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writetomyheart2021-01-07 11:41 pm
thesecretdoor.livejournal.com) wrote in writetomyheart2021-01-07 11:41 pm
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[team two] first aid
As per usual...this was part of a bigger things i was writing. Only I got bogged down in trying to make it medically accurate and here I am...
Bakugo-centric; T (for mild blood/gore); ~300 words
Again and again the scene plays through Bakugo's mind. He hears again Kirishima's triumphant whoop and his adrenaline fuelled laughter.
He hears again the moment it stops.
He sees the way Kirishima's eyes widen, the way he...fuck...crumples to the ground and God there's so much blood.
He can still smell it, clinging with the smell of stale sweat and nitroglycerin to his hero costume. He can smell again the burning flesh...
He pushes himself up from the table. Shakes the visions from his mind as he paces the tiny box of a room. A waiting room they told him, because Bakugo refused to leave the hospital, refused to change his clothes, to sit fucking still until he knew...
But they couldn't have a blood stained hero pacing the corridors so they led him to a private waiting room. It feels more like an interrogation room with its stark white walls and small table, the camera in the corner that follows his pacing passed the closed door.
The police will be here to speak to him soon they said. Just procedure...and yeah, part of Bakugo knows that...there's shit like this after every villain attack, even if a student doesn't end up...
Fuck he'd been so pale. Bakugo never wants to see the whites of Kirishima's eyes again.
He screams, explosions lighting up the remnants of bandages on his palms and he screams until he chokes and stars swim behind his eyes.
It's better than the memories.
But fuck he's exhausted.
It feels like he’s been pacing this floor for days though he knows it can only be a few hours. It must be late though, it was nearing dusk already when the fight broke out and he might have lived a lifetime since then.
He sits back down at the table, forehead thunking heavily against it and he closes his eyes even though he knows he won't sleep.
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faded_lace It's your turn...
Bakugo-centric; T (for mild blood/gore); ~300 words
Again and again the scene plays through Bakugo's mind. He hears again Kirishima's triumphant whoop and his adrenaline fuelled laughter.
He hears again the moment it stops.
He sees the way Kirishima's eyes widen, the way he...fuck...crumples to the ground and God there's so much blood.
He can still smell it, clinging with the smell of stale sweat and nitroglycerin to his hero costume. He can smell again the burning flesh...
He pushes himself up from the table. Shakes the visions from his mind as he paces the tiny box of a room. A waiting room they told him, because Bakugo refused to leave the hospital, refused to change his clothes, to sit fucking still until he knew...
But they couldn't have a blood stained hero pacing the corridors so they led him to a private waiting room. It feels more like an interrogation room with its stark white walls and small table, the camera in the corner that follows his pacing passed the closed door.
The police will be here to speak to him soon they said. Just procedure...and yeah, part of Bakugo knows that...there's shit like this after every villain attack, even if a student doesn't end up...
Fuck he'd been so pale. Bakugo never wants to see the whites of Kirishima's eyes again.
He screams, explosions lighting up the remnants of bandages on his palms and he screams until he chokes and stars swim behind his eyes.
It's better than the memories.
But fuck he's exhausted.
It feels like he’s been pacing this floor for days though he knows it can only be a few hours. It must be late though, it was nearing dusk already when the fight broke out and he might have lived a lifetime since then.
He sits back down at the table, forehead thunking heavily against it and he closes his eyes even though he knows he won't sleep.
faded_lace It's your turn...