#tw dissociation
Traumacore art dump
man dissociation fucking sucks ass!! whole chunks of my days are gone and i don’t remember what happened, having to record my conversations with clients so i refer back to them so i know what i need to complete bc i don’t remember what we talked about, my meet-up with friends all happen as i’m behind a wall of fog. shits so scary too wtf this feeling is so new to me, i couldn’t even describe it to my therapist properly. i hate this i hate this i hate this
Does it even matter anymore?
NO!! YOU FUCKING IMBECILE IT HASN’T MATTERED FOR YEARS.
But it hurts. I don’t understand why it wouldn’t matter if it still hurts for some reason.
Move the fuck on! Your wasting everyone’s time, suck it up and live your fucking life.
probs hard not to mentally check out after a really tough fight
Wrote a lil drabble for this
cuz i rly liked it…
-
“Deku…”
Deku didn’t look up.
His eyes were distant, void of the familiar vast pools of green and exchanged for a thin emerald ring around the edge of a shaking black abyss. Deku was long gone, horrors of unknown origin replaying in his mind, and there was little Katsuki could do to retrieve him when he got like this…
Katsuki sighed.
It was bad.
A lot of people got hurt today and they couldn’t even blame themselves for how shitty everything had turned out. Katsuki would even go as far as to say they were lucky it hadn’t been worse; as if luck had anything to do with it.
Katsuki’s hands were trembling, balled into dry tight fists at his side, but all he could focus on was
“Deku.” He repeated, a bit more forceful.
Nothing. Not even a flinch as Katsuki got close.
There was blood on Deku’s left cheek and Katsuki didn’t hesitate to wipe it off with his gloved thumb. Gentle, but with purpose. Deku didn’t seem to notice. He continued to silently stare through Katsuki, somewhere far away from the battlefield. Soot replaced the blood on his cheek, but Katsuki found the dark grey on Deku’s sick wet parlor strangely more preferable than the red.
Katsuki’s hand drifted to the back of Deku’s head and he pressed them both closer, until their foreheads softly tapped together. Still, Izuku did not look at him. Katsuki slowly raised his other hand to Deku’s shoulder, lightly kneading his fingers where he saw it had taken a bad hit.
To others it might look like he was trying to ground Deku, but that wasn’t his intention.
Katsuki didn’t want Deku to come back. Not right now.
He knew it wasn’t healthy, but if the world right outside of this bubble that Katsuki created was no longer safe for Deku— if the momentary blankness in his mind was more comfortable— then he didn’t think it was too cruel to just… Let him have it.
Only for a few minutes longer…
Long enough for Katsuki to sort between, box up, and put away his own panic and fear. Force his mind free of the torment Izuku was currently experiencing, pushing it deep deep down, and give Katsuki the time to gather enough strength to keep his shit together. So they could both settle into the new reality. Eyes a bit darker than before, but still breathing.
Ready for the next time they’d lose themselves, partly or wholly, in the neverending fight to save to win, to win to save, and to survive.
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