eohere

[eohere]

are you trying to distract me? (from Theodred, eohere) :)

⠀⠀⠀"no."

⠀⠀⠀a rohir does not lie, she hears her father say, when you lie you dishonour yourself. he had said the words to her brother but she remembers them as though they were meant for her, teaching her to guard the inner-gift of her own honour as her brother had been taught. éowyn screws up her face and then exhales hard, mouth pinched. this time she tells the truth though she knows it will only bring her trouble.

⠀⠀⠀"yes."

⠀⠀⠀her cousin is sitting on the lowest step of the hilltop hall, watching her spin her spear. éowyn kicks up dust as she steps forward, and back, and forward, imitating the long, dancing gait that she uses when she prepares to throw. the dust obscures the pages. her brother is good at his letters—théodred lets éowyn sit with her spear and carve as they read together. full hands seem to help her remember, and he seems to think it is very important that she remember the long, dry southron-styled histories he is recounting to her. he wants her to read them on her own—but today the lesson has fallen apart enough that éowyn is trotting restlessly like a foal and the spear is like a wandering limb.

⠀⠀⠀“one throw—i will aim for the old stump the soldiers use to test their arms. here, we are further back than where they stand. further back by at least a hundred hands! if my aim is true, if i make the throw, we will go riding instead.”

⠀⠀⠀the prince looks unamused by her—but éowyn can see the secret fondness behind his eyes. he refuses her often but never wants to. not truly. he will not refuse her today. folk may talk whatever way they like but éowyn knows that théodred is just like her. no matter how they may be different, no matter how he may love his southron songs and stories, he is happiest on horseback. he is happiest when he is free. when théodred sets the heavy book aside, propped carefully open to the correct page like a challenge, éowyn knows that she has won. all she needs is a chance, after all. she will not fail.

⠀⠀⠀she turns her back to the stairs and puts her eyes on the stump at the edge of bowled hill, at just the place where the rim of the open hilltop cleared by the wind and the axes of their ancestors drops away to the timber wall and then the hard north cliff beyond that. it was a cedar, once, and the stump is soft, broken and gnarled like an old tooth from the damage of a thousand thousand spearheads thrown by a thousand thousand bored guardsmen over all the years the watchmen have stood on the steps of the hall—nearly five hundred years, éowyn knows from all these histories, perhaps longer yet. as long as there was a hill to be seen, and their people to climb it, and a chance at even a stupid passing glory.

⠀⠀⠀the soldiers throw their spears from a spot almost thirty feet ahead, marked by the way the dirt is worn in a short spear-track from their feet. if éowyn wants to make the same throw from further still, she will need all of her strength. she steps back without turning—eight paces walking, equal to the three long trotting strides she will take before she throws from the agreed-upon place.

⠀⠀⠀éowyn does not linger for breath or to build herself up, nor does she look over her shoulder to see that her cousin is watching. she is not a person who waits. waiting will not make her stronger—it might only give the wind the moment it needs to change. she takes the spear in the comfortable place in her hand, strikes the ground with the butt, bends with it, lets the haft slide in her hand until her grip goes hard by instinct, and runs. she is long-legged and long-armed, tall as a horse herself even at twelve years old, and she moves with a surprising limber grace, full of power, storing all the energy she can find in her body. the cock of her arm is as long as her body. the butt of the spear nearly hits the ground again. her front foot strikes the ground flat, firm as earth, and then all the muscle and fiber of her is a forward swiftness, a bow at the eye of her target.

⠀⠀⠀she throws too hard—with every limb and muscle, running, arching, and following through the spear's release with so much force that her entire body bends forward nearly in two and she stumbles, catching and walking herself two, three steps on her palms to keep from going over her feet before she manages to right herself. the spear sails through the air like a bird, higher than a bird, straighter, and truer. in a perfect arc. éowyn watches it wide-eyed, trying to catch and hold her breath at once, until—with a sweet, singing shiiiink—the spear sinks into the perfect center of the tattered old stump.

⠀⠀⠀éowyn feels a whoop of triumph swell inside of her—but that is what a child does. so, instead, she swallows the shout, shoulders rising and falling, chest puffed, unable to school the grin from her face when she turns back—expecting to see the proof of her skill written on her cousin’s face. that will be better than cheering. spears were not the lesson but théodred will not begrudge her fairly earned praised. éowyn believes that. she hefts a spear better than a warrior twice her age and twice her size. théodred will be proud.

⠀⠀⠀yet when she turns she finds her cousin’s seat empty. instead, he is at the crest of the steps speaking to a rider who was not there before. the soldier’s armour is filthy and his face blackened with soot. even from afar, éowyn can tell that his eyes are frantic and full of fear. he wears a helm with a plume of black horsehair—this marks him as a messenger from the far folde, she thinks, a messenger with ill tidings. théodred has been speaking to him all this time. he has not seen something so insignificant as a girlchild tossing her spear at stumps.

⠀⠀⠀all the victory leaks out of her like wine from a sun-cracked skin, replaced with a spite so strong that she could spit. éowyn goes to the stump and pulls out her spear and when she turns back her cousin and the messenger are gone—two smears on the rise as they rush towards the stables. they are going to war now, she thinks, that is where the men go when i wake to find the hall is empty. they think i do not notice it because of what i am, but they are wrong. little good it does her to see and understand. as soon as urgent duty comes, she is forgotten. théodred will take her brother with him. éomer is sixteen, a stout fighter and old enough to swear his oath—

⠀⠀⠀and he is a boy.

⠀⠀⠀éowyn’s mouth twists. another feeling swells inside her, but this one is mean and very large, larger than her victory and heavier, too. too big to fit inside her properly because her skin will not stretch with its size—unfair and insurmountable. she wants to break her spear over knee though she knows that it would bruise her. she has spent months carving its handle, calming herself by honing its edge. she wants to thrust its sharpened point into the space where her cousin is no longer sitting and imagine it would hurt him just the same. you dishonour yourself, her father says again, and éowyn wishes she could cover her ears to silence him. but she cannot—like the terrible feeling, like what she is and what she will never be seen to be, the voice dwells deep inside her.

⠀⠀⠀she would scream for frustration if she could—but háma, her uncle’s door guard, is watching her from the high porch. if she goes up now, he will pat her shoulder and tell her it was a good throw. he will call her biornel, little warrior, even though she is already near as tall as him. it is not his praise that éowyn wants so she goes back to the letters where théodred has left the lessons sitting upon the great stone steps. she hates the sight of the ink as much as she hates the sight of her long legs beneath her when she sits, muscles trembling and tight still from the exertion, useless and out of the saddle. éowyn sets her spear aside.

⠀⠀⠀she will learn the letters, too, if that is what it takes. she will learn them better than her brother and better than her cousin—she will learn them, even though she doesn’t like them, and then no one will be able to find any fault in her at all.

⠀⠀⠀she picks up the book and puts it in her lap only to discover that the wind must have disturbed it. the pages are tossed askance, barely decipherable to her in their elaborate loping script, and the passage they had been studying is lost. éowyn, alone and having paid too little mind to the lessons her cousin has been trying to teach her all this time, has no way of finding it again.

priory of the orange tree pt. 1

#THEODRED IS JUST LIKE HER!!!! (buries myself in the ground) #has no way of finding it againnnnn how do you keep doing this charlie how do we keep letting you get AWAY with this!!! #angry angry harsh teeth grit powerful tall bitter 12 year old little prince!!! fuck #about:eowyn #;;theodred

[eohere]

Ohhh NOOO I am thinking about the unfair comparison Theodred makes between Eowyn and her father, I am thinking about Eowyn ever bold and unwilling to be commanded and Theodred seeing a very different man charge his Eored far out into the marshes against all urging and being struck down in the mists and I am thinking about how Theodred’s angers and fears are too tied up within Eowyn’s desires for freedom and self-determination that he is always fighting an inner battle between the future he wants to give her and the lack of future he fears she will have!!! 

#about:eomund #about:eowyn #;;theodred

[eohere]

I think, in Rohan’s complex cultural landscape, queer issues are also viewed in complex ways. On the most basic level, various disparate Northmen cultures had a variety of ways of looking at queer sexuality but none of them truly denied non-hetero relationships from being accepted within communities. And in terms of rohirric attitudes, any negative views of queer sexuality can be reasonably assumed to come from Gondorian/dunadan influence. 

However, some of the time those influences are hard to discern, with particularly misogynistic-originated/hypermasculanised stigmas against gay men and their committed relationships appearing to come from the oldest traditions and beliefs of the Rohir, traceable back to Eorl’s time and before. BUT even these have been influenced by Dunadain religious beliefs, for these of course were traditions descended from the Eotheod whom had been allies with Gondor long before Rohan’s creation. 

PRACTICALLY speaking, and with reference to Theodred, stigma would have been levelled upon him most from the higher nobility within Rohan (if he had ever openly been attracted too and loved men exclusively). However, there was also a running ‘traditionalist’ view, more or less prevalent depending upon the rohir community and changeable by generation, that demasculinised not necessarily sex with men, but men who were not attracted to women and whom fell in love with other men. This is often framed as a viewpoint in rebellion against Gondorian influence, a kind of flipped version of Gondor’s perception that profound love between the same sex is blessed and honourable, but sex is a corruption of the soul etc etc. However in the end at it’s root it is more of a mutated prejudice passed down and changed through generations. 

Indeed amongst some area-specific Rider/military cultures, taking sexual partners among your comrades is commonplace and almost expected, but both positions and romantic attachments are shamed with varying frequency and harshness. Theodred had witnessed or experienced various aspects of these cultures during his youth as a Rider in different Eoreds, but he had still been mostly discreet and kept his reputation very clean. 

In general, if (or when depending upon verse) Theodred were to ‘out’ himself, it would not be such a catastrophic social death as it might be in Gondor. He would still be mostly accepted and there would be no tangible consequence to it. However there would be intangible social consequences, biases and altered opinions that would have made his life and duties significantly more difficult than before, which is not to mention Gondorian opinion. It could be equated too a similar experience of being gay in England right now, with differences of cause and expression of such opinions, but similar impacts and severities. 

This is in tandem with @shieldarm​ ‘s own HC post, I think I agree that queer women had an easier time being queer, in that they were met either with nonchalant acceptance or bewilderment, viewed more as a ‘strange sort’ but not with any particular malice or shame, especially when they exemplified the role they had chosen to take on (in Eowyn’s case). For women, the issue was more them being women than being queer and with histories of women warriors littering Eotheod history, they had a cultural space that they could fill. 

#;;about:rohan #;;theodred #;;theodredcanon

[eohere]

And the PROBLEM IS HE’S BITTER ABOUT IT ALL!! He has been trying, trying so hard, it was so brutal, he gave up so much, he drove himself to the edge of endurance, exhaustion, grief, misery, and self-denial, sacrificed relationships- how could it all just... fail! Even that goal, from the very earliest history of this method, created to satisfy and fill the hole in his father that was always too big for him to fit, he fails at that too! Theodred and Theoden never reconcile! Theoden dies believing that Theodred is unfit, the only reason Theodred remains as heir to the throne is that Eomer refuses to be the one to supplant him!! And this level of abandonment... from so many people he cares about so deeply... has been suppressing the true depth of care he feels in order to maintain that relationship!! The sharp angry bitterness of it all... it could turn him into a very cruel person if he allowed it too. He doesn’t, because he has a core to him that has never wavered, even if he smothered it, but sometimes he wants too. Sometimes he wants to say hang it all, I tried, fix it yourselves, why do I have to be the one to flay myself open for inspection? And at times... it makes him resist for a moment, it makes him snap, waspish, sharper than even his usual sharpness.

#;;theodredcanon #i am... so sleepy #good niiiight

[eohere]

jess mccready • a league of their own s1e6

#;;eowyn #again... just unparalleled #yes there she is

[eohere]

As a living man the only way any of these things can be solved is by Theodred letting go of his need to control the flow of any situation, become an authentic version of himself that pretty much only Boromir is privvy too and allow that to backfire, to hurt people other than himself, to be disappointing, IT’S SO... why, he asks, does conceding to the demands of my natural manner feel like I am losing every foundation that I built myself upon.

aAUGRHR IT’S ABOUT THEODRED ULTIMATELY FAILING IN EVERY DUTY THAT HE HOLDS THE MOST DEAR!! Because he believes (and has every reason to believe) that he cannot be authentic!! Shieldarm posts have me realising fundamental truths- Theodred believes he must create himself anew for every space he fills for every role he inhabits because the man HE is, he cannot see himself as suitable to any of it. And he has every reason to think that!!, because of his sexuality, because of his gondorian-ness, because of his rohirric-ness, because of his desires, because of his lesser son of a lesser son of greater sires, because he is not his grandfather, because he cares too much-  tand he succeeds in compensating for all of those things for a while RIGHT up until he doesn’t, because it is too much in the end, one man cannot be all these people. He fails his family personally, he fails his people politically, he fails his men militaristically, he fails himself fundamentally!!! A thousand things he should have done but did not in the name of what he believed he needed to be at the time, creating a net of competing Theodreds in the life of every person he touched that he either leaves them all with at his death or that he is entirely entangled with when he is raised to the Kingship. aRGH AND ALL THIS WAS FOUNDED!! On the bones of the son of a widower who needed that son to be worth the life of his wife and that was always just Theodred in some respects and yet in others it could never have been just Theodred and he always knew it to be the case. Theodred being so impactfully connected to every member of his family yet also incapable of allowing those connections to flourish when that would require a level of authenticity from him that he believes would sabotage that relationship in the end!! aaa

[eohere]

aAUGRHR IT’S ABOUT THEODRED ULTIMATELY FAILING IN EVERY DUTY THAT HE HOLDS THE MOST DEAR!! Because he believes (and has every reason to believe) that he cannot be authentic!! Shieldarm posts have me realising fundamental truths- Theodred believes he must create himself anew for every space he fills for every role he inhabits because the man HE is, he cannot see himself as suitable to any of it. And he has every reason to think that!!, because of his sexuality, because of his gondorian-ness, because of his rohirric-ness, because of his desires, because of his lesser son of a lesser son of greater sires, because he is not his grandfather, because he cares too much-  tand he succeeds in compensating for all of those things for a while RIGHT up until he doesn’t, because it is too much in the end, one man cannot be all these people. He fails his family personally, he fails his people politically, he fails his men militaristically, he fails himself fundamentally!!! A thousand things he should have done but did not in the name of what he believed he needed to be at the time, creating a net of competing Theodreds in the life of every person he touched that he either leaves them all with at his death or that he is entirely entangled with when he is raised to the Kingship. aRGH AND ALL THIS WAS FOUNDED!! On the bones of the son of a widower who needed that son to be worth the life of his wife and that was always just Theodred in some respects and yet in others it could never have been just Theodred and he always knew it to be the case. Theodred being so impactfully connected to every member of his family yet also incapable of allowing those connections to flourish when that would require a level of authenticity from him that he believes would sabotage that relationship in the end!! aaa

#;;theodredcanon

[eohere]

Theodred actually is a pretty mediocre swordsman, he certainly has his tricks and is exceedingly capable as a fighter, but there is no special-ness to his skills in one-on-one combat. Both Eomer and Eowyn surpassed him in such things before he died, winning to him in spars far more regularly than they lost. And likely this was part of what made his assassination a success. He simply could not stand alone long enough for Grimbold to reach him.

#;;theodredcanon #;;grimbold

[eohere]

THE THING IS Theodred is in no way proud of his relationship with Eoten. It is a necessary allyship of equals, Eoten is not HIS horse, they are colleagues (maybe they are friends, if fractuous ones, but he would never presume) and nor does he show any particular skill or quality on Theodred’s part, expect perhaps his unfathomable stubbornness. 

Ides, however, is his horse. She is a mottle-coloured sturdy creature, neither particularly large nor small, not fast or slow, but enduring of heavy pack loads and careful with her feet. She is also the envy of any rider who knows her and the true symbol of Theodred’s horsemanship. 

Theodred took her in wild off the Kingstead, tamed her, trained her, conditioned her and none can claim any influence on her but himself. And what an influence that is! Ides is alert to danger yet does not spook easily, she is obedient when it is prudent and yet cunning and independent as well, she has naturalised to many commands, both verbal and silent, many being as complex as ‘go and hide nearby’ or ‘run beside me and ready to bear me away’. Eoten might be a far more powerful warrior and competent companion in battle but Ides does not flinch from riding into battle and keeps an even and level gallop to aid Theodred’s aim with spear and bow. She shadows Theodred’s movements when left to her own devices but can also seamlessly fit back into the herds of wild horses when necessary. She trusts Theodred as her leader and accepts his judgements of dangers and risks and is also boundlessly fond of him. 

It is Ides who Theodred is most proud of, and most comfortable around. In the cold of the wilds Theodred happily sleeps with his back to Ides’ flank and her head cradled in his lap. She will nibble at his shoulder, snuff at his hair and play dead with him in moments of leisure. Eoten is, of course, utterly appalled by the display, but he is respectful to her and comfortable enough to allow her to walk in step with him.

#;;theodredcanon #;;horses #;;ides #;;eoten

[eohere]

(thinks just a little too much about how Theodred and Denethor would have gotten along so well, likely had such a respectful professional relationship but could have had so much more if Theodred and Boromir had been at liberty to be open about their lives and relationships) youch

#;;ooc #;;denethor

[eohere]

The truly amusing fact of the matter is that, whilst he has a far grimmer and more blunt manner, Theodred is actually the far better politician in a competition between him and Boromir. He may have less patience overall, but he has a great deal more patience for the individual concerns of the Thanes and Reeves of the riddermark, along with a running catalogue of those various concerns that he keeps in his thoughts at all times. In this actually Theodred is more like Boromir’s father than Boromir is himself. 

And indeed, far more of Theodred’s actions as Prince and Marshall were politically based, be it solving squabbles, arranging marriage matches, manoeuvring allies into positions of social strength and brokering peace between feuding families, this was the meat of Theodred’s accomplishments in service of Rohan. It was forever a bitten frustration of his that, as his Father’s illness and Grima’s influence progressed, this work became more and more impossible for him to do.  

#;;theodredcanon #;;rohan

[eohere]

Trawling through @shieldarm’s hc posts, feverishly slamming that like button on every single post about Theodred and Eowyn’s relationship like I’m playing hungry hungry hippos 

#;;ooc #shieldarm #THEY SIMPLY COULD NOT BE MORE CORRECT

[eohere]

starter call ,     feel  free  to  combine  multiple  prompts !

send  😊  for  a  happy  starter .

send  🙁  for  a  sad  starter .

send  🙌  for  an  excited  starter .

send  💢  for  an  angry  starter .

send  🌷  for  a  soft  starter .

send  😝  for  a  silly  starter .

send  💬  for  an  angsty  starter .

send  💀  for  a  violent  starter .

send  🌹  for  a  romantic  starter .

send  🔞  for  a  sexual  starter .

send  👼  for  a  comforting  starter .

send  👿  for  a  threatening  starter .

send  💥  for  an  argumentative  starter .

send  ⚔️  for  an  action  starter .

send  💋  for  a  flirty  starter .

send  ❤️  for  a  loving  starter .

send  🔪  for  a  hostile  starter .

send  👁️  for  an  envious  starter .

send  ❗  for  a  frightened  starter .

send  🩹  for  an  injured  /  sick  starter .

send  ⚠️  for  an  urgent  starter .

send  🥂  for  a  celebratory  starter .

send  👫  for  a  reunion  starter .

send  💤  for  a  lazy  starter .

send  🛡️  for  a  protective  starter .

send  🏠  for  a  domestic  starter .

send  🔥  for  an  intimate  starter .

send  ☂️  for  a  weather  based  starter .

#;;memes

[eohere]

melnchly​:

@eohere​ said: ❛  I wish to be whatever she has most need of.  ❜ to LOTHÍRIEL!

       she had not meant to stop for much longer than a greeting, and yet something upon théodred’s face brought her to a slowing step, then to a stop, lingering a few steps away without quite finishing her approach. there is something too much like worry on his face. 

       though she had not spoken it, neither had she hidden her curiosity. her eyes had followed théodred’s gaze across the hall to éowyn, only now returning. and, seeing where his gaze went, returned to his face as though to study it. to try to glean the answers she sought without asking. (she is more comfortable here with them now than she had been upon first arrival - - still, there are things she does not yet feel she should ask, lines she does not wish to cross without the utmost care.)  so when he turns to look at her, she asks what troubles him, and finds the answer is not quite what she expected. 

         grey eyes grow soft, a settled sea. love of family is a thing she understands so well, though she knows the complex weavings of other families are different from her own. “i do not know her as well as you do,” lothíriel says, finishing her approach to stand by théodred’s side. “but i know that it would cause me pain, to think that those i love thought they must change themselves for me. i do not think she needs you to be anything more or less than you already are. i think…she wishes to be heard.” and not just heard but listened to, not as a daughter of her house, not as the lady of rohan so many expected, but as the mind and heart that lived beneath those titles. “i think, perhaps…” and here she smiles, a little shyly, already anxious that she has overstepped. “that if you wish to be whatever she has most need of, it might be best to ask her what that is.” 

His gaze upon Lothiriel appears impassive at a glance. It is difficult in the extreme to define an expression at all through the cracks, crevices, jowls and sheer cliffs that make up Theodred’s face, especially when he is so often scowling. And yet perhaps she has known him long enough by now, seen him more at ease in her husband’s company, to perceive that he is not dismissing or aggravated by her suggestions. Although, perhaps they do not surprise him either, if the soft, weary and conflicted sigh through his nose is any indication. 

He looks back to where he has spied Eowyn, armed and armoured in leather from her long sojourn across the Westfold, but she is already gone from sight of the doorway. And he is relieved and aggrieved, all at once. 

“And what if the man I am,” he begins in his sharp and tanged voice, “and the man I have been, cannot ask her such a thing?” His thin moss-green eyes return to his sister-in-law, surprising himself by his candidness where she was concerned. The little swan had flitted nervously about the halls when she had first arrived but, surprisingly, she had settled faster and with more surety than he had expected. And with her settling, so had Theodred naturally accepted her in his mind as a part of his household. She and Eowyn in particular had grown close so quickly, he had almost found himself jealous in the most ridiculous and childish parts of him. 

So yes, she was allowed. She had earned her right to speak to him thus, as a sister might. 

“I have been too many people to her in her life, and good at none of them. Now, I must still ask her to explain herself to me... it is the height of entitlement and self absorption.” His self-deprecating words come undramatically, yet also in a tone that brooks no protestation. “If I thought weathering her anger toward me helped, then I would ask her anyway. But it has been many years, and still here we are.”

#;;rp #melnchly #;;v: A red day ere the sun rises #AHHH I love this very much #ye we'll go with king for sure :)

[eohere]

REMEMBER THÉODRED AT THE FORDS Indie Book-based Théodred, Prince of Rohan, Second Marshall of the Riddermark. Written by Erran

#promo #tolkien rp #lotr rp #lord of the rings rp #theodred rp #rohan rp

[eohere]

Prompts from The Banner Saga 1 game by Stoic Studio - part 3:

❝ Never imagined you to be one to defy the king. What made you leave? ❞

❝ It’s been quite a while since we talked, hasn’t it? ❞

❝ A shrewd man with ambitions can be very patient. ❞

❝ It’s always been about trust. ❞

❝ You’re fearless, I’ll give you that. But look at yourself, you’re run ragged. You can’t be there all the time. ❞

❝ I suggest growing some balls instead of hoping it all works out. ❞

❝ I don’t know what is happening here, but I don’t want any part. ❞

❝ I’ll miss this place. Good memories. ❞

❝ Wait, I was saving your ass, remember that part? ❞

❝ I need you to trust me on this. ❞

❝ I think we need to get out of here. I don’t feel good about this place. ❞

❝ Something doesn’t feel right. The people here are staring at us like those vultures in the wastes. ❞

❝ I killed him. ❞

❝ I have a couple concerns I wanted to speak to you about in n private. ❞

❝ Came all the way up here just for me? ❞

❝ I was supposed to bring those casks from the town. I drank maybe half. By accident. ❞

❝ I’m not one to retreat, but we should turn back. ❞

❝ I don’t care where you go, but stirring up trouble is probably the only reason you’ll see me again. It won’t be to talk. ❞

❝ For once, let me decide… what happens to me. ❞

❝ I’m not asking because I’m afraid of losing you. ❞

❝ I’m not… I’m not afraid of… anything, anymore. ❞

❝ Let me do it because you know I’m a better shot. ❞

❝ Promise we’ll be together. ❞

❝ I know where this is going. You’re afraid of me dying. ❞

❝ As soon as people figure out what’s going on there’s going to be riots in the streets. ❞

❝ Become someone else today. ❞

❝ I wasn’t sure I’d ever see you again. ❞

❝ I learned the talent to heal minds, not control them. ❞

❝ Maybe they see him as a patron, or it is an attraction they cannot explain. ❞

❝ I wish we’d had time for a proper introduction. ❞

❝ The less people know, the more certain they tend to be. ❞

❝ The god of secrets will play a part, as will you. ❞

❝ To be more precise, they can see us, but I’ve convinced them to be unconcerned. ❞

❝ I believe I am the only one who can influence another’s mind. ❞

❝ Is this where you’re going to sacrifice me? ❞

❝ Today one thing will end, another will begin, and our actions will decide on which side we stand. ❞

❝ I know it’s hard, and you’ve already been through a lot. But you’re needed. ❞

❝ I’d kill every last bastard in this city for some good mead, though. This place has been dry for weeks. ❞

❝ I’ll be honest with you, there’s too many of them. We’re just delaying the inevitable at this point. ❞

❝ Sounds like a good way to get a knife in the back. ❞

#;;memes

[eohere]

𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙴𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙳 𝚃𝙾𝚄𝙲𝙷 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃𝚂.

i saw a post. i got excited. i got soft. i got inspired. bon appetit! ( P.S. as always, please do not add more content to this list!!! tell me and i will gladly add more and credit you for them!! )

[ KISS ]:     after having kissed the receiver, the sender gently rests their forehead against theirs, still holding them as they do so.

[ HUG ]:     having just hugged the receiver after some time apart, the sender touches their foreheads together as a sign of affection.

[ LOVE ]:     overcome with their love for the receiver, the sender touches their foreheads together.

[ GREETING ]:     the sender brings their forehead to rest against the receivers in a gesture of greeting.

[ GOODBYE ]:     as they’re bidding each other farewell for the foreseeable future, the sender gently touches their forehead against the receivers.

[ LISTEN ]:     in a bid to get the receiver to pay attention to them, the sender brings them close and presses their forehead against theirs.

[ RELIEF ]:     having lost sight of the receiver in an intense moment of danger, the sender spots them in the distance, and rushes to them, embracing them and resting their foreheads together out of sheer relief.

[ SAFE ]:     in an effort to prove to the receiver that they’re safe after a particularly traumatic incident, the sender gently rests their foreheads together in a gesture designed to be soothing and reassuring.

[ REAL ]:     after believing the receiver to be dead, the sender reunites with them, reaching out in disbelief, then touching their foreheads together to make sure that they’re real, and not a figment of their grief-stricken imagination.

[ ANCHOR ]:     in a moment where stress and anxiety are running high, the sender tries to ground the receiver by gently guiding them into a hug, resting their foreheads together to steady them.

[ COMFORT ]:     in a gesture designed to comfort the receiver after an emotional blow, the sender gently closes the distance between them, and touches their forehead against the receivers.

[ STUBBORN ]:     thoroughly exasperated by the receiver’s stubbornness, the sender exasperatedly, but fondly, pulls them in for a good old forehead touch.

[ AFFECTION ]:     as a fondly affectionate gesture, the sender brings the receiver forward and rests their foreheads together.

[ INTENSE ]:     in a moment where romantic tensions are running high, the sender leans forward to kiss the receiver for the first time, then changes their mind, and rests their foreheads together to disguise their original intentions.

[ EXHAUSTION ]:     having just overcome a massive obstacle (e.g. using a massive display of their powers, fighting through a sizable army, embarking on a perilous journey, writing up a PhD thesis etc.) the sender and receiver reunite, and the sender drops their head forward to rest against the receivers, thoroughly exhausted but glad to be reunited at last.

#;;memes #all these I'm about to reblog can be sent to @voronyaro and @abrazimir too!