#life been stupid lately.

[enkopan]

he drops your drink

[theninjazebra]

[our-lesboy-experience]

not only do I think that boys can be lesbians, I personally think that more boys should be lesbians. checkmate liberals

[fanwarriorfictions]

Help Me, Help You - Part Eight

Fenrys x F!reader

Summary- The reveal of Y/n’s powers leave both her and Fenrys reeling in the aftermath

Warnings- Panic attack(this is very dramatized, not exactly like a real panic attack), angsty as hell, I’m sorry

Series Masterlist

Part Eight

You’re a healer.

Two voices blending into one. One face, dark and covered in the blood of his own father, another face, golden and staring at her with a mixture of confusion and horror.

One, her brother, the one she’d just met, the one who’d saved her from the cold grip of death, who’d tried to hold her back the moment she’d seen her parents, slaughtered in her living room. Had watched in horror as she’d crawled through their blood, screaming for them.

One, Fenrys, the male who stood there, unnaturally still, only his eyes moving between her and the reflection of his face, where a scar should have been. The one that had been on his cheek, the one she’d felt below her palm when his lips had been stealing the breath from her lungs.

The scar had been severe, made by the brutal lashings of a dead queen, had stayed because he wished it, hadn’t let any of the talented healers from the torre, not even Yrene, touch the wound. He’d done that for a reason, Fenrys hadn’t told her but she could guess, and she had taken it away, at least a majority of it.

The section above his eye remained, only just beginning to heal into the smooth skin that matched the unmarked side of his face. It looked like a scar that had been healing for years, not months.

“You’re a healer,” Fenrys breathed again, not a question but a statement, “A healer.”

“I’m sorry.” It was the only thing she could say, choking on the words, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, Fenrys, I’m sorry.”

Fenrys finally moved then, flinching away from his reflection, away from her. He turned, on unsteady feet, as if he would make a run for the door.

She felt like collapsing, “I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Fenrys asked, finally finding more words, he searched her face as if he didn’t know who she was.

“I- I couldn’t,” she tripped over the words, how would she explain this to him? “She could- I wasn’t. I didn’t mean to.”

Fenrys seemed to connect his own dots, “It’s why you avoided the Torre, why you were so scared of it.”

It was the simplified reason, but yes, the tower of healers had nearly paralyzed her in fear when she’d seen it. And the idea of stepping foot in the white stone structure had her shaking with terror.

Y/n couldn’t stop the flow of tears down her face, and she almost sobbed when Fenrys lifted a hand to his cheek.

“I’m so sorry,” she cried again, a broken sound tearing from her chest, a guttural moan of pain.

Fenrys looks completely torn, as if there was a raging war inside his mind, she couldn’t tell what side was winning. The horror, at what she’d done, or whatever feelings he might have had for her.

“Gods, y/n,” Fenrys said, and he took a step towards her, stopping when she cried harder, louder, “It’s okay, it’s fine.”

It was far from fine, the lie was evident in his voice no matter how much he tried to hide it. She’d taken away his scar, taken away his choice, it wasn’t alright, none of it was.

“Please, I didn’t mean too,” she sobs, “Fenrys I swear, I didn’t-“

“I know, kitten, I know. It’s okay, I’m okay.”

She could feel it now, how her whole body was trembling, violently shaking as she took a step away from him, as if she could hide from what she had done, what she’d revealed.

It’s alright, stop it, come back, they’re gone, what are you doing, stop, you’re a healer, a healer, healer.

Her brother’s voice from all those years ago slammed into her. The memories of her mother, dead in her father’s arms, his blank lifeless eyes staring at her. The way it had felt to lay her healing hands on them to find nothing left to save.

“Breathe, Y/n,” Fenrys told her, “You gotta breathe.”

You’re a healer. Stop. You can’t bring them back. Healer. You can’t use your power. Healer. She’ll take you.

“Kitten, calm down,” Fenrys ordered her, his voice sounding like a wall of glass was separating them, “You gotta breathe.”

Healer…She’ll hurt you…

Who will?

“Hey!”

Maeve…

And the world went black.

Fenrys had panicked, when he’d seen her eyes roll back, seen her body collapse to the floor before he’d been able to catch her, screaming for help despite the late hour.

A guard had rushed into the room, he hadn’t even had time to speak before Fenrys was snarling at him to grab a healer, that he didn’t care if he had to rip one out of their bed in the Torre.

Fenrys had cradled her head in his lap, off of the hard floor. She looked near lifeless, if it wasn’t for the shallow rise and fall of her chest. He monitored her closely, counting the seconds between each breath, counting his own.

Fenrys was still reeling from the shock. Seeing his face, his brothers, healed again after nearly a year. He’d almost forgotten what he truly looked like without it, had resigned himself to never see himself again, was happy of it, deserving of it.

But it was gone, most of it at least, the section above his brow had remained, still carving its path towards his hairline, a the edges softer, less jagged.

It had begun to heal, the edges smoothing over, but she’d stopped before taking the whole of it away.

A healer, she was a healer, and a powerful one at that. To take scars that were already set by his fae healing, and make them disappear without a trace, without even thinking, completely on accident.

She was nearly as powerful as Yrene, maybe even stronger due to her fae heritage. And she’d hidden it away, clearly terrified of her own magic.

And that was the strangest part. He couldn’t figure out why she would be scared of it, the gift of healing was renowned, was one of the most sought out powers in the world, but she was terrified of it, ashamed of it.

When the poor tired looking healer had arrived, he let her look over Y/n, moving the female to the bed instead of the floor. Once she was safely settled on the soft mattress he moved back just far enough for the woman to do her evaluation.

“She’s alright, a panic attack,” the healer said simply, “hit her head when she fell but she shouldn’t have much more than a headache when she wakes, I-.”

“When will she?”

The healer gave Fenrys a patient smile, like she found his fussing amusing, “she may sleep the rest of the night, she may wake in a few minutes, let her rest.”

It was the last thing he wanted to do, he had to many questions, to many things he wanted to say, wanted to do. He wanted to know why she hadn’t told him, why she was so scared of her power, he wanted to tell her he didn’t blame her for taking away his scar, didn’t hate her for it despite the raging storm of emotion in him, he wanted to kiss her again and feel her soft lips on his own.

“What happened?” Sartaq’s breathless voice reached him, the prince searching the room with wide eyes, “Is she okay, what-“

And then he stopped, his eyes flaring wide as he took in Fenrys. Took in the smooth golden skin.

“Gods,” the prince breathed.

“Everything is fine,” Fenrys says, struggling to keep his chin up, to not duck his head down, to hide.

“You may go,” Sartaq turned to the healer and the guard who had brought her, “Thank you for your help.”

“It is my pleasure,” the woman bowed her head to the crown prince.

Sartaq waited till the healer and the guard had left before he spoke again, “Fenrys, what happened? Are you okay?”

Was he okay? Truly? With the scar he’d chosen for himself nearly gone? With the female who had taken it laying unconscious in his lap from the sheer panic and agony from doing it?

“No,” Fenrys said simply, “I’m not, but it doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter, my friend,” Sartaq argues, “Of course it matters.”

Fenrys shook his head, “She didn’t mean to, she didn’t know why I kept it, it’s not her fault.”

It wasn’t, how was she to know that he kept that scar as a punishment, not from Maeve, but from Connall. Kept it as if the knife he’d driven into his chest was what carved the wound into Fenrys’s face. As if his brother had spoken his final scathing thoughts and branded Fenrys with them.

“What do you mean?” Sartaq looked between them, asking again, “What happened?”

“She’s a healer,” Fenrys whispers, suddenly worried that he would wake her, and that the word would cause her to panic again, “She didn’t meant to do it, she was, we were-“

Sartaq seemed to connect the dots, “She wasn’t exactly in control of herself, was she?”

Fenrys hadn’t even been in control of himself, he’d been so caught up in her that he’d been seconds away from taking her to the bed she now laid unconscious. For months, he hadn’t been able to even think of taking someone to bed, but he’s almost done it, almost crossed that invisible line, for her.

“Did you know?” Sartaq asked.

Fenrys only shook his head, “No, I didn’t.”

Violet eyes she’d never seen before, staring at her, claiming her.

“What do we have here,” the voice, young yet ancient, wicked and enchanted.

“A little cat from the west,” she said, circling, stalking, “Hiding under my nose, beneath the wings of one of my soldiers.”

Paralyzed, unable to move, she could only watch those eyes as they trailed over her.

“Where is big brother now?” the creature asks, “No longer protecting you, hiding you beneath his wings, no one to save you now.”

Alone, she was entirely alone in this world.

“I will have you,” the queen said, “my little healer.”

“No!” She cried out, “No, no, no!”

Scrambling away from those eyes, finally free from whatever invisible chains held her down.

“Woah,” a voice, not the creatures “Hey, you’re alright, Y/n, calm down.”

A warm hand around her wrist, a shackle, a captor. He was with her, she realized, he served the queen, he would take her.

“No, no, no,” she sobs, “please, please let me go, don’t touch me, please!”

That hand ripped away from her like it had been burned, as if her skin was aflame, she wished she’d been born with fire in her veins instead of healing, she’d be able to fight her way out of this.

“Hey, you’re alright,” that voice said again, softer than before, “you’re alright, kitten, it was a dream.”

That nickname broke through some of the haze, she recognized it, felt the golden warmth that came with it.

“It was a dream,” he said again, “it’s okay, kitten, you’re okay.”

Her eyes finally took in her surroundings, the ornate room, the massive bed, the male sitting before her, another by the door.

She shied away from the second man, not quite familiar with him compared to the golden male before her. His onyx eyes were comforting, searching her own with intense curiosity.

“It’s okay, kitten,” he said, that nickname stirring her foggy mind, “you’re safe.”

“Fen?” Her mind finally supplied the name, “I- I don’t-“

“You’re okay.” Fenrys shifted closer to her, “You had a panic attack, passed out and bumped your head, you’re okay.”

Slowly, the memories started to right themselves, as if her brain had finally caught up with her. Riding with Kashin, arguing with Fenrys, kissing him, oh gods, kissing him, and healing him.

Her eyes snap to the smooth surface of his cheek, she’d taken his scar away.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

His eyes shutter for only a moment, telling her all she needed to know. She’d taken away his scar, taken it without thought, and none of it was alright, she’d ruined everything.

“It’s okay,” Fenrys says, interrupting her spiraling mind, “Kitten, I swear, I know you didn’t mean to.”

“But I did it anyway,” she says softly, her voice broken.

Those onyx eyes keep searching her, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

The fear wrapped around her chest, binding her, restricting her lungs. A warm hand around her wrist, a comfort, a friend, a tether to keep her from drowning.

“I was scared,” she gasps, drawing in a large breath, “I’ve been scared my whole life, since the day Vaughan rescued me from that lake.”

She realized that the crown prince was still standing by the door, his eyes averted but body still, listening. She wanted him to leave, didn’t want to share this with anyone but Fenrys.

Y/n forced herself to keep talking, “Since the day he realized I was a healer, when I’d crawled through their blood and tried to heal my parents, murdered by his own father.”

Fenrys gently squeezed her wrist, a quiet reassurance that he was there, that he was listening, that he understood that pain, that she was safe.

“Maeve was known to collect healers, keep them like pets,” Y/n says shakily, “Vaughan knew that she would take me too, he’d already been serving her for a century by that point, he knew what she did to her pets.”

The hand at her wrist shook a little, and she knew that he’d been one of hers, didn’t know exactly what she had done to him, beyond what he’d told her of his brother’s death, but she knew there was more.

“We hid my powers, hid me,” she continued, “No one in Doranelle knew I existed anyway, to keep me safe, he kept his visits short, he didn’t speak of me to anyone, and I hid in that village, in the cottage my parents died in, by the lake I’d almost drowned in, terrrified that the queen would come and take me at any moment. I never used my power, even by myself, over time, I guess my fear of Maeve turned into fear of myself, of healers.”

She didn’t blame her brother for any of it, but she recognized that her fear, her lack of control, was because of him hiding her away, locked in that little village by herself for nearly a century and a half.

The last time she’d seen him, she had begged him to stay with her, to do anything to keep her from losing her mind. But he’d refused, to keep her safe, away from Maeve, and she’d told him to never come back.

And she’s spent the last twenty years by herself, hoping he’d come home, and when he didn’t, even after Maeve had been slain, she knew he never would.

“She’s gone,” Fenrys said gently, his free hand lifting to her cheek, “she can’t hurt you anymore, I swear it, kitten, I drove the sword through her chest myself.”

She wondered if he told himself those words everyday, if that’s why he kept the scars, as a reminder that no matter what she’d done to him, he was the one who survived. And the creature that haunted both of their nightmares was dead, and never coming back.

Tag List

@emma-andrea1 @mgchaser @anxious-study @lees-chaotic-brain @girl-math-aint-mathing @mali22 @nikt-wazny-y @theworthlessqueen @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @lethargicluv @hannzoaks @batboygirlie @foxysouls @kiarathace

[myokk]

I just remembered my old deviant art login info from when I was like 13/14 JAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJ

I was posting every day like it was my JOB for 0 likes on every drawing 😇😇😇🙏🙏 just goes to show that when you love it you keep doing it anyways.

Here are some of the highlights (this is only a FRACTION of my old HP fanart but there was also so much manga, atla etc etc etc 😭😭)

I remember I used to get soooooo mad at my mom whenever she would look at my art and be like “wow that’s good but I think you should add backgrounds, learn anatomy, practice drawing hands etc” (she was right I always hid the hands in pockets or behind the body LMAO)

[herebecritters]

Did you know that @ickyguts blog is a year old today?

Here’s our man before getting trapped on the Isles for (seemingly) all eternity

[fernlessbastard]

hot take moment cwilbur is literally just psychotic as all hell and i think people got way too comfortable villianizing the shit out of a man who was clearly portraying signs of severe mental illness. cwilbur was like im so fucking paranoid and scared and i think everyone is out to get me and hurt me and ive spiralled to the point i cant reach out to the people closest to me because im so afraid and lost in this spiral and im having constant panic attacks and hurting myself because i dong know what to do with myself and the only way out for me is to die. and everybody was like EVIL MAN WHO ENJOYS HURTING OTHERS AND IS ABUSIVE ON PURPOSE AND A VILLAIN AND SHOULD NEVER BE TRUSTED AGAIN. and then he came back and was like im still deeply troubled and afraid but im desperately trying to make up for the wrongs i did in the past and the people i hurt in my own way and communication is really hard for me but i hope people know that im truely sorry and i love them. im going to try my hardest to fix this in the only way i know how and then respectfully remove myself from the situation because i feel thats the kindest thing i can do to the people ive hurt. and people were like ABUSER ABUSER ABUSER EVIL MAN ABUSER. like girl

Yeah no based true real no questions asked

I'd hope I manage to portray Wilbur the way he deserves in my content, cause that man is heavily bpd coded and he just needs therapy and someone who genuinely loves him but also can handle his bullshit (which has exclusively and reliably been Quackity like, canonically)

But yeah no completely agreed. The man has issues and has definitely fucked up a lot but at the end of the day he really does need love and care and patience, but also boundaries (and therapy and meds, obviously)

[deus-ex-mona]

favourite stupid relationship dynamic: idiots who would immediately protect and defend the other but never themself

[skinnypaleangryperson]

Everything has been so pathetically genuinely terribly cringe to me lately, to the point where I don't get joy out of anything anymore, but I'm trying

I'm aware enough to know that this is a side effect of severe depression and stagnance and mundaneity and generally being sick of being alive and hating everything for it

[ilkkawhat]

anybody else get extremely pissed off at their own anxiety

[scribl1ta]

not their best idea

It's based on this but I don't really know how they ended up in this situation

[jrueships]

zesty lowkey just another way for str8 ppl to say faggot / faggy and get away with it

[spr1ng]

i feel so at peace but at the same time so chaotic and drained

[dxkjf]

Guys if I start Transformers oc posting is that gonna make me cringe loser

[moonchild-in-blue]

I haven't really done much art for tumblr (at all) lately, cus life, but! Here's a lil something I've been working on (it's a Xmas gift) 💙

(also peep that lil January calendar painting 👀 i did mini squares for each month for myself, because I need to have a physical one always, and they each have their own colour 🥺)

[the-desert-beast]

i always forget that maelgwyn holds certified verified peer-reviewed dilf status. hes one of those sylvari thats been 60 since he was 3, and he literally has a daughter

her og lore is that shes an adopted olmakhan cub, but recently i've thought about her being a human who looks a lot like Jasmeen (no relation.) (something somethjing "my adopted daughter looks like the first love of my life and that makes me wonder what we could've had if i had stayed with her" Torture/Yearning {: been rotating that these past two days. We'll See™)

as an older man enjoyer its hilarious i always forget this fact maelgwyn dilf real