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seldomscilence16 · 6 months

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Whumptober day 29:

"I only sink deeper the deeper I think."

Scented candles | troubled past resurfacing | "What happened to me?"

Fandom: Voltron

Prompts used: all

Oof so this ones a little rough, but it was what I could come up with. Yell at me if you will :)

TW for implied abuse, injuries, blood mentions but not major.

…

The candle is oddly shaped- though he couldn't tell you what he thought it was supposed to be shaped like- and sat innocently in the center of the dining table. It was a gift, for some reason, and Lance felt like it was a test of some kind. It wouldn't be first.

Lance doesn't lite it, not today, he'll wait until HE says it's okay. Just to be safe.

The candle is lit, HE is gone again, and Lance has just awoken, the smell is new and fills the space so fully it's suffocating. He feels a headache building and turns to bury his face in his pillow.

"Leandro! Don't go too far! Pequeño bribón, Lancito!" The voice is worried but fond. (Little rascal)

"I'm fine mama! I'm gonna-" a shriek, cuts off the sentence, blurred view of tumbling down a rocky hill.

"LEANDRO!"

Something snaps, and pain erupts up his arm, there's blood- his arm?

Lance wakes from the light doze confused, a phantom ache in his arm. He sits up, cautiously dragging his sleeve up, he stares like he'd never seen it before, and wonders if he had. Scars litter the tan skin, old and newer, healing bruises doing little to hide them.

He presses on one-

The boy beside him holds his arm tenderly beneath cool sink water,

"Hermano, it's not that big a deal, I burn myself all the time, so do you!"

"But I burned you! I didn't-"

"Didn't mean to? I know, I was in the way and the pan was bigger than I thought. Give me a cookie and we're all good."

He gasps, the teen burned into his eyelids. His heart aches and his head pounds, as he tries to place where he knows him from. He'd looked like Lance, not like HIM, or the weird people on TV, he looked like Lance-

Human.

He had been human, like Lance. Lance was a human, who knew other humans at some point. He stumbles to his feet, dizzy as he makes his way to the bathroom, he splashes water on his face and meets his own eyes in the mirror. One Brown, one Blue.

"Think the team will notice, beautiful?"

Perhaps, if they can look up for a moment.

"Ha! You are not wrong there… maybe I can find contacts, switch back and forth and see who notices first…"

Amusing, they do claim to be observant.

The mocking in her mental voice makes Lance chuckle again.

"Don't worry Blue, I'll always appreciate you even if they don't."

And I you.

He stumbles back, hands in his hair as his head seems fit to burst with how harshly it pounds-

Cub, breathe.

"I shouldn't be c-cold. Why is it s-so c-c-cold?"

I have raised the temperature, you are within the safety of my walls, I will not let any harm come.

"R-red, why m-me? W-why is i-it always m-me?"

I wish I knew cub… you do not deserve it. I am here.

Blue, Red, voices, presences in his mind, how could he forget about two whole presences in his MIND! What is going on?!

He struggles to dress himself, the clothes ill fitting- HE likes them loose- but he manages, he doesn't have shoes- he doesn't leave this place- but the cloth on his feet resembles socks. SOCKS how did he forget what SOCKS were!? He slides into the main part of the building, his eyes fall on the candle and the purple flame-

Seventh wheel.

Too many paladins.

Leave the math to Pidge.

Not now Lance!

I told you to stay out of this!

Lance! Don't ever scare me like that again!

Lance, I'm sure you can find something to do without getting into trouble hm?

Mighty paladin, fallen before my feet, mine I shall make you, my quite the feat!

"What happened to me?" He's curled up on the floor, tears tracking down his face.

His heart thumps heavily in his chest, longing for something, he needs to get out of here. He had a life before this- however complicated it seemed- but if he stayed, he may not have a life after.

The Alien that had been parading around here, talking about some life they had together, making up quiznaking BS about life long mates, was a phonier phony than he thought.

Lance had not lost his memory in some weird accident, it had been on purpose! Maybe…. he still didn't know, but HE would be back eventually, and HE would surely be mad again. Lance needed a way out.

"Alright memories… I only sink deeper the deeper I think. So chill out for a minute, bueno? Bueno…"

He drags himself over to the table, snuffing the candle-

Burning.

Burned flesh.

It fills his nose.

Everything's bURNING!

HELP!

"Mierda!" Blood dribbles down his chin, lip sore and throbbing where teeth had bitten through skin.

Out. A way out. Come on Lance, you've been cleaning this place as long as you can remember- ha- there's gotta be a way out!

He starts with the front door; biometric lock, Lance can't find a panel to open.

The windows; thick, tinted, none openable, does not break with a chair, no ground in sight.

No back door. No laundry chute, no neighbors he can hear, no skylight, Garbage chut-

Garbage chute!

Disgusting, but his only option.

The thing is large, to fit the large bags he assumes, it does not smell, it seems pretty clean considering, but Lance can only assume what's at the bottom. Rotting food, alien bugs, an incinerator!? This could be a terrible idea.

But… it's his only one. He grabs the biggest knife from the kitchen, wraps it up to hopefully avoid stabbing himself, and stares at the chute. He sits in it awkwardly, his brain niggling on the idea of a 'slide' but Lance doubts this will be fun.

His scream is a squeaky breathy thing, to remain as quiet as possible and still release his terror as he goes down into the dark unknown. Falling for several long moments before a light appears and he slows his descent with protesting skin burning all the while.

His chest heaves as he stares at the opening, a pile of trash bags, no heat, he sends a prayer to whoever's listening, and falls.

He must look like a loonatic, running around as he is with no idea where he is or why. But he stops for no one, no rushing memories coming to him at anything he registers before him. He runs, he doesn't look back, everything aches, but he pushes, he's been through worse-

Gods he's been through worse.

He only slows as he reaches some sort of port, spaceships coming and going. He has no money, but he will be leaving this place, if it's the last thing he does.

He doesn't see the screen beside him light up with his face:

Missing:

Paladin of Voltron

*image*

"What happened to me?"

Tips or info sent to xxxxx

He doesn't look back.

#whumptober 2023 #no.29 #I only sink deeper the deeper I think #lyric #scented candles #troubled past resurfacing #what happened to me?#voltron legendary defender #fic #implied abuse #blood mentions #injuries #cliff hanger #angst #langst

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ineedchamomile · 6 months

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Whumptober 2023, Prompt No. 29: "I only sink deeper the deeper I think."

And with this piece, I have finished all of the prompts I wanted to for Whumptober! (But there's still two more I need to post on here - I'll be doing that soon.) Of all the ones that I've done this and my piece for prompt no. 23 are probably tied for my favorite. I *was* hoping to get this out on time, but by the time I finished it was already late 😂

btw, the red bubbles are just part of the spot coloring. Don't worry about the bird man, he's fine... physically, anyway. Also, if you look closely at the text there's a minor lore drop I snuck in.

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splendidissimus · 6 months

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January 2002 - Repressed Memory

((Content warning: mental manipulation, mind invasion (mentioned), false / repressed / erased memories, loss of autonomy))

((Promptspiration: @whumptober-archive 2023: day 29: I only sink deeper, the deeper I think / Troubled past resurfacing / "What happened to me?" ))

Genre: whump

Romance level: minor

Angst level: 4/5

Draco's headspace: anger / fear -> vicious -> fatalistic

((words: ~2800))

------------------------------------

Theo was watching Draco more closely than he normally had to; it had been clear to him for a while that something was weighing on him, but he was trusting in Draco to mention it if he needed to. He didn't want to talk about it, and he seemed to be handling it well enough, though mostly by throwing himself into work; he hadn't even been home in four or five days. It wasn't impairing his ability to function, so Theo didn't push, but he was there if he needed him, and he watched.

Watching so closely was how he was able, when he followed Draco through the floo, to catch the end of the subtle motion of him pulling his sleeve down to hide the flashing alarm of his heart monitor. "Draco?" He touched his back.

"Hm?" Draco looked back and up at him, casual, hiding that there was anything to acknowledge.

"What is it?"

"There's nothing."

He caught Draco's hand before he could pull away and pushed back his sleeve. The alarm was still flickering in reflection of his dangerously fast heartbeat. "Whatever this has been, it isn't getting better. Let me help."

Draco looked away and pushed his sleeve back down. "It's fine. I know it's in my head."

"Has it been getting worse?" The way Draco didn't answer or look at him confirmed it. "Tell me."

Draco glanced at him, eyes slightly narrowed, but he had made a promise to answer that phrase, and he kept it. His eyes flicked around the room. "I've been having the same dream for… months. It's getting more detailed, and I've started having… flashes… of it, while I'm awake, especially in this room." He ran his hand through his hair and gripped the back of his neck, briefly. Then he shook his hand out and he appeared composed again. "But as I said, I can handle it."

May as well get out of that room, then. Theo led the way from the drawing room with a hand on Draco's back. "What is it?"

"It's Death Eaters… It doesn't matter. It's just that it keeps coming back." He took out his potion bag as they walked. "I think I'll go to sleep until dinnertime tomorrow," he said, and took out a Dreamless Sleep potion, holding it to the light to gauge how many hours it would last for.

—

"You're wanted downstairs."

Theo wasn't used to being addressed by the portraits, especially with such purpose, and he had to blink up at it to be sure it was actually talking to him. It was the Elizabethan Malfoy portrait that Draco called his father's spy, now sharing a frame with an old woman that Theo had never bothered to ask the identity of, and that made sense. It was also looking impatient with him for delaying.

"Right. His office?"

"The master study, yes."

When he made his way to Lucius' office — sorry, study — both of Draco's parents were there, him sitting at the desk and her beside it facing her husband, looking very much like he was walking in on a serious conversation, and the way they both looked over at him was decidedly uncomfortable.

"You've no practical experience with Memory Charms, have you?" Lucius said with no preamble.

"No…"

"Might I suggest you acquire it. In the meantime," he pushed a business card across the desk, "arrange a pretext for him to visit her." He looked at the name on the card, and then glanced back up for an explanation. "An Obliviator of particular discretion."

He glanced at the portrait behind Lucius' desk, now observing; he didn't have to ask how Draco's father knew anything, no doubt it had been eavesdropping when they came home. Obviously his parents knew something Draco didn't, something that troubled them. "Then you're saying he's not dreaming?"

"I'm saying that if you mean to help him, this is what you'll do."

The door swung open and hit the wall solidly. Draco was wearing a narrow expression of fury that made him look sharp. "No — answer the question, Father."

"Draco—"

"Because it didn't." His voice had started low and clipped, but as he came closer it got higher, as anger gave way to something less controlled. His hands clenched in tight white balls. "That never happened!"

"You're right!" Lucius had to raise his voice to get through to him over his own yelling. "It isn't a real memory."

"Then what is it?" he demanded. "What do you know? Why do I keep thinking of… of…"

His parents exchanged a look that would have been subtle outside this house but was a yell to people accustomed to speaking their language. "Just get rid of it," his mother said. "Don't worry about it."

"No! Tell me! Tell me what happened to me!"

"The Dark Lord did it," Lucius said flatly. "Gave you a memory that never happened. Punishment for your failures, and your… proclivities."

"No…" He took a step backward, pulling away. "He can't — he couldn't —"

"He took amusement in giving his victims such visions they would wish they were dead, at times. When he wanted to truly make them suffer before he killed them. Or, occasionally, in lieu of killing them, when he could still use them."

Draco gripped the back of his neck so tightly his fingernails were going to draw blood. "When? I don't— I would know…"

"The first night."

"No. No, I passed out when you were Crucioing me, and that's it."

"No," Theo said quietly. "I've seen that memory… that's not what happened. Voldemort did do something, and you started… you had a bad reaction."

Draco's eyes jerked from Theo back to his parents, flicking between them before focusing on his father. "And so you Obliviated me? You just decided to take my memories? What right—"

His mother interrupted. "I did."

If they thought that would temper his anger, that he couldn't be angry with his mother, they badly miscalculated. "Of course it was you!" he exploded. "Who else could it be? Who else thinks that my mind is their plaything besides you and Lord Voldemort? Now getting rid of my inconvenient emotions wasn't good enough. Why even stop at memories? Why not just root around and pull things out until you actually fix me? Maybe you can even make me like women and not have to deal with a fucking fairy—"

"Don't speak to your mother that way," Lucius ordered him. She was bearing Draco's outburst stoically, but she had crossed her arms. "The Dark Lord—"

"Stop calling him that, you sycophant, there's no one here to impress."

Lucius' eyes narrowed. "Voldemort left little option. You couldn't keep that. No one had any way of knowing you would be this fragile."

He was trying to reason with Draco; that was the wrong tactic. There was no point trying use logic with him when he was in full attack mode — he wasn't interested in the truth or working anything out, he was just lashing out to hurt people as deeply as possible. Anything they said would just be turned into more ammunition for him to turn back on them.

"What else did you take?" Draco demanded. "How much more?"

"Nothing," his mother said firmly.

"I don't believe you." He looked like he was realising this as he said it, and he backed away. "But I'll never know, will I?" The cuff on his wrist started flashing.

Theo stepped forward, arm out between them to try to steer him back. "Draco, you need to calm down," he started. He didn't get to go any further; Draco raised his hand and clenched it without even really looking at him, and then he had the disturbing sensation of his mouth being fused together, pressing his tongue flat as his teeth disappeared and he had no lips to open. He backed off, groping at it and fumbling for his wand.

"You can't just do this to me!" Draco screamed at his parents. "Stay out of my mind! It's broken and it's shitty but it's mine and you don't get to touch it! I'm not an extension of you for you to pose like a doll and dress up like you like. If that's what you want, go have another kid, if you think between you you can scrape together enough emotion for another human being — maybe you can raise them right this time, and you can have what you always wanted, and leave me alone!"

And then he was gone, slamming the door behind him, with his magic instead of his hands. The silence felt deafening. Draco was a storm, at times, sweeping through, overwhelming, irresistible, leaving destruction in his wake when he moved on. It was awesome to behold, but being caught in it left you miserable and disoriented. Theo was relieved to have only been hit by the edge of the blast directed at his parents. That was exhausting enough.

Theo finally ended Draco's curse on him in the calm after he'd left, watching the door, and thoughtfully put his wand away.

"A while ago, I actually suggested modifying his memory to get rid of his dreams," he said. "To make it easier. He made a pretty convincing argument that it would drive him mad if he knew he couldn't trust his mind."

His parents didn't respond. His mother turned her back to the door and stared into the fire. It was quiet for a minute.

"The solution seems pretty clear," the portrait noted. "Have the old memory removed, and the memory of this. Perhaps try to do it better this time."

"Not helpful," Lucius said, tone annoyed. The portrait sniffed.

In another minute, Theo silently left the room to see if he could find him.

—

It took Theo some time to find Draco, because the last place he would have expected to find him was the drawing room, the scene of whatever false memory had been haunting his dreams. He only found him there when he had come to the conclusion that Draco had left and was on his way to follow him.

"Draco." He couldn't help the tinge of relief in his voice. Draco hadn't even taken his favourite chair, he was just sitting in the middle of a sofa with his elbows resting on his knees.

He came to put his hand on Draco's shoulder, but Draco reached up to knock his hand away before he could touch him. "I'm fine," Draco said, and spread his hands to show how he wasn't crying, or sick, or caught deep down in his thoughts, or exploding with rage. "You can go report to your masters that I'm not tearing down the house around their ears."

"I didn't come for them." He sat down beside him, but didn't touch. "I work for you, remember?"

"Sure." He clasped his hands between his knees again.

Theo studied the firelight flickering over his distant expression. "Are you actually okay?"

"If I say 'no', what are you going to do? Cheering Charm to make me be happy? Numbing Hex so I don't care? Sleeping Charm so I'll sleep it off? Obliviate away the memory of tonight?"

"Just talking," Theo said patiently.

Draco looked distantly into the fire. "Now I know my mother has done every one of those things, and probably more that she didn't think I needed to be aware of."

"Cheering Charm? That doesn't really sound like her."

"I was a happy kid, but not always. I guess when I was little that was the easiest way to deal with it when I got sulky." He gripped his hands tighter. "But at least that was temporary. This is an irreversible change."

He kneaded his hands together, hard, absently pressing his thumb along the bones of his hand like he was going to force them out.

"I can't trust them ever again," he said distantly. "Even if I want to, I can't. How could I?"

"They were helping. You might not like what they did, but you know why they did it."

"That's right," Draco said acidly. "I guess that proves I can trust them, all of you, to do one thing: whatever you think is best, whether that means you're doing something for me or about me or to me. And what I want doesn't matter."

"Why are you including me in that? Are you saying you can't trust me, either?"

"Don't pretend like you weren't going to do what he said."

"Seeing this…" He searched Draco's drawn face. "Yeah, I'd have thought about it, at least. Is it doing you any good to remember? Because it looks like it's just hurting you."

"It's not remembering that's hurting me. I think I could have dealt with that memory… It's so far beyond awful, I want to be sick, but I think I could have handled it, eventually. Especially knowing it wasn't real." He bowed his head over his knees and gripped the back of it with both hands. "It's… Now, every dream I have, I have to wonder, is that another torture memory he forced into my head? Or even something that really happened that they tried to erase? Every memory I can't get out of my head, I have to wonder if it happened, or did he put it there? How much of what I know is real? Everything that happened… is that really how it went? After what I think is the end, is there more I was made to forget? Did I do things I don't know, that were erased 'for my own good'?"

Theo could see how Draco's quick mind was working against him. The moment he was introduced to the first problem, that his dream was a memory, his mind immediately jumped ahead to find the second and third layers of the problem without pausing to process any of it. He didn't have time to come to terms with one thing at a time; it all piled on him at once.

"Has this started coming back before?" Draco wondered blankly toward his knees. "And they got me Obliviated before I could remember completely? …Have I learned this before and they had that memory erased, too?"

"I really don't think so."

"But that's the point, isn't it? You don't actually know. And neither do I. I never can. For the rest of my life, I'll never know…"

Theo set his hand on Draco's back, and Draco let him this time. He rubbed his back slowly, but Draco wasn't tense; he was loose, defeated, almost limp.

"I don't know what to do," Draco admitted quietly.

"I think the first thing is really just to sleep. This might seem less overwhelming if you get some decent rest, and you can think about it better in the morning." If he'd just gone to sleep when he'd said he was going to, he wouldn't have noticed Theo coming downstairs, he wouldn't have followed, he wouldn't have heard any of this… He wouldn't be having to deal with this. If only he'd done that, if only Theo had checked that he'd done it, this could all have been avoided.

Draco didn't answer for a moment. "Not here," he finally said, dully. "Everything here is memories. I'll go back to my office."

"Or to my house."

Draco thought about it, then nodded. Theo felt a tiny knot in his chest unclench; what that meant was that, no matter what he said, Draco did still trust him.

"Can I come with you?"

"Do whatever you want… it's not like I could stop you."

"Tell me 'no' and I won't," he said patiently.

"You don't get how that's not the same." Draco pushed himself to his feet. "Yes. You can come."

"All right. Go ahead, I have to get something."

"Tell my parents, you mean?" Draco said. "Don't bother." He pointed over and up the wall without looking, and only then did Theo see the Elizabethan portrait sharing a frame with a witch on a horse.

"No, I really do have to get my stuff, but I'll be right behind you."

Draco nodded without answering and through floo powder into the fire to take him to Theo's house.

Theo sat back with a sigh, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully. "I'll try to bring him back tomorrow," he said in a minute to the portrait, since now he didn't have to actually find Draco's parents now. "If he's not okay, I'll let you know."

Then he went upstairs to get his books and join Draco.

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ohanahoku-ao3 · 2 months

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Whumptober 2023 Day 29

Teen & Up - Gen - Merlin (TV)

Those Empty Eyes (How I'm Pained to See Them)

Hunith knew her son well and had always been able to tell what he was thinking when she looked at him, his expressive eyes as plain to read as words written on a page. So when Merlin came home for a visit in his fifth year of living in Camelot, she immediately knew something was wrong. Merlin’s eyes, once so open and emotive and bright, were dull and distant, blank in an unsettling way she’d never seen.

Even as he smiled and hugged her, there was no change in those eyes, no flicker of happiness or joy, even as they wrinkled slightly in the corners. But Hunith knew better than to press her son for answers right away, instead welcoming him inside to the small home they used to share, sitting him down as she chattered about their small-town gossip, regaling him with tales of what his old neighbors had been up to recently.

Merlin was with her for two weeks, the longest time he’d come back for, and she hoped that he would perk up over the first week, but it never happened. Merlin helped her with chores, talked to their neighbors, and even told stories of his time in Camelot. But the whole time, his eyes had that dull, blank look about them. It was sad to see, but Hunith knew her son well, and these people didn’t; the villagers were completely fooled by his smile and charm, believing Merlin had it made in Camelot.

The first time she saw even a sliver of emotion was one night when a drunken villager tried to get too familiar with her. Merlin was at her side instantly, hand gripped painfully tight around the man’s wrist as his eyes blazed with a fissure of anger cracking through the haze. “You will leave her alone.” He ordered, pushing him away with a little more force than necessary as his eyes flared gold for a brief moment.

Then he turned back to her, the anger fading to a thin layer of concern as he checked that she was okay. When they reached her house, his eyes were back to that lusterless veneer.

Eventually, she couldn’t take it anymore and sat him down, resting her hand on his forearm and squeezing gently. “Merlin, speak to me. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” Her son tried to assure her, his lips curved in a reassuring grin but overshadowed by the numb look in his gaze.

“Don’t you lie to me, Merlin. You’ve not been yourself since you came home.” Hunith said, pleading with her son. “Please, just talk to me. You know I am here for you, no matter what manner of problem you are dealing with.”

Merlin’s gaze trailed away from hers, drifting to the floor as he ducked his head and played with the lace of his boot where his leg rested on the bed. “I can’t.” He said after a pause of silence, his voice thick and low as though he were fighting to speak past a lump in his throat.

“You can.” Hunith insisted, dipping her head down to try and catch his gaze, but he only turned his head away. “Merlin, I am your mother. No matter what it is that’s happened, all I want to do is help. I know destiny has been cruel to you, my love. But I cannot stand to see you like this because of it. Let me help, please, Merlin.”

Finally, Merlin looked up at her, his eyes shining with pure grief and brimmed with tears that clung to his lashes. He opened his mouth, but no words came forth, just a sob that broke Hunith’s heart in two as she pulled her son into a safe embrace. “Merlin, my son, my sweet baby. It’s okay now, I’m here.” She soothed, holding the young man close as he shattered in her arms.

They sat there all through the night as Merlin spilled his soul out to her, explaining in detail the things that he had seen, the hurts and sorrows he endured, the things that he had done, the good and the bad, and the entangled way the two parallels wound together until he wasn’t even sure which decision was truly good or bad. He told her about the prophecies he’d seen, the way some had come to pass, and how some had resulted from his actions. Merlin shared with her all the shame and guilt that burdened his shoulders and confided in her about his self-hatred and the bitterness he’d begun to feel towards fate and destiny. He told her about the nightmares and the terror that resided in him day by day, even when awake, the constant fear of being found out, being betrayed by Arthur and sentenced to death by flame or sword, and which he thought would be the best way to go. Every dark thought he had, every moment of resignation where he wished for death, thought to kill, or wanted to destroy everything he should have been fighting for because it was all too much and he just wanted it to be over.

And Hunith sat there, holding him, listening to him, and watching as Merlin sank deeper and deeper into a cavernous pit of depression and anger the more that he thought, spoke, and explained. She watched as a myriad of emotions passed through his eyes, every one overshadowed by his grief and tinged with anger. She stayed mostly silent, letting him get every last worry off his chest, but was quick to answer when he finally stopped and asked:

“What happened to me?”

“Oh, my boy.” Hunith cupped his cheek, wiping away a few tears. “You were given such a burden by the forces of this world. You’ve been forced to carry so much on your shoulders. But you are still my son. You may think you’re a monster, but all I see when I look at you is a young man who is so brave and kind. I see my son, who has been hurt, so hurt, and yet who keeps trying to do the right thing.” She pulled him close and kissed his forehead. “My boy, I always knew you were meant for great things from the time you were little.” She said, pulling back and looking into those vulnerable, open, and hopeful eyes. “I still believe that. But I also believe you have done enough, Merlin. If you want to cast destiny to the roadside, I won’t protest. I’d love to have you stay with me, maybe settle down with a nice family?” She suggested with a smile, her heart aching for her son, wanting nothing more than his happiness, Camelot and Albion be damned!

Merlin’s lips curled into a half smile before faltering, and he took his mother’s hand in his. “I can’t just leave Arthur unprotected.” He told her, voice and eyes heavy with guilt and regret but firm in his belief. After a moment, a little humor poked through, and he quirked a small smile at her. “The prat can’t even find his boots on his own; he’d never survive long without me.”

Hunith sighed, watching him for a moment before smiling herself. “I knew you wouldn’t leave. No matter how much it pains you, you’ll always protect Arthur. That’s how I know you’re still my son. You’ve always been so loyal, Merlin.”

#whumptober2023 #no.29 #I only sink deeper the deeper I think #what happened to me #bbc merlin #fic #brief mention of suicidal thoughts tw #merlin #hunith #merlin and hunith

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writerartistdreamer · 6 months

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Title: His anchor

@whumptober @whumptober-archive

(You can also read this on AO3!)

Posting Day: 29

Prompt Day 29: "I only sink deeper the deeper I think"

Fandom: Once Upon a Time (TV)

Characters: Rumplestiltskin, Belle

Summary: Rumplestiltskin is stuck in his own mind, trapped by the darkness and pulled away by the voices of the dark ones, drowning in the dark. Luckily, Belle is the one that can pull him back to the surface, his guiding light and anchor.

Rumplestiltskin was lost in his thoughts, lost in his head, lost in his voices, drowning deeper and deeper as they took over him. He tried to scramble to the surface, to fight back, to push against the tide, yet they were pulling him down. The voices were once again raging inside his head, calling him names, bringing the worst memories back to the surface to torture him, to make him suffer like nothing and nobody else ever could.

The darkness within was powerful, more powerful than any scrolls on the Dark One may even manage to reveal, and nothing could easily pull him back to the surface, back to the living world, to his human self. The man within was being shot down, pushed, transformed into a particle that could easily be crushed.

"Rumple? Rumple, do you hear me? Rumple", Belle shouted as he shook him, holding him by the shoulders. She noticed him bent over the wheel, the spinning a constant, lifeless motion in the background as she was reading her book. It was true that he spun often, bringing his wheel to her library so the two could spend more time in each other's presence while doing what they loved, but the way he sat there, clawing at himself and at the wheel, was not normal.

She noticed as his claws began to dig into his palms, noticed as his eyes darkened, as the man and the Dark One fought within him to gain ground. She found him at times, fighting against the darkness, trying to keep himself afloat, away from sinking too deep into the wretched voices that had a hold of him and she noticed that her presence, her voice sometimes help bring him back. The beauty couldn't understand exactly why, yet she did her best to try and bring him back around, attempted to bring him back to reality.

When his little maid approached, the voices instantly began to recoil. They began to let go of him, to stop pushing and instead allow him to resurface, revolted by the light that seemed to be surrounding the young girl. Belle was the light amidst his darkness, the guiding lamplight in a dark hallway, the moon shining on the night sky. She seemed to be made of light, of the very matter that the sun was created from, so bright and overwhelming, yet warm and welcoming. Rumplestiltskin slowly pushed away from the depths he had been pulled in and quickly came back to his senses, the real man that always seemed to want to be around and do better when his little maid was around.

The darkness from his eyes faded, revealing his amber gaze once more as he found her ocean blue eyes, his sharp nails stopped digging into his palms, and he shook his head for a moment, shaking away the blurr and the uncertainty around him. "Yes, dearie, I'm here", he spoke ever so softly, watching her in awe, but also welcoming her as the only familiarity he was able to accept. The dark ones tried to dig their claws into him once again, yet failed, recoiling when faced with the brave beauty that stood in front of the sorcerer.

Belle let out a sigh of relief, watching him return to himself and to the real world around. She offered a reassuring smile and let go of his shoulders, grabbing one of his hands into her and caressing his palm ever so gently. "Well, hello", she said and her smile did not fade, it only brightened when he acknowledged her. "I was thinking...perhaps you would like to read with me for a little while? I know it's quite late in the evening, but slumber seems to be avoiding me still", the brunette offered as she pointed at the two armchairs near the fireplace, a book balancing on one of its arms. She figured it would be a good distraction, a good way to find some peace and calm after facing the darkness and almost succumbing to it, it was all she was able to offer. She waited for the man's nod, then he stood up and walked away from the wheel with her, still holding on to her hand.

"Yes, dearie, I think I will be joining you", Rumple spoke and followed her to the armchairs, holding on to her hand as if it was his anchor to the world, his only lifeline. He forgot all about the darkness and instead chose to be greeted by her divinity, by her light, basking in its sacred warmth as they sat to read the night away.

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nyastri · 6 months

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I ended up doing some minor editing and some adding to my fic. I felt really rushed while writing this story, and I wasn’t completely satisfied with how it turned out. So I went back and hopefully made it better.

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Linked Universe - Fandom, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Hyrule & Legend (Linked Universe) Additional Tags: Self-Harm, Derealization, Angst, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Anxiety Attacks, Really not sure if this is graphic but it's detailed, So be warned, Whump, Still not sure if this is technically whump but I hope so Series: Part 2 of The Nature of Dreams Summary:

Sometimes, Legend would think he was stuck in a dream again. Thankfully, he now had a method for verifying if he was in reality or not. Who cares if this method isn't exactly "healthy"?

Whumptober day 29: Troubled past resurfacing, "I only sink deeper the deeper I think"

#whumptober2023 #no.29 #troubled past resurfacing #i only sink deeper the deeper i think #derealization #self h@rm #linked universe #lu #lu legend #legend whump #lu hyrule #downfall duo

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dirtytransmasc · 8 months

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hey there, cool blog <3 I love reading your takes on things

so I wanted to ask your take on larycent and what you think we’ll see in season 2

(wrote this whole thing out and then my computer died before I could post it. my first attempt at this was much better. this is cruel and unusual punishment, this whole thing is now infused with anger. not towards you, just in general.)

I should first start off by saying, thank you, I'm so happy you like reading my stuff, second off, I'll say I may be one of the worst people to ask, cause Larys is one of those characters I hate so much, plot be damned, he could choke on one of his stupid flowers within the first 5 minutes of season 2 and I couldn't give less of a shit. I'm not typically like that with characters, I tend to try and give a character enough grace to care about their place in plot, but Larys just makes me that angry. despite this, I will try to be appropriately opinionated and give you a proper answer lol.

from a story point of view their dynamic is fascinating. here's this guy with such little standing (compared to her as queen) who wields so much power against her. it starts out when she is young and alone, he spots this weakness and befriends her, giving her information, gives her company she so longs for, slowly spinning this web around her. then as she gets older, he becomes a sort of confidant, biding his time, until he finds the right moment to strike. he bends her words, given in great trust and secrecy, most likely not the first dangerous secret they've shared, and uses it to 'justify' (he didn't need her command to do it, he just waited to do it in a way that he could hold her accountable for it) killing his father and brother. this gives him power, he can use this against her, to keep her close. he's piled up blackmail at this point, he's got her bound in his web of secrets, she can't leave.

she knows he's dangerous now, she has to keep him close, or he could hurt her, her kids, her image, the people around her.

the other thing is, he gets off on it all. he gets off on bringing her to his level, by stripping her of her agency as queen so that way they are equals.

then by some means, he gets her to give herself up in a sexual manner. he had already been doing this, in a way; I vaguely remember some sort of statement or interview from Matthew Needham about how Larys gets off on bringing her down, on filling her with shame and guilt, on making her feel dirty. so getting her to truthfully give herself up to him for whether it be to keep him satisfied (I'll come back to this point in a second) or for information, gives him the ultimate gratification.

he was like a parasite, taking and taking and taking from her until he was satisfied. she couldn't get rid of him, as he posed a threat to her and others, she couldn't ignore him because then he would act out and be a threat. he had to be kept satisfied. she had to give him a purpose, a use, an outlet to feel like he had power. like a dog, if he was left to himself, he would grow bored and unruly, she had to offer herself to keep him entertained.

both Olivia and Matthew played this dynamic out so well. Matthew played Larys so slimey and gross and just irksome, I was uncomfortable whenever he was on screen. Olivia played Alicent's discomfort and forced compliance so well, I just felt insanely bad the whole time.

it really built Larys up as this thinly veiled evil, he could be... well behaved and friendly, he could be useful, he could be an ally of sorts, all for a price, and if that price went unpaid or he felt undervalued, he could quickly become something so downright awful. he could be something downright evil if he wanted to really, that he was willing to bend words and step on toes (ironically) to get what he wanted and show off his power.

it also built up Alicent, adding onto her list of horrors in life, and putting her in this power limbo. she was queen, yet she was felled by this nobleman, brought down to his level if not lower. while some (*ahem* team black stans *cough cough*) saught to demonize her for her suffering, it really led me to sympathize with her more than before. she had suffered this mans sick and twisted game since she was a child, and he shows no signs of stopping. she's always stepping around fear, knowing the monster she let into her chambers, unable to get him out.

so, outside of the fact that I hate to see my girl suffering so horrible, I can't say I love their dynamic, but I don't hate it... its like, so horrible but so interesting, and I hate it not because it's poorly done or unnecessary, it just makes me feel gross and horrible. 10/10 characterization, 10/10 portrayal, 10/10 plot building -100/10 making me feel nice lmao.

onto predictions: I think she's going to attempt to stand up to him and fail. at the end of season 1 we see her lose Viserys (abuser number 1) and stand up to Otto (abuser number 2) finally putting him in his place after years of biting her tongue to him, acting against him (ordering Aegon be brought to her, that the crowning of aegon/treatment of Rhaenyra be under her command, etc,). I think she'll attempt to continue this pattern and stand up to Larys, who has been nothing but an aching wound in her side.

its only then that he will truly show how evil he can be. he will show his anger, his wrath, the power he holds over her head. he has years of blackmail against her, he will make this evident. it wouldn't surprise me if we get a scene paralleling Daemon and Rhaenyra and the choking scene, if even if only slightly. he will do something to make her keep him at her side. I think he will be the first to bring true horror to our girl. we have seen fear, strife, anxiety, worry, and disbelief, but we have not seen horror. truthfully, I think he's the only one I believe capable of doing that to her.

he is happy to remain sat loyally at her feet (again, the irony) so long as she respects him and lets him use her to get off when he pleases, so after his little show of power, when he instills fear into her once more, he will lie back down like a good little parasitic inside man, while she waits in fear, forever caught in his web. it brings this new air of sick and twisted to it all; his true self has been revealed, he can no longer be looked at with any level of incapacity or harmlessness (not that he really could before, but I don't really know how to describe what I'm thinking of in any other way), yet he reverts back to his normal self. he may be more assertive of his power over her, his word may have a sharper edge to them, but he will still play his role as her obedient servant, while she suffers the stresses of it all.

its this forced 'trust' Alicent is forced to reenter that will keep him at her side up until the end of it (I believe they separate when he is to smuggle Maelor out of the city, but I'm not sure if/when Maelor will be brought into the city, so we'll see how that goes) and I think that dynamic will be equally awful as it is interesting to watch play out.

#important note: I have only skimmed the book so all I really know about Larys is from the show #he's just such a vile monstrous person to me #I can barely get myself to like him form a character/plot aspect #I just hate him and want him dead #the dynamic he has with my girl destroys me #but I will concede that they are portrayed on a godly level #its so well done #props to #matthew needham #and #olivia cooke #but yeah #I think she's gonna try and stand up to him and he is not going to take it well at all #he's gonna sink his teeth deeper into her and she's not gonna be able to really do anything about it #and then he's gonna be this source of terror for her as she tries to navigate the war #knowing very intimately on multiple levels what he's capable and just having to accept that as her new reality #just like she had when he killed his father/brother #evil evil man doing evil evil things #he's gonna be scary #larys strong #alicent hightower #pro alicent hightower #pro team green #anti larys strong #house of the dragon #hotd #trying to give Larys my due diligence for analysis and discourse purposes is going to be the death of me #but I tried my best for you <3

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