symbol-of-terror asked:
2: break any bone(s) in my muse’s body. // Bye arm. From @the-reeking-of-burnt-flesh bc Im bonded to mobile rn and change accounts is a pain.
f*ck with my muse
2: break any bone(s) in my muse’s body.
A muffled scream left Shoto's mouth, the moment he heard his own bones to crack. He was lying on the ground, underneath the villain. Face pressed on the dirt, in an attempt to handle the pain coming from his left arm. Why was he so weak ? What kind of hero was he if he had been so weak when fighting an opponent with a quirk similar to his own? What could he call himself after being defeated that easily ? At times like these, he recalled what his father would tell him when he thought he had reached his limit. It was like he could listen to his voice clearly.
“When real lives are at stake, there are no limits. If you want to call yourself a hero, then you need to stand up and give your all.”
He needed to stand up. No matter how much pain his body was put through. This wasn't a test. This was a real battle. His vision was blurry and he could feel as if his head was ringing. Using his Quirk at a time like this - when he could barely concentrate - could lead to hurting himself. But he hadn't any other choice. He had to let everything he had out.
Both his sides were activated. The ground underneath them frozing and spikes of ice were formed in places. He hadn't control. He must have hit his head more seriously than he thought. Ice covered the right side of his body while his flames were unleashed. It was getting harder to breathe. A groan left his lips, feeling as if he was about to pass out. He couldn't lose his senses yet. “Is this all you have?” he yelled.
Dabi was only a weaker version of him. What gave him the lead was his experience in battle. The youngest Todoroki wasn't going to let the villain win. He wasn't going to let him withdraw either. No matter his state, he'd fight. No matter how much blood he lost, or how many bones were broken. If his old man had taught him something, was to have high tolerance in pain. To never give up, even if his opponent was someone seemingly more powerful than himself. If all Dabi could do was to break him to reassure win - if his flames were nothing but useless against him, then he had nothing to fear.
Still letting all he had out, he slowly crawled away from the other. He needed to get some distance. He had so much more to give. So much more to learn. This wouldn't be his end. He was only at the beginning of turning to the hero he wanted. Getting on one knee, he turned to look at the him. His eyes couldn't focus. His right arm was raised. Ice had seemed to be useless against him, but he hadn't yet shown his real power. Right now, he needed to buy some time. His attempt to make a wall of ice had been poor. It wasn't solid enough, and it wouldn't hold him long but it would give him some seconds to think, or even attract the attention of a hero being near.
@the-reeking-of-burnt-flesh
