#rethel

[retrogeographie]

Rethel (Ardennes)

l’église des Minimes.

[khaenriahkrimes]

(when Dain gets knocked out after some harsh training or accident)

Herger: i can't hear his heartbeat!!

Buliwyf, smacking him: you can't hear a heartbeat through armor, dumbass!

Halfdan: guys...

Rethel, eating popcorn:

[fischerfrey]

valentine's day 2025

this year i wanted to make little edits to show my appreciation for some of the very very cool people i've created oc relationships with; happy valentine's day! here's to @unfortunate-arrow, @cursebreakerfarrier, @endlessly-cursed, & @potionboy3

the ships

rory o'neill & ethel malinda (fbawtft) cairo aguilar & anora brindlemore (hpma) cecilia balinor and vinnie wakefield (hphl) valentin hartford and juno creed (golden era)

[unfortunate-arrow]

𝗩𝗮𝗹𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗲’𝘀 𝗗𝗮𝘆 𝗦𝗵𝗶𝗽𝘀: Rory O’Neill x Ethel Malinda

⤷ ethel belongs to @fischerfrey

[philoursmars]

Au Louvre-Lens, une expo : “les Tables du Pouvoir”:

- plat - Rethel, Ardennes,  200-300 ap. J-C.

- id

- copie de 1874 du Trésor de Hildesheim - Allemagne, 1er s. av. J-C. 

- id

[thetwofacesofjanus]

Alfred Rethel - Der Tod als Freund

[joaquindesantos]

a1 RETHEL... reggie is Looking (respectfully)

he is Looking...

[reggierightsactivism]

“I said I love you" -Reggie to Ethel? x

“What?” 

Ethel looks at him like he just grew an extra arm, but Reggie simply stands his ground, hands in his pockets, expression sincere but guarded. 

“I said I love you,” he repeats, a little unease now creeping into his voice. They’ve been semi-casually/semi-seriously seeing each other for the last six months pretty much exclusively, which to Reggie felt like a reasonable enough amount of time to assume they both felt the same way. “What’s--” 

“Is this some kind of a joke? This whole thing has just been a prank for you, hasn’t it?” Ethel almost demands, suddenly looking like a rabbit prepared to flee. She doesn’t, standing her ground as well. “From the start--” 

“Whoa, whoa--” Reggie catches her lightly on the arm before she can leave, or hit him, or whatever she was planning to do; Ethel looks at him with furious confusion, so he pulls her closer, carefully stroking his hand over her soft curly hair. “Hey. Seriously, no prank. I do.” 

“But--”

He kisses her forehead and she relaxes slightly, cheek pressed against his broad chest. 

“Okay,” she says, laughing a little breathlessly, mostly with relief. She swipes her hand over her eyes, feeling comfortable in his arms. “Then I love you too.” 

She’d mean it regardless, of course, but it’s nice to finally not be the first person to say it.