10-24-2018, 08:45 AM
Sadness is not something that stays with him for long. It's an ugly feeling, squirming within him like a rat afraid of fire. Eventually, it builds and overflows. The bucket tips over, pouring from the rim, drowning his heart. The suffocation, the deep emotions that tangle and spiral, cascading from him chest a heart ache he could barely handle. With sadness it becomes his anger, a formidable rage, a frustration that this emotion could even exist within him. Everyone knew the way smoke liked to wheeze from his nostrils, rising into the atmosphere and surrounding him like a cape of blackened air. His blood always felt like it was boiling, steaming with heat. Inside of him is a furnace, chewing at all his resources, blazing. He's never been able to burn himself with the flames. They were always there, living inside of him. He's forgotten what it's felt like to have no fire within him. It wouldn't be natural; he wouldn't be him. But never once, not one moment in his life, had he thought that others could feel it too. He thought it to be internal, a mental image of a hearth inside of him, circling inside to be released. He didn't think he could hurt others with a single touch.
He ignored the cries and squawking of Masie. Bakugou would rather not think about the young raptor, ignoring the child's concerns and attempt to make him react or move. He wanted to stay still, let himself crumble. He was so angry he felt as if he was solid rock, confined and shackled to his emotions. The last thing the Reaver expected was to be nuzzled by the creature, realising she felt cold against him because he was so warm, dangerously warm that he suddenly raised a paw in an attempt to flinch from her touch. It didn't stop him from hearing the utahraptor's screech. He felt his heart stop, beating sonorously within him. Bakugou doesn't look up, putting his paw down. He can hear Owen's growl toward him, nostrils flaring in excess heat. His ears were pointed, fur raised in his own kind of aggression. He... he didn't know. Who told her to touch him anyway? Who gave her the right to touch him? He feels as if he's choking, teleporting away from Lucifer's grasp when he sees the dragon's shadow. His eyes are crackling with fire, the male spitting embers.
His eyes were hot with tears, tears that could have been the dew of the sun itself. "SHE DESERVES IT," he shouts, ears flatten against his cranium. He was burning up even more now, flames beginning to coat his entire body instead of his tail. At any moment, the Reaver could probably faint. He was expending too much energy now, too much because his emotions couldn't be controlled and his emotions ruled the way his fire acted. It had a mind of its own, responding to the rage that was feeding it, allowing it to live and destroy. Nothing good could ever come from his fire. He hated that, hated that he was stuck within this standstill - a standstill where he couldn't progress. But his mind wouldn't tolerate it. It hurt too much, his heat was clouding his thoughts, blocking any feelings of sympathy. His mind was making everything foggy. He could have just explained that he didn't know, that he didn't know he would burn her - didn't want to, but he couldn't accept the blame. Not right now, not right now. "DON'T FUCKIN' TOUCH ME. YOU DON'T JUST FUCKIN' TOUCH ME. WHO TOLD HER TO TOUCH ME?" It wasn't just directed to Masie. It was directed to everyone else here. Goldenluxury, Luciferus, Owen... He never intended to hurt anyone but he was just mad. He doesn't want anyone touching him.
"...fuck it." He doesn't want to stay around any longer. He'd explode at this point, let himself drown or dissipate into thin air. He wondered if he was even capable of cremating himself with his own fire. Bakugou was so, so hot. He felt uncomfortable in his own skin, wanting to rip all his fur away from trapping the heat within him. The Reaver, snarling at nothing in particular, furrows his brow before dematerialising elsewhere.
He ignored the cries and squawking of Masie. Bakugou would rather not think about the young raptor, ignoring the child's concerns and attempt to make him react or move. He wanted to stay still, let himself crumble. He was so angry he felt as if he was solid rock, confined and shackled to his emotions. The last thing the Reaver expected was to be nuzzled by the creature, realising she felt cold against him because he was so warm, dangerously warm that he suddenly raised a paw in an attempt to flinch from her touch. It didn't stop him from hearing the utahraptor's screech. He felt his heart stop, beating sonorously within him. Bakugou doesn't look up, putting his paw down. He can hear Owen's growl toward him, nostrils flaring in excess heat. His ears were pointed, fur raised in his own kind of aggression. He... he didn't know. Who told her to touch him anyway? Who gave her the right to touch him? He feels as if he's choking, teleporting away from Lucifer's grasp when he sees the dragon's shadow. His eyes are crackling with fire, the male spitting embers.
His eyes were hot with tears, tears that could have been the dew of the sun itself. "SHE DESERVES IT," he shouts, ears flatten against his cranium. He was burning up even more now, flames beginning to coat his entire body instead of his tail. At any moment, the Reaver could probably faint. He was expending too much energy now, too much because his emotions couldn't be controlled and his emotions ruled the way his fire acted. It had a mind of its own, responding to the rage that was feeding it, allowing it to live and destroy. Nothing good could ever come from his fire. He hated that, hated that he was stuck within this standstill - a standstill where he couldn't progress. But his mind wouldn't tolerate it. It hurt too much, his heat was clouding his thoughts, blocking any feelings of sympathy. His mind was making everything foggy. He could have just explained that he didn't know, that he didn't know he would burn her - didn't want to, but he couldn't accept the blame. Not right now, not right now. "DON'T FUCKIN' TOUCH ME. YOU DON'T JUST FUCKIN' TOUCH ME. WHO TOLD HER TO TOUCH ME?" It wasn't just directed to Masie. It was directed to everyone else here. Goldenluxury, Luciferus, Owen... He never intended to hurt anyone but he was just mad. He doesn't want anyone touching him.
"...fuck it." He doesn't want to stay around any longer. He'd explode at this point, let himself drown or dissipate into thin air. He wondered if he was even capable of cremating himself with his own fire. Bakugou was so, so hot. He felt uncomfortable in his own skin, wanting to rip all his fur away from trapping the heat within him. The Reaver, snarling at nothing in particular, furrows his brow before dematerialising elsewhere.