Bloodletter was a pain in the ass. Always prancing around with that dumb grin of hers, telling shitty jokes during the shittiest of times. Acting as if laughing like a fool was enough to trick people into believing that she had no thoughts in that big head of hers. ( as if there was no way she felt something as serious as pain ) But it was a load of bullshit. A fancy act that only complete idiots would fall for, and Bakugou wasn't an idiot. He wasn't an idiot and he unfortunately knew Bloodletter better than most. Knew what it sounds like when the jokes finally fall flat, when her voice shakes under the pressure, and when her entire being cracks at the desperation she tries so hard to hold back.
And he knows. He knows what her eyes look like when filled with horror. The stutter of her breath as if basic functions like breathing was ripped from her. Knows what the sudden jolt of movement feels like as she frantically closes the distance between them. The way her arms jerk up, with blood rising at her will. The feeling of blood rushing up against an open wound, trying to suppress the bleeding that had already bled for far too long. He knows how warm she felt. How her hands were soaked in blood but so damn gentle as she held up his weight. How grounding she was, as he just uselessly sagging against her, all his energy having been spent on dragging his bleeding ass across the battlefield.
And he didn't know why he did that. Why, after finally knocking the damn villain out, he turned to where he last saw Bloodletter before they split. Why, while he felt the pounding in his head, and the way his vision fuzzed and strayed, he could only think about finding the other hero. It's not like he would be much help, as fucked up as he was currently. And yet somehow, he couldn't stop. ( couldn't call it a victory till he knew Bloodletter’s condition. and as battered as he was, if by any chance Bloodletter needed his help, he'd force his damn body into providing backup, wounds and all )
But it hadn't come down to that. Katsuki making it just in time to see Bloodletter deliver the finishing blow to her villain, both of them covered in red, but it was clear from the manic grin that Bloodletter was fine. Her victorious laugh cackling through the field, and it settled something in his chest, allowed his frantic need to fade ( though, perhaps that was his conscious fading, because the next thing he knew he was on his knees, without having noticed he stopped walking )
It was a shame that Bloodletter’s grin fell right as she turned around, meeting his eyes. The miniscule adrenalin that was keeping him going evaporating once he saw Bloodletter safe. Perhaps he didn't think this through. And maybe it wasn't ideal to move as much as he did with his injuries. And he supposed he should have tried to stem the bleeding a bit, instead of letting it gush out of him like it did. Maybe then he wouldn't have been feeling as lightheaded, his body heavier than lead and unwilling to move the way he wanted to. Maybe he wouldn't have Bloodletter cursing in his ear, have her desperately controlling his blood to prevent his condition from worsening.
She was probably doing something, he thinks. He didn't feel the pain anymore, at least ( and some faint warning was ringing at the back of his mind. that feeling nothing wasn’t a good thing ) but he also didn't have energy to pay much mind to that. It was hard to concentrate anyways, and Bloodletter was saying something again. Yelling, more like. But there was an annoying ass ringing drowning her out. His fucking eyes refused to open too. It would have annoyed the shit out of him normally, but he wasn’t able to gather enough anger to do anything about it. It’s been a while, since he couldn’t reach out to his anger. That was probably a problem. As was the fact that Bloodletter was still screeching in his ear.
" ...pipe....down... " He tried to say, tried to inject the disgruntlement he'd normally have in the face of her fussing, but he couldn't tell how many of the syllabus he actually pronounced. He felt her shift, reminding him he was only vertical because she was fucking holding him up. He could make out some words, the frequently repeating ones like shit, and idiot, and fucker. ( those words only beat by the frequency of the words of okay, and safe, and please )
And it was that last word, that got him to blearily open his eyes again, forcing his vision to focus with sheer will, trying to make out what bits of the blurs were Bloodletter. He wasn’t all that successful, but he could almost physically feel the rise of hope within the Pro Hero anyways, which was so typical. She was always so damn easy to please. Way too willing to hand out praise, even disguised as jokes as they were. It pissed him off at first, but she had always been so damn insist about it, insisting she was serious, of why would she joke about that, that of course she thought he did good even when he fucked up, and —
And, she really was too damn easy to please. It was just too fucking bad, he had to disappoint her now, of all times. It was getting harder to hear, the sounds getting weirdly muffled by the ringing once more, but he could just faintly make out the clatter of people making their way towards them. He could just make out the last few words, a cry of "stay awake” — but his eyes were already drifting shut again. He couldn’t do as she asked — begged — and he hated being the reason she sounded so miserable.
And it was probably just that, the feeling of regret and failure alike, that prompted him to rasp out his next words, barely carrying among the noise surrounding them, which was just fine. It was only meant for one person anyways.
" ...s...orry, Nic'lette... "
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So hello!
I realize it's been like, a month and a half since I've been around. At first, it was because the day after Christmas, my family went on vacation to Texas! We were there until after the new years, and then for a week or two we were getting back into routine from all of that and some drama. Then there was fear on my end, which ;waoeijf;d.
However! I am back, and excited to (slowly) get back into things.
As of now, any threads that I had in my drafts or replies waiting for me are archived. However. If there is a thread you would like to continue, please feel free to send me a link to it! I'm all for continuing a thread, I simply feel starting fresh may be the best way for me to mentally jump back in.
So! Hello! Let's do things! I look forward to talking to you again!
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Shoutout to everyone who experiences delusions because of anxiety or trauma, it can feel scary when the whole world seems to be against you, when you're trying to survive and still in hypervigilance mode.
I feel absolutely isolated when I have them, but know, that you are supported and loved, if not now, then in the future. Its okay to fear being abandoned or left behind, but it's not true that people don't care. They deeply do care about your feelings.
If you're afraid, you're not alone. Paranoia is scary when you have been surviving all your life on your own. But be proud of surviving, be proud of living. Your brain loves you. Your body loves you. You're safe now, the past is over, no need to try to fix anything.
And if you have just delusions, not because of anxiety disorders or trauma disorders, I hope this post may also be soothing. I experience delusions because of anxiety and trauma, so I don't know the usual experience, but I know how scary it is.
You are loved. You are loved. You are loved. Please don't forget that. People will always care and there are people who don't want you to be in pain. Here's to you, you made it, despite all your scars. Don't blame yourself for feeling hurt. Bravery is not without fear, you are proof.
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🍋Lemon Boys🍋
I just have a really strong personal headcanon about Sebastian stumbling into Styx's shop sometime after their first meeting less than sober and with nowhere else to really go... so I wrote it...
A Sour Meeting 🍋
Styx felt the breeze but hadn't heard the door. Who the f-? He wasn't expecting anyone, and anyone he would usually be expecting knows better than to come this late.
He tried peering over the stack of books on the counter, could just about make the top of a black hoodie wavering in the door way. Who the fuck? Walking to the front he made mental note to move those books later.
Black jeans, black hoodie, neither really fitting - something almost familiar, although there was nothing particularly identifying either so could've just been that.
"Who the fuck are you?" It came out harsher than Styx had meant but whatever, serves this kid right for showing up at this hour. "Who sent you?"
Styx saw it this time. Small, almost imperceptible, but he had had lifetimes of reading people. On the opening of the demand the kid's hand tightened against the doorframe; bracing themselves for something. Not my fault not my problem, thought Styx.
The figure swayed in the doorway head bowed. "Can I- can I comein?" a slight falter that wavered with his body, steadied by the doorframe.
Who opens a door and Then Asks if they can come in! There's no use saying no at this point, it wasn't like he was locking up anytime soon. Styx waved a hand to allow indicating he could come in. The figures eye flicked up questioning the silence.
Those eyes were familiar.
A familiar green. Unusual eyes. The eyes recognized him too. Shite. What was this kids name?
Apparently the recognition was what was needed to encourage the kid into the shop enough to close the door.
"Thank you." more curt than genuine.
Nothing.
"It's feckin cold out," then curiosity got the better of him "why you wandering around at this time anyway?" not that it's my issue he internally added.
Hands shoved deeper into pockets, stretching the jumper out. No answer.
"Everywheres closed." A mumbled shrug. That's what you get for trying to talk to kids thought Styx and started moving the stacks from the counter.
Those green eyes followed Styx as he moved and rearranged the shelves. Something cat like about them. It wasn't just the colour, but the way they felt overly perceptive as though they could see things that weren't quite there; and haunted with a glint that suggested maybe they had. Perhaps that's why they seem to lose focus every so often? Leave it alone Styx warned himself.
Silence. But strangely not uncomfortable.
"I don't remember your name?" admitted the voice, bolder than before. The question drifted over the books, the unsaid statement hung heavy, even without eye contact.
"I didn't give it." Styx retorted quickly as he turned away. He wanted to add 'and what of your name huh?' but didn't. He remembered it being something short, single syllable maybe? What.Was.It?!
"I- I meant from ..." the slight waver in their voice was back. Styx unseen expression soured. He knew the kid was asking about when he had stumbled across Styx getting beat and mistook him for a peer. Come to think of it, what had he been doing wandering the streets then as well? Far too late for him to have finished school or whatever excuse he'd given.
"Didn't give it." sharper than he had meant, and he didn't need to see the kid to know they'd flinched. Well he could leave reasoned Styx silently. What was his name?!
Silence. Now uncomfortable.
Fuck all this. He should never have let the kid stay.
"What is this place?" Any nerves well hidden in another attempt to break the silence. Probably trying to buy more time inside, thought Styx, immediately regretting his graceless thoughts. Or maybe the kid liked the effect books had on the outside world, quietened it. A welcome break from harsh electric screens everywhere. Not that he cared about the kids nerves or his thoughts on books.
"Bookshop." Not flinch but an almost freeze, "Hence all the ... Books." Styx continued whilst gesturing vaguely, in an attempt to soften his previous statement. He was bad at this. Stupid fucking kid. Maybe there was an F in his name? What.was.it?!
"Look I'm not gonna kick you out into the cold but I don't have to talk to ya." There, problem solved.
Comfortable silence followed. Thank fuck.
Styx continued shelving and rearranging, half an eye on the kid watching him pull books and leaf through them not really reading them. Those green eyes seemingly sharper now, no longer bracing themselves against bookshelves and doorframes. The kid was surprisingly respectful, reshelving books as they found them. And thankfully he didn't and any further questions despite the … unusual subject matter of many of the books.
"I'm Sebastian." No follow up question, no break in flicking through the book he was currently looking at. Just a statement to the room.
"Styx." also not breaking his movement shifting a heavy leather bound tome. "At least that's what I go by now."
Those green eyes flicked towards Styx at the second part. Judging? No. Studying? Maybe. Definitely as though he, Sebastian, had more questions but knew better than to ask. Good. At least he's a quick learner so he won't be as annoying in the future. Future? It was Styx's turn to freeze, internally. What the fuck was he thinking, as if this kid is gonna be one to stick around. He pretended to balance the register.
Fen! Sebastian Fen!
Fecking Fen. At least that had a nice ring to it, Styx got the feeling he was gonna be cussing this name for a while to come.
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