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yuhenglesbian · 11 months

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Nine Percent Reacting to Your Depression

Pairing: Nine Percent x Reader (multiple scenarios)

Requested by: Anon

Prompt: Nine Percent reacting to you confessing about your depression

Genre: Reactions; Bullet Point Scenario

Trigger Warning: Depression; Mentions of Self-Harm; Mentions of Self-Esteem Issues

Word Count: (total)

A/N: I’m only sticking to the confession and how they come to that point in this. The thing with depression is that there’s a lot of ways in which it plays out– depending on the individual and the type of depression (bipolar depression, for instance is different than unipolar depression in it’s symptoms). Also this feels mildly ooc for the members because honestly, I don’t know how China views depression and other such disorders so I don’t know how much they’d know about it.

Idk what you’re facing, dear anon who dropped this request but I hope you’re okay. If you need someone to talk to, always feel free to drop in. Love you and I’m sorry about delaying this so much.

Anon, this is so many years late, idek if you're still on tumblr but ah. This spiralled me into an episode of my own and then life got extremely busy. Here's what little I'd written until then, unedited mostly. I hope you're here with us still. Love you.

Cai Xukun:

Xukun found out when found you crying with the medication in your hands because you were too tired of all the medications and still having to deal with “this shit” as you described it to him. It wasn’t easy for you to tell him about it because you didn’t want to burden him with your problems when he was already dealing with so much– what with being the leader and center of Nine Percent and the lawsuit with his old company and crazy fans.

“Just because I have problems doesn’t mean I can’t listen to yours,” he told you when you tried to explain to him how you didn’t want to burden him. “You always listen to me, Y/N so it’s the least I can do.”

Before you knew it he was hugging you, patting your head, cooing gently because unbeknownst to you, you’d started crying at his words. Once you’d stopped crying, you told him everything– explaining everything slowly and as you best could.

“I’m sorry,” were the first words out of his mouth. “I know that doesn’t make things okay,” he continued, “and that there’s probably nothing I can do to make things okay. The only thing I can do is promise you that I’ll always be there if you want me around– even if I’m not physically there, I’ll always be there.”

Chen Linong:

Linong has always known– even if he didn’t know the exact words, he’s noticed and he tries his best to cheer you up when he notices that you’re in one of your blue moods.

It’s on the day that he finds you crying over your books because you feel so worthless and drained that he asks you why– “why are you crying, Y/N?”

It’s a simple question but he’s sitting next to you, his eyes full of concern and worry at how the person he loves is falling apart. “Why do you love me, Nongnong?” you ask him instead of asking, tears falling as you meet his eyes. “You could do so much better than my sad, pitiful ass. Why do you even love me when you deserve way better.”

The question shocks him and his worry hits the roof– this is a side he’s never seen, not with him in particular anyway. He knows you have bad days and days when things are hard but this– this is new, you’ve never doubted his love for you or your relationship before. “Because I do,” he tells you. “Why would you ask me something so sad– you know how much you mean to me, Y/N.”

“Because I am sad, Nongnong,” you say, wiping away tears, “and I feel like I’m always sad.”

He pulls you into a hug, rubbing your back gently. “Why?” he asks.

That’s when you explain to him– how you were diagnosed with clinical depression, the symptoms, how there’s nothing to make things better because “it’s all in my head for real because my head is a messed up place” and all the medication you need to take. He listens– not interrupting you even once as you explain things the best you can.

“It’ll be okay,” he says, quietly once you’re done. You open your mouth to protest, to tell him that they won’t but he cuts you off before you can. “I know they don’t seem like they will be– or maybe I don’t know enough about it to feel the way you do– but Y/N, you have to believe. Maybe they won’t permanently be okay but they’ll be better than how they are right now– you’ll feel better than you are now. Maybe it’ll take ages to even get to that point, but I’ll be here throughout the way. Even when things are hard, even when they’re good. I’ll always be here for you. So you don’t have to deal with this alone ever again, I promise, okay?”

Fan Chengcheng:

Fan Chengcheng knows depression– maybe not first hand– but he knows it because he’s seen too many of his sister’s famous friends deal with it. He’s read about it because no one would tell him and he’s felt himself relating to some of the symptoms on some days. So he knows depression.

He also knows you– he’s known you for a long, long time and the world would be damned if he can’t tell something is wrong with the person he’s loved for years. He’ll also be damned if he can’t recognise some of the symptoms he’s read about.

So when he drops the question to you– extremely casually, as if he was asking you about the weather– he’s hoping that it’s only his overactive thoughts and that you’re not actually going through it. The question and the casual tone shock you enough to ask how he knows, indirectly confessing.

His eyebrows furrow with concern. “Why didn’t you tell me, Y/N?” he asks you, his voice more serious than it had been just moments ago.

“There’s nothing to tell, Cheng,” you say, sighing. “You can’t do anything about it, can you?” you add, and he bites back whatever he was going to say.

“I know I can’t,” he concedes after a few minutes, “but at least I could have been there for you rather than you dealing with all of it alone– I’ve seen so many people deal with it, I know it isn’t easy for you and I’d want to be there for you no matter how bad things get. So please, Y/N, let me be there for you.”

Huang Minghao/Justin:

Minghao is worried– it’s been a week since you’ve showed even the slightest interest in anything he’s been saying– all you offer him anymore are indulgent, polite smiles and he’s slightly hurt and very worried because while he’s used to being treated like a child by everyone but he’s never had you treat him in this manner.

So when you smile at him and politely refuse to join him for a round of Counterstrike, it’s the final straw before he blows up.

“Just what is your problem!?” he asks, hotly. “Why are you of all people treating me like a child? Are you tired of me? Do you want me gone?”

The outburst leaves both of you silent and when you look up at him, he’s crying. “Hao,” you say softly, guilt seeping through you– you never wanted to hurt him.

“Don’t call me that,” he says, petulantly as he sits down on the seat in front of yours. “I’m mad at you. That nickname is a cheat.”

His childishness makes you smile your real smile for the first in the week. “Hao,” you try again, “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to hurt you like this at all.”

He turns to look at you, frowning slightly. “Then why’d you do it?” he asks. “Is everything okay?” he prompts when you don’t answer.

“Not really,” you reply honestly after a few minutes. “Everything isn’t alright.”

Minghao doesn’t respond, waiting patiently for an explanation that he knows he’s almost gotten out of you. You sigh, bracing yourself before you tell him about your depression and everything that comes with it– the lack of motivation to do anything and the constant feeling of loneliness and hopelessness that have been weighing you down all week among other symptoms that come and go as they please. He listens patiently, interrupting only when he needs an explanation for something.

There’s silence once you’re done as he processes things. “I’m sorry,” he says, after a few minutes have passed. “I didn’t know at all. I really thought you’d grown tired of me.”

You smile sadly and hug him. “I’d never be tired of you, Hao,” you tell him. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I was so caught up with myself, I didn’t realize I was hurting you.”

He pulls away, frowning. “Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault,” he says. “You didn’t ask to go through all this and I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you. I promise I’ll be a more reliable person for you from now so that you don’t have to feel like you’re fighting this alone ever again.”

Lin Yanjun:

When Yanjun walks in, your apartment is a mess and you’re nowhere in sight. It’s surprising because you usually keep everything organised– you love keeping things in place and making sure everything got done on time; it was something he’d always admired about you. He steps over the massive pile of shoes and crumpled paper near the door and invites himself inside deciding that something has happened and whatever it is, it is a pretty big deal to make such a slob of you.

He finds you curled up on the bean bag in the living room in front of an open television– which he switches off promptly, rolling his eyes part amazed at how good you are at falling asleep anywhere, anytime. You turn in your sleep, facing up and Yanjun notices the tear stains on your face. He frowns, his concern cementing.

“Y/N,” he whispers, shaking you gently.

You wake up almost immediately and he smiles. “Hey, sweetie,” he says, leaning closer and planting a kiss on your cheek, making you smile even though you’re tearing up at the gentleness with which he treats you.

“I’m so sorry,” you tell him, when he wordlessly wipes a tear away. “I’m a mess today,” you add, laughing half-heartedly.

“A hot mess,” he smirks playfully even as he pulls you into a comforting hug, his careful and concerned gestures making you cry even more. “What happened, baby?” he asks, when you don’t stop crying even at the greasiness of his pick up line. Something was definitely not right if you didn’t even tell him to stop using greasy pick up lines.

You sigh, wiping your eyes– a little too roughly for Yanjun’s comfort. “I hate this,” you tell him. “I hate how I am– how I’m feeling.”

Yanjun raises an eyebrow wordlessly, waiting for you to elaborate. “I hate being so fucking sad all the time,” you say, evidently angry. “I hate not having enough motivation to do anything. I hate crying all the time. I can’t even remember the last time I ate something which wasn’t ice cream from the freezer. I hate being depressed,” you go on, angry tears beginning to fall.

Yanjun instinctively hugs you, burying your face in his chest as he gently strokes your hair. “I hate it so much, Yanjun,” you say between sobs.

“I’m so sorry baby,” he coos, rocking you gently. “I’m so sorry you have to deal with so much and that I’m never there.”

“Please don’t leave me,” you mumble into his chest. “I know I’m sad and pathetic but please don’t leave. I don’t want you to leave.”

“I’m not leaving, Y/N,” he replies, kissing the top of your head and tightening the hug he has you in. “I’m never leaving. I love you and that means I’m here for your good and your bad, okay? I’ll always be here, baby.”

Zhu Zhengting:

Telling Zhengting isn’t hard. On the contrary, it’s probably the easiest thing you’ve done this week– it’s also the only decision you’re proud to have made. You’re not a believer of “our love can fix everything wrong” because it’s not true but when Zhengting pulls you close wrapping his arms around you and burying his nose in your hair– you let yourself believe that love can fix everything for a brief moment.

You’ve always known you were drawn to Zhengting partly because he was so caring: looking out for everyone around him came so naturally to him, you both resented and admired it. When he had extended that care to you, inevitably making you a part of his close-knit world, you’d fallen hard and fast– both thankful and flattered for the tender, careful manners with which he treated you.

It’s one of the few things you admit to him when you explain that you hadn’t meant to scare him when he comes over to your apartment– breathless and adamant, asking for an explanation for why you’ve drawn progressively away from him all month. It scares you a little, both the thought of losing him and the thought of him caring so much.

“Please tell me if you’re okay,” he pleads. “If it was something I did– just tell me. Please.”

It breaks you to hear how tired he sounds– how scared he sounds and your tears fall of their own accord after a month of running dry. They only fall faster when Zhengting pulls you into a hug, concern evident in his voice as he repeatedly asks you if you’re okay. “I’m sorry,” is all you can muster through the tears.

He sits with you, waiting patiently for you to stop crying and then making sure you’re hydrated as he makes an off-hand comment about all the takeout boxes in your kitchen. And then he waits some more as you explain everything you’ve felt over the past month– the repetitive thoughts telling you that you’re worthless, to give in and finally let go; the anxiety of not being wanted and of not being good enough and by the end of it, you’re crying again.

“I was so scared, Ting,” you admit between sobs that make his heart wrench in pain for you. All he can do is pull you into a hug because he doesn’t want to make unfaithful promises of things getting better when the future has always been so uncertain.

“I know, baby,” he mumbles, burying his nose in your hair. “I’m so sorry. I’m here now, okay? I’ll be here now– you don’t have do this alone anymore.”

Wang Linkai/Xiao Gui:

Telling Linkai is simple– explaining to him is even simpler. It surprises you for a little while when he listens to you quietly as you explain to him why you’ve been avoiding everyone and everything but the surprise soon gives way to realisation when you remember how much time he has spent around Xingjie and who he is as an artist.

“You could have told me sooner,” is all he tells you, however before he leaves almost as soon as you’re done explaining.

Linkai can’t lie to your face and he certainly can’t lie about two important things: He can’t tell you that you’ll necessarily be okay because he’s going to be there for you from here on out– that’s in the future and he can’t guarantee the future no matter how much he wants to. He also can’t lie and tell you that he isn’t hurt because he is. He’s hurt and angry that you didn’t trust him enough to tell him sooner even though he understands why you couldn’t have.

So he leaves. He aware that leaving without any explanations is the last thing he should do but he needs a walk to clear his head and sort his thoughts. All he can hope is that you don’t take his leaving in the wrong way and wait for a little while until he can find the right words to tell you.

It’s past midnight when he returns to your apartment, only to find you in the living room curled up on your couch cuddling with the cat he swears is your actual boyfriend. “Y/N,” he calls out, making you turn towards the door.

“Kaikai?” you stutter, your eyes glazing over with relief– you’d been so sure he was gone for good. You want to say something else but he crosses the room to pulls you into a hug– the type that he reserves only for really emotional events. “I love you,” he tells you.

Those are the only words he tells you for the rest of the night. He only hopes you can understand everything he wants to say but can only act on. He can’t do anything for you– he can’t make you empty promises like they do in movies because he knows only too well how unpredictable the future is and he can’t make you okay– but he can stay for as long as you need him. He hopes that his sincerity can reach you when he holds you closer as you fall asleep in his arms.

#nine percent #fari writes 💕#yuehua nex7 #ninepercentnetwork #nine percent reacts to your mental health #i dont remember other tags #anon asks #fic request #i wasn't going to post this #partly because i couldn't write wang ziyi and you zhangjing #but i read the note and just :( i hope you're okay anon #sending all the love <3 #cant find the ask w this request anymore ah.#anon i hope you're alright

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scriptura-adrepticius · 6 years

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Starry Night - Wang Ziyi

Don’t blame me, I got hit with inspiration yesterday and this was the result. I guess ‘Types of People’ is going to start sooner than I thought ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Pairing: Wang Ziyi x OC/reader

Series: Types of People

typewriter boy and firefly girl

credits to @95fahrenheit and @la-petitefille

Genre: fluff, drabble, domestic!au (I guess?)

Word Count: 865

Quiet nights with Ziyi are the best, especially when they’re spent stargazing and sharing kisses.

Masterlist | Drabbles | Types of People

there aren’t enough ziyi gifs :// idk how to credit this person? they’re not on tumblr, someone pls enlighten me

The night is quiet. You lie in bed with Ziyi, unable to sleep, simply staring at the wall. You’re pretty sure he isn’t asleep either, but you remain still and quiet in case he is.

“Xinsu?”

You blink a couple times, reminding yourself that you’re awake, and you hum a little in response. “Mm?”

“Can’t sleep?” Ziyi pulls the blanket, eliciting a little laugh from you as you roll over to face him. Your open eyes are enough to give him his answer. He sighs. “It’s two am.”

“But you’re awake too,” you point out. “You can’t say anything.”

“You’re right. You win,” Ziyi teases, running a large hand through your hair. You close your eyes in delight, the gesture calming you yet sending little shivers down your spine.

There’s a little silence, and then you speak. “I’m bored.”

The bed rustles a bit as Ziyi shifts into a more comfortable position. “Me too.”

Your lips curve into a little smile, and you lift your eyes to gaze at him. His eyes, sharp like daggers, stare back, but after years of learning about him, you no longer flinch. Instead, you keep smiling.

“Stargazing?”

Ziyi rolls his eyes. “Really?”

You continue to gaze at him, pleading your case with your soft eyes.

He sighs. “Fine.”

You smile widely, rolling out of bed. “Yes! Let’s go!”

Ziyi groans a little at your enthusiasm, but he too sits up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Within a few minutes, you two are dressed and heading outside.

One of the benefits of your apartment at the edge of the city, you think, is that you can see the stars much more clearly than if you’d picked one closer to center. Ziyi seems indifferent, but you can see in his eyes that he appreciates the view sometimes, though perhaps not as much as you.

The grass is cool but dry as you sit down, back against the tree. Ziyi sits down next to you, allowing you to rest your head against his shoulder.

“There’s Cygnus,” you whisper, pointing at the constellation. “And there’s Aquarius.”

Ziyi hums a little, but otherwise doesn’t respond.

A little time passes in this manner as you continue to quietly point out the constellations you recognize. Ziyi doesn’t say or do much, save for pressing a kiss to your forehead every so often, but you’re not worried. He’s a quiet soul, you think. He likes to show you his love through actions, not as much words. You like that.

Silence falls when you run out of constellations to show, and you feel your eyelids growing heavier as you lean into Ziyi.

“Sleepy?” Ziyi strokes your hair. “We can go inside.”

You shake your head. “Not yet.”

“Alright,” he consents. “Just a little longer.”

Ziyi’s messy hair is tickling your cheek. You scrunch your face before blowing it away, making Ziyi laugh as your breath hits his face. “You’re so cute,” he laughs, sliding an arm around your waist. You look up long enough for him to place a feather-soft kiss on your lips. A contented smile spreads across your face as you gaze at the stars yet again.

A question pops up in your mind, one you’ve wanted to ask before but kept forgetting to. “Ziyi,” you whisper, “how come you don’t like the stars?”

He adjusts his position, pulling you a little closer. “Whatever gave you that impression?”

“You never seem excited about stargazing,” you say. “And you never really say anything when we do.”

Ziyi’s chest rumbles in a little laugh. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like stars. I think they’re pretty.”

You stay silent, waiting for him to continue.

“But I also think they’re overrated.”

“Overrated?” You look up, confused at his choice of words. “Why?”

Wind ruffles Ziyi’s hair as he looks down at you. The slightest pink tints his cheeks, just visible to you by the moonlight. “Because,” he says, gazing at you sweetly, “they’re always praised for their beauty. But you’re more beautiful than they could ever be.”

Heat floods your face, and you can’t keep your gaze on Ziyi any longer. He doesn’t allow you to look away for too long though, tilting your chin up with his finger to stare into your eyes. “I’ve seen millions of stars,” he whispers, “but trust me, none of them shone as brightly as you did.”

“You’re making me blush,” you whisper futilely, the pink on your cheeks visible even in the dark night.

“I speak the truth.” Ziyi looks at you, his usually-sharp eyes softened and full of love. “You’re enchanting, Xinsu. When I met you, I was hypnotized for the rest of the day because of the way you just… lit up the room. You lit up my life.”

Words aren’t coming to you at the moment, so you give up trying to respond verbally in favor of pressing your lips to his sweetly, gently, just how he always is around you.

“And you lit up mine,” you whisper, eyes shining. “I love you, Ziyi.”

Ziyi’s eyes twinkle as he stares back at you. “I love you too.”

And under the starry night sky, you share another kiss.

#ninepercentnet #nine percent #idol producer #nine percent scenarios #nine percent wang ziyi #wang ziyi #fluff #drabble #domestic!au #wang ziyi scenarios #simply joy music entertainment #types of people #starry night #scriptura-adrepticius

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