#synth writes

[hypersynx]

if i cant be a consistent combaticons valveplug artist then i'll be a WRITER (x reader)

[voidddrifter]

🌌Welcome to sleep deprived brainrot🌌

I am so fucking tired of changing this intro post every time my autism changes Hi guys the warframe addiction came back

Intro posts suck ass to make (something something I write every five blue moons).

Enjoy your stay, don't question my sanity. Or do. I can't stop you.

[syntheticavenger]

Thor and Steve flexing their powers post blip.

...brb, I am INSPIRED.

[syntheticavenger]

When I’m Reborn - Two

Red Skull: Arrogance may not be a uniquely American trait, but I must say you do it better than anyone. But there are limits to what even you can do, Captain, or did Erskine tell you otherwise?

Summary | After Thanos is defeated, the man you’ve loved is stripped of his super soldier form and returned back to his pre-serum body. As he mourns the loss, Steve turns his ire on you as he copes and searches for a way to turn back to the man he was once was.

A/N: Dark! Pre-Serum Steve Rogers x Female Reader.

18+ There will be non-con, Munchausen syndrome by proxy, violence and because it’s me, angst and a twist ending. In this second chapter, there are flashbacks to the life they used to live and a little insight into Steve’s new/old body and his health. Expect the next chapter to dive a little deeper into Steve’s psyche.

This is an idea based on this fantastic work of art, which I will continue to re-blog. This chapter is also inspired by Agnes Obel’s ‘Familiar’. As always, I love comments and re-blogs! Thank you for reading along if you are!

Previous: One

🔖 @caffiend-queen @jevans2 @river-soul @sapphirescrolls​ @liquorlaughslove​ @sophiria @jennmurawski13 @egcdeath @darkmcuficarchive @slutforsebstan @marvel-fandom23 @s0ftness​ @whisperlullaby​. If you would like to be tagged, let me know.

Time seemed to stand still, your thumb sliding past the photos on your phone rapidly, the gap in the dates jarring at the sight of the last picture you had taken of the sunrise on the day you were snapped. You had ceased to exist until now, snapping a picture of yourself you took a mere five minutes before, freshly showered and dressed in clothes you couldn’t remember buying in your closet. Bucky had let you know that Steve, Pepper and Natasha had continued to make sure everything had continued on like normal, the bills still paid, and the home you shared cleaned weekly per Pepper’s instructions. Bucky let you know that Steve could not bring himself to sleep in the apartment once you were gone, choosing to spend his days at the compound.

The stew simmered on the stove while you waited for any indication that Bucky and Steve were returning. The TV was on, coverage from the aftermath on every channel, broadcasting the devastation that occurred and the fall out of those who had died that had seemingly come back to life. A government nightmare that was still trying to be sorted through. Even with the captions underneath, you couldn’t focus, your eyes on your phone as you looked through pictures you’d saved of Steve. The ones you couldn’t bring yourself to delete that you'd favorited for easier access.

You’d been drawn to his strength, the way he effortlessly moved, fluid and powerful with every step. You liked the way his muscles rippled when he would reach for an item on the shelf that you knew he placed there, just out of your own grasp before you would ask for help. Sometimes that strength made you afraid, the way his shoulders would tense when you asked for more time together when his job took him away. The world had been in constant need of saving and Steve had made it clear that protecting the world was his priority. It was what he was meant to do, he'd remind you ever so often.

There were never arguments between you. Only questions that Steve would answer, his explanations leaving little margins left for discussion. It wasn’t that he was hard to please but more so that he was set in his ways, used to being in charge and he knew little of what it meant to be in a partnership, in a marriage. He knew how to take care of you and for a while, that had been enough. Your needs had been met, birthdays, anniversaries, and special occasions were never missed. Spontaneity was missing. You knew that now, in the way you glanced around the spacious penthouse you shared. Everything was classic, nothing too out of the ordinary. Steve was never ready for anything new.

At the sound of the key in the door, your head turned slowly toward the sound, blinking slowly to see Steve open the door. You resisted the urge to stand up and rush toward him, Bucky following behind while Steve’s eyes swept over the living room, his head barely lifting to gaze at the bare walls. His mouth was formed into a frown, his thin face washed out from the lights above. His clothes were new, a black sweater over a pair of gray slacks and boots that fit his new and yet old, frame. You could still make out his frail form as he cleared his throat, mumbling to Bucky who gave a short nod and punched the buttons on the thermostat. Within seconds, the heat began to seep through the vents, and you swallowed hard at the embarrassment that rose up in your chest. You should have known that he would have been cold. His body was much smaller now, no longer the furnace that kept you warm at night.

Bucky went back to the door, holding bags from various stores that he brought in as Steve stood, eyes transfixed on the TV as if he hadn’t noticed you sitting there.  

“Steve,” Bucky started to say, Steve’s eyes finally settling on you. “She’s been waiting for you.”

You inched toward the edge of your seat on the couch, tears forming in your eyes as he looked away in embarrassment.

“You made dinner,” Steve said quietly, with a small inhale of his nose. “Smells good.”

“I-I did,” you responded, getting up slowly. “Would you like some? It’s beef stew. Might warm you up from the cold.”

“Like in the old days,” Steve clipped with a shake of his head. “Nothing’s changed.”

You looked at Bucky questioningly, your hands pressed against your thighs. You wanted to hug him, to tell him everything was going to be okay.

“I missed you, Steve,” you countered quietly, slowly moving from the couch to stand.

For a moment, you saw life in his eyes again, the upturn of his lips briefly but enough for you to know that he responded in a way that was wholly his own, in this other body. Reserved but with a hint of compassion.

 “I missed you too. I didn’t know if I was ever going to see you again,” Steve started to speak, his jaw clenching, his emotions closing up his throat. “You aren’t supposed to see me like this.”

“I don’t care,” you urged, unsure if you could take a step closer as Bucky made his way down the hallway, disappearing from view. “You’re still Steve.”

“No,” Steve snapped, his hands on his thin hips as he looked around the room. “Not who I used to be. I was supposed to be the man that you saw before… before Thanos did what he did. I helped save the world and look at what it cost me.”

His shuddered breath of defeat hurt your heart.

“You’re still here,” you reminded him gently. “I know it doesn’t seem fair. It isn’t fair. But you saved us. All of us.”

“Nat’s gone. Tony too. Should have been me.” His voice held no emotion, his eyes still scanning the walls.

“I’m happy you’re still here,” you offered earnestly. “I’ll go set the table. Maybe Bucky will want to stay for dinner.”

“Bucky would love to,” Bucky answered you, the crinkle of the bags under his arms getting your attention as he rounded the corner.

You busied yourself in the kitchen, doling out the stew in three bowls with bottles of beer for Steve and Bucky and a glass of water for yourself. Pepper had stocked your fridge, leaving you a little note of encouragement. You vowed to pay her back, knowing she was probably just as lonely as you were. You felt guilty, placing the pitcher of water back into the fridge. Steve came home. Tony didn’t.

Hushed voices in the living room seemed to quiet at your presence, Steve looking back at the television while Bucky got to his feet.

“Dinner’s on the table,” you announced, chewing on your lip slightly while Bucky nudged Steve with his leg.

“Come on, punk. Gotta eat,” Bucky urged.

“Or else what? I’ll be skin and bones?” Steve asked sarcastically.

You sucked in a breath, turning around at the sight of Bucky’s irritated expression, his gray-blue eyes focused on Steve.

“Steve,” Bucky warned behind you. “Let’s just go eat, okay?”

You sat at the table as they both approached, one on either side of you as Bucky dug in and Steve picked up his spoon. You ate slowly in silence, the sound of the spoons barely tapping the bowls until Bucky cleared his throat.

“Thanks for this,” he spoke up with a meaningful look at Steve. “I actually haven’t had a home cooked meal since we came back. You really take for granted what you have until it’s gone.”

“Yeah,” Steve spoke up with a slight movement of his head. “This is nice. You didn’t have to do this.

“It’s okay. I wanted to do it,” you reminded them, grateful to have both of them at the table. “I forgot that I liked to cook. To have someone to cook for.”

Bucky gave you a reassuring smile as you ate slowly, wondering how the rest of the night would play out. Would he share the same bed with you or keep you at a distance? When the bowls were emptied, you got to your feet and collected them, heading to the sink to wash the dishes, turning the faucet on. The sound of chairs rumbling against the floor behind you caught your attention, the sound of shuffling feet and hushed voices leaving you behind. The water splashed over your fingers, cold but slowly moving to room temperature as your mind wandered.

Eight years of marriage, you thought to yourself, the water still spilling over your hands as you gripped a bowl in your hand. Five years in between the last that you had missed. On your third anniversary, Steve gifted you with a freshwater pearl necklace and you wondered if it was still sitting in your jewelry box. He’d surprised you with it during dinner, fastening it himself as he kissed your cheek. Those were happier times. The way he covered you with his jacket when the cold breeze made your teeth shatter and how he wrapped it around you and kept you close. You still remembered how it felt under your fingertips, your wet fingers pressing against the bowl.

“I’m going to bed,” a voice said behind you.

The sound made you jump, the bowl shattering in the sink, the steam from the scalding hot water curling in front of you. Steve reached over quickly, shutting off the faucet as Bucky rounded the corner to see you both standing at the sink.

Your palms were bright red at the high temperature, throbbing while you reached for the broken pieces of the bowl in the sink. Steve’s hand blocked yours from reaching for a sliver. You focused on how small it was now, the way the sink came to the middle of his chest instead of at his waist.

“Everything okay?” Bucky asked, your head turning toward him with tears in your eyes.

“I broke a bowl,” you informed him, looking back at Steve and the shattered pieces in the sink forlornly. “I can clean it up.”

“Just get her out of here,” Steve demanded. “I can move around my own place, you know. I know how to clean up a mess.”

“Steve,” you whispered, your hands still burning with pain.

“I said I got it,” he snapped, slightly dipping up on his toes to collect the pieces of the broken bowl. “I wasn’t helpless before and I’m not now.”

With heavy steps you moved away from the kitchen, Bucky sliding his arm around your shoulder as he inspected your hands.

“Let’s get something for those burns,” he suggested, walking behind you while you went inside the bathroom and pulled out numbing cream, something you’d bought when Steve would come home from missions, still sore as his body was regenerating. You could still hear Steve's relieved sighs, the way his body relaxed at your touch.

Bucky watched you from the doorway, the cream soothing you almost instantly as you struggled to put the cover back on the jar.

 “I got it,” Bucky offered, screwing the lid back before placing it back inside the cabinet. “It’s going to be a rough few days but it'll be okay. He just needs to get adjusted.”

You nodded, fresh tears pooling in your eyes.

“Did you see his chain?” Bucky asked, switching off the light while you reached the bed, looking at the empty space next to you.

When you shook your head, Bucky looked outside the door to make sure Steve was not there, the water still running before Bucky inhaled lightly.

“His wedding band doesn’t fit anymore, obviously. But he put it on the chain on his dog tags to keep it close to him. He won’t tell you that, not now but it’s there. Thought you’d want to know. I saw it while we were trying to get him clothes earlier.”

Your lower lip trembled violently, your fingers gripping the comforter.

“Can you stay tonight? The guest bedroom is clean,” you promised, your voice wavering with the incoming cry that you were trying to suppress.

“I’ll double check with Steve but if that helps then yeah, I don’t mind. Just lay down. It’s been a long day for both of you.”

Once the door closed in, you could hear their voices, the faucet shutting off as you remembered what it was like to have the body next to you in the bed. You turned on your side, reminiscing about the outline of how he would sleep, arm outstretched to have you snuggle closer. An anchor even in the sleepy hours of the night, keeping you afloat when your thoughts got away from you.

Sleep seeped into your eyelids before you heard a door close down the hall. There was a low cough and your eyes fluttered open. It was a sound you’d never heard before from Steve, deep in his chest as he moved through the darkened room, his eyes squinting as he walked slowly. He pulled off his sweater, heading into the closet while the soft rustle of clothes kept you still until he reemerged in a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that still seemed to hang off of him, despite the smaller size.

“Are you going to stay here tonight?” you asked him, his steps paused at the sound of your voice.

He cleared his throat before he looked over his shoulder.

“Yeah. Gotta take my medication first.”

He disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of the cabinet opening and the rattle of pills was overheard. The small puff of the inhaler made you push your face deeper into the pillow. All sounds you’d have to get used to hearing. The new normal.

Once he reached the bed, he sunk himself down and laid out on his back, much like he did when he was bigger, though there was no arm outstretched to bring you toward him, his eyes looking up at the ceiling. He was safe now, back home and under the same roof. You couldn’t help yourself with your question, still keeping your distance in case he denied you.

“Steve? Can… can I hug you?

Braced for rejection, your arms stayed at your sides, body ceasing any motion until Steve turned toward you. His arms outstretched slowly and you took the invitation, drawing close to his thin chest. His heart fluttered and you remembered his palpitations, squeezing your eyes shut as a tear ran down your cheek. Though he didn’t embrace you like he’d done before, you were grateful for this small allowance. You pulled the blankets around you both, focusing on his breathing before you said your final words before you went to sleep.

“I’m so glad you’re home.”

[syntheticavenger]

Coming Soon - When I’m Reborn

Abraham Erskine: Whatever happens tomorrow, you must promise me one thing. That you will stay who you are, not a perfect soldier, but a good man.

Summary | After Thanos is defeated, the man you’ve loved is stripped of his super soldier form and back to his pre-serum body. As he mourns who he once was, Steve turns his ire on you as he copes and searches for a way to turn back to the man he was once was.

A/N: Dark! Pre-Serum Steve Rogers x Female Reader.

Currently a WIP. This is a dark fic that will include non-con, Munchausen syndrome by proxy, heavy angst and violence.

If you would like to be tagged in this, please let me know. We’re looking at about five to six chapters, so not too long. Below is a small preview of where we begin. Title is based on the song Shrike by Hozier. Did I just give a hint of where this is going? Yes, yes I did.

This is an idea based on this fantastic work of art.

Certain things you remembered about Steve could no longer be spoken.

It was the first piece of advice you received upon making it to the compound, Bucky speaking in a hushed tone while your eyes took in the massive building. It felt like you had been asleep, something you now understood was due to the snap that decimated half of the world. You’d woken up inside your car, almost as if nothing had happened. Like you had been in a dream.

Lives had been altered. Those lost in the snap came back to find their loved ones had moved on. New marriages, relationships and bonds were formed, leaving those that came back to reconcile with the past and struggle with the future.

You hadn’t known what to expect when you first received the call. As far as you had known, Bucky Barnes had been sent to Wakanda to sort out his mind that had been corrupted due to Hydra. Now he stood near the front of the building, the long hair you’d come to recognize in pictures gone, replaced by a much shorter cut that had aged him from the photos you’d seen of him last. He looked more like a civilian than an Avenger, though the coat he wore with the insignia said otherwise.

You hadn’t known what transpired during the battle, only receiving a call when Steve’s phone continued to ring until Bucky had answered.

Steve was alive but damage had been done. Specifics that Bucky refused to talk about over the phone, instead urging you to come as soon as you could. You had no family left. Steve was your only anchor, a husband you’d married over four years ago, who you loved and adored with all your heart.

“He’s going to look a lot different when you see him,” Bucky cautioned, his mouth set in a thin line as you approached him. “I need you to understand that.”

“I understand,” you said quickly, unsure of why the conversation had suddenly turned tense.

“I mean it. You’re going to look at him and you’ll want to ask questions. You can’t. Whatever you remember about him, you have to understand that he’s going to look different. You have to accept it. Accept him.”

The impassioned plea was made from the heart with a heavy sense of conviction. You heard it in his tone, the way he swallowed down a lump in his throat as he guarded the door, waiting for your response. There had always been an awareness of the ironclad friendship between Steve and Bucky. The trip to Wakanda and Steve’s stay in the African country had been prolonged due to complications with Bucky’s treatment. Hydra had done a number on him, Shuri’s therapy more intense than anticipated and Steve had wanted to be there. You’d understood. Now, as you watched Bucky guard the door, you knew he was doing the same.

“I’ll accept him always,” you promised, Bucky’s gaze softening as he tried to smile at you, placing a hand on your shoulder as he squeezed it gently. It was meant to reassure you but you felt uneasy, still unsure of why you were being given a disclaimer.

“I hope that’s true,” Bucky replied wistfully. “Go on in.”

The anxiety that fluttered in your belly and the anticipation of seeing him did nothing to slow down your heartbeat that was currently jackhammering in your chest. With the push of the heavy door, the beeping of machines caught your attention, a small frame of a body in the hospital bed that made your eyes widen in shock.

[andsami]

sebklaine :)

leaves their dirty clothes on the floor: Sebastian, because he loves to annoy Kurt with things like that. 

forgets to run the dish washer: Blaine. And then they don’t have enough flatware to eat. 

pumps gas for the car: Usually Sebastian. 

drives when they’re going somewhere: The three of them take turns to drive. 

rearranges the furniture: Kurt and Blaine while Sebastian complains because he like it better like it was before. 

falls asleep with the TV on: Blaine when he’s waiting for the other two to get home from work.

gets to use the bathroom first: Blaine, since he’s the first one to wake up.

decides the temperature for the ac/heater: Kurt. 

sets up holiday decorations: The three of them together, though Sebastian likes to complain because he’s not a kid.

leaves the lights on: Blaine and sometimes Kurt, but Sebastian turns them off after them.

uses the bathroom with the door open: Sebastian. He also uses it while Kurt or Blaine are taking a shower. 

fixes the plumbing (or calls the plumber): Blaine, before Sebastian tries to fix it and make it worse.

[andsami]

SnowBarry

leaves their dirty clothes on the floor: Barry, but only when he takes a shower and forgets his clothes in the bathroom. 

forgets to run the dish washer: Barry. He always forgets to do half of the chores Caitlin asks him to do because he’s running late. 

pumps gas for the car: Caitlin, because she’s usually the one who drives. 

drives when they’re going somewhere: Caitlin. 

rearranges the furniture: Barry moves the furniture but it’s actually Caitlin who says where everything go. 

falls asleep with the TV on: Caitlin, and then Barry has to put her on her pj and take her to bed. 

gets to use the bathroom first: Barry, because he usually takes only a few minutes. 

decides the temperature for the ac/heater: Caitlin 

sets up holiday decorations: Both, but Barry always try to use his speed to finish faster. 

leaves the lights on: Neither one. 

uses the bathroom with the door open: Barry. 

fixes the plumbing (or calls the plumber): Both, they can usually fix all the things that break.

[andsami]

FABERRY!

leaves their dirty clothes on the floor: Neither one. Though Rachel usually leaverhers on a chair.

forgets torun the dish washer: Rachel, so Quinn usually leaves her post-its to remindher.

pumps gasfor the car: Quinn.

drives whenthey’re going somewhere: Quinn because Rachel doesn’t like to drive. Thoughthey take turns in long journeys.

rearrangesthe furniture: Both, though it’s never big changes.

fallsasleep with the TV on: Quinn. Usually while waiting for Rachel to get homeafter one of her rehearsals.

gets to usethe bathroom first: They kind of get ready at the same time. After a while,Rachel got comfortable enough to share the bathroom.

decides thetemperature for the ac/heater: Rachel, because she’s the only one who knowswhen the temperature is good for her voice.

sets upholiday decorations: Both and the house ends with a weird mix of Hanukah andChristmas decorations.

leaves thelights on: Rachel.

uses thebathroom with the door open: Neither one.

fixes theplumbing (or calls the plumber): Quinn. And she’s also the one who explainswhat’s wrong to the plumber.