i think i may have dispelled it by now


An Eomer Fanfic

Based on an imagine found here

Eomer stared quite openly at you, it had been so since he had first met you after the battle of Helm’s Deep, since you had guided the women and children out into the now safe halls and then starting to help the wounded.

He’d had little time to talk to you with battles still looming on the horizon, but you remained in the back of his mind.

Now, he was King and it was forever frustrating to him that you only recognised him as such.

“My Lord?”

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She turns, torchlight on her cheeks catching the tear tracks there before she can wipe them away, and her mouth lifts into something that’s not quite a grimace and not quite a grin.

“I thought it might help.”  She glances over her shoulder again, eyes lingering on the stained glass, the feathers, the vial of blood.  Then that shoulder lifts in a dismissive shrug and she turns her back on the shrine entirely, stepping out to meet him.  “Apparently it’s not for me.  Prayer and faith and gods, all of that.  Or maybe it’s just this one who isn’t,” she adds on a mostly mirthless laugh.

“Are you all right?”  Percy winces the moment the words are out of his mouth, holding up an apologetic hand before she can speak.  “That was a stupid question.  I’m sorry.  What I mean is …”  What, Percival?  He isn’t sure he really knows.  “Is there anything I can do?”

She shuts the door behind her and leans back against it, looking for a moment as though that one act had taken all of her remaining strength.  Just for a moment, though.  Then she’s pushing herself upright again, and the curve of her mouth this time is a little bit closer to a smile, a little bit closer to real.

“You’ve already done … more than enough for me lately.”  Her voice is soft, fond and grateful despite the exhaustion he can hear in it as well, an it makes him feel lighter somehow, warm and weightless in a way that he’s still desperately trying not to get used to.  “And honestly,” she laughs, “I don’t know how you’re ever going to top giving me a title in any case.”

“Ah.  Yes.”  He can feel the heat rising in his cheeks at that, knows that even in the torches’ weak glow his pale skin will make the color all too visible, and blushes harder.  “About that.”

“Right.  Right, sorry!”  There’s a brightness in her voice, and Percy spares a moment to wonder when, exactly, he learned exactly what her particular tone of bullshit sounds like.  “We weren’t going to speak of that, ever again.”  She waves a hand, shaking her head with a grin gone tight around the edges.  “Pretend I never said anything.”

“I’d rather not, actually.  If it’s all the same to you.”  He steps forward, no more than half a foot before he stops himself.  “That happens to be what I was hoping to talk to you about.”

“Can’t quite seem to make up your mind about that, can you?”  Her arms cross over her chest, her eyebrow lifts, and she nods once, tersely.  “Well?  Go on, then.”

“I don’t mean to say …” Percy begins, testing each word as it passes his lips, wanting to be careful with this.  “You’ve already given me your thanks, and I would hate to offer the impression that it wasn’t already enough.  But what I meant–when I said, before, that–it wasn’t–”

Percy cuts off with a frustrated sound, pausing in order to marshal his thoughts, and Vex waits.  It’s one of the things he values most about her: her patience, her willing silence, always giving him time to reorder his words until they sound something like what he means.  He’s never been comfortable with extemporaneous speaking, and he doesn’t think he’s ever told her just how much he appreciates the time she always offers him to time to compensate.

It’s one of any number of things he’s never told her.

“When Scanlan said that he could help me regain my memory … shockingly,” he laughs, “that’s not precisely what he did.”

She snorts.  “That is shocking.  Next you’ll be telling me that grass is green and that dragons are assholes.”

“It was embarrassing,” he says wryly.  “And I mean that quite literally: he gave me a memory of being embarrassed.  And while I’m still mulling over an appropriate punishment for that particular trick, in the meantime it occurs to me that I may have, in thinking it had actually happened, inadvertently given you the wrong impression.”

“Percy?”  Her arms are still crossed, but there’s a crinkle at the corners of her eyes that says she’s trying not to smile.  “You’ve gone all noble-speak again.  You can tell, because you start talking like your jaw’s wired shut.”

It throws him for a moment.  “Do I really sound like that?”

“Less like you’re reading a legal document,” she says, “and more like a human being.”

His instinct, childish as it may be, is to double down.  If she thinks he sounds like a milk-fed noble now, she has no idea what he’s capable of.  It would be easy, and it would likely make her laugh, and–most importantly–it would dispel the intimacy slowly gathering between them, the intimacy that he’s instinctively trying to rear away from.  But …


“I don’t need more thanks, I don’t expect more gratitude,” he says, as simply as he knows how.  “But I never want you to think that I’m embarrassed to have given you a title, or that I … regret?  I would hate to have you think that I regret it.”

“Well.”  There’s a growing softness in her eyes that he’s afraid to name, certain as he is that he doesn’t deserve it, and she finally drops her arms.  “I’ll admit, I’m relieved to hear it.”

“What Scanlan made me remember, what he made me believe–that wasn’t real.”  He feels himself reaching out.  He can’t stop himself, and it’s only his fingers against her wrist, barely even a touch, but he doesn’t pull away.  “I have no desire to forget about what was.”

For a long, full moment, she just looks up at him.  Torchlight forming a thin halo around her dark hair, dancing across the curve of her cheek, dry now.  His fingertips still pressed against her wrist, a single point of connection that feels as though it’s anchoring all the world around him.  Then she leans up, and and in, and his breath has stalled in his chest because it seems like she might … for a moment … just a moment …

Her lips come to rest just at the corner of his mouth, warm and soft where they linger against his skin.  When she pulls back again, they curve into a smile–a real one, this time–as she lingers just a breath away.

“I’m glad that you remembered,” she murmurs, still close enough for him to feel the warm wash of her breath, before she tilts her head towards the path leading up to the castle.  “Let’s go in,” she says.  “Have a drink to old friends.”

“With no offense intended towards religious contemplation,” he says, proud to find that the words come out only slightly unsteady, “that sounds far more my speed.”

“Mine too, darling,” she laughs.  “Mine, too.”

islandd-gyal  asked:

funnel web spiders are the most deadliest spiders in the world ! I don't know how you like them😭 you are brave and i give you props👏

First I’m going to start by saying that to a healthy adult human, no spiders are “deadly.”

Second of all, funnel weavers in North America (also called grass spiders, family Agelenopsis) are entirely harmless. I’ve handled then a lot, and I can tell you that they are very nervous, skittish spiders that don’t want anything to do with you. They do not bite. Even so, it would be no more than being bit by a mosquito.

Now, what I think you may be referring to are Sydney funnel weavers which are found in Australia. They can deliver a painful bite that may cause some systematic symptoms to occur regarding the nervous system. There have been no recorded deaths caused by this spider since the advent of antivenom. Even without treatment, it is fully survivable by healthy adults.

And I like all spiders. A lot of rumors surround certain spiders regarding how “deadly” they supposedly are, and I like dispelling them. People need to see that spiders really aren’t all that bad or “out to get us” and stuff like that. Above all, I love teaching people to love them the way I do – not just the cute ones, not just the cool ones, but all spiders equally. 

Hope I made you a little more informed :)

Your noble spider knight,
~Sir P. Audax.

Hey guys. I’d like to talk to you about empathy. It’s one of those nights, where I can’t quite make sense of myself, so I think this will help. If you’re interested, you’re welcome to read. If not, it’s all good, scroll right past.

I only recently (probably last year or so) found out that I’m an empath. I’m not sure how I stumbled across the word, but I remember reading about it and thinking “Holy crap, that sounds like me” and the more I looked into it, the more things made sense.
If you’re unfamilar, empathy in regular human emotion is basically the capacity to understand or feel what another person is experiencing from within the other person’s frame of reference, i.e., the capacity to place oneself in another’s shoes.
Pretty much everyone feels empathy to a degree, if something bad has happened to a close friend, you try and imagine how they are feeling so that you can best comfort them. Now try and imagine that empathy ramped up 100%. You’re always open to other people’s emotions and can take them on; even people you have never met. If someone is hurt, you feel it too. You know the motivation and intents of others. You can feel the energy in the air, animals, plants, the earth. This is why I can see colours in things that don’t have colour, and sometimes taste sound. It’s pretty overwhelming, as you can imagine.

When I found out about being an empath, I looked back and wondered if maybe this was the reason I used to act how I did when I was younger.
People seem to like my company, which is awesome! But… socialising exhausts me. It’s not that I don’t like socialising, because I do enjoy meeting people and talking to friends, but if there’s too much going on, I get frazzled and have to take some time out on my own for a few days afterwards. It’s kind of hard to explain, and I know friends that used to get frustrated with me if I didn’t contact them much for a couple of days after being out. So many people and so much energy and emotion is a problem for an empath if you’re unsure how to properly deal with it.
Relationships are another thing I have a lot of problems with, because… well, there’s a whole lot of emotions swirling around right there. Every relationship I’ve had, has ended because I put up giant walls - and now I know why. I was trying to stop the overwhelming amount of FEELS heading in my direction, and I didn’t know how best to handle them. Putting myself in my partners shoes, and trying to figure out what they felt for me and WHY - and what I felt for them - was brain overload, I guess. Thankfully, I’m doing better with this now, thanks to starting to figure this whole empathy thing out.
I still build walls sometimes, when things get too much, but it’s mostly for anger and conflict, which I cannot deal with. The last time I failed in pulling them up quick enough, I fell into depression - bad times. I mood swing up and down when depressed and it’s a nightmare.
I also suffer from chronic pain. I used to have burning pains in my back when I was little, which was never diagnosed. I now have Rheumatoid Arthritis/Disease, and random body pain that the doctors can’t seem to figure out. I think it’s because I get stressed, because I’m always trying to figure out how to save the world. Haha. It kind of sucks. So I’m still learning how to best block that out. I know there are certain things that you can do to dispel bad energy so I may try them sometime. Because it hurts when the world hurts. I mentioned in an earlier post that I went to the 9/11 site last month while I was away on holiday and could not deal with the pain there and had to leave. That was another thing that really opened my eyes to this. Tonight, I read about a friend’s pain, and immediately felt awful in myself. If I see someone cry, I will also cry, because they’re hurting damnit and I hate seeing them hurting. You know what’s also great? When you empathise with fictional characters. Oh boy, that’s a ride and a half. I can’t rewatch a few of my favourite TV shows because of this (I’m looking at you, Life on Mars and Hannibal).
Sometimes, I know stuff and I have no idea how I know this stuff, which is kind of weird, but sometimes kind of cool, I guess.

If you’re still reading this - thanks. You’re awesome, and I hope you learnt a little bit about when I ramble on about empath problems. I’m gonna wrap this up now I think. I should be asleep. I feel a little better though.