#that’s a lie I still feel like an imposter but it takes time to undo those ideas and just because you still feel and know it’s wrong is ok | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

scarletarosa · 4 years ago

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This might be a bit of a long, rambly ask, so I apologize in advance but I find everything you talk about so fascinating. I'll try to break this down into parts:

Where did you learn all this? The great war, demons and pagan gods being pushed out and treated as evil, etc. Is there a book(s) on the topic or did you have to converse with spirits/Gods for this knowledge?

When it comes to the Great Usurper, what exactly is known about him? I remember you saying Lucifer came first, right? What's Jehovah's story, if you don't mind my asking (dunno if it's offensive to ask since he's the bad guy, right?)

Finally, I really am considering becoming Luciferian/Pagan after being a pretty hardline atheist for a while, but I'll admit, I'm scared to make the switch. I grew up in a pretty toxic Christian household, so I still have some trepidation about becoming religious again, even moreso with anything close to abrahamic beliefs.

I'm scared believing in Jehovah, even as a villain figure, will "prove my parents right" as silly as that sounds

And I'm ashamed to say that, even with everything I've learned, how much of it is lies, the idea of Hell or eternal damnation still scares me :/ I guess religious abuse does that to a person lol but I don't wanna give up, even as a "Christian" I was drawn to Lucifer and Satan and the Devil. Demons in general really, they were always so fascinating. So do you or the Gods have any tips on how to overcome all of that?

Sorry for the long ask, thank you for your time.

Hello sweetheart, thank you for asking <3

For your first questions, I devoted many years of my life to developing the ability to speak with spirits so I could communicate with the deities. Through this, I have been able to receive many answers from them about what their history is and about how every religion is a piece of the entire truth of things. There aren’t any true books that speak on these things and are usually written as theories.

For Jehovah, he had been created as one of the Aeonic deities whose tasks are to create the physical and metaphysical Universes. In short, Jehovah was not satisfied with himself nor his role and so sought to take claim over one of the planets, which unfortunately was this one. Due to his immense power as an Aeon, he was able to defend himself from the gods of this Universe and portray himself as the supreme god to humans, who easily fell for this and his manipulative teachings.

I can understand how anxiety-inducing it can feel to switch beliefs, especially for someone who started off Christian. It may take some time, but try to slowly bring yourself into seeing the world differently and try to reach out to some deities who interest you. As for believing in Jehovah, since he isn’t how the Bible portrays him at all and is actually an imposter, you aren’t proving them right but are realizing that what they worship is a lie that has brutally damaged this world and caused massacres.

Unfortunately, most of the things we are taught are built upon lies, even some basic history “facts” are hiding the truth. Though the Abrahamic religions are one of the greatest lies of all, built from people who sought dominion over others and built their religions on the bones of polytheists and their own myths. I can also assure you that Hell isn’t something for most people to worry about, only the worst sort of people get sent here (for crimes such as mass murder, destroying pagan religions, etc). So as long as you are a decent person and remain true to your path in life, you have no chance of being sent there.

As for working with demons, the first step is to basically work on undoing all of the Christian brainwashing of them being evil; some few are dangerous or corrupt, but the majority I’ve met are good-natured (which pretty much goes for many other races of beings). I would suggest working with perhaps one or two to begin with, just so you can adjust and learn first-hand what they tend to be like. Overall, the demons seek to help people evolve through adversity and teach one to question everything so they can seek truth hidden within darkness.

Some of the best demons to work with as a beginner are Lucifer, Lilith, Naema, Asmodeus, Aetherea, Vassago, Vual, or Orobas. If you want someone who tends to be very friendly, I’d suggest Orobas; Lilith tends to be motherly and Lucifer is a very wise mentor. These demons aren’t listed due to how kind they are (though they are very kind), these just tend to be the ones who are usually more willing to help a person figure things out and are easily approachable.

#asks

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thesaltyoceanwaves · 6 years ago

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Bewitched Part 4 (FINALE)

Ao3

@lenoreofraven

Today’s Musical Number: Breathin by Ariana Grande

Bonus Number: True by Marina (formely Marina and the Diamonds) (this song isn’t an official number, but I would recommend it anyway.)

"You remind me of a time when things weren't so complicated. All I need is to see your face." - Breathin, Ariana Grande

The only time she pushes herself to the point of complete physical exhaustion is when she’s trying to get a scoop for the Ladyblog. And in the year or so she’s been running the blog, Alya has managed to score amazing scoops aplenty. Sure, she threw herself in physical peril from time to time, probably more than she should have. And if Nora were to ever know just how much, she would never let her leave the house. But she always took comfort in the fact that all of her hard work paid off and cultivated in a successful but factual blog about her city’s hero.

As if that wasn’t enough, Alya also managed to juggle her blog with an acceptably active social life. Her boyfriend was not only an incredibly talented DJ (in her incredibly bias view), but also the superhero Carapace. While she didn’t care for fashion or celebrity life, she did think it was pretty cool to be friendly with well-known model Adrien Agreste, son of a famous fashion designer. And then there was Marinette, her clumsy, overworked friend who was head over heels for Adrien. But despite her failings, Marinette always meant through and could always be relied on to come through in the end.

Life was laid out to be perfect for the budding journalist.

In the past couple of weeks, Alya completely blew it.

Somehow, during that time, Alya managed to get on Marinette’s bad side, leaving her cursed and almost all alone at the school.

The key word was almost. Anyone left in the building all shared the same red mark on the forehead as her. Everyone else had been familiarized and followed Marinette out to retrieve the miraculouses. In her state, she wanted to leave the building, find Ladybug and get her own miraculous to save her friend, but she had no idea where to even begin looking. The curse also made things more difficult, with the only relief she could take was knowing that it didn’t affect her thoughts. It was only when she spoke or attempted to make an important decision that it came into play.

So, that left her in the classroom, with only a couple of people to keep her company. Lila, still forced into telling the truth, and almost constantly choking over her words. Max, who caused electronics to explode any time he went near them, with Kim practically wailed at the sight of his 3DS short-circuiting. Speaking of whom, the athlete was cursed to move at the pace of a snail. Poor Rose was sobbing in the corner, about… well, who knew at this point. She would cry at the drop of a dime.

The other corners were preoccupied by Mylene and Ivan, in what had to be the saddest case of being cursed. They were no longer acting the lovey-dovey couple they were well-known for being. Any time they tried to talk to each other, they would fall into constant arguing, and had to be kept apart because of how much it upset Rose. To be fair, Alya had to bite back some of her own tears upon hearing them say how much they detested each other.

There were a few attempts she made at starting conversation, or doing something proactive. “The akuma must be in her phone. Or maybe a present she got from Adrien?” “This wouldn’t have happened if she just agreed to date Adrien.” “The reason for her akumatization must be jealousy.”

Not only did she get hard glares from almost everyone left in the class, but she could occasionally feel the curse mark burn and sting. After a while, she had to keep her theorizing to herself.

She began by going back in time to when Lila first returned back to school. Or maybe even before that, when she first came. When everyone was hyping her up as this cool rich girl that had all sorts of celebrities on speed dial, including Ladybug. Marinette had been the only one that didn’t seem to like her, but Alya knew that it was just her jealousy of Adrien that created that tension. Even after her akumatization and brief withdrawal from school though, Marinette didn’t let up on the girl. Just how jealous could she be?

Her forehead stung yet again, and she winced. It subsided a bit, but there was a still a warm glow as she meditated on the events of Hero’s Day. Replaying the scene in her head, she thought about Marinette’s insistent fact-checking of Lila’s stories. Alya didn’t think much of it at the time. She was rich and the daughter of a diplomat, why would she lie about those sort of things?

But then again, Chloe was rich and the daughter of the mayor, and Alya knew she lied from time to time. Just because Lila was nicer than Chloe, didn’t mean she was incapable of lying.

She bit her lip.

The curse mark emitted a gentle, warm glow, as if to indicate she was onto something. Lila lying and being allowed to get away with it… yeah, Marinette would be upset about that. She hates liars. But… is that enough to get her akumatized? Lila would have been lying for weeks at this point…

She refocused her attention to the way things panned out with Adrien. Surely, Marinette had to be upset because she waited too long after he confessed, and he ended up dating Lila, right?

The harsh warmth returned. She clutched her forehead.

But that’s impossible! If she doesn’t like Lila, and she loves Adrien… what could be the issue then?

Alya knew Marinette was utterly crushed when Adrien rejected her, especially since she hadn’t meant to confess her feelings; he only overheard her and Lila in a fierce conversation, and had to pull her aside to turn her down. So when he did come around (as Alya predicted), she was confused as to why Marinette would say no. And when she finally did get an explanation, Marinette was pretty vague about some of the details. She simply said, “There’s been a misunderstanding. Things aren’t so simple between us right now. I’m sorry, but I can’t really talk about it.”

She raised an eyebrow at this. “You’re just running away, aren’t you?”

Alya didn’t give up on it though. She didn’t want to employ the tactic, but she might have slipped an idea to Adrien about making her jealous. He was all too eager to go along with it, but not so eager to fake date Lila. Still, he did it to try and get Marinette to come back around. It might have worked too, if it wasn’t timed so close to when Marinette left for China with her family.

The mark began to sizzle and she cringed, pressing her palm against it.

Maybe Marinette wasn’t jealous of Lila, just upset with Adrien?

The sizzling ceased.

The stunt with Lila must have upset her because she knew what Adrien was doing. She told Alya she just wanted some space to figure things out for herself. And when Adrien didn’t listen, she didn’t take it too well.

Now that she thought about it, Alya was doing the same thing to her too, wasn’t she?

She clutched her head in her hands. I really messed up, didn’t I?

With sudden clarity, Alya raced out of the classroom and into the streets, in search of Marinette.

She’s not going to mess up this time.

Felix’s transformation is dramatically different in terms of style. Gone is his vest and white button up and slacks. His new outfit looks more leathery and...

He sort of looks like Chat Noir. He even looks at Marinette with the same love befitting of the cat hero, but she isn’t afraid to share the look back at him. There’s a fondness that she no longer holds for Adrien.

Luka wasn’t sure that he wanted to be there to see that, but if Adrien were to show up and see all of this, he would want to be far outside of the city. Or at least transformed, but he couldn’t risk letting Marinette know he had the snake kwami. He needed an escape, but how?

“So impatient,” Marinette clucks her tongue, lowering herself down in front of the newly familiarized Felix, stroking his chin, “You were next in line, Chaton. Were you jealous? There’s no reason to be. I have love for you, Luka and Kagami. I want you to know that you are so dear to me, and for your kind words, I will place my trust in you.”

Smiles were rare for Felix, and seeing one might have brought a smile to Luka’s face. Instead, watching him smile and lean his cheek into Marinette’s touch reminded him of a plucked guitar string - a piece missing from making a complete range of sound.

Her gentle gaze turns away from Felix and back toward Luka. “It seemed I missed last time, but I won’t be this time.”

Just as she fires up the pink energy in her hand, Queen Bee, Chat Noir and Ryukōun land in front of them, prepared for attack. Her face hardens at the sight of the cat hero.

“M’lady, I’m here to save the day and make things right,” Chat Noir declares, “This time, I’ll show you that I’m the purr-fect guy for you!”

The two girls look to each other and groan, and Luka can’t help but be sick. He’s heard bad lyrics in his life, but nothing will ever top that. Marinette is the only one to look slightly inconvenienced by the whole ordeal.

“I only need one thing from you Chat Noir,” she declares coolly, “And I think we all know by now what that is,” she turns to the familiarized Felix, “Chaton, do me a favor and retrieve that imposter cat’s ring.”

Before Luka can react or really take in the scene, he feels a string wrap around him and pull him away from the fray. Somewhere, behind a building, Ryukōun regards him with a heavy look.

“I’d take the opportunity to transform if I were you,” she points out, “We’re going to need all the help we can get.”

“I’d rather not fight but…” Sass pops out of his pocket and gives him a gentle nod. “Give me just a sec. I’ll join you in a bit.”

She returned to the battle, just in time to witness Queen Bee get knocked into Chat Noir. Unfortunately, Venom was activated and it grazes Chat, leaving him immobile. She tries to rush over and help out, but Felix cuts her off, taking off the ring and undoing Adrien’s transformation.

Marinette smirks, petting her familiar. “Very good, Chaton. This creep will no longer be bothering us.”

Chloe’s transformation is about to wear off, and Kagami realizes the urgency of needing to get her out of the area. She has no doubt that Hawkmoth would be interested in obtaining more miraculouses for the sake of whatever plans he has in mind. And with the cat miraculous now in Felix’s hand, things are going to get messier.

She curses herself for thinking such a thing at the sight of Alya Cesaire running up to the group, clearly out of breath. Interestingly, the curse mark on her forehead is faint now, turning into more of a light pink color.

This catches Marinette’s attention.

“It seems you’ve come to realize your mistake, Alya,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest, “And would you care to explain what that is?”

The Ladyblogger is bent over, her hands on her knees as she’s trying to regain breath. Looking up to regard her friend, Alya says, “I’m sorry… I should have listened to you. I just thought I was doing what was best for you. But I realize… it was just about my own ego and what I wanted. I should have been a better friend.”

The symbol changes shape and is now a clearly more defined pink. At the sight of this, Marinette smirks.

“Very good. You shall be spared.”

A pink beam is fired in Alya’s direction. Content with the transformation, the newly made familiar takes a stance next to Felix.

They’re almost down two miraculous users already, and Marinette has an army of who knows how many familiars by this point. And now, she’s glaring down Adrien with the most wicked glare of the entire day.

She zaps him with a red beam. “Adrien Agreste. You invaded my privacy, my space, and ruined my happiness. And so, you shall be cursed so that no matter how long you chase, no matter how close you get, you will never be able to get me. Every time you try, you’ll only manage to set yourself back.”

Before Adrien can object, he poofs into thin air. And to make matters worse, Chloe’s transformation is entirely undone, leaving her defenseless.

“Hey, what happened to Adrien?” Chloe demands.

“Nothing nefarious, I assure you,” Marinette sighs, looking rather bored with the exchange, “Despite what he’s done to me, I wouldn’t go that far. No, he’s somewhere in this city, far away enough from me. He won’t be hurting me again.”

Part of her feels unsympathetic toward the blonde. He pushed and pushed Marinette, and now he was finally getting what he deserved. She could understand Marinette’s motivations and actions in a way.

But the rational part of her knows that she can’t just leave Adrien all alone. Someone has to keep tabs on him, especially if he decides to do something rash.

“Get out of here,” Kagami says, catching Chloe with the yo-yo and spinning her off in another direction, “And go and find Adrien!”

The blonde huffs at the request, but wastes no time getting out of the area. That just leaves her with Marinette.

What is taking Luka so long? All he needs to do is transform and get out here!

All of the ire and spite that plagued her dissipates. She only regards Kagami with a chilling warmth. Kagami wraps her fingers around the yo-yo, prepared for anything Marinette has to throw at them.

“There’s no need for that,” Marinette insists, “I’m not going to hurt you. And with Adrien out of the way, our nightmares are quelled.”

“Are you nightmares really quelled, Marinette?” Kagami asks, “You might think that because you cursed him and anyone else that hurt you. But that hurt in your heart? Everything you went through? Can you just forget about that?”

“Why would you say something like that? None of that stuff matters now.”

“That’s not true,” someone interrupts.

The newly created snake hero leaps over to them, his lyre out and at the ready. There’s a moment of silence as he and Marinette pass a look. Kagami can’t decide if she’s relieved that he’s finally on the scene or more on edge thinking about what’s about to happen.

“What are you doing?” she asks, regarding him with a frown. “I hope you don’t plan on fighting me.”

“I know I can’t fight you,” he answers quietly, “But I do wish to help you. Just listen,” he says, strumming the strings of the lyre, “And tell me what you hear.”

She frowns, preparing to fire at him. A flash of purple over eyes seems to be persuading her to do it, but she hesitates.

“Please,” he asks quietly, “If it hurts too much, you can do whatever you want to me in retaliation.”

Kagami is about to ask him if he’s out of his mind, but when she glances over to him, she sees that his expression remains firm and serious. She didn’t think an akuma attack like this would get her to see such different sides of him.

Marinette must have been thinking the same thing, because she lowers her hand, and the color in her hands fades out.

“Fine,” Marinette huffs, “I suppose I can grant that request.”

Gently, his fingers graze against the strings of the harp. His eyes are closed and he’s deep in though, and yet he doesn’t look the least bit worried. Almost as if there’s mutual assurance that she’s not going to do anything to her.

Kagami can only watch as Luka plays the harp, and Marinette starts singing along. At first, she feels like a bit of an intruder, a third party that wasn’t meant to hear this song. But then she remembers Felix, whose expression starts to soften, and his body relax. Kagami can’t help but place a hand over her heart as she allows the music to soothe her senses.

When she looks up at the witch akuma, she can see that tears have started to dot her eyes, until she’s finally crying and her hands cover the rest of her face up.

“What have I done?” she sobs.

“It’s okay,” Luka insists, “We can fix this.”

Kagami dares to take a step closer to her. “Marinette, please, let us have the akuma.”

It takes her a moment to agree to it, as the flash of purple returns to argue against it, but Kagami thinks she hears a yes. Underneath the collar of the shirt, she unties a ribbon as she lowers herself to the ground. With a single tug, the akuma is out and about, and Kagami wastes no time cleansing it and casting the miraculous healing.

Marinette is still crying as her form falls. Nudging to a now free Felix to watch over her for a moment, Kagami and Luka make a quick escape in the chaos to allow their transformations to fall. She takes the earrings out before making her way back to Marinette, who is sobbing in Felix’s arms.

“I’m sorry,” she says in between breaths.

“It’s okay. You’re okay. Now, let’s get you home.”

---

She stares at the ceiling of her bedroom for hours.

After the akumatization wore off, Marinette’s memory of events was a bit fuzzy. She remembers Felix, Kagami and Luka comforting her. Then nothing. Then having her parents’ arms wrapped around her. And then somehow being in her bedroom, the lights dimmed,

She couldn’t sleep. She needed to, so badly. But sleep would not overtake her.

Turning herself over to look over the bottom part of the room, her fingers curl over the edges of her diary.

So many words and thoughts in her mind. But none of them will easily translate to the page. And so she sinks deeper into the angry, bitter thoughts that overtook her. She isn’t going to catch a single wink of sleep that night, even as she tries to will herself into deep slumber.

All she can think about is how school is going to suck tomorrow.

Her phone, which had been charging on the shelf above her bed, flashes with some new messages on screen.

Luka: Just wanted to check and see if you were alright. If you’re up for it, would you like to hang out tomorrow?

Kagami: I hope you’re doing a bit better. Remember, you can always talk to me if something is bothering you. It will get better, and there are plenty of other people willing to talk with you, if you wish.

Felix: Please take care of yourself. I’m here to help with whatever you need.

She lets out a deep breath. Alya might be more of a wild card in this scenario, but she at least had backup. Tomorrow was still going to suck.

But she wasn’t facing tomorrow, or Adrien, alone anymore.

---

END ACT 2.

#miraculous ladybug #ml salt #ml salt fic #nice guy adrien #nice guy adrien au #nice guy adrien the musical #adrien salt #akumanette #akumatized marinette #chameleon salt

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galwednesday · 7 years ago

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@chibisquirt: Do you ever do soulmate stuff? How about a soulmate take on Steve/ (somebody of your choice)?

I saw this and had to laugh, because at some point when I opened prompts a year ago, you sent me an All Caps soulmate prompt that I wrote this ficlet for, after first getting an idea for a much less silly fic that wanted to be MUCH LONGER, and guess what one of the many WIPs I’m procrastinating on is? In lieu of a new ficlet, here’s a chunk of that WIP:

Sam didn’t know what the driver was seeing, had no idea what he was thinking or feeling. As soon as he’d lost sight of the man wearing the Captain America costume, doubt had crept in--it was a trick of the light, Sam was coming down off a combat high and his emotions were clouding his judgment, it was a deliberate deception by SHIELD, anything and everything except the man really being Steve Rogers. It couldn’t be real, couldn’t be him. His whole life, Sam had known that his soulmates were dead.

But Sam didn’t jump out of the car. If there was a chance, even just a chance, that Steve Rogers was alive, Sam needed to know.

(continues beyond the cut)

The car stopped in the garment district. The driver turned to look at him, her face calm, the authority in her voice absolute. “Stay in the car.”

“I was a soldier, you know,” he told her.

“Are you currently armed?”

Just with the knife in his boot. He’d gotten into the habit of carrying it overseas, less for combat and more for the assurance that he could cut through a soldier’s uniform to reach an injury, or through his own flight harness if he crashed and got tangled up in the wreckage. Sam shook his head. That wasn’t the kind of armed Hill meant, and he knew he was being a dumbass, anyway. SHIELD had always been clear that the only reason they weren’t surrounding him with 24/7 bodyguards was that obscurity was a more effective defense than personnel. He was just tired, all his nerves frayed, and it chafed to be treated like a civilian when he felt like he was suddenly back in a warzone.

“Then you need to stay in the car.”

Sam sighed and slumped back, fighting for the self-restraint to not kick the seat in front of him like a frustrated toddler. Whatever role Hill had played in the invasion, it was a safe bet her day had been longer and worse than his. Giving her a hard time now wouldn’t get him anywhere, and probably none of this was her fault.

It was hard to be fair about that with Steve Rogers is alive still ringing in his ears. It could be a lie, a manipulation, but if it was, it was going to be transparently obvious the moment they put Sam in the same room as the imposter. Soulmate bonds couldn’t be faked.

Hill came back a couple minutes later and opened the door. “They’re ready for you.”

She escorted Sam through the doors of a textile showroom, the bolts of colorful fabric looking ludicrously vibrant after a day spent sifting through concrete dust. There were two agents standing at the foot of a staircase leading up to an office on the second floor. One of them went ahead of Sam, one falling in step behind, while Hill took up the guard position on the staircase.

When the man opened the door to the office, Sam saw it was already occupied. Fury was there, and a handful of agents, and that was all Sam had time to see before his eyes locked onto the man sitting on the edge of the desk, looking at Fury with wary annoyance. He was blond, broad-shouldered, wearing a too-tight shirt emblazoned with the SHIELD logo. His face was unmistakable.

Sam had spent a lot of time pouring over archival footage of Captain Rogers, and this man was either him, or his clone.

“Glad you could make it,” Fury said. Sam barely heard him. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Steve Rogers.

Steve only glanced at Sam and the agent who’d come in with him before his gaze settled back on Fury. His clothes were clean and his hair was wet, like Fury had pulled him out of the shower for this meeting, or told him to clean up before it.

“Captain Rogers,” Fury said, “meet Sam Wilson.”

Steve’s head snapped around to face Sam, his eyes wide and utterly shocked. Sam had been braced for a my soulmate is black? double-take, but this was way beyond that, and Sam realized Fury hadn’t warned Steve about who was coming to see him.

“Hi,” Sam said, hopelessly banal. “It’s good to meet you.”

Steve was sure looking at him now. He still looked stunned more than anything, but when Sam reached out a hand, Steve stood up to take it, his movements jerky and too fast. “You’re Sam Wilson?”

“Yeah.” Sam had to remind himself to let go of Steve’s hand. They stood a few feet apart, staring at each other, both at a loss. Sam hadn’t expected meeting his soulmate to be so damn awkward.

Steve opened his mouth, then shut it. The shock was easing into the same hard wariness he had worn when Sam first came in the door. The realization almost made Sam laugh; Steve didn’t believe him.

Fury was looking as mild as you please, but the other men in the room weren’t as good at controlling their faces. The ones behind Steve had their hands near their holsters. Fury, what the fuck have you and SHIELD been doing to this guy?

On second thought, what had Steve done to them? One of the men in the room, the one with his hand actually on the grip of his gun, had a big handprint bruise along half his neck, mostly faded, too old to be from fighting during the invasion. How had Steve reacted to crashing in wartime and waking up in unfamiliar hands?

Sam felt the familiar irritation of going into an op with bad intel, and carefully set it aside. He’d had practice at this. Treating this like a mission helped him calm down enough to think things through.

Who’s hurting? Steve. What’s he need?

Sam looked at Steve, thought about how disorienting it must have been to wake up alone in a strange new world, and the answer came easy.

Someone to trust.

Sam’s awareness of the other people in the room, all of them watching closely, made his skin crawl, but there was no help for it. Steve wasn’t going to believe Sam was his soulmate without proof. Sam pushed up his sleeves and started undoing the cuff buttons.

“Director Fury,” Steve said sharply.

“We’ll be outside,” Fury said, and just like that, everyone else in the room filed out, Fury closing the door as he stepped out last.

Sam waited until the door shut to start moving again. He unbuttoned his left wrist cuff first, folded the fabric back to his elbow, and held his arm out to Steve. It was the first time he’d shown his mark to another person since the day it had arrived.

Steven Grant Rogers. Steve looked at it for a few seconds, then took a deep breath.

“Could you--may I see the other one? Please.” Steve’s whole body was rigid, his hands clasped behind his back. Sam wondered if they were shaking. Sam’s hands weren’t; his whole body had reverted back to combat mode under the force of the adrenaline, and combat medics developed steady hands.

Sam peeled back the other cuff, revealing James Buchanan Barnes in much neater handwriting. Steve stared at the name for a few frozen moments before his face crumpled. His hands flew up to cover it, his shoulders hunching forward.

“Oh, hey--” Sam couldn’t stop himself from reaching out, lightly touching Steve’s arm. “Fury didn’t tell you I was coming, did he? I’m sorry to spring this on you, man. I know it’s a lot.”

“It’s fine,” Steve said, his voice a lot steadier than Sam expected. When Steve dropped his hands, his face was already back under control, although his eyes and nose were reddened. “Sorry. Thank you for showing me.” His hand hovered over Sam’s left wrist. “May I?”

“Be my guest.”

Steve traced his name on Sam’s skin, all the breath shuddering out of him as his fingers made contact. “Sam,” he said, voice raw. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“Hey, I wasn’t waiting,” Sam said. “I thought you were dead.”

Steve huffed something that might have been a laugh. “I don’t know if that’s better or worse. Oh, sorry. Here, let me just--” He pressed his thumbs to each of his wrists, the matte black material of the cuffs suddenly interrupted by rectangular blue panels showing 0 - 9, like a PIN screen, running down his forearms. Steve tapped a ten-digit code into each cuff. The cuffs split down an invisible seam and fell aside.

“Wow,” Sam said, staring. “And I thought SHIELD was paranoid about my marks.”

“It’s some kind of nanotechnology, I don’t know, Stark made it. All the active duty agents wear them. Everyone told me not to go without them unless I was in the shower. I didn’t get what the big deal was.” Steve held his arms in front of him, inviting Sam to look. “I thought you were gone already, that we’d lost our chance to find you. Never thought I’d get a second chance at this.”

Steve’s James Buchanan Barnes looked exactly like Sam’s. Sam ran a thumb over it just to acknowledge it, acknowledge him, their missing third. Steve didn’t say anything, but he stopped breathing, and didn’t start again until Sam’s thumb lifted off of his skin.

Sam touched the first S in Samuel Thomas Wilson on Steve’s other wrist, then flinched away from the sudden tingling heat in his fingertip. “Woah.”

“You’ve never--of course you’ve never.”

“No,” Sam said hoarsely. Steve and Bucky might have touched each other’s marks every day for all Sam knew, but Sam had never had this.

“Go ahead,” Steve said, his voice weirdly gentle. He held his arm out, patient and steady.

Sam touched the W in Wilson, braced this time for the sensation, which was like pins and needles mixed with the wash of a hot shower, a rushing, vital feeling of energy and connection. He knew what it meant now that soulmarks couldn’t be faked. The feeling he got from touching his name on Steve’s skin was one of absolute certainty. He and this man were made for each other.

“Hey,” he said softly, not really paying attention to what he was saying. Steve was smiling at him, his eyes still a little red at the edges. “There you are.”

“Yeah.” Steve wrapped his fingers around Sam’s wrist and sighed like a man sitting down after being on his feet all day, relief and pain and comfort all in one. “I’m here.”

#ficlets and headcanons #sneak preview #soulmate AU #it's been very slow going on this one but I'm such a sucker for All Caps

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ilosttrackofthings · 8 years ago

Text

I know I usually ask for ship prompts when I do the one-to-five sentence fics thing, but there are some ships I’m always sure to get so I’m cutting out the middle man. I hope you guys enjoy these biospecialist ficlets.

lesson

In the lab, Fitz is pouting - loudly - about being “abandoned” and Skye is playing Devil’s advocate, trying to entice him to follow Jemma’s example by heading down to the target range set up in the isolated field the Bus is currently parked in. Jemma privately hopes Fitz’s pride prevents him from doing so. While she’s not all that interested in proper firearm technique, she is very interested in the heat of Ward’s chest at her back and the feel of his calluses on the soft skin of her hands as he adjusts her stance, and she’d like to enjoy it in peace.

sauna

“Stop it,” Simmons says sternly. Her fingers are busy giving up, swiftly undoing the last few buttons on her blouse so she can toss it away.

“Stop what?” he asks, all innocence.

She glares. “You’re using your newfound powers to increase the temperature in our prison in order to aggravate me. Stop. It.”

“Or our captors are increasing the temperature as a prelude to interrogation and it’s just not affecting me because of my powers.” It’s a valid theory and her angry huff says she can’t deny it. Doesn’t mean it’s true though. He is absolutely, shamelessly, driving the temperature higher. He just wonders how much longer before she ditches those jeans.

uncle

All Grant can see is Thomas, ten years old and coughing up water while he pleads for the rope to be let down. He’s barely even aware of Simmons twisting away from him or the cattle prod in his hand or the terror in her eyes; all he knows is that somewhere out in the world his little brother is being tortured by Coulson and nothing else matters.

“I cheated at Scrabble!”

Grant pauses with the end of the prod hovering inches from Simmons’ skin.

“I cheated at Scrabble,” she says again. “That’s how I always won.”

It’s not even close to the answer he came in here demanding and for some reason that makes it better. The cattle prod hits the floor and Grant follows a second later, laughing until he can’t breathe for crying.

mistake

Aldridge is good, good enough she’s quickly become one of Grant’s favorites, and he knows her well enough at this point not to be surprised to find her making out with the enemy. She likes to play with her food, nothing wrong with that. Usually she’s got a good reason - intel or snagging a weapon - and sometimes it’s just for the fun of it. And Grant never begrudges her her fun, not until he comes around the corner of the lab they’re raiding and sees her kissing Jemma fucking Simmons.

It’s been more than a year since he abandoned his play for Simmons’ affections - a strategic move meant to keep that genius brain of hers from catching on he wasn’t the awkward SHIELD specialist he was playing - so there’s no reason his first thought when he sees them pawing at each other should be an almost violent “mine!”

And even less reason he should be turned on when it’s Simmons who comes away with Aldridge’s sidearm, but he is, and that’s why he takes the extra second to pull out his ICER instead of paying her back for that shit she pulled in the Arctic.

asphyxiation

The most important thing, Jemma thinks, when dealing with the Ward imposter, is to go along with his lies. Either he’s trying to trick her, in which case it would be best not to alert him to the fact that she’s onto him, or he genuinely believes himself to be Ward, in which case she’d rather not antagonize him by pointing out he’s a complete nutter.

“So why,” she asks slowly, “have you chosen to, erm, protect me?” If being locked in a remote bunker with a madman counts as protection.

“I thought about Skye,” he says, and though she knows he’s an imposter, it doesn’t stop her heart constricting painfully that Skye would have been his first choice, “but John still needs the drug and I can’t-” He shakes his head. “You drowned. Eight weeks from now. And everyone blamed me, so…” He shrugs it off, the news of her gruesome death.

She doesn’t. She tucks that timeframe away because if the team hasn’t rescued her in eight weeks, she can only too easily imagine the direction this delusion will take him.

hate

“I hate you,” she says. Under normal circumstances he’d laugh because her hands under his shirt and the way she moans when he bites down on her breast through her bra all kinda undermine the statement. But these aren’t normal circumstances; they’ve been infected with something, inhibitions lowered, libidos gone driven through the roof, and all he can think is how good she’s gonna look when she’s naked beneath him.

curtain

With the others all busy working to get communications back up or the van running again (or, preferably, both), it falls to Grant to hold up a beach towel so Simmons can change out of the bikini she wore for her portion of the undercover work. He does not bother to point out to anyone that, given their differences in height, there’s really no way for him not to see, well, everything happening on the other side of the towel. At least this clusterfuck of a mission has a silver lining.

cut

“…to change the banda- Don’t do that,” she warns sternly when he starts running a finger idly over the bandage, following the line of the wound beneath.

He keeps his eyes on the bright light overhead. If he lets them slip halfway shut, he can just remember the way it glowed in her hair when she bent over him a few hours ago. And that memory sparks the pleasant one that colored his dreams after she had him sedated. “Do you ever think about Amsterdam?”

He turns his head on the pillow in time to see her skin going the same shade of pink it was when she was beneath him, gasping his name.

“I do,” he confesses, looking to the light again. “All the time.”

water

She dreams about bobbing in the ocean with Ward. The sun on her face, the sharp spray against her cheek. Water, water everywhere…

She wakes up with sand clinging to her cheek in that never ending twilight and wraps her arms around herself, trying to bring back the phantom memory of his arms holding her close.

liar

“Bloom, right?”

Jemma pauses her struggling against the ropes to ask, “Bloom what?”

“Octavian Bloom,” Ward says. “He doesn’t love it the way Whitehall does, but I gotta say the man knows what he’s doing; this has his fingerprints all over it.”

That he’s pointing to her while he speaks doesn’t strike her as promising. “What does?” she asks tiredly. She’s been kidnapped for less than an hour and she’s already beyond done with him.

“The job he did brainwashing you.”

She barks out a laugh before she can stop herself. “You think I’m brainwashed?”

Ward sits forward in his chair, an unnervingly pleasant smile on his face. “I spent ten months learning this team inside and out and I can tell you fact number one about Jemma Simmons is that she cannot lie. You’re either brainwashed or an imposter.” He pulls a very long, very sharp knife out of nowhere and examines it. “But don’t worry, I’ll find out which soon enough.”

#shineyma #needs some cheer #hopefully these help #biospecialist #my fic #*td #biospec fic

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