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eviltothecore13 · 1 year

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Is it just me or has fandom overall...changed a lot in how it talks about its favourite characters over the past few years?

It used to be people who really liked a character would be like “this character’s the best at everything, they can do no wrong, they’d win every fight, they have a plan for everything, they’re the coolest cleverest most attractive person in the whole story!!!”, and like...that could go too far, it could be annoying or just really really inaccurate compared to canon (I used to know a Jill fan who insisted that Jill could easily beat every single character in the series in a fight--and look, Jill is very cool, but Chris was canonically the best in hand-to-hand combat at STARS and was also training HER in marksmanship, Jill is of course extremely capable but...she really does not have to be the best at everything to prove why she’s your favourite...for that matter, Wesker fans who were like “Wesker in RE5 has to be a clone/a fake/whatever because the REAL Wesker would never LOSE because Wesker can’t make mistakes!”...always made me go *stop, please, it’s embarrassing*), but it did...make sense why someone who really loved a character would say these things about them?

But now it seems like the kind of comments people make about their favourite characters, and the way they portray them in fics, are...pretty much the opposite of that? People will be like “my blorbo is SO STUPID! they’re so useless they can’t do ANYTHING! they’re a pathetic weak little wet paper bag!”

Like, a few years ago if I’d seen a post saying things like that about a character I’d assume it was written by someone who hated them?

And obviously...sometimes a character you love is kind of a dork, or makes some silly mistakes sometimes. Other times a character you love is a terrible evil person. I’m not saying everyone should equate liking a character with thinking they’re perfect. But...most popular characters AREN’T actually completely stupid and incompetent at absolutely everything, and I can never quite get my head around it when people seem to hold this view of a character and it’s clearly not true, like...if you really think they’re pathetic, stupid, and can’t do anything right...do you really like them that much?

I’ve seen fandom call characters stupid/idiots when they are either science geniuses, or they’re brilliant inventors who build sci-fi gadgets, or they’re scheming chessmaster strategist types who manipulate all the other characters for years and come very close to taking over the world, or maybe they just canonically speak several languages and are well-read, or even if canon doesn’t focus much on their intelligence you’ve got characters like Chris who was a USAF fighter pilot--which means he has a degree, judging by the timeline probably an Air Force Academy one, which means he was likely in the top 3% of his high school classes and DEFINITELY didn’t “barely scrape through” as I often see headcanoned (not just by people who want to bash him but people who are like “I love him! He’s such a big dumb himbo! He’s so stupid!!” like. what.)

Similarly I see characters who are canonically very confident and self-assured, never really doubting themselves for a second, and who canonically react to things going wrong by calmly adapting their plans and moving forwards without ever getting discouraged, get tagged on posts about “pathetic wet paper bag men who’ve never had a good day in their life and an insult from a child would make them cry”.

Or characters who are shown in canon as dangerous, powerful and near-fearless fighters get written in fics, by people who say they’re their favourites, as spending all their time crying and flinching and not even trying to defend themself from whoever’s attacking/trying to hurt them (and not because they went through some major trauma previously in the fic that left them in this state, either--often the fic is set during canon and the character is just...like that rather than something having happened to change them from who they were at that point in their life in canon)... personally, while I enjoy whump, whumping a character who’s ALREADY weak and helpless and spends all their time curled up in a corner crying BEFORE whatever you do to them in the fic can easily just feel like kicking them while they’re down and is honestly boring because it doesn’t show anything NEW about the character, so it’s particularly odd to see fics written that way when the character in canon is exactly the confident powerful type that I do think is fun to whump.

(For a specific example, RE canon is that Wesker and Sergei had a rivalry and Wesker seems to view Sergei mostly with disdain and see him as an annoying obstacle. Wesker never gives any sign of being scared of or intimidated by Sergei, and certainly doesn’t seem to start panicking the instant Sergei enters a room. And even before he had his powers, he had extensive combat training by the time he met Sergei, and Sergei being taller and heavier doesn’t inherently mean that Wesker would be defenceless and go down in one punch in a fight, or even that Wesker would LOSE a fight against him. Canon doesn’t depict Wesker as a helpless victim for Sergei to beat up...hurt him by all means but it’s OOC if Wesker doesn’t give as good as he gets.)

Oh, and characters who are canonically master manipulators who are experts at getting people on their side and gaining their trust being portrayed as so socially awkward and clueless that they’re incapable of holding a conversation without coming across offputtingly weird...

Maybe I’m the odd one out here but I can’t really get why you’d want to present your favourite character as LESS capable, LESS intelligent, LESS brave or confident or powerful or whatever other impressive traits they might have in canon? Like I wouldn’t go so far as to say I ADMIRE all my favourite characters, because some of them are murderous evil monsters, but...I generally do see them as either having some kind of admirable personality trait (courage, integrity, confidence, determination... or maybe just a lot of charisma and a good sense of humour, though I feel like charisma tends to overlap with confidence a fair bit...), or at least as being very good at what they do. I can kind of get the appeal of the “sweet and kind and caring but not that bright ‘golden retriever man’ type”, even though they’re not usually MY type, because I know some people primarily like characters who they think it would be good to be friends with (and most of those types of characters aren’t USELESS, at the very least they tend to be good at listening and being supportive), but when someone’s favourite character is a bad person AND they seem to think they’re stupid, useless, incompetent and pathetic on top of being evil it’s like...so what do you even like about them?

#I can even enjoy seeing a character at their lowest saddest point #but there has to be some contrast #otherwise it's just one-note #'sad' on its own is not a trait that will usually make me want to spend time with a character #if a character does nothing but mope about and feel sorry for themself throughout the story and never tries to improve their situation...#that's just a one-note 'damsel in distress' trope but as the protagonist #and it also just gets really monotonous #and I also just don't want a character who is always miserable existing in my head all the time #of course there are great and interesting characters who struggle with clinical depression #but there are ways of writing that #without making your character essentially replaceable with a wet tea towel with a sad face drawn on it #who gets bounced around the plot like a pinball #that's just a Sexy Lamp but replace 'sexy' with 'sad'#and while the Sexy Lamp test is meant to be about whether female characters are written as flat characters out of sexism #a flat useless male character might not be sexist but he certainly is boring #if all I know about them is 'they're sad and weak' that doesn't motivate me to want to spend time with them...#even 'they're an awful person but they're fun' is much more appealing than that

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zhongrin · 6 months

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festered wounds

— when you’ve never been the first choice your whole life, it’s hard to accept the possibility that you could be loved.

✼ characters ┈ zhongli, al haitham, wriothesley

✼ tags ┈ gn!reader, this is more of a vent drabble, hurt with comfort, reader with massive insecurity issues, implied past trauma, slight blood & gore in the portrayal of ‘hurt’

✼ a/n ┈ this…. got really personal, haha. i wrote this in a bad headspace, so apologies if it got depressing or if it’s of a low quality. i didn't want to have this in my drafts and i certainly don't want to bring it to 2024 so i'm just posting this now.

ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ) ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)

“i’m sorry.”

zhongli’s heart dropped at the words escaping your lips. this was certainly the most unexpected response you could give to his confession, seeing the promising recent developments in your relationship — and so celestia forgive him, he had to pause to gather his thoughts. this made you fidget even more under his gaze, and so you succumbed to your frazzled nerves to continue in a more panicked voice.

“i’m sorry, mr. zhongli, i know you’re not the type to resort to deceit or find joy in toying with people’s feelings, but i’m just— i can’t—” you trailed off, feeling your chest tighten in pain.

“please, hold your tongue for a moment,” the refined man held out one of his hand to settle onto your shoulder comfortingly. his expression was a mixture of worry and confusion, eyebrows furrowing in a sign of distress. “are you saying that you… do not believe my words? you think i have malicious intentions?”

“….. i’m sorry, i’m just not used to- i’ve never-” you stumbled over your words and squeezed your eyes shut, “i’m sorry….”

zhongli watched you for a moment, observing the smallest ticks and the story behind your body language. you looked so vulnerable, like a scared animal instinctively cowering at some invisible threat. you looked as if someone had stripped away a bandage that had been haphazardly wrapped around a wound left unattended for so long, it had festered into an abomination, eating away at you slowly, even now.

belatedly, he realized that ‘someone’ was himself.

zhongli inhaled deeply, his palm leaving your shoulder. this time, he took his hands to tenderly grab your fingers, lifting them up to silently plead for your attention. your eyes were troubled and full of storms, the rain and lighting reflecting on your expression as a solemn flutter of your eyelashes and sorrowful downturn of your lips. the slight tremble of your body reflected the silent call for help from a blemished heart that never had the courage to forget.

“my dearest. i see the pain you have gone through. i have yet to know the tales that had marred your heart, but i want you to know that i am willing to be the pair of ears you tell your grievances to, and you can be rest assured that they will be safe with me. i know my words will not be enough to convince you otherwise at this moment… however, you must forgive my impatience, for it stems out of genuine love. i simply must humbly ask once again—”

“— please, give me a chance to heal you.”

“a-are you sure you want me?”

out of the 18 different responses he anticipated, al haitham did not expect this. however, his surprise merely manifested in the rising of both of his eyebrows and the subtle shift on his legs.

“unlike the consensus the public seemed to have one-sidedly agreed on, i am not foolish enough in the matter of romance as to confess to someone i do not hold deep affection and great care for,” he said in the same tone as the moment he asked if you would consider taking your relationship into the ‘officially dating’ phase, “is it not obvious? kaveh claimed i was ‘laying it on thick’ and cyno had noted of how i treat you better than how i treat the dendro archon.”

“oh….”

“….”

you thought you had gotten used to al haitham’s stare with how much you both had been hanging out, but right now you couldn’t seem to lift your head. the scholar crossed his arms, waiting patiently for your response. you were both gratuitous and dreading his resilience.

“i-i still think you could do better, though. i mean, look at you! you’re so fit, so wouldn’t you feel better if your partner is more of the sporty type? and you’re the top graduate of the haravatat darshan, so you would pair better with someone smarter…. a-and someone like me will just drag you down; aesthetically speaking, i… uh, leave much to be desired while you’re… you know…”

you spoke of such illogical assumptions and erroneous advices that he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. you spoke of belittling yourself as if you were used to riding on the rails of insurmountably low dip of the self-esteem cliff for years. you spoke of these things as if you were repeating words someone told you at least once in your life.

and it angered him.

but he wasn’t angry at you. he was angry for you.

funny how empathy wasn’t his strong suit, and yet he jumped on the bandwagon as easily as an otter taking off into the waters the moment it came to you and your emotions.

“i care not for such shallow qualifications when it comes to seeking a partner. your presence triggers the relevant hormones that make me feel relaxed and comfortable, and my mind spontaneously seek for your attention. it’s only logical that i seek for an arrangement that would ensure these pleasant things to happen and develop further.”

“you’re the best choice for a partner, simply because i wish to spend the rest of my life with you; and i think that's enough.”

“i don’t think i’m a good choice for you…”

wriothesley looked as if you had pinpointed his weak point in a boxing match and delivered a straight jab right onto it. his lips slacked open and his body froze as he tried to process your words, the meaning behind it, the—

he inhaled deeply and punched his own fist into his palm, stretching his jaw with a growl before a darker tone took over his voice.

“alright, who’s been talking shit? let me at them. it won’t be manslaughter if they don’t die, right?”

he watched as your nervously fiddling fingers stopped twisting around each other, your eyes widened in shock and alarm at his words. briefly, he praised himself inwardly for being able to switch your mood at the snap of his fingers. now if only he could do that, but instead of surprise-and-horror, it could turn into surprise-and-joy instead…

“what?! wait- no! no one said that, i ju—”

“then is your own head telling you that?”

“it’s—” you gulped, gaze slowly breaking away.

he sensed a secret kept safe under the heaviest chains and locks. pain that had nearly torn up that warm heart of yours, shoved into the furthest part of you in a desperate attempt to save yourself; to silence the damned screams and the river of curses that would have made you self-destruct. he saw the remains of the thousands of needles that had embedded itself deep inside your worn heart a long time ago, and yet still it beat and struggled to not bleed out and drown you in its venomous blood.

he saw a heart as scarred as his skin, and he understood.

“..… alright, sweetheart, listen up, and listen close.”

the man’s hands suddenly cradled your cheeks, his icy blue eyes penetrating your clouded gaze. his whole demeanor had shifted into gentle and loving, as if he was holding his entire world in the palms of his hands. he resisted the urge to kiss you when you couldn’t help but lean onto his touch, instinctively seeking comfort.

he would do you better. he would give you the kind of love you’ve yet to experience. there were so much he wanted to say, but he chose to speak of the reassurance he thought you needed most at this moment.

“i say you’re the perfect choice for me. let me prove it to you.”

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #zhongli #zhongli x reader #al haitham #al haitham x reader #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #rin writes

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walpu · 4 months

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pre-relationship stage with them

characters - Gepard, Aventurine notes- gn!reader, pining, light angst but mostly fluffy, a bit of hurt/comfort. I love blonde preservation men okay. no beta we die like the economy in my country

Gepard

Poor poor Geppie.

He pines so much. Treats his love for you like a tender flower. Even his feelings for you is something so precious to him, he's happy to simply be in love with a person like yourself.

I feel like this poor man willd try so much to do everything for you without giving away how deeply he cares and how intense his feelings are.

"Aw, lil' Geppie, you care about y/n so much!"

"I- I do not. I mean, of course I do! But- There's nothing surprising about it. After all, it's my duty as a Captain to care about every citizen. And, of course, it's my duty as a friend to care about y/n.

Sure, Gepard. Sure.

He would never say something like this to your face though. After all, he simply can't lie to you.

Oh but how he adores you. His face literally lights up when he sees you, the most gentle smile blooms on his face when he watches you doing even the most trivial task.

Tries to act like his usual self around you but it's pretty evident to everyone that you're his weak spot.

Would gently scold you if you would ever put yourself in danger or break any rules.

If you would get seriously hurt would actually lose his mind. Would blame himself even if the situation has nothing to do with him. Beats himself up, asks for your forgiveness and does his best to help you.

Despite the popular belief that he would prioritize his work over his beloved, I don't think it's true. Sure, he takes his duties seriously, but he would always find time for you. Would make sure to see you at least two times a weak, would answer your texts and calls. If you need him, would certainly be right by your side. Even if it means he would have to work overtime later.

Tease him a bit and he's all red. Doesn't try to stop you though, secretly adores your attention.

Would be oblivious to the fact that you like him back. Like. Really dense about it.

He's just so used to giving, to protecting, he simply doesn't expect anything in return. He has silently accepted the fact that you may never love him back, but he will be there for you regardless of it, no matter what.

Plus, he feels like he may not be the one for you. Like you need someone who doesn't have to constantly put their life in danger, who can always be by your side, who won't break your heart. Because he's painfully aware that each fight may actually be his last. That he may not come back to you.

Speaking of that. He would make sure to say a proper goodbye to you before every battle or expedition. Nothing too sappy or depressing, he doesn't want to make you worry, after all. Would probably tell you to take care of yourself, to sleep well and to eat healthy food lol. He really just wants to make sure that he got to see you before heading straight into the battle.

If you're a Silvermane guard as well, would restrict himself even more, not wanting to use his position or to be pushy. However, would still be worried sick, even more so. Would still talk to you before every battle, asking almost begging you to be careful.

Loves giving you head pats.

Generally the goodest boy. Just make sure to make the first move because otherwise he would be satisfied with just being your loyal puppy.

Aventurine

Good lord.

This man is such a mess.

Be ready for a mindfuck but not because he's manipulative towards you or something like that but because there's so many layers of trauma in him.

You have to be patient with him okay.

I feel like pre-relationship stage would be so confusing to him. He had flings in the past, okay? Short ones, meaningless. Something to distress, to feel another person's touch, to feel some sort of connection, no matter how shallow it is. He knew he uses those people and that those people use him in return. Not once he asked them to be gentle or caring.

But with you it's so different. Doesn't matter if your relationship started sexually and developed into something more or if it was mostly platonic/slow since the beginning. He still feels something. And he's not sure if he likes it.

Sometimes it feels so good to be seen, to be addressed as a person, not just as a tool. But sometimes it scares him. After all, this man hasn't been vulnerable with anyone for a long, long time.

I'm sorry but I feel like he would try to pull away from you a bit after realizing how much you actually mean to him.

Oh but he will crumble if you reach out to him, okay? He simply can't ditch you like that, not when you see him for him and want him for him.

Even if it's scary.

Would slowly relax around you. Don't expect him to open up easily but still, the more time you spend together, the more his cocky mask will slip away.

Will randomly and out of the blue tell you small details about his past. You two may walk down the street together and he will see something that reminds him of Sigonia so he will share this memory with you.

It may be the smallest thing but it means a lot to him that you listen. Even this tiny moments of vulnerability are hard for him.

On the more positive note, he's so fun to be around. Would tease you and cling to you all of the time. If you tease him back, he would pretend to be offended but would actually enjoy the playful banter a lot.

Just don't tease him too much about him becoming more and more clingy with each passing day.

Spoils you rotten. New clothes, jewelry, watches, shoes, anything you may want or need. He still can't quite get rid of this idea that you have to be convenient for someone to be valuable. It's not like he's trying to buy your love but... Maybe subconsciously he does. Once again, be patient. This man is so used to the fact that all of his alliances are build on mutual benefit that it's still hard to accept that you're really here for him.

Spoiler even when he will feel more stable in your relationship and his mindset will turn more healthy, gift giving will still remain one of his love languages.

Just like Gepard, would care greatly about your safety. He may be careless about his own life but never with yours.

Loves, loves, loves physical contact. As I said before, gets very clingy, putting his arm over your shoulder or tugging on your sleeve. If he's feeling down, would crawl to you side and subtly brush his shoulder against yours or lean to your side. He may still have his confident smile but those small gestures show that he wants you to be the one holding him this time.

Invades your personal space a lot actually. Texts you constantly too lmao.

LOVES SILLY NICKNAMES. Would call you his dearest darling in the sweetest voice during the most inappropriate time and then laugh at your reaction. Would settle for something more casual like "baby" when he's not trying to be a pain in the ass. Still tries to play it off as something teasing. Deep down yearns to call you this without having to pretend that this is just a playful banter between two friends.

Oh and he would dance around the topic of dating, throwing hints but never having the courage to ask openly. So good luck with him.

#hsr #honkai star rail #hsr aventurine #aventurine #aventurine x reader #gepard #gepard landau #hsr gepard #gepard x reader #walp's writing

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auncyen · 7 days

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ALSO ALSO while thinking about the whole Sadness scenario I started thinking about "how common are Sadnesses in every day life and how are they handled?" The first I would imagine is that they're relatively rare and the latter is that. Any sizable community has both preventive and healing measures (because they have to figure someone eventually's going to slip through the cracks, or they might get someone trying to escape a rough past). I kind of feel like since the Defenders in Jouvente never saw anything worse than robbery probably a lot of their work is actually along the lines of community service where they're like repairing things, checking in on disabled/elderly/otherwise isolated residents to make sure they're doing okay and see if there's anything they can do to help, etc. In a big city like Jouvente it's probably not uncommon to see a Sadness on the "harmless blob" level, but it's treated as a serious matter where they need to try to figure out who needs help before they get worse.

But like, on an individual scale, you probably get more mixed feelings about Sadnesses than just "oh let's help the person". And like.

...So basically how the chain of thought went was "y'know kids can be depressed/upset sometimes and if they're REALLY young they don't know how to express what they're feeling at all. can you imagine how terrifying it'd be for parents to have their child be all sad and then seem a little happier for a moment, saying they have a friend, and then you catch them with their 'friend' and YOUR FOUR-YEAR-OLD IS PLAYING WITH THEIR OWN SADNESS"

then it was like "isn't one of the Sadnesses literally just Anxiety. That'd be one hell of a way to find out your child has anxiety, because they've got a Sadness"

then: "...wait. Mirabelle has anxiety."

Just like. If Mirabelle being on kind of distant/weird terms with her family is because her anxiety was causing her so much distress that she had a Sadness as a child and whether her parents just didn't try or did try but were at a loss of how to help her, she ended up at a House of Change as part of like a healing program (being taught coping skills, life skills to build confidence) and eventually just was like YEAH I'D RATHER STAY HERE AND BE A HOUSEMAIDEN

#in stars and time #in stars and time spoilers #(very vaguely)#mirabelle

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carlyraejepsans · 2 years

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You've mentioned multiple times now Sans canonically switching fonts if I'm not mistaken? What/when are the instances of those?

To be precise, he switches from comic sans to the standard Determined font, so you could also technically call it "turning off his typeface".

there's four notable examples that come to mind

When we first meet him:

he even spaces the letters apart sightly, which implies he's talking slowly and deliberately. this fits two explanations, one doylistic: we don't know him yet, nor do we know the connection between skeletons and fonts so suddenly seeing dialogue in comic sans would break the tension in the scene; and one watsonian: he's trying to scare the crap out of you, so he uses the most terrifying voice he can make.

At the MTT Resort date

Yup. This one pretty much cements the interpretation that he switches fonts to sound scarier. He even does the creepy "music cuts out, speaks slowly and spaces the letters apart for maximum effect" he did in Snowdin Forest. But moving on,

In the Final Hallway

While it's definitely meant to mirror our first meeting, what with the foreground elements hiding his appearance/disappearance, our being backlit throughout the whole scene, and the complete lack of music... there's no way that the player doesn't recognize his silhouette, and knowing the whole speaking in fonts shtick, seeing comic sans shouldn't break the scene anymore.

he's not spacing the letters apart like the previous occasions and he's speaking at normal speed, so I'd rule out that he's trying to sound scary, but he still drops his font in favor of the standard one, right until the moment his actual judgement begins (ie when he checks your EXP and LV). while you could still make a compelling doylistic argument re: comic sans just looks stupid in this scene, i think the font switch makes perfect sense if you read it as sans just being solemn for once. his judgement will inevitably get lighter-hearted*, and he'll go back to his font and soudfont, but it really feels like he wants to open the matter setting a serious tone. this is the end now. enough messing around.

*speaking of the tone of the judgement getting lighter. know what font he uses when it doesn't?

....yeah.

The Lost Soul fight

now THIS. this is an interesting one. because not only does it happen in battle, but there are three VERY big differences when compared to the occasions i listed above:

he's not capitalizing his sentences

he's not silent when he speaks. on the contrary, he's actually using a different soundfont: the standart one you hear with the narrator and secondary NPCs.

his text moves like a wave, much in the same way as napstablook, the heavily depressed ghost who's constantly crying, and the amalgamates (all bar endogeny, who doesn't speak at all) who are... well. you can assume what emotional state they are in.**

honestly I could talk about this detail alone for HOURS, especially when you consider that as soon as his memories are returned, he immediately goes back to his usual font AND soundfont

our friends during the lost souls fight are supposed to be at their lowest, confronting their character flaws and their demons. and considering the nature of what sans says, well... i think it's fair to assume he's either straight up crying or in otherwise extreme emotional distress.

aaaaand that's it! that's all the occasions that come to mind. from what we're shown, we can gather that sans switches off his font for occasions where the mood is far from light, either because it's serious, solemm, scary, or just plain sad.

there's a couple notable occasions that fit these criteria but still use comic sans, such as the "do you wanna have a bad time", threat the "heya. you've been busy, uh?" monologue before the genocide fight, and the genocide fight itself, though all of them can be explained with the fact that the pacing of the dialogue was far too fast for it to be effective.

but yeah. the lost soul segment is the one that makes me tear my hair out. hope this answered your question!

#**..... ALRIGHT ALRIGHT AARON DOES IT TOO. ARE YOU HAPPY NOW???#and the waterfall monsters. but those are water based monsters the context is different. they clearly don't count #actually. i changed my mind. aaron is just constantly flexing through the tears #THERE #undertale #sans #entry log #answered asks #metanalysis

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coraniaid · 5 months

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I guess I'm running the risk of sounding like a broken record at this point, but I don't think I'll ever not be deeply depressed by the way so many people on here talk about Joyce Summers.

I mean, I'm just thinking out loud here, but. Maybe the reason that Giles was much more immediately accepting of Buffy's identity as the Slayer than Joyce was might have something to do with the fact that Giles has been training to be a Watcher for over three decades when he first meets Buffy? That his family sat him down and explained to him that vampires were real when he was a child, and that he's had over thirty years to get used to that fact? And that he is in fact literally paid to train Buffy and mentor her and prepare her for being killed in the Cruciamentum after she turns eighteen and he helps rob her of her powers her destiny?

Whereas Joyce learns about the reality of vampires and Slayers and the supernatural for the very first time while in a state of extreme emotional distress, only hours after discovering that her daughter is wanted by the police for murder, and in circumstances such that Buffy simply has no time to sit her down and explain things in more detail in the manner they would both want? Which is a turn of events that can be attributed in large part to the fact that Giles himself repeatedly told Buffy that she couldn't possibly tell her mother about vampires, even after (1) a vampire attacked her in her own home (in Season 1's Angel) and even after (2) the vampire Buffy had been dating, who had a standing invitation into her house, lost his soul and started going after the people closest to her, people explicitly including Joyce. (And note that Giles never offers a better argument for not sharing this potentially life-saving information than Xander's "the more people who know the secret the more it cheapens it for the rest of us".)

I mean, I know you're all pretty wedded to the popular competing theory that it's because *checks notes* Giles is a perfect dad who Buffy should have been much more grateful and sympathetic towards while Joyce is an evil bitch who never once did a good thing for her daughter (and Buffy must be stupid for ever thinking or saying otherwise), but the problem is that that theory is … uh, bad, actually. Really incredibly cartoonishly bad. And dressing it up in pseudo-progressive language doesn't make it any better.

Wringing your hands over how poorly you think the show writes middle-aged women as if there's simply nothing to be done about it except conclude that they are indeed horrible people (and maybe give them some completely new flaws the show never did), while at the same time you write endless hagiographies and apologia for the show's canonically terrible (and often just as badly under-written) men is definitely a choice though.

And yes, it is definitely true that Giles matters more to the story of Buffy the Vampire Slayer than Joyce does. It is clear that the writers care about him more as a character than they care about Joyce, and that he is consistently used in a metaphorical way that Joyce normally isn't. At best you can perhaps argue that Joyce exists to vocalize and reify Buffy's own lingering desires to be seen as respectable and 'normal', but I don't think this is a reading the show ever commits to in the systematic way it does the Mind/Heart/Spirit reading of Giles/Xander/Willow. But on a less metaphorical level, thinking about the different characters of the show purely as distinct people in their own right, nothing Buffy says or does ever suggests she cares about her relationship with Giles more than her relationship with Joyce. Quite the opposite, in fact.

#btvs

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actual-changeling · 4 months

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Aziraphale Does NOT Have Depression

or: Please Have a Look at the ICD

or: This Word Does Not Mean What You Think It Does

I cannot believe I even have to make this post, but here we are. Hi. Hello guys. Maybe I should start a series called "Alex fact-checks meta posts" because I have seen things that should have never been written.

A small excursion before we start: The way things usually work in academic circles is that the person making the claim needs to provide proof for said claim, which is then peer-reviewed by unrelated academic parties. That involves not only making sure that the results they are basing their claim on are replicable—meaning that if someone else were to do the same work, they would receive the same result—but also that their methods were ethical and functional.

If it turns out that their methods or any other part of the process are not replicable, functional, or otherwise waterproof, then the paper is marked as not being correct and that it should be disregarded.

While this is far from academic circles, these rules still apply to any kind of conversation or discussion, especially that last part:

If you make a claim, back it up, or it should be disregarded.

With that, welcome to the peer-review of "Aziraphale has depression" claims. Obligatory note that this is not about fanfiction or headcanons but people claiming that Aziraphale canonically has depression.

You may sit in front of your screen and think Alex, why do you think you can write this post? To which I happily respond that not only am I professionally diagnosed with both Dysthymia and Recurrent Depressive Disorder, I have also a) done my research offline with psychiatrists and psychologists and b) know how to read academic literature because my degree very much requires me to be able to do so.

If you want to go and fact-check what I am about to present—which you are explicitly invited to do in case you want to publicly disagree with me—you can find the entirety of the ICD 11 right here.

No paywall, completely free access.

For those who have never heard of it, ICD stands for "International Classification of Diseases", which is by now on its 11th version and written and maintained by the WHO/World Health Organization. It contains all kinds of relevant information, like diagnostic criteria, about all diseases. As you can see, this includes mental disorders and illnesses:

Let's get into it!

First things first, there is no such thing as "depression", that term is a colloquial reduction of a number of different disorders categorized under Mood Disorders -> Depressive Disorders. Said category also contains any and all diagnoses related to Bipolar Disorders.

"Depression" is nondescript, loose, and can mean a long list of things, and social media has diluted and romanticized its meaning. For the purpose of this post, we will have a look at the criteria for three diagnoses:

Dysthymic disorder (shortened here to dysthymia)

Single episode depressive disorder, mild ( // to single episode)

Recurrent depressive disorder, current episode mild ( // recurrent)

I assume people mean a crude mix of these when they say "depression". Both recurrent and single episode can be diagnosed with dysthymia, but they cannot be diagnosed with each other. Recurrent automatically excludes single episode as a diagnosis, which I think is obvious if you think about it.

Before we look at the symptoms themselves, here is something very important to keep in mind about diagnoses: There are two requirements that pretty much every listed disorder and illness in the ICD has.

The first is that the symptoms are not related to something else—whether that's another mental disorder, a physical illness, or simply a cultural influence. It needs to be clear that they are due to something outside of what is already known and not circumstantial.

The second one is that the present symptoms are causing significant distress and impair a person's functioning in at least two different areas of life.

Or, to put it bluntly, a disorder needs to be disordering or it isn't one.

Additionally, the severity of the displayed symptoms needs to be taken into account. If several of them are not causing any negative impact on someone's life, they are not symptoms and cannot be counted.

Now, I will very much reduce the information the ICD provides us with or we will be here forever, but it is all correct and not partial in its meaning. To keep everything neat and tidy, I created a nice, colour-coded table:

If you disagree with what I marked for Aziraphale, great, please provide me with textual evidence of where exactly he exhibits each criteria, that it is not related to periodical stress or something else, and cannot be attributed to exceptional circumstances (like the end of the world).

The ONLY symptom we ever see Aziraphale consistently show throughout all six thousand thousand years is the one marked in yellow: low self-worth or excessive or inappropriate guilt.

However, if you paid attention to what I explained above, you will notice why this is in no way indicative of a depressive disorder.

Not only is it one symptom out of several required ones, it can also be explained by something else, which is the emotional neglect and abuse heaven subjected and subjects every (former) angel to. The same can be said for any anxious symptoms he exhibits sometimes, emphasis on sometimes.

In conclusion, Aziraphale does not have depression, and I think making a case that he does will be almost entirely built on assumptions and subjective interpretations, not anything that is in any shape or form supported by text or subtext.

Does that mean all of his struggles are somehow invalid? No, of course not. They are simply not due to a disorder but something else, that's literally all this post proves. It makes no moral judgement.

#alex talks good omens #good omens meta #good omens season 2 #aziraphale meta #go2 #aziraphale #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable husbands #good omens #ineffable wives #ineffable spouses #crowley

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emmitaaa4 · 4 months

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I want to preface this little rant by saying that I am all for ship and let ship—at the end of the day none of this has any significance, and we should all get to enjoy our silly little ships to our heart’s content. Me personally I just want Elain to do whatever the hell she wants and be happy in the end. That being said, rn I just felt like getting something off my chest.

From what I have seen and understood, most of The Other Side believes that Azriel feels entitled to Elain. That he sees her as a sexual object, or at the very most as a rebound he doesn’t truly care for, nor respect; he does not think of her beyond what he can get from her sexually. They say his attitude towards her is toxic in its ‘possessiveness’; he doesn’t consider her an equal, for he sees her as a perpetual damsel in distress he must save; his attraction to her / feelings for her are a symptom of some twisted trauma response.

We know that they believe that. We’ve heard it. Over and over and over. Since 2021. Hell, everybody’s momma probably knows it, too, with the way that rhetoric is spread. But Elriels have made it plenty clear that we have a very different interpretation of the text and do NOT agree with those assessments of Azriel (nor half the things the poor man is diagnosed with, bless his fictional soul), considering what we do know of Azriel’s character and his relationship with Elain, based on the books--and yes, the bonus (see this, this, and this post). Otherwise—i.e. if we believed him an incel x fuckboy hybrid (probs the first of his kind!) who is only interested in getting her in is bed—we would obviously not be shipping them together: most of us (99% I’d say lol) care about Elain more than we do Az, or care about them both just as much.

So it is getting pretty tiring to see us shippers—the actual humans behind the screen—labelled as having a toxic/immature view of what love is, of being “too young/naive” to see the supposed red flags, of mistaking lust for love because we have not experienced a healthy relationship (?), of actually promoting toxic relationships & advocating for toxic masculinity (which someone told me on tiktok just now)(stay away from tiktok, folks). Those generalizations are wild to me, not only because they are wildly untrue and condescending, but because Elriels are a colorful bunch, you know—when you’re speaking of the fandom Villain™, you’re speaking of people of every demographic, speaking of daughters mothers grandmothers, depressed uni students (pardon the self-insert), etc... I need to get thicker skin, but those statements can get pretty hurtful in the long run. And I’m tired of feeling the need to justify myself as if we’re wrong for shipping two people who MUTUALLY want one another and lets be serious, no its not “just lust”.

I know I know, I am probably being dramatic. But it’s just weird to see a ship being so demonized and its shippers along with it, all because louder portions of the fandom disagree with our opinions and insist on toxifying ours. Just to be clear, I know that many have had unpleasant experiences/interactions with Elriels, just like many Elriels have had the same with Gwynriels and/or Eluciens. I condone none of the disgusting behaviour I’ve seen from some shippers, and in fact I abhor it. As everyone should.

To end this on a good note.

Elriels, I say we run with it. Az wants Elain for himself. He is jealous and his mind is plagued by thoughts of her. Her presence is too much to bear, for he can’t stand to be in the same room as her and pretend like he feels nothing. He is ready to beg on his knees for a chance to worship her, and it took Nesta one look to see it.

AZ IS OBSESSED AND I SAY WE EMBRACE IT.

#pro azriel #elain archeron #ship and let ship folks #that said embrace the obsession my elriel girlies #azriel #elriel #rant post #azriel bonus chapter #pro elriel #azriel shadowsinger #acotar

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seoafin · 1 year

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nail in the coffin

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader x geto suguru warnings/tags: established relationship, definitely not healthy relationship dynamics, explicit mentions of sex, dubious consent, happy birthday to my babygirl geto suguru im sorry this is so depressing, not exactly angst but not exactly fluff, unhealthy jealousy. talk of pregnancies and children. also mandatory gojo warning tag and he's not even in the fic. word count: ~3.8k read on ao3

“I don’t know what to get Suguru for his birthday.”

Shoko looks up from her paperwork at you. You lay on the infirmary bed closest to her desk, hands neatly folded over your stomach, as if about to relay all your worries to a shrink.

Your distress must be palpable because she shoots you a look of pure amusement. “You’ve done fine these past few years. I’ve never seen a man so happy to receive a potted plant.”

You stare at the ceiling, gnawing on your inner cheek. “It’s different now.”

“Oh?”

It is different now. Or maybe it isn’t. Maybe you’re overthinking it, about all the infinitesimal ways things have changed when they haven’t. It feels like you’re the only one floundering, overwhelmed, trying to navigate the dynamics of your new relationship with Suguru and Satoru. Except the two of them are the same as they’ve always been: smiling, laughing, touching you like their hands belong on your skin, bringing you close with the same confidence of two high schoolers ready to take on the world.

Except it isn’t exactly new, according to your two boyfriends. Satoru had said nothing would change. Suguru told you that you didn’t need to be scared, that now, the three of you could stay together forever, and isn’t that what you had wanted in the first place? A relationship was a promise. A promise the three of you shared.

You’re still uncertain. Terrified.

Maybe nothing had changed for the two of them. But you approached the idea of a romantic relationship with apprehension and the panic of a fleeing hare. You’re not made for it, built for their love in a way anyone else would be. A normal, happy person would be ideal. You’re formed a little too oddly: not exactly straight, bent and twisted in sharp angles, and battered in places only a child can reach.

But when they hold you, the world feels like a better place, and everything feels a little more okay. You wonder if they feel the same. And when they kiss you, you do all you can to cling to that feeling, otherwise you’d drown in your constant worries.

It’s a temporary solution to a sinking ship.

“You’re spiraling,” Shoko hums, the pen in her grip twirling around her hand. “Come back.”

You blink, feeling suddenly restless. “I just…want it to be special. More special.” You hesitate. “Satoru’s abroad too, so…”

Suguru hadn’t said anything about his upcoming birthday. Not even a mention of it. As if he had wanted to spare you this exact mental and emotional turmoil. Overthinking and agonizing over a seemingly mundane event. This morning, he kissed you, a brief passionate thing, before heading to Kyoto for a meeting at Kyoto Jujustu Tech, promising to be back before six. He had headed out the door only to come back three minutes later to take you on the counter, leaving you breathless and sated, your mind in twists and knots. Then while you had been in a daze, he had smoothed over your clothes, hands running over your body (a teasing pinch here and there), drawn you back back on two feet, and kissed you again, murmuring low declarations of love against your lip.

I love you. I’ll see you soon.

Love, love, love.

He pocketed your panties.

“You’re overthinking it,” comes Shoko’s reply. “From you, he’d be happy with a rock.” She eyes you as if she can discern every thought. “You don’t need to overcompensate. You’ve always been enough.”

Warmth blossoms in your chest at her words, tension unraveling, despite your uneasiness, and you appreciate them. Any other year, a new book and your sorry attempt at baking a cake would have sufficed. But now you aren’t sure. What do people get their lovers on their birthday? What had Satoru gotten for Suguru on his previous birthdays? Suguru for Satoru? You won’t be able to measure up. Not with all your failings in romance.

After a disastrous first date, and Satoru’s absence, you only want to make him happy.

You reluctantly rise from the bed. “If Satoru were here…” You trail off. Two weeks abroad in the Philippines experiencing the last of torrential monsoons, discovering the sweets of a different culture, and documenting it all for you and Suguru and Shoko. You never get used to the feeling of missing him.

His presence would be welcome, but you aren’t sure this is something you could confide in to anyone but Shoko. Sometimes, you think your doubts are something they just wouldn’t be able to comprehend.

Just as you feared, a romantic relationship is profoundly different from sex. A purely sexual relationship with Satoru and Suguru had also meant your friendship could remain intact. Separate. Maybe at first, you had told yourself you didn’t mind, not when it made them so happy. Maybe you had always wanted it, but you didn’t need it. You were happy before, content. You don’t know how to be a lover. You don’t even know how to love, not in the way they deserve.

Bent and twisted.

You glance at the clock, feet hanging over the bed. “I should go. Tsumiki’s going to help the girls make a cake for Suguru.” You smile at the thought. Of course, you’d be relegated to clean up duty, but you wouldn’t be alone. Megumi would keep you company, just as he always did. A small extension of your shadow glued to your side while the girls fed batter to Megumi’s divine dogs and laughed, chattering about school assignments and their upcoming school field trip to the aquarium.

Only then would you be able to forget about your worries for a while.

Getting to your feet, Shoko stops you.

“If you’re really that worried about a gift. Have you considered pregnancy?”

You nearly trip over your feet.

She shakes her head, laughter on the tip of her sigh. “That got your attention, didn’t it?”

……..

Suguru comes home just as the cake has been wrapped and placed into the oven to cook. Nanako immediately moves to stand in front of the oven with Tsumiki, their bodies blocking the cake. Suguru feigns ignorance about the cake as Mimiko clings to his leg. He picks her up in his arms and plants a kiss on top of her head, drawing Nanako away from the oven to demand a kiss for her too.

You’re washing the dishes, giving them to Megumi to dry when Suguru’s arm snakes around your waist and brings you chest to chest. Before you can utter a syllable, Suguru kisses you.

To the delight of the girls, and the great suffering of Megumi, who wrinkles his nose, places the dry plate in his hands on the rack, climbs down the stool, and shuffles away, divine dogs nipping at his feet. The girls follow after him, giggling. Video games in Megumi’s room, you’re sure.

He’s unusually happy. You could’ve sworn he had been whistling the same tune you often hear from Satoru’s lips. “I’m home.”

You place a steadying hand on his chest, a slow smile spreading on your face. “Welcome home.”

Suguru chuckles, brushing the hair out of your face fondly. “You sound like a housewife.” Then he glances at the apron tied around your waist, and kisses you again until you’re breathless, fingers fisted tight in his shirt.

“I was thinking,” he says, not disheveled in the slightest. Unlike you. “How about we go out tonight? There’s an izakaya that just opened up not far from here. We can go and decide whether or not it’s good enough to appease Satoru’s high taste.”

As long as there were sugary drinks and more sugar, you’re sure that would be more than enough to keep Satoru quiet for dinner.

“I don’t mind.” You look on the counter and realize Suguru brought home takeout KFC for the kids. Mimiko will be delighted. “I thought you had to get up early tomorrow—”

“I can be late,” he replies, lips curling into a mischievous smile. “I wasn’t planning on an early night anyway.”

Your face heats at the implication. At the memory of his lips this morning, the shape of his hands, and the burning desire of his gaze. You look to his pocket, unconsciously, and his lips pull into a teasing smirk. You look away, embarrassed. Feel heat pooling between your thighs underneath his darkening gaze.

You don’t get to ask him about what he might like for his birthday, what Satoru’s gotten him on his previous birthdays (before you had been added to this convoluted romantic equation), or anything of that note. Mimiko runs back into the kitchen and demands Suguru’s attention for a school project.

……..

The izakaya is bustling, close to bursting open with the amount of patrons seated around the wooden counter and in small, packed tables around the restaurant, forcing people leg to leg, shoulder to shoulder. Suguru leads you in, and you can’t help but be amused at the way the waitress brightens at his arrival, and the sight of her disappointment when she catches sight of you, next to him. There are two empty seats at the counter and you raise an eyebrow at Suguru. On a piece of paper in front plastered to the front door: No reservations.

Upon being seated, Suguru and the waitress, Akari chat about the popular items on the menu as you look around the small area bathed in dim lights, and the scent of meat grilling on charcoal. You’d like to come here with Shoko on your next night out, and drink. Cheers erupt from across the izakaya. Five or six tables haphazardly pushed together to make one long table seating what looks like drinking college students. Girls on one side, guys on the other.

“A mixer,” Akari says, almost apologetically, as Suguru takes your jacket and hooks it behind him. She takes out a notepad and a pen. “I’m sure they’ll be ready to leave soon. You know how college students can be!”

“A mixer, huh,” Suguru muses. “I don’t miss those.”

“I’m sure you were popular with all the girls,” Akari blurts out. As if realizing her words, she flushes prettily. Suguru looks faintly embarrassed at the compliment, ducking his head.

“Well, I doubt I would’ve noticed either way,” Suguru says with a short chuckle, apologetic. “There was only one girl I was only ever interested in so…”

He’s looking at you. Even though the izakaya is thoroughly heated to stave off the winter cold outside, your face warms, insides twisting, and you swallow. Suguru takes your hand, massaging, warming it up from the biting cold.

“Oh!” She replies, clasping her hands together dreamily. “How long have the two of you been together?”

“Three years, give or take. It feels like we’ve been together since highschool though.”

You blink. Three years? Since high school? According to your estimations, it’s only been three months. You don’t have time to dwell on it because Akari asks if you’re ready to order.

Suguru orders a little bit of everything. Braised foods, grilled foods, potato and cucumber salad, tuna and salmon sashimi, and two large pints of hakkaisan. You hadn’t planned on drinking tonight, but Suguru only grins conspiratorially, (“you have to try the seishu if you want to come here with Shoko”) and he’s right. Only the best for her. You note the menu has an entire subsection dedicated to western ice cream sundae desserts. Satoru will definitely like that.

Akari takes your order and briefly returns with your appetizers and two large pints of Hakkaisan. Suguru takes a picture and sends it to Satoru. Your phone vibrates from the force of the rapid stream of texts sent by Satoru's fast fingers. You turn your phone on silent.

When you take a large, long sip, it’s Suguru’s turn to raise an eyebrow. He wipes the foam off your lips and licks it off his thumb. You pointedly look away. Suguru’s laugh is good natured.

“Now,” Suguru murmurs, still audible despite the increasingly present background noise. He lightly bumps his leg into yours. He looks concerned. “What’s on your mind?”

Three years. High school. Birthday presents. His birthday. It all dies on your tongue.

“How was the meeting?” You ask instead.

Suguru doesn’t push. “Fine. Boring. Naoya was there.”

You down the rest of your Hakkaisan as Suguru looks on. You don’t know if you can be sober for this conversation. You don’t know if you want to. Satoru- kun , Suguru- kun . You frown. When there’s nothing left in your glass, you let him feed you a glazed meatball.

“Nothing about—”

“If Naoya wants to inherit the clan, leaving Megumi alone works in his favor. We both know how he feels about his inheritance, and I doubt he’ll change his mind.”

(Megumi, aged ten, coolly staring down at a seated Naobito: No. Thanks.)

“ Killing Megumi works in his favor,” you point out. It’s awful. He’d do it too like the coward he is. You’d previously held no strong feelings towards the Zenin other than annoyance and mutual dislike. He had liked Satoru and Suguru well enough, trailing after them while thinking you an eyesore, severely annoyed at your resistance to calling him Naoya- sama like his servants back home. Where, to him, is exactly where you belonged.

At least Shoko- chan is useful . Even if she is a woman, he’d said. You didn’t need him to tell you what you already knew. When he crudely told you that there were more useful things she could be doing, like passing down her reverse cursed technique, you had activated your own cursed technique and pushed him into the lake.

You supposed he was still sore about that, although you, yourself, had forgotten about it. After that altercation in high school, you never saw him again. Until Megumi.

“They won’t take him.” You say severely. “I won’t let them.”

Megumi and Tsumiki were yours , just as much as Mimiko and Nanako were Suguru’s, and you’d fight tooth and nail, just as you had when you were a high schooler to protect them.

“ We won’t let them,” Suguru says gently. “We’ll protect the children.”

You relax at his words. The three of you. Just like it had been in high school. But also it’s not really the same is it? Now Suguru and Satoru kiss you like they’ve always been doing it. Nothing’s changed, you hear Satoru say in your head, but everything has. Now you regularly fall asleep to the sound of soft breathing, sandwiched between two bodies, and wake up to hands roaming your body as if they belong there. And when they fuck you, it’s so tender you’re unsure of what to do. You never dwell on it too long, you can’t, because they’re insistent on keeping you with them, in the heat of the moment, until you’re so strung out you can’t formulate words. Again and again, over and over—

Have you considered pregnancy?

You aren’t even sure Satoru or Suguru want children, least of all with you. You’d be a horrible mother. Children—

You don’t know. Not anymore. It’s all so confusing. So you order the strongest whiskey cocktail on the menu, and ask for an extra dose of whiskey as Suguru looks on, and when Akari delivers it along with your first courses, you down the entire thing. And then order another.

……..

To everyone’s great astonishment, you had been twelve drinks in when Suguru cut you off. You’re not drunk. You think. Everything is slightly tilted towards the right but that might just be the weight of your head tilting precariously to one side. Even the dim lights are bright to your eyes. Okay, you’re drunk.

Suguru is looking at you, slightly swaying on your stool with such a lovestruck expression that the tangled bundle of nerves in your stomach slightly settles. You love him so much. But you also know that you are poisoning this relationship, this thing you have Satoru and Suguru, with your fears and concerns. It’s not right. It’s all your fault.

You love him and Satoru so much it feels like your heart might burst. You’re so happy that any day you’re terrified it might come to an abrupt end. You’re not ready for it to end. It will end. It always does. And it’ll be your fault for being so weak. For giving in.

You stand, placing a hand on Suguru’s shoulder to steady yourself. His hand automatically goes to your waist.

“Washroom,” you tell him and you slowly make your way to the door, Suguru’s gaze following you all the way inside. The buzzing of the fluorescent lights scratch your eyes as you hover over the sink and sigh. You shouldn’t have drank so much.

You breathe, splash water on your face, and wash your hands. You aren’t sober, but you’re on your way. When you exit the bathroom, two college aged girls are sidled up to Suguru, and you stare.

You aren’t quite sure what to do. From the looks of it, they could just be having a conversation. You’re ill equipped and unprepared to handle a situation like this. But then the brunette puts her hand on Suguru’s shoulder and smiles, white teeth flashing, lips ruby red. Her friend with dyed blonde hair and a voluptuous chest begins to start playing with a lock of Suguru’s hair.

The hair that he had left down because you liked it down the most.

Everything’s changed, you think, making your way over. It’s not fair for Satoru to say it hasn’t. If it had been before you would’ve been fine. You would’ve quietly excused yourself and made yourself scarce. You would have encouraged it. You would have wanted them to be happy with a nice, normal girl. It was alright when it was just sex. They promised that that was all that it was. Just sex. A way all three of you could feel good. Mutually beneficial. But they had to kiss you, bring you to tears and then kiss those tears away.

Maybe if you give us a kiss first , Suguru would croon, underneath you, watching your heaving, desperate body with lidded eyes. Satoru’s nearly luminescent gaze hungrily trained on you as you struggled to form words.

They had to want more than you could give them.

When you get to your seat, conversation falls to a sudden silence. The two girls size you up, but you don’t pay them attention. You don’t bother to say anything. You grab a still seated Suguru by the middle of his shirt and pull him up into you for a long kiss.

You try to keep it chaste, but Suguru doesn’t let you, doesn’t want to. There’s a nip at your bottom lip, a demanding swipe of his tongue, but you refuse him entry. He’s smiling into your lips when you squeeze his shoulder, hard enough to hurt, and the two of you separate. He’s not even out of breath. Just so pleased with himself you wonder if he planned this, let some random girl touch his hair, touch him.

You tell yourself you don’t care.

You turn on your heel, leaving him with the bill.

It doesn’t even take him five minutes to catch up with you.

“Are you mad?” He asks, your jacket on his arm. “You forgot your jacket—”

“Suguru,” you say. “What do you want for your birthday?”

You can tell he hadn’t been expecting that, because he momentarily blinks. Then smiles. When Suguru is taken off guard, it’s difficult to tell. Because he always smiles, but there are tells in his expression. “Anything wou—”

“Shoko said I should get pregnant.” You leave out the part where she had been joking. “Is that what you want? You and Satoru? How many children?”

You’d be lying if you said you had never thought about it. Birth control was only so secure, and Satoru and Suguru liked it, finishing inside of you.

You wouldn’t be averse to it. Satoru would give you a girl. Suguru, a boy, and maybe another girl.

Suguru’s throat bobs, watching you. He thought you were joking. You’re not. “A couple,” he says slowly, gauging your face. “Girls,” he says, expression soft as he looks at you. “Satoru wants girls. A boy or two, so Megumi wouldn’t be alone.”

There’s a future here. It terrifies you so much. They want it, the both of them, this future you aren’t even sure you’ll be present for.

“Now,” you say, licking your lips. You won’t let him look away, not now. “Tell me what you want for your birthday.”

“You,” he breathes out. He looks sad. “All of you.”

“Okay,” you say simply. Quietly. You’d do anything for him. For Satoru and Shoko. You look down at the frost lined streets and let your breath mist in the chilly air. You wordlessly take your jacket from Suguru and put it on.

You press your face into his chest. His arms envelope you. He’s warm, and for a few seconds you listen to the steady rhythm of his heart.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You don’t mind if they hurt you. Never did. You look up at him. “I love you.”

His hands are surprisingly warm when he cups your face like you are the most precious thing in the world. But now you’ve made him sad. “I love you,” he says softly. “I love you so much.”

His words are undeniably true. He loves you. He and Satoru, in ways you never asked for. In ways that have brought them nothing but suffering. You don’t know if it’s worth it. You wonder if they regret it. You would’ve been forever content as a spectator.

In four days Satoru will be back home, right back in Suguru’s arms. He’ll kiss you greedily, all consuming, as if to make up for the lost time, and then the three of you will end up in the bedroom the three of you now permanently share, clothes strewn all over the room. Satoru will fuck you first if he hasn’t already had Suguru. Then Suguru. Then he will spread the rest of the night buried between your thighs, below you, on top of you, leaving his mark on your body, as if to make up for the lost time while Suguru takes your mouth. Then the two of them will fuck you together. You will cry, cling to them, and kiss them. Messy, cum swapping, consuming exchanges that swallow you whole. They will kiss you back to devour you, and only then will they be satisfied.

In the pale light of the morning, sometimes you press your ear to their chests, close your eyes, and listen. Like listening to the call of the ocean, the tides, in the opening of a conch. No two heartbeats are the same. Not even theirs.

But right now Suguru is not asleep. You close your eyes and dedicate yourself to memorization. In four days you will lie awake on Satoru’s chest, and listen to the heartbeat that makes him human.

Right now though, you think, this is enough, and you are content.

a/n:

-when i conceptualized this it was initially haha you get drunk and kiss geto. wouldn't that be cute. and then it turned into this. in an effort to defend myself i will say that the people wanted an established relationship!

-so i know this fic ends on a debbie downer mood but i swear they will talk about it. sometime later. maybe. rip!mc is just a lillll dumb so. she just needs space y'all (and maybe an apartment (to herself))) and we all know what boundaries mean to One Gojo Satoru. also yes geto can be a male manipulator at times. that's why we love him.

-yes rip!mc attempts to murder naoya yes she forgets about it right after. that's just how irrelevant he is. she probably saw a cat right after or smt idk.

-rip!mc still does not know stsg have been pining since hs. shoko is like you still haven't told her and geto is like. baby steps.

-nail in the coffin is a whisky cocktail made with japanese whisky. i thought it was hilariously ironic. also if ur a true shoko fan you should know she orders whisky cocktails in the light novel!!!

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader x geto suguru #m.jjk

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hardcandycigarette · 1 year

Text

Long Way Down Final-Part Five

Okay here it is. The Fifth and Final Part of a Long Way Down.

Warning- Language, discussions of suicide and depression.

Those triggers are not a major part of the story as far as the details but I do want you to know ahead of time if those subjects would cause you distress.

And you guys are getting all, the feels, the angst, and dad!rry as well as a few unexpected things

Aside from that I hope it meets your expectations.

Word Count 6.5K

While trying to process the words, Harry chokes back tears and feels his heart race. When the news finally registers that Y/N is safe and the search is over he leaps off the sofa and races down the hall. Relief pumps through every part of him as he runs toward the guest room. He's been so afraid of never seeing Y/N again. But now, she's coming home and his heart overflows with happiness. He knows that nothing could ever replace the love he feels for his Y/N - his prayers have been answered

Harry's shouts startle Liam as he crashes through the door. "They found her. They fuckin' found her." he yells as tears stream down his face.

Liam shakes his head and rubs his eyes as he sits on the edge of the bed. “Wha's that?” Liam asks in confusion, trying to make sense of the news. Suddenly, he realizes that they have found Y/N. He is both surprised and relieved. "They found her? Is she okay? Where is she?" He is happy to abandon his much needed nap when he hears the happy report.

“She’s in some small village in Scotland. They said she’s fine. I think she’s fine. I dunno, but we gotta go. Y/N's mum can stay here with the kids. We gotta go. Up. What ya’ just sitti’ there for? We need to hurry and get her."

"Let's go get out girl." Liam stands and slips on the jeans draped over the end of the bed. He walks over to the corner and picks up a sweatshirt from the floor and puts it on. “Well, what are you standing there for? Let's go. I'm ready."

Just as Harry steps into the hall, the door to the next room opens. "What's the matter, love? What's wrong?" Y/N's mother asks.

“They’ve found ‘er," he says.

“Oh please tell me she’s ok.”

He pauses, taking a deep breath before finally giving her the news. "She's alive," he says with relief. Harry nods and smiles. "She is. Well, that's what the detective told me."

“Thank God,” she says. She releases a long, deep sigh of relief, feeling the weight lifted off her shoulders.

“You’ll need to stay here with the kids. Liam and I are heading to get her.”

“Where is she?” she asks.

“Lil village in Scotland.”

“Scotland? What on earth for?” she asks.

Harry shrugs and dashes toward the stairs. "I've told ya all I know. We'll call you when we get there. Can you please talk to the kids when they get up from their naps? It'll just delay us if I wake them up now."

She nods, wiping away tears. "Yes, of course. Please hurry. Tell her I love her."

"'m callin' Jeff to get a plane ready," Harry calls out as he runs down the hall, and up the stairs. Once on the second floor he darts into the couple's bedroom. He grabs his phone and hits Jeff's contact. He demands they get a plane ready ASAP, so they can fly to Y/N.

As he speaks to Jeff he shoves on his sneakers, clips back his bangs, and brushes his teeth- all in a matter of a few minutes. As he scans the room, he wonders what Y/N might need. It appears from his discussion with the detective that she had all of her belongings with her. He says to himself, "You got me 100% from now on, baby." After emptying his Pleasing tote of its usual 40 tons of stuff he grabs some clothes, his keys, wallet and other essentials tossing it all in the bag as he heads down to the living room.

When he arrives downstairs, Liam is waiting for him. "I've called for a car. They should be here soon. Good thing everyone was on standby, otherwise this could've been a logistical nightmare," Liam says, emphasizing the urgency of the situation.

"No it wouldn't. Would've driven us m'self if I'd had to. Oh, Liam, man I've never felt better in m' life. Y/N's comin' home. 'm gonna love her like no man has ever loved a woman. She's gonna get sick of me I swear it." His anticipation causes him to jump up and down with excitement. His smile is wider than Liam has ever seen it.

###

Harry is so frantic to get to Y/N that he nearly shatters the glass of the sliding doors as he runs into the hospital. He is desperate to find his wife and unable to wait for the elevator to arrive he rushes up the stairs. As sweat dampens his forehead and an intense sense of urgency propels him forward.When he reaches the second floor he pulls the door open with force.

"I'm sorry sir this floor is closed. You'll have to take the elevator to the next floor," a police officer says to him.

"No, it's ok. She's m' wife the woman you all are protecting. Y/N Styles, she's m' wife." He repeats with growing resolution, "Y/N Styles is my wife and Detective Reeves knows I'm here."

Before Harry can proceed, Detective Reeves approaches him. "It's alright, he's the husband."

Harry stands tall and speaks firmly, "Yes, I've come to take her home."

The two officers nod. "Sorry, sir."

"It's alright, thanks for looking after her," Harry says.

"You can come this way, Mr. Styles." Reeves walks down a desolate hallway."Let's step into the waiting area," he says.

"Where is she? Wanna see Y/N. You said she's ok, right?" Harry adds with a hint of irritation in his voice.

In response, the detective motions towards a couch. "Please have a seat, Mr. Styles. I need to speak with you about your wife." Harry sits down, his patience wearing thin. He knows something is wrong and he needs answers.

"Where is she? Wanna see m' wife. What's happen'?" His voice quivers with worry. "Tell me, Detective. What's going on with my wife?" Is she okay?"

As he nods his head Reeves replies, "She is indeed, but I still need to speak with you before you see her."

Harry stands and paces the tiny room. "Tell me, ya worryin' me."

"I know you're anxious," Reeves continues, "but I need you to stay here for a few minutes so we can talk."

He throws his hands in the air and asks, "Why can't I see her?"

"I understand how you feel. I know you're eager," Reeves says calmly, "but I need you to trust me and stay here while we talk things through."

"Spit it out then."

"Sir, it appears your wife wasn't truly missing in the traditional sense. Do you remember when we first spoke, and I told you adults can leave without a trace, and it's perfectly acceptable?"

"Yeah. What do ya mean?" he asks. "What are ya sayin'?"

"I'm referring to a concept called voluntary disappearance. It's when an adult chooses to leave their current life behind and start a completely different one elsewhere. It's not a crime and it's not illegal. It's a personal decision to break ties and start anew."

'I don't understand what you are sayin' when you say start a new life. I am growing more and more impatient with you," Harry says.

"Once the doctors give you the okay, I'll let you talk to your wife about it in depth, but it seems that she really did leave you. It seems she wasn't happy and didn't want to be there anymore. It was determined after lengthy discussions with myself, my partner and the medical staff that she had personal reasons for leaving. As for the details, you'll need to speak with your wife."

"Details? Details like what? You know what? Fuck you Reeves." He points his finger at the man, then places his hands in the pockets of his sweats as he clinches his jaw. "Lemme see m' wife. 'm not playin' this game with ya', dancin' round the subject, tryin' to be cryptic. Where is she?"

"I am simply trying to let you know what our investigation has uncovered. You are welcome to see your wife, but it might be beneficial for you to understand the full scope of the situation before you enter the room."

"Go on then, tell me how ya know m' wife so much better than me," Harry says.

"You see your wife seems to be very unhappy. She suffers quite a lot. The woman in that room is much different from the wife I suspect you've known all these years."

Harry steps toward the door. "Where are the doctors? You aren't telling me shit. And how did she even end up here?"

"Said she took a bus, then rideshare to the old lady's house." The detective shrugs. She can explain where she left the car and all that when you talk to her." Reeves walks to the door and opens it. "I'll get the doctor. Please just wait here."

"Sure, whatever." Harry waves his hand.

The detective steps out, but returns within a minute or two, followed by a small woman in a white jacket.

She enters the room and extends her hand and nods. "Thank you for speaking with me, sir." Harry shakes her hand. "I'm Dr. Thomas. I've been here with your wife since she came in last night. I think there are some things you need to know before you go in, but there are also things you need to hear directly from your wife." She wants to make sure Harry is prepared to support her.

"Are you gonna dance as well? Jesus need to take you two on tour with me for all the dancing around you do."

"Sir, let's have a seat." The doctor motions toward the same sofa.

"'m tired of bein' asked to have a seat." But Harry does as the doctor asks, and sits.

She sits next to him, straightening her coat. "Mr. Styles, your wife overdosed. She said that the depression and anguish, as she described it, had become too much for her to continue. I'm so sorry," the doctor said softly, "but now we must focus on helping her through this difficult time. These maladies affect everyone differently, so what depression might look like for you or for me, looks different for her. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah. Yeah, course I understand everyone's experience is different. But depression? Anguish? Where is all of this comin' from? She never let on. How could I have known she was sufferin'?" Harry stands.

"Your wife is suffering from a major depressive episode. It's not unusual for women in her situation to experience this."

"Her situation?"

"Yes, but that's something you'll need to discuss with your wife."

"This is ridiculous. Say what you've got to say or le' me to speak to 'er." Harry walks to the door and opens it.

The doctor follows him. "Mr. Styles, she's very fragile," the doctor says apologetically, "and I must stress that it is essential that you handle her with care."

"When can I take her home?" he asks.

"My advice would be to transfer her to a psychiatric hospital. I know that you have the choice of any facility you wish, so that should be left up to you. I think the transfer would be appropriate sometime tomorrow if she remains stable through tonight."

"Okay." He steps into the hall. "Thank you, doctor. I appreciate what you've done for my wife. I'll see to it we get her in the right place. I'll have her therapist and doctor coordinate with you once we determine where we are taking her. Can I see her now?"

"Yes." The doctor and detective step into the hall, and walk a few doors down, and Harry follows. "I'll be here the rest of the evening if you have any questions. Just have one of the nurses contact me." She and Harry shake hands before she walks away.

"Mr. Styles, our work here is complete, so we are going to make our way back to London. You know how to reach me. While the circumstances aren't ideal I'm happy we found her, and that she's safe. Don't be too harsh on yourself. These things happen."

Harry has the impulse to hug the man but stops and settles for a handshake. "Thank you. Thank you so very much for all you've done."

"Not at all sir. All in a day's work isn't it?"

"I suppose. Thank you." Harry nods.

"Good luck, Mr. Styles." He walks away.

"Harry, just call me Harry."

"Alright Harry. Goodnight."

Harry is excited, but apprehensive about seeing his wife. He looks down the hall and sees Liam talking with officers guarding the stairwell.

He taps on the door. There is no response, but he pushes the heavy door open.

Y/N lays in the bed staring out of the window.

"Hi, Angel. It's Harry, love." His voice is soft and steady as he slowly walks toward the bed.

As he sits in a chair next to her, he sees in her profile that she is awake. As he takes her hand, he whispers, "Love, it's me.". "Missed you. Had me going crazy wonderin' if I would ever see you again.". He brushes her hair away from her face. "I love you."

She remains silent, moves around, but still won't look at him.

"Y/N I don't know what's wrong baby. I know things are rough at home, but we'll fix them. No, I'll fix them. We don't want you to leave us ever again. I'll do anything you want." He starts to cry. "I'm here for you," he promises, his voice breaking. "We'll get through this together, whatever it takes."

Y/N doesn't respond.

"Tell me what you want, I'll do it. We've built so much together, a beautiful family. I thought we were happy, baby. I'm so sorry."

When she turns to him she avoids eye contact."I don't love you."

"How can you say that?" he asks, his voice trembling with emotion .

"You can go now. I told them not to call you." Her voice is cold and dry.

He stares in disbelief, his world crumbling around him. He shakes his head. She has just spoken words he would've never predicted. He can't believe that she is so callous and that she has given up on them without even trying to work things out. With his free hand he pours a cup of water from a small pink pitcher and offers it to her. "Here, have some water. Your throat is dry."

She doesn't accept the water. Even before he came home from his tour, she realized that the connection they once had was missing. She couldn't pinpoint when she fell out of love, but it had been a while. It was time for them to separate so that she could move on and find true happiness. He deserved happiness too, and she wanted him to find it. He was a very decent man, but he just wasn't the man for her. Not anymore."

He shakes his head. "No, baby, no, that's your depression talking. We're gonna get you some help,yeah?" He rubs her hair.

"Stop it." She swats his hand away.

He removes his hand from her. "Sorry, love. It might take you some time to feel better, but I'm home and I'll look after the kids. You can have all the time you need. We'll find the finest place in the world, anywhere, and you go and take care of yourself." He tries to hand her the cup of water again.

She shakes her head. "No, I'm not thirsty."

"Baby, your voice is dry. You need to drink something."

She pushes the water away. She tries to be polite as possible, and she removes her hand from his while saying, "Please Harry, please don't make me be rude. I'm trying to be decent here. Just leave."

He stands, placing the cup on the tray. "Decent? Is that what this is? Desert your babies? Disappear without a trace knowing we were lookin' for ya? I'm here Y/N. I'm waiting for you to let me help ya', but just like the day ya left I'm lost. I don't know what to do." He sniffles as he tries to stop crying , and focus on her, and what she is saying.

She returns her gaze to the window. "Leave. That's what you can do. I'll get the help I need, but I still don't want to be married to you. As for the kids we'll figure it out, but honestly I just need to be by myself. I don't want to wait for anyone to come home, or change a diaper. I can't take the pressure anymore."

"But ya don't have to baby. I'm home now, got all the help you could want."

"Is that what you've been doing since you've been home? Helping?"

"I know I haven't been perfect, but I swear I'll try. Please at least give me the chance."

"Leave, Harry."

"No."

"Harry there's someone else." She looks down at her lap. "Is that better? Someone who doesn't make me feel like a maid or just a fuck toy."

Harry punches the wall. "No!" He grabs his hand, shaking away the pain. "You brought another man into our home, our bed?"

"No. I didn't have sex with him. But Harry, he makes me feel heard and seen. That's something we haven't had for a long time. I want a divorce. Is he the man I'll be with?" She shrugs. "I don't know, but he made me realize there is someone out there who can appreciate me as a complete woman and not just the parts that serve him."

"No, Y/N. You're not getting off that easy. You don't get to just walk away from nearly a decade at the flick of a wrist. You don't just get to leave and not give it a chance, not talk to me about how you're feelin." He wipes his face, then rubs his hurt hand.

"I'm trapped then, aren't I? Have to just keep my mouth shut and act happy. I can't Harry. I've tried and I just can't do it anymore."

"What are you talking about Y/N?" Harry walks back over and tries to hold her hand again.

"I'm a mum and a wife, your wife of all people and I'm not happy." With a shake of her head, she frees her hand from him.

"We'll work on it. I promise." He looks into her eyes, his voice firm but compassionate as he adds, "I need you to believe that I'm worth the effort."

"No matter how much we work on it, I simply don't get to be me. I'm still only a wife, your wife no less and a mother. That's all I am. It's a bitter reminder that, while I'm capable of so much more, I'm still often defined by my roles within our relationship." She closes her eyes holding back tears as she bites her lip.

"No. No, love, you're everything, that's what you are. You are a beautiful and powerful force in this world. You bring light and hope wherever you go, and nothing can stop that."

She rolls her eyes and sighs, fidgeting in bed until she finally sits up. "Harry please leave. You know I'm fine now. I'll get some help finding a place to transfer to, but please let me be. It's okay to stop loving someone. You don't get to be mad at me because of the way I feel."

He shakes his head and walks back and forth. "You know Y/N you are really a piece of work. I felt sorry for ya when they told me 'bout the shape you were in. I really did, but I see now you're just selfish." He looks at the door to check that no one is coming in. "You're bein' a coward," gritting his teeth he points at her, "not taking responsibility for your actions. You're bein' selfish."

"Oh," she says in a voice louder than she intended. She lowers her volume. "You have to be kidding, Harry. That must be a joke. Me?" She presses her hands to her chest. "I'm selfish?"

"Yeah, Y/N tha's what I said. Selfish."

"That's not true!" she declares, her voice indignant. "I'm not selfish!"

"Then what is Y/N? What are you? Those kids need their mum!" Harry shouts this time.

Y/N drops her voice. "No more than they've needed a father."

A twisted expression appears on Harry's face. "Is that what this is about? Tryin' to teach me a lesson at the expense of the kids?"

"Quit being so fucking narcissistic Harry, everything in the world isn't about you! Don't you get enough attention already? This isn't about teaching you anything."

He steps toward the bed. "Oh really? Well, Lola, you remember her, the littlest one? Big beautiful eyes, chubby cheeks, you remember her don't ya? Been sick since you left. Archer, the oldest one, gorgeous boy, ya remember him? Well he busted his foot. No to mention ya leave the whole of the world lookin' for ya." Harry chuckles as he tugs at his lip. "You can't take it anymore. Bullshit. That's what it is. How about your mum and sisters? All of our friends? You've had lots of people outta their minds Y/N"

"You think I don't know the trouble I've caused?" She asks her voice rising with each word. "You think I don't care about the kids? Well, I do! That's why I left."

"Leavin' 'ems not helpin' 'em is it? Wonderin' where their mum has gone, leavin' me to make up lies, promisin' you'll be back." Harry kicks the bed.

The door opens, a young male nurse interrupts. "Alright in here?"

"Yes," Y/N replies.

"Are you sure?" the nurse asks.

"I'm sure." She nods.

"If your visitor is upsetting you I'm sure we can have the officers remove him." The nurse looks Harry up and down.

"No, I'm fine. Thank you," Y/N says.

"I'll be right outside if you need me." He closes the door.

"It's not about you or the kids, or anyone else. Don't you see that? It's about me. It's about what I want." She stands.

"Marriage doesn't work that way, and building a life together doesn't work that way." Harry reduces the space between them, stepping toward her.

She looks at the floor, then at Harry. "Marriage is about two people and if one person is only focused on themselves, then the marriage is not going to work. This marriage is about you, and I'm not angry anymore. You can't help who you are and I can't help how I feel."

Harry grips her shoulders, leaning down to look her in the eye. "I'm sorry," he whispers. "I don't know how to make it work, but I promise I'll try."

"Harry, you can't fix it. I've fallen out of love with you." Tears fill her eyes. "Do you think it makes me happy to make you upset? Of course not. I love you, but I'm not in love with you." She speaks the words that are the kiss of death to anyone on the receiving end. "That's why I took the pills."

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "What do you mean?"

"Death would be easier than leaving. I'd rather be dead than hurt you or the kids. I wish that old lady had let me be." She sighs heavily, looking away.

Harry kneels, grabs her legs and hides his face in her thighs as he pleads with her. "Don't say that. Never, ever, ever say that again." He sobs at the mere mention of her harming himself. "I know you're in pain," he whispers while rubbing the back of her legs. "But I need you to understand that no matter what, I'm here for you. We can get through this together."

She touches his shoulder. "Don't feel obligated to say what you think I want to hear."

"'m not, swear it love. I'd give up everything just to see you smile again. If that means splitting up, then I'll accept it. Walking away from my career, I'll do it. You hold all the cards love."

"Let's be serious Harry you're never leaving your career."

"But I'm willing to make this sacrifice for us," Harry said, determined to make his point clear. "I would. If that's what you want I won't fight you. I'll post on Instagram or Twitter or whatever, and announce m' retirement." He looks up at her. His eyes are full of dedication, sadness, and desperation.

She shakes her head and looks at the ceiling. "No. I don't know why I can't just let it all go," she whispers. "But it's like my heart won't let me. I don't even know how to love you anymore."

"Go, Harry."

"But would you at least discuss it with a therapist before we make a final decision? Please."

"Harry, please go home. Please tell the children I love them, and I will see them soon." Out of habit she rubs his thick, dark curls, holding him to her for just a moment. Tears roll down her face. "Please go."

He releases himself from her and stands. He takes her face in his hands, scanning her eyes for a glimpse of the old Y/N but she's not there. After placing a kiss on her forehead, he says in a soft, gentle voice. "I love you Y/N. I always will. Nothing you can do will change that. I will never give up on us, never." He's determined to be there for her.

With a trembling lip, she steps back and gives him a final nod of her head, her heart aching as she watches her husband walk away.

At the door he turns to her. "Meant what I said. Anything in the world to make ya stay, to work this out."

She nods. "Sure," she says.

"Speak with your doctors, and once you decide on a place I'll make sure it's paid for, but please let's at least talk about it again when you're feelin' better."

####

It's been two months since Harry rushed to Scotland to see his wife. It has been two months since she left, saying she no longer loved him. For the last month they have worked with their therapist to try and fix what's broken. Y/N lives in an apartment they own on the other side of the city. The kids remain with Harry. For the first few weeks Anne stayed with Harry to help, but since then he's been on his own with the children. They don't fully understand why their Mummy doesn't live with them. When she sees them it is difficult when Harry takes them back home for both Y/N and the children. There are always sobs in the car as Harry drives them home, buying their contentment with ice cream and toys and amusement parks. However, he know that isn't a sustainable way for them to cope.

With the help of a child psychologist they are adjusting a bit. But the transition is difficult for everyone and their wounds remain deep .Each day is a little bit easier. He works his schedule around theirs, and makes certain he is available to them at any time. He leaves Lola with a trusted friend or Gemma when he can't take her with him. That's usually only for therapy appointments with Y/N. During the day the two older children are in school so his only immediate concern is Lola. He has put all his plans on hold. He's even asked Jeff not to call for the time being. Jeff is one of his best friends, but Harry also knows it's all business in the end. He can't let anything distract him. The three shows in Manchester are around the corner. He's decided to stay with his mum so she can help with the kids while he rehearses and puts the final touches on the show.

####

Manchester Night Three

Harry is near the end of his final night in Manchester when he walks to the mic stand.

"Thank you everyone for welcoming me home. As most of you know I grew up not too far from here, and it's always a pleasure coming home. It's been an honor returning to Manchester and getting the chance to perform for all of you these three nights."

The crowd erupts into cheers and barking. Harry gives them a moment before he continues. In spite of the noise of the crowd, he speaks, "Thank you so much for everything, but the evening isn't quite over yet! I have something very special and unexpected for all of you."

Harry and the band have had a tremendous impact on people, as evidenced by the crowd's enthusiasm and appreciation. The cheering and applause are not only a sign of gratitude and admiration, but they also serve as a reminder of the show's success. A clear indication of the joy it has brought to countless people.

"Thank you." Harry chokes back tears, pausing for a moment as he looks at the ground. He clears his throat and continues. "Throughout our show's run, we have had the opportunity to share our message of joy and positivity with people from all walks of life. We are overwhelmed by the amount of support we have received and we are truly thankful for the encouragement and love we have been shown." He stops and looks around, taking it all in, the enormous stadium filled with people who love him, but there is one person missing, the only person that matters. "There should be glow stick necklaces in your seats. I see many of you have them already. Please make sure that you all wear them for the last few songs. Come on then, I want this room to look like a sea of stars. I usually end the show with Kiwi, but tonight we have changed up the setlist. I hope you'll like what I've got in store for you." A cheer breaks out. Harry walks to the other side of the stage.

"But before I do that, I want to share a few things with you." He looks back at the band, giving a half-smile. "I rarely talk about my personal life or business endeavors, but tonight I would like to share a bit of that with you. My contract will end after tonight's last song."

A few in the crowd murmur, mumble, cheer or shout, but most of the fans are quiet as they await his next words. Some are predicting a surprise release of his next album tonight.

"But this time I didn't renew that contract. No one, not even my wife knows that. Instead, I'm taking a break to spend some quality time with my family and reflect on the past as well as consider my next steps, whatever they may be." The stadium falls silent as he continues. However, some decide to boo Harry during such a vulnerable moment.

"I know, and believe me I'm sorry to say that, but it's important you hear it from me, and not the press or social media gossip. As most of you know I have a beautiful family, and I love them more than words, even mine can describe. They are true treasures. A pair of beautiful, sweet, and amazing daughters, as well as a handsome and gifted son. But there's one person who doesn't get the credit they deserve and that's my wife. She truly is a Sweet Creature. Everything that is good and happy in my life stems from that woman. She has been with me for almost 10 years, and that alone makes her a saint." Harry holds back tears as his voice cracks. "While I have been traveling the world doing what I love, she has been at home with our family. However, somewhere along the way I forgot how difficult it must be for her. She always shared me with you without reserve or hesitation. She inspired some of you favorite songs. I also realized just how much I'd missed with my kids. And for those reasons I am embarking on a long hiatus."

The jumbotron catches women and girls sobbing, some holding their hands to their hearts praising him for being such a wonderful husband. His gesture of love and dedication resonates with many, as evidenced by the reactions of the crowd.

"And I hope during that time you don't forget me, and that you love the music I come back with, but I want to take some time to be with my family and hopefully grow as a person as well as an artist. Now, my kids are backstage, and if you're good I might invite them out at the end of the show. " Everyone screams and yells.

"The songs I'm about to play have meant a lot to me recently. After looking through the catalogue of songs I've written or just sang over the years, some really stuck out as very significant right now. So, if you'll be patient for one more moment I'd like to ask some special people to join me on the stage."

As a customized riser comes from beneath the stage, four silhouettes can be seen. The roar and stomping that comes from the crowd can probably be heard in Liverpool.

"I think some of you might recognize these guys, but just in case I'll let them introduce themselves." The crowd begins to quiet down. The stage lights shine down on the four men as they turn toward the crowd.

"I'm Niall." The crowd cheers.

"I'm Zayn." The crowd only grows louder.

"Hey everyone, it's Liam" And the cheers continue to grow.

And finally. "I'm Louis."

The stadium is so loud that the guys can't talk to one another so they just smile and wave at the crowd. The atmosphere is electric, like a thunderstorm that has been brewing for days and is finally ready to unleash its power.

Harry laughs into the mic. "Weren't expecting that were you?" His quip elicits a roar of laughter from the audience, further encouraging their enthusiasm. Everyone seems on the verge of hysteria.

So I'd like to start off with a song that has really hit home for me lately. This one is called "Long Way Down."

Niall begins,

We made a fire Went down in the flames We sailed an ocean And drowned in a wave Built a cathedral But we never prayed We had it all, yeah And we walked away

Harry belts out his iconic, soulful lyrics

Point of no return And now it's just too late to turn around I try to forgive you, But I struggle 'cause I don't know how We built it up so high and now I'm fallin' It's a long way down It's a long way down from here

The voices of the stadium singing along all but drowned out the boys completely. The song continues with all of the boys singing their parts with absolute perfection.

"Now, this next one's even further back in the catalogue, and it's called Infinity," Louis says. Music emanating from the stage even further excites the fans, as the boys grin with joy at being together and sharing a stage with each other. Once again they are in complete harmony as though it had been days and not years since they sang together.

"And I think the fellas got one more left in 'em. Do ya guys?" Harry asks with his signature smile.

They agree.

"This one has been on my mind as I made these recent decisions about my career. Y/N I hope you're listening. "If I could fly". Harry begins.

If I could fly I'd be coming right back home to you I think I might Give up everything, just ask me to

The song is as beautiful as it was the first time the crowd heard it so many years ago. After the final note. Each of the boys nod, and say thank you. The five gather at the center of the stage and engage in a long, tearful embrace. The entire crowd is crying and cheering. Eventually the boys wave and say goodbye one last time before exiting.

"Thank you so much, guys, and to you our fans thank you for loving and supporting us as individual artists since we played as One Direction. I think I speak for all of us, when I say we are immensely grateful for each and everyone of you." The fans cheer and shout.

"Okay. So I promised if you were good I'd let you see my adorable bubs. I think my mum has them backstage. Sarah, would you mind going back and helping bring the babies in?"

Sarah nods, steps away from her drum kit and walks backstage. Harry entertains the crowd by reading signs. Soon everyone is indicating to Harry that there is activity behind him. When he turns around Sarah has Poppy by her hand, and Archer walks ahead of them. "Where's my Lola?" he asks Sarah.

"She's coming."

"What? She can't even walk without help." Harry laughs.

He turns back to the crowd, "Okay baby Styles is somewhere."

He leans down to Poppy. "Can you tell my friends your name?"

"Poppy." She grabs the hem of her lace dress and tucks her face into Harry's chest. The crowd ooh and awws.

Archer pats his dad's leg. "My turn."

"I think he's gonna be the performer in the bunch."

Harry squats as he asks, "And what's your name?"

"Archer, and I busted my foot, but it's better."

The audience laughs hysterically. Suddenly, they scream almost as loudly as they did for the One Direction guys. Harry turns around to see Y/N carrying Lola.

He mouths "What are you doing here?"

She smiles and shrugs. He extends his arms to take Lola. "And this little bit is Lola." He kisses the baby, then gives Y/N a peck on the cheek, not wanting to step across the boundaries they've set for the time being. He puts his arm around Y/N's waist. "And this is Y/N. She's everything I could ever ask for in a wife. She's the only reason I'm still doing this for you, but now it's her turn." He points to the kids. "And their turn. Like I said I hope you don't forget me and are still here when I come back. I don't know how long that will be, but no matter how long it is I'll never forget any of you, or any of this. I love you all. Thank you so much. And with that I'd like to ask the band to join me for a wave and bow."

The band walks forward and in a line they put their arms around one another, some smiling, some crying as they take the final bow.

###

Backstage.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asks Y/N.

"Your mum told me there was something I really needed to be here for."

"Does this mean?"

She shakes her head. "Not yet Harry, and I don't know if or when it will be, but tonight was a start."

She hugs him and kisses him on the cheek.

"That's all I need, some hope, at least a start."

"Okay." She nods and takes his hand. "A start."

#harry styles x y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fan fic #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #dad!rry

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diaryujin · 6 months

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𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐓

summary: this is the first christmas you’re spending without minho. obviously, everything feels different now, and you’re just so lost without him – the person who’s been there for everything. what you didn’t know was that, however, he was still here.

includes: death, car accidents, drunk driving, depression-like state, suicidal thoughts, ghosts, this is set during the night between 25th-26th, crying, Changbin, Hyunjin, Han, Felix, Yeji, Lia and Ryujin (of ITZY) are your friends, hospitals, wounds, scars, lmk if i missed anything!

pairing: ghost! bf! minho x human! fem! Reader

word count: 1.7K

taglist: @kflixnet

You sat on the couch in your living room. Most of the lights are off, save for one. You didn’t want to bother with making it all ‘cheery’ and ‘bright’ as you were on this day year after year after year. “Your surroundings are a reflection of yourself” is a quote you had heard before, and it probably held true. You didn’t feel any joy inside, and you didn’t have to put on a facade that said otherwise to anyone, so there was no point.

You had made a decision to spend this Christmas alone. Weighing down your family and friends with your sorrow was an ass move, and you wanted them to be happy, to celebrate like they did every year. It was nearly midnight – at this time, people would be asleep, or still up with their families, or at parties, or out on trips with friends or something else that they enjoyed. Very few would be distressed or sad right now.

You, unfortunately, were part of that few.

You hadn’t been able to sleep normally ever since exactly last year, so to be fair, it wasn’t just you being a Grinch. This day was nothing special, you were just following old patterns. It was also around this time 365 days ago that you lost him, your Minho.

You both were returning home after a gathering with your friends, Changbin, Hyunjin, Jisung, Yongbok, Yeji, Jisu, and Ryujin. It was a cheerful night. A lot of laughs and food was shared, and you were sure that nothing could ruin the high spirits you were in, which only seemed to heighten as Minho drove the car and you sat in the passenger seat beside him. He was taunting you over a stupid joke you made in the get-together, and you were laughing at him.

Everything was perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

A drunk driver had crashed violently into your car, knocking you out. You remembered nothing that your lover had said before you blacked out, except for a faint ‘I love you’. You woke up in the hospital, your parents next to your bed, sobbing. Shortly after, Hyunjin and Yeji, the only two available after the gathering since the others were unable to be contacted, rushed into your room as soon as they were allowed in. It took you a few days for you to get rid of the daze you were in since the accident. When you were better than before, the first thing you asked had gotten you a frown from your friends, who visited regularly, and a sigh from your parents.

“Where’s Minho?”

They all looked at each other before Jisung took in a deep breath with slightly watery eyes.

“He’s…He’s not here.”

“Why? Is he okay? Were his injuries worse than mine?”

At your words, Jisung held back a little sob and turned around to bury his face in Yongbok’s shoulder, unable to answer you. Jisu glanced around, and after seeing that no one else was ready to speak, opened her mouth.

“He’s in a better place, Y/N.”

“What do you…you’re not serious.”

Your eyes widened and flitted between everyone’s faces, before setting on Jisu’s again, hoping that this was some kind of sick joke. When there was just emotion and pity in them, you turned your head slowly to look down at your hands, which were unconsciously gripping your blanket. You seemed frozen, but a million thoughts were bouncing around in your head, spinning, spinning, but never quite settling. So many emotions swum around, it was causing your head to hurt. You blinked rapidly, breathing heavily through your mouth.

Minho – gone.

An overwhelming surge of exhaustion enveloped you suddenly, and you let your eyes close before falling back onto your pillow, succumbing to your tiredness.

Dori leapt into your lap, nestling there. Even with the heating on, cats who were all close by, and you in Minho’s prized hoodie, you didn’t feel warm. It was cold, so cold, being so alone without your favorite person. You had healed somehow, although a small scar above your eyebrow would stay to cruelly remind you of the day you lost everything every time you looked in the mirror.

Your body might’ve recovered, but your heart wouldn’t. It wouldn’t allow itself to.

“Dead on the spot.”

You didn’t even get to say goodbye properly.

The only consolation you had was that the last time you saw him, there was a bright smile on his face and that it wasn’t him being alone like you were. You’d never want him to feel any pain, and you would choose you being left alone and for him to move on than him suffering without you.

Even though sometimes you wished you died as well so that you could possibly still be with him since there was no chance of him coming back.

Dori purred, and you snapped out of your reverie. You started stroking the cat’s back, smiling weakly to yourself at the living reminder of him. You scratched the back of his head, and suddenly your head was filled with memories you treasured. You held onto them dearly like they were your lifeline – which, in hindsight, they were. They were what kept you going in moments when you felt so empty.

Tears escaped your eyes and streaked down your cheeks. They plopped onto Dori’s fur, making it slightly damp. You didn’t bother to wipe them, since you didn’t want to get cat hair into your eyes, and it would be more efficient for you to just get up later and wash your face as you could expect more of them throughout the night. Small sniffles came from your nose, and you cleared your throat when it felt too dry.

It was in this situation that Minho phased in.

You felt a cold rush of air that moved your curtains, and you looked around to see what might have caused it, since your windows were shut because you had the heater on and to block out the sounds of Christmas carols. After seeing nothing, you focused on the cat in your lap, stroking its coat rhythmically as you got lost in your head.

Minho glanced down at himself, and sure enough, he was a ghost. He couldn’t be seen in any mirror or by any human, but some animals could. He hoped his cats would be counted in that ‘some’ because he really missed them – they were his babies, after all.

Not as much as he missed you though.

He took in your form, and his eyes widened as he noticed how different you were since he last saw you. You looked more tired with slight eyebags. He couldn’t pinpoint anything else, but you had definitely changed for the worse. His heart – not that he had a proper one – hurt seeing you like this, and he slightly felt guilty for causing you to be like this and for not being there to comfort you.

He went over to you, his steps noiseless. Soonie’s ears perked up and he turned to look at his late owner, before jumping onto his paws. Doonie seemed to notice the ghost too, and mewed. He smiled at his cats, squatting to get on their level. He patted their heads, before getting up again to sit next to you. The couch didn’t shift, so you had no idea he was there.

He placed his hand on top of yours, sighing.

“Y/N. You may not see me, but I’m here. Isn’t that- great?”

There was no response on your end, which was expected, but Minho was overjoyed to be with you again and didn’t give a shit.

“I’m sorry for leaving you without saying a proper goodbye. Lord, you look terrible. You’re struggling, and it’s all my fault. I should have been there for you, I should have- and yet I wasn’t. I’d do anything to trade places with you, you know? Even if that included going through the accident over and over, just so that you could be the one that passed and I could have stayed.”

Almost immediately after he said that, you broke down. You covered your eyes with your arms, the tears soaking Minho’s hoodie. You let yourself heave out pained sobs which you had been holding back until now, because how long could you hold it in?

His eyes widened, and he wrapped his arms around you. The three cats mewed again as you felt a breeze around your body again – however, this one was warm, truly warm. You calmed down a little, sobs reducing to small whimpers. He looked down at you, face filled with concern, before cupping your cheek. He scanned your face and realized that you looked worse now than when he was alive to see you cry in real-time.

He frowned upon noticing your scars. He then leaned down to kiss them all one by one, his lips moving gently as if you were a fragile thing that could easily break. Once he was done with that, he pecked your right cheek, then the left one, before going up to your forehead and planting a lingering one there. His eyes darted to your lips, aching to feel them one more time, but he just leaned back. He wouldn’t be able to feel their usual warmth, which was what made them so comfortable and loving, and he didn’t want to claim you – he was yours and always would be, but you were no longer his. It would take you time to move on, he knew that, but eventually you would, and doing this felt like he was holding you back.

Not that you knew, but you did feel the same warmth on your face which was oddly familiar.

He got off the couch, knowing his time was nearly up. He kissed the cats’ heads, saying his goodbyes to them, before moving back to the spot where he spawned from. He waved at you, blowing the curtains again, which startled you.

“Merry Christmas, my love. I’ll see if I can come back next year.”

With that, he disappeared, causing Doonie to run over and swat the area where he previously was, and to mewl in frustration as nothing happened.

“Doonie, come back here. There’s no one there.”

It didn’t matter, because strangely enough, you were feeling a bit better than before, as if some of your strength had returned. You suddenly felt drowsy, and yawned, before lying down on the couch. You felt cozy now, which was confusing yet comfortable. “Must be the magic of a Christmas spirit.”

a/n: btw the drunk driver survived and got bailed out yikes

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not-poignant · 2 months

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Im really sorry if this is too personal please ignore me if it is but i saw your post just at the right time and im just, im struggling in my twenties at the thought of possibly having did right now. And you say you "used to", can i ask how you healed?

A lot of therapy, anon.

It does tend to show up in someone's 20s, and I went the path of Internal Family Systems Therapy (also known as IFS or IFST) which is extremely useful alongside the three C's (Compassion, Communication, Co-Consciousness).

I wasn't aiming to eliminate any alters, and anyone who wanted to stay as a separate alter could, but I taught myself through the help of other/s to be self-compassionate, to open up opportunities and methods for communication (which also included art, writing, journalling, etc. in fact the very first tumblr that 'I' ever made was actually made by an alter, and was originally called artforartists - it's now renamed and run by 'me' because Dani has absorbed back into the system, but you can still go to the earliest entries and see her in them.

It took a few years and I didn't rush things. The main thing to know is that while it feels extreme, it usually comes about as a reasonable response to an unreasonable situation, and it usually becomes very manageable with self-compassion (to all yourselves), impartial judgement, open communication, compromise (i.e. if you have an alter that wants to play video games 24/7 to the point that you're losing weeks of memory, find out small areas of compromise where they can be given something in exchange for something), and sharing consciousness where possible (co-consciousness).

It's very scary at first but imho for me personally, it has been the 'easiest' of all of my diagnosed disorders to deal with. I still have severe treatment-resistant depression and I still have severe treatment-resistant PTSD/C-PTSD, but my DID went into remission after about 4 targeted years of therapy. It's now DDNOS (Dissociative Disorder Not Otherwise Specified) which means I don't have the symptoms enough to qualify for DID anymore, but I still have a system prone to dissociation / derealisation / depersonalisation and I have days where some alters are fronting a bit more than the central self, but I usually just use it as a sign that I'm really stressed and overwhelmed, rather than a sign that there's something wrong with me.

I'm extremely zen about it, tbh. And look, I didn't have the goal of 'absorbing' my alters (or them dying or w/e), I didn't set out with the idea of getting rid of it so much as learning how to live with different people who have different opinions about things in my head. But through the course of IFST and giving everyone a voice, that started to happen anyway. Healing doesn't always mean 'getting rid of alters' it mostly just means getting a handle on the memory loss (which is the most severe part of the disorder for me) and the polarisation so that it becomes regular dissonance and not so distressing it causes someone to switch. A person can be fully healed from DID and still have alters that front, if there's co-consciousness and communication for example. This was actually what I was aiming for, it just didn't end up being my outcome.

You may not be able to access therapy or IFST, and it can be hard to find DID-friendly therapists who know what they're doing, but you can actually look up and explore IFST on places like Instagram and in books like No Bad Parts and start doing the work gently already. (IFST isn't just or only for DID patients, but it is uniquely very well suited to them).

It can be very scary at first, anon, to think you might have this. Because it's a highly stigmatised and misunderstood disorder. At its root it can be understood as 'a child who didn't understand how to cope with something, at the time of personality formation, just developed a new personality to deal with it. But as a result of this, their brain got so good at developing new personalities that it became a maladapted coping strategy, and as an adult they can learn ways to cope that aren't splitting, switching, or losing memory with compassion and self-understanding.'

And honestly we all have a lot of maladapted coping mechanisms and the whole journey of life is learning to unpack them, and repack some healthier coping mechanisms into the lunchbox. And that's really about it. Still very scary and upsetting to go through, but also not a mysterious, "insane" thing. <3333 If you can reach out for help, please consider it, but otherwise do look into IFST. I started working on those strategies long before I found a suitable therapist and I honestly feel like just the mindset of radical self-acceptance and self-compromise and self-compassion was - while extremely hard to do often - the key for me, and some of those things will at the very least be helpful for you.

#asks and answers #personal #there's a lot more resources now for DID than their used to be #but there's also a lot more self-exploitation for likes and clout #just admitting you're worried something dissociative might be going on #is very brave and you're already on the path to healing anon #even though it doesn't feel like it yet

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emotionallychargedtowel · 1 year

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The Eighth Sense e5 & e6: portraying trauma with nuance

Episodes 5 and 6 of The Eighth Sense have really blown up a discourse bomb in tumblr’s BL scene. I had been putting off watching these episodes because I had gathered that episode 6 ended with something pretty distressing, and stuff like that sometimes hits me pretty hard, especially when it’s left as a cliffhanger. But I was already tempted to rip off the band-aid and watch it anyway, and then everyone has been debating aspects of these episodes. So I just had to see what all the discussion was about and figure out my own take on it.

In case it’s not obvious, the following will have spoilers for the series up to and including episode 6. I have a lot to say about this, because it touches on subjects that have been a major focus for me in my personal life, in my previous work as a trainee therapist, and in my research and writing. But I want this to be a manageable read, so I’m going to put things in bullet form when I can to keep them brief and organized and I’m going to make some section headings to help with skimming or skipping around. But before I launch into the rest, there’s one thing I should get out of the way: I don’t think any part of episodes 5 or 6 are a hallucination, a dream, or otherwise did not occur. I do think that there are aspects of the way the show portrays certain things that indicate dissociation and/or an acute trauma response. I’ll talk more about that below. (Hey, @waitmyturtles, this is the epic TES post I’ve been writing off and on for two days! I hope it’s of interest.)

Here are the section headings I’ll use below, to give a sense of what I’m going to talk about:

Conceptualizing Jae Won: Or, what I think is happening with him

Jae Won’s therapist - comments and interpretations

Jae Won’s therapist - medication management

Human beings’ amazing capacity for self-blame

Interpreting show production choices psychologically

Are the creators of The Eighth Sense going to pull a “who shot JR?” move?

Conceptualizing Jae Won: Or, what I think is happening with him

We don’t know how his younger brother died, but we know that he died in front of Jae Won when they were together, and it’s clear that he blames himself. I would be shocked if he was actually at fault even a little bit. But it does appear to have happened “on his watch” in a sense that lends itself to blaming himself. This is a huge issue, one that I’ll discuss in more detail later on.

Even before his brother’s death, Jae Won was clearly under a ton of pressure from his parents. And his father appears to be emotionally and, almost certainly, physically abusive. This is also far more likely to have pre-dated his brother’s death than to have only developed afterward.

In addition to pressure and abuse, I think it’s pretty clear that Jae Won was a parentified child. This means that he was put in a position of having to take care of his parents’ emotional needs as a child. This kind of role reversal has profound effects throughout the parentified person’s life.

Jae Won’s self-blame about his brother’s death means he was always going to be predisposed to stay stuck in the chronic version of the acute trauma response instead of moving through the natural healing process. In other words, he was almost certain to develop PTSD.

This is less clearly shown in the show, but my impression is that Jae Won has a deep-seated depressive tendency that existed before the loss of his brother. This would make sense for someone who faced the family-of-origin difficulties that he did.

When he did develop PTSD, as I have no doubt he did, Jae Won’s existing challenges were going to make him even more likely to develop the depressive symptoms of PTSD than others. We’ve seen some of these in the show already:

feeling alienated from others, unable to form meaningful connections with them,

anhedonia (an inability to feel positive emotions), and

negative beliefs about himself, other people, and the world.

All of this is happening at once. He’s dealing with PTSD, but he also still has all the same habits and beliefs he had before due to the parentification and training in people-pleasing, so he’s supposed to bottle up all of this pain. And if it’s his fault (in his mind) that his brother died, how much more does he owe his parents than he ever did before? This is a distorted, unhealthy way of thinking about all of it, but these kinds of maladaptive thoughts and expectations happen all the time with trauma survivors.

Jae Won’s therapist really sums all of this up very well when she says, “All your worries, not doing what you want to do because you do not want to let your parents down, and trying hard to be a good person to everyone because you do not want to disappoint others. Don’t you think it might be all because of your younger brother? Your younger brother, who got into an accident while with you. Your younger brother, who you couldn’t protect. And you are struggling to live your life for him as well.”

Jae Won’s therapist - comments and interpretations

I went into this series feeling nervous about its portrayal of therapy. I was very excited that therapy was being portrayed at all, mind you! It’s horrifying how seldom we see therapy mentioned as an option, much less shown, either in BLs or kdramas, and I’ve hoped for this to change for a long time now. But therapy is shown in an inaccurate way so often in media. And often, we see therapists and other mental health professionals breaking ethical rules. So I was on my guard, big time.

There’s one thing I really take issue with about Jae Won’s therapist, and it’s somewhat of a small thing: her office is way, way too dark! I just don’t think that kind of low lighting, with a lot of the illumination coming from her aquarium and other tinted light sources, is professional or conducive to therapy work. Of course, it’s obvious that her office is lit in this way because it looks cool and sets a certain mood for the show. And that’s fine. It’s a very stylized show in a lot of ways. But it makes me a little tweaky to watch it.

Some of the things she does in the therapy space with Jae Won are a bit open to interpretation, and could be debated. But I view her in a fairly charitable light, and I found that a favorable interpretation wasn’t difficult to justify at all. I ended up viewing her (so far, at least) as a very skillful and effective therapist.

I loved it when she joked, in the first scene after the credits for episode 1, “For God’s sake! Just tell me what your worries are!” Jae Won isn’t great at sharing. He’s been trained from early childhood not to show his messy, vulnerable emotions around authority figures. Jae Won is not an easy client by any stretch, so she may have been showing a mild version of some real frustration with him when she began that comment with mock-hostility. But he seems really sensitive to criticism, real or perceived. Coming at him directly about this could be risky. Using humor is a good way to get around this sensitivity pretty effectively. It’s worth noting, though, that I wouldn’t endorse this kind of move by a therapist unless they knew a client very well and had built a solid rapport with them.

The comment I quoted above (”Don’t you think it might be all because of your younger brother?”) connects so many of Jae Won’s interpersonal difficulties to the loss of his brother in a skillful way. It was very astute and well-put. But there are some things I would quibble with about it.

First, I’m kind of surprised that she is only saying this explicitly this far into therapy with Jae Won. It seems rather late to make such an observation considering this constellation of issues has, without a doubt, been in place the entire time they’ve been working together. This could definitely have been done sooner.

At the same time, paradoxically, it’s delivered abruptly, as if she blurted it out too soon. Actually, the abruptness comes from the fact that there’s not sufficient lead-up to the comment in their discussion beforehand.

Though the show’s treatment of mental health is strong overall, I think this part of this scene suffered from flawed writing. If I had written this scene, I would have made a change that I think would have resolved both of these issues. Instead of introducing this insight as if the therapist has just voiced it for the first time, I would have presented it as something she and Jae Won have touched on together more than once during their work together. Anyone who’s been to therapy knows that the same ideas, which appear as shocking revelations at first, often have to be returned to many times and worked through before we can benefit from them. She could have said something like, “This is that issue we’ve talked about before, right? It seems like another case of your beliefs about your brother’s death causing trouble in other areas of your life.”

Even better, she could have been shown quoting some kind of metaphor or shorthand Jae Won came up with himself when they’d spoken about this previously. For example, I had a client once who used to talk about metaphorically carrying around a giant, heavy book where he wrote down all of his failures. He described it in a similar way to “the catalog of mistakes” (I’m not going to share his actual wording, of course). Whenever I would use his wording, saying “the catalog of mistakes” or even “the catalog,” all of our prior discussion of that issue came into both our minds immediately. It also served as a reminder of our rapport and the importance I placed on his perspective.

Jae Won’s therapist - medication management

There’s one other area of Jae Won’s interactions with his therapist that is a bit hard to interpret. The exchange he has with his therapist about the amount of medication she’ll prescribe to him certainly seems important, but it’s hard to tell what exactly it means.

One thing that complicates this is the fact that he is receiving therapy and medication management services from the same provider. In other words, she seems to be a psychiatrist who provides therapy services. In most parts of the United States, this is rare (though that wasn’t always the case). I haven’t been able to tell whether this is more commonplace in South Korea.

Because she’s a prescriber and a therapist, asking for three weeks’ worth of medication instead of two also means waiting longer before having another therapy session. Maybe Jae Won really is just busy and trying to cut down on demands on his time, but this doesn’t seem too likely. It’s also possible that he’s seeking a greater quantity of his medication for some purpose, such as abusing it or using it for self-harm or to end his life. But he also could just be trying to put off his next therapy session to a later date because of his difficulty talking about vulnerable topics, something he demonstrates at multiple points in his therapy session. Similarly, when his therapist says she can extend his prescription to three weeks but not a month, because, as she puts it, “I need to do my job,” this could be in reference to the medication or her therapy work. Part of her job is keeping him from having access to too large an amount of medication at once, while another part is having therapy sessions with him (that are frequent enough to be useful). It’s hard to tell which of the two she was referring to, or whether it could be something else entirely. So I don’t think there’s one clearly correct interpretation here. But I do think we should be attentive to the possibility that he might be medication-seeking, possibly with the aim of using the medication for self-harm.

Human beings’ amazing capacity for self-blame

Even if you have experienced trauma or have been close to someone who has, unless you’ve spent time with a sizable sample of trauma survivors, it’s hard to understand just how readily people blame themselves for traumatic experiences. I had had personal experience with this as a survivor of intimate partner violence before I ever did any training in trauma therapy, but I was still totally floored when I observed firsthand just how often this happens and how unjustifiable every single instance of self-blame I encountered in clients turned out to be.

This is actually a big area for me as a researcher so I’m going to try not to go off on a massive tangent, but I think this is important. When we experience trauma, one of the most frequent responses people have is to blame themselves. I used to describe this to clients as a “deal with the devil.” Blaming ourselves allows us to feel like we have control over whether such things will happen to us (and/or those we care about) in the future. If we tell ourselves, “the trauma only happened to me because I did something bad, or something wrong,” then we can also tell ourselves, “but I’ll never do the bad or wrong thing again so from now on I’ll be safe.”

It’s very tempting to make this bargain, but it is an extremely bad deal. Self-blame is one of the biggest reasons some people get stuck in their acute trauma response instead of completing the healing process, resulting in PTSD. That feeling of control isn’t worth that. But human beings are so tempted to make this trade. When I was doing trauma therapy as a trainee, I saw example after example of folks who did seriously remarkable amounts of mental gymnastics in order to justify blaming themselves for their trauma. I’m going to talk briefly now about a client I had many years ago, without giving any details that could be remotely identifying. This person had witnessed the death of a close friend when they were in combat together. I did prolonged exposure therapy with this person, meaning he had to tell me the story of his friend’s death again and again and again. When we do this type of work, it usually seems at first like the client is telling the exact same story again and again without any real change. But little changes crop up gradually and accumulate and after a while, you find the story has made big shifts. And occasionally, a big change happens.

This client started out telling his story in a way that looked for every possible reason his friend’s death could have been his fault. And wow, was he ever grasping at straws. It was almost as if he had said something as nonsensical as “I had oatmeal for breakfast that day and maybe that’s why my friend died.” Every miniscule decision he had made that day could, in his eyes, potentially have caused his friend’s death in some mysterious and imperceptible way. It would have been absurd had it not been so sad. But thankfully, as we continued the exposure work, his story gradually changed and these justifications for self-blame started to fall away a little at a time.

Then, one day, a crucial detail was added to the story that blew me away. After weeks of telling the story in the usual way, my client mentioned for the first time that just before his friend was hit, he had called out a warning to him, which the friend had ignored. He’d mentioned countless ways he might be to blame--none of them remotely justified--but had never told me about the one very clear way in which he had tried to prevent his friend’s death. When I pointed this out, my client was shocked that he had never mentioned that detail before. We spent a lot of time unpacking what all of this meant. It was the single biggest turning point in his therapy. So, yeah. People have an amazing capacity for figuring out even the slimmest of pretexts for self-blame, and it’s abundantly clear that Jae Won is exercising that capacity big time. I’m pretty certain we’ll find out that he has been blaming himself a lot for what happened while having no real justification for doing so.

(Side note: I have tons more thoughts about trauma, self-blame, victim-blaming more generally, and other related psychological constructs--these are all longstanding research interests of mine--but I’m going to stop here because this thing is already ridiculously long. But if anyone reading this ever wants to discuss any of this further, please feel free to hit me up! I love talking about these things.)

Interpreting show production choices psychologically

Let’s review where we find Jae Won toward the beginning of the show. I’ve talked about how Jae Won had a lot of psychological difficulties before the story started. His family of origin situation was damaging even before he lost his brother, and then he had to contend with trauma and complicated grief. After that, he went through a breakup (possibly due to his partner cheating on him), completed his military service, and then had to make the transition back to civilian life, which isn’t easy under the best of circumstances.

And then he meets Ji Hyun, and his feelings for him unsettle the precarious set of strategies that he’s been using to get by. Ji Hyun makes Jae Won feel tempted to let his guard down and be himself. He places a degree of trust in Jae Won that challenges his cynicism and makes him feel tempted to trust Ji Hyun in return--to trust him to an extent that would normally be out of the question for him. Ji Hyun shakes things up, and while this is mostly a very positive thing--there are a lot of things in Jae Won’s life that urgently need to change--it’s also rather destabilizing in the short term.

Then the shit starts to hit the fan when Jae Won wakes up after staying out late drinking to hear his father pounding on his door. And the makers of the show start to play around with cinematography, editing, sound design, and other aspects of the show’s production to evoke Jae Won’s inner experience. After his dad pounds on his door, the way the show is shot and edited changes.

This disjointed editing and other distortions of typical filmmaking at this point in episode 5 have reminded some folks on here of a dissociative state, and I can see why. I would agree that it has a dissociative flavor. There are two prominent types of dissociation (which can happen simultaneously):

derealization, a feeling that the world around us isn’t real--it may feel empty, strange, or just plain wrong; and

depersonalization, in which we feel like we’re seeing ourselves from the outside, as if the person we’re observing isn’t us.

It’s tricky to talk about either of these in the context of tv/film because as viewers watching a fictional story unfold in a TV show, we are by definition:

perceiving that the world the characters inhabit doesn’t seem real, because it isn’t

looking at the characters from the outside, because they aren’t us (and they aren’t real)

But there are conventions of film and tv production that give us a sense of realism and of seeing things from characters’ points of view, and when Jae Won is dissociating we see those conventions get suspended or distorted. For example:

Conventional editing creates a flow of time that feels realistic (partly because we learn the “language” of film from a young age and interpret it that way). At important moments in The Eighth Sense, the editing breaks the rules of conventional editing, often messing with the viewers’ sense of time. Contexts change abruptly, as when Jae Won suddenly goes from being at home to being in his car. At other points, dialogue also goes out of sync.

Shot-reverse shot techniques help to approximate seeing things from the characters’ perspectives, situating us in the story so that we don’t feel like we’re observing from a distance. The most notable moment when this rule is broken happens when Jae Won is upset about his camera being damaged. We see him telling someone between sobs that the camera was a gift from his younger brother, but that person (assumably his dad) isn’t shown at all--not even a shoulder or the back of a head.

There’s also a lot of use of shallow depth of field (something the show uses in other ways as well), putting Jae Won in focus while his surroundings become a blur, making the world around him look hazy and unreal.

The sequence where Ji Hyun and Jae Won kiss in the ocean puts their dialogue way out of sync. On my first viewing, this just seemed like an interesting choice, one that gave the scene a sort of dreamlike quality. I’ve seen this strategy used before, as well, without any reference to mental illness, usually in art films. The first example that came to mind for me was from a Godard movie. It would be a valid option regardless of mental health-related content in a show. But after what immediately follows, I think that scene is portraying a trauma memory. Sometimes benign events that happened just before something traumatic become encoded with trauma memories rather than our usual type. (To put it briefly, trauma memories are encoded and stored in a different part of the brain from our everyday memories, and this is why they “behave” differently and have a different sensory quality from typical memories. Trauma recovery often involves some degree of re-encoding these memories in a more normal manner.)

Basically, the show sometimes puts the viewer into an approximation of a derealized and depersonalized state, particularly relative to what we’re used to as TV watchers. At other points, it shows characters’ experiences as if they were traumatic memories.

Are the creators of The Eighth Sense going to pull a “who shot JR?” move?

All this being said, I think that Jae Won’s dissociative moments, while very concerning and doubtless extremely distressing for him, do not point toward any sort of severe dissociative disorder like Dissociative Identity Disorder, nor do they make me concerned that his reality-testing (his ability to effectively distinguish what is and isn’t real) is impaired. I also don’t see any signs of cognitive impairment that would create a similar degree of confusion about reality. As a result, I don’t think the show’s use of signs of dissociation suggests that entire sections of the story will later be shown not to have happened.

Here’s the thing about dissociation. On paper, it sounds like an extreme symptom that approaches the kind of severe mental illness that includes symptoms like hallucinations and delusions. But the vast majority of the time, it’s very different from psychosis. And it’s also, in my opinion, more of a spectrum than we care to acknowledge most of the time. When we look at it that way, we can see that in a sense, Jae Won is at least a tiny bit dissociated a whole lot of the time. But frankly, so am I. It’s not uncommon for trauma survivors. It’s very different from something that would result in impaired reality-testing.

It’s possible that the show will end up revealing that Jae Won’s mental illness has resulted in him imagining entire segments of the show. These types of symptoms are often portrayed in media, for a couple of reasons: 1) people just find psychosis fascinating, and 2) these types of symptoms are very handy for creating plot twists and other interesting narrative devices. It’s not hard to think of examples of this. Fight Club, Black Swan, Shutter Island...the list goes on and on. But these portrayals are almost always inaccurate and exploitative. So far, the folks who make The Eighth Sense have shown a great deal of nuanced awareness of and sensitivity toward mental health matters, so I don’t think they would use this kind of cheap plot device. But they might. If so, I’ll find that pretty disappointing.

There is one thing the showrunners are doing that is somewhat sneaky in a way that’s could look analogous to that. Others have pointed out that Jae Won and his therapist are wearing the same clothes in every therapy scene, suggesting that we’re seeing the same therapy session interspersed with the other events of the series. In other words, the therapy session operates on a very different timeline from the rest of the story. We don’t know where to situate it relative to the rest of the plot. But I don’t see that as tied to the show’s portrayal of Jae Won’s mental health, nor does it seem exploitative or out of left field.

To sum up:

So far, The Eighth Sense has been remarkably accurate regarding psychological matters and has portrayed therapy and the use of psychotropic medication in a mostly positive and realistic light. I get the feeling the writers/directors/etc. have had some experience receiving mental health treatment. I really hope they maintain this level of quality throughout the remainder of the series.

I don’t think Jae Won’s PTSD (or his depression/anxiety) are sufficient for him to experience psychosis. I don’t expect entire segments of the show will be revealed to be an elaborate lie or hallucination, and if they are, I would consider that to be an example of poor writing and an unrealistic and potentially harmful representation of mental illness.

#The Eighth Sense #psychology of BL #trauma #self-blame #dissociation #media portrayals of mental illness #media portrayals of psychotherapy #media portrayals of trauma #jae won x ji hyun

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kvetchinglyneurotic · 4 months

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I wouldn’t mind hearing your thoughts on the reality tv fic research you’re doing, if you had any thoughts or observations you wanted to share, be they fic-related or otherwise 🌹

So the reality TV fic is really the first chapter/prologue of a longer fic that covers Jamie's reintegration into the team and developing friendship with Sam in the first half of season 2, while also having some complicated feelings about Amsterdam and his time on Lust Conquers All as Sam and Jan rope him into their effort to get the player auction during at the charity gala changed to something less terrible. While I don't necessarily think Jamie's experience on LCA was itself traumatic, the structure of reality dating shows might poke at some sore spots in a way he might not consciously register, same as the auction did in season 1.

Unhinged ramble on reality TV dating and how it might affect Jamie under the read more:

(My research was mainly focused on Love Island UK, the real-world equivalent of LCA; however, some of the rules, filming practices, ect. are based on industry norms that I don't know for 100% certain apply to this show)

There are some aspects of the reality TV experience that Jamie would likely be better equipped to handle than most contestants — while the producers do go out and scout people and I gather that some (or possibly most) of them are social media "micro-influencers," one of the main things they tend to struggle with is not only the sudden rise to fame and the volume of criticism that comes with it, but the fact that it's very temporary fame and they have to reintegrate into regular life and a regular job afterwards. Jamie struggles with depression after leaving LCA, but he clearly didn't put the same stock in it as a career move as most contestants do — his depression is tied to his football career (or rather, his temporary lack thereof) and his dad; LCA was primarily a way to get away from James rather than something he was invested in for its own merits or that he likely expected to have much of an impact on his life in the long term.

He also has an advantage when it comes to contract negotiations. Reality TV contracts are extremely extensive and typically involve the contestants waiving the right to sue in the event of... basically any kind of harm (emotional/psychological distress, injury, illness, death, ect), as well as their right to privacy — many shows specify that they have hidden cameras and microphones throughout the entire house, including areas like bedrooms and even bathrooms, and that they can use, edit, ect. anything they record however they want, including frankenbiting, ie cutting together snippets of audio to form sentences that the contestants never actually said — and their contact with the outside world, as contestants aren't allowed to keep their phones or go on social media. They also often tie the contestants to the production company for several months afterwards, which may involve doing public appearances or even restricting activities related to the show (this is less relevant for something like LCA, but American Idol season 2 contracts didn't let contestants sing anywhere outside the show, even at like. private gatherings with friends and family).

I imagine Jamie's contract would include a lot of these same rules, but unlike most contestants, he has an agent (even if we know the agent kind of sucks) who may have gotten him better terms. That being said, based on the way his agent talks about him going on LCA in 2x02, there is a distinct possibility that he signed on as an impulse decision and actually didn't have anyone look over the contract, so really whether or not he had an advantage here depends on how pre-meditated his decision was at the time. Another area where he has an advantage is purely demographic: he's a white man, and reality dating shows have a massive problem with racism and sexism that affects casting, how the contestants are framed once they're on the show, and even voting behaviour.

Prospective cast members undergo a very thorough vetting process that involves a background check, medical exam, psychological evaluation, and interviews with basically everyone they've ever talked to, it seems like. How effective the psych eval is in rooting out people who are likely to be negatively affected by the show is debatable — I read an interview with a former contestant on the Bachelor who said she suspects she was chosen because she was emotionally fragile after a recent breakup with her fiancé — and they seem to be more geared towards keeping people off the show who are likely to be physically violent with the other contestants. Jamie fits the profile of someone who might be chosen pretty well, actually: he's combative and has a big enough personality to be involved in drama, but he doesn't actually start physical fights.

Once contestants arrive, their belongings are searched for any contraband alcohol or drugs, as well as clothes with logos from non-sponsor brands. Shows generally don't allow them to keep their phones or other electronics — Love Island contestants have cellphones that they sometimes use to take pictures and where they instructions via text, but these don't appear to be their own personal phones. (Sometimes contestants appear to be posting on social media during the season, but it's actually someone else running their account.) They're also not allowed to leave the villa except on scheduled dates (some shows do allow the contestants out, but they have to ask permission first). This is... kind of creepy, honestly, but I suspect that with James being on Jamie's case the way he was after he came back to Manchester, the lack of contact with the outside world may have been part of what appealed to him.

Life in the villa is very regimented: two producers live there with them and the contestants are told when to eat and when to sleep. This is another area that Jamie might cope with better than the average contestant, since he'd be used to working with nutritionists and generally having many more aspects of his life than the general person planned out, and the dietary restrictions are likely less strict. While conversations aren't scripted, contestants are often told to go to a specific location and to have a conversation with a specific person about a specific topic, which produces the slightly odd effect that, especially in the first couple of episodes, they spent all their time analyzing their relationships/prospective relationships with people they just met and barely know. I suspect this might be part of why it's hard to build sustainable romantic relationships in this environment — obviously communicating about what everyone wants in a relationship is good, but it doesn't allow for the regular conversations that make up most of the process of getting to know and like another person.

Which brings us to: kayfabe. Kayfabe is a wrestling term which refers to the implicit agreement between wrestlers and their fans to act as though the staged performances are authentic. Part of what I suspected tripped Jamie up during his stint on LCA and got him kicked off is that he's... not great at this part. He'd probably have some form of PR training and he has experience doing brand deals, but ultimately footballers don't have to pretend they're doing anything other than trying to win. Reality dating contestants can't say that they're there to build their brand or win the cash prize; the only motivation they can publicly acknowledge (not contractually, just in terms of coming off well to the audience) is finding love, and I suspect that Jamie was maybe a bit more obvious than he should have been about the fact that he approached it as a competition more than as an opportunity to find a relationship, which I don't think he was actually interested in at that point (or at any point, for the aro Jamie truthers among us).

There's also a bit of a tension between the producers' putative goal of capturing authentic reactions and creating certain storylines. The result is that they try to elicit certain reactions during the talking head interviews without stating outright what they want the contestant to say, and I suspect Jamie and the producers would find each other frustrating to deal with given his blunt approach to social interaction and difficulty with subtext and other forms of indirect communication. Similarly, interactions between the contestants — particularly the contestants of opposite genders — are governed by a set of extremely heteronormative social norms in which the contestants reaffirm their relationships through by, for instance, acting jealous or worried when their current partner is talking to another person as a sign that they're serious about the relationship. In addition to just generally not being a sexist dick even in his prick era, he is, again, just not that great with subtext. Ultimately, I think Jamie attracts the public's ire because he's too obvious about the fact that he's approaching LCA as a game to be won — while viewers are generally aware that reality TV is constructed, the contestants acknowledging that damages their popularity.

And now onto the potentially triggering stuff. First up: the alcohol. Most reality dating shows involve a lot of drinking, although instances of light drinking (eg sipping on champaign, drinking beer on dates) are generally more common than heavy drinking like taking shots or the contestants being shown to be very drunk, though it does happen. Some shows have an open bar, while others control the consumption of alcohol more closely and only give the contestants one bottle at a time. Contestants on Love Island are often shown drinking (usually champaign, or at least something in champaign flutes) from what appears to be an open bar, but I'm not sure which approach they actually use. I've seen some former contestants (on The Bachelor, not Love Island) attribute the frequency with which everyone drinks to the fact that they don't really have anything to do besides interact with the other contestants, get involved in drama, and drink — they don't have personal electronics, obviously, but they also aren't allowed to bring books or other forms of entertainment. Jamie does drink in canon and he goes out clubbing with his teammates, but the consistency with which everyone is drinking and the potential pressure to drink more himself as a result might make it feel a bit more fraught, particularly if part of the reason he doesn't remember losing his virginity in Amsterdam is because James forced him to drink.

Second: consent in reality dating shows is... weird. Once they sign the contract and enter the villa, the contestants pushed — though not technically legally required — to engage in various forms of intimacy which in any other situation would be considered pretty clear violations of their consent. Couples are formed unilaterally: in the season of Love Island that I watched (season 8), the initial couples were chosen by the voting public, and couples are re-formed in ceremonies in which, for instance, a newly arrived man choses between the two single women and the one who isn't chosen is sent home (or vice versa). In essence, only one member of the couple (or neither, in the case of public voting) actually has a say in whether they want to be with the other person. These couples then sleep in the same bed (in a room they share with all the other contestants), and the challenges similarly often involve one contestant choosing another to kiss, offer a lap dance, demonstrate their favourite sexual position, or perform other forms of intimacy (these examples are all from the first challenge of the first episode of season 8). In essence, while the contestants could technically refuse, they probably also wouldn't be on the show for long, and the whole thing is very much built on the presumption of consent to these more "mild" forms of intimacy.

Other Things:

Part way through, the men are sent to a different villa where they meet a new set of women, while the women stay at the original villa and meet a new set of men. I imagine the Jamie cheating on Amy with Denise in a hot tub incident probably occurred during something like this.

For some reason the announcer always calls them "boys" and "girls." He does it for both genders so at least it's not sexist, but I still don't like it.

If you want to read more about consent in reality TV dating, I found this chapter very interesting: Sreyashi Mukherjee and Dacia Pajé, "'You Can't Force Someone to Want You': Investigating Consent, Tokenism, and Play in Reality Dating Shows," in The Forgotten Victims of Sexual Violence in Film, Television and New Media: Turning to the Margins, ed. Stephanie Patrick and Mythili Rajiva (Palgrave Macmillan) [tried to attach the pdf but I got it through institutional access from my university and it won't let me 😞)

#lust conquers all #jamie tartt #it's so long i'm sorry #asks #i love when someone asks me about something i wanted to ramble about anyway #kvetch oc

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walkingstackofbooks · 28 days

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I was thinking last night about how it would have affected Julian if he'd arrived a few seconds too late to that Cargo Bay in Hard Time and Miles had died in front of him (because that's always a fun (distressing) scene to imagine 👀) and that kind of spiralled into a whole canon-divergent 'verse...

Because then I got to The Quickening, and while I don't think Kira and Dax would have let a more emotionally-vulnerable Julian actually stay on the planet by himself for that whole time, if they did (or if he refused to beam up/ threw away his badge so they couldn't find him/ idk otherwise made it so they had to leave him) (because if anything he's going to be even MORE convinced he has to save every life he possibly can) it would obviously be even more devastating.

And I can imagine that, after all that time that Julian has spent with Ekoria and looking after her, Trevean might ask if Julian's going to take her baby or leave him to be raised on Teplan. In the canon universe Julian's obviously like *nervous laughter* "no I think he'll be better off with you... I could not raise a child" but in this 'verse he's entered his Feeling-All-The-Loneliness-Feels phase early and so is like "fuck I can't raise a kid but also I Literally Cannot Leave This Child It Would Kill Me" and so he takes Ekoria's baby back to DS9.

He takes his kid to the medical conference he goes to with Jake which, valid, but then they get the distress call from Ajilon Prime* and he's like "I can't take my baby to a warzone" and Jake's like "I'll look after him, it sounds like these people need you" and Julian's pretty torn but also he does Need To Save People so they go and, uh. Like I think reactions are pretty mixed about the baby but Julian is literally a Lifesaver so no-one's gonna complain too much and some of the patients want to hold Maris (the kid's called Maris after Ekoria's husband I decided) and it's sweet, y'know, to have a moment outside of the war and pain with this tiny lil bab.

[*Umm yeah this was just me jumping to the most fun (traumatic) events to imagine as I tried to go to sleep so forgive me but...]

Obviously Jake doesn't go off to the runabout with the kid so he still gets lost and when he returns Julian's cradling the baby and idk but my heart just imagining the scene where Julian's like "I should never have brought you here, what was I thinking?" is just MORE with him having his own son there too.

And then we skip to IPS/BIL and Julian's in the prison camp not knowing if his baby is alive and then coming back to realise the changeling has been parenting his son for a month (and having to run multiple test on Maris to check if his baby is actually his or if Maris is a changeling too) and also no-one even noticed he was missing even though apparently his kid had been crying like all the time (and fuck, how fucked up is that going to leave Maris because that sort of thing affects kids when it happens that young, right? anxietyyyy)

(also Miles would have noticed I wasn't me, Julian thinks. because he needs more reasons to feel sad.)

And then DBIP in this 'verse makes me UNHINGED because IMAGINE a Julian Bashir who hit his depression point a season earlier but has been teetering along okay since Maris came along now that he has this whole little life to look after and he will do Anything for his child. (okay apart from stay away from warzones when there are people to save but you know. basically anything)

Anyway yeah so Julian's got Maris with him in Sisko's office when Jadzia turns up with his parents and he is FAR less able to cope than canon Julian is because 1. more emotional instability, but mostly 2. he is a Dad with a Kid and NOPE he cannot have his parents anywhere near his baby that is Not Happening.

He has his oh, my god moment and then hands Maris to Sisko being like "Your grandson is lovely, Commander" and Ben and Jadzia are like ??? but play along and Julian finds some quarters for his parents and by the time they've got there with all the small talk of "hah, for a second there I thought you'd be telling us we have grandkids! when are you going to settle down with a nice girl, Jules?" he's ready to burst but his kid's still with Sisko so he just excuses himself with "I've got to work" and hurries back...

Dax and Sisko totally haven't been gossiping about him and they're all like "So what was that about? Grandson??" and he's like "You saw how they kept calling me Jules, right? I haven't gone by that name since I was 15. And my dad saying he had to convince me to do medicine?? He hated the idea of me being a doctor. I had to study for Starfleet in secret because he just couldn't let go of the idea of his son being a famous tennis player. And now he's convinced himself my career was all his idea!" and is getting angrier and sadder and Maris starts crying and so he's hushing him like "it's okay, i'm sorry, i'm not angry with you, i love you, you're safe, i'm not going to hurt you" -- just idle things he's not really thinking about

Ofc Sisko and Dax are immediately on it like, "Why are you saying that? Did your parents hurt you...?"

And Julian's like a deer in the headlights, and awkwardly replying, "Not, like... My father didn't get as angry with me once I was seven and had grown up a bit, got more capable.. and I hit my growth spurt when I was 14, I got bigger than him, he didn't really do anything after that."

And Sisko tells him, "that's not really an answer."

Julian: "Isn't it?"

...

And then Sisko gets Kira involved to kick his parents off the station and you think the augment reveal isn't going to happen because Julian deserves a break and his parents are gone and can't fuck it up anymore ...

BUT, nah: Zimmerman - realising he's not going to get his precious interviews after all - decides to bug Julian's parents (because what's privacy when you have a job to do?). And then Rom realises that Zimmerman is cocking up a load of things on the LMH deliberately because he doesn't want to replace the EMH* and looks into Zimmerman's files and finds the report he's going to send and blackmails the guy* (there's gotta be a rule of acquisition about that right?) into not sending the report.

[*Not my idea -- this was the original plan for the episode, though with Miles, not Rom.]

Also after all this Julian really feels like he needs to punch something he goes to Quark's to viciously hurl sharp pointy objects at a board because that's the next best thing -- but also he hasn't exactly done that since Miles, and why is the fucking dartboard still up anyway it's not like anyone else ever uses it so he has another minor breakdown over that and tries to rip it down until Leeta drags him into a storeroom.

(oh yeah I totally think Leeta would have broken up with him when he turned up with a baby -- like not in a mean way, just in a "i'm sorry Julian, I love you, but I'm not ready for a kid (and also you did just leave me for a month without sending a message and you definitely didn't think about me before agreeing to adopt the kid, did you?)" kind of way, y'know? but they're still friends and she still definitely cares for him.)

(idk when rom tells julian what he did to zimmerman but when he does he's also awkwardly like "oh and i wish you and leeta all the best and julian's like ???? and rom's like "i saw you with her in the storeroom earlier. she called you sweetheart" or something and has assumed they're back together.)

And that's as far as I got but I just had to write it up so far because it has haunted me all day and I just need to get it out there.

Thanks for reading my stream of thoughts 💔

#Julian Bashir #genetically enhanced Julian Bashir #andi writes #sorry miles and keiko and like everyone else #i'm sure miles dying would have a lot of other effects #but i'm all about piling the trauma on our boy you know me 😅#also i /was/ thinking this as i went to sleep and don't know many episodes in order unless they're julian ones :P #my trek musings #fic ideas #wsb

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