Just wanted to bring to your attention that the term whump was actually coined by the Stargate fandom specifically to describe making this guy suffer. He is the original Mr. Whump (no that's not his actual name). That's how torturable this guy is.
Everyone say mean things about him.
Here is a non exhaustive list of what he goes through in canon btw:
His parents get crushed to death right in front of him when he is a kid
He is forced to relive the memory of his parents death countless times
He dies and gets resurrected
His wife gets possessed
He fails to save her and she dies in his arms
He dies and gets resurrected again
He gets infected by a virus that makes him act crazy and gets put in an insane asylum
He dies and gets resurrected again
His ex gets possessed
He is exposed to a lethal dose of radiation
He dies and ascends to a higher plane, then gets kicked out of the higher plane and his memory is wiped
we used to get christmas episodes of television. halloween episodes. valentines. we used to get television that felt like part of your life. like it was happening alongside your life. now we mostly get 8 episodes dropping all at once every two years and they don't have time for any of that. i miss characters living alongside us
i love how fussy picard is about letting people take runabouts for any reason, personal or private. like he makes everyone file 63 pieces of paperwork to just board one. but then there's my man sisko, who's too busy playing with his baseball and thinking about what he's cooking for dinner to even care. kira wants to go kill someone? sure, why not. julian needs to go on a homoerotic mission with his boyfriend? hmm? ok yeah whatever. quark needs to do literally anything? sisko is thinking about baseball so you're as good as gone.
I think everything that is happening to Doctor Bashir is so much more fun and unhinged when you remember that it's his first job ever. Like he was just writing his finals a week ago and now he's saving people's lives and flirting with a fashionable spy lizard (affectionately) on the edge of the galaxy
Amsha and Richard Bashir piss me off so bad. "Oh but Jules you were just so small and dumb as a first grader so of course the next logical step was to have you illegally genetically enhanced. You don't have children so you just wouldn't understand Jules. It was truly the only thing we could do." Throw yourselves off a cliff.
this caption from memory alpha is killing me. "consider reassociation" is THE funniest way to describe the most passionate kiss in the franchise. they're analyzing the pros and cons. straight up pondering their rapport. weighing various options regular style. iconic
TW for mentions of anxiety, meltdowns, sensory overload, childhood trauma/abuse, self injury, and blood/biting.
A small fic about the dear doctor and autistic reader. The reader gets a meltdown from sensory overload and doesn’t want Julian to know what’s wrong.
You were in Ops working on recalibrating the main computer systems when you heard Sisko and Kiera get into a yelling match in his office. Not unusual, you thought, as they were both strong-headed. It was only an hour into Beta shift, and you had a feeling it was going to be a long, rough day.
By lunch, you were 4 hours deep into the same task from this morning, and far too focused to want to grab any food. You had been riding out the day on raktajinos and pure adrenaline, thinking, “Maybe not the healthiest habit,” as Julian often chided you about it.
1600 struck, and you’d been stuck giving a training to some visiting cadets about Cardassian and Starfleet hybrid technical systems, your usual favorite topic at the moment that you were quite passionate about. It was not easy to integrate the two systems when Starfleet moved onto the station and had taken a long time for you and Chief O’Brian to tame. Yet, today you felt overwhelmed. There were so many other things planned on your list for the day, and now it had been thrown off by the early arrival of the cadets.
Flash forward, and it’s 1900, and you’re 3 hours past your shift ending. You were deep into fixing a faulty isolinear rod set in the bottom level of Ops when you heard an alarm start blaring. You immediately covered your ears, trying to make your brain function past the incessant noise. “Commander (L/N), what’s that alarm?” Sisko asks coming out of his office. “I’m not sure, sir. I’m not even working on anything that should cause an alarm to go off. I’ll get it off as soon as possible, sir!” You yell through the noise in response. You slowly moved your hands away from your ears, so badly wanting to keep them clamped shut, yet knowing you obviously wouldn’t be able to work otherwise.
It took you over 30 min to get it to stop; somehow, the faulty isolinear rod for the sensors corrupted the emergency system, triggering a false alarm. Your brain felt like sludge by the time you were done. “Sorry that took so long, Captain. I apologize for the noise.” You stated sincerely to your commanding officer. “It’s alright, Commander. You should get out of here; your shift ended over 3 hours ago.” Sisko chided you like a father. You nodded and made your way to the turbo lift to head to your quarters.
You had barely been able to keep your mask up, especially after the change in plans and the sudden loud alarm. You were fidgeting with your sleeves on your uniform as you walked down the corridor of the habitat ring, eventually coming to your and your boyfriend’s quarters. You let out a sigh as you entered. “(Y/N)! I was about to go and track you down, but figured you were the one fixing that alarm.” Julian chuckled, happy to see you home. He came over to give you a kiss on the cheek and wrap you in his arms, only for you to jump back suddenly, your brain not being able to handle the sensory input at the moment. His eyes swam over your body quickly and quietly scanning for what was wrong. You didn’t stay still long, bolting out of the living room towards the bathroom. You curled up on the floor, quickly locking the door when you entered. Julian chased after you.
“(Y/N)…love, please unlock the door.” Julian pleaded when he tried to enter the bathroom, hearing the chirp of defeat confirming his suspicions. You just sat there, frozen, unable to move from your current position on the floor. Julian had always promised you he would never use his medical override unless he felt that you were in danger or hurt enough to need it. You heard him typing a code into the door, followed by a hiss as it opened.
“Oh, love.” He said softly, the door closing behind him, as he sat down next to you. Though, he didn’t reach out to touch you after what had just happened. “Anxiety attack?” He asked with a hint of concern in his voice.
“No…” you state, barely above a whisper, which you could only assume caused him to look even sadder with those brown puppy dog eyes of his. “Did you get hurt? Are you hiding an injury?” He asked, even more concern.
“Please…leave.” You force out, but there was a waver in your voice. You really didn’t want him to go, but you didn’t want him to see this side of you. Your left foot started tapping on the floor. Any second now, you’d be rocking back and forth, biting your hand to stop yourself from screaming due to the overstimulation you’d spent all day blocking out. You had no more energy in you to voice another complaint. The mask was slipping, yet he wouldn’t leave. You clench your jaw. “Please.” You whisper, barely audible even in the silence surrounding you at the moment. You start shaking; you couldn’t contain it any longer. You rock back and forth and bite your hand, a garbled scream escaping, followed by a whimper of pain. You wanted the buzz of the station to stop.
You squeezed your eyes shut and clamped your ears with your hands, rocking back and forth. Then, you switched to putting your hands on your thighs and digging your nails into your dress pants. Julian went to grab your hand to stop you from hurting yourself more, but you were in a blind fit of pain and fear. You slapped his hand away quickly. You hated meltdowns; you had spent your entire life bottling up this part of you and making sure to seem as normal as possible. You were lucky the task at hand in Ops stopped you from an immediate spiral.
Your autism. Another thing wrong with you. He must think you’re a freak acting this way. You hear the bathroom door open and close again with a soft hiss. ‘Perfect,’ you thought. He was definitely going to break up with you once this is over. How could someone like you ever be loved like this? You begin rocking back and forth more vigorously, biting your hand to suppress another incoherent scream. You really hoped the 13mm of soundproofing between you and your neighbors was working; however, after running the calculations in your head it made you think otherwise.
You didn’t know how long it had been in the bathroom, but you were biting yourself with one hand and hitting your thigh with your other. You’d gnawed so hard trying to stop yourself from screaming that you felt blood dripping and the taste of iron in your mouth. The bathroom door hissed open and Julian came back in; it’s dark, but you can make out from his outline that he’s carrying stuff in his hands. Placing almost everything down in front of the both of you.
“May I put these on you?” He asked, barely above a whisper, holding up in the dark what appeared to be a pair of old-style headphones. You nodded, not looking up to acknowledge him. He gingerly put them over your ears as the world went quiet. The hum of the station was gone. The buzz of the lights in the living room was silent. The whine of noise from your neighbor above taking a sonic shower, stopped. Your brain relaxed a bit. A knot untying in your stomach that you didn’t even realize was there. Julian put another item in your lap. It was weighted and soft. As well as a silicone-textured item that was on a string. He pulled out a PADD he had brought with him and typed something out: ‘Weighted plush dog and medium chew :)’ showing it to you. You clung for dear life to the plushie with one hand and put the chew in your mouth. You recognized the objects from your locked stash in your closet. A small box you never let Julian open. Your brain was too scrambled to be upset at him for it, let alone figure out how he knew.
You slowly centered yourself with the items Julian provided, while he sat there reading on his PADD next to you. After what seems like eternity, you put the weighted stuffed dog down, stopped biting on the chew, and gingerly took off the noise-canceling headphones. You slowly looked up at Julian, unable to see the expression on his face. You held your left hand, rubbing it a bit as you’d bit quite hard on it and was definitely starting to hurt.
“I-I-“ you start to say, your brain still not quite functional yet. You mentally grasped for any semblance of your mask, but it was shattered at the moment. Julian sat in front of you, quiet and nonjudgmental as he looked up from his PADD. “Do you want me to take a look at your hand?” Julian asked, you could make out through the darkness a glimmer of kindness in his eyes and the same gentle demeanor you’d become accustomed to.
Your voice was still not cooperating, so you just nodded yes, but realized it was pitch black in the bathroom. He must have assumed you’d nodded though, as he said softly, “I’m going to need to turn on the light a little bit so feel free to close your eyes.” Reaching for the light, he set it on low before grabbing the medkit next to his feet. You slowly opened your eyes, immediately casting them downwards as Julian reached for your bleeding and bruised hand. You sat in silence as he gingerly ran the dermal regenerator over your hand before gently placing it back down on your lap. You couldn’t get up the courage to look at him.
You felt a rush of shame wash over you, you felt so childish. Thoughts started to fill your brain again as it repeatedly stated “Julian is treating me like a child because that’s what I am. No adult would act like this. No Starfleet officer would act like this.” Julian must have noticed you stuck in your thoughts, however, as he piped up “It’s okay, (Y/N). You haven’t done anything wrong, love.”
A surge of anger rushed through your chest before you shouted, “YES, I HAVE! You weren’t supposed to see me like this.” Your voice faltered at the end. Your heart rate quickened once more, and your throat tightened, causing your chest to constrict.
Julian gently grabbed your hand, putting it in his. You didn’t remove it, frozen in place, yet welcoming the contact this time. “When I became your boyfriend, I signed up for every part of you, (Y/N). You hiding your autism from me doesn’t make me upset. I just wish you’d told me so I could’ve helped you sooner. I care about you so much.” He said, his eyes glistened with what appeared to be tears.
“I’m a freak.” You muttered, your eyes glanced up, then back down, focusing on your lap. “You are no such thing! Your brain works differently from others, that’s all.” Julian says, upset over you saying such an accusation. He wasn’t upset at you, but for how the people around you must have shown their disdain for you all your life to make you think that.
“(Y/F/N) (Y/L/N). You are the brightest person I’ve ever met. Your autism is a part of you that makes you who you are today. It’s a part of you that I fell in love with.” Julian says, softly kissing the hand he was still holding.
You slowly peered up at him. Your eyes were filled with guilt, sadness, but also a glimmer of hope. “No one has ever said that when I’ve had a meltdown in front of them…once they’ve seen this part of me.” You say, a tone of disdain in your voice. Your thoughts rush to memories of how your parents would put soap in your mouth to make you stop screaming during a meltdown, how they’d hit you if you ever made so much as a noise in public. How they’d grip your hands to move them off your ears so you wouldn’t look “weird” in front of others. You close your eyes and grimace at the thoughts, a tear escaped.
Julian noticed and brushed his hand across your face, wiping the stray tear away. “I will always be here to support you. You don’t have to ever go through this alone.” He says sincerely. You want nothing more than to curl into his arms, seek his embrace, his warmth. Yet your brain is still afraid, so instead you scoot over closer to him, just enough to rest your head on his shoulder. He takes the invitation, gently stroking your hair, brushing a kiss to your temple. You sit in companionable silence for a while, your mind and body starting to calm down.
Julian breaks the silence, “How about I make us some Tarkalian tea, hm?” He says, looking over at you and smiling softly. You nod and both get up to head to the living room. The lights were still low, which you are grateful for since full brightness would definitely overstimulate you again at the moment. Julian walks you over to the couch, places a blanket around your shoulders, then goes over to the replicator. “Two Tarkalian teas, hot, extra sweet.” He states. He brings the steaming mugs over, placing one in your hand, before sitting down next to you and taking a sip from the other.
“Thank you.” You say sheepishly, a small smile crossing your face as you look over at him, both of your hands wrapped around the warm mug. “Of course, hun.” He says, offering a smile in return. “How’d you know what to grab?” You asked, your mind still not comprehending how he knew to open your secret stash of fidget items and headphones. “I apologize for opening your stuff, but you keep everything else so organized in our place that I figured it was the only place you’d keep them…I had autism before my parents genetically enhanced me. I used to get meltdowns all the time. I didn’t know why or what it was back then, of course.” He says, glancing over at you.
“It’s okay, you did it for the right reasons. No need to apologize. I didn’t realize that’s why your parents did that to you. Mine thought about it but couldn’t afford it. They were stuck with me like this.” You state, a golf-sized ball forming in your throat as you fought back tears again. You sniffle. “You’re perfect in every aspect, dear. Your parents are awful for not seeing that from the beginning.” Julian said, putting a hand on your face and rubbing his thumb over your cheek.
“We don’t have to talk about it right now; however, I’d love to know what accommodations we could make to have you feel more comfortable here and as well as during your shift. You don’t have to suffer in silence, (Y/N).” He says.
“I’ve never had any. I don’t need them.” You state defensively. “Love, I assure you they’d help and no one would think poorly of you. Ensign Winn needs hearing aids. Lieutenant Tyler has scheduled breaks due to his POTS. Just because you may need support doesn’t make you any less than you are. You got to your current rank because your crewmates and superiors saw you worthy of it.” Julian says, referring to two of your crewmates that you work closely with. You take a sip of tea, then set it down, staring out the window. “I got to where I am because they don’t know I have autism, Julian, because I’ve strived to seem as normal as possible. They wouldn’t like me very much if they saw the part of me that came out earlier today.” You gaze moving to the floor.
“You may not think so, however, you are here and who you are today because of every aspect of you. Not just some façade you think you’ve shown for years!” Julian says exasperatedly. He just couldn’t see how you couldn’t love yourself as much as he or any of your crewmates did. You were fed so many falsehoods about yourself all these years that you’d begun to think they were true.
“My parents started hitting me when I was 3 years old any time I had a meltdown. They’d put soap in my mouth if I started to scream. They’d constrain me if I started flapping my hands in public. If I covered my ears with my hands, they’d rip them off…” You rambled, not being able to stop yourself. You fought off the tears welling in your eyes, but they fell nonetheless. Anger welled inside Julian, how dare they act such a way to a child. He wanted to find your parents this very second; however, he knew he needed to be here for you. He swallowed the anger, burying it for a future issue of his to handle. He scooted closer, “Come here, love.” He said softly, encouraging you to sit on his lap. You obliged, moving over. He held you close as tears streamed down your face, and with each tear, every barrier you had built around yourself over the years began to crumble.
“Let’s get some rest, hm?” Julian said, “We can chat more tomorrow.” kissing your forehead. You didn’t argue; your body was heavy and tired. Your eyes lulled shut as you heard Julian softly hum and stroke your hair. ‘He really does love me…all of me’, you thought as you drifted off.
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