#dysthymia x reader

[shuckinbeanz]

Three's a Charm

warnings/notes: NSFW, spoilers about one of the endings, spoilers about Sym's full name and species, spoilers about dys, dys is an embo it's a new word I made up for the emo himbo, just started finkin bout Dys n triplets with reader so here's some hcs and snippets. this turned into an very long simp-fest somewhere along lmao so lots of very kinky snu-snu, bits about Sym being a GodGardenfather included bc he loves kids, and tidbits ab Dys being a dad :3

MINORS 👏 DNI! 👏 AGE 👏 IN 👏 BIO 👏 OR 👏 DNI! 👏 Head on over to @candybowbeansies please for my SFW pieces, or be blocked if you interact here! 😇

Tags: @dynamightsdaydream

-first things first it took a bit of convincing 

-he was wary at first bc of his mom and how would he be a good dad, out for months at a time????

-but like at the same time, he understood, ya'know??? sweet lil u, always as touch starved as he is when he returns to the colony, he always feels so bad when he leaves you behind, and believe me when I say he tried to stay. it did not go well at all, he was literally teetering overhead a mental meltdown so you had to kick him out for his own mental health.

-bbs that smell like him and resemble him would soothe you and his worry about leaving you without a piece of him 🥰

-everybody thought y'all would be one of the first parents and making more after you made that deal with the gardeners, because of how clingy of a couple you two were, literally joined by your hands and how much time you two spent alone together

-y'all lmfao I don't think you know bc of his chronic wanderlust and how he's away months at a time, but my man has high libido and saying that is a literal understatement 

-he is obsessed with you, like borderline yandere but even that's pushing it

-he melts under your touch, he's so dependent on your love

-majority of the time this escalates from cuddling to mating like animals bc like I said, high libido

-when he returns from expeditions, expect to be fucked out, every night until dawn, for a freaking week at least istg 😩

- ^^^ this is why you both got contraceptive implants, like the best ones which can be removed at any time

-he can't get enough, especially if you cling to him during sex like your life depended on him. his heart, his soul, his brain, his body, everything is on overdrive bc he so badly wants to love and be loved back with every fiber of his being, only way he knows how is fucking your brains out pls 😭😭

-man is very handsy behind closed doors, always touching and groping you like it's the very first time, and if you were the same? if he could, he'd have hearts in his eyes 

-he likely knows your body better than he knows his, so expect him to tenderly overwhelm you into squirting

-first time he made you squirt, he made it his mission to go above and beyond

-praise kink go brrr--

"Thaaaat's it, beautiful. F-Fuckin'-oh, hahh--squirt f'me, pretty baby, please?"

"Sh-Show me, sugarbug. Please, baby, show me--ooh, h-how good I make you feel."

-due to his augmentation, he's literally not afraid of anything, even pain

-so fucking overstimulate him

-he lives for your touch, so have your way with him milk him dry, it's all the same to him, long as you touch him, he's so hungry for your attention to the point of self destruction

-he's a cheeky bastard so you gotta work for it at first 

-you never thought a man could squirt until you gave in and gave him what he wanted so desperately

"Fucking--just touch me, already, I can take it, oh stars--you know I can, Y/N, please!"

" 'til 'm shootin' blanks, fuckin' stars, s-s'good!"

-his tears are God tier, like chef's kiss gorgeous

-pretty onyx hues glassy n rolling to the back of his head 🥺

-you were genuinely surprised how intense his orgasm was, n how much cum came squirtin out of him and how far the shot went omg 🥵

-don't remind him, he's still embarrassed that he passed out after that poor bb😭

-any position you can think of, you are you and he wants you for as long as possible.

-despite his initial weariness of knocking you up, he goes full throttle when it's time. it's breeding season, honey.

-when you tell him, 'daddy, plant your seed~' when he's balls deep in your cunt, all train of thought comes to a crashing wailing halt. he completely loses all rhyme or reason, everything except for breeding like a goddamn jack rabbit thrown right out the fucking window. he won't let you go until it takes.

Curses pass his lips like a mantra; he's close, again. He has you caged down in a mating press like an animal, mounted on your overworked wriggling form, his cock bullying your cervix you could almost swear was starting to bruise. You've creamed and been creamed so many times, you've completely lost count. You can only squeal for his baby juice and claw at him the nth time he empties his load and uselessly kick your legs in the air as the sheer weight of his cock sends you over the edge yet again, your cock-drunk babbles only spurring him on.

Your husband was obsessed with you…and it turns out he's hidden a huge breeding kink without either of you knowing about it.

He won't let you go, oh stars, no-he has stamina for days. Not until he either starts shootin' blanks, or passes out. It's highly likely the latter.

You want that baby, right, sugarbug? Keep clinging to him like your life depends on it. Vertumna, just keep begging for his seed, it sends him over the edge every damn time. Never fuckin' fails.

-and oh boy, does it ever take. his sperm count is on the high side and he's a very healthy specimen, and you don't find this out until a few weeks along in your pregnancy

Symbiosis was incredibly taken by your pregnancy. He was a very close friend, always there to help you with your morning sickness among just about every other thing, and a huge cuddle buddy when your hormones started going out of whack. You were hot, then you were cold, both in the physical and emotional sense, and Sym was just the right temperature and ever-patient. It was cute, really, how awestruck he was by your growing belly.

He was incredibly supportive, easily sliding into the position of God-or Gardenfather, rather-of the life inside you quite perfectly, even more so after Dysthymia left a month after the news of success, succumbing to his innate wanderlust.

It wasn't until Sym asked, one day, if you were supposed to grow this fast. The colony had yet to see a pair of twins, and this being your first pregnancy, fear and worry for the worst settled into your bones, and a visit to med bay later, you found you were having not twins…

But healthy triplets, courtesy of your husband's fecundity.

Sym was excited, and that was an understatement. One of the two humans he loved dearly carried not one, not two, but three precious offspring. One of the many reasons he'd put his very existence on the line for, to see your lovely species proliferate. You and your husband proved not so long ago to him, his trust in you was not mistaken; it was well appreciated. 

It was about one week later when Dys returned, to see you as heavy as he remembers Tammy, when she was later along, and if he didn't lose track of time, you were nearing the end of your first trimester, and just moving onto your second.

You were curled up right beside Sym, completely conked out with evidence of crying on your face, tissues and snacks long abandoned in favor of much needed sleep. The alien was wide awake, hand still in the rhythm of comforting strokes along your back. 

It's juvenile of him, he knows, but Dys feels a spark of jealousy briefly ignite in him, seeing you so comfortable in someone else's arms. It's quickly overridden by wonder, however, when he sees just how pregnant you are as he approaches quietly. 

The familiar earthy musk that wafts into the room has your nose doing a bunny twitch. Your pregnancy has heightened some of your senses, if not all; your sense of smell being one of them. In your waking moments, he glances to Sym questioningly. How in Vertumna did you get this big? Was he gone that long??

In turn, the Gardener gave a cryptic smile as you outstretched your arm, drowsily latching onto your husband, almost instinctively. You knew his scent by heart. "Dyyyyys…" you croaked hoarsely. 

"Hello, beautiful." he greets you with a smile, and you only hum contentedly. Sym, out of habit, helps guide your form towards Dys-something he'd picked up from being by your side from the moment he learned you were carrying.

"Whoa, there, I just got home." he starts as you awkwardly koala hug him and attempt to bring him back down with you, "I need to shower, babe." propping himself up, mindful of your belly. You scrunch your face before sleepily crooning an "I don't caaaare…"

"Well, I do. It'll give you a moment to wake up, and when I'm done, I can tell you what happened out there after you tell me what happened here, okay?" he tells you, leaning down to plant a sweet kiss on you, which you return after a brief few moments. 

"Okay?" he repeats softly against your lips, and you hum in reply, finally letting him go with a soft, happy "Welcome home."

-when he learns he planted triplets in you, he will go through so many emotions at once. there's the masculine thrill of he's knocked up his sweet obsession so heavily and the possessive pride that you're carrying his kids, plus the worry what if something goes wrong, especially if he's away??? stars, beautiful! everything is very overwhelming, especially the fact your growing tummy does things to him

-you thought he was handsy before? you are in for a surprise, especially when he feels them move/kick/punch for the first time

-pregnancy sex

-please for the love of Vertumna don't deprive him of lovin'! getting you off is his love language

-if he wasn't fascinated with your tits before oh boy he is now

-watching your tits plump up with milk he's mesmerized

-he learns very quickly your nipples are uber sensitive so he pays very special attention to them

-when you're full and sore and leaking go to him, he's so skilled with his hands he will make you cum from your tits alone he's got a lactation kink but he won't admit it 

Your chest heaves as you pant heavily, still shivering from the aftershocks from the nipple orgasms your husband put you through, thick dribbles of milk still oozing from each one-though not as much as before, his hands having given you relief from carrying too much of the substance.

"You're so gorgeous, Y/N." you hear him praise you, as he takes your trembling legs and hoists them onto one shoulder. "Ready, beautiful? Need to give you some love here, too." he says, and a moment later you feel his heavy cock head against your pulsing entrance. 

You weakly wiggle your hips, impatient for him to fill you up already. He laughs softly, nudging against your eager hole before sliding in. You croon and he all but shudders as your gummy insides greedily pull him in; and he's happy to oblige, sinking balls deep into your pregnant cunt.

"Hhh--fuck, gimme a moment, pretty…" he huffs, his hand traveling to caress your tummy. 

-he's low-key dreading the time you pop, knowing full well how it is it's excruciating and he hates it when you're in pain outside controlled bedroom activities 

-as you're carrying the colony's first set of triplets, he's banned from med bay along with all other non-medical personal 

-anxiety

-and that's an understatement

-man will pace

-and he will get worse with every cry and wail

-paranoia 

-not even Sym can stop him when he hears the sound of your final exhausted scream followed by his third bb starting to wail with their older siblins ssob 🥺

"Let me through!" he shouts. "Dys, I don't think it's wise, man. I know how you--" "No! You don't, so don't even--" he argues with Cal defensively, grabbing his shirt. In turn, Cal's hands fly up peaceably, with a sheepish 'Now, I ain't trying to fight, dude.' which earns him a shove. "Dys, they will be okay." Sym tries to placate him.

"Don't you start, too, Sym." he meets the alien with uncharacteristic sharpness, a surge of agitation rushing through him, heart thrumming against his ribcage anxiously.

Never again. You sounded like you were in agony.

"They need me, they just gave birth to my kids, for Vertumna's sake!" he swears, pushing his way through.

No more kids, even if you wanted them. If the outcome hurts you, never again.

He was worried half to death. "I need to see if they're oh--" he opens the door, trailing off as he sees you.

Your tired, puffy red eyes lift from the triplets, one in each arm and one dozing off on your chest. You smile sweetly at him, and his pattering heart skips a beat. Calling you beautiful would be an understatement. 

Before he knows it, he's by your side, Tammy's giggles and Instance's muttering be damned. He does offer a glance to his twin. Tang simply shrugs her shoulders, nodding to you and the three you held.

The room is then emptied, leaving only him, you, and the amalgamation of your love. He kisses your sweaty temple, gazing in awe at the three wrinkly little wonders. They were smaller than he thought they'd be.

You eventually rest your eyes, smiling serenely, content with the silence. So small and fragile…he was almost afraid to touch them. Almost, but for the most part, uneasy and insecure.

He couldn't get his eyes off of them. One begins to squirm for a brief few moments, and you huff softly, looking up to him then down to the newborns, so much love in your gaze. 

Very hesitantly, he reaches out a finger to the fitful one, the other two sound asleep. The newborn latches onto his finger, turns their head with a soft grunt, and opens their eyes.

Their sweet hues were crossed, and the toothless grin that plasters into their face? It's priceless. He feels a hole in him fill right up, and tears begin to form.

What did he do to deserve such precious things? 

You've given him the greatest gifts he could ever receive, and then some.

-after he officially enters fatherhood, you will notice things change in him.

-it's gradual and these changes start off small, but they are there

-and the first one is he smiles more

-he's smitten with his triplets, always distracting himself with them when you need to sleep.

-he's in over his head at first, but with Sym's guidance from being a nanny for gaggles of kids, he soon learns the ropes

It's only been a few minutes since he's managed to put them to sleep, and he himself was especially tired. He can't help but continue watching the three infants resting on his arm, the heaviness of exhaustion becoming all the more apparent as his eyes burn for sleep. 

Sleep.

It's only been a few months since the trio was born, but he's come to realize many things. 

Each one of them, in their own ways, filled in the cracks that had formed within him throughout his life.

They, alongside you, made him feel more human. 

The moment he saw you on the medical bed holding them, he knew he was enough, just as he was. The colony wasn't a cage, but a nest-a safe place for him you've kept throughout the years, always welcoming him back with open loving arms.

The wall he built, taller and taller; it doesn't crumble into nothing. He's free to come and go, at any point. He simply chooses to stay longer. You needed him. The triplets needed him. 

The four of you always brought new discoveries, and he was eager to explore the family dynamic. 

The oldest grunts just as he's about to doze off, and he flicks on his holopalm to record from habit, onyx hues wide and wakeful, now. A few moments pass, followed by the slow stretch of tiny limbs, and…

'Da…' a soft, but unmistakable word sounds. Pure joy blooms from his heart, his free hand flying to cover his mouth. He stares at the blip that was recording him and the trio, eyes becoming damp. He slides his hand down, and whispers;

"Did you hear that, beautiful? C/N's first word…they're dreamin', baby."

-he is always prepared to document their milestones, no matter how small when he's in the colony

-know how kids usually scream for the parent who was pregnant with them?

-well

-these three scream for Daddy when they throw fits.

-it's like they have a built-in 'Dad's home!' radar, too. and this means most of their tantrums are thrown when it's time for Dys to come home. they're MENACES istg 😭

"NOOOO!!!" the most powerful set of lungs of the trio wails indignantly, Sym's placating voice drowned out into the background, the other two sobbing for their father, huddled up against their triplet.

This builds up for a few days, and they eventually break out of the creche and scamper off to the gates, demanding their dad like the people there can make him come home sooner. Once in a blue moon, he's late, and it takes a lot of work on his part to calm them down.

This usually leads to an exhausted Dysthymia completely conked out with three equally as tired kids cradled by him. And this will happen anywhere in the colony, so you always find yourself guarding their precious nap. They don't get to see each other for months at a time, after all. 🥺

#i was a teenage exocolonist #teenage exocolonist #teen exo #i was a teenage exocolonist smut #teenage exocolonist smut #teen exo smut #teen exo dys x reader #dysthymia x reader #teen exo dysthymia x reader #teen exo dys smut #teen exo dysthymia smut

[candybowbeansies]

Dys & Sym-Nicknames

warnings/notes: just cute nicknames for Dys and Sym and by Dys and Sym 🥺👉👈 there's also a spicy one for Dys bc I couldn't resist 🤤 their reactions are so cuteeee 😩 ending spoilerish for Sym, and brat taming implied for Dys, but nothing explicitly NSFW!

Dys 🥺

Dys calls you;

Beautiful

Pretty boy/girl/baby

Sweetheart (when he's feeling a bit frisky, ohg imagine his soft sexy grin 😩 or better yet…make it feral 🥵)

Constellation (goes hand in hand* with your nickname for him; you are a healing presence for him, as the nicknames suggest)

You call Dys;

Handsome

Growing up being fed compliments by his sweetheart does wonders for a guy who hates his own name. Contrary to popular belief, my man does not have low self esteem. He's a hunk and he knows it. You'd get a smug smirk, a brief flash of pearly whites. 🥺

Babygirl/boy

Thinks you're mocking him at first, but when it settles and he knows you mean it affectionately, his cheeks will go pink, followed by a half hearted eye roll 🙄 Ever the drama queen, this man, I swear. 😂

Big D

Hooo, boy. The innuendo in this one. My personal favorite! The first time you call him this, it takes a few moments to sink in lmfao then he'd turn a lurid hue and choke on his spit. 🤣

"Y-You--!" he chokes, teeming with embarrassment. "Better not ca--all me that, in front of oth-ers!"

But if you're bratty like meeeee 🥵 Call him that in front of his twin--the difference is huge

"Sweetheart, what did I say about calling me that in front of others?" 

Blow raspberries at him and call him that one more time. The feral smirk he makes, his onyx hues impossibly darker…y'all better run. His mood changes for the rest of the day. When night comes, you heathens can run but nothing can hide from him. Expect to be hauled somewhere private for a taming of a lifetime 🥴

My Glow (goes hand in hand* with his nickname for you; he's a healing presence for you, as the nicknames suggest)

Sym 🥺

Sym calls you;

Sugarbug/Lovebug

Hopeye

Little one

Love

You call Sym;

Sweet boy

And

Sugarbun

because Sym is so freakin' sweet. He's kind, understanding, has literally never ending patience. The best boyfrenn anyone could ask for 🥺

Mushwood (bc he’s so freakin tol 😂)

Dearest 🥺

Hecklebee (comes from one of his endings)

because he's so jovial, it's contagious! He finds the fun in virtually everything. There's never a boring moment w him. 🥺

#i was a teenage exocolonist #teenage exocolonist #teen exo #teen exo sym x reader #teen exo dys x reader #symbiosis x reader #dysthymia x reader #teen exo symbiosis x reader #teen exo dysthymia x reader

[starlessea2]

New chapter out! 

Chapters: 3/21 Fandom: I Was a Teenage Exocolonist (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Dys/Sol (I Was a Teenage Exocolonist), Dys & Sym (I Was a Teenage Exocolonist), Dys & Sol (I Was a Teenage Exocolonist), Sol & Sym (I Was a Teenage Exocolonist) Characters: Dys (I Was a Teenage Exocolonist), Marz (I Was a Teenage Exocolonist), Tammy (I Was a Teenage Exocolonist), Cal (I Was a Teenage Exocolonist), Anemone (I Was a Teenage Exocolonist), Tangent (I Was a Teenage Exocolonist), Sym (I Was a Teenage Exocolonist) Additional Tags: Romance, Science Fiction, Fanfiction, Fanfic, Canon Divergence, Sweet endings, Angst, Fluff, Dys more like dysfunctional, Dys is a simp for sol, Sol just wants one good life Summary:

It’s happening again. Sol loves Dys for another life, whilst Dys is burdened by his name. Except this time, the threads are coming loose. Things change by the subtlest of stitch, and the pieces fall effortlessly into place. This lifetime is different.

Just this once, Dys decides to fully give himself to Sol.

OR.

“I might have lived countless lifetimes, but I’ve loved you in every one.” “Yet you, Dys? You’ve stayed with me through none.”

#i Was a Teenage exocolonist #exocolonist #teenage exocolonist #i was a teenage exocolonist dys #exocolonist dys #dys #i was a teenage exocolonist fanfiction #fanfic #Fanfiction #exocolonist fanfiction #dys x reader #dysthymia

[aikoiya]

Arcane Prompt - JayVik x Female Who Struggles With Emotional Blunting

JayVik x Fem!Reader who struggles with dysthymia, her symptoms being anhedonia (lack of enjoyment), apathy, & lack of motivation. Generally very stoic due to past trauma, she's working through it slowly.

This tends to make her a very level-headed, down-to-earth, rational, logical, & reasonable person, who tries to see both sides of an argument before making decisions. She operates on logic & is a very introspective person. Is often the mediator in fights due to these things. Often, she will sit down with one side of the argument to listen to their perspective before approaching the other side to relay their feelings in a way that the other can understand. Then, she'll listen to the other argumentor to get their perspective & feelings before relaying that to the first in a way that they can hopefully understand as well. All the while giving comfort when needed.

This tends to make her come across as a bit of a busy body & nosy, but honestly, she just wants people to understand each other.

In this way, she becomes a middlewoman or fight translator.

Very much enjoys debate, especially civilized debate where both sides are open to each others' arguments & willing to admit when the other has a point, thus adjusting their perspectives accordingly. Is quite skilled in diplomacy, but does not dance around issues. Instead being very forthright & honest, at times even being very blunt.

Will give a little chuckle of appreciation if she thinks a joke is clever or witty enough even if it didn't quite strike her funny bone.

Has high emotional intelligence or intuition due to the years of her trying to overcome her own lack of emotions despite having very low empathy. Legitimately wants to be a good person if for no other reason than because she wants to.

Despite having blunted emotions, she tries to be an empathetic & compassionate person despite typically not feeling much for those around her. Going out of her way to try & understand the perspectives of those around her.

She can feel, just not very much unless a chord has been struck inside her just right.

Like, you know you're funny if you have her breathless & in tears from laughing. I can see Jayce & Viktor both becoming enamored with her genuine laugh & becoming determined to make her make that sound as much as possible.

Though, on the flipside, when she cries, she's very quiet & tries to refrain from making sound. A silent sufferer.

Or when, like say, a new installment of her absolute favorite book series comes out & she becomes a giggly, wiggling mess to express her excitement.

Other than in these specific situations, her emotions are little more than twinges.

Sassy & kind, enjoys making dry jokes because even if she has trouble feeling, she likes to see others smile & laugh.

If either of her boys are going through things, pays expressed attention to them & makes sure that they know that she's there for them. Making herself emotionally available for them. Is well versed in the art of comforting & easily steps into the spot of someone's rock. Even if all they let her do is sit there with them quietly, holding their hand as they process their emotions.

Her motivation is very, very low due to her condition, so it takes a herculean effort on her part to move forward. Despite that, her determination is insane, so that helps. However, because of this, her forward progression feels empty at times.

She resents her emotional bunting, wishing that she could feel more as she finds that it hampers her enjoyment of life. Yet, despite this, she still tries to live her life as full as possible.

Studies psychology & neurology in an attempt to better understand herself & others.

Because of this, Reader is very, very against Viktor getting rid of his emotions. It's one of the few times that she actually feels the heat of real anger in her chest because it's like he thought her struggles were inconsequential.

So, she laid it out like he was a 3 year old. No emotions means no motivation or desires. No motivation or desires means no moving unless you have to. Then, if he actually manages to get rid of all his physical needs (which is impossible with the current level of technology; as it stands, organic brains are still FAR superior to anything technology could make for information storage, data processing, logic, & problem solving, at least in terms of space; which would mean that he'd still need blood, oxygen, food, & sleep to keep his brain alive & healthy due to the brain being made of cells & cells require oxygen to work correctly, while the brain requires fuel from food, which is broken down into usable nutrients by the stomach & then brought to the brain via the blood; meaning he requires, at the very least, his brain, heart, lungs, & stomach), he won't move at all unless he has an internalized program forcing him to do things. At which point, he'll have stripped away his own free will, turning himself into a big, metal puppet.

Reader: "If you won't listen to the woman who personally experiences a lack of emotion & struggles with it daily, wishing with what little want that she can muster that she could really, truly enjoy life again. Then, maybe you'll listen to the woman who's been studying the human mind for years & can back up what she says with scientific facts. Oh, wait! They're both me! Maybe emotions do color one's logic, but only if you let them control you rather than the other way around. It's better than living a drab, colorless life where nothing really, truly matters to you! I live in quiet dread that I might one day wake up & feel absolutely nothing for anyone or anything especially you & Jayce. I can live with your other augmentations. I'll miss your skin & your warmth & your heartbeat, but I'll move on eventually if you get rid of them, but please, Viktor, don't get rid of your emotions!"

All as quiet tears slowly begin to trickle down her cheeks.

Viktor will have never seen her so distressed before in all the time they've known each other.

#arcane #league of legends #viktor #jayce talis #jayvik #viktor x fem!reader #jayce x fem!reader #jayvik x fem!reader #female reader #mental disorders #emotional blunting #dysthymia #anhedonia #apathy #lack of motivation #writing prompt

[acedesigns]

Medication [Good Omens: Aziraphale X Depressed!Reader]

Word Count: 369

Warning: Depression, nothing too major

A/N: Short little something. I struggle with taking my medications because of my depression. So I wrote this to go back to when I don’t want to take my medicines. Hopefully, it can help someone else out, too!

--

“[Y/N], my dear?” Aziraphale called.

You glanced up from the book you were reading. “Yes?”

Aziraphale walked over around the couch and sat next to you. “I couldn’t help but notice, you got this medication filled a few months ago, and it still has some pills in it,” Aziraphale said slowly and held out the orange bottle towards you. Small clacks sounded when he moved it. “Are you taking your medication as prescribed?”

You pursed your lips together. With a sigh, you put your bookmark in its spot and moved the book to the coffee table. You pulled your socked feet up on the couch so your knees were to your chest. With a shake of your head, you buried your face into your knees.

“How come?” Aziraphale gently pried.

“I…” you gulped down the knot that was forming in your throat. “I don’t deserve them.”

Aziraphale felt his heart clench painfully. He put the bottle down on the table and moved closer to you. One of his arms slung around your shoulder and his other around your legs. He pulled into a warm and tight hug.

“My dear, you deserve them. You deserve to be happy and healthy,” he whispered softly. “And that’s what they help with. They help you to be happy and healthy.” He heard a sob force its way from your throat. Slowly, the man started to rock you back and forth. “You’re such a wonderful person. You’re kind and generous. You always brighten my day.” He placed a kiss into your hair. “The part of you that is saying that you don’t deserve them is lying to you.”

“You think so?” you whimpered.

“I know so,” Aziraphale said so sure of himself. “How about, every night, I help you take your medication?”

You pulled away from him and looked up at him. He was smiling softly at you. He reached a hand up to your face and gently wiped the tears away. Slowly, you nodded your head and leaned back into him. He re-wrapped his arms around you and held you close to him.

“I love you, [Y/N], my most wonderful and amazing [Y/N],” Aziraphale said softly while pressing another kiss into your hair.

#Good Omens #Mental Health #Medication #Medicine #Mental Illness #Depression #Dysthymia #Dysthymic disorder #Major Depressive Disorder #Double D #I have double d #Seasonal Depression Disorder #Aziraphale #Aziraphale X Reader #X Reader #Angst #Fluff #comfort #Reader #Reader Insert #Oneshot #One shot #Fanfiction #Fanfic #Fan Fic #Fan Fiction #I'll hopefully write a lot this weekend because I'm honestly not knowing how Saturday will go #I'm honestly expecting to get punched or something #so hospital??? #But that'll inspire a fanfic~

[sergeantxrogers]

| the way i see things |

“Baby- baby, oh my God, I thought something happened to you-“

The frantic voice sent daggers of pain throughout your skull, and you winced as you brought a hand to the back of your head. The words came to you through a fog, your ears ringing as your eyes focused on the man in front of you.

“I’m… I think I’m okay… who are you?”

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: Angst, memory loss/short-term amnesia, mentions of blood and explosions, Bucky being heartbroken basically

Part two: dysthymia

____________________

“Please, Torres,” you rolled your eyes, “this is the fourth bank they’ve robbed this month. You’d think they’d start killing by now, but they haven’t. Why?”

You asked the question as you tightened the halter carrying your gun, without giving him time to answer. Lifting your head up to meet the boy’s worried eyes, you gave him a shrug.

“Because they don’t want to. It’s that simple.”

Torres sighed, shoulders slumping as he scrambled out of his chair. Your boots thumped heavily against the floor of the van as you climbed down, eyes catching Sam and Bucky waiting for you.

Fumbling for something to say, Torres stumbled out of the van after you.

“I still think it’s a dangerous idea,” he called, and you let out a soft sigh as you turned around to face him. 

Before you could reply, Bucky’s voice sounded from behind you. “I think it’s dangerous, too, but she’s stubborn as a bull.”

The words died on your tongue and you pursed your lips. With an over exaggerated turn of your head, you narrow your eyes at Bucky. “Shush. Nobody asked you anything.”

A snort left his lips, and he came up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and rested his chin on the top of your head. “I’m just lookin’ out for you, baby.”

“I know, Buck,” you said through a sigh. “I’ll be fine, I always am.”

You felt him nod against your head. In the same moment, Sam called for the two of you to “knock it off and get over here already.” Clicking your tongue, you winked at Torres before Bucky grabbed your hand, dragging you over to where Sam stood.

“Everybody ready?” Sam asked, inclining his head towards the van, and you nodded.

“Yup. Torres is monitoring all rooms and hallways, heat signals too.”

“Good. They were already here, and they’ve probably all left by now but you can never be too sure.”

Bucky agreed, giving your hand a small squeeze before letting it fall back at your side. You kept your eyes on him, studying him as he checked the time on his watch, then moved on to checking and rechecking all his weapons. Eyes finding yours, he did a double take as a smile started growing on his features.

“What is it?”

You smiled back, shaking your head. “Nothin’. You’re just overdue for another haircut, Barnes.”

“Only if you’re the one giving it.”

“Aren’t I always?”

The small bell rang as the door opened, a waft of cool air drifting into the salon and over your feet. Heavy footsteps and the door shutting behind them tore your attention from the Cosmopolitan magazine you were reading, leg thrown lazily over the other on the small couch in the corner.

Your eyes travelled upwards, from his boots, to his black jeans, to the leather jacket enveloping his shoulders, then finally, to his face. Familiar. Hesitant, with a barely-there smile on his features, the man stood awkwardly beside the front desk. Snapping out of your stupor, you slammed the magazine shut before throwing it onto the table. 

Shooting up from the couch, you gave him a gracious smile. “H-hi, how can I help you?”

Stupid question. It was a stupid question. Obviously, he was here for a haircut.

“I thought it was time to finally- uh, do something about this,” he said, gesturing to his hair. 

“You dropped by without an appointment, I presume?”

His blue eyes widened a fraction as he swallowed. “Appointment?”

You nodded. The more you stared at him, the more familiar he seemed. The way he carried himself, cautious and unsure, yet ready to spring. The faint Brooklyn drawl to his words, and the hands fidgeting in his jacket pockets. A series of pictures flashed behind your eyes: signing Stark Industries files with the confidential stamp all over them, whispers between agents in the tower, word of the Winter Soldier and Captain America reuniting, Tony telling you not to worry about it as he slides you another document to fax, copy or sign.

“You’re- you’re Sergeant Barnes? Aren’t you?”

The man in front of you froze for a second, as if he was contemplating running, or at the very least, lying. He then sighed, eyes flickering downwards as he nodded.

“Cool.”

The singular word made him look up at you, shock obvious all over his features. 

“Nice to finally meet you.”

“Finally meet me?”

“Well, I’ve read so much about you, it feels like I know you already.”

You hold your hand out. “I’m Y/N.”

He glances at your hand, then back up at you. Slowly taking your hand in his, he gave you a small smile. 

“Call me Bucky.”

_____

“Y/N, check,” Torres’ voice crackled through your earpiece.

“Check.”

Sam and Bucky checked theirs, then nodded at you.

You headed left after stepping through the shattered remains of the door. Keeping your hand steady over your gun on your hip, you made your way with quiet steps on the linoleum towards the vault. The heavy door was already ajar, and it didn’t take much for you to push it open all the way, grunting slightly with the weight. Stepping in, you spared a glance behind you. Bucky and Sam were nowhere in sight, stalking through their own respective areas of the empty bank. 

Your earpiece crackled again, and you paused, tapping it once, twice, with a frown. Weird. Continuing deeper into the vault, an eerie silence fell over you, blanketing the air around you. Even your footsteps sounded muffled as they echoed along the high walls. A deep, dull thud sounded from somewhere in the bank, outside the vault, and goosebumps pricked your arms. Senses on high alert, breath quickening, you turned in your place a couple times, scanning the walls around you. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

If you concentrated hard enough, you could almost hear someone calling your name. And a low beeping.

Your earpiece crackled.

The beeping became more frequent.

Your head turned back as you heard your name being called- no, screamed- again.

“Bucky...?”

You squinted as you saw his figure running down the long hallway of the bank, calling for you.

Something was wrong.

You took a step towards the door.

The incessant beeping became one, long beep.

You opened your mouth to say something, to call back to Bucky, but before the first word fell from your lips, a force hit your chest, pulling the air from your lungs. The same force hit your head, your ears buzzing numbly as you fell back, almost in slow motion, arm outstretched in front of you for something, anything, as the blast threw you across the room.

A wave of heat tore through you, over you, around you, filling every crevice of your body as you fought and struggled for breath. A sharp pain in the back of your head made you cry out, eyes seeing stars as you fluttered them shut. 

_____

“Baby- baby, oh my God, I thought something happened to you-”

The frantic voice sent daggers of pain throughout your skull, and you winced as you brought a hand to the back of your head. The words came to you through a fog, your ears ringing as your eyes focused on the man in front of you.

“I’m... I think I’m okay... who are you?”

Wincing again once you brought your hand back and saw the blood coating your fingers, you missed the way his face fell, the way his skin went pale and eyes went dull.

“W-what?” he whispered, and you almost didn’t catch it.

Letting out a pained groan, head still pounding, you sat up slowly, leaning back against the wall, as you took everything in.

The air smelled of smoke, and it was everywhere around you, too. Debris particles floating around you and coating your boots, your hair, your clothes. Your clothes. Combat clothes. Why were you in combat clothes? 

Glancing over the man’s shoulder, your brows furrowed in confusion as you saw the wall, or lack thereof, behind him. All that was left were a few crumbled bricks along the floor, scraps of metal littered across the tiles. 

“What did you say?” 

His question brought your focus back on him, his voice scratchy and quiet as he studied your face.

“I said I think I’m fine... I have a killer headache but I don’t know why. Or where I am. Could you help me, please?”

Bucky’s world crumbled around him. He was hearing your voice as if from the other end of a tunnel, seeing your eyes as if through a telescope. The pain he felt in his chest was almost physical, unbearable and tearing him from the inside out. It became hard to breathe. Not because of the smoke, no. But because of the fact that you seemed so lost, and so confused as to how you got where you were, and who he was. It killed him.

Opening and closing his mouth a few times, he had no idea what to say. He hoped it was a bad dream.

“Y/N?” 

Both your heads turned towards the vault door, where Sam stood in the dissipating smoke, tendrils curling around his legs, as if it was beckoning him inside. 

“What the hell...?” 

His question trailed off as he glanced at Bucky’s distraught face, then your confused one, then the exploded wall. Taking in a deep breath, he nodded to Bucky, then turned on his heel.

“Torres,” he said into his earpiece. “I need an ambulance, now.”

_____

The room was silent, save for the beep of the heart rate monitor by your side and your heavy breathing. You took in a deep breath, the sterile smell of disinfectant and alcohol filling your nostrils. The bright lights above you blinded you when you had first opened your eyes, sending another jab of pain through your head. Now, as you were used to the lights, you scanned the room lazily with your eyes, vaguely aware of the IV stuck in your arm and hospital gown uncomfortably clad around your body. 

Hospital. You were in the hospital, because you hit your head. That much you gathered. 

Why you were in a bank at the brink of falling apart, and why Captain America was there, you had no idea. James Barnes, too. You knew of him, from the stories and news articles that were circulating when you had just moved to New York. You had visited the Smithsonian exhibit on him and Steve Rogers once, too. You just couldn’t remember who you were with.

The little time you had alone with your thoughts was cut short as the door to your room opened. The doctor, an older man with a kind smile on his face, stepped in, closing the door softly behind him.

“Hi there,” he said, pulling a pen out of his breast pocket as he grinned at you. You smiled back hesitantly.

“Since you’re awake, I’m gonna ask you a few questions. It won’t be anything too tiring, alright?”

You just nodded, eyeing the clipboard in his hand as he pulled over a chair and sat down.

“First thing’s first. Name and surname?”

You told him as much, and he hummed, scribbling something down.

“And where do you live currently?”

“New York,” you rasped, and he nodded.

“What’s the last thing you remember before getting hurt?”

You stared blankly at him. If you could’ve, you would’ve stared straight through him. Your mouth gaped open, like a fish out of water, but you found nothing came to mind. You furrowed your brows in frustration at the blankness.

“I- I don’t know.”

“Okay,” he said reassuringly. “That’s alright. Do you know how you got hurt?”

You shrugged. “I guess I hit my head.”

Your words were still sluggish, hard to come up with, and the doctor noticed this. He stood, heaving out a sigh, then smiled at you again.

“Rest up. A nurse will be here in a couple of hours to run some tests, strictly procedural.”

He was gone faster than he came.

_____

Third person’s POV

The doctor let out a deep breath as he shut the door behind him. Bucky, sitting on one of the chairs lined up against the wall, scrambled to his feet when he saw him, closing the distance between them in three long strides.

“What happened? Is she awake? What did she say?”

The doctor- Dr. Miller, his tag read- held up his hand to stop the questions Bucky was bombarding him with. 

“Mr. Barnes...”

Bucky nodded frantically for him to continue, eyes filled with hope and worry, and Dr. Miller couldn’t help but feel sorry for him as he took in Bucky’s dark under eyes and unshaven beard. 

“I’m afraid Y/N has some... short-term memory loss. Retrograde amnesia, we call it.”

Bucky blinked. He swallowed. “Well... how long does that last?”

Dr. Miller shrugged. “Some cases last only a few hours... some can go on for months. It’s hard to say, but she sustained severe trauma to the head, so I wouldn’t be surprised if it took a while for her to recollect herself.”

Bucky’s face fell, shoulders slumping and chest heaving. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Barnes. We’ll do the best we can while she’s here with us,” the doctor’s sympathetic tone doing nothing to calm the storm in Bucky’s chest.

“And- and how long will she have to stay here?”

“Oh, I don’t know... until we see some progress, maybe. Or at least until we run all the necessary tests and diagnostics. A few days, probably.”

Bucky nodded, defeated. 

“She’ll be under a lot of drugs and anesthetics, so she might be asleep for most of the time. She’s awake now, however. If you’d like to speak to her.”

Bucky glanced at her hospital door, then back at the doctor, muttering a small thanks as he stepped towards the door. Deep breath in, deep breath out. He could do this. He’d seen and been through much worse. He could do this.

I can’t fucking do this, was his first thought as he made eye contact with her. 

Her kind eyes that he had grown so accustomed to, the eyes he’d seen cry rivers and sparkle with joy, were now looking at him with good-natured confusion. Bucky almost fell to his knees at the foot of her bed, right then and there. The situation hit him like a freight train: the one person who managed to bring him out of his darkest place, the one life line he was clinging onto ever since Steve left... she was gone. Not gone, no. She was still alive. She was looking right at him, in fact, but maybe that made it even worse. Perhaps, the knowledge that she was alive and well, but had no memory of loving him... that was worse.

“Sergeant Barnes?”

Her tender voice made his eyes snap up to her, and he forced his legs to start moving. Bucky shot down the hope that was blooming in his chest as he slowly sat down in the uncomfortable chair at her bedside, her eyes following him all the while. 

“Y-yes,” he said while nodding, blue eyes scanning her face for any sign of recognition.

“I... I know who you are, ya know,” she said, a slight tilt to her lips as she turned her sheepish gaze to her blanket. “I’ve heard of you, seen you on the TV and stuff.”

Bucky swallowed, his throat like sandpaper as he stared at her, breath growing uneven while he tried to recollect himself.

She fidgeted with the plastic hospital bracelet around her wrist, and Bucky caught the nervous tremble in her fingertips. 

“That’s... that’s good,” he rasped, then cleared his throat. “You know me from... just the news?”

She nodded, eyes flittering to his for a moment, then back to her wrist. 

“Well, we’re- we used to be-”

He didn’t know how to say it. She looked at him, expecting the rest of his sentence and he froze, mind running a mile a minute as his jaw ticked.

“We’re friends.”

“Oh.”

The response was small, and quiet, and brought forth another wave of timid silence Bucky was growing to hate with a passion. He missed her voice, her laugh. He wanted to tell her everything: wanted to tell her their inside joke about Sam, the scar she left on John Walker’s nose after punching him when he called Bucky brain-dead, Alpine waiting for both of them back at Bucky’s apartment, wanted to tell her how much he loved her, and she loved him. It was too soon.

He couldn’t, not yet. Not when she looked so lost, and young. Unbelievably young and naïve, and he couldn’t do that to her yet, not when she knew him as Sergeant Barnes.

“You- you can call me Bucky.”

She chewed on her bottom lip nervously, then gave a small shake of her head. “N-no, Sergeant Barnes is fine.”

Bucky didn’t think it was possible, but his heart cracked even more. It cracked, and broke, and let all the blood rush out of it like a tsunami, right into his poor soul that was fighting for survival. Only strangers ever called him Sergeant, people who either respected him, or feared him. People who loved him called him Bucky, and she used to be one of those people.

Blinking back his tears, he cleared his throat before she noticed. 

“If you, uh, if you need anything, I’ll be here...”

Bucky trailed off awkwardly, and she hummed. 

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Resting her head on the pillow, turning to face the window, Bucky allowed himself to stare at her. He let the pain in, through his nerves, across his limbs, down his spine, and he watched her, sitting peacefully in her hospital bed. Bucky clenched his jaw, nostrils flaring as he felt the familiar burn of tears in his nose, behind his eyes, in his throat, and he swallowed again, heavily. 

He was a stranger to her. She didn’t know he would die for her- he would live for her, even. His throat felt constricted, breathing growing shallow as his world caved in around him, eyes zeroing in on the way she licked her chapped lips, nose twitching with the movement.

Bucky needed her back. He needed her, otherwise his soul would wither. Wither, like a rose bought for a lover, forgotten somewhere in a back alley behind a bar after a bad fight. He already felt himself setting loose into the familiar despair and void he’d become intimate with for 70 years. 

He didn’t know how to survive without her.

____________________

TAGLIST:

@dreamsley​ @a-ngeli-que​ @mormonprincess​ @agirlinherhead​ @s-katergorl​ @ace-27749​ @leyannrae​ @tailsoflightning​ @acidwidow​ @angelofthorr​ @gallysonegoodlung​ @creatingjana​ @gitasor​ @mrsdrysdale18​ 

#marvel #mcu #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #james buchanan barnes fic #james buchanan bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #james bucky barnes fic

[im-a-writer-sometimes]

I’ll Always Love You (Spencer Reid Imagine)

Request: Hi I just got diagnosed with dysthymia and I was wondering if you could write an imagine where the reader gets diagnosed with it hides it from Spencer but in the end he finds out and it's all super fluffy pleeaasseee. I love your writing xx

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader

Word Count: 958

Warnings: mentions of mental disorders, extreme fluff

You walked out of the doctor’s office shaking, opening your car door and cautiously getting inside. Dysthymia. That’s what the doctor had said. Sure, you weren’t the happiest person, but a mental disorder? That just seemed too real. You let out a shaky breath and started the car, slowly pulling out of the parking lot. Your doctor had recommended a psychiatrist for you to see and called in a prescription for some antidepressant, but you just sat there, stunned. You decided to go to your favorite restaurant and pulled into the parking lot. Just as you were about to get out, your phone rang. You looked down at the screen to see Spencer was calling.

“Hey,” you said, answering.

“Hey, we just landed, just wanted to check and see how your doctor’s appointment went?” He sounded so casual, so different from yourself.

“Umm… okay. It was okay. Nothing unusual,” you lied, hoping your genius of a boyfriend wouldn’t catch on.

“Awesome! Anyway, we’re pulling into the local police station so I’ll call you back later tonight.”

“Okay, talk to you soon,” and you hung up. As smart as Spencer was, he could be just plain oblivious sometimes.

You went inside and ordered yourself some food, but as soon as you sat down, you just stared at your food. You didn’t want to eat. You sighed and threw your meal away, cursing yourself for wasting money.

When you got home, you called the psychiatrist your doctor recommended only to be told there weren’t any openings for two months. You sighed and scheduled an appointment for two months down the road. Then, you did some research.

Turns out Dysthymia is like chronic depression. While the symptoms aren’t as severe, it lasted longer. People with dysthymia usually often don’t seek help because they think it’s just part of who they are. That’s what you thought too. But, you were wrong. And you were relieved you found help. But you still didn’t know how to tell Spencer. His job is already demanding enough, he shouldn’t have to take care of you too. You decided you’d take care of yourself.

----

The case was closed in a week and soon enough, Spencer was home. You were glad to see his face, the past week had been hell for you. And he was just as happy to see you, showering you with hugs and kisses when he came home.

“How was the case?” you asked, sitting next to him on the couch.

“Actually, it went rather well. We didn’t have any leads at first, but everything just kind of fell into place,” he beamed, reaching out his arm so you could snuggle into his side.

“I missed you,” you murmured.

“I missed you too,” Spencer said, placing a kiss on top of your head. You quickly sat up, placing a kiss on Spencer’s nose.

“I’m gonna use the restroom, and then we're gonna order pizza,” you said, smiling.

He watched you as you left, confused. Something seemed off about you and he didn’t know what. But that didn’t last for long when the phone started ringing. Tired, he decided to stay where he was, too lazy to get up. As soon as it stopped ringing, a shrill voice sounded through the room.

“This is Dr. Windsor’s office calling. We just wanted to let you know that we had a cancellation and we can get you in this month. Also, we wanted to tell you that your first session is free since it’s just to confirm your diagnoses. Have a nice day!”

Spencer stared at the answering machine. Diagnoses? What kind of diagnoses? He didn’t have much time to wonder because you came skipping into the room, stopping when you saw Spencer’s face.

“What’s wrong, babe?” you query.

“There’s a message on the answering machine. I think you should listen to it,” he said, not looking at her.

“Okay… ?” She walked over to the phone and pressed the button to replay the message. She instantly froze. Her heart sank to her feet as she heard the words coming out of the answering machine. She cautiously looked at Spencer who just stared at the ground. Once the message ended, Spencer looked up at me.

“I thought you said your doctor’s appointment went well?” Hurt flashed across his face, and your head fell.

“I’m sorry, I just… I didn’t want to…”

“What’s your diagnosis?”

You paused. “Dysthymia.”

He just nodded. “You had all the signs, I should have put it together, I should have—”

You ran over to Spencer, cutting him off. “Hey, this is not on you. I’ve been like this even before I knew you. It’s not your problem.”

“Yes, it is. Your problems are my problems, and I will do anything—anything—to make it okay again. I promise I’ll be here,” he said, gripping your hands.

“You shouldn’t have to be, Spence. You have a life, a job, you shouldn’t waste time working on me. I’m okay, really, just—”

“Waste time? Any time with you isn’t time wasted, especially when it’s to make you happy and healthy. Y/N, I love you and I want only the best for you. You deserve the best. Making you happy makes me happy, so really, you’re doing me a favor. You shouldn’t be afraid or ashamed, in fact, Dysthymia is rather common. There are about 3 million cases in the US and—”

“I love you, Spence, but I don’t need to hear all the statistics,” you smiled, letting out a small laugh.

He nodded and opened up his arms. You settled on his lap and rested your head on his shoulder, his arms engulfing you.

“You know I’ll always love you, right?” He said, kissing your forehead.

“I know.”

If any of you guys ever think you might be suffering from a mental disorder, there is nothing wrong with seeking help. Remember to love yourselves, because you deserve all the love in the world, no matter the mistakes you’ve made.

If you ever need to talk, just message me. I’m currently in a battle with mental disorders as well, and I’m here to help.

Much Love, M.

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagines #imagine #imagines #fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #dysthymia #dysthymic disorder #mental health #mental illness #mental disorder #you are loved #love yourself #reid #spencer reid x reader #bau #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds one shot #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #david rossi #emily prentiss #behavioral analysis unit

[bloodycassian]

Azriel x Reader - Trying. 

TW- DEPRESSION//sadness - Thank you anon for this request. I have struggled with Dysthymia for almost my whole life. It felt good to write this little piece of representation. 

Nothing but a ghost. Like the two wraiths that waited to serve you at your command. The wraiths that had nothing to do. Granted, they had tried pushing food on you, or books or paints or whatever other form of entertainment or sustenance but you ignored them. Knowing that if you had put up the fight to say anything you may lose your control completely and break down. You could let the time pass, numbly without a care. It was better than having to deal with the reality of not being alive at all.

  Rhysand had set you up in a beautiful room in the house of wind after the village attack. You could see the entire city below and the ocean beyond. It did nothing for you. If he was hoping for some kind of gratitude he didn't show it. He simply explained the house would provide if needed and that he would check in weekly. You were surprised he wasnt asking for more - that he wasnt going to try to get any information from you about Hybern's forces on the continent. After months of war you had become numb to the idea of peace. It never seemed like an option anymore. Perhaps the two generals he had brought with him to save your village had gotten all the information they needed.

  Weeks of sleeping later and you felt your eyes getting heavy again while looking out to the Sidra. The bright city below seemed buzzing with excitement about the upcoming summer solstice. You couldn't wait until you could go to bed. The tower of books on the table beside you casted a shadow over your feet, then your legs, up to your arms. Until finally, it was dark on the balcony, the stars above twinkling like the white caps on the ocean. Dread twisted in your gut, and you slowly got up, letting your body adjust to the change. Dark spots edged in around your vision.

  You could feel the chasm open inside you. The pit of loneliness - the empty void of demons waiting to take you as soon as you dropped your guard. The head rush from getting up made you want to vomit. The acid in your stomach churned, burning up to your throat. Fasting for so long would make Rhysand force your hand to eat, you knew. But you couldn't bring yourself to even try. You felt weighted, like there was a tired blanket over your being and you couldn't get it off no matter how hard you tried. The demons pulled at you.

The pain was good though, a solid reminder of why you would not eat. Why you could not eat. You did not deserve such a pleasure. You doubted you could stomach anything more than crackers anyway after weeks of fasting. Rhysand was not subtle with his advances of trying to get you to try food when he visited. The smell of some of the treats he brought made you gag at times. Your stomach howled at you now though.

  The knock on the door didnt surprise you. It was time for the high lord's weekly visit where you would tell him everything was fine and you didnt need anything. And he would try to get through your shields, and there would be a flash of disappointment on his face at the obsidian stone you would slam down on him. Then he would leave. And you could let the sting of that disappointment burn you alive until you were on the bed sobbing.

  "Enter, your highness." You smiled to yourself slightly, knowing the title would bother him. The voice that came once the door opened made you whip around. Not Rhys. "Actually..." The spymaster. The general that had guarded your village while the other barreled through the enemy lines. "Rhys was busy. He sent me instead." He stood in the doorway, tentatively.

  "Oh.." You felt your cheeks go red at the embarrassment of him seeing you like this. From the defender of your village to..what? A tired being that craved nothing more than to simply not exist anymore? "What is he doing?" You asked out of courtesy only. You were used to the high lord seeing your mess of a room, but Azriel was.. different for some reason. You walked over to the bed and kicked the sheets under the frame. Attempting to tidy up even slightly. The rest of the room was a mess of clothes and empty containers, drink cups. Nerves made your heart race.

"Nightmares?" He asked, stepping inside and closing the oak door behind him. He leaned on it, arms crossed over his chest. His simple tunic seemed to eat the light in the room, not reflecting a thing.

  Your face burned. You felt your eyes sting. Clearing your throat you nodded, folding your arms over your middle. Your ribs seemed to jut out more now that he was watching you. You watched him, as his shadows snaked around his shoulders and curled around his ear. They searched the room. You sighed, going to the closet beside him -ignoring the mirror mounted there- and pulling out a folding chair. You placed it next to your own, facing out to the starry sky. You sat in the familiar padded chair, leaning on the arm rest. The half cup of cold tea next to the book tower rattled slightly on its plate as he approached. A bubble of tranquil quiet seemed to encapsulate the area. A feeling you recognized as relief flowed through your bones. You felt the tension in your body fade slightly. You breathed a bit easier, like he was taking a weight off your chest.

He sat next to you for a long while before he spoke. "I used to hate night time." His voice was level. You tore your eyes away from the most interesting spot on the floor where you were thinking of nothing to look at him.

  He kept his eyes out to the balcony, a cool wind gusting through. His wings were folded in tight behind him, the shadows coiling over everything in the room. The trees below sighed at the caress of the breeze. The night seemed to finally speak as he spoke. He brought his hands together in front of him, rubbing over the scarred texture there. "I would hear absolutely everything in that basement. I could tell when night fell, even without windows. I could hear the beasts hunting outside, or my bastard father getting drunk and-" His hands clenched, and you thought you heard his teeth grind together. "He was a cruel male. To everyone, even my half brothers."

  A shudder rippled through you. You wondered what he had done to Azriel, if his father was cruel to his more beloved children. They had forced him into that basement, even when they knew first hand how Illyrians craved the sky. He knew of total darkness and silence - of pain that seemed to stretch on without end. He knew loneliness, he was locked up with it for the first part of his life. His shadows circled around your ankles like a cat, like they recognized you. Your voice was little more than a whisper as you spoke. "I dont even know whats wrong with me." You were relieved your tears didnt spill over. They pricked your eyes but you blinked them away.

He was quiet, taking in the information. "I didnt either until I found out what a shadow singer is." He paused, glancing at you as you tucked your legs up under yourself. "It dosent mean anything is wrong, it just means you need help sometimes. To figure out exactly what you need." He stood from the chair and flexed his wings, the shadows collecting around him like a puddle.

  He held a hand out to you, patient even while you considered. Getting out of the chair seemed like so much work with such a tired body. Tired soul, tired spirit. Anything beyond existence seemed like a complete burden. But his hand there, waiting, unwavering. Challenging. it made you sigh and finally, stiffly get out of the chair that housed you. The chair that had sucked you in, prisoned you for months.

His smile was stunning. His dark eyes seemed to light up. He led you on to the balcony and leaned over the railing. The pines far below rustled with the breeze. You swore you could hear the Sidra as well, bubbling with the current over the rocks. "How did you get out?" You asked, your eyes locking into his. He looked at you without sorrow, no fear or judgement lurked there. Just that half smile that had stayed since you stood from that chair.

"I was.. released by my father, but I still had to battle the darkness that I had learned. It wasn't until I met Rhysand and his mother that I began to... cope." He contemplated for a moment, his wings moving slightly with the wind that came through. "I'm familiar with what you're feeling. I ask that you try. I can come back again if you'd like." He left it as an open ended question, not as a demand or promise.

  "Just try? You're not gonna make a checklist for me?" You mocked, he just shook his head. "I think I would like that." You answered. At least he wouldnt pester you as much as the high lord did. At least he could bring this feeling of relief to your bones. He nodded, and the shadows seemed to spike, receding from the room and joining him, wrapping around his body and melding him with the night. "I'll be back tomorrow, then." He said simply, raising himself on to the balcony railing with ease.

  You nodded, wringing your hands with nerves as you watched him flare his wings, preparing to fly. "Dont let the bed eat you, Rhys wouldn't be happy if I had to break more of his furniture." He said over his shoulder with a wink. You felt a fleeting smile come to your lips as he jumped, wings catching him as he glided on the wind. You made a note to yourself to ask what other furniture he had ruined.

  He disappeared quickly, the shadows and the comfy bubble of silence gone. When you closed the door to the balcony and turned back to your chair, there was a plate of crackers and fruit waiting there. Your stomach rolled at the thought. Instead, you went to the closet, putting his chair away. You made a mental note to get a different seating option for him, to accommodate the wings. Knowing he was coming back, you saved yourself the future embarrassment and began picking up your clothes, putting them into the corner bin where they disappeared. You didnt pause long enough to check to see if the clothes were reappearing clean in the closet, you just kept cleaning. Trusting the house to understand you were in fact, trying. You dared not pause, knowing if you stopped there wouldn't be a beginning again.

  You went as far as requesting a mop and bucket from the Wraiths. They were wide eyes with shock at your room, at your abruptness. But they said nothing about it, just bringing you the items you requested and then some. Naula snuck in a plate of meat and cheese, leaving it next to the crackers on the end table now that there was more room with the book pile cleaned up.

  You requested the extra chair. They promised it would be in the room by morning. You made your bed, and once you were satisfied with the shining floors you stood back to admire your work. It looked like a different space, clutter gone and the books organized again. You had given the cups the Cerridwen before they left, thanking them both.

You went to your chair, hesitant to sit. The wear marks on the arm rests and the seat were apparent. Instead, picked up the plate of fruit and crackers and took it to the bench at the end of the bed, picking at the more neutral fruit as you went. A spark of something bloomed in your chest at the thought of Azriel coming back. Of what his reaction would be at the clean look of your room. You dared to hope that he would notice at all. Something told you though that he would consider this trying. He made it sound so easy.

  The bed welcomed you, clean sheets caressing your legs as you fell into the most peaceful sleep you had in a long while.

#acotar fic #azriel #azriel x reader #acotar insert #acotar reader insert

[kakashiswilloffire]

masterlist

my ao3

kakashi hatake

fluff

breakfast with ninken kakashi x gn!reader, no warnings

changing my major kakagai, no warnings

a kunoichi's surprise kakashi x fem!reader, pregnancy

cold brew kakashi x gn!reader, coffee shop au

perfect for you kakashi x gn!reader, marijuana use

cupcake of the week kakashi x gn!reader, bakery au

together kakairu, cooking together, iruka adopts naruto

brownies kakairu, iruka adopts naruto, domestic

angst

orange sherbet kakagai, suicide tw, self harm mention, overdose tw, depression tw

friend killer kakashi kakagai, mention of gore, mention of vomit

another year gen, suicidal ideation, birthday fic

mirror gen, suicide attempt, character death

dysthymia 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11 / 12/ 13 ongoing, depression, check chapters for tws

hinata hyuga

clarity dead dove, self harm, burning

kabuto yakushi

STEAM, not STEM kabuto x sai, college au, EtL ish

when you thought I was asleep kabuto x sai, hurt-ish/comfort, domestic fluff

pop quiz kabuto x kakashi, established relationship, hospital angst

shino aburame

shino's strategy fluff, shinoten, mention of akamaru biting

shisui uchiha

operation itachi's birthday fluff, no warnings

tsunade

who tells your story angst, war era, mention of death

#there's so many now!!

[i-dor-u]

‎‎♡ commence phase 101 ⇶ mazikeen is (un)loved ♡ — pinned blog post.

❲⎙❳ about︙inactive. mazikeen, adult, any pronouns; hobbyist fanfiction writer, inconsistent poster, reblogger of sorts & occasional bene gesserit reverend mother.

❲⎙❳ latest︙001 :: m. draconia x reader | 002 :: s. kyoraku x reader | 003 :: m. bachira x reader | 004 :: j. kirstein x reader.

❲⎙❳ picks︙001 :: erwin smith x reader | 002 :: shuji hanma x reader | 003 :: ken ryuguji x reader | 004 :: yami sukehiro x reader.

❲⎙❳ general︙kindly, requests will not be taken. my works are safe for work. triggering or explicit content will not be brought upon my writing for my personal comfort. content warnings are always provided. works will be curated under the hashtags ❲⌕❳ loading maze... and ❲⌕❳ mazedotcom.

❲⎙❳ inside︙socially awkward and easily overwhelmed by unfamiliar interactions. prone to dysthymia & anhedonia. please note that english is not my first language, so language barriers might interfere with my communication.

❲⎙❳ extra︙my writing covers multiple fandoms, so i suggest that you don't follow for a specific fandom as i have the tendency to jump from one thing to another unexpectedly. but if that's not an issue for you, feel free to make yourself at home.

©: writing belongs to i-dor-u & the characters used for creative purposes belong to their respective owners.

#❲⌕❳ loading maze... #❲⌕❳ mazedotcom.

[shuckinbeanz]

Dys & Sym-Nicknames

warnings/notes: just cute nicknames for Dys and Sym and by Dys and Sym 🥺👉👈 there's also a spicy one for Dys bc I couldn't resist 🤤 their reactions are so cuteeee 😩 ending spoilerish for Sym, and brat taming implied for Dys, but nothing explicitly NSFW!

MINORS 👏 DNI! 👏 AGE 👏 IN 👏 BIO 👏 OR 👏 DNI! 👏 Head on over to @candybowbeansies please for my SFW pieces, or be blocked if you interact here! 😇

Tags: @dynamightsdaydream

Dys 🥺

Dys calls you;

Beautiful

Pretty boy/girl/baby

Sweetheart (when he's feeling a bit frisky, ohg imagine his soft sexy grin 😩 or better yet…make it feral 🥵)

Constellation (goes hand in hand* with your nickname for him; you are a healing presence for him, as the nicknames suggest)

You call Dys;

Handsome

Growing up being fed compliments by his sweetheart does wonders for a guy who hates his own name. Contrary to popular belief, my man does not have low self esteem. He's a hunk and he knows it. You'd get a smug smirk, a brief flash of pearly whites. 🥺

Babygirl/boy

Thinks you're mocking him at first, but when it settles and he knows you mean it affectionately, his cheeks will go pink, followed by a half hearted eye roll 🙄 Ever the drama queen, this man, I swear. 😂

Big D

Hooo, boy. The innuendo in this one. My personal favorite! The first time you call him this, it takes a few moments to sink in lmfao then he'd turn a lurid hue and choke on his spit. 🤣

"Y-You--!" he chokes, teeming with embarrassment. "Better not ca--all me that, in front of oth-ers!"

But if you're bratty like meeeee 🥵 Call him that in front of his twin--the difference is huge

"Sweetheart, what did I say about calling me that in front of others?" 

Blow raspberries at him and call him that one more time. The feral smirk he makes, his onyx hues impossibly darker…y'all better run. His mood changes for the rest of the day. When night comes, you heathens can run but nothing can hide from him. Expect to be hauled somewhere private for a taming of a lifetime 🥴

My Glow (goes hand in hand* with his nickname for you; he's a healing presence for you, as the nicknames suggest)

Sym 🥺

Sym calls you;

Sugarbug/Lovebug

Hopeye

Little one

Love

You call Sym;

Sweet boy

And

Sugarbun

because Sym is so freakin' sweet. He's kind, understanding, has literally never ending patience. The best boyfrenn anyone could ask for 🥺

Mushwood (bc he’s so freakin tol 😂)

Dearest 🥺

Hecklebee (comes from one of his endings)

because he's so jovial, it's contagious! He finds the fun in virtually everything. There's never a boring moment w him. 🥺

#i was a teenage exocolonist #teenage exocolonist #teen exo #teen exo sym x reader #teen exo dys x reader #symbiosis x reader #dysthymia x reader #teen exo symbiosis x reader #teen exo dysthymia x reader

[candybowbeansies]

Wayfaring Stranger

warnings/notes: implied deaths and many, many timeloops from birth to death and bodily disfigurement, hints at suicidal tendencies if you really squint hard, game spoilers but rlly it’s hinted at the beginning at the game so not really, reader is Sol but still will be written as Y/N, y'all this game has me hook line and sinker I need to write for it starting nyow.

heavily inspired by the song Wayfaring Stranger popularized by the movie 1917, because to me that song is Sol, the game’s player character. Drifting through many pasts, constants, and even more futures, all while losing so much while so young, yet gaining much more, the only moment’s reprieve being the time of their passing, only to look forward to the journey onto the next past, present, and future. Sym’s POV and alt!au(Dys doesn’t meet Sym), written very differently than the game because I’m jealous of Dys, and Sym falls in love with reader first before Dys(likewise for Dys) Sym+DysxReader

Currently only writing for Dys and Sym! They’re the characters I know best as of writing this i have a thing for tdh 😀 there’s also the possibility of me crossing over BNHA into this fandom bc i may or may not have many ideas sitting in the back of my head--

Underage characters are Aged Up!

It’s the final nail in the coffin for Sym when he hears Reader singing by sheer chance. He falls in love.

You were an oddity among the humans. Only a short time after you and the others crashed, did he see a short human-a child, the taller ones referred to you as-braving outside your ridiculous constructs. And it wasn't long before another shorter one followed suit. You preferred all-around nature’s colors and he preferred ones from Glow season. Dys, you called him, while in turn, he called you Y/N. A name so beautiful, and so familiar…he’s dreamed of you, quite literally.

For some time, he’d watch over you two, watching you two grow closer to adulthood; curious, stubborn little wonders. You grew in similar likeness to the grass in the plains, each passing year creating things within him he’d not felt before, or for a very, very long time. He found himself trying to negotiate your survival, more and more as time went by.

While out fulfilling your curiosities, he found you’d taken to humming to yourself. 

“I am a poor wayfaring stranger,”

A bewitching melody of melancholy; sadness and acceptance for the inevitable.

“I'm traveling through this world of woe,”

It wasn’t until now, by sheer chance…

“Yet there's no sickness, toil nor danger,”

He found you singing to yourself, in desolation. You found this area for yourself, seasons ago;

“In that bright land to which I go.”

There was an unspoken promise between you and your other half, Dys. You both respected each other's boundaries, but yet there seemed to be a sixth sense in each of you for the other.

“I'm going there to see my father,”

If one was in need, the other would find and comfort them. Like this, it wasn’t long before Dys, too, was pulled by you.

“I'm going there, no more to roam.”

He recognized Dys’ pained expression. And it gave a pang in his chest, too. In some far off dimension within his dreams, he saw you in a beautiful glade…your form marred for life, so desolate, but still filled with so much hope.

“I'm only going over Jordan,”

He had an inkling that you, too, had the power of foresight. To say you two were attached by the hands wouldn’t necessarily be a lie; after all, one or the other would be led on for most of the time you spent exploring. 

“I'm only going over home…”

Sometimes, you’d stop Dys from going on a path; and through his connection with Vertumna, he’d find either the presence of danger, or nothing at all.

“I know dark clouds will gather round me,”

A bewitching melody of melancholy, sadness, acceptance…

“I know my way is rough and steep,”

But yet, at the same time, of hope and conviction.

“But golden fields lie just before me,”

Faith that soon, everything will end…

“Where God's redeemed shall ever sleep…”

…even if just momentarily.

“I'm going home to see my mother,”

“Sym?” he hears Dys whisper, fiddling with the grass, having found a comfortable spot to give you your space. He finds himself slightly surprised, but if it was you who told Dys about him, then it’d make sense the young man just barely out of his teens knows of his existence.

“And all my loved ones who've gone on…”

They hear your voice crack. Sym hears your breath waver. “They just lost their dad…” Dys didn’t seem particularly sad-just understanding. “Again, they said.”

“I'm only going over Jordan,”

“They were the first to understand me. To believe me. It’s only right that I do the same.” Dys says, leaning back on his palms. “Sym?” he calls again.

“I'm only going over home.”

Your voice dips off, into soft hums. They fill the area in melancholy, for what feels like an eternity.

“Will it ever end?” Dys asks. He knew what Dys was asking. Will your pain ever end? He warps silently into the area behind Dys. You humans are so emotional, Sym swears, it’s contagious. “There’s no way to know. The universe is vast, petal.” he tells Dys, recognizing sadness in his own voice. Dys snorts, “They said something similar.” before craning his head to get a better look at his towering form. “You’re famous, you know that?” Dys says. He chuckles, smiling sweetly. Dys simply rolls his eyes, before standing up. “They talk so much about you, even I like you…” the ravenette mutters almost begrudgingly under his breath, patting off imaginary dust before turning, unperturbed by the difference in height, reaching out his hand. He stares at the offered hand. “Well?” Dys pipes up impatiently, “Don’t you wanna meet them?” waving his hand a few times.

He can’t help but smile, remembering a distant memory from a distant past as he reaches out, allowing himself to be led to you.

“Y/N!” Dys calls with his own form of enthusiasm, “Guess who I finally caught. Told you I’d do it one day!” making you turn.

Your torso was mangled by decade old scars, and you were missing an eye, an arm and a leg, supported by contraptions; one to lean on, and one to replace your leg. “Sym! Dys!” dream you called out, full of joy as they approached.

The current you, who exists right now, simply bounds towards them, arms outstretched.

“I love you.” dream you sighs, leaning into their embrace.

You giggle tearily, latching awkwardly onto them due to your differences in height. Dys goes red and tenses right up, “Y-You--! You’re too much sometimes, you know that?” sputtering at the impact. He’s somewhat used to it, it appears, as he softens up a little. “Geez…love you, too.” he huffs, bashfully.

So that’s the fluttering in his chest? Love. Love. It’s love.

That has a nice ring to it, he smiles. Yes...he's in love with you.

#i was a teenage exocolonist #teenage exocolonist #teen exo #teen exo sym x reader #teen exo dys x reader #symbiosis x reader #dysthymia x reader #teen exo symbiosis x reader #teen exo dysthymia x reader #wrote this listening to a song #inspo'd by song fic #Spotify

[polyxreader]

Would it be too much to ask for Android 17 trying to get in between and continuously flirt with Trunk and F!Reader relationship cuz he wants them both?

Here!

 https://polyxreader.tumblr.com/post/168633590591/trunks-x-femalereader-x-android-17  

I’am very sorry for the delay, I was dealing with ansiety and  dysthymia, but I’m now here. I really hope that you see the post and that you like it! The next part of this is going to be the poly sfw and nsfw headcanons between Trunks x F!Reader x Android 17! 

Thank you very much!

[cardentist]

Okay so, we’re gonna have a little talk about asexuality, trauma, and ableism, because that’s apparently what’s required of me now. So to catch you the reader up to speed before I do, the two anons I’m going to post are in response to this thread (X) But the tldr is that someone tried to argue that you can’t be aroace and gay at the same time, I mentioned that I identify that way thanks to my trauma, a bit of arguing ensued. Including but not limited to the person telling me that I need to “get help” to fix me. yeah, not fun.

And as it turns out, this is possibly less fun.

First of all, if you’re a decent human being then don’t do this. I feel like why is pretty self explanatory but I guess this person still felt like it was the right thing to do somehow so who knows. going off of this metaphor, if my abuser had cut off one of my legs then wargaymon would have asked me why I don’t just start walking again. “just be normal like the rest of us.” if I was lactose intolerant and said that I didn’t like milk anyways would you come to my inbox to tell me how I’m hurting people by making them think it’s alright to not like milk. can’t I see that ice cream is one of the basic sources of happiness for human beings? no, you wouldn’t, because that’d be dumb. however, sex isn’t walking or ice cream, as should be plainly obvious to anyone on earth. this metaphor fails because you, dear anon, have your priorities ass backwards.

So, lets get out of metaphor territory now and actually talk about this plainly. trauma made me asexual. what you’re essentially telling me is that I’m evil and wrong for finding a way to be happy with myself. that I either have to retraumatize myself just so I can appease strangers on the internet who are very concerned about what I do with my genitals or that I shouldn’t be telling other people in the same position that it’s alright. moreover, I’m not celibate or an incel as the kids these days are saying. I don’t desire sex and the thought of having sex repulses me. this means that no, it isn’t a “basic source of happiness” for me. I’m not depriving myself of something that I want and then claiming that I’m better off for it, I just found a word for someone that doesn’t want it. and guess what, that makes me happy. I’m a happier, healthier person because I didn’t feel the need to force myself in to situations I wasn’t comfortable with and because I found a group that told me that it was okay. I, and anyone else on earth, have the right to feel this way. the only reason why that I can parse that this could upset you is because I and people like me aren’t sexually available to you. and guess what, that’s just how life goes my dude. there are people who are attracted to genders that you aren’t. there are people that just aren’t attracted to you in general. there are people that just aren’t attracted to people in general. sex is about as appealing to me as jumping out of an airplane without a parachute, and that’s nobody else’s business. not having sex doesn’t hurt me or anybody else. and frankly telling me that I should have to have sex for my own good just sounds pretty rapey, like you people need a lesson on consent. and okay that’s about the end of an actual discussion here, the second ask is just bullshit. but I’m already here so

Let’s start this off personally. now, I don’t know how this person wouldn’t know this because I outright said it in the post this is a response to but. I was raped when I was a child, I don’t know the exact age but I was diagnosed with ptsd when I was three, I am now an adult. there was never a point in my life were I’ve ever been a “perfectly happy” person and never will be, and that sure as fuck isn’t my fault.

but guess what, there’s a difference between pretending that nothing ever hurts and learning to be happy with the things about you that don’t hurt. my panic attacks hurt me, my constant anxiety hurts me, my disordered eating hurts me, my dysthymia hurts me. and I can assure you that I’ve been trying to fix those things for years. and you know what, they’ll probably never go away entirely. and I can accept that fact and still try to get better. you know what doesn’t hurt me? not particularly ever thinking one way or the other about sex or a relationship until someone brings it up to me. assuming that no one says anything it has exactly zero affect on my life at any given point in time. it’s neither painful nor a choice that I make. it just is. and if working to “change” that fact, to “fix” me is painful and violent then why should I do it? why can’t I just be happy with myself? there is no reason why. not a logical one anyhow. but yeah, this is also where your own metaphor shoots you in the foot. because guess what, someone can’t help not having a fucking leg anymore than I can help being the way that I am. and framing it as their fault, framing it like they don’t have the right to learn to be happy with themselves, is just evil dude.

and no, nothing I ever do will paint a rapist as being innocent. if people judge whether something someone did was wrong by how the victim reacted then they aren’t a moral person, end of story. your needless guilt tripping is as ineffective and stupid as the rest of your “argument.”

#asexuality #aromanticism #discourse #ace discourse #long post #rape

[shuckinbeanz]

Wayfaring Stranger

warnings/notes: implied deaths and many, many timeloops from birth to death and bodily disfigurement, hints at suicidal tendencies if you really squint hard, game spoilers but rlly it’s hinted at the beginning at the game so not really, reader is Sol but still will be written as Y/N, y'all this game has me hook line and sinker I need to write for it starting nyow.

heavily inspired by the song Wayfaring Stranger popularized by the movie 1917, because to me that song is Sol, the game’s player character. Drifting through many pasts, constants, and even more futures, all while losing so much while so young, yet gaining much more, the only moment’s reprieve being the time of their passing, only to look forward to the journey onto the next past, present, and future. Sym’s POV and alt!au(Dys doesn’t meet Sym), written very differently than the game because I’m jealous of Dys, and Sym falls in love with reader first before Dys(likewise for Dys) Sym+DysxReader

Currently only writing for Dys and Sym! They’re the characters I know best as of writing this i have a thing for tdh 😀 there’s also the possibility of me crossing over BNHA into this fandom bc i may or may not have many ideas sitting in the back of my head--

Underage characters are Aged Up!

MINORS 👏 DNI! 👏 AGE 👏 IN 👏 BIO 👏 OR 👏 DNI! 👏 Head on over to @candybowbeansies please for my SFW pieces, or be blocked if you interact here! 😇

It’s the final nail in the coffin for Sym when he hears Reader singing by sheer chance. He falls in love.

You were an oddity among the humans. Only a short time after you and the others crashed, did he see a short human-a child, the taller ones referred to you as-braving outside your ridiculous constructs. And it wasn't long before another shorter one followed suit. You preferred all-around nature’s colors and he preferred ones from Glow season. Dys, you called him, while in turn, he called you Y/N. A name so beautiful, and so familiar…he’s dreamed of you, quite literally.

For some time, he’d watch over you two, watching you two grow closer to adulthood; curious, stubborn little wonders. You grew in similar likeness to the grass in the plains, each passing year creating things within him he’d not felt before, or for a very, very long time. He found himself trying to negotiate your survival, more and more as time went by.

While out fulfilling your curiosities, he found you’d taken to humming to yourself. 

“I am a poor wayfaring stranger,”

A bewitching melody of melancholy; sadness and acceptance for the inevitable.

“I'm traveling through this world of woe,”

It wasn’t until now, by sheer chance…

“Yet there's no sickness, toil nor danger,”

He found you singing to yourself, in desolation. You found this area for yourself, seasons ago;

“In that bright land to which I go.”

There was an unspoken promise between you and your other half, Dys. You both respected each other's boundaries, but yet there seemed to be a sixth sense in each of you for the other.

“I'm going there to see my father,”

If one was in need, the other would find and comfort them. Like this, it wasn’t long before Dys, too, was pulled by you.

“I'm going there, no more to roam.”

He recognized Dys’ pained expression. And it gave a pang in his chest, too. In some far off dimension within his dreams, he saw you in a beautiful glade…your form marred for life, so desolate, but still filled with so much hope.

“I'm only going over Jordan,”

He had an inkling that you, too, had the power of foresight. To say you two were attached by the hands wouldn’t necessarily be a lie; after all, one or the other would be led on for most of the time you spent exploring. 

“I'm only going over home…”

Sometimes, you’d stop Dys from going on a path; and through his connection with Vertumna, he’d find either the presence of danger, or nothing at all.

“I know dark clouds will gather round me,”

A bewitching melody of melancholy, sadness, acceptance…

“I know my way is rough and steep,”

But yet, at the same time, of hope and conviction.

“But golden fields lie just before me,”

Faith that soon, everything will end…

“Where God's redeemed shall ever sleep…”

…even if just momentarily.

“I'm going home to see my mother,”

“Sym?” he hears Dys whisper, fiddling with the grass, having found a comfortable spot to give you your space. He finds himself slightly surprised, but if it was you who told Dys about him, then it’d make sense the young man just barely out of his teens knows of his existence.

“And all my loved ones who've gone on…”

They hear your voice crack. Sym hears your breath waver. “They just lost their dad…” Dys didn’t seem particularly sad-just understanding. “Again, they said.”

“I'm only going over Jordan,”

“They were the first to understand me. To believe me. It’s only right that I do the same.” Dys says, leaning back on his palms. “Sym?” he calls again.

“I'm only going over home.”

Your voice dips off, into soft hums. They fill the area in melancholy, for what feels like an eternity.

“Will it ever end?” Dys asks. He knew what Dys was asking. Will your pain ever end? He warps silently into the area behind Dys. You humans are so emotional, Sym swears, it’s contagious. “There’s no way to know. The universe is vast, petal.” he tells Dys, recognizing sadness in his own voice. Dys snorts, “They said something similar.” before craning his head to get a better look at his towering form. “You’re famous, you know that?” Dys says. He chuckles, smiling sweetly. Dys simply rolls his eyes, before standing up. “They talk so much about you, even I like you…” the ravenette mutters almost begrudgingly under his breath, patting off imaginary dust before turning, unperturbed by the difference in height, reaching out his hand. He stares at the offered hand. “Well?” Dys pipes up impatiently, “Don’t you wanna meet them?” waving his hand a few times.

He can’t help but smile, remembering a distant memory from a distant past as he reaches out, allowing himself to be led to you.

“Y/N!” Dys calls with his own form of enthusiasm, “Guess who I finally caught. Told you I’d do it one day!” making you turn.

Your torso was mangled by decade old scars, and you were missing an eye, an arm and a leg, supported by contraptions; one to lean on, and one to replace your leg. “Sym! Dys!” dream you called out, full of joy as they approached.

The current you, who exists right now, simply bounds towards them, arms outstretched.

“I love you.” dream you sighs, leaning into their embrace.

You giggle tearily, latching awkwardly onto them due to your differences in height. Dys goes red and tenses right up, “Y-You--! You’re too much sometimes, you know that?” sputtering at the impact. He’s somewhat used to it, it appears, as he softens up a little. “Geez…love you, too.” he huffs, bashfully.

So that’s the fluttering in his chest? Love. Love. It’s love.

That has a nice ring to it, he smiles. Yes...he's in love with you.

#i was a teenage exocolonist #teenage exocolonist #teen exo #teen exo sym x reader #teen exo dys x reader #symbiosis x reader #dysthymia x reader #teen exo symbiosis x reader #teen exo dysthymia x reader #wrote this listening to a song #inspo'd by song fic #Spotify

[sergeantxrogers]

Updated: February 18th, 2024

this is a masterlist where you can find all my current works and it’s updated after every newly released fic !!

every nsfw piece of work is denoted by an asterisk (*), as well as an additional (18+) warning - MINORS DNI

personal favorites are denoted by a ⭐️

taglist can be found here

Drabbles

out of chaos we were born

Out of Chaos we were born: he, the darkness, and I, the light, for one cannot prosper without the presence of the other. 

One Shots

what’s in a name 

 Four times you call him Bucky, and the one time you call him James.

2:48 a.m.

It’s summer, Bucky can’t sleep, and you can’t rest without him.

so many kisses, so little time ⭐️

Six different ways Bucky kisses you.

black shirts and soggy cereal

 Bucky was your best friend, until he saw you wearing his shirt.

stupid, stupid boy

You’ve told Bucky a thousand times he wasn’t invincible, but he never listens.

missed you*

When Bucky finally got home, you realized you had missed each other more than you thought. (18+)

plan* ⭐️

“I was supposed to forget about you, and you were supposed to forget about me, but damn it if I could ever forget about you because since the day I saw you, you never left my mind and you were all I thought about,” he rambled, focusing on anything his eyes could land on that wasn’t you.

“You’re... you’re still all I think about,” he whispered, voice tired and beaten, like the very sentence had been waiting in his throat for years just to get a chance to come out in the open. (18+)

sanctified*

Bucky Barnes’ holy grail and safe haven are your body and soul, and after getting a taste of them, he finally knows what it means to be a sinner. (18+)

borderline

“You know what, Bucky? I feel like once you know someone’s there for you, and once you know they love you, you never actually think of them again. It’s not until you’re about to lose someone, that you finally pay attention.”

Adapted from Sam Levinson’s 2021 Malcolm and Marie. 

yayo

“I need you safe. I need you here, and I need you safe, and I need, God please, I need you to let me in, baby, just let me in and I promise I’ll make it all better,” his broken voice pleaded through the door.

“I know you can hear me and I know you’re hurting but I swear I didn’t do it. You gotta believe me, doll.”

Biker AU.

if you lie down with me ⭐️

“You know... it hasn’t been the same,” he said quietly, eyes lifting to meet yours. “It really hasn’t.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek, mulling over his words as your thoughts went a mile a minute. Your focus fell onto the black and gold peeking under his sleeve, reflecting the sunlight as he fidgeted with his fingers.

“I know,” you finally whispered. “I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again. Not when I feel homesick without you.”

the way i see things + dysthymia

“Baby- baby, oh my God, I thought something happened to you-“

The frantic voice sent daggers of pain throughout your skull, and you winced as you brought a hand to the back of your head. The words came to you through a fog, your ears ringing as your eyes focused on the man in front of you.

“I’m… I think I’m okay… who are you?”

blue neighbourhood

In a town full of self-righteous moms and their rich, suited husbands hiding secrets of infidelity, abuse and verges of bankruptcy, you felt utterly out of place. The target for all their jealous stares and mean comments, you were at your wits end trying to survive modern suburbia. It wasn’t your fault Bucky chose you, right?

Married AU.

carrying your love with me

Request:  Hi, I just read your latest work and it was great. Can you write about Bucky x reader are married. And reader is a plussize girl that has been insecure her whole life and she still is and is struggling to love herself and she doesn't think that she's enough for Bucky but she always pretends that she's okay and confident when she's with him.

something that we’re not

Just don’t fall in love. That was the only rule. It was literally the only rule, and it was already broken. 

pink ribbons

Request: Can you please write something with the idea of y/n asking Bucky if she can tie a pink ribbon around his bicep? Thank you

Series

l’appel du vide (DISCONTINUED)

Bucky spent years as an empty vessel for other people’s anger and malice, until his life slowed and he came to realize he liked the way she looked at him, because it made him feel whole again.

Set during the events of Captain America: Civil War.

turn a blind eye (COMPLETED) ⭐️

“Your work has been a gift to mankind. You shaped the century. And I need you to do it one more time.”

The Winter Soldier was cold. Brutal. Unflinching. A machine formulated to comply. Bucky Barnes was the sun warming your skin, your happy pill. Loving him was like bittersweet liquor, sickeningly sweet when you sip, harsh and burning when you swallow.

Assured by Dreams (COMPLETED) ⭐️

“Your job is to protect me, isn’t it?”

“With my life.”

“Then love me, too.”

Sir James had been tasked with one assignment and one assignment only: give you protection, even if he has to die for it. When your kingdom falls under siege from the East, and you’re ripped away from the comfortability of banquets, feasts and glittering tiaras, it’s up to him to save your life, and up to you to trust him. Only, Sir James never had falling in love with his princess written in his plan for salvation.

Royalty AU.

Money Power Glory (COMPLETED)

“Working with the feds now, lovie?”

“Unfortunately. They won’t find out, though.”

“I’d hate it if they did. You’re too pretty to kill.”

James “Bucky” Barnes, New York state’s most infamous organized crime leader since the 1980s. With Bucky weaving through the fingers of local police and the federal government for far too long, they decide to go with plan B: you. Your job? Simple. Relay inside information back to the FBI, slipping through the cracks of Bucky’s fortress of a crime ring as an unknown imposter. The Bureau, however, has no idea you and Bucky are much more acquainted than you let on.

Criminal AU.

One Shots

confused all the time

Bucky’s back, and Steve doesn’t know what to do with himself.

second choice + part II + part III* ⭐️

Steve’s drifted away from you, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

+ The aftermath

+ The beginning

my erato

You’re Steve’s favorite thing to paint.

daddy issues ⭐️

You need him like oxygen, and he doesn’t understand why his heart pulls him towards you even though he knows it shouldn’t.

we should just kiss like real people do*

“Why do you keep me a secret, Stevie?”

Blue eyes sank their sad gaze into yours, and his thumb brushed against your cheek. Shaking his head, his lips pressed softly against yours before he spoke.

“Not a secret. It’s just- everybody seems to think, with everything goin’ on, a girl is the last thing I need. But you keep me sane, baby, it’s why I need to steal these moments with you.” (18+)

one for the road + part II + part III + part IV

Clint had a wife? Clint had children? Steve was just as shocked as any of them to find out about Barton’s double life, yet what was even more shocking to him was Clint’s oldest daughter, who seemed to sink her claws into Steve’s skin the minute they met and keep them there, unremoved, as he felt himself get pulled deeper and deeper into the workings of her inner mind with every smile of hers.

american history

Request: "... I was thinking about Steve Rogers and a younger reader. I mean, I LOVE stories that imply an age gap, so if you could write this one for me it would be lovely! I am 19, but if you are uncomfortable with this age I totally understand..."

One Shots

till the end of time ⭐️

Thor is broken after losing everybody he loves. He can’t lose you too. 

in love with a war

“I’m so, so sorry, my love. I’m so sorry.”

The words were breathless and tired.

Thor stared at you as you blinked back your tears, his eyes glittering with his own.

“But I can’t live like this anymore,” you choked out. “I’m so tired and I’m always worried about you. And I know you’re always worried about me, and I can’t- I can’t do it anymore-“

One Shots

showgirl*

“My dove... do you know how much you’re worth?”

You shrugged.

“Grandmaster says a lot.” A cool finger wipes a tear from your cheek.

“No- not in that way. Not in the way he says it, like you’re something for sale. You’re worth something much more. You mean something much more, to me. Let me help you. I can help you.” (18+)

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers smut #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #masterlist #thor odinson #thor odinson x reader #thor odinson fanfiction #loki laufeyson #loki #loki x reader #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki laufeyson x reader