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little-diable · 20 days ago

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Bound in Eternity - Halbrand/Sauron (smut)

This obsession isn't fading, but I ain't sorry, y'all will have to endure this. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Once wed, once forced apart by Adar's betrayal, and now their paths cross again - all while he is fighting side by side with an elf that looks at him as if they are soulbound.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, public, jealousy, choking, possessiveness, some degrading

Pairing: Halbrand/Sauron x fem!reader (2.3k words)

At first it felt as if she was dreaming. A restless dream that would haunt her for centuries to come. A darkening dream that would force her to doubt everything she had clung to ever since their paths had been forced to part. Centuries that have turned into a cloud of confusing smoke, too thick for her to see through it.

But the tip of the sword felt too cold, too sharp to be a mere imagination of her racing mind. This wasn’t a dream, this was all but a dream, reality had caught up with her, drawing her towards the battle where she could feel him close.

Him. The one she had been bound to ever since she could remember. Him. The one who had always held her heart in his hands, careful not to crush it even as darkness had begun to poison every vein, every inch of his frame. Him. The one she had longed to feel close again ever since Adar’s betrayal.

Hope was flickering in her eyes, she had changed her frame just like he had, finding a new body to house her soul for the time being. A frame he seemed to find himself confused by, not reacting to the way her soul tried to reach for his, desperate to let their powers intertwine once again. But something seemed to hold him back, something that left a bitter aftertaste on (y/n)’s tongue while studying the unreadable expression tugging on his new handsome features.

“Who is she to you?” His eyes flickered from hers to Adar’s, the one she didn’t dare to look at, knowing that she’d fight against every sword for the mere chance to kill him. She’d burn Middle Earth to the ground for a chance to pierce her sword through his skin, robbing him of his life just like he had tried to rob the life of her lover.

“I don’t know her.” She couldn’t stop a huff from leaving her, forcing her lover’s eyes back to her. (Y/n) was close to murmuring his name, but the presence of the elf held her back, the golden haired warrior who looked at her lover with something making (y/n)’s insides churn in disgust and jealousy. The elf spoke something to him, but she couldn’t listen, not when she tried to make herself familiar with his new appearance, the slightly unruly look that seemed to perfectly fit him.

His eyes found hers again as he sheathed his sword before reaching for her arm to pull her to her feet. A fire spread through her the second he touched her, something he must have felt too judging by the momentary recognition flushing through his eyes. They kept holding eye contact as the elf reached for Adar, binding his arms to drag him with her. A soft smile managed to break out on (y/n)’s lips, she fought against the need to reach for his bearded cheek, to let her skin meet his again like it had last done on that forsaken morning before he had been ripped from her side.

For a second, a darkening grin widened on his lips, a grin that made her breath hitch in her chest. He tightened his grip on her while moving towards his horse, wordlessly helping her into the saddle before placing himself behind her. His arm found its way around her waist, pushing her back against his armoured chest before dipping his head down to let his breath fan over (y/n)’s neck, “I feared you may have forgotten about me, sweetling, but I should have known that our bond will survive even the furthest distances.”

Goosebumps rose on her skin, perfectly matching the heat spreading through her body. She couldn’t reply, not when the elf looked back at them for a moment before leading them down the forest path, but the way she squeezed his hand seemed to be enough for him for now.

…

“Halbrand, what a strange name to choose.”

Her voice had a teasing touch to it, drawing him closer as they stood near the shed the elf had dragged Adar into seconds ago. His eyes burned holes into her skin, leaving a fiery trail as he cupped her cheek, letting his calloused thumb stroke her skin.

“And what should I call you now, sweetling?” His voice dropped lower with every spoken syllable, undoubtedly feeling the same pull in his chest. She wanted to kiss him, wanted to feel his lips pressed against hers, but something seemed to hold him back, something having to do with that elf (y/n) struggled to look at for longer than a handful of seconds.

“I haven’t chosen a different name yet, Mairon.” The growl leaving him drew a whine out of (y/n), she needed to feel him closer, desperate to taste him again just like she had longed for all those centuries.

“The elf, Galadriel, is a worthy asset in our game, I fear you need to put your trust in me once more.” Confusion pushed through (y/n), forcing her eyebrows to furrow while looking up at him. He let go of her before another word could leave her, forced to look at Galadriel reemerging from the shed.

He left her side to speak to the elf, murmuring words (y/n) couldn’t understand. Anger began to simmer inside of her, anger directed at her lover who hadn’t even kissed her yet after all those years apart, at the elf who seemed to pull him into her trap all too easily, at herself for falling for his game yet again. But no matter how much she wanted to rip herself free, she couldn’t leave his side again - not after only being reunited moments ago.

“Speak, what’s your name?” Galadriel had her eyes directed on (y/n), waiting for her to find her words again as she fought against the lump in her throat. For a second, she let her gaze find his, hoping to find something swimming in his pupils to direct her path, but he didn’t give her anything. Nothing but the grin she had once found herself obsessing over.

“(Y/n),” it was a simple reply, a reply that left him tensing while the elf only nodded her head. It had been centuries since he had last heard her name being spoken out loud - only he had allowed himself to call it out loud when lust overcame him, the simple pleasure mankind seemed to ache for as if it was the air they needed to breathe. But his longings for her had always been stronger than his arrogance, allowing him to let go of any darkening thoughts while fucking his hand to the thought of her.

“Do you know how to wield a sword?” Galadriel’s eyes didn’t leave hers once, a gaze filled with uncertainties and confusions. (Y/n) only nodded her head as she could watch a smirk widen on her lover's lips. Perhaps her return had been just what he needed, another asset in fooling the elf who looked at him as if he had placed every single star on the night sky himself.

“Good, you’ll come with us.” Wordlessly the elf turned away from them, not picking up on the sight of Halbrand and (y/n) grinning at one another with darkness swimming in their pupils. A darkness that forced lust through their veins, a longing both seemed to share as he positioned himself behind her on the saddle once more.

For a second, time seemed to stand still as he whispered to her in the language others feared, the black speech both had shared all those centuries ago. His longing for her was clear, as was hers while she pressed herself back against his chest, unable to bite down a soft whimper as his words kept teasing her. Her whimper turned into a gasp as he suddenly led the horse into a different direction, away from Galadriel who seemed to be oblivious to what was happening.

Trees blurred past them, putting more and more distance between them and the elf. And then the horse came to a sudden halt, almost throwing her off the saddle had it not been for the strong arm he’d wrapped around her waist. Wordlessly he helped her back down, feet meeting the ground before she found herself pressed against the nearest tree.

And then their lips met, finally, after all those years apart. He still tasted the same, of loving and a home others would curse but she had always been aching for. The kiss wasn’t soft nor was it sweet, their teeth clashed, their tongues got tangled while his impatient hands toyed with the lacing of her trousers. Heavy pants left them both, urged on by their longings and the need to unite their bodies once more.

“Tell me, did you let another touch you?” Anger simmered inside of her, a sensation so strong, it allowed her to switch places with him, pushing her lover against the tree while her hands worked on his armour to free his aching cock. He stared down at her, hairs falling into his forehead, eyes growing darker with lust.

“Do you think so little of me, Mairon? I’ve endured centuries without a single touch while all I could long for was your closeness.” A satisfied hum left her lover, eyes momentarily fluttering close as he felt her hands wrapped around him, touching him just like he had touched himself days ago to the thought of her. He felt heavy in her hand, leaving her walls clenching around nothing at the thought of him “But what about you? Did your game ask you to bed the elf? She looks at you as if you’re soulbound.”

A raspy chuckle left him, a sound that only agitated her further. His cold hand found (y/n)’s warm cheek, forcing her to keep looking at him even as he pushed her hand away. Wordlessly he turned them around again, with his hand finding its rest on her throat he kept her held in place, “Perhaps I have, perhaps I’ve fucked her to blindside her, you always knew of the sacrifices we had to make.”

She knew that he was lying, set on pushing her further into her anger to heighten her senses, and yet she couldn’t stop the curses rolling off her tongue, words in the black speech he cut off with his hand adding more pressure to her throat. Her eyes grew wider as she felt his cock near her entrance, coating himself in her slick before he finally pushed into her.

The second he pushed into her she could have sworn she felt the ground shaking, an eruption so strong it buzzed through her body. But the smirk lingering on her lover’s lips was enough to keep her focused on him.

He fucked (y/n) against the tree, hard, fast, set on leaving bruises to make up for all those lost centuries. Barely any air managed to flood through her lungs, just enough to leave her trembling against him while choking on his name, “I’ve almost forgotten how being buried inside of you feels like, no matter which form we take on, we’re always made to fit, sweetling.”

The words were unusually soft, leaving her brows to furrow while she felt the air around them growing heavier. Something was happening in the Southlands, but she didn’t dare give in to any distraction while her lover finally fucked her again, “You’re taking me so well, fuck, I should have known that all those years wouldn’t change your hunger for me, you’ll always be a cock hungry whore for me.”

“Fuck you,” she spat the words against his lips, a mere whisper and yet just enough to make him raise his brows in mock surprise. His thrusts grew rougher, drawing whines out of her as she felt her orgasm creeping closer and closer. He dipped his head down to kiss her throat, letting his beard scratch her skin while his hand let go of her, only to find her pulsing bundle.

“Beg for it.” It was a simple, rasped command, enough to make her see stars while she could taste her release on the tip of her tongue. For a moment, his thrusts grew slower, dragging out the moment as she searched for her voice. “Don’t tell me I’ve already fucked you dumb, you poor thing. Let me hear your voice.”

“Please, Mairon, let me cum.” A sob left (y/n), blurry gaze focused on his features. Darkness seeped out of his every pore, shadows wrapping themselves around the two, all while another hum left him. “I need it, oh fuck, please.”

“Cum with me.” Both fell over the edge at the same time, drawing moans from them while they lost themselves in the intense sensation. It had never felt this strong, this relieving, this perfect. A deadly mixture reminding them both of the power they could wield when their souls were finally connected again.

His forehead fell against hers, lips connected once more before he pulled away. But her hand darted out to cling to his jaw, searching his eyes while finding her trembling voice, “Tell me you’re still mine, tell me she’s nothing but a pawn in your game.”

A raspy chuckle left her lover, he shook his head while intently studying her, “She’s a worthy asset, a pawn to bring us closer to what we’ve been working towards. But she’ll never be you, nobody ever will, sweetling, and it’d do you good to finally remember that.”

(Y/n) pressed another kiss to his lips before both directed their gazes towards the darkening sky, tasting the smoke and ash in the air - something seemingly pushing excitement through his veins, “So it begins.”

#Halbrand smut #Sauron smut #Halbrand x reader #Sauron x reader #rings of power #rings of power smut #sauron imagine #halbrand imagine

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yuri-is-online · 8 months ago

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Hi Yuri! Have you ever considered the idea of there being an alternate version of the twst boys in Yuu’s world? Since we have no clue if it’s just another planet or an entirely separate universe, it’s theoretically possible. Poor Yuu would think they are going crazy seeing a familiar face or hearing a familiar voice in another world. Perhaps it is even painful to the point Yuu tries to avoid interacting with the boy in question. - 🦐

(Also, I am well aware of how often I’ve been sharing these thoughts. If they’re annoying you or you don’t feel up to it, I don’t want you to feel pressured to respond or anything. I’m just spitballing and posting before I forget. 👉👈)

OH BOY DO I HAVE SOME THOUGHTS ON THIS!!!!! (first and foremost being that you are very much not annoying <3)

An alt version of a twst boy in Yuu's world is just so yummy. There's so much angst potential depending on what the relationship is/was. Did their boy die in some horrible accident? Is he waiting for them, anxious and terrified about where Yuu went? Does this imply that twst also has a version of Yuu somewhere out there in the world? Questions questions. I did sort of write about this idea in the tags of this yan version of the soulbound au, wherein a cursed Yuu driven insane by their curse kills their soulmate before being isekaid to Twisted Wonderland and finding a different version of him, horrified with the realization that they could kill him again... but I want to cook up some dynamics for what the dorm leaders/overblot boys could be up to in Yuu's world first sooo...

I had a hard time thinking about Riddle until I remembered he's a horse girl and cast Yuu in the role of bad boy ranch hand whose dad's got a job at the barn so they're forced to help take care of the horses and warn all the would be YA protags about the "special horse" who doesn't take orders from just anyone. Not that Riddle is the protagonist... he's more the well established rich petty bitch who looks down on the new girls and especially on you because you're never taking care of his horse in accordance with all his stupid rules. And in stereotypical horse movie fashion Riddle has a massive not so secret crush on bad boy ranch hand Yuu who just doesn't get why he keeps trying to talk to them.

There isn't much royalty left in the world, but imagine Leona as the son of some rich business magnate whose older brother got the company and left him with "nothing." Maybe Yuu works at a liquor store part time and Leona comes in to pick stuff up every once in a while. You wouldn't call him a friend, but you guys shoot the shit enough that you have a general feel for each other to the point he joins you on your breaks to keep up the talk and play chess.

I love the idea of student president council Azul. He's made for that trope. Born for it, he'd be such a terror with Jade as his VP and Floyd as well. Floyd. I can't see him really being a part of the student council but I had this idea the other day based off this instagram post I saw about this mom who sews right? Her daughter was running for class president and she made these bracelets with little shrimp on them and attached them to cards that said "Keep it shrimple! Vote for (kid's name)!" And I was struck with this vision of Yuu doing that so like. Yuu running against Azul with that campaign slogan and he's tearing his hair out over it being so popular because people like memes (the original idea had Floyd running as Yuu's vp but they both dropped out at the last minute because neither him or Yuu wanted to do the actual work lol.) I also like student council president Azul and delinquent Yuu... but that's because of Tsuredure Children ha

Kalim and Jamil are hard... but I think the same set up of rich businessman's kid and his bodyguard in training still fits. How Yuu meets them is beyond me, but if you were friends with either of them could you imagine how painful seeing the same tragedy play out in this new world would be? Jamil doomed to always be a servant and Kalim doomed to be betrayed by his best friend... that would be so painful for someone who cared deeply about either of them I could see it motivating Yuu to try and resolve things for twst Jamil and Kalim that much harder.

Ok so hear me out... Vil still wants to be an actor in your world but he doesn't have the connections to his dad and is working as a pharm tech with Yuu at your local drugstore while going to school and hunting for gigs. He mentions being interested in cosmetics and magical pharmacology in game... and he also mentions knowing nothing about his mom so like. Your world Vil ended up with his mom instead of his dad and you get to see him on the cusp of his big break as one of his number one supporters from the very start, only to get isekaid to a world where you get to see what things could have looked like. It's strange how similar and yet not both versions of Vil are...

Idia is the guy who comes in to buy snacks at your convenience store during the night shift who you start talking to when you notice him buying a game time card for something you also play. You're stupid awkward around each other at first, but it's nice to finally have someone to talk about your niche interest with once you've passed each other's sniff tests. You don't actually know him know him though... so getting sent to another world where there's another version of him makes you worried the more you learn about his backstory that maybe you should have been there for your Idia more. Is he doing ok back home? Did he think of you as a friend? You hope he isn't blaming himself for any of this...

Malleus is an old money trust fund baby whose family was absolutely royalty at some point and is still overly attached to it. He likes old buildings, cemeteries, long walks in the fog, you know all those good goth things. He's tall and socially awkward and so grateful for you, his first and best friend who he met one moonlight night he swore was a dream in his favorite abandoned building who spoke at length with him about all sorts of things he liked. So you know. More or less the same. Just without the world ending powers... I think this is another one that would be quite sad. Which version of Malleus needs Yuu more? Which one is the real one? I'd hate the idea of him being destined to always be lonely and lose the ones he loves.

As for Yuu avoiding them... I could see that. It would feel weird seeing someone you love so much only for it not to be them at all. I know that the Lovebrush Chronicles kiiiiind of deals with this??? I wish I had the patience to play through it has an appealing glasses wearing ro but it's a mobile otome :/ but still. It's a concept I promise I am totally normal about.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #<3 asks #shrimp annon #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim al asim x reader #jamil viper x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus x reader

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kaihuntrr · 1 year ago

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A bunch of Scott designs I did for warmups <3 using my personal head canons for each one! Explanations for their looks and ‘names’ down below!

Life Series: Scott!

I love all of them so much,, I wanted to keep their outfits and general vibes simple, they’re all pretty but also some practicality in their wardrobes as they are in some type of survival game ehe.

3rd Life: Poppy

Self explanatory name, this version of Scott is the sweetest and the most disconnected from the survival games. He only wanted to live with his husband in their little paradise in forms of flower valleys and endless wheat fields, completely isolated from the war. His outfit is of a gardener, overalls and a sunhat with his and Jimmy’s favorite flower; poppies. He grew out his hair and ties it, not wanting it to be in the way of his work. He is overly protective of his husband, wanting to keep him safe and away from danger for as much as he possibly can. A widow’s rage is something else.

I imagine 3rd Life designs to be more humanoid, so Scott here is an elf! This soul of his moved on to Empires, where he spends the rest of his days with his husband in sweet bliss.

Last Life: Star

Earned the name after being victorious in the game of betrayal. A guiding star to others, he keeps the titular mark on his forehead for the remainder of his time in the Life Series due to being a winner, a reminder of him losing his final life to a lightning bolt. He is the most cunning, using his wits and trust to be a strong ally. He lived in the center of all the chaos with his partner, his best friend Pearl, using little moths to communicate to each other. With sheltered forests and a cottage as their ‘home’, he has deer-like features and antlers to boot. Perhaps this was an attempt to recreate a copy of Poppy, as he has some memories of ‘his’ previous life. He dresses in a neat dress shirt and vest, matching with his best friend and fitting the aesthetic of their pretty house in the woods. Just don’t touch the wall, please.

I wanted to use yellows for this design, as he starts off with two lives! Plus, the contrast looks so good <3 this soul is the host of future life seasons, having full clarity of this life when he goes into future events. Once a series is over, all precious memories will wash over him and the star will hover over his head. This is his ‘real’ form, his ‘winning’ soul.

Double Life: Venus

Named after the brightest ‘star’ next to the moon, he feels isolated. He felt something familiar as he was brought into this life, but he never expected to be connected to Pearl. He shouldn’t blame her, but he doesn’t deal well with being alone. Somehow, he still has a brief memory of Poppy’s as he feels.. something when Jimmy’s soulbound isn’t with him. He loves being with Cleo, his chosen soulmate, and being Pearl’s soulbound meant he could feel her frustration and loneliness. Should he have been there for her? Likely. He couldn’t bare seeing her face again. He couldn’t bare losing her again. Not again. Maybe it was better this way, they’re both hurting. He hopes this is better.

I used green as he was green in his iconic and heartbreaking moment of splitting off with Pearl and Martyn to join up with Cleo, and also I can remember him being mostly green until Pearl ups and ruins that- he’s a ram, his horns shifting to ram horns to solidify his stubborn nature to reconnect, and a general ranch aesthetic given he and Cleo made a whole soulmate ranch thing. The hair over his eyes are to hide his teary eyes, still missing and hurting over his soulmate.

Limited Life: Coral

A fitting name for the person who established the Coral Isles. The cottage was in the middle of it all, so he wanted his life to be away from all the drama, just by the side of the map near the ocean to relax. Unfortunately, things just won’t stop coming for him. Be it being the boogeyman first, allying with someone who you swore was supposed to kill you, and more memories of your past life you don’t understand coming back to haunt you, it’s a little too much. He can’t help but be flirty with Martyn though, the man definitely bites back. He finds his partner’s overprotective-ness rather adorable, and he’d do anything for him back, even give him time.

Fish!! Drastically different than my AU design, which is good- used his red skin as he did wonderfully as a red name and whenever I think of Limited Life I’d always think of Red Scott, which I adore <3 he does have long hair, can’t not have his long hair for him!

Until series five comes out, these are my thoughts and ideas for Life Series Scott! I’d love to write out possible interaction ideas but I’m afraid this post might be too long LMAO- a good break from Sea Prince content, but I absolutely adore the life series and the pseudo-story I have for this guy in particular. Who knows, you might see fullbodies of them in the future? :D no promises!

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sulatni-flerida11 · 2 days ago

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flames

inspired by wild life session 5 + some headcanons of the fandom :]

The moment Jimmy hears thunder strike – not from the wild card of the session, but from a fallen player – the joy that fills him quickly turns into something… burning. It doesn’t hurt, (in fact, it’s very pleasant), but he’s surprised about the sudden change. His teammates can’t offer him any advice about it, and he doesn’t dare to ask Grian at the moment as he’s still grieving.

He comes to the next person “best at handling problems” he knows, who also happens to be the one “best at handling fire.”

The sudden concentration of heat outside his not-so-flammable-anymore base made Tango raise a brow. The session is over, and though he can think of reasons to be on the receiving end of arson from this session, he doesn’t know why anyone would bother.

“Tango?” a familiar voice calls out. “Are you here, or?...”

He calls back as he fixes his belongings, “Hey Jimmy.” He hopes his smile is audible. His soft spot for the avian never faded away since they were soulbound, and they’re both sure whatever they’re feeling for each other has nothing to do with that mechanic.

“Could I… Mind giving me advice?”

“Give me a sec, hold on –” Tango finally secured his goodies from the Trivia Bot.

He walks out to greet Jimmy, (though he is also a bit confused as to why the other didn’t just walk in). “What do you need, songbird -”

He stops in his tracks.

Jimmy’s feathers are burning.

“What –” Tango approaches quickly, waving his hands around as an attempt to pat the flames down.

Jimmy laughs. “Tango, that’s unnecessary -”

“It’s unnecessary?” Tango feels himself heat up in anger directed at whoever caused this. “Jimmy, who am I killing next session -”

“You literally can’t do that. You’re green. I’m the one that needs the kill.”

“Then who am I helping you kill next session -”

“Tango!” Jimmy moves to grab Tango’s arms, and the latter moves away quickly.

“I’m running hot right now, Jim. You don’t want to touch me -”

“The flames don’t hurt me anymore.”

That stops Tango. “What?”

Jimmy flaps his wings, showing how the fire on the tips of the feathers continues to burn brightly. Even the few feathers on his face have sparks, and Jimmy isn’t flinching a single bit. Little puffs of smoke come out of it, similar to Tango’s flame of hair (if you can even call that hair).

Moving again, Jimmy finally grabs Tango, who snaps out of his shock the moment physical contact is made. His immediate reaction was to pull away, but Jimmy keeps his grip firm but gentle.

“I… I don’t think I’m quite a canary anymore.”

Slowly, his golden feathers envelope both of them. Tango watches carefully, instincts telling him to run, run, you’ll hurt him, but no signs of pain reveal themselves on Jimmy’s face.

“You’re like… a phoenix now,” Tango whispers in awe. The golden feathers look molten and bright with the fire, warmth seeping into his bones despite already being warmer than usual.

“Seems like it,” Jimmy laughs once more, and void Tango wishes to capture the vision in front of him for life. “I came here to ask how you handle your fire, since you were born with it and all, but…”

He motions between them, the gap closer than ever before without fire resistance potions now they don’t have to be cautious about Tango’s heat.

“... this is nice,” Jimmy finishes with a smile.

“Aww,” Tango groans fondly, “I don’t want to let go of you now. Mind me stealing you from your team?”

Jimmy slaps him lightly on the chest, “Don’t you dare! Unless you want Scar to come here and destroy your base again.”

“Fair.”

The two laugh, enjoying each other’s company and warmth.

#jimmy solidarity #tangotek #team rancher #trafficblr #trafficshipping #hermitshipping #wild life #wild life spoilers #<- jic #sulat ni flerida #wow the brainrot was strong for this too #i'm holding phoenix!jimmy close #but we all know #tango's gonna hold him closer #oh ranchers #love the ranchers #ree.sulat

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goodlucktai · 9 months ago

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gently in the cold dark earth

scum villain's self saving system word count: 2k canon divergent / no system au; sy transmigrates into an empty npc role; gray lotus binghe loves his shixiong more than life and he's ready to make it everyone's problem

title borrowed from work song by hozier

read on ao3

The first thing Luo Binghe does when he escapes the Abyss is return to Cang Qiong Mountain.

With Xin Mo secured to his back, the way could be instant if he so chose—the journey of a thousand miles reduced to a single step—but he unsheathes the elegant jian at his hip instead.

Yong Liang sings sweetly for him, the snow white blade still shining and untainted even after years of helping Luo Binghe carve his way through hell. It has never once failed him, soulbound to the one person still on this earth who has never failed him.

“Take it,” his shixiong insisted, low and urgent. The Abyss was behind them, an even deadlier threat was ahead, and Without A Cure clogging his meridians made Luo Binghe the best choice to wield the only unshattered spirit sword they had between them. “Binghe, take it.”

He pressed until Luo Binghe’s grip curled tight around the hilt, not hesitating to put his soul in Luo Binghe’s hands even with the rosy glow of an unsealed demon mark shining on his face.

Luo Binghe flies at a pace best described as dangerously reckless, hardly smelling the fragrant spring air or feeling the sun on his face. His robes are a disgrace, his hair a tangled, matted mess, and it occurs to him that he could stop somewhere and clean himself up, make himself presentable, but it’s a brief, fleeting thought.

Shen Yuan would be furious to find out that Luo Binghe wasted even a single second returning to his side.

——

He passes through the ancient wards effortlessly, feeling them fall away from him like water. It’s a simple thing to tamp down on his demonic qi, to disguise the parts of him that those so-called righteous cultivators would scorn. He ghosts through the familiar grounds as eagerly as a starving animal bolting down a fresh game trail, but one by one, all of their familiar haunts come up empty, without even a lingering trace of Shen Yuan’s spiritual energy left behind.

The head disciple’s room is dusted and undisturbed, as if its occupant might walk through the door at any moment, but the lack of clutter and the empty book shelf makes it very clear to Luo Binghe what the truth must be.

If Shen Yuan returned to the peak after the Conference, he didn’t stay.

All at once, images crowd the front of his mind—his shixiong grieving, pulling away, turning his back on those responsible for his heartache.

Yue Qingyuan, always only a step behind wherever his precious Xiu Ya sword went, promised that no one wanted to hurt them. They only wanted to help.

He looked so solemn and righteous that Shen Yuan reluctantly allowed himself to be convinced. Luo Binghe, who had gone to the man for help after a bloody whipping when he was a child, only to be given a walnut cake and turned away at the door, knew better.

He wasn’t surprised when Shen Yuan was wrenched away from him, and shizun sent him staggering off the cliff with a spiritual dagger buried to the hilt in his chest, all of it happening within a matter of seconds—but it still hurt.

Shen Yuan’s scream followed him all the way down.

I’m alive, Luo Binghe thinks, with no one there to tell it to. I came back to you. Let me come back to you.

——

Including time spent in the abyss, it’s three years before they meet again.

Luo Binghe’s revenge is his second priority at best, but he is nothing if not efficient and knows how to kill two birds with the same stone. Huan Hua affords him ample resources and opportunities to scour the world for his missing shixiong while playing the role of earnest and diligent new disciple. He snatches up each mission that comes along as though eager to prove his worth to the sect that so graciously took him in, but he takes every excuse to wander, to search, to make conversation with vendors and innkeepers and passing strangers.

Have you seen my heart? It lives outside of me in the form of a beautiful young man and tends to wander. Very contrary, likes to fuss over people, could argue the stripes off a lushu just for fun. You’d know it if you met it. You’d never forget.

The days blur together, meaningless and gray, but he doesn’t stop looking. Shen Yuan still exists somewhere in this world, because otherwise Luo Binghe wouldn’t. It’s the only thing that makes sense. The alternative doesn’t bear thinking about.

And then, finally—an afternoon in Jinlan City, when Luo Binghe arrives in a throng of incompetent gold-clad Huan Hua disciples, to investigate a plague of all things—

He’s there.

In dark, neutral colors and plain clothes, a traveling cloak with its hood resting down around his shoulders, as if his beauty could possibly be lessened by cheap, shapeless fabrics rather than effortlessly enhanced. His hair falls from its half-tail in glorious waves—he never did have the patience for anything elaborate, only wearing braids when one of his sticky shidimei cajoled and convinced him. Traveling alone, who could he possibly have to roll his eyes at and complain about and sit patiently still for?

A pale green ribbon is all that decorates his hair. Luo Binghe recognizes it instantly.

“You should spend your allowance on yourself, Binghe,” Shen Yuan scolded him, not for the first time and certainly not for the last.

“But I did,” Luo Binghe protested, widening his eyes and clasping his hands earnestly, the way he knew worked best. “I wanted it! And now that I have it, I want to give it to you.”

Shen Yuan was too clever by half to be truly fooled by the innocent act, but he always folded like paper anyway. He spoiled all of his shidimei but Luo Binghe most of all. Anyone on Qing Jing Peak would be hard-pressed to think of a single example of Shen Yuan telling Luo Binghe ‘no.’

Sure enough, after a second spent visibly wrestling with himself, he blurted, “Oh, fine! Hand it over.”

He wore it every day since. He’s wearing it now. The wind catches the ends of it, sending it streaming behind him like the tails of a paradise flycatcher. Lovely.

For a brief moment, Luo Binghe is frozen where he stands, finally faced with the very thing that he’s been missing for years, that he’s been living a miserable half-life without.

And then he remembers himself and lurches forward. His voice is a tangle in his throat but he manages to choke out, “Shixiong!”

A strike of lightning couldn’t have jolted Shen Yuan into more perfect stillness. He stops mid-step, every inch of him as good as carved from precious jade. He doesn’t turn his head, and the sliver of his face visible from where Luo Binghe stands is very pale.

Luo Binghe wonders suddenly if this has happened to him before—if Shen Yuan has heard a voice on the road or in the market that was almost familiar, that was almost the one he was hoping for, only to be disappointed when he turned to follow it and found a stranger.

Luo Binghe shortens the distance between them with a few anxious steps and tries again.

“Shixiong.”

The older boy whirls around abruptly, as if to get it over with. He’s bracing himself, but Luo Binghe barely has a second to absorb Shen Yuan’s painful-looking anticipation before it bleeds out of his face in favor of something else entirely.

He looks like the earth has fallen out from beneath his feet, like he hardly dares to believe his eyes. Zheng Yang gleams golden at Shen Yuan’s hip, reforged and whole again.

“Binghe?”

“It’s me,” Luo Binghe says softly.

There’s a tableau he’s afraid to break, as if they’re in a delicate dreamscape and a move too sudden or loud might dissolve it. He wants to say I’ve missed you the way lungs miss air, immediately and needfully, I haven’t breathed at all since we’ve been apart. He wants to say you’re my light in the dark, I can only stand in front of you now because I love you too much to ever truly leave you.

Instead, he tells his dearest friend, “This one made you wait. But your Binghe is here.”

Shen Yuan sprints the rest of the way to meet him, almost before he’s even finished talking, and they collide in a solid embrace that knocks the air from them both.

His arms wind around Luo Binghe’s waist like steel bands, fingers digging into the back of his robes, precious face pressed into the crook of his neck and shoulder. Luo Binghe doesn’t hesitate to gather him up close, holding him as tightly and securely as he knows how, burying his nose in his shixiong’s hair and breathing in the familiar, beloved smell of him.

Shen Yuan is a few inches shorter than he remembers. All the better to tuck him beneath Luo Binghe’s chin, to cover and surround him so completely that not even the heavens above can get a decent eyeful.

He wants to grab and bite and pin Shen Yuan beneath him and never let go. His jaw aches with wanting it.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Luo Binghe says, eyes wet. “I went home first.” Unsaid goes the obvious but you weren’t there.

“How could I stay?” Shen Yuan bites out, managing to sound all at once strangled and bewildered and—charmingly—offended. He shakes his head without lifting it, an aggressive nuzzle against Binghe’s shoulder. “After what they did to you, I’d rather die than represent their stupid sect another minute.”

“Step away from it, Shen Yuan,” shizun said coldly. “I’ll put that beast back where it belongs.”

“No,” shixiong said in a voice that was smaller than usual, one that shook. He was frightened, clearly overwhelmed, but he didn’t budge from where he was plastered in front of Luo Binghe like a breathing shield.

“Now.”

“No, shizun.”

“Shizhi,” Yue Qingyuan said gently, offering his hand. “Come here. It will be alright.”

Shen Yuan said, “No. You can’t hurt Binghe. He’s not bad just because of who his parents are. He’s as good as he was yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that. He’s hardworking and loyal and a sweetheart to anybody who gives him half a chance. He’s so good.”

Liu Qingge was behind the sect leader, sword drawn. Shen Qingqiu was quickly losing what little patience he had, face twisted into a sneer, dark eyes stabbing hatefully at Luo Binghe from over his head disciple’s shoulder. There were more figures rapidly drawing closer, the other peak lords following the flare of Yue Qingyuan’s qi. The standoff was becoming more and more untenable, and Shen Yuan was too smart not to see that, shrinking back against Luo Binghe as much as he could without crowding him closer to the edge.

“You can’t hurt him,” he said again, the closest Luo Binghe had ever heard him come to tears, “he’s my shidi.”

Luo Binghe is unsurprised by his shixiong’s loyalty, because it’s already been proven to him over and over. It’s unremarkable at this point, which is an absolutely remarkable thing in itself. It makes him feel warm with gratitude and affection and ownership.

Shen Yuan is clever and quick on his feet and always three steps ahead, more knowledgeable about flora and fauna than anyone else Binghe has ever known combined, and probably a force to be reckoned with as a rogue cultivator, where the only rules of conduct he has to adhere to are his own.

But Luo Binghe hates to think of him on the road alone, without the little martial siblings who follow him like ducklings, without his Binghe there to make sure he remembers to eat all his meals and comb out his hair before bed. He’s a creature of comfort, made for airy rooms with too many cushions and an abundance of sweets and books to read.

Luo Binghe has fantasized more than once about building a home for Shen Yuan to lounge prettily in. It was, in fact, his favorite flavor of daydream since he was about thirteen.

If Shen Yuan wants to rogue cultivate, then that’s what they’ll do. But Luo Binghe thinks, if he constructs a palace that’s as comfortable as it is grand, and fills it with trashy romance novels and obscure beasts and his own hand-made meals, he can convince his friend to live in it with him.

Shen Yuan needs to be taken care of. Luo Binghe needs to be the one taking care of him. They’re together now and they’ll never be apart again and those needs can both be met.

That possessive, proprietary feeling coils dark and deep inside him, undulating lazily like a serpent who’s fed enough for days, reminding him over and over what he already knows:

Mine.

#scum villian self saving system #svsss #bingyuan #bingqiu #luo binghe #shen yuan #my writing #svsss fic #sy transmigrates into a blank role in a world where his favorite character exists #and he's supposed to - what ? NOT fulfill his personal fantasy of being lbh's best friend ?? ok ��#naturally binghe has been obsessed since the moment this pretty boy first smiled at him #bingbing i love you you deserve a good shixiong / future wife and i'm here to deliver #ALSO sy's sword name is (yǒng) meaning perpetual ; eternal ; forever #and 亮 (liàng) meaning bright ; clear ; to show ; to shine #in my mind's eye zheng yang is golden so yong liang's silvery white is the perfect compliment #YOU ARE NOT IMMUNE TO THE SUN & MOON SHIP DYNAMIC 🫵#heaven and hell were words to me

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venusdandy · 3 months ago

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Soulbound Desire - Ch. 1

[Lucifer Morningstar/Reader]

A story where you get to choose your path with a poll at the end of each chapter! [Since this is the first chapter I made the decisions more simple, but they will get more complicated throughout the story!]

Story Summary: No matter how often Heaven tried to make you forget, your soul couldn't leave behind your human life. You remembered. Heaven couldn't manipulate you like the other human souls, so they cast you to Hell as a fallen angel. But funnily enough, you find a home in Hell amongst the strangest beings. And dare you say, you're the happiest you've ever been in any realm.

Story Warnings: Takes place pre-canon. The reader is gender-neutral and uses they/them pronouns, with no use for y/n. Depictions of child abuse. Depictions of depression and mental illness. Reader killed themself; that's how they died. Canon typical violence/some depictions of gore. Slow burn. Angst with a happy ending.

Part One (Here)

The drumming of your own heart in your ears is unbearably loud. And your thoughts are swarming like startled bees in your head. And yet, your face remains serene with that mask of a smile. Every human soul in heaven seems to always be smiling, don't they?

What triggered you? You were just fine a moment ago. You just left your home to go for a. . . a walk? A store? You can't remember what you were doing, but you're sure you were okay. . .

You never had so many questions before. You never questioned anything while in Heaven. You never felt the need to. How long have you been staying here, anyway? How many years have passed? 3? 5? You're desperately trying to recall, but it feels like there's a barrier stopping you.

You've never questioned time while in Heaven. Why is that? The more you think about it, the more you recognize that you can't recall anything. How long have you been dead?. . . Dead. You died a few years ago, that's right. You're a human soul who died and went to heaven as an angel. Why can't you remember it, though?

You don't recall having these thoughts before or these unnerved emotions. They're so familiar to you, though. You felt these same emotions when you were alive, didn't you? This deep sadness that feels rooted in your brain has always been with you.

Vague clouded memories are coming to the surface. From when you were alive and on Earth. A miserable life you had, which is why you ended it yourself in your mid-twenties. Your fragile soul couldn't handle it anymore. It's much like how you're having difficulty handling it right now.

This sadness is so familiar it's almost comforting.

Why did you forget you were once alive? And why are you suddenly remembering? What kept you from remembering?

"Oh, you poor thing!" a soft feminine voice coos, "It's happening again, isn't it?"

Your eyes shakingly shift upward to look at the tall angel before you—an actual Celestial being who was created in Heaven years before your existence. You don't recognize her, but something deep within says you should.

The angel has a too-sweet smile, yet you feel something akin to disgust looking at it. She's staring at you like you're a newborn puppy who keeps hurting itself. A pitiful look in her eyes as she stares at you makes you visibly frown.

A subtle gasp leaves her lips as she frowns in surprise. "Oh my, you've stopped smiling! We can't have that!"- The angel smiles brightly again with pity in her eyes, "As your guardian angel, I shall do my duty to make you happy again! No more pesky memories of your former life to bring you down!"

Without time for you to process what she had just told you, her lips glow a golden light. The angel delicately kisses the top of your head, causing your whole body to shiver as if she dumped ice-cold water on you. Her lips touching your skin is making you very uncomfortable. You don't like it. You don't like her.

'No more pesky memories of your former life to bring you down!' The angel had said so casually. Did she . . .brainwash you? Is she doing that to you now? You don't want to forget! You're trying to remember! You know something is wrong and desperately want to figure it out.

The angel's lips leave your head with a loud kissing sound effect. "That should do it!" She chipperly declares.

She's still smiling so brightly at you while you remain frowning. Seeing that you are still the same, her eyes narrow so slightly that you barely notice, but you do, setting off danger alarms in your head. She said she's a guardian angel, which should make you feel safe around her, but there's something darker lurking in her eyes right now. She's not safe.

With your survival instincts based on years of experience from your childhood, you force a broad smile to match her own. You consciously crinkle your eyes and raise your brows to mimic a giddy expression even though you feel like throwing up. You're focusing on your body language and facial expression to sell the act that whatever this angel was trying to do to you worked. You feel she's done this to you before, so you follow that instinct and pretend.

The angel seemed to relax again, and that darker look in her eyes seemingly vanished. "Whoo! I thought it didn't work for a sec; that would've been awful!"

You tilt your head slightly and keep your fake smile steady. "Awful?" you force a relaxed yet cheerful tone, "Nothing is awful in Heaven!"

The angel beams at that, making you feel relief that your acting is fooling her. "You're so right!" she pats your head, and you barely catch yourself from recoiling at her touch.

She lets out a sigh of relief. "I don't know what's so different about your soul, but you sure know how to work a guardian angel to the bone!" She giggles.

Her laugh sounds so hollow. This angel seems like a hollow shell pretending to have human emotions. She's unnerving you greatly, and you want to leave her.

Are all Heaven-born angels like this?

You curve your brows to appear empathetic. "Oh, I didn't mean to, I'm so sorry!"

She claps her hands, seemingly excited that you're 'back to normal.' She squeals, saying, "Oh, I'm not upset! I'm quite delighted!"

You mimic her happy clap. "That's wonderful!" you lie to her cheerfully.

With a proud smile from her seemingly successful attempt to brainwash you or whatever she was trying to do, she then gives a firm nod. "I'll have to report this to Adam and Sera again!" The angel tells you, "But not to worry, since you're happy and smiling again, you won't fall!"

Fall. . .?

A bitter taste forms in your throat. What does she mean by you won't fall now that you're happy again? Internally, you're panicking, but put all your energy into keeping up the giddy facade externally.

Suddenly, you're too self-aware of the heavy white feathered wings on your back and the shimmering halo hovering above your head. You're an angel. A human soul that was welcomed into Heaven, which is a rarity these days. You're an angel. Fall. You'd become a fallen angel if you weren't constantly happy, is what you think she is implying. Is it instant? In that case, why haven't you fallen yet if you're only pretending to be happy?

No, that can't be right. . .

The angel mentioned two names: Sera and Adam. Are they the ones in charge? Other than God, you suppose. You quickly go over each of the guardian angel's words. She said she's reporting this incident again, confirming your suspicion that this has happened to you many times. Sera and Adam, whoever they are, will make you a fallen angel if they find out you remember your human life. Your painful human life. The memories are already coming back gradually, though.

The guardian angel bids you farewell, and you force yourself to do the same chipperly.

You know you can't fool Heaven for an eternity. That sounds exhausting, anyway. You'll inevitably fall from Grace, it seems. . .

You decide the best thing to do is be prepared if you're destined for such a fate. You'll gather some things for comfort and protection and research as much as possible to prepare for a new eternity in Hell.

The panic, betrayal, and sadness in your soul throb painfully, and you can't help but wonder. . .

Is this what Lucifer Morningstar felt?

. . .

It's only been five days since you've started regaining the memories Heaven so badly wants you to forget. You've had non-stop headaches, which only added more difficulty to pretending to be happy and brain-dead around other angels. It all makes you feel so drained. You're tired.

After the run-in with your guardian angel, you read the Bible for probably the first time in your life and the afterlife. You highlighted and annotated parts you believed were worth remembering for your safety. Each day, you went to the grandest library in Heaven and read about the history of Hell and Heaven for hours on end. To avoid raising suspicion, you'd check out books about gardening since you also want to be more mindful of herbal remedies.

You can only keep faking a happy smile for so long until you break, though. It happened this morning while you gazed at a family of ducks floating on a pond. You wondered if they were dead ducks eternally tied to Heaven like you. You wondered if they were allowed to keep their memories, unlike you.

You had everything you needed in your bag this morning and had finally let your face frown to reflect the hopelessness you've been feeling. You finally let your tears fall and hit the plush grass beneath your feet.

Your guardian angel shortly appeared, and with one look in her eyes, you could tell she realized you'd never be able to forget your mortal life. That dark flare in her eyes had returned, and you knew today you'd fall.

You'll miss the safety and comfort of Heaven, but at the same time, if they are so unbothered by sending one of their sinless souls to Hell simply because they remember their life as a human, then perhaps you don't want to be here.

You clutch your pleather bag tightly, afraid the angels will take it away. So far, they've paid no mind to your material items. Within it are a few plant seeds native to Heaven, a container of soil from the mini garden you had, a white wooly blanket, a change of clothes, twine, handmade bandages, a battery-operated curling iron, your annotated Bible, holy water, and a dagger crafted from celestial metal that you stealthily swiped from an exorcist angel. You never even knew exorcist angels existed until recently when you stumbled upon a few who were chatting about their apparent yearly visit to Hell to slaughter demons. It sent a disturbed chill down your spine when you heard how nonchalantly they spoke of murder.

Heavon-born angels scare you terribly. You can't even imagine how monstrous demons will be. But you're about to find out.

You are now knelt on an altar with a small gathering of what you assume to be higher-ranked angels surrounding you. You remember two names from your guardian angel here: Sera, who, come to find out, is a mighty seraphim, and Adam, the first human man. Your guardian angel is also present, and you loathe the look of pity she's giving you. As if she's not who reported to her superiors that you can't forget. As if she didn't seal your fate.

The angel Sera states your full name, which brings your attention back to her. She almost has a look of sympathy in her eyes as she gazes down at you. Almost. "Are you aware of why you are here, child?" Sera asks you.

You feel too uneasy speaking, so you nod. Sera's lips are held in a tight frown. "You never sinned as a human and rightfully earned a place here in Heaven. But unfortunately, we cannot allow our human souls to remember their lives as mortals. It disturbs the peaceful balance Heaven strives to upkeep. I hope you can understand our difficult decision."

Sera's words sound empty to you. It sounds like a script she's read a hundred times to a hundred different people. She most likely has and doesn't feel a twinge of sympathy for you. You want to say it doesn't hurt, but it does. This really does.

Sera's stern gaze never leaves you as she calls for another angel. "Adam, do you have the weapon I asked you to retrieve?"

Adam, who looks bored out of his mind, rolls his eyes. "Yeah, duh, it was like the first thing I did."

Sera's eye twitches at Adam's unprofessional tone. "Then, proceed with the ritual. There's nothing more to discuss."

You want to close your eyes tightly so you don't have to witness anything, but you can't tear your gaze away from the silver axe-like weapon in Adam's large hands. The rays of Heaven's sunlight through the chapel's window reflect off the weapon onto the marble floor in front of you teasingly. Provokingly. Mocingky.

You don't fight the tears swelling in your eyes.

Adam also doesn't seem to care about your situation and treats it as a mere nuisance in his routine. He struts toward you and doesn't even bother looking into your eyes, even though you desperately want him to. If Adam is about to chop off your wings and damn you to Hell, you want him to look you in the eyes as he does it. You want to see just how heartless this angel is.

How heartless all these angels are.

Your breath hitches, and your eyes widen as a coursing pain overwhelms your senses. Silent tears are now streaming down your face. You can't even choke out a scream of agony as your body nearly collapses, but with some strength, you manage to hold yourself up with your hands. You hadn't even had time to process how quickly Adam lifted and swung the weapon through your clipped wings.

Your heavenly white wings.

You can feel the golden blood flowing down your back, surely staining your white clothing and dripping onto the altar. Your back feels uncomfortably lighter as your wings fall to the floor behind you. All that remains are nubs portraying out between your shoulder blades.

The loud clanging of metal hitting the altar causes you to flinch. You never liked loud noises. With blurred vision from the tears, you gaze at your halo, which no longer shimmers and looks like an average ring of golden metal.

It's no longer connected to you because you are no longer connected to Heaven.

Almost poetically, you notice one of your feathers a few inches away from your Halo. With shaking hands, you reach for your halo and the feather, gently cradling it. You stare at these former parts of you momentarily before carefully putting them in your bag. You were always the sentimental one. You can't let go of the past.

You're no longer a being of light, but somehow, these monsters are holier than you. A bitter laugh escapes your lungs, along with a choked-out sob. Adam pauses his motions as he finally looks into your eyes, which hold so much sadness. He's the only other former human in the room, although your soul has much more humanity than his ever will. Deep down in Adam's aged soul, he does feel ashamed, but after everything he's gone through, he can't afford to care for anyone other than himself.

Adam raises a brow at you. "Don't see what's so funny about this."

You gasp for air a few times as you let out another humorless laugh. This agony you feel is consuming your soul, and it feels like you're drowning even though you're nowhere near a body of water.

You let your eyes close and shake your head repeatedly. "Is this what he felt?" you quietly ask no one, "Is this what you put him through?"

The angels are confused as they have no idea who you're speaking of. Adam looks to your guardian angel, who shrugs in response, and then the two look to Sera, staring intently at you. She knows. Who else but the brightest Morningstar?

Adam looked back to you and was about to question you since his angelic colleagues weren't, but Sera swiftly raised a hand to silence him. It'd be best not to allow Morningstar's name to be spoken out loud. She motions for Adam to continue the ritual since the final step is to open a portal to Hell, allowing you to fall to your final destination literally.

You clutch your bag tightly to your chest for some form of comfort. In a slow whisper, you say, "If Lucifer Morningstar is anything as the scriptures depict him as"-you open your eyes-"Then he is far more forgiving than Heaven ever will be."

Silent gasps at your audacity to say such words against Heaven almost make you bitterly laugh again. Although holding herself with indifference, Sera subtly narrows her eyes at you. Your guardian angel is covering her mouth in shock as if you said the most offensive words to her. And Adam has stilled. He's staring at you with such a blank expression it causes you to tremble with fear. But the look in all their eyes proves your words to be true. You have never met Lucifer Morningstar, and you most likely never will, but your soul already feels connected to the first fallen angel.

With an angered glare and no more room to speak, Adam snaps his fingers, causing a portal to Hell to form below you. The sudden pull of gravity causes you to scream in shock and your arms to flail desperately. Adam peers down at you with disgust as the portal shrinks away, just like any shame he had for what he did to you.

Instinctively, you try to flap your wings, but you only feel the muscles in your nubs excessively shifting. With your bag to your chest, you curl into a protective ball. You twirl in the air to have your back facing down, so that'll be the first thing that hits Hell's surface. You keep your eyes tightly shut as if it would protect you like a child hiding from monsters under their blanket.

You will your soul to warm itself up, causing a faint golden glow to surround your body in a weak but protective shield. You can only hope your soul has enough angelic energy left to protect your body from being fatally injured. But the Celestial light within your soul was dimming as you fell through layers of darkening red skies.

Sensing that you're nearing Hell's surface, you send out a final burst of your dwindling angelic power and successfully shield yourself from the impact as you crash into Hell’s jagged, red rocks, creating a large crater. Despite your minimal aura creating a fleeting cushion, the rocky surface seared against your former ethereal form, and the fiery abyss roared around you in an unforgiving embrace.

Your body trembles and twitches in pain. It would help if you slept after that burst of energy you used, but you know you can't. Not now. It's not safe. Surely, some demons saw you pummeling down and would be far too curious not to investigate. You need to force your body to move. You need to survive.

Slowly, you turn onto your side and lift yourself to your hands and knees. You take a moment to breathe before crawling out of the crater your body has formed, with your golden blood painting the surface. Adrenaline is coursing through your veins at this point. You know you'll pass out from exhaustion when you find a safe place. But you're in Hell; is there even a safe place to rest? Surely not.

Leaning against a taller rock, you shift your body away from the crater so you won't fall backward into it. You force your shaking hands to retrieve the twine, bandages, and battery-operated curling iron from your bag. You're still heavily bleeding, which is only worsening your weakened state.

You turn on the curling iron and wait for it to reach maximum heat. You then use the twine to tightly tie around your nubs, temporarily cutting off the circulation and minimizing the blood flowing down your back. Your movements are slow and sloppy, but it's the best you can manage as you fight for your conscience to stay intact.

Feeling the iron's heat and deciding it's hot enough, you lay it directly onto your nubs' open wounds, which causes you to wince from the burning. The nubs start to scab over from the curling iron's searing heat, finally stopping the blood from flowing out. You keep the twine tied just in case, though.

You remove your tattered clothes and messily fold them before putting them in your bag, not caring that you're naked since, at the moment, you are far from any other being. Hell's fire comforts your exposed body, but you only allow yourself a second to bask in it.

Without adequately cleaning the wounds first, you wrap your nubs and the parts of your body most damaged in your homemade bandages. You couldn't pack any medications due to Heaven lacking public medical supplies since the average angel never gets into a situation where they'd be in pain. You then pull out the new outfit you packed and slowly dress yourself, which covers most of your bandages.

You still look battered up with bruises and cuts on some of your exposed skin and cheekbones, but you figure that would be a regular sight in Hell.

Ever so slowly, you stand to your feet. Your legs are wobbly, so you lean against a rock for support. It would be best if you moved now that you did what you could do for your most damaged wounds.

Staring out into the city of demons further below you, a pit of anxiety forms. You're scared. You're so frightened of what may happen to you if you encounter a demon. You're not safe here or out there.

You'll never be safe again now that you're in Hell.

You need to decide quickly what would be the best for your survival. You don't want to venture too far into the city since you still don't know much of Hell. You should also find a bathroom or somewhere to clean your wounds and maybe rest.

#hazbin hotel #venus hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fic #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x you #hazbin lucifer x reader

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homo-rashi · 7 months ago

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Lost Connection (omorashi Soulbound A.U)

Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga)

Chapter 1: Binding Light

Word Count: 7,891 (Ongoing)

Summery:

Bakugo and Midoriya get hit by a quirk that binds them to one another physical and mentally. Not being about to be more than a meter away from his Childhood best friends, turned Rival. Bakugou learns alot about himself, and the world he thought he had figured out.

An Omorashi filled story of two idiots learning how to navigate the world sharing their every thought, feeling and emotion!

Read it on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55597111

Quirk related accidents in a world where 90% of the population has a quirk is nothing new. Whether it's a kid with a new quirk who has yet to grasp how to control it, or a quirk that oftentimes overpowers its users due to intense emotions, it happens.

So when Bakugo Katsuki is on a mock-patrol with Izuku Midoriya, or Deku, as he prefers to refer to the nerd, and gets blinded by a flash of light coming from the woman they just saved from two aggressive men, he isn’t surprised.

Katsuki kept up his professional appearance and dealt with the police while the nerd calmed the woman down and helped her over to the paramedic who arrived on scene to make sure no harm came to her, standard hero stuff. The woman was too distraught to explain what her quirk was when Katsuki was initially hit with the blast, but he felt normal so he left her with Deku, not thinking much of it.

“Oh my–I’m so sorry!” Another flash of light from the back of the ambulance caught Katsuki’s attention, He waved off the officer who was just asking him question in circles at this point to go over and investigate what the hell is going on,

“It’s okay! I’m Fine, see!” Katsuki walks in to Deku standing beside the woman, trying and seemingly failing to comforter her,

“Oi, What is your quirk and why do you have such little control over it?” Katsuki cuts in, needing answers,

“Kacchan—” Deku takes a step forward towards Katsuki but the woman cuts him off,

“I-I have control over my quirk, but once I a-activate it once, it's hard to not complete the connection.”

“Connection?” Deku’s attention falls from Katsuki back to the woman. He can see the familiar sparkle in the nerd eye at the idea of getting to learn about a quirk. Katsuki can already imagine the mumble filled walk back to school he is going to succumb to.

“My quick is called Link-click, I can connect two people's emotions, feelings and senses and well, physical bodies pretty much.” The woman explains, seeming more calmed now than before, Katsuki thinks for a moment, the realization hitting him suddenly that his arm mildly aches and there is slight stabbing pain coming from above his left eyebrows. Sure enough, he looks over at Deku and the bastard has a small, bleeding but above his left brow.

“You connected me to this fuckin’ nerd?” Katsuki asks the woman,

“Not on purpose! I s-sware.”

“Well no shit—” Deku cuts Katsuki off,

“Do you know if the effects of your quirk are reversible?” Deku cuts Katsuki off, He huffs in annoyance and crosses his arms over his chest, trying to ignore the mild ache in them.

“Uhm, no…It's not reversible—But it wears off eventually.”

“Eventually—”

“Kacchan, Calm down—”

“Define Eventually, Bit-”

“Kacchan!”

“M-my quirk isn't very useful, so I’ve only ever used it a handful of times. One time it lasted a week, the other times, a month…or two…” The woman avoids making eye contact with Katsuki, who is visibly fuming at this point.

“You–Come.” Katsuki grabs Deku by the arm, losing his grip slightly when he feels the pressure of his own grasp on his arm as well,

“Kacchan, Wait! We have to stay until the scene is cleared–” Deku protests, but Katsuki keeps pulling him down the street.

“We talked to the cops and the bitch is fine.”

“Kacchan! You can’t call civilians the b-word, that's not very hero-like.” Deku activated his quirk, grounding his heels into the cement. Katsuki gets pulled to an abrupt stop.

“You’re a third year hero student and you can’t even say Bitch? Tsk.” Katsuki sucks his teeth and continues on, with or without stupid Deku. He has to get to U.A before Aizawa-sensei leaves for the day and only pray his erasure can break this stupid connection.

Katsuki only manages to get a few feet away from abruptly stopping, but not of his own free will. The ground suddenly felt like a treadmill under his feet, his steps taking him no farther.

“What the fuck?” Katsuki takes a step backward, finding he actually is able to move. He turns to look at Deku who has that same sparkle in his eyes.

“I think you’re like, physically tethered to me…” He says under his breath, Katsuki can already see the cogs turning in his head.

“Try running the other way, dipshit.” Katsuki offers up and sure enough, Deku manages to get a few feet away before he stops, legs moving but no longer creating distance between the two of them.

“I’d say that like what, one and a half meters…maybe two?” Deku says, thinking out loud.

“No fuckin way i’m stuck being this close to you for god knows how long.” Katsuki walks back over to Deku, closing the short distance between them and grabs his arm again, Deku goes oddly quiet and follows Katsuki without a fight this time. The get about halfway back to the school before either one of them speaks,

“W-what are you afraid of?” Deku asks, stirring Katsuki from his concentration from just getting home.

“Hah?” Katsuki asks, not looking toward the green-haired nerd.

“When you realized we were going to be stuck together, I felt it. You were scared, or more like—” Deku hesitates, “terrified.”

“I’m not fuckin’ afraid of anything.” Katsuki says, clenching his jaw, picking up his pace slightly.

“I know what I felt, Kacchan.” Deku says, with that all-knowing tone that Katsuki has always hated. But he doesn’t respond, or argue because everytime he has heard that familiar tone in Deku’s voice in the past, the nerd has always been right, as much as Katsuki would never admit.

__________________________________________

“Well?” Aizawa says, letting his hair fall from its hovering state, eyes falling back to their relaxed position, the glowing red fading back to dark brown.

“N-nope we are still connected.” Deku says, with a shakiness to his voice that wasn't there an hour ago.

“How the fuck can you tell? Here-” Katsuki reaches out and flicks Deku in the forehead, and sure enough, the similar stinging feeling is mirrored on his own.

“Fuck, Ouch!” He grabs his forehead and rubs it for a moment, but it does nothing to ease the stinging. He grabs Deku’s hand and forces the nerd to rub his own forehead, and sure enough Katsuki can feel the pain subsiding. Both there attention it drawn back to their teacher who lets out a long sigh,

“Look, If I can't erase it then you two are gonna have to wait out the effect of the quirk, and from what you told me it seems like we might have to arrange some things.” Aizawa say, Katsuki looks between him and Deku, hating that this is his reality.

“You said you can’t be more than a few meters away from each other, so we will have to move a spare bed into one of your dorms–”

“Like hell I'm sleeping in Deku’s room, creepy ass All-might posters staring down at me.” Katsuki scoffs,

“You are also excused from patrol as well as any physical hero-training until this quirk wears off.” Aizawa says, Katsuki goes to speak up, complain about missing, for a far as they know, a month of Hero training, but he is interrupted by Deku gasping–

Both Aizawa and Katsuki turn their attention to the boy, who is now standing, legs crossed awkwardly in the middle of Aizawa’s office.

“Problem Child, do you need to use the restroom?” Aizawa asks, slowly, clearly shocked by the display in front of him

“Y-yes…sensei.” Deku says, but his word see so, unsure, Katsuki scoffs,

“Tsk–Can’t even tell if you need to piss? I swear I remember Auntie Inko potty training you, but I guess I’m remembering wrong–”

“Bakugo, Please take Midoriya to the restroom, I’ll meet you at your dorms once I'm finished here and help make those arrangements.” Aizawa cuts Katsuki off.

“Fine.” Katsuki rolls his eyes and grabs Deku by the arm again, not waiting to risk having him fall behind enough that Katsuki is stopped in his tracks again. It feels fucking weird and he would like to avoid it.

“Kaachan, wait! Not so fast!” Deku protests, “I have to g-go!” Katsuki stops and looks at Deku, the nerd actually has a hand shoved between his legs like a child. An unfamiliar sight actually, considering as kids, Deku was rarely the one caught in a ‘potty emergency’ out of the two of them.

“Jesus Christ! Why the fuck didn’t you go before now? We are supposed to be on patrol. What would you do if you had to fight some asshole villain like this?”

“I did go! right before we heard the girl who connected us scream, remember? that's why we stopped at Family Mart in the first place!” Deku says, although his words are rushed and more frantic. Katsuki can almost feel a jitter in his stomach, almost like nerves…

“Oh shit, you’re freaking out…” Katsuki realizes he is feeling Deku’s emotions, like the nerd felt his earlier, The anxious feeling simmering just below the surface makes Katsuki angry and uncomfortable.

“Of fu–freaking course I am! I’m gonna pee my pants!” Deku shouts. He actually shouts and–

“Did you almost just…say Fuck? You, Deku, the perfect, polite ray of fucking sunshine?” Katsuki doesn’t even try to hold back the smirk that crawl across his face.

“No! I mean—I-I think that was your anger–ah–” Deku wiggles in place for a moment before Katsuki feels his arm being grabbed, “We can figure that out later, after we get to the b-bathroom.”

Katsuki lets himself be dragged, trying to stifle his laughs at the way Deku is waddling and walking down the hall. The bathroom comes into view and Katsuki feels Deku pick up the pace.

“I’ll wait here. I’m not fucking listening to you take a piss.” Katsuki plants his feet outside the door, Deku has one hand on the door, and the other between his legs. He hesitates for a moment looking between Katsuki and the door and disappears out of sight.

A few seconds later and the door rapidly swings open, “Kaachan, I can’t reach!” Deku is stepping from foot to foot in the doorway, “You have to come in here.” Deku grabs his arm, the familiar lighting from his quirk flashing around him, Katsuki gets pulled into the bathroom before he can protest.

“Wait! Abso-fucking-ltly not. I’m not your babysitter taking you to go potty, Deku and I don’t want to see your dick!” Katsuki grinds his heels into the ground to avoid going any further into the bathroom.

“Kacchan--come on, just move closer to the urinals…I’m not asking you to go into the stall with me! A-And you don’t have to…look! ” Deku begs, a blush spreading across his cheeks at the last part. Katsuki averts his eyes immediately, looking over at the row of urinals, reasoning the nerd has a point. The urinals are the one acceptable place to stand next to someone with their dick out.

“tsk- Fine, just because I don’t wanna have to deal with you smelling like piss while you’re connected to me.” Katsuki takes two large steps over towards the urinals and averts his eyes.

He hears the frantic steps of Deku once he is in front of the urinal followed by the sound of a zipper being yanked down with enough force Katsuki would bet money the nerd broke it.

Katsuki expects the next sound to be nerd finally getting what he clearly needed so fucking badly, but the room goes silent.

“hgggnn-“

“Whats fucking wrong now?!” Katsuki asks, still averting his eyes,

“I can’t go!” Deku squeaks back,

“Hah? Why not?” Katsuki tries to keep his anger at bay, knowing the idiot will be able to feel it. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing he can evoke such…strong emotions from him.

“I don’t know! I still feel like the pee is right at the tip about to come out, like- I have to go, but nothing is coming out.” Deku explains. Katsuki could live without so much detail about the Nerds bladder. “Maybe it's—“ Deku pauses,

“What? Spit it out. I don’t wanna spend all afternoon in the fucking shitter, Deku.” Katsuki taps his foot impatiently.

“Maybe it's because y-your here…” Deku says and Katsuki’s foot abruptly stops tapping.

He thinks about the logistics of…that. Deku can’t be…shy? around him? They have known each other since they were brats. Hell, Katsuki can vaguely remember Auntie Inko changing the nerd's diaper right in front of him, as the old hag did to him.

Not to mention, the two were no strangers to using nature as their restroom as kids. The thought process being it was better than running home just to pee and risk either of their moms making them stay in since they were already home.

Sure…Katsuki knows things between them have changed since they were kids. For better or for worse, Mostly worse from Katsuki participation in their ‘friendship’ if you can even call it that but, being so…afraid? Is Deku so afraid of him that he can’t relax enough to take a damn piss.

“H-hey calm down-“ Katsuki jumps out of his train of thought with a hand on his shoulder, “I can feel you worrying, I-I’m fine…” Katsuki takes a moment to look Deku over, his hand that isn’t on his shoulder is between his legs, pants back up and zipper springily in-tact.

“Sure you are.” Katsuki scoffs, but wastes no time getting the hell out of there, He heads over to the sink and pauses, gesturing for Deku to hurry the fuck up.

“uh- I don’t think I can—“ Deku wiggles a little on the spot, “the water might—”

“Nasty ass, Fine, But you’re washing your hands after we figure out a way for you to piss…” Water? An idea pops into Katsuki’s head.

He doesn’t bother grabbing Deku’s arm on the way out, instead choosing to match whatever pace the nerd can manage to walk, or more so waddle out of the bathroom, the school and to the dorms.

__________________________________________

Katsuki manages to get the Nerd up to their floor before any of the annoying extras have a chance to corner them and ask them anything. He really only has the patience (and barely that) to handle Deku right now.

Katsuki on instinct heads to his room. He opens the door and hesitantly lets Deku inside. Usually, nobody is allowed inside of his room, but he is making an exception due to the circumstance and the fact that stepping foot in Deku’s room sounds far worse than letting the Nerd inside his at the moment.

“um, K-kacchan, I still have to…go-” Deku says, worry evident in his voice, as well as in Katsuki’s stomach. He could feel Deku’s worry getting stronger and stronger the closer they got to his room.

“Calm down, Idiot. I’m just getting some clothes.”

“C-clothes?” Deku asks, Katsuki looks up at the teen, standing as far away as the quirk permits him, still in the doorway.

“Yes? We just finished patrol, I gotta shower.” Katsuki rolls his eyes, hoping he doesn’t have to spell out exactly why he is choosing to shower right now of all times.

“B-but—“ Deku whimpers and Katsuki has to physically stop himself from turning around and blasting Deku out the door, quirk be damned.

“Yes. you have to fuckin’ piss! And the shower stalls are side by side—“ Katsuki says, slowly, as if talking to a baby or a fucking dog. The room is silent for a moment,

“heh-“ Katsuki looks up from his underwear drawers to see a small smirk on Deku’s face, one that doesn’t at all match the potty dance he is currently doing.

“What’s so fuckin’ funny?” Katsuki snatches up a pair of boxers and some black sweatpants.

“Kaachan just admitted he pees in the shower.” Deku teases. Katsuki's eyes widen only slightly before he composes himself.

He didn’t even think twice about that little fact. It’s so…normal for him to just piss in the showers. Especially because the showers are in a whole other room than the toilets in the communal space, it’s just easier.

In fact, Katsuki can’t remember the last time he has actually used the restrooms in the dorms. His days are usually consistent enough that he has never found the need to break his current routine.

He always showers first thing in the morning because his sweat is fucking explosive and not using his quirk all night makes him extra sweaty. He never stops to take a piss first, always just opting to go in the shower.

Then he eats breakfast and whatever, avoids people in the common room and goes to class. He never asks to go during class, today being the one time he actually has stepped foot inside the bathroom located in the actual school building.

He finds it easy enough to wait until he has to get changed for Hero training after regular classes are over. He changes into his gym or sometimes hero costume and pisses in the gym bathroom.

Then, because he is sweaty after he goes back to the dorms, showers and usually pisses one last time, because he stays hydrated while using his quirk and then goes to sleep.

Of course there have been times when he was not at school and had to pee, like during mock-patrol or on the off chance he went somewhere with Kirishima, But, generally, he likes to avoid public restrooms, or more so, having people know he needs to pee.

“So fucking what, your about to piss in the god damn shower weather you like it or not.” Katsuki grabs his clothes, turning to look at Deku- “You wanna go get clothes?”

“Uhhh-” Deku looks at Katsuki then at the door, then back again and few times, Katsuki can feel his uncertainty, like an afterthought in the back of his mind, ‘weird’

“If you can’t fuckin wait long enough to go to your room like, three doors down you can borrow these.” Katsuki grabs his oldest pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and tosses it at Deku,

“What ab-”

“I’m not lending you boxers, so shut the fuck up and lets go.” Katsuki turns and walks out his door, Deku follows close behind him.

Katsuki thanks god himself (all-might) for the way the shower stalls are set up in the communal area. There is only a thin tile wall separating the stalls. Meaning, in the case two people are connected by a quirk that doesn’t let them get more than a meter apart, they can still at least shower alone.

“I’m getting undressed inside the stall, do whatever you want just make sure to fuckin piss.” Katsuki slides the curtain shut, waiting no time, throwing his hero costume off and tossing it outside onto one of the benches to deal with after.

He turns on the hot water and settles under the spray, feeling finally a little less high strung from patrol. The water runs over his body and down his legs. He rubs his hands on his shoulders and down to his abdomen just enjoying the warmth and the steam.

His, or rather Deku’s sore arms start to feel less tense and Katsuki figures the Nerd must have finally stepped under the warm water in his shower stall as well.

“Kaachannnnn! I still can’t go!” He heard Deku’s whiney voice echo through the, thankfully, vacant bathroom.

“Tough shit, try harder.” Katsuki yells back, relaxing into his shower routine. He watches his hair first and rinses it out, then conditioner because he doesn’t fuck with threat 5-in-1 shit Kirishim and Sero sware by.

Before he washes his body, Katsuki spreads his legs ever so slightly and relaxes completely, draining his bladder from the last half of the day. It's always an amazing feeling to finally be empty–

“Oh–” Katsuki hears Deku squeak but ignore it, closing his eyes and continuing to empty his bladder, “Kaachan…Are you peeing right now?”

And his eyes fly open, his stream stopping before it ended, “What the actual fuck Deku! What’s it to you?!” He shouts, or rather screams because, why? Why does he have to be stuck with a boundaryless ass weirdo like Deku.

“Oh my god….” Deku seemingly ignored his question, “Do it again.” if Katsuki wasn't naked he would break through the wall and strangle Deku right now,

“As if. I don’t need to go anymore.” Katsuki reaches for his body wash, deciding if Deku is going to be a creep he can’t let his guard down.

“Yes you do, I can feel it.” Katsuki arm freezes mid-are,

“What?”

“I knew I didn’t need to pee! It was you! I was feeling your bladder capacity…But–Kaachan! Why didn’t you tell me you had to go as well?” Katsuki takes a second to gather himself, submitting this once to humor the nerd, considering this is about the quirk he is also being affected by.

“So…You knew I was peeing because…”

“Because I don’t really have to go anymore, but I didn’t pee…You did.” Katsuki processes that information for a second. It makes sense if he can feel the chronic ache from Deku breaking his arms so many times in their first year, it isn’t too crazy to fathom Deku can feel pain elsewhere…But Katsuki barley would say he was desperate to take a damn piss, if anything, it’s early. He wouldn't be taking his night shower, and in turn pissing for like, four more hours…

“Deku…Do your arms hurt?” Katsuki asks, testing his theory,

“Um- no, Not particularly.” Deku says, Katsuki sense no dishonesty in his answer,

“Fuck. It’s because you're used to it.” Katsuki groans, leaning forward and letting the water run over his face,

“Do your arms hurt?” Deku asks back, he can tell without looking at him that his eyes are sparkling.

“Yes, because i’m not fucking used to feeling like ive broken my arms a hundred times, just like you, apparently, aren’t used to not pissing a hundred times a day.” Katsuki sucks his teeth, realizing how much more annoying this quirk is.

“I-I pee a reasonable amount of times a day.” Deku argues but Katsuki is done thinking about this.

“Just shut up and wash your balls.” Katsuki grabs his body wash,

“W-wait…Can you please finish going?” Katsuki doesn’t say anything, “It might not feel l-like alot if left for you b-but….i have smallbladderokay.”

Katsuki almost misses that last part, clearly, the Nerd is actually ashamed about something, or atleast embarrassed a little.

“Fine.” Katsuki offers, he prepares himself to go once again, but is hesitant because he now knows the nerd will be able to tell whenever he goes. He will feel relief.

Katsuki shakes his head and buckles down. He lets loose, only a stream of clear pee trails down his legs and into the drain, not lasting more than fifteen seconds.

“T-thanks Kaachan.” Katsuki cheese flush with embarrassment.

__________________________________________

“I already told you, it's not happening.” Katsuki said, looking back at Deku, walking down the hallway towards his (their) dorm room, towels still draped over each of their shoulders.

“B-but, It would only take five minutes, Kaachan!” Deku protested, “you really want me sleeping next to you going commando.” Katsuki stopped in his tracks,

“You will be sleeping across the room in a separate bed, facing away from me and keeping your dumbass mouth shut. I want to forget you’re even there.” Katsuki explained. His nighttime routine is his one and only time to relax and unwind. Deku being there is throwing him off. The least the nerd can do is make this as comfortable as possible for him, all things considered.

“What about my toothbrush? And my school stuff?” Deku pushed, “I need to go back to my dorm, just once.” To katsuki it almost seemed like Deku was one step away from getting down on his knees and begging…Katsuki isn’t sure how that makes him feel.

“Fine but afte—”

“Problem children.” Katsuki’s dorm comes into view, Aizawa is standing outside of it, a large box accompanying him.

“Sensei!” Deku picked up his pace to greet the tired looking man, in turn, making Katsuki have to walk a little faster. The two quickly help Aizawa get the box into the room and unpack it.

“The fuck is this?” Katsuki looks down at the lump of cloth on his floor.

“Language—it's a futon, or Midoriya bed for the duration of his stay in your dorm.” Aizawa explains,

“Oh…so traditional. Todoroki would be enthused….” Deku starts mumbling about Half and Half while Katsuki grabs the floor bed and drags it on the opposite side of the room as his bed.

“Oi, come over here.” Katsuki calls for Deku, He obliges. Katsku walks over to his bed and lays down, not feeling pulled back or tethered and comfortable with the distance between them, he relaxes slightly.

“Now, for some rules.” Aizawa moves to lean against the door frame, “With this quirk you share not only emotions and a physical connection, but pain receptors as well. I will not have you, Bakugo, inflicting any pain on yourself in order to harm Midoriya. Same goes the opposite way as well.”

Katsuki scoffs, “as if I’d hurt myself just to hurt him, he isn’t worth it.”

“Furthermore,” Aizawa gives Bakugo that look. That look that for some reason always makes his chest tight, the same look All-might has given him before, but less painful. “I got you each a pair of these from my personal stash–” Aizawa pulls out two pairs of corded ear plugs.

“If anything, they are to be used for personal conversations that need to take place, since you two can’t very well have privacy at the moment. I hope you will respect each other's wishes when requesting privacy.” Katsuki takes the ear plugs, discarding them on his bedside table.

“Sensei—” The nerds hand shoots up, “I-um, My thing with hounddog sensei…” Katsuki look over at Deku, eyes bouncing awkwardly around his room, the nervous feeling twiddling in his gut again,

“Hm,” Aziawa pauses, clearly thinking, “It’s up to you if you want to continue under these circumstances, I would highly suggest it, considering…I’ll leave you two too figure that out on your own—” Aizawa turns to leave, pausing before he close the door,

“No…funny business.” Aizawa murmurs, closing the door. Katsuki immediately looks over at Deku, squinting his eyes in skepticism.

“Why do you have a thing with the school security?” He asks,

“Ah…it’s nothing you need to worry about Kaachan.” Deku says, in an almost dismissive tone.

“The fuck thats supposed to mean?” Katsuki puts up an angry front, really feeling annoyed at the fact that anything about Deku could still be considered a secret between the two of them. Because for god sake, Katsuki knows about One for All, nothing can be as big of a secret as that.

“Just leave it, please?” Deku sits down on his futon, eyes looking around the room once again.

“Tsk.” Katsuki takes the towel from his shoulder and drapes it off the back of his rolling chair, grabbing a pair of slippers from inside his wardrobe. Thankfully, he can move around his room without issues when Deku is sitting on his Futon. One of the only pros of how small the damn dorms are at this rich ass school.

“Let’s go eat, nerd.” Katsuki grabs another pair of slippers from his closet and chucks them in his general direction.

__________________________________________

“Are you fuckin’ allergic to anything?” Katsuki asks as he opens the fridge, a few people are studying, or otherwise lounging in the common room, but thank fuck its none of the more loud-mouthed extras.

Tokoyami is sitting at the table, eating what appears to be a bowl of cereal, while Kota and Sato are sitting watching some nature documentary on the T.V.

“Uh, j-just shellfish…Why?” Deku asks, taking a seat at the island on one of the stools. Katsuki hopes he can reach the entirety of the kitchen from where Deku is seated.

“I don’t know how much this quirk works, so I don’t want you going into shock or some shit cause I ate something.” Katsuki explains, looking at the ingredient on the back of the instant curry he bought a few days ago.

“Oh, Good idea! I’ll have to make sure not to eat any Peanuts.” Deku says, smiling. Katsuki has to look away to hide the nameless expression on his face. Why did the Nerd have to remember his minor peanut allergy? Why did he not know Deku can’t have shellfish? Katsuki has been cooking for their entire shitty class since their first year, and he is certain he has made something with shrimp, crab for sure….

Katsuki makes their curry, dividing it up into two bowls, spicing his serving to his liking, Deku’s, not so much. He remembers from the few times the nerd was over at his house when they were kids, that he doesn’t handle spicy foods very well. His loss.

“Oi, Nerd, wait–” Katsuki halts Deku with a smirk before he takes his first bite, Katsuki takes a large spoonful of his curry and eats it, watching Deku carefully.

“W-what?” Deku asks, looking between his curry and Katsuki,

“Pfh, Nothing. I just wanted to see if you could taste what I eat.” Katsuki assumed not, but with this damn quirk you can never be too sure.

“I already knew that because I got shampoo in my mouth in the shower and you didn’t say anything.” Deku takes a bite of his curry, “Oh wow! This is delicious! Thank you Kaachan!” Katsuki smirks and turns away, his full attention going to eating.

Katsuki stays planted in his seat the entire time they eat, casually catching a glimpse of Deku getting up and going into the kitchen for a few seconds every couple minutes. It's only after the fourth time it happens that Katsuki looks up and watches Deku fill up a cup of water and drink it at the sink.

“You drink a shit ton.” Katsuki comments,

“I don’t usually, I mean, I stay hydrated but I just feel like I have a thirst that I can’t quench…” the air between them goes silent once again. Katsuki finishes his curry first, opting to do the dishes while Deku finishes, considering he can't go anywhere without him at the moment.

“Kaachan, can you get me another glass of water?” Deku asks, pushing his bowl away. Katsuki rolls his eyes but fishes out two glasses from the cabinet, filling one with water and the other with milk for himself. As much as he loves spicy food, he still likes to neutralize his insides with milk after intaking such high levels of spice.

Katsuki takes a few stips of his milk between cleaning Deku’s bowl and putting away leftovers for any extra that don’t want to cook for themselves,

“Kaachan, do you normally not drink anything with your meals?” Deku asks out of the blue,

“Hah? I mean, No, It’s bad for digestion.” Katsuki answers honestly, turning around to wipe the counter down where they ate, Deku is memering to himself again, Katsuki only catches the tail end of what he is saying,

“If I'm thirsty when Kaachan is thirsty but he can't tell, does that mean the weaker of the two senses is overpowered by the other? Is it the same for emotions? What about distance? Could I travel farther away from Kaachan because I'm stronger?”

“What the fuck did you just say?” Katsuki ditches the damp cloth on the counter, palms immediately crackling with anger,

“I–The water, I was thirty because you were–” Deku goes to explain but Katsuki doesn’t care about there stupid connected sense,

“Like hell you actually think you are stronger than me!” Katsuki walks over and takes a fist full of Deku’s shirt, or well, his shirt. He doesn’t let off any more explosions unless he wants to ruin his own thing because of Deku.

“Kaachan…My quirk is basically super strength…” Deku says, hesitantly.

“I could beat your ass anyday, three times over.” Katsuki shoves Deku in the chest, he stumbles off his barstool slightly, Katsuki ignores the mild thrum on his own chest from the blow.

“I–We, I know you're strong, but in terms of lifting weight, If we use our quirks, I have the advantage.” Deku explains, but Katsuki won't hear it. Even if he knows the Nerd has a point…He has All-mights quirk for crying out loud, of course he can bench more than Katsuki himself, he has an explosive quirk, it does nothing to enhance him physically. He would never admit that to Deku, under his dead body.

“I’m going to bed.” Katsuki abruptly takes off from the kitchen, But is halted in his tracks just outside the kitchen. Katsuki’s heartbeat quickens.

“Deku, hurry up.” He doesn't look back, He tries to take another step forward, but he can’t. He scrunches his eyes close, trying to will his breathing to slow down, sinking…sewage…his throat closing, breathing ragged and slugedy.

“It’s only seven…I was supposed to study with Todoroki and Lida tonight.” Katsuki barely hears Deku’s shity voice through his panic. Why is he panicking again? Oh, right He can’t move.

Muzzles, Quirk canceling handcuffs. Wood, forcing his back straight. T.V camera’s flashing around him, everyone ignoring his screams, Aizawa, Present Mic, All-might—

“Hey–” Katsuki jumps out of his panic, finding his feet able to move again. He looks around only to meet Deku’s worried eyes, “What's wrong?” Deku asks him, in an honest to god earnest tone.

“Bed.” Katsuki answers as a response. Suddenly exhausted. He hasn't….freaked out because (hell if he would admit to ever having a panic attack) in a long time. Since second year. The sludge villain attack was at this point, the least horrific encounter with villains he has faced. He thought he was over that. And the way the teachers handled things at the sports festival in his first year have been rectified, or well, at least they never bound and gagged him on national T.V again…

“O-okay, but um—I was hoping we could stop by my dorm-”

“We can get your shitty toothbrush tomorrow.” Katsuki says, feeling like he is dragging his feet. Lucky said feet are moving so the nerd is actually listening to him for once.

Deku doesn’t say a word to him the entire elevator ride up, not when Katsuki stops by his room to grab his own tooth brush before heading into the bathroom. The nerd only speaks up once Katsuki is finished with his skincare and dental hygiene (even if he is dead tired he can't have ugly ass skin and yellow teeth)

“C-can I use the restroom before we go to sleep?” Deku asks, quietly. Katsuki looks between Deku and the row of stalls. He doesn’t have to go at all, and since they are connected Katsuki would feel if Deku had to go,

“Tsk. Hold it.” Katsuki walks toward the door and doesn’t get stopped in his tracks. He goes back to his dorm, kicking off his slippers and falling into bed. He hears Deku do the same, and the unfamiliar ruffle of the futon in the last thing he hears before he shucks his hearing aids onto his bedside table and promptly passes out.

__________________________________________

Izuku’s eyes burst open, his immediate surroundings unfamiliar, but one thing's for sure he isn't underground, he isn’t chasing down Kai Chiasaki. Eri is safe and—

“Ahh–mpph-” Izuku slams a hand over his mouth to stifle his shock of realizing where he is and feeling it… His, or, oh god no…Kaachan’s sweatpants he is wearing are cold and wet and sticking to his thighs in a familiar yet long forgotten way.

“No, no no–please, why didn’t I insist on going before I fell asleep?” Izuku looks down at his lap, cold piss slowly making his presence known by the itchiness creeping up on him. Izuku slumps down in defeat. Who is he kidding, even if he did pee before bed, like he doesn’t every night, this was still a possibility.

Izuku looks around the room, Kaachan is still dead asleep in his bed, thankfully. Izuku takes a moment to center himself and assess the damage, something he hasn't had to do since his first year at U.A.

The first thing that makes his breathing pick up is the fact that this is the first time he has wet a Futon. A mattress? He is a pro at cleaning mattresses at this point in his life (much to his dismay) but this? It's basically a giant thick blanket…But Izuku isn't sure it can go in the wash, nor if it would even fit in the communal washing machines on the common floor.

His instinct is to grab his phone and call one of the few people who know about his nighttime issues…All-might, Aizawa-sensei or Lida. He has never had to call them about this before, they just know because of different circumstances. All-might knows because initially, Izuku thought it was maybe a side effect of taking such a strong quirk, but now with having a handle on his quirk and the issues still persisting, they both ruled that out.

Aizawa-sensei had to know because of the training camp they attended their second year. It was only fair that Izuku gave his teacher a warning that the accommodation beds the school was paying for, probably wouldn’t come away from this without being soiled. Aizawa referred him to Hounddog for therapy when they returned to U.A the next week.

Hounddog also knows everything…But Izuku would never call him for this sort of thing, not being as close to him as All-might or Aizawa, or rather he is close to him in a therapist way and not this kind of way.

Hounddog was the one who suggested Izuku start wearing protection to bed in his early months of his second year. They had been working on his nightmares, the source of his bed wetting, but they were seeing no progress and the dog hero just wanted Izuku to be comfortable. It became a normal thing in Izuku’s routine.

Iida found out by accident…Izuku got careless, or rather, comfortable with him…issues. It was just normal to him at this point. So when Iida knocked on his door asking if he could borrow his graphing calculator late one night, Izuku let him in and told him it was in the drawer of his desk.

He didn’t specify what drawer and Iida opened the larger drawer on the base of his desk rather than the small one under the face of the desk. The large drawer that Izuku stores his protection in, for lack of a better place to put it. (He often left his wardrobe open because of the mirror inside the door so they would have been in plain sight if he kept them there)

Iida was of course very understanding once Izuku calmed down and was able to explain why he had a desk drawer full of All-might themed diapers. The engine hero never told anyone, to Izuku’s knowledge, and has even been great at helping Izuku make excuses on why he often declines sleepover requests from their other friends.

Izuku trusts all of these people, and he would love to be able to call any of them right now, even if so they could just calm him down and talk him through what to do…But his phone is in his room, along with the protection he kept trying to figure out how to subtitle get from his dorm without Katsuku knowing, or seeing or being suspicious at all.

Because if there is one person in the world Izuku doesn’t want to know about this particular issue of his, It's Kaachan.

Whether the blonde will ever admit it, the two of them are equals, more or less now. Atleast, way more similarly matched compared to when they were kids, after one of them manifested a quirk and the other…didn’t.

Kacchan is strong, but so is Izuku. Kacchan has an amazing quirk, so does Izuku now. They have both fought villains, some ending in victory, others not. They have faced death of one's dear, of civilians, or friends, family… But only one of them seems to be struggling with, well, all of it.

Izuku knows damn well Kacchan doesn’t have weekly therapy sessions with Houndog (even if he thinks he would benefit from them) But that's the difference, Kacchan would benefit from Therapy, sure! It would help him with his anger and constant foul language, but Izuku. It’s different.

He was barely functioning outside of class before Aizawa got him the help he needed. He was putting on a false facade for everyone, while going back to his dorm and suffering in silence. Whether it be from nightmares, flashbacks or other PTSD symptoms. He was debilitatingly stuck in a constant state of fear, while also, forcing himself to move forward, fight villains, Basically encounter the very thing that was causing him stress and anxiety in the first place…

Anxiety…Izuku swore he felt a the familiar bone chilling, gut wrenching feeling from Kaachan earlier in the kitchen, but such emotions live so deep inside of them, it's hard to tell if it really was a feeling as a result of the quirk, or i just being so close to the explosive boy for so long brough up his old feelings from childhood….

Izuku looks over at the sleeping boy's face and it's peaceful, not a single wrinkle or worry line evident as he rests. It's hard to imagine him falling deep into a nightmare that feels so real you lose control of your bladder.

So yeah, Izuku really didn’t want Kaachan to know ... .but in the situation he has found himself in he sees no other option than to go to his childhood friend.

“K-Kaachan.” Izuku shout whispered into the cold night air of the room. Nothing… “Kaachan, hey—” Izuku shouts again, the blonde doesn’t even stir.

He stands up, ignoring the cold dribble of pee that runs down his legs from the change in gravity and quietly, walks over to Kacchan’s bed. Izuku hovers his hand above his friend's shoulder, stalling because he is really signing himself up to be made fun of, probably cussed at and most likely, ridiculed for the rest of his time at U.A.

“Kaacha—wah–”

“Fuck off!” Katsuki jumped up from his bed, startled away by someone grabbing him. He flung his sheets of in an instant, sparky flying off his hands, ready to attack whoever the fuck it is. Blood kink girl? Crusty ass lip fuckers, the giant ass lizard—Deku?

Katsuki looked down at Deku, seeing his mouth moving but not hearing anything but a faint grumble of mushed together words,

“Hold the fuck on and shut up—” Katsuki leaned over and grabbed his hearing aids, popping them in and immediately being assults with a reched sob—wait what?

“I didn’t mean to! I-I’m s-s-s-o sorry Kaachann! P-please don’t—I’ll clean it up! Please—Hck—” Wait…Clean what up? Hah?

Katsuki takes in the scene in front of him. Deku is sitting on the floor by his bed, tears streaming down his face. Katsuki takes a step forward towards the nerd, only stopping when his sock becomes wet and warm and—oh.

“I-w-wanted to wake you up so you c-coul–hck–”

“S’fine, Nerd…Get up.” Katsuki reaches his hand out toward Deku. He can’t just let him sit in a puddle of his own piss all night, blubbering like a baby. “You have to shower and I need to get a towel or some shit for the floor.” Katsuki pulls Deku up, albeit slowly, the Nerds legs are shaking.

“I–Didn’t mean too—” Deku says, whipping his eyes,

“Well I would hope you didn’t purposely piss on my floor.” Katsuki huffs, but Deku starts crying again, loudly.

“Shhhh, You wanna wake up the whole floor? it’s not big deal…I should have told you not to wake me up…fuckin’ can’t hear shit when im sleeping, stupid hearing aids and all that.” Katsuki normally has a very good idea of what's happening in his surroundings, but even he will admit, not being able to hear is his biggest weakness.

“I—the futon.” Deku lowers his head. Katsuki looks between Deku and his floor bed, now noticing that the floor isn't the only place that houses a large wet spot…

“You wet the bed?” Katsuki asks, Deku nods, but doesn’t look up at him.

“Fuck’n hell…And then you…again? Really?” Katsuki can’t fathom having an accident, let alone two in the span of one night.

“You’re the o-one who didn’t let me go b-before we went to bed.” Deku looks up at him through his curly green bangs,

“Tsk, You knew this was gonna happen?” Katsuki turns away, ready to head towards the door,

“I—” Deku pauses, Katsuki looks back at him. “Will you make fun of me?” Katsuki has to think about the question for a second…His gut instinct is to say yes, of course. This is easy ammo…they are seventeen, almost eighteen, a few months away from being pro-heros. Wetting the bed, or even just pissing your pants is not normal, But—

Katsuki has been there. Not in the last ten years, but, as a kid he wasn’t one of always walk away from his and Deku’s playdates with dry pants and Deku never made fun of him for it, if anything he was always helpful…So,

“No, this…fuck, was out of your controll, stupid nerd.” Katsuki has to cut the nerd some slack. This situation is mortifying, he would bet Deku’s worst nightmare consisted of something akin to this exact scenario.

“I need to go to my dorm…it’s…”

“Just spit it out, it smells like piss in here, and that's not me making fun of you.”

“Ihavetogetmyprotectionfrommydormorelsethiswillhappenagain!” Deku mutters, all in one breath…

“pro—Diapers? You wear Diapers!?” Katsu`ki asks, thinking he must have misheard Deku…Deku doesn’t–He never—as a kid, that was Katsuki. Deku was the one always drilling, taking breaks and staying hydrated and maintaining his health by not holding it until he was dancing in line for the restroom..

“You said you wouldn’t make fun of me.” Deku says, arms crossed over his chest,

“I’m not! It's just—-Are you…sick?” Katsuki hates to admit he would kick himself if the nerd was close to kicking the bucket and he didn’t realize.

“N-not physically, no.” Deku answers, calmly. And Ah. It all clicks.

“Nightmares?” Katsuki starts walking towards the door, sliding his slippers on once again. He looks back just in time to see Deku silently nod. “Shit sucks…” Katsuki says, opening the door to follow Deku out to the showers.

#bnha omo #my hero academia piss #fanfic #fictomo #omorashi #piss kink #mha piss #bakugo katsuki #omo fic #mha #a03 #author

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tiny-minecraft-rabbit · 7 months ago

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how to show your heart on your sleeve

After the events of how to growl and bare your teeth by Odaigahara, Pearl begins to learn, with the unintentional help of Scar and Grian, that she is not unloveable.

Part of @mcytrecursive made for @destinys-dragon

Words: 1131

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Pearl curled around her hand, glaring at it like that would make the burn any less painful. She hardly felt it was fair that she was burned. How was she supposed to remember that she couldn’t just grab the kettle off the fire without a rag, it’s not like she’s used one in over two years; probably longer since she’s heated it over an open fire instead of a furnace.

She had just wanted to get the tea ready for the three of them before Scar and Grian came back from the nearby town. She had stayed to cook and hunt, happy to once again traverse the forest.

She even found a few of her wolves again. It was clear that the pack had thinned, and she mourned the loss of some of her girls, but she had found Tilly again. The silver wolf was thinner than she remember, and the eyes had aged from their light green to a swampy yellow, but it was her Tilly alright.

Grian had been wary of the newest addition to their travel party, but Scar had fallen in love in an instant, cooing over the wolf like she was a little puppy and not the terrifying hunter she was. Pearl had to agree though, Tilly was about as adorable as a puppy. Sweet like one too, when she wasn’t mid-hunt.

Her head poked up as she heard rustling in the woods and the now familiar tones of Grian and Scar. They were once again arguing and she couldn’t help smile as she picked out a few words. Not even two weeks after their grand escape, just a two towns over, and Scar was already starting a scam. They weren’t even out of the Lonely Kingdoms yet, for goodness sakes! She’d have to hear what this was about.

“Ah! There she is,” Scar exclaimed as they came out the bush into their little clearing of a campsite. “Pearlo, you just have to settle this debate we’re having.”

“It’s not a debate, Scar. You want us to do something stupid, and I’m telling you not to,” Grian replied with a heavy sigh.

Scar tutted, setting down his bag by the fallen log they had dragged over before setting himself down on top of it. “See, Pearlo, I want to– What happened to your hand?” he asked mid sentence, brows furrowing.

“Oh this?” Pearl asked and waved her hand out, much to fast for either soulmate to see, before tucking it back under her crossed arm. She grimaced as the burn brushed against the fabric of her shirt, “It’s nothing. Just a bit of a burn. Scott will– Or… no. Huh, I guess it’ll just heal on it’s own eventually then. Unrelated question, how long do burns heal without potions?”

Grian sighed then, setting his own bag and beginning to dig through it. “Okay, crazy lady, let’s see it.”

“See what? I’m fine ,” She insisted, drawing out the ‘i’. She stood, Tilly sitting up to watch her, and used her uninjured hand to grab the potholder off to the side. She grabbed the kettle off the fire properly this time, “See! I boiled water. For tea! You guys like tea, right?”

Grian didn’t even look up from his bag, just continuing to pull out medical supplies. Scar gave her a soft look, walking over and setting a gentle hand on her arm. He moved her arm to set the kettle back down. “Let’s have tea after. We don’t need to be soulbound to know that you’re hurting.”

She blinked up at him in quiet surprise, something warm exploding in her chest. There was no shame or anger in Scar’s gaze, just his usual kind smile. She left a growing lump in her throat as she glanced over to Grian. She expected annoyance from him, he was annoyed with everything the two of them did if he wasn’t actively participating in it himself, buy instead he was contently organizing their meager supplies. He was going to waste bandages and medicine on her .

“I.. I don’t know what to say,” She muttered softly, “You– You guys don’t need to help me, y’know. I’m not going anywhere. Can’t get rid of me, really. Probably.”

She would follow these two fellas wherever they wanted to go, for as long as they tolerated her. She half thought they would have gotten tired of her by now, but they hadn’t shooed her off like a dog that begged for too many scraps just yet. Instead, they acted like they actually wanted her around. Like she wasn’t a nuisance they kept around for the sake of convenience. Though, she couldn’t figure out what would ever be convenient about keeping around a broken soulbound and her feral wolf would be.

“You’re our friend Pearl, we’re fixing you up cause we want to,” Scar answered, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Oh,” She said, dumbfounded. She doesn’t think she’s had someone just want to do something for her, just cause, since– since even before she ran from Scott.

Ah, and there were the waterworks.

Scar’s eyes widened in surprise and he immediately squished her face between his hands, “OH no. No. No. Why tears? Why crying? Grian, why is our Pearlypop crying?”

She could hear Grian groan loudly from the other side of the campsite, “I don’t know, Scar! What did you say to her?”

“I just said we wanted to fix her up and she started crying!” Scar exclaimed, letting go of Pearl’s face so he could push her towards his soulmate. “G, fix it! Fix her!”

Pearl couldn’t help it, beginning to giggle through the tears. Something in her was tearing apart: a wadded up ball of stress she hadn’t realized was sitting in her chest was being torn apart bit by bit with every sob and laugh she had while listening to the two squabble.

This. This is what she wanted when she left. She had thought she had wanted carefreeness of the woods. She thought she wanted the biting winters over palace walls.

Scar sat her down on the log and Grian began the careful administration of salve onto her burns and bandages around her hand. He made cutting remarks about how weak she was for a weird little witch as he did so. Tilly slipped beside her, nosing at Grian’s arm and he let her, only stiffening up a bit. Scar held her free hand and cooed over her, wiping her tears and promising her first dips of all the fresh fruits and vegetables they had brought back with them.

She wanted this. She wanted company and friendship and, most of all, she wanted people who cared for her. She wanted love, and she finally had it.

#pearlescentmoon #grian #goodtimeswithscar #mcyt recursive #desert duo #3am pearl #tilly #mcyt fanfiction #double life fanfic #fanfic of a fanfic #double life #life series #traffic series #rabbit writes

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hopepetal · 1 year ago

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This is something I wrote a couple months back, but never did anything with the au after.

Writing Masterlist

“Hey, G-man?”

Scar’s calling for him again, in the same way he’s always done. Grian can’t blame him– they’re soulbound, after all, and that man seeks approval and attention in a way that makes Grian almost want to picture him with floppy ears and a wagging tail. Almost, but not quite, because Scar is already so perfectly Scar that it infuriates Grian.

Scar pokes his head into the keep, and Grian tries to hold back a sigh as he shuts the chest he was rummaging through. “Hey, G-man, I was just wondering–”

Grian interrupts him. “Scar, if this is about the pandas again, I’m not going to be very happy.” He tries not to wince when he shuts the poor man down. He doesn’t want to be cruel, and it pains him every time he sees Scar’s face fall, but Grian has long been unable to afford the luxury of friends.

It wasn’t always this way, of course it wasn’t. What kind of story starts out with a character who’s already sad? Clearly not an entertaining one, not to the omnipresent beings that decided they’d have a hand in controlling Grian’s own. No, a story had to start out with something precious, something fragile. Something like flowers, like friends and an oath, or a loyal companion as your only friend.

And then, just when you think you’ve finally won, that precious thing is taken from you and destroyed, and you are never the same and that’s what makes a story interesting.

In Grian’s opinion, a person’s life isn’t a story that can be erased and rewritten when it doesn’t suit your taste, but who is he to challenge the narrative gods who call themselves the Watchers? Sure, he once swore he’d never bow to authority and be a force of pure chaos and revolution, but those values tend to falter after being forced to kill the one person outside his family that he’d allowed to touch his wings. So sue him.

Scar laughs, but it’s not the kind of laugh Grian’s used to hearing. It’s the kind of laugh that comes from nerves, along with shaking hands and jumbled thoughts and fear that you’re going to screw everything up. “Nah, I just wanted… I still want to, I just, you know, I wanted to check in! See how my partner is doing! Normal things that allies do, because they can!”

Grian tenses up the moment the word ‘partner’ leaves Scar’s mouth. It’s familiar in the same way the desert sun is. It’s bitter in the way it feels so familiar, but so strange at the same time. Scar hasn’t called them “partners” since third life. It’s only ever been “soulmates” or “soulbounds”, because that’s all they were. Two people who had their souls randomly bound together by fate, against their will. They were not partners. They were allies, sure, but it’s only reasonable to ally with the person who shares your life.

Grian stands up, sighs, and slowly turns to face Scar. “What do you want…” The words get stuck in his throat as he realizes what Scar’s holding.

Scar looks up at Grian, and offers him a bouquet of lilacs and poppies. “Can we… can we still be friends?”

And Grian feels...

He feels.

For the first time since the desert, since the harsh sun shone down on tanned skin, bruised and bleeding. For the first time since he beat his best friend to death and jumped to his own, Grian feels a crack in the numb, emotionless barrier he’s built like fortress walls around his heart.

It’s all he can do to keep from letting those carefully crafted walls crumble as he stares at the lilacs and poppies held in his soulmate’s hands. Flowers given to him once by his partner, with skin as grey and lifeless as steel, were now being offered to him by the very same hands Grian remembers desperately clinging to after death.

“What is this, Scar?” he asks, and he tries to keep his tone as cold as the icy fear that slowly grips his heart.

Grian still remembers the confusion in Scar’s eyes. He could never forget how Scar patiently waited for him to finish sobbing out desperate apologies and pleas for forgiveness, before taking his hands and telling him “it’ll be alright, Grian. That sounds like some awful nightmare.”

And no matter who he asked, it was always the same thing. Slight confusion, a furrowed brow, and a gentle “are you alright?” as if they hadn’t lived and died by the sword for months on end.

He’d been half-convinced he was making it all up in his head before Scott came to him after last life and told Grian what he knew. It had been comforting, at the very least, to know that there was someone else who understood.

But as for the rest of the players...

It was only natural Grian began to drift away. It was only natural that he closed off his heart to the world. They wouldn't understand– couldn't, because to them, the death games were nothing but particularly bad nightmares Grian had, despite the carefully practiced insistence that they did believe him, he just had to take a deep breath and they’d talk about it and–

The look in Scar’s eyes, so jarringly green and bright, is something Grian only saw when those very same eyes were red.

Scar chuckles awkwardly, looking away. “Look, Grian, I... I know I’m not exactly the smartest guy around, but I can tell when something’s up. Not only that, but I…” He pauses for a moment, trying to think his way through his words. “Grian, I’m going to be completely honest with you here. I died. And then, all of a sudden, bam! I wake up, and I’m here! And, woah, what are the odds, you’re here too! And at first, I was overjoyed, but then I realized…” Scar’s voice saddens, and he looks back up at Grian. “I realized that something was wrong. And, y’know, you’d think a man would know that somethin’s wrong when he wakes up from death, I mean, that’s the one thing you don’t wake up from, but like I said, I’m not the brightest fella!”

Grian knows that’s a lie. Scar is brilliant, in his own sort of way, and that was proven by how he’d convinced everyone that he was anything but that. Grian had seen him in action, when he swindled people out of their diamonds, armor, and weapons during third life. Grian knows that Scar is one of the smartest people he’s ever met, and yet he can’t find the way to say that.

He can’t find the way to say anything, apparently, because he’s in shock. Probably. Is that how this worked? Whatever it was, he was sure it made him look positively stupid, standing there completely unresponsive like a zombie.

However it makes him look, it clearly worries Scar. “...heyyyy. Earth to G-man. Hello, Grian? Don’t die on me now, that would be bad. That’s– that’s my thing, remember? C’mon, G, wakey wakey!”

Grian snaps out of whatever daze he was in, and tries to keep his voice from shaking when he speaks. “...do you really… remember…?” He sounds quite a bit like a lost child, and feels like one too. “The desert…?”

Scar’s expression softens. He holds out the flowers with a hesitant smile. “I don’t really know what’s going on,” he admits, “but–”

Grian throws his arms around Scar, tears streaking down his face. The bouquet of flowers falls to the ground as Scar gasps, before he hesitantly hugs Grian back.

The carefully crafted walls around Grian’s heart collapse.

#my writing #goodtimeswithscar #grian #desertduo #double life #life series fanfic

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ashtonisvibing · 9 months ago

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"You have both of our lives in your hands!"

Fandom: Life Series/Double Life SMP

Alternate Universe: None (Canon Divergence)

Ship(s): Slight mention of Grian x GoodTimesWithScar

Character(s): Grian, GoodTimesWithScar

Warning(s): None

Originally Published: February 4th, 2024

Word Count: 1,601

Author's Notes:

seasons skirmish gift for dusty_daffodil on AO3

first time writing... anything for mcyt, let alone the desert duo. but i certainly tried! :D

if you liked what you read, consider giving this a reblog, please! it'll let more people see my work!

[plain text: if you liked what you read, consider giving this a reblog, please! it'll let more people see my work!]

Full Story:

The sound of a pickaxe whacking against stone was the only sound that carried through the tunnel Grian had started to make for himself. Nearly a month in and neither him nor Scar had any sort of diamond equipment, not even a measly hoe or shovel. And with how wreckless Scar was being, Grian was fed up with using only iron armor as protection. He had such a huge chance to not end up with one of the few people here who had no regard for their safety. How did he manage to luck out as badly as he did? Well, what’s done is done now. All he needed to focus on was making sure they didn’t lose their first life already.

“Damn it, where are the diamonds??” Grian huffed, resting his pickaxe on his shoulder as he looked back up at the makeshift stone stairs that was his mineshaft. He couldn’t see the outside with how deep he had gone. “I’m almost out of torches, too. I’m surprised I haven’t found much coal down here, either..” He looked back at the stone in front of him, gently fiddling at the red, yellow, and blue feathered wings where ears should have been. A forcive habit for whenever he was thinking. “I should probably get back to the sur- Gah-!”

The avian dropped down on one knee as he clutched his chest, using his pickaxe to prop himself up. A sharp, burning pain shot from his heart and spread around his chest. He was far too familiar with this pain by now, even if it was usually slightly dimmed down. The phantom pain of his soulbound partner taking damage. And judging by how impactful it was this time…

Grian tapped the glowing green heart on his chest, revealing his health and hunger bars. And he was suddenly down four hearts. Okay, maybe Scar just fell while dealing with his cats, nothing to- “Shit-!” Another wave of pain, another three hearts lost. What was his partner doing up there?! He quickly grabbed a piece of steak out of his side bag and ate it in hopes of keeping his hunger up. It must be night time right now, why else would the two be taking so much damage

And suddenly, after another bout of pain… One heart left. The avian was panicking now. His face was pale and breathing quickened, almost to a degree that it felt like he was choking on his own air. This was it, they’d be losing their first life. And then it wouldn’t be long until they were down to red, and then completely losing. He started to scramble out of his mine shaft. His hearts were slowly regenerating; Scar might have gotten a moment of peace and was eating. But that didn’t mean the danger was over. Since it was currently night time, he could get swarmed by zombies, or blown up by a creeper. He could simply fall off a cliff.

Grian just hoped he could find his partner in time before anything happened.

The avian decided to stop by their base first, calling out Scar’s name into the dark oak trees around him in the hopes that he’ll get a response. But he wasn’t getting anything. Scar could be on the other side of the area for all he knew. At the very least by now their hearts were almost full. Grian just had to hope that it would stay that way until he found his partner.

“Scar-!” He was quick to rush through the entrance of their base, eyes darting around frantically in the hopes he’d spot a glimpse of his friend. “Scar, are you here?!”

“Grian!”

Running through the entrance was the man himself. With that stupid without-a-care smile on his lips, his hand waving to his partner before stopping right in front of him. “Oh man, you’ll never bel-”

“Scar, we just almost died, what the hell were you thinking?!” Scar was used to Grian’s frustrated yelling by this point. There was no shortage of silly and, to everyone else, stupid ideas from the salesman, especially now that he had acquired those huge gray cats. And considering that yes, he almost got the two of them killed, he wasn’t surprised that the other was so upset.

“Oh Grian, you would not believe how many monsters can appear in the jungle!” Scar laughed a little as he headed over to the cat pit, pulling some bamboo sticks out of his backpack. Grian was quick to follow him. “I just wanted to grab some snacks for the kitties, and suddenly I’m getting swarmed by skeletons and spiders! Good thing you had some food on you, I completely forgot to grab some before I left.” He chuckled, about to jump right into the pit, before his partner grabbed his arm to stop him.

“Scar, I really don’t think you understand. We. Almost. Died. And for what, just because you wanted to feed your cats?? They don’t even need to eat!” He threw his hands up in the air to try and add more emphasis to the situation. His feathers were getting really ruffled trying to get the other to understand the situation.

“Well- I didn’t think you’d be so upset by this.” Scar huffed a little, deciding to just toss the bamboo sticks into the pit in the hopes that the felines would just eat them themselves. “Sure, we almost died because I got caught by monsters, I’ll admit to that. But guess what? We didn’t! So no harm done!” And there was that confident smile, one that could either quell the avian’s worries or just make him more annoyed by how sure Scar was in whatever he was saying. And unfortunately, it wasn’t the former.

Grian took a deep breath, through the nose and out through the mouth. He couldn’t let himself just blow up on his partner. His singed pants remembered the last time that happened. “Okay. I don’t think you quite understand the situation here. The two of us?” He punched Scar’s arm, hard enough to remove half a heart from their health. The other responded with a “Hey-!” as he rubbed where he was punched. “We’re linked! I wouldn’t be upset about you running off to who knows where at whatever time if we weren’t! But any damage you take, I take, so whenever you go off on your silly little adventures you’ve got both of our lives to worry about. I just-” The avian let out a sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why do you constantly put yourself in danger, hm? Is it just to prove some sort of point?”

Scar was completely taken aback by Grian’s words. He hadn’t even thought that his own little adventures would upset his friend so much. Sure, this wasn’t the first time he’d gotten them so close to death. But it’s not like he ever did it on purpose. Yet the avian was upset all the same. And when Scar gave it a second of thought, he was right to be upset. He could always be a little more careful, a little less reckless. He could try to not go out at night, or start fights with the other soulbound people here. He could try to be a better friend.

“You’re… You’re right.” He chuckled a little, fingers running through his hair. “I really haven’t been the greatest friend, huh..? But I’m gonna start doing way better. And I can start by- By getting rid of these pesky cats!” And like he did only a couple of minutes before he tried to jump into the cat pit. And like last time, Grian stopped him. But this time it was more out of confusion than anger.

“Wha- Scar, I didn’t- You are the most… Bullheaded person here, aren’t you?” Despite his words, there was a small smile trying to form on his lips. Oh, he was trying hard not to be amused by his friend’s antics that never made sense. It was certainly a tough task. And Scar’s laughter wasn’t helping in the slightest.

“And here I thought you hated the cats. Have you warmed up to them, my friend?” That cocky smirk was on his lips as he crouched down a little to meet Grian’s height.

Grian hated his friend’s cocky nature. He hated how he never thought things through, how quick he was to jump into anything. How he always made a bad situation seem good. And how his smirk could easily bring a red blush to the avian’s cheeks.

He was quick to turn his head away so that said cheeks wouldn’t be visible, trying to hide his fluster as he crossed his arms over his chest. “No, not at all! I just- You’ve cared for them since day one, it would be stupid to get rid of them so soon!”

Grian’s stubbornness to always be right was the funniest thing to Scar. And who was he to deny his friend’s needs? He chuckled as he put his hands up, surrendering to the avian in front of him. “Alright, alright, the cats are staying then! Now, for my first decision as the new and responsible Scar, I say we go to bed. That way the day will come and all the skeletons and zombies and such will burn away.” Despite his attempt to hold it back, the avian let out a little chuckle as he looked up at his friend. Always the one for the dramatics. Another thing he “hated”.

“That’s the greatest decision you’ve ever made.”

#ashton is writing #mcyt #life series #double life smp #grian #goodtimeswithscar #scarian #gift fic #avian grian

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