the buckets and made her way back to the stream and dipped the buckets back into the water, ready to make the trek once more.

[qceenmother]

            He was lying to her, she could see it. She sat up, brushing             golden locks from her face. “Uhtred,” she said softly. “You             do not have to keep things from me. What is troubling you?”

@hclywcrs from x

[youngragnar-blog]

@hclywcrs. call.

         ‘ why do you get to cuddle with the beautiful woman and i get a bucket of water? ’ he sounds like a moody child, although that’s fair enough he’d like to think. he’s hungover, dripping wet, and brida is enjoying herself with it all too much. ragnar wrings out his beard with a single hand and looks appropriately miserable. 

[balfourarchive]

@hclywcrs. cont.

i do not want to look for you, he wants to say. he embraces uhtred in turn, with as much strength, all the same, trying his hardest not to think about killing him. balfour has lost so many friends that they are beyond counting. some mattered more than others, certainly, but they are still gone and it still hurts and he cannot stomach the idea of adding to those numbers by his own hand. 

but then what’s left? to die by uhtred’s hand? he doesn’t want that either. you can’t fight your fate though, and if it’s god’s will for him to die in the coming battle, then so be it. 

he pulls back, throat tight, jaw clenched, brow furrowed. he tries to smile but it looks too troubled. 

          ‘ if your odin takes saxons, put in a good word for me when i send you to him. perhaps we will meet again. ’ he might as well be talking to fergus, he realises, and his composure breaks. his grip on uhtred’s shoulder tightens. ‘ let it be with honour. and remember that i never wanted this. ’