spaces_between | The Soul Bond Meme

The Soul Bond Meme

"I can't live without you...literally."

Wake up. Do what you have to. Work. School. Save the world. Avenge your father's death. Go back to sleep. Average day, for human, demon, sailor scout, angel, slayer, what have you. Though there's some part of you that wonders, in the back of your mind, if this is the day you'll meet your bond.

Because your world is just like ours - or how yours was, in another universe - but with one addition: the soul bond. The soul bond is a concept as old as time itself. People don't question the process, it just is. Some say that it comes from the beginning of time, where each soul was created in a pair, and throughout the lifetimes those souls are reborn into, they search for each other. This is the soul bond. Even if that's mostly faded into myth, it's generally excepted that there is only only one person for anyone. So, soulmates.

Not exactly. Soul bonds are more. They are about the joining of bodies: sexually and psychically. The bond isn't necessarily about love, though the close connection facilitates that emotion growing, and some fondness does appear in almost every case. It's bigger than love, bigger than hate, bigger than anything else; it's finding yourself in someone else, and your never wanting to lose that. Needless to say, the soul bond is the cornerstone of life and society. Marriage is reserved for the bonded, and you're expected to be searching for that other half. There's a good biological reason for that, too, as the unbonded cannot reproduce and those who have not found their bond are doomed to die extremely early in comparison to their peers and in a most painful, withering fashion. Who would want that?

In this world, sex is had with those who are not the other half of your bond, even if society considers that frivolous. For the truth is, sex with any other will never be as good as sex with your other half. When you make love to someone who isn't yours, you'll know it. It's a disappointment.

When you so much as see your bond for the first time, or at least for the first time after you've reached sexual maturity, you'll know, even if you're already "with" someone else. The signs are inescapable. You'll know it's them. You'll become hyper-focused on them, your heart will race, your muscles tighten, your brain shoot off every signal it nose...and you will become aroused beyond belief. Any arousal you've had prior pales in comparison. So go ahead, if you don't want a bond, ignore it. Try. It won't work. The more you ignore it, the more control you'll lose. Did I forget to mention? In this world, sexual drives are a little more animalistic than usual. They would have to be when the mainstay of the races is a sexual-based bond. Those who try to ward off the desire to become one with their other half can achieve mild success - until they absolutely lose themselves. It's not uncommon to see bonds going at it in the streets, unabashed and unashamed, for trying to hold off the inevitable. Sex between bonds in public, generally, is not looked down upon.

You've given in. Of course you did. But what now? The first time you have sex with your bond, it will be beyond compare. You will share memories with each other, as this is the opening of your psychic connection with them. Yes, psychic connection. How would you expect to be truly bonded otherwise? How strong this link is depends on how often you have sex. Even at baseline, though, you'll know if your bond is hurt or in trouble. Fair warning: this will pull at that animal brain, and you will go into a beserker mode to get them back with you. Similarly, you will behave in a territorial manner if you feel the bond is threatened; jealousy often results in shameless public sex, in hopes to re-establish the strength of your connection and make your bond realize that YOU'RE the other part of them, no one else. In addition, bonds don't handle separation well and each partner will be antsy and on edge. It can be done, and most pairs do because of work, duties, and life in general, but returns are usually accompanied by sometimes days-long sex sessions.

Aside from those quirks, the bonding process can be quite useful. A bond can calm you down, and sex with your bond can serve as the ultimate relaxer. Your bond is the one who can heal you, and sex boosts your strength and power. Yes, those of you looking to achieve your ultimate goal...or ultimate form. Being a bond makes you stronger. Don't resist, no matter how surly you are.

The bond is no respecter of person. Outside of sexuality such as straight or gay, types or species don't matter. You could be bonded with someone as different from you as night and day. However, no matter what the case, you'll begin to care for them in some fashion. You'll feel the need to be with each other as much as possible, both sexually and otherwise. They'll become the most important person in the world to you. Of course, this is assuming your bond is someone you can feasibly be with. Perhaps there is some truth to that reincarnation business, as sometimes, those souls are reborn into people who are never meant to be bonds - warring tribes, at-odds species, and even relatives or people with a great amount of age between them.

The bond is permanent. This is the person you were meant to be with, after all, until you die (and soul bonds usually die within years of each other). Theoretically, though, it can be broken. Mostly, this is done when one side betrays the other side somehow. As the bond is initiated through sex, it's broken in the same way. What happens next is rarely pretty. Police reports usually find the bodies of the dead bonded, cause of death specifically unknown.

Head spinning yet? It shouldn't be! This is the world you live in.

rules
- Comment with your character, preferences, what you're interested in, and what you're not interested in.
- Crosscanon tagging is expected and encouraged. Mention if you want to make some kind of canon-insertion AU with one of the characters or just have a nebulous AU.

prompts

Meeting - You see your bond in that way for the first time, and it's done. You're done. You have to have them to be complete.

Trying to Fight It - No, you're the type who rebels against this whole "soul bond" system. You're the master of your own design, and you won't give in despite the fact that you could just start masturbating right now.

Failure to Fight - The whole fighting thing didn't work out, and now you're going at each other like you'll die of thirst.

First Time - The legendary first time with soaring sensations, amazing orgasms, and the sharing of memories.

Not the Sharing Type - You're a private person and don't want your brain in someone else's. How can you reconcile this? Maybe doing the act can change your mind. Or maybe you just want relief so badly, you don't care.

Feedback - You feel all of your partners pleasure as well as their pain. If you can't come up with something kinky, I can't help you.

Dirty Thoughts - You know what's naughty? Sending mental images of what you'd like to do to your bond through your connection. It's like mental sexting - or a fun way to torture them.

Learning About Each Other - You're learning what both of you like and don't like and sharing as you go.

Jealousy - Someone tried to approach your bond and it made you a bit miffed. Now it's time for some affirmation of the connection and to make sure that you're still on their mind.

Rough Bond - Your bond is more hate than love sometimes, but it's a thin line. Besides, you still care more about them than anyone else, and god forbid someone hurt them. Besides, rough sex is fun.

Separation - You'll be apart for a while. You need one last hurrah

Reunion - You're back together. Now to make up for lost time. Not just because you want to, either.

Public - Remember how I said sex in public is accepted for bonds. Why not take advantage?

Chasing That High - You keep having sex with people, trying to find you bond.

Chasing That Low - In contrast to the above, you're trying to keep away from a bond by desensitizing yourself to sex.

Bond Party - Some young people throw "mixers" where, hopefully, you may meet your bond. Experimentation is bound to happen...even experimentation with multiple people at the same time, trying to find that one.

Can Never Be - Your bond is with someone you shouldn't have one with. They're your sworn enemy, your teacher, or your sibling. Your body and soul says yes, but your mind says no.

Strengthen - You need energy to defeat the big bad or rule the world. Go to your bond and recharge.

Comfort - A bond is often the only one who can calm their other half down, and that sometimes happens through a grounding via sex, bringing the upset party back to what really matters.

Healing - Healing wounds and healing the connection all comes down to body pressed against body. Just be careful of blood.

Long Time Bond - You've been together for some time now and you know each other like the back of your hands. You can make them come in ten seconds flat if need be, but it's more fun to drag things out, isn't it?

Ritual - You want to make your bond official in the eyes of the government. Unsurprisingly, the marriage ceremony is ritualistic sex.

Impregnation - There's no fertilization between the eggs and sperm of non-bonds, so one surefire way to make sure everything's on the up and up is to get pregnant.
Mind Games - Being psychically connected is all good until they fuck with your head.

Dependency - It's not always easy, being for, all intents and purposes, addicted to a person. You need them like you need breathing, and you'll take what you can even if you're ashamed.

Already with Someone - You love someone, but they're not your bond. Can they keep you when you meet your real bond?

I'm Not Yours, You're Not Mine - You know you're not bonds. Still you want them to stay with you and you'll do anything and try to be better.

False Bond - You thought you were bonded, you really did, until you met them

Faking It - There are benefits to faking a bond, including for safety, financial gain, and to secure alliances. Of course, you can't fake it in the bedroom.

Manipulating - You'll get what you want, even if you have to lie and pretend you're bonded to them...how you can fake that, no one knows, but it's worth a shot.

It's Not Me, It's You - Sometimes, mistakes are made. They're your bond, but you're not theirs.

Break the Bond - Because you have a death wish or a snuff kink.

My Ex-Lover is Dead - Your soul bond is gone and you're trying to fill the gap.

OR MAKE UP YOUR OWN

Now made with 10x more awful because Brock Rumlow is involved in it. I regret nothing and neither should any of you.

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"Yeah, no offense, but I'm not looking to cement it," he said simply. He liked to have a life that was not full of the complication of having to be close to someone else, have to constantly think about them and all that nonsense. He worked better alone in the circumstances that he found himself in.

He could be useful in that hunt, but he wasn't about to actually suggest they bring him in for it. That would be a complete betrayal to HYDRA, and he liked to keep all of his options open. He could only imagine all the crap that Rogers was going through, and that was enough to assure him that he wanted as little part in it as he could. He liked to watch ol' Cap squirm after all.

After she had rolled her shoulders, he gestured for her to follow and began to make his way out of the alleyway that they stood in. "I do, but I don't keep it long. SHIELD and HYDRA have vocal recognition technology," he said as a way of explanation. "I keep clear of cameras for the facial recognition tech they have," he added as he walked down the street, changing his usual arrogant swagger to that of a shuffling tired blue-collar worker leading a woman to his home. "It will be safer at my place."

"None taken, you're really not my type." She replied, finishing off her apple and turning to toss it overhand into the nearest dumpster as she fell into step beside him, "Smart." She added, a reply both to not keeping a phone and keeping away from the cameras. She refrained from asking which of them his place would be safer for, though the snipe was right there on the tip of her tongue all the same. She knew she'd be safe enough all things considered, because actually bonded or not he wouldn't want her dead. At least in theory.

If that theory was disproved, she wasn't harmless, helpless, or unarmed, but that was the sort of thing she'd only worry about if she actually had to.

She was actually a little impressed by the easy shift in his gait, there weren't many people who could pull off a change in physicality like that, at least not as easily as he'd done. She kept pace beside him, only just within arm's reach, close enough so as not to come off as a total stranger to anyone who might be paying attention, but not close enough to put herself at risk, either.

He wasn't surprised that he wasn't her type, and he took no offense to that either. It was better that way as there would be no real pressing need to get into bed together and figure things out from there. He wasn't allowed to defend his place in a very obvious way or it would attract attention and all his efforts went to not doing so. He was very, very good at if after years hidden inside of SHIELD.

He took her back to his small one bedroom apartment that he was renting, cash only, and it was clean and well-ordered. He had two couches in the living room, a small television, a radio, but no obvious phone. He move to the kitchen with a knowing ease and began to put away the groceries.

"You want something to drink or something?" He supposed he had to at least be cordial to a guest who was going to have to stick around him more than he would have liked.

It was second nature, even a reflex to check her lines of sight and potential exits, something she did without even really thinking about it anymore. She shook her head at the question, "No, I'm good. But thanks." She replied as she went to sit on the end of the nearest couch as it had the most open space around it should she need to make a dive for freedom, though even despite that she was still at ease.

"You know," She said, tone utterly conversational, "As far as lairs go, this one really isn't that bad. You could definitely do worse." And the tidiness was a point in his favor, as much as she hated to admit to anything of the sort, even to herself. Though she did suspect that mostly it was so that he could pack up and leave in a hurry if he had to, and she didn't blame him for that in the slightest.

He didn't need to see her to know that she was still in the apartment that he had. Even if she decided to make a jump out the window, they had been close enough and associated long enough where he would be good to avoid having contact for a little while and for that he was thankful. He put away his groceries and folded up the paper bag. No point wasting those. They were dead useful for certain things.

He padded out of the kitchen and regarded her sitting on the couch with a clear line to getting out quickly. "I've done much worse, so this place isn't half bad. It will suit me a little longer." He certainly wasn't going to stay here long term, couldn't risk it. He moved to the couch and sat on the opposite side to her. "Your welcome to stay for however long as you want. I don't murder guests in their sleep, just so you know."

"Appreciate it. Can't make that kind of promise myself." She shrugged, then, settling back just a little, though one foot was still braced to lever herself upright again should she have to, "I've still got an hour or two, might as well get as close to a full charge as we can while we can, right?"

Another one of those crooked little smiles, "And I don't figure you would have invited me in if you were just planning on kicking me out again right away." Which he'd as much as said in saying she could stay as long as she liked, "Y'know, if I was the kind of person who believed in that kind of thing, I'd say fate has a really fucked-up sense of humor."

Ah well, he didn't think that she would get too close with him knowing about it, at least not close enough to slit his throat. He wondered if she could or if like him, she was a stuck by the bond as he was. He hoped so and that that knowledge made her uncomfortable because there was nothing more attractive than watching her squirm. Okay, maybe punching her in the face had been pretty attractive too.

"Yeah considering all that's happened, I would say that fate has a really fucked up sense of humor and just likes to torture people on principle," he said as he folded his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. "This wasn't actually supposed to happen to me. I never took a second glance at anyone, and now look at me? Slumping around inviting a woman to stay as long as she likes."

Honestly she wasn't sure if she'd be able to kill him. A swipe to something non-vital as a warning to keep his hands off, probably, but she wasn't even totally sure of that, or if she'd even want to in the first place.

Fucking biology.

She huffed, partly amused and oddly partly commiserating at the statement, "Yeah, and I was supposed to find a nice girl, settle down somewhere with a good HOA, invite the neighbors over for holiday parties and barbeques. Instead I got Riley, and turns out that wasn't even true." If he'd actually been listening, that was the first real confirmation as to why he wasn't her type.

Brock snorted at her reply to set up a scenario of what ifs and dream world that had clearly come crashing down. Neither of them would clearly have what they wanted in this, but it was enough that they had come to some kind of agreement to knowing they needed to at least at times have to be close to each other. It was the only way this was going to work, so she could hold on to her what ifs and long gones all she liked.

"Life is a bitch, and you get used to it or just learn to dull your disappointment," he said with a shrug of his shoulders as he laid his arm across the back of the couch. "At least you aren't dead, so there's your only bonus."

Honestly it had been mostly sarcasm, not that she would have objected to living out the new nuclear family scenario, but she was pretty sure she'd get bored with it before long, because that kind of normal started to grate after a while.

"Disappointment's kind of the way the world works." She shrugged, "Just as long as you can find what makes you happy in between, evens things out a little." A nod, "And alive, yeah, we'll call that a bonus, for now. Pretty sure it should just be the baseline, though."

Brock certainly wasn't adverse to living out the nuclear scenario because there was something morbidly entertaining about that kind of fall out where he imagined himself on a boat fishing for the last days of his life. A man like him really had simple needs. Family wasn't one of them, and he didn't think that it ever would be even after finding his bond. Good thing neither of them wanted to touch each other.

"Disappointment is pretty much life in a nutshell," he agreed with a nod of his head. "You clearly have high standards ahead of you if you think appreciating how living is a baseline," he replied with a smirk. "Some of us are blessed to have made it passed six years old." Not that he was one of them, but he had heard a few stories here and there.

She nodded, "I'm lucky I made it into the double digits. I was kind of a reckless kid." That same wry little smile, "And too damn curious for my own good. Not a good combination." That was, apparently, all he was going to get on the subject, though.

If he asked, she might tell him, but only maybe, mostly it depended on how he asked, and if he actually wanted to know. Mostly she was curious to see what would happen if she didn't volunteer information. Sitting in silence would get weird fast, but she'd weathered weird before and was pretty sure she could handle it in this case.

Yeah well she wasn't the only one lucky to make double-digits, but he prided himself on making his own way in life from a young age. It wasn't like anyone was going to do it for him, and he now preferred it that way. He had been forced into independence early. "Well you seemed to have turned out alright for being reckless," he replied, giving her the once over as if trying to decide if she was actually hiding some impressive scarring under her clothes.

"I think you should give me some examples so I can compare to my own upbringing," he said casually, as if testing the waters on just how close she was going to let him go. It wasn't like he could just torture the information out of her, since that wouldn't nearly be as entertaining as possibly coaxing it.

Nothing too impressive, most of them had faded as she'd grown, and with two seasonal growth spurts about three years apart even the worst of them were more or less invisible now.

She eyed him for a moment in turn, almost debating, and finally just shrugged, rolling up her sleeve to show him the back side of her forearm, there was a scattered scar there, some of it still dimples, most of it just darker flecks like some sort of bizarre freckling, "I was eight, decided that skateboarding down a gravel driveway seemed like a good idea."

And there was that smile again, open and amused and not at all afraid of laughing at herself, "I was one of those kids with a skateboard made out of a couple fence planks and rollerskate wheels, so obviously those locked up after the first few feet, just long enough to get up to speed before I got pitched off, got a matching set all along the thigh, too." She added, patting the leg in question, "Mom just about killed me herself, kept threatening too all the way to the hospital. Pretty sure they picked a pound and a half of gravel out of me once we got there, which is pretty impressive when I was only about 90 pounds, soaking wet."

He leaned closer when she showed off her forearm and while most of it had faded, he could tell that the injury probably would have been nasty given the story that went with it. So, she was one of those kids, huh? He actually couldn't say that he was surprised given she joined the military in an experimental division that gave nothing in the way of body armour and one was flying into active warfare on a part of mechanical wings. Only really reckless people did that.

He still ran a finger appraisingly over the dimples of scarring and hummed softly in response. "That can't be the only impressing really dumb thing that you did as a kid, right?" He gestured since he knew there were more flying stories that she just wasn't telling him right now.

There was no spark at the touch, and she'd only half expected there to be, but it was definitely warm, and she wasn't sure if that was just him or if it was the connection that they were both mostly ignoring.

"Made friends with a raccoon once, when I was about six." She shrugged, "Summer camping trip, just lucky I didn't get bit, and probably a good thing somebody noticed before I actually managed to lure it into the tent, that would have been a disaster. Pretty sure that was the same trip when I almost drowned in a pond that was a lot deeper than it looked."

There were certainly some mishaps during training with the wingpacks, and misadventures after she'd learned them, but they were discussing how she'd managed to make it to double digits, not her teenage recklessness, and certainly not her college-age shenanigans, though there hadn't been as many of those, given that she'd signed up with the EXO program after only a single semester of college, drawn in both by her reckless, curious streak, and the offer to pay for the rest of her college education.

For him the contact was like salving an itch that he hadn't realized existed until it was gone. He didn't like it at all, but he wasn't about to show anything about it either. He knew her by sight and that was all that there was to it, and she seemed to react to the sight of him in the same way. They hadn't anything funny with each other at least to test just how deep the bond went through pain or any other stimulus aside from prolonged separation.

"Now that was just dumb," he replied after the story with the raccoon, but then again... kids were really dumb. They didn't learn their smarts early unless they absolutely had to, and it was starting to shape up as one of those things where it was surprising she might have survived so long. Clearly she wasn't using her head much as a kid. "Let me guess, everything seemed like a good idea at the time and the consequences were never enough to make you realize just how dumb most of that stuff was after it had happened?"

Another grin, "Pretty much. I mean if I'd..." Her brow creased then, huffing a laugh and shaking her head, "I almost said if I'd just gotten bit it would have changed my tune, but I did get bit by things, more than once, and pecked, and scratched, never stopped me for long."

She shook her head again, giving a shrug, "And mom knew that trying to tell me to stop would just make me bring more strays home. It wouldn't have been out of spite, not really. I was just convinced that animals loved me." And she hadn't been entirely wrong, she did have a way with most of them, still did, not enough to go into animal medicine, medicine in general wasn't her calling, but she was good with most animals, wild and domestic.

Well at least he now knew that her recklessness had started young and just kept on coming. It also meant that he could expect her to possibly be willing to take risks for him if he phrased it just right and lured her in that direction. Of course, her love for apparently attracting dangerous animals or performing stupid stunts had hopefully abated by now, though judging by what he knew of her flying around avoiding getting blown up by the big guns of the helicarriers, he wondered about that too.

"Yeah well, maybe that's why the fates decided to pair us off then," he said sarcastically. He was previously a bit of a feral child after all, but he had thankfully grown out of that habit. "So if animals loved you and all that crap, why did you go for military and not... I don't know, veterinary medicine? That seems more like your calling."

She shook her head, "Nah, don't have that kind of patience, or the attention span to study medicine of any kind." That same crooked little smile, "And besides that, biology was never my strongest subject in school. It was the dissections," She explained, "I'm fine with blood, even broken bones, but as soon as the insides become outside, I'm done, that's it, count me out."

Another little head shake, "Besides, I'm better at explaining to people why instead of getting into the nitty-gritty of the actual hardware." That same crooked smile, "Think of it like tech support instead of repair technician."

"So you like to be their friend, but you wouldn't want to save them, huh?" He shrugged his shoulders, since he really had no problem with injury given how much of it he had seen. He'd seen to many men die, holding their guts, gun shot wounds, burns, and it really was amazing what kind of pleading came from a man in that case. Most he was certain wanted to die by that point; there was no life after those kinds of injuries, just a shadow of one.

"Fine then... why the military? Why special operations like the Falcon equipment?" He was curious how someone who apparently spent most of their childhood picking up all manner of strays and injury to boot would bother to go in a place where one's life was never guaranteed.

"Depends on your definition of 'save'." She replied to the first, realizing that it sounded just a little more religious than she meant it to, but she didn't quite care to correct that just yet.

She smiled at the rest though, a small, far more genuine smile than she'd given before, "Military's in my blood. Flying's in my blood. Grandad was a red-tail angel, one of the Tuskegee airmen. Dad flew med-evac helicopters in Vietnam, mom's a civilian pilot, light aircraft, helps with search and rescue up in the mountains when she can."

A shrug, "It sounds dumb saying it out loud, I know it does, it's why I don't say it often, but when the program was offered I knew it was what I was supposed to be doing."

Ah well, since he was getting so much of her family background, he didn't need to guess on where she had been and what she had done. That made things a bit easier in his mind, since she was handing him all the details that a man could want. Of course, the little smile was nicer than it should have been, and he casually flicked his eyes away to survey the room rather that stare at it.

"Sounds like you knew that you'd be in the air," he said with a shrug of his shoulders. At least her path was set and there was no need for waffling. He liked that in a person; they just took a occupation and ran with it rather than debating too much about it. "You ever get those wings fixed? I heard they were pretty torn up before the Triskelion went down."

"How could I not be destined for flight with a name like Ariel?" She shrugged, "Of course, I could also have gone into magic, since I was named after the sprite in Tempest, but either way."

She shook her head at the question about the wings, smile dissolving, "Nope. They're as good as gone." Of course, she knew that one of the other remaining packs had been tracked down and that Tony was working on getting his hands on it, but she also knew that was a long way off, especially with everything else that was going on, "So I'm pretty well grounded for now, unless I decide to go skydiving, or get a pilot's license or something."

"You could have joined the Navy," he pointed out with a bit of a shrug. "You know, the Little Mermaid and all." Because really, who wasn't naming their kid after some Disney princess one way or another. It seemed that she had plenty of avenues for searching out occupations, but she seemed pretty set on the whole flying thing.

"The asset does that," he said with a smirk. He had heard that the asset's mission was to disable any who tampered with the third helicarrier using any force necessary. "I guess you'd have to take time out of your schedule from chasing after a ghost to get a license."

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imadebreakfast - 2014-12-01 15:00 (UTC) - Expand

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