[ He ought to assure Bakugo, tell him it'll be fine, it's just a surgery, routine, entirely experimental, unanaesthetized, entirely fine, bro. He ought to be doing a lot of things right now, but somewhere in between trying to keep calm about the situation and following each lurch in his veins in response, he'd lost track of the time, of himself, of the blood bubbling around him in copious reply. When Choso blinks, it seems to be in puzzlement as he takes in the blood on the walls, in his field of vision, the slow-churning storm around them.
Bakugo works fast. Before the thought can even spark that this might not be an ideal place to be, the hero's voice cuts through the gurgle and the bubbling and the rapids-rush of the blood in his head, and the blood that had begun to shiver dangerously stops altogether. Don't move. Stop talking. Listen.
So Choso listens. His focus turns inward as Bakugo works, to the rush and the pound in his chest, lets the directive lead the fritzed frayed ends of his focus into the task of replenishing the blood slowly oozing itself out of his face. The stuff on the walls begins to slide, to slip further down and onto the floor like oil on foil, so that by the time he finds himself hauled up like a bulky pack, most of it has begun to pool in a growing, glassy puddle around the room perimeter. To his credit, the path between Bakugo and the door remains clear.
To the bathroom. Running water, the hiss of it overhead. Logically, is that not the best place to be? Pay attention, Choso: Bakugo is asking a question. ]
Nho. No medhickh.
[ What if it interrupts? What if it throws something off, what if it somehow comes back around on Yuji, what if, what if, what if? What if the idea of a LILITH staff member perceiving him right now makes his stomach drop?
[He knows about the fucking surgeries here. He's seen the results of it on at least three of his companions. He doesn't approve of it either, especially since there are other means of anesthetics. It's another reason he doesn't trust LILITH. Whether Choso's aware of the mess he's made around the room or not, he's still getting his ass taken out of there. Whoever's room this belongs to... is gonna be horrified when they came back. Unless it's Choso's room, though Bakugo knows he stays in Yuji's room. Megumi's? Fuck it.
The smell of burned blood, sugar, and smoke isn't going to make it any more pleasant, but that won't be their problem because they won't be in the damn room much longer. Once Bakugo gets Choso settled, he plans to come back and either leave a note or clean up the room. But that's for later.
Well... at least some of the work's been done, what with the blood around the corners and on the floor now. Gross. This is going to be hell to clean. They might have to get some hazmat extras in here to handle it, unless Choso can remove stains too. Something else for later as he hefts the guy up and heads for the door, staying on the cleared path.
Hopefully Choso will keep his face ducked so the blood goes into the blankets around him rather than dripping all over the ground. If the dorms are laid out like each other, then it won't be hard to get himself and his bundle to the nearest bathroom.]
Are you bleeding out or is your technique being a bitch?
[That's the important part. If it's just his technique, he won't call a medic. But if not... He kicks the bathroom door shut behind them and moves Choso to the tub, settling him in it carefully.]
I'm gonna turn the water on and then clean you up.
[ Choso makes for an okay burden to haul, given that he hasn't moved an inch since told, but the flipside is that the blood follows them. It oozes in their wake like a belated shadow, long and vast as a grounded pennant, it follows them all the way to the Revelation bathrooms, streams over tile and grout in that oilslick roil so that when Bakugo settles Choso into the tub's polished embrace, he isn't alone for long.
Red pours into the basin like an overflow in reverse. ]
A bitch. [ It is the clearest word he's said all damn day, for being two blessedly short syllables, and it's entirely at odds with the horrorshow of the blood flooding around his bagwormed body into the tub only to gurgle away down the drain.
Gross. But at least it's going somewhere conductive.
At the warning of the water, Choso nods his head, too wrapped up (literally, figuratively, spiritually) to bother with something as frivolous as embarrassment over their respective roles here. His head only bobs toward the sound of that voice, the anchor holding down the world while the phantom echoes of another human's lucid brain surgery sets the waters roiling. Eyes follow Bakugo's familiar figure easily; here shines a simple, implicit trust, a faith in this one entity among the countless many scattered throughout the base. ]
Khhhaygh. [ that was assent in there, somewhere, surely. ]
[Bakugo can carry a lot despite his size, more with his Quirk, but that's not happening here. Shit. He'd hoped to have that blood all wrapped up in the blankets, but figures the trail following them from the room is less what's coming out of Choso and more what's already come out. Hopefully it's not going to crawl up his fucking backside or something.
It also means he's getting out of the way once Choso's settled in the tub and the blood slithers back in like a damn gummy snake. Then more. Yeah, excuse him for perching on the counter with his hands, legs up, until the blood's back where it wants to bed. Weird shit... Choso's response is clearer than the past ones, but he's happier to hear the blood going down the drain. Once it's not as mobile, Bakugo turns on the water, keeping it small and slow for now so it can warm up first without spraying Choso with a freezing shower. Not that it's shower yet; the faucet's left to pour down into the drain.]
I'm gonna find some gloves.
[As the water warms up, Bakugo ransacks the bathrooms cabinets, sink, closet, and finally finds a box of rubber gloves. That'll have to do. He snaps them on, grabs a bunch of towels from the closet, and then opens the toilet nearby before pouring cleaner and bleach into the commode's bowl. Only then does he check the water and deem it warm.]
Gonna open these. Don't shoot me in the face.
[He starts working on the blankets to peel them open from the front, trying to avoid the blood and using the water to splash onto the man's legs and waist to start washing the blood off.]
I'll wash you off so you can bleed freely.
[This is more than Bakugo would ever say normally, but he has the feeling his voice is keeping Choso grounded, so dictating his moves helps to serve that and keep the man knowledgeable of what he's doing.]
[ Bakugo’s narration reminds Choso to remain present, to stay here in the confines of the tub and to not chase the bloody hare down the dangerous path of his fritzing blood connection.
Don’t shoot him in the face. Doable. Wash off, doable. Bleed freely, more than doable. ]
It’sh ohkay.
[ The blood is tenable, he means; this will pass, he means; no one is in danger, he means, but it’s more words than Choso is prepared to say, more than he has room for in his blood-thick mouth. So he must make do with this pitiful attempt at reassurance, head bowing as if to say, ‘thanks for hosing me off, mister’. ]
[There's not going to be any damn chasing while he has Choso pinned in the bathroom. Bakugo glances up at the shower head, then quickly stands to grab it, pull it from its holster, and drops back down to crouch by the tub so he has it at the ready if and when he needs it. He's not going to have Choso sliding around in the bath to get himself cleaned off.]
This isn't fucking "okay" you asshole.
[Don't give him that "i'm fine" bullshit Yuji and Izuku are both known for doing in his life. He doesn't believe them when they say it and he's not about to believe Choso either.
And don't "mister" him either. Once he's got the blankets open, Bakugo works the water over Choso further, gloved hands wringing and rubbing at his legs to wash the blood off. He switches on the shower and uses the tethered head to spray the warm water along Choso's calves and thighs, slowly but efficiently cleaning his pants legs off.]
This better not be a fucking reflection of what they're doing to Itadori...
[Cause if his friend's over there spitting blood and looking a gory wreck, Bakugo's liable to storm the medical facility and blow the hell out of it.]
[ Choso's voice is a gurgle, it's spittle and blood pushed out between his teeth on the hard consonants, it's hitched higher than before because ]
It isthn't okay.
[ Bakugo is right, of course he's right; Choso had wondered at it, worried at it, had looked over the rundown of the prodecure with dread in his heart but Yuji was determined, was the picture of super-human adaptability, was woefully indestructible to the degree that this, none of this was okay and here Choso was despite it all, wrapped like the world's worst spring roll while a cat performed brain surgery on his brother.
The distant, inward cast to his expression ruptures with the pinch and draw of his brows up, with the wrinkle of his chin and the clench of his jaw like he doesn't know if he wants to snarl and snap or cry. It's so open a shift, such a raw thing gleaming wound-wet and shiny like he doesn't know how to hide it, but he doesn't look away while Bakugo works, couldn't if he tried. The least he can do is angle himself into a 'corner' of the tub furthest from boom boy's face, completing the look of 'dog at groomers', the only courtesy he can offer in this as his mark begins to bleed bright arterial red anew. ]
They're in hihh-- they're in hhhis head!
[ Be calm, listen, keep doing that, this isn't okay, a fucking reflection, words on words on words piling up and as his pulse kicks up a click Choso's hands creep back up to press the heels of his hands against his temples, fingers fisting in his hair to finally finish off that second odango. ]
[He quickly leans forward with the shower head, cupping his hand underneath it and aiming the spray at his palm. It's obviously enough to collect in there, which he uses to wipe at Choso's lips and attempts to get him to open his mouth so he can swab a finger in there.]
Open your mouth. I'm not gonna have you choke on this shit.
[He can and will shove his finger down Choso's throat to make him puke if blood starts clotting in places it shouldn't. But right now, a finger around his teeth and the water cupped and pushed against his mouth should be enough to help flush out anything that wants to stick in there. As much as he wants to worry about Yuji right now, Bakugo isn't going to abandon Choso for that. Yuji would kill him. Or cry. Which is worse.
At least Choso's not wrapped up too much now as Bakugo works on clearing the blankets open around the bath so he can free the man's body for more washing. It's hard as hell not to watch Choso's expressions and get his heart thrown into his mouth each fucking time. Whatever's going on with Yuji isn't good. He's quick enough to get his finger out before Choso bites the fucking thing off, but... yeah no, you're not cinching up in the corner like that. Bakugo pulls him right back down, using the blankets around him like a makeshift slide.]
Don't scrunch up! I'm cleaning you off, dammit!
[There's another muffled protest. -in his head- DAMMIT, GARI HEAD!! What the fuck are you allowing them to do to you now?! Bakugo snaps his hand out and grabs at Choso's hand before he rips his hair out.]
Look at me! Choso! Look at me. Don't get lost in your own head!
[Whether it's some kind of blood link or psychic link, it's not helping matters and he has to try to keep Choso's attention off the horrors going on in his brother's surgery. If that's even possible.]
[ The only saving grace for either of them is that it's Bakugo doing it, Bakugo laying out his intent, Bakugo pushing past bloodied lips and teeth to swipe the strange tang of vinyl composite gloves across the well of Choso's mouth. Because it is Bakugo who is hooking a finger over his incisors, Choso locks his jaw open, flattens his tongue and allows the deluge of water to wash out the remaining blood that had flooded his mouth while the rest of his body tenses against his own wretched reflexes.
Thankfully, nothing needs to be puked out.
Regrettably, Choso doesn't even realize he's trying to ball up again until he meets the resistance in Bakugo's hand gripping his, one more physical reminder to stay, damn it, stay here.
Pay attention, Choso. Look at him. Don't get lost. ]
Forgive me. [ it's puzzling, how difficult breath has become to catch. ] I let him go there.
[Choso can reveal that to him later. While Bakugo's aware Choso has a positive view of him, he's not chalking this reaction up to some kind of "it's you" mindset. Any of Choso's close companions would be doing this for him! Maybe not as effective, because Bakugo's fucking awesome... but that's not on his mind right now. No, what's really on his mind is yelling at Megumi on the other line, mentally, while he deals with Choso in the physical presence.
Getting his hand on and his fingers in Choso's mouth is dangerous enough, but he's determined not to have the guy suffer any further than he is right now. Even if it looks like the blonde's trying to wrangle him in the tub, he's conscious of what he's doing and asking silently of Choso for cooperation. Water in his mouth to encourage him to swish and spit, clear his mouth before the liquid has a chance to clot or even harden. Sorry about the gloves, Odango Mess, but he had a feeling Choso would be protesting if Bakugo came at him with barebackhanded.]
Don't pop your damn jaw either. I can move my hand before you bite. [He's keeping close attention to Choso's jaw and neck, able to react the second he sees muscles twitch for a bite. While it's tempting to shove the whole shower head of water in there, choking's the issue, right? Not gonna plug him with a damn faucet. Bakugo alternates between a quick half-moon surface spray and then his fingers again.]
Stop fucking apologizing, idiot. You're not doing anything wrong. [Like hell is he gonna let Choso give himself grief for this either. A quick tug and he gets the blankets open completely, turning the water down to spray over Choso's chest, shoulders, and stomach so he can start rinsing him off with the warm water.
Though that last part...] You wouldn't have been able to stop him and you know it.
[As much as he'd love to bury Yuji up to his fucking ankles for pulling a stunt like this AGAIN! Bastard said he would think about his actions and how they affect his friends, and here he goes, getting fucking brain surgery without telling anyone?! Cause he knew they'd try to stop him... Tch.]
Tell me about your other brothers. Are they strong, like you and Gari Head. [Hopefully he can get Choso to think of something more positive. Distract him. As if his hand all over Choso's chest isn't distracting enough, maybe.] I don't have any siblings, so I don't know what being a brother's like.
[ It's just one simple truth among many that Bakugo's laid out: Choso cannot stop Yuji in any shape or form as they are now; he had already folded to the young man's will before it began. Was letting the boy spend himself like this any way to help him? Was this supposed to support him? Choso had been remiss in his duty; look now, where they lay in their respective beds.
The least Choso could do now was make it easier for he and Bakugo both, so he stops trying to help; he just outright stops. Prioritize. Breathe. Try again. He hooks his arms over the tub rim for stability, grips the edge tight when he leans over to spit the last of the bloody water at the drain. From there, he leans back enough to allow Bakugo the room to manoeuvre with while Choso braces his knees against the tub walls. Stop. Breathe. Look at Bakugo. Don't get lost. Don't get lost. Don't get lost.
He's so busy trying to be good, he forgets to pay attention to himself outside of the ungainly limbs. Choso, he cries like he doesn't realize he's doing it, cries with fat tears rolling out to join the rivulets of water running down his face to track through the slow-seeping blood of his mark. He cries with his brows pinched up high, chin all tensed, open and ugly as a child's unabashed weeping, but he does not look away because Bakugo is asking, because Bakugo is redirecting and Choso is too fucking grateful to not follow where the hero is pointing him. ]
Noranso, Sho-oso, Tanso, Sanso, Kotsuso, and Shoso. [ It's almost a mantra, these eerie names. He says them like they're the first words his human mouth ever made (and maybe they were). ] Eso, second eldest, and khuhh-Kechizu, second youngest. Eso's technique was beautiful, elegant. Kechizu, fearless and free.
[ With all this to juggle, he barely seems to mind Bakugo's hand all over his chest. (he will remember this later, surely, and agonize) ]
[Bakugo would have stopped him. Most likely Megumi and Nobara would have as well. At least until he tried the puppy eyes. Though those don't work on Bakugo; he grew up with Izuku. But knowing his friends and brother would protest, he figures Yuji up and did this rash fucking thing without saying shit. Again. Like normal.
The thing is, as good a friend as Bakugo can be, he's also not a coddling one. Someone who shoots themself in the foot gets little sympathy from him. Anger? Plenty. If Yuji wants to do this kind of reckless shit... whatever. A dead person can't save anyone. And there's only so much of a person they can give before they run out completely. Some people won't learn that until too late, unless those who care about them stage some kind of intervention.
And they fucking listen to it... Then again, Bakugo wouldn't be getting so pissed off about it if he truly didn't care what Yuji did. Ugh, fuck it! He can't do shit for the guy now because he's taking care of Choso! That's more important. Yuji's with the doctors, they haven't killed anyone yet, but Choso's alone with him and that's where Bakugo's mind has to be!
Choso stops moving and for a second, the blonde panics the guy had a fucking seizure, heart attack, blood clot (the irony), or something worse! ... Then realizes he's just stopped struggling. DAMMIT ODANGO MESS!! SAY THAT NEXT TIME!! He leans back a bit when Choso spits the water out, then leans forward to help the man ease back against the tub again. Returning to the rinse off, he tries to keep his touches a mixture of efficient and gentle, not wanting to agitate Choso any further than he already is. Thanks for the knee spread, buddy.
Bakugo can't tell if the tears are from pain, from sadness, from something else. He can't know. All he can do is continue to watch over Choso and rinse him off, brushing at his tears from time to time to try and help. Ransacking the bathroom earlier provided some pain killers, but would those things even work on some curse technique blood link? Can't just shove Advil down someone's throat and hope it works... Fuck it, he might take the risk. It's not poison.]
Someone liked the "so" character. [Either that was a theme or the maker was pretty suck at being creative.] Kechizu was the odd one out, huh. [He refuses to believe Yuji was named by some fucked up time-skipping sperm donor madman. Maybe the parent who wasn't the damn brain got to name him. He'll keep that comment to himself.] What were their techniques? Blood Manipulation, like yours?
[Excuse him for going below the stomach, Choso. Do him a favor and don't remember his hand on your crotch. He's just rinsing off the pooled blood... Bet he's fucking wearing white.]
[ Even worse: sweatpants grey, and just as useless at coverage for entirely different reasons. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on one’s POV, Choso isn’t fussed, registers it but doesn’t pay mind to exactly where Bakugo is touching (another detail to agonize over in the amorphous Later), never mind how the soft cotton is plastered to… well. Everything.
Just everything.
Regardless, Choso is busy, see. He’s busy snuffling, breath bursting out of him in a huff that could have been a chuckle or could have been a sob, fighting all the while to stem the flow.
Bakugo, explosive, powerful Bakugo, his hands are so gentle that it’s a different kind of hurt altogether. ]
Kechizu, ‘to bleed’.
[ More sniffles, but it’s clearer. Choso’s voice regaining strength. ]
His blood was powerfully caustic, but he couldn’t control it as Eso could. [ a thick swallow, another gulping breath. ] Eso, ‘rupturing phase’. His blood technique could decay the flesh of his enemies over time, but he could not manipulate his blood as I could.
[Yeah well it's not like he's down there giving anything a roll. It's more just pressing and sweeping amid the spray to wipe as much blood off as possible before it has a chance to set and stain. These pants and the shirt are probably goners if "pristine" is the want, but whatever. That's not important right now. Bakugo moves onto Choso's thighs soon enough, going back to his mouth and chest whenever more blood makes another appearance.
Each panting breath shoving out of Choso's mouth is painful. Knowing he can't stop it short of slamming his fist into the half-curse's head in effort to knock him the fuck out. Bakugo wonders if he could put pressure on his head like you sometimes can do for a headache, using his explosions to try... something. That'd just burn his hair though.
Well, soaking wet hair wouldn't burn so easily. Tch.]
No wonder you've got the corrosive blood. [All of them seemed to have the same kind of theme going on. He wonders if that was something the brain guy deliberately made or if that was part of the base used. Who knows what biological shit this guy was doing.] Are all of you from different parents?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
blastedass
no subject
Date: 4/29/24 02:27 (UTC)Bakugo works fast. Before the thought can even spark that this might not be an ideal place to be, the hero's voice cuts through the gurgle and the bubbling and the rapids-rush of the blood in his head, and the blood that had begun to shiver dangerously stops altogether. Don't move. Stop talking. Listen.
So Choso listens. His focus turns inward as Bakugo works, to the rush and the pound in his chest, lets the directive lead the fritzed frayed ends of his focus into the task of replenishing the blood slowly oozing itself out of his face. The stuff on the walls begins to slide, to slip further down and onto the floor like oil on foil, so that by the time he finds himself hauled up like a bulky pack, most of it has begun to pool in a growing, glassy puddle around the room perimeter. To his credit, the path between Bakugo and the door remains clear.
To the bathroom. Running water, the hiss of it overhead. Logically, is that not the best place to be? Pay attention, Choso: Bakugo is asking a question. ]
Nho. No medhickh.
[ What if it interrupts? What if it throws something off, what if it somehow comes back around on Yuji, what if, what if, what if? What if the idea of a LILITH staff member perceiving him right now makes his stomach drop?
Bakugo has already seen him at his worst. ]
no subject
Date: 4/29/24 02:43 (UTC)The smell of burned blood, sugar, and smoke isn't going to make it any more pleasant, but that won't be their problem because they won't be in the damn room much longer. Once Bakugo gets Choso settled, he plans to come back and either leave a note or clean up the room. But that's for later.
Well... at least some of the work's been done, what with the blood around the corners and on the floor now. Gross. This is going to be hell to clean. They might have to get some hazmat extras in here to handle it, unless Choso can remove stains too. Something else for later as he hefts the guy up and heads for the door, staying on the cleared path.
Hopefully Choso will keep his face ducked so the blood goes into the blankets around him rather than dripping all over the ground. If the dorms are laid out like each other, then it won't be hard to get himself and his bundle to the nearest bathroom.]
Are you bleeding out or is your technique being a bitch?
[That's the important part. If it's just his technique, he won't call a medic. But if not... He kicks the bathroom door shut behind them and moves Choso to the tub, settling him in it carefully.]
I'm gonna turn the water on and then clean you up.
no subject
Date: 4/29/24 05:38 (UTC)Red pours into the basin like an overflow in reverse. ]
A bitch. [ It is the clearest word he's said all damn day, for being two blessedly short syllables, and it's entirely at odds with the horrorshow of the blood flooding around his bagwormed body into the tub only to gurgle away down the drain.
Gross. But at least it's going somewhere conductive.
At the warning of the water, Choso nods his head, too wrapped up (literally, figuratively, spiritually) to bother with something as frivolous as embarrassment over their respective roles here. His head only bobs toward the sound of that voice, the anchor holding down the world while the phantom echoes of another human's lucid brain surgery sets the waters roiling. Eyes follow Bakugo's familiar figure easily; here shines a simple, implicit trust, a faith in this one entity among the countless many scattered throughout the base. ]
Khhhaygh. [ that was assent in there, somewhere, surely. ]
no subject
Date: 4/29/24 05:54 (UTC)It also means he's getting out of the way once Choso's settled in the tub and the blood slithers back in like a damn gummy snake. Then more. Yeah, excuse him for perching on the counter with his hands, legs up, until the blood's back where it wants to bed. Weird shit... Choso's response is clearer than the past ones, but he's happier to hear the blood going down the drain. Once it's not as mobile, Bakugo turns on the water, keeping it small and slow for now so it can warm up first without spraying Choso with a freezing shower. Not that it's shower yet; the faucet's left to pour down into the drain.]
I'm gonna find some gloves.
[As the water warms up, Bakugo ransacks the bathrooms cabinets, sink, closet, and finally finds a box of rubber gloves. That'll have to do. He snaps them on, grabs a bunch of towels from the closet, and then opens the toilet nearby before pouring cleaner and bleach into the commode's bowl. Only then does he check the water and deem it warm.]
Gonna open these. Don't shoot me in the face.
[He starts working on the blankets to peel them open from the front, trying to avoid the blood and using the water to splash onto the man's legs and waist to start washing the blood off.]
I'll wash you off so you can bleed freely.
[This is more than Bakugo would ever say normally, but he has the feeling his voice is keeping Choso grounded, so dictating his moves helps to serve that and keep the man knowledgeable of what he's doing.]
no subject
Date: 4/29/24 19:30 (UTC)Don’t shoot him in the face. Doable. Wash off, doable. Bleed freely, more than doable. ]
It’sh ohkay.
[ The blood is tenable, he means; this will pass, he means; no one is in danger, he means, but it’s more words than Choso is prepared to say, more than he has room for in his blood-thick mouth. So he must make do with this pitiful attempt at reassurance, head bowing as if to say, ‘thanks for hosing me off, mister’. ]
no subject
Date: 4/29/24 21:01 (UTC)This isn't fucking "okay" you asshole.
[Don't give him that "i'm fine" bullshit Yuji and Izuku are both known for doing in his life. He doesn't believe them when they say it and he's not about to believe Choso either.
And don't "mister" him either. Once he's got the blankets open, Bakugo works the water over Choso further, gloved hands wringing and rubbing at his legs to wash the blood off. He switches on the shower and uses the tethered head to spray the warm water along Choso's calves and thighs, slowly but efficiently cleaning his pants legs off.]
This better not be a fucking reflection of what they're doing to Itadori...
[Cause if his friend's over there spitting blood and looking a gory wreck, Bakugo's liable to storm the medical facility and blow the hell out of it.]
no subject
Date: 4/30/24 03:17 (UTC)It isthn't okay.
[ Bakugo is right, of course he's right; Choso had wondered at it, worried at it, had looked over the rundown of the prodecure with dread in his heart but Yuji was determined, was the picture of super-human adaptability, was woefully indestructible to the degree that this, none of this was okay and here Choso was despite it all, wrapped like the world's worst spring roll while a cat performed brain surgery on his brother.
The distant, inward cast to his expression ruptures with the pinch and draw of his brows up, with the wrinkle of his chin and the clench of his jaw like he doesn't know if he wants to snarl and snap or cry. It's so open a shift, such a raw thing gleaming wound-wet and shiny like he doesn't know how to hide it, but he doesn't look away while Bakugo works, couldn't if he tried. The least he can do is angle himself into a 'corner' of the tub furthest from boom boy's face, completing the look of 'dog at groomers', the only courtesy he can offer in this as his mark begins to bleed bright arterial red anew. ]
They're in hihh-- they're in hhhis head!
[ Be calm, listen, keep doing that, this isn't okay, a fucking reflection, words on words on words piling up and as his pulse kicks up a click Choso's hands creep back up to press the heels of his hands against his temples, fingers fisting in his hair to finally finish off that second odango. ]
no subject
Date: 4/30/24 03:50 (UTC)That's what I fucking said.
[He quickly leans forward with the shower head, cupping his hand underneath it and aiming the spray at his palm. It's obviously enough to collect in there, which he uses to wipe at Choso's lips and attempts to get him to open his mouth so he can swab a finger in there.]
Open your mouth. I'm not gonna have you choke on this shit.
[He can and will shove his finger down Choso's throat to make him puke if blood starts clotting in places it shouldn't. But right now, a finger around his teeth and the water cupped and pushed against his mouth should be enough to help flush out anything that wants to stick in there. As much as he wants to worry about Yuji right now, Bakugo isn't going to abandon Choso for that. Yuji would kill him. Or cry. Which is worse.
At least Choso's not wrapped up too much now as Bakugo works on clearing the blankets open around the bath so he can free the man's body for more washing. It's hard as hell not to watch Choso's expressions and get his heart thrown into his mouth each fucking time. Whatever's going on with Yuji isn't good. He's quick enough to get his finger out before Choso bites the fucking thing off, but... yeah no, you're not cinching up in the corner like that. Bakugo pulls him right back down, using the blankets around him like a makeshift slide.]
Don't scrunch up! I'm cleaning you off, dammit!
[There's another muffled protest. -in his head- DAMMIT, GARI HEAD!! What the fuck are you allowing them to do to you now?! Bakugo snaps his hand out and grabs at Choso's hand before he rips his hair out.]
Look at me! Choso! Look at me. Don't get lost in your own head!
[Whether it's some kind of blood link or psychic link, it's not helping matters and he has to try to keep Choso's attention off the horrors going on in his brother's surgery. If that's even possible.]
no subject
Date: 4/30/24 21:42 (UTC)Thankfully, nothing needs to be puked out.
Regrettably, Choso doesn't even realize he's trying to ball up again until he meets the resistance in Bakugo's hand gripping his, one more physical reminder to stay, damn it, stay here.
Pay attention, Choso. Look at him. Don't get lost. ]
Forgive me. [ it's puzzling, how difficult breath has become to catch. ] I let him go there.
no subject
Date: 5/1/24 00:56 (UTC)Getting his hand on and his fingers in Choso's mouth is dangerous enough, but he's determined not to have the guy suffer any further than he is right now. Even if it looks like the blonde's trying to wrangle him in the tub, he's conscious of what he's doing and asking silently of Choso for cooperation. Water in his mouth to encourage him to swish and spit, clear his mouth before the liquid has a chance to clot or even harden. Sorry about the gloves, Odango Mess, but he had a feeling Choso would be protesting if Bakugo came at him with bare
backhanded.]Don't pop your damn jaw either. I can move my hand before you bite. [He's keeping close attention to Choso's jaw and neck, able to react the second he sees muscles twitch for a bite. While it's tempting to shove the whole shower head of water in there, choking's the issue, right? Not gonna plug him with a damn faucet. Bakugo alternates between a quick half-moon surface spray and then his fingers again.]
Stop fucking apologizing, idiot. You're not doing anything wrong. [Like hell is he gonna let Choso give himself grief for this either. A quick tug and he gets the blankets open completely, turning the water down to spray over Choso's chest, shoulders, and stomach so he can start rinsing him off with the warm water.
Though that last part...] You wouldn't have been able to stop him and you know it.
[As much as he'd love to bury Yuji up to his fucking ankles for pulling a stunt like this AGAIN! Bastard said he would think about his actions and how they affect his friends, and here he goes, getting fucking brain surgery without telling anyone?! Cause he knew they'd try to stop him... Tch.]
Tell me about your other brothers. Are they strong, like you and Gari Head. [Hopefully he can get Choso to think of something more positive. Distract him. As if his hand all over Choso's chest isn't distracting enough, maybe.] I don't have any siblings, so I don't know what being a brother's like.
no subject
Date: 5/2/24 03:30 (UTC)The least Choso could do now was make it easier for he and Bakugo both, so he stops trying to help; he just outright stops. Prioritize. Breathe. Try again. He hooks his arms over the tub rim for stability, grips the edge tight when he leans over to spit the last of the bloody water at the drain. From there, he leans back enough to allow Bakugo the room to manoeuvre with while Choso braces his knees against the tub walls. Stop. Breathe. Look at Bakugo. Don't get lost. Don't get lost. Don't get lost.
He's so busy trying to be good, he forgets to pay attention to himself outside of the ungainly limbs. Choso, he cries like he doesn't realize he's doing it, cries with fat tears rolling out to join the rivulets of water running down his face to track through the slow-seeping blood of his mark. He cries with his brows pinched up high, chin all tensed, open and ugly as a child's unabashed weeping, but he does not look away because Bakugo is asking, because Bakugo is redirecting and Choso is too fucking grateful to not follow where the hero is pointing him. ]
Noranso, Sho-oso, Tanso, Sanso, Kotsuso, and Shoso. [ It's almost a mantra, these eerie names. He says them like they're the first words his human mouth ever made (and maybe they were). ] Eso, second eldest, and khuhh-Kechizu, second youngest. Eso's technique was beautiful, elegant. Kechizu, fearless and free.
[ With all this to juggle, he barely seems to mind Bakugo's hand all over his chest. (he will remember this later, surely, and agonize) ]
no subject
Date: 5/2/24 04:12 (UTC)The thing is, as good a friend as Bakugo can be, he's also not a coddling one. Someone who shoots themself in the foot gets little sympathy from him. Anger? Plenty. If Yuji wants to do this kind of reckless shit... whatever. A dead person can't save anyone. And there's only so much of a person they can give before they run out completely. Some people won't learn that until too late, unless those who care about them stage some kind of intervention.
And they fucking listen to it... Then again, Bakugo wouldn't be getting so pissed off about it if he truly didn't care what Yuji did. Ugh, fuck it! He can't do shit for the guy now because he's taking care of Choso! That's more important. Yuji's with the doctors, they haven't killed anyone yet, but Choso's alone with him and that's where Bakugo's mind has to be!
Choso stops moving and for a second, the blonde panics the guy had a fucking seizure, heart attack, blood clot (the irony), or something worse! ... Then realizes he's just stopped struggling. DAMMIT ODANGO MESS!! SAY THAT NEXT TIME!! He leans back a bit when Choso spits the water out, then leans forward to help the man ease back against the tub again. Returning to the rinse off, he tries to keep his touches a mixture of efficient and gentle, not wanting to agitate Choso any further than he already is. Thanks for the knee spread, buddy.
Bakugo can't tell if the tears are from pain, from sadness, from something else. He can't know. All he can do is continue to watch over Choso and rinse him off, brushing at his tears from time to time to try and help. Ransacking the bathroom earlier provided some pain killers, but would those things even work on some curse technique blood link? Can't just shove Advil down someone's throat and hope it works... Fuck it, he might take the risk. It's not poison.]
Someone liked the "so" character. [Either that was a theme or the maker was pretty suck at being creative.] Kechizu was the odd one out, huh. [He refuses to believe Yuji was named by some fucked up time-skipping sperm donor madman. Maybe the parent who wasn't the damn brain got to name him. He'll keep that comment to himself.] What were their techniques? Blood Manipulation, like yours?
[Excuse him for going below the stomach, Choso. Do him a favor and don't remember his hand on your crotch. He's just rinsing off the pooled blood... Bet he's fucking wearing white.]
no subject
Date: 5/4/24 22:30 (UTC)Just everything.
Regardless, Choso is busy, see. He’s busy snuffling, breath bursting out of him in a huff that could have been a chuckle or could have been a sob, fighting all the while to stem the flow.
Bakugo, explosive, powerful Bakugo, his hands are so gentle that it’s a different kind of hurt altogether. ]
Kechizu, ‘to bleed’.
[ More sniffles, but it’s clearer. Choso’s voice regaining strength. ]
His blood was powerfully caustic, but he couldn’t control it as Eso could. [ a thick swallow, another gulping breath. ] Eso, ‘rupturing phase’. His blood technique could decay the flesh of his enemies over time, but he could not manipulate his blood as I could.
no subject
Date: 5/5/24 01:52 (UTC)Each panting breath shoving out of Choso's mouth is painful. Knowing he can't stop it short of slamming his fist into the half-curse's head in effort to knock him the fuck out. Bakugo wonders if he could put pressure on his head like you sometimes can do for a headache, using his explosions to try... something. That'd just burn his hair though.
Well, soaking wet hair wouldn't burn so easily. Tch.]
No wonder you've got the corrosive blood. [All of them seemed to have the same kind of theme going on. He wonders if that was something the brain guy deliberately made or if that was part of the base used. Who knows what biological shit this guy was doing.] Are all of you from different parents?
[Half parents at least.]